Chapter One: Slave

By Cassandra E

A/Notes: If any of you are wondering when the Serenity crew will be showing up, I’ll say around Ch.4, where the story will be in the present- 2517 after River and Simon’s arrival. In the meantime, I am sure you’ll be seeing some familiar faces in the following chapters. Saffron or Yolanda married Durran Haymer in 2511, so I am taking the liberty of writing that she got bored after two years, when she decided to escape with security programmer and start her con game. Hence her appearance in this chapter. Feedback always most welcome.

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2513- Two Years Later

The Harrow Estate, Sihnon

Inara scrubbed the floor viciously, the harsh soap drying her once soft hands. They were now red and callused, workers hands, hands of a slave. Her knees and body ached from kneeling; she wore a uniform of brown and white. Her once beautiful black hair had lost its luster, hacked off to chin length, covered under a white cap. After that fateful day that her mother had casually sold her to a slave trader, the following two years had went in a blur. She remembered vaguely trying to escape before reaching the slave trader’s post, but she barely got two feet away when she was dragged back. Already severely beaten by her mother, they had decided to whip her for her trouble. Inara was obedient from then on, knowing that she wouldn’t survive another beating. Dipping the rag into the soap and water bucket, she slapped the rag down again to scrub.

She was one of the lucky ones; Inara had been sold to a family that mainly uses slaves to do the work around the house. It was very hard labor, long hours, and hardly any rest. They were fed two meals a day, meager servings to all. But it could have been worse; there were girls that were sold into the sex trade, a life much harsher than the regular standards. At first, when Inara had recovered enough from her mother’s betrayal and her own injuries, she had sobbed for days on end, until she was flogged for making too much noise by her owner. The Harrow family was of old, old money, the kind that was a habit, since they couldn’t remember living any other way. They lived it, breathed it and dressed it. Inara hated them; it was a slow growing hatred, similar to what she felt for her mother. During the first year, Inara had gone through the motions, not really taking notice of her surroundings or actions. It was like she had gone into a deep sleep and now was waking up from it. And each day it was worse because she remembered the freedom she had before. Inara couldn’t hide in her room and make all her troubles float away by reading a book as before. Those days were gone and how she yearned for them. The oppressed feeling in Inara grew until she felt she couldn’t breathe anymore. It couldn’t go on, Inara had to leave. It was all a measure of how and when.

“Girl.” A female voice called.

Inara glanced up, a quiet anger in her eyes. “Yes, Mistress Harrow.”

Lady Elizabeth Antonia Harrow looked down at Inara, her nose crinkled in distaste, making her narrow face look pinched. Her ashy blond hair was put in an elegant style, gray eyes set in a perpetual frown. Her gown was made of the finest satin and lace; the cost could have fed a family of four for a year. “Why haven’t you finished the floor yet? You do realize that everything must be ready for the arrival of my husband and son. You still have the staircase to do, not to mention the parlor room as well.”

“Forgive me, Mistress Harrow, everything will be done.” Inara said listlessly, her eyes cast down in deference. Her hand squeezed the rag tight; imaging it was Lady Harrow’s neck.

Elizabeth snapped her fingers. “You best be, or maybe two days without food will remind you to be quicker.” With a disdainful sniff and a grand swish of her skirts, she was gone. Inara bit her lip, her eyes fierce, slapping the rag down she proceeded to snap her fingers mockingly. “tchen wah”

“So brave is the little slave. I would watch my steps around the old bat. Unless you’re partial to flogging.” A voice taunted behind Inara. She closed her eyes, knowing the voice and detesting it also. Inara turned around, her expression pleasant. “Shouldn’t you be prettying yourself Saffron, you are looking quite shallow.”

“You really should watch that mouth, Inara dear. It would be such a shame to ruin that ‘pretty’ face.” Saffron said with derision, arms crossed.

Saffron was a little older than Inara, with creamy white skin and long red hair. Her arrogance belied her true station in the Harrow household, she was a whore. Saffron was the kept mistress of the master of the house, Lord Joseph Allen Harrow. She claimed to be a Companion, but Inara had taken to reading people and something about Saffron struck her odd. If Lady Harrow had a formidable will, than her husband was worse, it was the only reason Saffron was kept in the household. No one went over Lord Harrow’s resolve.

“You are forgetting whom you really are, Saffron. You’re not Lady of the Manor yet.” Inara said her tone biting.

Saffron laughed, her own elegant clothes swaying with the movement. “I will be soon. Anyway, the cook is asking for you.”

“Playing the part of the messenger now?” Inara ridiculed. This had been an ongoing routine between the two women during the past two years. It was a false rivalry that served as entertainment for the two. Although Saffron was better off, her stay in the Harrow Estate was a choice enslavement.

“Darling little slave, best keep that mouth shut.” Saffron said with false sweetness. Walking over, she ‘accidentally’ kicked the dirty water bucket on the newly cleaned floor. The murky brown water stained the clear white marble floor. Half a day’s work ruined, Inara would be punished.

“Oops, you better hurry up then. Slave…” Saffron sneered, skirting around the mess.

Inara fought the urge to cry, but a tear managed to slip through. Through watery eyes, she began to clean the floor again, rubbing until her hands were raw. She’ll leave, she had to, she will. Those thoughts alone, along with the memory of a flogging, gave Inara strength to go on.

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“Tianna, look at you, child! Didn’t you get my message? It was over an hour ago.” Annie Jacobs said with concern in her green eyes.

Inara smiled warily at the cook. Annie Jacobs was a plump woman with a kind demeanor; she was a hired hand instead of a slave and Inara’s only friend. The other slaves tended to avoid any long term friendships, in case they were suddenly scolded and sent off as punishment. Everyone in the Harrow Estate looked out for themselves, slaves included. Her kindness and fussiness reminded Inara of her beloved Nana. “Saffron.” Inara stated simply, as if it explained it all.

“Damn that woman. Thinkin’ she’s some grand lady, when she's just a piece of…”

“Annie, let it go. I still have the staircase to clean and wax.” Inara said her voice tired. She tried to close her hands, but they burned where the skin had been rubbed pink. “You wanted to tell me something?”

Annie looked around to make sure no one was watching. She motioned Inara to lean down, whispering, “I made a contact on the information you wanted.”

Inara felt her heart pound in excitement, eyes hopeful. “Really, what did they say?”

“There’s a man called Colin Foster. Apparently, he’s helps people with situations like yours.” Annie said softly, her eyes on guard. “Independent, fought in the war.”

“That’s wonderful Annie! How can you get in contact with him?” Inara whispered excitedly.

Annie signaled for her to hush, when a hired servant entered the kitchen. The servant paid them no heed, leaving soon after they retrieved a tea kettle and china cups. “My contact will be talking to him, for the arrangement details.”

Inara beamed with joy, her raw, burned hands forgotten. “Oh, Annie, I can never…”

“Hush, child. Go on back to work. Everythin’ will be just fine.” Annie said modestly, but her expression mirrored Inara’s.

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Inara had just finished the staircase when she heard the arrival of Lord Harrow and his son, Jeremiah Lee Harrow. Father and son resembled each other physically and personality wise. In other words, they appeared as the perfect society gentlemen, but deep down they were the worse kind of tamade. Jeremiah was four years older than Inara, and had a penchant for little girls. Most of the time the girls were brought in and never seen again. Rumors flew around Jeremiah like flies on a corpse, rumors of sadistic games and pleasures. There was no denying the cruelty in his eyes, along with the arrogance. Inara always did her best to avoid him along with his father. She didn’t like the way his gaze would linger on her.

Inara stood at the end of the staircase with her eyes downcast. She held her breath as they walked past her. As she moved to amble away, Lord Harrow called to her. “Girl.”

Inara reluctantly turned around to answer. “Yes, Master Harrow.”

Joseph Harrow was a tall man with graying blond hair and icy green eyes. He gave her a considering look up and down her body. “What do they call you?”

Inara kept her gaze on the floor. “Inara.”

“Inara? Very well, Inara, where is my wife?”

“She’s in her room, Master Harrows.” Inara answered softly.

“Look up when you are spoken to, slave!” Jeremiah ordered from the top of the stairs, a malicious gleam in his eyes.

Inara looked up, her expression neutral. “Yes, Master Harrow.”

Lord Harrow gave a smile meant to charm and fluster. It only managed to make Inara’s skin crawl.

“Very well, I’ll attend her in the parlor room.”

Inara watched them retreat up the stairway with a sense of foreboding. Shaking the feeling away, she hurried to prepare the parlor room.

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Just as Inara was preparing the room Lord and Lady Harrow entered the parlor, along with Jeremiah. For the most part they ignored her, letting Inara go about her business. A servant brought in a tray of sweet meats and tea. The conversation was centered mostly on the inner society circle, who wore what to the dance and who made a successful business deal. Inara let her mind wander as she moved to leave, so she didn’t notice when Jeremiah stuck his foot out, tripping her. She fell forward, hands out stretched, knocking over the tea cups and the tray of sweet meats. The delicate china cups shattered, pieces littering the oriental carpet. No one made a sound for a moment, but soon enough Lady Harrow was shrieking her displeasure.

“You stupid girl! Look what you have done!” Lady Harrow screamed, pointing to the cups, “Those were priceless family heirlooms!”

“What do you expect from some slave, mother? Honestly.” Jeremiah sneered as he lounged casually in the sofa chair. He smiled at Inara knowingly, superiority in his eyes.

Inara looked down, pleading. “Mistress Harrow, please forgive me.”

“Shut up! Idiot girl! You’ll have no food the rest of the week.” Lady Harrow declared angrily. “Get out of my sight!”

Inara meekly ran out of the parlor, almost running into Saffron, who had been near the door. She ignored Saffron’s knowing smirk. Inara ran until she reached the slave’s quarters, sitting down in a corner she let the angry tears fall. She ached for any type of retribution for her tormentors, instead she let memories of the past comfort her.

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The next morning Annie snuck some bread and corn meal to Inara. She was grateful to receive the gift from her friend. Her eyes stung from her crying last night and her stomach rumbled in hunger. Inara devoured the food quickly, licking the grease off her hands. She went about the day’s routine as usual. First, by doing the laundry with the other slaves, Lady Harrow insisted on all twenty-five rooms’ bed linens being changed, unused or not. Second, came the washing of the clothes and other linens. Inara would then proceed to clean the dining area along with two other slaves.

Later on in the day, Inara was dusting the library. It was beautiful place; her favorite room in the whole estate. All the walls were covered with bookcases of rich dark mahogany wood. She itched to pick up a book to read. But she didn’t, satisfying herself with gently running her fingertips along the spines, reading the titles. The soft fall of footsteps sounded behind her, Inara quickly snatched her hand away.

“You like my collection? Do you read?” Lord Harrow indicted to the bookcases, a few feet away from her.

Inara shook her head in denial, not wanting the conversation to continue.

Lord Harrow smiled patiently, hand caressing her cheek. “You are a shy one, Inara. It’s a shame I never noticed you before.You are quite lovely.”

Inara shuddered from the touch, backing away, trying to find an exit out. “Excuse me, sir. I must finish my work.”

“Come, Inara, please your Master.” Lord Harrow said patiently, blocking her way. Inara began to panic, her heart thumping loudly with fear. He had backed her into one of the bookcases; Inara’s back felt the impress of the books. Lord Harrow grasped her throat firmly. “Don’t make a sound, girl. It’ll go better for you if didn’t.”

Inara swallowed, her eyes darting around for help. The empty silence of the library was her answer. She wanted to scream but she couldn’t seem to find her voice, paralyzed in dread. Lord Harrow began to lift her skirt, cold hands climbing along her thigh; Inara was snapped awake from paralysis. She brought her knee up, slamming into his groin. Lord Harrow groaned as he fell away from her, Inara took the chance to escape. She ran, swung open the door with trembling hands, revealing Lady Harrow standing in the doorway. Inara lowered her gaze, voice shaky. “Mistress Harrow, forgive me.”

Lady Harrow narrowed her eyes at Inara as she noticed her husband getting up. “What’s going on here, Joseph?”

“Nothing, my dear. I was just telling the slave to hurry up. I found her doodling along the bookcases. You know how they are.” Lord Harrows said smoothly, expression slightly irritated as he glared at Inara.

Lady Harrow slapped Inara hard. “What did I tell you of wasting time,” she pinched Inara’s chin, “One more complaint and you will be flogged!”

Inara nodded, ignoring the pain of the slap as relief flooded through her. Keeping her eyes downcast, she hurried out of the room; her legs trembling with the effort. Without a glance behind, she dashed until reaching the kitchens, her legs giving out as Annie exclaimed at the sight of her.

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It had taken some coaxing from Annie to get Inara to talk. The girl had gone pale white, her hands trembling from nerves. “Now, tell me what happened, child.”

Inara fought back the tears, her voice quivering. “Oh, Annie…he tried to, Lord Harrow, he tried to…to.”

Annie stroked her arm in a comforting gesture. “Oh, dear, that…hundan! I had hoped after all this time. Why now?”

Inara gave a nervous laugh. “Annie, he owns me. It doesn’t matter why. The damn law is on his side. I am only a slave. Only a slave.”

Inara suddenly took hold of Annie, desperation in her eyes, shaking hands digging into the older woman’s shoulders. “How long do I have to wait for the contact?”

Annie gave a quick thought to the questions, only a few hired maids were busy with the dinner preparation. Lowering her voice, the cook answered. “They say no more than a week.”

“I can’t wait that long, he’ll…he’ll want to. It has to be sooner!” Inara pleaded, ignoring the curious glances from the maids.

Annie motioned for her to hush, noticing the attention they were causing. “I’ll try, honey, but ya gotta calm down.”

“But what can I do?” Inara contested desperately. “What if he tries again?”

“Just try to avoid him. Do ya work quickly from now on. But it’ll be soon, I promise you that. Just hang in there, child.” Annie reassured, patting her arm. “Annie James always keeps her word.”

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Three Days Later

The following days had gone by quickly, at least to Inara. She didn’t know if it was from relief that she had managed to avoid Lord Harrow’s attention or if it was from the anticipation of the go ahead from Annie’s contact. The thought that she would be free from this life, without fear of punishment, made Inara happier than she had been in her whole life. Maybe it was because she had lived such a miserable two years that she'd forgotten how it felt.

She did her chores quickly, ignoring the pain from the back breaking work. They brought her one step closer to freedom. Finishing the hallway and parlor room, Inara snuck into the kitchen to have a quick talk with Annie.

Inara was in luck, the cook was alone. Annie was busy kneading dough, her hands and arms covered in powder. Glancing up, the old woman beamed at Inara. Leaving her work aside, she checked to make sure no one was near. “It came!”

Inara tried to contain her excitement. “It did! When, how?”

“Just got it in last night. In two days you’ll meet the contact at a location. He’ll then take you to Colin Foster.”

Inara laughed, her eye sparkling with joy, hugging the old woman fiercely. “Oh, Annie, thank you! You’re the best!”

Annie fussed at the attention, swatting Inara’s arm. “Annie James always keeps her word. Don’t thank me; thank the good lord, honey. He’s the one that’s helping you.”

“Soon. I can’t believe it!” Inara said, dusting off the powder from her uniform. Soon she would taste freedom again. Soon.

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TBC- Chapter Two: A Way of Dying

Feedback: The good, the bad and the ugly or Reavers will be sent. Kiddin’ *winks*

Translations:

Hundan-Bastard

Tamade-Mother Fucker

Tchen wah- Bitch