Fireweed

One

Trigger warning: This chapter contains some violence, abuse, and non-explicit references to sexual assault.

Lilly thought she'd have to be burning in Hell to ever miss her master's land. But when she found herself crammed into the tight closet of his ship's great cabin with a screaming baby pressed to her chest, Dr. Colle's lavish mansion and rolling fields suddenly didn't seem so bad.

It wasn't like Lilly had stepped onto that ship expecting a smooth trip. Actually, she had been dreading it for weeks. It was bad enough living with her master on his property, large as it was.  But the thought of being trapped on a small ship with him for Heaven knew how long? Burning in Hell might have been preferable. Besides, Lilly had never even been on a boat. The very idea of being completely removed from any trace of soil or grass...it was just terrifying. Why did she even have to come? What use was she on a business trip? A nurse to baby Ryan, sure, but why bring him along? Why would the master, who showed only a very minimal amount of interest in his son, suddenly decide to pack up the cradle and drag a four-month old baby across the ocean?

Lilly was a timid beauty.  Everything about her seemed delicate and frail.  She ate well these days, being that she was nursing the master's son and all.  But a few months of good meals couldn't undo a lifetime of undernourishment.  She was very thin.  Not as sickly thin as she had once been, but she was certainly under a healthy weight.  She wasn't very tall either, standing almost precisely five feet tall.  She had a round, childlike face that came to a gentle point at her chin, and a pair of crystal blue-green eyes.  Her skin was regally pale.  Everything about her radiant, bright.  Her complexion, her eyes, even her outlook.   But her hair was a splash of darkness against it all.  It was the deepest shade of black there was, and it was so long that it came to her ankles.  She kept it in a tight braid behind her, if only to keep it tame.

Dr. Colle hadn't told Lilly where they were going, how long they'd be gone, or even how long it would take them to get there. And Lilly had known better than to ask. Her skin was riddled with reasons not to: burn scars, whip scars, scars from the teeth of his dogs. When it came to the master, no one spoke unless spoken to. Even his paid employees had too much fearful respect to question him. Lilly had been under his thumb since she was four years old. First as a field slave, then as a house slave, and now as a nursemaid to his son. Well...their son, not that he had any intention of acknowledging that. Dr. Colle had made it clear that Ryan was his, and Lilly didn't dare challenge him.

"Shhhh, Ryan," Lilly pleaded in the dark, bouncing the screaming baby in her arms. "Hush. It's okay."

But a shrill scream from someone out on the deck begged to differ, and Lilly whimpered as the child's cries grew even louder.

They had barely been out to sea two days when Lilly was awoken by the boom of a cannon. She had been dozing off with Ryan in her arms, sitting on the floor by his crib, when the horrible sound had stirred her. At first, Lilly had figured it was thunder, as it was already raining a bit. But the ship had rocked violently in response, too violently for the mild rain, and Lilly had felt as though a tight fist had closed around her heart, squeezing so hard that she couldn't breathe. She had been paralyzed with terror.

For the first time in her life, Dr. Colle's appearance had been a relief to her. He had been at the door in an instant. He had stood calm and collected in the doorway of his cabin, his hands folded behind his back. He was a man of imposing size, standing nearly six feet tall. And though he was lean and clearly unaccustomed to physical labor of any kind, he carried an air of unquestionable power about him. His hair, though thinning and a little gray, was a bright orange, as were his eyes. He was a pyro, the most basic kind of fire elemental.