Note: I do not own, Anna Strong, or Annabelle Cole, Selah Strong or any other character in this story. The only one i do own is Aylee Strong, my own character. All other credit goes to AMC and not to me. Anyone who reads this, let me know what you think and if i should make this a story. ask me what it's about and i will tell you.
I was serving drinks at the tavern when Annabelle Cole came in through the door. I frowned. I did not like her coming in here; all she was trying to do was cause trouble. To my horror, she came over to me. “May I have a drink, please,” she said nastily. “Yes you may,” I said as politely as I could. I poured Annabelle a cup and set it in front of her. She smiled, taking the cup, standing up, walking over to the carpet and dumping the contents of the cup all over it. I ran over to her, grabbing the cup from her hands, horrified. “What are you doing?!” she looked at me smugly. “Oh I’m sorry, was I not supposed to waste perfectly good ale at your tavern,” she said. “No you’re not, your being disrespectful,” I said. “Really,” she said, smirking at me. “Just like those hot-heads over in Yorktown were not supposed to toss fine tea into the harbor, no?” I blanched. I didn’t like were this was going. “Just what are your intentions, Miss Cole?” “Well, it seems to me that your family do not much care for Redcoats, I heard about the scuffle in here 2 weeks ago, the one where your father assaulted a Redcoat,” she said. I clenched my fists. “My father was defending me and my mother, Robeson was speaking ill of the Patriots, my father saw it was upsetting me and mother, so he told Robeson to get out, and a brawl ensued,” I said. “Yes, your Father assaulted Captain Joyce, and now he’s dead, either your or your mother did it to get revenge.” “Don’t talk about my mother like that, Miss Cole,” I warned. She ignored me. “Face it, your Patriot sympathizers, you’re a bad lot, and I’m pretty sure if your father wasn’t on a prison ship, he’d be dumping tea into Boston Harbor as well,” said Annabelle. I was getting angry now. “Annabelle, you’re crossing a line, I’d like you to leave,” I said as calmly as I could. Annabelle ignored me and continued talking. “Let’s face it, your father was pretending to be a loyalist when he wasn’t one at all, he’s a traitor!’ that was it, that was the last straw. I raised my hand, and slapped Annabelle across the face as hard as I could. She stumbled backwards, hand on her face, shocked. “My father is not a traitor, you are!” the little boy slave saw me and Annabelle, and ran outside. “Oh, look who’s going to tattle to mommy,” said Annabelle. I came over to her. “Your banned from my tavern, now leave,” I said. “You can’t do that, I have every right to be here,” she said. “Not if you’re here to cause trouble, which you are,” I said, practically seething now. “You know I could report you,” she said. “Then I’ll just tell them you provoked me, who are they going to believe Annabelle, me, or you?!” “Me obviously,” said Annabelle. “I can’t wait till they throw you in jail for murder and assault,” said Annabelle. I clenched my fist, and punched her square in the face. Annabelle cried out in pain, just as Anna and a man entered. “Aylee Strong!” Ignoring her, I grabbed a fistful of Annabelle’s hair and pulled her close to me. “Watch what you say about my family, you are banned, leave,” I said, shoving her to the ground and kicking her. “Aylee, stop!” the man came over and held me back as I tried to attack Annabelle again. “Calm down lass, she learned her lesson, let her go now,” he said to me calmly. “Let me go, I’m not finished with her!” I screamed, thrashing to get away from the man. The man held unto me tightly. “Yes you are lass, look at her, haven’t you done enough,” he said. I looked down at Annabelle and saw her bruised cheek, and her eye which was turning black and blue. She was also in tears. She stood up. “You’ll pay for that,” she said, running out the tavern door. The man behind me let me go, and I sank to the floor in a heap, tears falling down my face. Anna came over to me, helping me up. “Aylee, whatever did she do to upset you so,” my mother said to me. “She said we murdered Captain Joyce and that Selah is a traitor!” “And she dumped ale on the carpet; she came out here to pick a fight, that’s all she came here for!” Anna hugged me, and I sobbed into her shoulder. The man came over to us. “Is this your daughter you were telling me about, Annie,” he asked. Anna nodded. “This is Aylee, Selah adopted her from Boston.” I raised my head to look at the man. He had black hair, a full beard, and a wide brimmed hat with yellow ribbon around it. “Who is this mother,” I asked.
