literature

fairytales. // america x reader

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North Carolina—or what is to become so, 1590

//

She sat in a tree, swinging her legs. The wind blew, rustling the leaves and disturbing her (h/c) hair. Her body was draped in the pelts of various animals—mostly small ones, such as foxes or rabbits—and her feet protected by traditional moccasins. A midriff-style shirt woven tightly from grasses was her top and a skirt of the same material was her bottom. Strapped to her back was a quiver of arrows, while in her hand she held fast to the bow to which they belonged. She had the bow aimed and pulled back, her target a rabbit she intended to be her dinner, and let go. The sharpened stone pierced the rabbit and it immediately stopped moving, scarlet liquid leaking from the wound. She grinned. She was just about to jump down from her spot in the tree when she heard a crunch. She froze. No one had been here for years; it had always been her, alone. She must be hearing things.

‘Who the hell could be here?’ She thought to herself. Another crunch. She decided to take a look. She climbed down silently.

She crept over, treading lightly, to where she thought she'd heard the sound. She climbed up another tree. A small twig broke off in the process and she flinched, then froze, waiting to see if whoever was here would find her. She waited with bated breath for a few more seconds before scampering up the rest of the way. Once at a good spot in the tall oak, she steadied her breathing and waited. After a few excruciatingly long heartbeats, two men came into view. They both had blond hair, though one had green eyes and the other blue. The man with green eyes was shorter and had eyebrows resembling caterpillars, which made her furrow her own brows—how strange, she’d never seen anything like that before. The man with the blue eyes had an obscure cowlick-like piece of hair sticking up and glasses. Both were dressed the same, more or less. They both had rifles on their backs and those black leather knee-high boots she had never really taken a liking towards. Their pants were tucked into their boots and were made of cotton (as far as she could tell), but the green-eyed man’s pants were darker brown than the blue-eyed man’s pants. Their shirts were the loose, blouse type you usually find people wearing on ships and both were extremely dirty, though once looked to be white.

//

“We’re lost,” The green-eyed man said.

“No, we’re not. I think, I, of all people, would know where it is,” The blue-eyed man replied.

“Well then why’ve we been walking for three hours longer than planned?” The green-eyed man quipped.

“Quit complaining, would you? You’re dampening my spirit.”

“I wouldn’t complain if you would stick to the plan.”

“I’d stick to the plan if it was a good plan.”

“It was a good plan!”

They bickered for a while more. It seemed they did that often, but then again, she hadn’t been around people in so long it could be the dead opposite. She wondered what they were looking for. If it was gold (or any type of riches, for that matter), they wouldn't find it. She jumped down from her spot in the tree, landing in front of them.

“So you’re lost,” She said to them.

Startled, the green-eyed man let out a strange sound, but quickly regained his composure and soon enough, the barrels of two guns were pointed directly at her.

“Who are you?” The blue-eyed man asked.

She tilted her head. “No, you can’t ask that. Only I can ask ‘Who are you?’ Because this is me, I am here, I have been here, I will always be here. And you—you are strange and you are new, and most of all, you are frightened.” She replied.

“W-What? Answer the question! Who the bloody hell are you?” The green-eyed man asked, confused and flustered. He made a point of shoving his gun in her face.

She walked forward, bow still in hand, until her forehead was pressed up against the barrel of his gun. He froze. Obviously shocked at her boldness, he barely dared to twitch—an eyebrow, a finger, a lip. She reached up and put her hand over his, then used her other hand to remove the weapon from his grasp. It practically fell from his grasp as he stayed transfixed.

“It’s just an object. It doesn’t mean what you think,”[1] She said.

His companion still had a gun pointed to her head. She closed her eyes and raised the gun, aiming it at said companion’s head.

“It’s just an object. It doesn’t mean what you think,” She repeated, opening her eyes and locking her (e/c) gaze with his.

“O-Oi! O-Okay, let’s calm down—“ He started.

“I am calm,” She interrupted.

“R-Right, well, put down the gun—“

She interrupted again. “You brought the guns. You pointed them first. Why are you scared? It’s just an object,” She pointed out.

“I’m putting down mine, okay? You put down yours,” He said, setting the rifle on the forest floor.

She nodded, then set the gun down. “You are lost,” She said, bringing the conversation—if it could even be considered that—back to the initial statement.

The green-eyed man nodded. “Unfortunately, we are. I’m Arthur Kirkland, by the way,” He said, holding a hand out to shake. She didn’t take it.

“And I’m Alfred Jones,” The blue-eyed man smiled. “Sorry about—“ She cut him off.

“Red!” She shouted. “Little Red Riding Hood has entered my woods. If you’re not careful, you’ll bring about the Big Bad Wolf,” She said. She watched them both carefully. She knew something--she was trying to warn them, but they weren’t getting it. She grabbed an arrow from her quiver and placed it in her bow, aiming it at Alfred. “Go away, we’re all done baking here. Don’t keep the oven on too long, you’ll skip fairytales and end up an oven-child,” She added.

He started backing up, as she advanced with her bow. “W-What? What are you talking about?” He asked, distraught.

She turned to his friend, but kept the arrow aimed towards him. “He found lemons, Arthur, watch your eyes—he’ll burn you too. He wants to make lemonade but his mama never taught him how,” She whispered, her eyes wide.

“Listen, girl, we have no idea—“ Arthur started. She stopped him short by shooting off an arrow right above Alfred’s head.

Alfred backed up more. “No idea, huh? Well, neither did she—she had no idea. But did they care? No, no. No, they left her for the Big Bad Wolf and told her ‘Here, have this red cloak! You’ll blend right in.’ And then they told her ‘Go! Take care of granny. Come back and we’ll have more goodies for your basket.’ So she did! She left and took care of granny, but when she came back, no one was there. They had no more goodies for her basket,” She said, stepping closer and closer until she had him backed up against a tree.

She let another arrow go, this time clipping Alfred’s shirt to the tree. Arthur rushed over to help him, and when they pulled the arrow from the tree and removed the cloth from it, they noticed a word carved onto the tree. The word, however, made no sense. It hardly sounded like a real word.

“Croatoan?” Arthur read aloud. Alfred turned around.

“Where did the girl go?” He asked.

“..She just…disappeared…” Arthur replied, though it was more of another question.

“Well, she’ll be fine, I guess. Let’s get back to looking. We need to find Roanoke before sundown,” Alfred said, turning and starting walking again.

//

North Carolina, present-day

//

She sat in the same tree, swinging her legs once more—a habit she’d acquired.

“And as the story goes, they never did find the Lost Colony of Roanoke Island,” She whispered, to no one but herself. She looked down, twirling a pine needle in her fingers. “I suppose they didn’t, did they? She’s gone, now. Maybe she was gone, then, too,” She mumbled. “But I tried, I swear--I tried to stay. It was hard, very hard, much too hard. The winds were too cold and the grounds too dry and she never thought for a second. Never thought. Yes. She understands, but she doesn't comprehend.”[2]
This was written for this contest.

[1] Firefly reference! River Tam's words from episode 14, Objects in Space.

[2] Another Firefly reference. Same character and episode. c: 

If you'd like to see this scene, it's here about 4:10 to 5:30. It's a beautifully made scene, both the filming and the dialog, and Summer Glau is an amazing actress. Even though you probably don't watch the show, I recommend watching the scene, if for nothing else than to see the tone of voice.

Also, in a brief explanation, the reader is a girl, just to make reading easier/more smooth--I'm very sorry if I offended anyone, it's just that the majority of my readers are girls, so I went with majority rules to avoid breaking the story up too much. Also, the reader is 'talking crazy' because she is the personification of Roanoke Island/the colony of Roanoke.

If you don't know the story, this colony had been tried and failed twice. First in 1585, but hurricanes, natives, and starvation forced them back in 1586. The second and final attempt was in 1587. They started rebuilding everything, but were running low on supplies. John White went back to England for more supplies, but was held up until 1590 because of the war with Spain. When he returned, everyone was gone and all that remained was the word 'Croatoan' carved into a tree. 
Obviously, I've twisted and changed the story to my needs, so, yeah, the fanfic you just read isn't accurate, but the info above is.

Back to my main point. You, the reader, are the personification of the colony of Roanoke Island. The mental toll of not only being failed and re-settled, failed again and then (to the outside world) vanishing, would drive a person crazy. The way I wrote it, though, is the reader seems crazy to everyone else, when really they aren't--they've just been isolated for so long they speak in riddles. Their brain is so muddled they can't speak it correctly or plainly. And all of your other senses have been heightened from being cut off from any supplies and having to survive alone like that. So plug in hearing every rustle, bump and twitch and seeing every little motion along with the already strained mental state and you've got yourself what the public sees as an insane asylum escapee. 

Ah, yes! And it's with America because though technically it was one of England's colonies, I already have an England reader-insert and all that land would later become America, so. And, if you figured it out, she gave England a warning about the impending revolution. c; 

Yeah...I smudged history...Shhh..
© 2014 - 2024 exlineal-kings
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DakotaSouth13's avatar
Amazing! I've always loved the story of Roanoke Island. And you pulled it all together without revealing anything! You are a fantastic writer!