Gypsy that Remains~

[Rhiannon ☽]

Title: Gypsy that Remains
Rating: All Ages
Summary: Rhiannon is a woman believed to be a witch by the people living in a nearby settlement in the late 1600's (Salem Witch Trials). She befriends Sara, a girl from that colony, a friendship that is forbidden. When Sara's brother, Clinton, follows Sara to Rhiannon's home one day, it sparks a relationship between the two that may evolve into something stronger.
Notes: Tell me what you think, I've been working on this for a few days now. It's not complete, I'll add to this post as I write more c:

The sticky air of the New World made Sara’s hair cling to the back of her neck. She missed the nice, modest weather she had once lived in back overseas in England. Why had her father agreed to travel to this disgusting wasteland? There was nothing but work to be done and too many adjustments to make in her opinion. Thankfully, she had found some time to escape the massive amount of chores she had back at home; if you could even call it a home in the first place. Granted all of the men living in their colony were working extremely hard to make this unexplored land a home, but her heart was still nestled back in England underneath a roof without holes in it.

One thing she found intriguing about this new land was the natural beauty of her outdoor surroundings. Now days Sara preferred being outdoors as opposed to inside their creaky, rickety cottage cooking or washing. Back home, buildings and lights blocked out the blanket of stars that covered the night sky. Here, she could find and pinpoint all of the constellations her school teacher had taught her about. In that way, she felt as if she fit in better here. The other girls were absorbed in learning the “ways of a woman in the home”, as her father put it, while she was more into adventure and learning things that weren’t known to many. She shared some commonality with the other young women of the colony like reading books and journaling, but they stopped there.

With a sigh, Sara figured she ought to at least try to get one of her tasks done. One of them happened to be to gather wood for her family’s fire. She would use that as an excuse for wandering around away from their growing town site. Taking a few quick steps towards a cluster of little logs, Sara nearly tripped due to the hem of her dress getting caught on a free root from a tree.

“I cannot believe we are to wear these dresses to do such tasks,” she muttered, a light English accent carrying through the silence of the thicket of woods. Using her unscathed, pale hand, Sara unhooked her hem from the sharp root and carried about gathering the wood. The snapping of a stick and the rustle of leaves behind her resulted in Sara dropping her collection, one of the pointier logs cutting her hand as it fell from it. She winced a bit, not used to the hands on work this place required. A bit of scarlet blood formed at the wound but her focus was more on the woman who approached her, coming from the bushes that had startled her moments before. The woman was beautiful, but looked different from the fair headed and rosy cheeked women from England. Her eyes were a dark brown; they stood out against her pale complexion and long, dark hair. She didn’t seem harmful in anyway, her facial expression wore no kind of aggression, just a gentle gaze. Sara had only heard of this woman from the silly rumors passed around in her colony. Then again, it was all she knew of the woman so her uncertainty was obvious when the mystical woman spoke in a foreign tone,

“I can help your wound if you like,” she offered, extending her long hand to Sara.

Sara shied away a bit; this woman was said to be some sort of sorceress or a witch. She felt horrible for just assuming such a thing based off of (in her opinion) the dim witted girls of her colony.
“People say you’re a witch. Is it true?” she asked quickly, slowly turning to face the woman.

The woman avoided the question, “I am Rhiannon,” she paused and brought her hand back to her side. “Your hand will only get worse if you don’t get aid soon…”

Sara swallowed a little, “My name is Sara. Sara Littleton.” She glanced over Rhiannon a second time, this time noting her peculiar dressing of herself. Unique, and quite pretty, but it was odd. Her dress was a deep red and it fell at her ankles, like Sara’s own dress did. It seemed much nicer, actually.

“Where did you come from? You don’t look or sound like anyone I’ve hear before,” Sara said cautiously, not wanting to upset the woman with her pressing questions and curiosity.

“You ask many questions, Sara,” she mused. “Let me help, and then you can return to your family.”

“Yes and you keep avoiding them,” Sara thought as she followed Rhiannon to wherever it was she was leading her. The woman was right, her hand was beginning to sting and slowly get worse.

Soon, after a short walk of silence, Rhiannon brought Sara to a small structure similar to the one her father had built for her family. The boards creaked under the weight of both women, not used to supporting two bodies.

“This life is a hard transition from life across the ocean, yes?”

Rhiannon asked as she brought over some kind of medicinal goo. Sara hesitated in giving her hand up to the so called witch but didn’t have a choice when Rhiannon applied it to her. It stung quite a bit, but it soon stopped and felt as if there hadn’t been a cut there at all. She had to be a witch. Surprised, Sara replied to her question,

“Yes it is. I wish I were back home, this whole idea of “expanding”-as my father says- is ridiculous, I think. How do you live here? All alone too?”

Rhiannon smiled a little, “I visited England a long time ago. I was just a child,” she said. “Give these lands a chance; I believe there is something here for everyone. So much promise. Like my herbs and medicines for example, I don’t feel so alone when I am constantly working with them,” Rhiannon explained to the wide eyed girl.

“I have watched your colony over the past months. All of you work very hard building, I’ve noticed,” she said, wrapping Sara’s much smaller hand in a little cloth.

Sara shook her head, “No one has medicine like this, why haven’t you come and visited our town?”

Rhiannon laughed softly, “Well, I don’t think I’d be welcome there.”

“Why not?” Sara asked, immediately wishing she hadn’t. She felt like a hypocrite and the woman took no time in calling her out on it, but in a subliminal way.

“Well, from what I’ve heard people think I practice witchcraft. I do not think your people will take kindly to a woman believed to be a sorceress.”

“But if you’re not-“

Rhiannon smiled and gently guided the interrogating girl out her door, “You’re right, I am not one. Witches are merely a fantasy and do not exist. But the sun is setting and I’m sure your mother is worrying.”

Sara opened her mouth to say goodbye but Rhiannon had already closed her door, wishing the girl on her way. As she passed the spot where she had dropped the logs, she picked them all up again and made her trek home.

Sara refrained from rolling her eyes at the dinner table. Her parents had been worried sick about her, and then proceeded to get upset about how much work she had left undone. Apparently her older sister was far too busy doing this and that and couldn’t be of assistance. Sara giggled to herself, Clarice had probably been “busy” being courted by someone, or so she had told her.

“Sara what is that on your hand?” Her mother inquired, not have noticing it before.

Sara sighed, annoyed with herself. She had forgotten to give Rhiannon her bandage back. Plus, now, she had to explain to her family (minus her sister who wasn’t present) how this woman whom everyone whispered about helped her.

“It’s not anything to fuss about, mother… I was simply gathering firewood like you asked and cut my hand when the logs slipped from my hands,” she said. Okay it was only the half-truth, but she didn’t want them to go after Rhiannon, her colony could get out of control when it came to foreign or unknown people interacting with them.
Her mother tapped her hand with one finger where the bandage was and asked,

“The bandage. Where did you get it?”

Sara loved her parents, but they got way too nosy for their own good sometimes. She swallowed and removed it from her hand, the cut pretty much healed and scabbed over.

“Rhiannon,” she said simply. When her mother gave her a blank stare in return, Sara sighed and closed her eyes before saying, “You know, the woman everyone thinks is a witch?”

“Sara! We’ve warned you to avoid her and any other unknown people you come across!”

“Mother, she isn’t a witch though! She simply makes
these…medicines that really work. They work quite well; my cut was much larger earlier this evening and now it’s as if it wasn’t even there!”

Her mother was about to go into one of her famous frenzies about how Sara never did as she was told when her levelheaded father spoke up to calm her mother.

“Sara is not hurt in any way. If anything, this woman needs to be thanked for helping one of our young women. No one has proof that this lady is practicing witchcraft,” he said calmly. Sara grinned, thankful for her father’s reasonable disposition. He was one of the leaders of their colony so Sara hoped they may welcome Rhiannon into their town. Maybe she was getting ahead of herself, but the woman seemed so alone.

“I’ll see if we can offer any assistance to her in exchange for her help to you, Sara,” he said. “And as your mother was going to say, please don’t wander off before house tasks are complete.”

Sara was too happy to be irritated with her father’s final request as she excused herself from the table. She was glad they were going to go talk to the gentle woman; she seemed like someone who could benefit her new home after all. Maybe with a friend, this place would seem more enjoyable.

CHAPTER 2

Despite her parent’s requests, Sara continued to visit Rhiannon for another two weeks and planned to continue her daily visits for a while. The woman was living all alone after all. She was quite fascinating while also being the most kindhearted woman she’d ever met. What made Sara enjoy her so much was all of the different experiences she had. It was amazing to her; Rhiannon couldn’t be a year older than twenty five. At least she looked in her mid twenties, no telling what kind of brew she cooked up to keep herself young looking. Sara mentally kicked herself; Rhiannon had told her on many occasions she wasn’t that type of witch. Actually, she had told her there was no such thing as that kind of witch (brooms, wands, cauldrons, etc.). The other day Sara heard her say she considered herself more of a gypsy rather than a witch.

As she crossed the little creek on the way to Rhiannon’s little cottage, Sara couldn’t help but feel a sense of jealousy towards her new friend. She had all the freedom in the world to do whatever she pleased at any time she wanted to do it. No parents to tell her no, no rules, and no silly “lady-like” protocols to follow either. The fact that she was simply beautiful was just icing on the cake. She wished the other town’s folk would have been willing to give her a chance at living amongst them like her father had suggested to them, merely to thank her for helping with Sara’s wound. Of course, they all disagreed and weren’t too keen on allowing Rhiannon into their home. Even her mother, whom was definitely not as calm and level as her father, was totally against that idea.

Sara turned her head to the distant sound of a large waterfall that lie behind Rhiannon’s home. Rhiannon had told Sara at one point about a ‘haven’ that her people used to gather that was located near those falls once every full moon. It sounded a bit eerie to Sara but by now the ethereal ways of her gypsy-witch friend weren’t near as odd; in fact they were beginning to sound appealing compared to the rigid way of life her colony lived.

“So Rhiannon, my brother is finally coming over from England to live here,” Sara exclaimed after greeting the older woman.

Rhiannon smiled as she wiped her mirror of stray dust, “Oh how nice! What is his name?”

“Clinton. Everyone calls him Clint, though,” Sara said. “He had to stay overseas to finish the rest of his medical school before he came with us. Mother says he’ll help out our own doctor once he arrives.”
“How interesting, I’m sure your family will be happy to see him again. When is he set to arrive?”

“Tomorrow! I’d introduce you but he’s exactly like all the others that think you’re…” Sara didn’t finish.

Rhiannon chuckled softly as she sat down next to Sara on the foot of her bed,

“Weird? Different? Peculiar? Sara go on and say it, I’ve heard it all before and am not bothered in the least amount by it.”

Sara smiled, “I think you’re great. Interesting too, I mean, are there are more like you here?”

Rhiannon took down Sara’s long, blonde hair and softly ran her fingers through it, preparing to braid it. She smiled shortly and answered as she braided,

“There are, yes. Most of us came here together, actually,” Rhiannon began. “We tend to stay scattered by family and then once each moon, we meet at what we call Haven Falls.”

“Where’s your family?”

“My mother and father live together. I’m not sure where, at the moment. They stay true to the way of life we lived back in Europe; constantly moving from area to area. I found it tiring so I decided to live on my own in one place,” she explained.

Sara’s blue eyes went wide, “You mean they don’t have one home? They’re always moving around?”

“Mmhmm,” Rhiannon said, nodding. “They see and experience a lot that way. It’s dangerous at times though.”

“Lucky… I wish I was a gypsy,” Sara pouted. “What are their names?”

“Cini is my mother and Mestipen is my father,” she answered, scoffing lightheartedly at the face Sara made.

“Those are funny names… My mother is Diane and my father is Jonathon,” Sara said, running her hand over the newly braided mass of hair on her head. “And my sister is Clarice.”

Sara decided to go home after she noticed the sun starting to set. She was excited about seeing her brother for the first time in months. She was proud of him too, he was a doctor now! She bid Rhiannon a goodbye and left.

CHAPTER 3

Clinton took a deep breath of the air of his new home. He felt a sense of freshness as he trekked towards the colony his father was helping run. He could hardly contain his happiness about seeing his family again. He had missed them; but he knew the long walk from the beach where the boat had dropped him and the needed supplies England had sent along would take some getting used to.
He looked towards a thicket of trees when he heard the whinny of a horse. Clint set off in that direction, thinking he was headed right to his new area of residence. He rounded a large tree and saw a single cottage with a nicely built pen containing two horses. There didn’t seem to be anyone home, the windows were dark and smoke wasn’t coming from the chimney. He noticed the distant sound of a waterfall coming from somewhere behind the house he was observing. Clint walked over to the red colored stallion and stroked his thick neck.

All of a sudden, he felt the wind of a small blade as it was thrown inches from his face, landing blade first into a tree trunk behind him. He jumped and turned around to see a small woman, obviously the one who owned the property.

“What are you doing and why are you here?” Rhiannon demanded, setting down the bucket of water she had gone to get. “I only miss once…”

Clint swallowed and looked at this lady like she was insane. Her dark hair had fallen in her face, the darkness of her eyes enhancing.

“Easy, lady, I’m not going to hurt anything. I’m just going to the settlement that’s nearby.”

Rhiannon relaxed a bit, but remained cautious towards him. Was this possibly Sara’s brother? He was supposed to come today after all. He reminded her of Sara, their faces were similar. They had the same blue eyes, but his hair was dark brown and curly, similar to her hair.

“They didn’t send you?” She asked warily. Rhiannon never knew what these people were going to do. Some of them seemed personable and other so hostile towards anything unorthodox.
Clint shook his head, raising his hands to show her he wasn’t armed with anything but his back pack.

“No… Why would they send me?”

“Never mind,” she said, cursing under her breath. She didn’t need more people thinking she was a witch. “You’re Clinton Littleton, aren’t you?”

He narrowed his eyes, “Who’s asking?”

“…I overheard some people speaking of you the other day,” she lied. Rhiannon didn’t want to get Sara into trouble. “I’m Rhiannon.”

“Right… I’ll be going now,” he said, awkwardly making his way away from the mysterious woman and towards the colony. He was relieved to see people scurrying about as he walked down the dirt path into the center of town.

“CLINT,” he heard Sara screech. He turned on his heels and grinned, scooping up his twelve year old sister in his arms. “Clint! You’re finally here! I’ve missed you so much, you have no idea!”

He laughed and set her down, “Missed you too, kid. Where are mom, dad and Clarice?”

“Mom’s at the house, Clarice is with that James boy somewhere,” she said, rolling her eyes. “And dad is doing something boring in the courthouse with Mr. Jackson.”

Lawrence Jackson was the leader of their town. He was an older man, probably in his late fifties, early sixties, and absolutely hated disorder in the community. He was feared by many of Sara’s classmates. He was nice to the Littleton’s though, since her dad worked with him on many different things.

Clint nodded. He’d have to ask about Rhiannon later, everyone seemed busy. He glanced down at his sister, who was rattling on about some new friend she made.

“…her name is Rhiannon. I wonder if people call her Ann. Or Annie…”
He paused, “You know Rhiannon? That dark haired lady who lives just outside of town?”

Sara stopped as well, “Well…yeah. But mom and dad don’t know I go see her. They and everyone else in this town thinks she’s some kind of witch.” Sara begged, “Clint please, please, please don’t tell Mum and Dad, they’ll have my head. And her’s too, they think she’s dangerous but she’s really kind and I like her a lot...”

He gaped at his kid sister. This woman threw knives for heaven’s sake, how on earth did Sara come about meeting her? No way was he going to let her go by herself to go visit this crazed woman. Clint cleared his throat,

“She’s more dangerous than you think. Take me with you when you go see her this evening,” he said.

“But Clint, she’s not-,”

“Sara, please just let me come. One time, just so I can be sure,” he assured her.

“Ugh, fine. You’re ridiculous,” she pouted. Sara rolled her eyes when he ruffled her hair.

“Missed you too, kid.”

That evening, Sara led Clint through the trees towards Rhiannon’s house. She was a little embarrassed that her brother was coming with her. He had played along and told their parents that Sara had wanted to show him something. She loved that about Clint, he was willing to have a little fun and not be such a grown up. Clarice was no fun; she was seventeen and all too grown up for her own good.

“Rhiannon, it’s Sara,” she said softly, knocking. “And my stupid brother,” she added dryly.

As Rhiannon opened the door, she smiled at Sara, but her sweet expression faltered a little at the sight of her brother.

“He made me bring him. Clint thinks you’re dangerous…”

Rhiannon closed the door behind them and crossed her arms, looking up at the much taller man and giving him a disapproving stare.

“Huh. Haven’t even lived here a full day and they’ve already got you thinking I’m some kind of monster, do they?” Rhiannon asked in a sarcastic tone.

Clint raised his brow and smirked, retorting, “That’s your own fault, Annie, you’re the one who threw a knife at my head.”

“You were trespassing and I hadn’t seen you before,” Rhiannon said, uncrossing her arms and walking over to her table where Sara sat, giggling softly. “And don’t call me that…”

“You threw a knife at him?” Sara asked, laughing.

“Nice to know you’re concerned,” Clint muttered.

“If I’d have known who he was, I wouldn’t have,” Rhiannon said to Sara. That was her subtle way of apologizing.

Sara giggled and pointed at her brother, teasing, “Clint, a girl almost put a hole in your head!”

He felt his cheeks flush red. Even though most considered him rather handsome, he felt like her looked absolutely horrid when he got embarrassed. Changing the topic of discussion, he asked,
“So why don’t you live with the rest of us?”

Rhiannon scoffed, “I don’t think I’d fit in very nicely over in that town of yours.”

Sara frowned and shook her head. She knew if people would just accept the fact that Rhiannon wasn’t any kind of threat to anyone, they’d all love her.

“So Sara tells me you’re not a witch,” Clint began. “If this is the case, are you by chance Wicca?”

She narrowed her eyes, “I am. And it’s not devil worship; I know what people say about it.”

Sara rolled her eyes and huffed, “Okay, okay Clint; you see she’s not dangerous, can you go home now?”

Rhiannon let out a soft guffaw, “Oh Sara it’s no big deal really.”

Clint ignored his sister and continued, “I know it isn’t. I just remember reading about some aspects of it in school and was curious.”

“What is a Wicca?” Sara asked, feeling a tad left out of the conversation. She was annoyed with her brother; she wished he would have just stayed home and not come along.

Rhiannon answered, “A Wicca is a man or a woman who believes and worships in the ways of the natural world. We, in a sense,” she said, eying Clint, “are witches, but not in any way dark.”

“They’re like healers,” added Clint. “It’s what the word means.”

“I don’t get why that’s a bad thing,” said Sara, shrugging.

“It isn’t a bad thing, Wicca is just different than your own religion and sometimes unorthodox beliefs frighten some people,” explained Rhiannon.

Clint was going to say something else but Sara cut him off, noticing the setting sun. She prodded his arm,
“Clint we should go. Mother is going to be beside herself with worry…”

He frowned as he stood up. Now he wished that they could stay longer; Rhiannon had been interesting to speak to. Clint walked behind Sara to the door, Rhiannon following them. She looked a little sad that they were leaving; he could only imagine how lonely it was for her.

“Bye Rhiannon, I’ll see you tomorrow,” Sara said, hugging the woman before stepping outside.

“Goodbye Sara, Clint,” she said, nodding to both of them.

He cleared his throat and smirked over his shoulder teasingly, “See you around, Annie.”