"Lost and Found", Charlie
Title: Lost and Found
Character: Charlie
Genre: Drabble, ~300 words
Disclaimer: I own no part of Syfy's Alice.
Summary: How Charlie got that little burlap bear he keeps clinging to.
Lost and Found
Everything smelled like smoke. It was in the dirt between his toes, the leaves of the trees he slept upon, even the stream’s water tasted ashy in his mouth. The Queen had fought fire with fire… even from his hiding spot under a tree’s expansive roots, he had felt the heat of his home going up in flames.
He walked among the scarred, soot-smeared stones that marked where grand buildings had once stood. He walked down the street that had once been lined with houses, now completely flattened and echoing with old screams that refused to leave his ears.
This had been his street. He stopped in front of a mass of blackened sticks.
This had been his house.
The young squire (Was he still a squire? Did they old ways still apply when the people who had counted them important were now gone?) stepped carefully to the place where his room had been. His foot accidentally brushed too close to a piece of wood sticking out of a pile, and the slight touch set the whole pile to crumbling, covering his feet. The ashes were still warm, a lingering heat that was almost enough to warm up his cold, numb skin.
Perhaps that had been his bed. It was impossible to recognize it now.
A small bundle of burlap had been unearthed by the collapse. The boy paused, and then leaned over to pick it up, brushing off the debris that clung to its rough texture. All of this ash was making his eyes water… that’s what he would have told anyone, if they’d been there.
He hugged the bear, his bear, his Percival to his cheek, the two of them trying to forget how desperate and lost and powerless they both felt.
It was many, many years before the bear stopped smelling of smoke.
***
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Character: Charlie
Genre: Drabble, ~300 words
Disclaimer: I own no part of Syfy's Alice.
Summary: How Charlie got that little burlap bear he keeps clinging to.
Lost and Found
Everything smelled like smoke. It was in the dirt between his toes, the leaves of the trees he slept upon, even the stream’s water tasted ashy in his mouth. The Queen had fought fire with fire… even from his hiding spot under a tree’s expansive roots, he had felt the heat of his home going up in flames.
He walked among the scarred, soot-smeared stones that marked where grand buildings had once stood. He walked down the street that had once been lined with houses, now completely flattened and echoing with old screams that refused to leave his ears.
This had been his street. He stopped in front of a mass of blackened sticks.
This had been his house.
The young squire (Was he still a squire? Did they old ways still apply when the people who had counted them important were now gone?) stepped carefully to the place where his room had been. His foot accidentally brushed too close to a piece of wood sticking out of a pile, and the slight touch set the whole pile to crumbling, covering his feet. The ashes were still warm, a lingering heat that was almost enough to warm up his cold, numb skin.
Perhaps that had been his bed. It was impossible to recognize it now.
A small bundle of burlap had been unearthed by the collapse. The boy paused, and then leaned over to pick it up, brushing off the debris that clung to its rough texture. All of this ash was making his eyes water… that’s what he would have told anyone, if they’d been there.
He hugged the bear, his bear, his Percival to his cheek, the two of them trying to forget how desperate and lost and powerless they both felt.
It was many, many years before the bear stopped smelling of smoke.
***
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