realmofvane:

Backstory Month: Charles Vane – Childhood

G U A R D I A N  by RebelGeneral

Summary: Although he did not grow up to be a kind man, Charles would not even understand the sentiment had it not been for Corrick. 

The first memories he had were those in bondage. The sound of the lash against bare skin cutting deep enough to erase all that had been there before. Any soft sounds of those who held him dear vanished, all soothing caresses of perhaps a mother stood a haze his mind would soon deem to be a trick, and any memory of a calm presence to hold him close became more and more a fantasy.

His only reality was the looming figure of his Captain, towering and formidable, casting a shadow upon his body, as he wielded the loathsome whip for the hundredth time. Charles Vane never begged. The absence of screams only served to prolong his suffering, until the whip bearer himself would exhaust and break. That was the only victory he knew for a long time.

There was one man in the camp, a stranger. At first, Charles had paid him no heed. An old man of seventy, so scrawny and weak he could see outlines of the rib cage upon his chest as he heaved and carried the meager supply of water to the slaves. Far from being able bodied to either cut or carry the logs, his place was far beneath even him and the rest of the slaves. The only use Albinus put him to was to do errands such as this, until, they all undoubtedly hoped, he would finally give way to his toils and labors and succumb to the afterlife. Men like him were not an investment, but a burden and every time Charles saw him, a rush of pity took over. Perhaps death would be a mercy after all. Nobody would mourn this man the day he passed on, same as him.

His stomach turned. Perhaps their fates weren’t so different after all.

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