TITLE: Little Chaucer
CHALLENGE: Picture Challenge
UNIVERSE: The Revolution
MAJOR CHARACTERS: Ezra
RATING: G
ARCHIVE: Yes
SPOILERS: None
NOTES: The is my second story in my new AU set in the American
Revolution.  I love flashbacks, so here's another one.
DISCLAIMER: Don't own em.
AUTHOR: Lady Catherine Dunbar (Kelly)
EMAIL: kellyg49@hotmail.com

Captain Ezra Standish pulled his black tri cornered hat down over his eyes as a lobster back regiment came marching towards him along the oak covered road.

Ezra passed the regiment with a touch of his hat and a "God save the king," which instantly put the colonel and his men at ease.  The colonel smiled slightly, giving him a respectful nod, which Ezra returned politely.

Once Standish had passed the regiment, he urged Chaucer into a center. He could not help but smile at the smug expression he had seen on the Colonel's face- that completes reassurance of dominance.

It irritated the hell out of the others: the British sense of superiority.  Ezra on the other hand seemed to revel in their behavior.  He would hold polite conversation with the British, letting them believe that they were in control.  Then, when their guard was down, Ezra would insult them in a witty manner or show them up in some subtle manner, completely taking the Brits by surprise, and embarrassing them to no end.

Ezra guided Chaucer down the lane, the large oaks providing him with shade from the steady sun of a Virginian autumn.  He tugged uncomfortably at his ill fitting brown coat, could not wait to get back to camp and into his own fine uniform.  Mr. Larabee better appreciate this, he thought as his stomach growled.

After another half an hour, the row of oaks broke off to the right, revealing a mud-churned path leading to a run down mansion.  The garden of the white columned home was overgrown, half the porch had collapsed and the paint was peeling.  Broken furniture lay broken and discarded in the doorway and along the path.  The British had taken what they needed for fire wood and left.  The family, most likely patriots, had probably fled months before.  Another glory brought to us by the British crown, Ezra thought bitterly.

He dismounted Chaucer, leading him to the mansion.  He knew Vin would chide him for not being more cautious, but the regiment he had passed on the road had obviously been the ones to last inhabit the mansion and Ezra doubted that they had left anyone behind.

Tying Chaucer's reins loosely to a column, Ezra stepped carefully up the porch steps, drawing his pistol, just in case.

Ezra quickly made a round of the mansion, finding it uninhabited and fairly sound.  Yes, it would do quite nicely.

Returning to Chaucer, Ezra untied his reins and mounted, glad that he could now return to camp and his own clothes.


"Not too bad, Ez," Vin Tanner complimented as he stood in the middle of what had once been the ballroom.  Now, instead of dancing ladies and gallant gentleman, simple soldiers occupied the once grand room, setting out their bedrolls, if they had them.  Most of them did not mind if they had to sleep on the hard floor without blankets though, at least they were out of the weather, for once.
   
"Thank you, Mr. Tanner.  I have my moments," Ezra replied.  He had had his dinner and now stood dressed in his uniform, his blood warmed from the bourbon he was sipping from his flask.

"Once in awhile," Nathan quipped as he wrapped a soldier's bleeding feet.

Ezra raised an eyebrow at the ex-slave, even though a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.  Even though he and Nathan still had certain rough spots, he knew the healer appreciated the South Carolinian's various skills, one of which was spying.

"This ain't half bad, Ez," young JD said as he entered the room, whistling in appreciation.

Ezra bowed gallantly.  "I do my best to keep you warm and dry Master Dunne."

"I don't know 'bout the rest of you, but I'm going to go get me some shuteye," Vin said, stretching.

"Well put Mr. Tanner," Ezra agreed.  Vin and Ezra nodded to JD and Nathan and left the ballroom and entered the entry hall where Chris and Buck were talking.

"Where you two headed?" Buck asked.

"Thought we'd go find a place to get some shut eye," Vin said.

Chris eyed the two men, who had definitely earned an early rest.  He did not care what anyone said about the character or upbringing, Vin and Ezra were the best tracker and spy he had ever known.

He nodded.  "You two go ahead.  I'll send somebody to get yeah if anything comes up."

"Which probably won't happen," Buck added.  "British ain't even close, right Ez?"

"As far as I can tell Mr. Wilmington, the closest regiment marched away from here six hours ago."

"Best damn thing I've heard all week," Buck exclaimed.

"I'll second that," Chris added.

"If you excuse me gentleman, I am going to go find a room with a fireplace."

"I'll second that one Ez," Vin said. 

Ezra tipped his hat to Chris and Buck before heading up the stairs, grabbing his saddle bag, which had been sitting in the corner, as he went. 

Vin nodded to his friends before following the gambler's example.

The two men looked through several rooms until they found a rather small room for a mansion with a fireplace and a relatively clean floor.  There was even a pile of clean straw in the corner. 

"Well, the British are good for something," Ezra commented as they spotted the straw, causing the tracker to chuckle. 

"Everybody's got some purpose Ez."

"True, now if only they had managed to leave us some fire wood," he replied, wishing he had remembered to bring some with him.  He really did not feel like going back downstairs and out into the yard to look for wood.  Not only was he tired, but it was becoming cold.

"Maybe there's something round here we could use."

"I remember seeing some furniture in the next room."

"Well, let's get to it." 

Ezra led him to the room across the hall, which had apparently once been a nursery.  The two men split up, Ezra to sort through a pile of discarded furniture and Vin to explore the closet. 

Ezra had been searching through the broken pieces of a crib for a few moments before he heard a low whistle come from the other side of the room.

"Hey Ez," Vin softly called.  "Come and see this." 

Wondering what could have attracted the tracker's attention stood up and walked across the room.  "What is it Mr. . ."

Ezra voice faded away when he saw what had caught Vin's attention. From the bowels of the closet Vin had dragged a beautifully made rocking horse with a black mane, leather reins and saddled and a lovely dappled coat.  Ezra simply stared at the horse as if he seen a ghost.


South Carolina 1756

Ezra sat happily in his Aunt's lap.  It was Christmas Eve, his stomach was full of Christmas cakes and he was sitting in Aunt Katherine's lap amid yards of  red satin- life was perfect.

Of all the members in his family, including his own mother, Aunt Katherine, who everyone called Kitty, was the one Ezra most enjoyed spending Christmas with.  Actually, if he could he would spend every day of the year with Aunt Kitty.  Of all his relatives she was the one who paid attention to him, who actually seemed to give a damn about him.

He had been thrilled when his mother told him he would be spending Christmas with his aunt, though he had not shown it, afraid she would change her mind.  But it would not have mattered.  Maude Standish was wrapped up in several cons she planned to execute over the holiday season while she stayed in Boston. 

So Ezra had been dumped at Aunt Kitty's house.  But he did not mind at all.  When they had arrived, Ezra had jumped out of the carriage and ran to Aunt Kitty, who enveloped her little nephew in a great embrace. Out of all her nieces and nephews, Ezra was Kitty Standish's favorite.  He reminded her of not only her dear brother, but herself. Kitty, a woman of five and twenty years, was unmarried and ran her
own plantation.  Despite being a woman, she could best almost any man in Charleston at Latin, math, business or literature.  She could easily fit into the social role of cheery hostess, but at the same time was not a woman to be tampered with.  She was fiery independent girl, who recognized the same spirit in her nephew, as well as his love of literature, people and nature.

Although Kitty did not have a family of her own, her house was never dull or boring.  There were always people visiting, whether they be friends from the neighboring plantations or from Charleston, or businessmen or would be suitors.  Even though his Aunt was always busy with something or another, she never ignored Ezra, making sure her business meetings were never too long and that he was always included on social calls.

And it was no different on Christmas Eve.  Kitty was holding a party, not a grand social ball, but a simple gathering of friends which was no less lively.  All of them knew Ezra and welcomed the presence of the polite cheery little six year old.  Ezra had joined in on the games and the songs and had been entertained by Kitty's best friend William Geoffrey, a Charleston writer.  Now he sat snugly in his aunt's lap, one of her arms wrapped protectively around him as she talked.

At a break in the conversation, Geoffrey, who sat beside her, leaned over and tapped her on the arm.  "I think someone is tired," he said simply, nodding towards Ezra, who could barely keep his eyes open.

Kitty smiled at her nephew.  "So it seems.  It is quite past his bedtime.  I will be right back."  She stood up, easily shifting Ezra to her shoulder.  He was small for his age and was no burden at all for the bawdy Kitty.  She politely excused herself, carrying Ezra out of the parlor room.  Her servants moved out of the way, knew Kitty always put her nephew to bed herself.  Ezra sleepily clutched to his aunt, his head resting on her shoulder.

Kitty carried him up to the room she kept for him.  She carefully laid him on his bed, untangling his hands from her dress.

"I'm not sleepy," he murmured stubbornly. 

"Of course not Darlin'," she said, pulling the covers over him.  "But you best sleep so that Saint Nicholas may pay a visit." 

Ezra smiled as her words brought to mind the legends Geoffrey had told him.  Geoffrey was part German, and had kept Ezra completely engrossed with his tales of Saint Nicholas, a kindly man who visited the home of good children, leaving small gifts.

"Merry Christmas," Kitty said, kissing him on the forward.

"Merry Christmas, Aunt Kitty," he muttered. 

The woman smiled and closed the door quietly behind her, leaving her nephew with dreams of kind old man riding a reindeer.



"Ezra!  Why aren't you up yet?" came a cheery call from the hallway. 

The boy rubbed his eyes, yawning as the world focused.  The door opened, revealing his aunt in her nightdress and robe, her auburn hair draped over her shoulder in a fat braid.  "Merry Christmas, Ezra," she said sitting beside him on the bed, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

"Merry Christmas, Aunt Kitty," Ezra said, the excitement of childhood waking him up completely, and jumping into her arms.  His mother would scold him for such a blatant show of affection, but he knew Aunt Kitty thoroughly approved.

Kitty gave her nephew an affectionate squeeze, before pulling away gently.  "Have you been downstairs yet, Darlin'?"

Ezra shook his head.  "No, Aunt Kitty.  Why?" 

"Because I wanted to make sure I saw your face when you saw what Saint Nicholas left you," she said with a mischievous smile.

Ezra's eyes grew huge, his mouth falling open in disbelief.  "Saint Nickowis left me somethin'?"

The complete surprise and disbelief written clearly on his face nearly broke her heart.  Did Ezra truly believe he was not worth a gift at Christmas?  Damn my sister-in-law, Kitty thought.

Yet she plastered on a smile.  "Yes, he did.  What do you say we go see what it is?" 

A huge smile lit up Ezra's face as he jumped off her lap and tugged Kitty's wrist, dragging her out of the room, down the stairs and into the parlor room.

Ezra stopped dead in his tracks as he saw what was sitting under the Christmas tree.

It was a beautifully made rocking horse with a green and red ribbon tied around its neck.  The horse had a coat of dappled gray, a black mane and finely leather made tack.  It stood on black rockers, had a smoky nose and lovely large brown glass eyes. 

Ezra stared at the beautiful toy for several moments before looking back at his aunt.

"For me?" 

She nodded, a cheery smile on her face.  A huge smile appeared on Ezra's face as he jumped at his aunt, who kneeled just in time to catch the six year old ball of joy. 

"Thank you, Aunt Kitty!" he exclaimed into her hair.

"You're quite welcome Darlin'," she said, laughing.  She pulled away from him, smiling.  "Now go enjoy it!" 

Giggling, Ezra ran over to his new horse and at first struggled to get on.  The horse was quite large and took the small boy several good tries before he got managed to seat himself.  But once he got on the horse, nothing else mattered as he started to rock.



"Merry Christmas, Kitty," Geoffrey greeted cheerily, presenting his friend and hostess with a Christmas wreath.

"Merry Christmas, William," she said, embracing him.  "How lovely," she added, taking the wreath.  "Thank you."

"Think nothing of it," he said, waving her thanks away.  He looked around the entry way for a moment before saying quietly, "Has young Ezra discovered Saint Nicholas's gift yet?"

"Oh, yes," she said, giggling.

"Well," he prompted.

"Come see for yourself."  She led him to the parlor, and Geoffrey's face broke into a grin when he caught sight of the little boy playing happily on his present.

"I see that he likes it."

Kitty laughed.  "That is an understatement.  He has been it all morning."

"Merry Christmas, Mr. Geoffrey!" Ezra called, waving from his horse.

"Marry Christmas, Master Ezra," he returned, bowing gallantly.

Ezra patted his toy's neck.  "Saint Nickowas gave it to me for Christmas."

"Did I not tell you, Saint Nicholas rewards good children on Christmas?" 

At this Ezra's smile grew wider. 

"What have you named him?"

At this Ezra frowned.  "Name him?"

"Why yes of course.  Every fine steed must have a name.  Isn't that right Kitty?"

The woman nodded, a knowing smile on her face.  "Quite right William. Do you have any ideas Ezra?"

Ezra's brow furrowed in thought as he looked down at his new toy. After a moment he smiled and looked up at his two friends.

"How about Chaucer?"

Kitty felt tears in her eyes at hearing Ezra name his rocking horse after her fine white stallion.  Ezra loved her horse Chaucer, would beg to sit in front of her on rides.  He absolutely adored the animal.

"I think that is a lovely name," Kitty said, wiping away her tears and smiling.

Ezra frowned.  "Is it OK for both of us to have horses named Chaucer, Aunt Kitty?"

Kitty laughed at such an innocent statement.  "If you want we can call him Little Chaucer."

Ezra looked down at his horse a moment before smiling and patting its neck.  "You hear that boy?  You're name is Little Chaucer.  My Little Chaucer."



"Ezra?  Ezra?"

Standish shook his head as his aunt's parlor drifted away and was replaced by the abandoned nursery.

"Yes?"

"You OK, pard?" Vin asked, concern in his voice.

"Of course," Ezra replied simply as he looked down at the rocking horse, hoping to advert his eyes form the perceptive tracker.  "Why do you ask?"

"Just looked a bit lost, is all."

Ezra sighed.  "This toy simply reminds me of one I had as a child."

Vin just stared at Ezra, surprised the man had revealed even this small part of his path.  Whatever memories the old toy were  recalling were apparently sacred to Ezra and Vin would not trespass on such
memories.

"I think there's enough wood in that corner to last us the night."

Ezra  nodded, smiling slightly in gratitude.  Some times he thanked the lord for Vin's quiet habit of understanding.  "I think you are quite correct, Mr. Tanner."

"Well, then let's get to it."

The two men went over to gather wood, leaving the rocking horse alone
in the corner in one piece, at least for another night. 

THE END