Disclaimer: I don't own X-Files characters, I just play
with them, and hug them and squeeze them and call them George, oh wait,
wrong story, Anyway, I don't own them but I like to play with them for
free of course.
This is an AU, set in the old west after the War between the States. Walter is not in law enforcement though he does go with posses at times. Fox is a half Indian boy of 9. This story is my own creation, though there are other stories such as Darby and Wolf, Frontiers and Independence that are along the same lines. This is not a take off on any of them. I have however read and enjoyed the aforementioned stories and only hope my creation is half as well received as they were. Warning: This story will deal with many issues, including the corporal punishment of a child. If you don't like this then go on by. The Indian words in this are Lakota Sioux, I have tried to put the translation right beside the words. I will include a glossary at some point in time. Thank you to Bonnie May and Joey for betaing. And claire
becuase she is so sweet.
Untamed Savage
Fox made a great show of carefully rubbing his sore bottom, as he sniffled in the corner. Dang this man had a lot of rules. Rules on everything he did or ever wanted to do. Fox was even sure that if he could he would put rules on the outhouse. Fox blushed at that thought. Actually the gruff man had put rules about that too, well rules of going in there, not by a tree. But still. Fox was not a child, he could go where he wanted to and IF he wanted to. But could that man accept that. NO. He made a rule to go there before bed; Like that was a rule that needed to be made. Fox wasn't a child, he knew to go before bed. Rules on when to get up and when to go to bed. Rules on what to wear and how to talk. Rules on where to go, or where not to go. How to work and then there were the rules about eating. Fox never saw so many rules as there were for eating, when he wanted to eat. You had to sit down at the table and sit up straight. No slurping, that was a big one and don't reach, you ask. Use the fork. Don't shovel food with the knife. Don't put a knife in your mouth at all. Cut your food into small bites. Take small bites. Don't talk with a full mouth. Don't talk with any food in your mouth. Use the napkin, not your sleeve. Eat all your vegetables. Don't kick at the table. Don't squirm. Don't fidget. Clean your plate or no dessert. No coffee; little boys drink milk. Don't scratch at the table. Say please and thank you. No burping or other body noises. Chew with your mouth closed. Ask to be excused. No elbows on the table. Sit on your bottom, not on your knees. Wait for grace. Hand the plate of biscuits, don't just toss one. Only eat off your plate. Potatoes are not a finger food. Easy on the syrup. Don't put sugar on everything. Take small amounts first, there is always more. Don't make rude remarks about the food. Too many rules. Fox leaned against the wall with a sigh, and when you broke a rule you were scolded or corrected and sometimes, lots of times, swatted or worse spanked. It had been this way for the last two weeks. Fox was a free spirit, a man or at least he would be when he completed his quest; he had to find his sister, he just had too. He didn't need to be told everything, like a child. What he needed was a horse to complete his quest. The man had many horses and Fox had reasoned that he wouldn't miss one. He had slipped out before dawn and climbed onto the split rail corral. The small paint pony had caught his eye. He had slipped up quietly on the horse and took a carrot from his pocket. The horse took it and crunched into it with his large teeth. Fox slid his hand into the inky black mane, his fingers tightened on the locks, his small lean body tensed to swing up on the back of the paint. At that moment, a large hand clapped down on his shoulder. Fox turned and looked straight into the thundercloud, that was the face of his guardian. The normally gentle brown eyes glinted hard as the massive hand tightened and turned him around. ****** Walter had woken the moment the latch dropped on the door. It only took a moment to realize the boy was gone, and to go after him. Walter had quickly marched the nearly nude boy back in the house, where it was warm. The boy, as usual, only wore what he absolutely had to, a pair of crudely shortened pants held up with a piece of rope. Walter made short work of the rope belt and let the pants drop to the floor. Walter sat down in the brown leather chair before the fire, (damn fool youngin no food, improper clothing, didn't this boy have a brain?) he pulled the boy down over his hard thighs and anchored him firmly. Walter raised his hand and brought it down hard on the small bottom poised over his right thigh. Fox gasped as the hand struck his bare bottom, tears of embarrassment and pain sprang to his eyes as Walter's hand descended again and again on the squirming bottom. Fox yelled at the assault on his hapless bottom, but his yelling did no good. After a dozen sharp swats Walter stopped spanking and carried the boy to the corner. He set him on his feet and turned his nose towards the corner. "Stay right there and don't move!" Walter ordered, Fox immediately turned around, Walter turned him right back with another sharp swat to the red bottom. "I said stay there and don't move." Fox again turned and Walter again turned him back, with another hard swat "STAY!" Fox stomped his foot in indignation and got another swat for his trouble. Finally, Fox stood quietly. "I want you to think about what you were doing and why. We will discuss this after while. In the meantime, I want you to stand there quietly." Fox closed his eyes and rubbed his bottom. There were even more rules on how to stand in the corner. They had had this discussion before, too. Stand up straight, no slouching, hands at your side, feet flat on the floor, don't pick at the wall, don't look around, don't move from the corner, and no talking. Fox sniffed again but he didn't move out of the corner. He had tried moving or leaving the corner, even after the first couple times he had been placed there. This morning he tried again. The first time Walter was in the outhouse and Fox just made it to the door when he was caught. Six stinging swats propelled him back to the corner, and another stern admonition to stay. The second time he was actually only taking a look around when the hand burned his bottom again. Fox could smell breakfast cooking. Bacon sizzled in the skillet, he heard eggs crack and a fork whip them together. He suddenly realized how hungry he was. Was he going to have to starve before he was released from this prison of two walls? "Get dressed and set the table." Walter's deep voice resonated though the house. Fox turned around and pulled up his pants with another sniff. His bottom was sore when the cloth touched it but he wanted it covered. "Don't sniff, use a handkerchief." Fox sighed dramatically, another rule. But he found a kerchief and blew his nose loudly. He found his shirt and shoes and put them on before he headed to the table. He hated the shoes. An old pair they had gotten from a neighbor, not too far away, who had a little boy with feet about the same size as Fox's. The shoes pinched and imprisoned his feet. It was torture. Just as he was about to reach for the plates Walter's voice embraced him again "Wash your hands first." Fox sighed dramatically, one more rule, but went to the basin by the back door, hands and face washed, and dried, rule number 87, he set the small table. Two plates, one at the head of the table and the other to the right of that one. Two forks, two spoons, two knives, each one had it proper place. Forks on the left, knives on the right and the spoon beside the knife. Make sure you put the blade of the knife in toward the plate, not out. Don't just toss then on the table make it look nice. A tin cup for Walter and a glass for Fox. The boy sighed one more time. He couldn't understand why anyone needed all this just to eat some breakfast. He would have just put the bacon and eggs between two slabs of bread and a splash of hot coffee and it was done. But NOOOOO Mr. Rules had to have the table set proper, including a cloth at each place that he called a napkin, to wipe your mouth. Fox let out another sigh and got the milk, he filled his glass half full. "To the top" Walter admonished and Fox obeyed, Fox actually did like milk, but this drinking it all the time was getting old. Besides he had to milk that cussed cow every morning and every night and help churn butter, and do a thousand other things. Walter set a platter of eggs and bacon on the table, another of sliced bread he had toasted in the oven. "Get the butter please, Fox." Walter said, Fox got the crock of fresh butter, while Walter filled his cup with coffee. Fox came back with the butter and a jar of preserves, then they both sat down at the table. Fox winced for effect but didn't act up, "Fox, your hands." Walter reminded the boy as he reached across the table for the toast. Fox pulled back his hand and folded them, Walter didn't demand he pray just be quiet and respectful while he did. Walter intoned grace. "Dear Lord, thank you for a beautiful day. Please bless this food for the nourishment of our bodies and thank you again for bringing Fox to me. Amen" Fox reached for the bread almost before Walter got out the Amen. And got his hand smacked for his trouble. "Don't reach, ask" Walter reminded him. "May I please have the bread?" Fox asked as he repeated the phrase that he had been taught. Walter passed the plate. "Ashoge" Fox said quietly in Lakota Sioux. "Your welcome" Walter said in English. The boy often reverted to his native tongue when he was upset or not thinking. Walter watched the child eat, as he tucked away his own food. The boy was a puzzle, he needed and craved a father figure but he rejected one as well. Walter had sent word to the closest tribe to find out what he could about the boy. Word had not yet arrived. At first it had been easy to keep an eye on the half starved injured little boy. But as he gained strength and his foot healed it was not so easy to keep tabs on him. He wanted to get on with his quest to find his sister and he didn't want to stop and wait as he needed to do. Breakfast was finished in relative silence and the dishes were washed. Walter walked over to the big leather chair and called Fox to him. The boy sighed again and trudged over, Walter reached out and took the boy on his lap. Fox was surprised. He was not face down but he wasn't going to argue about his good fortune. He know he was still in for it for the horses but any reprieve was welcome. "I sent word to your tribe," Walter began without preamble his arms around the little boy as he watched his face carefully, as he predicted the boys face fell. "I know you said the chief doesn't want you to return. He believes you would do better in the white world. But I want to know if they know anything else about you and about your sister so we can search more efficiently. I asked him to send me your things. Fox, I want you to live here with me. I've grown very fond of you these last two weeks. I know we don't always see eye to eye but I want to take care of you and together we can find your sister." "You want me to stay? Even though I don't know anything about your rules? Even though I am very bad?" "Fox you're not bad, you do things that are not acceptable at times and you get punished for them. But YOU are never bad. And in answer to your question, yes I want you. I couldn't imagine being without you. But I can not keep worrying about you running off like you tried to do this morning. I know that you want to find your sister and we will look, but you have to be patient." He hugged the little boy to him tightly and was pleased when the skinny arms wrapped around his neck and hugged back. "Fox, you have to understand once and for all that stealing is never acceptable. Horse thieves in this country are hanged. I don't want that to happen to you." "I give you my word, I won't try to leave again." The boy said solemnly, "I really wasn't stealing the horse, I was borrowing it." Walter frowned, he had heard this particular argument from the lad before and was going to put a stop it. "Fox, we talked about this before, if you don't ask, it's not borrowing. It's stealing. And you know the penalty for stealing in this house." Fox knew, they had gone over this more than once, stealing always got a spanking. Another one of the 'rules' that he had, ask before taking something. Fox sighed, he hated this part, being scolded like a child. He squirmed as he tried to get out of Walter's lap, the large man simply turned the little boy over his knee and swatted the seat of his pants once. Hard. Fox stopped squirming. A moment later he was bare bottomed over that same knee and yelling for all he was worth as the large callused hand spanked his little cheeks from white to pink to red. He knew he was not being beaten but still it hurt like the devil and made him feel very ashamed of what he had done. But also cleansed; he was punished and it was over. He didn't have to listen to days of silence like with his father. Walter didn't scold much either, just said what he had done wrong then spanked him, short and simple. Fox liked it that way. The spanking over, Walter placed the boy back in the corner for a few minutes to think about things, then he pulled him back out for a hug. "Let's go get the chores done boy." Walter said softly, and together they headed for the barn. to be continued in part four
Feed back is no only welcome but needed, email me at ciejye@acd.net |