THE POPPIES OF HOUSE VAUSE

AN: So, about Season Two. I enjoyed the episodes (especially the finale), but really missed Alex and the Vauseman interaction. Looking through the list of OITNB stories I also realized most are of the 'generally canon' variety regarding Alex and Piper's relationship, much like my first, The Long Game. I love those stories! But sometimes taking the characters with their unique traits and putting them in a really different world can be fun to write, and I hope, to read.

This story will be completely AU, set in a distant fictional time and place, with mature themes and at times some dark (non-con) content. I won't be upset if that puts you off from reading. It's just that to me, the struggles of life make the love and the victory that much sweeter! I hope you enjoy.

As always, I own nothing and write just for fun. Please feel free to let me know what you think!

Chapter One-I Choose You

The walls were badly in need of repair. Alexandra, only child of the late Lady Diane and sole remaining heir of House Vause, could see the crumbling balustrades lining the guard walk at the top of the estate enclosure from the balcony of her rooms. The many who lived and worked under the looming gray bricks were under no great threat; the fortifications had been built a century ago by her great-great grandfather and were made to withstand assault by an army. However, as her monetary advisor Tasha Jefferson was constantly reminding her, these things need to be taken care of and they take money to do 'em.

That line of thinking brought Alex's gaze downward to the long, low buildings that stretched the length of the compound. The fall day was chilly and most of the workers were inside processing the raw product of the opium poppies through various intermediate products into one of the primary income sources of her family, heroin. The Vause lineage has established themselves as one of the 'Great Houses' by producing and controlling the manufacture and distribution of liquor and drugs, with a healthy tax paid to the Kingdom of Litchfield. Her estate's distillery produced the finest spirits in the land and their heroin and marijuana was pure and unadulterated, sold primarily to the smoking dens attached to nearly every pub in the city, all of which she owned and regulated.

The business was conducted above board, completely legal, and provided controlled outlets for those who sought mind altering recreation, but House Vause was still looked down on by several of the larger, wealthier families who found their source of income 'distasteful', usually while partaking liberally. The most influential belonged to the banking family, House Figueroa. They controlled the politics of the Kingdom from behind the scenes, along with several of the merchant houses. Every major area of commerce funneled through the families, although the 'families' themselves changed from time to time as generations passed and successors became lazy or soft and others more ruthless stepped forward to take their place.

House Vause was one of the oldest. Through the years each Lord or Lady heading the household had found a worthy replacement within the genetic pool, strong enough to keep their place as a 'Great House' through shrewd business dealings and harsh violence when necessary. They had a formidable guard, now headed by a former slave named 'Poussey.' She was fierce with all manner of swords and knives and Alex was fortunate to have won the loyalty of the warrior.

Remembering the circumstances of Poussey's hiring still brought a smile to Alex's face. She had been negotiating a lease at the outskirts of the city in a new district. The population of the Kingdom was growing and the area would house workers in many of the nearby mercantile plants. The workers were common folk that comprised the bulk of her customers; those looking for casual nights of drinking with an occasional visit to the smoking den to take the edge off their tedious lives.

The deal had required more effort than Alex had expected. The best space in the new square was currently occupied by a storefront 'education and training center' owned by her rival, Lawrence Bloom. The Blooms were another old family and specialized in prostitution and human trafficking. They owned and operated the slave markets and forced many women to 'choose' to work in the whorehouses in order to avoid abject slavery. The 'centers' were places where impoverished women were brought and kept for a few days in order to educate them about their options. Captured slaves were also taken to these places for reprocessing. Most of the time it was hard to tell the difference between the two groups and there were frequent allegations that Lawrence was simply forcing slave collars on anyone he wanted to keep or sell.

Bloom could easily find another location. But the landlord had told him it was Alex who wanted to rent the space he was occupying and Larry was offering to pay more just to annoy her. She had insisted the landlord take her through the property before getting into a bidding war. Nervously he had agreed and they had toured through without incident until they came to the stairs leading to the basement. When Alex had grabbed the handle she found it locked and the landlord had tried to shoo her away saying he didn't have a key. Alex might have gone along if she hadn't heard the pained groan when she shook the door.

A swift kick wrenched the door open and she had slipped down the stairs over the outcry of the landlord worried about the broken lock. The basement was clearly used for punishment. Benches held devices of restraint as well as canes and whips. Along the walls were irons and chains that held a single occupant, Poussey. She looked terrible, beaten and bloody, but still tried to stand and glare at Alex defiantly.

"Are you a slave?" Alex couldn't do much if she was, despite the obvious mistreatment. Kingdom law gave no rights to slaves. Every great house kept them, even hers. Alex liked to think she treated her slaves better, and she gave them the opportunity to buy their freedom, but her business depended on a steady supply of cheap labor and free men and women were simply too expensive for much of the menial work required.

"I escaped from the Germanic territories. I came here seeking work and was taken against my will."

Alex noted Poussey had an usual accent, not of the Kingdom, but not Germanic either. Her skin tone was dark, but not as dark as most of those from the southern continent.

"You were a slave to the barbarians?" Alex noted the landlord was now fretting about the basement, making noises of discontent.

"I was defending my home and was captured. They collared me for several years until I could get away." Poussey yanked at one of the large iron cuffs than held her to the wall. "I won't be a slave again; you will have to kill me."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "If what you say is true, you shouldn't be here. Kingdom law grants freedom to any slave that escapes the Barbarians. Who chained you here?"

The landlord was back and waving his hands aimlessly, his voice high pitched. "Lady Vause, we really shouldn't get involved in this matter."

"I asked this woman a question, not you." Alex waved him to the side with a gesture.

Poussey seemed to consider her answer for a moment. "You are not one of these people? I came here to ask about work as a guard and they laughed and called me a silly woman. There were several men here and they overpowered me, said I must be a runaway slave."

Now Alex was surprised. She had several women in her House guard, but females with military training were generally uncommon. "You have skills as a soldier?"

Poussey stood proud, her shoulders back. "Give me a blade and I can kill any man."

Alex turned to the sniveling landlord. "This woman is being improperly imprisoned. I intend to free her."

The landlord began to sweat even before he spoke. "You can't, Lord Bloom will be angry; oh this is not good, bad for business. . ."

Alex had run out of patience. "I can take care of this now, between us, or I can send my driver outside to fetch the authorities who will no doubt impose a fine on your company for allowing illegal activities at this location. Which do you prefer?"

She didn't actually wait for a response. Alex strode over to the benches and retrieved a mallet of the kind used to drive the restraining spikes into the walls. Three swings broke the chain holding Poussey.

The timing turned out to be fortuitous. Two men armed with swords pounded down the stairs demanding to know what was going on in the name of House Bloom. Poussey wasn't apparently in any mood to explain. Despite the heavy iron still around her wrists she had the first man disarmed and used his sword to pin the second against the wall in seconds.

Alex smiled. "We can take the cuffs off back at my Estate. That is if you want a job in my guard."

After convincing Poussey that killing Bloom's minions was a bad idea they left the two men chained in the basement. The landlord also wisely decided that Alex's offer on the property was very generous and that it was in his best interest to serve Lord Bloom with an immediate eviction notice.

Alex sighed. That had been a good day. Unfortunately there had been few like it in the intervening three years. Her business was steady, but with expenses, bribes and taxes her profit margin was thin and Larry Bloom continued to harass her and encroach on her territory at every opportunity. She knew he was developing cheap dangerous drugs on the black market. He also was setting up untaxed bars in the poor areas of town that sold moonshine made on the premises that often sickened people. She was going to have to take action soon. She had to protect her family profits and felt a responsibility to protect the citizens from his products.

Alex decided to head down to the production barns. She hadn't seen this season's poppy crop since it had been brought in from the fields and she was due an update from her production manager, Nicky, who also happened to be her oldest friend and occasional fuck buddy. It was no great secret that the heir of House Vause preferred the company of a woman in her bed and several of her distant relatives were constantly trying to make an issue of her preference insisting that she give up control to someone who would get married and have children to continue the family line. Alex wasn't willing to do so just yet. She cared for her people and couldn't stand the thought of some third cousin running everything she had worked for into the ground.

She also wasn't ready to give up on the idea of a family. The arrangement would have to be non-traditional, but she had seen other situations tolerated if the flow of tax dollars to the coffers of the Kingdom was protected. The bankers were always willing to look the other way to provide stability and infighting families often impacted profits. Alex knew she was getting to the age that decisions regarding children were needed, but she felt something was missing. Despite her sometimes impulsive nature she was waiting patiently, if only she knew what for.

Leaving the balcony and deep thoughts behind, Alex re-entered her rooms and found one of the slave maids setting out her clothes for the day. A dark blue dress covered with embroidered beads lay on the bed and low heeled boots sat on the floor.

"I'd prefer trousers; I'm planning to work in the opium barns today." Alex stated perfunctorily to the young woman, Leanne. She wasn't entirely comfortable with her current maids. There were three of them, somehow related to each other and from a distant rural area that seemed to favor strange accents and bad teeth. But she had taken them in despite their complete lack of skills to serve as house slaves when they begged to avoid working in Bloom's whorehouses.

"Milady. Ms. Nichols said to remind you she needs more workers to help in the barns and you promised to go to the slave market with her today." Leanne spoke with the proper respect but the undertone of dislike when saying Nicky's name was clear. Nicky and the maids didn't get along.

Alex had put the trip to find new slaves out of her mind. She understood their necessity but was uncomfortable with the concept in general. Her system of allowing slaves to buy their freedom over time had garnered her displeasure from many of the Lords of other houses, but it was the only way she would allow the practice at her estate. She didn't make it easy either; the slaves had to work hard for a minimum of eight years in order to gain freedom. Most chose to stay as workers for pay thereafter. She was a fair employer and paid an honest wage, plus most of the former slaves felt deep loyalty to her, a commodity that couldn't be bought. The houses were full of traitors and spies and the houses with cruel masters suffered the repercussions of slave gossip.

"Fine. The dress it is. Thank you Leanne." She couldn't negotiate as the Lady of the House in comfortable clothing; she needed to show off her wealth and prestige to the odious Bloom House slave traders.

Nicky was waiting for her at the main door to the barns. "It's about time. Thought I was going to have to ascend to the lofty heights of your rooms and drag your ass down here. We need to head out to the market and spend some of your wealth buying some help if you want finished product this year."

"We can do a quick walk-through on our way out. I want to see that you actually need help and aren't just too lazy to do the work yourself."

"Bitch." Nicky bowed at Alex's stern look. "Sorry. Lady Bitch."

Alex wrapped an arm around Nicky's shoulders and squeezed, walking them into the barn. "That's better."

By the time they had arrived at the market Alex had agreed with Nicky's assessment that they needed three additional slaves to handle the year's generous poppy crop. The new workers would be unskilled but could perform all manner of menial tasks freeing up more experienced workers for the more detailed work.

The first selection had been easy. A large, simple minded man named O'Neill. He was being sold by a farmer who could no longer afford him. O'Neill was familiar with crops and could haul heavy loads. Looking him over Alex thought he would probably sneak into the kitchen for snacks at every opportunity, but he was quick to smile and appeared harmless.

The second was Nicky's pick. A sprig of a girl with a scar on her neck named Murphy. She had worked in the kitchen of one of the estates and been burned by a flash fire from oil left on a stove. She had developed a terror of the kitchen and was being sold off by the Lady of the House. Nicky had chatted with the girl for a minute and found her to be quick minded and nimble of hand; both attributes Nicky could put to good use in the production barns.

The third slave remained elusive. Alex and Nicky moved methodically through the market, the traders at their heels barking out the superior attributes of this man or woman, but none met their criteria. Nicky had stated she didn't care about gender, but she needed someone who could work quickly and with minimal direction. Most of the slaves were sadly too old or sick to be considered. Others were clearly intended to be bed slaves and despite Nicky's teasing that she should purchase a nubile young girl that would keep her warm and might improve her rotten disposition, Alex had no interest in purchasing pleasure in any form.

They had arrived at the last row in the market, both women thinking they would have to come back another day. Alex noticed the traders weren't even pestering them anymore as they passed. Unlike the rest of the market where the slaves were displayed in open spaces under guard, this area held cages made with iron bars.

Alex could feel her blood begin to boil. Holding humans in cages, even slaves, was abhorrent. Worse still she realized all of the occupants were women, young, most no more than girls. Many were cowering at the back of the cages. As they walked by, one of the traders wearing the House Bloom insignia stepped up a cage holding a crying girl and lashed out at her with a whip as he barked to be quiet.

Nicky had to restrain Alex when the girl yelped in pain. "It won't do any good my Lady."

The fact that Nicky had used her title startled Alex into focus. "What is this area, these cages?"

"I should have avoided this part of the market." Nicky was gripping her arm tightly and trying to move her forward more quickly. "These girls are for the Bloom private bordello."

Alex cursed under her breath, but let Nicky lead her away. She had heard the horror stories of what happened to the girls inside the walls of the Bloom estate. They were all slaves, with no hope of a better life. They were used and abused until they died of disease, drugs or grew too 'old' and were shipped off to cheap whorehouses in the worst parts of the city.

A cart was at the end of the row, waiting to be loaded with the girls from the cages. That process was apparently being held up by an argument between the driver and one of the slave traders over a girl huddled at their feet. She was a slave, wearing a steel Bloom collar, but Alex couldn't see much more than her matted blonde hair and dirty, torn dress.

"I have instructions to take this one back to the estate." The driver had one hand on the girl's arm and was attempting to pull her to her feet without success.

"She's in no state to go anywhere you idiot! Can't you see she's got a sickness? Lord Bloom won't want her dying in the bordello! Best if we just leave her here in one of the cages. What if she spreads it to the other girls? You gonna pay for that?" The slave trader kicked at the girl's side, but with little power behind the blow. Still it was enough to cause her to crumple to the ground and groan.

The scene played out to Alex in slow motion. Deep emotions were rising from a place she didn't recognize inside her. This girl, bowed and beaten, was a part of her future. It was nonsense really, she didn't know anything about the girl other than she was sick and probably dying. Despite the logic, Alex knew exactly what she needed to do. She made her choice.

"Gentleman." She choked the honorific then smoothed her voice. "Perhaps I have a solution to your dilemma."

The two men turned towards her, surprised at the interference. The driver removed his cap and bowed. "Lady Vause."

The slave trader nodded respectfully. She was well known throughout the city. "How may we be of service Lady?"

Alex knew not to tip her hand as she addressed the trader. "You plan to leave this girl to die." She made the remark a statement, not a question.

The trader narrowed his eyes but knew he had been heard. "Yes. She has one of the sicknesses, of the woman type. She probably won't survive the night anyway."

"Well then you will both be in trouble and at a financial loss. I will take her for a fifth of silver to each of you. You can tell your employer she was sick and you left her to die." The offer was minimal, but better than nothing, and the trader wouldn't have a potential corpse to deal with in the morning.

The two men eyed each other and came to a silent agreement. The driver stepped away and the slave trader produced a leash, clipping it to the girl's collar before handing it to Alex.

Nicky gave Alex a questioning glance before swiftly producing the coinage and calling over O'Neill, the male slave they had purchased earlier. "Can you carry her?"

The large man lifted the girl easily into his arms; she was skin and bones beneath the tattered dress.

Once the group, now five, had returned to the Vause carriage, Alex had O'Neill place the girl on one of the seats inside. Alex leaned over to get a good look at her and saw she was actually a young woman, probably only slightly younger than Alex herself. She must have been treated well when she was a girl, not looking accustomed to hard work, but now showed signs of recent harsh abuse.

Alex touched her hand to the young woman's forehead as the carriage lurched forward. She had a raging fever and her eyes were blurred and unfocused. Nicky appeared with a cup of water and Alex helped the young woman sit up enough to drink. That seemed to bring a moment of clarity to her vision. The young woman glanced around, confusion written on her features. When her eyes reached Alex she froze.

Alex smiled. It appeared she was not the only one affected by their unusual meeting. "What is your name?"

The effort to focus had drained the blonde. She began to slip into unconsciousness but was able to answer faintly, "Piper."