Work Text:
** Nightmares **
September 1757, roughly a month after Fort William Henry surrendered
----
Cora Munro stood just outside of the middle of the fort, behind a line of brightly dressed soldiers. Her father's soldiers. Her father, the man of infliction and pain. Her father, whom she once adored, was now one who was about to harm her more than any man had in her entire three-and-twenty years.
Many dully dressed men and women showed up to watch the execution. Their expressions were full of grief. The people looked more blurry to Cora. As the fleeting moments passed, the door to the stockade swung open, protesting on its hinges as it did. Cora's heart surged painfully in her chest.
Nathaniel Poe, the man of her rescue, the man who she loved with more than her whole being was dragged out in chains. Chains her father placed him in. The ugly hangman's noose swayed slightly in the wind, Nathaniel and Cora separated between. Cora couldn't breathe, her whole being ached. Tears filled her eyes, as Nathaniel's proud face had found her. His head held up with every ounce of bravery he had left. His eyes begged her to be brave too.
The door to Munro's office thundered open. Her father, Captain Beams, and Major Heyward marched out, the guards saluting behind them as the heavy door was shut. In her father's hands was the paper which was written upon it was Nathaniel's reasons for arrest and soon, oh too soon, his death. Cora's fist clenched together. Tears were pouring out of her eyes, and she no longer needed to hide them. Nathaniel held her glance as Munro read aloud Nathaniel's penalties. His beautiful hair and his green eyes that had once danced when he gazed upon her, now were filled with dread, even though his outer body was held high with pride.
Nathaniel wasn't the only one looking at Cora. Duncan, who Cora once believed to have been a good man, was looking at her. There was slight pity on his face upon looking at her, but moreover a smirk. He was finally "beating him [Nathaniel] from the fort" as he had said he would. Duncan, the "honorable" Major, was hardly a man indeed. A liar and an angry, immature boy.
"...and is hereby sentenced to be hung by the neck until dead. Have you any last words, Mr. Poe?" Her father had been saying.
Nathaniel looked Colonel Munro square into the short man's eyes. "I wouldn't give you the pleasure of hearin' 'em." Nathaniel retorted, facing back to Cora.
Some men in the crowd chuckled at Nathaniel's remark.
Munro huffed in annoyance, "May God have mercy on your soul."
The feverish sounds of drums started playing and the hated noose was placed around Nathaniel's neck.
Cora fought against the backs of the red soldiers. However, as hard as she tried she couldn't move, as if her very shoes were glued to the ground.
"NATHANIEL!" She screamed.
----
Cora sat up startled, her heart racing. Her back soaked in a cold sweat. She glanced around her in sudden fear. The sleepy overnight camp was peaceful enough.
The stars glittering in the night sky, above the little rendezvous of pine trees. The pine trees' boughs danced and sang in the slight breeze.
Alice, little Alice, was sleeping across from her by the brightly burning fire.
Cora took in a deep, cleansing breath. "It was a dream, Cora. All but a dream."
The firelight stung Cora's eyes fiercely, (at least, that's what she chose to blame for the abundance of tears swimming in her eyes) and her hands gripped her blanket like it was the final thing tying her to the earth. Cora felt a tremble rush up her back and grasped at her cloak which was draped over her shoulders.
She forced herself to lie back down onto her little makeshift bed, but sleep would not return to her. Her mind troubled her with the nightmare she had just seen.
*What if, what if, what if* was all her tired mind could repeat. What if Nathaniel HAD been hung? What would she have done? What if the French hadn't asked for the terms of surrender? Then would it matter if Nathaniel was hung? Many, likely including herself would've died in the fort if they hadn't surrendered. What if Magua and his bloodthirsty friends hadn't attacked after the surrender? What would happen?
Cora buried her head into her blanket, wishing she could drown out these thoughts. "What if" didn't matter. What happened... happened. That was that.
Being the eldest, the strongest, and a member of the fierce Clan Munro, Cora didn't like to cry and she rarely did. However in her latest experiences, tears seemed to be the only thing left for Cora to do.
Cora hated being helpless, especially in front of Alice and her father. In Portman Square, Cora rarely cried. She didn't really have many reasons to. However, if she did cry, it was late at night when nobody heard her or at least didn't care. She had to maintain her strong, tough character.
It was Nathaniel that Cora became most vulnerable with. She didn't know why. She wanted to show Nathaniel that she was strong and that she was fiercely independent. The thing was, that Nathaniel seemed to already know that and he treated her like so. He also treated her like a human with actual feelings. So, maybe that's why she was so comfortable with him.
The thought of Nathaniel jarred Cora once again. She couldn't sleep, so she decided to seek him out. Since the promontory, where Uncas nearly lost his life to Magua's knife, the three Mahicans had been headed to Can-tuck-ee where they would wait out the war. They were taking Cora and Alice with them. Scouting and protection was deeply embedded into their veins and so - like almost every night, the three men were scouting out the area for any danger that may affect themselves or the women in their presence.
Cora stood up, her blanket tight around her shoulders and she looked to the East, which was where Nathaniel tended to scout. She could vaguely see a distant body; leaned against an upright tree. She walked cautiously towards him. She made sure that she made a few sounds so he knew she was approaching from behind.
Nathaniel slowly turned his head to look into Cora's brown - nearly black eyes.
"You're awake really early." He half joked.
Cora settled down onto Nathaniel's lap. His dusty, once white shirt gently kissing Cora's cheek in the soft wind. It was then Nathaniel realized that Cora was shaking. Not just a tremble. She was shaking violently. Nathaniel's heart leapt.
"Are you cold?" Nathaniel demanded, doing his best to look at Cora over his shoulder. "On a night like this?"
Cora shook her head, discovering that her voice had left and all that was left was a thin sound that threatened to sob. Nathaniel instantly became concerned and depressed, his jaw tightening with worry.
"Cora? Tell me about it. What's wrong." Nathaniel said gently.
Cora remembered another time that Nathaniel had spoken to her in the same relaxing voice. It was when he was locked up in the stockade awaiting "justice". If that's what you could call it.
---
"Justice? If that's justice, then the sooner French guns blow the English out of America the better it will be for the people here." Cora had replied
"Ye dinnae know whatcher sayin' lass -" Her father had begun
"Yes I do! I know EXACTLY what I'm saying! And if it is sedition then I'm guilty of sedition too!"
---
The thoughts - rather memories of the fight with her father and Duncan over Nathaniel constricted Cora's heart all the more. The tears (which was the blasted fire's fault) started spilling all over Nathaniel's quickly absorbing shirt. Nathaniel pressed her closely against him, letting her shuddering body take refuge into his strong-ish one. He didn't feel very strong and warrior-like at the moment.
"Cora?" He said nudging her slightly "Please?"
Cora moved against Nathaniel and sat up, his strong hands supporting her back.
"What is it?" He asked, gingerly rubbing her shoulder. Cora's blood-shot eyes gazed into his emerald green ones.
"I dreamt you were hanged." She whimpered feeling a lot like a child telling dear Cousin Eugenie her scary dreams.
Nathaniel's eyes widened and then grew soft.
"Some would argue that would be nice." Nathaniel half-joked. "It's alright. I'm not going anywhere."
Cora needed more proof than that. She wanted to KNOW he was alive. Nathaniel understood instantly, gently caressing her face with his large hand. The warmth of his hand comforted Cora, and she realized that someone dead would not feel so warm beneath her fingers.
Cora held Nathaniel's left wrist, where in her mind's eye she could see the "inking", as Nathaniel referred to it, tattooed on him. Cora sat up taller to reach his mouth and sought his lips. She needed that certainty. Nathaniel hesitated for a moment - recognizing this was how Cora was proving to herself that he was there. He returned the kiss gently, his hand (that was not being held hostage by Cora) found its way up to her hair and he stroked her there.
"I love you Nathaniel." Cora gasped, "I love you. Don't you see? I can't even imagine a life without you without terrifying myself."
Even though Cora was sniffling and sobbing as she spoke, Nathaniel understood the gist of what she was saying. His green eyes sparkled in the moonlight; which shone its soft, sometimes eerie, rays down upon the sleeping earth.
Nathaniel's well calloused, well-used hand found its way on Cora's cheeks and brushed away her tears. He knew that this summer had been awfully hard on Cora. He was proud to have her feel comfortable around him. He was pleased that she felt safe in his arms. Cora's head leaned against his broad shoulders, his arm wrapped around her.
Now that Cora could see, without her tears blurring her eyesight, she could see the far green hills, although they slumbered making them look nearly black with shadows. Before the hills, the trees swayed in the breeze, whistling a foreign tune. To the North, where Chingachgook watched, Cora could hear the distance trickle of the stream, where she and Alice had drawn water from. Almost more beautifully than the scenery, Cora could hear the peep frogs, singing in the summer night. The cicadas added to the ambience, and Cora felt at peace.
----
"My father's people say that at the birth of the sun and of his brother the moon, their mother died. So the sun gave to the earth her body, from which was to spring all life. And he drew forth from her breast the stars, and the stars he threw into the night sky to remind him of her soul. So there's the Cameron's monument. My folks' too, I guess."
"You are right, Mr. Poe. We do not understand what is happening here. And it's not as I imagined it would be, thinking of it in Boston and in London..."
"Sorry to disappoint you."
"No, on the contrary. It is more deeply stirring to my blood than any imagining could possibly have been."
---
It was true, this beautiful land was and would likely always be "deeply stirring" to Cora. Cora assumed it was just as stirring to Nathaniel.
Nathaniel wrapped Cora in her blanket and adjusted her in his arms, since they both knew Cora would not be returning to the fire to sleep. Nope, she was staying where she was at. With Nathaniel facing the East.
The last Cora recalled of that night was the slumbering valley, the singing of frogs, and most importantly. Nathaniel. His steady heartbeat added to the soft sounds. His strong arms grasping her tightly. And Cora knew she was safe.