Note: My OC not real, but she consists of three or more factual people (women from that same time) upon her creation much like the character Benjamin Martin was based off in the film.

The song listed in this is "One Morning in May" - a 17th/18th century folk song.

This fanfic was made up out of pure imagination, particularly when I saw how many 'inaccuracies' there were in the movie (that means a lot of creative freedom lol), and when I saw Skunk (one of the militia men) who had a wide role in the film, but was kept to the back because, of course, the Martin family and Tavington for example being the main characters. I've always had an eye out for the background characters, and thinking to myself and deciphering 'what is their story?' Obviously, for this movie, it sparked motivation in me to write (more stories… that shall be finished one day. Fanfiction has become my ultimate hobby and home to my several stories). The 18th century/period dramas have been favorite of late, and the tallest man in the shady colonial tavern caught my eye and so, here I am. Not many Skunk/OC fanfics on here… maybe none lol, but not anymore. I will do my best to have everyone recognized from the film itself and to keep this as one of my detailed fanfics as I plan. I hope you all enjoy!

Prologue: Overture

One morning, one morning, one morning in May, I spied a young couple, they were making their way…
One was a maiden so bright and so fair and the other was a soldier and a brave volunteer…

Good morning, good morning, good morning said he, And where are you going my pretty lady?
I'm going out a-walking on the banks of the sea, Just to see the water's glide and hear the nightingale sing.

Now they had not been standing but a minute or two—When out of his knapsack a fiddle he drew.

And the tune that he played made the valleys all ring, Oh hark, cried the maiden, hear the nightingale sing.

Oh maiden, fair maiden, 'tis time to give o'er.

Oh no, kind soldier, please play one tune more—For I'd rather hear your fiddle at the touch of one string, Than to see the waters glide and hear the nightingale sing.

Oh soldier, kind soldier, will you marry me?

Oh no, pretty maiden, that never shall be. I've a wife down in London and children twice three—Two wives and the army's too many for me.

Well, I'll go back to London and I'll stay there for a year. It's often that I'll think of you, my little dear—And if ever I return it will be in the spring, Just to see the waters glide and hear the nightingale sing.
To see the waters glide and hear the nightingale sing….


~ Victoria's POV ~

If I could only see the looks on their faces now, they would have no idea who I am because of how much I have changed—more than I had living under their roof. My new appearance however has caused some rough rumor to spread more so than my old fashionable looks, which was the essence of pleasant rumor any woman would dream to hear. Those days, now, are far behind. Am I proud of it? No. But am I happy? I suppose. The decisions I have made all up until now have had my mind in a boggle.

It seemed like yesterday when my parents had sent me away to live with my uncle and aunt in Charleston, South Carolina. The number of British officers beginning to slowly take up the southern state was perhaps some of their reasoning. They (Loyalists) would like me to find a suitor with the help of my (Patriot) aunt and uncle. So much for that working out. How could they have not known they were Patriot before sending me still haunts me to this day.

As for their other reasoning to send me away of which I know all too greatly, is because of my spirited mannerisms, and because I was highly as I got older of the pompous, high pitched British voices toadying over me in proper decorum of high society. And, obviously, I was not allowed to be myself. They all could not accept that I was not a woman to be tamed, or kept tamed.

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