Disclaimer: I do not own the Patriot nor any of its character including Tavington sadly. The poem below belongs to the poetic brilliance of Lord Byron.
A/N: This is NOT a MS. This is a. . .I wouldn't say time travel fic exactly, I guess it's sort of supernatural/fantasy/spiritual all combined. PLEASE do give this a read and at least a chance. I would appreciate any critique, good or bad. A lot has happened in my life since I began writing this in 2004, and I've lost inspiration in writing. But that has been rekindled with love. I'll be updating regularly now, save next April2008 I depart for the Marines. Anyways, I very much hope you enjoy.
Summary: July of 2006-Elizabeth Martin is knocked unconscious one night when she is attacked. July of 1778-She awakes in a time of war different from her own, alone and disoriented she struggles to survive not knowing that she is in the throws of a dream. Once again conscious she struggles to forget the haunting dragoon colonel…
Rating: PG-13 (some language, gruesome violence, reference to rape, and more to come)
When We Two Parted
PROLOGUE
There is a saying that everything happens for a reason…if this is so, then it can be the only thing keeping me sane. Laying on a stale hospital bed, I find it hard to believe there is any reason at all for what happened to me five days ago. It is impossible to conceive how or even why it happened. For these past days and nights I have been struggling to force these thoughts…these memories from my damned mind. No, I do not speak of the attempted rape on my person nor of the multiple bruises and wounds that cover my broken body. What I speak of is something far more physical………no, not physical. It is something far more emotionally devastating….something that will torture me to insanity. The doctor had told me I was recuperating fine, and that I should be able to leave tomorrow morning at the earliest. This doctor……this medical professional cannot see the incisions deep in my heart and soul that only worsen by the day. He cannot see the pain which is eating my will to live…….no one sees. The doctor, nurses, and even my father all think that I am traumatized by the attack I experienced. They are all blind to what is really troubling me…a dream.
I guess one could say that this was no ordinary dream...if I could even call it a dream. How could I begin to explain this? I do not even understand what happened in the time I was knocked unconscious. My father explained to me that I was out for eighteen hours after they had me brought to the hospital…eighteen hours? No, to me it felt more like eighteen months…eighteen months of agonizing loss, war, destruction, and imprisonment. My mind crawled away from the fact that there was one crucial man that led me to all those downfalls. . . . . yet in the end saved me from them with his love. This very man continued to haunt me through my dreams and he lurked behind my every thought. He was the one causing this unbearable pain…when I closed my eyes it was his piercing eyes I saw…when someone touched me, it was his scalding touch I felt…when someone spoke it was his ardent voice I heard whispering in my ear beckoning me to him.
I would not linger over this…I couldn't! It was only a dream and nothing more…yes, only a dream. It's this hospital room; I needed to get out of here. Things would improve once I got back home and then I could leave all of this madness behind. I would not be weakened by the sheer memory of a man that did not even exist! This dream would cause me more pain than what was necessary if I did not erase it. . .him from my mind… I was more than willing to forget but, damn it, I cannot! It scared me to think that I had no control over my own thoughts…too many times have I turned to God for an answer. When the local pastor came he offered benevolent words of peace and solace to ease my troubled mind. I felt the need to ask him, was this all part of God's plan? I had asked him with a tinge of sarcasm and bitterness but still with his sympathetic eyes, he patted my hand and answered kindly.
"We may not know what God's plans are for us…but we do know that he loves us unconditionally and never forsakes us. Elizabeth . . . . We live in an imperfect world of sin and pain, and when we experience something just as you have…we feel the need to question who else but God. You feel hurt right now and probably are even angry at God for letting something like this happen to you. There are many things I could tell you. But I just want you to remember Elizabeth. . . . . Everything happens for a reason. Remember that…"
However he had thought I was asking about the attack when I was really wondering about the dream. I was not mad at God. But I did question him. I questioned his existence, his love, his perfection, and his intentions. My faith was quickly fading into the darkness and in its stead I could see the ugly beast of fear emerging from the blackest pit.
I had never been one to fear the unknown nor for myself. My father had always taught me to diligently face my fears and conquer them instead of accepting them. But now, irretrievable fear consumed me like a dangerous fire steadily growing with the fuel of time…and all I wanted to do was run away. I feared for my own sanity and peace of mind. I feared my father's comforting touch. I feared falling asleep. I feared these strange new feelings brewing in me……..and weirdly most of all I feared having lost forever the man in my dream. There was no comfort in the sudden realization that hit me. . . . . . . .
I loved him.
Quickly and without hesitation I buried that thought deep in the back of my mind to stay so that I could forget just as fast. With closed eyes I turned away from the sunlight's warm happy rays…trembling with the coldness of fear and uncertainty.
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This is the poem by Lord Byron I'm using as a small base for this story, it'll come more into play the last few chapters of this fanfic. And there are many chapters to come before that:
When
we two parted The dew
of the morning They name thee before me, In secret we met-- Lord Byron
in silence and tears,
half broken-hearted
to
sever for years,
Pale grew thy cheek and cold,
Colder thy
kiss;
truly that hour foretold
Sorrow to this.
Sunk chill on my brow--
It felt like the
warning
of what I feel now.
Thy vows are all broken,
and
light is thy fame;
I hear thy name spoken,
and share in its
shame.
A knell to mine ear;
A
shudder comes o'er me--
Why wert thou so dear?
They know not I
knew thee,
who knew thee too well:--
Long, long shall I rue
thee,
too deeply to tell.
In silence
I grieve
that thy heart could forget,
Thy spirit deceive.
If
I should meet thee
after long years,
How should I greet
thee?--
With silence and tears.
XxX