So, as a guest, I can't message you, but to Jay who left the review on 'In the Wake of Battle'. Thank you for your review. I appreciate it and will certainly attempt to write a fic like you described. I am seriously deprived when it comes to the imagining up of details. I can't even read a book unless I've watched the movie first. lol It's why most of my stories are small little moments in time. I've found I can really connect with emotions, but everything else is usually lacking. But I will definitely make the attempt. I have a sort of idea, but I'm not sure anything will actually come of it. Once again, thanks!
Anyway, on to this...
"Is that jar moving?" He turned to her as he picked it up. "This is witchcraft." His eyes widened. "You're a witch!" He pulled his pistol and fired at her.
Reflexively jerking her hand up, she felt the pressure of her magic surround her as the bullet hit her skin. With a sigh, she glanced down at the round piece of metal in her hand as he began unsteadily backing away.
Earlier that day
Something was wrong. She could feel it in every fiber of her being. It wasn't the smell of blood and burning flesh, or the shaking ground beneath her feet. Those things were supposed to be here. This was something else entirely. Something much more sinister.
"Katrina!" Startled back to the present, she glanced up at the nurse across from her. "What are you doing? Apply pressure."
Focusing back on the wounded man before her, she did as she was asked. The feeling, however, would not leave her.
"He's fading."
Charlotte was right. The man was fading.
"We could-" Her words fell away as something tugged at her. "No..."
Standing straight, she glanced toward the door of the old building.
"Katrina? What are you doing?"
Charlotte's words had no effect on her. Unsteadily moving toward the door, she followed her senses.
"Katrina!" Alfred's voice broke through to her.
Spinning around, she found him with a slightly panicked expression.
"You need to come...now."
"Why?" She knew why, but the need for doubt in herself was desperately beckoning to her louder than it ever had before.
Alfred shook his head. "Now, Katrina." With no further words, he moved toward the opposite side of the building.
For a moment, she couldn't make herself move, but an explosion too close for comfort hit right outside the building, prodding her into movement. Once she was headed in the direction Alfred had disappeared in, she found herself nearly running.
Upon rounding the corner, she noticed Alfred and a surgeon leaning over a cot, whispering heatedly.
"No, no, no, no..." Rushing forward, she collapsed beside the cot. "Ichabod, no."
She didn't know what to do. This was every nightmare she'd ever had. Grabbing one of his blood soaked hands, she slid her other along his face.
"Ichabod."
The surgeon was holding pressure to the large gash running along his chest. Setting aside her surprise at the type of wound he bore, she tightened her fingers around his before bringing the other up to slide along his arm.
"Ichabod, stay with me." Placing a kiss to his hand, she begged. "Please stay with me."
Running a hand through his hair, she glanced up at the surgeon in confusion as he stepped back with a shake of his head to Alfred.
"What are you doing?"
He cast her a sympathetic glance before moving to another cot.
"Katrina," Alfred urged.
Shaking her head, she looked back to Ichabod, tears obscuring her vision. "No, we can save him."
"It's too late, Katrina."
Fighting against reality, she stroked Ichabod's face. "My love, please. Don't leave me."
His eyes weakly found hers. "Katrina..."
"I'm here," she whispered, leaning closer to him. "You're going to be okay and we're going to go home, just like we talked about."
"Perhaps you should return home."
Tightening her hold on his hand, she smiled. "Or...perhaps you should return home."
His sigh reached her ears causing her to glance up at him. Seeing his mouth in a thin line indicating he was holding back a retort, she chuckled.
"Ichabod-"
"I don't understand why you must insist upon being here."
After a moment of staring at him, she placed her gaze back on the forest ahead of them as they walked.
"It's my duty to be here."
"No, it's my duty. It's your choice."
Stopping, she fixed him with a stern glare. "You think your role in this war is more important than mine?" He opened his mouth, but she continued before he could. "I save lives, Ichabod."
"I realize that, Katrina, but-"
"There is no 'but', Ichabod. My life is no more important than anyone else's."
"It is to me."
It was the way in which he said it that made her pause in her rant, his voice small, almost a whisper. That combined with his weary stance made her rethink diving into another defensive argument.
"I know." Stepping closer to him, she threaded her fingers through his. "But unlike every other wife out there, I am blessed with a gift. A gift that allows me to be here with you."
His eyes fell from hers to their hands. "Why couldn't you have had a different talent?"
"What sort of talent would you like for me to have had?" she asked with a chuckle.
Shrugging, he smiled. "Cooking."
She slapped his chest with a huff. "I cook just fine, Ichabod Crane."
One of his eyebrows rose as he darted a glance at her face. "Of course, you do, my love. Your wondrous cooking is why I'm such a huge man."
Flexing her jaw, she spoke. "Well, if I'm so terrible, from now on, you can cook. See if you can do better."
Smirking, he dropped her hand before sliding his hands around her waist to pull her body flush into his own.
"Very well," he whispered, leaning close to her ear. "But at the moment, I'd prefer to sample one of my more favorite of your talents."
Her breath hitched at his warm breath on her skin. "And which one is that?"
His hands tightened around her before he backed her against a tree.
As his lips brushed along her jaw, her body shivered. "Ichabod, what if someone comes looking for us?"
He pulled back to catch her eyes. "Then, we'll have to be quick." As he spoke, she felt his fingers tug at the front of her dress and slowly pull it up her legs. Eyes leaving hers to glance down her body, he added. "Well, not too quick."
About to form a retort, it melted away as his mouth fell to her chest, his tongue jutting out to slip beneath the top of her dress to run along her breast. If that weren't enough to jumble her brain, his hand began to slip along her thigh in an upward direction.
Gripping his upper arms, she let her head fall back against the tree as he finally touched her.
"Ichabod..."
"Yes, my love?" His mouth journeyed up to her neck, burning kisses along her throat.
"Please..."
His hand left her and she nearly protested until she noticed his hands tugging at his trousers. More than ready, she glanced to his eyes. The desire she found there nearly dropped her to her knees.
"Hurry."
He nodded before looking down to his hands.
"It's stuck."
"What?" Her eyes fell as well.
"I can't-" His fingers were tugging at the button, but his efforts were proving unyielding.
Growing frustrated, she dropped her hands to assist him, but the button wouldn't budge. After a moment of fruitless gain, she frowned.
"What did you do?"
"I don't know." His voice sounded equally as frustrated as hers. "The thread's caught around it."
With a last pull and no success, she groaned. "Ichabod, fix it."
He looked up at her with a glare. "I'm trying."
As he, once again, resumed his efforts with the blasted button, she leaned back against the tree, eyes falling closed, doing her best to slow her breathing as her body throbbed with need.
When she heard him release a curse, she glanced back at him again as he frowned. He looked as though he were about ready to pull out a knife and slice the button right off.
"Let me-"
"No, this is absolutely ridiculous."
At the end of her patience and desperate to feel him, she summoned her magic and concentrated.
"Ichabod."
Once she had his eyes on hers and fully distracted, she twitched her hand to the side. The button flew off his trousers and landed somewhere in the leaves to their right.
Ichabod jumped and glanced back down. "What-?"
"Finally." Reaching for him, she grabbed his arm and pulled him against her, her mouth immediately finding his. It only took him a moment to find himself and resume his mission. As one of his hands fiddled with his trousers, the other slid to her neck. The feeling that began to shoot through her only heightened when she finally had him where she wanted.
"I love you."
Though his body continued to move with hers, his kisses ceased as he leaned his forehead to hers.
"I love you, too, Katrina. Always, my love."
His eyes were always so dark in these moments. The moments where they were as close as possible. Staring into them as he loved her made everything more heightened, more...everything.
As her body jerked against his, a deep sensation began to build in her belly. Gripping his shoulders, she closed her eyes and arched her body into his as she quaked in his arms.
"Katrina..."
Ichabod tightened his hold in her hair as his head fell to her shoulder. Not a moment later, he came undone.
Taking a moment to calm her breathing, she stroked his hair.
"Quick, very quick."
His chuckle shook the both of them as he lifted his head to find her eyes. "That's very unfair. It's been months. Light kisses stolen when no one is looking is to be blamed for this."
Laying a hand to his cheek, she smiled. "It was perfect."
With a smile, he leaned forward and brushed his lips over hers. Sighing into his light kisses, she smiled when he pulled back with a frown.
"What?"
Eyes dancing over his face, she whispered. "I was just thinking...I'm going to miss this when we return home."
He chuckled. "You mean sneaking amongst the trees and making love in the open with the ever looming threat that someone will stumble upon us?" When she only shrugged, he drug his fingers along her lips, his eyes trailing after them. "I will as well."
Stepping away from her and allowing her dress to fall back into place, he smirked. "I suppose we'll have to make due with a soft bed."
She laughed as he adjusted his trousers. "I suppose."
After a moment, he frowned and looked around. "Perfect."
"What?"
"Where is it?"
Confused, she watched as he knelt and began shuffling about some leaves. Realizing he was looking for his button, she chuckled and bent to help him in his search.
"We could get you another."
He continued rustling the leaves. "This one has..." He glanced at her with a raised eyebrow. "Sentimental value."
Smiling, she glanced about and spotted it a few feet away. "Here."
When she placed it in his hand, he frowned. "How did it get over there?"
Quickly searching her mind for an explanation, she chose, instead, to shrug before threading her fingers through his.
"We should get back."
With a last glance at the place the button had been, he nodded. "Of course."
Making her way through the chaos of men rushing about, she nodded to the soldiers guarding the tent. As they parted the fold for her, she entered to find General Washington, along with Alfred, leaning over a map.
Alfred bore a weary expression. "The time has come."
"Are you sure?" Washington asked, straightening.
Making her presence known, she asked, "What time?"
They both turned to her, but it was Alfred who spoke. "The rider is upon us, Katrina."
A coldness swept through her. "How do you know?"
"He's been spotted in the Valley."
"I'll send a messenger to collect Captain Crane."
Katrina's gaze darted to Washington. "No, he's not ready."
"Katrina-"
"No, Alfred! He doesn't know anything about any of this."
Alfred stepped around the table. "It's his destiny. You knew that before any of us. His time has come." He paused a moment. "I understand this must be difficult, but the time for protecting him is over. You must allow him to perform his mission."
Her eyes darted about the tent as the sounds of gun and cannon fire echoed around them. "I'll tell him."
"With all due respect, Mrs. Crane," Washington cut in, "I feel it would be best that the news came from me."
She frowned. "I'm his wife."
"Exactly, which is why I shall be the one to speak with him." He gestured to the opening of the tent. "His mission will be difficult enough without the added knowledge of your part in this fight. We cannot send him to face this evil with conflicted thoughts about his wife on his mind."
Not wanting to agree with him, but knowing she had little room for rebuttal, she brought a hand to her head, the weight of her choices weighing heavily on her.
"Sir?"
Washington turned to his messenger. "Collect Captain Crane immediately."
The young man nodded and took off at a quick pace.
As soon as he was out of sight, Katrina fixed the General with a stern gaze. "You will send additional men with him."
"I'd already planned on it." He circled back to his map. "I'll give him the location and a means to identify the rider."
Katrina nodded. "His mark, the bow."
They went over a few more details until she felt his presence and beckoned Alfred to follow her out of the tent.
Taking to the shadows, she spotted his approach and kept her eyes trained upon him until he was inside the tent, hoping with everything inside of her that this wouldn't be the last time she laid eyes upon him.
Alfred's hand touched her arm.
Throwing him a glare, she bit out. "Let me go. I need to heal him. I have to take him home."
"You can't."
Frowning, she asked. "What?"
Alfred looked white as a sheet. "He's been touched by Death." He glanced down at Ichabod. "Their bloodlines merged, Katrina. He must be disposed of."
"No!" She shook her head. "No, I'll find a way to separate them."
"There is no way."
"There has to be a spell, something." She gave Alfred a desperate look. "Please, you must let me try. His work is not done. This isn't the end for him, Alfred. You know that."
"You're letting your love for him make this decision, Katrina."
"Of course, I am, but that doesn't mean I'm wrong."
He sighed before looking back at Ichabod. "You'll need to hide him, somewhere not even I will find."
Nodding her head, she turned to her husband.
"I'm so sorry, my love. I should have told you. I should've-" His eyes closed and her panic heightened. "Ichabod, no, no, no. Please, look at me."
"Katrina," Alfred bit out as he laid the Bible to Ichabod's chest. "We don't have much time."
Sucking in her sob, she leaned close to him. "I swear I will find a way to free you, my love." Placing a kiss to his lips, she whispered. "I love you."
With a deep breath, she attempted to pull herself together. Laying one hand over his on the Bible and the other to his forehead, she closed her eyes and began the spell that would suspend him for however long was needed.
Once it was completed, she glanced to Alfred. "It is done."
He nodded, then picked up the Bible. "We must hurry. I've already sent for the Horseman's body. They both need to be moved to secure locations."
Eyes falling back to Ichabod, she nodded. "I'll secure Ichabod." Standing, she glanced about the room. "Summon the other members of the coven. You'll need to secure the Horseman. Take him to the deepest part of the river. Entomb him there."
"And what of you? The others will not take kindly to this. They'll come for you to root out his location."
She shook her head. "They won't find me." Turning to a nearby soldier, she grasped his arm. "Find me a wagon."
The man began to protest, but she held up a hand. "I have orders from General Washington to move Captain Crane to another location. Find me a wagon, now."
The man needed no further prodding and took off toward an opening in the building.
"Katrina-"
"You have your orders, Alfred." She fixed him with all the authority she bore. "See to them."
He hesitated for a moment before handing her the Bible. Giving a slight bow, he followed the path of the soldier.
With a deep breath, she turned back to Ichabod. He looked peaceful, as if he might only be sleeping.
"Madam." She glanced up to find the soldier. "There's a wagon already right outside."
Nodding, Katrina pointed to Ichabod. "Help me load him."
The young man rushed forward.
Once they had Ichabod secured, she ordered him to the location she had in mind.
"What are we doing here? I thought you said-"
"It's need to know. Help me get him inside."
He hesitated for a moment before stepping forward and lifting Ichabod up. Once he settled him in the appropriate place, he stood.
"Now what?" For the first time, he looked about. "What is this place?"
Katrina knew he was about to come to the realization. The many jars containing ingredients for spells were a sure giveaway. She'd discovered this place as a child wandering about the woods. It was an old abandoned Mason hideaway. No one else knew of it and she intended to keep it that way.
"Is that jar moving?" He turned to her as he picked it up. "This is witchcraft." His eyes widened. "You're a witch!" He pulled his pistol and fired at her.
Reflexively jerking her hand up, she felt the pressure of her magic surround her as the bullet hit her skin. With a sigh, she glanced down at the round piece of metal in her hand as he began unsteadily backing away.
"I don't want to hurt you, but know that I will if I must." She tossed the bullet toward him and he stumbled slightly as he caught it. "What is your name?"
"Br-Brighton," he stuttered.
Swallowing back her guilt, Katrina took a step toward the man, or boy. He couldn't be older than nineteen. He began stumbling backwards until he met the wall. Once she was close, she grabbed his hand and pulled out a dagger.
"What are you doing!? I thought you said-"
He screamed as she dug the dagger into his palm and began carving a symbol. When she was done, she chanted the appropriate spell, before holding her other hand over the wound to allow her access to heal the gushing cuts.
"What-?" he looked up at her confused.
"I've hexed you, Brighton."
Wide eyed, he looked at his hand. "Hexed me?"
"I'm so sorry, but I cannot allow you to depart from here without the insurance that you'll never whisper a word of this to anyone."
"I won't, I swear!"
Glancing back at Ichabod, she closed her eyes. "I cannot allow harm to come to my husband." She gestured to his hand. "If you ever form the intention to breathe a word of this to anyone, that hex will end you before you've formed the words in your mind."
His eyes widened as he looked down at his hand. "It'll kill me?"
Sighing, she nodded. "I should end you right now, but I cannot bring myself to do it. As long as you keep this secret, I swear, no harm will come to you."
He glanced over at Ichabod. "What are you doing with him?"
"You don't need to know that, but you are going to help me." Pointing to some jars lining the wall, she ordered. "Grab those."
As he jumped to follow her order, she returned to Ichabod's side. With a deep breath, she set about repairing his clothing. As she directed her magic to mend his shirt, she dipped a cloth into a bowl of water and began to gently wash the blood from his face.
"Is this everything you need?"
Glancing up at the boy, she nodded. "Yes."
Finishing her task, she ordered Brighton to lift him so she could pull Ichabod's coat onto him.
"Now what?"
Standing, she summoned her magic and waved her hand over the area at Ichabod's side. The mud parted and a shallow grave formed.
"You're burying him?"
"Place him in the grave."
Brighton hesitated for a moment before following her order. Once he'd accomplished his task, she knelt beside Ichabod.
"There's a jar over there, it contains salt. Bring it to me." He did as she asked. "Wait for me outside."
As soon as he was out of sight, she leaned over Ichabod. "I swear we will see each other again, my love." Running her hand along his face, she felt tears beginning to make their way down her face. "I love you, Ichabod Crane."
With great effort, she pushed herself up and summoned the mud to cover him. Once that task was accomplished, she began spreading the salt and placing the jars containing various live animals and ingredients around him at particular points.
After a while, she began to grow weary at the casting of the enchantments. That combined with her emotional state forced her to drop to her knees at his graveside.
Overwhelmed with a sudden rush of tears, she laid her hand to the place his body lay.
"I'm so sorry. Please forgive me."
Emerging from the dark cave, she found Brighton leaning against the wagon.
Upon seeing her, he straightened. "Are we leaving?"
Regarding the boy for a moment, Katrina sighed. "I'm sorry I've brought this upon you." She glanced about the wooded area. "Return to your duties."
When he didn't move, she looked back toward him to find him frowning. "What about you?"
"I'll find my own way." Stepping closer to the boy, she grabbed his hand and took in the light scar of the hex. "Remember, it won't hurt you if you don't hurt me or my husband."
"But your husband's dead."
She attempted with everything within her to let those words roll off her back, but it was of no use. They still managed to prick at her heart. Reaching into the wagon, she grabbed her cloak and bag. "Goodbye, Brighton, I truly appreciate your help."
With those words, she allowed her magic to wrap around her and the woods disappeared. She had much to do.
Sorry if this was scatterbrained. I wrote the greater majority of it in the middle of the night a couple of days ago hyped up on quite a bit of coffee. Hope it was enjoyable:)