Disclaimer: Any and all characters or affiliates showed in this piece of work are owned by the author, etc. and not myself. This is not a source of copyright infringement. -In other words, I'm playing and don't own jack ^_^
Also, I am writing this on information that I have studied but can only recall from memory. As such, some things may be wrong and/or out of order. I will check the big subject areas; otherwise, everything is written from memory, and I apologize for all mistakes.
Enjoy! Happy reading! :)
Jasper's POV (1776-New York)
I rolled my eyes and groaned as the boy beside me dropped backwards, eyes wide open. I sighed, placing my gun beside me as dirt flew up as the cannonball planted into the ground. Damn, they were good aiming men, that's for sure. I shook my head, bending over the poor boy's body and ripped the necklace from his neck. I checked over the name blindly, searching as more sand and grass remnants sprayed over us. Samuel L. Williams. I looked down on the boy with pity. He could not be over the age of fifteen, if not younger. That was much too short a life, and it was for a short lived cause as we had already almost lost this forsaken place.
I gripped the chain in my hand, taking hold of my gun as I tilted my head backwards, bending my back. I could the British soldiers lined up across the field, near as one hundred yards. Their muskets were lined up to perfection, every angle, load, and trigger pull practiced to be synchronized. The act was to erect fear in the hearts of their opponents. According to the men around me, the ones that were still alive, it was working pretty damn well. I growled as three men more men were taken around me. Gripping my gun, I loaded a musket ball, firing and reloading as quickly as I could. Five soldiers dropped at my onslaught. Even so, it was not enough for us to take the win. It was all I could do from calling up a retreat in that very instance.
"Pull back! Pull back!" my commander yelled, running around like a chicken with its head cutoff. "Take to the trees! Take to the trees! Hide in the shadows!"
Huh. So, he had realized how bad this was getting. Maybe he wasn't as bad at his job as I thought he was. I took the gun in hand and, like my fellow brothers, took off into the woods. I took a roundabout route, hiding deep within the dense parts of the area as the shadows slowly vanished with the rising sun.
Man upon man, a crowd of near one thousand took off into the woods. The sounds of leaves crackling and branches breaking smothered the forest. Other than the occasional breathing that roared up as a body fell down, and the breaths teetering out, those were the only sounds. I rushed out into the forest, taking to a large tree and resting against it, lowering to the ground. It was of little cover, but as they say, "less is more." This situation was a prime example for those very words.
Soldiers flew past me, speeding to safer grounds. But here, there truly was no safer area. I waited, the silence enveloping the shadows. I could only hear my breathing, and it was maddening. My head turned, my eyes shooting to the left as I scanned the area with my sensitive eyes. Seconds and then...movement. A twig snapped. I rolled forward, planting to the balls of my feet, gun gripped across my chest. I pushed up swiftly, swinging around and popping my gun to attention, poised to fire. I twisted the weapon from side to side, scanning the wide range I held in vision.
"Come on," I whispered inaudibly, only parting my lips enough for the sheer words to escape. "Make a mistake, my brethren."
Crack!
I whirled around. I came face to face with the end of a pristine musket, the newly polished, close combat weapon glinting in the sun. I stared into the barrel of the gun, the death color inside of it growing more intimidating by the second. Finally, I moved my eyes to the wielder of the deadly weapon. The man was tall and proud. His stark brown eyes held tricks and dangers showing arriving death. Death would be scared himself, I'm sure. I glanced upwards, past the man's forehead to the dressing that was planted firmly upon his head. The headdress stood tall, the sharp golden material just as menacing with its high stature as the murder weapon pressed close to my face. Seconds passed and neither body moved. I stood calmly, staring into the man's eyes. I had been in this situation too many times to care. Though, of all the ways I could die, torture from a Hessian mercenary was definitely not on my to-do list.
The knife grew closer to my face, aimed straight at my eyes.
"Drop your gun, soldier," he commanded, a strong German accent flowing through his words.
Wanting to comply, or trick him, I suppose, I loosened my fingers. The gun clanked to the ground, bouncing on the hard roots at the base of the massive tree. I waited as the gun stopped. In which time, I twitched my fingers, drawing the Hessian's attention. As soon as his eyes traced downward, I flew into action. I threw my hand up and out, bumping his gun away and almost right out of his hands. He made to pull the weapon into its proper position, but my fist connected with his jaw before he got the chance. He stumbled backwards, gripping his newly injured jaw as his gun fell away. I wrench the gun from the ground and go at him. His once deathly eyes widen in unrestricted fear. I take the butt of the gun in one hand and grip the barrel in the other. I kick him to the ground, and push forward, planting the knife into his abdomen. He stutters and falls back, eyes wide. The life faded fast. One final trickle of blood drips from the corner of his lips.
I bend down, laying the gun across his body. I say a short prayer for the soul that passes from the body, to wherever it may go. I appraise the body and pick my gun up in the process.
"You will be missed, my fellow man. I, too, fight for my country. Your life, however, was wasted for those that do not deserve it. Your men will miss you, and I trust you were once a magnificent man. And you would have been had you not been so cruel," I said to the lifeless man. "Even so, all's fair in love and war, mate. And you lost while we are losing this God forsaken battle." I sighed and stood, walking away.
"God's speed to all of you," I whispered to the empty woods.
I make my way to the outer ridges of the woods, but I don't get but a few more yards when a fellow's sudden appearance stops me. I took a few steps towards the shaking form, noticing the color of his uniform. Taking a closer look, I smile ever so slightly in joy at seeing a familiar face.
"William," I call quietly. No reply. I walk even closer. "William!" I press my tone hard.
His eyes whip to mine, and he scrambles to his feet. His breathing is shallow but fast; the fear is practically tangible.
"Jasper!" he gasped. He looks up and down my dirt and blood covered body, his eyes wild. "Why have you not retreated?"
I looked at him incredulously, "I could ask you the same, but if you must know, I was found by a Hessian as I hid. My retreat was quite delayed."
He nodded in understanding. Then, a cannonball exploded near us, the ground flying up around us. Instinctively, I pulled him away from the blast. We tumbled backwards. He hit the ground, flat on his back, and I fell hard on my shoulder and elbow. The debris settled as I groaned in pain. I was breathing hard, lost in the moment of death that was sure to come, especially if we waited. They were getting closer, and in a much faster manner than I had imagined.
"Cannot stay here," I grumbled in a gruff voice. "They are almost upon us, we must go. Can you walk?" I asked him.
Groaning, he nodded slightly. "Yes," he replied, and then a smile of humor fell over his face. "Well, limp is more like it. I twisted my leg on the way down here."
I shrugged urgently, wrapping my arm around his shoulders. He moaned as we rose, his leg protesting as his body weight was placed on it. My arm trembled, my shoulder and elbow burning as they swung by my body.
"Limping is better than nothing," I injected. "Now, we must pull away. We will be back with the men in no time."
He nodded silently, and we began to move. I stood, humped to the side as William limped alongside me. The sounds of battle had ceased by now, the sun not even at its peak yet. I looked up between the trees, the sun's rays beaming blindingly now on the Earth. I sighed, looking back to our path. A defeat before midday, what a horrid way to begin a revolution indeed.
Silence enveloped us we hobbled across the uneven grounds. Every now and then, we would cross a body. They ranged from our companions to our enemies, dismembered to full body, recognizable to unrecognizable. With everybody we passed, I could tell that William's nerves were fraying. He was a great fighter, but he had a horrible time at stomaching the dead. I was immune to it. I had seen death in its harshest forms, every bodily image was imprinted along the inside walls of my skull. I blinked hard, cursing the visions that swam through my mind.
We walked for an hour or so before we finally reached the camp. All of the survivors were rummaging around or sitting around the fire. Some were writing letters to their families. Others were shedding tears as they realized that their friends were gone. I sighed, looking over at the tent that sat in the middle at the end of the two columns of white, cloth covered tents. The flap over the doorway was swinging as though it had just been open. My eyes tightened. The man inside those triangular walls better feel damn proud of himself. I shook my head and continued walking towards the nurses' tent. It was right next to mine, resting in the center of the column. There were six nurses that had taken up on traveling with the soldiers in this time of need, giving their services, even in the midst of war. Practically all of them were soldier's wives and exceptionally protected. My wife included.
If I was being honest with myself, my wife was probably the most protected over any of them, especially for the fact that I taught her fight and shoot again just before any of this started. I was a coveting man and took care of what I had. All of those feelings fell upon my lovely bride as soon as I met her. I found her and knew she was for me. Our marriage is going on two years, and look where we are now, traveling together under the worst circumstances imaginable. Even so, she was much stronger than any man in the army. She put up with me and my...condition, and suffered through it with me.
One would take this moment to ask, what is my condition?
Well, it's quite hard to explain, but I trust a visual will suffice. Imagine a man, out in the middle of battle. Sword in hand, covered in armor, fighting vigorously to kill his enemy. Then, he falls to death, but it is not death that has taken him. As soon as his eyes close, new sounds fill his ears, and he opens his eyes to another time, another day, and years from that moment when he passed. He literally passed to another battle, and he was once again fighting. He looked the same, spoke the same, acted the same, and he was, quite the same. Well, I am that man. Every time I die, I come back in another battle, suffering for my ancestors mistakes. Now, one would wonder how my wife fits into all of this. Well, if I die, what does one think happens to her? Yes, she dies right alongside with me. But there's another thing. I never age, and neither does she, no matter how many times we die. It's a rather morbid marital union we have here, but we love each other, and that's the only reason it actually works.
"So close to be cared for, Jasper," William's quiet words draw me from my thoughts.
I focus my eyes to see that we are at the tent. I reach my aching arm forward, wrapping the thin material between my fingers and pulling the flaps apart. I help William hobble into the decent sized tent, groaning quietly as my shoulder twists when I drop my arm. The nurse closest to the door, Madeline, turns to us immediately. She gasps and swiftly walks over. She takes Williams other arm, planting over her shoulder and leads us to a close cot. I help her lay William down on the hard surface, and he groans loudly. Madeline immediately hands him a bottle of whiskey, giving him commands to drink so she can set his bent leg back into place so she can stint it into place. I fall back, sitting heavily on the cot beside his, rubbing my shoulder delicately.
William's eyes focus on mine, and he hands over the bottle. I nod my head in thanks, taking a swig of the liquor. I swallow, the liquid already having its affect. I pull the bottle from my lips, licking my lips for one more taste. I give him the bottle. He reaches a hand out. I shake it, nodding my head before I look around the tent.
"Madeline?" I ask as she flits about me, gathering supplies.
"Yes, dear?" she wonders, glancing at me. She rushes around, her long white hair piled upon her head, loose strands swinging across her back.
"Where's Isabella?" I look around the tent again, thinking I had missed her in the group of three brunettes sewing in the corner.
"She'll arrive soon, Mr. Whitlock. She had to make a visit to Mr. Carter's tent to make sure that his arm was healing properly." She glanced over at me as I removed my shirt painfully slow. The bruises along my arms were phenomenal. My entire shoulder was black and blue. I winced, shaking my head as she continued, "I have no doubt that Isabella will be extremely concerned when she walks in. Your shoulder is going to need some work." She walked over to me, tapping my shoulder. I hissed, glaring at her over my shoulder as she walked out. She laughed all the while. "Why, hello, Isabella!" Madeline called as she disappeared from view.
I smiled, my recent pain fading fast at her name. I turned on the cot, looking at the entrance as the flap opened. In walked in one of the most beautiful creatures to ever grace the Earth, her waist length, brunette hair swung across her back like waterfall of mahogany. Her rosy cheeks and lusciously red lips were absolutely adorable against her ivory skin, even better, those hazel eyes that just sparkled. Now, though, they were wide and filled with shock. I smiled sheepishly as she rushed over to me, dropping to her knees in front of me and raising her hands to my cheeks.
"You're okay," she gasped, looking me over. I chuckled a little, but my laughter soon turned into a groan as her fist pounded against my shoulder. "Do you know how worried I've been?" she growled. I looked down at my shoulder before tilted my head down and looking up at her with the best puppy dog eyes I could muster.
She dropped her hands, standing and walking over to a basin of water with a cloth. She grabbed the items and walked back over to me, glancing at my face. A small smile spread across her face, and I knew I had her. She dipped the cloth into the ice cold water before dabbing it across my shoulder. I took a sharp breath in before sighing as the numbing sensation set in. She giggled at the joy on my face. I smiled at the sound. She came closer, checking over my entire shoulder, and I leaned forward, pressing my lips in a soft kiss on her cheek.
"I'm sorry I worried you, Darlin'," I whispered, my breath brushing her ear.
She turned her head, her eyes staring into mine. Slowly, she moved forward, pressing her lips to mine. I smiled into the kiss, her magnificently soft lips curling against mine as she mirrored the action. Our lips were molded together until an urgent voice forced Bella to pull away.
"Whitlock!"
She pulled away, her cheeks vibrant red. I looked over to the tent door to see General Lee staring at me. Well, I suppose he meant to. His eyes were occupied with more beautiful things, like my wife. I glared at him, as Isabella turned her back to him, leaning her head into my chest as she continued her ministrations of the cloth on my shoulder. His eyes switched to mine.
"Yes, General?" I asked my voice hard.
"General Washington wishes to see you, immediately," he replied.
I nodded and looked down at Bella. She had moved her head and was now staring straight at General Lee. With her hypnotizing eyes, I could see he was getting uncomfortable under her gaze. He stared a moment, trying to compete with her, but he soon failed and walked out of the tent. I snickered. He was such a coward.
"I believe you scared him, Angel," I murmured.
She lifted an eyebrow, placing the cloth in the water. "It's no more than he deserves," she grumbled, picking up my shirt, "I'm uncomfortable around him, Jasper."
I rubbed her shoulder, standing. "He will not get close to you." She stood, and I pecked her forehead softly. She smiled beautifully, holding my shirt up. I turned, slipping my arms in the sleeves. I faced her again, and she began buttoning the shirt. She quickly had everything done.
"I love you," she whispered, love shining in her eyes.
"I love you," I murmured, kissing her lips softly. "I'll be back soon."
I stepped out into the sunlight, shading my eyes as I made my way to General Washington's tent. I reached it, and stuck my head through the flap.
"General?"
He looked up from the paper in his hand. He smiled, nodding his head to confirm my entrance. I walked in, sitting on the stool across from his. He turned, folding and resting the paper on the short desk beside him.
"Good evening, Mr. Whitlock," he said.
"You too, sir," I looked about the tent, noticing the crumbled map to the side. Deep marks lined the parchment, ink spill stains littering the entire canvas. "Problems, sir?" I wondered, motioning to the destroyed paper.
He glanced at it, "Some. I was wondering, what are your thoughts on Ft. Washington?"
My eyes met his. Personally, it sounded like a bad idea, especially since we lost the battle this morning... "Do we have enough men for that?"
He stood, moving to the entry way and pushing the flap to the side. He stared out for a moment before turning and waving his hand for me to stand beside him. I stood and came to him. He pointed out to the camp, and my eyes followed his direction. The camp was filled with downtrodden men, bleeding men, starving men, sick men. I looked to him, my eyebrows pulled together.
"We need to boost the morale. Ft. Washington may be our only hope to do that, as of late." He rested his hand on my uninjured shoulder, grasping the fabric there. "I want to bring a win to the colonies. Then, we can restart the Revolution with a win," he stated.
I nodded, looking away. "It's your decision, sir." I stared at him. "Though, I pray that your plan does not backfire. Otherwise, you will have even less of an army than you have now."
He patted my shoulder, silently agree. "We will go to the fort." He sat back on his stool, lifting the paper from earlier back into his view. "You are dismissed."
I walked out, making my way to mine and Bella's tent. My mind racing as I looked over the men scattered around the area. They were the living pictures of some sort of success. Even when retreating, we were still the strongest for our hearts. Though, that meant nothing with no will to fight. Another loss could tear the army down so much that many decidedly backed out of their positions, leaving the cause to return to their families. I could not, would not, leave. I would only do so if Bella wished, but she will follow me. It's doubtful that we will go anywhere, but what about the other men? Assuredly, they would wish to return to their old lives. The cause would be wasted on them. It officially meant nothing. I shook my head, forcing a low growling sound to rumble through my chest. I passed through the flap of our tent, my thoughts not stopping as I tumbled onto the bed, resting on my uninjured side. One loss and everything falls to the deepest pits of hell. I was beginning to feat that all of this was a wasted effort. It would take a lot to get everything back on track.
I flipped to my back carefully. The fight, the drive was fading fast. To the British, this was simply a dot on their calendars, but for us it was our entire year going up in flames. Too often I had seen the strength of men fail. I refused to see it happen again. Fort Washington would have to be won. If not, then we must find a way to make everyone stay close, stay in the war, even if just a bit longer. I had a bad feeling about Washington's idea, but I could tell that something was brewing beyond this oddly crafted idea, something big. Something we need.
A win, even if just one.
As they say, "less is more..."
"These are the times that try men's souls..." ~Thomas Paine- American Crisis (1776)
There's the first chapter! This was not as action filled as I would have liked, but things will get better, and there will be even more fluffy moments with Jasper/Bella.
There are historical facts listed in this story. I will be researching as I go and will make every event as accurate as possible while fitting everything into the story.
Please, review, favorite, and set alerts. I would love to hear what everyone has to say!
~Much Love-Zoe-VSA-XOXOX
P.S. Bear in mind, these chapters will come out with my research/studies; therefore, these will not be amazingly quick chapters, but they will definitely be worth it! :)