A/N – This is actually my second Patriot fanfic. I had started one on Gabriel's last few minutes on Earth and continued to when he made it into the afterlife. But needless to say that didn't work out to well. But this one I feel more confident about.
A/N2 – Now, for all those who think this is like all the other Tavington love stories where he captures a patriot woman, they fall in love, and everything is peachy keen, this is not so. Though my story leads down that road there is at least one turn in the opposite direction so please bear with me.
Disclaimer – I in no way, shape, or form own neither The Patriot nor any characters you see that you already know. I do, however, own the main character and her father. No suing me for copyrighting you won't get much money out of me anyway.
Also, for those who are a little out there, like me, the titled is a Pat Benetar song, though the song has nothing to do with this story. The title just summed up the story pretty well, in my opinion.
Summery – In his attempt to rid the continent of Patriots and Continental soldiers, Colonel William Tavington goes to a plantation home capturing a young woman by the name of Kristine. What he doesn't realize, though, is he captured far more than a bargaining chip.
Love is A Battlefield –
"Kristine, Kris…wake up." Kris jolted awake in a cold sweat. She looked around her and saw her father, Samual, leaning over her. "You were having that nightmare one more." She sighed and collapsed on the bed. "I'm sorry to have woken you," she said to her father. He shook his head, "I was up anyway. A battle is being fought a few miles away headed in our direction. I want you up and ready to doctor wounded soldiers." She nodded, "I'll be right there father." He nodded, kissed her on the forehead and left.
She sighed thinking of the dream, or memory really. It had happened only a month ago. She, being the oldest of four girls, was helping her father in the field when they heard screams and gunshots. They raced to their home finding her mother and three sisters lying dead on the ground, blood pouring from their bodies. Ever since then it has only been her and her father.
Pushing the memory away, she got up, changed into decent clothes and tied her chocolate brown locks back with a black ribbon. She stepped out on her front porch and saw soldiers from both sides lying at her feet.
"Kris," called her father. He got up from a Continental soldier and walked over to her. "I want you caring for Redcoats, AND," he said before she could protest, "Redcoats alone." She sighed and nodded, "yes Father," she said. She grabbed medical supplies she knew she would need and worked her way from worst to less severe.
After hours of hard work, day began to break. Looking out over the horizon she spotted movement…the Green Dragoons. "Father!" she called running over to him. He had already spotted them as well. Thos was why he had her work on Redcoats alone; she did nothing wrong in helping aid the British. He kept her back and walked forward.
The leader of the Green Dragoons, Colonel Tavington, halted his party and looked around. His piercing blue eyes landed on Kris but soon turned to Samual, "You," he said. "You are Samual McAdams, are you not?" Samual nodded, "I am," he said.
Colonel Tavington smirked, "And what is a well known patriot, such as yourself, doing housing both Continental and British soldiers?" he asked. "If a man is wounded, we treat him no matter his nationality," Samual said instantly.
"We?" Tavington inquired. Samual nodded, "My daughter and I," he said. Kris walked up next to her father.
Tavington looked between them, "A woman attending Continental soldiers?" he asked clearly amused. Samual shook his head, "No sir, a woman attending British soldiers. She worked on British as I worked on American."
Tavington looked to her impressed, "And how old are you?" he asked. "Twenty," was her reply. Tavington nodded, "Burn the house," he said. "The barn and any other building as well. Take the horses thought. Kill the rebels and take our soldiers to our hospital." His soldiers nodded and carried out his command.
He aimed his pistol at one soldier but Samual jumped in the way, "Please, don't kill them," he said. "Tavington smirked, "And why not?" he asked. "You can't be that heartless to kill a defenseless soldier," he protested. "They don't call me 'The Butcher' for nothing, now step aside," Tavington ordered. Samual shook his head refusing to move.
"Father, please," Kris pleaded with her father. Tavington smirked, "Listen to her," he said. Once again Samual shook his head, "This is injustice," he said. Tavington was losing his patience, "Very well," he said. He cocked his gun and fired, hitting Samual straight through the heart.
"Father!" Kris cried rushing to his lifeless body. "No," she cried over him. The only member of her family left and he was just killed in front of her. "Please, wake up," she pleaded to him.
Tavington nodded to two Dragoon soldiers who nodded and picked her up. "Get off me," she yelled trying to fight against them. They just held her tight and tied her hands behind her back. Tavington reached down and pulled her onto his horse in front of him. His left arm wrapped around her waist and his right held the reigns.
She struggled against him, "Let me go," she hissed, "You killed my father." She didn't want to be anywhere here near him. He just took the one person she had left away. "Why are you doing this?" she asked.
"First off, he wouldn't move so it is his own fault. Secondly I can trade you off for the life of the militia leader." Tavington said tightening his grasp on her.
Her eyes widened in horror, "No, let me go!" She fought against the rope and against Tavington's arm but nothing worked. "Feisty, aren't we?" Tavington snickered. He spurred his horse into a full gallop and carried his captive and himself to the British Estate.
Kris had long given up her struggle to break free. Even so, she still refused to lean against him. She didn't want anything to do with him. After what seemed like hours they made it to a well lit estate surrounded by a wooden wall. Once she saw the wall, she saw all hope of escaping evaporate.
They halted and Tavington gave orders to his men to return to their camp. Once they headed out Tavington turned the horse and headed to the stables. Just outside of it he got off taking Kris off as well. He untied her wrists, but once he did she kicked him in the groin and raced out.
Tavington groaned in pain but soon recovered. Regaining his senses he raced after her. Being older, stronger, and not to mention faster he caught up with her and tackled her. He held her, pinning her arms to her side. "Oh, no you don't," he said practically dragging her to the mansion.
"Get off of me you filthy brute!" Kris hissed struggling against him once more. Her fight was in vain, though, as Tavington pulled her up two flights of stairs.
She was then pushed into a room that was poorly furnished, which was an understatement. All that was in the room was a cot with a single blanket. A window occupied the far wall, but it was no bigger a window than a nice sized hole in the wall.
Tavington stood in the door way. "This is your quarter. Mine is across the hall. Should you try and break free and run I will know. Food will be brought to you this evening." With that said he closed the door, locked it and left.
She stared at the door for a bit, then started to pace anger flooding through her. She wanted to punch the wall and just when she was about to deliver it she thought better. Having a busted hand wouldn't help her any. She finally collapsed on the 'bed' and cried. Her father was dead, never to return again along with her mother and sisters. She had nothing to life for any longer.
She once again fell into a fitful sleep, plagued by her nightmare of memories along with the new addition of her father's murder. She tossed and turned not having her father to wake her.
-
It seemed like an eternity – but was only several hours – when Colonel Tavington entered his prisoner's chamber with food. She had been awake for a while staring out the window. She turned when she heard him enter. She saw the food but turned back around; she wasn't hungry and she didn't wish talking to him.
Tavington placed down the food and eyes her as he leant against the door frame. He had to admit, she was considerably pretty.
Feeling his eyes on her back she turned around, "May I help you?" she asked curtly. She saw him look at her a bit longer before he responded, "What is your name?" "Excuse me?" she asked. "That is none of your concern." He smirked, "Oh, it is my concern. Now tell me your name."
She stared at him. Maybe if she gave it to him he would leave, "Kris," she said. He eyes her, "Your name is Kris?" he asked skeptical. "Yes," she snapped, "My name is Kris. Kristine McAdams."
"Oh," he said. "So your name is Kristine. Kris is just a nickname," he continued to point out. She rolled her eyes, "If you want to get technical, yes," she said.
He nodded and continued to stare at her. She narrowed her eyes at him. "Do you mind, sir?" she asked. "Actually, I don't," he replied. "I'll be back later to pick up the tray. When I come back I'll be telling you how you will earn your keep as well as your protection." And with that he walked out, leaving a very distraught looking Kris.
She continued to stare at the door once more. What could he mean by 'protection'? Surely no one would try and make advances on her…would they?
She turned to the food, which consisted of broth and bread – luckily not stale - and sat down. She nibbled on the bread, the Colonel's last words ringing in her head.