A/N: It's been unforgiveably long, and I'm sure people have stopped reading it by now, but another chapter is here, because i still have the idea, and I still love it, and take it out of my drawer every once in a while to admire it. So here it goes. Note that it's been a while since I seen the movie, so if I'm a bit awkward with this at first, please forgive me.
Eliza and her family had been back home for two years now, wondering and worrying about Gabriel. She was now nineteen years old, and was being called on by a young man named Jacob, who her father approved of, but she didn't. But as usual, she would follow her father's wishes.
Jacob was a nice enough man, but he was too plain, and traditional. He was too much like her father, which was most likely why he approved of the match. Eliza was sitting on the porch with her other siblings listening as Thomas read a letter from Gabriel out loud. How she missed her eldest brother, who always stood up for her, and was on her side in conflicts with her father.
That night as she helped serve dinner, Eliza heard her father address an intruder in the house. She looked out the diningroom door and saw her blond haired older brother standing there, wounded. She quickly ran to him as he collapsed against her father. She helped tend to his wound when he was put in bed. She cried, very worried about her brother. It was around that time that she heard the distant sound of battle. She looked out the window frightened, and hoping that the battle wouldn't turn their way.
But of course it did, and soon enough Eliza was able to make out more than just shadows on the field. When the battle noises grew quiet, she helped her father, Thomas, and Samuel bring the wounded in. She cleaned some wounds, but there were injuries she couldn't fix, let alone bear to look at. She got barely any sleep that night, and most of the time she was asleep she only saw the horrid injuries of soldiers.
Early in the morning British soldiers led by a colonel with dark hair and cold blue eyes came to pick up the wounded. For some reason this man scared her more than anything else ever had. She couldn't help but stare into his eyes, but when he glared back at her, she quickly diverted her gaze. He smiled a cold smile, and turned his horse towards her.
But instead of addressing the pretty teen girl, he addressed a major who had arrived before him. "See that our men get taken safely." When the major asked of the rebel wounded, the cold colonel smiled his cold smile. "Kill them. And burn the house. Let it be known that if you shelter the enemy you will lose your home." He then turned his full attention to Eliza. "Such a pretty creature you are. Tell me, what is your name?"
Eliza knew it would be best to just answer the question, and not put up a fuss. "Eliza," she replied just loud enough to be heard. She found herself staring into the electric blue of the colonel's eyes once more, unable to tear away her gaze.
"Such a pretty name." That was when an underling brought the dispatches Gabriel had been carrying when he was wounded. "Who carried these?" Eliza's suspicions that the colonel was not a patient man were confirmed when he asked again, in a louder voice, "Who carried these?"
"I did, Sir." Gabriel came foward, putting on his coat. He went foward, and Eliza knew then that Gabriel's fate was sealed, he was a dead man. Gabriel stopped before the colonel's horce, looking up into his cold eyes.
"Very well. This man is a spy. He will be hanged tomorrow." The colonel made his horse move a bit closer to Eliza as her father began to protest while British soldiers bound Gabriel's hands.
"This is a marked case. This boy is a messenger, you can't hold him!" Benjamin protested, not wanting his son to die at the hands of a tyrant.
"We're not going to hold him, we're going to hang him." The colonel turned again to Eliza. "Eliza, come with me. Since you won't have a home, I can garuntee your safety." He knew full well that Eliza wouldn't want to go with him, but he wasn't giving her a choice. He grabbed her arm and hauled her up on the horse, so that she rode side-saddle in front of him, his arms reaching around her waist to grip the reigns.
"NO!" Eliza looked over to see Thomas running over in a mad attempt to free Gabriel. Before she could do anything, the Colonel that was kidnapping her pulled out a gun and shot Thomas in the back.
"Stupid boy," he said before turning his horse around to trod off. Eliza turned as much as she could, watching the house she grew up in burn to the ground, tears running down her face. "Don't worry my dear, soon you'll have a nicer home then that one." Tavington smirked over Eliza's head as she sat up straight, not wanting to lean against him, and cried. He rode off with his men, taking Benjamin Martin's eldest daughter with him.
It was an hour's ride back to the camp where Eliza was taken. When they arrived, Tavington got off the horse, and helped the girl he had taken off the horse when his feet were on the ground. There weren't many tents set up, but Tavington didn't have a lot of men with him. They would be meeting up with the rest of the unit the next day.
Tavington looked at the pretty girl he had taken. He was a British officer, and the people he had taken the girl from were colonist rebels, so he felt no guilt in kidnapping her. He didn't sugarcoat what he had done in his mind, he had kidnapped the girl, and there was no getting around that.
Eliza's eyes still had tears in them, and they were rimmed with red from her crying almost the whole hour on the ride to the camp. She didn't look at the Colonel who had taken her, choosing to stare at the grass to her right instead. She messed with the sleeve of her dress near the cuff, a nervous habit she had developed at age ten.
Tavington smiled a side-ways smile, his eyes shining as he offered Eliza his arm. "Come, we'll get some tea." He was glad that Eliza chose not to be difficult and actually took his arm. He led her into the main tent, and directed her over to a wooden chair, where she sat. He poured two cups of tea and brought them over to the small wood table that was located at the left side of the tent. "Would you like cream and sugar?" While his tactics were brutal, he was still an English gentleman.
"Yes please." Eliza looked at the table, hoping Thomas had lived, but getting the feeling that he was gone. She looked down into the amber liquid that was her tea. She realized that she had been asked how much sugar she wanted. "Two cubes please." She watched as the Colonel who had kidnapped her dropped two cubes of sugar into her tea. She poured some cream in herself and mixed it all together. She had just taken her first sip when a young Private came rushing in.
"Colonel Tavington sir! The wagon's that carried the spy you arrested earlier was attacked! Only one man made it back alive!" The Private looked over at Eliza feeling somewhat confused. He was even more confused by the smile that played on her lips. He looked back up at Tavington as the man jumped up from his chair, nearly spilling his tea.
"What?! Take me to the man!" Tavington rushed out of the tent. When Eliza didn't follow he went back for her. "You'll be staying with me at all times Eliza. You wouldn't want to get lost here." There was a slight threatening tone in Tavington's voice as he spoke, but he was very impatient, and extremely upset. He went into the tent where the wounded man was, barely patched up.
Eliza followed closely behind. Her hand jumped to her mouth when she saw the man's wounds. He had been cut in several placed, and it appeared he had been shot in the shoulder. She took a step behind the Colonel, not wanting to see the injured man.
"What happened?" Tavington asked the wounded man. When the Private started to answer Tavington looked over his shoulder at the man. "Were you there? Then let him speak!" Tavington looked over at the wounded man, his cold eyes shining.
"We were attacked. The rest of the men were all killed." The soldier was obviously very weak, and struggling to speak. When he was asked how many men attacked, the soldier had to think a bit. "I don't know. Maybe one."
"One? How could you fail to take down just one man?" Tavington was very annoyed. There couldn't have been just one man. From the sound of the soldier, there had to be at least six men to do such damage.
"Whoever it was, one minute they were one place, the next they were somewhere else." The man coughed a bit.
"Sounds more like a ghost to me." Tavington gave an annoyed sort of half smile.
"Yes, like a ghost." The soldier laid back down flat, unable to keep up, or talk anymore.
Eliza turned around as another soldier came into the tent. Upon closer inspection he looked somewhat familiar. She watched as he whispered something to the soldier who was with them.
"Borden, take a patrol, see if we can catch this ghost before word of his exploits spreads. Who is this?" Tavington turned around seeing the soldier who had come in.
"Sir, this is Captain Wilkins. He was with the loyalist colonial militia. I thought he might be of some use," the soldier said. It was obvious he feared Tavington, it seemed everyone did.
Eliza was surprised. She knew this new Captain. He was five years older than her, and one of her suitors before they moved out to the plantation. She couldn't believe that he had joined the British military. She looked away when Wilkins looked at her, a surprised look on his face. But he quickly turned back to Tavington as the Colonel began to speak.
"Another colonial. Tell me, Captain Wilkins, where do your loyalties lie?" Tavington was annoyed at having another colonial among the ranks. And as if to add insult to injury, he was already an officer. Tavington had begun to think of the colonials as a people seperate from his own native Britain. He thought of them as a nuicance that must be put in it's place.
"To King and Country, Sir." Wilkins didn't need to think about it.
"Why should I trust a man who betrays his neighbors?"
"Well those neighbors of mine who stand against England deserve to die a traitor's death." Wilkins glanced back over at Eliza, not knowing what had happened to her brother, Thomas. He was slightly surprised by the hurt look in her eyes.
"We'll see." Tavington turned to Eliza. "Come along, Eliza." He ducked out of the tent, walking out at a fast pace. Eliza had to jog a few steps to catch up with him. Tavington lead her back to his tent where there was another cot set up for her. He had noticed Wilkins looking at his prize, and knew that they must have been formerly acquanted. No matter, she was his now, and so she would always be.