Mmkay, here it is, chapter 7. Many thanks to randomchiq700 for suggesting a new name. From now on, To Vie for Supreme Command will be known as (drumroll, please) A Cruel Mistress.
Also, minor warning for language in this chapter. Enjoy! =)

It was dark. The girls had long since retired to their shelters; the soft sound of breathing mingled with the everyday noises of insects and the ocean. Jenny couldn't sleep. She lay on her back in the soft sand, trying to keep her eyes closed. The moon had long since reached its zenith, yet sleep would not come. She resigned from her struggle and stared at the palm branched above her head; if she stayed awake any longer she would be able to make a detailed drawing of it by morning.

With a sigh loud enough to convey her distaste, but soft enough not to wake Margaret, who was sleeping beside her, she got up and poked her head outside. The moon bathed the beach in its pleasant white glow. From where she was, she could just make out a feminine form moving across the beach to the boys' camp. Curious, she hastened silently out of the shanty and watched the girl.

With deft, silent movements, she followed the figure across the shore. Her feet sunk in the sand, she became less cautious. Her mistake came from stepping on a twig. It snapped sharply beneath her feet. There was nowhere for her to hide, so she turned around and huddled into a ball, but not before seeing the girl's face. It was Genevieve.

*

The boys were asleep when Jack saw the shapely silhouette that he recognised immediately as Mary. He gave a low whistle through his teeth, but she didn't hear. He sat in the sand, the ocean's soft waves kissing his feet. Mary sat beside him.

"You came," he said, not incredulously, but as a simple statement of fact.

"Of course,"

"Do you know why you're here?" he asked, his voice low.

A pause, "I think so," she murmured.

He smiled, "Good," A possessive arm snaked its way around her waist. Although she didn't want to, she struggled free, society's mores still ingrained in her thoughts. She imagined what her mother would say.

For the first time, he turned to look at her. She expected him to lash out in fury at her disobedience, but was instead greeted by a wicked grin, "Feisty," he chuckled. She allowed the curve of a smile to show, "But I'll change that,"

At that moment she wasn't sure what she felt. She knew part of it was fear, but there was also admiration, and another emotion she couldn't quite place. Her ears turned pink, and she was glad her hair was down.

The arm returned, this time casually draped over her shoulders, "You know Mary," he began, "For two weeks we've been standing beside each other, beside Ralph," he spat out the name, "But we've never really…spoken. And yet, when I called you, you came," the hand at the end of the arm squeezed her shoulder, "But somehow," the grip tightened, "You feel you have the right to fight against what you knew would happen,"

She was terrified, but more than that, she was furious. "He thinks I'm no better than Clara! 'Come when he calls', fuck!"

Out of the thick silence there came a laugh, not cruel, but merry, tinkling from Jack's mouth, "You believed it!" he gasped out, "You really believed it!" He was pink from mirth.

Her eyes widened, her jaw dropped, and then she smiled, "I guess I did," she said, halfway hurt.

He stopped laughing "Scare you?" he teased.

She frowned, "No," She said, coldly.

He let go of her, "I thought you liked our feasts," he said, sounding childish.

"I did," she said.

"Then why did you leave?" he seemed genuinely hurt. He seemed to have taken it as a personal insult.

"It had nothing to do with you, Jack," she said. She moved a touch closer, "If you were leader I wouldn't have left,"

The mischievous twinkle returned to his eyes, "Is that so?"

"Of course,"

The errant arm once again found its way to her waist, possessive, but this time she didn't fight it. Nor did she fight when she felt the arm turning her to face him, or when she felt his mouth, or when one arm became two.

*

The boys' camp was aglow by the cold light of the moon. It sharpened smooth edges and hardened soft surfaces. Genevieve padded softly towards a crude shelter, Simon's, stopping only once, briefly, at the sight of two bodies tangled in the sand. They didn't notice her, so she continued.

"Simon?" she whispered into the darkness.

Groggy eyed, a figure appeared "What is it?"

"I can't sleep"

He got up, "Come with me,"

Over their time on the island, Genevieve and Simon had become friends. It began with the mutual realization that they were both kind-hearted, and not given to the savagery that seemed to grip the others. At first, it was an unspoken alliance, but the tendrils of friendship began to bind their way around them, and eventually, they recognized the other as a friend. They came to be close, and whenever there was trouble, they sought each other.

By the light of the moon, Simon led Genevieve through the jungle to a quiet clearing. Soft grass quavered in the gentle breeze, and they sat in silence. The tranquility of the glade lulled Genevieve to sleep. For the first time on the island, she was at peace.

*

The morning came too soon. With a dissatisfied grumble, Mary got up. It was bright and warm, the birds were singing and the little'uns were shrieking their joy. As usual, Jenny, Margaret and Genevieve were seated on a log, eating breakfast and laughing.

"Morning," she mumbled to them, motioning heavily for one of them to give her fruit.

Margaret laughed, "Sleep well?" she asked, and tossed her a banana.

She made a face, "I hardly slept at all,"

"Neither did I!" Jenny cried, "Maybe there was something weird going on that kept us awake,"

Mary chuckled, "I doubt that's it," she said.

Their breakfast passed pleasantly. Once they were done, Genevieve steered Mary away from the others.

"I saw you last night," she said.

Mary's heart nearly stopped, "What?"

"Last night, with Jack. I saw you," Mary turned pink, "Hey, don't worry, I won't tell anyone,"

She breathed a sigh of relief, "Oh thank God!"

Genevieve became motherly, "You didn't...do anything else, did you?"

"What? No! Oh God, no!" Mary said with a laugh, "Hey, why were you over there anyway?"

"I couldn't sleep," she said

"So you went to the boys' camp?" she asked, suspiciously.

"I just went to go see Simon is all,"

"Oooh, Vivie and Simon sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g, first comes love-"

"Not like that!" Genevieve cried, mortified.

Mary laughed, "Ok, so what then?"

"Nothing, we were just talking is all," she was unwilling to reveal the glade.

"About what?"

"Nothing,"

"No tell me, what?" Mary was stubborn.

Genevieve sighed, "Just about stuff, I dunno. About the island. I couldn't sleep is all,"

"So you went to Simon?" She sounded accusatory

"Well, yeah. I mean, who else was there? You were obviously busy," She countered accusation with spite.

There was a tense silence, then Mary gave her a friendly shove, and soon they were on the ground, laughing.

*

The girls were happy at their camp. Every day Mary made sure the girls fished or got fruit for the feast, and every night they sat around a fire with plenty of food. As time passed, the girls stopped saying their prayers. It did them no good, they found, to pray when nobody answered.

Every feast ended with a speech from Mary. She would stand atop her log and address them. Usually her speeches were brief, touching upon the same things as Ralph's had - fruit, bowel movements, and the beast. She had begun ending her speeches differently, though.

"...tomorrow I want Catherine and Anne in charge of berries. Can you do that, girls?" they nodded, "Then let's have everyone older than 15 fishing, and everyone younger getting fruit. Sound good?" they nodded, "My will be done!"

"Thy will be done," they chorused

"Now go have fun!" she cried cheerfully, and the camp broke up.

During the day, the jungle echoed with the cries of Jack's hunters. Mary had no false pretences about Jack's lot. She liked him, she respected him, but she knew they were dangerous. Catherine and Anne were younger than the other girls, and she didn't want them going too far into the jungle, where the risk was greater for them getting hurt. She didn't want to admit it, but the girls had really grown on her, and she would hate to see them injured.

As time passed, life on the island grew into a routine. The day began with the sun, when the girls would eat their breakfast of fruit. They lounged on the beach, sometimes going into the water, until noon, when they would be hungry again. The afternoon was spent preparing for the feast; the older girls fished, and the younger ones got fruit. All was done on a paradisiacal backdrop, with the sounds of Jack's hunters mingling with those of the island.

The boys, like the girls, had soon fallen to routine as well. Unfortunately for them, theirs was much less tranquil. The boys had split into two unofficial groups, Jack's hunters, and the others. The hunters spent their days in the jungle, having fiercely violent fun, while the others stayed back at the beach. The only time they were together was at Ralph's meetings, which had become more and more erratic as Mary's became more regular.