I do not own The Last of the Mohicans.

I do still love them so. And this fandom.

Into the Wild

And Onward


"What shall you name him, Cora?"

Cora Louise, nee, Munroe, sits upon a blanket among the autumn leaves of fall.

"George, after our father."

Newborn son owl-eyed in her arms.

"George Nathaniel."

And Alice, beside her, smiles.

Leans over to the child.

"Hello, George Nathaniel. I am your Auntie Alice!"

And the baby . . .

"Oh my."

. . . unsentimentally deposits something . . .

"Would you like me to take him?"

. . . into his swaddling cloth.

"Yes, well, if you are of a mind to offer. Thank you."


The fall is moving on, with or without their leave.

If the Mohicans are to make the Delaware village before winter, they must travel again soon.

And yet . . .

"Hè, Nuwiti."

Hello, Little One.

"Ntëlkikwi këmuxumës."

I am your grandfather.

"Èlahpiàn yukwe yushè ènta xkwithakamika ònkùntëwakàn Kishelëmùkònk."

Your presence upon this earth is a blessing from the Creator and Maker of All Life.

. . . they abide still.

The cool standoffishness of the English gentleman is nowhere to be found within the circle of family Alice finds herself in the midst of.

It does not quite surprise her so, given the warmth and kindness exhibited by the Mohican men she has come to know and love.

They all, women and men alike, dote upon the child.

Hardly ever is he left to his own devices.

Hardly ever is he not cradled in loving, protective arms.

"May I see him?"

"I am not yet done."

"He is my child, Alice-"

"I am aware, Cora-"


Near two weeks it has been since the birth of the child and the leaves are turning ever more bright oranges and yellows and reds.

The air cooling, autumn well under way.

The men notice. Speak not.

Allowing the women their time.

And taking their own.

Still . . .


"It will be time soon to travel once more if you are still of a mind to make the winter village this year. I would not have you caught on the road in disagreeable weather."

She had, despite the misgivings of her sister, been up and preparing food for the evening meal.

Alice, minding the sleeping George Nathaniel.

Remembering now after having forgotten since the previous winter months how much newborn babes sleep when they are not eating.

And now . . .

"Pardon?"

. . . she has been taken aback suddenly by her very own sister.

Who speaks again.

Plainly.

"Alice, you must leave soon."

And without preamble.

Alice's mouth opens and closes over and over again.

Much like the fish in the river.

Or in the underground cavern.

She does strive to find her voice aloud.

"I . . . I . . . I would not leave you, Cora. You have just had a baby."

Cora's smile is gentle.

"Yes, my darling sister. I have."

Loving as she responds.

"And you have been such a blessing to me in my need."

Head tilting fondly to the side.

"But I am improving now. I grow stronger every day."

Alice tries to respond. Can think of nothing.

I am being sent away?

And her older sister continues.

"Chingachgook and Uncas will wish to leave soon to make the village before winter. I would have you leave too so that you will be with them."

And Alice, aimlessly fiddling with the child's wrappings, tries to think.

"They have told you this? They have spoken of it?"

Cora shakes her head then.

"No, dear Alice, no, of course not."

Expression kind and reassuring.

"But I have traveled with them, on this very journey, only last year."

She smiles.

"I know the time is coming to travel with haste."

And continues to work, at ease and without the apparent anxiety Alice is now consumed by.

"And I know they will wish to leave soon to make the village by winter."

Alice, who does not respond to all.

Feeling somewhat anxious and more perturbed the entire evolution of this conversation.

"I could stay here with you. Sleep on the floor. Help care for the child. You have need of me."

At this, Cora stills her work.

And Alice, concentrated on her sleeping nephew, can feel her sister's gaze atop her bent head.

Moments pass and neither of them relent to speak.

Finally . . .

"Yes. You could. I would welcome it if that is what you want. Nathaniel as well."

. . . Cora comes 'round to sit beside her.

And place a calming hand upon Alice's trembling one.

"But would you stay here? Without him? Without the one you love?"

Alice's jaw clenches, does not respond.

"You did last year. Do you wish it again?"

Does not meet her sister's gaze.

Only . . .

"No."

. . . shakes her head.

"Then you must go, Alice."

And studies her hands.

"But I do not wish to leave you!"

Before suddenly throwing her arms around her sister's neck and burying her face in her shoulder.

She is overreacting. She knows it.

The previous winter had been difficult to watch them depart.

Her heart had swelled and ached and pained in her chest.

And yet she had felt a sense of peace about it.

She had chosen it, welcomed it . . .

When next I see them, I will be different. I will be grown and who I wish to be.

. . . as part of the adventure of her life.

But now there is also the matter. . .

"But the baby-"

. . . of the child.

New and fresh and Cora just birthed, surely she cannot raise him alone, with naught but a man to help her-

"He will be here-"

-and the foolish Cora is behaving as those all things are for certain-

"You cannot know that! You cannot know that he will be here or you or Nathaniel! You cannot know any of it!"

And tears are coursing down Alice's face.

And she is in an agony now of emotional upset.

And Cora, as always . . .

"No. You are right. I cannot know it."

. . . is the stronger of the two.

"But I believe it."

She raises her sister's head with a gentle touch, Cora does, and Alice does not protest.

Only looks into her eyes.

Cora has always taken care of her when she was present and able.

"Alice, . . ."

And Alice feels she is doing so again now.

". . . you may stay if you are of a mind to."

And Alice feels she should be vexed by the child-like care she, a grown woman of the wood, is receiving.

"I will welcome you by my side."

But she cannot.

"I will joy to be with you."

She can only feel gratitude and more than a little fear at the notion . . .

"But your Wètuxëmùksit and Uncas will be leaving soon."

. . . of moving onward . . .

"And I know deep within you, you wish to go with them."

. . . from that which she had known.

And Alice . . .

"Consider it tonight. Sleep here with me and George. And make your decision in the morning."

. . . can think of no more argument to this.

"Alright."

And so she does not.


Yup. I lied. There is one more chapter in the story arc.

But every time I tried to edit it down, it just got longer.

Annnnd, some of you guests without accounts needed the absolute joy of BrynnaRaven's hilarious brilliance she sent to me in a message.

Here it is:

So my uncle (who is loaded unlike the rest of us peasants and is prone to these ridiculous rich man trips) took my husband and father and other uncles hunting on a private reserve in Ohio. It was very nice of him to pay for all this and it's a very nice place, but this is not the type of hunting my family does, historically. Husband just told me they drive you down to the area where the hunting blinds are on a golf cart and I had to giggle. Yes. A. Fucking. Golf. Cart. I suddenly imagine Nathaniel, puzzled, like "Wait...what?" And then my brain commences to imagine "Last of the Mohicans: The Briarwood Edition":

*Cue "Elk Hunt" from original film soundtrack*

*camera pans across a dense wood where a flash of white is streaking across the screen between the trees and yelling can be heard. Camera zooms in on three archaically clad men in a golf cart.*

Chingachgook: "Jesus Christ, Nathaniel, you drive like a bat out of hell! Slow down!"

Uncas: "Yeah man, slow down, I almost lost my musket back there!"

Nathaniel: "HANG ON, I SEE THE ELK!"

*stomps gas pedal * BUMP *golf cart sails off embankment*

"AAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!"

*end scene*

Okay, suriously (purposefully misspelled), I almost died with laughter reading this message. Water out of my nose and everything!

So since I can't beat that today or ever, I will simply say my thanks.

Thanks to DinahRay, BrynnaRaven, MohawkWoman, MedicineGal815, AsterLaurel, ELY72, Grammar Guest (thanks, fixed it, *smiles*), and blanparbe (you brighten up my day and yes yes yes to everything you said) for so graciously reviewing!

Next chapter ends the arc this time, I promise!

I almost promise.

Bye!