Title: Torn
Genre: General
Summary: In the midst of a bloody and snowy battlefield, there was an angel. Naruto/Revolutionary war fic
He met her on the battle field.
Her white petticoat rippled in the wind like a white flag of surrender. Her steps on the snow crunched the fresh powder and cracked through the ice. Her voice was soft and gentle as she called out orders to others in the field; those still able to walk were to carry the wounded. Her form soon came before him. She was glorious, an angel of death he would willingly submit to. Her soft, long pink hair twisted in the wind, escaping from her white bonnet. Her thin lips tilted in a smile as she told him he was still alive. He'd rather go to heaven with her and told her so.
The world seemed to lighten at her laughter, but it could have been that the sun appeared from behind the storm clouds. Everything drifted out of focus for him as he felt all warmth leave his body. There was no regret though. He was dying for a country that had yet to be born, for a freedom that the world had yet to believe possible. There was nothing to regret. His sacrifice was the price for such a worthy cause.
There was also the fact that he was going to be delivered into heaven by the most majestic being he had ever seen in his twenty-eight years of life.
Light, caressing fingertips grazed his face as he began to lose focus on the world of the living. The pressure of the touch increased as if trying to remind him that he was still on earth.
'Brother!' A hectic voice broke through the air, bringing him back to consciousness.
His younger brother hadn't died on the battle field. A weight seemed to be lifted from his chest.
'Itachi!' the voice had dropped into hushed tones; no doubt he had been rebuked by the general. They may have won their first battle, in seven months, but that did not mean there were not more red coats in the area.
"Itachi hmm?" the light, gentle, caressing voice asked.
If he had known this had awaited him on the other side he might have wandered into a bullets path long ago.
He tried to keep his eyes focused on the woman above him. Her green eyes seemed to lighten with mirth upon glancing toward the voice of his brother.
"Your brother called me a pathetic woman last time he was in Stoney Brook…" the woman trailed off, a thoughtful look on her face.
The woman sighed coming back to the present after a moment's hesitation. "But as a member of the Society of Friends I shall n't let you die." Her lips twitch, though, as if she might actually consider the thought. At least her apparel now had some meaning; but even the plain dress looked like saque that an angel might wear. Her commanding attitude had meaning as well; the Society of Friends was known to allow women more rights.
Something his father had rebuked and embedded such thoughts into his younger brother. Of course, that did not mean women were to be disrespected. They would have been brought to their knees if they'd ever called a woman 'pathetic' in front of their father.
"Pick him up and bring him to cabin," the woman's voice had taken an undertone of indifference. He heard boots crunch the grass near him and felt his body grabbed and carried; they had no more satchels to carry the wounded. Pain rippled through his body like a stone dropped in a lake. His vision clouded but he did not cry out. He kept his eyes upon the woman; whose blurry appearance once again resembled an angel.
If by some sheer luck, she managed to save him; and if they ever managed to defeat the mother country before they were hanged for treason; and if the torn country they lived in ever found unity. Then he promised himself; he would find a woman like her. A woman that could wander into a battlefield and make even hell itself look like heaven.
A/n: The truth is George Washington "lost" majority of his battles (he retreated). But he is called a great military tactician because, even though his men were outnumbered, his retreats were well organized (keeping his people alive and getting wounded off the field) and he was able to inflict heavy losses on the British, which was super-power #1 + ( American people who were loyal to British.)
Eventually; with help of the French, other allies and geographical complications of Great Britain's location; the patriots were able to force the British to surrender in the battle of Yorktown, October 17th 1781; this ended the military conflict. In September of 1783 the peace treaty with the Great Britain was signed; and Britain then recognized the States as an independent nation.
Without an outstanding tactician and brave men/women to offer their lives there would be no United States of America. For those of you living in U.S., be grateful for your freedom because there was a price paid for it.
*Society of Friends = Quakers
A tad bit of a tangent but I believe it is very important piece of history. I hoped you enjoyed, Z.z