A/N: Hey all, sorry it's been a few months since I updated the story. The Muse has been misbehaving and work has been trying to take over my life. But I have put the Muse back in it's place and work has been beaten back. At least for the time being. I do plan on one more chapter to this, or at least an epilogue. I haven't decided yet, but I do have a few ideas rolling around in my head. Any how, read, enjoy, review! :)

The cool dawn gave way to an almost unbearable heat. Alice couldn't remember the last time she had been so uncomfortably hot. Was it a week ago, back at the fort? Or was it a decade ago when she had taken ill with fever? It all blurred in her mind. Even the previous night, in the storm, felt unreal. She wondered if Uncas coming for her was real. If only they could stop for a moment, she needed to think. But Nathaniel kept the small party moving, stopping only to refill water skins when Chingachgook insisted. Cora had questioned the decision, but Nathaniel had reasoned that even with Magua dead, what few followers he had that survived could very well make for more trouble. The more distance covered in the next day or two was important he had said. Cora had reluctantly agreed to that, and kept a close eye on Alice. But she needed to stop, to think, to stop thinking.

Alice lagged behind. It felt like every part of her ached with every step. If it hadn't been for Uncas' watchful eye and hand, she might have lagged and simply drifted away. She could vaguely hear her sister arguing softly with Nathaniel, and saw her glance backward. Alice stared back at Cora, seeing her and not seeing her. Cora turned back to Nathaniel, but the usual silence descended back to the small group. It wasn't until when they stopped at nightfall when they stopped that Cora's argument with Nathaniel resumed. Alice huddled against a tree, with Uncas not far away, staring off at nothing when hearing her name made her look up and over at her sister.

"Alice should go back to London. Or at least Albany. I've already told Uncas as much."

Alice saw Natheniel start to reply, but she cut him off. "And do what exactly Cora? Go back to having tea and dinner parties? Tell people what a lovely time I had in the middle of a war, as if we had only gone on holiday to Bath? Or do you think the truth will do in polite company?"

She hadn't meant to sound so rude, but she was so tired. Tired of being treated as if she were a child, as if she were ignorant. Tired of the war. Tired of everything. Cora turned to her, her eyes wide in astonishment at Alice's interruption.

"Alice, I only meant-"

"You only meant the best. I know. You always mean for the best Cora," Alice interrupted. "Even if it means treating me like an ignorant child. And in any case, what is there to go back to? Our father is dead, Duncan is dead, and if you stay here, you may as well be dead for all people at home will care. Even the most understanding among them would rather you were dead. And I should be."

It was such a bleak and unexpected statement from Alice, that Cora had been silenced. Cora frowned slightly, taking in the change in her younger sister. There was a depth to her hazel eyes that Cora hadn't noticed before, as if Alice had aged years in the last few weeks. A few weeks ago, Alice had been just beyond girlhood, still the darling of her father. Now she could see that Alice was a woman, forced to face the harsh realities that life could offer much too quickly.

"Your sister is right. No one in your proper English society would understand. And you are the only family she has left Cora." Nathaniel's defense of Alice's outburst had surprised even himself. He and Cora had both told Uncas to not make her any promises that he couldn't keep, but it wasn't fair to him or to Alice to not make the same demands of himself and Cora. Cora only felt exasperated and threw her hands up in frustration. She knew Nathaniel was right; she knew her sister was right. If she were to be honest with herself, much as she thought Alice should go back, she wanted Alice close to her just as much. Cora drew in a long, deep breath. Alice expected her sister to argue the point. But her sister's response was more baffling than Nathaniel's defense. Cora tilted her head at her sister, smiled, and held out her hand to Alice.

"It would seem that I've been bested by you Alice. I do always intend for the best, but perhaps I have been wrong in this. I want you settled is all, all things considered," she said. Cora turned her attention to Uncas, who had been silent and at Alice's side, as was usual. "But I did mean it last night Uncas. The first promise to her you break, so help me God, it will be the last thing you ever do."

Alice snorted, but smiled. Though only four years her senior, Cora had been everything to Alice when they were children—mother, father, sister, protector. Now as women, nothing had changed. Only that now she saw Cora's willingness to send her back to English society had been a willingness born of fear for her well being.

Uncas nodded. He understood the intent in Cora's words. He would have said much the same thing in regards to Nathaniel. He glanced over at Chingachgook, who had kept himself out of the discussion, probably on purpose. Chingachgook locked eyes with his son, and ever so slightly, nodded. While he may have preferred his son take a Delaware girl as a wife, he saw that the younger Munro sister was better suited to him. Chingachgook had watched his son with her, and had been proud of his son. From what little he knew of the English and their ways, he knew that even they would have difficulty finding a man as attentive to his woman as Uncas was to Alice. It was a good thing to see.

"There will be no promises broken."