This is Prompt No. 52-Polka Dots

The night before she was scheduled to leave, Mitchie found herself unable to sleep. She pretended to sleep, knowing that Shane wouldn't sleep unless she did, and then, when she heard his breathing even out, she slipped out from under the covers and made her way to the other room where Shania slept, swathed in a polka dot blanket Caitlyn had presented to her. She debated for a moment on whether or not to disturb her little girl's rest, but then decided that Shania could catch up on it while she was gone.

"Come here, my darling," she whispered as she picked the baby up. Shania opened her eyes and waved her tiny fists, letting out a little cry that was immediately hushed when her mother held her close and began rocking her.

As Mitchie rocked her daughter, she glanced down at her tiny face, soon lulled once again into sleeping, hypnotized by the gentle rhythm of the rocker and the steady beat of her mother's heart. In that moment, Mitchie felt such a strong surge of hurt, of homesickness, and guilt for leaving her child and her husband. She bit her lip as tears welled up in her eyes, forcing her stomach not to heave with sobs for fear that the motion would wake her daughter.

"Why me?" she whispered to Shania, stroking the blanket that framed her face and accentuated the darkness of her hair. The vision of a sweet baby girl and her polka dots would forever be etched in Mitchie's mind after tonight. "Why did it have to be this division?"

The crackling fire snapped, but had no answer for her as Mitchie continued to rock her daughter. Its bright flames cast shadows over the walls, and Mitchie shivered despite the pleasant temperature in the room. The shadows, elongating as the fire began to die down, reminded her of the fears she found mounting inside her heart. "What-ifs" crowded her mind, and a dozen scenarios threatened to make her dizzy.

"What if the queen doesn't like me?" Mitchie asked, talking to no one in particular. No answer came to her, not even from her own heart. Then, from the murky depths of uneasiness, a small, glimmering answer appeared and Mitchie asked herself aloud, "Well, how many people does the queen actually like." She smiled and answered herself. "Not many."

"What if something happens?" her mind whispered.

"I'll deal with it," Mitchie answered aloud, trying to calm herself.

"What if you can't handle it?"

"I'll figure out a way," she hissed at the fire as it snapped again, sparks popping from the wood.

"What if they find out you're a spy?"

Mitchie winced. "I-" she began, but couldn't finish her sentence.

"You know that you'll be put in prison, and perhaps even executed," her mind whispered, answering when Mitchie was afraid to.

"I know," she said impatiently, as though she were actually talking to someone else instead of thinking aloud.

"What if you cannot learn the correct information?"

Mitchie unconsciously began to rock faster and her heart rate sped up. "Then I'll try to find out a different way," she responded.

"How?"

"I don't know!" she said impatiently, and too loudly. Shania awoke, and Mitchie spent the next few minutes devoting her time to her daughter. With effort, she pushed aside all the questions that were haunting her and just focused on the little bundle in her arms.

"How I wish I could take you with me," Mitchie said softly to Shania, tracing the soft little lines of her daughter's face. "Or better yet, just not go at all." She sighed and shifted in her seat. "Life was just starting to settle down, and now it's being stirred up all over again."

"No!" The shout came from the bedroom, and Mitchie's head snapped up at the sound. She winced as it was repeated again, and held Shania closer to her chest. Another effect war had on a person was the dreams that haunted you for years after. Many nights, either Shane or Mitchie would wake up shrieking from some horrid, overly clear battle image from their time spent on the battlefield.

Mitchie knew that Shane would probably come out into the living room, so she stayed where she was, grateful when all noise in the bedroom had stopped. Shane was awake. "Stupid war," she muttered to the fire. "Stupid people who started the war." She closed her eyes for a moment and asked Shania, "Why do people have to fight? Why can't they just discus these kinds of things over a cup of tea or something?" Or course, she knew that the reason was that one or both parties had not wanted to discus matters rationally.

There was a noise, and a sleepy, haggard-looking Shane appeared from the bedroom. He ran a hand over his face and through his hair before saying sleepily, "Hey."

Mitchie ceased her rocking and smiled sadly. "Hey," she said. "Are you okay?"

Shane nodded. "Fine," he told her.

Mitchie knew that he was lying by the strained look he still wore on his face. "Another nightmare?" she asked, hoping that asking general questions would bring about an explanation.

Shane nodded and came to stand closer to the fire, but still further away than Mitchie would have liked. "Yes," he said evasively, not offering any other explanation.

Mitchie glanced up at him in concern. "Who was this one about?"

Shane's hands clenched into fists. "You," he said softly.

"Because of tomorrow," Mitchie guessed, and by Shane's nod, she knew she was correct. "How did I die?" She knew that it seemed to be a strange question, but from her personal experiences, explaining the dream out loud helped to shake off the vividness of the nightmare.

Shane glanced sullenly at her and said, "You didn't."

Mitchie frowned, confused. War dreams always consisted of someone dying, usually brutally. "I don't understand," she told him honestly.

Shane ran his hand through his hair again, but this time, he was agitated. "It wasn't a war dream," he told her softly. "I dreamed about you in Queen Victoria's court."

He paused, so Mitchie helped him along. "And?" she prompted.

"And you fit in so well that you decided to stay there and marry some rich prince of some land," he said, his scowl proof that the dream had been almost as bad as a war dream. "You left me for only a little while and found that you didn't love me as much as you thought you had."

Mitchie's jaw fell open. "Is that what's worrying you?" she asked. "Fear that I will stop loving you? Fear that I'll fall in love while I'm away?"

Shane nodded stiffly. "Yes," he whispered. "I know it's silly, but-"

Mitchie stood and strode to Shania's cradle to lower the baby into it. "Come," she said when she turned around, holding out her hand. With slight hesitancy, Shane took the hand. Mitchie led him over to the fire and motioned for him to sit down. He seated himself on the floor next to the hearth, and Mitchie joined him, sitting so that their knees touched.

"It's time you and I had a little talk," she told him seriously.

A/N: Uh oh! :D Hope you liked it. Please, please review.