A/N
Hello. Welcome to my new story. I wrote this originally in 2020 when the world went a little mad and I had a lot of spare time on my hands to indulge my fanfic fantasies once again. This is the result. This is slightly AU, in that the film does not exist in this story, only a historical account and a fictional novel. So, I suppose imagine this taking place in the movie setting.
I have finished this story, it is complete and will all be published. I am just cleaning it up as best I can before making it public, I'm aiming for a chapter a week, more if I can manage.
Warnings for light swearing, some violence and some scenes of a sexual nature.
I know OC's are not popular in this fandom but as much as I LOVE Alice and Uncas, I did not have another story of just them left in me, so I hope you will enjoy this different take on the tale. If you hate the idea please click away, if not read on, but please be kind. I hope you enjoy.
Let's begin.
/
Erin looked out across the tamed wilderness of the meadow before her.
The tall grasses swayed in the breeze, the rustling reaching her hearing and calming her mind. She took in a deep breath of the sweet, hazy scent of wild flowers that lingered around her. The sound of the tree's gently fluttering leaves left no doubt that she was in nature.
She closed her eyes, savouring the distant call of songbirds as her fingers absently played with the material of her full pink skirts, pondering how heavy they felt against her skin in such warm weather.
"There you are!" An amused voice called from behind her, startling Erin into opening her eyes.
Her gaze settled upon the beautiful form of a woman in a stunning blue 18th Century Georgian silk gown, her hair piled into fashionable, but modest, poof style upon her head, powdered with light blue colored starch.
"I was just here," Erin said, smiling.
"When did you sneak away?"
"I didn't sneak anywhere, Ada. The cannons were just far too loud," Erin said, with a dismissive glance away.
Ada crouched beside her, the blue silken skirts splaying around her like a vast pool. "I see. Not quite what you thought it would be?"
"No, I didn't say that. I'm glad I came."
Ada looked doubtful at her words.
"Really, I'm glad. It just all gets a bit much, the people, the noise, the clothes... it's a lot to take in."
"I understand. It can be a lot the first time you do a full historical re-enactment. But I am happy you came too." She reached out and touched Erin's arm affectionately. "You can take as long as you like. Maybe walk up to the waterfall."
Erin nodded. "I was planning to, it's a fantastic part of the book! I'll come join in the fun once I'm back, it's just taking me some time to adjust to everything. I feel like I'm in a play." She chuckled.
Ada rose, offering out her hand and Erin took it, getting to her feet with a huff as the stays around her torso protested at the new movement.
"I wish I'd been able to get you a better fit in your costume. It's just with everything... your hair clashes with the color too..."
Erin fingered a loose curl of hair absently, knowing it was not perhaps her finest idea to dye it such a vivid shade of red, right before coming to a historically based event. "Honestly it's fine, the color of the dress is fine," Erin reassured, "it's not too tight and I guess I shouldn't have had second helpings of chocolate cake last night at the welcome party."
"It's a whole size too small 'Rin," Ada said, using the childhood nickname she often called her younger friend, which always made Erin smile. She brushed the bits of grass off Erin's skirts as if this could somehow amend the situation.
"Just..." Erin began, but Ada continued her task, muttering about being able to sew it all better later that night.
"Ada, it's fine.." she tried again, trying not to lose her patience as she was prodded and pulled in adjustments.
"Stop fussing for God's sake!" Erin said, pulling the skirts away. "It's fine, it's laced as loose as it will go and I'm fine!" She took in a deep breath, regaining her composure.
Ada's lips widened into a grin, "There she is."
Erin bumped her shoulder, grinning back. "Oh I see, you're just being a pest to get a reaction? Very nice."
"Well, it's just good to see you be yourself after..." Ada paused, thinking better of her words, "everything," she finally said with a shrug.
"After a year of being a full-on-wild-hermit-recluse is what you were actually going to say, right?" Erin crossed her arms, enjoying her teasing.
"Hermit is a little strong," Ada laughed.
"Oh, I see." Erin nodded with an academic air, her finger coming to her lips and brushing a non-existent long moustache as she considered her friends words. "But I am apparently a full-on-wild-recluse!" She lifted an eyebrow in accusation and Ada held out her palms in defence, already knowing what was coming.
"No 'Rin, don't!"
Not giving her a second of mercy, Erin lunged forward, playfully pinching and tickling until they both collapsed on to the grass in a giggling mess.
Erin tried to catch her breath, realizing the mistake of any physical activity in such tight clothing, but the ridiculousness of it all just made her laugh more.
Ada's hand sought hers and they glanced at each other. "I am glad you came." She squeezed softly and Erin smiled, before turning her gaze back to the wondrous blue of the sky.
/
Erin's footfalls were soft and light as she made her way along the wide path. The trees hung overhead, blocking out the harsh warmth of the day and creating dapples of wavering light upon the ground.
A whole week here in this beautiful place was just what she needed. It was true she hadn't really been riding a wave of social gatherings in the last year, mainly staying at home, reading and watching movies. Recluse seemed like the right word.
Erin wasn't sure how long she was meant to take, or what people expected, but in the wake of a break up from the man you thought you'd be with forever, time seemed to have very little meaning.
She'd met him at sixteen, he was older by a good few years (too many, she now realized) and seemed so much wiser. For a while she'd chased her love of art and even had a nice little online store for commissions, a place in a local art shop too by the time she was seventeen, everything had been perfect, until it wasn't.
Sometimes the heart just grew apart from what it loves, and the distance strains like a pulled muscle you can't determine.
At least that was the clean version she told people, in truth he had brow-beaten and berated her into leaving her art behind, telling her how useless it all was, that she would never amount to anything.
Erin had grown to believe it. She had stopped drawing, let her dreams become stagnant, and her social skills non-existent. She couldn't see he was molding hers lowly into what he wanted and Erin lost herself. He liked it when she stayed home, cleaned, and played the good little wife-to-be; and she would have continued to play it, probably having kids, and a life with very little of her in it, if his eye hadn't wandered to others.
Cheating was a deal breaker for Erin, even when everything else was fair game. She supposed it was what had saved her in a way. But it had taken five long years before she had that epiphany and left him.
She hadn't expected the depression afterwards, the smoothing of her personality to a shadow who just passed through life, a zombie with no purpose. In those five years Erin had forgotten who she was. She was left untethered at sea, with nothing to cling to. Friends and family came to her, but she'd pushed them away for so long, allowed him to push them away, that it was hard to let them back in.
Many nights she'd picked up her pencils and tried and tried to draw, but nothing came. Outwardly she'd pretended to have fun while retreating inward, tiny backwards steps into her subconscious until she didn't go out anymore, life became too scary, too unpredictable.
In all that time alone she'd found solace in nostalgia, going back to her favourite books and movies and immersing herself in them fully until all she could do was swim with them. Chief amongst these was Last of the Mohicans, a historical account that was turned into a novel. Full of brave warriors, unflinching battles and heart stopping romance. Reliving it all with the characters made her feel like her blood ran through her veins again, and bit by bit she reached out, first to her parents and then to Ada.
Sweet Ada, who encouraged her to draw again, to find her passion; who encouraged her to come on this week long trip based upon those same historical accounts.
These woods were where the true drama was said to have happened, the vast meadow she had chatted and laughed with Ada was once the place of a homestead attacked by a war party. All lives lived and lost, the bittersweetness of these stories made Erin herself feel alive again.
She heard the rushing of water before she saw it, the white noise of it drowning out the birdsong, until finally the full beauty of the falls came into view. Three waterfalls rushed by, vast plateaus of rock between them.
Erin climbed up a little and stood, allowing herself a long moment to take everything in. She breathed in the cool fresh scent of the water spray and closed her eyes, her mind drifting to all the people who had been here, all the characters she knew by heart so very well.
When she reopened her eyes her gaze caught a sharp silver flash, a spark of light that winked a steady pace from somewhere behind one of the falls.
She furrowed her brow and without thinking walked towards it. Just to the side of the falls was a tiny ledge leading to an overhang of rock, she peered into the dark space and saw the glint again.
Her heart pulled for her to go and discover what this mystery was, and before she'd lingered on it for any sensible amount of time she was sliding on to the ledge sideways, her fingers clinging to hard, wet stone. It was only when she was half way across that it occurred to her just how stupid she was being, no one was around, and although the fall to the ground below wasn't too far, she could still hurt herself.
"Well, should have thought of that," she grumbled to herself, and took another step. Finally the ledge widened and she stepped into a small cave, it was dark and damp and her eyes took a long moment to adjust. Her hand went for reassurance to her phone, still nestled deep in her skirt pocket along with an empty and unused little sketchpad Ada had gifted her with and a packet of gummy candy in case she got hungry on her adventure.
Then she saw it, just a gleam of light glittering up from the wet stone, something was submerged in a shallow puddle, the spray of the falls rippling the water and fracturing any light into sharp little sparks that ignited shafts of multi-colored flashes.
Erin walked carefully forward, the rock was slippery and she could feel it trying to betray her steps. She bent, carefully and reached towards the water.
As her fingertips entered the icy liquid she heard, no, felt, a sudden thumping, or was it a drumming?
She couldn't quite understand if it was her own heartbeat or an outside force. She wanted to look around her, knowing the space was too small to conceal anything that would make that constant rhythmic noise, but her hand, her whole body, was fixed in place.
Her fingers searching, reaching, wanting, and then she brushed something cold, colder than the water, colder than ice and she wanted to pull back - for a horrifying realization came over her that it wasn't cold she felt but burning hot fire, scorching through her fingers, burning her flesh. But there she crouched, unable to move, unable to pull away, only small sounds of pain escaping her lips in the stillness of that tiny little cave.
Against her will her fingers closed around the metal object and her mind hazily flashed that it felt like a chain, a pendant or amulet... it felt like hell. A scream broke the silence, a long wail of lament and anguish and it took her a moment to understand it was all coming from her own throat - the sounds pushing past her own lips, and she willed herself to drop this accursed thing, but her hand would not obey, and only held on all the tighter.
The beat was getting louder in her ears, and black spots began to dance in her vision. She was going to pass out, she knew, and the steady snake of the burn was slithering up her arm, reaching out tendrils of pain towards her body. With a last pull, of effort she didn't think she even had, Erin fought and she focused upon her screams, using them as a crutch to push past the pain, her mind reaching, straining to break this bond.
She gritted her teeth and pulled with all she was, and like a taught string breaking, it released her with what seemed like an audible snap to her hearing. And she was free, but falling now, falling backwards, the momentum that had held her in place rebounding as gravity took hold, and she fell into the waterfall, over the edge and towards the ground below.