A/N

Music rec, Mountains of the Moon - Bayou

/

Down countless corridors Erin strode, her head high and her posture confident, but she didn't feel any of that bravado.

Uncas... How much danger was he in? How serious was it? Why hadn't he said a god damn thing to her! There had to be answers, and she was going to find them.

She could faintly hear Cora's voice calling out to her, telling her to wait, but Erin had no time to allow anyone to talk sense into her, and she let anger fuel her steps to quicken her pace.

'Reckless! Foolish! Idiot!' She wasn't one hundred percent sure if her mind was reprimanding Uncas or herself. How had she been so blind to it all?

'He didn't want you to see.' Her mind pushed forward the possible truth and her nostrils flared with a breath of indignant denial.

Erin quickly brushed a stray strand of hair out of her face, and with it batted away the words with a frustrated huff. Why wouldn't he want her to know? Her mind pushed up a cluster of ideas that all crowded to gain her attention, and she brushed them away too... But one lingered just a little longer. It wasn't a kind thought, it was a selfish one, and Erin felt her stomach flip unpleasantly.

'If he's sick, he could come back, he could... I could... we could...'

No, that was a self-absorbed train of thought, and she felt deep discomfort by just how thrilled it had briefly made her feel. That thought was a worm burrowing into the flesh of a sweet apple, working to turn everything rotten, because it was not truly based upon what was best for Uncas, or what he needed. It had been driven by her own wants. Erin let out another frustrated sigh and ran her teeth across her bottom lip as she allowed her mind to adjust and try and become logical. She didn't know what the truth of Cora's worries were or if they even had any merit. She reminded herself that people must be injured all the time in this period and not every single one perished, surely? Just because the knife had been unclean didn't mean a certain death sentence, did it? Erin was no medical expert and so she had to try and remain objective, not run off down roads of panic and instant conclusions.

There was only one solution, and that was to confront Uncas directly. Now bolstered by equal amounts of frustration at him, Cora, and herself, she marched onwards with that goal.

Erin emerged into the bright sunlight and saw Nathaniel, Uncas and Chingachgook already awaited her, muskets on their backs, belts and pouches restocked. The mule was currently employed with carrying the large sacks the men would have normally worn slung around their middles.

She stilled a moment, watching him, knowing she had not yet been seen. Uncas was talking to his brother, laughing, and he looked... perfectly fine. He didn't look sick or ill in any way. He looked like... Uncas. Erin felt her assertiveness loosen and, knowing she didn't have time for this doubt, allowed a flood of heat to pulse through her body as her mind resolutely reminded her, even if he wasn't about to drop dead on the spot, he had been untruthful, and she felt renewed outrage fuelled by hurt and anxiety.

Erin saw Alice awaited nearby, ready to say her farewells, and she was the first to take notice of Erin's presence, drawing everyone else's attention to her arrival. Erin fortified herself, eyes seeking and finding Uncas again like a laser target, she made to walk forwards but suddenly Cora caught hold of her arm before she could take another step, making her start in surprise.

"Do not be angry with him. I'm sure he had his reasons to not tell you," Cora said out of breath from the chase, her face a little ashen. "If he seemed fine last night, I am probably thinking far too deeply about it."

Erin gave a grump of semi-agreement before politely shaking Cora off and striding forward. All eyes came to her as she made her way across the parade ground, her gaze once again set upon Uncas. He gave a small smile at the sight of her, dark eyes dancing with the secrets between them, but then he read her expression and his face fell into a look of slight concern.

Erin quickly realized she was frowning and looking to all around her like a thundercloud ready to rain on everyone's fun. Not wanting to accuse Uncas of anything in front of everyone, she pulled herself up, straightening her posture, smoothing her outward displeasure, and gave a sudden strained smile towards Chingachgook, then an awkward wave of greeting that the elder looked a little startled by. Erin assumed she looked rather manic.

She couldn't meet Uncas' eyes as she approached him, so she glanced about her as if admiring the sky. "So, when the hell were you going to tell me?" Erin whispered, when she reached close enough for only him to hear, the words said through gritted teeth.

Uncas glanced at his father and then back, and Erin could tell from the sudden tenseness of his body language that he feared her speaking anymore in that moment.

"What?" he asked, his face now resolved to be as unchanging as possible.

Erin resisted the very cruel urge to poke him in the area of his wound in sheer anger, and resorted to a little jerky point in the direction instead, her lips a tight line and eyes wide.

For a very brief moment Uncas' eyes betrayed him, losing just a little of their normal warmth and she saw a muscle in his jaw subtly tighten. Before she could react further he'd wrapped an arm around her shoulders and gently guided her away from the group of people, calling over to his father in his own tongue that he needed a moment. Erin shot him a displeased look but he returned it with one that sternly demanded she do what he silently asked.

They walked a few paces, looking externally calm as if discussing what a fine and bonny day it was, but his grip on her shoulder was tight, perhaps a little too tight. As they rounded a corner Uncas caught her forearm and jerked her unceremoniously into the shade of wooden porch overhang, hiding them from prying eyes. The abrupt movement proved too much for the silken ribbon at Erin's chin and her hat loosened and fell to the dusty ground.

"Who told you this?" His voice was fretful and startled Erin for a moment because it suddenly sounded so unlike him.

"Cora suspected it," Erin said, pulling herself from his tight grip and folding her arms over her chest in her usual stance of defence. "Is it true? Was the blade... poisoned?"

He glanced at her, then quickly away, and Erin knew it was.

"Were you ever going to tell me?" she said, her worry battling with her anger for a moment before one side won an easy victory.

Her hands came to press against his cheeks and then his forehead as she fussed, eyes darting, panic trying to overwhelm.

"Are you hot? Does it hurt? Do you have a fever?" His skin was indeed warm, but not burning or clammy, and he jerked away from her concern. His hands wrapped around her wrists, restraining any further attempts, and Erin was reminded of their intimate meeting last night, how he'd bound her with his sheer will, how gentle he had been, just as he was now. It was a stark and unpleasant contrast to their current situation and left her with an acidic taste.

"I was not going to tell you. There seemed little point."

"Little point?!" Erin was incredulous, anger threatening again. "How bad is it?"

He smiled and shook his head. "Not bad. Not good." He spoke in his own tongue, making her guess at his direct meaning.

She pulled herself a little too forcefully out of his grasp, making her stumble back a step. "What the hell kind of an answer is that?"

"No answer." He lifted his shoulders with a careless ease that made Erin suddenly feel as if the insides of her stomach had turned to jelly.

"Look, I don't understand. Stop being so damn cryptic and tell me straight, are you going to be okay?"

He smiled again, his eyes finding hers, then the sky. He watched a few swooping birds dip around each other a moment, eyes squinting to gain a better look. "Yes," he said confidently. "If the wind wills an end," he added once again in his own language, the use of slang and casual terms shifting in her brain to make no sense at all.

Erin brushed a stray hair out of her face with a frustrated hand. "That's still being cryptic!"

He sighed and gave her a sidelong glance that reminded Erin very much of the irritated looks he had passed her way several times on their journey to Fort William Henry. "I can't give you what I don't know," he said softly, his eyes finding hers and holding them. "I am no fool. I know what a wound like this may mean. I have seen men die from such wounds, death takes them fast sometimes, slowly for others..."

Erin's gaze widened and she knew from his own sudden uneasy expression that her eyes were threatening with a hint of oncoming tears.

"And I have seen men live after such wounds. It is not in my knowledge to tell you what will be. I can only tell you what I want and what I think."

Erin couldn't help it and the tears slipped down her cheeks. She gasped at the sudden hot emotion. "Do you fear the worst... is that why you asked me to come to you last night... is that why you wouldn't-"

"No, no." He frowned, concern sweeping across his handsome features, and his hands came to her face, cradling her cheeks with a sudden and intense tenderness. "I did not mean to frighten you, Mouse." He hushed her in his own words, with a gentle pressure of his thumb pad across her bottom lip. The use of such a familiar and endearing nickname stilled her panic with just how comforting and familiar it felt to be soothed by him. He wiped at her tears with a compassionate hand until she was somewhat composed once more.

"I asked you to come to me last night because I wanted you, because it could be the last night we have together before you return home. My reason was you, only you." His hands slipped to her shoulders, holding her firmly in place with gentle affection. "I am well, there is nothing to fear." He grinned, and he looked untroubled, and so assured that Erin felt the fight ebbing away. "I am not afraid."

"Then... why didn't you tell me any of this?"

He took a moment to consider her words, his eyes drifting back up to the brilliant blue of the sky. "The way we live our lives and see things, it is very different," he said shrewdly. "You cannot see what I see, the way I see things. That is why I did not tell you."

That still all sounded far too cryptic to Erin, but the way he spoke felt like he was distancing them both so much from each other. She felt like this was one of the many reasons they would never work and he was trying to show her that in this moment. How could they even begin to think of being in each other's worlds when they couldn't truly understand them?

"Faith and knowledge are not the same," he continued, and smiled again, soft and sweet. "What could this knowledge being spoken do for you or I, other than cause worry? What is, will be," he finished, his dark eyes upon her again, thumb grazing her cheek in tender intimacy, fingers smoothing hair and grazing ears in a touch that left a fleeting warm pleasurable shiver in its wake.

Erin shied away from the contact, knowing it would be far too easy to allow him to continue and ease all her confusion away with soft caresses. Just what exactly was he trying to tell her? Her mind snidely threw back the idea that the truth was he really did see them as oceans apart. She felt incompetent and hopeless in his world, unable to understand even basic things, basic survival. She'd already proved those points more than once with her words and actions. It made sense that the last thing he'd want now was someone he'd have to teach from the very groundwork of life like she was some hopeless child.

"I could have helped, I could have-" she protested.

He laughed, and it sounded just a little cynical to her ears after that unwelcome path of thought, but he was smiling at her, touched by her concern. He shook his head. "Time," he said, with a sharp logical gleam to his eyes. "Time is the only one that knows this story."

"Well..." Erin hesitated, floundering, and feeling so unsure of any of the potential ideas that had recently buzzed within her mind. She scrabbled a moment, determined to find her own grip back upon the situation. "What do you think then?"

He cocked an eyebrow at her in question.

"You said you could only tell me what you want and what you think, so tell me those things."

He smirked as if she had caught him doing something rather mischievous and let out a little laugh, giving her a sideways look that commended her, for what, she wasn't really sure. His hand came to rest upon her shoulder and he jostled her gently, the actions clearly stating he wanted to shake all the seriousness out of the situation.

His other hand came to her chin, making her look up at him, eyes meeting. "I want to be well. I think I will be well. I have no signs that it will be any different. No pain, no heat, no fever, no sickness, no bad smell. I am healing." He gave her another small smile, his eyes glinting with a playful light, seemingly quite entertained by this whole turn of events.

Erin felt the humour curling off him and for some reason she couldn't truly explain, she wanted to wipe that smirk right off his smug face. He seemed to have no understanding of how afraid she'd been, how concerned Cora was, how serious this had felt! In fact, he was acting far too flippant and it riled her annoyance once more. She placed her hands upon her hips, knowing the words that would disarm him in that moment and fully intending to use them to her advantage.

"Does your father know?"

He narrowed his eyes, suddenly all humour abandoned, astute sternness now in its place. She'd caught him, she didn't really know exactly how or why, but she had.

She narrowed her eyes right back at him, matching his own stubborn look. "Nathaniel? What if you become sick and we are too far from the Fort, or anywhere, to get you medicine or help?" Erin continued, giving him no leniency.

The corner of his mouth twitched, not quite forming a true smile, but he'd regained some of his calmness. "I will not become sick, and you must not tell my father any of this." It was a cool demand, not a request.

Erin stared at him a moment, baffled, and trying to weigh what he wished against her own moral judgments. It felt wrong to keep such secrets, but hadn't he just said the way they did and saw things was different? Maybe this was one of those things? She tried very hard to understand his perspective, trying to see things his way, but she found she couldn't truly make any sense of this without an explanation. "Why?" she asked in a whisper.

He shook his head with a frustrated sigh, clearly growing a little impatient with all this talk.

"Why not tell your father? You have to explain that to me at the very least. I deserve that much." Erin pushed, determined not to back down, despite her words holding hardly any authority.

Uncas sighed again, his eyes returning to their normal bright keen warmth. His thumb brushed her cheek and his eyes studied her for a long moment before he began to speak. "My father worries about everything, because... I am his son. I had no mother when I was a boy, so my father took on the worry of two people. I have far too many memories of..." He hesitated and glanced at her.

Erin gave an encouraging raise of her brow that he should continue.

"Feeling like... sometimes I can't breathe." His eyes found hers again, the depths asking if she understood.

Erin gave a small nod.

"He wants so much for me that it sometimes becomes hard to see where he ends and I begin." He paused again, asking the same silent question, and again Erin nodded. "He is not as... worried since I became a man. I proved I can see to my own life, but still I feel he is waiting, to tell me I am wrong or I will fail. That I can't make my own choices."

Erin cocked her head, trying to discern all the complex meaning behind his words and knowing they didn't have the time to go into any of this much further.

"He loves you," Erin said softly.

Uncas nodded, but his eyes wouldn't meet hers. "He always thinks he knows what is best, but my choices should be my own..." His words faded as if he had lost his train of thought and Erin reached out, offering him comfort and understanding, her hand curling around his upper arm and pulling his gaze back to her.

"Yes, I agree and I do understand. What is it you think will happen if he knows about the blade being..." Erin found she couldn't finish this time, but she didn't really need to say more.

"He will insist we go to the nearest village of our allies. That is days away, many days travel. You could not come with us, it is too far, too hard. He will want me to sit in a sweat hut for more days, until he deems I am well again, whether I am sick or not. I know I do not need this. I just need time and good food, maybe some rest..." He glanced down at her, his hand reaching out to caress her cheek softly, dark eyes teasing her in amiable mirth. "Maybe a gentle hand." Erin allowed the tender contact, closing her eyes briefly and leaning into his touch.

"I can understand his worry, Uncas..." Erin caught hold of his hand, bringing his attention back to her face so he could see her sincerity. "You said yourself, you don't know... maybe your father is right, maybe that is the best thing to do, to be sure you are okay?"

Uncas was shaking his head before she had finished speaking. "I don't like being enclosed. It would make me sick, this I know." He took in a deep, slow breath, his eyes going beyond the fort walls to the distant line of woodland. "The trees, the forest is my healing. Not some old man chanting with smoke." He smiled, and he looked as carefree as those birds still swooping somewhere far above them. "Besides, you told me, you have to go home soon, remember?"

"Not at the sake of your wellbeing!" Erin was aghast at the merest hint of that implication.

Again he shook his head, dismissing her words altogether. "You would be left here alone, until I returned, weeks, months..." He glanced down at her, the merest ghost of a smile upon his lips. "Wasted time."

Erin shifted upon the balls of her feet. "It isn't wasted time if it means you won't get sick! I would wait-" she began, but he cut her off.

"I am well," he said, and pulled her gently to him, suddenly capturing her lips with his own, stunning any remaining fight in her body, and pushing the worry from her mind. Her hands came up to rest against his chest. Her first impulse was to push him away because they hadn't finished this conversation, but she found she didn't want to, she wanted anything he was willing to give. This time the kiss wasn't an apology, it was a sweet demand that she hear him and listen, warm and soft, tasting of sharp sweet and bitter herbs, which reminded Erin faintly of green tea mixed with a spoonful of honey. He urged her closer, pressing her into his body as the kiss deepened, leaving her feeling a little lightheaded.

When he pulled back a smile was softly gracing his lips, and Erin took the chance to grab back her senses, her mouth and lips tingling from the contact. He gingerly placed a hand over his side. "It hurts, but I am well. I will be well. I have seen many men survive such things. Let this choice be mine and not my father's. I know there is no cause to worry."

Erin's gaze flicked to each of his eyes, trying to see if he really believed that, she saw only truth gleaming back, and with some reluctance she relaxed, her remaining barriers coming down. "Do you... promise?"

"I promise." He nudged her nose with his own and she couldn't help but laugh at his playful gesture.

"Promise me something else?" Erin said.

"Hmm?" He was currently engrossed in placing warm kisses down her neck and across her collar bone, making it very hard to concentrate.

"If you start to feel sick... you'll tell me?"

He didn't reply, instead nuzzling more attention into her shoulder, which made Erin squirm in ticklish response.

"Yes?" she questioned, finally pushing against him and making him face her, he was still grinning, very pleased with his teasing of her.

"Yes," he agreed. "Come, we must leave before the day gets late."

He pressed his lips to her temple and then his hand found hers, and with an encouraging tug they began to make their way back to the people that awaited them. Erin trotted after him, pausing a moment to scoop up her hat with a quick motion.

"Will you make me another promise?" she asked.

"Another?" he joked, then glanced back at her, a winning grin passing like sun through clouds. "I will."

"Will you see Cora before we leave, for her peace of mind... and mine?"

He nodded. "I will ask one of you." He wasn't looking at her now, eyes upon the figures they walked towards, his family. "Say none of this to my father, he worries too much." He looked over his shoulder, that grin back, light breaking through rain. "I dislike sweat huts."

"Okay," Erin agreed, and trotted a little more to catch up, wrapping her hand around his forearm in an act of casual but hesitant affection, given they were in public.

All she could do in that moment was accept his words. He was an intelligent man, he wouldn't put himself in danger for the sake of a woman he wasn't even willing to ask to live here with him. If he became sick, he would get help. Erin inwardly shook herself and caught his eye as he glanced back at her one last time, an understanding passing between them.

/

A/N

Hello all to those reading.

I'm so happy the last chapter hit the way I hoped for many of you. I cannot promise anything for what will come, but I like to think I am not a cruel writer, but still sometimes we must be cruel to be kind. Ah now I am being cryptic and teasing you ;))

I won't say more as I really want you to experience it as it comes. I really hope you will enjoy it.

Thank you for your kind reviews. They are really a bright light in this very rainy Spring.

Until next time my friends.