Erin felt stifled inside the warren of wooden corridors, and so she made her way to the large open space outside, where it seemed most of the Fort's inhabitants now sat around. It appeared there had been a respite in attack from the French. The quickly darkening skies were quiet and people were making the best of the situation, taking a moment to eat, chat, and allowing a short time for some normalcy back into their lives.

Erin knew she'd have to go back soon, find Alice and apologize, tell her it was a moment of terror induced madness and she hadn't meant a single thing she'd said. She'd gone about the whole thing all wrong and now it was a mess she'd have to clean up. Erin was acutely aware she had done her usual distasteful habit of over dramatizing the situation when she felt angry and baited, a trait Ada hated just as much as Alice now would.

All Erin wanted to do was change things so these two people would have the same chance as Nathaniel and Cora. What they did with that chance was up to them, but Erin wanted them to have it so badly she'd become ridiculously flustered.

'You win the prize for the most asinine words ever spoken out loud! Hurray for you!' Her mind cheered, and she grimaced, knowing she deserved every bit of her self reproach.

She wandered across the muddy ground, careful to pick up her skirts and walk along the wooden boards laid out for access. So many people sat huddled together, weary looking men with various minor injuries, anxious women clutching babes and young children to their breast, Mohawks hunched around a fire smoking pipes.

Erin's self pity waned at the sight of all the miserable and anxious faces before her and she felt that same sinking in her stomach. She knew too many of their fates would come at the hands of Magua and his ambush. Could she help them? There were so many.

She was one person with the knowledge of foresight, now she knew how horrific a fate it was for Cassandra in the old Greek myths, although she assumed Cassandra had at least handled some of her life with a modicum of discernment.

Maybe she could try and tell Munro about the ambush? Would he even listen? Was she meant to change this bigger event at all?

The battle at Fort William Henry were documented historical events, while Alice and Uncas' own true stories were shrouded in hearsay and myth. All the history books knew for certain was he had died trying to save her and she had jumped. The novel, and other so-called accounts, drew in all the blanks and connections; and as many things do over time, fact had merged with fiction.

There were tales told by people who were supposedly there, or heard it second hand, the fairy-tale of the brave Mohican warrior who had risked all to save his lady love. Few denied something had happened, it had to have, people didn't run off to rescue someone they didn't care about, and they didn't end their lives after such an event without there being some deep reason behind it.

Erin had felt a certainty that she was here to help Alice and Uncas the moment she'd realized where she was, but what if she was wrong?

The whole situation was a mass of unanswered questions. She felt more uncertain by the minute that she even had any capability for doing what needed to be done. Not only was her own personality against her, but she was just a woman in this time, with no rank or standing, her word held no value to a battle-hardened army man like Colonel Munro. She hung her head in defeat, unsure what she could do, or if she would just make all these people suffer more.

She heard somewhere up ahead the dulcet yet sad melody of what sounded like a rustic fiddle. The soft strains beckoning her forward until the mellow euphonious voice of a female singer rose, dancing alongside the strings in a bittersweet song of a bonny land far, far away. She found a space upon a nearby log that had been commandeered as a bench of sorts.

Erin felt her heart tug as the lyrics longed and hoped and wanted, grasping for the unattainable. She wanted to go home too. For the first time since coming to this time, she understood that, with some simple instructions from the Camerons, she could have made her way back to the triple falls, she could have tried to go back. A strange ball of warmth, somewhere deep within, told her with certainty that it was possible, that it was her way home... It hadn't sunk in fully until that point, that going back would not be a picnic anymore, she was many miles away from those falls now and she couldn't just waltz back through the vast wilds on her own, or call a taxi and be there in a few hours. There was no easy way, she was stuck, and it had all been her own thoughtless choice.

The tears welled, unbidden, and slid down her cheeks silently as she sat and listened. The people's faces around her were cast in dancing firelight, each one full of melancholy and nostalgia for whatever they missed too, and Erin felt a kinship to them that eased her a little.

She watched, her nerves pricking, as Uncas' form came into the circle of light, his wish, it seemed, was to listen too. He was intent upon the scene for a moment, but then, as if sensing he was being watched, he turned, his eyes finding her in the crowd of people. Erin quickly swiped away the tears with the palm of her hand, not wanting him to see she had been crying. She did not want any of his sympathy, she didn't deserve it. He gave her a polite nod and she couldn't return his greeting with anything but a stare as she felt she had betrayed him with the blatant lies she'd told tonight. Before he had time to register her perceived snub the music had stopped, to a round of clapping and shouts of approval, drawing both their attentions away.

Then the fiddle player took up his instrument once again and the woman who had been singing gave the crowd a knowing look and grinned before beginning to clap out a beat with her hands. The fiddle's refrain picked up the rhythm and began to play a fast and merry tune. Erin laughed sadly, slowly starting to clap along too, she knew this song, it was called 'Cold and Frosty Morning', and she had danced to it only a few nights ago, with Ada.

People rose from their seats and started to dance, kicking their feet up in what could only be described as a last ditch effort to enjoy themselves.

Erin only had a moment to appreciate the renewed vigour swelling around her as her hand was suddenly grabbed and she was jerked to her feet, pulled into the melee of bodies, a hand quickly finding her waist and leading her to dance a reel she didn't know. A young and rather dashing looking private, his red coat discarded and hair fetchingly ruffled, had taken it upon himself to partner with her without question or permission, she was just expected to dance.

He whirled her through the throng, bumping into others in a frantic and rather clumsy display of what Erin supposed most humble dances were. Some followed carefully curated steps, while others just let off energy.

They jigged and hopped until Erin felt quite spent but still they continued, now pushed and twirled into another man's arms as partners were changed, arms held high and hands clasped, as other couples scurried underneath improvised arches.

In all the noise, Erin saw Uncas had been roped into the dance too, a young woman of about her age tugging him along. It was obvious he had no more knowledge of the steps than she, and Erin laughed as she saw him being pulled and pushed into position, his look bewildered.

The caper culminated in all of the dancers forming a large circle near the fire, hands clasping waists as they began to move in one direction. Erin smiled as she saw Uncas next to her, pushed into place by his dance companion. Their steps became faster as the fiddle played franticly, each new round of strings played with more energy, until they were spinning like a cage ride at a fairground, momentum and speed the only thing keeping everyone upon their feet.

The men let out whoops and the women screams of enjoyment, the threat of disaster just one stumble away. The playing reached a crescendo and Erin closed her eyes, feeling an excited shout bubble from her own throat, until the strings were played so fast that it seemed they would spark into flames; and then, with a finishing flourish, the music abruptly stopped, to many shouts of equal dismay and enjoyment. The dance slowed and halted with much huffing and laughter as everyone felt the release of pent up emotions. A congenial chatter rose as the small crowd talked animatedly to one another, their hopes revived for a short time.

Uncas bent, his hands upon his knees for a moment as he too caught his breath.

"Well, that was something," Erin said, her own chest heaving, and he looked up at her with a shake of his head.

"It was."

"I didn't think you were the type to dance," Erin said, teasing him.

"No one ever asked me before. Not a Yengeese dance. I can dance just fine."

This made Erin laugh. "Really? I must be going blind. I saw no 'fine' dancing." She gave a cheeky smile, knowing she was trying too hard to make him laugh, the guilt of all she'd said tonight welling within her like a traitorous wave, threatening to off balance her at any moment.

He eyed her with a comically stern look. "Yengeese dances are very strange, the movements are too strict. A dancer needs to feel the music, make their own steps." He straightened back to his full height.

"You loved every moment." She poked his side playfully and his eyebrows rose in amused surprise before he composed himself.

"You look better," he said, and pulled himself up as if he hadn't meant to say the words at all. He glanced at her, a slight concern of causing offense only gracing his expression for a second.

"It's amazing what a change of clothes can do." She dismissed his slight agitation with a wry grimace of self-deprecation. "I see you have a new shirt." She gestured to the clean, deep forest green shirt he was now wearing.

"It isn't new."

Erin thought he sounded like he was deflecting a compliment and she let out a soft amused snort.

"How..." he hesitated, as if unsure if he should continue, "is your arm?" His own hand curled around his forearm, a slight crease of sympathy upon his brow, but facetiousness pulled at his lips, wanting to become a smile.

"Fine." She eyed him with a mixture of embarrassment and suspicion. "I don't hold it against you, just so you know."

"Hold what?"

"Well, you... holding me down... remember?"

He gave her a bemused look. "No time for Yengeese ways and graces out here." He looked away. "Do, or do not do, all have consequences." He said the last part in his own tongue and gave her a sidelong glance of pleasure, thinking he knew something she did not. "But..." He eyed her with that same uncertainty and hint of distrust. "What is a... sadist? Is it a curse in Russian?"

Erin couldn't help but grin, she bit her bottom lip trying to repress it. "Yes," she lied, "in a fashion."

He stood patiently awaiting her explanation.

"It means the king of torturers, the worst!"

"Ah. Sadist." He rolled the word over his tongue. "It sounds kingly." He gave her another quick glance, his eyes dancing with cheerful amusement.

Erin glanced away, determined not to laugh. "And what of you and the kingdom? Are you well my prince?" She couldn't help wanting to trifle with him a little and turned back with a serious look upon her face.

He caught her joke instantly and gave her a playful look of reprimand.

She reached out, patting him familiarly upon the arm and he caught her hand with a swift movement of reflex to being touched, tugging her a little closer to him in the process. She wondered for a moment if she had offended him, but no, he didn't look annoyed, just deeply curious, his eyes examining her face in a way that suddenly made her want to pull away lest he see just what a terrible person she truly was. She removed herself slowly from his grip, taking a step backwards. He laughed, it sounded just a little tense to Erin's ears.

"Well, I'm glad his royal highness hasn't lost his humour."

He shook his head as if trying to understand her was an amusing folly. "Is your father here?" His eyes went to the crowd.

Knowing it would be very strange for her to be out here unaccompanied when family was meant to be close, Erin pointed at an older looking man with a bushy beard that was sat nearby the fire. He was very intent upon whatever was in his cup. "Yes, just there."

Uncas smiled. "It must be good to be with him again. I would like to greet him."

"Oh my father is drunk and he hates new people. Strangers make him jittery," Erin deflected quickly. "Although he very much enjoyed your little jig, a dancer fit enough for the courts of England he said, so full of grace and poise." She was chuckling now.

He shook his head again at her jest. "You think my dancing is bad?"

Erin smiled, knowing her ruse had worked, he was distracted from his line of questioning. "Bad, if you think watching a deer stumbling across ice, with its long legs flying out in all ways, is bad, I suppose." She waved her arms in the air in gesture of her meaning.

He laughed, that wrinkle upon his nose again.

"Red ant." He grinned, each syllable said with deliberate impish intent.

It was a phrase from his own language that she'd heard him say before, when they last had a conversation, the words back then said under his breath in a mumbled insult. "What did you say?" Erin's hands were upon her hips, ready to catch him out.

He laughed, rubbing his chin a moment. "I said, your hair is very red."

"I don't believe you," was all she could think of to say.

This just made him laugh all the more, enjoying her forthright manner. "You are not like the other Yengeese women," he said plainly, and Erin wasn't sure if it was meant as an affront or a compliment.

"Well, of course not," Erin said, grinning at him, finding more enjoyment in her next words than he could ever imagine. "I'm Russian!"

A/N

Friday already. It seemed to come so fast this week.

This chapter was originally twice as long but upon reading it through for errors, it felt like a dino-chapter and I decided to cut it in half, so it became a little bit of a lull between all the Erin drama, enjoy it while it lasts ;)

Thank you to all the readers, reviewers and message senders for giving your time.