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starrikaTitle: Flutter
Fandom: Last of the Mohicans
Claim: None
Status: In Progress
Rating: PG-13 (may progress to R in later chapters)
Summary: A retelling of the movie from Alice's perspective
Warnings: Mild war violence.
.
She fell further behind as the slope increased, leaving her to lag a few yards behind Cora and Duncan, and much farther from the man who was not an Indian, and the older man that was. If the younger man was irritated, he did not show it, stepping closer to Alice and keeping an eye to their rear. She could see him scanning the surrounding forest, but could not tell what he was thinking, as he was masked by a cool exterior. He had no trouble with the slope that she did, her breath coming raggedly, though she tried to mask it.
“Do you need an arm?” His voice cut through her reverie jarringly, leading her to look at him in surprise. His voice was warm and mellow, a light tenor that slid through the air instead of cutting it. And his eyes! They looked at her with concern, and no hint of exasperation that Cora sometimes had at her frailty. It was hard to believe that many people viewed the Indians as savages. Despite his odd clothes, he was as kind as all the other men she had ever met.
She realized that she hadn’t replied, his question hanging in the air for a few seconds as she had studied him. A blush rose once again. “Thank you, but I think I can manage. I would not want to distract you from keeping watch,” she answered quietly, her eyes downcast once again. He must think her frightfully bold, the way she kept staring at him! And yet, she could not help herself from looking at his remarkable eyes.
“As you wish, though you would not be a distraction,” he acquiesced, studying her slight form, and the bright color in her cheeks, more from exertion than maidenly shyness.
As if she could feel his eyes on her, Alice looked up again, wondering why he was studying her so. After a pause, she felt as if she should say more to him, to find out more about the man who had helped save them. “You speak English very well,” she commented softly.
He had been studying their surroundings, but his head turned to regard her once again at her remark. “I went to school with my brother. Father thought it would be important for us to learn,” he told her, his voice almost as quiet as hers.
“He is your brother?” Alice questioned, then hastily added, “Forgive me, that was rude.” Her eyes went to the ground once again, quite embarrassed by her behavior. Though she tried hard, she could not help some of the outspokenness that Cora cultivated in her.
She missed another smile on his face. “He is my adopted brother. My father has raised him since he was an infant alongside me. It is not a rude question, he certainly does not look to be my brother.”
Alice nodded, but was still ashamed of some of her behavior. They continued in silence as the climb became steeper. At the rate the ground was sloping upward, Alice was sure they would encounter a waterfall soon, and hoped it would not get much higher. Though her corsets had been loosened, she still ached, and her dress hung heavily on her light frame. She was beginning to regret not taking the man’s offer for his arm.
Their party had stretched itself thinner, with even more space between them, though she had seen Cora frequently looking back for her. However, Duncan continued to fuss over Cora, leaving the two girls separated. She could not even see the old man, though the man who was not an Indian was somewhat close to Cora and Duncan. The rocks began to shift under her feet, and Alice fervently hoped she would not turn an ankle. When she slipped on the gravel and almost fell, however, it was the man beside her who gripped her upper arm tightly, keeping her upright.
“Thank you,” Alice told him softly, her breathing laborious after her fright. She had not turned her ankle, though the hem of her dress was nearly ripped out now. One could barely tell that her skirts were pink anymore from all the water and mud it had been exposed to.
“Rest a moment,” he told her, his grip relaxing on her upper arm, though his hand stayed in place, as if trying to steady her breathing. He let out a sharp whistle, and the rest of the party stopped, though Cora was prevented from rushing to her sister by Duncan insisting she sit as well. Though Alice was many yards behind, she could tell that Cora was quite frustrated and angry at this point.
The man who was not an Indian came down to them, however, and had a muted conversation with the other man in a language Alice could not comprehend. Instead, she wondered what their names were, as she felt it was quite rude to continue thinking of them as the older man, the man who was not an Indian, and the man with the wondrous eyes. She had taken a seat on the jutting rock, pleased that she was not fatigued so much as short of breath. If they continued to move slowly, she would be able to avoid injury, for though she was weak, she was not incapacitated.
After her breathing had slowed, they moved again, though the man with her was careful to help her with the rockier parts of the path. “May I ask your name?” she questioned after a long bout of silence, punctuated only by the sound of rushing water.
“Uncas,” he told her, the look in his eyes unreadable as they focused on hers. “My father is Chingachgook, and my brother Nathaniel.”
“Mine is Alice Munro. I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Uncas,” she replied quietly, as if afraid to raise her voice in the forest, despite being overpowered by the flowing water.
They reached a steep cliff shortly after this, which the men had no trouble ascending, but Alice saw Cora’s feet tangle in her skirts as she managed the small climb. She was quite nervous about falling, even such a short distance, because her body ached so much already. She looked to her left, studying the waterfall and trying to calm herself. It was so beautiful in this clearing on the banks of the river, and so hard to reconcile that with the savagery that had taken place in the woods. So intent in her musings, she did not even see Uncas studying her intently, his eyes drinking in the sight of her lithe frame and delicate profile. If she had, her cheeks would have flushed more brightly than they had the entire flight towards safety.
Duncan reached a hand to her, but she held tight in her grip on the rocks, her boots sliding on the wet stone. “I’m not sure I can grip your hand without slipping, Duncan,” she told him tremulously, trying to find more secure footing. It took a few moments, but she ascended like the others, the only injury being the rest of her hem, which was entirely ripped out at this point.
Uncas ascending just as fast, taking his place next to her once again. Their party was closer together at this point, though still silent, which Alice could not comprehend. She was a quiet person by nature, but it only seemed polite to talk with the rest of the party. Uncas and the other men had saved them, had they not? Though she was quite close to Cora, and admired Duncan greatly, it was times like this that she felt like an entirely different person.
She stole a glance at the man beside her, with the wonderful eyes, and the warm, mellow voice. There was a flutter in her stomach once again, and a flush rising in her cheeks. It was unladylike, she was sure, but somehow Alice had developed a strong admiration for the man who had helped them along. And if admiring Uncas was against society, she thought with resolve more suited to her sister, Alice no longer cared.
Fandom: Last of the Mohicans
Claim: None
Status: In Progress
Rating: PG-13 (may progress to R in later chapters)
Summary: A retelling of the movie from Alice's perspective
Warnings: Mild war violence.
.
She fell further behind as the slope increased, leaving her to lag a few yards behind Cora and Duncan, and much farther from the man who was not an Indian, and the older man that was. If the younger man was irritated, he did not show it, stepping closer to Alice and keeping an eye to their rear. She could see him scanning the surrounding forest, but could not tell what he was thinking, as he was masked by a cool exterior. He had no trouble with the slope that she did, her breath coming raggedly, though she tried to mask it.
“Do you need an arm?” His voice cut through her reverie jarringly, leading her to look at him in surprise. His voice was warm and mellow, a light tenor that slid through the air instead of cutting it. And his eyes! They looked at her with concern, and no hint of exasperation that Cora sometimes had at her frailty. It was hard to believe that many people viewed the Indians as savages. Despite his odd clothes, he was as kind as all the other men she had ever met.
She realized that she hadn’t replied, his question hanging in the air for a few seconds as she had studied him. A blush rose once again. “Thank you, but I think I can manage. I would not want to distract you from keeping watch,” she answered quietly, her eyes downcast once again. He must think her frightfully bold, the way she kept staring at him! And yet, she could not help herself from looking at his remarkable eyes.
“As you wish, though you would not be a distraction,” he acquiesced, studying her slight form, and the bright color in her cheeks, more from exertion than maidenly shyness.
As if she could feel his eyes on her, Alice looked up again, wondering why he was studying her so. After a pause, she felt as if she should say more to him, to find out more about the man who had helped save them. “You speak English very well,” she commented softly.
He had been studying their surroundings, but his head turned to regard her once again at her remark. “I went to school with my brother. Father thought it would be important for us to learn,” he told her, his voice almost as quiet as hers.
“He is your brother?” Alice questioned, then hastily added, “Forgive me, that was rude.” Her eyes went to the ground once again, quite embarrassed by her behavior. Though she tried hard, she could not help some of the outspokenness that Cora cultivated in her.
She missed another smile on his face. “He is my adopted brother. My father has raised him since he was an infant alongside me. It is not a rude question, he certainly does not look to be my brother.”
Alice nodded, but was still ashamed of some of her behavior. They continued in silence as the climb became steeper. At the rate the ground was sloping upward, Alice was sure they would encounter a waterfall soon, and hoped it would not get much higher. Though her corsets had been loosened, she still ached, and her dress hung heavily on her light frame. She was beginning to regret not taking the man’s offer for his arm.
Their party had stretched itself thinner, with even more space between them, though she had seen Cora frequently looking back for her. However, Duncan continued to fuss over Cora, leaving the two girls separated. She could not even see the old man, though the man who was not an Indian was somewhat close to Cora and Duncan. The rocks began to shift under her feet, and Alice fervently hoped she would not turn an ankle. When she slipped on the gravel and almost fell, however, it was the man beside her who gripped her upper arm tightly, keeping her upright.
“Thank you,” Alice told him softly, her breathing laborious after her fright. She had not turned her ankle, though the hem of her dress was nearly ripped out now. One could barely tell that her skirts were pink anymore from all the water and mud it had been exposed to.
“Rest a moment,” he told her, his grip relaxing on her upper arm, though his hand stayed in place, as if trying to steady her breathing. He let out a sharp whistle, and the rest of the party stopped, though Cora was prevented from rushing to her sister by Duncan insisting she sit as well. Though Alice was many yards behind, she could tell that Cora was quite frustrated and angry at this point.
The man who was not an Indian came down to them, however, and had a muted conversation with the other man in a language Alice could not comprehend. Instead, she wondered what their names were, as she felt it was quite rude to continue thinking of them as the older man, the man who was not an Indian, and the man with the wondrous eyes. She had taken a seat on the jutting rock, pleased that she was not fatigued so much as short of breath. If they continued to move slowly, she would be able to avoid injury, for though she was weak, she was not incapacitated.
After her breathing had slowed, they moved again, though the man with her was careful to help her with the rockier parts of the path. “May I ask your name?” she questioned after a long bout of silence, punctuated only by the sound of rushing water.
“Uncas,” he told her, the look in his eyes unreadable as they focused on hers. “My father is Chingachgook, and my brother Nathaniel.”
“Mine is Alice Munro. I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Uncas,” she replied quietly, as if afraid to raise her voice in the forest, despite being overpowered by the flowing water.
They reached a steep cliff shortly after this, which the men had no trouble ascending, but Alice saw Cora’s feet tangle in her skirts as she managed the small climb. She was quite nervous about falling, even such a short distance, because her body ached so much already. She looked to her left, studying the waterfall and trying to calm herself. It was so beautiful in this clearing on the banks of the river, and so hard to reconcile that with the savagery that had taken place in the woods. So intent in her musings, she did not even see Uncas studying her intently, his eyes drinking in the sight of her lithe frame and delicate profile. If she had, her cheeks would have flushed more brightly than they had the entire flight towards safety.
Duncan reached a hand to her, but she held tight in her grip on the rocks, her boots sliding on the wet stone. “I’m not sure I can grip your hand without slipping, Duncan,” she told him tremulously, trying to find more secure footing. It took a few moments, but she ascended like the others, the only injury being the rest of her hem, which was entirely ripped out at this point.
Uncas ascending just as fast, taking his place next to her once again. Their party was closer together at this point, though still silent, which Alice could not comprehend. She was a quiet person by nature, but it only seemed polite to talk with the rest of the party. Uncas and the other men had saved them, had they not? Though she was quite close to Cora, and admired Duncan greatly, it was times like this that she felt like an entirely different person.
She stole a glance at the man beside her, with the wonderful eyes, and the warm, mellow voice. There was a flutter in her stomach once again, and a flush rising in her cheeks. It was unladylike, she was sure, but somehow Alice had developed a strong admiration for the man who had helped them along. And if admiring Uncas was against society, she thought with resolve more suited to her sister, Alice no longer cared.