Just a one shot fic about the Hessian, No pairings or anything just a life lesson if you will =] p.s- German is not my first language, also- I am hopeless at writing/typing in German so apologies f...
I couldn’t breathe; I couldn’t even stop to breathe.
My head was throbbing just like when I hold my breath for a long time.
I felt like my legs would cease to hold my weight at any moment, my feet stung because of the speed and force at which they beat the pavement.
And my chest felt as if I had a knife going through it.
I felt my heart hammering.
I was so sure I would die of either a heart attack or asphyxiation...Which would be better than how I would die if I stopped.
It was no use, I couldn’t carry on...
I let myself collapse, hitting the ground painfully.
I had to accept my fate- I would soon be dead....like my dear old father; He had died only days ago.
I missed him, the grief still overwhelming.
I had to try to put it to the back of my mind.
In a strange sort of way, I hated him too....It were his entire fault I was here like this, about to lose my own life too.
He had brought me to America some 5 months ago.
My mother had died of Influenza 2 years before.
I could have stayed home while father came here....I would have preferred to stay home.
But he wouldn’t hear of it, argued with me, said I would be all alone....that I he must take me with him if only so he wouldn’t have to worry about me- Well he was right, Now he couldn’t worry about anything.
3 days ago, while here in Sleepy Hollow- he had lost his life in battle, an English general; He was fighting against the Americans.
All I wanted was to go home- back to my beloved England.
Away from death, away from blood and away from this ridiculous war.
Well, my time has now come... I thought as the hoof beats stopped mere feet from where I lay.
The rider dismounted and walked slowly, but confidently towards me.
I felt as if I would cry, I didn’t want to die here....not like this.
This soldier was feared by most- Only a fool wouldn’t be afraid of him.
I had heard my father speak about him with some of the other men, Had heard him described as a demon....a terrible assassin who enjoyed the chaos and carnage of battle.
His trademarks were said to be his sharpened teeth....and the way he killed; He was famous for chopping off the head of any man who dared come within feet of him.
As I lay helplessly on the ground still looking up fearfully at this terrifying man standing over me.
I noticed he did not wear the colours of the other Hessians; his uniform was all black with silver detail, He wore a heavy cloak lined with red.
I waited for him to kill me....but he didn’t.
Instead he held out his gloved hand for me to take, seconds passed us by as I tried to decide whether or not I should take it.
Reluctantly I reached out my own hand and carefully he eased me up onto my feet.
I winced in pain and could not help letting out a small gasp through clenched teeth as I bore weight on my ankle which until now I wasn’t aware was injured, and just like that- I found myself on the floor again.
Perfect! I thought, angrily now rather than scared- I was here, helpless and unable to even stand completely at the mercy of someone said to be merciless.
He kneeled down beside me and applied pressure to the offending ankle.
He looked at me.
‘’nicht gebrochen, nur verstaucht ’’
Luckily, I knew German well enough thanks to my father and the other soldiers- including some of the other Hessians, Which was just as well considering this man did not seem to speak English at all.
Without warning I felt my stomach heave as he picked me up so suddenly and with ease, He settled me onto the back of his great black stallion.
Where was he taking me?....and why?
I thought warily, knowing I couldn’t really do anything about it.
‘’Sie konnten nicht ging, es sei denn, Sie haben, um die Verstauchung schlimmer wollte’’.
He said as if he had read my mind.
After only a few minutes he pulled in the reigns to stop before rummaging around in his pocket, taking something out and presenting it to me.
It was my pendant- the one my father had given me for my last birthday....the last thing I had as a reminder of him.
‘’Sie ließ es fallen, wollte ich es zurückgeben’’.
‘’Is that why you chased me?’’
I asked in surprise, he said nothing- only nodded.
By now we were moving again and I still wondered if he would kill me.
This time we didn’t stop until we reached what had been my fathers’ camp.
When we were close enough to one of the men, he dismounted and then carried me the short distance to the young English soldier.
‘’General Cook’s Tochter - sie ist verletzt; sie dürfen kein Gewicht auf dem linken Fuß’’
He told the boy briskly.
When I was using the boy to support myself, the Hessian once more dug around in one of his pockets, this time pulling out a handful of coins.
‘’nehmen Sie es’’ He said-
‘’Es ist alles, was ich mit mir- Es ist nicht viel, aber es sollte Sie wieder nach England’’.
Then he looked at the English soldier- ‘’Seht zu, dass sie nach Hause kommt sicher’’.
With one last look at me, he turned back to his horse only a few feet away and left.
That was the first and last time I saw this fearsome warrior.
I learned he died only weeks later.
My chance encounter taught me some valuable lessons;
Not to believe everything you hear.
And never to judge a book by it’s cover.
He did for me that day, something I doubt most of the other men would have.
And now, 10 years later- I often spare a thought for that kind, but misunderstood stranger, I sometimes find myself wondering what his name were.
It would have been nice for me to have known, If only so I could think of his name- And perhaps wherever he is, He might have known the kindness he showed me that day will never be forgotten.