Thirteen Voices Raised 7/13
anonymous
November 3 2010, 05:15:49 UTC
vii.
They’ve won a battle and win the next one and the one after that too. New Jersey spins into America’s arms and whispers ‘he’s gone,’ through their kiss. America has become used to the colonies constant touches (though he still wonders about them sometimes, it really shows they weren’t raised by England) and he laughs and dances with him. New Jersey and Pennsylvania go together to harass the British and come back laughing with many tales to tell around the campfire. America is happy; he hopes the tide is turning. The war doesn’t stop for small victories nor change for hopes.
England and the boy sneak back and steal his garrison. Then America has to leave his own fort to the sound of England’s approaching footsteps and it hurts the something fresh in new inside of him that is growing inside of him and that makes him angry. When England sweeps down on his retreating men it gets even worse. England has the higher ground but he stands and fights with New Hampshire at his back. They lose (and that hurts even more because something deep inside of him thinks that hard work sure mean victory not defeat and he has been working oh so hard) but England’s hurt too. They run away and this time they are not pursued.
Washington is a genius. Sometimes America wondered how much luck he used up getting him. Back when he was a child England used to tell him stories of his great men who would rise up and save him when the need was great but America never imagined having some of his very own. General Washington, though, is everything he could have wanted and so much more than he ever thought he would need. If he had a choice he would stay with him all the time but his people call to him and he goes. That’s how he ends up at Oriskany.
It’s horrible. Too many people are him. England also used to tell him about Civil Wars and he thinks he might have a taste of what it feels like. There are his soldiers and Oneida’s people (and it feels very strange to be working with him) on the outside trying to help the pain of his people inside the fort and he feels the blood they shed. Then, though, there are the others. The people who are the him that sometimes thinks that leaving Britain was a horrible idea and he should just go back and ignore the trouble makers. The him that comes into his head late at night when he can’t sleep and whispers, whispers always whispers whywhywhywhywhy and America wants to rip his head apart because it hurts and it doesn’t stop. Then the blackness comes.
America wakes up to New York’s worried face ten days later and another battle fought. He lies still as New York tells gives him New Hampshire and Massachusetts’ reports though his voice is very soft when he confirms that Canada was fighting with England. America does nothing remarkable. He feels different, whole. In that time of darkness he accepted his decision and everyone else can go hang themselves. He rubs his arm where the latest battle has left a small cut. Sometimes victory has a price.
This new resolution sharps into an iron tip as Philadelphia falls. Even now he’s deemed too weak to participate in fighting so he holds Pennsylvania during the Paoli massacre and pretends not to hear his muffled sobs as England claims Philadelphia. His heart burns too as his capital falls but it can’t be anything like what Pennsylvania is feeling. He remembers the house he spent his early months in and its Penn’s turn to ignore tears. “The people will rise for this,” he promises, “they will.”
Thirteen Voices Raised 7b/13
anonymous
November 3 2010, 05:18:27 UTC
Then there is Saratoga. Saratoga is war at every level and it thrills him despite himself. He wants to hate war and he does, sometimes. America’s sure he used to hate it back when it shook him and he didn’t understand but he fights now and it gives him a power that nothing else does. He’s exhilarated and terrified by turns and both of them are like a drug or drink and pull him on while numbing his senses. He sees them all together England, Canada and Holy Roman Empire. Brothers and Stranger, all of them enemies. He doesn’t care.
Victory is even better. America has won battles before but this feels like he’s won the whole damn war. The British are cut off and retreating (and oh god does he remember retreating, retreating, retreating for endless miles and he has no sympathy for the enemy) and the general surrenders and the world is bright. For the first time he wishes he would see England even if only to laugh in his face because ha. That day it seems as if all news is good: France is coming.
France arrives with his usual panache and America would laugh at his clothes (how long has it been since he’s removed his own) but he’s too busy clinging to him like the child he isn’t, anymore, to bother. France rocks him back and forth and runs his fingers through his hair and at that moment America would do anything for him. He looks up to try to express his love and gratitude in words and can’t. Instead he leans forward and kisses France trying to reach him with his soul. That is another good day.
Re: Thirteen Voices Raised 7b/13
anonymous
November 3 2010, 14:43:07 UTC
Have I told you lately that I love you? The relationship dynamics in this are really fascinating. lol I kind of wonder what France thought of that kiss. It strikes me that even though America is going around kissing a bunch of people, the way that he does it, or thinks about it, is kind of innocent. Kind of makes me wonder how European powers treat relationships, or alliances or whatever. Oh and battles are starting to hurt him! You're getting there America! Oh dear, Valley Forge. Not pleasant.
thanks, it's actually a bit different than my usual writing voice though i do love abusing parenthesis. Once this is finished (4 more parts + epilogue) i'm going to post the civil war piece under anything-goes-historical
They’ve won a battle and win the next one and the one after that too. New Jersey spins into America’s arms and whispers ‘he’s gone,’ through their kiss. America has become used to the colonies constant touches (though he still wonders about them sometimes, it really shows they weren’t raised by England) and he laughs and dances with him. New Jersey and Pennsylvania go together to harass the British and come back laughing with many tales to tell around the campfire. America is happy; he hopes the tide is turning. The war doesn’t stop for small victories nor change for hopes.
England and the boy sneak back and steal his garrison. Then America has to leave his own fort to the sound of England’s approaching footsteps and it hurts the something fresh in new inside of him that is growing inside of him and that makes him angry. When England sweeps down on his retreating men it gets even worse. England has the higher ground but he stands and fights with New Hampshire at his back. They lose (and that hurts even more because something deep inside of him thinks that hard work sure mean victory not defeat and he has been working oh so hard) but England’s hurt too. They run away and this time they are not pursued.
Washington is a genius. Sometimes America wondered how much luck he used up getting him. Back when he was a child England used to tell him stories of his great men who would rise up and save him when the need was great but America never imagined having some of his very own. General Washington, though, is everything he could have wanted and so much more than he ever thought he would need. If he had a choice he would stay with him all the time but his people call to him and he goes. That’s how he ends up at Oriskany.
It’s horrible. Too many people are him. England also used to tell him about Civil Wars and he thinks he might have a taste of what it feels like. There are his soldiers and Oneida’s people (and it feels very strange to be working with him) on the outside trying to help the pain of his people inside the fort and he feels the blood they shed. Then, though, there are the others. The people who are the him that sometimes thinks that leaving Britain was a horrible idea and he should just go back and ignore the trouble makers. The him that comes into his head late at night when he can’t sleep and whispers, whispers always whispers whywhywhywhywhy and America wants to rip his head apart because it hurts and it doesn’t stop. Then the blackness comes.
America wakes up to New York’s worried face ten days later and another battle fought. He lies still as New York tells gives him New Hampshire and Massachusetts’ reports though his voice is very soft when he confirms that Canada was fighting with England. America does nothing remarkable. He feels different, whole. In that time of darkness he accepted his decision and everyone else can go hang themselves. He rubs his arm where the latest battle has left a small cut. Sometimes victory has a price.
This new resolution sharps into an iron tip as Philadelphia falls. Even now he’s deemed too weak to participate in fighting so he holds Pennsylvania during the Paoli massacre and pretends not to hear his muffled sobs as England claims Philadelphia. His heart burns too as his capital falls but it can’t be anything like what Pennsylvania is feeling. He remembers the house he spent his early months in and its Penn’s turn to ignore tears. “The people will rise for this,” he promises, “they will.”
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Victory is even better. America has won battles before but this feels like he’s won the whole damn war. The British are cut off and retreating (and oh god does he remember retreating, retreating, retreating for endless miles and he has no sympathy for the enemy) and the general surrenders and the world is bright. For the first time he wishes he would see England even if only to laugh in his face because ha. That day it seems as if all news is good: France is coming.
France arrives with his usual panache and America would laugh at his clothes (how long has it been since he’s removed his own) but he’s too busy clinging to him like the child he isn’t, anymore, to bother. France rocks him back and forth and runs his fingers through his hair and at that moment America would do anything for him. He looks up to try to express his love and gratitude in words and can’t. Instead he leans forward and kisses France trying to reach him with his soul. That is another good day.
I really hate midterms. Next time: Valley Forge
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The relationship dynamics in this are really fascinating.
lol I kind of wonder what France thought of that kiss. It strikes me that even though America is going around kissing a bunch of people, the way that he does it, or thinks about it, is kind of innocent. Kind of makes me wonder how European powers treat relationships, or alliances or whatever.
Oh and battles are starting to hurt him! You're getting there America!
Oh dear, Valley Forge. Not pleasant.
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And I don't think I ever replied back (bad OP bad) but I would love to see a follow up with the states and the Civil War.
LOVES.
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