Reflections in a Flawed Mirror, Part 1
The Mirror Unveiled

Notes and warnings:

This piece of erotic fantasy fan fiction is based in part on the characters (notably, Colonel Tavington) from the movie, The Patriot. This is a piece of fiction, and not meant to be taken seriously (do not seek historical accuracy here). This piece of fan fiction has many adult situations (sexual, cross dressing, dominance & submission, violence and blood sports) and therefore is restricted to those of a mind to handle such scenarios. I will not tolerate hate mail expressing that I have a sick and twisted imagination - I am aware of the boundaries between fantasy and reality but am also open minded about what some of us consider erotic. Personally, I am a pacifist and see little use for real violence.

This piece of fan fiction was written with the use of Dragon NaturallySpeaking (a speech dictation program), as I am unable to use the computer conventionally as a result of my chronic tendinitis disability. Therefore, there may be errors in word choice or use which I missed upon re-reading. Feel free to e-mail me with corrections.

This piece of fan fiction is written in the first person from a female perspective. I have only written one other piece of fan fiction, and have very seldom written anything in the first person, so this became a personal challenge to me.

This piece of fan fiction was written all at once and in the spur of the moment. Whether I will continue with Part 2 depends on (a) finding time, (b) whether or not anyone is interested in a Part 2, and (c) whether or not I can come up with a personally satisfying ending for our antiheroes.

Feel free to drop me a line with any comments or criticisms you may have.

Reflections in a Flawed Mirror, Part 1
The Mirror Unveiled

I was bored, absolutely positively bored. I had been living in Southern Carolina for three years now and had set myself up extremely well with an obscene portfolio of land, which, under my ministrations, expanded at a rapid rate and continue to do so. As a result of my ambition, and my inheritance, I wanted for nothing except for some excitement and distraction from my daily routine. Not that my daily routine was completely devoid of what I consider to be entertainment, but it lacked the intensity I often sought in life. The world was seemingly at my fingertips -- it always has been and always would be if I had anything to say about it.

As a result of my social position, it came one evening where I was invited to General Cornwallis' current place of residence during this revolutionary war engulfing the region. I arrived with only one of my faithful servants at my side -- Marcus. He had been with me for a very long time and knew more about me than anyone else - he was a perfect aide and abstained from lectures regarding diplomacy and compassion, two attributes I lacked almost completely. He was privy to my most intimate machinations and desires, and I trusted him more than any other person alive.

As this affair was an informal gathering, I was spared the announcement of my presence upon entering the domicile of General Cornwallis. Gathering my black European style gown around me, I retreated into a darkened corner with Marcus at my side. Decidedly late, I was able to survey the guests already there. I dispatched Marcus to find out as much as he could about several of the people whom I was unfamiliar with. I have always made it a point to obtain as much knowledge as possible regarding the people in my vicinity and that which ruled them. From that, virtually anything is possible. In due course, Marcus returned with a glass of wine and some information. He relayed the information to me as concisely as he knew I required it. I knew from the slight smile on his face he was keeping the final gem of information, that which I most coveted, for last.

"So tell me about that man over there surrounded by the three women, looking completely unamused?" I asked patiently about the one man who did not seem to fit in with his surroundings.

"His name is Colonel William Tavington. General Cornwallis asked for him specifically -- it appears Colonel Tavington has risen through the ranks very quickly and earned himself quite the reputation as a very efficient soldier, albeit a brutal one. Colonel Tavington presides over the green dragoons and his men are ruthlessly loyal." Marcus began his account in a very hushed tone.

I glanced over at Marcus and smiled, "And the rest?"

"He is very single. The women, who have been with him, do not speak of it afterwards. It appears he has little use for such distractions. His loyalties are first and foremost to himself and his duties. Apparently, he is a very intellectual individual and prefers the company of his own self as he finds the company of others to be quite tiresome." Marcus added slyly, "Sounds like a challenge..."

"That it does," I said succumbing to another grin. "Thank you, Marcus". My eyes skittered across the many faces, finally resting on the visage of Colonel William Tavington. He appeared physically splendid in his uniform of red. His boots fit him perfectly and his trousers tight across his toned legs. His hair was a deep chestnut brown, tied back very tightly, lending to the extremity of his appearance. His eyes were an unholy ice blue, cold as his reputed heart. His facial tone was very pale and facial form almost square -- there must have been quite the Mid Europpean background in his British soul.

He must have felt my piercing gaze for his eyes connected to mine. I did not avert them, but I met them head-on and then touched the rim of my glass to my lips and drank. His eyes followed my form, from top to bottom and then up again where he met my gaze once more. I could sense a moment of curiosity. Perhaps it was my black gown against my alabaster flesh -- or perhaps my steady green eyes -- or perhaps it was beyond physical. I then turned to Marcus, "Circulate yourself amongst the room, and make yourself available to the good Colonel. Feel free to answer any of his questions."

"As you wish," Marcus bowed and left my side, the task understood.

I traveled very slowly about the room, speaking with a few individuals I knew and introducing myself to those I would soon come to know in one form or another. Out of the corner of my eye, I did notice Marcus speaking with Colonel Tavington. We were on a level playing field now -- applicable information was exchanged. I soon found my way to General Cornwallis himself.

"General Cornwallis," I began, giving him a bow. I despised the curtsy and the submissive female implications of it.

"I am so honored to finally make your acquaintance, Countess von Schreck. Your contributions to the war effort have been tremendously appreciated by myself and the British government," General Cornwallis lifted my black-gloved hand to his lips in formality.

"You and the British government are most welcome," I smiled and withdrew my hand to my side.

As if on cue, Colonel Tavington slid soundlessly next to General Cornwallis.

General Cornwallis made the introductions, "Countess Maxine von Schreck, allow me to introduce you to one of my best men, Colonel William Tavington. Tavington, the Countess is one of our most ardent supporters in South Carolina."

I shifted my body so I faced Colonel Tavington directly. Our eyes locked once more, and for a moment I did not breathe - most men failed to hold my penetrating gaze for such a period of time. I lifted my hand and he grasped my fingers firmly -- very firmly. Our eyes did not once avert as he brought my hand to his lips and linger there for several moments -- long moments.

"It is always nice to know there are loyalties even here in South Carolina." Tavington said upon releasing my hand, his voice deep as a bassoon. I noticed a slight involuntary eye twitch - he kept much to himself. He was extremely private, and in all likelihood, has never let anyone in too close.

I smiled, "It is always nice to know there are such accomplished men even here in South Carolina." I turned to General Cornwallis very briefly, "Thank you for the invitation, General."

"You are most welcome, Countess. If you would not mind excusing me, Tavington, Countess -- there is someone I must see." And with that, General Cornwallis departed company -- for which we both seemed grateful.

Tavington turned to face me, "Have you seen the gardens of this estate?"

"Not in the nighttime," I replied with a smile on my face.

"Shall we?" He asked, with presumption. He certainly had ego.

I smiled even more widely on the inside. I nodded and we made for the outdoors. We picked up two glasses of wine on the way out and found a quiet place in the garden by an operating water fountain.

"How long have you lived in South Carolina?" Tavington asked with genuine interest, a deeper question at the heart.

"I moved here from Austria three years ago after my father died. Originally I came here to wrap up some of his business affairs, but decided to stay for a while." I answered all of his questions with one.

"It is beautiful country. But it is not London." He reflected, his mind appeared to wander away momentarily in reverie.

"Do you miss your home?" I asked sincerely.

"Sometimes. I too enjoy this region. It affords me many opportunities..." He glanced in my direction, a salacious grin played upon his lips.

"Yes, I understand. Life here can be very lucrative." I concurred slowly, sharing in his thoughts.

"And you most certainly have proven to be quite accomplished in that goal. Even at the expense of some traits, such as clemency, often used to smooth over the process of material acquisition." Tavington remarked, his lips curled in appreciative cruelty. "Evicting plantation families so quickly after their purchase." His mock reprimand towards me drew a wry smile from my lips.

"It's all business, Colonel." I replied drinking deeply from my glass. "There are no personal relationships to be had in any business. You of all people must understand that. While your actions and behavior are tinged with your personal preferences, they are guided by duty and simple fulfillment of the job at hand."

"You perceive the extermination of human life as a job, then?" he raised a brow in query.

"Senseless slaughter takes no skill but premeditated or purposeful murder is often a necessary occupation. It is necessary in war."

"And when there is no war, Countess?" Tavington appeared to be enjoying our minor tete a tete. He enjoyed playing the devil's advocate regardless of his personal beliefs -- if only to better understand a situation from another perspective.

I sighed and captured his gaze once more, "There is always a war being fought somewhere, Colonel, and not always under the guise of hardened battle."

"You are quick to justify your own actions."

"Aren't you?" I countered, raising my glass' edge to my lips and drank.

Just then, a green dragoon soldier harried up to Tavington's side, "Pardon the intrusion, Colonel Tavington, but I have news..."

"Excuse me, Countess," Tavington lifted my hand once more to his lips before departing.

The evening continued, and we were unable to speak privately and resume our conversation. However, across the room our eyes locked intensely many times. Marcus discovered for me that Tavington had quarters in General Cornwallis' estate, which he used from time to time - this night being one of them. As the guests were leaving, I bade Marcus leave as well, while I covertly found my way to Tavington's quarters.

His quarters were spartan, but very neat and tidy for what was there. I lit a single lamp. I browsed the titles of the books resting upon a shelf -- mostly military and legal treatises. My eyes wandered, and they fell upon a chessboard sitting at the center of the table for two. I poured two glasses of Scotch whiskey and set them both down on the table. My eyes lingered on the chessboard, contemplating what strategy he would utilize. I selected a pawn and moved it. My fingers grasped one of the glasses of Scotch whiskey and I lifted the rim of the glass to my lips. I was pleasantly surprised, or perhaps I wasn't, to find the Scotch whiskey was of extremely high quality. I detected footsteps approaching the door. I watched as the brass knob turned and the door push open. If Tavington was surprised to discover me, he did not reveal it. He entered, and closed the door firmly behind him.

As he removed his gloves ritualistically, he spoke "I warrant you did not come here to have a game of chess at one o'clock in the morning with one of General Cornwallis' Colonels."

I spoke over the rim of my glass brazenly, "You are correct. However that is the situation which has presented itself."

Very deliberately, he glanced at the chessboard, moved one of his own pawns, and set his gloves on the bureau. I leaned over the chessboard and moved another piece. Out of the corner of my eye I spied Colonel Tavington remove his sword from his side. He quickly moved another piece and then rested his sword against the wall by his bureau. I moved again. He motioned for me to sit, and I did. He sat down across from me, and we played without speaking a word -- both of us caught up in the game, caught up in the moment. Both of us played well, modifying strategies as quickly as possible to counter the other's moves. Tavington was definitely a worthy chess adversary. At one point I could have won in several moves, but I faltered. From the information Marcus relayed to me earlier in the evening, Tavington had a bit of the temper -- something I did not wish to test at this point in time. I allowed Tavington to capture my Queen and Checkmate me. I drained the last drop of Scotch in the glass.

"Would you care for another?" Tavington asked rising from his seat, refusing to remark on the game just played out.

"Please," I handed him my glass, his fingertips brushing against mine deliberately. I stood up behind him as he poured me another drink and refilled his own glass.

Tavington turned to face me, sliding my glass into my waiting hand. "So what is the situation now, Countess?" He inquired with a flicker of amusement. He always had to be in control - that was evident. Another trait I shared.

I took his hand in mine, and guided his index finger into my glass of Scotch. I tipped the glass so the Scotch ran over his finger. He looked at me with intense curiosity. I raised his hand to my eye level and then touched his index finger against my lips. Scotch whiskey burned into my lips as I slid his finger very slowly from one corner of my mouth to its opposite. I released his hand and he set his own glass aside. He took my glass into my hand, and dipped his index finger once more into its contents. He stepped even closer to me now and brought his finger up to my lips. I parted my lips and his finger entered my mouth. I touched his finger with my tongue and sucked on it gently -- our eyes locking as they had before -- but this time, with a ferocity surprising us both unabashed desire. Tavington took a sip from my glass before setting it aside firmly and with purpose. He withdrew his finger ever so slowly, sliding his hand across my cheek and then to the back of my neck. He stepped even closer, his face before mine. I lifted my head as he tilted his down, our lips joining. I parted my lips to take his tongue in my mouth, but was met with a splash of Scotch whiskey from his own mouth. It burned more fiercely -- as though I were drinking from the fires of hell themselves. I swished the Scotch around my mouth and took his tongue deep within. I drank deeply of the Scotch and I drank deeply of him.

Tavington pressed his body against mine, his arms at my sides, fingers digging in to my hips. My hands slid up his chest to the nape of his neck where I found his neck scarf tied. My fingers adeptly untied the scarf while our kiss became all-consuming and all fire. Hungrily our fingers undressed one another with practiced skill until we stood before one another completely without apparel. Our lips locked once more, and we lowered ourselves on to his bed. Our fingers and hands searched and roamed the territory of one another's flesh for a time that seemed endless. We made no commentaries on the various scars decorating one another's skin -- perhaps that would be a discussion for another time. On many occasions during our mutual hand and lip exploration, I moaned against his mouth and he sighed against mine. After considerable time, he entered me gently. I soon after began to rise up against him, wrapping my legs around his backside.

We had spoken not a word during this intimate exchange -- not since he refilled our glasses with Scotch. He searched out my gaze and caught it while he moved more deeply and more insistently. I threw my arm across my mouth to cover the pleasure filled noise escaping my throat. Tavington understood this to be exactly what it was -- permission. Tavington unleashed the full extent of his length. I grasped the headboard behind me for stability and brought my legs down, feet flat upon the bed and knees bent up. His pace quickened and I met his every thrust with one of my own. My head was thrown back and my mouth gaped open in a silent scream of ecstasy. Just when I thought I could take no more, Tavington slowed the pace, leaned down and closed his mouth over mine. We kissed ravenously, fingers flying across one another's aching bodies urgently, clinging to the exquisite moment of rapture.

What was causing Tavington to behave differently with me, I pondered for a moment. His reputation in lust was not overtly monstrous, but it certainly wasn't one of consideration. Or, perhaps it was all a matter of perspective. I knew full well the lovers I took spoke least of my consideration in regards to acts of passion. I kept no lovers after two encounters - they all disappointed in the end silly boys with notions of romance and heads filled with gaudy poetry. I had no patience for those false trappings.

Tavington leaned back, cradling me in his arms. He slid his legs beneath me and leaned further backwards upon the bed. His fingertips caressed my body and I moved it against his. His hands grasped my breasts firmly and I arched my back, pressing into his skilled ministrations with determination. I rode him slowly at first, and then my hands firmly fixed themselves to his chest for stability. My pace quickened and it was his turn to open his mouth in a silent scream of ecstasy. He could barely move against me as my thighs held him firm and my innermost muscular walls held him fast. His fingers tangled in my long auburn hair. I leaned down and kissed him furiously, tugging at his tongue and lips. We moved in synchronicity, our bodies remained locked for several hours as we explored a variety of other positions with surprising enthusiasm. And just at that point in the day after the darkest moment before the dawn, we were coupled together, he on top, his teeth biting into my shoulder and mine into his in an effort to stifle the vocalizations of our rapture, we climaxed together in victory.

Tavington lay down next to me, one arm absently around me and the other at his side. I pressed into him sensuously, leaving one hand to dance upon his chest luxuriously.

Tavington's soft yet deep voice filled the void, "And the situation now?"

I glanced towards the window where daylight would soon be breaking way, rendering a noncommittal response. "I must return to my own estate." I briefly kissed him on the lips before sliding out of bed and slipping on my clothes.

He leaned up on his elbow and watched me with great interest. Was he surprised I preferred to waste no time on senseless pillow talk, I wondered. "You should have won that chess game," Tavington remarked.

I paused briefly and glanced up at him from tying my boot laces, "Then perhaps we should have a rematch. I trust you know where I live?"

"I'll find you." He smiled.

I resumed my lacing, "Excellent. I look forward to receiving you then." I drew on my cloak and pulled the hood up over my head.

Tavington captured my hand in his and drew it to his lips. "Until then, Countess."

I smiled and slipped out of his quarters and out of the estate. Just beyond Cornwallis' estate, my coach was waiting for me. I fell into the velvet-covered seat, my fingers playing absently with my hair and a smile of satisfaction spreading across my visage. My loins ached and I knew my legs would be very sore in the morrow from tonight's lusty activity. Tavington may yet prove to be a needed distraction. I returned to my own estate, which was just rising for another day. I proceeded to my bedchamber where I slept for several hours prior to continuing with my own life and routine as it was at that time.

In the evening, after dinner, Marcus found me in my study. He closed the door behind him. I waved for him to pour himself and myself a drink. He gifted me with a glass of brandy and sat down in the chair opposite my massive oak desk where I sat -- an acquisition from a financially burdened family not so long ago.

"So?" Marcus inquired with a gossip hungry tone, his eyes flickering like a schoolboy.

"The Colonel is certainly promising," I smiled wickedly, "In fact, he is most delectable. Both his mental and bedchamber skills are equally honed and adroit. I must have him at least once more."

"I must admit I'm not overly surprised. Both of you have a history and a reputation mired in both mystery and passion for your respective careers. Would you like me to dispatch any spies?"

"Not at this time. We'll see how this plays out." I was confident Tavington had no more ulterior motives than I. Objectivity would serve me best at this juncture. And if he was indeed a worthy adversary, he would detect such machinations and this could ultimately work against me. I definitely wanted to taste Colonel Tavington again.

And on the following day, early in the afternoon, Colonel Tavington did come calling. I was in the study, at my desk reviewing some notes regarding potential future land acquisitions when the door opened and Colonel Tavington was announced. He stood tall in his loyalist finery, and very proud. His presence was very commanding and almost awe inspiring. I could see why so many feared him. However, such unconscious trappings merely served as an invitation where I was concerned.

"Colonel Tavington, so nice of you to come by." I smiled and waved my servant away. He withdrew, closing the doors behind him.

"I trust I'm not intruding upon anything of importance." Tavington stepped into the room, doubtlessly caring if his intrusion was unwanted.

I stepped out from behind my desk, "Of course not. Would you care for a drink?"

"Thank you," he slid towards me and I poured us each of glass of brandy. We seated ourselves upon my firm couch facing one another. Finally he looked at me and inquired, "Why?"

I wasn't about to insult his intelligence -- I could see it was vast. "Why not?" I quipped and then quickly followed up with, "You intrigue me."

"And when I'm no longer intriguing?" Tavington wished to know the heart of my reasoning behind casting off previous lovers - did he genuinely wish to avoid that fate -- and was that ego or out of sincere interest in my person?

"I doubt that will ever happen. There's a depth to you akin to my own." I replied seriously, finding a pang in my chest I'd never felt before. The mirror reflects both ways, "And I could ask you the same question -- why?"

"You are unlike any one I have ever encountered." He confessed truthfully. Like me, I believe he suffered from the same affliction - blatant honesty in all situations. It left us vulnerable and searching for defenses of intimidation to repel those who would take advantage of our truthful natures.

"And when you feel you know me?" I countered in the same vein as he had with me.

Tavington smiled, "I will rejoice and look forward to an interesting journey."

Silence gripped us both. There was a certain gravity in our words. What had begun as a harmless game and possible passing fancy was transformed without our consent or knowledge -- until now. We were both rooted in intellect, emotion an afterthought. And now, it appears we were both vexed by a state of mind meeting heart. It was a realm we found no comfort in. We both quickly drained our glasses and set them aside, searching for a means to vanquish this uncomfortable state plaguing both of our psyches.

In desperation, we set upon each other with physical ferocity. I removed his hat and unbound his hair so it fell over his shoulders -- black tendrils amidst a shock of red from his uniform. Tavington speedily unclasped the topmost buttons of my bodice and lifted one of my nipples to his mouth. I leaned back upon the couch, losing my fingers in his silken hair. As his mouth and teeth worked my nipples, his hands worked beneath my skirt. He pulled my bloomers down over my ankles and boots. Moans escaped my lips -- much louder now since I was in my own surroundings and my staff knew well enough not to enter upon hearing such emanations. Tavington did not seem to mind and transferred his attentions to my other nipple. He lifted one of my legs over to one side against the back of the couch and the other to the opposite side with my foot upon the floor. He pushed my skirts up over my knees and to my waist. His hands cupped my breasts as his head lowered between my parted legs. Slowly, tentatively, I felt his moist firm tongue against my partially shaven mound. His fingers expertly played upon my nipples while his tongue danced to a different tune. It was not long before a passionate cry of victory erupted from my throat. Tavington ceased his ministrations moments before I would have had to beg him to stop.

Tavington leaned over me, his lips crashing onto mine -- my taste in his mouth. My hands slid to the back of his head, forcing him into me in desperate hunger. He freed one hand and slid it down across my thigh between my legs. He slid two fingers into my wetness, withdrew them, and lifted them between us to my lips. My tongue darted out as I caught his gaze with mine -- I sucked his fingers into my mouth, reveling in my own sweet taste.

My hands flew to the buttons of his trousers. Deftly they pried his trousers open. I felt him in my hands, so very hard. Tavington shifted as if to enter me and I stiffened against him. He paused, and I pushed him back in the other direction of the couch so he now lay upon his back and I sat forward. His fingers tangled in my hair, moving the strands so he could see clearly my actions, and I lowered my mouth over his hardness. I could not believe the sounds I wrenched from him as my lips and tongue moved expertly over his head and shaft while my fingers worked the underside. It was not long before I felt that jet stream enter my mouth -- I drank back the nectar and very gently licked any remains. I slid onto the floor next to the couch and leaned my head over Tavington's. His eyes, like mine, were glazed over in passion and momentary satiation.

He looked up at me with a question on his mind that he could not speak aloud for fear of retribution by myself. Was that respect, I pondered? Tavington was a complex soul.

I smiled and answered the question I knew was on his mind, "When I was 15 years old, my father's mistress, one of Vienna's most prominent courtesans, at my request, taught me many things -- that was one of them. I have since refined the technique, and created many others I hope to share with you."

"Most women don't enjoy giving such pleasure." Tavington remarked seriously.

"Such pleasure can swing both ways. And it is not always simply about pleasure," I smiled wickedly.

"Control..." Tavington comprehended quickly.

"Precisely," I grinned deliciously. "And most men do not enjoy the oral arts."

"As you so adroitly put it -- it goes both ways and there is the issue of control. And might I add, your taste is the sweetest I have partaken of."

"Tavington, you speak all the right words, I would almost mistake you for a diplomat." I jibed.

He mocked a frown and partially jested, "Never -- I am but a blood thirsty soldier."

And so the afternoon proceeded, we continued to disclose our innermost thoughts and experiences to one another. We found many similarities in reference to subjects such as politics, religion and many other matters often left unsaid in polite company. We shared an openness and honesty devoid of so many of our other relationships. I could see the brutality often spoken of regarding Tavington, but it had a purpose - as did mine. For both of us, it appeared that our desire for efficiency was often misunderstood to be cold calculation, and the administration of certain tactics to be brutality. The truth was, neither one of us paid much heed to the perceptions and results of our actions -- an admittedly shortsighted stance and one difficult to change.

Tavington remained for a dinner of pheasant that we dined upon in the smaller dining room of my estate. We drank copious amounts of wine and after dinner played another game of chess in my parlour whereupon I won fairly - albeit with difficulty. I knew I would not always be so lucky.

Tavington rose from his chair, his mind no longer on the lost game of chess, and stood before me with cool blue eyes ravishing me in one thought. He was about to kneel down when my hands flew to the buttons of his trousers. Once more I loosened them and gathered him in my mouth before any stiffness could overcome him. I glanced up at him to see the pleasure spread across his face. He rested his hands on my shoulders. My hands worked up under his tunic and my fingers found his nipples. He gasped and shifted as I coaxed him firmly. I continued my ministrations for a time until my jaw almost ached from the activity. I slid up and kneeled on the couch with my back to Tavington whereupon he lifted my skirts and entered me from behind in one single quick thrust. A short burst of a scream wrenched from my lips in appreciation. Thankfully the couch was heavy enough to withstand the energetic movements the fierce coupling that ensued. As the night progressed, our clothes found their way to the floor, and our bodies all over the parlor not a surface or region was spared our sensual gymnastics.

At one point we were on the floor before the fireplace, beads of sweat glistening in the firelight, our chests rising and falling quickly in near exhaustion. Our breathless mouths closed over one another in ecstasy, gradually giving way to relaxation. We lay coupled before the fireplace, talking to one another of the human condition. Never before had I been so candid with any one as I was with Tavington and I believe he was experiencing the same, for I was not aware he had a reputation for verbosity. Before the heat of the fireplace, intellectual conversation gave way to drowsiness and a more superficial conversation.

Tavington traced an index finger over the scar upon my right shoulder -- it was approximately two inches in length and quite aged. "You don't strike me as the clumsy type." Tavington remarked, his eyes tender.

I smiled, "No. I'm not. Once upon a time I participated in the practice of fencing. I was a stubborn student, often believing I could do better than my instructors." I feared the discussion was heading into more personal territory than I wished at this time. Effecting distraction, I inquired, "And what about your scars? They are not very old -- all are from recent entanglements."

"Soldiering is only a recent occupation. Prior to that I practiced law."

"I see the connection," I commented with a wry smile to which he chuckled softly. "You soldier well for a man of the bar -- never having lost a battle."

"I stand by my reputation which I've forged for myself... alone." Tavington suddenly appeared lost in thought as though he were appraising his recent actions. He returned to the present with a satisfied smile upon his visage.

"Some would say your reputation is flecked with heavy handed tactics."

Tavington stared directly into my eyes and without missing a beat replied, "And yours is not?"

"Touche. They are a means to an end." I smiled, confident in my actions, feeling no remorse.

"Ahhh, so you wish to own the Southern half of the continent?" Tavington grinned wickedly as though searching for my purpose.

"I'll settle for South Carolina -- for the moment." My eyes fluttered in exhaustion and Tavington relaxed against me.

And it was there before the dying fire we fell asleep, satiated both physically and mentally.

In the morning, my servants drew us both a bath, which we partook of prior to eating breakfast in a state of complete ease. So began our relationship in earnest. We met whenever we could, often conversing, sometimes playing chess and many times making love.

And then the day came where Tavington was sent farther away on a short campaign against a small group of Continentals. It would be some time before I saw him again. Missing him, although receiving his letters of passion, I set about with a plan to visit him.

I acquired the uniform of a Lieutenant in General Cornwallis' army. This would not be the first time I will have used disguise myself. I bound myself carefully into the uniform, tied my hair back carefully and placed it under the uniform's hat. I adorned my face with a thin mustache and I easily passed as a young man. I saddled a horse in military fashion and rode out to where I knew Tavington's dragoons was camped. It was early evening and the outer guard received me. I explained I had a message specifically for Colonel Tavington from General Cornwallis. I was pointed to the tent in which I could find Colonel Tavington.

I dismounted the horse and entered the tent to find eight men, including Colonel Tavington, partaking of a game of poker -- it appeared to be in its infancy. Colonel Tavington looked in my direction and scrutinized me blatantly, as though to intimidate. I moved to Colonel Tavington's side and handed him what appeared to be a dispatch. He continued to eye me warily and opened the dispatch reading quite simply "As you wish, invite me to stay or ask me to leave. Lieutenant Smith."

Tavington folded the dispatch after some time of consideration, looked up at me knowingly and said "Thank you, Lieutenant Smith. Would you care to join our game?"

I bowed and replied, "I would, thank you." I spoke in a lowered tone of voice but soft nonetheless.

The men made room for me at the table and I produced some coins with which to play the game. Introductions went around and I avoided any personal questions with my honed verbal diversion tactics. It quickly became apparent Tavington and I were of equal skill in the game of poker -- much as we were of equal skill in the game of chess.

Amidst the gossip mongering ritualistically engaged in by the soldiers, one of Tavington's men finally approached the subject and spoke brazenly, "Colonel, does the Countess mind your being away?"

Tavington replied immediately and firmly, "You know I do not gossip or feed such gossip. My personal relationships are my own."

Another interjected, "That is precisely it, Colonel. With all due respect, we have never known you to have a personal relationship with anyone before. No disrespect is intended. We understand the Countess is a very honorable woman." The man obviously feared reprimand and was backpedaling clumsily.

"She has many admirable traits," Tavington remarked quietly and announced another win.

Eventually, the pot was split between Tavington and myself almost equally with Tavington boasting the slightly larger amount of coins. The men became somewhat nervous, knowing Tavington lost to very few individuals -- and never to a Lieutenant.

After I won another hand, tipping the tenuous balance of the game thus far, Tavington announced to an unnerved group of soldiers, "I believe the game is at an end, gentlemen." He rose from his chair dramatically and stalked around the table towards my seat. His men cleared the way for him quickly and situated themselves at a healthy distance. They feared Tavington would strike me down but none would say a word. Silence fell around us like a funeral shroud. Tavington glared down at me, "The charade is over," Tavington reached down with his hands and picked me up by the collar of my jacket.

"Colonel Tavington, do you think this is wise?" I countered with a wry smile, to which his men gasped. Tavington had no patience for insolence.

"Sometimes passion must give way to wisdom, Lieutenant." Tavington remarked. We stared at one another with mock hostility, obscuring the underlying desire and humor only we could discern. His men were frozen in their places, observing with intense interest and fear. Tavington's mouth suddenly crashed against mine. The silence was deafening. Tavington pulled my body into his, tilting my head back whereupon my hat fell to the floor. I reached behind my head and unbound my long auburn hair -- all the while embraced in a most ardent kiss with Colonel Tavington. Hushed murmurs spread across his men. Tavington released me, and I shook out my hair further. Tavington placed an arm around my waist and announced, "Gentlemen, allow me to introduce you to Countess von Schreck."

I turned to the men and bowed deeply out of respect. They tentatively smiled, uncertain what had just transpired in its entirety, and bowed in return. I snatched my hat from the floor.

Tavington smiled, "And now, if you'll excuse me, I must teach this brash Lieutenant some manners." He picked me up in his arms and carried me out of the tent. Behind us we heard the men softly cheering for their commanding officer's good fortune of not having to spend another night alone. Tavington carried me to his own tent, informing his personal guard to allow no entrance. Tavington set me down and scrutinized me carefully. "Very convincing..."

"Thank you."

"In fact, the uniform suits you extremely well. I particularly like the false mustache." Tavington drew me into his arms.

We kissed hungrily and I hastened to unbutton his waistcoat and free his shirt. My fingers flew up across his chest. His teeth grazed my neck and I groaned. His mouth sought out mine with intense fury. He pulled me behind his makeshift desk and held my arms at my sides.

"Remarkable. You could easily pass for a young Lieutenant." Tavington grinned like the devil, the twitch in his eye surfaced, and he asked with grave intonations. "The question is, can you do more than visually pass?" And his mouth crashed down upon mine in a frenzy.

I tried to move my hands, but he held them fast, an air of determination overcoming him. He turned me around expediently so I faced his desk. His hands left mine and I felt them at my waist and then at the buttons of my trousers. When I tried to move my hands upwards to caress him, he slapped my hands down and that is where they remained. There was ferocity in his actions causing me to tremble in delight. He roughly released all the buttons of my trousers and pushed them down my legs. He raked his nails up my thighs and took my forearms in his hands. He moved them out before me and then bent me over the desk. He bent my elbows so my forearms were tucked beneath my forehead comfortably. He kicked my feet apart -- as far as they would go given the circumstances. I felt the cold buttons of his trousers against my hot flesh as he unfurled his own trousers. I heard his trousers slide over his legs. His hands caressed my buttocks and my thighs in anticipation. For a moment I feared he would penetrate me as he would another man -- that I could not do without preparation...especially a man of his endowment. He gripped my thighs and spread them apart. I felt his flesh enter my own, and my body sighed. When I tried to move against him, he slapped my buttocks in reprimand. He very obviously wanted to be in complete control and so I gave it to him...quite willingly, knowing the tables would turn another day. I sank into the desk and into the heady experience. Much as Tavington sank deeply into me and very quickly drew out such cries from my throat...these I muffled into my forearms.

Tavington's movements became fiercer, and he reached with his hands to my wrists. These he brought back at my sides and then bound them together into one of his large hands behind me at my back. The side of my face, my collarbone and my shoulders, rested uncomfortably on the hard desk. A few more times I attempted to thrust back against him in absolute ecstasy -- and each time he slapped me hard across the buttocks. With his other hand he reached forward and wrapped his fingers gently around my neck. I tossed my head back to receive him completely and subjugate myself entirely. My breathing slowed, I became euphoric. His thighs slapped hard against mine. My knees were beginning to buckle, his grip on my neck tightened, as did his grip on my wrists. My entire body tensed in one of the most incredible sensual releases ever -- just as he tensed and came deep inside of me.

He relaxed his grasp of my throat and I gasped for air. He released my wrists and caught my body as it began to slump downwards. He gathered me up in his arms and very gently laid me on his cot. He slid my trousers up and pulled his blanket over top of me lovingly. Tavington pulled his own trousers up and then knelt on the floor next to me. He caressed my hair.

I gazed into his eyes and could see a flicker of worry for revealing this side of himself to me. I smiled, "Thank you. It was absolutely divine...decadent...I'd like to do that again sometime."

He smiled and sighed with relief inwardly, sensing my sincerity. He laid his head on my chest and looked into my eyes and spoke softly in confession, "I'm falling deeply in love with you."

"And I you." I tangled my fingers in his jet hair. We could speak no further of such emotional and intimate thoughts. We did not know how. And so I added, with a wry smile on my lips, "Just remember, I can give as good as I receive."

He chuckled and rolled his icy eyes playfully, "I wouldn't want it any other way."

I caressed his face lovingly, our eyes softened.

"Thank you for coming all this way to be with me. I truly appreciate that." Tavington's tone was strained and hesitant, unsure of the emotional whirlwind capturing us both.

"I was missing you terribly. I've never missed anyone in my life -- except for my father." I confessed.

"I have never wanted to be with anyone as I want to be with you."

Silence descended. We found ourselves slaves to a foreign emotional state. At least it was a journey we were willing to take together. My eyes fluttered in exhaustion and we soon fell asleep.

The following morning, Tavington had breakfast brought to his tent for the both of us. He told me of the day's agenda to search for a particularly problematic group of Continentals. He told me if I so desired, I could remain in the camp. I nodded and we kissed briefly before he departed to his men.

I abhorred idleness -- particularly in myself. I was not prepared to sit around and wait. I bound my hair up, tucked it beneath my hat and reaffixed my false mustache. Once Tavington and a small arsenal of green dragoons left, I followed at a safe distance, undetected, on my own horse. Later that afternoon, the Continentals they were searching for ambushed Tavington's forces. The odds were against them, like so many other battles before. But Tavington and his men were extraordinarily well-trained. They fought with ferocity and slaughtered the Continentals around them almost clinically. Towards the end of the short-lived battle, Tavington was thrown from his horse and was fighting off five Continentals on his own -- his recuperative abilities were incredible. His men were otherwise engaged and unable to lend aid.

I rode hard into the skirmish shifting my focus from the brilliant red dervish crowned in a black feathered hat to the men who vexed him, freeing my sword from its scabbard and cutting down two of the Continentals with precision. I leapt from my horse as Tavington eliminated another opponent, his visage fiercely passionate about the matter. Two were remaining. Tavington quickly butchered another with ease and I faced the last one - a large man who was appeared fairly well skilled. Tavington observed with an almost salacious smile as I expertly danced around and fought the last with a style unlike any he had seen before. My opponent and I exchanged several blows, but his movements were predictable -- not the adversary I had hoped for, but one that would suffice. At last I had a perfect opportunity to vanquish him -- I struck a balanced pose, drew my sword arm out and then plunged it forward, burying the sword blade into my opponent's throat right to the hilt. I stared right into his disbelieving eyes, the edges of my lips curled in satisfaction as I watched his life force drain away. With one of my feet I pushed him off my sword, twisting the blade cruelly along the way, and observed the body slump to the ground, his shocked visage locked in place.

I faced Tavington, a devilish grin on my face -- one that he shared. He and I were both well acquainted with the bloodlust of battle and the hunger was indeed upon us. Delivering death to another was an art form -- the killer like a paintbrush, and the style used like a palette. As with rendering any art, a rush of satisfaction pervaded every aspect of the soul...this was no different except this time the sensation was shared with another of like mind. My sword was covered in Continental blood. I ran my leather-gloved finger along its length, gathering the red warm liquid onto it. As I held Tavington's seductive gaze, I licked the blood off my glove. He walked towards me, a splattering of blood on his face as there surely was on mine. We were both breathless with battle and desire, our hearts beating wildly in our chests. He removed the glove from one of his hands and touched my face where I could feel the dampness of cooling blood. I captured his bloody fingers in my mouth and sucked hungrily. Our eyes would not avert from one another's. I dropped my sword and removed one of my own gloves. Similarly, I gathered blood from his face onto my fingers, which Tavington proceeded to suck cleanly. Such passion I could never have imagined to share with anyone. Our hands cradled one another's faces, and our mouths locked and bloodied tongues entwined in a kiss so pure that none could mar its deeper meaning.

We were momentarily completely unaware of our surroundings -- or perhaps we were extremely aware and did not care. All around us the dead and dying. All around us, Tavington's men looked on in shock, horror or curiosity. Some knew immediately who I was -- others were fraught with disbelief as their superior was witnessed in the throes of such an intimate act with a mustached young Lieutenant.

"I want to have you right now," I whispered breathless against his mouth, lust and bloodlust feeding the euphoria of the moment like kindling to a dying fire.

"I want to have you always and forever," Tavington replied with seriousness, seeking out my cold green eyes, touching his forehead to mine.

"That is a very long time." I felt a knot of ice form in my chest. Those foreign feelings I'd been keeping at bay were crashing against my steel tempered heart, breaking its resistance.

"It is. Would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?" his blue eyes widened as if lending me access to his soul, baring his innermost.

My eyes opened and softened. As serious as the question was, so was my response, "Yes. Yes, I would."

Our mouths crashed against one another's again. The copper taste of blood was disappearing. We hungered for more - an unquenchable thirst gripped us both. This was not the time or place for further exploration of this, what some would consider insidious, sojourn of lust. At last, we disengaged from our embrace, acknowledging our surroundings. Tavington's troops took the action as a sign to come forth and congratulate him on victory. I was introduced to those unknown to me. As I wiped the blood from my blade with the tattered coat of a deceased Continental, one of Tavington's men remarked to me, "I have never seen anyone fight like you. Where did you learn to fight like that?"

I smiled, "From my father. He was a professional mercenary. He passed on to me techniques taught to him by men from many parts of the world. Like him, I take what works best for any given situation." I bowed in courtesy for the compliment.

Once the remainder of the work was accomplished, we mounted our horses and returned to Tavington's camp. Tavington and I rode side-by-side and conversed for much of the short journey back. We mostly discussed schooling in the art of warfare and how I came to use the variety of weapons I was able to use. He shared with me his similar experiences and dissertations on the benefits and hazards regarding the various implements of battle he had experienced in his career.

Once at the camp, Tavington dictated some memos and I wandered off to the nearby river to cleanse myself and consider the state of my heart. I removed my clothing, and entered the river. The cool water was soothing and I wondered if this was all real. Tavington's and my relationship took on a life of its own and it frightened me to be out of control. On the other hand, there was a delicious quality in surrendering to such emotions and situations. Could I truly spend the remainder of my life with Tavington? On serious reflection, I knew I could. Given our proclivities, either one of us could perish tomorrow or any other time in the near future. Here we were given an opportunity of a lifetime and I believe neither of us wished to squander it. To deny these encapsulating desires would be a lie to ourselves - and to one another. And there was nothing more disdainful than a lie.

Shortly after my conclusions regarding our relationship, I observed Tavington saunter down the bank towards me. I watched as he disrobed and entered the water. He swam towards me with slow languid strokes. He was a deliberate man, at complete ease with himself.

"All done for the day?" I asked, smiling.

"Yes. A courier was just dispatched with the latest news for Cornwallis. Thank you for your assistance today." He gathered me into his arms affectionately.

"I was pleased to be of help. It has been a long time since I have been able to use those talents. I wasn't sure how you would respond to my intrusion on the battlefield." I wrapped my arms around him, digging my fingertips into his powerful shoulders.

"Observing you fight was very exhilarating." Tavington whispered almost seductively, sliding his fingers over my false mustache and then my lips, "You are a very passionate and seemingly accomplished warrior." His teeth fell to my neck momentarily.

I melted into his arms and we folded into a kiss. Our bodies joined in slow sensuous lovemaking. Just as we had peaked in unison, a courier was speeding down the bank clumsily calling out Tavington's name frantically. We both swam to the shore and exited the water. While a naked Tavington did not seem to affect the courier, the courier was quite shocked at my naked form...and, in all likelihood, the facial hair conflicting my gender. Tavington did not seem to care and continued dressing. I likewise began dressing. Prior to putting on the shirt, I used a stretch fabric to bind my breasts closely against my chest. Then I added some padding just below to give the illusion I was slightly larger than I was -- and also to lend credence to the image I was a man.

"That's how you did it," Tavington remarked in passing, sliding into his boots. The previous night's activities exhausted me to the point where I did not disrobe prior to falling into sleep, and therefore he was unable to witness the full extent of my disguise until now.

I smiled briefly in acknowledgement. The courier was very obviously uncomfortable. Once our attire was loosely assembled, Tavington took the dispatch from the courier who quickly vacated the riverbank in gratitude. "What is it?" I asked once I knew he'd read its contents.

"I'm to move my troops to join another of Cornwallis' forces. Not for several days yet -- it still gives me some time here to ensure we exterminated the lingering Continentals in this vicinity." Tavington looked at me gravely, "Your presence here is very welcome - Lieutenant."

He stuffed the dispatch into his jacket and offered his arm to me. He knew my response and it need not be vocalized. I took his arm and we walked towards his camp. While we would probably never find peace with the world around us, at least we could do so with one another.

A scholar once said 'to seize the day and the moment -- for tomorrow the past is behind us and incapable of modification'. Words to live by, and also words to die by. Death and its influence were not unknown to me. But I dare not conceive of my reactions should Tavington be slain on the battlefield - especially if I were not there to possibly prevent the tragedy.

End of Part 1 (The Mirror Unveiled)

To be continued in Part 2 (The Mirror Cracks)

Copyright 2001 Xandria (xandria@akasa.bc.ca)

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