The Ember In The Storm (undergoing editing)

Part III

  Elizabeth flinched, covering her ears with her palms. "Jackson! What's going on?" She watched him curse and run towards her, gunshots ringing again in her ears as he grabbed for his jacket, taking a handgun out and another from a drawer.

"Hell, it is an attack", he said, a little too calmly than she liked.

"Attack!?"

"Shhhh", he urged, looking around the room thoughtfully. "You have to hide".

Before she could ask where, Jackson pushed and pulled her back towards his wardrobe, not needing to move his clothes as there were little. "What are you doing?"

"Elizabeth, you need to hide here, you might be safe and I will come back—"

"Come back?" She furrowed her brows. "You are leaving? No, no, no. You stay here. Jackson don't go", she pulled him inside, looking for space for both of them. He was huge and there was no hope of him fitting in.

"Elizabeth—"

"We can both stay here, please", she pleaded gripping onto his shirt with tears in her eyes. He stepped out and stood ahead of her. She cried more. "They h-have Roman—"

"I have to go. I promise I will return as soon as I can", he explained. "Just promise me too that you will stay here?"

She nodded violently and he gave a small frail smile of appreciation before bringing his hand behind her head and pulling her in for a kiss. It was sloppy from all the tears and emotions within them and yet it was the purest one. Their first kiss with assurance of both their love for each other. Their first.

Elizabeth wanted him to stay like that with her, like that until the guns died down and everything sinful stopped within the world. And maybe, just maybe, the two of them could have all the time in the world to lay in bed all day and talk away until dawn.

Jackson wanted that too, she knew he did. Despite this, he still pulled away, holding her face in his hands and watching her hand reach for his as well. He was warm.

"Stay here", was the last thing he said to her, closing the doors on her. The space was small and dark, Jackson's scent lingering in the air due to his clothes beside her.

Elizabeth turned to her side and sat with her legs folded up. She leaned against the thin wall and rested her head against the other wall, watching Jackson leave the room through the small peep holes on the doors and slamming it behind.

She heard more gunshots, more and more. This reminded her of that night... the night in Richmond. Those screams and cries. She could not hear them here and now as she did then. All she heard were gunshots and horses neighing, also a few shouts back and forth from Roman and Jackson.

What if they were out numbered? She thought with horror. What then? What so?

The bloody image of her mothers face in a pool of her own blood flashed across her mind and she had to hold her mouth to prevent herself from screaming at it. Jackson promised to return, he should have returned to her.

He did not promise to return alive though. A voice said within her. Once again, Elizabeth was useless in a critical situation and she did what she did best, cry silently.

The cabin door slammed open once more and Elizabeth stood to her feet in attempt to open the door and run out for Jackson's return before realizing the man ahead was not her husband. She resisted.

God, he was not even his troops.

She pressed a hand to her mouth, silencing her sharp quick breaths as she watched him analyze the room first and make his way towards the bedside drawer, opening it and shuffling through inside quickly. He mumbled incoherently to himself and stood briskly, running towards Jackson's working table next to the wardrobe, there all his maps, letters and other significant papers lay open in their glory.