Captured [The Patriot Fanfic] ON HOLD

Chapter 5: Judith

Captain James Wilkins sat in silence as he offered a thin piece of cloth to blot her eyes. Blythe's eyes stung from her blistering cries. Her throat was sore, swollen and stripped raw from her constant petrified cries. Blythe gulped cautiously, careful not to agitate her tender throat.

"Captain Wilkins." A soft voice started at the crevice of the bedroom door. Her accent was soft and she peered innocently through the sliver of the opening. "You have requested me, have you not?" She added in question.

"Yes Judith, under my orders please tend to Lady-" He paused for a moment and turned to the russet curled teen for her name.

"Blythe, Blythe Avery."

"Lady Avery. Do fetch a dress and what ever may be left in the kitchen. " He ordered. Blythe's eyes twitched with confusion, James didn't have an accent nor was he as harsh as she thought he would be.

"Yes sir. Lady Avery, I shall return." She turned and made her exit.

James sighed for a moment as he placed his feathered helmet atop his lap. He took a moment to examine the calmness in Blythe's expression before pulling out a knife and signaling her to turn around. She exhaled deeply as she could feel the twiny yet thick flesh-cutting rope being slit free from her bleeding skin.

"I apologize for your imprisonment." He initiated an apology after a few moments of silence.

"But I thank you." Blythe retorted with gratefulness.

"It is my honor my lady."

Blythe stared down at her wrists, equally numb as the rest of her body. Fresh blood still surfaced from her depleted pale skin.

"Captain Wilkins? Lady Avery? I have returned." Judith peered through, her hands held a large basin and a pitcher. Her skin was pale and her hair was fancied neatly into a bun. A few strands of her bleach blonde hair protruded for emphasis, a dingy apron was tied around her waist and the sage long-sleeved dress she wore concealed even her slippers.

James stood up, securing his helmet underneath his arm. He gave a nod towards Blythe as he grazed a hand over his hair all pulled back into a discrete tie.

"I best be leaving. Lady Harrington, take care of her now." A smile came over his face as he departed from the room, leaving young Blythe in the hands of Judith who carefully eased the door shut to provide privacy.

"Here let us get you out of that attire." Judith shyly started, eyeing the russet curled teen in her modern-day waitress garb.

"Judith, I do apologize for my presence." Blythe retorted as she eyed her now provocative clothing.

"Don't be dear. It must be a new trend of some sort." Judith's voice was soft as she helped Blythe out of the collared dress until a sudden, frightened gasp escaped her mouth.

"Lady Avery, dear Heavenly Father what has happened?" She sounded flabbergasted turning her towards the full-body mirror as she stood in her minimal-padded bra and nylons, until her eyes caught hold of a pinkened, fibrous tree-like scar that wrapped around her stomach and diagonally across her back, and Blythe knew it could only be one thing... The bolt of lightning...

"Oh my..." 

"Dear, what had happened?"

" I was stricken by lightning." Blythe attempted to acquire the dialect as she eyed Judith who poured water into the basin with such grace, the bleach blonde servant's hazel eyes widened ; stunned.

"Oh dear Lady Avery-"

"Please do call me Blythe."

Judith exhaled as she rolled up her sage long-sleeves. "Blythe, how ever are you not in any pain?"

"I am." She traced her index finger over the dried blood on her neck and eyed the two splinters that were jabbed into the hinge of her elbow.

Judith stared down and her eyes grew dark with sympathy for the russet-haired prisoner.

"My apologies..."

"What for?"

"How Tavington imprisoned an innocent girl like yourself. He is ever so quick to judge the American race." Judith stated as Blythe turned to unhook her bra and peel off her nylons, she covered with a folded sheet atop the bed.

"You sure got that right." Blythe vented.

Judith wrung out a small cloth from the basin, placing it upon Blythe's agonizingly afflicted flesh; alleviating the much hurt after being knocked about for a good part of this miserable day by the many obnoxious Dragoons, especially the callous hand of Colonel Tavington. Blythe exhaled breezily as the warm water flooded over her skin, a peaceful bliss.

"You poor girl, he should not  have treated you so."

"I know...I know..." Blythe closed her eyes, wanting to hang on to the peace that made way over her. That is until it came time to dress accordingly, when the wind was knocked out of Blythe's lungs as Judith fixed a bow behind the corset that compressed Blythe's gaunt-like physique. 

"Is it too tight?"

Blythe bit her tongue, not wanting to have the young English servant re-do that compressing shaper. She nodded horizontally as she donned the simple floral-vined dress over the many defining underlayers provided by Judith.

"Why are you so silent?" She questioned, placing a mild hand atop Blythe's shoulder.

"I cannot believe I am imprisoned." Blythe buried her face in her hands, controlling the tears that wanted to flow.

"I could only wish and pray I could help you. I dread being under the eyes of the Colonel." Her porcelain face flushed to a whiter pallor in saying so. "I am unsure if whether you have heard or not-" Judith paused. "Every soldier around here has prattled on of his reputation. Those senseless actions of his, and his deviating manipulation. Lord Cornwallis and O'Hara have recently established the nickname the Butcher upon him."

Upon hearing, Blythe's eyes shut tightly with unease. A knot of anxiety formed in the pit of her stomach, fearing the many possible tactics Tavington could do to a girl like her. She swore if she heard anymore of this cold-blooded colonel, she was bound to lose her sanity.

"Blythe." Captain Wilkins' voice called outside the shut door.

Judith arose and permitted him to enter. Her face flushed with scintillating rose tinting her cheeks.

"Yes Sir."

"The Colonel has requested you join him along with the rest at dinner tonight."

Blythe's eyebrows knitted closer together in pure and utter disgust.

"James, I am sorry but I will pass on that offer."

"Pass?" He sounded with perplexity.

"I refuse. Do let him know."

This Tavington is twisted as hell if he thinks I'll dine with him. One, he arrests me. Two, he has slapped me around long enough for a good half of the day, not only him but his men. Three, you lock me in your bedroom as if I'm another sex toy of yours. In fact, I wonder how many whores slept in this bed. Now you really expect me to dine with you after you imprisoned me? What do I honestly look like? Your new escort? Give me a damn break.  She thought to herself.

"My Lady that is not the wisest decision."

Blythe's azure eyes rolled about, still slightly burning from the blistering cries. She emitted a groan as she stood reluctantly. "Fine." She stated abruptly as she fixed her hair.  "James, take me down."

His head bowed and he spread a slanted smile at her. His face was smooth with not so much prominent detail.

"You will be fine my lady." He whispered to her as he escorted her down the stairs.