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A winter's tale	By : darkangel985 Category: S through Z > Sleepy Hollow Views: 18378 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Sleepy Hollow, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
Title: A winter's tale
Author: darkangel985
Summary: Now
that he has got his head back the Hessian is free to pursue something
else.
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Horseman/Ichabod
Feedback:
desired.
Beta: I don't have one at the moment, but if anyone wants
to take on the job, feel free to contact me.
Author’s notes:
When I first saw this pairing I thought 'yuck', but then I read a
story about them and really liked it. Plus I immediately had a new
plot bunny dancing in my head that I just
had to write. Translations to the German words I use can be found at
the end of the chapters. And now: Please enjoy.
Disclaimer: I
don't own any of the characters or places mentioned in this story. I
neither intend any copyright infringement, nor do I make money by
writing this.

Chapter 1 – Taken and returned

Saratoga, 1777:

Friedrich Reitsch absentmindedly patted
Daredevil's black mane while he looked over at Georg von Berger, his
longtime friend and lover. The younger man's pale face was
illuminated by the scarce light of the autumn sun, hiding behind
thick rain clouds. Piercing dark eyes swung around to question him
with an amused gaze that he just answered with a slight smile.

The sounds of fighting were carried up to the hill, where the
small portion of Hessian soldiers stood, Friedrich and Georg at their
very front. Once again marveling at his
lover's bravery Friedrich waited for the dark-eyed youth to give the
command for riding into battle.

He may be the older and the real soldier amongst the two of them,
but Georg was in command of the troops,
having come to America to fulfill his
sister's biding. Friedrich had merely followed his lover here,
concerned for the younger man's safety.
After all he was a scholar
and not a soldier, his lithe body telling of hours spend pouring over
books rather than training with a sword. Even now he wasn't as
comfortable on his horse as his older companion
to whom he turned for help.

Friedrich answered the question before it was even asked, knowing
his lover well enough to understand his gaze: “Wir reiten auf
deinen Befehl.”(1)

Nodding Georg whirled his horse around, facing the fierce-looking,
battle-hardened Hessian soldiers and raising his sword in a silent
command. Almost moving like a single body the army raised their
swords too, loud battle cries telling their readiness for blood shed.
It was fascinating to watch experienced soldiers follow a scholar
into battle, but that was what Georg was like. Nobody could resist
his innocent determination. Friedrich himself was looking forward to
the battle, but he knew that Georg was not.

Having reassured himself of the troop's loyalty Georg turned back
towards his light-eyed lover, clasping his shoulder in what appeared
to be a friendly gesture. But there was far more meaning hidden
there, a plea to return save and a silent vow of love. His dark eyes
shone with worry and a slight sliver of fear, but Friedrich knew that
he wouldn't back away, no matter how scared he was.

Before Georg could take his hand away Friedrich whispered: “Gib
acht, mein Liebling.”(2)

He was once again answered with a slight smile and a sparkle
entering those dark eyes, before his lover pressed his heels into his
horse's sides and charged into battle. Immediately digging his spurs
into Daredevil's flanks Friedrich followed, raising his sword in
preparation. The rest of the Hessian soldiers was right behind them,
ready to accompany their two leaders to victory.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~+~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The battle was fierce, although their opponents weren't as
well-trained as them. Most of them were peasants, who had been given
a few lessons on fighting, but they fought as best as they could. And
other than the Hessians they weren't fighting for money, but for
their homes and their simple lives. It gave
some of them the strength to be worthy opponents for the German
soldiers.

Friedrich's blade was already dripping with the blood of countless
enemies as it met another soldier's sword, the sound of metal on
metal lost in the noise of the battle. Distracting the other soldier
with his blade he brought up his ax,
burying it in the other man's chest and throwing him off his horse.

He was about to drive Daredevil towards the next opponent, when a
loud cry of his name caused him to whirl around instead. The scene he
saw had him urging the black war steed to run as fast as it could,
running down everyone that dared to step in his path, friend and foe
alike.

Never the best of riders Georg had fallen off his horse and was
locked in a fight with an American soldier, the other man clearly
having the advantage. Friedrich called to his lover to hold on, but
the words had barely left his mouth when the sword was already
knocked from Georg's hands. His opponent's blade sliced through his
chest, blood splattering from his mouth as he sank to the ground.

The cry of agony that forced itself out of Friedrich's mouth as he
saw Georg fall was lost in the noise of the continuing battle. It was
already too late when he reached the soldier who had killed his lover
and beheaded him with a single, powerful
thrust of his sword.

Pausing for a moment the Hessian looked down at his lover's blood
splattered corpse, lying in the mud of the battle field,
before reaching down and pulling him on top of Daredevil. Tears were
prickling in his eyes as he rode out of the battle, his desire to
fight drowned by the grief for his beloved Georg.

When he finally urged Daredevil to stop the sounds of the battle
were far away. Gently placing Georg on the dry grass Friedrich wiped
the blood from his pale cheeks, mourning his lost beauty. But beneath
his sadness a fierce anger was building, anger at the sister who had
sent Georg into battle although she knew that he was a scholar
rather than a soldier and at the God who had so cruelly taken the
only thing he valued.

Looking up at the heavens he screamed for his lover to be
returned, but silence was his only answer. Darkness descended on his
soul, life without Georg simply held no meaning in it. And so
Friedrich addressed the only other spirit he knew.

He asked the Devil to have Georg returned to him, offering his
servitude in life and beyond as payment. Having screamed his pledge
into the surrounding woods he waited. And as if to answer him thunder
suddenly rumbled overhead as heavy rain started to fall. Lightning
painted demonic visages into the darkening sky and Friedrich bowed in
acknowledgment. His request had been
granted. With a fierce cry he mounted Daredevil again, driving the
war steed towards the battle field.

And while his battle cry filled the darkening woods, the cry of a
baby filled the Crane household with unknown noise.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~+~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lady Crane cradled the tiny infant to her chest, while a servant
girl wiped away the last traces of blood that still clung to the
crying baby. Even though he had just been born she knew that her boy
would one day become a beautiful man. The dark mob of hair on his
head was a stark contrast to his pale skin and the gentle Lady was
immediately in love.

Lord Crane approached the bed with the reserved expression he
never seemed to shed, not even directing the slightest smile at his
wife or his child. “A boy. Good. He will be named Ichabod, in
honor of his Grandfather.”

Nodding her head the Lady had something to add, which she rarely
did when her stern, tyrannical husband had spoken: “I want his
second name to be George.” Why the name had suddenly entered
her head instead of the one she had originally chosen the Lady did
not know, but she trusted in the way fate showed her.

Usually Lord Crane would never acknowledge
any of his wife's suggestions, but for once he felt compelled to do
her biding. He had been given a heir after all. So he simply nodded
in his regal, reserved manner, before turning around and leaving his
wife to pet the small infant.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~+~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sleepy Hollow, 1779:

Friedrich stumbled towards the woods, snow and ice crunching under
his heavy riding boots. Cold was seeping into his exhausted body and
he knew that he wouldn't be able to outrun his pursuers forever. But
he was a warrior and that meant that he would not give up. It didn't
matter that his time in the mortal world seemed to have come to it's
close.

Friedrich had died the same day that Georg did, leaving behind a
cold mercenary who frightened not only his enemies, but also his
employers with his ruthlessness. Since his lover had taken his last
breath he had only lived to fulfill his
pledge, sending as many souls to their
deaths as he could. Each one of them brought him a little closer to
his damnation and his Georg.

As the soldiers finally caught up with him he fought them with all
his strenght, not because he thought that he would survive, but
wanting to take as many of them as he could with him. And then there
was the vertigo of entering the world of the dead as his head was
severed from his body.

TBC...

(1) “We ride on your command.”

(2) “Take care, my beloved.”
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A winter's tale