10A/N: Hi all and Happy New Year!
Well everyone, this would have been completed yesterday if it weren't for the fact I'm a perfectionist and didn't want to post the ending until I was absolutely certain I was satisfied.
I hope everyone has a blessed 2019! Please leave a review on your way out they truly are appreciated and they feed my writing muses for sure! I genuinely thank you for your time in reviewing and I hope you enjoy!
P.S. Just a little side note for those that may not be familiar with how drunk people "usually," behave. I am making a general statement, and every person that drinks is different however suffice it to say they are apt to ramble on and on.
That is all I'll say.
DISCLAIMER: Unfortunately, I still own nothing.
Chapter 3:
-….-….
Pocahontas could count very few times in her life where she had been utterly struck speechless.
Yet here she was, in a land she virtually knew nothing about. Standing near a man who just a few days prior she thought him dead. Incredibly, the same man she had just promised herself she would seek the very next morning in order to sort out their argument.
She gazed at his dripping form as he leaned against the wall, the way his cloak showed his broad shoulders, how the rain had plastered his blonde hair only to see wisps of it fall near his eyes as he tilted his head to look at her.
Dumbfounded, Pocahontas watched as he shuffled first one, then the other muddy boot across the floor. As she secured the balcony door, she had just enough time to stop him from crashing into her bureau.
"King James should give his enemies ale," John began as he grinned, "He would save much money getting rid of the tower and all those tools used for interrogation… Just give ale. Men always speak the truth. Men always reveal…"
"Thank you," he continued as he propped himself on the edge of the table in her sitting area. He then stood and proceeded to make his way towards the dressing table on the other side of the room. Fearing he would fall, Pocahontas ushered him towards the low bench.
"You are very nice," John Smith began as he shoved a hand through his sodden hair fully revealing his flushed visage, "I must say I am surprised. A lady usually makes someone else get the door. Ale… It has been my friend… It causes men to say things… I would give you some if I had any however… I do not think I have one to spare."
Pocahontas frowned as she threw up her hands in exasperation. Unable to speak, she signed with her hands before she shook her head and allowed a sigh of disbelief.
Finding her voice she inquired, "What, what, how did you, what are you doing here? Are you crazy?"
"If becoming ill on the side of a road, tearing my sleeve, seeing the woman I lo-, partaking in lots of ale, and climbing a wet wall make me crazy… Then yes, I would be crazy."
"Hush," Pocahontas said as she shook her head, "Hush."
"I will not," John said as he leaned forward over his knees, only to straighten up and laugh as his back hit into the dressing table, "I, I, well I, you see… How are the bears?"
"What is the matter with you? What are you talking about?"
"Ale, ale and bears," John Smith repeated as if it should be obvious, "Bears, Pocahontas bears. The baby ones and, and their mum."
"Oh," Pocahontas said as she blinked, "They are fine. They are no longer with their mother as she has reared them and they most likely have cubs of their own but."
"That is nice," John Smith interrupted before continuing, "I hate my mother. I mean, I loathe her."
"John," Pocahontas started as she sighed, "I know that not everyone gets on well with their family however."
"You are so beautiful," John cut her off as his damp hand stroked her cheek, "You were at the party the prettiest girl… No, woman, you were the most stunning woman…"
Pocahontas could not help but blush and look away from his sincere gaze as he ran a hand through his hair once more before he spoke.
"My mother is dead and it will stay that way. I bet she never cared for my father and that man was good to her! So, where is John Rolfe?"
Pocahontas sat down, suddenly feeling overwhelmed with the turn of events.
"Do you need him or something?"
It was then she knew it had been the wrong thing to inquire as Smith's expression changed. His eyes narrowed, and Pocahontas noticed that his hands were gripping onto the bench. He made no reply, only glared at the door to her bedchamber. In that moment, Pocahontas felt at a loss of what to do. She had seen drunken men from the crew that had gone with her to London, yet John Rolfe had always sheltered her when the brawls got violent. They'd shouted words she had not been able to make out, and John Rolfe would not elaborate as to their definition. He had simply escorted her to her cabin, and station himself with sword drawn at the entrance. Tempers would eventually calm, and she would be allowed on deck once more and no word would be spoken on the incident.
"Oh certainly," Pocahontas startled as John Smith's sardonic tone broke through her thoughts, "Go on and get the saint Rolfe. However, before you do I need to tell you something. Actually, actually, actually I, I n-need to show… Oh my…"
He was staring at her, his gaze intense and blue eyes holding an expression she could not read as Pocahontas stood.
"Wingapo, where are you going?"
"John Smith you are clearly drunk," the woman stated as she took a step back, "I am at a loss as to what to do."
"You can do anything you want," John Smith spoke as he slowly lifted his hands towards his throat, "You can do anything you want with me sweetheart. However, I must show you something."
As the sopping wet cloak and doublet was flung onto her dressing table, the native winced as a few of the jars plummeted to the floor. It was then she was thankful they were light and had been made of durable glass as they rolled before coming to a stop.
Pocahontas watched as he clumsily unbuttoned the first few buttons on his shirt. She noted how his fingers trembled, and how his gaze seemed to dart around the room. He startled as he met her eyes in the firelight, prior to glancing down at his hands.
"I see your hair," John Smith slurred, "That is true…"
"What about it?"
Pocahontas inquired as in one quick movement he grasped a handful of ebony strands.
"I love your hair now," he replied, "This not stupid anymore. It is down and free just like it should have been this evening."
"I was going to a ball, I could hardly."
"It should have been down," John Smith emphatically spoke as he brushed the tresses against his cheek.
The native took a step back as she gently took the pieces of hair from his grasp, "Alright, why do you not just come and sit by the table in the other corner. It is more comfortable."
"I completely agree," John Smith replied as he started to unbutton his shirt once more, "I must show… I must…"
His voice trailed off as his fingers faltered in their task, the man trying to shrug out of the barely unfastened garment. The native princess gazed on as he stood, his large hands grabbing her by the shoulders in order to keep his balance.
"What are you doing?"
Pocahontas asked as she took a step back, only to have him move closer and take her in his arms.
"Let go," she demanded as she pushed against his chest.
"Hush, hush love it is alright… Alright…"
She was about to speak when his head fell against her shoulder, his wet hair next to her neck making her shiver as he tightened his embrace.
"Stop," she said as she fought to ignore his hold, "I will cry out."
"There is no need love," John smith mumbled as he gradually loosened his grip only to tug his shirt from his trousers.
"What are you doing?"
It seemed to be the only question she could formulate as he tried to remove his shirt with one hand whilst the other grasped her shoulder.
"Do you trust me?"
"What?"
"Do you trust me?"
The captain released his hold on her nightdress only to gently cradle her face in his large hand, "Do you trust me? You should… After everything I, we have gone through you should trust me."
"John."
"Damn you woman! Why… Why… What the bloody hell would it take to!?"
Alarmed at his sudden outburst, Pocahontas stumbled backwards as in one swift motion Captain John Smith ripped the fine shirt down the middle. She gasped as the garment dropped to the ground and buttons slid across the oak floor.
"Look at me," he demanded as Pocahontas took a step back whilst shaking her head. Spying an unlit candle, the princess reached for the holder in case she would have need of it.
"Look at me please," John Smith implored as his gaze and voice softened, "Please look here."
"Where do you mean?"
She was relieved that her voice did not betray her uneasiness as she tentatively took a step forward. Pocahontas glanced at his drawn expression, followed by the curve of his neck toward his broad shoulders. Her gaze traveled down his pale arm to where his fingertips rested against his side.
"I am not going to hurt you," John murmured his tone barely rose above the crackling of the fire; "I am not going to hurt you. I would never harm you. I love you. I love you so much that I…"
His voice trailed off as his arms fell to his sides and he straightened his form. Cautiously, Pocahontas placed down the candle holder before approaching where he quietly stood. As the flames leapt in the fireplace, the jagged scar shown prominently against his pale flesh. The native swallowed hard as he tenderly took her hand.
"How is your father?"
A sudden intake of breath was her only reply as she met his solemn expression. She could not pull away as he continued.
"I stayed on deck of the ship until I could not see you on that cliff anymore," John said as he closed his eyes, "After your silhouette faded I asked the men to take me below and leave me in peace. I then wept."
Pocahontas's lips parted in surprise at his simple statement, "You did?"
John nodded, "For the first time I did not wish to leave a place. When I met you it… You opened my eyes to so much around me. I was born and raised on a farm where all I saw were fields and yet I never really seen life. I never considered the earth, sky, trees, water, animals, colors, blues, greens, leaves, foliage, yellows and rivers and."
Before she comprehended her actions her fingers lightly touched his lips, "I understand what you mean."
"I then got wounded and my God that was pain," John Smith continued as he kissed her hand, "Nowhere as horrible as leaving you. I cried like a child because I would have been happier dying where I belonged rather than perishing at sea or in London."
His watery gaze met her dark eyes in the firelight, "I should have stayed with you for then I would not have been alone."
"You had to go back," Pocahontas stated as she nodded her head, "You had to go back so your own people could assess your wound."
"No," his harsh tone startled the young woman as she jumped, "No, you were worth it. I knew that even as I boarded the ship yet everyone was insisting and I just wanted to be certain of returning to you and I should have stayed for the mere reason that I would not have to return for I never would have left…"
He swallowed hard as he breathed, his words coming out rushed as he tenderly drew patterns with his fingertips on her cheek.
"What was I to think? You did not come back. I got no letter from you. They told me you were dead."
"I was dead," John whispered as their hands entwined, "I was dead… John Smith was dead because I had to be. He had to be. He tried to send you letters but all the words came out so wrong… I wanted to tell you… He, I, I wanted to get on the next boat headed for Jamestown because… Because… Damn it I wanted to be selfish. I needed to say I love you that I never stopped I longed to hold and kiss you and tell you that I was alive and I desired God how I… I… Pocahontas… You listening? You listening with your heart?!"
A sob caught somewhere in her throat as she nodded.
"Yes," she managed as his rambling stopped before he shuddered once and collapsed into her arms, "Consequences be damned you were not just some light thing… You were not…"
The princess struggled to move as the man took a breath and released the river of tears that made the native wonder how long he'd held back. Glancing behind her, Pocahontas led him towards the edge of her bed and helped him sit.
"It is alright," the woman soothed as she rubbed his back, "It is alright. John Smith hush… It is alright. I know… I also wept… Your leaving was horrible for me… I know… I love you… I."
Gasping at her sudden revelation, Pocahontas jerked back causing him to fall half on top of her.
"Love you so much," John breathed his lips making contact with her forehead, cheek, down her neck then towards the place where her shoulder and jaw met.
Swallowing thickly Pocahontas started, "John smith I…"
He shifted slightly prior to meeting her gaze with a wan smile, "John Rolfe may possibly have you for the rest of his life. I only have tonight."
Inhaling sharply if only to keep her tears at bay, Pocahontas could do nothing as he reached for her lithe figure, his strong arms coming around her as his lips sought her own.
Combined with his gentle kiss and sincere words she was utterly helpless as he explored her mouth. Pocahontas shivered as his hard chest pressed against the thin fabric of her nightdress. And when he savored her bottom lip, she could not hold back a moan. Her senses reeling at his touch as in one quick motion she was lying beside him as he fiercely clutched her in his arms. She gasped as she felt his trembling hands through her ebony tresses as his fingers kneaded the base of her skull towards the nape of her neck.
"John…"
It was then she fully embraced him, his name being drawn out in a low moan whilst her palms made contact with the bare skin of his shoulders. Fervent kisses were pressed to her lips, cheeks and forehead as she cradled the back of his head. His golden hair was mostly dry as she found herself kissing him with just as much passion. Ardent hands sought what they could as their breaths mingled in the space between them. Gasping, the native woman raked her hands through his hair whilst his trembling lips found the hollow of her throat. Pocahontas unaware that she was arching her neck in order to grant him full access.
"Love you," he said in between kisses as he held her.
"It seemed you preferred a ship," Pocahontas was breathless as she tried to gather her thoughts, "You were leaving by choice and."
"No, no no no no no no no," he lethargically repeated as he leant against her neck, "Never… Want you always h-happy."
It was then his body slumped against her, he taking in a shaky breath. After that another, then one more, followed by another before she finally realized he was asleep.
-….-…
"I nudged you a few times," Pocahontas quietly finished her story as a harsh gust of wind slammed against the window, "You said something I could not make out… It honestly sounded like Werowocomoco. It took a moment however I was able to get you situated… And that is how you awakened here this morning."
Shocked, John Smith watched as she sat back in the plush chair, holding her cold cup of tea prior to placing it on the table.
"John Smith," her weary tone made the young captain raise his head to wholly look at her, "Did you mean any of it?"
"Referring to the words I conveyed to you?"
"Yes," she replied, "Did you mean any of it? Do you remember saying anything that I have told you?"
"I cannot honestly say that I recall making those statements to you," John Smith began as he rubbed a hand over his face.
Even as his heart clenched in his chest as he forced himself to meet her gaze.
Inhaling he answered with all the sincerity he could, "Pocahontas, I meant every word. I love you. I always have and I always will. Everything that happened on the ship back to London was true."
Silence fell for a few minutes before John cleared his throat, "I am sorry. I am sorry I called you a bitch. Just, it is just you acted so different and. I will not apologize… I cannot apologize for what I revealed last evening. You are worth losing my dignity too."
"My behavior towards you was abysmal," Pocahontas began as it was her turn to meet his weary gaze, "I am also sorry. I am sorry I said those things to you. I care not that you are the son of a farmer or that you do not have much money in your society… You saved my father, my people… I do love you John Smith, more than you will ever know."
He let out an astonished breath as in an instant she was in his lap, the thick blanket that had been about her shoulders wrapping securely around the both of them. He pressed a lingering kiss to her lips as he firmly embraced her.
"I love you too," he whispered as she pulled away.
"If you wish to rest I will mend your shirt," Pocahontas spoke as the flames leapt in the hearth.
An impish grin lit his eyes as he stared at her, "The shirt can wait. I do long to rest if you will stay beside me."
"You were wrong last night," Pocahontas began as they made their way towards her bed, "You assumed I wanted John Rolfe for the rest of my life."
"His rank is far higher than mine," John replied as he held her once more, "That is what King James will consider."
"John Rolfe did not save my people's leader," Pocahontas spoke as she softly kissed him, "You were right regarding everything. My people respect you… And you are loved by the chief's favored daughter. I am no less a princess than his Majesty's own daughter Elizabeth."
It was her turn to grin mischievously up at him, "Do you deny it?"
"No," he replied as they huddled together in the bedclothes he burying his face in her hair as he exhaled, "God willing, I will never deny you anything again."
And as the sun slowly rose, illuminating the bedchamber in a quiet glow, the battle within them ceased.
Only to be replaced by a profound love for one another and a lasting peace.
-…-End of, "Battlefield."-….-…-