Twisted Princess: Pocahontas

June 19, 1608, New England, mid-summer. A year has passed since John Smith had leaped in front of Chief Powhattan when Ratcliffe had shot at him. Pocahontas was standing atop the cliff where she had last seen John Smith since his ship sailed away. The wind blew through her hair, the leaves flying with it. She heard the chatter of her close companion, Meeko. Flit, the ever so ill-tempered humming bird, was right behind him, shrieking at him like always. Nakoma, Pocahontas's best friend, came running up to her.

"Pocahontas! Someone's here to see you! Come back to the village!" She yelled as she ran up to the Native American princess. Pocahontas, always curious, smiled and excitedly asked, "Who?" Nakoma laughed and took her hands. She turned around and started running back to the village, yelling, "You'll have to come see!" Pocahontas ran close beside, following her back home.

Meanwhile, in the village

Powhattan walked out of his tepee, and instantly approached Kekata, the village medicine man. Kekata smiled.

"Do not worry. She will come. No matter how sad she feels, Pocahontas loves mysteries. I am sure Nakoma wouldn't tell her who it is" He said smiling at the Chief. Powhattan smiled, put his hand on Kekata's shoulder respectfully, and walked back into his tepee to check on their visitor. Soon after, Nakoma and Pocahontas ran into the village, Meeko and Flit close behind. Kekata walked up to the girls, and greeted them.

"Win gapo girls." He said, a smile showing his many wrinkles.

"Win gapo Kekata." They replied. Nakoma smiled at Kekata questioningly, and Kekata nodded. Pocahontas looked back and forth between them and finally rested on Kekata.

"Is there something I should know?" She asked. Kekata smiled and walked away. Pocahontas approached her father's tepee. Nakoma stopped Pocahontas before she could reach the curtain, grabbing her shoulder. She smiled nervously and whispered, "Good luck. I hope you like it." She led Pocahontas through the curtain.

What Pocahontas saw took her breath away and made her heart skip a beat. Never did she think she would see him again. It was all so familiar; he was tall, with blue eyes, and hair the color of the sun. His wore his usual torso armor that she remembered so well and his charming smile. The smile that changed her world. There he was, alive, and healthy. John Smith, the man she had fallen in love with completely. He smiled at her, is heart bursting with love and his thoughts following hers.

"John Smith!" She gasped. She ran into his arms, tears soaking her face. She hugged him as if he would disappear if she let go. He held her tight, smiling and reminiscing in her smell. Oh how he missed her. They stood there, embracing each other, tears running down their faces. Nakoma cleared her throat, catching their attention. She had tears in her eyes and a heart-felt smile on her face. Pocahontas smiled at her. Nakoma held out a buckskin hide, telling John Smith it was for him. He unraveled it, and found clothing similar to Powhattan's own. He smiled and accepted it gratefully. Powhattan pointed to the curtain he could change behind. Then he'd have something else for John Smith. He followed, and went behind the hide to change. When he was changed, he stepped out looking to Pocahontas. Powhattan took him by the shoulder, and walked outside with Pocahontas, Nakoma and himself. He turned towards the villagers, raising his hand to the skies.

"Today, our pale brother has joined us again. We will welcome him into our village. He will be our family. An equal member of our home." He announced. Everyone whooped and hollered in excitement and approval. John Smith and Pocahontas embraced each other and smiled happily.

Later that day

Pocahontas and John Smith left to visit Grandmother Willow. When she looked upon the familiar man, a smile spread across the elderly tree's face, and she repeated the words she'd spoken to him before:

"Hello, John Smith." She smiled, recognition gleaming in her dark eyes.

"Hello Grandmother Willow." He replied, grinning.

"I knew you'd return. I felt it in these old vines. They've welcomed you into the tribe. Congratulations young man." Grandmother Willow said proudly. John Smith smiled.

"Thank you. That means very much to me." He replied. Pocahontas smiled at the two's reunion.

"So young man, I hear that there's a wedding going on at sunrise?" Grandmother Willow said. John Smith laughed.

"Why is it always sunrise?" He asked. Pocahontas scoffed quietly. John Smith looked at her and took her hand, pulling her close.

"No more bad things will happen at sunrise Pocahontas. I promise. I swear. Everything will be perfectly fine." He replied to her, putting his forehead against hers. Pocahontas ran her hands through John Smith's hair.

"I love you John Smith." She said, full-heartedly, every word dripping with truth. He smiled and squeezed his hand.

"Pocahontas, it's just John. Please." He said smiling.

"John. It's…. much easier to say" Pocahontas laughed. John laughed with her.

"We should go. Preparations still need to be made." Pocahontas said touching his shoulder. John smiled in return.

"What exactly is the custom with Native weddings?" He asked, looking to Grandmother Willow. She smiled, wisdom shining in her dark eyes.

"Well, the man hoping to marry the woman, asks the father for permission, which you have. He then, pays a bride wealth." She started.

"I'm sorry. A what?" John asked, obviously confused.

"A bride wealth. It's a payment for any labor that is lost during the beginning of the marriage." Pocahontas explained. John nodded, and Grandmother Willow continued.

"He pays the bride wealth, and then, there is a feast. The chief acknowledges that the two are married, and so it is done. A very simple process, really." She said smiling. John blanked. Grandmother Willow and Pocahontas both looked at him worriedly.

"Are you alright?" They asked. He shook his head, and nodded.

"Uh... Yeah. Just a little worried on how I'm going to pay your father the bride wealth." He said sadly.

"We can figure that out later. If father was worried about it, he wouldn't have planned it so soon. He also would have brought it up." Pocahontas replied reassuringly. John took her hand, saying, "I hope so my love….I hope so."

Meanwhile, on the shore

The wind was cold, as it always is on the shore. A dinghy hit the shoreline, and a single person stepped off. Black shoes and a menacing smile are all that was visible of the cloaked figure. The figure proceeded down the beach, into the forest. It seemed this person knew exactly where they were going. The cloaked figure crept through the dimly lit forest. While walking the figure heard laughing and quickly ducked behind a tree. Looking to the other side, he saw a light haired, light skinned man, and a dark haired dark, copper skinned woman. A malicious grin spread across the strangers face.

"Smith…" the figure muttered. Following the two, the mysterious figure watched quietly.

With Pocahontas and John Smith

The two arrived in the village about five hours before sunrise. Just enough time to get ready. John Smith went into a long house with Kekata, while Pocahontas went into one next to it. Powhatan, with Pocahontas's permission, went in and he handed Pocahontas a deerskin hide. She looked at it confused, but when she held it up she realized what it was and began crying. Powhatan hugged her tightly, tears forming in his eyes.

"This was mothers dress wasn't it? She wore it when you married," Pocahontas said. Powhatan smiled and nodded.

In the village at sunrise

The ceremony began, the feast had been made and Pocahontas and John Smith were standing together in front of the village and Powhatan. Powhatan raised his hand and spoke loudly so everyone could hear.

"Today, we gather for a tremendous occasion. My daughter Pocahontas has found the man she will marry. John Smith is the man she chose. Pocahontas, do you accept this proposal?" He asked her.

"Yes, Father. I accept," she said, her eyes never leaving John.

"John Smith, do you accept this proposal?" Powhattan asked John.

"Yes Chief. I accept."

"So it is done," Powhattan announced. Sounds of cheers and whooping rose and sounded throughout the forest. Pocahontas and John Smith kissed, and out of seemingly nowhere, a dagger went flying through the air piercing John in the heart. He fell to the ground, Pocahontas holding onto him and falling to the ground with him. There was an absolute up stir in the village, everyone running into the forest to see who killed their newest tribe member.

They ran and ran until they caught up with the hooded stranger. When said stranger was captured, one of the warriors knocked him on the head rendering him unconscious. They dragged the cloaked one back to the village.

Pocahontas was still hovered above John, crying with her hands on the wound. The knife had already been removed. The warriors tied the stranger up and walked to the crown surrounding Pocahontas and the fallen man. Powhattan looked to Kekata, who was knelt next to John trying his ancient remedies, hope in his eyes. Kekata looked back to him, and sadly shook his head. Powhattan's shoulders slumped and he knelt next to his beloved daughter, wrapping her in his arms.

"I am sorry, my daughter. He is with your mother and the Great Spirits now," he said to her as she cried on his shoulder. One of the warriors stepped up.

"Pocahontas, Chief, we captured the killer," he said. Pocahontas looked up, malice glistening in her dark eyes. She stood, still covered with Johns' blood, and ripped the hood from the strangers face. Who she saw made her blood boil.

"Ratcliffe!" she hissed through gritted teeth. He smiled in response.

"Why, Pocahontas! The Savage Princess!" He laughed.

"The only savage here, Ratcliffe, is you!" Pocahontas screamed. Turning, she picked up the knife that had formerly been in John's chest, and held it to her enemies' throat. Her father quickly pulled her away. She kicked and screamed, demanding to be let loose. When her father finally let her go, Ratcliffe had already been towed into a tepee and tied up more securely than before.

Pocahontas took off into the forest, dodging trees and rocks, just trying to get away. When she finally stopped, she was standing on a cliff above the river. She fell to her knees, and screamed. She screamed so loud and so long that she was heard not only at her village, but also at Jamestown. Powhattan looked to Nakoma, worry lining his face. She looked down, and tears fell from her almond eyes. She had never seen Pocahontas so broken. Even when John was first shot, she remained strong as a Willow tree. Nakoma felt so bad for her closest friend. What would happen? What could they do for her?

Pocahontas sat on the cliff, staring into the crystal blue waters. She remembered when she had first seen John Smith, when they first landed in the New World. Her mind drifted to when they first introduced themselves by the waterfall. Her mind continued drifting on and on through all they'd done with each other. From the first meeting to their traumatizing wedding. Pocahontas stared blankly to the horizon, her mind reeling. She didn't even notice Meeko sneaking into her lap. But absent-minded, she started petting him. She didn't snap into reality until she heard Nakoma far below in the river calling to her once again. She looked down, and lifted a hand to show she heard her friend.

"Pocahontas, please come down here and talk to me. Please?" Nakoma begged. Pocahontas put Meeko beside her and stood up. Turning, she walked towards the woods. Nakoma expected to see her jumping off the cliff into the river, but to her surprise, she didn't. After a few minutes, Nakoma saw her best friend standing on the shore line. Nakoma paddled the canoe over to her and pulled it ashore. The two girls sat on the shore, watching the water.

"He's gone, Nakoma… There's no hope of him coming back to me again," Pocahontas said. Nakoma leaned over and hugged her, and kissed her temple.

"I know Pocahontas... I know. I'm so sorry. Your father is waiting for you. He wants to talk to you about Ratcliffe's sentencing. He wants you to make the decision," Nakoma said quietly watching her friend. Pocahontas kept her eyes steadily on the river. Two little otters broke the surface, and disappeared back under the blue waters. But still, her eyes never left the same spot. Nakoma put her hand on Pocahontas's shoulder.

"He will not die quickly," Pocahontas suddenly announced after a moment of silence. Nakoma looked to her wide-eyed.

"You want to torture him?" Nakoma asked. Pocahontas shrugged.

"I have not decided. I could torture him, or have a fight to the death," Pocahontas replied. Nakoma continued to stare at her wide-eyed. Pocahontas looked at her friend and watched with blank, dead eyes. Nakoma quickly looked down and sighed.

"The best thing for you to do in that case is talk to your father. He'll know what's best," Nakoma replied. Pocahontas watched her downcast eyes.

"You think I'm being savage, don't you?" she asked her companion.

"I think you're going a little far with this," Nakoma replied hesitantly. Pocahontas laughed a short, burst of a laugh and reached for a small rock in the river.

"If he wants to believe I'm a savage, I'll show him a savage. Besides that, it's an honorable death, and it gives him a chance to live. Possibly," Pocahontas replied. Nakoma stood up and climbed in the canoe. Pocahontas followed, and pushed them off the shore. They followed the river in silence, Pocahontas thinking about John, and Nakoma thinking about Pocahontas.

They arrived to the village, where Powhattan was waiting with Kekata. The villagers had Ratcliffe tied to a totem in the middle of the middle of the village. The girls noticed they had removed the black armor he had been wearing. Pocahontas approached her father. They hugged and they walked to the tepee.

"Father, I have come to a decision," she said turning to face him. Powhattan nodded for her to continue.

"I want a fight to the death. Between me and him," she continued. Powhattan's eyes widened just as Nakoma's had.

"Are you positive this is what you want, my daughter?" he asked, his face etched with worry. Pocahontas nodded, her dark brown eyes staring blankly into his own. Powhattan sighed, and nodded his head. They walked outside together, and approached the crowd. Powhattan walked to the totem and stood next to their prisoner. He raised his hands high and spoke in his loudest voice.

"My people! My daughter has made a decision. She wishes to fight to the death with the prisoner. Who will be her champion?" He announced. Hundreds of cheers sounded as all the men offered their services to the Chiefs daughter. But Pocahontas stepped up to her father and shouted above the crowd.

"Quiet! I will be my own champion! I will fight this demon!" she raged as she looked over the crowd. Her gaze fell to the one she would fight and her eyes lit with fire. She looked at him with such fierceness it gave him chills. Still, he laughed out loud.

"Fight you? Oh my dear savage, that will be too easy!" he guffawed, his big belly shaking with each laugh. She lifted her arm and brought her knuckles across his face. He sat, stunned into silence, his eyes wide and watering, and his mouth agape. He sat there for a while, just staring at the ground.

Hours passed by, and Pocahontas once again stood at the totem. She wore buckskin pants with boots, and a special made buckskin top with a single two-inch wide sleeve across her back. She held a bow in her hand, which had strips of fur on the middle and the spear-head. It was quite obvious to Ratcliffe that this was a special fighting spear. Not one to throw but to fight in hand-to-hand combat with. His eyes widened slightly as he spotted her war paint.

Her hand was covered in it, as she did her own paint. She had what would be describes as scratch marks across her right eye, She had a handprint on both of her thighs, and small scratch marks up her left inner arm. Ratcliffe realized this was no ordinary design for war paint. This was pure pain and fury. He knew he'd have to watch her carefully and be quick otherwise he wouldn't last. Pocahontas took out a knife and cut him loose. She pointed towards warriors holding different kinds of weapons: a staff, a spear, a sword, a pair of Sais and two short swords. He walked in front of each weapon and examined it. He walked back and forth until he finally settled on the spear.

'I can't use a sword against her spear. She'll kill me before I even have the chance to get close enough to strike. Normally I'd be able to cut the spear and kill her, but this has to be durable to even a blade. This is a spectacular weapon. I have no chance with a sword.' He watched her as she walked to the designated battle ground on her left. Ratcliffe followed at a safe distance and stood ready. Powhattan walked in the middle of them, and spoke once again in his booming voice.

"They will now battle to the death. Our enemy, Ratcliffe, and our… kinsman, my daughter, Pocahontas. Let the fighters take their positions," he said. Both Pocahontas and Ratcliffe moved to their respected circles in the ring. They raised her weapons, and waited, focused intently on each other. Powhattan walked from the circle to his respected seat as chief, and sighed.

"You may now fight!" he boomed. Pocahontas and Ratcliffe slowly moved forward, circling each other, watching for something. Anything, that could be a weakness.

"Savage," Ratcliffe sung, "savage… aim well, savage…" his words seemed to echo all around Pocahontas. In a flash, she saw her failed wedding all over again. The knife, the scream, the blood, the tears, everything. It seemed to haunt her and cloud her vision.

Ratcliffe took that chance to strike. He swiped the spear up to her left, and cut into her shoulder deep. Pocahontas was ripped from her thoughts and grasped her shoulder tightly. He stepped back, and then lunged at her again. She blocked this time, swinging her spear against his and knocking him back. He stumbled for just a second, and caught himself. They circled each other for a few more steps and Pocahontas swiped for his chest. She caught his shirt, but he was able to block it for the most part. The both of the stopped moving, and watched each other. In a flash, they were at each other's throats, their spears clacking against each other. Pocahontas blocked an attack from Ratcliffe, and swung for the right of his face. He backed up a step and went for her again. She blocked and swung. The battle went on and on.

Pocahontas backed up to the edge of the circle. Ratcliffe watched her carefully, and glanced behind him, just in case. He watched the warriors behind him for a second, making sure they weren't going to ambush him. After a few seconds, he turned back to the woman across him. She was too close to him and quickly moving closer. His eyes widened. One strike and that'd be it. He'd be done for.

"This savage… She'll kill me… A woman savage!' he thought. Then he felt it. The stab. The sticky ooze coming out of his side. The warm-cold feeling. Then, just the cold. He fell to his knees and watched her as she pulled out the spear, the cold satisfaction clear on her face. She had killed him. For John Smith. The man who blocked the shot that would have made him richer than the king.

He kneel in front of the mad woman towering above him and took a deep breath.

"Hell truly hath no fury as a woman scorned…" he sighed as he fell to the ground, his last breath escaping his lips. Pocahontas dropped to her knees and sighed deeply. Silence reigned over the entire tribe, and everyone watched their princess as she breathed heavily in Ratcliffe's draining blood. The blood stuck to and dried on her legs and her spear.

"Pocahontas… my daughter… it's done. Come with me," Powhattan said, slowly approaching her. Never before had he seen his daughter like this. Slowly she stood up and looked at her father.

The wind picked up, pulling the leaves along with it. It whirled through her hair, and clothes. She turned towards the forest, and started running. She followed the river and ran as fast as she could. She finally stopped when she got to Grandmother Willow's roots. She stopped long enough to look up to where her face would be. She climbed up to the extra stump and lay down, looking to the face. She fell asleep quickly, listening to the world around her.

Grandmother Willow showed her face and looked to her. Her face was worried.

"I felt the deathly chill in the wind, Pocahontas. I am so sorry my dear. This path is a dark path… and I hope you can be light again," she whispered, her words floating on the wind around them. She smiled then, as she watched her spirit granddaughter sleep. She'd be upset when she woke, but until then, she could sleep under the sweet protective curtain of Grandmother Willow.