A/N: Hi all!
Well, here I am with a one-shot. This is a story in Nakoma's point of view. I hope you will enjoy it and comments, concrit, thoughts and suggestions are always welcomed and appreciated!
I hope you like it; I really enjoyed writing this fanfic! Sometimes I think Nakoma doesn't get much attention in the realm of Pocahontas fanfiction, so here is my little contribution to it...lol...
Your reviews are greatly very much appreciated! Thank you so much for leaving them and taking the time to do so they seriously keep me writing. Speaking of writing and updating, I'm moving out of state in a couple days so I really won't be able to update or write much until I get settled. Hopefully I won't have you guys waiting to long for another update or story from me!
Have a great day/evening all! I shall return!
DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the characters from the Pocahontas movie. The characters and plot belong to the Disney Company and Pocahontas belongs to history.
Flames will be used to light firewood and candles.
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"Pocahontas," her voice said in the tone that she was deeply saddened by all that had occurred however it was all out of her control. She gazed on as her best friend gave one last look to her love as she exited the hut and followed Nakoma back towards Pocahontas's longhouse.
"Pocahontas," the other woman began as the two of them walked inside, "I'm so sorry for all that has taken place. If I had known all that would have happened by sending Kocoum after you I never would have. Pocahontas, I should have trusted you and I did not."
After her speech was complete she saw her friend's gaze as she lifted her head, her dark eyes filled with unshed tears.
"Leave me alone," she whispered.
Nakoma reached out towards her friend, only to be stopped by the hand of the other woman, "Please leave me be."
Taking in a shaky breath Nakoma stepped back, "I'm so sorry…"
"This happened because of you," her friend's voice cracked before she sobbed out, "As well as me, just please go."
Blinking back tears of her own Nakoma left the hut, tying the strings to her friend's home with trembling hands as she heard Pocahontas's cries from inside. The lady took off running from the village, running until she fell upon her knees in the cornfield. Nothing was heard, no crying of her best friend, no angry shouts of the warriors, no mournful sobs of Kocoum's family. Only the sound of the soft wind that blew through the stocks, the cricket's song, and the beating of a guilt filled hart. Lowering herself so that she sat upon her legs, the native woman seemed to gasp for air as she tried to control her own sobs of grief and self loathing.
'I should have listened to her.'
'Pocahontas knows what she is doing all the time, why did I think this time was any different?'
'I should have kissed Kocoum for the last time.'
However, these things the young woman did not do. Instead she knelt in the cornfield, letting the guilt consume her entire being. Her best friend Pocahontas was smart, had a free spirited personality that both excited and scared Nakoma. So when her friend began disappearing shortly after the arrival of the white men to the tribe's homeland, the young native had thought nothing of it.
She wished she had been wrong. She knew something was amiss that day in the cornfield, and Nakoma thought back to when she had seen the man called John Smith. Pocahontas had gone with him willingly which confused the young woman until now. It was clear as water that her friend was in love with the man a fact that Nakoma had completely missed.
Attempts to talk reason in to Pocahontas had failed and this is where Nakoma was now; mourning the man she had always loved secretly for years. As well as possibly losing the woman that had been her best friend since childhood.
"I never," she sobbed, "I never got a chance to tell you… I never got a moment to hold you… I should have trusted you… I should have believed…"
Her sadness was then quickly replaced by rage and anger.
'This is your so called friend's doing!'
'Don't blame yourself; all of it is on her!'
These thoughts however only made the native weep even harder for she knew they were all lies.
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Nakoma did not know how long she had sat in the cornfield surrounded by the stocks of corn and her memories. It must have been hours for when she moved she groaned as feeling returned back in to her legs as she stretched them in front of her. Allowing her tired body to sink in to the field as she lay on her back, Nakoma gazed up at the stars above.
'So many of them.' She mused tiredly as she noticed one particular spot in the sky grow ever brighter.
In that instant, she knew the sun would rise with in a couple hours. Although what she had made up to do in her mind could have waited another hour or more, the native woman slowly arose to her feet. The knowledge that her nerves would fail her in the end if she put it off any longer. Her steps were deliberate as she made her way back towards the village with a single purpose in mind.
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It had not taken much persuasion to get where she was now. Kneeling in front of the man that had stolen her love's life as well as her friend's heart.
"You are John Smith?" Nakoma inquired her tongue wrapping around the strange name that she had just spoken. It was then she was mentally kicking herself for asking such a stupid question however the native had no idea how to begin a conversation such as this.
'This could perhaps be the last one he ever has.' She thought as she lifted her eyes towards the man's face.
"I am John Smith," he quietly said as Nakoma watched a spot of blood move down his left cheek.
"You killed a man," Nakoma said flatly as she gazed at him, "A man that I loved. A man that I would have gladly given my life in order to save his own. Do you know how that feels?"
"Yes," he replied, "I do."
Nakoma stopped for a brief moment. She had so much to say, so much to tell this strange man and yet she knew she did not have the time or words to do so.
"My name is Nakoma," she began again; "I am Pocahontas's best friend. Best friends are supposed to share everything in their lives with one another; are they not?"
"They are."
"She did not tell me about you."
She watched as he shifted, "Forgive me for asking Nakoma but did you tell her about the man I had killed?"
"What?" this question caught the native off guard.
"I know that look in his eyes," John started, "As I fought him he looked at me with anger, hate, death and most of all jealousy."
"Jealousy? What would Kocoum…?"
"He saw Pocahontas and me in a kiss," he sighed as a content smile crossed his face, "A very passionate one at that. I knew as he fought me that he longed to be in her arms just as I had been and just as you had longed to be in his."
He was an infuriating man, "What? How, how dare you speak to me as…!"
The native cleared her throat as she lowered her voice, "Well, I can see how you and Pocahontas could get on so well."
He smiled, "She has taught me so much in the short time we have been together. She gave me so much that if I would have never met her I would've never obtained even the slightest of it years from now."
Nakoma nodded as her eyes traveled up towards the hole in the top of the structure, "The men will be here soon to; to get you, I have to go before long."
"You should leave now," John replied, "Do not put yourself in any kind of danger."
The native woman stood up as she reached in to the pocket of her dress and pulled out a clean cloth.
"I am sorry," she quietly whispered as she gently cleaned away the blood on his face. After the majority of the blood was gone she placed the cloth back in to her pocket.
"I am not sorry," John replied stopping Nakoma from exiting the hut, "Make sure Pocahontas knows that. I mean truly knows it."
"I will," she choked on fresh tears that threatened to fall from her eyes at any moment, "I will."
It was then she was gone, slipping out of the hut and allowing the two guards to secure the entrance. Nakoma walked briskly towards Pocahontas's longhouse, hoping that she would find her friend. However, upon finding it empty she slumped against the wall and placed her head in her hands. Long dark hair obscured her vision as she wept. Not only for Kocoum, but for Pocahontas's pain and John Smith's soon to be execution. The man's only real crime being he loved someone he shouldn't have and for protecting himself against one that was hell-bent on destroying that love.
Nakoma despised the truth, however there it was staring at her in the face. The reality of the situation had now become painfully and obviously clear to her weary and troubled mind.
"We are all guilty of something," she whispered to herself as she slowly got to her feet while pushing her hair out of her eyes.
From not far off she saw many of the warriors gathering around John Smith's prison. She could not see exactly what was going on, however she followed the men as they began the walk towards the sight where the chief performed the executions of the enemy.
While behind her, the sun began to rise.
-..-..-..-..-..—End of, "Under the Stars."-..-..-..-..-..-…-..-..-