Okay, so I decided to start this story because I've had major issues with the movie 'Pocahontas' all my life and I have finally decided to fix some of the things that always bothered me. I adore the movie, of course, but my fangirl OCD has finally kicked in. I will write until I am satisfied with the way things turn out and I hope that you guys will enjoy the story as it develops!
{Thank you Lady Gisborne 15 for being as excited for me about this project as I was!} My posting this is probably extremely premature, as I only started this about four or five hours ago and am making a very rash decision to post it. *cringes* Ohhh well...
-lightinside
As a little girl in England, I never saw race as much of an issue. People were people and that was the end of it, as it should be for all children. Adults, as well, the way I saw it. Now that I looked back on it, however, I wondered how aware you could be at six years old. How could you know that everyone thought that having skin darker than what society considered normal was something that was labeled as abominable? I never did understand that. I still didn't, to this day, fifteen years later.
And the day my older brother, John – the first of the Smith boys – came flouncing in the house with a smile as big as the moon stretching his lips so wide I thought it must have hurt, I expected that whatever he had to tell my family would be welcomed. That it would make them just as happy as he was.
But it wasn't so.
"John!" My mother gasped as she heard his news, clutching at her heart as she sank down in one of the chairs she had placed around the parlor. "You'll be killed! A journey overseas. To claim land where they are? Those savages?"
"Mother!" The word flew from my mouth before I could think to hold my tongue.
"You hush this instant, Joanna." She snapped at me, silencing my protests before turning back to my sympathetic if not irritated brother. "John, you cannot be serious."
"I am serious. Ratcliffe has asked me to go along with the ships. Thomas is going, too." John said, throwing Thomas's name in for good measure. "Someone's got to look out for the clumsy rascal."
"And what of your education?" Mother queried, fanning herself lightly. "You'll not be eligible to marry if you've not an education, John! Not a penny to your name either, if you keep up this silly adventuring business."
"Education is out there." John answered coolly. "Besides. Joanna knows enough for the two of us."
I often envied his calm - the way he never seemed to be put off by my mother's eccentricities. I never thought, growing up, that his feathers could ever be ruffled by anything other than sheer excitement. But today, I could tell, that our mother was taxing him in the worst way possible.
"What does Joanna have to do with this, John? This is about you. Your future. Joanna will make her own way in the world. She'll marry and be provided for..."
I tuned out with an aggravated sigh. What my mother would never know, or at least never acknowledge, was that my taste for adventure strongly rivaled my brother's. I longed to trade in my dresses for slacks and take to the seas and would do so in an instant if I was given the chance. I didn't want to marry. I didn't want to be provided for. I wanted to provide for myself – to make a life in the way that I saw fit. In this society, though, I knew that I never would. Not unless nothing shy of a miracle happened upon me.
"Mother, Joanna is going with me." John declared evenly, never glancing my way once. "To Jamestown. That's what they'll call it, I suspect. Good name. A little imposing, if I do say so myself, but I suppose it might stick…"
"JOHN SMITH!" My mother shouted, leaping from her seat. "Tell me you did not procure your sister a place on that filthy vessel."
John nodded. "We leave tomorrow morning." And before my mother could faint or burst several blood vessels, I saw him wink at me with the smallest smile curling up the corners of his lips.
My brother, I decided then, must have been the angel that I had craved all my life. He'd always been thoughtful and encouraging – the perfect picture of what every older brother should aspire to be. But never had he encouraged me to do what he was suggesting now. Every time I had mentioned it, he was always practical. Always reminding me that I was a lady and that I would be the object of every gentleman's affections, should I carry on in a respectable way.
Taking off on a ship bound for America was hardly respectable – hardly what one would desire in a potential wife, the insatiable need for adventure. But I found that in this one moment, I didn't have it in me to care.
"Joanna!" My mother screeched, cheeks flushed from her own exaggerated excitement. "You're not going are you, sweet? Think of it! A boat full of men for what could be months! And think of the storms, Joanna! There's no guarantee you'll make it home!" When she got no response, my mother finally noticed the dreamy look that I'm sure was permanently plastered on my face. "Joanna! Are you listening?"
"I'm going with John." I tried out the words for the first time, letting them sit on my lips for a few moments before I said them again. "I'm leaving England."
I think it was then that my mother decided to faint.