Explanations
by The Lark
Disclaimer: I don't own the movie or the characters. I'm just borrowing them for my own silly purposes.
The wedding of John Rolfe and Pocahontas took place on a beautiful summer day, at a quaint little chapel in Virginia. They had just exchanged their vows, and the priest was about to pronounce them husband and wife. Then, without warning, the chapel doors burst open and Captain John Smith appeared in the doorway.
"Stop! I object!" he shouted, trying to run down the aisle. It wasn't easy for him, however, as there was a heavy leg iron locked around his left ankle, and a tangle of seaweed hanging over his eyes. He was soaking wet, covered with bruises and scratches, and clutching a blood-drenched sword. His clothes were torn and dirty. He looked like he'd been hurled off a bridge, dragged by a horse, whacked with a baseball bat, keel-hauled, and then hurled off another bridge. "I object!" he hollered once more, angrily pulling the seaweed out of his hair.
The wedding guests began to whisper excitedly amongst themselves. Rolfe glanced quizzically from his bride to the bedraggled Captain Smith, then back to his bride. Pocahontas just shrugged helplessly, turning to frown at her former beloved. "John, what are you doing here? We broke up months ago."
Smith's eyebrows shot up incredulously. "Broke up? What are you talking about? I've been…" Realization suddenly dawned in his eyes. "Of course. Don again. I'm going to kill him!"
"Huh?" Pocahontas blinked in surprise. "What are you talking about? Who's--"
Smith raked a hand restlessly through his sopping wet hair. "Don Smith. My evil twin brother."
"You never told me you had a brother."
Smith sighed sadly. "I know. I don't talk about him much. We're not on very good terms." He swung a wet, sand-encrusted arm around her shoulders, making a mess of her wedding dress. "See, back when Don and I were about eleven, I accidentally stepped on his pet gerbil. Poor Snuggles was killed instantly, and Don has never forgiven me. He swore bloody revenge on me, and from that day forward, he's made it his mission in life to turn mine into a living hell."
Rolfe shoved his way between the two, peeling Smith's arm off of Pocahontas. "This is all very fascinating," he snapped, "but if you don't mind, we're in the middle of something, here!"
Rolfe had barely finished his sentence, when one of the wedding guests hurled a shoe at his head. "Oh, pipe down, Rolfe!"
"Yeah, this is better than 'Days of Our Lives'," added another guest.
"But--!" Rolfe started to protest, but was interrupted by another shoe, this one a stiletto heel, sailing toward his head. He ducked out of the way with a yelp.
"As I was saying," Smith continued, "after I was wounded protecting your father, word got back to Don. When he found out that I was hospitalized and helpless as a baby, he decided to make his move. He dragged me from my sickbed, clapped me in irons, and sold me as a slave to some Peruvian silver miners." His eyes hardened, like two blue chips of ice. "For three years, I was forced to dig ore at gunpoint, in a four foot by six foot tunnel hundreds of feet below the surface of the earth, never seeing the light of day, half-starved, beaten on an hourly basis. And we didn't get dental, either!"
Pocahontas gasped. "That's awful! How did you ever manage to get free?"
Smith jerked a thumb toward the doorway, where his redheaded buddy Thomas was now standing. "He managed to track me down and smuggle me a map to an escape route.
Another wave of whispers echoed through the room.
"Is that really Thomas?"
"So that's where he's been all this time? Off rescuing Smith?"
"Guess so. I was beginning to wonder."
Thomas glared at them all. "Oh, shut up. Not one person in this film has even mentioned my name in the last five years." He sniffled, looking hurt. "Don't start pretending to care about me all of a sudden!" With that, he ran out of the chapel, eyes welling up with tears.
The citizens of Jamestown shuffled their feet guiltily. Smith cleared his throat in an attempt to end the awkward silence.
"Anyway, Thomas helped me bust out, and we boarded a ship back to Virginia. However, halfway through the journey, we were captured by some pirates. With some help from the other prisoners, we managed to take over their ship and pull in at Port Royale to have them handed over to the authorities. While we were there, I ran into Don again, and found him up to his old tricks again. Apparently, he's been trying to destroy my reputation by assuming my identity and telling his lame jokes to everyone I knew." John sighed wearily. "I had to have him committed, the poor fellow. Anyhow, we headed home again, and after just four weeks, two hurricanes, and one run-in with the Kraken, I washed up in Jamestown harbor…"
He looked accusingly at Pocahontas. "…Where I was told that the love of my life was in the process of marrying another man. Would you care to explain, Pocahontas?"
Pocahontas smiled sadly at her former beloved. "John, I'm sorry about all of this. But we just can't be together anymore. I'm in love with someone else."
"Yeah!" John Rolfe smirked, edging his way between Pocahontas and the other John once more. "So take a hike, blondie."
John Smith stared at her incredulously. "Pocahontas, dear, you can't be serious! We fell in love at first sight! You risked your life for me! We sang a pop ballad together! Those aren't the kind of ties you can just wake up one day and forget."
She patted his head consolingly. "John, it's like I told you before…or maybe that was Don…Anyway, you're just not my type anymore. I'm looking for someone stable and reliable, who I can settle down and raise a family with."
Nakoma, who was standing next to Pocahontas as her maid of honor, rolled her eyes. "If that's what you want, then why didn't you just marry Kocoum? It would have saved us all a lot of trouble."
"Just leave me alone!" she exploded. "I can't deal with this right now." With that, Pocahontas dug into her pocket and came up with a small prescription bottle.
John Rolfe frowned. "What's this?" He snatched the bottle away from her, donning his reading glasses to study the label. "Prozacontin, five hundred milligrams."
"What? Let me see that." The other John grabbed the bottle and looked it over. "Mood-altering drugs? Pocahontas, what are you doing with these?"
Pocahontas was too busy grabbing for her pills to answer. "Give those back! I need them!"
"I'll explain." Nakoma took the bottle with a heavy sigh. "You see, Captain Smith, after Pocahontas got word of your "death", she fell into a deep depression. The poor girl turned to mood-altering drugs to numb the pain." She spared her best friend a pitying glance. "Ever since she got hooked on them , she's been like a totally different person."
Pocahontas, deprived of her fix for the first time in years, thrashed violently for a few minutes. Then, as the drugs cleared her system for the first time in years, she looked around dazedly. "Wha…where am I?" Her eyes focused on John Rolfe. "Who the heck are you?"
Her gaze drifted to John Smith. "John! What are you doing here? The last thing I remember is someone telling me that you were dead!" In relief, she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. "What on earth is going on?"
Smith held her tightly. "Oh, Pocahontas, it was terrible! You got addicted to mood-altering drugs and turned into a boring shadow of your former self. Then my evil twin brother tracked you down and tried to break us up!"
Pocahontas put a finger to his lips. "Shh. None of that matters now that we're together again."
"You're right." Smith grinned. "Let's get married!"
Pocahontas smiled back at him. "I thought you'd never ask. When?"
Rolfe glowered. "Wait just a minute--!"
Smith's eyes lit up. "Why not now? We can go to Vegas!"
"You can't do that. Nevada hasn't even been discovered yet!" Rolfe protested.
The lovebirds were not fazed. "Really? Hey, then maybe we could go discover it. It'll be fun. Maybe we can make up a new song to sing on the trip."
"You read my mind. Let's go round up our animal friends and be off!" Pocahontas grabbed John Smith by the arm and excitedly towed him out of the chapel.
John Rolfe stormed out the back door in disgust, bitterly muttering, "I've had it with that blasted, fickle woman! Honestly, I should have just married Princess Jasmine back when I had the chance."
A/N: I'm not trying to make light of drug addiction, here. The only thing I'm trying to do is have some fun at the expense of a lame movie.