DISCLAIMER: All the recognizable characters you see in this story aren't mine. The only one I can really claim is Siobhan, so if you want to use her just ask me! I generally won't have any problem!

NOTE: I know this storyline has basically been used millions of times (guy meets girl, they fall in love, Titanic sinks, total devastation) but this is different! I promise!

And…the historically accurate factor…I'm taking an artistic license and changing things up a bit. You'll see what I'm talking about.

SUMMARY: Siobhan Andrews is the fiery niece of Thomas Andrews. Harold Lowe is the young, courageous Fifth Officer of the Titanic. The Ship of Dreams truly brought them together, but are they strong enough to withstand the inevitable?

PROLOGUE: Under the Stars

April 15th, 1912

3 a.m.

The cries of the passengers began to subside gradually, leaving the only sound of the night to be the little splashes of those just barely hanging on to dear life. The passengers in the half-submerged Collapsible A lifeboat could only hope that they would stay up until a rescue boat came along. One was on its way, or so whispers had said.

Even though the majority of the passengers on board the collapsible were third class and male, there was one female third class passenger on board and very few crewmen. Everything that would have helped them was submerged, so they were basically stuck with very few provisions and no oars.

One of the men turned and looked over to the side when he heard a splashing sound next to the boat. "Siobhan," he said while suddenly standing up. There were shouts as more water came in and one of the crewmen commanded him to get back down.

"But you don't understand…this is my friend Siobhan Andrews…we have to help her." He pointed back to a body of one of the passengers, most visibly dead. "If we put him overboard and bring her in, we will be losing some of the weight that is weighing us down into the water…"

However, the seaman knew that the woman who he was speaking of was indeed the niece of Thomas Andrews, the master shipbuilder. There was talk amongst the crew over the past days of the beautiful Irishwoman who did not believe in class distinction even though she was sailing in the first cabin with her uncle. "Make it so," he said. "Slowly put the body overboard and then bring her in." There was a cry from another one of the passengers, who seemed to have a bond with the person who had died. "You will restrain yourself, sir," he said, "or you will be joining him. Siobhan," he said turning to her. The stories were true - she was a head-turner, but it was apparent that she was in an immense pain from the cold. "We need you to hold down this side so we can keep the boat at an equal level." She nodded and prepared herself to climb up and hold down the boat, whimpers already coming from her direction.

The exchange took place successfully. She took a seat next to her friend, who gave her his jacket in an attempt to get her somewhat warmed. She tucked her feet under her legs in order to get them out of the cold water.

"I'm so tired, Owen…"

"Don't say that, Siobhan," he said turning to her. "Lowe would not want you to say that. You must stay awake until at least morning. A rescue ship is on its way."

She smiled as best as she could when he mentioned Lowe. The last few days were so magical, and he played a big part of that. "DidMoody make it?"

"I don't know," her friend said ominously. "All of the boats were gone when I made it up to the deck. They were trying to get these boats off of the decks…"

She nodded, not really listening to the story. Her only true father was gone, many other people were dying as they spoke, and she was trying not to become one of them. She focused her mind on recalling the events of the past days in an attempt to keep her mind active…