A/N: I am kind of in love with the character Kocoum, even though he has the emotional range of a tea spoon (much like a certain redheaded wizard...hmm..). I still love him, though, and I wanted to try and mentally explore why he would be interested in Pocahontas, this wild girl who kind of just did what she wanted, no matter what others told her. So these are my thoughts! It's my first Disney fanfiction, so I'm actually perfectly terrified. I hope some people enjoy it, at least!
Disclaimer: Pocahontas belongs to Disney.
He had always noticed her.
It was the first time that he saw her, running through the streets of the village, that he knew she had him completely ensnared in her charm and her spirit.
He was young, just training to be a great warrior like his father before him. He had been sharpening the new blade that his father had given him for his coming of age, sitting by the fire with his hair braided back. He had just been looking at the blade to see if it was sharp enough when he heard her.
She had been running through the village, laughing with her best friend Nakoma; a quiet girl with poise and dignity, even at that age, yet there was a slow smouldering fire in her eyes that gave her life. He wasn't sure what they had been playing, but it was obvious that Nakoma was on the losing end.
He knew who she was, of course. She was the chief's daughter, and the pride of her strong and spirited mother. Her hair was unbound, her smiles never faded, and she burned with such passionate fire that he felt as if he would be burned if he touched her.
And as he had watched her weave through the women's legs and hide behind blankets, baskets and the carcasses of the hunt, giggling as her friend stumbled behind her, telling her to 'wait up!', Kocoum knew he wanted to one day marry her.
So he had trained to become a mighty warrior who could one day protect her from the outside world's dangers, perfecting his skill and sparring with the other young men. He had given up childish play so that he could become strong and brave and skilled, all so that he could be sure that when he married her, he would be able to shield her from anything.
Yet he could not shield her from her mother's untimely death.
It was as if the fire in that little girl's eyes had been drowned out by the cold waters of grief, and he felt he had failed her somehow. He wanted to protect her, yet he could not save her from the pain of mourning. All he could do was watch from the sidelines as Nakoma tried her best to comfort her and her father tried his best to convince her that her mother was still with them in spirit.
So he had stayed away, utterly useless for all his training and skill.
He watched her as she rebuilt herself back into that passionate girl he had first fallen in love with, yet with a disobedient side that had never before existed within her. She left the village constantly, either in her small boat or in through the trees. Nakoma often followed after her, making sure she wouldn't get into too much danger. He would quietly follow after them, protecting them from harmful elements and warning them when the chief would be returning to the village from a meeting with the council or a hunting expedition.
He saw her become a strong woman with ideals and ambitions and fly-away dreams, and he loved her all the more for it.
She was the freest, most beautiful spirit he had ever seen. And he would give anything to just be near her.
It was many years past when he was called to fight in the war against the tribe's enemies: the Masowomics, a violent tribe that longed for their fertile soil and fishing rivers. He left with the warriors, sitting in one of the long boats closest to the chief, and he looked out into the sea of people as the village came to see their warriors off to battle.
He noticed that she was nowhere in sight.
The battle had been hard, and he had feared for his life more than once. They fought from the time the sun had risen into the sky, burning down on them and making them sweat until the shadows of night crawled over the grounds. He had killed numerous enemy warriors, having lost count throughout the day. He tired, yet still he fought. He fought and he fought, using all the skill and the training he had done as if he had been waiting for this moment.
He thought that he could protect her from these soulless beasts, as he had not been able to protect her from her mother's death.
It was during the last hours of battle, the grounds riddled in blood and bodies, that he saw one of the enemy sneaking up behind the chief with a short blade. Quickly knocking an arrow onto his bow, he pulled back the course rope and let the arrow fly, silently thanking the spirits when it successfully hit his enemy in the throat.
The enemy's chief had pulled back and retreated from the battle, proclaiming their defeat. All around him his brothers and comrades gave a victory cry, and he joined them, jumping in the air with his arm raised and his spirits uplifted, for he had successfully done what he could not before.
The warriors had rested that night in the woods, hunting small game for dinner and picking wild berries. Once everyone had started to eat, he had approached his chief, intent on asking him the one question that would determine his entire future.
"Chief Powhatan," he had said, his voice strong though his insides twisted. He had never felt so unsure in his life, not even in the battle he had just been in.
"What is it, Kocoum?" the chief had asked, looking at him with aged, wise dark eyes. His eyes seemed to look into his very soul, causing him to become even more unsure.
"I have…something to ask," he said then, his sudden insecurity causing him to be less eloquent than he would have liked. He wanted to appear strong and able before his chief, not a nervous child!
"What is it, my brother?" The chief had patted the seat beside him, offering it so that he did not need to stand. Feeling a sort of soothing relief, he sat, staring at his hands. His chief waited patiently.
"I would like to ask for your daughter's hand in marriage."
The chief had fallen silent then, staring up into the night sky with its many stars. He had looked up as well, seeing the stars shining down on them like so many spirits. He was shocked out of his musings when the chief had placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Kocoum, it would make my heart sore for you to marry my daughter," the chief had said with a smile, causing his own heart to sore in joy with this answer. "You are strong, and steady. You have the strength to handle her wild ways and the consistency to flow with her ever changing emotions. It would be a good match."
The chief had then patted his shoulder and stood, moving to the fire so that he could douse it and the warriors could sleep.
When they returned to the village, he had seen the sea of faces, all eagerly greeting them back home.
He noticed that once again, she was not amongst the crowd.
They had landed on the shore, and the chief had brought him to the front of the ever-growing crowds, bringing him to his side as he regaled the village with their victorious battle. He stood with his arms crossed and his expression strong, looking out at the villagers as the chief praised his own part of the battle.
When the village shaman, Kekata, came up to him with the warrior paint, he had allowed his arms to drop and looked down as the old man pressed his fist against his chest, creating the paw prints of a bear to show his fighting spirit. He had taken a moment then to look at the crowds and saw her standing with Nakoma near the back, watching the entire procession.
He had tried to approach her once the chief had been done speaking, yet he was suddenly surrounded by a number of the village boys, all hanging around him and excitedly asking him how many of the enemy he killed, what was it like to fight a real battle, and was he scared at all? He had watched from the corner of his eye as the chief had taken his daughter to their hut at the top of the hill overlooking the village.
He had not seen her leave the village once the chief and she had left their hut, which had immediately put him on edge. So when they had received the news of strange, pale people coming onto shore on a boat unlike anything they had ever seen, he was immediately concerned with her safety. Yet because he had not seen what path she had taken, whether it was by boat or on foot, he had been unable to go look for her and return her to the safety of the village.
So instead, he had stayed behind and learned of these strange white men from the shaman.
"These are not men like us. They're strange beasts with bodies that shine like the sun, and weapons that spout fire, and thunder! They'll prowl the earth like ravenous wolves, consuming everything in their path."
He had watched as the images of the smoke circled around him, making him feel an odd thrill of danger and fear for these strange beings. It was this fear of the unknown that had caused him to speak.
"Great Powhatan! I will lead our warriors to the river and attack. We will destroy these invaders, the way we destroyed the Masowomics."
Yet he saw the chief swipe through the smoke fearlessly, looking at him with those soul-baring eyes.
"Kocoum! In that battle we knew how to fight our enemy. But these pale visitors are strange to us. Take some men to the river to observe them. Let us hope they do not intend to stay!"
With a nod, he had gathered the best hunters of the village and led them towards the river where the strange invaders were, hiding behind the trees and within the foliage. He spread out the men to different locations, telling them to find out how many there were. Crouching behind a tree with one of his more trusted companions, he watched the pale faces as they dug through the earth and cut down the trees of the forest, laying waste to everything that was near them.
It took a while, but soon he started to hear the bird calls of his brothers, and looked to his comrade for the numbers they were giving.
"There's thirty more of them down by the ridge."
"That makes more than a hundred!"
He had been shocked at the sheer number, wondering why there was so many and what had been their purpose. He had watched as one of his men had gone down to take a closer look, peeking over the trees where he was suddenly spotted.
"Savages! It's an ambush!"
It had been a horrible surprise when one of the pale faces had grabbed his strange weapon and fired it towards them, causing the bark of a tree to develop a groove from an unknown source. His men and he had panicked, knocking arrows on their bows and firing their own towards the enemy, hiding behind the trees for cover.
He had heard a sudden cry of pain and had turned to see one of his brothers down on the floor, clinging to his leg. "Nanantak!"
He had run over to aid him just as a pale face with a strange shining head came towards him. Grabbing a hold of the strange and dangerous weapon, he had pushed back the beast until he was knocked away, before crouching down to his friend and slinging him over his shoulders.
"Back to the village!" he had ordered quickly, knowing that their few warriors were no match for these invaders.
When they had returned to the village, he had immediately brought his friend to the shaman to see if he could heal his strange wound. He stood by the side as the old man worked, watching as his friend groaned in pain when he had never made a sound before during previous battles. To hear him now truly showed how strange and dangerous this wound and those weapons were.
"These beasts invade our shores, and now this," the chief had said vehemently, placing a hand on Nanantak's head to soothe him.
Kekata had suddenly put down his turtle shells, stopping his chanting with a grim look of resignation and confusion. "This wound is strange to me."
He had watched as the chief had risen then, turning to look at him. "We will fight this enemy, but we cannot do it alone." He had followed as the chief started to walk out of the healer's tent.
"Kocoum, send messengers to every village in our nation. We will call on our brothers to help us fight." the chief had ordered, stopping in front of the village. "These white men are dangerous. No one is to go near them."
It was when he had looked out into the crowd of faces that he had seen Nakoma, but not her. Instantly worry had filled him; where could she be, and why was she gone for so long? Did she not know that these pale faces were dangerous and would attempt to kill her on sight? He had wanted to go after her, to find her and bring her to the village and into his protection, yet he knew he could not, as he hadn't a clue as to where she could be within the trees.
It had been nearing evening when she had finally returned to the village, cradled in the shelter that was her father's arms as he explained the situation. She seemed dazed and unfocused, her mind on other things. He had wished so earnestly that he could be the one to hold her in that moment, to hide her from the coming dangers and to be her shelter, yet that would not be until they were wed. He had seen the necklace she wore, the same one that her mother had worn for years before her sudden death, and it made his heart swell, even amongst the dangers.
The following days he had rarely seen her, as she was always with Nakoma and they were always nowhere near the warriors as they prepared for battle, sharpening weapons, repairing body protection and preparing arrows.
Then one day, the chief had approached him and asked him to go out into the corn fields were Nakoma and his daughter were to protect them from danger. He had jumped to the opportunity, grabbing his spear and quickly leaving in the direction the chief had come. He had not liked the thought of her being so far from the village, as they didn't know where the pale faces were or how far their weapons could damage.
When he had appeared in the field, though, he only saw Nakoma by the stalks of corn. He had asked her where she was.
"I…I haven't seen her."
He had felt a sudden frustration at her whimsical ways then, even though that was what had caused him to fall for her in the first place. "Pocahontas can't keep running off, it's dangerous. Tell her that. She listens to you." The thought that she did not listen to him or her father had hurt him, as her disobedience caused them both to worry more than they could. He had left Nakoma, feeling resignation and frustration at the entire situation.
Nearing the setting of the sun, a sudden cry had gained attention throughout the village.
"The warriors are here!"
Leaving the fireside to go greet their fellow tribesmen, he had noticed she had returned in time to see the warriors come to shore.
"There you are!"
"Kocoum!"
He had marvelled at the sound of her voice when she said his name, wishing that she would say it more and not in this frightened surprise.
"Look at them!" he had proclaimed, his arm coming to rest around her shoulders. "Now we have enough warriors to destroy those white demons!"
They had then turned their attention to the chief as he began to speak.
"Now that we are joined by our brothers, we will defeat this enemy."
The chief had then turned away to enter the council tent, and she had run from him to go talk to her father. He had felt a sudden and painful feeling of loss and lack of acknowledgement. When he had turned to Nakoma to see what she thought of her behaviour as of late, all he saw was fear and worry.
When she had come up to him later that night outside of his home, he had not been very surprised to see the same fear and worry on her face; the expression had only made him more worried for her.
"Kocoum,"
"What is it?"
"It's…it's Pocahontas."
"What's wrong? Is she all right?" He had been able to feel the worry and agitation for her rise within his chest, filling him with an unexplainable anticipation.
"I think she's in trouble."
It had been those words that set him to action. Once demanding to know where she could have gone, he had run off into the forest, intent on bringing her back to the village safe and unharmed, where he could keep an eye on her and protect her as a husband should.
It had taken him a long time to reach the willow grove that Nakoma said she visited often, yet when he had arrived there she had already been there with someone else. He had ducked behind the trees, watching through the leaves as she spoke to a pale face. He had felt a swell of anger and betrayal at the way she had spoken to him tenderly, softly, as if he held a place close to her heart. He had watched as she wrapped her arms around him, whispering grateful words. He had watched, with growing betrayal and hurt, as the pale face pressed his lips to hers in a manner that only her husband had the right to do.
Overcome with the anger and the betrayal of the entire situation, he had run out into the grove and tackled the pale face to the ground, taking out his axe as he tried to impale the blade into the beast's shoulder. The pale face managed to flip him off though, making him loose grip on his weapon, yet he had simply pulled out his dagger instead. He then lunged towards him again, aiming the blade at his throat.
"Kocoum, no! Kocoum!"
Her voice filled the background, yet all he heard was his name in fear and anger, causing him to be more hurt and betrayed.
"Leave him alone!"
Her arms had wrapped around him then, trying to pull him off, and this action hurt him more than any battle wound had before. He pushed her off roughly, his face a vision of anger, his heard filled with screaming.
He could feel the pale face's strength leaving him, his blade coming closer and closer to his throat. He knew in just a few moments that he would win. He could hear her beside him, yet he ignored her words for he did not want to hear them. All they did was pain him more. Her hands gripped his arm, pulling him back, trying to stop him from killing the white demon below him.
And then suddenly he had heard the thunder of the pale faces' strange weapon, and he felt something enter his stomach that hurt more than a thousand arrows piercing his flesh. He gasped in pain, the first time in his life he had ever showed pain, and he blindly reached out towards her, gripping onto the blue beaded necklace of her mother who died an untimely death.
He watched her face alight with horror as he fell back, and he felt the necklace break in his fingers, before he fell into the water, his head filled with his last thoughts before death closed over him.
He had always noticed her.
Yet she had never noticed him.