Disclaimer: I have no rights to Titanic; I'm just a mere fan who tried to come up with something unusual, writing a story touching a point that so far wasn't touched in any Titanic fanfic I ever saw, yet. The beta was Rachel Greenwood. If you enjoyed this story, let me know this by leaving a nice review. And go to see my other Titanic fanfics.
"The Pride"
The door of the fuggy pawn shop creaked as it got opened, and through the mahogany colored door there fell a stream of afternoon light and a gust of cold March air that for a moment refreshed the fusty atmosphere. The large man in his fifties who sat behind the dilapidated counter, which had been dyed to match the door in an ill-fated attempt at elegance, raised his small dark eyes, obscured by thick glasses, to look at the young woman in an elegant grey dress who stood before him. She wore a determined look on her pale face, on which no trace of make-up was found; it was framed with long, wavy dark ginger hair, that sneaked out from a small fashionable hat adorned with artificial flowers and flowed down her shoulders. It was a very pretty face indeed, he thought, even if her nose and chin were a bit too protruding. Nevertheless, the young woman – she couldn't have turned thirty yet – was very attractive, even if Mr. Bowman, behind whom there were numerous shelves filled with various sorts of goods – from a shining trombone to a luxurious lamp – was much less interested in what his new customer looked like than in what she was holding in her gloved hand. As she approached him, she put her hand in the pocket of her coat, and with one smooth movement pulled a heart shaped sapphire hanging from an intricate gold chain from it. Without saying a word, she held it out to him. If Mr. Ephraim Bowman, the owner of the Los Angeles pawn shop, the signboard above the door of which announced urbi and orbi "Bowman and Sons", had been less interested in the jewel in the hand of the newcomer and had raised his eyes fixed on it to her face instead, he would have clearly seen, if only for just a mere moment – so short that was almost imperceptible - that her expression had changed to one of a strange sort of triumph and pride.
Rose Dawson indeed did have a reason for her triumph. For the last ten years, since she survived the catastrophe of Titanic; the ship of dreams, losing in it her beloved one – actually her whole family who still thought her dead – Miss DeWitt Bukater, as she had been known then, had led a difficult life, to which her upbringing as a high society girl hadn't prepared her – it couldn't – in any way. The girl raised in an upper class society had taken numerous jobs ever since, ones placing a strain on her body and mind. The ex-rich girl worked as a servant in numerous homes in Los Angeles where she had gone to avoid being recognized. Being a servant was a difficult job – she had never thought before how difficult, back in the days when she still enjoyed the pleasures of life in a rich family, one of which was being taken care of by their numerous servants. For a moment, the woman closed her eyes and let her memories from that time flow in front of her eyes. A difficult life. She wasn't used to working hard. All those hours spent on working hard – as a servant and later on as a laundry worker – work she wasn't used to. Many times Rose DeWitt Bukater – no, now Rose Dawson, had to remind herself that she couldn't sell the diamond. She was a very proud young woman and decided that regardless of how hard her work might be, she couldn't get rid of it. It was the matter of pride; she was going to prove to herself that she could survive on her very own, without any help from Cal. Many times, the girl pulled the diamond out of the chest and sighing, swore to herself that she wasn't going to let Cal win. She did her best to get jobs as an actress, taking small roles in movies, believing it would get her closer to achieving a success in the world of film.
And it had. Now, Rose Dawson was quite a wealthy woman; it was still very far from what she was used to and she still hoped she was going to achieve a bigger success, nevertheless Rose did have a pretty house now – one, in which it was she now who gave work to a servant this time. Rose Dawson wasn't very famous, as she took mostly minor roles – which on the other hand, actually was quite good because it helped insure she wouldn't be discovered by her family, yet they still were well paid enough to make it possible for Miss Dawson to afford everything she had been missing since she left her old life. Her hope that she was going to get a taste of what she had once known, was the fuel for the proud woman. During many sleepless nights, Rose imagined the new life she was going to lead after she finally become a well-known actress, promising to herself that then – and only then – she was going to sell the diamond. Even if it meant Cal in was in some way going to find out that the jewel thought to be lost at sea, had been miraculously found, she would still have the satisfaction that she had earned everything she had herself. That it wasn't thanks to Cal's money, money which she would have earned by selling something that actually belonged to him – she didn't perceive herself the rightful owner of the Heart of the Ocean – that she managed to achieve something in her new life. Herself. No one else helped her; not Cal Hockley nor anyone else. Selling the diamond when she already had managed to achieve something was the right thing to do. She did have money now. She didn't actually need what she would get it for.
Rose Dawson smiled to herself. Yes; it was a great revenge on Caledon, her snobbish ex fiancée; proving him that she was perfectly capable of surviving on her own, even if he himself wouldn't see it that way – not even if he saw her working hard and leading a life so different from her old one, and thinking the struggle was going to last forever. The proud woman wanted to be able to say she didn't need to thank anyone – Mr. Hockley or anyone else – for anything she had now. It gave her an odd happiness not many people would be able to understand. Now the day had finally come and Rose – wealthy and independent – and still proud - was finally going to get rid of the diamond, once and for all, the diamond which had never really been hers at all. She held the jewel out further, nodding for him to take it, smiling. She smiled more widely and closed her eyes. Rose Dawson didn't care how much money she was going to get for it. She wasn't particularly interested in the money. She decided she was going to spend it on poor children or something like that. She was a very proud woman and finally she managed to make it.
The obese man's voice snatched the actress from her thoughts. "Two dollars," he said in a deep voice, perfectly fitting the size of his body.
"But…"
"I know what I'm talking about, Miss. Oh, dear, I do hope you didn't think this was a real gem." The man took his glasses off and looked at her with care, as he was cleaning them with the hem of the sleeve of his shirt. "This is just a very realistic looking imitation. It does resemble a real sapphire or a blue diamond even – assuming something like this exists" – here the man giggled nervously - and this is why I'm giving you such a high sum for this. But the stone itself isn't worth much. It's just a cheap artificial trinket."
Inspired by "The Necklace" by De Maupassant.