Finding Home
Chapter One - The Arrival.
Disclaimer: I don't own Once Upon A Time, or any of it's characters. All original characters are my own. This story has been inspired by events of history, although it will not follow the factual timeline. Furthermore, this has also been inspired by the setting of the show Jamestown
1617
Hues of grey rolled through sky, coaxing storm clouds to rock the singular vessel from side to side. Waves crashed with great magnitude, pushing the ship through the ocean, as it's passengers clung to any surface which could provide support from the nausea caused from the weeks at sea. One poor girl, for she could scarcely be called a woman, spent many hours of the day clinging to the wooden bucket, as others tried to comfort her with what little that they could.
She pushed the piece of salted pork across her tin plate, which she'd come to find tiresome to eat. There was certainly trepidation in her bones, given the nature of this journey. Little fortune was offered to her in England, and she'd worked in a shop and made something of a living, but being an orphan meant that there was very little to leave behind.
Advertisements had been dotted around for some time, with very few initially wanting to accept - it was quite the undertaking. But the flyers offered prosperity, a chance at a new age, to make something of themselves. There was a catch of course, the real reasoning behind the requirement for women. Too many restless men, and a dying colony. How could it prosper without the additional sex to create further generations, and stop the men from going mad. It was always about the men.
They had proclaimed that women would not so easily be silenced, that democracy would be offered...at least until the marriage bed, then ownership would take over. Freedom was granted, until the 'I do's' left their mouths.
"Poor thing! She's been crying all night." The voice interrupted her thoughts, a woman with sable locks pinned back in a twist and a kind smile resting on rosy cheeks. Throughout the weeks, she'd been introduced to every person on the boat and their stations before they departed from England. Of course, she'd never been one for socialising and generally kept to herself.
Friendships were not easily found, but the woman had been persistent and eventually Emma had been worn down, as much as she was able.
"The salty air is making everyone lose their wits." Emma declared, collecting her fraying fan to waft herself. The air was stifling, and she could not wait to settle her feet on dry land. Of course, she couldn't help but worry about what her future husband would be like.
"The colony is a night away. I daresay the Governor's wife will be glad to get off the ship, especially in her condition." Mary-Margaret declared, casting a look over to Belle, who was settled behind a desk with a book in one hand and her other palm pressed to the crowning swell of her stomach. Robert Gold had left on the previous boat to the Americas four months prior, leaving behind his wife to discover herself to be with child.
There were reportedly a cluster of women already living in Jamestown, ones who had moved a few years prior and settled into the colony as best they could, but the absence of more had made the men grow restless. Just under 100 women sat on the boat with her, all sailing towards the glorious new world which was being promised.
"We ought to sleep. Tomorrow is likely to be a trying day," Emma sighed, locking her fingers together on her lap. Her companion nodded in agreement. A sigh of relief left her lips, for she could once again be with her own thoughts. The world was so very cruel, and it had made her grow harder. She wondered if everyone felt as negative about the move as she did, for she couldn't help but expect the worst.
"Damnations," she heard a woman mutter, so she inclined her head towards the noise only to see the Governor's wife slamming closed her book with some fury. She rose from her spot, leaving a sleeping Mary-Margaret, who appeared to have fallen asleep within mere minutes of it being decided.
"Lady Gold," Emma greeted, earning a smile from the young woman. Despite the age of the governor, Belle could be only a few years older than Emma's twenty year old self. Little was known about her predecessor, except that she was quite vapid and died too young. Some whispered that it may have been Robert Gold himself who murdered his wife, but that was only by those who opposed him. She'd died trying to bring his child into the world, both mother and son in God's hands.
"Please Emma, call me Belle. This new adventure does not split us apart in the way that English society does, we shall be equal. My husband has written to me that there are some worthy gentlemen in Virginia, I daresay you shall be well treated." Emma did not speak, so the sable haired woman continued to fill the air with conversation. "I do apologise for my unladylike outburst. I was up on deck with my book earlier this evening, it seems that a wave has caused the ink to run and I can no longer finish the story."
It was quite unheard of, for a woman to be so well read. But there were those who had started to break past those boundaries, ever since the reign of Elizabeth more women had felt empowered. Of course, she had little means to learn how to read until she met Granny Lucas, not her grandmother but instead a woman who insisted on being called 'Granny'. The elderly woman who owned the shop, had taught her how to read and write, so that she may go further in life. It was her who had encouraged Emma to take the chance.
In truth, Emma had never felt like England was her home, and she certainly didn't miss it. More than anything, she wanted to find somewhere or something that she would miss and feel tethered to. All her life she'd been an orphan, alone for her entire life.
"I hope they have the book in Jamestown, do they have many books for us to read? Or do you think your husband would send for them if you asked."
A smile stretched over Belle's warm features, hand darting out to grab Emma's and pull her to sit beside her, instead of standing without need. "Mistress Regina writes to me from time to time, she was one of the first to move over there. Her husband Mr Locksley, is secretary to my own husband - although I know that he also enjoys hunting in the forest from time to time. She complains that he'll come home smelling like the trees. But in any case, she says that their resources have grown over the years and there are certainly books to be read. To answer your question, my husband would request books to be delivered with the next ship."
"I know very little about the colony, so it is good to hear." She was surprised to find such a useful source of information in Belle, for she felt certain that the woman would have certain prejudices against her.
"The colony has expanded tremendously. Land is full of tobacco, house has expanded in size and it's starting to look a little less dusty. I've been begging Robert to build a library and a school, they will certainly be required with the children that a to grow up there. I know that Regina is tutor to her own children at the moment." Belle tapped her fingers across the table, before leaning closer. "Did you know the commodore on this ship is to marry one of you? There wasn't a lot of assistance from the Royal Navy when Jamestown was struggling. But now that more women and going across, and the land is thriving, this will be the home of some of the Navy men, including the commodore."
Her interactions with men on board the ship had been limited, as she'd spent her time either to herself, or conversing with Mary-Margaret. "I did not know that, my lady."
"His sister is amongst the women, she is the unfortunate one who cannot seem to keep anything down. Aurora already knows her betrothed, her brother made sure of it."
"Well he is either very protective, or he knows that not all men in the colony are noble. I shall leave you to rest now," Emma announced, moving from the bench which she'd sat on beside Belle. There was a small sway in her step, as she walked back to her spot beside Mary-Margaret, who had taken to snoring lightly. She would not dare to bring it up the next morning, in fear of embarrassing the woman.
Brushing down the soft blue of her dress, she smiled as Mary-Margaret twisted the back of her hair as a sister would have done, if she'd been fortunate to have one. Nerves bubbled in the pit of her stomach, but there was an air of anxiousness aboard the ship, with many women stumbling and allowing themselves to grow fly into a passion, all through their fear of the unknown. Not that Emma could blame them.
She noticed that Aurora was tending to a young girl, who seemed quite attached to her. There was certainly a familiarity between the two, from the way in which Aurora pressed kisses to the top of her head and the young girl chatted with such vibrancy.
When Mary-Margaret looped her arm through Emma's and began to walk, she was forced to follow in line with the dark haired woman's footsteps. A melody was hummed on her companion's lips, and there was something so sweet and comforting about the tune, it almost made her feel at solitude was not found aboard the ship, aside from on the features of the men, who had travelled the waters many times before.
Her arms filtered over the side of the ship, glancing at the land which grew nearer and nearer. "There it is. The new world," she muttered, sarcasm twisted in her tone. Many bodies rushed to the sides, all hoping to catch a glimpse of their new home, as though it were not mere minutes away.
She'd spent so much of her time thinking about the prospect of moving, or running from England and had barely thought about her new reality. She was to be married, somebodies wife and it would be to a man that she does not yet know. Emma didn't think she would be a very good wife, beyond the basic duties of a woman, she had not learnt how to be loving or obedient. Her nature had always been described as somewhat wilful and closed off, it certainly wouldn't make a warm bed.
"Judas," she sighed, wringing her fingers into knots.
Everything happened quickly, efficiently, and without issue. A walkway between the boat and the dock was secured, women lined up to disembark and proceed to their new future. She lingered near the back, not wanting to appear over enthused, for she certainly was not.
The bodice of her gown felt tight, the summer heat sticking to her, the moment that she stepped off the boat and onto the new land. She would not call it home, but it would be her residence. The company had paid for her passage, just like all the other women, and she doubted they would take kindly to her running away. Maybe it would be all that she could hope for, but it could just as easily be a prison sentence.
Women supplied their name to a gentleman, who shouted out the names of other men, who would step forward to claim their woman. It felt like they were cattle in a market, but they had been given a voice. The Governor's wife had explained their rights prior to marriage, that they may certainly decline the man they are paired with, but they must marry eventually. She imaged that this was for instances of cruelty from a man,, or an ill-match.
When it was her turn, she walked forward, keeping as much control over her features as she could muster. It was too much to hope that she could find a family, happiness. Emma didn't want to spend her life alone.
"Emma Swan," she stated to the man, who looked down at the scroll settled against the table. His rough fingers scanned the ink, looking for her name. He looked at her, a smirk upon his features. "Killian Jones," he shouted, before turning towards her. "He will most likely still be aboard the ship you came on."
A frown stretched over her features, the man who she was supposed to marry had been on the ship with her. She wondered what position he held, how old this Killian Jones was. Kind or cruel? Noble or sinful? Too many questions to put to a name.
A young girl walked forward and grasped her by the hand, beaming up at her. "Pardon me, miss. Uncle Killy, sorry, Uncle Killian said that I should collect you, when his name was called." She recognised the girl, the one who had been clinging to Aurora. The woman who she'd seen be paired with Philip, the town's doctor. Quite a handsome fellow, she thought, but not entirely her taste. She'd always liked a man with a bit of scruff on his cheeks, not that she'd had many dealings with men.
"Okay," Emma responded, unable to formulate any further response to the girl.
"My name is Violet, Violet Jones." The girl was likely around six or seven years in age, certainly old enough to formulate a sentence, but still childish in many of her actions and statements. Despite the darkness which crowned Aurora, the young girl had honey blonde hair, but some strands appeared almost icy white in the sunlight. The soft pink of the young girls dress grew dirty from the ground, as they both followed a man who was showing them to Killian's house.
It was larger than most, and in a slightly more secluded space. Slowly she'd pieced together the facts, she was to marry the commodore. Worthiness did not fill her, and she felt certain that a commodore should marry a gentle lady of fine breeding, not a street rat like herself. It was likely the opinion of others, and she loathed that they would declare it true. She didn't like to be told who she was, she wanted to show who she was, what she was capable of.
The man departed, leaving Violet and Emma alone in the entrance of the house, which was almost certainly empty. The wood creaked slightly when she stepped in, and she could tell that no one had lived there in some weeks. The air felt stale and close, the windows would certainly need to be opened. It was clear that the commodore had visited once or twice, for items which would only be described as personal, decorate the house making it seem less like a skeleton.
Dust clung to the fabrics in the house, although from what Belle had suggested, it was far worse before. But what more could be expected, giving that they were still expanding the colony?
Her fingers drifted over furniture, lip caught between her teeth as she chewed nervously.
Minutes later the door creaked, and she turned to see a man in naval uniform, but with the grandiose of a higher position. Words escaped her, as he cocked an eyebrow up at her.
"I was hoping it would be you."
So there's the first chapter.
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Thanks for reading.
