A/N: I'm sorry for the really bad formatting in this story!! I hope you will still read this story..I'm sorry about it, and I'll try to fix it!

Also, this is a story that I have begun writing because Babyb26 (another Pocahontas author) gave me the idea and she let me post it here on !! Babyb26, I hope you'll still read this!!!!!!

I hope you'll like this, enjoy!!!

Chapter 2:

Early Autumn, 1608

It had been nearly two months since Pocahontas and John Smith's

wedding. Pocahontas and John had a hut in the village, much to

Pocahontas's relief. Although she trusted most white men, she wasn't

easily moved from her village. However, John and she visited

Jamestown at least once a week.

Presently, Pocahontas and Nakoma sat in the sunlight, working on

blankets for the upcoming winter.

"They say that this may be a harsh winter," Nakoma began

the lagging conversation.

"Yes, I think it may be," Pocahontas replied, not in the

mood to talk.

"How is married life?"

Nakoma asked instead, for she was still unmarried;

"It's nice, very... different."

"Different how?"

"I don't know, it's just, everyday I fall more in love with the

man."

"Oh, what's he like? I mean, as a husband."

"As a husband? Nakoma, well; he's very kind to me."

"How?"

Her friend leaned in for more details

"Nakoma," Pocahontas blushed, "he's wonderful."

Pocahontas replied then laughed, "get married yourself."

"I just may," her friend retorted.

It was Pocahontas's turn to lean inwards;

"Really?"

"Yes, Dyami has asked my father if he may seek my hand in

marriage!"

"What, Dyami?"

"Yes, I'm thinking of going through with it, he's a good man,

he's sweet, a little serious but I like that."

"Nakoma, he seems a bit harsh to me," Pocahontas replied,

concern on her face.

"He's just very traditional," Nakoma defended.

"But, are you sure?"

Her friend returned with a huge smile, "Yes, I'm sure, you'll

see, I think you're upset because you married John and Dyami

is," she paused.

"Very traditional and even went as far as asking my father if he

could speak out against it," Pocahontas finished.

"Exactly, can't you just forget about that," Nakoma

retorted, getting to her feet, "and help me with these

blankets?"

"Sure," Pocahontas replied as she got to her feet. As she

stood, she felt a strange nausea feeling wash over her. She placed a

hand on her stomach, as if she were to be sick.

"Pocahontas, are you...."

But her best friend had promptly dropped the blankets and sprang

towards the river that was a few feet away.

A few moments later, Pocahontas wiped her face with the cooling water

that the river provided and slowly rose to her feet. She smiled and

put a hand on her stomach, sighing with relief that she was certain

now of the growing babe inside of her. To be sure, Pocahontas

visited the village midwife wich confirmed her theory.

Later that evening before the sun was about to set, Pocahontas

watched as her husband stooped in order to get through the small

doorway of there hut. Smiling, Pocahontas stirred the pot of stew and

waited for John to take his usual seat by the fire. When he did not,

she looked up, "John, what is it?" He didn't answer,

instead he sat at his usual place and waited for the food. When all

was set for dinner, Pocahontas sat down and questioned her husband

once more, "John, something wrong?"

"No, I'm fine," he replied as he began eating. Pocahontas

knew that something was wrong, but she let it go and enjoyed the

dinner.

"John, I have something to tell you," Pocahontas said, as

the couple sat by the fire, later that evening.

"What is it?"

John inquired

"John, I'm with child," Pocahontas announced and smiled.

"You're going to have a baby?"

"Yes John, in about seven months," she retorted as he

placed a hand on her flat stomach.

"Oh love," he breathed, pulling her close to him as she

layed her head on his shoulder.

"You're going to make a wonderful father John," Pocahontas

said as her lips touched his in a tender kiss, "just like your

father was towards you."

John jerked away as if she slapped him;

"Don't ever compare me to my father again," John said, his

tone hard, "I am nothing like him."

John watched as his young wife cringed away from him;

"I'm sorry," she whispered, unsure how to respond for he

had never taken a tone like that towards her.

"No darling, I am," he said as he leaned towards her and

took her in his strong arms.

"What was he like?"

John shut his eyes, fighting the memories that flooded him

"I don't want to speak about it love," he said as he got up

and secured the hut's door, "I don't ever want to speak of

it."

"Oh John, what is it?"

Pocahontas inquired, standing and walking towards him, "tell me,

please."

"Pocahontas, no," he said firmly. He walked back towards

his wife and took her in his arms again, holding her tight against

him, shutting his blue eyes and breathed in the scent of her

beautiful raven like hair.

He would not make the memories rise again; it took him too many years

to Barry them. So he distracted himself with,

"Pocahontas," he whispered as he slowly untied the leather

strings that held her dress.

"May we, my love," he whispered as he softly kissed her and

his fingertips found the soft smooth skin of her back.

Pocahontas took in a deep breath, and John stopped what he was doing.

"If it will hurt the baby, we don't have to."

"No, it won't hurt it, I asked the midwife."

"Then?..."

She answered him by gently guiding him over to the bed they shared

and John kissed her in relief that his memories of his past were

safely hidden once again.