In the morning she tells Thomas to pack a bag, and does the same. John wakes to finds her putting hairbrush, ribbons, pins into a box.
'What are you doing, Rebecca?'
'Sorry. I did not mean to wake you.'
'No, I mean- why are you…' His voice trails into the air, as he meets her guilty gaze.
'I have to do this, John.'
'Do what?'
'Thomas said,' she puts in her underskirt, clean handkerchiefs, an old compass dug with frenzied fingers from the ground 'that they need protection the King does not think them high enough to grant. A captain come pirate and his bastard daughter. But I,' her movements are harsh, violent 'I am their pet. I am the tamed savage, who wears dresses and bears the son of a white man. I am the heathen who has embraced their God, and they love me for it, and if they will not listen to him they will listen to me.'
'You're talking nonsense, Rebecca-'
'My name is not Rebecca! My name is Pocahontas.'
For a moment they freeze. They stand, one on either side of the bed, both breathing hard.
'My name is Pocahontas. I am a Powhatan. And you can come with me or stay here.'
John nods.
'You are sailing with him, then?'
'It is the fastest way.'
'I will not share his ship.'
'Then come later.' She goes to march out of the door, but he catches her arm.
There is a wilderness in her eyes he has hoped to never see again.
'Reb- Pocahontas. I do love you.'
A silence. A lungful of air.
'I love you too, John. But I have to do this. He saved your life. He saved mine. I'm doing this because he is our friend. And I am doing this for our son.'
She kisses him, and then goes to join her son in the garden. Thomas shakes his father's hand, then off they go, walking down the path, to Jamestown.
John Rolfe stands beside the gate, and watches their dark heads grow smaller in the morning sun.