Yes, I said I would finish and finish I shall! Thank you for all the praise and critique especially! Happy 2012.

Later that evening, Titanic steamed into a bustling port in Cherbourg, Ireland to take on a fresh new load of passengers. Rose was curious and wanted to see the emerald hills of Ireland, but she was kept locked up in her cabin until dinnertime, due to her mother's disgust of third class passengers and insisting that the heat of day burned both her heart and her prized ivory skin.

She also sneered something about the ship being too crowded but Rose had already ceased to listen to her, instead choosing to work on her stitching of a red rose with the quote 'A rose by any other name would smell as sweet,' etched on it with glossy red string. It was a useless, ladylike task that made her mother happy and kept Rose's trembling hands busy.

However, the flash of the silver needle was soon lost amidst the white stitching canvas, and Rose absentmindedly pricked her pale, delicate skin several times due to her lack of attention. She ignored the slow trickle of blood that oozed from the tiny cut, almost unaware of its presence in the first place. Her thoughts were in a complicated jumble, and they were as difficult to separate as the knots in her stitching.

They were wrapped around the wedding mostly, but that was normal. She knew from her friends that every bride experiences anxiety amidst all that needs to be done for such perfect, frilly-white occasions. But Rose's worries weren't centered around marzipan wedding cakes or eyelet gown lace, they were fixed steadfastly on what the exchanging vows and the signing of the wedding contract would really do to her.

What sort of power would she give to Cal after her signature appeared on the line of that dreaded legal document?

She was so deeply bothered that she forgot to mind her emotions displaying against her sharp features. Frowning was strictly forbidden in the realm of a woman's world, after all, wrinkles did not appeal to handsome millionaires.

Childishly, she wondered that if she spent the entire sea-voyage twisting her facial expression this way and that, it would create etches in her alabaster forehead that Cal would find so repulsive he would discreetly withdraw from the engagement.

She dismissed the thought, suddenly aware of the cold platinum band around her finger, the solid weight of the clear cut diamond that split light into several colorful dimensions, multiplying and mirroring them inside its high-karat prisms.

It was a dreadful, heavy thing. Almost garish in appearance, and Rose constantly found herself twisting the rind so that the diamond faced down into her palm, away from the hungry eyes of those less fortunate than she. Though she had kept her head high and her shoulders back, there was always a lingering sent of unwanted guilt whenever she allowed a commoner to meet her eye.

"Miss?"

Rose's head snapped back expectantly to the soft ring of Trudy's voice, hesitant and full of class-awareness. She stood with a tired slack to her face, a handful of ribbons and a brush in her palms.

Rose was so deep in the ocean of her thoughts she stared at the maid as if she had never seen her before. "What is it?" She didn't mean to come off sounding brisk, and regretted the fearful step-back that Trudy took.

"It's time for dinner, Miss."

"New money." Rose's mother scoffed, her velvety red eyebrow poised in a proud arch that was very much class-aware.

Rose watched a stout, thick-lipped woman with small brown eyes, full cheeks, and dark brown hair that was gathered under a feathered hat yell obscenely at millionaires in Italian waistcoats who smiled at the short woman with mock politeness and genuine amusement.

Her name was Margaret Brown.

They all called her Molly.

Rose did not detect anything in the woman's appearance that seperated her from the rest of them. Her mother shouldn't scoff so, not since they were living off the wealth of a good name, with not a penny of posession behind it.

Rose decided that she liked Molly brown, with her crude jokes and American twang; and sitting across from her at the dining room table, it was the first time Rose was able to smile in the whole evening.

She laughed, too - genuinely - even while wearing a corset. :)

hank you for all your reviews, happy new year! :)