Hello once again! This is my second Pocahontas fic. I haven't had a chance 2 read many other Pocahontas fics, so I hope mine doesn't have anything similar to anyone else's. If it does, please include that in your review and I'll take a look. Hope you enjoy it!
Summary: This is Nakoma's view of the story. It is told by her.
By: Pepe ok
Disclaimer: I do not own any characters from or associated with Disney's Pocahontas, and I am making no profit from writing this story.
I was in the field picking corn when I heard the familiar sound that signaled the warriors had come back. I gathered my corn and walked to the side of the river with the rest of the women. All except one, of course. Pocahontas, my best friend since childhood was, once again, nowhere to be found. She had run off earlier this morning.
Her father, and our chief, the great Powhatan, was in front of our people, beginning to tell them of what had occurred.
"Chesk-cham-ay!" he called, our formal way of getting attention. "The Massawomecks are defeated! With the help of our brothers, Our villages are safe again." The people cheered and I smiled as I went to the river to bring Pocahontas back. I paddled out into the bay. I almost immediately spotted her on the highest cliff overlooking where I was. It had become one of her favourite places since her mother died two years ago.
"Pocahontas!" I called up to her. "Your father's back! Come down here!" I see her run towards the woods and sigh in relief that she'll use the normal way of getting to the village for once. I was about to paddle back when I saw her leap off the side of the cliff.
"NO! Not that…way." She falls gracefully with her back in a perfect arch, until she hits the surface of the water. I smirk.
"Show off." She doesn't come up after a few seconds. I always worry her free-spirited nature will lead her to get hurt. In another way, I admire how she'll follow her heart and not care what people think. I lean over the edge to see if I can see her below the water.
"Pocahontas? Are you all right? Well, you better be all right, because I'm not coming in after Y-o-uu!" It becomes obvious to me that Pocahontas has once again led me to be the object of one of her silly games. We surface under the overturned canoe.
"Don't you think we're getting a little old for these games?" I ask. In response, she spits water in my face. I laugh and splash her back. She has this way of making me laugh and let my playful side show. When we tire of our game, we prepare to head back to land. When the canoe in overturned, she wrings out her hair.
"What were you doing up there?" I ask.
"Thinking." She answers, flipping her hair over her shoulder.
"About the dream again? Have you figured it out yet?"
"I know it means something, I just don't know what." She has told me that for many nights she has been having s very strange dream about a spinning arrow. She still can't make sense of it and neither can i.
"You should ask your father about it." I suggest. She is lucky enough to have one of the wisest men in the tribe as her father. Since my Mother died giving birth to me and my father soon after, I was raised by my elderly grandparents. While they have been and still are loving and kind, I feel I was almost robbed of the chance to have a real family. I shake the thoughts away.
"Maybe I should." She says. She pulls her little hummingbird friend out of the water. "Come on, Flit. Quit playing around. We have to get back." That makes me smile, for it is usually she who is doing the playing around. We paddle to the mainland as Powhatan is talking about the battle they have endured. Beside him is the best skilled and best looking warrior we have, Kocoum.
"Oh, he is so handsome." I whisper to Pocahontas. She nods.
"I especially love his smile." She says. We cheer as he is marked with the symbol of the bear. The crowd disbands and I walk off to my grandparent's home.
"Wingapo, Nakoma." My Grandmother says to me as I enter. She is in the process of weaving a skirt out of yucca fibers.
"Wingapo." I reply. I grab a small pouch of corn. I take it back outside and begin to grind it with a few other women. I am rather quiet, as I keep thinking about Pocahontas and her dream. Could this dream really be telling her something? Would it only concern her, or our whole tribe? My thoughts lead me back inside to my Grandmother. I put down the rest of the corn.
"Grandmother, have you ever had any strange dreams? Have they ever told you something was coming?" I ask. She puts down her weaving and looks at me.
"The spirits have many ways of communicating with us, Nakoma. One is through dreams. " She sighs and looks down at me. "Yes, I've had a dream like that."
"What did it tell you?"
"I was no more than a young woman at the time. I was around twenty-three. I was about to have my first child, who later became your mother. Now, right around that time a horrible epidemic struck the tribe. Many people died, and hundreds were gravely ill. Many nights your grandfather and I prayed to the Great Spirit that, when our baby was born, she would not suffer from the disease. That night, when I went to sleep, I had a very strange dream. I saw myself in a canoe on the river. Soon, a storm aroused and my canoe capsized, so I was forced to spend the night in the woods among to flowers. I was terrified, for I had never been away from the village alone at night before. I remember I heard the winds whisper "Migina" to me. I didn't know what it meant, but as the moon rays poured down on me, I felt safe. The moon's light was like a shield from all danger. I woke up the next morning, still thinking about my dream. I talked to my husband and asked if he thought it meant anything. He wasn't sure what it meant, so we dismissed it as just another dream. But the next night, I had it again. The same safe moon, the same winds whispering "Migina." The night after that, your mother was born. I held her, and once again I heard that wind whispering to me. The moon was full that night, and once again I was secure and safe. I suddenly understood what my dream was trying to tell me, and I named your mother Migina."
"I don't understand." I said. "What did your dream mean?"
"The moon spirit was protecting me that night in my dream. I named your mother Migina, which means 'recurring moon.' She never got the disease, for I believe the moon spirit came back to protect her. So you see, our dreams can mean a lot more than one might think." I nod.
"Thank you, grandmother. I'll think about that." I say and leave the hut. I never knew about any of that. Perhaps some of the knowledge could help Pocahontas understand her dream, and perhaps point me down my path at the same time.
That's chapter one. Please leave a review. Constructive criticism is welcome. The story will pick up when the action gets started. Chapter 2 up soon. Thanks for reading!