A/N: Hi all!

*Clears Throat* Uh yeah, I know seven Christmases have gone by since I've updated this series. The fact I had only three more one-shots to write before it would be complete has really bothered me over the years.

The good news is I have grown as a writer since I first published these fics. And, to make up for such a long absence I have a nice one-shot for you below. My thanks and gratitude always goes out to Babyb26 and HC247 for their help with details and endless amounts of encouraging words.

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to everyone! I hope you all have a wonderful year ahead. Please review on your way out it truly helps keep my writing muses alive. Thank you and Enjoy!

My inspiration for this story is due to the song, "All I Want for Christmas is you," by Mariah Carey.

DISCLAIMER: Seven years ago I told you that I did not own anything to do with Disney's Pocahontas nor the actual events. Alas, nothing has changed.

#10: All I Want for Christmas is you.

-…..-…

The wind and snow beat relentlessly against the windows of the decorated palace. Candlelight illuminated the ropes of garland, holly and mistletoe. The festive colors, wine, and food of all sorts amongst lay piled high on gleaming gold trays. The people attending the gathering had dressed in their best finery and the room was filled with mirth. A feeling of gayety swept through the ballroom as happy couples danced, whilst men laughed and chatted amicably with one another. The music soared as if on wings of angels and servants wove around dancing couples as they carried trays of beautifully adorned pastries.
None of that mattered to the couple who had left the party unnoticed.
Nor made a difference to the cold night that was Frigid and unforgiving. Icy wintry gusts blew right through you and stole the breath of all brave enough to venture out of the gilded hall.
The night was Dark and damp with nothing but the blowing snow and howling wind for company. The wind echoed throughout the room and sent a mournful cry towards the inky sky. The sound of the wind filled the silence, making the void between them more pronounced. It was as if the wind knew that a reckoning was at hand and it mourned what could have been.

What should have been.

He stood stoically on one side of the small sitting room whilst she paced and wrung her hands.

"Your silence speaks for itself."

Her head shot up at his statement, "How can you say that?"

"I think you know very well."

"No, no I do not," she retorted as her eyes narrowed, "I am in shock. That is why I am quiet. I was not expecting that announcement. Judging from the stunned looks you received I was not the only one."

"And yet you were the only one who requested to have a word with me, merely to end up in this parlor."

"I thought I needed to speak with you in private."

Captain John Smith moved closer, intending to touch her shoulder as she paced. His fingers scarcely brushed the heavy silk of her gown as she turned to face him. He allowed his hands to drop to his sides.

"I am an explorer for his Majesty. I was bound to have to leave England at some time. As they say, no time like the present."

"Have you been outside? Tis horrible for travel!"

"I am not leaving at this moment," he replied, "We will see how things are next week or so."

As if in warning the window shook, the bitter wind swaying the heavy curtains.

"Are you mad? Next week? I do not think you are…"

"Pocahontas," he interrupted, "You should not concern yourself with this. After all, you have big plans of your own that you will be very busy handling."

"My wedding is not until the spring season."

"Is that so?"

"Yes."

Silence fell between them, only to be punctuated by the wintery storm outside along with the sounds of the ball. A sudden shiver went through Pocahontas as she glanced at the low fire at the other end of the room.

"No wonder it is freezing in here."

"Were you aware that we left for Virginia five days before Christmas?"

"I am sorry," Pocahontas began as she moved towards the small blaze in the fireplace, "What did you say?"

The captain watched as the woman tended to the dying flames. John Smith gazed on in slight amusement as she took off her elegant gloves. She placed them on the chaise that sat in front of the hearth before continuing her task.

"We left on the twentieth of December."

Startled, the native quickly turned only to see that he now stood behind her, "The elements were identical to what you are observing this night."

Pocahontas could not help her sardonic inquiry, "I hope you had the sense to leave during daylight?"

John Smith laughed as he sat on the chaise, offering her the gloves that had been given this very night. He watched as Pocahontas leaned forward, now warming herself by the crackling fire as she glanced back at him.

His sudden query conveyed his impatience, "What is it you wish to discuss with me?"

She straightened as her breath faltered, "Well, I, I simply wanted to admonish you for choosing such a reckless time for travel. It is not safe and."

"Admonish hell," he spat whilst he glared, "Do you think I am that dimwitted to accept that explanation?"

"No."

"Do you think I am too polite to not call you out on your explanation?"

"I."

Pocahontas sighed as she smoothed her hands over her dark hair, "John."

He ignored how softly she spoke his name. A moment's pause was heard only to be interspersed by the crackling of the fire. Yet when John Smith spoke, his tone was as cold and bitter as the blustery night that surrounded them.

"If polite conversation is what you seek I suggest you seek out John Rolfe. I am past all that with you. I suggest you go and take those dainty gloves and whatever else he has gifted you with and."

"I do not care for nor desire his gifts."

"Then I advise you inform him of."

"Do you ever allow anyone else to speak?"

"Pocahontas."

"No," her voice slightly rose as she cut him off whilst glaring, "I sought you out. I asked for a word with you. I lied to you. I did those things."

Stunned into silence he could do nothing as she stood in front of him the gloves balled in a fist at her side, "I am not getting married in the spring."

"What?"

"You heard me."

Incredulous blue eyes met her own in the firelight, "Humor me. Say it again."

"I am not getting married in the spring."

Her hands fidgeted with the silk gloves as she glanced down prior to looking at him, "I told him this evening that I must stop making arrangements for the wedding."

He gaped at her in disbelief, "This evening? You told him this evening?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"What do you mean?"

"Tell me why."

"I did not know when else to approach him and I thought the sooner I tell him the."

"Not that," John interrupted as the flames leapt in the fireplace, "Tell me why you stopped planning the wedding."

"John," she began as in an instant she was beside him on the chaise, "John, you must know why."

"Say it," he whispered as he softly cupped her chin so as he could look at her, "I need to hear you say exactly why."

The violet colored gloves silently fell to the floor as her dark eyes met his cerulean gaze, "Because I had lost so much of who I am. I forgot who I was since the day of my birth. I finally realized that no matter what I did, dressed or acted it was never going to be sufficient for him. It was never going to be good enough for any of them. I realized…"

Her voice broke on a sob yet she forced herself to swallow her tears, "I, I overlooked your sacrifice. I buried the images of you in pain on that stretcher because I thought it was the right thing to do on behalf of my people. In the years you were gone, they became my focus. Keeping the peace at any cost became my… It became my solace. And when you offered me the chance to go with you on your ship, it felt as if you were leaving again. Only this time, it was by choice and I pushed away the fact… I denied the fact that even after all this time I still love you. I told John Rolfe this evening for the same reason I took your hand so that you could help me out of the canoe all those years ago."

A wan smile graced her face as she tentatively reached for his hand, "I truly listened to my heart. I had been ignoring it for so long yet it was always there…"

The fire in the hearth hissed and flames jumped whilst his heart sped up at her simple touch.

John Smith tentatively stroked the side of her face before asking, "What have you been ignoring?"

"Everything."

"You need to be more specific."

"I am sorry," Pocahontas heaved a breath before continuing, "I am sorry. I ask for your forgiveness for all I have done. I am sorry if I could take it back I would. I was wrong… I was wrong John Smith. Is that what you want to hear? I made a mistake I."

The gentle touch of his fingertips on her lips silenced the words she may have spoken. John Smith watched as she pulled away, only to retrieve the silk gloves from the floor. As she held them in her lap, his keen gaze noted how there was no longer an engagement ring on the fourth finger of her left hand. Her dark brown orbs were downcast, staring at the embroidered fabric prior to meeting his eyes.

"There is blame to share," John Smith started as the words unexpectedly poured forth, "I should have tried harder to contact you. I should have pressed you on the matter of exploring the world with me. Most of all, most of all I, I should have told you on the balcony that… I never stopped loving you. I merely wanted your happiness and if that were to be with."

It was her turn to silence him as she cupped his face in her hands, "None of it matters anymore."

"It does if you do not know what you want."

Her voice was soft when she inquired, "Do you know?"

As if afraid to talk over the roaring fire in the hearth he murmured, "Are you certain?"

Both of them stared at one another for a long time. The captain taking in the tears that clung to her lashes along with the powder on her right cheek had been wiped away.

"I do not care about the frills and finery of the English society. I love my people and I love you. Is that not enough?"

Surprised, she can do nothing as they stand beside the hearth, his mouth claiming hers in a searing kiss. It was more than the heat of the fireplace that made Pocahontas feel warm as John held her in a strong embrace. Over and over they kissed, he clinging to her lithe figure fearful to let her go. As if in celebration the fire in the hearth leapt whilst the couple pulled apart in order to breathe. Laughing for the simple joy that flowed through them, they stumbled towards the door, Pocahontas glancing back at the ornate mantle. As if they were dancing in the ballroom, the native princess turned and threw the gloves towards the blaze. The couple watched in silence as the fabric was caught by the flames, smoldered, Charred and was reduced to ash within moments.

It is only when their hands clasp together she knows he has forgiven her. When his lips tenderly move across her forehead and cheek she realizes he has feared this moment would never have come. As he deepens the kiss, she is positive of the truth in his words of love.

And when he takes her to his bed and they are entwined in the dance as old as time, Pocahontas is certain that he has longed for her with just as much fervor as she has.

And with her forgiveness, acceptance and love he knew it would be enough for the rest of his days.

-…End of, "All I Want for Christmas is you."-….-….