[I don't really care much for the John/Pocahontas pairing. I prefer Pocahontas/Kocoum or if she were to be with anyone besides him, I would pick John Rolfe because it's at least realistic, but for the sake of this story, I decided to try and delve into the mind of John Smith. So I hope you guys enjoy this. This is from Chief Powhatans point of view.]
Heart Like A Native
When I first met John Smith, I didn't know what to think of him. I didn't like that my daughter had fallen for him, but I tried to trust in the Great Spirit that there was a reason for this. I never cared for John Smith, I didn't want my daughter, my Matoaka with him. I wanted her to be with Kocoum, a true native, a warrior. I wanted her to be with someone who could show her what it's truly like to be a native, to be brave, courageous, and most importantly, responsible.
But as time went on I realized that my daughter didn't want him. I realized that her heart longed for this man, this John Smith. He was so unlike everyone else. His skin, a sick pale color, as if he had never seen the sun before. And his hair was so light, as if it had been painted a bright yellow. His eyes, were the color of the deep blue oceans. He was nothing like the copper skinned, dark haired, dark eyed men from our tribe. When his men came along with him, I quickly classified him as the heartless pale beast that he associated himself with. I wondered desperately why my daughter would love this man, and not dear Kocoum, the strong, brave, warrior who could offer her safety, and comfort for the rest of her life.
Then again my daughter never was one for safety or comfort...She liked to live on the wild side, to try new things, and meet new people. She was so much like her mother.
When Kocoum died I was worried, even if my dear daughter didn't want him, I figured she would grow to love him as time went on, but as the months passed by...the pain was slowly eased, and this man, this John Smith, had started to grow on me.
You see...because even though he wasn't a native, he had the heart of one, and the mentality as well. He was brave, showed no fear. He had a strong heart, and that's why I'm standing here on the fateful day of my daughters wedding, giving this man, John Smith, my blessing.
After I give him my blessing, the ceremony starts. When they are done saying their vows, the party really begins. We have decided to mix our traditional Apache wedding ceremony's with the modern English way of doing things. We all grab a glass of wine, and everyone speaks on behalf of John and Pocahontas, saying mostly good things.
When it's my turn, I stand in the middle of my daughter and her love, and I take in a breath before speaking, "John Smith...I never did think I would like you. I thought you were a silly English boy, but you proved me wrong. And you showed me, that sometimes being native american isn't blood. It is what is in the heart. The love for the land, the respect for it, those who inhabit it, and the respect and acknowledgement of spirits and elders. That is what it is to be an Indian and you have showed me that you have all of these qualities."