CHAPTER THREE


Hey guys, I am so sorry. I was all ready to upload and then life pulled one on me. So, as of late I've been a bit of a train wreck. I'm sorry, again, I would have uploaded sooner but I just wasn't in the place to. BUT! After a copious amount of time moping around I've begun to feel a bit better so, I'm here to give you a shiny new chapter!

The master plan for this one is as follows. I wrote this chapter for the most part scene to scene with the movie. I just felt like it would be more fluid that way, and would stay a little bit closer to cannon. And writing this jumping to a storm and then to the shores of the New World seemed to work well for me. I know it's terribly over done in movie based fics, so I wanna promise to not rewrite the movie script, it'll just be this chapter, I promise.

But this is another shorter-ish chapter, we're still sort of setting up everything right now, think of it kinda like the appetizer til we get to the actual meat and potatoes of the story.

I do also want to take a moment to thank all of you for your support. Every comment, favorite, and follow means so much to me. Thank you. You guys rock!

Anyway, as always, enjoy!


Later. Later was a luxury that Helena was seldom afforded in the weeks to come. Everyday was a redundant circle of toil and manual labor that Helena had never once dreamed she would endure.

Scrubbing, sewing and other unsavory tasks were thrown her way during the day. Some tasks were more difficult than others, but arguably the worst was anything involving cleaning. The crew of the Susan Constant was not exactly the definition of cleanly, and more often than not their stench was a bit unbearable. Even for her, personal hygiene was infuriatingly difficult. It was easier to get caught in a passing rain storm then it was finding a bucket of water and soap. It made Helena long her favorite bottle of lavender perfume and her porcelain tub.

Nights however were infinitely more enjoyable. In the evenings John taught her the wonders of the world and the ways of the adventurer. She learned the jargon of sailors, various knots, and what little John knew of the savages that called the New World home.

Once she has seen every chore to completion Helena would descend the stairs that lead to a small dark corridor. Every inch of the ship smelled of salt and waves but below decks a rather potent must smell had manged to seep into the oak. At the end of the hall was a small shallow door way that lead to John's overly cluttered room. Small maritime gadgets, maps, and scrawled notes littered a ceder desk on the left hand side of the room. While books and more parchment were scattered in untidy heaps on the floor. At first the the clutter had been a bit of nuisance, but the piles had found a way to her heart and offered a sense of comfort. After months of sea everything seemed to remind Helena of home. The scholarly clutter in this case of her grandfather's library, a place she had adored as a child.

Approaching the door Helen knocked twice. Then after several moments of silence from behind the door she knocked again. This time three hollow sounding knocks.

"Yes, alright, come in." came a muffled voice that was undoubtedly John's.

Helena pushed open the door with a small shove and manged a soft "Hello." as she peered in the door, then moments later drifting inside with haste when John beckoned her towards his desk.

"Ah,' he paused turning his head to acknowledge her.

"Your are ready I trust?"

"Of course." she nodded, stepping cautiously over parchment and a smattering of thick black ink on the floor.

"Well," John stood slowly, he seemed tired and older somehow. Perhaps her father had been giving him trouble.

"Tonight's lesson," he smiled thinly, "is on deck."

Helen furrowed her brows, intrigued.

"Whatever for?" She queered, stepping back and towards the door.

"Be patient." John shook his head and slipped his hand into his pocket and then out again, reassuring that whatever had ought to be there remained.

Helena huffed, "I am no child."

John shot her a bemused and slightly condescending look, to which Helena gave an exasperated sigh and contented herself to follow John up to the deck.

They trudged back through the dark hall and out into the fresh night air. Helena followed obediently but grumbled something on the way up about being treated like a lap dog. If John heard her quip he ignored it and continued to the bow of the ship. Then rather abruptly stopped and reached into his pocket.

"Here," John murmured his arm outstretched. In his hand was a small device, circular and slightly larger than apple. It was bronze in color and had small marks here and there, almost resembling hooks that, as John went on to explain, measured parts of the sky.

Helena, now holding the gadget turned it over in her hands, studying every inscription, and ran her thumb over the subtle grooves.

"Hold it to the sky." John instructed, "There. Just to the horizon. When the stars are in clear view you move the center dial til it touches the north star. With the measurement it provides one can then discern their place in the sea."

Helena held it up, gazing intently, trying to imagine the stars present and shining, as this evening clouds littered the sky.

She gazed out into the distance for a while fiddling with the center dial and spinning an outer bit she was not so sure should even be spinning when out of the corner of her eye lightning flashed. A rumble of thunder followed later, it sounded far off and impending.

"Storms-a-brewing laddie." Murmured Harris who had been seated on barrel not far off. He was an elderly man with a beard resembling a stocking and a clouded left eye that age had claimed the sight from. He'd been at sea longer then most and on this ship his word was gospel, to the crew at least.

Helen was not too miffed by his remark but he did make her pull her gaze from the astrolabe and to the dark clouds that had gathered to the east. The dark mass of cumulonimbus clouds pulled a ghostly flicker of concern over her features and she promptly handed the trinket back to John.


"John! Get down here! The cannons are breaking loose!" Thomas yelled over the howl of the wind, desperately trying to secure a cannon that had begun to pull from it's bindings with each turbulent rock of the ship.

"Steady on the course. It is all right, Thomas. We will get her tied off." John called back. He had finally managed to secure the main sail, which moments ago had been ravaged by the howling wind.

John grabbed a rope and swung down to the deck from his former position near the mast.

He made haste to another one of the cannons that had begun to slip and knelt down to secure it.

Suddenly a chorus of shouts erupted about the ship and John looked up,"Thomas, watch out!" He cried, but it was too late. He watched helplessly as Thomas was swept overboard by cannon that had broken free.

"Man overboard!" Came a cry from above.

"Help!" Thomas cried, his voice already sounded far off.

"Stay your course. He is lost." Ben yelled with a hint of sorrow.


Helena had been given orders to make way her below decks with the other serving boys. The weather, coupled with their inexperience at sea, had made them a hazard for the other crew members. But they too had heard the shouts of the men on deck and watched as Thomas was swept over board.

Helen and Thomas had spoken little since the ship had left port but none the less she looked on with shock and alarm. Death was so close. And Thomas was dancing with it. This felt wrong; to stand there to go below decks while he was sucked beneath the waves.

"John!" Helena shouted and began walking unsteadily towards him. The deck was more slick then she had anticipated.

"What are you doing? You should be below deck." He yelled, looking more peeved by the second.

"I was, and then ... " she trailed off, "It matters not, we must save Thomas!"

Thomas's cries for help had grown fainter now and John looked torn. On the one hand desperate for action, on the other, he was being alarmingly realistic.

Moments passed and he glanced up and the shouted suddenly, "Pull the pin!"

"Aye, sir!" Yelled Helena scrambling upward.

While she awkwardly made her way to the pin, John fastened a rope to his waist, securing it with a tight knot.

Then there was a loud clank.

The pin. John thought.

Now free from the upper rigging of the ship John rushed forward, jumped and plunged into the swirling water below.

"Smith! Smith! Are you crazy?" Ben shouted over the deck, his words lost.

John however was submerged in sea and froth from the waves, and was now plugging away toward Thomas. He needed to reach him before he was carried to far from the ship.

A wave rolled toward him, salt water filled his nose and he gasped for air, instantly regretting the reflex. He spit the water from his mouth surfacing for a moment for air before plunging beneath an oncoming wave to find Thomas. His eyes stung from the salt and clouded for a moment before he could see somewhat clearly. After a moment of swimming around in vain he spotted a brown mass with feathery red hair in the distance and swam.

Seconds seemed like hours as John swam. His muscles shouted in vengeance but John finally got hold of Thomas and wrapped one arm around his torso.

"Hang on, Thomas. I have you." He gasped.


Back on the deck, Ben, Lon and a few other crew members, stood, rope in hand, their eyes cast out into the tumultuous waves. Concern was cast over their features and the rope in their hands had gone taut with strain.

Then it began to slip.

"Quick, the rope!" Shouted Lon. The men grappled to gain the lost rope. They pulled, trying to combat the tumbling waves.

Behind them another dashed to grab the end of the rope, it was pulled taut again, the weight of John and Thomas quickly becoming too much of a burden.

"Heave! Come on, lads, pull! Pull! Pull! Put your back into it!" Ben yelled, grasping the rope tighter between his calloused hands.

"Hang on!" Shouted Lon.

With one final heave from the men on deck Thomas and John toppled over the the side of the ship followed by an exhausted and content cheer.

"There, me lucky lad." Ben breathed a sigh of relief.

"Well, that was refreshing." John smiled, clapping Thomas on the back.

Thomas looked as if John had about knocked the wind from him, as he stilled for a moment only to expel even more of the sea water he had just swallowed.

John winched feeling somewhat guilty considering Thomas had waltzed with death mere minutes before and he stepped away to give Thomas some room to breathe.

"Well done, Smith." Congratulated Lon.

John nodded in acknowledgement. "Of course. You would all do the same for me." He smirked.

Ben's brows shot up."Oh, sure, sure, of course we would."

"Yes yes, yes. We would." Lon chimed in.

"Absolutely." Ben affirmed unnecessarily.

Thunder rattled the deck and with it brought pounding of boots on slick wooden stairs. Governor Ratcliffe. He appeared a menacing figure, clad in black leather with the flame of a single candle illuminating his pointed features.

Helena, who had not moved since pulling the pin ducked behind some crates and away from the governor's prying eyes.

"Trouble on deck?" Asked Ratcliffe.

"Governor Ratcliffe!" Thomas exclaimed.

"Thomas fell overboard, sir." John said, sounding much like a concerned parent rather then a captain.

"Thank heavens he has been successfully retrieved. Well done, Smith." The governor said but he sounded anything but concerned. Perhaps annoyed almost.

"Thank you, sir." John nodded.

"Do not lose heart, men. It will not be long before we reach the New World, and remember what awaits us there: freedom...prosperity...and the adventure of our lives. You are the finest crew England has to offer and nothing, not wind nor rain nor a thousand bloodthirsty savages shall stand in our way. Carry on men!" Shouted Ratcliffe triumphantly.

Cheers arouse from the crowd but something in Helena sank. Her father had influence, and that in itself was cause for alarm.

Power and Ratcliffe were as deadly as any viper.


Helena had established a small perch on the stern of the ship. She looked frail in her cap and over sized boy's clothe. The lack of light made her blue eyes dark as she gazed out at the vast ocean which now held an uncanny stillness. It was unsettling and beautiful, with the now visible moonlight caught in the waves.

Foot steps from behind her pulled her from her thoughts and she sat up, alert.

"How is Thomas?" Helena asked, not turning to peak behind her.

"He is shaken up but I feel he shall be well in the morning." Came a voice, John's of course. No one besides him bothered much with a scrawny and rather odd serving boy.

"That is good news."

"Aye." John nodded.

"What did you think of the governor's speech?" He asked, his features not betraying any emotion beyond slight curiosity.

"It was deeply stirring." Helen murmured, turning to John and rolling her eyes in a way that very much broadcast her disdain.

John chuckled. "We shall, with luck, find land in the next few days." He drifted forward and rested his elbows on the wooden rail with a sigh.

"You are nervous?" Helena asked.

This time John inhaled quite audibly.

"Yes," He paused, "And no. I, I am not sure what to expect from our arrival. This new land is a mystery in its entirety, that I find to be somewhat unsettling."

Helena listened thoughtfully. She had cast her eyes seaward again but she turned now to face John.

"You are a most courageous man. I have not doubt that regardless of your comprehension of this world, you will grow in understanding. It's mystery matters not, for you will learn its ways." She smiled reassuringly.

John smiled and preened slightly, his ego thoroughly stoked. He shook his head. "Am I not the most courageous man you have ever had the pleasure of meeting?" He queered.

Helena sucked in her lip, "Ah, sir, courageous, yet not the most."


"LAND!"

"SIR TO THE WEST, LAND HO!"

A cry rose up from the crowd, gleefully crew members rushed about changing course, others, various serving boys along with Helena rushed to the side of the ship.

It was but a dark green line in the distance, but nevertheless it was land. And oh how Helena had missed it.

Three months at sea had been a most welcome adventure but she has quickly grown quite tired of the repetitive tasks, the constant rocking, and the stench of her companions. She would be glad to be rid of it, if only for a time.

It took almost three hours to reach inner waters of the New World. The ship was painstakingly steered as to avoid sandbars and anything else hidden beneath the surface. As they approached tall pines came into view, then smaller trees, perhaps maple and oak. Seagulls called to one another above the ship and Helena could not help but smile. This was it. This is what she had waited almost three months for.

But not quite yet time. It was another hour before a small boat was prepared to go ashore with adequate supplies and the Governor's solemn and rather uninterested blessing.

"Captain Smith, pick your men. You shall scout a location in which we shall camp, the rest of us," Radcliffe turned to the remaining crew,"We shall unload the ship."

"Jack, Thomas, Lon, your with me."

"Aye, what about me sir?" A discontented Ben piped up.

John shook his head. "Yes, alright, come along Ben."


Disclaimer: I do not own any aspect of the movie Pocahontas, or any affiliated film. This fan fiction is loosely based off of historical and fictional events and was created purely for entertainment purposes.