Joxer of the Jungle
By Susan Owens and Lori Bush
In Response to the SUJE Costume Challenge
Part One of Seven
Disclaimer: We do not own the Xena characters or any of the historical
persons. Certain characters, however, are all ours. The story is an
uber,
with a mix of Xena characters recast, fictional characters, and actual
historical characters. Don't sue us, 'kay?
Rated: PG
Warning: Death and violence
Notes (by Lori): This is in answer to Costume Challenge number three -
to
wit:
Challenge #3 -- Baby Joxer is separated from his family and raised by
wild
animals a la Tarzan. Write a story where this AU Joxer meets up with
Xena
and Gabrielle. REQUIREMENTS: animal skin loincloth, a "special
skill" for
Joxer, swinging on vines, and talking to animals.
I have worked with Susan in the past, but mostly as an editor. This
is the
first thing we have actually co-written. Actually, this is the first
thing I
have *ever* co-written outside of RoundRobins, and we had a ball with
it. We
took turns writing sections, passing them back and forth with only the
briefest of discussion about details, and I think it came together
nicely.
This was originally released as a Work In Progress on the SUJE list.
It is
now completed, and I had promised to share it with my other lists, so
here
it is. I had done considerable editing on the various parts while we
were
writing the others, but somehow, when I redid my harddrive, the files
I had
backed up didn't include this one. So I'm cutting and pasting from the
original issue, and since it was unbeta'd, this is even more so.
Sorry.
~**~
The barge drifted down the overgrown river in Borneo. It was 1877,
and a
young woman was sitting on a bench rocking her young child. Her name
was
Lady Janine, and she was on her way to meet her husband Lord Malcolm,
and
her other two sons. They had gone on ahead with the help. Her
youngest son
had been sick and not able to travel, but now he was better. She
cooed at
him in his basket, and he smiled up at her.
The entire trip had been difficult, and plagued by one mishap after
another.
But, suddenly something seemed even more wrong. The men were shouting
at
each other. Lady Janine's baby was grabbed by one of the men, who
shouted,
"This child is the cause of our bad luck. Let's throw it to the
alligators."
Most of the crew were local natives, a superstitious and pagan lot,
and
although the woman was afraid of them, her husband had assured her by
letter
that she would be perfectly safe.
"NO!" Lady Janine screamed as she grabbed for her child. The man took
his
knife and stabbed Lady Janine in the chest. The last thing she saw
before
she died was her child being tossed into the river. The men watched
as the
basket drifted down the river. One sympathetic man placed his hand on
his
heart. "May the Gods be with you, child," he whispered.
The basket carrying the baby drifted down the river. A figure from
the trees
saw it, and wondered at the strange item. The watcher was a female
orangutan. She ran down towards the banks of the river and took a
stick and
pulled the basket in. Looking into the basket, she saw the child,
crying.
The orangutan picked up the boy and held him. She had just lost her
own baby
to the cruelty of the jungle, and she still had her milk, which the
hungry
child found and began to drink. The orangutan held the child close
and began
to climb the tree to the place where she lived.
~**~
"Mamma," Joxer whined to Sheera, "Jett won't let me have *any* of the
termites he found. He said Jace could, but I couldn't." The female
orangutan
that had rescued the baby from the river those eight years ago looked
up
from the new child she was feeding and smacked her lips in annoyance.
"Joxer, how many times do I have to tell you not to let your cousin
intimidate you? I know all three of you boys went searching for that
nest
together, and you have every bit as much of a right to your share as
Jace
and Jett have to theirs." She looked indulgently at her eldest child -
her
sister's children treated him badly and called him "pale and hairless
one"
behind her back, she knew. She had asked her sisters to talk to the
boys,
but children were difficult. He was more slender than the other
children,
with hair only on his head, that hung to his shoulders in a shade of
dark
brown that contrasted with the red fur of the rest of the family. She
had
helped him fashion a breechcloth from the skin of a dead elk that
they had
found, and he wore it tied at his waist, because the other males
found that
particular portion of his anatomy even funnier than the rest of his
smooth
body.
Only his eyes offered any threat to the other creatures of the
forest. He
had a look that would sometimes cross his face when he sensed danger
that
terrified those who saw it - she had seen him use it purposely only
once,
when a panther refused to listen to reason, although he had spoken
wisely to
it as it circled an injured baby hippo. Sheera had screamed her
warning to
her son, and the killer had laughed the small hairless ape off, until
she
looked directly in his eyes. That panther disappeared in terror,
never to be
seen in their part of the forest again.
Besides, Sheera was also aware that her sister's boys would not allow
any of
the other adolescents to tease or abuse Joxer in front of them. They
truly
cared about him, but he was such an easy target for their childish
pranks
and the power plays that young males practiced in preparation for
mating
someday. She sighed at that thought - most of the young males left
after
fifteen cold seasons and found a female to mate with, but her child
was not
yet drawing the eye of any of the females around, and that seemed
unlikely
to change. Even his cousins, after only eight cold seasons, had
admiring
females. They were handsome boys. Joxer was indeed too different for
most
tastes, although she found him perfectly beautiful.
"Hey, Keenan," he cooed at his baby brother, making faces. The little
one,
who adored his older sibling and had no idea that he was anything
different,
giggled. Having finished his meal, he held his arms out, and Joxer
plucked
him up, tossing him high a few times to the baby's vocal enjoyment.
Sheera
had to admit - her mate had no more use for the little one than he
did their
adopted child. His only comment after the birth had been, "At least
this one
*looks* normal." Then he had lumbered off to hunt, and was gone for
several
days. He had never fully accepted Joxer as his son, although she was
beginning to think it had less to do with the boy than her mate.
She reclaimed her youngest from his brother. "If you don't mind, son,
I'd
like his meal to remain within him where it will do the most good.
Now, go
find those cousins of yours, and reclaim what you are due." Keenan
chittered
in happy baby talk as Joxer loped off to see if there were any of the
delicious termites remaining. If so, he was going to bring some home
to his
mother.
~**~
"Joxer!" Sheera called into the leafy dampness. Her eldest son swung
from
branch to branch, moving smoothly until he landed on the wide natural
platform where she waited.
"Yes, Momma," he answered, looking at her gently. As he had aged,
those
soft, gentle eyes of his had grown more threatening in anger, and
many of
the animals knew and feared his gaze. Now that he was fully-grown, he
stood
head and shoulders above the other males when fully upright, although
his
body still looked frail in comparison. His shoulders were wider, his
arms
shorter, his legs longer than the other young males. One by one, his
cousins
of similar age had found females and left the family group. Jett, for
one,
had a large family group of his own now. Only Joxer and Jace
remained -
neither had found a mate among the neighboring females. She had to
admit
that Joxer's mating cry didn't sound quite like the rest of the
males. Jace
had never even tried.
Her boy had admitted that, in spite of the fact that he found *her*
beautiful, as only a child could see his mother, the females he had
met
didn't appeal to him. Still, he was looking, he assured Sheera. As it
was,
she found it comforting to have him there to help her. Keenan, after
twelve
cold seasons, was becoming rowdy and difficult. But he worshipped and
usually obeyed his older sibling, so often, she relied on Joxer to
tend to
him while she cared for the young female that had been born almost
four
seasons ago.
She reached out for her boy, who crouched in the normal waiting
position.
Absently grooming his dark chestnut hair in affection, she almost
hesitated
to ask for what she needed. "Joxer, dear, would you take Keenan with
you
today? I have a lot to do, and he isn't usually a lot of help with
Raylan.
In fact, he usually ends up making her cry."
As if called, the little female skittered into the nest, squealing at
the
sight of her oldest brother. "Joxer, Joxer," she cried, bouncing to
his
shoulders, then into his lap, chattering the whole time, "Momma's
gonna show
me where to find *figs*! I *love* figs! Can you come too, can you,
can you?"
Finishing up while swinging from his forearm as if it were a branch,
she
turned shining, pleading eyes on him.
He gathered her into a hug. "I'm sorry, Raylan, but Keenan and I
have," he
hesitated, looking darkly at his mother, "plans. Maybe next time."
Her disappointment was there and then gone like the butterfly,
flitting away
in the face of a new excitement. "Okay. Momma, can I go tell Teera? I
see
her over there." Without waiting for the answer, the little one was
gone,
swinging eagerly through the trees and calling her cousin's name.
"You say you want me to mate, but no female is going to look at me
with a
*child* tagging after me," Joxer complained without spirit to his
mother.
"I heard that," his brother's youthful voice interrupted. "I am *not*
a
child! Raylan is a child." The nearly full-grown male landed in the
nest,
pouting. His expression mirrored perfectly that of the tiny female
that had
just left.
"Okay," Joxer answered, amused, "You're with me today, Mr. 'Not A
Child'.
Let's go - I'm supposed to meet Chula in a little while." His brother
pulled
away as the elder messed his fur, but followed eagerly and willingly,
swinging behind him on his way.
~**~
As Joxer and Keenan came to the clearing, Joxer told his brother not
to make
a sound. He had to see if the coast was clear. Keenan snorted - he
was not
afraid of anything, and yet Joxer sometimes still treated him like a
baby.
"I'm not a baby."
"Quiet "Joxer ordered. He slowly looked around and tested the air for
any
strange or unfamiliar smells. It seemed safe, and he was about to
call for
Keenan, when suddenly something jumped on him and knocked him down.
"Guess who"? teased the growling voice.
"Chula, will you please get off of me?"
The young female jaguar moved off and sat down. "You know, Joxer, you
really
are no fun sometimes."
"Yeah, well you're getting bigger, and a lot stronger."
"Don't worry Jox. You know you're safe. You and me are friends." She
looked
at his brother. "But I am kind of hungry."
Keenan was frightened but he stood tall before Chula. Joxer stepped
between
them. His eyes were narrow, and he was glaring at her. Chula backed
away.
"Hey! I was just kidding." She decided to change the subject. "Hey,
Jox, I
saw some strange animals today. They look something like you."
"You mean they're orangutans?"
"You know, Jox, I'm not the smartest jaguar in the jungle, but I do
know
that you're different from the other orangutans. You have very little
fur,
you're taller then the rest of the males, you have no cheek pouches,
and
your mating call is terrible."
"Hey, it's not that bad," Joxer defended.
"You haven't mated yet, have you? That should tell you something."
She could
tell he was getting annoyed with her again. "Come on - I'll show you.
Tell
the squirt to stay behind."
Keenan did not want to be left behind. "Joxer, I'm coming, or I'll
tell mom
that your best friend is a jaguar."
Chula looked at Joxer. "Your mom doesn't know?"
Joxer shook his head. "She wouldn't understand."
Chula laughed, "Yeah, mine wouldn't either. If I still had one."
********************************************
Her name was Gabrielle Taylor, and she had just turned eighteen years
old.
By this age, she should be married or at least betrothed, but
Gabrielle was
a spitfire, and no man could tame her. She wanted to be an artist, not
someone's wife. Her best friend and bodyguard was a woman in her early
twenties named Xena. Xena had been chosen to be Gabrielle's
bodyguard by
her father, Sir Reginald Taylor, because Gabrielle had refused to
consider a
male bodyguard.
She was now in the camp in Borneo with her canvas, getting ready to
paint.
Chula, Joxer, and Keenan watched her through the bushes. Joxer just
stared.
She was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. Keenan noticed
his
look. "What's the matter with you?"
Joxer looked at him. "Are you kidding? She's beautiful."
Keenan just shook his head. "I think she's ugly." He looked his
brother
over. "Almost as ugly as you are."
Joxer turned on him. "Well, I don't, and I am going to give her my
mating
call."
Chula and Keenan both backed away. Chula looked around
nervously. "You know,
I really gotta go hunting. See ya later."
Keenan climbed up a tree. "I think it's safer up here."
Joxer ignored them and stood tall, letting out his mating call.
~**~
Xena watched her friend and charge setting up to paint. "I dunno why
you 'ad
ta come ta the bleedin' *rain forest* ta paint," she complained. Since
Gabrielle traveled in high society circles in London, Xena was
careful there
to modulate her Cockney accent and speak in cultured tones. Out here,
in the
middle of nowhere with only her best friend, she could relax and not
be
concerned about her elocution. "Criminey, it *rains* all th' damned
time!"
Gabrielle could help but release an unladylike snort. "That's why
they call
it the *rain forest*, Xena. And we came during the dry season - I
could have
really made you suffer, and come during monsoon season." She belted
on the
smock that would protect her fine clothing - her proper Victorian
father had
chafed at allowing her to come all the way to this island with only a
guide
and her erstwhile bodyguard, but given in. She could not, however,
convince
him to allow her to wear the more practical men's trousers. She
supposed she
was lucky to be here at all. "Besides," she continued mildly, "the
rain is
the reason they have such beautiful flora and fauna here."
"Ya mean th' plants?" Xena saw her friend roll her eyes and nod. The
bodyguard settled into one of the fancy chairs that the native guides
had
set up before they left. As was the upper-class fashion, they brought
with
them everything they possibly could in order to simulate their home
life in
London. Their tent had a heavy wooden floor, and real mattresses on
the
beds. They even had small chifferobes for their clothing. The food,
however,
was not going to last long, and their guide had gone into the woods
to hunt
and forage for the women.
Growing up orphaned and poor on London's South Side had taught Xena a
lot,
and one of the things that had helped her survive had been her
instincts.
Her instincts now told her not to trust their guide, Drake O'Malley,
farther
than she could throw him. He was a native of Borneo, but had been
taken off
the island at a very young age and educated in England by a missionary
group, one of whose members had adopted him. His dark skin and hair
were the
only resemblance he bore to the other native guides he had procured
to move
their belongings, and even when he spoke their language you could
hear the
British accent in his words. His clothing was impeccable, and his
manners
sublime. But his eyes were wild and frightening, and Xena couldn't
help but
feel that she and Gabrielle were merely convenient tools that would
help him
get whatever he was really here for. She didn't care for the way he
looked
at Gabrielle, either.
Gabrielle had been the only good thing in Xena's life, ever. They had
become
friends when just in their early teens, when the younger girl had been
caught out on the streets in a terrible rainstorm without her
umbrella, and
taken shelter in a doorway Xena had already occupied. The little
blonde was
friendly and outgoing, politely ignoring the other girl's shabby
condition.
When the storm ended, she had taken her new friend back to her
palatial town
home in the finest area of the city, and *demanded* her father allow
Xena to
stay. Sir Reginald had never really known how to refuse his headstrong
child, and after many legal inquiries, it was decided that Xena had
no blood
relatives to object, and would stay at the Taylor household.
The girl from the streets was educated and outfitted alongside the
daughter
of one of London's leading families, but she never entirely lost the
wild
child she had been. So when Gabrielle began to wheedle for the trip to
Borneo to paint the scenery, her father arranged for Xena to have
formal
training in the arts of personal protection. His first suggestion of a
professional bodyguard had been met with near violent opposition, and
so,
the friend and foundling became the guardian. She would have already
given
her life for the blonde, but now she had the skills to really *do*
something, should she ever be threatened.
She was about to make an idle comment about the heat and humidity,
just to
stir up the young painter, when a cry, something not quite human,
ripped
through the camp. Gabrielle dropped her brush as Xena leapt to her
feet. The
blonde woman's heart had almost slowed down when she saw the big cat
creep
from the brush toward her. She screamed herself.
~**~
Joxer saw both the females react to his cry. He was satisfied that he
now
had their attention. His best friend slunk up behind him, resting her
jaw on
his shoulder as he crouched, waiting. "Looks like it worked, Jox, but
on the
wrong one," Chula growled quietly in his ear.
Sure enough, the dark one was moving smoothly in his direction, a
shiny
object in her hand. "I'll go talk to the other one, while you make
your
apologies to this one," Chula chuckled. "Otherwise, you could end up
with
the wrong mate. I gotta say, I never thought that cry of yours could
attract
a single female, let alone *two*." She slunk through the trees toward
the
smaller of the two strange creatures.
Xena held her knife at the ready, and cursed Drake for taking the
gun. They
only had one, and she knew that he needed it for hunting, but still...
Quietly, she crept in the direction of the cry, hoping that whatever
had
made that ungodly sound was in danger itself, and not a danger to her
or her
friend. A rustling of leaves let her know that whatever it had been
was
still there. She was nearly to the spot when Gabrielle screamed.
Joxer was startled - most females didn't cry out in return. Then he
saw the
dark one spin, and he could smell their fear. Suddenly, it
registered -
Chula! Most animals feared the jaguar, and rightly so. She was a
fierce
hunter, swift and deadly. He had seen her in action himself, and was
grateful that she was his friend. These two creatures couldn't know
that she
was not there to harm them. Without further thought, Joxer sprang
from the
branch, grabbing a vine and swinging over the head of the dark one to
land
between his chosen and Chula. Growling in his friend's tongue, he
warned
her, "They're afraid. Go back!"
Confused, Chula replied, "But I don't plan to hurt them."
"They don't know that. Go on - I'll handle it." She hesitated, and he
snarled in impatience. Giving up, the jaguar turned tail and left.
Crouching in a non-threatening stance, he turned to the beautiful
female and
comforted her in orangutan, "Don't worry, she's gone now. She wasn't
going
to hurt you." The female's face still looked troubled, and now she
looked
confused as well.
Xena was almost in shock when the pale golden figure shot through the
air
above her and landed in front of the jaguar. Then there was growling
and
snarling between them, and the big cat retreated. Turning, the man
hunched
down and began to screech at her best friend.
For it *was* a man - a tall, lean man, dressed in nothing but a
loincloth,
with long chestnut hair streaming down his back. Otherwise, his
golden body
seemed nearly hairless. The muscles of his arms and chest, as well as
his
upper back were sleek and firm, and his legs also appeared powerful.
Afraid
to lower the knife, but somehow comforted by his appearance, she
approached
slowly. Gabrielle saw her, and held up her hand. Never taking her
eyes off
the figure before her, she called, "Stop, Xena. He saved me. I don't
think
he means us any harm." Then she lowered her hand, and held it out to
him in
greeting - like one would offer one's palm to a strange dog to show
you're
not a threat.
By Susan Owens and Lori Bush
In Response to the SUJE Costume Challenge
Part One of Seven
Disclaimer: We do not own the Xena characters or any of the historical
persons. Certain characters, however, are all ours. The story is an
uber,
with a mix of Xena characters recast, fictional characters, and actual
historical characters. Don't sue us, 'kay?
Rated: PG
Warning: Death and violence
Notes (by Lori): This is in answer to Costume Challenge number three -
to
wit:
Challenge #3 -- Baby Joxer is separated from his family and raised by
wild
animals a la Tarzan. Write a story where this AU Joxer meets up with
Xena
and Gabrielle. REQUIREMENTS: animal skin loincloth, a "special
skill" for
Joxer, swinging on vines, and talking to animals.
I have worked with Susan in the past, but mostly as an editor. This
is the
first thing we have actually co-written. Actually, this is the first
thing I
have *ever* co-written outside of RoundRobins, and we had a ball with
it. We
took turns writing sections, passing them back and forth with only the
briefest of discussion about details, and I think it came together
nicely.
This was originally released as a Work In Progress on the SUJE list.
It is
now completed, and I had promised to share it with my other lists, so
here
it is. I had done considerable editing on the various parts while we
were
writing the others, but somehow, when I redid my harddrive, the files
I had
backed up didn't include this one. So I'm cutting and pasting from the
original issue, and since it was unbeta'd, this is even more so.
Sorry.
~**~
The barge drifted down the overgrown river in Borneo. It was 1877,
and a
young woman was sitting on a bench rocking her young child. Her name
was
Lady Janine, and she was on her way to meet her husband Lord Malcolm,
and
her other two sons. They had gone on ahead with the help. Her
youngest son
had been sick and not able to travel, but now he was better. She
cooed at
him in his basket, and he smiled up at her.
The entire trip had been difficult, and plagued by one mishap after
another.
But, suddenly something seemed even more wrong. The men were shouting
at
each other. Lady Janine's baby was grabbed by one of the men, who
shouted,
"This child is the cause of our bad luck. Let's throw it to the
alligators."
Most of the crew were local natives, a superstitious and pagan lot,
and
although the woman was afraid of them, her husband had assured her by
letter
that she would be perfectly safe.
"NO!" Lady Janine screamed as she grabbed for her child. The man took
his
knife and stabbed Lady Janine in the chest. The last thing she saw
before
she died was her child being tossed into the river. The men watched
as the
basket drifted down the river. One sympathetic man placed his hand on
his
heart. "May the Gods be with you, child," he whispered.
The basket carrying the baby drifted down the river. A figure from
the trees
saw it, and wondered at the strange item. The watcher was a female
orangutan. She ran down towards the banks of the river and took a
stick and
pulled the basket in. Looking into the basket, she saw the child,
crying.
The orangutan picked up the boy and held him. She had just lost her
own baby
to the cruelty of the jungle, and she still had her milk, which the
hungry
child found and began to drink. The orangutan held the child close
and began
to climb the tree to the place where she lived.
~**~
"Mamma," Joxer whined to Sheera, "Jett won't let me have *any* of the
termites he found. He said Jace could, but I couldn't." The female
orangutan
that had rescued the baby from the river those eight years ago looked
up
from the new child she was feeding and smacked her lips in annoyance.
"Joxer, how many times do I have to tell you not to let your cousin
intimidate you? I know all three of you boys went searching for that
nest
together, and you have every bit as much of a right to your share as
Jace
and Jett have to theirs." She looked indulgently at her eldest child -
her
sister's children treated him badly and called him "pale and hairless
one"
behind her back, she knew. She had asked her sisters to talk to the
boys,
but children were difficult. He was more slender than the other
children,
with hair only on his head, that hung to his shoulders in a shade of
dark
brown that contrasted with the red fur of the rest of the family. She
had
helped him fashion a breechcloth from the skin of a dead elk that
they had
found, and he wore it tied at his waist, because the other males
found that
particular portion of his anatomy even funnier than the rest of his
smooth
body.
Only his eyes offered any threat to the other creatures of the
forest. He
had a look that would sometimes cross his face when he sensed danger
that
terrified those who saw it - she had seen him use it purposely only
once,
when a panther refused to listen to reason, although he had spoken
wisely to
it as it circled an injured baby hippo. Sheera had screamed her
warning to
her son, and the killer had laughed the small hairless ape off, until
she
looked directly in his eyes. That panther disappeared in terror,
never to be
seen in their part of the forest again.
Besides, Sheera was also aware that her sister's boys would not allow
any of
the other adolescents to tease or abuse Joxer in front of them. They
truly
cared about him, but he was such an easy target for their childish
pranks
and the power plays that young males practiced in preparation for
mating
someday. She sighed at that thought - most of the young males left
after
fifteen cold seasons and found a female to mate with, but her child
was not
yet drawing the eye of any of the females around, and that seemed
unlikely
to change. Even his cousins, after only eight cold seasons, had
admiring
females. They were handsome boys. Joxer was indeed too different for
most
tastes, although she found him perfectly beautiful.
"Hey, Keenan," he cooed at his baby brother, making faces. The little
one,
who adored his older sibling and had no idea that he was anything
different,
giggled. Having finished his meal, he held his arms out, and Joxer
plucked
him up, tossing him high a few times to the baby's vocal enjoyment.
Sheera
had to admit - her mate had no more use for the little one than he
did their
adopted child. His only comment after the birth had been, "At least
this one
*looks* normal." Then he had lumbered off to hunt, and was gone for
several
days. He had never fully accepted Joxer as his son, although she was
beginning to think it had less to do with the boy than her mate.
She reclaimed her youngest from his brother. "If you don't mind, son,
I'd
like his meal to remain within him where it will do the most good.
Now, go
find those cousins of yours, and reclaim what you are due." Keenan
chittered
in happy baby talk as Joxer loped off to see if there were any of the
delicious termites remaining. If so, he was going to bring some home
to his
mother.
~**~
"Joxer!" Sheera called into the leafy dampness. Her eldest son swung
from
branch to branch, moving smoothly until he landed on the wide natural
platform where she waited.
"Yes, Momma," he answered, looking at her gently. As he had aged,
those
soft, gentle eyes of his had grown more threatening in anger, and
many of
the animals knew and feared his gaze. Now that he was fully-grown, he
stood
head and shoulders above the other males when fully upright, although
his
body still looked frail in comparison. His shoulders were wider, his
arms
shorter, his legs longer than the other young males. One by one, his
cousins
of similar age had found females and left the family group. Jett, for
one,
had a large family group of his own now. Only Joxer and Jace
remained -
neither had found a mate among the neighboring females. She had to
admit
that Joxer's mating cry didn't sound quite like the rest of the
males. Jace
had never even tried.
Her boy had admitted that, in spite of the fact that he found *her*
beautiful, as only a child could see his mother, the females he had
met
didn't appeal to him. Still, he was looking, he assured Sheera. As it
was,
she found it comforting to have him there to help her. Keenan, after
twelve
cold seasons, was becoming rowdy and difficult. But he worshipped and
usually obeyed his older sibling, so often, she relied on Joxer to
tend to
him while she cared for the young female that had been born almost
four
seasons ago.
She reached out for her boy, who crouched in the normal waiting
position.
Absently grooming his dark chestnut hair in affection, she almost
hesitated
to ask for what she needed. "Joxer, dear, would you take Keenan with
you
today? I have a lot to do, and he isn't usually a lot of help with
Raylan.
In fact, he usually ends up making her cry."
As if called, the little female skittered into the nest, squealing at
the
sight of her oldest brother. "Joxer, Joxer," she cried, bouncing to
his
shoulders, then into his lap, chattering the whole time, "Momma's
gonna show
me where to find *figs*! I *love* figs! Can you come too, can you,
can you?"
Finishing up while swinging from his forearm as if it were a branch,
she
turned shining, pleading eyes on him.
He gathered her into a hug. "I'm sorry, Raylan, but Keenan and I
have," he
hesitated, looking darkly at his mother, "plans. Maybe next time."
Her disappointment was there and then gone like the butterfly,
flitting away
in the face of a new excitement. "Okay. Momma, can I go tell Teera? I
see
her over there." Without waiting for the answer, the little one was
gone,
swinging eagerly through the trees and calling her cousin's name.
"You say you want me to mate, but no female is going to look at me
with a
*child* tagging after me," Joxer complained without spirit to his
mother.
"I heard that," his brother's youthful voice interrupted. "I am *not*
a
child! Raylan is a child." The nearly full-grown male landed in the
nest,
pouting. His expression mirrored perfectly that of the tiny female
that had
just left.
"Okay," Joxer answered, amused, "You're with me today, Mr. 'Not A
Child'.
Let's go - I'm supposed to meet Chula in a little while." His brother
pulled
away as the elder messed his fur, but followed eagerly and willingly,
swinging behind him on his way.
~**~
As Joxer and Keenan came to the clearing, Joxer told his brother not
to make
a sound. He had to see if the coast was clear. Keenan snorted - he
was not
afraid of anything, and yet Joxer sometimes still treated him like a
baby.
"I'm not a baby."
"Quiet "Joxer ordered. He slowly looked around and tested the air for
any
strange or unfamiliar smells. It seemed safe, and he was about to
call for
Keenan, when suddenly something jumped on him and knocked him down.
"Guess who"? teased the growling voice.
"Chula, will you please get off of me?"
The young female jaguar moved off and sat down. "You know, Joxer, you
really
are no fun sometimes."
"Yeah, well you're getting bigger, and a lot stronger."
"Don't worry Jox. You know you're safe. You and me are friends." She
looked
at his brother. "But I am kind of hungry."
Keenan was frightened but he stood tall before Chula. Joxer stepped
between
them. His eyes were narrow, and he was glaring at her. Chula backed
away.
"Hey! I was just kidding." She decided to change the subject. "Hey,
Jox, I
saw some strange animals today. They look something like you."
"You mean they're orangutans?"
"You know, Jox, I'm not the smartest jaguar in the jungle, but I do
know
that you're different from the other orangutans. You have very little
fur,
you're taller then the rest of the males, you have no cheek pouches,
and
your mating call is terrible."
"Hey, it's not that bad," Joxer defended.
"You haven't mated yet, have you? That should tell you something."
She could
tell he was getting annoyed with her again. "Come on - I'll show you.
Tell
the squirt to stay behind."
Keenan did not want to be left behind. "Joxer, I'm coming, or I'll
tell mom
that your best friend is a jaguar."
Chula looked at Joxer. "Your mom doesn't know?"
Joxer shook his head. "She wouldn't understand."
Chula laughed, "Yeah, mine wouldn't either. If I still had one."
********************************************
Her name was Gabrielle Taylor, and she had just turned eighteen years
old.
By this age, she should be married or at least betrothed, but
Gabrielle was
a spitfire, and no man could tame her. She wanted to be an artist, not
someone's wife. Her best friend and bodyguard was a woman in her early
twenties named Xena. Xena had been chosen to be Gabrielle's
bodyguard by
her father, Sir Reginald Taylor, because Gabrielle had refused to
consider a
male bodyguard.
She was now in the camp in Borneo with her canvas, getting ready to
paint.
Chula, Joxer, and Keenan watched her through the bushes. Joxer just
stared.
She was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. Keenan noticed
his
look. "What's the matter with you?"
Joxer looked at him. "Are you kidding? She's beautiful."
Keenan just shook his head. "I think she's ugly." He looked his
brother
over. "Almost as ugly as you are."
Joxer turned on him. "Well, I don't, and I am going to give her my
mating
call."
Chula and Keenan both backed away. Chula looked around
nervously. "You know,
I really gotta go hunting. See ya later."
Keenan climbed up a tree. "I think it's safer up here."
Joxer ignored them and stood tall, letting out his mating call.
~**~
Xena watched her friend and charge setting up to paint. "I dunno why
you 'ad
ta come ta the bleedin' *rain forest* ta paint," she complained. Since
Gabrielle traveled in high society circles in London, Xena was
careful there
to modulate her Cockney accent and speak in cultured tones. Out here,
in the
middle of nowhere with only her best friend, she could relax and not
be
concerned about her elocution. "Criminey, it *rains* all th' damned
time!"
Gabrielle could help but release an unladylike snort. "That's why
they call
it the *rain forest*, Xena. And we came during the dry season - I
could have
really made you suffer, and come during monsoon season." She belted
on the
smock that would protect her fine clothing - her proper Victorian
father had
chafed at allowing her to come all the way to this island with only a
guide
and her erstwhile bodyguard, but given in. She could not, however,
convince
him to allow her to wear the more practical men's trousers. She
supposed she
was lucky to be here at all. "Besides," she continued mildly, "the
rain is
the reason they have such beautiful flora and fauna here."
"Ya mean th' plants?" Xena saw her friend roll her eyes and nod. The
bodyguard settled into one of the fancy chairs that the native guides
had
set up before they left. As was the upper-class fashion, they brought
with
them everything they possibly could in order to simulate their home
life in
London. Their tent had a heavy wooden floor, and real mattresses on
the
beds. They even had small chifferobes for their clothing. The food,
however,
was not going to last long, and their guide had gone into the woods
to hunt
and forage for the women.
Growing up orphaned and poor on London's South Side had taught Xena a
lot,
and one of the things that had helped her survive had been her
instincts.
Her instincts now told her not to trust their guide, Drake O'Malley,
farther
than she could throw him. He was a native of Borneo, but had been
taken off
the island at a very young age and educated in England by a missionary
group, one of whose members had adopted him. His dark skin and hair
were the
only resemblance he bore to the other native guides he had procured
to move
their belongings, and even when he spoke their language you could
hear the
British accent in his words. His clothing was impeccable, and his
manners
sublime. But his eyes were wild and frightening, and Xena couldn't
help but
feel that she and Gabrielle were merely convenient tools that would
help him
get whatever he was really here for. She didn't care for the way he
looked
at Gabrielle, either.
Gabrielle had been the only good thing in Xena's life, ever. They had
become
friends when just in their early teens, when the younger girl had been
caught out on the streets in a terrible rainstorm without her
umbrella, and
taken shelter in a doorway Xena had already occupied. The little
blonde was
friendly and outgoing, politely ignoring the other girl's shabby
condition.
When the storm ended, she had taken her new friend back to her
palatial town
home in the finest area of the city, and *demanded* her father allow
Xena to
stay. Sir Reginald had never really known how to refuse his headstrong
child, and after many legal inquiries, it was decided that Xena had
no blood
relatives to object, and would stay at the Taylor household.
The girl from the streets was educated and outfitted alongside the
daughter
of one of London's leading families, but she never entirely lost the
wild
child she had been. So when Gabrielle began to wheedle for the trip to
Borneo to paint the scenery, her father arranged for Xena to have
formal
training in the arts of personal protection. His first suggestion of a
professional bodyguard had been met with near violent opposition, and
so,
the friend and foundling became the guardian. She would have already
given
her life for the blonde, but now she had the skills to really *do*
something, should she ever be threatened.
She was about to make an idle comment about the heat and humidity,
just to
stir up the young painter, when a cry, something not quite human,
ripped
through the camp. Gabrielle dropped her brush as Xena leapt to her
feet. The
blonde woman's heart had almost slowed down when she saw the big cat
creep
from the brush toward her. She screamed herself.
~**~
Joxer saw both the females react to his cry. He was satisfied that he
now
had their attention. His best friend slunk up behind him, resting her
jaw on
his shoulder as he crouched, waiting. "Looks like it worked, Jox, but
on the
wrong one," Chula growled quietly in his ear.
Sure enough, the dark one was moving smoothly in his direction, a
shiny
object in her hand. "I'll go talk to the other one, while you make
your
apologies to this one," Chula chuckled. "Otherwise, you could end up
with
the wrong mate. I gotta say, I never thought that cry of yours could
attract
a single female, let alone *two*." She slunk through the trees toward
the
smaller of the two strange creatures.
Xena held her knife at the ready, and cursed Drake for taking the
gun. They
only had one, and she knew that he needed it for hunting, but still...
Quietly, she crept in the direction of the cry, hoping that whatever
had
made that ungodly sound was in danger itself, and not a danger to her
or her
friend. A rustling of leaves let her know that whatever it had been
was
still there. She was nearly to the spot when Gabrielle screamed.
Joxer was startled - most females didn't cry out in return. Then he
saw the
dark one spin, and he could smell their fear. Suddenly, it
registered -
Chula! Most animals feared the jaguar, and rightly so. She was a
fierce
hunter, swift and deadly. He had seen her in action himself, and was
grateful that she was his friend. These two creatures couldn't know
that she
was not there to harm them. Without further thought, Joxer sprang
from the
branch, grabbing a vine and swinging over the head of the dark one to
land
between his chosen and Chula. Growling in his friend's tongue, he
warned
her, "They're afraid. Go back!"
Confused, Chula replied, "But I don't plan to hurt them."
"They don't know that. Go on - I'll handle it." She hesitated, and he
snarled in impatience. Giving up, the jaguar turned tail and left.
Crouching in a non-threatening stance, he turned to the beautiful
female and
comforted her in orangutan, "Don't worry, she's gone now. She wasn't
going
to hurt you." The female's face still looked troubled, and now she
looked
confused as well.
Xena was almost in shock when the pale golden figure shot through the
air
above her and landed in front of the jaguar. Then there was growling
and
snarling between them, and the big cat retreated. Turning, the man
hunched
down and began to screech at her best friend.
For it *was* a man - a tall, lean man, dressed in nothing but a
loincloth,
with long chestnut hair streaming down his back. Otherwise, his
golden body
seemed nearly hairless. The muscles of his arms and chest, as well as
his
upper back were sleek and firm, and his legs also appeared powerful.
Afraid
to lower the knife, but somehow comforted by his appearance, she
approached
slowly. Gabrielle saw her, and held up her hand. Never taking her
eyes off
the figure before her, she called, "Stop, Xena. He saved me. I don't
think
he means us any harm." Then she lowered her hand, and held it out to
him in
greeting - like one would offer one's palm to a strange dog to show
you're
not a threat.