Love Of All Kinds — Chapter Nine

NOVEMBER 1, 1885—Africa

The day was exceptionally warm, and a steady mid-morning breeze ruffled the greenery. Several trunks lay in varying different places around the treehouse, each filled with small collections of the Porter's possessions. Jane had occupied most of her morning packing for herself and for Tarzan – only the essentials, she had said - most things could be bought in London upon their arrival, anyways.

Tarzan had been gone for some time, although she had no idea where he'd gone to. They were scheduled to leave at noon, and she hoped he wouldn't be gone much longer so he could assist her in bringing the trunks to the beach to be picked up by the ship's crew. She closed the top of the trunk she had been packing with her clothing, clasping it shut. She didn't have much to bring, in actuality. Most of her dresses were suited to summer, not late autumn and winter - all that aside, most of these things wouldn't fit her in a few months, even if it had been the right season.

Looking up, she saw Tarzan, standing in the doorway of the treehouse, a small, wrapped package in his arms. Jane raised an eyebrow at him, "What have you got there?"

"A surprise. For you," he said, holding the package out for her.

She took it from him, and carefully lifted away the paper wrapping. It was a dress - a striking cerulean color, with white lace trim along the bottom and sleeves. Jane admired it for a moment before speaking. "My goodness, dear, this is beautiful! Where ever did you get it?"

"The trading post," Tarzan said, pleased that Jane seemed to like it. "I wanted to get you something nice to wear for when you…we…get to London."

Jane blushed, "Oh, Tarzan…thank you. I don't know what to say." It was a beautiful dress - nicer than any she had ever owned back in England, Jane speculated. She never attached much meaning to attire until recently. She was a different Jane Porter now than when she had left London, and, perhaps this was a way of showing that.

NOVEMBER 1, 1885—Atlantic Ocean

Jane returned to the small room that she was sharing with Tarzan on the ship after a brief stroll around the deck. It was a beautiful day - somewhat reminiscent of the day that she and her father had arrived in Africa, albeit, a little cooler. She reflected on that day - how naive she had been by virtue of her age, how guarded she had been in some sense - and now, how she'd grown and opened up. It was certainly expected that she would return to England one day - but that would be for good, not like this - not pregnant and with the intention of returning to Africa.

Jane finally reached their room, and opened the door. It was a small room - just enough space for two people to share, but she didn't mind. They would only be here for a little while. She entered the room and saw Tarzan there, pacing back and forth across the floor. He seemed worried, she observes, although she couldn't guess exactly why. "Tarzan?" she said, "Are you alright?"

He turned to face her, slightly caught off guard, not noticing that she had come in a moment earlier. "Jane—yes, I'm fine. Perfectly fine."

"You most certainly don't seem fine," Jane replied, "I know you better than that."

Tarzan grimaced slightly, knowing that he'd been silly to think she wouldn't notice this eventually. She was so observant - much like her father. It must be all the scientific research that made them so keen and aware of things, he concluded. He nodded slowly. "You're right. I'm not fine." Jane raised her eyebrows, not thinking that he would admit to this so easily. "I'm worried."

"About what? Oh, it's not about the pregnancy, is it? It's going to be fine. I didn't mean to give you the wrong impression when I said that pregnancy was dangerous. It is, but only if you don't see doctors and such. Daddy has made arrangements for me to see doctors. It's going to be fine, I promise."

He shook his head, "No, I know, it's not about that. It's about England. I'm…scared." For someone who had lived his whole life in the jungle, fear was not an emotion he felt often - and he certainly wouldn't admit to it easily, either. "I don't want to embarrass you."

"What ever do you mean?" Jane asked, genuinely bewildered.

"Look at me," he sighed, "I'm not English. I've heard you talk about England - there are so many rules and things that you can and can't do. I don't know those rules, Jane - I've never lived with people aside from you and your father."

"You'll learn, Tarzan, I know you will," Jane said, patting his back reassuringly.

"People back in England…they expect you to marry a proper English man, don't they?" he asked. Jane nodded. "And, that's not me. I don't want people to judge you for being with me."

Jane sighed, understanding his fear. She had no reservations about going to England with him - she didn't care what people thought about her. She was happy, and that's what mattered. This wouldn't be the first time people had judged her for who she loved, either. "I'll admit, that's a valid trepidation. There's nothing you could do to embarrass me, love," Jane said, "But you're right, people might have…thoughts—less than kind ones."

Tarzan knew this already. "I'm going to do my best to be English - for you."

"You really don't have to, Tarzan, it's really fine."

"I know I don't have to. I want to. You and your father have lived in my world every day for months. I want to at least try to live in your English world…for you."

Jane smiled. She knew he was smart - she knew that from the beginning, but she didn't quite grasp how emotionally intelligent he was. "I appreciate that. And I appreciate you telling me what you're feeling." Jane was acutely aware of how difficult it likely was for him to be vulnerable emotionally after decades not having anyone to talk to about anything.

"It's all for you, Jane."

•••••

I just wanted to give credit where credit is due (to a reader of mine), to TwilightSparkle3562 for the idea of incorporating Jane's blue dress from the trading post into the story.