Disclaimer: The characters and relationships between the characters from the Tarzan books and the movies are copyright of Edgar Rice Burroughs and Disney. I only own any fanfiction characters.

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Category: Disney (Tarzan)
Genre: Romance/Action/Adventure
Rating: PG
Summary: More strangers encounter the African jungle, but what do they want? One of the humans finds herself rather attracted to Tarzan, but how can she remove Jane from the picture so she can be with him?

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Part Five

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Anxious voices sounded dim and faint as the colours began to blend back into one another, the atmosphere returning little by little. Tarzan felt his eyelids flutter open gently.

"Tarzan?" came a familiar voice. "Tarzan, can you hear me?"

He frowned slightly, attempting to bring recognition as to who was talking to him, and trying to bring him back to wherever he needed to be. Something suddenly clicked together in his brain and he opened his mouth to speak.

"You," he whispered, looking into the forestry eyes of young Olivia.

"Oh, thank goodness!" she breathed, her face lighting up with an elegant smile, as her cheekbones glazed with blush. She turned and called back to the inside of the treehouse, although Tarzan could only see her. "It's all right! He's awake!"

Soft footsteps came next and soon Tarzan heard the thankful cries of his wife, greeting him with a gentle shadow and a warm kiss on his lips. He smiled lazily.

"Oh, Tarzan – thank heavens you're all right!" she gasped out, soft tears of relief beginning to brim behind her eyelids. "I thought I had lost you for a moment, my love – I was so worried!" She rested her head on his chest, snuggling into the fresh dosage of comfort and want.

Confused and still a little dizzy, Tarzan tried to sit up, but found that fresh pain seared through his arm and fingers and he had to lie down once more, a wave of nausea flooding his vision. "What happened?" he managed to croak.

"Don't you remember, my boy?" another voice answered, and the professor emerged from the other room, carrying a roll of bandages in one hand, his face grave and serious. "You ran into quite a bit of trouble out there – more than usual...and Jane was so worried..."

Jane giggled despite the situation and gave her husband a weak smile. "What daddy means to say, darling, is that for a while, I wasn't sure what to do. Luckily, Tantor finally heard my cries and we carried you home."

Tarzan blinked, the crimson pachyderm a blurred memory. "Tantor?"

"Why – that's right!" the professor chimed in again, his green eyes now focused on the sight of their new young arrival. "And what a surprise it was when this charming lady was waiting here...in your treehouse, of all places!" He gestured towards the flushing Olivia. "She told a fascinating story on what had happened to her out there in the jungle...poor girl – "

Olivia chuckled. "Well, Mr Porter, I wouldn't necessarily use the word fascinating, now...more or less – "

"Needless to say," broke in Jane, directing her beaming, rosy expression to the girl, taking her hand in hers with delight. "She proved herself to be a very amiable person indeed." She turned to Tarzan again, new found happiness lighting up her sapphire eyes. "She assisted us with your injury, love."

"She did?" Tarzan questioned. He stared into Olivia's jade eyes with an look that couldn't be doubted as gratitude. "Thank you."

The girl felt her cheeks grow warm again but she struggled to hide it from Jane by turning away, suddenly very preoccupied with her hands. "Well...erm, you're very welcome, Tarzan," she spluttered, gathering up the wet cloth that was laid at the side of the bed.

Making her way back to the back room of the treehouse, Olivia spun around to declare something else, when she noticed that once again, Tarzan's strong arms were encircled around Jane's shoulders, and their faces and lips were touching together in small signs of affection. A soft smile was grazing the young man's face as he kissed the woman he loved, all the while a bruising pain seemed to be crushing Olivia's chest.

She hid a suppressible sigh as she carried the utensils to the opposite corner and allowed the two of them to enjoy each other's company.

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"Dewdrop?" came the feeble whisper, drifting into the young teenager's ears.

She smiled faintly, attempting to bring some shred of happiness or hope into the tiny, suffocating bedroom. "Hello, mummy," she answered back, her tone a little choked.

The woman smiled, her long chestnut curls draped over the soft, feather pillow and swimming there. Her sea green eyes seemed dimmed, as if they were a candle struggling to keep its light on the sill of a gale's victim. She coughed.

"How are you feeling?" came the question, trying not to be as sad as it sounded.

Lady Catherine grinned, looking rather unusual against her waning features. "Oh...I'm feeling fantastic, sweetheart," she answered sincerely, her voice croaky but sounding rather melodious, as if she were singing. "I finally get to see the world...I shall finally be free." She raised a shaky hand to her daughter's cheek, stroking it tenderly, and suddenly that small flicker of sadness reached the sight. "The only thing I regret is...leaving behind what I love so much."

Sobs erupted from the girl's lips and she let the tears flow bitterly, angry that she hadn't been able to stop them and show her mother that she was growing up from adolescence, escaping childhood and juvenile tendencies. She wanted to show her that she had dignity, and that crying showed the lack of it.

At least, hadn't that been what her father had told her?

"Oh, mummy," she wept, burying her face in her palms as sunken tears dripped onto the front of her layered dress. "I don't want you to leave me...I don't want you to go."

Her mother coughed again, this time sounding very hollow and low, as it cruelly tore at her delicate throat. "I shall always be with you, Dewdrop...I shall never leave you – "

"Yes, you will!" squeaked the young girl, squeezing her hands together as her untidy hair hung down loosely, tears dripping and flowing through the fleshy banks. "You are leaving me, mummy – I'll never see you again, and I shall be left alone with...with him..."

This time, a rather impatient sigh hung in the air as it freed itself from the woman's ruined lungs. Her brow creased with seriousness. "Your father loves you, darling," she told her gently. "He cares deeply for you. Please take care of him for me. He is not a bad man."

Warm droplets cascaded down the girl's face, and that would have been enough to cause her mother to disappear altogether.

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"Miss Greenway?"

Olivia turned sharply from the bamboo encircled window and found herself staring straight into Jane's concerned face, her eyebrows narrowed in puzzlement.

She suddenly felt dampness on her cheeks and brushed it away quickly with a sweep of her pale hand, pieces of her copper hair clinging to it without want. "Hello," she sniffed, attempting to crack one of her pleasant grins.

Please go away, she thought miserably. I don't want anyone to see me like this.

"Whatever's the matter?" the woman asked kindly, lightly touching her shoulder for supporting comfort, the kind that anyone would give for if they were grieving so deeply. "You look so upset, dear."

Olivia breathed her sadness away. "I was merely...thinking about someone."

Understandably, Jane sat down on a nearby chair, wooden motif, and motioned graciously for Olivia to sit down next to her, a sweet, warming smile lighting up the mood.

Reluctantly, the young English girl paced slowly over to the seating area, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear, since she didn't want to fiddle with her fingers and she somehow managed to blink a few hijacking tears behind her eyes.

"Now, tell me," Jane began calmly, taking one of Olivia's hands in both of her gentle ones. "What's troubling you?"

Olivia sighed deeply, not quite sure where to begin. After all, no one else had really asked her much about her past. She wasn't intent on telling anyone and this had caused her to think it wasn't important enough for the knowledge of others. Still, she found herself speaking.

"My mother," she explained in a tiny voice. "She died when I was just a young girl...and I never...I-I never..." She paused, staring at the fingers that were sympathetically caressing hers.

"It's all right," Jane assured her. "Go on."

Tears were working their way up again: she could feel them burning behind her lids. "I never had a chance to say that I loved her," she whispered, biting her lip as a way to prevent it from trembling.

"I'm sorry," was the considerate reply, and now the soft fingers were squeezing. "I understand how you feel."

Olivia looked up. "Your mother is dead?"

Jane nodded, with no sign to escape the confrontation.

"God rest her soul."

Her blue eyes lit up with a new smile at the politeness of the young girl. "Thank you. It was quite a blow at first light, but...that was so long ago. I understood that I still have others to look after me, others who still cared about me. My father...and now Tarzan." She beamed to herself, for a few seconds into the conversation she seemed lost in her own little world. "He is all that my heart was waiting for."

The sea green eyes seemed to waver a little, before fixating and regaining their dignity. "I wish I were as lucky as you, Mrs Jane. It's...it's different for me."

Jane's smile flickered slightly. "Oh? How do you mean?"

"It's...it's just my father..." but then with a stab of horror she trailed off, realising that she was saying too much. If these people discovered that it had been her father that had brought harm and pain to Tarzan, then they may wish to cast her out and never have anything to do with her ever again.

I don't want that, she told herself. I wish to stay here, with Tarzan.

She shook the thoughts away with a wave of her hand and a smile of amusement, reflecting Jane's addictive grin. "No matter," she announced cheerfully. "The important thing is that Tarzan is well again. We don't want to be travelling down a ramp of unhappy memories, now do we?"

Jane was immediately warming to Olivia, with her charm and English ways. It had been a while since she had spoken to a woman with such intellect and understanding of the outside world whom she could really connect to, and now here she was, in the shape of an eighteen year old woman, with the sweetest nature and the wit to match. In some peculiar, bizarre way she felt as if she were sitting in an old, Victorian English parlour, chatting away and hearing all of the new delights that this girl had to offer.

"No," she answered kindly. "No, we don't want that at all."

"I got quite a bit of a fright when he was brought back in that condition," murmured Olivia, her eyes glazed with the thought of it again. "I was dreadfully frightened for him – at first I thought that he had been attacked by some animal."

Jane chuckled with a shake of her head. "Oh, no, no, Tarzan has had many encounters with animals, he knows their physiques ever so well...surely he would not have let himself become badly hurt over...a leopard, for instance."

Olivia's curiosity was beginning to take over and bubble out into the conversation. She had never met anyone like Tarzan before. Such a man: with his well toned muscles and boundless energy, moving in such a manner and knowing the movements of animals better than they did themselves...?

"Who is Tarzan?" the question just slipped out before she could stop herself.

Jane frowned, the confusion causing a ripple effect that spread to all parts of her face and even her voice. "Who is he? I'm sorry, what do you mean?"

The girl sighed, feeling as if she had said the wrong thing. "I'm sorry if I was so bold – "she started to apologise, but Jane interrupted her.

"No – no, I was just...please elaborate."

Her jade irises swam with new questions that needed answering, and as she twiddled her fingers uncomfortably and idly gathering the skirts on her dress, let loose her voice to the Englishwoman.

"He just seems so...different, from any other person I'd ever met. I-I could not understand it at first – I mean, I was slightly shocked, but...I don't know...something told me that I had nothing to worry about. Although when I first saw him he just seemed so...so, primitive. And that was something that I couldn't quite grasp."

"Oh, I see," Jane replied, nodding in understanding as the explanation progressed, politely listening. "It's quite a long story, actually. It delves back into Tarzan's childhood, and let me tell you...it's rather astonishing."

Olivia smiled, secretly dancing inside at finding out everything about this wonderful man that she had met...now maybe at last, once things made more sense, she would find more to talk about with him. It was something she had wanted to do as he had lain there beneath those blankets.

"I have time," she laughed gently, eager and interested. "Please, do go on. I would love to hear everything."