Radiklement: What if Jane was the only survivor of the shipwreck and she survived in Tarzan's parents' treehouse? (with some Jane/Tarzan fluff/smut)
Jane sat with her legs crossed inside the tree-house, having re-thatched much of the roof to better provide shelter from the alternating rain deluges and blistering sun. Her calloused fingers were knotting the finishing touches on the fishing net she had been weaving for over a month. She hoped her hard work would hold together the first time she threw it in the water. After an hour of work she stood, holding up the net and running it through her fingers to inspect it,
"Well now Jane, I'd say even the fishermen back home would color themselves impressed," She remarked to herself proudly. She was thrilled at the idea that dinner would become an easier task to accomplish, and that she wouldn't have to rely so heavily on insects to maintain an adequate protein intake. Though she'd be a liar if she tried to claim certain insects didn't taste far too delicious after a good roast over a fire. It just took so much damned time to gather enough of them.
She brushed her tangled hair from her face, vainly tucking it behind her ear. I need to weave a new headband to keep my hair out of my face. She thought to herself. With her net completed, she would need a new project to occupy her free time. She had kept her hair shoulder-length; long enough to protect the nape of her neck, but short enough that it was less frustrating to manage. Her once pale skin was bronzed in the places it wasn't red and blistered. Fingernails were short, frequently broken by manual labor. Her once lithe figure had trimmed, muscles defined under her skin. Her face had become more defined, and she looked less a child and more a woman. While she had managed to fashion herself pseudo-shoes from the local plant life, the young woman spent much of her time barefoot giving her thick calloused feet that were criss-crossed with scars. Her clothes were a combination of what she had salvaged from the shipwreck, having made adjustments to male pants finding them far more practical than her skirts, and a collection of garments fashioned from the jungle's bounty; for the days it was too hot for proper clothing, but enough to protect the modesty she found she couldn't let go of.
A gentle rattle caught her attention, and she dropped her net, her hand snatching the spear that was never out of arm's reach. She spun around towards the direction of the sound, her wide eyes searching for the intruder. She tried to control her breathing so her own respiration wouldn't cover the sound of the approaching threat. The furthest reach of her peripheral vision caught motion, and she turned quickly and swung her spear, hardly managing to stop herself before skewering her guest,
"Tarzan!" She snapped, "I hate it when you sneak up on me like that!" She lowered her guard, dropping the spear to her side,
"You took my advice," He replied with a smile,
"The whole place is rigged with alarms I've made," She replied, "Did you purposely run through one just to test me?" She asked,
"No... it was very low, didn't expect it..." He admitted sheepishly, somewhat ashamed to admit he was too busy avoiding the string of nut shells hanging from the top of the door frame to notice the second set strung across the foot of the threshold.
"The mighty Tarzan's sneak attack interrupted by the delicate naturalist from England?" She fluttered a hand over her chest in mock-suprise, allowing herself to feel pride at the effectiveness of her homemade alarm system. After Sabor had left a near-fatal wound in her left arm in an attack that the wild man had interrupted with little time to spare, Tarzan had insisted the young woman be more aware of the dangers of the jungle. She had been too jarred from the attack to argue, and set to work over the following weeks to rig her entire home with noise makers so nothing could sneak up on her again. The memory reminded her of the stiffness and tingling in the arm, and she flexed her fingers to ease some of it. "So what brings you here today?" She asked.
"I need a reason?" came the reply. Was that sarcasm? He's spending too much time with me. She thought to herself.
"No," came her quick reply, a smile pulled her lips as he moved closer to her and stood to his full height. She looked up into his blue eyes, such strange wild eyes. She closed her own as he leaned into her, capturing her in a kiss. She wondered if the gesture was a natural human instinct, or just a gesture she had taught him that he found he enjoyed. She tried to shut up the scientist in her and just enjoy the moment without having to analyze it. He rarely took initiative, and it was Jane who broke the kiss to gently bite down on his bottom lip, her hands reaching up behind his head, tangling in his thick dreadlocks. He smelled of sweat, dirt, and a distinct odor that had long ceased to be unpleasant to her. It was simply the scent of him. A scent that awoke an array of impure thoughts that she allowed herself to embrace, seeing no need to feel ashamed of perfectly natural urges. It's almost always the female of the species who are in control of mating rituals in the jungle. She found herself thinking at his hesitation, and once again tried to tell the scientist in her to shut the hell up. She whispered her desire into Tarzan's ear, losing herself as his arms pulled her tighter against him.
Emboldened by Jane's breathy voice against his ear, and the increasingly aggressive movements of her hands, Tarzan allowed himself to be captured by his own desires. He pulled at her clothing, wanting to feel her skin not this foreign material. She was quick to discard her shirt, but wiggling out of her pants was harder with the firm grip Tarzan had on her. His lips clashed against her neck, teeth biting down on her skin before his tongue tasted the salt on her skin. Her scent was almost maddening, and he wondered how he could resist pinning her to the ground every time he was near her. He recalled the strange way she smelled during their first meeting. Foreign. Strange. But that scent vanished quickly enough, and he was able to smell the real Jane. Not the false-flower smell of the stuff she called perfume. She smelled like Jane. And it drove him wild.
Out of her own clothing Jane now fumbled with the small cloth wrapped around Tarzan's groin. The garment was more about comfort and protection than modesty, a trait so foreign to him she gave up on explaining why she retained it herself long ago. She pulled Tarzan over to what functioned as a bed, eliciting a delighted grunt from him, and she could feel his breathing quicken beneath the fingers she splayed on his chest. She could feel the truth of his desire against her thigh, and shifted her hips to keep them from joining quite yet,
"No need to rush," she whispered to him, getting a disappointed moan,
"No need to tease me Jane," came the reply. She remembered the first time they caved to desire. It was fast and messy, leaving the pair spent and satisfied. But Jane didn't want every encounter to be guided by lust alone. She wanted his voice to fill her ears, his kisses, his breath on her neck, his hands and tongue absolutely everywhere. She wanted these liaisons to stretch into the night. She had shown him what their nights could be like, and he embraced it. She had taught him a new world of affection, and it nearly drove him mad with desire. The man, the outcast, the hairless freak of the gorilla clan. He finally found another human. And he simply couldn't get enough of her. Far from England, and the pressure to be a proper lady, Jane could cave to her every desire; let herself follow impulse and desire, get lost in the arms of this wild man. The man who taught her the paths in the jungle, where to find anything she may need. He showed her her every heart's desire. She got to study exotic creatures any naturalist would have died for the chance to see. And her beloved gorillas. She got to meet them. To watch them. To speak with the intelligent creatures. She had want for nothing.
God damn it I love him. She thought to herself as he brought his tongue against her neck again, his breath ticking her, the weight of him on top of her almost uncomfortable, his scent filling her nose. She nearly couldn't resist caving to her lust, taking it slow suddenly felt like torture. She whispered his name, and her moan told him to keep his damn hands exactly where they were.
He knew the places to kiss, to place his hands, work his fingers to get her to writhe and moan beneath him. His tongue clashed with hers once more, the taste of her was as intoxicating as her scent. He wanted it all. To know every aspect of her. I'm finally not so alone. And he wanted to make her feel as blissful as he. To make her feel as wonderful as she made him feel. After several more moments of the delicious torture, Jane tilted her hips and they joined. Their moans and gasps filled the tree house, hips thrusting as Tarzan held Jane's hands over her head, his face buried into the nape of her neck. Animalistic grunts and moans replaced all words as they writhed together until they were both left panting and gasping in the bed, the sounds of their voices having frightened off flocks of birds. Sleep took the lovers, basking in the afterglow of passion as the afternoon wore into early evening.
Tarzan woke, disappointed to find Jane's warm body no longer curled in his arms. He was hoping to feel more of her warm skin beneath his hands. He opened his eyes, seeing her naked form sitting in the center of the room fussing with what appeared to be netting. She looked up at him, her concentration broken when he called her name.
"I made a fishing net," Jane explained when he pointed to the object in her hands. "Help me catch fish easier. Want to come to the water to help me test it?" she asked,
"I've never fished with a net before, just spears or my bare hands," the wild man answered. "I'd like to learn," he always loved to learn, almost as much as she enjoyed teaching him.
"Let's go then!" She called excitedly. By the stars he loved the smile that overtook her when she was excited about something. Tarzan replaced the small wrappings around his groin to protect himself, and Jane dressed in more modest clothing that she insisted were to protect herself from the relentless sun at the beach, "My shoulders are peeling enough as it is. I need something to protect my skin," Tarzan followed her to the beach, where together they looked for signs of schooling fish. As the sun began to set schools of fish would brave the coastal water to feed, the perfect time for Jane to test out her handiwork. She only hoped weeks of work would not be in vain. Eventually they saw the ripples in the water and Jane eased out her net, trying to remember what she watched fishermen back home do with the nets. It took patience, Tarzan complaining that his spear would have caught more fish by now, Jane answering him with an insistent shush. After some time Jane pulled in her net, and much to her joy was filled with fish.
"You'll never be able to eat all that," Tarzan said, fascinated by the effectiveness of this net.
"I've been spending the last several months collecting and evaporating the ocean water for salt. I can preserve most of this fish so I'll have food to last me a while," she explained excitedly, inspecting the net to check for signs of damage as she pulled in her bounty.
"The smell will attract predators," Tarzan insisted, but Jane shook her head,
"I'll dry the fish with salt to preserve it and bury it in some of the clay containers I salvaged from the shipwreck. Took me a while to fix them, but it should keep the smell down and the predators out," she explained. She had found clay deposits in several locations in the jungle, and had used the soft ruddy material to repair the jars she had salvaged from the original shipwreck. She only lamented she wasn't a good enough clay-worker to make entire jars from scratch. Perhaps, like her net, weeks of practice and work would yield usable results. Tarzan seemed confused, but didn't press her for an explanation, "but for tonight what do you say we gather some fruit and roast some of this fish over a fire, have a nice dinner together?" she asked, and he leaned forward to answer her with a kiss,
"Anything for Jane," the young woman blushed at his response.
"I'd share the bounty with your family, but gorilla's don't eat fish," she remarked, feeling somewhat selfish suddenly for gathering so much food that only she and Tarzan could enjoy. "But since I'll have enough fish to last me at least a week I can help your family gather insects to eat since I won't be spending so much time gathering some for myself," she offered. "We can gather some extra fruit tonight too to share,"
"Kerchak would approve," Tarzan nodded, knowing the silverback of his clan was always so hesitant to accept him, though defeating Sabor had gained him a level of respect. He had hated Jane at first, finding her another dangerous intruder. But Kala had insisted Kerchak never hurt the young woman, and in time Jane's careful visits with Tarzan at her side, and her offerings of food, meant most of the clan came to accept her. They were the ones to teach her how to use sticks to efficiently gather termites to eat. Terk had taken to her quickly, trusting Tarzan's judgement, and occasionally was with Tarzan when he visited Jane at her tree-house. To gain Kerchak's trust was the final endeavor for the woman to be fully welcomed into the fold.
Tarzan helped Jane carry the net heavy with fish and seawater, and Jane showed him how she was preparing to preserve the fish. He watched, fascinated as he was with all of her lessons.
"They preserve food back in... England?" he asked, hesitating for a moment as he forgot the name of her homeland.
"Sometimes," she explained, not wanting to elaborate on how bountiful food was back in England. I don't think of it as home anymore. She noted to herself. Other than the sharp pain of missing her father, she realized she wasn't homesick anymore, despite how arduous surviving in the jungle was. Tarzan made this place feel more like home than England ever did, with her being the strange outcast, far too interested in science for her own good. Tarzan never scoffed at either her knowledge or her curiosity. Rather, he embraced it. Her father was the only other person to ever accept her for who she was, and not try to turn her into a proper lady.
They spent the evening enjoying roasted fish with fruit and edible roots, and gathered more fruit to bring to the gorilla clan. Jane followed Tarzan through the dense jungle, their bundle of food carried in satchels slung over their shoulders. She worried about traveling after dark, for it was when the larger predators emerged. Her wild man reassured her as they made their way, and she tried to push away her fears and put her trust in him. The clan were busy making their sleeping nests for the night when they arrived, and Terk was the first to charge at Tarzan with a series of excited whoops. Jane chuckled at the sight, then gasped as Terk switched her attention to the young woman, throwing her full weight at her knocking her to the ground, spilling the contents of her satchel. Jane tried the greeting sounds Tarzan had taught her, and Terk grunted back in greeting. She reached for some of the spilled fruit which was already being greedily gathered by the clan, and offered a piece to Terk, who accepted it with grateful grunts and whoops. Her eyes canned the clan for the familiar Kala, and approached her slowly, and offered the matron some food as well, getting further grateful grunts. Jane remembered Tarzan wanted her to offer some to Kerchak, but the Silverback had distanced himself from the moment Tarzan and her had emerged.
"Tarzan... I don't think Kerchak wants to see us," she offered hesitantly, to which he shook his head,
"Come, I'll help you," he insisted, handing her his own satchel and pulling on her hand. She furrowed her brow, reluctant to follow. Tarzan grunted at Kerchak, who looked down at him until Tarzan brought himself to his full height, meeting the Silverback's gaze, "Kerchak, we mean you no harm," he insisted, to which the gorilla snorted, the noises exchanged between the beast and wild man clearly argumentative in nature.
"We can try another day Tarzan..." Jane was growing more anxious by the moment, and diverted her eyes to avoid making eye contact with the large gorilla,
"Show him the food," Tarzan replied, unfazed by her growing fear. "Show him you want to help the clan," Jane hesitated, then slowly emptied the contents of the satchel before Kerchak, who tilted his head at the offering before turning his attention back to Tarzan. Jane regretted that she couldn't understand the gorilla's like he could, and hoped in time she could. But for the time, she would have to trust in her wild man to speak on her behalf. "He's grateful," Tarzan explained to her, letting himself smile. "I know it's hard to tell... but he is." Jane let a small smile pull at her features, though she was skeptical. "He'll warm up to you in time. My mother won't leave him alone about it otherwise," This got a chuckle from Jane, letting some of her tension ease. She looked from Tarzan to the gorillas that surrounded them, and marveled at how none seemed to shy away from her, all appeared content as they ate the fruits brought to them, and felt Tarzan's arm wrap around her, pulling her close to him.
The shipwreck reallly was the best thing to ever happen to me.
I'm quite dissatisfied with the latter part of this fic... but I did try. I know it petered out in the end for which I apologize, but I hope it's still an enjoyable read!