I was asked it this was going to be a Jalph fanfiction, and I'm going assume it was pertaining to slash. My answer is going to be that I wasn't planning on it; the relationship I had in mind wasn't going to extend past a rather interesting friendship, but from what I am told, there are definitely hints of Jalph if the story were to be read with a slash mindset. And it's still early in the plot, so we'll see.
Arrows:Chapter 6
Trouble
Movement wakes Jack up the next morning; he tenses, the subdued glint of metal flashes for a brief second in the weak light before the ginger registers that the movement was the result of Ralph standing up against the cave wall and yanking irritably at the vine tethering him like a dog. Jack smirks lazily; flicking his spear around to dig the sharp end of the weapon into the captive's injured back. The blond starts, jerking away quickly and twisting his body around to face his companion pale eyes shooting a glare at the pleased expression on the other's face. Jack ignores the pointed look, arching his back like a cat in a luxurious stretch before sitting up to inspect his unwilling companion. He knows that just his presence is enough to annoy Ralph and he intends to prolong the other's frustration for as long as he can, so he adopts an artist's eye in the examination of the prisoner, scrutinizing every detail.
Three years has changed his old nemesis; the sun has bleached Ralph's hair to a silvery white and a faint trail of freckles has appeared on his nose and cheekbones. His jaw had become more defined and the elegant cheekbones were more chiselled. The boy had shot up as well, but after seeing all of his tribe become beanstalks in the last couple of years, Jack isn't surprised at this. What intrigued him was the icy aura that wrapped around the blond; two years of isolation had somehow made Ralph completely incomprehensible. Jack had witnessed this yesterday when Ralph became an embodiment of sheer blood thirst, fighting against Roger with a clear intent to maim and destroy. It was a show that Jack hadn't anticipated at all and he'd wondered briefly if they'd both kill each other right there in the clearing. But then just as abruptly as Ralph had become deadly, he'd reverted back to normal and taken a 180 turn. The redhead would have thought that his second in command had killed the blond if not for the subtle movements Ralph made in the few minutes after the grand finale.
Ralph glares at his captor for another couple of minutes before purposely turning away to tug savagely at his leash again, grumbling under his breath at the chafing around his ankle. Jack knows that the blond teen is itching for freedom; being confined against his will is as alien to him as civilized life is to Jack. He grins, sauntering over to the occupied male, and loops his arm around the other's neck. Jack feels the other's body tense just before Ralph attempts to headbutt the ginger, wanting Jack to lessen the pressure on his windpipe; his tormentor simply grins and avoids the hit, using his other arm to force the blond still.
Pushing Ralph to the brink is one of his favorite pastimes; Jack discovered this inclination during the early years of the island. He'd broken the rules and tested Ralph's authority because he'd liked seeing the normally collected male become flustered and indecisive. A reaction that eventually became a common occurrence when Jack had enticed most of the boys to his tribe; Ralph's obvious stress had given Jack no end of delight. Now, he plays with fire in another way; one hand slides its way under the blond's chin and tilts it up forcefully. The back of Ralph's head smacks onto Jack's shoulder and the redhead smiles in entertainment at the cough that the trapped male emits from the sudden pressure change. The ice blue eyes glint wickedly and Jack ducks his head, grazing sharp canines against the other male's exposed throat; Ralph jumps and snarls, lean muscles rippling under the restraining arm Jack's wound around his torso. The hunter smirks in satisfaction and spins the blond around, slamming the other against the rocky wall. Ralph hisses at the pain from the raw skin on his back and kicks at the redhead in front of him, mute threats communicated clearly through the stormy eyes. Jack dodges the attack again with all the grace of a cat before immobilizing Ralph's legs with his own; the blond stops struggling with this, reverting to the same statue-like form he'd adopted the day before with Roger.
"What do you want?" The question is spit at the redhead with as much venom packed into one sentence as possible. The redhead simply arches an eyebrow, enjoying the irate expression glowing in the slate grey eyes.
"Isn't that my question? After all, you were the one who woke me up." He feels the captive's slender arms flex, subconsciously trying to free his bound hands so that he could punch the aggravating ginger. Jack tightens his hold on the two limbs, drawing another hiss of anger from the blond teen.
"You-"
"Chief! There's a-" The newcomer stops short when he sees the position the two other boys are in and flushes a tomato red, "Uhh...I...um...you...I mean, sorryforinterupting!"
Jack disengages himself easily, stepping away from the blond male with no trace of discomfort on his face and waves at the stuttering boy to go on with his report. The young hunter shifts uneasily from one foot to another, feeling murderous vibes radiating from somewhere behind the tall teen's shoulder. Jack snaps his fingers at the boy, impatience clear in his gestures; the boy comes back to attention and recites his report without breathing once in between.
"We found a ship docked on the beach this morning and Robert counted at least seven men on land and it doesn't look like they have guns of any kind and they look like they're starving and the ship is badly damaged and Bill said you would want to know about it." After finishing this, the boy draws in a shuddering gasp and salutes Jack with his spear. Jack frowns at this new development, carefully running over the implications of the event.
"What kind of ship is it?"
The boy blinks owlishly and shakes his head nervously, "I don't know Chief, neither Robert nor Bill said." Jack closes his eyes in irritation, it's been close to three years and half of his hunters still didn't know how to make a complete report; it was pathetic.
"Lead the way there."
The boy bobbles his head, salutes with his spear again, and turns around to briskly retrace the path he'd taken to Castle Rock from his previous location. It takes them two to three minutes to find the rest of the party; Maurice tells Jack that Bill and Robert had sent them away to avoid discovery by the newcomers before pointing in the direction the two senior hunters were located. The redhead slips through the undergrowth, appearing at Robert's shoulder with barely a sound; the stocky blond starts, relaxes, and directs Jack's eyes to the activity he had been watching for a good while now.
The redhead immediately registers that the ship is in very bad condition; there are obvious signs of damage all along the hull of the vessel and the craft itself was lulling in the shallow water near the beach, looking like it would have sunk at any given moment if it were out in the open ocean. She must have been drifting for a good while because her crew is so desperate for food that some of them have forgone even foraging for something edible and are chewing on leaves and strips of bark. Jack wrinkles his nose in both disgust and annoyance; goodness knew how much those intruders would eat. He doesn't like the idea of having to share anything on the island with these newcomers. Bill moves next to him, eyes fixed on a still figure lying on the sand.
"What do you want us to do, Chief?" Jack shakes his head; as of right now, the surviving crew members stumbling around on the beach are too weak to pose a threat to them. He doesn't want to waste the energy and risk unnecessary injury attacking people who might die on their own anyway. The only complication was the ship; depending on its origins, they could be dealing with either trained fighters or pampered puppies, but the vessel is so badly ruined, Jack can't glean any information from this distance. The three hunters withdraw from the scene silently and join up with the main group; the party makes its way back to Castle Rock before Jack draws them into a circle around him to give orders. They're going to alert the entire tribe to the presence of the newcomers and keep a constant eye on them; if there are changes, Jack has to know about them. Once done, he dismisses the hunters and goes to find Roger; the brunette is scraping the fat off of the hide of a pig he'd skinned recently, using up the energy usually channelled into hunting and killing. The bruises on his cheek and chest are starting to turn purple and if nothing else, added to the already terrifying image Roger projected to the rest of the tribe.
"Jack." Of his entire tribe, only Roger had retained the privilege of calling Jack by name without using his title. Even then, the sadistic teen hardly ever used it, only dropping all etiquette when he sensed the ginger had sought him out for a specific reason. Now was one of those rare occurrences; Roger can feel the tense atmosphere that had followed Jack and he pauses what he is doing to fix dark eyes at his chief, "Speak. I'm listening."
Jack settles next to his friend, pulling out his knife to sharpen his spear, "Are you good with puzzles?"
The brunette pulls his eyebrows in towards each other in an unusual display of emotion, "Puzzles?"
Jack makes an impatient gesture with his hands, "Yes, as in can you put together pieces of information into a logical order?" His second in command shrugs, returning to his previous job.
"Yes and no, depends on what I have to work with."
The blue eyes gleam at this answer and the ginger gets to his feet again. Roger just catches his chief's parting words, "Then I'll see you at midnight in full paint."
Was that too sudden? Ugh, I have no confidence when it comes to writing *frustrated muttering*.