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Unfinished Tarzan Trowa	By : Maureen Category: Gundam Wing/AC > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 1158 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing/AC, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Unfinished Tarzan Trowa
- 2-The beginning of the fic it might have been...
- 1
- 2
Untitled fic in progress 1

Pairings: 3x4, 1x2

Disclaimers: Not mine � not the Tarzan concept, or
the characters from Gundam Wing.

Note: I�ve no title for this yet, and if you give me
one, heck, I�ll write a chapter for you�

'what
is that smell, Lady Malkia?'

'man's
fire, Ngina.' The queen of the pride told her second.

'it
smells of ruined meat, Lady.' The younger lioness rubbed at her nose and whined
lightly at the harsh smoke.

'something
there still lives, attend me.' And with that, Malkia leapt from her hiding place
in the deep savannah grasses and ran towards the wreckage below.

Ngina
followed and the lionesses searched through the mangled, smoldering wreckage of
the man-machine. They gingerly stepped through twisted bits of metal and
disdainfully turned their sensitive feline noses from the stench of burning
flesh. Several men were caught in the carnage, so twisted that one body was not
distinguishable from another. A small sound, like the whimpering of a wounded
bird eventually made itself known.

'here,
Lady. a cub still lives, hardly enough for a mouthful.' Ngina gingerly turned
the gurgling infant with one large paw, claws sheathed.

'do
not harm him, I claim him.' Malkia nosed the tiny flailing hands, blinking her
large golden eyes in surprise when his green ones stared steadily back at her.
'he would have made his mother a fine son, but now he will do the same for me.'

'son!'
growled Ngina in horror. 'he is not a fur-cub, Lady! Kimoni will not allow you
to keep him'

'I
will deal with my mate! the child is mine, and none will argue!' Malkia roared,
sending flocks of birds racing upwards from the grassy ground. 'unless you feel
it is your time to challenge me, Ngina. do you think you are ready to be Queen
of the pride?'

'no
Lady!' the lesser lioness bowed low before her Queen. 'how will you feed him?'

'Aisha
is still heavy with milk, she will suckle my son.' And the Malkia gently opened
her large jaw to cradle her new found cub for the journey back to the pride's
den.

Kimoni,
the King of the pride, was as angered as Ngina had predicted. His mighty roars
of fury echoed across the grassland for much of the night, but by morning he had
reluctantly given into his Queen. Since their only cub had been killed during
the last rainy season, Malkia had been quiet and withdrawn. And although Kimoni
suspected that the furless cub would die before the summer's end, he could not
refuse her this bit of happiness. 'what will you call him?' he asked after he
finally relented.

'my
son's name is Trowa.' And with that, the young human became a member of the
pride.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Some
17 years later�

Trowa
did not die that first summer, nor in any that followed. Against all reason, he
grew healthy and strong. Still, as the cycle of grasses progressed in its
inevitable way, Malkia began to fret over her adopted son. Most male cubs left
the pride to make their own lives after three or four rainy seasons had passed,
but her fur-less son took much longer to mature. For a time, it seemed that
Trowa would remain among them forever, but as his shoulders broadened and his
roar deepened, Malkia knew that he must surely find a mate of his own kind.

Trowa
was contented enough for all her worries. He was a favorite of each new litter,
coddling the cubs before they could walk and wrestling with them as they grew.
The lionesses respected his skill in the hunt for Trowa had a silence about him
that allowed him to walk among herds of prey beast undetected until he had made
his kill. Even Kimoni came to love his strange, smooth son; most especially
because he knew Trowa would never challenge him for leadership of the pride.

However,
around the end of his thirteenth year, Trowa began to feel a strange loneliness,
a sense of somehow being incomplete. He knew that when the other male cubs
started to lose their childhood spots and stretch towards their adult
proportions, they began sniffing the winds, searching for new directions to
roam. In secret, Trowa began sampling the air, but never encountered a scent
that called him from the pride. But for the first time, he wondered why he was
not like the rest of his family. He slowly felt himself drifting apart from his
family, although he still frolicked and hunted among them. More and more as they
lay nestled together at night, Trowa would feel stifled by the warmth of their
fur and the heat of their breath. And increasingly, the morning's sun would find
him perched above them, watching the plains and wondering if there was anyone
out there who could ease the growing dissatisfaction in his heart.

One
such morning, Malkia awoke before the dawn to see the silhouette of her
best-loved cub, as he sat watchful on a high rock, nose sampling the air. She
carefully rolled away from her mate and joined Trowa to survey their territory
below. 'so you finally smell them, my son.' She said as he wound a
distracted arm around her neck and leaned heavily against her side.

'smell
what, mother? I have never found a scent like that on the morning breeze
before.' Trowa's nose flared as the wind strengthened, bringing more
of the strangely intoxicating aroma with it.

'others
of your kind, my son� other men.' She sighed gustily as she buried
her muzzle in his trailing, sun-streaked mane. Knowing it was time to stop
avoiding the inevitable, she asked, 'would you like to see them?'

Trowa
was usually the most sensitive to all of their moods, but he did not notice his
mother's melancholy in his excitement. 'yes! can we go now? please?' and
he was down from the rock and heading in the wind's direction before she could
answer. As they ran through the grasses soaked in pre-dawn dew, she marveled at
how well he had grown, and how strong he had become. And she hoped that one
among the intruders would prove a worthy mate for him, for like all mothers, she
placed greater weight with her son's happiness than her sorrow over losing him.
They silently approached the strange cloth dens that the men had erected on the
plain and hunkered down in the concealing meadow to watch.

No
one stirred in the man camp until the sun had pulled itself well into the sky
with red fingers. Malkia's more discriminating nose had already identified two
females, three males, and a juvenile close to Trowa's own age. One of the
younger males emerged from his burrow first, he had a strange tail hanging from
the back of his head that she wanted to catch in her claws and investigate, her
paws twitched at the thought. He was quite noisy, and the others soon awakened
and joined him around the man-fire he created. Malkia was especially attentive
to the females; one was smaller and rounder and stank like bitter grasses, while
the other moved with soft grace and had hair the color of Malkia's own coat. She
nudged her son, wanting to draw his interest to the finer of the pair, but he
was already hopelessly riveted elsewhere.

While
she had been watching the females, the juvenile had joined the group, and it was
this youth that held Trowa's gaze. Malkia eyed him critically; he was scrawnier
than his companions, colorless even in the morning sun's warming glow, his head
covered with a downy fur paler than the belly of any newborn cub. The others
seemed almost protective of him, the tailed male taking special care to present
him with food. Beside her, Trowa quietly exhaled, 'beautiful�' and she knew
that for better or worse, her son was lost. For a moment, she considered telling
him that he would get no cubs with that one, but then thought it was perhaps
just as well that there would be no more furless babes for her pride to raise.
But would this human return her son's attentions? Even as she wondered, the
juvenile raised his head and glanced thoughtfully all around, before finally
settling his gaze in the direction they rested. He took a few hesitant steps
towards them, before he was called back by the other young male, a fierce black
maned beast. Malkia puffed out a heavy breath and after nuzzling the back of
Trowa's neck in goodbye, left him alone to claim his mate.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Quatre!
Do not stray too far from camp."

"But
there's someone out there�" Quatre started to protest, but was quickly
cut off by his father.

"Quatre,
do as Heero tells you. He and Duo have enough to do without hunting for you
should you wander off and get lost." Hiram Winner was a tall, gruff man,
broad and hard in ways his son would never be.

"Yes,
Father." Quatre sat back down at the fireside and tried not to pout as he
drank his morning tea. He knew that there was someone watching them, but
he was used to being discounted.

"Buck
up, kid!" Duo plopped down next to him on the log and threw a companionable
arm around his shoulder. "We'll find some fun for you yet." Quatre
glanced sidelong at his seatmate, wondering for perhaps the thousandth time how
the other could be so perky despite the hour. Duo was a complicated puzzle,
almost obnoxiously cheerful and simple on the surface, but hiding shifting
layers of complexity underneath. He and his mostly silent lover, Heero, had been
a part of the Winner Production team for almost ten years, but still the family
knew little more about them than their names. "Hey, did I tell you the
latest from the locals?" It never failed, no matter what corner of the
world they traveled to Duo always was able to smooze information from the
indigenous inhabitants; many an award-winning documentary would have been
impossible without the facts willingly supplied to the braided man. "They
say there's a wild man that lives with the pack of lions that your sister's here
to study�"

"Pride
of lions, Duo, not a pack. Dogs run in packs, and that's Fatima's
specialty." Iria gently corrected.

"Pride,
pack, herds, gaggles, groups� whatever. The point is there's some sexy Tarzan
dude runnin' around out there - I'm just trying to cheer the kid up!" Duo
gave Quatre's shoulders a little squeeze.

Fatima,
surly as always, demanded, "Why would some silly legend about a wild man do
anything for Quatre?"

'Oblivious'
mouthed Heero from his spot by Hiram, where they were pouring over possible
locations for the day's filming.

"Head
totally up her ass!" Duo agreed out loud and sputtered as Quatre elbowed
him hard in the gut. "Oh, right, sorry, kid." He whispered before
joining the other men in the planning.

Quatre
swept his gaze back over the surrounding sea of grass, unable to dispel the
feeling of being watched. A small shiver of excitement raced up his spine, he
could almost feel himself being caressed by the observing eyes. He wondered if
the tale could possibly be true, but was soon distracted by Iria. "Did
everyone review the behavior notes I typed up? I want you all to be especially
watchfully for any mating displays - no one's ever caught the whole process on
film before, and I want to prove that there's actually some tender interaction
between the bouts of coitus."

"Did
we bring enough tape for a four day bang-a-thon?" Duo interrupted.
"And I thought Heero had stamina�"

"Don't talk that kind of filth in front of my little brother!"
sputtered Fatima.

"Oh,
yeah, I forgot, Fats. We don't want to mention S-E-X in front of the kid
here!" Duo was immediately on his feet and in Fatima's face. He and Heero's
relationship was a constant source of contention with Fatima, and she was never
shy about letting her disapproval show. She only came to Duo's shoulders, but
she outweighed him by at least thirty pounds, and she used that fact to try and
intimidate him; placing her hands on her hips to intimidatingly magnify her
girth.

"Don't
call me "Fats!"" she screeched, and vainly tried to pull at his
braid.

"Don't
piss me off, sister, or the next time a caravan of Bedouins wants to buy your
rotund rear, I won't even bother to haggle!" Duo sneered as he danced out
of her reach. "Grow up, babe, your "little brother" is 16, I'm
sure he knows exactly what Heero and I�"

"Enough!"
Boomed Hiram, and separated the bickering pair by grabbing each of their
collars. "I, too, am sure that my young and impressionable son knows of
your activities, however, none of us needs a play by play description!" He
turned his attention to Fatima, catching her in the act of blowing a raspberry
at Duo, "And you, young lady - try and show a bit more restraint!"

"But
Father!" Fatima protested, while Duo mimicked her behind Hiram's back.
"He started it!"

Quatre
slipped quietly away from the campsite as the squabbling continued. After only a
few feet, he was entirely swallowed by the towering grasses, and the sound of
the arguing was nicely muffled. "Hello?" he called quietly, feeling
only the slightest bit foolish for doing so, "Hello, is anyone out there? I
know you are, will you come out where I can see you, please?" Nervously, he
reached out for a blade of the swaying grass and wove it between his fingers. A
few long moments passed with no reply, and Quatre turned to head back to the
fireside. Some strange impulse grabbed him, however, and he whispered before he
went, "Come and take me away from this, please!"

Had
he looked just a little harder, he might have seen a pair of eyes greener than
the grasses tracking his every move.
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Unfinished Tarzan Trowa