I don't own Joxer, but I do own Jhat. Joxer belongs to Renaissance Pictures, and I didn't make any money off of this story. I just wrote it for fun. I hope you like the story.
--How I Met Joxer the Mighty, By Jhat Khevian--
One day, I was walking down a road,
And I happened on a rather odd man.
He wore pot lids and skillets on his back,
And looked like a fool without a tan.
He looked cheerful still, stumbling once
Even I could tell he was a good soul.
I approached him a little carefully,
Then promptly stumbled in a pothole.
He helped me up with a silly grin
This young man with a gentle heart.
I couldn't tell why he'd want the life
Of a warrior with a bloody sword.
He said his name was Joxer the Mighty,
By his face, I saw he fit the part
He even seemed to welcome trouble
A whole lot more than a man can afford.
He told me of his life on the road,
How he helped his friends through thick and thin
I listened while he bragged a bit,
Wanting to see the man within.
He admitted that he bragged a bit,
Which I hadn't doubted from the start.
But walking with him, I could see
That he indeed had a warrior's heart.
It's strange where you find people
Who are so much more than they seem
I guess we kind of adopted each other
And by the firelight, I let myself dream.
Jhat could feel someone's eyes looking over her shoulder, looking at her work with a curious eye. The girl resisted the impulse to shove at the face which, she was positive, was looking over her right shoulder.
"Whatcha writing?" The voice was a whisper that tickled her ear. She clapped her hand over the ear, and turned around to glare at the unwanted reader.
"Joxer, I'm a little busy right now. And can you please *stop* whispering into my ear? It tickles."
"I thought you wanted me to whisper!" Joxer protested, frustrated.
"Not into my ear." Jhat corrected. She turned back around to the scroll she was writing on, and leaned back against the tree trunk.
"Anyway, dinner's ready."
Jhat grunted in acknowledgement. Joxer looked at her with a mildly peeved look on his face. "Ahem. Dinner's *ready*."
"Yes," Jhat looked up, a dark frown on her face. "I heard you the first time. I'm *not* deaf."
"You certainly act like it sometimes. Are you writing a story?"
Jhat shook her head no. "I get writer's block when I try to write stories. I'm writing poetry."
"Really?" Joxer's eyebrows raised. "What kind are you writing?"
"Narrative." Seeing Joxer's still-curious gaze, Jhat elaborated. "I'm telling a story."
"Oh." Joxer looked mildly impressed. "Then why not just write a story?"
"With poetry, it's short, sweet and to the point. With stories, you never know how much you have to get into detail with it, so it's kind of easy for me to get lost."
Joxer nodded, not understanding, but not wanting to push the subject because of the dark look on Jhat's face. "All right then.... what are you writing poetry about?"
"Well, this particular one was about how we first met."
"Really? Can I see?"
"Are your hands clean?" Jhat's eyebrow rose.
"Yeah." Joxer answered after wiping his hands off with a rag. Jhat reluctantly relinquished the scroll over to the lanky swordsman. He opened up the scroll as Jhat took some food from the pan on the fire.
"'One day, I was-" Joxer began.
"Whoa, wait a minute." Jhat interrupted before he could finish the first line. "Are you going to be reading the whole poem out loud?"
"Yeah." Joxer looked a little confused at Jhat's embarrassed face. "I normally read like that."
"Oh." Jhat still looked a little embarrassed, and took a bite of her food in silence. "Okay."
"You don't like hearing your poetry?"
Jhat blushed. "I dunno. I guess I get a little uncomfortable when people read it out loud. I haven't let anyone read it before today, so I guess I'm not used to hearing them."
"You trust me that much?" Joxer felt touched. Jhat was very quiet for a child, which had surprised him. Now, allowing him to read her thoughts made him feel like he was asked to keep a secret.
"Well, you asked to read it." Jhat shrugged, staring into the campfire as she munched on her food.
"You didn't have to let me read it."
Jhat shrugged again. "I thought you were going to read it."
"All right, I will." Joxer looked back to the scroll and started again, "'One day, I was walking down a road..."
Jhat tuned out the rest of the poem as she concentrated on the fire. Allowing the fire to bake the skin of her face slowly, she was able to say that her face was red because of the fire instead of embarrassment. She perked up her ears to listen as she sat back and finished her meal, catching the last stanza of the poem.
"'It's strange where you find people
Who are so much more than they seem
I guess we kind of adopted each other
And by the firelight, I let myself dream.'"
Joxer looked up from the scroll, and looked at Jhat carefully. The girl could feel her face continue to burn as the lanky swordsman continued his relentless scrutiny of the quiet poet before him.
Jhat coughed uncomfortably, turning to Joxer. "So, what'd ya think?"
After a long moment, Joxer nodded slowly and rolled up the scroll for her to take back. "It was really good. Of course, I wasn't bragging, but-"
"Yes, you were, and we both know it." Jhat corrected easily, taking the scroll and stuffing it in her pack. Her white feather quill was returned to the thin, leather headband, tied on securely with the two other vividly painted feathers and beads.
"Why do you keep your quill on your headband?" Joxer asked curiously.
Jhat shrugged. "I don't want it to get crushed by everything else that's in my pack."
"You could always get another. Gabby has a pack that's just for her scrolls."
"Well, yes, there is that, but I don't want to have to carry around two packs. One pack is fine for me, and tying my quills to my headband is fine as well. I guess you could say it separates me from the rest of the bard population."
"Oh?" Joxer's eyebrows rose. Jhat always thought of Joxer as a little brother since she had first met him. The fact that his face was so innocent and he possessed a childlike enthusiasm made it hard for her to remember he was thirty.
The girl shrugged in response. "I like being individual, and not be classified as this kind of person who always acts this way. It gets really boring to have to listen to 'You're too young. Run home before you get hurt.'" She rolled her eyes in disgust, and then turned back to her metal-clad companion. "Are we headed anywhere in particular?"
Joxer shrugged and shook his head. "I guess we're just following the road, seeing where it takes us."
Jhat seemed to consider it for a minute and then nodded. "Okay. I'm getting some sleep. Wake me if we're in trouble."
Joxer nodded as she readjusted herself on the furs she was sitting on and lay down, facing away from the fire. As her breathing became easier, Joxer looked her over.
Jhat had always been an odd, scrawny girl from day one. Her silver hair was short-cropped, and it was easy to mistake her for a boy, which Joxer remembered with a slight flush that he had done the same thing. Her eyes were a startling bright green, reminding him immediately of Gabrielle, the bard who traveled with Xena. Her choice in clothes consisted of three words: colorful, comfortable, and layered.
Now, she was wearing a shirt with bright green and yellow scarves tied to it, leaving the ends of them free to float about when she moved her arms and torso. Though, with all the falling down she did, Joxer was surprised that the scarves weren't covered with grass stains. With the bright colors, it was easy to get distracted, as the bandits had when he had first met her.
There were quite a few of them, about four, and they had suddenly jumped on them a few minutes after the two had met. When she saw them, Joxer was amazed to see Jhat pull out a scroll, glance over its contents quickly, and use it to club one of the bandits over the head. Dodging and swinging, Jhat managed to get another one down before the third ruffian had her by her throat. For a split second, the girl had looked Joxer straight in the eye, and he suddenly on the last two, punching and kicking a little wildly until the two were down.
Jhat had agreed to walk with him for a little while, but she had never specified what "a little while" actually meant. As he thought about the poem again, as well as the young poet, the clumsy young man smiled.. The girl reminded him of himself when he was fifteen, but he could tell she was a lot wiser. He took the scroll carefully from Jhat's pack and removed a quill carefully from her headband. Finding a vial of ink with the scrolls, Joxer dipped the quill in once and wrote on the scroll slowly.
We'll walked many roads before we're done,
I'm sure the adventures will never end.
But I'm glad I bumped into you
And honored to call you my friend.
Joxer looked over his handiwork, then back to Jhat. Smiling a little, he put away the scroll and quill, crawling under his bundle of furs, and then falling asleep.
THE END
- Back -
