Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE

Margot had woken in the strange man's treehouse utterly calm, the sight of her surroundings almost comforting compared to her recent experiences, first regaining her senses after being abducted by the Raxxians, and then again recovering from a concussion after crashing on an alien world.

Next to those events, this was downright relaxing.

She rolled over, stretching long, her body still sore from the prior day's exceptionally vigorous activities. She'd fled for her life, using muscles she didn't even know she had, and pushing harder than she'd ever have imagined possible. But then life or death situations tended to be one hell of a motivating force. Now, however, she was paying the price. A small one she was happy to pay, given the raw, violent carnage she'd seen the monster unleash upon the Raxxians.

Movement caught her eye.

He was there, crouching comfortably, watching her as she woke. His eyes were even more beautiful in the morning light.

Wait, where's the light coming from?

She looked around and realized that while the sides and floor were buttoned up tight, he had apparently propped up the roof in a few areas, the cantilevered design of the wood allowing both airflow and sunlight to bathe his treetop home without revealing it to the world below. It was quite clever, she had to admit, not to mention adding even more to her sense of security. The brutal Raxxians would not find her up here. At least, she was pretty sure they wouldn't.

Now that she'd rested properly and had both fresh eyes and mind, Margot was able to better look at her unlikely host. As she'd noted when he had been distractingly nude in front of her, he was hairless so far as she could tell, except for the dark locks hanging from his head. Hair, she noted, that he had brushed out a bit and tied into a short, loose ponytail to keep it out of his face.

His jaw was strong, his cheekbones pronounced, and his brows only added to the piercing gaze of those copper and silver-gray ringed eyes. As for the rest of him, he was clothed in the same ratty attire he'd been carrying yesterday, the fabric now dry enough to wear. By the look of the place, as well as the patches in his tunic and trousers, he didn't have many, if any, other changes of clothes. But he clearly maintained what he had with care, stitching up holes and tears as best he could. Even so, she thought he could really, really use some new threads.

"Thank you for last night. You saved me back there. I don't know what I'd have done if I hadn't met you."

His cheeks blushed in the most charmingly shy way, some sort of reply flowing from his lips in his sing-song language, though she couldn't understand a word of it. The gist, however, was pretty clear. Something along the lines of, "It was nothing," or, "I was just helping." Modesty, in other words.

"So, you understand me, but I can't understand you, is that about the gist of it?" she asked.

He said something and shrugged.

"Yeah, easy for you to say," she quipped. "But it beats, ‘ Me Tarzan , y ou Jane ,' I suppose."

His brow arched quizzically.

"Sorry. Earth reference."

"Rrrthh?" he said, forcing himself to speak what she said rather than his own language as the translation thingy behind his ear would make her words sound.

"Yeah, Earth. Hey, how can you hear my real words? I'm still totally new to this, but I thought that thing was supposed to translate everything in real-time."

He shrugged again, another stream of unintelligible nonsense flowing from his lips.

"Okay, I get it. You don't know how you do it, you just do, is that it?"

He nodded, a bright smile spreading on his face, making her heart go pitter patter with its intense warmth. He may have been a wild mountain man, but his bearing did not match his appearance. At least, not entirely. Visually, he looked wild and unkempt, but she had come to know in just this short time that he was actually simultaneously rough yet refined.

As for his home, now that she could see it in daylight, it was rather spartan, as one would expect of someone living so far off the grid, but it was immaculately clean. On top of that, this confusing man had built a series of storage units into the very walls of the structure, each of them closing up tight to keep the place clutter-free.

She'd already seen where he stored food, and he had extra blankets and ponchos woven out of some sort of native grasses and fibers in another. But there were still a couple of others, including one he'd left open that contained what she assumed were his prized possessions judging by the beauty of what she caught a glimpse of. Jewelry, mostly, and a few other items of whose purpose she had no idea. But that was life on an alien planet, she realized.

There were no chimpanzees, but this really was feeling very much like an old movie in several ways. She scooted closer to him and tapped her chest.

"Speaking of Tarzan and Jane, my name is Margot. Mar-got."

"Mahr-gohh."

"Yes. And you?" she asked, placing her hand on his chest.

He jumped back a little at her touch.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to startle you. Do people not touch on your world?"

His cheeks flushed, and he shook his head, replying with what sounded like a bashful excuse. She'd simply taken him off-guard, was all. At least, that's what it sounded like he was saying. For such a manly specimen, he had some distinctly younger behaviors. But then, living in the wild, she figured he likely didn't interact with many other people.

He gently took her hand and pressed it to his chest. She could feel his heart beating hard, his heat radiant against her palm.

"Braxxos," he said. "Tarzan Jane Braxxos."

Margot laughed brightly. "Your name is Braxxos?"

"Braxxos," he said, nodding, a big grin on his face.

"Well, it really is a pleasure making your acquaintance, Braxxos. I like your place, you know. Did you build this all yourself?"

He nodded, gesturing to the joinery work.

"I can see it's really well constructed. But have you always lived out here alone?"

A darker flash spread across his face but only for a moment. Clearly, this was a more sensitive topic.

Shit. Stupid, Margot. Why'd you go and ask that? Way to make him feel self-conscious.

"What I meant was, I'm really impressed at all you've done here," she said, rising and quickly walking to the nearest storage unit, opening it and lifting up a woven poncho. "I mean, the way you designed and built this? And how you wove this all yourself? It's marvelous. And the way you make such good use of your space? It's very Marie Kondo of you."

"Konn-dohh?"

"Kondo. It won't translate, most likely, but what I mean is you keep a very tidy and flowing living space. And the things you do have here are all tasteful, and some are quite lovely."

She walked to his little stash of shiny things and picked up a particularly beautiful necklace with a futuristic pendant that looked almost like a signet of sorts, but in a very alien and high-tech sort of way. The pendant, however, reacted and flashed an angry red at her touch, waking from its slumber from the contact, it seemed.

Braxxos lunged across the space, snatching it from her hand, the odd device flickering in his grip, a brief flash of gold overriding the red for a split-second before the whole thing resumed its angry glow. He tossed it into the storage space and shut the door hard.

Margot realized her error immediately. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean any offense! I'm just new here, and I don't know the rules."

His glare faded almost at once. It seemed that this man couldn't stay upset even if he wanted to. Frankly, it was quite refreshing after a lifetime of human men. They could stand to learn a thing or two from this imposing alien mountain man. He had more civility despite his circumstances than most well-off bachelors back home. And, so far, he'd been a complete gentleman to boot.

"So, I guess a bit about me is in order, seeing as I'm staying in your place."

He chuckled at that, any last traces of annoyance washing away with that sparkling grin.

"Well, let's see. I'm from a place called Earth. No idea whatsoever where that is in relation to this planet. My kind haven't even made it past our own moon yet, so we're not exactly what you'd call a space-faring people."

Braxxos said something, a look of confusion on his face as he gestured around him.

"Ah. What am I doing on your planet if my people don't even have real spaceships. Yeah, about that. I was abducted."

He gazed at her with a look of sympathy, shock, and horror.

"Yeah, it sucked. And it only happened a couple of days ago. These big, green alien guys were the ones that took me."

If he'd looked shocked before, his face now expressed a new emotion as well. Hatred. Hatred, disgust, and something that looked almost like a deeply hidden thirst for violence.

"I see you know them. Raxxians, one of the other prisoners called them."

"Raxxians." He nodded in confirmation, then shook his head.

"Yeah, we agree on that. They are not good people, that's for sure. But to answer the question I know is hanging in the air, they're the reason I'm here. I don't know what happened, but I'd only just woken up on their ship when the whole thing blew apart and the section I was in somehow wound up here. I don't know how, exactly, though. I hit my head pretty hard, and it knocked me out. I woke up on the surface, but the others were gone."

Braxxos moved closer, concern in his eyes. He asked a question, the words still total gibberish, but his fingers gently probing her hair made the intent clear.

"Sure, you can take a look. It feels okay now. I think I—Ow!"

He stopped immediately, freezing in place.

"No, it's okay. It's just you found the bruise, is all. But there's no blood, right?"

He shook his head.

"Okay, good. Well, at least I've got that going for me, right? Minimal head trauma is at least better than severe head trauma."

He looked at her with a confused expression.

"It's a joke. On my world we call it gallows humor. Making light of a bad situation with humor to relieve the tension."

"Johhk," he repeated, an amused little grin on his lips as she subtly shook his head at her surprising display.

Apparently, diving head-first into humor despite the world going to shit had struck a funny chord with him. Given his living situation, she supposed it wasn't so uncommon a thing out here in the wild. But she wasn't about to delve into that with him. Not when they were still unable to properly talk. It was one thing having a conversation. It was quite another when it was this sort of very one-sided affair.

"Hey, I've got an idea. It'll be fun."

His eyes perked up with curiosity.

"I want you to teach me some words. What do you say?"

He said quite a lot, leaving her utterly baffled.

"Okay, I didn't mean literally . That was rhetorical, if that word translates. But seriously, teach me stuff. If I can't understand you without one of those ear thingies, at least I can start to learn to communicate the old-fashioned way. So, what do you think? You willing to give it a go?"

He studied her a long moment, gazing deep into her eyes, studying his most unusual guest.

"Fraghazi," he said with a confident nod.

"Uh, fraghazi ?"

"Fraghazi," he agreed with a chuckle, as if laughing at his own inside joke.

"Okay. Fraghazi it is. Now, are you gonna tell me what that means?"

She'd find out soon enough.