For Hanarobi!

[claudia603]

Some time back in January, I put in an offer to help_haiti that I would write fan fiction, and there were some good bidders, but baranduin won the bid! Being the good friend that she is, she requested that I write a Sentinel fic for hanarobi. I happened to have a bunny already in mind, although I picked hanarobi's mind for a few more elements she liked in Sentinel fan fiction.

Let's face it, I'm an AU girl all the way and I present to you, H.:

Title: The Jaguar Statue, part 1
Pairing: Blair/Jim (soon although not yet)
Rating: will vary, but assume Adult in places
Summary: A miniature statue of a jaguar haunts Blair in his peaceful, idyllic village. TOTALLY AU. I don’t even pretend to not nod to typical fantasy genre and I don’t even pretend to not make Jim a Ranger. I mean, he is a Ranger, of course, but you know what I mean…:)



The setting sun left a breathtaking pattern in the western sky. Streaks of bright orange wove into delicate tendrils of rose-pink. To the south, darker more ominous clouds gathered, and occasionally, distant lightning flickered. The moist fragrance of humid air over harvested earth permeated the air. Cicadas hummed, frogs croaked, and fireflies blinked in the growing dusk. Most of the villagers had retreated to their thatched homes for their evening meals of hearty soup and bread before going to bed. The simple, farming folk of Wrenvale woke and slept with the sun.

All except for Blair Sandburg. He burned candles deep into the night. During harvest time, the late-late night was Blair’s only chance to read. He had piles of worn out, dusty scrolls, mostly handwritten versions of battles and history and mythology that his dear friend James the Ranger had brought him from various corners of the world.

On this particular night Blair settled in front of the fire to read. Man, Blair thought, what a long day. Every muscle hurt. His tunic was torn and dusty. His cotton shirt was filthy. He had helped his best friend Rafe with the harvest because some of Rafe’s usual help had been incapacitated by the latest lung sickness. Yes, Blair attempted to help Rafe, but attempted would be the key word here. Blair wasn’t much good when it came to physical labor, and his muscles were going to feel it tomorrow. He was smaller and slighter than most of his friends and frankly, he had been embarrassed by how unaccustomed he was to the sort of daily hard labor required on a farm.

So tired. Blair’s eyes fluttered closed. The gentle, crackling heat from the hearth was really too much on a sultry night like tonight, but he was too bone-deep tired to get up and put out the fire. The scrolls lay unread in his lap.

A terrible banging on his front door startled Blair to his feet. The scrolls scattered everywhere.

He jumped to his feet, irritated at himself for being rattled. “Who is it?” he called.

“It’s Rafe! They’re coming! Christ, let me in!” It was indeed Rafe, but his voice was ragged, filled with terror. A terrible chill pierced through Blair. He ran to the front door and yanked it open.

He stumbled backward in shock. Blood covered the front of Rafe’s tunic - he was pale and wet – oh fuck, all that blood!

“Rafe, what--” Blair’s lips felt numb.

“We have to leave – right now!” Rafe’s hands shook as he brushed his hair out of his face with a blood-soaked hand.

“What’s happened to you?” Blair cried. “All that blood--”

Rafe grimaced, struggling to take in breaths. “They’re coming - grab a change of clothes.” He glanced over his shoulder. “No, don’t bother. Just get the statue of the cat.”

Blair startled at that last. “How did you know-?”

The much taller Rafe grabbed the front of Blair’s tunic. “If you want to live, get the fucking statue and let’s go.” He licked his lips. “If it’s not too late.” Then he muttered, “I’m sorry, man. I’m so sorry. I led them here.”

Blair was frightened down to the core. Rafe, hurt and bleeding from some nameless danger. The wild look in his eyes where there was almost always calm. Must be something to do with Blair’s Ranger friend Jim’s travels to outlandish lands with rainforests and wild animals and colorful parrots. But what the fuck was with the statue? Jim had told him he had bought it at some tourist stand in Isla Chauganala. Just some little trinket from an exotic land, a statue of a black jaguar with golden eyes that seemed to stare at Blair no matter where he was until it creeped him out badly enough that he put it away out of sight. And now Rafe was hurt and something dark and awful was coming -- Rafe stumbled to Blair’s kitchen, and Blair heard him grabbing things, shoving them into a bag.

Blair opened the trunk in the back room and grabbed the bamboo box in which lay the statue. He opened it and clutched the statue in one fist.

“I’m ready,” he said, swallowing against the waves of terror, “we can head out over your fields, but I gotta know what’s after us.”

“Masked soldiers from far away. They’re fucking ruthless, tracking me even now. I couldn’t help it. They can smell blood and I dripped blood all over the place. We’ve gotta be careful. They’re after you. They thought you were living at my place. We have to get out of here.”

“You’re badly hurt, Rafe. We have to take care of you.”

“We’ll take care of me when we’re out of their way.” Rafe said. “Now let’s go.”

Blair and Rafe crept outside. Blair’s heart beat wildly - The surrounding woods were ominous and hid unseen horror. Thunder rumbled and a flash of brilliant lightning lit the yard.

Rafe yanked Blair behind the hedge. “Don’t move,” he mouthed.

Blair heard terrible booted footsteps and harsh, barked orders.

“This is it,” a low, rough voice said. “That simpleton’s blood is all over out here. Should have slain him outright.”

Blair gripped the jaguar statue tightly in his hands. He heard the soldiers crashing about, kicking open the door to his house - he had a terrible fear that the neighbors would be awakened and get hurt by these ruthless men. He knew very few soldiers, except for one. His friend Jim. And he was more a free-style Ranger, not the following orders kind. A pang of regret took Blair’s heart when he thought about Jim. When the incident of the scrolls became public, Jim had been so angry with him, and then Blair had been so ashamed that he had left without saying goodbye, and now Blair had not seen Jim in nearly a year.

But still he knew that he and Rafe could seek Jim out for help and Jim would gladly help them. Jim was a tracker and a warrior and a loyal friend. All these thoughts rushed through Blair as crashing and the sounds of glass breaking came from his home. Boots clumped close and for a hair-breath of a second, Blair was certain that they would be discovered. He dared not utter a breath. He dared not meet Rafe’s terrified expression. If they shifted, rattled the hedge just a little, they would be pulled out and hurt bad, possibly worse.

Finally, after what felt like twenty hours but was more like twenty minutes or even ten minutes, Blair heard. “He’s not here! The simpleton was a filthy liar. This other one doesn’t have it. Unless he got to him first. They may not be far. Search the woods!”

“Doubt it. That simpleton was a big oaf, but he’s lost a lot of blood. No doubt he’s dying somewhere on the road.”

The heavy boots retreated, but still Blair and Rafe did not dare move for many more minutes. Blair could all too easily envision one of them being left behind to guard, as a decoy of silence, waiting for Blair and Rafe to pop out from their hiding place.

After a time, they both began to relax, and Blair whispered, “We‘ll go to Fallowbay,” Blair whispered. “I have a friend there. He’ll help us. How is your wound?”

Rafe nodded. “I’ve stopped the bleeding. It will have to do.”

“Infection,” Blair breathed. “We need to wash it off at least.”

“We don’t have time to wait,” Rafe said. “I’ll live. We’ll deal with it. Later.”

Blair’s heart sank at the disjointed way Rafe was speaking, as if he had been so utterly frightened, deep down in his core, so that he might never be the same again.

“At least will you tell me what happened, man?”

“No. And we can’t talk on the road. We need to be absolutely silent, starting right now. Not a word.”

They bent over and ran, keeping themselves as low to the ground as possible until they made it through the hedge and took off across the yard. It was very dark. Rain had begun to fall heavily, and normally Blair would curse it, but the heavy mist disguised them from anyone who might be trying to see. They ran across the field, feeling like sitting ducks. No trees to guard them, no hills, no ditches even. They ran until they reached the black edge of the woods. Once under the protection of the trees, they paused to rest. Blair had a stitch in his side.

“Shit, shit,” Blair said, wiping his brow. “What happened back there, man?”

Rafe grabbed Blair’s shoulder. “We can’t stop anywhere, we can’t talk to anyone. If we hear anyone on the road, we have to get off. We’ll sleep only buried deep under shrubs. We won’t stop for anything.”

Rafe had truly gone through something horrible to be talking like this. And all the blood! Blair’s heart ached with worry. He did not know how badly Rafe was hurt.

Blair balled his fists. He was chilled and the road seemed long and dark. He kept looking behind him. The battering rain was a fine disguise, but it also disguised the sound of pursuit. They walked swiftly along the path, constantly looking over their shoulders, stopping sometimes just to listen. The path was nearly impossible to see in the dark. Their eyes had adjusted enough only to keep them on the narrow path but not enough to keep them from stumbling over roots and rocks that were lodged in the dirt.

Only as the sun began to rise - Rafe signaled for them to leave the path and take cover behind a log.

“We’ll pull these boughs that fell in the storm over us.”

“Rafe-”

“I mean it, no talking. You don’t fucking want them to find us. You do not want -” His jaw was clenched and he seemed miles away, lost in some faraway horror. “Their eyes.”

“Let’s get some rest then,” Blair said. “And we’ll clean your wound. I’m going to insist on that.”

They crouched behind the log. Rafe showed his wound to Blair. Blair tried not to flinch. It looked as though he had been beaten severely.

“Oh, shit, Rafe,” Blair breathed in horror.

“They’d have done a lot worse if I hadn’t gotten away.”

“I know where we can go. I have this friend--”

“Oh, no,” Rafe said, shaking his head with sudden understanding. “Not Jim. No fucking way. He’s a ruffian, a crook, just trouble.”

“Jim’s not a bad sort, not really. He’s misunderstood. He’s really a good man. Just rough around the edges. He’ll help us. He’ll know how to sort this out.”

“You only say this because he hasn’t robbed you or slit your throat yet.” Rafe groaned.

“Hey, man, he’s our only chance. He knows the roads in the wild. He knows how to track and to hunt. Without him, we’re just two idiots at the mercy of them, whoever they are.”

Rafe grimaced. “Speak for yourself. I’m no idiot.”

Blair had been so frightened for so long that he had eaten nothing, and his stomach gave a grumble. He felt guilty. Poor Rafe had been injured because of him and this statue.

“Rafe.” Blair handed him an apple. “Come on, eat something.”

Rafe shook his head. “I can’t. I’ll eat a whole feast when we reach,” he sighed, resigned, and rolled his eyes. “All right. Do we have to pass through any main roads to get to your dear friend Jim’s place?”

“I know a secret way,” Blair said. “Jim taught me a long time ago.”

“Secret ways, huh,” Rafe said. “That’s probably what started this in the—”

A low growl cut Rafe off, and he grabbed Blair’s arm. There were bears in these woods, but Blair had never seen any venture into their village.

The two men stayed perfectly still and silent, peering through slits in the boughs. Blair had to admit that Rafe’s idea of a hiding place was excellent. They were thoroughly disguised.

There was a growl, and this time Blair caught yellow eyes. The bear had sniffed them out. Blair looked around for a weapon to fight off the bear if necessary. Shit, he had never fought off a kitten, much less a bear. Then a black shape slunk into the clearing with another loud growl.

The animal was no bear. An enormous black jaguar twitched its tail and looked right at Blair and Rafe’s hiding place. Then the predator settled down, lying down on his side, tail still twitching, golden eyes still alert.


TBC