Educating Joxer
Act One
by Phil Hernández


COPYRIGHT NOTICE:
Xena: Warrior Princess, Xena, Gabrielle, Argo, Joxer and all other characters who have appeared in the series, together with the names, titles and backstory are the sole copyright property of MCA/Universal and Renaissance Pictures. No infringement of copyrights or trademarks is intended in the writing of this fan fiction. This story is copyright © 1998 by Philip D. Hernández and is his sole property along with the story idea. The characters of Agricola, Panea, Aralaus, Talthybius, Nemus and Tegan are his own creations. This story cannot be sold or used for profit in any way. Copies of this story may be made for private use only and must include all disclaimers and copyright notices.

Comments:
Unless your sole purpose is to bash Joxer/Ted Raimi, your comments would be greatly appreciated. You can e-mail the author at
broadway@tvi.cc.nm.us.

GENRES: Xena: Warrior Princess, action/adventure, romance, comedy.
VIOLENCE: Various bad guys and Joxer are beaten up. There are swordfights. Lives are threatened.
SEX: None.
LANGUAGE: Nothing stronger than "damn."
RATING: PG-13.
SUBTEXT:
Only the author knows for sure.
SPOILERS: Nothing significant.
NOTICE TO JOXERPHOBES: If you didn’t figure it out from the title, this story features Joxer the Mighty. Ha-HA!


DRAMATIS PERSONAE:
Xena, Warrior Princess
Gabrielle, Bard of Poteidaia, Queen of the Amazons, Xena’s best friend
Joxer the Mighty, erstwhile hero
Agricola, a farmer
Panea, Agricola’s wife
Aralaus, slimy warlord
Talthybius, Aralaus’s slimier lieutenant
Tegan, an innkeeper
Nemus, a young man, resident of Pyrgos
Argo, Xena’s wonder horse
Citizens of Pyrgos
The "regulars" at Tegan’s inn
Assorted trash, followers of Aralaus


ACT ONE


The sun was beginning to sink in the sky, as a farmer and his wife pulled their simple cart back home after a long but profitable day in town. They were nearly there, and would soon be able to stretch out and enjoy a bit of hoecake and some of the wine they had bought.

"Panea, I love you," the farmer said. "You are so wonderful."

"Ach, you," she replied. "Just because I keep you fed and help you plow and can weave a pretty piece of cloth, you think I’m wonderful."

"Well, that ‘pretty piece of cloth’ fetched a pretty price. And I didn’t hear anyone complaining about my cheeses, did you?"

"Your cheeses are always the best. How am I supposed to keep my girlish figure with such good cheese around? At least it will be good for the babies when they come."

"Aye, may Artemis and Hera bless us as Demeter already has."

The dark-haired farmer set his side of the cart down, Panea doing likewise, and he rolled his shoulders and extended powerful arms to work the kinks out of his muscles. He was still handsome, his long hours from before dawn to after sunset having not yet worn him down as it had so many farmers he knew. His wife, a large-framed brunette with a pretty oval face, tucked a few stray wisps of curly hair back into the light blue scarf she wore on her head.

The man peered down the road. He didn’t like the look of the olive grove ahead, though he had known it for years.

"Agricola, what’s wrong?" his wife asked. "Is there a storm coming?"

"I’m not sure. Something doesn’t feel right. It’s not a storm, though. The clouds aren’t dark enough. Ah, maybe I’m just tired from bargaining all day."

"Maybe. But let’s be careful," she replied. They lifted the cart’s poles again and cautiously continued down the road.

Agricola’s gut feeling was right. Four bandits emerged from the grove, scruffy yet still menacing in their appearance. The leader, a squint-eyed brute who hadn’t bathed since he got caught in a sudden rainshower six months before, walked up to Agricola, idly playing with a dagger. He thrust his broken nose in the farmer’s face.

"Back from market? Good. Then you can pay our 100 percent commission. Hand it over!"

"You can’t take our money! It’s what we live on!" Agricola protested.

"It’ll be what you die on if you don’t give it to us."

"Maybe we should kill the woman first," another bandit suggested.

"Kill her?" a third marveled. "You’re stupid! That’s not what you do with a woman! Afterwards, you kill her."

"Panea! No!" He fumbled for his pouch. "Take it all – take my life – but don’t hurt her!"

Incongruously, off-key whistling sounded behind the bandits. Then:

"Blood, valor and victory! Ha-HA!"

Joxer the Mighty burst upon the scene, tripping over a rock and barely keeping his balance. "Oops."

"What, another silly villager? Kill him," the leader said.

He and another bandit held the couple as the remaining two advanced on Joxer, weapons drawn.

"Hey, guys, can’t we just talk about this?" Joxer asked as he retreated, tripping on the same rock but somehow staying upright. "Stay back! I trained Xena!"

One of the bandits immediately swung at him, but only struck Joxer’s sword, which he was still raising. Joxer swung in turn, but so hard that he turned in a full circle, striking his second assailant on the side of the head with the flat of his sword. That man went down. Joxer bent to check his grip, and the first attacker, trying a head butt, got a mouth full of the top of Joxer’s helmet.

"Mmff! Mmff!" he tried to cry out as he attempted to extract the helmet, but only succeeded in pulling it off Joxer’s head.

"Ha-HA!" Joxer laughed as he tried to kick the unfortunate bandit, but instead fell backwards over the man he had knocked down. Still pulling at the helmet, the other man stumbled over Joxer and went sprawling. He hit his head on the rock Joxer had tripped on earlier. The helmet flew out of his mouth, along with a tooth or two, as he blacked out.

Joxer tried to get up but his other adversary, still groggy, pulled him down. Joxer’s scabbard caught the bandit in the groin, and he screamed in pain, rolling around on the ground clutching the injured area.

Getting up, Joxer saw the remaining brigands holding their weapons at Agricola’s and Panea’s throats. "Stay back," the leader warned, "or they die."

Joxer shook. What would Xena do? he thought. Of course! A mighty leap! So he launched himself into the air, but fell short. His hands caught hold of one of the cart’s wheels and he swung up and around, accidentally kicking both bandits in the face before he fell on his back with a "WHUMPF!" They fell, too.

Agricola scrambled to pick up the weapons nearest to him. Having no stomach for even odds, the leader and the other man Joxer had just knocked down got up and ran off.

"We’ll be back!" the leader taunted before he departed. "Next time you won’t be so lucky!"

In the meantime, Panea had taken some rope from the cart and was tying up the two remaining bandits, one unconscious and the other still howling over his injury. Her husband helped Joxer to his feet.

"You saved our lives. How can we ever repay you?" Agricola asked.

"Uh, maybe – OW! – you could help me straighten my back?"

The farmer reached around Joxer and lifted. With an audible crack, Joxer’s spine returned to normal.

"My name is Agricola," he said, and this is my wife, Panea."

"Pleased to meet you," Joxer replied. "I’m Joxer the Mighty, hero at large."

"We were on our way home when these ruffians showed up. You know the rest."

A young man came running up. "Agricola! You’re safe!" he shouted. "We just chased some bandits out of the village!"

Agricola pointed to the two trussed goons. "I know, Nemus. This fellow here," indicating Joxer, "fought four of them off."

"That was well done," Nemus replied. "I’ll go get help to haul these two in. But let’s find out who they belong to, first."

Panea took a skin full of water from the cart and splashed its contents onto the unconscious bandit to wake him. His partner had stopped howling and glared at his captors. "We’re not talking," he said.

"Talk now, or get tortured and talk later. It’s all one to me," Nemus said. He drew a dagger and started to finger it.

"Fine. We were part of Aralaus’ army. We figured, why should he get all the loot? Just skim a little off the top and there’d still be plenty for him. Then this geek," he meant Joxer, "comes along and spoils everything."

"How far away is Aralaus?" Agricola asked. "How many with him?"

"How in Tartarus should I know?" Nemus slowly brought his blade to the bandit’s face. "Three days, maybe!" the villain cried, frightened. "Fifty men, I think."

"We’ll need help," Nemus observed.

"I can help you," Joxer offered. "And Xena’s a close friend of mine. I was on my way to find her anyway. If you want, I’ll go get her. She hates warlords. Whether I find her or not, I’ll come back to fight this Aralaus."

"Then I’ll return to the village and tell them Xena may be coming," Nemus replied. He headed back.

"Joxer, you are our friend. Before you go, let’s get you cleaned up and give you something to eat. Our home is close by. Of course, we’ll wait until these scum are picked up."

"Scum! You’ll sing a different tune when Aralaus gets here!" the bandit snarled.


While they ate, Joxer cemented his friendship with Agricola and Panea. He told them a few tall tales about his exploits – actually, they were mostly Xena’s exploits – but somehow he sensed he didn’t need to impress them. His deeds had been enough, even if they weren’t as mighty as his stories made him out to be.

Panea successfully hid a laugh. She knew bragging when she heard it.

The meal over, Joxer set out to find his closest friends. He knew Xena and Gabrielle were somewhere in the area. Perhaps he would find them at Tegan’s inn, which wasn’t too far from here. He could get there and back in time if he hurried.

When night fell, though, he had not yet found them. He slept poorly, worried about the approaching army. Good gods, I promised them I’d take on a warlord, he realized. What made me think I was up to that? Well, I’m committed, now.

He continued toward the inn when dawn broke.


The lithe strawberry blonde astride the golden palomino was vehemently, if hoarsely, complaining to the tall warrior woman leading them along the road.

"Xena, if this warlord isn’t that big a deal, why are you going to leave me behind?" Gabrielle wanted to know. She sneezed.

"Because you’re not very fit to travel, and I may need to move quickly," the Warrior Princess replied. "I wish you could see yourself, Gabrielle. Sometimes you’re flushed, other times you’re pale. Your nose has been running, you can barely talk, and what you need is a day or two of bed rest. So, for the sixth time, I’m dropping you off at Tegan’s inn, okay?"

"Well, you don’t have to get upset about it," the bard said. She swayed slightly in the saddle, and Argo stepped gently so the young woman could right herself.

Xena’s voice softened. "I’m not upset with you, Gabrielle. I’d rather have you along. You’re my soul and my heart’s inspiration."

"All right, Xena. You win. I’ll stay in bed and wait for you."

It wasn’t long before a small cluster of familiar buildings came into sight. A large sign depicting a finch capering in the air above a Cretan bull hung over the door of the main building, which was Tegan’s inn. Attached to the inn were a cookhouse, stables, sheds and outhouses. The grounds appeared well kept, and the cheery aroma of home cooking soon reached the two travelers.

Upon arriving, they left Argo with the stable boy, then entered the inn, Gabrielle leaning heavily on her staff.

A chorus of shouts greeted them. "Xena! Gabrielle!"

"Hi, girls, what’s your pleasure?" the innkeeper asked. She was a buxom redhead of some thirty years, her figure intact despite the wear and tear of her business. Beneath the sleeves of her blouse one could still see the play of Amazon-trained muscles, though she had retired from adventuring, gotten married and later widowed some years before.

"Tegan, I’m going to need a room for Gabrielle," Xena answered. "She’s sick –"

"I am not! Ah-choo!"

"– And needs a couple of days in bed, then maybe some fresh air and," winking at her partner, "lots of food." Xena handed Tegan a pouch full of dinars. "This should cover everything, and if not I’ll make it up on the way back."

"No problem. Only the best for you, Gabrielle," Tegan replied. The regulars, who knew the two heroines well from previous visits, agreed. "Hey, have a meal on me while you’re here," the innkeeper continued.

"Oh, I couldn’t. I can pay for it," Xena said.

"You’ll do no such thing," Tegan told her. "That’s what happens when you go where everybody knows your name. And we’re always glad you came."


Still feeling good from the substantial meal Tegan had pressed on her, Xena rode on, searching for Aralaus and his men. She’d only had a few rumors to give her the general direction, but knew that the village of Pyrgos was only about a day away. She would learn more there, she hoped.

Xena heard the man hurrying up the road before she saw him. A misstep or two with the resulting clanking sounds produced by his armor readily identified him as Joxer.

She sighed. I can’t afford to babysit him now. Gods, how I miss Gabrielle already! Maybe he’s heard something about Aralaus, though, she thought.

With a gentle shift in pressure from her knees, she stopped Argo, then dismounted. Joxer rounded a bend and spotted the Warrior Princess. He also stopped, and removed his helmet before approaching.

Whatever’s on his mind, he’s serious about it, she decided. When Joxer wasn’t wearing his helmet, he usually had something important to say.

"Xena! Thank Zeus!"

"Hello, Joxer," she replied. "Where’s the fire?"

"Pyrgos," he told her. "There’s a warlord headed there, and I promised my friends I’d try to find you and bring you back. If you hadn’t turned up, well, I suppose I could take on just one warlord. Where’s Gabby?"

"Gabrielle," she corrected him, "is either flat on her back or stuffing her face at Tegan’s. She’s come down with la grippe or something, and I told her to stay in bed until she feels better."

"Poor Gabby. We could use her."

"‘We,’ Joxer? You’re no match for a warlord and his army, even a weakling like Aralaus. Thanks for telling me where he’s going. Now, I can deal with him, and you can go on to Tegan’s and make sure Gabrielle doesn’t try to follow me."

"I can’t do that, Xena. Joxer the Mighty keeps his word. There’s a farmer back there – his name’s Agricola – with his wife, and when I rescued them from these four bandits –"

"Joxer, Gabrielle tells a much better story than that." She gave him ‘the look.’

"It’s true!" he protested. "I don’t know how I did it, but it happened. That’s not important now."

Xena’s eyebrows went up in surprise. Joxer almost never passed up the chance to brag.

"What’s important is that we became friends," he continued. "They have a nice farm. I promised them I’d get help and come back to fight this Aralaus guy. Please, Xena, you’ve gotta let me help my friends."

She remained impassive. "You’ve done that. I can handle this. Gabrielle is your friend, too."

"I know," he sighed, "and it really hurts ’cause I can’t be there, but she’ll be fine with Tegan, and besides, the last thing she needs right now is me hanging around when she should be getting better. I’ve gotta go back to Pyrgos."

"Joxer, I can’t waste time rescuing you whenever you get in trouble. Remember what Draco did to you at Hestia’s temple?

"I know. I’m just in the way. But I’m offering my help anyway – as a friend."

Xena pondered this. "For once, Joxer, you’re right. You are my friend. Very well. I accept. But" – she pulled him down as he jumped and shouted for joy – "don’t let it go to your head."

The Warrior Princess took some of Joxer’s extra gear – it seemed he was always carrying a few items too many – and stowed it in one of Argo’s saddlebags while Joxer fed the palomino some carrots. There were some pieces of wood, a pouch of lute picks and strings (but no lute), extra quarrels for the crossbow now slung from Argo’s saddle, a hopelessly tangled rope and two blank scrolls. Then the heroine and the erstwhile hero started toward Pyrgos.


"Xena, something’s been bothering me," Joxer said. "I took on these bandits, and all I did was trip over my own feet. They should have killed me. I still haven’t figured out how I beat them. I’m not a mighty hero. You know I love Gabrielle, and I just don’t have a clue as to how I can impress her so she’ll love me. Can you help me, maybe give me some lessons, or something?"

"I haven’t got time to train you, Joxer. Anyway, Gabrielle isn’t impressed with mighty heroes."

"I’m not so sure about that. She’s impressed with you, isn’t she? I want to be able to fight these guys without you having to look over your shoulder to make sure I’m not in trouble."

"You’ve got a point," Xena admitted. "Maybe I can show you a few things while we’re on the road."

"Gee, thanks, Xena!" This time he grabbed his own shoulders to keep from jumping around. Xena smiled. He’s just like a puppy, she thought.

"Now, here’s your first lesson," she said. "Gabrielle is nobody’s ‘sidekick.’ She’s very capable and independent. She’s also my partner. We watch each other’s backs. Even more than that, she’s my friend. You helped me remember that."

"I did?"

"After Solan died and I blamed Gabrielle, you stuck by her. You were willing to die for her when all I wanted to do was kill her."

Joxer, remembering, choked back tears. "I couldn’t stop you."

"You tried. With your bare hands. That was one of the bravest acts I’ve ever seen. Foolhardy, but brave."

None too steady herself from the painful memory, she put her arm around his shoulders to comfort him. Neither said anything for a while. Then Xena continued.

"Because she’s my friend, I can talk to Gabrielle when I have a problem, and she can talk to me. You can talk to me about Gabrielle because I’m your friend and I won’t laugh at you. So treat her as a friend and respect her, and she won’t laugh at you either."

"Respect?" he asked, innocently.

"I’m a warrior. Gabrielle doesn’t have my years of experience. But I can’t create a story like she can. And you haven’t had to eat my cooking; that’s why Gabrielle fixes our meals. By the way, can you cook, Joxer?"

"Not very well," he admitted. "It’s edible."

Xena sighed. "We’ll manage. And that farmer you told me about – he can grow crops better than any of us. So I respect him as my equal for that. If he had to protect his village from warlords all the time, he wouldn’t be as good a farmer. That’s why we’re here, Joxer, not because we’re any better than he is, but because we can do the job he doesn’t have time to learn."

Joxer brightened. "So we’re all equals, but I’m still mighty?"

"We’ll work on that."


The two warriors were making good time on the road to Pyrgos. Xena had begun to explain a few techniques to the attentive Joxer.

"How you handle your weapons can make the difference between life and death. The first thing to remember is that when you draw your sword, you must be ready to use it. You've never killed anyone, have you, Joxer?"

"How did you know that?"

"It's the way you brag about yourself, a certain look that isn't in your eyes, the fumbling with your weapons."

"Oh," he said, shamed.

Xena stopped for a moment. She gave Argo’s reins to Joxer to hold, then searched the side of the road near some trees. Finding what she wanted, she bent down and retrieved a short, straight branch, about a sword’s length, which she stripped. She returned and unstrapped a pole from Argo’s gear. She handed the pole to Joxer.

"Here," she said. "I’m going to show you how to fight a bit better. This pole will give you a bit of reach on me."

"Sticks? I always trained with real swords!"

"And what did you get out of it? Besides, you have to be able to use whatever comes to hand when the need arises. You don’t seem to have any problem with Gabrielle using a ‘stick.’ Just think of it as a spear if you have to."

"All right, Xena, you’re the expert. So what do I do next?"

"You have to let everything go."

Joxer dropped his pole.

"That’s not what I meant!" She picked it up and handed it back to him.

"What I meant was, release your emotions. Release your pride. Don’t even think of Gabrielle. Just be."

Joxer shut his eyes and screwed up his face.

"You’re trying too hard. Relax. Now let that weapon be a part of you." He unscrewed his features. "Feel what is. Let it flow around you. Now I’ll make a move."

Uncomprehending, he raised the pole. Xena attacked, a simple slash, but it sent the pole flying. Embarrassed, he retrieved it.

"All right," she sighed. "Let’s try it again."

Over and over, Xena demonstrated thrusts and parries, slashes and feints. Joxer was fooled nearly every time, and acquired a painful collection of bruises as Xena found each weak spot in his armor. He repeatedly lost his pole, and never once swung at the Warrior Princess, though she was deliberately holding back so he could see how things were done.

"Come on, Joxer, pick it up again and try attacking me for a change."

"Xena, I can’t do this! I was a fool to ever think I could. I’ll never be any good as a warrior." He hung his head in shame.

"Joxer, if you give up now, you might as well forget helping people, forget Gabrielle, go home to Corinth and stay there. Just don’t feel bad when people laugh at you, because they’re going to do that for the rest of your life. Damn it, I believe in you. Gabrielle believes in you. It’s time you believed in yourself."

He continued to stand with his head down. Then a low, broken voice issued almost piecemeal from his throat.

"No one ever believed in me before. I’ll do my best. I have to."

"You’ll do it. Gabrielle once told me that it’s easy to believe in yourself after someone has believed in you first. She’s right. Just don’t try so hard to get everything perfect the first time. You will make all kinds of mistakes, but as long as you’re generous and true, you can’t hurt the world or even seriously distress her.

"We’ll practice again later," Xena continued. "Let’s put some more miles behind us while you give yourself a chance to feel better. I wasn’t the greatest warrior all my life either, you know. I was too proud to listen to Lao Ma…" She lapsed into silence, remembering choices she had made long before. Joxer said nothing; he knew the story from Gabrielle’s scrolls.


At the next halt, they resumed with the sticks. Xena took Joxer’s hand in hers and showed him how to grip a sword better. Then she literally positioned his arms to indicate how he could protect himself, parry and attack.

Gee, I used to fantasize about Xena holding me like this! Get a grip, Joxer, old boy. Your life depends on what she’s telling you.

"Joxer, stop daydreaming and pay attention! Or do I give your nose the next lesson?"

"Sorry. What did you just say?"

"That when you attack, you must be ready to defend the next second. When you parry, you must be ready for the next opening."

"It sounds just like the opposite of what you want to do."

"I guess it does. Just like a warrior trying to avoid a fight. But that’s exactly what a warrior does until it’s time to fight. All right, Joxer, come at me, but slowly."

He raised his pole and thrust it at Xena. She lifted up with her stick and deflected the blow. Joxer tried to circle the pole down but Xena thrust in turn and he jumped back, the end just missing his battered round breastplate. Both then placed their weapons at the ready and Joxer attempted a slash. This time after Xena deflected it, he was able to recover in time to parry Xena’s response. He could not get past Xena’s stick, but he did manage to place his attacks in the vicinity of the openings she was showing him. This went on for several minutes until Xena called a halt.

"That was much better, Joxer. Against a less experienced warrior, some of those attacks would have gotten through. I think you’ll have a chance against Aralaus’s men. Just remember not to let your defense down when you see a possible attack. One more time, then we have to press on again."


Close to sunset, they made camp near a spring. Dinner was light: bread and cheese along with some cured olives and a bowl of well-mixed wine, but this was a time to tend to sore muscles and tired feet, not rumbling bellies. Xena gave Joxer some salve for his bruises. Then they stretched out by the fire.

"Joxer, I’m proud of you," she told him. "It took a lot of guts to put up with the beating I gave you today. You gave yourself a chance and you learned something. You always had it in you. Get some rest. I’ll take the first watch."

He was soon asleep. I could never humiliate myself for someone else, Xena thought. Not even Gabrielle, and I love her. Of course, he loves her, too. And he’s used to being humiliated. He must hurt a lot inside. I wonder if I should just try to convince him that Gabrielle only loves him like a brother, maybe spare him another hurt. Trouble is, I’m not convinced she doesn’t feel more than that for him.

She continued to ponder the puzzle as she watched the stars in the heavens and listened to the soft sounds of the nocturnal animals on their business. It even drove the thought of Aralaus out of her head for a time. And so it went until it was time to wake Joxer for the next watch.


END OF ACT ONE


Continue on to Act Two

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