Jazen's Tale
Rating: M
Synopsis: Jazen is valet of Daemon Sadi. He's also a man who has suffered terrible brutalities in Terrielle. Having been living in Kaeleer for well over two hundred years his entire life has been his job, but his life starts to change when he meets a broken witch who wants as badly as him to have a normal life.
Jazen scrubbed his face with his hands to try and wake up. He, like many other servants, lived at the Hall, but even valets got days off, and on those days Jazen would work if he was at the Hall. Prince Sadi had finally talked him into getting an apartment in Hallaway. It was close enough that he could go home whenever he wanted, but mostly he preferred the Hall.
It wasn't that Hallaway wasn't very nice, but his life had been his job ever since he could remember, even before the maiming. Before he'd only ever had the occasional lover because he'd been too busy and assumed that he would find time now. Hedging on two hundred years since, and not one romantic encounter.
No one pushed in the Hall. They knew what happened to him, or at least they knew that it shouldn't have happened. He had friends there, and a man he was willing to serve. People on the outside weren't so understanding. He always had to be careful about when and how he got undressed and bathed. It was also awkward when having to find the privy. A healer had been able to do a bit of work so that the process was less messy, but that didn't mean it wasn't less awkward.
Mostly, he just didn't like being treated like he was a cripple, or stared at. He wasn't an invalid. He could still work. He was still a man. There were things he couldn't do, but other males had similar procedures due to diseases, the difference was that most people knew about it, or it happened when they were very young, too young to have known a woman, or old enough that they already had a family. And in those cases it was normally one or the other, not everythin, not like him.
Jazen sighed again, quietly getting dressed for the morning. He'd go to the pub nearby for breakfast. They knew him there. The owner had worked at the Hall for a while and knew about his 'condition'. It meant that no one was going to bother him, even if the pity he saw in the man's eyes grated him. It was funny really, at one point his worst pain came from the fear of starving, now his biggest pain came from kind hearted people with pity in their eyes. His whole life didn't come down to one day, did no one see that but him?
'Well, that's hardly fair' he thought to himself and he started working on his tie. Daemon Sadi had never looked at him with pity, only understanding. It made Jazen feel guilty sometimes. He'd felt pity for Sadi before, but his employer actually understood the pain. Well, he didn't know thee exact pain, but he knew what it was for people to look at him based on something he hadn't much been able to help.
He finished with his tie, looking at himself in the mirror in his room. He was actually a fairly attractive man, not like his employer, of course, or any of the SaDiablo family, but they were a very special case. He was handsome for being a normal human. What had someone said before? 'What a waste.' That sentiment annoyed him. It wasn't like he was dead, he was still there. He still had thoughts, and emotions and two working hands and a strong back. His father had always said a man's life was his back, funny how no one treats you bad if you throw you back out, but if you lose other parts of your anatomy then you're suddenly treated like you are the plague itself.
He grumbled to himself and pulled on his shoes, heading out to go get breakfast. He didn't normally think about his maiming like he was now. He'd gotten used to it, but everyone so often someone would say something that would get right under his skin. This time it had been a drunk idiot. It wasn't even addressed at him, but some other man that Jazen had never seen who according to the drunk claimed to have been hurt the same was Jazen was. Not that the drunk man believed it.
It was probably more honest to say that no matter how Jazen ran over the drunk's words in his head (Bloody liar, thinking such a ridiculous lie will fool anyone. Man's a rapist and trying to hide it. You know, I think those terriellians are exaggerating their problems to get our resources, take our jobs, and here comes one man playing like he's all innocent. No innocent man would get hurt like that, no man would allow it) he wasn't really insulted for himself. Well, he was insulted, the man had called him a liar by proxy, but it was the stigma wit being from Terrielle that pissed him off the most. He was avoiding that by dealing with a different pain, one that he'd been dealing with longer and knew how to handle at this point.
He slipped his hands through his hair and left, locking his door and vanishing his keys as he left. Locking a door with your jewels was all well and fine if you had a darker set of jewels, and it wasn't like he didn't lock his door that way as well, but he liked the physical weight of real locks better. There was something so human about them, a reminder that he was a part of not just the blood but also the Hayllian race.
Jazen quietly found a tune to whistle, one of Lady Jaenelle singing a witch song that she'd recorded for him when she heard him humming it one day as he worked to straighten up her husband's room. It was one of his most treasured possessions. But then Lady Jaenelle had never looked at him as what he'd lost or what he could have been; only what he was and could be.
"You're meant to be more than just Daemon's valet," Jaenelle said, watching him press her husbands clothes.
"Oh, did you see it in a web or something?" Jazen asked. He may have been one of the few people who would ask such things, but he knew she liked being treated like a person sometimes. That was how he'd spoken to the lady's of the men he'd served in the past as well… well that's how he'd speak to them if they were any good.
"No, it's just something I can tell about you," she said and he turned to look at her, catching for a moment the oldness in his eyes. It reminded him of his great grandmother for just a moment, an old, old woman who'd been around before Terrielle became so tainted, and remembered the old ways, the no one had believed her. He remembered her looking at him the same way whenever she asked him if he'd found a wife yet, and he quietly laugh it off then.
"Don't worry your mind with me, I'm not that important," he said, laughing her off like he had his grandmother. He saw her frown just as his grandmother would frown. He would always laugh off her words, but he wouldn't forget them… just like he would never forget Lady Jaenelle's words to him from that day.
Jazen smiled a bit sadly at the memory before realizing that he'd actually walked past his intended destination. He actually laughed at himself and spun on his heel, walked back to the pub and actually entering the establishment this time instead of wandering past it.
"Good morning Warlord!" Birdie, the owners wife said cheerfully, winking at him as she passed. He liked her a lot, she was just the embodiment of a festival evening, fun even if it was a bit naughty at times. She flirted with him constantly, but he never felt uncomfortable or like she was making fun of him, or that it was going to make her husband angry even if he didn't know Jazen before hand.
"Good morning, Lady" Jazen said with an over dramatic bow, making the woman and her husband laugh.
"You do see Terry he'll set you up with a bit of milk while I get your usual," she said with a grin.
Jazen said and walked to the bar, finding his usual. A glass of milk was already waiting for him. "You know I could get you something stronger," Terry said, inspecting his glasses to be sure they were spotless.
"It's only ten of the morning," Jazen said. He didn't mind alcohol, but he preferred juices and milk in general, something that Terry teased him for, and his employer found completely impossible to understand.
"Ehh, well, drinking a good whiskey this time of the morning will put hair on your chest," Terry said and Jazen snorted in a laugh.
"Has that worked with any of your customers, ever?" he asked. Men of the long lived race didn't grow hair on their chests or faces, and Dhemlan men were the majority of Terry's customers.
"Feh, you just don't appreciate a good thing when you see it!" Terry said.
Jazen shook his head. It would always start out like this. It wasn't like they didn't get along, but almost always one of them would say something and then Terry would start feeling awkward and get really quiet or start tripping over his words to not offend Jazen. It was like he didn't realize that Jazen had suffered a lot already, and a few poorly chosen words were not going to make him burst into tears.
"Here you go, baby love," Birdie said, kissing Jazen's cheek as she slipped his plate down in front of him.
"Thank you Birdie," Jazen said, ignoring the kiss. He didn't even seem to notice that Terry was shaking his head. Birdie would give simple affections to people she trusted, Jazen happened to be one of them. Besides that, her husband was a green jeweled prince who preferred physical labor to a court dinner any day. This meant he was a very big and imposing man who had the ability to back up his fists with some real strength. He could also break Jazen is half if he wanted to.
Jazen started in on his eggs, content to eat in silence, that is until a loud crash in the back of the pub interrupted his morning. "Is something wrong?" he asked, watching Birdie bustle back, her hips and braid swinging in ways that were more frantic than flirty like she normally walked.
"I hope nothing big got broken," Terry said, seeming like he wanted to go back and check, but shook his head and looked back at Jazen. "It's the new help," he said. "Birdie's sister suggested her. She's a fiercely brilliant cook, but she's got a problem with customers," he said.
"You don't let customers in the back," Jazen said.
"Yes, but milkmen come to the back," Terry said, and Jazen understood. It wasn't customers this girl had trouble with, it was men. This was why Terry was hesitating, if she really had a problem then he didn't want to make it worse.
"What happened to her?" he asked.
"What happened to you?" Terry asked, and Jazen stiffened for a moment, waiting for Terry to figure out what he said was offensive and stammer out an apology. Instead he just looking to the back, absent mindedly cleaning the glass in his hands until Jazen had to lean on the bar rail and grab the glass so Terry wouldn't have more broken things to clean up. "Thanks," Terry muttered.
"Don't mention it," Jazen said.
Birdie came out at that moment, looking troubled. "Is everything okay?" Terry asked.
"We lost a couple sets of dishes," she said, "but Annalie's bleeding badly, I think she needs a healer," she said, looking worried. "I was going to go and get Malene," she said.
"No, I'll go," Terry said. "You need to stay with her, you know I can't, and it's too early for the others to be in," he said.
"We'll have to close shop for a while then," Birdie said.
"No you won't," Jazen said. "I'll go. It's my day off," he added so Birdie wouldn't protest. If the girl actually needed a healer then they didn't need to be having this argument. "You can reheat my plate when I get back," he said and got up.
He walked out, not letting them protest. He caught the winds. Malene was a good healer, but she lived on the other side of the city, and he needed to get her quickly. A short ride on the purple dusk and he had arrived, dropping off at Malene's door and entering.
"Do you have an appointment?" the healer in training squeaked from behind her desk. Malene had a new idea about healers and how they should have offices and clean environments to check their patients in. She was good, but a bit eccentric.
"No, but I need Malene, someone's gotten badly hurt at Terry's," he said, raising his voice loud enough that he knew Malene heard. It was early enough in the day that most people hadn't gotten out of bed to do things yet. Malene was opened early, as was the pub but there wasn't anyone at the pub when he'd arrived there, just like there wasn't anyone at thee healer's yet.
"Is it Annalie?" Malene asked. "Nevermind, don't answer," she said. "If it were Birdie then Terry would have carried her, and Terry would have healed it enough to get himself down here on his own," she said. "Come on," she said, walking out. They both caught the purple dusk, riding it back to Terry's.
When they arrived, screaming could be heard in the back. "Damn," Malene muttered, heading back Jazen followed, too curious to let his common sense keep in the front where Terry wasn't, and should have stayed.
It was fairly obvious why he hadn't though. There was a lot of blood and broken dishes on the floor, as well as a bloody knife. Past the kitchen, in the living area of the pub where the screaming was coming from, were Birdie and Terry who were trying to keep a flailing girl on the bed. Jazen could see that she was really bloodied, and he wondered what had happened.
"Terry, get away," Malene said, and Terry did as he was told, Malene walking over and snapping her fingers in front of the young woman's face until she stopped flailing and screaming and started to calm down, her eyes focused on Malene, who was now wearing her sapphire jewels. "Just relax," she told the girl. "What happened?" she asked Birdie as she started to work.
"The milkman came back and surprised her. He wasn't the usual guy, but he used to come around a lot before, so he thought he was welcome in the kitchen and didn't realize that we have new rules," Birdie said. "She dropped a bunch of plates and ended up cutting herself really badly in the process," she said. "And she couldn't move. I told her that Terry was just going to bring her to her room, but she freaked out when we got part way here," she said.
"See, this is why I tell you to leave my patients where they are," Malene said. "Jazzy, go get me some warm water, will you?" Malene asked in a baby voice, making Jazen wince.
"Of course," Jazen said, going professional cool, and walking back to the kitchen to get what was requested of him. He was actually glad for the excuse to be out of the room. When Terry and Birdie had moved and Jazen really got a look at the injured young woman it felt a bit like his world had shifted. She was small, and properly plump for pleasing curves, and she had large golden eyes that were just a bit too large for her face. It was an innocent look, one that certain types of men would have liked, and it was obvious by the fact that a little probing told him that she was broken.
It really made him angry. It would make any reasonable man angry too. He felt like underneath the wide eyed fear he saw in her that there was strength, like something really good could have been in her if she hadn't broken. It took a lot of strength to move to Kaeleer no matter what. There were a lot of risks involved, and the service fairs hadn't been opened for a few hundred years. Jazen wasn't sure, but she seemed more like a new arrival, which meant that she'd have needed even more courage to get through the gates.
He returned with a basin of the water Malene asked for before looking at Terry. "I'll clean up so you can get back to the front," Jazen said. "We don't want anyone stealing your liquor," he added as joke, since Terry wouldn't shut up about his liquor sales kept the roof over his and Birdie's head (these rants were normally about why Jazen should buy some alcohol from him). It succeeded to snapping Terry to some of his senses.
"No, Jazen, I can-" Birdie started.
"Stay here, no worries," Jazen said, waving her off. "You're needed here," he said, glancing over at Annalie, whose gaze he'd noticed kept going to Birdie, though now he found her eyes fixed uncomfortably on him.
He pretended like he hadn't seen that and headed back to the kitchen. He started by sweeping up thee broken pieces with a bit of craft and starting to try and get the blood out. Birdie was a hearth witch and would be able to get the last of it out of the wood floor, but he could make her life easier by getting the worst of it out of the old wood and starting the treatment so it wouldn't be so hard to scrub out later.
"How are you enjoying your day off?" Terry called asked, looking at him from the door.
"Terribly relaxing," Jazen muttered, smiling a bit as he heard Terry laugh and go back to work.
So…. Jazen, not really a romantic lead?
I love the Black Jewels Trilogy because it's such a great world, but I feel like the author leave so much undone in favor of playing with her favorite dolls (AKA: The Pantheon, AKA: the SaDiablo Family). Not that those dolls aren't interesting (I contend that the woman is a genius for making me love Saetan when basically most of the pain that happens to the people in Terrielle, not to mention his own children, happens because he doesn't have the balls to kill Heketah early on. The truth is that Jaenelle wouldn't have been needed if Saetan hadn't been too tied by honor, and yes, Daemon and Lucivar probably would exist… but then how many people suffered and died? And I still freaking love Saetan!).
My main problem is that Terrielle is left completely unhelped, aside from Shalador Nehele… and that's it. It's already stated that Daemon can't go to Terrielle, and Saetan essentially stops taking care of the Dhemlan territories… but even if he takes care of the Terrielle Dhemlan, he still dies, and no one's left to help. Then there's Hayll, ground zero for the taint, meaning the most blood gone, and the ladens have been under the thumb of the blood longer, which means even bloodier uprising… and no one's there to help. No one goes to Terrielle to teach people the old ways. The land of light has no taint, but is still screwed because the SaDiablo family (who do basically lead Kaeleer) turn up their nose because of personal hurts caused by people who are dead or most likely dead.
Yes, I do want to do things with Terrielle, but I figured I'd start smaller and write a love story.
One of my other annoyances with the series is that it has the claim that good people should receive good things and that people can be hurt for no reason, and can rebuild in Kaeleer… but Jazen's "happy ending" is that he gets a job where people don't stare at him funny. I suppose compared to what he had Terrielle this is a blessing, but because he was hurt so badly by Dorothea and he doesn't get to rebuild or have a 'normal life'. The thing is that people who aren't interested in sex, or unable to have sex can still love people.
My roommate tells me that by writing this I have clearly missed the point of fanfiction, that it's all about sex, but I like to think that fanfiction can be able healing and intimacy as well. I did look into things about castration and penectomy (which, as bad as I feel about saying, look really freaky) because I wanted to try and get this more right. Yes, the possibility of sex is reduced down to basically what Jazen can do for his partner, but there is an intimacy in that as well.
And now that I've spent a whole page on Author's Notes, let me wrap up with this. I plan for this to be a few chapters. I don't think this will be very popular because it's so very weird of an idea, and it's really not about the main cast by a side character and an OC. I would love a few reviews, because I want people to like this, and I want people to think about the series beyond what's on the page, about what's left unsaid and what can be done still with this wonderful world that Anne Bishop has made for us to imagine and play in. So, I hope you enjoyed and will come back for more chapters.