20th Jansplur
I have never seen such a turn around in a person! It is most astonishing, Jareth awoke at a half past five this morning, shaking me softly to wake me – to sight the sun as he had done throughout our journey.
It was quite touching, as I bleary eyed and fatigued from his endless noisy screeching and wailing the night before, sat perched on the window seat keeping a tight hold onto the child's nightshirt, so he would not fall forward and do himself a harm. He was very attentive to it, loudly shouting out varying details of the spectacle, the swirling colours and the swelling ball of fire that slowly lit the room as it rose. He had to be shushed for my fear he would wake the others – who sleep in the series of rooms situated up the corridor.
Hatchet had a right surprise to see I and Jareth nearly dressed and cleansed upon her arrival – I believe it put her out of her routine, as she muttered lowly for us to wait as she went to prepare Sophia for the day. Sophia recoiled slightly at the sight of her somewhat changeable cousin, I would imagine fearing yet another passionate onslaught, but Jareth was the picture of decorum and manner – taking her hand, kissing it as if both were in attendance for some grand state ball – not being dressed for the day by their nannies!
She was somewhat flattered by this, confused, but flattered, as was apparent by her little blush. Without saying anything, she ran from the room after his display of relative chivalry – children tend to run from what they fail to understand, as do adults, it was remarkable I myself did not flee by applying such logic.
The King was in a most glorious mood at breakfast, had all the servants join the family in the long oak table that stretched throughout the dining hall, so me and Hatchet were strategically positioned next to each other, just after the children in the order of standing. We occasionally shot each other glares at the misconduct of the other's respective charge, for example, Sophia would spill her porridge on the front of her dress, I would give a disapproving cluck – if Jareth happened to knock over his mug of cocoa (entirely without intention, I am sure) she would give a most distasteful smirk and, even chanced to give an evil cackle. It is wrong to wish evil on anyone, but if she happened to meet an unfortunate end underneath one of the ample horses in the stables - I would not weep.
The King, his sister, Olga and Tatyana were giggling together like a gaggle of conspicuous school chums, speaking of all manner of things, even daring ridicule the current fashions at the Sidhe court (which I heard are ample tassels, Gazzlebird feathers and slitted sleeves) – not the most sensible targets for ridicule with Oberon at the helm!
This, as with most topics revolving around events at the Sidhe court, quickly degenerated to gossip on the subject of his, how shall I state this? Tumultuous relationship with his wife, Titania. Apparently, she has taken yet another lover, something Oberon is protesting to, despite him himself having a veritable catalogue of high-born maids to plunder, something he does when not handling affairs of state or making merry with the court.
Apparently, she brought her latest lover into their court on the pretext of his being a distant cousin come to reminiscence on childhood times of innocence, when of course the met was anything but. That Titania is well known for his slyness, and one could say her ingenuity at repeatedly managing to defy her husband's will – they're union is that of constant unceasing battle of wits. The talk of which never ceases to fill the pages of the gutter value journals that are eagerly consumed by the hands of those striving to attain some kind of knowledge of the high courts.
I was shocked when the King turned to me, still laughing, enquiring as to the management and well-being of the children. The Queen gave me a slight knowing look, I could see her pleading with me to withhold knowledge of Jareth's tirade, something he is evidently not aware of. I withhold that knowledge, knowing how it would only do damage, and told him the children were progressing well, and looking on Jareth busily shoving Porridge into his strained mouth, stated he was adjusting to his new role well.
He smiled yet more broadly, giving a loud guffaw as I proceeded to recount Jareth's somewhat...heinous...attitude towards the church, at which the child's face flushed, pushing me with his arm to cease his shame. Despite Jareth's embarrassment, the King, somewhat wickedly, admitted he sometimes found the proceedings somewhat tiresome, but went through them from his duty, a duty adopted at birth – a duty never to be rejected. Sophia spoke at this, declaring 'Papa! You must not laugh so loud, thou will wake the ponies!"
At this, he calmed himself, retaining composure, and returning to matters of some form of seriousness, asking if it would be possible for us to arrange a performance with the children for a procession of dignitaries arriving from various sectors to celebrate his anniversary as King. He suggested something relating to the seasons, and gave me directions to the library, telling me there were ample play scripts to be found there.
To certain people's fortune, there was only a brief hour long service today, and we quickly retreated, all four of us to the library, where as I and Hatchet scoured the shelves for suitable plays to ingrain into the memories of the children (Valeriya, Angelina and Marina are also to join our little cast – to make it remotely substantial!) Jareth and Sophia reconciled the conflict that had arisen the day previous. I couldn't help smiling as I heard Jareth mumble, so I could barely hear, a slight word of apology to his cousin, who immediately threw her arms around him, ordering him to kiss her cheek as show of his thanks. He reluctantly did so, darting his head forward and withdrawing it in a flash, the blush returning once more as she flung herself around him with a great enthusiasm .
Hatchet and I located a suitable subject of study, a play called 'Thee Gloies of the Seesons' which focuses on various fanciful personifications frolicking about the stage, accompanied by a narrator. We have already managed to draw together a cast list, appointing roles to each child, I will include a copy of our little cast here, so I will ever remember!
Sophia – Summer (Hatchet pressed that her daughter, as the 'highest princess' in participation, should be appointed the most significant role – a fact to which I had eventually to resign myself.)
Jareth – Winter (when not acting as a passionate demon, he can be most haughty, distant even when he wishes it – so he fits the role to a tea.)
Valeriya - Spring (a sweet, delicate child, quite sunny, she is nicknamed 'sunbeam' so once more, is well suited.)
Marina – Autumn (her hair being a tad more auburn than that of her sisters gives her the coppery colour one associates with the season.)
Angelina – The Winds of Change (poor girl. A most insubstantial role, acting merely as narrator, but still, she appeared grateful for what she was given at the first rehearsal.)
The older children will be performing in a more elaborate production, later in the evening, I know not what the subject is yet, though I will strive to find out, as I would love to see it myself, I can picture Maria and Alexandra taking to the stage like Swans to water! I'd imagine it will be one of those detached, noble, forced affairs – the like of which royalty generally excel at performing, though I do hope they will surprise me. There will be quite a competition going on between our little 'team' and the older children – I will put all my energy into ensuring we prevail triumphant, charming the guests, as I am sure will be easy manageable with a host of round cheeked little children at our disposal.
Jareth sincerely impressed me by working extremely hard in his studies, his somewhat shaky literacy and writing are both advancing in leaps and bounds, and he constantly suggests meanings to the curious word forms on the page, and is reading some of Sophia's discarded story books from a year ago. So overall he is making excellent progress, if he is already achieving the level of education expected of one his age, despite his troubles in life.
Hatchet dared embark on a singing lesson as well, an area in which he outstaged Sophia totally and absolutely. He has such a lovely voice, so very pleasant to listen to when he wishes it to be so, though occasionally in merry play he lowers it to sound deep and cumbersome – sending Sophia into a fit of giggles – only to be rewarded by a succession of reprimanding glares from Hatchet. I will have to speak with the Queen over hiring him a professional teacher in the arts of music, I can see he has a natural talent, and it must be nurtured if to be put to good use.
He is displaying particular flair for languages, threw himself into the latest court language (they rotate which language is fashionable to be used at court with each year), which has been designated as Clacian (a bizarre, dead classical tongue.) He spent dinner strutting about the table conversing in it – asking his mother what her name was (one of the simplicities first taught) to which she responded, 'Regina' (she spoke in jest), patting him slightly on the head before he scooted off returning to his place.
He is impressing everyone now, even his sisters are beginning to take a form of interest in him. Maria crying out he was 'such a clever little boy' and attempting to embrace him, to which he wriggled and drew away from – sisterly love is something he is not yet accustomed to, and I doubt he will ever be.
I snatched a sight of him in one of his pensive moods as we were all gathered in the playroom, going through our first rehearsal, Valeriya, Angelina and Marina withdrawing from the safe cocoon of the congregation of sisters to join us, and despite being slightly intimidated by the depth of Sophia's exuberance for her role (at one point she began shrieking "I'm summer!" when Valeriya dared mention his pet name, as if to assert her power, she began flapping her arms wildly, as if to take flight – Hatchet had to restrain her.)
Jareth was sat perched on the window, legs dangling off as he watched the sun slowly set in the distance, his eyes smiling. He was so very content, as if he's safe in some form of knowledge, excuse my fanciful thoughts, but if I dared say it – it's as if he'd waiting for someone. And I know who. At least I can safe in that he is waiting in vain, we are safe now, no harm can possibly come onto us.
Finally took the chance to write home. Poor dears, they must be agonising with the worry! I have tried to explain exactly what has went on, as well as make clear my contentment and happiness, and I how I will return to holiday soon - I asked the Queen and she granted my my leave, once the festivities for the anniversary are over – oh how I await it!
Did some more knitting in the evening, in the playroom as Jareth and Sophia played most amiably together – avoiding the rocking horse that had sparked such animosity between the two the day previous and turning their attentions to Sophia's beautiful dolls house.
Now Jareth, being very much a typical boy child, immediately commandeered the role of the father-doll, marching him throughout the delicately decorated intricate halls of the house knocking over great quantities of the fragile pieces of dolly furniture spread generously throughout. It really is a wonder, better decorated than my own home, and certainly equipped with more rooms! It is so wonderfully detailed – the walls are papered, there are miniature ceramic flowers in the vases, and tiny oils litter the walls – there are even miniature oil lamps that Hatchet will light on special occasions - to tell the truth I would probably be more excited than the children on such an occasion – it is all most thrilling!
Have begun work on Jareth's costume, as Hatchet is also furiously working on Sophia's and the evil hag who takes guardianship over the girlies has been drafted to create costumes for the three youngest princesses of the Goblin realm. The work is coming along well, I am using some lovely floaty gauzy material, a just smashing cold blue colour – it will suit the role just perfectly! Jareth was very difficulty when taking measurements however, insisted on squirming and making a fuss, though it was nothing compared to how he has been in the past.
Finished the day sitting in the rocking chair in the playroom under Hatchet's watchful eyes, as I read to two rapt little children knelt on the monster-skin rug. It was quite a sad story really, The Girl Who Trod on a Loaf (a most bizarre title!) literally telling of a foolish little girl called Inge, who grew to be possessed of fanciful ideas above her station, and to avoid muddying her pretty town shoes on a trip to visit her mother – placed a loaf on the puddle in question, and as a consequence descended into the land of Goblins and Elves (painted as somewhat demonic creatures in this tale) where she grew to be exceeding unhappy. Ultimately, she was transformed into a statue in the dark kingdom, but gained redemption, and rose up into the skies as beautiful, sky bird, flying straight into the heart of the sun.
I believe I inspired Hatchet's jealousy at my adeptness at storytelling, as I saw her face as the children clapped their little hands, hopping up and down on their feet begging for more if the same – it was stony, and totally unmoved. Snatching Sophia's hand she led her to her bedroom, as I too put Jareth to bed, he has led a full and happy day – settled to sleep with a smile on his lips, which is always a pleasure to see.
It is my joy to record a sensible hour at which I am to sleep in happiness and security – ten.
There we are, another chapter done and dusted. Oh yes, either the next chapter or the one after will mark a split in the story, and with that I'm going to take a bit of a time out with this (only for a week or two) as I have other things, and would like to return to my original fiction a bit. Before I have my 'break' though, I will be finishing The Ties That Bind (another chapters been written - but needs to edited and proofed) and when I come back it will be with the much promised and constantly redrafted story.
The story Simplicity's tells the children is once again taken from my book of Hans Christian Anderson fairy tales, and yes, that's it's real title!
As always thank you very, very much for reviewing everyone! This story has went over 50 reviews now which is a huge achievement for me, it's so lovely to know that so many are enjoying it! I hope you enjoy this chapter, and let me know what you think!