There was no warning. The storm hit his kingdom, and those surrounding,
quickly, violently and with sweeping ferocity. Magic raged like a grieving
mother, the winds keening as they wrought havoc, unleashing that which was
contained, provoking the wild and untamed, fear ran rampant as the storm
continued for nigh on a week before disappearing as suddenly as it had
come.
Again on his throne, Jareth looked even wearier, even his beautiful, mismatched eyes lacked their cruel edge for exhaustion. He half listened to reports while he contemplated his next move, goblins wanting restitution, extra hands to rebuild and above all, wanting reason and reassurance that it wouldn't happen again. Promises he couldn't give. He authorised monetary restitution, delegated one of the senior goblins to organise work parties to repair the worst of the damage, all the while avoiding any mention of why, or reassurance of never again.
The request chime sounded throughout the room. Jareth looked up and allowed a gate to open for whoever it was requesting an audience. Little though he looked forward to a repeat of the previous performance of the pompous messenger, he also craved release from worry and the feeling that he was helpless on his own to stand against the coming war. The bygone storm had been but one warning, one indication that it was much, much closer than any had first supposed.
"Your Highness." Came a clear voice, smooth and masculine it also held the lilting character of sensuality. The tall fae figure inclined his head, almost bowing. Jareth tried not to allow his surprise to show, it had been many years since anyone had shown him such respect, if at all, he was used only to a slight nodding of the head, he'd forgotten the feeling it inspired. Fellowship, belonging, two things he had nothing of. Curious, he returned the gesture, to the exact degree to which it had been given, also a gesture he hadn't shown any, since last he'd been before his father in the Faerie Court. "Prince Kairyn. To what do I owe the pleasure?" Despite the openly friendly beginning, Jareth could not help the mocking sarcasm that leaked through his tone into his words.
The figure ignored the possible insult, cocked his head as if listening, pausing to consider what to say, how much to reveal. The stance he took was by far the boldest since Sarah had come, "Jareth, I presume you too have felt the brunt of the storm, in my youth and lack of experience, can I ask you to confirm my fear, that it was a maelstrom? A true maelstrom? Not a created magestorm. but true chaos unleashed upon our kingdoms?" Jareth raised an eyebrow, seeing that the young prince made no move to disguise his fear at the prospect of a true maelstrom, and his honesty about his knowledge. What he didn't realise is that far too fae even knew of, let alone believed in the concept of the maelstrom, true chaos of magic unleashed. Now, it was little more than rarely told myth.
"Yes." He answered simply, before continuing. "You are correct, and more insightful than many of your peers. You also face me, despite my past deeds and reputation, why?" The Goblin King paused, "Think carefully, for your answer will determine my next decision." Prince Kairyn blanched slightly, his already pale face, paling further still, his ice blue eyes standing out, overtly showing his confusion. He didn't answer straight away; instead he turned away, walked to the window overlooking the labyrinth, and in the far horizon, his own kingdom. He stood there for a few long minutes, Jareth refrained from demanding his response - the youth intrigued him. Finally the Prince turned to face him again, answering softly, and by no means confidently, though determination was evident in his expression.
"You are one of the elder of the long lived fae, you command mastery of many disciplines of magic, more than most other fae - even the mages. For all the tales of your misdeeds, your temper and cruelty, though rightfully feared, I cannot believe that it is all of you. I cannot believe that you would carelessly throw away your kingdom, or the innocent lives of your goblins, indeed I would hazard a guess that you would not needlessly throw away any innocent life. I humbly offer you my loyalty, as my own minor gift in Telling has indicated to me that it is not through the High King that we will prevail against the foretold war. It will be through you."
This time Jareth was unable to let his surprise stay hidden. "You know this to be true Prince?" His voice was hard, though Kairyn could detect and air of urgency beneath the cold calm exterior. "You have seen, that we will prevail?" The Goblin King's mismatched eyes bore into his, demanding his response, holding him a helpless captive to the elder fae. "N-no, at least. not the way you describe it. b-but yes, I have seen, and the Gift of Telling runs strongly in our family, I am the strongest since my grandmother, she thinks I will surpass her still, she told me to remind you that she defended you to the Court, asked me to convey her blessings. She wanted you to remember her, and advise me. my father has none of her wisdom nor forethought, she fears for our kingdom, for the Underground." The Prince wept, his youth even more evident by his outburst, shaken by the will of the Goblin King "I have not seen that you will prevail, only that if we are to survive at all, it can only be through you. The High King has not the power nor strength nor insight to serve us. My vision speaks that you have what he lacks."
For long minutes, Jareth said nothing. Then abruptly he spoke. "I remember your grandmother. Lilythe. still one of the fairest fae, and now, also one of the wisest, more than once she spoke for me, they never listened, but they could also not dismiss her words, she is known as one of the great Seers. By suggesting you will surpass her, it seems you will also have this same potential, both for use and misuse." He sighed, a frown marring his beautiful face, before continuing. "How many know of your talent?"
"My grandmother. she would not let me reveal it elsewhere, although I faulted her for her secrecy, I begin to understand." The Prince's expression was openly fearful, though trust was beginning to grow, beneath the surface. "We will keep it that way. I too have worried about the upcoming war, and though I do not know what I may do to prevent it, or sate it quickly, I am grateful for the support of the Seers." Almost to himself, Jareth continued, not realising Kairyn still listened. "Perhaps it is time for the pain of anathema to be washed away, festering wounds healed and justice seen." His voice trailed off, his gaze upon the crystal he twirled idly in his hand.
Looking up again he spoke, voice almost overwhelming in its intensity, too many powerful combinations wrought in one creature, even if that creature be one of the fae. "The storms will continue, though I am trying to develop a means of defence, I have so far had little success. Do not use magical wards, the storm will eat them, refrain from magic use as much as possible, again it draws the storms, other than taking cover and waiting out the violence, there is little more you can do." "Thank you, Highness, that is something at least. the Lorin though still governed by my father, nonetheless trust me and I am confident they will also give their loyalty in trust to you. All feel the terror of the war as it travels closer, we do not wish it to destroy us, and thus we must trust you, The Anathema, with our fates." The Lorin Prince bowed again, giving full respect before leaving through the gate still shimmering behind him.
Waving a hand negligently, the gate closed and for many hours the Goblin King sat and contemplated the many possibilities before him, and above all the war, so mysterious and ambiguous in nature, so difficult to define, let alone defeat. It wasn't until the cool light of dawn washed over Jareth's still form that he awoke stiff and sore from sleeping lounged over his throne. Slowly he rose and retired to his apartments to bathe and dress. There were preparations, however inadequate, to be made. Prince Kairyn's visit had left him shocked, further still the words of Lilythe - whom no one ignored and had fortune favour them. While he had no idea of their true motive, nor the truth of their words, there had been nothing of deceit in the boy's scent, nothing malice nor air of manipulation about him. For now, it was wiser to wait, and trust.
Again on his throne, Jareth looked even wearier, even his beautiful, mismatched eyes lacked their cruel edge for exhaustion. He half listened to reports while he contemplated his next move, goblins wanting restitution, extra hands to rebuild and above all, wanting reason and reassurance that it wouldn't happen again. Promises he couldn't give. He authorised monetary restitution, delegated one of the senior goblins to organise work parties to repair the worst of the damage, all the while avoiding any mention of why, or reassurance of never again.
The request chime sounded throughout the room. Jareth looked up and allowed a gate to open for whoever it was requesting an audience. Little though he looked forward to a repeat of the previous performance of the pompous messenger, he also craved release from worry and the feeling that he was helpless on his own to stand against the coming war. The bygone storm had been but one warning, one indication that it was much, much closer than any had first supposed.
"Your Highness." Came a clear voice, smooth and masculine it also held the lilting character of sensuality. The tall fae figure inclined his head, almost bowing. Jareth tried not to allow his surprise to show, it had been many years since anyone had shown him such respect, if at all, he was used only to a slight nodding of the head, he'd forgotten the feeling it inspired. Fellowship, belonging, two things he had nothing of. Curious, he returned the gesture, to the exact degree to which it had been given, also a gesture he hadn't shown any, since last he'd been before his father in the Faerie Court. "Prince Kairyn. To what do I owe the pleasure?" Despite the openly friendly beginning, Jareth could not help the mocking sarcasm that leaked through his tone into his words.
The figure ignored the possible insult, cocked his head as if listening, pausing to consider what to say, how much to reveal. The stance he took was by far the boldest since Sarah had come, "Jareth, I presume you too have felt the brunt of the storm, in my youth and lack of experience, can I ask you to confirm my fear, that it was a maelstrom? A true maelstrom? Not a created magestorm. but true chaos unleashed upon our kingdoms?" Jareth raised an eyebrow, seeing that the young prince made no move to disguise his fear at the prospect of a true maelstrom, and his honesty about his knowledge. What he didn't realise is that far too fae even knew of, let alone believed in the concept of the maelstrom, true chaos of magic unleashed. Now, it was little more than rarely told myth.
"Yes." He answered simply, before continuing. "You are correct, and more insightful than many of your peers. You also face me, despite my past deeds and reputation, why?" The Goblin King paused, "Think carefully, for your answer will determine my next decision." Prince Kairyn blanched slightly, his already pale face, paling further still, his ice blue eyes standing out, overtly showing his confusion. He didn't answer straight away; instead he turned away, walked to the window overlooking the labyrinth, and in the far horizon, his own kingdom. He stood there for a few long minutes, Jareth refrained from demanding his response - the youth intrigued him. Finally the Prince turned to face him again, answering softly, and by no means confidently, though determination was evident in his expression.
"You are one of the elder of the long lived fae, you command mastery of many disciplines of magic, more than most other fae - even the mages. For all the tales of your misdeeds, your temper and cruelty, though rightfully feared, I cannot believe that it is all of you. I cannot believe that you would carelessly throw away your kingdom, or the innocent lives of your goblins, indeed I would hazard a guess that you would not needlessly throw away any innocent life. I humbly offer you my loyalty, as my own minor gift in Telling has indicated to me that it is not through the High King that we will prevail against the foretold war. It will be through you."
This time Jareth was unable to let his surprise stay hidden. "You know this to be true Prince?" His voice was hard, though Kairyn could detect and air of urgency beneath the cold calm exterior. "You have seen, that we will prevail?" The Goblin King's mismatched eyes bore into his, demanding his response, holding him a helpless captive to the elder fae. "N-no, at least. not the way you describe it. b-but yes, I have seen, and the Gift of Telling runs strongly in our family, I am the strongest since my grandmother, she thinks I will surpass her still, she told me to remind you that she defended you to the Court, asked me to convey her blessings. She wanted you to remember her, and advise me. my father has none of her wisdom nor forethought, she fears for our kingdom, for the Underground." The Prince wept, his youth even more evident by his outburst, shaken by the will of the Goblin King "I have not seen that you will prevail, only that if we are to survive at all, it can only be through you. The High King has not the power nor strength nor insight to serve us. My vision speaks that you have what he lacks."
For long minutes, Jareth said nothing. Then abruptly he spoke. "I remember your grandmother. Lilythe. still one of the fairest fae, and now, also one of the wisest, more than once she spoke for me, they never listened, but they could also not dismiss her words, she is known as one of the great Seers. By suggesting you will surpass her, it seems you will also have this same potential, both for use and misuse." He sighed, a frown marring his beautiful face, before continuing. "How many know of your talent?"
"My grandmother. she would not let me reveal it elsewhere, although I faulted her for her secrecy, I begin to understand." The Prince's expression was openly fearful, though trust was beginning to grow, beneath the surface. "We will keep it that way. I too have worried about the upcoming war, and though I do not know what I may do to prevent it, or sate it quickly, I am grateful for the support of the Seers." Almost to himself, Jareth continued, not realising Kairyn still listened. "Perhaps it is time for the pain of anathema to be washed away, festering wounds healed and justice seen." His voice trailed off, his gaze upon the crystal he twirled idly in his hand.
Looking up again he spoke, voice almost overwhelming in its intensity, too many powerful combinations wrought in one creature, even if that creature be one of the fae. "The storms will continue, though I am trying to develop a means of defence, I have so far had little success. Do not use magical wards, the storm will eat them, refrain from magic use as much as possible, again it draws the storms, other than taking cover and waiting out the violence, there is little more you can do." "Thank you, Highness, that is something at least. the Lorin though still governed by my father, nonetheless trust me and I am confident they will also give their loyalty in trust to you. All feel the terror of the war as it travels closer, we do not wish it to destroy us, and thus we must trust you, The Anathema, with our fates." The Lorin Prince bowed again, giving full respect before leaving through the gate still shimmering behind him.
Waving a hand negligently, the gate closed and for many hours the Goblin King sat and contemplated the many possibilities before him, and above all the war, so mysterious and ambiguous in nature, so difficult to define, let alone defeat. It wasn't until the cool light of dawn washed over Jareth's still form that he awoke stiff and sore from sleeping lounged over his throne. Slowly he rose and retired to his apartments to bathe and dress. There were preparations, however inadequate, to be made. Prince Kairyn's visit had left him shocked, further still the words of Lilythe - whom no one ignored and had fortune favour them. While he had no idea of their true motive, nor the truth of their words, there had been nothing of deceit in the boy's scent, nothing malice nor air of manipulation about him. For now, it was wiser to wait, and trust.