Thank you to you all, to Thuringwen, Orphelia-Rose, Pretty Pilot, Draegon
Fire, and Ittle-Bird. If anyone has any suggestions or would like to see
anything in particular, let me know. But here is where our conflict will
arise.
I own nothing – yada yada.
Chapter 4: Machinations
Mavin sat in her boudoir, adding another layer of shimmering powder to her face, neck, and bosom, her thin blue silk robe, hanging wide open. Her midnight black hair hung in loose waves, cascading down her back to pool at her waist where she sat. Open on her vanity lay a letter, inscribed with the house seal of del Valensaulthe, the owl. Mavin smiled at herself in the mirror, she really was quite lovely, her pale skin, dark hair and eyes, she would compliment his fairness perfectly.
She read the letter again, wickedly smiling to herself.
To the mistress of house Oulendies, the Lady Mavin;
Her royal Majesty Gwyndolyn del Valensaulthe, Queen of the
Underground has received your request, and has given her consent
to propose the arrangement of a betrothal between the Lady Mavin
Oulendies and King Jareth del Valensaulthe of the Labyrinth
Providence. The Queen and King del Valensaulthe shall seek
their son's approval three days hence at the Elfin Masquerade.
Her royal Majesty del Valensaulthe assures the Lady Mavin that
she shall discuss the matter in full with King Jareth del
Valensaulthe and that, barring any sudden or unforeseen
circumstances, he will consider the option and at that time may
choose to accept. The Queen is very pleased with all you have
done for the Royal Family thus far and assures you that she will
speak highly on your behalf to his majesty, King Jareth del
Valensaulthe.
Lady Altrara, Fist Scribe to the Queen
Mavin pouted for a second, rereading the one of the last lines, "Barring any sudden or unforeseen circumstances, hmmmmm that just will not do. Damincan!" She screamed. "DAMICAN, I NEED YOU IN HERE NOW!"
A man with short whisping black hair and pale eyes appeared before Mavin, leaning against the wall, taking in the scene with a very bored expression on his gaunt face. Unlike Mavin's delicate curvingly soft features, his face was angular, hawklike. He looked his step-sister up and down and licked his lips. "You really should reconsider your views on your relationships with family, my love." Stepping closer to her and resting his hands on her shoulders, he began to massage them, "Oh the things I would do to you..."
Exasperated, Mavin shrugged off his arms. Whining, she glared up at her step-brother "Stop it will you? I told you already, once this is done, once you have fulfilled your part, I will repay you." She turned to face him, letting her silken rob slip down to reveal the very top of her nipple, baiting him, "However you would like." Seeing she had her desired effect, she pulled the back up around her form tightly, "But I need some of the serum. I have to make sure the king lives a little while longer – just until I can secure my love. Once we are married, he will realize what he has been missing all of these years pining away for the mortal bitch who scorned him. So hand it over."
Not taking his eyes from the rounding of her breast visible through the thin material he continued, bringing his hands up, wanting to grab her "You know, dear sister, just because he danced with you once, doesn't mean anything – he dances with a......"
Her hand connected with his face in a vicious slap. Rage burned in her black eyes and she nearly shook with anger, "SHUT UP! Shut up or I swear I will.....He loves me Damican – I felt it when he held me and I have seen it in his eyes. He loves me and I will accept nothing less than his entire heart and soul. The serum. Give me the serum now." She demanded, covering her chest with one arm while holding her hand expectantly out. Sometime's she hated her mother for remarrying after her father had disappeared. If she hadn't remarried, then Mavin wouldn't have to deal with Damican's constant leering. Although she had to admit, he was handsome and he did come in handy from time to time.
Damican's tongue snaked out and licked the blood from his cheek, and he grabbed his step-sister's waist and pulled her close, letting his lips fall on her neck as he spoke "You know, the Queen will only go along with this until her husband can speak again, once she discovers that his illness has stemmed from the very treatment you claim to be providing, she will turn on you, of this there is little doubt. Then there will be hell to pay, my little Raven. But don't worry, I will still want you." He let her go and handed her the small vial of purple liquid, smiling as he noticed that her eyes had closed. "You can't tell me it doesn't feel good when I touch you."
"Only because I pretend you are Jareth." She growled, pushing him away.
"Oh well. Too bad, my little raven. Anyway, it still doesn't help your situation. When the King recovers, you are ousted."
"Then he will just have to die shortly after we are married, won't he?" Mavin's eyes were large and innocent. "Now go, I am sure I will have to make a house call shortly and I would hate to have your scent on me. Get out.......NOW."
"You know I love it when you order me about." And with that he was gone, leaving Mavin alone once more.
It had been two years, two years of steadily poisoning the King of the Underground. Seven years ago, at a masked ball, Jareth had danced with her. He had held her in his strong arms, and they had nearly kissed, would have if that bastard prince Ronin had not shown up and dragged him away from her embrace. Oh but she knew, knew that he had wanted to kiss her, but it was not time yet. His poor heart was still healing from that wretched whore mortal that had spurned him. Mavin sighed. It was then that she had decided what had to be done.
Her family, mother and new father, were lesser nobles in the court, and her mother's family had always been renowned healers, a profession that granted them access to many secrets within the kingdom. She had needed a way to endear herself to the ruling family, and an opportunity had presented itself to her in due time. Slowly, over the years, through careful political maneuvering she had befriended a hand maiden to the queen. She bided her time, and when the King had become slightly ill over a meal or some other trivial matter, the maiden insisted that a healer be called. The maiden had claimed that the royal healer was unavailable, and had suggested that house Oulendies be contacted immediately. Mavin responded, appeared wholly sympathetic and healed the King. The royal family was so impressed by her courtly manner and attention to care and detail that she was soon being called upon regularly for everything that happened at the Royal Estate – no matter who was injured. For over a year Mavin had proved herself invaluable to the King and Queen.
But even patience had its lengths. The King, an expert equestrian, rode nearly daily when affairs permitted it. It had only taken a few coins and a kiss to convince a young stable boy to place a burr under the saddle of the Kings favorite mount. The horse had thrown him, the King was bed ridden, Mavin was called, and the poisoning began. Damican, an alchemist by hobby, simply found a way to place a minute amount of iron into a serum, making it nigh undetectable. Mavin administered the serum, and the King never healed. The Queen too busy running the affairs of the underground and maintaining the charade that the King was well, was far too busy to notice. To busy to notice that over the past two years Mavin had kept the King in a fitful, feverish coma, tossing and turning in a perpetual nightmare. The beauty of the serum that Mavin had been giving was that it always appeared to heal the King, just a bit, but kept him weak and locked in a nightmare coma. His fever would recede, Mavin would work until sweat dripped from her forehead, (a convenient side effect of even being near the iron in the serum) and he would appear to begin to come out of the coma, but would always fall back under. It was perfect. Other healers had been called, but by that time the magic and the iron were so in to his blood, that they were healing for what they thought was a riding accident – not the purging of dark magic and iron. And so it had been for months on end, eventually the others healers, sworn to secrecy, had given up. Only Mavin had remained, the faithful servant to her King.
And then Jareth had come. Mavin remembered the day as if it would last forever in her mind. He had looked directly at her, AT HER, and smiled such a sad half smile. It was well known in the Underground that Jareth and his father were oft at odds, so it seemed perfectly justifiable to Mavin to remove that thorn from Jareth's side – there would be no harm in it. Besides, there was only room in his heart for Her – no others. Mavin was convinced that the grief she saw in Jareth's eyes was contrived, a lovely act for his mother and dear friends, Prince Ronin and Princess Myra. Myra was a problem to Mavin, the woman was smart, too smart for her own good, and cared very deeply for friends and family, and she didn't trust Mavin. She had asked on more than one occasion just what the healer was doing. She had even gone so far as to try and convince the queen that the King should try and heal on his own. But Mavin had worked her skills all the more deftly, she had laced a last serum with nearly enough iron to kill him, and then, at the bequest of Myra, had taken leave. The King's condition worsened, nearly killing the old fae, and Mavin was again summoned.
That is when Jareth had come – he was so good hearted to come to the bedside of the man she was convinced he loathed. Mavin was convinced that he couldn't possibly love his father – not after all that had transgressed between the two. In a way, she was doing this for Jareth, she told herself. Once the King was gone, he would replace him and they would rule, he would be so grateful when he finally realized all she had done for him, when she would finally tell him all of her efforts.
Mavin smiled thinking of how they would be together soon – how he would ravage her to thank her for all she had done, madly professing his love. He loved her, she knew it, and soon they would be together. Nothing would stop that.
Mavin was almost giddy with her imagined love affair. She dressed quickly in her deep purple healers robes and prepared to leave, vial in hand. She donned the purple cloak with her family's crest emblazoned on the back, the raven. It was time to visit his royal majesty, King of the Underground, her key to all that would be hers. She giggled as she disappeared into nothingness.
xxxxx
Queen Gwyndolyn sat by her husband's side, quietly detailing to him all of the affairs of the day. It was her ritual, somehow, she believed that he heard her, that he would come out of whatever it was that had over taken his body. In the past few days, his fever had begun to recede and she was ever hopeful that her love would one day open his eyes and all would be well again. She had sent for Mavin to come, to monitor the progress, as he seemed to be getting stronger. She prayed that all would be well this time.
Three days ago, Mavin had asked the Queen to suggest the idea of a marriage between herself and King Jareth. The Queen's initial reaction had been one of anger, but when she had calmed herself she had agree, knowing her son would immediately dash the idea, assured the girl that she would propose the idea to him – she did not want to give her false hope, but at the same time, did not want to lose the only healer that had any affect on her husband. She knew her son, and he would never consent to marriage, not unless it was with the mystery woman of whom he never spoke.
Gwyndolyn sighed and rubbed her temples. She was a queen and as such she would not allow her sorrow to overtake her, but she was also a woman grieving for a husband who she was forced to watch wither before her eyes. She laid her head upon his chest and listened again to his heart. She had tried time and again to enter his dreams, but it appeared as though he could not be reached. A soft knock on the door startled her from her respite.
"Come." It never failed to startle her just how quiet her voice became when she was in the silence of her dearest love's chamber.
Myra quietly opened the door, walking silently over to where the queen sat beside the sweat drenched king of the Underground. Her kind, always delicate, ever beautiful, moved with a grace almost ethereal. She came often to visit the queen, always dressed in dark blues or grays to echo her concern. Today was no different. Her gown was a deep pewter, and her light cloak black, contrasting sharply with her red-gold locks that fell the middle of her back. Her green eyes implored her majesty for some sign of hope as she pulled a chair to sit in front of her queen and took her hands.
"How does he fair? Is today any better?"
"He seems better today Myra, thank you for coming again. You have always been so good to us." The queen looked to the elvin princess, smiling softly. Their families had always been close and Myra and Jareth had grown up together. It had been her hope that the two would fall in love and wed, but she was contented that Jareth and Myra had remained friends.
"Then you have no need to call that healer, my Queen." Myra's voice was hopeful. She trusted the bloody wench about as far as she could throw her and would give anything to be alone with her for five minutes to determine just what was in those vials she kept bringing – that and to kick the black haired devil right into Jareth's Bog. Something about her scraped at Myra's nerves.
"On the contrary, I have called her in hopes that she will speed the recovery process. He actually has color in his cheeks today, Myra." The queen sighed, pulling back her hands, tears were forming in her eyes, and she knew in her heart that her hopes would once more be shattered, but she had to keep hoping. 'What is there without hope, mother?' Jareth had said that to her. He didn't come as often as she would have liked, but he did come, and had given her reason to keep believing that her husband would recover.
"My Queen, we have been over this before, and you know I only have your best interests in mind. Please, I am appealing to you practicality, my Queen, your husband has always been strong, let him finish healing without her. I do not trust her. Something about her is wrong, there is a darkness that emanates from her, I can feel it."
"Enough!" The Queen looked up, her face the same cold stone mask she had seen Jareth employ a thousand times. "Myra, I appreciate your concern and the empathic abilities of your family are well known and trusted, but in this case, I cannot rely on your 'feelings'. I trust her implicitly Myra, so much so that I have even granted her a small request."
Ever concerned, Myra implored, "And what request would a healer have for you, your Majesty?"
"It is nothing, and nothing will come from it, but she has asked that I approach my son to see if he would consider a marriage to her." Myra's jaw dropped to the floor. "He will say no, but it is the least I can do, she has been so kind and generous. And it would do Jareth's heart good to at least consider marriage."
"Your Majesty, you cannot be serious....she's....she's......your majesty she's just.....she's nasty!" It was the only word that came to mind, vile, evil, manipulative, repulsive, not to mention the rumors of her and her step- brother, the thought of which gave her chills. Myra wanted desperately to scream all of these things at the sensibilities of the Queen, but such was not an appropriate way to behave in the presence of a grieving wife.
"Enough Myra, please. I know Jareth will never consider such a thing. But Mavin will be here soon, she has been the only one to help my husband. Please, you know I think of you as my daughter, do not push me again on this matter."
"Yes, my Queen." Myra made a not to tell Jareth immediately of this – she would go there tonight. Ronin was probably there anyway. There was no way she was letting that carrion bird into the house del Valensaulthe – not as long as she had a breath in her. Jareth was her brother as far as she was concerened.
Another knock at the door startled both women and then turned as Mavin walked in, unanswered, looking concerned and hopeful. She dipped into a deep curtsey once in the chamber.
"My Queen, I have come at your urgent summons." Mavin's smile was hidden in her deep bow.
"You may rise and approach Lady Healer. Please, I implore that you speed his recovery, his fever has faded and he is stronger, I know it. Can you do anything?" The Queen looked hopefully at the deep purple robed woman who rose and approached the bed.
"I believe you are right, your highest majesty! He appears stronger already. I will apply another spell and some more seru...."
"Why not try to just let him fight it on his own, healer? I hear there are many other more experienced healers that say the fae are resilient creatures, that they heal well given time, that the very magic of the Underground can heal them." Myra glared at the dark haired healer. Under her breath she added "They don't need grave robbers before they have even passed on."
Mavin bowed deeply, "Forgive me Princess, was it Mina?" she began in her sweetest voice, purposefully mispronouncing her name, "but my family have been healers for centuries. You are also Elvin, are you not? I could tell by how fragile you look" Myra withheld the urge to leap arcross the room and place a fist right in the middle of Mavin's self-righteous smile. "The fae body is much different than your delicate race, much less in tune with the natural magics....and.....it is best if, we, if we continue the treatment that has progressed the King this far. I am only looking out for his best interest, he is my King as well. But if her Majesty would prefer, I can hold off on administering the..."
"No Mavin, you may continue." The Queen proclaimed, shooting a warning glance at Myra. All three women stood at the bed. Mavin laid her hands upon the shoulders of the King and proceeded to weave a spell. As the magic flowed from her into the King, his eyes began to flutter and ribbons of light purple and black energy engulfed the two. Suddenly the King's eyes shot open, and he stared in terror at Mavin, his eyes darting to his Queen and to Myra, a single word forming on his lips in a rasping whisper, 'help'. Mavin smiled and let the magic flow through her more fully, forcing the King back down into his nightmare. His eyes closed again, and he looked at peace. She pulled the vial from her cloak and laced his lips again with the fluid, letting it sink into his mouth.
"Oh my queen, did you see? Did you hear? He knows I am helping him, he is healing! Within a month, I know he will be fully healed." Mavin exclaimed excited, bowing again, spinning the words so that the Queen would think her helping the bedridden ruler.
Tears brimming her eyes, the Queen laid a kiss upon her husband's head. She walked to Mavin and laid a kiss on her cheek, overcome with emotion she dismissed herself from the room to compose herself.
Myra walked up to the healer, a glare on her face. Then to Mavin's shock and surprise she wrapped her arms around her in an all encompassing hug, burying her hands in the folds of the healer's cloak. "Thank you! Thank you so much Lady Mavin! I know I doubted you, but I was wrong. You have brought him back and the kingdom will thank you – they will thank you, I thank you. Oh Lady Healer, you and your family are amazing, truly amazing. Please forgive me for ever doubting you!" Myra pulled away, tears lining her eyes. "You will have to excuse me, I need to tell Ronin." Myra disappeared from sight then, leaving the healer alone in the room with the King.
Leaning over and whispering into the Kings ear, Mavin smiled ear to ear, "It's really too bad you will never get to call me daughter, dad." Laughing, proud of herself for her performance, Mavin gathered her cloak about her, prepared to leave, when the King's hand shot out and grabbed her wrist. "They will know......." Was all he could say before the fever overtook him again, and he sunk into a pitched nightmare coma once more. "And who will tell them, old man, you?"
Giggling like a faerie, Mavin disappeared, thoughts of her wedding to the Goblin King dancing in her mind.
xxxxxxxxx
Wrapping her black cloak around her tightly, Myra stared at the vial she had picked off of the healer. There was just enough of the serum in the bottom. She had to take it to Ronin and Jareth and quickly. A smile spread across her seemingly innocent and sweet face. If she was right, she held the cure to the King in her hand. She only hoped it was not too late.
I own nothing – yada yada.
Chapter 4: Machinations
Mavin sat in her boudoir, adding another layer of shimmering powder to her face, neck, and bosom, her thin blue silk robe, hanging wide open. Her midnight black hair hung in loose waves, cascading down her back to pool at her waist where she sat. Open on her vanity lay a letter, inscribed with the house seal of del Valensaulthe, the owl. Mavin smiled at herself in the mirror, she really was quite lovely, her pale skin, dark hair and eyes, she would compliment his fairness perfectly.
She read the letter again, wickedly smiling to herself.
To the mistress of house Oulendies, the Lady Mavin;
Her royal Majesty Gwyndolyn del Valensaulthe, Queen of the
Underground has received your request, and has given her consent
to propose the arrangement of a betrothal between the Lady Mavin
Oulendies and King Jareth del Valensaulthe of the Labyrinth
Providence. The Queen and King del Valensaulthe shall seek
their son's approval three days hence at the Elfin Masquerade.
Her royal Majesty del Valensaulthe assures the Lady Mavin that
she shall discuss the matter in full with King Jareth del
Valensaulthe and that, barring any sudden or unforeseen
circumstances, he will consider the option and at that time may
choose to accept. The Queen is very pleased with all you have
done for the Royal Family thus far and assures you that she will
speak highly on your behalf to his majesty, King Jareth del
Valensaulthe.
Lady Altrara, Fist Scribe to the Queen
Mavin pouted for a second, rereading the one of the last lines, "Barring any sudden or unforeseen circumstances, hmmmmm that just will not do. Damincan!" She screamed. "DAMICAN, I NEED YOU IN HERE NOW!"
A man with short whisping black hair and pale eyes appeared before Mavin, leaning against the wall, taking in the scene with a very bored expression on his gaunt face. Unlike Mavin's delicate curvingly soft features, his face was angular, hawklike. He looked his step-sister up and down and licked his lips. "You really should reconsider your views on your relationships with family, my love." Stepping closer to her and resting his hands on her shoulders, he began to massage them, "Oh the things I would do to you..."
Exasperated, Mavin shrugged off his arms. Whining, she glared up at her step-brother "Stop it will you? I told you already, once this is done, once you have fulfilled your part, I will repay you." She turned to face him, letting her silken rob slip down to reveal the very top of her nipple, baiting him, "However you would like." Seeing she had her desired effect, she pulled the back up around her form tightly, "But I need some of the serum. I have to make sure the king lives a little while longer – just until I can secure my love. Once we are married, he will realize what he has been missing all of these years pining away for the mortal bitch who scorned him. So hand it over."
Not taking his eyes from the rounding of her breast visible through the thin material he continued, bringing his hands up, wanting to grab her "You know, dear sister, just because he danced with you once, doesn't mean anything – he dances with a......"
Her hand connected with his face in a vicious slap. Rage burned in her black eyes and she nearly shook with anger, "SHUT UP! Shut up or I swear I will.....He loves me Damican – I felt it when he held me and I have seen it in his eyes. He loves me and I will accept nothing less than his entire heart and soul. The serum. Give me the serum now." She demanded, covering her chest with one arm while holding her hand expectantly out. Sometime's she hated her mother for remarrying after her father had disappeared. If she hadn't remarried, then Mavin wouldn't have to deal with Damican's constant leering. Although she had to admit, he was handsome and he did come in handy from time to time.
Damican's tongue snaked out and licked the blood from his cheek, and he grabbed his step-sister's waist and pulled her close, letting his lips fall on her neck as he spoke "You know, the Queen will only go along with this until her husband can speak again, once she discovers that his illness has stemmed from the very treatment you claim to be providing, she will turn on you, of this there is little doubt. Then there will be hell to pay, my little Raven. But don't worry, I will still want you." He let her go and handed her the small vial of purple liquid, smiling as he noticed that her eyes had closed. "You can't tell me it doesn't feel good when I touch you."
"Only because I pretend you are Jareth." She growled, pushing him away.
"Oh well. Too bad, my little raven. Anyway, it still doesn't help your situation. When the King recovers, you are ousted."
"Then he will just have to die shortly after we are married, won't he?" Mavin's eyes were large and innocent. "Now go, I am sure I will have to make a house call shortly and I would hate to have your scent on me. Get out.......NOW."
"You know I love it when you order me about." And with that he was gone, leaving Mavin alone once more.
It had been two years, two years of steadily poisoning the King of the Underground. Seven years ago, at a masked ball, Jareth had danced with her. He had held her in his strong arms, and they had nearly kissed, would have if that bastard prince Ronin had not shown up and dragged him away from her embrace. Oh but she knew, knew that he had wanted to kiss her, but it was not time yet. His poor heart was still healing from that wretched whore mortal that had spurned him. Mavin sighed. It was then that she had decided what had to be done.
Her family, mother and new father, were lesser nobles in the court, and her mother's family had always been renowned healers, a profession that granted them access to many secrets within the kingdom. She had needed a way to endear herself to the ruling family, and an opportunity had presented itself to her in due time. Slowly, over the years, through careful political maneuvering she had befriended a hand maiden to the queen. She bided her time, and when the King had become slightly ill over a meal or some other trivial matter, the maiden insisted that a healer be called. The maiden had claimed that the royal healer was unavailable, and had suggested that house Oulendies be contacted immediately. Mavin responded, appeared wholly sympathetic and healed the King. The royal family was so impressed by her courtly manner and attention to care and detail that she was soon being called upon regularly for everything that happened at the Royal Estate – no matter who was injured. For over a year Mavin had proved herself invaluable to the King and Queen.
But even patience had its lengths. The King, an expert equestrian, rode nearly daily when affairs permitted it. It had only taken a few coins and a kiss to convince a young stable boy to place a burr under the saddle of the Kings favorite mount. The horse had thrown him, the King was bed ridden, Mavin was called, and the poisoning began. Damican, an alchemist by hobby, simply found a way to place a minute amount of iron into a serum, making it nigh undetectable. Mavin administered the serum, and the King never healed. The Queen too busy running the affairs of the underground and maintaining the charade that the King was well, was far too busy to notice. To busy to notice that over the past two years Mavin had kept the King in a fitful, feverish coma, tossing and turning in a perpetual nightmare. The beauty of the serum that Mavin had been giving was that it always appeared to heal the King, just a bit, but kept him weak and locked in a nightmare coma. His fever would recede, Mavin would work until sweat dripped from her forehead, (a convenient side effect of even being near the iron in the serum) and he would appear to begin to come out of the coma, but would always fall back under. It was perfect. Other healers had been called, but by that time the magic and the iron were so in to his blood, that they were healing for what they thought was a riding accident – not the purging of dark magic and iron. And so it had been for months on end, eventually the others healers, sworn to secrecy, had given up. Only Mavin had remained, the faithful servant to her King.
And then Jareth had come. Mavin remembered the day as if it would last forever in her mind. He had looked directly at her, AT HER, and smiled such a sad half smile. It was well known in the Underground that Jareth and his father were oft at odds, so it seemed perfectly justifiable to Mavin to remove that thorn from Jareth's side – there would be no harm in it. Besides, there was only room in his heart for Her – no others. Mavin was convinced that the grief she saw in Jareth's eyes was contrived, a lovely act for his mother and dear friends, Prince Ronin and Princess Myra. Myra was a problem to Mavin, the woman was smart, too smart for her own good, and cared very deeply for friends and family, and she didn't trust Mavin. She had asked on more than one occasion just what the healer was doing. She had even gone so far as to try and convince the queen that the King should try and heal on his own. But Mavin had worked her skills all the more deftly, she had laced a last serum with nearly enough iron to kill him, and then, at the bequest of Myra, had taken leave. The King's condition worsened, nearly killing the old fae, and Mavin was again summoned.
That is when Jareth had come – he was so good hearted to come to the bedside of the man she was convinced he loathed. Mavin was convinced that he couldn't possibly love his father – not after all that had transgressed between the two. In a way, she was doing this for Jareth, she told herself. Once the King was gone, he would replace him and they would rule, he would be so grateful when he finally realized all she had done for him, when she would finally tell him all of her efforts.
Mavin smiled thinking of how they would be together soon – how he would ravage her to thank her for all she had done, madly professing his love. He loved her, she knew it, and soon they would be together. Nothing would stop that.
Mavin was almost giddy with her imagined love affair. She dressed quickly in her deep purple healers robes and prepared to leave, vial in hand. She donned the purple cloak with her family's crest emblazoned on the back, the raven. It was time to visit his royal majesty, King of the Underground, her key to all that would be hers. She giggled as she disappeared into nothingness.
xxxxx
Queen Gwyndolyn sat by her husband's side, quietly detailing to him all of the affairs of the day. It was her ritual, somehow, she believed that he heard her, that he would come out of whatever it was that had over taken his body. In the past few days, his fever had begun to recede and she was ever hopeful that her love would one day open his eyes and all would be well again. She had sent for Mavin to come, to monitor the progress, as he seemed to be getting stronger. She prayed that all would be well this time.
Three days ago, Mavin had asked the Queen to suggest the idea of a marriage between herself and King Jareth. The Queen's initial reaction had been one of anger, but when she had calmed herself she had agree, knowing her son would immediately dash the idea, assured the girl that she would propose the idea to him – she did not want to give her false hope, but at the same time, did not want to lose the only healer that had any affect on her husband. She knew her son, and he would never consent to marriage, not unless it was with the mystery woman of whom he never spoke.
Gwyndolyn sighed and rubbed her temples. She was a queen and as such she would not allow her sorrow to overtake her, but she was also a woman grieving for a husband who she was forced to watch wither before her eyes. She laid her head upon his chest and listened again to his heart. She had tried time and again to enter his dreams, but it appeared as though he could not be reached. A soft knock on the door startled her from her respite.
"Come." It never failed to startle her just how quiet her voice became when she was in the silence of her dearest love's chamber.
Myra quietly opened the door, walking silently over to where the queen sat beside the sweat drenched king of the Underground. Her kind, always delicate, ever beautiful, moved with a grace almost ethereal. She came often to visit the queen, always dressed in dark blues or grays to echo her concern. Today was no different. Her gown was a deep pewter, and her light cloak black, contrasting sharply with her red-gold locks that fell the middle of her back. Her green eyes implored her majesty for some sign of hope as she pulled a chair to sit in front of her queen and took her hands.
"How does he fair? Is today any better?"
"He seems better today Myra, thank you for coming again. You have always been so good to us." The queen looked to the elvin princess, smiling softly. Their families had always been close and Myra and Jareth had grown up together. It had been her hope that the two would fall in love and wed, but she was contented that Jareth and Myra had remained friends.
"Then you have no need to call that healer, my Queen." Myra's voice was hopeful. She trusted the bloody wench about as far as she could throw her and would give anything to be alone with her for five minutes to determine just what was in those vials she kept bringing – that and to kick the black haired devil right into Jareth's Bog. Something about her scraped at Myra's nerves.
"On the contrary, I have called her in hopes that she will speed the recovery process. He actually has color in his cheeks today, Myra." The queen sighed, pulling back her hands, tears were forming in her eyes, and she knew in her heart that her hopes would once more be shattered, but she had to keep hoping. 'What is there without hope, mother?' Jareth had said that to her. He didn't come as often as she would have liked, but he did come, and had given her reason to keep believing that her husband would recover.
"My Queen, we have been over this before, and you know I only have your best interests in mind. Please, I am appealing to you practicality, my Queen, your husband has always been strong, let him finish healing without her. I do not trust her. Something about her is wrong, there is a darkness that emanates from her, I can feel it."
"Enough!" The Queen looked up, her face the same cold stone mask she had seen Jareth employ a thousand times. "Myra, I appreciate your concern and the empathic abilities of your family are well known and trusted, but in this case, I cannot rely on your 'feelings'. I trust her implicitly Myra, so much so that I have even granted her a small request."
Ever concerned, Myra implored, "And what request would a healer have for you, your Majesty?"
"It is nothing, and nothing will come from it, but she has asked that I approach my son to see if he would consider a marriage to her." Myra's jaw dropped to the floor. "He will say no, but it is the least I can do, she has been so kind and generous. And it would do Jareth's heart good to at least consider marriage."
"Your Majesty, you cannot be serious....she's....she's......your majesty she's just.....she's nasty!" It was the only word that came to mind, vile, evil, manipulative, repulsive, not to mention the rumors of her and her step- brother, the thought of which gave her chills. Myra wanted desperately to scream all of these things at the sensibilities of the Queen, but such was not an appropriate way to behave in the presence of a grieving wife.
"Enough Myra, please. I know Jareth will never consider such a thing. But Mavin will be here soon, she has been the only one to help my husband. Please, you know I think of you as my daughter, do not push me again on this matter."
"Yes, my Queen." Myra made a not to tell Jareth immediately of this – she would go there tonight. Ronin was probably there anyway. There was no way she was letting that carrion bird into the house del Valensaulthe – not as long as she had a breath in her. Jareth was her brother as far as she was concerened.
Another knock at the door startled both women and then turned as Mavin walked in, unanswered, looking concerned and hopeful. She dipped into a deep curtsey once in the chamber.
"My Queen, I have come at your urgent summons." Mavin's smile was hidden in her deep bow.
"You may rise and approach Lady Healer. Please, I implore that you speed his recovery, his fever has faded and he is stronger, I know it. Can you do anything?" The Queen looked hopefully at the deep purple robed woman who rose and approached the bed.
"I believe you are right, your highest majesty! He appears stronger already. I will apply another spell and some more seru...."
"Why not try to just let him fight it on his own, healer? I hear there are many other more experienced healers that say the fae are resilient creatures, that they heal well given time, that the very magic of the Underground can heal them." Myra glared at the dark haired healer. Under her breath she added "They don't need grave robbers before they have even passed on."
Mavin bowed deeply, "Forgive me Princess, was it Mina?" she began in her sweetest voice, purposefully mispronouncing her name, "but my family have been healers for centuries. You are also Elvin, are you not? I could tell by how fragile you look" Myra withheld the urge to leap arcross the room and place a fist right in the middle of Mavin's self-righteous smile. "The fae body is much different than your delicate race, much less in tune with the natural magics....and.....it is best if, we, if we continue the treatment that has progressed the King this far. I am only looking out for his best interest, he is my King as well. But if her Majesty would prefer, I can hold off on administering the..."
"No Mavin, you may continue." The Queen proclaimed, shooting a warning glance at Myra. All three women stood at the bed. Mavin laid her hands upon the shoulders of the King and proceeded to weave a spell. As the magic flowed from her into the King, his eyes began to flutter and ribbons of light purple and black energy engulfed the two. Suddenly the King's eyes shot open, and he stared in terror at Mavin, his eyes darting to his Queen and to Myra, a single word forming on his lips in a rasping whisper, 'help'. Mavin smiled and let the magic flow through her more fully, forcing the King back down into his nightmare. His eyes closed again, and he looked at peace. She pulled the vial from her cloak and laced his lips again with the fluid, letting it sink into his mouth.
"Oh my queen, did you see? Did you hear? He knows I am helping him, he is healing! Within a month, I know he will be fully healed." Mavin exclaimed excited, bowing again, spinning the words so that the Queen would think her helping the bedridden ruler.
Tears brimming her eyes, the Queen laid a kiss upon her husband's head. She walked to Mavin and laid a kiss on her cheek, overcome with emotion she dismissed herself from the room to compose herself.
Myra walked up to the healer, a glare on her face. Then to Mavin's shock and surprise she wrapped her arms around her in an all encompassing hug, burying her hands in the folds of the healer's cloak. "Thank you! Thank you so much Lady Mavin! I know I doubted you, but I was wrong. You have brought him back and the kingdom will thank you – they will thank you, I thank you. Oh Lady Healer, you and your family are amazing, truly amazing. Please forgive me for ever doubting you!" Myra pulled away, tears lining her eyes. "You will have to excuse me, I need to tell Ronin." Myra disappeared from sight then, leaving the healer alone in the room with the King.
Leaning over and whispering into the Kings ear, Mavin smiled ear to ear, "It's really too bad you will never get to call me daughter, dad." Laughing, proud of herself for her performance, Mavin gathered her cloak about her, prepared to leave, when the King's hand shot out and grabbed her wrist. "They will know......." Was all he could say before the fever overtook him again, and he sunk into a pitched nightmare coma once more. "And who will tell them, old man, you?"
Giggling like a faerie, Mavin disappeared, thoughts of her wedding to the Goblin King dancing in her mind.
xxxxxxxxx
Wrapping her black cloak around her tightly, Myra stared at the vial she had picked off of the healer. There was just enough of the serum in the bottom. She had to take it to Ronin and Jareth and quickly. A smile spread across her seemingly innocent and sweet face. If she was right, she held the cure to the King in her hand. She only hoped it was not too late.