The Throne of Flame: Chapter Thirteen
Julien had been in danger from the moment he was in his mother's womb, awful as that was. She was a lithe little thing, and at first, there was concern that she wouldn't be able to give birth to him. An heir to the throne was needed, though, and the witch doctors cared for her like she herself was to be the next king. Seasons of harshness and doubt went by, but by the end of it, it turned out to be okay - better than okay. With many blessings from the Sky Gods, little baby Julien was born.
And he was beautiful. He was the most beautiful thing that ever graced the land of Madagascar.
Miala tsiny aho.
His fur was soft and silky, ashen but smooth. His bushy tail was a wisp of splendor on it's own, velvety and swirling with feeling. His hands were gentle and graceful. His eyes were coy, playful primroses, gold and orange like the sunrise glimmering over the ocean. The more he grew, the more captivating he became. He was like a dream, his beauty so unreal; fiction-like wonder in the form of reality. A gift from the Sky Gods themselves.
Marary aho.
There were few who could resist staring when Julien was around; it was like he had a spell was on all those in his vicinity. He was beauty incarnate, the epitome of perfection; he was effortlessly provocative and irresistible, the zenith of glamor. "Tsara tarehy" - a phrase that fell short of describing how amazing he was. Even his lengthy title to describe his majesty didn't do his true power justice.
A little smile in a commoner's direction could cause them to faint, a flick of the wrist towards another upper class citizen could result in them losing their dignity with the amount of gaping they'd do. Attractive destruction done with a carefree grin of unprecedented power and glory. It was no wonder he was such a controversial subject. One had to wonder if he even knew the true extent of the amazement he caused.
Adiny firy ny mankany?
When his parents were killed by the fossa, all the focus was on him, and it only seemed to magnify his sweet, sweet allure, dark as it may have become from the loss of those closest to him. He was sweet and sad and no one knew, no one but the ones who kept a keen eye on him, and even to them, no one could ever truly be certain if he was acting or being genuine.
The questions flooded the minds of those who met him. Was he real? Was it possible that someone could hold so much power, just in their appearance and virtues? Was he a fantasy that the lemur population collectively held, something intangible in an almost religious way? And the most startling fact was that King Julien was, in fact, real. He was more real to them than the Sky Gods ever were. He was not an illusion, not a mirage, not a fantasy. He existed, and that was enough to take everyone off guard.
Fo no marary. Fikarakarana ve ianao?
His voice, whether thick with his accent or gentle in his native tongue, was like sweet honey of the finest quality. It would bring the loudest commotion to silence in just a whisper, so that all could focus on the words leaving his mouth. They would lean in, ears strained, to hear what he had to say, no matter how simple it was. Even one word could bring all conflict to a halt, would bring violent arguments to peace. He was born with the a grace and power of a God. There was no one more fit for the position of king than he.
Tiako ianao.
His genuine laugh, the laugh that carried musically across a room, like a song caught in the waves of an ocean, it would strike directly to the heart. To be the reason for that laugh was the very reason some so much as spoke to him, even if leagues below his level. Whether effective or not, they were taken by his majestic presence, and would not be able to stop thinking about their experience with King Julien for weeks on end. They were stunned by his mere presence; a glance in their direction from the illustrious king could send their heart into a frenzy. He was an angel.
Tsy mahinan-kanina aho. Tsy mahita torimaso aho.
When Julien danced, it enraptured those who witnessed it. He would move to the beat with such unmatched fluidity that some could not resist attempting to dance with him, class systems be damned. He let it happen, lenient and benevolent as he was, and anyone who had the confidence to approach him would tell stories of the magnificence of it for years to come. He would forget their face the moment they were gone, but they would never forget him. He was not made for the music; the music was made for him, and him alone.
Skipper was a damned fool if he thought he had a chance in hell with Julien.
The matter stood was that Julien was almost never truly interested in another, not romantically. If it furthered his power or protected him somehow, he would probably pursue them. If he found them attractive, he might even be inclined to spend time with them and get to know them - but never was there any love, not truly. Julien was never satisfied, not with anyone who could realistically exist, and would discard someone the moment he lost interest or they no longer held any use to him.
Tiako ianao.
No one was a romantic interest. They were a shiny toy, ready to be tossed aside at a moment's notice. Forgotten the moment they were out of sight, gone and ready to be replaced with something shinier. And most were satisfied to be even this much to the king. When he took on a breathy tone and lowered his eyelids, he was alluring beyond all compare. One could look, one might touch, but one could never have.
Mangatsiaka be ny andro aho.
When there was something Julien wanted, he would use the powers of his attraction to gain it, if his royalty didn't manage to work for him prior. One bat of his divine eyes, a flick of his tail and a simple touch with his fingertips, and the other party was drooling. A husky whisper of his voice, a soft subtle touch, and they were at his service for as long as he wanted and more.
In this case, it was clear that what Julien wanted was a strong, experienced bodyguard to protect him from imminent assassination attempts. Julien had evaded death so far for his life, and he wanted to keep it that way. Skipper happened to be the closest one to fit the job description, so Julien locked onto him and effectively seduced him. Judging by the way Skipper first looked at Julien like a schoolboy crush, and then later like he wanted to marry the lemur and take him on the next plane to Monte Carlo, it was clear that Julien's attempts at amor were more than a little effective.
And how could they not have been? He was, after all, King Julien.
Poor poor Skipper, he had no idea what he was getting himself into. He seemed to genuinely believe that there was a chance between he and the king, which was honestly a laughable concept when all was considered. Skipper wasn't even conventionally attractive, how could he imagine impressing the lemur king? Julien could snap a heart in two as a way to spend the afternoon, and that was when he wasn't even paying attention.
Mandratra aho. Tsy azoko.
All the world disappeared around him, and like a predator to prey, he would play with those who were ensnared by his sensual, voluptuous charm. He'd done it many times in the past, watch in amusement as those who were smitten with him would crumple beneath his impenetrable heart. It was almost a hobby for him. Maybe even a bitter, supercilious way to show that he was not meant to be objectified. Not that it stopped anyone from doing so.
Tiako ianao.
Some would leave, dejected, bitter for the rest of their lives and always left to crave for the king they could not please. Some would feel hurt and move on with their lives, but would always feel a longing for Julien that could not be filled. There was one that always loved Julien, though, and was not deterred by his disinterest. And they knew he would never return their feelings, had come to terms with being unloved by the one they desired with all their heart, but that was all right.
All they cared about was keeping him safe. Safe, safe, safe from the world. Even those who lusted for Julien could become prone to hatred towards him, and then there were always those who despised him without having ever actually met him. Those who couldn't stand his political ideologies, those who might have even been jealous of the power he was notorious for having over all those who knew of him.
Hitanao ve io? Marary aho. Marary aho. Tiako ianao.
He needed to be protected from people like that. People who wanted Julien gone, and would stop at nothing to complete said task. Julien needed to be taken out of the spotlight that he was so very meant for, because all it acted as was a target. He was so vulnerable, so ripe for assassination. And the one who loved him forever would not let him die, not by the hands of someone who hated him.
No, Julien deserved to live forever in his image. He needed to be preserved the way he lived - gorgeous, perfect, godlike. He needed a quick, peaceful death. Something fast, something that he didn't see coming. He needed to not understand that he was dying before it hit him, so that he could live on forever in happiness as he so lived. It would cause them great relief, bring a smile to their features, to know that Julien would not die at the hands of his enemies.
He would become a ghost, a god, a star, something to remain forever in it's perfection. He would be a beloved statue of gold, never dead but never living. He would die in freedom, in peace, in the happiness he lived in - a stagnant end to his life of luxurious flawlessness. He was destined to die, why make it an unhappy death? Why not sugarcoat something that didn't need to hurt?
Tiako ianao.
Tiako ianao.
They would make this happen. They would be the one to take Julien's life, because his murder was inevitable. It was an unstoppable force, something that was bound to happen. It didn't have to happen in a miserable way, however, and that was what they were looking to stop. They only wanted Julien to die peacefully, since living peacefully was not an option.
Tiako ianao.
Tiako ianao.
Hurting Julien would not be fun, it would not be nice, and it would not be pretty. But it had to be done, because no one else was allowed to hurt Julien, and they made sure of that. Julien would die, yes. But they would make sure that it would be a death as perfect as the life he lived. Sure, that meant getting Skipper out of the way, or at least out of sight for a moment's notice, but that could be easily done. The penguin needed to come back to earth, anyway, and realize that Julien would never, ever love him.
It was okay. Everything was going to be okay, because they would never let another soul hurt Julien ever again, not as long as they lived. He would die, but it would be the most graceful, loving death of all. With them around, Julien was no longer in danger. All the world could burn, but Julien would remain.
Tiako ianao. Miala tsiny aho.
