Bartimaeus and Faquarl
By the anonymouslibrarians
Note: I do not own the Bartimaeus Sequence or any of its characters.
1. "You'll be the death of me, Bartimaeus, you really will." Bartimaeus could still remember the tone of Faquarl when he'd said this. Angry. Exasperated. Amused. Neither of them had thought that this prediction would one day come true.
2. The first time Bartimaeus and Faquarl met, they were young and hadn't had the chance to grow bitter just yet. Their first few jobs in Mesopotamia were done together. They actually made a good team. Which made it all the more difficult when they were eventually pitted against one another. Initially it was easy to maintain their friendship. After all, masters changed all the time. But the wars seemed to never end. All around them, their fellow djinn were dying, and sometimes Bartimaeus and Faquarl were the ones who killed them. Any innocence they'd had was quickly lost, and it wasn't long before they realized that there was every chance that they'd need to kill each other. Neither one had said so aloud, but each decided to build up a healthy hatred for the other. Only pain could come from allowing affection to grow.
3. If there was one thing Bartimaeus and Faquarl agreed on, it was that some of the worst charges involved acting. There was something degrading about being asked to prance around a stage and declare one's undying love for one another. Particularly in rhyme. Because of this, Faquarl and Bartimaeus had come to a tacit agreement to cause as much chaos during rehearsals as possible, in hopes of being dismissed before opening night. Unfortunately, their master seemed to enjoy their alterations to his work, which was how "A Midsummer Night's Dream" became a comedy instead of a tragedy.
4. It was a sad fact of life that, at some point, all djinn served a master whose sole interest in them was for sexual purposes. After all, djinn could take whatever form their master desired. Some masters wanted the illusion of love. Others wanted to fulfill every dark fantasy without the threat of legal retribution. But regardless of the magician's motives, the fact remained that the djinn seldom had any choice in the matter.
It sullied their essences, making them feel dirty. It was the ultimate humiliation, being forced to simulate enjoyment and affection for someone who cared nothing for them, or beg for mercy so that some sadist could feel powerful. Most djinn bid their time, pretending to be defeated. The closer the contact a magician had with a djinni, the more likely it was that the magician would make a mistake. And then the djinni would have its revenge. But revenge didn't erase what had happened or prevent it from happening again.
The first time it had happened to Faquarl was also the first time it had happened to Bartimaeus. They'd been serving the same master, who just happened to be curious as to what a ménage trois would be like. For weeks afterwards Bartimaeus hadn't made any snide or sarcastic remarks, speaking only when spoken to. For the rest of his existence, Faquarl intentionally chose forms that humans found unattractive, in hopes of dissuading other masters from making similar requests. Years later, Faquarl had been on another charge when he'd glimpsed their old master. The magician hadn't noticed Faquarl, not even when a meat cleaver had embedded itself in his stomach.
5. Faquarl always both loved and hated being around Bartimaeus. Faquarl had slowly grown more bitter over the years. The older he got, the harder he found it to feel anything but anger while he was on Earth. Bartimaeus, on the other hand, while obviously possessing a fair amount of sorrow and anger himself, still found it in him to see beauty in the world. There was scarcely a moment when Bartimaeus didn't have some witty comment to make or some amusing idea of how to make their enslavement more bearable. Sometimes when Faquarl was with Bartimaeus he was overwhelmed by jealousy that the other djinni could still frequently feel things such as joy. Other times, Faquarl could allow himself be drawn in by Bartimaeus' antics; he could almost forget the rage that was slowly taking over him. Almost.
6. Despite their long rivalry, Bartimaeus couldn't quite bring himself to feel smug when his latest triumph won Faquarl a session in the Essence Rack. He'd deny it if Faquarl ever asked him, but it wasn't an accident when the 500 pound stone Bartimaeus was using to build a bridge slipped from his hands just as Faquarl's master was sailing beneath him.
7. "Missed a spot!"
The portly stable hand glanced up to see an olive-skinned, curly-haired youth sitting cross-legged on the stall door. Frowning, Faquarl stopped shoveling manure. "Bartimaeus."
"Faquarl."
"What are you doing here?"
"I was flying through Sparta today and I thought I caught sight of your tentacles. Decided to pay you a visit."
"Did you? How very kind of you. I must warn you, Bartimaeus, my current task may not seem becoming for a spirit of my level, but I have been charged to protect my master and his property. With lethal force, if necessary."
Bartimaeus waved a hand dismissively, "That won't be necessary. I'm just doing a bit of sightseeing."
"Is that so?" Faquarl asked suspiciously. He resumed his task, glancing at Bartimaeus out of the corner of his eye. "And your master...does he know you're here? Or are you here on his orders?"
Bartimaeus shrugged, leaping down from the door to lean against it. "My master's given me a week off.
"Has he now? A whole week? Some king, I suppose." Generally, the more powerful one's master was, the more likely one was to be given periods of rest. Naturally, Faquarl's master was some small-time merchant who could only control Faquarl and a few minor imps at one time.
Bartimaeus smiled, cheeks dimpling, and, had Faquarl not known better, he would have said it was a fond one. "No. Just some little pipsqueak in Egypt. Royalty, but unlikely to become king." Faquarl grunted. "He's given me a whole week to do whatever I want! You won't believe what I've seen! There are vast forests where no magician and scarcely any humans live! Mountains that are so tall that humans can't breathe the air at the top!"
"Lovely."
The other djinni didn't seem to notice the lack of enthusiasm in Faquarl's voice. "And my master has such ideas! He's interested in the Other Place. He wants to go there one day."
At this Faquarl gave a snort of derision. "So, he's mad, is he?"
"He is not!" Bartimaeus sounded suspiciously angry at this insult. "Oh, I don't believe he'll succeed. But Pt...he's quite intelligent for a human!"
"Yes, the crazy one's always are."
In a flash, the youth was inches from the stable hand's face, his face red from utter fury. "HE. IS. NOT. CRAZY."
For a moment, neither one spoke or moved. Then, Faquarl slowly shook his head. "Oh, Bartimaeus. Poor, poor Bartimaeus. You're right of course. It's not your master who has gone mad. It's you. You actually care about him, don't you? Well, I suppose it's not the first time. That girl in Jerusalem-"
"I was right about her!" Bartimaeus pointed out. "She set us free!"
Faquarl waved a hand. "She was not a magician. Your master has enslaved you. Eccentric as he may be, he-"
"You're wrong there." Bartimaeus said quietly. "He hasn't enslaved me. He wants to work towards a peace between spirits and humans. One built on mutual respect. It will never happen, but he hasn't charged me with anything. I serve him because I wish to."
The stable hand stared at the djinni, his expression flickering between disgust and astonishment. "You're not bound...and yet...you haven't killed him? Oh, Bartimaeus, that is perverse! Where is the djinni who defeated Ammet? Who battled Humbaba? Has slavery driven you insane?" Faquarl shook his head. "Well, I suppose it does so to many weaker spirits over time. Still, even with your penchant for the creatures, I never thought you would have stooped so low as to fall in love with one."
The rage left Bartimaeus' face, replaced with a look of frustration. "Look, I'm sure if you met him, you'd understand why I serve him. Let me put in a word for you. Maybe after you finish with this master, mine could summon you. You have no idea how it can be when you're summoned by someone who actually cares for you! And Alexandria! You have no idea how-"
"Fascinating, I'm sure. But, if you'll forgive me, not all of us have masters who are so generous and I'll get the Stipples if I don't finish mucking out the stables before sunrise." Faquarl turned away, unable to so much as look at the djinni who'd sunk so low, and resumed his work. When he glanced up five minutes later, Bartimaeus was gone.
Still, Faquarl felt slightly guilty for snapping at the other djinni, when a noise made him glance up and he saw that someone had cleaned out all of the stalls on the opposite side of the stable.
8. Occasionally, Faquarl attended Makepeace's plays. Always under an assumed name, and always mingling with the crowd. Not that any of the magicians knew what Hopkins looked like, but one couldn't be too careful. It was during one of these occasions that Faquarl set eyes on one of Makepeace's friends, an up-and-coming magician named John Mandrake, and, more importantly, Mandrake's slave, a familiar looking Egyptian boy.
Initially, it amused Faquarl to see Bartimaeus in this predicament. The djinni clearly resented a guard duty which entailed listening to some fictitious djinni wax lyrical about its human love. It served Bartimaeus right for all the trouble he'd caused Faquarl over the years.
The second time Faquarl saw Bartimaeus at the theater, months after the first, the other djinni had obviously seen better days. His form flickered occasionally on some of the higher planes, and his essence was visibly sore from prolonged servitude. Faquarl could empathize, but he still didn't feel too badly for the other djinni. After all, had it not been for Bartimaeus, Faquarl wouldn't have spent several months trapped in that safe after Lovelace's death.
The third time, Faquarl couldn't help being moved to pity. True, he and Bartimaeus had had their little spats, but the normally upbeat djinni looked positively miserable. If the state of his essence was anything to go by, Bartimaeus hadn't been dismissed in almost a year. It was sheer madness to allow a spirit to deteriorate to that state, and that this was no mere imp or foliot but Sakhr al-Jinni himself made it worse! Faquarl considered having Bartimaeus' master killed. He could do it quite easily without detection. But the memory of the flames licking at his essence tempered his pity. No; he didn't owe Bartimaeus such a favor.
"Quentin," Faquarl said, after the show, "I couldn't help but notice your friend, John Mandrake."
Quentin's eyes lit up. "Ah, yes! John! Very ambition and talented young lad. I have high hopes he'll join our efforts."
"Hmmm...yes. Well, he looked slightly...restless during the play. I was wondering if you had ever thought of asking him to help out. Perhaps perform in one of your plays? I'm sure it would be thrilling for him and entertaining for the Prime Minister."
Makepeace stared at Faquarl for a while and for a moment the djinni wondered if he'd crossed the line. That he'd said something so bizarre that he had aroused the playwright's suspicions. Then, Makepeace grinned. "Why, Clem! That's a fantastic idea! I don't know why I never thought of it before!"
The next production saw the magician John Mandrake hanging from the ceiling in a gauzy outfit. It was obvious to everyone that the "imp's" grin was forced. His bodyguard's wasn't.
9. "YOU IDIOT, BARTIMAEUS" Faquarl roared.
"For the last time!" The other djinni wailed, dodging yet another knife thrown in his direction. "It wasn't my fault!"
"IT WAS ENTIRELY YOUR FAULT!" THUD! Another knife embedded itself in the wall, inches from Bartimaeus' head. "ONE JOB!" THUD! "YOU HAD ONE JOB!" THUD!
"And I did it!" Bartimaeus ducked behind a counter for shelter. "I followed directions to a tee! But we were out of garlic salt-"
"THERE," THUD! "WAS," THUD! "MORE," THUD! "IN," THUD! "THE STOREROOM!"
"I didn't know that! And how was I supposed to know that garlic salt wasn't half garlic half salt?" Bartimaeus chanced a peak at the livid chef...and was hit in the head with a frying pan.
10. After the Demon Uprising, Bartimaeus was seldom summoned. Kitty had discovered that he was alive, but had led the world to believe that the brave djinni Bartimaeus had gone out in a blaze of glory, dying with John Mandrake. On the rare occasions he was summoned, though, Bartimaeus found himself adding two new forms to his usual guises. One was Nathaniel. The other was an overweight chef. The forms, for better or for worse, reminded Bartimaeus of all he had lost.