Love's Mercy

5 To Change That Part

"Jareth, please, calm your-"

"I will not!" he cried as he pulled his arm out of Daraen's reach, and pushed open the door to the hearth room. "Why must I! It is that sorcerer, brother, I utterly cannot bear to be in their presence!"

"You cannot? I wonder how they must feel! You are horrible to Giovanni, Jareth, they've every right to confront you. Someone must, sometimes! I might be glad it is Giovanni to do so; you behaved awfully, tonight," Daraen said.

"And you are the one to reprimand me? You did not need to follow me, Daraen. You should return to your guest. I would rather be on my own, now." Jareth cast to him hardly a glance before he sat back to his chair, and made no move, for his brother was yet watching him.

"Lady Viehn has left. That is ever what you prefer. Fine, if you wish. But, tell me, first: why do they bother you so?"

Jareth brought a hand to his head. "It is all of them... I cannot stand a single one of these- these visitors. Everything seems to have only become worse since this Lady Maria arrived. Worse all the same as the sorcerer did join."

"I do not find that to be true," Daraen countered. "Maria has been of great help to the Lady Viehn, and father finds her brilliant. I do, as well!"

"I care the least for her!" Jareth said. "Have your dinner, Daraen, I've nothing to say."

"You have plenty to say of Giovanni. And," Daraen continued, "you know, I have noticed what you do, Jareth."

"Do? I know not of what you speak. Leave me be-"

"You have never once spoken Giovanni's name!" Daraen interrupted.

"That is surely not possible."

"It is." Jareth did not reply. "One could call you hopeless," Daraen said, and turned to the door at last. "Goodnight, then."

Jareth listened as Daraen must have awaited a response before he left, then, but the door opened and shut behind him. He sighed freely as he were let to his own.

"Their name... What does it matter?" Jareth said to himself. The hearth was unlit, save for a candle upon the mantle gave him what little light he desired.

Giovanni, he thought.

He sat, staring at the candle.

Giovanni...

He exhaled sharply as it felt a bizarre chill came over his skin. What should I care? The sorcerer is a menace to this town- society at large. How foolish of Daraen to think anything of it. I do not need to speak their name. It makes no difference...

He shut his eyes against the meager light, but again, his mind wandered. Giovanni... You are cruel to me, for I was to you, firstly. You hate me, and you have every right. But... when you look at me that way you do: your eyes so pale but enraged beyond my own comprehension- I feel more alive than I ever have before. No! His eyes opened with a start. What is this? Who has spoken these words to my mind, for surely it is not myself! You speak to me as though I am lesser than the most vile creature in this land, with such passion to bring a fire to my own heart that I've never felt with anyone... That's all it is, though. The fire that comes to one's blood out of pure, inspired detestation. All it is.

Jareth closed his eyes once more, as the moon had risen high, and slumber wished to take his thoughts away. Gladly, he welcomed the passing of his conscious, and quiet of his heart's truer telling.

I've had enough...

"Wake up!" a sharp voice came.

Jareth woke, overwhelmed of confusion and mildly frightened. "What-?"