Love's Mercy

9.5 The Envy of the Dead

an: this one i've also rewritten a thousand times. i just think its weird

Giovanni sat alone at the inn, the sun was soon to set, and a small tasse had been given to them. They laid their head in their arm upon the table, and stared at the grain of the dark wood panels that made the walls. As if it were obvious they had returned all their recent meals to the forest floor, a server had brought Giovanni a plate of bread and hard cheeses. She smiled to them as she did, offering them more at no charge, but they insisted she had been generous enough. She evaded their gaze all the while she spoke to them.

The food was similar to what Daraen and Jareth had served in their home, and Giovanni wondered if it was of a higher quality for the fact they were guests of Lady Viehn. Or, perhaps it was the fault of the divinely treated waters: everyone and everything was healthily fed.

But, the hospitality was not the same. The shifting eyes and whispers from one server to the next were not as furtive as they must have hoped. Daraen had never balked to their appearance, nor the Lady Viehn. Had Alfred? Giovanni thought, but they could not recall.

Jareth had.

Was it his honest sentiment to balk, though? they wondered. I should ask that of him, when the timing is better. It might break my heart should it be true.

Giovanni looked back towards the kitchen for all but a moment- long enough to see concern in their server's stare. She looked away quickly upon Giovanni's notice. Their appetite had already been turned, it was no use to find reasons all the more.

Am I so unnerving? Oh, I cannot blame them... Giovanni laid upon their arm once more.

I do miss Jareth, they thought, but their mind wandered back to the previous events. That child- I cannot think of it. Her family was agonized to find her, and she was just across the river, all this time! Giovanni briefly closed their eyes, and lifted their head to drink of the water. And this water I drink... it could have only come from the river. They set it back to the table, and slid it away.The inn's door opened, and that of whom they had hoped did enter the common room.

"Giovanni!" Jareth called, and hurried to where they were. He was greeted by the innkeeper, but he paid them little mind beside the nod of his head.

As he came to Giovanni, he wanted to take them to his arms, but they both mutually refrained. Jareth sat instead to the chair beside them. "I've much to say, but I cannot stay," he said as if breathless. His gaze fell to the table. "Are you... what is this meal? Do they feed you as they would a cat?" Jareth began to stand. "I'm certain they've something nicer-"

"Do not be proud!" Giovanni said, pulling him back to his seat. Is that important? It is all that I wish for, at the moment. I've been lightly taken ill, but it is no matter."

"Ill? What by? May I help-?"

"Sir," they spoke over him. "Your previous urgency?" They took his hand for his nerves were apparent. "What is wrong?"

"I must dine with Elif tonight."

"What!" Giovanni made to stand from the disbelief, and now Jareth held them still.

"Please, peace, Giovanni. He followed me to the riverside, that morning."

"You mean to say he saw-!" Giovanni only gasped, curled their hand into his. "I know not what to say."

"I'm sorry. I did not know he was there," Jareth said.

"How could it be any fault of your own? You are all the same harmed. He must be a lech!"