Fic: Love Never Dies 5
Sep. 11th, 2009 01:54 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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indeedsir_backupFic: Love Never Dies
Chapter Five
Author: Emerald
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Thank you for the wonderful look over!
Disclaimer: Jeeves and Wooster belong to Wodehouse, and I thank him for them.
Rating: R for this story.
Bertie Wooster rambled up the stairs to his flat. The thought occurred to him that perhaps it would be better to have that chat with Jeeves when he had partaken of a few less drinks. He instantly dismissed the idea. He needed every one of those drinks to bolster his courage for the ordeal. He would just have to be extremely careful with what he said.
He entered the apartment, and it seemed that no sooner had he shut the door, Jeeves appeared to help him. “How do you manage to do that, Jeeves?”
“Do what, sir?”
“Never mind. We need to have a chat. Sitting room, what?”
“That will be acceptable, sir.”
As they made their way to the agreed upon room, Bertie frowned. There had been something odd in Jeeves' tone when he had replied. Something that almost spoke of anxiety, but Bertie was certain that such an emotion would never be allowed to enter the man's voice. He dropped onto the settee with Jeeves taking a chair nearby, and then silence descended.
Bertie was not sure how long they sat there, with Jeeves looking respectful, and him staring at his hands, but he became aware that his valet had cleared his throat. Focusing on the man, Bertie said, “What?”
“You wished to have a conversation, sir.”
“Rather.” Taking a deep breath, Bertie began, “I'm aware that servants have rights, Jeeves. I never thought otherwise. Did you think that I thought otherwise?”
“No, sir. You have always been an understanding employer.”
“That's jolly good then. I know you have rights. I can't just make you stay in my service as if you were some slave with no right to an opinion. And...”
Bertie had felt shame over Lucius' love toward his slave, but now a fierce sense of pride in the man swept over him. He continued, “... And even if you were a slave, I wouldn't hold you to my side if you didn't want to be there. You know that, old chap?”
“Yes, sir.”
There was a very firm certainty in Jeeves' voice that pleased Bertie. He said, “Well, that's that.”
Bertie started to stand, only to realise with dismay, that they were not finished at all. He sat back down. “No, it isn't. Because you need to know... you need to know...”
With a sigh, Bertie once more thought that a drink or two less might have been the wiser course. “You need to know that I wasn't pipped when you gave notice. I'm not pipped about it now. So if your behaviour of recent past...” Bertie paused. That had not been exactly what he had wanted to say, and it had come out as if he disapproved of Jeeves' recent actions.
Struggling on, he said, “If you're trying to ease my anger, it's not necessary. I know you have the right to walk on the young master. I'm entitled to my two weeks notice, nothing more, and I wouldn't hold you to that. You know all this, what?”
Bertie wiped at his eyes. The world had become a little blurry on him, but from what he could see Jeeves was sitting there like a stuffed fish. Probably finding the entire discussion distasteful, Bertie thought.
“I am indeed conscious of these facts, sir. I never believed you were angry at me.”
This was a stumper. The only thing left to explain Jeeves' recent conduct was the man's salary, and Bertie felt that he wasn't blotto enough for that chat. He sat there silently for a moment when an idea came to him. He said, “It truly isn't about that, is it, old chap? You've been trying to make me feel guilty for keeping the banjolele. That's it, what?”
The “No, sir,” when it came was soft and quiet, and Bertie thought it arrived with a sense of defeat from his valet. He waved his hand, “No, I've guessed right, and you're upset because of it. Well, I'm not going to feel guilty over this. It isn't as if I chose the thing over you. You were the one that walked. Nobody asked you to leave,” Bertie finished with a “So there!” in his voice.
For a long moment silence stretched between them; a cold, icy silence that reminded Bertie of chilly ocean waters and shipwrecks. He shivered slightly.
Jeeves spoke, “Permission to speak freely, sir?”
Here it comes, Bertie concluded, here is where he tells the young master just how pipped he is over the issue. “You have it.”
“You made your choice very clearly, and I believe I was shown just as clearly my importance in your life, sir.”
Bertie rubbed his forehead. This was getting bigger than he wanted it to be. Holding up his hand, Bertie lifted a finger. “Firstly, I didn't choose anything over you. A Wooster has his pride, and sometimes you just trample right across it. With hobnailed boots,” he added. “I didn't want you to leave, but when you tell someone that it's either or else, well, there's an implied implication...”
Bertie hesitated. He was not sure that his words were making sense. Jeeves was watching him intently and hoping that he was understandable, Bertie continued, “... that says that I will leave you and if it wasn't this it would be another.”
He ceased talking, convinced that he made no sense at all and even Jeeves would not be able to grasp his meaning.
His voice was still very quiet when Jeeves asked, “Sir, could you explain that again to me, perhaps?”
'Once more into the fray', Bertie thought. He kept his tone gentle when he answered, as they were trespassing into territory where he felt that Jeeves could easily take offence. “If I gave in to you over the banjolele, the next time you took a dislike to the young master's drapery or face or whatever thingummy, you'd threaten to push off again as you'd know that worked with me as a threat. And...”
Bertie brought himself up short. He had started to say that his heart couldn't take too many of these partings, whether they were only threatened or made real, but that was best kept to himself. Instead he said, “I realise that you might do so, any way, but at the time I had it in the onion that either way I was going to lose you, and it was best to bite the bullet and get it over with.” He wished Jeeves would not watch him so closely, as his eyes were stinging again. Hastily, he fixed his gaze on the floor.
“I apologise, sir, for the pain I caused you. I promise you that I will not repeat my actions.”
Bertie quickly looked up to stare at Jeeves. “Not repeat your actions? You mean what? That you won't leave the young master again? No, no, I'm not... I'm not asking you for that. That's not what this chat is about. I'm not trying to force you to stay at my side.”
“I understand that, sir. I also comprehend your reasoning and completely agree with it. There is no excuse for such threats between friends as I trust we are.”
“Rather!” Bertie longed to ask Jeeves to state once more that he would not leave, but he wasn't sure he believed the man, so there was no point in asking for a reassurance that would not reach his heart.
After a minute or two to gather his thoughts, Bertie said, “And secondly this is about your importance in the young master's life, if you're insinuating that you don't have much importance to Bertram Wooster, well, you're just plain wrong. Why, I can't think of anyone more important to me than you. So if you think differently, then you should just put those thoughts aside. It's balderdash, sheer rot for you to go around believing that I don't care about you. Sheer rot,” he repeated for emphasis.
“Thank you, sir.”
There followed another silence, but this one did not seem to be dripping with icicles to Bertie. He said, “We should let the dead past bury its dead.”
“I am agreeable, sir. May I ask; have you found my performance unsatisfactory recently?”
“Not at all! You're a real corker, Jeeves. A marvel!”
“Then I may continue as I have begun?”
Bertie considered this statement. He wasn't sure what Jeeves had begun, but he was relieved that their conversation had gone relatively well. He studied the man. His valet didn't seem annoyed; just the usual calm and steady Jeeves. “What exactly have you begun?”
There was an almost imperceptible pause before Jeeves replied, “I would prefer not to reveal my hopes at this time, sir. I hope that the final outcome will be very satisfactory to you, however.”
“I'll be happy with it, what?”
“That is my sincere hope, sir.”
“This isn't about making the young master feel guilty or some other sinister scheme?”
“I assure you it is not, sir.”
Bertie pondered the matter. He had a tendency to trust Jeeves, but if his valet was allowed to continue, it would mean that he would have to keep a constant guard over his heart. Hours spent with him playing checkers, gifts of food and a flower; it was almost as if... it was almost as if Jeeves was courting him. Hope flared, and Bertie quickly shoved it down. If Jeeves had any fond feelings toward the Wooster person then he wouldn't have walked out. Still, Jeeves had said that he would never do that again. Bertie couldn't put faith in that, though, as it would hurt like the dickens, if it turned out to not be the truth.
Feeling confused, Bertie sighed softly. Perhaps it would be best to just trust the man and be done with it. He nodded and said, “Carry on, Jeeves.”
“Thank you, sir.”
There was one more thing that had to be spoken of, and for a second Bertie debated the best way to go about it. “Jeeves, old chap, just because I'm not constantly sending compliments your way, that doesn't mean that I don't think highly of you. I've said before; you stand alone, and I mean it. You're matchless; quite a wonder.”
It was not the tabasco that poured from Bertwald's lips, but Bertie was certain that if he suddenly started spouting such nonsense, Jeeves would consider him to have gone quite potty.
“I appreciate your words, sir. If I may say, I hold you in the highest regard.”
'Highest regard', Bertie thought. It wasn't the love he wanted from Jeeves, but it was better than he had believed Jeeves' opinion of him was, and it made him happy. He smiled and said, “Right ho, old top. I'm going to grab The Seven Dials and settle in for the evening. I won't need anything. You're free to do as you wish.”
If he hadn't happened to be studying Jeeves at that particular moment, Bertie would have missed the odd gleam that came into his servant's eyes. It was gone so fast that Bertie was unsure that he had, in fact, seen any such expression.
Jeeves said, “Very good, sir.”
Retrieving his book, Bertie stretched out on the settee. The book had his attention for several hours, but he was aware that Jeeves had not gone far. A dish of pears and a cup of tea appeared at his side, just at the moment that he had started thinking that some tea and a bite of something to eat would be tops. Bertie shook his head as he helped himself to the pears. Jeeves truly was a marvel.
An hour later, Bertie set the book down with a sigh of satisfaction. He shifted around until he was comfortable and reclined there musing over the book. He closed his eyes, and his thoughts wandered to the conversation with Jeeves. Jeeves had stated that he was an understanding employer and that he was held in the highest regard.
Something Bertie had once read struggled at the edge of his reflections and after several minutes endeavouring to recall it, Bertie remembered it. It was a quote from some place, he would ask Jeeves later where it was from, that said, 'Cattle die, kinsmen die, all men are mortal. Words of praise will never perish nor a noble name.'
He was reflecting on these thoughts when he fell asleep and began to dream. Images fluttered through his mind. Two little boys sat by a fire sharing a piece of dried meat. They were laughing and plainly happy to be together. The two, much older, hunting and killing a bear. They found the hunt to be exciting and took pleasure in it, but Bertie shuddered in his sleep.
He found the next image more peaceful, at first. The young men were fishing together. More happiness and joy in each other's company as the fish was cooked, and they joked together. Bertie watched as they ate boiled fish and dipped what appeared to be very hard bread into butter. He listened with mounting horror as he realised that they were discussing Bjorn's upcoming marriage.
Bertie approached the young man opposite Bjorn and put a hand on his shoulder. The love was still there; steady and strong.
Frowning in puzzlement, Bertie went to Bjorn and touched him. Bertie was only seeking Bjorn's feelings concerning his future marriage, but a barrage of thoughts, memories, and emotions were thrown to him. Most of Bjorn's recollections centred around his best friend, Reinaldr. He had spent his childhood with Reinaldr. They had raced along paths, swam together in a lake, and wrestled. For as long Bjorn could remember, Reinaldr had been a part of his life.
Bertie let his hand slip from Bjorn's shoulder with a sigh of discouragement. Bjorn loved Reinaldr; as a brother. So, Bertie thought, it stopped with me, not with Jeeves. I was the one who changed the nature of our love. An agonising thought came to Bertie; he was always telling Jeeves that the man was like a relative to him, maybe his valet believed that was the only way his master perceived his servant.
Looking at Bjorn, who was handing cherries to Reinaldr and laughing at something his friend had said, Bertie stated, “I wonder which one of us is more of a dimwit. And I wonder if you'll be happy married to Fjolmod.”
The surroundings disappeared with such rapidity that Bertie barely had time to adjust before more images filled his mind. At first the visions went too fast for Bertie to discern much from them. Gradually the reflections slowed, and Bertie knew that Bjorn's life had settled into a routine as the years went by. Each spring, he oversaw the planting of grain on his farm. As soon as the last of the planting was done, he would be off with Reinaldr. The raiding that followed distressed Bertie as much as any nightmare would. To Bjorn, it was simply his way of life and as long as Reinaldr was at his side, he was happy. By the middle of summer, he would be back at his farm; only to return to raiding again after the grain was taken in. Once winter arrived, he would return home. He and Reinaldr would spend long hours by the fire playing tafl.
Then the dream settled upon an elderly Bjorn. He was sitting in some grass by stones that were placed to form the shape of a ship. The earth was newly replaced, and Bertie understood. Reinaldr had died. Bjorn was not crying, but Bertie did not need to touch him to feel the anguish that radiated from the man. Bjorn's life was open to Bertie. He was aware that as much as Bjorn had loved Reinaldr; they had never made love. Bjorn had always viewed Reinaldr as the dearest of brothers. Whether Reinaldr had felt a lack, Bertie did not know. Reinaldr had married himself, and perhaps Bertie thought, he had found love with his wife. Bertie hoped that such was the case.
What Bertie saw next both astonished him and filled him with happiness. Mist filled the area but before it could settle and bring a chill, the sun rays came from behind a cloud, giving the place so much light that Bertie's eyes watered.
He blinked and when he looked again Ramose was sitting next to Bjorn, holding him closely. In a voice brimming with love and tenderness, Ramose said, “Come, Weni, it's time to leave.”
Bertie watched as Bjorn leaned against one of the stones and died. Bertie could not tell what the man died of; he seemed to merely will to, no longer wishing to live now Reinaldr was gone.
In that instant, Ramose was joined by Weni, and they sat locked in an embrace of joyous reunion.
The light began to dim, and Bertie recognised the signal that it was time for him to leave. He heard Weni's laughter, and the happiness the man felt surrounded him. The euphoria Weni felt almost made Bertie forget everything else. Suddenly he remembered that he wished to speak with Ramose. He had started to call out when he became dimly aware of someone pushing him with a gentle, steady hand and heard Jeeves say, “Sir, you are about to fall from the settee.”
Sleepily, Bertie opened his eyes and gazed up at Jeeves. For a second he thought he heard tenderness in his valet's voice when he said, “Would you like to retire now, sir?”
Staring at Jeeves, Bertie tried to decide if he had heard affection in the man's tone. Shaking his head, he sighed. He had been dreaming again; he could still feel Weni's rapture. Hoping his voice didn't tremble, Bertie said, “That would be jolly good. Head hurts somewhat.”
“I will make you a cocktail that will ease your pain and help you sleep, if you would like, sir.”
“Rather!”
Jeeves helped him dress for bed. When the soothing drink had been placed in his hand, Bertie said, “You're tops, Jeeves.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Bertie finished the drink and said, “Jeeves, you do know that just because I say you're like a mother to me that doesn't mean I see you as my mother, what?”
“I am gratified to hear that, sir.”
When Jeeves had departed, and the room rested in darkness, Bertie began to think. If that was what dying was like then it was something to look forward to not dread. Weni had been overflowing with joy. Would Ramose be waiting for Bertram Wooster when that day came? If Jeeves did leave his service would the cycle end?
Bertie frowned. He was finding it all too easy to believe that the dreams were truth. After a moment of telling himself that he was loony, Bertie decided that he did not care. He would enjoy the dreams when they came because they gave him Jeeves.
He had learned one important thing from Bjorn. The man had seen his life as a happy one despite the fact that he and Reinaldr had never been lovers. He had loved Reinaldr as fiercely as one brother could love another and had felt no lack. Bertie thought that if he could only keep Jeeves at his side then he would also be happy. Unlike Bjorn, he would want what he could not have, but he believed he could be content with just Jeeves' friendship.
Bertie fell asleep. As he slept, he thought he felt Ramose's strong arms hold him close. A voice that belonged to Jeeves' and yet was different ran through his mind with words of love. Ramose saying to him, “We shall have one end as we have one bond after our pledges; never shall our first love die. I am happy to have the joy of being yours and never shall my spirit languish in loneliness. Let death grip me tightly; the final pain shall bring with it joy only, because I have the certainty of renewed love. Death will have its own rapture. Each time holds happiness and in the land of spirits our united souls will be renown for our mutual love that never ends.”
“Ramose,” Bertie whispered in his dream. “Never have you failed me.”
“Nor shall I do so in this time, my beloved. Rest easy; let tomorrow come and do what it will. Do not sorrow now for what will come. Be patient, my love, and let me finish what I have begun.”
When Bertie woke the next morning, his tea was waiting for him. He sat up and glanced at Jeeves, recalling that his servant had mentioned beginning something that he had not wanted to talk about. Ramose, too, had asked to be allowed to finish what he had begun. Bertie still wasn't sure that he believed in what the dreams had shown him, but he did know that even if Ramose was something from his imagination, he had trust in the man. For now, he would not grieve, but be happy with today. It would be enough to have Jeeves at his side.
Tbc
a/n: The words Ramose declares to Bertie are my paraphrase from a Viking love story.
Chapter 6 is here: community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/776341.html
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Date: 2009-09-11 11:16 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-11 11:51 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-11 12:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-12 02:14 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-11 07:20 pm (UTC)I'm glad Bertie's gaining more trust (and perception), and that they had a forthright conversation. Looking forward to more, as always. :D
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Date: 2009-09-12 02:20 am (UTC)Thanks and hugs!
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Date: 2009-09-11 09:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-12 02:21 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-11 09:51 pm (UTC)Bertie seems to be getting more comfortable with talking with Jeeves.
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Date: 2009-09-12 02:43 am (UTC)Thank you!
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Date: 2009-09-11 10:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-12 04:09 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-12 01:57 am (UTC)I love the language, I love the storyline, I love the progression.
:D Lovely as always.
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Date: 2009-09-12 06:19 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-12 02:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-12 07:14 am (UTC)