Fic: Love Never Dies chapter 6

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Fic: Love Never Dies Chapter Six Author: Emerald Beta: jestana  and windysame  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. Thank you to pipariperho  for the ideas

 

Jeeves sat in his bed; his back cushioned by a pillow. A book rested unopened in his lap, but his mind was not on reading. He was reviewing the events of the day. Matters had taken an unexpected turn with Mr. Wooster requesting that they have a discussion. Jeeves had known that something had been troubling his master and had felt relief when Mr. Wooster had returned home and asked for a conversation. The valet admitted that he had also been anxious. He had feared that his recent familiarity with his employer was about to be rebuffed.

 

Twice during their discussion, Jeeves had seen tears in his master's beautiful eyes; carefully hidden away but not quickly enough to keep them from his gentleman's personal gentleman's discerning notice. Both times the sorrow had came into Mr. Wooster's eyes when he had mentioned Jeeves leaving him. Jeeves bitterly regreted leaving Mr. Wooster's service over the banjolele. He had felt his employer's pain as if it was his own. Perhaps, Jeeves reflected, his agony had even been stronger, since he knew that it was his actions that put that anguish into his master's eyes.

 

The valet had prepared himself for Mr. Wooster to offer him a raise. It was the logical thing to do when an employer desired a servant to stay in a position. Jeeves had fervently hoped that his master would not make such an offer. While it would have been understandable, it would also have caused him to feel that all the effort he had put into making Mr. Wooster view him as more than a personal attendant had been in vain.

 

Still, an offer to increase his wages would have been far less crushing than Mr. Wooster's opinion that his valet had been trying to make his employer feel guilty. Now, looking back on the conversation, Jeeves could easily understand how his master had reached that conclusion. He was glad that Mr. Wooster had eventually abandoned that idea.

 

Jeeves glanced down at the book of Spinoza that Mr. Wooster had given him and for the first time since the rift over the banjolele the valet felt truly happy as he mused over some of his employer's words. Mr. Wooster had not chosen the instrument over him! He had not been set aside as nothing more than a servant!

 

Mr. Wooster's reasoning had been very sensible. Jeeves promised himself that never again would he give his employer notice.

 

More happiness claimed Jeeves as he thought of the rest of the conversation. It was established now that they were friends, and his master had stated that he could think of no one as important to him as Jeeves was. Mr. Wooster had given him compliments and had put to rest one of his servant's worries. The valet had wondered if his employer had perceived him as a relative. Mr. Wooster had referred to him as his mother, his father, and as a kind uncle more than once. During their first years together, Jeeves had viewed these references with fond amusement. Once he had realised that he loved his employer such terms had often caused a sense of despair. Tonight, however, a few words on Mr. Wooster's part had relieved Jeeves' anxieties over this matter.

 

Just as satisfactory Mr. Wooster had decided to trust him and had given him permission to continue to try to win his master's heart. True Mr. Wooster had no idea what he was granting his employee, but nevertheless Jeeves was happy.

 

Yes, Jeeves reflected, he had much to be happy about tonight. Most of all it was plain to Jeeves that his master was fond of him. For the first time since the rift over the banjolele, Jeeves allowed hope to take root in his heart. Before the incident, he had felt that his employer loved him; Mr. Wooster simply needed that love revealed to him. The perceived choice of the banjolele over his valet and the insistent of keeping it as each day went by had convinced Jeeves that he had been wrong. Now Jeeves felt that his first belief had been the correct one. He had definitely heard affection in his employer's voice; mingled with the compliments. The very idea of him giving notice again had caused tears to well into those blue orbs that Jeeves cherished.

 

The trouble was that there was still too much Jeeves did not know. Was Mr. Wooster aware of his feelings toward his valet? Were those feelings the kind that would allow physical closeness between them? Would he be willing to change their relationship? Would he agree to a partnership that would always have to be kept hidden from the world? Would Mr. Wooster find a temporary liaison agreeable but not desire a permanent relationship? If so, could he accept that? Jeeves ruefully concluded that he would probably consent to anything the man offered, out of love for his employer.

 

Jeeves was not even sure what Mr. Wooster might believe about inverts. He did think that his employer had some experience in this area. He felt certain that Mr. Wooster had occasional dalliances with other members of the Drones Club during the first years of Jeeves' service. Jeeves was also positive that any such activity had ceased over the last few years. A little fun while a man was young did not make that man an invert, and Jeeves doubted his employer viewed himself as one.

 

For all the progress they had made tonight, Jeeves felt that he had new reason to proceed very cautiously. He had come to understand that if he did something that made Mr. Wooster feel compelled to fire him, he would not be the only one hurt. It had been made very clear to Jeeves during their discussion that his departure would cause anguish to his young master.

 

And that, Jeeves concluded, brought him back to the questions he could not answer with the added complication that he did not know a way to approach his employer while at the same time not taking such a big risk that they both would suffer for the revealing of feelings if Mr. Wooster could not return his love.

 

With a sigh, Jeeves set his book on the stand. He was not going to be able to concentrate tonight with so many questions swirling around in his mind. Opening a drawer, he removed his notepad and pen to place beside the book. As far as he could remember he had not had a dream for a few days now. Jeeves hoped that they had not ceased. I could use a little guidance, Jeeves thought, as he switched the lamp off and settled down to sleep.

 

If he had another dream, Jeeves expected it to commence in the hallway that had led to different lives before. Instead it started with the sensation of floating in warm water; his twin nestled close to him. This was followed by a separation from his sibling that was so agonising that he screamed out his anguish. Then he was wrapped in warmth again with his brother next to him, and life was good once more.

 

Life was indeed good, filled with pleasant days. Cold winter evenings spent sitting with his brother near the fireside while sharing skyr; a treat they both loved. Jeeves watched as two tow-headed little boys threw elderberries at each other in a mock battle until their mother stopped their war. The valet smiled as the young woman made her sons pick up any berries that had survived their play and the two children smothered giggles as they worked. Jeeves saw the same two little boys, later in the year, as one of them tried to convince the other to eat the carrots that he did not want, but his mother felt that he should eat. He observed the first boar hunt when the two were years older and a fishing trip the week before the youngest twin married.

 

Jeeves listened as they laughed and joked with each other. He observed as they prepared for sleep that night and the conversation became more serious. He discerned an awkward silence as neither man was accustomed to speaking words of love. Finally Bjorn said, “Nothing changes between us. The tie between us is too strong to ever diminish.”

 

Reinaldr answered, “Of course nothing will change between us. You're stuck with me. I will always be at your side. I don't believe even death could separate us; certainly marriage will not. Did I not say we would marry another set of twins one day? Am I not always right?”

 

Bjorn laughed, “Always right and very aware of it.”

 

The scene faded, and Jeeves turned in his sleep, slowly waking up. It was several minutes before he reached full consciousness. The instant full awareness arrived, the valet set up and reached for the pen by the bed. Not bothering to switch on the light, Jeeves hastily wrote the dream down. When he was finished, the servant switched the lamp light on and inspected what he written. Satisfied, he glanced at the clock. It was only one in the morning. Hoping for another dream, Jeeves switched the light off and settled back in his bed.

 

When Jeeves' next sense of awareness came, he was sitting on top of a hill, looking down into a valley. He could see farmyards below; most with boundaries clearly defined, but in some places Jeeves could see large acreages that appeared to be separate farms yet had no clear boundaries. The land was bright with colour. The trees were in full autumn foliage yet many of the flowers still held a summer bloom.

 

Jeeves suddenly had the impression that he was not looking at farms. He was viewing times; each plot of represented one of their lives. Once more, Jeeves gazed over the valley. He was pleased that everything was so beautiful. Sunlight played over each field, but a single ray highlighted one area. The valet suspected this was the place he was to go.

 

A road led down into the valley. Jeeves stood up and started to walk. He had not gone far enough to reach the bottom of the hill, yet with a few steps the valley opened up underneath him. A few more steps and in the distance Jeeves thought he heard a baby's wail. There was something familiar in the infant's cry that caused the servant to quicken his pace.

 

A little farther, and Jeeves stepped into a bustling city. Startled, he stopped. His attention centred on a building in the distance that appeared to be a mosque. The building was huge and had four minarets. He took a few steps forward and found himself in a spacious room where two men sat talking.

 

The younger one was saying, “It has been six months since my father died and three months since our butler, Mehmi, died. I miss my father greatly, Emir. I miss Mehmi, too. I am having difficulty managing all the many things he was responsible for. I've hired three men to replace him since he died and either they didn't please me or I was unacceptable to them. It is a lot to take on. Sometimes I wish my father had other sons, so I would have someone to give some of these burdens to. Your visit has brought me cheer for this house seems empty without my father and Mehmi, who was always at his heels. I will admit to being quite lonely at times.”

 

Emir sat down his cup of coffee and stated, “We are cousins; if only distantly. I would be glad to arrange a marriage for you; a wife and, in time, a few children might be just the solace you need.”

 

“Yes, and I can spend the rest of my life making her and me both miserable, just as my father did my mother. It would have been wiser for him to admit to himself that he had no love of women and that his heart belonged to Mehmi. If he had done that I'd have been spared seeing my mother's tears.”

 

Emir shook his head and said, “If he had done that, you would not be here to complain about his folly.”

 

“As true as your words are, I do not intend to repeat my father's mistakes. Especially as...” Sevilen paused, plainly hesitant to continue.

 

“Please go on, my friend,” Emir encouraged.

 

“You will think I am crazy but soon after I had become a man, I had this dream. I will spare you the details but in this dream I was someone else, and I had a friend that was as close to me as Mehmi was to my father. I do not expect to ever be loved, but I will not marry some unfortunate woman that I could never take an interest in.”

 

Once more Emir sat his cup down. “Your trouble is this desire for love. Most of us are happy to marry and have children as we're supposed to. We don't go seeking some elusive emotion that may last only for a night and die when dawn touches the sky.”

 

“My mother was not happy without love.”

 

Emir sighed. “Forgive me, my friend, but it was not the lack of love that gave your mother sorrow. If your father had hidden his relations with Mehmi from her; she would have been content. He made it far too obvious where he spent his nights, and she felt shamed.”

 

Sevilen said reluctantly, “I fear you are right. Are you content in your marriage?”

 

“I am. I rarely see or talk to her unless desire is upon me. She has given me two sons that I am grateful for. I hope to have many more. Should I suddenly wish for a man's company, I would be discreet and not be so open about it that our servants would be gossiping and whispering, bringing disgrace upon her.”

 

Sevilen said wryly, “And I suppose she tolerates your attention; nothing more. I saw my father and Mehmi sharing intimacy once... I want the love and passion they had. I know very well that is impossible, but I would rather be alone than marry and be miserable.”

 

They sipped coffee in silence, then Emir said, “I might be able to solve several of your problems. I'm going to give you Bayram; much though it cost me to do so; if he will agree to serve you.”

 

He grinned, and Sevilen said impatiently, “Bayram? Who is that?”

 

Emir leaned forward and said, “I will give you Bayram, if he will consent. However, he will remain my servant. I pay his wages for the next four years. If after those years, you still feel burdened by too many responsibilities, he returns to my service, and you owe me nothing. If you find him to be just as useful to you as Mehmi was to your father, you owe me only what you decide is Bayram's worth to you.”

 

So saying Emir sat back and laughed. His friend frowned at him and said, “No one will ever be as useful to me as Mehmi was to my father. Just who is this Bayram? What's so special about him?”

 

Emir continued to laugh, and Sevilen demanded, “Are you going to tell me who this Bayram is or not?”

 

Suddenly becoming serious, Emir said, “I was about to, my impatient friend. His father manages my household affairs and a more honourable, trustworthy man you could not find. He has three sons; Bayram is the youngest. He has been trained by his father. He will help you so all those responsibilities no longer feel like burdens to you. In truth, I was hoping that Bayram would take over my own household one day when his father is old and wishes to devote himself to prayer, but I believe he belongs with you.”

 

There was silence between the two as Sevilen considered his friend's offer. Jeeves stepped forward into the room and scrutinised Sevilen. There was no denying that Sevilen was unattractive. Oddly, though, Jeeves felt a decided certainty that the man had been willing to take on such an appearance. The valet thought of Mr. Wooster's blue eyes that had always charmed him and understood; love was not about someone's beauty. Love, a genuine love, was never concerned with the beloved's features. Jeeves comprehended something else now as well. Ramose and Weni had wanted other lives; simply for the joy of being together, but their return each time was not just for their benefit alone. Jeeves did not know who else was benefiting from each of their lives, but he was certain that their love served others as a powerful testimony to love's power.

 

Even as Jeeves reflected on these thoughts, the room's surroundings slowly began to change. He knew that time was going forward and quietly waited until everything became clear again.

 

Sevilen was laying across a divan, reading. Jeeves frowned at the untidy state of the room. It was dark with only a lamp to read by and stuffy. There was a spider web in one corner. Jeeves' fingers itched to open the windows and to tidy the room. The valet recognised Bayram the instant he quietly entered the room. Jeeves' heart instantly felt a surge of joy at the sight of his friend.

 

To the valet's surprise, Bayram glanced at him; dark, perceptive eyes that seemed aware of everything including Jeeves' presence in the room. It was merely coincidence; Jeeves told himself, that the ebony gaze appeared to settle on him for a second before giving acceptance to him. Still, the valet experienced a powerful sense of love for the man. Weni's eyes, he thought. He has Weni's dark eyes; not the azure orbs of Mr. Wooster, yet truly love is not about appearance, Jeeves mused. It is his spirit and his kind heart that changes not; no matter what time we live in, that I love.

 

Bayram began doing what Jeeves had longed to do; opening windows to allow the breeze to come in. He had reached the second window when Sevilen growled, “What are you doing?”

 

Bayram never paused in his work as he answered, “Opening the windows, master.”

 

“Leave them.”

 

“Master likes the dark stuffy gloom?”

 

Jeeves smiled. This, he thought, is why I should be the servant not you, but perhaps this is just what I... what Sevilen needed.

 

In the same grumbling tone, Sevilen answered, “No, master does not, but I am in mourning.”

 

“Master wishes to grieve in the dark. I understand.”

 

Bayram left the room as silently as he had entered. The time did not change, and Jeeves smiled. He could guess what would happen next. The breeze danced into the room, cooling it and the occupant within. As if bringing a gift, the wind brought the sweet smell of flowers into the chamber. Sunshine played along the floor. From the window, Jeeves could see a mulberry tree's leaves rustle in the air.

 

As Jeeves had suspected, Sevilen ceased reading to enjoy the fresh air. A smile, quickly hidden, graced the man's face. Jeeves knew that the next time Bayram made a decision regarding household care, there would be no argument from his master.

 

Jeeves was unaware of time changing but as he watched Sevilen, time shifted. The room had not changed, but the valet sensed that at least a year had gone by.

 

The room was dim with fading afternoon light but it took Jeeves only a quick glance to approve of its improved state. No cobwebs or dust, and it held the fragrance of the garden outside. Sevilen was asleep on the divan. As Jeeves watched, Bayram entered the room. He had a tray with a pitcher of water and a glass. Upon seeing that his master had fallen asleep, Bayram set the tray aside.

 

Silently he went to Sevilen's side and stared down at the sleeping man. At first his expression was only that of a servant's but as Jeeves watched his features softened. Love and devotion and desire mingled in the man's face. In a whisper, Bayram said, “I love you, beloved. If only you could love me.”

 

Jeeves went to where Sevilen was napping. He leaned over and placed a hand on the man's shoulder. Wisps of visions of Ramose and Weni came to him, and Jeeves knew that Sevilen had dreamed of and longed for Weni many times. Weni was, to this man, the fantasy that sustained Sevilen through life. He had dreamed of Weni since he was a very young man. As Jeeves perceived the man's conciousness he saw Sevilen's dreams of Weni shift, and the man's thoughts and focus centred on Bayram. Jeeves felt his growing awareness of his love for his servant and the fear that went with it. Sevilen truly did not believe that anyone could love him.

 

The valet knew that it might just confuse Sevilen, but Jeeves concentrated on Bion and Jason, trying to share his knowledge with the sleeping man. Jeeves would have liked to stayed with Sevilen longer so he could shift through the man's memories, but he sensed that Bayram was about to leave the room.

 

Withdrawing his hand, Jeeves went to where Bayram stood, still gazing at Sevilen. Gently he touched the other servant's arm. His fingers had barely brushed against Bayram when the love the man felt for his master swelled over Jeeves like a tidal wave. Jeeves gasped and then longing filled his own heart. He wanted Mr. Wooster to love him like that; to look at him the way Bayram was gazing at Sevilen.

 

Forcing himself to think only of Bayram, he gripped the man's arm and let all the love he felt for his own employer dominate his heart and thoughts. There was an intake of Bayram's breath, and his dark eyes swept the room. After the briefest of seconds, Jeeves felt the arm he was holding relax, and the man closed his eyes. Jeeves sensed the servant's spirit become calm and still, and Bertram Wooster's man tried to send thoughts to Bayram. He loves you but his trust is weak. Build his trust and then ask for his heart. There was a barely perceptible nod from Bayram.

 

The surroundings began to dim, and Jeeves waited patiently. He was not surprised to find himself in the same room when once more everything came into sharp focus. Sevilen was sitting on the divan again but a table had been placed in front of it. Bayram sat in a chair across from the table and between the two was a backgammon game. The scent of coffee wafting from the cups beside each man pervaded the room.

 

As if recalling a long forgotten memory, Jeeves remembered the taste of Turkish coffee and Turkish bread and there had been the pilaf and... Jeeves paused as memories of delicious food came into his mind. For a second, he felt disgusted. Of all the things to recall, food was not what the valet considered to be high priority. Then another memory came to him, crisp and clear. He had been sitting on a garden beach under a cypress tree. Weni was beside him with an arm around his shoulder. Weni had said, “The food was better than anything we've ever experienced. I doubt we will ever taste anything so wonderful in a lifetime again. The spice alone... ah, well, each time has its benefits.”

 

Jeeves' attention returned to Bayram. It was the servant's turn in the game, but he was studying Sevilen and was lost in thought.

 

Sevilen allowed the scrutiny for several minutes before saying, “Bayram?”

 

“I am sorry, master. I fear I can not concentrate on the game today. I would far rather look at you.”

 

Sevilen answered, “I find that hard to believe, but I can not concentrate today, either. Do you know what tomorrow is, Bayram?”

 

“Yes, master. Tomorrow will mark the end of my fourth year with you, and you must decide if I return to my former master or stay with you.”

 

“It's not my decision alone, Bayram. I do not want to live without you to guide me, but if you wish to return to Emir, I will not ask him for you.”

 

There followed a tense silence. Both men sipped of their coffee as the unasked question of whether Bayram desired to stay hung between them.

 

Studying Bayram's face, Jeeves understood that the servant wanted to stay with Sevilen. The love he felt for his master had grown with the passing years. Bayram sensed that now was the time to speak his heart but he was afraid to do so. He was trying to gather courage to speak freely.

 

Finally when the quiet was becoming almost painful, Bayram said, “My answer can not be given until I have an answer from you. What would you give him for me? What is my worth to you?”

 

Sevilen sat his cup down and replied, “You are worth far more than I possess and more than I could afford to pay. All the riches of the world would not be enough. However, what I actually plan to offer Emir is reimbursement for your wages for the last four years, and I will make his sons my heirs with one condition. Should I die before you, my wealth belongs to you until your death.”

 

Bayram's eyes had filled with tears as Sevilen spoke. Now his voice was quiet as he said, “Thank you, master. I wish to stay with you. As we can not concentrate on the game perhaps you would allow me to tell you a story?”

 

Sevilen was plainly surprised by the request, but he nodded. “Tell on, my friend.”

 

“When I was a child, I often had dreams. Everyone has dreams, but these dreams were very real to me. Although your cousin was my master's child, we were the same age and often played together. I told him of my dreams and that is one reason I was sent to you. The story comes from those night memories.”

 

Bayram's voice softened and filled with love as he said, “His name was Ramose and his master loved him more than all his wealth and more than life itself. He was everything to...”

 

Sevilen had startled when Ramose's name had been spoken. Before Bayram could continue, he finished for the man. “... Weni. You have Weni's eyes and though you are my Bayram, you are him, also.”

 

“And you are my Ramose. I love you, Sevilen. Am I still your beloved?”

 

Sevilen's hand reached across the table to find his servant's, whose fingers wrapped around his own. Sevilen said, “Always you are my beloved. Now and forever shall I love you.”

 

In Jeeves' mind an image of his bed in London came, and the personal attendant knew that soon he would awake in his own time. Hastening to Sevilen's side, Jeeves placed a hand on the man's shoulder and tried to give him a strong sense that he could trust Bayram.

 

When next Jeeves became aware of his surroundings, he was resting, on his side, in his bed in London. He sat up and switched on the lamp so quickly that his eyes stung from the sudden bright light. Still blinking, Jeeves took up the pen and began writing. When he was finished, he glanced at the clock. It was only four am. Jeeves wondered if he would have another dream.

 

Switching the light off, Jeeves settled into the bed and reflected over his recent dreams. One thing stood out to him; in every time it was his friend who had changed their relationship from one of friendship to a permanent love. True, Jason had stated that he would always love Bion first, but he had done so when his friend had sought the comfort of those words. It had been Bion that had arranged for the two to spend their lives together.

 

This time, Jeeves determined, this time it will be me that first states those three words. He wanted to be the first to say I love you despite the risk to his heart. And, Jeeves reflected, he knew how to bring the subject up now. He would tell Mr. Wooster the story of Ramose and Weni. If his employer made it clear that he disliked inverts as the result of his tale... Jeeves rolled to his side and swallowed back the bile of fright he felt. If Mr. Wooster felt negatively toward inverts, Jeeves could try to gradually change his master's opinion, but it would mean that his hope for a mutual love would be greatly diminished. The valet did not expect his master to know about Ramose and Weni; his dreams were probably due to his imagination, but if Mr. Wooster viewed his narrative in a favourable light, Jeeves would speak of his love.

 

With the words, “I want it to be me this time,” on his lips, Jeeves returned to slumber.

 

Tbc