Wouldn’t just a little magic be helpful sometimes?
Well, maybe, depending on your control.
Yesterday we had a peek at Jareth, First Lord. why don’t we take a look at Viviane, First Lady today?
After her outburst the day of their betrothal, Jareth and Herrick–Viviane’s father–discuss her apparent Talents. Since they have appeared, she will have to train them so they don’t get out of hand.
In talking with Jareth later, Viviane learns a little about what it was like for her husband and First Lord when he was growing up, with all his Talents.
Excerpt from Viviane, First Lady
“Boys will be boys,” he told her, eyes twinkling in delight. “You know the kind of stuff young lads get into. Fighting and teasing the girls. Fighting over the girls. Fighting with the girls. My dad’s stronger than your dad.”
“But it must have been a little different growing up with talent,” she insisted.
“That’s where part of the trouble came from. With all the mischief boys can get into without talent, imagine how much trouble you can cause with talent, if you want to.” She looked at him questioningly.
“Sometimes you just want to fight, but nobody else does. You don’t want to have it get out that you started the fight, so you kind of reach out, plant a suggestion, toy with emotions a little bit… You get the idea.”
“You can’t be serious.” He shrugged his shoulders and rolled his eyes at her. “I can’t believe, well I guess really I can. But honestly, how mean and underhanded is that?”
“That’s why Dad and I had our fights half of the time. When your dad is First Lord and knows you have a penchant for mischief, he can usually back track the mischief to its source. It took me a while to catch on,” he confided.
“Annie said you and your dad used to have fights and they sometimes got really out of hand.”
“Yes, well, I had a bit of temper in my younger days,” he said, as if he had none now, “and Dad had a bit of temper too. When all our temper collided and control started to slip it could get a little exciting.”
“I should think losing one’s temper is fairly usual at a young age,” Viviane said.
“Yes, but I had a way of getting under Dad’s skin. Once in a while his control would slip, too. That’s when things started getting weird.”
“Weird? What do you mean?”
He chuckled, thinking back on the scenes of his childhood. “When you’re young and angry, you sometimes think the old man is past it, so you decide to use the energies you can control against him. When he deflects them and they start breaking things, it can get a little weird. And when his temper began to take over, it was like the immovable object and the unstoppable force. The increasing tension from all the energy had to go somewhere, but where was anybody’s guess.”
“But you’re not supposed to use energies to harm, only to heal,” Viviane protested. “Certainly you knew that.”
“Yeah, but there’s a difference between knowing something and comprehending it. As an object lesson once or twice, Dad decided to turn the tables. After I had unleashed a series of attacks against him, which he neutralized, he thought it would be good for me to experience a little dose of it myself.”
“What happened?” Viviane asked.
He looked at her for a moment, sort of halfway between shamefaced and mischievous.
“Let’s just say that the wall is a very hard thing to hit at speed. After I regained my senses, still angry but confused, he made me clean up the mess I’d made of the room, quite literally.”
“I don’t quite understand what you mean,” she said, trying to see the picture.
“Do you have any idea how humiliating it is to have someone else in control of your motor centers? Or to be forced to clean up broken crockery, vases, and spilled flowers, when what you really want to do is to break something else? Preferably over his head.”
“Good heavens!” she laughed. “But sooner or later he had to let go of his control.”
“Yeah, after he had marched me forcibly down to my masters and had me confined in a shielded room for three days. Not to mention, I was on disciplinary rations until my temper faded and I’d gained a little understanding and respect.”
Viviane started to chuckle, and then laughed heartily at the scene she imagined. He glared at her for a moment, before he joined her in laughter.
“Anyway, that was quite a while back. It was one of my first real insights into what the power of a trained First Lord could be. I began to understand how important control is.”
“Well, you won’t have to worry about me starting any duels with you,” Viviane stated firmly. “I’m beginning to understand what my talents are and I am certain yours are greater than mine. It would be kind of like a flea picking a fight with a tiger.”
“Come on, flea,” he told her, grinning, “let’s see what we can rustle up for dinner.”
“Bad tiger! Down boy! Be good, or there’ll be no treats tonight.”
“We’ll just see about that.”
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So reach out for a little magic! It’s the weekend!
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