literature

Marital Arts Part 10 -The Wreckage caused in Anger

Deviation Actions

cosmicwind's avatar
By
Published:
484 Views

Literature Text

"Titania, a moment?"
"Yes, Oberon?" Putting aside the box of jewelry she was still holding, Titania stood up from her settee and walked over to her husband, who was waiting out in the hallway just outside the door opening, his bright orange tunic straining over his powerful chest the way fashion edicted these days. He appeared rested; still there was a concerned look in his blue eyes as he regarded his Queen. Remaining seated, a troubled Uriel watched them go. How much had his father overheard?

Titania accompanied Oberon down the hallway which ran through the castle wing, worried that her husband might have caught something of her conversation with Uriel. It almost felt like the people on the oil paintings lining the wall were regarding her with apprehension, their eyes scrutinizing the royal couple as they walked. Titania's furry, gray and black cat followed them a few steps, but then she seemed to consider her mistress being able to take care of herself, so sat down on her hind legs, and with a tilted head she was regarding Titania and Oberon as they went on.

If Oberon had heard parts of the story of Duncan, he didn't show it with in any way. Nevertheless, Titania feared what he might do. She had confessed that she had had a lover in Briton and Oberon seemed to have given it a reluctant acceptance. But she had never told him of the passion between herself and the Englishman. She'd never let all her thoughts and feelings show on her face. She had some pride after all.

"What is it you wish to speak to me about?" she finally questioned, trying to sound polite without being obsequious.
"What was it Uriel had to say that he couldn't confer with me about as well?"
"Pardon me?"

His cerulean eyes narrowed, recognizing the evasive in her tone.
"Don't play counterfeit with me, Titania! I heard enough to know that something happened in Briton which concerns you. What has occurred? Which of our Elven Tribes is it? And why didn't Uriel come to speak to the both of us about it?"

While she was relieved that he hadn't caught the reference to a certain Human soldier, she wondered what to say. There really wasn't much she could tell Oberon that wouldn't offend him. His mood seemed especially tetchy today so she chose her words cautiously.
"Our son felt it best to share his disquiets with me first."
"Why?" he ground out through taut lips.
"It concerns Lorelei and - let's just say he wanted another woman's advice," she coolly lied. "He might as well have asked one of his sisters, I just happened to be around."
"And why should not a son share with his father?"

Titania's eyes blazed shortly before she reigned in her temper.
"That is entirely up to Uriel, not me. He's a grown up man, more than enough competent to handle his qualms on his own. I can only advise him to talk to you, if I feel there's something to gain from such a counsel. Which conclusion I hadn't even begun to arrive to at this time. Whatever, I fail to see where you are going with this."
"I don't want secrets in my house," the Elven king roared. "I don't want things discussed behind my back." Suddenly stopping in his tracks and getting right into her face, he grasped her by the arms and forced her to stay in place when she made a move to step away. He could see the flecks in her eyes that spoke of her ire - and dawning fear of him.

"Why are you so worried about secrets?" the Queen spat angrily as she returned his glare. "Getting paranoid, husband? That happens to Kings, I've heard. However, it's not as if anything that was said between Uriel and me that could possibly harm you. Haven't you pointed out to me, countless of times, that just because two people converse in private, it doesn't necessarily mean that they're up to something?"
"Don't throw my words back into my face, Titania!"  
"Why shouldn't I?" she defied him and broke free from his grip, taking a step to the side as if planning to return the way they had come. "You never listen to anything I have to say so perhaps your own words might mean something to you."
"I might listen, if you ever said anything that mattered."

"If nothing I say is ever listened to, then I assume I can tell exactly what I think of you. You won't hear me anyway," Titania retorted, beyond caring how her words may sound. It had been quite some time since fury had flowed through her veins in such an empowering fashion. "You are nothing more than a selfish, tyrannical brute who feel powerful only when you dominate and brutalize another. You don't know a thing about controlling yourself or respecting or caring about anybody else and that is why you can never regain me. I'll never come back to you like some naive, blind fool. I need more than you are man enough to provide. Not that I expect you to be able to understand the difference!"

Finishing her tirade, she turned on her heel and walked swiftly away, heading back towards her suite, her bare feet noiseless as cat's paws on the tiles, turquoise silk dress fluttering behind her like the gossamer wings of a monarch butterfly. But Oberon's big hand rested on her shoulder and he whirled her back around to face him. Holding her shoulder in the palm of his hand, he pulled her face in level with his own.
"I would think carefully before you speak, wife, for I can make your life more difficult than it already is."
"You do that already by merely existing," she responded, her ice cold voice seemed to drop the temperature in the hallway by several degrees.

Hearing this, Oberon went deathly still. All of his doubts, his fears, and his uncertainty about his place in Titania's life hit him like a bolt. Her words left him open, raw to the idea that he had lost her for good. That body of hers might have been in his bed but her mind wasn't fully open to his own. The bound they once had shared was broken. He didn't know anymore were he stood with her. His face paled, making his fiery eyes more frightening to behold as his anger flared to life, focused solely on her in a way it never earlier had.

Not once had Titania seen such an expression of unleashed rage upon her husband's face. His daunting ferocity was something to behold – although by no means in a good way. When the harsh blow came, it stunned her, whipped her head about. The moment became frozen, saturated, the brightness highlighted, the shadows darkened and the colours washed away. Shocked green eyes met his equally startled ones but his were veiled quickly while hers became filled with slight tears. Neither of them could believe that he had actually struck her.

"Guard your tongue, woman! You were way out of line now." Oberon's words were uttered low and oddly emotionless before he spun around and stalked off, leaving her standing in shock, a hand rising to rest on her bruised cheek as betrayal radiated from the eyes she kept lowered. He was shaking with the adrenaline rush of the reaction, unable to believe what he'd done. He'd never – no matter the provocation – hit her. It had always been a matter of pride to him that he refrained from being so brutal to her. What was he becoming?

Now, Uriel came running out in the hallway, troubled by the risen sounds of the argument.
"Oh, mother," he shook his head, having caught the tail end of their conversation. "I'm sorry."

Having turned a pale face at the sound of his voice, Titania waved off his apology before the door in the far end of the corridor slammed shut, making her flinch. Wrapping her arms about herself and biting back the salty tears that stung beneath her eyelids, she glanced over her shoulder to face the path Oberon had stalked down. The personal hug did no good to ward off her constant shaking.
"It wasn't your fault, Uri. I shouldn't have provoked him as I did."
"Mother..." he started, uncertain what to say, how to comfort her. It made him feel ill at ease to hear her make excuses for what had happened between his father and her.

"Perhaps you should keep your distance from now on, dear. Oberon seems to be suspicious that some attempt at rebellion is occurring between us," her lips quirked weakly, as if trying to smile at the regrettably sad joke.
"Say again, mother?" Uriel was staring back at her, a dark eyebrow raised in question, though in all honesty the idea had crossed his mind a few times.
"Sometimes he can behave like an ass," she sighed, rubbing her arms to ward off the chill she felt. "And to be true, even though he still hasn't reached his middle ages, it should've been time for him to name his heir. His reluctance to do so may spur plotting and scheming, if not outright rebellion. His own great grandfather Garion rebelled against his mother Alsandra when she failed to name an heir among all her sixteen children. And the slippery slope the Court embarked on because of that almost tore the country apart; we were this close to civil war." Titania indicated with her thumb almost touching her index finger, cobalt nails gleaming. "But of course you know that already. There's very little more to say about all those old Elves who have been dead since long."

"Mother," Uriel stopped for a moment before saying what he honestly thought. "You should leave him. Permanently this time."
"I can't," Titania whispered, so softly he almost missed it.
"Why not?" he asked, noticing the shadow in her eyes as she glanced over her shoulder. She was right - Oberon could come back any moment. And if that was his reaction to a mere talk, who knew what he'd do if he saw them still conversing.

"For what's good or bad, right or wrong, Oberon is still my husband and I owe him my allegiance. Him - and our nation - as a Queen of it." Titania studied her son's expression and knew of his genuine apprehension for her. "It's not that I don't appreciate your concern, dear, and I won't insult your intelligence by saying that I haven't thought about annulling this marriage. Plenty of times in fact. However for now he's my husband."

"He doesn't deserve this steadfast loyalty. Not in this manner." Uriel shook his head, sadness showing in the blue orbs of his eyes. "Yes, I agree that you do owe him your loyalty as he is the King of the Elves – we all do. But not as his spouse if this is how he treats you."
"How much you know and yet, how little you understand," she sighed. Almost a century ago, she had made her choice, when she took Oberon as her husband. A Prince back then, a widowed and childless heir to the throne. Her commitment to him had been to stand by him no matter what happened. How naïve she had been, she could see it now since this had been coming for a long time.

Dismayed that she would not listen to him, Uriel nevertheless let it be. This was his mother's decision. Though he wished it was otherwise, he knew he couldn't change her mind now, she wouldn't be amenable to his reasoning. He couldn't force her to leave Oberon anymore than he could stop the sun from rising in the east. Taking a chance, he wrapped his arms around his mother, pulling her into his embrace. His sensitive and intelligent mother, how tiny she suddenly felt in his arms. Ignoring her stiff posture, he held on, warming her up. All the same, he kept his mind aware of what was going on around them. Oberon could not find them like this, innocent though the embrace between a son and his mother was.
"Perhaps I do, mother," he responded dryly as he rubbed her thin shoulders and upper arms. "Or perhaps it's just wishful thinking from my side."

Feeling warmer inside her soul, the Queen moved away from her son. With the intuition a woman is known for, she could sense that Uriel was feeling a great lot more worry for her than he should.
"We've all been there done that from time to time, I know the feeling, love. But let it go! I'm going to do so at least."
"Your face?" Uriel asked, though the bruise was very faint now. Their Elven magic powers made for a faster healing and his touch had aided her recovery. Only the one who knew she'd been hit could see the signs.
"Will finish healing soon," she replied, a transient smile gracing her lips. "Thanks for caring nevertheless, Uriel. By nightfall, it will be merely a memory to you and me."

"And to him?"
"I bet he has forgotten about it already. He's probably in council now, and can't care less for my welfare or my feelings."
"I hope it's not so. However, I also have to go. Duty calls me too."
"I'll see you tonight then, Uri." She gave his arm a light squeeze and without another word, she proudly walked down the hallway back the way she had come, leaving Uriel looking at her back, feeling a stab in his heart at his mother's unhappiness.

He saw her bend down and pick up her cat just before she disappeared into her rooms again and then he heard the soft click as she closed the yonder door to the suite. However he remained standing for a while, playing over the scene and their conversation in his mind, before he turned and started heading back to the other palace wing, the one which held his office at the second floor.

"Why so moody, beloved?" a voice spoke as he turned a corner.
"Oh, nothing, Lorelei." He turned to look at his wife who had shown up from the other direction, dressed in a flowing creation of pink and white silk, the white having a mother-of-pearl quality to it which made it shimmer in the sunlight falling in from the windows. Her blonde hair shone as well and she had a healthy, rosy look in her face, still there was worries gleaning in her sapphire eyes.
"Sure it's something!" she walked up to him and placed a slender hand on his hip. "Come on now; ease your heart for Lorelei!"
"It's my mother," he sighed. "She and father had another fight, and they are starting to get to her now. She's heartbroken and he cannot see it. He treats her like a possession."

"I've noticed. She didn't look like a million of ducats when she came here three weeks ago - and yesterday I thought she appeared even more pallid. Almost - betrayed. It aches my heart! Still you should be careful to obviously taking her side, Uri. Who knows what your father might make out of it, with his obsession with loyalty?! The day he announces his heir he might remember that you chose your mother's side in their disagreement."
"Probably, but someone has to protect her. If I fail in that, then Father might as well appoint Ariel or Sandor as his heir. Because if I can't even protect my mother then I can hardly be expected to protect my motherland and in that case I'm not worthy of carrying the crown of the Elves."

Lorelei thought his words made painful sense - the things Uriel said had an annoying habit of doing so. He had a way of understanding things which somehow seemed to go beyond what a mere Elf should fathom. It made it a tad uncomfortable to be around him. Even she, his wife, didn't like to be faced with too many uncomfortable truths.
"Have you considered asking Lynatra?" Lorelei suggested. "I would imagine she'd have a great deal to say about this marital controversy because of her own experience with Orland. In some respects, this parallels it."
"I haven't thought of that," the dark haired elf admitted.
"Just a word of warning," she reminded him, her hand travelling upwards, caressing his shoulder and then his stubbled cheek. "You should take care if you talk with her; she might as well side with her son."

"I take the risk," Uriel replied. "After all my Grandma never held any great love for Father. Her favourite was always Oranon. She thought him the misunderstood genius of the family while Oberon was the go-getter with brusque manner and very little heart."

Lorelei nodded her head in sympathy while saying nothing in return. He had done it again, telling her truths no one should've understood. After all Uriel had been but ten years old when Oranon had died so what could he really have remembered? As far as Lorelei was concerned, senior-queen Lynatra had never with a single gesture shown that she disrespected her oldest son.

***

Ariel sighed before she removed the onyx ear bobs she had been wearing and undid the clasp to the matching drop necklace. They had both been gifts from HIM and not only had the sharp-eyed Lorelei commented on them that evening. She slumped into her chair and looked into the mirror. Her dark hair had all but collapsed from the elaborate updo she had rushed to style earlier in the evening. She took out the gilded pins and when the last one was removed, she picked up her hairbrush and started brushing her hair mindlessly, until it crackled with static electricity.

Iron, but she couldn't get that man out of her mind! Suddenly, she remembered how he had touched her under the table. Why had he done that? Because he knew he could? Because he desired her in that way he desired most women regardless of their stature? She should have felt violated, appalled but she remembered the shivers that had gone up her spine and how the small hairs on her naked arms had stood up. It was a sensation of which likeness she almost had forgotten.

As she thought of him again, she wished she had taken him up on his suggestion of a nightcap but the moment had passed. There had been something in his eyes that hinted at - desire? Ariel decided that she needed to find out. In any case, who could blame her for having an affair? A divorcée and with three children already, it was not like she would drag any disgrace over the Royal House. The only thing she had to remember was to ensure herself of some general discretion and to protect herself. She still had a vial left since her marriage to Lord Eskiar and as late as last week she had made sure that the magic was still at work within the concoction.

The corners of Ariel's rosy mouth began to curl upwards as a plan begun to take shape in her head. She walked over to the door and leaned towards it, her ear cocked, to see if she could hear any movement in the vicinity. But it was dead silent, the stillness broken only by her own breathing. Nobody was around. She smiled slightly while she contemplated what to do.

***

PUCK:
My fairy lord, this must be done with haste,
For night's swift dragons cut the clouds full fast,
And yonder shines Aurora's harbinger;
At whose approach, ghosts, wandering here and there,
Troop home to churchyards: damned spirits all,
That in crossways and floods have burial,
Already to their wormy beds are gone;
For fear lest day should look their shames upon,
They willfully themselves exile from light
And must for aye consort with black-brow'd night.

OBERON:
But we are spirits of another sort:
I with the morning's love have oft made sport,
And, like a forester, the groves may tread,
Even till the eastern gate, all fiery-red,
Opening on Neptune with fair blessed beams,
Turns into yellow gold his salt green streams.
But, notwithstanding, haste; make no delay:
We may effect this business yet ere day.
[William Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream Act 3, Scene 2]
Marital arts.

**********************

A story dealing with some of my favourite Shakespearian Characters in a somewhat different setting.

*******************
Read the rest of the novella here: [link]
© 2012 - 2024 cosmicwind
Comments0
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In