Coven

Nara Occult

Summary: 5 Witches. 4 Warlords. 3 Kindred. 2 Abuses of fruit. 1 Lucivar Yaslana. Pranks. Romance. Revenge. Explosions! Scelt is never going to be the same! Little Terreille has another thing coming! HEIR's Canon Characters! Beta'd by Erkith.
Disclaimers: I do not own the Realms, Characters or the Black Jewels Trilogy by Anne Bishop, and make no profit from this.

Chapter 12: Karla Wonders

The blonde girl stared at the letter in silence. Another demand from the Dark Council. Another so-called socialising event. More boys demanding kisses, and dark looks in their eyes telling her they wanted more than she had to give.

“They want you back again don’t they?” the acid tongued Sapphire Queen asked slowly.

“I leave today.” Jaenelle replied hollowly, and Karla cursed as she saw all the good that the holiday had done Jaenelle stripped away before her eyes. The eyes of her best friend were haunted and strained again.

Karla sometimes wondered exactly what had happened to Jaenelle, but a sinking feeling inside threatened to rear its head like a frightening monster every time she tried. When their friends were around and Jaenelle was smiling, she could pretend that she hadn’t run to Saetan SaDiablo for sanctuary from her own uncle, could pretend she didn’t see beneath Jaenelle’s little-girl mask, could pretend she hadn’t heard Jaenelle’s nightmares. The cries had kept her awake in her bed shivering, not daring to move, filled with an icy rage that threatened to overwhelm her. How dare someone hurt her?

That night Karla had slept with a stuffed toy for the first time since she’d arrived at the SaDiablo residence. Karla knew enough from Morton that Jaenelle had been hurt, badly. And she knew enough that the violation had been from a male… in the worst way possible. Oh Morton hadn’t been able to voice it, nor had he tried. It had been easily read in the way his fists clenched and unclenched, the way his voice broke halfway through her name… the way he’d shadowed Karla everywhere afterwards, glaring at the males who would have liked to force her to submit, and glaring only a little more softly at the males who were still untouched by the taint.

Karla could only imagine the betrayal and sickness Morton would have felt, knowing him. Despite the fact that Morton had no control over what other people did, Morton would still have stood in front of the mirror, wondering if he should be cursing his gender. The male anatomy… it was a tool that could give pleasure to a loved partner… or be wielded as a weapon. Karla was thankful that she’d never fallen for the opposite sex, had had no interest in the male species at all.

“I’m going with you.” Karla decided impulsively.

“Darling, you may be slim but you’re not that thin that they won’t notice an extra person.” Jaenelle smiled, and Karla reinforced her previous decision to go with Jaenelle.

“So what? They wanted you there so badly; they can accommodate your guest. Tagalongs are brought to ‘social gatherings’ all the time, and we can share a bed if we need to.” Karla grinned.

“You want to go that badly?” Jaenelle mused, and Karla seized on the excuse, regardless of knowing that neither believed it.

“I miss those Glacian parties so much.” Karla deadpanned.

“Well you’d better pack then. We leave in an hour.” Jaenelle replied, amused, and went to inform the others.

By the time Karla and Jaenelle were safely ensconced in the coach and looking somewhat sadly back at the waving figures disappearing into the distance, they were running a good hour off schedule. Morton had been understandably, worried about the both of them going. While Jaenelle had never discussed her reluctance and revulsion, the tension in everyone could be noticed and felt. But Jaenelle had firmly put down any suggestions that she not abide by the Dark Council’s instructions. Karla had looked pointedly at all of them, and stated simply that “One witch alone is prey. Two witches together can back each other up.”

“So what’s so bad about these parties? Too boring?” Karla tried flippantly, but Jaenelle sensed the need for the question to be answered.

“All the boys, and all the girls… and I can never fit in. I try so hard, but the girls…” Jaenelle whispered.

“They talk about dresses, when I’d rather be in overalls. They talk about politics when they should listen to the land. They talk about the need for strong males when there’s a bigger need for strong, compassionate Queens. They were makeup, they never say what they’re thinking, and all I can think is that nothing’s changed. When I’m in Little Terreille, it’s like I’m back in Challiot… in Briarwood.” Jaenelle closed her eyes and Karla shivered, remembering a snatch of a nightmare she’d overheard.

“Briarwood… Uncle Bobby… ROSE!”

“The boys… they don’t like me, but they want me. Their eyes are filled with hunger but not care. They don’t want me; they want a body, a mindless puppet. Little Terrielle grows more like its namesake… and I don’t know if I can do anything.” Jaenelle looked away in impotent disgust.

“Jaenelle… we all know who you are, but even… even you can’t fix the world. You know that right? You are not responsible for their decisions!” Karla said vehemenently.

Jaenelle just smiled sadly, and Karla’s rage crystallised. Anyone who wanted Jaenelle had to go through her first. And she’d gut any male who tried to use her best friend.

---

As Jaenelle drifted off to a fitful sleep, Karla remained awake, remembering the events of the night before. The Coven -perhaps sensing the need to cheer Jaenelle up- continued to play games, until Karla spoke up, needing to tell her tale… because it applied now more than ever.

“I want to tell you about how I met Jaenelle.” Karla announced, and the Coven grew watchful, but Morghann nodded her approval.

“I first met Jaenelle while I was staying with the hourglass. My mother and Morton’s died… when we were children, their consorts disappearing under equally suspicious circumstances not long after, and my uncle quickly stepped up to ‘help’ Glacian society,” Karla relayed in a steel-edged voice.

“The council that now has a strong foothold in Glacia was only beginning then, and I didn’t understand why we didn’t have our strongest Queen or Black Widow. The other Black Widows told me that Glacia was locked in a cold winter and that until I or another strong Queen grew old enough, society would remain fractured, because it was the only way we could stop both the creeping influence of Hayll and the male council.” Karla continued darkly. Glacia still lived in troubled times.

“And around me, in the villages and the towns, slowly things changed. The male council came up with the concept of instability in Black Widows and began to preach; the hourglass became feared and fewer students came. Rumors spread that good witches deferred to their consorts.” Karla relentlessly ignored the growing rage and unease permeating the room.

“And then one night, as I was staring into the stars and cursing the council, someone else agreed with me.” Karla paused, remembering.

Karla’s Memory…

“Gah, what is WRONG with the realms?!” Karla hissed in frustration, giving in to the urge to stamp her foot.

“Many things, sister.” Came a voice that sounded too solemn for the child it belonged to, until one saw her eyes.

“Who are you, and why are you here?” Karla asked suspiciously.

“I’m Jaenelle, and I’m here because I am. Who are you?” The girl replied warily.

“Karla. Black Widow in training. Queen. Healer. Sapphire.” Karla’s eyes narrowed, expecting a response from the witch who simply remained sitting next to her.

“Didn’t you hear me? I’m unstable.” Karla spat.

Jaenelle turned midnight eyes on Karla. “Are you?”

End Memory…

“…And from that moment on, we were friends. It didn’t matter that the other girls thought I was a freak, that the boys teased me, or that Hobart pressured me to return. I had Morton, who cheered me up, stayed with me during dull parties and promised to protect me…” Karla paused to smile at Morton.

“…And Jaenelle, who helped me with craft, argued with me on politics, and most of all, understood me.” Karla closed her eyes, sadness drawing a veil over her usually expressive face.

“And then one day Jaenelle disappeared, and everything changed again. I moved back to court under Lord Hobart, where Morton and I went to stuffy parties, hid in corners and caused controversy. I searched for Jaenelle, when Morton told me sometimes friends didn’t always stay friends. I called for her and called for her, until Morton was so worried he consented to deliver a letter to Uncle Saetan… and then it was just a matter of wearing scandalously man-ish clothes and rolling my eyes at stupid simpering bitch after stupid simpering bitch… and waiting for Jaenelle to return. Of course, Uncle Saetan’s influence helped a bit.” Karla grinned darkly.

“When we become Territory Queens, things will change sister.” Gabrielle promised, steel in every backbone of the room, the boyos silently promising the witches their protection… which they would need. Karla nodded, thinking of the fractured and damaged society in Glacia, the young girls learning to prance and pander to consorts…

Glacia is locked in an endless winter…

“We will, we will change things.” Morton said determinedly, reaching for Karla’s hand in a pledge, and Jaenelle looked at the Coven with a sad smile. She had no doubt that they would shake Kaeleer to its foundations, strip the evil from their lands, form alliances, and most importantly, remain true to themselves and their friendship.

The Shadow Realm was going to be glorious.