We’ve come to the end of the season. Don’t worry, as currently planned, there are two more seasons. Plenty of time for Jahlene and Mattin to get themselves out of (and in to) more trouble. Next week we’ll pick up with season 2 of Mighty Hero Force Epsilon, and see how our erstwhile sentai team is dealing with the trouble they had.
Season Content notes: con noncon*, pain play, sexual contact, trauma reactions, people handling emotions badly, rape (not explicit), torture (not explicit), pony play, mind fuck (minor), privileged ally is privileged, confronting abuser/assailant, miscommunications
Oeloff had brought Marta with him to court — it relieved and enraged Mattin every time he thought of it. Relieved because she was /right there/ and if their plan worked, he could take her out of Oeloff’s clutches immediately.
Enraged because, well, she was /right there/ suffering in front of him, and he could do nothing to stop it.
Jahlene had to attend many court functions. She hadn’t come here just to free Marta, though she was putting a great deal on the line to make it happen. But as Mattin had learned, politics, trade deals, and a great deal else happened at court.
Of course, Oeloff attended many of the same functions. Mattin didn’t fully understand the politics at play, but it seemed like Oeloff got less respect than he expected. More than once, Jahlene would enter a room with Mattin shadowing her, and various nobles would glance over to Oeloff, hiding grins and eye rolls.
In that, at least, Mattin’s presence was doing what the lady had wanted.
But on his third day at court, Oeloff began appearing with Marta in tow. The first time Mattin saw her, he nearly fell to the floor. Gone was the vivacious and proud sister he remembered: she stood hunched in on herself, and cringed whenever Oeloff glanced at her. Marta’s skin was pale, and her hair dull and lifeless. She bore no visible wounds—a blessing Mattin hadn’t dared hope for. But her spirit was broken. Each time he saw her, it ripped at him.
Court entertainments filled the days and evenings—a thin disguise for more politics. Oeloff made a point of seeking Jahlene out at least once each day. From the smug little looks he tossed Mattin’s way, he was sure the fae lord did it on purpose. In fact, without Jahlene’s known distaste for Oeloff’s preferred pleasures, Mattin would have needed to listen to Oeloff recount his use of Marta in detail. The stress affected him: he grew clumsy and distracted, and his service suffered. Mattin prayed daily for strength to hold himself together well enough not to shame Jahlene.
His control finally broke when Oeloff, with Marta in tow, “bumped” into them, for the third time in one day. Before he could yell or lash out, Jahlene noticed the change in his emotions and sent him back to her suite. “Sort out the day’s correspondence,” she said, “I’m tired of dealing with a mess on my desk every night.”
The bite in her voice jarred him back in control of himself. He allowed nothing to show on his face, but it made no difference. Every fae present would be aware of his shame—and the lady’s displeasure.
A few hours later, Jahlene managed to extricate herself from the entertainment and return to her rooms. A headache pounded away behind one eye, and she dreaded tackling the day’s paperwork.
She stopped when she saw her desk. Instead of the confusing mess of messages that arrived each day, there was a single file in the center of the desk and a stack of clearly labeled papers in one corner. A tray of food — simple things that would keep for a time and eat well cold — waited for her also. Mattin had been busy.
Jahlene ate while dictating her notes on the day’s politics to Parlen. When she finished dictating, she delved directly into the important matters from home — no need to sort through a pile of correspondence to find the things needing immediate attention.
As Jahlene started reading the first message, she blessed her inspiration to send Mattin back ahead of her. It not only got him away from Oeloff’s games, but made her day easier.
Before long, she was deep in her work and only vaguely aware of the world around her.
Mattin approached her desk while she was reviewing Brit’s handling of a storm that took out several bridges. When she glanced up, he signed a request for permission to speak. She nodded distractedly, listening with half an ear as she mentally composed a response.
“Lady, I am sorry I failed you.”
If he transfers Ollin to Trallway, they can get the bridge up faster, but… “Hm? Oh. Don’t worry, Mattin. I didn’t think you would be able to handle Oeloff’s games for long.” Now, the Unton bridge could wait, the ferry would… The wave of emotion from Mattin nearly knocked her from her chair. By the time she recovered, he had bowed himself out of the room.
Jahlene put the pen down before her shaking hands spattered ink across the pages. She tried to recall what she had said. Of course, Mattin wasn’t able to hold his composure — who could with Oeloff? The man was far too good at finding vulnerable points…. So why in the world had Mattin fled, his feelings screaming of shame and failure?
Mattin blinked eyes gone blurry as he hurried through the back corridors of the palace, carrying the empty dinner tray. Even if he failed in other areas—even if she expected him to fail—he could make sure she had what she needed.
What would happen if they failed to free Marta because he couldn’t control himself? Would Jahlene hold him to his service or throw him away?
Mattin had to do better. His hands fisted. He forced his shoulders to straighten, and let anger wash away despair. Just because the lady had no faith in him didn’t mean he was destined to fail.
He would succeed. Mattin nodded to himself in time with his firming thoughts.
He would.
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