A/N- Thank you SOOO MUCH for sticking with this story! I hope it doesn't disappoint :) Here, the crucial character Myriamsa is introduced. Think Patti LuPone as Joan Clayton/Dr. John Seward in "Penny Dreadful". The badass, take-no-prisoners bitch with a heart of gold, small but mighty. Enjoy!
Chapter 9- Myriamsa
At first there was only darkness and pain. Pain that started beneath her jaw and radiated out in merciless waves across her face. Some of her teeth felt loose in her mouth. There was other pain. Worse pain. Lower pain. Pain that was coming from between her-
Sarah jerked her eyes open. She was completely bewildered; nothing was familiar. She went to sit up, only to notice that she was on a firm mattress, surrounded by warm, hand-quilted blankets made of homespun cloth. Her head was covered in a damp rag made from the same material, propped up on a pillow that smelled of drying in the sunshine and afternoon breezes. At first her vision was blurry, so she blinked several times to try and clear the fog, but that only served to make her violently dizzy. Her stomach clutched in response, and Sarah groaned and leaned back into the bed, praying the assault on her senses would stop. An unfamiliar feminine, though harsh, voice made its way through the internal din to her ears,
"Finally awake, are we?"
Sarah turned her head frantically, her vision still blurred, trying to find the source of the voice; things came to her only in muddy masses, their edges rough and undefined. The best she could tell, she was in a small room, and there was a fireplace along one wall with a small fire going. Little bundles she couldn't define hung from the ceiling like an infant's mobile, their unfamiliarity only making Sarah more agitated. A hand gently but firmly grasped her shoulder, seeking to steady her movements. Sarah whimpered in fear, and jerked away. Another hand came to her other shoulder, trying to coax her to lie back down. The voice returned,
"It's all right. He's gone. You're all right."
Sarah immediately stopped. He's gone? Who's gone? Rasha? No, she said "he". Rasha. Where was she? They had been walking- no riding- no, Sarah had been walking, and Rasha had walked away. Where did she go? She had called out, "Rasha, where are you?" There had been no response, and then a wolf had come out of the woods. No, not a wolf, a man…
Sarah lurched forward, her stomach turning. The woman clucked, "There it is. Get it all out," as Sarah's stomach emptied itself into some receptacle the woman had thankfully produced. She patted Sarah's back roughly, encouraging her to expel everything.
The man. That horrible man. He had pulled her, pushed her, tied her up, struck her-
Wait, what happened then?
"What happened?" Sarah asked, though her voice sounded rough and unfamiliar, dry and cracked like a desert. Her vision was beginning to clear, and Sarah could see she was indeed in what looked like a small, personal bedroom. The bundles on the ceilings were drying herbs, suspended by little ribbons of cloth. The room appeared to be made of earth or mud; it gave the appearance of being underground, until Sarah noticed stone was worked into the construction of the walls as well as mud. A rough approximation of a doorway was covered by more cloth, cutting it off from the rest of the dwelling. Sarah rubbed her eyes in exhaustion. She felt like she had been hit by a freight train.
"You were raped," the woman stated matter-of-factly, not an ounce of sympathy to be heard.
Sarah jerked her head up to look at the woman full in the face for the first time. She was a short, stout woman, mouse-brown hair cropped close to her head. A prominent nose protruded from her face, giving her harsh, critical expression a more hawk-like appearance. She was dressed in a thicker, gray cloth, wrapped in layers to form a simple tunic. She perched on the edge of her bed, staring at Sarah with an unnerving intensity, dark brown eyes burning. Sarah's mouth went dry, and her empty stomach lurched again. In a small voice, she said,
"...raped?"
"Yes," the woman replied again, still so business-like, as if they were discussing the weather.
"I heard a scream while I was out strolling on my lands…" and here the woman narrowed her eyes in accusation, as if Sarah had knowingly trespassed. Sarah shrank back before she could stop herself.
"...and I followed them until I found you and that monster. Managed to knock him out fairly easily," she gestured to a sheleighly stick resting in the corner of the room. Sarah turned her head and admired the staff's smooth, polished wood before turning her gaze back to the woman.
"Though I admit I was too late. He had already finished." Sarah thought for a moment, before the horrifying realization clicked in her brain. "Oh." Was all she could muster in response.
"Yes, these old bones don't run as fast as they used to. Could have spared you, but then maybe you would have spared yourself if you hadn't been wandering around at night…"
The implication came through clear even through Sarah's disoriented state, and it angered her.
"I wasn't just wandering around!" Sarah spat in her defense. "I was…" she trailed off, not quite sure how to phrase it.
The woman leaned in, her gaze even sharper. "Well?"
"I was...searching for something. With a friend."
The woman laughed out loud, throwing her head back, "I certainly hope you have a better story than that for your husband!"
Sarah blanched. Jareth. How would she ever be able to explain? He had told her he wouldn't agree to let her back to her world with his help in order to keep her safe, and at the first opportunity, she had been assaulted before she even left the realm. He would be proven right in the most painful of ways. But then, surely he would have pity on her? After all, Rasha-
"Rasha!" Sarah exclaimed, wondering what had become of her. Had that monstrous man gotten his hands on her, too?
"Who, your little friend?" The woman interjected sharply. "I saw her wandering back out of the woods with her two horses. Didn't think anything of her until I saw you with that man." Here the woman stood and walked over to the hearth in the small room, leaning against the stoneface. "Pretty obvious what happened."
It may have been obvious to her, but it wasn't to Sarah. Why would Rasha just leave her like that? Even if she remained hidden to save herself, why would she leave and then take both horses?
"No," Sarah stated with finality, disagreeing with this stranger's estimation of her friend. "She wouldn't have left me like that."
"She wouldn't have, huh?" The woman sneered. She advanced on Sarah, bringing her face inches from Sarah's own. "Do you even know where you are?"
Sarah in her addled state had lost her patience with this woman's brash manner. "Your lands?" Sarah retorted drily.
A soft chuckle. "Yes, but do you know why their my lands?" The woman stood and crossed her arms, "because no one else wants them."
Sarah was entirely confused.
"Why doesn't anyone else want them?"
"They're poor for farming." The woman replied simply. "Only the hardiest herbs and flowers grow here. Nothing cultivated will grow. And those stupid townspeople have long since forgotten the value of letting the land be the land." Here she sneered in complete disgust. "They think if they can't bend it to their will, it's useless."
Sarah considered this.
"Then how is it obvious what happened to me? Why Rasha left me?"
To Sarah's complete surprise, a twinge of sympathy crossed the woman's face. She continued,
"Nothing grows out here, so no one of use comes out here. Only the dregs. Sex, drugs, violence- I've seen it all. Proper people can find places in town for their business. No one comes out here unless they're looking to hide from the light of day, or the prying eyes of their goody neighbors."
She crossed the room back towards Sarah, and stood at the foot of the small bed, her arms still crossed.
"Figured your friend was here for some deal since she wasn't on her back underneath some man. The two horses confused me, though. Then I saw you and that demon. Saw you were knocked out cold. Too much a coincidence for her to be out here and not have something to do with what happened to you. I think she left to hang you out to dry." The woman leaned in,
"Did she?"
Sarah stared. Logic told her one thing. Her heart told her another. Sarah didn't know which to believe.
"She wouldn't."
The woman leaned back, certainty on her face.
"She did."
"She couldn't…"
The woman walked forward, and reached out her hand to take Sarah's chin in her palm.
"She. Did. And the sooner you accept that, the sooner you can suck out the poison and go on with your life."
Sarah sprang into action, her head much clearer, and threw her legs from underneath the covers. She wasn't entirely steady on her feet, and pain still radiated from pelvis, but Sarah pushed past the feelings. Rasha. She had so severely underestimated her. Hadn't she seen this very act play out on dozens of other courtesans, watching from her throne, thinking it would keep her safe from such machinations? Slithering and scheming, working behind the scenes to pull strings that would topple an enemy. Had she really been naive enough to think that merely being Jareth's wife, the queen, would protect her from their plots? She had to get to Jareth; she didn't know why, but she could feel deep in her bones that something was horribly wrong, and that it was urgent she get to him before anyone else could.
"Where are you going?" The woman questioned.
"I have to leave. I have to get to Jareth before-" Sarah froze. She realized her mistake too late. She gaped at the woman in fear.
"Jareth? As in king Jareth?" The woman had an incredulous look on her face. No matter. Sarah didn't have time to explain.
"Yes," she rushed out, " and now I have to get back to him. I have to tell him what's happened. I have to tell him- ahhhh!" Sarah collapsed. A searing pain boiled through her brain bringing tears to her eyes. She gripped her head in her hands, immobile and prisoner to the agony. She felt the cool cloth on her forehead once again, and the woman's hands on her shoulders, urging her gently back to the bed.
"You're not going anywhere in this state. Accept that."
Sarah laid back against the pillows, finding her prone form was the only thing that brought even a little relief to the burning ache in her head. After a few moments and the worst of the pain passed, she cracked an eye to look at the woman. The same twinge of sympathy on her face.
"Whatever that woman wanted to accomplish is done. You've been out like this for two days. Whatever she hoped to do in that time has been done."
Sarah felt hot tears of hopelessness sting her eyes. Two days?
"Two days?" She voiced aloud.
The woman nodded.
"Yes, and it was touch and go for a while. But I managed to bring you 'round. Look," the woman took Sarah's hand in her, a shockingly touching action from someone so seemingly heartless, "you're in no state to travel. Stay here. If you leave before you're ready, you may pass out again, and I don't think I have the strength to haul you here again."
Sarah stared at the wall with grim resolution. This woman was right. The damage had been done and Sarah was in no shape to leave and begin putting it to rights.
"Besides," the woman continued, "you need your rest. Wouldn't be good for the baby to go traipsing around the woods in your condition."
Sarah was jarred from her current problem into a much worse one.
"...baby?" Sarah whispered, aghast, "how could you possibly know I'm pregnant?! You yourself said it's only been two days!" Sarah was screeching now.
The woman smiled a smug, knowing smile.
"You really don't have any idea where you are, do you?
Sarah stared, disbelieving.
"You said we're on your lands, what the hell does that have to do with anything?!"
The woman's smile widened.
"Then you don't have any idea who I am, do you?"
Sarah's disbelief was bleeding into anger.
"NO! Why would I?!"
The woman stood, walking over to Sarah where she lay and took her chin in her palm once more, a self-satisfied expression on her face.
"You beautiful, dumb thing. I'm Myriamsa. And if you listen to me, you may just survive here after all."
OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo
This was bad. This was very bad.
Upon her return to the castle, Rasha had spun her elaborate, carefully-thought out tale to the king. Some story about how the queen had been meeting Lukan regularly in the woods outside the palatial city for months. Rasha had tried, oh she had tried so desperately, to convince the queen to stop her savage behavior, but the queen would not be deterred. Rasha informed the king that she could no longer hide this treasonous behavior from him.
Everything after that had gone swimmingly. Jareth had reacted expectantly by destroying everything in the room in a fit of rage, then demanding Rasha take him to this secret tryst location. That's where things went to hell.
Rasha obeyed, and the king followed, 10 of his personal bodyguards in tow, ready to imprison everyone, but when they happened upon the location, all they found was Lukan passed out, pants around his ankles, and a goose egg on his forehead. Sarah was nowhere.
Rasha's plan had been in freefall. The king had demanded to know where his wife was. Rasha didn't have a response. She couldn't form the next part of the plan because she genuinely didn't know where Sarah was. She couldn't afford to spin such a careless lie at this stage of the game. So for the moment, she was honest. She really couldn't tell the king where his wife was because she really didn't know.
The king responded by sending his soldiers far and wide in search of her. Rasha carefully urged him to keep the real reason for her disappearance a secret- no one else needed to know about Sarah's poor decisions. The king had listened, blessedly. Secretly, Rasha knew it was because he wanted to avoid the whole of the kingdom finding out about Sarah's alleged infidelity and demanding her execution, as the law was clear on. Rasha had other motives for hiding Sarah's actions.
She wanted to make her pay. Pay for stealing the throne from her. Pay by watching her fall apart on the stand at a trial as she struggled to answer basic questions about what had happened between her and Lukan. Pay by realizing too late that Rasha was never her best friend, but her worst enemy. The idiot.
But as the days rolled by and turned into a week, even Rasha was getting nervous. If Sarah never reappeared, it would take at least 3 years for the king's advisory council to pronounce her legally dead, delaying Rasha's eventual marriage to Jareth even further. By then, there would be younger, more eligible, more fertile choices for the king to wed. Rasha ground her teeth in frustration.
8 days. 8 days it had taken. Rasha was with the king in his bed chambers. Luckily for Rasha, in those 8 days of Sarah's absence, she had been able to convince the king a little quid pro quo was in order; Sarah had betrayed him before her very eyes. In fact, the horror of such behavior had driven Rasha from her hiding place and straight to the king to confess Sarah's treason. It had taken a little longer that Rasha thought it would, but eventually one late night Jareth had played right into her plan, throwing her on his bed and savagely fucking her until he finally laid still, gripping Rasha by the throat. Rasha didn't take it personally. He was angry- angry at Sarah, angry at her betrayal. Rasha would just wear high-necked gowns for now, and continue being the willing "attendant" who soothed the king's troubled heart by spreading her legs. 8 days after her initial disappearance, and Rasha was lying on the bed recovering after a particularly brutal session with Jareth, rubbing her neck to encourage blood flow back to the skin. The doors to his private chambers flew open, a bewildered-looking guard standing in the door. Jareth snapped his gaze to the intruder, naked before his vanity. He never stays with me after, Rasha thought absently.
"My king!" The guard announced, "The Queen has returned!"
