Chapter Fourteen: Truth Hurts
The baby ordeal was not soon forgotten, but only days later it was taken off their minds for them. Nabila blew in with her usual ceremony, i.e. turning up unexpectedly in time for dinner. Her usually polished appearance was ruffled only slightly, but noticeably. Her grey hair was falling out of the elaborate bun it had been put up in, and her lilac silk dress was wrinkled in several places. Even her demeanor showed signs of strain.
Jareth jumped up, as did Malin, when she entered the room, although Jareth had no gentlemanly intention. Truth be told, he had been staring at Sarah the whole time from the corner of his eye while attempting to engage Malin in civil conversation. He had been hoping for a good reaction. He hadn't been disappointed. She had often caught his glance and smiled encouragingly, or had given him a little wink.
However, at his mother's entrance, he had suddenly felt like a child being caught in the act of trying to steal a cookie an hour before supper. It was not a pleasant feeling, and by the way Ardith was looking at him, with those innocently raised eyebrows, he could tell that she had detected the cause of his surprise.
"Mother," Jareth shouted to cover his embarrassment, "why must you always do this? It is very unseemly for a queen."
"Oh, do shut up, darling," Nabila brushed past him to take his seat. She gulped down the rest of his wine, and turned to the concerned women seated around the little table to her right. "Sarah, we have news of Statira."
"What," Jareth snapped, jumping into Malin's vacated seat to her left. "Tell us everything." Nabila was suddenly very interested in the speed with which Jareth got down to business. She was dying to chide him about it, but she decided not to press the matter. There would be plenty of time to confront him on this point later. Right now, he had the right idea.
"General Edus, one of the best officers in my army, has infiltrated Statira's network of supporters. She has been at work recruiting people to her cause, mostly relatively old or relatively young, wealthy elves," she added darkly. "I had trusted some of them implicitly before I got word of their treachery. Apparently loyalty to your country and queen means little when a young, vibrant witch is around."
"Who are they, mother," Ardith asked timidly, unable to believe that Nabila could have misjudged the characters of her courtiers.
"Many are relatively obscure, but the most prominent are the Duke Piran and the Viscount Liron. Apparently, Liron hopes to marry her. It would strengthen her claim to the throne, since he is a distant cousin. It has also been rumored that King Platon is backing her, as well."
"You never can trust satyrs where a pretty woman is concerned," Malin offered apologetically.
"Quite," Nabila agreed, dryly. "Edus will be here any moment now to report. I asked him to come," she rushed to explain, seeing her son's reaction to this new breech of his protective field, "because I thought you would all like to hear it straight from him, first hand."
A popping noise briefly cut through the air, and standing before them was a stout, heavily bearded man, who Sarah thought looked to be about fifty. She was still thinking in terms of human years, so she reckoned him at about five thousand or so. Still, he could have been much older, or much younger. It seemed that the older elves got, the harder it was to tell. General Edus was probably the first truly grizzled elf she had ever seen, with a grey, hoary mane of hair, and deep lines covering his exposed skin. There was a long scar cutting across his forehead. It reached into his hairline, which was receding.
The first thing he did was make a low bow from the waist. "It is an honor to serve you, my queen," he said in a low, faintly rasping voice. He rose up, and turned to Sarah. "And it is a great honor to finally meet you, Your Highness." Sarah gave him a polite nod, but remained silent. There was an eagerness in his eyes that she didn't quite like, not that she hadn't had ample time in court to get used to such glances. But coming from a man his age, it was quite disconcerting.
"Sarah, this is General Edus," Nabila introduced. "He is the man who threw the fireball at you during your coronation."
"That was quite a work of magic, Your Highness," he complimented gruffly. "Your fighting instincts are very sharp."
"Thank you, General," Sarah demurred, correctly humble in the presence of a more highly skilled fighter.
"Edus, I believe you know my son, Jareth, King of the Goblins, and my daughter, the Lady Ardith," Nabila gestured to each, in turn, as they, too, nodded to the visitor, Jareth more stiffly and impatiently than his sister. He had noticed the look Edus had given Sarah, and he liked it less than she had. "However, you do not know Lord Malin, the son of Duke Osric of Zafirah." The two men bowed to each other.
"I do know the Duke, your father," Edus assured Malin. "A fine man. One of the best soldiers I've ever fought with."
"Enough of the pleasantries," Nabila exclaimed wearily. "I believe the decrees of court have been satisfied. What do you have for us?"
"Your Majesty, Statira's location is, as yet, still unknown, but there are five possibilities that are being considered. From information I've gleaned from hearsay, she is either in Indira, Kalila, the Land of the Satyrs, the Land of the Sirens, or the Above."
"The Land of the Sirens," Jareth asked with some surprise. "Why would she be there?"
"It would appear that High Princess Lorelei is one of her supporters."
"We should have foreseen that," Jareth muttered thoughtfully. "Lorelei and Statira are so alike in their ways, it only makes sense for Lorelei to ally herself with our dear cousin. Together, they could rule all of the male rulers and various noblemen on mere se appeal."
"I've heard a lot of scandalous things about Lorelei," Sarah granted. "Is she as bad as Statira?"
"No one is as bad as Statira," Jareth said with a slight shudder of revulsion.
"I have to say that the Above is the worst news," Nabila interrupted. "It will be very difficult to search, and not just because of its shear size. It isn't easy for one of our kind to blend in."
"Can't you just disguise yourselves, dress like normal people, or something," Sarah prompted.
"It isn't as simple as that," Ardith explained. "There is something uniquely magical about us. Humans can sense it, though most don't understand what they're sensing, anyway. We probably wouldn't risk the Underground being detected, but we would still stand out. Besides, if the humans can pick us out in a crowd, imagine how obvious we would be to the other elves. In a world almost bereft of magic, the elves would sense it, and recognize it, a mile off."
"Edus, start searching," Nabila ordered. "I don't care what you have to do, or how long it takes. I want this threat eradicated."
"What if it comes to blows, Your Majesty," he asked quietly,
"Take prisoners when you can," she told him firmly. "When you can't…" Her voice trailed off on a note of apathy, and she gave a very expressive shrug.
"Understood," he answered tersely, disappearing into thin air.
"You know, this wouldn't be necessary if the succession were passing to someone whose claim was unshakeable," Jareth drawled.
"Let's not get into that discussion again," Nabila muttered, massaging her temples. "It's very old ground, ground I don't want to cover right now."
"You can run away from this, mother," he snapped, "but it's still true. Statira wouldn't dare argue if Ardith had been crowned, but it's only natural that she dispute Sarah's claim. I imagine it's already gotten out that she's human." Nabila's silence was all the answer he needed to see that his arrow had hit its mark. He started pacing. "Why would you even go to her when you have a perfectly capable daughter? Why do you insist on inflicting these wounds on your children?"
The queen knew exactly what "wounds" he was referring to, and it didn't have anything to do with her children's worth. He was still holding a grudge about Sarah's disappearance. "Jareth, I will not be spoken to like that," Nabila shouted indignantly. "And you will not disrespect Sarah. She is my successor, and your sister's best friend."
"Some friend," Jareth sneered in his mother's face. "I thought friendship was supposed to be built on loyalty. Stealing Ardith's crown doesn't seem loyal to me."
While the two monarchs had their shouting match, their companions had much to think on. Ardith was musing over her brother's changing nature. After all, he had been striving to impress Sarah just minutes before, but now he was insulting her left and right. Malin was standing guiltily next to Ardith. He had never regretted their indiscretion as he did then. Sarah was inwardly seething with anger. She had worked very hard to learn to control her temper, but it was reaching boiling point. Ardith was getting closer and closer to that juncture herself.
"Stop it," she screeched, eventually, getting between the two. "Stop it this instant! Jareth, you have no idea what you're talking about. You can't understand why Mother has put Sarah in my place." Her voice was suddenly imploring. "Please, let the subject alone. There is nothing you or anyone else can do to change the situation. I cannot be queen, and everyone here realizes that but you."
"I will not cease defending you until I have been given a satisfactory reason for Sarah's usurpation," he spat. "I will continue to fight on your behalf. Whether you choose to fight or not is your affair."
"Jareth, you leave me no choice," Ardith whispered. "I shall have to tell you all."
"No," Sarah exclaimed. "Don't do it, Ardith. It isn't his business why you won't be queen. It's better that he not know."
"He must know," Ardith affirmed. "He will never give us peace if I don't tell him."
"He may never give you peace if you do," Sarah warned.
"Sarah, be quiet," Jareth said, looking her in the eye. His handsome, angular face was very sharp, and all of his muscles were tense. He seemed to dare her to interrupt again. Sarah sighed and let her shoulders slump.
"Alright," Sarah answered helplessly, taking a seat at the table. "Alright."
Ardith turned to Malin, as though she were asking his permission. He nodded curtly, and stood up straighter. Ardith turned back to her brother, and cautiously peered up into his face.
"I am ineligible," Ardith began. "It is impossible for me to inherit the throne because I am ineligible."
"What does that mean," Jareth demanded petulantly. "Why are you ineligible?"
"I am no longer pure." Ardith's voice cracked on the last word, but it was audible, nonetheless. Jareth's eyes widened, and they reflexively jumped to Malin.
"You," he began before his voice died. "You defiled my sister!"
"No, Jareth, it wasn't like that," Ardith screamed. Jareth lunged at Malin, taking the elf's throat in his hands. "You'll hurt him!"
"You maggot," Jareth yelled, tightening his grip. Malin began to make gasping noises, and convulsively gripped Jareth's hands, attempting to tear them off. Ardith and Nabila also tried to pry Jareth away from him, but he was too strong for both of them.
Then, unexpectedly, Jareth was thrown backwards, off of Malin. He hit the wall behind him, six feet away. Malin fell to his knees, clutching his bruised throat, and wheezing. Ardith was by his side in a moment, checking to see if he was seriously injured. Nabila and Jareth turned to look at Sarah, who was calmly seated at the table.
"Are you prepared to discuss this civilly, Jareth," she questioned, "or shall I have to throw you through the wall, as well?"
The Goblin King was speechless. He had known that Sarah's powers were impressive, but he had never thought she would actually use them against him like that without her intention being detected before the fact. He was more than surprised; he was astounded. He was also very angry.
"How dare you use your powers against me in my own castle, you little tart, when I am offering you protection from the grave danger you have gotten yourself in," he fumed, striding over to her seat and towering over her.
"I was thinking that it wouldn't be very generous of you to kill your sister's boyfriend," Sarah answered calmly, as though she were merely explaining which fork he was supposed to use with salad.
"You had something to do with this, didn't you," Jareth accused. "You've always encouraged them. You convinced them to do it so you could steal Ardith's throne!"
"Jareth, be reasonable," Ardith shouted, helping Malin up from the floor. "This happened long before Sarah was born."
"That long," he asked, bemused. He sat down wearily in the chair farthest from Sarah. He buried his face in his right hand, and ran his left hand through his wild, tangled hair.
"I told you they were faithful lovers," Nabila reasoned. "To the tune of seven hundred years, in fact."
Sarah scooted into the chair beside Jareth, and whispered, "There's nothing you can do now. She loves him, and they share a bond you can't break. If you don't accept that, you will lose her."
Jareth leaned back in his chair, putting his hands flat down on the table. He stared at Ardith for a moment. She looked him in the eye, head held high. "What will you do," he finally asked. "He is already promised to Rasia of Valonia. You cannot marry."
"I'm going to find a way to break off my engagement," Malin resolved eagerly.
"How," Jareth asked rationally. "There is no honorable way to break off an engagement if there has been no infidelity, and you cannot drag Ardith's name through the mud. I will kill you first." He was quite serious, and everyone knew it.
"Does anyone know why you came here," Sarah asked softly.
"I suppose my parents might," Malin offered after a pause. "They know everything about Ardith and me, but no one else does. I've never even told my best friends about her."
"Then, for all anyone else knows," Sarah said slowly, "you might be here to woo me. You could let it be known that you came here to ask for my hand, so you could marry the princess, but was rebuffed. Would that be enough to cause the girl's parents to break the engagement?"
"Possibly," Malin granted, "if enough attention is given to it."
"Then make sure some scandal surrounds it," Sarah said. "Let a few trusted friends know what your up to, and why – friends who will understand your plight. Have them dump you for a while, or something like that, because of your lack of honor in trying to win the princess for your bride when you already have one. Eventually, the girl and her parents will find you less than desirable. Once the scandal has died down, start wooing Ardith in public. Take things slowly. You've waited all these centuries to marry. I'm sure you can be patient a few more years."
"Oh Sarah, that's a wonderful idea," Ardith shouted, hugging Sarah tightly.
"You would let them draw your name into this mess," Jareth asked in disbelief.
"If it will help them, then, yes, I will," Sarah said evenly. "There is no other way to save Ardith's honor, so it is what I must do, as her friend."
Jareth nodded once, and rose from his seat. He went to his room, and left them to celebrate without him. He couldn't believe what he had said to Sarah earlier. He had this one last chance with her, and he was blowing it, royally (using terminology he had heard while spying on Sarah). He didn't know what had come over him, and he didn't know what he could do to make it up to her. He also thought he was completely mad for even thinking soppy things like this.
A/N: Edus is a Czech form of Edward, which means "prosperous guardian."
A/N: I have never understood writers saying that characters take on a life of their own as much as I do now. Jareth really tried to steal the story during this chapter. He also wanted to use some very naughty language, so I had to censor him a bit, and control his violence. He often gets by with saying things that surprise me, but this time I had to put a stop to his foul language to keep my T rating.
A/N: Some of you knew that razzleberry dressing is from Mr. Magoo's Christmas Carol, and I congratulate you for your cartoon Christmas knowledge.