The Thirteenth Rider
Ch. 23: The Fairy Moon - Beltane Festival
The moon shone brightly over the festival in the small town square. Despite the risk of the Hunt, it seemed the entire population of the village had turned out for the first proper Beltane festival in decades. There was a large dais at the far end of the square, where the village centre butted up against the Commons, a lush green parkland of flowers in the middle of the village proper. In front of the dais was a good-sized bonfire, just waiting to be lit when the May Queen and King were crowned during the festival ceremony. Around the edges of the Commons were booths with people selling quilts and knitted items, candies, fudge, meat pies and all manner of other things to tempt the palate or pocket book. Near the dais was a laid wooden dance floor with a group of locals playing and singing, while others danced and clapped.
With the moon rising lazily in the sky, and the sound of music and happy voices wafting over the village, for once all seemed right with the world. Things felt positively normal. Just as well people didn't notice the small black figures moving through the festival.
Sarah chuckled as she watched her little goblin horde darting in and out amongst the people at the festival, making them drop their food on the ground, bumping into dancers on the dance floor, pelting random people with small pebbles, and generally being a nuisance. She supposed that as Queen she should probably call them off, or scold them, or something, but she felt sorry for them. They had been cooped up and charged with the task of protecting her for so long, it only seemed fair that they should have a bit of fun too, now that the threat of the Hunt was past.
Leaning against a wooden fence post that bordered the Commons area, Sarah clapped her hands and sang along with the lively song the group was playing as she watched the dancers swirling around the dance floor. Several of her students had been pulled into the dance and were laughing and stumbling over their feet as they tried to keep up. After everything that had happened to her since she had arrived in the village, this was truly the first night that she felt relaxed and happy to be here.
When Sarah, Nana and Mr. Kerr arrived at the festival, it was already in full swing. The three of them wandered the booths, stopping every few yards to speak with someone, or sample a food, sip a drink and generally enjoying themselves. As they explored all that was on offer at the festival, Sarah could see that Nana and Mr. Kerr were thawing toward the idea of being there. Everyone in the Commons seemed to feel the same, the atmosphere was light and gay – a true celebration. And after all that had happened, Sarah supposed that made sense. The curse was over and it seemed that everyone sensed it, even if they didn't understand why it had ended.
Tugging at the black velvet ribbon around her throat, Sarah tugged the triskellion pendant up from where it hid between her breasts. Perhaps things would be okay now. Jareth had kept his promise and protected her, so it was time to keep her promise to him. Becoming the Goblin Queen was daunting, but she could no longer deny that she felt something for the Goblin King. Sarah smiled as she traced a finger around the triple swirls of the trisklellion, humming softly to herself as she thought of Jareth's arms around her, and the feel of his hard chest against her own. As much as they frustrated each other, she couldn't deny that in the quiet moments, she felt so wanted and safe with him. Then there was the undeniable power of passion that seemed always to be just under the surface anytime they touched, especially if he had his gloves off at the time. Yes… she decided, there were far worse fates than to be tied to an immortal, powerful Fae King who was undeniably handsome (and sensual – added her inner self).
Especially now that the curse was lifted.
No one noticed him as he slid through the festival crowd, and that was exactly how he wanted it. When he brushed near one of the hapless, ridiculously cheerful townsfolk, they felt a momentary burst of intense fear, what they tended to think of as the Fae dancing on their grave. Of course, that wasn't too far from the truth. When he accomplished his goal, he would gladly see every stupid mortal in this village strung up by their own entrails, so he could dance through the streets, reddened by their own blood.
But that would have to wait.
He had come to the festival, searching for the girl and sure enough, here she was.
'Foolish girl…did you really think that imposter's trick would fool everyone?" he thought with a cruel smile as he trailed her through the crowd. He could feel the imposter's magic on the girl, tainting her, but she was not the Goblin Queen yet. That was much was apparent, as there was still the cloying scent of innocence about her. 'No matter…I'll soon rid her of her innocence, and her life,' he thought, pausing to lightly touch the breast of a young woman looking at fudge. The woman gasped, clutching at her chest as her heart began to race and her heart beat erratically. Biting back a laugh at her distress, he continued to follow the mortal pet of the imposter to the Goblin King throne, that the brainless blonde twit thought to make his rightful Queen. Oh, the infuriating girl who would be the Goblin Queen – his Goblin Queen – short-lived through her reign would be.
He hated her with everything that he was, yet he wanted her - Wanted to destroy her innocence. To take her, corrupt her, darken her soul, then take her life. Her very existence infuriated him, as she only complicated his plans. But no matter, by morning all would be well and he would hold the power, the throne and the Goblin Queen – chained to his bed.
/Sleep sweet tonight my fair born childe/
/for morning storms will break 'cross Avalon's white shore/
/And with them comes, the call to war/
/So sound the trump and call our men/
/To lift their swords and fight again/
/Oh darling child, I fear your fate/
/Fair born son, you're born too late/
/To save your lands you'll have to wait/
/And save them through, your raven mate/….
Sarah shivered as she listened to the mournful words of 'The Fairy Queen's Lament'. She had heard it so many times since she came to the small village, yet this is the first time she had truly listened to the words and they stung her, like a lance to the heart. 'Fair born son,' she mused, listening to the chorus start again. It couldn't just be a coincidence – could it? The song almost seemed to be talking about Jareth, but what was the war that was mentioned? Neither Jareth nor Finnavhar had ever mentioned such a thing, nor had Diantha. But something had clearly happened. Frowning she tried to focus on the next verse of the song as the chorus ended.
But her concentration melted into a grey fog that seemed to fill her mind.
"Fancy a nibble, m'lady?"
Sarah shivered as a voice she thought never to hear again, sounded in a low purr near her ear. Glancing down she felt her stomach tighten, as did her throat, forcing her to swallow thickly around the sudden lump threatening to choke her.
A peach, in a grey gloved hand, was held just in front of her, but the person offering it was certainly not Jareth.
"L-Luc," she stammered, as she tried to force a natural smile. "I….I wasn't expecting to see you at the festival. The university said you had a family emergency and returned home."
Sarah blinked, trying to clear the fog from her brain. She felt as if her responses were sluggish, like trying to move while surrounded in a thick syrup. Slowly she turned her head to look at him. He was really there, and despite his warm smile, she could see the hardness in his eyes. As she looked at him, she felt the triskellion pendant around her neck seem to turn to ice. She wanted to move to touch it and call Jareth, but found that she couldn't control her arms.
"Now now…none of those naughty little thoughts, darling," he purred at her, his eyes shining silver then flashing red as he gave her a sharp smile that made her blood run cold. He reached up and unfastened the black ribbon around her neck, then pulled the pendant from under her shirt with a 'tisking' sound. "Silly girl. The impostor's charms cannot stop me. Not tonight," he chuckled, dropping the pendant to the stone floor below and stepping on it, grinding his heel against it. When he moved his foot, she saw that the pendant had been ground into fine golden glitter that was already starting to blow away as the dancers started up again.
Sarah managed to open her mouth, planning to call Jareth, but found that no sound would come out. Her green eyes widened, pleading as he laughed at her, the sound cold and hard. She tried to turn her head to look for her goblins and signal them, but her neck would not obey her.
"Take the peach, Sarah. You are very hungry," he ordered in a throaty purr.
With a low moan, Sarah watched as her hands obeyed him, taking the peach from him and bringing it to her lips. 'No! No! Stop…don't' she screamed in her head, as her mouth refused to work. Unable to stop herself, she took a bite of the peach, sweet juice dribbling down her chin as an icy cold slid down her spine.
"See, that wasn't so hard, was it?" Luc chuckled darkly. "Take another bite," he ordered.
Her eyes began to shimmer, tears sliding down her cheeks as her body was compelled to obey. While she took another bite, Luc reached up and plucked the charmed barrette from her hair and dropped it to the ground, grinding it into fine powder as well. Then he bent and pulled the charmed pendant from around her ankle, destroying it as well. Knowing she was no longer protected, Sarah moaned again, fighting the mouthful of sticky sweetness that trickled down her throat as she was forced to swallow.
"Don't defy me, Sarah," he hissed in her ear, as his arm slid around her waist. "Finish the peach."
Still sobbing, Sarah choked down every bite of the peach against her will, unable to break Luc's hold over her. "His mark may be tainting you, but he will not save you," Luc murmured in her ear, while the couples on the dance floor laughed and spun. "The stupid fake king hasn't completed the bond," he purred, his hand sliding lower against her stomach, pulling her hard back against his chest. "But no matter. By midnight, you'll be bound to me. My Queen."
Sarah shuddered in revulsion against him, making him laugh low in her ear. "That's it darling, you will tremble for me tonight – whether from fear or lust I care not. Although if truth be told, your fear is a far more powerful aphrodisiac than any other," he growled in her ear. Then he spun her and easily stepped into the dancing crowd, sweeping her along in his arms.
Screaming in her head, Sarah watched helplessly as Luc steered her around the dance floor, her body easily obeying his guidance. "Did the imposter dance with you like this, darling? In that silly Labyrinth of his? I imagine he did," Luc laughed, the sound hollow and cold. "I'll teach you things, he wouldn't dream of, Sarah love."
Luc led her amongst the dancers, smoothly manipulating her body while she screamed inwardly, trying to block out the way he sang softly in her ear, the sound making her more and more odd by the minute. After several songs, the music stopped as the village chairman made his way up onto the dais and tapped on the microphone. Rolling his eyes, Luc slipped his arm around her back again. "Time for us to take our leave, darling. I believe it is high time I make you Queen," he purred darkly. "And while I have no objection to an audience, I think perhaps the stupid villagers would not appreciate your screams of pain quite the way I will."
Luc started to lead her through the press of the crowd. Sarah saw her goblin horde entranced by the ceremony on stage, bickering and muttering amongst themselves as the chairman pulled a name from the hat, declaring the swarthy dark man who came up on stage to be the May King. As the May King was crowned, Luc stopped, his eyes flashing red as he glared at the stage. "What is he doing here," he snarled angrily. Sarah watched helplessly, trying desperately to break the hold Luc had upon her. The dark man on the stage waved his hand slightly as the chairman began to reach into another basket.
"And the May Queen is…" the chairman said. "Sarah Anne Williams of Miller's Mourning!"
"What's he playing at," Luc growled, grabbing Sarah's hand tighter as she felt herself starting to walk toward the stage. "Stay put, stupid girl!" he hissed.
But she couldn't stop herself. Sarah felt her body lurch, pulling away from him, then she started walking toward the dais, feeling oddly like a puppet. The cheering crowd pulled her along toward the stage. As she passed near her goblins, she opened her mouth to scream for them and for Jareth, but the dark man on the stage fixed his steely eyes on her and made a small movement with his hand. She felt her mouth snap shut as if it was cemented closed, her words dying her throat, while her soul screamed for Jareth. When she reached the stage, the chairman smiled and placed a shimmering wreath of blue and silver flowers upon her head – Fae's Trumpet and Moon Poppies. Inside, Sarah fought against the icy pull of the dark man as she felt her body compelled to move next to him, taking his hand as the two of them stood under the arch of flowers at the center of the stage. Her eyes scanned the crowd, seeing Luc's angry face as he clearly fought to overcome the other man's hold. The dark man next to her looked at her. He was familiar somehow, but she couldn't place him, although he was clearly Fae.
'What the fuck is going on?' she wondered as she tried fruitlessly to call Jareth, willing him to hear her silent screams.
"To herald the spring, the ancients married the May King to the May Queen, in a fertility rite that would seal the crops for the following year," announced the chairman, stepping aside as an old man in a faded brown robe of rough sackcloth came up on the dais.
The black man picked up Sarah's hand, holding it in his as the old man wrapped a braided cord of green and silver around their wrists, intoning, "Dyn Gwyrdd , gyda'r llinyn hwn roeddwn rhwymo dau rhain ..."
Sarah didn't recognize the words, but she felt the cord tighten on its own, then start to glow a strange red. The dark man smirked at her, his lips curling up in a way that reminded her of Jareth. It was then that she knew. She had seen his eyes in the painting at the pub. He was the man peering from over Diantha's shoulder in 'The Goblin Queen's Lament'.
The dark man was Lucan – Jareth's father, the former Goblin King.
He must have seen the realization in her eyes, as his smirk darkened, his eyes flashing red briefly. His grip on her hand tightened. "No use fighting me, girl. I'll have you, unlike that whelp son of mine. The ceremony is binding. Not even my worthless father can break it once complete."
Moaning inwardly she scanned the crowd, screaming at them to wake up and see the truth. The marriage rite that the villagers thought was just for show, was real! Sarah tried in vain to fight against Lucan's hold, but couldn't move her body. This was it…she would become Goblin Queen like Diantha did – and probably meet the same fate.
As the cord around her wrist tightened again, she felt an excruciating pain in her chest, like something cracking. The pain was so strong, she was able to momentarily break Lucan's hold over her. Doing the only thing she could, she opened her mouth and shrieked – "JARETH!"
Pounding his fist on the desk in his grandfather's study, Jareth snarled. "It's useless grandfather, we are no closer to figuring out who was trying to harm Sarah in the mists than we were!"
Finnavhar sighed and nodded. "I know my boy. I don't understand it either. We have both investigated the portal and there is no magical blockage, at least none that registers with our magic and together our magic is stronger than any in the Underground."
Jareth shook his head, as he paced the room in agitation. "There has to be something we are missing. Let's look again."
With a nod, Finnavhar shimmered out of sight, followed by his grandson, the two of them reappearing just inside the portal, only to be met with a sickening sight. On the ground, just feet from the castle portal was a tiny goblin, his body lifeless body nearly torn apart, with large, wide gashes covering him. Jareth knelt next to the little body, gently pulling it from the ground and cradling it in his hands, his blue-grey eyes dulled with sadness.
"Poor Jinx," he murmured, lightly running his gloved fingertips along a deep gash across Jinx's chest. "What manner of creature would destroy another like this, grandfather?" he asked, looking up at the High King. "And how did it come to be in the portal mists?"
"I can think of a few such creatures, my boy… but they are all banished to the Badlands," Finnavhar sighed, saying a blessing for the soul of the poor goblin. As the last note of the blessing died away, he looked at Jareth and they both knew.
"Father," Jareth hissed, as if the word were a curse. "There is no spell on the mists, just a beast, set loose upon those who travel this way." Still growling, he looked down at the small goblin and frowned. "Jinx shouldn't have been here, he was part of the horde left behind to watch Sarah."
Leaning over, Finnavhar reached out and took the small body from his grandson, then called one of his own minions. "Geela, take him to the High Court. He shall be buried with those of great honor," he murmured to the petite elven woman that appeared at his heel. The girl curtseyed, and vanished. As the Great King looked toward Jareth once more, Jareth clutched at his chest, dropping to his knees.
"Grand….Father….." he gasped, the pain making him pale as he panted, his eyes shut tight against the sickening lance through his chest. "Something's…wrong." The next instant, the air around them was rent with a piercing shriek – "JARETH!"
The High King grabbed the shoulder of his injured grandson and transported them to where Sarah was. Taking a quick look at the situation, Finnavhar bellowed, "Cynnal!"
He flung a golden crystal into the air above them where it shattered in a burst of green glitter, freezing the villagers and pulling all Underground bound beings outside the mists of time.
Luc cursed as his conquest was stolen away by the dark Fae on the stage, fighting against the other's magic and failing. Whoever this man was, he was strong, his magic wild and dark. Luc's anger boiled further as he realized the reality of the marriage rite being performed, and he was helpless to stop it. When Sarah screamed he thought for a moment he might have a chance to whisk her away through the mists of time, only to snarl as the High King and the imposter shimmered into view.
"Bloody hell…." He muttered his eyes flashing red as they narrowed at the group on the stage. Stooping low, Luc slunk back into the crowd, hoping that he would not be seen. The imposter Goblin King appeared to be in pain, he was pleased to note, he might stand a chance at getting the girl yet, since the others were clearly focused on the dark Fae. Smiling he changed direction, moving toward the stage but trying to stay hidden amongst the press of the confused villagers as a panic started to break out.
"Cynnal!" boomed the High King, making Luc cringe as he pressed close to a burly villager, just as the man froze.
'Fuck," Luc groaned, feeling the rush of air around him as he was pulled out of time with the others. He was stuck now, whether he wanted to stay or not. The High King cast the spell and only he could break it and release his hold on time. Luckily, no one on the stage seemed to realize he had been pulled along with them and he planned to keep it that way. Slowly and stealthily he crept toward the stage, staying low and hidden amongst the frozen villagers. All he had to do is wait for his chance and he could take the girl and claim her for himself.
No one realized that Lucan's control over Sarah was released by the High King's spell, until she gave a furious scream and reached out, slapping the dark Fae as hard as she could with her free hand. Grunting she dragged her nails down his cheek drawing blood. "Let me go!" she howled, a blue aura glowing around her as she pulled against the green and gold cord tight around their wrists.
The dark man's eyes glittered red as he glared at her, jagged scratches bleeding as they ran down his cheek. He jerked hard on his wrist and spun her toward him until her back was flush against his chest and his hand was tight around her throat, squeezing.
"I think not, girl," he snarled in her ear, his dark eyes on Jareth and the High King. "I suggest you two stay right as you are," he said, holding Sarah tightly and backing slowly away as Jareth pulled himself to his feet. "Move, and I'll kill the bitch. I'd far rather mate her first, but if I can't have her power, I'd rather it die within her than fall to you, whelp." Sarah growled as he pulled her backward, his hand tightening in warning around her throat. "That'll be enough out of you, wench. The whelp might not have the stomach to take what he wants, but I assure you, I have no such qualms about hurting you. I like it when my bitches scream for me."
Sarah struggled against him, only to gasp in pain as his fingers lengthened, turning to serrated claws that dug into her throat, slicing easily through the flesh. "Last warning, wench. Stay still," he snapped, glaring at her.
That was all Jareth needed to see.
As one, he and Finnavhar hurled crystals at Lucan and Sarah. Jareth's purple crystal hit Sarah in the chest, instantly transporting her into the middle of the crowd. Before Lucan could even register what happened to his prize, a green crystal hit him in the chest, then fizzled with a popping noise.
"Nice try …father…but you'll find that I am far stronger than you remember," Lucan laughed, the sound cold and hard. "A century in the Badlands will do that for a man."
"You are no son of mine," growled the High King, dodging the crimson burst of flame that Lucan threw at him.
With an enraged yell, Jareth launched himself at his father, swinging his arm. By the time he reached the former Goblin King, Jareth was swathed in the dragon hide armor of the Goblin King's regalia, an obsidian bladed sword slicing through the air toward his father's exposed neck.
"Murderer!" Jareth roared, as Lucan deftly parried the blow with a flaming garnet sword. With a twist Jareth came in for another blow, angling up along his father's rib cage, his arm jarring as the sword met crystalline armor as black as night.
"When will you learn, boy?" Lucan hissed, side-stepping the swing, the blow catching Jareth across the chest and leaving a burning slice along the front of his armor. "You cannot beat me. I know all of your tricks. I trained you!" he yelled, swinging at his son once more.
Jareth stumbled under the onslaught, but managed to keep his feet. Turning he swung again, catching his father across the shoulder of his sword arm, his blade leaving a bleeding gash. Lucan growled and changed hands, shaking his head. "Stupid boy…if I've told you once…I've told you for millennia…Go…For…The…Head!" he bellowed, taking a vicious swing at Jareth's neck, only to find his blade stopped by a clear crystalline sword.
"ENOUGH!" roared Finnavhar, the sound of his voice making the very ground they stood on tremble in recognition of the Great King. "If anyone is to put down this cur…it is me. I brought him into this world and I will see him into the next."
"But Sire," protested Jareth, as Lucan began to laugh. Jareth's protest faded as he watched his father's body begin to twist and writhe transforming into a large red dragon with black tipped scales and firey eyes.
"You can not beat me, whelp," Lucan snarled, hurling a jet of fire and hitting Jareth square in the chest, making him drop to the ground in pain. "I AM the rightful Goblin King!"
Sarah gasped at the sight, her heart aching as she screamed, "Jareth!" Struggling, she raced through the frozen bodies of the villagers trying to get to the stage and help him, only to yelp when she was grabbed around the waist and pulled to the ground.
"Leave them to their fight," Luc hissed, pinning her to the ground. "We have unfinished business to attend to, pet."
"Get…off me!" Sarah grunted, shoving him off her. As she turned to run toward the stage, she gasped in awe - Jareth and Finnavhar seemed to shimmer and grow until they too had transformed into dragons, a shimmering silver dragon and a deep green one with silver tipped scales. With a roar, all three dragons took flight, soaring over the village as they bit and clawed at each other, shooting jets of hissing fire from their maws.
Still in shock from seeing her betrothed transform into a dragon, Sarah momentarily forgot about the Fae behind her, until she felt something hard hit her in the back of the neck, knocking her flat. Try as she might, she couldn't move or speak, as Luc knelt beside her, his red eyes glaring hatefully at her. "I've waited long enough, Sarah. Now that my brother and father are otherwise occupied, I will finally get what belongs to me – the Goblin King's throne and power."
Sarah's eyes went wide while her mouth opened, but no sound came out save a faint hissing breath.
Growling, Luc glanced toward the aerial battle raging overhead, then looked back at Sarah with a dark smirk. It was then that she saw the resemblance he bore to both Lucan and Jareth. "The throne is rightfully mine as the elder brother," he snarled, twisting his hand to form a black crystalline knife. "But my father refused to acknowledge me… refusing me my birthright simply because he couldn't keep it in his pants." Lucan picked up Sarah's hand, and turned it over in his. "He raped my mother, then kept her in his dungeon so she couldn't rid herself of his seed – me. He used her, for months on end, until she was too great with child, then he left her in that pit until I was born," Luc growled, then viciously slashed Sarah's palm with the blade, her eyes overflowing with tears at the searing pain. "All the while, his own queen was carrying my dear brother," he spat. "Do you want to know what he did? He banished my mother and his own son to the Badlands, marking us as unwanted. Untouchable. But I will have what is my right!" Lucan slashed through his own palm, muttering coldly. "Drwy fy ngwaed yr ydych yn rhwym i mi, corff ac enaid, trwy dragwyddoldeb."
With that, he thrust his own palm against Sarah's lips as he sucked deep upon the gash on her palm. As his blood trickled past her lips, the spell binding Sarah's voice was broken, and she shrieked, arching from the ground. Around her right wrist, a green glowing cord appeared, the thread bound around her wrist, but trailing off into the sky to wrap around Lucan's foot. Her eyes flew wide as she felt a lightening pain slicing through her heart, a silvery cord seeming to rise out of her body, until it wrapped around Jareth's foot. Then as one, the two dragons roared in agony, while Sarah continued to scream, writhing on the ground.
Felly byddaf yn cael ei," Luc growled against Sarah's bloody palm. "It is done."
Seeing his advantage, Finnavhar darted in while Lucan roared in pain, his razor sharp talons ripping Lucan's head from his body in one ferocious blow. The body of the red dragon fell like a stone from the sky, only to vanish in a burst of red glitter before it reached the ground. With a triumphant roar, Finnavhar stretched his wings, shaking the bloodied head of the crimson dragon in his claws, before alighting on the stage and transforming to his humanoid form, the head of his son still dangling in his hand.
Above him, Jareth arched, his magic out of control, as the pain raged inside him. He transformed rapidly between his dragon, owl and humanoid bodies, before transitioning to human, his clothing tattered rags of feathers and silk. With a shout, Finnavhar dropped the severed head of his son, and rushed to catch the falling body of his grandson, all the while the younger king cried out in soul-crushing agony. His cry was mirrored by a feminine voice, somewhere amongst the frozen villagers. Catching Jareth, Finnavhar fell to his knees momentarily blinded by a blue flash of light from within the crowd, and an ear-splitting scream from Sarah. Then all went silent, save the anguished sob of his grandson.
"The bond…"he cried out, coughing bright crimson that bubbled against his lips to stain the pearlescent skin. "It's gone!"
* The song in this chapter is made up by myself.
**translation of Luc's spell: By my blood are you bound to me, body and soul...through eternity...so I will it be.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Whew, lots of action in this chapter. Hopefully I'll have the last 3 chapters up by the end of February! We're down to the wire here folks.