Chapter Thirty-Three: The Man Who Had Saved Her
Her eyes flicked open slowly. Something wasn't right. There was no sky overhead, nor was there desert ground beneath her. What had happened? She was in a bed and in a house, but where? Who had brought her here, all that way through the Deadlands to this home?
Sarah sat up, rubbing the back of her head. A lump had formed there sometime during her strange travels to this cabin. The room was dark, save a single candle burning in the corner. She strained to see her surroundings, but her vision was limited to the small area around the
flickering orange flame.
"Hello?" she asked in a voice barely above a whisper.
There was no answer. Sarah waited a few more moments and then swung out of the comfortable bed she had spent... she had no idea how long, but she had slept there for a while. Her feet found smooth wooden floors that had been sporadically covered with fluffy white rugs crafted from some luxurious animal. She placed her bare feet on the rug and wriggled her toes in the thick fur. It was positively amazing.
With as much silence as she could manage, Sarah walked towards the door that was barely visible in the dim light. She had no intentions of allowing her hosts to know that she had awakened. They could be enemies, although she very much doubted that, but it was a possibility. However, why would they have saved her from the Deadlands and allowed her into their home, if they were evil? Why wouldn't they? She would just have to find out for herself.
She stuck her arms out, grasping for the door and feeling over the walls. She smacked the handle causing it to creak in protest. Sarah cringed backwards, ready for someone to enter into the room. She waited, body tensed and prepared to jump back to the bed. Yet, there was no sound from the room outside the door. She gradually allowed herself to sneak back to the door, being more careful with her groping hands this time around.
She found the knob, only slightly knocking it with her finger, and placed one trembling hand upon its copper surface. It rattled beneath her fingers and once again she grew worried that someone would hear her and come running into the room to check on the guest. She waited, urging her hand to stop the jig it had decided to begin, and listened for noises, anything to
indicate that someone did live in there. Yet, still there was no sound from outside.
"You would think that these people are, in fact, mice!" she whispered to herself, just to calm her frayed nerves.
She turned the knob, ever so slowly and with great ease to prevent any squeaks or creaks. She was lucky for nothing made a single noise. Sarah paused again and then gradually swung the wooden door open. She was again relieved when the hinges decided to agree with her and remain silent. The whole ordeal seemed to be far too stressful, especially for someone who had
just been in the very 'lovely' Deadlands.
The room was bright, filled with the light from a crackling fire that had been started in a large brick fireplace. A single dark shape sat before the flickering flames, rubbing its hands together in the warmth. The shape cocked its head and then seemed to slow its actions down.
Sarah ducked back into the room, afraid that she had been spotted. She peered out, watching the shape as it resumed its normal actions. Sarah let out a silent breath and then stepped back out of the room, still remaining near the door.
"Come on over by the fire," the shape called in a brisk voice.
Sarah immediately jumped backwards, quite startled that the thing had known she was there all along. She gulped her fear down and strode out from the protective doorway, praying that the host was not evil and was the kind person she hoped he or she was. Sarah stopped beside the shape and realized that the reason for the darkness surrounding its body was a black cloak that covered it entirely.
"I'm sorry if it appeared that I was snooping, but I was curious as to how I happened to arrive at your home, sir? If you do not mind, that is," she stated with a brief curtsy.
The man turned to her, revealing eyes of a remarkable shade of green. They looked like emeralds burning from the shadows of his face and the darkness of the cloak. Sarah gasped before she could catch herself. They were very nearly as intense as Jareth's icy blue eyes.
He pulled the hood from his head with a quick jerk and then offered a warm smile towards Sarah. She returned it, still quite in shock from his appearance. She had not known that there were other humans who inhabited the Underground. Of course, she had never really asked, though it would also seem foolish for Jareth to be the only one. Yet, that was what she had thought and now her belief was proven wrong.
He was probably a little older than herself, but still relatively young. His hair was a tan color and was tied back with a ribbon the same color as his intense emerald eyes. His ears were high and pointed, showing Sarah that this being was not really a human, though in appearance he looked that way.
"Sit down," he invited.
Sarah did so, a bit reluctantly. She was still not sure what to think about this new man. She had no clue as to his history and didn't even know his name. Don't most people offer their name when meeting someone new? It was the polite thing to do. Yet, he still hadn't told her. However, she had not told him hers either.
"Thanks. I'm terribly sorry for being so rude. My name is Sarah, and I want to thank you for rescuing me from the Deadlands. I would have surely died had you not found it in your heart to bring me here. Thank you again," she stated.
The man nodded and turned his head to gaze into the hypnotic way the fire danced in the fireplace. The orange light reflected and swept across his eyes and entire face, making him seem almost magical. There was a good chance that he was. Sarah waited for him to return her statement with his own name, but he seemed to not know of the proper way to greet people.
"May I ask who you are?" she questioned gently.
The man turned to her, seemingly startled by her question. He smiled as if recognizing her for the first time and then cleared his throat.
"I'm sorry. I was thinking about what you said and... I'm Thesper, and I am afraid that I was not the one to rescue you from the Deadlands. I was only here to let you and your savior in. I don't want to be the one to accept the praise if I was not the one to do the deed," he replied.
Sarah was shocked. If he was not the one to save her, then who had? She had been hopelessly lost and worn out, so she certainly had not come here alone. Besides, Thesper had mentioned someone who had helped her and brought her here. She wondered if Thesper had seen the person, or if he had a clue about who had done it.
"Did you see who brought me here?" she questioned.
Thesper observed her for a brief moment. He was scrutinizing her, convincing himself that she wasn't just pulling his leg with this whole line of questions. Once sure he motioned towards the bedroom that she had been in only moments earlier. Sarah turned her gaze over to the open wooden door.
"He's in there, if you care to see him, that is. Certainly is in poor condition. I can't believe he walked through those cursed lands and carrying you the whole way through. That must take some stamina. If anyone deserves praise, it is him," he remarked, turning his gaze back towards the fire.
"Thanks," Sarah said shortly and rose to her feet.
She did not know what to expect in the room. Yet, she was too anxious to go slowly. She rushed through the door and, noticing the other bed with the shape beneath the covers, stopped with an abrupt halt. She was not sure if she wanted to know who had saved her. Maybe it was better left in the dark. Perhaps it would be something that she couldn't live with.
"That is silly talk, Sarah. It is only a person, or a creature and whomever it is, is very kind. You need to speak to him, or her, and thank this person," she informed herself.
Sarah took in a deep breath and walked over to the bed. She grabbed the candle from the nightstand it sat upon, and lit her way. The orange light ran over the beds and washed the man's thin face in its glow. Sarah gasped and jumped back, nearly dropping the candle to the ground at her feet. Was it really the person who she had thought she had seen? It couldn't be. She had to be mistaken.
Sarah stepped back up, allowing the light to rest on his fine, elegant features. His golden hair reflected the orange glow, appearing as if it too was on fire. His icy blue eyes were shut and he appeared to be in a deep sleep. He did not move, nor did he appear to breathe. She had to place her hand near his face to assure herself that he was, in fact, alive. That still did not answer her question: Why was he there and why had he helped her?
"What are you doing here, Jareth?" she asked the Goblin King.
He did not respond to his name nor did he stir. Jareth remained in the same spot, his eyes closed, seemingly dead. Once again Sarah had to be sure that the king was breathing and once again she felt the warmth of his breath over her hand. She shivered in response to it, feeling emotions that were not meant to be nor were they needed.
She drew her hand away as if she had been burned and held it close to her body, away from him. The flame jumped and danced as she adjusted the candle and the brass plate it sat upon. She no longer felt comfortable in the room. In fact, she was fairly sure that she had been more at home with the stranger in the next room. She could not remain beside Jareth for a moment
longer.
Sarah rushed from the room, forgetting that Jareth was in fact asleep, and slammed the door. Sarah winced in response to the harsh sound and the accusing glare Thesper gave her. They both waited to see if Jareth would awaken from the noise, but it didn't appear so. He was out, and would probably stay that way for some time by the looks of him.
"I am surprised that you did not recognize the Goblin King," Thesper replied.
Sarah was once again shocked. However, she should have known that Thesper would know that the man who had saved her was the Goblin King. He had lived here and most of the inhabitants of the Underground knew who Jareth was and how he looked. He was not a man most people could easily forget.
"I recognize him," she answered.
Sarah sat down in one of the wooden chairs that faced the crackling fire. She did not feel like dropping all the way down to the floor. Thesper rose from his position before the fire and sat next to her, in another wooden chair. He leaned back and then turned to Sarah, his guest.
"What has brought you two here?" he asked.
Sarah knew why she was there, but did not understand the reason for Jareth coming as well. He had tried to kill her and had not even attempted to save her from that fall. There was a chance that he knew Katriana would do so, but then there was a greater chance that he thought Sarah would simply die. If that was so, why did he save her in the Deadlands? What reason had he in
rescuing her and bringing her to a home? None, and that was Sarah's point. She wasn't sure what the point was made for, but it was a point nonetheless.
"I'm on a quest. Jareth, actually sent me out to find the thirteen crystals that are losing their magic. I am not sure why he's here," she gestured towards the bedroom as she spoke.
Thesper turned his emerald eyes towards the door for a brief moment, as if he were looking for Jareth through the wall. He then turned back to her, waiting for her to finish. Yet, she was done and wasn't really sure what to say next. Thesper simply waited in silence that was unnerving to Sarah.
"So, are you an elf... or something?" she asked, feeling pathetic and rude the moment the words jumped from her nervous lips.
Thesper smiled radiantly, revealing pearly white teeth in the process. He chuckled a bit at her question and then shook his head. He leaned back in the chair and gazed over towards the fire that was still going fairly strong.
"I am half elf and half human. It is a fairly strange mixture and I am not sure exactly how it came about, for I never knew my father nor mother. I have lived here, outside of the Deadlands for nearly my whole life. The elves look at me like a leader, which I am not, but am forced to accept the role grudgingly. Your remark about the crystal intrigued me though. I'm sure you know that my people have one of those magical orbs," Thesper answered.
Sarah's attention was roused by the mention of another crystal. She thought only briefly about the one she had just found and if she still had her pack, but those worries would wait. She had to know more and had to find out if the crystal Thesper had was still alive, or if it had died already.
"Do you have it?" Sarah asked, a bit too excited for her own good.
Once again Thesper chuckled at her expense. It was becoming more and more obvious that the elf was not young as she had originally thought. He was probably much like Jareth, only young on the outside. His attitude revealed his true age, as did Jareth's (sometimes).
"Yes, Sarah, I do have it and it is still alive. However, I am afraid that I cannot allow you to continue on quite yet. You're far too weak still and should have at least another night's rest in that bed," Thesper demanded.
"Another night! How long have I been here?" she inquired.
"Have you not noticed that the sun has set?" he asked.
Sarah turned her eyes towards the window, realizing for the first time that it was entirely dark outside. She had lost another day, leaving her eight more in which to find four crystals and return to the castle. She was not going to have much time and would have to pick up her pace if she expected to make it back in time.
"Thank you for letting us stay here," Sarah said.
Thesper simply shrugged it off. His hand wandered down behind the chair and sifted around for a few moments. He was searching for something. He glanced back briefly and snagged the burlap pack. Sarah's face broke into a wonderful smile at the sight and she grabbed it from his
outstretched hands with joy.
"Rest, Sarah, for tomorrow will be another hard day and you will have to leave," he responded and then turned from her.
Sarah smiled and, taking the candle with her, walked back to the bedroom. She felt a bit insecure, what with sharing a room with the Goblin King, but she did need to sleep and there was no other choice. He was very nearly unconscious anyway, she had nothing to worry about. Besides, Thesper was there and she was sure that if Jareth should try anything, Thesper would
save her.
She shut the door behind herself, gently this time. Jareth was still in the same position and still he laid perfectly motionless. She wondered what the reason was for such a deep sleep. He had carried her through the Deadlands, and for an ailing man such as himself, that was not an easy task. He deserved his sleep.
"What am I saying?" she asked herself.
This was her enemy laying beside her and he deserved nothing. He had turned her friends into stone and made a special trip to simply show her that. He had tried to kill her! Of course, it could have all been a bluff. He had looked so dead serious at the time and Sarah had believed that he would have gone through with it if she had given him the opportunity.
"I believe our king is both evil and kind," the voice of Leader drifted to her as she sat upon her bed.
What was that memory? It was nearly with her, just a bit fuzzy as if it were out of focus. She could recall speaking to Leader about a question concerning Jareth. She had asked because of things that had happened in the castle. It was about how Jareth had acted. He had acted strange in some way, but she could not place it.
Then she remembered her dreams when she had passed out in the Deadlands. She had seen Jareth become the moon, the dream moon. Was he really the one who visited her in her dreams? Was he the one whom she was searching for. Did Leader know that all along when he had told her that Jareth was good and evil?
"Why must these thoughts pester me so? Why can I not just remember my past like any normal person?" Sarah demanded in hushed tones.
Of course, she received no answer from anyone. She could not believe that Jareth was her dream lover because he had tried to kill her. However, if he was good and bad then that would mean that he could be the one she searched for. It was all far too confusing and she was too tired to deal with any of it.
Sarah set her pack on the ground, stealing a glance over to the figure in the next bed as she did so. He had not moved yet. Sarah wondered if Jareth was worse off than she had originally thought. He had seemed so strong on the mountain. He had picked her up with only his hands grasping her shoulders. He had not seemed like the frail man who laid in the other bed.
Sarah pulled back the covers and cuddled down to get into the warmth they offered. She turned on her side so that she might watch Jareth as she drowsed off. A piece of her longed for him to awaken before she slept so that she could speak to him and ask him if he was the one who she dreamt about. Another part hated that idea and warned her not to get too close, for Jareth couldn't be trusted, no matter what.
She could not decide which part to believe. After all, they were both her and she could not choose between herself and herself. She would just wait and see if Jareth would wake and come to her. If he did not, then there was nothing to think about. She would watch and when sleep came, she would sleep.
Jareth did not stir until long after she had drowsed off into slumber. He still remained in bed, but not in his comatose state he had been in previously. Sarah, on the other hand, tossed and turned, as she dreamed about the voices she had heard and the man who had saved her.