Of Diviners and Goblins
Chapter IV
By Sailor Northstar
Morning dawned bright and early, the violent storm of the previous evening having blown itself out. Packing quickly, Jareth and Galadrea left the enchanted shelter just as it faded into nothingness.
"Ready to go?" Galadrea inquired, a bright smile on her lovely face. Jareth nodded and finished securing the gear.
"Just how far away are we from this Anshii's home, anyway? Not that I'm not enjoying the trip, but I DO have a kingdom to run," he said, climbing into the saddle.
Galadrea decided that it was too nice a day to argue over seating, so she jumped up and settled herself behind him. What the hell, it won't kill me to let him have the reins today. "Actually," she said as they started off, "Anshii's residence is located in the vicinity of Mithril Hall. That means that we'll have to pass through Nesme and into the mountains above the city. It shouldn't take us more than two days travel to get to Nesme, and from there about another 3 to reach Anshii."
"Five days...Well, if the labyrinth's a shambles I'll have some heads when I get back..." Jareth muttered. Galadrea laughed, and even the Goblin King had to smile in amusement. And so, the truce of the previous evening held.
Later, as they set up camp for the night, Galadrea was pleasantly surprised that nothing had happened at all that day.
"Were you expecting something to happen?" Jareth said, frowning slightly as they set up camp. Since the sky was clear and the temperature was perfect, Galadrea was not bothering to cast Leomund's Shelter. The grass beneath their feet was verdant, springy and cool after the last of winter's storms.
"Um, actually, I was, though I was hoping that nothing would. You see, we are VERY close to the Evermoors, that greyish looking area over there," she said, pointing towards a section of the forest that was murkey, and in the fading light was a sinister black.
"The Evermoors?" he probed, wondering just why she was so apprehensive about a piece of boggy woodland. After making her way through the Bog of Eternal Stench, Jareth was certain there was nothing that would cause her such unease.
"Also known as the Trollmoores, for the fact that they are infested with trolls and trollkin, among other evil nasties. The Riders of Nesme, the village's defensive force, frequently ride into the moores to set fire to it, in order to drive the resident monsters back. The Riders are known for their skills in battle," Galadrea answered, her face relaxing again. "While bog-blokes are known for venturing out of the Trollmoores, they usually don't come this far, though it has been known to happen."
"Just what makes these trolls so dangerous? Surely there can't be that many of them. After all, trolls are almost extinct in the underground, and here, where there are so many 'heroes' I would think there would be even fewer of the creatures," he asked. Unless these trolls are of a different species than I'm familiar with.
As the fired roared into life under Jareth's attention, Galadrea dropped to the ground on the other side. "The trolls of Toril are so dangerous because they breed faster than both goblins and rabbits combined," she said, holding up a hand to stop anything that the king was going to say. "They are remarkable regenerative. If an arm is lopped off, the troll with grow another, and a new troll will sprout from the severed peice. The same with the head. The head will grow a new body within three weeks, while the body will grow a new head in half that time. Many predators have eaten pieces of trolls, only to be killed as the troll grew within them, do you understand?"
His face a very sickly shade, the King of the Goblins nodded. "Point taken. Is there any way to destroy them?" he asked, making plans for what they should do if they happen to run into any. Breaking out the trail rations, he tossed her a piece of bread and began to fix the meat.
Expertly, Gala caught the bread. "Actually, as if to make up for their seeming invulnerability, trolls are very susceptable to fires. Any damage from fire, energy, or acid cannot be regenerated. That's why I have been insisting lately that we both study spells relating to fire over other forms of attack."
"You could have told me earlier," Jareth accused mildly. "Hoping I would be eaten by a troll if we ran into any?" he asked, a cruel smile coming to his lips. Galadrea ignored it and tore off a piece of bread and shoved it into her mouth. Deliberately, she waited several long minutes before answering him.
When finished, she stuck her tongue out at him. "There was no need," she finally replied. "If all went well, you would never have faced a troll, but if it didn't, I could still handle the trolls for both of us. I didn't come totally unprepared, you know," she said teasingly, a grin on her face as she slipped a small, slender rod about the length of her forearm from her boot. The gold of it caught the firelight, and the ruby at one end seemed to glow a deep crimson. Twirling the thing in her right hand, Galadrea watched Jareth's eyes follow the bright jewel.
"What is it?" he asked, the cruelty fading from his mouth as he became interested in the slender wand.
"It's a Wand of Fire, my dear goblin king. It can reproduce several different fire spell effects, but it has only a set amount of charges, so it's important not to waste them," Gala said in a light tone. A mischievious glint made its way into her eyes. Pointing the wand at a dead tree, she whispered a word of command. A bright, burning ball of fire streaked out and engulfed the old tree. Jareth ducked, and felt a sense of de'ja vu come over him. Haven't I been through this before?
"Not only does it cast fireballs, but it can cast a wall of pure flame, simulate a burning hands spell, and it allows control over normal fires," she said, hiding a smile as Jareth tried to recover his dignity. Looking away from the flustered and sputtering goblin king, she replaced the wand into her boot. "I picked the little beauty up when on one of my adventures last year. I and a few others managed to kill a small red dragon, and I got my pick of the magical items that were in it's hoard."
Throwing Galadrea a wary look, Jareth removed the meat from the spit. "Well, just be careful where you point that thing, okay?" he commented, expertly slicing the meat and handing Galadrea a piece as she came over to the other side of the fire. One thing she had found out on the journey early on was that Jareth was a magnificent cook.
Later that evening, after studying a few spells, Jareth turned in. They had come to an agreement that Galadrea would take the first and second watches, since the king's inhuman sight was just as effective in pure darkness as in the light. The first few hours passed without any incidents, and Galadrea felt the inevitable boredom set in. It was at times like these that she felt totally at ease, for it allowed her time to think about things, and sort her feelings out. Not that it's done much good, she thought wrily as she turned a page in her spellbook. Shutting it, she glanced over at her sleeping companion.
What a difference the past week had made! After about the fifth day, Jareth had grown tired of having his hair catch on everything and had taken a leather thong and tied the mess at the base of his neck. She had to admit that he looked more dashing than he usually did with his hair pulled back. His lean face had lost a good many of the lines that had marked it when they first met three years ago, yet some still remained, especially at the corners of his mouth and eyes.
Smile lines, grandmother would have called them. He's so cold most of the time, I wonder what happened that took away his ability to enjoy life? Shaking herself out of those thoughts, she checked the sky. The moon was now directly overhead. Getting up, she went over to Jareth and shook his form lightly. Grumbling, he sat up and reached for the waterskin. Taking a long pull from it to wash the nasty taste out of his mouth, he motioned for Galadrea to turn in.
After a quick scout of the immediate vicinity, Jareth was satisfied that nothing was getting ready to attack. Settling himself against the same tree that Gala had been leaning against earlier, he kept one ear and one eye open while staring into the fire. Silently, he wondered exactly what the purpose of this adventure was. Never one to believe in coincidence, the Goblin King had to wonder if some higher power was pulling strings to force him and the young diviner together. The more he thought about it, the more he didn't like the conclusions he came to.
I've never gone after anyone connected to mages after that first time. I swore I wouldn't, and then I went and broke that vow. What possessed me to do such a thing? I wouldn't even have begun to study magic if I hadn't met Galadrea. Now I find myself under her tutelage in the magical arts. I've never been interested in this type of magic before, so why am I so concerned with it now? he wondered silently.
Turning his gaze from the fire, he found himself observing Galadrea's sleeping form. The light from the fading fire played over her features, lending them even more sharpness than they had in normal light. She looked so mature, so much like someone older than a mere twenty-one years as she slept that Jareth found it hard to imagine that this was the little hellcat that had almost ruined his labyrinth just a few short years ago. Strange, but she's a lot like what Sarah would have been, had she grown up in the environment that Gala had, came a tiny voice in the back of his head. Though he tried to dismiss it, the comparison shook him up. Undeniably Gala was as beautiful as Sarah, if not more so. It had been so long ago that Sarah had left him. Just as I thought I was over her, this happens. Someone must really hate my guts. Stoically putting thoughts of Sarah and Galadrea out of his head, he took out his spell book and starting studying.
By noon of the next day the two rode into the village of Nesme. Walking through the town, they attracted a few glances, which then slid past them and on to other things. "Friendly little place, isn't it?" Jareth commented drily, looking around the enclosed settlement.
Chuckling, Galadrea also looked around, searching for a decent inn. "These people live on the edges of the Trollmoores every day, Jareth. It's also a main trading station on the way to the Dalelands further east. Survival means caution, which borders on paranoia," she said, then nodded. "There we go. We can get some rooms there and continue on tomorrow."
While Jareth took the horse to the stable, Galadrea headed inside to make arrangements for their stay. When the goblin king joined her, she had already found a table and ordered dinner for them. "I also took the liberty of ordering baths, too," she said, grinning over her mug.
"I'm surprised they would have amenities like that here. No offense, but this place doesn't look half as comfortable as the Brightstar back near the Tower," he said, taking a sip from his wineglass. Gala raised an eyebrow in perfect imitation of Jareth.
"Hey, remember, the Brightstar is run by an elf, and we tend to do things elegantly. On the frontier like this, there are plenty of amenities, but very few frills. Efficiency, and no waste, see?" Nodding, Jareth paid attention to his food, which surprised him with its quality. Hmph, she does have a point, he thought, grudgingly.
Relaxing after the meal, Galadrea suddenly looked up and over at a corner. Her face fell a bit, and she kicked Jareth lightly under the table. "Heads up, Jareth. I think we're going to have company."
Turning slightly to see where she was looking, Jareth watched as a group of burly humans, ill-dressed with unkempt armor, began drunkenly stumbling over to them. Galadrea and Jareth traded a single glance, and prepared for trouble. The first ruffian approached, and leaned over towards Gala.
"Well, now, what's a pretty little half-breed like you doing with a runt like this, eh?" he said, then let loose with a huge belch. It was all Jareth could do to refrain himself from killing the drunken pig. Shooting Jareth a glance, and a strange wink, Galadrea replied,
"Trying to get away from pigs like you!"
The ruffian's face fell at Gala's insult, and his fellows began to grumble. "You need to be taught a lesson, half-breed, come here!" he roared, making a grab for Gala. Quick as lightening, Galadrea dodged, and planted her fist in the drunkards gut. With a roar of outrage, the man's friends decided to jump in.
Before the first had even gotten close, Jareth had intercepted him and taken the man down. As the others rushed in, Jareth only had time to think, Thank's a lot, Gala. Remind me to pay you back for this later!
As if knowing what he was thinking, the half-elf shot the Goblin King a give-'em-hell smile and then snap-kicked the leader of the group in the groin.
The scene soon degenerated into a free-for-all as patrons lept in on either the ruffians' side or raced to help Galadrea and Jareth. Back to back, mage and king took down any that had the nerve to attack. Tables flew, and when they were separated, one overly enthusiastic patron took the advantage to take a shot at Jareth. In retaliation, rage clear in his eyes, Jareth picked the fellow up and threw him across the bar and into the rack holding the glasses. The entire rack came down in a horrendous mess. On the other side of the tavernroom, Gala was busy fending off the original drunkard that had made a pass at her.
Suddenly, the room was invaded by town guardsmen. The effect was the same as if someone had let a minotaur into the inn. Patrons ran every which way, some leaping out the front window, others, the more established, quietly slipped out the back. And just like that, it was over.
Later that evening, after misunderstandings had been cleared up with the guard, Galadrea relaxed in a hot, refreshing bath. Mmmm. One thing about adventures, you quickly learn to miss being clean. Shifting slightly, she made sure that she wasn't leaning on her shoulder. When she had thrown a punch at the pig's jaw, some enterprising ally of the bully's had whacked her on her shoulder with the leg of a chair. Grimacing, she reached around to massage the sore spot. As she did, she felt a cold hand cover her own. Startled, she almost rose, then remembered that she wasn't wearing anything.
"And the purpose of that little brawl downstairs was...?" an arrogant and cold voice asked. Not ungently, a hand began to massage the sore spot.
Her face scarlet, Galadrea tried to sink lower into the tub but was stopped when the Goblin King increased pressure ever-so-slightly on her muscle. Sighing, she turned her head as much as possible, and couldn't help but wince.
Jareth had also taken some minor damage in the bar brawl. His lower lip was swollen, and there was a small cut above his left eye where someone had actually managed to connect. A nasty bruise was coming up on his jaw. His face was emotionless, but his eyes were throwing sparks of some kind. His posture though wasn't one of anger. Shrugging her uninjured shoulder, she replied, "We've both been kind of uptight since we began this adventure, and I though maybe that one good row would help get out any lingering frustrations we had. A good opportunity presented itself, and I took it. Also," and here she gave Jareth a malicious grin, "I really despise orc-spawn like those drunken pigs and couldn't resist teaching them a few lessons in manners."
Jareth turned his face away, and brought one hand up to cover his mouth, as if in thought. Galadrea noticed that his shoulders were shaking. "Jareth? Are you okay?" she asked worriedly. To her amazement, when he turned back, all trace of anger was gone. He was laughing!
"The-the look on that big one's face when you socked him was classic!" the king said, before choking on his laughter. Amazed at his attitude, yet gratified, Gala began to laugh too.
"Yeah, it was pretty hilarious. I mean, that guy you threw across the bar is going to be feeling the consequences of his actions for at least the next week!" she got out, before howling in laughter. After several minutes of comparing notes on the various damage each had inflicted in the brawl, Jareth stood up and tossed Gala her tunic.
"I'll talk to you in the morning, pretty one. Pleasant dreams," he said, then left, still chuckling. Back in her room, Galadrea smiled.
Gods he's handsome when he really laughs! I've got to get him to do that more often.
Can we go home now?