AN: Yes, an early Christmas present... LOL Please review and tons of thanks
to all of you who have! Reviews really keep me going. =)
I'm too tired to be creative... Standard disclaimers apply.
Enjoy and Happy Holidays!
********************Sacrifices: Chapter Five************************
Sarah jumped, startled, as there was an insistent knock on her bedroom
door. She rose, stretched, stiff from night spent out on the balcony,
half-asleep but oddly alert. She padded through the room, only
temporarily pausing before the vanity where the mirror was cracked but
whole.
"Hoggle..." she whispered, certain that he would not, could not come
to answer her call. Certain that the cracked mirror was tangible
evidence of Jareth's anger. He must have come to her room before,
when she had fallen asleep during Hoggle's rant. She flushed guiltily
at not remembering her friend last night, but Jareth... Jareth was so
damn confusing, so daunting. She rarely had any thought but survival
when he was near. The knocking came again.
Sarah hesitated, hand on the ornate handle, before flinging the wooden
giant open swiftly, before she could change her mind. "Where's
Hoggle," she demanded, defiant, to a being who she assumed to be
Jareth. The small goblin like girl before her blanched and took a
step back at the wild picture Sarah presented.
"Mistress..." the girl squeaked in reply, "I haven't the foggiest...
I was sent to see to your comforts..." Sarah leaned against the
doorframe with a sigh and another flush.
"I... I'm sorry. Please, come in... I should have known that Jareth
would never use the door, let alone knock," she muttered, half bitter,
to herself. Sarah stepped back and the goblin girl stepped warily
inside. Sarah studied her...
The girl was small, probably only about three feet... Her features
were small, from blue eyes to a snub nose. Short curly hair framed a
round face and she was stocky, not fact, but definitely stocky. She
wasn't ugly though, like many of the goblins Sarah had seen on her
last visit to the Labyrinth. She certainly wasn't human though. The
goblin girl curtsied promptly, eyes downcast, in front of Sarah as
soon as the door closed.
"What on earth are you doing?" Sarah asked, perplexed. She had come
to this place as a subject, not a conqueror, not a fighter, not this
time. There was no reason at all for this girl to be bowing to her.
For all Sarah knew it should be the other way around. Sarah had never
been comfortable, or familiar, with class distinctions. She had grown
up, and had lived, in suburbia America. There were nicer houses,
nicer cars, but for the most part people were measured by their
actions and contributions, not their money or power.
She was here because Jareth allowed it, not other reason. She did not
know her present position or her anything about her future. She might
be the one greeting guests one-day soon, curtsey and all, and she
would, she would to pay her debt. To pay for Melanie's future.
The girl rose. "I'm Hellin Mistress Sarah. I was sent to see to your
comforts... Clothes, food, a bath..." Despite herself Sarah's eyes
lit up, the brown warming to amber.
"Bath?" she asked, hopefully, quite aware of her disheveled
appearance. Suddenly she felt dirty, in a travel worn sort of way.
The thought of hot water and soap was heaven. Hellin blushed and
ducked her head before bobbing it in answer.
"Yes Mistress, if you'll follow me." Sarah hesitated a moment before
following the goblin girl, clutching her robe close. She was lost in
minutes. The halls wound, turned, branched out in a dozen different
directions, and were quite empty. It was odd, finding out how big
this place was, and lonely. Their footsteps echoed eerily.
Finally they turned into a small alcove where there was a blessedly
simple door. Hellin opened it to reveal a perfectly round, windowless
chamber, which was brightly lit. There was a large wash tub, a
fireplace complete with comfortably roaring fire, a stand with soap
and large white fluffy towels, and a dressing screen. Hellin bowed
again as Sarah stepped happily into the room.
"I shall be back in an hour," the goblin girl announced before
slamming the door. Sarah's joy drained as she heard the distinct
click of a heavy frame locking. She scrambled to the door and tried
it... It was quite assuredly dead bolted. She swallowed her
uneasiness, more due to the fact that she was helpless to do anything
about it, then because of the fact that she trusted her hosts. She
swore softly but was drawn, none the less, to the bath.
Sarah stared at it, untrusting, for several long moments, before
shrugging off her robe and dirty pajamas and sitting down in the
porcelain tub. There wasn't a faucet or drain, simply a white tub
full of near boiling water, but she couldn't care less. It felt
wonderful. One part of her mind tried to whisper worries about a not
so scrupulous and unrepentant King's curiosity but she ignored the
voice. She hadn't forgotten the way he had touched her hair, had held
her hand, hadn't forgotten twenty years past when he had offered
himself to her, but it was simply one more thing that she had no
control over. It didn't mean that she wouldn't, quite belligerently,
confront him when she came face to face with him again, but it would
have to wait. Besides, her water was cooling.
Sarah languished, soaped, rinsed, soaped again. She always had been a
water fiend. Devon had always laughed and told her that she swam like
a seal, or a mermaid. The thought of Devon shattered her reverie and
brought more tears. Unwanted but there, they slipped from hazel eyes
to join the soapy bath water. Despite her sorrow Sarah was genuinely
enjoying herself. The hour flew by quicker than she could have
believed possible. There was, too soon, a tentative knock on the
locked door, a click of a lock opening, and a muffled, "Mistress?"
"One second," Sarah called as she rose and wrapped a towel around her
before stepping out of the tub and behind the changing screen.
"Okay," she called to Hellin, "come in." The goblin girl shuffled
in.
"Mistress Sarah, come and get your clothes..." Sarah, who had just
been about to pull on her grimy pajamas and robe stepped out
cautiously, still in her towel, brow wrinkled.
"Clothes?" she started and stopped, face an utter blank as she saw the
dress in Hellin's arms. It was her ball room dress, or at least a
very close copycat. It was beautiful, in a whimsical way that Sarah
remembered only too well. White and silver, sparkling, pure, perfect,
even half-trailing on the floor because of Hellin's height.
"I'm not wearing that," Sarah snapped, though her voice shook. Hellin
flinched at the fury in her Mistress's voice.
"But Mistress Sarah... King Jareth set it out especially for you."
Sarah trembled, undecided... Not because she wished to do Jareth's
will, but because she was afraid, for Melanie's sake, not to. She
knew how fickle the Goblin King could be, how capricious.
"Did... did he order me to wear this gown." Hellin looked at Sarah in
obvious confusion before replying, slowly.
"No Mistress, he ordered nothing." Sarah's shoulders sagged in relief
and she nodded crisply.
"Then I shall stay in my own clothes, thank you very much." Sarah
whirled and went behind the screen to grab her robe and pajamas. They
were gone. There was a note, propped up on the floor where her
garments had been, with her name on it. Sarah picked it up, mouth a
set frown, and winced as she read the scrawled message.
'Wear the damn dress Sarah...'
"Bastard," she whispered.
****************************************************************
"Are you hungry Mistress Sarah?" Sarah stepped out from behind the
screen, fully clothed in her splendid gown, face a mask of anger.
"No thank you Hellin." Hellin looked at her Mistress, face timid,
before venturing a question.
"Why... why are you so angry Mistress? The gown is very fine. It was
a grand gesture on part of my King Jareth, was it not? I do not
understand..." Sarah swallowed, felt eyes watching her, and shivered.
"I... This brings back so many memories," Sarah finally whispered by
way of response and one hand unconsciously trailed down to absently
stroke the white and silver silk.
"Good or bad?" Hellin asked, voice hushed, as if afraid to break
Sarah's recollection. Music, laughter, dancing, and two strong hands
that anchored her to a man she could never trust but would always be
drawn to...
"Just memories," she responded faintly. "So many memories." Her hand
rose and fingers stroked a large scar on the other palm. Sarah shook
herself back to the present, face pale.
"I think that I would like to go back to my room, now." Hellin bobbed
in a graceful curtsey and turned without acknowledging her Mistress's
sudden change in moods.
*****************************************************************
Sarah got no less lost on the way back. After another clueless
interval of walking they arrived at a semi familiar door. Hellin
opened it and went through. Sarah followed her, still lost in
thought, and bumped into the girl who had frozen just inside the
doorway to bow so low her forehead almost scraped the stone floor.
Jareth was lounging, damn that man always looked so collected!, on the
vanity, customary smirk firmly on his sharp features. A mismatched
gaze studied Sarah openly for several moments too long to be
comfortable, though Jareth was not a man one was often comfortable
around period.
"You may rise Hellin," he said and flicked his wrist at the goblin
girl. The girl bobbed her head and stepped aside, next to the bed,
leaving Jareth's line of view open.
"Come," he commanded imperiously, and waved Sarah irritably closer.
She balked for a full second, feet firmly planted as she bristled but,
with a swallow of pride, obeyed slowly by stepping from the doorway
and fully into the room.
Sarah stared straight ahead as Jareth rose and circled her, like a
hawk, or an owl, still studying her. Finally he stopped his predatory
pacing and stood, hands on hips, face annoyed.
"No, you were right. That gown is hardly appropriate now." He waved
his hand and the gown changed into a much simpler one. It was pale
blue, still cut in Renaissance style, with long, flowing sleeves, a
unflared skirt that brushed the bottom of the floor, gathered by a
loose fabric belt of silver, and, a dismayed Sarah discovered, a
rather low cut neckline.
She was put off by such a tangible show of magic, especially when it
concerned her body, but staring straight ahead in the still cracked
mirror served to remind her about a piece of business she had to pick
with the Goblin King.
Sarah whirled and tried, somewhat in vain, to ignore the appreciative
Jareth. "What did you do with Hoggle?" she demanded fiercely. Near
the bed Hellin wilted.
"Who?" Jareth asked in the irritating, lazy, uninterested way of his.
He drifted closer and her hair, as if by magic, clung to his
outstretched hand.
"Hoggle," Sarah snapped. Jareth ignored her and smiled as he stroked
a single persistent lock of sable brown. Sarah swallowed, growled,
and whirled so that she faced the Goblin King and her lively hair was
left to its own devices.
"What did you do with Hoggle?" Jareth's smirk faded and hi mismatched
gaze found hers. Sarah's chin lifted in unconscious defiance of the
challenge she found there and Jareth was at her side in an instant.
Gloved fingers touched her cheek, then her chin, as Sarah flushed but
refused to move. He leaned forward until his lips were a mere inch
from her ear; her face was warmed by his breath.
"Who?" he whispered, velvety voice rich with amusement. Sarah started
to tremble and, with visible effort, controlled herself. Her lids
fluttered shut, lashes dark against vividly pale cheeks.
"Hoggle," she replied even softer, through chapped lips. And suddenly
the warmth was gone.
Opened her eyes and found Jareth sprawled, once again, on the vanity,
cheerfully twirling a peach. Sarah watched the fruit apprehensively.
Jareth laughed at her and she seethed.
"Hungry?" the King of the Goblins asked brightly. Sarah glowered.
"No thank you." Jareth stopped, studied the peach for one intense
moment, before taking a bite out of it with a shrug.
"Pity," he said, raising his gaze to hers. Sarah refused to be
baited, or misled.
"Where is Hoggle Jareth?" The peach disappeared with an audible snap
and Jareth rose once more, only this time there was deadly menace in
his lanky frame. He stopped in front of her and stared down at her,
every inch the regal Goblin King. There was the coldness and cruelty
that Sarah remembered all too well...
"Jareth?" he asked, voice mocking, dangerous. Sarah realized her
error immediately, flushed, and looked away. Hellin shrank in
terror.
"Do you forget your pledge to me so soon Sarah? Do you break your
vow?" She turned to him, panic on her face.
"No... Jareth, King Jareth..." He studied her again but this time,
this time the penetrating stare went deeper, searched longer. She did
not, dared not, flinch or do anything but meet his furious glare the
best she could, heart pounding. Finally Jareth nodded, though Sarah
did not relax. He touched her chin again and the feel of the supple
leather of his gloves was more intimate than Sarah cared for. Then
again, that word described Jareth in all things, intimate.
"Do not forget Sarah," he said, voice low, still angry, so intense,
"that I am your King. Never forget." He held her gaze for another
long moment before dropping his hand. Sarah nodded quickly.
"I... I won't," she replied and hated herself when her own voice
quaked I response to her inner terror. Jareth stepped away and
summoned a crystal. He rolled it easily on his hand, temporarily
ignoring Sarah, and she was grateful for a respite from his
overwhelming personality. The crystal stopped and Sarah looked up,
expectantly. Jareth never removed his gaze from the crystal.
"I did not harm Hoggle," he spat the name. "I sent him to the
beginning of the Labyrinth; that is all. He, nor any of the others,
can visit you." Sarah felt the tension drain from her shoulders and
relief replace it. Jareth was many things, but not a liar. He may
twist words but he never broke them.
"Thank you," she said hoarsely, but she was once again alone... Or
almost alone. Hellin crept forward and tugged on Sarah's dress.
Sarah stared down and met the goblin girl's solemn, yet terrified blue
eyes.
"You Mistress are very brave, very stupid, but very brave. I think
that... despite whatever you pledged and King Jareth likes to think,
that you are not like us. Jareth doesn't rule you, not like he does
his goblins. You, you are almost like High Sidhe."
"High Sidhe?" Sarah asked, curiosity piqued despite her drained
emotions. Hellin nodded vigorously.
"Yes Mistress Sarah, High Sidhe..."
to all of you who have! Reviews really keep me going. =)
I'm too tired to be creative... Standard disclaimers apply.
Enjoy and Happy Holidays!
********************Sacrifices: Chapter Five************************
Sarah jumped, startled, as there was an insistent knock on her bedroom
door. She rose, stretched, stiff from night spent out on the balcony,
half-asleep but oddly alert. She padded through the room, only
temporarily pausing before the vanity where the mirror was cracked but
whole.
"Hoggle..." she whispered, certain that he would not, could not come
to answer her call. Certain that the cracked mirror was tangible
evidence of Jareth's anger. He must have come to her room before,
when she had fallen asleep during Hoggle's rant. She flushed guiltily
at not remembering her friend last night, but Jareth... Jareth was so
damn confusing, so daunting. She rarely had any thought but survival
when he was near. The knocking came again.
Sarah hesitated, hand on the ornate handle, before flinging the wooden
giant open swiftly, before she could change her mind. "Where's
Hoggle," she demanded, defiant, to a being who she assumed to be
Jareth. The small goblin like girl before her blanched and took a
step back at the wild picture Sarah presented.
"Mistress..." the girl squeaked in reply, "I haven't the foggiest...
I was sent to see to your comforts..." Sarah leaned against the
doorframe with a sigh and another flush.
"I... I'm sorry. Please, come in... I should have known that Jareth
would never use the door, let alone knock," she muttered, half bitter,
to herself. Sarah stepped back and the goblin girl stepped warily
inside. Sarah studied her...
The girl was small, probably only about three feet... Her features
were small, from blue eyes to a snub nose. Short curly hair framed a
round face and she was stocky, not fact, but definitely stocky. She
wasn't ugly though, like many of the goblins Sarah had seen on her
last visit to the Labyrinth. She certainly wasn't human though. The
goblin girl curtsied promptly, eyes downcast, in front of Sarah as
soon as the door closed.
"What on earth are you doing?" Sarah asked, perplexed. She had come
to this place as a subject, not a conqueror, not a fighter, not this
time. There was no reason at all for this girl to be bowing to her.
For all Sarah knew it should be the other way around. Sarah had never
been comfortable, or familiar, with class distinctions. She had grown
up, and had lived, in suburbia America. There were nicer houses,
nicer cars, but for the most part people were measured by their
actions and contributions, not their money or power.
She was here because Jareth allowed it, not other reason. She did not
know her present position or her anything about her future. She might
be the one greeting guests one-day soon, curtsey and all, and she
would, she would to pay her debt. To pay for Melanie's future.
The girl rose. "I'm Hellin Mistress Sarah. I was sent to see to your
comforts... Clothes, food, a bath..." Despite herself Sarah's eyes
lit up, the brown warming to amber.
"Bath?" she asked, hopefully, quite aware of her disheveled
appearance. Suddenly she felt dirty, in a travel worn sort of way.
The thought of hot water and soap was heaven. Hellin blushed and
ducked her head before bobbing it in answer.
"Yes Mistress, if you'll follow me." Sarah hesitated a moment before
following the goblin girl, clutching her robe close. She was lost in
minutes. The halls wound, turned, branched out in a dozen different
directions, and were quite empty. It was odd, finding out how big
this place was, and lonely. Their footsteps echoed eerily.
Finally they turned into a small alcove where there was a blessedly
simple door. Hellin opened it to reveal a perfectly round, windowless
chamber, which was brightly lit. There was a large wash tub, a
fireplace complete with comfortably roaring fire, a stand with soap
and large white fluffy towels, and a dressing screen. Hellin bowed
again as Sarah stepped happily into the room.
"I shall be back in an hour," the goblin girl announced before
slamming the door. Sarah's joy drained as she heard the distinct
click of a heavy frame locking. She scrambled to the door and tried
it... It was quite assuredly dead bolted. She swallowed her
uneasiness, more due to the fact that she was helpless to do anything
about it, then because of the fact that she trusted her hosts. She
swore softly but was drawn, none the less, to the bath.
Sarah stared at it, untrusting, for several long moments, before
shrugging off her robe and dirty pajamas and sitting down in the
porcelain tub. There wasn't a faucet or drain, simply a white tub
full of near boiling water, but she couldn't care less. It felt
wonderful. One part of her mind tried to whisper worries about a not
so scrupulous and unrepentant King's curiosity but she ignored the
voice. She hadn't forgotten the way he had touched her hair, had held
her hand, hadn't forgotten twenty years past when he had offered
himself to her, but it was simply one more thing that she had no
control over. It didn't mean that she wouldn't, quite belligerently,
confront him when she came face to face with him again, but it would
have to wait. Besides, her water was cooling.
Sarah languished, soaped, rinsed, soaped again. She always had been a
water fiend. Devon had always laughed and told her that she swam like
a seal, or a mermaid. The thought of Devon shattered her reverie and
brought more tears. Unwanted but there, they slipped from hazel eyes
to join the soapy bath water. Despite her sorrow Sarah was genuinely
enjoying herself. The hour flew by quicker than she could have
believed possible. There was, too soon, a tentative knock on the
locked door, a click of a lock opening, and a muffled, "Mistress?"
"One second," Sarah called as she rose and wrapped a towel around her
before stepping out of the tub and behind the changing screen.
"Okay," she called to Hellin, "come in." The goblin girl shuffled
in.
"Mistress Sarah, come and get your clothes..." Sarah, who had just
been about to pull on her grimy pajamas and robe stepped out
cautiously, still in her towel, brow wrinkled.
"Clothes?" she started and stopped, face an utter blank as she saw the
dress in Hellin's arms. It was her ball room dress, or at least a
very close copycat. It was beautiful, in a whimsical way that Sarah
remembered only too well. White and silver, sparkling, pure, perfect,
even half-trailing on the floor because of Hellin's height.
"I'm not wearing that," Sarah snapped, though her voice shook. Hellin
flinched at the fury in her Mistress's voice.
"But Mistress Sarah... King Jareth set it out especially for you."
Sarah trembled, undecided... Not because she wished to do Jareth's
will, but because she was afraid, for Melanie's sake, not to. She
knew how fickle the Goblin King could be, how capricious.
"Did... did he order me to wear this gown." Hellin looked at Sarah in
obvious confusion before replying, slowly.
"No Mistress, he ordered nothing." Sarah's shoulders sagged in relief
and she nodded crisply.
"Then I shall stay in my own clothes, thank you very much." Sarah
whirled and went behind the screen to grab her robe and pajamas. They
were gone. There was a note, propped up on the floor where her
garments had been, with her name on it. Sarah picked it up, mouth a
set frown, and winced as she read the scrawled message.
'Wear the damn dress Sarah...'
"Bastard," she whispered.
****************************************************************
"Are you hungry Mistress Sarah?" Sarah stepped out from behind the
screen, fully clothed in her splendid gown, face a mask of anger.
"No thank you Hellin." Hellin looked at her Mistress, face timid,
before venturing a question.
"Why... why are you so angry Mistress? The gown is very fine. It was
a grand gesture on part of my King Jareth, was it not? I do not
understand..." Sarah swallowed, felt eyes watching her, and shivered.
"I... This brings back so many memories," Sarah finally whispered by
way of response and one hand unconsciously trailed down to absently
stroke the white and silver silk.
"Good or bad?" Hellin asked, voice hushed, as if afraid to break
Sarah's recollection. Music, laughter, dancing, and two strong hands
that anchored her to a man she could never trust but would always be
drawn to...
"Just memories," she responded faintly. "So many memories." Her hand
rose and fingers stroked a large scar on the other palm. Sarah shook
herself back to the present, face pale.
"I think that I would like to go back to my room, now." Hellin bobbed
in a graceful curtsey and turned without acknowledging her Mistress's
sudden change in moods.
*****************************************************************
Sarah got no less lost on the way back. After another clueless
interval of walking they arrived at a semi familiar door. Hellin
opened it and went through. Sarah followed her, still lost in
thought, and bumped into the girl who had frozen just inside the
doorway to bow so low her forehead almost scraped the stone floor.
Jareth was lounging, damn that man always looked so collected!, on the
vanity, customary smirk firmly on his sharp features. A mismatched
gaze studied Sarah openly for several moments too long to be
comfortable, though Jareth was not a man one was often comfortable
around period.
"You may rise Hellin," he said and flicked his wrist at the goblin
girl. The girl bobbed her head and stepped aside, next to the bed,
leaving Jareth's line of view open.
"Come," he commanded imperiously, and waved Sarah irritably closer.
She balked for a full second, feet firmly planted as she bristled but,
with a swallow of pride, obeyed slowly by stepping from the doorway
and fully into the room.
Sarah stared straight ahead as Jareth rose and circled her, like a
hawk, or an owl, still studying her. Finally he stopped his predatory
pacing and stood, hands on hips, face annoyed.
"No, you were right. That gown is hardly appropriate now." He waved
his hand and the gown changed into a much simpler one. It was pale
blue, still cut in Renaissance style, with long, flowing sleeves, a
unflared skirt that brushed the bottom of the floor, gathered by a
loose fabric belt of silver, and, a dismayed Sarah discovered, a
rather low cut neckline.
She was put off by such a tangible show of magic, especially when it
concerned her body, but staring straight ahead in the still cracked
mirror served to remind her about a piece of business she had to pick
with the Goblin King.
Sarah whirled and tried, somewhat in vain, to ignore the appreciative
Jareth. "What did you do with Hoggle?" she demanded fiercely. Near
the bed Hellin wilted.
"Who?" Jareth asked in the irritating, lazy, uninterested way of his.
He drifted closer and her hair, as if by magic, clung to his
outstretched hand.
"Hoggle," Sarah snapped. Jareth ignored her and smiled as he stroked
a single persistent lock of sable brown. Sarah swallowed, growled,
and whirled so that she faced the Goblin King and her lively hair was
left to its own devices.
"What did you do with Hoggle?" Jareth's smirk faded and hi mismatched
gaze found hers. Sarah's chin lifted in unconscious defiance of the
challenge she found there and Jareth was at her side in an instant.
Gloved fingers touched her cheek, then her chin, as Sarah flushed but
refused to move. He leaned forward until his lips were a mere inch
from her ear; her face was warmed by his breath.
"Who?" he whispered, velvety voice rich with amusement. Sarah started
to tremble and, with visible effort, controlled herself. Her lids
fluttered shut, lashes dark against vividly pale cheeks.
"Hoggle," she replied even softer, through chapped lips. And suddenly
the warmth was gone.
Opened her eyes and found Jareth sprawled, once again, on the vanity,
cheerfully twirling a peach. Sarah watched the fruit apprehensively.
Jareth laughed at her and she seethed.
"Hungry?" the King of the Goblins asked brightly. Sarah glowered.
"No thank you." Jareth stopped, studied the peach for one intense
moment, before taking a bite out of it with a shrug.
"Pity," he said, raising his gaze to hers. Sarah refused to be
baited, or misled.
"Where is Hoggle Jareth?" The peach disappeared with an audible snap
and Jareth rose once more, only this time there was deadly menace in
his lanky frame. He stopped in front of her and stared down at her,
every inch the regal Goblin King. There was the coldness and cruelty
that Sarah remembered all too well...
"Jareth?" he asked, voice mocking, dangerous. Sarah realized her
error immediately, flushed, and looked away. Hellin shrank in
terror.
"Do you forget your pledge to me so soon Sarah? Do you break your
vow?" She turned to him, panic on her face.
"No... Jareth, King Jareth..." He studied her again but this time,
this time the penetrating stare went deeper, searched longer. She did
not, dared not, flinch or do anything but meet his furious glare the
best she could, heart pounding. Finally Jareth nodded, though Sarah
did not relax. He touched her chin again and the feel of the supple
leather of his gloves was more intimate than Sarah cared for. Then
again, that word described Jareth in all things, intimate.
"Do not forget Sarah," he said, voice low, still angry, so intense,
"that I am your King. Never forget." He held her gaze for another
long moment before dropping his hand. Sarah nodded quickly.
"I... I won't," she replied and hated herself when her own voice
quaked I response to her inner terror. Jareth stepped away and
summoned a crystal. He rolled it easily on his hand, temporarily
ignoring Sarah, and she was grateful for a respite from his
overwhelming personality. The crystal stopped and Sarah looked up,
expectantly. Jareth never removed his gaze from the crystal.
"I did not harm Hoggle," he spat the name. "I sent him to the
beginning of the Labyrinth; that is all. He, nor any of the others,
can visit you." Sarah felt the tension drain from her shoulders and
relief replace it. Jareth was many things, but not a liar. He may
twist words but he never broke them.
"Thank you," she said hoarsely, but she was once again alone... Or
almost alone. Hellin crept forward and tugged on Sarah's dress.
Sarah stared down and met the goblin girl's solemn, yet terrified blue
eyes.
"You Mistress are very brave, very stupid, but very brave. I think
that... despite whatever you pledged and King Jareth likes to think,
that you are not like us. Jareth doesn't rule you, not like he does
his goblins. You, you are almost like High Sidhe."
"High Sidhe?" Sarah asked, curiosity piqued despite her drained
emotions. Hellin nodded vigorously.
"Yes Mistress Sarah, High Sidhe..."