AN: Well this was going to be a big action chapter but, well, umm...
That's going to be next chapter. This chapter is a mini cliff hanger
instead. I know, I'm wonderful aren't I? Neway, a HUGE thanks to
everyone who has been so kind as to review and, well a dirty look to
all you out there who haven't. I receive constructive critcism well,
promise. Already have a few things I want to go back and 'tweak'
eventually in a couple of chapters. =) I guess that's all for now.
Write everyone! Write!
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~Sacrifices: Chapter Ten~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"Call me, when the time comes, please Jareth..." Jareth let the cold
mask of anger thaw slightly with the sudden fear, the worry that
creased his almost brother's blue skinned brow. He bowed, stiffly,
and Drevlyn, Prince of the Dragons, returned the solemn gesture of
impartiality.
"We...we are not finished with the repercussions of your actions
Prince Drevlyn. But I am holder of the title and honor of Dragon's
Trust. Your race is second only to my own people and kingdom. No
quarrel, however terrific, no deed, no matter how horrific, would
delay such long awaited news.
"Besides," and Jareth sudden smile, smirk, was mercantile, "as your
race prospers, so does my tenuous position in the Sidhe Court rise.
Harsh words shall be exchanged over this evening, but I shall call the
moment there is any change." Drevlyn rose, unease abated by the
sureness in the Goblin King's wintry reply.
The Dragon Prince rose, nodded sharply once, and called forth a
portal. He started to step through it and paused long enough to send
a parting, parrying blow.
"You have wonderful taste in women, though your fashion sense could be
improved on. Handle her with more care than your pride tells you to.
You have my blessing!"
A crystal shattered against the wall where the portal had been a
moment earlier. The Goblin King cursed his smart mouthed friend and
paused long enough to study his canary colored ruffled shirt with a
slight frown of annoyance. Damn, he hated when that dratted Prince
was right.
***************************************************************
The days spent slowly away. For all she knew Sarah was deserted in
the Goblin King's Castle, she was always alone. No trace of Hellin,
of the Non Sidhe goblins, of Jareth, their King... her King.
She wandered the halls of the castle, the winding, twisting
corridors. The castle itself was a sort of labyrinth, albeit less
dangerous, or at least the dangers were much clearer. She didn't try
to pick the locks on locked doors. She didn't touch anything that
looked odd, or let her aimless steps lead her down darkened
corridors.
She never ventured into the Goblin City and the Labyrinth, no matter
how beautiful it looked at sunset and sunrise, held no appeal for
her. Not unless she was carrying a rather heavy, okay... very heavy
club. Sarah had found wonders enough within the castle to occupy her
hours... rooms full of running water, waterfalls, and an amazing show
of accompanying rainbows- of a thousand paper lanterns that hung so
low you had to stoop to walk through to the other dimly lit side- of
walls and floors covered with millions of guttering candles that
burned bright in the room's darkness... All immaculate, all
beautiful, all quite unlived in, empty.
She had yet to come across Jareth's quarters again. Something told
her that those were not to be found without the King of the Goblins
wishing it so. Sarah felt him sometimes, watching her... nothing that
intense could be totally invisible and unfelt by her.
He did not try to renew their unfinished conversation. He did not
hover, he did not haunt. Her meals came to her by, what she assumed
was magic. She had hesitated the first time a meal had appeared on a
small table by her bedside, put off especially by a bowl of peaches.
Jareth had a wicked sense of humor, even as an unseen King.
It had been a test, Sarah had little doubt of that now... Of what she
had no idea. She didn't know what game they were in, let alone what
the subtleties of all the politics meant. She had stared at the fruit
for several minutes before picking up one particularly ripe peach and
savoring every last bite to the pit.
There hadn't been any dreams... no ballrooms... no Goblin Kings in all
their finery whirling her off to a place where the slightest tender
look made her tremble in response. She had been mildly surprised and
even more mildly, disappointed. Sarah swallowed as fingers
unconsciously traced the jagged scar on one palm.
If he had been a normal man she would almost think that it was spite,
or pettiness that kept Jareth from appearing. If he was a normal man she
would think that he was waiting, perversely, for her to call him
first. Jareth was anything but a normal man.
He couldn't be that small minded, that... that arrogantly masculine...
that human. Wasn't, couldn't be... because then that flash of
jealously which she had attributed as possessiveness could be a
response of more, well masculine was the word that came to mind,
feelings instead. Because if Jareth was that human, that mannish then
the ballroom, the Echer room was something else entirely too, even
buried twenty years in the past.
Something besides a man with more power then she could possibly dream
of toying with a girl, a child, barely a woman, even less aware of
that fact. It became a man with more power then she could have
possibly dreamed of offering all that he was, all who he would ever
be, to that said child, girl, that defiant and terribly afraid woman.
'Love me, fear me, let me rule you... and I will be your slave...'
The half remembered words taunted her for a moment as Sarah was
trapped in a not so pleasant world of 'what ifs?'. What if there had
been no Toby to rescue? What if Jareth had brought her to the Labyrinth a
few years later? What if she had let her dreams come true? What if she
had accepted the thrilling, dark promise in the Goblin King's tortured
gaze?
Sarah swallowed. She had almost whispered his name a hundred, a
thousand times. Almost whispered it again as she stood, outside a
great oak door in some unknown, unnamed corridor deep in the heart of
the castle she would call home for eternity. Almost gave into
temptation.
Would have fifteen years ago. Would have ten... Would have five,
when thirty hit and she first truly felt like an adult, a dreamer, but
an adult- with responsibility... with a family. It wasn't Jareth's
name that broke the silence of the hallway.
"Devon... oh Devon." Sarah leaned against the cold stone walls and
wrapped her arms around herself, shaking with suppressed tears. God,
she wasn't even wearing her engagement ring. She had taken it off
that night, when she had taken a shower. It was still half a size too
big and Devon hadn't been able to pry it away from her long enough for
the local jeweler to resize it. And then she had gone to put Melanie
to bed and Jareth...
Suddenly bitterly angry and lost Sarah let herself slide down the wall
until she sat, leaning against the wall, head in her hands as hot
tears splashed onto one of the many more simple gowns that had been
provided, magically and unseen, each morning she awoke. Bitter
because she had been taken away without, without something so precious
and furious, mind numbingly furious with herself for not even
realizing her lack.
More tears came with that self loathing thought and Sarah sat there a
long time, wondering who she was and just what she was doing, in this
world that mocked her pain and only her caused more.
*******************************************************************
Devon sat up late again, the TV on, vaguely worried by how he had been
acting but still simply, uneloquently, depressed. A TV movie came on
and he watched, with glassy eyes, but leaned forward suddenly, intent,
alert, as a woman came... no glided on screen.
She was beautiful in a breath catching sort of way. Not like a super
model... more like one of the great actresses of the twenties or
thirties... in a classic kind of way. Her skin was pale and
contrasted with her long hair, a waterfall of sable, and expressive
dark eyes. It was her voice though that moved him, drew him, made the
part of him that ached for no reason feel soothed, whole.
He watched, unable to tear his blue eyes away from the screen. He
ignored the plot, the commercials, anything and everything but the
woman.
Devon heard Melanie crying vaguely in the background. She hadn't slept
for days. He went and retrieved his sobbing unhappy during a quick
commercial. She abruptly stopped wailing when the movie came back on,
just as transfixed as her father. The movie lasted two hours. As the
credits rolled by Devon eagerly, imaptiently, searched for the woman's
name.
There... Sarah Williams.
It meant nothing to him, but it should. Something in him responded to
it, hungered for it. Devon whispered the name softly, hoarsely.
"Sarah..." Speaking it, voicing it made it real, made it something
more tangible then a mere actress in a nondescript TV movie. Melanie
buried her face in his shirt, clinging to him.
"Sarah Williams..."
********************************************************************
She haunted his dreams that night- when Devon finally got Mel to sleep
and crawled into bed himself. She haunted his fantasies, and his
nightmares and when he woke he wept like he hadn't since Melanie's
mother had died so long ago... Cried- torn apart by the unnamed loss
that threatened to drown him in grief.
********************************************************************
Sarah looked up as timid steps sounded down the hall, face tear
streaked, eyes rimmed an ugly red.
"Sarah? Mistress Sarah?" She flinched at Hellin's quavering voice
and rose shakily. "Mistress? Please... I was sent to get you. Oh
where are you Mistress?" Sarah paused half a moment, torn between the
need for companionship and the sudden, more urgent need for solitude.
Solitude won.
Sarah turned to the door beside her, the ornate oaken door that seemed
very similar to her own. Perhaps... perhaps it was another guest room.
It didn't matter, not really. She tried the handle- unlocked. Sarah
slipped, silent as a shadow, inside, closing the heavy door behind her
with a click.
Sarah stared.
Part of the floor was cut away in a rough two foot wide circle,
leaving a large 'island' in the center. The cut away part was filled
with sparkling, though still water, but it was the island that caught
and held Sarah's attention. She had seen many wonders, and many odd
things, in her explorations but she had never seen something,
anything, like this.
The island was like some great bed... a large cushion strewn with pillows
and blankets of satin and velvet and silk and cashmere. All
surrounding, cradling, nestling, a giant golden egg. Sarah watched,
fascinated, as streaks of emerald and jade moved across the surface,
marbling it. She stepped back quickly as the egg rocked slightly.
Stepped back and then stepped, unsure, unwillingly, forward, drawn
like a moth to a flame.
Sarah's slippered feet stopped at the edge of the 'moat', her eyes
never leaving the immense egg which came up past her waist, or would
if she was standing beside it, when she was standing beside it.
Sarah swallowed again, with nervousness and a small amount of fear.
She could see, in the light of the room, a shadow moving inside the
egg. And then there was a crack along the jewel like surface.
Sarah took one, large, thoughtless step forward, propelled, urged
by some unseen force, and was standing beside it when a second crack
appeared.
2AN: Forgot the egg didn't you? Come on, don't lie... you forgot it...
Oh.
Okay.
You guys didn't. ;) *Inane moment brought to you by Kei*
That's going to be next chapter. This chapter is a mini cliff hanger
instead. I know, I'm wonderful aren't I? Neway, a HUGE thanks to
everyone who has been so kind as to review and, well a dirty look to
all you out there who haven't. I receive constructive critcism well,
promise. Already have a few things I want to go back and 'tweak'
eventually in a couple of chapters. =) I guess that's all for now.
Write everyone! Write!
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~Sacrifices: Chapter Ten~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"Call me, when the time comes, please Jareth..." Jareth let the cold
mask of anger thaw slightly with the sudden fear, the worry that
creased his almost brother's blue skinned brow. He bowed, stiffly,
and Drevlyn, Prince of the Dragons, returned the solemn gesture of
impartiality.
"We...we are not finished with the repercussions of your actions
Prince Drevlyn. But I am holder of the title and honor of Dragon's
Trust. Your race is second only to my own people and kingdom. No
quarrel, however terrific, no deed, no matter how horrific, would
delay such long awaited news.
"Besides," and Jareth sudden smile, smirk, was mercantile, "as your
race prospers, so does my tenuous position in the Sidhe Court rise.
Harsh words shall be exchanged over this evening, but I shall call the
moment there is any change." Drevlyn rose, unease abated by the
sureness in the Goblin King's wintry reply.
The Dragon Prince rose, nodded sharply once, and called forth a
portal. He started to step through it and paused long enough to send
a parting, parrying blow.
"You have wonderful taste in women, though your fashion sense could be
improved on. Handle her with more care than your pride tells you to.
You have my blessing!"
A crystal shattered against the wall where the portal had been a
moment earlier. The Goblin King cursed his smart mouthed friend and
paused long enough to study his canary colored ruffled shirt with a
slight frown of annoyance. Damn, he hated when that dratted Prince
was right.
***************************************************************
The days spent slowly away. For all she knew Sarah was deserted in
the Goblin King's Castle, she was always alone. No trace of Hellin,
of the Non Sidhe goblins, of Jareth, their King... her King.
She wandered the halls of the castle, the winding, twisting
corridors. The castle itself was a sort of labyrinth, albeit less
dangerous, or at least the dangers were much clearer. She didn't try
to pick the locks on locked doors. She didn't touch anything that
looked odd, or let her aimless steps lead her down darkened
corridors.
She never ventured into the Goblin City and the Labyrinth, no matter
how beautiful it looked at sunset and sunrise, held no appeal for
her. Not unless she was carrying a rather heavy, okay... very heavy
club. Sarah had found wonders enough within the castle to occupy her
hours... rooms full of running water, waterfalls, and an amazing show
of accompanying rainbows- of a thousand paper lanterns that hung so
low you had to stoop to walk through to the other dimly lit side- of
walls and floors covered with millions of guttering candles that
burned bright in the room's darkness... All immaculate, all
beautiful, all quite unlived in, empty.
She had yet to come across Jareth's quarters again. Something told
her that those were not to be found without the King of the Goblins
wishing it so. Sarah felt him sometimes, watching her... nothing that
intense could be totally invisible and unfelt by her.
He did not try to renew their unfinished conversation. He did not
hover, he did not haunt. Her meals came to her by, what she assumed
was magic. She had hesitated the first time a meal had appeared on a
small table by her bedside, put off especially by a bowl of peaches.
Jareth had a wicked sense of humor, even as an unseen King.
It had been a test, Sarah had little doubt of that now... Of what she
had no idea. She didn't know what game they were in, let alone what
the subtleties of all the politics meant. She had stared at the fruit
for several minutes before picking up one particularly ripe peach and
savoring every last bite to the pit.
There hadn't been any dreams... no ballrooms... no Goblin Kings in all
their finery whirling her off to a place where the slightest tender
look made her tremble in response. She had been mildly surprised and
even more mildly, disappointed. Sarah swallowed as fingers
unconsciously traced the jagged scar on one palm.
If he had been a normal man she would almost think that it was spite,
or pettiness that kept Jareth from appearing. If he was a normal man she
would think that he was waiting, perversely, for her to call him
first. Jareth was anything but a normal man.
He couldn't be that small minded, that... that arrogantly masculine...
that human. Wasn't, couldn't be... because then that flash of
jealously which she had attributed as possessiveness could be a
response of more, well masculine was the word that came to mind,
feelings instead. Because if Jareth was that human, that mannish then
the ballroom, the Echer room was something else entirely too, even
buried twenty years in the past.
Something besides a man with more power then she could possibly dream
of toying with a girl, a child, barely a woman, even less aware of
that fact. It became a man with more power then she could have
possibly dreamed of offering all that he was, all who he would ever
be, to that said child, girl, that defiant and terribly afraid woman.
'Love me, fear me, let me rule you... and I will be your slave...'
The half remembered words taunted her for a moment as Sarah was
trapped in a not so pleasant world of 'what ifs?'. What if there had
been no Toby to rescue? What if Jareth had brought her to the Labyrinth a
few years later? What if she had let her dreams come true? What if she
had accepted the thrilling, dark promise in the Goblin King's tortured
gaze?
Sarah swallowed. She had almost whispered his name a hundred, a
thousand times. Almost whispered it again as she stood, outside a
great oak door in some unknown, unnamed corridor deep in the heart of
the castle she would call home for eternity. Almost gave into
temptation.
Would have fifteen years ago. Would have ten... Would have five,
when thirty hit and she first truly felt like an adult, a dreamer, but
an adult- with responsibility... with a family. It wasn't Jareth's
name that broke the silence of the hallway.
"Devon... oh Devon." Sarah leaned against the cold stone walls and
wrapped her arms around herself, shaking with suppressed tears. God,
she wasn't even wearing her engagement ring. She had taken it off
that night, when she had taken a shower. It was still half a size too
big and Devon hadn't been able to pry it away from her long enough for
the local jeweler to resize it. And then she had gone to put Melanie
to bed and Jareth...
Suddenly bitterly angry and lost Sarah let herself slide down the wall
until she sat, leaning against the wall, head in her hands as hot
tears splashed onto one of the many more simple gowns that had been
provided, magically and unseen, each morning she awoke. Bitter
because she had been taken away without, without something so precious
and furious, mind numbingly furious with herself for not even
realizing her lack.
More tears came with that self loathing thought and Sarah sat there a
long time, wondering who she was and just what she was doing, in this
world that mocked her pain and only her caused more.
*******************************************************************
Devon sat up late again, the TV on, vaguely worried by how he had been
acting but still simply, uneloquently, depressed. A TV movie came on
and he watched, with glassy eyes, but leaned forward suddenly, intent,
alert, as a woman came... no glided on screen.
She was beautiful in a breath catching sort of way. Not like a super
model... more like one of the great actresses of the twenties or
thirties... in a classic kind of way. Her skin was pale and
contrasted with her long hair, a waterfall of sable, and expressive
dark eyes. It was her voice though that moved him, drew him, made the
part of him that ached for no reason feel soothed, whole.
He watched, unable to tear his blue eyes away from the screen. He
ignored the plot, the commercials, anything and everything but the
woman.
Devon heard Melanie crying vaguely in the background. She hadn't slept
for days. He went and retrieved his sobbing unhappy during a quick
commercial. She abruptly stopped wailing when the movie came back on,
just as transfixed as her father. The movie lasted two hours. As the
credits rolled by Devon eagerly, imaptiently, searched for the woman's
name.
There... Sarah Williams.
It meant nothing to him, but it should. Something in him responded to
it, hungered for it. Devon whispered the name softly, hoarsely.
"Sarah..." Speaking it, voicing it made it real, made it something
more tangible then a mere actress in a nondescript TV movie. Melanie
buried her face in his shirt, clinging to him.
"Sarah Williams..."
********************************************************************
She haunted his dreams that night- when Devon finally got Mel to sleep
and crawled into bed himself. She haunted his fantasies, and his
nightmares and when he woke he wept like he hadn't since Melanie's
mother had died so long ago... Cried- torn apart by the unnamed loss
that threatened to drown him in grief.
********************************************************************
Sarah looked up as timid steps sounded down the hall, face tear
streaked, eyes rimmed an ugly red.
"Sarah? Mistress Sarah?" She flinched at Hellin's quavering voice
and rose shakily. "Mistress? Please... I was sent to get you. Oh
where are you Mistress?" Sarah paused half a moment, torn between the
need for companionship and the sudden, more urgent need for solitude.
Solitude won.
Sarah turned to the door beside her, the ornate oaken door that seemed
very similar to her own. Perhaps... perhaps it was another guest room.
It didn't matter, not really. She tried the handle- unlocked. Sarah
slipped, silent as a shadow, inside, closing the heavy door behind her
with a click.
Sarah stared.
Part of the floor was cut away in a rough two foot wide circle,
leaving a large 'island' in the center. The cut away part was filled
with sparkling, though still water, but it was the island that caught
and held Sarah's attention. She had seen many wonders, and many odd
things, in her explorations but she had never seen something,
anything, like this.
The island was like some great bed... a large cushion strewn with pillows
and blankets of satin and velvet and silk and cashmere. All
surrounding, cradling, nestling, a giant golden egg. Sarah watched,
fascinated, as streaks of emerald and jade moved across the surface,
marbling it. She stepped back quickly as the egg rocked slightly.
Stepped back and then stepped, unsure, unwillingly, forward, drawn
like a moth to a flame.
Sarah's slippered feet stopped at the edge of the 'moat', her eyes
never leaving the immense egg which came up past her waist, or would
if she was standing beside it, when she was standing beside it.
Sarah swallowed again, with nervousness and a small amount of fear.
She could see, in the light of the room, a shadow moving inside the
egg. And then there was a crack along the jewel like surface.
Sarah took one, large, thoughtless step forward, propelled, urged
by some unseen force, and was standing beside it when a second crack
appeared.
2AN: Forgot the egg didn't you? Come on, don't lie... you forgot it...
Oh.
Okay.
You guys didn't. ;) *Inane moment brought to you by Kei*