AN: Yup, seventeen is here. Enjoy, my week is going to be hell so don't
expect updates till the end of the week or next weekend. =) Thanks so
much everyone who has stuck with this and left encouragement/ reviews.
Have a great week!
Standard disclaimers apply because I say so. LOL
****************Sacrifices: Chapter Seventeen***************
They spun together, a dance, a waltz that was more than a simple dance.
Her heart beat with the Goblin King's as they moved, gracefully,
smoothly, through the crowded Ball Room, a single entity, two made one
by the hands that bound them, by the separate bodies pressed
together. He was warm and smelled, not of cologne but of something
more elusive, more elusive but no less fascinating. Sarah closed her
eyes within her mask, dizzy and mad at herself for not being to pin
point why.
She felt the stares of a hundred, a thousand beings. Felt them
watching her from masks that ranged from terrifying to fantastical.
They watched and judged and dissected her as she danced in the Goblin
King's arms. Sarah wanted to scream, wanted to confront this, this
world suddenly...
This place where illusion ruled.
Jareth's hands tightened on her own and surprise made her gaze dart
up, up to find him watching her with pale fire that burned from the
darkness of his mask. The dizziness faded, sharpened all at once, and
Jareth's smirk thinned softly.
"Don't lose yourself Sarah..." His voice was a whisper, a brush across
her mind. Damn Mr. Seducer.
"Breathe..." Damn herself for listening to him. Who would have
thought, here in this place Jareth was her ally, was the one person
she trusted most. Sarah suddenly, desperately, wished that Melani, or
even Drevlyn, had come.
The music, which had only been background noise until now, soared
suddenly, the melody and harmony blending in an ascent that was
violent, wild, haunting, and beautiful enough to bring tears to
Sarah's eyes and make her miss a beat of the dance. She licked her
lips, trying to pull herself together, trying to block out the stares,
the music...
Wishing she could block out a too perceptive Goblin King but not quite
able. Not quite ready to face this place alone.
Sarah fixed her gaze on his shoulder and tried not to let her nerves
show. And she hadn't even faced the Court yet...
Her hair, lose, a waterfall of sable and silk, curled and traced
ghostly patterns over Jareth's gloved hands before trailing up his
arms. Sarah blushed behind her mask as she cursed it.
"Is there a reason it always, always reacts to you?" she asked, voice
tight. Not much could embarrass a thirty five year old woman, her
hair caressing the Goblin King was one of the few things that might
qualify. She did not look at Jareth as he answered, amusement in his
rich tones.
"It is simply reacting to my magic little Sarah." Sarah ground her
teeth and wondered if Hellin would give her a haircut when she
returned to the Labyrinth, if she returned. Her hair's seeming
fascination with Jareth had always bothered her but it was another
thing entirely to have no control of it in front of the Sidhe Court.
"It didn't react to Evirey or Drevlyn or Melani." Silence from the
high and mighty Goblin King. Sarah, after another minute of movement
risked glancing up. She shivered at Jareth's unhooded stare.
"Accept my answer little Sarah. You will not like my next one." Damn
him, his gaze was half hungry, half feral, and it raised the hair on
the back of her neck. She stilled for a moment, considering,
weighing, and deciding that she really didn't want to hear the real
answer.
It wasn't worth it.
Damn him anyway.
She moved on and tried to ignore her hair, her mind lighting upon
another question. Sarah made sure to stare at his shoulder as she
spoke.
"Why is everyone here human looking?" Jareth laughed as he spun her
and brought her back to him a moment later.
"Because Sarah, everyone is in their human forms or are humanoid to
begin with." She felt more heat rising in her cheeks and glared holes
in the shoulder, angry at feeling young and foolish.
"I'm not stupid Jareth." A heartbeat of shared silence and the stares
of a thousand enemies rested upon them both. Sarah corrected herself
without being told. "King Jareth." Another heart beat of silence and
she felt him smile.
"Why human shape at all though? Why, why are you human looking? Why
is Hellin more human looking then the Non Goblin Sidhe? Why bother?
Isn't humanity nothing more than a posession to be fought over, toys
to be used and discarded? Why would all of the races of the
Underground chose to change into humans, or simply be a close
approximation of them?" Jareth sighed.
"You truly wish for a history lesson here, now?" It was Sarah's turn
to smile. She had caught the high and mighty Goblin King by surprise.
"Yes," she replied simply and tried not to sound smug. She didn't
quite succeed.
"All right then." The Goblin King was humoring her. She didn't
really care. As long as he distracted her from the reality of the
Sidhe Court, the Sidhe Ball. "Once, millenniums ago, all of us, those
of the Underground and the humans Above were one race here. We were
all once of a race called Elfin. We lived and breathed and built
civilizations of which we are mere ghosts, shadows of.
"But everything must fall, even cities, cathedrals built of crystal,
of marble, of stone and steel. The Elfin people languished, faded,
and in the end, broke. They split into two. Half stayed below, in
their eternal home and half ventured into a new world, a world still
hot from the fires of birth, Above.
"From there the Elfin race changed, died. Those that went Aboveground
became human. You lost much of your magic and all of your history but
you remained, in spirit, in almost everything else, the race closest
to your ancestry. When we of Underground look at you we see our past.
"Great changes took place Underground. Magic ripped through our world
and we who chose to remain would never, could never, be the same. We
splintered, evolved. We became a dozen new races, a hundred. We grew
new forms, harnessed new powers, we changed to match our world. We do
not regret it.
"But we respect power and the Elfin, they were very, very powerful.
There is argument as to why but every Queen and King of the
Underground can, or do, look almost human. The non Sidhe of each race
are its base forms. The King and Queens, perfection.
"My race, Goblins, have not strayed as far from our ancestry as some,
if only by chance. You see me as I truly am Sarah. You see me as
almost human but the truth is, is that I am almost Elfin, humans are
just that much closer. The higher up on the social ladder, if you will
forgive the cliché, the more human, the more Elfin each individual
will appear.
"In other races, like the Dragon, their forms have strayed too much
from the beaten path but they often have magic to compensate. For
some reason, yet another sorely argued point among our scientists and
philosophers, most Kings and Queen of the races that are no longer
humanoid have the power to change forms, just like Drevlyn, or Melani.
"In some races only the King and Queen have the necessary magic, in
others only the High Sidhe, and in a select few races, like Dragons,
all do. We call that form human because, despite our best efforts,
despite our magic, we are not Elfin. No matter how much we long for
days of old."
"Boring your newest subject?"
The voice that spoke, interrupting their conversation, could draw
blood, or start fires. It was different from Jareth's, no less
intrusive, no less intimate, but darker in a way, colder in a way that
had nothing to do with ice and everything to do with death. Jareth's
voice, even in a rage, was warm with life. There was no promise of
future in the words that slapped them both from the first conversation
they had shared without attempted bloodshed and violence.
Sarah hated it instantly.
And Sarah, while hasty, did not hate many, not even the Goblin King
who had destroyed her life with eternity.
She turned in the Goblin King's arms so that she could face the being
who spoke to them. It did not escape her notice that Jareth did not
loosen his grip on her. Sarah's first sight of the creature ensured
that she did not protest.
It was a man, a tall, tall man, taller than the disproportionally
elongated Unicorn Queen. He was probably almost, if not over, seven
feet tall and dressed in an elaborate tuxedo that was, something finer
than human made silk, and red. Sarah hadn't known that red could come
in so many shades, in so many shades that echoed the color of blood.
He wore no gloves and his hands, his skin at all, was pale, smooth,
unblemished, white perfection. Sarah's eyes, unwilling, traveled up
the length of a slim torso, past a high, rigid, vermilion collar, a
chin too pointed to ever be handsome... Her gaze barely took in the
almost feminine mask that molded too tightly to his face to hide his
high cheekbones, his arching, black brows, or thin, smirking lips
before instinctively centering in on a gaze that was felt more than
known... That begged to be met, tested, tasted, studied, basked in.
But she did not meet his eyes.
Sarah was once a dreamer and a fool. She was no longer entirely
neither but she remembered the harsh lessons she had learned.
Nothing was what it seemed here and, and curiosity was not enough to
make her meet the inherent danger of a Vampire's gaze.
Jareth laughed softly but the sound was cruel, horrible. She was
painfully glad that it wasn't directed at her. The being, the
creature, the, the monster in front of them drew itself up. There was
anger in its lithe body and Sarah was also suddenly very aware that
Jareth's hands formed a near shield around her.
"Even a human is immune to your petty charms. Losing your touch
Draculo?" The taunt was a clear insult and Sarah had little trouble
seeing why half the Court sought retribution from Jareth. He could be
subtle, when he wanted to. Otherwise he could, and often chose to,
ram raw scorn down the throats of those who offended him.
A quick glance upwards found the bloodless, thing lips curled in a
snarl of rage before, before after a second, when Jareth's mirth died
away, a terrible smile that revealed cliched fangs that curved and
gleamed in the ethereal golden light of the room. The Vampire King
bowed shallowly, giving Sarah a glimpse of jet black hair, carefully
slicked back in a tight pony tail at the base of the Vampire King's
long neck.
The creature rose and spoke again. Its voice rolled around Sarah like
brittle knives. She didn't care for the experience. "Well met Goblin
King. Many wondered if you would indeed be brave enough to come, or
foolish enough to risk your kingdom for a child. A very pretty child,
a very worthy toy, but nothing more." She felt Jareth tense and
cursed. The tension between the two rulers was thick enough to cut
with a knife. Standing between them was probably not the safest place
in the world. Not that the thousand or so of other unknown beings
that danced, indifferent, around them, like a river around a stubborn
rock, were much better options.
Thirty five was just too damn old to be fought over like a bone.
"What do you want Draculo?" The Vampire laughed. It was not a
pleasant sound. Sarah pitied the creatures that called it, him King.
"Why, this is a Ball Jareth. What more would I want than a dance?"
That was almost Sarah's undoing. Her head jerked up and, had her eyes
lifted half an inch higher on the blood red mask... She didn't know
exactly what a real Vampire's gaze could do but she had read enough
books and had rather not find out. Not all of them had had happy
endings.
"You wish a dance?" The affected incredulity was an echo of Sarah's
thoughts, though hers had a tint panic. Sarah could feel Draculo's
smile widen as he willed her to look up. Her gaze remained firmly
settled on the bridge of an aristocratic nose.
"Yes Jareth... a dance with your lovely partner, and your proclaimed
Queen." Jareth's body, a warmth at her back, froze at the last word.
The damn Vampire continued, awful voice pleasant, smug even. "You
would hardly deny me such a reasonable request, would you? What harm
is there in a dance?" Sarah wanted to scream. Instead she willed her
eyes tightly shut. It didn't stop what was unfolding... little but
bloodshed would, but, it made it seem less real, less painfully real.
Jareth's palpable anger was less difficult to ignore.
"A dance?" She didn't know how she knew but the Vampire's impossibly
large grin grew even more.
"Nothing more," came the soft, dark reply. "If she is indeed your
Queen."
"Jareth..."
"Hush Sarah..." came the instant reply. She didn't understand half of
what was going on as Jareth whirled her suddenly aside.
"I..." She looked up as he leaned close and whispered quickly in her
ear.
"Listen Sarah, don't fight this. Draculo is strong, and I already
have enough enemies. I don't know what he wants but he's willing to
recognize you as one of my subjects. Accept this the dance... Keep your
eyes from his, agree to nothing, and he can't, won't harm you. Not
while I'm here, not at the Ball." Sarah's panic grew as the warmth of
his hands and body vanished. Jareth had slipped away into the crowd.
Queen? Shit.
Sarah didn't trust herself to look anywhere near the Vampire's face.
Not while she stood there, vulnerable, alone. Damn it! Not alone.
Jareth was still here, even if he had left her... She tried to clam
her beating heart, temporarily left her...
One pale, lifeless hand was held out, beckoning. The strange,
frightening music was terribly loud. Sarah's heart sped up to match
its half frantic tempo.
"Coming Goblin Queen?" came the deadly, icy question. Sarah flushed
but raised her chin slightly. Not enough to meet the strange being's
eyes but enough, enough for defiance.
With a swallow Sarah reached out and took the offered hand. It was
cold but, Draculo's fingers were like steel. The next dance began.
expect updates till the end of the week or next weekend. =) Thanks so
much everyone who has stuck with this and left encouragement/ reviews.
Have a great week!
Standard disclaimers apply because I say so. LOL
****************Sacrifices: Chapter Seventeen***************
They spun together, a dance, a waltz that was more than a simple dance.
Her heart beat with the Goblin King's as they moved, gracefully,
smoothly, through the crowded Ball Room, a single entity, two made one
by the hands that bound them, by the separate bodies pressed
together. He was warm and smelled, not of cologne but of something
more elusive, more elusive but no less fascinating. Sarah closed her
eyes within her mask, dizzy and mad at herself for not being to pin
point why.
She felt the stares of a hundred, a thousand beings. Felt them
watching her from masks that ranged from terrifying to fantastical.
They watched and judged and dissected her as she danced in the Goblin
King's arms. Sarah wanted to scream, wanted to confront this, this
world suddenly...
This place where illusion ruled.
Jareth's hands tightened on her own and surprise made her gaze dart
up, up to find him watching her with pale fire that burned from the
darkness of his mask. The dizziness faded, sharpened all at once, and
Jareth's smirk thinned softly.
"Don't lose yourself Sarah..." His voice was a whisper, a brush across
her mind. Damn Mr. Seducer.
"Breathe..." Damn herself for listening to him. Who would have
thought, here in this place Jareth was her ally, was the one person
she trusted most. Sarah suddenly, desperately, wished that Melani, or
even Drevlyn, had come.
The music, which had only been background noise until now, soared
suddenly, the melody and harmony blending in an ascent that was
violent, wild, haunting, and beautiful enough to bring tears to
Sarah's eyes and make her miss a beat of the dance. She licked her
lips, trying to pull herself together, trying to block out the stares,
the music...
Wishing she could block out a too perceptive Goblin King but not quite
able. Not quite ready to face this place alone.
Sarah fixed her gaze on his shoulder and tried not to let her nerves
show. And she hadn't even faced the Court yet...
Her hair, lose, a waterfall of sable and silk, curled and traced
ghostly patterns over Jareth's gloved hands before trailing up his
arms. Sarah blushed behind her mask as she cursed it.
"Is there a reason it always, always reacts to you?" she asked, voice
tight. Not much could embarrass a thirty five year old woman, her
hair caressing the Goblin King was one of the few things that might
qualify. She did not look at Jareth as he answered, amusement in his
rich tones.
"It is simply reacting to my magic little Sarah." Sarah ground her
teeth and wondered if Hellin would give her a haircut when she
returned to the Labyrinth, if she returned. Her hair's seeming
fascination with Jareth had always bothered her but it was another
thing entirely to have no control of it in front of the Sidhe Court.
"It didn't react to Evirey or Drevlyn or Melani." Silence from the
high and mighty Goblin King. Sarah, after another minute of movement
risked glancing up. She shivered at Jareth's unhooded stare.
"Accept my answer little Sarah. You will not like my next one." Damn
him, his gaze was half hungry, half feral, and it raised the hair on
the back of her neck. She stilled for a moment, considering,
weighing, and deciding that she really didn't want to hear the real
answer.
It wasn't worth it.
Damn him anyway.
She moved on and tried to ignore her hair, her mind lighting upon
another question. Sarah made sure to stare at his shoulder as she
spoke.
"Why is everyone here human looking?" Jareth laughed as he spun her
and brought her back to him a moment later.
"Because Sarah, everyone is in their human forms or are humanoid to
begin with." She felt more heat rising in her cheeks and glared holes
in the shoulder, angry at feeling young and foolish.
"I'm not stupid Jareth." A heartbeat of shared silence and the stares
of a thousand enemies rested upon them both. Sarah corrected herself
without being told. "King Jareth." Another heart beat of silence and
she felt him smile.
"Why human shape at all though? Why, why are you human looking? Why
is Hellin more human looking then the Non Goblin Sidhe? Why bother?
Isn't humanity nothing more than a posession to be fought over, toys
to be used and discarded? Why would all of the races of the
Underground chose to change into humans, or simply be a close
approximation of them?" Jareth sighed.
"You truly wish for a history lesson here, now?" It was Sarah's turn
to smile. She had caught the high and mighty Goblin King by surprise.
"Yes," she replied simply and tried not to sound smug. She didn't
quite succeed.
"All right then." The Goblin King was humoring her. She didn't
really care. As long as he distracted her from the reality of the
Sidhe Court, the Sidhe Ball. "Once, millenniums ago, all of us, those
of the Underground and the humans Above were one race here. We were
all once of a race called Elfin. We lived and breathed and built
civilizations of which we are mere ghosts, shadows of.
"But everything must fall, even cities, cathedrals built of crystal,
of marble, of stone and steel. The Elfin people languished, faded,
and in the end, broke. They split into two. Half stayed below, in
their eternal home and half ventured into a new world, a world still
hot from the fires of birth, Above.
"From there the Elfin race changed, died. Those that went Aboveground
became human. You lost much of your magic and all of your history but
you remained, in spirit, in almost everything else, the race closest
to your ancestry. When we of Underground look at you we see our past.
"Great changes took place Underground. Magic ripped through our world
and we who chose to remain would never, could never, be the same. We
splintered, evolved. We became a dozen new races, a hundred. We grew
new forms, harnessed new powers, we changed to match our world. We do
not regret it.
"But we respect power and the Elfin, they were very, very powerful.
There is argument as to why but every Queen and King of the
Underground can, or do, look almost human. The non Sidhe of each race
are its base forms. The King and Queens, perfection.
"My race, Goblins, have not strayed as far from our ancestry as some,
if only by chance. You see me as I truly am Sarah. You see me as
almost human but the truth is, is that I am almost Elfin, humans are
just that much closer. The higher up on the social ladder, if you will
forgive the cliché, the more human, the more Elfin each individual
will appear.
"In other races, like the Dragon, their forms have strayed too much
from the beaten path but they often have magic to compensate. For
some reason, yet another sorely argued point among our scientists and
philosophers, most Kings and Queen of the races that are no longer
humanoid have the power to change forms, just like Drevlyn, or Melani.
"In some races only the King and Queen have the necessary magic, in
others only the High Sidhe, and in a select few races, like Dragons,
all do. We call that form human because, despite our best efforts,
despite our magic, we are not Elfin. No matter how much we long for
days of old."
"Boring your newest subject?"
The voice that spoke, interrupting their conversation, could draw
blood, or start fires. It was different from Jareth's, no less
intrusive, no less intimate, but darker in a way, colder in a way that
had nothing to do with ice and everything to do with death. Jareth's
voice, even in a rage, was warm with life. There was no promise of
future in the words that slapped them both from the first conversation
they had shared without attempted bloodshed and violence.
Sarah hated it instantly.
And Sarah, while hasty, did not hate many, not even the Goblin King
who had destroyed her life with eternity.
She turned in the Goblin King's arms so that she could face the being
who spoke to them. It did not escape her notice that Jareth did not
loosen his grip on her. Sarah's first sight of the creature ensured
that she did not protest.
It was a man, a tall, tall man, taller than the disproportionally
elongated Unicorn Queen. He was probably almost, if not over, seven
feet tall and dressed in an elaborate tuxedo that was, something finer
than human made silk, and red. Sarah hadn't known that red could come
in so many shades, in so many shades that echoed the color of blood.
He wore no gloves and his hands, his skin at all, was pale, smooth,
unblemished, white perfection. Sarah's eyes, unwilling, traveled up
the length of a slim torso, past a high, rigid, vermilion collar, a
chin too pointed to ever be handsome... Her gaze barely took in the
almost feminine mask that molded too tightly to his face to hide his
high cheekbones, his arching, black brows, or thin, smirking lips
before instinctively centering in on a gaze that was felt more than
known... That begged to be met, tested, tasted, studied, basked in.
But she did not meet his eyes.
Sarah was once a dreamer and a fool. She was no longer entirely
neither but she remembered the harsh lessons she had learned.
Nothing was what it seemed here and, and curiosity was not enough to
make her meet the inherent danger of a Vampire's gaze.
Jareth laughed softly but the sound was cruel, horrible. She was
painfully glad that it wasn't directed at her. The being, the
creature, the, the monster in front of them drew itself up. There was
anger in its lithe body and Sarah was also suddenly very aware that
Jareth's hands formed a near shield around her.
"Even a human is immune to your petty charms. Losing your touch
Draculo?" The taunt was a clear insult and Sarah had little trouble
seeing why half the Court sought retribution from Jareth. He could be
subtle, when he wanted to. Otherwise he could, and often chose to,
ram raw scorn down the throats of those who offended him.
A quick glance upwards found the bloodless, thing lips curled in a
snarl of rage before, before after a second, when Jareth's mirth died
away, a terrible smile that revealed cliched fangs that curved and
gleamed in the ethereal golden light of the room. The Vampire King
bowed shallowly, giving Sarah a glimpse of jet black hair, carefully
slicked back in a tight pony tail at the base of the Vampire King's
long neck.
The creature rose and spoke again. Its voice rolled around Sarah like
brittle knives. She didn't care for the experience. "Well met Goblin
King. Many wondered if you would indeed be brave enough to come, or
foolish enough to risk your kingdom for a child. A very pretty child,
a very worthy toy, but nothing more." She felt Jareth tense and
cursed. The tension between the two rulers was thick enough to cut
with a knife. Standing between them was probably not the safest place
in the world. Not that the thousand or so of other unknown beings
that danced, indifferent, around them, like a river around a stubborn
rock, were much better options.
Thirty five was just too damn old to be fought over like a bone.
"What do you want Draculo?" The Vampire laughed. It was not a
pleasant sound. Sarah pitied the creatures that called it, him King.
"Why, this is a Ball Jareth. What more would I want than a dance?"
That was almost Sarah's undoing. Her head jerked up and, had her eyes
lifted half an inch higher on the blood red mask... She didn't know
exactly what a real Vampire's gaze could do but she had read enough
books and had rather not find out. Not all of them had had happy
endings.
"You wish a dance?" The affected incredulity was an echo of Sarah's
thoughts, though hers had a tint panic. Sarah could feel Draculo's
smile widen as he willed her to look up. Her gaze remained firmly
settled on the bridge of an aristocratic nose.
"Yes Jareth... a dance with your lovely partner, and your proclaimed
Queen." Jareth's body, a warmth at her back, froze at the last word.
The damn Vampire continued, awful voice pleasant, smug even. "You
would hardly deny me such a reasonable request, would you? What harm
is there in a dance?" Sarah wanted to scream. Instead she willed her
eyes tightly shut. It didn't stop what was unfolding... little but
bloodshed would, but, it made it seem less real, less painfully real.
Jareth's palpable anger was less difficult to ignore.
"A dance?" She didn't know how she knew but the Vampire's impossibly
large grin grew even more.
"Nothing more," came the soft, dark reply. "If she is indeed your
Queen."
"Jareth..."
"Hush Sarah..." came the instant reply. She didn't understand half of
what was going on as Jareth whirled her suddenly aside.
"I..." She looked up as he leaned close and whispered quickly in her
ear.
"Listen Sarah, don't fight this. Draculo is strong, and I already
have enough enemies. I don't know what he wants but he's willing to
recognize you as one of my subjects. Accept this the dance... Keep your
eyes from his, agree to nothing, and he can't, won't harm you. Not
while I'm here, not at the Ball." Sarah's panic grew as the warmth of
his hands and body vanished. Jareth had slipped away into the crowd.
Queen? Shit.
Sarah didn't trust herself to look anywhere near the Vampire's face.
Not while she stood there, vulnerable, alone. Damn it! Not alone.
Jareth was still here, even if he had left her... She tried to clam
her beating heart, temporarily left her...
One pale, lifeless hand was held out, beckoning. The strange,
frightening music was terribly loud. Sarah's heart sped up to match
its half frantic tempo.
"Coming Goblin Queen?" came the deadly, icy question. Sarah flushed
but raised her chin slightly. Not enough to meet the strange being's
eyes but enough, enough for defiance.
With a swallow Sarah reached out and took the offered hand. It was
cold but, Draculo's fingers were like steel. The next dance began.