Chapter 9

Cryn had awakened in lavish surroundings. Even the bed she had found herself in was fit for Louis XIV. But for all the splendid decor, she hardly noticed it in her pondering and assessment of her situation. And though the door was locked, she was extremely relieved to find a washroom and a pitcher of clean, clear water. She had drank her fill (also noticing that the pitcher never went empty), and tended to her sun burnt skin with a damp cloth. She didn't want to use the ancient looking bathing structures in the washroom, nor the toilet system, but need overcame both reservations, and she was ultimately thankful for both.

Venturing over to the ornate closet in the corner of the room, she discovered only dresses and odd-looking undergarments. She did manage to find a pair of droopy, black silk pants and a white silk and gauze like undergarment that looked like a boat necked nightgown with slight bell sleeves. She found a knife in a dresser drawer and cut the top half or so, off the gown to make a tunic length long-sleeved top. She undressed her ragged and dirty 'normal' clothes and heaped them on a chair.

The clothing she donned had a luxurious feel, but she felt kind of exposed through the flimsy material. The pants were fitting around the waist and they dropped to below her ankles in wide legs with drawstrings at the bottoms. She assumed the pants were supposed to be stuffed with something and the drawstrings closed around the mid-calf or so. But she never was one to fit in with fashion, especially weird, alien fashion.

Her tunic was sufficiently opaque, but very thin, yet she didn't want to give off the wrong impression, especially to a guy who she didn't even know! Though, gauging from his wardrobe, she didn't think anything she found would shock him. Just in case, she found a light, gauzy emerald green robe with a tie waist. There was also a pair of strappy flat sandals that fit her. She hoped no one would mind her borrowing a few items.

She still couldn't believe how spry she felt after waking up, but she resented the vulnerability that saturated her second encounter with the 'tourist.' She vaguely remembered reaching the castle, and her semi-delirious conversation with...Jareth. And even sketchier were her travels to this room. She had been relieved to find herself still *clothed* when she awoke, only her shoes had been removed.

'Well,' she chuckled. 'That's only relieving if he doesn't have a foot fetish.'

But why would he do such a thing anyway? She didn't even KNOW this guy. Well... she did have her pre-dispositions about him... sure. But she also realized that he was her host and had graciously accepted her request for water and a 'safe' place to rest. And as far as she could tell, he had kept up his end of the bargain. No matter how much she didn't like him.

She also tried not to be so egocentric and assume that he was even interested in... in a male-female manner. It was more like... well, it was more like what Grandfather had said about him. He was curious about her, that was obvious. Why? She couldn't begin to guess. Why would any magical person be interested in a human with sleeping problems? It was more like he put her in a nice room to try and observe her behavior and any other *characteristics.* She rolled her eyes.

'He could be taking advantage of my situation. I mean, what else could I possibly need after traveling through that monstrous rat testing track?' She unconsciously looked up and out the window at the sprawling masses of walls that spread out in distorted concentric circles from her vantage. But then went back to her compulsive pacing.

'But he did do you a favor. Even if it wasn't a selfless favor, it still is a due balance.' She stopped in her tracks.

"What will he ask for?"

She snorted and decided to change the subject.

'Yeah... change the subject! To what... the physics exam you've gotta take in about a week? You sure got a funny sense of humor!'

"I hate... HATE my mind!" Cryn yelled out her frustrations with her alter ego.

She forced herself to once again look around her... room and tried to relax.

'Such decadence...' she mentally clucked. 'Why would anyone need this kind of gaudy reassurance?'

She went to the opening in the wall and fingered the gold window frame while gazing out. The window was overly priceless, but it also was un-paned. Cryn mused at the situation. 'Money can't buy a dry room when it rains.'

But the various smells that poured into her enclosure were complex at best. She could pick out the lovely smell of the breeze; rich with alien air and something else she couldn't quite put her finger on. The smell of her room, slightly musty, but not unpleasant and again had the same mysterious quality as the outside breeze. But what ruined it was the slightly sour odor lifting up from the mass of structures below.

The drop outside her window was mind-boggling. Curious though, was how she was still able to clearly see the innards of the wall that surrounded the castle. 'It must be an illusion,' she concluded. But her thoughts were once again interrupted by the sun baked, foul scent that the... town... was emanating. Though the visual stimulus was very interesting.

The scene displayed below her was more than extraordinary... it was also depressing. In books she had read in a history class about medieval construction, it seemed appropriate that there was a sort of city sprawled out between the castle and the surrounding wall. Though, it was morphed in a dirty way. The buildings seemed truncated, and sickly. With odd protrusions and impossible exaggerations.

Even more extraordinary were the creatures that inhabited such structures. They were small, dirty creatures, that mulled around in a seemingly chaotic manner. They certainly seemed to be the cause of the rotten smell that wafted up to her nostrils. The creatures seemed to have a 'stupid' intelligence. Just enough to dictate wants and needs.... but no higher functions. Though she did feel a small pang of pity for them. It seemed so... sad, that their existence had been reduced to such scubblings.

She didn't know why she assumed their situation had been 'reduced,' only that once again, her mind seemed to take on assumptions all on it's own. She simply now accepted it.

Turning from the window, intent on pacing again, her heart stopped as she turned and faced a person, rather than air.

Her gasp was caught in her throat, and it took a second for her heart to start working again. But she recovered, almost unnoticeably. Almost. But it put her in a foul mood.

"My Dear, I have no intention of harming you." Jareth let the tones of his voice roll off his tongue in a comforting silk.

He was wearing a different ensemble than outside the wall of the city. From this she assumed at least a day had passed.

She eyed the riding crop he so effortlessly played with while he emphasized his point of 'no harm.' And his air of arrogance wiped clean her earlier thoughts about a gracious host.

He again caught her actions and shrugged. Gliding his way over to a nearby throne like chair, he seemed constantly amused at her demeanor.

"And so you settle for mental anguish and lack of privacy." Cryn leapt out onto the limb. Though, there was a nagging voice in the back of her head, urging... no SCREAMING for her to be cautious.

Jareth seemed pleased at the remark, however, and continued with an amiable tone, "I only came in to see how you were feeling. If you needed anything else...And...." His eyebrow curved up with the question.

"And to talk of my payment?" Cryn crossed her arms and shifted her weight onto one hip.

"My my, how astute. I can tell those lessons of yours are working marvelously. In addition to your accomplished etiquette."

Cryn tried not to glare. It was a jab, but growing up under a sexist and demeaning father had left its defensive scars. He didn't even know her! Unfortunately her stomach decided to answer for her with a resonant growl.

"Well, let us not dwell in this dire room any longer. Would you be so kind as to accompany me to the dining hall?" Jareth seemed quite used to asking a command. But his polite offer showed more class than she had so far, and the moment she realized that, was the moment she again came back to adult reality. Except that her petty pride was going to get her into trouble.

"I suppose, as long as I don't have to sell my soul to do so."

Jareth let a wave of seriousness cross his face and replied "No no noo, of course not... " But added with a wicked grin, "... for just dinner." He offered his arm in a polite manner and seemed content to stay that way until she approached the offered invitation.

Cryn swallowed her pride, and her apprehension, and crossed the room with a pseudo-confidence. She wasn't sure she wanted to be so close again to her 'host' so she gingerly placed her arm under and around his, but kept the rest of her body away from touching him.

She was silently amazed at how he seemed to bring out her most childish qualities. 'Little brat...' Cryn mused about her old nickname. 'I've got to try and be mature here. I think I can do it... as long a Mr. High and Mighty won't push any more buttons.'

She was caught off guard when, in one fluid motion, he corrected her position by a firm hold on her arm, and consequently close, side by side contact. Her first thought was agreement, since that was the correct position to be escorted in. But then again, how the hell did she know what it was like to be escorted? She shot her host a brief glare, but immediately felt, again, like a brat. This man had taken her in, given her a bed to crash in, plenty of blessed water and for the most part, privacy. Who was she to let her defensive, judging, sexist ego rule her actions? Well... she did still have to hear of this 'payment' ordeal.

While wondering the twisting hallways, however, she almost forgot her company in awe.

The castle was immaculate. The hallways were richly decorated with high, pointed ceilings, but they were all dark, the only light emanating around them as they walked. She wondered at Jareth's common use of such... magic, for lack of a better word. And she began to appreciate his guidance and his presence as they passed hallways upon intersecting hallways, all with the same level of darkness and motif. She gave a small snicker at the thought of becoming lost, but smiled briefly when Jareth looked at her out of the corner of his eye.

There was a sense of intangible pressure. It kept their discussion to a minimum.

Doors were everywhere. She cursed herself for not studying the door they had left more closely. It had overlooked the outside of the castle, and may have given some insight as to which doors lead to such rooms. Though a part of her would have cried with the prospect of another maze, within a maze, she surprised herself by staying calm. She was changing. Or traumatized. She was taking all of these new surroundings in stride, apparently showing the strength of her interest and belief in Sci Fi.

After another few minutes of walking, and two hallway turns, they came upon a set of towering doors. The ceiling had opened up without notice, and the doors were crafted of the darkest wood and adorned with silver gold highlights of a strange, continuous pattern.

Jareth held up a hand, but said nothing, and both doors groaned heavily open. It was dark at first inside, and then, with another silent command, Jareth flicked his wrist and the room alighted as if the sun itself shone directly overhead. Cryn could only gasp.

Jareth turned to her with a twinkle in his eye, "My Dear, I can only assume your upbringing was rather poor for not knowing about such a concept as lighting up a room."

Cryn again, only wished she had never met the man.

Which prompted a thought. She asked as innocently as possible, "Are you a man?"

He obviously was caught off guard with that, since he seemingly acquired a hairball at that moment. He didn't dignify the question with a response however, and instead, gestured her into the room. Jareth kept his light, but firm hold on her arm, and guided her in. It was almost as if he was afraid to let her go.

It was all Cryn could do, however, so as a smile didn't blast it's way onto her face.

But her small victory was forgotten as they traversed the enormous room. Cryn literally twisted around to take it all in. Before entering the hall, Cryn had assumed it to be the dinning room, but instead found it was lined with plush chairs, sofas and low, crystalline tables. Huge paintings with ornate frames lined the hall. And everything was accentuated with a kind of metal. 'Probably precious.' But Cryn had to crease her forehead at the paintings themselves. They were done by the most talented of artists since they looked like photographs, but the subject matter was quite bizarre.

When Cryn had visited the Chicago Institute of Art on a class field trip, one of her favorite exhibits was of all the Royal European portraits that were then on tour. The kings and queens, dukes and duchesses, barons and baronesses, ambassadors and their families, wealthy merchants and royal courts. All were decadent and colorful. Cryn didn't care so much for the people themselves, for they all had the same 'kingly' arrogance and stance, but the artist's work and brushstroke were what interested her. How these, usually poor, people achieved such an image with paints they had made themselves and self taught lessons on the mathematics that govern composition, amazed Cryn to no end. And the compositions of the portraits themselves were interesting for her to compare. Of course the styles of the ages were noteworthy too. The colorful silks, velvets and gold cloth that only such esteemed families could afford.

The paintings in this Waiting Hall all reminded her of the European Royalty, except, instead of humans, or people akin to Jareth, they were all disgusting creatures, reminding her of Gremlins, or.... 'Goblins,' her mind finished for her. They didn't even fill up half of the picture. It was if the paintings were initially intended for some larger subject, but instead were used to paint these ridiculous, half pint creatures all decorated like royalty. A few even held scepters and most had crowns. The females had pristine gowns of startling color, and the males no less startling attire. They also reminded her of the creatures she saw outside her 'bedroom.' But she pushed that absurd thought aside. 'How could those dirty creatures be featured here?'

Cryn would have liked to study the paintings up close, her curiosity building up inside her, however, the light but firm grip of her host lead her to the opposite doorway.

He seemed in a kind of a rush.