MORTAL BELOVED
Chapter 10
HOME TRUTHS.
DISCLAIMER: WELL FOR ALL THOSE PPL WHO COULD'NT TELL, I DON'T OWN A SINGLE ONE OF THE CHARCTERS IN THE LABYRINTH!
PLEASE READ AND REVIEW GUYZ, I LIVE FOR FEEDBACK, LITERALLY!! AND GETTING NONE MAKES ME SAD :o(
Toran felt the steam scald his hands and felt a perverse satisfaction at the pain that is caused. He had just finished forging the fey blade that would finally enable him to kill his nemesis Jareth. He looked lovingly at the chilling blade before him and realised that this was the time that he would not fail, the Goblin's Kings blood would be spilt by his hand and it would flow to enact justice for those Jareth had murdered in cold blood, His family. Toran felt the familiar rage boil his blood and felt that at that very moment he would indeed have no problems with ripping Jareth limb from limb with his bare hands. Toran mentally told himself to cool down and he temped the rage. This was one mission that needed stealth and skill, cunning and manipulation, He would need to be methodical with the way he would extract the Goblin Kings stinking life and although he wanted nothing more than to publicly hang draw and quarter the bastard Toran knew that he must accomplish his mission in a manner that would not bring wrath upon his Father's house.
"Soon Jareth, Real soon!" he intoned softly voice reverberating with menace.
* * *
Findlay sat in the throne room and wanted desperately to scratch his lower extremities. He had no idea why Jareth would, let alone want to wear such ridiculous clothes. He opened one eye and peeked out, scarcely daring to hope that the incessantly boring diplomats had departed. He was getting sick of being royal and doing nothing fun like field missions or re-con or hand to hand combat. Findlay knew that Jareth didn't really enjoy violence and underneath that cold virtually impenetrable exterior was a fey that would only agree to going to war if it was absolutely necessary and he had no other choice.
Findlay smiled lazily to himself and shut his eye again, he had to admit though, it was a great break and he was catching up on the sleep that he usually missed out on.
Dozing off again, Findlay awoke next when he was jolted abruptly out of his dream, in the dream his opponent had gotten the better of him and was holding a blade to his throat.
Suddenly Findlay realised that it was no dream, He could still feel the blade.
"Awake you pathetic excuse for a king!" demanded the attacker, Findlay snapped open his eyes and at the same moment sent a energy wave through himself and into his attacker propelling the man a good twenty metres away from him and slamming into the throne room wall.
Findlay saw that it was Toran and knew that it was time for Jareth's plan to come into play.
Shimmering back into his normal form, Findlay approached the fey and stood his ground as the younger man got to his feet. When Toran saw that it was indeed not Jareth but Findlay in Jareth's place, he swore loudly.
Toran yelled a war cry and unsheathed his sword, the dull blade glinting off the firelight of the candles spread throughout the throne room.
"My quarrel is not with you sir! But keep me from my purpose and it soon will be!" yelled Toran. Findlay laughed with scorn.
"Do you think I shall allow a potentially hostile threat to my lords safety out of my sight?" he asked incredulously.
Toran grimaced. "You leave me no choice Lord Findlay!" he exclaimed and rushed at the older man sword drawn.
The odd, musical crash of steel on stell permeated the air. Both fey were evenly matched and no blow that was dealt remained unreciprocated There were grunts and groans as the two rolled on the floor locked in combat neither wielding, as soon as one gained an advantage the other came back in a blaze of glory. Both were bloodied and bruised, Findlays mouth gushed blood freely and Toran's nose was bent crooked, broken in the fray.
Gasping for breath, both clawed once more to their feet, each ready to continue to the death if necessary for completely different reasons.
Findlay held up his hands in truce and as soon as he did, Toran leapt upon him and wrestled him to the ground.
Findlay recognised the blade that was lowered to his throat and gasped in shock and comprehension.
The blade stopped, suspended millimetres away from the tender flesh of Findlay's neck and Toran looked him in the eye.
Findlay recognised the look of sheer pain that he saw there, he had carried it for many years himself, and wondered as to what had put it there.
"Do you know what the king you so loyally defend is really like?" demanded Toran, and Findlay remained silent, eager to hear what the young fey had to say.
"He ruthlessly slaughtered my mother, and my two older sisters.!" Exclaimed Toran voice tight with pain. Findlay felt the denials spring to mind but silenced them, letting Toran continue.
"My mother, Saleyne, and my sisters Emelda and frainae" he continued and Findlay felt as if the bottom had fallen out of his world. Suddenly he was there again, it was at the end of the civil war, and his friend Jareth was a newly crowned King who had allowed him to return home after loyal service. He had opened his door and found his home empty, the chairs and tables were overturned and the wood from the fire had been scattered over the floor along with the rest of his family's belongings. The silence was unnatural, it was surreal and he picked up his youngest daughter Emeldas teddy from the corner of the room. It was then that he noticed the blood, staining the teddy, marring its perfect features and matting it's chocolate brown fur. He had rushed through every room of their small house knowing he wouldn't find them, and praying the whole while that they had fled, had escaped the carnage and the bloodlust that the war had brought upon the Underground.
He had heard a sound and had looked up, in the doorway stood his neighbour a good and righteous man who explained what had happened, that he had witnessed the merciless execution of Findlay's wife and daughters by the warlord in chief Nagar. He then took Findlay to where he had buried them and left him alone with his grief. He had asked about his baby son, Rohwan but the neighbour hadn't seen anything and didn't know what fate had befallen the child. The war was ended but Findlay had lost all of those dear to him and the creature responsible for the slaughter of his family was never seen again.
Snapping back to the present Findlay looked Toran in the eye and knew, deep within that this was indeed the son he had thought that he had lost all of those years before.
"Toran, the tale your adopted father has told you is not true, we both lost our family on that fateful day, you are my son. I had thought you were dead, killed at the hand of that soulless butcher Nagar, my neighbour witnessed your mother, my wife, and your sisters, my daughters deaths" he stated voice quaking with emotion. Toran fell backwards and staggered to his feet.
"NO! My family is dead, my father he-he's a deserter he ran away and left my mother and sisters and I, I't doesn't make sense! Your not my father!" he shouted in disbelief. Findlay rose, "Toran, I know it's hard to believe, but please try, believe me my son, you are my son, Your name is Rohwan!" he explained, mind spinning like a demented carousel.
"I-I don't believe it" stammered Toran. Findlay smiled and held out his hand,
"How could you, but is it even possible that both our family members were killed at the same time, the same place and had the same names" he asked, pity flooding his tone.
Toran backed away, shaking his head wildly.
"No, No" he stammered breathlessly. He turned on his heel and ram for the door.
"Toran!" yelled Findlay after him, but Toran, or Rohwan was long gone.
* * *
Findlay burst through Jareth's door, and upon finding that he was not there, called the fey. "Jareth!" he yelled into the air and the Goblin King appeared before him.
"Finn, what's the matter? What is it?" demanded Jareth, looking distinctly worried.
Findlay started pacing.
"Jareth, It's Toran" he exclaimed, and Jareth nodded,
"Did you capture him like we planned to use as leverage against his father?" asked Jareth gently. Findlay shook his head,
"No Jareth, That's not what I meant, Toran he-he's my son" stated Findlay, the tears he was not crying showing through clearly in his tone.
"Findlay, that's impossible, you told me yourself, your family was brutally murdered during the civil war" stated Jareth, eyes wide with disbelief.
"I never saw my baby son's grave Jareth, the neighbour that had seen what had happened couldn't tell me what had happened to my son.. I just assumed he was dead!" he exclaimed voice raw with emotion. Jareth stood there, unable to comprehend the fact that that fey, who had harmed Sarah, and wanted to harm him, was his best friend's son.
"How could I have been so stupid?" demanded Findlay, snapping Jareth out of his silent reverie.
"Findlay, tell me everything that happened, we'll work this out, I assure you" stated Jareth and sat down on the ground beside Findlay who had slumped there mere moments before.
* * *
Toran leapt onto his horse and spurred it on, kicking it mercilessly.
"YAH!" he yelled, but his voice was whipped away by the wind. He couldn't even begin to fathom what he had been told tonight. Surely there was no way he could be Findlay's son. He thought about this for a moment, and wondered what reason he would have to lie. But then he also acknowledged that then Jareth may not be the wretch that he had thought he was. According to Findlay, a warlord named Nagar had executed his family and had then never been seen again. Toran couldn't think of a single reason as to what advantage it would be to Findlay or Jareth, for Findlay to lie about something like that.
::Maybe I have a father:: thought Toran to himself and then immediately wondered if Findlay was truly his father, then how had he ended up with Ragan.
Toran saw Findlay's face before him, saw the wash of raw emotions sweep across his face, the pain, the vulnerability, the joy. Toran remembered the name of the warlord that Findlay had mentioned. Nagar, something struck him as odd about that name but he couldn't quite place it. Suddenly it dawned on him as bright and true as the morning son, Nagar was merely Ragan spelt backwards.
Toran felt a sharp barb of fury coil tightly in his breast, and steal away his breath. He wanted nothing more than to send Ragan to the seven hells. Although he was reluctant, Toran found himself believing the pained words of Findlay and knew that he had to confront Ragan but he also had to be careful about how he did it.
* * *
Ragan was sitting in his study reading a letter from his brother Dracut, when Toran slammed open the door.
"Ragan!" he roared, and the borderlord jumped to his feet sending the chair flying.
"Ragan! Lord Findlay told me tonight that my family was murdered by a barbarous warlord called Nagar and that he is my father!" exclaimed the young fey angrily.
Ragan walked toward Toran, he could feel his pulse elevating and his heart pumping. The brat was so close to the truth he could taste it yet he seemed to be missing a piece of the puzzle. Ragan released the breath he had been unconsciously holding and felt relief soar through him.
"Why would you believe the word of the right hand man of the creature that truly did murder your family?" he asked and motioned for Toran to sit down.
* * *
Toran obliged and sat in a chair opposite Ragan and proceeded to tell him of what had occurred, deliberately omitting the fact that Findlay had told him the name of the real murderer and that he had figured out that it was Ragan.
Then the borderlord spent the better part of an hour talking Toran into not believing what he had heard and reprimanding him for once again making a foolish attempt on the powerful King's life.
Toran sat there and listened, yet he maintained his earlier opinion and tried hard to restrain himself from opening up the bastard right there and then.
Toran fought the confusion surrounding him like a mist. He had thought that he didn't know who he was before and now Findlay had come and turned the world as he knew it upside down. Toran had thought that it was all so simple, he lived, breathed and ate, and he had been bent on killing Jareth for as long as he could remember. Ever since he had been told at a very young age, by Ragan of the autorocities that his family had suffered and how he had been the sole survivor found by him and taken away from the death and destruction of the war. He closed his eyes, too many new developments and too much to deal with. Toran teleported to his castle and with one flick of his wrist, made it impenetrable to all those of non fey heritage. He needed time, he needed to be alone, and most of all, he needed to think.
* * *
Jareth sat there aghast at what he had just heard, it was true then, he had scarcely dared to believe it. He felt incredibly happy for his friend who after years of isolation suddenly had a family, a blood relation, kin.
"what should I do Jareth?" asked Findlay and the Goblin King turned to look at his friend.
"There isn't a lot that you can do, You have told Toran uh..sorry, Rohwan that you are his father" started Jareth hesitantly. Findlay was silent and so Jareth continued.
"It's up to him now, he needs to think, to come to terms and accept what he has been told. Like you, he has been alone, without family for many years and he also needs time just to deal with it all" advised Jareth. Findlay nodded and smiled at his friend. "Your right, as usual" he exclaimed. And then eager to change the subject scrutinised Jareth.
"How goes it with the Lady Sarah?" he enquired, eyebrows raised.
Jareth growled under his breath. "Knock it off Finn! I asked her to be my queen and wife, and she said that she needed time to think about it! Do you know how my sanity is taking a complete and utter beating with all this waiting?" he demanded. Findlay grinned.
"I'm happy for you Jareth, just let her know you love her and try and get her to trust you" he stated softly and Jareth nodded in acquiescence.
"She doesn't trust me because of how badly I reacted when she told me that she was a half fey" he explained and Findlay nodded.
"Yeah, I know, but if it's any consolation, I am having no better luck with Alanya, I am feeling things that have been dormant within me for a long time, that I thought I would never feel again, when I see her my heart and breath betray me, and she cannot even acknowledge that we kissed and that there is something between us, I just want to be happy" stated Findlay, remorsefully.
Jareth chuckled. "They're quite a pair aren't they" he stated, grinning and Findlay nodded. "Indeed they are" he answered.
* * *
Sarah sat in her room and looked out of the window, the sun was a delicious orange yellow hue and the sky was so clear it was almost unnatural. Alanya sat perched on the chaise lounge and looked over at her daughter.
"Mother, you know I want you to be happy, I think that if there is a chance between you and Lord Findlay then you should go for it!" she exclaimed suddenly, walking over and taking a seat beside her.
Alanya spun to face her daughter and the denial that sprung to her lips quickly died.
"Mother you need happiness and love in your life and you deserve it, surely you can see that!" she continued gesturing emphatically with her arms.
"Yes, Sarah, I am aware that that is what you think but tell me, How could it possibly work? A mortal and a fey, two different races? He is immortal and I am not" she stated rationally. Sarah smiled, and lay back on the comfortable lounge. "Mother, love knows no such boundaries, I have seen the way you look at him, your mind may not be willing to admit that you care for this man but your face, your eyes they say differently" she intoned softly, smiling sweetly.
"Sarah, there is no way a relationship between Lord Findlay and myself could work" she continued, beginning to sound exasperated.
"We'll see" replied Sarah nonchalantly. And rose to her feet, heading towards the door.
* * *
"Findlay," intoned Jareth and the fey looked up.
"I promise you, we will extract your son out of that tyrants grasp, there is nothing I won't do to make sure you are reunited with the remainder of your family. I promise you, mark my words I promise you"
Findlay stood and leaned against the door.
"Thank you my friend, for the time may come when we will need to fight for him and there is no one I would like by my side more than you"
* * *
OK, LOYAL READERS, THIS ME BEGGING, YES BEGGING FOR SOME REVIEWS BECAUSE WITHOUT YOUR OPINION, WHAT IS THE POINT OF CONTINUING?
THANX.
Eve Lindsey.
Chapter 10
HOME TRUTHS.
DISCLAIMER: WELL FOR ALL THOSE PPL WHO COULD'NT TELL, I DON'T OWN A SINGLE ONE OF THE CHARCTERS IN THE LABYRINTH!
PLEASE READ AND REVIEW GUYZ, I LIVE FOR FEEDBACK, LITERALLY!! AND GETTING NONE MAKES ME SAD :o(
Toran felt the steam scald his hands and felt a perverse satisfaction at the pain that is caused. He had just finished forging the fey blade that would finally enable him to kill his nemesis Jareth. He looked lovingly at the chilling blade before him and realised that this was the time that he would not fail, the Goblin's Kings blood would be spilt by his hand and it would flow to enact justice for those Jareth had murdered in cold blood, His family. Toran felt the familiar rage boil his blood and felt that at that very moment he would indeed have no problems with ripping Jareth limb from limb with his bare hands. Toran mentally told himself to cool down and he temped the rage. This was one mission that needed stealth and skill, cunning and manipulation, He would need to be methodical with the way he would extract the Goblin Kings stinking life and although he wanted nothing more than to publicly hang draw and quarter the bastard Toran knew that he must accomplish his mission in a manner that would not bring wrath upon his Father's house.
"Soon Jareth, Real soon!" he intoned softly voice reverberating with menace.
* * *
Findlay sat in the throne room and wanted desperately to scratch his lower extremities. He had no idea why Jareth would, let alone want to wear such ridiculous clothes. He opened one eye and peeked out, scarcely daring to hope that the incessantly boring diplomats had departed. He was getting sick of being royal and doing nothing fun like field missions or re-con or hand to hand combat. Findlay knew that Jareth didn't really enjoy violence and underneath that cold virtually impenetrable exterior was a fey that would only agree to going to war if it was absolutely necessary and he had no other choice.
Findlay smiled lazily to himself and shut his eye again, he had to admit though, it was a great break and he was catching up on the sleep that he usually missed out on.
Dozing off again, Findlay awoke next when he was jolted abruptly out of his dream, in the dream his opponent had gotten the better of him and was holding a blade to his throat.
Suddenly Findlay realised that it was no dream, He could still feel the blade.
"Awake you pathetic excuse for a king!" demanded the attacker, Findlay snapped open his eyes and at the same moment sent a energy wave through himself and into his attacker propelling the man a good twenty metres away from him and slamming into the throne room wall.
Findlay saw that it was Toran and knew that it was time for Jareth's plan to come into play.
Shimmering back into his normal form, Findlay approached the fey and stood his ground as the younger man got to his feet. When Toran saw that it was indeed not Jareth but Findlay in Jareth's place, he swore loudly.
Toran yelled a war cry and unsheathed his sword, the dull blade glinting off the firelight of the candles spread throughout the throne room.
"My quarrel is not with you sir! But keep me from my purpose and it soon will be!" yelled Toran. Findlay laughed with scorn.
"Do you think I shall allow a potentially hostile threat to my lords safety out of my sight?" he asked incredulously.
Toran grimaced. "You leave me no choice Lord Findlay!" he exclaimed and rushed at the older man sword drawn.
The odd, musical crash of steel on stell permeated the air. Both fey were evenly matched and no blow that was dealt remained unreciprocated There were grunts and groans as the two rolled on the floor locked in combat neither wielding, as soon as one gained an advantage the other came back in a blaze of glory. Both were bloodied and bruised, Findlays mouth gushed blood freely and Toran's nose was bent crooked, broken in the fray.
Gasping for breath, both clawed once more to their feet, each ready to continue to the death if necessary for completely different reasons.
Findlay held up his hands in truce and as soon as he did, Toran leapt upon him and wrestled him to the ground.
Findlay recognised the blade that was lowered to his throat and gasped in shock and comprehension.
The blade stopped, suspended millimetres away from the tender flesh of Findlay's neck and Toran looked him in the eye.
Findlay recognised the look of sheer pain that he saw there, he had carried it for many years himself, and wondered as to what had put it there.
"Do you know what the king you so loyally defend is really like?" demanded Toran, and Findlay remained silent, eager to hear what the young fey had to say.
"He ruthlessly slaughtered my mother, and my two older sisters.!" Exclaimed Toran voice tight with pain. Findlay felt the denials spring to mind but silenced them, letting Toran continue.
"My mother, Saleyne, and my sisters Emelda and frainae" he continued and Findlay felt as if the bottom had fallen out of his world. Suddenly he was there again, it was at the end of the civil war, and his friend Jareth was a newly crowned King who had allowed him to return home after loyal service. He had opened his door and found his home empty, the chairs and tables were overturned and the wood from the fire had been scattered over the floor along with the rest of his family's belongings. The silence was unnatural, it was surreal and he picked up his youngest daughter Emeldas teddy from the corner of the room. It was then that he noticed the blood, staining the teddy, marring its perfect features and matting it's chocolate brown fur. He had rushed through every room of their small house knowing he wouldn't find them, and praying the whole while that they had fled, had escaped the carnage and the bloodlust that the war had brought upon the Underground.
He had heard a sound and had looked up, in the doorway stood his neighbour a good and righteous man who explained what had happened, that he had witnessed the merciless execution of Findlay's wife and daughters by the warlord in chief Nagar. He then took Findlay to where he had buried them and left him alone with his grief. He had asked about his baby son, Rohwan but the neighbour hadn't seen anything and didn't know what fate had befallen the child. The war was ended but Findlay had lost all of those dear to him and the creature responsible for the slaughter of his family was never seen again.
Snapping back to the present Findlay looked Toran in the eye and knew, deep within that this was indeed the son he had thought that he had lost all of those years before.
"Toran, the tale your adopted father has told you is not true, we both lost our family on that fateful day, you are my son. I had thought you were dead, killed at the hand of that soulless butcher Nagar, my neighbour witnessed your mother, my wife, and your sisters, my daughters deaths" he stated voice quaking with emotion. Toran fell backwards and staggered to his feet.
"NO! My family is dead, my father he-he's a deserter he ran away and left my mother and sisters and I, I't doesn't make sense! Your not my father!" he shouted in disbelief. Findlay rose, "Toran, I know it's hard to believe, but please try, believe me my son, you are my son, Your name is Rohwan!" he explained, mind spinning like a demented carousel.
"I-I don't believe it" stammered Toran. Findlay smiled and held out his hand,
"How could you, but is it even possible that both our family members were killed at the same time, the same place and had the same names" he asked, pity flooding his tone.
Toran backed away, shaking his head wildly.
"No, No" he stammered breathlessly. He turned on his heel and ram for the door.
"Toran!" yelled Findlay after him, but Toran, or Rohwan was long gone.
* * *
Findlay burst through Jareth's door, and upon finding that he was not there, called the fey. "Jareth!" he yelled into the air and the Goblin King appeared before him.
"Finn, what's the matter? What is it?" demanded Jareth, looking distinctly worried.
Findlay started pacing.
"Jareth, It's Toran" he exclaimed, and Jareth nodded,
"Did you capture him like we planned to use as leverage against his father?" asked Jareth gently. Findlay shook his head,
"No Jareth, That's not what I meant, Toran he-he's my son" stated Findlay, the tears he was not crying showing through clearly in his tone.
"Findlay, that's impossible, you told me yourself, your family was brutally murdered during the civil war" stated Jareth, eyes wide with disbelief.
"I never saw my baby son's grave Jareth, the neighbour that had seen what had happened couldn't tell me what had happened to my son.. I just assumed he was dead!" he exclaimed voice raw with emotion. Jareth stood there, unable to comprehend the fact that that fey, who had harmed Sarah, and wanted to harm him, was his best friend's son.
"How could I have been so stupid?" demanded Findlay, snapping Jareth out of his silent reverie.
"Findlay, tell me everything that happened, we'll work this out, I assure you" stated Jareth and sat down on the ground beside Findlay who had slumped there mere moments before.
* * *
Toran leapt onto his horse and spurred it on, kicking it mercilessly.
"YAH!" he yelled, but his voice was whipped away by the wind. He couldn't even begin to fathom what he had been told tonight. Surely there was no way he could be Findlay's son. He thought about this for a moment, and wondered what reason he would have to lie. But then he also acknowledged that then Jareth may not be the wretch that he had thought he was. According to Findlay, a warlord named Nagar had executed his family and had then never been seen again. Toran couldn't think of a single reason as to what advantage it would be to Findlay or Jareth, for Findlay to lie about something like that.
::Maybe I have a father:: thought Toran to himself and then immediately wondered if Findlay was truly his father, then how had he ended up with Ragan.
Toran saw Findlay's face before him, saw the wash of raw emotions sweep across his face, the pain, the vulnerability, the joy. Toran remembered the name of the warlord that Findlay had mentioned. Nagar, something struck him as odd about that name but he couldn't quite place it. Suddenly it dawned on him as bright and true as the morning son, Nagar was merely Ragan spelt backwards.
Toran felt a sharp barb of fury coil tightly in his breast, and steal away his breath. He wanted nothing more than to send Ragan to the seven hells. Although he was reluctant, Toran found himself believing the pained words of Findlay and knew that he had to confront Ragan but he also had to be careful about how he did it.
* * *
Ragan was sitting in his study reading a letter from his brother Dracut, when Toran slammed open the door.
"Ragan!" he roared, and the borderlord jumped to his feet sending the chair flying.
"Ragan! Lord Findlay told me tonight that my family was murdered by a barbarous warlord called Nagar and that he is my father!" exclaimed the young fey angrily.
Ragan walked toward Toran, he could feel his pulse elevating and his heart pumping. The brat was so close to the truth he could taste it yet he seemed to be missing a piece of the puzzle. Ragan released the breath he had been unconsciously holding and felt relief soar through him.
"Why would you believe the word of the right hand man of the creature that truly did murder your family?" he asked and motioned for Toran to sit down.
* * *
Toran obliged and sat in a chair opposite Ragan and proceeded to tell him of what had occurred, deliberately omitting the fact that Findlay had told him the name of the real murderer and that he had figured out that it was Ragan.
Then the borderlord spent the better part of an hour talking Toran into not believing what he had heard and reprimanding him for once again making a foolish attempt on the powerful King's life.
Toran sat there and listened, yet he maintained his earlier opinion and tried hard to restrain himself from opening up the bastard right there and then.
Toran fought the confusion surrounding him like a mist. He had thought that he didn't know who he was before and now Findlay had come and turned the world as he knew it upside down. Toran had thought that it was all so simple, he lived, breathed and ate, and he had been bent on killing Jareth for as long as he could remember. Ever since he had been told at a very young age, by Ragan of the autorocities that his family had suffered and how he had been the sole survivor found by him and taken away from the death and destruction of the war. He closed his eyes, too many new developments and too much to deal with. Toran teleported to his castle and with one flick of his wrist, made it impenetrable to all those of non fey heritage. He needed time, he needed to be alone, and most of all, he needed to think.
* * *
Jareth sat there aghast at what he had just heard, it was true then, he had scarcely dared to believe it. He felt incredibly happy for his friend who after years of isolation suddenly had a family, a blood relation, kin.
"what should I do Jareth?" asked Findlay and the Goblin King turned to look at his friend.
"There isn't a lot that you can do, You have told Toran uh..sorry, Rohwan that you are his father" started Jareth hesitantly. Findlay was silent and so Jareth continued.
"It's up to him now, he needs to think, to come to terms and accept what he has been told. Like you, he has been alone, without family for many years and he also needs time just to deal with it all" advised Jareth. Findlay nodded and smiled at his friend. "Your right, as usual" he exclaimed. And then eager to change the subject scrutinised Jareth.
"How goes it with the Lady Sarah?" he enquired, eyebrows raised.
Jareth growled under his breath. "Knock it off Finn! I asked her to be my queen and wife, and she said that she needed time to think about it! Do you know how my sanity is taking a complete and utter beating with all this waiting?" he demanded. Findlay grinned.
"I'm happy for you Jareth, just let her know you love her and try and get her to trust you" he stated softly and Jareth nodded in acquiescence.
"She doesn't trust me because of how badly I reacted when she told me that she was a half fey" he explained and Findlay nodded.
"Yeah, I know, but if it's any consolation, I am having no better luck with Alanya, I am feeling things that have been dormant within me for a long time, that I thought I would never feel again, when I see her my heart and breath betray me, and she cannot even acknowledge that we kissed and that there is something between us, I just want to be happy" stated Findlay, remorsefully.
Jareth chuckled. "They're quite a pair aren't they" he stated, grinning and Findlay nodded. "Indeed they are" he answered.
* * *
Sarah sat in her room and looked out of the window, the sun was a delicious orange yellow hue and the sky was so clear it was almost unnatural. Alanya sat perched on the chaise lounge and looked over at her daughter.
"Mother, you know I want you to be happy, I think that if there is a chance between you and Lord Findlay then you should go for it!" she exclaimed suddenly, walking over and taking a seat beside her.
Alanya spun to face her daughter and the denial that sprung to her lips quickly died.
"Mother you need happiness and love in your life and you deserve it, surely you can see that!" she continued gesturing emphatically with her arms.
"Yes, Sarah, I am aware that that is what you think but tell me, How could it possibly work? A mortal and a fey, two different races? He is immortal and I am not" she stated rationally. Sarah smiled, and lay back on the comfortable lounge. "Mother, love knows no such boundaries, I have seen the way you look at him, your mind may not be willing to admit that you care for this man but your face, your eyes they say differently" she intoned softly, smiling sweetly.
"Sarah, there is no way a relationship between Lord Findlay and myself could work" she continued, beginning to sound exasperated.
"We'll see" replied Sarah nonchalantly. And rose to her feet, heading towards the door.
* * *
"Findlay," intoned Jareth and the fey looked up.
"I promise you, we will extract your son out of that tyrants grasp, there is nothing I won't do to make sure you are reunited with the remainder of your family. I promise you, mark my words I promise you"
Findlay stood and leaned against the door.
"Thank you my friend, for the time may come when we will need to fight for him and there is no one I would like by my side more than you"
* * *
OK, LOYAL READERS, THIS ME BEGGING, YES BEGGING FOR SOME REVIEWS BECAUSE WITHOUT YOUR OPINION, WHAT IS THE POINT OF CONTINUING?
THANX.
Eve Lindsey.