CHAPTER V: No Harm
Dinner was being readied for serving as the guests chattered in groups about the hall preceding the dining room. The chamber was a small ballroom, only designed for intimate parties with small guest lists. It was crowded with creatures of all sorts: faeries, fieries, beasts, elves, half-elves, dwarves, felines, humans, canines, and all other exotic mixtures of beings. Social level nor bias hindered the jovial atmosphere, and it seemed that the laughter reached somewhere into the tune of the band that was playing, grabbed the notes and squeezed them so hard that they became more violent with life. Dimly lit and luxurious in its tapestries, stained-glass windows, Persian rugs and crystal ornaments, the room glowed with the otherworldly decadence of the small chandelier that swung high above the heads of those in the crowd, tinkling with this motion caused by body heat and flames. Every creature was decked in its finest, women sparkled with witticism and beauty, and men with charm and the eloquence that exudes from healthy candor.
Sarah made her way through this group, her blue silk gown, if viewed from above, looking as if it were parting the Red Sea. Compliments and greetings fell from her lipsticked purple mouth, the outline of which was so fine that one might swear her lips were naturally so bold. When she spoke, the curled tufts of hair that had not been gathered into the French bun atop her head flurried beneath her warm breath. Each man turned his head appreciatively at the queen's alabaster shoulders, which protruded above the sea-blue silken puffs of her brocade gown. An elegant, manicured hand lay delicately atop her breast, the pink nails of which shone as brightly as the diamonds in the brooch that held together the ends of her taffeta cape. Her beauty held everyone captive, yet did not hold captive in Sarah that pride which lends itself to ugliness. Lovely, yet unaware of her loveliness, Sarah took great pains to make every guest feel welcomed, treating man no less than woman, child equally respected as adult.
Somewhere in the crowd, a short man of thirty looked through the crowd as Sarah's face became apparent above it. He turned his head this way and that, trying to keep her beauty within his sight. His companion, who looked about the same age, but did not possess the awkwardness of one who is ignorant of social graces during a social event, gazed coolly at the same subject as his friend, making no attempts to regain vision when the queen's face was concealed by the crowd, but seeming as if his lack of worry over the matter did not stem from his lack of interest in it. Thin lips smiled knowingly as he watched, and his healthy, olive complexion glowed gold beneath the aura of a nearby candle.
"Who is that?" asked his friend, who whistled. His gesture did not seem to be one of degradation, but one of custom. "Quite a perty lass."
The man beside him crossed his arms, wrinkling the stately but unassuming jacket he wore. A smile appeared between his trimmed mustache and goatee. "You have never seen the queen?" he asked, a thinly veiled humor seeping into his voice.
"What, and you have?" the man grunted, obviously familiar with his friend's behaviors. "She doesn't go prancin' about the kingdom, I can assure you."
"I have seen her..." he said, his eyes hazing over in thought as his voice drifted off to almost a whisper, "...here and there."
"What was that?" the short man asked roughly, straining his ears to hear over the noise in the room.
"Nothing." He uncrossed his arms, and his blond hair, tapered but smooth, came just below his chin, covering his slightly pointed ears.
"You're lucky they let us set up shop here, considering how late we were in applying for booth space," the shorter man commented, his red moustache quivering as he grunted at a sudden thought. "Seeing your little 'splurge' yesterday, we're going to have to get some serious funds together."
The blond-headed man sighed impatiently. "Oh, do be quiet about that. I have assured you, it will be no problem. I have money stashed; you know I am prepared for anything." A serving-woman passed by with a tray of light liquors, and his friend took a champagne glass.
"Would you like one?" he asked his refined companion.
The tall man waved a slender hand at the offer. "No, best to do without."
"But what harm can it do?"
Again, he denied the offer. "A world," he answered, "if you have a record for becoming overly driven in the presence of any type liquor."
"Any type liquor?" He chuckled brashly. "Like women?"
The other man stroked his goatee thoughtfully. "You can make that comparison, if you so choose."
The stout man laughed as he brought the glass to his lips. "Yeah, that's what you meant, all right." He downed half the glass, then said, "And you are certainly driven. Though, I could have no clue who you gave that's what you meant, all right." He downed half the glass, then said, "And you are certainly driven. Though, I could have no clue who you gave that big bunch of--"
A hand came forth to silence him. The great doors to the dining hall began to open, and the crowd gushed in. "Dinner's begun. Please, let's not speak anymore of it. You know I am already anxious because of it, and you only make it worse with your constant nagging."
"Pardon me, Your Highness," his friend replied sarcastically as he scratched his copper hair in confusion at the other man's behavior.
The blond-headed man merely gazed at him irritably with intense, green eyes.
* * *
Sarah had finally found Sage amidst the mass of bodies, and managed to get past all of the little cliques without much conversation. There was no time to speak with him, but she gave him a knowing smile, to which he replied by slipping his arm about hers. The elf was only as high as her shoulder, and she could not make out if he was grinning, or not. Once they had reached the head of the crowd, Sarah bid the servants open the doors. Everyone entered in an orderly fashion and stood behind their respective seats, the ones at the front of the room being reserved for Sarah, Sage, Damion, Hoggle, Ludo, Sir Didymus, and the kings and queens of the visiting realms. Sarah noticed that one other seat had been reserved to her left, but the table bore no name card. She wondered how such an obvious mistake could have been made.
While the guests were coming to order, Sarah turned to Sage and said, "It's a pity Leah could not be here. I was hoping she wouldn't have to miss this."
Sage nodded in sober affirmation. "You are right... I miss her presence."
"Why is there not a card here?" she asked off-handishly.
The elf's brow wrinkled in thought. "I honestly do not know... Maybe it was a mistake."
Sarah frowned uncertainly, but did not let it worry her. "Perhaps."
The dining hall was dimly lit, as the ballroom, and it gave a somber, hushed, and opulent air to the feast. A painting of Sarah was high on the wall above her head; it was the same painting that Jareth had once owned, and depicted Sarah at 15, wearing the Cinderella-like gown that she had also worn while dancing with him in the mystical realm of his crystals. It was a remarkable piece of work, and Sarah had been hesitant to rid of it, even though she was wary of keeping any reminders of Jareth in the castle. She had decided to put the value of art above the value of bitterness, and had never regretted her decision.
Upon the table there were culinary delights galore: chicken, fish, and steaks, cooked in every way imaginable; corn, peas, vegetable stews, and fresh salads; creamy clam chowders and steaming broths with rice; cider, wine, champagne, grape juice, cream, brew, punch, and spirits; noodle casseroles, lasagne, and meaty pies; merangue pies with strawberry relish, dripping fudge brownies, flaky pastries filled with creme, towering angel cakes and oozing apple pies; and every fruit custard known to man. The food smells mingled with the perfumes and colognes, and made Sarah suddenly dizzy with anticipation.
The large group came to order, and Sarah clinked her fork against a champagne glass. Murmers ceased as the queen prepared to make her speech.
Sarah gave everyone a sweeping glance and gracious smile before beginning. "Guests....friends..... I'd like to welcome you to my castle during this very special fortnight. Tomorrow will be the fourth anniversary of the first day that began this kingdom's independence. As you probably already know by now, that was the first day of the journey that the former king, Jareth sent me on the journey that brought me knowledge of a special talisman and gave me the opportunity to free the city of its curse. I do not hold myself responsible for this city's freedom; the heavens willed it that my presence should prove useful-- I did not plan such a thing on my own."
Sage put his hand on her arm and laughed. "Oh, she is so modest!" The guests replied with a reverberating chuckle.
Sarah smiled at her elfin companion, then replied, "Well, say what you like, but I am being honest." Her face darkened a moment in sadness, and she finally continued, "I would like to take this opportunity to make a few comments. Perhaps this is not the time or place, but I feel it is relevant." She clasped her hands together before her. "Four years ago I did battle with Jareth, the Goblin King. During that time I was very uncertain of my opinion of him; at times I despised him, at others I pitied him. Strangely enough, I find myself thinking now that, if I had never encountered him, I would never have arrived here. This is my true home, and it has been waiting here for several years without my knowledge. Jareth offered me my hopes and dreams many years ago... and I got them. Yesterday, the possibility of his death was brought to my knowledge. I found myself wondering what he would be doing if he were not." Sarah began to realize that she was going off the main subject. There was more on her mind than she planned to reveal, but she was unconsciously laying out her complete thoughts. It was unprofessional, not to mention the fact that Jareth might even be there that very moment! Ha! What a thought! Of course, he was most likely dead, as Benedick had said. Her little jokes of irony to herself were a bit more unsettling than she wished them to be sometimes. "Well, to make a long story short, I have, after nine years of seething dislike, forgiven Jareth for his crimes. Something tells me that I must... In his own odd way, Jareth brought something new into all of our lives... My main point in revealing this is such: I will fight any danger to our kingdom to death, if need be, whether it is raging fires or Goblin Kings. But, I can forgive. Up until now, there have been a few kingdoms denied entrance into our treaties... Henceforth, despite their former actions, I open my doors to them. This will not be a kingdom of bias, even if it is a bias caused by an instinctive need to protect the kingdom. My arms are wide open to everyone, and I want it to eventually be the same all over the Underground."
Her speech received great applause. All eyes gazed reverently upon her and upon her kindness. An Irish-looking man rose his glass and exclaimed, "A toast to Her Majesty, the queen!!"
Every creature raised their glass and answered, "Hear, hear!" before sipping their wine. Sarah joined them, then motioned for everyone to be seated. Noise once again echoed throughout the hall as conversation and eating began. Out of the corner of her eye, Sarah caught Sage glancing nervously at the clock, and then at the empty seat at the table. He was up to something, she was sure of it.
"That was a marvelous speech," Sage commented as he placed his napkin in his lap. "It was also wonderful that you put your feelings out in the open; many people were wondering your opinion on each matter you discussed. Just make sure you are still careful when opening your arms to everyone; some will take advantage of your kindness."
Sarah swallowed a bit of her salad before answering, "Yes, I know what you mean. It is hard for me to be wise about decisions and still be idealistic. It's a very difficult balance."
"You are not expected to balance it completely; only the yen and the yang are equal in weight. You will learn a healthy balance... And there are people who care deeply about your success, to help make your falls softer and your successes more grand. You are truly lucky; there are not many rulers with those blessings."
Sarah put her hand upon Sage's. "Yes, you are right... And you have been so kind to me." She winked at him. "Maybe too kind."
He smiled at her. "What do you mean, dear Sarah? You could not possibly know about my surprise yet."
Sarah laughed. "Haha! I knew it was you!"
Suddenly Sage appeared confused. "You knew it was me? Doing what? I have not revealed my surprise yet... My surprise is a little late."
With an exaggerated motion, Sarah shook an accusing finger at the elf. "Don't play coy with me. I know it was you."
"Honestly, Sarah, I do not know what you are talking about."
Sarah analyzed him and realized he was telling the truth. "You didn't put all of those flowers in my room? If it wasn't you, then who was it?"
"Flowers?"
Taking a sip of her wine, Sarah soon replied, "Yes, I came to my room for a nap, and found my room filled with vases of flowers. There were flower petals all over my bed, as if someone were wooing me."
"Wooing you? I wonder how they got in without being seen."
Sarah frowned. "Yes, it does trouble me."
Abruptly, a knowing look came across Sage's countenance. "Well, of all the-- "
"What is it?"
He quickly gained his composure and replied, "Oh, nothing."
"You can't do that to me!"
He winked at her and said, "Ah, but I can. And I must... it will be more fun this way, you shall see."
"It will be fun for you. It is torture for me."
"There will be something soon to occupy your mind."
Sarah gave him a sidelong glance. "Would it have anything to do with that empty chair?"
"Ah, but you are too smart for me!!" Sage chuckled, then took a swig of his wine. "My dear Sarah, I am almost sorry it was not I who put those flowers in your room! Your intelligence and charm are worth the wooing."
She took his hands between hers. "You are the charmer, old friend."
* * *
"You are quite the fool, Granen," the blond-headed man said irritably to his Irish friend. "You have had too much to drink. Your brain is one great sponge, and soaks up any liquor as if it were sea-water."
Granen gave him a heedless grin and nudged him. "No harm'n gettin' the pos'tive attentions of th'queen. I rather like'er."
His companion put down his eating utensils and faced Granen with frowning concentration. "You do not even know her."
"I know all I need to know," the man replied boldly. "She's perty, and she's got good etiquette. That makes a real woman'n my part'o the country."
"Well, I daresay, it takes much more than that to make a real woman. And twice that to make a good queen." The gentleman peered into the distance with a pondering expression. "You would be more respected by women if you showed them respect for something other than their beauty or social charms."
"Oh, and you're to talk!" Granen exclaimed in a loud whisper. "What women have you got to prove yer point? Not one! And I haven't seen you with one yet! Not one in the three years you'n I have gone a'travelin' together."
"I am saving myself for the right woman."
Granen grunted. "Sure, as if'n you gone 'round lookin' for'er."
"I have already found her."
A surprised look took grip of the Irishman's features. "Where?"
"She's close by." His eyes drifted to the end of the table.
Granen nearly spit out his food in his mirth. "The Queen? Hah! You're a fine joker!! As if'n she'd give you the time'o day!"
He put the tips of his fingers together thoughtfully and leaned forward. "One can hope, my friend... One can hope."
* * *
Sir Dydimus looked up from his concentrated shoveling of food and declared, "Your Majesty, this is the finest meal I hath eaten in all of my royal feasts. I commend your chefs."
"Thank you, Sir," Sarah answered with a nod of her head.
A grunt came from Hoggle's direction. "As if you've been to a million feasts."
"Why, I would have you know, my brother, I have been to twenty-nine such feasts!" Sir Didymus replied, unaffected. "The last I attended was in my honour!"
A disbelieving, yet interested look took ahold of Hoggle's features. "Whad'you do?"
The fox seemed pleased to have the opportunity to tell a tale. "It was a Fiery feast... Though, they are quite a trying lot, but they are also quite amiable. One of them lost his head, and I helped him to find it, seeing that I am a knight of the old code. The ordeal was quite perilous, surprisingly enough, and I only found his head after hours of searching. There ist no need to describe his joy over my discovery; they had quite a tearful reunion. The good fellows threw me a feast for my effort."
Benedick spoke up, twitching his whiskers in a sarcastic smirk. "You say he lost his head? Fieries are quite known for that, and in more than one sense, I assure you!"
The Dwarven Queen, Delina, nudged him and reproachingly whispered, "My dear feline, there are Fiery guests here; I wouldn't speak so loud, if I were you."
"Oh, c'mon, Delina... I meant nothing harmful by it!" Benedick laughed heartily. "It's not as if we felines don't have our little quirks. Hourly bathing, insatiable milk cravings..."
"Hairballs," Sage mumbled under his breath.
Benedick pointed an accusing finger at the elf, his claw protracting in the movement. "I heard that, Sage!" He shook his finger at him a few times before picking up his fork again to cut his fish. "Well, we felines don't have that blasted millenium life-span that you elves are famous for... I mean, really, you being about to nag people for a thousand years!! You must be the king of nuisances!"
Sage chuckled and replied, "Yes, you are correct." With a stiff lip, he looked down at his food and mumbled, "But, then again, I don't go hacking away in the middle of a meal." Benedick had not caught the comment, but everyone else who was in the area had. While the cat continued his meal in an air of forced silence, Sage dropped his fork and began coughing. Sarah looked up with a startled expression, but did not fret when she realized what Sage was doing. The elf began hacking and hacking, as if he were trying to get something dislodged from his throat, yet it was apparent that he was not choking, for he was smiling broadly, and making exaggerated motions. Benedick looked up from his plate and Sarah tried not to spit out her food in her strangled laughter. Sage sobered up for a moment, gripping his neck, and said in a throaty voice,"Please forgive me, I can't quite get it out..."
"What are you about, Sage?" Benedick asked with a raised eyebrow as the table broke out in riotous laughter.
Delina controlled herself long enough to exclaim, "And at a royal feast! You should be ashamed of yourself, Sage!!"
Finally Sage seemed to have coughed the object out into his hand, and he took a swig of wine. "I am so sorry," he said with an almost sincere look of apology. "I guess we elves are too subject to hairballs."
Sarah fell back into her chair, very unqueenly, but very much amused. "Oh, Sage, you are the absolute devil!"
Benedick looked on with a dumfounded expression, as if he had been utterly fooled by Sage's act and felt like dunce because of it. "Let me see what you have in your hand, elf!"
Sage looked down into his hand, then looked up at Benedick. "I assure you, it is not very pleasant, my feline friend."
Benedick gave him a sardonic grin. "I have seen plenty a hairball, I assure you."
"Very well, then, you may have it!" Sage then tossed the object across the room, and the cat caught it with a swift motion.
The cat looked up at Sage with a wrinkled brow upon his examination of the thing. "Very funny!"
"Come, let us see it!" Delina urged as the feline covered it with his hand.
Grudgingly, the cat held up the object. It was a pendant with a painted image of Benedick on it. "Are you trying to say that I am a hairball, Sage?" Benedick asked in a good-natured tone.
"Never, Benedick my feline friend." Sage gave the cat a lopsided grin. "You just look like one."
"Very well, then, Sage. You'll get what's coming to you."
"Hopefully not another hairball... Those things are gastly."
With an air of superiority, the cat replied, "I will ignore you now, and continue my meal." He turned to face Sarah and smiled. "Your Majesty, this is the best smoked herring I've had in ages! And the milk is so sweet! You certainly do know how to throw a party."
"Well, that's one thing I did right during high school." Sarah chuckled to herself before continuing. "I always dreamt that I would one day be in a big production called a Boradway play. I would then have the biggest cast party afterward. I threw many parties during high school for, what I called, practice." Again, she laughed. "I was a big dreamer back then."
"Oh, c'mon missy," Hoggle said. "You still dream, dontcha?"
"Well, I don't want to be one to look the gift horse in the mouth," Sarah said sheepishly, "but, when you have everything you could ever wish for, there's not much dreaming left to do. I kind of have more practical goals now. My dreams are to make this kingdom successful and to bring unity to the Underground... Dreams that aren't really for myself. I'm not saying that I don't cherish those dreams in the same way as ones for myself, just that my outlook on life has changed."
Ludo looked up from his slow concentrated eating. With a cocked head he said, "Sarah-- need dreams."
"Yes, fair maiden," Didymus added. "Everyone needs dreams."
"Well, maybe I've still got a lot to learn," Sarah answered. "I just don't have many dreams at this moment. Perhaps I'm still adjusting to--"
"BOY! What a turnout!!"
Everyone in the room jerked their heads to see the source of the exclamation. In front of the double doors that led into the dining hall stood an almost identical replica of Sarah, wearing her hair in a pony-tail while sneakers protruded from beneath her purple taffeta dress of simple design. She bent over to pull off her tennis shoe and replaced it with a pump. "Sorry I'm late."
"Leah!" Sarah exclaimed as she jumped out of her chair and went to hug her twin. The surprise of seeing Leah was almost as great as when she had discovered her within Shadow Mountain four years ago. She already had a world of things to tell her, and was sure that her "shadow" had a few adventures from Aboveground to share, as well. She took a moment to examine the woman up-close. Leah's had apparently died her hair a reddish-brown, and had cut it so that it was chin-length. Her counterpart was well-groomed and decidedly pretty, but still had an air of boyishness about her. That's good-old Leah for you, she thought as a smile widened on her face. Count on her to come to a royal feast in sneakers.
Sarah took Leah by the hand and led her to the front of the room. "Everyone, may I have your attention?!" A warm, tingling happiness welled up inside of Sarah with this new pleasant arrival to her day. The room was quickly empty of the murmering voices as the guests looked up from their meal. "This is Leah, my former shadow and best friend. If it were not for her, I probably would not be here today!"
"Is it truly milady Leah?" Sir Didymus asked as he rose from his seat and approached Sarah's twin. He grasped her hand delicately and laid a kiss upon it. "I am very honoured to once again be in your presence." He looked up at Sarah and added, "If 'twere not for milady, we should not ever have been free of the Shadow Mountains."
"Yeah, lucky for me I found her before Jareth's shadow came to plague her. That would have been a misfortune!" Leah exclaimed with a laugh.
Some of the guests chuckled at this remark, while Sage said, "Come, have a seat, Leah, and join us in our meal."
* * *
The blond-headed man dropped his fork and put his hand to his head, as if in pain. Granen dropped his own fork and put his hand on his companion's shoulder. "What's th'matter, lad? What's troublin' you? Not ill, are ye?"
"No, Granen, not physically," the man replied, sighing heavily. "I ache within...for the pain I have caused everyone else." He put his napkin down and looked up purposefully at the ceiling. "I have many preparations to make... There is so much still left to atone for, and so little time."
"What be ya speakin' of, lad? I don't quite follow ye." A surprised expression took ahold of his features as the blond-headed man took a swig of the wine that sat before him. "You must really be disturbed, if ya be drinkin' liquor. Come, tell me. You know you can trust me... "
"No, Granen," the man replied, stroking his goatee thoughtfully. "I do not wish to share it yet. I must leave, now." He rose from the table and pushed back his chair. "There is much to be done." Leaving his friend behind with his jaw agape in wonder, the man went toward the doors that led into the dining hall. He turned around and gazed somerbly at the queen. "My dearest Sarah..." he whispered to himself. "I promise that no harm shall come to you, now or ever again. Even if I must die."
Dinner was being readied for serving as the guests chattered in groups about the hall preceding the dining room. The chamber was a small ballroom, only designed for intimate parties with small guest lists. It was crowded with creatures of all sorts: faeries, fieries, beasts, elves, half-elves, dwarves, felines, humans, canines, and all other exotic mixtures of beings. Social level nor bias hindered the jovial atmosphere, and it seemed that the laughter reached somewhere into the tune of the band that was playing, grabbed the notes and squeezed them so hard that they became more violent with life. Dimly lit and luxurious in its tapestries, stained-glass windows, Persian rugs and crystal ornaments, the room glowed with the otherworldly decadence of the small chandelier that swung high above the heads of those in the crowd, tinkling with this motion caused by body heat and flames. Every creature was decked in its finest, women sparkled with witticism and beauty, and men with charm and the eloquence that exudes from healthy candor.
Sarah made her way through this group, her blue silk gown, if viewed from above, looking as if it were parting the Red Sea. Compliments and greetings fell from her lipsticked purple mouth, the outline of which was so fine that one might swear her lips were naturally so bold. When she spoke, the curled tufts of hair that had not been gathered into the French bun atop her head flurried beneath her warm breath. Each man turned his head appreciatively at the queen's alabaster shoulders, which protruded above the sea-blue silken puffs of her brocade gown. An elegant, manicured hand lay delicately atop her breast, the pink nails of which shone as brightly as the diamonds in the brooch that held together the ends of her taffeta cape. Her beauty held everyone captive, yet did not hold captive in Sarah that pride which lends itself to ugliness. Lovely, yet unaware of her loveliness, Sarah took great pains to make every guest feel welcomed, treating man no less than woman, child equally respected as adult.
Somewhere in the crowd, a short man of thirty looked through the crowd as Sarah's face became apparent above it. He turned his head this way and that, trying to keep her beauty within his sight. His companion, who looked about the same age, but did not possess the awkwardness of one who is ignorant of social graces during a social event, gazed coolly at the same subject as his friend, making no attempts to regain vision when the queen's face was concealed by the crowd, but seeming as if his lack of worry over the matter did not stem from his lack of interest in it. Thin lips smiled knowingly as he watched, and his healthy, olive complexion glowed gold beneath the aura of a nearby candle.
"Who is that?" asked his friend, who whistled. His gesture did not seem to be one of degradation, but one of custom. "Quite a perty lass."
The man beside him crossed his arms, wrinkling the stately but unassuming jacket he wore. A smile appeared between his trimmed mustache and goatee. "You have never seen the queen?" he asked, a thinly veiled humor seeping into his voice.
"What, and you have?" the man grunted, obviously familiar with his friend's behaviors. "She doesn't go prancin' about the kingdom, I can assure you."
"I have seen her..." he said, his eyes hazing over in thought as his voice drifted off to almost a whisper, "...here and there."
"What was that?" the short man asked roughly, straining his ears to hear over the noise in the room.
"Nothing." He uncrossed his arms, and his blond hair, tapered but smooth, came just below his chin, covering his slightly pointed ears.
"You're lucky they let us set up shop here, considering how late we were in applying for booth space," the shorter man commented, his red moustache quivering as he grunted at a sudden thought. "Seeing your little 'splurge' yesterday, we're going to have to get some serious funds together."
The blond-headed man sighed impatiently. "Oh, do be quiet about that. I have assured you, it will be no problem. I have money stashed; you know I am prepared for anything." A serving-woman passed by with a tray of light liquors, and his friend took a champagne glass.
"Would you like one?" he asked his refined companion.
The tall man waved a slender hand at the offer. "No, best to do without."
"But what harm can it do?"
Again, he denied the offer. "A world," he answered, "if you have a record for becoming overly driven in the presence of any type liquor."
"Any type liquor?" He chuckled brashly. "Like women?"
The other man stroked his goatee thoughtfully. "You can make that comparison, if you so choose."
The stout man laughed as he brought the glass to his lips. "Yeah, that's what you meant, all right." He downed half the glass, then said, "And you are certainly driven. Though, I could have no clue who you gave that's what you meant, all right." He downed half the glass, then said, "And you are certainly driven. Though, I could have no clue who you gave that big bunch of--"
A hand came forth to silence him. The great doors to the dining hall began to open, and the crowd gushed in. "Dinner's begun. Please, let's not speak anymore of it. You know I am already anxious because of it, and you only make it worse with your constant nagging."
"Pardon me, Your Highness," his friend replied sarcastically as he scratched his copper hair in confusion at the other man's behavior.
The blond-headed man merely gazed at him irritably with intense, green eyes.
* * *
Sarah had finally found Sage amidst the mass of bodies, and managed to get past all of the little cliques without much conversation. There was no time to speak with him, but she gave him a knowing smile, to which he replied by slipping his arm about hers. The elf was only as high as her shoulder, and she could not make out if he was grinning, or not. Once they had reached the head of the crowd, Sarah bid the servants open the doors. Everyone entered in an orderly fashion and stood behind their respective seats, the ones at the front of the room being reserved for Sarah, Sage, Damion, Hoggle, Ludo, Sir Didymus, and the kings and queens of the visiting realms. Sarah noticed that one other seat had been reserved to her left, but the table bore no name card. She wondered how such an obvious mistake could have been made.
While the guests were coming to order, Sarah turned to Sage and said, "It's a pity Leah could not be here. I was hoping she wouldn't have to miss this."
Sage nodded in sober affirmation. "You are right... I miss her presence."
"Why is there not a card here?" she asked off-handishly.
The elf's brow wrinkled in thought. "I honestly do not know... Maybe it was a mistake."
Sarah frowned uncertainly, but did not let it worry her. "Perhaps."
The dining hall was dimly lit, as the ballroom, and it gave a somber, hushed, and opulent air to the feast. A painting of Sarah was high on the wall above her head; it was the same painting that Jareth had once owned, and depicted Sarah at 15, wearing the Cinderella-like gown that she had also worn while dancing with him in the mystical realm of his crystals. It was a remarkable piece of work, and Sarah had been hesitant to rid of it, even though she was wary of keeping any reminders of Jareth in the castle. She had decided to put the value of art above the value of bitterness, and had never regretted her decision.
Upon the table there were culinary delights galore: chicken, fish, and steaks, cooked in every way imaginable; corn, peas, vegetable stews, and fresh salads; creamy clam chowders and steaming broths with rice; cider, wine, champagne, grape juice, cream, brew, punch, and spirits; noodle casseroles, lasagne, and meaty pies; merangue pies with strawberry relish, dripping fudge brownies, flaky pastries filled with creme, towering angel cakes and oozing apple pies; and every fruit custard known to man. The food smells mingled with the perfumes and colognes, and made Sarah suddenly dizzy with anticipation.
The large group came to order, and Sarah clinked her fork against a champagne glass. Murmers ceased as the queen prepared to make her speech.
Sarah gave everyone a sweeping glance and gracious smile before beginning. "Guests....friends..... I'd like to welcome you to my castle during this very special fortnight. Tomorrow will be the fourth anniversary of the first day that began this kingdom's independence. As you probably already know by now, that was the first day of the journey that the former king, Jareth sent me on the journey that brought me knowledge of a special talisman and gave me the opportunity to free the city of its curse. I do not hold myself responsible for this city's freedom; the heavens willed it that my presence should prove useful-- I did not plan such a thing on my own."
Sage put his hand on her arm and laughed. "Oh, she is so modest!" The guests replied with a reverberating chuckle.
Sarah smiled at her elfin companion, then replied, "Well, say what you like, but I am being honest." Her face darkened a moment in sadness, and she finally continued, "I would like to take this opportunity to make a few comments. Perhaps this is not the time or place, but I feel it is relevant." She clasped her hands together before her. "Four years ago I did battle with Jareth, the Goblin King. During that time I was very uncertain of my opinion of him; at times I despised him, at others I pitied him. Strangely enough, I find myself thinking now that, if I had never encountered him, I would never have arrived here. This is my true home, and it has been waiting here for several years without my knowledge. Jareth offered me my hopes and dreams many years ago... and I got them. Yesterday, the possibility of his death was brought to my knowledge. I found myself wondering what he would be doing if he were not." Sarah began to realize that she was going off the main subject. There was more on her mind than she planned to reveal, but she was unconsciously laying out her complete thoughts. It was unprofessional, not to mention the fact that Jareth might even be there that very moment! Ha! What a thought! Of course, he was most likely dead, as Benedick had said. Her little jokes of irony to herself were a bit more unsettling than she wished them to be sometimes. "Well, to make a long story short, I have, after nine years of seething dislike, forgiven Jareth for his crimes. Something tells me that I must... In his own odd way, Jareth brought something new into all of our lives... My main point in revealing this is such: I will fight any danger to our kingdom to death, if need be, whether it is raging fires or Goblin Kings. But, I can forgive. Up until now, there have been a few kingdoms denied entrance into our treaties... Henceforth, despite their former actions, I open my doors to them. This will not be a kingdom of bias, even if it is a bias caused by an instinctive need to protect the kingdom. My arms are wide open to everyone, and I want it to eventually be the same all over the Underground."
Her speech received great applause. All eyes gazed reverently upon her and upon her kindness. An Irish-looking man rose his glass and exclaimed, "A toast to Her Majesty, the queen!!"
Every creature raised their glass and answered, "Hear, hear!" before sipping their wine. Sarah joined them, then motioned for everyone to be seated. Noise once again echoed throughout the hall as conversation and eating began. Out of the corner of her eye, Sarah caught Sage glancing nervously at the clock, and then at the empty seat at the table. He was up to something, she was sure of it.
"That was a marvelous speech," Sage commented as he placed his napkin in his lap. "It was also wonderful that you put your feelings out in the open; many people were wondering your opinion on each matter you discussed. Just make sure you are still careful when opening your arms to everyone; some will take advantage of your kindness."
Sarah swallowed a bit of her salad before answering, "Yes, I know what you mean. It is hard for me to be wise about decisions and still be idealistic. It's a very difficult balance."
"You are not expected to balance it completely; only the yen and the yang are equal in weight. You will learn a healthy balance... And there are people who care deeply about your success, to help make your falls softer and your successes more grand. You are truly lucky; there are not many rulers with those blessings."
Sarah put her hand upon Sage's. "Yes, you are right... And you have been so kind to me." She winked at him. "Maybe too kind."
He smiled at her. "What do you mean, dear Sarah? You could not possibly know about my surprise yet."
Sarah laughed. "Haha! I knew it was you!"
Suddenly Sage appeared confused. "You knew it was me? Doing what? I have not revealed my surprise yet... My surprise is a little late."
With an exaggerated motion, Sarah shook an accusing finger at the elf. "Don't play coy with me. I know it was you."
"Honestly, Sarah, I do not know what you are talking about."
Sarah analyzed him and realized he was telling the truth. "You didn't put all of those flowers in my room? If it wasn't you, then who was it?"
"Flowers?"
Taking a sip of her wine, Sarah soon replied, "Yes, I came to my room for a nap, and found my room filled with vases of flowers. There were flower petals all over my bed, as if someone were wooing me."
"Wooing you? I wonder how they got in without being seen."
Sarah frowned. "Yes, it does trouble me."
Abruptly, a knowing look came across Sage's countenance. "Well, of all the-- "
"What is it?"
He quickly gained his composure and replied, "Oh, nothing."
"You can't do that to me!"
He winked at her and said, "Ah, but I can. And I must... it will be more fun this way, you shall see."
"It will be fun for you. It is torture for me."
"There will be something soon to occupy your mind."
Sarah gave him a sidelong glance. "Would it have anything to do with that empty chair?"
"Ah, but you are too smart for me!!" Sage chuckled, then took a swig of his wine. "My dear Sarah, I am almost sorry it was not I who put those flowers in your room! Your intelligence and charm are worth the wooing."
She took his hands between hers. "You are the charmer, old friend."
* * *
"You are quite the fool, Granen," the blond-headed man said irritably to his Irish friend. "You have had too much to drink. Your brain is one great sponge, and soaks up any liquor as if it were sea-water."
Granen gave him a heedless grin and nudged him. "No harm'n gettin' the pos'tive attentions of th'queen. I rather like'er."
His companion put down his eating utensils and faced Granen with frowning concentration. "You do not even know her."
"I know all I need to know," the man replied boldly. "She's perty, and she's got good etiquette. That makes a real woman'n my part'o the country."
"Well, I daresay, it takes much more than that to make a real woman. And twice that to make a good queen." The gentleman peered into the distance with a pondering expression. "You would be more respected by women if you showed them respect for something other than their beauty or social charms."
"Oh, and you're to talk!" Granen exclaimed in a loud whisper. "What women have you got to prove yer point? Not one! And I haven't seen you with one yet! Not one in the three years you'n I have gone a'travelin' together."
"I am saving myself for the right woman."
Granen grunted. "Sure, as if'n you gone 'round lookin' for'er."
"I have already found her."
A surprised look took grip of the Irishman's features. "Where?"
"She's close by." His eyes drifted to the end of the table.
Granen nearly spit out his food in his mirth. "The Queen? Hah! You're a fine joker!! As if'n she'd give you the time'o day!"
He put the tips of his fingers together thoughtfully and leaned forward. "One can hope, my friend... One can hope."
* * *
Sir Dydimus looked up from his concentrated shoveling of food and declared, "Your Majesty, this is the finest meal I hath eaten in all of my royal feasts. I commend your chefs."
"Thank you, Sir," Sarah answered with a nod of her head.
A grunt came from Hoggle's direction. "As if you've been to a million feasts."
"Why, I would have you know, my brother, I have been to twenty-nine such feasts!" Sir Didymus replied, unaffected. "The last I attended was in my honour!"
A disbelieving, yet interested look took ahold of Hoggle's features. "Whad'you do?"
The fox seemed pleased to have the opportunity to tell a tale. "It was a Fiery feast... Though, they are quite a trying lot, but they are also quite amiable. One of them lost his head, and I helped him to find it, seeing that I am a knight of the old code. The ordeal was quite perilous, surprisingly enough, and I only found his head after hours of searching. There ist no need to describe his joy over my discovery; they had quite a tearful reunion. The good fellows threw me a feast for my effort."
Benedick spoke up, twitching his whiskers in a sarcastic smirk. "You say he lost his head? Fieries are quite known for that, and in more than one sense, I assure you!"
The Dwarven Queen, Delina, nudged him and reproachingly whispered, "My dear feline, there are Fiery guests here; I wouldn't speak so loud, if I were you."
"Oh, c'mon, Delina... I meant nothing harmful by it!" Benedick laughed heartily. "It's not as if we felines don't have our little quirks. Hourly bathing, insatiable milk cravings..."
"Hairballs," Sage mumbled under his breath.
Benedick pointed an accusing finger at the elf, his claw protracting in the movement. "I heard that, Sage!" He shook his finger at him a few times before picking up his fork again to cut his fish. "Well, we felines don't have that blasted millenium life-span that you elves are famous for... I mean, really, you being about to nag people for a thousand years!! You must be the king of nuisances!"
Sage chuckled and replied, "Yes, you are correct." With a stiff lip, he looked down at his food and mumbled, "But, then again, I don't go hacking away in the middle of a meal." Benedick had not caught the comment, but everyone else who was in the area had. While the cat continued his meal in an air of forced silence, Sage dropped his fork and began coughing. Sarah looked up with a startled expression, but did not fret when she realized what Sage was doing. The elf began hacking and hacking, as if he were trying to get something dislodged from his throat, yet it was apparent that he was not choking, for he was smiling broadly, and making exaggerated motions. Benedick looked up from his plate and Sarah tried not to spit out her food in her strangled laughter. Sage sobered up for a moment, gripping his neck, and said in a throaty voice,"Please forgive me, I can't quite get it out..."
"What are you about, Sage?" Benedick asked with a raised eyebrow as the table broke out in riotous laughter.
Delina controlled herself long enough to exclaim, "And at a royal feast! You should be ashamed of yourself, Sage!!"
Finally Sage seemed to have coughed the object out into his hand, and he took a swig of wine. "I am so sorry," he said with an almost sincere look of apology. "I guess we elves are too subject to hairballs."
Sarah fell back into her chair, very unqueenly, but very much amused. "Oh, Sage, you are the absolute devil!"
Benedick looked on with a dumfounded expression, as if he had been utterly fooled by Sage's act and felt like dunce because of it. "Let me see what you have in your hand, elf!"
Sage looked down into his hand, then looked up at Benedick. "I assure you, it is not very pleasant, my feline friend."
Benedick gave him a sardonic grin. "I have seen plenty a hairball, I assure you."
"Very well, then, you may have it!" Sage then tossed the object across the room, and the cat caught it with a swift motion.
The cat looked up at Sage with a wrinkled brow upon his examination of the thing. "Very funny!"
"Come, let us see it!" Delina urged as the feline covered it with his hand.
Grudgingly, the cat held up the object. It was a pendant with a painted image of Benedick on it. "Are you trying to say that I am a hairball, Sage?" Benedick asked in a good-natured tone.
"Never, Benedick my feline friend." Sage gave the cat a lopsided grin. "You just look like one."
"Very well, then, Sage. You'll get what's coming to you."
"Hopefully not another hairball... Those things are gastly."
With an air of superiority, the cat replied, "I will ignore you now, and continue my meal." He turned to face Sarah and smiled. "Your Majesty, this is the best smoked herring I've had in ages! And the milk is so sweet! You certainly do know how to throw a party."
"Well, that's one thing I did right during high school." Sarah chuckled to herself before continuing. "I always dreamt that I would one day be in a big production called a Boradway play. I would then have the biggest cast party afterward. I threw many parties during high school for, what I called, practice." Again, she laughed. "I was a big dreamer back then."
"Oh, c'mon missy," Hoggle said. "You still dream, dontcha?"
"Well, I don't want to be one to look the gift horse in the mouth," Sarah said sheepishly, "but, when you have everything you could ever wish for, there's not much dreaming left to do. I kind of have more practical goals now. My dreams are to make this kingdom successful and to bring unity to the Underground... Dreams that aren't really for myself. I'm not saying that I don't cherish those dreams in the same way as ones for myself, just that my outlook on life has changed."
Ludo looked up from his slow concentrated eating. With a cocked head he said, "Sarah-- need dreams."
"Yes, fair maiden," Didymus added. "Everyone needs dreams."
"Well, maybe I've still got a lot to learn," Sarah answered. "I just don't have many dreams at this moment. Perhaps I'm still adjusting to--"
"BOY! What a turnout!!"
Everyone in the room jerked their heads to see the source of the exclamation. In front of the double doors that led into the dining hall stood an almost identical replica of Sarah, wearing her hair in a pony-tail while sneakers protruded from beneath her purple taffeta dress of simple design. She bent over to pull off her tennis shoe and replaced it with a pump. "Sorry I'm late."
"Leah!" Sarah exclaimed as she jumped out of her chair and went to hug her twin. The surprise of seeing Leah was almost as great as when she had discovered her within Shadow Mountain four years ago. She already had a world of things to tell her, and was sure that her "shadow" had a few adventures from Aboveground to share, as well. She took a moment to examine the woman up-close. Leah's had apparently died her hair a reddish-brown, and had cut it so that it was chin-length. Her counterpart was well-groomed and decidedly pretty, but still had an air of boyishness about her. That's good-old Leah for you, she thought as a smile widened on her face. Count on her to come to a royal feast in sneakers.
Sarah took Leah by the hand and led her to the front of the room. "Everyone, may I have your attention?!" A warm, tingling happiness welled up inside of Sarah with this new pleasant arrival to her day. The room was quickly empty of the murmering voices as the guests looked up from their meal. "This is Leah, my former shadow and best friend. If it were not for her, I probably would not be here today!"
"Is it truly milady Leah?" Sir Didymus asked as he rose from his seat and approached Sarah's twin. He grasped her hand delicately and laid a kiss upon it. "I am very honoured to once again be in your presence." He looked up at Sarah and added, "If 'twere not for milady, we should not ever have been free of the Shadow Mountains."
"Yeah, lucky for me I found her before Jareth's shadow came to plague her. That would have been a misfortune!" Leah exclaimed with a laugh.
Some of the guests chuckled at this remark, while Sage said, "Come, have a seat, Leah, and join us in our meal."
* * *
The blond-headed man dropped his fork and put his hand to his head, as if in pain. Granen dropped his own fork and put his hand on his companion's shoulder. "What's th'matter, lad? What's troublin' you? Not ill, are ye?"
"No, Granen, not physically," the man replied, sighing heavily. "I ache within...for the pain I have caused everyone else." He put his napkin down and looked up purposefully at the ceiling. "I have many preparations to make... There is so much still left to atone for, and so little time."
"What be ya speakin' of, lad? I don't quite follow ye." A surprised expression took ahold of his features as the blond-headed man took a swig of the wine that sat before him. "You must really be disturbed, if ya be drinkin' liquor. Come, tell me. You know you can trust me... "
"No, Granen," the man replied, stroking his goatee thoughtfully. "I do not wish to share it yet. I must leave, now." He rose from the table and pushed back his chair. "There is much to be done." Leaving his friend behind with his jaw agape in wonder, the man went toward the doors that led into the dining hall. He turned around and gazed somerbly at the queen. "My dearest Sarah..." he whispered to himself. "I promise that no harm shall come to you, now or ever again. Even if I must die."