CHAPTER X: Riddles
The surrounding crowd disappeared and replaced itself with the golden walls that signaled one of the entrances to the labyrinth. It was somewhat ironic to Jareth to be where he was. How many times had he put Sarah through this same maize obstacle course, with its twists and turns, changing terrain, and creatures galore? It was true that everything would someday come around full circle. But the competition that Jareth was participating in was more than a mere contest to him. It was a battle for life and love.
He looked up resolutely from beneath the overhanging hood of his cape. His feet moved steadily forward as he approached the doors. With a gentle push he opened the doors and made his way into the labyrinth, an all too familiar uncertainty creeping in on him. Though he knew he would beat the other competitors due to his advantage of having been the original creator of the labyrinth, he felt unsteady in his quest, wondering again if he were making the right decision in seeking Sarah out. He felt his shadow inching ever closer to Sunset City, and knew his time was little. However, his courage was failing him, keeping him from openly disclosing his presence to Sarah, even in a time of dire emergency. All of these things he thought as he traversed the beginning corridors of the maze. Thirteen hours to think things over a final time. Once thirteen hours had seemed like an eternity... today they were a mere beating of the heart.
After what seemed like an eternity of walking, he came upon a shiny part of the wall that, though seemingly solid, led to another hidden part of the labyrinth. It would have been barely noticeable had it not been for the metal plate that hung next to it. On the plate read: "I am out, but partly at the front of the door. With me at your side, you'll go wrong if I tell you to go right. You deny yourself each time you carry me in your company. In tricky times, I am nothing to worry about. I rhyme with that which comes after your lack of trouble."
"A riddle. Quaint. And should I solve it now, or later?" Jareth mused with a grin. He slipped his arm through the barrier, finding no resistance. "We shall soon see." His robes blended ephemerously into the wall, only to reappear on the other side. Golden hair sparkling in the afternoon sun, Jareth turned his head to the left and right. He was rewarded with the view of yet another unending corridor. Across from him was yet another shiny wall, which undoubtedly led to another hallway. A metal plate hung next to this invisible door, reading, "Build a house of cube-shaped blocks, better than building a house out of rocks... The smaller the house, the smaller the brick, the way the job goes from slow to quick!"
"Cubes..." he mused. "A good thing Master Jeremiah taught me my numbers so well. Perhaps the only thing I did right..." He looked at his surroundings as if looking for cues. Some hanging moss gazed back at him, chittering away. "Well, I suppose I should figure these riddles out before I go on. The other eludes me... But this one I am sure has to do with numbers. A small brick...a small cube perhaps? Maybe a cubed number? What is the smallest number that can be cubed? Eight." He stared absentmindedly at the inscription. "Eight. I know the answer. That leaves me nowhere." He shrugged his shoulders. "Then there is only to go forward..." Once again, he passed through the new opening. Greeted once again by endless corridor on either side, and yet another inscription.
"Keep track of the rings on your fingers, for without them the memory lingers."
"More riddles. And to think that I was once so fond of them." He looked down at his hands, noting without surprise that he wore no rings. But, if he had rings, how would he keep track of them? "Reminding... some people tie strings around their fingers to remind themselves to do certain things... Rings as a reminder? And it does not say to keep track of one ring, but of multiple rings. Perhaps it means to count the rings, or even the fingers? Ah, to count... Eight fingers. So when am I to begin?" As if in response to his question, the inscription morphed into something new: "The end is the beginning, the beginning the end, which brings you right where you stand."
He grinned and shook his head. "Dear Sarah, you are an interesting girl." He pulled his forefinger close to his palm. "This makes one."
Each time he passed through the invisible doorway, he was face to face with a new doorway and a new corridor. He counted each passing off on his fingers, but was beginning to become uncertain as to whether it was wise for him to continue on this particular path, for the inscriptions had ceased to show. Finally he reached his eighth passing, and found another corridor and another door. He stopped to backtrack. "Perhaps I should have made a different move at the last inscription... Or my solution to the riddle was incorrect?" He put his finger to his chin in thought. "I still have not solved the first riddle. Perhaps it is the key to my path?" Jareth gazed thoughtfully into the infinitesimal depths of the corridor. A shifting in the air caught his eye. He let his hand hang at his side as he glided forward. The shifting discontinued as he walked. Perhaps it was just his imagination? He stopped his movement. Barely discernible, the shifting began again, almost like a heat wave on a hot black stone. Yet, as he inched forward, it ceased in its movement. "I doubt it is anything worth noting. I am apparently not on the correct path." As he turned, the shifting became more apparent, but only in his peripheral vision. The first riddle taunted him, as he repeated it quietly to himself: "I am out, but partly at the front of the door. With me at your side, you'll go wrong if I tell you to go right. You deny yourself each time you carry me in your company. In tricky times, I am nothing to worry about. I rhyme with that which comes after your lack of trouble." He shook his head in confusion. "Out, but at the front of the door? I rhyme with that which comes after your lack of trouble? Perhaps these are plays on words. Where does it mention a lack of trouble? Ah, a lack of worry, I see. So it rhymes with that which came after 'worry'. It rhymes with 'about'. It is out, but at the front of the door. What is at the front of the door?" He smiled in self- satisfaction. "The letter "D", of course. And if one listens to it, one could be misguided. The word is "doubt". So, if I listen to my doubts, I shall be steered wrong." He smirked. "Challenging, but not daunting. A few hundred years has given me some wisdom. Then I go forward, as my instincts tell me. I am on the eighth corridor, and, if I do not heed my doubts, I shall be led straight to the castle." He chuckled, a sarcastic grin playing on his lips. "Right." He went forward with determination, passing quickly through a shimmering atmosphere, to be transported to an area of the labyrinth that possessed defined twists and turns. "Ah, here we are. That's more like it."
* * *
Sarah looked on approvingly as her minions continued the celebration with hearty ale and joyful music. She was just getting ready to rise from her throne in order to mingle when Sage approached her hurriedly from the left. His smile stretched somewhat nervously across his face, though his step was calm. "Dear Sarah," he said upon his arrival, "may I please have a word with you in more private chambers?"
Sarah tried to read his gaze, but was certain about the cause of his need for private speech. She acquiesced with a nod of her head and followed him into the castle.
He led her through the hallways of the stone structure and did not stop until he reached the royal advisory chambers. Once she had stepped inside, he closed the door quietly behind himself and slowly turned around. Crossing his arms he asked, "And what was your reason for that scene out there, I should like to know?"
"Of what do you speak?" Sarah asked, shifting her gaze nervously as she turned around to leaf through some insignificant paperwork.
Sage put his hand firmly atop Sarah's as she went to reach for the distraction and adjusted his stance so that he was gazing her in the eye. "Do not play coy with me. Dear Sarah, do you know what you may have just done?"
"By accepting a visitor into our kingdom? I have brought us a new ally!" she declared, thrusting her hands upward. Her mouth was turned down at the side, and it was apparent that she did not believe her own words.
"Perhaps. But it was a very unwise decision, uncharacteristic of you. We have no previous knowledge of this supposed kingdom's existence, and you have accepted him, and, may I add, his entire city, past the city gates, at a time when our army is immobilized due to the celebration and our people are far from prepared for a war! All he has to do is to snap his fingers, and we are forced to cower before him! Though I do not wish to cause needless alarm, I believe this instance is far from needless. I have a suspicion about this man... as though I have met him before... and I do not trust him within ten inches of me. Let alone with his entire city at his side, within our walls, at a time when we are most vulnerable." Sage discontinued his tirade as Sarah plopped listlessly into a nearby chair, a profound sigh escaping her lips. The elf cocked his head to the side and let his arms fall to his waist. "I am sorry for losing my composure so, but this is dire. I really do not understand your decision."
"Neither do I..." She gazed absently at a far wall, saying, "Only that I was completely entranced and enamored with him, and could not resist his presence. My decision confuses even me, for I would not normally allow such a circumstance hinder me from making the proper choice."
It was Sage's turn to sigh. "Well then, what is done is done. We have only to see the results. Meanwhile, I will dispatch a few servants to research this new king, and also tell the army to be on its guard. I doubt that we have anything to worry about," he said with a tone that implied no certainty, "but it does not hurt to be prepared."
"Yes, I believe you are correct. I hope my foolish behavior doesn't blow up in our face."
* * *
Isabelle and Vindar had danced for some time. He was swift and agile, incessantly asking questions as they flew across the cobblestone streets. Never before had she felt so comfortable amongst male company, despite her increased shyness. Sarah's teasing remarks left her uneasy; she could feel the eyes on her and her dancing companion. They all smiled in approval, as if in expectation of some future event; Isabelle was not mentally prepared to concede to the future event their gazes suggested. However, she enjoyed herself immensely, and tried hard not to let her worries get the best of her.
"Isabelle, would you agree to walk awhile with me in the Arbor?" Vindar smiled down at her sweetly, and she felt a chill run down her spine.
"What would people think?" she declared with widening eyes.
"We know what they will think... They shall think what they already think." He led her out of the crowd. "But what does it matter what they think? I was never raised to give precendence to other people's preconceived notions."
"Very well then, if you think there is no harm..." She twirled her black hair between her fingers nervously.
Gently he placed his long hand above her own fidgeting one and coaxed, "Leave your fidgeting, lovely one. Never let your perceived opinions of others hinder your own dreams and wishes. It is the worst injury you could commit upon yourself."
She chuckled warmly, but with agitation. "Already you are fathering me, just as Sage."
"Nay, I do not father you. I advise you as any good friend might. It just happens that my advice is of higher quality than most." He cocked his head to the side and softly led her forth. "Now come, the cool shade beckons."
They strolled past the crowds of people, walking through the square, past the gardens, and into the shady glen that fell just behind some village homes. They were quiet some moments as they delved deeper and deeper into the Arbor, finally coming upon some sitting stones next to a babbling brook. "Ah, here we are," Vindar exclaimed. "Let us have a seat and enjoy the peaceful scenery."
Isabelle sat, crossing her hands in her lap stiffly and gazing into the depths of the forest absently. Soon she began tapping her foot, just enough to notice, never once laying eyes directly upon the handsome Vindar. "So, Isabelle," Vindar said, "how does it feel to know Jareth is alive?"
"I am very happy. I have missed him." She looked away as she spoke. Vindar chuckled warmly. She turned to face him suddenly. "Why are you laughing?"
"Oh, lovely one," he said, only dissipating his mirth slightly. "You are a humorous one. You will not look at me as you speak, almost as if I was your captor. There is no need to be so uncomfortable around me."
"Please, you make me more uncomfortable with your joking," she replied curtly.
"Very well, then." He sobered up and paused a moment before continuing. "So how did you end up with Jareth as your orphan father?"
"Well, it is a long story."
"I do so enjoy stories."
"Very well then, I shall tell it to you." Isabelle smoothed her dress and turned around to face Vindar. "Before I was born, my parents were forced to leave the city, sometime before it became the Goblin City. I do believe that they, too, were only children at the time. They grew up in the same village, and were soon wed. I believe it was a marriage of means, for both families were properous, one thanks to being the leader of a guild, the other due to his crops. Only a year after they were wed, I was born. I remember my mother telling me of her fears of father, for he became very power hungry, and was prone to drinking. The village was falling apart, due to the fact that Jareth continually brought nuisances upon the people, such as burning crops, terrible weather, and other events that, for some reason, he seemed to enjoy immensely. I did not find the truth of the situation until recently. But I shall get to that.
"Well, as it turned out, the constant turmoil from without led to deeper turmoil from within the village. Fights broke out constantly, over property, livestock, anything. It became necessary for the village to split into three parts and go its separate ways. My father, Berkely, was the leader of one of the rebelling groups. Many of those who followed him were of the avaricious sort, their hungers never to be appeased. He was of the same lot as they, but very cunning. They followed him into the valleys of the Shadow Mountains, and there they built a village that had prosperous beginnings. But, their prosperity was not to last. Jareth seemed to lose his interest in the other two villages, and sadly, they came to their deaths due to their own aimless wanderings, for many had never been outside of the city until the migration had come about. However, Jareth did increase his mental torture of the village that I lived in. He was more vicious than he had ever been. His outbursts were sporadic, but, once he did make an appearance, chaos dwelled within our village. During all of these happenings, my father began to lose his power over the villagers. His drinking increased, and he was soon taken over by the man who came to lead our village. A home was built for this man, more splendid than the others... He was trying to recreate a piece of our lost city. But it didn't quite work, for the people had become squandering and dirty. People lost respect for their own humanity. Even as a child I could see it, though I did not understand it. Soon my father gave up fighting against the man, and drowned himself further in liquor to ignore his defeat. He began to beat my mother profusely and called me ugly names, always pulling my hair or chasing me with his belt.
"One day I was outside playing when Jareth appeared to me. I was scared at first and tried to run, but he trapped me. He handed me a beautiful rosebud and begged me not to cry. Once I had calmed, he touched a bruise on my arm and asked if my father had hurt me. I replied that he had, and Jareth asked me if I wanted to go away with him. I conceded apprehensively, and soon became his minion. Within a days time I had transformed into a goblin. I was very frightened, but he lavished many gifts upon me and helped me to lose my fear. Though he was cruel from time to time, it was never toward me. He was nicer to me than even my own mother had been, and I became the most grateful of servants... of daughters.
"However, I never aged... he took me away when I was merely ten, and forever ten I stayed. I remember that time very well... He was very sad, and I soon learned that he had retrieved me only a fortnight after Sarah had made her first journey into the Labyrinth and refused his gift of dreams. I knew that he was terribly in love with her. As you can see, I look very much like her. I believe that he took me in to forget his pain over losing her. His kindness was his own way of distracting himself, of making up for the pain he placed upon her. He told me that he had been watching me for several years and could bear no longer to see me treated as such. I don't believe it was a lie, but had proven to be very true when I compare it to other stories I have heard.
"When Sarah returned and freed us all from the spell that held us captive as goblins, Jareth disappeared. I no longer had him as a father, but placed the utmost trust in Sarah, and soon she helped me to move on with my life and let my pain over the loss of my father fall into the depths of the past. At least, as much as anyone could. I still loved him deeply and longed for his return, as she did. We had discovered my mother soon after her commencement, and it was only a year before my mother died. She was in such physical pain due the abuse she had received from my father. But she was finally able to see me again, and I believe it brought her much peace before her death. Jareth continued to remain in hiding, and his absence caused me to wish to seek out more knowledge of him. I was an avid reader of the histories, and soon discovered that Jareth had inflicted so much pain upon the village that I lived within, partially due to their lowliness. Even he had not seen such a degraded state of humanity, the histories said. However, these feelings seemed only to come in bursts, at certain times that the histories describe as the king's days of brooding. It seems that Jareth only did such things within my village to punish the people for their cruelty. I do believe that initially the disturbances were only meant as entertainment, as a cat will toy with a mouse that has a broken foot."
Isabelle took a deep breath and sighed, shrugging her shoulders. "And here we are. Jareth has returned, and all seems to be well. I hope Sarah shall accept him warmly."
Vindar looked at her somberly. "You have had much sadness in your life, sweet one. I am happy for you that you are surrounded with nothing but good things. You must be very happy as well."
"Now that my father is back, I feel very relieved, like all the puzzle pieces are in place."
There was a sound in the shrubbery, and Vindar turned his head suddenly to find the source. "What?" Isabelle questioned. "Shh," the elf replied as he snuck toward the bushes.
A twittering came from the bushes as they rustled once again. They both listened closely, and two voices became apparent. "Dang you, they were getting close to smoochin'," one exclaimed in a hoarse whisper. Vindar's brow scrunched up in irritation as he reached into the bushes. Two little figures hopped out, saw their pursuer, then ran up a tree, Vindar scurrying behind them. Once they reached the top, one of the little creatures mooned the couple, while the other stuck out his tongue and gave them a raspberry. "You little imps," Vindar exclaimed. "How dare you say such a thing...and look at your manners. Absolutely horrid. Being so rude in front of a lady."
"He's right," the one who had been giving them a raspberry exclaimed as he slapped his pantless cohort on the head. "Put your pants on, Fred. We can make fun of them without resorting to such unnecessary rudeness."
"What are they?" Isabelle asked, looking utterly amazed.
"Gnomes, I believe. And apparently of the nastiest sort." Vindar glared at them after his final statement. He was rewarded with an acorn in between the eyes. "Ooh, just wait until I get my hands on you."
"Now, Vindar, don't resort to being as low as they," Isabelle declared quietly. "They really are rather fascinating fellows." She too was then rewarded with an acorn between the eyes, thanks to Fred. "Okay, that's it my fine fellows," she declared as she hiked up her dress. "I am coming after you for that little prank."
"Now Fred," the other gnome exclaimed, "you really be needin' to learn to control those urges of yers. When will I ever see you sober m'friend?" With that said, he threw an acorn at Vindar, with less precise aim, chuckling all the way. He stopped laughing when Vindar began to climb the tree. "Uh oh. This one's a sprite little elf."
"I am neither a sprite, nor little, you tiny man. And yes, I can climb a tree better than any of your little squirrel friends, so you had better watch out!" Vindar's demeanor had suddenly become playful in nature as he pursued the small men.
"He means business!" Fred slurred. "Let's be gone!"
"Aye, good friend. Gone we are!"
With that, they disappeared in an explosion of light. Vindar squinted past the glow, then, upon seeing that they had disappeared, he came down from the tree, shaking his head and smirking. "Well, that nuisance is gone, for now." He could not contain his laughter. "What fine fellows, indeed. I am certain we shall see them again. Gnomes are known for their selective pranks."
"They were interesting, to say the least," Isabelle commented as she let go of her dress.
"Well then, pretty one, shall we return to the festivities? Let us see where Jareth is in his travels through the Labyrinth."
"Is he competing?" Isabelle said excitedly. "Oh, that is marvelous! He will surely win!"
"Aye, he is. And it is a secret, so keep your lovely lips sealed. We do not wish for word to get out to Sarah." He looped his arm around Isabelle's and led her out of the Arbor. "What an interesting two weeks this is going to prove to be!"
The surrounding crowd disappeared and replaced itself with the golden walls that signaled one of the entrances to the labyrinth. It was somewhat ironic to Jareth to be where he was. How many times had he put Sarah through this same maize obstacle course, with its twists and turns, changing terrain, and creatures galore? It was true that everything would someday come around full circle. But the competition that Jareth was participating in was more than a mere contest to him. It was a battle for life and love.
He looked up resolutely from beneath the overhanging hood of his cape. His feet moved steadily forward as he approached the doors. With a gentle push he opened the doors and made his way into the labyrinth, an all too familiar uncertainty creeping in on him. Though he knew he would beat the other competitors due to his advantage of having been the original creator of the labyrinth, he felt unsteady in his quest, wondering again if he were making the right decision in seeking Sarah out. He felt his shadow inching ever closer to Sunset City, and knew his time was little. However, his courage was failing him, keeping him from openly disclosing his presence to Sarah, even in a time of dire emergency. All of these things he thought as he traversed the beginning corridors of the maze. Thirteen hours to think things over a final time. Once thirteen hours had seemed like an eternity... today they were a mere beating of the heart.
After what seemed like an eternity of walking, he came upon a shiny part of the wall that, though seemingly solid, led to another hidden part of the labyrinth. It would have been barely noticeable had it not been for the metal plate that hung next to it. On the plate read: "I am out, but partly at the front of the door. With me at your side, you'll go wrong if I tell you to go right. You deny yourself each time you carry me in your company. In tricky times, I am nothing to worry about. I rhyme with that which comes after your lack of trouble."
"A riddle. Quaint. And should I solve it now, or later?" Jareth mused with a grin. He slipped his arm through the barrier, finding no resistance. "We shall soon see." His robes blended ephemerously into the wall, only to reappear on the other side. Golden hair sparkling in the afternoon sun, Jareth turned his head to the left and right. He was rewarded with the view of yet another unending corridor. Across from him was yet another shiny wall, which undoubtedly led to another hallway. A metal plate hung next to this invisible door, reading, "Build a house of cube-shaped blocks, better than building a house out of rocks... The smaller the house, the smaller the brick, the way the job goes from slow to quick!"
"Cubes..." he mused. "A good thing Master Jeremiah taught me my numbers so well. Perhaps the only thing I did right..." He looked at his surroundings as if looking for cues. Some hanging moss gazed back at him, chittering away. "Well, I suppose I should figure these riddles out before I go on. The other eludes me... But this one I am sure has to do with numbers. A small brick...a small cube perhaps? Maybe a cubed number? What is the smallest number that can be cubed? Eight." He stared absentmindedly at the inscription. "Eight. I know the answer. That leaves me nowhere." He shrugged his shoulders. "Then there is only to go forward..." Once again, he passed through the new opening. Greeted once again by endless corridor on either side, and yet another inscription.
"Keep track of the rings on your fingers, for without them the memory lingers."
"More riddles. And to think that I was once so fond of them." He looked down at his hands, noting without surprise that he wore no rings. But, if he had rings, how would he keep track of them? "Reminding... some people tie strings around their fingers to remind themselves to do certain things... Rings as a reminder? And it does not say to keep track of one ring, but of multiple rings. Perhaps it means to count the rings, or even the fingers? Ah, to count... Eight fingers. So when am I to begin?" As if in response to his question, the inscription morphed into something new: "The end is the beginning, the beginning the end, which brings you right where you stand."
He grinned and shook his head. "Dear Sarah, you are an interesting girl." He pulled his forefinger close to his palm. "This makes one."
Each time he passed through the invisible doorway, he was face to face with a new doorway and a new corridor. He counted each passing off on his fingers, but was beginning to become uncertain as to whether it was wise for him to continue on this particular path, for the inscriptions had ceased to show. Finally he reached his eighth passing, and found another corridor and another door. He stopped to backtrack. "Perhaps I should have made a different move at the last inscription... Or my solution to the riddle was incorrect?" He put his finger to his chin in thought. "I still have not solved the first riddle. Perhaps it is the key to my path?" Jareth gazed thoughtfully into the infinitesimal depths of the corridor. A shifting in the air caught his eye. He let his hand hang at his side as he glided forward. The shifting discontinued as he walked. Perhaps it was just his imagination? He stopped his movement. Barely discernible, the shifting began again, almost like a heat wave on a hot black stone. Yet, as he inched forward, it ceased in its movement. "I doubt it is anything worth noting. I am apparently not on the correct path." As he turned, the shifting became more apparent, but only in his peripheral vision. The first riddle taunted him, as he repeated it quietly to himself: "I am out, but partly at the front of the door. With me at your side, you'll go wrong if I tell you to go right. You deny yourself each time you carry me in your company. In tricky times, I am nothing to worry about. I rhyme with that which comes after your lack of trouble." He shook his head in confusion. "Out, but at the front of the door? I rhyme with that which comes after your lack of trouble? Perhaps these are plays on words. Where does it mention a lack of trouble? Ah, a lack of worry, I see. So it rhymes with that which came after 'worry'. It rhymes with 'about'. It is out, but at the front of the door. What is at the front of the door?" He smiled in self- satisfaction. "The letter "D", of course. And if one listens to it, one could be misguided. The word is "doubt". So, if I listen to my doubts, I shall be steered wrong." He smirked. "Challenging, but not daunting. A few hundred years has given me some wisdom. Then I go forward, as my instincts tell me. I am on the eighth corridor, and, if I do not heed my doubts, I shall be led straight to the castle." He chuckled, a sarcastic grin playing on his lips. "Right." He went forward with determination, passing quickly through a shimmering atmosphere, to be transported to an area of the labyrinth that possessed defined twists and turns. "Ah, here we are. That's more like it."
* * *
Sarah looked on approvingly as her minions continued the celebration with hearty ale and joyful music. She was just getting ready to rise from her throne in order to mingle when Sage approached her hurriedly from the left. His smile stretched somewhat nervously across his face, though his step was calm. "Dear Sarah," he said upon his arrival, "may I please have a word with you in more private chambers?"
Sarah tried to read his gaze, but was certain about the cause of his need for private speech. She acquiesced with a nod of her head and followed him into the castle.
He led her through the hallways of the stone structure and did not stop until he reached the royal advisory chambers. Once she had stepped inside, he closed the door quietly behind himself and slowly turned around. Crossing his arms he asked, "And what was your reason for that scene out there, I should like to know?"
"Of what do you speak?" Sarah asked, shifting her gaze nervously as she turned around to leaf through some insignificant paperwork.
Sage put his hand firmly atop Sarah's as she went to reach for the distraction and adjusted his stance so that he was gazing her in the eye. "Do not play coy with me. Dear Sarah, do you know what you may have just done?"
"By accepting a visitor into our kingdom? I have brought us a new ally!" she declared, thrusting her hands upward. Her mouth was turned down at the side, and it was apparent that she did not believe her own words.
"Perhaps. But it was a very unwise decision, uncharacteristic of you. We have no previous knowledge of this supposed kingdom's existence, and you have accepted him, and, may I add, his entire city, past the city gates, at a time when our army is immobilized due to the celebration and our people are far from prepared for a war! All he has to do is to snap his fingers, and we are forced to cower before him! Though I do not wish to cause needless alarm, I believe this instance is far from needless. I have a suspicion about this man... as though I have met him before... and I do not trust him within ten inches of me. Let alone with his entire city at his side, within our walls, at a time when we are most vulnerable." Sage discontinued his tirade as Sarah plopped listlessly into a nearby chair, a profound sigh escaping her lips. The elf cocked his head to the side and let his arms fall to his waist. "I am sorry for losing my composure so, but this is dire. I really do not understand your decision."
"Neither do I..." She gazed absently at a far wall, saying, "Only that I was completely entranced and enamored with him, and could not resist his presence. My decision confuses even me, for I would not normally allow such a circumstance hinder me from making the proper choice."
It was Sage's turn to sigh. "Well then, what is done is done. We have only to see the results. Meanwhile, I will dispatch a few servants to research this new king, and also tell the army to be on its guard. I doubt that we have anything to worry about," he said with a tone that implied no certainty, "but it does not hurt to be prepared."
"Yes, I believe you are correct. I hope my foolish behavior doesn't blow up in our face."
* * *
Isabelle and Vindar had danced for some time. He was swift and agile, incessantly asking questions as they flew across the cobblestone streets. Never before had she felt so comfortable amongst male company, despite her increased shyness. Sarah's teasing remarks left her uneasy; she could feel the eyes on her and her dancing companion. They all smiled in approval, as if in expectation of some future event; Isabelle was not mentally prepared to concede to the future event their gazes suggested. However, she enjoyed herself immensely, and tried hard not to let her worries get the best of her.
"Isabelle, would you agree to walk awhile with me in the Arbor?" Vindar smiled down at her sweetly, and she felt a chill run down her spine.
"What would people think?" she declared with widening eyes.
"We know what they will think... They shall think what they already think." He led her out of the crowd. "But what does it matter what they think? I was never raised to give precendence to other people's preconceived notions."
"Very well then, if you think there is no harm..." She twirled her black hair between her fingers nervously.
Gently he placed his long hand above her own fidgeting one and coaxed, "Leave your fidgeting, lovely one. Never let your perceived opinions of others hinder your own dreams and wishes. It is the worst injury you could commit upon yourself."
She chuckled warmly, but with agitation. "Already you are fathering me, just as Sage."
"Nay, I do not father you. I advise you as any good friend might. It just happens that my advice is of higher quality than most." He cocked his head to the side and softly led her forth. "Now come, the cool shade beckons."
They strolled past the crowds of people, walking through the square, past the gardens, and into the shady glen that fell just behind some village homes. They were quiet some moments as they delved deeper and deeper into the Arbor, finally coming upon some sitting stones next to a babbling brook. "Ah, here we are," Vindar exclaimed. "Let us have a seat and enjoy the peaceful scenery."
Isabelle sat, crossing her hands in her lap stiffly and gazing into the depths of the forest absently. Soon she began tapping her foot, just enough to notice, never once laying eyes directly upon the handsome Vindar. "So, Isabelle," Vindar said, "how does it feel to know Jareth is alive?"
"I am very happy. I have missed him." She looked away as she spoke. Vindar chuckled warmly. She turned to face him suddenly. "Why are you laughing?"
"Oh, lovely one," he said, only dissipating his mirth slightly. "You are a humorous one. You will not look at me as you speak, almost as if I was your captor. There is no need to be so uncomfortable around me."
"Please, you make me more uncomfortable with your joking," she replied curtly.
"Very well, then." He sobered up and paused a moment before continuing. "So how did you end up with Jareth as your orphan father?"
"Well, it is a long story."
"I do so enjoy stories."
"Very well then, I shall tell it to you." Isabelle smoothed her dress and turned around to face Vindar. "Before I was born, my parents were forced to leave the city, sometime before it became the Goblin City. I do believe that they, too, were only children at the time. They grew up in the same village, and were soon wed. I believe it was a marriage of means, for both families were properous, one thanks to being the leader of a guild, the other due to his crops. Only a year after they were wed, I was born. I remember my mother telling me of her fears of father, for he became very power hungry, and was prone to drinking. The village was falling apart, due to the fact that Jareth continually brought nuisances upon the people, such as burning crops, terrible weather, and other events that, for some reason, he seemed to enjoy immensely. I did not find the truth of the situation until recently. But I shall get to that.
"Well, as it turned out, the constant turmoil from without led to deeper turmoil from within the village. Fights broke out constantly, over property, livestock, anything. It became necessary for the village to split into three parts and go its separate ways. My father, Berkely, was the leader of one of the rebelling groups. Many of those who followed him were of the avaricious sort, their hungers never to be appeased. He was of the same lot as they, but very cunning. They followed him into the valleys of the Shadow Mountains, and there they built a village that had prosperous beginnings. But, their prosperity was not to last. Jareth seemed to lose his interest in the other two villages, and sadly, they came to their deaths due to their own aimless wanderings, for many had never been outside of the city until the migration had come about. However, Jareth did increase his mental torture of the village that I lived in. He was more vicious than he had ever been. His outbursts were sporadic, but, once he did make an appearance, chaos dwelled within our village. During all of these happenings, my father began to lose his power over the villagers. His drinking increased, and he was soon taken over by the man who came to lead our village. A home was built for this man, more splendid than the others... He was trying to recreate a piece of our lost city. But it didn't quite work, for the people had become squandering and dirty. People lost respect for their own humanity. Even as a child I could see it, though I did not understand it. Soon my father gave up fighting against the man, and drowned himself further in liquor to ignore his defeat. He began to beat my mother profusely and called me ugly names, always pulling my hair or chasing me with his belt.
"One day I was outside playing when Jareth appeared to me. I was scared at first and tried to run, but he trapped me. He handed me a beautiful rosebud and begged me not to cry. Once I had calmed, he touched a bruise on my arm and asked if my father had hurt me. I replied that he had, and Jareth asked me if I wanted to go away with him. I conceded apprehensively, and soon became his minion. Within a days time I had transformed into a goblin. I was very frightened, but he lavished many gifts upon me and helped me to lose my fear. Though he was cruel from time to time, it was never toward me. He was nicer to me than even my own mother had been, and I became the most grateful of servants... of daughters.
"However, I never aged... he took me away when I was merely ten, and forever ten I stayed. I remember that time very well... He was very sad, and I soon learned that he had retrieved me only a fortnight after Sarah had made her first journey into the Labyrinth and refused his gift of dreams. I knew that he was terribly in love with her. As you can see, I look very much like her. I believe that he took me in to forget his pain over losing her. His kindness was his own way of distracting himself, of making up for the pain he placed upon her. He told me that he had been watching me for several years and could bear no longer to see me treated as such. I don't believe it was a lie, but had proven to be very true when I compare it to other stories I have heard.
"When Sarah returned and freed us all from the spell that held us captive as goblins, Jareth disappeared. I no longer had him as a father, but placed the utmost trust in Sarah, and soon she helped me to move on with my life and let my pain over the loss of my father fall into the depths of the past. At least, as much as anyone could. I still loved him deeply and longed for his return, as she did. We had discovered my mother soon after her commencement, and it was only a year before my mother died. She was in such physical pain due the abuse she had received from my father. But she was finally able to see me again, and I believe it brought her much peace before her death. Jareth continued to remain in hiding, and his absence caused me to wish to seek out more knowledge of him. I was an avid reader of the histories, and soon discovered that Jareth had inflicted so much pain upon the village that I lived within, partially due to their lowliness. Even he had not seen such a degraded state of humanity, the histories said. However, these feelings seemed only to come in bursts, at certain times that the histories describe as the king's days of brooding. It seems that Jareth only did such things within my village to punish the people for their cruelty. I do believe that initially the disturbances were only meant as entertainment, as a cat will toy with a mouse that has a broken foot."
Isabelle took a deep breath and sighed, shrugging her shoulders. "And here we are. Jareth has returned, and all seems to be well. I hope Sarah shall accept him warmly."
Vindar looked at her somberly. "You have had much sadness in your life, sweet one. I am happy for you that you are surrounded with nothing but good things. You must be very happy as well."
"Now that my father is back, I feel very relieved, like all the puzzle pieces are in place."
There was a sound in the shrubbery, and Vindar turned his head suddenly to find the source. "What?" Isabelle questioned. "Shh," the elf replied as he snuck toward the bushes.
A twittering came from the bushes as they rustled once again. They both listened closely, and two voices became apparent. "Dang you, they were getting close to smoochin'," one exclaimed in a hoarse whisper. Vindar's brow scrunched up in irritation as he reached into the bushes. Two little figures hopped out, saw their pursuer, then ran up a tree, Vindar scurrying behind them. Once they reached the top, one of the little creatures mooned the couple, while the other stuck out his tongue and gave them a raspberry. "You little imps," Vindar exclaimed. "How dare you say such a thing...and look at your manners. Absolutely horrid. Being so rude in front of a lady."
"He's right," the one who had been giving them a raspberry exclaimed as he slapped his pantless cohort on the head. "Put your pants on, Fred. We can make fun of them without resorting to such unnecessary rudeness."
"What are they?" Isabelle asked, looking utterly amazed.
"Gnomes, I believe. And apparently of the nastiest sort." Vindar glared at them after his final statement. He was rewarded with an acorn in between the eyes. "Ooh, just wait until I get my hands on you."
"Now, Vindar, don't resort to being as low as they," Isabelle declared quietly. "They really are rather fascinating fellows." She too was then rewarded with an acorn between the eyes, thanks to Fred. "Okay, that's it my fine fellows," she declared as she hiked up her dress. "I am coming after you for that little prank."
"Now Fred," the other gnome exclaimed, "you really be needin' to learn to control those urges of yers. When will I ever see you sober m'friend?" With that said, he threw an acorn at Vindar, with less precise aim, chuckling all the way. He stopped laughing when Vindar began to climb the tree. "Uh oh. This one's a sprite little elf."
"I am neither a sprite, nor little, you tiny man. And yes, I can climb a tree better than any of your little squirrel friends, so you had better watch out!" Vindar's demeanor had suddenly become playful in nature as he pursued the small men.
"He means business!" Fred slurred. "Let's be gone!"
"Aye, good friend. Gone we are!"
With that, they disappeared in an explosion of light. Vindar squinted past the glow, then, upon seeing that they had disappeared, he came down from the tree, shaking his head and smirking. "Well, that nuisance is gone, for now." He could not contain his laughter. "What fine fellows, indeed. I am certain we shall see them again. Gnomes are known for their selective pranks."
"They were interesting, to say the least," Isabelle commented as she let go of her dress.
"Well then, pretty one, shall we return to the festivities? Let us see where Jareth is in his travels through the Labyrinth."
"Is he competing?" Isabelle said excitedly. "Oh, that is marvelous! He will surely win!"
"Aye, he is. And it is a secret, so keep your lovely lips sealed. We do not wish for word to get out to Sarah." He looped his arm around Isabelle's and led her out of the Arbor. "What an interesting two weeks this is going to prove to be!"