Another side of the Story: Cruel Facade Chapter Five
A/N: sorry this has taken so incredibly long. It's a short chappie and I'm working on it I promise.
And this is less of a chapter and more of an interlude. again, sorry for the wait. Also i ask you to forgive me for the horrible diction in this chapter. i didnt really re-work it. :-(
Gabryel sat upon a stool in the throne room, teeth biting into his lower lip ever so slightly, giving off the impression of worry. He hoped that his accomplices were getting along out there in the hoards and twisting mazes, guiding Sarah towards the castle. 'And where would Jareth be? Surely the imposter, the bitch of a siren had not hidden the real king somewhere far...no. She'd want him close; close enough to keep an eye on—close enough to torment.'
Gabryel got up subtly, and leaned against a pillar, observing the king who sat upon the throne. He could swear that he saw a faint glow within those mismatched eyes, a glimmer that was corrupt, almost insane—which did not fit the true demeanor of Jareth's character.
Just then, the large bronze doors burst open. A man staggered in, his face was smudged with dirt, and his hair was a royal mess. It was Jareth. His arm was extended, index finger pointed at the imposter on the throne.
Blaise straightend her back and inclined her head so her nose was pointed towards the ceiling so she was looking down upon the real Jareth. 'How the hell did he get out of there? Never mind, it doesn't matter. I won't let him interrupt my plans.'
Rising to her feet, Blaise tapped her scepter on the armrest of the throne, summoning the guards attention, who looked confused and anxious. "Do you see this imposter?" Her voice came out like velvet, fillet with contempt, sound detached and void—just as Jareth's did when addressing people in view of the public eye. The four guards nodded, shifting their feet. "Well? What are you waiting for you insolent fools? Take him away and place him in the dungeon."
"Imposter?" Jareth laughed manically.
Gabryel's brows furrowed and he dragged his eyes across Jareth's figure. 'He's lost it.'
The guards uneasily followed through with their task, taking Jareth by the shoulders hesitantly, and dragging him out of the room.
Gabryel wanted to expose Blaise for the insolent fraud that she was—but refrained. He knew that would only place him within the same confines as Jareth. He could not risk that. He stole a glance at the throne; Blaise was sitting down again, her eyebrows drawn together, her hands fingering the scepter. Was she worried? Did she not think this whole ruse of hers through? She was a fool for certain, but what Gabryel wasn't tempted to test out was how far idle love would drive a woman.