Chapter 3, The Trick
To Sarah's surprise, the first leg of the journey lasted quite some time, some several odd hours she imagined; though, eventually, it was decided to stop and set up camp for the remainder of the night. Lochlan had hitched the horses, started a fire and, again much to Sarah's surprise, suspicion, and likewise comfort, had provided her with a sleeping mat and blanket for her convenience -things she hadn't even thought of.
"I hope tonight's accommodations aren't too rugged for your liking," he said, shaking out his own mat and laying it gently on the ground opposite the fire. Sarah sat cross-legged as she watched him.
"No, this is fine. Although I've never slept outside before -without a tent I mean."
"Oh, don't fret. Only a few spiders will spin webs in your ears." He smiled as he spoke, which had Sarah smiling in return. For only knowing him a few hours, she thought she might actually like this Lochlan. He seemed so normal...compared to the other fae she'd met.
"God, I hope not," she chuckled, eyeing him curiously as he set a pot atop the fire, and then watched him in silence for a few minutes as he poured in some kind of stew to be reheated.
"I hope you don't think me rude, but I shan't offer you some," he said, which caught her off guard.
"Huh?"
"The food. It would be unwise for you to share in it. I do hope you remembered to pack provisions?" She blinked at him a bit confusedly, then turned to rummage through her backpack. She was in fact starting to get hungry by that point and pulled out one of her sandwiches.
"Um, yeah, I remembered…" she said, her voice tapering off a bit. She didn't find what he'd said to be rude necessarily, but it was kind of odd. Perhaps he could sense the skepticism on the end of her tongue, for he stopped what he was doing and peered up to her. Her eyes were looking away as she took a large bite of her sandwich.
"I would also urge you to keep as much for yourself as possible."
"Oh?" she asked, taking another big bite. Lochlan raised a brow at her.
"Yes...whatever it is you packed in that bag, don't forget it has to last you four or five days."
And then Sarah's jaw stopped mid-chew.
"Um...I mean...We're going to an outpost right? Won't they have food there?" she asked, trying not to sound too worried as she thought over the 2 sandwiches and 3 apples she still had left…
"Yes, but just as with this here, it is imperative that you don't eat any of it," he said, with a dry seriousness that had her feeling even more alarmed.
"What? Why?" she asked, highly considering simply putting the remainder of her sandwich away. A spark popped loudly as Lochlan shifted a log, and the gradual waft of his stew soon followed.
"Well, you see, for whatever reason, once you ingest food grown in our world you may never again return to yours," he said, plainly. Sarah's mouth dropped open a little. "Did you not know? Hm, I thought it to be common knowledge by now."
"Wh...but…"
"So, like I told you before, if The Prince were to reject you and I were to fulfill my promise to return you Aboveground, it would be wholly impossible should you ingest any amount of food from here. Hence why I urged you to pack plenty of your own."
"But...But I have eaten food from here before."
Now it was Lochlan's turn to look surprised. He lowered his ladle into the pot.
"Really? What was it?" he asked, far too intrigued for her to be comforted. She lowered her sandwich and clung to it like a safeguard.
"Um, a peach. I ate one of those and...I obviously returned home just fine."
Lochlan stared at her, blinking repeatedly, and then a shadow of dismissal moved across his face.
"Impossible," he stated, with an unwavering stare. Sarah was about to rebut him but he continued. "What you ingested, whatever it was, was something other than natural. After you ate it, did anything happen?" he asked, and Sarah gaped.
"Um ...yeah. Some really weird...trippy...spell stuff happened...I guess." Honestly? She was too embarrassed to say anything more than that. She looked away and the darkness of the night hid her shame.
"Hm, well then, that's your answer. It was spelled, or rather, it was a spell. If it were an actual fruit grown in this realm there would have been no way, with magic or otherwise, for you to return home. Therefore...I can only imagine it was a form of conduit, like a crystal only a different shape and texture. Yes, that makes sense."
Sarah's brow furrowed hard and her eyes lowered to the ground. Lochlan had resumed the preparation of his meal, pouring out some of the stew into a wooden bowl.
"Hm...maybe…Well, you would know more about it than me," she said, accepting this revelation with a sense of worry.
"May I ask what happened?" Sarah blinked up to find him staring at her. She didn't respond right away, so he continued. "During the spell, I mean." Sarah's nails tightened into her sandwich just slightly.
"Um...to be honest I'd rather not talk about it…" she said, and to such a sad expression did Lochlan find himself tilting his head.
"No matter. It was simple curiosity. Are you warm enough?" he asked, again shifting direction. Sarah took a deep breath and looked toward the moon.
"Yes. It's actually a pretty warm night."
"Indeed, I fancy the new season far better than the last."
Sarah looked over to him, intrigued by his statement, to find him now rummaging through one of his satchels. In a way his normalcy felt surreal. This man behaved so casually towards her, and yet they were in a literal twilight zone.
"Um, Lochlan?" she asked and he peered over. "What can you tell me about this prince?"
"A fair amount I suppose. I have been his retainer for many years."
"Well...what is he like? His personality," she asked. Her expression was open, perhaps letting down her guard for just a moment. If she hadn't, she would have caught the glimmer in his eye and the unnerving flash of a smirk.
"He…" he started, and his mouth steadily spread into a grin. "He is unlike most. He is old, and young, lively but...pensive. He can behave quite rashly at times, and yet at others far too calculating. I won't hide it from you, he can have quite the temper. Though it is my hope that your presence will dissuade him from it."
Sarah worried her brow and gave in to put away the rest of her sandwich. She didn't like that description very much. Lochlan on the other hand, felt no hesitation and was already making short work of his own meal.
"Um...go on?"
Lochlan saw the unease building within her and he shrugged to himself as he turned towards the fire. Oh, how to put this…
"Well, he was once very cheerful, carefree even-"
"Once?"
"Yes...He is very work-oriented now. He...is a researcher of sorts, ever striving to hone his magic. On that note, he is also very powerful...very powerful."
"I see...what do you mean he is both young and old?" she asked.
"He is temperamental, often childlike in his fickleness it seems to me. I suppose...to me I see it as glimpses of his former self breaking through that soured current disposition of his. Ever the optimist I try to be. I would quite like for more of it really. I've known him to be fine company. Though lately his spirits have seemed to age beyond his years. It's made the castle quite dreary. You have a nice spark however; I'm sure you'll liven the place up in no time."
He spoke with the sense of optimism he'd just mentioned, as if registering none of the warning signs Sarah was already fretting against. Her posture was starting to grow tense. To her, he wasn't painting his prince a very flattering portrait.
"What does he do for fun?" she asked, trying to lighten her worry. Lochlan didn't pick up on her anxiety this time and prattled on.
"Currently? I'm not entirely sure," he said, with a light chuckle. Now that had Sarah's expression gaping. "I'm not often privy to how he spends his personal time. He keeps himself isolated usually. Although...I do spy him taking walks around the grounds. He's very nature-oriented as well. Always testing its limits. In the past, however, he did a great many things. I'm sure he still enjoys them, he simply does not allow himself to enjoy them." Contrary to Lachlan's ease, Sarah's brow only knitted further.
"Why? You make it sound like he's...in the midst of depression or something," she asked. Again, Lochlan chuckled.
"Oh, I suppose you're quite right. Though forgive me, he is not as melancholy as I seem to have described. It is his work, you see. It is very important to him and requires a great deal of focus. What I should have said is he views other such activities as distraction."
"Charming," Sarah said, sarcastically almost. Lochlan peered over with a sly eye.
"Would you like to know some other things? Perhaps more familiar to you?" he asked. By now she'd slumped forward with her chin resting in the palm of her hand. She looked at him and raised a brow. "He likes games," he said, leaning in slightly as if it were a secret. "For being such a royal grump, he has quite the mischievous side. Well, I suppose you could say the same for many of my kind."
"It seems like you're describing two completely different people," she said. Lochlan shrugged.
"I suppose...in a way I am. People who live as long as we do are allowed to develop rather complex personalities. Though, I think you'll have a better understanding once you meet with him."
"Hm...What's his name?"
"Oh, I cannot tell you that."
"Why?"
"As you've learned, a name is a very powerful thing. If given to the wrong person it could be used against us. It is very poor manners for a fae to reveal another's name. He must offer it to you himself." Sarah pondered that a moment. It made sense in a way. Simply saying Lochlan's name had summoned him directly from another dimension, which had her wondering what other, perhaps nefarious, things could also be done with it.
"...Oh. Okay," was all she chose to say, and instead shifted directions. "Well...can you tell me what he looks like?" Lochlan smiled again.
"Yes. Though, I doubt my rendition would do him justice. You already know what he looks like."
Sarah drew back subconsciously, her chin slowly rising from the palm of her hand
"How…?"
"Well, simply put, I do believe you've met." Lochlan was looking at the fire and she knew it was on purpose. He didn't want to meet her in the eye and she had a grave, sinking feeling as to why.
"Wha...what are you talking about?"
"I thought my depiction would reveal it to you more delicately, though I've seemed to do no justice there either. Perhaps he was cruel to you? Or, better yet, kind?" He was shrugging his shoulders, almost as if he was talking to himself rather than her. His tone was completely candid while Sarah was fighting a shiver from running down her spine. She sat up straight and glared straight at him.
"Please...please tell me...for the love of God, tell me the man you want me to marry isn't Jareth."
Lochlan peered up with a furrowed brow.
"You know his name?"
Sarah was quiet for a moment, perhaps shocked, though deep down she knew she really shouldn't be. A surge of emotion, possibly panic or fear, came as a torrent bubbling upward from the pit of her stomach.
"Y-you're kidding me," she stammered, then lurched forward almost to her feet. "Of course I know his name! You-you liar! You said you weren't here because of what happened before!"
"No...I said not necessarily," Lochlan said, raising a hand to halt her outburst. "His Highness did not send for you. In fact, he has no idea you are to be presented before him. Me choosing you was not solely dependent on your past, though I do think it a beneficial trait." Clearly he thought such rationale would be enough to vacate him of his treachery. Sarah's eyes burned wide.
"Beneficial? You said you don't know the details of what happened-"
"Indeed I do not."
"Well if you did, you'd know there's no way in Hell he'd want to marry me," she said, with a raised voice -something to which Lochlan seemed unaffected.
"In that case, I don't see what the problem is. If he rejects you, then you get to go home. This then is the best possible turn of events for you, wouldn't you say?"
"Yes but-"
"If you're concerned he may seek some form of retribution, don't be. You will have The King's protection," he assured her, which only had Sarah shaking her head in distress.
"Well- what if-what if he says yes!?" she cried out. Lochlan shrugged.
"Then you will be wed. That is the bargain you agreed to."
Somehow, perhaps in response to Lochlan's words or not, Sarah felt some of the fire leave her spirits and she calmed down. She was silent for a moment as she collected herself, and then shook her head again.
"But...I thought Jareth was a king? The King of Goblins…" This didn't make any sense. It was too much. And yet, did it really matter?
"Hmm...a king? Is that what you were asking about earlier? Forgive me for the misunderstanding, but no. Perhaps those creatures granted him that title some years ago; but alas, in the eyes of our own kind, he is but a prince. I did mention he lords over a principality, no? That is the place you visited," he explained. Sarah stared down at the ground.
"The Goblin Kingdom?"
"Is that what they're calling it? Heavens, how unimaginative. Yes I suppose it is. It's real name however is not that."
Sarah just kept shaking her head.
"What? What is it called then?" she asked, as if that question, in comparison to any other, mattered at all. Lochlan tilted his head and pursed his lips.
"Hm...I'm not sure it has an official name," he said, his eyes roaming vacantly between the flames. "However, it is on the Isle of Faengsel. Perhaps we should call it that."
Sarah rolled back to sit on her butt, and huffed. Lochlan's unwavering sense of nonchalance was having its desired effect. She too stared into the fire, her residual tension lulling into worried hands that curled in the dirt at her sides.
"This is insane," she mumbled. Lochlan peered over at her discreetly. She looked bemused.
"Quite possibly."
He was nervous of how she would react once learning the identity of her intended. And while she was quite clearly unnerved, he was relieved and grateful she had not panicked, had not run away screaming. He had half-expected that. Jareth had let her go and she was less than traumatized from the experience. It had him wondering what exactly had gone on between the two.
"So, tomorrow I have to meet Jareth's father? And after that I have to stand in front of Jareth himself and effectively ask him to marry me?" she asked, beside herself. This was ludicrous. There was no way he would say yes to her. Why the hell would he? She wanted to be hopeful, to assure herself that by the week's end she'd be back in her own world rejoicing with her family. She was, however, not so naive. Lochlan had promised The King's protection...but what did that really mean?
"Precisely." With a deep rooted scowl, Sarah zipped up her backpack in a rough gesture. "Are you not going to eat?" he asked. Sarah scoffed, cracking a disingenuous smirk as she did so.
"I've pretty much lost my appetite, frankly. That's probably for the best anyway. I didn't pack enough food to last five days," she explained, reaching instead for a bottle of water. She'd packed three of those...was it not safe to drink anything in the Underground either?
"I see. Forgive me if I did not make myself clear before."
Sarah shrugged, waving him off as she took another swig.
"Hey, what's done is done. Right?" She put the cap back on the bottle and tucked it into its holster on the side of her backpack. "So that's the reason then? The real reason you came to me? Jareth doesn't want to get married and you figured you'd take a long shot on a human he once tormented? Did you think our sense of familiarity would make a difference?" she asked. Lochlan blinked.
"Well, yes, actually," he admitted. Sarah laughed again, a weak sound, stifled behind consternation.
"Well, I could have shed some light on this vastly ill-conceived plan of yours. We have no familiarity. We did not meet or part on friendly terms. I doubt he'll have any interest in me, if he even remembers me at all," she said. Though, contrarily, such words only had the corners of Lochlan's mouth curling.
"I disagree," he said, earning back her stare with a baited sense of amusement. "I've done a bit of research, you see. To be honest, you were not as easy to locate as I may have suggested."
"Research? What research? You said you could sense I was fae-touched. But, if Jareth doesn't know about you playing match maker for us, how did you even know we have a shared past in the first place?"
"Your name," Lochlan said, and tilted his head at her. He did that a lot, she noted. It was playful, though she got the sense it was a mannerism more nefarious than what let on. "I told you there is power in them. The rest was easy once I found yours..." he added, vaguely. Sarah watched him sternly. "Do you remember this?" Her eyes flickered down to his hand as it reached for something inside his coat pocket. Her eyes widened at what he revealed.
"Wha-where did you get that?" she asked. Lochlan let his grin show fully and flipped through the pages of the small red book.
"Where all discarded trinkets go when they are lost," he said, absently, fanning the pages as he pretended to read.
"I...I threw that out years ago," Sarah muttered, deeply shaken by the sudden appearance of this token from her past. It was because of that book that she even had the idea to wish Toby away. It was dangerous. Frightening. She'd tried to destroy it and prevent anyone else from making the same mistake she had. However, this book was magic and would not be so easily smote. It would not burn. Would not tear. Would not dissolve in water. In the end she merely threw it in the trash. She wanted it as far away from her person as possible.
"Yes...It was sheer luck then, really," he said, a pensive look calming his face as he thought back on the endeavor. "You see, when objects are lost and forgotten in your world, they have a pesky habit of appearing in ours. Did you happen to glimpse the junkyard when last you were here?" he asked. She nodded. Glimpse? She'd gotten more than a glimpse… "Well, such things exist in abundance across this realm. There is simply no helping it. Your people are vastly frivolous and wasteful things. Always polluting our world with your candid disregard...However, in this instance I am thankful. Had you not disposed of this book, I may never have found it and thus learned your true identity."
"But...my name isn't in that book. The protagonist is never named," she said, confused.
"Ah, but do you remember this?" he asked, and opened the back cover and held it out for her to see. "I do believe this is your name, no? Written by hand?" And then Sarah remembered. She'd written her name in the margin in case she'd lost it at school. She never thought a menial detail like that would generate such pivotal consequences. She lowered her eyes and scowled in deep contemplation.
"If you have that book then you obviously know the finer details of what happened between us. The story was fairly specific. Though how, I have no idea." she said, falling into a sense of detachment from all the troubled feelings still churning about her brain. That book was like a portent. It foretold almost everything that would happen to her in the Underground. Only, during those magical thirteen hours, it was like she'd forgotten, like she'd been in a daze…
"No idea? Why it's part of the game," he said. Sarah looked back.
"Excuse me?" Lochlan shrugged and looked at her impassively.
"I told you, His Highness enjoys games. Plaguing maze runners is one of his favorites. This book is meant to be a lure. It changes its story for every participant. See?" he said, holding out the book and flipping through its pages. Sarah's eyes widened when she realized it was now blank. "I've told you, I have no idea of the details that rendered your time here. All I knew was that your name is written in this book and you are touched by magic. The rest was sheer inference."
"But, how did it know what would happen? I don't get it…"
"That is the trick, isn't it? This trinket here...it is a very precarious thing. And His Highness...is also a very precarious thing. It has a way of bending time. The story you read, the story you were surely enthralled by, was in fact the story of your own future. That is the manner of magic that lured you in. And that was the key to your escape. Was it not?" Lochlan asked, and Sarah pondered. She'd never thought about it like that. Suddenly, the words of The Wiseman came back to her, "the way forward is sometimes the way back". The end was the beginning. The only reason she'd been able to escape Jareth, to her understanding, was because she'd broken through that daze and remembered the last line of the book. "You have no power over me." Was that really it? The trick, as Lochlan said? The key to her victory had been placed in her hands from the start, and it was put there...by the very man who was supposed to be the villain.
"You seem to know an awful lot about this," she said, defensively. Lochlan rolled his eyes and glanced away.
"I told you, I've been His Highness's retainer for many years. I've learned his tendencies." He spoke dismissively and placed the book in his satchel. Sarah observed quietly with pursed lips. He did not at all seem worried about this marriage, but she knew better than to allow herself to fall into a false sense of security. Lochlan had said his master was fickle, mischievous, prone to anger. He also said he was very powerful, and was, apparently, entitled enough to refuse any and all worthy fae ladies posed at his father's behest. She didn't know if she could handle such a person. She had no idea what her future held in store.
But what no one knew was that the King of the Goblins had fallen in love with the girl and given her certain powers…. Wait. What?
Suddenly roused from her musing, she straightened up and her eyes widened. No. That definitely was not true. It couldn't be. That little detail was surely just there...to entice her. Right?
This new look of alarm went unnoticed however, as Lochlan began to pack away his cookware. Any question she may have posed fell dead in her throat when he turned to look at her. It was better that way, she assured herself. She had enough to contend with as it was.
"If you have any more questions, feel free to ask. But I do advise getting as much sleep tonight as possible. We'll be heading out at first light. Now that I know you are ill-prepared for the journey, I'd like to shave as much time off our schedule as possible."
"Oh. Okay. Thanks…"
She watched him as he tossed his bag a few feet away and sprawled out along his sleep mat. He lay on his back with his arms extended behind his head. Apparently, it was bedtime. Sarah sat in silence for a moment. She felt awkward. There were still a million questions on her mind. In the end, she mirrored Lochlan by curling down on her mat and covered herself with a blanket. She had the next 4 days to question him after all and, now that he'd mentioned it, she was in fact feeling tired.
She closed her eyes and tried to relax, though it was near impossible. She was actively pursuing a marriage with Jareth. JARETH. It was surreal. It was too much. It was absolutely, unequivocally, insane.
The next morning came gradually. Sarah was surprised with how well she slept despite feeling unguarded and perturbed on bare ground. However, the morning sun was warm, its light diffused between the canopy leaves, and the distant sounds of birds were a gentle alarm that had her eyes fluttering open with leisure. She thought for a moment about how wonderful it would be to wake in such a way every morning.
Lochlan was already up. She spied him standing away with his back to her as he packed the saddlebags of his horse. The fire was reduced to a stream of smoke, and the smell of it, of the earthiness of the ground, and the morning dew that speckled the grass, created an aroma more provocative than a freshly brewed cup of coffee. She inhaled deeply and sat up, realizing the forest looked vastly different in daylight.
The foliage was lighter colored, not quite green, more of a blue with a hum of white. The trees were tall and thin, their leaves held high above them while vines of the same blue hue hung low in the space between. There was a mist blending it all together in a way that was legitimately otherworldly. She stood to her feet and brushed some dirt from her clothes.
"Ah, you're awake. Good," Lochlan said and turned to face her. "Take a moment to eat, if you'd like. Then I'd like for us to get going."
"Alright…" she said, still feeling a little groggy. Would she ever have coffee again? Did such a thing exist in the Underground?
She ran a hand through her hair and took a deep breath. The air was so much crisper here and filled her lungs more fully. It revitalized her in a sense. Was it just the natural air, or this place itself? She stretched a bit and gave in to take another couple bites of her sandwich. Four or five days...Three apples and two point five sandwiches. ...oh and a bag of chips. Let's not forget about the chips. She could make it last. She didn't have a choice.
She grabbed her backpack and sauntered over to 'her' horse. Not wanting to make herself a damsel again, she confidently took hold of the saddle and rooted her foot in the stirrup, then hoisted herself up and swung over her leg. She hoped Lochlan wasn't watching. She'd nearly fallen off in the process. However, the horse was patient and she found her balance. She patted its neck in thanks.
Its reins were tethered to the back of Lochlan's saddle. He glanced at her briefly, and then mounted his horse.
"You learn fast," he said, though she couldn't tell if he'd meant it sincerely. "That's good. You'll need that here," he added. Sarah narrowed her eyes at his cryptic tone, but decided not to play into it.
"Yes, well, it's only a horse."
The journey to the outpost was peaceful. The trail was narrow but well-groomed, and the horses were perfectly well behaved. Lochlan had said they would be traveling most of the day, but if they moved fast enough he was hopeful they'd reach the fort before nightfall rather than the following morning. Every few hours they would stop to let the horses rest and to stretch their own legs, and Sarah quickly realized just how precious a commodity toilet paper was. Sneaking off to pee in the bushes felt undignified, but there wasn't exactly any other choice.
She'd also taken the opportunity to probe Lochlan for as much knowledge as possible. He was much more forward than she had expected, and took full advantage of it. She'd learned that Jareth's father was the king of the very powerful country of Erewhon in the Underground. This country bordered the Eastern Sea, which was where Faengsel Isle (A.K.A. The Goblin Kingdom) was located -not too far off the coast. She said she found this surprising, as her memory of the Goblin Kingdom painted it a vast desert. Lochlan had confirmed this, and merely added that Faengsel was a fairly large island.
She had also asked why Jareth held a principality off the main continent, but Lochlan's response was altogether vague; simply saying it was the place his father had assigned him while he pursued his studies. She'd asked why Jareth was an only child, why The King was putting the pressure of succession on him providing an heir rather than him providing Jareth with a sibling. Lochlan was noticeably caught off guard by this question, and had even gone so far as to glance back at her before responding. He was amazed at how thorough she was being, how attentive and perceptive she was of details she could have only gleamed from between the lines. This worried him a bit...unsure of what would be in her best interest -blissful ignorance, or full disclosure.
"He has tried," Lochlan admitted, careful of the words he chose. "The Queen is...well...she is considered unfit to bear children." Sarah frowned, but kept quiet as he continued. "It is rumored that she suffered many miscarriages in her youth. His Highness's birth was considered a blessing from the gods. She has subsequently suffered many more miscarriages and stillbirths. I have heard that due to the emotional toll, Her Majesty no longer wishes to have children. I believe His Majesty respects that."
"Oh, I see…" Sarah said. She couldn't imagine living through that. Being as old as they were, she couldn't even fathom the number Lochlan was referring to by the term 'many'. He had told her The King and Queen were several thousands of years old. How many times had they suffered the loss of an unborn child? How many times had they rejoiced, allowed themselves to feel excitement and love for something only to have that life snuffed and taken before it even began? An emotional toll indeed.
And then there was Jareth. Their only son. Their pride. And for some reason, they were now desperate enough to marry him off to a human peasant.
"Yes...I would urge tact when you meet with His Majesty. Please do not refer to any of this," Lochlan said, distracting her from her dour thoughts. She blinked up and stared at the back of his head. His hair was pure black, curled and crimped, cut short in the back but the rest was long and tousled in a perfectly messy quaff. She found herself wondering what sorts of hair products he used.
"I understand."
"Oh, do you hear that? I think we're getting close," he said, and Sarah followed his gaze when it turned to the right. He was staring through the trees, though all she saw was more forest.
"Hear what?" she asked, then listened. She heard the clop of the horses, the rustle of branches in the breeze and… "Are those...waves?" Lochlan glanced back with a smile.
"Yes. We're nearing the coast. I believe it is just over this ridge. Which means we should be arriving at our destination presently."
"Thank God," Sarah muttered. Her hips were aching from riding this damn horse all day. The sun was waning in the sky, so she assumed it was well into the evening. She was getting hungry again, but after finishing off her first sandwich, she declared she would not touch another until the following day. To distract herself from the rumbles of her stomach, she tried to listen to the sound of the waves. She'd never been to the ocean before. She'd only seen it in pictures and films. She wondered if it would look any different in the Underground.
It was about another twenty minutes before they reached their venue. The trail grew wider and curved, bringing them closer to the beach. The forest thinned and finally she caught sight of a tall watchtower looming above the canopy. They came into a clearing and were greeted by a wooden barricade standing a good twenty feet tall. The tops of the logs were sharpened into spikes, and two covered lookouts stood just beyond it on either side of the main gate. There were large, heavily detailed banners waving in the breeze. She tried, but couldn't get a good look at their imagery.
The horses came to a stop, Sarah's moving to stand in-line with Lochlan's. There were a pair of guards standing by, fully dressed in heavy leather armour, and wielded ceremonial glaives. Sarah noticed a familiar-looking symbol painted on their regalia. Similar to the pendant she remembered Jareth had worn. Lochlan nodded to them, and wordlessly they opened the gate. Sarah said nothing. Clearly their arrival had been anticipated.
Lochlan urged his horse forward and they began to trot side by side into the courtyard. Sarah glanced around. He had told her this place was a military encampment and he had not lied. She saw squadrons of fae soldiers marching in time, other's dueling and practicing archery. The air smelled of dust, hay, and smoke. She heard the pang of a hammer on anvil and was, once again, cast into a world and a time she'd only ever read about. She saw more banners erected on poles that lined the dirt road they traveled on. They alternated between black and purple, and featured a very intricate coat of arms. She saw two winged creatures bracing a shield and holding a pair of swords in their talons. The shield was decorated in a variety of patterns and colors, and a crown was placed atop it. As they passed by, she made a mental note to ask Lochlan what it all meant.
Beyond the courtyard was a large, heavily fortified structure. It stretched long, with a stable on either end. It was made of wood, dark wood, that did not match the surrounding forest. From the center of this building stretched the watchtower she had previously seen. It was very tall. She had no idea how many stories, but she had to cock her head back just to glimpse the top of it. By now they had made it to the main doors, and Lochlan was dismounting his horse.
He patted the steed on its shoulder and turned to offer her a hand. She took it readily, having already learned how difficult it was for her to dismount on her own. He caught her by the waist as he helped her down, and then turned his attention to the building.
"Well, this is it. Southern Outpost 3-7-1."
Sarah quirked a brow at him.
"Really? That's it's name?" She found herself scoffing. Lochlan grinned and glanced back up the tower.
"Indeed. Shall we settle ourselves in? It isn't quite eight yet. I'm sure you'd enjoy a nice hot bath and feathered bedding after all that riding." And to that Sarah felt relief. A hot bath. Yes. A thousand times yes.
"Absolutely."
The door to the garrison was opened for them by yet another pair of leather-clad soldiers. Sarah found them interesting to look at. She'd never seen so many fae before. Their armour was beautifully embroidered, though worn and clearly well-used. Their hair was unexpected, either cut short or tied back in tight braids. She left her eyes unguarded, and inspected them brazenly. None of them looked at her as she passed by. Not a single one. And she gathered, aside from their pointed ears, that they really didn't look much different from humans.
They entered the main hall and were immediately greeted by a well-dressed figure descending the stairs in front of them.
"Ah, My Lord. You've arrived. I say, we were not expecting you until morning," the man said. He was tall, well-built, wearing loose, plated armour that was more or less for show. He wore a deep red cloak, and displayed bright gold accents that glinted from his spaulders and boots. He held out his hands to them, a smile lain on his face.
"Yes. We are, fortunately, slightly ahead of schedule." Lochlan dipped his head in acknowledgement and glanced at Sarah. "This is General Fostad. He is the head of military operations in this area," he explained, to which Sarah nodded in kind. She looked to the General, who was now standing directly before them, and bowed awkwardly.
"Pleasure to meet you," she said. Fostad grinned, amused, and placed his hands on his hips.
"And you must be the mortal we've been hearing rumors about," he said, then leaned forward to twirl a hand as he bowed emphatically before her. She wasn't expecting that. She just kind of blinked.
"Um...yes. My name is Sarah," she said, suspicious of the fact that apparently there were rumors being spread about her. Fostad straightened and kept his attention on her.
"That's not your real name, I hope?" he asked, overtly deriding her. Sarah furrowed her brow and then immediately realized her error. Lochlan had introduced him as Fostad, but he had also said it was taboo to reveal another fae's name. Clearly, Fostad was not this person's real name. Damn. Perhaps she should come up with her own pseudonym, and quick.
"She's still learning our ways," Lochlan spoke for her, deflecting from her impending panic and stealing Fostad's attention. "She'll catch on in time." Playing off the issue with a smile, Fostad smiled in return and glanced over his shoulder as he snapped his fingers. Immediately, two young women appeared from around the corner and quickly stood at his side.
"I've no doubt," Fostad said, and glanced down at the girls. They were young, in their mid-teens maybe. Or at least, that's how old they looked. They were each a dark blonde with natural curls, and wore similar gowns of muted pink satin. "These are my daughters. They'll be attending you for the duration of your stay here," he said, speaking to Sarah. Sarah peered from him to the girls, who then bowed to her in succession. Well that was uncalled for, she thought. They were most definitely of a higher station than her.
"I see. You are most gracious," she said, accepting his hospitality with deference and a dip of the head. Lochlan smiled and watched from the corner of his eye. Nuance aside, she was a natural.
"It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss. Would you please allow us to show you to your room?" they asked, speaking in tandem. That threw her off immediately, but Sarah kept her expression from reflecting it, lest she insult them. She opened her mouth to speak but could only look to Lochlan for a cue.
"By all means," he said, as if she needed his permission. "Tonight you may relax. Tomorrow you will meet with His Majesty, and after that we will depart for Faengsel." He turned to the women then. "Please make sure she is properly prepared for His Majesty's council," he said and they both nodded. After that, he turned and threw an arm around the General. "Well then, shall we leave the ladies to it?" he asked, and the two of them stepped away. Sarah stared in silence for a moment. He was really leaving her on her own? Why did she feel so dependent on him? She turned back to the girls and smiled politely. They were just staring at her as if she had seven heads, and she wondered if they'd ever even seen a human before.
"So...lead the way?"
The sisters, yet unnamed, led her up the central staircase. They rose several floors, and took her to a wing they assured was both "safe" and "private". The room assigned to her was small, though still bigger than her own back home. There were two windows, several sconces on the wall, and a fireplace. However, this did little to aid in the lighting situation. Everything was made from the same dark wood; and the setting sun, along with all the other sources of luminescence, emitted the deep golden light of a natural flame. Her eyes had yet to adjust to the ambiance it created. She'd forgotten there was no such thing as electricity, let alone fluorescent lighting, in the Underground.
"Please, make yourself comfortable," one of the sisters said. Sarah glanced over as they stepped around her deeper into the room. It seemed they had a task at hand but Sarah was feeling a bit absent-minded. She turned around full circle and set her backpack down on the end of the bed. It was nice. The room was nice. She wondered, briefly, what the rooms in Jareth's castle looked like.
"Are you ready to undress?"
Sarah peered over sharply. The girls were standing together, staring at her again. She hadn't realized how close they were.
"Um...why?" she asked, warily. The girls blinked repeatedly.
"So that we may bathe you," they said. Now it was Sarah's turn to look dumb. She drew back and scowled.
"Excuse me? I can bathe myself, thank you," she said, but the girls didn't budge. Their looks only worried, and they frowned.
"But...Lord Leche bade us to prepare you for His Majesty...we must make sure you are thoroughly cleansed."
Sarah scowled in confusion at the name Leche, but immediately realized that must be Lochlan's false title. She groaned internally then. These girls seemed earnest. She didn't want to upset them. Of course she would need to be 'properly' bathed. What, would they try to anoint her with oils next?
"Fine. Can I at least have some privacy while I get in the tub?" she asked. The girls exchanged glances and then turned to her with a nod. Apparently even that was considered unusual. Sarah rolled her eyes discreetly and left to what she assumed was the bathroom. She could hear the faucet running and, upon entering, was immensely relieved to see they did in fact engage in modern plumbing. The tub was average size, free-standing, and made of heavy ceramic. It stood in the middle of the room, a steady veil of steam rising from beneath its brim.
She undressed and lowered herself into it.
As if they had been waiting with their ears pressed to the door, just as Sarah's elbows hit the water, the door opened and the two women came shuffling in.
Sarah sat awkwardly with her knees drawn up to her chest. There was something in the water coloring it opaque and milky. She was glad for that.
The girls each knelt down beside her on either side of the tub. Each reached for an arm and held it out as they gently scrubbed her with a sponge.
"So...you live here then? In the garrison?" Sarah asked, feeling a dire need to break the awkwardness with small talk. The girls peered up and nodded.
"Yes. For now."
It fell quiet again. Sarah gritted her teeth.
"Do you know anything about why I'm here?" she asked. They'd finished with her arms, and one moved behind her to work on her back while the other reached into the water and pulled out a foot. Geez. They weren't exactly making this easy for her.
"You're here to meet with His Majesty," one said.
"Do you know why?"
"No." And neither did they seem particularly interested. Their attention, entirely, was on washing her. She watched the one as she inspected her foot, as if unsure if it was good enough. She then felt the other reach below, before pouring a cascade of water over her hair. Sarah's eyes lowered to the ripples moving across the water. Maybe she should just shut up and let them do their job.
"You're from the Aboveground, right?"
She was surprised when the girl behind her spoke. There was a faint sense of intrigue that betrayed their otherwise apathetic demeanors. Sarah shifted uncomfortably as the other released her right foot in exchange for the left.
"Yes...I am."
Maybe it was the quiet of the room, maybe it was just Sarah; either way, it seemed what followed was a silence perturbed.
"We've never met someone from the other world. Is it as awful as they say?"
Now that had Sarah peering back with a quizzical look. The girl behind her, who had been massaging shampoo of some sort through Sarah's hair, held her hands suspended as if caught off guard by the brazen eye-contact.
"Awful? They say it's awful?" Sarah asked. The girl scowled, her lips pursed in a frown. Taking pity, Sarah broke from her gaze and turned back around. "It's not awful. Not at all. It's just different. A very different place from here." And to that she could feel the girl relax behind her. Sarah thought maybe the girl was afraid she had offended her, but she just wasn't sure how to gauge them. She had no idea of their social nuances.
She was drawn from her thoughts when a hand suddenly traveled, very daringly, up the length of her thigh.
"Whoa. Hey. I can do that myself, thank you," Sarah said sharply, and lurched forward before the girl and her sponge could make contact with a place they had no business being. The girl looked surprised, and sat back. Sarah took the sponge from her and raised a hand in sign of appeasement. "Seriously. I got it from here." She looked skeptical, but in the end did not push the matter. Instead, she stood and started tidying up. The girl at her back began to wash the soap from her hair, running lithe fingers through the sodden tendrils in a manner that Sarah found very comforting.
"We've laid out a nightgown. In the morning we will come to dress you. Would you like us to bring you dinner before we go?" Their question was innocent enough, though it had Sarah stifling a scowl. She did not want to be thinking about food right now. It reminded her that she was starving.
"No, thank you," she said, wringing out excess water from her hair as she spoke. The women stood and stepped away, though Sarah glanced over when she noticed they were not leaving. She saw them standing again, in that eerie way of theirs, and stared at her expectantly. "Um...is there something else?"
"When you're ready, we'd like to dry you," they said. Sarah blanched. She'd done well enough to maintain her modesty throughout that awkward-ass bath, but that seemed a naught effort if they insisted on drying her. Really?
"That is unnecessary," she said, hoping that would be the end of it. It wasn't.
"But it is, Miss. We must inspect your figure for any impurity."
Of course they did. Sarah rolled her eyes and shook her head subtly. But then again, maybe it was her behavior that was out of line. She was, after all, meeting with a king. A very prominent, non-human, magical king, who's blessing she was meant to secure before proposing marriage to his son. His son who was Jareth. Jesus. She never, in all her days, imagined she would ever find herself in such a position. Feeling exasperated, she sighed and grumbled an internal fuck it as she stood, unabashedly, from the tub.
Sarah awoke the next morning feeling even more refreshed than the previous, which led her to suspect there was indeed something in the air here. She'd never been a morning person, and yet for the second time she'd woken naturally, and readily, by the rise of the sun.
It was cold. The heat had been stolen from her room by the night air, and so she bundled herself in blankets as she stoked life back into the fire. She was so hungry she couldn't stand it, and had given in to eating an apple and over half a sandwich. She knew she would regret that, but she couldn't help it. She now had 2 apples and 1.3 sandwiches. According to Lochlan, they still had over two days to go. Fuck.
She brushed out her hair as she sat on the floor beside the fire. She wondered how her father was doing, whether or not he would get to go home soon. She wondered how happy Karen was feeling. How big Toby's smile had been...
It was only a few moments later that she was drawn from her thoughts, without surprise, by a gentle knock that came at the door. She turned and looked, though remained seated, as the two sisters entered the room.
They found her location immediately, and both sets of brows drew tight when they saw her wrapped in a ball on the floor.
"Miss, are you alright?" they asked. Sarah shifted in her spot but only held the blanket tighter.
"Yes. Sorry, I'm just cold. I'm not used to not having central heat," she explained, knowing as the words came out of her mouth that they would have no idea what she was talking about. She staggered to her feet and approached them. They closed the door behind them carefully, as if they feared anyone walking by might see her in such a state. Sarah almost laughed.
"It does tend to get a bit drafty in the tower. Did you sleep well?" one asked, the one who had asked her questions the previous night. The other said nothing and moved to the other side of the room to pull out what Sarah supposed was to be the day's attire.
"Yes. I slept great actually," she said, giving in to release her blankets and then draped them over the bed. She felt immediately frigid without them, and curled her bare toes in response. She was wearing a nightgown, white, with a highly-unprecedented amount of lace trim. It was bulky in some areas while much too risque in others. She kept her opinions to herself however. If she'd gathered anything from her time in Underground, it was that the fae had a very distinct sense of fashion.
"Are you hungry? Would you like something to eat?"
Well shit. They were just so damned hospitable. Why did they have to keep bringing up food?
"No, thank you. I've already eaten," she said, placing a hand subconsciously over her stomach as if to smother a reflexive growl. Starving herself for a day or two would be worth it if she got to go home in the end. She just had to keep reminding herself of that.
"Here, I think this will do nicely," said the other sister, who had now returned from the armoire with a shiny, satin gown in tow. It was long-sleeved, a rich, burnt sienna color with gold and slate embroidery around the bust and wrists. Not something she would have picked for herself but, as she inspected its flaccid form lying in the girl's arms, she decided it looked fine and clearly these women knew better on the matter. "Shall we help you get dressed then?"
Much to Sarah's chagrin, the women were just as involved in getting Sarah dressed as they had been in drying her off with the towel. She was given no undergarments, only a loose-fitted, sleeveless cotton slip. This greatly unnerved her, and she was ever-so-grateful to have minded to pack at least twenty pairs of underwear. As she thought over this, she realized how stupid she was. What did that say about her priorities? She'd remembered to pack all the undergarments she owned and yet had only bothered with a day's worth of food? As the girls fitted her dress in place, Sarah found herself shaking her own head in beratement. She was clearly not at all prepared for this.
They'd tightened the strings at her back and moved on to paint her face. Sarah was a little surprised at first. She'd never had someone else do her make-up for her. Even still, once again, she found herself complying wordlessly as they dotted powder about her cheeks and flicked her lashes with mascara. Well that was another relief...Apparently they had modern forms of make-up as well.
They were putting away their supplies when another knock came at the door. Sarah, having sat down on the edge of the bed, stood as she looked over to it.
"Um, come in?" she said, skeptically. She wasn't sure who else she was expecting, but it was obviously Lochlan. He opened the door and shut it gently behind him. When his eyes landed on her, he smiled. Broadly.
"Wow," he said, a little stunned. Sarah wasn't sure whether such a reaction was truly a compliment. He stepped closer to her and his eyes lowered. "You look rather lovely."
Sarah pursed her lips and mulled over her response.
"For a human anyway," she said, with vague sarcasm. Lochlan's eyes glanced up and his smile curled with amusement.
"Indeed." He knew she was irritated, being primped like a doll the way she was, but he couldn't help but leave her unsatisfied. He sensed a fiery temper in her as well, and a sense of pride that would become invaluable to her. He'd rather she save it for her fiance'.
"So now that I'm looking decent, when will we be meeting The King?" she asked. Lochlan raised his brow and glanced back at the door reflexively.
"Actually, that's why I've come to you. He's just arrived. And he's asked for you, presently."
Sarah's reaction to this news was delayed by the squirming of her attendants, who immediately started shuffling up their belongings in their arms and made a quick dash for the door. Sarah watched this with worry. It seemed they now had other, more important, duties to attend to. She caught Lochlan smiling after them as they bowed and left. This time, the door hung open.
"Where are they off to?" she asked. Lochlan shrugged.
"They are the Ladies of the house, and The King is upon their doorstep. I imagine they have a bit of panicking to do." Lochlan looked amused but Sarah was feeling anything but. Maybe panic was the appropriate feeling to have. Before she could delve into such thoughts too deeply, he turned to her and offered a hand. "Well? Shall we then?"
Lochlan led her down the hall back to the stairwell. They went up, many floors, to a point where the tops of trees could no longer be seen from the windows. She was getting nervous. She had no idea how she was supposed to act.
"So...are you going to brief me on what I'm supposed to be doing?" she asked. Lochlan peered downward on reflex. He was a great deal taller than her.
"There is not much for you to do. His Majesty knows who and what you are. So long as you are respectful, I see no reason to force a pretense." He spoke plainly but Sarah was only biting her cheek. She already knew this man was not going to like her. His acceptance, to whatever degree, was a transparent act of desperation. She couldn't imagine his pride would respond well to that. If he was anything like his son, at least.
"If you say so…"
They arrived outside of a large door. Without warning, Lochlan knocked thrice and then opened it. He ushered Sarah in, who was now fighting the instinct to backpedal.
The room was an office space, perhaps even a drawing room. The walls were lined to the ceiling with books, and an unfinished painting sat upon an easel in the far left corner. Rolled canvases sat atop a table to her right. In front of her was a window, its visage turned white from the light of the morning sun. And in front of it, standing with his back to her, was The King.
She heard Lochlan close the door behind her and she took a tentative step further into the room. The man did not acknowledge them right away. He stood in silence as he stared out the window. Sarah took the moment to observe him.
He was tall, broad-shouldered, and wore a long coat that fell to the knee. It was a dark red, velvet maybe, with black accents. His pants and boots were also black, and his long hair -the same pale blond as Jareth's- was pulled back into an elegant ponytail that draped over his shoulder.
"Good morning, Your Majesty," she heard Lochlan say, a bit too cheerfully, as he joined her at her side. The King turned, and his gaze locked straight onto hers.
He had a chalice in his hand, and she watched as a gloved finger began to tap impatiently against it. Sarah found a rock forming in her throat. He looked like Jareth. Of course he looked like fucking Jareth. He was older, with a more square jaw. But the glint in his eyes? The curve of his nose? That nerve-shattering intensity? It was all the same. He stepped away from the window and looked down his nose at her, then tilted his head as he regarded her appearance.
"So...you are the mortal," he said, with an aloof sense of detachment that had her struggling for bearing. Instinctively, her eyes wanted to dart away. She was, however, able to keep her gaze strong. She forced a semblance of a smile, and bowed before him.
"Yes...It is an honor to meet you, Your Majesty."
For whatever reason, she found her first meeting with Jareth to be far less intimidating. When she had met him, in all his glory, she had felt no compulsion whatsoever to look away. No, she was able to stand tall before him, to hold his stare and speak with a familiarity that really should not have existed. She found that an odd observation to make, now of all times. Perhaps it was her childhood sense of wonder. Regardless, currently she found herself very much nervous in the presence of the actual King.
She heard him huff and she glanced up reflexively.
"Hmph, an honor, is it?" he asked, mockingly. Sarah scowled. He had the same smile as his son as well. Using that to calm her nerves, she straightened her back and looked him square in the eye.
"Yes. Actually," she said, making no effort to hide the slight offense in her voice. "You've done me a great kindness," she added, and watched the way he quirked a brow at her in response.
"Really? I didn't realize you would be so eager to wed my son," he said, which earned from her a brief look of confusion. She shook her head.
"I'm not. Actually, marrying your son is of no particular interest to me," she said, then glanced back at Lochlan. "But Lochlan made me a very generous offer that I was unable to refuse. My father was suffering from a terminal illness. I'm told it was by your magic that he was cured." And that, The King understood. He set his chalice down on the table and crossed his arms over his chest. He was surprised by her frankness. By her audacity to continue looking him in the eye.
"Ah. I see. Your presence here is payment, then, rather than reward."
"Yes. Precisely. I'm here because I am indebted to you. I love my father and my family, and now, because of you, they get to live and prosper together. You have my eternal gratitude for that."
She held her ground when he stepped towards her, when his gait became a prowl she recognized. He now stood much too close to her, and looked down with a sideways grin.
"Lochlan tells me you've known him. That you've run that maze." Sarah swallowed but held firm. If he was trying to intimidate her, she would not confirm it.
"Yes."
"And yet you still agreed to come back?" he asked, his tone implying something of disbelief. Sarah drew her brow tight. Was he underestimating her? Or did he think she was just stupid?
"So it seems."
It was hard not to be annoyed, even harder not to show it. Her sense of sass had gotten her in trouble in the past more than a few times, and she knew from experience she needed to bite her tongue a little harder. His eyes flickered over her, and she noted their color- a rich amber. She wondered if Jareth's eyes came from his mother.
"Hm...He must have been particularly gentle with you," he said, and sneered as he glanced away. "That, or you are an exceptional masochist."
She said nothing in response to his comment, recognizing it as an obvious incitement. The King huffed again, apparently amused by her bravado, and stepped away. His aura shifted, and the tension in the air surrounding them waned. She glanced up to Lochlan for reassurance, and he winked.
"Why do you think my son will choose you?" he asked. He'd taken back his cup and was walking over to the window again. Sarah took another step towards him.
"I don't. You came to me, remember?" The King glanced back shrewdly. Her tone was as hard as her stare. It was unexpected. So, there was a bit of bite to this one, was there?
"Quite." He took a long sip from his drink and peered down into it as he thought. "Do you fancy yourself a princess, Sarah?" he asked, catching her off guard by the mention of her name. She frowned and tried not to fist her hands.
"What? No."
He rolled his head back to her and cocked a brow.
"Good. Because you shan't be one."
"Excuse me?"
He walked over to a table housing decanters of wine and refilled his glass. He was no longer looking at her, his posture dismissive.
"There has never been a human let into my bloodline. I am not exactly keen on the prospect. I may give you an official blessing of your potential marriage to my only son. However, a marriage is all it will be. The authority to coronate you as a member of my royal court resides solely with me."
Sarah felt a new tension churning about her as he said that, a dire detail she hadn't yet considered. What the hell did that mean exactly? Would she not be recognized as Jareth's legitimate wife? Would she not be welcomed by society because of it? What would happen after she bore a child? Would he annul their marriage and forsake her? Sarah's sense of self-preservation was kicking in, though she knew she needed to tread the matter carefully.
"Dearheart, must you be so coarse?"
Sarah's look of worry darted to the left, to the source of the voice that had surprised both her and Lochlan. It was a woman, a very lithe, very tired looking woman. She had been sitting in the back corner of the room, apparently fit to observe until now. She stood, and Sarah took the moment to regard her as she approached.
She was nearly as tall as The King, certainly much taller than Sarah. She had dark, honey-blonde hair that fell in long symmetric waves. She was thin, perhaps too thin, and there were age lines around her eyes and mouth. She wore a burgundy dress with gold trim, and the make-up around her eyes was smokey and exaggerated. The woman smiled at her as their eyes met and she realized, far too late-
"Oh, Your Majesty. Forgive us, I did not realize you were here." Lochlan spoke and bowed, a gesture Sarah immediately replicated. Sarah's eyes grew wide as she stared at the floor. She was barely prepared to meet Jareth's father, let alone his mother, the two of them, together.
"It was rather last minute," she said, her voice so soft and smooth it had Sarah peering up in disbelief. Lochlan straightened, and so did she. The Queen was looking at Lochlan with something of admiration in her stare. Sarah found that interesting.
"She insisted on being here," The King said, now turned away from the window and staring back at them. Sarah blanched. Feeling Sarah's trepidation, The Queen turned her gentle grin to her.
"Of course. As my dear husband says, we have never welcomed a human into our home before. I simply had to see you for myself," she said, and Sarah stood rigid as she reached out and stroked the hair at the side of her face. She was right. His mother's eyes were blue. Her skin, however, was more tan, and her features were soft and delicate. Still, there was something about her face that held deep recognition to Sarah. Was it her cheekbones? The shape of her mouth? She wasn't sure. "Well, you are pretty. Aren't you?" Sarah blinked and tried not to dart her eyes away.
"Thank you, Your Majesty."
The Queen's eyes raked over her and she began to pace a bit, inspecting her from head to toe.
"How old are you, child?" she asked.
"Um, twenty."
"Twenty? Twenty years?" Sarah blinked and nodded. The Queen's brow rose high, and she smiled. "My, you are just a babe."
"I'm considered fully grown in my species," Sarah explained. This seemed to amuse The Queen, who caught her gaze as a canny little smile curled her lips.
"My son, was he kind to you?" she asked. Sarah mulled that over for a moment and, as she did so, she noticed The King seemed equally interested in her answer.
"Um, well...He could have been worse, I suppose," she said, not wanting to validate any of Jareth's supposed generosity over the whole affair. The King and Queen stared at her as if abashed, like her response made no sense to them, but the look was fleeting on both their faces.
"I see...That is promising then," said The Queen, who now lowered her head as she walked towards her husband to stand at his side.
In a moment of impulse, Sarah took the break in conversation to get back to the matter at hand.
"What assurance do I have of my position in all this?" she asked, earning back the attention of both The King and Queen. He stared at her impassively, but she knew she was close to crossing the line of insolence.
"Assurance?" he repeated. Sarah bit her tongue. There was warning in his tone. Oh well. She inhaled sharply and carried on anyway.
"If you expect me to bear legitimate heirs, surely I must be considered a legitimate wife, equal in recognition to your prince," she said, sternly. Lochlan tensed beside her, but she failed to notice. If this man expected her to accept giving up her life to become little more than a bitch to be pimped out, he had another thing coming. The Queen looked worried, her gaze turning from Sarah back to her husband expectantly.
The King paused for a moment, and then a large, wicked smile spread across his face.
"Equal in recognition, you say? My, the audacity of mortals astounds me," he said, and, to her surprise, he laughed. He ran a tired hand across his face and shook his head, his free arm moving to rest lightly against his wife's back. That reaction did not seem appropriate. Had Sarah been reading him wrong? "Tell me child, what makes you think you deserve to be crowned?" he asked. Sarah bit her lip. He was testing her, surely. She needed to stand her ground.
"Because I am here," she said, narrowing her eyes just slightly. "Because, if your son agrees to marry me, I will have succeeded where so many of your own kind have failed. Lochlan was very clear in describing just how high your son's standards are. I know I have no pedigree to speak of, but at this point, if I prove good enough for him, will that not be good enough for you?" The King was silent, his look on her hardening. The Queen however, seemed to be considering this readily, a mild scowl of contemplation furrowing her brow as she rose a hand to her husband's chest. Sarah bit at her lip once more and looked him straight in the eye. "If what you want is a grandchild, then assuring the safety of my position in your society after said child is born should be considered a minor concession." The confidence she spoke with was false and nearly faltered as she finished speaking. She held The King's gaze, emphasizing that being human did not mean she was something to be trifled with. Despite their prejudice, they needed her and she knew it. She half-expected him to become angry, insulted for her impertinence. However, again, he only laughed. Loudly this time.
Sarah recoiled at the rumble of laughter that resonated deep from his chest. The tension was gone, and it seemed he was greatly amused. His smile turned genuine, and he pinched the bridge of his nose as he glanced away. He set his cup down again and looked back to her with a worn expression.
"Darling, she does have a bit of a point," The Queen said, staring up at him urgently. "Surely it will be well justified. Shall we give her our full blessing?" For some reason Sarah wasn't expecting that, wasn't expecting Jareth's mother to be so favorable towards her. She seemed a gentle creature, good, and hopeful. Together it was a combination perfectly designed to sway the mood of her husband. Sarah remarked on this tiny bit of manipulation immediately. Maybe she wasn't so good after all.
The King huffed, and brought a hand to his hip.
"Very well then," he conceded -adding to Sarah's surprise. "If it is true that you know my son and have still agreed to this union, then I suppose you are more commendable than the majority of my own subjects. If he should accept you, and If you should produce an heir, then, and only then, will I acknowledge you as a daughter in my court. Are we in agreement?"
"Yes," Sarah said, instinctively responding to the challenge. However, she caught herself from saying anything more when his words finally registered. Wait. What the hell did that mean? That she'd met him and still agreed to marry him? Jareth was a jerk, yeah, sure, but he wasn't that bad.
"Good." He began to walk towards her, keeping his hand at his wife's back as he guided her with him. Sarah was nervous, though they continued past her and towards the door. Both she and Lochlan turned to watch. He took hold of the handle and they both glanced back. Lochlan bowed his head readily. "I do wish you the best of luck, child," said his mother. "You're going to need it," said his father.
They left after that. Without another word. Sarah stood, out of body, as she contemplated what in the actual fuck that was supposed to mean. The King, the actual King and Queen of fucking Fairyland were wishing her luck on wooing their son? Was he really that unruly? Had her memory of Jareth been altered? What the fuck was she walking into exactly?
She turned to Lochlan to find him positively beaming.
"Well. I don't think that could have gone any better."
A/N- Oh golly, out of the pan and into the fire? Is it me or is there something suspicious going on? Good luck girl.
I've placed a couple of Easter eggs in this chapter, though I will only tell you about one of them ;) For those who may have picked up on it, "Erewhon" is not my creation. I've commandeered the title from the book 'Erewhon: or, Over the Range' by Samuel Butler. Erewhon is a fictitious country meant to serve as a satirical parallel for the absurdities of Victorian society. It is a ridiculous, confusing place, with backwards rules that don't make sense (sound familiar?). It is also an anagram of the word 'nowhere'. I thought all that was neat and fitting, so I decided to use it as the name of Jareth's true kingdom. It is, however, just a name, and has no other connection to its source material. Anyone who picks out the second Easter egg will gain a HUGE spoiler/clue towards the main plot. Happy hunting.