Zalick met with Jareth in a small sitting room full of large overstuffed chairs. The light was dim and the king was leaning against a wall staring into space. Zalick chuckled slightly, for that pose always meant Jareth was preoccupied, but such is the life of a king. At the small sound, Jareth came from his reverie and moved away from the wall, motioning for Zalick to sit. Though exhausted, Zalick stifled a yawn and accepted a glass of wine his liege proffered. Jareth waited and watched in silence until the healer would reveal. It didn't take long before Zalick sat the wine down and took a deep breath.
"Well, the girl is stable now, if not altogether healed." He frowned and rubbed his eyes. "She'll be fine in a while, physically at least." He shrugged his shoulders, "I know you really want to know what makes her so unique, but Jareth…" he paused and took a deep sigh, "Perhaps this is not the time or the place to reveal it." Zalick looked up to see Jareth's reaction, half expecting to see the flames in his eyes. There was nothing there though, just a sort of acceptance. He gave a curt nod, "I didn't really expect you to tell me, and if I'm meant to know I will." A pained expression flitted over his face and then was gone. He looked down to the healer, blue and green eyes filled with sadness, "Something is happening here. I'm not sure what it is, but I do not think she is here on accident. We all have a purpose."
Zalick stood and put a wrinkled hand on Jareth's shoulder, "Perhaps you should get some rest, your Majesty."
Jareth laughed softly. "I probably should, though I doubt it will come this night."
Nodding, Zalick began to limp away, and as an after thought replied, "Try at least."
Jareth only nodded and turned away from the retreating healer and resumed his place on the wall.
Sarah fought to regain consciousness; fought hard and eventually succeeded. She held her breath, expecting the overwhelming pain of her last memories to wash over her, but it never came. Sighing, she slowly opened her eyes and blinked a few times; trying to adjust to the near blackness. Fear crept into her. What if she was in another dungeon? What if they had put her someplace dark to forget about her? A small noise squeaked from her mouth and she swallowed the scream that wanted to follow. She would not panic; she could not panic, not if she wanted to survive in this world. A tear dropped from her eye and she rubbed a hand on her cheek and sat up with less trouble than she expected. Her eyes were able to see the different shapes in the room now, and to try out her sight she moved her hand before her face, nodding as she saw the movement. Carefully, she slid her feet to the floor; goose bumps covering her entire body at the cold touch. Standing there, she did a few tests of her mobility and was surprised and relieved when nothing was sore when she moved. She couldn't exactly explain why, but she was beyond caring. All she wanted to do was find an exit; find an exit and run.
Jareth had sensed her waking, but thought it better to leave her than to approach the girl. Although he wished nothing more than to speak to her; to satisfy his curiosity about her, he wanted to give her privacy. It was an odd sort of sensation for a king and he paused a moment to ponder it. Very rarely did he put the feelings of others before his own wants, and if he did it was usually for a close friend. Two meetings he had with this girl, both times barely seeing her face, or hearing her speak, and yet he was drawn to her. It bothered him immensely. It also bothered him that during his inner ramblings he had walked straight to the room he had been trying to avoid. He stared at the door handle a moment and debated; he even reached for the knob once and then quickly drew his hand away, as if burned from a flame. He felt a growl growing in his throat and he pushed it down. Being angry wouldn't solve anything. He either needed to enter or leave; those were his two choices to make. Neither choice did he chose though; he just stood like a statue for a few moments. Finally deciding that he was being ridiculous, he began to turn away.
The door opened though, throwing him off guard. He was then thrown off balance as a solid form ran into him, knocking them both to the ground. He tried using his hands to regain control, but he felt limbs kicking and hitting at him; desperate to detangle. Jareth somehow managed to get to his knees and moved his head to the side as a white knee swung close to his ear. In two swift movements he saw and caught hold of flashing white wrists and held them tight. The body continued to struggle and Jareth found himself straddling a female body; her green eyes flashing in fear as he held her nude form to the floor. Instantly she stopped fighting, tears flowing down her cheeks, her breath coming in short rasps. She said something rapidly, but Jareth could not catch her words.
He took a deep breath, "Are you alright?" The girl looked up at him, her mouth dropping a little. "If I let you go, will you remain calm?" Again the girl just stared at him. "You do understand me, don't you?" This time the girl nodded, her black hair falling into her face. Jareth released her hands and she instantly clasped them over her bare chest; red coloring her face. He stood and reached down to her. "You shouldn't be out of bed yet, you were hurt badly. Do you remember?" She nodded and curled into a ball on her side in an attempt to shield her body from his sight.
With a sigh, Jareth stepped into the doctor's room and brought out a small blanket, draping it over her form and then forcing her to stand; though she did not fight once she was covered. He led her back into the room and back to the cot from where she had awoken. "Come here, lay back down." She shook her head vehemently and took a step away. Jareth nearly snarled, but his frustration was not directed at her. She was like a small, wounded, animal; beaten and confused and terrified to trust. "What is your name?" The girl made no attempt to answer. "When a king asks your name, you give it; now what is your name?" Though he sounded harsher than he intended, he heard a small breathy "Sarah" from the girl's lips. "Sarah, no one will hurt you now, and you are safe here, but you are not completely healed. Come; sleep, tomorrow we will speak with the healer." With each word he wove a small sleep spell woven into his voice. It called to her, beckoned to her; all she wanted to do was follow that soothing voice into slumber. She barely felt the cot underneath her as her eyes closed; dancing in the embrace of his words.
Jareth watched a few minutes more as the spell he cast took full effect. It was a cheap trick, he admitted that, but the girl…no, Sarah, was not fully well, and he highly doubted his words comforted her enough for her to stay willingly. He frowned and left the room; quietly but securely shutting the door behind him. There was still something about her, something he should know. She was different, there was a different air about her, and though he couldn't pinpoint it the fact remained it was there. At least the healer knew the secret. He would just have to wait and be patient, not two of Jareth's better traits, but he could wait.
The sun had yet to rise over Dorensae, and already Tarrence was awaked by a stealthy presence is his chambers. Yawning and rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he slowly sat up in the bed. He blinked a few times to adjust to the darkness and made out a still form in a corner. He made a gesture to come closer, and the bronze skinned man slid across the floor, like he was one with darkness, one with the shadows.
"We've a problem," he said quietly.
"Something that couldn't wait until morning, Baz?" Tarrence asked irritably.
The man shook his head. "The slaves have all been moved during the night." At this statement Tarrence sat straight up and Baz continued. "The slaver was being held in the dungeons instead."
Tarrence growled and his fist clinched the sheets. "And the girl?" he said through tightly closed teeth.
Baz held his head low, "She is under his protection, m'lord."
Tarrence jumped from the bed and pounded a fist on his leg. Baz took a step back at the display of anger, but waited for his commands. Tarrence began to pace. "This is not what I planned. I will have to think carefully on how to proceed." He stopped a moment and glanced back at his right arm man, "you don't think he knows, do you?"
"No sire," Baz replied instantly, "Not about the girl or you."
Nodding, Tarrence resumed his pacing, "That will have to be enough for now. Leave me to think." Baz made no noise as he left, but Tarrence felt he was alone again, and he began to pace once more. Yes, he had some serious thinking to do.
Early rays of daylight broke over the horizon and cascaded down upon Jareth as he strolled in a small, secluded corner of the Labyrinth. The high stone walls kept the place cool and dry and sheltered from the wind. Hanging over some of the ledges were large willow trees barely moving from the breeze. There were birds chirping and squirrels chasing each other and all other natural morning sounds that Jareth enjoyed. He was just casually walking, occasionally brushing his hands against some of the plants. It was peaceful and Jareth took a deep breath of the morning air, for he knew his peaceful solitude was at an end. Belittling his size, Didymus appeared around a bend in complete silence. He bowed and then stood eyebrows furrowed. "You're going to have to talk to Tarrence this morning. Already he is awake and demanding to see you."
"That's impetuous of him, don't you think?" Jareth replied coldly without pausing his walk.
With a deep sigh Didymus shook his head, "I don't know, Jareth. Perhaps we can offer him compensation."
Jareth stopped suddenly and spun towards Didymus eyes flashing red, "No. He knew the laws and tested them and failed. Do what you will Didymus, but he will not demand an explanation from me." With that, Jareth turned away and vanished.
Didymus shook his head and sighed. He frowned as he heard trumpets heralding an important arrival from the city and quickly went to investigate.
The front gates, glittery in gold, opened wide as a procession of banner waving men and white coated horses pulling a lace covered coach came through the city. The people of Dorensae gathered at the road sides cheering and trying to see who the guest was, but it was not a mystery to Didymus who stood at the front doors to the palace. There were two banners: one blue and white with a star and a crown, which was Lord Ovster's banner and the other purple and green with a silver castle, Lord Sajal's banner. Didymus ground his teeth. If all the lords were going to show unannounced a week before a scheduled meeting, why bother setting appointments. But he did not say such a thing as the announcer jumped from the back of the coach and took his place three steps up from the bottom of the flight of stairs leading to the front palace doors.
The small man took a deep breath and projected his voice, "It is my great honor to introduce Lord Ovster of Cannan and the Lady Emma of Cordel, who represents her husband, Lord Sajal of Cordel in the prosperous city of Dorensae under our wonderful ruler, King Jareth of Dorensae." The crowd cheered and two footmen opened either side of the coach. On one side, an old man with a large bald spot emerged, covered in lavish robes and jewelry.
Didymus approached him and gave a small bow, "My lord, what an honor to have you."
Though old, Ovster was no fool and he flashed a smile that made Didymus' skin crawl. "Yes, I'm sure you're overly enthused by our presence." He said as he began to walk up the steps.
"Of course my lord," replied Didymus quickly, "it is always a pleasure to see one of my lord's servants." Didymus kept his face steeling calm as Ovster paused and stared at him for a moment before turning and resuming the walk up the flight of stairs. "Another servant will show you your room, my lord," Didymus finished, and then rounded to the other side of the coach where Lady Emma stood gracefully. Her long, blonde hair fell to her waist and she pushed out the wrinkles in her soft blue gown. As Didymus approached her she extended her hand, which he took and kissed the back of softly. "My lady," he said with a smile.
"Insufferable, isn't he?" She said with a gleam in her blue eyes. "I despised the whole journey here listening to his squabbles." Didymus offered her an arm and she accepted and allowed him to escort her up the stairs. "Oh, I do love it here, Didymus. Where shall I be staying this time?"
"I'm not sure, my Lady. Your arrival is a bit early, but I'm sure the servants will have adequate accommodations."
Emma laughed, "As long as they are far away from Ovster."
Didymus returned the laugh, "I'm sure that can be arranged."
Sarah woke with trumpets blaring. It nearly scared her out of her skin and she jumped to her feet in a start. She was still wrapped in a blanket and slowly the night's events returned to her. The king…he had said he was a king. There was noise coming from a window and she slowly walked to it, pulling back the drapes to see the full expanse of the city below. She was on a lower floor to a monstrous castle, she could tell, but she was still above the city. At the gates, beautiful horses were halted and a beautiful woman was laughing with a large man with curly red hair that Sarah faintly remembered seeing before. It was an exciting site, for she could the importance of these people, and for the first time in a long while felt like a guest instead of a prisoner. She did not know if it was a false belief, but it allowed her to take a deep breath and enjoy the sight.
Zalick had managed to enter the room without the girl noticing and smiled, "That'll be the Lady Emma," he said softly. Sarah spun around, fright in her eyes, but Zalick only smiled. "It's alright. I'll not hurt you. My name is Zalick," he said sitting on a tall stool. "What is your name?"
"Sarah." She answered timidly, but there was no waver in her voice and she did not try to flee.
"Good, good," he replied with a smile. "How are you feeling today, young Sarah? I had the responsibility of healing you last night, and wish to know how I fared." His eyes were friendly and Sarah took a step towards him tightly holding the blanket around her body.
"Very well, thank you." She said.
Zalick watched her a moment. "Well, I suppose our king will want to see you, after we get you cleaned up of course."
A deep blush came to her cheeks, and because of her paleness, it was more profound. "I think I've met him already…last night."
"Well, not matter," he said standing stiffly. "Let's get you some clothes and a bath, if you feel up to it?" She bit her bottom lip and Zalick frowned, "What, Sarah?" He asked with concern.
"Am…am I a…prisoner, here?" She barely spoke the word and Zalick's eyes widened.
"No, no dear Sarah." He frowned again, "I'm not sure what you are here, and I will tell you that it is in your best interest to stay here in the castle, but I do not believe you are a prisoner." She nodded and allowed him to escort her from the room, secure, yet unsure of herself in this new surroundings.
Well, sorry it took so long, writer's block and all that. Anyway, hope you enjoy it.