Feast of Hunter's Moon
Synopsis: On the night of the Red Moon, the Unseelie Court conducts a Blood Hunt. The Goblin King plans to win it, even at the expense of his beloved. J S
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Preview notes: I may (or may not :P) display a certain type of cockiness every now and then, but I don't think I'm better-than-anybody else. And when I said 'stories like this' in the previous chapter's author notes, I meant dark stories based mostly on imagination (rather than real mythology), with imperfect grammar, and possibly large plot holes. I did not (repeat, not) mean 'hey my story is so wonderful.'
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Warning: This is a dark story with mature themes, not suitable for anyone under the age of 16.
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Chapter 2: Redemption Lost
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The raven-haired being awoke early next morning, unsurprised when he did not see the mortal woman. Picking up his cell phone, Brendan called the nearest RCMP office, and waited patiently for them to arrive. He told them about their trip, how she had seemed fearful last night, and that she had been absent when he awoke. He told them she had been treated for delusions in the past, and she was fascinated with owls. He suggested that she may have followed one into the wilderness. They had asked him to accompany then to their headquarters in a nearby town called Smithers. He asked to stay on the camp site, in case she returned.
He was pleased of the plan's success: she had taken the offered bait. He was sceptical of the plan when he had first seen the woman, for her resistance to Glamour was stronger than most of the mortals' with whom he had interacted in the past. It took him a while to gain her interest, but he finally did so at the Arctic Wildlife Conservation convention. The ring he had given her placed her under a powerful ensnarement spell, leading her to believe she was in love with him. There were times when she eyed him with distrust, knowing deep down that his effect on her was unnatural. However, she never figured out the power of the ring he had given her. She had fallen under his trap, as she should have, and had bitten her poison apple. His work in the mortal realm was complete, the King would be pleased with him.
A raven flew north until it disappeared from the horizon, its black wings beating evenly with the rhythm of the wind.
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The CBC national news reported a story about a missing couple, an upcoming wildlife activist and a former business student, both of whom had disappeared while hiking along the northern shores of British Columbia. They showed their viewers pictures of the couple, beseeching their help. They interviewed Sarah's family members in Edmonton, all of whom were grief stricken. They were worried about her, they said, because she had become very distant toward them lately. She would sometimes forget the names of close family members, even when she was speaking to them. They ended the show with a tear stained, eight-year-old boy pleading for his sister's safe return.
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"You may remove Raven's ring."
She looked at the man speaking to her, her dazed eyes, not knowing how much time had passed since she had left Brendan. The second she was separated from his presence, her senses had numbed, enveloping her in a chill colder than the prairie winters she had encountered as a girl. Her vision dimmed and her hearing softened, as if forlorn that they were denied his company.
He stood across from her on the earth floor in an empty room in his castle, garbed in leather the colour of rich, dark mahogany. His pale hair graced his head like a crown made of icicles and his knife-like eyes pierced into hers, calculating her every thought.
"Remove Raven's ring."
She did not speak, as her eyes gazed at him demurely. She did not move as he neared her, one hand reaching out to hold her wrist. But something violent in her awoke, when he held her hand and slid Brendan's ring off of her finger. She fought him, sinking her nails and teeth into his arm. She screamed and tried to pull the ring away from him, but he held it tightly. She sobbed relentlessly, begging him to return her cherished possession.
An emotion vaguely resembling pity flickered in his eyes, he had known the consequences of removing an ensnarement spell. Once ensnared, the mortal mind would forever be addicted to the sweet hypnosis of the spell. If removed, they would find a void in their souls, one difficult to fulfil. Most would walk the earth, seeking what they had lost, until their longing morphed into insanity. She was stronger than most mortals, he did not expect her fate to be as dark. But even she would feel the sorrow of losing the spell.
There was a fable about one of his kind that fell in love with a mortal man and placed him under her spell. As the years passed, she felt guilty and removed the ensnarement, believing that he would truly love her afterwards. The man left her, horrified that he had been touched by one of their kind. He eventually walked into the ocean, choosing death.
She collapsed onto the dirt floor as an overwhelming sorrow broke her heart.
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She felt as if she was floating. She could not feel her feet, her hands, or her body core.
And then, she saw herself.
She saw herself in the restaurant as he placed a ring on her finger. Her eyes turned hazy, and she looked at him in dull awe. She followed him after that, her eyes greedy with longing and her body begging for his touch. Unable to deny herself his presence, she stopped going to university. She had instead followed Brendan around the country, into the wilderness.
She had slowly lost her friends and family as she no longer cared about them. He occupied her thoughts like a cancerous obsession that was slowly taking control of everything in her life.
She watched in horror as she saw herself climb eagerly into his bed. She fervently pleased him, her body glowing as he touched her, caressed her, and possessed her. She lay down, exhausted afterwards, an eerie glow surrounding her body.
He told her they were going on a hike, he wanted to study the disruption in the hibernating patterns of black bears. He had taken her to a place of breath taking beauty where molten earth made jagged designs on the ground and the moon shone brightly in the night sky.
Then, she heard the owl's screech. The bird of prey swooped down on her before morphing into a pale haired creature.
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Sarah Williams opened her eyes, coughing fiercely as nausea gripped her stomach. A myriad of emotions drained out of her body, leaving only a cold surge of horror and disgust in her gut. Her mind and body had been used like that of a slave's!
"Look at me," he commanded as he held her chin in his leather sheathed hand.
Anger burned in her pale eyes, brightening them. "Do not touch me," she hissed.
A small smile twisted the cruel, thin lips of the Goblin King. He welcomed her anger, an emotion not felt by those stripped of ensnarement. "You recovered fast," he told her, his tone quietly impressed.
"What did you do to me?" she demanded trying to twist her chin from his grasp.
"I did nothing to you." His eyes betrayed no emotion, as they bored steadily into hers. He slowly removed his fingers from holding her chin.
Sarah swallowed feelings of sickness that threatened to manifest physically. "Did you do it for revenge?" she asked, her voice full of sneering hatred. "I'm surprised you sent one of your minions instead of humiliating me yourself, Goblin King." A hysterical smile broke out on her lips. "Believe me, I would have been much more sickened by your touch than his."
The Goblin King laughed, the sound of his hollow laughter echoed wildly from the stone walls of his castle. "If only revenge were the reason Sarah, things would be simpler," he replied, his voice almost wistful.
Sarah clenched her fists tightly until her nails bit into her skin sharply enough to draw blood. She had to be in control of her emotions, she had to. "Nothing gives you the right to use my body as a puppet, Jareth." She tried to keep her voice from shaking when she spoke.
Jareth's eyes turned cold and his lips thinned into a cruel line. "This has nothing to do with your body, Sarah," he told her, his voice disdainful as if deriding her foolishness. "Have you forgotten why you are here?"
She had forgotten. How could she have forgotten? She had taken Brendan's place in the Blood Hunt.
Her eyes slowly widened as realisation dawned on her. This had been his plan from the very beginning. "You wanted to trick me into becoming your prey," she said, unable to control the shakiness in her voice any longer, as a surge of adrenaline rushed through her blood stream.
A wicked amusement filled his dualistic eyes, she was trying to control herself from collapsing again "Prey is a…vulgar word to use in relation to the Blood Hunt. You are my guest."
"Tell me one thing Jareth, why go through all the trouble of setting up an elaborate plan with Brendan?" she asked. She tried her best to contain the despair within her when she said his name, and lock it in a safe place.
"The guest must enter the Hunt by his, or her, own choosing," he responded. "You wanted to save your lover from a horrible fate, even if it meant choosing the fate for yourself."
"I took his place because I was tricked into believing I was in love with him."
"Perhaps, but something else intrigued you as well," the Goblin King mused aloud, his face moulding into an expressionless mask. "You, being the victorious heroine that once defeated the Labyrinth, felt you were better equipped to return."
"Then you brought me here to kill me," her voice was quietly defeated. She could not bring herself to look at him, afraid the triumph in his eyes would be her undoing.
The Goblin King looked at the mortal woman, his merciless eyes pleased by her resignation. "I have brought you here for your resilience, not for your weakness."
She slowly raised her eyes to look into his, frustrated when she saw they were devoid of emotion. "What do you want from me?"
"I want you to help me win the Blood Hunt." A self depreciative scorn was present in his voice.
"No," she replied in a fraction of a second.
"You have no choice." He looked at her intently, his eyes fiercely unrelenting "the alternative would be… less pleasant."
Sarah laughed, the hysteria she had been bottling beneath the surface arose swiftly and purged itself. "After all that you've done to me, you have the gall to believe I would help you with anything? I would rather spend an eternity in the ninth circle of hell."
His lips slowly twisted, opening into a wry smile. "You know nothing of hell Sarah, not in your short years of existence."
She refused to speak to him as she turned her gaze onto the floor.
"You must control your anger and distrust against us, mortal."
Sarah recognized his voice. She whirled her head upright as she looked into the dark eyes of her former lover. He was dressed differently than the last time she had seen him: he was sheathed in a thick black fabric. He wore boots, much like the Goblin King's, except they were more pointed and delicate. His hair was longer than she remembered. The biggest difference she noticed was his face: instead of the warm, friendly smile he used to have when he looked at her, his lips were pursed in a thin line, and his dark eyes were cold.
Sarah abruptly felt sad. She ached to touch him, just one more time. Her eyes could only see him as she slowly made her way across the floor, one hand reaching out to touch his face.
His hand caught hers before she touched his cheek. "Some effects of the spell need time to wear off. Control yourself."
Suddenly breaking out of her trance, she pulled her hand out of his, angry at having been controlled again. "Why?" she asked him, squashing the urge to scream out her betrayal.
"I did what I had to," he responded. His melodious voice cold but eyes were filled with a deep melancholy.
"I can't help you, I'm sorry." She looked away from him.
Raven sighed, a part of him felt sympathy for her situation. "If she wins instead, she will possess you infinitely."
"She?"
The Goblin King eyed the mortal woman absorbedly as he stood beside her. A flicker of emotion had passed in his eyes when he saw her reach out to touch him. "Mab," he replied, even though the question had not been addressed to him. "The Winter Court has been ruled by her for a millennium."
Sarah jumped. When had he moved to stand directly behind her? "What does this have to do with me?"
"I have challenged her for the Throne. She will compete against me in the Blood Hunt." His voice was deeply ruthless, "you would not want her to win."
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End Notes:
-Raven-- Brendan's real name
-RCMP-- Royal Canadian Mounted Police
-CBC-- Canadian Broadcasting Corporation
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