Chapter 16. Vengeance and the King
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Author's note:
Violence and torture
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Sarah had seen the room swallowed up by flames, she'd felt the rumble of the ground beneath her feet. The last thing she had seen was Lilith being forcibly thrown through the doorway to the antechamber by the blast that swallowed up the chamber. As disillusioned by the Greek as she'd been, she still hoped the girl had not been injured. Nevertheless it was the talons gripping her she was giving her attention to. She'd not run into Harpies on her first journey through the Labyrinth. Her only knowledge of them was what she'd read in books of mythology. The talons were long and seemed to go from flexible to rigid at the will of their owner. They were like nothing Sarah had ever seen before, and she found her eyes glued to them as they held her firmly in place.
Jareth had brought them to the windswept hill just beyond the Labyrinth's gate. Here he turned to Devon, "Take your prize home, cousin."
The Lord Baron looked disconcertedly toward the girl being held by the Harpy. "And you? You can't just waltz her into the castle no matter how many memories you've shifted. It's far too risky." Devon had noticed the slight wince Jareth made when he'd used the word waltz. He regretted the use of that world the moment he'd spoken it. Knowing some of Jareth's past with this creature being held by Della gave him insights others would not have. However, now was not the time to worry over insights, nor even hurt feelings, the Baron was worry about the state of the King's health. He was going on raw nerves at this point, and Devon knew it.
Sarah looked sharply from the Baron to the Goblin King, what did the man mean? Whose memories had been shifted, certainly not hers; she remembered this place. She recalled the warm winds that first time, and the feeling of being in over her head. She also remembered her first view of the Labyrinth, as the sun began to rise on that windswept hillside so long ago. It was here she had nearly faltered in her quest to save Toby. Here the Goblin had tempted her by speaking into her ear and beseeching her to turn back. Below this hillside was the gate where she'd met Hoggle, although there seemed to be no sign of her friend and traveling companion now.
"Waltz her into the castle," the sarcasm in Jareth's tone caused the girl to shudder even while in the grip of the Harpy. "Hardly," he glared down at the girl who was refusing to cower; she'd controlled the shudder and suppressed it swiftly. Something within him found that refusal fascinating and stimulating, yet something equal to that aspect of the King's inner being found it a challenge and he had a desire to break her. But slowly, there would be no pleasure in a victory too easily won. "There'll be no waltzing this girl, not this time."
"Jareth," Devon sounded concerned, and the King shook his head and warned him off.
The Goblin King's attention was solely on Sarah, his eyes burned with fires kindled with pain and fury. "You gave me a taste of your …dungeon. Now I would like you to have a taste of mine."
"Do your worst," she challenged, glaring back at him even though she was held in the Harpy's clasp and the tips of talons were now leaving depressions in her arms.
Della sneered, "I doubt you have any idea of what our worst can be."
Bryn, still struggling on the Baron's shoulder, had turned her head when she'd heard Sarah's provoked challenge. She worried that Sarah was going to get more than she'd bargained for, "Sarah, no." Her sharp warning was going unheeded. "Don't antagonize them!"
Devon shifted her on his shoulder, "I will join you presently…" He warned his cousin. "Give me time to deposit my little bundle safely at my home."
"Suit your-self," Jareth said with cold aloofness. "You'll know where to find me." He stated as he began the spell to transfer them.
Bryn cried out, "Sarah!"
Devon watched as the group vanished, he heard Bryn's exasperated gasp and half uttered oath. "I'm afraid you're not going to be seeing your friend for some time to come." He said as he placed her on her feet. "Perhaps in the future, but for now…" He shrugged.
"You can't let him just …" She began to protest loudly. However one gloved finger silenced her.
"Cariad, be still," He took hold of the chain in his hand and the hillside vanished. They were now standing at the entry of a comfortable looking English styled country house. "I don't have a great deal of time, so please forgive me for this abruptness." He said as he opened the front door. "Mrs. Finch? Mrs. Finch!" he called out.
An older woman came hustling out of a corridor. "Dearie me," she exclaimed. "We were not expecting you home, my Lord…." She glanced at Bryn who discreetly covered herself and bushed a bit. "And with a guest;" The woman looked now at the Baron, waiting for orders.
"Mrs. Finch is my housekeeper," Devon explained to Bryn rather briskly. "This young lady will be my guest for some time to come," He winked at the housekeeper. "I should think the green suite would suit her," He instructed. "See to it she has a nice long bath and see if you can find her something more… appropriate to wear."
"Yes sir," the older woman said cheerily.
Bryn looked at him with suspicion and wariness; "Your guest?" Raising her hands she slightly rattled the chain and shackles. "Do you often entertain young women bound in shackles?" Her voice was thick with irony.
Devon uttered something under his breath she didn't understand, while aloud he said. "Damned thoughtless of me," he took hold of the chain and it vanished as did the shackles. "I would love to stay and see to your needs properly," He said hurriedly. "However there are more pressing needs than yours at this moment. I'll explain everything to you when I return," he promised holding her hands gently. "Until then, please, go have a nice bath, and rest, Cariad."
Mrs. Finch placed an arm about the young woman's shoulders and gave her an encouraging squeeze; "Don't you be worrying over the young lady, sir. She's in good hands." She addressed the girl. "You look like you could do with a nice cup of tea."
"That would be lovely," Bryn nodded as the elderly woman led her toward the stairs.
Devon watched for a moment, silently thanking the Gods yet again for having led him to Mrs. Finch. He knew with her in charge the mortal girl would be in good safe hands. He also knew that there was no way Mrs. Finch would allow her to even hazard a thought of escape. Not having to worry about the girl gave him the freedom to concentrate his thoughts on his cousin. He stepped out side the door of his cottage and closed his eyes to locate the other Fae. "The dungeons?" he frowned. "So be it," he muttered before vanishing in a mist.
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From wind swept hillside to the entrance of the dark recesses of a dank dungeon was a shock Sarah had not truly been prepared for. She had seen the tunnels under the Labyrinth, but they were dry, seemingly harmless enough. This place was anything but harmless. It was dark except for the baskets of burning pitch. The female Goblin reached over to the side of the entrance, retrieving a hand torch, lit it and led the way into the down shaft corridor to the dungeon's interior. The rough hewn steps that were cut into the stone that formed the foundations under the Castle were like the tunnels under the Labyrinth. Sandy colored and had flecks of something that sparkled in the flicker of the torch flames. The deeper they descended the darker the walls became, and the heavier the air, the odor of something foul having been burned hung like a fog in the atmosphere.
Daisy led the way down the steep passage followed by Jareth, who was at this point going on adrenalin and rage, not a good combination when he was at his peak; a dangerous one with him fighting the poisons in his system from exposure to iron as he was now. Behind Jareth Sarah was marched down the steep passageway in front of Della who was bringing up the rear. Her claw tips were beginning to dig slightly into the flesh of the girls' forearms as she complained about not being a gopher and hating having to be under ground. The Harpy had to pull her wings in tighter than she normally would, and had found that once or twice on the decent her wings had scrapped against the wall. This did nothing to improve her mood, nor did it endear Sarah to her. The Harpy groused about the moisture that was now seeping into her feathers and making her itch to get out of here.
Jareth ignored the complaints; he had more important things to worry over. He never once looked back over his shoulder; he knew the Harpy guard would make sure the mortal was delivered to the heart of the dungeon. "Welcome to my version of hell, Sarah." He said as they entered a subterranean chamber that was wide and high. Daisy moved from basket to basket lighting the fuel that was filled with in. It smoked and smelled foul and strangely familiar. It burned, but gave off very limited light, mostly it stunk. The chamber soon filled with this stench as well as the dank musty odors that clung to the walls already. "You are not the first guest to visit these chambers," he said casually; "Only the most recent."
Not wishing to give him the satisfaction of seeing her as weak, Sarah pretended to have little interest in this subterranean cavity. Keeping the Harpy holding her from digging its claws in was more important to her; however she could not help but notice the chamber they were now standing in. The room itself was not overly large but it did have a high vaulted ceiling, and that gave the room more depth. It was oddly shaped having been hewn out of the rocks. Each wall held a arched opening that led to dark corridors, and Sarah was sure she didn't want to go down any one of them. Unwillingly and against her will Sarah felt a shudder pass through her.
"Cold?" taunted the Harpy.
Jareth motioned the Goblin leading them onward; soon they were in a narrow hallway. It opened into a larger chamber that held the smell of rotting flesh and old blood. Again the Goblin began to light the wall torches and light baskets. This time she also lit the fuel inside stone basin braziers that were scattered though out this larger chamber. Jareth saw the flicker in Sarah's eyes as she recognized the features of this room. He would have preferred outright fear, but she was unwilling to grant that to him. "This chamber is reserved for the enemies of the crown…" he drawled moving toward one of the large wooden frames. "I'm sure you're familiar with the concepts behind most of these pieces. This one for instance," his hand rested on the rack lightly; "This is not so different from that lovely chair you had me seated in."
"Would you like to give this little thing a good stretching, Sire?" Della asked feeling resistance in the prisoner.
Feral was the only way to describe the expression in the heart of the King's stormy eyes. "Perhaps later, Della," he looked toward the raised rocks that formed a bowl and pointed to the rafter over it. "For now let's string our new guest up while I contemplate how to return her generous treatment of me while I was her guest." He moved to a heavy high backed wooden chair, and took a seat.
Della moved Sarah roughly toward the basin, violently yanking her arms above her head. Her still shackled wrists, fettered by the leather straps that held her, were now fastened to a hook that hung down from the rafter. The mortal girl cried out sharply when the Harpy dropped her allowing all her weight to pull on her shoulders, Della chortled. In retaliation Sarah whipped her legs about and dug one spiky heeled red shoe into the leg of the unprepared guard. Della raised her taloned hand, ready to strike only the King's growl prevented the Harpy from slashing the girl. Della moved back, flexed her hand and the talon retracted.
Jareth leaned both elbows on the arms of the wooden chair, steepled his fingers and became pensive. "How do I begin to repay your hospitality?" He watched the girl dangling; her feet were off the ground, with no means of being able to hold herself stable. "You were so very gracious, and I do so wish to return the act of kindness you showered upon me." Della stood back where the flaying girl could not reach her with an outstretched leg or foot. "Della," he said at last; "Remove those excuses for garments. Slash them off her, but take care you don't scratch Sarah's delicate hide."
The Harpy moved behind the girl who was trying to turn to prevent the order from being carried out. "Don't you lay a claw on me you overgrown parakeet!" she growled with bravado. "I'll tear each of those claws out and shove them into your ugly face."
"Mouthy, isn't she?" Della snorted placing a hand on the girl's shoulder from behind her to keep her in place. "Pity to waste nice leathers," she lamented.
"You may salvage what you wish," Jareth muttered watching as the Harpy drew a single talon claw from Sarah's shoulder up to her wrist. Half the bolero jacket fell aside showing the girls back. "Careful, Della." He warned as the girl shifted and pulled.
"I know what I'm doing," growled the Harpy moving the hand that hand done the slicing to the bare shoulder and fastened down without digging in. Her now free claw sprung to life and neatly sliced down the opposite arm, and the remains of the jacket fell into the basin below Sarah. Della looked down at the chaps that covered Sarah's legs. "Hold still," she warned the girl. "I should hate to damage either hide." Her talon retracted and she unfastened the belt at the girl's hipline. The ties on the back of Sarah's legs released easily and the chaps were added to the pile of leather beneath her.
Devon arrived and came sauntering into the chamber. He leaned on the side of the King's chair. "Have I missed anything?" he asked carelessly. His eyes however were vigilantly watchful of his cousin. He could see the man was going on reserves and would soon collapse.
"Nothing to speak of," Jareth said audaciously. "Leave the shoes," suggested the King, now leaning forward in the heavy chair, resting his arms on the wooden braces as he looked at the naked girl hanging helplessly. "And that thing she's sporting." He pointed to the nipple jewelry. Della shrugged as she moved to snatch the leathers out of the basin. The King waved her off, and looked at the womanly figure dangling before him. "Let me see, what was the first of your little kindness to me? Ah yes, feathers… how very original and ironic… you must have spent all of ten minutes thinking up that one." He rose from his seat, glad his cousin had not tried to offer help. Devon stood slightly behind the King, ready to act if needed.
Sarah gnashed her teeth as she watched him moving closer. Somewhere between the chair and the basin a long thick French Tickler of strange looking feathers appeared in his hand. "This," he said holding it eye level for her to observe; "Is a bit more substantial." Swiftly the wand end was swung through the air, coming down on Sarah's rounded rump and received a gasp of surprise from the girl.
"Feathers?" Della asked skeptically.
"Harpy and Roc feathers, Della," Devon said watching as the king applied the wand over and over to the girl until her skin began to welt. "The edges of the feathers are not…gentle." He observed the new look of respect that came to the Harpy's features. He also observed the mortal bite down on her lower lip and refused to cry out.
When the girl's backside was a bright cherry red, Jareth flicked his wrist. The tickler vanished, replaced by a long thick piece of ice on a stick. Without warning he slapped it down on the reddest portion of the girl's rump drawing the refused cry from deep within her. Devon winced seeing the ice stick to and pull the reddened skin from her hide in frozen scrapings. Little trails of blood began to ooze. Jareth moved the ice down her backside, slowly maneuvering it to between her legs and up to her shaven mound. She hissed and growled as he applied it to her swollen sex lips. Devon showed no concern, knowing his sympathies had to be with his King in this matter.
Jareth flung the ice aside; it hit the bottom of the basin and shattered into thousands of pieces. "You and your little friends were such gracious hostesses," he snarled as he formed a crystal in his hands that turned into a goblet of warm water. Callously he tossed the contents of the goblet to the girl's already abused backside. The heat burned the irritated skin and the girl moaned without restraint. "Baby, we've just started… and I'm not giving you a full hour of each of these samples of… amusement."
Devon shook his head, "Jareth…" he was worried, the man before him could not keep up this pace, he was showing signs of having been poisoned. "You've forever to exact payment in kind."
The King looked over his shoulder, eyes smoldering with fury, and poison. "Perhaps you have a valid point." He moved back to the chair. "Daisy," he pulled her closer with a hand on her shoulder. "Go to Joachim; tell him the King needs the rest of the set. Bring him to me."
Sarah panted, swallowed the blood and moisture gathered in her mouth. Looking up she tried to find a way to pull herself off the hook, but found no way. Helpless, angry, and growing desperate she looked over her shoulder at the King who in the dim lighting seemed hollow eyed. "Why don't you just kill me and be done with it, you fucking bastard?"
"There'll be no quick releases for you my nymph," Jareth snapped back. "I've yet to repay the full extent of your hospitality." Leaning back his eyes rested on her jewelry. "Della, remove that… trinket." He ordered; "Gently, if you will."
"Gently?" complained the Harpy.
Jareth nodded, a sadistic gleam filling his stormy eyes. "For now. Perhaps you best secure those legs before you do."
Della captured one leg and secured the ankle while avoiding the other with its lethal heel moving like a slashing claw. When the remaining ankle was fastened and fettered the Harpy ran its retracted talon tips over the girl's upper torso, teasing and taunting. The girl shuddered with each application of come into contact with the Harpy. Della looked over at the King; his eyes were gloating and urging her on. Della waited until she and Sarah had complete eye contact, she then pinched the nipples of the other girl as she removed the rings without loosening them. She saw the pain the other refused to voice as she clamped down her jaw. Moving back to the King she handed the chain with its dangling charms over to Jareth. Holding one hand over his chest, and the other to his chin, Devon watched.
Joachim arrived moments later, preceded by Daisy. He moved to the King, ignoring the mortal hung from the rafter. "You sent for me, Sire?"
"Yes, did you bring them?" Jareth leaned back, looking at the man.
"Indeed." He removed a package from his jerkin, holding it for the king to observe as he opened it. "Just as requested."
Jareth nodded, and drew a long breath as he stood up. "Della, it's time for you to exercise those lovely talons." He said moving forward. "I need a few perforation to be made in the hide of the prisoner… they must be accurate meticulous and precise in their placement. Start with her right nipple."
Della raised one brow, before turning her attention to the young woman who was fettered without hope of release. Sarah had called Della a parakeet, after Lilith had called her a dodo. Now the Harpy had itchy talons, Sarah, squirming on the chains, knew what is coming. Della tormented her by taking her time; "Call me a parakeet, will you? A sweet little songbird in a gilded cage?" The voice of the Harpy took on a sharpness that matched the talons she began to scrap along the wall to hone. "Well, my little chickadee, let's see how sweet your song can be." The talons of Della's right clawed hand Proceeded to manipulate Sarah's nipples for a rise. Sarah lashed out, but shackled by her wrists and ankles she was reduced to growls, howls, spits and gnashes her teeth at Della to stop. Della laughed and returned the display in kind with more untamed coarseness than Sarah could ever have mustered in this condition. Sarah, obviously terrified by the harpy felt her bravado flee as Della sunk a single talon into the raised bud of her breast, piercing the first nipple to Sarah screams. An expression of exhilaration formed on the Harpy's face.
Jareth smirked, "Sweeter song has never graced my ears. Let us hear that note again." Coldly he pointed to the other breast.
Della snickered brazenly as she repeated the scraping of the left talon on the wall to sharpen it to a honed finish that was deadly accurate. Again the Harpy repeated the manipulation of the second breast to raise the nipple. Sarah shivered under her manipulations, anticipating the painful jab, when it came she shut her eyes, screaming powerlessly. The talon slipped out of the perforation dripping with Sarah's blood.
"Beautifully sung, my little song bird," Jareth murmured dreamily, he held his hands out to inspect the workmanship of the items that Joachim still possessed.
"If they are to your Majesty's liking, I shall cut them open for you." The master metal worker said looking with pride at the items.
Jareth lifted one perfectly worked ring of silver appreciatively in his gloved hand; even in pain he betrayed no weakness or tremor. "Not necessary," Jareth muttered to him.
"Sire, how exactly do you intend to… insert a closed ring?" The man asked watching the king's anger building.
"Thusly," Jareth sent the item magically though the air and though Sarah's body lodging it into the perforation made by Della. Sarah shriek as the ring dropped into place and renewed the fresh pain from Della's talon. The first ring hung, pulling slightly on the tender perforation of skin and a droplet of blood appeared. Picking up the second ring before the girl could catch her breath he sent it to its new resting place in her second piercing.
The pain that shot through the girl buckled her knees and if she had been on her feet she'd have collapsed. Only the hook kept her from descending in a lump to the bowl of the basin.
Jareth picked up the last item in the case, and gave the empty container to Joachim appreciatively. He cupped the little ring in the palm of his hand, closing his long leather clad fingers over it. Snorting lightly he moved toward Sarah, "Your notes were sweet, however there is yet one note I desire to hear wobble from your lovely throat." He moved the ring to hold it between his for finger and his thumb; slowly he brought it to where the girl could see it. "And that note I shall cherish," he promised darkly. Turning to Della, he inclined his head and gave the order. "I've this last ring for the lady; can you guess where it shall hang?"
Della knew very well what was in the mind of the wickedly smiling King; however she knew that terror was playing a large element in this adornment. "Perhaps her nose?" Della suggested placing a talon along side Sarah's elegant nose.
"No," Jareth murmured gleefully.
"Surely not her belly," Della raked her fingers down the torso of the girl panting with fearful anticipation and heaving dry sobs.
"Close," Jareth said watching the talon make a fine line scratch and the blood that sprung to Sarah's peachy skin. "Guess again."
Devon felt a pang of pity for the girl, her eyes widened as she began to pull on the bindings of her wrists.
The Harpy looked down, as Della scraped her talons very lightly down Sarah's belly, leaving scant welts and blood, more from the nipple blood that had been left on her talon, making a web of bright red trailing to her pubis. Della cups Sarah's mons and she squirmed desperately trying to free herself from what was coming. "Now, now," Della cooed sickeningly sweetly, "His Highness wants a single piercing, not an alternative opening."
Sarah turned her eyes to Jareth; "No, please…oh God don't do this…" she begged raggedly.
Nodding to the Harpy he directed; "Slowly Della, I want this note to last."
Terror filled the pale jewel eyes of the mortal girl. The Harpy slid the side of her talon along the side of the furrow, rubbing gently the cleft of Venus to stimulate the girl's clitoris until its hood was engorged to where the Harpy could get a clear stab. As the razor-sharp pointed tip sliced into the tender membrane the mortal girl shrieked in pain and humiliation. Jareth watched with cold eyes, and then set the ring where it would remain for all time. Sarah released one last yelp of pain before she collapse unconscious, dangling on the hook.
Jareth stepped back; Devon gripped his arms to keep him upright. "Take her away," the King ordered.
"Where to?" Devon asked, "We don't dare leave her here in the dungeon, not if you wish to keep her presences quiet for now."
Jareth was losing more color, turning far more pale than usual. The poisons were coursing through his veins. "No, not here," he agreed as he looked at the girl. "The tower… take her to the tower…" He ordered Della who was already unhooking the girl's shackles from the hook.
Della nodded and cradled the naked girl in her arms; "As you wish my King."
Once the Harpy had carried the body of the swooned girl away, Devon allowed himself to show more concern. "Jareth you need a healer, now." The King nodded as his cousin shouldered the weight of the King. "I'll take you to your bed chamber."
"There may be a problem with that," Daisy held a hand up to prevent them from moving. "While I was getting the Metal Master here, I used one of the old tunnels to cut my time… We've an uninvited and unwanted guest awaiting you in the Castle… the Lord Talagon had decided to drop in on us… I over heard him saying he was insulted that you both left the High King's fete."
"We had permission to leave from the High King himself!" Devon protested loudly. "Damn that man is more trouble than he's worth."
Joachim interrupted what could have been a lengthy tirade. "Daisy, use the tunnels again and bring the healer to the King's bedchamber. My Lord with your permission I should like to offer my services in hoodwinking that lout." He moved to the other side of the paling king. "Lord Devon if you would, magic up a fine bottle of brandy…" When the vintage was within Devon's hand the Metal Smith instructed both Fae men to take a long swig and to pass the flagon his way. Joachim then took a long drought, and unceremoniously spattered the three of them with the remainder. Looking about he noticed a length of silk from a feminine article of underwear lying on one of the wooden frames. Grabbing it up he wrapped it loosely about the King's blistered throat. "Now, would you know the Goblin's Keg?" he mentioned a risqué drinking song popular in most of the pubs in the Kingdom. When they nodded he began in a deep baritone the first of the many stanza song.
By the time they reached the castle's front hall where Talagon was being kept waiting, they were on the most risqué portion of the song. Talagon frowned as the three staggered into the hall. Jareth looked at him and waved him off and the pair of conspirators hauled the king along up the stairs toward his bedchamber.
The steward looked at the unwanted guest and said quietly. "I told you he was indisposed."
Talagon pushed past the steward and exited the castle noisily.
Daisy had brought the healer, a Fae called Ghillie Dhu. He was old, older than old Oberon, and bent with age. His face was covered in a long flowing beard of white that covered his deep wrinkles. Daisy had long suspected that he and the old man in the hedge maze were related. Both had knowing eyes and similar features. But Ghillie Dhu dressed in garments made of birch and moss and other long threads harvested in the vast forest lands of the realm. His eyes opened wide when the three swaggered into the chamber. "You didn't say I was treating a too long stay at the pub," he admonished the female Goblin.
"You're not," she moved swiftly to pull back the King's bedding. "The ruse worked?" She questioned the metal smith.
"Indeed," he nodded helping to put the king on the bed for the healer to examine. "I dare say we'll have a few days peace."
Ghillie Dhu gently moved the two conspirators aside, moving closer he noticed the substance oozing on the silk that was coiled about the king's neck. "Allow me to remove this … token," he teased the King gently. When the fabric was removed he looked at the king with more serious eyes. "Why did you not come to me sooner? You are surely aware of the serious nature of this wound." Soothing hands moved over the blisters as the old healer examined the extent of the King's injuries and lesions. He looked at Daisy. "I'm going to give you a list of herbs and ointments to bring to me." After sending the female out with the list, he turned to the Lord Baron. "How did the King receive these wounds?" When the man was reluctant to answer, the healer reminded him of his oath. "I'm foresworn to the King, my loyalty is his. What is said in this chamber was never heard."
"He was captured,"
"Enemies of the crown;" questioned the healer.
Jareth groaned answering; "In a manner of speaking, yes." He was pained, pale and near exhaustion.
Devon frowned, "I would hardly call them that…" he looked over to the healer. "Three witches… mortal witches and young ones at that."
"They seemed to have enough knowledge of our physiology to do a good deal of damages…." The healer injected. "This was done by the looks of it with iron, a good deal of the poisons are concentrated in the King's blood…. He will have to be purged." He stood up and looked at both men. "I will have to ask you both for your help."
While the healer prepared the items he'd sent Daisy for, Devon filled in the missing blanks to the questions that were asked. Jareth was told to lie still, and await the first potion. Ghillie Dhu had the men bring the King into his private bath chamber where he was given the first potion that promptly had him evacuating the contents of his stomach. Moss was placed on all topical wounds to leech the remains of the iron from the King. The old healer warned that he would treat the wounds but as they had waited so long, there would most likely be heavy scaring. Once the King had been purged fully, and his wounds treated he was once more placed in bed. The old healer looked at Daisy. "He'll need bed rest for at least a week; does he have any pressing duties?"
Daisy shook her head, "As far as I know, only if a summons comes."
"Ah yes," sighed the old man. "Well we'll deal with what comes." He placed a hand on the shoulder of the guard, "I will expect you and the rest of the guards to keep the King's privacy."
"Of course," she answered, "I'll be outside if you need me Sire." She bowed then exited.
Devon looked sheepishly at his cousin, "Jareth, with your permission, I do have a guest…"
Jareth snorted, but smiled wickedly. "Go have your fun." He watched as the Lord Baron vanished into the mists. The metal smith and the healer both were dismissed and the King lay back in his bed considering his options. He'd never before been duped, and found he didn't like it, not one bit. More over, he was now thinking of the fallout he'd left behind him on the mortal planes, "Daisy," he shouted harshly getting out of the bed, his shouts were answered by the guard entering the chamber.
"Yes, Sire?"
"We have to go back," he grimaced, "I've remembered something and I need to make sure no other mortal can do what these three have." When she began to protest, he snapped. "This can not wait, now come along! I need your help. There is no time to waste." Grabbing onto her shoulder they moved through a portal he opened.
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Sarah was motionless in the hands of the Harpy as it flew up toward the ivory and opal bedecked tower. She was dumped on the cold stone floor as soon as the winged creature entered the window. Della moved to the sill of the window, and took a seat. There was little chance of escape, but she wanted to see the anguish on the mortal's face when she awakened.
Slowly but surely in stages of agonizing pain the mortal girl began to stir, and raised her head off the floor. The pain in her chest could only be out measured by the throbbing pain in her nether region. Bracing herself on her arms, she took long deep breaths, trying to focus.
"Well, look who's finally awake," mocked the Harpy from her seat on the sill.
Sarah looked over at the creature with burning hate in the depths of her green eyes. "Go fuck yourself you bitch."
Della laughed harshly, "I often do, little pincushion, I often do." She leaned suggestively against the frame of the opening. "Perhaps now that I've been allowed to do the honor of piercing you, perhaps the King will allow me to have other fun with you." Sarah looked away, sickened by the thought of what she'd endured at the hands of the creature already. "Such modesty," Della mocked her again.
"Leave me in peace," Sarah moaned falling back on her arms and wincing in pain.
"Of course," she stood upon the sill, looking down with distain at the mortal. "However I've a few suggestions for you. First, don't try to climb out the window unless you plan on sprouting wings, it's a long nasty fall. Second, don't try to sweet talk any of the Harpies who will be watching over you…We are all foresworn to the King…. And lastly, mind your pees and Q's with the Goblins; I hear they are not too fond of anyone making an attempt on the King's life." She extended her wings, and glided out the window, soaring and then coming back with one last taunt. "Oh and thanks for the concert… perhaps we can do it again some time…."
Sarah heard the flapping of wings over her sobs as she crumpled again to the ground.
&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&
Jareth and Daisy appeared on the other side of the portal, night was once more falling in the mortal realm and the building that had housed the torture chamber was smoldering. Jareth sniffed the air, pointed to the little house and moved carefully with the Goblin toward the second building. "They must have been staying in this place, it has their scents."
Daisy nodded, "I'd wager they used this as sleeping quarters, Sire." She sniffed as the king had. "Upstairs." She pointed once they had entered the building. "The grounds appear to be deserted."
Jareth moved up the stairs with the goblin supporting his weight. "Not for long if I know mortals, I'm sure Sarah's family are going to want to investigate this so called accident."
"Accident?" Daisy questioned. "You caused the cavity of gas beneath the building to explode…"
"Yes, but I doubt anyone will believe the mortal left behind…" He stopped in the upper floor hallway in front of a door. "This must be Sarah's room… it's got her scent more strongly than the others." A wave of his hand and the door opened to him. He entered the room carefully, mindful that the crafty mortal girl could have set traps. He looked about the room and found books and crystals and other arcane tools. "Gather all this," he ordered. "Leave no trace of the occut behind us, what ever they used will be confiscated for our safety. This room first than the other two, we must take it all." He turned to leave, yet when he did, he was halted by the painting on the wall. Moving closer, he looked at the work of art silently for a long time.
"Sire?" The Goblin in his company looked from him to the wall. "Is there something wrong?"
Jareth's hand went to the painting and traced the intricate work of the Dragon's wing. "Wrong? No, nothing. We'll take this too…" he said removing the frame from the wall. "Spoils of war," he quietly chanted almost to himself. Looking over to Daisy he gave her a half smile, "Gather the books and other items… I want to make this the last time I see this hellish place."
"Yes, Sire." She went about gathering everything that had the least linkage to magic. Any thing that gave off a strong scent or aura was added to the growing pile. When Daisy had gathered the last thing, she turned to the king and nodded.
Jareth raised a hand, and sent the entire pile to the hidden recesses of his personal study. No one would dare enter, and he knew every last thing would be accounted for. Taking the painting in one hand, and placing the other on the shoulder of his guard he again opened a portal and as quickly and quietly as they'd come, the pair left the mortal plane.
Once back in his own chamber, he found Della sitting, staring crossly at the portal as it opened. Limping into the chamber he motioned the Harpy to keep her tongue silent. She glared at him, but voiced no complaint. He handed the painting to Daisy as he moved to his bed, and collapsed into the mattress.
Della shook her head as she moved to the bed and quietly tucked the exhausted and totally drained king in. Once she'd covered him up, she turned to Daisy who was placing the frame on the wall beside a pair of Harpy wings. "What's that?" She questioned.
"Spoils of war," Daisy said looking at the brush strokes. "What do you see?"
Della frowned, she didn't care for art, nor did she care to be asked what she saw. "Two winged creatures… natural enemies." She answered after reflecting for a moment. "What do you see?"
"Trouble," Daisy said shoving her hands into her little pockets.