(A/N) Yes, I know, I'm horrible. I haven't updated in forever. But I've been supper busy so here's a nice long chapter to make up for it. () Hope you like the name I picked out for Horse, (it literally means 'horse' in French, it's the root word for chivalry; as in Knights and such) for anyone who's reading this for a second time: Yes, I'm aware I smudged on the time she had, but the mistake has been corrected. A big thank you to Xaviere Jade for pointing that one out:::hugs:::
DISCLAIMER: Do you really have to ask?(see previous disclaiming statements)
DISCLAIMER II : I disclaim the idea for the name Cheval to my history book(which is where it
came from) just to be on the safe side…
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CHAPTER VI – True Colors
Sarah smiled as she watched the Horse gallop the length and breath of the empty paddock, his head held up, ears pricked forward, snorting and leaping just because he could. If he could have been grinning she knew he would have.
He whinnied back over his shoulder; towards her, not the other horses. He'd noticed them through the fence when she'd first turned him loose, but seemed to have little interest in his own kind. He'd snorted and screamed and they'd cleared off to the far corner of the adjoining pasture post haste.
Sarah could see what Justine meant about turning him out with the rest, it was clearly not an option. He ran back towards her, stopping a few feet away to rear and paw the air. Sarah grinned at him, "Boo!" she said loudly.
He jumped backwards, snorting for all he was worth.
She laughed, "Silly thing! Go on! Go play while you can!" he snorted again, then spun around and dashed for the fence.
"Well, I've gotta admit, he's one big beautiful horse…" Justine said, coming to stand next to Sarah. "Suppose it goes to show you that dangerous things come in pretty packages." Sarah knew there was a jibe buried in that one, but she wasn't sure if it was directed at her or a certain Goblin King.
Justine glanced behind them, hearing footsteps, and swore. "Speak of the devil and he shall appear…" she muttered.
He stood, watching the Horse as intently as she had, tapping a riding crop against one tall, black boot. He spoke without so much as turning to glance at them, his eyes never leaving the stallion. "What is that thing doing out here?" he said, his voice practically dripping distain.
Justine seemed unable to meet his gaze, "Well…you see, the thing is…I, uh…"
Sarah stepped forward, hands on her hips, "I put him there." She declared loudly, "It's cruel to keep him locked away like that."
"Sarah-" Justine hissed,
"No! I don't care if you say he's crazy! Well, no wonder! – I'd be mental too if you kept me locked in that dark hole all the time!"
Jareth didn't reply. Instead he turned to Justine, "Has Augusta been informed of this…development?"
Justine shook her head.
"I see. Well, perhaps you're right." He said thoughtfully, glancing at Sarah.
Sarah's eyes widened in shock, "I am?" she smiled, but it was short lived.
"He has not been given adequate care. Nor do we seem to have a place for him here. He's not suited to work or war, he refuses to tolerate the rest of the herd. No, this will not do. Since you brought him out he will be your responsibility for now." He said to Sarah, with his usual smirk, "Clean him up and have him ready by the day of the Fair. He should bring a fair price if we're careful."
"What?!" she shrieked, "That wasn't what I meant at all!" Gods! It was just like him to twist her words into something completely different.
"Sarah, be reasonable. At the moment all he is is a walking feed bill. And while I may be a king, even my resources have their limits." He said patiently, "Every horse I own has a purpose here. They work. They produce, they protect, or carry, or serve in some way to earn their keep. What can that creature do? Shall I place him at the front gate to frighten away unwanted guests? There is no place for him here Sarah; he cannot work so he will be sold."
Sarah wanted to scream in frustration, but she choked it down, her mind whirling. "And…and if he could work, he could stay?" she said slowly. Amazing! Her voice was as calm and level as he looked!
Jareth took a few strides from her, seeming to consider her words.
She pressed on "If I could get him to work, to be ridden, you'd let him stay? Here, in the stables? Would that be…satisfactory?"
He smiled, not a real smile, but a feral grin, "You may have until the day of the fair, three days in total this one included, in which to prove him worth while." He proclaimed.
This time Sarah did growl "Impossible! It's too little time!"
"If I gave you the rest of eternity it would make no difference. That horse will never be ridden. You have my answer Sarah. It is final."
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The next morning Justine met her at the front of the barn. "Come on," she said, grabbing Sarah by the wrist and leading her inside, "You're gonna help me feed."
"But I thought the feed room was that-"
"This is a short cut!" Justine said in an exasperated tone. It's faster to duck through the tack room than to go all the way around the barn and, gods-! Why am I explaining this? Come on!"
Justine led her through the door at what Sarah had thought was the back of the barn. Instead of coming out into the back paddock, she found herself in a large tack room, filled with saddles of all shapes and sizes, pads, bridles, and of course the piles of leather scraps that seemed to accumulate in every tack room over time.
Sarah paused to admire one particularly nice one.
"Whose saddle is this?" Sarah asked, reverently running a finger over the fine tooling of the leather. "It's beautiful." And it was. It reminded her of a cross between a modern English saddle and the pictures of jousting saddles she'd seen in history books, with dark beautiful leather, and oak leaf patterns for the tooling.
Justine froze.
"It-it belonged to a girl who…lived here." She stammered after a few moments. "It was hers while she stayed at the castle."
Sarah frowned, wondering why the question had upset her so, "So where is she now?"
"She-she died." Justine said plainly, her voice completely devoid of emotion, "a long time ago. It would be better if you didn't mention it to anyone else. No need to and such."
Sarah nodded. "So, what were you saying about the feed?"
Justine led her past the tack room into another smaller room filled with buckets and bottles of all sizes. Sarah didn't need to ask what was in them, she knew the smell of supplements no matter what world they were from.
"If you would fill these up while I bring in the mares it would cut our time in half. It's supper easy. The instructions are on all the buckets in that pile. Each horses name and beneath it a list of what they get and how many scoops. All the containers are labeled with what's in 'em so all you have to do if follow directions."
Sarah nodded. "I'm sure I can manage, what about the cart?"
"You know what feed looks like?" Justine asked.
"Yep. Sweet feed, all-stock, pellets, senior. I may not be much for magic but feed I can do."
Justine smiled, "Good. Cause I'm crap at it. I always wind up spilling shit everywhere. One purple bag in the cart for every orange one. Just fill it to the top."
Sarah smiled. "alright."
"Good. I'll leave you to it then…" Justine skipped back through the door, presumably to bring in the mares, leaving Sarah alone in the feed room with her thoughts.
It wasn't so different from feeding back home. The smell of hay dust and molasses hung thick and heavy in the air, tickling her nose and leaving her with a craving for cinnamon that she could never explain. She had always like the way feed felt in her hands, the heavy weight of it, the way it was always cool to the touch, even on the hottest summer days.
The oats and flaxseed were her favorites; they looked almost like water the way they moved in the bags when she scooped out the servings. It was nice to sit here, not having to concentrate on anything but the supplements; no magic, no death, no weight-of-the-world problems. Just feed.
Pulling out a bucket with Cavalier's name printed on it in large looping hand, she leaned over to scoot the brewers yeast bucket closer to where she sat. It came easily, too easily. She lifted the lid. The bucket gave a puff of old powder but was otherwise empty.
"Damn," Sarah muttered, glancing about the room for more. She found none.
There was a canvas covered doorway in the far back corner of the room, Probably more in there. She thought to herself.
She ducked under the canvas…and froze.
Sarah stood as though rooted to the cobles, her gazing taking in the hundreds of pictures that lined the room. Large and small, some where abstracts of horses, others were minutely detailed, but it was the portraits that intrigued her most.
Some were the traditional oil portraits she expects, but others, strangely enough, were black and white photographs.
Most of the pictures were of Augusta and Jareth–obviously much younger–on various horses, or in exotic locales. Some were of people she'd never seen before, others of people who she somehow knew weren't really people, and one was a photograph of Augusta and a young girl who looked for all the world like a very young-very blonde-Kathy.
The girl smiled down from a saddle far to large for her, atop a great black horse whose reins Augusta held loosely for her. Both were smiling, and looked genuinely happy. Beneath the frame was a simple brass plaque: Lianna and Augusta, Cheval, summer 732
Lianna…. The name resonated within her, strangely familiar despite the fact she had never known anyone by that name. Perhaps one of the goblins had mentioned it? Sarah shook her head to clear it; whoever the girl was, she'd never seen her anywhere at the castle.
Augusta's daughter, maybe? She wondered. Strange then, that she never mentioned her…
Her earlier conversation with Justine sprang to mind,
"It belonged to someone who used to live here. It was hers while she stayed at the castle."
"So what happened to her?"
"She died." Justine said plainly. "A long time ago."
Justine was right…Probably best not to mention it. Grabbing the bucket of brewers yeast she ducked back into the main feed room to finish with the buckets.
She was so utterly engrossed in her task, she didn't notice when Jareth slipped in behind her. He stood, leaning on the door frame, his arms crossed over his chest, watching her work. She swayed slightly back and forth to her own rhythm, never breaking her stride, one scoop, two scoops, one scoop, two scoops. He found the movements almost hypnotic in a way. She seemed so at home here, her long hair was unbound-there had been no time to rebraid it-and from where she sat it fell nearly to the small of her back, swaying along with her movements. He noticed that it was exactly the same shade of deep, almost burgundy, brown as the sweet feed.
She paused, hand frozen mid-air, as her eyes scanned the corner for the bottle she need. "Damn. I just saw it, too…" Sarah muttered to herself.
Jareth smirked. He leaned over, reaching above her shoulder from behind to pull the bottle she'd been hunting for from one of the shelves. He couldn't help it. He could resist the change to get that close to her, to take in that peculiar scent that was all her own; fruit and feed and hay dust all mixed in together to form something else.
He was close enough that she could feel the heat of him scorching her through their clothing, and then there was that damned scent, sandalwood and rain and the woods just after a storm–No! Bad Sarah! She gave herself a mental shake as he proffered the bottle in question. "Was this what you were searching for?" he asked innocently, his lips inches from her neck.
Hmm…lips…NO!
She snatched the bottle from him, more abruptly than she'd intended, and whirled around to face him. "Thank you, but I'd prefer to get it myself." She snapped. He was such an asshole, but why did he have to be so…alright, I'll think it,…damn attractive? It wasn't fair…
If she hadn't known better, she might have noticed his smile fade at her harsh tone. But of course that wasn't the way things worked; he might unnerve her, but she didn't get to him…ever. The concept was as foreign to her as the far side of the moon.
"I was merely trying to help." He said softly.
"Yes. Good, thank you." Was it him or were her words a bit forced? He gave a mental shrug, "But I really don't need any help–Damn!" she swore as her hand slipped, scattering flaxseed over the floor, the tiny grains skittering in every direction. "See?!" She demanded, "I need to concentrate."
"Sarah-"
"Look, if you'd just leave me alone, I'd get this done a lot faster so I can go do whatever ridiculous thing it is you're going to ask me to go do. But until then, I've got to finish this before Augusta gets back, so if you won't go, can you at least be quiet?"
Horse stuck his head through the open window from the paddock outside to watch her with great interest.
To her great surprise, he was quiet for a few minutes as he leaned against the door frame, watching Horse watch her work. Sarah found that if she concentrated on the supplements–the yellow, fresh bread smell of the brewers yeast, the tang of flaxseed, the feel of the selenium as she carefully measured out each ration–she could almost forget that the Goblin King was standing not five feet from her. Almost…but not quite.
He wasn't so bad, when he was like this. Perhaps he would stay this way for a while.
"Well, as…fascinating…as observing you is, I have other business to attend to."
Sarah nodded understanding, never taking her eyes off the buckets.
As he strode to the door, Sarah entertained the hope that he would leave it at that, that they might have actually had a conversation without threats or insults or shouting. He paused and turned in the doorway and inwardly she cringed; apparently not.
"Oh, and Sarah? Don't forget our little wager; you only have until sundown tomorrow to prove that that horse is worth his weight…I'd hurry if I were you." With that he vanished, simply gone without even his customary puff of glitter.
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"She doesn't deserve him." Justine muttered. At that moment she lay sprawled on top of the hay bales in the loft, a strand of straw in her mouth. Technically she was 'taking inventory', in reality she had been attempting to take a nap when a forceful conversation had awakened her.
Augusta snorted from near the latter, nearly scaring Justine out of her skin, "Oh?" she asked, climbing into the loft, "And why is that, pray tell?"
"She's spoilt and selfish."
Augusta's grin only widened as the younger girl continued, "All he wants to do is make her happy, and all she does is shove him away with both hands. It's stupid. He loves her so much–and don't look at me like that, Gussy, anyone with eyes can see it–and she doesn't even care. She doesn't deserve him."
"And who would you think does?"
They both knew where the conversation was headed. When she was younger, Justine had had something of a schoolgirl crush on the Goblin King. "Don't be an ass, Augusta." Justine snapped, "You know what I mean."
"Fair enough, luv, fair enough. Well, I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but love is rarely lavished on those who deserve-or even want-it. You might not realize it, my dear, but real, true love leaves us little control over who its object will be. It just happens, hence the apt term 'falling' in love."
Justine sighed, "That's not the point. The point is that it's obvious; she couldn't miss it if she tried, so she could at the least make some kind of effort to be civil to him."
Gods! Augusta thought, If she could only think half as well as she rides… She didn't say it. Instead, she lowered herself down next to her charge, her tired muscles protesting as she did so. "Justine, it's-well, it's complicated, the relationship they have, well…" Could I possibly make this any worse? "…it became the only thing it could be. Just take it at that."
"I know!" Justine moaned, "Don't you think I know that? I still worry about him though, he'd worry himself sick over her if we'd let him. I just wish she'd make an effort, even if it is only to be friends. It's so effing obvious, it's-she's infuriating!"
Augusta smiled knowingly, "So you both keep telling me." She said dryly, "You liked her well enough yesterday, though."
"It's not that I don't, she's nice enough, and it's good to have someone to talk to. I just wish she'd wake up and see what's staring her in the face."
Justine let herself fall back on the hay, sending up a cloud of dust. Augusta bit back a sigh, "Honey, sometimes…Sometimes people don't do the things they should because they don't want anyone to know how badly they want to do them. Does that make sense?"
"No."
She snorted, plopping down on the hay next to Justine, "You're right. It doesn't make sense, does it?" Augusta said softly. Justine sighed; she knew what was coming, she'd set herself up for it fair and proper, "It doesn't make sense at all. It's…just the way that it is."
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"…sometimes people don't do things because they don't want anyone else to know…" Slowly, silently, Jareth turned and slipped back out the gate through which he had entered only moments before. It wasn't until he could no longer hear Augusta's voice that he released the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.
"…they don't want people to know how badly they want to do them…" His sisters words echoed over and over again in his mind, igniting a tiny spark of something he refused to name. Surely they didn't mean what he so desperately wanted them to. He was letting his own emotions tint them… Jareth ordered himself sternly not to think on it…if he allowed his mind to linger on the possible meaning of those words he would be unable to forget, and that would not do.
A small part of him acknowledged that the spark was hope. It was small and it was fragile, but it was hope and it refused to be ignored. He quickly strangled that notion. Hope was dangerous; it would only invite more wounds that he could very well do without.
Even still, the unnamed thing made breath come short in his chest, and set his pulse to beating faster. Augusta was an empath, true enough, it was why she was such a good emissary when he had need of her. But she would never outright describe someone else's feelings without their express permission. She had reminded him of that fact-sometimes rather forcefully-enough times over the years for it to stick fast in his mind.
Ah, but it felt so damned good to hope, to dream-if only for the briefest of moments-perhaps just for now, just this one time, it wouldn't hurt to hope again.
He shook his head to clear it and gave himself a mental slap across the face. Perhaps a walk would clear his mind.
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All the leathers were in place, snaps snapped, buckles buckled, girth securely cinched and knotted. She had even managed to unearth a battered, albeit undeniably ancient, helmet from the dark recesses of the middle tack room, which was now strapped to her skull for what little protection it might offer. Everything was ready…or, as ready as it was likely to get at least.
She'd chosen an open field at the edge of the woods for their first ride. Reasoning that while he could certainly run away with her, there were no trees or fences-or concrete walls-in the immediate vicinity to be thrown against.
Sarah felt the nervous brush of butterfly wings in the pit of her stomach, and pointedly ignored the rational portion of her mind that was screaming for her to come to her senses and reconsider.
"Very well, if you're so very confident; you have until the day of the fair. If he can't work, he will be sold. It is as simple as that."
Just thinking about that conversation was making her angry all over again. She took a deep breath to steady her nerves and the horse looked back at her expectantly. Sarah smiled, "I suppose we'll have to find a name for you, won't we?"
He tossed his head in a mixture of approval and impatience. She'd never met an unnamed horse as old as he was before, all the foals she'd known back home had names by the end of their first month or so; once they'd had a chance to get to know the creatures personalities.
The photo from the feed room slid into her mind. Lianna and Augusta, Cheval, summer 732...
Why not?she wondered, You certainly look enough like him...
"Well? how about it? Shall we name you Cheval?"
Another toss of his head. Sarah grinned at him, "Yes, yes, I know. I'm a slow, lazy human. Hurry up." There was no going back now. She had eliminated that option when she had told Jareth she could ride him.
With one hand still on the reins, she slapped the sides and top of the saddle, making as much noise as possible. Despite what she'd expected, he didn't shy away from the sound or the pressure. She desided to take it as a good omen.
"...that horse will never be ridden..."Sarah shuddered; riding a crazy horse was what had put her in this position in the first place, and here she was about to walk right into the same wall for a second time...
"It's my own fault she muttered." She took the reins in one hand, grabbing a hunk of mane and lifting her foot to the stirrup, her work-sore muscles protesting loudly. "If I hadn't opened my big fat mouth we wouldn't be here in the first place."
She bounced awkwardly on one leg, once…twice…thrice, then swung her leg over as she threw herself up onto the saddle.
She could feel the big stallion trembling beneath her, his muscles coiled tightly as any spring, as if at any moment he might explode into violent action. In truth, that was exactly what she was expecting. She waited for it. It was the moment she'd been dreading; she'd done everything in her limited power to prepare him but when push came to shove, Cheval would have to make the final choice on his own; to trust her…or not.
She wasn't sure which would be more frightening. Sarah knew perfectly well that once he'd set his mind to getting her off his back she wasn't going to be able to stay on. If he wanted her off she would wind up in the dirt. Simple as pie. Of course, pie was not nearly as frightening as the thought of being thrown off the huge horse she was currently astride.
Sarah waited for the explosion, wondering how long she'd last when it came–just because it wasn't going to prevent anything in the long run, didn't mean she wasn't going to try- but it never did.
He stood, trembling, knees locked, nostrils blowing, head in the dirt; literally shaking with the effort of controlling the overwhelming instinct to run. Sarah picked up the reins and he started violently, but stayed put, shaking even harder, if that was possible. She realized suddenly that he was waiting for her to strike him. She let out the breath she'd been holding and let the reins go slack again, stroking his sweaty neck.
"Shhh. You're alright, boy. No one's going to hurt you now. Poor thing," she crooned, "You're terrified aren't you? Imagine, a great big thing like you being scared of a little-bitty thing like me…" she spoke softly, slowly. Letting him hear the reassuring sound of her voice, giving him something to focus on. Little by little, his trembling ceased, his muscles relaxed and, finally, he dropped his head to graze.
Sarah smiled. She had him. "Alright buddy. You've had your break; time to go to work." She whispered, "We're just going to go for a little walk…"
If she had been expecting the rough, choppy movements of a green-broke youngster, Sarah was sadly mistaken. It was evident within his first few steps that Cheval had been, not just trained, but very well trained at some point. He had always been arrogant, and it showed when he moved, he trotted as though he had no use for gravity and if she hadn't heard the grasses crunching softly beneath his feet, she would have sworn they were floating.
His gait, though smooth, was large and fast, as though he were in a great hurry to get where they were going and get it over with. Sarah asked for a circle and smiled as he curveted obediently beneath her hand. Someone-she hadn't any idea who, but someone-had put a lot of work into him and even now, after so many years, the quality of that work shone through.
She squeezed her legs again, and Cheval leapt forward into a canter. It was wonderful, big and fast and rocking horse smooth. If she so much as twitched a hand he moved, and Sarah smiled when she realized that he was changing leads every time they changed direction.
He jumped up once, of his own accord; not quite a real buck, as if to say 'Oh, it feels so good to run again!" They had almost made a complete circuit of the field when Sarah noticed the log. It was a tree really, old and worn, no doubt felled in some past great storm. It lay on its side in the center of the field. A grin spread across her face; why not? He seemed to know how to do everything else…
His head came up, ears pricking forward as she lined him up with the jump. He knew what was coming, and she felt him tuck his nose and collect, even as he sped his pace. She watched the felled tree coming nearer, counting down his strides in her head, and three…two…one...Now! She gave him a last squeeze as he lifted, launching himself–and her–up and over with surprising ease.
Definitely well trained… she thought triumphantly.
She had completely failed to notice the figure several yards away avidly watching her progress, which was probably a good thing; she'd never been at her best with an audience, much less one as unnerving as the Goblin King.
Jareth watched as they cleared the jump easily, landing several feet further away than he had expected. He had to admit, that monster did have something to him, a steely determination that showed even through all the dust and grime. He watched the girl slow him to a walk. She was grinning madly, her face flushed from excitement instead of fear, her hair tousled from the ride. She was probably the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.
She let the reins go slack, leaning forward to scratch behind his ears, her arms encircling his sweaty neck in praise, and Jareth couldn't help but smile along at how happy she was. He stepped out of the shadows and into her view, and his smile faded just a bit as he watched her form stiffen when she saw him.
"Well, well, well." He said dryly, "What have we here?"
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(A/N) Sooo??? What do you think?! I hope everybody likes the name. I'm really, really sorry I haven't updated in so long, but I had a really good excuse! (four-count them FOUR!- new foals at the barn I work at-and we've still got three more to go:D :::grins madly::: ) SO since I gave you a nice long chapter you should READ&REVIEW me cause you know that's what I live for. Also check out my other new story Rainbow Skittles. (it has no reviews so far and is feeling left out. Lol)