(A/N) - Alright, people, here you go- 25 freakin' pages in size 11 font. It's my apology for taking so long to update last time…I realize the chapter before this may have seemed a bit rushed. Well, that's because it was. It was one of those times when I wanted to just hurry up and get where I'm going. If you don't like it, well, frankly, you're not alone. (it will eventually be redone, but not just now.)
DISCLAIMER: Let me see, Augusta; mine, Justine; mine,…Jason mine….Oh, hang on. What's this? Labyrinth…not mine….
OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO
CHAPTER IX - The Spiral ProperParchments were piled in five groups of varying heights on Jareths' desk; Fix-it-now, This-can-wait, Taken-care-of, Too-depressing-to-contemplate, and Don't-make-me-laugh. A six collection, recently delivered by a blue coated librarians' assistant, waited on a chair nearby; To-be-sorted. That pile was twice as tall as the others.
Jareth threw the papers a dour glare. If his gift had been of that nature, the entire stack would have ignited, but it wasn't, so it didn't, and that meant he had to do something about it.
Well, he'd been 'doing something' about the sorry mess his so called kingdom was in since just before dawn, and he'd damned well had enough. His aching muscles as he levered himself out of his chair whole heartedly agreed with him.
In the stone-hewn chambers beneath the rock line, an ever present chill rolled off the walls, even during the hottest summer months. Caught without a cloak, he shivered. Jareth let his gave linger on the scenes laid out on the tapestried walls in painstaking detail, letting the colors sooth him. Cool greens and blues of the woods and oceans, rich reds, brilliant sunflower yellows, each stitch true to life, showing past hunts, memorable battles, banquets from a bygone era.
What he wouldn't give to be able to turn the clock for himself.
To go back that far. Life had been, well, if not simple, satisfying. There had been a certain security in knowing exactly what the future held, knowing that his life's course was already mapped and recorded.
But most of all there had been time. Limitless, abundant, blessed time. Time to do with as he pleased, time to pursue anything and everything, while Jason followed his own plans for the Kingdom. Oh, he was quite immortal, to be sure, but that sense of freedom, of being able to postpone the things he didn't want to face until a later date was gone.
Jareth sighed. Speaking of postponing trying ordeals, Sarah was due to arrive at any time. He had sent assistant librarian Greeves after her some time ago-no doubt the menial task had been passed off on some unsuspecting underling by now-but the message should have reached her none the less.
There at least was some light to this whole sorry business; with Sarah Williams at the castle, life may not have been simple, but at least it was no longer boring…
---------------------------------------------OoOoOoOoOoOoO----------------------------------------------
Sarah made her way slowly, with the utmost caution through the dusty paths between the shelves toward the corridor that Justine had pointed out. Dust bloomed under her foot falls, and that certain musty odor of books permeated the room. As she walked, her eyes roamed over the titles of the books she passed; Creatures by Malii, The Armethalian Almanac, and Gnome Magick were among the titles that caught her eye. Despite the wealth of intriguing titles, she kept her hands strictly to herself, taking care not to touch anything. Justines' words were still on her mind, and though the books look harmless, this was still the labyrinth; the only thing she could be sure of was that nothing was what it seemed.
The green carpet extended down the hall, which was curved just enough so that it was impossible to see where it ended or began once inside of it. Sarah rotated her shoulders, trying to work out the knot of tension that had formed between them. She could swear that someone was watching her, more so than simply Jareth spying, and more than once she thought she heard footsteps up a head, but the corridor remained empty.
As she began to wonder whether or not Justine had sent her down the wrong corridor, a large double door came into view on her right. The brass door knockers reminded her of the ones she'd seen in the labyrinth, but these knockers seemed to be inanimate.
Just as she was reaching for one of the rings, a shout bellowed out from just inside the doors. "Greeves! If you don't have that report ready there'll be hell to pay!" Sarah assumed it was Chief Librarian Daencielle.
"Do not keep me waiting, worm, for I am in a foul mood! Get. In. Here!"
Before Sarah had time to wonder what was happening, one of the doors swung open and she found herself hustled inside by the scruff of her collar more quickly than she would have thought possible.
A sturdy, gray hair woman shoved a stack of papers into her arms without looking at Sarah herself. "What in Gods names do you think you're playing at Gree-Oh dear."
Daencielle cut herself off mid-sentence, realizing that it was not her useless assistant Greeves who'd been standing outside her door, but a human girl would could only be the Girl; Sarah Williams. She released her hold on the girls' arm, removing her of the papers which she'd shoved at her. "Oh, so sorry my dear. I mistook you for someone you are not."
Sarah nodded quickly, "No, no. It's fine."
"Yes, well, I'm sure it is. Is there something I can do for you, girl?" Daencielle said over her shoulder, straightening the papers, she moved back behind a large, oak paneled desk and began to file them back into the multitude of other such stacks.
Sarah got the impression that the Chief was the sort of person who hated to waste time.
"Are you Chief Daencielle?"
Sarah glanced over the desk that stood between them, it piled high with inventories, books, and the remains of that mornings' breakfast left half eaten on the brass tray on which it had been brought. Next to the tray rested a silver bladed sword, unsheathed, the hilt within easy reach of Daencielle's hand.
"I am. What is it that you need?"
"I'm supposed to report to Jareth in his study in the Spiral Library, but I didn't know the way so Justine sent me to you.
Daencielle paused. "So, you wish to enter the Spiral." It was not phrased as a question.
Though she was only slightly taller than Sarah herself, and separated by the desk, the Fae woman seemed to loom over the younger girl. Her eyes were a brilliant platinum blue, while her hair was the soft grey of cooling ash. Other than that, there was nothing about her to suggest she was anything other than the bloom of adulthood, yet Sarah guessed that she was meeting one of her first 'older' immortals.
She had a voice that Sarah would definitely have put into the no-nonsense category back home. "Well, I'm just trying to get to Jareths' study, but if its-"
Daencielle continued as though she hadn't spoken, "But are you suitable? There has never been a mortal within the halls of the Great Spiral for more than ten centuries…What makes you think you should be allowed to enter?"
Inwardly, Sarah groaned. She had the feeling that it was going to be one of those terribly exhausting days that went on forever.
"Well, I solved the labyrinth." she supplied hopefully.
"Yes, yes, I suppose you did…" Daencielle mused. She laid her hand on the hilt of the sword and for a moment Sarah thought she would wave it around to see if it frightened her.
Sarah was already frightened, though she did her utmost to hide it. The librarian scared her, even without the sword. Her face gave away no hint of emotion beyond mild curiosity and she moved with a certain economy of force as though at any moment she might explode into violent action.
"Are you suitable…?" Daencielle repeated.
She came out from behind her desk, so fast that Sarah wondered if she'd blinked and missed the movement. "We have never had a mortal in the Great Spiral Library." she said, looking Sarah over from head to foot. "But then again, you are no ordinary mortal girl. You are the mortal who solved the mystery of the Labyrinth."
Sarah nodded mutely. Whatever Daencielle was getting at, she wanted no part of it.
"So, you are a mystery." Daencielle smiled, "And there is no better place for a mystery than the Spiral Library; better to be a scholar than a part of the collection, I suppose."
Sarah chuckled nervously, "True. Does..does that mean I'm suitable?"
Daencielle answered with a wicked, feral grin, "We'll just have to see about that, won't we?" She laid the sword back in its place atop her desk, and motioned to the door, "Come, Jareth will be expecting you, and it would be best not to keep him waiting."
Daencielle ushered her down the main tunnel, or at least Sarah assumed it was the main tunnel; it was certainly the largest of those she had seen, and deeper into the spiral. Though they passed several doors that looked promising, but each one was blocked off by red rope and a wax seal stamped with a griffon.
Daencielle ignored the doors, completely focused on reaching her destination, her long, ground eating stride meant that Sarah was nearly running to keep pace with her. Despite her small statue the older woman practically oozed confidence, and Sarah felt more secure with Daencielle in the dim bowels of the castle then she had wandering the halls near her room on her own.
As Sarah began to wonder just how far down Jareth's study really was, Daencielle paused in front of a seemingly unremarkable, plain wooden door.
Was this it? The door was of average size, with a simple brass handle and door knocker. No window, no intricate designs…surely his own study would merit double doors at the least; Sarah had never know Jareth to understand the meaning of moderation.
"This is Jareth's study?" She asked, wondering if it lead to another corridor instead.
Daencielle gave a curt nod. "It is. If his Majesty isn't here, he'll be along shortly. If that is all you required, I've got work to attend to."
---------------------------------------------OoOoOoOoOoOoO----------------------------------------------
(A/N -Mixing it up a bit, this is in Kathy's POV)
Kathy opened the door of Lynn's old dually pickup, the unmistakable scent of horse hitting her nose and sighed. Gods-! But it was good to be home. As she stepped out of the truck, the plastic brace that the hospital had provided her with, dug into her side, protesting the speed and dexterity the movement required.
"Damn."
"Don't curse." Lynn chided, coming around to pull Kathy's single suitcase out of the back seat for her. "I know it's a pain, but you've got to wear it."
"Why? We both know I don't need the damn thi-"
"Don't curse! Kathy, I know that, and you know that, but the rest of the world can't know that. So you're stuck with it. Period. Now, come on, I can think of a few folks who're dying to see you!" Lynn headed off down the gravel drive in the direction of the barns. Kathy knew Lynn was thinking of more horses than people, she usually did.
Mentally cursing the inventor of plastic, she turned and started to follow her-slowly-down the road. With each step the brace pinched her, digging into her flesh and reminding her that she was required to play the invalid. Kathy growled; she hated being sick.
Well, no that wasn't entirely true. She'd never been sick for more than a day in her life so she'd never had the opportunity to know if she really disliked it or not. Unfortunately, when she was diagnosed with things such as strep throat, chicken pox and the flu, she was then required to be 'sick' for the usual duration of such illnesses. Which was invariably torture.
She couldn't begin to imagine how mortals dealt with the real thing, and was immensely grateful that she'd never had to find out.
Kathy set out down the road with renewed determination; the more she looked like she was getting better, the sooner she would be able to 'get better'. She was so engrossed in her tasked that she nearly walked head first into Mark, the resident groom, as he came out of the office.
"Kathy?" Mark grinned down at her from behind a mop of sandy brown curls. He was a good foot and a half taller than Kathy herself and had the build of your average tank. "Kathy!"
Before she could object, he'd swept her up into a bone crushing hug that robbed her of breath and caused the accursed brace to scream in protest. "You're back!" Mark shouted, spinning her in a circle. "And you're alive! Did you know that means I won the bet?"
"Ouhh" it was all she could manage with him crushing her ribs.
"Oh shit! Sorry Kat!" He set her down, remembering that she was, supposedly, recovering from severe spinal injuries. "You okay?"
"Yeah." she grinned, "I'm fine, I feel loads better just getting home. Hey, do you know if Sarah's around? She owes me for all those long visits she didn't give me."
"What'd you mean? I'm not sure I follow."
"Ha ha. Funny, Mark, so very, very funny. You know, you could just say she's not back yet." Kathy said, still grinning. She wasn't sure what story Lynn had given them when Sarah had disappeared, but hopefully he'd let something slip and she could go from there.
"Kathy, what are you talking about? Sarah didn't go anywhere. She's still at her Dads house for spring break. You sure you didn't crack your head when that colt threw you?"
The joy she had felt at coming home promptly evaporated. Sarah hated staying with her parents, and avoided it whenever possible. Kathy had known her to beg a sleeping bag and a corner from Lynn when she came home on the weekends to avoid dealing with Karen.
"Yeah…yeah, I don't what I'm talking about. Hey, I better get going. Lynn wanted to show me something. I'll see you around okay?"
"Yeah, later." he jogged off toward the hay barn on some unknown errand and Kathy waited until he turned the corner before she let her smile fade. Like the stablemen and handlers who'd taught her she colored the air with a string of curses that would make a soldier blush.
Sarah had never come back from her little chat with Jareth.
The weight of that knowledge hit her gut like a swallowed stone. Of course they didn't know where Sarah was, in all likelihood they'd never even realized she was gone. Nor would they.
She'd been able to lie to herself while she was still in the hospital; Sarah was a busy girl, she'd find time to visit eventually, or so Kathy had assured herself. But now, seeing everyone going on with their lives as though she'd never existed at all, cemented the knowledge that Sarah was really and truly gone.
"Come on Kat!" Lynn's voice sounded from down the hill, "Don't you want to come see your boy? He missed you!"
She forced a smile from her face, visiting Comanche would have to wait, he'd understand, just then she had bigger fish to fry. "Not just now!" she shouted, "I'm a little tired. I think I'll head home." without waiting for a response she limped off towards the house, cursing the brace that made every step a chore, and cursing Lynn for insisting she play along and wear it like they asked. Not like she needed the blasted thing.
When she caught up with him, a certain Goblin King was going to have a lot of explaining to do…
Kathy made her way-slowly-to the north barn. As she walked she kept a purposeful expression on her face; if anyone asked she was to retrieve a file from storage for Lynn. That should buy her enough time…
Though the second story of the barn where the offices had once been housed was wooden and fairly new, it had been built on an older stone structure that had stood there before Lynn had owned the land. It was that section of the barn that Kathy was concerned with now.
When the new barn was built a few years before, the north barn had fallen out of use. Now it served as an oversized storage unit for files, old saddles, boxes of anything and everything, and was rarely used. This suited Kathy perfectly. Even on the short walk over here, she'd begun to loose her nerve and she knew that if anyone interrupted her she'd never be able to go through with her plan.
Not that I have much of an actual plan… she thought sourly. She had long ago decided that detailed plans were of no use whatsoever; they only served to complicate things when something went wrong, so she didn't usually make one, but just then she wondered if it might be nice to have a virtual road map of her intentions, just to give her a little extra confidence.
The doors to the barn, both front and back, were locked as they usually were, and Kathy swore when she remembered that her key ring was sitting back at the house. No matter.
The window she picked was large enough for her own tiny frame to squeeze through, but only just, and the sill was nearly eight feet off the ground. Who would bother to lock such a window? Someone who had no idea of what an excellent climber their niece was, luckily for Kathy. A bit of searching produced a metal feed bin, empty now, and more than tall enough to give her a boost. She inverted it beneath the window, careful not to crush the plants and give away what she'd done, before climbing on top.
Standing on the bin, her feet crushing down on the flexible lid, Kathy was more than tall enough to tug open glass. It slid away noiselessly, only a cloud of dust to mark the movement, and she slid inside, her landing muffled by the plush throw rug left there by Kathy herself for just that purpose.
Kathy winced as the cursed brace dug into her side and hip, reminding her of her supposed 'injury'. Growling, she ripped open the velcro an stuffed the contraption behind a filing cabinet with a silent curse to whomever had come up with such an infernal idea.Why Lynn had insisted on having her wear the thing was entirely beyond her.
She slid the window closed, locking it this time to be sure no one else tried the same approach and interrupted her when they oughtn't, and stalked off towards the back stairs. Her footfalls seemed unnaturally loud in the gloom, raising plumes of dust from the plush rug. Kathy snorted; a nice rug in a horse barn-what nonsense!
She made her way through the halls, her hands trailing along the intricate masonry, leaving finger trails in the dust that had settled on the minute carvings. It was those carvings that brought her to this particular building. Raised long ago when such things were commonplace, caches-both large and small-had been built into the stone work, their doors guarded by ancient mechanisms that miraculously continued to work, though Kathy was sure they hadn't been oiled in at least a decade. From the base of the back stair, it took her only a few moments to reach her destination; a small storage room on the basement level, home to a multitude of filing cabinets, boxes, and other such junk that accumulated in all business storage spaces over the course of time.
Kathy studied the carvings on the far wall, looking for the small sunburst that opened the compartment she needed and smiled when her fingers caught on it. It slid back noiselessly, activating the mechanism and taking nearly a square foot of the wall with it.
"When you said you were on your way home, you neglected to mention that the house in question was not the one which we normally occupy." Lynn's voice behind her, startled her nearly out of her skin. Kathy whirled around to face the woman who'd been much as a mother to her for the past decade.
Lynn sat, sprawled really, on a stack of boxes, still in the cutoff shorts she'd worn that morning, her usually animated face serene. Kathy hadn't even heard her enter. That was the problem with supernatural relatives, they might understand your problem, but they always complicated things.
Shit.
"Lynn! I-I wasn't…." she stumbled over the words in her mind, unable to make her thoughts make sense. Explanations had never been Kathy's forte and she knew she'd never be able to smooth talk her way out of this. She'd have to give Lynn something to harp on-something other than her true intentions-to sate her. "I didn't-"
"Think?" Lynn supplied, a wry grin on her face. "No. You didn't. But, no matter, you're in fine family tradition on that one, my girl, never you worry." She picked up a spare pony bit off one of the hooks on the wall, chipping away at the flecks of chewed grass left there by a previous recipiant. She stayed silent, Kathy knew that she was waiting for her to make the first move.
Lynn was very much like Jason in that; they never tried to force events with their power, they waited for them to develop on their own and reacted from there; she'd always found the pacifism to sweet for her tastes.
Well, if that was how she wanted it, fine; two could play at this game.
"Well, my dear? I expect you to at least try to throw me off the scent. Though I think we both know perfectly well that it won't work. Really, I'm hurt that you wouldn't come to me first…." Lynn smiled dryly, "I've always been understanding in the past, have I not?"
What little plan she had was forgotten, as Kathy felt anger, hot and demanding, ignite in her stomach. She knew. She had to have known all along, and she'd done nothing to stop it.
"I can smell their stink all over this!" Kathy hissed, the words dripping venom. "How could you Lynnie? You had to have known-! How could you let them take her?!"
"Are you so certain they took her by show of force?" Lynn slid down from her perch in one liquid movement. "Though that is their usual style as you well know."
"Oh, yes, I would know wouldn't I?" she spat, "But I know Sarah. She'd never go with him willingly. She'd fall on her own knife before she'd go to that bastard for help, and you know it."
"Do I now…"
"Lynnie, I should have been able to heal myself." Kathy said bluntly, "I've been hurt worse, you know that just as well as I do. I felt him, Lynnie, I felt him on the wind just before it happened."
Lynn sighed. She'd hoped to reason her out of this ridiculous plan, but-as per usual-Kathy would always be her own mule-headed, stubborn self. That was not to say that Lynn trusted Jareth as far as she could throw him, but she knew his weakness for the girl; he'd never harm her as Kathy implied.
"Oh, Kathy…"
"No! Don't Kathy me! I know what I felt! I'm not going to leave her with a monster who would do that to his own family! I'm going back, end of story. I'll go find Sarah, I'll bring her home, and be back before anyone knows what's happened, piece of pie."
"Piece of cake." Lynn corrected.
"Oh, whatever."
Lynn chuckled. Foolish child indeed if she thinks Jareth won't see this coming… she mused. "Well, you certainly get straight to the point-"
"And you skirt it!" Kathy snapped, "If you think I'm going to just sit back and let this happen-that I'd let him force her to take my place-then you really are as crazy as people say" Kathy bit her tongue even as the words poured out.
"And exactly what do they say?"
Fine. You want it that way-? Fine! "They call you the crazy old woman of Ivy-weed manor!"
Lynn was silent for a few moments, turning the bit over and over in her hands, her nimble fingers removing the dirt and grime caked into the crevices. She laughed again,
"And every bit of it's true, deary. I do live in this misbegotten, overgrown hovel, I am undeniably old, and opinions far more informed than yours have long since pronounced me quite mad. But that is quite another matter. No, Kathy, my dear. I don't expect you to sit back and let this happen. I know you to well for that. You're going to do whatever it is you're planning to do, regardless of what's said here…But do you know what the ironic part is? You are exactly like she was at your age."
"I am nothing like her." Kathy hissed, cold rage burning in her eyes,
Lynn only laughed, "That's right, deary, you just keep telling yourself that."
"Lynn I have to…" It should have been simplicity itself; a lie, just a little one, just enough to lay her suspicions to rest so that she'd leave her alone. But the very idea chaffed against her mind like rough sand on a burn. It was that sort of thinking, of rationalizing the little false hoods that she had found so foul about them. She had to believe she was better than that. " She wouldn't have gone to him, she'd have found some other way, Lynnie. This wasn't an accident!"
"Kathy, I'm not going to tell you to play it safe, because I know I'd be wasting my breath. Whether or not to do this thing in your head...well, it's your choice. I can't make it for you, so don't ask me to justify doing this. Either you will or you won't. But I'll tell you this. It isn't about anger or revenge or anything else, it's simple luv, when it comes down to it, it's about you being able to live with what you've done at the end of the day, because that is the only thing that matters."
Before Kathy could respond, she slipped out the door, closing it firmly behind her.
Well, that went about as well as a snowball fight in hell…
She sighed. She'd have time to patch things over with Lynn later. At the moment, her single concern was finding Sarah before she agreed to anything reckless. Kathy snorted, Oh yeah, as though Sarah Williams would ever do anything reckless…
Shaking her head, Kathy turned her attention back to the task at hand.
The older, stone wrought buildings, were full of such secret caches, two even boasted a hidden passage way to the edge of the grounds, or so Lynn had claimed. Despite many summer afternoons spent looking, Kathy had never been able to find the mechanism that opened those particular doors.
This cache was around the size of a bolt of cloth, and twice as deep. Lynn had shown her the mechanism that opened it years ago, giving her the compartment for her own personal use as a birthday gift.
With shaking hands, Kathy reached into the compartment, her fingers brushing over bits of this and that that her younger self had put there years ago. It wasn't those particular mementos of her past that she was after. Finally, her fingers closed around a small silk wrapped sphere no bigger than her own palm. Even through the fabric, she could feel the electric pulse of what was hidden beneath as she drew it slowly from the depths of the cache.
Kathy stared at the wad of material in her hands. It was a small thing really, the sort of thing that would hardly merit as second glance, but it sent shivers down her spine nonetheless as she peeled back the grey silk that hid it.
It was the first time she'd unwrapped the thing in over a decade, and the thick layer of dust that coated the fabric could attest that no one else had done so either. Slowly, Kathy peeled back the layers of cloth, revealing the perfect orb that she'd been looking for.
Even after so many years, the feeling of smooth crystal against her palm made her shudder. But this particular crystal was more than an ordinary bobble, it was a gateway of sorts. For someone who knew how to use it the crystal served as a link to the magick that permeated the Underground.
Taking a deep breath, Kathy stretched out her senses, opening herself to that magickal current.
It washed over her in a flood, threatening to consume her with that all encompassing, pervasive power. It was thick enough that Kathy was sure she could drown in it if she wasn't careful to keep her head. The magick lapped at her consciousness like waves on a rocky shoreline, testing for irregularities, weakness; a small crack, just enough to slip through and overpower her.
It wasn't supposed to be this way, it had never been like this before. Then again, she had never tried any magick of quite this magnitude before, either. Warming her toes on cold winter mornings and putting the kettle on without getting out of bed were hardly comparable to throwing herself headlong across the gap between the worlds.
Will a physical effort of will, Kathy opened her mind-carefully!-to the currents of magick that flowed through and from the perfect sphere. Letting the tingling, electric light of that power wash over her, she dipped into the endless flow, searching for the marks she needed to form the spell, drawing them into herself. All the marks she knew for breaking and parting, opening, crossing, unbarring and unlocking. They came into her mind in a flood, stronger than she'd ever felt before, brighter than the sun, so quickly that she was barely able to weave them together into the spell she'd chosen. It was one of great power, one that she'd never dared to try before now.
Finally the spell was ready, pent up inside her mind by her strength of will alone. What would have taken Jareth seconds, had taken her what seemed like a spattering of lifetimes, and Kathy knew the effect would never match the glamour with which her older-admittedly more practiced relatives-carried out the same task.
Not that it matters, not as though anyone's going to be there to meet me…
---------------------------------------------OoOoOoOoOoOoO----------------------------------------------
Sarah forced herself to knock softly at the door. If said knock wouldn't have served to drown out a pin dropping, well, that was hardly her fault. Actively seeking out the king of the Goblins was almost as foolish as inviting disaster incarnate to spend the weekend at one's home. Alone. With matches and gasoline and a sign that read 'play with me!'. There was no answer to her knock, and Jareth himself did not appear, so trying to find her way back to her own room seemed the best plan. Before she could turn, however, the door swung open to rest slightly ajar before her in an obvious invitation…
How often had she wondered about what went on inside Jareths' mind over the years? There was little she wouldn't have given for the chance to pick his brain without his knowing it, and now that opportunity was all but slapping her in the face. It was, after all, his own private study; surely there had to be something left there that would give her some clue as to what his intentions were.
Glancing over her shoulder to be sure the coast was still clear, Sarah pulled the door open, just wide enough for her slender frame to slip through, and shut the door softly behind her. She paused long enough to check the handle and assure herself that she hadn't been locked in before turning to survey her surroundings.
The room was lined on three sides with large wooden book shelves and glass fronted cases displayed strange artifacts, a statue here, a crystal, a colorful goblet; nothing that told her much about anything. The other wall was taken up with a large, cluttered desk. Sarah figured that was as good a place as any to start. Most of it was paperwork, an order for thus and so, a few that she assumed were bills, notices of protest, requests and such. Things about his kingdom, but nothing that told her about Jareth as a person.
Her eyes settled on a small, wire bound book. A sketch book?
As she flipped open the cover, Sarah realized it was just that. She also noted, studying a detailed drawing of the labyrinth, that he was extremely talented.
Sarah surpressed a giggle, she'd never have thought he had the patience. She flipped through the pages, the goblin city, Augusta riding, the stables, a stack of books, little snapshots of his life as though he hadn't had time to devote to a more complete image.
She turned the page again and froze, staring at the image. It was…her. A determined grin on her face, as she bent forward at the hips, waging her finger at Cheval who was in the midst of stamping and snorting at her in his stall. The pose was so lifelike, he must have been watching her that first day. She flipped through a few more pages; Justine, sleeping in the hay loft, far younger than she was now, a picture of Jareth himself, a hunt scene…Sarah again, this time asleep, in her bed back at her fathers house.
She sighed, closing the sketch book. Sarah wanted to feel angry, he'd obviously been spying on her, but all she could manage was guilty. After all, she could hardly be angry at him seeing as how she'd never have know if she hadn't been snooping in this things…
The rest of his desk was covered in stacks of paperwork, some stamped with the griffon seal that she'd seen repeated in the library. Something moved, ever so slightly, in the corner of her vision and Sarah turned to see Jareth, lounging on a leather couch behind her. His legs were sprawled out across the carpet, on hand on his chest the other propped behind his head. He was apparently sleeping, but Sarah couldn't be sure.
She waved her hand at him, walking closer, but it elicited no response, and she decided that he really was napping.
She took a moment to study his features as she never would have when he was awake, her eyes tracing the curve of his jaw, the line of his brow and that wild platinum hair that actually suited him.
Sarah had already seen enough of the Underground to know that the most dangerous things sometimes came in the most beautiful packages. There, alright, I thought it! She gave a mental sigh. There was really no denying it; Jareth was without a doubt the most gorgeous male she'd ever met, though she'd sprout wings and fly before she'd admit as much to him.
He was dressed less formally then he'd been when she'd seen him last, in a simple white poets shirt that hung open revealing lines of muscle beneath his alabaster skin and dark grey breeches that left very little to the imagination, and of course, Jareth would never be complete without his customary riding boots and gloves.
She also noted the addition of a sword, anchored to his left hip. This struck her as odd. He'd appeared before her in semi-armored outfits before, but somehow Sarah couldn't picture Jareth actually wielding a sword as a necessary weapon. She'd always imagined him using his magick instead.
She stepped closer, peering at the design on the ball of the hilt. She was so engrossed in it, that she failed to notice his eyes were now open, and studying her intently.
"My sword." he said, causing her to jump.
"Oh, I-uh…"
"It's quite alright, you're welcome to look."
Sarah glanced up at him just as his lips began to twist into a smirk.
"I already know the joke you're going to make, so don't bother saying it." She said dryly, her treacherous mind supply a wealth of gutter-humor for just that situation.
"Wicked creature. I've no idea what you're talking about." He insisted, a feline grin on his face.
"Oh-for God's sake-Do you ever stop?"
"Well, I'm told I have wonderful stamina-"
Too old to stick out her tongue at him, Sarah settled for rolling her eyes.
"Sarah, my dear, Justine mentioned that you seemed…preoccupied these past few days. Tell me, love, what troubles you?"
Sarah felt a little taken aback at that. Did he really expect her to just pour out her woes like he'd always been her bestest buddy?
"You are worried about your friend, Kathy, are you not?"
Damn.
Kick me while I'm down why don't you?
Sarah sighed, "Well, yeah, if you must know. She was in really bad shape when I left, in case you hadn't guessed."
He gave her a quizzical look, "As I said, it was taken care of."
"I still worry, Jareth. I can't help it. She's my best friend."
Sarah couldn't begin to guess why she felt compelled to tell him this, but she had to admit, being able to talk-even if it was to the subject of many of her nightmares-was a relief.
"Is that why you were so willing to take her place?"
"She's the first person, the only person, who's ever really understood me. With Kathy, what you see is what you get. She's real and she doesn't play games like most girls do. She can be strange, but she's kind and thoughtful. She's the kind of person who would give you the shirt off her back if you asked for it."
He turned the brandy glass slowly in his hands, "You speak as though you feel somewhat responsible for what took place, yet from what I understood, the blame was her own."
Sarah sighed, "That's not it. Yeah, I guess technically I didn't force her to get on the horse, but I sure didn't try to stop her either. I knew he was trouble, Jareth, even Lynn said so and she adores difficult horses-it's practically a sport for her! I still went along with it…God-! It was like in those sappy dramatic movies, I could see it coming but it was like I was running in slow motion, she was speeding up and I was slowing down. I couldn't move, I couldn't yell, I couldn't get there fast enough…" Sarah could hear her voice cracking, but the words continued to pour from her lips, "…I tried to get to her!- there was just no time. She-she hit the concrete-it made the most horrible cracking noise…"
With a jolt of surprise, Jareth realized that she had described his reaction to watching her and Cheval nearly word for word. Seeing her vulnerable like that, brought out something deeply protective in him. Some long sleeping creature that a hundred millennia of Fae generations still couldn't breed out of the male persona raised its head and growled mine!
Silently, Jareth contemplated the merits of killing the troublesome beast that had caused all this, but judging from her reaction to Cheval, he doubted it would comfort her.
On some deep, rational, level Sarah's brain noted calmly that if this went on she would go into shock all over again. But she couldn't force herself to stop. On a very deep level, she also noted that she was leaning on Jareths' shoulder, his arm around her, but then again, who knows you better than your worst enemy?
However she refused to accept that burrying her face in his shirt felt even half as good as it did, and calmly told herself it was the shock of reliving past traumas.
"When I got to the hospital..they said…She-she was in the ICU. They were giving Lynn some bullshit line about we've done everything we can-it was like a death sentence…I didn't even have a plan. I saw the book sitting on my table at home and I thought about what you said about re-ordering time. I called you more out of instinct than planning."
Jareth smiled, pleased that in her need he had been the one she turned to. That she had done so out if instinct didn't bother him at all. "Well, I'm certainly glad that you did, my dear."
Sarah snorted, wiping at her eyes as she moved away to a safe distance. "Yeah, I'll just bet you are."
"Sarah, love, you wound me. I've truly enjoyed your company over the past week, I'm looking forward to the rest of our time together." Try as she might Sarah couldn't find anything that more hinted vaguely at the inappropriate in his words. That alone put her on edge. Jareth was the worlds biggest flirt, somehow he always managed to twist her words into some ridiculous double entendre.
"Why does that not comfort me?" she muttered, smiling despite herself.
"My dear Sarah, are you suggesting that I make you uncomfortable?" he asked innocently, the glint in his eyes shouting that he knew the answer perfectly well.
"Why Jareth, what a thought!" Sarah exclaimed, sarcasm dripping from her words, "It's not as though you've ever done anything that might make me uncomfortable!"
Was she imagining things, or was she actually flirting with the Goblin King?
Jareth leaned closer to her, and she slid farther back on the couch, feeling the arm pressing into the small of her back and effectively cutting off her retreat. "Now Sarah, how exactly have I made you…uncomfortable…" Sarah couldn't bring herself to meet his eyes, she could feel the heat of his body even through their clothes, making her own shiver agreeably.
He moved closer still, "My dear, if there is anything I can do to make your stay more enjoyable…I would be more than happy to be of service."
Sarah mentally cursed her own pale skin, knowing she was blushing from head to toe. Normally she was calm and collected, but Jareth could always bring out the worst sort of flustered, blushing school girl in her.
She forced herself to look up at him, and mismatched eyes studied her own. Come on Williams, say something!
"You could stop doing that and tell me what you wanted to talk to me about." she forced the words out of her mouth with supreme effort of will. Yes! Good! I knew there was a reason I took drama junior year! Just like that, the embers that smoldered in his eyes were gone, replaced with the usual cool smirk.
"As you like." he rose in one fluid movement, offering his hand to help her off the couch. Sarah ignored the proffered hand and jumped up on her own, not trusting herself to touch him.
Don't go there Williams….
"You wanted to talk to me about something?" she said. The leather of her own shoes had become intensely fascinating.
"Ah yes. I had almost forgotten." he seated himself behind the desk, pulling one of the papers in front of him. "As you may know, the Great Fair is due to begin tomorrow. No doubt you have plans to attend with Justine and Augusta in the morning,"
Sarah ground her teeth. This was it, the part where he'd come up with some daunting task for her to stop her from going.
"That should be fine. Go…enjoy…yourself in the morning. But you will return by mid afternoon to the castle. Tomorrow evening there shall be a ball, to celebrate the opening of the Fair, as is tradition. You, my dear, will attend with me, as my escort. I feel no need to inform you that throughout the night, you will treat me and my guests with respect, you will be every bit the beautifully behaved, charming young woman that I'm sure you can be."
Sarah's thoughts flew to memories of the last ball she'd attended with the Goblin King, even if it had been a dream, she remembered it all too vividly. Somehow she had the feeling that attending a real ball with him, as his designated dating service no less, would be even more trying, but she couldn't see a feasible way out of it…
"I would…but…"
Come on, Sarah, you can do this! Just think, there's got to be a hundred reasons you can't go.
"…But I don't have anything to wear."
It was really pathetic as reasons went, but it was the first thing that had come to mind. Jareth smiled, all his concentration seemingly focused on the paperwork in front of him.
"No need to worry about that, love, Augusta will find you something suitable to wear." he assured her, still without so much as glancing in her direction.
"I thought the fair wasn't about status?"
Jareth smirked at her from over his paper work, "The fair is. The ball, however, is not--damn!" He swore and the quill dribbled ink over the seal he'd been placing, leaving thick, spreading blotches.
"As I said, Augusta will make the arrangements for you. That will be all, Sarah." he dismissed her with a flippant wave of his hand.
What do I look like-? An escort service?! Just call me up and I'm ready to go? She almost said it aloud, but that image of Kathy swam in her vision again, reminding her to keep her mouth calm and well mannered, no matter how much she'd like to say otherwise.
"That's it?" Suitable. Demanding, but suitable.
"Uh, yes. Yes, that will be all. Now, although it would be simple to assume otherwise, there is actually a considerable amount of paperwork and tedious bureaucracy that comes with the running this kingdom, and I actually do need to get back to it."
Sarah knew a dismissal when she heard one, and she choked back her angry retort in favor of finding the door.
---------------------------------------------OoOoOoOoOoOoO----------------------------------------------
"Oh. My. God."
It was really the only thing Sarah could say as she studied herself in the full length mirror in Augusta's rooms. Her face warred between absolute amazement and utter horror, which would probably have looked comical if it had been someone else wearing the vile thing that Jareth had the nerve to call a ball gown.
That was not to Say that it was ugly, per say. And if she was pressed, Sarah would have to admit that the color was actually quite beautiful. The gown itself was a dusty blue color where it began-off the shoulder, naturally-and slowly deepened to a dark midnight hue at the hem. It had been fitted with a corset that was purposefully open in the back, even when tied, revealing a good portion of her back, while…ahem…accenting certain other assets nearly to the point of indecency. The skirt itself was actually quite nice, Sarah had always liked clothing with a little weight to it, but the slit in the side that extended to upper mid thigh more than she was willing to put up with.
Sarah Williams was the sort of person who, for the most part, was comfortable in her own skin and she knew exactly how much of that skin she would be comfortable showing. This gown crossed so many lines she hardly knew where to begin.
She turned to Augusta, who'd been sitting on a lounge chair in the corner watching Sarah's reaction with interest, a look of helpless shock on her face. Augusta gave her a sort of grimacing smile.
"You don't like it." She said blandly. She'd lived with Jareth long enough to recognize the signs of an impending explosion when she saw them.
"Like it?! It's ridiculous! I might as well go naked!! If he thinks I'm wearing this then he's lost his marbles-! I look like a medieval hooker!" she fumed. "Good God-! I cannot believe I actually agreed to this!"
"So…you'd prefer something else." Augusta kept her voice neutral. Though she would have liked to be able to defend her brother, if for no other reason than the fact that he was her brother, she had to agree with Sarah. He'd known exactly what he was doing when he selected the dress.
"YES! Yes, I think you could definitely say I'd prefer something different!!"
"Very well, dear. I'll speak with him." From the look in the girls' eyes Augusta had the feeling that if she saw Jareth just then, then she'd be called on to defend him from being throttled. "I'll just take it with me. You wait here, and I'll have the kitchen send up something for you to snack on."
"But I've got chores-"
"Let me worry about this, I think you need some rest, and if you thought my brother was hard to argue with, well, deary you've never had to take me on." She patted Sarah's shoulder reassuringly, then folded the offending gown over her arm before turning to leave.
"You stay here for now, and do try and get some sleep, dear." Augusta said over her shoulder, "It'll be an early start tomorrow to get ready to leave for the fair, and you'll get little enough rest once the day's begun."
She slipped out the door, shutting it behind her and leaving Sarah alone with her thoughts. As she turned to leave, Augusta nearly collided with a very surprised looking Hoggle.
"Oh, erm…Yer Ladyship! I was just lookin' for ya. Jareth sent me to tell ya that he wanted to speak with ya."
Augusta nodded, "Yes, I'm sure he does. Hoggle, I'd like you to talk with Sarah a bit, try and reassure her that this is only temporary. I'm afraid she's feeling a bit overwhelmed by all this."
Hoggle nodded quickly. Though he wasn't as frightened of Augusta as he was of Jareth, she was still no one to be trifled with, "A' course, yer Ladyship. I'll just head over there now-"
Augusta cut him off, "She's inside. Oh, and Hoggle, I should warn you, she'd in a vile mood."
Hoggle shook his head, he'd have been more surprised if she wasn't. "Thanks, Yer Ladyship."
She didn't wait to see him open the door. She had bigger things to worry about, and a certain brother of hers was going to have a great deal of explaining to do if she had anything to say about it.
Hoggle slid into the room Sarah didn't seem to have noticed him, but he could tell she was close to the edge of tears. He wondered just what had happened to upset her so. No doubt that rat, Jareth had said something…
"S-Sarah. I didn't know you was in here!"
"Hoggle!" Before he knew what was happening, Sarah wrapped him in a fierce hug. "Oh, Hoggle! It's good to see a familiar face! I was beginning to think something had happened."
Aside from Jareth, and Hoggle's visit her second day at the castle, Sarah had hardly had time to breathe, and she was feeling a bit guilty for not finding the time to visit with her old friends from the Labyrinth.
"I'm sorry I ain't been ta see ya more, Sarah. We've all been so busy, what with the Fair comin' up an all."
"That's alright Hoggle, I can see everyone's excited about it." She settled back into the chair.
"Well a' course we is. Biggest party all year!" he said happily.
Sarah smiled. "So I've hear. Hoggle, I wanted to ask you…about this ball, what's it about really? Jareth only mentioned that there would be a lot of Fae nobles there." if she was to be present whether she willed it or not, Sarah thought it would be best to have some idea of what she was getting into.
Hoggle snorted, "Ya might say that. Lots of Fae'll be there. Wouldn't go talkin' to too many of 'em without 'Is Majesty with ya."
"Is it that dangerous?"
"Well, it ain't no picnic in the park if that's what yer sayin'. Don't you worry, Sarah. Jareth'll keep ya safe. You can be sure a' that."
"Oh…"
Hoggle studied his shoes with vast interest, not daring to look up at her. He had guessed, from passing comments of hers over the years, that Sarah was secretly a bit sweet on the Goblin King, though she had never said as much outright to him. He had a feeling she didn't realize it herself, at least not consciously. Past that, he hadn't thought much about her infatuation; most women tended to have much the same reaction on meeting Jareth-though Hoggle couldn't begin to guess why.
But when he had mentioned his suspicions to Justine, she'd been so gleeful that it was impossible not to be caught up in her little plot.
Hoggle shuddered, Gods 'elp us all if 'Is Majesty ever finds out that we'd planned it all…
---------------------------------------------OoOoOoOoOoOoO----------------------------------------------
Jareth all but slammed the glass down on the mantle, recalling at the last moment the previous broken glassware Augusta complained of and checking the force behind the movement. Amber liquid sloshed, sliding down the side and off the mantle to hit the red embers, momentarily filling the room with the sickly sweet smell of burning brandy.
He repressed a growl, his whole body was one line of barely restrained tension. "Tell me once more, what exactly did she say when you presented her with the gown."
Augusta sighed, her voice gentle, "We've been over this before-"
"-And we'll damn well go over it again." Jareth snapped.
Her smile faded, as once gentle eyes turned cool, "She said, and I quote, 'If he thinks I'm wearing that then he's lost his marbles I look like a…medieval hooker'. Do you require a translation of her pert mortal slang, brother dear?"
He could always tell when his sister was angry by her words. Not that she would deign to actually shout at him; it was a rare occasion indeed that could cause Augusta to raise her voice. But when she was troubled, or angry, her usually familial words turned icy, putting even the most haughty Fae courtiers to shame. It was the sort of voice that could say the most God-awful things in the same tone one would use to remark that it was raining.
"Incredible! Was there some fatal flaw with the dress I chose that I've failed to notice, Augusta? I completely fail to see where her complaint lies."
Augusta gave a very unladylike snort. "Jareth. You are not, and have never been, that blind. Please, don't pretend to be so, it doesn't suit you. You knew perfectly well when you chose it that she'd find it too…ahem,…shall we say revealing."
"Augusta…"
"Oh, very well! Perhaps by our standards it wouldn't be thought so, but you can hardly say that Sarah would agree!"
"I tell you now sister, the girl is insufferable. She should feel grateful that I provided a dress at all. I do not now how much more of her impetuousness I can stand without doing something that I'll regret!" Jareth fumed. He paced the ornate rug of Augusta's chambers in great angry strides. "I have been more than generous up until now, but my patience is wearing thin." reaching one end of the chamber he turned neatly on his heal and began the cycle over again.
Augusta laughed, watching him pace her chamber like a caged lion. "I hardly think that she sees it that way. Nor could I say I blame her. You shouldn't have gotten involved in this Jareth. We've enough to worry about as it stands without throwing Sarah Williams into the mix."
Jareth sighed, stalking over to the mantle, he poured himself a glass from the brandy set Augusta kept there. "Sister dear, I fail to see how this little side experiment of mine will upset the larger plan."
"With all do respect, your Majesty, horseshit!"
The use of the title was more mocking than respectful, but he decided to let it slide. "Augusta, I will play their game and act a fool for their benefit, if Sarah's presence adds to the illusion, what harm is there? Once the treaty has been agreed to then it will be of no consequence."
So he hoped. What Sarah, and the rest of the Underground, had never realized, was how poor the state of the Goblin City's defenses really was. In truth the Labyrinth was nigh on solely responsible for dissuading intruders. The treaty Augusta had proposed would change all that.
For thousands of years, the Underground had been in a constant state of unrest. Kingdom against Kingdom, neighbor turned on neighbor over senseless feuds and ancient arguments whose beginnings no one could even recall. Augusta's proposal was simple. A lasting peace. Should one King lead an attack on another nation, the other nobles would be charged to come to the victims defense. An almost impossible deterrent…in theory.
But before it could be decided that one ruler had staged an attack or invasion of any other kingdom, it would first have to be decided on exactly who owned what land between them. It was something he, and Augusta, had long tried for and something that the other princes had long been loathe to speak of. Jareth could name at least three instances when ancient blood feuds were, literally, over a single measure and a half of worthless swamp land, or more if he took the time to think it over. But of course, no one was willing to compromise on who's thrice great-grandfather had owned what miserable little sheep pasture that was unjustly stolen by someone else's five times grand-uncle. And, of course, no one seemed to have any records of how such things were started. But Jareth was confident it could-and it damn well would-be agreed on before the negotiations were ended at the Fair. It was a tiresome, boring, and all together trying chore but it needed doing, if only so that he wouldn't have to revisit it at the next Fair three years hence.
"Jareth? Have you heard anything I've said?" Augusta's voice brought him up from the depths of his thoughts. "This needs to end. You've had your fun, now it is time you sent her back. She causes nothing but trouble here, Jareth. Surely even you must see it-"
He shook his head, and Augusta sighed. Really, they deserve each other, she thought wryly, stubborn as a team of mules the pair of them!
"I fail to see-"
"Yes." Augusta snapped, "You do. And you do so quite often. She is a distraction that you cannot afford, and a dangerous one at that. Jareth, have you considered what their reaction would be if the others discover how much sway she holds over you? You place not only her, but her entire family in danger."
Jareth forced out a laugh, "I think you've given her a little too much credit, Augusta, dear."
Augusta quirked an eyebrow at him, "Really?" she poured a glass of brandy for herself, sipping it slowly, "So, you mean to say that you have other reasons as to why you put yourself out for her? You've been complaining of how much effort all this is, quite loudly in fact, on a regular basis. I myself am tired of it Jareth.
"Oh really?"
"Of course.
"You mean to tell me that you didn't relish the chance to drag her here. Because if you're trying to convince me that you didn't have half a dozen ladies who'd fall over themselves for the chance to go with you, then you've had more of that brandy than I thought. This business with the ball is no more about being unable to find a suitable escort than the Bog is a bed of roses. You're doing it to humiliate her. Oh, do so if you must, but have the balls to be honest about it. You're not doing it because you don't have a choice, you're doing it because you can."
Jareth gaped at her, grasping for words, his mind flailing desperately as he tried to formulate a biting comment and failed utterly. He felt his face heat and his temper flair, fueled by his still bleeding pride.
"She wanted to save Kathy, and I saved her." He snapped, "I hardly feel that a mere month of her time was too much to ask in return, nor do I feel that having her accompany me to the ball is such an extraordinary request. She was required to work by the terms of her contract, so I put her where she would be surrounded by things she understood. She wanted the horse, and I gave him to her. Everything she thought she needed, everything she asked of me, I have given her!"
Horribly, a little burst of laughter escaped her. "Truly told, Jareth, is that what you think?"
"Of course that's what I think, Augusta! Why do you think I've done all of this? For my amusement? It was for her! I did it all for her!"
"Ah, Gods! Do you hear yourself?" She said, chortling, "You want her to feel grateful, don't you?! Oh, this is too rich! Jareth, dear, you seem to be under the illusion that you've done that child a favor, well, allow me to enlighten you. You-and no other-started this little game. Every problem you've solved for her, you have created-"
"I gave her everything!" he roared, loosing his temper at last.
Augusta cackled with glee, "Jareth, you've never given her anything!" she was howling with laughter by that time, "You can't earn a gift, Jareth, it must be given. You stole her brother, you turned her world upside down, and you expect her to be grateful for it?"
Though he would never tell her as much, Augusta was probably the only living person who could speak that way to Jareth without fear of his anger. He supposed it had something to do with her being family that he allowed her to get away with such things, though he couldn't begin to guess why he did; she always took ruthless advantage of the situation.
"Jareth, just because you can force your will on her, doesn't mean you should, it doesn't make it right." She sighed, emptying her glass. "In the mortal world they have an expression, 'you catch more flies with honey than vinegar', you would do well to remember it."
---------------------------------------------OoOoOoOoOoOoO----------------------------------------------
She was not merely traveling, she was stretching. As though some trivial part of her was still rooted to the physical reality she had left behind, while a thinning strand of her consciousness-herself, really-was being pulled, faster than she could have thought possible over thousands of miles of noise and light; whole galaxies, a life time of travel surpassed in an instant.
She felt herself becoming increasingly spread out over infinitesimal amount of space until Kathy imagined herself to be little more than a single strand of consciousness, beads of her own thoughts touching nothing more than the like motes on either side.
It was beautiful and breathtaking and utterly terrifying all at once, and the strand that was Kathy did her best to remind herself that this was a completely normal side effect. At least, she was almost sure that it was completely normal. She had been so young the first time she crossed between the worlds she could barely remember the experience.
Aunt Lynn's words echoed, painfully loud in her mind, 'Your uncle shielded you from what was happening when you crossed the first time. You'll have no such luck now, as I'm unable to do so for myself alone, much less another being. Everything you were protected from on that inaugural trip will be magnified a thousand times over…'
Oh Gods, please, let this be normal…
What had been fascinating and beautiful only moments ago, was quickly become increasingly painful.
She was a rubber band in the hands of God who, like a gleeful child, was spreading his mighty arms as wide as they would go. Then that rubber band snapped…
When she came to, she was lying on her side, something prickly poking into her skin, and half her vision was filled with what at first appeared to be an abstract painting of smeary green lines. Grass.
Her head was pounding like a symphony of kettle drums and she would have sold her soul without hesitation for a bottle of mouth wash. In so much as small mercies went, she, surprisingly, wasn't nauseous.
She made the mistake of sitting up.
That did make her nauseous. She bent over in time to avoid empting the previous nights' dinner onto her lap, spitting over and over again into the grass, and groaned. "Ouuugghhh."
She did her best to keep still as her vision spun and actually considered the merits of taking up permanent residence in the Underground, not so much because she was home sick, but because she never wanted to feel anything like that again. She looked up and instantly reversed her decision.
It wasn't so much that anything looked expressly dangerous, or wrong-in fact it all looked right in a romantic, pre-Raphaelite sort of way. Too right in fact, and that was what made it so frighteningly wrong. Everything-from the close standing groves of trees to the perfect green of the grassy knolls, to the jewel like brilliance of insect wings as they flitted through the shafts of late afternoon light between the two-was wrong in the most basic of ways. Kathy tried to tell herself that she was simply used to looking at the mortal world and the Underground wasn't so much wrong as it was different, and failed utterly. This place scared her like nothing else ever could, right down to her Fae bred bones.
She drew a deep shuddering breath to steady her nerves and surveyed the land she'd landed on. It was not in the Goblin Kingdom. That at least, she was certain of. She'd come through a bit too far north, probably close to the edge of the Northern Wood, near Anthria, a good day's walk from the borders of her Uncles' lands.
Perfect.
Kathy levered herself to her feet and dusted off her breeches. If she'd timed it right, she should be able to arrive around the time the Fair was due to begin. She'd blend in with the crowds on their way to the markets and slip into the castle grounds while the city was nigh on empty. If that went according to plans it would be simplicity itself to find Sarah and slip away again before anyone was the wiser. All in all, she thought it was a perfectly wonderful plan.
"Well, c'mon feet. It's a long walk, and the sooner we've started the sooner we can go home and forget this mess…."
---------------------------------------------OoOoOoOoOoOoO----------------------------------------------
Jareth paced the confines of Augusta's reception room as an animal might pace the confines of its cage. Though he had long since learned to block it out, even now he could hear the commotion down stairs, and feel the rush of excitement that flowed and eddied through the very walls of the castle like an electric current. In less than an hour it would be dawn. The bells would chime the hour, summoning servants and nobles alike to their duties all over the underground. Or, at least they would have had it been any other-ordinary-dawn.
In less than a day the Devalin gate would open, ushering the first venders into the grounds and the first day of the Fair would begin.
He ought to have felt relived.
But he didn't.
Nor did he feel glad that in two weeks this little experiment with Sarah Williams would come to its conclusion. He was no closer to understanding her, or the way her mind worked than he had been at the start of this sorry mess. But he did not feel disappointed either.
All he felt was tired.
Augusta's words echoed, artificially loud to his ears as they reverberated over and over inside his mind, 'you can't earn a gift…it has to be given…".
Damn.
She was right, of course. Augusta usually was. She didn't offer her opinions on the lives of others often; she felt it would be a misuse of her gifts, but when she did she was without fail, dead on. His thoughts brooded over their conversation, no matter how he tried to put it from his mind.
A long time later, Jareth left his sisters wing. He tried to recapture the feeling of freedom he'd had while they'd planned out the week, but found it impossible. The conversation at dinner had revolved around the politics of the fair. Tomorrow the markets would open, the plays would begin, and the kings and nobles would begin their talks. He wandered outside the castle, no real destination in mind and stopped outside his own tent, admiring the gilt poles with the stylized dragon heads at the top.
Gavin had ordered guards set around the royal tent that night, raised in practice for when it would be set up at the fair itself, and good practice for the actual fair when such guards would be necessary. One of the goblin sentries paused in his rounds to salute him.
"Will ye be retiring now, milord?" he asked
Jareth sighed, "No, not yet."
"Very good, yer majesty." he saluted again, and continued on his way, pacing the rounds in that waddling step that the goblins all seemed to share.
Jareth found his thoughts returning to a Fair long passed, when he had been watched far less formally, the real attention centered on his brother. He was no longer able to wander where he pleased. All eyes would be on him, his words measured, his every gesture commented on. What he had once found exhilarating, now seemed stifling; he wasn't at all pleased with the difference.
Changing course, he turned and headed down to the river that snaked its way through the gardens and eventually turned underground, passing beneath the city itself, and stood gazing down at the black water. The moon had not yet risen, so the feeble starlight shone down from behind wispy clouds as the only illumination. Farther up the bank, deeper shadows marked where the trees began.
He shivered, reacting to the strange chill in the late night air that flowed off the water. He wasn't meant for such places, he told himself. He'd been made for the bone searing heat of the south, the harsh winter wind off the desert that could strip a mans flesh. The easy abundance of this place made him nervous right down to his bones, and Jareth knew that no matter how long he'd lived there it always would. He shivered again, thought not from the chill before turning back up the slope.
The simple shift of position saved his life. A fingers breath from his ribs, the air suddenly hissed with the sound of a passing knife. He dropped instantly to a crouch, making as small a target of himself as possible, boot knife in hand as his eyes scanned the darkness. A second knife followed, missing his head by a inches. Jareth swore silently, cursing his fair hair that shone even in the moonless night. The nearest cover was twenty paces up the slope, all he could do was become a shadow like any other.
Birds cried their alarm and small animals chattered furiously as their nest was disturbed, Jareth stayed crouched, listening as the sounds of the night resumed around him before he rose. Though he presented an easy target now the night was free of knives. He waited a moment, then searched the riverbank, feeling his way along the rich loam near the shore before his hand came to rest on what he was searching for. The knife was planted in the soft ground, angled down; the assassin had anticipated his defense. Jareth ran his fingers over the cool, smooth blade and choked on a gasp, it was not northern Fae steal as he had expected, but glass; hollow…such a wound was always mortal. There would have been no blade to remove, the glass would shatter, releasing whatever poison the owner of the weapon had chosen.
He hid it with his own, tucked neatly into the top of his boot and returned to his tent. Michael dosed by a lamp in the corner, and was unaware of his masters departure and subsequent return. Jareth held the blade up to the light and was unsurprised to see the characteristic notch in the blade, meant to catch the victims flesh when he went to remove it.
He smiled. So, the Elderich meant to warn him, did they?
The Elderich, the name brought a dark glint to his eyes as he remembered darker years from the past. They had come to power before he had inherited the Labyrinth, dark and hungry they had done their best to burn the world to ash and nearly succeeded at it. It was Jason's own sacrifice that had kept them from it. They were the shadows of a race long dead, their magick twisted and broken, they survived by feeding on the magick of the living.
He tucked the knife deep in his saddle bags where they wouldn't be found. They wanted him nervous, suspicious, in the hopes that he would make careless mistakes. He smiled again. This new problem, combined with all the others only added to the excitement welling in his blood, eagerness for the coming battles of wit and nerve. If the Elderich had meant to frighten him they had failed.
And that, he realized was his own problem in a nutshell. He had meant to cow the girl into obedience. But Sarah Williams was not the sort of person to be easily frightened. If he wanted to win her, he would have to try something else. Augusta's words floated to the surface of his mind again,
"…it has to be given…"
A wry grin split his features. She was right, and he knew exactly the gift for the job.
---------------------------------------------OoOoOoOoOoOoO----------------------------------------------
(A/N) Hope you guys liked it, cause it was all kinds of fun to write! Anyway, I'm sending out a request for names, both male and female(all those Fae nobles I mentioned) as I've could use some new ideas. So if you've got any ideas, send me a message or a review…
shameless self promotion