A/N: Whew! My chapters are getting longer and longer, which I hope makes you lovely readers happy. I'm very glad you all enjoyed the last chapter, and I hope you like this new one just as much. I know I had a ton of fun writing it! :)
xXx
Sarah pulled away slightly to look at Jareth in the eyes. "The catacombs?" she asked with poorly concealed sniff, "That explains the smell. But, I thought they were only a legend."
"Obviously not," Jareth said with a smirk, "In fact, I'm fairly certain we're standing directly below the alleyway we were just in." He felt Sarah trying to pull away from him, and he loosened his grip so she could do so. Suddenly, his arms felt very empty and cold.
"I... I'm sorry," Sarah apologized, making a vague gesture with her hands, "I didn't mean to lose my composure like that." She breathed as deeply as she dared with the stench and wiped at her eyes with one sleeve. "I guess it was out of shock," she rationalized, "I've never seen a dead body before."
Jareth tossed the crystal up into the air, and it stayed suspended right above his head. "I have," he replied grimly, visions of past battles flashing through his mind, "It isn't something I like to dwell upon."
Sarah suddenly felt silly. Of course he would have seen dead people before- hundreds even. Possibly even watched his own friends be killed. How ridiculous she must have looked, shrieking and crying like a lunatic over a body that had likely died of natural causes! "Does it ever wear off?" she inquired, tentatively, "The shock, I mean."
Absently adjusting his gloves, Jareth shrugged. "You learn to turn off emotions," he said, "You have to, in order to do what is required. Shock cannot factor into anything." He looked so resigned as he said it, that Sarah couldn't help but wonder.
As she cocked her head to the side in thought, she asked abruptly, "Why are you here?"
Jareth blinked. "As you already very well know, I transported us-" he began, but Sarah shook her head.
"No, no, no," she interrupted, "Why are you here in the Aboveground? This war has nothing to do with you. You don't benefit from it at all. Why aren't you back in your kingdom, in the Labyrinth? Don't you want to run it properly?"
"I believe you have asked enough questions of me and my duties," Jareth answered in a clipped tone, "Come, let us find a way out of here. You can tell me what it was that made you wish to speak to me as we walk." He twisted his wrist and Sarah's eyes widened as another crystal rolled into his palm. "Here," he said, handing it to her as it began to glow, "And please, try not to drop it. I don't fancy having to make a new one."
Feeling the weight of the crystal in her hand, Sarah was at a loss for words. Why did he dismiss her like that? Was the war that much of a sore spot for him?
The Goblin King turned and glanced around the room. Each of the four walls was lined with some sort of bone. One wall held skulls, the others were a mix of skulls and what looked like femurs and radii, which were most likely what Sarah had been exploring with her fingers earlier. Unfortunately, there didn't seem to be any doors or openings of any kind.
"Interesting," he muttered, before speaking loud enough for Sarah to hear, "Do you see anything that looks like a concealed opening, Princess? There has to be at least one somewhere, otherwise this air would most likely be toxic."
Sarah glanced around once, giving the room a brief sweep with her eyes. "I don't see any," she replied, clutching the crystal Jareth gave her tightly in her hand, "What if there's just a small crack for circulation and not a full opening?"
"Doubtful." Jareth replied shortly, "These catacombs are heavily warded with magic, and I hardly think they would be as such unless there was a legitimate way to get in."
With a frown, Sarah turned around in a circle, scanning the room. "So you think there's a disguised door?" she asked.
"Obviously."
Rolling her eyes at the Goblin King's sarcasm, Sarah ran her hand along a wall with a shudder. Don't think about it. Just don't think about it, she chanted in her head, Just try and feel for an opening.
Suddenly, Jareth snapped his fingers. "Of course!" he exclaimed, striding over to the ledge that held the body Sarah had groped earlier. Peering into the cutout, he squinted into the darkness. "The opening is through here!" he declared triumphantly.
"Over the body?" Sarah asked tensely, walking to stand at Jareth's side and looking into the cutout as well. Indeed, there was a passage, and a large one at that. It looked to lead into another room, or possibly a tunnel.
"Do you wish to go first, or shall I?" Jareth asked, placing both hands on the ledge, "I can either lift you or pull you up."
"Well I'd rather do neither." Sarah said under her breath, eying the body she would inevitably have to climb over. Jareth caught her words and her look, and frowned. After a moment of thought, he let out a sigh and looked at Sarah.
"Move to the side." he said, or rather demanded. Sarah was puzzled, but did as he asked. Once she realized what the Goblin King was doing, she was grateful she had.
Jareth had taken hold of the tightly wrapped body and was tugging it out of the cutout. After several small tugs, he realized that he would need a little more strength. With a grunt, he gave a long, strong pull, and the body tumbled down with a loud thump. Now they wouldn't have to climb over it.
"There." he panted, his strength sapped since he still hadn't fully recovered from the transportation, "Is that better?" Sarah was speechless and could only stare wide-eyed at the purple bundle on the ground.
"You... you moved it," she breathed, finding her voice, "You moved a dead body."
Jareth shrugged. "What of it?" he asked, absently rubbing his biceps, "You don't believe in Elvish customs and religion, do you?"
Clutching her crystal tighter, Sarah blinked. "No," she replied at length, "But it still seems like desecration."
"It's dead."
"But still-"
"Enough," Jareth interrupted, growing irritated, "I did you a bloody favor by clearing the path. Be grateful. Now, would you like to go first?"
Sarah quickly shook her head. "Absolutely not," she answered, peering into the darkness of the passage they would have to go through. Jareth smirked, but understood her trepidation. "Very well then." he declared, and without further ado, pulled himself up onto the shelf. The light he had tossed earlier drifted in after him, stopping to float a few inches away from his face. He turned around on his knees, and his wild hair nearly brushed the cutout's ceiling. His torso was level with Sarah's face, so he bent slightly to make better eye contact. "Your turn, Princess." he said, holding out his hands.
Taking a deep breath, Sarah set her crystal on the ledge next to Jareth's knees and placed both hands on the bottom of the cutout, while Jareth slipped his hands under her arms, gripping the back of her waist firmly. "On three?" Sarah asked, preparing to jump and push.
"One," Jareth counted, leaning back in preparation to pull, "Two... Three!" Sarah kicked off the ground and pushed herself up with her arms, while Jareth pulled her the rest of the way into the cutout. The pair tumbled against the side of the opening and landed in a tangled heap of limbs.
"Ow," Sarah groaned, pulling herself off of Jareth's chest. She leaned against the opposite side of the cutout and held her forehead with both hands. "I wasn't ready to do that," she mumbled, "My head hurts like... ugh."
Pushing himself to mimic Sarah's position, Jareth rested his head against the wall. "Apparently, neither was I," he replied with a ghost of a wry grin, "Perhaps that wasn't the best of ideas. But no matter. We are up, and that is all that is important now." After a moment of recovery, he moved to a crawling position and crawled only a few feet before coming to the end of the opening. Looking back, he called over his shoulder, "I believe this passage here is the way out."
Sarah put aside her discomfort and crawled behind the Goblin King, stopping at his side. The small opening they had been sitting in led to a dark corridor, lit only by the light of Jareth's floating ball.
"My crystal!" Sarah exclaimed, suddenly remembering that she had left it. Turning around, she hurried back to where she had left it on the edge of the cutout. She did her best not to look at the body Jareth had dropped on the ground, and instead snatched up the crystal. Crawling as fast as she could back to Jareth, Sarah clutched the orb tightly against her chest. "You said not to lose it..." she mumbled, seeing Jareth's quizzical look.
He said nothing in response, but instead swung his feet over the end of the ledge and slid down to the floor of the passage. As soon as he was securely on his feet, he turned and wordlessly held out both arms to help Sarah down. Gratefully, she braced herself against his shoulders as she too slid into the passage, and she mentally thanked herself for wearing leggings under her dress that day. Her skirt had bunched up under Jareth's hands on her waist, and as soon as she touched the ground, she let go and tugged the material out from under the Goblin King's grip.
"Which do you think is the way out?" she asked, staring down the passage, then turning around and peering the other direction. It was too dark to see very far, and neither direction seemed more promising than the other.
"I am not certain," Jareth replied, following her gaze, "But this direction looks more promising." He pointed to the left, and Sarah frowned.
"Why that way?"
"I just said that it looks promising."
"Because?"
"Because it does!" Jareth snipped, "Now do you want to get out of here or not?"
Sarah frowned. "Of course I want to get out!" she retorted, barely keeping herself from stomping her foot, "But I... you... -we can't just make decisions without thinking about them." She huffed at her inability to form words and placed a hand on her hip.
With a roll of his eyes, Jareth crossed his arms. "In case you forgot, Princess, I am the Goblin King. My castle is at the center of a labyrinth. Out of the two of us, I am certain I have significantly better intuition to discern which path is the most likely one to lead us out."
Sarah bit her lip and contemplated his words. "Fine then." she conceded bitterly after a moment of thought, "We'll go your way. But I swear, Goblin King or not, if you lead me into another room like that one, I will not be held responsible for my actions."
Jareth let out a chuckle. "Do as you wish," he replied with a mock-bow towards her. Then, turning on his heel, he headed down the corridor, calling over his shoulder, "Come now. The faster we walk, the sooner we shall be out of this muddle."
xXx
Meanwhile, back in the Elven castle, Arden was sitting his personal study, furiously writing something on a scroll of parchment. Ink flew in splatters across his desk as he continuously jammed his quill into the ink jar, but the prince paid the mess no heed. After leaving Karen, he had retreated to his study in order to put his backup plan into writing.
When he heard the word that Karen's foolish little sister had decided to run off, Arden realized that this idea was far from flawless. He obviously couldn't rely on Karen to be of much aid in his master plan, therefore he needed a contingency plan, in case events took a turn for the worse. The wheels in his head were turning like mad, and his writing could hardly keep up with his thoughts as he continued to record his ideas.
Finally, he sat back in his chair with a sigh, eyeing his words with pleasure. "Wait until Father sees this!" he muttered to himself, setting his quill down with a care that belied his hurried actions just moments before, "He won't doubt me after he sees my plan in action."
It had been years since King Priam had listened to Arden's opinion in battle. The king did not find his son's plans and ideas to be practical, which infuriated Arden to no end. When the war had started, the prince had come up with what he thought to be the most ingenious yet painfully obvious battle plan ever.
Eight years earlier...
"Father, Father, just listen to me," Arden pleaded, leaning across the table where King Priam stood. On the table was a large map of the Elven kingdom, marking where the Fae were encamped. The king was in the library-converted-battle room, plotting out his next move, but Arden was certain his idea would be better.
"Not now, Arden," Priam replied absently, waving an arm in his son's direction. His advisor Galen placed another miniature tent on the map, right along the coast, and Priam grunted in displeasure.
"Do we have an estimate as to how many soldiers there are?" he asked, placing both hands on the table and leaning over it intently. Galen shook his head and brushed his hands together.
"Unfortunately no, sire," the advisor replied, clasping his hands behind his back, "I have just received word that High King Lysander has aligned himself with King Menelaus and has been sending more troops. We have not been able to get a grasp as to how many he may have sent, nor can we predict how many more soldiers he may send." His words sent a wave of agitation through the king.
"Damn it all to the fiery depths!" King Priam cursed, slamming a fist into the table, causing the miniatures to rattle, "Now we are up against the High King's troops as well? How can it be possible for us to face the enemy now?"
Arden tentatively cleared his throat. "I may have an idea, Father," he spoke up after a moment, "If you would just listen to me, I could tell you of it." He mimicked his father's position leaning over the table and let out a deep breath. "Please." he pleaded.
Pinching the bridge of his nose, King Priam closed his eyes. "Very well, Arden," he conceded with a weary sigh, "But be quick about it." Under his breath he muttered, "This had better be good."
With a small bow of thanks, Arden stood up straight. "You may not have thought of this before, as you have been so very preoccupied with all that is happening," he began, "And of course, that is completely understanda-"
"Get to the point," King Priam interrupted with a growl, "I haven't got the entire day to listen to you ramble."
Arden's mouth sat agape for half a moment before he snapped it shut with an audible pop. "Of course," he said quickly, "My point is, that I think we have overlooked a very important detail. The Fae are encamped on our shores. Legally, they have no right to be on our land, and therefore are bound by their lives and honor to leave. If we bring this before the High King, he is obliged to retract all troops. And if he fails to comply, we are within our legal bounds to attack the camps directly, which would be a crippling blow to our enemies."
These words were let out in a nervous rush, and Arden crossed his arms as he regained his breath. He looked proud of himself for having come up with what he thought was a most ingenious plan, and he couldn't wait to hear his Father's praise.
Priam however, was not impressed. "That is your plan?" he asked in disbelief, "You have been pestering me for gods know how long, for that?" Arden's face fell, and he dropped his arms.
"I don't know what you mean, Father," the prince replied quietly, "Of course that is my plan." He frowned and looked down at the table.
With a long, deep sigh, Priam passed a hand over his eyes. "Arden," he began slowly, trying to contain his negative emotion, "If things were that simple, we would have done it long before. However, what you failed to realize was that the Fae are not encamped on our shores. The shores belong to the High King. Therefore, we are the ones bound by law, life, and honor to leave them be until they launch a direct attack. And even then, we must still steer clear of their lands unless they intrude on the royal family's right to life or freedom."
"But this is war, Father," Arden protested, his tone becoming petulant, "Why are there rules to it? Why must we stick to this code?"
Expression darkening, the king stood up straight and looked his son in the eyes for the first time since their discussion started. "Where would we be without honor?" he asked, "Where would the moral standard be? We must stick to this code, because in wartime, it is the only thing we have. I advise you to think upon that." With those words, Priam turned around in a swirl of robes, and exited the room, leaving Arden to glare at his father's retreating back...
Ten years into the war, Arden had become older, more prepared, and much more clever when it came to battle preparation. No longer was he unlearned in wartime conduct. Now he was able to understand the inner workings of the law and code of honor, and he was more than ready to twist, bend, and circumvent them to his will.
The Fae would not stand a chance.
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