THE CONCLUSION
“His majesty needed to finalize some of the arrangements for tonight’s festivities.”
Sarah fussed with the mask the elf was applying, “He wasn’t at lunch either.”
Arulan swatted her hand, “Leave that dry. What happened to the chipper little miss I woke this morning?”
“She was sealed up in this mud masque,” the mortal grouched.
“Yes, well, scoff if you will, but you’re going to have skin like porcelain when we peel this off.” Arulan sat on a stool at her feet massaging the mortal’s soles. Sarah never had a pedicure before, but the elf insisted that she have it done because of the open toed shoes that had been chosen for her. “Don’t touch your face,” Arulan called out for the twentieth time. “I’m going to have you soak your fingers so you can’t mess with that masque, otherwise I’ll have to tie your hands to the chair.” Sarah smirked, a wicked smile causing all kinds of ripples and cracks in the dried clay. “Stop smiling, you’ll give yourself wrinkles. Here, what are you smiling like that over anyway?”
“Nothing Arulan. Wasn’t it you who told me I shouldn’t move about too much in this. I’ll just be quiet and let you finish my nails.”
“Sure, now you want to listen to me.” Arulan finished the pedicure with a thin coat of clear nail polish. When she finished Sarah’s toes, she begun to manicure the mortal’s hands. Polishing them in a magnificently elegant silver that would match her dress and shoes. While the nails dried Arulan removed the mud masque and applied a deep moisturizer.
Sarah sighed deeply as the elf finished the facial by lying a hot towel over her fresh face. When the towel was removed, the mortal noticed a table had been moved into her room. Arulan indicated that she should lie down. As the elves tiny hands dug into Sarah’s back muscles with a strength and power she had not anticipated, she groaned. Not long afterwards she felt herself on the edge of sleep. As relaxation found its way into the small of her back she gave into the feeling and began to dream of what the ball would be like.
It was after three when she began to snore and Arulan shook her awake. “Enough of your lazing,” she chided. We’ve got to get you ready. You make your entrance at five, dinner will be served at six...”
“But I thought the ball started at four?”
“It does, but it would be improper if you were to show before all of the guests.”
“But this ball is being thrown in my honor.” Sarah crossed her arms over her chest, “Why wouldn’t I be there to greet everyone.”
“No Sarah, this ball is thrown to introduce you to the kingdom.” Arulan opened a silver case and began applying make up to Sarah’s face, “You’ll be presented as a servant of the king, someone who will rebuild our kingdom.
It is you who must impress these people so that there’s no rivalry or dissension.”
“Servant to the king, but I thought...”
“You will greet the attendants and seek they’re approval. Didn’t Atofina go over this with you?”
“No.”
Arulan sighed, “Guess it’s up to me. Jareth will introduce you to each person by their title. Pay careful attention and use the titles he uses. Don’t spend more than a couple of seconds with any one guest, not until after dinner. You may dance, but only if asked and never with anyone of whom the king objects.”
“Arulan, you’ve got to be kidding. I’m thirty for Christ’s sake. I’m supposed to go down there and act like it’s some kind of little girl’s coming out party and not breath if my father doesn’t tell me it’s appropriate.”
“Oh dear. Oh dear.” Arulan was busily trying to ready Sarah, but she kept squirming about in the chair going on about the ridiculousness of the king’s rules. Finally, thoroughly fed up with her whining, Arulan took Sarah by the shoulders and steadied her, “I have no idea what a little girl’s coming out party is, but this is how things are done here. Here is where you are now. You had your chance to wish yourself home and you chose to stay. You’ve forfeited your rights to quibble ‘bout the way we do things. As for you being of age, you certainly don’t act like it.” At this Sarah’s mouth hung open and an audible sound of displeasure escaped her. “Besides, even at your age, you’d still be considered a minor in the Underground. This ball is extremely important to the king. He’s got to look as though he has some control over you, which is why Atofina was supposed to work with you, what little she was able to accomplish. If for one instant the royals get the impression the king doesn’t have full control over you, it’s him that’s in danger, him and his kingdom. So in short, Sarah, I don’t want to hear so much as a peep about what you want. You will make your entrance promptly at five. You will behave as a perfectly compliant servant, happy for the opportunity to serve under the king.” Thoughts of the previous evening once again intruded making Sarah grin. “You will not speak of or act as though the king has given you any special privileges and when he acts the same, you’ll not look surprised. Honestly,” Arulan went back to work on Sarah’s face, “I don’t know why Jareth insists on learning you anything if his instructor won’t review the basics.”
The pair did not speak again until it was time for Sarah to stand and step into her dress. She’d been put in bloomers and not objected. After all, they were light, airy and really rather comfortable, but Sarah’s lips quivered, eager to oppose when Arulan wrapped the stiffened ribs of a corset around her torso. The elf’s stern eyes almost begged her to express her opposition to the garment, still hot with the anger of their previous disagreement. Sarah only pursed her lips together. Arulan grabbed the laces of t corset in her small hands and situated her knee in the girl’s lower back, just above the tail bone. A mighty yank and Sarah felt the air rush from her lungs. “Is this really necessary?” she asked. Arulan only nodded. “In my world we wear these things above our clothing and not nearly so tightly.” In reply she received a firm stare that reminded her this was not her world. More obediently she stepped into the dress. Arulan had begun regretting her spouting off at Sarah the way she had. Once the zipper was drawn over the length of her back and the dress took shape around her, the elf said, “As perfect as a doll, you are.”
Fanning out her skirt, Sarah gave a tiny curtsey and said, “Thank you.”
“I’m sor...”
“We still need to do something with my hair Arulan. Let’s not waste time on words which don’t need saying.”
“Yes, milady,” the elf smiled.
Watching in the mirror as her locks were hoisted into the combs, Sarah’s mind started going back to the first time she’d worn them. The king had sorted his way through the crowds in an arousing game of cat and mouse, culminating in his pulling her gently, yet purposefully, into his arms. She caught her neck going limp and snapped her head straight again.
“Are you alright?” Arulan asked concerned.
“Fine,” Sarah replied. Her manicured hand snapped to her throat and she cried out, “My necklace!”
“I’ve got it right here,” Arulan reassured her as she picked up the black embroidered choker and fastened it around Sarah’s neck. “It looks good on you.”
It felt good. Sarah hadn’t managed to make much sense out of it, not yet anyway, but that feminine energy she’d picked up the first time she held the charm seemed to mesh somehow with her own making the adornment feel as if it were always meant to grace her neck. She didn’t let on to the elf, merely thanked her for the compliment and asked, “Now what?”
Looking at the clock in the corner showed it to be a quarter of five. ‘Now nothing,’ Arulan thought. “We wait,” she said flatly. “Turgomon will come to take you to the ballroom entrance. Outside in the hall you’ll remain perfectly still, poised just the way you are now.” Sarah was standing perfectly straight, her hands folded before her, hung elegantly as the thumbs intertwined. The doors will have been enchanted to open promptly at five. The music will stop, a horn will blow. You’ll wait until you hear them announce your name, then you sweep into the room. All eyes will be on you. His majesty will ascend the stairs,” Arulan’s face took on a dreamy look, “bow and offer you his elbow. You’ll accept, after a curtsey, and he will lead you to a receiving line where you will be formally introduced to the guests.” Sarah had begun to get a bit dreamy herself. “When the introductions are over. You’ll be seated for dinner. As it was the other night, you’ll be at the left hand of the king. After the meal, your first dance will be with Jareth. At first, it will be just the two of you on the dance floor.” The expression on the mortal’s face changed a bit with this piece of information, “Now, don’t get nervous. It’ll only be for a minute.
A chance for everyone to approve of what they see between the two of you. A critical time for you to be your most aware of what Atofina has taught you. To indicate their approval, the others will begin to dance around you. When the song ends, you’ll bow to one another and immediately leave each others’ company. Turgomon and Deverell will keep your company for much of the rest of the evening. As I’ve said, given the king’s approval, you may dance with the other men at the function, but always seek his approval first.”
A gentle knocking at the door interrupted Arulan’s to do and not to do list. Turgomon had come to take Sarah away. She met him at the door, took his elbow, inhaled deeply and stumbled as they started down the hall. The king’s servant helped her to her feet and smiled into her scowling stare, “As long as you do that up here, no one cares.”
Sarah returned his smile, adjusted her dress and continued on what felt like a very long walk to the ballroom.
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