THE CONCLUSION
Sarah shoved a carrot in her mouth to keep from adding her two cents in. “Fine,” Jareth commented, his eyes cast down.
“Fine, is that all you can tell me?”
“‘Fraid so,” he replied curtly.
The Representative continued his relentless pursuits, “ She spent all her time with you at the ball. None of the rest of us could get near her all night.”
“‘Fraid so,” he replied curtly.
Glancing at the mortal who grew increasingly uncomfortable with the topic at hand he asked, “And you Sarah, how did you like Maeve? I’m curious for another woman’s opinion.” Ranofyr’s eyebrows arched as he awaited her reply.
“I can’t honestly say as I spent much time with her.” It was the truth, an answer Jareth was pleased to see Sarah had the tact to provide.
“Surely you were able to form some opinion of her. Maeve is far from shy. She must of made herself noticeable to you some how.”
Slamming down her fork Sarah looked up, noticed that her act had gotten the attention of the men at the table and calmly said, “You know Ranofyr, I just can’t seem to keep my appetite what with all the talk you did earlier of these cliffs we have to explore.”
“Right,” the Representative cooed. “Well, then I’ll have the servants tend to this and we’ll be off.”
Though his face remained like stone, the Goblin King smiled inside at the maturity the mortal displayed in handling Ranofyr’s blatant attempt to infuriate her. She had learned something after all.
A narrow winding path led up the cliff side forcing them to walk single file. Ranofyr led and Jareth stayed behind, allowing Sarah the protection of being positioned between them. They were the strangest cliffs Sarah had ever seen for they didn’t jut out from a mountainside. They stood freely, one side white, bleached from the salt water, the other side black, like coal. Bravely, Sarah walked to the edge and looked over. She never much feared heights, besides the scene below was fascinating, watching the waves break and crash against the shore. ‘Nature is truly a powerful force,’ she thought.
“Welcome to the home of the Bean Sidhe, sister of Leanan Sidhe, commonly referred to both Above and Underground as Banshee. We’ve got a whole collection of them in these cliffs, some appear as a young woman, others a stately mother figure and some still, twisted old hags, but each with one purpose. Once regarded as goddess of war and death, they glide about these cliffs wearing their grey hooded cloak and winding their boneless bodies as their howls ring through the stone so loud, so low, so foreboding that the Supreme One himself feels the hair on his neck rise on edge. Not a creature alive, mortal or immortal, can claim ignorance to her omen.”
Sarah had heard the story of the Banshee. Her cry was a warning of impending death. Suddenly she regretted showing such an interest in coming here. “This is their home, those things, live here?”
“They do. And if I were you, I wouldn’t be calling them ‘those things’. They are sensitive and vengeful lot.”
“Don’t go scaring her Ranofyr,” Jareth boomed.
“Come now, you ought to know your mother’s cousins better than any of us. How resentful can the Leanan Sidhe be when she is not respected?”
“Moot point.”
“I’d like to head back to the castle now if you please.” Sarah interrupted the argument with her request. “I’d like to have time to clean up before dinner. I feel completely covered in sea spray.”
“Yes, well, by all means, I won’t have my guests feeling uncomfortable.” They doubled back the trail they’d taken to get to the cliffs in the first place.
Sarah sunk into a tub of hot water, letting the grit liquefy and melt away from her tender skin. Thoughts of the banshee were still fresh in her mind as she closed her eyes. It was Maeve’s face she saw on one of the howling ghosts, only rather than an ambiguous cry, Maeve called her name. The mortal shrieked, fearing it was a vision. Jareth came bursting into the bath. Sarah gasped at the intrusion, covering herself with her hands.
“Are you alright?” he practically shouted at her.
“Fine, I just fell asleep and forgot where I was.” She wouldn’t admit to the weakness of being frightened by a nightmare. “When I woke up I gave myself a start.”
Looking around the room skeptically, he conceded, for he had seen nothing else in there with her, certainly he hadn’t seen what she had. “I suppose that’s possible,” he said raising his eyebrow at her. Seeing her naked in the water pleased him and had they not been here in Ranofyr’s home, he’d have pulled a chair to the tub’s side and offered his assistance in washing her back. But they were where they were and there was no sense in jeopardizing himself by showing genuine interest in his mortal here. He turned hesitantly and left, closing the door behind him.
As Sarah finished her bath, she thought about the wavering she’d seen on his face. Wondering if it was out of long for his Maeve that he looked her over, or perhaps it stirred a memory of Arulan’s baths and he was feeling home sick. Angry she stood and dried herself. They had packed nothing for the trip. Using her magic, which she assumed Jareth expected of her, Sarah changed the lavender shift into a simple black dress. This place made her feel morbid, remorseful, as if she should be wrapped in some dark, drab, lifeless color. In compliment, the necklace transformed into it’s original embroidered wrap.
Making her way to the staircase, she joined the gentlemen who awaited her. As they walked to the dining room, Ranofyr complimented her appearance, “More ravishing than I have ever seen Maeve.”
“Even when it’s a hidden compliment, mortal woman find it trite at best, being compared to other woman.” It was a lie, an obvious one by the grin though which she’d spoken it. Sarah very much enjoyed hearing that she was more beautiful than Jareth’s former love.
“What’s for dinner?” the king offered as a means to change the topic.
“Lamb,” Ranofyr replied. “Sacrificial lamb.” He was the only one who chuckled at the poor excuse for a joke.
What was served to them was beyond rare, it was raw. Not even the edges of the meat had been braised. Naturally, this did not phase the fey, for both of them had a primal hunter’s palate. Sarah, on the other hand, ate around the medallions, cringing every now and the when the blood would sour the taste of the vegetables or potatoes onto which it had spilled. Three glasses of mead were spent trying to wash the taste from her mouth.
When the meal had ended, Jareth rose and approached the mortal, “You will enjoy the sight of the beach by night. Perhaps the first thing you will enjoy since I’ve brought you here,” he scowled at the Representative who had ordered seconds from the kitchen. “Would you care to join me?”
‘Well I’m not staying here,’ she thought. Rather than announce her true feelings, she graciously took Jareth’s offered arm and excused herself from Ranofyr’s company.
Outside the moon shone over the water making it seem dark and slippery like black ice only filled with movement, waves and ripples, that the stillness of ice could never allow. The heat had left the top layer of the sand. At a point, not far from the cliffs, Jareth stilled himself and with a sadness Sarah had never seen tarnish his face before, shy once, looked out into the sea. Nervously, she dug her toes into the sand feeling as if she were intruding on a moment he should have been having alone. Thinking that he was lost in a memory of his mother, she tried to look away, tried to keep her own tears from forming, tried not to feel so hateful that he wouldn’t talk to her about these things. Deeper beneath the grains that they had been plodding over the sand was still hot, like stored sun light. Sarah sat upon the exposed grains and allowed the warmth to comfort her. It seemed as though she had her knees hugged to her chin for an hour or more before the Goblin King remembered he had asked her to join him.
“This really used to be a lovely place. The water would turn opaque and navy beneath the moon. The sand was pink, the cliffs green.” A gloved hand reached down to her. She accepted it. He held her hand loosely in his own as she followed his wide strides with her tiny steps. “Look there,” he told her, pointing out to what appeared to be an island in the middle of the sea. A light house rose high above the horizon, only no beacon lit the way for the ships. Just the white chipped paint of the tower, casting back the moonlight enough to make it’s silhouette stand out prominently against the night sky. “That was called Man Island. All the mortals who failed my Labyrinth were sent there. It wasn’t so much a punishment. The island is...was,” he corrected himself, “a lush paradise. The only pain they knew was the loss of their home and family. Many of them eventually overcame the loss and went on to form new lives, new families with other mortals.”
“Is that where I’d have gone if I had failed to,” what was she supposed to say. Conquer you? Defeat you? “Complete the Labyrinth?” she decided.
“No,” he admitted sullenly. “I wouldn’t have let you go there. Not because it wasn’t suitable, but because I would have kept you for my queen.”
Moved by his confession, Sarah looked up at him, the white of his eyes even brighter in the moonlight, “Do you suppose they’re still there? The mortals.”
“Who knows what Ranofyr has done. I was afraid to bring you here. Afraid of what Ranofyr had done while I was ignoring everything but my own selfishness, afraid that this would turn out to be what it is, a sick and depraved land where nothing joyful lives”
“Everything is comprised of good and evil, Jareth. Even me. What would the Northwest sector be without the Northeast to combat it? Perhaps it’s a good idea that Ranofyr has made what he’s made here. A haven for all things maniacal. That way they don’t go mucking up everything else that’s good and beautiful.”
“Is there nothing you can’t find the good in?” he asked her in genuine wonderment.
“There are a few things,” she admitted, Maeve being at the head of the list. Sarah rapidly ran her palms over her arms, chilled in the night air. The king removed his coat and slid it over her shoulders. When Jareth took a seat upon the sand and watched the water lap the shore, his mortal joined him by nestling between his knees resting back against him. Sleep claimed her shortly after she had gotten comfortable. For awhile he alternated between watching her and watching the waves, but eventually sleep claimed him too.
Shortly before three in the morning, Sarah awoke to a hideous caterwauling that came from the cliffs. When she realized she had fallen asleep in Jareth’s arms, his coat around her like a blanket, she managed to calm herself enough to look around before screaming. The cliffs were littered with faintly glowing, gliding streaks of sickening green. Her small hand reached for Jareth’s chest, shaking him gently she called his name.
“I see,” he told her when he woke. “The Sidhe only howl at night. It was irresponsible for me to let you fall asleep out here. We’ll go back to the castle.” They stood. Sarah began to run briskly in the thin crack of moonlight that remained. “Sarah don’t,” the king told her calmly. She turned to ask him to repeat himself and stumbled over a piece of drift wood in the sand. From the cliffs a single green light sped through the sky, howling the entire way. She saw its wretched face drawn out in pain as it hovered over her. Jareth mumbled something in his language and the woman turned, peered at him and sped away. He took the mortal’s hand, helped her to her feet and dusted her off. “You must never run from anything immortal, Sarah. It makes them very angry.”
“Well that explains the last fifteen years.”
Jareth smiled. Even in the dark, she could see his white teeth revealed by his parting lips. She smiled back. Maybe the king had used some magic, but she didn’t hear the howling coming from the cliffs anymore. She only heard the surf beside them as she let him lead her back to the castle in comfortable silence.
***** ***** *****
The king and his mortal slept through breakfast and Ranofyr let them. They had brunch instead, which suited him even better. One of his staff had the boat readied and the late meal meant they would have more time to spend on Man Island now. This pleased Ranofyr. Once they’d eaten, the Representative took them to the boat and graciously helped the mortal aboard. Next he got on and then looked foolishly at Jareth as if he had chosen to leave himself to board last.
The waters were relatively calm although they seemed to pound strongly against the small wooden craft tossing it about. White knuckled Sarah clung to the side of the vessel finding the nearing island more and more to her liking. As they made contact with the rocky shores of Man Island, a huge creature with only one arm, one leg and one eye stood nearly ten feet tall seemingly waiting for them.
“The Fachan!” Jareth cried.
“Indeed,” Ranofyr replied, “I’ve domesticated him in a way. He’ll guide the boat ashore to keep us from shattering into pieces along the rocks.”
“Lovely,” Jareth snorted.
“What’s a Fachan?” Sarah asked.
The king looked at her and back to the Representative who only snickered. “The Fachan were guards who once lived on Man Island. They made certain the mortals could not escape.”
“They feasted on them.” Ranofyr’s eyes sparkled as he revealed this fact to Sarah. Her eyes pleaded with the king to tell her it wasn’t true.
“Only the ones who tried to escape,” as if that justified it.
“Don’t. Just don’t tell me anymore.” The king looked at the Representative with daggers in his eyes, daggers made of iron. Ranofyr only smiled more broadly.
The burly giant hopped into the sea where it swam with amazing ease and speed. With his arm he dragged the boat ashore and one by one the crew stepped onto the island. The sand was sharp and rocky. Sarah left her sandals on. The lush paradise that Jareth had described the night before had vanished leaving behind desolation in its wake. “This way,” Ranofyr instructed. A way down the beach there was a clan of mermaids. All sitting in the shallow water brushing each other’s hair. One in particular singing as her hair was brushed. She herself worked on no one’s locks, merely sang, a haunting tune, but a lovely one that echoed although Sarah couldn’t guess off what. She had silver edged blue scales on her lower half and thick blonde hair which cascaded to the small of her back meeting the scales, hiding her breasts, highlighting her wide blue eyes. “That’s Lorelei.”
Sarah looked at him as if to ask, ‘Why is that important?’
“Lorelei distracts ship’s captains with her beauty and her song, until they are so distracted them that they crash their ship upon the rocks.”
“Well shouldn’t the lighthouse warn them?” Sarah protested.
“I disabled that thing years ago,” he chuckled. Lorelei flapped her tail at him as if to wave. At the end of the chain of mermaids was a withered woman whose hair no one brushed. She looked ragged and unkempt, her hair far shorter and less preened than the others.
“That one on the end. What’s her story?” Sarah asked.
“What makes you think she has a story?” Jareth countered.
“Everything has a story,” she told him before settling her curious eyes on Ranofyr.
“That’s Squant. She fell in love with a land giant who would sit on the beach and lean against the lighthouse. His pipe puffed white clouds over the water. One day she lured him to the water’s edge and wrapped her hair around him. As she did he fell into a deep sleep and she was never able to wake him. Squant cut her hair until she was almost completely bald, but for a few tufts that popped out in every direction. Kind of like yours Jareth.” He
laughed, but he was the only one.
“What became of the giant?” Sarah inquired.
“You can still see him when the tide goes out.”
The mortal cringed. The king scowled. The Representative kept walking. Just beyond where the mermaids sat they could see the shattered remains of ships who failed to fear Lorelei’s song. In silence they continued following their tour guide for what seemed an impossibly long while until they came to an open beach. On some rocks that jutted into the water seals basked in the day’s sun. On the beach, Sarah saw what looked like nude mortals frolicking and playing. As she approached, she quickly attracted their attention. What shocked her more, she couldn’t say. The fact that mortals remained here or the idea that they were all nude. “Are those..”
“Go on. Have some fun with your own kind. The king and I’ll be just over in that cove having a stem. Enjoy yourself milady.” He bowed to her. “Come Jareth, you’ll be able to see her from over there.” Begrudgingly he followed the Representative. Settled into the cove, Ranofyr handed him a stem and the two men lit up. They discussed the matters of this sector. The changes the Representative had made and the idea that Sarah had pointed out to him the night before about bad things needing a home too. It was all rather amicable to Jareth’s surprise.
Meanwhile, the mortals played volleyball on the beach. Sarah had grown oblivious to the fact they wore no clothes. She laughed and talked until the sun sunk low in the sky. They lit a bonfire and they danced. Jareth watched her from the cove. Half jealous that she seamed to be having so much fun and half thankful that this had not been as appalling an experience for her as the mainland had been.
When the rhythm of the music they played hit Ranofyr’s ears he drifted into dream. Jareth left his side to join the mortal. The others seemed rather bothered by his presence. “Perhaps you should join us,” the king suggested.
“Don’t be silly. They’re just a bit frightened because, well, you are the one who sent them here.”
Her statement forced him to think. Yes, he would have been the one to send them. So then why didn’t he recognize any of them? “Have it your way,” he told her as he walked off. The thought of not recognizing the faces of the mortals on the shore bothered him profusely. Jareth strolled through and over the rocks of the cove.
Something slick and shiny caught his attention, more grey than black, it was easily distinguishable from the rocks. His gloved hand reached down to grasp the item. It was soft, with a short but euphonious pelt. Glancing once more toward his mortal he saw one of the males sling an arm about the girl. Sarah seemed no the more put out by his affection. They chatted and chuckled. In a moment, he began to close in on the mortal, making her visibly uncomfortable, making Jareth furious.
As the king’s hand clenched into a fist, he realized, it was a seal skin he had been holding. Those weren’t mortals at all. They were the Selkie folk. The seals that could come ashore, shed their skins and frolic in the form of a human. When humans crossed their paths they seduced them, impregnating them or becoming impregnated with their shape shifting offspring. Often this took the life of the mortal host subject to the impregnating. With great purpose, Jareth made his way to the sleeping Ranofyr. “Sarah!” he called out onto the beach. “Sarah!” The mortal began walking toward him, a quizzical, but relieved expression on her face.
The Representative stirred, “What’s the commotion?”
Hitting him square in the face, the skin was cold, wet and stunk of fish. “This! Those aren’t the mortals I sent here. Those are Selkie. You sent my mortal to the Selkie!”
“The what?” Sarah asked now in ear shot.
“I’ll explain later.” By now the king’s booming shouts had reached the shores where the selkie danced and they scurried about finding their skins and making a bee line for the sea. Sarah watched in horror. “You will take us back to the castle immediately. At dawn’s light in fulfillment of the Triumvirate’s orders we will leave your land. Do what you want with the depravity you’ve collected here, but keep me and my mortal out of it.”
A timid naked female stood just behind and to Jareth’s right, quivering, wanting to asked for her skin, but obviously quite thrown by the king’s outburst. Ranofyr through the pelt to her and she scurried away. “Fine by me!” he shouted back offended at the king’s words.
They boarded the boat to sail back to the mainland. A mighty shove from the Fachan and they were bouncing about the cresting waves once more. Sarah and Jareth remained at the back of the boat while Ranofyr took the helm.
“What are Selkie?” she asked. Jareth answered her honestly, hating to see the regret in her eyes for being fooled by them. “Then where are all the humans Jareth?”
“Ranofyr has probably used them to ‘domesticate’ the Fachan.” She looked at him with squinted eyes that didn’t understand how that could be. “If you want to train a dog what do you do?”
“Give him a treat when he does as he’s told.” Jareth just looked at her waiting for the recognition to sink in on it’s own. “That’s awful, that’s inhuman.”
“That’s Ranofyr.”
***** ***** *****
In the morning they stood on the castle steps, Sarah’s arm fed protectively through Jareth’s. The king and the Representative said their goodbyes. Then Ranofyr took up Sarah’s hand, kissing the back of it and offering,
“You’re as lovely as the tales about the legend have told. Thank you for coming to visit me.”
“And you,” she reciprocated, “are as wicked as the creatures that you harbor here. If I can say nothing else it is that you are well suited to be a representative for this sector.” She really could find the good in anything.
Leave a comment or review in my LJ Community.
Please remember to include story title and chapter!