Caelia's Tale

‘Kneel, Caelia,’ Goroth commanded.

Sarah was distracted by Jareth, but managed to do as she was told, slipping down first on one knee and then the other, hands clasped behind her back.

Her eyes remained constantly on him. He was just how she remembered… well, just as she thought she had dreamed before this world came back to her. His hair was fair and blonde, with strange highlights here and there of faint silver or blue. His eyes were different too, the pupil in one much larger in the other giving him an intense, surreal gaze. He was looking back at her, but Sarah realised then that he didn’t recognise her.

It came as a shock. Her memories of running the Labyrinth were all but complete now, including the feelings he seemed to have for her back then. There was no sign of recognition; he looked upon her as a perfect stranger, even if he seemed to appreciate her gleaming skin and shape.

Sarah supposed that these Kings that stole children away and forced their protectors to try and earn them back did this sort of thing so often, each victim blurred into the next. He had probably found a thousand girls like her attractive and offered them all the same promises of his devotion.

Sarah dropped her eyes and realised they were still talking about her, but also addressing the crowd.

‘And so with this gift of a mortal girl named Caelia, I bind our kingdoms with trust and loyalty. Hail, King Jareth of the Goblins!’ Goroth raised his goblet and the rest of the room followed suit, cheering and then drinking.

After the cheering died down, Jareth cleared his throat and raised his own goblet.

‘Thank you King Goroth, I am most flattered by this gift. He told me had something special for me, but I wasn’t quite expecting this,’ he said with charm, gesturing to Sarah.

The other party guests tittered in response to his joke and he smiled, a mask of royal smugness firmly in place.

‘I promise to take the very best care of her,’ he added and then drank from his goblet with a flourish, at which everyone cheered again.

It occurred to Sarah eventually that this meant she was not going to die.

The poor women down in the dungeons had obviously heard rumours about the selected victims being prepared for some sort of event, taken along to a party and then never returning the following day. Slaves were obviously given as gifts and that was how Goroth ‘disposed’ of the girls he had grown tired of. She wished she could get a message back to the dungeons to tell them the truth so they wouldn’t worry any more, but that would be impossible.

Well, there was nothing she could do now. She would try and speak to someone in the Goblin kingdom, maybe even Jareth himself to try and help them out.

She couldn’t help but smile to herself, just a little bit. None of them were meant to die.

Since a few months ago, nothing had gone right for her and now finally one thing had gone her way. Part of her had been terrified of dying, but part of her was ready for the peace, she realised. Her lifestyle was unbearable now and she hated everything, every last little thing, about her life now, but dying would have been a crude end.

There was always that tiny chance she could escape. What she would do if she managed that was still in question, but anything had to be better than this. She remembered a few things about the Goblin castle and it might just be possible to get away…

The party had begun again and people were dancing to some strange music, coming from a troll band at the far side of the room. People were drinking from indigo fluted glasses and talking and laughing. Goroth remained on his throne with Jareth by his side, now sitting casually on the arm of the throne as they chatted.

Sarah watched them both. They looked sort of similar, only Goroth was not as comely as Jareth. The way Goroth’s features were placed, along with his penchant for all things dark and morbid did nothing for her. But Jareth was like an opalescent light in this dark room, this room where she had suffered so much. It wasn’t just because of the grey and white he wore in contrast to the black of everybody else’s clothes, he was different somehow. Milder… or was she fooling herself?

‘Come here Caelia,’ Goroth said, extending a hand to her.

Sarah stood and moved slowly towards them. Her body still shone from the fragrant oil and her hair remained tousled and alluring. She closed her eyes fleetingly, before opening them again and looking to her former Master.

‘You will travel to King Jareth’s kingdom with him now, where you are to assume the same role as you have had here with me. I expect you to represent me with excellent service, otherwise you will return here and be punished beyond your wildest nightmares. Are we understanding this, girl?’ he said, watching her carefully.

Sarah swallowed and quickly stole a glance at Jareth, who was watching her with equal concentration. She nodded in understanding and looked back to Goroth.

‘Do you have anything you want to say?’ he asked.

Sarah thought for a moment and then Caelia’s voice said, ‘thank you for having me here Master, I hope to see you again someday,’

‘You will,’ Goroth laughed.

‘She really is a very fine gift, Goroth, you’ve surpassed yourself,’ Jareth said, tilting his head and looking over her chest and stomach lingeringly.

‘You’re quite welcome to her. She has served me well and now will serve you,’ Goroth stood then and came behind her, lifting one of her hands above her head and pulling her backwards so her back was tightly pressed against his stomach. He held her possessively, one hand keeping her arm in the air and the other coming to rest over her navel.

Jareth stood before her and now she could look him in the eye without turning away. It didn’t matter now if Goroth saw her looking at someone else, because this was her new Master. Jareth looked her in the eye and staring back, Sarah wondered if maybe he did recognise her? Perhaps he was just playing it cool in front of the Troll King…

But looking into those eyes, she couldn’t decide. He looked over her body, an amused smirk on his lips. She remembered the last time she saw him smile like that, back when she ran the Labyrinth. He had spirited her away to a ballroom and try as she might to try and find him, she only saw glimpses of his smirk between the faces of party guests. That was before they danced though…

‘If you continue to paw at her like that, I shall have to have her disinfected,’ Jareth said, his eyes narrow and icy, despite his smile. Goroth laughed from behind her, the hand on her navel travelling up to hold one of her breasts. How his touch revolted her. Finally, she looked away from Jareth, looking down at the floor from her awkward position.

‘I shall miss this one, but do excuse my manners. She is yours now and it’s far time you took her home and enjoyed her,’ Goroth lowered her arm that he had kept aloft and then with a jokingly begrudging expression, passed her over to Jareth with a shove to her lower back.

She stood directly in front of him, staring through the strange crescent-shaped pendant around his neck. He raised an arm and touched his forefinger to her slave collar, which made it grow warm for a moment before it disappeared. Then he moved his hand back and a crystal orb appeared out of nowhere – just like before. The orb danced between his dextrous fingers before turning into a new collar, one that was shaped like his pendant, flat on his hand.

‘Do I not have to earn that?’ Sarah uttered, her eyes on the elegant collar.

‘Not when you are being presented as a gift,’ Goroth silked, a few feet behind her now.

‘You enter directly into my ownership and your behaviour is assured from the gift giver. Should you be no good to me, I could send you back here, that is how I know I can collar you at this stage. You are pre-trained,’ Jareth explained, lifting the dark tresses of her hair away from her throat to place the collar there.

Sarah looked up at him; he was still so much taller than she. He looked down at the collar now that it was in place and then motioned for her hand. She took his hand and squeezed it, despite herself. She was just so glad to see a face she recognised.

‘Time to go, Goroth,’ he announced, puzzled at her affection.

Goroth laughed again, ‘yes, you have the whole night ahead of you.’

*

Outside the castle stood a magnificent horse and carriage. She didn’t remember anything about horses last time, her method of travel had been a little more illusive, but here everybody seemed to travel this way now. The horse was actually a unicorn, a pale brown one with a beautiful spiralling horn that caught the blue glow of the moon perfectly. Sarah stared in wonder as Jareth’s hand on her back guided her past them and up into the carriage itself.

‘Caelia, we need to talk,’ he said as he took a seat beside her.

‘Alright…’ she replied, still unaccustomed to hearing her own voice and the slight croak it bore now through lack of use. She tucked her arms about her waist and leant forward, so that her long hair covered her breasts.

‘You are my slave and you will be treat as such, that is the law with such things in our world, but I do not do things like Goroth,’ he said.

Much to her shock, he sounded almost apologetic for the state she was in. Could this now be a dream?

‘I do not agree with brutality, even if I do believe in submission. I do not hit and I do not…’ he looked down at her torso then, as if noticing something for the first time, ‘he broke one of your ribs didn’t he?’ he asked, startled.

‘Yes… well, I wasn’t sure if it was broken or if it had just fractured…’ she said, feeling stupid for no reason she could come to.

‘How did that happen?’ he asked.

‘Well, he told me I was to leave his service and I begged him to keep me and he got mad and kicked me down some stairs,’

Jareth exhaled slowly, his eyes calm but tinged with something close to disgust.

‘How did you know that? Can you tell by looking?’ Sarah queried.

‘It is a magical ability we have, a healers eye. I will see that it is mended when we return to the castle. Does it give you pain?’

‘Not as much as at first. It is uncomfortable though,’

Jareth nodded, looking her over again. This time when his eyes roamed over her flesh, she didn’t get the feeling he was ravishing her with his imagination. This time she could tell he was looking for other injuries. Most of them were obvious even to the mortal eye; such as the bruises on the backs of her thighs that were still livid and purple and the mottling of faded puncture wounds on her chest and arms. She was still malnourished and her skin showed evidence of that, appearing slack and pale.

‘That is the worst of it,’ he confirmed, looking back to her eyes again.

A few moments of silence passed, where Jareth looked out of the window, chewing on the knuckle of an elegant, thin finger, deep in thought. Sarah watched him, taking in every detail she hadn’t seen in ten years. He hadn’t changed, but of course, she had changed very much. No wonder he didn’t recognise her, the last time he saw her she was a little shorter, a little smaller, a lot less developed and feminine, her entire look had changed. She was a woman now.

‘I do not intend to mollycoddle you Caelia, I am still your Master. You will not be beaten and I will feed you sufficiently, but you must honour me all the same,’ he turned to look at her, dropping his hand back to his leg and raising his eyebrows. She wondered if maybe she was his first slave.

Sarah nodded, listening to every word he said. It would still be rape, but without the sickening violence and constant punishment, plus with the addition of regular meals, Sarah knew she could do this. Do it and even be content one day, perhaps.

‘I do not expect to be called Master however, that never rang true to me somehow. I prefer to be addressed as ‘your Majesty’ and I wish you to remember that,’

‘I will, your Majesty,’ Sarah replied with a polite nod of her head.

‘Good,’ Jareth smiled faintly, his eyes on hers.

*

Back at the castle, a doorman helped them both out of the carriage and then Jareth turned, first of all giving some sort of payment to his doorman and then to get something out of his shirt pocket.

He withdrew a long silver chain with a clasp at one end and a loop at the other. Sarah had not been on a leash yet and though the thought bothered her a little, she lifted her chin for him when he moved his hand to attach it to her collar and followed him obediently when he motioned for her to follow.

The steps to the castle were many, but she kept up with him despite her lack of energy. It was a cold night and yet she couldn’t feel it. Something felt safe here. She knew she was probably just maddened by everything and the sense of being near something and someone familiar was just too overwhelming, but it felt good.

The huge castle doors opened as they arrived and inside, Jareth removed the owl feather cloak from his shoulder and let it fall to the floor.

‘We will go to my study now for a talk, alright?’ he asked. He let go of the leash handle then and reached up to remove it from her collar. Bundling it in his gloved fist, he tilted his head and raised his eyebrows, waiting for an answer.

‘Yes, your Majesty,’ she said, feeling absurdly shy.

*

Jareth’s study was teeming with books on half collapsed old shelves. Each wall had huge stained glass windows featuring different types of goblins at work and at play and in the centre of the room, a large wooden desk with a blue leather chair sat, with piles upon piles of scrolls and feather quills. A fire roared in the corner and on the floor in front of it lay a dark blue rug, along with some cushions and more piles of books.

‘Take a seat,’ he offered, waving his hand towards the rug and pillows before the fire.

Sarah went to where he indicated, dropping to her knees and putting her head down, hands behind her back. He pulled the seat out from behind his desk and sat on it, putting his feet on the desk and a hand behind his head.

‘Oh, none of that kneeling nonsense please, tra la la. Just sit as you normally would,’ he said, his eyebrows risen at the extent of her subservience.

Sarah looked up to him and his familiar casual posturing and then sat back with her legs crossed on a big squashy cushion. After sleeping on hay for so long, it felt as though she were sitting on a pat of melting butter and her knees sighed pure relief.

‘Should I not kneel at all now?’ she asked, just to make sure.

‘I expect you to be at my feet when we are seated, but the kneeling is not really my thing to be honest. I find it all a bit… well, it panders to the male ego a bit too obviously,’ he laughed lightly and she couldn’t help but smile inside, agreeing completely but not having the confidence to say so.

‘I have heard things about Goroth’s girls,’ he said, his tone changing from mirthful to serious as quickly as the subject change, ‘and though I have never received one as a gift, rumours have been rife as to his cruelty. I need not ask you if he has treated you with harmful intention, I can see it all over you. You look ashamed and worn and I pity you for that,’

Sarah nodded, her eyes prickling but the tears not quite threatening to fall.

‘Your life here will be different, but also very similar to what you know. I expect you to behave with appreciation of my hospitality. I think respect is the most important thing you should remember. If anything you think of saying or doing feels disrespectful, then do not do it. I would like you to feel relaxed around me, but mindful of your place,’

Sarah nodded again.

‘As far as I am concerned, you will not see Goroth again. Though you may receive correspondence from him as to the well being of your child… Legacy, is it?’

‘Yes, that’s her name,’ Sarah uttered, grateful at the mere idea of news. Goroth had not mentioned Legacy to her once since she arrived in the Underground, but if Jareth could arrange that she would be eternally in his debt.

‘From now on you will sleep in a room next to mine and you will be available to me when I require you,’ he removed his legs from the desk, stood leisurely and then wandered over to a dresser near the door. Atop that was a jug and a couple of goblets. He filled one and then the other silently, as though he were thinking to himself. He returned and stood in front of her, holding both goblets.

‘I do wish you to bathe daily and keep yourself in shape. We have a working relationship now and we’re both going to have to make this work. I do not enjoy a miserable slave and I am sure you do not appreciate an angry owner, do you?’

Sarah shook her head and then he passed her a goblet. Crouching down by her side he took a sip from his elderberry wine and looked at her, the fire jumping and cracking in the hearth.

‘When I first saw you tonight, you looked familiar. I cannot trace you though… we haven’t met, have we?’ he asked, frowning a little, his eyes searching her.

Sarah swallowed some wine also, the goblet incredibly heavy in her weak arms.

She looked back into his eyes and though she longed to tell him she was Sarah Williams instead of Caelia, that she was the arrogant little brat from ten years ago that he had seemingly craved the affections of, she could not. She couldn’t find it in herself to tell him and so instead of returning the memories it seemed he had also lost since they had last met, she shook her head and smiled.

‘We’ve never met, but a lot of people tell me I look familiar. I think I have one of those faces,’

‘Yes, I think you do…’ he sipped at his wine again, his eyes smouldering from the fire.