Chapter Five
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After the first few days of routine Council business, which Lizzie impatiently sat through as required per her agreement with her parents, she was finally set free to explore the Council Complex and Camlann itself with Lady Fena, Sir Didymus, and Alia attending. Gratefully, she left her parents to deal with the nine Council members without her. How they tolerated the tedious, mind-numbing, formal, day long procedures Lizzie would never understand and secretly hoped she'd never be required to subject herself to the Council again.
Instructed on the unexpectedness of potential time slips, both Lady Fena and Lizzie were given extensive details on what to do and how to handle them should one happen to Lizzie while in Lady Fena's presence. Sarah specifically told Lizzie to remain calm during the slip and explained that she would remember nothing as it occurred and it would seem as though no time passed to her. Lady Fena was instructed to wait in the area where the slip occurred until Lizzie returned which may be seconds, minutes or possibly hours.
Lady Fena escorted the three through the extensive Council grounds initially, introducing Lizzie to the varied diversions the Complex provided. From the exotic gardens, the private restaurants, and the myriad entertainments of music, art, and the main library; Lizzie enjoyed them all. Lady Fena's presence, meanwhile, kept gawkers and those wishing the Goblin Kingdom ill a safe distance from Lizzie; something which invited a false sense of security for the young princess.
"I don't see what they're so worried about," Lizzie complained to the gryphon, "there's nothing dangerous here."
Lady Fena cocked her head down to the young lady, her large crystalline gold eyes shining in dismay. "The danger may not be apparent to you, Lizzie, but I assure you it exists."
"When can we see Camlann?"
"Perhaps tomorrow, there are several appropriate locations that I expect you will enjoy."
"More gardens and libraries?" Lizzie stated blandly earning a rumbling chuckle from Fena.
"You lack enjoyment for these things?" Fena asked sardonically knowing very well that Lizzie did.
"Don't tease me." Lizzie pouted. "Sir Didymus would never mock me, he's my true friend." Lizzie wheedled dragging to old fox into the discussion.
"You may be assured of my resolute devotion, Your Highness." Sir Didymus proclaimed while Fena snorted inelegantly; a sound which generated a brisk wind blowing Lizzie's hair about.
"Sir Didymus, your devotion is exceeded only by your soberness." Lady Fena replied with her caustic wit.
"Many thanks to your compliment, Lady Fena," Sir Didymus said, his voice full of pride as Lizzie rolled her eyes, Alia chirped her laughter, and Fena merely chuckled again.
"Lizzie, your parents were very specific as to their requests where I may escort you. Please do not request more of me than I am able to bestow."
"Yes, Lady Fena." Lizzie respectfully answered as she formulated her own plan to explore the city.
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Fiana retired early, eager to distance herself from Cashel after her inadvertent allowance of his attentions days earlier. Regrettably she knew her reprieve to be temporary, as always, when she heard his entrance through her private chambers. His heavy boot steps echoing from the main living area and telegraphing his temper; Fiana sat at her vanity bracing for his inevitable explosion.
"You've been hiding yourself again, Fi. You know how that displeases me." He told her sternly after smashing open her bedroom door. He strode up to her, his quicksilver cape fluttering behind him and his long red hair streaming down his back. Fiana watched him in her mirror, watched his face twist in an odd mix of anger and passion; his eyes brightened as they caught hers in the mirror while his lips turned down and curled.
Once, over 500 years ago she thought him handsome, beautiful even but now his features only inspired her revulsion. Things were different between them, she was different, and everything else was different. Some small part of her heart tried to feel Cashel's pain as she continued to watch him rant at her in the mirror but no true emotion surfaced. No compassion welled up from her being for the man who placed his hands on her shoulders and shook her for a reaction.
"Are you listening, Fi?" Cashel gripped her shoulders shaking her soundly trying to gain any response as she stared at him from that damned mirror. Her silvery eyes catatonic to his frustration; always she closed herself away from him, forcing him to draw her back. Cashel's anger rose and he felt his control slip; the desire for the woman he loved overwhelming his better sense. He lifted her from her vanity seat and spun her in one single motion until she stood before him, blinking.
The slap he delivered to her face reverberated in the bedroom and rang in his ears. Fiana's head silently flung to one side and hung for a moment before she returned to face him.
"Are you now improved?" She asked her tone hard and mocking.
Cashel's frustration blended suddenly with rage, long festering rage overdue for release. One large hand of his circled her throat and pulled her close to his face until their lips brushed together.
"Tis you in need of improvement, Love." Before Fiana could retort he forced his mouth upon hers, his hand still partially choking as he roughly kissed her. Fiana attempted to keep her mouth closed but he was able to work his way inside as she eventually gasped for breath. Quickly, Cashel spun her towards her bed and pushing her backwards they both fell upon the luxurious silk duvet.
He kept his hand around her throat and used his greater body weight to entrap her, however Fiana didn't fight him as she knew it would only prolong and worsen the event. She lay unresisting as a nonparticipant to this violent act. Cashel's searching hand worked her dress up as his one knee wedged her legs apart after working his trousers open. She felt his engorged manhood hot against her bare leg and turned her head away; he didn't noticed as he engaged in biting her breasts through her bodice. A wave of disgust swept through Fiana and she prayed to the Gods he would be quick this time.
His passion and frustration must be great indeed because after several hard, forceful thrusts inside of her, each one painful and tearing, Fiana could tell he grew close. His panting breath on her neck quickened and he grunted loudly; his hand tightened reflexively on her throat cutting off her breath for a moment before finally releasing completely. A deep sigh escaped from Cashel and he withdrew himself from her then stood at the side of her bed resettling his clothing.
He looked down at Fiana, compassion blazing in his eyes as he observed her unmoving on the bed staring away from him. "Why must you always make this so difficult between us?" Cashel asked with a vague note of begging. "Fi, I love you so much." He sat on the edge of the bed and leaned on one elbow so that he might catch her gaze. "If you would only allow me to love you properly, why won't you love me?" Cashel finally did beg.
Fiana turned from the wall to meet his gaze. "You know why I'll never love you! Must we discuss this tedious subject again?" She spat at him and sat up swiftly, moving away and pulling her dress down. She ignored the fresh blood she saw and felt running down her thighs. Cashel sat up as she did, frowning.
Viciously, he said, "He'll never love you." Fiana leaned over and slapped him, mimicking his earlier action, and scrambled from the bed.
"Get out! Get out of my chambers!" She shrieked incensed at his allegation, her face blotchy, her eyes dilated.
Cashel stood once again and shrugged at her emotional display, his face softening. "May the Gods have mercy on you, Fi, until later." He bowed his head swiftly and swept from her bedroom as quickly as he arrived. He heard screaming and items smashing echoed behind him as he exited her living area.
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Nearing the end of their fifth day of routine Council business and finally the Council members opened the floor to scheduled petitions and hearings. Required to sit through the entire week of political meetings, petitions, hearings and any criminal punishments tried both their nerves. Eventually, the Goblin Kingdom's scheduled petition appeared in the rotation roster and the herald formally announced their possession of the floor.
"Your Majesties," The High Lord Councilman Tignach greeted them from the raised, narrow dais and table stretching the greater length of the main Council Chamber. "The Council formally acknowledges the Goblin Kingdom's petition, King Jareth and Queen Sarah; we are honored to meet with you once again regarding this matter." The eight other Council members of varying age and sex but all Fae nodded in their direction. Dozens of other rulers and dignitaries of the Underground turned to witness the Goblin King and Queen's greeting in the large, public forum.
"Lord Tignach, "Jareth stated formally adding a slight head bow while Sarah dipped her head as well. "We, too, are honored to be in attendance to the Council. We hope to reach an equitable solution to this dilemma."
"King Jareth, am I to presume the dilemma is unchanged from the last petition brought before this Council?" Tignach asked.
"With increased activity but otherwise, yes, my Lord." Jareth replied. The previous two petitions they presented to the Council detailed the animosity and long running plot from The Labyrinth in which it had attempted to bring about Jareth's death and its freedom from Jareth's control through Sarah's defeat of The Labyrinth's riddle. They feared if another Runner claimed victory it would allow The Labyrinth the opportunity to gain its partial freedom again and initiate a new plot against them and eventually the entire Underground; hence, their reasoning for wanting to end The Game.
"Explain this increased activity." Lady Councilwoman Severin asked from the far end of the dais.
Sarah spoke up to this as she formally answered all Summonses. "My Lady, we've seen a dramatic increase in the number of wished aways the last several months, up from an average of one a month to nearly six a month, every month."
"But there have been no victors?" Lady Severin added.
"No, my Lady, but we've increased the difficulty of the tests and riddles while also adding more temptations during the initial wish invocation." Sarah explained.
"But this is excellent news!" Lord Tignach exclaimed. "The adoption rate has increased without further risk." Jareth ground his teeth to keep from shouting at the fool.
"It is not excellent news, my Lord." He said loudly instead. "Every wish invocation carries an increased risk for losing control of The Labyrinth and its power."
"And the magic of the invocation is changing somehow." Sarah added causing Tignach to scowl at her and reply in a sharp tone.
"How can this Council be sure that the Goblin Queen isn't jealously defending her title of Champion? Perhaps she might prefer to end The Game never to relinquish her position of only the Runner to claim victory?" Tignach sneered showing his contempt for the new Goblin Queen and both Sarah and Jareth gasped in surprise. Tignach had never acted so blatantly against them before but none of the other Council members appeared surprised; in fact they appeared complicit.
"That is ridiculous!" Sarah sputtered, "How dare you accuse me of such a thing!" Jareth laid a calming hand on her shoulder but turned his glowering face to the Council.
"I can assure the Council that is not the Queen's motive." Jareth leaned forward resting his hands upon the table before them. "We both have only the best interests of the Underground in mind and the power of The Labyrinth is a significant risk if it were to gain its freedom. We only ask permission to end The Game thereby eliminating the risk."
Lady Severin spoke again, her voice firm, "The Game has been an exceptional source for new bloodlines for our society for almost 10,000 years. This Council would be negligent to end The Game over such a miniscule risk; as Queen Sarah is the only Champion the possibly of another within 10 millennia is unlikely."
Abruptly, Sarah felt the onset of a time slip filter through her magically and physically, bringing goose bumps over her skin and a strong sense of dismay. Jareth's head snapped in her direction as he sensed the change and he reached futilely towards her as she evaporated, leaving behind shocked expressions in the Council Chamber from the members and public witnesses. Gritting his teeth and squeezing his eyes shut, Jareth dreaded facing the Council after Sarah's inadvertent desertion; they would not take this kindly.
"King Jareth, what means this uncalled for departure of your Queen?" Tignach demanded rising to stand behind the dais and leaning forward on his hands, his voice strident. "This Council has yet to rule on your Kingdom's petition and Queen Sarah sees fit to quit these proceedings upon her own agenda?"
"My apologies, Lord Tignach, an unavoidable Summoning occurred." Jareth smoothly lied. "And as you know we are Bound to the Summoning magic above and beyond the Council's purview." None outside the Goblin Family and their trusted friends knew of the time slips and they preferred the secrecy. Hoping Sarah might returned quickly, he kept Tignach distracted for several minutes but when Sarah's slip lasted longer the Council grew impatient at the perceived offense. Jareth marveled at their hypocritical behavior as they maintained direct control over the decision to keep the magics in place that controlled the Summonses, which could happen during a petition, and yet they found offense at the invocation of said magic.
Lady Severin interrupted another Council member speaking with Jareth, "It is apparent the Queen will not be reappearing soon, I move that we deny the current petition on grounds of non-participation."
"Lady Severin, I beg to differ. I am intimately involved and present. I strongly request the petition be heard today." Jareth insisted. Ever since the Council learned of his change in Kingship their perception of his command changed as well. Power, control, and magic were everything in the Underground. Once he was known publicly as a diminished King it inevitably followed that his power status reduced. Jareth sensed the disdain of the Council members, his fellow Fae, and even some of the other non-Fae species occupying the Chambers as he pleaded their case. Years before he would never have deigned to speak as such to anyone and especially not to the Council of Fools—as he thought of them.
"I agree with Lady Severin; without Queen Sarah it is best to postpone the petition put forth by the Goblin Kingdom regarding The Game. " Tignach faced an exasperated Jareth whose facial muscle presented a subtle twitch as his only outward expression of his emotions. The remaining Council members quickly voiced their positive votes to the motion and Tignach signaled his ruling with a sharp strike of his gavel. "King Jareth, this Council rules to delay any official decision regarding the Goblin Kingdom's petition on The Game. Your Kingdom is welcome to reapply the petition in one year."
The Council members harrumphed at a successful conclusion and moved to break for the afternoon. The nine members shuffled from the dais, cheerful conversation filtered to Jareth as he sat heavily in the stiff wooden chair behind him. He rested his face in his right hand, pinching in nose between his fingers and slumped in the chair; uncaring who might witnessed his distress. Several minutes later Sarah reappeared in the exact same spot, in the exact same physical position she had been standing in when she disappeared; she quickly glanced around realizing the situation had drastically changed when she noticed the lack of a Council and a slumped Jareth.
"Oh, hell...we lost didn't we?" She commented bluntly, taking the sit next to him as he look over at her.
"You noticed did you?" He replied with thick sarcasm. "I told them there was a Summoning but it was irrelevant. They placed our petition on postponement for one year because of your departure."
"Oh, Jareth. I'm sorry." She frowned and her position quickly mimicking his but he waved off her apology.
"It's irrelevant, I highly doubt it would've mattered. I could already tell they weren't inclined to acquiesce to our request." He turned in his seat, his eyes meeting hers. "In fact, Precious, it is my opinion the Council will never grant us permission to cease The Game."
"So what do we do?" Her voice filled with anxiety for their future options.
"I have an idea but we mustn't discuss it here." He motioned for her to stand and follow him from the Council Chambers, which she did, and they returned to their private quarters.
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Sneaking away turned out to be incredibly easy Lizzie discovered. While her parents dealt with the Council for their fifth day, Lizzie excused herself from any afternoon plans with Lady Fena by claiming a combination of exhaustion and migraine headache. Unfamiliar with the concept of a headache but aware that Mortals turned Fae suffered widely differed aliments than gryphons, Lady Fena accepted Lizzie's excuse without question and escorted her to the private chambers with Alia in attendance. Sir Didymus excused himself to the living area while Lizzie shut her bedroom door.
After waiting an hour Lizzie checked on Sir Didymus and found him sleeping on the very comfortable recessed couch pit in the center of the living area; his heavy snores punctuated by an occasional whisker twitch. Another opportunity would not present itself, so she—with Alia tucked on her shoulder—snuck from the private quarters, double checking the main hall and finding no sign of Lady Fena. Within minutes they were free from the private wing and in the large public forum of the Council Complex where she had been publicly ridiculed days ago.
Lizzie's desire for adventure burned and for day she'd wanted to explore Camlann's wild niches without anyone hovering; and that's exactly what she and Alia planned on doing. Dressed casually in leather pants and boots with a tan linen tunic and leather shoulder satchel containing her necessities, Lizzie set off with a skip in her step and a very worried pixie trilling warnings in her ear.
"Your Highness, are you certain this is wise? Leaving our private quarters without a guardian was expressly forbidden." Alia whispered clutching Lizzie's braid at her right temple.
"Lia, hush! Don't call me that and I know, that's why we're sneaking out, remember?" Lizzie said as she strode confidently through the main Complex entrance; the same entrance their palanquin entered earlier in the week. A tall, lithe figure followed an unaware Lizzie through the main entrance; the figure cautious to remain unobtrusive yet closes to the young Fae.
"But if something should happen..."
"I know more spells then they realize and what could happen? Camlann is safe enough. We're just going to explore for a bit, maybe find Fae my own age for a change." She shrugged and her head swiveled as she took in the sites of Camlann outside of the Complex. The buildings were a mix of ancient and new stonework, plain and ornate, rough and smooth with no particular order to any of them. The streets, mainly flagstone of dull gray, varied from quite narrow to extremely wide thoroughfares which were lined with colorful signs denoting businesses. Lizzie could see side streets which looked to be more residential with bright facades of painted, carved stonework—many quite intricate and tall.
"Look how exquisite the stonework is, Lia! Have you ever seen such craftsmanship?" Lizzie exclaimed.
"Indeed, I have not, Lizzie. It is wondrous. Perhaps we should return now." Alia suggested after craning her head about admiring the stunning architecture.
"Are you crazy? We just got free. How about something to eat? I see some food stalls ahead." And Alia caught the wafting scent of fresh, cooking pastry; a weakness for the pixie.
"Well...perhaps just a small bite of pastry?" She caved. Lizzie worked her way through the street crowd careful not to bump anyone too roughly as she made her way towards the stalls. As she pushed her way through the crowd a strange sensation skittered over her skin raising goose bumps and made her head feel rather muzzy. A second later Alia was hovering in front of her face repeating her name.
"Lizzie, you're back!" Alia had to leap from her shoulder once Lizzie evaporated suddenly to keep from crashing to the ground. She hovered nearby for several minutes until the Princess returned, a few passer-bys grunting in surprise and cursing at her.
"Did I slip?"
"Yes, you were gone for a few minutes. How do you feel?" Her voice was full of concern.
Lizzie moved all of her extremities, "I feel fine, normal. Huh...that's weird, it's like it took no time at all. Come on, let's get that pastry." She said and was off quickly but to her previous mission while Alia gave a resigned sigh.
"What will trade for a pastry?" She asked the vendor, an older Elven male dressed plainly who considered her question thoughtfully for several moments before answering.
"What useful spells can you do?" He asked gruffly.
"Cleaning spells, clothing manifestation, transmutation of simple objects, do you have anything specific in mind?"
"I'm quite old and it's difficult for me to move these days. I'll give you two large pastries for a cleaning spell for my entire cottage." Lizzie considered the Elf's offer which was actually a bit overbalanced to his advantage but she'd didn't mind as it was her first independent purchase.
"How large is your cottage?"
"About ten by twenty."
"Done." Lizzie twisted her right hand and wrist conjuring a perfectly clear crystal perching on her fingertips which she passed over the booth's table. "One cleaning spell." He accepted it in both hands, a grateful look in his rheumy eyes.
"You're very generous, young lady. You may choose any two pastries that you like." He swept one hand over his selection of delectable pies. Lizzie nudged Alia, urging her to choose one.
"The fruit pastry, Your Highness."
"Lia!" She scolded before pointing out one of the fruit pies and a cheese one to the old Elf who wrapped both in parchment and handed them over to Lizzie. They strolled away from the vendor, both waving. Lizzie broke off a small piece of pastry for Alia to munch on and handed it to her friend who grabbed it eagerly, leaving bits of golden, flaky crust on Lizzie's shoulder. She tucked the second pie into her satchel as they walked blissfully down the crowded, noisy lane.
A large group of Fae close to Lizzie's age snagged her attention further up the street and she increased her pace to investigate. She'd been keen to meet those of a similar age and an opportunity such as this was too good to ignore. Still enjoying her pie, she approached the mixed group of male and female Fae standing heedlessly near a public fountain in the center of a spacious crossroads.
"What are you doing?" Alia asked in a panicked voice, all thoughts of her pastry forgotten as she eyed the suspicious crowd of young Fae.
"It's alright, Lia." She said her voice far more confident than she felt as she advanced. Several of the young Fae, male and female, noticed Lizzie as well and turned to greet her with ambiguous expressions. One of the older males spoke.
"Who are
you, Teensy? Little Faes like you should be home with their mothers." He said disdainfully.
"I...I just wanted to meet others my age, my name is Lizzie, what's yours?" She offered trying to sound friendly and sure of herself. Alia tugged on Lizzie's braid, anxious to be away and whispered loudly in her ear.
"Your Highness..."
"Ugh, Lia!"
"Your Highness is it?" The lead male taunted and sauntered closer making Lizzie back up a few steps. Several of the other Fae approach alongside the first male, their faces curiously grim; a stern looking female walked past the main male and stared at Lizzie.
"I know her! My mother showed me a crystal image of her from the Council public forums. She's the Goblin Princess!" The female pointed an accusing finger into Lizzie's face.
'Uh-oh.' Was the first and only thought running through Lizzie's mind as the crowd of young Fae bunched around her, faces disapproving and full of revulsion.
"You're a goblin then?" The first male stated, sneering.
"No...I'm not a goblin; I'm Fae just like you!" She exclaimed. Her heart race and her palms grew clammy. Alia buzzed and zipped her wings in warning from Lizzie's shoulders, her little face and body threatening.
"You're no Fae! Your magic is too young and incomplete, I can smell it! You're mostly Mortal and a goblin as well. You know what that means, Teensy?" Lizzie shook her head as he leered inches from her face causing her to stumble back into another of his group. She tried remembering one of her spells to her free of this mess but her mind blanked. What would they do to her? Gods, she hated the Underground!
"It means we own you, Teensy." He grinned and reached for her face causing Lizzie to shriek in surprise and conjure a Bog bomb crystal on instinct, which she smashed into the lead male's chest in a shower of stinking, green fog. He gagged, coughed, and pulled away from her yelling at his group to grab her. Lizzie twisted and tried to run through the grasping hands. Alia launched from her shoulder, trying to help by biting any exposed skin of her enemies and zipping away rapidly.
Faster than she thought possible, she was overwhelmed by the group and unable to conjure more crystals and they held her arms and hands firmly to the ground; she had yet to master non-manual manifestation. They fell upon her, calling her terrible names, ripping off her clothing, and beating her. Lizzie cried and screamed for help but other than Alia buzzing helplessly about their heads, no one seemed to care.
A blast of power swept over the group knocking every last Fae from Lizzie, leaving her alone and exposed upon the flagstone fountain yard. She'd felt the wave push her assailants from her and heard Alia buzz close to her ear making threatening trilling sounds in her defense.
"Begone with you, worthless, street vermin!" A magnificent, regal feminine voice sounded over Lizzie's splayed form; it was the most beautiful voice she'd ever heard. Opening her eyes Lizzie saw a slim, Fae woman standing near her in a fighting stance; her silver eyes glowed and her incredibly long, blond braid whipped around her body as her hands twisted and whirled preparing another blast of power. The group of young Fae scrambled from the ground where the blast threw them and after several harsh glares at the new arrival, they quickly scattered in the city streets.
The stunning Fae woman relaxed and knelt by Lizzie while Alia zipped back and forth over their heads. "Are you injured?" She asked Lizzie.
"No...No, I don't think so." Lizzie answered and pushed up to a sitting position looking over her torn, dirty clothes.
"Whatever is such a young thing doing wandering the streets without a guardian?" The woman mildly rebuked with her soft, silver eyes.
"I just wanted to explore...I didn't realize..." Lizzie stammered.
"Dear thing, your magic is very young and your transformation to Fae not yet complete. Has your family not explained to you how dangerous this can be for you?" The woman stated as she helped Lizzie to her feet. Lizzie's chin drooped to her chest.
"Yes...I just thought...well..." The woman patted Lizzie's shoulder gently in sympathy. Lizzie didn't feel the subtle magic from the woman's hand attach itself to her.
"I shall see you safely home. Where do you live?"
"We're staying at the Council Complex but I have to fix my clothes first." Calmer now, Lizzie was able to conjure a crystal without difficulty which she smashed on the stones in front of her. Once the glitter cleared her clothes and physical appearance returned to normal, clean and mended. Alia landed on Lizzie's shoulder, her wings shivering in anxiety.
"I'm so happy you're alright!"
"Lia...you're okay, too." Lizzie leaned into her friend's body which was against her face; Alia caressed Lizzie's cheek and trilled. Lizzie looked up to the stunningly, beautiful woman. "Thank you, I'm Lizzie. What may I call you?" The woman returned the smile and bowed her head shallowly.
"You may call me, Awen. Let's us be off before they return." Awen urged Lizzie in the direction of the Council Complex and Lizzie complied without hesitation, chattering at her rescuer and new friend all the way back to the Complex.
Awen smiled as she followed slightly behind the young Fae secure in the knowledge that her plan worked perfectly. The spell she planted upon the young Princess had been created by another—Gethin, Cashel's retainer—so traces of her magic would remain undetected as the tracking spell settled within the girl's aura. Awen, or as she was better known as, Fiana thought she may have lost the Princess near the food stalls but she suddenly reappeared and she continued following her until the gang attacked.
'Little Princess,' Fiana thought, 'if things were different I truly could've been your friend."
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Hope those weren't too upsetting for some but as the story progresses things will become clearer. :o)
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