I had been eighteen for just two days, but already I caught myself checking every shadow twice and jumping at each bump in the night. I didn't really believe my memory had been anything more than a strange dream, and yet the recollection of our bargain stole the breath of peace from my conscience.
What if he does come for you? What if…
After all, everything had felt so real. It had taken so long to relegate the experience to the status of one fanciful dream among countless others.
Combing my fingers thoughtlessly through my hair, it dawned on me I still held a book in my hands. East of Eden. I was so lost in my own anxious reveries, I'd completely spaced out. The sky was dark now, glowing at the edges from the light of the nearest city, and Toby had long been asleep in his room. Putting the paperback down on the vanity, I crept out the door of my room and down the steps for a night walk.
The breeze whooshed against my neck as I set a brisk pace out to where the trees grew thick and the houses thin. I loved nights like these where every street lamp glimmered with nocturnal promise as the sweet smell of flowers nestled in shadows perfumed the air. Creeping past the old park where I used to dress in costume and play pretend, I dismissed the urge to wince at the memory—no use being embarrassed of my former self. Recalling scenes of awkward transitions in high school along with the grueling lessons of social graces, my mind moved away from the foggy flashes of white owl, and the last few mystery enshrouded lines of a no longer readily familiar book.
Thunder stirred my pulse as it rumbled in the distance, growling of rain to come. The humidity had spiked and I could smell water. The lumbering storm must have gathered quickly. Familiarity guided where sight failed, and the trees rustled in a canopy above my head.
Reluctant to head back to the house, I paced slowly drinking in the pungent smell of vegetation until the first droplets found my pensive forehead. Their coolness met the heat on my face, soothing places I did not even realize had been burning. With surprise I wondered if I was pushing some sort of fever. Another round of thunder shook the forest around me and made my heart skip a beat. I hadn't seen lightning, but my gut told me I should take the faster route home.
The rain picked up along with my pace. The hurried patter of my feet was matched by the increasing onslaught of heavy, cold drops onto the pavement. I had nearly reached a jog when all of a sudden white flashed all around me, flooding my sight until I could hardly tell left from right. Vision still stunned, I felt the shock of thunder ricochet in near immediate succession. My chest was pinned with the force, and once I could breathe again the darkness had returned—only this time my eyes were blotted with the afterimage of the flash. Stumbling over the slick road I managed to press forward through the now inscrutable black. Out of the corner of my eye, an outline emerged from the chaos. My breath stuck in my throat for a second. Momentary disbelief rose and then subsided as my attention turned to the howling, wet gust drenching my face.
At last I arrived at the porch. My clothes and hair were completely soaked, sleeves sticking to the skin on my arms and wet hair dripping down my back. A grin slid up my cheek at the bittersweet memory of Merlin and my 14 year old self caught in the rain. Merlin was long gone, over a year ago. But a funny feeling wriggled in my stomach at the half-submerged memory of…
The train of thought stopped dead as I looked up to my bedroom room window. There was a light flickering. I swear I turned the lights off before leaving.
Taking a slow breath, I chocked it off to human error and headed to the upstairs bathroom to grab a towel and get ready for bed. Thick towel wrapped around my soggy head, I traipsed into my room at last, glad to see my comfy bed. I flicked the switch, crawled into my pajamas, lay the towel down on the pillow, and turned out the lights. Once I'd snuggled down under the sheets, it hit me like an ice cube slinking down my neck: the lights were off when I came in the room.
Suddenly short of breath from fear, I gripped the edge of the sheets and forced myself to strain my eyes in the dark. After awhile I managed to convince myself it'd only been a trick of the eye—perhaps a flash of moon or lightning reflected in the window. Closing my eyes, I began to drift off.
"Sarah, Sarah, did you really think I would forget our little deal…" A deep, rich male voice chided from what seemed to be the center of the room.
My eyes snapped open as I bolted upright.
Nothing. The room was empty. Did I dream that?
My heart thudded in my chest for a minute or so. I forced myself to get up and walk to the door. Peeking out at the hallway, I saw nothing. Faint snoring wafted from my parents' bedroom. Confused yet oddly drowsy, I slunk back under the covers and drifted off in no time.
A sweet sensation brushed delicately against my cheek, then in my hair—I turned my sleep-heavy head to get closer to its source.
"Sarah, Sarah, my Sarah…" whispered like thick honey into my ear.
"Jareth…" my groggy lips mouthed the words laden with unexpected longing. I felt a nameless tide well in my heart. Something deep within me wanted to follow that tide, that is, until my mind snapped brutally back to attention.
Jareth?! Real? Impossible…
"Entirely possible."
I was awake. I forced my eyes to open, half expecting the room to be empty again. But this time my gaze was met with another's. His darkened outline stood against the moonlight as it poured into the room.
"Please don't hurt me," was all I could think to say.
"You thought you had imagined me. But a bargain is a bargain, Champion."
All at once I felt very strange laying in bed before this fathomless, ominous yet magnetic promise of a man. Gracelessly I wriggled to the edge of the bed and planted my bare feet on the floor, thrusting the sheets away from my nightgown.
His eyebrows arched appraisingly at my nocturnal attire. Without realizing what I was doing I blushed and looked down, refusing to meet his face.
"Are you frightened?" It came softly, a mixture of concern and curiosity. He touched my cheek and trailed a finger gently as if to ask the question again without words. Slowly I lifted my chin and dared to scrutinize the face before me. Most of my conscious mind was still in denial that any of this was more than a dream.
"It's not a dream, Sarah."
"I know…I just…don't know how…" I shook my head, trying to clear it.
"Your home is waiting for you." His hand withdrew, but I still tingled in the places he'd touched me.
"This is magic, isn't it?"
"It's time," he uttered with subtle finality.
"This isn't fair, I…" Protest rose, I could barely come to terms with what was happening.
"You had plenty of time to prepare yourself," sternness hardened the silk in his voice.
"But all of this just feels like a dream. If it's not a dream, why does it feel like one? It's not fair, I can't go anywhere like this, not if this is real." I surprised myself with my own high pitched string of objections.
The space between us burgeoned with static charge, and I realized that my protest had fallen on deaf ears. A glittery flash blinded me a moment and when I blinked again, it was clear we were no longer in my bedroom. Thankfully some of the fog in my head had cleared too. Feeling much more alert I snapped to take stock of my new surroundings.
"Hey, this isn't the Castle Beyond the Goblin City. This doesn't even look like the Labyrinth!" I exclaimed.
"I thought we might start with an enjoyable transition, unless my Queen wishes to return home sooner rather than later…" A grin slid up the side of his face as he watched my jaw drop.
"By home you don't mean my bedroom."
"The castle."
"What is this place?"
"Emerald falls, an oasis of the In Between."
"Queen?"
"Yes, queen. Mine in fact." He purred in satisfaction. I balked.
"Kinda abrupt are we maybe?"
"I'm a fae of my word. But I thought you had learned your lesson the first time."
"You never even gave me the choice, how can this be a bargain?!" I shouted with indignation.
"I didn't say it was fair," he turned curtly on his heel before coming back around and thoughtfully placing his arms akimbo, "But I suppose if you end up hating it here, I won't keep you against your will."
"You won't?" I shot a quizzical stare. For someone willing to zap me up in a snap without so much as a how-do-you-do, this seemed out of character. He sighed, and I watched as some of the smug façade dropped from his features. Weariness shaded the corners of his eyes and mouth.
"Well, that wouldn't be any fun. And besides I want a willing queen, not some groveling nuisance." The shield went up over his face once more. I squinted trying to gauge him, memories of our old confrontation flooding back to me.
"Hmm…a groveling nuisance…" I huffed and put my hands on my hips. Two can play at this game. "So that's what I am?"
"Well I did try to woo you away and all you've done so far is whine."
"Woo?" The face I made would have made any other shrivel with discomfort, but the Goblin King held his ground.
For a few seconds neither of us spoke. Watching his eyes for the minutest suggestion or hint of his intentions, I was disarmed when I saw his piercing sphinx stare slacken.
"Yes, woo…" he harrumphed and turned his back on me. The sharp line of his shoulders met with wild hair and sleek form. My words caught in my throat. I forgot how you take my breath away.
"I really did think you were a dream. It's a little sudden like this. And well, you're not exactly human either," I fumbled, feeling feebly as though all my objections were just silly excuses dancing around the heart of the matter.
He stood staring out over the glorious system of waterfalls in the gorge below us. The sky was lavender with streaks of fiery orange and pink riding on the bellies of long, thin clouds.
"We are bound by magic and you know it. You have felt it every day since I withdrew my presence," he lanced coldly over his shoulder. At this point my eyes were totally engrossed in the hypnotic lines of his silhouette against the raging sunset.
"Feeling it's not the same as believing it."
"So you admit you felt me, and still you fight it."
"You really mean to say you've waited all this time to come and take me as your queen?"
He didn't deign to answer. Presumably, he didn't care to repeat himself on the matter. With no small air of agitation he kicked the ground with his boot and paced for a minute before wheeling on me once more.
"Sarah, don't make this difficult for me. If you please, allow me to show you our accommodations." Extending a gloved hand, he motioned to the cliff face behind us. The sound of rushing water droned from below. Giving up thought for a moment, I took his hand and let out a cry of surprise as he led us through what seemed to be a dead end in the enclave behind us. Rock wall gave way to open space where stone steps led upward. He gestured for me to go ahead of him and followed less than a foot behind as we mounted the spiral stairway, stopping before a door. Down over my left shoulder there was a gap cut out of the rock such that I could see the ledge we had been standing on as well as the gorge spreading out beneath it. To my right was more cliff face. He reached over me and opened the door in front of us, and a part of me held very still to focus on the feel of his warmth at such exquisite proximity. As the door opened, his hand guided me forward, nudging the small of my back. I fought back a shiver and tried to engross myself in the scene set out in front of me.
It was a little apartment carved into the rock—rustic though elegantly styled. To our left facing what seemed to be south were great windows with a view onto the gorge out below. Turning to wrap my head around the view, I stared stock still until I felt his hand draw tentatively down my neck.
"Do you like it?"
I jumped. His hand fell away. To my surprise, a part of me was disappointed I'd scared him off with my skittishness.
"It's beautiful," I murmured, still in awe of the panorama. The sky had turned electric blue and shadow engulfed most of the waterfalls, but I could still hear their ceaseless hum.
I turned to look at him. His eyes flickered for a moment, before I broke the spell yet again.
"I still don't really understand why I'm here, or where here is."
"Then let me show you to your room."
"I somehow get the feeling we are talking past each other here…"
"No, you're simply complicating what you already know. Please follow me."
Not knowing what else to do, I followed him down a short hallway also punctuated by windows and trailed behind him through a wooden door with an iron handle.
The room was simple. The bed sat high decked with white fluffy sheets—probably queen size or thereabouts. The room was furnished, in possession of a shelf of books, what looked like a comfortable chair, and its own window out over the falls.
"Um, thank you…" I stated with a measure of bewilderment as I walked over to test the bed.
He strutted stiffly over to the window where the night was now pouring in. One flameless lamp cast a glow over his face from the wall.
"You'll catch a chill," he muttered, and reached to close the curtains. The air still circulated, but the cool draft coming from the window abated.
Awkward silence ensued. Strange, I remember you being so…not like this.
"You're nervous," I mused in partial awe.
He sighed heavily and looked past me.
"Perhaps it was a mistake bringing you here. I apologize."
"No," I retorted, shocked at my own self-discovery, "It's very lovely here. We can stay."
"You like it then?" he raised an eyebrow hopefully. My heart shuffled in my chest at his reaction.
"Yes. I do. It's very nice." Getting up, I walked over to him and took his hand with what probably came out as a dopey smile.
"So…you're not going to fight me and tell me I'm being unfair?" he asked with mild disbelief.
"I guess not," I shrugged sheepishly.
We stood for a minute listening to the water rushing in the gorge below. At last I felt his hand squeeze mine in return, and when I didn't move, another hand reached up to touch me behind the ear. His touch soothed me, and I leaned into him instinctively. Before I knew it, he had me clasped tight in his arms. And even more surprisingly, I melted into him as though nothing could have been more natural.
Lifting my head from his chest, I was met by sincerity writ in bold across his face. The warmth of his body against mine both lulled and excited my senses.
"You're not as villainous as I remember…"
"Nor are you as testy…" he chuckled and stroked my hair.
His touch worked on me like slow fire, and even though I still felt bashful, I could not doubt the passion I felt for this man, fae, whatever he was.
"You were just a memory of a dream for so long, how can I feel like this now?" I mused as I nestled into him, "I mean everything's so strange and yet so natural. I don't understand. Real life doesn't work like this."
"I'm sorry, Sarah, if all this has confused you." His hands drew back; I felt his body recoil slightly.
"Wait…I mean…" I didn't want him to let me go and regretted that my ruminating out loud had pushed him away. Reeling at the course of my own emotional process, instinct took over where thought had left off.
Reaching for him, I pulled myself up to meet his lips. Slow and searching at first, I held my breath for his response. With little warning, his mouth gripped me, and the surge of his tongue found mine. I'm not quite sure how we arrived, but within seconds we were on the bed and my hands were greedily entangled around his head, pulling him down on top of me. His kisses came in passionate surges, and I crested on them like driftwood tossed at sea, drinking his desire like a drowning sailor gasping for oxygen. The strength of his body coiled around me and awakened fierce need in mine. I reached lower amid our frenzy, but his hand caught me as his mouth drew our dance to a slow but sensual close.
"You need to sleep," he said with me still pinned underneath him.
"We're not going to…?" I wasn't sure if I was ready, but my body was on fire for him. Just a moment ago I had been grinding my hips against his torso in time with the rhythm of his tongue. The euphoria of extreme arousal washed over my senses.
"Not until you become my queen," he uttered with unshakable resolution.
A groan escaped involuntarily from my throat.
"And that decision is not something you should make lightly," he continued, "live with me here, and if you like it, join me as my queen." His body was still enmeshed with mine. The blood pumped furiously through my thighs. But one look at his eyes delivered me from my sea of lust and brought me back to the buzzing space inside my heart.
"Probably a good idea," I panted and let my body go limp under his.
He sighed and lowered his head onto the crook of my shoulder. Hair brushed against my cheek as he nipped my neck, producing an unabashed moan of delight and longing on my part.
"After all, you've only been with me for a few hours, you may wish to pace yourself," he smirked down at me with knowing irony.
Looking up into his mischievous eyes, I let myself get lost in them.
I feel like I should hardly know you, that I do hardly know you, and yet how can you feel this familiar?
His breath brushed my face as he kissed my face and forehead several times before releasing me. The pressure of his weight gone from my body and the cool air where his warmth had once been made me ache. A part of me wanted to pull him back on top of me. But I understood what he meant. Everything was already so confusing; I didn't need to throw myself into a fit of passion without actually taking time to learn about my own heart and his. He slipped out of the room as I lay sprawled on the bed in some sweetly tormenting variety of emotional and physical shock.
You're seriously considering this? Nothing strikes you as odd here? I grilled myself and then pushed the objection aside. Anyway, I'm here now. It makes sense somehow. Besides, it's pleasant here. We'll see how I feel in the morning.
My dreams were filled with labyrinthine corridors, moving lichen, ballroom dances, old friends and a pair of uncompromising, enigmatic eyes.
I awoke to the smell of eggs and toast mixed with the fresh zest of sun, rock, and water. He makes breakfast? Stomach rumbling, I didn't have time to marvel the culinary capacities of the Goblin King. I straightened the covers and walked over to the window—the view was invigorating and breathtaking. Noting the curtains were tied back, the thought stole through my waking mind: he must have come and opened them earlier that morning. Tender, wordless intimacy.
Tiptoeing lightly out into the hall, I could smell where breakfast odors were wafting from and went the other way in hopes of finding some sort of wash room. Off of what appeared to be the living room—the room I had first seen upon entry last night—I chanced on a smallish door with a brass handle and was gratefully relieved to find a fairly modern looking lavatory.
As I emerged, my sights met with the Goblin King in a white poet's shirt and brown leather pants. Seeing him in simple yet form flattering attire sent my insides whirling with the memory of his flesh on mine. I cast my eyes to the floor in an effort to cap the flurry of emotion threatening my composure.
"Good morning," he expressed with cheerful cordiality.
"Good morning," I stammered, flashing my eyes up to meet his mesmerizing gaze for a mere instant before looking hastily over towards the window. I concentrated on fighting down all the tingles suddenly skittering through my chest.
"There's breakfast," his tone lost an ounce or two of vibrancy at my hesitant reaction.
"Yes, please," I forced myself to turn my face to him.
He extended a hand stiffly, and I reached out and took it, smiling at the contact. He led me gingerly to the kitchen and pulled out a chair at the wood table aglow with morning light. I sat and nodded my gratitude. Things were a little quiet between us, but soon a plate filled with easy over eggs and toast was staring up at me from the tabletop. He sat down with his own plate and gestured to the salt and pepper.
I couldn't help but smile and snicker at the thought of the Goblin King serving such an ordinary meal. Raising a skeptical eyebrow, he eyed me in self-defense.
"No, no, I mean thank you. It's just, well, different from when we last…" I trailed growing self-conscious.
"Don't let your eggs get cold on my account," he remarked dryly, setting into his own portion. I smiled broader and gagged the urge to laugh as I forked the half liquid yolk with genuine appetite.
"Thank you, that was delicious," I said at last.
As he came around to clear my plate, I caught him, placing my hand on his upper arm. He stopped, cocked his head subtly, as if waiting to see what I'd do. I smiled boldly up at him, and immediately some of the tension sloughed off his features.
"I don't remember us getting along like this in your labyrinth," I remarked at last, smile still pasted across my cheeks.
"Glad to know you think we're getting along now," he smirked, sending a chill of delight down my spine.
He slipped off to the counter leaving me hoping to feel his fingers on my face again.
"Um, so, what do we do here besides sleep and eat?" I ventured.
"Well, it depends," he glanced over his shoulder with an impish air. "But I suppose you might like to make yourself at home first."
"Feeling pretty homey so far I guess," I pressed my lips together and crossed my ankles. Out the window I could see there were plenty of places to explore, but a part of me could barely wait to feel his touch again. Pace yourself. I wondered vaguely if he weren't saying something similar to himself in all this.
"So as your queen, what would my duties and responsibilities be?" I furthered across the kitchen while his back was turned.
"Oh…" he hummed with amusement, "Just supervise delinquent goblins, clean out the dungeons, organize my files and anything else I'd rather not trouble myself with…"
"Uhuh," I rolled my eyes, "Somehow that job description fails to appeal. Does being your queen mean I can't go back home or have a life in my world?" I asked with returning seriousness.
"Well…it would mean certain changes," somber eyes sought mine.
"And I don't have to do anything if I don't want to, right?" I checked, recalling our last encounter.
"You are the champion of my labyrinth. I cannot, will not, force you," he responded gravely.
"So this really is a kind of trial, not a trick, like with Toby?"
"Yes, if you will." I could tell my questions were making him uncomfortable.
"And you really want me as your queen? As in by your side as a…" I was too shy to say it, but a part of me wanted like mad to know if he wanted me…as his wife.
He ignored my last question and absorbed himself in wiping the now spotless white dishes. Realizing I'd pushed him past a place of ease, I watched as he slipped silently out of the kitchen and through a door I hadn't noticed before. Waiting a second, my resolve to follow solidified and I got up after him.
I found him fiddling with a crystal, staring absentmindedly out the window. This was clearly his bedroom. To my surprise it was smaller, simpler than mine even. I crept up to him without his notice and placed a kiss on his shoulder. He tensed and pivoted.
"Sarah," his surprised whisper was tinted with tenderness.
"Jareth," I whispered back as I felt his arms snake cautiously around me. He gathered me in as I melted against him.
Our lips found each other for an instant.
"Jareth," I started, "I like it this way with you. If I am to be your queen, I want to know you. Help me."
He drew a finger along my temple, blue eyes piercing my soul.
"Your wish is my command," he responded with weary irony and the hint of a grin.
Fin