AN: Yeah, it was a pretty crappy week. Hope to have a new chapter out
in my ongoing Labyrinth fic Sacrifices soon. I was pretty down so I
wrote this instead of butchering a new chapter by ruining the mood...
LOL Hope ya'll don't mind. =) Anyway drop me a review if you are so
inclined... any would be much appreciated... Till Sacriices! ~Kei
Standard Disclaimers apply, so nah!
********************* Silence is Best *******************
Watching someone sleep is a very intimate thing. Sarah woke slowly,
with the feeling of eyes roaming over her slightly clothed skin. She
slept in a large cotton shirt that hung not even mid thigh. It was
summer and sweltering, even with the fan and air conditioning. She
had always been a light sleeper, or she had since... since dreams had
become a very frightening reality. Since Goblin Kings had been
brought to life to taunt her before her eyes.
And so she woke under his heavy gaze, under the scrutiny of a King who
ruled by more than blood, but by presence, aura, authority as well.
Sarah's eyes, slips of darkness, pools of darkened sable, fluttered
and searched, met, found, and were lost in the fearsome, heavy gaze of
he who watched her.
The Goblin King lounged in the love seat next to her bed. He looked
almost childish, with one leg curled underneath his body, the other
stretched out, the heel of his boot propped against the floor rug.
One muscled arm was drawn around a knee, the other draped across the
arm rest. His lips, full, sensual things, were curled ever so
slightly. He was still though, utterly silent, a painting, an
illusion. Not even the rise and fall of his lean chest was visible
through the layers of lace on his half open shirt. His skin, always
pale, was milky in the moonlight. His hair was lightly spun white
gold.
He was achingly beautiful.
He wasn't the least childish.
There was something in his eyes, too intimate for words. Intrusive,
yes, but he had always been intrusive. It was the level of
familarity, of knowledge, of wamrth and intense appraisal that were
new. That had been absent in the thirteen hours spent in his domain.
But they were not in his Kingdom now. She was not fighting for her
brother, a boy now almost a man, grown.
There was nothing between them, not words, not promises, not threats.
Just their eyes, locked. Hers, imploring, his, his searching and
something else... Something that escaped Sarah as she sat, as her
silk sheets spilled around her lithe body like a pool of white. Her
hair, a waterfall of dark, dark amber, contrasted sharply with the
sheets.
The curl on the Goblin King's lips widened ever so slightly.
He rose, movement liquid, fluid. Sarah watched, wide eyed, and
started to speak.
'Jareth...' made it past her lips, nothing more. Fingers, rough,
ungloved, stilled the questions, the cumbersome words. They pressed
against her lips, white against rose. Sarah accepted the silence.
He sat at the edge of the bed, close, but by no means overpowering or
intimidating. Sarah had defeated him, years ago. She was not afraid.
Was not afraid at all.
She met his gaze once more.
The other hand came up and her eyes closed with a sigh as it caressed
her face, brushed across her sun tanned cheeks before tracing her
full, dark brows, her skin warm, his cool.
The Goblin King leaned forward slightly. His own lips touched her
forehead, kissed her eyelids, drew away before he gave in to the
temptation of her captive, captivating lips.
Sarah smiled, eyes still closed, breath held, her own mouth a curl of
contentment.
When she opened them, he was gone.
For tonight.
She had not asked why or where he had been in the years that had passed.
Had not questioned his touch or his presence. There had been no words
at all.
And perhaps that was best.
Sarah laid back down, body curled between the sheets once more. She
gathered what sleep she could, before dawn, before the world she had
chosen to live in woke her. She did not grieve, she did not mourn,
either her victory of the past, or this new unexplored frontier that
was the present.
Sarah had no regrets either way.
She gathered her sleep while she could, before dawn, and before, before
she slept tomorrow night. For he would come, would sit, would watch her
steal back from fitful slumber to awakefulness. Would be there when
she first opened her eyes.
He had not told her, he had not spoken... But he had not needed to.
Sometimes you don't need words. Sometimes silence *is* best.
in my ongoing Labyrinth fic Sacrifices soon. I was pretty down so I
wrote this instead of butchering a new chapter by ruining the mood...
LOL Hope ya'll don't mind. =) Anyway drop me a review if you are so
inclined... any would be much appreciated... Till Sacriices! ~Kei
Standard Disclaimers apply, so nah!
********************* Silence is Best *******************
Watching someone sleep is a very intimate thing. Sarah woke slowly,
with the feeling of eyes roaming over her slightly clothed skin. She
slept in a large cotton shirt that hung not even mid thigh. It was
summer and sweltering, even with the fan and air conditioning. She
had always been a light sleeper, or she had since... since dreams had
become a very frightening reality. Since Goblin Kings had been
brought to life to taunt her before her eyes.
And so she woke under his heavy gaze, under the scrutiny of a King who
ruled by more than blood, but by presence, aura, authority as well.
Sarah's eyes, slips of darkness, pools of darkened sable, fluttered
and searched, met, found, and were lost in the fearsome, heavy gaze of
he who watched her.
The Goblin King lounged in the love seat next to her bed. He looked
almost childish, with one leg curled underneath his body, the other
stretched out, the heel of his boot propped against the floor rug.
One muscled arm was drawn around a knee, the other draped across the
arm rest. His lips, full, sensual things, were curled ever so
slightly. He was still though, utterly silent, a painting, an
illusion. Not even the rise and fall of his lean chest was visible
through the layers of lace on his half open shirt. His skin, always
pale, was milky in the moonlight. His hair was lightly spun white
gold.
He was achingly beautiful.
He wasn't the least childish.
There was something in his eyes, too intimate for words. Intrusive,
yes, but he had always been intrusive. It was the level of
familarity, of knowledge, of wamrth and intense appraisal that were
new. That had been absent in the thirteen hours spent in his domain.
But they were not in his Kingdom now. She was not fighting for her
brother, a boy now almost a man, grown.
There was nothing between them, not words, not promises, not threats.
Just their eyes, locked. Hers, imploring, his, his searching and
something else... Something that escaped Sarah as she sat, as her
silk sheets spilled around her lithe body like a pool of white. Her
hair, a waterfall of dark, dark amber, contrasted sharply with the
sheets.
The curl on the Goblin King's lips widened ever so slightly.
He rose, movement liquid, fluid. Sarah watched, wide eyed, and
started to speak.
'Jareth...' made it past her lips, nothing more. Fingers, rough,
ungloved, stilled the questions, the cumbersome words. They pressed
against her lips, white against rose. Sarah accepted the silence.
He sat at the edge of the bed, close, but by no means overpowering or
intimidating. Sarah had defeated him, years ago. She was not afraid.
Was not afraid at all.
She met his gaze once more.
The other hand came up and her eyes closed with a sigh as it caressed
her face, brushed across her sun tanned cheeks before tracing her
full, dark brows, her skin warm, his cool.
The Goblin King leaned forward slightly. His own lips touched her
forehead, kissed her eyelids, drew away before he gave in to the
temptation of her captive, captivating lips.
Sarah smiled, eyes still closed, breath held, her own mouth a curl of
contentment.
When she opened them, he was gone.
For tonight.
She had not asked why or where he had been in the years that had passed.
Had not questioned his touch or his presence. There had been no words
at all.
And perhaps that was best.
Sarah laid back down, body curled between the sheets once more. She
gathered what sleep she could, before dawn, before the world she had
chosen to live in woke her. She did not grieve, she did not mourn,
either her victory of the past, or this new unexplored frontier that
was the present.
Sarah had no regrets either way.
She gathered her sleep while she could, before dawn, and before, before
she slept tomorrow night. For he would come, would sit, would watch her
steal back from fitful slumber to awakefulness. Would be there when
she first opened her eyes.
He had not told her, he had not spoken... But he had not needed to.
Sometimes you don't need words. Sometimes silence *is* best.