She noticed that the appointed nursemaids had been happier now that they had been relieved for the most part of their constant duties. Sarah often cared for the children during the day, occupying them until Jareth would show up and hold out his hands, taking them to their new home. Every time she felt the heartbreak she saw in his eyes.
Could he actually care for the children?
It had been a particularly colder day, a month and a half after she had arrived. She had long given up hope that she would return to her books, her cat and her brother. With no child to play with or coddle she drifted into silence wandering the ever growing path through the garden. Spying the wise man wandering past she smiled in utter joy, recognizing a new and yet familiar face.
"Hello!"
"Ohh ho ho looki here.. It's that girl that beat the King. Look look look!' the bird on top of his head cried.
"I remember … you." the man had said, it had looked like he had only walked a few steps but he sounded winded and tired. "You left this ring." he pinched the ring that she had bought at a garage sale when she had been thirteen. It had meant much to her and very little at the same time, she never missed it after leaving.
"I remember you too. How have the years treated you."
The old man smiled, "better than they've treated you Sarah. Why are you still sad?" She was shocked for a moment, staring at the deep etched lines on his face that wrinkled into a solemn expression.
"I am sad because I feel like I've wasted my life. The only reason's my books were good was because they were based upon this magical place, Toby is probably fine without me, kid's tough stuff, and my mom left when I was still a baby in the crib." She felt bitter while complaining about her life when she realise it was no longer her life. Her life was filled with babies and children and fancy dresses and a garden just for her.
The wise man chuckled when he saw the look dawn upon her, "You live here now, maybe the Labyrinth knew what was better for you before you did."
"But I still want to go home. Why do I still want to go home." She looked up, tears glistening in her eyes as she turned and ran to her sanctuary.
It had been a hard day in court and he was exhausted, physically and emotionally. Sentences, paroles, he ruled with an iron grip on his kingdom, but he tried his best to be fair and just. He had a whole library of philosophies and diaries of rulers, wisdom of the ages guiding him, but most recently he had found himself consulting his books less and his Labyrinth more. Wandering through the hedges he felt peaceful.
Until he watched a streak of a pearl coloured skirt flash past him. Curious he followed quietly and slowly, a hunch as to who it was and where she had been going. Rounding the corner to the garden he heard two sounds, one normal and one not. The normal sound was the soft steady sound of water and the hiccupping sound of tears.
"Stupid stupid, why did I ever even THINK my life was perfect." He froze, unsure if revelling himself would be more or less beneficial. "He doesn't love me, he doesn't even CARE for me, Toby will live a great life without me, I was fooling myself to think I had been making a difference, Dad and Lorraine will live a disgustingly mushy happy marriage and Mom will have forgotten about me long ago. Why did I ever think of going back. Why did I ever think coming here had helped. What the hell am I doing."
He was still unsure if turning the corner would be favourable when his decision was made for him with a soft, "Ouch, damn, oh crap an now it's bleeding." Making the choice he wandered in, feigning distraction when he conveniently 'bumped' into her. Grabbing her shoulders before she could stumble he was met with a deer-in-the-headlights look her eyes growing wide at who she had run into.
"I'm Sorry." They had both said that the same time. He looked down and noticed her hand covered in blood. Rolling his eyes he called for a cloth and wiped her hand, underneath her skin was pinkish and the cut still seeping dots. He held the cloth to her had until he realised that this was the closest they had been since the ballroom all those many years ago.
"I uh- Thank you. Jareth." He noticed that she never used his title, the names glittered and sparkled when spewed from the succubus of nobles that surrounded his castle. She was simply Sarah to him and he was simply Jareth to her. Staring into her eyes he felt a pain in his chest, that throbbed slightly before leaving.
"Not a problem, Sarah.." He dabbed the cut and certain it had stopped bleeding he allowed the cloth to vanish to wherever it had come from. Wiping her fresh tears he cocked his head to the side and frowned.
"Problems other than a disgruntled rose bush?"
"It was a cactus that was over excited." she explained, "And not really, no problems… for the most part." He sat down on the bench that was not three feet from where they had been standing far to close to each other, patting the spot next to him he smirked.
"Allow a wise old king to impart some advice." She took a tentative step towards, wary of this new found softness. He hoped that under the dusky moon light they could begin to heal a relationship that would prove most valuable to both involved. He knew of all his fawning and cooing admirer's, she was unlikely to stretch truths and fight for his attention. The efforts to the garden had solidified that. She was just a lost soul that had the misfortune of being lucky and smart and besting him once, for he realised moment's before had her collapse in the throne room been their first encounter he would already have her in his bed.
If she would have him. "What is the problem." He listened to her tale, from the first day she remembered to the day she leaned her head against the mirror and got sucked in. As she talked, he listened and the moon rose higher and higher in the sky, and yet they continued to talk, right through till dawn.
A yawn interrupted her last sentence and she sunk in her spot till her head was resting against the very back of the bench where his arm happened to be. Her head sinking into the crease of his elbow, her feet resting on his lap. He was half disgusted with his traitorous mind and body that allowed this woman-whom-he-had-only-recently-forgiven as she talked into the night till the sun broke through the darkness and stained the sky a pale pink, the same colour as her blush he noticed. He looked from the sky to the now quiet girl.
Slightly irritated and secretly tickled he carried her back to the small and simple room he had all but thrown her in when she had first arrived, not allowed to simply throw her into the night considering her position and the fact that he still held no power over her.
The room really didn't give any liberties when he noticed how close the simmering fire was to the foot of the bed and there being no closet in the room either. He assumed that a Goblin she had charmed into bringing her whatever outfit they deemed worthy of her each day. He felt slightly guilty in his earlier treatment of her, and promised that he would attempt to treat her better, since it had appeared she had come to stay.
It had been a eventful evening. She he had listened intently and learned about all aspects of her now dormant life as they had sat in the gardens. It had all be very good. The day had begun to look promising.
In the throne room she had sat and played with the most recent youth that had been wished away, by a young father wanting peace. The father had braved the King and his Labyrinth but had a few hours left. Jareth knew that he wouldn't make it. But he had hopes for the lad.
The regular meetings with nobles from across his lands continued as life does. Life will not pause because you want it too. He had learned that at quite a young age.
While he talked, his eyes drifted towards her playing with the child. A flash of her in a gown, a crown and a belly large with child raced before him before he could even tamper with the thought. He refused to allow the thoughts push him into a goal he craved so vehemently. He would not force himself upon her, it had only been the night previously he had promised himself he would attempt to like her, and it had been proving very easy with the breakfast he had invited her to share in his quarters that morning.
They had shared a stimulating conversation on the Laws of above and she had told him the story of a king who when approached by two mothers claiming one child to be there own the King Solomon had declared the child to be split in two, a half for each crying woman, to find that the real mother attempted to save the child from being sliced nipples to navel where the false mother greedily tried to take what wasn't hers. He had been delighted in some of the tales she had told and told some of his own. He had never realised how musical her voice was until that morning.
He watched as she picked up the child and wandered off to the side of the room, bouncing the babe on her hip. He imagined that she would have had much practice with the caring of her brother and all. Hearing a ruckus his eyes darted to the great doors of his court and flashed back to her handing off the child to some nursemaid. The noise grew incessant until what looked like a pauper from the fields marched his way into the room. Standing to look over the nobles and parishioners he eyed the man, "What business do you have here man?"
"My quarrel is with you Your Un-holiness. My family is starving, my wife in bed with another and my land is spoiled. You have no care for the simpleton." A large berth was given to the man, whispers echoed the hall, and eyes darted back and forth, all except for Sarah. The foolish girl moved closer to the king.
"What is it that our wise King should have done?" her voice soft and attempting charm. Her hand laid upon Jareth shoulder.. He tried to seek comfort in that. Worried at this man's cause. He did much in way of helping those pauper's that lived on the far stretches and corners of his kingdom, wondering exactly what he hadn't done more so than what he could have done.
"He is most powerful, wild temptress," The man spat at Sarah. "There is a never ending list of things that he could have done had he pulled his glorious royal head out of his royal a-"
"I will not have you insulting me In my COURT." Jareth roared. His hands fisted in ther gloves, a breath away from having the man thrown in the dungeon to rot away. The warm hand patted his arm, almost as if to say 'he's not worth it'.
"I WILL NOT HAVE MY FAMILY FALL TO PIECES YOU SCUM." with that he reached into his coat and pulled out a hand wielding a dagger, he threw aiming for the King. It happened so fast he could do nothing but wait for it to hit him.
But He missed.
But He missed.
He missed.
He missed.
The man Missed
… And hit Sarah. Right through the stomach.
It all happened very quickly after that. The guards restrained the man, and Jareth flew to her. Summoning a cloth he pressed it to the wound, not daring to pull it out fearing the gush of crimson that was already staining her stomach. The belly in which not ten minutes prior he had imagined large with child.
He loved her. In that second he realised it. In the second that he stared into her panic filled eyes as she slumped into his strong arms, holding her gut that was still penetrated with the wretched knife. Jareth's fear at that point outweighed his anger. His fear outweighed any emotion that had ever crossed his mind. Except for the love that had just struck him, the burn was simmering underneath all the terror and rage.
The odd burn that had been simmering in his stomach for the past few weeks suddenly had a name and an owner. Love for Sarah.
The Healer's had come and taken over at that point. The sage in the center made a motion and the three disappeared, likely to her chambers that small room with no window. Jareth's eye's stared at his hands that were stained scarlet and the blood beginning to dry. Looking up he saw that no one had moved in the seconds that had passed, no one had dared to breath till Sarah had vanished.
"You." He pointed to the pauper who had been struck by fear the second the King's eyes connected. "Death. After you spend a week in the oubliette." Jareth left seconds after, his anger finally consuming him.
It had been hours after the attack and she still hadn't awoken. He had been alternating between sitting at her side and pacing at foot of her bed, his bed. His initial thought was that they had taken her to the quarter's he had set aside, but realised soon after that she was not there, but in his room.
There was a time in his life he would have been outraged that someone had taken over his private space so casually, but he couldn't find any anger at the sage who's hand had flown to sew her back together the crimson blood staining his bed. He wasn't angry, he was scared.
He pulled her eyes away from the floor glancing at the prone figure on the bed - his bed. He had hoped the first time she was introduced to it that it would have been under more.. Amicable circumstances.
"If only it had hit me." He murmured for the twelfth time, "The only damage would be pride. If only it had hit me."
"You'll do no good for her muttering," the voice came from behind him, Amara.
"Did I not hear you enter."
"I appeared just as you muttered those last few words. I received notice that the Goblin King's favourite had sacrificed herself for the king." his sister gasped with the haggered man she saw looking back at her.
He looked old. Sidhe do not age, they merely retire once they feel their job is fulfilled, she knew of some that went to above to age and eventually die like their grandmother who had been mortal at one time in her life, but she knew of none that ever looked.. Old. He had fine lines pinching the once supple skin around his eyes, his once full lips were thin and drawn, even his hair was lifeless, the silvery mane that normally was angelic in its halo-like appearance was flat and dead looking.
"She did not sacrifice herself, he missed." he whispered softy.
"The witness who delivered the note was quite certain that she had moved into it, assuming sacrifice." He replayed the scene in his head, looking to her face, wishing the eyes to open. Why Sarah, why?
"Why."
"Well.. Wouldn't you?" Amara placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, the scene still played out in his head. She Had moved, inches. He hadn't been looking at her, merely the knife flying through the air. Had it hit him, his unconscious magic would have shielded him, he had been expecting that. Sarah had no magic. Sarah had no shield. And he had no power over her.
Sarah had thrown herself in front of a flying dagger to save him.
"I wish I knew love like you do Jareth. I recognize it in others, I see it all around me, but like our parents I do not love. Pallas is a good man, but I do not love him and he knows this. I enjoy his spirit and his kindness, his wit and charm often remind me of you, but I have chosen a mate that suits me and my purpose. By marrying him I will relinquish the High crown to you." She stated, her voice attempted concern but her words were laced with assurances of her own desires.
"I see." He answered, refusing to acknowledge that she had just selfishly stated that no matter what, he would be king, enforcing her demand on him. The quiet echoed around them. No more words were spoken until she had left hours later.
Silence enveloped the kingdom for days, Jareth never leaving the room. Three days had passed and she still hadn't woken. Holding her hand he kissed her fingers and turned around.
"You, Sage, will she live? Will she make it."
"All of Underground will wish it, if you ask them. My liege."
"It is a wish I would grant if it were in my powers to do so." He said to the kind man who had taken so dutifully to his role.
"I thought you were the KING of wishes." The impudent answer came from the bed. Her voice rough and weak and interrupted by a cough.
"SARAH, you stupid girl!" his hand caressing her face, his voice heartbreaking "Why did you throw yourself in front of that foul thing! I can protect myself, you idiotic child." Instantly he felt stronger than before, more alive than before, and angrier then before. She leaned into his touch and coughed, spluttered and groaned in pain, all the while her own hand rising to his face.
Her appearance was fragile like looking at glass and her words were faint for he could barely hear her, but those eyes, they held the strength that he could only identify as Sarah's courage.
"I have two very good reasons. One I am replaceable, and you are not." He attempted to interrupt but a weak finger pressed to his lips, "Second you are the most important person to me now, and I have been without you, I didn't want to lose you again." Her eyes were damp and he realised that they were both crying. He had never cried before, it was an odd sensation the warm wet liquid leaking from somewhere in the corner of his eye. Her breathing grew haggard and wheezy, and her hand fell limp against his chest, but her eyes remained open. Smiling, her fingers curled into his shirt and pulled at the material. Leaning down he pressed his lips to her weak ones.
He realised this was kissing. All those women before had erased themselves from his memory. No women in all of time could do the thing to him that she did. No one ever would make him feel like she did. His lips moved against hers, willing strength and hope that he had held onto by the thinnest of threads he withdrew ever so slightly. Pulling back further as she groaned he feared she was in pain but the pout on her face his encouragement from his ego assured him it was his lips that had warranted the groan.
"I wasn't done kissing you yet." She choked and coughed and smirked, the corner of her lips pulling up in a crooked smile. "Come back here you." She tried to pull him back but her arms were too weak. He gathered her hands and kissed each and every knuckle, laughing.
"Rest now, we can re-approach this when you are stronger."
"No." she whine, her voice laced with fatigue, her body already betraying her. "More. Now…" He laughed again and allowed her to pull him down so that he was laying beside her.
"Sleep." Contented with the position, and assured that he wasn't going anywhere, she rested her head against his chest and cuddled up to his side, sleep taking her quickly.
It had been many days and she was still recovering. He was reading a tome of philosophy and she was leaning against his shoulder drifting in and out of sleep, the wound was pink and puckered but healing. She was still deathly pale and too weak to walk farther then the lavatory. His guilt hung so heavy in the air that it was like attempting to breath from the belly of a volcano.
He was drowning in his guilt. The knife should have been for him. Damning the man that was still in the dungeons she startled awake and smiled up at him. Lifting a hand she traced the light glasses he wore while reading. Something he noticed he did a lot. He had barely left her side in the week, only to go to the wishers and returning, he monitored there progress from the same window had watched her from, the large portrait window in his room. The same room that she had been barricaded to, to recover.
Although he wouldn't admit it, he was growing accustomed to waking up on his side of the bed to her warmth and soft snuffling sounds that she made during sleep. He had never had a companion that had spent more than a night (and barely a full night at that) in his bed, waking up to her every morning was spoiling him for the day he knew she would eventually leave.
"Talk to me." She whispered. Her voice feeble, but stronger that it had been in previous days. Reaching for his glasses she set them on the table beside the bed and bookmarked the tome with the white silk bookmark. He sighed the most exasperated sigh he could accomplish, and scowling at her. The difference from before is that no longer did she cower from his various looks of anger, but grinned and smirked at him.
He was horrified to confess that he didn't scare her anymore.
"There once was a king in a magical land." He began, like most stories his had a tragic beginning. He gathered her in his arms as she spooned his side. "This king was once a prince, a spoiled boy. Spoiled for years yet never held, this boy knew naught of affection. He desired above all to be held by his mother, to have his father smile at his accomplishments, but they treated him like he was locked within a crystal, cold and distant. To be seen and admired but never touched. This prince grew, and he grew and he grew and he grew till he was considered of an age of intellect. Although still perceived as a child among his parents and elders, nothing more than a drooling babe, in the village below the castle he was consider a intelligent and strong Prince, one the people admired, but still he knew naught of Love." Her breathing was even and her body relaxed softly against him, encouraging he kept talking. Tangling his fingers in her hair he continued.
"This young prince wanted nothing more than a family. The children of the palace loved him and always found joy in his time spent with them. Children fascinated him in that they were warm and comforting and yet held him to no standard but his own. They loved because they could love, where no others could. This enchanted him to those small people." He paused thinking of all the children he had seen in his life, and yet none to call his own, the pain that was often just a dull ache could rear its mighty head and growl on occasion, like the occasion when a young women held a smiling babe on her hip, cooing at the child.
"He was desired by women because he was strong, handsome and powerful. It was well acknowledge, though not being the eldest, he would take the crown. His elder sister was too much like their parent's before him, his younger siblings much like them as well. He was the only one that had inherited Love. Passion. Goodness making him destined to be King. Of his four brothers and three sisters, he was the only one able to love the people like the great kings from long ago."
"When the Prince grew from the tender age to the hearten age of thirty earth years, his parents, the High King and Queen of all the lands bestowed upon him his own kingdom. But instead of ruling the peaceful people that he had grown to depend on, take for granted, he was given the land of the goblins, the land of slaves and ill treatment. He complained most zealously that it wasn't fair so they bestowed another gift. He was also given the Labyrinth. Could he learn to wield it he would be one of the most powerful of all the Fae in the land, for the maze was the most central, the crossroads that lead to all the corners and deep reaches of the wide land. And his new kingdom at the very heart of it all.
"Women still desired him, more so now then ever before. He had become drunk on his own power, the women flocked to him and yet none ever satisfied his hunger, he had not forgotten love for he still desired a companion who would challenge his mind, one that had wit and knowledge that rivalled his own. All the while this prince continued to age, and after a decade of relinquishing himself to the overgrown, wild beast that centered his kingdom it surrendered to him, appreciating the respect its king had given it.
"It never wanted to be controlled, it too wanted to be loved, and appreciated. To be allowed to remain wild." He had her rapt attention as the story ventured into something he had rarely - if ever - shared with anyone. "After centuries of warm nights with equally warm sheets and cold mornings of equally cold sheets he became arrogant and proud of his power. But then there came a girl.
"This girl was young and stubborn. Of all that wished away children, rarely did anyone challenge his Labyrinth. Which disappointed both him and the wild thing. But this girl was different, for she cared naught of her dreams but of her responsibilities that she had promised her stepmother, believing her to be wicked and life particularly cruel. The women cared of the girl and the boy child but didn't understand how to show it. And so that which the girl complained about so vehemently had no base and ultimately the decision to retrieve the child was more than just fear but bravery and courage on the part of the girl." his hand rested on her back, tracing the small exit wound on her back, hoping to give relief in whatever way possible.
"The king loved this girl before she stepped foot into the wild Labyrinth, for her stubbornness and her wit and her charm were ensnaring upon his senses and he had been delighted that she had taken the challenge.
"She was brave, yet still blinded by sheer youth, he had been angered by those who sought to help her, turn after turn she made it farther than anyone - mortal or immortal - had ever made it before. He did foul things to keep her from the babe, distracted her with all that he could, with every glittering trick he had and yet her courage and determination held out.
"In the end all he could do was bow in awe to this mere child who had broken through his mask to that tender Prince. The king offered himself but the child could not be what he needed. He did not understand this and was greatly angered by this, the most insulting rejection, but because she had spoken the words he no longer had any power over her and therefore he had allowed the child and the girl to leave.
"But the King of Wishes was more frustrated then ever when his one wish would not be answered, so fearing of fate, he grew angered at the child who defeated him, smothering the emotions like a pent up dam that only needed a poke to release the current of underlying … affection. Years of tedious rule followed until a women was dropped into his throne room so dramatically only the fates could have a hand in it. Although the woman and child were but the same person he refused to see the growth and wisdom she had acquired, and only chose to see the few glimmers of her tender youth. But as she became accustomed to the Labyrinth and it her, the King had no other option than to try and make amends. Especially after he had been thrown off kilter when she had apologised for being the teenager he had expected, making him a hypocrite for his statement of exhaustion due to expectations. None had ever cracked the cold shell that warm loving Prince had locked himself in. Until her." He looked into her eyes, soft with fatigue and pain and yet they glimmered of hope, wishes, and something warm and adoring. Could it be Love?
"Is there a happy ever after?" She asked softly, sleep already tugging at her consciousness.
"I hope so. Dear fates, god and whatever else can hear I certainly hope so." he mumbled to the already asleep woman in his arms.
She felt.. Full. Her heart was teaming with the heartbreaking story, he had told her everything she needed to love this man that she had not trusted but a week before. She looked down at his sleeping frame, he slept so infrequently she was proud of herself for waking before him.
Caressing the angular features of his face she noticed he looked softer and happier in his sleep, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead she asked his sleeping body, "What did this King of Wishes wish for?" her voice strong and the pain in her stomach subsiding almost to the point where is was nothing but a cramp.
"He wished for a companion that wouldn't bore him but would be willing to give him a child," Sarah jumped having thought him asleep, her heart breaking at the sight his tired expression, the worn king no longer wanted to have to wear the mask, he wanted someone to see HIM. And she did.
Reaching up, she cupped his face, tracing his almond shaped eyes - odd looking without façade of regal brilliance and strength, she ran a finger across his pointed brow down his sharp cheekbones under his liquid warm eyes of most men in the morning down his straight nose to his full lips, his face relaxed under her ministrations and he looked years older than she remembered and younger at the same time, the image of a king disappeared and she was left with nothing but a man, an immortal one, a majestic one, who only ever wanted to be loved, to feel love.
She could do that.
Pulling herself up, she bit down on the pain that flared when she moved wrong and tenderly pressed her lips to the corner of his mouth. "Walk on, with hope in your heart, And you'll never walk alone. You'll never walk alone" And then she kissed him.
"Walk on, with hope in your heart. And you'll never walk alone. You'll never walk alone." The strain on his heart when she had pressed her lips to the side of his mouth had been enough but then she had done something that broke him.
She kissed him. Like he'd never been kissed before.
Their first two tentative kiss had paled in comparison to this and after his initial shock that lasted only a millisecond, he dug one hand into her thick raven hair and the other rested at her hip, sitting up to meet her he was mindful of the wound to her stomach but it seemed that she hadn't notice that there was even a wound there let alone that it hurt. What with the way she was contorting like that.
She strattled his narrow hips and had one hand in his silvery mane and the other arm tenderly wrapped around his neck. He felt the warmth both from her lips and his body, wishing the control he had built up hadn't just decided to take a vacation. The position they were in -him resting his back against the dark wood and her gyrating on his hips did nothing for the strain he felt against his pants and the warmth that came from her pressing up against him. It also didn't help that normally he was out of the bed before her and never seeing him in his particular state.
If he didn't stop this soon, he would become just as wild and crazed as the maze he had controlled. Control damnit, control. Breaking from the kiss both their breathing was heavy, her raspy wheeze struck guilt back to his stomach, squashing some of the desire, but not all of it. "Sarah - you need-your rest." He felt wretched for the lost look on her face, he pulled her to his shoulder and cradled her, wrapping his arms around her small frame.
She fell asleep shortly after and he laid her down, scurrying away before she awoke again. He popped to his Escher room and stumbled around on to the roof, finally allowing the beast within him out. The pain from his restraint felt like it would cause permanent damage. Leaning against the wall he let out a roar of frustration and moan in though that she was still in his bed. He stared out at the burnt orange sky, it looked like a fire had erupted and had drained down from the heavens. Groaning at the tension that hadn't yet escaped him he allowed his mind to wander to the woman, his thoughts of her long legs and skilful tongue.
She was no virgin.
There had been few men that had briefly warmed her sheets, enough for her to be able to say she no longer held that title, so when she had felt the stiffness beneath her, something in her shattered. Suspecting his Love had been wonderful, and reliving hers had been heartening, but feeling the affect she had on him had been.. Encouraging.
For the longest time she had wondered if the bulge had been all show. Now she knew for sure that is wasn't… Whoa boy, where did that thought come from. It came from what was supposed to have just been a chaste and a warm hand assuring him he wasn't alone.
But it had turned into Girl Gone Wild: The Underground Version.
She blushed at the pebbly nipples standing out for all to see, it was cold but she knew that's not why they were perky so early in the morning. The sun was just beginning to rise when she sighed and when to had an excessively cold bath, grabbing a robe from Jareth's armoire and shutting herself in her palatial bathroom.
When she finally emerged her rosy cheeks when cherry red when she saw him sitting at his normal spot by the window at the small little table with a plate of untouched food and what was probably a full goblet in front of him. A second setting was placed across from him where she normally sat.
"I want to go to the garden's today." She had stated, hoping to break whatever electrified the room, the energy charge made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end, fighting about her going farther than the throne room was always a challenge.
"Sit. Eat." He simply said. No battle in him this morning.
The tension grew as they ate and he looked over reports that had his brow merging, she tried to be silent through his first couple sighs and but the irritant groan and scowl set her off.
"What in all hell fire is your problem." she shouted.
He pinned her with a steely glare. "I'll remind you that you'd do best NOT to raise your voice at me."
"I will do what I damn well please your Excellency." She reached across and touched his hand, the contact shocking them both. "Tell me." He looked into her eyes and sighed.
"I've been needed this past week." Guilt washed over her face and dripped into her stomach. She had been distracting him. He allowed a small smile and rested a skeleton long finer under her chin, "Don't look like that, I am not saying I regret this time away. I think I needed it more than I knew."
"Your welcome for being stabbed at the most opportune moment for you." He looked at her and felt anger rising at her comedy, but the twinkle in her eye had them both laughing.
"I never thanked you."
"Oh I'm sure we would have gotten to that. Now, I took politics at one point in my life. How can I help."
Ok that's all for now folks. Review if you like, it will hurry my writing the next chunk. I'm thinking there may be two more blocks. I realise that this seems like a shorter story (cause there is only two chapters) but i'm only 1/3 of the way there and I'm already clocking almost 12k words. I'm thinking it will in the end be closer to 40k
So I realise I've made a couple references to various songs and movies.. Who can catch 'em all (sorry no pokemon in this fic!)
Thank'ya kindly!
S.W.L
