Jareth blinked the sleep out of his eyes slowly, his mind foggy with dreams, his body pleasantly warm and heavy. Finally, his eyes opened all the way, to a white ceiling that was most certainly not the ceiling of his bedroom… or any other room in his castle, for that matter.
His reflexes kicked in much faster than his mind. He found himself in a wobbly defensive crouch near the bed. He reached for any of his weapons, but found himself without a stitch of clothing. He tried to get his mind to focus, looking for any clues as to where he was… it was a bedroom Aboveground… the bed had a canopy over it, there were wide glass balcony doors… it looked vaguely familiar…
He tensed as he heard footsteps pound up a staircase and towards him. Then, the one woman, the one gorgeous, compassionate, beautiful woman who had ever beaten him at his own game rounded the corner.
He must be still asleep. He was dreaming. Jareth hadn't seen Sarah since the day she had won her brother back from him. He knew that she maintained close ties with several of his subjects, but she had never seen fit to call on him, before. Not that she was led to believe that overtures would be welcome. In any case, Sarah was here, and staring at him rather hungrily; therefore, he was dreaming.
Perhaps it would be wise to double check.
"Sarah?"
She started walking towards him, and touched his arm. Now, Jareth had pretty extensive experience with realistic dreams and hallucinations, but this was a damned close call… he was still leaning towards dream. He stumbled back onto the bed, and let her tuck him in. Yes, he was dreaming.
He was surprised when she spoke… her voice had deepened ever so slightly… he looked at her even more closely, seeing the faintest web of lines at the corners of her eyes, around her mouth… this was the first time he had dreamt of a Sarah who had aged. He frowned at her, bemused.
Then his brain caught up with her words.
That bloody buggering wanker!
His precious nephew had just… had tried… his kingdom! His two idiot henchmen had tied him up and tossed him in a lake! He was going to… bog… iron maiden… kill!
Jareth was shocked out of his thoughts when Sarah pushed him back down into the pillows, and he stared up her, startled at the heat of her touch. Sarah was real! She was here! And apparently, she was concerned for him.
"Your Majesty," Your Majesty? "Before you get up to take care of whatever has happened, I want to make sure that you're healthy." Not dreaming! Huzzah! "Can you tell me why you've been unconscious so long? Is there anything that I can get for you?" Oh, Sarah…
Sarah was here… corporally and literally and mentally… and she was taking care of him because he was a drowning victim, and that little scab of a gardener had saved him. Best push all thoughts of politics into the back of his mind, and focus on the important things. Sarah! Sarah was using his title? Now that was not consistent with the girl that he remembered.
"Your Majesty?" he made his tone lightly questioning… lightly mocking. "You never called me that, before."
He watched her flush charmingly, and she replied with aplomb, "Age has taught me respect, I suppose." She gave her shoulders a little shrug. "It was very rude of me to treat you so… brashly, the last time that we met. I'm sorry."
Beautiful little Sarah had grown into a gracious woman… "Apology accepted, Sarah. Please, call me Jareth." He allowed himself a wide grin. This was wonderful!
Fifteen minutes later saw him confronting an Aboveground bathroom. Sarah's face had been pale when she had handed him a stack of clothing, but by the time she had shown him how to work the shower, and handed him a towel, her cheeks were charmingly flushed. Jareth stood quietly under the hot spray, scrubbing pond scum off with soap, and sorting his thoughts.
The politics of his situation were simple. His cabbage-headed nephew had tried to depose him. There were various questions of how much support he had, and from who, but the fact that Zebulon had attempted to neutralize him, rather than kill him outright, was quite telling in and of itself.
Jareth knew, without modesty, false or otherwise, that he was unarguably the most powerful being in his kingdom, and he wasn't worried about taking care of Zebulon when he returned home. No matter what kind of support the little bugger had found, Jareth couldn't be successfully defeated on his home turf, not with his own personal powers combined with the might of the Labyrinth. When he returned, he'd have that treacherous little bastard executed for treason, along with his allies. Not a complicated scenario, just messy and painful. For Zebulon.
Jareth found his thoughts dwelling far less on the political maneuvering that this situation entailed, and far more on his hostess. Sarah. He had found himself thinking about her often, over the years. She was one of the very, very few mortals who had defeated his Labyrinth, and was certainly the prettiest, and the feistiest.
From the short amount of time he had spent with her, it seemed that age had eased some of her rougher characteristics… Your Majesty. Sarah! Who would have ever thought? He wondered, did Sarah ever think about him? He had allowed his goblins to keep her company over the years… well, as a Champion of the Labyrinth, they were rather drawn to her, whether he willed it or not. It was worth the aggravation of having a few less goblins around to kick on any given day, since every now and then they would drop a tidbit about how Sarah's life was progressing.
He frowned as he rinsed the soap away. He was starting to sound pathetically starry-eyed, even to himself. It wasn't like he'd done nothing but wait around for her for ten years… he had been running a kingdom, that was quite enough to keep him busy. But he'd never met a woman who was her equal… and he'd looked. But now, thanks to Fate (better Fate than that wretched Haggle), here he was, spending time with her, and she was worried for him! He wouldn't be sending nightmares after her, or borrowing siblings, or anything… they might actually have an opportunity to get to know each other… oh, he hoped!
Jareth jumped and cursed loudly as he turned the water to cold, instead of off. After he had figured the damned faucet out, and was toweling off, he looked at the pile of clothes on the counter with some trepidation. They were about the right height, but he was much more slim than the man who owned these clothes. He wondered who's they were… oh, no wonder Sarah had looked pained. These were her father's clothes… he remembered one of his goblins mentioning her father having cancer. He cinched the belt tight around the denim's waist, and after running a comb through his hair, walked out of the bedroom, and down the stairs to find Sarah.
Sarah thought, with mild embarrassment, that there must be something sick in her for finding Jareth, wearing her father's clothes, absolutely edible. Seriously, she needed therapy. Thoughts of fairytales, kidnapping, incest, death, all combined in one fantastic view. Ewww. She was sick. Therapy. Focus, Sarah. She stared back down at the coffee table bashfully. Eyes up, Sarah! You're not some drooping violet! Grow a spine! She bet that she could get a discount through the college's health care plan. She'd heard that Dr. Jersey had a great way of listening, and giving great advice without prescribing drugs… or men in white coats, hopefully.
She waved her hand to get his attention as he walked down the last few stairs. "You look much better! Please, grab a seat." Sarah gestured to the seat across from hers. "Is there anything I can get you?"
Jareth smiled at her. "That's the second time that you've asked me that, Sarah, thank you. No, I'm fine for the moment." Dear God, what a voice. She hadn't really, fully remembered that rich, smooth voice. FOCUS! He was speaking again. Don't miss a word! "No, I'm quite grateful for what you've done already. It's likely that without your help, I might have gotten very, very sick." His lips turned up in a genuine smile.
She smiled at him. He was being very… nice. No looming. No intimidating. He looked very approachable in a pair of Levi's and a soft cotton shirt. He didn't seem to be mocking her, or irritated. Was this the Goblin King out of uniform?
"I have so many questions for you!" Her smile dimmed a small amount. "I don't want to be rude." Really, I don't. Doesn't mean that I won't be, though, if you evade my questions! Sarah's smile faded the rest of the way, and she frowned. "But what on Earth is going on?"
Could she have asked any question more open-ended?
Jareth raised his eyebrows, and leaned back, crossing his arms and legs.
"Where would you like me to start?"
A/N— Please review and I promise that I'll update faster, cross my heart!
