Dear Readers!
Again, thank you for the feedback. It never fails to make me smile ;-D. I hope this part doesn't disappoint.
Hugs, S xxx
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Food for Thought 4
It had taken her less than an hour to make breakfast for her brother and Jareth, and she stood proudly staring down at the tray full of food. Pancakes and honey, scrambled egg, bacon, and toast all came accompanied with juice and coffee. The king sat and watched in heightened fascination as she went about the kitchen as though it were her own little paradise.
His fascination soon switched to amazement as everything was ready at the time she wanted, not to mention the expertise displayed in tossing the pancakes. The toast was done at the exact moment she'd finished scrambling the eggs, the pancakes were coated with honey mere seconds after the bacon was added to the plate, and the toast buttered straight after the coffee was made. Everything she did was done with expert precision and the smells that filled the kitchen were nothing less than divine.
Sarah half hopped and half skipped over to where he sat, the tray balanced on a hand and shoulder, and she gave a simple curtsey before placing it in front of him. "Bon appetite," she said, then realised this would be the first time Jareth had ever eaten something she made, and the thought she was providing for him this way gave her an odd sense of satisfaction.
Seeing she was waiting for him to start his meal, "Please sit, dearest. Are we to await the lad's arrival?" He asked, pouring her coffee.
"Nah. He can take anything from five seconds to five decades. We'd starve if we waited for him." She paused with a scowl. "He's such a brat."
Jareth chuckled and noticed the impatience on her face as she glanced at his untouched breakfast. How ungentlemanly of him to keep the lady waiting. Without hesitating, he scooped a healthy forkful of eggs and a little bacon, ready to place it into his famished stomach.
Unfortunately, interruption came by way of sneakers hitting the floor, soundly announcing the arrival of Toby, who entered the kitchen as though the hounds of hell were after him. Neither Jareth or Sarah managed to say anything as one foot went out from under him, leaving him with nothing to do bar hit the ground, his baseball cap falling off in the process.
"Aw man," he grumbled. "My lace is loose."
The king opened his mouth, ready to chastise the boy for not taking more care when a set of eyes rolled. "Don't waste your breath," Sarah sighed in resignation. "He'll run all the more if you tell him not too."
"Would not," Toby defended as he jumped onto a chair opposite Jareth. "I always do what I'm told." Without hesitating, he snagged a plate and tore into the pancakes like he'd not eaten in a month.
"My brother, ladies and gents. The table manners of a pig."
"Hey Sarah." The instant his sister looked, he opened his mouth to show her his chewing talents.
"Lovely," she grimaced in disgust.
"If we was at home, she'd cry to dad." Toby talked to Jareth with his mouth still full of food.
"Liar!" Sarah turned to the king. "He's lying. I don't cry to dad."
"Do too." He put on an exaggerated voice belonging to a six year old girl. "Dad, Toby's making faces at me. Dad, Toby's flicking peas at me. Dad..."
"At least I don't..."
Jareth had heard enough. The clock hadn't yet struck nine and already they were at it. He placed his cutlery holding hands on the table with a bang loud enough to cease the childish bickering, pleased when each sibling lowered their heads in shame. "Toby, the word is were, not was, and swallow before you speak. Sarah, you have twenty years on on the age of five. Try to recall it."
"Sorry Jareth," she muttered meekly and peered at him through dark lashes.
"Yeah. Sorry."
He nodded in approval then resumed the task of eating the breakfast Sarah had graciously cooked for him. The fork was barely an inch from his mouth when it started again.
"Tattletale," Toby mumbled, hoping no-one heard him.
"Pig!" Sarah shot back.
"Whiner."
"Quiet, both of you, or I will be forced to take actions not to your liking." Jareth demanded, his voice the one he used when talking to a bunch of undisciplined goblins. "This is the last day of peace I'll have before the seasonal change. May I please break my fast?"
Neither Williams dared say or do anything more and finally, his fork was able to reach its target. He glanced at them once more before eating. Ahh, he thought, food. When silence continued to reign, he allowed himself to relax in order to fully enjoy his meal. The eggs were beautiful, not too whipped and spiced with a little pepper, and the bacon was just how he liked it. Crispy, lightly salted, and perfect for a morning.
"Excellent, Sarah," Jareth complimented with a smile. "I knew my choice in you was correct." It was good thing he spoke when he did as it took her attention away from her brother, who was now tongue pulling behind her back. He sighed. There was nothing else for it.
He flicked his hand and watched as the lad tried unsuccessfully to pull his tongue back into his mouth. Toby's blue eyes filled with panic when he realised it wasn't going to happen and looked to the king for help. He'd be in so much trouble if his sister saw.
"Something the matter?" Jareth asked and calmly resumed eating.
Sarah frowned and glanced at her brother only to see the face he'd been pulling. "You little scrat!" She seethed and then caught onto the fact Toby couldn't change his expression. She slowly smiled with vengeance filling her eyes. "Mmm, these pancakes look delicious. Don't you agree, Jareth?"
Toby glared as he watched both sister and king each take a generous amount of pancakes and honey. He groaned.
"Quite," was the reply. "This juice has been freshly squeezed?"
"Yep. It's the stuff dreams are made of." Proving her words, she took a good long drink of her own and let out a hum of pleaure as the refreshing and tangy taste burst in her mouth. "Hey, I forgot to mention I'll be making some cotton candy for the children. Ever tried it?"
"No, but I'm certainly willing. Do you favour cotton candy, Toby?" Jareth smiled innocently at the boy.
He frantically nodded and yet again attempted to retract his tongue, groaning out apologies as fast as he could. He was hungry and wanted the stupid pancakes his stupid sister made.
Sarah openly laughed at her brother. "I think he's learned his lesson about not interfering with a king and his breakfast."
Once he was finally able to move his mouth, Toby pouted a fantastically sized pout that would have tripped him up if he'd been walking. "That wasn't fair."
Sarah froze and Jareth's mouth let out the heartiest laugh she had ever heard from him. His entire body shook from the force, the deep sound echoed through the kitchen, and ceased her embarrassing stroll down memory lane. She, too, started to laugh, but unlike him, covered her face with both her hands to hide the brilliant shade of red staining her cheeks.
"What?" Toby asked in confusion. "What's so funny? What did I do?"
"Ah Sarah," the king chuckled and reached for her hand to squeeze. "My dear, dear Sarah."
"I don't geddit." Her brother huffed. He hadn't played the National Anthem through his nose, hadn't made his ears wiggle or anything remotely funny, so why were they laughing at him? "Hey!"
Things went from bad to worse for the youngster as he was then made to watch Jareth kiss her hand at least five times. Okay, the sixth time made him crack. "Dude," Toby snapped as much as his twelve years would allow. "That's my sister."
The king heard the warning loud and clear, and let go of Sarah's lovely hand to grace the lad with a bow of his head. "My apologies."
Obviously little brothers were just as protective as big ones.
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Jareth led Sarah on a tour of the busy city, pointing what was being done and where. Toby lagged behind them as he was far more interested in seeing how high he could throw his ball before catching it.
"This area here," the king took her to a large square that housed a small fountain in the center. "This is where the market will be held each day of the Festival."
Market meant things to buy and she felt a little gleeful bubble in her chest. Spending money was her favourite hobby, particularly if it involved something to wear.
"Not the clothing you are used too, I assure you," he said with a smirk as he easily read the look on her face. "The clothing here will be... Well, you will see for yourself soon enough. Jewels, trinkets, ornaments. All shall be sold."
"I love markets," she confessed. "They're one of the few places to buy odd little treasures. Dad took me when I was six or seven and I bought all six jewel eyed princess ponies for my collection. Didn't even cost me five dollars."
Jareth's brows touched his hairline. Princess ponies? "You crown your equines?"
"Pardon?" She wasn't sure she heard him right.
"Princess ponies?"
Sarah smiled sheepishly. "I keep forgetting you don't know much of above. My Little Pony was this cartoon years ago and they brought out the toys. There were six ponies with different coloured plastic jewel eyes to collect. Dad still has them stashed away someplace."
"Yes, I recall you were quite the hoarder. Always adding to your toys and your costumes. It's a wonder you had room for it all. Oh, the time I had recreating your bedroom." He chuckled merrily at the memories of rummaging through her things with a pair of slippers the most prominent. They were in a box hidden under her bed and he remembered running ungloved fingers over them, visualising her as a young girl parading around in them.
He also remembered conjuring an image of another young girl. A young girl with the dark hair of her mother and the eyes of her father. Jareth shook off the memory, resuming the conversation as though he hadn't been engaged in a silly day dream.
"You must have had terribly small feet as a girl."
Her face turned sour. "The junk pile. You turned my stuff into the junk pile." She paused their walk and made him look at her. "It so wasn't junk and what do you mean small feet? I don't have small feet." Did she?
Sarah glanced down to check her feet, a part of her wondering if he'd suddenly given her the feet of a kid, but no. Her feet were blessedly the size they had been since she was sixteen.
"No, you certainly haven't small feet," was the airy remark.
"Are you saying I've got big feet?"
Jareth merely smiled and continued his walk. "If the shoe fits."
Behind her, Toby snorted out boyish laughter. "Sarah's got clown feet, Sarah's got clown feet." He would have kept it up, but since he'd already suffered one punishment, he thought it best to quit while he was ahead in case he got clown feet.
Seeing Sarah about to clip her brother round the ear, the king directed them all to one of the battlements currently being restored and captured a builder by his armoured collar. "Tell me the progress."
The goblin was only too quick to inform his king about the progress being made. While this was going on, Toby inched round to see the work for himself and immediately became engrossed watching the builders, his ball all but forgotten. The battlement itself was a fair bit bigger than he was, which meant he had to tilt his head all the way back so he could see the top. There was an actual cannon in the wall. How cool was that?
Tugging on Jareth's shirt for attention, "Can I help? I'll be real good. Honest. And I'll be quiet. Please? Please?"
"If your sister and Grak here agrees. And," he thought to add. "You swallow before opening your mouth."
Toby's pleading blue eyes went from his sister to Grak and back again. "Go on, Sarah. Dad doesn't let me do anything apart from stupid book ends. I'll be extra careful and do what I'm told. Cross my heart."
Sarah really didn't have the heart to tell him no, especially not when she knew how much he loved to work with his hands. Still, these were goblins and were known to get pretty rowdy from time to time. One more look at those baby blues and she was done for.
"Alright, you can help," and her decision was rewarded by a rare hug from her little brother. His scrawny arms grabbed her waist like there was no tomorrow and the amount affection in it brought a fine sheen of tears to her eyes. To think she could have lost out on this.
Jareth caught the look on her face and smiled softly, touching her arm in a way that was much, much more intimate than it appeared. "Be off with you, lad. I'll be watching so no mischief."
Toby was gone before the sentence was finished, leaving his sister to pick up and look after the ball he brought. She fingered the object, passing it back and forth between her hands, not daring to look at the king for fear she'd see pity in those mismatched eyes of his. When she finally got the courage to look at him, it wasn't pity she saw, but respect.
He didn't say a word, didn't have to. Jareth simply smiled a beautiful smile and began a nice stroll past the battlements, his hands locked tight behind his back. Sarah watched him for a few moments as she bounced the ball a few times. "Hey Jareth?"
All goblins within hearing distance stopped short when they heard the king's name yelled by the mortal. Not sire, liege, lord or any other formal greeting.
Jareth glanced over his shoulder. "Yes?"
"Catch!"
The goblins and Sarah watched the ball sail through the air, rotating as it went until it connected solidly with the king's head. Her eyes went wide yet never lost their focus on the ball, following it down to the ground, then darting back up to his face. Her hands came up in a gesture designed to placate.
"I didn't mean it," she said, not surprised her voice came out as a timid, squeaky little noise. If there was one thing she'd learned over the years, it was not to enrage the Goblin King. "I swear I didn't mean it, Jareth."
He fully turned to face her, his eyes blazing with hellfire and brimstone, making her take a few steps back.
Sarah tried again by defending herself. "You were supposed to catch it. You do know what that words means, right? Catch as in use your hands to catch." She made the catching motion with her hands, but it did nothing bar raise his brows in question.
In for a penny and all that jazz, she thought. "Both eyebrows? I'm in trouble."
His eyes narrowed, daring her to continue. She didn't have to keep up the teasing as the goblins did it for her. They bellowed out laughter and jeers as they watched the showdown between king and mortal, getting louder when the king drew a crystal out of nowhere.
"Aw hell."
"Sarah, catch!"
Sarah did the only thing she could given the circumstances and ran.
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She was more than aware of the attention on her. Well, on her and her dripping hair, clothes and the muddy shoe prints ruining the clean floor. She held her head high and stood with all the dignity she could muster given the circumstances.
"Sarah," Jareth spoke through a mild wide grin and gestured towards the servents he'd selected to help with the cooking. "Please, come meet your servents."
The two parts of her that moved were her eyes and brows. "Servents?" She asked, purposely keeping her voice nice and free of any hostility. Smoothing down her drenched top, "Tell me, am I servent too?" If she couldn't get revenge one way, she'd damn well get it another, and being verbally petty was her one choice.
"Certainly not!"
"If you're calling these people servents because they'll be working in the kitchen, then surely I'm also a servent."
Jareth glared at her as his grin faded. "Sarah, be warned."
She simply shrugged, ignoring the cold water trickling down her neck and back. "I'm just saying."
A giggle escaped from one of the younger girls and she tried to muffle it with her hand, but it was no good. Her king had already heard it. Quick to apologise lest she lose her job, "My apologies, sire."
Jareth treated the maid to a set of narrowing eyes. "Hmmm." One glance at Sarah told him she found the whole moment highly amusing for there she was, standing there soaking wet and sporting a smirk. So she was toying with him, was she? How delightful. He did so like to play.
"Very well," he clapped his hands and smiled beautifully, much to her confusion. Why wasn't he retaliating? "Sarah, please meet your staff." He directed the drenched creature to the start of the line. "introduce yourselves."
The first she met was a woman a few years older than herself. She had laugh lines around her mouth and a set of kind, good humoured eyes that instantly put Sarah at ease. "Good afternoon."
The woman gave a swift curtsey. "Good afternoon, ma'am. My name be Gretchen. I'll be in charge of the Gatherers."
Slowly, she went down the line, shaking hands and returning each and every curtsey she got. It was a struggle to remember all the names after so short a meeting, but there'd be enough time to learn them properly later. The struggle increased when she came to a set of triplets, all blonde haired and blue eyed. Holly, Molly, and Polly, and for the life of her, she couldn't make out any distinguishing differences between them.
Well, apart from Molly, who had a look of resignation on her impish face. Sarah resisted the urge to commiserate. One sibling was bad enough, but two and of the same age? Poor Molly.
Finally, Sarah reached the last lady and approached her with the same warm, welcoming smile all the others received. "My name be Thea. I do as asked, ma'am."
Sarah waved her hand at the formality, but returned the curtsey. Addressing each lady, "My name is Sarah and not ma'am, miss, mistress or anything like that. I can't work with a bunch of strangers. To work in and as a team, you've gotta trust the people you're with, and have you ever trusted a stranger?"
God, what must they think of her? Dishing out orders while looking like a drowned rat. Something told she didn't want to know. "I don't know if Jareth, sorry, the king has informed you about the representatives arriving three days prior to the beginning of the Festival. Which means I'm gonna need every bit of help you can give."
Since her back was to him, she didn't see the pride burning in Jareth's gaze as he watched her put the ladies at ease with a friendly and welcoming tone.
Sarah continued. "I think it'd be beneficial to have a staff meeting to go over the details in depth such as who has cooking or catering experience, who is going to do what, which kitchen is going to be used for what etc etc."
Gretchen spoke up. "Me daughter has four years in working at a bakery in the city."
Sarah grinned. "Great, can she stop by tomorrow morning? The more the merrier." She paused when she realised she was hiring more staff at Jareth's expense and glanced over her shoulder, seeing how amused he was. "That's if you don't mind?"
"Not at all, my dear."
"Looks like I have an extra pastry chef. Makes things so much easier since I kinda suck at pastry." Off his look, "My hands tend to get really warm occasionally."
As a man who'd never cooked a thing in his life, he had absolutely no idea what she meant, but nodded anyway.
Green eyes rolled heavenward. It was obviously a good thing pizza delivery didn't exist in the Underground. Clapping her hands once to capture the attention that had drifted off momentarily. "Until tomorrow, ladies. Shall we say ten pm?"
They agreed and only left the kitchen when the king dismissed them with a simple word, leaving them alone. "I think that went well."
Relief coursed through Sarah, a shaky breath escaping as she slumped into the closest chair, her weight squeezing excess water out of her clothes and creating a little puddle on the floor. Her chin came to rest in her palm. "Definitely went better than I thought it would."
"You were not nervous, surely?" Surprising considering how confident she sounded, how she held herself with dignity and pride all the while dripping water everywhere.
Her eyes widened at the genuine shock in the question, and laughed lightly. "Are you kidding me? Do you have any idea how nerve wracking it is to walk into someone else's kitchen and take over? If you're lucky, you'll be hit with a rolling pin and not a frying pan."
Jareth smiled. "You certainly kept your countenance, my dear. Admirably. I take it kitchens are a castle of sorts and you cooks are the rulers?"
"Royalty? Hell no," she exclaimed. "Godlike is a closer description. What we say goes. Heaven forbid someone attempts a hostile take-over. You really don't have a clue to the lengths some chefs will go to stake their claim as head honcho."
"Many Fae aspire to circles higher than their own. They can be quite... Mischievious to say the least." He joined her at the table, sitting back with a wistful expression on his face, and drying her up with a click of his fingers. "Magic, both white and black, claiming to be with child." His gaze caught the look of intrigue she tried to hide and inwardly smirked.
He was no stranger to her curiosity. When it came to tales and stories of the Underground, she hung onto his every word, particularly if he was entertaining her with a story involving debauchery and scandal. Better than a novel, she told him once.
"Plots of murder and seduction," Jareth continued, purposely making his voice a whisper of its normal tone. "Wicked, Sarah, but oh so good. Unless it is you on the receiving end of such things."
Green eyes widened. "You've been on the receiving end?" He'd never mentioned this before. "Someone tried to kill you?" God, it was unthinkable.
He didn't approve of lying, but was it really lying if he embellished a few things? No, he decided, it wasn't lying when it got such delicious reactions out of her. "It was well before we first met. A young Fae by the name of Jorgan..."
Jareth began to spin the story with ease, using fact along with fiction to give it some true depth, noting how she responded to every word. Widening eyes, gasped breaths, muffled giggles, and sweet excitement made the effort so worth while.
Even at the expense of his cousin who was, in fact, completely innocent of the crimes. Oh well, it was all in the name of courtship and he was quite sure his cousin wouldn't mind in the slightest.
Sarah was salivating by the time he was done and found herself with sore, heavy eyelids that were starting to complain at not being allowed to close. A large yawn brought tears to her eyes and she blinked rapidly, determined to stay awake until she'd gotten all the juice out of him that she could. Unfortunately, her determination lasted until his voice lowered to a beautiful, rich tone that instantly lulled her to sleep.
He couldn't stop the laughter at the sight of her hands cushioning her cheek as she rested at the table. "Am I so dull, Sarah my sweet?" He brushed her hair away from her face, watching the raven strands fall back into place. Perhaps it was wrong of him to use a little magic on her, but it simply couldn't be helped.
Jareth's lips remained in a half smile as took her to bed with a wave of his hand, carefully laying her on the bed, and artistically arranging her hair around her. Her skin was naturally pale and was a striking contrast to the black tresses, while her cheeks seemed to be a soft shade of pink. Peaches and cream, he thought as he gazed down, her skin was like peaches and cream.
A glove was removed and he allowed himself the treat of touching her, following those shaped cheeks down to her jaw and mouth, watching as her nose wrinkled at the ticklish sensation.
Backing away, the king sent a perfect crystal to her. "Dream of me, Sarah," he whispered. "Dream of me the whole night through."