Sarah and the Goblin King

Chapter 7

Troubling

Jareth stood under the freezing stream of water, his head hanging between his arms, which were braced against the wall of his shower. His breaths were still harsh and ragged from a dream he could scarcely remember. His body trembled, felt like it was on fire. He could remember lips against his, a taste he had never experienced. However, there was only one woman who'd ever been able to do this to him.

He knew he'd dreamed of Sarah, but he couldn't remember the dream, couldn't remember any details except that taste, the feel of her. And for some reason, he had the feeling that this wasn't the first dream of this nature since she'd come to stay with him.

He slammed his hand against the wall, slipping it along until he could rest his forehead on his forearm. "Sarah," he breathed quietly, his eyes closed against the pain.

Sometimes, things seemed to be moving incredibly quickly, leaps and bounds, followed by long stretches of inactivity. Last night had been a wonderful milestone. She'd requested his company, his companionship. Stated she was lonely. He should be thankful for that much from someone as willful and temperamental as his raven haired lady. She wanted his friendship.

That left a bitter taste in his mouth, something that had only started developing after he'd released all of the feelings her request had created. He didn't want friendship. He wanted the things he had the feeling that he'd been dreaming about for some time now.

It seemed that each night, he woke feeling electrified, stirrings of arousal. Up until now, he'd simply believed it was because he would see Sarah later that day. However, he should not know the taste of her lips. It wasn't something he'd ever experienced in the waking world. Yet somehow he knew. Sweet vanilla, warm and inviting.

Dangerous thoughts.

He gave a ragged breath and turned off the water, reaching out and grabbing the towel. He wrapped it around his waist and stepped from the shower, moving to his room, ignoring the puddles of water that he left in his wake. When he entered his room, he immediately noticed that there was another occupant. As there was only one other occupant in the whole of this place, his attention was immediately one hundred percent on her.

Sarah stood by the window, looking out at the slightly overcast skies. After a long moment, she turned her attention towards him. There was something about the expression on her face that caused anxiety to hit him, but he managed to hide the feelings well enough. He assumed a relaxed position and gave her a wild smile. "Why, perchance, have you decided to visit me this morning?"

Somehow, even here she still managed to be cruel. Her eyes didn't even flicker below his face and the only indication she gave that she was aware of his state of dress was a faint blush on her cheeks. "If I asked you questions about how you came to be here, would you answer me honestly, or would you lie?"

He blinked, startled at the line of questioning. "I beg your pardon?"

Moss green eyes bored into his. She pushed off the wall and walked towards him. He took a moment to admire the soft butter yellow dress she'd chosen to wear, with its accents of white lace. He loved it when she dressed like this. It gave him an idea of how she would look if she were his queen. Finally, he returned his gaze to her own and found that defiance that he'd fallen in love with. "Will you answer me with honesty, or with lies? I need to know."

He stepped towards her, watched the faint flush darken slightly. "Sarah, I am not currently properly dressed for a discussion. Kindly take yourself down the hall to my office and wait for me there." He took her hand and placed a soft kiss on the back of it. "I will join you as soon as I'm able."

She stared at him for a long moment, then nodded. "I'll hold you to that." She withdrew her hand, and stepped around him. She walked with measured strides, and he watched her go. Just as she reached the door, she turned, and this time her eyes raked over his figure.

He actually felt vaguely violated and exhilarated at the same time. Moments later, her eyes met his and he wondered if he'd imagined the faint approval in those eyes before she closed the door between them.

Well, she certainly liked something that she saw, he thought with a faintly amused smile. Even after all these years, their natural attraction for each other hadn't faded.

He arched an eyebrow, wondering how the fae council would react if they'd witnessed that little scene. He was relatively certain they weren't expecting a lady like Sarah Williams. That brought to mind the nature of the discussion he was to have with her and wondered how to answer her question as well as how to explain the situation without actually giving away anything that could get him locked up in a lead-lined prison.

He let the towel drop and moved towards his wardrobe, throwing open the doors and considering the clothing, weighing it with his mood. Finally, he pulled down a loose black shirt and breeches, dressing with care and glancing at himself in the mirror. His fine, feathery hair was already nearly dry. A hand through it straightened it well enough to suit him. Finally, he pulled on his leather boots as well as his gloves, then hesitated.

He'd touched her without his gloves on.

He hadn't even realized when he'd done it. His hands were shaking badly as he pulled the gloves onto them and he took a deep, considering breath. It had become as natural as breathing. To touch her felt right, was as simple as a thought. So much danger every time he did. Every verbal intercourse with her, he found himself trying to get closer, so that touching her would be easier. Even at dinner, he was so close finally that he could see the shadow that her lashes left on her cheeks when she closed them as she spoke.

Soon, he would be close enough to brush her hair back from her face.

Sighing, he moved towards the door, pushing it open and heading towards his office.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

Sarah had stood with her back to the door for a moment, as her brain caught up with the visual stimulation and she processed each and every piece of data, willing herself not to be overwhelmed by it.

"I's tried to warn ya," the goblin Scribble mumbled, looking up at her.

She gulped hard. "It's fine...I just...wasn't quite expecting that..." She pushed away, still processing the data. What struck her most – besides his toned physique, of course – were the white lines that cut across the skin of his back. Scars, old wounds which had healed, but still marred his otherwise smooth flesh. She swallowed hard, glancing towards the goblin as she walked. "How did he get the scars?"

The small creature looked uncomfortable for a moment, then glanced up at her in return. "I's not at trial...Kinga taken away, and then when we's next saw Kinga, he coulna see us..." It looked sad. "I's not at trial, but I's help bring him here. I's saw the wounds. Lead whips, Lady." That lower lip trembled and it's eyes watered. "They beat him..."

Sarah swallowed the lump in her throat and blinked back tears of her own. She forced the emotions back and focused on everything else. Despite those mars on him, or perhaps because of them, she found herself quite attracted to him. She'd always acknowledge the attraction she felt, even when they were adversaries, however, she'd never gotten quite that much of an eyeful of the King in all his glory. The scars didn't detract from that. If anything, they proved that he was a strong man, because he'd been beaten like that and had survived.

A blush infused her cheeks, and she gave a guilty smile. She just hoped that this little sneak preview of the man didn't somehow slip into her sleeping hours, leaving him clad in little more than a towel in her dreams. Although, that had certain merit-

Whoa, girl.

She fanned her cheeks, even as Scribble pushed open the door to the King's office. She found a comfortable leather chair and sat upon it, curling in such a way as to hide the fact that she was still wearing her jeans under the lovely dress. It never hurt to be well prepared for any and all situations, after all.

She found a stack of books on the table beside the chair and lifted one, opening it and beginning to turn the pages, flipping through it with interest. It was a book, but it wasn't a story. It almost reminded her of a scientific text and she shifted getting more comfortable. A few pages in, she sat upright and stared. Her fingers quickly turned the pages, faster and faster as she realized that this book wasn't just a text. It was a book on the use and execution of magic. Channeling it through a physical form and manifesting it.

She'd just gotten vested interest in the book, when she heard the door open and shut. Jareth moved within, and as he stopped at the chair behind his desk, a pile of correspondence dumped upon it. She arched a brow, using her hand to mark her page and closed the book in her lap.

After a long moment, Jareth looked towards her. He looked rather tired, almost exhausted. She caught the faintest view of white lines that streaked over his shoulders, mostly hidden by the collar of his shirt. "You wished to discuss something, Sarah?"

She gave the stack of envelopes a brief look before looking mildly at him. "I think it can wait until your daily work is finished," she said quietly.

His expression became odd, and he glanced towards the pile. He scooped them up in one hand, flipping them over, at the back of the envelope. She arched a brow as he began going through them, then heaving them over his shoulder. "Unimportant, I don't like them anyways...oh, they can jump in the bog...twice." The little musings continued until he held the last envelope in his hand. Those fingers gave the faintest tremble, only visible because the envelope quivered.

Sarah glanced at the front of the envelope, and read the words Fae Council. "Is it important?"

"It doesn't matter," he said quietly, setting that envelope down carefully on the desk. "I'm sure it's just a reminder of my timetable."

There's not much time remaining...

Sarah shivered faintly, remembering the desperation in his voice. She met Jareth's gaze and took a deep breath, uncertain how to ask again. "What do you need from me?" She saw the surprise on his face and she stood, moving towards him. She set the book aside on the desk, setting her hands down on the wooden surface as well. "You must need something, is it so hard to tell me what that is?"

There was genuine regret in his eyes. "I cannot," he said, his voice quiet.

She met his gaze, straightened and took a deep breath. "How am I supposed to know what I have to do if no one will tell me," she whispered, searching his eyes. "I want to help..." There was something else in his eyes. Something that made her heart ache. "Please-"

"I cannot," his voice was still quiet, but the look in his eyes...pain. She suddenly realized he wanted to tell her – would tell her if she demanded it. However, if she did, she knew it would hurt him.

She moved around the desk and gently set her hand on his cheek. "Is there nothing you could tell me? No hint that might point me in the right direction?"

He turned his face away, removing the slight contact between them. "There is nothing, Sarah. I wish...that it were otherwise." He gave her a grim smile. "Worry not, I presume that you will not need to worry soon enough..." He picked up the letter and glanced at her. "I prefer to look at this in private-"

She hesitated. "May I stay? I won't bother you..." Having him reject her touch hurt, but she wasn't going to just walk away from him. She wouldn't let him face the demons in that letter alone. If he wouldn't tell her what she could do for him, then she would try to support him.

The grateful expression was masked a moment after she'd seen it. His eyes closed and his face twisted into an expression of pain once more. "Sarah-"

"If my company is all I can offer you, at least let me do that much! I know..." She curled her hands into tight fists, feeling her nails bite into the flesh. She lifted her face, looking at him in defiance. "I know it's my fault that this happened to you!"

He seemed shocked that she knew that much. The letter fell upon the desk and his hand landed on it as he stared at her, his jaw gaping slightly. There were tears on her face and she knew it, but she couldn't stop herself.

"I...just want to help you..." She refused to break the gaze, refused to lift a hand to wipe the tears from her cheeks. "Just...let me help you..."

"Sarah," he said softly, offering her his hand. She moved towards him, lacing her fingers with his own. "Do not cry, I implore you." He gave her a small smile. "I wanted to be angry when it first happened, but the fact is you are not to blame. It is not just you. I am as much to blame for my solitude, so do not set the weight of it upon your shoulders."

She sniffled, and finally used her sleeve to wipe the tears away. A handkerchief was pressed into her hand and she blew her nose in it. It wasn't a particularly lady-like noise, and after doing so, she glanced down at the square of cotton and then glanced at the owner.

His lips were clamped together hard, and he was shaking a bit. When she glanced back at the hanky, there was a sputtering sound and she looked up in time to see his control shatter, and he fell forward onto his desk, laughing. She wanted to feel indignant, but every time he glanced at her and the hanky, he started over again, and it was rather infectious.

She gave a faint giggle as well, and she dropped the square into the waste basket. "I think that one is ruined..." she said, giving him a sheepish smile.

He lifted his gaze, still grinning far too widely. After a moment, his gaze fell to the letter on his desk and the smile began to fall. "I appreciate the offer, Sarah, however..." he hesitated.

"It's private?"

He sighed, then shook his head, disheveling his star-kissed hair. She suddenly had an almost irresistible urge to reach out and smooth the wild strands back for him. "It is difficult to explain."

She inclined her head. "I don't need to know the contents-"

"Ah, but were I to extract them, you would hear regardless." He rubbed the back of his neck and gestured towards the chair she'd sat in before. He stood, moving to the one beside it. "Let me tell you a story, Sarah..."

There was an awkwardness to him that was endearing, as though he had a secret that he was nervous about sharing with her. She sat down in the chair, and was surprised when he took her hands, staring at them as his thumbs gently stroked the back. She swallowed hard, glancing at his face, but he wasn't looking at her.

"Once, a very long time ago, a prince was born. He was the pride of his mother and father: a very clever, very handsome, very bright young boy. He excelled at his subjects, be it maths or more creative endeavors. He had a grip on magic that most only ever dreamed of, and it was raw magical talent. However, the boy had one flaw that no one could suspect."

She blinked when he mentioned a flaw. Before she could stop herself, she spoke. "Besides an overwhelming ego?"

He glanced up, a faint smirk on his lips. "That would have been considered a fine attribute." He paused for a moment, before he continued, as though gathering his thoughts. "No, the flaw was something less obvious, unless, of course, one was his instructor. You see, the boy could not..."

When he stopped, she thought he had changed his mind about telling her. "Jareth?"

He looked up at her, as though startled, and she barely realized that she'd spoken his name. She felt a blush light her cheeks, but she didn't look away. He shook the shock off a moment later, and lowered his gaze once again. He cleared his throat a bit, before he spoke again. "He could not read, Sarah."

She blinked, stunned. She lifted a hand, tilting his face up, unable to believe his words. "Are you serious?"

He gave her a faint smile. "He tried for years to learn, studied carefully. Finally, in order to continue his education, he learned a spell which would read the text for him, out loud. This way, he was able to study, to learn stronger magics, so when he was an adult, no one dared claim he was not fit to rule his kingdom." He gave a weak laugh. "The one thing that he loved more than anything, the thing he wanted more than anything, was the one thing he couldn't have… As ever."

She blinked at that phrasing, as if there were more things he desired that he could not obtain. She searched his face as she dissected the words and a thought came to her – Jareth in her dream begging her to love him. She swallowed hard, resting her forehead against his. She took a moment to collect her thoughts, then gave a faint smile. "Well, you might not be aware, but I tend to read in the evenings before dinner. I wouldn't mind sharing the stories that I read with you. That is..." she paused, straightening, and smiling for him. "If you wouldn't mind keeping me company."

He looked surprised. Then a pained smile turned up his lips. "That sounds lovely," he agreed, his own hand lifting and touching her face. "However, I would not have you trouble yourself with this correspondence, my dear. Go about your day. I will likely miss our piano lesson today, however, you should practice, and I will meet you in the library around six. Is that acceptable?"

She smiled at him gently, and nodded. "I'll see you then." She brushed off her skirt and stood, glancing back in time to see him break the seal on the letter. She desperately wanted to know what was in that letter, however there was nothing she could do about it. Not now, anyways.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

Jareth stared off into nothing, the letter still open on his desk, the crystal that held the reading spell rolling about mindlessly. They weren't watching closely, but they knew something had happened. They had to. That was the only reason he could think that they would be moving his trial forward.

The truth of the matter was the ones orchestrating this didn't want him to succeed. Several of them wanted to see him fail, much as they'd always enjoyed watching him struggle. He'd not been trying to grow closer to Sarah by telling her that bitter secret. His own kind were not particularly kind in the face of failure, however they were never able to unseat him completely because he always found a way to get around their rules.

Except with her.

He sighed, dragging his hand through his hair. How had she known? Why did she know that this situation had come about because of her refusal to stay at his side? He couldn't fathom an answer to the multitude of questions running through him.

Finally, he stood, not letting this little pitfall stop him. He could only move forward, enjoy the remaining time with his lady. A glance at his timepiece found that he was correct. He'd completely missed her lesson. However, about now she would be curling up with a book in the library, an activity she'd invited him to join her in.

He gave a small smile as he closed the office door, deciding to spend some quality time with the woman who held his future in her small hands.