Fifty Shades of Fey

Ch 7: Emotions Run High

By the time Sarah reached her room, her chest was tight and burning, just like her eyes. Sniffing, she went to wipe her eyes as the tears threatened to fall, only to be confronted with the blue book gripped tightly in her hand, her name in silver on the front seeming to mock her. With a frustrated scream, she threw it into the fire burning in the hearth and slammed her parlor door shut, locking it. Leaning against the cool wood of the door she finally burst into tears, the crackling sound of the fire eating the pages of the book echoing in her ears.

Sure, the spanking had hurt, but not that badly – certainly not bad enough to cry over. So why was she bawling like a baby?

Sarah thumped her forehead on the door, as if by doing so she might be able to sort her jumbled emotions into some sense of order – or at least enough order that she could understand why she was crying. Everything was all mixed up and it made her heart and mind hurt trying to sort it all out.

Yes, she was angry. But being angry made sense. Anger was a reasonable response to what had just happened and Jareth was the most obvious recipient for her anger, after all he had just spanked her. Not only that, but he was punishing her and by all accounts would continue to punish her should she break his rules. Beating her hands on the door, Sarah pushed away from it and into her bedroom as she sniffed, wiping her face with the sleeve of her shirt.

It wasn't fair.

None of it was fair.

Sighing, Sarah threw open the door of her dressing room and started to change into her pajamas. If she was honest with herself, she knew why she was so angry, and it wasn't just because Jareth had the gall to punish her. No, she had agreed to being punished as part of the conditions of the contract, even if she didn't understand that is what the 'authority' clause meant at the time. The very fact that Jareth had that much power over her infuriated her - infuriated and frightened her. It frightened her because on some level, she enjoyed it, both his control over her and his punishment.

"Gah! That is just wrong on so many levels. It's fucked up," she muttered angrily to herself. Flopping down on the vanity bench she picked up a hair brush and began to viciously brush her hair, almost welcoming the pain of the brush ripping through knots because it distracted her from the delicious way her stomach clenched when he spanked her and the way heat pooled deep inside her each time he purred her name and gave her that stern look. "Argh!" she snapped, tossing the brush onto the vanity hard enough to send it skittering off the table and onto the floor. "I don't like him. I'll never like him! He's just a pompous, arrogant, son of a bitch who is getting off on torturing me with this whole 'I have power over you' thing," she grumbled, but she knew she was lying. A part of her did like Jareth, even when she was caught in his Labyrinth.

As much as she hated to admit it, even to herself, she had regretted the way things had been left between them at the end of her Labyrinth adventure. Late at night, when she was finally alone in the quiet darkness of her room, safe under the covers, she would let her mind wander, imagining what it would have been like if her dream had actually come true while she was there – if Jareth had actually kissed her. Three times during her adventure, she had been sure he would do it. Three times she had felt her pulse race and her breathing grow shallow as she prepared to feel his silken lips on hers. And three times she had been left waiting and disappointed, feeling silly that she could even think he'd be interested in a young girl like her.

The first time was when he was before she had even entered the Labyrinth proper. He had pressed so tightly against her back as he murmured in her ear, trying to deter her…. 'It's further than you think. And time is short.' The heat of his breath against her ear was such a surprise that she froze, mesmerized and titillated by the feeling. Only after that night would she wish she had pressed back into him.

Deep in the tunnels he had cornered her again, flaunting his tight trousers and the sinfully sensual leather jacket as he baited her with his words and double-entendres. Sarah sighed remembering how he had leaned against the wall, his arm effectively pinning her between himself and the cold stone, almost forcing her to lean toward the heat of him. Her heart nearly stopped when he had purred at her, asking how she was enjoying his Labyrinth, the sound of his voice sending a shiver through her whole body that was so strong she was sure he must have felt it through the very stones of the Labyrinth. It had been on the tip of her tongue to quip, "I'd like it better with your tongue down my throat," but 14-year-old girls didn't say such things to Fey kings, no matter how handsome and enchanting they might be. It was just not done. Sarah wasn't sure where that was written, but she was sure that was a rule. It had to be.

And then there was the peach dream.

That damn enchanted peach. Oh, she was still angry that Jareth put Hoggle up to giving her the peach, and that he'd tricked her. But no matter how angry she might be, there were parts of that dream that she cherished, particularly now that she was old enough to see the decadent debauchery that was just barely hidden in that ballroom. She was so young that while she 'saw' things happening in the press of dancers and guests, she didn't recognize what was really going on until a year later. She and her best friend Antonia had been staying up watching cable when they ran across a porn channel and watched it until the wee hours of the morning. From that little 'education', Sarah was able to put 'two-and-two' together, finally making sense of some of the things that she had 'seen' in the ballroom – like the man's legs and bum hanging out from under a woman's volumous skirts, while his head and torso were hidden from view, as the woman moaned with abandon, flashing Sarah a knowing look. And the way that two men sandwiched a woman between them as they danced, pressing tightly against her while she 'squealed' with delight.

Oh yes. She saw what was really going on in that ballroom.

Too little, too late though.

Then there was Jareth. As he sang to her, she felt him pressing tighter and tighter against her, until she could feel his body against hers, despite the layers of material she was swathed in. Virgin thought she might be, she remembered the hard heat of him and the way she could actually feel him throb against her, making her blush as he leaned in, his lips nearly touching hers.

And she had to go and ruin it!

Okay, sure. She was only 14 and didn't understand the nature of what was going on, that didn't mean she didn't at least want to be kissed. And yes, she had to save Toby, after all it wasn't his fault that she wished him away. But at the end of the day, she often wondered what would have happened if she had offered herself to Jareth in trade.

Of course, as things turned out, he ended up with both she and Toby anyway.

Both of them. Under his thumb.

Sarah sighed, looking at pale reflection that stared back at her from the depths of the mirror, tear-streaked cheeks set off by wide green eyes that even now threatened to let go with more tears. She gave a soft laugh as tears started to fall again, the hollow sound quickly swallowed up by the expansive racks of clothing that lined the dressing room. It was ironic really, in her daydreams of trading herself to the Goblin King, she had considered what being under his control might be like. So many times late at night, she had laid there, imaging far more 'intimate' exhibitions of his control, her breathing coming in quick gasps as she would shudder, biting her lip until it bled so as not to cry out his name while her fingers found their soft target – not wanting him to appear and see her like that.

Sadly enough, the reality of being under Jareth's control, was vastly different.

"Things are not always what they seem….well that's true enough, she muttered with a sad sniff, then buried her face in her arms, crying atop the cluttered top of the vanity.


Jareth stood by the open French doors leading out of his study, breathing deep of the cool crisp air. He needed the cool air to clear his head after Sarah fled his office – cool air or a cold shower. He didn't quite care which.

The Goblin King knew that as his ward and effectively a member of his family, that as soon as she signed the contract he would be able to feel her emotions. Within royal families of the Underground, there was always an emotional link, as a protective measure. She had no idea that the contract was magical in that way, although the wording was perfectly legitimate in the Aboveground. He had not planned to monitor her feelings when she agreed to the contract, but then he didn't realize just how freely she would project them or how strong they would be. Sarah was a creature ruled by her emotions and they were….loud. Distractingly so.

Between the scent of her emotions and the feelings caused by them, merely having her in his study threatened to overwhelm him. Earlier in the day he had shielded himself from her emotions, allowing only the faintest tastes of them to seep through his defenses just so that he could keep tabs on her mood. Since it was the first time he was to punish her, he elected to remove his shielding in his study – that was his first mistake. The second was under-estimating just how much of an impact he was having on her. And as it turned out, his impact was considerable. And confusing.

That was what he felt most keenly now, as he watched the moon begin her slow ascent into the sky.

Confusion.

Yes, there were other emotions underpinning it – lots of anger which he felt as bright flashes of red and the scent of burning leaves. Then there was sadness, with its bitter smell. And the scent of desire still coated both the anger and sadness, surrounded by a faint tinge of fear. But overall, the most overwhelming of them all was confusion.

And in a way, he was as confused by her whirling emotions as she was.

Sure, he expected her to be angry. But the other emotions were a puzzle to him. He had gone out of his way not to frighten her. And he wasn't sure how sadness fit into things. The desire however, was a surprise, but still a puzzle. In fact, while it was unexpected, it presented a certain level of 'potential' to him – the possibility of someday hoping that the desire might morph into something more enduring.

Shaking his head he sighed, 'Best not to think such things….Love…especially the love of a human…is a tricky thing at best,' he mused. Yes, human love was confusing enough, but considering that upon signing the contract Sarah had become a changeling, and the love response of a changeling was unpredictable at best.

Frowning, he wondered if it would have been better for both of them is she didn't desire him. And he, desire her.

Desire.

He had desired her when she first called upon him, intrigued and enchanted by the strength of the girl and her innocence, which tasted fresh and pure – as it should. Oh, he had desired her, but even the Goblin King has standards, although most would argue otherwise. No, as much as he wanted to keep the girl and groom her to be his, she was far too young to understand the consequences of the offer. Despite the fact he was bound by the rules to offer her the dream crystal when she was on the verge of winning, he was actually relieved when she turned it down.

The dream crystal always came with a catch, as most things do when dealing with a Labyrinth runner. While it would give the winner their dreams, they were only temporary. What it really did was make the winner property of the Goblin King. Usually when a runner took the crystal, he assigned them a role within the castle or kingdom, penance for their 'crime'. Occasionally, if the runner were older he might keep them as a 'toy', using them until he was bored as punishment for their misdeed, then passing them off as a concubine to another of the Fey nobility. He knew that by human standards such a thing was frowned upon, but his was a culture of punishment, and that included slavery of various types – that is why he was glad Sarah had the strength of character to turn down the crystal. As much as he hated that she denied him and defied him at every turn, it made it easier on him. While the rules would have allowed him to keep her for his own, even her age was not a problem by Fey standards, however he felt otherwise. Her innocence was too lovely, and although he may play the villain, even he did not wish to take that innocence from her – at least not at that time.

Now, however, things were different.

Given the chance he would gladly relieve her of some of the innocence that still clung to her like the sweetest of tempting perfumes. Jareth's smirked as he considered the sweet scent and feel of her desire that made him ache inside. Indeed, he would be most happy to help relieve her of her innocence, as well as the unquenched desire. For a price. 'Forever isn't very long at all…to be mine, Sarah Precious,' he thought, his lips curling in a dark smirk

Still, while her desire and what he would like to do about it were delicious to consider, it was her fear that concerned him most. If he were to take advantage of the desire, he needed to address the fear first.

And with that, the Goblin King took off into the night, his human guise falling away as he took to wing and flew low over the labyrinth that filled the expansive back yard. Cicling the portal gem at the center of the great maze, he hooted as it gave a glowing purple flash, then slipped through it into the mysts between worlds. His wings beat silently in the night sky as he rose higher over his beloved Labyrinth. No matter what Sarah may think of him thanks to the cranky comments of Hoggle, Jareth was not the cold, cruel ruler she beloved him to be. True, he was stern, but he had to be – goblins were not given to being easily controlled and would ignore orders delivered kindly. No matter how cruelly he might treat his goblin subjects, they loved him and respected him for it. And, being the diplomat that he was, he did not treat his non-goblin subjects with the same level of cruel coldness, they didn't need it. What Sarah didn't understand, because she did not see it in her journey through his kingdom, was the fact that his subjects, both goblin and not, adored their ruler. He ruled them fairly but strictly, and was extremely generous when his rules were followed.

With another low hoot, he dropped gracefully onto the balcony of his private chambers, his avian form melting away to leave him in his preferred attire for lounging at home, loose silk trousers and an open front silken shirt. Stretching his shoulders from his journey, he walked through the richly appointed rooms, the torches and fireplace lighting as he moved. The Goblin King settled at his desk to begin catching up on matters of state in his kingdom, glad that as Fey, his trips between worlds did not task his his energy levels greatly, thanks much to the strange way that time flowed between the worlds. Pulling the first of many missives from the stack upon his desk, he began to read, only to interupted several minutes later with a soft 'thump' as a blue book landed in the middle of his desk. Picking it up, he traced the name on the cover, the scent of smoke and ash clinging to the leather as the blacked edges began repairing themselves until they were once again their usual pristine state.

"Oh Sarah love…what am I to do with you?" he chuckled, then sat the book down and began to formulate a plan.


Late in the evening, Jareth settled on his bed to read through his own punishment book. He smiled at the carefully written comments from his beloved mother, father and tutors, wondering idly how he ever managed to survive to adulthood, given some of the things he had done in his youth. He was particularly puzzled at what possessed him to attempt to ride an untrained dragon at the tender age of 10. Surely he should never have survived to see 11 with that foolishness, but somehow he had. Chuckling, he hoped that Toby would not prove to be the handful had had been, although he was quite sure that when his mother discovered he now had a son, she would be hoping the boy would be far worse than Jareth had ever had been.

How was it the Americans liked to put it? Oh yes…'Payback is a bitch'.

As he read, he started to feel an odd squeezing in his chest. Frowning, he put the book down and waited, recognizing the feeling as it grew stronger, seeming to force the air from his lungs. He knew the feeling and it wasn't originating with him - but with Sarah.

With a small shimmer of gold, he disappeared from his chambers, appearing in the next instant next to Sarah's bed while she gasped, sitting up and frantically shaking the small blue inhaler. She was surprised when Jareth showed up, but was too panicked by the lack of air to even think of fighting him when he took the inhaler from her. He continued to prime it, as he sat down behind her, again tucking her back against his chest like he had the night before. Sarah could feel the slow, steady rise and fall of his own breathing, sub-consciously trying to mimic it despite her gasping and wheezing; at the same time she cursed her luck. Her libido was screaming in joyfully at the feeling of being nestled against Jareth's chest, while her body howled at the need for air – declaring all other sensations and thoughts officially null and void.

Jareth's arm slid warmly around her, holding her against him as he tucked the mouthpiece between her gasping lips.

"Slowly, Sarah," he instructed gently, then pressed down on the canister, relieved when she sucked in the medicine.

After several long moments, she exhaled, her breathing already starting to ease a bit. Reaching out, she tried to take the inhaler from him, rasping, "I've got it now."

Shaking his head, Jareth murmured, quietly but firmly, "No, Sarah. Relax and let me help." He held the mouthpiece up for her again and depressed the canister a second time, pleased when she didn't fight him on it.

When the second dose was done, he opened his hand, offering her the blue pump.

Sarah felt her face flush as she took it from him, knowing she should pull away, but his chest was so warm, and the feel of his arm around her seemed so safe and comfortable. For his part, Jareth was reluctant to let her go as well, he was worried about her health. Once she was breathing more evenly, he released his hold so that she could move away if she so wished. His owl self hooted inwardly in triumph when she didn't rush away from his embrace, but gradually shifted sideways, so she was still touching his bent leg, but not as closely.

"How did you know, Jareth?" she asked softly, her pale features dimly lit in moonlight that peeked through the curtains of her room. "You knew last night too."

He smiled softly at her, brushing a bit of hair from her face. "You are, for all intents and purposes, a member of the royal line of the Goblin Kingdom, Sarah. I can feel when you are in physical peril and I will always come for you," he said. While ever I have breath in my body…I will always rescue you, Precious, he added silently, smiling at the way she blushed, the heat of her cheeks visible even in the dim light.

"Thank you," she murmured, feeling her cheeks burn hotter as she registered the expanse of bare, pale chest under his open front shirt, the golden sigil of office hanging against the smooth skin. Biting her lip she forced her gaze to shift, instead watching as he tilted his head in that very owl-like way of his, a way she was quickly starting to see meant he was thinking something serious.

Fey though he may be, Jareth had enough dealings with Aboveground children to understand such things as medication and the seriousness of some diseases. It rankled him that while he could do many things, he could not heal Sarah of this affliction. He knew enough to realize that it should not be happening this often.

"Sarah, correct me if I'm wrong, but your attacks…they are usually not so frequent, yes?" he asked, his tone quiet and concerned, as he narrowed his blue eyes.

She sighed and nodded, "True. They haven't been this bad since I was a child. I don't know why they are as bad as they are. I use my regular medication."

Frowning, Jareth looked at her, then slowly nodded. "Okay, after breakfast tomorrow we are getting you examined."

Sarah wrinkled up her nose, "I hate doctors, Jareth. There isn't much they can do anyway."

She was surprised when Jareth laughed, shaking his head, making the silvery blonde strands shimmer in the moonlight.

"I said nothing about a 'doctor', Sarah," he chuckled, clearly amused by her suggestion. "While I appreciate some of the fantastic scientific innovations of your world, when it comes to the health of the royal family, I wouldn't trust them as far as Sir Didymus could throw them." Seeing her confusion he patted her hand, "Relax, Sarah. I will have my own healer drop in tomorrow following breakfast. She will meet with you and I have no doubt she should be able to help us understand why this is happening so frequently."

Stifling a yawn, Sarah nodded warily at him.

"Good. Now, get some sleep, Sarah," he said, rising and tugging her covers back.

Sarah was torn, part of her squealing at the fact that Jareth clearly meant to tuck her in, while the rest of her just felt sheepish about it – she was a grown woman for crying out loud, she didn't need to be tucked in. All the same, she slide between the sheets and down until her head was on the pillow. Just as she suspected, Jareth tucked the covers around her. For a split second she even thought he might kiss her, her heart starting to beat frantically in her chest.

Feeling her heart begin to race again, Jareth wondered if she was heading into another attack, until he smelled the telltale signature of desire and anticipation. For all her declarations that she was an adult, Sarah not only needed someone to care for her, she clearly craved it. Smiling quietly he reached out and stroked her cheek, his smile broadening when she leaned ever so slightly into his caress, so lightly he didn't think she even realized what she had done.

"Good night, Sarah," Jareth murmured, as she shut her eyes. He could feel the sense of peace and security flowing through her and it made him smile.

Before she could open her eyes again, he disappeared, reappearing in his own bed in the manor. Shaking his head, he laughed to himself as he lay back on the smooth silk of the sheets. "How you turn my world," he chuckled, pulling a crystal from the air and watching the girl drift closer to sleep. As she finally slept, he let his defenses down against both her and Toby's feeling, two shimmering threads seeming to fade into existence, flowing around his chest, each pulsing with the heartbeat of one of his wards. He watched the two shimmering cords of purple and green throb steadily until they synced with his own, then he smiled. It was quite ordinary for immediate Fey family members to sync in that way, but he had not been expecting that of Sarah and Toby, at least not so soon.

Shutting his own eyes, the Goblin King let the gentle hum of their combined hearts, lull him to sleep, while he floated on the sensation of warmth and being protected that he felt from both Toby and Sarah.


A/N: Well, there you go. Thanks for being patient. Those of you who expect the same level of smut in this story that I usually write, might find that won't be the case for a number of chapters yet – but this doesn't mean there won't be hints of it *lol* Gotta keep the UST going. ;)