I
Chapter 36
War, Sarah thought to herself. A war was coming. When? Did it have something to do with her? What lesson? She needed answers and she needed them now. Surely, from what Labyrinth had said, this pertained to her. Would Jareth still answer all questions if the answers involved her in some way? She was determined to find out. It was surprising how quickly she navigated the labyrinth when she set her will to it. In less than half an hour, she found herself at Jareth's study. She let herself in quickly, startled to find Hoggle and Sir Didymus already inside.
"Hey guys," she called out happily as she stepped forward and bent to hug them. The smile left her face quickly as they looked away.
Jareth cleared his throat. "I will send your friends to you when we have concluded our business," he stated, rising from his desk chair to show her out.
Sarah didn't need magic to realize that there was something very serious going on. "I'd rather stay," she replied.
The Goblin King studied her, his mismatched eyes revealing nothing of his thoughts. "Very well," he said as he changed direction and brought a third chair for Sarah. "But you must not interrupt. Agreed?"
Sarah nodded, and Jareth inclined his head in acknowledgement of her silent promise. She watched Jareth resume his seat, fear clawing at her.
He leaned forward and pinned Hoggle and Didymus with a hard stare. "I have given a great deal of thought to your punishment," he began. Sarah's eyes widened, but she swallowed back her questions. The fox and the dwarf looked down, clearly ashamed. "You, Hoggle, you defied a direct order from your king and in so doing you deprived a runner of a lesson she desperately needed to learn. And you," his hard gaze travelled to Sir Didymus, "you abandoned your post without orders, a deserter. You know the standard punishment is banishment for such offenses." Here Sarah let out a small cry, unable to remain silent any longer. She was going to beg for her friends; he could see it in her eyes. "However," he continued smoothly before she could break down, "I offer you a chance to redeem yourselves." At this both the dwarf and the fox looked up, hopeful. Sarah found she was holding her breath and let it out softly.
"War is coming. I know that you, as a soldier, are aware of this," he said with a nod toward Didymus.
Sir Didymus nodded. "I have heard rumors, Sire."
"They are true. I have foreseen it, and the Labyrinth confirmed my vision. It cannot be averted. So far as I can tell, it is at least a few months off, which is where you come in. I offer you this chance only because I believe you remain loyal to the Goblin Kingdom, with a particular loyalty to Her Majesty," he said as he raised a hand and indicated Sarah. She sat stock still, barely daring to breathe, not knowing what was coming but afraid nevertheless.
"With war coming, I need information, and two disgruntled, banished, ex-citizens of the Goblin Kingdom would be in a unique position to gather such information." Jareth looked closely at both subjects. "Do you understand?"
"Spies, ya mean," said Hoggle at last. "Ya wants us to go into the Troll Kingdom and spy."
"Yes, just so," the King replied. "And I will need your answer now. If you agree, you will become smugglers, trafficking in stolen merchandise and information. I will send a contact to meet with you every fortnight at a pre-selected location near the border. If not, I will erase your memories of this conversation, and it will be as if it never happened. I will give you a moment to think about it," so saying Jareth rose and walked out of the room in silence.
Sarah looked at her friends, anguish in her eyes. "I can try…maybe I can …'" she began.
"No, My Lady," said Sir Didymus. "We must take responsibility for our actions, and I for one, will not refuse an offer of redemption. If I can help keep you safe, I will."
"Yeah," Hoggle interjected. "Jareth's a schemin' rat, but he's a pretty good king, an' he's right. I do love this place; my only friends are here," he said softly, looking askance at Sarah.
Sarah let the tears slip free then as she hugged her friends, knowing this was goodbye.
Chapter 36
After Sir Didymus and Hoggle had left to put their affairs in order, Sarah rounded on Jareth. "How could you?" she demanded. "How could you use them this way? They could be killed!" she exclaimed.
Jareth was growing frustrated with what he viewed as a childish tantrum. "Death is an absolute certainty in war," he replied pragmatically. "Do you think I want to do this, send two of my subjects into mortal danger? I need information, Sarah, if I am to protect the nearly half million other subjects of this kingdom. As I am involved in this war, my foresight is very limited. As a monarch, you must learn that sometimes the ends do justify the means," he said as he strode down the hallway to make arrangements for his new spies.
Sarah couldn't believe it. How had things gotten so out of control? She retreated to the kitchen, loaded a tray and set off for the bedroom to eat alone in silence. She had been right. The Underground really was a horrible place. After lunch, she lay on the bed and tried to read. For the last week she had been in charge of her own education with the departure of her previous tutor, Professor Quintus. Jareth hadn't wanted Ana to start until after the hearing. Now, she wasn't sure she wanted Ana to start at all. But, it seemed not to matter what she wanted. Maybe it would never matter again. She turned her head as she heard the door open and shut quickly.
Jareth crossed the room and sat on the bed behind her. He leaned back against the headboard and crossed his ankles. Sarah had the distinct impression he was settling in for a while. She waited.
"I'm sorry," he said at last. That was the last thing she had expected from the arrogant Goblin King. "I was…harsh…with you," he continued.
Sarah struggled into a sitting position; she mimicked Jareth's posture, staring forward at the wall. "Yeah, yeah you were," she agreed and then sighed, "but,…I do kinda see your point. It isn't fair though."
"No, it isn't," he agreed. She was grateful he spared her a mocking response; he had, after all, been the one to drive home the lesson that life isn't fair.
"Isn't there another way?" she begged. "I can't bear it. If I'm responsible for the deaths of my friends…," she trailed off.
"I am responsible for sending them into harm's way, not you, Sarah."
"But I'm kind of responsible for this war. Erlinwar wants me. My friends, they're going because of me. Would it stop if …if I went to the Troll Kingdom?" she shuddered.
"No. Erlinwar is not the driving force behind this, Erlinwold is. Erlinwar has largely stepped down, although he has not yet abdicated in favor of his eldest son. Erlinwold views women as interchangeable. They are less than animals to him. The magic he covets is the Labyrinth, not you. He seeks a shortcut to magic his father was unwilling to take. Erlinwar believed that he could breed magic into the Troll monarchy, but with the long lifespans here in the Underground, and the limited births…" Jareth shrugged. "It will take time. Not only is Erlinwold unwilling to wait, he does not really care about seeing magic in his heirs. He wants to wield powerful magic of his own. This has been coming for some time, Sarah. In choosing to deny Erlinwold his claiming, it may have accelerated events, but it did not cause this. And your death will not stop it." Sarah sighed with relief. "I had thought that Lindell might be the match that lights the powder keg," he continued, his thoughts wandering. "I am just not sure. The current limitations of my foresight….," he trailed off.
"I don't think I can do this, Jareth. How can I be the Goblin Queen if it means I have to decide who gets to live and who has to die? I thought being a queen was glamorous and fun, balls and tea parties and charity luncheons. I didn't expect this. I never gave a serious thought about what it really means to be a leader," she whispered as she looked at his profile.
"You'll do it the same way every monarch of the Goblin Kingdom has done it. You'll struggle. You'll do the best you can with the information you have available at the time. You'll make mistakes and learn from them. You'll ask for help when you need it and take advantage of every resource available to you. You will give your heart and soul to your people, and you will never ask another to give more than you are willing to give yourself. If you ask another to go into battle, you will know that you are just as willing to die if it means the well-being of your subjects."
"I don't know that I can," Sarah said at last. "You do this so easily. You're cut out for this. I'm not."
"I'm cut out for this now. I've had a lot of time to get it mostly right." He grinned a self-deprecating smile.
"Will you ever tell me how you became the Goblin King, about your life before, your mother…why you had no other options but to wish yourself and your sisters to the goblins?"
"Yes," he said at last. "Brigid and Ana are right. You do need to know before someone else tells you one of the misinformed versions. I will tell you tonight," he said at last with a resigned sigh. "With several caveats," he continued. Sarah nodded. "No tears and no pity, and you must try not to think less of me after you hear it."
"Okay," she said at last. "Deal." Sarah wondered what she was getting herself into as Jareth quickly swung his legs off of the bed and exited the bedroom.
Chapter 38
The rest of the day passed slowly; Sarah felt as if she was simply biding her time, anxious for night to come, for the final piece of the story to be told. On the other hand, the more she thought about it, the guiltier she felt. Jareth didn't want to talk about it, and she knew to bring this ancient history out into the open was going to cause him pain. She sighed, went down to the library, and went back to reading. It was technically time for her to practice her magic, but she was so emotionally wrung out that she was fairly certain she would lack the necessary control.
She was just about to give up on An Introduction to the Politics of the Thirteen Kingdoms, when a soft knock came. Rising from her chair in the library, Sarah opened the door to find Meep, flanked by the rest of the household staff, and the 'special' castle goblins. They crowded around her, filling the entryway and spilling into the library. "Your Majesty," began Meep as several of the goblins wearing hats, colanders, and various pots and pans took off their headgear in a show of respect. "We heard about the hearing. And, we just wanted…all of us…to let you know that we want you."
Several of the goblins were heard to murmur, "yeah," unh hunh," and various other affirmations.
"We love you, and you belong here with us," Meep continued.
"Make King happy," offered Sprog. "Hasn't bogged anyone since you been here."
They crowded around Sarah, their eyes shining, as she blinked back the tears in her eyes. She hadn't done anything much—made an effort to be kind, read the goblins a few stories now and then, slipped them a few cookies. A couple of tears slipped free as she murmured her thanks and bent to give them hugs.
After they left, her heart felt lighter than it had in weeks. She tossed the book aside and set to conjuring with a vengeance.
After dinner she waited, anxiously waiting to take her cue from Jareth. They usually either played a game or danced in the garden, sometimes both. Tonight he simply offered her his hand and began leading her to the bedroom.
As they reached the foot of the marble staircase, she pulled her hand away. "You don't have to," she whispered.
He looked confused and simply quirked a brow and waited.
"Dance with me," she said, as she reached forward and tugged his hand trying to lead him toward the garden.
He let her tug on his hand, but he made no move to follow. "Sarah, you wanted this. Are you now afraid of what you're going to hear?"
"No," she replied as she stopped tugging and stepped closer to him until only a scant few inches separated them. "I'm afraid I've pushed you into doing something you don't really want to do. I don't want to put you through the pain I know this is going to cause. It just…feels forced," she finished. "I'd rather wait 'til you're ready to tell me."
"Sarah," he said gently, "I'm ready to tell you." This time it was he who tugged on her hand as he led her up the stairs to their bedroom. It was early yet, but she readied herself for bed, leaving Jareth to compose his thoughts.
Chapter 39
As Sarah settled into bed, Jareth lay beside her and at last began to speak. "Do you remember when you called me a bastard? No," he said after a brief hesitation. "I'll have to go back further. Much of my story actually begins long before my birth. As you already know, my mother's name was Elspeth. She was the daughter of a local farmer in a rural town in what is now southern Ireland. It was not an easy life, but they had enough to get by—not as well off as the nobility, but better off than most. Their fortunes improved somewhat when the son of one of the nobles took an interest in her. She was quite beautiful, but more than that, she was a kind girl with a good heart. They were soon betrothed. One day in the early fall, she went into the woods to gather mushrooms and herbs. Unfortunately for her, one of the Fae was also out that day. He attempted to seduce her, but she refused him and ran. He gave chase."
Sarah tensed, afraid now of where this was going.
Jareth felt her tension and smiled grimly. "Yes, that is exactly what happened. He was the privileged son of a fine Fae household. No mere chit of a human girl had the right to refuse him. He raped her and left her lying in the dirt. Terribly frightened, she cleaned herself as best she could and was determined never to speak of it, a plan that probably would have worked had she not conceived a child."
"You," Sarah whispered.
"Me," Jareth confirmed. "The evidence of the attack eventually became something she could no longer conceal. Her family demanded to know who the father was. She told them the truth. Humans then feared the Fae, feared magic. Her betrothed refused to marry her; she was sullied goods now, and her family cast her out for bringing shame on their household. She was fifteen summers at the time. I was born in a cave; she birthed me on her own, no midwife, and no help—alone and in terrible pain. Fae babies tend to be large. I don't know how much history you have been taught, but there were very few resources available for a single woman with a child. There was really only one occupation open to her. History calls them everything from prostitutes and whores to fallen doves. I spent much of my early childhood in a makeshift brothel, until my mother met a mercenary named Edward, although he pronounced it Edvard. I was never certain if that was his name or a result of his accent."
He paused to sigh deeply. "Edward convinced my mother to join him. All mercenary bands had camp followers. Some were the personal women of particular mercenaries. The ones not so fortunate were for the use of the entire camp. Edward treated us relatively well, and for a time, I believe my mother was happy. I cannot prove it, but I believe Edward was Brigid's father. They looked very alike, the curly red hair and green eyes. When Brigid was about seven summers, Edward was killed in a raid orchestrated by a nearby village in an attempt to steal food for the winter."
Sarah blinked back tears. "Poor Brigid," she whispered.
"You have to remember that people then lived in loose, tribal confederations, no real central authority, no government to speak of except the squabbling local nobles, who lived in nearly as much squalor as their subjects. Overnight, my mother went from being the personal property of Edward to being a camp follower available to one and all. Life became more difficult for us all, especially her. To this day, I am uncertain of Ana's paternity. After Ana's birth, my mother's health began to decline, and within a few months, she lay dying. I was unaware of this at the time. I had been sent on my first real series of campaigns, and by the time I returned, she was gone. In retrospect, I don't know how she managed it. She loved me, of that I am very certain. How she could love me and provide for me when every year I increasingly grew to resemble her rapist, I do not know."
Jareth paused and conjured a bottle of brandy. After a long swallow, he continued. "It was after her death that I first heard of the wished away and the Goblin King. One of the other camp followers told Brigid the story of Der Kobold Teufel…literally translated it means The Goblin Devil. I began to ask about the story and learned that several of the women in camp had heard the same myths, even though they were from different tribes, a few as far away as what is now Germany and France. When I came across my own captain trying to rape my sister, I killed him. I took my sisters, and we fled. I now had no choice. Ana needed a wet nurse or she would not survive. I made the wish, which ultimately brought us here," he waved his hand to indicate the castle.
He took another long swallow of the amber liquor and continued. "As Ana told you, I ran the labyrinth for the right to place my sisters. What I did not realize was that the Goblin King was looking for an heir and had been for some time. The test was brutal. I thought at first that I was lucky when he selected me to succeed him. I came to believe, however, that he was the devil and that I was in hell. I've seen you squint. I know that, at times, you see through the glamour to the scars across my back." He looked at her, his eyes narrowed. She nodded, not trusting her voice to speak.
"The Goblin King was determined to break me and recast me in his own image. Although to the Fae I was a child, I was used to being treated as an adult. I rebelled. I was illiterate, angry, dirty, and more than a little psychologically damaged. He saw nothing wrong with beating those traits out of me with a horsewhip studded with iron rivets. He used his magic to bind me, and then he would beat me whenever I failed to live up to his expectations."
Sarah gasped, pressing her hands to her lips to keep from crying out. She remembered his earlier words about understanding what it was like to be weak and vulnerable to magic. It gave her a much different perspective on his actions when she realized the thirteen-year-old Jareth would have very likely been immensely grateful for fifteen hours of sleep and for someone to take away his pain.
Another long drink and Jareth continued. "It was then that the castle goblins, bless them, went to the Summer Queen, for I was determined that he would beat me to death before I broke. She intervened, took me to the Summer Palace, healed me, and convinced me with kindness that I wanted to be literate, that I wanted to learn magic. Through a combination of psychology and subtle rewards, she shaped me into a Fae fit to govern. Clever woman," he praised her. "She knew my passion was to be a warrior. She held out sword fighting lessons, classes in combat tactics, and hand-to-hand combat like carrots in front of a starving donkey, and I trotted dutifully behind. What the Goblin King could not accomplish by force, she did with intelligence and compassion."
"The scars," Sarah whispered. "If she healed you…?"
"I chose to keep them. They are a reminder always about using brute force to get what you want."
Sarah sat silently and stared hard at her hands, twisted in her lap. "What happened to your father? Do you know?"
"Oh yes," Jareth smiled cruelly. "I killed him."
Sarah's eyes widened as Jareth continued. "After Nicolaa died, I continued to train as I searched for him. I learned that the magic in the blood of a Fae calls out to family. When I found him, he not only did not deny it, he boastfully admitted to it, pleased to have sired a son. Under ancient Fae law, I challenged him. Dueling is frowned upon now but was quite common then. Fae can be hot-headed at times. Usually duelists fight to first blood. I will not describe to you what I did to him. I was a trained soldier, a mercenary quite skilled with a blade; he was a soft, foolish lordling playing with a sword. I was determined that he would suffer. Up until the end, I believe he truly thought I would let him live."
Jareth took another long drink, and Sarah noticed that the bottle was more than half empty now.
"Unknown to me at the time, Ana had followed me that night. Who told her about the duel, I, to this day, do not know. She saw everything. I felt nothing when I killed him. But, my heart broke when I saw the fear in her eyes. She was afraid of me." Another drink. "Nevertheless, she brought me home, cleaned me up—I was covered with his blood. I was in a kind of numb stupor." Jareth shrugged, and Sarah was fairly certain he was going to finish that bottle.
"Jareth, do Fae get alcohol poisoning?" Sarah asked with concern. "Do you want me to get you some water or something?"
He laughed. "I suppose we could. It would take a lot more than this, though," he said as he shook the nearly empty bottle slightly. "I won't be attempting any higher level sorcery, but otherwise I'm fine."
Sarah nodded, but she was still worried. He could see it in the concerned little glances she darted his way. He sighed and put the cork back in the bottle, setting it on the nightstand.
"Why didn't the High Fae Council punish him for what he did? They were certainly willing to prosecute you with a lot less evidence or reason."
He sighed. "There were several factors at play. My mother was a human of no special significance to anyone. You are a daughter of the powerful House of Tuatha De Danaan. You are, or rather will be, Fae very soon. My father, and I use that term loosely, was a minor member of Fae nobility, and while I am a king, I have no royal blood, and I also have enemies among the royals and the High Fae Houses. You will come to see that justice can be selectively enforced among the Fae, just as it is in the Above. To a certain extent, rank doth have its privileges." He glanced briefly at the brandy bottle on the nightstand, sighed and crossed his arms.
"Do you regret it?" she asked at last.
"No, but then again, I had no illusions about what I was doing or why. I realize that many people who seek revenge think it will make them feel better and are surprised when it does not. For me, there was an element of revenge, but it was more about justice. He committed heinous crimes. My mother was not his only victim, you know. When you get away with something once, why not do it again and again, since there are no consequences? There are some crimes that the only adequate punishment, the only thing one can offer in recompense, is his life. When I am in a particularly maudlin mood, I wonder how many other half siblings I had, how many had children, how many family members I would have if I went looking for them. So, now you know," he said at last. "You're bonded to a killer, and not just any killer, one who has also committed patricide."
He settled back and waited. Sarah's thoughts careened through her mind. It was a lot to take in. She looked at him then and realized he was waiting for her condemnation, for her to pass judgment. Had he told her this a month ago, it would have been different. Her paradigm of the world then was so very black and white, still very much a child's view of right and wrong. In retrospect, all of the events that had occurred since she had been in the Underground, the claiming, learning of the contracts, the hearing, they had all shown her that right and wrong were almost always shades of gray, that truth was a matter of perspective, and that sometimes the ends did justify the means. If it were her, had she lived Jareth's life, would she have done the same thing? Hell, she had learned of Erlinwold's treatment of women and expressed a fervent desire for his death. And if she were being completely honest, she was deadly serious about it. Was she really any different than Jareth? Did she really have any right to judge him?
She recalled his words. He wanted neither her pity nor her tears. She moved then, scooting over in the bed until she was pressed against his side, curled toward him, her weight on her right hip. Startled, he turned his head to look at her. She reached up gently, cupped his face, leaned forward and kissed him, trying to convey her acceptance, her understanding, and to offer comfort. Silent tears slid down her face, tears she could not prevent, and he brushed them from her cheeks as she broke the kiss. For just a moment, she was certain she saw relief in his eyes, and then he tucked her head under his chin, waved a hand to extinguish the candles, and fell asleep holding her. Sarah lay awake a long time, struggling to come to terms with the changes in herself as she realized that she was growing up, maybe a little faster than she had ever intended to.
Chapter 40
When she awoke, it was nearly 7:00 a.m., so she reached over and shut the alarm off. She was about to get up, when she realized that she wasn't alone. Jareth was usually long gone, his side of the bed cold to the touch, when she got up. Not this morning. He must be sleeping off the alcohol, she decided, when she saw the now empty brandy bottle on the nightstand. At some point last night, he must have awakened and killed the bottle, not that there had been very much left in it. He had said that he was ready to tell her, but from the sheer amount of alcohol he had consumed, she suspected that since he couldn't outright lie, he had been deluding himself.
That thought was soon followed by a much more troubling one. If he had been deluding himself about the emotional toll of that conversation, could he have been mistaken about the impact of the alcohol as well? Could he have alcohol poisoning? She leaned over him, watching him closely. His breathing was slow but steady, his color appeared normal—he was a little sleep tousled but appeared otherwise fine. She was turning to get up, when her hair swung forward and brushed his nose. He grumbled and tried to bat it away. She paused. Later when Jareth asked her, she was never able to explain why, but an impish sense of mischief possessed her at that moment. She grasped a small hank of her hair and leaned over him again, deliberately tickling his nose. He grumbled in his sleep and swatted it away, turning his face slightly. She grinned and did it again. This time one eye opened and pinned her with an irritated glare. She stifled a giggle at the childish look of consternation he shot her. Before she could even blink, he was up, and she was pinned underneath his weight.
"So, you want to play, do you?" He smirked, as he began to tickle her mercilessly. Sarah shrieked and tried desperately to block his attack, but grasping both of her wrists, he used one hand and his superior leverage to pin her hands above her head, leaving his other hand free to continue the assault. Her breaths were coming in gasps now, and she was begging brokenly for mercy when he changed tactics, lips descending to hers as he swallowed her whimpers and her gasp of surprise. Heat flared between them, and she moaned low in her throat as the assault to her senses turned sensual. He kissed her with a passionate abandon that made it hard to breathe, his tongue simulating a wild, sexual mating that made her shiver with anticipation while his free hand teased and massaged her breasts and nipples through the thin material of her long, silk nightgown. She struggled then, desperate for more. Her thighs quivered as she parted her legs and pushed into his thigh, aching for contact, for friction to soothe the insistent need at her core. He chuckled softly at her eagerness as her squirming increased. He pulled back then and pinned her with that dark, hooded gaze, a question in his eyes. "Sarah," he began. "Sarah," louder and more insistent this time. "Is this alright?"
She looked at him, dazed for a moment as he squeezed her wrists gently. It dawned on her then that he was asking if it was okay if he held her down. She flushed then as the full import of his question penetrated the lust filled fog of her brain. Truth be told, it excited her in a way she couldn't explain, so she simply nodded. He grinned wolfishly, letting his mouth follow the trail his hand had blazed earlier, licking and sucking her nipples through the thin gown, until they were thoroughly wetted, and the taut peaks strained obscenely at the now nearly translucent material, pebbling as he blew over the wet flesh. She was steadily moaning now, rocking her hips against him. As he ministered to her breasts, he allowed his free hand to wander downward, tickling the smooth, creamy flesh of her thighs and finally cupping her sex through the damp, slick, satin panties. He cupped her firmly, letting her press her overheated, aroused flesh against his palm, but he made no move to provide the friction she needed as he continued to tease her.
He tugged at her panties then, confounded things; they were most uncooperative. Well, there were certain benefits to magic, weren't there? He sent the offending garment to the bog, and just for good measure, he sent the nightgown to join it. Now, she lay spread before him, naked and aroused, a light flush to her skin as she writhed in need. "Precious," he whispered sweetly, "may I use magic?" He could see her unfocused gaze fix on him for a moment. "Trust me," he said softly in her ear as his fingers danced lightly across her slick folds.
"Mmmmm," she moaned. "M'kay," she murmured at last. With that, he let go of her wrists and used his magic to bind her. It wouldn't hold long, he knew. His concentration was not going to last, and the moment it faltered or if she struggled in earnest, she would be free. He could use a more permanent binding spell, but this was Sarah's first foray into this type of sex play, and he would do nothing that would frighten her.
Sarah found her wrists suddenly bound to the headboard with nothing but a tickle of magic. She tested the magical bonds and realized that if she wanted to, she could break them fairly easily. Was Jareth too aroused to truly bind her? She looked at him and saw the controlled lust in his eyes. No, this was for her. She lay back, excited, eager to play this out. "What now, Goblin King?" she taunted. "Out of ideas already?"
In retrospect, taunting a magically powerful being with centuries of sexual experience might not have been the best idea she had ever had. Of course, it didn't turn out to be the worst idea she had ever had either.
Jareth laughed as he shifted lower, tugging her legs so that her calves draped over his shoulders. If she had thought before that he was teasing her, he now proved to her that she hadn't a clue what he could do. His lips and tongue danced over her slick, hot flesh, teasing, licking, sucking and nibbling until she thought she would die from the pleasure of it. That's when he began using his fingers, breaking and alternating the rhythm, stroking inside, rubbing that spot inside her, over and over until she was nearly insane with pleasure. And each time she neared orgasm, he decreased the stimulation just enough to prevent her from reaching climax. It felt like forever, balanced on the edge of a razor sharp knife. Jareth was enjoying this, the bastard. He chuckled as she moaned, pleaded and then began swearing incoherently. He nipped her gently as she called him a 'bastard from hell' and then laughed at her gasp of surprised pleasure. Her hands had come free at some point. She no longer remembered exactly when, nor did she care. They lay at her sides, twisted in the sheets as she gripped them in an effort to retain a small shred of sanity.
Taking one last long, slow lick, Jareth raised his eyes to gaze at his mate. All she could do was stare at his sinfully wet mouth as he moved to cover her, his erection sliding easily between her folds to fill the aching emptiness inside her. So over stimulated was she at that point that just the act of penetration brought on her first orgasm. Her legs tightened around his hips spasmodically as she clung to him, riding out the first waves of her pleasure. He kept moving, slow and steady, deep thrusts with a slight twisting motion, and Sarah screamed again as the next wave of orgasms hit. Like a spring that had been tightly pulled and then snapped back, Sarah recoiled hard and fast, each one of the long denied orgasms slamming into her helpless body until she was certain that she was going to die from pleasure. Just when she thought dimly that she couldn't survive another orgasm, she felt Jareth's strokes becoming increasingly erratic, and with one last low prolonged groan, he spilled his pleasure inside her—holding himself upright through sheer force of will, unwilling to crush her under his weight. With the last of his strength he rolled them, so she lay sprawled over him, still joined intimately. She closed her eyes as exhaustion took her.
Her next conscious memory was coming out of deep sleep. The room was bright with sunlight and the clock read 11:23 a.m. She groaned and sat up, still tired but also famished. She couldn't wait for the Fae transition to be complete. Just six more days, she reminded herself. Someone had brought up a snack, some sliced fruit and finger sandwiches. Before the Fae transition, Sarah would have thought of it as a meal. Now it was the appetizer. It took just enough of an edge from her hunger to let her take a long, hot bath and hold out for lunch.
As she luxuriated in a peach scented bubble bath, she blushed. She had had sex with the Goblin King again. Although she had told him that she had come to terms with it, and she had at the time, she still felt a bit of guilt. Just a bit. It was really hard to feel bad about something that felt that freakin' good. If she were completely honest, and there was no reason not to be—it was just her and the soap here, there were a lot of things in the Underground to like. The adventure of it all was thrilling, her magic was strong and becoming stronger all the time as she learned to control it, and sex with Jareth was…well, there just weren't words, but 'wonderful' and 'fabulous' came pretty darn close. Deep down, Sarah was a realist. Although she dreamed of magic and pixie dust, her mother walking out just before her eighth birthday and the death of her grandmother from a series of strokes the year before, had left Sarah with a thorough taste of the bitterness of life. Sometimes, the only real choice was to make the best of the situation, go forward and live your life the best that you could. And well, Sarah thought to herself as she metaphorically squashed that last bit of niggling guilt under her boot heel, if that meant that she was going to enjoy sex with her husband on a hopefully regular basis, what was really wrong with that? She hummed as she toweled her hair dry and got ready for the day.
No, she decided, what she needed to expend her energy on was the upcoming war. Jareth had told her that he had begun evacuation drills throughout the kingdom and had started to surreptitiously stockpile non-perishable food and medical supplies. The goblin army was training daily now, and he was doing all in his power to ready the kingdom for invasion without sending the general populace into a panic. She wished there was something she could do. She hated feeling helpless, and worse yet, she felt like a burden. So, Jareth had promised that he would begin training her more fully in offensive magic, so she could, at least, have some hope of defending herself. He also intended that Athienne would begin teaching her to heal. She might be of use in triage, even if it was just a rough and ready stop gap measure that would stabilize someone enough for a real healer to take over.
Sarah sighed as she pushed open the doors to the dining hall. Disappointment arced through her when she saw that a message crystal sat in Jareth's place. As she picked it up, she heard his words whisper into her mind.
"Sarah, I hope you slept well as you seemed very tired." [soft chuckle] "I am meeting with the High Fae Council. Despite what my foresight has shown me and confirmation from the Labyrinth, I am attempting to get the Council to intercede, and hopefully, prevent this war. If not, I will use the meeting to reaffirm support from our allies. I will not be back in time for your lesson, but Athienne will be here this evening, barring an emergency requiring her services. If I am not back in time, I wanted to let you know that your lessons with Ana begin tomorrow morning. I will, hopefully, be back by then."
Oh well. At least with nothing else to do, she would be getting in a lot of study time.
