A/N- Thanks for your continued reading! Here, trouble in paradise for Rasha ;)
Chapter 11- Illusions Shattered
Present
Things were fucking weird.
That was the only way Rasha could describe it. Something was going on, and for the first time that she could remember, Rasha wasn't on the inside of it, but on the outside wondering what was happening. It annoyed her to no end and frightened her immensely.
It wasn't anything specific she could put her finger on. Sarah was still sleeping in her own apartments, alone. Jareth was still requesting her to sleep with him in his own chambers. Rasha wouldn't have thought anything of it, except she knew for a fact that more than "talking" had transpired between Sarah and Jareth that night in dining hall a month ago- her own informant had confirmed that much. After returning from her errand in the dungeon, she had found Jareth in his chambers, writing at his desk, as if nothing had happened. Later, Rasha had again questioned her informant, but the stupid girl had been unable to provide anything more, embarrassed by what she had seen earlier. Rasha had smacked her soundly for that. Whatever had happened between the king and queen, and Rasha was certain something had, it must have been responsible for the changes in the king.
He would not touch her. He avoided her. He either complained of fatigue at night and went to sleep without so much as a peck on the cheek, or he didn't make it to bed at all, leaving Rasha alone between the sheets. He begged forgiveness for his absences during the day, blaming his schedule, or a meeting with the council, or addressing a pressing matter with a local townsperson. So far Rasha had not caught him in an outright lie, but she knew a ruse when she saw one. Something had changed in their dynamic, and it left Rasha hunting furiously for the reason why. If she no longer had this hold over him, if he no longer desired her, even if it was merely out of spite for his wife's alleged infidelity, Rasha was no longer in control, and she could not abide that. She even bribed a different servant (that quiet girl was useless) to watch the queen carefully, with orders to report back to Rasha the minute something unusual happened, particularly if the king came to "visit" her again. Nothing out of the ordinary had come to pass.
Rasha was determined to gain control of the situation again. If that meant she had to go straight to the source to do it, so be it.
It was early afternoon. The queen was in her sewing circle in the library, hosting some of the senior ladies of the court. The king would be alone in his office, working on documents and letters. Perfect.
Rasha cracked the door, and found him seated at a desk, reclined in his chair, skimming a bundle of reports. He did not look up as Rasha entered the room, nor when she closed and locked the door behind her. Rasha sauntered over to him, a simpering smirk on her lips, bringing her hands to her chest to begin loosening the ties at the top of her gown as she walked. He still did not look up, pointedly ignoring her. Rasha would not be dissuaded. She quickly ducked behind his seat, and covered his eyes gently with her hands.
"Guess who," she whispered into his ear in a breathy gasp.
"The Royal Guard," Jareth responded drily, swatting her hands away and then settling into his chair again without further comment. Rasha glared at the back of his head, before continuing, determined. She turned and leaned against the edge of the desk so that she could face him, bringing her hands to her ties once again, pulling on them suggestively.
"I thought, my king," she continued in that breathy whisper, "that you and I could play a game."
Jareth glanced up for a brief moment, then back to his papers without a second thought.
"I am busy, my dear," he stated while continuing his perusal of the reports before him, "perhaps later."
Rasha went from annoyed to infuriated. Here she was, the most beautiful woman in the land offering herself up freely, and she lost out to bundle of papers?!
"I see," she said icily, "you must be terribly busy, indeed."
Here Jareth gave her his full attention, his eyes ablaze with anger. He flung the papers on his desk without looking, lacing his fingers in his lap. His relaxed posture was at odds with his ferocious expression.
"Whatever do you mean, dearest?" Jareth bit out through clenched teeth.
His tone did nothing to tamper her anger.
"I mean, your majesty," Rasha continued with as much indignant anger as she could manage, "that it has been a month since you and I have...well…"
"Fucked?" Jareth snapped. Rasha's expression softened. Nothing would be accomplished by angering him.
"No, sire," here she clasped her hands and let them hang before her, the picture of an innocent girl, "since we made love."
Jareth snorted. "Whatever you and I have done, my dear, it was never making love."
That hurt. It shouldn't have, but it did. After all, wasn't Rasha using Jareth just the same way he was using her? Whenever he gripped her by the neck and shoved her into the bed, whenever he ripped her garments off and slammed into her, over and over again, whenever he snarled into her ear, "take it, take it, fucking take it," and always withdrew and walked away immediately after he came within her, she had known she was being used for her body only. Whether it was as an outlet for his anger or as a stand-in for his wife, she had never known and never cared to know. She just closed her eyes and thought of the throne until it was over. But over the many times Jareth had used her so roughly, she had begun to think that maybe he was attaching just a tiny bit of worth to her, more than they average woman that occupied his court.
"Surely it was more than just that, my king?" Rasha ventured, a twinge of real hurt on her face and in her voice.
Jareth's gaze thawed every so slightly, and he looked towards the window, away from Rasha. Something like chagrin or regret crossed his face. He spoke, still looking away.
"Rasha, you are not naive. You may wish for people to think that you are, but you are in point of fact, quite intelligent and perceptive." He turned back to look at her face, his complimentary words at odds with his flat, unimpressed expression. He continued,
"Never did I give you reason to believe I cared for you. Never did I do anything to make you think what we were doing was the result of some deep-seated longing I had for you. No such longing exists, and you know it. I consider what passed between us to be a regrettable lapse in judgement on my part; I can't speak to what it was for you, but I'm not ignorant to your ambition like you believe me to be."
Rasha willed her face to go blank, to hide the anger and, surprisingly, shame she felt welling within her.
"We would have made an acceptable couple," and here Jareth paused, raising his left hand to look as he twirled his wedding ring around his finger, "but we would have never had what Sarah and I have."
"And what is that," Rasha spat before she could stop herself, "love?"
Jareth snapped his head up and glared at Rasha, before spitting back at her,
"Don't be such a sore loser, Rasha. You wanted me to fuck you and I did. Because you thought it would bring you closer to me and eventually the throne, or because it would hurt Sarah, I don't know and I don't care."
Jareth stood abruptly, getting in Rasha's face before continuing with cold fury in his voice,
"It only proves to me more that Sarah is and will always be the better queen. Do you know why?"
Rasha merely sneered at him in anger, refusing to answer him.
"Because whether or not Sarah and I love each other is none of your fucking business, and none of the court's fucking business, and none of this entire realm's fucking business. All any of you need to know is she has my trust- no matter what- and I would rather die than rule with anyone else at my side."
Here Jareth's hand shot out and gripped Rasha by her enviable locks, tugging roughly, forcing Rasha to stand on her tiptoes to avoid having her hair pulled out by the roots.
"Even if Sarah fucked 100 men and bore 1,000 bastard children, she would still be a better queen- and woman- than you."
Jareth flung Rasha's head backward over the desk and stalked away, slamming the door against the wall in his anger as he flung it open and headed for the library.
Rasha allowed herself a moment of weakness to recover, and a single tear slid down her cheek.
OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo
Sarah arched her back gently, her hands on her hips, trying to ease some of the stiffness that had accumulated from sitting for so long. The meeting with the senior ladies of the court had been uneventful but long, each taking their sweet time heaping embarrassing amounts of praise and good wishes onto the child she and the king were expecting. Sarah knew that very few, if any of them, were sincere in their thoughts, but the sentiments were nice to hear anyway. Sarah had her attendants show her guests to their carriages at the front of the castle after their meeting had concluded, affording her a few precious minutes to herself.
After stretching and working some of the tension and numbness out of her back and buttocks, Sarah took the advantage of the solitude to wander the stacks and shelves in the library, wondering absentmindedly if there were any parenting books hiding among the ancient Fae tomes. Sarah snickered at the mental image of Jareth studiously concentrating over a copy of "What to Expect When You're Expecting".
"Something amusing in the history of tax law, my love?"
Jareth's honeyed tones drifted over to her from behind another shelf, hidden from view. Sarah quickly looked around trying to find him, only to see him standing inches from her when she turned back around. She jumped back, startled, then began giggling when Jareth pulled her in close, a mischievous, leering grin on his face. Jareth ducked his head, and began sucking harshly on her neck, guiding her gently back into a shelf. Sarah moaned loudly; he had found her favorite spot.
"Jareth," she breathed, "we'll be seen."
"Hmmnmmhmmmnmmm…" Jareth muttered into her skin, his hands roving from her lower back up and to her chest where he eagerly grasped her breasts and began groping them excitedly.
"What?" Sarah didn't really care what he had said; she was too wrapped up in the sensations of what he was doing to her body. His wet tongue on her neck, the sweet pressure he was creating, the feel of his hands on her breasts as he pinched her nipples as much as he could through the fabric of her gown. It overwhelmed her body and flooded her sex with heat. Jareth stopped his assault on her neck long enough to answer,
"I said I don't fucking care." He returned to her skin, treating the other side of her neck with renewed vigor. Sarah's whole body clenched in response. Sarah wrapped her arms around Jareth as tightly as possible, pulling him closer. She arched her pelvis forward, desperate for contact. She heard and felt Jareth chuckle darkly against her skin before commenting,
"Is there something my queen desires?" Sarah smiled, but reason interjected itself sharply into her mind when she remembered that her attendants would be returning any minute. She sighed in disappointment.
"Jareth, you know we can't be seen like this, you said so yourself."
Jareth sighed in return, dropping his hands to her waist and pulling his head up to look in her eyes.
"I know, my love, you're right. Then again," he chuckled wryly, "I think I may have already ruined our plan."
Sarah furrowed her brows in confusion. "What do you mean?"
Jareth's slight grin disappeared, replaced by serious concern. He took her hands in his, raising them to his lips and kissing each of her fingers tenderly before laying them to rest on his chest and covering them with his own hands. He clarified,
"Rasha came to see me today. She was a bit more….determined than in previous attempts. I lost my patience with her." Here Jareth rested his forehead against Sarah's before continuing, "I may have shown more of my hand than I meant to."
Sarah immediately blanched and looked up into Jareth's eyes.
"You don't think that-"
"No." Jareth answered shortly, with certainty. "She knows nothing of consequence. However," Jareth smiled knowingly here, "I may have definitively shattered her illusion that she might ever ascend to the throne."
Sarah smiled in return. She liked to think she was a good person in general, but the thought of Rasha having her dreams crushed made her feel warm and giddy inside.
"I wish I had been there to see it," Sarah replied softly.
Jareth smiled warmly in return, before cupping her face in his hands, "You still won't tell me?"
Sarah closed her eyes, partly in frustration, partly from exhaustion. "Jareth, you promised."
"I know, I know." Jareth replied quickly, raising his hands in mock surrender. "I did, and I meant it. But Sarah, I hope you know you don't have to keep carrying this alone…"
"I know," Sarah responded quickly before he could go further in his thoughts. "And I promised, too. I promised when the time was right, I would tell you." Sarah cupped his face in her hands in return. "Please," she implored, "trust me."
Jareth's eyes burn with intensity and sincerity.
"Always," he replied.
The sounds of the massive doors to the library opened, signaling the return of Sarah's maids. Sarah and Jareth jumped apart like naughty teenagers, and Jareth quickly pecked her on the lips and winked at her with a leer before whispering, "The closet tonight?"
Sarah grinned from ear to ear.
"Anything for you, my king."
