Fourteen

Hope dangles on a string
Like slow spinning redemption
Winding in and winding out
The shine of it has caught my eye

And roped me in
So mesmerizing, so hypnotizing
I am captivated....

-"Vindicated" Dashboard Confessional

1

Something was poking her. Her body told her it was far too early for any sensible person to be up yet. Still the poking persisted. She grunted at it. Poke, poke, poke. Squirming she curled away from it, turning towards the opposite side of the bed. "Lady!" There were very few creatures in the castle that called her that. The blankets shifted and there was an added weight behind her. "Lady wake up!" Slowly opening her eyes she saw Meep leaning over her. "Wake up," the goblin insisted again poking her in the chest.

"What do you want?" She bit each word out distinctly. She had been having lovely dreams, scenarios involving Jareth and her kissing under a star lit sky.

"King wants you for an early breakfast," explained Meep.

Assessing the room Sarah realized just how early it was- the light was still a very dull grey. Her tired mind was not even beginning to comprehend what the goblin was telling her.

"He says come now before he comes in here. No one is up yet lady. Very safe."

Maybe she hadn't just dreamed about them kissing. Her tired mind began to wake up. No, she hadn't very well dreamed all of that. He had kissed her. Repeatedly. She sat up, her tired brain finally catching up. "Where am I to go Meep?"

"King's chambers." The goblin moved aside as Sarah began pushing back the covers.

"Is this such a good idea?" Sarah mused out loud. "What if someone sees me, us? Oh it could cause a mess."

Meep scratched her head perplexed. She certainly didn't see any issue. Both of them left the bed, moving towards her wardrobe. "Lady," she said as Sarah continued to fuss. "It is just breakfast. No one ever got mad over food save for Ursik the Mighty who saved the blessed turnip. Now calm down and let me help you with your dress."

2

He stood looking out the window. The night had passed with very little sleep. He had kissed Sarah! Now suddenly his bed was too large for just him self; now the night seemed wasted in sleep. Absently his own fingers touched his lips remembering the kiss. He could have pounced on her right then and there under the cold sky next to that tree. This morning he had risen early, the same time as his servants, and requested breakfast be brought up to his private study. It was one of the most secluded, private rooms in the castle. Very exclusive.

Moving away from the window he went into the wash room. He changed out of his night clothes and checked his hair in the mirror. Avoiding the halls, he willed his form to the study where he found Weech delivering the food her self, rolling in a small cart. "Mornin' sire," she greeted him with a smile. "One of your guards sends a message to you."

The pillows on his small couch weren't right. "Yes, yes, just leave it on the cart," he replied distracted with rearranging them.

"Anything else sire?"

"Dink is at his post? Good. Let me know the moment anyone stirs. Thank you Weech."

He took a deep breath, smelling the food and coffee, and then examined the room. This little morning encounter had to be special. After five years he wasn't going to risk loosing her again. He waved his hand at one of the windows and the curtains drew slightly back allowing some dim light in. He snapped his fingers towards the fire place- the flames responded, bursting forth a little brighter. Better.

When he heard the knock at the door he felt his heart thump excitedly. She came in wearing a simple blue gown with a green shawl wrapped around her shoulders. Her hair was down, framing her face. Suddenly the food seemed very unnecessary. She was a feast for his senses. How had he been controlling him self this past month? Closing the door he leaned against the frame, hovering over her. Shyly she smiled at him. "Good morning," she breathed.

He inclined his head. "Good morning. So glad you could arrive on such short notice."

"Having you poof in to my room hardly seemed appropriate. I couldn't refuse."

"Appropriate?" His eye brow rose up. "How bad can it be in your room now- a bed, blankets, you in a very soft night gown…"

"Precisely."

He held that eye brow up and then smirked. "I've seen you in far less Sarah." He kissed her, straightening up, pulling her against him.

Last night had definitely not been a dream. This fresh contact reminded her of how alive she had felt last night. Here in the very early hours, alone with him, she tried not think about anything else. She kissed him deeper. His touch matched his scent. The combination was what she had been searching after for five years. One of his hands was in her hair and she felt her body push against his closer. Her heart leapt at the intimate contact. Abruptly he pulled away. "Easy Sarah," he said half heartedly. Her eagerness surprised him. She had after all chastised him about being careful until things were smoothed over.

She breathed in and out- cinnamon and old books with just a trace of cloves. He was intoxicating. "Why? I want this."

He could feel her hands moving over his back. He smiled as he spoke, "Is it such a wise distraction? You continue to kiss me thus and my thoughts shall be less and less appropriate."

It surprised Sarah just how much she did in fact want this, him. "Five years, Jareth," she reminded him. "I got my self into this mess because of how much I wanted you. Besides," she brushed his lips with hers. "You did invite me here, so early, not a soul around."

His arguments were useless- he knew it. Hearing Sarah be so forth right was down right sexy though. "I invited you here to spend some quality time with you," he teased.

"Shut up Jareth," she whispered forcefully. "Five years has softened your libido."

A deep chuckle moved his chest. "Hardly!" He took two swift strides forward, pinning her against the door. The surprised expression across her face was delightful. "I've just been waiting, patiently for the right woman."

Right woman- her mind tried to wrap around that positively wonderful, meaningful phrase. Her sexual tension slipped for a moment, replaced with an oozing sense of adoration. "How long do we have?" she asked her eyes searching his face.

Was her breathing so shallow all ready? His lips turned up in a mischievous grin. "I'd say a good two hours before anyone meaningful is up."

"Good. Plenty of time."

He regarded her. "Hhhmm, for what exactly?"

"For…for our quality time. Must you keep talking?"

She liked the sound of his chuckle- it was tight and amused. "Forgive me- I'm rather auditorialy wired. This," he reached out touching her cheek. She shuddered. "This tension is perhaps the best foreplay I've ever experienced."

Ever- her mind picked that word out. How had it taken five years to reach this point? His hand was moving away from her cheek, sliding its way down over her throat. The movement caused her to breathe faster.

He was kissing her again- slight, feathery kisses that made her head spin. Her eyes closed, lost in the sensation. While he touched her, caressing her body, he asked her private, intimate questions. How much did she want this? Would she let him put his hand here or there? She answered. Whatever it took to ensure he wouldn't stop.

When the air breezed over her and she then felt her self falling backwards, she clutched the fabric of his shirt. He had moved them from the door, to the couch using his magic. Pillows and cushions supported her back. His face hidden against her neck, his body pressing against hers, he whispered, "Is this how you like it?"

She shook her head. The question did not sound right. "Wwwhat?"

His lips pulled on her ear lob. "Is this how you like it?"

That question was not right. Some one else had asked her that same question. She inhaled- cinnamon and old books. The scene flashed in her mind- the couch in the Aboveground room; the man parading as her professor; hands bruising her hips- he had asked the same question. The question had been a sneer. As if humans liked sex to be dirty, to be forceful. "Stop!" she yelled. Her hands had shoved against him, pushing as far she could reach. Her body twisted away from him. "Stop! Stop!" She was afraid. Terrified. Those words; those awful, awful words.

Jareth sat stunned for a moment. He moved as she continued to twist away from him. "Sarah?" he asked not comprehending her sudden change.

With an awkward thud she fell off the small couch. "No, no," she mumbled her voice choking.

"Sarah? Sarah whatever is it? I'm not going to hurt you."

They were both on the floor now. He was trying to subdue her. What had he done? What had he said? He managed to hold onto her wrists. "Let me go! I won't let it happen again!"

"What happen again?" A reason for her out burst occurred to him. "Sarah, it is me- Jareth. Look at me Sarah!" Using more excessive force than he was comfortable with, he held her back against the edge of the couch. Her eyes were spilling over with tears. "It's just me," his tone soft.

Her breathing came in giant heaves. She began to sob. "I…A memory…What you said….what you said triggered a memory." She threw herself against him, hiding her face. "He had said those same words right before…before he-,"

"Before he raped you," Jareth finished for her. He thought a long, rushed train of curses and expletives. "I am so sorry Sarah; I didn't know. I would never have said those words had I known."

"I know, I know," she assured him.

She felt him kiss her head. "We don't have to do this right now. We can stop right here. Is that what you need? Never mind about me, precious one. I will survive," he then added with a smile. He shifted looking at her face. The memory had caused her a good deal of pain. With a sigh he patted her back.

They ate breakfast quietly. Her out burst as the result of the memory had both embarrassed her and angered her. She had wanted that moment with Jareth. Wanted it badly. She wasn't going to feel vindicated though until her attacker was named and dealt with properly. She hoped Jareth understood this. Being intimate with him was going to take time.

When she left over an hour later he reminded her that he was still going to speak with Leslie Wimberly. "I want my plate clear so I can concentrate on you," he informed her. "It is time I live the life that I want." Left alone in his study he leaned against the door and sighed. A familiar sound, like a distant voice reached his ears. It had a calming effect. "Speaking to me again are you?" he asked the air. The voices of the Labyrinth made some pleased sound. He went to the window and parted the curtains to their full extent. The view of the land was vast and wide. "You've been very quiet for very long. Too long." The sound was almost like an apology; one made with a shrug. "What brings you out of hiding?" The reflection in the window bubbled as if turned to liquid. The image that appeared was of a man- Count Wimberly. The image faded to black. Count Wimberly was no more. When an image appeared again it was one of a young seedling, barely bursting forth from the soil. Jareth felt his brow knit together. What in the name of the Blessed Moon was the Labyrinth trying to tell him this time?