Ch. 21 Bad Moon Rising
Author's Note: Wow…sorry for the huge delay in updating. My muse went missing, the family has been ill, work has been nuts, I'm job hunting again…the usual chaos. I think I've finally wrestled my muse back into visiting me more frequently. As I have several stories that I love going at the same time, there is no rhyme or reason to when any will get updated, as I have to go where my muse takes me (and she can be a finicky thing at times). I'm thinking there will be another chapter of this story before Easter, before I may return to the Christmas one (which was supposed to be short and done before Christmas – at this rate I'll finish it for NEXT Christmas). Oh well… such is the lot of a writer's life! I'm also completely reworking 'The Thirteenth Rider' into a trilogy to pitch to a publishing company…so…yeah…there's that.
As always, please review…they inspire me to write faster
Relaxing on the balcony railing of his rooms at the manor, Jareth leaned casually against the stones watching the Halloween sun sink lower behind the trees, the deepening orange glow shimmering against the crystal at the center of the miniature Labyrinth in the back garden. He could hear the final preparations for the costume ball being made downstairs, as caterers and event staff bustled about inside the manor and out. The back garden was dotted with pavilions lit with white and orange lights, under which sat tables and chairs for guests. Inside the house the ballroom was decorated in a manor that would make any ghoul proud, in fact the whole lower floor had been transformed into a haunted mansion, complete with cobwebs and ghostly movement of furniture – guests didn't need to know it was goblins and sprites moving the furniture and giving ghostly 'tugs' upon their clothing.
As much as he disliked the fuss that went along with hosting a village-wide party in the manor, it was customary for his family to host just such an affair the Friday before Halloween each year – Samhain by the old rites. Glancing down onto the back balustrade, Jareth smiled at seeing his parents walking arm in arm down the marble steps, before setting out upon the crushed stone path into the 'fairy bower' part of the garden. For as long as he could remember (which was a considerable number of years) his parents had been the same thing for every Halloween party at the manor – Titania and Oberon.
Each year they found it quite amusing to dress as their namesakes from the Shakespearean plays, despite the fact that Will himself had apologized profusely over the centuries for describing them in such a way. Titania shimmered in a light silken gauze dress in shades of purple which seemed to change color depending upon how one looked at it. Her hair was twisted up with jewels and flowers, then topped with a finely wrought, Elven gold tiara. His father however was a bit more sedate – but only just - dressed in pure white which sparkled with each movement, a white dragon-hide breastplate cinched around his chest, with golden accoutrements. Rather than the usual short hair and beard he wore when Above, his hair was its proper length, hanging to his waist and plaited with strands of golden thread. His beard too hung low, plaited into twists with gold strands peeking in and out of them. While their costuming was immaculate, it was the delicately fluttering wings upon their backs that seemed to entrance the visitors to the manor. As they moved, the gossamer wings shifted just enough to show off the shifting shades of blue, pink, purple and green that flowed over them as if a liquid.
He watched with a warm smile as a small bundle came rocketing out of the house and down the stairs after them. Auberon spun, catching the small boy in mid-run and swinging him up into his arms, as the lad gave the sort of exuberant squeal only small children can give. While Jareth missed the child during his exile from the manor, he was happy that the boy had taken so easily to his parents – and they to him. Even Sarah had come to be comfortable with his parents over the two weeks since her first l'hrev cycle reared its head.
As far as Jareth knew, Sarah must have been using the crystaline gift he left her when speaking to her about the effect of l'hrev and desire upon the Fae, because the overpowering need that had haunted him for days had abated following their chat. He would still feel the sensation of desire build during the day as he went about his tasks both in the Underground and Above, but soon after he ended their crystal communication each evening at 9:30, the desire would end – granted, just prior to that time the sensation would roar through him as he felt her seek pleasure and was unable to fully staunch the familial link. There were evenings that he had to fight to restrain himself rather than going to her and claiming her properly. Although the bond was weak, it seemed to have a lasting hold on the two of them, ensuring that he felt every bit of her desire and the resultant pleasure, as he were personally there to give it to her. In the end, it was far easier to have his evening chat with Sarah while he was in his bedroom, so that he might enjoy the sensations and the inevitable release that always followed their chats. After days of being unable to find release on his own, he was more than happy to enjoy the release that his gift seemed to be giving her – even though he could no longer see or hear her dreams and fantasies – an unfortunate side effect of the enchantment he placed on the gift. He felt enough of her desires as it was, he didn't need to be able to see them as well.
When Sarah's moon cycle ended, his mother and Maeve decided to gradually reintroduce Jareth to the household, first for a short lunch, then dinner, then longer visits. Within a week he found himself at the manor most evenings, and was back to continuing Sarah's lessons on Fae culture. In truth, he was relieved. Although he knew there was a compelling reason to stay away from Sarah, he was concerned. Since the night of the attack, he had spoken to the boy and learned all he could about the man claiming to be the 'Goblin King'. From the descriptions the boy gave, Jareth was nearly certain that the Fae who had claimed the poor lad was Rayven. The knowledge that Rayven was still out there and had made one attack against Sarah, struck deeply at a part of Jareth that was clinging to the bond. He wanted nothing more than to protect her, and see Rayven disentigrate into a pile of smouldering ash if he should so much as look at his Sarah again.
His hands curled into fists against his thighs at the thought of Rayvn, teeth clenching in a feral growl.
"Um…yer majesty?"
Jareth sighed, his hands relaxing as he turned his attention to the mirror above the fireplace. "Yes, Hogspittle?"
"Sorry ta bother ya, yer majesty, but some of the castle goblins got into the Samhain mead a bit early and they're trying to get into the portal room to go above and cause a ruckus," Hoggle said, twisting his faded red wool cap in his hands. "Ludo is barricading the door, and Didymus is trying to get them back into the throne room, but…well… there's really too many of them, Sire."
With an irritated frown, Jareth rose from his perch on the balcony and strode toward the mirror. "Can't I leave you lot in charge for a few hours without you letting the goblins run amuck?" he snapped, smirking at the way Hoggle cringed. "Fine, I'll come and sort the little cretins out," he growled, casting another look out the windows. Seeing that his parents had everything at the manor well in hand, Jareth pulled a sparkling crystal from the air and dropped it at his feet, vanishing in a haze of golden flecks.
~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~
"Your costume really is perfect for you, but if you don't sit still I'll never get your horns on straight," Sarah laughed, trying once more to fit the second horn into the twists of Angel's dark hair that were piled high on her head, wisps of burgundy and purple sticking out wildly amongst the plaits of black curls.
"I dunno, I think crooked horns would be kind of fitting for me," Angel chirped, while adding another coat of glossy black lipstick to her already dark lips. When Sarah had finally secured the second horn, Angel hopped up, smoothing the short black and plaid skirt over the black tutu under it, then fluffing the crinoline puffs of the tutu up to make the skirt puff out.
Pursing her lips, Sarah surveyed her friend's ripped red and black fishnet stockings, platform knee high boots and black corset cinched tight over crimson lace shirt. She had to admit, it did suit Angel. The whole ensemble was topped off with red and black swirled horns that curled slightly up from her head, and a black leather collar locked around Angel's neck. "I mean… I love your costume, but aren't you going to be embarrassed hanging out with the crème d'la crème of high society dressed like a goth hooker demon-thing?"
Angel shrugged and added a bit more red eye shadow, "Nope. It's not like I run in their circle usually. Besides, the Rex family usually relegates the teens to the media room, game room and the labyrinth in the garden, so it isn't like anyone besides the kids from school and the village will see me. Besides, you are hardly one to talk in that get up, Ms. Sexy Fairy."
Blushing slightly, Sarah spun in front of the mirror. Titiania had offered to create any costume Sarah wanted, only to be rebuffed by Sarah who explained that she liked to sew and would make it herself. And make it she did. Everything from the sparkling wings, to the corset covered in silk and satin flowers. She had even researched servo-motors and figured out how to make her wings flutter and glow. Hitting the small button built into the twisted vines she wore as a belt, Sarah grinned as her wings gave a flutter, making the pale pink and purple sparkles shimmer in the light of her room.
"You really should have let me dye your hair purple for tonight," Angel said, not noticing the way Sarah's cheeks flushed further. "It would have matched your dress better."
Sarah shook her head and adjusted the her wig. "No… Gareth is pretty strict on that sort of thing," Sarah said, the short bobbed wig a veil of many layers from violet to lavender. Sarah only hoped that the ombre wig wouldn't get her in too much trouble with Jareth – although part of her was more than willing to accept the consequences of taunting him with purple hair once more. Sitting gingerly on the sofa, she pulled on the sparkling purple heels, then gave an experimental sashay around her sitting room. "How do I look?"
Angel grinned, "Well, I have a bit of a girl crush on you, so… yeah…you should make Sexy Rexy drool like a starving man."
At that Sarah's blush deepened. "Knock it off, Angel. I've asked you not to call him that."
Ignoring her, Angel hopped up and added a bit more purple glitter to Sarah's eyes and hair, "Protest all you want. But something has changed between you two, even if you haven't given me all the dirty details."
Sarah smiled, her fingers lightly running across the shimmering crystal that was still fastened around her neck. "There's nothing to tell. We've just…come to an understanding of sorts. That's all. Nothing else."
"Hah! Tell yourself that all you want, but I don't believe it for a second," Angel said, then grabbed Sarah's hand. "Come on, let's get down to the party, I want to see what costume Sexy Rexy trots out this year."
"I don't even know if he's going to be here," Sarah said, pulling her parlor door shut as the two made their way toward the lower level of the house. "He's spent most of the week in London except for dinner. The last I heard he was going to the US for a few days."
Angel frowned slightly, then gave her friend a quick hug, "Bummer. I've haven't seen him in costume since I was 10 and he made a big impression then - he was a fallen angel, complete with feathered black and red wings. I mean his parents are always the same thing – Titiania and Oberon from A Midsummer Night's Dream."
Sarah choked slightly hearing that, unable to keep the smirk from curling the corners of her mouth. "Really?"
"Oh yes…and their costumes are glorious! Not as cool as Rexy dressed as Lucifer, but still…pretty epic." Angel nodded, pulling Sarah toward the stairs, the sound of the party getting louder the closer they got to the lower floor. "I heard that last year he was just wearing tight grey pants, knee high leather boots and this really funky leather jacket with asymmetrical bits on it and this outrageously huge collar. Sounds weird, but sexy in a kinda…I dunno… wanna be cornered by him sort of way."
At that Sarah spluttered and blushed, feeling her heart thumping erratically in her chest.
"You okay duckie?" Angel asked, thumping Sarah on the back carefully to avoid the fluttering wings.
"Yeah just…um…let's get down to the party," she said with a cough, while her mind whirled frantically at the idea of seeing Jareth in the outfit she recognized as what he wore when he had indeed cornered her in the tunnels.
~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~
The downstairs entry hall of the manor was filled with people of all ages in a variety of costumes, from simple to incredibly elaborate. As Sarah and Angel descended the main stairs, Sarah glanced around, smiling when she saw Titiana and Auberon near the door greeting guests, with Toby in Auberon's arms, happily shouting "Happy Samhain" to the people entering the house. With her wings fluttering gently, Sarah led Angel up to Jareth's parents.
"Good evening," Sarah said, stopping near them.
Titiania turned and smiled warmly, holding her arms out to hug the girl. "You look lovely, my dear. And you made this yourself?" the older woman asked, turning Sarah around to examine the lovely dress of layered silk and gauze, which lay curved over Sarah's hips and bum like a downward lilac flower. Seeing Sarah's wings gently fluttering, Titiania cooed and clapped her hands. "Oh my…Auberon…look at her wings. Aren't they cunning?!" she exclaimed, as Auberon bent and kissed the girl's cheek.
"You are a vision, Sarah dear. You could easily be one of the fairy court," he said with a sly wink that made her blush again.
"Thank you, that is quite the compliment coming from the High King himself," Sarah grinned, pulling Angel forward. "You remember my friend, Angel."
Titania smiled and nodded, "Hello, Angel dear. I'm glad you could make it to the party."
"Are you kidding? I wouldn't miss a chance to hang out here with Sarah. Besides, you always through the nicest parties," Angel grinned.
"Darling, we really must introduce Angel to Mab," Auberon chuckled, reaching out and lightly touching one of Angel's horns. "The old witch would likely take this little demon under her wing."
Titania rolled her eyes and playfully slapped her husband's hand away from Angel's horns, "And that would only end up with Angel in trouble or turning into another Mab. And really my love, one Mab is more than enough in any plane of existence."
Giggling, Angel let Sarah lead her away, shaking her head, "Man, they really get into character for this thing. Mab? Auberon? Titania? Next thing you know they'll be saying Puck is lurking about!"
A slender red haired man turned toward them from his conversation, his brown eyes shining mischievously under steeply angled eyebrows, "And who might be taking the name of Puck in vain?" he asked in a thick Welsh accent. Sarah bit her lip as she realized with some certainty that this fellow was most likely the real Puck, and from the looks of things, he wasn't wearing a costume. His legs were the furry legs of a faun, while his upper body was bare, except for a golden harness arrangement which bore the unicorn crest that identified the royal family. From his forehead sprouted two curled horns. Despite the furry legs and horns, Sarah felt a momentary pang of desire, and shook her head to free herself from it. Clearly Puck had some Fae in his lineage. Seeing the glazed expression that had slid into Angel's eyes, Sarah sighed and glared at Puck. "Away with you, wayward sprite. Go deal your mischief to someone else," she grumbled, fingering the crystal at her throat.
Smirking, Puck leaned in more closely, his voice dropping so that it faded from the hearing of the humans in the crowded foyer, but carried quite clearly to the changeling dressed as a garden fairy. "Aye, little changeling…I see thee art marked and know he who holds the claim over you.
Sarah's eyes narrowed as she glared at the faun, "I have no claim on me."
She felt him lean even closer, then subtly sniff her hair, a low rumbling laugh reverberating in his chest. "Pretty peach, while a body may be claimed, so can one's heart and soul. Like it or not, your heart and soul are claimed, by the one who longs to claim the rest of you. And since I feel his magic tainting you from without, I'd wager you have claimed his heart and soul as well. All that's left is the fun part," he chuckled, then disappeared into the crowd, an enthralled blonde on his arm.
Angel blinked blearily and looked at Sarah, her hazel eyes troubled. With a reassuring smile, Sarah took her arm, "Come on, Angel…there's too many adults in here, let's go find some food and check out what's going on in the media room."
~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~
The Halloween Ball was well underway before Jareth had finished dealing with the drunk goblin horde, having given up any hope of a peaceful resolution and merely banished the lot of them to sleep it off in a leaky oubliette under the bog. Brushing dust from his breastplate, he slipped through the portal back to the manor, the heavy leather of his Goblin regalia cloak creaking softly around his legs. As the clock struck 11, he made his way down the stairs into the ballroom, his pale eyes sharp while he scanned the crowd for Sarah.
"The one you seek is not here, Princeling," laughed the red-haired faun from his seat at the bottom of the ballroom stairs, a scantily clad blonde sitting upon his lap, her arm draped around his shoulder as she nuzzled his ear.
Jareth's eyes narrowed, a muscle ticking in his jaw at the sight. "I don't recall inviting you, Puck."
"I'm here at your Father's request, besides…you know how I love the Halloween festivities Aboveground," Puck chuckled, teasing his finger over the collarbone of the blonde and making her giggle. "So many sweet things about, just ripe for the taking."
"Does Father know you are bespelling mortals to fulfill your debauched desires?" Jareth growled, growing more irritated with the faun by the moment. "There are rules, Puck."
Puck merely shrugged, still caressing the woman's neck while she purred and cooed. "Appearances may be deceiving, Highness…you of all people should know that. This particular mortal is bespelled by nothing more than drink and the suggestion of a lively roll in the hay. It is hardly my fault that she is so easily swayed."
"Sprite, you're taking liberties," said Auberon, strolling up behind Puck with Titania on his arm, his own pale grey eyes narrowing angrily at the faun.
Titania snapped her fingers and one of her ladies seemed to materialize from the ether, unseen by mortal eyes. "Serina, please see that this young woman makes her way home… safely and unmolested by our dear Puck." The woman nodded her head, a shimmering fall of pale blue hair slipping across her face. Gently she took the blonde's hand and guided her away toward the back of the house, while Puck pouted.
"Tis not my fault that mortals can't hold their drink," Puck grumbled, his voice tinged with petulance, although he dared not lift his eyes to his Master's.
"Not when you've slipped them something more potent than the mortal spirits served here," snapped Jareth, his cloak shifting around him. The anger he felt fed his magic, causing it to flare. Oblivious to the presence of magic in the air, the mortals dancing nearby became more fervent in their movements, as the magic affected them without their understanding.
Puck merely laughed, his merry eyes dancing at the spectacle of Jareth's out-of-control magic. "Speak truth, fair prince… 'tis not my taking liberties with a mortal wench that you object to, but the fear that I might entice your precious Sarah into sampling my charms."
The aura around Jareth snapped and crackled menacingly as he took a step toward Puck. "Father's henchman you may be, but I want you gone."
Puck rose and laughed, "Fine, I'll happily go, young prince…. But banishing me from your manor won't change the fact that you hunger for a sweet peach that you are forbidden yet to taste."
Snarling now, Jareth pulled a crystal from the air, only to see the faun vanish into a mist, the mortals around them blind to what had happened. Still irritated, Jareth turned to leave the ballroom in search of Sarah, only to be stopped by a man dressed in an elaborate Venitian masquerade costume. Removing his mask, the man smiled, nudging a shock of dull grey-blonde hair from his forehead.
"Good evening, Gareth. It's been awhile," the man said, then nodded in greeting at Titania and Auberon. "Lovely party as always."
The air around the three Fae seemed to shimmer for a split second as their Fae nature was glamoured once more, the interloper seeing only Gareth Rex and his parents. Pushing his anger at Puck's words down, Jareth forced himself to smile at the man. "James. Nice to see you again. I assume the affairs of the country and Crown are in good order since you are away from your berth in Parliament for the weekend?" he said, giving a quiet laugh.
The man smiled more broadly at that, bobbing his head. "Indeed… I am escorting my daughter Marcy this year, as my darling wife is indisposed," he said, taking the hand of a young woman next to him. Jareth groaned inwardly when she stepped forward, fluttering her eye lashes in a way he was sure she thought was attractive. As if it wasn't bad enough having half the court in the Crystal Kingdom trying to interest him in their loathsome daughters, from the look of things he now he had people Above attempting the same thing. It was insulting really – whether Gareth Rex or the Goblin King, Jareth was more than capable of finding his own female companions. He had never been at a loss for female company before, the only difference was that now there was only one woman he wanted – and the girl standing before him in the short red dress covered in golden hearts, was certainly not her.
"Ahh…the Queen of Hearts, I presume," Jareth said, plastering a smile upon his face, one which judging by the tittering coo of the girl before him, had clearly been taken to be genuine. Mentally cringing at what he was about to do, Jareth took the girls hand and gently brushed his lips against her knuckles in the barest of kisses. "Would you care to dance?"
To the people around them the gesture was innocent enough, but the moment his lips touched her flesh, the remains of the bond inside him howled indignantly, sending a sharp jolt of pain racing up his spine. Only his parents knew of his pain, Titania's grip on her husband's arm tightening as the pain edged through their familiar bond.
"I'd love to," Marcy purred, taking Jareth's arm and letting him lead her onto the dance floor.
Turning her, Jareth took her hand in his, his other hand resting as lightly against her back as he could. He wanted to find Sarah, which meant escaping both the odious politician James Kent and his daughter. Given the choice between being trapped discussing political movements in a kingdom that was not his own, or dancing with the vapid daughter of the Labour Leader, the answer was easy – dance. As he maneuvered her around the packed dance floor, his eyes scanned the other dancers searching for Sarah, it was only when he felt the girl grind her hips lasciviously against his that he bothered to look at her again, distaste wrinkling his nose.
"Just what are you doing?" he demanded, his tone restrained despite his rising anger at the girl.
"It isn't what I am doing, but what I would do," Marcy purred, tilting her head in an attempt to look sultry, a look which only succeeded in turning Jareth's stomach.
"And just what is that?" growled Jareth, fighting the urge to stop in the middle of the dance floor while he cursed the fact that propriety and his Aboveground image forbade him from making a public spectacle of her.
The girl leaned in, cooing in his ear, "Anything you want…."
Blinking in disbelief, Jareth laughed, the sound seeming to confuse her. "So that is your father's game? Get his daughter to seduce the most powerful man in England, then what…cry rape? Or is blackmail more his style?"
Marcy merely shook her head and smiled, "No. Father isn't my concern. This is just for me."
Jareth peered around the room, his lips curling in a dark smile at seeing his parents still trapped in talking to the ridiculous girl's father. With their attention elsewhere, he let the glamour hiding his true nature shift a bit, the air around him shimmering briefly with a pale green hue. "So tell me, wench…just what is it you seek to achieve?" he purred back, his voice seeming to whisper inside her skull, making her heart race and her mind cloud. Knowing that the slight glimpse of his true nature, combined with his position as the King of Dreams and the powers unique to that position, would compel her to tell him deepest, darkest desires, he danced her toward the door to the balcony.
"Power," the girl murmured, grinding herself tighter against Jareth's body in a way that made him long to bog her. "As your wife I'd have more power than anyone, even father. Even as your mistress I'd have power and status."
With a small glimpse of his true nature still visible to the hapless girl, Jareth's eyes flickered from pale blue to red, making her gasp and rub wantonly against him in response. "And what would you do for such…power?" he purred.
"Anything… everything….I'd…be your slave," she moaned back.
"Believe me, slut…the things you've done with your 'boys' are nothing compared to I would do to a true sexual slave of my own," he snarled, then spun her against the stone wall on the balcony outside the ballroom. Jareth stopped with the two of them hidden from view by a large column. Pinning her against the stones of the house, the Goblin King ignored the way she whined when the edges of the stone bit into her skin, the pain easing the pall that his magic had cast upon her mind. "I'm afraid I'll have to decline your proposition little girl. You see I have no need for the well-used 'goods' you have on offer. Go peddle them elsewhere," he snapped. Backing away from the girl, he spun on his heel, the leather cloak slapping against her bare legs as he turned.
"Wh…what?! No one's ever…You…you can't just…" she stammered, her eyes wide in surprise.
"I can…and did, girl," he hissed, turning to face her, his hands on his hips, while his pale eyes narrowed upon the girl expectantly.
Straightening up, Marcy glared at him, a cruel smirk twisting the corners of her mouth. "Oh…I get it. You're fucking Sarah. I knew it! I knew she wasn't…."
Before she could finish the thought, Jareth hand her pinned against the stones, hard enough that the sharp edges cut into the material of her dress. "I suggest you bite your tongue, silly girl. There are far worse things in this world than you have seen, and I would be more than happy to see that you experience them first hand if you breathe a word of that lie to anyone." Only when the girl gulped, with tears shining in her eyes did he release her. "Now…get out of my sight, girl. And don't ever come near me again."
Fixing her dress, Marcy turned toward the door into the ballroom, only to be stopped as Jareth snarled from the shadows, "Oh and Marcy…if you should cause any problems for Sarah, you will regret it…every day… for the rest of your miserable life."
~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~
Marcy's face pinched with anger as she turned to scream at him, then stopped, her mouth still open in preparation for her tirade – the balcony was empty. Still fussing with her costume she walked back toward the doors of the ballroom, her blood roiling through her veins at being dismissed so coldly by him. She peered into the ballroom and growled, seeing that Gareth Rex was now dancing with his mother, a warm smile on his face as the two of them laughed.
"How dare he laugh at me. Doesn't he know what I could do to him? All I'd have to do is cry rape – Hell…just saying he made lewd suggestions and groped me while dancing would be enough to hurt him," Marcy chuckled as she plotted how to exact her revenge, her heels striking dully on the stones of the marble stairs leading down to the back garden. She walked without thinking, her thoughts taken up by her interaction with Gareth Rex and his outright rejection of her offer."Stuck up bastard," she muttered to herself, "He probably can't even get it up." Smiling at that thought, she sneered, sure that was the reason. "Yeah…that's why and why he got so angry," too she reasoned. "There's no way he'd turn me down unless…." Marcy paused, a frown creasing her face as her thoughts continued to run. "…Unless he was fucking someone else. But who… no one has been linked with him since that Somali model in New York years ago…" she mumbled to herself, the growled, her eyes darkening with rage. "Sarah! That fucking little slut! He lied! It's not enough that she's after my boyfriend, but she's fucking Gareth Rex too." Hearing laughter near the hedge maze at the center of the back garden, Marcy looked up to see Angel and Sarah laughing as they ran toward the maze. Watching Sarah, Marcy couldn't imagine her throes of passion with anyone, let alone the formerly notorious playboy, Gareth Rex. "Maybe he isn't screwing her, but just wants to. I bet the frigid bitch told him no," she sneered, her feet crunching into the crushed shells that lined the garden path leading to the maze. "So all I have to do is convince him that she isn't worth the effort. That his 'pure' little darling isn't so damn pure."
The sound of someone running up the path cut into the laughter of the girls. Marcy darted into the shadows of the nearby gazebo, ignoring the two teenagers draped over a stone bench in the back, attempting to check each other's tonsils with their tongues. Without a sound she peeked around the edge of the gazebo door. A boy dressed like a 1950s greaser was running up the path, the slapping of his tennis shoes sending crushed shell fragments flying behind him. Seeing Angus, Marcy smiled. She had thought her attempts to get his interest had been thwarted when he asked Sarah to the movies, but since she took ill after the date, the two of them had been cool to each other – cool enough that Marcy had been able to work her magic on him. Slipping from the shadows she answered his wave with one of her own, only to snarl when he called out.
"Hey Sarah! Wait for me!" he called, waving at the girls running toward the maze.
Loathing flooded Marcy as she watched him catch up with the girls, wrapping his arm around both of them. "Come on, we'll race…me and Sarah against Angel…first to the center as to…." He laughed.
"Streak on their way out of the maze?" suggested Angel with a laugh.
Sarah squeaked indignantly and blushed, "No! Gareth would kill us! So would his parents."
"Come on…what's life without a bit of fun and danger," Angus said, grabbing her hand and tugging her toward the entrance of the maze, while a giggling Angel ran into the second entrance, her voice drifting back into the garden.
"Live a little, Sarah!" Angel yelled, while Angus led Sarah into the second entry into the maze, a laughing goblin statue hanging over the archway as if watching them.
Marcy's gaze narrowed as she watched him hook his arm around the Sarah, ignoring the way she pulled back and shook her head, before he finally succeeded in getting her to go into the maze, the sound of Sarah's laughter drifting back to her.
"You bitch. I will make your life Hell," she hissed. A wicked smirk pulled at her lips as she turned and marched back toward the house. With just a few choice words she could exact revenge on Sarah and Gareth at the same time. "Wishes do come true," she chuckled softly, looking to see the lights of the ballroom spilling softly onto the back patio of the manor house, the sound of laughter and music floating on the air.
~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~
Jareth looked out over the dancers bouncing and jostling on the dance floor and smiled. The Halloween ball was far smaller than the usual parties he attended in the Underground, but in many ways it was far preferable – for one thing he had no 'official' duties to attend to. The only thing he really wanted was to dance with Sarah, but he had yet to find her. After having been assured by Titania that Sarah was fine and likely in the media room with the other teens, Jareth relaxed a bit and began to actually enjoy the party. As usual, his parents had spared nothing in ensuring that the village and special guests from London had a wonderful time. With a glass of champagne in hand, Jareth had mingled freely, chatting with his more valued London guests, as well as the few Underground expatriates who had been invited. When the clock neared midnight, he slowly wound his way through the crowd toward the doors leading out onto the patio.
Slipping outside, Jareth sighed and relaxed a bit further, letting the comfortable fall temperature engulf him, until the sound of Marcy Kent drifted to his ears. With a growl, he let himself fade into the shadows and hoped the girl wasn't silly enough to follow him. When she got closer, he heard what sounded suspiciously like tears as she talked to someone.
"Blast…I hope the silly twit isn't telling anyone about what transpired earlier," he mused to himself. "The glimpse of my nature should have dulled her memory of it."
"It was awful Jennifer," Marcy sniffed, dabbing at her eyes. "I followed Angus out to the maze thinking I'd surprise him and I saw that horrible slut, Sarah Williams with him in a secluded corner. And…oh… I can't stand even thinking about what they were doing!"
"What?" asked the vapid blonde at her side.
"Fucking," sobbed Marcy, her voice carrying clearly over the balcony so that everyone still standing about could hear her. "Sarah was there, with her skirt hiked up, fucking him like the whore she is. I can't believe Gareth has opened his home to her and she's abused his charity this way," the girl continued to cry.
Heat suffused Jareth at the mental image of Sarah doing such a thing with anyone but himself. He watched as the girls moved back into the ballroom, his pale eyes dark with fury. "How can she bear to do that with anyone. Just kissing that blasted girl's hand resulted in pain for me?" he snarled, then felt his heart tighten at the realization that there was only one way that Sarah would be able to bear the touch of another – her bond was gone, which meant that Jareth's would soon fade entirely as well.
Fighting to retain control of his emotions and magic, Jareth closed his eyes, concentrating on the familial thread that linked him to Sarah. For the first time since she entered l'hrev, he gradually eased the link open, letting her emotions spill through it, while bracing himself to feel passion and desire. Instead of the expected scent and feel sexual need, he let the link open fully and nearly gagged on the taste of bitter ash that filled his mouth, while a sour scent swirled around him.
Anger…and fear. But no passion.
Curious now, Jareth let the shadows engulf him, until all that was left was the faint shine of glitter upon the air, his body reappearing in the shadows of the backyard Labyrinth. Hidden in the shadows of a dead end, he saw a teenaged boy in a leather jacket, pinning Sarah to the hedge wall of the maze.
"Come on, Sarah," the boy purred, while Sarah's gaze darted about looking for an escape. As she moved to the right, the boy countered, pressing his weight upon her. "Just a kiss. That's all I want… for now anyway," he laughed, trying to kiss her as she turned her head away again. "Y'know everyone thinks you're a stuck up bitch. Don't you want them to know you can actually be fun?"
"If screwing you is what it will take for them to think I'm fun, then forget it! I'd rather be boring," Sarah snapped, her anger overpowering the tinge of fear Jareth had initially felt from her.
Jareth could feel her anger rise through the familial link and smiled to himself, seeing small flashes of red shimmering here and there around her, her own fledgling magic starting to make itself known with her rage. Smirking to himself, Jareth elected to let Sarah handle the boy's advances, seeing as she was clearly in no immediate danger. He shook his head in wonder as the stupid boy tried once more to kiss Sarah, while his hand clumsily groped her breast through the thing material.
"I SAID NO!," Sarah roared, the timbre of her voice seeming to vibrate in the now enclosed dead end, as the garden maze responded to her innate magic and the power behind her words, her link to the Labyrinth also linking her to this small Aboveground portion of its. Rearing back, she brought her knee up hard into the boy's groin.
Seeing the boy double over in pain, it was all Jareth could do not to laugh, while marveling at the way she managed to take care of herself. All around the three of them, the maze seemed to come alive, as branches began to lengthen and reach for the boy. Tendrils of vines wrapped around his ankles, jerking him to the ground as they began to pull him toward the portal that had opened itself under the stone bench nearby.
"Hey! What the Hell?!" the boy yelped, trying to kick the vines loose, only to squeak when sharp branches snatched at his head and arms, leaving bleeding scratches upon his flesh.
Looking around in a panic, Sarah moaned, "Stop…no…come on…please…."
Jareth watched as the Labyrinth continued its attempt to avenge the Champion, heedless of the fact that she did not need the assistance. "Stop!" she shrieked, her eyes glassing over with tears, as she tried in vain to pull the vines from the boy's legs, which were now nearly pulled into the portal – a portal which Jareth suspected led to the deepest catacombs under the Labyrinth.
Sweeping from the shadows, Jareth gestured at the portal and the vines, "Desist!" he demanded, his voice seeming to reverberate with power, until the very stones under their feet felt as if they were trying to cringe away from him.
With a startled gasp of "Jareth!", Sarah whirled around to see Jareth standing in the enclosed alcove of the maze, his Goblin regalia shimmering with shades of black and blue in the moonlight. At his order, the vines and branches slowly retracted into the walls of the hedge maze, freeing the boy who turned onto his stomach and scrabbled away from the hedges and the closing portal.
"While your assistance was admirable and well-timed, it is clearly not needed," Jareth continued, lightly running his hand over a bit of the hedge wall, which quivered under his caress. Then he gave the boy a wicked smile and with a flick of his hand tossed a glowing red crystal at the cowering teen, chuckling darkly when he vanished in a haze of red glitter which then faded to nothing.
Frowning, Sarah straightened the skirt of her costume."Tell me you didn't just bog him, Jareth," she demanded, adjusting the flowers along the bust of her dress. "He may be an ass, but he doesn't deserve to be bogged."
"Rest assured, Sarah, that although I'd be well within my right as monarch to do so, I did not bog the boy. I merely altered his memory to understand that you are in no way interested in him, and dropped him at home. The most pain the boy will feel from his offense against my Champion is the magical hangover he'll have from the magic in your voice," Jareth said, tugging lightly at the leather glove covering his hand.
Sarah bit her lip, a pensive look stealing into her eyes. "Is that what made my voice sound all… I don't know… weird?"
Arching an elegant eyebrow, Jareth stalked nearer to her. "Indeed, that is the first of your magic making itself known, Precious. The Labyrinth has chosen it's defender wisely, although it would seem the Labyrinth is quite happy to defend you as well. I must say, seeing you handle him in such a manner was…enlightening, Sarah mine."
Shivering slightly at his words and the feral glint in his eyes, Sarah took a step back, finding herself pressed, not against the soft hedges of the maze, but against what was now a stone wall, which seemed to conform to the curves of her body and push forward, pressing her back toward Jareth. Sarah blushed at the realization that the maze must be connected to the real Labyrinth, which would explain both the fact that it had changed, but also its insistence in helping the Goblin King close in on her.
"Oh…stupid fucking Labyrinth," she muttered, as Jareth trapped her against the stone wall with his on either side of her shoulders. The shimmering insides of his cloak teased against her legs, seeming to stroke them in a sultry caress, yet it was when Jareth peered down at her with dark, hungry eyes, that she felt the heat rush to her belly and face simultaneously.
"Tsk...tsk. Language Sarah dear, unless you want me to put you over my knee, right here...and right now," he purred, relishing the way she trembled further, her cheeks flaming pink. "On the contrary, Sarah…the Labyrinth is anything but stupid, clearly," he laughed softly. With a wicked smile, he tilted his head and blinking owlishly as he surveyed her costume. "Mother said your costume was remarkable, and she was quite correct. Of course, she neglected to mention that your hair was a delightful rainbow of purple tones," he purred, enjoying the sudden flush of pink upon her cheeks and the burst of embarrassment, desire and oddly enough, hope, that rushed through the familial bond. "Now, the hair is sorted, the only thing missing is…my sigil or a collar," he said, letting his gaze wander down the lovely lines of her face and over the tender flesh of her throat as she trembled before him. As his eyes reached the bust of her dress, still askew from her struggle with the vines, Jareth paused. "But what is this?" he asked, leaning back a bit and lightly pushing a silk flower aside, revealing what appeared to be a small brand upon her breast – a maze of lines surrounding what was clearly the sigil of the Goblin King. "Ahh…but then, you do bear my mark," he purred, reaching out and moving the silk flower petal to get a better look at the mark.
Sarah gasped, unable to hold it in, as his gloved finger lightly grazed the mark, a sudden burst of pleasure cascading through the familial link, while the mated bond roared to life, making Jareth growl in response. Thoughtfully he looked at her, his tongue curling around the points of his canines. "Hmm… that's new," he chuckled, enjoying the slightly dazed look on Sarah's face as he lightly stroked the spot again, only to hear her whimper as her knees wobbled, forcing him to wrap his free arm around her back to hold her upright.
"St…stop…please…" she gasped, trying to will herself to push his hand away from the mark she had been so careful to hide when she created her costume. Feeling the warmth of his around her, she felt herself shifting further into his embrace, only to shiver with cold as he removed his hand and released her. She blinked at looked at him, torn between wanting the Earth to swallow her whole, and wanting his arm around her once more.
Watching her thoughtfully, Jareth backed up two steps, then dropped upon the stone bench, his movements controlled and leonine. Without warning he reached up and took her hand, gently tugging her toward the bench. "Sit, Precious…before you fall down," he ordered her, smiling warmly as she obeyed without protest for once, her shoulders covered in goosebumps. "Are you cold?"
Sarah shook her head, her answer belied by the shivering of her shoulders. Snapping his fingers, Jareth nodded as his feathered cloak appeared upon her, the warmth quickly sinking into her chilled skin. "Thanks," she mumbled, trying not to touch him as they sat side by side on the bench.
The two of them sat in silence for some time, with the sound of laughter and music echoing softly in the distance. Turning his head to look at her, Jareth finally spoke.
"Mother didn't mention that mark, Sarah. Have you been hiding things?" Jareth asked, tilting his head slightly as he looked at her, his eyes moving from the pink stain upon her cheeks to the mark she bore on her breast – a mark he did not put there, but one he knew on instinct was his.
Shaking her head once more, Sarah sighed, "No, she knows about it. She said it was a bond mark and it would fade when the bond had broken fully."
"I see, so it is Mother who is holding out on me. I must have stern words with that woman," Jareth chuckled. "So tell me, Precious, does it have that reaction when you touch it?" Seeing Sarah's blush deepen to crimson, Jareth's voice dropped to a sultry purr. "So it does have such a pleasurable reaction, and I am guessing that you rather enjoy that little 'benefit' of being bonded to me."
Feeling her face burn as hotly as the liquid pool deep within her core, Sarah dropped her head, unable to look him in the eye any longer.
"Remember, Sarah… for the Fae pleasure is a good thing," Jareth said gently. "There is no need to be sheepish or ashamed about using something that gives you pleasure, to your own advantage. I'm quite glad that you found something to bring you pleasure." Jareth watched her thoughtfully as she resolutely refused to look at him, then smiled. "I'd like to try something, if you would permit me to touch you once more… a little 'experiment' you might say."
Nibbling once more on her lip, Sarah hesitated a moment, before nodding. "Um…okay."
Jareth slowly peeled his glove off, then gently reached over and moved the silken flower petal away from the mark, his eyes locked on her face as she glanced up at him. Pausing, he waited for her to give a silent nod before lightly stroke his bare fingertip around the mark then over it. At the first touch of his skin to the mark, Sarah shuddered violently, her eyes falling shut as she moaned, a whirlwind of pleasure and desire roaring through the familial link as the mate bond engulfed them both in heat from the inside out. Surprised, Jareth pulled his hand back, while Sarah collapsed against the stones behind her, panting, her own hand covering the mark protectively, as the heat from the mate bond slowly dissipated.
"Fuck!" she panted, her green eyes wide in shock. "It's never felt like that when I've touched it!"
"As Alice once said… curioser and curioser...And I'll let that slip of the tongue go, for now," Jareth muttered, still watching the girl as she tried not to squirm on the bench, the scent of desire hanging heavily in the air around them, until Jareth couldn't be sure whether it all belonged to Sarah, or if he was contributing to it as well. Pulling his glove back on, Jareth stood up, moving as far away from Sarah as he could get within the confines of the now closed off dead-end within the maze
Sitting up once more, Sarah tugged at the top of her dress, adjusting the silk flowers to cover the mark once more, before she stopped and looked at him. "Jareth…what does it mean? I thought the bond was supposed to fail but this… Well, it certainly doesn't feel like it has failed or is going away."
"Indeed it doesn't," he murmured, his fingertip still tingling from the feel of the mark on her skin. "And, I'm afraid I don't know what it means, Precious. But I don't want you to mention this to anyone…even my Mother and Maeve. I want to research this a bit, without their meddling."
At the mention of their meddling Sarah wrinkled her nose and nodded. "Agreed. I don't particularly want your mum to follow through on her threat to confine me to her rooms at her castle, just when life has started to get back to what passes for normal around here."
Jareth lightly tapped the stones behind him, stepping back as a stone archway leading out of the maze appeared. "Now then, I think we had best rejoin the party before tongues begin wagging about the impropriety of us being alone in a darkened Labyrinth together," Jareth said, smiling warmly and holding his arm out to Sarah, who took it with a giggle.
"Well, it isn't the first time we've been in a darkened Labyrinth together, and somehow I doubt it will be the last time," she quipped, walking at his side toward the manor, while Jareth's mind whirled with all of the dark spots in the Labyrinth he'd willingly take her to… and in.
A/N: Thank you for all of the lovely reviews on this story. I'm so happy that so many people are still interested in it and enjoying it. I have plans for how this will go to the finish, but we are quite a ways out still... so hang on. I promise yummy smut soon enough.