A/N: So obviously I'm having troubles with Wednesday posting. I think I'm going to aim for Thursday/Friday postings instead. As always, your reviews have tickled my day! Here we get to see what's happening inside Sarah's mind. There's a few screws loose there, so she not quite making the connections she should...
Chapter 25: Haunted
Sarah didn't know what to do with the Goblin King. She desperately needed some space to figure things out, but every time she tried to erect a barrier between them, he crashed through it with the focus of a swooping owl. He was not malicious or cruel as he broke through them, just single-minded. He was by far the most determined man she ever met. And he was not at all shy about his desire for her.
It had been startling the first time she realized he wanted her as a man wants a woman. Suddenly a lot of his actions made more sense, like the way he was always touching and kissing her. The problem was that she was not looking to jump into bed with him, no matter how much he did for her.
She had never been wanted as much as Jareth wanted her. In her old life, she had had mild flirtations before the world turned grey, but they never amounted to anything more than that. With Jareth, she knew exactly what he wanted. And yet, he was extremely honorable as he went about the process of seducing her. She would have to be blind and dead to not realize how incredibly sexy he was, but he didn't use to full force of his appeal on her.
She tried to gently let him down by maintaining space between them, but she hadn't realized how driven he could be. And yet, while he made it clear what he wanted, it was never a demand from him. He never pressured her. He earned her trust, even though she knew having him so close was a fool's errand. If she felt nothing when he touched her, it wouldn't have been a problem, but again, she was neither blind nor dead.
She had been raised to save herself for marriage, but she wasn't sure she could have stood against Jareth if he did everything in his power to take her to bed. But he didn't. He left no doubt about what he was after, but he always went so far, and no more. If he was just a cad trying to get her into bed, it would have been easier to resist him.
There were stories about creepy older men who gave gifts to young women for the purpose of luring them to give out sexual favors, but Jareth wasn't like that. Countless times when she asked him to back off, he did. It was always on his own terms, but if he sensed she was truly uncomfortable, he was quick to release her. The way he spent time with her was incredibly sweet, and his protective streak was both endearing and attractive. No one ever defended her so ardently before.
She owed him a lot. He allowed her to live in the Underground, as his honored guest. He chose her as his Heart, the full meaning of which she was still hazy about. She was trying to be the best Heart she could be, but no matter what she did, he viewed her efforts with an amused eye that told her she was not quite getting it right. He reunited her with her friends, gave her magic and riding lessons.
He was endlessly patient with her panics and the idiosyncrasies of her crippled mind. And he gave her Maple, who was quickly a loyal companion that was never far from her side. Merlin had to be put down a year after she came back from the Labyrinth, and she'd longed for another dog ever since. No one else had ever done so much for her, or would stick by her as much as he had.
In truth, she did feel obligated to Jareth, and guilty that she would not give him the one thing he wanted. And yet, he never pressed his advantages against her. He was careful not to make her feel physically trapped at any moment. When she refused him for the hundredth time, he didn't lose his temper and storm off, and nor did he list every reason she should give in to him. No, he merely made it clear he would not give up—and that he would also wait for her to be willing.
She did not understand it. He was putting in a lot of energy for what was essentially a one-night stand. He would not have interest in her beyond that. He was the Goblin King, this powerful, incredibly sexy being, and she was… not. He had chosen her to be his Heart but that was all but meaningless to her. She was not from this world, did not have an instinctive grasp of what was expected from her.
She supposed that mortals were unusual in the Underground, which might explain some of Jareth's interest. She was a curiosity to him. As his Heart, she was supposed to work closely with him to protect the Labyrinth. In the Aboveground, it sometimes happened that men and women who worked together became… attracted to each other, though workplace romances were hardly ever a good idea. It had also not escaped her attention that he had few other companions, and none of his own kind. And on Jareth's side, the attraction was purely physical.
Or not quite. He made it no secret that he found her physically appealing, but he spent too much time with her, gave her opinion too much weight, for him to be only interested in her body. It was so confusing! She could understand how being mortal might be briefly interesting to him. She could see how working together put her in his path when he was feeling lonely. But his kindness, his patience where she was concerned, that did not make sense. He should have been put off or even angered by her constant refusals.
It did not help that everyone in the Labyrinth assumed they were a couple, and he did not bother to correct them. There were times when he blatantly encouraged their belief! And because the Labyrinth was under siege, and she felt guilty for the information she had given the enemy, she was doing her best to help in any way she could. That meant presenting a united front with Jareth, for he made it clear that any division between them was a weakness the enemy would try to exploit.
The Goblin King was a harsh man. He was cruel. She could see it when he talked about trolls and ogres, or when his subjects disobeyed him. Despite that, there was no fear in his reign. He was respected, even if he did not invite intimacy from his people. But he invited it from her. So she made sure she was the friendly one. She had seen shock on more than once face when Jareth came for her, and the stern face he revealed to others melted into something much softer for her, and only for her.
It was as if he was looking for more than a one-night stand, or even a friends-with-benefits type of situation. It was as if he was looking for a true—
Pain lanced through her skull, and she dropped the earthenware cup she was holding. It shattered, splashing the lightly sweetened fairy-water she had been drinking.
"I'm sorry," she gasped, but before she could pick it up, she was swamped by goblins assuring her it was quite alright. Many small, magical hands cleaned her mess, and oh-so-reverently guided her to sit in a corner. She tried to protest, but the goblins would have none of it. Some of them had probably even gone to fetch Jareth already, as happened every time she so much as stubbed her toe. That was something else she couldn't get used to. Everyone treated her like royalty. Nothing was her fault, and she was barely allowed to do anything on her own. They acted like she was a delicate glass flower. Admittedly she had been weak as a kitten when she first arrived at the Labyrinth, but no one would believe that she was feeling much better.
She hung her head in her hands in shame. Maple sat by her feet, whined, and then began licking the fairy-water off her shoes, wagging his tail. She smiled at him. Maple at least was someone who didn't treat her like she was a princess. There was something to be said for the simple affections of a puppy.
"Sarah," a deep masculine voice said.
Terror lanced through her, and a scream lodged in her throat. That was the voice of her nightmares, the voice that had shrieked at her and caused such pain that it still dug claws into her head every time she heard it. Maple gave an uncertain growl at her distress. She jerked her head up and looked at Someone standing near her, an expression of concern on his face. She looked for his eyes frantically. Blue and brown, Jareth, safety, and guilt.
Yeah, this was something else she was keeping from the Goblin King. Physically, she was almost completely back to normal. Mentally… she didn't think she would ever heal. She gritted her teeth against a sob, but felt her eyes stinging with tears she tried to hold back. She was getting better at recognizing Jareth, but it required constant concentration on her part. When she was tired or distracted, every breath had the potential to morph Jareth back into the Someone who could be the other.
She hated that about herself. She knew Jareth was trying so hard not to remind her of the other. He changed the way he touched her, the way he spoke to her, looked at her, even the way he dressed. It felt like a giant betrayal that it still wasn't enough. That was yet another reason why, even if she wanted to sleep with Jareth, she wouldn't. Not for the panic that would rise up in her, but for his sake. He deserved someone that didn't scream every time they saw him. He deserved more than her broken self.
Unfortunately, he remained as determined to have her as always. Holding her eyes, he moved toward her until he could wrap his arms around her, which he did. One hand ran along her hair, and his thumb brushed her cheek. She felt more guilt. His desire to be close to her was simple, and easy to fulfill. She did not try to pull away from him. This was a small thing she could do for him, when she knew she would not give in to his larger, unspoken request. In truth, his touch was comforting, even if she felt she did not deserve it.
Since she was still sitting and he was standing over her, her head was just below his ribcage. She leaned her cheek on his middle, and felt his grip tighten on her. He loved any sort of contact between them, and was always hungry for more. Even though she knew she could never truly be with Jareth, her heart still jumped. He was warm, strong and gentle at the same time. Being surrounded by him was like having a living shield around her. She could hide for a time and let the world go. It pleased him entirely too much to protect her like this. It was one more way he was claiming her, and there was little she could do about it.
"Are you alright, precious?" he asked, and used his fingers to tip her head back to look at her face.
Her cheeks colored, both from having this really hot man looking at her, and from the embarrassment of why he'd been summoned to her side. "I just dropped a cup," she mumbled, trying not to lie.
He sighed, causing her cheek to bounce on his pleasantly firm stomach. "It happened again, didn't it?" He was concerned about her continuing symptoms, and was keeping track of everything that happened to her. She didn't answer, which was all the confirmation he needed.
"My Heart," he murmured. "What am I going to do with you?"
"Lock me in a tower with a dragon to guard me, where I shall wait for a handsome prince to rescue me?" she quipped, trying to make light of the situation. It backfired on her, for suddenly his arms locked around her, almost painfully hard. His eyes burned with the emotion that looked like anger, but somehow wasn't. She used to be afraid of his burning look, thinking she had done something wrong, but he was always so gentle with her during those times. He usually did something that made her cry, like when he let her look in on her family, and then swore he would never stop looking for her. Or when he gave Maple to her, or when he reunited her with her friends.
He leaned down over her, his pale silky hair falling around them. Suddenly it was hard to breathe. Having the Goblin King's complete focus was an intense experience. She wished she could say it was only his aura of royal power that was making her tremble, but in truth she was more aware of him as a man than as her sovereign at that moment. Her body reacted to him, and her mind was too befuddled by his allure to remember why giving in to him was a bad idea.
"And am I your dragon or your prince?" he asked in a sultry voice. As sometimes happened between them, she had a flash of insight, and knew what he was really asking was if he was her jailor or savior. Her answer was important for both of them.
"You are handsome," she said breathlessly. The beginning of a smirk twisted his lips. "But you are much too strong to be a mere prince. Therefore you must be the dragon, but I don't think I am the kind of maiden to wait for someone to come for her."
"No?" he asked, and his tone was carefully even. There was a rare hint of dissatisfaction in his eyes. He did not like being called her jailor. She did not think of him in that way, so she changed her fairy tale to make it clear.
"No, I think I am the kind that leaps onto the back of the dragon, so that we might fly away to adventure," she finished. It took him only a second to understand, and then his eyes burned stronger than before. His head dipped toward hers. Without thinking she raised her face to meet his, and he kissed her.
It was far less circumspect that the usual kisses he gave her in public. No, this was a full on, toe-curling, heart-pounding, blood-boiling meeting of their lips. It was sweet fire that ignited inside her, and made her cling to him. One of her hands rose to trace his face, helplessly drawn to his sharp, wild beauty. His hand fisted in her hair, firmly holding her in place while he explored her mouth. He took leisurely possession of her, staking his claim, leaving no doubt what he wanted.
A very distant part of her brain shouted that he was far too close, but she ignored it. There was only here and now, Jareth kissing her, wanting her, and herself hugging a wave of pleasure and passion. Yes, this was flying, flying as if he had carried her off from that high tower. She had never been kissed like this before, had never felt anything like it… except that it was familiar, like something she had recently forgotten and couldn't recall.
Her heart suddenly lurched in pain, and she jerked back from Jareth. He made a noise of frustration deep in his chest and moved to capture her again. His hand brushed her arm, and the innocent pressure of his palm on her upper arm catapulted her back into a nightmare. She twitched hard away from Someone, before realizing it was Jareth. A heavy blush stained her cheeks, both at their searing kiss, and at shame for loosing track of Jareth, again.
He held onto her, carefully not touching her arm again. They were both breathing hard, from different reasons. His was pure passion, while hers was a mix of passion and the remnants of terror. Coherent thought began to return, and it was followed by a surge of horror. Never before had she been so swept away by passion. It would have been so easy for her to forget everything, to allow him to seduce her. But she couldn't do that. It was more than because he deserved someone better than her. She deserved more as well.
Jareth was a good man, but he did not love her. The ageless Fae would never love a plain human like herself. Someday, he would make a woman very happy when he asked her to marry him, but that woman could not be her. When she was swept off her feet, as he had nearly done by his kiss, she wanted to be because of love, not lust. She bit her lips hard, using the pain to banish the warm ache in her body.
"My Sarah," Jareth said fiercely, though his voice was hardly more than a whisper. His expression was sharp and savage. She felt guilty for denying him again, but he did nothing to force her back into that pleasure-fogged state. He claimed her with his words and his nearness, but no farther. There was something new in his eyes as he looked at her: pride. He was proud of her, for some undefinable reason. Most men would be proud of their strength or prowess, or smug at having stolen such a powerful kiss. Instead, he looked on her as though she were the one that had conquered an invading army.
She stared at him dumbly, unable to find her voice. If she could speak at that moment, she would have asked why? Why did he have to pick her as his Heart? Why did he have to be so determined to seduce her? Why did he have to kiss as though he was drowning in her? And why couldn't he love her, just a little? Such thoughts were forbidden, and she had tried to keep them from her mind and heart. Because she was not as unaffected by Jareth as she tried to be. When he touched her, it was more than not wanting to let him down. It was that something stirred in her soul, no matter how she tried to deny it.
She rubbed her bottom lip absently, recalling the force and passion of his kiss. The feeling of weird familiarity persisted. That did not feel like a man who was only adding a notch to his bed post. It felt like a man who revealed his heart in his ki—
The pain in her head was much worse this time. She was perhaps a bit dizzy from their activities, and then this struck out of the blue. She clenched her eyes tight against the agony, and her body felt dangerously light for a moment. She fell against Jareth. He noticed her distress, and caught her easily. Maple barked. Her head swam for a moment, making her stomach lurch.
There seemed to be an awful lot of movement around her, and she finally realized that Jareth had picked her up, and was carrying her. She could guess where they were going, and groaned. She tapped her head against his chest, but not even his muscles were as hard as the wall she wished she was hitting.
"Please don't tell Lilac that I had another spell," she begged. She didn't want more questions, more concerned looks. She really just wanted people to leave her alone so she could figure out how to deal with this trauma on her own.
"Another spell?" he rumbled. "I'd say that was at least two."
She stilled at his tone of voice. He was angry. Again, not angry at her, so much as the situation. He had gone dark and volatile. For some reason, she was the only one safe around him when he was in this mood. A door swung open, and then they were in her room. The sight of the bed suddenly made her yawn. She had not realized she was tired until then. As usual, Jareth had known before her.
"I'll not tell Lilac," he offered, "If you lay here and rest a while. Sleep if you can."
"Okay," she agreed meekly. For some reason taking care of her seemed to sooth him. After everything she put him through, she figured it was the least she could do. His administrations were not as obnoxious as Lilac or Zinnia hovering over her. There was one more reason she did not protest the way he watched over her when he was like this. He set her down on the bed, tucked her in, and lifted Maple to the bed where the puppy laid on her feet.
He started to turn away, but she reached out and caught his hand. If he had fully faced away from her, he would have become Someone. But more than her own issues, she was also protecting Jareth from himself. While he was with her, he was gentle, no matter his mood. If he was not helping her, he might do something he'd regret.
"Stay with me?" she asked, trying to make her voice weak and pathetic. It didn't take a lot of effort. Without a word, he dropped a crystal to the floor. When it broke, there was a chair in its place. Still holding her hand, he sat in the chair. She felt an instant of disappointment. She wondered how much nicer it would feel if he climbed in bed with her.
Instantly she chided herself. Her body was still overly warm from that kiss. She had a headache, that had something to do with her cripple thoughts, though she couldn't have said what. Clearly she was not thinking straight. No, she did not want Jareth in bed with her. No matter how well he kissed. No matter that his kiss still felt achingly familiar. No matter than the thought of him in bed with her stirred a strange sense of deja-vu. She could almost feel his weight on the bed next to her, even though she saw him sitting on the chair. She could feel his arms slip around her, though he held her hand. Perhaps, she thought hazily as sleep began to claim her, she finally had been driven mad.
A couple hours of rest did wonders to restore her energy. In her impatience to be well again, she sometimes pushed herself too hard, and taking a step back to relax helped greatly. Most of her symptoms disappeared after her nap, but one persisted. It began when Jareth kissed her with such abandon. The familiarity whenever she thought of that kiss lingered, and only seemed to increase. Nor was that the only sign. When she woke in the morning, she had the strong conviction that someone was in bed with her. It wasn't a frightening feeling, as if there were a stranger there, but rather a comforting one, as if a long loved companion was next to her.
She reached out to find out who it was, but the bed next to her was empty. It was such a disconcerting feeling that it jerked her from pleasant half-asleep to full, shocked awareness. She looked at the flat covers next to her, and felt a sharp sense of loss and disappointment. Sometimes she thought the blankets held the warmth from a body other than hers, but couldn't be sure it wasn't her imagination.
When she was relaxed, and not thinking of anything in particular, she felt a fluttering in her chest. At first she thought she was having heart palpitations, but she quickly realized that her own heartbeat was unaffected by this feeling. No, it was more like she felt… another heart next to hers. It was a faint sensation that came and went quickly. By the time she realized she was feeling it, and concentrated to see what it was, it faded as if it had never been. And yet, there were times when she rubbed at her breastbone, and her chest felt so… empty behind it. Like something else belonged there, but she didn't know what it was.
She was hearing voices too. It wasn't all the time, and it was always the same voice. When she was tired at night, during her bath or when she was lying in bed and on the verge of falling asleep, it was like a whisper rose from the back of her mind. At first she couldn't make out what it was saying. It could have almost been her own voice, except she felt very clearly it came from another person. When she was concentrating and listening for it, it never came. It was only when she was not thinking of it, her thoughts drifting tiredly, that she began to hear it.
The more she heard it, the more she began to recognize it. It was a man's voice, and he spoke in a low, warm tone. The words were harder to make out, but they were almost always the same thing.
I love you, her unknown whispered to her. The first time she understood him, she jerked upright with a gasp, looking around frantically for whoever spoke. Her eyes filled with tears when she realized she was alone. Maple squirmed onto her lap and licked at her chin, but for once the puppy did not have the power to comfort her. The man who spoke, he said it so tenderly, so intimately that she couldn't deny him. She knew he loved her with every part of his soul.
She wished desperately she knew who he was. It hurt to deny him, to be unable to reply to his declaration. He also called her things like, My love, and sometimes she felt the faint press of lips on her bare shoulder. No matter how many times she reached for him, he was never there. It was like she was being haunted by a loving ghost.
She didn't know what to do about it. She didn't want to tell Lilac that she might be imagining things. She was utterly certain this phantom man was real, even if he was always beyond reach. Zinnia wouldn't understand about her dreaming of another man when to all intents and purposes, Jareth was courting her. And Jareth was the one she absolutely could not breathe a word of it to.
She felt almost as if she were cheating on Jareth, and the guilt almost crushed her. Because even though Jareth only wanted her physically, he remained so very sweet to her. He was courting her, but not for the reasons everyone thought he was. It was clear everyone in the Labyrinth expected them to be a loving couple, but if there were any feelings between them, it was very much one-sided.
She wanted to find her mystery man, the one that loved her. It would be bliss to lie in his arms at last, to feel the contentment she was trying not to take from Jareth. She needed someone else to love her, because Jareth never would, and that was a problem. If only she could find that stranger, maybe Jareth would stop his pursuit of her. He was an honorable man; if he knew another truly loved her, while he did not, he would step aside. She hoped she found her unknown soon, for Jareth was laying very determined assaults on her heart every day, and it frightened her.
When she was with Jareth, she did not think of the whispers she heard at night. When she was in his arms, she did not long for another to hold her. When he laughed with her, or praised her accomplishments, or teased her mercilessly, she felt complete. When he gave her that burning look, she remembered how it felt to kiss him, and found herself wanting to touch him. And then she would remember that he did not, could not, would never love her, and the pain of it nearly ripped her apart.
She was very much afraid she was falling in love with the Goblin King.