Kudos to anyone who realised that dessert hadn't been served and that therefore the date wasn't over! Here is part two...
Their first kiss had been nothing more than an experiment, a butterfly touch; their second had been born of gratitude and suppressed desire; but this was something different altogether. This, Sarah thought dizzily, was like the meeting of two souls. It was warm, and kind, and loving, and so utterly right that she never wanted it to end.
But it did, eventually, and that was okay because it was followed by a second and then quite swiftly a third kiss. For a while there was silence on the balcony, broken only by nonsense murmurings and a couple of giggles from Sarah. She felt oddly as though she were flying. Was this was it was like, falling for someone?
Jareth tapped her gently on the nose with a long finger and grinned. "Ready for dessert?"
"Dessert?" she asked, surprised. She found that despite being convinced she'd explode if she ate another bite a short five minutes ago, pudding sounded like a remarkably good idea. "Mmm… yes please."
Jareth kissed her lightly on the nose and then turned round to the curtain, where – Sarah was suddenly embarrassed to realise – Marta was standing, eyes downcast respectfully. "We're ready, Marta," he said with a note of amusement in his voice at Sarah's discomfort.
"Your majesty," Marta said smartly, and a few moments later they were sitting down again.
"Crème brûlée?" Sarah asked doubtfully, and Jareth raised an eyebrow.
"You don't like it?"
"No, it's not that…" She didn't know how to explain how it seemed incongruous – a fancy French dessert in the Underground? – and, remembering the previous courses, decided to keep quiet and pick up her spoon. She was not altogether surprised to see that that the thick layer of caramelised sugar also contained rather a lot of edible glitter. She cracked it and the custard beneath oozed up beneath the shattered fragments, the perfect texture – creamy, thick, smooth. It tasted as good as it looked; a sweet, warm, vanilla-infused custard. I could get used to being treated like this, Sarah admitted internally.
When they'd finished, Jareth suggested a walk round the gardens. She agreed, and rather than having to walk through the castle, he transported them directly downstairs to the gardens they'd been admiring from the balcony. It was half-dark, half star-light silvered, leaves trembling in a barely discernible breeze as they wandered along paths known only to Jareth.
"Question," she said after a short, comfortable silence: "how did I get here?"
Out of the corner of her eye she sensed, rather than saw, him smile into the darkness. "You felt a sort of pull inside you? Well, the two worlds, Underground and Above, are aligned closely. In some places they even overlap. That's how you get some 'haunted' places, or how some humans accidentally cross over into my world, or more rarely Underground creatures escape into yours. But both worlds… shift. It is a movement similar to the orbit of a star. At various times we are closer than others. I was waiting for a moment where our worlds became so close that we could literally step across the border."
"But can't you cross over into… Above… whenever you want?"
"I can. It is more difficult for you. Since you are neither Fae nor Fae-related, it's more complicated for my magic to bring you across, and it's easier to wait for the gap to be bridged."
"Oh. Okay," she said, interested. And that was when he made the mistake of taking it just one step too far.
"If you were married to me, there would be no such problem."
Sarah stiffened. "What?"
"Because you would be Queen of the Goblins, and as such have my powers, or at least very similar ones," he explained with no sign of regret at having brought up the topic.
"You would bring that up," she snapped, and stalked a few paces ahead of him.
"What do you mean?" he said, in genuine surprise.
"Oh, nothing," she said sarcastically.
"Sarah? I don't understand."
"Of course you don't. You just happened to bring marriage into the conversation. By accident."
"Sarah – " He caught her hand (no gloves!), and she shook it free with real anger.
"For goodness' sake, Jareth! Wasn't it good enough to get me here? To just have some time where we could get to know each other?"
"I – "
"I told you, I'm not ready for that sort of thing! We're barely in a relationship! I don't need that sort of pressure!"
What she could see of his face in the darkness looked hurt, but even as she spoke he rearranged his features into a carefully blank expression. "I did not intend to pressure you," he said quietly.
Something about the way he retreated from her anger only made her more frustrated. "You don't understand! You're always pushing! I don't want that all the time! I'm only just getting to know you. You saying it like that – as if it's the only place we're going to end up – don't I get a choice about this? Can't it be a just "let's see where this is going" thing?"
The longer she talked the more she was aware that she sounded childishly ridiculous. She was throwing a fit over something so insignificant it was barely worth her irritation, and even as she yelled a part of her was coolly considering the situation and concluding that Jareth hadn't really been in the wrong. Unfortunately the rest of her was too busy sulking about the way her beautiful evening had been ruined to listen.
"Sarah, I am very sorry to have offended you," said Jareth icily. "I assure you, it was not my intention." He waited for a moment, giving her a chance to respond in kind. She struggled with herself, knowing that she could give in graciously now and have the whole thing behind her within minutes. But the very stubbornest part of her dug her heels in. Let him suffer. He's an arrogant twat sometimes, and he makes too many assumptions about you. She merely crossed her arms and jutted out her chin.
Jareth waited only a second more, and then he turned on his heel and vanished into the darkness of the garden.
It took a few seconds for her to absorb what had happened, and when she did a mixture of sheer rage and desolation made her eyes sting. He had left. He had just walked away. What was she supposed to do now?
Her first instinct was to lean against a wall and cry, but oddly enough for the Labyrinth there was no wall nearby; they'd been walking down a path flanked by young birch trees. She had no idea what to do; eventually she reached a decision and began to walk back the way they'd come. Tears filled her eyes and spilled over her cheeks, ruining the careful make-up. It had been going so well, and now she'd ruined everything. It hurt, having seen him walk away. She'd sworn to herself that she'd never let anyone walk away from her ever again; that she'd never put herself in a position of trust with anybody once more. She'd screwed up, and look where it had got her.
She sobbed out loud and then jumped at the unexpected volume of the noise, pressing a hand over her mouth to stifle the rest of the hiccup-y sounds that continued to escape her. What an idiot she was being. Her heels caused her to stumble, and she bent down and took them off; they were hurting her, anyway. Barefoot, crying, alone, she made her way to the castle and then stood there, completely at a loss.
Something tugged on one of her shoes, and she gave a little gasp of astonishment and looked round. A goblin was standing there, looking about as pathetic and pleading as a goblin could. He was about the size of a human baby, and was quite spectacularly ugly. A pair of enormous brown eyes, almost brimming with tears, were fixed on hers and he was clutching something which he held out to her. Sarah sniffed loudly.
"W-what's this?" she asked shakily, trying to sound adult and mature as she usually did when dealing with the goblins, as if they were small errant children.
"Flowers for The Sarah. From King," offered the goblin. He lifted his hand up higher, and she examined it with distrust. It was indeed a bunch of flowers – but they were dead, and probably had been so for about a week. Sarah had a strong suspicion that they'd been recently "rescued" from a garbage heap, and this was strengthened when she bent incautiously nearer and was met by a smell second only to the Bog of Eternal Stench. She righted herself hastily, coughing.
"From the King?" she choked.
The goblin nodded eagerly. "To say sorry?" he squeaked hopefully. "For making The Sarah cry."
"Oh!" She finally understood, and nearly cried again. The goblins were trying to make amends. She was instantly torn between wanting to reassure the poor things by taking their 'peace offering', and wanting to get the hell away from those disgusting 'flowers'.
The goblin's eyes, if possible, grew even larger. "You don't like them?" His chin wobbled. A few of his friends popped their heads round the corner, instantly concerned.
Oh, great. Sarah steeled herself. "No, no, they're… they're lovely," she smiled. I can't believe I'm going to do this. She stretched out a hand to take the flowers –
And suddenly Jareth was beside her, and he grasped them before she could. "Thank you, Dribb, but I've changed my mind… I'll give them to Sarah."
Dribb, who had looked terrified when his monarch burst into the middle of the goblins' Special Secret Mission (Make The Sarah Happy), visibly relaxed as soon as it became clear that there was not going to be any immediate kicking or Bogging. In fact, Jareth appeared to be remarkably pleased with the goblin's initiative – something that happened so rarely it tended to be included in the books chronicling the kingdom's history.
At least, Jareth seemed pleased until he realised that Dribb was still standing there happily – and then he gave him a look that quite obviously said Get out before I change my mind. Dribb retreated, rather satisfied with himself.
"I think perhaps these are a little more fitting for you," Jareth was saying to Sarah, and he offered her the flowers, now miraculously a bunch of white lilies that, incidentally, smelled wonderful.
"Thank you…" she said haltingly, unsure as to why he was giving them to her.
"Sarah?" He bent down to look into her face. "Sarah, I truly am sorry. I did not mean to upset or pressure you. You mean everything to me – I would to anything to keep you in my life."
Sarah nodded, trying to speak past the lump in her throat. Nobody had ever said anything so nice to her. "I'm sorry too," she managed eventually. "I know I overreacted. I guess I just… find it hard when anyone gets too close."
"Why?" he asked gently, stroking her cheek.
"I don't know," she mumbled. "I guess maybe when my mum left, I thought nobody would ever want me. A part of me still thinks that."
Jareth stilled, and then pulled her to him in one of his crushing hugs. Sarah protested, trying to keep the flowers from being squashed, but he was about as easy to push off her as stone would have been. "Sarah," he said into her hair, "everybody should want you. You are the most lovable person I have ever met. You should never feel unwanted. Ever." He punctuated each sentence with a tighter squeeze, and Sarah squeaked breathlessly.
"Can't –breathe – Jareth!"
"Oh. Sorry." He let go of her. She wondered how often he hugged people. Not very, would be her bet. "Do you understand, though?"
She laughed in spite of herself. "Yes, I understand. Thank you."
"Good. Come on, then." And they resumed their walk as though nothing had happened.
"Goodnight, Sarah."
"Goodnight, Jareth."
They were back on her doorstep, like a couple from a movie. She was standing on her doorstep, making her nearly level with his height, and she was conscious of a desire to just stay there forever with his hands leaning against the door on either side of her. His eyes burned into hers.
"Thank you for coming out," he whispered eventually.
"Thank you for taking me," she whispered back.
"You're welcome." He kissed her with an intensity that left her heart racing, and then stayed just long enough to give her one of those crooked, sharp-toothed grins. "See you later."
As she fumbled for her keys, she became aware that her hands were shaking, and she couldn't help smiling to herself.
Picture this scene: me, a shortish slightly-on-the-chubby-side curly-haired green-eyed lass, standing with my hands on my hips, confronting Sarah and the Goblin King.
Me: Seriously, you guys. Couldn't you get through ONE DATE without having a blatantly ridiculous argument?
Sarah [shuffles uncomfortably]: Sorry... I tried, really I did... he's just so smug sometimes...
Jareth: Don't lie, my dear, you love every single moment in my company.
*cue slapfest*
They are such a nightmare sometimes.
So, what do you think of my pudding choice...? (Honoria Granger, I'm talking to you...)
Thanks as always for your lovely reviews. Nicoletta, I hope that there are enough goblins for you, and I apologise profusely for the unintentional Edward reference (ugh). Broken-Rose-Thornsxoxo, congratulations, you managed to make me procrastinate on sorting out job applications enough to get this chapter underway with your shortbread cookies and begging. And Daliah Valley, thank you for what was probably the longest and most exciting review I've ever received. I literally jumped out of bed and ran to get my housemate because I was so excited about you singing my praises. Thank you all very much for being so sweet.
Coming up next: goblins, glitter, cupcakes, relationship advice, hot chocolate, and James Blunt. Stay tuned.
Love and glitter :D