Author's Notes:
Special thanks to Solea. You always make me smile with your in-depth reviews and force me to address difficult issues. Granted, as in this case, I'm not always happy with the results, but I enjoy the challenge.
Persephone 28
Innocent Deaths
Trembling, she followed him out of the chamber without a word, well aware of every highly-arched brow rising in their wake. Sarah swallowed hard, fighting the continual dizziness buzzing in her ears. She barely noticed as they left the crowded chamber, stepping into the night air. She drank in eager lungfuls, thankful for the crisp new oxygen after inhaling the heady, delirious perfumes in Navarre's court.
But the Goblin King cut her relief short by handing her up into a sudden-appearing carriage. She stared out the window as he sat down beside her, recovering her senses. At the driver's command, the horses stepped off into a smooth trot. Pressing her nose to the windowpane, she stared through the glass. They sat in silence for nearly an hour while each regained their bearings. Sarah watched the nine circles of Navarre fade into the distance. Then, she turned to her companion with the obvious question:
"Why are you riding with me? You didn't before."
He rested a gloved
hand on her thigh, delighted to sit at her side and find her asking a
question besides the obvious one he assumed would be on her mind: Why
was he sitting by her? He found strangely divine delight at her
simple proximity on the same carriage couch. Jareth watched the
drooping tendrils of her hair flit and bounce on her temples with a
contented smile for a moment before responding. "Someone needs to
travel with you," he explained. "I see no need to hurry
home."
She watched her brow wrinkle in the reflecting glass.
"You're not purposefully offending the high king by not deigning
to travel?"
Jareth laughed lightly as she quietly slung his words back at him. "Forgive me if I merely wanted to enjoy your company Sarah." She hiccupped softly, daintily covering her mouth. His lip quirked to the side. "And as I said, we have no reason to hurry home."
She released her breath in a quiet, unobtrusive huff. Finally turning to look at him, Sarah lowered her chin before meeting his eyes. "May I ask a question?" her voice hovered on the nervous and soft, but she concealed its edge.
"My dear, you already have." He felt the intensity of her eyes, hot on his cool ones. "But of course…" one gloved hand gestured as if to pull words from her tongue.
She intended to start with something innocuous, but she remembered how frequently he answered more than a few of her questions. Naturally, the least innocuous one leaked out of her mouth first. "I know you plan on forcing me to marry you," she looked into her lap, voice very nearly submissive. She swallowed, stammering, "in the fullest sense of 'marriage.' but Lord Merfin said…and you said, about a powerful heir and…" she clapped her mouth shut.
"What did he tell you?" Jareth asked with one eyebrow raised, hiding his curiosity behind patience.
She flushed crimson and stared out the window, pursing her lips. "Basically, that you would use me to have lots of baby boys that the high king can't have." Outside, dark clouds threatened rain over lonely, new-sown, spring fields. Tiny droplets misted the window pane as the carriage rumbled along.
"And my mother told me that I was not the type to want a large family." Jareth bit out a laugh before thinking briefly of his own insensitivity. "I must assure you to trust her over Draco my dear."
Glancing over her shoulder, Sarah studied him. She didn't bother to voice her obvious objections, but unfortunately, the quaver in her voice gave them away. "You couldn't possibly be anyone's father."
He shrugged. "People change with time." Lightly, he caught her shoulder, turning her to face him again. "I would rather care most deeply for one, or two, then any sort of large brood."
She stared at his doublet. Her mind positively couldn't wrap itself around that. Fiancée or not, her hatred merely quieted, but in no way diminished. He did not care for anyone, let alone the innocent. Sarah tried a different angle. "And because I'm human…"
"You are considerably more fertile than the women here, yes. Even at your tender age." He smiled at the charming red blotches spreading on her neck. "But pay that no mind." Jareth slid a few inches closer to her on the bench.
"Is that why the high king is so…," she searched for a word, mentally tracing the embroidery across his chest, "interested in me?"
"You may call a spade a spade when alone with me." His hand crept to her shoulder. His thumb took to tracing a small circle against the ridge of her collar bone. "Your human fertility is not an unwanted asset, I'm sure, but I imagine they desire your spirit and presumed power over me even more."
She was getting answers. His touch tickled, sending little shivers up her spine. The girl forced herself to sit still. "I don't have any secrets of the Labyrinth," she confessed, a trifle ashamed.
"They don't need to know that."
"I don't really know how I did it," Sarah continued, slowly tracing his forearm and elbow with her eyes, looking past his hand to his face. "I had to, so I did. Simple. Sometimes life is just like that. I just pushed. Not that it was easy," she added, not wanting to hurt his ego. Perhaps, if she could restore his pride, he'd let her go- but confessing to happenstance success didn't seem like the right method.
His fingers crept nimbly over her shoulders, creating a loose cage. "Indeed. Sometimes we do what we must."
Sarah hated the way he twisted her words. "That's not what I meant."
"Nevertheless…"
She didn't know what to say when everything came back to his victory. Rain pelted the roof, thumping and twinking against the various surface materials. Sarah wished she could lean back and enjoy the odd musicality of it; his fingers pulled her ever-so-slightly deeper into his arms. "Couldn't you just sit across from me?" she sputtered.
"No."
She tried to get up and escape to the other bench, but he caught her wrist. When she sat still, he returned to the picture-perfect devoted lover. She hated him- but didn't say a word in anger. Shouting couldn't possibly help when he could physically over-power her. "What's going to happen when we get back to the Labyrinth? The same sequence of staying confined to my room, forced to see you at meals and begging for a few little pleasures? You wouldn't even let me see Nightengale's filly again before we left- I've got to name her."
"When we return home…" he stressed the word, but paused to consider. "Of course you may see your horse as often as you please," he pressed his mouth dangerously close to her ear, tickling and whispering as the rain dampened the sound of his voice. "We shall go to the gardens, now that the roses are abloom."
"Joy," Sarah replied in monotone, leaning far enough away to avoid the itchy heat of his breath without upsetting him- like walking a terrible tight-rope. Then the carriage jolted over a bump or through a puddle, she didn't know, but she lost her balance, slipping from the cushion.
With a little half smile, Jareth recovered himself and drew his bride into his arms. "Why my darling, what do you want?" Jareth pushed a curl off her forehead with his free hand, closing the embrace, half lifting her into his lap, eternally intrigued by that startled pout. "I told you at the outset, you need only ask," he purred. "What do you wish of me?"
Of course, freedom didn't count. Pointedly, she turned back to the window. "It seems pointless to just ask, since you're always going to shoot me down."
His voice hardened. "Try me." She let him gather her into his arms. Jareth rested his head atop hers.
"Well…" From his contented, sonorous sigh she guessed his contended mood granted her the best possible chance to get something…But what? Given the opportunity to ask, her mind flooded with possibilities; they tangled in her head. What could she actually get? "I'd like to see more of the Underground, if I'm going to live in this world forever. I don't like feeling so lost and clueless." She felt him nod slightly. "I want to know about this place."
"There is much for you to learn, though I think I can satisfy your curiosity at home for the time being," Jareth drawled. She hoped he meant only the most literal incarnation of that statement. "The other kingdoms are unlikely to welcome me just now."
A partial victory then, especially considering his stunt at the coronation; she forced the muscles in her back to loosen. The fledgling conversation seemed to head in her favor. "But you'll think about taking me somewhere?" she queried, prying at his cryptic phrasing. "And 'satisfy my curiosity' in other, academic ways?"
The king chuckled deep in his throat. Sarah felt her scalp vibrate. "Kiss me."Her breath hitched in her throat; she swallowed, willing to try a diversion to keep him acquiescing and promising. Turning over her shoulder, she pressed her lips to his cheek in a flash, evading any possibility of capture.
Quid pro quo. Jareth grinned, stroking her hair and separating Sophia's carefully structured curls. How he adored Sarah's games! Of course, he could have caught her. If she'd stop hiding from him, he'd surely entertain her with the delights of the Underground. If she asked, he'd offer her a bargain every time. "What else?" he added, calmly devilish.
Shock soared through her veins to her head, resulting in the flush Sarah hated so much. "I just want to do things," she stammered, listening to his slow breathing. "I don't want to sit in my room reading all the time. I want to ride the horses and explore."
"Under consideration, of course. Now that your permanent fever has left."
Sarah chose to ignore his poisoned barb. "I want Alexander to teach me more dances…"
"I shall teach you," he interrupted. "We can spend the time together."
"Then I get to see friends whenever I want."
"No." He stated the word so casually, squeezing her back against his chest in an iron-clad embrace. "When you become queen, they will be too far beneath you. In fact, they already are."
Sarah squirmed in his embrace. She pressed her elbows into his biceps in warning. "Let go," she pleaded, dominant confidence waning.
"I repeatedly tell you to ask my favor," he growled in her ear before kissing the lobe. "Never order me. You may find I comply to your good will, my contrary angel."
Without any command from her brain, her entire body went limp. "You never ask me anything," she sneered. "Never."
He sighed over-dramatically. "Both you and I have had a long hard night. Let's not fight. No need to get excited." He squared his shoulders behind hers, placing a light kiss against her temple. "Our positions are indeed different. You must respect that."
Sarah lowered her chin, eyes smoldering behind delicate lashes. She tried to keep her voice quiet, supplicant and demure. "What am I supposed to do? Beg?"
"Asking might make a good beginning," he murmured into her hair. "One I shall likewise remember."
"Promise?" she asked, even though she didn't imagine his word to mean anything anymore, she hoped it might give her a fighting chance.
"Yes," he whispered, head hovering over hers. It would have to do.
They sat in silence, with no more conversation but the creaks of the carriage bumping over the road, for hours on end. By no virtue belonging to either of them, sheer exhaustion crept in and she fell into restless sleep trapped in his arms.
xxxx
They arrived at the castle in the early dawn hours of morning. Dimly, Sarah felt careful hands guide her back to her familiar room in the castle's east wing. Jareth retreated to frame the threshold as she reemerged from preparing herself for bed. The light of the rising sun streaked through his hair around his black silhouette.
He stepped to her side as she climbed into bed, adjusting the blankets around her shoulders. "I will meet you tomorrow for brunch and a stroll," he said quietly before adding, "If I may."
He tried, even half-heartedly. Sarah nodded, unable to envision a better situation in her depressed state, at least for the moment. At least she knew a few of the twists and turns here.
A soft, quick knock sounded at the door before Jareth could continue. "Enter," he snapped, staring over his shoulder.
Gilda peered around the door with watery eyes. "Mistress," she wiped tears from her eyes with a chubby fist, hastily correcting herself when she saw the king. "Your Majesty, I have terrible news for Mi'Lady."
Sarah didn't see him nod; she sat up, pushing the blankets aside. "Gilda, what's wrong? Tell me!"
"I couldn't send for you but…Portia and her sister, your little wee felines…"
"Demeter," Sarah supplied the name, "What happened?"
Gilda wrinkled her nose, scrunching her face to keep her expression under control. "They're ill. A fever I think; Demeter's never been very strong…"
"Sarah, you must sleep now," Jareth interrupted.
She glared at him, but kept her tone even again. Taking a small steady voice was beginning to feel like less of an accomplishment and more like a normal occurrence. "This is important to me."
He nodded, retreating half a step into the doorframe. Shadows fell across his face.
Gilda took a deep breath before continuing, "…I donna think she's going to make it."
Sarah winced. "Are they down in the stables?"
"Yes mistress. I've kept them warm and cared for."
She looked to the king, choosing her words carefully. "I need to go down there. I know it's late; well, early I guess, but I need to. Please, may I?"
xxxx
The sun hovered delicately over the eastern horizon when Sarah reached her treasured pets. She didn't even have time to look in on Nightengale and her newly dubbed foal. The kittens rested in a box in the tack room. Portia perked up right away once she saw Sarah. With her bright eyes, she would have looked healthy and nearly ready for mischief, if not for her sister. Demeter lacked her vibrant spark. She died in Sarah's arms before the sunlight graced the outskirts of the labyrinth.
