Pas de deux
By Telcontarian
I've brought you…a gift!
Here it is: the final chapter, and your Scribe is an emotional wreck. I've decided to go ahead and post this chapter a day early, as I'm playing in an all-Bard D&D campaign tomorrow. It's going to be chaos!
Thank you to my wonderful readers and reviewers for supporting me throughout this fic. I am pleased to say that the smut in the last chapter was responsible for countless cold showers, and left BustedBrain speechless for the first time in her life. Also, a massive thank you to my wonderful beta bowie_queen.
Chapter Six: Révérence
There was a softness now to their movements, a shared secret between them with every glance and every casual touch. While very little changed in their daily routine, Sarah no longer slept alone; she woke every morning in Jareth's bed with his lips pressed against her hair, and his body curled protectively around hers. He greeted her with soft smiles and drowsy kisses, and in the rare instance when neither of them had a morning class, Jareth would coax her back into bed for a few more precious hours of sleep. It was so easy to surrender to his warm body pulling hers back under, their hearts beating side by side in the quiet stillness of the dawn.
Sarah was surprised to learn that Jareth was affectionate and would often grin like a besotted schoolboy whenever he attempted to steal kisses between rehearsals. He often linked their fingers together, bringing her wrist against his mouth to place a gentle kiss against her pulse point, and Sarah would feel the soft curl of his lips against her skin. And although she had been on her own for ten years—learning to survive in a city that hadn't always been kind to her—it wasn't long before Sarah came to the startling realisation that she could not live without Jareth in her life.
The weeks passed by in a flurry of dress rehearsals, creative differences with the costume department, and a series of photoshoots to promote the opening weekend ahead of the start of the season. Jareth continued to accompany Sarah to her rehearsals and was often the first to lend his support to sooth her frayed nerves, or to help settle a difference in opinion between herself and the creative director. He was her biggest advocate, and Sarah had never been more thankful for his unwavering support.
Sarah wasn't the least bit surprised when she discovered that Jareth had somehow been granted access to the official programme. They had not yet been made available to the principal dancers, but still Jareth pressed a glossy pamphlet into her hand over breakfast one morning. She ran her fingers almost reverently over the image in her hands, and Sarah blinked back her tears at the sight of her own eyes staring back at her from the leaflet clutched tightly between trembling fingers. The photo manipulation was clever, showing Sarah dressed as both Odette and Odile with Siegfried caught between them both. As Odette she was graceful and demure—an elegant beauty clothed in while lace and tulle—glancing shyly up at Peter as he embraced her from behind. As Odile she was a vision in black; she was ruthless and cunning, a haughty smirk painted on her lips even as her fingers moved to close possessively around Peter's upper arm in a vice-like grip.
Sarah glanced up just in time to see the ghost of a smirk pulling at Jareth's mouth. Their morning meal was soon forgotten as Sarah moaned her gratitude and appreciation into Jareth's ear when she straddled his waist at the breakfast table, sinking her welcoming body down onto the thick length of his cock.
He continued to steal kisses as she readjusted his tie after their unexpected tryst, a pretty blush staining her cheeks. Sarah smoothed every last strand of his hair back into place after she insisted on running her hands through the impossibly soft strands and tugging gently in the heat of the moment. The memory of Jareth lifting her effortlessly to spread her open on the breakfast table and thrusting up into her roughly, his lips moving against her throat, was one that would remain with Sarah for a long time. Jareth winked at her, and he pressed one final kiss against her cheek before glancing at the kitchen clock. "I must go," he said regretfully, "I have an early class this morning. Shall we go out for dinner after our lesson tonight?"
Humming softly to herself, Sarah gathered their breakfast dishes and washed them quickly, before heading to the main bathroom to take a quick shower ahead of her morning classes. As she drained the last few gulps of her coffee, Sarah frowned when her eyes fell on a letter lying on the kitchen worktop, recognising the embossed logo of the New York City Ballet. Dread settled low in her stomach when she picked up the piece of paper with trembling fingers, and a shard of ice pierced her heart as her eyes flew over the page. Stunned, Sarah sank heavily back onto her breakfast chair—the letter falling from limp fingers and onto the floor—and she blinked back the tears that had started to pool in her eyes. A small part of her had always known that Jareth would move back to New York City in a heartbeat; he had already admitted as such over their lunch date which now seemed like a lifetime ago.
It really wasn't fair, not when Sarah thought that she had finally found where she belonged, and she had even started to feel happiness once more at the prospect of a future together with Jareth. Opportunities like this, however, came along once in a lifetime, and Sarah knew that she would never forgive herself if she became the obstacle that stood in his way and held Jareth back. And as her tears started to fall in earnest, she wondered if she was destined to live the rest of her life alone and watch as everyone that she had ever loved left her behind.
The opening weekend of the season finally arrived, and Sarah could feel Jareth's concerned gaze mapping her, almost as if he was committing every last inch of her face and body to his memory. She had become quieter and more withdrawn over the past several weeks, and Jareth would have been a fool not no notice the growing distance between them. He continued to shower her with quiet words of adoration as he worshipped her body in the quiet stillness of the deep night. He whispered soft words of comfort and praise in her ear as she shuddered and shattered around him, coming apart beneath him with a soundless cry.
Jareth had left shortly after breakfast with murmured apologies about business that he had to attend to, promising that he would stop by her dressing room before the start of the performance. Sarah had spent the entire morning and early afternoon in last-minute rehearsals being mercilessly poked and prodded by the costume department as they made emergency adjustments to her outfits. When the daylight hours seemed to vanish in the blink of an eye, Sarah tried desperately to calm her nerves.
Just as she finished applying her stage make-up, there was a gentle rapping of knuckles on her dressing room door, and Jareth stilled when he entered, his eyes dark as his gaze swept over her body. "Gods above," he muttered hoarsely, carefully placing a large bouquet of beautiful flowers down onto her dressing table. He hummed softly, pressing a careful kiss against her cheekbone, and he buried his face in her hair while he held her silently. Despite her constant bickering with the costume department with whom she had clashed with on a daily basis, Sarah really could not find fault in the beautiful outfits that had been entrusted into her care. For her role as the Swan Queen, each individual feather had been painstakingly handsewn into her tutu while the bodice hugged her curves perfectly, the tops of her breasts just visible above the elegant sweetheart neckline. As she turned in Jareth's arms, the light caught her outfit just so, and she all but shimmered in Jareth's embrace. The costume department had spent many hours embroidering hundreds of tiny diamanté crystals into the ivory corset that she had been expertly laced into.
Odile's outfit, on the other hand, was daring and seductive, the ebony bodice dipping low between her breasts in a plunging neckline. Odile's dress had been awarded the same time, effort and exquisite detail, likely causing the costume department many sleepless nights embellishing silver filigree into the bodice and similarly sewing each black feather into the tutu by hand.
"Exquisite," he murmured, and she fought not to blush under his scrutiny when Jareth's eyes burned as he took her hand. He encouraged Sarah to turn for him in the middle of her dressing room so that he could take in every last inch of her outfit. Mindful of her make-up, he kissed the top of her head, the delicate shell of her ear and her throat, and her pulse fluttered under his mouth like fragile butterfly wings. "You make the most beautiful Swan Queen, Sarah-mine," he murmured, eyeing Odile's outfit speculatively from where it hung on the back of the door, and a wicked smile pulled at his lips. "But I will be waiting with bated breath for the Black Swan to make her debut on stage."
Jareth chuckled when Sarah swatted at his arm, giving her a rueful smile as he glanced at his wristwatch. "It's almost time for me to take my seat," he said regretfully, holding his arms out to her and cradling her body against his when she stepped into his embrace once more. "I am so proud of you, Precious, of everything that you have achieved," he murmured against her hair, his quietly spoken words and the steady beating of his heart under the palm of her hand soothing the last of her fears.
With Jareth's words ringing in her ears, Sarah held her head high when she stepped on stage, and the thunderous applause that echoed throughout the auditorium upon her entrance sang through her veins like the sweetest music that she had ever heard.
Her heart beating wildly in her chest and the stage lights almost blinding her, Sarah's feet danced lightly over the stage as she linked her fingers with Peter's to take their révérence before the audience. The roar of the thunderous applause was deafening when the audience took to their feet, filling the Royal Opera House with their wild cheers, and tears pricked her eyes as Sarah rejoined the rest of the ballet corps. She was drunk on the adrenaline that coursed through her veins, breathless with exhilaration and elation. She swallowed back the lump of emotion lodged in her throat as her eyes finally found her mentor, Master Llewelyn—Jareth—clapping in the front row, a fierce pride shining in his eyes and his smile wide as he celebrated her hard-won success. As the curtains drew softly shut around them, her smile faded slightly. Her time here with Master Llewelyn was drawing to a close, and she wondered how she would ever live the rest of her life without him.
Sarah stumbled into the wings, and she managed a weak smile for the rest of the ballet corps. They flocked around her to congratulate her performance with claps on the shoulder and hugs, despite Sarah having never interacted with a few of the ballerinas before tonight. Jareth was already waiting for her offstage as she knew he would be. Her heart thumped painfully in her chest at his impossibly wide grin, and as she approached, he held his arms out to her. Uncaring of their audience, uncaring of the speculative glances and hushed whispers, Sarah stepped into his embrace. Jareth's hands dropped to her hips and he lifted her into the air, spinning her around, and her own hands clutched at his shoulders for support. Despite the melancholy that had settled earlier on her heavy heart, it was hard not to laugh with delight when Jareth pressed his lips against her forehead. When he lowered Sarah gently to the floor, he kissed her cheeks, the tip of her nose and finally her mouth, before kissing every inch of her face that he could reach.
"You were magnificent, Precious," he murmured, and he pulled out the pins securing her hair, his fingers brushing through the curls as her hair tumbled over her shoulders.
"I could never have accomplished all of this without your help." Sarah buried her face in the crisp linen of his shirt, tears gathering in her eyes as the adrenaline of the last few hours left her body, and the emotional upheaval finally caught up with her. Sarah pressed her lips against Jareth's cheek and slipped her arms around his neck, lulled by the familiar beating of his heart. Jareth rocked her gently, one hand cupping the back of her head and the other pressed against the small of her back as he held her tightly against him, whispering soft words of praise and adoration in her ear.
"Come on, Sarah," he said softly, "Let's get you changed before we head home, and then I have a gift for you."
Sarah smiled when he laced his fingers with hers and pulled her into the dressing room away from prying eyes. She was unsure whether or not Jareth realised his slip-up when he had referred to it as "their home." Sarah could not deny the warm thrum of happiness that coursed through their veins, nor the soft pounding of her heart as she allowed herself one golden moment to picture a life where she and Jareth had a future together. He pressed her down gently into a chair, humming softly under his breath as he applied a little make-up remover to a cotton pad and started the tedious process of removing her stage make-up. Jareth kissed every inch of her golden skin as it was revealed to him, making Sarah giggle when he insisted on kissing every last freckle that graced her nose and cheeks. Sarah gathered her clothes and started to peel the elaborate costume from her body, pausing only to swat Jareth's wandering hands away when he attempted to help her undress. "You're incorrigible."
"Can't blame a man for trying, Precious," he chuckled against her hair, pressing his lips against the crown of her head before pulling away reluctantly. "Ready?"
Sarah nodded, and she slipped her hand inside his, lacing her fingers through his. "Let's go home."
Thankfully the roads were quiet and the traffic light, and Jareth pulled up outside his home in Marylebone fifteen minutes later. He glanced over at Sarah as she dozed lightly, his eyes soft and his lips curled upwards in a fond smile before he regretfully nudged her awake. "Come on, Sarah-mine," he murmured, "Let's get you inside. I still have a gift for you before we turn in for the night." He opened the passenger door for her, coaxing a sleepy Sarah out into the cool, London night air with gentle words and amused chuckles when she attempted to put up a fight. He finally resorted to light-hearted threats to toss Sarah over his shoulder and carry her over the threshold when she did not comply.
She grumbled under her breath as Jareth finally persuaded her to climb the steps, but she paused in the doorway, her brows drawn over confused eyes as she glanced through the lounge window. Despite the late hour, the curtains were still opened and the lights switched on, bathing the room in a soft glow. "Did you forget to turn off the lights and draw the curtains before you left?"
Jareth hummed noncommittally, paying entirely too much attention to unlocking the door, but an enigmatic smile played at his lips and his eyes gleamed under the soft lamplight that illuminated the sleeping street. He gestured for Sarah to precede him and as she stepped over the threshold, a quiet hush seemed to settle over the townhouse, as if several voices suddenly ceased their conversation. "What's going on?"
Pulling Sarah briefly to his side, Jareth curled his arm around her waist and pressed a kiss against her temple. "I called in my favour with your mother tonight," he whispered against her hair, and she stiffened in his arms, swallowing down the bitter taste of ash in her mouth at the mere mention of Linda Williams. "I doubt that your relationship with Linda Williams will ever be repaired, but I think that this was her way of making amends," he continued, and he brushed past her to push open the lounge door, nudging Sarah forward.
She froze in the doorway, and Sarah swore that her heart stopped beating in her chest and time ground to a halt around her when the faces of her father, stepmother and little brother gazed back at her for the first time in ten years.
Beside him on the couch, Karen dabbed at her tears with a handkerchief, but Sarah only had eyes for her father. Robert Williams rose to his feet when the door opened, and she flew across the room when he opened his arms out to her. "We're so proud of you, sweetheart," Robert said softly, his voice thick with unshed tears and wistfulness as Sarah sobbed noisily against his chest. He rocked her gently, his hands stroking her hair like he used to do when Sarah was a child. "You were so beautiful when you danced on stage tonight; I had to remind myself that you're not my little girl anymore."
"She will always be your little girl, Robert," said Karen tearfully, and Sarah finally managed to tear herself away from her father's embrace and into her stepmother's arms. "I couldn't take my eyes off of you, Sarah, you're a wonderful dancer."
Karen brushed a few stray tears from Sarah's face as she pulled back, glancing between her father and stepmother. "I'm so sorry. For everything."
"I couldn't believe it when Jareth called us. We have thought of nothing but you in ten years, and we had almost given up all hope that we would ever see you again. We were so furious when Jareth told us that Linda had abandoned you and left you to fend for yourself." Robert's jaw tightened and Sarah knew that he was trying to contain his anger. "Your mother was always a selfish woman, but I think that this little piece of redemption is her attempt at an apology in the only way that she knows how."
Sarah gave a watery laugh, and she used the sleeve of her sweater to dry her face. "It's probably the nicest thing that she has ever done in her life. I'm sorry that I never contacted you; I picked up the phone to dial your number so many times. But I was always afraid that you wouldn't want anything to do with me after how we left things."
"We would never have turned you away, Sarah," Karen replied. "I know that things haven't always been easy between us, but you must know that I have always thought of you as one of my own. We always made sure that Toby knew that he had a sister when he was growing up."
Sarah turned her gaze on Toby, and he smiled shyly up at his sister from his mother's elbow. "Hey, squirt," she said fondly, pulling him into a one-armed hug and ruffling his hair affectionately, "Look how big you are. The last time that I saw you, you were still wearing diapers." Toby's face turned crimson, and he pulled back, grumbling in embarrassment under his breath while he attempted to flatten his hair.
Jareth chose at that moment to make his presence known, and to Sarah's surprise, Robert held out his hand for Jareth to shake. "Thank you, young man, for bringing our Sarah back to us."
"It was my pleasure," he replied sincerely. "However, it is getting late, and you must all be quite jet lagged. I hope you don't mind, but I've already taken your suitcases up to the guest bedrooms. Why don't we have breakfast together tomorrow morning and you can all get reacquainted?"
"That sounds like a lovely idea," said Karen gratefully. More hugs and kisses were exchanged, and if anyone noticed Sarah clinging to her father's sleeve as if afraid he would disappear, they were polite enough not to draw attention to it. Finally, the Williams' family left the room to head upstairs for the night, closing the door to the lounge quietly behind them, and Sarah and Jareth were left alone.
"I don't even know how to begin thanking you," Sarah whispered as Jareth pulled her against him and she buried her face against his neck. "I never thought that I would ever see my family again."
Jareth dropped a kiss into her hair, his hands cradling her tightly against his body. "It's the least that I could do for you, Sarah; you must know that you mean so much to me."
The clawing guilt that niggled at her heart finally began to overwhelm her, and Sarah swallowed heavily. "I saw the letter from the New York City Ballet," she confessed, and Jareth stiffened against her. "I'm so sorry, I never meant to look, but I recognised the logo. These past few months have been the happiest of my life, but I just wanted you to know that I have no intention of holding you back if you decide to move back to New York."
Jareth cupped her cheek in his hand, and his thumb swiped away the stray tears. "Look at me, Sarah," he said gently and when Sarah raised her eyes to his, she could finally see the sadness in his eyes, and the resigned smile as he sighed heavily. "Believe me when I say that this isn't how I expected you to find out. I had intended to wait until after the season had finished, but I see now that it was unfair of me to make you wait." He ran his hand through his hair in his distraction, his usually carefully styled locks in complete and utter disarray. Sarah smiled fondly, reaching up to tease each strand back into place, and he brought her wrist to his mouth to press his lips against her fluttering pulse. "You are in the prime of your career, Sarah. If you chose to move to New York with me, I have no doubt that you would be accepted into the New York City Ballet if that is something that you wanted to pursue. However, if you want to continue your professional career in London—"
"W-With you?"
Jareth chuckled as he brushed Sarah's hair back from her tear-stained face. "If you want to stay in London, I will send my regrets to the New York City Ballet without a second thought. However, I thought that perhaps you would prefer to return to America? Ten years without seeing your family is far too long."
"I don't really have anything here tying me to London," Sarah admitted, "And I'm sure that you could put in a good word for me at the New York City Ballet," she teased.
"We would be close enough to visit your parents regularly, and you could eat all the chocolate chip pancakes you wanted," Jareth hummed thoughtfully. "And if you decide that the New York City Ballet isn't for you, I suppose we could always open our own ballet studio."
Relief surged through her veins, and she laughed weakly as she cupped his face in her hands and brought his mouth down to hers. "You're not leaving me?"
Jareth smiled fondly, and he pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose before resting his forehead gently against her own. "Never," he promised.
I hope that you have all enjoyed this fic, and that the ending wraps everything up.