Sarah fought a wave of dizziness, swaying as the world came into view. Warmth was the first sensation she noticed. Wind no longer whipped against her. Her feet thawed, toes curling into a plush rug set next to a fireplace she heard crackling and snapping. She would have been grateful if she had opened her eyes to find herself back in the cozy sitting room of the bed and breakfast where she lodged. But she didn't.
Instead, as she opened her eyes, she found herself in an opulent room. Red upholstery with golden embroidery covered the upholstery and drapes. Dark wooden furniture was adorned with gilded accents. It was a room fit for a king.
Bile rose in her throat. She stumbled back as Jareth appear in front of her. She was back in the Underground. In his castle at the center of the Labyrinth. Even if you get to the center, you'll never get out again.
Catching her before she fell, he couldn't believe she was here after all this time. She was his and he would now have everything he'd always wanted. She pulled away from his grip. Allowing her to retreat, he waited. The glare on her face promised amusement.
She gained her footing, standing straight as she demanded, "Take me home."
Crossing his arms, he too straighten to his full height, delighting in the way she had to look up at him. "But you'll miss all the festivities, my dear. And you're the guest of honor."
"No. I won't be a part of any more of your games." She was done. Had enough of his chicanery and tricks.
"No games. Just a simple ceremony for the solstice. An especially important one given the timing of the Cold Moon. It happens so rarely."
Her impatience flared. "Just send me home. I don't care about your ceremony. I only want to leave."
"Temper temper, Sarah. How about we make a little deal? You come to the ceremony and then I'll take you home," he offered.
This was too easy. Certainly, she shouldn't agree to this. There had to be a catch but what choice did she have? Without him, she would never be able to go home.
"And my family and friends?" she asked warily.
He shrugged producing another crystal as though he was bored with their negotiations. "If you still want them to gain their memories after everything then I will restore them."
"Let me see if I understand this." She pinched the bridge of her nose certain she was missing something. "If I go to your moon shindig, you'll take me home?"
"Yes." His attention was focused on the crystal as he maneuvered it least she catch on to the danger she was truly in.
She pressed him further for clarifications hoping to negate any loopholes. "And you'll fix my friends and family's memories?"
He nodded. "If that is what you still wish, yes."
She studied him. He was calm. Meticulously watching the crystal he rolled this way and that over his arms with a lackadaisical grace.
"Fine," she relented. "When does the party start?'
"Thirty minutes." He gestured to a clock on the mantle that signaled half an hour until 13 o'clock.
Sarah glanced down at her tattered nightgown and dirt-crusted bare feet. "I can't go like this."
Jareth stood and crossed the room, his hand waving away the distinct panic in her voice. "I shall send the maids to make sure you are properly attired." He gave her a shallow bow before taking his leave, careful to hide his victorious grin. Sweet, naive little mortal.
Sarah rushed to the door after it closed, pulling on the handle without success. Locked. She didn't know what else she expected. Where would she have even gone?
As she paced the spacious chamber, counting her steps to keep her mind from disastrous wandering, the door opened. Two Fae women in plain navy uniforms complete with white aprons entered and curtseyed in her direction.
The taller one with dark ringlets and brown eyes stepped forward. "My lady, we're here to assist–oh my."
They looked her up and down, their brows raising with their appraisal. Sarah's cheeks heated as she attempted to run her fingers through her hair only to pull out leaves and a twig.
The other maid stepped forward, her coppery tresses twisted in a braid down her back, blue eyes warming towards the mortal. "My name is Aristelle and this is Dinevra. His Majesty has requested we attend to you this evening."
"With not a moment to spare," Dinevra chimed in, her derision plain for all to see.
"Do I have time to take a quick bath or a shower if possible?" Sarah asked. Dirt streaked and scratches scored her skin.
"I'm afraid there is no time," Aristelle responded. "But never fear my lady, we shall have you clean and radiant with all haste."
Dinevra approached Sarah placing her hands on Sarah's crown. It felt as though water flowed down her body but Sarah remained dry. Looking in the mirror, her hair and skin shone. A long white gown replaced her nightgown with layers of gossamer skirts, a bodice covered in glittering embroidery, and strings of beads draping off her shoulders.
Aristelle ran her fingers over Sarah's clean tresses. "You have beautiful hair, my lady. I think we'll leave it down." She twirled the ends, curling them into soft waves. Walking around Sarah, Aristelle cupped her face. "You needn't much makeup either," she appraised.
Sarah once again looked in the mirror. Her cheeks held a dewy flush, lashes were thick and dark, lips plump and tinted rose.
Dinevra created a crown of holly and placed it on Sarah's head. "There now you are ready for the ceremony. We need to make our way to the gathering. Come now."
Sarah followed the maids through the halls of the castle. No chickens are drunken goblins were found along the way. It was clean and elegant. Nothing like she remembered at all.
"So what is this ceremony?" she asked as tried to keep up with tall Fae's strides.
"It's the way our people celebrate the winter solstice usually," Aristelle said as they walked down a long winding staircase.
"Usually?" Sarah prompted.
"It's very significant this time with the Cold Moon, solstice, not to mention The Wild Hunt all converging," said Dinevra.
Sarah nodded as though she knew what that meant. Jareth had said nearly the same thing. In her desperation to get home, she didn't ask exactly how that made it more special. She only wanted to get through this as quickly as possible. Their holidays and rituals were no matter to her.
Aristelle glanced back at Sarah then whispered to Dinevra, "We should tell her–"
Dinevra glared at her companion. "Shh. Hold your tongue."
Sarah stopped. "Tell me what?" she demanded.
Aristelle pulled her into a nearby alcove, peaking her head out searching for anyone possible witnesses. "You are not just an honored guest. You are a participant," she said.
"What do you mean?" hissed Sarah.
Dinevra rolled her eyes and shrugged. "It is traditional for the mortals captured in the Wild Hunt to play a role. Some Fae are entertained when the humans they captured act reluctant or scared. It amuses them and makes them feel more powerful."
"Why would I be scared?" Sarah asked. She'd do anything to go home but what the hell had she agreed to?
Dinevra crossed her arms. "We shouldn't–"
"She needs to know," countered Aristelle. "The ceremony requires blood, a small cut in the palm of your hands, only a few drops poured into a chalice, and a sip taken."
"And I'm expected to do this?" She couldn't believe Jareth would let her go into this all-meaningful ritual without knowing what was required of her. Actually, on second thought, she could. He would be the kind of Fae who would be amused by it.
"Yes," said Dinevra. "We need to keep going." She pulled to the two others back on their path walking, hurrying them along with brisk strides.
Aristelle walked beside Sarah. "We were wrong to tell you?" Her auburn brows knitted together, her lips flattened in a thin line.
"No, I appreciate it. Really." Sarah's heart raced and sweat gathered in her palms as the three approached two grandiose doors.
"Here we are," Dinevra gestured to the handles. "We'll open the doors then you walk straight to His Majesty."
The two Fae open the doors, light momentarily blinded Sarah from the many crystal chandeliers. She stepped over the threshold taking in first the columns swathed with green and gold velvets with red and white poinsettias and garlands of holly spiraling up their heights.
There was an isle down the center of the room. Groups of Fae all dressed in rich furs and heavy damasks and jacquards stood on either side appraising her. Waiting to see how she acted. She would not give them what they wanted.
At the end of the aisle, stood Jareth dressed in tight black pants, Hessian boots, and a red coat with gold embroidery along the collar and cuffs. In front of him was an altar adorned with candles and a golden chalice. Lifting her head, Sarah made her way toward him.
Jareth watched his bride walk to him, dignity radiating from her presence. He knew she would make an impressive showing. Her face was calm with placid pride but her hands clenched into fists at her sides belied the emotions she hid from the world.
Her eyes locked with his. His thin lips stretched into a smile that threatened to steal the very breath from her lungs. Although her heart seemed to pause, she couldn't parse through her feelings fast enough to determine whether it was from fear or something else.
He reached out a gloved hand, guiding her around the altar. Raising his other he spoke to the assembly, his voice carrying with ease words she did not understand. The crowd responded in solemn unison.
Jareth gazed down at Sarah. She would make an excellent queen. She had won over his citizens during her run. The Labyrinth accepted her as Champion. And now his peers would revere her as a Bride of The Wild Hunt. Under the Cold Moon the very night of the winter solstice. Yes, he could expect great things for his kingdom with such a prize by his side.
Her eyes flicked from the congregation who stared with growing avidity, to Jareth's snarled teeth that clenched the tip of his finger as he pulled off his black gloves in turn tossing them on the altar. He unsheathed a dagger from his hip, silver glinting in the candlelight. He slashed his palm, squeezing a fist over the chalice as drops of blood rippled and mixed with the wine it held.
Sarah saw the wicked gleam in his eyes as he turned towards her. They widened while whispers and gasps sounded throughout the hall when she snatched the dagger from his hand. Slitting her palm over she watched as her blood mingled with his own.
Smiling at her precious daring, he took her hand in his tracing his finger over her cut, healing and cleansing the skin. The maids played their parts in preparing her well. She seemed confident. Regal. Willing.
Lifting the chalice to his lips, he sipped the wine tainted with their blood. Sarah hesitantly took the cup when he offered it to her. His breath stopped, only exhaling once she had partaken, her lips now stained a shade deeper than the original rosy rouge.
She listened to the speech Jareth gave, impressed with how he commanded the room although she did not understand his words. His whole aura filled the hall, demanding respect from all gathered before him. It was the first time she had appreciated the fact that he was, in fact, a king.
With a flick of his wrist, the altar disappeared. Amusement played in his eyes at the small show of awe on her face. He took her arm, laying it over his. Her chin was tilted in defiance as she allowed him to lead her down the aisle.
The doors opened. A chorus rang out behind them as they left the hall. "All hail the Goblin King!" All Hail the Goblin Queen!"
Her head whipped towards Jareth. "What the–"
His lips crashed down over hers, his arms crushing her to him. Savoring the brief moment she surrendered in his arms.
The sound of cheers erupting then faded. She didn't remember closing her eyes, but when they opened she once more found herself in the bedroom from before. She shoved away from Jareth, breaking his embrace.
"What just happened?" she demanded putting a few paces between them.
Jareth crossed the room to a cabinet, pulling out a decanter with amber liquid in it, he poured two generous servings into glasses. His offer was denied, but he took a sip from his own before leaning against the wooden surface. "We joined our hands in matrimony, my dear."
"No." She shook her head. The hairs on the back of her neck stood as fear took hold. "No, you said you would take me home."
His arms extended, gesturing to the room around them. "Welcome home."
"You bastard. You lied to me." Her heart raced. A lump settled in her throat that seemed to dry further with each swallow.
"I did not." He took another sip. "I promised to take you home. This is your home now."
She braced herself on the back of a chair. "And my friends and family?"
"If you still want them to remember you, that can be arranged." He threw back the remainder of the drink in one swallow, setting the glass on the cabinet.
Heartbroken. Betrayed. Foolish. She never should have trusted him. Any of them. Nothing here was ever what it seemed. How could she have forgotten? Everything was a trap. Everyone.
"The maids?" she asked coolly.
He was surprised she had managed to work that out so quickly. "Did their duty splendidly."
Anger amalgamated with despair as a tear trickled down her cheek. "Their duty to make me an unwitting fool?"
"Not a fool. A queen with elegance, dignity, and bravery." He pushed off the cabinet, stepping towards his bride. His fingers plucked at the buttons of his coat, shrugging it off, throwing it haphazardly over the back of a sofa. His hands tugged his shirt from his waistband before pulling it over his head, letting it fall to the floor. "Being seen as willing means we are strong and to be feared. It's true you are a Bride of The Wild Hunt, but now they will see you not as prey but as a treasure. Someone not caught but gifted by the gods and fate."
Sarah stepped back, trying to keep the distance between them. No sooner had she gained ground, than her back was met with the cold stone wall.
He was on her in seconds. His hands braced on the wall, caging her in. "Is it really so terrible, Sarah?"
"This isn't what I wanted." The heat from his body surrounded her. Warm taught muscles trapping her in place. His scent enveloping her senses.
"Isn't it?" He brushed her hair over her shoulder, letting the curls twist around his fingers.
She shut her eyes though it did not stop the tears from building. "No."
He leaned down, his lips whispering against her ear. "You've never wondered? Never dreamed about how different your life would be if you had accepted my offer?" He had. Often. Dreaming of her with him, beside him, under him.
Sarah faltered unwilling to admit the truth out loud. She had thought, dreamt of seeing him again. Of saying yes, but never this way. Hunted, manipulated, trapped.
Jareth's lips brushed away the tears that flowed over the curve of her cheek. Trailing kisses along her jaw. He sensed her inner turmoil. The wavering of her strength. He had but to wait for her walls to crumble.
Goosebumps raised on her skin as his fingers stroked her arms, working their way up to rest on her neck, thumbs brushing against her collar bone. What could she do? Fight? Was there a way to win? Could she give in? Would she be subjected to his every whim? Was this even a battle she wanted to fight?
Where could she go? What was left for her? Everything she had ever known, ever loved was gone. She had no one. No anchor. A sob tore from her throat as the flood gates of her heart opened.
He lifted her, cradled against his chest as he carried her through the room. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he let her tears wash over him. Letting her fall apart as he thought of all the other ways he would make her come undone.
He tilted her head, a ghost of a kiss hovering over her lips. "All I have ever desired was to give you everything. Let me love you, Sarah."
It was the subtle supplication in his voice that was her undoing. Her lips met his. Gently at first, but desperation pushed her past propriety as she searched for something, anything to ground her even if it was him.
It was all the encouragement he needed as his tongue pushed into her mouth, coaxing her to respond in kind. He laid them down on the coverlet, their clothes disappearing with silent command. He moaned as he felt the soft curves of her body against his, her thighs spreading, welcoming the friction created as their bodies moved in tandem.
Sarah's fingers fisted in the covers as he broke the kiss, his lips dragging kisses down her neck. His hands cupped the heavy weight of her breast, kneading the soft mound. He sucked her nipple bringing it to a taut point with his tongue. Her back arched with each teasing scrape of his teeth.
He moved lower still on her body, kissing, tasting, touching her bare skin until he settled between her legs, pushing them wide, mesmerized by the sight of her exposed before him. Her cunt glistened, already slick with arousal. His tongue swept through her folds. A ragged gasp melted into a moan as he licked her center. Wrapping his lips around her clit, he sucked the sensitive bud until her thighs shook. He sipped a finger inside her, then two pumping with the rhythm of his mouth until she gyrated against his face.
Overwrought and overstimulated, she felt a coiling sensation building inside of her. Tightening, aching to be released. The pleasure climbed to the precipice of pain, unsure of how much more she could take she cried out as her orgasm ripped through her body leaving her lax, weightless, floating.
Rising to his knees, he stroked his cock as his eyes swept up her body. The rise and fall of her breasts tantalizing as she struggled to calm her breathing. The small thrusts of her hips that beckoned for him to take her. The flush of her cheeks and heavy blinking of her eyes that stared glassily unable to focus. Her hair spread beneath her giving her the appearance of the virgin sacrifices once offered to the gods of eons past. But she was now and forever all his.
He pushed into her slowly, letting her velvet heat envelop him inch by inch. It took all of his self-control not to bury himself to the hilt in one quick thrust. There would be time enough to slake his coarser passions. He still had enough of his wits to know her happiness and trust would be rebuilt or destroyed tonight. His thumb circled her clit and he began his leisurely pace, observing the way her body arched and writhed in response.
Sarah lost count of the times she was brought to pleasure. Her skin glistened with sweat. Every plea of "I can't" was met with "You will" and she did over and over until she no longer recognized the rapturous voice issuing from her throat, ringing in her ears. It was only when she was limp and tired that Jareth increased the cadence of his thrusting. He loomed over her, his elbows propping him, body covering her length creating a delicious friction as he sought his own pleasure.
He whispered praise and worship in her ear, the deep timbre of his voice sending shivers down her already quivering body. Her eyes focused for a brief moment on his face, taught with pleasure, brows furrowed. She cupped his cheek, their eyes meeting before his rolled back. His thrusting became erratic. Grunting growls filled her ears, his weight crushing her, muscles contracted as he pulsed inside her, coming deep within her.
She sighed as he moved to lay next to her. She let exhaustion prevail, welcoming the oblivion that would forbid her mind from dwelling on all the emotions and events that transpired that day. It was too much. Sleep was her only escape before facing her new life with the dawn.
Jareth rolled to his side, pulling Sarah to him. He pressed kisses to her brow as she fell asleep in his arms. Dimming the candles around the room, moonlight shone through the windows illuminating the paleness of her skin.
She was always made to be his. Capturing her was his fate. Together they would usher in a new era for his kingdom. He traced the curve of her hip with his hand, a future full of promise, proliferation, and power. There was nothing he would not gain with her by his side and in return, nothing she would ever need wish for. For now, their kingdom would truly be as great.
Notes: Alright, time to get back to Anam Cara. This was a fun little distraction while sick and recuperating. I've been meaning to write this since posting Ostara. Better late than never.