Nothing happened. Well, nothing sparkly and mind-blowing like Sarah had expected. She held the ring in her fingers. The metal was surprisingly warm.
"Here, child," Jareth said, not unkindly, and he took the ring and placed it on her finger. The silver was warm and heavy; the ring catching the milky light of the room and making it dance.
"I'm not a child. You said so yourself," Sarah shot back, but her voice still held the dreaminess of when she nearly defied him with the words. She sounded tired, almost in a trance.
"I said nothing of the sort," Jareth replied. "I said that you were a grown girl, and that much is undeniably true. But, sweet Sarah, there are differences between a grown woman and a grown girl. You are still very much a child."
"Then what do you want with me?" she shot back, the temper of before showing through.
The Goblin King smiled, but it was not a cruel gesture. "For the astounding woman you will become, of course. You have more than mere potential, Sarah. You have what it takes to become immortal."
Sarah stared at him for a long moment, then shook her head. "I don't understand," she said, sounding weary again.
"You will, in time," Jareth assured her with a flippant air that seemed to make light of her present distress.
He was not standing close to her, but still it seemed too close and she could not think. She took a step back, something that did not go unnoticed by the Goblin King. He allowed it, though, with a slight upturning of his mouth that could be seen as a satisfied smile. His whole being ached for her, with every breath he took it grew stronger, but he couldn't force her. Child that she was, he couldn't overwhelm her. The image of Sarah, her sweet body naked and writhing on his bed, her husky voice calling his name, rushed to his head. But he had to wait, had to be patient. If he touched her now, she would merely be frightened out of her mind. Passion would come later. Now he had to build trust. Jareth smiled. This was the hard part of the game, but that was why he chose her. She would not melt in his arms; she would be a challenge.
But oh, he remembered how she had trembled like a leaf in his arms as they danced, and he remembered her eyes, so clear, so wonderfully hazy though he hadn't touched her skin at all. The magic dance had made her shake, confused at these new feelings. That made him both happy and frustrated—pleased that she responded to his touch but frustrated that a simple dance was almost too much for the girl. How was he to win her over when she turned both wary and trembly at his touch?
"Come," he said, pulling his mind out of its wanderings. "I will show you to your rooms and give you a chance to bid your brother farewell before I send him back to your father."
Sarah followed the king of the goblins down the corridors of his castle, wondering just what it was that she had done. In agreeing to become queen she had saved both Toby and the Labyrinth, but at what price? As much as she wished for a world of make-believe, Jareth frightened her. He was not an adolescent boy like the ones at her high school, but an immortal man, big and powerful and capable of vast cruelty. She looked at the ring, warm on her finger yet visually made of ice and snow. They were bound together, now, and it was her own words that had made it so.
"I would not offer this to anyone else…" his words mocked her. Why say such a thing and in the next instant call her a child?
They stopped in a dim hallway where a single door sat unguarded. Jareth pushed it open and gestured for Sarah to precede him into the room.
It smelled like him, like magic and mystery, and Sarah knew at once that this was his chamber. A large bed on a low dais dominated the atmosphere. It was four-posted, tall, and made of something that looked suspiciously like ivory. It was carved all over with intricate designs—leaves, flowers, long fingered hands, and faces that seemed half-bird and half-human.
To her right was a half-open door. Through it, Sarah saw tiled floors and the edge of an old-fashioned bathtub with clawed feet. To her left she saw bookcases lining the walls. Each was filled with hardbacked books, and they seemed to be color-coordinated rather than placed in any particular order. They melted from red to orange, yellow, green, blue, purple, and right back to red. Sarah's gaze flowed over the rich colors, soaking them up with her eyes. They didn't have color like this Aboveground!
One of the bookcases was tilted ajar, like a secret doorway, and with a glance at Jareth's unreadable face, Sarah stepped further into the bedroom and peered through the bookcase door.
There was a room in there, small but comfortable, with a fireplace and several wide, soft-looking chairs. The walls were, again, lined with bookcases. Here, stopped in the bookcase-doorway, Sarah smiled.
"I will leave you alone, then," Jareth said from right behind her. Sarah jumped nearly out of her skin and whirled around. She hadn't heard him crossing the room; he moved as stealthily as a big cat. Jareth's mouth turned up at the corners, her reaction not lost on him. "There's a bath waiting: go ahead and clean up. You've had a long day."
Sarah merely stared as he caught her left hand—the one with the diamond—raised it in the air, and bowed to her like a gentleman. A gentleman! "There is no need to fear me, Sarah," he said quietly, the hauteur still apparent. "I will not touch you; not until you are ready. I do hold some power over you; you could not say the words. But I won't abuse it. It's your heart I'm after."
With that he turned and simply vanished, leaving her alone. The door swung shut, but there was no click of a lock. Just to be sure, Sarah went to the door and pulled on the handle. It swung open with a light hiss of well-oiled metal, revealing the dim hallway beyond. Satsified that she was not a prisoner, Sarah closed the door again.
She could pretend that everything was all right, so long as she didn't think about the bigger picture. "All I have to do is clean up," she told herself out loud. "I'm not in the middle of the strangest game of my life. I have not just promised my life to the Goblin King. Just have to clean up."
Late afternoon sunlight, rich red-gold, covered everything and made the ivory bed seem to glow richly. Sarah crossed to the bathing room, peered in, and entered. The floor was flawless tile, deep blue and translucent rather than opaque. The bathtub was pure white edged in silver. She passed a hand over the porcelain lion's head carving on the wall beside the tub. As her fingers touched it, a stream of water shot out of its mouth, emptying into the bathtub. The scent of sandalwood accompanied it.
After hunting in the darkly paneled cupboards, Sarah found several large, plushy hunter-green towels. She took one, and the bar of light brown soap sitting on the shelf. It looked as if it had never been used, the edges still sharply defined.
The tub now full of steaming, scented water, the lion-spigot stopped flowing. Hands trembling, Sarah slowly removed her shoes and shirt. Not knowing what else to do and still nervous about being in his—stop! an unknown bathroom, Sarah showed visible reluctance as she shed the rest of her clothing and stepped into the water.
The temperature was perfect, and she melted as she sank down into the tub. The heady smell of the sandalwood enveloped her, and Sarah thought she would die happy if she could just stay here forever. She sighed happily and closed her eyes, content to simply soak for a while.
*****
Jareth paced his throne room, impatiently waiting as the goblins readied the banquet hall for Sarah's first formal appearance. He could easily have done it with just a wave of his hand, but it was far more fun to have his cronies do it for him. After all, what good was it to have subjects if one did not put them to good use?
His thoughts drifted to Sarah, bathing now in his bathroom. He considered using a crystal to watch her, but then decided against it. When she appeared before him for real, it would be that much better. Still, his imagination supplied him with how he knew she would look, milky skin slightly reddened by the hot water. Her hair would be a wet, sleek cover slinking over her back, the feminine muscles in her shoulders moving under her skin like silk. He pictured her long legs first stretched out, then bent so that her knees peeked above the level of the water. He imagined her eyelashes, beads of water dripping off them like perfect diamonds, and tiny streams of water running down her throat, between her swelling breasts…. Jareth closed his eyes and shook his head, willing the apparition to go away. Soon, he promised himself. Soon, he would know for real the feel of her skin, the taste of her, and he would never have to hold back his desire again.