Well, I meant to have this out last week. But with one thing and another, I've kept putting it off. Let's see. . . A big gracias to Unicorn Lady for correcting my Spanish so far. I needed that. Just a note: To the Victor is on my webpage (www.geocities.com/ladymage_s) and will always be current with what's on ff.net. Sometimes, it may even be ahead! :p So, no theme today, just round up the disclaimers & brand 'em. Have fun!
Ladymage ;)
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Part 29 ~ I Challenge You -- to a Duel
Jareth simply looked at her, amused. Then he heard a voice behind him. "I wonder what her basis for comparison is." He whirled to find Sarah and Libertad grinning at him. He pulled himself up and once again his face schooled itself closed. It was almost perfect save for the slight flush on his cheeks.
"Did she say what I think she said?" he asked.
Sarah nodded. "I translate: 'That's not fair!'"
"All is fair in love and war," he returned.
"So which one is this?" she asked.
Jareth walked slowly up to her, noticing how tense she became as he stood inches away. A gloved hand reached out. He tapped her shoulder. "Tag. You're it."
"Jareth!" she screamed at him as he darted away. "I'll get you for that!" She ran after him.
Libertad joined the group of women preparing supper and watched with them as Sarah and Jareth ran back and forth across the clearing, Sarah swearing as she doggedly pursued a taunting Jareth.
"Those two will make a match of it," Maria commented.
"Probably," Libertad replied, unruffled. "We just need to speed things up a bit."
Francisca, a tall, thin woman, added, "We've never had a problem before." Laughter accompanied the ongoing work of hands and feet and curious eyes.
On the far side of the field, Sarah was getting thoroughly fed up with the infuriating Fae. Whose bright idea was it to make men taller with longer legs? Finally, with a last burst of strength, she tackled him, taking a highly surprised Jareth to the ground with her.
He looked at his now torn and grass-stained shirt. "Wench! This was my favorite shirt!"
"You asked for it!" Sarah retorted. "And who are you calling a wench? Take that back!"
"Never!" cried Jareth as the two began to wrestle, rolling across the grass.
"You're holding back," Sarah accused him as they fought.
He grinned. "How do you know?"
"I. . .can tell," she gasped. "Now. . . Stop. . . patronizing . . .me. . .and. . .fight like a man!" Jareth simply grinned wider in response, though moments later, Sarah found the fight more difficult.
They were soon surrounded by a ring of young children and teenagers, their brightly coloured shirts and blouses glowing in the twilight. Many of the older children remembered Sarah from her earlier stay and cheered for her, chanting her name. The younger ones, led by Teresa, were undeniably on Jareth's side. Back and forth the pair went, shouting challenges at each other, landing what blows they could.
It wasn't long before Jareth was able to duck a wild blow and sweep Sarah's legs from under her. She landed heavily on her back with Jareth over her.
"Do you yield?" he asked, winded.
Exhausted, she said, "Yes."
"Good," he replied, before sinking down to lay beside her. Both were in pretty sorry shape, their clothes torn and grass stained, bruises beginning to appear in between the dirt smudges on their cheeks. Jareth's condition was not improved by the small, heavy object that hurtled through the crowd and landed on his stomach.
"Felicidades, Jareth!" Teresa yelled in his ear.
"Oof," Jareth replied.
Sarah turned her head to look at the man next to her. As she took in the stains and bruises, the grassy tangle of his hair, and the slightly pained expression as Teresa continued to perch on top of him, she began to giggle.
"What," Jareth asked in a highly dignified tone, "are you laughing at?"
Sarah only laughed harder.
Conjuring a crystal mirror, Jareth took a good look. In spite of himself, he, too, began to chuckle. It was much easier once the weight on his stomach was lifted off and his laughter rang out over the caravan.
"All right, you two miscreants." The pair were rapped on the chest with a wooden spoon. "It's time for dinner. Go wash." Dona Maria smiled at them, then retreated.
Jareth gave Sarah a questioning look. She choked out, "It's time for dinner. We've been ordered to wash up."
"Ah, I see," Jareth replied, standing. He sobered somewhat, but there was still a generous smile on his face. Sarah grinned back at him.
"You should see yourself trying to look dignified," she told him. "You almost pull it off."
"Almost?" He lifted a questioning eyebrow.
"You've got tears in your breeches, grass stains on your shirt, and leaves in your hair. You're a mess. No one else could even try to pull it off."
"Your honesty is appreciated, my lady," he said. "Shall we clean up?"
"Sure." Sarah began to walk towards her grandmother's trailer. Jareth stopped her.
"There is," he grinned, "a much easier method." With a flick of his wrist, he produced a crystal, which exploded in a cloud of diamond glitter. When it had settled, Sarah and Jareth were immaculate, Sarah in a topaz silk ballgown, Jareth resplendent in wine-red velvet and cream satin.
"I think you overdid it," Sarah murmured.
Jareth looked at himself blankly. "Yes, I suppose I did." While they both looked elegant and suited his sense of style, he had not intended to create anything this elaborate. Though he had to admit, that off-the-shoulder (and nearly off-the-bosom) look was absolutely breathtaking on the girl. With a regretful last glance (after all, what were his chances of getting her to wear that thing voluntarily?) he conjured another crystal to clothe them in something less ostentatious.
A Goblin Lord in black linen offered a Goblin Queen in blue denim his arm and the two made their way to dinner.
