A Necessary Deception
by Scattered Logic
Disclaimer: Jareth and Sarah belong to Jim Henson. Everyone else is mine.
A special thanks to my oh-so-patient beta, Sara McGee
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When Jareth had said he wanted more from her--when he'd touched her cheek, Sarah had realized that he was trying to frighten her away. She couldn't let him do that. After everything she'd said, to flee would have made it a lie. It was important that she stay with him, particularly at this time and in this place.
But the childish urge to make him back down had been so strong and it had overridden any common sense she had. How could she have ever thought that he would back down? She'd known as soon as she touched her lips to his cheek that she was playing with fire.
When he'd pulled her to him, she began to understand just how dangerous fire could be.
His kiss left no doubt that he wanted her. His tongue firmly stroked against hers and became more demanding as she responded. She wasn't inexperienced, but she'd never been kissed with such intensity before and it was overwhelming. Her hands came up to rest on his back and then clutched at the fabric there.
At her response, his grasp on her waist tightened, pulling her even closer. She could feel him, pressed against her stomach, already beginning to grow hard and ready. A sweet, answering ache settled into her body and she knew she should push him away.
And she would.
Any moment now.
Finally, a small, chaotic part of her mind began screaming at her to stop before she made a fool of herself. She broke the kiss and began to step back.
Jareth's arms held her fast for a moment and he said softly, "Lust is a beginning, but I still want more than that from you."
He released her and she moved away, face flushed and breathing erratic.
"I...I really don't really know you well enough to..." Sarah began and then drew in a shaky breath. She didn't know how to finish that sentence. Have sex with him? Love him? It didn't matter--both answers applied.
"I would like us to know each other," he said. His eyes were dark and they held her transfixed and then his expression softened. "If you will allow it."
Ethain's words rang clearly in her mind. Perhaps...this new friend fails to understand that she wields a great deal more power than she knows.
Sarah examined his face closely. He seemed sincere. Slowly she nodded. "All right."
Glancing away from him, she looked toward the large clock ticking away the thirteen hours. "I'll wait with you, if you want," her voice was soft. "At least, until it's almost time." Her eyes went to the sleeping child.
Jareth followed her gaze. "Considering the circumstances, I would prefer not," he said carefully. "It's very late and you should try to rest."
Sarah nodded and went over to the crib. She gently readjusted the blanket over the girl.
"You'll make sure she gets a good home?" Sarah knew there was no point in pretending that the child would be leaving the Underground.
"Yes. I have a particular couple in mind. They've wanted a child for many years and will be delighted to have a daughter." He walked to Sarah's side and looked down at the girl. "They will consider her a miracle."
Sarah started to ask what would happen to the person still in the labyrinth. Would they remember what had happened? But she found that she couldn't bring herself to speak. She knew she was being a coward, but maybe it was better that she didn't know any more tonight.
She said a soft goodnight to Jareth and then forced herself to leave the throne room without a backward glance.
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Sarah returned to her room and lay on the bed. She hadn't expected to be able to sleep; too much had happened to allow her to relax. But she awoke to the sound of knocking at her door. Stumbling out of bed, she wrapped her robe around her and found Twylla holding her breakfast tray.
Twylla took a long look at her. "You look terrible," she said as she placed the tray on the table.
"I didn't get enough sleep." Sarah said, looking at the food with revulsion. After so little rest, she really wasn't hungry.
"Well, Paslia thinks she'll have one or two of your dresses ready by tonight," Twylla said happily.
"Fine, but I have my own clothes," Sarah repeated wearily. Wouldn't the little goblin ever give up?
Twylla left, muttering under her breath about ungrateful girls and Sarah began picking at her food. Her eyes burned from lack of sleep and she wondered how Jareth was feeling. The challenge would be ending soon.
Sarah felt a surge of sympathy, both for the person who would lose the little girl and for Jareth who was forced to take her. Not now, she thought, I can't think about that right now. Dressing, she went back to the library to wait until the thirteen hours had passed.
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She found the book she'd been reading the day before, but she couldn't concentrate on it. Finally, she leaned her head back on the chair and closed her eyes for a moment.
Someone was gently shaking her shoulder. She woke to find Ethain bending over her.
"Are you all right, Sarah?" He asked, concern in his eyes.
She blinked sleepily and yawned. "I'm sorry. Yes, I'm fine. I guess I drifted off. I didn't get much..." She realized who she was talking to and closed her mouth with a snap.
He smiled. "It's all right. I already know that you didn't follow my instructions to stay in your room last night."
She was suddenly wide-awake. "Is it over? What happened?"
"His Majesty has taken the child to her new parents." Ethain said quietly.
Sarah nodded sadly. "Is he back yet?"
"Yes, he has gone to his chambers to rest; he was very tired. His Majesty asked me to apprise you of the outcome. He knew that you would be curious."
"Thank you," she said.
"It's past lunchtime and I haven't eaten yet. Would you care to join me?" Ethain asked.
She realized she hadn't eaten her breakfast at all. Her accidental nap had helped considerably and the thought of food was more appealing than it had been earlier.
"Could we go back to the gardens?" she asked.
"Of course," he said, smiling and offering her his arm.
She allowed him to escort her out of the library.
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After reading another afternoon away, Sarah returned to her room to get ready for dinner. She had just finished bathing and had slipped on her underwear when she thought she heard the bedroom door opening. Slightly alarmed, she called out, "Is someone there?" She received no answer and peeked around the screen into the room.
She saw Twylla standing in front of the closed armoire with a sly look on her face.
"What's going on?" Sarah asked suspiciously.
"Paslia finished one of your dresses and some underthings. I was putting them away."
"Oh, I guess I should take a look at the dress." Sarah reached out to open the armoire and Twylla hastily covered the handle with her hand.
"I'll get it for you. I'm your maid, after all." Twylla said, trying to brush Sarah's hand away.
"I'm not helpless." Sarah said, irritated, and yanked the armoire open. She stood for a moment in horrified silence and then rounded on Twylla.
"Where are my clothes?" Sarah's eyes narrowed.
"Right there is the dress that Paslia made for you." Twylla said, her own eyes narrowing in return.
"Where are my clothes? My Aboveworld clothes?" Sarah asked, gritting her teeth.
"They're being washed." Twylla said triumphantly.
"All of them?" Sarah was livid.
"It's easier on the laundress if she does them all at once." Twylla was smug.
Sarah looked back into the armoire. A single seafoam green gown hung there, but behind it, something caught her eye. "Ah ha!" She pulled out her bargain basement equivalent of a little black dress.
"You're not wearing that to dinner?" Twylla's triumph faded abruptly.
"Why not?" Sarah asked.
"There's not enough of it to be decent." The goblin gestured toward the dress. "I thought it was an undergarment."
"Explains why it isn't being "washed," huh?" Sarah glared at Twylla. "It's not an undergarment. It's a dress, and it covers up everything important. It's not too low and it's not too short, so what's the problem?" Sarah stepped into the dress and expertly tugged the zipper closed.
"It exposes your knees!" Twylla was scandalized.
Sarah sat in front of the mirror to apply her make up and looked at Twylla in disbelief.
"I'm living here with men who wear leggings. I can tell them apart by portions of their anatomy that I shouldn't even be aware of, and you're worried they'll see my knees?"
"You'll look like a harlot. What's the King to think?" Twylla asked sharply.
At that, Sarah paused. She vividly remembered the feel of Jareth's mouth on hers and the heat of his body. And she remembered her reaction to him. If she showed up dressed inappropriately, what would the King think?
"Okay," she sighed in defeat. "Let's see Paslia's dress."
Twylla quickly took the gown from the armoire and laid it across the bed. It was beautiful, with a square neckline, delicate bell sleeves and a tightly fitted waist. The full slashed skirt had a darker contrasting underskirt.
"You'll need some proper undergarments." Twylla said, pulling a corset from a drawer.
Sarah began to shake her head as Twylla advanced on her.
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Jareth paced the dining room. He smiled as he remembered Sarah's reaction to him last night. She continued to surprise him, she'd responded so passionately. He sighed. Lust was easy. The important question still remained, could she be convinced to love him?
He'd never before had to prove himself to a woman. It made him feel a curious combination of nervousness and anticipation. He considered the best way to win her heart. Instinct told him that, ultimately, elaborate gifts of jewelry or other trinkets would prove meaningless. Sarah was so different from the jaded women of his past.
She would require something special, something unique.
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Sarah nervously stood outside the dining room. She couldn't hear anyone talking, so maybe she'd gotten there before everyone else. She glanced down at the neckline of the gown. It was quite a bit lower than she was comfortable with.
The corset she was wearing didn't help. Twylla had finally convinced her that it was needed to give the gown its proper shape. While Sarah grudgingly admitted that it certainly narrowed her waist and pushed her breasts up to new heights, Twylla had laced her into it so tightly that Sarah couldn't take a deep breath.
She reached a hand up and carefully made sure her hair was still in place. The goblin maid had fashioned it into an intricate style of curls and loose tendrils that suited the gown very well, but made Sarah afraid it was going to come tumbling down at any moment.
Deciding that no one else had arrived yet, she walked into the dining room and found Jareth waiting inside. She obviously wasn't the only one who had dressed more formally than usual. He wore a black frock coat over a white shirt, with tightly fitted black pants. While somewhat austere, it complimented him very well.
Jareth looked at her and his eyebrows shot up.
"If you laugh, I swear I'll take a sword and run you through," Sarah warned.
His expression becoming serious, he slowly looked her over. She noticed his eyes lingering a moment on her cleavage and she could feel herself blushing.
"You look very beautiful," Jareth said quietly.
"Thank you." A mischievous impulse came over her and she tilted her head and gave him a similarly thorough inspection. "You look very nice."
He gave her a lazy smile and purred, "I'm pleased you approve." He crossed the room and lifted her hand to his lips. His eyes gleamed, "I do want to make certain you're satisfied."
A slow heat flared low in her stomach at his tone. Turning away quickly, she saw that the dining table had only two place settings.
"Aren't Ethain and Brennan having dinner with us?" She asked.
"No, Brennan is having a dinner meeting with his command staff to go over the results of his inspection. Ethain is taking documents to the High King. He'll be offered a meal and court custom will demand that he take dinner there."
"So, it will be just the two of us tonight," Sarah said slowly.
"Does that displease you?" Jareth asked.
"No, it doesn't," she said honestly.
He went to her chair and held it out for her. "Are you ready to dine?"
"Actually, I am, but the way Twylla has me cinched into this...this...thing, I'm not certain I can eat. I can barely breathe. It's no wonder that women used to faint so much." Sarah said as he slid the chair under her.
Jareth leaned down. Through the silk of her dress, he slowly traced one finger over the zigzag of laces at her back. His voice velvety in her ear, he said, "If you find it uncomfortable, I would be happy to loosen the stays for you."
Sarah turned her head and looked at him with a smirk, "Nice try, but I don't think so."
"Oh, Sarah," he laughed softly and his eyes held a promise, "I haven't even begun to try."
Her mouth went dry.
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By tacit agreement, they'd avoided the topic of the previous night's events. Jareth had attempted to explain the intricacies of the Seelie Court to her, but she'd finally held up her hand in surrender.
"Too many names to keep straight," Sarah laughed. "How do you keep track of all these people and their alliances?"
"Training, I suppose," he said, "and the fact that I've been dealing with them from birth."
Jareth saw that she had finished her dessert and suggested a walk in the gardens. "It's such a pleasant evening."
She held his arm as they walked among the flowers; a quarter moon sliced the night sky and the stars twinkled brightly. Torches flickering intermittently along the walkways provided soft light.
"It's so nice here," she said as she inhaled the heady fragrance of so many flowers blended together in the air. It was so strange to be here like this, she thought, dressed in a gown suitable for royalty, walking with a king through a garden in a fairytale land.
"May I ask, is there a suitor in the Aboveworld wondering where you are?" Jareth asked.
"No, no suitor," Sarah said. At his surprised look, she said, "Well, it's not as if I've never had a boyfriend, I just don't have one currently."
She hesitated before continuing. "My family is going to wonder where I am, though. They probably don't even know that I'm gone yet, but they'll figure it out pretty soon. They're going to think something terrible has happened to me."
Sarah remembered the half-finished list left on her nightstand, and the copies of test results and medical paperwork she'd left in her apartment. "Oh god, they're going to think I'm dead." She glanced away from him and blinked back sudden tears.
Jareth looked uncomfortable for a moment. "I am sorry that your family will experience that pain, but I cannot say that I regret bringing you here."
"I never got to tell them goodbye. I wish that Toby could know that I'm still alive," Sarah said softly. She brushed at her eyes and then looked back at him. "Please, can we change the subject?"
"Of course, what would you like to discuss?" His voice was sympathetic.
"Well, what about you? Do you have a girlfriend, or whatever they're called here?" She asked.
"No," he said with a small smile. "I have no current involvement."
"I'm surprised, you probably have women throwing themselves at you," Sarah said.
Jareth raised an eyebrow and smirked.
"I meant because you're a king and going to be High King." She said quickly. She gave a smirk. "Not that you're totally unappealing," she teased gently.
His smile widened. "I'm not certain that was a compliment."
Sarah laughed.
Jareth stopped at one of the flowerbeds and selected a beautiful ivory lily with pale pink variegations running through the petals. He quickly snapped the flower's stem and presented it to her with a flourish.
As she took it, his gloved fingers brushed hers. Sarah thanked for him for the flower and then asked curiously, "Why do you always wear gloves? Ethain and Brennan don't wear them."
He glanced down at his hands and shrugged. "It's customary among the rulers of the various kingdoms. I'm not certain why, but to go without them is considered a dire breach of etiquette. I don't wear them when I sleep or bathe." Jareth looked at her and his mouth curved into a dangerous smile, "And there is, of course, one other activity for which I remove them."
Her eyes were drawn irresistibly to his hands, wondering what they looked like without the gloves. They would probably be so soft to the touch. She bit her lip at the thought. She quickly lifted her eyes back up to his and saw that his smile had turned into a knowing grin.
"Do you flirt instinctively? Is that it?" Sarah's voice was exasperated, but she smiled.
"Why, Sarah, I don't believe I was flirting," he said, giving her a wounded look. "But I can begin, if you would like."
She started to laugh. "You're incorrigible."
"Only with certain people." His expression became serious and her breath caught in her throat. The atmosphere between them was suddenly charged.
Her eyes dropped to his lips and went back to his eyes. Jareth leaned forward slightly and she began to tilt toward him. He reached out and brushed a strand of hair away from her eyes.
"It's getting late, Sarah," he said softly. "We've both had a very long day. I'll escort you to your room."
"Oh, okay," she said, disappointed. Wasn't he going to kiss her?
He walked her back to her room and bowed formally over her hand. "Goodnight, Sarah. Sleep well."
"Goodnight," she said. Opening the door behind her, she entered her room.
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Jareth went to his office and began to review the day's paperwork. He hadn't had a chance to look at it earlier, preferring to sleep a few hours before seeing Sarah at dinner. He smiled to himself; the relationship seemed to be progressing. She had teased with him again and had allowed him to tease her in return.
He hadn't failed to see the flash of disappointment when he'd touched her hair instead of kissing her. He'd hated to waste the opportunity, but her anticipation would work to his advantage. She would wonder why he didn't kiss her and that would keep him in her thoughts.
His smile faded as he remembered how she had spoken of her family. She'd tried to hide her tears from him, but he had seen them glittering in her eyes. An idea formed in his mind. He knew it could be done, but he had never attempted it with a mortal.
It was said to be dangerous, but there might be a way to grant her wish.
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Marcan stood watching as Vivienne examined bolts of cloth spread out over the furniture in her sitting room. She was having another dress made, he thought, surely she hadn't worn half the garments already in her wardrobe.
"I have the information you wanted," he said coolly.
Vivienne looked up in anticipation. "Well, who is she? Who is Jareth seeing?"
"He isn't just seeing her. She's living in the castle with him."
"Who is she?" Vivienne demanded.
Marcan smiled. "Her name is Sarah." He deliberately prolonged the moment, casually fingering a length of aquamarine satin resting on a high table. "She's human."
Vivienne rolled her eyes. "I don't know where you obtained this information, but it must be incorrect. Jareth doesn't involve himself with mortal women. He's always said he has far too many dealings with humans as it is."
Marcan sighed. "Well, he's involved himself with this one. And because she wished herself away to him specifically, he's the only one who will be involved with her." He shrugged, "Unless he were to give her away, of course."
She looked at him skeptically. "Who told you all this?"
"It doesn't matter who told me. The information came through the servants. As I've pointed out on more than one occasion, you should really make an effort to be kinder to them. They know virtually everything; there's usually one or two listening at the door. And they do so love to gossip."
Vivienne sneered. "Well, it's no matter. If Jareth is having a dalliance with a mortal, he'll soon grow bored and send her back."
"That would be a bit of a problem, my dear." Marcan looked at her innocently. "It seems that this is her second trip to the Underground."
"What?" Vivienne looked surprised.
Marcan's eyes grew cold. "It's obvious what this means, Vivienne. It's apparent that my cousin wants to assure himself an heir."
"That's just a tale, it isn't possible," she said vehemently. "I'm certainly not aware of it ever happening."
"You're not aware of it happening because you are disinterested in any topic other than yourself. It is quite possible. It's simply that it's very rare for a mortal to come to the Underground for a second time." Marcan walked over to his half-sister and looked down at her.
"Humans are notoriously prolific," he continued. "And because this woman cannot leave the Underground, any child she bears Jareth will be born Sidhe, not human." Marcan's voice was relentless.
"He...he might have a child with her, but surely he would never go so far as to marry her." Vivienne's uncertain tone belied her words.
"Of course he would." Marcan regarded her with contempt. "A prince of the Sidhe isn't going to allow his heir to be born a bastard, even if the child's mother is human."
Vivienne looked shaken.
His eyes narrowing, Marcan reached out and touched Vivienne's hair in an almost affectionate gesture. "There may, however, be a solution to your little dilemma."
"What do you mean?" she asked quickly.
"Humans are so fragile, you know," he smiled. "The least little thing proves fatal to them..." His voice trailed off.
Vivienne looked at him silently for a long moment.
"Well, go on," she finally said.
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