Disclaimer: I own nothing from "Labyrinth". The femur is mine.
Chapter 12
Sarah's presence struck Jareth like a bolt of lightening. She was alive after all! Jareth wanted to sing. Jareth wanted to dance. But where was she?
Jareth called again into the darkness and again received silence for an answer. He reached out with his senses and started to trace her. Heavens! She was only twenty feet away! But something was wrong. Jareth fueled his light spell a little brighter and transported himself toward the spot where her essence glowed most strongly.
When he saw the crumpled form lying in a heap on a landing, Jareth's heart stopped in his chest. He rushed to Sarah and gathered her tenderly into his arms to check for injuries. She was still breathing and seemed to be deeply asleep. He felt over her limbs and quickly discovered her broken bone and twisted ankle. Then he saw the giant femur Sarah had been using as a cane lying off to the side. He guessed that if she had been carrying something like that with her she might well have been injured before she ever left the oubliette. Or she might have been planning to clout him over the head with it the moment she saw him. Not that he would blame her. His future bride was nothing if not resourceful.
Speaking of resourceful, he wondered how in the world she had hidden her presence from him. He didn't sense any spells or magical artifacts. There wasn't anyone in his kingdom powerful enough to cloak her presence like that except himself. Curiouser and curiouser.
Focusing his mind on Sarah's ankles, Jareth took off his gloves and stroked his hands lightly over them, allowing power to flow through his fingertips into her body. He started to feel a glow inside like sunshine. Healing spells often refracted a little onto the caster which made it easier to keep the enchantment going. A golden light slowly engulfed the two of them as Jareth moved his power up the rest of Sarah's body, tending to cuts and scrapes. He felt like pond scum as he healed the bruises on her wrists - bruises he knew he had caused with his own hands. Once Sarah's healing was complete, Jareth lifted her to his chest and whispered a few words. With a shower of stardust, the two of them appeared in Jareth's bedroom.
Jareth carried Sarah to the bed that would soon belong to both of them. He was at a loss. How could he ever win her forgiveness after what he had done? He truly had never meant to hurt her, just teach her a lesson. And their relationship had even been going so well before, all things considered. He knelt down on the bed beside her and traced the shape of her lips with his fingers.
Sarah's eyes slowly cracked open. She felt wonderful. Not only did she not feel any pain, she felt like she had just received a massive dose of sunshine, springtime and tweeting birds. For a moment she thought she might be dead. Which wasn't all that bad if it felt this good.
Then she felt a gloved finger trace over her lips and pulled back with a gasp.
"You!" she hissed. Okay, so she wasn't dead.
For a moment Jareth didn't know what to say. He knew his actions had been inexcusable.
"Yes, me. Whom were you expecting?"
"The Angel of Death might have been nice," she rejoined bitterly. Well, maybe she was being a little overdramatic, but he deserved it. Assuming he would even care.
Jareth winced.
"Sarah, I am a king and as any monarch, I expect respect and obedience from all of my minions - including you. Dropping you into an oubliette was certainly a less painful way of proving a point to you than some of my more standard methods - unless you would like an introduction to a few of those?" Goblin dung. That was just a lovely way to tell her he was sorry.
Sarah was in such a rage that she didn't care what happened to her anymore. "Perhaps you had better introduce me to a few of your 'other methods', just so I can know what to expect from such a loving husband."
Her words hit Jareth like a physical blow.
"Sarah." he grasped her arms and pulled her to him. He had to make her understand how sorry he was. Dammit. He was new at this whole admitting-he- had-been-an-ass thing. Sarah didn't resist him. She just looked at him with those unrelentingly cruel eyes.
"Sarah.please.I don't want to be your adversary. I.I lo-" Jareth stopped himself. He couldn't just tell her THAT could he? Then she would know the power she had over him. He started over. "I am your king. You will do as I say. I was wrong to drop you into an oubliette. I'm sorry." Well, not exactly humble words, but the best he could do.
Sarah had been watching him calmly, but her mind had been racing. She sensed that this might be a moment that she could get a concession from the man. He was apologizing to her after all and seemed badly shaken if his white face and trembling hands were any indication. Her glance never wavered from his as she gambled.
"Jareth, you have asked me to be your queen and rule by your side, yes?"
Jareth's eyes narrowed. What scheme was brewing inside that lovely head of hers this time?
"Yes," he said warily.
"You expect me to share your bed and give myself to you willingly as your wife, am I right?"
"I do." His whole body sprang to life at the thought of it actually.
"I cannot marry a man who drops me into oubliettes and then threatens me with 'other methods' of enforcing my 'obedience'. I cannot be your queen by your side if you only intend to order me about and torture me however you see fit if I disagree with you. I could never, never come willingly to the bed of any man who would abuse me."
This gamble was a big one. Sarah was betting that Jareth must want to marry her for some reason he had not revealed to her - otherwise why even offer her the option of becoming his wife? He could have had her as a slave easily enough if that was what he truly wanted. He certainly didn't love her but he must have some other motivation for offering her marriage; and she had staked everything on the hope that whatever he wanted from her, he wanted it badly enough to agree to a bargain. If marrying Jareth was what she had to do to see her own world again, she would do it - but on her own terms.
"Sarah, are you telling me that you won't be my wife?" Jareth's tone was cool but he felt himself dying in slow, excruciating little bits.
"No," Sarah stated, tone equally cool. "I'm telling you that I won't tolerate your abuse. I'm not one of your minions, Jareth. I am your queen."
His queen. Jareth went very still. She wasn't refusing him. She wasn't exactly offering the obedience he expected in his queen either. He tried to put himself in her position. He didn't think she knew his feelings for her, but he imagined that she might have guessed there was something at stake on his side. He supposed if he were in her position, he might look for some kind of guarantee that he wouldn't be tossed into any more holes as well. She needn't have worried, but ah well.
"Very well. Then I've brought you a gift." Jareth pulled a crystal from the air and to his shock, felt it shatter in his hand. What in the hell had done that? He sensed a powerful magic force around them, but it was only just that - raw and unguided. He looked up at Sarah and saw that she had dragged herself clear over to the other side of the bed where she sat watching him with stark terror in her eyes. Could that force have come from HER? Surely not. No human - even one turned fae - would have magic on a scale that could shatter one of his crystals. His spell had been harmless enough besides. He had only intended to give Sarah an engagement gift, albeit one with magical properties.
Some kind of magic was running loose though. He would have to find out what it was. But first things first.
"Sarah," he started, slowly spinning a new crystal in front of her. "You have my solemn vow that I will never harm you or allow harm to come to you. As my wife, you will be under the most powerful magical protections I can spin around you - even if those spells are protecting you from me." The crystal collapsed in Jareth's hand and Sarah drew closer to see what he was holding. Her mouth fell open in surprise at the beautiful ring in his palm. She couldn't recognize the stones, but they seemed to shimmer with a translucent light of their own. The metal of the band was so fine it looked almost like liquid and was intricately marked with symbols in a language she didn't recognize.
"An engagement ring," Jareth smiled, clasping Sarah's left hand and slipping it onto her ring finger. "The spells in this ring will protect you from most harmful magics, including my own. Of course the spell that holds you to me will remain intact."
"Of course," Sarah said sardonically. Was this guy for real? And why had his crystal shattered the first time? What was THAT? Had he been intending to turn her into an aardvark and thought better of it? She did remember a violent force of energy flowing from her as she had been scrambling away from him.
Wait a minute. Had SHE broken his crystal? She was turning fae after all. Did humans acquire magical abilities if they stayed in the Underground long enough? She was certain Jareth would have mentioned it.and yet maybe not. If she did have magical abilities that could interfere with his own, then he might not want her to find out about them.
Instantly she started formulating a plan. She knew Jareth had a library. Perhaps there were books on magic there? She gave Jareth a radiant smile. It would be easier to get what she wanted from him if they were on good terms.
"Thank you for the ring," she said, trying to sound pleasant.
"My queen deserves no less," he rejoined.
Sarah couldn't resist raising an eyebrow at that comment given the way she had just spent most of her evening. With a great effort, she suppressed the brilliant smart-ass retort that was twitching on the end of her tongue. Instead, she smiled wryly and said, "You told me that I should let you know if there was anything I required. This future queen may need some sturdy crutches to make it through her wedding tomorrow. Anything you might be able to help with?"
Jareth looked down and turned a little red. He knew he had been the worst kind of fool to ever place Sarah in danger. He hoped she would be able to forgive him when she saw just how loving and attentive he could be as a husband. At least he had one nice surprise to offer her this evening.
"Well," he grinned wickedly at her, "I was planning to toss you over my shoulder for the ceremony."
Sarah's eyes went huge. He wouldn't.
"But I thought you might prefer to walk so everyone can see your lovely gown."
With that, Jareth drew her to her feet.
He could have knocked Sarah over with a feather. She was standing - really STANDING - pain free. She tried hopping from one foot to the other and then in a fit of relief, did a little jig.
"How." Sarah turned questioning eyes toward the king, who was watching her with a broad smile.
"Perhaps I'm not the wicked sorcerer you think I am," he said gently.
Sarah gave him a doubtful look.
"Well, at least not all the time." Jareth looked at her sheepishly.
This time, Sarah couldn't resist a genuine smile. He did look as if she'd given him a scare. Well good. Maybe he would think twice before dropping her in an oubliette next time.
Maybe.
She simply had to get into that library.
"Thank you, Jareth," Sarah said sweetly, reminding herself to stay on Jareth's good side. "Now I'm really feeling quite tired."
"Ah, yes. Well, I'll send someone to help you with your gown in the morning."
"Thank you."
She turned to go into her room and was stopped by a gloved hand on her shoulder.
"Sarah, I do give you my promise that I will never do anything like that again."
She looked up at him from where she stood and was startled by the tenderness and sorrow in his eyes. There was something else there too, something so powerful that she wasn't sure she wanted to face it. Sarah didn't know if she could trust Jareth's word or not, but decided that now was not the time to press a point.
"Goodnight, Jareth," she said as she slipped from beneath his hand.
"Goodnight, my love."
Jareth couldn't resist one tender caress of her hair as she turned to go.
Sarah suppressed a shudder. She couldn't believe the desire that burst into flame inside her at his slightest touch. What was worse, she couldn't believe she had that kind of reaction to someone who could put her through physical and emotional hell without even blinking.
At that thought, Sarah made her first bold, queenly decision. Whatever she felt, she wasn't going to deal with it tonight. Okay, so that wasn't really bold, but she had to get some sleep before her (gulp) wedding night.
Thinking of her wedding night was enough for Sarah to pour herself another decanter of wine, down it in three swallows and collapse on the sheets. Hmmm.these sheets smelled.strange.like.pine trees and grass and starlight and oranges and cinnamon and sunshine.what WAS that heavenly scent? Shit. It was HIS scent. Feeling certain that she should give up on sleep altogether, Sarah promptly passed out.
Chapter 12
Sarah's presence struck Jareth like a bolt of lightening. She was alive after all! Jareth wanted to sing. Jareth wanted to dance. But where was she?
Jareth called again into the darkness and again received silence for an answer. He reached out with his senses and started to trace her. Heavens! She was only twenty feet away! But something was wrong. Jareth fueled his light spell a little brighter and transported himself toward the spot where her essence glowed most strongly.
When he saw the crumpled form lying in a heap on a landing, Jareth's heart stopped in his chest. He rushed to Sarah and gathered her tenderly into his arms to check for injuries. She was still breathing and seemed to be deeply asleep. He felt over her limbs and quickly discovered her broken bone and twisted ankle. Then he saw the giant femur Sarah had been using as a cane lying off to the side. He guessed that if she had been carrying something like that with her she might well have been injured before she ever left the oubliette. Or she might have been planning to clout him over the head with it the moment she saw him. Not that he would blame her. His future bride was nothing if not resourceful.
Speaking of resourceful, he wondered how in the world she had hidden her presence from him. He didn't sense any spells or magical artifacts. There wasn't anyone in his kingdom powerful enough to cloak her presence like that except himself. Curiouser and curiouser.
Focusing his mind on Sarah's ankles, Jareth took off his gloves and stroked his hands lightly over them, allowing power to flow through his fingertips into her body. He started to feel a glow inside like sunshine. Healing spells often refracted a little onto the caster which made it easier to keep the enchantment going. A golden light slowly engulfed the two of them as Jareth moved his power up the rest of Sarah's body, tending to cuts and scrapes. He felt like pond scum as he healed the bruises on her wrists - bruises he knew he had caused with his own hands. Once Sarah's healing was complete, Jareth lifted her to his chest and whispered a few words. With a shower of stardust, the two of them appeared in Jareth's bedroom.
Jareth carried Sarah to the bed that would soon belong to both of them. He was at a loss. How could he ever win her forgiveness after what he had done? He truly had never meant to hurt her, just teach her a lesson. And their relationship had even been going so well before, all things considered. He knelt down on the bed beside her and traced the shape of her lips with his fingers.
Sarah's eyes slowly cracked open. She felt wonderful. Not only did she not feel any pain, she felt like she had just received a massive dose of sunshine, springtime and tweeting birds. For a moment she thought she might be dead. Which wasn't all that bad if it felt this good.
Then she felt a gloved finger trace over her lips and pulled back with a gasp.
"You!" she hissed. Okay, so she wasn't dead.
For a moment Jareth didn't know what to say. He knew his actions had been inexcusable.
"Yes, me. Whom were you expecting?"
"The Angel of Death might have been nice," she rejoined bitterly. Well, maybe she was being a little overdramatic, but he deserved it. Assuming he would even care.
Jareth winced.
"Sarah, I am a king and as any monarch, I expect respect and obedience from all of my minions - including you. Dropping you into an oubliette was certainly a less painful way of proving a point to you than some of my more standard methods - unless you would like an introduction to a few of those?" Goblin dung. That was just a lovely way to tell her he was sorry.
Sarah was in such a rage that she didn't care what happened to her anymore. "Perhaps you had better introduce me to a few of your 'other methods', just so I can know what to expect from such a loving husband."
Her words hit Jareth like a physical blow.
"Sarah." he grasped her arms and pulled her to him. He had to make her understand how sorry he was. Dammit. He was new at this whole admitting-he- had-been-an-ass thing. Sarah didn't resist him. She just looked at him with those unrelentingly cruel eyes.
"Sarah.please.I don't want to be your adversary. I.I lo-" Jareth stopped himself. He couldn't just tell her THAT could he? Then she would know the power she had over him. He started over. "I am your king. You will do as I say. I was wrong to drop you into an oubliette. I'm sorry." Well, not exactly humble words, but the best he could do.
Sarah had been watching him calmly, but her mind had been racing. She sensed that this might be a moment that she could get a concession from the man. He was apologizing to her after all and seemed badly shaken if his white face and trembling hands were any indication. Her glance never wavered from his as she gambled.
"Jareth, you have asked me to be your queen and rule by your side, yes?"
Jareth's eyes narrowed. What scheme was brewing inside that lovely head of hers this time?
"Yes," he said warily.
"You expect me to share your bed and give myself to you willingly as your wife, am I right?"
"I do." His whole body sprang to life at the thought of it actually.
"I cannot marry a man who drops me into oubliettes and then threatens me with 'other methods' of enforcing my 'obedience'. I cannot be your queen by your side if you only intend to order me about and torture me however you see fit if I disagree with you. I could never, never come willingly to the bed of any man who would abuse me."
This gamble was a big one. Sarah was betting that Jareth must want to marry her for some reason he had not revealed to her - otherwise why even offer her the option of becoming his wife? He could have had her as a slave easily enough if that was what he truly wanted. He certainly didn't love her but he must have some other motivation for offering her marriage; and she had staked everything on the hope that whatever he wanted from her, he wanted it badly enough to agree to a bargain. If marrying Jareth was what she had to do to see her own world again, she would do it - but on her own terms.
"Sarah, are you telling me that you won't be my wife?" Jareth's tone was cool but he felt himself dying in slow, excruciating little bits.
"No," Sarah stated, tone equally cool. "I'm telling you that I won't tolerate your abuse. I'm not one of your minions, Jareth. I am your queen."
His queen. Jareth went very still. She wasn't refusing him. She wasn't exactly offering the obedience he expected in his queen either. He tried to put himself in her position. He didn't think she knew his feelings for her, but he imagined that she might have guessed there was something at stake on his side. He supposed if he were in her position, he might look for some kind of guarantee that he wouldn't be tossed into any more holes as well. She needn't have worried, but ah well.
"Very well. Then I've brought you a gift." Jareth pulled a crystal from the air and to his shock, felt it shatter in his hand. What in the hell had done that? He sensed a powerful magic force around them, but it was only just that - raw and unguided. He looked up at Sarah and saw that she had dragged herself clear over to the other side of the bed where she sat watching him with stark terror in her eyes. Could that force have come from HER? Surely not. No human - even one turned fae - would have magic on a scale that could shatter one of his crystals. His spell had been harmless enough besides. He had only intended to give Sarah an engagement gift, albeit one with magical properties.
Some kind of magic was running loose though. He would have to find out what it was. But first things first.
"Sarah," he started, slowly spinning a new crystal in front of her. "You have my solemn vow that I will never harm you or allow harm to come to you. As my wife, you will be under the most powerful magical protections I can spin around you - even if those spells are protecting you from me." The crystal collapsed in Jareth's hand and Sarah drew closer to see what he was holding. Her mouth fell open in surprise at the beautiful ring in his palm. She couldn't recognize the stones, but they seemed to shimmer with a translucent light of their own. The metal of the band was so fine it looked almost like liquid and was intricately marked with symbols in a language she didn't recognize.
"An engagement ring," Jareth smiled, clasping Sarah's left hand and slipping it onto her ring finger. "The spells in this ring will protect you from most harmful magics, including my own. Of course the spell that holds you to me will remain intact."
"Of course," Sarah said sardonically. Was this guy for real? And why had his crystal shattered the first time? What was THAT? Had he been intending to turn her into an aardvark and thought better of it? She did remember a violent force of energy flowing from her as she had been scrambling away from him.
Wait a minute. Had SHE broken his crystal? She was turning fae after all. Did humans acquire magical abilities if they stayed in the Underground long enough? She was certain Jareth would have mentioned it.and yet maybe not. If she did have magical abilities that could interfere with his own, then he might not want her to find out about them.
Instantly she started formulating a plan. She knew Jareth had a library. Perhaps there were books on magic there? She gave Jareth a radiant smile. It would be easier to get what she wanted from him if they were on good terms.
"Thank you for the ring," she said, trying to sound pleasant.
"My queen deserves no less," he rejoined.
Sarah couldn't resist raising an eyebrow at that comment given the way she had just spent most of her evening. With a great effort, she suppressed the brilliant smart-ass retort that was twitching on the end of her tongue. Instead, she smiled wryly and said, "You told me that I should let you know if there was anything I required. This future queen may need some sturdy crutches to make it through her wedding tomorrow. Anything you might be able to help with?"
Jareth looked down and turned a little red. He knew he had been the worst kind of fool to ever place Sarah in danger. He hoped she would be able to forgive him when she saw just how loving and attentive he could be as a husband. At least he had one nice surprise to offer her this evening.
"Well," he grinned wickedly at her, "I was planning to toss you over my shoulder for the ceremony."
Sarah's eyes went huge. He wouldn't.
"But I thought you might prefer to walk so everyone can see your lovely gown."
With that, Jareth drew her to her feet.
He could have knocked Sarah over with a feather. She was standing - really STANDING - pain free. She tried hopping from one foot to the other and then in a fit of relief, did a little jig.
"How." Sarah turned questioning eyes toward the king, who was watching her with a broad smile.
"Perhaps I'm not the wicked sorcerer you think I am," he said gently.
Sarah gave him a doubtful look.
"Well, at least not all the time." Jareth looked at her sheepishly.
This time, Sarah couldn't resist a genuine smile. He did look as if she'd given him a scare. Well good. Maybe he would think twice before dropping her in an oubliette next time.
Maybe.
She simply had to get into that library.
"Thank you, Jareth," Sarah said sweetly, reminding herself to stay on Jareth's good side. "Now I'm really feeling quite tired."
"Ah, yes. Well, I'll send someone to help you with your gown in the morning."
"Thank you."
She turned to go into her room and was stopped by a gloved hand on her shoulder.
"Sarah, I do give you my promise that I will never do anything like that again."
She looked up at him from where she stood and was startled by the tenderness and sorrow in his eyes. There was something else there too, something so powerful that she wasn't sure she wanted to face it. Sarah didn't know if she could trust Jareth's word or not, but decided that now was not the time to press a point.
"Goodnight, Jareth," she said as she slipped from beneath his hand.
"Goodnight, my love."
Jareth couldn't resist one tender caress of her hair as she turned to go.
Sarah suppressed a shudder. She couldn't believe the desire that burst into flame inside her at his slightest touch. What was worse, she couldn't believe she had that kind of reaction to someone who could put her through physical and emotional hell without even blinking.
At that thought, Sarah made her first bold, queenly decision. Whatever she felt, she wasn't going to deal with it tonight. Okay, so that wasn't really bold, but she had to get some sleep before her (gulp) wedding night.
Thinking of her wedding night was enough for Sarah to pour herself another decanter of wine, down it in three swallows and collapse on the sheets. Hmmm.these sheets smelled.strange.like.pine trees and grass and starlight and oranges and cinnamon and sunshine.what WAS that heavenly scent? Shit. It was HIS scent. Feeling certain that she should give up on sleep altogether, Sarah promptly passed out.