Disclaimer: As we all keep telling each other, I own NOTHING from the
"Labyrinth". Squat.
Author's note: Deep, sincere thanks to all of my reviewers. I get a big, fat hairy goblin in my soup for being so lousy about responding to reviews individually, but I do want you to know that your comments keep me going on this fic and I make every effort to incorporate any comments/constructive criticism I receive into the story as I go along. Thanks to all of you for helping me with my writing and making this story even better than I could have without your sharp eyes and helpful suggestions!!
Chapter 20
Jareth's body instantly went rigid. Sarah felt the change and disentangled herself from his embrace, trying to see his eyes in the dim light, but his expression remained unreadable. Jareth gazed back at her intently for a few minutes, as if searching for an answer in her face. Finally, he spoke.
"Has it turned out so badly, my dear?" he asked.
"What?"
"Our marriage."
It was Sarah's turn to pause. How in the world could she answer that question? She wouldn't call her relationship with Jareth exactly "smooth", but then it certainly wasn't dull either. If nothing else, at least ONE aspect of their relationship seemed to be very healthy indeed. For heavens sake, she'd only been married to him for a week! How could he even ask her a question like that? Sarah looked back over to Jareth and was surprised by the heat in his eyes. He was looking at her as if the fate of the entire Underground was hanging on her answer.
"Jareth," Sarah said gently, "we've only been married for seven days. I think it's a little soon to say that anything has 'turned out' one way or another, don't you?"
Jareth felt as if his heart had just developed a giant crack in it. He loved his wife so much that it was difficult for him to understand how she could still be unsure of her feelings for him. He knew he wasn't exactly being fair, but by that infernal bog, he was the king! He didn't have to be fair!
"But Jareth, you still haven't answered my question yet. Why DID you marry me? I think I have a right to know."
Crap. Trapped. Ack. Arrgh.
Such were the monosyllabic signals shooting out from Jareth's brain.
Jareth's mouth had other ideas.
"Well, love, marrying you put us in a position to be mutually beneficial to each other instead of adversaries. It seemed the wisest choice at time."
Sarah lifted herself off the bed and stared at her husband. His answer was no more or less than what she had expected. So why did she suddenly feel like she was alone, looking out on the labyrinth again from an empty wasteland? Keeping her face carefully blank, she rested her hands on her hips to hide the fact that they were shaking. She had asked the question - she should be woman enough to swallow the answer, no matter how cruel. Surely she hadn't started to hope that Jareth would harbor feelings for her? Why should he?
"I see. Of course," she managed to choke out. "By marrying you I can see my family regularly. And by marrying me, you - well, what exactly was the benefit to you?"
Jareth's brain started to make wheezing noises again. His mouth, still feeling like a swashbuckling hero from the last "rescue" of said brain, leapt into the fray.
"Why, my dear, with you I can produce an heir."
Sarah's eyes narrowed. Fine. If he didn't love her and never would, that was just the way things were and she would accept it. But she knew utter crap when she was hearing it and nothing would make her accept THAT. She felt like a fool for having entertained the notion that Jareth might want her by his side for any but the most practical of reasons and it was high time that she knew exactly what terms her relationship with her husband was based on.
"Jareth, you could produce an heir with any woman you chose to marry. For all you know, I'm barren."
"Sarah-mine, I doubt that you're barren and if you are.well, I have more than enough Goblins so we'd have the opportunity to 'adopt' sooner or later."
The thought of raising a stolen baby was uncomfortable for Sarah although she supposed it might be a more pleasant fate for the child than Goblin- hood; however, she refused to be swayed from her course.
"But you could still produce an heir with any fairy princess - why me?"
Jareth's brain had already turned off and was lying quietly in the fetal position. Mouth brandished its sword and thought about adopting an alias - "Suave Saver"? - "Hot Lips"?
"Well, there was that small issue of you once having triumphed over my labyrinth - ONCE, mind you. I've certainly made a few 'improvements' since your last run through it. However, allowing you, a human, into the Underground and then releasing you - how can I put this? That kind of thing hasn't happened in more than a thousand years and it created an 'interesting' political situation for me. Having you return to the Underground and live at my side as my wife demonstrates your absolute loyalty to me. If the 'conqueror' of the labyrinth has chosen to commit her life to its king, no one in the Underground would dare to question my power."
As he watched Sarah's face, Jareth's Brain started to rouse itself from its stupor. She stood up hastily and started fumbling for her clothes. Her long hair hid her eyes, but he could have sworn he saw a tear trickle down her cheek as she rushed to the other side of the bed to retrieve her slacks.
Mouth was fired. Brain planned to hold auditions for a replacement as soon as possible. Brain fumbled about trying to grab the reins on Jareth's lips.
"Sarah-" the king started.
She ignored him and hastily threw on the rest of her clothes, keeping her face turned away. Her shoulders were shaking with her tears and she swept her long hair over them to hide their trembling. She was furious with herself for crying at all. Of course Jareth would need to prove to his minions that he would not accept defeat from someone who had been only a slip of a mortal girl.
As Sarah looked back on their seven days together, all of Jareth's actions seemed coldly, starkly clear. She now understood why he would force her to return to the Underground with him on the whisper of a wish she had made when she hadn't even been conscious. She thought back to his "generous" offer of marriage. The man hadn't batted an eye at the idea of marrying her after only a day in her company. Jareth had also done everything in his power to make it clear to her that HE was the one in control. He had dropped her into an oubliette when she had defied him and had even tried to prevent her from learning about her new magical abilities to the point of physically overpowering her. Everything made a sick, horrible kind of sense to her now. The only time he had offered her any kind of guarantee that she would not live a life of constant terror had been when he had placed a ring on her hand protecting her from his own magic. And he had offered the ring to her only when he had thought she might refuse to marry him after all.
Realizations clicked through Sarah's mind at lightening speed as she surreptitiously wiped her eyes and fought for her composure. It riled her to no end that after everything he had put her through, Jareth had his queen and that she had been forced to sacrifice her own freedom to fill the role. Wait a minute. Jareth had his queen. She was filling the role. She was QUEEN dammit. That had to be worth something.
"Sarah?" Jareth was truly worried now. His stomach started to tie itself in slow, excruciating knots as the silence dragged on and on between them.
Sarah brushed the tears off her face and stood up straighter. Queen she was and so queen she would be.
"Yes?"
"Are.are you alright?"
Sarah was surprised at the concern in her husband's voice, but chose not to give in to her curiosity. If she started asking herself questions about why he might be concerned for her, those questions would inevitably lead to other questions - like why she would care so much in the first place - that she didn't want to face without at least 200 feet of distance between herself and the man who was still sitting on her bed.
"Of course I'm alright. I'm fine." She didn't quite manage to sound calm, but at least resisted the growing urge to sock Jareth in the jaw.
For the moment.
She shuddered at the thought that her whole abduction and marriage had just been a set-up so that Jareth could prove to the world that he had "conquered" her after she had defeated his labyrinth. She had agreed to the marriage out of desperation and her love for her family. She certainly had NOT intended her marriage to be a public declaration of submission - especially to that infernal Goblin King.
Well, this poor, helpless, CONQUERED maiden had no intention of letting her husband anywhere near her ever again. Although.she thought she might be lonely without some sort of companionship on a daily basis. It really would be nice to have a pet she could keep close by - a dog, or maybe an opossum, or possibly a mink. A mink, yes. Perhaps a lovely golden one with mismatched eyes. She had learned to knit only last year and could keep up her skills by making it little pink sweaters.
With her most aloof and queenly gaze, she turned back to her husband.
Jareth searched her face anxiously, trying to gauge just how badly he had screwed up. He quailed a little as her cool green gaze met his. He couldn't guess what she was thinking, but the icy sweetness in her smile could have frosted a Dairy Queen cake. Apparently he'd screwed up pretty big.
"Well, darling," she oozed, managing to make the endearment sound like slow poison, "I'm a little tired so I think I'll just hop into the bath and then go straight to bed." In another room, far, far away from YOU, she added to herself.
Jareth sensed the danger and was tempted to snatch her straight back into his arms so that they could resolve their differences to his satisfaction, but when he made a move toward Sarah, the sparkle in her eyes was disconcertingly bloodthirsty. She hadn't backed away an inch and was looking at him the same way he would look at a goblin in his tights drawer. Under that gaze, Jareth actually cringed.
Sarah merely snorted in derision and sashayed out the door in the direction of the bathroom.
The goblin king was left splayed across her bed gaping after her.
Oh this was bad.
What to do? He could follow after her, yank her into his arms and show her just how he felt about her. As the thought of doing just that flitted enticingly through his mind, Jareth felt a sinking sensation. Yes, he could easily subdue Sarah while he did whatever he liked, but he couldn't shake the feeling that she would never forgive him if he did. She seemed to have been hurt by his careless words and if that was the case...then she must feel something for him after all. Should he jump for joy or jump off of a bridge now that he had screwed everything up?
Desperation gave him courage and he made his way to the bathroom and knocked.
"Yes?" Her voice sounded muffled, like she was crying.
"Darling, are you alright in there?"
Sarah didn't think Jaws had a habit of attacking people in bathtubs. "I was enjoying a quiet moment TO MYSELF. Thank you."
She wasn't getting rid of him that easily. With a few muttered words, Jareth materialized inside the bathroom. Sarah sat in the tub, head and shoulders rising above a froth of scented bubbles. Yes, her cheeks were wet, but so was everything else. Looking at her eyes, blazing up at him from where she sat, he noticed that they appeared a little red and she had tell-tale splotches on her cheeks. So she had been crying. Jareth felt even more horrible than when he had thrown her into the oubliette. "Sarah...love..." he mumured, moving toward her.
"Don't call me that."
If she had been hissing or screaming at him, he would have been less worried, but her tone was flat and dull, very matter-of-fact, and it send chills through him. He had never seen his Sarah like this before. "I'll call you whatever I like, love. Were my reasons for marrying you such a surprise?"
Sarah sighed. Of course they weren't. When she thought about it, she and Jareth had fought like cats ever since they had been thrown into each other's company again. It was just that somewhere underneath the animosity, during the hours spent navigating foreign diplomacy and family relations together, she had started to feel a connection with the man. It was her own fault that she had imagined that thread of feeling might run both ways. "No, Jareth," she sighed, "your reasons for marrying me were not a surprise. In fact, they make perfect sense. Now if you don't mind, I'd like to continue my bath in peace."
Sarah's bubble cover was dissipating rapidly and that delightful fact did not escape Jareth's notice. "Here, let me wash your back," the king's voice had lowered to a husky rasp. He snatched Sarah's washcloth from her hand and dipping it in the water, gently ran it over her neck and shoulders, leaving a glistening trail of bubbles across her skin. His hands felt so good on her sore muscles, warm and relaxing. She had always been a sucker for a good massage...then she caught herself abruptly. Sarah started to rise out of the water as she felt desire uncoil itself in her belly and start to spread outward through her limbs. Her breasts were tender, nipples erect, and she was already aching with an all-too familiar need. As she started to move away, Jareth caught her shoulders and held her in place.
"My dear, you're so tense. Let me relax you." His fingers were like iron and Sarah knew she didn't have a chance of winning a physical contest between them - especially when she was wet and naked and he was fully clothed down to the boots.
"Jareth, I don't want you to touch me."
Again that flat, frightening tone.
"Shhh..." he whispered, holding her in place by wrapping one arm more completely around her torso while he continued to bathe her gently.
His soft strokes with the cloth over her body were almost more than she could stand. When he shoved up his sleeve so that he could bathe her even further under the water, Sarah had to suppress a moan. In an act of sheer will, Sarah forced herself to focus on the words of their previous conversation. As she recalled the reasons he had given her for why he had wanted to marry her, she felt a blessed numbness steal through her body. She sat very still as her husband continued to wash her, no longer resisting, but no longer responding.
Jareth felt the change and his eyes narrowed. Holding Sarah now required no effort since she was no longer fighting against him, but those little moans and gasps for breath had stopped as well. She simply sat there, looking at him blankly. He dipped lower with the cloth, swirling it over her most intimate places, tracing every curve of her lush body. He sensed her breathing start to quicken again and then slow down to an even, normal rate. What could that little vixen be thinking of to make her icy cold to his attentions?
"Are you finished yet?" she asked him calmly, even sounding a little bored.
"Oh no, my love," he said, pointedly using the endearment, "not even close."
"Well, hurry up. I'm getting cold."
Jareth only grinned wickedly and drew her to her feet. "Anything to oblige," he breathed as he swathed a thick towel around her and commenced to lovingly dry every portion of her body.
As soon as he drew her out of the tub, Sarah made a move to walk away, but he wouldn't allow it. His hands closed over her shoulders yet again and with a sigh, she decided to wait the situation out. By this time her thoughts had made her so cold inside that she was no longer worried about responding to his caresses and was able to endure being toweled off until he slipped her bathrobe over her shoulders. Grateful to finally be covered from his scorching gaze, Sarah again headed toward the door only to be stopped a third time by Jareth as he closed a firm hand above her elbow.
"You're in quite the rush," he said, pulling her tightly to him. One strong arm circled her waist as he reached up with his other hand and released her hair from the clip that had been holding it off of her neck. His fingers snaked through the dark masses, drawing her face closer to his.
Sarah only continued to gaze at him calmly. "I'm tired, Jareth. I'd like to go to bed." And she WAS tired. This whole day had been too much - from drugged peaches wreaking havoc at dinner all the way down to the cold reality of her marriage finally out and on the table.
"Bed? My thoughts exactly," he purred. Sarah felt the air vibrate around her and looked up to find herself in her parents' guest room. Jareth scooped her up in his arms and carried her gently to the bed, feathering kisses over her face and neck. Sarah didn't resist when he laid her down on the bed and slipped the ties of her robe open. Even when his caresses became bolder, she held herself perfectly, coldly still beneath him.
Inside, she seethed with despair and disgust. After everything he had told her about his reasons for marrying her, she still desired him. After all of his efforts to keep her under his power, she had actually thought there could be something more to their marriage than an "arrangement". Oh god, oh god, the loneliness she felt as she looked at the facts was almost overwhelming.
Jareth had removed his shirt and was currently molding himself to her unresisting form. Even as he felt the evidence of his need straining against his jeans, the sense that he had done irreparable damage this night grew inside his gut like nausea. The feeling only made him redouble his efforts. More than anything he had to be close to Sarah, to crush her against him and drink her in. Even as he started to slide his jeans off, he kept one arm firmly around his wife. He was gripped with the irrational fear that if he fully released her for even an instant, she would vanish in front of his eyes.
Sarah, by contrast, was increasingly possessed with the knowledge that she DID NOT want Jareth touching her. It was with every ounce of will that she suppressed the urge to recoil as he pressed himself even closer to her body. She knew that if she struggled, she would only prolong the moment and he would probably enjoy the fight. There was no way she was strong enough to fling her husband away from her, although she WANTED it. As the thought of Jareth flying off of her and across the room became clearer and clearer, Sarah felt a force building deep inside, bubbling toward the surface in sharp little jolts. The desire to shove him away seemed to feed off the energy simmering right beneath her skin, coiling on itself until it felt almost palpable, like an incredibly strong and angry hand.
Seconds later, Jareth was still staring up at the ceiling from his position on the floor some feet away. Whatever that was had knocked the wind out of him and he needed a moment to recover. Slowly, he raised himself up to look dazedly at his wife, still perched on the bed.
Her face registered astonishment, then pleasure, before settling into a chilling look of determination.
"Jareth," she said slowly, as if speaking to his stupidest goblin, "Don't. Touch. Me."
He sat there for a moment, opening and closing his mouth in shock. Then anger set in. He could never hurt his Sarah, but this kind of defiance was absolutely unacceptable. "That, my dear, was most unwise," he hissed. Without ceremony, he lunged for her and was promptly tossed back onto his half-naked butt by the same invisible force. Instantly he conjured a crystal set with an entrapment spell and flung it at his wife. For a moment, her eyes widened in fear and she threw up her hands to protect her head only to hear the crystal shatter in front of her and fall over the bed in harmless bits of glitter. The ring on her hand was so hot it was practically burning her finger.
So he WAS telling me the truth about that ring! she thought, suddenly confused. If he had married her only to prove his dominance over her, then why risk throwing it away by giving her something like that? It's true that he had been worried she would refuse to marry him after that night she had spent in his oubliette, but even so, she knew enough about his magic by now to guess that he could easily have worked around the situation without the risk of giving up his control.
The king muttered a curse. Damn that ring.
Jareth took advantage of Sarah's confusion to lunge at her for a second time. This time, she was only able to hold him at bay by a few inches and he could tell she was getting tired. His wife might be immensely powerful, but she was still raw and inexperienced in the use of magic. Judging from the sweat that now beaded her forehead, he didn't think she could hold him off much longer. Jareth shoved himself relentlessly against Sarah's rapidly weakening magic. Their eyes locked for one instant in heated combat before all the color drained from Sarah's face and Jareth fell forward on top of her. He had yanked her toward him and halfway up off the bed before realizing that her limpness was more than a lack of resistance. She had fainted dead away. His hands gentled and his eyes clouded over with concern as he beheld his alarmingly pale wife, lying unmoving in his arms.
In an instant, he cradled her tenderly against his chest and moved so that he could pull the covers over both of them. He conjured a glass of water and placed it on the bedside table in case she was thirsty when she awoke. He remembered when he had first learned to control his magical talents. There had definitely been an embarrassing time or two when he had knocked himself unconscious with the strain. Of course his brother Damien had always been by his side to splash a little water on his face - or draw a moustache and warts on him with his quill and ink while he was out cold. Ah the joys of childhood.
As he gazed down at Sarah he was at a loss as to what to do next. In a single night, he had managed to ruin all of the hard work he had put in over - well, YEARS if you counted the wishing-the-brother-away incident - to win his wife's heart. Perhaps it was time to tell her how he really felt about her...But did he dare allow himself to be that vulnerable? If his subjects saw that he was in love with his queen, would he then appear weaker before them? She was his now, but everyone in his kingdom had assumed that he had drawn her to his side by the power of his will. He supposed that tying her up and kidnapping her to the Underground would still fall within the "power of his will" parameters, but it was a lot less compelling than the story of "how she could not resist him and had practically begged to be his wife so that she could remain at his side".
Sheesh. Who was he kidding? He couldn't even throw a line like that over on Ludo.
He let out a heavy sigh and then felt something flutter against his chest. Green eyes slowly opened, looking bemusedly into his. Sarah looked so innocent and lovely in his arms that it was physically painful to keep himself from kissing her.
Kissing Jareth was the last thing on Sarah's mind. For a moment, she stared at him, confused as to where she was and then realization swept through her as she tried to jerk herself out of his embrace.
"Go. Get out." Her tone was forceful, but she couldn't manage to fight him with more than the strength of a kitten.
"Sarah, I'm not leaving this room AND - " he barked as with some effort, she swept herself off the bed and toward the door "I can assure you that neither are you."
With that, the lock clicked on the door with unusual force. Sarah reached to unfasten the latch and jumped back as if she had been burned.
"It won't open - even if you do decide to try and burn your hand off."
She turned back to her husband, eyes glittering dangerously.
"Fine. I'll stay. I'm exhausted and the bed in this room is good enough for me - but I won't be sharing it with you."
"My queen, I don't think you have much choice in the matter," Jareth said silkily, crawling over the bed toward her like a large, dangerous feline creature on the prowl.
Sarah leapt to the side and at the same time felt another rush of power tingling from her chest down into her fingertips - weaker than the first, but still there. She felt the release of energy snap through her body and out the palms of her hands and once again, Jareth was tossed away from her and back onto the pillows.
"I wouldn't do that again if I were you." The king's voice was soft but the look on his face was truly frightening.
Without thinking, Sarah darted toward the window. Heaven knows she had snuck out once in awhile as a teenager and she knew the drop wouldn't be that bad. All she wanted in that moment was to put as much distance as possible between herself and the enraged Goblin King who was pursuing her. Just as she reached the glass, the king materialized in front of her and wrapped his arms around her like a cruel vise. She knew she was too weak from her last blast of magic to struggle much and instead turned her focus inward, searching for any power that might be left that she could use to defend herself.
When Jareth saw the look of abject terror on his wife's face, he felt his anger crack. This was all wrong. This was NOT what he wanted - the woman he loved so frightened of him that she would try to jump out a window to escape him. He felt another, pathetically weak trickle of power well up inside Sarah and blocked her latest attempt to knock him over with the flick of a wrist.
Defeated, she sagged in his arms and was shocked when his grip loosened and he guided her gently over to the bed. She had expected him to retaliate against her - or at least to throw her into some magical cage for the night. Instead, he lifted her onto the bed and fluffed the pillows. She tried to pull away as he removed the robe she had hastily snatched around herself during their battle, but he merely slipped it from her shoulders and then slid her exhausted body between the cool sheets and tucked them in around her.
She felt Jareth's weight on the bed and tensed, waiting for him to take advantage of her drained state to do whatever he pleased with her. Instead, he stroked her long hair back from her face and pressed his lips to her forehead.
"Oh, Sarah," he whispered, "I'm so, so sorry. I would never hurt you, love. Please believe that."
Confused and still angry, Sarah made no reply. Jareth just looked at her sadly for a minute, and then picked up one of the pillows on the bed and headed for the dresser on the opposite side of the room. He rummaged in the drawers for a minute or two until he came up with an extra blanket. Sarah flinched as he walked back toward her, but instead of settling next to her in the bed, he continued past her to an armchair in the corner where he curled up with the pillow and blanket.
"Goodnight, Sarah," he said, looking oddly hopeful that she might reply.
Sarah again said nothing and merely stared at him in disbelief.
Jareth sighed and shifted deeper into the cushioning on the armchair. It wasn't as comfortable as a bed, but he'd slept in worse places. Not that he thought he would sleep much tonight. The battle he had just fought with his wife kept playing itself over and over in his mind. Things had seemed to be improving between them until he had told her his reasons for marrying her. Why, oh why, couldn't he have simply told her the truth?
He tried to put himself in her place in the hope that if he could see her side, he might know better what to do. Being high king of the Underground, this was no easy task for Jareth. He had spent a lifetime (that by now had spanned hundreds of years) having others bow and scrape to please HIS whims. The thought of pleasing another hadn't even crossed his head until he had fallen in love with Sarah. Speaking of Sarah, if she hadn't felt much for him, then the reasons he had given her might have pricked her pride, but surely not so much that she would throw him out of her bed. But if she had started to put her animosity aside.if she DID care for him.
His stomach flipped as the possible consequences of what he had told her started to sink in. When he looked at his own behavior, he was torn. He was king. He had every right to rule all of his subjects in the most absolute sense of the word -even Sarah. But ruling Sarah had started to feel all wrong. He wasn't certain when the first hint of doubt had started to creep into his mind - maybe the day they had argued over her coronation ceremony and she had acquiesced to his wishes, but so sadly. The look in her eyes had torn him apart. He couldn't bear the thought of her being utterly miserable and him having been the source of her unhappiness.
His Sarah wasn't a woman who had ever bowed easily to authority. He even thought over her constant defiance with some pride. Imagine - defeating his labyrinth while she was still a child! Running off into the middle of the night to take her magical powers by the horns! Facing all of Fae society as its queen when she had been in the Underground no more than a few days! What a woman!
How must that woman feel about all that had passed between them? His heart sank as he realized that he had basically told her that her marriage to him declared her open submission to his will. Not that he would see that as a bad thing.He caught himself. SARAH would see submission to him as an unimaginable horror. Oh gods.
He tried to appear indifferent, but couldn't keep his worry from his features as he gazed at Sarah, where she lay on the bed. He didn't think she was sleeping yet either, but thought it might be best to let this situation alone for a little while - at least until morning. Even if he told her the truth now, he wasn't certain that she would believe it. Somehow he had to PROVE his feelings to this extraordinary, amazing woman he had married.
But how?
Author's note: Deep, sincere thanks to all of my reviewers. I get a big, fat hairy goblin in my soup for being so lousy about responding to reviews individually, but I do want you to know that your comments keep me going on this fic and I make every effort to incorporate any comments/constructive criticism I receive into the story as I go along. Thanks to all of you for helping me with my writing and making this story even better than I could have without your sharp eyes and helpful suggestions!!
Chapter 20
Jareth's body instantly went rigid. Sarah felt the change and disentangled herself from his embrace, trying to see his eyes in the dim light, but his expression remained unreadable. Jareth gazed back at her intently for a few minutes, as if searching for an answer in her face. Finally, he spoke.
"Has it turned out so badly, my dear?" he asked.
"What?"
"Our marriage."
It was Sarah's turn to pause. How in the world could she answer that question? She wouldn't call her relationship with Jareth exactly "smooth", but then it certainly wasn't dull either. If nothing else, at least ONE aspect of their relationship seemed to be very healthy indeed. For heavens sake, she'd only been married to him for a week! How could he even ask her a question like that? Sarah looked back over to Jareth and was surprised by the heat in his eyes. He was looking at her as if the fate of the entire Underground was hanging on her answer.
"Jareth," Sarah said gently, "we've only been married for seven days. I think it's a little soon to say that anything has 'turned out' one way or another, don't you?"
Jareth felt as if his heart had just developed a giant crack in it. He loved his wife so much that it was difficult for him to understand how she could still be unsure of her feelings for him. He knew he wasn't exactly being fair, but by that infernal bog, he was the king! He didn't have to be fair!
"But Jareth, you still haven't answered my question yet. Why DID you marry me? I think I have a right to know."
Crap. Trapped. Ack. Arrgh.
Such were the monosyllabic signals shooting out from Jareth's brain.
Jareth's mouth had other ideas.
"Well, love, marrying you put us in a position to be mutually beneficial to each other instead of adversaries. It seemed the wisest choice at time."
Sarah lifted herself off the bed and stared at her husband. His answer was no more or less than what she had expected. So why did she suddenly feel like she was alone, looking out on the labyrinth again from an empty wasteland? Keeping her face carefully blank, she rested her hands on her hips to hide the fact that they were shaking. She had asked the question - she should be woman enough to swallow the answer, no matter how cruel. Surely she hadn't started to hope that Jareth would harbor feelings for her? Why should he?
"I see. Of course," she managed to choke out. "By marrying you I can see my family regularly. And by marrying me, you - well, what exactly was the benefit to you?"
Jareth's brain started to make wheezing noises again. His mouth, still feeling like a swashbuckling hero from the last "rescue" of said brain, leapt into the fray.
"Why, my dear, with you I can produce an heir."
Sarah's eyes narrowed. Fine. If he didn't love her and never would, that was just the way things were and she would accept it. But she knew utter crap when she was hearing it and nothing would make her accept THAT. She felt like a fool for having entertained the notion that Jareth might want her by his side for any but the most practical of reasons and it was high time that she knew exactly what terms her relationship with her husband was based on.
"Jareth, you could produce an heir with any woman you chose to marry. For all you know, I'm barren."
"Sarah-mine, I doubt that you're barren and if you are.well, I have more than enough Goblins so we'd have the opportunity to 'adopt' sooner or later."
The thought of raising a stolen baby was uncomfortable for Sarah although she supposed it might be a more pleasant fate for the child than Goblin- hood; however, she refused to be swayed from her course.
"But you could still produce an heir with any fairy princess - why me?"
Jareth's brain had already turned off and was lying quietly in the fetal position. Mouth brandished its sword and thought about adopting an alias - "Suave Saver"? - "Hot Lips"?
"Well, there was that small issue of you once having triumphed over my labyrinth - ONCE, mind you. I've certainly made a few 'improvements' since your last run through it. However, allowing you, a human, into the Underground and then releasing you - how can I put this? That kind of thing hasn't happened in more than a thousand years and it created an 'interesting' political situation for me. Having you return to the Underground and live at my side as my wife demonstrates your absolute loyalty to me. If the 'conqueror' of the labyrinth has chosen to commit her life to its king, no one in the Underground would dare to question my power."
As he watched Sarah's face, Jareth's Brain started to rouse itself from its stupor. She stood up hastily and started fumbling for her clothes. Her long hair hid her eyes, but he could have sworn he saw a tear trickle down her cheek as she rushed to the other side of the bed to retrieve her slacks.
Mouth was fired. Brain planned to hold auditions for a replacement as soon as possible. Brain fumbled about trying to grab the reins on Jareth's lips.
"Sarah-" the king started.
She ignored him and hastily threw on the rest of her clothes, keeping her face turned away. Her shoulders were shaking with her tears and she swept her long hair over them to hide their trembling. She was furious with herself for crying at all. Of course Jareth would need to prove to his minions that he would not accept defeat from someone who had been only a slip of a mortal girl.
As Sarah looked back on their seven days together, all of Jareth's actions seemed coldly, starkly clear. She now understood why he would force her to return to the Underground with him on the whisper of a wish she had made when she hadn't even been conscious. She thought back to his "generous" offer of marriage. The man hadn't batted an eye at the idea of marrying her after only a day in her company. Jareth had also done everything in his power to make it clear to her that HE was the one in control. He had dropped her into an oubliette when she had defied him and had even tried to prevent her from learning about her new magical abilities to the point of physically overpowering her. Everything made a sick, horrible kind of sense to her now. The only time he had offered her any kind of guarantee that she would not live a life of constant terror had been when he had placed a ring on her hand protecting her from his own magic. And he had offered the ring to her only when he had thought she might refuse to marry him after all.
Realizations clicked through Sarah's mind at lightening speed as she surreptitiously wiped her eyes and fought for her composure. It riled her to no end that after everything he had put her through, Jareth had his queen and that she had been forced to sacrifice her own freedom to fill the role. Wait a minute. Jareth had his queen. She was filling the role. She was QUEEN dammit. That had to be worth something.
"Sarah?" Jareth was truly worried now. His stomach started to tie itself in slow, excruciating knots as the silence dragged on and on between them.
Sarah brushed the tears off her face and stood up straighter. Queen she was and so queen she would be.
"Yes?"
"Are.are you alright?"
Sarah was surprised at the concern in her husband's voice, but chose not to give in to her curiosity. If she started asking herself questions about why he might be concerned for her, those questions would inevitably lead to other questions - like why she would care so much in the first place - that she didn't want to face without at least 200 feet of distance between herself and the man who was still sitting on her bed.
"Of course I'm alright. I'm fine." She didn't quite manage to sound calm, but at least resisted the growing urge to sock Jareth in the jaw.
For the moment.
She shuddered at the thought that her whole abduction and marriage had just been a set-up so that Jareth could prove to the world that he had "conquered" her after she had defeated his labyrinth. She had agreed to the marriage out of desperation and her love for her family. She certainly had NOT intended her marriage to be a public declaration of submission - especially to that infernal Goblin King.
Well, this poor, helpless, CONQUERED maiden had no intention of letting her husband anywhere near her ever again. Although.she thought she might be lonely without some sort of companionship on a daily basis. It really would be nice to have a pet she could keep close by - a dog, or maybe an opossum, or possibly a mink. A mink, yes. Perhaps a lovely golden one with mismatched eyes. She had learned to knit only last year and could keep up her skills by making it little pink sweaters.
With her most aloof and queenly gaze, she turned back to her husband.
Jareth searched her face anxiously, trying to gauge just how badly he had screwed up. He quailed a little as her cool green gaze met his. He couldn't guess what she was thinking, but the icy sweetness in her smile could have frosted a Dairy Queen cake. Apparently he'd screwed up pretty big.
"Well, darling," she oozed, managing to make the endearment sound like slow poison, "I'm a little tired so I think I'll just hop into the bath and then go straight to bed." In another room, far, far away from YOU, she added to herself.
Jareth sensed the danger and was tempted to snatch her straight back into his arms so that they could resolve their differences to his satisfaction, but when he made a move toward Sarah, the sparkle in her eyes was disconcertingly bloodthirsty. She hadn't backed away an inch and was looking at him the same way he would look at a goblin in his tights drawer. Under that gaze, Jareth actually cringed.
Sarah merely snorted in derision and sashayed out the door in the direction of the bathroom.
The goblin king was left splayed across her bed gaping after her.
Oh this was bad.
What to do? He could follow after her, yank her into his arms and show her just how he felt about her. As the thought of doing just that flitted enticingly through his mind, Jareth felt a sinking sensation. Yes, he could easily subdue Sarah while he did whatever he liked, but he couldn't shake the feeling that she would never forgive him if he did. She seemed to have been hurt by his careless words and if that was the case...then she must feel something for him after all. Should he jump for joy or jump off of a bridge now that he had screwed everything up?
Desperation gave him courage and he made his way to the bathroom and knocked.
"Yes?" Her voice sounded muffled, like she was crying.
"Darling, are you alright in there?"
Sarah didn't think Jaws had a habit of attacking people in bathtubs. "I was enjoying a quiet moment TO MYSELF. Thank you."
She wasn't getting rid of him that easily. With a few muttered words, Jareth materialized inside the bathroom. Sarah sat in the tub, head and shoulders rising above a froth of scented bubbles. Yes, her cheeks were wet, but so was everything else. Looking at her eyes, blazing up at him from where she sat, he noticed that they appeared a little red and she had tell-tale splotches on her cheeks. So she had been crying. Jareth felt even more horrible than when he had thrown her into the oubliette. "Sarah...love..." he mumured, moving toward her.
"Don't call me that."
If she had been hissing or screaming at him, he would have been less worried, but her tone was flat and dull, very matter-of-fact, and it send chills through him. He had never seen his Sarah like this before. "I'll call you whatever I like, love. Were my reasons for marrying you such a surprise?"
Sarah sighed. Of course they weren't. When she thought about it, she and Jareth had fought like cats ever since they had been thrown into each other's company again. It was just that somewhere underneath the animosity, during the hours spent navigating foreign diplomacy and family relations together, she had started to feel a connection with the man. It was her own fault that she had imagined that thread of feeling might run both ways. "No, Jareth," she sighed, "your reasons for marrying me were not a surprise. In fact, they make perfect sense. Now if you don't mind, I'd like to continue my bath in peace."
Sarah's bubble cover was dissipating rapidly and that delightful fact did not escape Jareth's notice. "Here, let me wash your back," the king's voice had lowered to a husky rasp. He snatched Sarah's washcloth from her hand and dipping it in the water, gently ran it over her neck and shoulders, leaving a glistening trail of bubbles across her skin. His hands felt so good on her sore muscles, warm and relaxing. She had always been a sucker for a good massage...then she caught herself abruptly. Sarah started to rise out of the water as she felt desire uncoil itself in her belly and start to spread outward through her limbs. Her breasts were tender, nipples erect, and she was already aching with an all-too familiar need. As she started to move away, Jareth caught her shoulders and held her in place.
"My dear, you're so tense. Let me relax you." His fingers were like iron and Sarah knew she didn't have a chance of winning a physical contest between them - especially when she was wet and naked and he was fully clothed down to the boots.
"Jareth, I don't want you to touch me."
Again that flat, frightening tone.
"Shhh..." he whispered, holding her in place by wrapping one arm more completely around her torso while he continued to bathe her gently.
His soft strokes with the cloth over her body were almost more than she could stand. When he shoved up his sleeve so that he could bathe her even further under the water, Sarah had to suppress a moan. In an act of sheer will, Sarah forced herself to focus on the words of their previous conversation. As she recalled the reasons he had given her for why he had wanted to marry her, she felt a blessed numbness steal through her body. She sat very still as her husband continued to wash her, no longer resisting, but no longer responding.
Jareth felt the change and his eyes narrowed. Holding Sarah now required no effort since she was no longer fighting against him, but those little moans and gasps for breath had stopped as well. She simply sat there, looking at him blankly. He dipped lower with the cloth, swirling it over her most intimate places, tracing every curve of her lush body. He sensed her breathing start to quicken again and then slow down to an even, normal rate. What could that little vixen be thinking of to make her icy cold to his attentions?
"Are you finished yet?" she asked him calmly, even sounding a little bored.
"Oh no, my love," he said, pointedly using the endearment, "not even close."
"Well, hurry up. I'm getting cold."
Jareth only grinned wickedly and drew her to her feet. "Anything to oblige," he breathed as he swathed a thick towel around her and commenced to lovingly dry every portion of her body.
As soon as he drew her out of the tub, Sarah made a move to walk away, but he wouldn't allow it. His hands closed over her shoulders yet again and with a sigh, she decided to wait the situation out. By this time her thoughts had made her so cold inside that she was no longer worried about responding to his caresses and was able to endure being toweled off until he slipped her bathrobe over her shoulders. Grateful to finally be covered from his scorching gaze, Sarah again headed toward the door only to be stopped a third time by Jareth as he closed a firm hand above her elbow.
"You're in quite the rush," he said, pulling her tightly to him. One strong arm circled her waist as he reached up with his other hand and released her hair from the clip that had been holding it off of her neck. His fingers snaked through the dark masses, drawing her face closer to his.
Sarah only continued to gaze at him calmly. "I'm tired, Jareth. I'd like to go to bed." And she WAS tired. This whole day had been too much - from drugged peaches wreaking havoc at dinner all the way down to the cold reality of her marriage finally out and on the table.
"Bed? My thoughts exactly," he purred. Sarah felt the air vibrate around her and looked up to find herself in her parents' guest room. Jareth scooped her up in his arms and carried her gently to the bed, feathering kisses over her face and neck. Sarah didn't resist when he laid her down on the bed and slipped the ties of her robe open. Even when his caresses became bolder, she held herself perfectly, coldly still beneath him.
Inside, she seethed with despair and disgust. After everything he had told her about his reasons for marrying her, she still desired him. After all of his efforts to keep her under his power, she had actually thought there could be something more to their marriage than an "arrangement". Oh god, oh god, the loneliness she felt as she looked at the facts was almost overwhelming.
Jareth had removed his shirt and was currently molding himself to her unresisting form. Even as he felt the evidence of his need straining against his jeans, the sense that he had done irreparable damage this night grew inside his gut like nausea. The feeling only made him redouble his efforts. More than anything he had to be close to Sarah, to crush her against him and drink her in. Even as he started to slide his jeans off, he kept one arm firmly around his wife. He was gripped with the irrational fear that if he fully released her for even an instant, she would vanish in front of his eyes.
Sarah, by contrast, was increasingly possessed with the knowledge that she DID NOT want Jareth touching her. It was with every ounce of will that she suppressed the urge to recoil as he pressed himself even closer to her body. She knew that if she struggled, she would only prolong the moment and he would probably enjoy the fight. There was no way she was strong enough to fling her husband away from her, although she WANTED it. As the thought of Jareth flying off of her and across the room became clearer and clearer, Sarah felt a force building deep inside, bubbling toward the surface in sharp little jolts. The desire to shove him away seemed to feed off the energy simmering right beneath her skin, coiling on itself until it felt almost palpable, like an incredibly strong and angry hand.
Seconds later, Jareth was still staring up at the ceiling from his position on the floor some feet away. Whatever that was had knocked the wind out of him and he needed a moment to recover. Slowly, he raised himself up to look dazedly at his wife, still perched on the bed.
Her face registered astonishment, then pleasure, before settling into a chilling look of determination.
"Jareth," she said slowly, as if speaking to his stupidest goblin, "Don't. Touch. Me."
He sat there for a moment, opening and closing his mouth in shock. Then anger set in. He could never hurt his Sarah, but this kind of defiance was absolutely unacceptable. "That, my dear, was most unwise," he hissed. Without ceremony, he lunged for her and was promptly tossed back onto his half-naked butt by the same invisible force. Instantly he conjured a crystal set with an entrapment spell and flung it at his wife. For a moment, her eyes widened in fear and she threw up her hands to protect her head only to hear the crystal shatter in front of her and fall over the bed in harmless bits of glitter. The ring on her hand was so hot it was practically burning her finger.
So he WAS telling me the truth about that ring! she thought, suddenly confused. If he had married her only to prove his dominance over her, then why risk throwing it away by giving her something like that? It's true that he had been worried she would refuse to marry him after that night she had spent in his oubliette, but even so, she knew enough about his magic by now to guess that he could easily have worked around the situation without the risk of giving up his control.
The king muttered a curse. Damn that ring.
Jareth took advantage of Sarah's confusion to lunge at her for a second time. This time, she was only able to hold him at bay by a few inches and he could tell she was getting tired. His wife might be immensely powerful, but she was still raw and inexperienced in the use of magic. Judging from the sweat that now beaded her forehead, he didn't think she could hold him off much longer. Jareth shoved himself relentlessly against Sarah's rapidly weakening magic. Their eyes locked for one instant in heated combat before all the color drained from Sarah's face and Jareth fell forward on top of her. He had yanked her toward him and halfway up off the bed before realizing that her limpness was more than a lack of resistance. She had fainted dead away. His hands gentled and his eyes clouded over with concern as he beheld his alarmingly pale wife, lying unmoving in his arms.
In an instant, he cradled her tenderly against his chest and moved so that he could pull the covers over both of them. He conjured a glass of water and placed it on the bedside table in case she was thirsty when she awoke. He remembered when he had first learned to control his magical talents. There had definitely been an embarrassing time or two when he had knocked himself unconscious with the strain. Of course his brother Damien had always been by his side to splash a little water on his face - or draw a moustache and warts on him with his quill and ink while he was out cold. Ah the joys of childhood.
As he gazed down at Sarah he was at a loss as to what to do next. In a single night, he had managed to ruin all of the hard work he had put in over - well, YEARS if you counted the wishing-the-brother-away incident - to win his wife's heart. Perhaps it was time to tell her how he really felt about her...But did he dare allow himself to be that vulnerable? If his subjects saw that he was in love with his queen, would he then appear weaker before them? She was his now, but everyone in his kingdom had assumed that he had drawn her to his side by the power of his will. He supposed that tying her up and kidnapping her to the Underground would still fall within the "power of his will" parameters, but it was a lot less compelling than the story of "how she could not resist him and had practically begged to be his wife so that she could remain at his side".
Sheesh. Who was he kidding? He couldn't even throw a line like that over on Ludo.
He let out a heavy sigh and then felt something flutter against his chest. Green eyes slowly opened, looking bemusedly into his. Sarah looked so innocent and lovely in his arms that it was physically painful to keep himself from kissing her.
Kissing Jareth was the last thing on Sarah's mind. For a moment, she stared at him, confused as to where she was and then realization swept through her as she tried to jerk herself out of his embrace.
"Go. Get out." Her tone was forceful, but she couldn't manage to fight him with more than the strength of a kitten.
"Sarah, I'm not leaving this room AND - " he barked as with some effort, she swept herself off the bed and toward the door "I can assure you that neither are you."
With that, the lock clicked on the door with unusual force. Sarah reached to unfasten the latch and jumped back as if she had been burned.
"It won't open - even if you do decide to try and burn your hand off."
She turned back to her husband, eyes glittering dangerously.
"Fine. I'll stay. I'm exhausted and the bed in this room is good enough for me - but I won't be sharing it with you."
"My queen, I don't think you have much choice in the matter," Jareth said silkily, crawling over the bed toward her like a large, dangerous feline creature on the prowl.
Sarah leapt to the side and at the same time felt another rush of power tingling from her chest down into her fingertips - weaker than the first, but still there. She felt the release of energy snap through her body and out the palms of her hands and once again, Jareth was tossed away from her and back onto the pillows.
"I wouldn't do that again if I were you." The king's voice was soft but the look on his face was truly frightening.
Without thinking, Sarah darted toward the window. Heaven knows she had snuck out once in awhile as a teenager and she knew the drop wouldn't be that bad. All she wanted in that moment was to put as much distance as possible between herself and the enraged Goblin King who was pursuing her. Just as she reached the glass, the king materialized in front of her and wrapped his arms around her like a cruel vise. She knew she was too weak from her last blast of magic to struggle much and instead turned her focus inward, searching for any power that might be left that she could use to defend herself.
When Jareth saw the look of abject terror on his wife's face, he felt his anger crack. This was all wrong. This was NOT what he wanted - the woman he loved so frightened of him that she would try to jump out a window to escape him. He felt another, pathetically weak trickle of power well up inside Sarah and blocked her latest attempt to knock him over with the flick of a wrist.
Defeated, she sagged in his arms and was shocked when his grip loosened and he guided her gently over to the bed. She had expected him to retaliate against her - or at least to throw her into some magical cage for the night. Instead, he lifted her onto the bed and fluffed the pillows. She tried to pull away as he removed the robe she had hastily snatched around herself during their battle, but he merely slipped it from her shoulders and then slid her exhausted body between the cool sheets and tucked them in around her.
She felt Jareth's weight on the bed and tensed, waiting for him to take advantage of her drained state to do whatever he pleased with her. Instead, he stroked her long hair back from her face and pressed his lips to her forehead.
"Oh, Sarah," he whispered, "I'm so, so sorry. I would never hurt you, love. Please believe that."
Confused and still angry, Sarah made no reply. Jareth just looked at her sadly for a minute, and then picked up one of the pillows on the bed and headed for the dresser on the opposite side of the room. He rummaged in the drawers for a minute or two until he came up with an extra blanket. Sarah flinched as he walked back toward her, but instead of settling next to her in the bed, he continued past her to an armchair in the corner where he curled up with the pillow and blanket.
"Goodnight, Sarah," he said, looking oddly hopeful that she might reply.
Sarah again said nothing and merely stared at him in disbelief.
Jareth sighed and shifted deeper into the cushioning on the armchair. It wasn't as comfortable as a bed, but he'd slept in worse places. Not that he thought he would sleep much tonight. The battle he had just fought with his wife kept playing itself over and over in his mind. Things had seemed to be improving between them until he had told her his reasons for marrying her. Why, oh why, couldn't he have simply told her the truth?
He tried to put himself in her place in the hope that if he could see her side, he might know better what to do. Being high king of the Underground, this was no easy task for Jareth. He had spent a lifetime (that by now had spanned hundreds of years) having others bow and scrape to please HIS whims. The thought of pleasing another hadn't even crossed his head until he had fallen in love with Sarah. Speaking of Sarah, if she hadn't felt much for him, then the reasons he had given her might have pricked her pride, but surely not so much that she would throw him out of her bed. But if she had started to put her animosity aside.if she DID care for him.
His stomach flipped as the possible consequences of what he had told her started to sink in. When he looked at his own behavior, he was torn. He was king. He had every right to rule all of his subjects in the most absolute sense of the word -even Sarah. But ruling Sarah had started to feel all wrong. He wasn't certain when the first hint of doubt had started to creep into his mind - maybe the day they had argued over her coronation ceremony and she had acquiesced to his wishes, but so sadly. The look in her eyes had torn him apart. He couldn't bear the thought of her being utterly miserable and him having been the source of her unhappiness.
His Sarah wasn't a woman who had ever bowed easily to authority. He even thought over her constant defiance with some pride. Imagine - defeating his labyrinth while she was still a child! Running off into the middle of the night to take her magical powers by the horns! Facing all of Fae society as its queen when she had been in the Underground no more than a few days! What a woman!
How must that woman feel about all that had passed between them? His heart sank as he realized that he had basically told her that her marriage to him declared her open submission to his will. Not that he would see that as a bad thing.He caught himself. SARAH would see submission to him as an unimaginable horror. Oh gods.
He tried to appear indifferent, but couldn't keep his worry from his features as he gazed at Sarah, where she lay on the bed. He didn't think she was sleeping yet either, but thought it might be best to let this situation alone for a little while - at least until morning. Even if he told her the truth now, he wasn't certain that she would believe it. Somehow he had to PROVE his feelings to this extraordinary, amazing woman he had married.
But how?