DISCLAIMER - I don't own Sarah or Jareth or the Labyrinth (unfortunately) they belong to Jim Henson & Co, and I'm definitely not making a profit from this. (Bummer) All other NPC's are a figment of my own imagination.
Chapter 20 – A Joining
He carried her through the dark corridors to his own private rooms and sat her down carefully on a soft chair in his sitting room. Motioning vaguely about him he flooded the room with flickering light from the many candles. Sarah blinked and squinted in the sudden change and tried to ignore everything going on inside her head. So many emotions, so many feelings and memories that did not belong to her, ruthlessly she blocked them out as he had taught her, concentrating on a small point of light she created amid the maelstrom.
"Here, drink this, it will help." Jareth said, returning and handing her a glass with dark liquid swirling at the bottom.
"I hope its poison."
"I'm not going to go through the same conversation with you Selindé, drink it." His command caught her off guard and pain rippled again though her skull making her whimper. Jareth knelt before her and ran his hand across her forehead. "My apologies. The brew will help settle your head." She nodded and drank the liquid, relaxing slightly as it tasted faintly of strawberries. He nodded, satisfied and left her.
She lay back in the comfortable chair and let her mind wander where it would through the unordered chaos, mentally cataloguing what was hers, and what belonged to Jareth. Carefully, as each memory or emotion separated itself from the others, she put it away in a jar in her head. Storing them out of the way until they could be examined at leisure.
"I just got married." She said finally, opening her eyes and looking around the room. It was larger than her own sitting room, and much more untidy with books and papers littering every available surface. A pair of leather boots lay discarded by another chair and the black and silver trimmed robe he had worn to the High Kings palace was thrown carelessly across the back of a plush sofa. She got up slowly, ignoring the slight dizziness and nausea and threaded her way through the randomly placed furniture to the black wood doors that were half open.
She leant on the doorframe and tried not to gape in amazement but failed. His bedroom was a black and purple silk ocean. The tiled floor was covered in rich rugs overlapping one another carelessly, and the black walls reached up to a ceiling that was covered by acres of silk hangings of purple so dark it looked black. His canopied four-poster bed was huge, and outsized her own, more than generous bed, by several feet. It was covered with more black drapes and purple bedding, and mounded with pillows and a soft fur throw.
"No wonder every single woman in the Fae kingdoms hates me." She whispered walking silently over to a dressing table and sitting down. She looked at her pale face in the mirrors and began to carefully remove the strands of gems from her hair, starting with the crown of black diamonds. Jareth looked up at her from where he was sat with his feet up on a chaise watching the moon gliding over the labyrinth. He said nothing as he watched his wife removing her jewels, stopping himself from rushing to her so that he could renew the skin contact again, to touch her very essence. He shut away his feelings and looked back up at the equally unobtainable moon floating in the black sky.
"OK." Sarah said, finally getting up from removing the ornaments out of her hair. "Say it now or forever hold your peace. I can't stand it when you're mad at me and I don't know why!" She said walking up to him and standing with her hands on her hips. He turned at looked at her, for what seemed like days until she blushed and crossed her arms over her chest. "Fine, just don't bring it up again." She said loftily as she turned and walked to the doors. Just as she reached them they slammed closed in her face. "You know, sometimes you're really rude." She sighed trying to open the doors before looking back at him over her shoulder. "First you refuse to talk, then you refuse to let me out. I wish…"
"Shut up." He said getting up with cat like grace and walking towards her. Sarah shut her mouth instantly, unable to do anything else except curse him in her head. "I also object to you using those words when referring to me." He said smirking as she scowled at him. He leant back on the closed doors and watched her internal struggle. Finally she snorted and turned away from him.
"Turn around." She shook her head, tears forming in her eyes in the effort to disobey him. "Selindé, turn around." Every inch was grudgingly given as she turned around again and looked up at him. He leaned forward and carefully brushed away her tears.
"Eventually you'll realise its just easier to do things my way than arguing." He said before running his fingers into her hair and kissing her. She froze as his lips touched hers, soft and gentle before he was kissing her deeply as his tongue explored her mouth through lips she hadn't realised she had opened. His touch was electric, and she was melting, hot emotion coursing through her veins making her want to moan and wrap her arms around him and never let him go. Then he was gone, the heat of his body and the rich taste of him were all that remained. She closed her eyes and gasped for breath.
"First of all you completely disobeyed my orders about not saying anything in court. You made me look foolish. If you ever do that again, I will have to punish you, even if I was rather impressed with you knocking that sick son of a bitch out. Breaking Elindah's wrist was plain idiotic and I refuse to field death threats between you both, you've started this special little war, and so you're going to have to finish it. You may have gotten the Seelie Court on your side, but by demanding those terms Tilingdor will strike back at us with twice as many people on his side. Everybody always believed that Shayene was favoured by the High King and by the Court, and you've just proved it to them all over again." Jareth paused in his tirade to look at her still standing there where he had left her, facing the door, her eyes closed and tears falling unchecked down her cheeks.
"Secondly, the ritual that was just performed to unite us was created a millennia ago by my ancestors who thought that women were chattel and had no right to request anything of the man who chose to take her to his bed. It was purely to make sure that the woman could not run away from her husband or cheat on him with another, and for no other reason. Do not take any of it to heart, because it means nothing." He said standing behind her and whispering in her ear. She stood as still as a rock, her eyes still closed and he sighed, walking over to the dresser where she had left her things. He picked up her crown and snorted before throwing it back onto the tabletop, scattering jewels.
"Now you may speak." He stood looking out of the window again, examining her emotions floating around in his head. He knew when she moved, when she breathed, but looked around at her in surprise as she spoke.
"I haven't ever been kissed like that before." She refused to look at him, as he laughed, ashamed at not having ever been kissed.
"You're telling me you're 25 years old and you've never…" She shook her head, blushing furiously as he strode up to her and pulled up her chin in his hand to make her look at him. "Good." He said and promptly kissed her again. She wrapped her arms around his neck automatically leaning into his strength and warmth. He eventually pulled away from her, not wanting to frighten her with the intensity of his need for her. "You should go to bed, the ritual was exhausting." He said running his thumb across her lips and cheek.
"You're going to make me go to bed, on my own, on my wedding night?" She asked incredulously as she ran a curious hand across the exposed expanse of his chest where his poet's shirt lay open.
"After everything that you have gone through both here and in the Aboveground, I did not want to… presume." He said quietly.
"You were wrong about the ritual. I meant everything that I said, and I expect you to hold true to everything you said too. I owe you my life and my soul belongs to you. I'm not made of porcelain, I won't break if you touch me, and I'm not leaving. I couldn't anyhow, since I can't get through the doors." She sighed.
"I don't want to be alone, not like it was before. When you released me in the throne room, I thought I was going to have to live that way for the rest of my life, just an empty shell. You can't give me everything I've ever wanted and then take it away again because you're worried I might get frightened. I'm frightened all the time, of you, of the magic I can feel flowing through my veins, Elindah trying to kill me, of everything that's happened to me, and of this crazy stupid feeling I have in my heart every time you are near me. I want you to love me." She whispered wrapping her arms around him and burying her face into his neck.
Jareth picked her up and carried her to his bed at the same time extinguishing the candles around them.
He picked her up and carried her to his bed at the same time extinguishing the candles around them.
"I have waited so long to hear you say that." He whispered as she wrapped her arms around his muscular torso she reached up and kissed him hesitantly, not quite sure what she should be doing.
"Make me yours." She whispered, pulling him closer. In their minds a white haze descended, sparking in the magical flux, their soul joining in the time honoured way as their bodies succumbed to their mutual desire.
Slowly the fires of their joining flickered out, leaving them both spent, but satisfied. Jareth opened his eyes and moved so he could look at her. She smiled at him as he wiped away her tears and carefully kissed her bruised lips. She sighed as he pulled away from her and settled her into a more comfortable position by his side. She was asleep in minutes, her fingers twined in his, but Jareth lay awake for a long time, listening to his wife's soft breathing.
"My wife." He whispered to himself looking up at the silent moon shining at the top of his windows. "Not so unobtainable after all." He refused to brood about the consequences of her actions, and instead admired and congratulated himself for finally getting the one thing he had always wanted, his equal, his Queen, his wife.