CHAPTER FIFTEEN - PERCHANCE TO DREAM

"Sarah," she heard someone calling softly. "Sarah." She watched with curiosity as she stepped out of her body. Feeling the weight of the silver white ball gown hugging her, she eyed the form that remained in Jareth's bed in its common clothing. "Sarah," she heard once more. She spun around to face the direction the voice called from only to catch the eyes of the fey who leaned himself gracefully against the mantle surrounding the fire. One long finger pointed in her direction curled and beckoning her closer. Eyes wide, she mindlessly obeyed him, almost powerless to resist. The space between them grew smaller as he came forward to greet her in the open space behind the sitting area. One grey glove slid skillful around her waist while the other engulfed her tiny hand guiding her in strange circles her feet weren't accustomed to moving in. She hadn't meant to look down, letting him see she needed to concentrate on where she was shuffling her shoes. Jareth's soft leather glove brushed against her chin as he raised it up to capture her stare. The king was unwilling to share her attention. Grinning wickedly he continued spinning her about, his soothing voice singing in her ear causing the hair on her arms and the back of her neck to stand at attention.

"There's such a fooled heart, beating so fast in search of new dreams, a love that will last within your heart. I'll place the moon within your heart," he sang.

How she longed to let him fulfill these promises to her among other things. Sarah was lost in his eyes, hypnotized by the reflection of the flames within his enlarged pupils. The Goblin King had always had one enlarged eye she recalled, but in secret she admitted that seeing the other broaden excited her. In her world it was rumored that in addition to the waning of ambient light, observing something that one desired would evoke such a reaction. 'Desire me,' she thought.

"I'll paint you mornings of gold. I'll spin you Valentine evenings."

It wasn't long before his caroling lips found themselves caressing her throat. Velvet pillows dancing over her tingling skin, jagged teeth nipping at her ear, hot breath chasing away the shivers in her spine. When did she close her eyes? Sarah opened them to be sure she was still where her heart wished to be. The Goblin King's formal attire had been replaced by the silk pajamas she had seen him in this morning. Her ball gown too had vanished, giving way to a delicate lavender chemise. Made of silk, it kissed at the skin where Jareth's lips had yet to venture. The lace bodice obscured the details of her chest but by no means hid her shapely figure. Little could be hid at all beneath the delicate fabrics. When the king moved to hold her back some, eager to drink her in, impassioned to continue with his promises, Sarah turned her head away shyly. Jareth refused to let break their gaze for long.

"But I'll be there for you as the world falls down. Falling. Falling down. Falling in love."

His lips came crashing down on hers and she melted into his embrace. With a well choreographed sweep she was in his arms, her small hands gripping his neck, their eyes joined. Jareth carried her across the room and finally lay Sarah back on the bed, reuniting her soul with the body it left behind to come and dance with him. The king was leaning over her, one knee on the mattress. Sarah's lips parted in anticipation of another kiss.

"Sarah." It was a conglomeration of voices she heard in her head. The sweet lightness of her body suddenly gone. She felt heavy again plagued by the intermittent throbbing in her skull. "Sarah," Arulan called again.

'Damn,' she thought now painfully aware that she had returned to her body and more painfully aware that this body ached for a man her mind didn't want to love. Besides, she had pushed him away, more than once, what would he want with her now? In truth, she wished the elf had stayed away a bit longer. She wanted to follow the dream, see where it led. It may have been the concussion talking, but since she had woken up in Jareth's bed she couldn't stop imagining what it would be like to have him in it.

"Feeling better?"

Sarah nodded and smiled. 'Better than when?' her mind questioned. It was obvious that she was better than she had been twelve hours ago and worse than she had been twelve minutes ago. Stuck in some emotional limbo that made her want to hide away from everyone until things started making sense again. Fulfilling that request would be highly unlikely in the Underground where nothing was as it seemed and even less of it made sense.

For a minute, she stopped listening to the voices in her head and heard the growl of her stomach. From a tray on the bed side table she could smell something that was making her very hungry. Arulan had brought her a bowl of broth and was positioning the tray over Sarah's lap as the weary mortal struggled to rise. Sipping at the chicken broth did seem to be easing her throat and it wasn't upsetting her tummy any. No sense taking any chances, so she was careful not to make the same mistake she had with the water by gulping it down. "I never thought plain old chicken broth could taste so good."

"Glad you like it," Arulan told her. "It was all we had left in the kitchen after lunch was served."

"Lunch has been served, what time is it?"

"Nearly two."

"Have I slept that long?"

Arulan sat beside her on the bed and reached to smooth her hair. "However long you've been asleep Sarah, you're body needed the recovering. Why don't you finish your broth and I'll run you a hot bath. Would you like to get cleaned up?"

She nodded as she kept sipping at the broth. Karen had never mothered her the way this delicate elf was now, never attempted to comfort her, soothe her. Not even her real mother had been so tender with her, not that she could recall anyway. The thought of just how much she had missed out on made her eyes tear. She tried to bat away the forming droplets, but one escaped and slipped down her cheek.

Jareth's servant noticed immediately, "Did I say something to upset you?"

"No Arulan. I was just...thinking of my family."

"You must miss them very much. I'm sure you're in a hurry to get home to them," even if she spoke the words, she feared them being true.

Nodding and smiling once again, Sarah thought, 'I've missed them as long as I've had them, even when they were sharing the same roof as me, and as for hurrying home to them, there wasn't anything to hurry home to.' "Arulan, do you have any children?

"None of my own dear," she tidied things about the bed as she answered in order to avoid looking at the mortal. "There are those I think of as my children though." She tucked the blankets around Sarah's legs and patted her knees affectionately. "That's enough for me," after a short silence.

Arulan said softly, "I'll leave you to your thoughts dear."

'God no, not that,' Sarah screamed inside as the elf left for the bath. Mechanically she finished the broth. It had been days since he she showered and she was pleased to hear the water running in the next room, although Sarah couldn't help wondering if a cold shower might not be more appropriate. She didn't know what it was that was encouraging her to think of the Goblin King in this new light. Had he really gotten to her so badly with a few long kisses and well placed caresses? Was she that easily manipulated? It wasn't as if this was the man who had taken away her virginity. That was Jason. Prom night, senior year, back seat of 1988 Pontiac Grand Am. Jareth had taken something more personal and more powerful than virginity had become in the jaded world in which Sarah had grown up.

He took her to that masquerade, the one with the silver dress from her dream where the people who danced around her were so mature, so graceful and rutting in debauchery. Jareth had stolen her immaturity, forced her to admit that those wild, innocent eyes weren't seeing anything they didn't already know about. In fact, they weren't watching anything that Sarah hadn't already been curious about. Looking back now, she would have done things so much differently, if only she'd been a few years older, better able to articulate those feelings that children don't think they should have. Playing the games, donning the masks, she would have made herself as elusive as the Goblin King had been. Ducking and disappearing from sight, forcing him to hunt her down. Catching his attention from the corner of her eye as she swayed between two of the masked men at the ball, neither able to draw their attention from her while she saw only the king.

That's what it was. The fey hadn't introduced her to sex, which was frankly a huge discomfort and a bigger disappointment. He hadn't given her that first earth shattering orgasm. She had done that on her own. More greatly anticipated than those things, Jareth had awakened her sexuality which made her crave all those other things, made her crave him now. "Damn you," she whispered when she noticed her face had grown blush.

Arulan came trudging into her daydreams as she had become proficient at doing during the mortal's short stay. "The bath is ready if you care for me to help you."

Frustrated Sarah threw back the covers and placed her feet on the floor. So far, so good, no spinning walls. More slowly than the first time she forced herself to stand. Her stomach wasn't practicing acrobatics, which was pleasing her very much. Arulan had come forward slipping in under one of Sarah's arms to help her walk. At first, she didn't think it was necessary, but the first steps forward proved her wrong. There was no sensation to compare it to really, the way her legs seemed to wobble. If she had been wearing red and white stripes she could have passed for Toby when he made his stay in the Underground. Two uncoordinated stalks flopped over one another trying to get Sarah to the bath. They adamantly refused to obey the messages her brain sent them. Jareth's servant grunted as she attempted to steady the woman. "Stop fighting it," Arulan instructed her. "Your muscles are weak. Lean on me, let me lead you. In time, it will all return. Patience."

'Patience? Are you serious? How the hell long is this going to take?" is what she wanted to say, but instead she sighed giving in to her gummy legs and leaden feet, allowing the elf to do most of the work that brought them closer to the bath.

Even the sight of the steaming water was making her feel more human. Arulan pulled a chair over so that Sarah could sit to undress herself. It had become obvious that she was not yet ready for long term standing. Sarah readily accepted the seat. "What, you're going to watch me?"

"Sarah, please, I have bathed others before. I am a servant you know." Arulan folded towels and left them on a tray beside the tub. Soaps and shampoos came next. Lastly, she poured lavender oil into the hot water. When she returned to Sarah's side, she was still fully clothed. "If it makes you that uncomfortable, I can step outside."

"No, it's just the concussion talking," she smiled. "I'm sure your very professional." What she was really trying to decide was whether or not those 'others' she had bathed included Jareth. Sarah let out a small moan and began disrobing. She didn't feel strong enough to stand in order to remove her jeans so she wiggled out of them while still seated. Surrounded by all the marble and ceramic which comprised the bath, Sarah shivered in just her undergarments. She fumbled with the clasp of her bra.

"Do you require assistance?" Arulan offered.

Sarah nodded.

The elf stepped forward to help remove the undergarment, "My but you mortals do wear strange undergarments."

"What's so strange about them?"

"They're so small. It's no wonder you fumble with them."

"What do they wear here?"

Jareth's servant thought a moment and replied, "I suppose it's different for each species. Some of the fey women will use corsets or bodices in combination with bloomers or crinoline layers. Others choose little more than a slip." Unsure why Sarah was pursuing this question Arulan asked, "Do you need me to have the seamstress make you up a few things.?"

"No, thank you. I brought along a few days worth of clothes." Sarah stood to remove her underwear, but found that bending to do so brought back the spinning.

Arulan insisted she straighten up again then picked up where the mortal had left off. "I'll have these taken to the laundry for cleaning," she told her as she gathered up Sarah's clothes.

"Thank you." Having a servant wasn't so bad after all. She made the first few steps toward the tub when she realized she needed to go to the bathroom. "If you please, might you tell me where the commode is?"

"The water closet is behind that curtain," Arulan pointed. "Do you need a hand?"

"No, no, I can make it." Sarah tried to force herself. Not that she wasn't grateful for Arulan's being so patient, she was. Sarah was naked and the idea of another woman touching her was a little disconcerting. The first few steps weren't so bad, but there was a raised step into what Arulan referred to as the water closet. It tripped her up a bit. The elf was at her side, gingerly taking her hand and shoulder to guide her back to a standing position. Sarah was appreciative of the way Jareth's servant held her, careful to place her hands only where it was appropriate.

"Maybe I've gotten you out of bed too soon, Sarah. Perhaps a bath was a bad idea."

"No, I'd like to get cleaned up. I know it will make me feel better." Besides, going back to bed meant more chances to dream and Sarah wasn't ready for that.

"Have it your way." When she was through in the water closet, Arulan helped her into the tub. "I'll leave you to your privacy then. There's a flute on the table, blow it when you're through and I'll come help you out."

"Thank you." She seemed to be saying that perpetually. No matter she decided. It couldn't hurt to be courteous. Sarah sunk in the tub up to her neck, letting her arms drape over the sides. It was the best she'd felt in as long as she could remember. Hot water eased her muscles while the lavender scent filled her nose. 'This is fabulous,' she thought.

Sarah looked at the tray Arulan left beside the tub. There were three soaps, each smelled delightful. She decided to use the last one since it was already in her hand. Working her hands into a rich lather, she washed her face and neck. The brush scrubbing at her back was complete renewal. But it was when the brush began massaging her legs that Sarah tossed back her head and let out a moan of pleasure, until she noticed that her legs needed shaving. There was a older model razor on the tray, the kind that required an actual blade to be fastened into place. It wasn't the pink plastic Bic disposables she was used to, but then how hard could it be? Starting with her armpits, where the curves were less treacherous, she managed just fine. Carefully, she dragged the new blade over the length of her leg, repeating the motion until it was bare. When Sarah finished the other leg she ladled water over it rinsing away the severed hair. Lavender oil made the water thick, almost like a lotion and Sarah couldn't resist massaging it into her dry skin. Starting with her feet, concentrating on her calves and finally her thighs.

Everything around her was Jareth's. Sarah was suddenly quite aware of that. This was his tub she was soaking in. Odd sensations filled her as she thought about sitting naked where the Goblin King had done the same. Recognition was replaced with remembering as her mind wandered back to her morning's dream. She was as weightless now as she felt in his majesty's arms. Her vivid imagination picked up where Arulan's greeting had forced her dream to leave off. This time Jareth kept leaning over her until her frame could feel the weight of him. His gloves pushed back her hair, mismatched eyes holding her stare. Jareth's mouth covering her own. Sarah imagined his knee working to part her thighs and soon her temperature was greater than that of the water around her. The hand that had been contentedly rubbing her thigh and begun fondling the area that lay between them. For a minute she contemplated giving into her body's desires, hoping that momentary satisfaction would put an end to the torment. 'It's not entirely a bad idea,' she thought. She even dared to wonder if Jareth had engaged in such activities, even within this very room. Quickly Sarah withdrew her hand from the water, spraying herself in the face. It was more than her body growing heated, the water had taken on a bit of a chill. Cold spray was precisely what she needed to bring her out of the fantasy.

Doing her best to comose herself, Sarah smoothed back her wet hair. Feeling rude, but made uncomfortable by the chilling water., Sarah reached for the flute and blew. It made a very sour single tone despite her efforts to cover different tone holes and produce some half assed melody.

Arulan came almost immediately with a white terry robe in hand. "Ready Sarah?"

"Yes please."

The mortal started to rise from the tub causing Arulan to call out. "I'll help you. I don't want you falling again."

Sarah groaned, very displeased at being treated like an invalid. Though she would admit to herself that she did in fact need assistance, she didn't see the point in letting on to Jareth's servant who was most probably telling him everything anyway. She slid her arms into the terry robe. It was plush and felt heated as if it had been just taken from the dryer. Arulan helped her back to the bed. Sarah sat with her legs hanging over the edge refusing to lie back.

"You need to get some rest," Arulan told her as she began to lay out a lavender chemise, made of silk with a lace bodice together with a matching robe and a pair of slippers which she tucked neatly under the edge of the bed.

Gasping Sarah recalled where she had seen that garment before. "Where did you get those?"

"Oh, I hope you don't mind. I took some of your clothing to the seamstress while you were in the tub and had her make you up a few things that I couldn't help noticing you didn't have." Arulan studied the shocked expression on Sarah's face immediately mistaking it for upset. "You don't like?" she asked. "I could have her make you something else? Something that would cover more? Cover less? Another color perhaps?" None of the suggestions Arulan made seemed to change the look upon the mortal's face.

At some length, Sarah met Arulan's worried gaze, "No, that won't be necessary. I like that one. I like it very much."

Sleep had claimed her once again. Arulan had left hours ago to tend to her other duties around the castle leaving Sarah to switch into her bed clothes, but before she could lavish herself in the rich silk of the chemise, sleep had come. The mortal lie a top the duvet, still clad in the terry robe. Her rest had been dream free and the foggy feeling of waking up was making it's appearance. When she first opened her eyes she was disappointed. Yawning and stretching she wondered why no dreams had come to her. Looking down, her eyes were greeted by the white terry robe which she had fallen to sleep in. Her head still felt heavy. Too heavy to get up and change into the nightgown that Arulan had left for her. In fact, she would have preferred to roll over and go back to bed, but it was no use. She was wide awake. Frustrated she turned onto her side and repositioned the robe so that she was covered. Her hand swept over the fabric of the pillow which held her heavy head. She pulled back the duvet and marveled at the feel of sheets. Silks and velvets were everywhere in Jareth's decorating and it puzzled her that such a gruff and miserable fey would adorn himself with these kinds of sensory stimulating, tangible luxuries. Puzzled and intrigued.

Deciding that she would offer herself to sleep once more, Sarah crawled beneath the duvet where she could allow her freshly shaven legs to create a soothing friction against the silk sheets. "Maybe I'll never leave," she said out loud and then quickly glanced around to be sure that her meaningless utterance hadn't been overheard. Sarah had lain herself at the alter of sleep, but her offering had been denied. She tossed and turned suddenly very uncomfortable in what was perhaps the most perfect bed she had ever slept in. The knot of her robe had come undone which was allowing the cool silk to touch the warm skin of her right side. Sarah couldn't resist contemplating Jareth naked in his bed taking the same comfort in the cool silk that she was now.

The more she thought on it, the more elusive sleep became, increasing her frustrations. It was bringing back those headaches from this morning she hoped had gone. Throbbing pains in her temple gave way to a sudden stabbing and Sarah winced in pain. Wide awake, images began to dance beneath her eye lids. Jareth's room, a woman's laughter as she coyly positioned herself atop the bed wearing little more than a slip. Hadn't Arulan said something about that? Maybe it was a glitch in her vision, but the woman's face was obscured. Perhaps Sarah just did not want to see the face of the woman who writhed about the king sized mattress doing her best to draw the attention of the Goblin King. Sarah looked around her vision for Jareth. She found him at a corner table to the left of the fireplace which she was just now noticing. A silver tray held some glasses and a few decanters. The fey poured a drink into one of the glasses and downed it quickly. He removed his coat and boots, then tightened his gloves by pulling them up his long fingers and tugging at the wrists.

Sarah watched intently as he crossed the room, moving herself around the vision so that she could sit in the point of view of the woman Jareth walked toward. Her heart skipped a beat as those long and slender legs made their determined strides. The woman must have shuffled over to the far side of the bed because Jareth was sliding in beneath the duvet. With a wave of his hand his clothes were gone, but for two black soft leather gloves which remained ever present. Sarah looked at his pale chest, the candle light dancing off it like a frozen pond. Her hands reached out for thin air. Hoggle had told her she could control the vision, but right now it felt just the opposite. 'How modest,' Sarah thought given his majesty was typically so bold and self assured. A feminine hand began to caress the king and Sarah wanted to make it stop, she didn't want to see this. Her heart had known that he had other woman before her visit 15 years ago. Logically he had them since, but to know and to watch were very different things. Cruelly the vision continued.

Jareth grabbed the woman fiercely, pulling her to him, dipping his head immediately to the crook of her neck and beginning his assault on her senses. The woman threw her head back. Sarah could feel it, the way she had no choice but to surrender to this fey, make things easier for him. The mortal also couldn't help but notice that this was not the same way he had been with her. It was rougher, less hesitant than he had been with her. It made Sarah envious of this woman, jealous that he wanted her enough to throw caution away. Jareth's hand moved to lower the straps her slip, his lips moving down her neck over her chest to her already hardened nipple. She arched into him. Sarah arched too as she felt this woman's tension mounting. Though no love was lost between the two of them, these strangers shared an intimate similarity, they both wanted the Goblin King.

Intently Sarah stared at the face of the king, his eyes closed as he positioned himself above the woman in his bed. She lie back trying to catch her breath brazenly putting herself into the vision as if she were the woman about to be taken by Jareth. Sarah didn't know enough about the species of the Underground to know exactly what breed the woman was. It was a tiny woman, small and delicate, definitely not mortal. Sarah could sense her magic along with the sensation of Jareth's gloves over her thighs, hiking up that slip. With precision he worked his palm against her sensitive mound. The woman cried out the king's name. Sarah whispered along with her. "You mustn't speak," he told her plainly, "it disturbs my concentration."

Fey had to concentrate? The mortal found it odd, but tossed the comment aside for she had better things to focus on at the moment. Sarah was enthralled with the very look of him. The distinct features of his face. The hills that ran along his biceps as he held himself over his lover. Her hands began their absent straying, reaching out for a body who wasn't truly there and she cursed the woman whose life she was viewing for not wanting to do the same so that she might at least vicariously know the sensation. Something startled Sarah as she lie in the bed soaking up what her sight allowed her. She had adjusted well to being able to share the feelings of the people in her visions. She had even come to terms with her own reactions to those feelings, aware that she was sometimes trying to touch a vapor, a picture she could see, but that her fingers went right through. Those were actions she made on her own. This was an involuntary movement, something she had not told her body to do and yet it was happening in perfect synchrony with her vision. Her legs slid apart, rolling easily over the slick fabric. A gasp escaping her lips when she felt a nudging at her crotch.

Jareth's face was still inches from hers even if his body was somewhere else. It was better than any fantasy she'd had with Christian. She watched the muscles of his neck grow tighter as he stopped the purposeful massaging and used his hand to guide himself into her. His task now complete those taught muscle relaxed, their tension seeming to melt down the king's lithe body and settle into his hips which had begun a gentle rocking. It was as if the woman, whomever she had been, that helped to serve as a medium between them was gone. Sarah's hips rose against the sensations she was feeling. Her heartbeat quickened, her breathing erratic as sweat formed along her hair line. She met each thrust in time with him bringing her closer to the feeling of release she had been seeking all day. Her eyes closed as she lost herself in his rhythm. Her body felt full, content, happy to stay at this state of heightened sensation indefinitely. A smile spread over her lips, her head raising up in an effort to capture his lips, but none were there. She felt his pace quicken and set her head back down. Needy fingers reached to grab something that would keep her in place as the king repeatedly drove into her. Had the air somehow gone thin in the room? Sarah found it increasingly difficult to breath. Jareth stilled his movements, pulling almost completely free of his lover before sinking himself back in to the hilt. This torturous process was repeated several times before she was startled by the sensation of soft leather on her naked hips. She opened her eyes, the holographic image still there, his eyes closed, his look determined. Sarah could feel the orgasm building in her body, the mirrored orgasm of this faceless woman she wanted to wish away. Her mind cast her out. 'It's only you and I Jareth,' her mind said, 'only you and I.'

As if he had heard her, the king's thrusts became quick and short, his own satisfaction lying just beneath the surface. Jareth was burrowed deep within his lover, the weight of him pressing on her pelvic bone increasing her stimulation, his length managing to not only stroke her from within, but cascade over the small bundle of nerves at the top of her folds as well. Soft moans echoed in the empty space around them as her orgasm came in waves, gently at first like summer breezes that blew from the river's edge effortlessly over the bank and then building as a white cap would break as it journeyed further from the middle of the ocean, its intensity far too great to survive all the way to shore. Jareth's completion came several minutes later as his lover was coming down from her sensational high. Sarah was suddenly very satisfied, although her body ached to have the feel of him beside her, at least the carnal urges she'd been suppressing had been fulfilled.

'Amazing,' she realized as she lie there still at the mercy of her vision. His skills as a lover had been quite good, better than she had expected they might have been. He rose from the bed, immediately drawing a robe around his body and heading to his bath. The woman in the bed remained behind until his door was closed. Then she dressed and left. Sarah wondered what sort of relationship it was that could one minute be so passionate and the next so cold. The vision ended leaving Sarah very confused.

Before she could stop asking herself a series of questions, all of which began with why, the king returned, throwing open his bedroom door and barreling inside as if it were any other day. Sarah moved quickly to cover herself and smooth her wild hair. "Why don't you knock before barging into a room?" she asked angrily.

"Because it is still my room, is it not?"

She despised having a question answered by another question and spat back, "Yes, yes it is, but you know I'm in here and what if I had been in some state of undress?"

Jareth undid the buttons of his coat and tossed it over the back of the settee. Purposeful steps brought him to the bedside, his eyes stealing a peek at the crevasse of Sarah's breastbone revealed by her partially open robe. Trying his best to not show his appreciation for her form, the king met her eyes and narrowing his brow said as monotone as he could, "Surely you give yourself a great deal of credit, Sarah. You may do and say as you please, you have no power over me." With this he disappeared into the bath slamming the door closed behind him. He said it so casually.

Words were sometimes the greatest weapons one could wield. Sarah knew that as she sat in the king's bed, her own statement spat back at her. Tears came to her eyes. It had been one thing, needing to say them all those years ago when it was Toby she needed to rescue, but it had become quite another to hear them being said. Tightening the robe around herself, Sarah emerged from the warmth of the bed. Her feet fit easily in the slippers Arulan had left behind. Stomach no longer churning and head steady she marched to the door of the bath, balled her hand into a fist and began to pound upon the door with all her might.

"Can a fey not get one moment's piece in his own chamber!" Jareth shouted from inside.

"You listen to me Goblin King, I didn't ask to be brought back to your chamber. You made me a guest here. I expect you to treat me as such." Sarah's arms folded across her chest as she stood back feeling as if she had articulated herself quite well.

"You are no guest here."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Inside the bath, Jareth stood watching the door. He hadn't need to use the bath at all, it was just better that he walk away from her, put some distance between the two of them until the part of him that wanted to kill her managed to outlast the part of him that wanted to kiss her. "You're my prisoner."

"Prisoner?"

"Yes. I saved you from the Pooka, captured you and brought you back here as my prisoner."

"Captured me?"

"Yes, captured you."

"I was unconscious!"

"I didn't say it was a challenge to do so."

"So you could make me your prisoner?"

"Yes."

"Why bother saving me, then?"

Tired of her whining, Jareth threw open the door. "I couldn't very well kill you." He stepped around her, leaving her standing there stunned that he would be so vicious.

"Kill me?"

"What? I didn't do it!" he protested as he draped himself over the settee. Snapping his fingers, he ignited the fire.

"Why not just leave me for the Pooka then? Why not just let it drop me off some place? Maybe a nice oubliette where everyone could just forget about me."

"What did you just say?"

"You heard me!" Sarah flopped onto the couch and faced him.

One long forefinger pointed at her, "Who told you about April?"

"Oh, so now you remember her."

The Goblin King leaned in on her, his hands grasping at the furniture attempting to keep them from tightening around her throat. "In case you forgot, I was trying to keep a kingdom together, a kingdom that some foolish little child had shattered with a few carelessly strung together words." Drawing back her hand she moved to strike him. As he had done before he smoothly caught her by the wrist. "I strongly caution you against doing that."

For a minute, Sarah forgot that he had just been talking about killing her. She remembered that night at her apartment, the way he'd grabbed her like he had just now. The tension in her arm relaxed and Jareth let her go. "So why did you save me, then?"

"I had to," his tone softened. "I couldn't just let you die."

Leaning into him, Sarah did her best to pout. She meant to look into his eyes, but focused on his mouth instead. "You couldn't?" her fingers trailed over his shoulder. "Why?"

Jareth did his best to ignore the creamy beige thigh that was showing from beneath her robe. He lifted his glove to her cheek. "No I couldn't," his eyes peering deeply into Sarah's. "You see I have no power over you which means that if I want to see you punished I needed to keep you alive long enough to get you to the Triumvirate." He patted the side of her face and leaned back, content that he had gotten well under her skin.

"You're taking me to the Triumvirate?"

"Of course I am."

"And if I refuse to go?"

"There's nothing for you to refuse, you are my prisoner."

"I am not!" Sarah drew her knees to her chest and pouted. "I can leave any time I please."

"Really?" Palm supporting his chin, the king drummed his fingers over his lips. "Where will you go?"

"Back to Hoggle's."

"So the dwarf is the one who helped you stalk me?"

"I'm not stalking you." She had intended to apologize, but now that he was acting like such an ass, he could just forget about it.

"How did you get here? Did Hedge Hog bring you here?"

"His name is Hoggle," Sarah emphasized, "and no, he didn't bring me here. You brought me here!"

"Impossible, I have no magic when it comes to you or any other mortal for that matter."

Sarah smiled at him feeling as though she had the upper hand, enjoying what she was about to level him with. "You left your jacket at my house. I found one of your crystals in the pocket."

The Goblin King growled irritated with himself. "You used my crystal?"

"Finders keepers," the mortal replied.

"Oh, very mature Sarah."

"As mature as keeping someone prisoner in your castle." This wasn't going the least bit like Sarah had imagined. She wanted to apologize, make things right. She wanted him to speak to her the way he had once before, with romantic promises and words of love. Instead they were battling like two adolescents in a school yard.

Jareth was furious with her for pushing his buttons, furious with himself for leaving the crystal behind. She was hard to love and he had thought he wanted rid of her, but now that she was here, maybe he didn't. If only he hadn't made that call to the Triumvirate this afternoon. Too late now he decided as he watched her staring off towards his bed. The robe had fallen back exposing all of her leg now which was more temptation than he needed, "Why don't you get dressed?"

In all the time she'd been awake since her bath, Sarah had never bothered to put on the gown that Arulan had left behind. She looked down at herself now realizing how much the terry robe exposed. 'Christ,' she thought, 'He can't even look at me.' Not wanting to offend the king with any more of her revolting flesh, Sarah smoothed the robe over her rump as she stood. The beautiful carving on the footboard caught her eye for the first time. The waterfall and dancing fairies seemed a curious thing for Jareth to have carved into his bed. Wondering what the story was behind all the ornate pictures he chose to keep so close, in such a personal place as his bed, she lifted the silk chemise and robe from the bed. On her way to the bath, she watched Jareth staring into the fire. Somewhere inside him was the fey who loved her and even if she needed to be shameless about it she would bring that fey to the surface.

"Damn him for being so stubborn," Sarah told her reflection as she changed into her bed clothes. "And damn the Triumvirate too. What are they going to punish me for? I'm the reason their kingdom is repairing itself. If anything they should be catering to me, seeing that I'm comfortable and my needs are met." The seamstress had sewn together a perfect gown for the mortal, tight where it should have been, flowing like liquid mercury where tight was less appropriate. With the robe on, Sarah felt less revealed and for now she was content to leave it that way. She washed her face and plaited back her hair, leaving a few pieces to spiral loosely around her face. Satisfied with her appearance she, reemerged making a slight noise as if to clear her throat, when in reality she was trying to catch Jareth's attention. It was no use, he was still staring into the fire, oblivious to her.

Closing in on him, it was plain to see that he had fallen asleep. Arulan did say that the king was up all night, plus he'd gone to work today, whatever that entailed. He must be very tired she rationalized. Sarah was starving. With her host resting peacefully, she thought she could go seek out her own sustenance rather than disturb him. As quietly as she could, Sarah opened the large door and slipped into the hall. Grey stone comprised the walls to either side of her. Little decoration filled the space, some armor, some weaponry and scattered sconces to light the way. Before she could even reach the stairs the Goblin King was before her.

"Thought you could escape did you?"

"No, I was just…"

Without even allowing her to finish her justification Jareth scooped her up over his shoulders. Her small fists pounding into his back. "Let me down! Jareth, you put me on my feet this instant or I will…"

"You will what? Scream! You're already doing a fine job of that. You shouldn't have tried to escape." He threw open the door to the bedroom.

Most of Sarah was upset with him not letting her explain, but one small part of her was very excited by his assertiveness. "I wasn't trying to escape," she whimpered in her defense just before he tossed her on to the bed so hard that it made her bounce off the mattress a few times before her body lie still. The king's hair had gotten tussled in the process and his painter's shirt had slid to one side of his shoulders revealing the pale chest Sarah had tried so hard to reach for in her dream. "I was just hungry." Her voice sounded childlike making her wish she could stuff the words back down her throat and repeat them in a more suggestive way.

Eyeing her suspiciously, Jareth used a flute to call for Arulan. The elf came into his quarters with a smile trying to hide itself on her lips. It pleased her to find his majesty in such close proximity to the mortal, especially bedside. Once he spoke, her hopes were dashed, "Get our prisoner," he said with distaste, "something to eat. She has grown so hungry that she felt the need to attempt an escape."

Sarah propped up on her elbows causing her robe to open wide, the lace bodice of her chemise revealed. "For the last time, I didn't want to escape." Her eyes moved to catch Jareth's, but his were already captured by the blend of creamy beige, lavender and lace that was exposed for anyone to notice. Arulan took the two of them in. They were playing a game of cat and mouse, she only hoped neither of them was stupid enough to lose each other again.

For an uncomfortably long moment, they continued to look over each other not realizing that Arulan had left the room. Sarah enjoyed catching him looking at her this way. She liked to think that he was still at least attracted to her, even if she had destroyed any chance there was for him to love her. It was only fair, her being able to use her body to torment him, for she had grown to hunger for him. That was his fault. Kissing her the way he had, letting her think that after all this time he would still come for her when he made his way into her world. Now she missed the things she had never even known before, the scent of him, the feel of him, the taste of him, all laced with magic, magic that made her come alive.

Jareth enjoyed taking in his mortal. The lines of her tone figure were pleasing to his eye. More than her breasts, more than her legs, more than the subtle hill that extended beneath her waist he, loved to look at her face, until that bratty mouth of hers opened. Then he grew overcome by the urge to hold her lips closed with his own until she ended her silly objections. But there was a piece of him that hated her, hated her for denying him, for making it so that he could never love another, making it so difficult to love her. Lost in thought, Jareth hadn't noticed that it was no longer just his heart which was filling with want. The tightening in his breeches made him turn around as inconspicuously as possible and sweep up his jacket, draping it over his forearm and holding it waist high before him so that it covered the rather obvious bulge that had begun to form.

"I'm going to take a bath," he announced. Thinking that he sounded awful foolish being so vocal about his bathroom habits, the king cringed as he reached out for the door. Once secluded inside, he ran a luke warm tub and dunked himself inside hoping it would chase away the flow of blood to his groin. Nothing with this woman was ever as it seemed to be. When she seemed to hate him, she loved him. When she seemed to turn him away, she wanted him. The Goblin King could no longer guess what she was thinking, but his suspicious nature made it difficult to trust her.

Still in his bed, Sarah peeled back the covers and snuggled inside their folds. Suddenly she felt quite weak, an odd sensation that started at her knees and when up to her head. She was cold, except for a few places that burned from within.

Arulan returned with Sarah's meal while Jareth was still in the bath. "Excuse me Sarah," she said placing the tray on the bedside table. "I've brought your dinner. I've got a quarter section of chicken, some potatoes and some fresh greens from his majesty's garden. If you don't like chicken, there's some lamb that I could bring or more soup."

"No Arulan, I don't mind chicken. This is fine. It looks wonderful." Sarah immediately dove a fork into the potatoes. Her appetite had most definitely returned.

"Oh where's my head," the elf said tossing her arms into the air. "Chef's made the most beautiful peach cobbler for desert and I haven't even brought you any. I'll be right back."

As she turned to go, Jareth came from the bath, his hair still damp and already in his pajamas. "Arulan?"

"Your majesty?" she said startled.

"I will take my meal here with the mortal. I no longer trust her to be left alone since her escape attempt earlier."

"Yes your grace."

"And Arulan?"

"Yes your grace?"

"I'll need you to have Gribbin organize two horses and travel supplies for morning."

"Your grace?"

He approached his servant and spoke lowly, "Two horses and travel supplies Arulan, by morning."

"You can't be thinking of taking her to them."

"I must. She must be dealt with."

Her forearms rested on his chest, something Sarah took great interest in, "Please your majesty, take pity on the girl. It is obvious the two of you still feel something for one another. I beg you."

"Gribbin should set up enough to sustain us for up to one week. Without magic, we'll have to travel to the mountains the mortal way." His black silk gloves folded over her wrists, "There's nothing I can do. I've already called them and made an appointment for three days from tomorrow's sunrise. I will say what I can in her defense, but she must be brought before them. Otherwise, if they were to discover her on their own," he paused, "fear that she would have faired better with the Pooka."

Arulan saw in his eyes that he was genuine. The mortal was getting to that part of him that he had locked away. She only hoped that they would find their way to one another, find away around Jareth's being hurt and her being mortal. The pair would have many obstacles to overcome, Arulan knew this, but she also knew that in all of Jareth's life no woman had ever owned his soul, until now.

When his tray was served he took his meal on the settee by the fire. Chef was serving an herb encrusted lamb which induced a great thirst in the king. He rose to pour himself a goblet of mead. "Can I get you a glass?" he asked Sarah.

"I'm sorry?" she said barely able to hear him as he grumbled into the corner.

"I'm pouring a glass of mead for my dinner, would you like one?"

"What's mead?"

The king turned to her, the decanter still in his hand, his weight shifted to one side obviously annoyed with the conversation which had been born out of a rather simple question. "It is a honey wine, very common here. If you like, I also have merlot or a light Chardonnay."

"A Chardonnay would be nice," she replied.

He brought the glass to her, purposefully thumbing her fingers as she removed the crystal goblet from his palm. "Thank you," she said accepting the beverage, her eyes on his. "You could come up here and eat," the words blurted from between her lips without her permission. "I mean, if you don't want to eat alone."

"Would you enjoy my company?"

"If you stopped accusing me of trying to escape and weren't so defensive, perhaps I might." She cursed herself for sending as many mixed messages to him as she was receiving.

"I'm not defensive. You just misunderstand everything."

"See what I mean?"

"Hmpf!" Jareth went back to his tray mumbling, "Well at least I didn't mention your trying to escape again." When he'd left her side, he had intended to go back to the couch and eat, but now as he looked at his tray he saw his fingers wrapping through the handles and lifting it up so that he could go join her. 'What am I doing?' he found himself asking, but nonetheless, repositioned his meal so that it could be eaten while he watched the mortal, who seemed so small in his massive bed, so defenseless despite her sharp tongue.

Sarah smiled at him from the corner of her eye beneath two tendrils. "So, what's new?" 'Tell me I didn't just say that,' she cried inside.

Jareth just gave her a very confused look, his eyes rolled up high in their sockets as he paused mid-bite at the question.

"You know what I meant, how have you been?" Met with that same look, Sarah knew she wasn't getting any better at this. Trying to avoid saying anything else embarrassing, she returned her attention to her meal and filled her mouth with a forkful of greens.

The king sensed her tension. In truth he didn't know what to say to her unless it was being said in the heat of the moment, friendly banter had never come easy between the two of them. "I've been as best as could be expected." Keeping his answer short he busied his tongue by bathing it in a swig of mead.

'Me too,' Sarah thought. This had not been the best topic to discuss she decided. "I like your bed," she said cheerfully. Mead spurted from between Jareth's lips as he began to choke on the droplets that had gotten sucked into his airway. Sarah wished she could pull the covers over her head and vanish. "I mean, I've been very comfortable in it." Jareth looked at her quizzically between coughs. "The carvings are very interesting, quite pretty."

"Thank you," he finally managed. "My father had a similar bed built for my mother when he first came here. It is patterned after that."

"The dream catcher in her tomb, is that from her headboard?"

"Who took you to the tomb?" He questioned, his eyes blazing as he slammed his silverware onto the tray.

"No one," Sarah shook as she replied.

"How did you get in?"

"I…I asked permission of the guard."

"Didymus! I might have known he'd give you anything you wanted. You have them all wrapped around your finger. That place is none of your business and I forbid you to go there ever again."

"I think it's sweet," her voice still shaking in fear of him. Jareth was an attractive male, even when he was angry, but he was also powerful even without his magic. It was the powerful tone that came from his otherwise benevolent lips which shook her from within.

"Do you now?" Seeing her intense reaction to him having raised his voice he spoke more sternly and less loudly, refusing to meet her eyes.

"I do. Building a place like that where you can remember your mother. Giving her the dream catcher so that her eternal sleep will be filled with pleasant dreams."

"Little you know," the king huffed.

"Tell me then."

"You think you want to know, but you don't"

"I do," she protested. "I really do." Sarah moved the tray away, through eating for now. Her stomach was near exploding, but it felt good to have solid food in her so she tried not to pay any attention to what little discomfort she had.

"Leanan Sidhe is many histories old."

Sarah looked at him quizzically, "Why don't you call her mother?"

"Do you want to know about the dream catcher or not?" He didn't wish to discuss intimate things with her. He was angry that she had gone into his mother's tomb, angry that she had seen that deeply into him and yet seen nothing at all.

Sarah nodded.

"As I said, Leanan Sidhe is many histories old and has visited all regions of the Aboveground. In Scandinavia they named her Skagsfru. She became known as the forest fairy with the fatal touch. They, the mortals, told tales of how she would lure men into the woods and make love to them until she was able to suck the soul from his body. On the Isle of Man she was tagged the Dark Seductress, who would seduce her victims and draw their spirit out leaving him a ruined husk in body and soul. Bonga Maiden was her name in India, a capricious nature spirit who enticed, and even dared to marry, human men. But the lands that seem to know her best were the Americas. To the Lakota and other Native American tribes she earned the title Deer Maiden. Leanan Sidhe had great power to inspire artists, painters, poets, musicians, she shared her gift with them all. Rumors held that some of them went mad when their mortal minds failed to adapt to the flood of ideas that she gave them. As you can probably tell from her portrait, she was a strikingly beautiful creature with long dark hair and deep set eyes. Mortal men found her very attractive. Her tongue could spin silvery words out of rust making the cruelest insult sound like a robin's song."

'So that's where he got it, ' she thought."She sounds like a wonderful woman," Sarah added when Jareth paused in his account of his mother's history. "Only it seems that she's been incredible misunderstood."

"I suppose that could be true. I can't say that I knew her very well, Sarah. She died when I was very young."

"Didymus told me how she stayed too long in the Aboveground."

"She was a fool, in life and in death, a fool. Leanan Sidhe's soul returned home when her body died. Of course it was as stubborn as it ever had been. She terrorized the Labyrinth and that is why I built the tomb."

"To give her some place to call home, but why the dream catcher from her bed?"

"You ask many questions, Sarah." Jareth pointed out as he gathered their goblets and went to refresh their drinks.

"I'm sorry, I just like getting to know people."

"No need to apologize. There is much here which I assume you will be curious about." The king handed her the refilled goblet and they both drank. "You know about dream catchers?"

"I studied anthropology in high school. They were hung over beds, mostly children's, where they would collect all the pleasant dreams to hold for the sleeper and all the nightmares would pass through the hole in the center."

"Yes," he said, impressed that she had recalled something she had learned so long ago. "When Leanan Sidhe would visit the new world she met an Native American, he was not a chief or a medicine man, but he was better thought of than any other warrior. Somewhat of a wiseman he was, trusted and respected among his tribe. I am told that he treated Leanan Sidhe like his own child, refusing to believe the vicious rumors that were abound, believing in her, wishing her well. His name was Dyami. It means equal. Fitting as he was a very just man, fair and impartial. He crafted the dream catcher for her, in hopes that it would help hold all good things close to her while letting the pain and heartache pass through. I thought that it might help to quiet her soul."

"Why raven's feathers?" Sarah understood Jareth's headboard and the owl feathers, "Could your mother transform?"

"Indeed, but mother was a water breed. Dyami chose the raven feathers because of mother's hair."

Sarah watched as his eyes grew distant. It did not go unnoticed that he had called her mother for once. It was obvious that there was a great deal more pain behind his tale than he cared to admit. Her nature was to push the issue, but the Goblin King did not respond well to being pushed. Instead she asked, "What about the flower?"

"It is a Calla Lily kept perpetually under crystal. It will live forever."

"Isn't that kind of depressing, not to mention oxymoronic?"

Jareth finished his drink in one swallow and went for another fill. Sarah raised a hand politely refusing when he offered her more. "I suppose you could say there is some irony to it," the king agreed. "It is a flower associated with death and so for it to live forever must seem odd. But depressing? Really Sarah, I would have thought you far less provincial, you being a student of the arts and all. Don't they make you study interpretation in your mortal schools?" When he returned with his goblet he sat beside her on the bed. "The Calla Lily is a flower of singularity and unchallenged beauty, a flower your kind," he said the word with loathing in his tone, "has graced that which you shall carry with you when you are called home to your God as a symbol of his forgiveness for your sins."

"How do you know so much about my kind?"

"I work with them," he said flatly as his lips revisited the rim of his cup. "It's late and you've already had your bedtime story." The king moved to draw the covers over her. Her hands blocked him and she stood to remove her robe.

Feeling his eyes roam over her as she did so, Sarah moved even slower toward him. "I can't sleep in this thing," she explained as she lay the garment over the back of the chair where Jareth had been sitting. "Besides I really shouldn't keep you from your bed another night." Turning she looked innocently at him. After a moment, he managed to find her eyes.

"Thing of it is, I can't trust you, why with you trying to escape this afternoon and all."

"So we're back to that."

"We are." The king reached for the flute on the bedside table. Lifting it to his lips he played.

Arulan came in seconds later and gave a slight curtsy, "Yes, yer majesty?"

"Some blankets and pillows, Arulan. I wish to make my bed on the settee for tonight, in case our guest," he emphasized the word, "wishes to depart without my knowing in the middle of the night."

"Yes, yer majesty." As quickly as she came she was gone, the dinner trays taken with her.

Sarah crawled back in on the other side of the bed, "I don't know why your making such a fuss. There's more than enough room for us both in the bed."

Jareth's eyes drank her in. It didn't seem to matter how much he did that, observed her, he was still thirsting for the sight of her, hungry for the touch of her. "Sarah, there's not enough room in this kingdom for both of us, let alone that bed." With what little will the alcohol had left behind, the king took to the couch, waiting for his servant to return. Legs that were as unnaturally long as his fingers propped up on the leather of the settee. Jareth fingers laced behind his head so he could watch Sarah huffing and patting at the downy pillows trying to get comfortable. "Something the matter?"

"Just getting comfortable," Sarah told him.

The elf returned with blankets and pillows to spare and went about readying the couch for his majesty. Before she could finish, he dismissed her. "Where will you be going tomorrow," Sarah asked, still not tired enough to go to sleep.

"You'll see when we get there?"

"I'm going with you?"

"Indeed. Without magic it will take quite a while to reach our destination. I assure you that tomorrow will be quite a long day for you. Now shut your eyes and sleep." He made it clear that the topic was not open for debate. As he lay staring at the ceiling taking in steady deep breaths of lavender scent he whispered, "For some it may be an even longer night."