CHAPTER THIRTY - THE KING'S COURT

Arulan left two silver trays in the king's sitting area. She'd come in quietly, hoping he would have good news to tell her of the night before and met the king's hushed 'ssshhh' from behind his forefinger as he rested against the headboard, a sleeping Sarah in his arms. His servant smiled and retreated, happy at what she had stumbled upon. Not long after, Sarah awoke. "Good morning," Jareth smiled down at her.

Inhaling his scent deeply, Sarah returned his smile and rose her lips to meet his, "Good morning." Her arms held him tightly, a feeling he'd grown dependant upon as of late. "I suppose if I'm awake then last night, the song, making love to you, not a dream?"

"On the contrary, a dream that I shall endeavor from this day forth to make last." One more kiss and he was back to business. "Much as I hate to think we've ever got to leave this bed, there is work to be done and if I am to court you, it means planning all kinds of lovely things in your honor, which I find it very hard to do with you so near me, especially wearing nothing."

The smell of breakfast caught her nose and combined with the king's reminder that she had been nude. "Oh God, breakfast is here. Arulan didn't see, did she?"

Human modesty confounded him, especially when hers was such a fine specimen deserving of being displayed. "I summoned those trays myself," he lied to make her feel better; "however, I'm sure she realized you were somewhere when she found your bed empty and the door open." Nudging toward the door that joined their rooms, Jareth smirked.

"I'm so embarrassed."

"What's to be embarrassed over? This is what Arulan has wanted for us for quite some time now. Come and eat, it's too early in the morning for worries." Jareth's magic wrapped him in a black silk robe. Creating a blue one for Sarah, he grabbed her by the hand and led her to the trays. "Who's coming to help us eat this?" he asked.

It was an impressive array. Pancakes, eggs, sausage and fruit. "Not a problem," Sarah said, digging in immediately. "I'm starving." Jareth couldn't help smiling at her refreshing spirit. Besides, he'd like to think he was at least partially responsible for her appetite. His mind drifted.

"Aren't you going to eat?" Sarah asked when she'd almost finished and he had yet to put what was on the end of his fork into his mouth.

"Huh?" Jareth shook loose the lurid ideas he was having. "I'll just pick at the eggs. I'm rather anxious to begin planning these next two weeks. Although he'd said he would eat, the king stood up and went to his bedside table. The pink head of his anxiousness poking from between the slit in his robe.

"So it would seem," Sarah giggled.

Jareth blushed, actually blushed, for probably the first time since his childhood. "By the bog! That seems to be a permanent side effect of your company."

"Well I find it rather flattering," she said rushing to his side and planting a kiss on his cheek. "Are you going to be in your office today?"

He looked at her with a curled lip and a raised brow, "Not twenty four hours into our courtship and you're already laying claim to everything I own. As a matter of fact, I had planned on getting caught up on things, seeing what Deverell has set aside for me, perhaps a few other things for which your presence may not be desired." Her hurt expression made him rephrase, "Entirely appropriate, I meant entirely appropriate. You are always desired, believe me when I tell you that." His arms drew her close once more. This time he kissed her deeply and passionately, which she had not expected.

Flustered, Sarah attempted to remember what it is she was thinking of before he'd done that. "Books!" she cried as if she had been the first one to discover them. "I'd like to get some books from you office before you commandeer it." She smiled. "Is there a sitting room or some place where I could get some work done?"

"You are supposed to be helping Mason," he reminded her.

A pouty lip jutted out from Sarah's chin, "He doesn't like help. It makes him feel useless, besides, what I want to do is as important to the restoration of the Underground as the physical labor."

"Really?" Sarah shook her head. "How's that?"

"Jareth, I'm shocked. You know where I come from it isn't just the guys who do the courting. Have you even paused to consider that I may have a surprise or two in store for you."

"Dear woman, the thought drives me." He jerked his eyes wide at the thought. "As you wish. There is a sitting room just down the hall from my office, one with a large table where you can read the day away without having to lug the volumes very far. Does that sound to your liking?"

"Indeed it does, thank you." Satisfied she began crossing back to her room where she could dress. Jareth being what Jareth was, could not resist propping against the door and watching the robe hit the floor, her bare back and bottom free for his appraisal before being hidden all too quickly beneath the thin cotton of a yellow dress. As Sarah pulled the sling back of yellow sandals over her heel, the corner of her eye caught his satisfied stare. "Oh you" Raven locks bounced as she flew across the room to him, taking him into her arms. "Won't you tire of me when I'm old and..." A sudden realization stopped her words, "Jareth, I'm going to continue to grow old, while you remain as you are and eventually..."

"Don't, don't do this to yourself. You were so happy a minute ago. These are all questions that we don't need to concern ourselves with, not yet. And I will never tire of you, not the sight, not the feel, not the taste." His lips kissed hers gently, sincerely, but Sarah didn't return his kiss. He knew she'd not taken his advice.

Books spread across the table in the sitting room Jareth had given Sarah to work in. She had read quite a bit about the various breeds of the Underground. A lot of it was related to the Sidhe, but in the small room cluttering up the table was nothing but Sidhe related volumes. While Jareth attempted to win her heart, she had decided to put together the end all beat all surprise for him. She would figure out the mystery that was his mother and put to rest the question which burned into his mind: What makes the king incapable of being loved?

For hours, she turned page after page, scrawling notes and leaving strips of paper to mark pages she might come back to. When Sarah finally looked up and saw how much time she'd spent with her nose in the books, she ground at her tired eyes. For a moment she decided to rest her head on the pile of literature before her. As Jareth opened the door it startled her back to attention, "Diligently reading I see."

"I was until about thirty seconds ago," she defended her moment's rest.

"Sure you were," he smirked. "I was wondering if you might like to have dinner with me this evening.

"Aren't we all having dinner together?" she asked.

Jareth moved closer to her as had become his instinct in the last day, "I thought, if you were up for it, a private dinner in my private dinning room. Can I count on your attendance?" Sarah nodded. "Fine. Seven, I'll pick you up in your room."

"Are you asking or telling?"

"Asking of course," which was a lie, but a very nice save on the king's part.

"In that case, seven will be fine." Sarah yawned, "Now let me get a few more volumes in before dinner," she said resting her head on the books again and smiling up at him.

"I seem to forever be owing you an apology," Sarah said as Arulan pinned her hair into an intricate bundle of curls. By the 20th pin she'd completely lost count, imagining she would be finding these tiny ornaments tucked very near her scalp for days to come.

The elf smiled at her in the mirror, "Whatever have you to apologize for?"

"All the misgivings I had when it came to you and Jareth. I was incredibly off base. All this afternoon I couldn't help thinking back on some of the things I had said to you. You must have thought me mad."

Shrugging, she admitted, "I did sometimes wonder why you took things so terribly personally. I only wish I had known what you were thinking, I'd have straightened you out before you had to go through that."

Smiling, Sarah's head fell in a shy downward tilt. "I'm kind of glad you didn't. I don't think I've ever had a single moment like that one in my life and if even a word of it had been different...it wouldn't have been as perfect."

Clutching a comb to her chest, Arulan exclaimed, "It was perfect, wasn't it? I mean I don't mean to toot Jareth's horn, but he made the most exquisite song and you all dressed up like that. What are the odds?"

"You know I wasn't just dressed like that to apologize." Arulan bobbed her head. "I had a talk with Hoggle that afternoon. I was going to tell Jareth that I..."

"Love him?" the elf finished.

Sarah spun on the stool where she sat, "I think I do. I'm terrified to tell him that I do if I don't truly. He makes a very big distinction when it comes to that and Arulan, I quite frankly don't know if I've ever truly loved anyone. What's the difference?"

"When it comes to Jareth, it's not my place to tell you. When it comes to you," Arulan took her gently by the shoulders, "only you can tell. I promise you when the time comes, and I so hope it does, you won't have any doubt."

Folding her arms around Arulan, Sarah hugged her tightly, "Thank you."

"Me? Heaven's no. I haven't done a thing."

"You! You've done everything. Every stitch of clothes, every pair of shoes, my most impressive hairstyles. It was you who made the Goblin King notice me."

"Gracious how you exaggerate." She turned Sarah back around to face the mirror so she could finish her hair. "Jareth would notice you in a roomful of done up women." The girl blushed, "Keep that up and we won't need to worry about your make up."

"That face doesn't need a thing. It's absolutely perfect the way it is." Jareth leaned in the doorway his legs crossed at the ankles. He wore navy breeches, tucked into high black boots. A silver painter's shirt held down by a black leather vest, all covered over by a navy frock coat studded with rhinestones. Lacy sleeves extended from beneath the cuffs of the coat and nearly covered his hands, but for the ends of his lengthy, leather encased fingers. Arulan smiled, curtsied and left the room. Sarah stood leaving her A-line skirt to twirl around her thighs. "Blue," he noticed in the faint glow of the candles from the wall sconce.

"Your favorite color," she said coming nearer to him. Jareth lost himself in the vision she was. Not just her most basic beauty, but the dress, her hair done up in a stack of curls. Sarah brought a light to everything she touched, even the king and Jareth was beginning to realize it. From between his curling lips, jagged teeth sparkled.

Sarah couldn't resist the urge to reach out to him. As her hands fell upon the ruffles of his shirt, she managed to trail a finger from each hand along the opening over his chest. Catching the medallion, she looked it over and then looked at the silver chain which hung from her own neck. The tiny charm which dangled from it an identical match, set to scale, making it more feminine and delicate. "They're very unique," she remarked when she had completed her examination. "What do they stand for?"

"Why don't I tell you over dinner?" Jareth asked as he straightened his posture and took her arm to feed through his. "In fact there is much I have to tell you if you are ever going to love me...for something other than my body." Though to keep in the spirit of teasing her, Jareth looked away, it did not hide the smirk on his lips.

Playing along, Sarah mustered a smirk of her own and cleverly chided, "What's so wrong with that?"

'She was learning,' he thought as he led her down the hall.

It was called the King's private dining room, but as Sarah looked through the door she was agog at the massiveness of what was supposed to be an intimate room. The table and chairs were constructed of rich, almost black wood, thick in it's cut and simple in its style. It could have easily sat eight comfortably, but tonight it was set for two. Jareth at the head and his mortal in the seat to his left. The dining set held a huge rug to the floor beneath it, woven of red and gold fibers with black accents. There were two wingback leather chairs, both a rich maroon, to either side of an end table before a fireplace off to the right and in an area further back, a twenty foot square section had been raised, the floor polished hard wood. Sarah assumed it was for dancing. Over the windows hung heavy wine colored curtains, thin lace sheers beneath them allowed the sun to shine through the glass and ignite the traces of gold in the lavish marble floor. From the walls hung polished silver sconces, through which a gentle glow illuminated the room nicely.

"This is a private dining room?" she asked amazed.

Jareth chuckled, "It's not often that I dine with only one other in my company. When this room was utilized the most, Oberon's father, Aggedor, was busy negotiating terms of the treaty to end the raids. He and the elders seemed to dine here three nights a week or more, so I was told."

"Treaty to end the raids?"

Jareth guided her, his hand at the small of her back. They sat in the leather chairs before the fireplace, "If you would be so kind," he indicated to the cold, empty hearth.

Almost effortlessly, Sarah ignited a flame in the pit. Jareth's eyebrow rose, impressed at how her magic had developed. Though she too was impressed at the quickness with which she had learned to call the elements, her fascination with his history of the Underground intrigued her more. One of the servants brought them two glasses of brandy. "Thank you," Sarah said raising her glass to her lips and sampling the liquor inside.

"Many centuries ago, when Oberon was roughly my age. Mortals had found an opening into our realm. They hunted the creatures here, the dragons, the unicorn, the centaurs. When they were asked to stop, they smuggled the creatures back to their world to breed and hunt there. But mythicals are not foolish creatures on the whole and many of them bested the mortals. Dragons learned to breath fire, the unicorn learned to disguise itself, what have you. The mortals returned, to our realm, attending fairy rings, like the one we went to. No harm may come to anyone at a ring, you understand, regardless of what they are, unless they offend the fairies, then mercy save them." Jareth couldn't help but to notice the way Sarah hung to each word he said, her interest in the history of his world more than casual. A quick sip of brandy and he continued. "They attempted to mate with some of the fey breeds, they fell victim to the Selkie and other unwholesome characters. When their world began to fill with changeling babies they called on us to take them away. Soon we were a convenient way for them to wish away unwanted children. By night they called us, by morning's light they cried, 'The goblins have taken my child. Heaven help me, they've stolen my babe.'"

"In legions, the mortals came and burnt our towns, poisoned our streams and lynched our people. None of them understood there were only three ways to kill a true immortal. Iron, introduced into the blood, a full beheading or entrapment, which means an immor..."

"Being taken above ground and held there until the lack of magic in the atmosphere causes death." Sarah finished his explanation for him.

"Indeed. So you've done more than sleep upon those books, I see." He smiled at her over the rim of his glass. "Once they found we were not easily killed we became looked upon as creatures of the devil's own hand. Rumors of our evil doings began to abound in mortal folklore. The humans began to infiltrate small sections, pretending to befriend a class or a race, convincing them they were to be the target of some attack of an opposing class or race, swearing their knowledge was offered in benevolence, compassion for the species under attack. Before long, the realm was pitted against itself. Dwarfs and elves fought to the death, goblins and orcs, fey against fey. Slaughtered by the thousands until the Triumvirate were appointed by the fey elders and given an army comprised of a sampling from every class, every race, every breed in equal number. Among them, Aggedor. He was perhaps the most instrumental in putting an end to the raids, choosing from each group, one who would participate in the development of a set of laws by which our realm would function, composing the treaty and negotiating for months until he was at last able to collect the signature of every representative, of every elder. His work was a large reason why Oberon was chosen to be king. He was the son of a respected fey, one of the first deemed a true royal in the Underground."

Savagery had always been part of the Aboveground. Surely it could be found written between the lines of a history text or scrawled in fine print on the foot of the many monuments which honored those who had died in the names of freedom and bravery. Such truths of what humans were capable of doing to one another were not public knowledge and history was carefully designed to make it stay that way, but for those who quested for truth. Despite what Sarah knew people were capable of doing to one another, what they had done here shocked her. From the first time she'd set foot here as an adult, Sarah was in awe of the things she saw. Paradise to be found, but for looking, in every corner, a place for everyone and everyone free to find their place. "No wonder everyone here hates my kind."

"Not everyone," he reassured her with a pat to the back of her hand.

Sarah set down her glass, "When I think about my kind burning your villages, lynching, poisoning, it's barbaric. Aggedor ended the raids, but what about my people, how did you free yourselves of the mortals?"

Jareth had begun to regret his decision to share the history of his world with her. "The mortals were asked to sign the treaty. It was their idea to strengthen the door between their reality and our worlds of magic. Such an idea was more than readily accepted by the counsel for the realm and the most experienced healers and magicians were asked to assemble. They tried several times to create a suitable barrier between the worlds. At last, they were able to devise a method in which our people could not go Aboveground equipped with magic unless we were called. The incantation was horribly specific, as I'm sure you remember. It was no less specific when other species are called upon. Mortals access to our world was even more restricted, although it would be some time before they realized it. For the greater part, everyone was satisfied with the decision, but for one consequence. Everything mortal that was in our realm remained as everything immortal which was Aboveground at the time the barrier was put in place remained."

"That's when Man Island came to be," she suggested. The king nodded. "Remarkable."

"And so the worlds were separated forever, but for the mythicals who had work Aboveground and but for the few weak spots in the barrier the magicians and healers put in place, giving mortals a tiny glimpse or a brief interaction with us."

"Work?"

"When summoned, whether through words, as I was to you, or through actions, as Quidam is when a rainbow appears, there are a number of immortals who can join your realm for a time to accomplish a chore before the return. For most of us, work Aboveground is at a minimum, excluding Mr. Claus and the damnable long eared tattle tale he shares a sector with. Entrapment still happens, but it's more a coincidence these days than it was before the raids."

"That's why the words have to be just so, that's why everything that gets said here is examined thoroughly." Sarah watched him nod slowly at her realization. 'That's why she must truly love him,' she thought. "Thank you for taking the time to tell me about the history of your world Jareth."

"There are far more pleasant tales I could have chosen to tell you."

"So there may be, but it was important for you to tell me that one. I'm glad you did."

His hand reached for hers. She was far more capable of letting go of her mortality than even Jareth had imagined. As Sarah found herself being pulled into the lap of the king, a tiny voice interrupted them, "Beg your pardon. Dinner is served."

Jareth rose from his chair a look of great disappointment wearing on his face. Leading her to the table, he drew out the chair, let her sit and then eased her up to the table. The king then took his seat before the servant brought them salads and mead. When they were alone again, Sarah leaned across the corner of the table. "Now I know how your family came to hold the throne, but how did you get to be king?"

"Isn't that evident?"

"No. Oberon had two children, the first died."

"Murdered," he said pointedly between bites of his salad. "The second fathered my mother, who married and had me. Both my parents died and now I'm king."

"Some how I think you've managed to leave out a few details."

He smirked, "I tire quickly of talking about myself Sarah darling, what say we talk about you for a bit?"

"Me?" Sarah asked him. "What could you possibly find so interesting about me?"

"Plenty," he told her. "Essentially, I know very little about you. It's like we're meeting again for the first time."

"And all that spying you've done through those crystal balls of yours, what was that for?"

"Must we call it spying, Sarah? I mean the fact that I chose to keep tabs on you for a number of years, doesn't exactly amount to spying." Another set of servants brought out trays with poached salmon, rice and a vegetable mix. Everything done to the perfect texture. "Thank you," Jareth said as he dismissed them.

"What would you like to call it?" Sarah reached for her glass of water. There was more pepper on the salmon than she was used to and the taste burnt her tongue. The ice looked almost crushed only in perfectly even pieces and all at the bottom of the glass.

"Concern, perhaps? Keeping in touch with a good friend? There are a plethora of finer ways to title my spying."

"Ah, so you admit it." Sarah giggled at his attempt to out talk her. "Now how is it you've managed to spy on me all this time and yet still feel you have something to learn?"

"Sarah, my love, you will forever be a mystery I want to unravel." Jareth took a long sip of water drawing some of the 'ice' into his mouth and crunching it loudly between his jagged teeth. "You are a constantly evolving creature for which my thirst of knowledge may never be quenched. No matter how much I know already, I will always want for more." Having made his point, Jareth rose the goblet to his lips and took a long sip.

Giving in a bit, Sarah began to weave a tale for the king. "I was born a coal miner's daughter."

"While amusing, I must warn you I have a rather extensive mortal music base and I believe that line has already been used."

"Caught me," she admitted, her eyes catching his and a laugh curving her lips. Sarah took a few pieces of 'ice' in to her mouth as well. When they refused to dissolve, she attempted to crush them with her teeth.

A wave of Jareth's hand stopped her in mid-chomp. "I wouldn't do that if I was you."

"Why?" asked an inquisitive Sarah as she spat the crystals into her hand. "Jareth, are these diamonds?"

"How else would you make sparkling water, but to add a bit of ice."

She'd heard diamonds referred to as ice Aboveground, "So, that's where that expression came from."

"Um hum. Now you were about to tell me the details of your family."

"But you just ground a diamond with your teeth."

"No use trying to change the subject."

"Fine. Mother was an actress, and when I was just entering my 'formidable' years, as she called them, her passion for daddy had all but died. She'd met another man. They were in a play together and he encouraged her to run away with him, leave behind the husband and the daughter, which only served to slow her down and embrace a world of freedom which they would explore together. Obviously, the temptation was too great for she did precisely as he had asked." Though the salmon was soft as butter, Jareth thought he noticed Sarah's knife sawing through it as if the anger that should have been coming out in her voice had transferred into her hands. "Father took the whole thing in stride. I imagine it had been bad for some time before I was let in on their decision to divorce. Not long after, Karen started making an appearance around the house with her constant Friday evening galas and events. For all I know, they were seeing one another before the divorce, as they became close rather quickly. Before long they were married and within a year, Toby was born. Why Karen bothered having a child I'll never understand. She didn't slow down any, still out every weekend, forever trying to convince daddy to hire a nanny, but he only said, 'Now, what sense does that make when we've got Sarah here. I'm sure she'd love to spend some time with her little brother.' That brings us right up to when you and I met."

"Talk about leaving a few things out," Jareth rose his eyebrow as he finished off the filet. "Did you even have a childhood or were you always the bratty, cynical teenager I fell in love with?"

"Oh," Sarah said with a grimace. "Don't say that. That sounds awful. You falling in love with a teenager, it's creepy."

"Creepy? I fell in love with your soul, Sarah. That which is as old as time, making us not so far apart when it comes to matters of age."

Sarah blushed, "Well, when you say it like that." She folded her napkin and put it beside her plate. Some rice and a bite of the salmon remained on her plate. "I'm stuffed," she announced.

"Then I shall have them hold dessert until we've had a chance to digest a bit." Shoving back his chair, Jareth stood and escorted Sarah to the open floor in the far back of the private dining room. "Such a lovely stranger to have happened across my path," he smiled down at her, his teeth white in the dim light of just the wall sconces. His hands fell to her hips, grabbing her hard and pulling her to him fast, "Allow me to break the ice." Jareth's lips fell hard upon her own, his tongue probing passed her teeth and deep into the hollow between her jaws, forcing her to open her mouth and accept him. For a moment she couldn't breath and then finally a small breath hitched in the back of her throat. She let it escape in a small sigh as she returned his fevered kiss, her small hands wrapping around his biceps as she surrendered to him.

'His kiss was amazing,' she thought as his tongue continued pressing hard against hers, while he alternated gentle tugging at her bottom lip. She had been kissed by men before, but something about his mouth, the shape, the feel was more erotic than any of them had been. Even when she thought he had loved Arulan, she couldn't resist him, no more than she could someone shouting her name on a calm summer day. "Mmmm," she purred into his neck as she caught small pockets of his skin between her lips and slid her tongue over them. Unable to resist she nipped him just below the ear.

"Sarah," he admonished playfully. "I thought you said you were no longer hungry."

"Sorry," she smiled.

Holding her to him in a firm embrace, Jareth ran his arms over the length of her back. "Now then, I believe you were going to tell me about your childhood."

"It's such a boring story."

"Nothing when it comes to you could be boring. On with it then," a wave of his hand and the room filled with music. He swayed her over the hardwood flooring as she spoke.

"I was like any other little girl I guess. Obviously I had a pension for fairytales. I dreamed of a handsome prince who would whisk me away on his white horse, instead I got a king and a black stallion."

"Upgrade I'd say."

"Indubitably," Sarah agreed. "When I was five, mother enrolled me in dance classes, when I was seven, my first voice lesson. Between school and lessons, I didn't have time for many friends, at least the ones that weren't imaginary. I wasn't very good at making friends I guess."

"I find that hard to believe."

"It's true. I wasn't very popular and the things that interest other kids, didn't interest me. I was content with my books though. Do you suppose it should have bothered me more?"

"What?"

"Being such a solitary child."

"I was what you would probably call a solitary child and I turned out fine."

"That's debatable."

"Is it now?" Jareth pulled her tightly to him and dipped her back. His lips fell on her exposed neck, his tongue gliding over her tender skin.

"Maybe we should skip desert," Sarah suggested.

Jareth grinned as he straightened her back to standing, "My, my, my, but you are a brazen one." Sarah looked at him, glaring at his comment. "I mean we have only just begun our courtship and you're practically begging me to..." He sighed, "Well if it's the only way to satiate your mortal desires, I suppose I must."

"Oh, so you want there to be begging. Fine your majesty, then begging there shall be, but it won't be from me." Sarah stepped out of his reach and smoothed down her dress. Crossing the floor she sat gingerly at the table and called for the servant, who came quickly at her summoning. "I believe we'll have desert now."

"You're kidding." Jareth joined her at the table. "I was kidding. Can't a king make a joke once in awhile without everyone getting so serious about it?"

"No, no, no, you bring up a very good point. We are only at the beginning of our courtship and were you and I to disrespect the upstart of this new relationship with something as basic and lurid as sex we would be cheating ourselves of this getting to know one another process we've been working so hard at."

"But we've already made love, Sarah dear. You own my soul."

"I know Jareth, but well that was a moment of heated passion, a temporary lapse in reason that I hope you won't find me entirely tawdry for allowing to happen. Besides, I rather like the idea of us dating, taking things slow. It adds a sort of wholesomeness to our relationship that, well that my parents would approve of."

The king's face hung nearly to the floor. He had agreed that they could take the relationship as slowly as Sarah would like, but he hadn't thought about the idea of going from making love on a moment's notice to a sudden halt in their intimate relations. "Yes, well, I wouldn't want your parents to disapprove of me." His chin settled into his palm just as an elf brought out two helpings of cherries jubilee.

Turning sideways in her chair, Sarah slipped one leg over the other at the knee, being sure to raise the hem of her skirt a couple of inches as she placed the cloth napkin over her lap. "It looks delicious, thank you."

Her tone was entirely too cheerful for the king's liking. "Yes, thank you," he muttered as his fork clanked in the bottom of his bowl.

With the elf gone, Sarah leaned over to Jareth. "Don't just poke at it. Something this sweet should be savored. Here," she gathered a large bite onto his fork and fed it to him, her tongue peaking out from between her lips as she did so. "There now doesn't that just explode in your mouth. One bite and you want to devour the whole thing."

"Indeed," he purred. His eyes lifted at the implied double meaning of her statement.

Another bite filled the mortal's mouth and her lips stained with the deep cherry coloring. Slowly she removed the stain from her lips. "This is absolute sex on a plate!" she moaned.

Jareth slammed his fork down on the table. Refusing to watch her torture him any longer, he chose a spot on the floor on which he transfixed his stare. Giggling, Sarah shifted her legs, causing her napkin to fall. "Allow me," Jareth said bending to pick it up. When his hands moved to place the linen back across her lap, he was unable to stop from noticing the fabric of her dress had been hiked up to the point of exposing nearly all of her thighs. "Enough is enough," he said in a low voice that sent shivers up her spine. One leather glove fell on either of Sarah's knees as Jareth threw her legs apart. "A king does not beg."

Through narrowed eyes, Sarah challenged him. "Not that I mean to dispute you love;" she snapped her thighs back together, although his offer had been tempting, "however, I'm willing to bet I can prove you wrong."

"Do your worst," he egged her on, still poised before her on the floor, his hands loosely around her knees.

"I assure you what I have in mind for you shall be anything but my worst." Sarah joined him on the floor by sliding down out of her chair. His hands fell beneath the her skirt and he squeezed her bottom hard as it seemed to fall perfectly into his palms. "And what have you done so splendidly you feel you've earned the right to touch me?"

"I did arrange for this dinner," he smiled slyly, attempting to capture her lips with his.

"Surely you're not going to rely on that old buying a lady dinner entitles you to something more tactic are you? That's a con older than even you are."

"You're right. Providing a meal and my desire to devour you are wholly separate entities. We should find some place more private to have this conversation."

"More private than a private dining room? Do you know of such a place?" she feigned ignorance, but showed no hint of surprise when they magically arrived in Jareth's bed chamber. "Ah, this is what you had in mind."

"My dear, if I had transported us to where I had in mind you would be clutching my sheets and screaming my name by now."

"Jareth, tell me you're not one of those premature kind of men, are you?" Her finger trailed the underside of his chin as she turned, kicking off her shoes and walking slowly away from him in a straight line. "No," she declared turning to face him. "Nothing that fast will do. I have something else in mind, some thing a bit more time consuming." Sarah's magic summoned the water in the bath. It began to run, hot and steaming, filling the tub. "How do you like your baths, your majesty?"

"Hot, very hot."

"I'm glad to hear you say that. I just don't feel clean unless I've had a hot bath, the kind that makes you sweat so you're never quite sure if you've just gotten clean, or if your still dirty."

"In that situation, the only thing you can do is go over everything twice, thoroughly."

"Exactly what I was thinking."

Sunlight streamed in through the open window, causing both Sarah and the king to grind at their eyes. Sarah looked around. The bed was in total disarray, her torn slip still fed through the opening in the headboard. Her mouth felt dry. Had she really said and done those things last night? Looking down at herself she met Jareth's arm, slung over her naked hip and followed it to his face. His eyes were closed as he attempted to fight the day for just a bit more rest. Her hand fumbled with his glove. Perhaps they were fused on to his flesh? "Ah," he cried out in a short burst when he felt her fiddling with his hands.

Sarah jumped. "I hate them," she said pointedly. "Hands are the most beautiful part of the body and there you are keeping yours under wraps, forcing me to feel the silk or the leather facade when what I want is your flesh fully against mine, every inch. I wonder if I shall ever feel my cheek against your true palm? Feel your nails rake my skin?"

"What if my hands are gnarled and scarred? What if they are no thing of beauty after all, but discolored, hairy stumps? What if they revolt you so badly, you can't stand the thought of my touch at all, not even with the gloves to serve as a barrier?"

"They are not!" she laughed. "Nothing which is a part of you could ever revolt me. Even if there were hooves beneath these things I would welcome your touch like ground welcomes the sun for your touch brings the same heat to my surface, a warmth I bask in."

"Well, I'm glad some thing is pleased to see the sun." Jareth changed the topic as he sat up in bed. "I would have as soon let last night last forever."

Arulan knocked upon the door ready to bring breakfast into them. "Just a minute," Sarah called out and then turned to Jareth. "Do something?" she pleaded, her voice soft.

"Why? This is the precise scenario the woman's been working toward from the second of your arrival."

"Regardless, I don't want her to see us here like this." She tugged on the slip above her head.

The king smirked, "You're right. I shall cast a spell to scald out her eyesཀ"

"Jarethཀ" Sarah swatted at him.

"Alright, alright. You're no fun at all." His hand left her hip and with a graceful gesture, the room was back in complete order, Jareth was dressed in his pajamas and Sarah in a not too revealing night gown. There was no evidence whatsoever of the events which had transpired between them earlier. "Come in Arulan."

Though she tried to suppress it, a smile stretched across the elf's lips when she saw the two of them snuggled in bed with one another. They straightened up. Sarah couldn't help blushing. Setting a tray over the king's lap Arulan suggested, "If it isn't too bold your majesty, might I suggest moving Miss Sarah in here so as she didn't have to go too far to reach her things?"

"You might," he replied, "but that's Sarah's decision to make."

"Oh, well, I don't see," she shuffled her hands as Arulan positioned a tray before her, "why not. I mean it would be more convenient."

"Lovely. Then I'll have your things moved over this afternoon while you two are out."

"Out? We're going out?" Sipping her juice Sarah eyed Jareth over the rim of her glass.

"I hadn't yet gotten to that Arulan."

"Pardon, your grace. I think I'll be excusing myself now." She slunk backwards out the door.

"What have you in mind for me today?" Sarah asked cheerfully, suddenly intrigued by the idea of the king arranging these outings. Jareth went on eating his breakfast as if she hadn't said a word "Oh, so you don't want to tell me. Well perhaps I'll just make plans for this afternoon. I'm sure Hoggle wouldn't mind entertaining me, or Tiberon?"

Jareth's neck could have snapped with the force he used to face her. "Not even in jest, should you speak of Tiberon entertaining you. The whole matter of his behavior with you is deplorable. I may have tried to stop you in the past Sarah, but believe me when I tell you I am forbidding you to see him, here and now. Not just forbidding by the definition to which you've grown accustomed to having manipulated in your case, but forbidding in the strictest sense of the word."

Her hand fell on his cheek. She hadn't meant to upset him. "I'm sorry," she said lost in his blue eyes which had clouded up in anger. "It should make me just as happy to never speak his name again." Straining her neck, Sarah placed her lips over his and left a long, soft kiss, the heat from which lingered long after she'd broken their bond.

Amazed at her acceptance of him being content one second and then angry the next, Jareth watched as she returned to her meal as though he hadn't shouted at her. As if that single kiss resolved everything between them. If only all that was cracked could be fused together with a kiss, they'd have lived happily every after long ago. "I would like to take you out for a picnic this afternoon, that is if you wish to."

"Hmmm, a picnic you say? Well I was going to sit around and contemplate ways to freshen up the bog, but I suppose that can wait."

"You're right. I shouldn't distract you from what you're supposed to be accomplishing while you're here. To the bog with you it is."

"Jareth, now wait a minute," she explained with her eyes drawn up at the corner. " A girl's got to eat."

"And be eaten I'd say." He moved away his tray first and then hers, leaving her with a piece of toast held delicately between her thumb and index finger which he tossed over his shoulder to the floor as he pulled back the duvet and hovered over her. Sarah arched her brow at his devilish grin. A flick of his wrist and her nightgown disappeared.

The king had gone to his office to mull over the never ending flow of paper which passed by his desk. Sarah sat contemplatively on the edge of the bed. She'd been Underground for over a month now and hadn't had even the slightest hint of her cycle. Easing her hands over her stomach, she wondered if it were possible she had become pregnant. She and Jareth certainly hadn't taken any precaution, but surely he realized it would not be in her best interests to have a child, not when she couldn't stay. Tears began to plop off the skirt of her dress. "What are you just sitting there for?" Arulan asked as she entered the room. "Jareth's going to be by soon enough and you're," she stood in front of Sarah, "heavens, you're crying."

"I'm not crying," she lied, wiping her eyes, "I'm just...crying." Sarah fell back against the mattress, staring at the ceiling while she chuckled at what was beginning to feel like madness.

Sitting by her side, the elf took Sarah's trembling hand into hers, "What's the matter, dear?"

"Please don't think me too juvenile, but I've been here well over a month and there are things, normal things for a human female, that should occur regularly."

"Your cycle?"

"Arulan, it's not that I wouldn't be happier about this if I knew I didn't have to leave in ten days, but now is just not the time. I'm smarter than this. By thirty a woman knows better than to allow these things to happen to her."

"Oh my dear. Jareth should have explained all this to you." Arulan shook her head.

Sarah sat up, "No, it's not his fault. I know how my body works and in the back of my mind, I have always known we were taking a chance by being together."

"That's just it, Sarah, you weren't. The Underground is a very different place from your world. We've found ways to eliminate the aberrations that exist Aboveground. Unwanted children for example. Were you to stay here for a decade, you would never experience your cycle. Furthermore, if you were to want a child, you would have to wish to become pregnant. Assuming there was nothing physically wrong with you or your partner, your wish would be granted. Now, do you still have something to worry about?"

Sarah sat up, "No I certainly hadn't wished for that." Arulan smiled as she watched relief wash over the mortal's face. "Thank you for explaining that to me."

"I'm surprised Jareth hadn't done it himself, but never mind all that. Let's get you cleaned up and ready to go." Sarah went into the bath to wash her face while Arulan chose a dress for her from the wardrobe.

"Do you know where the king is planning on taking me?"

"Don't you like surprises?" Arulan asked her.

Sarah thought about it a second, "I've had so many of them recently, it seems as if I never know what is happening. It can be rather overwhelming."

"I suppose you have a point there. Fine, but you didn't hear it from me." Sarah readily bobbed her head in agreement. "Seems Jareth thought you might like visiting Chataigne."

"I would at that," the mortal agreed, now eager to be on her way.

"Yes, I see. I've chosen something for you," Arulan nodded towards what had become Sarah's side of the bed. "If you don't need me for anything, I'll be off to pack your picnic."

"Thank you," she told the elf. Before Arulan could turn to leave she found herself pulled into a warm embrace. She wound her arms around the girl, giving her a gentle squeeze. Choked with emotion, the elf turned and fled the room. Sarah went to the bed and smoothed her hands over the dress that had been chosen for her. It was plum, a slightly darker floral pattern made from raised patches of velvet covered the thinner cotton main layer. Sliding her arms through the three quarter length sleeves, Sarah felt the tight bodice conform to her waist. A gentle tug and the skirt fell tee length against her shins where it loosened just enough so that it could sway as she walked. The neck was open. Sarah felt behind her neck for the flaps which exposed her back. Wrangling the fabric between her thumb and forefingers and struggled to pull them together so she could hook the button. It proved more difficult than she suspected.

A warmth approached her neck. She felt her hair lift and one flap of the fabric cover her exposed shoulder. "Thank you," Sarah said, exchanging the neck of the dress for her hair.

Drawing the ends together and fastening the button, her assistant spoke. "My pleasure," the voice unmistakable. The lips that fell into the heart-shaped opening now created at the back of her dress identified the second set of hands which had come to her rescue.

"Your majesty, you're early." Sarah spun in his arms, smiling up at him. Jareth lowered his lips to hers and kissed her lightly but sincerely.

"Not early enough," he chided, caressing her back with his gloved hands as he readied himself for the thump he knew would be coming.

The back of Sarah's hand met with his chest. Escaping his arms, she stood before the full length mirror in their room and stretched out her hair in a pony tail behind her head. Her fingers rolled over each other quickly and fluidly as she wound her hair in a tight chignon. Jareth grasped her hips and pressed his lips against her neck. "Keep it up and we'll never leave this room."

"OK, but when everyone arrives to start moving your furniture, they're going to get a lot more than they bargained for." The Goblin King proceeded with his efforts to seduce his mortal. Sarah's eyes caught his in the mirror, casting a look upon him that forced him to pull back. "Oh, alright, we'll go, but remember this, you had your chance."

Smiling she said with confidence, "I'm sure I'll have my chance again."

As they neared the stables, Sarah could hear Chataigne whinny. "He's missed you," Gribbin said to Sarah. When they reached the fence around the stables he added, "And he wasn't the only one." With a bow to the mortal and another to the king, he let them inside the gate and excused himself.

"We have half a dozen horses here," Jareth explained. "Seven if you count the Shagya, but she is a very special creature. Of course you remember Chataigne and Bagheera."

"And that one," Sarah pointed to the Cheval, "Shadowmere, the horse I was supposed to ride when we went to see the Triumvirate."

"Indeed. There is also that bay colored mustang, that so far no one has been able to break and so he has no name. There, the cinnamon colored gelding, that is Turgomon's pride, a female he calls Cymeron. Running behind her with the patches of chocolate, black and white, is Dalkeil's Shindeagon. The two of them are what Gribbin calls the hens of the pen. They are never found far from one another and they have an almost superior air over the others." Sarah giggled at the idea of such human characteristics in animals, but they did trot in stride around the perimeter of the yard shaking their manes and snorting as though they were engaged in some secret conversation no one or nothing else was meant to hear or understand. A pure white rump stood out in a far corner of the pen. None of the other horses seemed to near the creature there, even the hens cut that corner off as they continued their monotonous circles. Her ankles bore a tuft of hair, long like her mane, curled like her tail. Even perfectly still she gave off an amazing delicacy. "You see now why I don't include her with the others don't you?"

"She's more than just a different species, she's like a whole other class of animal."

"That is the Lady Amalthea. She's got a certain animosity towards most of us here although we've an understanding between the two of us, she and I."

As if she had heard them talking about her, the Lady Amalthea turned a bit, exposing more of her side to them, shaking her head. She was pure majesty as she moved. "Jareth, she's a...a...amazing," Sarah finally managed.

"More so than you know. There was a time, a hateful time, when she was the last of her kind. The others, though not dead, had all been held captive by a..." Jareth fell silent.

"A human?" His head shook. "What I've learned about my kind prevents me from being surprised by the idea that one of us would be responsible for treating such a magnificent beast with such utter disrespect."

The Shagya turned and trotted towards her as Jareth continued, "Her breed are in general said to be tough, elegant, hardy creatures with great endurance and an inborn friendliness towards humans. That aspect of their personality alone, most likely made it easy for them to be captured." The expression on Sarah's face changed dramatically. "What is it love?"

Blinking, Sarah tried to explain away what she saw as a trick of the light, some misinterpretation of the sun's rays or her own eyes so used to magic and the mythicals which surrounded her they willed her to see the Lady Amalthea as something more. "Look at me," a voice spoke. Sarah knitted her eyebrows up while the words seemed to continue from inside her head. It was gentle and smooth, entirely feminine. "Look at me and tell me what you see."

"You're a unicorn," Sarah spoke in broken syllables as the regal white beast walked proudly up to her. The other horses, even the two ridden by Turgomon and Dalkeil, stopped to let her pass without even the slightest expression of inconvenience. Her horn sparkled as she walked, reflecting the sun left and right as she tilted her head. The Lady whinnied. "Jareth, why do you have a unicorn here?"

"You see her?" It amazed him that her soul was so pure. "You see her as she is, truly is."

"How can you miss her? She is the thing that fairytales are made of. She moves like mercury. She shines like silver. She is surreal, ethereal, divine." Just a few inches away, the unicorn's black eyes looked Sarah over. Black eyes, unlike Tiberon's whose were empty and void, Amalthea's spoke volumes.

"It is told that while the Lady attempted to save the others like her, she was made into a human woman. While inside her human body she fell in love with a mortal man. When she was made unicorn again, she had learned to regret. While the unicorns ran free, making their homes in the northwestern sector, the Lady no longer felt as if she belonged with her own kind. She came to me, told me her story and asked me to let her live among this collection of misfit creatures." Jareth's hand reached out to stroke the unicorn's mane. "Magic has caused this lovely beast much pain. She trusts no one here, but me and even that bond has taken time to form."

"I'm sorry," Sarah said, "sorry that you needed to know the pain of regret."

"Life is a balance," the unicorn told her. "I did feel the pain of regret and it is an ache I will never forget, but I have also felt the wonder of true love and that is a joy worth any ache."

The mortal's eyes filled with the tears the beast could not shed. Unconsciously, she reached out for Amalthea's cheek. To Jareth's shock, instead of running away the animal nuzzled into the girl's touch as they exchanged a compassion that transcended their species and spoke to what joined them as woman. Then as quickly as she had come to join them, the Lady Amalthea turned and trotted off, back to her corner of the yard, whinnying as she went. Sarah watched her run, raw power making the muscles in her legs tremble as her lean body cut through the air like a streamlined craft. "The poor woman," Sarah mumbled as she wiped away her tears.

"She's no longer a woman, Sarah. Despite what her heart tells her, she is a unicorn again."

"She will always be some part of what magic once made her. I can't tell you how or why I know that Jareth, but looking into her eyes I sensed it."

"Come walk with me. I was wrong to expose you to the Lady Amalthea, it has been too overwhelming an experience for you." Jareth held her left hand in his while his right arm wrapped around her waist. He felt her straighten at his touch.

"No Jareth, in fact meeting that beautiful creature has been a comfort I can't seem to put into words."

In silence they left the fence and began to climb the hill behind the stable. Sarah thought they might end up walking through the clouds for as high up as they traveled. But despite their attempt to reach the horizon, it continued to out run them. At the top, she looked around. She could see the stables, the horses tiny specks roaming around the fenced off area. A small lake hidden off to the left surrounded by a thicket of trees. While she took in the view, Jareth used his magic, to lay a blanket across the ground and then with a delicate turn of his wrist summoned the basket Arulan had packed with various fruits and cheeses, bread and wine. When they'd eaten there fill, Jareth lay back against the ground and encouraged Sarah to lean back against him. It didn't take much convincing for her to settle into his embrace.

They talked about silly things like lucky numbers and favorite foods. They discussed their childhood some more, and their first meeting. When lighthearted topics became exhausted, they shared a comfortable silence content with just being close to one another. As the bright light of afternoon began to dim with the orangish shade of evening, Sarah propped up on one elbow and stared into his eyes. 'Blue,' she thought. 'His favorite color.' It was obvious, the color of his eyes. But they weren't sky blue, not ocean blue, not midnight blue. They were this unbelievable anonymous shade of blue she couldn't name, but she could picture them. They were Jareth blue, Goblin King blue. That's what she would call it, just so she could name the color she couldn't describe. "What does it feel like to have my soul?"

"I don't have your soul," Jareth answered without thinking.

"But Hoggle said that fey exchanged souls when they kissed."

He had hoped it wouldn't have come to this before she had to leave, but she was an inquisitive woman, one who deserved the truth. "It's true Sarah. Fey who are in love do exchange souls when they kiss, but Sarah love, you are not fey."

Her nose and lips wrinkled with confusion, "But I have your soul and I want you to have mine. There's got to be some other way." Her words came quickly in an effort for her to express her need. "I'll wish it to you if that's what I have to do."

Jareth held her close. "Sarah, I'm flattered you would make such an offer," his hands stroked her back. "Please don't take this offensively, but you can't wish your soul to me, it isn't allowed."

"Then tell me what is allowed. Tell me what I can do. Tell me what happens when they send me home."

"Sarah, we don't need to discuss this now."

"I want to Jareth. I need to know what happens when they send me home."

The king closed his eyes and sighed, then lay back and held her to him. "When you return home, you will take my soul with you and I will be unable to love anyone but you for the rest of my life." Sarah moved to interject, but Jareth stopped her. "It doesn't matter Sarah, I wouldn't have been able to love anyone else even with every stitch of my soul still inside me." He left out the knowledge that he would die in time. It was pain she didn't need, pain he didn't think she could tolerate.

"And me? What will happen to me?"

"In time, my soul will fade. You remember me explaining about things from my world existing in yours and how it's no longer possible?" She shook her head. "When my soul has completely faded, I will be a memory to you. Well that's not true. You won't remember me. In fact you'll forget everything about me and the Underground."

Lips trembling, Sarah pushed away from the king, "That's not possible. I could never forget you," she cried. He said nothing and refused to meet her stare. She was angry with him. Convinced he was lying. "How could I forget you when every cloud I see takes your shape? Every word you say, turns to song in my ear. I think about you every moment of the day. It would be asking me to stop, to stop my heart from beating. Asking me to forget to breath. You expect me to just go home, go back to whatever pathetic life I had without you and pretend you weren't real? When they ask me where I've been, what would you have me say?"

"It's not what I want Sarah, it's what rules of my world say will be."

"What will be? Rules? When you fought your way back through the Labyrinth, when you came Aboveground for me, were you following the rules? Was our seeing each other again what they say would be?" Jareth didn't answer. "I don't believe in what your world claims will be. You, you made me believe in fairytales again and now you want to take it away." Sarah stood, screaming down at him as if she could change the truth by cursing it away. "You told me not to say I loved you unless I could say it truly and then you tell me I have to forget when I leave. What's sense the sense in loving today, what I won't even know tomorrow?" She turned away from him, holding herself as her body shook with sobs. "I don't even know you now!" Like she had watched the horses run, her legs imitated their strength as she let momentum carry her to the bottom of the hill. Jareth didn't follow. He didn't pop back into the castle where he knew she was headed. He only lay back against the hill once more and watched the clouds passing by him. Amalthea was not the only immortal thing who had learned to regret he realized as the tears from his eyes rolled over his temple and soaked his hair.

Inside the castle, Sarah took the stairs two at time, ignoring anyone who tried to talk to her. Throwing open the door to her old room, she quickly remembered it had been consolidated with Jareth's while they were away. When she entered their room, she flung herself onto the bed. "Why!" she cried out to no one. "Why when I was just beginning to think I could love him like he needed me to, why then do I push to learn the truth? The truth has never done anything, but hurt me. And the truth is, I love him. I love him with everything that I am. I love him for everything that he is for now I finally see all that he really is." Sarah cried until her eyes went dry. Jareth hadn't returned. None of the servants, not even Arulan dared to disturb her.

When night blackened the window, Sarah lit the fireplace and wished for her guitar. Crossed legged on the bed, her Gibson fell into her lap. Her fingers tripped over the strings, the light vibrations speaking to her. Out the window she looked at the stars. There was a whole universe she didn't understand, there was magic and mystery abound for her to contemplate, but all her mind could conjure was her king and all she had come to learn of him since his confession to her. Sleep to her had always been a luxury, one she enjoyed, but tonight it was a necessity, one she accepted.