CHAPTER FORTY ONE - THE MOMENT THEY'D ALL BEEN WAITING FOR
Arriving home, Jareth could barely contain his joy. Arulan was the first he saw, his telltale grin saying more than his words ever could. "My, my, my, look at you. Don't you look like a wildcat let loose in an aviary."
"Is it all so obvious?" he asked.
"Why shouldn't it be? What you did today will be a legend in the Underground for centuries to come," the elf beamed proudly.
"I wouldn't care if it were all to be forgotten tomorrow," Jareth said truthfully, "so long as it got me the freedom to marry Sarah."
"Rest assured it has gotten you both. I'm very proud of you," she flung her arms about his neck, kissing his cheek quickly. Into his ear, Arulan whispered. "She's been in her chambers all day, waiting for you to return, refusing to allow any of us to pay visit."
"Is something wrong?"
"I'm sure she feels the same partiality you do when the two of you are separated. Go to her and her world will be righted once again. I'll have something sent up to tide you both until dinner."
"Thank you Arulan."
Jareth took the stairs in threes, his anxiety causing him to forget his ability to transport and make ridiculous demands of his impractical footwear.
When he threw open their chamber's door, Jareth found Sarah crying on the bed, a crystal very near her head. "What is it Sarah?" he cried.
Lifting her head, she admitted, "Everything you said..."
His hand enveloped her tear stained cheeks as he realized she had watched the trial in a crystal. "Everything I said was nothing more than the truth."
"Your truth is more beautiful than any truth my old world could ever show."
"The harsh truths of your world will forever be a memory to you now love, our wedding is set for this week's end," Jareth reminded her.
"I know," she said, the pink fading from her eyes and reappearing merrily on her cheeks. "I can scarcely believe it, I'm so excited."
"Imagine it Sarah, imagine finally we will belong to one another, no one to speak against it, nothing to keep us apart. To have you for my wife, it is my richest dream." The kiss which followed was a rough one, his passion so strong it would have easily devoured her if she hadn't matched his fervor in return. In seconds their mad longings had them pawing at one another, clinging steadfast as if their contact was the only thing sustaining their lives. "I love you," he reminded her in the brief second he could bear to keep his lips from hers.
Before she could reply in kind Arulan was knocking at the door, no doubt come to bring them something to eat, sending them to neutral corners. Sarah's hand waved over her face sending off the perspiration on her brow and the crimson in her cheeks as Jareth granted Arulan access to their room. "Well," Arulan said as she looked from one to the other, "when is the wedding?"
Giggling, Sarah looked away shyly, content to let Jareth answer on their behalves. "There will be an announcement made at dinner."
"Oh, come on, you can tell me."
"An announcement will be made at dinner."
"But I'm..."
"Thank you for the tray Arulan, you do take the finest care with us."
"Jareth, surely..."
"We look forward to seeing you at dinner tonight." The elf looked at him with sad eyes. "Surely you understand we've much to discuss before we're prepared to share our happy news with anyone else."
"Of course," she curtsied.
As the door closed behind her, Sarah could no longer hold back a strong giggle. "Jareth, you're terrible!"
"Forgive me if I want our happiness only to our selves for a few short hours, if I want the news to come from us both rather than as a singular directive."
"Forgiven," Sarah declared.
For hours they lie there, no words to exchange between them, only the shared sensation of overwhelming relief. In five days they would be married, all they had fought for would at last be granted them and eternity would be theirs to wile away at their leisure. Then it sunk in, they were to be wed in five days and nothing had been stitched, baked, painted, planned, or prepared. In fact, no one had even been notified. As if the realization hit them in a synchronized blast, they both sat bolt upright, looked at one another and spouted the first things to come to mind.
"I've got to get the seamstress to make my dress."
"Where will put everyone?"
"Who should we invite?"
"Cook will need a count."
In seconds the horror in their eyes was replaced by wild laughter at their own idiocy. "Sarah," the king spoke softly as he stroked her hair, "if it is only you and I and the daisies I shall be pleased. We can dine on meed and clothing shall be optional."
"Perfect as that sounds," Sarah agreed as she nestled against Jareth, "we will only do this once in all our lives. I'm not saying it has to be extravagant, but let's make what we want of it."
"My thoughts precisely. Let's decide who we want to invite and then after we announce the wedding at dinner I can talk to cook and you can go see about having your dress begun."
"Jareth, how are we going to decide? I mean we've gone around these last how many months preaching better equality to the masses, stressing community over class and then we hand pick the guests to our wedding? What would that say about us?"
"So you want to invite the entire realm," the king chuckled but Sarah's look of seriousness did not fade. "You really want to invite the entire realm?"
"Well the ones who want to come," she shrugged. "Not everyone's going to be free on such short notice."
"Sure, most of them will probably have important dates to keep with foreign dignitaries. Sarah! We can't invite the whole realm. Where will we put them? What will we feed them?" His arms folded around her, "Trust me love, it's perfectly acceptable to be selective when it comes to this, it's expected." Knowing she'd never agree to the same attendants from their planned elopement, Jareth began whittling back number in his head until finally he suggested, "How about this? The Triumvirate, the Representatives, the castle's court and all of the Goblin City. That's generous."
"Ludo and Didymus should be there too. Can we invite the inhabitants of the Labyrinth?"
"Do you want the fire gang at our wedding?"
"No."
Jareth sighed with relief. "Fine then. The Triumvirate, the Representatives, the castle's court, all of the Goblin City and the creatures in my employee. That will include the lummox and the fox."
"What about Winston and Jena?"
"Are you serious? A couple of worms!"
"They've been very kind to me," Sarah pleaded.
"Fine, I shall employ him for some trivial purpose before we announce the ceremony tomorrow. Is there anyone else?"
Sarah thought hard about everyone she had met both before and since her return. "Twink and the bard. I wouldn't feel right not having them there."
"Don't worry love, I have special plans for the two of them. Alright then can we agree, The Triumvirate, the Representatives, the castle's court, all of the Goblin City and the creatures in my employee which will soon include Winston?"
"Agreed," she smiled up at him, surprisingly content with the reduced guest list. Just then the dinner bells sounded and albeit Pavlovian, the couple's mouths began to water. A wave of their hands in unison and they were dressed and ready to join the rest of the house in the dinning hall.
Intentionally Jareth cut his food into miniature pieces, so meticulously the others sat staring, some on their third or fourth flagon of mead. "For mercy's sake your majesty, please make the announcement," Arulan pleaded as she leaned over to the king.
Smiling widely, allowing his jagged teeth to reflect the candlelight, Jareth asked, "And what announcement might that be?"
"You know full well what I'm speaking of!"
"Ah, so I do," he admitted, ringing the bell just in front of his place setting. As the staff filed in, the Goblin King made eye contact momentarily with each of them and then calmly announced, "I would like a second helping."
Tiny elvish hands pummeled him. "Blast you! Since you were a child I've fallen for your games. Now tell them about the wedding this instant or with my own hands I'll...oh you infuriate me to the point of not knowing what I would do!"
"Wedding?" one of the staff asked.
"I see another cat has been left loose to wander my kingdom," Jareth concluded as he eyed Arulan. "Allow me to clarify that which my servant has prefaced for me. Ladies and gentlemen, it pleases me beyond words to announce formally that Sarah and I will be wed five days from today at three in the afternoon. You are all invited to be our guests, but first I beg assistance from each of you in readying for the major event."
A small voice from the wait staff piped up, "Does this mean you don't want a second helping?"
"No, no thank you, but more mead, all around!"
Cheers erupted in the tiny room from all but Arulan who let loose the tears she'd been waiting to cry.
For the next few days, it was anything but business as usual around the castle. Drema had taken over running the schools so Sarah was free for fittings and floral appointments and Deverell ran the Underground while Jareth met with the chefs and musicians. Each night the anxious couple met in bed, sometimes having not seen one another since waking that day. Jareth would wrap his bride up in his arms and shower her with his attentions. Sarah responded to his touch, curling into his side. Both could hardly find the desire to sleep, their anticipation filling them with too much energy to rest, but at the same time, if they could close their eyes and part with this conscious world for just a few hours it would speed the arrival of their nuptials. Sarah used her magic to call the wind, using its easy rhythm to lull them to sleep. Content in one another's warm embrace they watched the curtains give the imperceptible guest shape, bringing with it the sweet peace of slumber.
Limited as their time together was, they managed to remain positive. After all, they were working toward their wedding. The last full day before the wedding, the finishing touches were put into place. Last minute decisions were made over decorations and seating assignments and in keeping with the melding of the traditions, the Cleric arrived shortly before dinner to walk everyone through the ceremony which would take place the following day. Naturally he was invited to stay for dinner, but it was at the end of the meal that attempting to honor both traditions took an unbearable turn.
Goodbyes said to the Cleric, he was seen out and with all of the festivities for the wedding in play, the king planned to excuse himself and his bride to be for an early evening. "About that your majesty," Deverell said looping his arm through Jareth's and walking him off in a direction which did not lead to his chamber.
Simultaneously Arulan escorted Sarah away, using the bustle as a cover for her actions. "Where are you taking me?"
"To your room, milady. You need plenty of rest for tomorrow."
"Where's Deverell taking Jareth?"
Arulan stumbled for words, "Yes, well, his majesty will be sleeping in one of the guest rooms this evening." Shuffling Sarah up the stairs she added, "Don't worry, he'll be fine. Now come along."
"Arulan, why is Jareth staying in a separate room?"
"Is that not your tradition, milady? Do the bride and groom not spend the night before their wedding apart from one another?"
"Not this again," Sarah groaned before conceding. "Yes Arulan, that is the custom."
Lagging behind the elf by four or so feet, Sarah obediently followed her to the room which held so little interest for her now without Jareth to be found within it. As they reached the door, Arulan reached for the knob, "Your room milady," she said with grand gesture as she bowed low and flung open the door.
As she stepped inside, Sarah gasped. The entire room was changed, just for this night, just fo her. Everything was draped in white lace. The bed made with white linens, all around the room huge vases filled with white roses. White candles giving off warm light all around the room. Inhaling deeply, Sarah was instantly put at ease by the mix of rose musk and lily of the valley scented candles. "It's gorgeous!" she exclaimed. "Thank you." Her arms folded around the elf and she pulled her tight.
"I'm glad you like it miss," Arulan said as she allowed her face to fall against Sarah's rich black hair. "Anything else you need, don't hesitate to ask, at any hour of the day or night. After tomorrow I'll be your servant too, you should get used to calling on me."
"You have always been more than a servant to me Arulan, and to Jareth. After tomorrow, you shall be even less a servant I'm sure." The elf smiled when she felt Sarah's lips press against her cheeks and Sarah did the best to not fuss over the salty wetness she found there.
"Are you mad?" Jareth asked when Deverell showed him the spare room they had chosen for him. "This is a guest room...that bed is barely larger than Arulan!"
"Sorry your majesty, but 'tis bad luck to see the bride before the wedding, so say the mortals."
Jareth groaned as he sat on the edge of the bed, "So they say alright," great disappointment evident on his face. As he fell back against the mattress, the distinct difference in length between became fabulously apparent, for while his knees folded over the lower most end of the mattress, there was little more than a pillow's width above his head. "Idiotic mortal customs!" he groused.
"We all thought you would be agreeable to this," Deverell chided as he began to close the door behind him, "And you should know we've already anticipated your trying to sneak out to see Sarah and I feel it only fair to warn you that the halls have been trapped."
"Of course," the king sighed as he folded himself up into the bed, "I wouldn't have it any other way." He lie there waging war against sleep, practically refusing it, for if he were to be honest, he would have admitted that sleep was more likely and certainly more able to come to him when Sarah was not in his arms. Her presence filled his mind with thoughts of waking activities. With no such distractions he would have easily been able to rest, but he simply refused.
Waving his hand Jareth separated the curtain above his head. The night sky was midnight blue filled with silver specks of light. He wondered if sleep had as strongly appealed to her as it did to him. As if it had a voice of its own the sky seemed to call to the king until what should have been obvious from the beginning became too clear to avoid. Quietly as he could, his sensitive ears alert for bells or whistles, Jareth slid open the window pain. Relaxing his lithe body he allowed it to fall forward from the sill. A second before he hit the ground, his royal garb was exchanged for a coat of fine winter white barn owl feathers and in the silver light of the moon his feather's earth toned markings glowed bronze. Even all these centuries later the feeling of flying still thrilled Jareth and before landing gingerly on the sill of their bed chamber window, he found it hard to resist taking a long circle around the back grounds of the castle, stretching his wings wide and allowing the breeze to take him where it liked. When he peered through the window, he immediately noticed the curtains parted precisely as he had done in his own room. The window was open which, while making the landing much easier, was no real surprise. He was fully aware of how much she loved to sleep with the windows open.
Wide yellow eyes peeked in over the headboard to find Jareth's bride fast asleep in a cloud of white linens, surrounded by a snowy veil which draped the entire bed. All but the candles in the chandelier had gone out, providing just enough light to make Sarah's alabaster skin distinguishable from the satin sheets, while providing enough shadow to hide his presence and to blend her raven hair into the darkness. Sleep had indeed claimed her, leaving behind a slight smile on her delicate lips. Secretly he hoped she was dreaming of their wedding. For a few more moments he watched on from the window until his having seen her looking so peaceful made him ready to accept the sleep which had been so generously offered earlier.
Once more he fell from the sill on which he had been perched, this time with his wings already in tow, and glided through the sky one more time, before returning to his room, returning to his fey shape and gladly allowing sleep to overtake him.
Sweeping in gently through the window and shaking Sarah awake with a searing touch, the sun roused her from her dreams. Shining like platinum, the yards of white surrounding her seemed to ingest the golden rays. For a minute she forgot where she was. 'I'm dead,' she thought. 'I've died and gone to heaven.' It was Arulan bursting through the door with tray in hand that reminded her she was very much alive.
"Time for your last breakfast as a single woman," the elf sang, forcing Sarah to admit that she was more nervous about today than she may have originally thought.
"I don't think I want to eat anything," Sarah grumbled.
"Don't be silly. You've got to have something in your stomach. You don't want to get faint in the middle of the ceremony do you?"
The idea of that had never occurred to Sarah. She'd thought at great length about tripping in the aisle or forgetting the words, not being able to get the ring on, her make up running when she started to cry, getting tangled in the ribbons that hung from her flowers when she tried to pass them away, but passing out never occurred to her. Looking at the tray she debated, queasy stomach, light head, queasy stomach, light head. In the end, she nibbled at the plain toast and drank her juice figuring that it was better to make a small attempt to satisfy each ailment than to overlook one in its entirety.
"Now then," Arulan said as she sat on the edge of the bed opening a small folder, "the seamstress will be by in an hour to fit your dress for any last minute touch ups, then we've got to get you squeaky clean and done just so before you're dressed. His majesty has planned for you to arrive in a carriage at the end of the aisle once all the guests are seated, so we should have you boarded by quarter to and then the rest is up to you my dear." Lovingly, she smiled at Sarah which immediately made her eyes begin to water. "What is it milady? Is something on the schedule not to your liking?"
"No, Arulan, no, everything on the schedule is fine. I suppose that in all this rush to prepare for our wedding little things escaped me and only now, when things are becoming real have they occurred to me."
"Whatever they are milady, we still have time, albeit not much, but some, to weave your every heart's desire. Tell me what I can do for you?"
Flowing freely the tears stained Sarah's cheeks. "I'm afraid no one can give me what my heart desires most, for no one can change my mother and make her the kind of woman who would have sat with me on my wedding day, tucking flowers into my curls and passing down some family heirloom for me to carry. No one can bring me my father to walk me down the aisle, patiently stroking my hand and apologizing for whatever idiotic thing my step mother has just said and Toby, this all started because of him and he's not even here."
Embracing the woman tenderly Arulan smoothed her hair. "Hush, love, hush," she repeated rocking her gently in her arms. "I know how much you miss them, how much you wish they were here, but you realize things cannot be exactly as you wish." Sarah looked up at her nodding wearily and dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief she'd summoned. "However, there is a tradition in your world of bringing a number of things with you to the alter, correct?" Eyeing her with much confusion, Sarah had no reply. "Something old, new, borrowed and blue?"
"I've taken care of that," Sarah said opening her bedside table.
"Never mind what you've collected Sarah dear, I have a collection for you which I'm sure you'll prefer to anything you've gathered here." Intrigued, she watched Arulan carefully as the elf flitted about the room. "Your dress is new," she reminded. Lying out a long satin ribbon on the bed she announced, "I had the seamstress make this from an extra piece of my dress fabric." It matched exactly the rich navy they had selected to compliment Arulan's blonde hair. From a dresser drawer she pulled a small box, "These," she told the girl as she opened it for her to see.
Sarah didn't let her finish, "Those were my mother's," she supplied when she saw the thin silver chain and diamond pendant, hung between two posted diamond solitaires.
"Borrowed," Arulan shrugged, but Sarah seemed unphased by the admission. "And this," she whispered in phantom secrecy handing over what had once been a white four inch square box, now yellowed by age, with rounded corners from handling. Inside she found a lace trimmed linen hankie embroidered with:
Nick and Francis Williams
Today, tomorrow and forever
June 21, 1934
Sarah held the swatch of fabric to her cheek, it smelled of storage, but it smelled familiar to her too and suddenly home was all around her. Tears of sadness were replaced by tears of joy and the sluggish start to her day became an eagerness to perform all the tasks associated with readying for the wedding.
The king was a separate story entirely. When Deverell finally arrived to see if he had stirred, the king's assistant found his majesty fully dressed in his wedding clothes and impatiently pacing the floor. "I mean it's ridiculous to schedule something like this for the afternoon. What is one supposed to do with the bulk of their day sitting around waiting for the sun to fall half way down the western horizon."
"Most grooms don't rise with the rooster on the day of their wedding, your majesty."
Turning on his heels he faced Deverell with poignant seriousness, "Most grooms have not waited nearly sixteen years for their brides. Most grooms have not nearly lost their brides on three separate occasions and on a permanent basis."
"So you're saying you have extenuating circumstances," Deverell chided. "Come Jareth, sit with me, have some tea, destroy me a few times at chess and you'll find it's time to walk you down the aisle before you know it."
"Have you surveyed the grounds to be sure everything's perfect?"
"No," he admitted. "I came straight here."
"Can I rely on you for nothing!" the king shouted.
Wisely Deverell chose not to take the king's outburst to heart. "I could only assume, your majesty that my observations wouldn't satisfy what you could see with your own eyes."
"Indeed," Jareth proclaimed as he started for the door.
Grabbing his shoulder, Deverell reminded him, "Perhaps you'd rather not inspect the grounds in your formal wear." Jareth eyed him critically and waved his hand for a more casual appearance.
Sarah stood in front of the mirror, as Arulan scaled the footstool at her side and placed upon her crown of curls a headpiece, four inches wide at the center and tapering down behind her ears. The base was white satin, the same material as her under slip, trimmed with silver set diamond chips. From the back of the headpiece, beginning at the midpoint of its widest section, a tulle veil cascaded out over her black hair, extending another foot or two below the ends of her locks, just covering her rump, trimmed in the same satin that coated the crown. "Face me," Arulan instructed. Once she was able to look away from Sarah's sparkling green eyes, the elf pulled just a small piece of hair to peek out from beneath the crown and frame the woman's face elegantly. Sniffling, she ran off to get the overlay. It was a heavy, but magnificent piece, not the same snowy white as the slip had been, but just the slightest hint of sliver, a wave woven into the fabric so that she looked like a rolling stream when she moved under the light. The sleeves hung to the middle of her full skirt, fluffed with several layers of crinoline tucked beneath her slip. Split to her elbow, banded there by white cord, the back portion was the same fabric as the petticoat, the front of the sleeve was about a foot and a half shorter and made of lace. Arulan began working at the silver cord which laced up the front of the dress and gave shape to her waist and bosom. Around her neck she fastened the diamond necklace and then crawled beneath her skirt to help her into the silver slippers she would walk toward Jareth in.
Grabbing her by the shoulders, Arulan reminded her for the thirtieth time how lovely she looked, how perfect everything would be and how proud she was to stand in as her witness before disappearing into the bath to ready herself for the event. Sarah turned left and right a time or two trying to see herself from as many angles as possible. It was a spectacular gown and though she'd disputed the crown, when she saw it all together, it fit perfectly.
So entranced by what was scheduled to take place in just thirty minutes, Sarah barely noticed the whirling dervish in the center of the sitting room. It was tinged red, trimmed in black and as the figure began to solidify you could make out the details of deep burgundy gown patterned with a charcoal grey box iron cross pattern. Gold cording highlighting the narrow waist and the elbows, where a matching velvet patch ran from two inches above to two inches below the joint leading down to narrow sleeves which only began to flare at mid-forearm and then plunged low for a dramatic flounce. The bodice had a velvet panel between the breasts. Every open edge of the dress was trimmed in opaque black lace.
Sarah blinked when she saw the second set of eyes in the mirror, the long dark curls framing the warm beige face she would never in her life forget. Turning quickly on one foot she gawked, "Leanan Sidhe."
"Do forgive the intrusion," she bowed. "If I had known I would be coming, I surely would have sent word ahead."
"Nonsense," Sarah said. "Yours is always a welcomed presence."
The Sidhe rose, stepping cautiously toward the woman her son had planned to marry. Reaching up her tiny hand, she ran the back of her long fingers down the side of Sarah's face. "Such a beautiful peach he picked."
Gasping at the feel of her touch, Sarah stepped back. "I can feel you," she exclaimed. "How...how is that possible?"
Here the Sidhe laughed some, for it was all so strange to her as well. "The Supreme One has given me this day to make up to my son for a lifetime of pain and neglect. For today I will seem fully fey, tangible in every way, but only for today and without the benefit of magic of course."
Warily she reached for the woman's hair feeling its silky texture before reaching for the dress, soft and velvety. "Does Jareth know?"
The Sidhe shook her head, "I thought we would surprise him," she smiled. "I wanted to ask first if I had your permission to attend, for I have not been my most kind to you and for that I am sorry. You truly are a rare find, capable of loving my son as I was never able. I wish you only the best and I assure you I will cause no problem at your ceremony for it was made abundantly clear to me that should I step out of line for even an instant my privileges would be revoked." Tears filled her eyes, "I only wish to dance once with my son, to hold him and be held by him on this, his happiest of days and I shall rest forever more in peace. I vow it to you."
Pulling the pain soaked Sidhe into her arms, Sarah's tears rained into her hair and even Jareth's mother could not hold back the drops which fell from her eyes. "Of course," Sarah told her earnestly, "of course you may attend and I pray you'll stay as long as you are able."
Leanan Sidhe ran her hands along the fabric of the wedding dress which covered Sarah's frame. The touch of the fabric, the rise and fall of the girl's rib, the course grate of the veil all magic to her, all the sweet things of life, but it was the pounding heart that beat against the phantom's empty chest which brought her the most comfort, for it had been many years since she were able to feel the comfort of love.
"One last thing," she told the bride to be. "These belonged to Ian and me," holding out two silver bands engraved with a Celtic pattern. "I'd like them to be yours and Jareth's now."
Sarah took the bands, "They're lovely," she whispered. "We'd be proud to wear them, but Deverell already has the rings and I'm sure he and Jareth are together."
"A little magic ought to do the trick," the Sidhe winked.
Winking back, Sarah cast a spell. Deverell felt the heat of the magic in his interior breast pocket, but when he glanced in to find two shining circles he never bothered to check the patterns and shrugged off the whole disruption.
Arulan emerged from the bath draped in a simple navy satin gown, corded at the waist and left loose so that it did not accentuate her curves, the sleeves dipped nearly to the hem, the shoulders and the neck line trimmed in a simple cream fabric bearing a matching navy embroidery to add a touch of elegance to the gown. Immediately she fell to one knee in a gasp, "Queen mum," she cried.
The Sidhe ran to her quickly, lifting her from her humble position and looking at her with total seriousness. "Arulan, all these years my son has been left to your care," the elf waited nervously to hear more, "you have done a fine job with him and I am eternally in your debt." Her crimson lips pressed against the pale cheek of Jareth's nurse maid."
"'Twas an honor to raise the king mum, but if I may ask, how is it you're here? I thought you were nothing more than ash and spirit, pardon my saying."
"I am, as you say, nothing more than ash and spirit, but the Supreme One, with his often undeserved generosity, has given me this day to share with my son all the love I kept from him during my life and it pleases me immensely to see that I have so many others to share the day with who, no offense intended, I had not thought of when I dreamt of sharing my son's wedding day."
Tears in her eyes, Arulan grabbed the Sidhe for one more embrace, "Bless the Supreme One mum, having you here will make today all the more special."
"I always thought well of you," she whispered into the golden hairs pressed against her cheek.
"Aye mum, and I of you."
"Otherwise," Leanan Sidhe continued, "I would not have left you the only thing I have ever unselfishly loved." Removing herself from the embrace, the Sidhe stiffened her back. "Enough, I have come to be reminded of all that is lovely here, not to relive heartaches of the past. Let us board the carriage for the grounds, let us celebrate the future."
The Sidhe helped Sarah into the carriage first, as Arulan managed her train and balanced her bouquet. "Here, watch where yer sittin'!" a gruff voice called.
"Hoggle!" Sarah called out. "What are you doing in the carriage?"
"'Parently, you can't walk twenty five feet on yer own. I'm sup'posta help ya." He was nonchalant about it, but Sarah knew it was only to keep himself composed.
"You mean you're going to walk me down the aisle? You're going to give me away?" Sarah's eyes were filled with tears again.
Arulan popped into the coach beside her in time to hear Hoggle's reply. "I'll walk you down that aisle," he promised, "but I ain't never gonna give you away." The sincerity in his words made her chest feel hollow and she watched on in awe as Sarah scooped him into her arms.
Hoggle sat back as the Sidhe entered the coach, pardoning himself, still flustered by his exchange with the bride to be. When his wide eyes cleared enough to properly view the guest, he went stark white and drew a breath. "Do you all see her? Do you? I can't be seein' what I think I'm seein'." He shut his eyes tight. "It ain't the queen," he chanted.
The Sidhe snatched him up in her long fingers, blood red nails more pronounced against his paled flesh, "Why Higgle, don't tell me you're frightened of me?"
"I am, I am, I am," he sputtered, but the women about him all laughed madly. Hearing the uproarious guffaws, Hoggle quieted. "Somebody better start talkin'," he grumped as he crossed his arms tight over his chest and slammed back against the seat. As Chataigne and Stardust, both dressed in their formal royal accouterments, broke into a trot, Arulan explained the queen's presence. Hoggle's tiny hands grabbed the sides of his shaking head, "If I live here for a thousand more years I'll never understand this place, or the women in it!"
When they were still a hundred feet away, Sarah watched as the Cleric and his holy servants approached the alter. Each row of seats ended with a pedestal of phlox, a flower meant to represent souls uniting and arching above the alter was a trellis of ivy laced with violets. "Ivy," the Sidhe told Sarah, "are a symbol of wedded love and fidelity and the violets, which I carried on my own wedding day, symbolize the taking of a chance at happiness." Their rich purple was a brilliant contrast to the bright yellow daffodils in Sarah's bouquet. She had chosen them herself, long stemmed yellow daffodils, outlined by the variety with a white skirt and all tied with the satin bow made from Arulan's dress fabric. Meant to say to Jareth as she stood by his side, 'You are my only one.'
Quickly Sarah felt at her neck and her ears for her mother's diamonds and just under the gathers of her left sleeve was her grandmother's handkerchief. Everything was in order. She felt prepared, that was until the music began to play and Jareth began to stride down the aisle. In all the preparing they had done, she hadn't thought about what he would be wearing. From head to toe he wore white. His hair tinged blue to match the navy in Arulan's gown. His boots bearing the family crest in gold, calf high on the outsides. His breeches rising up his incredibly long legs and consuming the tail of a flouncy white painter's shirt. Prominently around his neck he wore his crest and his broad shoulders were well squared by a fine cape with a golden owl embroidered on it's back, just peeking from beneath the tail of the cape was the tip of his great grandfather's sword. It was perhaps the most magnificent Sarah had ever seen him.
In his shadow walked Deverell and as they passed the congregation knelt. Left and right, Jareth made subtle gestures with his hands indicating they were free to rise. When he reached the alter he turned, Deverell still just over his left shoulder. Though they were still too far away to make out and distinguishing characteristics, Sarah's newly acquired fey senses told her there was a look of nervousness upon his handsome face, but none, she thought, so great as was on her own.
The carriage loomed ever closer to the end of the aisle, Sarah could see Sarah One, a tiny wicker basket in her hand, reaching inside and tossing a splash of red rose petals on to the blush colored runner which designated the aisle. Well not so much tossing them onto the runner, but tossing them up in to the air and then laughing and dancing in their shower as they fell. To her right, a slightly less enthusiastic, Balmek, tossed out handfuls of white petals which landed in clumps. By the time they had reached the center, he was seven rows ahead of his partner, eager to finish this walk and scamper into is seat between his parents.
"Are you ready then sweet child?" the Sidhe asked when the horses halted.
Sarah smiled at her with vast admiration, "I should be asking that of you."
"Indeed," she said sharing the same look her son often gave the ex-mortal. With a hefty sigh, she gathered the bottom of her gown and prepared to step out.
"Allow me," Hoggle said proudly as he hurried out of the carriage door.
Inside the Sidhe staled and Sarah watched as the nervousness on Jareth's face grew exponentially. "Do something," Sarah nudged Arulan who then exited the carriage and stood to the left of the step up. "Go on," Sarah encouraged the Sidhe. "Your son is waiting for you."
As if that were the precise encouragement she had needed, Leanan Sidhe rose from her seat and popped her head out of the carriage door. Before her feet had touched the ground, the entire collection of guests let out a cumulative gasp and hit the ground. "Get up," she commanded them. "I am no longer," and she could have easily stopped at that, but after a small pause, she went on, "no longer your queen. You have but one ruler, one real king," and here she looked at her son, whose strong composure kept him from charging down the aisle to his mother's arms. Her thin fingers rose to her lips and threw a kiss in Jareth's direction. Moments later he felt the warm press of her lips against his cheek.
The Sage rushed to her side and lead the Sidhe down the aisle where she sat safely between the two members of the Triumvirate not actively involved in the ceremony. Arulan then walked down the aisle and took her spot opposite Deverell.
When the music changed, Sarah recognized her cue immediately. It wasn't hard to distinguish the familiar sound of the bard they had met in the northwest sector when they first journeyed to the Triumvirate. Sarah eased out of the carriage door, taking Hoggle's hand and staring out over the crowd as she descended the step.
From the moment her head first rose, Jareth locked eyes on his bride. She was perfection from every angle, the look of her, the cut of her gown, the curl of her hair, and the flowers that she had chosen, spoke their message as clearly as the words of his wedding song to her, still playing in the background.
Squeezing her fingers, the tiny dwarf at her feet looked up, "You sure this is what you want?" he asked before they started down the aisle.
"Positive," she reassured him and off they went. The guests rose as she passed and stayed on their feet.
From the far back corner of the bride's side, a great beast rose. Perched upon his shoulder sat a noble fox. "Sar - rah pretty," Ludo roared.
Didymus was bound to agree, "Yes, yes, quite lovely, quite."
All around her Sarah looked at the smiling faces and the weeping eyes. Sarah had reached the alter. Hoggle gave her hand over to Jareth not too nonchalantly giving him a criticizing look.
The newly made Representative took his seat with his wife and child, beside them a thick pillow upon which Winston and Jena watched the ceremony. Jareth took her hand, kissing the back gently. "You're stunning," he whispered.
It was as he complemented her that Sarah noticed his face, the gold flecks upon his eyelids that brought out the blue of his eyes, the liner on the edge of his lids that drew the focus of her stare, the light gloss which made her want to kiss his lips right then and there. She watched the tears form in his eyes and fought back her own.
They turned to face the Cleric. The bard's strong voice brought out creatures of all types to settle on the Labyrinth's walls, scatter along the hills and scurry into trees, all doing their best for a small peek at the festivities.
The last notes of the guitar faded before the Cleric spoke. "Ladies and gentlemen of the Underground, royals and commoners alike, we're gathered here today to witness the union of Jareth, Goblin King of the Underground, to Sarah." Her last name was omitted as was a former mortal affiliation. Those things were her past and this was her future. "If anyone here has any objection to make with respect to the union of these two, let them make their grievance public at this time." Eyes burned onto the Gavel waiting for some horrid response, but none came. "Sarah and Jareth culminate today a love which began sixteen years ago in a sense of reality, but spiritually it began generations before. Their journey has gone full circle. They have left each other to fly free as birds and yet they have found themselves drawn inexplicably to the same nest, to the familiarity of one another's closeness. They leave behind the loves of their past, leave behinds friends, families and all the nay sayers who doubted the success they have proven to be. They have nursed each other through illness and defended each other with their lives. Their testament to love and to one another is the thing of great tales to be told at fairy rings for centuries to come. It is their sincerest wish to prove their commitment by sharing aloud with you today their promises to one another."
"Sarah," Jareth spoke softly, "I have loved you for as long as I have known the meaning of the word. When you left me, you tore apart my world and every day between then and your return Underground, I vowed that if the Supreme One were to bring you back to me, I would spend everyday making up for not making it clear to you then what my feelings were. My happiness, my life, my kingdom, are all dependent upon you." Tears welled in both their eyes as his stare grew more and more intense. "I promise you to spend all the rest of our days expressing to you clearly that my heart is yours to treat as you deem fit, my life is yours to command, my kingdom yours to rule. Each of the people here today has grown to love you and I have grown to love you as much as their collective hearts. I can only stand to love you more as the years tick on and I will remain your humble slave forever."
"Jareth," and here Sarah drew a deep breath to compose herself, "coming to the conclusion that the maddening mix of emotions I felt for you were in fact love was one of the most deeply soul searching ordeals of my life, but not because you were difficult to love. Rather because I wanted to be able to say, without doubt or pretense, that my love for you was as certain as the sunrise. To reach the conclusion that flutter in my chest, the quiver in my knee and lightness in my head was my love for you wrecking havoc on my body was the most rewarding of my life and before this realm's inhabitants I make you this promise. Your heart will be in secure hands when you rest it in my palms. Your life will be safe when you intrust it to me and your kingdom will mean as much to me as it has always to you. You have quite literally made me what I am today and for the rest of my days I will be trying to show you my thanks for that. You have given me my every wish, fulfilled my every dream and taught me the best of magics, your love, for that is truly the greatest magic I have ever known."
Even the Cleric at this point had to swallow back a lump risen in his throat. "There are to be rings."
"Yes, yes, I...uh...erm..." Deverell fumbled in his pocket for the rings before handing them to the Cleric, "Here you are."
Recognizing them immediately, the Cleric shot a clandestine glance at the Leanan Sidhe. "We ask the Supreme One to bless these rings as we ask him to bless the wearers of the rings and in respect for Sarah's former race's customs, I ask Jareth to take this ring, place it on the third finger of Sarah's left hand and repeat after me. I offer you this ring as a symbol of our love."
Jareth too recognized the ring, rolling it about in his palm before he lifted his bride's small fingers and placed the band as he had been instructed. "I offer you this ring as a symbol of our love."
"As a symbol of our fidelity."
"As a symbol of our fidelity."
"And with this ring I take you to be my lawfully wedded wife."
"And with this ring I take you to be my lawfully wedded wife."
"To have and to hold from this day forward."
"To have and to hold from this day forward."
"For richer or poorer, in sickness and in health."
"For richer or poorer, in sickness and in health."
"Til death do us part."
"Til death do us part."
The band slid easily into place on her finger and then it was her turn to accept the ring from the Cleric which only an hour earlier she had accepted from the Sidhe. Without quiver or choke she repeated all the words the Cleric gave her until the last statement, when the woman looked deep into the eyes of her husband and said definitively, "Forever." In case it could be misconstrued by anyone that something as paltry as death could stop their love. The Sidhe had taught her that.
"Very well," the Cleric said. "It is my sincerest pleasure to present this necklace to you, Sarah, Goblin Queen of the Underground." From the alter he lifted the necklace Jareth had given her for protection, the one the Sidhe had worn as queen. Stepping out around to Sarah's side, the Cleric held it to her neck and used his magic to unfasten it, draw the ends to her back, beneath her hair and veil and fastened them. "You may, if you so wish, kiss the bride Jareth; however, I'm sure there'd be no problem finding you a substitute if you're not feeling up to it."
Smiling broadly he swept his new bride into his arms, "There is nothing I feel more capable of doing. The kiss he gave her just then was not the polite publically acceptable kiss Sarah always imagined her wedding kiss would be but rather it was a deep and powerful romantic kiss that should have cast any unspoken doubt out of the mind of any attendee who had previously failed to speak. It certainly surpassed everything Sarah had imagined.
With the ceremony ended, there was nothing left to do, but for the happy couple to lead the march around to the gardens where a proper reception had been planned. Twink was there to announce the arrival of the new king and queen. There was more than enough for everyone to eat several helpings and the mead and wine barrels were rolled in as needed to accommodate the guests' thirst. Jareth and Sarah went cluster to cluster saying their hellos to the guests and answering the questions of the royals. As often as he could, the king sat with his mother, both saying the things they always wished they had. As often as possible, the Sidhe made some excuse to reach out for him, to touch his face or brush back his hair.
Ranofyr kept his distance, staying little longer than it took im to eat and waving from across the grounds as he took his leave.
"A permanent invitation to you both," Elbereth told them before leaving himself. "You're welcome at any time, together or separately, alone or with company, however many the number."
But it was Gandor who embraced them best. "Sarah, marriage suits you quite well. If it is possible,' he gathered up her hands, "you look even more lovely then when first we were introduced.
"Thank you," she blushed.
"And you, your majesty, 'tis no doubt you are most fortunate to have turned this eye and won this heart."
"Fortunate indeed," Jareth admitted. "May I thank you once more for the hospitality you have always extended to both of us."
Gandor took them into his massive arms, "Thank me by bringing your little ones to visit the workshops and play with the elves, that I may see the wonder in their eyes as once I saw in yours." The newlywed's faces hung. "It was your intention for children, was it not?" he asked upon noticing their expressions.
"Yes," Sarah told him with a weak smile, "that was our intention."
Cheers and shouts interrupted their fraternization, "Dance! Dance! Dance!" they requested.
"Your people are already making demands of you my queen, should we oblige them or tell them to piss off?" Jareth chided her.
"I think it best for realm relations if we oblige them," and then to play on his joke, she added, "just this once."
As her son held his new bride tenderly in his embrace, the Leanan Sidhe watched on. Tears streamed freely down her face as she watched them gliding across the garden, their eyes expressing more to one another than words ever could, their hands gripping each other's frame as if the idea that they could be torn from one another at any moment was still weighty on their minds. This was the greatest gift her life had ever brought her. Arulan's hand folded over hers, slipping a hanky between her long fingers. It was only then, the Sidhe even realized she had been crying. As the song ended the couple kissed, refusing to reign in their passions for one another and headed back toward Jareth's mother. Though she quickly tried to dry her eyes, Sarah easily saw the tracks beneath her eyes.
"Jareth," she whispered covertly into her husband's ear, "dance with your mother."
"As you wish," he replied, as he always did, as he always would. "Mother?" he asked extending his hand. She looked up at him like a school girl at her first big dance. "Dance with me? Dance with your son?" He clutched her unsteady hand and pulled her into his arms, lucky for her too, her knees were weaker than wet cardboard.
One by one, those on the dance floor took notice of the king dancing with his mother, they backed away until a ring formed around the couple. A thick ring which Sarah fought through so she could see her husband fiercely hold his one time tangible mother as she wept on his shoulder. "Thank you mother."
"Please don't thank me. I have never done anything to deserve your thanks or to deserve your love. I just consider myself fortunate to have them."
"You are more deserving than you give yourself credit for," he whispered to her, pressing his lips against her cheek.
She returned his kiss, her cheek wet against his. "I'm sorry I can't stay, can't be with you for all that lies ahead for you and the woman that you love, but know this, I will watch over you for all your days. Death cannot take a mother from her child. I will hear you when you call my name and when you speak to me I will listen. When you ask of me I will send my reply on the wind or write it in the stars, but I promise you I will always be nearby."
"And I will look for you mother, in all I do and everything I see, I will look for you."
"You have been an exceptional child." The Sidhe's eyes sought Sarah out of the crowd. "And you have chosen for your wife an exceptional woman. I wish you both exceptional happiness."
"I've heard you talk like this before mother."
"We knew my time here was not about to last forever."
Jareth's grip on her tightened and his head burrowed in his neck. "Mother, I beg you don't go."
Her hands cupped his face, "My son, I can never leave you, we are each other. You came from me and you will carry me with you all your days. Do not weep for what you lose this day, rather relish in what you gain. Much lies before you and to darken it with my shadow would bring me pain." She turned to summon Sarah as the music changed. The Sidhe linked hands with both of them. "Be here for one another, hold each other up if you fall, be strength to each others weakness. Thank you both for letting me share this day, for letting me share your lives and for breaking through to me even after I asked repeatedly to be left alone. You two are my legacy and I could not be more proud."
"The Supreme One was this kind to you, don't you think that if he knew, truly knew all you had been through in life, perhaps he would let you stay," Sarah suggested.
Leanan Sidhe turned to her with a wide smile. "My love, the Supreme One knows truly, the story of all our lives and that is why I've been given this chance. He knew my true heart could never hate my only child. Tonight he gave me the chance to set that straight. I could not ask him for anything more." She caught both their attentions with a tight grasp of their hands, "Learn this from me if nothing else my babies, you have but one life even if it lasts forever, don't waste it wondering what could have been, but live it dreaming of what can be."
It was after her parting words that she cast back from the newlyweds, her arms outstretched, a familiar white light filling her aura as her majestic voice filled the night. "The sun is sleeping quietly once upon a century. Wistful notions come and rid hardened caresses laid to rest. For my dreams I hold my life, for my wishes I behold my nights. The truth at the end of time, losing faith makes a crime. I wish that this night time could last for a life time. In darkness surround me, shows off all my sins, oh how I wish to go down with the sun, sleeping, weeping with you." Simultaneously, Sarah and Jareth fell to their knees as the Sidhe rose up from the ground her head thrown back and her lips still in contrast to her voice which continued to ring at them from all angles. "Sorrow has a human heart, for my god it will depart. I've sailed between a thousand moons never faulting where to go. Two hundred twenty two days of light will be desired by a night. A moment for a poet's pain, until there is nothing left to say, I wish for this night time to last for a lifetime. In darkness surround me, shows off all my sins." The whirling dervish which brought her to this realm, tore her from it, her love for her son and his new bride as obvious as the moon, "Oh how I wish to go down with the sun, sleeping, weeping with you."
Sarah clung to her husband there before their guests, before their loved ones and the Triumvirate who had formed a wall behind them and who had laid their hands on them in support.
Not wanting to dampen the festivities, Sarah and Jareth quickly put aside the strong feeling regarding him mother's departure, saving them for a private time when she could be properly grieved. Making that task easier was the fact that the Triumvirate had whisked them off to a corner of the garden where they had left their gift. The Sage covered Sarah's eyes and the Cleric covered the king's and the Gavel uncovered an ornamental sized tree, a Rowan tree, a graceful breed with grey brown bark found at altitudes of over one thousand feet. "We've brought it down from the mountain," the Gavel told them.
"This tree," the Sage added, "was sprouted out of a rock face, its seed left by a bird in a crevasse there. It has weathered much as have you two."
"And its legend of protective value is well known," the Cleric added. "It will ensure that no one will be able to bring harm again to your home."
"Thank you," Jareth said, shaking each of their hands.
When he extended his palm to the Gavel, the elder drew him close, "If I told you now that I had to test to you, had to be sure of both your feelings for each other, would you curse me?"
"I'd have cursed you for a lot less," Jareth chided him. "Let us heed my mother's warning and live for our tomorrows your highness."
"Agreed," the Gavel said reaching to include Sarah in their embrace.
Outside the party went on until every goblin lie passed out in the cobblestones of the city, but the bride and groom retired shortly after midnight to begin their honeymoon. Jareth had planned for them a week's stay at a mountain spot inhabited only by a few sprites who would be only too happy to serve the newest king and queen. Upon recommendation by the Cleric, they had gotten permission to stay, but that was to begin tomorrow. Tonight was more than enough anticipation to last them until then.
Alone at last, Sarah flung the head piece from her crown and sighed. "I thought they'd never let us leave."
Draping his long since undone cape over the back of one of the chairs, Jareth commented, "We're their king and queen Sarah, love, they have no pow..."
Before he could utter what she thought he was about to, his wife pinned her fingers over his lips, "Hush. I'm not taking any chances with those words ever again." She found herself quickly pulled into his embrace. "Beside, I think you know how much power you have over me."
"Likewise love, likewise." Jareth covered her lips with his wet mouth, kissing her passionately. "I feel as if I've waited for you all my life."
"In some ways, you have."
"True," he conceded. "Very true, but I mean to say this moment. To love you with no regard for consequence."
"Tell me was it a wait worth making?"
"Greatly," he sighed as his lips kneaded the tight skin of her neck. "Sarah," he said softly as he searched her hair for her perfect ears, "this is your first time as a fey, my love, and things will not be the same as they were before." She had guessed this already. The mere touch of his flesh to hers had felt electric and the few kisses they had shared that night had done their part to moisten the well hidden treasure between her thighs. "If I'm moving too fast, if you're feeling..."
Her fingers hushed him again, "Really husband, have you no better use for these lips then to make them flap endlessly?"
Spirit like hers was not easily made nor easily matched. To quiet her complaint, he snapped his fingers. In a flash what had been organized for her as a virginal bridal suite became hinted with little bits of what would prove to be a playful romantic adventure. The bed was suddenly thick with a layer of rose petals and peacock feathers and the candles were all dark reds giving the floor a warm and fiery glow. Champagne buckets on either night table and while she looked about vainly attempting to take it all in, Jareth scooped her up and sat her on the bed. The love they made that night was ignited with all the passions of the fey.
Sometime in the night they shuffled round, until Jareth was spooned behind her, his left hand fallen over hers, their wedding bands overlapping. Anyone watching, and let's pray to the Supreme One no one was, would have seen the unique glow the bands took on when they were so close together and even the slowest goblin would have been forced to draw the connection between the rings and the wearers of the rings, for the pale fey skin which had always been a trademark of the fey was now a healthy pink with the human flush of love.
