Unseeled

by FangamerBowiextreme

Sarah, contending over the imminent death of her terminally ill father, receives a proposition that sounds too good to be true. The life of her father, the eternal protection of a fae over her family, in exchange for her hand in marriage. In a moment of weakness, and too guilt-stricken to refuse, she accepts the proposal -but to whom, she has no idea. So long as it isn't 'Him'.

8. Chapter 8

A/N- Yay, I snuck this in before Xmas! I wasn't sure if I was going to be able to, but here we are and with plenty of time to spare =P Happy Holidays everyone! Hopefully I'll be able to crank out the Yule installment of Night of a Thousand Deaths in time as well =D

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Chapter 8, Temperate

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Sarah woke the following morning feeling pleasantly liberated.

There were no surprise guests, no awkward meetings, no schedule to keep to, or any sort of expectation other than keeping herself alive and entertained. It was amazing, really —like being on vacation.

She rolled out of bed at her leisure at the hour of nine-thirty-two (late by her standards) and took her sweet-ass time to do anything else.

She rang for breakfast and, just like the previous morning, something fresh and delectable was promptly delivered. Today, Cedric had prepared for her a classic spread of French toast, sliced oranges, and sweetened bacon and sausage. The familiarity of it was nearly as pleasing as the taste. So, naturally, she felt obligated to devour every bit of it.

The maids did not come to greet her. She'd reminded them of how unnecessary it was to do so at dinner the previous night. Maybe one of these days she'd actually want to spend some sororal bonding time with them, but not quite yet. Knowing they only wanted to hang out with her because they had either been ordered to, or in the effort to impress Lochlan, wasn't exactly thawing the ice on her end. To both her relief and odd disappointment, this did not seem to bother them. In fact, they were barely concerned with her at all. The amount of idle chatter that had happened at that dinner table was near nonstop. She might as well have been a sconce on the wall.

Oh well. She'd always been a bit of a loner.

After breakfast, she showered and changed and primped herself up —though not without some irony. Who was she trying to impress here, exactly? Herself? Bah! Her version of self care was flannels and a tub of cookie dough in bed, so clearly her subconscious was working towards something else. Was it the maids? Jareth? What were her chances of even seeing any of them? Wasn't she supposed to be too good to care?

Damn him, she thought, being all dark and mysterious and curiously AWOL. How was she supposed to make him come to her if he lacked even a basic initiative? She didn't see him after the incident in the card room —as she'd aptly dubbed it— and Lochlan had been the definition of aloof when she'd asked him about it at dinner. Nearly twenty-four hours had passed since then of nothing. Nada. While she would always deny it, she'd practically poised herself like a goddamn Venus in furs out on her balcony that night just waiting for a certain owl to swoop in so she could promptly reject what she thought was his lecherous and dastardly nature.

But no. Turns out, he was a gentleman. Or...maybe he was busy. Or...he just didn't care.

Fuck, it was irritating.

It was nearing one o'clock in the afternoon by the time she was ready for more...nothing...and could only pace around her room as she pondered what to do.

In the end, she concluded that since yesterday she had gone right, today she should go left and explore that half of the castle. She was bound to run into something (or someone) interesting. Maybe she'd get to hear more uncensored backstory from the maids again.

But of course, that sense of optimism was as fleeting as the syrup drenched bacon on her plate had been. She wandered around and found a whole lot of (surprise, surprise) nothing. No one. Zero. Zilch. Ugh.

She knew it was the maids' job to clean the place, but what was everyone else up to? Where was Madam Miri? Lochlan? Bastian, or Dermot?

From their conversations the previous night, she got the feeling most of them spent the bulk of their time working outdoors. Hm…

That might be interesting, she thought. She'd yet to traipse the castle grounds, especially now that they were spontaneously covered in foliage. Damn —she'd forgotten to ask them about that at dinner.

With no better heading, she summoned a guard and bid it to escort her outside. It did so immediately, which she supposed quelled her suspicions of whether or not she was even allowed to.

It brought her through the lower levels to a random, completely unsuspecting door which then opened on its own. She paused before exiting the castle, feeling like an alarm might go off should she step on the wrong tile.

But, of course, no such thing happened. No, there was not any effort to impede her or warn her of the potential dangers beyond, whatsoever. Huh. …Must be safe then? she mused as she took that preliminary step.

The outside world was a reflection of her bedroom wall —lush, plush greenery being just barely contained behind the effort of some very lackluster, and absent, caretakers.

She stood on a lawn. A courtyard once, she presumed, by the glimpse of stone tiles she saw poking out of the grass here and there. There were some hedges —unkempt— creating walkways and pseudo-mazes around the space that came only to the height of her hip. They centered around a fountain, overtaken by budding vines which wormed through cracks in the stone, disrupting its once elegant composition into something left jagged and crooked.

Weak streams of water sputtered from its spouts, mounted on tiers which supported a tired old geyser at its pinnacle. It seemed to cough as it struggled against the invasion of the vines, drowning itself in the effort to carry on. Ah, such were they all, she thought.

The twitter of birds echoed from high above, directing her attention to the treeline up ahead.

It was darkened, overshadowed by a dense canopy of spindly, otherworldly trees. Her head tilted as she regarded it, as the sight of a strange, white ambience emitting from those depths triggered a memory.

There was a bench close to her. It was half hidden in tall grass, but it would do.

She sat down and folded her hands in her lap, inhaling deeply of fresh, magically charged air as she took in the scenery.

It was peaceful there. A little neglected, sure, but pleasant all the same. She had no idea how long she sat there —just musing about how much time she could spend by taking up a hobby like gardening— when a flicker of movement caught her eye.

She glanced over into the trees. She'd heard the snap of a twig, too, so was sure there was a critter about. She saw nothing, however, and heard no other sounds.

What could it be? she wondered. A rabbit? A fiery? A mountain troll?!

Honestly she was game for just about anything at that point. Geez. Maybe she shouldn't have been so abrasive and given the maids another chance…

But there it was again. That flicker. A shadow behind the trees. Sarah narrowed her eyes as she focused on it and...and then they widened.

I often see him taking walks around the grounds…

Lochlan had said that. Goddamn it. She set herself up, didn't she? Hadn't she resolved herself not to go looking for him again?

But of course, she was her own worst enemy. And, of course, he would be here of all places and at all times.

Sarah's nosy nature, instigated by boredom, compelled her to spy on Jareth as he walked deeper into the woods.

What the hell is he doing? she asked herself. Where is he going?

Oh, questions, questions. How ever would she get them answered?

Like a thief in the night (or in her case, a very foolish voyeur in broad daylight), she picked up the skirt of her dress and shuffled as quietly as she could to catch up with him.

By the time she crossed the underbrush, he was just barely in sight. She could see his cape, black and tattered, as it contrasted against his hair. She felt herself wobbling as she tried to sleuth about, wondering, and cursing, how he managed to move so silently in all those bulky clothes.

She followed him for several minutes, eyes glued to his silhouette and sparing no attention whatsoever for her whereabouts or how to find her way back.

They were moving deeper into the forest, losing sunlight between thickening layers of leaves. The white mist surrounding them grew and glittered, painting the trees wet with alien beads of something that speckled their bark and the ferns that tickled her calves as she passed.

She felt a little nervous. Sneaking up on him was probably a bad thing, she admitted. But still, it was just too interesting. They said curiosity killed the cat, but a more dangerous temptation was surely boredom because, holy hell, the kinds of morbid fancies she was currently imagining of what might await them at the end of this path were turning out to be down right thrilling.

She stepped precariously over a log, sparing a split second to glance down to mind her footing. That split second may as well have been an eternity, however, for when she looked back up, he was gone.

"What? Where the fuck—"

"Are you trying to follow me?"

Sarah yelped and jumped a step forward before twirling around and facing Jareth. He was standing directly behind her, his head cocked as he bent forward to speak into her ear.

Her heart lurched into her throat and pounded there, rendering her dumb and frightful as he gradually straightened. His head slowly tilted to the other side, and he arched an expectant brow as he regarded her.

Sarah licked her lips as she settled. Jesus fucking Christ—

"What? No. I uh...I was just going for a walk," she said, stupidly, with eyes that darted to both sides. Jareth's stare on her was unreadable. By the time she finally stopped panicking and tried to analyze it, he dismissed her fluster and stepped away.

He did not reply, did not rebut or tease her quite obvious attempt at a lie, which left her very on edge when he instead took a small step around her and carried on his original trajectory. His cape brushed against her shoulder as he moved, and she turned around on a dime to follow after him.

She hesitated and let him get a few paces ahead of her, staring on in confusion. He did not stop. Did not look back or signal it was okay for her to follow. Maybe she should go back…

She skipped ahead to trail in his wake.

"So...what are you doing out here?" she asked. Jareth glanced back like he hadn't realized she was still there.

"Walking," he said. Sarah pursed her lips.

"Why?"

To her dissatisfaction, he looked forward again, blinking very slowly before replying, "I enjoy the quiet. It's...peaceful."

His tone was subdued. Sounded tired. Her lingering adrenaline told her it might be displeasure towards her. It made her feel a little awkward, and so her eyes lowered to watch the way the ends of his cape slinked over fallen leaves and grass in front of her.

"Oh…"

Geez. It'd been two seconds and already he was being weird. Well, maybe not weird, but certainly off-putting. She couldn't tell if she was bothering him. After the note they'd left off on the previous day, it threw her for a loop. She wanted to badger him with questions, but his back facing her proved both a literal and figurative wall.

They walked in silence as Sarah pondered what to say next. Her eyes, in scrutiny, kept darting up to the back of his head. He did not look back at her again. It kind of annoyed her, honestly. Dark and mysterious indeed…

"So...I've kind of been looking for you," she said, taking one for the team for the betterment of her supposed —and now ironic— hard to get scheme. She stumbled a little as the skirt of her dress caught on a twig.

"Oh?" Jareth replied. His eyes peered back shrewdly while she was distracted. She was hobbling on one foot as she regained balance. A grin creeped as he looked away.

"Yeah. I didn't see you after Lochlan shooed me out. What did he want?" she asked.

"Nothing important."

Sarah looked up from the ground with a quirked brow.

"Important enough that I couldn't hear," she said. There was provocation in that comment. Enough that Jareth paused in his step and turned around to face her. The sudden gesture had her stepping on the hem of her skirt again, though she composed herself quickly.

Jareth looked straight at her and locked eyes. Sarah's brow slowly drew as she regarded a certain sharpness about him.

"Not important and not your concern," he said, then turned back around and resumed his walk. Sarah drew back for a hot second, then made a very nasty face at the back of his head.

Well shit. This was deflating. It didn't seem like he had any interest in speaking with her. Had she dreamed that almost-kiss? Was this that same doppelganger she'd met on the windowsill? And yet, just like that night, he was enduring her company all the same. Hm...maybe she should just shut up and see where he was leading her.

She kicked out the skirt of her dress in the effort to properly walk, and glanced around their surroundings.

"This place...was a desert the last time I was here," she heard herself say. Her brow had turned down. She was feeling a little dispassionate as her eyes roamed among the figures of white fairies floating between the bushes.

Jareth glanced up into the trees.

"It's the season," he said. Sarah tilted her head at him.

"Yeah...I keep hearing people say that, but it doesn't really make sense to me. I saw the Labyrinth from my window and the whole thing looks like a forest. How can that happen in a mere five years?"

Jareth clasped his hands behind his back as he walked.

"The seasons here operate differently than in your world. I suppose...it is more accurate to label them as biomes."

"Biomes?"

"Yes...what you experience as spring, summer, fall, winter, we experience as desert, temperate, arctic, etcetera."

Sarah's expression twisted with puzzlement as she looked over the landscape once more.

"Oh. Wow. That's crazy."

Jareth peered back one more time.

"...not really."

She was looking up into the canopy. Had that wide-eyed look of wonder he remembered seeing on her so long ago. He looked away before she could catch him regarding it.

"The island was in transition when last you were here," he explained. "The land had just begun to shift from the desert to forest season. The change is nearly complete now. I imagine the last traces of sand will float away within a year or so."

"Does it always take that long for seasons to change?"

"Sometimes."

"How long do seasons last? What one comes next?" There was an overwhelming sense of eagerness that carried those words. Curiosity. Excitement. Jareth felt his head starting to turn towards her again.

"I don't know," he said and shrugged. "There is no pattern to it. Seasons change at random. Some may last a century, others less than a year. Transition may take a matter of weeks, others decades. It has become...a bit of an art to predict what each new season will be." And his eyes peered upward once more. "For a time I suspected the forest would become tropical, but...I'm now fairly certain it will remain temperate."

"Huh. That's so interesting," Sarah said, and then stumbled forward as she stepped on the skirt of her dress. She gasped, which was enough to trigger a reflex in Jareth. He turned around and caught her just before she could fall over.

Sarah gulped. She was staring at the ground and had fully expected to make intimate contact with it. The thing she was in intimate proximity with, however, was far more dangerous. She licked her lips and removed herself from Jareth's grasp. He'd taken a very firm hold of her upper arms on instinct —though the memory it spurred within her, she was far too conscious of.

"Careful now. Someone might think you're a damsel," Jareth said and, if she didn't know any better, she would have said he was teasing her. Her eyes flickered up tentatively, surprised to find a very faint grin curling his lips.

Feeling suddenly embarrassed, Sarah's eyes looked anywhere but at him. "Sorry. I'm not used to wearing long skirts, I guess."

Jareth's gaze lowered over her, eyeing the way the hem of her dress draped over her toes as she took a step back.

"It's because your dress is ill-fitted," he said, raising his gaze back to her face. Sarah's brow lifted as she compulsively looked over herself.

"It is?"

"That ensemble was not made for you," he continued, finally content to hold her stare when she looked up at him. She saw a slight shadow under his eyes, but it wasn't his markings. He looked...tired. "You keep tripping because the skirt is too long. Tell Miri to have your wardrobe altered when you get back."

Sarah's brow knitted as she stared at him, for some reason finding significance to the way he'd referred to the castle matron so informally. She wanted to ask about it, but she didn't.

"Oh. Okay. Thanks."

She continued to eye him as he turned back around and started walking again. Just like that. Sarah nibbled her lip as she silently followed.

Seconds turned into minutes. She was becoming distracted by her own musing, and thus didn't realize her pace had gone out of sync with his. A moment later she stepped on his cape, causing him to ungracefully grunt and jerk backward.

Jareth growled in irritation and turned around to glare at her.

Sarah winced.

"Sorry," she said and raised her hands in a sign of appeasement. Jareth's eyes narrowed on her, his glare sharpening until it reached a point Sarah found to be just plain unnecessary. She endured it for one second before turning defensive. "What?" she snapped, stepping back off his cape with a huff. He didn't answer her. Sarah rolled her eyes away. "Oh, don't give me that look. Maybe if you walked in line with me like an equal this wouldn't happen." And she crossed her arms tightly. One of Jareth's brows arched, but she was having none of it. She returned his look and tossed a flippant hand in the air. "And who the hell wears a freaking cape on a hike anyway? I thought I was the one supposedly improperly dressed?"

She scoffed and shook her head, rolling her eyes away from him again. Jareth felt his teeth grind as a small heat built behind his eyes.

His gaze traced the curve of her lips as they twisted in profile, regarded the tension in her brow and the cutting highlight on her eye. A tick moved through his expression as he subdued his more impulsive urges, and then he sighed roughly.

"Well now, Princess. I didn't realize there was something stopping you from taking the initiative to walk in line with me," he said and grabbed her firmly by the wrist. "But, if it really means so much to you—"

Sarah tried not to gasp and instead pulled away as he aggressively pulled her forward. She stumbled close to his side, her eyes going wide with expectation as he held her arm up in the space between them and glared. She watched the color around his eyes flicker just then, moving as a black shadow that spidered outward and then vanished. If it was meant to intimidate her, it failed. She only sucked in a sharp inhale and curled her captured hand into a fist.

"Let go of me," she said and tried to jerk herself free. Jareth found her efforts to be literally laughable.

"Heh, well which is it?" he asked, his expression taunting her with its amusement as he yanked her even closer. "So much trouble already," he continued and inclined his head towards her. "—and we're not even married yet."

He cocked a nasty half smile at the end like her huff of anger did nothing more than delight him. But, to her surprise, his commanding grip on her immediately loosened. His hand lowered to her elbow, and her ornery little eyes reflexively dropped to the motion as he locked her arm with his. Then, while she was still looking so offended, he leaned towards her with a very deriding light in his eyes. "Pick up your skirt," he said, biting each word. Sarah's eyes darted to her toes in a panic. "—And try not to drag me down with you next time, hm?"

His sneer humbled to an arrogant curl of the lips as he straightened and looked away from her. Her heart gave a hard pound just as he jerked her forward alongside him. They took a few steps in stride, in silence. She stared at him cautiously and, as she came to realize he was in fact not as murderous as such sudden aggression implied, felt her quickened pulse shift to become symptomatic of an entirely different kind of panic. Uh-oh.

Hm...so forceful, she thought —giving him a very canny side eye as she felt the corners of her lips beginning to curl. She had to turn away to conceal it. So very *manly* of you. Her pursed lips pursed as hard as they could, but she was unable to hold back the grin any longer. She covered her mouth with the tips of her fingers as she stared intently to the side.

Surely she was playing with fire. Surely it would be sheer stupidity to laugh at him right now. But oh, he looked so damn flustered —trying to be all scary with that dark makeup and roguish demeanor. It almost worked for a minute there.

She rolled her lower lip over her teeth as she glanced back towards him and lightly squeezed his arm. Spontaneous manhandling aside, the way he now carried himself with her was very genteel.

"What's this? An escort?" she asked, then peered up with a wry eye which he could not help but hone in on. Her brow arched very sharply as she said, "Careful now. Someone might think you're a gentleman."

Jareth, with what was once a stern expression, regarded her with the same kind of savvy as an impulsive grin twitched to life.

He huffed through his nose then arched a brow in her direction. "Someone ought to know better."

Sarah's eyes roamed slyly away as she bit the inside of her cheek. There was practically a twinkle in his eye as he said that. Hm. So, he was still capable of being playful after all? Even when he was annoyed? Gosh...that was kind of cute.

A few moments passed while she reveled in that odd state of satisfaction. She even curled her hand around his bicep for better stability. Oh, how daring.

"So...where are we going? We're pretty deep in the forest. Is there a destination for this walk?" she asked.

Jareth peered to the side.

"Perhaps."

Sarah scowled and pursed her lips.

"Perhaps? Well that's cryptic."

She was looking away but turned back in reaction to the faint rumble of laughter that she felt moving his chest. She found him staring straight ahead with a smirk on his face.

"Something funny?" she asked.

She watched him warily as he brought them to a standstill, then turned and looked down at her.

"Yes. You."

The audacity poised in how he held his eyes on hers had her fingers twitching with offense, but the way it paired with that cheeky little grin was her undoing. She could only squeeze his arm tighter as she rolled her eyes away.

She huffed in annoyance, which seemed to be a satisfying enough reaction for Jareth as he looked away once more and pulled her off in a different direction.

"Your right to concern was forfeit when you chose to insert yourself in my business," he said, tugging her close to his side whenever he felt her start to worm away. There was hesitation in her step now. It excited him. "It's very rude to spy on people —follow them, accost them, attack them, then have the audacity to question their integrity and intensions—"

"Wha?" Sarah asked, staring at him dubiously as she tripped over a rock. "What conversation were you participating in exactly?"

Jareth laughed again and used the force of their locked elbows to keep her walking straight.

"Perhaps, since you've put forth so much effort into the matter, you should settle down and just let me escort you there." And he turned and shot her an eye. "You may have heard that patience is a virtue —or have you become the type of woman who prefers a more instant kind of gratification?"

Sarah's brow slowly drew together as she stared at him. That dastardly twinkle was back. Was...that an innuendo? Was he...flirting? Oh no. And that grin —was it meant to be teasing or...enticing? Fuck. She could feel a red alert moving as a blush up into her cheeks before sharply glancing away.

"I prefer not to be made fun of," she said tersely.

"And I prefer not to be followed."

He sounded a twinge more serious as he said that. Sarah gave in to the urge to peer up at him.

"You could have told me to leave."

"I'm aware."

"I don't mean to bother you."

"Did I say you were bothering me?" His eyes slanted down again and caught hers. She gaped for a moment, silent. Oh snap —he'd caught her off guard. "Although," he continued, roaming his eyes away. "All this fussing is disrupting the peacefulness of my afternoon walk. Perhaps you could do as I do and endure it. We're almost there anyway."

Sarah pursed her lips but said nothing —reluctantly looking away before very petulantly pretending to be more concerned with evaluating the aesthetics of their surroundings. Once she was actually distracted, Jareth spied on her again. She was vexed, clearly, but somehow still...very calm. She had no guard up whatsoever. That surprised him. He wasn't sure how to feel about it.

His attention briefly lowered to the spot where her hand held his arm, where her fingers mindlessly tapped and her thumb squeezed —and then he looked away.

---

They deviated from the current path and entered a denser part of the forest. Sarah was careful to do as he'd said and remember to hold up her skirt this time, as she had to step over young ferns and shrubs in the effort to not make herself a fool in front of him again. She had to hold onto his arm a little tighter because of this, though he didn't seem to mind. On the contrary, he actually braced his arm for her to help her over some more inconvenient logs.

At his recommendation, she stayed quiet. They both did. And she was thankful to find it actually quelled her annoyance towards him. She knew she could have a bit of a short fuse when it came to silver-tongued bastards like him, but...damn. Why did she find him so disarming?

She refused to ponder that while in such close proximity, and instead appreciated the peacefulness of the forest. She would agree with him on that, at least. It was nice. Quaint. Charming. —Uncanny as all get out, but still.

And quaint, charming, peaceful, uncanny little walks like this? Well, if this was to be her life now, then she had to admit it wasn't so bad. And...honestly...neither was he.

He looked very dapper today —wearing a dark maroon jacket beneath his cape, paired with a white tunic that was open and flowy in the chest. She could see the black cord of a necklace dropping beneath his shirt, which she assumed (intensely imagined) was connected to his pendant falling...just below his sternum. As they walked, Sarah's creeping gaze —at war with her denial— lowered even more and couldn't help but count the number of loose tassels leading down his front.

Four. There were four sets.

Eventually she heard the sound of running water and was able to break away from her ogling. Those tassels were her enemy, she determined. How dare they taunt her by being so wanton and untied.

She looked ahead just as the brush thinned. Between the trees she could see the surface of a pond. The water's pane reflected the dark canopy above, that blackened silhouette broken by pieces of light that had wormed themselves between cracks in the foliage. Those bright, pin-points seemed to sparkle as they undulated, ebbing and flowing on ripples created by a little stream that fed into the pond. There was something else behind the trees. Grey. Vague. Obelisks? She couldn't tell, and neither was she fully paying attention when she nearly bumped into a tree. Instinctively, she reached out and pressed a hand off it as she passed. As she released the bark, her eyes peered back.

She flinched when she saw there was a face in it.

But, before she could voice that moment of alarm, Sarah noticed several other trees around them that were just like it. They bore knots that looked like sleeping faces, all scattering farther and farther into the distance. Some of them even had humanlike figures. Branches looked like arms. Trunks looked like torsos or curvaceous hips. A few, she noted, even had discernable genders. That was...odd, she thought. They didn't look like carvings...

Jareth, seemingly ignorant to her skepticism, led her into the clearing. The grass turned to gravel, and he released her arm as she silently took another step forward.

The white mist thinned in this place. Made it easier to see. Though, in contrast, it only created a vignette for the space around them. Whatever leered behind the trees across from them was unknown. The ground was rocky, the gurgle of the stream now more apparent without the buffer of trees. Sarah left Jareth and his well-mannered hand behind her as she peered all around. The forms she had spied were not obelisks but rather...some very life like renditions.

Littering the area were dozens of statues, figures of tiny humanoids, the tallest of which barely came to her shoulder. They danced. Frolicked. Reclined in the gravel or in the grass. A few she even spied peeking out of the water. The whole area looked like a snapshot. Creatures left unsuspecting and forever captured in time. Sarah wandered from one statue to the next, her curious fingers slowly rising to caress the cheek of each one.

Such peaceful expressions, she thought. Even the ones that were so weathered barely any face was left to be recognized at all. Some, however, looked freshly carved, and the detail displayed in the rendering of hair alone was quite simply...beautiful.

Sarah turned around to find Jareth staring off vacantly.

"What is this place?" she asked, trailing her eyes down the slender figure of a girl-like thing forever placing a flower in its hair. "Is it...a sculpture garden?"

Jareth, mimicking her, took a step towards a statue and stared. She watched him lift a hand to touch it, but he didn't.

"No," he said, then lowered his hand back to his side. "It's a graveyard."

"What?"

Sarah drew back, reflexively looking down to the figure beside her. A graveyard? So...were these tombstones? She peered around and turned in a circle. There were...quite a lot of them.

"And they are not statues," she heard Jareth say, and she looked back over at him.

"Oh? Then what are they?"

Sarah's brow knitted as she watched him reach up and pluck open the sole button on his jacket.

"Corpses," he said, then turned casually towards her. "This place is a resting place for nymphs. What you see, these figures in the stones and the trees, are what remains of ones who have long since passed." He approached her and came to stand with a hand on his hip. Sarah, now feeling vaguely put off, took a step away from the creature she'd just been fondling.

He watched her as she turned clear away from him and looked over the pond again. Beneath the dark water she could see forms of nymphs curled into the mud. Some embraced. Some slept in fetal shapes. Some were so worn by the water they were little more than rocks.

"I don't understand," she said, her attention roaming back to the prancing bunch to the side of her. "They look so happy. In motion. Were they killed somehow?" She looked up at Jareth just as he looked down at her.

"No. All of the creatures here died naturally," he said. Sarah pursed her lips as they both looked away. "For whatever reason…" he started, his voice trailing off with distraction as he peered into the murky water. "...they gather here at the end of their life cycle to die."

"Oh. I see," Sarah said, absently staring at what looked to be a child skipping, hand in hand, with a parent. "But none of them look old or sick. I'm...confused."

"Nymphs are linked to nature via their environment," Jareth explained. Sarah looked over attentively. "Therefore, they can only survive so long as that environment is provided. Nymphs are born at the start of each season, likewise nymphs must die at the end." He took a step away from her and stared down at a gently formed face peeking out of the gravel. Sarah frowned as she thought over his words. "When last you were here, this place was littered with sand and wind nymphs. Now they are dead. Now, in their place, this pond births a variety of tree, flower, and water nymphs."

She watched him as he haphazardly brushed some of the dirt away from the creature buried before them with the toe of his boot. The expression on his face while doing so was curious. Like he was lost in thought.

"Oh," she said, and tilted her head as she looked around herself. "That's...kind of beautiful —and sad. It's tragic that they're forced to die just because the seasons change."

"I suppose," Jareth said, sliding his hands into the pockets on his jacket. "But, such is life on an island. On a continent they may follow their season. Here, however, there is nowhere for them to go."

"I see. So how then...can they look so happy?"

Jareth glanced over to find her looking very sympathetic.

"Why wouldn't they?" he answered with a shrug. "They live a very carefree life —however long or short it may be. I can't imagine they have much to regret by the time they come here."

Sarah looked away from him. The near silence of their surroundings was now getting to her. What was once peaceful now felt solemn. The twitter of the birds felt very far away.

"I guess," she said, then she turned around to the figure closest to her. "I didn't see any nymphs last time...What do they look like when they're alive?"

"I don't know," Jareth replied. Sarah looked over at him with confusion. "As I said, nymphs are linked to their environment. They are...spirits, in a sense. They only take on a tangible form in death." He took a step away from the face at his feet and averted his gaze to trail from one end of the canopy to the other. The gesture was leading, inciting Sarah to do the same. "For instance...since I presume you haven't yet noticed, we are actually surrounded by them."

"What?"

Sarah's look of confusion gained a trace of alarm as she scoured the leaves above them. She didn't see anything. So...they were invisible? Then how the heck could Jareth tell—

"Look around you," Jareth said, and her head snapped back down. One of his brows arched as he tilted his head. "And listen." Sarah stood in silence, looking dumb by darting her eyes every which way with a tightly knitted brow. She focused on her ears, but...all she heard were sounds of the forest. "Do you hear that?"

Sarah looked straight at him and scowled.

"Hear what?"

Jareth inhaled deeply and tilted his head to the other side. He didn't say anything right away. His attention was cast on the tree closest to them. After a few seconds, there was a rustle in the branches high above them. His head straightened as he looked back at Sarah.

"That."

Sarah's brow drew even tighter as she looked sharply up at the tree. She didn't see anything. Not a creature anyway. She did, however, catch a glimpse of a jostling branch just before the sound of another loud rustle. Like a burst of wind. Next it came from the bushes. Her attention darted to the underbrush just as a patch of tall grass shook.

"And that," Jareth said, eyeing the same bush. Next there was a little splash in the pond. Sarah had assumed they were fish, but apparently not. "...and that."

The inflection in Jareth's voice made it seem like he was speaking to a toddler, but Sarah was too intrigued to be offended by it. Her mouth hung open a little as more sounds and motions revealed themselves. She was now looking every which way. He was right. They really were surrounded.

"So...those are nymphs?" she asked skeptically.

"Yes. Scurrying about."

She heard a kerplop, and looked over just as three tiny steps were taken across the surface of the pond. She had no idea if that's what was happening, but the idea of a little nymph daintily dancing across the water's surface was delightful. She started to smile as she envisioned it.

"Huh...that's so cool."

She was distracted. She wasn't sure for how long. She did, however, snap back to attention at the sound of Jareth's shuffling. She looked over just in time to catch him taking off his jacket. "Um, what are you doing?"

Her brow furrowed tightly once more as he draped his coat and cape over a forearm before arbitrarily tossing them on the ground.

"What does it look like?" he asked, turning his back on her as he walked away. There was a flattened boulder of sorts a short distance away. Sarah's confusion returned as she watched him lace his hands behind his head and recline against it. "I'm getting comfortable."

Sarah's head twitched. He was laying down now, with one leg drawn up on the rock as he took in a long breath. It looked like he'd closed his eyes too. What the heck?

"Why?" she asked him, with suspicion. He did not respond.

The sound of her footsteps over gravel felt loud to her as she came nearer. Something about this sudden repose felt strange. Not to be trusted. But, against her instincts, she stood close to him anyway. She stared down at him for a moment, her eyes free to inspect what was shaping up to be fine form beneath that tunic as he continued to feign sleep. Damn her eyes —this was not the time to ogle. Especially when his behavior was so...confusing.

"So...do you come here often?" she awkwardly asked. Jareth readjusted his hands and inhaled deeply.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"To meditate."

Sarah's brow knit into a scowl, unable to discern if that had been sarcasm. He didn't look like he was toying with her. He didn't particularly sound like it either...

"You...seem tired," she said, her eyes lowering down his face and the very faint color of fatigue she could still see under his eyes.

"I am."

And now her gaze lowered away from him. So...this is why he came all the way out here? To...take a nap? Weird…

She pursed her lips and turned around, slumping to the ground as she sat against the rock at his side. He did not say anything more. Did not suggest she head on back, nor welcome her to join him. The silence that then followed sent her to sea. She wasn't quite sure...what to do with herself.

"Jareth?" she asked after a few minutes. Once again, he did not respond. She kept on talking anyway. "Why do the maids avoid you?"

A few seconds passed. As Sarah waited for a reply, she wondered if he'd actually fallen asleep.

"...Because they know better."

Her feet shifted in the dirt as she drew her knees close to her chest. Her gaze turned hollow as she pondered his response, and she stared outward at nothing as a very odd feeling slowly crept over her.

Her fingers tightened over her knees as she hugged them.

"Should...I avoid you?"

There was another silence. She imagined him giving her that slow blink before he replied,

"Yes."

Sarah frowned. That word was a wall. One that she couldn't mount. She didn't get it. She didn't understand all this mystery.

"Why?" she asked. She waited a beat just like before, but this time the silence kept stretching. She thought maybe he was ignoring her, and turned around to confront him. "Jareth?"

She leaned up to stare at him, blinking repeatedly only to find him completely unresponsive. His breathing was very shallow, and his head had turned a little to one side. So he's sleeping now, huh? and her curious eyes moved down his front. Guess...he was actually tired after all…

She shifted to sit on her knees and leaned in close to his face. He did not react, which of course only egged her on. He reminded her of a sleeping lion, though a part of her could not help but be tempted by that sense of danger. Her eyes moved from his face to what she could see of his hands. The way he'd grabbed hold of her arm earlier was admittedly jolting, but now he seemed so gentle. The way he'd helped her along through the brush was considerate. Fickle, she reminded herself. Hm, but not wicked...not cruel...or evil... She tilted her head slowly to one side, and she vacantly regarded the shape of his lips as she thought, I just don't get it. You really don't...seem so bad to me...

---

His mind was blank. The pressure there was gone. The void behind his eyelids was still dark but now weightless. Jareth sighed in relief.

The first thing that came back were the sounds of birds —a twitter, an echo. It was familiar. Pleasant. Calm.

He inhaled through his nose and slowly opened his eyes. The leaves above were the same as before, gently rustling under a faint breeze. He laid there and stared up at them, half-comatosed as he tried to savor the ease this moment brought him for as long as it would last.

"Oh. Thank you."

Jareth's brow twitched. What the hell? He sat up and looked around, wondering why the fuck he'd just heard a woman's voice. And then it caught up with him. And then he saw her out of the corner of his eye.

Oh. Right. She followed him here…

But —wait —who the hell was she talking to?

He sat up completely and shifted in his spot on the rock. He'd caught a glimpse of the top of her head from his peripheral, and located her sitting on the ground close to his side. His eyes narrowed on her in scrutiny, and then she turned around.

She must have heard him moving, but still her brow lifted in surprise. It was an expression which must have mirrored his own as he eyed the crown of yellow flowers she now wore on her head, and then the overflowing pile littering her lap. He did not have time to ponder these things, however. No, he was struck little more than dumb. The world became strangely brighter when she looked up at him, and that moment of calm he'd always found so fleeting lasted just a little bit longer when she locked onto his gaze and smiled.

"Oh. You're finally awake. Morning, sleepy head."

She gave him a sweet little laugh that matched her even sweeter expression. Jareth's brow furrowed tightly.

"You're still here," he said, flatly. Sarah wasn't sure if that was supposed to be a question.

"Um...yes?" she replied, then turned back around. "Seemed kind of pointless to try and find my way back on my own. I'd probably just get lost. And besides…" Her attention fell to her lap where her fingers fiddled with a blossom. Jareth's curiously followed. "I'd rather sit here with your empty vessel than be alone in that castle, so…"

"My empty vessel?" he repeated. Sarah set her flowers down, and, from her profile, he caught the flicker of a grin that sparked the corner of her mouth.

"Yeah, basically," she said with a chuckle. "You were really down for the count. I don't think an avalanche could have woken you."

She said that far too casually for his liking. Jareth felt a scowl forming.

"How long has it been?" he asked.

"Ah...I don't know. A few hours? I have no idea, really," Sarah replied, then turned back around to face him. She surprised him by sitting up on her knees and leaning in. "Hm, your eyes look a little better," she said with a tilt of the head. "You must have really needed that nap. How do you feel?"

Jareth was silent. Suspicious. No one ever looked at him so brazenly. He stared intently at her, but his bothered expression did not seem to have any affect on her. He caught a whiff of the flowers in her hair, which caused his attention to flicker from them, to the expectant look in her eye, and back again. How was he feeling?

"...improved."

"Good," Sarah said, and turned back around. She plopped down in her original spot and went back to work. Jareth, vaguely wondering if this was not some kind of dream, moved to sit at the edge of the boulder and watched her carefully.

"What...are you doing?"

"Hm?" Sarah blinked and peered back. "Making daisy chains," she said and held one up. "See? It seemed a good way to pass the time."

Jareth's brow tightened once more (if it had previously relaxed to begin with), and his eyes reflexively darted from the rope of flowers in her lap to the bushes rimming the area.

"You picked the flowers?"

Sarah paused. There was something heavy in that question. She set down her string and slowly turned around to face him.

"Ah...a couple? Why? Was I not supposed to?"

She watched one of Jareth's brows twitch as he glanced down to her lap again.

"There are more than a couple of flowers about you."

"Yeah...I didn't pick them though," she said, peering to the side as she shrugged. "The nymphs gave them to me."

Jareth blinked.

"What?"

---

When it became clear that Jareth had no intention of entertaining her any longer, Sarah forced herself to cease her meddling and find another means of spending her time. She was basically alone now...somewhere deep in an enchanted forest where the creatures were invisible and no one who might care had any idea where she had gone. Hm. Jareth would actually wake up if something bad happened, right? If she started to scream? The Queen's ring kept her safe from magical attacks, supposedly. But, as she just now realized, that meant absolutely nothing when it came to physical attacks…

Oh well. She'd be fine. Just don't go around eating anything, she told herself.

She'd walked around the pond and the petrified nymphs. For every one she inspected, she discovered two more concealed within foliage or rock. They were so curious. So cute and pretty. She was finding it difficult to wrap her head around the fact that they were, effectively, dead bodies.

As she acclimated to the environment, she was able to tell apart the mischief of the nymphs from the natural sounds of the forest. A few of them had taken to tossing up the end of her skirt, like a little breeze, and she thought one had even tugged on her hair. Initially she wondered just how mischievous these creatures would become without Jareth's watchful eye on them, but for the most part they left her be.

In her exploring, she noticed beds of flowers surrounding the area. They had yellow blooms with bright, pink stamen. They reminded her of over-sized buttercups. They even had that same little glow about them.

Without thinking, she picked a couple. They had a very faint scent, which she was distracted by when a sudden jostling of the bush beside her sent her jumping back.

She stood tensed as she stared at the bush. That nymph had startled her, but was it on purpose? She started looking around then, growing wary when the whole perimeter of underbrush began to fidget. They seemed to be moving towards her. Uh-oh.

She licked her lips as she pondered what to do, replaying that whole touch nothing but the lamp spiel in her head. As the branches above her began to shake and snap, an idea sprang to mind.

She took the flowers and spun them together, curling their stems into a little ring which she then placed on the finger of a nearby, deceased nymph. As she pulled away from it, she noticed the rustling stop.

"I'm sorry," she said, then took a step back and looked all around her immediate vicinity. "Is that better?"

It was silent. Loudly silent. Goodness, this was kind of scary. Would they pounce? Would they eat her? Would Jareth just keep on sleeping like goddamn Snow White all the while?

The silence stretched. The trees and everything else were still. Sarah held her hands up tentatively and took another step back. Then, curiously, flowers began to pluck themselves from the ground.

She watched as they floated to her, slowly spinning like little gyros. Then, like in a dance, they moved in a circular motion around her. Sarah turned around in a tiny circle, then carefully picked one from the air.

"Um...thank you?" she said, but that wasn't enough. The flowers twirling around her bounced with rhythm, like they were imploring her to take more.

Sarah licked her lips and accepted each flower that passed by.

She wasn't sure what to do with them, so she started making more rings. A couple dozen or so. When each was finished, she offered it to the air and watched as it was gently taken from her grasp. The little things spun faster as they floated away, then popped like bubbles in a poof of petals and pollen.

Sarah laughed at this, realizing (after the fifth one or so) that they were playing a game. She took up the flowers she had left and went to get comfortable back in her spot beside Jareth. Just as she sat down, a small mountain of flowers rained into her lap.

---

Sarah roamed her eyes from left to right as she recounted this tale to Jareth.

"So...They've seemed pleased. I figured it was okay if they were giving them to me. Was I wrong?"

She peered back with an inconcealable wince. The way Jareth was regarding her was indiscernible. The leather of his gloves crinkled as his hand drew into a fist while readjusting his posture on the stone. He leaned forward and planted his feet firmly on the ground beside her.

"This is a hallowed place," he said, breaking his stare on her to cautiously look around the area. "Picking those flowers was a show of disrespect. Quick thinking aside, you're lucky they did not attack you."

He was looking a little skeptical, like perhaps they were still in danger of such a fate. Sarah found his belated sense of concern a little ironic.

"Apparently. God knows you wouldn't have been able to save me," she said with a twinge of sarcasm. Jareth's attention went back to her just as she huffed and looked away.

"You should show more caution," he warned her. "You're defenseless. This is a dangerous place."

"And yet you didn't think to warn me of this before passing out and abandoning me here?" she turned around and asked with a snap. She had a sassy little smirk on her face and one of her brows arched arrogantly. "You said it yourself, didn't you? I gave up my right to concern when I followed you? Good thing I'm not your responsibility," she went on, shaking her head as she turned around and went back to lacing flowers. "Thank you for the retroactive warning, Jareth, but clearly I've handled myself just fine."

She did not sound ornery, but the slight aggression shown in the way she handled the flowers spoke otherwise. Jareth's eyes lowered over her once more. He could see her profile a little better now, and he remarked to himself that the pink in the flowers was a near perfect match for that of her lips...

"They've taken a liking to you," he said with distraction. Sarah shrugged.

"Well yeah. I've been making them toys."

"Toys?"

He drew back when she stood to her feet, holding loops of flowers in her hands as she took a half step away from him.

"Yeah. Here, watch this. It's pretty cool," she said and looked outward at nothing. "You all ready?" she called out, then, without any further preamble, tossed the entire bundle up into the air. The cord untangled and was caught by nymphs on the wind as they carried it away. The rope spiraled through the air like it was alive, moving in serpentine loops that expanded its form until it occupied a twenty foot volume. Sarah, acting like this was a sight so familiar to her, angled back to Jareth with a wide grin. "Isn't that amazing?" she asked. Jareth stared. "It only lasts about a minute though. I think they get too excited and end up tearing it apart." She looked away from him and back at the chain as she spoke, then her brow lifted high when a little spot in it went poof. "Whoop. See?" she said, pointing at the spot where petals fluttered. And now there were two chains dancing.

Jareth was...bewildered. He could only sit there silently as he watched her giggle and interact with creatures which, normally, did their very best to conceal their presence from everything. It was just like before —the way she was able to connect with his world like it was something that had always belonged to her.

He was daydreaming, though he'd later blame it on the fatigue. Regardless, it left him unguarded when she turned towards him and picked something up off the ground.

"Here, I made one for you too," she said, and he blinked back to attention when he noticed how close she'd come. She was standing. He was still sitting. He was at the level of her chest when he looked up to her face. Her arms went around either side of his head as she draped a ring of flowers around his neck.

The flowers smelled good. She smelled better.

"There. Lovely," Sarah said, trying not to laugh as she watched him glance down and sneer. When he looked up at her again it was with a sharply angled brow. Sarah pursed her lips while placing her hands on her hips. "Don't you look pretty." Her amusement broke through as a teeny curl at the corner of her mouth. It was enough to make Jareth draw back from her. He looked annoyed. She was glad. "I hope you won't immediately tear this up," she said, with a wry inflection. Jareth, on the verge of doing just that, paused as he gave her his attention. "This is your punishment —it's what you get for leaving helpless little me to my own devices in an enchanted forest."

The pause endured. Now it was joined by a little tick in his expression. That felt like a challenge somehow. Like it would be more demeaning not to concede.

Jareth's hand slowly lowered back to the rock. Well, best not to disappoint the girl…

His eyes lowered briefly as well, and then he forgot about the matter entirely as a look of confusion twisted his face. What the—

"Did...you tie my shirt?" he asked.

Sarah's face flared a beet red for one single second before whipping around in a panic.

"Oh. So you noticed that, huh?" she asked with a nervous smile. When she was semi-composed, she turned back around to find him plucking at the laces. "Sorry. You were, uh...you were looking a little chilly."

Jareth either ignored or did not notice her queer anxiety as he dismissed the issue and stood from the stone. Sarah watched him with lingering fluster as he walked over and picked up his jacket.

"Anyway...now what?"

Jareth shook the fallen leaves from his coat and cape and put them back on.

"Now we head back," he said and glanced upward. "It's nearing evening, and this is a place you do not want to be wandering around in after dark." A few wayward petals drifted his way; he raised a hand to shoo them off as he took a step towards the path that brought them there. As he walked away, Sarah realized he was not going to wait for her, and scuttled forward to join him.

He entered the forest by stepping over a vine. This brought back memories of earlier inconveniences, which gave him pause. He glanced back over his shoulder to find her staring at her toes —mindfully holding up the skirt of her dress as she stepped over the same vine. Jareth grinned.

Sarah looked up just in time to avoid bumping into him, her look of focus shifting to surprise when she saw he was offering her his hand.

He didn't say anything —lest he dignify the situation in any way. No, he only gave her a very bored quirk of a brow as he waited. Sarah stared at him and the floral necklace he still wore, and bit on a grin. Oh, how polite, she inwardly teased. Such a man, indeed.

She released one end of her skirt and clasped his hand instead.

Without a word, Jareth guided her forward to his side where she comfortably laced her arm with his. A few minutes passed before she spoke up again.

"So...why were you so tired?" she asked, distracted by a log she had to take a high step over. "Did you stay up too late?"

"Yes."

Sarah glanced up curiously.

"Doing what?"

He did not respond right away, though she saw his brow tense a little.

"...working."

"On?"

She pouted when this time he did not respond at all, stoically keeping his eyes straight ahead. She pursed her lips and squeezed his arm as she turned away.

"Fine. Keep your secrets. I bet it's something boring anyway." She angled her nose upward and glared at a tree, trying to sound haughty rather than petulant. Jareth regarded this reaction of hers from the corner of his eye, finding the whole display to be rather entertaining.

His arm flexed around hers, urging for her to look back at him.

"Reverse psychology," he started, turning and angling his head down at her as he spoke. "—or an attempt as weak as that, at least, will not work on me. But good try." He gave her a wink and a halfcocked grin, which was more than enough to send her glaring away again.

She subconsciously jerked herself away from him as she did this. He consciously jerked her back.

"You think you're a real tough cookie, don't you?" she asked, with a sudden edge. Jareth arched a brow.

"Excuse me?"

"I think you should show a little gratitude," she went on, averting her eyes and carrying herself a little taller as she glanced away. "I could have done all sorts of humiliating things to you while you were unconscious, and you wouldn't have noticed a thing."

She sounded very arrogant as she said that, a little coy, and entirely too tempting. Jareth fought against the urge to provoke her.

"Really? What makes you so confident?"

He didn't anticipate the cunning he saw when she turned her head up at him, the knowing arch in her brow, or the naughty curl on her lips. Her eyes flickered boldly down his front and then back up again.

"You didn't notice all the messing around I did with your clothes, did you?"

Oh, such daring. Oh, how that look alone ignited something wholly unwelcome within him. The bow of her lips showed him endless possibilities, coercions carried by a voice in the back of his head which he viscerally ignored.

The shadow around his eyes may have darkened a little just then, but she didn't notice.

"For all you know, maybe I did do some things," she carried on, shrugging and looking away in nonchalance. "—Some wicked, nasty things to your unsuspecting body in that hallowed place. Maybe the nymphs even joined in."

Jareth laughed. She didn't expect it, so turned back to look at him without her bravado. He was smiling widely, the sound lingering deep in his chest. She liked that sound, she determined. And she liked that expression. A lot.

"I do hope you're bluffing, little one," he said, and turned that grin down at her. "Otherwise it would be within my full right to seek retribution. Although…" and his eyes dropped down her torso in an overtly lewd manner. "...something tells me your body would be fully suspecting."

Oh no. Now she'd done it. He was being flirty again. Giving her that look that seemed to have a direct line to her girlish panic. She felt a blush coming on, and turned her widened eyes away.

"You better watch yourself, Goblin King," she said very sternly. "You're speaking to a damsel here, remember?"

---

Lochlan ruffled the dust from his hair as he reentered the castle. He'd been in the city's outskirts aiding Dermot for most of the day, but the fading daylight was his call to rest. Dinner would be served soon. He should probably check on Sarah too…

He was alone as he walked the grand halls of the lowest level. Though this area was abandoned, it was always very pleasant. It faced the north side of the island, and had magnificently tall windows —they always caught the best array of light no matter the time, and gave it all a very pretty ambiance.

He was about to turn a corner when he caught sight of Merek and a sentinel looking conspicuous a ways ahead. He changed course and greeted him.

"Captain? Everything alright?" he asked.

Merek looked over reflexively, so did not have time to smooth away the troubled look from his face.

"Yes...so it seems."

"What do you mean?" Lochlan asked, then looked to the side. Merek had been staring out a doorway leading to a courtyard, the threshold of which being where the sentinel currently stood. Lochlan's eyes quickly scanned the area, though nothing stood out to him.

"The Mistress…" Merek said, then bit on his cheek as he warred with a thought. Lochlan looked back at him curiously.

"What about her? Is she alright?"

Merek nodded but lifted his arm to scratch at the back of his head.

"Yes. Supposedly."

"Supposedly?" Lochlan repeated, then glanced outside once more. "Where is she?"

Merek sighed and gestured at the forest.

"Out there, I guess," he said with a tense laugh. Lochlan was starting to get a little worried.

"Alone?" he asked. Merek shook his head.

"No. The sentinels say she's with him."

Merek's tone made that reveal sound like a heavy one, but the way Lochlan's face livened up in reaction to it was not what he was expecting.

"Oh?" Lochlan asked with a very perky upturn. Merek looked over at him, confused by the smile he now saw.

"Yes."

"For how long?"

And now he sounded excited. What? Merek watched as Lochlan scoured the treeline across from them once again, but this time with fervor.

"...Several hours now."

"What? Really?"

Lochlan drew back with a wide look of surprise. It was the complete opposite of Merek's terse brow.

"Indeed," he said, then glanced over at the sentinel. "I've been...conflicted. What would you recommend in this instance?"

Lochlan placed a hand on his hip and shrugged.

"Recommend? Nothing," he said, and looked over at Merek. "None of the wards have been triggered, have they?"

Merek shook his head.

"No."

"And the sentinels still have an eye on them?"

"Well...not exactly," Merek answered with a wince, then gestured back at the forest. "That's why I've been conflicted. They know their general vicinity, but...you know how he gets."

Lochlan pinched his chin and hummed.

"Yes...I forgot about that. Hm."

He took a moment to ponder, staring into the trees as an index finger mindlessly tapped on his hip. Beyond this display, he did not look particularly concerned. Merek didn't quite understand.

"So? What would you have me do?" Merek asked again. Lochlan clicked the back of his teeth and, after another moment of deliberation, turned to him with a verdict.

"As I said: nothing."

Contrary to Lochlan's ease, Merek was now scowling very intently.

"Really? Are you sure that's wise? I know you told me to keep a distance with her, but I have no idea what they're doing—"

"And neither is it any of our business," Lochlan interjected. "Outside of protecting her, of course."

"You're asking me to look out for her without looking. I'm just a little confused on how you propose I go about doing that."

"That's why we have sentinels, isn't it? Is it not enough to rely on their judgement?"

Merek sighed roughly through his nose and looked away.

"I suppose. I just...can't help but worry. She has no defenses at all. What if he—"

"If such a thing happens, the both of us will know of it immediately," Lochlan stated. Merek was quiet. Picking up on the Captain's uncertainty, Lochlan lulled the tone of his voice to something a bit more serious. "—And both of us will be there to help her. Yes?" He quirked a brow when they crossed gazes, but Merek was yet to be fully convinced. "It's no different from usual, Merek. I understand your lack of experience with humans, but I don't want anyone scaring her off unnecessarily. Is that understood? She's to be his wife, remember?"

There was reluctance, but Merek eventually did reply, "Yes, My Lord. I understand."

"Good. So you should be seeing this as a good thing, yes?" he asked, placing both hands on his hips. "I certainly do. It's day two and they're already on their first date." The chipper upturn was back in Lochlan's voice. Merek stood a little stiffly as he tried to invoke some of it.

"Right…I suppose...I just didn't realize they were meant to have any actual relationship."

Lochlan arched a brow.

"That's odd. You sounded very supportive of it at dinner."

Merek peered over shrewdly.

"I was being polite," he said, then glanced away again. "I thought you were joking when you said the King was sending a human. And, like you said, I didn't want to scare her off like everyone else at that table was doing. Forgive my impudence, but...this entire thing screams of farce."

There was a moment of pause after that. It was just long enough for Merek to peer over again. Lochlan was staring out at the treeline. His expression was steel.

"It's not," he said, then turned a sharpened side eye in Merek's direction. "Her humanity has no bearing on anything. And, actually, it is my hope that she will succeed where we have all failed. I think...she could be very good for him. So please, have a little faith. Hm?"

Merek held Lochlan's stare and dissected it for all it was worth. He was still skeptical, but—

"Well, if such words are coming from you, I guess I have no choice but to accept them."

"That's the spirit," Lochlan said and suddenly slapped him heartily across the back —and, just like that, his original sense of cheer returned. Merek sighed. He didn't expect Lochlan, of all people, to be taking this so nonchalantly. He was usually very preemptive when it came to the Prince. But...he was the boss. Hopefully he knew what he was doing… "Oh —and would you look at that," Lochlan said, slowly lowering his arm to his side and distracting Merek from his brooding. He followed Lochlan's gaze as it fixed on something in the courtyard, and together they spied on the couple in question exiting the forest —arm in arm. "Your vigilance is about to pay off," Lochlan continued, then took a tiny step to the side. "I admit, I'm feeling a little giddy now. Shall we tempt fate and have ourselves a gander?"

---

Sarah looked upwards as she and Jareth exited the forest. The sun was just starting to sink behind a range of hills far to the left of them, so she surmised it was getting close to dinner. Perfect, she thought. She'd skipped out on lunch and was fucking starving. She gripped Jareth's arm as she peered over and bumped shoulders with him.

"Look at that, we made it," she said. Jareth cocked a brow.

"Did you doubt we would?"

"No," she said and glanced away. "I'm just…finding mediocre things very exciting for some reason. I think...I'm a little high strung from all that relaxing."

Her head darted over at the sound of his laughter.

"You don't say?" Jareth said, glancing down at her with a halfcocked grin. She'd been making a fuss out of the stupidest things the whole way back, so his subtext was not lost on her. Sarah stuck out her tongue at him. "Although, that does sound a bit counterintuitive."

She looked away with a shrug.

"I know. I guess...I'm just used to life moving at a faster pace. All this tranquility, lack of a schedule or deadlines or whatever, it's kind of...making me feel a little restless." She tried her best to explain herself without sounding neurotic. She would never call herself a social butterfly, but even humdrum-she had shit to do: work, school, family, a friend or two. She'd never before realized just how much attention her meager little life consumed. And then there was technology. God, how she missed technology.

Jareth's expression softened as he regarded the troubled pout on her lips.

"You'll get used to it."

"I hope so," Sarah replied, then tilted her head. "It is nice getting to sleep in..." She looked ahead and saw the door to the castle was now open, waiting just for them it seemed. They were only thirty or so yards away from it —she was very aware of that for some reason. Sarah stopped walking and turned towards him. "So, what's next on the docket?" she asked. She let go of his arm as he angled towards her. Now that they were no longer moving, the intimate contact seemed...unnecessary. She clasped her hands together instead. "It looks kind of late. Do you maybe...want to get dinner or something?"

She shrugged like it was no big deal, but on the inside she was screaming. What the fuck. Again? Why the hell was she being so pushy? Why was she so incapable of being the aloof one? She would kick herself if she could get away with it. Strong, independent, hard-to-get woman —her ass!

A second or two, maybe more, passed before he responded. He was peering over at the castle. His lack of attention was making her feel awkward. Geez. She didn't realize this was a life or death request. It'd be down right humiliating if he said—

"...No."

Sarah's brow twitched as a tiny jolt of anxiety struck her straight in the gut. Wha? So bluntly? Seriously?

Jareth tore his gaze away from the castle and looked down at her. There was some tension on his brow, but he did look at least somewhat sympathetic.

"My respite...was longer than intended," he explained. "Now I have some things to catch up on."

Despite the surprising strength of her disappointment, Sarah tried her best not to make her next reaction too transparent.

"Oh. Okay," she said, then forced a happy grin. "Raincheck?"

Jareth stared at her in confusion.

"I don't know that term."

"Oh. It means: maybe next time...?" she elaborated, darting her eyes to the side like this wasn't the most awkward fucking moment of her life. Was he really rejecting her right now? After the POSITIVELY PLEASANT afternoon she'd provided for him? Fucking enigma…

Jareth felt his teeth grinding as he watched her try to prevent a myriad of reactions from reaching the surface. He was, however, more perceptive than she realized. Perturbation was something he was far too familiar with, especially when it showed so readily through the knit in her brow and the tension in her, now crossed, arms. He found himself resenting the sympathy he felt towards her, though knew it was probably for the best.

He'd picked up on Lochlan and Merek's presence almost immediately after exiting the forest. Those two idiots were probably within earshot. He could not see them, but knew they had yet to move away. He and Sarah were being watched and, while deep down he knew he should be grateful for the deflection, presently he wanted to rip their fucking heads off.

He watched the way she took a small step away from him as she waited for his response. Watched her avert her eyes from him and avoid the inevitable embarrassment she expected to receive. Watching her lessened the pressure he felt building in the back of his head. Watching her frown made him do the same. He ignored their voyeurs, and held on to this moment instead.

"...sure," he said, holding onto her stare when she impulsively looked up.

Sarah's arms tightened. She wasn't used to feeling insecure like this. She also wasn't used to putting herself out there. Was this how dudes felt trying to ask women out? Wow. She suddenly felt kind of bad for all those frat guys she'd snidely turned down…

When she'd looked up at Jareth, she found his expression was thoroughly unreadable. Was he...just humoring her? Did he mean it? Should she give in to the anxiety by getting defensive and snapping that she didn't want his pity?!

All she knew for sure was that the way the tone of his voice had lowered made her feel extremely awkward.

"Cool," she said, taking a side step before glancing over at the castle. When once she felt too close, now she felt so far away. "So um, are you going back inside the castle?" Jareth responded with the quirk of a brow. "I just...don't have any idea how to get back to my room. Since you're so good at it, could you maybe...escort me there too?"

Sarah groaned internally. Jesus. At this rate, she might as well start carrying around her own shovel. But —no. No, the figurative hole she was presently sinking in was doing just fine digging itself. Hopefully it would swallow her up before she could make an even bigger ass out of herself.

She was distracted by her own stupid behavior, so actually twitched when she heard Jareth respond.

"I...can't."

Sarah angled back guardedly. She may have been projecting, but he looked a little frustrated all of the sudden. His eyes darted towards the door very briefly, then locked on hers.

"Oh? …why not?"

"I don't know where your room is."

Sarah drew back. Well, that was definitely not what she was expecting.

"You don't? Why?" she asked. Jareth's brow furrowed tighter.

"Why would I?"

He looked confused. Sarah now did as well. She glanced around herself conspicuously as she replied, "Be-because we're engaged? Because this is your castle? Because you're supposed to be Mr. Bigshot Goblin King?"

"And?" Jareth asked. "What does that have to do with it?"

Sarah stared. He was deadpan. A figurative dot dot dot was carried on the silence that spread between them. Sarah looked away again, smiling and laughing in spite of herself.

"Ah...nothing, I guess?" she said, then scratched the back of her head dubiously. Wow. At least he's straight forward... She turned towards the castle and waved a flippant hand back in his direction. "Nevermind then….I'll just ask a guard." Then she started on her walk of shame without him. "Good luck on your work. I'll...see you around. ...presumably."

She tossed her hand up one more time in a haphazard wave while shaking her head. She had no idea what the hell was happening, but was glad she was finally walking away from it. She did not turn back after that, arguing with her own thoughts as she aimlessly reentered the castle.

---

Jareth waited until she was well out of sight before following. He crossed into the hall and stopped, listening intently for the sound of her footsteps to lead her farther and farther into ignorance. After a moment, he glanced to the side —and then his lip snarled.

"You can come out now," he said, then peered in the opposite direction. "The both of you."

A second passed, and then two conspicuous fae stepped out of the shadows.

Lochlan sighed dramatically and placed a hand on his hip.

"Well that was very cold of you. There was no reason to brush her off like that."

Jareth turned his head towards him with a cutting look.

"Is there something you need?"

Lochlan's brow lifted in a look of innocence, and he shrugged.

"Hm? Me? No."

"And you, Captain?" Jareth asked, turning to his right to confront him next. His glare flickered over the man up and down, then he arched a menacing brow. "You look a little pale."

Merek, in a show of confidence, arched a brow right back.

"I'm fine, Your Highness."

Jareth huffed as a sneer creased his face. Feign all he may, but a soldier as green as Merek would never fool him. Poor thing —trying with all his might not to quake in his boots from the mere proximity they shared. It was disappointing, really. He was a pitiful replacement for Fostad.

"Was the show to your satisfaction then?" he asked, forgoing the temptation to toy with the lad and instead slanted his eyes away. He could feel the heat building again. He ignored it.

"Show?" Merek repeated.

"You were watching, yes?" Jareth asked him, taking a step forward and then turning around to speak to them both. "...hiding here so stupidly," he added, his expression hardening as he looked from one to the other.

"Oh come now. It was not our intention to spy," Lochlan said, without a shred of situational awareness. Merek's attention shot over at him. "We were simply walking by and saw the two of you exiting the forest. You can hardly blame us for being curious."

Lochlan carried himself in that jaunty way of his, inclining his head toward Jareth like he was a child to be patronized. Oh, how he hated that.

"Curious. Uh huh..."

"Alright. I was concerned," Merek interrupted, feeling uneasy with the way Jareth was regarding Lochlan. Jareth took his time in looking over at him. "Although, it was clearly unjustified. You both look perfectly well. I apologize, Your Highness," he said, then bowed in deference. Jareth arched a brow.

"Is that all, then?"

Merek straightened but wasn't sure how to respond. He'd interacted with the Prince only a handful of times, and loathed to admit he still struggled with how to carry himself. Thankfully, Lochlan was not as careless as he seemed.

"Yes. I believe it is," he said, breaking the tension between Jareth and Merek. Both of them looked over. "Thank you, Captain, for your due diligence. You may be dismissed." He smiled and lowered his head. Merek hesitated, glancing between the two in indecision. After a moment, however, he nodded as well.

"Of course," he said, then bowed again. "Your Highness. My Lord." He spared Jareth one final glance before leaving, sizing him up it would seem. Jareth tried not to laugh.

Lochlan waited until Merek was gone before speaking.

"You know, for a prince, you can be a real boor sometimes."

Jareth turned around sharply in reaction to Lochlan's gall. Of course, he was grinning —giving him that canny, narrowed eye that Jareth could only curl his lip at.

"Please don't glare like that. He was in the right. You were alone together for several hours. You can't blame him for being worried about her."

His tone was placating but only marginally effective. Jareth held his stare for a moment longer and then turned away from him.

"I never said I did."

"Your expression says otherwise," Lochlan said, and stepped around to face him once more. "What were you two doing out there?"

Jareth blinked very slowly. So...annoying.

"Nothing," he said. Lochlan quirked a brow.

"Nothing?"

And now Jareth was glaring again. Now the look was heated and impatient. His jaw tensed as he said, once more, "Nothing."

Lochlan, unphased by his trite display, shrugged and turned away from him.

"Hm. Perhaps you picked up with whatever it was that you won't tell me happened yesterday?" he asked, then glanced back with an impish grin. "She looked in fine spirits. You could still join her for dinner, you know."

"Why do you care?" Jareth snapped. Gods, this mood of his was grating. It was just like the previous day. The man became downright giddy when it came to his and Sarah's relationship. Heh —not even in the refuge of his mind could he string those words together without derision.

Lochlan gave him a very empathetic look.

"Why wouldn't I?" he asked. Jareth sneered.

"Tch." He looked away and shook his head incredulously. This conversation was asinine. He should just leave—

"I am surprised though," Lochlan continued. "I didn't realize you were so interested in her."

Jareth paused his musing as one brow shot up.

"You're awfully presumptuous."

"I am," Lochlan said, then steepled his hands together before gesturing towards the outdoors. "It's just so often that I see you taking long walks with anything other than your dour disposition —and I do believe I saw you smiling."

"You're annoying," Jareth said, and turned again as if to leave. "Don't get ahead of yourself, Lochlan. She followed me, so I humored her. Besides, aren't you the one who set this whole thing up? It would reflect very poorly on you should I not at least show courtesy."

He sounded agitated as he spoke, biting down on that last word as he forcibly adjusted the cuffs of his gloves. To anyone else, that tone alone may have been a warning. However, curiously, it was not. Lochlan had been closely watching all the while and, despite his numerous provocations, the markings around Jareth's eyes were still as dull as the floor tile. Interesting.

"So this is out of consideration for me, then?" Lochlan asked, seeing fit to push his luck a little further. "Is that necklace for me too?"

Jareth twitched —reflexively looking down in a clear sign that he'd forgotten all about that. Lochlan's smile widened. Was that a look of embarrassment he just saw? Oh, he was just so happy.

Jareth did not respond. Lochlan did not need him to.

"No, I thought not," he said, openly reveling in the discomfort this was surely causing. Jareth growled and stormed away. Lochlan readily followed. "Where are you going?"

"Away."

"Oh, don't be like that."

Lochlan followed him a few more paces but quickly deflated as he realized Jareth would not humor him for much longer. With a sigh, Lochlan came to a halt. "She came here of her own free will, you know," he called out. Jareth paused. "She's here because she wants to be."

His tone was dispassionate. Jareth turned and glared back at him.

"As if that matters," he said, and took a step forward.

Then he stopped.

He caught himself.

Lochlan watched Jareth's hands fist as he stood there in peculiar silence. Then, with a discernible amount of tension, he turned back and slowly lifted his gaze to lock with Lochlan's. When he spoke, the tone of his voice was lowered. Guarded.

"You did not tell her about me," he said. Lochlan frowned.

"No."

"Why?"

"That's your business."

Jareth huffed and turned back around. Lochlan caught sight of a nasty smile on his face while he did so. Jareth closed his eyes to compose himself. He took a long breath before he said, "Daring, aren't you? You've led a lamb to the slaughter —but still you have the gall to stand here before me and say she is willing?" He did not expect a response to that question, though turned back to cast Lochlan the sliver of a glare. "And here they say I am wicked."

Lochlan's frown deepened. Now he looked disappointed.

"She didn't have to stay here," he said, very calmly. "You could have told her no."

One of Jareth's eyes twitched, but the effort was not enough to repress the shadow that bloomed around it. Lochlan tilted his head curiously as he watched it happen. Jareth gritted his teeth and turned away to conceal it.

"No…" he said through a tight jaw. "I couldn't."