CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The day passed as slowly as Sarah suspected it would. She was fatigued from her 'future walking,' and also apprehensive about having to share a bed with the King. While she was slowly starting to trust the king, she was less trustful of herself.
She was currently in his library with some books Jareth had recommended for her type of magical abilities, and some that she had found independently. All of them mentioned that close contact was necessary to teach this kind of magic; to control entry and exit. Sarah briefly pondered who had taught him, until a stab of jealousy punctured her core, forcing her to stop musing on that concept.
It was just magical training and not at all an invitation for intimacy; though neither one of them could deny the high levels of closeness involved in the exercise. Sarah did not want to be in his room for the night, as it would lead to excessive gossip if exposed, but having Jareth in her bed-chamber felt like an invasion of her privacy. Jareth had left the choice up to her.
Sarah had also used the time alone to read over the three choices they had offered her. She was no closer to making a decision. But at least she now only had three not five options. She only allowed a small amount of regret over the two she had refused.
Sarah spent breakfast and lunch in her own company, but dinner she ventured to spend with the two brothers.
"Had any more thought upon your choice?" Sevlydi asked as soon as they were all sitting. Sarah shoved a mouthful of lamb in her mouth, gravy dripping down her chin. She was hungry after all her research and meagre lunch. She graced him with one flash of her green eyes before hungrily shovelling more food into her mouth.
"Hungry?" Jareth asked with his trademark smirk and a raised eyebrow.
"Ravenous," Sarah said between mouthfuls.
"Have you been up to some strenuous activities today?" Sevlydi said, looking between the King and Queen.
"Because I would remind you that only one out of the three choices you have left, will allow you to continue any fornication without scandal," Sevlydi continued in all seriousness.
Jareth canted his head and grinned wider. Sarah nearly choked on her mouthful. Did he think they were sleeping together just like that? Surely he could understand her desire to have some self-worth, though the lines between quiet dignity and overt pride were getting more and more blurred. As were the lines between loathing and desire, she thought sourly, as she cast a look over Jareth lounging back in his chair as if he owned the place, because of course, he did.
"Really?" Sarah asked in a tone that would have made Karen proud. "At the dinner table of all places?"
"Even by human standards you are quite the prude," Sevlydi shrugged. Sarah wasn't a prig. She had quite a healthy sexual appetite, but when it came to Jareth, though the desire was there, she didn't want to give him that satisfaction. Pride put up barriers to even her own gratification. She ripped off a chunk of bread with her teeth, as Sevlydi continued, "but you're also the one displaying atrocious table manners."
"Sev, that will do," Jareth scolded, his voice still laced with humour.
Sarah wiped her chin with a napkin while she glared daggers at Sevlydi. The rest of dinner passed quietly. Sarah ate with less gusto and then excused herself for a late-night walk along the battlements.
It was usually tranquil along the parapet, compared to other parts of the castle. Sentry guards occasionally meandered across her path, but they were not as underfoot as they were inside. The last time she had been here was when she had rescued Jareth.
As her luck would have it, Sarah was not to be alone tonight. A barn owl watched her from the ramparts as she rambled along. She picked up her pace, boots clicking on the stones, her cloak brought to life by her motion and the breeze. Sarah still dressed every part the Goblin Queen, with skintight black leggings, grey boots, a light dusky tunic, and of course the medallion. Her usual attire hadn't magically returned after Jareth's reappearance. Sarah had noticed Jareth still did not have a replacement pendant, but every time she tried to remove the original from her neck, it would not budge. She had been too distracted to ask about it.
She faced the owl, as he canted his head in acknowledgement of her approach. Sarah had toyed with the idea of ignoring him completely, but seeing the raptor hobble along the wall with only one healthy leg, softened her heart. The owl's toes and talons on his defective leg were all contracted together, even as he tried to move. He relied profoundly on the splayed foot, the clenched foot used for balance haltingly.
Sarah retracted her claws, sighing into the wind as she pulled herself up to sit next to the owl. She dug the heels of her dangling feet into the natural ledges in the stone wall, her hands gripping behind while she surveyed the view. Her hands twitched to reach out and stroke the soft feathers of her owl companion.
"It is a beautiful sight," she mused.
"It is indeed," Sarah turned to see Jareth sitting next to her in his fae form, not looking at the view, but at her.
She scoffed. "Even in the Aboveground, that line is cheesy."
"I thought you liked cheese," Jareth rubbed the top of his cane with his thumb. Sarah noticed for the first time, a silver owl carved into the head, and his crescent emblem was a motif progressing down the shaft. "You certainly ate enough of it after dinner."
Sarah laughed, briefly reminded of the easy friendship they had been heading into before the revelation of his deception.
"Are you stalling on going to bed?" Jareth asked, his brow raised.
"Before you came back, I often walked along here after dinner," Sarah's tongue probed a tooth where she was sure a piece of lamb was stuck. She missed her electric toothbrush. "Sometimes with Hoggle."
"Oh, that would have made for an enlightening promenade," his sarcasm was thick. "I am surprised you resisted the urge to jump to your death. Or push him to his."
"I am not quite so melodramatic," Sarah pouted her lips. "And Hoggle is worthy company."
"And so he is; if being bored to death by his endless prattle, is your desire," Jareth sniffed as if there was a bad smell right under his nose.
"What other options do I have?" Sarah swung her legs out, alternating between each one.
"Me."
"After your artifice-" Sarah started but couldn't continue. Exhaling out of her nose, she changed tack, "I was up here the night you returned."
Jareth sighed. "With Joggle?"
"No, with Hoggle," Sarah supplied a mutinous look. "He was very helpful in your absence."
"And so he should- " Jareth tapped his cane. "It's his job. Though he has been nothing but a hindrance to me."
"Without him, I wouldn't have had that peach," Sarah pointed out. "Without him, I wouldn't have got passed the big giant metal thing wielding the axes. I would never have been your Champion."
"Humongous," Jareth corrected. "Bad form to forget the names of your subjects, Sarah. Especially ones that you murdered."
"Ha!" Sarah exclaimed at his hypocrisy. "Maybe I should start calling you Jargle or Jarod."
"And I will kiss you every time you do," he warned.
"You wouldn't dare," Sarah replied, flippantly, knowing full well he would dare.
"Speaking of kisses, if you had not found out about Terry that night, would you have kissed me?"
Sarah flushed. "I don't work in hypotheticals, Ja-," she stopped and banged her hand down on the wall. "Look, I will say the same thing I said to your brother; you lied, you broke my trust, and I am not just going to bend over backwards to your will, just because you are persistent."
"I know," Jareth held out his hand offering peace. "I wouldn't have you any other way. I once resented your determination, but I have come to admire it, so please don't fret that I am applying any pressure to you to forgive me. I am patient."
'Patient' didn't seem to be the word that rose to the forefront of her mind when she thought about Jareth. However, he seemed very self-satisfied with his magnanimity.
"Cinderella, Aladdin, Sleeping Beauty were all once favourites of yours," he went on. "They all pretended to be someone they weren't before they found their 'true love.'"
"They were stories, and incredibly lacking in nuance," Sarah bit back. "And how do you know that anyway? Were you spying on me?"
"No," he frowned. "I saw your room briefly after you defeated - after I won you as my Champion. You held a party with my subjects."
"Oh, that," Sarah looked down at her booted toes.
"I watched you on your run, and I used my crystals to try and find you after your kidnapping," he shifted uncomfortably, running a gloved hand down his hurt leg. "I have respected your privacy, because like I have said before, I only want what you offer me freely."
"That doesn't sit well with your stealing three hours away from me, or-," Sarah argued.
"I cheated you as part of the game," he pinched the bridge of his nose. "That's not to say that I didn't enjoy tormenting you, because I very much did."
Jareth grinned at her shocked expression. "Hindsight is a powerful tool, though Sarah. I soon learnt my error in judgment when it came to you. I did so enjoy cheating the Pinnsburrs of their Stolen Pearl, however."
Jareth gave another grin, this time he reached out, patting Sarah on the arm. "If it hadn't been for you and everything that you have achieved, I would never have such a precious thing for my Queen Regent. I may have lost my kingdom by now, without you on the throne beside me."
Sarah bit her lip. "How so?"
"I know Sevlydi has told you about the pearl theory," Jareth confessed. "When I first found the pearl, I was thrilled at not having to obtain my wife. Sarah, I have never courted anyone, and never bothered to woo them. Fae and on the occasion elves, have always offered themselves to me. Every single dalliance I have ever had came to me on a silver platter."
Sarah rolled her eyes.
"You may roll your eyes," he smirked. "But its the truth. However, you have offered me a challenge, and I appreciate that all the more. I will woo you, court you if you wish, whatever it takes. Sarah, you know how precious you are to me."
"Jareth, I -," her hand instinctively went up to her medallion, reminding her of one of the things she kept meaning to talk about but never managed to. This sudden thought was the perfect segue to derail any further dialogue about their feelings. "How do I return your pendant?"
Jareth's face reflected his confusion at her abrupt change of subject. "Your choice is to remain the Queen regardless of which of the three contracts you sign."
"Yes, but this is your medallion," Sarah tugged with futility on the cord around her neck.
"Not any more," his hand went up to his throat. "I will get another one for myself in due course. When the goblins have finished fashioning it."
"I see," Sarah gazed back into the labyrinth's distance. "So I can't remove this at all?"
"You can once you accept your role," it was his turn to look out across the giant maze.
"I have accepted my role," Sarah glared at him.
"Not completely," Jareth turned back to her. "The Labyrinth still senses some dissent in you."
Sarah surreptitiously tried scraping the meat out of her teeth with the nail of her little finger. She was behaving in a very un-queen like manner today. "Yes, well."
"Sarah," Jareth passed her a toothpick, which she accepted with sulky haste. "Do you happen to know how I ended up out of my prison?"
Sarah turned to him, the toothpick hanging out of her mouth. "I think so."
"Care to enlighten me?"
"I made a wish," she muttered, removing the pick. "I made a wish, and you appeared."
"What did you wish?"
"I wished that you were back," Sarah's tongue ran over her now meat-free teeth. "I didn't want to be Queen."
"It can't be that simple, or anyone could rescue anyone with a wish," Jareth ruminated out loud. He said rescue as if it was a dirty word.
"That's what I thought too," Sarah concurred. "If it makes any difference, I was holding the pearl and- that son of a bitch."
"What?"
"Sevlydi knew, the sly thing," Sarah sucked air between her teeth. "He got me to summon you through my- the pearl yesterday. So he knew that is how I rescued you."
"He never mentioned it to me," Jareth's brows knitted.
"He was probably trying to bait me for reasons only he knew," Sarah scratched her chin in thought. "So perhaps me touching the pearl and your medallion, was enough to overpower the magic that kept you trapped."
"That is plausible," he gave a mild smile. "Sev did mention how you used the pearl to find me. And if I remember correctly, it was a full moon that night."
"It was," Sarah acknowledged. "Does that mean something?"
"Lunar magic is practised by some Underground Parties," Jareth clarified. "It has largely fallen out of favour, but with a wish, the pearl, the jewellery and the moon collectively, you may have summoned enough magic to set me free."
"Sevlydi must have worked it out then," Sarah pondered. "Interesting he didn't tell you."
"We aren't exactly bosom buddies," Jareth started rubbing a loose pebble between finger and thumb, then skipping it across the backs of his fingers. Sarah was momentarily mesmerised by his talent. "I am responsible for the forced separation between him and the man he loves."
"He took your assumed death hard," Sarah mused. "It was the most emotion I have ever seen from one of your kind. And the most genuine."
"You didn't see me when I realised you were stolen by the Pinnsburrs," Jareth muttered under his breath.
Sarah chewed the inside of her cheek, resisting any desire to quarrel. There was an element of self-blame that they were heading back into feelings territory. It was preferable to remain tight-lipped.
"How did you take it?" Jareth asked after a moment's silence. His voice was confident but tinged with the vulnerability Sarah was starting to see more and more from him.
"How did I take what?" Sarah stifled a yawn.
"My supposed death," he clarified. "I suspect you were pleased."
"What makes you say that?"
"Your villain, vanquished," he bared his teeth in a show of distaste.
"Actually I was incredibly confused about how I was supposed to feel and act," Sarah crossed her ankles, and swung them in unison. "I was conflicted."
"Conflicted in what way?"
"I felt the loss, and that would make me angry," she shook her head. "I didn't want to feel anything. Thinking you were dead, was not a victory for me."
"Did you ever shed a tear?"
The lie was out of her mouth before she could stop it. "No."
Jareth's face grew grim. "You speak an untruth. I can taste it."
"Well, you do make lying quite the art form," Sarah gave an inelegant snort. "It does not surprise me that you can sense something that you often purvey."
"Touché," he acknowledged the hit. "I will apologise every day for the rest of our lives if I have to. Hurting you was never my intent."
"And yet…"
"And yet, we chase this same dialogue in circles," he picked at the rough-hewn stone under them with the pebble. "Are you hoping for resolution?"
Sarah sighed and held her head in her hand. "I do not know."
"I am still waiting for you to unleash your ire on me, Sarah," Jareth chuckled softly. "You have made snide comments aplenty, but I have yet to see your full fury. I'm growing concerned."
"I unleashed it on your hapless brother," she laughed. "I had two weeks to process my feelings."
"And yet, you still do not know how you feel," Jareth probed.
"No," she bit her lip and looked at him. "I would like very much to have the answer, but I have been betrayed so many times in my life, I don't think-."
Sharing so much personal information with Jareth was draining. She closed her eyes as the breeze blew honeysuckle and jasmine scents up from the gardens below. Maybe it was time Jareth shared something of himself.
She opened her eyes to see his piercing mismatched eyes unwavering from her face. "Tell me then, this emotion you said you had after my second abduction by those two fae creatures, what was it?"
Jareth's mouth twitched. "Agony."
Sarah waited for Jareth to elaborate, but he turned away from her, casually straightening his gloves. She tsked and turned her attention away from him. Without detecting any movement, he was suddenly a lot closer, his breath hot on her neck as he spoke.
"It was like a piece of my heart had been ripped out of my chest and then stomped on," Jareth whispered, his breath igniting across her skin, stirring her hair most delightfully. Delicious shivers crawled across her scalp. "It was nearly the most exquisite pain that I have ever encountered, and I can count how many times I have been in pain on one hand."
He paused, his hot breath unrelenting across the nape of her neck. "It was more painful than all the torture I experienced but not quite as painful as being led to believe you were dead. That felt like ten thousand times the pain of torture because I had failed you. I vowed then I would avenge your death. I would have given you the funeral of a Queen, and I would have burned anyone to the ground that dared to make me wed someone who wasn't you."
Sarah tingled from his words. Her stomach lurched, whether, in pleasure or disgust, she couldn't determine. She focused on keeping her face neutral and detached, struggling dismally in her efforts. Sarah tried moving away from Jareth but found that his arm was leaning against the wall on her other side, effectively trapping her.
"Seeing you such a victim of abuse, put things into perspective for me," she finally said, though her throat was tight. "You asked why I haven't yelled. I may be angry and unforgiving right now, but seeing you as the victim diminished that somewhat."
Sarah coughed slightly, too tense to shift her body and make contact with the arms on either side of her. The heat radiating off him was enough contact. She could feel, rather than see his entire posture stiffen beside her.
"Do not refer to me as the victim, Sarah," his voice was deadly. Sarah visibly gulped, her planned indifference forgotten as nerves took over. Jareth may have softened his sharp edges around her, but he was still dangerous, and she was a fool to disregard it. He took both his arms away from around her. "You forget that I was replete of my magic as I tried to fight everyone else's magic. I conquered the enchantments of at least two fae, as well as my half-siblings to allow your escape. I was made- vulnerable- by that experience. Something that I would never have allowed to happen if it wasn't for ensuring your safety."
Sarah studied her boots. It irritated her that she was freed by Jareth, in the first place. She would have sooner been the bold warrior, surprising Jareth by rescuing herself, savouring the expression on his self-righteous mug.
"I do not begrudge saving you," Jareth went on, softer. "But I am not a victim."
Sarah was rapidly getting sleepy, despite the brisk night air keeping her awake. She knew she would have to face going to bed and having her training at some point soon. Having Jareth in his dark mood wasn't easing her apprehension of that fact.
"You can't go risking your life every time you fuck up," Sarah pushed off the wall, landing elegantly back on the parapet. "This isn't a chick-flick. It's a grand gesture to save my life, worthy of any heroine swooning and forgiving, but what I need is time, not flowery displays and sacrifices."
"What is a chick-flick?" he raised his brow in question. "It sounds like a game the goblins would play with baby chickens."
Sarah laughed. She couldn't help it. Sometimes his naivete of Aboveground, particularly North American culture, almost made him endearing. Almost.
"Chick-flicks are stories aimed at usually a female audience, where the male typically does some grand display to win the girl, particularly after they've fucked up," Sarah explained. "They usually portray women who are only interested in men, relationships, love and romance."
"Women here are mostly interested in power, social climbing and marrying off their offspring to get more power and social standing," Jareth observed casually.
Sarah wrinkled her nose. "There are a few chick-flicks I like, but I prefer myself a strong female protagonist who doesn't require a man to live a healthy, happy life."
Jareth smirked. "Of course."
Sarah took the chance to continue her walk along the wall, knowing it was inevitable that training would have to start soon.
"Sarah," Jareth called as she moved past him. He slid off the wall, landing heavily on his undamaged foot. "I don't like losing. I have never apologised to anyone in my life, and I have only ever done so to you. Repeatedly. I haven't been accustomed to living up to anybody's expectations as much as I have yours."
Sarah revolved around slowly to face him. "I am aware that you fight your nature a great deal to try and appeal to me."
He sighed. "As do you, fight yours."
Sarah snapped her head back with a sharp frown. "I have never tried to appeal to you."
"And yet, you still do," he took one hobbling step closer. "You don't flatter and flaunt, but you naturally still get my attention, and that says a lot about you, Sarah."
Sarah swallowed. She countered his earlier statement with, "I do not fight my nature."
Jareth chuckled. "Isn't it easier to just surrender? Your nature is to be stubborn, but denying your desires is fighting your nature."
"Surrender to what?"
"Surrender to me," he smirked. "Abandon yourself to your true feelings."
Sarah scoffed. "Are you still dying for me to tell you how attractive I find you?"
"It's a start," Jareth took one final limp to close the gap.
"I find you attractive," Sarah said bluntly and without passion. "But I also find the idea of eating ice cream by the pool in summer attractive, but I wouldn't want to be there during winter."
"But you do find me attractive," he grinned. "Now shall we go to bed?"
Sarah grimaced, offered a shrug and walked past him to go inside.
Jareth was about to have Sarah in his bed. Despite the innocent reasons, he still couldn't be more thrilled about the prospect. She refused to get ready for bed in his chambers, so he had shown her the secret tunnel system from her rooms to his. Once she had dressed and bathed, she could head through the tunnel, and no-one would be any the wiser. He smiled, pleased with his benevolence.
A slight knock on the wooden panel that hid the tunnel came swiftly. There his dark-haired vision stood, grasping her robe around herself as he opened up the door to let her in. He grinned, she scowled; business as usual. Sarah walked in with a steady gait, but Jareth could sense her nerves.
"A cup of cocoa before we begin," he gestured to the armchairs next to the fire. He watched her nod with trepidation. "It's not poisoned or laced with anything."
They both sat, sipping cautiously on the hot sweet, liquid, without talking. Jareth wished he could call the silence companionable, but Sarah was too focused on not seeming skittish and failing.
"So this is your den of iniquity," Sarah broke the tense silence.
"You've been in here before," he tilted his head at her. "You contributed vases of flowers and songs if I remember rightly."
Sarah blushed. "Not at night."
"Not while I was conscious anyway," Jareth watched the blush deepen. He grinned. He knew that she had often fallen asleep in the armchair she now sat in while he was recovering. "But no, it is only a den of iniquity, if you view sex as immoral."
Sarah conceded his point with a hastily raised brow. "I was just trying to make conversation."
"By jumping straight into a discussion on my sex life?" he leaned forward. "I am not complaining."
Sarah rolled her eyes, suppressing her grin behind her cup of cocoa. It didn't escape his notice that she was starting to relax.
"I would, however, ask you to stop insisting there is something wrong with having a healthy sex life," he lowered his cup as he searched her face. She nodded. Jareth believed her snide comments on his sexual appetite were borne more out of curiosity and perhaps jealousy than shame. It did fill him with possessiveness imagining Sarah with any other man, but only because he had been restraining himself, against his very being, for her. As much as he had unmet needs, he found he only wanted Sarah to slake them. Who she slept with in the past was inconsequential; as long as he had her future.
"I guess it is one of those differences between us," she took another cautious sip. "Humans and fae, I mean."
He hummed his acknowledgement. "I imagine it is."
Jareth enjoyed watching Sarah's form backlit by the fire, in his room and wearing her night-clothes while talking about his sex life; though there had been a deplorable lack of it of late. He felt the stirrings in his groin and instantly thought to change the subject. Not because he was ashamed of his growing desire - far from it, but he was aware of the delicate position he was in with trying to earn Sarah's trust back.
"So tonight, when you have fallen asleep, I will enter your dreams and show you how to enter the walking state," Jareth placed his empty cup down on the side table, licking his lips. "I think we will start walking in the past because as it has already happened, there is less risk to you. It's always a good place to start with beginners."
"Will you see what I see this time?" Sarah asked.
"That's a good question," he tapped his lip. "I couldn't see into your future, because you didn't invite me to see it, but the past works a little bit differently. The past has happened, so can't be changed; the future is still merely a possibility. So yes, I will see it."
He watched her bite her lip and nod slowly. "And if there was something we walked into that I didn't want you to see?"
"Then we will leave," he steepled his fingers in front of him. "I will assist you in another dream until you are confident enough to transport yourself. To start with, think of influential memories as you drift off to sleep."
"And when training is complete for the night, may I go back to my room?" Sarah asked sceptically.
Jareth was tempted to go with his nature, and utter some innuendo, but he knew things were too delicate for ribald comments. "You will be incredibly tired, but if you are cognizant enough to make it back to your apartment, then you may do so."
Sarah chewed her lip with more ferocity but nodded again. "I am trusting you to be honourable for once in your life."
"I am sure I have acted with honour at least three times in my life," he grinned at her scowl, before languidly stretching his legs. "I will not take advantage of you, Sarah. I swear on Higgle's life."
"Seriously?" Sarah threw her hands up in annoyance. "You can't even get his name right when you're swearing on his life. And on a life that means nothing to you."
"You're right," he grinned wider. He had sworn on Hoggle's life because he meant something to Sarah, not to him. He placed his hand over his groin as he continued, "I should perhaps pledge my vow on something incredibly more important than Hoggswallop. I swear on my royal jewels that nothing untoward will happen at my hand, or any others while I am training you in the art of walking."
Sarah laughed, and Jareth noticed her rosy-hued cheeks and the way her eyes had tracked down to his hand cupping his bulge. Her voice was thick as she continued to speak. "Trust you to value that part of your anatomy."
"I am at least predictable," he winked. "And you then at least know I equally would not risk any harm to my most precious body part, just as I wouldn't allow any harm to come to you."
Jareth smiled at the thought that one day she may value that body part too. He stood despite the residual erection. He leaned heavily on his cane, heading towards the bed, waving a hand to change into his night-clothes as he went. Jareth slipped into the bed, placing his cane against the bedside cabinet, and turning the sheets down for Sarah to join him. He watched through half-shuttered eyes, as she placed her cup down and stepped over to the bed with an air of confidence, that Jareth could tell, was not authentic.
She slid in, making sure no part of her body made contact his. Sarah could not be comfortable practically teetering on the edge of the mattress. He waved his hand to extinguish all the candles and dim the fire before he brought the blankets over her exposed shoulders.
"You're sleeping in your robe," he pointed out.
"Yes," Sarah's voice was muffled by the pillow under which she was practically burying herself. Jareth bit his lip between sharp canines in amusement.
"Goodnight, Sarah," Jareth lay on his back and stared up at the ceiling while he waited for her to doze off. He'd be true to his word; he wouldn't lay a finger on her until she was asleep and his touch would be required to commence training. Having her this close, was balm enough for him. It showed her level of trust in him was high, despite the way he had broken it. Or Sarah feared what she had seen when she 'walked' more than her distrust of him. Either way, he would use this to his advantage to gain her trust.
"Goodnight, Jareth," came her muted reply. He smiled. His name on her lips was more decadent than chocolate.
Eventually, her breathing evened out, and when he gained no response from whispering her name, he rolled over to face her back. Jareth placed his palm to Sarah's back, closing his eyes and urging himself to find her.
When Jareth entered Sarah's 'walking' state, he saw Sarah as she was now standing in a nursery. A screaming baby was in the cot and the room devoid of any parental figure.
"Sarah?" he approached her gently. She glanced at him with wide eyes. He frowned and looked down at the screaming baby. It had a tuft of dark hair on its head and was barely a few months old. The red, scrunched face elicited his sympathy for the little beggar. He resisted the urge to pick the wee scrap of life up and cuddle it.
The door burst open at this point, and in walked a furious dark-haired woman, holding a telephone to her chest.
"Oh, would you just stop screaming for five minutes?" snapped the lady who bore a resemblance to Sarah, but was clearly not her. "You are so dramatic. I am on an important phone call, and you will just have to wait for whatever it is that you are wailing for now."
Jareth's teeth clenched in annoyance, as he realised the screaming baby was Sarah, and this was her mother. The baby continued to wail. The mother stomped her foot in frustration and placed the phone to her ear.
"I am just going to have to let her scream it out, darling," she spoke loudly into the receiver. "Robert wanted the damn thing so desperately. He should be here attending to her persistent demands. It's not every day your agent phones to let you know about Broadway, is it?"
And with that, she shut the door and left. The baby ramped up her intensity.
"This isn't my memory," Sarah said in a meek voice.
"It is your past, but you were a baby," he shuffled over to the side of the cot. Against his better judgement, he picked up the baby Sarah and held her to his chest, rocking her gently, until she let out a big burp. "You wouldn't remember."
"How are you able to do that, if Linda couldn't even see us?" Sarah asked him, as the crying lessened.
"Babies and children are more in touch with magic than adults," Jareth explained. "Remember you are really here, but undetectable."
Baby Sarah had stopped screaming with the release of the trapped air and opened her teary green eyes to stare unreservedly into his eyes. The wee bundle hiccoughed and fussed, but was blessedly quiet.
"Why are you holding me?" Sarah asked.
"I can't let a baby scream itself hoarse, even if it is the baby version of the thorn in my side," Jareth cooed at the little babe who was now giving away toothless smiles with abandon.
"Won't this affect my future?" Sarah's frown deepened. "The books said we shouldn't interfere."
"Just so," Jareth playfully poked his tongue out at baby Sarah. "But no harm can come from one small episode of comfort, Sarah."
"This is so weird," Sarah huffed. "The Goblin King is rocking me to sleep."
He grinned, at Sarah and then the gurgling baby in his arms. "I think she is quite delighted with me."
Sarah scoffed. "She will grow up to dislike you immensely."
Jareth's grin stretched wider. "She will grow up to be the most beautifully defiant human I have ever been fortunate enough to encounter."
He gave the small baby a peck on her forehead, before lowering the now sleepy bundle into the cot. He stepped back and turned to see the adult Sarah glowering at him.
He sighed. "Your mother didn't need to wish her baby away to seek her dreams I take it."
"No, she just took them," Sarah shook her head.
"We should go," he gave one more glance at the now fast asleep Sarah and took the hand of the adult-Sarah. "Think of another memory. Try and focus on the energy inside you, as you read in the books."
He whisked them through time and space until they landed in another memory. This time they were in a kitchen. A man was reading his newspaper, while a woman was chatting animatedly on the telephone. Jareth recognised her as Linda, Sarah's mother. The man, he assumed to be Robert, her father. Sarah entered through the door dressed like a princess; dark hair braided down her back, make-up smudged around her eyes and a puffy pink dress.
"Mommy, mommy, I am a fairy princess," she chorused. Her mother didn't even bat an eye, just waved her hand in dismissal. Her father lowered his newspaper to offer a mild smile at his precocious daughter.
"The world's most beautiful fairy princess," he told her. "Off to find your knight in shining armour?"
"Yeah, I need to rescue him from the dragon, daddy," she sung. "Silly Prince keeps getting himself into trouble."
Linda chose this time to engage with her child. "Don't settle for a prince, darling. Find yourself a king. A rich one."
Adult-Sarah scoffed. Jareth smirked. "I am very wealthy, Sarah."
Linda returned to her phone conversation, and Robert, his newspaper. Child-Sarah straightened her shoulders, spun on her heel and skipped out of the room. Jareth went to follow when he saw Sarah wistfully watching her father.
"We have to follow you," he guided her away. "As hard as it is to witness our loved ones alive, you can't stay here."
Sarah nodded, tears flowing freely down her cheeks. Jareth pulled her closer towards him as they followed the child out the back door. The garden was a grass lawn lined with trees and a low fence. Multiple clusters of toys and dolls scattered across the yard, a Wendy-house sat absolute centre, with a flag hanging limply from a pole atop the roof. Jareth observed the flag was a tea towel with a fairy pattern.
"This can be the last one for tonight," he reassured her. "Walking in our memories can be- exhausting."
Once in the garden, they watched mini-Sarah frolic playfully through the long grass, singing and charging down imaginary foes.
"You practised siege tactics from a young age," Jareth chuckled, watching Sarah brandishing a long stick to try and slay the dragon-toy. When she had achieved her goal, she dragged a reluctant rag doll back towards the washing line outside the Wendy House.
"There you are fair Prince," child-Sarah threw the ragdoll down. "You are rescued."
Jareth chortled. "You were so gracious."
"Shut up," Sarah grinned back, eyes still sparkling with tears.
"You shall not marry me," young Sarah announced, grandly. "I am promised to another."
"And who is this other that you shall marry?" young Sarah squeaked in a rendition of a male voice.
"I am betrothed to the Goblin King," young Sarah declared, raising her sword in a salute.
Jareth smirked. Young Sarah brought out the red book and showed the rag doll. "He loves me and will let me continue to fight dragons as I wish."
"We can leave now," Sarah grabbed his arm to drag him away. Jareth stilled her with a look.
"Wait," he breathed.
"It isn't the place of a girl to slay dragons," young Sarah said in her false voice of the prince. "You need to stay home, and raise children and wash dishes."
"This is why I will not marry you, though I just saved you from that dragon," she reasoned, lowering her stick. "The Goblin King will wash the dishes for me."
"You got that wrong," Jareth smirked. "I do not condone the murder of innocent dragons, and I have never washed a dish in my life. That is what servants are for."
"Good thing, that young me was also wrong about me marrying you then," Sarah parried back.
Jareth tore his attention back to the girl who was now, arresting the ragdoll prince for daring to challenge her. She tied him to the washing line pole before she skipped back to a thicket at the bottom of the garden.
"Goblin King," young Sarah called, kneeling on the ground. "I am ready to marry you."
Then two things happened at once: young Sarah turned to face the two adults, her face lighting up with delight. Adult-Sarah let out a gasp and covered her mouth.
Jareth turned to her. "What is the matter?"
"She - I see you," Sarah mumbled. "And I remember seeing you."
Jareth faced the young Sarah, who laughingly sprinted towards him. "What else do you remember?"
"You disappeared before I caught up to you," Sarah ran a hand through her hair. "But I wouldn't stop talking about it for months. All my school artwork and stories featured you. Everyone said I had a fantastic imagination, but it was real."
Jareth took hold of her arm. "It's time to wake up. Take your ball of energy inside you and picture waking up in my bed."
Sarah closed her eyes and did as he instructed. Jareth turned to see young Sarah's face drop in disappointment as they disappeared from the spot.
Sarah awakened, gradually and groggily. Jareth sat upright and looked over her shoulder.
"Sarah?"
"I didn't choose that memory," Sarah responded, her throat tight; tears leaking down her cheeks.
"It isn't a precise art when you are just learning," he leaned over, resting his chin on her shoulder. "But you did get us out of there, so it was a substantial first effort."
Sarah pushed Jareth off her shoulder and rolled over to face him. "Why did I see you?"
"Your young self desired to see me, and your adult self let that happen," he wiped her tears away with his thumb. It was a simple gesture, but healing in a way she didn't expect. Their bodies were close, and his warmth was comforting. "Your magic allowed yourself to see me, and I suspect the red book had its part to play as well."
"Have I fucked up somehow?"
"No," he pushed her hair off her face, his fingers sending shivers over her scalp. "Only when you destroyed my city, defeated my game and corrupted my subjects against me."
Sarah laughed despite the tears still flowing. "Why did it choose painful memories to revisit? Ones I didn't want to show you?"
"Maybe subconsciously you wanted to show me," he suggested, again wiping away her tears. "How was that last one painful?"
"Because I didn't have many friends at that stage in my life," Sarah closed her eyes, squeezing out a few more tears in the process. "And I saw my father alive and was again ignored by my mother. And my imaginary childhood friend turned out to be my real-life villain."
Not to mention the fact she had declared her intention to marry the Goblin King. Damn that book. Sarah groaned into her hands.
Jareth chuckled deeply. She could feel the vibration run through her body. "I, for one, am glad you didn't marry that limp rag-doll prince."
"In a way, I kind of did," Sarah retorted, thinking of Mark.
In a move that surprised both of them, Jareth kissed her affectionately on the forehead. His lips were warm and dry, and Sarah found that she did not hate his advances. She made a show of pushing him away, anyway. His lips still pressed to her skin, he told her, "you don't want me to see your pain because you think I will bruise your pride."
"How insightful," Sarah mumbled, sleepily.
"Are you ready to go to bed?" his hand smoothed her hair down, and his fingers ran along the outer rim of her ear. Sarah let the shudder move through her without restraint.
"Mmm," she replied, her eyes getting heavy.
"Would you like me to carry you back to your room?" Jareth asked, bemusedly. Sarah let out an unapologetic yawn.
Sarah tried to answer but felt sleep claim her.
Sarah felt safe, secure and warm. She felt powerful arms around her waist and warm, fresh breath on her face. She opened her gritty eyes to see the sharp, elegant profile of Jareth. Sarah blinked rapidly, shifting herself back slightly, only to feel Jareth's fingers grip her closer. Still, he remained asleep. Sarah took this time to study his features without returned scrutiny.
Sarah admired his long lashes sweeping across his cheek, and the unbound strands of delicate, blonde hair that flitted over Jareth's brow, stirred by his steady breathing. The scar across his brow and cheek was still visible at this distance. She longed to run her fingers over his razor-sharp cheekbones, but common sense prevailed. She didn't know if he was asleep and suspected he was pretending. Despite how harmlessly innocuous he looked in his sleep, Sarah knew better than to poke a sleeping dragon.
As carefully as she could manage, she stretched out her body, feeling the instant clamp of Jareth's hands again as he held her tighter. His eyes flicked open, and a small smile graced his lips.
"Good morning, Precious," he whispered, his warm breath stirring her hair. Sarah suddenly became ultra-aware that if she could perceive his breath, then he probably could smell hers. She eased her hand up and clamped it over her mouth. Jareth let out a throaty laugh before he let her go with one hand and pried her hand off her mouth. He left a small kiss in the palm of her hand.
"How do you feel?" he asked, her hand still in his.
"Raw," she answered honestly. "Seeing my dad-"
"Using your magic will do that too until you get used to it," his thumb stroked her hand.
"I usually don't wish death on people, but I have to express disappointment that Meffod and Yarbro live," Sarah said bitterly. "I mean thank goodness Toby was safe, but I don't see why my parents had to die. Fuck the Pinnsburrs."
Tears leaked down the tracks left by the ones shed during the night. She hurriedly wiped them away with her free hand.
"Going back into your memories will be easier, eventually," Jareth squeezed her hand. Sarah sniffed, before taking back her hand. He tried to reclaim it, grinning his toothy smile, eyes twinkling.
"Stop, or I will breathe all over you with morning breath," Sarah struggled to release her hand. He didn't let her hand go, sharp teeth chewing his bottom lip as he watched her reaction. So Sarah sucked in as much air as she could manage and let it all out in his face.
"By the bog, woman,' he laughed waving his hand in front of his face. Sarah whisked her hand free and slid out of bed.
"Don't say I didn't warn you," she smiled mischievously back at him.
"Before you go," he sat up. "Would you like to try and contact your friend again?"
Sarah froze. Hilary. She had barely thought about her. "We tried so many times, but she is never there."
Jareth climbed out of bed, grabbing his cane and strode (as much as his busted leg could manage) towards her. His silky night-clothes glinted in the dawn light, making her think of black sand, or titanomagnetite beaches she had seen in National Geographic magazines. That was her least sinful thought at any rate.
"If she has the red book, we need to contact her," Jareth leant against the wall, crossing his arms, cane tucked under his armpit. "We can't let it fall into the wrong hands. And I can't just go and retrieve it until I see her."
"I am definitely keen to try," she grinned. "When can we try?"
"Right now if you'd like," the hitch in his gait noticeable as he ambled over to the mirror opposite his bed. Sarah followed.
"I think I should change my clothes first," Sarah blushed at the thought of Hilary thinking she had slept with Jareth. He just tutted impatiently, weaving a crystal in between his fingers.
"If you wish, but I have already started opening the portal," Jareth said, indifferently.
"Fine," Sarah shrugged, following him to the mirror, tugging the robe around her tighter. A shallow part of her wouldn't mind Hilary seeing her in a state of undress with an ethereally beautiful fae and then putting two and two together. It might stop her giving her grief over Mark.
Sarah gazed into the mirror as it rippled, and opened up into Hilary's room.
"Hilary?" Sarah called. "Hills?"
Jareth stood behind her, uneven, but still regal, scanning the items on her dresser.
"Sarah?" came a distant voice.
"Hilary, come to your mirror," Sarah called back.
"Sarah!" Hilary's face came into view. Blue hair had given way back to her natural red hair. "It's really you?"
"Yes, it is me," Sarah beamed. "Hilary, it is so good to see you."
"I was hoping you would visit me one of these days," Hilary beamed back, blue eyes shining.
"I tried," Sarah swore. "But you were never there, or the portal just wouldn't open."
"I am so glad you are ok," Hilary gushed. "That ugly dwarf thing, Higgle, told me you were safe, but it is so good to see you in the flesh."
"Hoggle," Sarah corrected.
Jareth roared with laughter. "Oh, I like her."
Hilary looked past Sarah to where Jareth was standing, arms still crossed, merriment written all over his face.
"Is that your kidnapper, Sarah?" Hilary whispered. Jareth's face lost all trace of jocularity.
"No," Sarah replied, eyeing Jareth warily. "He is just the King."
"Just?" Jareth muttered, his scowl deepening.
"Sarah," Hilary's eyes darted between the two of them. "Is there something you want to tell me?"
"Not particularly," Sarah frowned.
"Are you - " Hilary swallowed, eyeing Jareth again. "Have you finally moved on from Mark?"
"I moved on from Mark ages ago," Sarah frowned.
"I can see that," Hilary waggled her brows, suggestively.
"But not in the way you are thinking. We -" she pointed to Jareth and herself. "-Are just common and indifferent - enemies."
Jareth cleared his throat behind her. "We are also co-monarchs."
Hilary didn't seem to hear, however. "When are you coming home?"
"Hilary," Sarah paused. How to tell her that she wouldn't likely be coming home? "I can't return to my old life. And it would raise too many questions if I came back now. It would put people in an awkward situation as so much time has passed."
"I thought as much," Hilary sighed. "I miss you, Sar."
"I miss you too," Sarah bit her lip to restrain her tears.
"I have so much to tell you," Hilary chirped up. "Once I knew you were safe, I kind of went back to living my life. I got a job, etc. But I didn't stop trying to find Toby. And Sarah, I am so glad I got to speak to you. I finally found him."
"You found Toby?" Sarah rushed the mirror, tempted to jump in.
"I have his address here," she waved a scrap of paper. "I tried so many phone numbers, but I finally got hold of his aunt, and then Alastair, that guy you dated briefly before Mark, he managed to track his address. We go and watch Toby from the park outside his house now and then, and he is looking healthy, but unfortunately very miserable."
Sarah dropped to her knees in shock and euphoria. She instantly felt Jareth's arms holding her but was too ecstatic to challenge him. "You found Toby."
"Tell us his address," Jareth asked, sternly. He nodded briskly as she told him. "And the red book?"
"Oh," Hilary's face dropped. "Mark came and claimed everything back. The mirror was too heavy for him to move, but the book is now in his possession."
Jareth's look turned dark and furious while Hilary narrated the story of Mark turning up drunk at her door with paperwork, demanding Sarah's possessions back. Hilary could not disclose why he had done that; except for spite.
Sarah was shrouded in her euphoria from knowing Toby's whereabouts, that she scarcely discerned Jareth's unrest, even when he rapped his cane on the ground.
"These were the wrong hands I was worried about," Jareth said, darkly.
A/N: Ok, so there was no smut in this chapter, but there is a taste of lemon in the next. Promise.
Eeeek, they found Toby. I wonder if our Sarah will be reunited with him? And Sarah has unfinished business with Mark - pesky ex-husbands. I think Jareth hides his jealousy of her past quite well, but will he be able to keep that up? We all know he is possessive...
So yes, I pulled the only one bed trope in this trope fest. SorryNotSorry.
Thanks to all my LFFL sounding boards, and my dysfunctional family for the laughs that get me through my dark days.
Thanks too anyone who is reading this. Some of you have given me such sweet boosts to my confidence. :)