CHAPTER NINETEEN
After the mirror conversation with Hilary had finished, Jareth started pacing up and down, the cane hitting the ground with loud, purposeful clanks. He began running his fingers through his hair, shaking out a loose plait, Sarah had only just noticed he had. Sarah knelt on the hard ground, in a daze. A crooked smile on her face. They knew where Toby lived. Surely that meant they could now go to him.
Jareth swore, snapping Sarah out of her daze. She mildly noted his agitation. "Jareth, can we go to Toby?"
Jareth paused in his pacing and swivelled around to face her. He swore again. Kneeling unevenly in front of her, cane forgotten on the ground, he took her hand in his. "Oh my Precious, no."
Sarah started but stalled when he squeezed her hands. "I can't circumvent his protection, but we now have more hope than ever. If only your friend hadn't let go of the red book."
Sarah frowned. "I won't have you blaming her, by the way. Mark is the one who you should be angry at, not Hilary."
Jareth dismissed her statement with a wave of his hand.
"Is it bad that he has the book?"
"It could be," he growled. "Who knows who will get hold of it. I can't break the cycle if I can't retrieve the book."
"Can't you just magically search for the book?"
"Yes, but also no," he let go of her hands, reaching for his cane. "The Book and I are connected. Which means I can find it, but the current owner has to relinquish it to me. Until it is offered to me by its keeper, I can not touch it."
"Which is why you are mad," Sarah inferred. "Because if Hilary still had it, then I could have retrieved the book."
"I'd save you from confronting your husband again, Sarah," Jareth grimaced, listing to one side even in a kneel. Sarah bit back a mocking laugh. She wasn't afraid of her husband, but she'd quite happily never see him again.
"Why do I have to confront him?" Sarah pulled herself to her feet. "Why don't you just go and deal with him?"
"I can't just interfere in mortal lives willy-nilly," Jareth explained like she was a five year old. He unfolded himself to stand up, propping himself up on the cane, then facing her with his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.
"You interfered in mine," Sarah retorted. Jareth looked like he was going to retaliate, but he just laughed.
"You wished me to do so," he winked.
"You came to that party," Sarah pointed out. "
"I did," Jareth started pacing again. "Only after the thirteen years of protection had worn off you."
"Well, you would have kidnapped me if the Pinnsburrs hadn't beaten you to it," Sarah pressed.
"Is that what you think?" he shook his head. "No, I came to talk to you. Not kidnap you."
"So if you can come to just talk to me, then why can't you just go and talk to Mark?" Sarah was getting more thoroughly confused.
"Because you were fae touched," Jareth closed his eyes, briefly letting his mask slip. "Mark is not fae-touched, so I can not just go to him."
"How was I fae-touched?"
"The peach," he replied bluntly. Sarah expected it and was not at all astonished by this news. She rolled her eyes, muttering about that 'damn peach' under her breath. Jareth raised a brow but remained close-lipped.
"So what do I need to do to get the book back then?"
"I can send you back," he suggested. "But if I do that, I might not be able to bring you back with me."
"Why on earth not?"
"Your magic hasn't fully manifested," Jareth shrugged. "It might not be the case, but usually when you have only so much magic, crossing the border is incredibly difficult. Unless it is Samhain or Beltane when the veil is thinner, which was the only way the Pinnsburrs could cross the veil to retrieve you."
"So we could wait for those days?"
"That's a possibility."
"And this is the same reason you can't rescue Toby?"
"That, and the Labyrinth protects him," he had moved stiffly to stare out of one of the windows.
"How can you get me across the veil, but not back?"
"You have enough magic to get across," he granted her an explanation. "No veil keepers will question a mortal returning Above, but they will question one coming back. Look at it as your human physics - it exists, it is real, but it is very difficult to explain. I have never had to transport a mortal through the veil, either way, that wasn't a wished-away nor a wisher. I am not positive it can't be done, but I'd rather not risk it."
Sarah knew he left the words "risk losing you," unsaid. She thought his explanation of the rules sounded very much like something out of the Doctor Who series her dad used to watch when she was a kid. She accepted his answer, because what else could she do?
"I can get across with no issues because I have significant stores of power, and because it is strengthened usually, by a wish," he went on. "The other option is portals, but they are indirect and hard to navigate. We could end up in the right continent, but not the right village. I made a portal for you, when you first entered the Labyrinth, but the magic of the Labyrinth mitigates that process. It is less accurate going in the opposite direction."
Sarah remembered the shock of seeing her parent's bedroom opening up into that dusty hill. Jareth had already explained that wishes strengthened that magic, so it wasn't worth asking if that was how they'd get back Underground.
"On the occasions, I have crossed to the Above, when it has not been a wish or Samhain or Beltane, it has been to check in on past runners, Jareth continued with his monologue. "That's how I saw you for the first time, just before your run. I had been returning from monitoring a past runner when the book called me."
"How come you can check on previous runners, but not Toby?"
"Unprecedented," he said briskly. "No-one had won before, and therefore they do not get the boon of the Labyrinth's protection from me or my ilk."
"I probably don't want to know what you mean by checking in on previous runners then, do I?"
Jareth's teeth glinted in the dawn glow. "I have been alive for a very long time, so some of my reactions may be quite medieval to your way of thinking, and certain runners deserved more justice than what the Labyrinth doled out to them. No, you probably do not want to know."
"Thank goodness I won then," Sarah sucked in air through her teeth in relief. Her stomach was roiling at the thought of any further penalties Jareth had carried out in the past.
"Do you think your situation deserved additional punishment meted out, Sarah?"
"Heck no," Sarah laughed bitterly. "I made a mistake, but I never wished harm on Toby. I love him."
"I know," Jareth clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth. "If you had lost, I don't think there would be any punishment I could administer, that would be worse than how you would punish yourself."
They slipped into a silence that wasn't altogether unpleasant. Sarah could attest to the truth of Jareth's words, though found difficulty in expressing this verbally. If she had lost Toby, she wouldn't need an immortal fae to become her own worst enemy. As it was, Toby's awful aunt becoming his guardian had infused enough guilt within her.
"Mostly, when I check on runners it is to ensure that any children that have come into their care are well looked after," Jareth continued sensing her discomfort. "If you take your dreams or you fail to win your child back, you belong to the Labyrinth. Your life isn't really your own from the moment you wish your child away."
Sarah looked around at where she ended up and thought the same applied to winners, as well as losers. However, she probably is better off than those who had lost, despite the nearly 16 years of guilt she felt.
"Is it not in my job description to answer wishes?" Sarah prodded, referring back to Jareth's earlier explanation of crossing the veil. "As Queen-"
"Perhaps," Jareth rubbed his temples. "It is not like two monarchs have ever ruled side by side without being married, so I don't know the particulars, but again, your magic hasn't manifested enough to do so."
"So how do I manifest it?"
Jareth inhaled. "Do you enjoy tormenting me with so many questions?"
"As much as you do, evading the truth."
"Aren't you just a treasure?" Jareth asked sarcastically.
"So are you," Sarah replied with phoney cheer. "One that I would quite like to bury."
"Why don't you introduce your top lip to your bottom lip?" Jareth snarled. "I don't suppose they have ever met. Hmmm?"
"Look, I am trying to see things from your point of view," Sarah snapped, and in a softer tone, she followed with, "but I can't quite fit my head that far up my arse."
"How mature," Jareth muttered.
"I am trying to help you," Sarah growled. "If you don't want my questions, then don't expect my help."
"Oh, you assuredly have been incredibly helpful," Jareth snarkily replied. "Just not today."
"So how do I manifest my magic?" Sarah resumed their actual conversation through gritted teeth. "I am going to pretend you are not trying to insult me."
Sarah saw his jaw twitch before looking away sharply. "Through the choices, you make, through time and bonding with the Labyrinth."
"Choices I make?" Sarah raised her brow. "You mean if I marry you?"
Jareth spun on his heel. "Breakfast is ready, and unless you want the goblins to catch you in here, I suggest you make use of the secret tunnel."
"What a cop-out," Sarah muttered, moving towards the hidden panel anyway. If Jareth heard her, he didn't say anything. She made her way back to her room just in time to see a goblin bustle in to announce breakfast. Sarah stalked off the bathroom to wash up and dress.
Jareth didn't appear for breakfast, so it was a stilted mealtime with just Sevlydi for company. Sarah took a turn around the gardens after her repaste, then headed to the library to read more about her options and her role as Queen. She didn't see Jareth all day, not even at dinner.
Sevlydi had his usual disdainful look plastered on his face as they ate, so any of Sarah's attempts at conversation fell to the wayside. Once they had finished, Sarah made her way to the ramparts. She half expected an owl to be there much like the night before, but the castle wall was devoid of any avian critters. Sarah supposed that meant she was sleeping in her own bed tonight. For an eternal being, Jareth could throw a sulk like a toddler being told "no."
Sarah hadn't been out there long before the heavens opened up. Rain was rare Underground, much to Sarah's eternal disappointment, but tonight it was bitter and cold. She spun on her heel to return to the Castle when the sight of the Labyrinth illuminated by lightning brought Sarah to a standstill. It was exquisite. Jareth stood on a higher battlement, the wind whipping his cloak and hair which seemed untouched by the rain. The lightning hit all his sharp angles and lines, reminding her very much of their very first meeting. Eventually, he turned to look at her, his face grim and unmoving, like an impeccable piece of art. Her breath caught, and her eyes widened as she took in the dark, poetic image he presented.
Jareth looked every part the Goblin King, and while it slightly unnerved Sarah, there was no denying she was also notably turned on; despite their puerile bickering earlier.
"Damn sexy, arrogant pillock," Sarah muttered under her breath. They both faced each other, both immobile, both trapped in the stare of the other. Sarah was the first to tear her eyes away, as icy rainwater ran down her spine. She swept her bedraggled hair away from her face, marching with purpose along the parapets, her tunic and cloak plastered to her wet skin. Jareth still cut the romantic, dashing figure above her, while she was a drowned rat slinking home.
Sarah cursed as she nearly slipped on the slippery, mossy rocks of the wall. A clap of thunder startled her just as a goblin darted out from a hole in the rocks. Tripping over her own feet, and the hem of her drenched cloak, Sarah gasped as she started to fall onto the hard, unforgiving ground. Jareth caught her before she made contact with the wall. His hold on her was unrelenting. She felt strangely sheltered from the rain as he snaked his arms around her, pulling her back tight against his chest.
"Am I forgiven for the asinine way I dismissed your questions earlier?" he whispered, barely audible over the storm.
"Have you apologised?" Sarah returned.
"This is me apologising," he crooned in her ear.
"What? By stopping me from falling on my face?" Sarah snorted. "A decent person would have done that without an ulterior motive."
"I am not a person, nor am I decent," his breath was a heady warmth against her ear. "But regardless, I would not have you fall onto your pretty face."
"It hardly counts as an apology then does it?"
"Sarah," he drawled, his voice sending shivers down her already trembling body. From the cold, she told herself. "I appreciate your - determination to aid me and your questions were necessary."
"Until it was one you didn't want to answer," Sarah found her hands had rested naturally atop of his ones now placed on either hip. His fingers threaded through hers, pulling her deeper into his chest.
"You are very wet, Sarah," his voice caressed her suddenly blushing cheek. "And my leg is very sore from holding you up. May I please transport you inside?"
Sarah nodded, and instantly they found themselves back in Jareth's bed chambers. Jareth let go of her, nearly pitching to the floor, before summoning his cane to regain his balance. Sarah headed straight to the panel to go and bathe and dress.
"You will be right back," Jareth said in an ambiguous tone, that Sarah could not determine if it was a question or a command. She glanced at him but didn't offer an answer. "You have yet to accept my apology, and we have training tonight."
"You have yet to apologise," Sarah laughed.
"Sarah," he took one considerable step towards her with his healthy and sound leg. "You asked questions that I was finding - strenuous in my ability to answer truthfully. I resorted to behaviour that was -un - that was ill-suited to our tenuous relationship. I regret my childish words."
"That's good enough," Sarah grinned. "You have said sorry to me before without it hurting, you know."
He smirked. "Momentary lapses of good judgement."
"So normal transmission has now resumed," Sarah scoffed.
"So apology accepted?"
"I guess," Sarah pulled her wet cloak around her shoulders, shivering despite her proximity to the fire.
"Go and get dry, Sarah," he waved his hand towards the panel door. "And when you come back maybe you can apologise to me for wishing me dead - and buried."
"I never said dead," Sarah grinned. "Just buried."
Sarah returned after a warm bath and dry night-clothes. She only hesitated for the briefest of moments before heading back to Jareth's chambers down through the dusty tunnels. She knocked and heard his resounding, "enter."
Jareth was already sitting at the fire with their hot chocolates sitting on the table between the two armchairs. She sidled into the room and sat opposite him, drying her hair with a towel.
"I can take care of that for you," Jareth suggested. "Come and sit on my lap, and I can dry your hair."
Sarah laughed but didn't move.
"Sarah, I am sorry for my childish behaviour earlier," Jareth apologised. "Now, will you come here."
"I am quite capable of drying my hair," Sarah continued to do just that. "But apology accepted."
"You are capable, but I would like to do it for you," his lips curled upwards on one side. "Please."
"Why?"
"I am trying to do something nice," he shrugged. "And I am quite fond of your long hair, and have a desire to run my fingers through it."
"I believe your second answer over your first one," Sarah responded, blithely. Before she could say anything more, she suddenly found herself transported across the room and was sitting on a cushion on the floor. Jareth sat on a footstool behind her.
"Hey," Sarah protested but didn't move away.
"Hello," Jareth said as his fingers started carding through her hair. A low moan escaped, unhindered, causing Sarah to redden furiously. She wasn't a teenager, but somehow Jareth with his sensuality that oozed from every pore, made her feel like a blushing virgin. "Your hair is just as soft and rich as I imagined it was."
"You've touched it before," Sarah pointed out.
"Not like this," his voice dipped into dark, sensual territory. Sarah shuddered from both the hair play and his tones. Without warning, he started singing in a language that Sarah did not understand. It was a slow, moving song and Sarah recognised the song after the first verse.
"The King's Lament," Sarah said wryly. "The dirge about a mopey king who misses someone that he thinks he loves, but it is merely an obsession. However, she can't hear him mourn because she left him for presumably very valid reasons."
"I did say I would sing it to you one day," his fingers did not slow in their ministrations, despite the interruption to his singing. "It was, after all, a lament I wrote for myself."
Sarah answered with a dry hum before crossing her arms. Still, she did not move away from him. Instead, she eyed her hot chocolate, hoping it would magically move closer. Sarah's mouth flopped open as the cup languidly slid across the table to stop right in arms reach.
"Your magic is manifesting," Sarah could hear the grin in his voice, his naked fingernails scraping across her scalp, most tantalisingly. She remained silent, taking her drink in two hands, sipping the sweet, hot liquid tentatively. Jareth started singing again in the incomprehensible language. Incomprehensible, but she still knew every word thanks to the Sprigetts of Cloverfield that sang it daily when she lived with them. She wondered if they missed her.
"There is a reason I chose not to sing it in the common tongue," he said upon completion. "Those words are only for the intended recipient. I purposely selected an obscure, dead language so the meaning would always be ambiguous."
"You, or rather Terry, offered to sing it to me in the common tongue," Sarah pointed out.
"Exactly."
"Well, then," Sarah grunted. "I can safely say that the girl had good reason to leave and it wasn't so much love as an obsession."
"You had a reason to leave," he agreed. "I disagree that it is merely an obsession."
Sarah cackled.
"What?" Jareth paused in his care.
"This is all too funny," Sarah grinned. "The rain is slashing the windows, but we're warm and cosy by the fire. I have a man singing to me while playing with my hair. It couldn't be more romantic, but the irony is that it is you and I."
"Why is it ironic?" he gradually started moving his fingers through her hair again. Sarah savoured every second.
"Do you honestly think we are compatible?"
"Compatible?" Jareth pondered. "No. Nothing so trite should exist between us."
"A relationship built on snark and mistrust," Sarah rolled her eyes. "Yes, that sounds far healthier than compatibility."
"I prefer to see it as adventure and passion," his hand moved down her neck, fingers tracing the smooth curve heading towards her spine. "I shall not attempt to glamour myself to fool you again, Sarah. Unless you wish for some roleplay one day."
Sarah swatted his knee. Playfully. Jareth leant down and kissed the top of her head.
"Let us go to bed," he whispered into her hair.
"Yes, let us start my magical training and education, that just happens to require a bed," Sarah said dryly.
That night Jareth encountered memories of Sarah's mother ignoring her as she cried about a favourite doll that had gone missing, and the day Sarah's mother left for her career and never returned.
Sarah woke up sobbing as she relived the memories, but she had left the dream at the time of her choosing. Jareth wiped her tears away with his thumbs, pulling her closer.
"Sarah," he whispered. "People who leave us - especially those we love - the hurt never heals. I observed healing befalls us when we discover those who will not let us go."
"I have no-one," Sarah sobbed, self-pity overcoming her usual self-possession and containment. Jareth pulled her closer still.
"You have me," he promised. "And one day you will have Toby again."
"I don't have you," she tried to push him away.
"Sarah, can I show you something?" his thumb traced her eyebrow, circling her temples, then running down the outer shell of her ear, gently pinching the ear lobe before starting back at the beginning. "Can you walk in one of my memories?"
"Why?" Sarah asked, her voice thick and her eyes stinging.
"You have opened yourself to me, so I would like to repay the favour," his hands still moving, caressingly and comfortingly across her face. Sarah conceded, and Jareth placed her hand over his heart. "We are co-monarchs. It is only right you should see how I ended up being sent to the Goblin Kingdom by my father."
"Try to keep your hand here, while I go to sleep," he instructed. "When I am asleep, will yourself to me as I taught you, and I will take you to where you need to go."
Sarah found herself in palatial surroundings, as soon as she had followed Jareth's directions. He sat upon a marble bench, watching her, from across a pond with a large fountain dead centre. The whole place was a marble, upon marble courtyard lined with marble-walled buildings. Luscious, well-manicured greenery contrasted significantly with the stark white of the rest of the environment. Sarah headed over to join Jareth.
He shuffled over, leaving room for Sarah to sit down next to him. As soon as she was seated, she spotted a blonde child sitting quietly with a book under one of the large, decorative trees with the trunks artistically twisted into a spiral. Sarah recognised him instantly as a younger Jareth. Her attention was swayed away from Jareth by deep adult voices. A man, blonde, tall, slender and with excruciatingly blue eyes walked through the courtyard with a shorter blonde woman, whose eyes, while also blue, were less striking.
"My parents," Jareth muttered. "King Effistod and Queen Lilan."
Lilan had long flowing blonde hair with a few loose plaits woven in. Her nose and mouth matched Jareth's. Effistod had a thick braid down his back, and he shared eyes and a chin with the Goblin King. However, Sarah noticed the lack of warmth in his eyes was a striking difference between father and son. Both mother and father had an ethereal glow and impeccable clothing, and the same cold, distant look she had seen in Nudalun and Omre. Lilan betrayed a slight warmth in her eyes that Sarah noticed she tried to mask with the rest of her features.
"Boy," bellowed the King, his voice echoing unpleasantly around the vicinity. Sarah saw another younger blond child freeze on the spot.
"Sevlydi," Sarah whispered to herself. Jareth nodded, his face was grim, but his eyes were dancing.
"Your Majesty?" Sevlydi bowed.
"Nudalun tells me that you refused to bow to her this morning," Effistod towered over the young child.
"True, sire," Sevlydi conceded.
"That is a punishable offence," the King's voice had descended to a low, but dangerous pitch.
"Yes, Sire."
"Princess Nudalun is a higher rank than you because of your age," the King reminded his son. "Furthermore, your mother is sullied with the blood of humans, so that makes you a lesser being."
"Yes, sire," Sevlydi muttered. Sarah looked at Jareth's mother. Stoic and silent at the debasement of her son, and of herself.
"Speak up, boy," his father growled.
Yes, sire," he said more confidently.
"You will receive notice of your punishment in due course," the King decreed.
"That is highly ridiculous," came another voice. Jareth stood there, his book held behind his back, bravely staring his father down.
"You dare - ?" Effistod spluttered.
"The reason Prince Sevlydi didn't bow to Princess Nudalun this morning, was because she tripped him over with her foot," Jareth continued, unfazed. "When your eldest brother is sitting on your back, it is a bit hard to bow from the ground."
Sarah swallowed as she watched King Effistod's face redden in anger.
"You lie to my face, you swine," he hissed. Jareth straightened and stuck out his chin, defiantly.
"I speak the truth," Jareth insisted. "Prince Omre had thrashed Prince Sevlydi for no reason when Princess Nudalun entered; he could not bow as he was under the substantial weight of our half brother."
"Prince Omre would never act in such a disgraceful manner," Effistod spat. "He isn't a part mortal, like you two mongrels."
"Prince Jareth," his mother spoke up for the first time. "You forget your place."
"Mother, Sevlydi is being treated unreasonably by our siblings," Jareth justified. "You must see that this is not fair."
Sarah snuck a look at adult-Jareth, but his face remained immobile and inscrutable.
"You will receive punishment alongside your brother for this insubordination," the King ignored his wife and child. "You both disgust me. You two, who always act the victims, are no sons of mine."
What followed was vituperation beyond reason. Sarah clasped her hand over her mouth, as his vitriol spewed out about his two sons with abandon. Effistod accused Jareth of being a victim several times. Jareth's mother offered no reprieve.
"What is to be my punishment, Sire?" Jareth said, with heavy sarcasm. "Hot oil, or the rack?"
"You will get your punishment in due course," Effistod barked, spittle flying out of his mouth. "Like your brother."
The King turned away, clicking his fingers to his wife to follow him. Obediently she stepped into his wake. He had neared the entrance to one of the buildings when he spun around again.
"You can wait for your punishment in a cell," Effistod waved his hand, and both brothers disappeared from the scene. Sarah noticed Lilan's pinched face tighten as she watched both her children imprisoned before her.
"We were both left in that cell for three months," Jareth whispered as the view started dissolving. He grabbed her waist, and he pulled her out of the memory.
Knowing that Jareth's arms would be around her as Sarah woke, she found herself hesitating to wake up. But wake she did. Blearily, she searched his face to see Jareth's brow furrowed and his eyes still closed, but she knew he was awake.
"Three months in a cell for not bowing, and three months for standing up for your brother?" Sarah asked incredulously. "When you were both children?"
"That wasn't even the punishment," he opened his eyes, pulling her tighter to him. "After those three months, I was sent to the Goblin Kingdom to be its ruler, and Sev was ordered to come with me."
"But you were a child," Sarah tutted.
"It was always going to be the destiny for me," he sighed. "Third child as I was, I needed to be out of the way. The human in me makes me unpredictable and power-hungry. So this little offence was enough to make my destiny come a little earlier. That is all."
"All for not bowing," Sarah licked and nibbled her lips. "Surely they will not approve of me as the Goblin Queen."
"It matters not," Jareth's hand on her waist started moving in languorous circles. "You are my Kingdom's Queen, not theirs."
"But surely I fall under their jurisdiction?" Sarah queried.
"Mmmm," he closed his eyes again.
"Especially after I replaced Forsythia."
Jareth's eyes darted open again, his hands stilled. "You could never replace what was never there."
"I meant that they didn't get Forsythia as their Goblin Queen, because apparently, I am it," Sarah didn't want him to think she was talking about marrying him.
"I knew what you meant," his voice lowered a few octaves.
"I didn't mean as in marrying you," Sarah could feel the blood rushing to her cheeks. She was over thirty; it was embarrassing to blush as much as she did around him. Thank the bog it was still the greyish dark of predawn. He closed his eyes again.
"It has been a long night," Jareth yawned. "Go to sleep, and we will talk in the morning."
"Are you going to let me go to my bed?" she asked as his hands started their lazy drawing on her waist again.
"I think not," he said, smiling, eyes still firmly shut. "I find having you here with me, makes reliving that memory easier, as indubitably the same has been done for you."
"It makes you sad," she said matter-of-factly.
"Yes," he answered after a lengthy pause. "My mother just stood and let it happen. You don't just turn away from a child who needs you. I read mortal books from a very early age. I envied the family dynamics and how love was portrayed in those stories. I was sad for a time that I did not have that with my own family."
"I am sorry, Jareth," Sarah reached out and placed her hand on his chest.
"You have nothing to be sorry for," Jareth sighed. His free hand cupped hers against his chest.
"I am sorry that your parents abandoned you so carelessly," Sarah went on.
"They're fae. It is not unexpected."
"No wonder you dislike handing over the wished away children to them," Sarah muttered.
"Go to sleep, love," he mumbled, his hand stilling on her hip while his other hand still clasped hers against the silky, warm, expanse of his chest.
Love? The last time he had called her that was at the ball. While Jareth had declared his love for her, he had not been so openly affectionate with his words. Warm feelings stirred within her, and despite her self-preservation urging her to leave, she chose to stay, locked in his embrace. Eventually, sleep claimed her.
Dawn woke her from slumber still predictably wrapped in Jareth's embrace. She didn't fight it, choosing to enjoy his warmth and his intoxicating scent. Jareth still had his eyes closed, but his mouth upturned as if in a half-smile. Sarah ran her free hand, the one not in his possessive clasp, down the line of his scar across the brow and cheek-bone. Despite how well he was healing, this one remained quite deep and prominent to the touch. Sarah marvelled yet again at the lengths he took to ensure her safety. Instantly, that thought evaporated as she held on the resentment of being rescued by a male. 'Girl power,' indeed.
Sarah's hand left the trail of his scar and ventured off into his silken smooth hair. Still rugged from having been burnt off, it was nevertheless pleasing to the touch, like how she imagined clouds or fairy wings to feel. It was during her exploration of his hair that she became aware of something hot and hard throbbing against her stomach. She lifted the blankets and saw Jareth pitching a sizeable tent up against her body. Sarah flushed with embarrassment but also an intense pleasure. A mere touch was producing a bountiful effect on him, and it made Sarah feel markedly powerful. It also made her feel incredibly turned on.
"Has something of notable significance captured your interest down there, precious?"
Sarah dropped the blanket and glared at his smirking, smug face. "Nothing at all. I thought I felt something touch me, but unless it is microscopic, I can't see anything."
Jareth chuckled at her blatant lie, his cock twitching against her stomach at his movement. Sarah didn't feel proud having to resort to shaming, nor lying to cover her own guilt at having been caught. He didn't seem remotely shamed though.
"Good morning," he uttered, almost breathlessly as he pulled her closer. "I am growing quite accustomed to waking up with you in my arms."
"You still have to show me how to avoid walking altogether," Sarah yawned. "Then you don't have to teach me anymore, and subsequently your arms can find someone else to entrap."
"You're not trapped," he said simply. "You're free to leave whenever you wish. I told you that from the start."
"I don't wish," she responded, sheepishly back.
"I know," his hand shifted from her hip in a slow sensual path up her waist, her ribcage, the side of her breast, her shoulder, before settling on her cheek. His thumb stroked her jawbone as he looked through lidded eyes at her. "Thank you for your comfort last night."
"Well, seriously," Sarah huffed. "They treated you abominably and punished you unjustly."
"And I carried on the cycle with you," he closed his eyes briefly.
"You weren't as bad as them," Sarah admitted. "You look like a saint in comparison. Well - almost."
"Do not go that far," he chuckled, releasing her hand from his grasp for the first time since he had captured it. He used his now free hand to slide under her hip and pull her closer yet. Sarah used her now released hand to press against his chest, feeling his heart rate increase under her palm. He was watching her studiously through half-closed eyes as he pressed his erection firmly into her stomach. Sarah found herself reacting automatically by pulling her hips closer to his. Their legs intertwined as they stared each other down.
Jareth moaned as Sarah's hand left his hair and shifted to his mouth, her thumb running across his bottom lip, her fingers curled under his jaw. Inching forward, she pressed her mouth to his lips, granting a chaste kiss. Before she could pull away entirely, he sunk his fingers into her hair, holding the back of her neck and slanting his mouth back across hers. His lips were warm and dry and felt like satin against her mouth. Both hands, one at her nape and one on her hip, gripped harder as his tongue slid across her bottom lip, prodding gently and tantalisingly at the seam of her mouth for acceptance.
Sarah hesitated briefly before flicking her tongue out to taste his. Jareth groaned into her mouth as his tongue finally found ingress. With ease and proficiency, he deepened the kiss and Sarah moaned in turn. Her hand left his jaw, hooking her arm over his shoulder, while with her other hand, still at his chest, dug her nails in. Jareth shuddered under her touch, his erection straining against her stomach. Sarah ground her pelvis into his upper thigh in response.
"Jareth, can you dismiss your whore please?" came a familiar, deep voice. Sarah immediately disengaged to face the interloper, while Jareth remained reticent and unmoved, save for one brief flicker of a scowl. Sarah instantly recognised Jareth's father. She turned back to Jareth to see him still watching her.
"Father, what are you doing in my bedroom?" his tone was calm and bored sounding.
"As much as I would enjoy watching this mortal strumpet writhe and moan, I have business to discuss with you," Effistod growled. "Get out of bed and dismiss your human harlot."
"She is not my whore," Jareth stated without turning away from Sarah. The situation had her flustered, but the last thing she was concerned with was his attempt at insulting her.
"If I am his whore, he damn well should be paying me," Sarah retaliated, producing a glint in Jareth's eyes that suggested he found some humour in her words.
"You dare talk to me," the King of Navas spluttered furiously. "If I was you, I wouldn't defy me."
"You will wait in the appropriate audience chamber, and I will meet you when I am ready," Jareth ordered, a slight bite to his tone. "You will leave off any further insults to my Queen."
"I am not going to sit around and wait while you fuck you bint," Effistod yelled. "I am your father, and I am still the king. And she is no Queen of yours."
"I presume that is what you are here to discuss, so if you could wait until we are dressed and bathed, we would appreciate it," Jareth said in a more civil tone.
"You forget your place, mongrel," he barked, but fortuitously left the room, slamming the door behind him.
"How did he get in here?" Sarah asked.
"He is King of Navas," Jareth released the grip he still had on her. "Unfortunately, he has the power to just turn up like that. Usually, he would just summon me, as he would deem it beneath him to come here."
"So you couldn't sense him?"
"Not one iota," Jareth sighed, pushing away from her to sit up. Sarah noticed a peak under the sheet still remained between his legs. "I do not look forward to the day he passes over, and Omre is the one with that power. My father is terrible, but Omre is worse."
"Surely the Labyrinth would want to defend you from him if he was malicious?" Sarah also sat up, her body flushed, her breath erratic, and her clothing damp in immodest places. She was sure her disarray hadn't escaped Jareth's notice, however. Nor the scent of their mutual arousal that lingered in the bed.
"The magic he wields to gain entry is complex," Jareth shrugged. "I suppose you are grateful for his timely intervention."
Sarah blushed, bit her lip and shook her head. Jareth returned her silent honesty with a wan smile.
"I suggest you have a bath and remain hidden in your room while he is here," Jareth threw the sheets off him. "While I deal with him."
"He seems to really loathe humans," Sarah observed.
"It won't stop him from trying to steal you from me," Jareth spat out. He swallowed and cursed under his breath as if he hadn't meant to say that. "The less attention you draw to yourself, the safer you will be."
"I am not a possession that can be stolen by anyone, Jareth," she replied as she swept her legs out of bed. "And do you think a man who clearly hates my kind would win me over so easily?"
"Oh, precious," he clutched his cane in his hand as he climbed out of bed. "He wouldn't win you. He would take you."
Sarah saw the hatred etched into Jareth's face, and swallowed down any scathing retort she had been planning on uttering. He sighed and shuffled unevenly over to her.
"I will not let him harm my Champion," he promised, the hand not holding his cane, rested on her shoulder. "He shall not take you while I still draw breath."
Sarah was sitting in the bath moments after she had left Jareth. Her clit still throbbed with unsated desire. She wondered how far she would have gone if they hadn't been interrupted. Would she have let Jareth scratch the itch that had been building these nearly three years past? She could still feel a tingle from where his cock had pressed into her stomach. The very thought of his arousal sent ribbons of sensation shooting down her nerves and firing deep down in her core. Their kiss was deeply evocative, and as Sarah replayed it in her mind, her hand travelled slowly down her wet, soapy body.
Her fingers danced across her nipples, urging a soft moan to escape her lips. Down the smooth flat plane of her stomach, until they found her mound. Without any hesitation, she plunged a finger in between her lips, down across her clit, her eyes rolling shut as she passed her most sensitive spot before she roughly inserted her finger inside. Sarah twirled her finger around a few times before travelling back up to the bundle of nerves that was swollen and eager for her touch. She rubbed that spot slowly at first, then gradually more vigorously, until she felt herself edging an orgasm. She pictured Jareth in her mind, heard his groan, felt his hands touching her, as he had this morning and that was enough to tip her over the edge into spiralling oblivion of her climax.
Breathing hard, she opened her eyes half expecting Jareth to be sitting there in the bath watching with a self-assured look plastered on his face. He wasn't. Sarah started washing herself furiously, utterly aware that she had never come so quickly in her life, and Jareth was partially responsible.
Another thought flickered in her head as she finished up washing. Jareth was protecting her, and she had already had enough of being the damsel in distress. He had told her to stay here, but she felt the urge to defend her position as Queen, and not let Jareth take this one upon himself. She climbed out of the bath with purpose, water sluicing off her onto the tiled floor.
It didn't take long for Sarah to find the King and his son. Dressed in burgundy and black Goblin Queen armour, she marched into the dining room with her head held high. Her boots clattered across the stone floor towards where they were both seated, with Sevlydi also in tow. Jareth's look was dark but unreadable. Effistod raised a brow and gave her a lascivious grin. Sarah ignored him and went to sit next to Jareth, who coincidentally mirrored her armour.
"Oh dear," the Navas King said mockingly. "There appear to be no seats available."
He was right. As soon as Sarah had approached a chair, he had magicked them all away. She just smirked and sat rather confidently on Jareth's lap. Jareth's hand settled on her hip, squeezing it in what felt like comfort or reassurance or possessiveness. She wasn't sure, but it still felt nice.
"The true place for a common street whore but I assure you my lap is more comfortable," Effistod smirked. "Though I do not know why you are here. Dressing the part doesn't hide the stench of mortal blood."
"I dress the part because I have the part," she replied simply. Her black kohl-lined eyes and deep wine coloured lips gave her confidence, but it was the medallion nestled between her armour that sealed the deal. The look she had envisioned was 'fierce,' and Sarah definitely felt like she had achieved that look.
"Your part to play is only as a bed warmer," he dismissed her. "I am sure you play that role well, and I can not wait to taste you myself, but that is all you can be. Your uniform is nudity, not Goblin Queen armour. Your medallion should be my cum, not the crest of the Goblin Kingdom. Knowing my son and how quickly he tires of his whores, you will be wearing my own brand of necklace very soon. "
"I am Queen," she retorted confidently; Jareth's hand on her hip gave a boost to her courage. King Effistod's crass words disgusted her, but simultaneously they impelled her.
"As I was saying," Jareth addressed his father. "The goblins and the Labyrinth made her Queen. Forsythia could only have an honourary title if she chose to marry me."
"Forsythia doesn't get a choice," he barked. "You will marry Forsythia, crown her Queen, and dismiss this slag. Either I can take the mortal off your hands, or she receives a death sentence."
Effistod's eyes bored into hers as he said this. Jareth's fingers gripped tighter, and she sucked in a deep breath to remain seemingly unperturbed.
"It won't be happening," Jareth said in low, dark tones.
"No, it won't," Sarah said with sudden realisation. Whether it was self-preservation or responsibility towards her Kingdom, she knew what choice she had to make.
"Once I make a choice, Prince Sevlydi," she turned to face the silent man on her right. "The contract is binding, correct?"
"What are you talking about?" Effistod grunted.
"Yes, Your Majesty," he said pointedly, to Sarah.
"Well, then, I have made my choice," she turned around to face Jareth sitting behind her. "Jareth, I choose the contract in which I marry you. Sevlydi, please destroy the other options."
Jareth gripped her waist with both hands, his face flickering with emotion, but in the presence of his father, he remained stoic. Sarah noticed that his scar was not visible, and she frowned at this development, cataloguing it for later perusal.
"What?" Effistod bellowed. "You shall not debase our family by marrying this trollop."
"Family?" Jareth laughed scornfully. "Family do not cast out their youngest children for overlooking one genuflection. Family face dangers untold, and hardships unnumbered for each other. Family would traverse the Labyrinth to reclaim their loved ones."
"They would sacrifice their lives to ensure their family's safety," Sarah added. Jareth's thumbs stroked her back in circles at her words. Effistod glared daggers at Sarah, then Jareth.
"It is against our laws for you to marry such a creature," Effistod continued.
"No," Sevlydi intercepted. "That is a falsehood."
"Do not answer back to me, boy," Effistod yelled. Sarah had noticed that Jareth's father was all bluster and noise. Jareth always remained collected even when angry. It was a striking difference that made Jareth somewhat more terrifying.
"Sarah, I will summon your contracts," Sevlydi declared, ignoring his father. He held up his hand, and the three contracts appeared in his grip. "Are you sure about this?
"Of course she is sure," Effistod growled. "Why wouldn't a common tart want to marry a King of a Principality? She gets immortality, magic and power?"
"She is already Queen," Jareth reminded him. "She already has those three things. By marrying me, it just means you can not attempt to supplant her with one of your puppets."
"What do you mean she already has access to magic and immortality?" Effistod hollered. Did he ever talk at a reasonable volume? "What have you done?"
"I have done nothing," Jareth shifted in his seat, causing Sarah to tip forward. "The Labyrinth and the Goblins chose her."
It wasn't the complete truth, and Sarah could detect it, but it seemed Effistod bought it. His grimace was fixed in place as he slammed his hands on the table.
"I will not allow this to happen."
"Sarah?" Jareth asked, at her back. "Are you sure you want to do this?"
Sarah turned from Jareth and stared Effistod down. "Yes."
Sevlydi held up her two other contracts, and before Effistod could utter another syllable, the prince dissolved them. "You will need an official ceremony, of course, but by agreeing to this contract, you have consented to be married to Jareth. This arrangement can only be broken asunder by the two parties involved."
Sarah swallowed. Sevlydi tossed a meaningful glance at his father when he spoke his last sentence. Jareth's hands squeezed her waist, as Sarah jutted her chin out defiantly, towards her future father-in-law. As soon as those other two contracts disintegrated, Sarah felt her skin erupt with goosebumps and the hair stand up on the back of her neck. Shivers travelled up her spine, while shadows appeared to be creeping around the peripheral of her vision.
"You foolish child," he stood up so briskly his chair went skidding across the floor. "You have all but declared civil war on your own Kingdom."
"And we will defend it with our lives," Jareth eased Sarah to her feet so he could stand, noticeably without his cane. Sarah felt the ground shift under her feet, her knees buckling. "Now, if you will excuse me, I have a ceremony to prepare."
"How do you think your mother will react to the news that her son has declared civil war on Navas?" Effistod asked in a rare tone that equalled his son's: low and dangerous.
Jareth laughed. "Mother would not like it, but she would not dream of defying you. She loves you more than she loves her offspring."
"And don't think I have forgotten you, boy," he turned to Sevlydi. Sarah noticed streaks of grey in his blonde braid, as he rounded on his youngest son. "Cavorting with a lesser male fae. Your summons to court is on its way. You are both disgraces who should never have been born."
"My wife and I look forward to hearing from you," Jareth said with a toothy grin, pulling Sarah to his side. Sarah felt too weak to resist. Effistod strode out, banging the door wide open and scattering goblins in his wake.
Sarah turned to face her new fiance, her face paling. Jareth stood there with a condescending grin on his face, apparently ignorant of her pallor.
"War?" Sarah shook her head, barely able to process what had just happened. "I thought marrying you would secure the Goblin Kingdom and your - our - subjects, but now we have put them at risk with a - war."
"And it is glorious," Jareth chuckled darkly, rubbing his hands together. Sarah's trepidation built steadily at the ambiguous smile on his face. Images of her future walking flashed in front of her eyes. Brief glimpses of death and destruction flared around her. When she looked at Jareth, she saw his eyeless corpse in front of her. Scintillating bursts of happier scenes intertwined with the black mist that swallowed them whole. Screams and cries from unknown sources echoed around the room. Sarah's stomach roiled, her head spun, and her eyes skittered around the room, unable to settle on one scene. The prickles under her skin building and gaining speed, on the precipice of bursting through the surface.
'What have I done?' Sarah thought as she stepped back from the chaos erupting around her. Had she made the wrong choice?
A/N: I forgot to acknowledge two references last chapter. The line about not saving her life every time he fuck's up was inspired by the movie, 10 Things I Hate About You. Instead, she jokes that he can't buy her a new guitar every time he makes a mistake. He quips back about all the other instruments left to buy (great film). There was also a slight reference to Doctor Who (time and space).
For this chapter, Child-Jareth quotes from Ever After when he says, "what will it be, father? Hot oil, or the rack?"
Obviously, Jareth's father is a lot worse than the King in Ever After (such a great film - in my top 5 for sure). On the note of Jareth's father, sex work is legitimate work, and I do not hold for his name-calling and slurs thrown at Sarah. Especially, when he partakes in the business as a client himself. What a hypocrite. Also, slut-shaming is uncool.
Thank you, everyone, that has been following. So only a slice of lemon in this chapter, but it has moved Sarah forward in her feelings I think. They finally kissed. Huzzah. But of course, they had to be interrupted. Of course.
Buutttttt on the other hand Sarah has agreed to marry Jareth whether it is just to save her life and solidify her reign over her kingdom, or something deeper and more meaningful? Dun dun dun.