A/N: Smut warning ;)
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
Sarah was happily drunk. Sevlydi sat with her in the shadow of a tree drinking such copious amounts of wine that their livers would surely protest about it for the rest of their natural lives. Sarah had many reasons to drink since leaving the cave. For one thing, she had just seen a unicorn and had a conversation with it. Learning in the process that this mythical entity condoned the bride-pearl that was imposed upon her by Jareth. Why this encounter disturbed her more than matrimony to a magical man, was beyond her.
Sarah was aware that something momentous had happened; no big bangs or magical clouds of glitter, but the reverential silence that everyone slipped into after she had returned the pearl, was clue enough. Being referred to as Curse-breaker by the unicorn was also a dead giveaway that this wasn't some trifling event. It was the silence that was the most consequential sign. Even Jareth lowered his head in a manner that she would describe as 'demure' if Jareth could even display such an affectation.
After that, the unicorn disappeared into the ether, making Sarah believe she had imagined it all; if it wasn't for the silent, grave faces of the two men staring back at her. By the time the three humanoids left the caves, the moonstones had been long forgotten by them. Sarah was grateful as she had seen the shape and colour of her moonstone. And that was reason number two for pickling her liver.
It was the same shape as Jareth's moonstone; the same colour. Sarah had slipped the moonstone down the front of her dress at the first opportunity, postponing any thoughts about love to the wayside. Except it could never completely get pushed to the side, and that led on to reason number three for abusing her internal organs. Forsythia!
Groups of different beings were milling around throughout the glade, talking, singing and dancing, initiating a celebratory ambience. Forsythia was one of the principal people to approach them with well-wishings after they left the cave. The discarded-bride didn't acknowledge Sarah, but rather Forsythia flung her arms around Jareth's shoulders. Jareth's manner was still reserved since the unicorn's visit. He gave a look of surprise before his arms coiled around Forsythia's hips, cane included.
"Sythia," he crooned as he held her, "I am so pleased you made it to my wedding."
"Jareth, dear," she simpered, "I understand why you had to marry the mortal, but now you are free to—"
"He is not free," Sarah answered with a thunderous look on her face that she was sure to regret. "Especially, not to do anything with you."
"Now, now, Sarah," he said, smirking, "play nice."
Sarah cleared her throat and smiled beatifically. "Of course, my dear husband."
Her tone, heavy with sarcasm, when all she felt like doing was kicking him where it hurts, wasn't lost on either of them. Jareth's lips twitched, Forsythia scowled, and Sarah rolled her eyes. She didn't know what game Jareth was playing, but she was going to find Sevlydi and get drunk. Was he baiting her into jealousy by embracing Forsythia? But before she could move, Jareth had released Forsythia and clamped Sarah to his side, instead. Now he no longer had Forsythia propping him up he whisked out his cane to support his weight.
"My wife is correct," he purred. "I am not free. And even if I was released, you won't be my choice of field to plough."
Forsythia tittered, unperturbed. Sarah tracked Forsythia's hand as it stroked up and down Jareth's arm, while she said in a sultry voice, "my parents aren't here, so you do not need to put this show on for their benefit."
"I would never do anything for their benefit," Jareth said, picking her hand off his arm and releasing it swiftly. "I do not perform for their sake, nor yours. As you can see, my wife has claimed me."
Sarah couldn't hide the shock flittering across her face. Perhaps giving into her possessiveness had played her hand too openly. He seemed oddly satisfied.
"I find mortals unsavoury, but if she has to come too, I guess I can accept that," Forsythia said, glancing at Sarah before batting her eyes at Jareth. Did she just suggest a threesome? After a heavy pause, Forsythia added, "I haven't had much experience with females, but I am sure you could teach me."
"Pass," Sarah said, breaking free of Jareth's grasp and shuffling away from him in the direction of other well-wishers, namely her friends.
"I am sure she would be very easy to satisfy," Forsythia went on. "Mortals are so easy to enthral, so it shouldn't be hard to seduce and fulfil. They're so sensitive after all."
Sarah's interest was piqued. She wondered if fae were quite hard to satisfy, carnally. The thought had never occurred to her, and she questioned if she'd be up to the task. Then she wondered why on earth she was thinking about having sex with Jareth. He never seemed that far from arousal around her, so how Herculean a task could it be to get him off? She screamed, internally, at herself for letting those thoughts enter her mind.
"Sarah is no easy conquest." Jareth pinned her with his look as she sidled away from him. "But we will not be taking you up on that offer, Sythia. Sarah is mine."
Sarah scoffed before moving away towards a gathering of her friends.
"And I am hers," he said from right behind her, having followed directly. His arms coiled around her waist. "Tell me I am yours, Sarah."
"I know there must be a bottle of wine around here with my name on it"—Sarah looked from side to side—"if I find it, then I belong to that bottle of wine."
"Cruel."
It wasn't long until reason number four to get sloshed and forgo internal organs, rose its head. They had moved on to accept the congratulations of many other groups of creatures and people. Sarah received their congratulations with polite smiles. When they were eventually alone, Jareth snaked his arms around her waist from behind. Sarah could feel the chill metal of his cane against her hipbone.
"You were jealous of Forsythia," he whispered in her ear. "Admit it."
"I was not." Sarah tried to bat him away.
"Prove it." He pulled her spine flush against his body. "At your mortal weddings, it is customary to kiss the bride. You have not offered me a kiss, so that will be my deal. You say you're not jealous of Sythia, kiss me to make me believe it. If you don't kiss me, it will prove you are jealous."
"What on earth kind of deal is that?" Sarah laughed.
"You won't kiss me just because of custom, but you might out of pride," he said as she turned to look at him. The tip of Jareth's tongue poked through his sharp teeth. His nose wrinkling in mischief. "So what is it, admit you were jealous and sacrifice your pride, or give me a kiss?"
"And what if I wanted to give you a kiss, though?" Sarah placed one hand on her hip and waited for his response. When his eyes lit up, and his lips twitched, Sarah had to qualify with, "because it wouldn't prove I wasn't jealous of Forsythia, and you would never really know the truth."
"Do you think the truth will matter if I was kissing you?" Jareth laughed. "Nothing would matter during that moment."
"Ew"—Sarah wrinkled her nose—"Sappy."
"So are you jealous, or not?" he asked, his breath dancing across her neck as he spoke.
"I feel like I am back at those doors with the playing card guards." Sarah rubbed her brow. "I may lose either way."
"Alph and Ralph, dearest," he mumbled into her neck. "So crass— forgetting names."
Sarah elbowed him lightly. "Promise me the earth won't open up and swallow me whole with either choice I make. I am not sure I could handle being groped by a shaft of hands tonight."
Jareth's hand tightened on her waist, sending bolts of desire straight to her core. "The only hands that will touch you tonight are mine."
"So about the ground opening up...?" Sarah probed.
"I promise the only consequence of admitting you were jealous of Forsythia is merciless teasing, and the only consequence of kissing me is your utmost pleasure." He nipped lightly at the tender skin at the juncture of her throat. "It's not a tough decision."
"No, it's a piece of cake," Sarah answered mockingly, as Jareth thrust his pelvis roughly into her bottom in retaliation. Her breath hitched.
"Careful, Precious." His hand started making swirling patterns on her hip, while he dug the cane into her other side. Sarah tried to suppress the moan, but it escaped loudly, making Jareth chuckle deeply against her throat.
Sarah spun around so suddenly it nearly knocked Jareth off his feet. She grabbed the lapels of his jacket, pulling him closer to her. Slanting her head, Sarah went for Jareth's lips before either of them came to their senses. She rammed her body into the hard planes of his, still clasping his coat. Their mouths met forcibly. She closed her eyes, giving in to the sensations of his smooth lips, and his hot tongue as they wrestled for dominance with each other. It was so unlike their first kiss, which had been sweet and teasing. This one was wild and hungry. Sarah's head spun at the sweet taste of his velvety lips, sucking on her lips. It was sugary, with a hint of lemon, like he had just sipped a sweet lemon tea or nibbled a lemon cake, but it seemed like it was his natural taste too.
Jareth brought her back to earth as his grip tightened, and he moaned into her mouth. Sarah pulled back to see a very affected face peering back at her. They both panted and trembled, but it was his eyes, dark and wide that startled her the most. Sarah took a deep breath and fixed a wobbly smile on her face.
"Piece of cake," she said, her voice thick, her legs shaky. She spun on her heel and made her way into the thicket to find Sevlydi and his alcohol. It didn't take her long as she could practically smell him before she could see him.
That was where she was now, counting her valid reasons for drinking heavily, and listening to Sevlydi wax lyrical about Rica. She hadn't seen Jareth since they kissed, except as he drifted through the trees talking to his guests. Sarah knew she ought to be talking to the Spriggets or her friends, but except for Helena, she didn't think anyone would understand her decision to marry the King. Her wedding day didn't seem like the right day to justify it. So wine was the answer, and she took another swig. It helped numb her lips that burned from their kiss.
"Why does he have to be so bangable?" Sarah complained to Sevlydi when he let up about Rica. "He is so smug, but his bottom is perfect. And he is fucking good kisser. Which sucks."
"I don't really want to discuss my brother in those terms," Sevlydi slurred back. Sarah laughed. Sevlydi laughed in return. Before they knew it they were both in fits of giggles. When they were both rolling around giggling in the leaf litter, Jareth happened upon them.
"Here's the perfect smug bottom now," Sarah snorted, from her prone position. Sevlydi hooted with laughter.
"Sarah, are you drunk?"
"No, I am as sober"—Sarah pushed off the ground— "as you are humble."
"Do you forget that you are Queen?"
"How can I forget with this yoke around my neck?" Sarah huffed, pointing at her pendant.
"We are in front of all our guests and citizens," Jareth reminded her sternly. He turned to his brother. "And you're not much better."
"Lighten up, Jar." Sevlydi shook his bottle at the King.
"Sir Jidymus," Sarah howled as she spotted Sir Didymus approaching.
"Sarah," Jareth growled with a warning tone. "You know that is not his name."
"I may be a little bit tipsy and struggling with the letter d," Sarah admitted. "Can you give me your d, Jareth?"
Sevlydi snorted, and that set the two of them off again. Sarah collapsed back into the leaves. Tears leaked out of Sarah's eyes at the sharp look on Jareth's face. Sir Didymus gave a low bow before Jareth waved him off.
"So austere," she scolded. "King Jareth of the Goblins, I did not know you were a member of the Temperance League."
"I am a member of royalty"—Jareth placed his hand on his hip—"And so are you, so please comport yourself as one."
Sarah yawned and heaved her inebriated body off the ground a second time. "I didn't drink at my first wedding, so I am making up for the lost time."
"You have been neglecting your guests," he scolded. Sarah frowned at Jareth with consternation and pursed lips, having assumed Jareth was more fun than this. The look on his face, belied his statement, making Sarah think he was more concerned that she had been neglecting him. The phrase 'marriage of convenience' was on the tip of her tongue when she suddenly recalled their passionate kiss. Was he upset that she had bolted after their embrace?
"You know," Sarah began unsteadily, "I can think of many factions that would not be happy that we are married, so perhaps it is best I avoid them."
"You are referring to, of course, that imbecilic dwarf," Jareth inferred. Sarah didn't answer him but started walking unevenly away from him.
"Where are you going?"
"To face my best friend and his judgment," Sarah said over her shoulder.
"What did you have to go and do a thing like that for?" Sarah was right: Hoggle wasn't happy.
"I have my reasons." Sarah sniffed. She couldn't quite remember what they were when she was drunk. "Let's go dance."
Sarah led a very reluctant dwarf to the clearing where the guests were all dancing to the Celtic inspired music. A man that she hadn't seen before—but was identifiably human—was dancing nearby, offered a smile at her. Sarah returned his smile. Perhaps he was laughing at her and Hoggle's attempt to shuffle in time to the harmony.
"Congratulations on becoming the new Goblin Queen," he said to her, over the loud refrain. His brown eyes twinkled in the flickering lights of the torches. Sarah noticed that he was a well-dressed individual donning a periwinkle blue shirt under a white vest and grey pants. He had long dark brown hair, tied up but resting over one shoulder. He wasn't clean-shaven, which gave him a rugged, masculine look.
"Thank you" —she nodded—"I have been the Queen for a while."
"Tonight, surely makes it official," he clarified.
"It makes my marriage official," she corrected. "It changes nothing about my Queenship."
"May I have the honour of a dance?" he asked, his eyes glinting and shining.
The dwarf seemed grateful to be released, so she accepted the man's offer. Hoggle scuttled off into the trees. The dance only involved holding hands, so she was quite comfortable that this was not inappropriate.
"I am Nate by the way," he said as he took her hands. They were warm but lacking in that spark she had become accustomed to whenever Jareth took her hands in his. Sarah recalled the last dance like this where Jareth had been wrapped from head to toe in other women at the Twilight Festival. She wondered how he would feel seeing her dancing with another man; on their wedding day. She was too drunk to feel guilty.
After all, he had flirted rather cruelly with Forsythia.
Nate was talking, but Sarah wasn't listening as her focus had fallen on Jareth standing at the edge of the dancers, a grim look on his face. Sarah laughed at whatever Nate was saying, though she couldn't care less. She suddenly wanted Jareth's arms around her, but his cane caught her eye. He couldn't dance, not with all twirling and spinning called for by the music. It was too fast-paced. She remained dancing with Nate until the music ebbed into a slower pace.
"I must go see my husband," she offered as an explanation, before heading straight to Jareth.
"I see you met Nathanial," Jareth said in the way of a greeting. "He was to be your second-in-charge if you had taken on the embassy role. But after he danced so openly with my wife, while I can not, I will give him a new role."
"Let me guess, he will now be the ambassador to the Bog of Eternal Stench." Sarah rolled her eyes.
"Something like that," Jareth muttered, while Sarah snorted in derision.
"Come"—Sarah held her hand out to him—"dance with me."
"I do not want your pity-dance." Jareth's eyes hardened.
"Oh," Sarah huffed, "why? Is it not fair?"
Jareth narrowed his eyes but shrugged it off. "Lead me to the dance then, wife."
Sarah tugged on his hand until they were in the thick of the dancers, She wrapped her arms around his waist, and he placed one of his hands on her shoulder as they swayed together.
"Why do you want to dance with me?"
Sarah was lost in a drunken haze and Jareth's scent as she lay her head against his chest, almost not hearing his question. "Hmm?"
"Why, after drinking so heavily, do you suddenly want to dance with me?"
"You're my husband, and it is traditional to dance at a wedding."
"When did you give a bog's damn about tradition?" There was a slightly mocking tone to his voice. "You certainly didn't want to kiss me."
"I kissed you," Sarah hissed back, "because I had no jealousy to admit. Can you say the same about me dancing with Nate?"
"I am not ashamed of feeling jealousy when my wife is dancing and laughing in the arms of a man that has two functioning legs," he replied. Sarah glanced down at his leg, and then the cane he was using to guide his steps in their dance.
"You think that I care about that?" Sarah scoffed. "I care that you used Forsythia to try and get a reaction out of me. And I care that you tried to manipulate me into kissing you. Twice. But I do not care if you have one functioning leg, or two, Jareth. I am sure it doesn't stop you from putting your foot in your mouth."
Sarah recalled that the first kiss was meant to be a wager on the moonstone. She cursed herself for having brought up both instances of his manipulation, lest he demand payment for the first wager.
"I wasn't using Forsythia to gain anything from you," he said, with a hearty sigh. "Fae flirt and old habits die hard, as you mortals are fond of saying. I was flirting out of habit."
"Yet, a single dance with a male has warranted this coldness from you," Sarah bit back. "Perhaps I dance with men out of habit."
"It's a bit different when I love you and you—"
Sarah didn't want him to finish his sentence, so for the second time that night, she launched herself at him, kissing his words right out of his mouth. Jareth was stunned so did not react straight away, but gradually his fingers clenched her shoulder harder, and his tongue pushed past the defence of her tongue to score entry into her mouth. Again, he tasted of only the finest honeyed fruits and sweets, making her thirst for more. But before she could truly settle in and enjoy his taste, he pushed her away.
"You are far too drunk, Sarah," he admonished. "You taste of stale wine."
Sarah frowned and released him. "I think it is time you take me home, Goblin King."
"I think that is wise," he said. "I will say a farewell speech as you are in no condition to do it."
Sarah narrowed her eyes at his retreating back, but let him lead her to the forefront of their guests.
Sarah had woken up with a hangover in her own room, devoid of any walking incidents during the night. Maybe copious amounts of alcohol were enough to block unwanted night time travelling. Perhaps Sarah didn't require Jareth to learn how to use the magic after all. She tried sitting up but lay back down with a groan. Or maybe not. The price was a splitting headache and nausea. She realised she was still in her wedding dress. This realisation woke her up, as she shoved her hand down the front of her dress to retrieve the moonstone. Thankfully the gem was still nestled between the fine layers of her dress.
With a huff, she managed to secret the offending stone into a gap in the brickwork, behind a tapestry.
"You have a lot to answer for," she scolded the stone. "If you had been a different shape, I would not have relied so heavily on alcohol to forget about you."
The remainder of the morning crawled in a blur of bathing, vomitus, and frequent urination. After what passed as a hangover meal, Sarah ventured through the tunnel towards Jareth's room. She knew she had to enter and leave his room to keep up appearances, but she was hoping it was so late in the day that he wouldn't be present.
It didn't help that Jareth had removed her door by magic. She had only to wonder how she even made it back to her room last night. The last thing she remembered was Jareth saying a farewell speech, to jeers and innuendo from the crowd, then she woke up in her own bed.
After everything that transpired the day before, especially the two kisses, she was reluctant to face Jareth. She came to the end of the tunnel and inched the door open, listening for any sign of life through the gap. Finding none, she creaked open the panel further and slid through.
"Ah, there is my wife," Jareth said brightly, from an armchair. He was reading a book, with his legs crossed and looking over the rim of his glasses. Had she woken up in some alternative universe where Jareth needed glasses?
"Ah, there is my husband," Sarah croaked through a dry throat.
"Sleep well?"
"Unsure." She shrugged and moved to head out of the room.
"I have postponed our wedding breakfast because of your incapacity," he declared. "It is rather generous of me."
"Your bounty and magnificence know no bounds," Sarah said, saluting him and continuing to the door.
"Indeed." Jareth returned to his book. Sarah exhaled violently through her mouth and left through the door. She instantly wished she stayed in the relative sanctuary of Jareth's room. Scores of goblins lined the corridors cheering and shouting, the sound clamouring against her brain. Sarah paled at the sight of so many rambunctious critters congratulating her, and she slid back inside Jareth's rooms slamming the door.
"Ah, yes," Jareth said without looking up, "I should have warned you about that."
"Fuck you, Jareth." Sarah stalked back towards the door.
"Well, you know what I would say to that idea." Jareth winked.
"You'd say, I wouldn't fuck you if you were the last smelly breathed, hapless mortal on this planet or the next," Sarah retorted petulantly, yesterday's kiss still dwelling in her mind.
"Wishful thinking on your part, I am sure." Jareth turned a page in his book.
"I am going back to bed," Sarah grumbled, as she threw open the panel, "and that is not an invitation."
"Of course not." Jareth turned another page, making her think he wasn't reading at all. "Who would want to fuck a foul-mouthed and foul-breathed hapless mortal?"
"No idea," Sarah muttered, trying to ignore the tears that were threatening to fall at his words.
"I don't want to fuck you, Sarah," he said, as she went over the threshold of the tunnel, "I want to make love to you."
"Urghhh," Sarah slammed the door and went down the tunnel back to her room.
The days trickled by slowly after their wedding; they kept their conversations light and civil, which was draining in of itself. They mostly focussed on royal duties and writing up their wedding announcement to send to other royal families. They included Jareth's family, even though Jareth suspected Forsythia would have told them they were married by now.
They resumed her magical education, concentrating principally on effectively preventing dream-walking now that Sarah was more confident in how to end and leave the episodes. After their training, Sarah refused to stay in his bed and saw the night out in her bed, alone. She didn't spare much time thinking about Jareth's feelings on her departures.
Things had become more complicated since she knew the shape of her moonstone matched his. Her denial became more pronounced.
They had, however, moved on to other areas of magic, and Sarah was learning new skills all the time. Her favourite was she could now open and shut doors without touching them. It made it easier to traverse the castle as she carried stacks of books or parchments.
"What are you reading?" Jareth had appeared out of nowhere, sitting across from her at the large oak table. They were in the library, and Sarah had been studying alone for hours in blissful silence.
"I am reading about how I could rescue Toby as no one else seems to be helping," Sarah answered without looking up.
Jareth grunted in response. "When you had your rather juvenile tantrum the day after our wedding, I happened to be reading that particular book. I am still working out how we could go to him."
Sarah lowered the book and looked at him. "Truly?"
"Truly," he responded. "The past few days have been...fraught, but I am still going to try and keep my promises."
"It was only fraught because—"
"You kissed me twice without meaning it." Jareth arched his brows, his lips twitching downwards.
"Why on earth would I kiss you and mean it?" Sarah shook her head, confused.
Jareth sighed. "So shall we call a truce?"
"I didn't know we were fighting."
"You keep lashing me with your barbed tongue," Jareth pointed out. "More than usual, or you seem intent on avoiding me altogether. There has been no middle ground."
"Everything feels normal to me," Sarah lied. She couldn't really blurt out that her moonstone decreed they should be in love and she was starting to believe it, making her feel even more awkward around her husband. Sarah resolved to keep her secret from Jareth. Admitting to love was akin to defeat, and she wasn't ready to submit. Love shouldn't be predestined.
"If you are willing to make up for your abhorrent kissing, then you are more than welcome to do so." Jareth patted his knee in invitation.
"Abhorrent?"
"The first one was tolerable, but the second one you were drunk." Jareth leant back in his chair. "And you meant neither of them."
"This old chestnut." Sarah threw her book down but instantly regretted it. Books deserved respect. She whispered to the book, "sorry, book."
"Did you just apologise to the book?"
"Yes."
"I see." Jareth crossed his leg over the other and looked away.
"You didn't have to marry me, you know," Sarah reminded him sternly.
"My father would have killed you if you didn't consent to marry me," Jareth mocked, airily. "It was in your best interest to agree."
"Perhaps you should have found someone that you didn't find so taxing to kiss," Sarah jibed.
"You have kissed me and meant it before, Sarah," Jareth said mildly. "Remember, in my bed before my father interrupted us."
"What of it?"
"Perhaps I asked too much to be kissed like that again at our wedding." Jareth shifted in his seat. Sarah ran her finger along the spine of the book she had been reading. He continued, "I can tell when you mean it and when you don't because you already gifted me with a kiss you meant."
"You set conditions on the first kiss of that night." Sarah threw her hands up. "What did you expect me to do? Lie or kiss you?"
"The lie was the kiss," Jareth retorted sharply. "I didn't intend to hurt you by my interactions with Forsythia, but you can't even admit you were jealous. You would rather lie to me with a kiss."
"And how does that make you feel, Jareth?" Sarah asked snarkily.
Jareth sat in thorny silence. His eyes narrowed, and his lips drawn into a thin line. Sarah stared him down, but when he still remained tight-lipped, she flicked her eyes away.
"It feels perplexing and hurtful," he said, his tone lacking the acerbic tints with which Sarah attacked Jareth.
"Can you see how trapping me in a dead-end, wounds you too?" Sarah asked, the barbs removed.
Jareth sighed. "I should not have manipulated you into kissing me."
"You're forgiven."
"So generous." He gave a wry smile. They lapsed back into silence, less stilted than it had been.
"Why did you get so drunk at our wedding?" He looked back at her, his expression softer. "I know you didn't want to marry me, and it is purely a political choice, but surely, we can establish that we are friends? We don't always need to be at odds."
"I had a whole list of reasons," Sarah muttered. "Not all of them have to do with you."
"Am I to be privy to my offences?"
"Aside from orchestrating the kiss, there was also the fact you invited Forsythia, flirted with her, and then handled her so cruelly." Sarah wasn't going to mention the unicorn. She didn't want to suggest or steer the conversation towards the moonstones, or the now absent pearl. Sarah found she had started to miss the pearl she had carried with her for weeks.
"Forsythia," Jareth spat her name out, "would sooner see you dead, than be kind to you. Do not pity her for receiving cruelty from me."
"Why did you invite her?"
"I told you"—Jareth balled his gloved hand into a fist—"she needed to witness my marriage to you so that she can not refute it, and neither can her parents, her relatives, or my wretched family."
"She seemed to think we would be open to a threesome." Sarah laughed.
"And like I said" —Jareth cleared his throat— "she is wrong in that assumption because I am not sharing myself with anyone but you."
Sarah smiled. "At least I know you won't ever shag my best friend as my ex did. I can't see you and Hoggle—"
"Do not go any further with that thought, Sarah mine." Jareth visibly shuddered. "You, my exquisitely barbed Queen, have my fealty, completely and utterly."
"Have you had any more thoughts about how to tackle the Mark situation?"
"I want to tackle the Toby situation first," Jareth replied instantly.
"Surely, the red book is more critical?"
"Your ex-husband had no children?"
"No."
"Then while it is urgent, I would rather focus on Toby as he has been in an awful situation for far longer." Jareth uncrossed his legs and stretched them out in front of him. "Your husb— your ex-husband is unlikely to wish a child away if he doesn't have one."
"What will you do if we can retrieve Toby?"
"House him here, of course." Jareth waved his hand to indicate the castle. "If that is agreeable to you? And him."
"Of course." Sarah sniffed, tears threatening to fall. Jareth rose, walking around the chair towards her. He knelt by her chair, taking her hands in his.
"I wanted to find him as my wedding present to you"— he rubbed his thumbs across the back of her hands— "but all I seem to have done is drive you to drink and then be surly with me for days."
"I haven't got you anything," Sarah said by way of dismissal.
"You got me the greatest gift I could have asked for." He leaned in and kissed the palms of her hands. "You said yes to marrying me. Me, your adversary."
"Jareth, I admit to feeling some jealousy of Forsythia." She closed her eyes so she could imagine she was talking to herself. "You may be an arrogant twat, but you are my arrogant twat. I would very much like your friendship, but you know that is all I can give you right now."
"Sarah, I take what little bit of hope you can give me." He tenderly kissed her wrists. "I keep promising you time then I keep applying pressure. I want your love so much it is excruciating. I will endeavour to be patient, my Precious thing."
Sarah released one of her hands, then ran it through his hair that was now almost back to its original length. "We may be two steps forward, three steps back for a while longer yet, Jareth."
"I know, my love." He closed his eyes to the pleasure of her ministrations. "I will be with you every step of the way forward, and the way back, and the way forward yet again."
Sarah shuffled down the dusty corridor and pushed open the door to enter his room. She did it slowly and gently, as she didn't want to wake Jareth if he was asleep and frighten him. Though, being a fae, he may not have the same kind of nervous system as her. She felt the best approach was with consideration, nevertheless. She closed it behind her and crept around the screen in the darkness.
Only the light of the moon spilling through the open curtains guided her towards Jareth's bed. As it came in sight, she suddenly gasped, spinning away. Jareth was sprawled nude from flyaway hair to naked toe, his hand furiously pumping his cock, his hips arching as he worked. She heard her name uttered from his lips in shuddering gasps.
Furiously hot and flaming, she tried to exit the room through the secret panel, but in her embarrassment, walked straight into the privacy screen.
"Sarah?" came Jareth's voice, laborious after his exertions.
"Jareth, I am so sorry," she muttered, as she straightened the screen in haste. "I should have knocked."
She heard him moving in a manner that suggested he was climbing out of bed. Sarah cringed before she darted through the panel back to her room. He was faster than her however and was directly behind her before she had taken more than two steps.
"Sarah!" His voice was both pleading, and stern. "You are my wife, and you do not have to knock. Please come back and tell me what you want, because you would never have come into my chambers, without a solid reason."
Sarah turned around. He held a crystal that illuminated the dusty old tunnel, but she could still evade looking towards his naked form, by focusing on his feet.
"I am robed, Sarah," he clarified, amusement lacing his tone. Sarah felt her body release its tension. Slightly. She still held onto her mortification at having caught him wanking — if him calling out her name was anything to go by — over her.
"I should have knocked," she repeated. "I just didn't want to wake you up suddenly, so I was trying to be quiet."
"Sarah"—Jareth reached out and held her elbow, steering her back to his chamber—"you do not have to keep justifying yourself. My rooms are technically yours, and even if they weren't, I would never deny you a late-night visit."
"I can assure you that wasn't why I was visiting," Sarah retorted hastily.
"Pity." She could tell he grinned as he said this. Jareth led her to his bed, and she sat down, perched precariously on the side, while he leant back against the headboard, legs stretched out, arms behind his head. Jareth may be clothed, but she wasn't going to make eye-contact with him.
"I am not my father," he started as she tried to push away her embarrassment, her arousal and the fuzzy feeling in her brain after witnessing such a scene. "He would never let his wives enter his domain without permission, and if they had done what you just did, they would have witnessed his adultery with another courtesan or another noble. That man was never faithful."
"Your poor mother," Sarah said the only thing she could think of to say, despite not being particularly fond of her either.
"Don't pity her, Precious," he said and then sighed dramatically. Adding as an afterthought, "she was just as bad. They all are."
"It still surprises me that you do not approve."
"I did in my youth," he admitted. "I partook in a very promiscuous lifestyle, as you are well aware. Things change, and though the fae folk are slow to growth, I believe that I have outgrown that particular life."
'Not enough to stop wanking,' Sarah thought with amusement.
"I still have desires, Sarah," he said as if he had read her mind, "but they are rather singular now."
"Please tell me you don't scry for people while you..." Sarah faltered, still hazy from her arousal.
"While I wank?" He grinned at her. "Peace, Sarah. I won't take what you don't offer freely, I have told you this. It would arouse me more if you enthusiastically granted me a moment, than if I stole it voyeuristically."
Sarah was grateful for the half-light in the room that allowed her to flush without being observed too intimately. Not just because he was talking about what arouses him, but also the comfortable way he spoke about wanking like he wasn't ashamed of having been caught.
"There is no shame in what you caught me doing, Sarah," he said as if he had read her mind yet again. "I apologise for having embarrassed you, however."
"I should have knocked," she repeated, wanting desperately to disappear into the ground.
"Don't fear any repercussions, precious," Jareth said, inspecting his bare hand. "I will always knock before I enter your room. I suspect you would feel abashed if I likewise walked in on you."
Sarah just covered her beetroot-red face with her hands and groaned.
"You do please yourself, though, don't you?" he asked, leaning forward with interest. "It has been a long time since your mortal husband."
"I didn't come in here to discuss my..." Sarah stalled. "...My intimate life with you."
"Who better than your husband, especially when you just caught him masturbating to thoughts of his wife?" he asked, shifting across the bed to sit directly beside her. Sarah felt Jareth's body heat as if he was touching her with his hands. Waves of desire crashed through her, and she groaned again.
"Yes," she admitted, looking directly in his eyes as courage gripped her. "I masturbate."
Jareth nodded, looking pleased, but interestingly, not in a smug way. "Good, I am glad to hear. Now tell me, do you ever think of me when you touch yourself?"
Jareth's hands lay on his lap, and Sarah noticed as he asked the question, they had tensed, with the fingertips digging into the soft material of his silk robe. He may be arrogant, but he seemed unsure about himself in this regard, of late. Sarah had given him very little reason to feel self-satisfied, she supposed. She focused on his naked hand as she thought about how to answer.
"You know I only ever think about you," Jareth continued, filling the awkward silence. "I am feeling generous tonight, so you don't have to answer if you would rather not, but —"
"Yes." Sarah shifted her gaze from his thighs and hands, back to his face. "Yes, I give myself satisfaction while thinking of you."
She heard Jareth swallow, noticing his hands were now fists balled into his lap, his eyes dark, his nostrils flared.
"Precious thing," he murmured, closing his eyes.
"Jareth?" Sarah placed her hand on his thigh, Jareth instantly shot his eyes open, to look first at her hand, and then at her face. "About why I am here in your chambers in the first place?"
Jareth chuckled. "You're not here to make all my dreams come true, then?"
"Not tonight," Sarah answered vaguely.
"Then, by all means, enlighten me." Jareth placed his hand over the hand still resting on his thigh. Sarah's mind had turned to mush; aroused, sensual slush. The contact had nerves flaring, and muscles deliciously fluttering. She inhaled deeply to resume oxygen intake and to get her blood flowing again.
"I went future-walking," Sarah informed him. "I was able to leave when I wanted, but what I saw... I had to let you know."
"I thought you were now proficient in blocking out intrusive walking states?" Jareth raised his brow. He continued in a bitter tone, "that's why you went back to sleeping by yourself."
"Yes," Sarah replied, snappily, "I allowed it. It was rather pushy, and I was curious. But do you want to know what I saw?"
"You shouldn't allow it while you're learning," Jareth growled. "What if you got stuck and—"
"Jareth!" Sarah pinched the bridge of her nose. "Thank you for your concern, but I am safe here, aren't I?"
He looked away and sighed. "Yes, so what did you see?"
"Your father declares war on us, and the Eastern side of our kingdom is razed"— Sarah's hand flinched under the pressure of Jareth's who still held it tight—"which means Ghent, Jareth."
"We will send extra patrols out that way, and your friends can stay with us," he offered. "We will ensure accommodation for all Ghentian refugees if this comes true. Currently, your friends at Cloverfield are already protected by my magic, from when Terry first visited you there."
"I didn't think this could wait for the morning," she said with a sigh. She didn't want to jump into a conversation about Terry. "I couldn't sleep knowing what our future may hold."
"You were right to tell me." He squeezed her hand. "We will discuss it more in the morning."
"Thank you." Sarah patted his knee, before rising to leave. "I feel better just having told someone."
She headed to the door, aware that Jareth was again following her.
"Sarah, before you go, may I please ask a favour?" Jareth propped himself up against the wall staring intensely at her, a crystal forming in his hand. He was blocking her exit out of the room, so she stood awkwardly between his bed and him.
"Yes?" Sarah bit her lip, uncertain where he would take it. "You can ask, but I may not agree with the favour."
"Just so," he said, grinning, his sharp teeth slightly visible. "As I said, I would not scry for you without your say so, and I won't. Sarah, may I have your consent?"
Sarah flushed brilliant red, darting her eyes away. "You want to watch me while I..."
"Precisely." He pushed off from the wall and closed the gap between them. His voice lowered to a murmur, "and you can have one too so that I can repay the favour."
He held out a crystal to her. Sarah stared at it with so many questions.
"You just have to tap it, when you grant me permission," he explained. "And then it will show you me while I see you. Any time you want to end transmission, you just have to say no or tap it."
Sarah eyed the ball warily. It was simultaneously tempting and mortifying. Jareth watching her while she masturbated was a tremendous turn on as well as incredibly uncomfortable.
"I know you humans have shame about sex." Another step closer. "I am not judging you for either choice. You must know I find you the most attractive and desirable creature I have ever been fortunate enough to encounter. And you happen to be my wife, that I can't touch. Please do this for me but also let me do this for you. You admit you think of me while you seek pleasure. This way, we can both get what we want without intimacy or emotional obligation that is at present so insulting to you."
Jareth was a breath away from her now. His eyes darkened as he searched Sarah's face for an answer. She glanced down at the crystal. Without making eye contact, Sarah seized the sphere, instantly bolting and fleeing Jareth's presence.
Jareth grinned wildly as Sarah ran off, leaving him alone. It was a positive development that she took the crystal. She admitted she desired him, and that was a step in the right direction. While he was happy to play the long game with building her trust, he didn't see any harm nudging her along. Jareth didn't think she would use it though. Taking it and running away with it was one thing, but consenting to mutual voyeuristic masturbation was another thing. He lay back on his bed, willing to grant her time to consent, but if Sarah didn't use it, then he was just going to go ahead and finish himself off anyway. Seeing Sarah with desire visible on her face, as well as only dressed in her nightclothes did not provide succour with his unsatisfied state; he was even more painfully aroused.
Jareth had just closed his eyes when the crystal hummed. He opened his eyes to see the crystal floating above him. Blood rushed instantly to all the right places as he watched her through the crystal lying in her bed. She was still clothed, but she was starting to touch her body over her nightdress; running her hands down her sides, and cautiously over her breasts. Jareth groaned at the sight of her almost innocent touching, as his own hands mimicked her exact movements, across his stomach, along his thighs, then back up, across the hips, avoiding any of the erogenous zones.
Sarah's confidence would come, Jareth was sure. She was avoiding looking at her crystal, but slowly she looked up at it, her eyes dark with desire. She was biting her lip most tantalisingly, as she started undoing the ties at the front of her dress. Jareth did the same, slipping out of his nightshirt and flinging it away. His cock was straining now, and she was still showing no skin.
"The power you have over me, Precious," he grunted under his breath as he moved to stroke his nipples. He saw her gasp as she discerned this movement, and a thrill shot through him. He was used to fae desiring him but had grown bored of their interest. Seeing Sarah react so delightfully to his desire, fuelled his no end. If he had been touching his cock, he was sure he would have come straight away at the sight of her, clothed, but trembling with anticipation and arousal. Loving someone for the first time in his long history, made his attraction to her all the more tangible. Oh, he wished he was there with her.
Sarah couldn't believe she was doing this. As the last of the fastenings came unlaced, Sarah gently eased her nightgown free, discarding it on the floor. She now lay exposed upon her bed, gazing up at the orb wavering above her, like she was some kind of offering. Sarah brought her legs up to give some modesty to her lower half. She noted Jareth's apparent approval and desire as she lay nude, her hands exploring her body. Sarah gained courage as Jareth copied her actions. She swallowed her nerves, having been overtaken by her lust. Her hands commenced caressing and massaging her breasts, gently pinching her nipples, willing him to take the lead.
He didn't. Sarah could see him arching his back, biting his lip and trembling, but he still hadn't touched below the belt. His trousers remained on him.
"Take your goddamn trousers off," Sarah ordered heatedly, thinking he wouldn't hear her.
"As you wish, Precious." His voice emitted from the crystal, clearly and heavy with desire. Sarah recoiled at first, but then laughed, as he winked at her. She watched him lick his lips, then run his hands down across his flat stomach, hooking his thumbs into the top of his night pants. Sarah longed to touch Jareth's taut stomach for herself but contented herself with watching. She felt liquid arousal gush from inside her, as Jareth freed his penis from the confines of his trousers. It slapped against his stomach, big, hard and angry. After that sizeable obstacle was out of the way, Jareth then slid his slacks off his legs with ease.
"See what you do to me, precious," he groaned, taking himself in hand. "What do I do to you, I wonder?"
Sarah gasped at the sudden onslaught of heat to the pivotal parts of her body. "You turn me on, Jareth."
"Sarah," he moaned, holding himself with a still hand. "If you don't want to hear me or you don't want me to hear from you, you can ask the crystal to 'mute'."
Sarah swallowed. "Jareth, do you want to hear me?"
"Oh, so very much, love." He bit his lips and closed his eyes. Sarah wanted to hear her effect on him, that was for sure. He continued, "tell me what you want me to do to myself."
Sarah was stroking her stomach, just below her tummy button, but at Jareth's words, her hand started drifting further south. Without answering his question, Sarah ran two fingers around the outside of her vulva, eliciting a low moan from both of them, as his hands started moving slowly in conjunction with her. As he pumped from shaft to tip, she dipped two fingers in between her soft folds.
"Sarah, open your legs wider, love." His head fell back, and his eyes fluttered. Sarah felt another wave of desire at his constant use of the word 'love.' She eased her legs open with her free hand, while her occupied digits dipped into her vagina to lubricate her clit.
"So swollen and wet, Sarah." His thumb rubbed over the tip of his cock, glistening with his need. Sarah couldn't take it anymore, and with a loud groan, she rubbed a single finger over her clit, while she eased another finger from her other hand into her opening. Hooking her finger inside as far as she could reach, and then furiously stroking her clit, had the effect of making Jareth move his hand faster. Jareth repeated her name over and over as he moved quicker. Sarah could barely keep her eyes open to watch him much longer, as already her muscles were starting to tense and tighten.
Both of them were breathing erratically, as they watched each other with hooded eyes. Sarah saw the power she had over him. She wasn't even touching him, and she had this potent effect on him.
That thought was enough to send her over the edge. "Jareth, I am going to c—"
She stilled her finger inside her vagina and sped up the finger stimulating her clit until her rings of muscles clenched and then released in waves of pleasure.
As Sarah's orgasm was still pulsing through her body, Jareth reached his, spurting hot strings across his stomach with a shout of her name, followed by heavy panting. His dark eyes never left hers, his hand still holding his cock as come dripped down across his fingers. Mortification crept in as the afterglow of pleasure decreased.
"Sarah, I l—" Jareth started between panted breaths, but Sarah threw her pillow at the orb, causing it to go clear, then dropping onto her bedspread, heavily. Consent revoked; she didn't need to hear his profession of love after what they just did.
Sarah slept very well that night. When she woke, she was less mortified about the events during the night and more than a little aroused by the memory. The temptation to use the crystal again was making her clit throb. Ignoring it, she climbed out of bed and started the day. Jareth's room was empty when she entered it, and so she headed straight out the door.
Breakfast was in the dining room with both Jareth and Sevlydi. Both of them were there when she entered. Jareth looked her up and down, and smirked at her blatant blush spreading from her cheeks, down her neck. Sarah rubbed her cheek as if it would wipe the crimson hue away. She took a deep breath and seated herself in her chair like the Queen she was.
"Good morning, Your Majesty." Sevlydi winked at her. He was unusually sober, despite the wedding and the days after passing in alcohol-fuelled sulking. Sarah greeted him, politely back and started tucking into her meal. She casually looked up to find Jareth's eyes honed in on her, dark and inscrutable. She returned his stare, unwaveringly. His attention earnt her a twinge at her centre. She tucked her hair behind her ears, and he deliberately and tantalisingly ran the tip of his tongue over his front teeth.
Jareth delved into conversation with Sevlydi about Sarah's vision of the future war. Sarah piped in when necessary, but when the conversation lapsed again, Jareth smirked and Sarah fidgeted in her seat.
"So you two are delightfully self-conscious today," Sevydi singsonged.
"Are we?" Jareth asked, indifferently before taking a bite of his toast. "I am not sure how to act self-consciously. Am I doing it right? Well, I must be if that's what you're seeing."
"Well, Sarah is certainly uncomfortable." Sevlydi glanced at her.
"She always is around me." Jareth grinned at her. "I have that effect on her. Isn't that right, darling?"
Sarah could elect to let herself be embarrassed by this, or own it. She chose the latter. She laughed, blew him a kiss and replied with, "unquestionably, my darling."
"See"—Jareth waved his toast at his brother—"she is just squirming in anticipation of my touch."
"Indubitably," Sarah teased back. "I want your hands and mouth all over me."
Sevldyi groaned. "On that note, I think I have finished breakfast."
"Don't start something, you don't intend to finish, Sev," Jareth warned, taking a deep sip of his coffee. "My wife is learning to play the game."
Sevlydi stalked out of the room, Jareth leant in closer and murmured, "if only you spoke the truth, my love."
"Yes, if only." Sarah blew on her hot coffee. "I wonder what you would do with that 'truth' when you have it."
"Good question!" Jareth smirked before he too left.
She had been in the library for about an hour when she felt a presence. She looked up to see Jareth lying on the couch near her. He was propped up on cushions, dropping grapes into his mouth.
"I would use that truth to bring you to heights of pleasure you have never reached before," he said without looking at her. "I would be a slave to your satisfaction. I would have you addicted to my hands and lips, so you would never want for anyone else's touch. After last night, you can't argue you don't want it."
Sarah's brain turned to mush as he spoke, her eyes drawn to both his hands and his mouth. She couldn't think of a single thing to say. Her feelings were ineffable, and her response was a single utterance of "ugh." Sex and love were different anyway, so what difference did it make if she sought gratification from him, without giving him her love?
She decided it would make no difference as she watched his eyes close with delight at the taste of the grapes. Impulsively, she left her book behind and headed over to where Jareth reclined upon the sofa. She picked up a grape and slowly drew it into her mouth. Jareth's eyes flicked open to watch her. She bit it in half, then popped the other half into his slightly gaping mouth. His lips closed around her fingers, drawing them in with a light suck before he released her.
"I thank you for last night." Jareth's voice was husky. "Did you want me touching you?"
Sarah didn't answer him. Instead, she kneeled beside him and ran her hands through his hair. She lightly trailed her fingers down the side of his face, and across his collarbone. Her fingertip outlined his medallion, before heading down the centre of his shirt, across his buttons. She slid her hands under his garment and started running them up to his chest.
"Don't start something that you can't finish," Jareth moaned as her fingers moved over his nipples. "Will you kiss me, Sarah?"
"No." Sarah swiftly moved her hands down to his waistline. "Only hands, today."
Sarah could see his cock was already hard, so tenderly she slid her hand under the waistband. She wrapped her fingers around Jareth's shaft, her nails scraping slightly against his skin as she went.
"Sarah," he breathed, as her hand moved past his cock to caress his balls. Jareth impatiently thrust into the air, releasing himself from his trousers. It was one thing, seeing Jareth in a crystal, it was quite another to see him in his full glory. She felt the imbalance of being fully clothed while he lay on the couch in front of her, deliciously naked, save for his boots and pendant. She cupped his balls, squeezing them lightly, before rubbing her thumb over the base of his cock. As he groaned, she moved her hand agonisingly slowly up the entirety of his erection, her thumb pressing along the veins on the underside.
Sarah turned her attention away from his throbbing cock, to look at his face. He was studying her through half-closed eyes, panting openly. As her hand reached the sensitive tip, he bit his lower lip to stifle a groan. Jareth's hand came and rested upon her shoulder, caressing her neck with his fingertips. She swirled her fingertips around his tip, watching as beads of his desire leaked out. Sarah resisted the temptation to lick them away. She licked her lips in place of his cock, an action that didn't go unnoticed by Jareth as his grip tightened on her shoulder.
Sarah's free hand had been unconsciously rubbing herself through her clothing. She pulled that hand away and used it to touch his face, his hair, his chest and his taut stomach. She alternated between scraping her nails across his skin, to rubbing and kneading him. Her other hand was still languidly drawing up and down his cock. Jareth's groans and thrusts changed her idle motions to more deliberate jerks, twisting at the end.
"Sarah," Jareth grunted, his body shaking as she worked his penis. Without warning, the trembling ceased, and he thrust his hips up one last time before he spilt all over Sarah's hand and his navel. Jareth lay there panting with his eyes closed, worrying his lips with his teeth. After a few minutes, he moaned and opened his eyes. He focused his slightly dazed look on her, before murmuring "you are incredible."
Sarah was still holding his penis and felt it start to swell again in her hand. She let go and rose to find something with which to clean her hand.
"Here, let me," Jareth offered as he sat up, waving his hand over hers, cleaning it instantly. Then he did the same to himself. Jareth still had her hand in his so he yanked lightly on it, bringing her sprawling into his lap. He chuckled at her startled expression before he nuzzled his nose into her neck. "It's your turn, my love."
Jareth shifted her, so she sat with both legs on one side. He wrapped one arm around her waist and brought the other one up under her skirt and up her leg. His face was still buried in her neck, kissing her skin softly and occasionally flicking out his tongue to taste her. His hand was now stroking her inner thigh, tantalisingly close, but not close enough to where she needed his hand. Her undergarments were all but dripping from the arousal she gained from bringing Jareth to his pleasure.
"Sarah, I am going to remove these infernal things by magic." He tugged on her knickers, which were more like boxer shorts than modern-day female underwear. Sarah grunted in response. She felt chill air hit her nether regions as her knickers ceased to exist. Jareth's hand started its unending journey back up her thighs, causing a moan to be teased out of her as his knuckles brushed lightly against her curls.
"It is like seeing divinity itself to have you trembling in my lap," Jareth mumbled into her neck, his sharp teeth snagging softly on her tender skin.
"Jareth," Sarah keened as he palmed her mound, her hands gripping onto his leg on one side and the back of the sofa with the other.
"Don't fret, Sarah." His hand tightened around her waist, stroking her reassuringly. "You were generous with me, so I will not drag this out for you."
As he said 'generous' he thrust a finger between her lips and folds to seek out her clit. Her breathing hitched and desire flooded her system in torrents. He circled the bundle of nerves a few times, before dipping into her centre, and replacing his finger with a thumb on her sensitive spot. His movements were slow and agonising as he pulled his finger in and out of her. Sarah moaned and rocked her hips until he added a second finger and increased the speed of his lazy circles around her clit.
The sensations were so sharp, Sarah could feel her stomach convulse with every sweep of his thumb. She opened her eyes to see Jareth's intense look, desire imprinted on his face as he watched her. Jareth with his voice, low and sensuous and almost pleading, asked her to come for him. It wasn't so much what he said, but the way he said it, that tipped her over the edge. She tossed her head back as her climax spiralled through her body, more substantial than she had ever felt it before. Jareth eased his finger out but kept his thumb in place to ride out the rest of her orgasm. He left an open-mouthed kiss on her neck as she flopped bonelessly against his body.
Jareth brought his hand out from under her skirts and wrapped it around her waist to join his other arm. Sarah could feel Jareth's fresh erection against her bottom, causing her final aftershock to pulse vigorously. She bit her lip as she tried to steady her breathing again.
It took her a while to realise Jareth was singing in her ear as he held her. "I'll paint you mornings of gold, I'll spin you Valentine evenings…"
A/N: Long-awaited smut.
Thank you to everyone who has commented and subscribed. I hope a certain person noticed my subtle-not-subtle Joggle reference in here. *blows kiss* And my less subtle but still very subtle (haha) Jidymus reference. ;)