"A photographer is aware of the tiny moments in a person's life that reveal greater truths." – Jareth Ó Rourke
Several weeks later, Sarah was playing her violin in the music room. It was a room with high, narrow windows that rose up about two stories. It had the feel of a conservatory about it, as Sarah had filled it with lots of sun loving plants. There was a grand piano in there, Jareth's guitars, and her violin.
Sarah had been singing and playing music for the baby almost from the time that she knew she was pregnant. Right now she was playing Brahms - Violin Sonata No. 3.
Written late in the composer's career, this final violin sonata contains all the melancholic splendour one would imagine, but also some of Brahms' sweetest melodies. Played well, it sweeps the violinist along just as much as the audience.
Sarah loved Brahms, and was caught up in this, her favorite piece of his. She was swaying back-and-forth with the music.
Jareth heard the beautiful notes and made his way to the music room. Once there, he was stopped short of entering by what he saw.
His beautiful, dark-haired wife was playing in front of the windows. Early morning sunshine poured through. Her nightdress was long, with long puffy sleeves. Her hair was down. The sun shone through the creamy fabric, and he saw her body in silhouette. It was an absolutely poetic vignette, and she had no idea that she had created it.
She had her eyes closed while she was playing, and didn't see him. He quickly walked to the Royal Chambers and brought out one of his cameras. The technology Above never ceased to amaze him, and photography had been one of his many interests, almost from the time the first camera was created.
As he headed down the hallway back toward the room, he could still hear her playing. Good. He was hoping to catch some candid shots, and didn't want her to feel self-conscious or shy.
He was able to get in almost 8 shots before she realized that he was there and stopped playing. Her thick, dark brows knitted. "What are you doing?" She asked quietly.
His tone was apologetic. "I didn't mean to startle you, love. I was walking past the doorway when I looked in to see you playing. It was a perfect image – the sunshine shining through your gown, the beautiful silhouette underneath, your gorgeous long hair, and you playing the violin… it was magical. Look."
He held out the camera to her where she could scroll through those first few shots. They were beautiful. Jareth was a fine photographer. This would be a lovely gift for the baby sometime when she was older.
"No, you didn't bother me. The photos are gorgeous. That's a little amazing, actually, if you consider that I haven't even brushed my hair this morning…"
Jareth ran his hand gently through her hair to touch the left side of her face, and tucked it behind one ear.
His eyes looked so deeply into hers. "No. You look perfect. Could I get some more shots?"
"I — guess so. "What should I do?"
"Just keep playing right where you are," he said. He moved one of the taller palms nearby so that it was bordering the image on one side. "Go ahead, keep playing. Don't mind me."
Morning turned into afternoon as they continued the impromptu photo shoot. This time, Jareth held Sarah with her arms wrapped around her belly, below it, and musing into the standing mirror. These photos were also taken from the side, where one could see the baby bump quite clearly now.
He stepped behind her, and she looked up at him. "Do you mind? I have an idea. I want you to continue gazing into the mirror, keeping your chin down just a little more." His hands came to rest on the sides of her belly, almost like he were holding the baby. Tiny motes of dust floated through the sunlight almost like stars. They took several pictures that way. Jareth never had to worry about much expensive equipment, he did quite well with relatively cheap cameras and his own magic and artistry.
Sarah felt cool air and a soft brush against her cheek. He had taken his wings out. They were down, but reached up somewhere near his hands, looking as if they were protecting the baby. Now this was a picture that would blow peoples' minds back home, she thought. They went to the Royal Chambers where Sarah held her nightgown up over her baby bump. Jareth knelt in front of her, cradling her belly and kissing it. These were also beautiful shots, and he added some filters to soften the effect.
They were both laughing and having so much fun with this. Sarah had wanted a baby book that began with pictures of her daughter before she was even born, and most of these photos would be in that book. Some of them were just beautiful, private shots for her and Jareth.
One of those private shots was in Flidais' Woods adjacent to the gardens. Jareth had made sure that it would remain private. Sarah removed the top of her nightgown but let it hang just on her hips below her belly. Jareth stood behind her, holding her breasts in his hands. An erotic picture, to be sure, but nothing was technically shown.
She arched her back, leaning her head back on his shoulder. More shots.
He bent down to kiss her neck, her eyes were closed, her face was a masterpiece of ecstatic beauty. More shots.
She put the gown back on, and the two of them stood face-to-face in the lane of the woods. They tipped their foreheads together and held hands. The sun behind them created a radiant halo around the image.
He picked her up as if she weighed nothing, holding her like a bride. Her head rested on his shoulder, eyes closed. His eyes were looking directly into the camera.
"Well, love, what do you think about this so far? I think we've got some beautiful pictures to work with."
She opened her eyes and smiled at him. "I don't suppose we could try some more things back in the Royal Chambers? Things that might involve me taking my gown off, and your hands on parts of my body…"
"You read my mind, Precious. I'm assuming these are going to be more private shots, correct?"
"Mmmm. No. What I'm thinking of will not involve cameras —"
He looked into her eyes, the trace of a smile around his lips. "May I carry you there, my love?"
She rested her head back on his shoulder, looking up at him with her large green eyes. "Please. Sire."
One spectacular eyebrow raised up. "Sire? I quite like that. You may call me Sire whenever you like, my Queen."
"You talk too much, Sire," she smiled. "Let's go!"
~~~Ó~~~
Several hours later, Jareth stepped out of the royal chambers. Sarah was still in bed, taking a nap.
He headed downstairs, to the throne room. On his way he passed the dining hall. Sitting there, finishing their lunch, were his sister Eimile, cousin Finn, and Finn's significant other, Ixonia. Ixonia was going through some modern medical training, as well as herbology. She would also be in attendance at the birth.
Finn raised his wine glass to Jareth. "And here's to the King. And his magnificent prowess. No wonder you two conceived so quickly! Your Queen must be exhausted!" He winked at Jareth.
"Quite the opposite," said Jareth, sliding into a chair. He rested his elbows on the table. "She is exhausting me!"
"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that," said Finn. "The great Goblin King, worn out by a little slip of a human
woman? All of my expectations of you are ruined."
"Yes, well, you're not dealing with a part Fae, Immortal woman with hormones that could fuel a Formula One race car. Let me know when you get to that point and we can talk."
Finn chuckled, and Jareth slapped his palm across his forehead. "Lunch! We invited you to lunch today! I'm sorry. We both completely forgot."
Eimile raised her eyebrows to him and smiled. "We thought as much. You two are like bunnies lately. It's amazing you get anything done!"
Ixonia smiled at him and gently pushed a glass of wine toward him. Jareth took it gratefully, and she said, "We have plates saved for you both. The kitchen staff is keeping them warm."
Jareth nodded. "Thank you. And again, I apologize. Finn, do you have some time this evening? I'm going to be meeting with the Dwarven council tomorrow about this pending Formorian problem, and I would like you there."
Suddenly Sarah approached from around the corner. She was barefoot, wearing a lovely silk robe, and had romantically messy hair. "Love? You need to come back to bed…"
She stopped short when she saw the three guests at the table. "Oh. Was that today? I completely forgot. Sorry." she didn't sound sorry at all.
Draping herself around her husband's shoulders, she gently touched his lower lip with an index finger and purred. "Let's go back up. I have even more things we can try…" And taking his hands, she pulled him out of his chair and toward the doorway, completely ignoring her guests.
As Jareth was being dragged out of the room, he put one hand on the door frame to stop her. Looking back at the three sitting at the table, he silently mouthed, "Help Me!" And then vanished.
Eimile and Finn's unsympathetic laughter rang through the castle.
~~~Ó~~~
Hours later still, there was a soft knocking on the Royal Chambers door. By the sound of it, the door was being knocked on about 18 inches from the bottom. A soft little voice called out:
"Queen Sarah! Queen Sarah, it's me, Spam! I has some yummy nibbly things for you. You has been in bed all day and Spam thought you might be hungry. The baby must be hungry. Can I come in?"
Jareth was touched by this little goblin's concern for his wife and child. He stood up to answer the door and just as his hand was on the latch he heard a great crashing and clanging as Spam had obviously toppled her tray of nibbly things all over the hallway.
He turned around and looked at Sarah, a chagrined look on his face. She had to cover her mouth so that her laughter wouldn't hurt Spam's feelings.
Once Jareth had the door open, he saw poor little Spam on her knees, frantically picking up bits of food, cutlery, and shattered dinnerware. There was another, smaller goblin, who was scavenging for food on the floor, even though Spam kept trying to swat him away. She hung her head when she saw Jareth.
"Spam?" He said quietly. "What have you got there?"
She didn't know what to say. Unlike any of the other goblins, Spam had taken it upon herself to watch out for her master and mistress' well-being. Before Sarah, her Kingy was quite cranky and very difficult to help. But now because of Queen Sarah, he was a very different Kingy. Spam still did not know what to say, though.
Looking down at her destroyed efforts to provide nutrition to her Queen, Spam mumbled something incoherently.
Jareth smiled kindly. He knew she was just trying to help. He shocked Spam by kneeling on the floor with her, and picking up the broken ceramics and silverware.
"Since he seems so willing, let's let Mumble clean up the food scraps from the floor, shall we? Her ladyship has a plate of food waiting for her in the kitchen. We can get that."
Spam exhaled in relief and beamed at Jareth. "And Kingy needs something to eat, too," she said. She hoped she wasn't pushing things too far.
"Don't worry about me. I have one as well, but I'll be eating in my office. Do you feel you can carry Queen Sarah's dinner to her?"
She nodded vigorously and scampered away down the hall. Jareth was extremely appreciative of her efforts, especially now. He took the main staircase down to the foyer, then his office. Finn was already waiting there for him.
Jareth's face was grim as he shut the door. Finn, looking at him, was uncharacteristically serious. He was concerned, actually.
"So the Formorians are truly beginning to appear a threat?" Almost incredulously.
"Yes," replied Jareth. "So much so that we need everyone to begin taking this seriously or our world as we know it might be completely destroyed.
~~~Ó~~~
The Fomorians (Old Irish: Fomoire, Modern Irish: Fomhóraigh) are a supernatural race in Irish mythology. They are often portrayed as hostile and monstrous beings who come from the sea or underground. They are enemies of Ireland's first settlers and opponents of the Tuatha Dé Danann, the other supernatural race in Irish mythology and Jareth's people. However, their relationship with the Tuath Dé is complex and some of their members intermarry and have children.
The Fomorians seem to have been gods who represent the harmful or destructive powers of nature; deformed personifications of chaos, darkness, death, blight and drought. The Tuath Dé, in contrast, seem to represent the gods of growth and civilization.
The second Battle of Mag Tuired was fought between the Fomorians under Balor of the Evil Eye and the Tuatha Dé under Lugh – Jareth's grandfather. When the two forces met on the field of battle, it was said that to attack the fierce Fomorian flank was like striking a head against a cliff, placing a hand into a serpent's nest, or facing up to fire. Balor killed King Nuada of the Tuatha dé with his terrible, poisonous eye that killed all it looked upon. Lugh faced the evil Balor who happened to be his grandfather, driving a spear through the eye out the back of his head, wreaking havoc on the Fomorian army behind. After Balor's death the Fomorians were defeated and driven into the sea.
For eons, it was assumed that the evil, destructive and chaotic Formorians were no more. However, there are signs appearing all over The Underground, including Jareth's kingdom,that they are returning.