Chapter.3: Fever Dreams and Pain .
The rooms that Jareth had claimed for his own, were large and airy, tall gothic windows letting wedges of light in, illuminating the magnificent bed and the overstuffed seating area occupying half of the room, yet leaving the rest off the sparsely furnished room in deep sheltering shadows.
Wringing out a fresh cool cloth, Sarah gentle wiped the sweat from Jareth's brow, drawing a low pain filled moan from his narrow lips as the cloth caught on the ragged skin at his temple.
" Sssch Jareth I'm sorry, but we are almost done now, just one more nail, then you can rest."
The stench of blood was strong enough to choke on as Sarah pushed Jareth's shoulders into the pile of soft furs once more, giving the gnarled old healer room to pull the final cold iron nail from the feeble withering flesh beneath his blood slicked hands.
Jareth's head jerked from side to side, his wide open eyes brimming with anguish and tears as he pleaded. " No No No please leave me be, it hurts... please Sarah... don't let them... please...please... Sarah! "
His cry were weak, barely louder than a spoken word, as he clung to her arms staring at her with a gaze that didn't see her, only moments before his mismatched eyes fluttered shut once more, leaving a limp weight to rest in the furs beside her.
Ancient wooden hands spread the thick waxy white ointment generously across the top off Jareth's taunt torn abdomen with a faint creak, sealing the last of the wounds, before smoothing a white bandage across his body, and securing it with a clear sticky resin.
Apparently satisfied with his handiwork, the healer stepped back and bowed low.
" That was the last your majesty, now all that remains, is for his highness to heal from this horrendous ordeal. Will your majesty remain by his highness bedside? or will it please your majesty to retire to you own chambers, for some rest."
"No, I will stay here, he. .. needs me, oh and I am no majesty, I'm just, well Sarah... ok? just Sarah.."
Uncertainty flooded the healers narrowed, rat black eyes, as he bowed once more, obviously trying to buy himself time as he tried to read this strange mortal girl, to whom the broken king clung to with such desperation.
"Aaahm yes your maje... aahm Sarah, I am most pleased to make your acquaintance, but it is not seemly for me to address you so informally, if his highness should hear he will be most displeased with me... "
Gentle patting the ageing healer's hand Sarah smiled encouragingly:" Leave him to me, and don't worry about him ok. But to answer your question again, yes I will be staying by his side, I'm afraid to leave him, if..."
" I understand my lady... I mean Sarah, and as you are staying there are a few things you will need to know..."
. . . . .
The Labyrinth spread out below her, every twist and dead-end visible from her lofty perch on the windowsill, even now she could smell the bog as the wind changed, but the stench disturbed her far less than the reek of blood that enveloped the curled up body obscured by heavy furs.
At first they had lain the freshly treated king upon the sumptuous four-poster bed, but his back had barely touched the heavy silken covers before he had begun tossing and moaning, reopening some of his wounds forcing them to re-stitch them before they moved him back to the furs.
And that had quickly proven to be the wiser choice, as Jareth had managed to sleep peacefully for the last few hours.
Leaning back against the sun warm stone Sarah sighed, as the sounds of his laboured breath drew her eyes once more.
Torn pale skin showed where the furs had slipped down his back, and a weak tremor had begun at his raw shoulders and were traveling down his wiry body, making his teeth clatter with the force of the cold suffusing him.
Sliding slowly from the sill, Sarah moved silently to his side, and kneeling on the softness of the fur she pulled the blankets tighter around him with a look of unease on her pretty face. Resting a slender hand on his brow, she was struck by the icy chill of his flesh, it was like touching meat straight from her dorm refrigerator.
"Shit, you are way too cold Jareth, I need to warm you up... ok young man I hope your rep' will survive this."
Sarah didn't fully remember who had told her that body heat was the best way to warm up a sick individual, but right now she was simple too tired to come up with anything better.
She had after all been up for close to two days as they had struggled to keep the thoroughly broken fey breathing long enough for the healers to do what little they could for him.
Pulling her sodden and sweaty hoodie off Sarah sighed as the cool breeze caressed her body through the thin fabric of her tank top, before deciding to also slip out of her jeans, it felt good to be out of the dirty garments even if it was only to warm up her wayward goblin fey.
With a rueful smile Sarah slipped in under the surprisingly light and soft fur blankets, to wrap her arms around the now shivering man cradling him in the crook of her arm, and resting his head on her shoulder, giving him as much body contact as possible.
"Oh my wicked goblin what have they done to you..."
Once more she saw in her mind's eye, the horror they had found when they had finally managed to get him lying down. Wounds had covered him in what could almost be called layers, if such a thing was possible. Whiplashes warring for supremacy with deep cuts, revealing bone, crimson muscle tissue and deep burns caused by holding cold wrought iron against his fey skin. Apparently that had been what had angered Oberon the most, well that and the seven ten inch iron nails that had been pierced through Jareth's body, eating his magic away leaving him as powerless as any mortal.
That was how they had managed to break so many of his bones, once his magic had been drained, there had been nothing to prevent them from truly hurting him. And hurt him they had, almost every bone from his hips down were broken, as well as most off his ribs, his left upper arm and his right wrist, and finally his jaw which was also broken though not just one or two places but five. And those were only the fractures that were still healing, almost every bone in his body showed signs of having been broken repeatedly in the last few years.
According to the healers all that had saved Jareth from death had been the skill of his tormentors, and the strength inherent to any fey, magic or not.
Gentle running her fingers through his now clean hair, Sarah tried to keep from spilling anymore tear than she already had, but the images of the once so proud king struggling against them, begging for mercy or death as they had tried to help him, were too much and fresh tears spilled readily...
. . .
Pain oh sweet horned lord, the pain... how did it feel, not to be in pain? He couldn't remember, he couldn't remember what it felt like not to have cold iron eating his skin away or forced into his flesh, to burn like. ... well there was nothing to describe the agony of having iron inside your body.
And for what ?
They wanted his Labyrinth, they wanted him to give them the power over Gaia's famed ramrod, so that they would be the ones to set the rules... But their minds were cruel and wicked things, twisted and dark in their desire, they would destroy it, and bring its walls tumbling down on those innocent lives who dwelled within. And no matter how much he yearned to relinquish the crown and make the pain stop, he could not let the lives off those under his care be snuffed out so cruelly. All that kept them safe now was his pain, and all that kept him alive, was the world he had created in his mind when the agony grew too much to bear.
Sarah...
It was but one word, so innocent and soft, yet to him it had become a word of power, a prayer that brought solace and sanctuary, the strength to go on even if it never became anything but a broken dream...
Sunlight warmed his skin, and the waist high grass sighed a soothing caress against his gloved hands. They stood beneath the majestic swaying trees of Tir na nog the fey realm through the veil, her dainty hand entwined with his as she leaned in to lay a chaste kiss on his lips, sighing his name against his skin with her honeyed breath.
Wrapping his arms around her waist, he brought her as close as two could be and still be clothed, laughing as he felt the curves of her now adult body, beneath the airy fabric of her fey gown, as she moulded herself to him.
Running his free hand through her unbound ebony tresses, he sighed and laughed all in one as their lips meet once more, but this time there was nothing chaste about their joining, teeth and lips and tongues clashed and surrendered only to resume their match, until their bodies need for air drove them apart once more.
Breathing hard from the passion in his heart he pulled her in once more, cradling her face, as he whispered
"Fear me, love me, do as I say... and I will be your slave..."
"Yes... yes... yes... yes... I give you power over me, my goblin king please come to me..."
And then the dream faded and changed, becoming darker and lighter all at once.
His eyes ached and burned as if he hadn't opened them in days, and he had to mobilize more strength than he would have imagined possible to force them open.
Gone were the open skies, and rolling hills of the seelie realm, this time he lay in the dusty safety of his private chamber, pale moonlight washing over the massive bed that had never used for anything but ... harsh lessons.
Breathing in the musky scent of his beloved fur nest, he relaxed into the warm presence pressed against his pain riddled body, and rested his head on a softly rising chest. He didn't have to move to know who his mind had conjured up to sooth away his agony, there was ever only one choice... Sarah.
Yet stalwart in that conviction, Jareth was still thoroughly confused by this latest dream or hallucination.
He hurt, as in every inch of his body burned, throbbed, or just plain HURT. He could feel the grating scrape of broken bones rubbing against each other with even the slightest breath, the iron-burns flared at the smallest disturbance and the nails driven into his flesh all those years ago... wait.. The incessant unbearable naked flames that had resided in his flesh for long enough that he could barely recall them not being there, were gone.. just gone, and all that remained was a slight throbbing burn.
What was this? a dream or a nightmare? he had never felt pain in his dreams before, it had always been light and soft and good, never had his suffering spilled into his escape dream...
Maybe it was a sign, a sign that his captors had finally crossed that hairline border and pushed his fey body too far, maybe the reason for this lingering pain, was that his body was dying, and his mind had become unable to ignore it any longer. Maybe that was the reason for the past few dreams of Sarah caring for his broken body, holding him, and directing the efforts of the healers of his childhood, perhaps it was his body trying to tell him that he was dying. That the final escape had come at last to claim him, and reunite them...
Maybe...
A soft hand drew itself through his hair, disrupting his line of thoughts with its heat, and drawing a deep moan from his lips.
It felt SO real...
Real enough, that it brought tears to his stinging eyes, and made his breath hitch as the hand continued its gentle journey down to his neck, where it settled as a warm safe weight.
It was too much!
Too good and far, far too real, it was more than his battered mind could handle, and the sensation of warm skin against his cold face remained as his eyes fluttered shut and the world turned dark and painless once more.