Bonjour, all of you who are actually deciding to read the second chapter... it means you must have read the first (and I thank you for that). I promise you will be well rewarded for your time. Like I said before, if you like it then please review and tell me what you think. If you don't like it, stop reading and go find something else. If you're torn between the two and want to give it a chance, put it on alert and we'll see how far it goes... I think it's obvious already that this is definitely not a major project nor a high priority in my mind. I do thank everyone for reading, so far, though!
"Hearts will never be practical until they are made unbreakable."
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"You're beautiful when you tremble," she could hear him say as she resumed consciousness.
Sarah tried to sit up, but her head was too heavy. Every time she moved, a sharp pain ran up and down her back, as though someone was running a ball of nails along her spine. Her bottom lip throbbed and, taking a suck at the wound, realized it was still bleeding.
"Please, do that again," the silky voice requested, a hint of cynicism breaking through the bell tones of Jareth's words. "You bit it when you hit the floor."
Jareth.
Sarah's mind reeled. She was having a hard time opening her eyes but, all of a sudden, she didn't want to keep trying. When she opened them, it would confirm the nightmare she had found herself in. It had been so peaceful in the darkness, once she realized she wasn't heading back to the Labyrinth. She would just keep falling forever and ever, with no sense of time or responsibility or fear, in the warmth. Now that she had been jerked so quickly from that once-feared, now yearned-for space, that dream when she had fallen and not stopped falling, Sarah realized it was very cold and that she was very sore. The ground was so hard; she had not fallen onto the rug and it almost seemed like she had hit something on her way to the floor. Perhaps the box of books she had neglected to put on her new shelf? Initially, Sarah wondered why she was not in her bed, waking up from a long sleep after a long day of heavy manual labor. It was his voice that had brought reality rushing to her.
"I- I don't-"
Sarah couldn't form words, couldn't think about anything else but her back and her head and the fact a voice from her darkest nightmares and deepest desires, both hidden away for such a long time under such thin veils, was now in her ear. A warmth swept over her and she could feel arms reaching under her, lifting her. As she managed a small cry of pain as her back twisted and muscles spasmed, there was a small noise, like a disapproving tap of the tongue on the back of teeth. Sarah could hardly register the smell of fine dust and leather and cinnamon as Jareth and how close he really was. The arm that was under her waist slid down, almost too slowly, to her knees and supported her legs as Sarah was lifted off the floor and brought across the room to her bed. Gently, she was laid upon the soft blanket and pillows, which were still slightly warm from where Jareth had lain. Despite her fear and discomfort and shock, Sarah managed a grateful half-smile, which turned into a grimace as she took a deep breath.
"You passed out ten minutes ago," the Goblin King said, sitting beside Sarah's fairly limp body on the bed. "You looked so peaceful, I didn't dare rouse you."
"Not- not fair."
"Life isn't fair, my dearest Sarah," came the reply. "I didn't want you to run out the door, to run away from me again. I wanted you here, able to hear my words and think on them, instead of acting rashly or throwing everything I say out of your head. I didn't want you hurt, but I wasn't about to complain when you fainted. In fact, it was quite flattering."
Sarah breathed deep for a few moments, trying to ignore the fact there were gloved fingers brushing through the tips of her hair, which was grown out nearly to her elbows; what a moment to remember she had forgotten to make time in her busy schedule for a haircut! Her clothes, a pale pink sweater pulled over a purple tank, and old blue jeans seemed to still be where they needed to be and were holding in a bit of warmth that had seeped through the layers from the body sitting next to her, still just sitting. There was too much to worry about to be thinking about clothes--
"Don't worry, at least, not right now. As long as I'm here, you need not worry."
What a strange thing for such a strange man to be saying! It made Sarah angry, the rage cutting through the fog and the pain and the embarrassment. How dare he, after all these years, after all of her attempts to cut him out of her life, come into her room in the dead of night? How dare he let her lay on the floor, prone to anything, hurt and bleeding, and then administer care as though he had every right to be there? Sarah had never trusted the Goblin King and now here she was, completely flat on her back and unable to even open her eyes. Truth be told, she was afraid to open her eyes, afraid to see his face again. As long as she couldn't see him, he wasn't there. She could smell him, the scent of the Underground and the magic floating off him (on the chill breeze because the stupid window was still open), and she could feel him next to her. The senses were overwhelmed, all except sight. But, it would maybe be better if she looked at him: it would decrease the clarity of every other sense, including the vivid awareness of his fingers in her hair, at her elbow.
"Yes, Sarah," came a whisper, hardly an inch from her ear, causing her to flinch and then freeze in horror. "Open your eyes and look at me."
"Can you- read my mind?" Sarah asked fearfully, knowing the answer could be anything.
"Well, we'll see if I can later," was the evasive answer, "I want you to look at me."
That did it. The eyes were staying shut. She was done obeying Jareth's voice. Jareth, everything and nothing in her world. He had been her hero, her villain, the one who put the terrifying memories of the creatures of the Labryinth in her head, the one who was pressed too close to her during that one dance... that dance...
"I remember, too. How beautiful you were, how promising. You could have been the Goblin Queen, my bride. You were already the talk of the ball, the young mortal who had snared the King's heart."
Sarah's eyes flew open.
"You can read my thoughts! You- you- oh, ow-"
As Sarah tried to sit up, every muscle in her back spasmed, causing her to twist right into Jareth's arms. Furious and emersed in pain and shame, Sarah tried squirming back onto the bed.
"You do realize that, if I had not caught you, you would have fallen off the bed?"
"I don't care."
"In that case-"
Sarah felt the hands release her and she could sense that, this time, the darkness had a limit and the floor was hardly a foot away from her face. Sticking out a hand, she snagged her fingernails on the corner of the bed, fingers twisting desperately around the covers. She stayed that way, hanging over the bed, the only reasons she hadn't fallen to a painful lump on the floor because of her grip on the bedding and her legs pressed into the bed by Jareth's body. Jareth himself had magicked himself a pillow to rest against, one matching the pillows on the bed, and leaned backward, hands resting behind his head against the wall. Sarah's lower half was pinned between the mattress and Jareth's back; he seemed as solid as a stone and Sarah pulled herself back up with a grunt and a sigh, flopping back onto the pillows.
"Your eyes are still as beautiful-"
"Shut up, will you?"
Sarah had covered her face with her hands to avoid looking at him, to cover the blush running across her cheeks. If he could read her mind, hear her thoughts, he would know anything, everything she was thinking about. Against her will, nearly hundreds of images flashed across her mind, most of them relating to her life in the world of the non-magical, several of them about her time in the Underground, and just one or two of them inappropriate and rather private.
"I see in images, not words. When your words go too fast, I can't focus on more than one picture at a time."
So, he really could read her mind. At least this knowledge that, as long as she thought quickly and didn't linger on more than a few things at a time, he couldn't see everything she was thinking about, reassured her a bit. She calmed her breathing, which had quickened in those short moments, and couldn't help but think about how to prepare herself to look at her strange visitor. Sarah didn't have long to think, though, because Jareth leaned over her, releasing her legs from their trap, and pulled her hands away from her face by her wrists. His fingers flexed and the leather squeezed her skin; Sarah could feel her pulse quicken under the pressure he had over her hands. She didn't struggle, just froze yet again as she noted that, if she closed her eyes, he would probably do something else, probably something not comfortable, to open them. And so the world unfolded before her...
"You are flattering, my dear creature," his voice whispered, his face a respectable distance from her own, eyes level. Sarah realized she had just thought he was as glorious and frightening and regal as he had been the last time she had seen him. She blushed and was thankful he didn't comment on that, as well.
"I see you," Sarah said calmly, ignoring the stinging in her lip and the tickle of blood oozing from the wound. "Now why are you here?"
"I thought you would want to talk a little bit more about other things than why I'm here."
Sarah thought, as loud as she could: No.
Well then, said a voice that was not her own inside her head, I suppose I might as well humor you.
Jareth chuckled as Sarah realized she could hear his thoughts as well. When he laughed, she could feel his torso shake, hitting her own with every peal of laugher. It was a concern of hers that he would get closer and Jareth, hearing this, released her hands. The bed didn't shift as he put his weight on his feet and stood, his shadow looming over her as Sarah tried and failed to get her own body to listen to her.
The Goblin King opened his mouth to speak, but before a sound came out, he paused, eyes shifting towards the bedroom door. Turning back to Sarah, he smiled a crooked smile and seized one of her hands lesurely. Kissing the top of her hand, Jareth, being a perfect gentleman, bowed.
"Another time, Sarah. You don't seem to be alone anymore, and it is only when you are alone that I may come and visit. Rest!"
"Wait, but-"
"Goodbye."
With hardly more than a rustle and a shower of silent sparkles that drifted to the floor, Jareth was gone. He had not left a moment too soon because Amber burst in through the bedroom door, looking hassled and worried. She wasn't due to get off so early! She had only been at work for a few hours and now she was back, babbling.
"Are you okay? I got a scratchy voicemail from your phone! I'm sorry I couldn't answer when you called, I was helping a customer! I came as soon as I could get off. I said it was an emergency! Is there an emergency?"
"No, um... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to call you," Sarah said, thinking as quickly as possible to come up with an excuse that sounded believable enough that Amber wouldn't hate her. "I fell- tripped over my backpack and hit my head on the floor. I must have bumped your speed-dial and not known it."
"How did you get in bed? And why do you look so flushed?"
"I crawled. I think I threw my back out. And I'm in pain."
Sarah tried a grimace as she moved, but didn't have to fake too much. Perhaps she really had hurt her back? Her head still hurt, that was for sure.
"You poor thing," Amber said, heart melting. "Want tea or painkiller? No, you're getting them no matter if you want them or not! I'll be right back!"
Dear, sweet Amber. It didn't matter it was nearly three in the morning and she had had to take off work to come home and take care of her roommate. Sarah smiled and thanked the stars she had accidentally pressed Amber's speed-dial number.
A laugh broke through Sarah's thoughts.
Oh, you can't give yourself credit for that one, said the familiar voice that had just been a breath away from her ear ten minutes ago.
"Jareth," Sarah stated. It was more of an oath than anything.
I think I like it when you say my name like that, said the voice. And I can tell you're blushing.
Sarah indeed blushed again, the blood rushing to her head making her lip throb. She put her hand to her mouth and poked at the bite mark, rubbing away some of the dried blood. The top of the hand Jareth had kissed brushed against her lower lip and, within a few seconds and with a few unusual sensations, the wound was gone.
"Healing sped up," Sarah muttered as she explained to herself what that strange itching and tingling sensation had been. "Healing kisses?" Ruefully, Sarah wondered if that would work on her back, the muscles still flexing beyond her will and bothering her.
We could see if it would work, came the smooth reply.
"No, no, don't you dare."
