A/N: Well... here I am once more, grovelling and begging for forgiveness. Before you slam the symbolic door in my face let me just say that I have several reasonable (in my opinion, at least) excuses for my long absence from this story. It would take too long to present my case in full... I'll simply say that my period of inactivity involved such things as the death of my laptop and the subsequent loss of all notes/outlines/written chapters saved in it's treacherous little hard drive, a couple of emergency surgeries and the stressful craziness of moving while working on both the old house and the new. It's almost as if I brought some evil curse down upon myself by starting this story...
Anyway... at long last, I hereby present the eighth installment of Spellbound... Yes, yes. I know. It's very short. I basically just wanted to let everyone know that this story wasn't all dead. It's not even mostly dead. It's only been partially dead.
Jareth arrived at his chamber a few moments later, still wearing the same satisfied smile that had come upon him as he walked away from Sarah's door. He felt so alive and happy. Truly happy. He knew he faced a night filled with the unpleasant business of questioning his captive and trying to assess the Unseelie's plans, yet he just couldn't seem to achieve his usual detached manner, no matter how hard he tried.
Even the servants had become infected, smiling back at him as he simultaneously whistled and barked out orders for the maids to attend to his lady in her chamber once the healers had finished treating her.
Planning to grab a quick shower and change into fresh garments before heading off for the oubliette where Bram had stashed Farin, he was soon to learn that those particular intentions would have to wait.
"So, the rumors are obviously true, if that wolfish grin I'm seeing is any indication."
"Hello, Sire," Jareth replied, completely unruffled.
His father sat in the circular window directly across from him, the very place that Jareth himself preferred to lounge.
King Eremon slowly rose from his perch and walked toward his only son, a small smile of his own peeking out from behind his impressive silver beard. When he stood close enough, he reached out his hand and placed it on Jareth's shoulder.
"I must admit, I came here to lecture and censure you for your conduct, my son, but seeing you this content has taken the wind out of my sails, I'm afraid," he said, patting his son affectionately. "Well done, indeed."
Jareth bowed his head in acceptance of the praise before returning his father's embrace.
"Thank you, sir. I'd like to think I learned from the best."
Eremon grinned, showing a brief glimpse of the masculine beauty that he himself had once possessed in his youth, the same that now favored his son.
"So tell me, boy. When shall I get to meet this new daughter of mine? We've never had a human around the palace before. It ought to be a real hoot. Not to mention the fact that your mother is going to drive me to my cups if she doesn't get her hands on your girl soon. The woman's got wedding fever," he added, trying to sound forlorn.
Jareth laughed, for he knew his father's weariness was affected. His father had adored his mother, Queen Teá, from the moment he'd first set his eyes upon her and hadn't rested in his pursuit until she had agreed to run away with him. Since she happened to be the cherished princess of the Sky Elves, Eremon had known he would have a battle on his hands, but he hadn't been the least bit fazed. And he'd never once regretted a moment of his life with his beautiful Teá.
"Soon, father. I'll present her just as soon as I'm sure she's... " Jareth trailed off, not quite sure what word he was searching for.
"Not going to slip a dagger in your back?" Eremon chortled, his eyes, so like his son's, glittering with amusement.
"I was going to say settled, actually," Jareth returned with a chuckle of his own. "Sarah would never harm me. She loves me."
Eremon's thick silver eyebrows rose in a gesture of skeptical disbelief.
"She does," Jareth said firmly. "She just doesn't know it yet."
"I have no doubts you'll convince her, my boy. None at all," the high king said. "At least I can quit nagging at you about taking a wife. I was surely getting tired of blustering at you like some old harpy."
"You did what you thought best. But as you can see, I had everything under control."
Eremon coughed to hide his laughter. "Yes, well, I can't say that I necessarily approve of the risks you've taken, especially since you managed to get her baby brother kidnapped, but you'll have that righted soon enough. Aye, you'll straighten it all out. And then I can finally start planning my golden years. I'm a weary old man after these many years of ruling. I want nothing more than to spend my days chasing your mother around Tir Na nOg... naked."
And with that, the high king of all the Underground vanished in a shower of golden sparks, his son's laughter following him as he transported himself home.