Chapter 49. Miss Mouse comes a Courtin'

Tanya sat nervously at breakfast in the Ducal palace, her mother had not taken even a breath from the moment she began her litany of grievances against the Goblin King. Thankfully she was so intent upon heaping curses on Jareth for his outlandish and disrespectful behavior that she took little notice of Tanya's state of mind or being. The Duke listened dutifully for the first half hour before his eyes glazed over and he began to shake his head in agreement by rote. He was reading from a scroll that had arrived from the Council of the Seelie Court. It seemed that the Duchess was not the only Fae in the community incensed by Jareth's behavior. Tanya stole a few sideward glances toward her father. He was as oblivious to her as he was to his wife, it seemed. That oblivion suited the girl as she made her plans.

Lowering the scroll, he cleared his throat, signaling his wife to halt her criticisms and protestations. Once she stopped sounding off he stood up and tapped the rerolled scroll against the open palm of one hand. "I have to attend an emergency session of the Council," he announced gravely.

The Duchess sat down, as if the wind had been knocked out of her sail, "Now?"

He nodded, "It looks to be a very long session indeed."

Creasing her brow with the deepening frown, the Duchess Winderspire huffed. "Well a fine time they pick. You are needed here, you must guide our daughter so she does not make the kinds of mistakes that Circe Talagon is known to make. You have a duty to her and this families reputation first!"

Duke Winderspire placed a hand on his daughter's slender shoulder. "Tanya is a good girl; she's not a bit like Circe." He placed an affectionate kiss atop her head and smiled.

Affronted by his insinuation the Duchess wheezed loudly. "I didn't say she was like Circe! Of course she's not a bit like Circe! The idea," she gathered her dressing gown closer and searched the pockets for her smelling salts. "Really my dear, how could you even think such a thought?" She moaned before dropping into a chair. "No one knows how I suffer," she wept. The Duke rolled his eyes, only making her wail all the more.

Tanya walked her father out to the foyer. "Father, really, you know better than to get her going."

"She stopped heaping curses on poor King Jareth, did she not?" He joked lightly as he hooked his arm into his daughters. "I'm sure the poor boy was just having an off day. Surrounded by Goblins day in and day out, who wouldn't have a breach in ones etiquette and behavior? And everyone knows that Circe is nothing more than a tart. Your mother should not let that bother her."

Tanya knew better, however she didn't voice her thoughts. "What is the Council meeting about?"

"Jareth," sighed the Duke. "Wonder if I can get them off subject as easy as I get your mother to get off subject? Well, I must do what I can for my old friends boy," he donned his robes of office and kissed his daughter's cheek. "Be a good child," he said before vanishing.

'What if I'm tired of being good?' she wondered to herself. She peered back into the breakfast room only to find one of the maids sympathizing with her mother. She pulled back and called out lightly, "Mother, I'm going riding." She heard the sobbing acceptance and rushed up to her room to change; fearing if she tarried her mother would start asking questions she didn't wish to answer. Ringing for her maid, the young woman requested her newest riding habit. The one she'd not worn as yet.

Mounting her winged horse she set off for a canter, unaware of the eyes that watched.

--

Shortly after leaving the grounds of the Ducal palace, Tanya used a portal to transport her as close to the Goblin castle as she dared. She had been using this same means of transportation for all the time she'd been doing business at the Goblin Palace, and her presence on Goblin soil was not seen as unusual. She rode to the gate and was greeted politely by two large Hobgoblin guards. "I've come to see the King," she said. The guards had seen her before and she hoped they would think she was there on business.

"Miss Winderspire," one of the guards took hold of her reigns. "I shall escort you to the entry."

"Thank you guard," she said as the other helped her down off the mount. She walked at his side and stood there until the door was opened by one of the footmen she'd noticed last night. She was told to wait in the entry until the steward came.

Philo walked toward her and gave her a curt bow. "Miss Winderspire."

"Good morning Master Steward," she greeted him courteously. "Do you know if the king has some time for me this morning?" She tapped a leather pouch she had thought to bring with papers for the King's signature, making her appearance look authentic.

"I will be happy to ask if he's receiving," he motioned her to follow him. "If you would not mind waiting in the solarium," he opened the door and ushered her into the room where the king was keeping rare plant specimens. She smiled sweetly as she passed him by. Closing the door Philo moved at a leisurely pace toward the King's private study. He tapped on the door and entered. "She's here."

Jareth was sitting behind his desk, looked up with an expectant grin. "What excuse is she using?"

"More papers in her leather pouch," Philo snickered. "Where would you like her delivered to?"

"I can hardly seduce her in this office, now can I? And it would seem rather odd and forward to have her escorted up to my bedchamber, wouldn't it? Besides I believe Rosalind is still up there, worn out." Jareth mused. "Where do you suggest, Philo? Where is the perfect place to bait a mousetrap?"

Philo gave the King's request a moment of thought. "I would think the pavilion in the garden by the pond. It's very secluded, and with swans swimming by…"

"Very romantic," agreed the King; "Perfect for a starry eyed Fae female. Give me five minutes to create the right ambiance and then bring her out to me," he requested as he used magic to transport himself out to the garden.

Once more Philo headed to the solarium in an unhurried step. He found the girl looking at some of the new roses the King had collected. "If you will follow me," he said clearing his throat lightly.

--

The pavilion sat on a bucolic parcel of the land that overlooked a small slope that dropped away receding to a lovely lagoon surrounded by willows whose leaves and branches dragged in the water and on the ground. The pavilion itself was nothing more than a tent really, but it was elegant in its structure and in its color. From a distance the white on white poplin of the tent seemed to be just another swan on the waters. The interior of the chamber was decorated for sight and scent. Fresh boughs of apple and peach hung from the roof rafters, their ripened fruit still attached, waiting to be plucked. Fragrant pine and vibrant holly skirted the corners, making it seem as if the cloth supported itself. Each little flutter of breeze set the fragrances of fruit and evergreen dancing to entice and please the senses.

Jareth had furnished it in a very romantic, classical style. A table was set with wine, as well as tea, sweet morsels, and tempting little finger sandwiches. He had created a throne like chair made of bentwood boughs and covered in caning on which were brocade cushions in a rich deep burgundy with hanging satin tassels. In the center of the pavilion was a double wide chaise-lounge draped in rose damask and lace. Hanging crystal orbs filled with colored oil were in place in case they were needed to 'light up' a situation. He had only just finished the decorating when he could see Tanya being escorted toward him. He called out cordially. "Good morning, Miss Winderspire, may I offer you tea?"

"Thank you Sire, tea would be lovely." She gave him a curtsey as Philo turned leaving her alone with the monarch. "I do hope you'll forgive my early appearance, but these leases do need to be signed." Keeping a pleasant expression on her face, she handed him the pouch and worried that her riding habit didn't seem fetching enough in such a quixotic setting.

"Very thoughtful of you to deliver them with such speed," Jareth passed her a cup of tea and motioned her to be seated, as he took his seat in the chair forcing her to sit on the chaise lounge. He pretended to read over the papers, already knowing they were in order. He observed her working to get her nerve up to speak to him. He could see how much she appreciated the atmosphere, and how she was preening, so he could see how well she fit in with the surroundings. "I see all is in order here," slipping the parchments back in the valise before placing it beside his chair. "I shall be happy to sign them as soon as we've had our tea."

"Of course," she whispered, her fingers trembling lightly as she brought the tea cup to her lips. "This is a lovely spot, I had no idea that your kingdom including such beauty. Do you come here often?"

"There are many places of such splendor in the Kingdom, this is but one," he'd seen the tremor, and suppressed the smile that was playing at the corner of his lips. "I come here as often as my schedule allows me to." She was hardly going to throw herself at him if he were laughing in her face, he deemed. "I do hope you enjoyed the gala yesterday." He kept the small talk going, knowing this girl was bred for court life and its ways.

"Most of it," she prevaricated from behind her tea cup.

"I'm not going to apologies," he teased easily, sipping his own cup of tea. His hands were steady, and his breathing uninhibited.

"Apologies?" she repeated placing her cup and saucer down on the table, her hands too shaky to hold it any longer without spilling.

Giving her one of his own wicked smiles, Jareth chuckled deviously. "For the nook," he pressed the taunt gently. "You're far too attractive sometimes; last night was one of them."

Tanya blushed at his referral. "I don't know if I should thank you or slap you," she confessed.

Placing a hand to the cheek her hand had struck the night before he teased. "Thank me; I do believe you've already slapped me."

"I wish I could apologize for that action, Sire, but you would not understand my position..." she stammered trying to reason her way out of the corner he was waltzing her into with words.

"And again today," Jareth interrupted her, "That outfit you've on now is perfect for you. The cut, the color; that shade just shows off how incomparable your eyes truly are. Forget-me-not blue, is it not? Tanya no one could forget you," he purred.

"Thank you, Sire." Tanya blushes more deeply.

"And that rose that is flourishing your cheeks now," Jareth cocked his head to one side, his eyes becoming feral. He knew there was a sexual connotation to his tone now, and wanted her to feel his rising arousal if only conversationally.

"Please, sir!"

"What is it, Tanya? Is it all too much? I simply can't help myself. Perhaps you could help me. If I were to assist you out of that outfit, then I'd have only your natural beauty to compare to nature with."

Nervously she fidgeted. "Yes, well~" She stood up, wishing now she'd just let sleeping dogs lie. This game was a little hotter than she'd anticipated, no matter what she'd thought in the privacy of her own boudoir.

Jareth stood up as well and sought out her eyes, "I'm offering to~ kiss and makeup." He needed to make eye contact, to show his 'sincerity'

The words caught in her throat as she looked at him, was that what he'd been offering? She watched as he closed the space between them. One of his gloved hands came up to cup her chin, raising it as he lowered his lips to hers. The sensation of his lips on hers filled her with electric excitement and she gasped under the pressure of his lingering mouth. She looked at him with startled awe. The hand that had cupped her chin now moved to the back of her head as the king again lowered his lips to hers. Before they touched she snapped to attention and pulled away.

"Is our truce over so soon," Jareth teased.

"No, it's not that," she stammered nervously. "Oh, I shouldn't have come here!" She exclaimed.

Reaching for her hands Jareth prevented her flight. "I glad you did come." He moved his hands up her arms, her hands resting on his wrists. "We should get to know one another better."

Tanya's doe eyes turned downcast, she picked and played with the lace at his sleeve, avoiding those eyes that no one could resist. "You accused me of being window dressing once," she reminded him. "You said that what went on at your court was not for good little girls." Her hands held in the King's she was trapped in her own webbing. "You've warned me over and over."

"I recall," he admitted trying not to sound gloating.

She turned her eyes upward. "You were right," she whispered. "I'm playing a game I don't really seem understand."

'Sarah read you right,' he mused to himself. 'Nevertheless like a mouse you're in the maze and here you shall stay with the big bad tom cat waiting to pounce.' Turning ever so slightly he drew her closer to the chaise, drawing her to sit beside him; "And yet you are here. You must have had reason beside those papers," he suggested softly.

Tanya's eyes squeezed shut. "I'm so ashamed," she groaned, and then poured out her soul to him. "You were right about me; I'm not what I've pretended to be…. My mother said that if I were move visible, more tantalizing… you'd see that I would make you the perfect Queen." He listened, already having a pretty fair idea of the Duchesses intentions, keeping his features schooled. "But you didn't seem to notice, not once did you as much as invite me to take tea."

"We've just had tea," he said softly, his lips at her ear; "Now perhaps something sweet to follow." Placing one hand behind her back, he moved closer to nuzzle her. She sprang from the chaise, and was surprised when he quickly followed and pulled her brusquely back against him. Thwarting her fleeing the pavilion with his touch.

Her eyes went downward, looking at the ground demurely. "I cannot do this. I thought I could but I cannot," she groaned thinking of what was hidden by his breeches. "Please Sire, let me go."

"Tanya," he used her name decisively making her focus her attention on his voice instead of the object of her fears. "Why are you afraid of me?"

She quivered in his embrace. "Because of that thing you wear." Her voice was a low husky whisper.

"You could face your fears," he encouraged. "You once offered to be my willing student." He let his hands move over her, up her shoulders and down her arms.

"You turned me down, as I recollect," she shivered under his touch.

"Tanya," he murmured turning her to face him. He looked at her with smoldering eyes. "Am I really so very frightening?" He reached up, cupping her face between two gentle hands as he lowered his face to hers. His lips brushed hers as soft as butterfly wings. He kept the kiss gentle and short.

"I've never really done anything like this," she confessed in a haunted tone.

Continuing to cup her face in his hands, he breathed on her face. "Tanya, what is it you want," she looked up, lips parted eyes hungry. "You've told me over and over what your mother wants, what she expects. What do you want?"

A long deep tremor passed through her. "To know what it feels like," she declared. "Being with you," her doe eyes burned with yearning.

Giving her an alluring and tempting grin, he reached up and unfastened the pins that held her riding bonnet and its flowing veil upon the top of her head. Freeing her from the bonnet allowed the long titian locks to fall uncontrolled over her shoulders. Without looking, he tossed the bonnet aside, out of the pavilion out onto the lawn. "Much better," he mused as he reached for one unbound strand that was coiling at the side of her lovely face. When his fingers were working the coil to wind between thumb and forefinger he saw her tremble again. "Has no one ever made love to you?"

Startled and a little offended her face turned pink and she pouted. "Of course not," she gasped. "I've always been a good girl."

His fingers abandoned the coil of curls and moved to stroke her soft cheek. "Was it a good girl who came to my bedchamber?" Tanya blushed. "Or was it a woman, hungry for my touch?" Quivers answered his quires; he purred deep back in his throat again as he took her lips once more. This time her hands moved hesitantly forward, reaching for his slender waist. She began to respond to his kiss more readily and he moved his hands from her cheek down her back pulling her closer. He broke off and looked at her expectantly. "Was that so very frightening?"

"No," she mewled.

Wordlessly he moved his hands forward, taking hold of her lapels of her jacket before chuckling softly and unfastening the buttons. She gasped but it was too late, he'd opened the blue jacket and was tugging it off her. Once he had it free he tossed it the same direction as the bonnet, knowing it would land close enough to it to be quite picturesque. At the last moment the girl reached out for the jacket but he blocked her. "Let it be," he commanded softly. "See how appealing it looks there?"

Tanya, a court trained Fae, had never had even one romance. She looked at Jareth, and while one part of her brain was ordering her to flee, another part told her to relax and have some fun for once. She looked at the bonnet and the jacket and had to agree. "They do look picturesque there."

He had expected more of a fight, but then he'd taken into account how brazenly the girl had behaved in the few years he had to do business with her. "Come sit with me," he invited. "Let us be comfortable." She didn't give him a fight, but followed bashfully hiding her face in his shoulder.

--

Circe felt her jaw tighten; she clenched her hands digging nails into the soft flesh of her palms. She steeled herself to continue watching the man with the ninny of a girl. She could not fathom Jareth wasting time on the twit. Not when there were other more experienced women of the courts who could easily answer the needs he was feeding.

--

Tanya once more sat demurely on the damask swathed chaise. "Sire," she kept her tone respectful and just breathy enough to impress upon him her youth. "I've never…"

"I know," he assured her as he took his seat, embracing her before slating his lips to hers once more. He heard her murmur, and groan in the back of her throat. Long ago experience had taught him the signs that a woman was ready to take the flirtations further; Tanya was showing him all those signs. He kept reminding himself that she was expecting this to be romantic and dreamy. She was not experienced like Rosalind nor was she jaded like Circe; she was in truth just a kid. Just as Sarah had proclaimed a few hours ago, however kid or not, he needed to secure her as a possession if he were to hold the Seelie court at bay.

Tempting her with kisses was not going to be enough, and much as he hated to put the gullible girl in such a position, she was here. Moving from her willing lips to her neck, he began to nibble on her long slender throat. The hand that had been at her waist, migrated its way up unfastening the buttons of her silky blouse on its way up. Snakelike sipping into the fabric until his hand rested on the breast that covered her heart. Feeling her heart pounding just beneath the satin corset she was wearing he paused. "You taste like nectar," he uttered before pressing his lips to the swelling mound that he'd been caressing a moment before. With very little coaxing he worked the nipple of her left breast above the lace that decorated the undergarment that he fully planed to discard onto the lawn along with the rest of her garments. She shivered and moaned as he took the hardened little bud into his mouth to tease and torment. A moment later the blouse was gone, sent to the lawn. Her skirt followed and he pulled his shirt off before while pushing her backward onto the chaise, his leg pressing to open her knee. He had one hand gathering the skirting of her slip giving him access to her.

"Sire," she gasped as his hand skimmed up her velvety leg.

Nuzzling her neck so he would not have to look her in the eye, he purred. "I think you should call me Jareth, Tanya."

"Jareth, don't," she begged modestly. "I really can't…"

"Of course you can, sweetheart," he encouraged her to be submissive. "We both know you want to. WE both know that this is why you came here…" she whimpered and he added courtly, "There's no audience here to make you self conscious. Just you and I," he gentled his manner and tone. "I shall take every care, Tanya… Knowing this is your first time."

"You won't be disappointed?"

Working not to laugh in her face, he kept his lips to her ear, "How could any man be disappointed in being first with you?"

--

Clenching her fists, the enraged Circe turned her back on the scene playing out before her astonished eyes. How could he be seducing that twit? Surely she'd far too tame after his romp in the nook with Circe herself. The longer she lingered, watching the King seduce the willing maid, the angrier and bitterer Circe became. Those hungry lips should be searching her body, not Tonya's!

Turning from the sight, she stalked off toward a clearing where she could discreetly open a portal to the mortal realm. There she would seek out the help of a mortal, one who could give her the means by which to destroy both the mortal pet of the Goblin King and his latest conquest, the sweet little Miss Winderspire.

--

Lilith sat with her arms hugging her knees up in her chest. She rocked to and fro, whispering the same mantra she'd been chanting since her husband had delivered her to this institution. "Circe, come aid me." Her eyes were blank, no fire, and no lust for life.

Circe followed the essence of the girl, being of the magical communion her body gave off a distinctive indicator. She stilled time as she entered the undersized cramped cell the girl was occupying. She didn't seem to see, or feel the presences of the Fae woman; she just rocked and chanted in a painful plea. The Fae woman stepped closer, sensing a strangely off chemical odor attached to Lilith. Instantly she understood, the girl was drugged, and mindless numb in her chanting.

Knowing that the girl could not give her what she needed in this state, she called forth a brew that would purge the chemicals from the girls being and clear her mind. "Take and drink," she ordered steadfastly in a powerful voice. The girl opened, and opened her mouth to accept the drought that Circe had created. Within a few moments Circe could see the dazed glaze in the girls eyes lift. Her breathing became more normal and her scent was clear of the chemicals. Setting the cup aside, she questioned Lilith.

"The girl the King of the Goblins keeps as a pet, who is she?"

"Sarah, Sarah Williams…" Lilith answered softly, her tortured mind still a bit confused. "He took her away…"

Circe put on her most concerned face, and stroked the face of the girl who was becoming cognoscente. "What is it on this side of the veil that Sarah loves most?"

"Toby," Lilith licked her dry lips, and her raspy voice repeated. "Toby, her brother…. She would risk her life and commit murder for the boy…." She then laughed, "I watched her torture a man who had put him in danger, and it was glorious."

Thinking perhaps she'd underestimated the King's pet, Circe asked. "Did she kill this man?"

"No," Lilith sighed.

"Where could I find him if I needed to?" Circe removed her hand from Lilith's face.

"He's here," Lilith breathed deeply. "He is called, Daryl Daniels, he's a doctor…He tortured us in the school we were sent to…. Sarah would not break, and he set out to destroy her, but only destroyed himself." She looked at Circe, with eyes clearing of the glaze. "He went after Toby, and Sarah put him on trial, a private tribunal. We found him guilty of his crimes and sentenced him…. We pumped him full of the very drugs he'd been pushing us to take." She laughed low in the back of her throat. "They keep him here, mostly in a cell smaller than this."

"I see," Circe moved to where she'd placed the cup. "Perhaps it's time to free the demon and set the bitch upon him." She looked at the Greek girl who was now coming to her senses. "You've severed me well, little Greek… however this is the last you will see of me."

Lilith stood up, "No, don't leave me here," she begged. "I'll die if you leave me here."

"Then you will die," Circe said without any compassion. "You've severed your purpose."

Lilith screamed out as the Fae vanished, leaving her in the cramped cell with a clear mind.

--

Daryl Daniels was indeed in a cell, small if possible than that of the Greek girl. He was bound, tied in a white leather straight jacket. Circe, still manipulating time, entered the cell. Tugging his head back by the hair on his head she poured just enough of the potion she'd created down his throat to make him manageable. As his eyes began to clear she asked at his ear, "Care to get a bit of vengeances?"A cruel look of pleasure filled his hateful eyes. Standing back the Fae woman commanded. "Come with me." Daniels rose to his feet; the confining jacket fell at his feet. His face was twisted with heinous delight.

--

Tanya clung to Jareth breathing deeply and basking in what she thought was the afterglow of first love. "I never dreamed," she whispered breathily.

Jareth let her cling, knowing she was thinking that they had taken the first steps toward the altar. "It was as I expected," he muttered softly in her ear. "And I am pleased."

"Oh Jareth," she crooned. "I'm so happy."

'Of course you are,' he smiled but kept his thoughts closeted. "As am I," he kissed her forehead.

Looking up, and seeing how high the sun had risen in the sky she sighed. "I must go soon… it would not due for them to look for me where I cannot be found." She blushed. "I told my mother I was going for a ride," she explained.

"And a ride was taken," he teased lightly, enjoying her blush. "I shall let you go, for now." His fingers traced the identifying mark his amulet had left above her heart. "Soon there will come a day when I shall not be so generous."

Tanya, unaware that Rosalind bore the same mark, looked down at what she believed was a private thing between her and the Goblin King. "I look forward to that day," she added softly. "My darling." Then she slipped from the bed and began to gather her garments and dressed while the King watched her from the chaise. "When should I come again?"

"Tomorrow," Jareth said with a sly smile. "Come to me tomorrow."

She placed the bonnet back upon her head and giggling gave him a curtsey and ran off. Once her back was to him, he let the smile drop. He sat up and flicked his wrist; his garments instantly were back on in proper order. Waiting just long enough to be sure she was beyond his boarders, the Goblin King rose from the chaise lounge and exited the pavilion. He strolled toward the castle, encountering Donatien as he made his way toward his citadel.

"Is all as it should be Sire?" the Master of the Guild inquired.

"What I won't do for this Kingdom," growled the King feeling unfulfilled. He passed the other and headed toward his tower.

"Where are you going?" Donatien asked holding a ledger out to the man. "WE have work before us, Sire."

"Work will wait," Jareth said hotly. "I need a workout, that girl I've just taken is about as thrilling as a lecture by one of the old Fae…. I need Sarah…. Then, and only then will I be ready for work." He transformed to owl and flew in the direction of the tower.

Donatien lowered the ledger, "Indeed." He smirked as he walked toward the garden at the base of the tower to await his soon to be wife. When moments later Daisy joined him he asked easily. "Did she greet him lovingly?"

"She threw a chair at him," Daisy laughed.

"Hit or miss?" Asked the man looking at the mixed breed Hobgoblin woman with hungry eyes.

"Oh she hit, and if anything it fired him more," Reported the happy woman.

Donatien invited her to take a seat on the garden wall beside him. "They become more and more goblin, do they not?"

"Yes," agreed the woman. "Thank the gods."

Placing a hand on hers, he asked. "Do you find the wait grueling?"

"I do," she admitted. "I long to be the one flinging chairs…"

"Soon," he comforted his bride to be amid the sounds of fury that drifted down from the tower room.