Three

Dinner with the Wimberly's passed with more conversation regarding the ball. The Countess and her daughter had already decided upon colors and a theme. The topic only proved to irritate Jareth. In his mind he saw Lord Edenberge, his awkward nose, thin lips, and pasty skin. Then he would see him self approaching the lord from behind, a mighty axe in hand. In one fell sweep Lord Edenberge's head would slide forward, flying away from his body. Blood would spray in a bright explosion of red fireworks, sending sparks out to land on his face and shirt.

By the third mental enactment, he shifted in his seat and sipped his wine. He could have handled the beatings, cleaned her up and dealt with her, but rape! 'No wonder she called her self broken,' he thought. Leslie mentioned something about masks. It drew his attention back to their conversation. She wanted a masked ball! He sipped from his wine glass again. Not that such events as masquerades were uncommon, hardly, but the timing was ironic.

"You ladies will excuse us," said the Count when the dishes were cleared. "But the king and I have business to discuss."

With a warm smile Leslie left the room following her mother. She glanced back to look questioningly at Jareth- will you spend time with me later? The look asked. He smiled and nodded in response.

"It is a fine thing to find such favor in your sight King Jareth," said the Count raising his wine glass.

Jareth extended a hand towards him. "It helps that the company is so agreeable."

"We would have paid you a visit sooner, but I had pressing business at home that needed attendance. Now Jareth let us speak frank with one another." His finger began to lazily trace the lip of his wine glass. "I am no fool and I feel confident enough to surmise that you are far from a fool as well."

Jareth nodded graciously.

The wine glass began to sing as the Count continued, "This wedding will serve both of us well. You shall have finer crops to feed your subjects-,"

"And you shall have the aid of my goblin warriors."

Here the Count paused both in speech and the caressing of the glass' lip. "It does not bother me that this isn't a union of love. Please, spare me any excuses," he briskly said when Jareth began to protest. After all he did enjoy Leslie's company. "you find my daughter attractive- sate your desires and bring forth a mighty heir. Surely you can have little objection to such an arrangement, eh?" He chuckled.

"Very little," he agreed dutifully. He finished off his wine. "I should think that the ladies are anxious for our company." Together the two men rose from the table and moved into the adjoining room.

Leslie encouraged him to leave the company of her parents. The night was too cold for a walk in the gardens, so he led her to a near by gallery. They walked in silence side by side. So many evenings had passed in the same manner: conversation, a little business, a walk with Leslie, and then all parting on the terms that they would meet again soon. This night though Jareth pondered what her father had said. It seemed all parties involved were of an accord- the kingdom must come first. "Jareth?" Leslie's voice gained his attention. "You do like me don't you?"

He smiled crookedly. "I am in your company alone without an escort- yes, Leslie, I like you."

"And do you-," She drew him towards a shadowed corner. "Do you find me attractive?"

In the dim light he saw her face eager for his response. "Yes my dear I find you attractive."

As if she could become any more flustered, her breathing notably quickened with his answer. "Then kiss me Jareth!" she exclaimed.

"What boldness is this?" he questioned holding her chin. His crooked grin melted into a smile.

"Convince me that there is at least a little more to us than business."

He heard her father's word in his mind. Did he have the patience to merely keep the peace? Bringing his arm around her waist he drew her close. "Then kiss you I shall, my pretty woman." And he pressed his lips to hers.

Kissing was an act that Jareth considered him self to be well versed in. He understood it as a sensual act; movement that gave and received. While he could not deny that having a young, firm female body pressed against his own was arousing, he could not say that he felt impassioned by the experience. He kissed her deeper pushing the boundaries of propriety. Leslie complied by sliding a hand into his hair.

'What is wrong with you?' Jareth argued with him self. 'You're a man, she's a woman… Get it together man!'

Gently he pulled out of the kiss. He couldn't perform with her, not Leslie the dear sweet innocent who was entrusting her future to him; not tonight at least. Conflicting images of a bloodied, beheaded Edenberge, a naked Sarah Williams in his bed, and Leslie's braids coming undone just made the task confusing. He kept his eyes closed a second longer. When he opened them he regarded the woman before him with a kind expression. "Your parents," he said. "are probably anxious over your whereabouts." Having drawn away he offered her his arm. "My lady?"

After returning her to her parents and having said goodnight, he went up to his chambers. His physician was slumped over in a chair- he woke him and sent him back to his own room. On the bed lay Sarah eyes closed, covered with the white sheet. Bartholomew's care was evident- several of her bruises were fading and her hair was smoothed. It helped that she was all ready half changed, half fae. If he were to give his blessing tonight then she would be healed in less than a day. He wondered if she knew about her change.

He climbed on the bed next to her, moving slowly so as not to disturb her sleep. As he adjusted his position the sheet shifted: she was naked. Her left breast was fully exposed to him. Five years ago he would have welcomed such a sight, and hardly anything would have halted him from touching her. He realized suddenly that he was staring at her. 'One moment you're struggling to perform, the next you're a gawking pervert,' he thought rolling his eyes. 'By Oberon, she is still a beauty.' Leaning near he whispered, "Heal Sarah Williams." He allowed him self one last look at her. "Heal and live." He pulled the sheet over her chest.

In the middle of the night she awoke once whimpering and kicking at the covers. It startled him out his sleep. Sitting up he realized she was dreaming, fighting at some invisible demon. The sheet flew away from her and she sat up as well, her eyes open, but not focusing. "No!" she screamed into the night.

He put a hand on her shoulder to guide her back to a lying position. She swung at him though and yelled again. "Sarah!" he called. When she raised her fist again he caught her and twisted her arm back. Using his other hand he held her body against his. "Sarah, you are safe! Sarah," he called again.

She screamed as if in pain. "No, no, no!" she yelled thrashing against him.

Her screams were going to wake the whole household. Holding her arms he used his weight to force her over, pinning her against the mattress. "Sarah." She lay still, trembling and crying. He loosened his hold. Instead of fighting him, she huddled her self against his chest.

They lay there, the bed in disarray. He dared not move to cover her again fearful of another out burst. The trembling subsided and she slept. Relaxing his hold, Jareth swore quietly into the night. He was going to kill Lord Edenberge. How dare another fae behave so debased, so foully with a woman? The horror she endured he could only remotely begin to comprehend. Yes, Lord Edenberge was as good as dead.