Four

1

Sarah had come to terms with the fact that she had been beaten and raped. It had happened. The details of how she had gone from the college grounds to the foreign bedroom were still hazy, but she believed the events to be real. There had been a man involved… or had there been two or three? Half asleep she furrowed her brow. This last night though, the odd surreal sleeping arrangement had to be a dream. He would never treat her so gentlemanly or be so accommodating. He hated her. He was a spoiled brat.

She was sure of these sentiments.

At least the bed she found her self in was comfortable. The sheets smelt of cloves and were so soft against her skin. 'My bare skin,' she realized. Slowly she opened her eyes. Finding her self confronted with the upper chest male anatomy immediately made her reconsider her mental state. Then she became aware that an arm was around her shoulders. 'Holy-!' Her brain was reeling unable to even properly curse under the circumstances. Carefully raising her self she saw him: Jareth the Goblin King sleeping with his arms around her.

Having maneuvered away from him she scrambled off of the bed in a panic. How could this be real? There had been a massive room filled with people in long robes. Confused she held her head. He had been there. He had taken her. But there had been someone else too. An elf who could have been a character right out of a J. R. R. Tolkien novel. Bartholomew! What had he done with her clothes?

The room had two doors- one had to be a closet or at the least a bathroom. Jareth stirred in his sleep. Quietly she moved to the nearest door. It proved to be a bathroom slash toilet. One part sectioned off for clothing, the other a bath area. Having closed the door she went for the clothes. Once dressed, she could figure out a way to escape. There was no way she was going to wait to learn what sort of cruel mind game his highness had in mind to play.

She caught sight of her self in a mirror: she should have looked worse. Only the slightest out line of a bruise around her eye remained. She dropped the shirt she had grabbed hold of. Not a single cut or abrasion marred her skin. No her skin was near perfect. The fever, which had burned her so, was even gone. No matter the skill of the physician, this sort of healing was humanly impossible.

Jareth had healed her.

Absently her fingers touched her skin on her left side just under her breast. Vaguely she remembered being scratched. There had been a frenzy of hand movements. Her rapist had clawed at her clothing and left marks on her skin. Nothing remained there, just the haunting memory.

She picked up the shirt again and pulled it over her head. She should at least wait to talk to him, to see what he wanted, or at least thank him. Her body covered, she opened the door and peered into the bedroom: he was lying still. Moving cautiously she approached the bed. It had been five years since she had seen him- did he look the same? Had he aged at all? His shaggy blonde hair was definitely longer. He was still that creamy pale color though that leant him a near angelic appeal. She leaned forward to better see his face.

2

When he felt her quit the bed, Jareth thought it best to let her be. After all of the trauma she had suffered and then waking to find them in bed together, no doubt would lead to defensiveness. He didn't need her screaming again. He prayed to the Seven Graces that the Wimberly's had not heard her hysterics during the night. Explaining Sarah was going to take some devising, but that sort of scheming would hardly be beneficial before breakfast.

Lazily he rolled over meeting the warmth of the place she had laid. She had felt so soft against him. The opportunity to protect her had rendered in him a sort of satisfaction that was new. He liked it. Feeling a presence near, he opened his eyes: Sarah was leaning over him studying him. Upon seeming him awake she started away mumbling an apology and then, "Good morning."

Apparently she had done some snooping for her nakedness was covered by one of his shirts. The wide collar did little more than hide her breasts and the long sleeves drooped over her hands. The ruffled cuffs she picked at not meeting his gaze. Her appearance was so alluring in its simplicity that he had to remind himself that not more than twenty-four hours ago she had been a bloodied, crumpled mess. Sitting up he returned her greeting. "I do hope the morning finds you… better?" he then asked.

"Yes." A pause in which he was sure several stitches had been broken on the cuff of his shirt. "Thank you," she added.

"You are welcome. I was not in favor of you dying."

"Why not?" she asked briskly.

There in was the ultimate question: why? He had been making due just fine without her. "I must admit my curiosity generally over rules any other inclinations." He leaned forward on his knees. "Just what had Sarah Williams done to be discovered in such a state? I wanted to know."

Awkwardly her eyes flickered to him and away again. "It was stupid. So now what?"

"Well, I am going to bathe before breakfast." Turning he moved aside the covers. He saw her flinch. She was so tense. With a sigh he moved through to the wash room.

Several of his servants quickly appeared and began to draw his bath. The tub was situated behind a partition. As he gathered together a few bathing needs he realized that Sarah lingered at the door. She seemed so unsure of her self. 'Lost,' he thought moving around the partition. "No the lady will not be joining me," he informed an inquisitive servant. Having sent them away he stripped and climbed into the tub. "Sarah!" he called out. "Come near and talk to me." He heard her feet hesitate. "As close as you are comfortable." Having reached for his sponge he added, "Though I am sure that I'm not the first naked man you've seen."

She leaned against the opposite side of the wall. "And I am sure I'm not your first naked woman."

He smirked. "Quite so. Well now that there aren't any misgivings over matters of virginity, then tell me Sarah what happened?"

He heard her sigh long and weary. "Why do you care?"

"Sate my curiosity. Did you know you were becoming involved with a fae?" he pressed.

"Yeah, I knew. I knew before he revealed him self."

He worked the sponge vigorously over his arms. "And did you lie about your virginity to him?"

"See that's where things get muddled." She began to pace. "He knew! Oh yes, he knew. But then what got said when you found me… it's all most as if there were two men."

The water sloshed in his surprise.

"But then again, maybe not," she added.

He rinsed and got out of the water. Perhaps it would be better to just inform her that he knew her tormentor, Lord Edenberge. If he offered to work on her behalf, to gain her vengeance or retribution, would she accept? He pulled on a robe. As he tied it he rounded the partition to find her leaning against the wall. "What if I told you I knew who did this to you?" he asked her. She said nothing. "I would seek retribution for your honor Sarah."

She shook her head. "How Jareth- by beating him up? By having him raped?"

"I was considering something far simpler like slitting his throat."

"No. Besides it's not your battle. And it wasn't entirely his fault," she added.

"Sarah Williams!" he exclaimed putting his hands to his hips. "Were you or were you not forced?"

"Yes, but-," She stopped, pressing the sides of her head in frustration. "It's not that simple. Like I told you before, things are a bit muddled! What if there were two men involved? What if you hurt the wrong one? No, Jareth, I can't allow you to do that."

He was about to argue with her when one of his servants appeared at the door. The Wimberly's were gathered and waiting to eat with him. He huffed. "Fine. See here Sarah, I have company with me. For the duration of the day you will have to remain scarce." He went to his wardrobe. "I shall send one of my female servants, Meep, up to see to your needs and entertain you." Quickly he pulled an outfit together. "About your situation though, we are not finished discussing it."

"If anything, I see your stubbornness is still intact after five years," she exclaimed.

"Likewise," he retorted. "What sort of king would I be if I overlooked such debase activities?"

"It didn't happen on your turf."

"Regardless." He came out adjusting a jacket. "I still intend to do the right thing."

The servant who had appeared lingered. He cleared his throat, "Miss Wimberly begs you wear her color." He produced a yellow rose.

Jareth was sure he saw Sarah raise her eye brows in surprise. "Thank you Blot. That will do." He took the flower and worked it through a hole on his lapel. "Until later Sarah." He left her standing dumbfounded.