Thirteen

For several more days Sarah played the game. She stood close to Lord Edenberge, inclined her head when he spoke, and was eventually sitting next to him at every meal. He made her want to take a scolding hot bath after every encounter. As she prepared to go down to dinner the fourth evening, she wondered how Jareth was getting along with the Wimberly's. They had hardly spoken to one another since the guests had arrived; she left him to his own designs as much as he left her to her own.

Shortly after dinner Edenberge announced that he was going to retire early. A moment later, Sarah announced a similar desire. So focused was she on her mission that she failed to see Jareth's slight twitch around his eyes. In the gallery that held the bed chambers she spotted him, moving at a slow pace. "Lord Edenberge," she called to him softly. "Retiring all ready?"

"Ah my dear Lady Williams! Yes, I am retiring to my chambers. Perhaps you would care to sit with me for a bit?"

"Sit?" she repeated in mock disdain. "Come, come my good sir, surely we can do better than sit."

"Perhaps then we could discuss our common interests? You know I too have learned a great deal from the human world."

At this point they had stopped in the dimly lit hall. Sarah leaned close, feeling her gut twist as she heard the words coming out of her mouth, "I am a good student, and an equally eager teacher."

He licked his lips. "Shall we then my good lady?" Taking his arm she went with him.

Once in the room the man wouldn't stop smiling. Sarah wondered how many women he had been with; more importantly how many had been forced? Her fingers twitched. Edenberge sat on the edge of the bed, his legs spread wide in a crude invitation. She stood in front of him. "So what do you care to teach me?" he asked her while running a finger down her jaw line.

Sarah shuddered, hoping it to be interpreted as pleasure.

"I am quite willing to learn anything," he added smugly.

"Well," she paused placing a hand on his thigh. "Why don't you just be a good boy and sit still? No touching yet."

"Ah, I can do that."

She bit the inside of lip fighting her revulsion. His scent hung in the air almost like a literal mist. Casually she reached up and let down part of her hair. "Do you find me attractive Lord Edenberge?"

"Philip," he corrected. "Call me Philip, and by Oberon- yes, I do find you attractive!"

He was all ready breathing raggedly. This man was a pig. She moved near him again. "Remember, no touch-y yet. Philip," she leaned near to his ear. "You don't remember me do you?"

She felt him stiffen slightly. "Remember you-?" he asked with a hint of bewilderment.

While her one hand ran the length of his thigh distracting him, the other slipped between the panels on her bodice where she concealed her knife. In a blur she had the knife removed and held to his throat. Using the bed for balance she raised her knee to his crotch. Edenberge's smile vanished. "Because I remember you," she stated darkly.

"My dear Lady Williams, what are you doing?" he sputtered. "Please, I've never met you before-!"

"Liar!" she exclaimed pushing up on his groin.

This time he tensed and cried out in anticipation of the pain. "Please!"

The grip of the handle was like a white hot power source in her hand. "I'm the girl you brought to market after you beat and raped me!"

"By Oberon- no, no! No impossible! That girl was a mortal!"

Her hand that held the blade twitched. "I am that girl, I assure you Philip Endenberge. And you good sir shall pay for your sins!" Her voice dripped with sadistic pleasure.

"The Seven Graces preserve me! I was told you were a mortal slave girl! I didn't know!" The man had begun to sweat. "But I sear I never penetrated you! Please spare me!"

Sarah considered his words. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't shove your testicles up into your stomach and slit your throat."

"I can tell you who I bought you from!"

The other man with the other smell. "Who?" she demanded.

Edenberge gasped for breath. "He's some important fae, some royal who enjoys parading as a human-!"

"What's his name?"

"Ghads when one deals in slaves one usually doesn't ask for names-!"

She shoved up on the blade. "Name!" she yelled.

"I swear I don't know. He's a count, has a daughter and a wife, but a nasty fascination for humans. When one wants his services he sends word via the Countess Wimberly- that is all I know! Please," he begged. "Don't hurt me. I know no more!"

She drew he knife away. As a second thought though she grabbed the man by his shoulders and rammed her knee into his groin. Edenberge gasped and curled over. Stepping aside she let him fall to the ground, whimpering.

Out in the hall she saw Jareth standing pensively. Behind him was also Bartholomew. She stood there nearly sneering, and then spun on heel and stormed away. Jareth let her go. "Good doctor," he said addressing Bartholomew. "Go and see what ails Lord Edenberge, and strongly advise him to return home first thing in the morning. I shall attend to this other matter."

Sarah had gone to his study. She paced the room in front of the couch like an enraged cat. He could smell her adrenaline and almost hear her accelerated heart beat. Closing the door he waited for her to explain what had happened. "It wasn't him," she exclaimed balling her fists. "Says he bought me from someone, some count. Ghads, I can smell him all over me!"

If Jareth was being completely honest with himself he would have to admit to a degree of pride in her at this moment- she had proven her self fully committed. His pride mixed with his shared frustration. Lord Edenberge was an absolute sonofthebog, but not her rapist. "He shall be sent home immediately," he assured her moving around the couch. He watched her shudder recalling those few intimate moments she had spent in that room.

"Not him!" she yelled again. That was all she could dwell on- he hadn't raped her. Had he been inappropriate- yes. But only because he had been misled. Was he still a pig? Yes. "I had to behave as if I was interested in him. Accept his advances!" She felt rage and arousal all at once.

"Trust me- it was as equally hard to watch."

She stopped mid-pace and turned towards him. Had she wanted she could use that accelerated speed of hers and have her body pressed against his, kissing him. She could imagine his lips- velvet and smooth, accepting her mouth. She would tell him to touch her, to rid her of Lord Philip Edenberge's scent. Then it would be his smell, his scent- wild, free, and full of comfort- that would be all over her. She teetered for a moment, nearly acting on her thought.

Jareth placed a hand to his hip. "Did he say anything else, some sort of clue as to who he had bought you from?"

Shaking her head, trying to rid her self of images of a naked Jareth and Lord Edenberge bleeding like a stuffed pig. "No. Well, wait, yes. He said that when people wanted to inquire about getting a mortal slave, then they sent word via… via Countess Wimberly."

"The countess?" he repeated surprised.

"That's what he said! She may not even know the contents of the messages." She heaved a great sigh. "Well, I hope you've had better luck as of late?"

He shook his head. "Not really." He regarded her for a moment. "Perhaps a walk is in order- it would help to clear your mind."

A walk in the freezing cold night air would do her good. "Just let me get my warm things."

"Allow me." With a wave he pulled her fur lined cloak and a pair of gloves from the air. "Has everyone else retired for the evening?" she asked as he wrapped the cloak around her shoulders.

"Yes. No one knows what happened this evening, save us and Bartholomew."

"Great. Everyone else just thinks I screwed some man-whore." With a chuckle they disappeared from the room.

The night was extremely cold. Both of them breathed out white clouds of moisture as they walked. Sarah focused on all of the cold, drawing it in to her. She needed to calm her self before she thought of any more terribly brash, stupid ideas involving her and Jareth. He needed to sort things out with the Labyrinth. He needed to sort things out with Leslie Wimberly.

The moment that he had walked into his study, his mind had been filled with compromising images. Images of her naked in his wash room blurred over the ones of her pacing. The high of adrenaline and having been in such an overtly sexual situation had heightened her pheromones. It had taken all of his concentration not to become intoxicated. He had hoped that the cold night would serve him well to calm him self, but the sight of Sarah with her hair half down in the glow of the moon was breath taking.

They had reached a rather large tree and she stopped to lean against it, breathing in deep breaths with her eyes closed. At that moment he knew he wanted Sarah Williams. Coming near he braced an arm against the tree and leaned close to her face. "Sarah," he spoke her name in a quiet intimate way.

Without opening her eyes she turned away. "Don't Jareth." She dodged a low branch and moved around the tree.

"No, no don't fend me off now." He spoke in an even direct tone. He moved around the tree, following her.

"There's too much at stake right now," she said stepping over a projecting root.

"You've been waiting for me to make a decision and I have. The thought of you, in that room with that man, was awful, torturous." He stepped over the same root.

She backed away guiding her self around the tree. "But what about Miss Wimberly?" she asked. The cold air had done her good- she was able to think clearer. Unfortunately this side of the tree had a series of low branches- she found her self rather cornered. "She's a sweet kid… naïve, but still… sweet."

Jareth advanced closer. "Leslie Wimberly is only after security. I'm after passion. Seeing the both of you, side by side, made me realize what a fool I've been. I am asking you to trust me," he then said as he saw her hesitation. "The same as I trust you."

"But what if we're wrong? What if…what if this drought gets worse…there are lives at risk-,"

"Shh!" He laid a finger to her lips. "We're not making a mistake here. I give you my word that I will deal with things- deal with them as diplomatically and tactfully as I can. But I cannot," he went on to say his hand moving over her cheek. "go on another day denying myself of you."

Those were the words she been waiting for five years- no, her whole life- to hear him proclaim. He was close, achingly so. The freezing air was no longer her ally; all it did now was prompt her body's heating system to go into over drive.

She realized that he had kissed her. His lips had touched her, slight and quick. It had been like an electric jolt; her shoulders had actually started. Then he kissed her again and she held onto him, kissing back. The last month had been an emotional over load; within his embrace she found her self crying. They were happy tears though. He held her face and kissed her eyes. "Never leave me again," she begged him.

"Never, never, never," he whispered to her. "My precious one, my Sarah." Lifting her close against him he kissed her deep and long. Her body melded to his in a perfect snug fit; the way he had imagined it would.

Kissing him was like experiencing a high; she felt near delirious. "This is crazy," she exclaimed hugging him.

"No, crazy was letting you go five years ago. This," he kissed her cheek and then her forehead. "This is perfection my precious one."

She touched forehead to forehead with him, smiling. "We are going to have to be very careful, act accordingly for a while."

"I shall speak with Leslie first thing in the morning. I simply cannot forgo this delicious experience any longer than I have to. Don't look so serious at me Sarah," he chastised her when she shook her head. "Don't you trust me?"

Here she was with the man who had played a game with her, taunted her, flirted with her, lost her, rescued her, trained her, and had ultimately fallen in love with her. "Intimately," she replied. "Now get me back inside before we both fall ill in this cold."

"One more kiss, precious one. One more and then goodnight."