Sarah shot up, gasping as her limbs fought the tangle of sheets twisting around her. Her fingers traced her kiss-swollen lips as she caught her breath before gingerly touching the tender spot where Jareth's sigil pricked her…unlike sleeping beauty, she woke up.
What would have happened without it? How far would she have let it go? What did it mean? Did the kiss set her free? Break her curse? Would she finally sleep?
Any hope was snuffed out. Her palm twitched with anger and frustration before settling into fearsome determination and triumph.
Kicking herself free, she stumbled to the bathroom. She opened the cabinet below her sink. They had to be here somewhere. She dug into the back, feeling around random bottles of half-empty lotions and shampoo she didn't like but couldn't bring herself to throw away after spending money on them until she pulled out an old makeup bag once cute and now mottled with the powder of a broken eye shadow palette. Pulling the zipper open, she found what she was desperately searching for.
She'd been saving them for an emergency. Stowed away since her college days. If Jareth was happy, something was wrong. She could at least buy herself some time before she had to face the consequences of her weakness.
She moved as though she was on autopilot. No thinking. Her body ran through the motions it knew so well. Picking out clothes and returning to the bathroom. She briefly considered calling in, but she needed to get out of her apartment. Out of her own head.
A vision of Jareth looming over her, muscles flexing as he wrapped his arms around her, his lips on hers. Nothing could have prepared her for the thrall that would consume her. She always thought something was wrong with her. Lisa's descriptions never matched her own experiences. No butterflies or fireworks. She grew up believing romance novels were impossible lies. Fantasies that could never come true. Lisa promised her she just hadn't met the right guy. And yet, Lisa managed to find a never-ending supply.
Hmm. Lisa. Sarah thought of her friend as she washed her face and brushed her hair. Hopefully, She would find out where Lisa was Friday. At least that would distract her for a few minutes. Anything to help her get through the day.
Before she realized it, she was ready for work. Her commute, usually a tedious drive, was over all too soon and she found herself joining Lisa at her cubicle. Why was it that time seemed to run so much faster when dread was involved?
"Hey. You okay?" asked Sarah.
Lisa's forehead furrowed, confusion marring her pretty face.
"Because you didn't show Friday night?" Sarah prompted.
"Oh! Oh-my-god. I'm so sorry. It totally slipped my mind. Brock and I decided to be exclusive so we're celebrating this new development…you know how it is."
Sarah shrugged. "Yeah, sure. Of course." No. She didn't know. Her relationships never made it past casual talking. Every potential relationship fizzled as each guy would disappear, never calling her back.
"But you have a new man too, right?" She leaned forward. "How's Mr. Bad Boy doing?"
Sarah's face was set aflame. "He's not–we're not–" her words stumbled over her tongue.
"Really?" Lisa crossed her arms. "Then what's all that about?" She pointed to the fierce blush painting Sarah's cheeks. "Did you sleep with him?"
"What? No– well, something happened."
Lisa sat as though she had to brace herself, preparing for the news. "Spill."
Sarah's brain sputtered in protest. She hadn't had time to process what had happened yet. She'd actively been avoiding any and all thoughts about last night. "Um…we kissed."
An exasperated sigh turned into a disappointed groan. "A kiss? A kiss? Really, Sarah. All that for a kiss? God, you're such a prude." She laughed and added, "I was hoping for some spice. Brock and I didn't leave my bed for hours until we were about to die from dehydration. Pshh. A kiss."
Mr. Villalobos emerged from nowhere tapping his watch. "Ladies, we're on the clock. Save the gossip for your personal time."
Lisa rolled her eyes as soon as their boss turned his attention toward other slackers. She waved Sarah away then spun towards her computer.
Sarah meandered to her own cubicle she turned her desktop on waiting for it to boot up. Sitting down, she tapped her paperwork into a neat stack. Neat and orderly. Just like her.
Could she ever be like Lisa? Spontaneous? Adventurous? Could a kiss ever just be a kiss? Her screen blinked at her. The cursor waiting. She grabbed her mouse and silently admonished herself for even asking that. A kiss with Jareth would never be just a kiss. Nothing with him would ever be uncomplicated.
She let the meds do their work as she turned her attention away from her woes and onto her work. Work that was mind-numbing and tedious. Everything she needed to hold off those currents of imagination that would lead her down the path of daydreams. Those could be as dangerous as the Fae King who often featured in them. Wooing her to relax and give in. Never. She couldn't and wouldn't succumb. Not ever, if she could help it.
Jareth tapped his boots on his desk as he lounged, staring out the window. His fingers tapped his lips, his thoughts drifting once more to last night.
His body vibrated with anticipation. Where would he take her first? What would she appreciate? The ballroom? No. Not another damnable ballroom. The throne room would be too forward. Show his cards much too soon. The study or the solarium. Perhaps the tower observatory.
His palm itched. Concern and anxiety, not his own, mingled with his excitement. Sarah was not as happy as she should be. He should have known she would never make anything easy.
Jareth sat upright. His feet planted firmly on the floor once more as he stared at the mountain of correspondence on his desk that required his attention. But he struggled to think of anything but her.
Taking a letter, he sliced under the wax seal of some lower noble. He could not let thoughts of Sarah detract him from keeping their kingdom running. With her by his side, all this mundane drudgery would cease to be the bane of his existence. It would be them against the world.
He never had need of such alliances before but it was truly tempting to think of them working together. Planning and scheming. The thought of Sarah conspiring with him instead of against him was not only a fascinating prospect but an enticing one as well. She would be captivating and charming, puppeting their unknowing adversaries with a few lessons in Fae diplomacy. She would easily maneuver other kingdoms to bow before them.
He set aside the letter he had no intention of responding to and took a leather folder from the top of the stack and opened it. Dipping his quill, he signed the proclamation inside. These ridiculous edicts were another inane necessity to keep the peace with the lower classes of creatures. This one declared every seventh Odinsday a holiday from work after sundown. The little blights didn't realize they already stopped work at dark every day, drank until they passed out, then rose with the sun the next day. But they demanded a holiday. Said the Fae had too many festivals they were not invited to. And for good reason, most of them.
He closed the missive to open a new one. As long as they didn't burn their tattered village down there was no reason not to sign these. He skimmed the writing before him and signed another proclamation allowing chickens to accompany goblins to work. As if they were not already everywhere. The stack of leather folders was sent to his council. They would make the appropriate announcements.
Jareth saw a seal on another letter he recognized. What did Neiryll want this time? His eyes scanned the elegant handwriting. More trolls on the border. There must be a larger hoard in the mountains. They were less destructive than giants but more prolific. At least Neiryll wrote this time.
He summoned the shadow goblin that morphed into existence pulling from the shadows under a nearby table. "Trolls are attacking the border of the wilds again. Take out as many as you can and report back. I'll have another assignment for you."
The goblin disappeared with a bow and manic gleam in his eye. Jareth hadn't forgotten the traitor who still needed to be sniffed out and dealt with. He needed to maintain the shroud of secrecy he had worked so hard to build. He could not have news of Sarah traveling between worlds circulating. A human with ties to the Labyrinth and Goblin King would make her a target. He would prefer to delay other's awareness of her at least until her coronation.
Perhaps he should commission her a desk of her own just on the other side of his so he could watch her work. He already regretted following the old tradition of separate suites for the king and queen. Especially after what brief delights they shared last night. The other room, however beautiful, would remain as unused as it is now. He would never allow her to sleep so far away once he finally had her.
Sarah's knuckles whitened as she swayed, gripping the edge of her bathroom sink. She hadn't slept in two days thanks to what few pills she had but those were gone and she was dangerously close to crashing.
She'd felt Jareth's excitement and knew she was in danger. She just needed time to think but her brain couldn't function. She had stared at a spreadsheet earlier today for half an hour trying to figure out a formatting technique that was pure muscle memory last week.
People asked if she was sick and kept their distance as she passed in an effort to stave off whatever gruesome germs ravaged her visage. Her eyes were bloodshot, afraid to blink for too long. Purple dappled the delicate skin underneath. Add the staggering gait and she would fully assume the presence of a zombie.
She felt like one. Her brain was exhausted. Not just from the lack of sleep, but from the kiss that replayed in her mind over and over again. The unknown consequences were driving her as insane as the sleep deprivation. What had she even hoped to accomplish by staying awake this long but prolonging the inevitable?
Her concern grew with the elation she randomly felt through her connection with Jareth. If he was that happy, it was not good. The longer she stayed awake, that elation turned to frustration. Which emotion was worse? She wasn't sure. She was so tired. Tired of not knowing but too terrified to find out.
Leaning over the sink, she scrubbed her face and rinsed with cold water, stumbling as she reached for her towel. She braced her weight against the wall as she blotted her damp skin. Dropping the linen, she slid down the wall until she sat on the floor. Everything danced before her eyes. She hugged her legs to her chest, resting her forehead on her knees, letting her eyes close for just a moment.
Jareth stalked the empty darkened halls of his castle. No torches were lit. He had no use for them. The moon shone its blue light through the windows casting shadows every few feet.
His patience wore thin, thinking they were past such antics. He could feel her wavering anxiety. She was once again purposefully avoiding him by unnatural means. Cheating him of his victory.
Why would she do that? He could sense the dread and feel her concentration slipping as their connection waxed and waned. So he waited. She could not deny him forever.
As soon as he felt her finally slip through the veil between their worlds, he appeared in the Labyrinth ready to rush to her side within the ballroom. Ready to coax kisses from her lips once more. All she needed was a reminder of what she fought so hard against and how sublime it was to surrender.
He nearly trampled over her in his eagerness. Taking a step back, he observed the heap of woman on the ground. She sat on the ground where two of the ivy-covered walls of the dead end met, curled up on herself. Her straight hair shielded her face. She was dressed in clothes befitting a pauper. Loose tatters where she should be in beautiful nightgowns.
"Well, what do we have here? Cowering in a corner again? Where is my brave Champion now?" he taunted expecting her to rise to the occasion as she always did. "Surely, not still afraid of me? After all this time? Or maybe you are scared of yourself?"
"I'm not scared." Her head lifted, meeting his gaze as he leaned against the ivy, arms crossed looking every bit like the villain who burst into her parent's room so many years ago. "I'm tired."
Jareth's breath hitched straightening from the wall, his arms dropping to his sides as he saw Sarah. Really saw her. Deep amaranthine cradled her green eyes. Her face was hollow. Dark shadows lined her cheekbones. Her body was gaunt and devoid of any health and vigor. The glamour of the ballroom had certainly been effective.
Sarah took his silence as an opportunity. "I'm tired of sleeping but never getting rest. Tired of running in fear of being caught. Tired of not even knowing what I'm running from." She fought back the tears that threatened to rise not wanting to give him the satisfaction.
"Then stop running," he said. This never would have gone this far had she not been so stubborn.
She glared up at him. "Stop chasing me."
"I wouldn't have to chase you if you didn't run."
"I wouldn't have to run if you didn't chase me." She rested her head again, too tired to hold it up any longer. Had she finally reached the point where she didn't care what happened to her anymore?
Jareth knelt down in front of her. Reaching out he offered his hand. No crystal bauble to distract. Just his hand.
She leaned back, eyeing his hand, suspicion raising her heart rate. "What are you doing?"
"As ever, offering you your dreams."
Sarah hesitated staring at the matching scar on the hand he held out. "What would I be accepting?"
His eyes rolled as he let out an exasperated sigh. He snatched her hand before she could waste what little energy she had on useless protests, pulling them both to their feet.
Sarah found herself in a bedroom double, maybe even triple, the size of her entire apartment. A fireplace took up most of the opposite wall with a sitting area near. To her right, was the largest bed she had ever seen. Carved dark wood with curtains and damask bedding. Tables, chairs, and dressers were placed around the room. She turned and saw the wall was missing. The wall behind her was almost nonexistent instead a glassless window overlooked the Labyrinth that sprawled beneath them in the distance.
"What did you– You can't–" She pushed away from him weakly. What was happening? Where had he taken her? "Take me back."
"I assure you I can, however, not for whatever melodramatic reason you may have concocted in that addled brain of yours."
She eyed him then the room suspiciously. She was clearly in a bedroom… his bedroom by the luxury surrounding her. "Then why?"
"Get some sleep, Sarah." Jareth turned, transforming into an owl, and flew away.
Sarah stood there for a minute dumbfounded. She scanned the room. Her ears pulsed with the rapid rushing of her heart. Tears welled as she struggled to control her breathing. She saw multiple doors. But what would she find behind them? An oubliette? Another room full of stairs? A goblin army? How was she supposed to get home? If she pinched herself now, she might find herself at home but would inevitably end up right back in the Labyrinth. She swayed, catching herself on a chair.
Could she even trust Jareth? Was this a trap meant to lure her into a false sense of security? The bed was tempting, but no way could she allow herself to crawl into his bed. That would be like inviting a vampire into your home. There was a small sofa near the fireplace. She could just sit there. There was no real harm in that? Was there?
She made her way to the sitting area. Her body slumped in the down cushions. The flames danced, casting hypnotic shadows on the hearth. The tick of an ornate clock on the mantle lulled her as she waited. Maybe she could close her eyes for just a second. They were so heavy. She was so tired…just a second.
Jareth soared over twisting walls, craving the physical exertion, to the dusty landscape just outside the Labyrinth, landing next to a lone tree on a hill. Reverting to his true form, sand crunched under his boots as he paced trying to calm the rising anger that simmered. Not towards her but himself. He materialized a crystal. As he threw it with all his might, it morphed into a ball of fire engulfing the dried trunk of the dead tree.
All these years, he believed she was being foolish, obtuse, obstinate. Never understanding her connections to this world. But he was the fool.
How had this happened? How, in all this time, had he never considered the effect her dream walking would have on her physically? She was mortal. Needed sleep far more than the Fae.
And the years they spent in their merry chase had certainly taken its toll. He raked his hands down his face trying to scrub the vision of her in her rags, all gaunt angles, and sallowed skin. He needed her hale and hardy. Alive. She was no good to him dead. He needed to ensure her health. Closing his eyes he searched their bond for any hint of emotional turmoil and found none. Which could only mean she was finally asleep.
He doused the flames leaving nothing but a blackened skeleton where the tree once was. In an instant, he was back in his room. His bed was empty, but he knew she was still here. He carefully crossed the room to find her curled up on his chaise. So small and frail.
He had her where he wanted her after so long. But it was a hollow victory. He had never put someone else's needs before his own. He had, of course, acted in the best interests of his kingdom and citizens. But never one person. He could lie to himself that this benefitted the kingdom. The Labyrinth would be happy if Sarah was. If she was safe within his castle, then it would protect them. But he knew that was secondary to these new feelings. Knew that for the first time, he would deny himself what he so desperately desired to ensure her health and happiness. For now.
Sarah's arms stretched over her head, toes pointing to maximize her full length. Her eyes fluttered open and her bathroom slowly came into focus. Her apartment. She sat up gingerly sore from either Jareth's couch or her floor but she still felt somehow better.
Her alarm blared from her bedroom. She scrambled from the floor to turn it off. How late was she? She couldn't miss work today even if she wanted to but getting yelled at was the last thing she needed. Turning the alarm clock off, she realized if she hurried she could still make it in time. And did without incident.
Her whole day rushed by in a flurry of trainings for a new computer program the company was switching to. She was surprised by her ability to absorb the new information. Lunch was provided for once so there wasn't even any opportunity to break away and pick Lisa's brain.
Before she knew it, she was back home lying in bed. It was the first day in so long that she hadn't had to fight for every ounce of energy and concentration to make it through the hours that trickled by at a glacial pace. It was also the first time in so many years that the thought of sleep did not terrify her. She still had concerns and reservations but deep down she hoped for another night of rest.
With a long exhale, she closed her eyes. A breeze teased the baby hairs tickling her face. She stared at the door hiding behind ivy. She could go through the door but did she need to? Did she want to? What did she want? Could she trust herself to make the right decisions anymore?
Jareth appeared behind Sarah. She was dressed in rags again. Plaid pants and an oversized shirt that hid any and all of her figure. Her hair was braided below her shoulders. He felt her wavering. She knew he was there. But he waited, extending his hand, for her to acknowledge him. He didn't have to wait long.
Sarah turned her back to the door. He was there dressed in all black. His shirt open and waving gently with the wind. Her breath caught at the sight of him so similar to those last minutes before her victory. Slowly she placed her hand in his and closed her eyes to protect herself from disorientation when her surroundings suddenly changed. The first thing she noticed when she opened them was a small table.
"Sit," Jareth said, pulling out a chair.
Sarah immediately complied though she wasn't sure why. She expected him to sit across from her but he remained standing. A silver tray with a lid appeared in front of her.
He lifted the lid revealing what appeared to be beef Wellington, bacon-wrapped asparagus, roasted tomatoes, and mashed potato puffs. "Eat," he said.
The aroma was intoxicating. Her frozen French bread pizza seemed like pig slop in comparison. Do not eat fairy food. How many times had she read that while researching?
Her mouth watered at the sight before her but she somehow managed to refuse. "I can't."
Jareth's brows quirked as amusement tugged at the corner of his mouth. "It's a little late for that, Sarah dear. You've already eaten fairy food."
He disappeared but his voice echoed in her ears, "And sleep in the bed this time."
That stupid peach, she thought. It always came back to that. Her stomach growled spurring her on to pick up the silver knife and fork. She might as well since she was already damned. She cut into the Wellington, not surprised that it was perfectly cooked unlike the one time Karen managed to overcook the meat yet create a soggy crust. They all ate it anyway knowing how hard she had tried.
The bite melted in her mouth. Her eyes closed and a hum of appreciation broke the silence of the room. For a brief moment, she didn't even care if she would be trapped because the food was so sublime it was worth it. She took a sip of water choosing to ignore the wine before tasting the rest of the meal.
As she ate, her eyes traveled over the room again taking in details she missed the night before. Everything in the room was opulent masculinity. Black damask and dark woods created a brooding atmosphere.
She couldn't believe he just left her alone in his private room. All his personal effects were behind doors and hidden in drawers. What would she find inside those nightstands? A journal? A diary? A little black book? The thought of that almost ruined her appetite but she turned her attention elsewhere. She followed the crown molding around the edge of the room, half expecting to see anything that could spy on her. A crystal, a goblin, maybe a fairy..but found none. She was really alone in his room enjoying the best food she had ever eaten.
When she had cleared her plate, it disappeared and a beautiful piece of cake appeared with swirls of sugared frosting on top. How are you enjoying my Labyrinth? Her cheeks heated at the reminder of his taunting in the tunnels as he loomed over her and her own audacity at her response. Of course, he would find a way to remind her.
The cake was almost too beautiful to eat but she used the side of her spoon to break off a piece anyway. It was the perfect decadent sweetness to end such a savory meal.
With her stomach full and eyes sleepy she considered his last command. Should she sleep in his bed? Could she?
It was almost too weird to even possibly be an option. She'd been running from him so long and now she was supposed to sleep in his bed?
She approached the furniture in question. It was larger than any she'd ever seen. A monument, she supposed, to the one who slept in it. The wood was ornately carved with twists and curves that seemed impossible. She ran her finger over the brocade bedspread. Of course, it was the silkiest cloth. What was it even made out of? She felt too poor to even touch it in her flannel pants and old college t-shirt. She looked to the chaise she'd slept in last night. It wasn't the worst place she'd ever slept but definitely not as comfortable as this bed would be.
"What the hell," she murmured to herself with a shrug as she pulled back the duvet to reveal black satin sheets. Of course, they are. He was a king after all. It would make sense for him to surround himself in luxury although in her run she seemed to recall a lot of filth and chickens. Curious.
She climbed into the bed. His bed. Heat climbed up her neck and over her face. The scent of expensive cologne wafted off his pillows as she laid back. It was decadent. Stars twinkling on the ceiling of his canopy mimicked the night sky outside. Anxiety knotted in her stomach. She counted the stars for what seemed like forever, finally falling asleep almost expecting him to show up at any moment and ignoring the almost disappointment when he didn't.
Jareth perched on a barrel in the shadows, grateful for the distraction. His Tytonidaen vision keen and sharp in the darkness of the alley between two taverns in a village outside the Labyrinth. Trade with other lands was conducted here and other outlying villages. Only his own citizens could travel in and out of the Labyrinth at will. All others had to be granted permission to use the portals otherwise hidden to them.
But rumors knew no borders just as those who spread them knew no loyalty. His shadow goblins had whittled down the number of possible traitors to a handful of Fae citizens. He set the workings of his trap into motion carefully crafting lies that differed in detail from each other. It was only a matter of time before his spies reported the whispers they heard beyond their boundaries.
His prey, a Fae named Mossryn, appeared. A clever enough carpenter but greed had obviously corrupted him. He turned down the alley in which Jareth waited, as he knew the traitor would. He watched as his goblins extinguished what little light there was behind Mossryn as he passed. His pace quickened but so too did the goblins'. The chase was on.
Mossryn turned down several crooked avenues and alleys, knocking into barrels and trash bins, trying to escape the darkness but panic overrode sense turning the crowded village streets into a miniature labyrinth until he found himself trapped in a dead end.
"Who's there?" Mossryn cried out, a slight tremor undercutting the bravado in his voice. His eyes scanned the darkness.
Jareth resumed his Fae form and conjured a crystal, emitting a soft blue glow that set the red gleam of his goblin's eyes alight.
Mossryn dropped to his knees. "Your Majesty."
"So reverent. One would almost believe your sincerity if they did not already know of your treachery," Jareth drawled as the crystal rolled lazily over the back of his fingers.
"Tr-treachery, Your Majesty?" he stuttered.
Jareth heard Mossryn's heart race, saw the glint of sweat gathering on his brow. "Don't act so innocent. We both know you are not."
"Please, I beg you–"
The goblins encircled Mossryn. Jareth tossed the crystal at the pathetic Fae before his feeble attempts enraged him further. "To the dungeons. Don't kill him."
Hideous laughter drowned out the screams as the horde surrounding him disappeared from the dirty alley.
Jareth transformed once more and took flight. His diversion had not taken as long as he had hoped. He could join his prisoner in the dungeon but then it would be over all too quickly and his goblins deserved a treat as much as Mossryn deserved his punishment.
He flew over the Labyrinth spotting some of Sarah's larger gardens. Without realizing his path, he found himself on his own window ledge. He scanned the room. Her plates were gone. A clear sign that she had eaten. The chaise was empty and yet his breath still hitched as he saw her asleep in his bed. Her breathing was slow and even. Her chest rose and fell under his covers. A slight frown pulled at the corner of her lips. For some reason, it bothered him.
He gently pressed a fingertip to her forehead, granting her a deep dreamless sleep. The muscles in her face relaxed giving her a serene countenance. Disgusted with himself, he sat by the fire and watched the goblins in the dungeon through a crystal. At least they were able to act on their desires.
"You're looking good," Lisa remarked appraisingly.
Sarah washed her hands as Lisa reapplied her lipstick. Looking at her own reflection, Sarah recognized the truth staring back at her in the ladies' room mirror. Her eyes were brighter. Dark circles faded, barely needing any concealer this morning. Her cheeks were fuller. Probably due to the two-course meals she was eating nightly now.
She smiled to herself, another new development. It was amazing the change a few weeks of sleep could do. After she awoke this morning, it was as though a veil had been lifted and the world was in vivid color again.
"There! I knew it! A smile. Something is totally up with you." Lisa swatted at Sarah's shoulder.
"It's nothing. I've just been sleeping better." She grabbed a paper towel, drying her hands in turn.
Lisa's brows raised as she dug through her purse for her compact. "Mhmm. 'Sleeping' with who? Mr. Bad Boy?"
Sarah paused, her hand hovering over the trash can before dropping the paper towel wad in. She was not sleeping with him but she was sleeping in his bed…Jareth never even stayed. Just delivered her to his room, provided food, then left.
"No, but I have been seeing him. Mostly, I just think it's the new mattress," said Sarah.
Lisa wiggled her shoulders and teased, " His new mattress?"
"You are a bad influence," Sarah said with a laugh.
"Everyone needs a push in the wrong direction every now and then." She primped her hair one more time in the mirror.
"Speaking of wrong directions. We on for tonight?" Sarah asked.
"Oh, I can't. Sorry. I swear I'll make it up to you. But I got to go and meet Brock. You should call up Mr. Bad Boy and see if he wants to test the springs out in that new mattress." She winked and added, "See you Monday."
Sarah collected the rest of her things and started the trek to her car. Lisa hadn't made it to their Friday nights in weeks. All her free time was wrapped around Brock. While she was happy for her, she missed her too. And admittedly, she was a little jealous. She had no idea what to do when she wasn't trying to avoid sleep or conserve energy. For the first time in years, she was faced with a new dilemma. What to do with all her free time?
Jareth's arm came down, the strips of leather he wielded tearing to the prisoner stretched before him. The scars would last. A lesson not only for the guilty but a reminder for those who betrayed him. He could have stopped hours ago but it was satisfying to exorcise the frustration that threatened to drive him mad.
It was worth it, however, he reminded himself as the prisoner screamed with the next swing of the flogger. Sarah looked better in the few minutes he saw her every night. Her emotions were more stable and the anxiety that tied her in knots was loosening.
The long campaign was always the hardest. Instead of breaking her down with a siege, waiting for her to crumble under as he had been, he was allowing her to gain her strength and eventually, those walls would come down on their own before she realized it was too late.
He felt the pull of her arrival. It must be later than he thought. Dropping the flogger, he nodded to the dungeon master who picked it up and continued.
Jareth appeared in front of Sarah and offered his hand silently as he always did. She accepted without hesitation now. Her small hand in his, their bond intensifying. Her eyes closed and he could imagine it was to revel in the sensation rather than to brace for their brief travel to his quarters.
Sarah forced herself to step away from Jareth. Her body screamed for her to touch him again. She fought the instinct by gripping the back of the chair next to the small dining table. Although she forced their proximal separation, a deep unsettling loneliness pulled at her. She didn't want to be alone tonight. She was so tired of being alone but could she trust herself with him?
Her dinner appeared on the single place setting before her. He moved in her periphery about to make his sudden disappearance.
"Wait," she blurted out against her better judgment, regret instantly seized her.
Jareth turned back in time to watch the emotions play across her face as he felt them mix with his own. Doubt. Regret. Curiosity. What a shame it would be if they ever learned to shield their feelings from each other.
"Did you want something? You seem perplexed," he said observing her struggle. Some day she would admit and accept what she truly wanted.
"No-um, yes. I don't know." Why did she stop him? This was humiliating. Could she be any more awkward?
"You need only ask." He waited patiently, knowing the inner struggle she faced. She would give in. She always did.
"Do you have to leave? She asked, wincing at how pathetic her own words sounded. She shook her head. "You probably have important king stuff to do. Nevermind."
With feigned astonishment and a hand over his heart, he responded, "Why, Sarah, are you inviting me to dine with you? I thought you would never ask."
"You know what? Forget it." She turned away and pulled out her chair. Sitting, she stiffened as she saw he was already seated across from her, a feral grin stretching his lips as he swirled his glass of red wine. She couldn't take her eyes off those lips as they delicately closed around the edge of the glass. Her gaze traveled down, following the sloping line of his neck. A sheen of sweat glistened on his clavicles exposed by the open collar of his white shirt,
"Is that blood?" she asked as a smattering of red speckles came under her scrutiny.
Jareth glanced down. In his haste to get to her, he had not considered his state. "Why, yes. I believe it is."
With a wave of his hand, the stains disappeared. He was fresh and clean. No trace of sins to be seen.
"What happened?" she asked.
"'King stuff' that no longer requires my attention." He lifted the lids to their meals revealing wild boar roasted with juniper berries, artichokes with a mushroom and shallot sauce, and roasted potatoes. A simple fare. No twelve courses for such an intimate affair. He was quite famished. Justice certainly built an appetite. Torture was quite rigorous though not his favorite means of exertion. But it would suffice for the time being.
He laid his napkin across his lap and picked up his utensils. He took his time cutting the wild boar before taking a bite. Sarah had yet to touch her meal. Perhaps it was too soon to join her.
"So, you're not going to tell me what happened?" she asked with her arms crossed.
"No. Eat," he said calmly, pleased when she immediately picked up her knife and fork although it was done with a slight huff.
Sarah sat in the surreal moment that only stoked her curiosity. He was eating as though nothing about any of this was bizarre. She focused on her own food, assuming and hoping it was pork.
This was all such a bad idea. She felt awkward and unsure. The silence between them was torturous. Far worse than any first date she'd suffered through. No. Do not compare this to a date. This is not a date.
Their eyes met, amusement dancing in his as she realized he could probably surmise her thoughts through their connection. But her embarrassment was overshadowed as she was taken aback by the brilliance of blue peering back, one eclipsed by the dilated pupil. It gave him an ethereal gaze. She felt as though she could fall into those depths as easily as an angel could fall from grace.
Pulling herself away from that precipice and into the present, she asked, "Is that where you go when you leave? Kingly duties?"
Jareth thought he detected a hint of jealousy in her words but annoyance and curiosity fought in the foreground of her emotions like two goblins over the last dregs of ale. He would, of course, humor her if only to encourage more conversation.
"No. I leave my evenings to leisure most nights."
Sarah paused and took a sip of wine since water was not an option tonight. It felt velvety smooth going down but had a spicy peppery finish. She was eating his food, drinking his wine, infiltrating his private space, and stealing his bed every night keeping him from whatever leisure meant to someone like him.
She was sure she shouldn't keep talking, getting to him felt like a trap but she couldn't stop herself. "I feel guilty kicking you out of your room every night."
"Don't be ridiculous," he dismissed. He had her exactly where he wanted her.
"I could sleep somewhere else. Another room?" she offered.
The room joining his flashed in his mind. Her room. But it was far too soon for that if he were ever to allow it. And he was not ready to risk her being seen by others if she was housed in other wings. He had just managed to find the source of recent rumors. Having a human running through the castle would do nothing but reignite those embers he fought so hard to smother over the years.
"This room is never disturbed. For your safety and to avoid any unsavory gossip, this is the only option at present."
Sarah considered his answer. Although that made sense, there was a wavering current passing through their connection as if he was holding back. It was unsettling but it disappeared so quickly she was left doubting whether she ever felt it at all.
"Where do you sleep then?" she asked.
He swallowed his bite of potatoes and answered, "I don't require much sleep." It was true. The Fae were sustained by the magic that flowed through them. They slept and rested as needed but could go long stretches with minimal repercussions.
Sarah cut into the meat. It was delicious, tasting of pork but gamier. The berries lent a hint of pine and citrus. "Then what do you do?"
"Fly. Stalk the forests for prey," he said with apathy then continued, "Sometimes, I return to watch you sleep."
"What? Why?" She nearly dropped her fork. He watched her sleep? That was a frightening thought.
"Well, you are quite beautiful." He ignored her scoff and scowl. "But, in truth, my presence seems to help you sleep more soundly. I can feel it "
Though he felt none of that quiet calm between them now. Perhaps, he had divulged too much. A distraction was necessary before she overthought and overanalyzed her new nightly predicament.
"Where do you go the nights you fail to appear here?" he asked.
Fail to appear? When had she failed to appear? "Oh. Um–that only happens when I'm at my parent's home visiting them."
He nodded his head. "And young master Toby as well?"
Sarah's stomach lurched and her body went rigid at the casual mention of her brother's name.
"Calm yourself" He dabbed the corner of his mouth with his napkin. "I only ask because it would solve the mystery for me."
She didn't want him thinking of Toby at all. "And what mystery would that be?"
"It really should have occurred to me before." He waved away their empty plates and new ones appeared. Hazelnut and vanilla custard topped with cinnamon-poached pears. He leisurely took a bite, savoring the way the flavors mingled on his tongue. Her concern was replaced with vexation as he took his time with another bite.
With a sly grin, he said, "You really shouldn't make it so easy to rile you, my dear. Toby was fairly won back and so his home is protected from further magical interference. While you are there, magic cannot touch you."
Fear loosened its grip as she inwardly breathed a sigh of relief knowing Toby would always be safe but a pang of jealousy tainted that happiness. Would she ever find a similar safe haven?
"No need for jealousy, Sarah. The protection will fade when he comes of age. Just as yours did."
She did not appreciate his insight into her psyche at all. "What protection?" she asked. She had never had any protection.
"The Labyrinth shielded you from me," he added with a subtle grumble, "For years."
Sarah recalled her eighteenth birthday and the malevolent energy that entered the Labyrinth that night after her years of blissful ignorance. She could almost understand Jareth's anger now, being shut out of what was his but he had still hunted her down. Had he even considered talking to her? Explaining everything? Of course not. Even now, she couldn't trust his answers. They always seemed to be half-truths concealing information from her to maintain his superiority. With that, she was reminded that she should not be casually dining with him.
Their meal was finished. She felt full but unsettled. Her fingers fiddled with the napkin in her lap. Would he just leave now? He lingered across from her with no air of urgency, leaning back in his chair with his fist propping his chin in quiet contemplation.
"Well…I think I'll go to bed now. Thank you for dinner. Good night."
Jareth stood as Sarah pushed away from the table, aware that she was attempting to dismiss him. Much good would that do her. She may be the Champion but he was still King and he would leave when he chose, not because she wanted him to. Or at least believed she wanted him to.
Every moment she walked across the room to the far side of the bed felt clunky and clumsy, knowing his eyes were following her. Why was he still here? She pushed aside the heat blossoming in her cheeks. Mustering as much dignity as she could, she pulled back the decadent covers as though it was her own, crawled into the bed, and turned her back to Jareth.
He smiled at her endeavors to shut him out. Her determination was adorable. As if she could ever truly ignore him. He instinctively thumbed the scar on his palm. He had made sure she never could. But as always she preferred to pretend. He doused the lights for her but did not leave. He was never one to back down from a challenge.
Sarah squeezed her eyes shut, hoping he had left and wasn't just going to watch her sleep. His presence was not helping her relax. Seconds felt like hours but she refused to peak over her shoulder.
Her eyes flew open and her body froze as she felt the mattress dip behind her. No breath left her lungs. Unable to act, she felt the warmth of his body as he moved near her. His weight settling behind her.
In the darkness, a graveled whisper reached her ear. "Goodnight, Sarah."
Notes: Muwahahaha. But, seriously, thanks for reading! If you liked it let me know, I love to hear from y'all. Sidenote: Grammarly has gone full stupid and now underlines half my writing with premium-only suggestions and won't let me see most of my regular corrections without pushing upgrading on me. So, If anyone knows of a good free program for grammar and spelling please let me know. Thanks!