Content warning: this chapter contains r*pe/sexual assault against a man by a woman. Please proceed with caution and skip this chapter if it could be troublesome. Your health is the most important. I will summarize any important non-triggering bits in the forward of Chapter 22.

Chapter Twenty-One

Aldric

Faerie. Between Day 2 and Day 3.

Aldric closed the door on Sarah's rooms and strode to his own, just down the hall. He did not make eye contact with the servants he passed, and they could tell at a glance that he was not in the mood for conversation, fleeting or no.

The image of her was burned into his mind.

What were you thinking? He snarled to himself as he grasped the silver handle to his parlor, careful not to slam the door behind him as he wished. The tenuous grasp he had on his control was slipping.

If she were anyone else...

But she wasn't, was she?

Aldric crossed the room, ignoring the grand furnishings to open the door to the smaller of his offices—his private one. Unlike the one where he took company, this one was strewn with papers and books, maps, and hand-written notes. He pulled off his gloves and smoothed his fingers over the dry parchment of the book he had been reading before—

Her eyes. Brimming with tears and burning with fury. A goddess, resplendent, even stripped bare before him, she had looked as though she would tear him apart.

Sarah Williams. The slip of a girl who conquered a sentient structure older than mountains. A face that haunted his dreams now, and such cruel eyes. If he did not know better, he would say she was a sorceress. An enchantress.

Paper tore, and he realized he was gripping the book tight, and he immediately released it, ironing out the rumpled, damaged page. His gaze flashed over the words as they smoothed beneath his fingertips.

The fae touched are beguiling to all creatures of Faerie, but especially to those with whom their magic is a particular match. Each of the touched contains a piece of our homeland, a piece of the wild magic that makes and shapes worlds. To those who resonate with the touched, the power they can wield is enough to spawn new worlds or destroy old ones.

Aldric resonated with Sarah. He knew he did. As did his brother.

Jareth, he thought with a baring of teeth. Why should he be handed everything?

For what had he done, truly, to deserve any of this?

Aldric took his hand away from the book and looked toward the door to the parlor, then back at his paper-strewn desk. One of his many gifts was in art, and Sarah's visage stared back at him from a half-dozen visible sheets of parchment.

His body ached, remembering the vision she had brought upon them both. The sense of her slick and gripping him tight.

Groaning, Aldric took himself in hand, leaning with one hand against his desk until he stroked himself to completion. Imagining, as he stared unseeing at her portrait, the moment in the far sight where she had said yes, and then—

He came gasping, the ghostly feel of her lips against his, the taste of her still there, still within reach...

Swearing, Aldric closed his eyes for a long moment before he magicked himself clean, tucking away a cock still throbbing and twitching, wanting not the hand, but her, always her.

"You're better than this," he said aloud to the empty space. "You're losing your head over a mortal woman."

Not just any mortal woman, whispered his mind. Her power alone could mean our freedom, at last...

"Gods damn it all," he scowled. Of all the women who had carelessly thrown themselves at him over the years, he would take back every one of them for one moment of completion with Sarah. He could still feel her warm, incredibly soft skin against his fingers.

She said yes.

In the far sight, she had consented. Acquiesced at long last.

It meant that she longed to do so. That a part of her wanted him just as much as he wanted her. And Aldric knew his history. He knew excellent matches had been formed with much less.

And I love her.

That would have been enough for so many, but not for Sarah.

He wanted to rage, to break something, but forced himself to be calm. A prudent decision it became obvious a moment later when a throat cleared behind him.

It was a polite little sound and came from near the floor.

Aldric turned to find a sprite looking up at him, golden robes glittering in the low light from the tall windows. "Her majesty would like a word," the sprite said, the sound of its voice like the tinkling of bells. Before Aldric had a chance to react, the sprite vanished with a pop and a shower of glitter.

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Aldric waved a hand at the mess of his office and watched as papers and books flew through the air and neatly arranged themselves in tidy piles. All his drawings of Sarah securely tucked away. He smoothed a hand over his vest and summoned a tray of tea to sit beside a comfortable leather armchair.

He folded his arms and waited.

He did not wait long.

The light from the windows, the very sun of Faerie, dimmed for a moment, and when the beams of sunlight came streaming back, there was High Queen Aurora.

No one who looked at the High Queen could mistake her for anything but royalty. She had been born into the position, had been raised for it, and every movement of her graceful, dark limbs confirmed this. She was taller than Aldric, with a long neck and severe but gorgeously sharp features, full lips and a brilliant white smile.

She focused that smile on him, and from years of study and scraping and bowing, he knew he was in for something. What, he was not sure, but it was bound to be unpleasant.

"Aldric," Aurora purred in a voice like warmed caramel. "I had hoped to find you alone. Excellent."

"Your majesty," Aldric unfolded his arms and then bowed, low enough to be respectful but not so low as many others would go. One day you might even bow to me. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"I will get straight to the point, shall I? Have you claimed the mortal, Sarah Williams? The fae-touched girl that you and your brother are so obsessed with?" Her upswept brows arched, and she gave an elegant little smirk.

He bristled. Aurora was a century his junior, and he had watched her rise to power. Watched her haughty arrogance take hold, and then the wisdom of whatever passed between the High Queens and their progeny eventually settle over her shoulders. But sometimes, like now, she looked just like the wisp of a girl he had seen playing in the water gardens beneath the lumen trees. Precocious, impish, and all-too-willing to screech for the guards if she did not get her every whim granted. Sometimes she would turn her torments not on her peers but on the other fae of the Seelie court, even those millennia older than she. Fae who had been worshiped as gods, reduced to parading around like forest animals for a young royals amusement.

"Well?" she asked. "Have you lain with the woman? Has she given herself to you?"

Aldric gave a single shake of his head and realized his palms were throbbing. Hands balled into fists, his fingernails were biting into his flesh. He relaxed and pulled on a pair of gloves he summoned from the drawer in his bedchamber.

That little smirk was back. "Afraid of what might happen if we touch—again?"

Aldric did not look her in the eye but finished yanking the supple leather over his fingers. "I have not claimed her, no," he said, avoiding her last question. "But it is only a matter of time."

High Queen Aurora gave a laugh that at once was tinkling and stirring, and his hands clenched into fists again. He turned away from her, pacing behind his desk where he began sifting through papers, pretending to look for something.

"Is there anything else?" he asked.

"You will release the mortal from whatever arrangement you have," the High Queen intoned. "All arrangements, Lord Aldric. Even the first, which brought her to you to begin with."

He went still.

Impossible.

Staring back at her, Aldric said in a low, dangerous voice, "What does he have over you?"

Her eyes flashed fire within their coal-black depths. "Nothing. I am not a fool, Lord Aldric, which you would do well to remember." Her smile was cutting, and there was a relish in her tone as she spoke her new few words. "He used your family boon."

Aldric was shouting before he could stop himself. "That was a legacy! For two thousand—"

"Be still," High Queen Aurora raised a slender hand, and magic poured from her like a font, a torrent. Aldric staggered back, falling with a grunt into his leather chair as the pressure hammered him, keeping him from rising. "How dare you speak to me in such a manner? Do you think that what passed between us entitles you to this impertinence?"

Aldric bared his teeth, but he could not spit out the words that burned on his tongue. He wanted to scream. You think I wanted that?

He could still remember the birds. The riotous explosion of color as thousands of silver, cerulean, and ebony wings took to the sky. How magical it had all seemed, until hands wrapped around him from behind, and then she was whispering in his ear. "I've always wanted you."

Aldric had known. Of course he had. He was a century her senior, and while the match would have been a powerful one for his house, he had never shared a returned interest in the Queen-to-be.

And when he had told her so, as straightforward and gentle as he could, what had she done?

Pulled on the power of Faerie. Pulled rank.

He fought at first, and she laughed. Laughed as, with an ease like twirling her pinky, she commanded his body to the ground, to respond to her touch. "Did you think I was asking?" And then she—

The pressure against him now was the same, and he fought against the onslaught of memories and the feeling of helplessness.

No, he thought. She won't do this to me again. I won't allow it!

The sigil around his neck in its sickle shape hummed, and gritting his teeth, he pushed back against that monumental pressure. Sliced through it and straight at the monarch, heedless of what this meant, of how it could be interpreted if—

She batted away his attack with the flick of a wrist, laughing as she advanced toward him. There was a seductive sway to her hips now, and she licked her lips as she looked at him, hunger in her dark eyes. "You will release Sarah Williams, won't you, dear?" she purred.

Aldric opened his mouth to tell her to go to hell when her hand reached out and petted his chest. Bile rose in his throat and he bit back the urge to gag.

"You know, seeing your brother reminded me so much of you," she whispered, leaning down so her face was close to his.

When he inhaled, he was right back in that field, under a sky shifting with the light streaming through a thousand, thousand pairs of wings.

She smelled of summer and warm sugar.

It made him feel sick.

When she cupped him, he was stiff beneath fingers laden with jeweled rings. Aurora made a pleased sound. "Not immune, Lord Aldric?"

That laugh again, the one just like that day.

You think you can say no to me? She had said. I rule you.

His heart was pounding, and the device at his neck—the one that was an exact pair to his brother—thrummed. Aurora straddled his waist, fingers making quick work to spread open his vest and shirt, fingernails skimming along the skin of his chest. Her expression was hungry, her red tongue darting out to lick her lips before she leaned forward and murmured. "I think I want another taste."

Her magic—the very power of Faerie that was granted only to the rulers of the Seelie court—pinned him down. This was not what such powers were for.

Let it damn you, he thought. I call on all the gods who ever were or ever shall be to strike you down for using the sacred bond of Faerie in such a way.

But if there were gods, they were not listening.

He wished the breath would freeze in his lungs. That he could escape the body which, against all his wishes, responded to her every lingering touch. He tried not to feel. Not to see, but the magic she used against him kept him in place. His body, his mind, and the pleasures of his body. She manipulated it as skillfully as a puppeteer. And when Aurora let out a low, shuddering moan as she rode him to completion, he wished for all the worlds that he could slide a blade ever-so-slowly up through her chin and into her skull. He imagined the twist he would give, and the dull look in her eyes as the light would fade from them.

When she had finished taking her pleasure from him, she stood again, rearranging her skirts and smoothing down the fabric of her bodice. Aside from a faint, dark flush to her cheeks, no one would be the wiser by looking at her.

Aldric, on the other hand, was half-collapsed in his chair, his cock glistening in the lowering light from the windows.

"You will release the girl," the High Queen said yet again. "As for your insolence..." a slow smile spread across her features. The magic did not let up. Had not for even a moment, though the force of it was greater than anything he had ever wielded himself. "I am not unreasonable. Consider this your last warning, however." She ran a hand through his hair, leaning over him in order to do so. Her eyes searched his. "I don't want to lose access to you. Not yet. Don't make me kill you."

Aldric watched with a burning rage as the High Queen turned from him and, between one step and the next, disappeared from his chambers.

The magic let him go.

Aldric slid to the floor, collapsing onto his knees. His body screamed out a dozen small hurts from being locked for so long in such a position.

He closed his eyes. Willed his body into the bath, willed the water to near boiling and, clothes and all, submerged himself utterly before he screamed.

He clawed at his hair, his scalp, pulling and causing bright pain to flash through him. He did not care. Not even as blood tinged the waters and his lungs cried out for oxygen. Not as his head swam and his eyes grew heavy. He almost welcomed it.

Let it end...

What was the point, when the power to escape such things was soon to be forever ripped from him?

Aldric broke the surface of the water with a gasp, then choked, drawing in one shuddering breath after another as he coughed through the fire in his chest. His torn clothes were plastered to his skin and with a minor push of power he tore them the rest of the way off, suspending them in midair where they twisted into a ball and then combusted, leaving nothing but a pile of white ash.

I really liked that vest, too.

He laughed, and once he started he could not stop. He laughed as he scrubbed every inch of his body until it was pink. His laughter filled the marble and cedarwood washroom, and the echoes that reached his ears sounded desperate. He rose out of the tub and clothed himself in dark, all dark, encasing him from heel to throat.

Lifting his face, he winced when he saw his reflection in the mirror.

I look like a madman.

The pendant stood out in stark relief against the black of his shirt and jacket, and Aldric touched it with leather gloves, a thought stirring.

One last time. I must try...

Anything. Anything would be better than what he would continue to endure if he remained so powerless. With Sarah, the power of creation itself would be at his beck and call. He knew it would. They could create a whole new world, separate from Above and Underground. Apart from Faerie. Somewhere where, if Aurora were to step foot there, Aldric would slice her to ribbons. She and anyone that posed a threat to him, to Sarah, to anyone he loved.

And then he remembered her words. If you loved me, you never would have done this to me.

He dragged a hand across his face, then took a few steadying breaths. When next he looked into the mirror, his reflection showed a calm he did not feel.

Aldric paused with his hand on the handle of the outer corridor. He could sense the beat of life on the other side and knew what he would find.

"Maisy," he said, swinging the door open. "What is it?"

The brownie did not waste breath asking how he knew she was there. "It's the Lady Sarah, my lord. She's inquiring as to your whereabouts." There was a slight pause. "Everyone is inquiring as to your whereabouts."

Aldric swallowed, his throat clicking. There was precious little time. If only I had the Labyrinth at my disposal already. "Please pass along my apologies to my guests, and be sure to open some of the good casks, near the back."

Maisy's eyebrows rose. "The very back, my lord?"

He hesitated, then waved a hand. "Just keep the wine flowing. I will be with them as soon as I can."

Before the brownie could ask any more questions, Aldric pushed past her and moved toward Sarah's rooms. He knocked twice before opening the door, closing it behind him before he looked up.

The sight of her took his breath away.

Sarah rose from the chair, a book clasped in her hands, knuckles white from gripping the leather cover. Her hair was piled high atop her head, ribbons of curls falling down to grace her bare shoulders. A corset encased her breasts and torso, embroidered with golden thread that sparkled in the low light and danced with a subtle, intricate pattern. Long gloves covered her to her elbows. Jewels twinkled and glittered at her throat, brow, and wrists. Emeralds and deep jade, diamonds and silver filagree. Everything was polished to catch and keep attention, yet it was not the long skirts of moss-green silk, overlain with a fine net of golden knotwork, or the jewels, or any other part of her that held his attention as much as her eyes.

They blazed.

All his hasty plans, carefully calculated though they were, flew out of his mind. Sarah set down her book and started toward him. He staggered forward, catching her hands before he landed on his knees before her. "What—" she started.

"Stay with me," he begged, unable to look at her, only clutch her, his mind and body screaming that this might be it. The last time I touch her. "Please, Sarah. Tell me what you want, and it is yours. Tell me what to do, and I will do it. No hesitation, no argument. I only want you." His voice was hoarse, and he said the last in a whisper, "Please."

"Why," she stammered. "Why are you acting like this? Aldric?" She squeezed his hands, pulling one out of his grip with a determined yank, but then she was touching his cheek. "Look at me."

He could not. She would see it in his eyes. His shame, his pain. She has bewitched me, he thought for the hundredth time. He pressed his forehead against her stomach and felt the disgraceful burn of tears when her hand went to the back of his head.

Sarah trembled, and said in a whisper, "I can't. I can't stay with you, just like I can't stay with Jareth. I have a life in New York."

Aldric scoffed and his mind shifted, thankful for the distraction. "Do you think Faerie will let you go so easy? Sarah," he nearly moaned the name, blinking back the sting of further tears. "You don't understand. I had never thought that I would find someone like you, and yet I have. You are a miracle. I am sorry, so sorry, for using your friends the way I have. I—I do not know how else to be, but to be fae. But I could be better. With your help, Sarah, I could be so much more. I know you know this to be true. Stay with me. Be mine, and you can have everything you want."

She jerked her hand away as though he had scalded her, and made to move back, but he held her by the hand and now gripped her waist.

"No!" he cried. "Please. Please, Sarah."

And then he looked up.

Looked up and met her eyes, and was lost. Lost because she saw—of course she did—and immediately her features flooded with concern, with worry—

But not a trace of love or affection.

No, he thought, panicking as he remained kneeling, frozen in her gaze. No, please, all the gods...

"What's going on?" Sarah asked, the words a whisper. "Who hurt you?"

Aldric tore his gaze away, clutching at the fabric over his chest. His heart gave a lurch, and he gasped, clambering back to his feet as Sarah looked on. His head spun, and he turned away, turned his back on her even though every molecule was screaming not to let her out of his sight. He could not lose her. He could not.

"Aldric?"

You will release the girl.

He heard the words as though whispered straight into his ear, and he bit back a moan, clutching at the sides of his head. "Come with me," he said, and turned on his heel.

His head was swimming, buzzing, yet his other senses remained sharp, scanning the corridor for threats. Always assessing, always checking.

He could hear the rustle of her skirts as she followed him, and he swallowed the hard lump forming in his throat.

Miraculously, they did not pass anyone on their way to the ballroom. Aldric hesitated for a moment, his hand on the door handle, before he let out a deep breath and pushed into the room, Sarah on his heels.

The space felt strangely intimate, large as it was, and filled with the light of stars and moon gleaming against the highly polished oak floors. Portraits of Aldric's ancestors stared down at them, and he avoided their gaze like he avoided hers.

Until they stood before the mirror.

"What is this?" she whispered.

"I have been ordered to release you," Aldric said, the words low. He chanced a look at her and saw the raw longing on her expression as she stared at the mirror before she hid it. "You need not return."

Sarah sucked in a breath. "Even for the five hours a day?"

His hands in fists, Aldric gave a slight nod. Now that his gaze was on her, he could not take it off. This is it. "Sarah, I am sorry." He took a deep breath. "I'm sorry for using your friends. For tricking you into staying here. I should have—it would have been better to have tried a different tack, I think."

"You think?" Sarah scoffed. "You still see me as a possession. I know you do."

"No," he argued, voice so soft that Sarah took a step forward, brow furrowed. "No longer. You are a treasure, pet, but you are—a marvel. A wonder. I am sorry I did not see sooner. I regret much." He wanted to keep talking, to delay this as much as possible, but her gaze kept wandering to the surface of the mirror, which now shimmered and whispered with magic. Desperate, he reached for her again, hands coming to rest on her shoulders.

Sarah looked up at him, green eyes shining in the low light. "I cannot stay with you," she said.

His grip tightened. "Try to imagine it, Sarah. You would be an empress—a goddess. Everything you ever desire, every whim, would be fulfilled in an instant. Just look. Look what I'm offering you."

Her smile was sad, and she reached up, clasping his wrists, her hands small and fingers slender. "You're not the first to offer me such things."

"Let me be the last. Please, Sarah. With you at my side, we could both be free. Utterly free. No one could make us do anything." Her brow furrowed as he stepped closer, inhaling the sweet scent of her. "Together, we could rule worlds."

Her lips parted, and he lifted one hand so that he could trace her bottom lip ever-so-gently. There, deep within her eyes, was the thread of desire he sought. "Why would I want to rule a world?" she asked, her voice breathy.

"Then let me rule, and you can be free. Free to do whatever you wish, however often you choose. Imagine the possibilities, Sarah. The library's worth of knowledge you could study. I see your hunger for information, for knowledge, and your desire to do much. You're not satisfied, are you? Neither am I, pet. Not yet. But with you, everything we could ever want would be within reach. My magic speaks to yours. I know it does." He let some of it uncoil now, skimming his palm down the column of her throat before resting it against her chest, just over her breasts. "Tell me I lie."

"You don't," she said, voice still hushed. "But I can't. Don't you see I can't?"

His mind was a mess, a muddled scramble of the last several hours, and years, and centuries. All of it pressing and jabbing and then words were tumbling from his lips, "I love you. Give me one last kiss. I will let you go, but let me kiss you one last time, please."

Sarah stepped forward. She wrapped her arms around his neck and when his lips descended, hers were there to meet them.

It was a shock, a delicious, racing, trembling pain from his lips to his groin, and he groaned, grasping her face, tilting it up so that he could have better access.

And then her tongue was sweeping along his, tasting just as much as he tasted, and the sweet, small noises that fell from her throat were—

Sarah pulled back with a shuddering breath, her hands trembling as she smoothed them down her corset, looking away as her cheeks blazed red.

Aldric moved as though in a dream, reaching up to the talisman at his neck and yanking, breaking the chain that had kept it around his neck for over three hundred years. Sarah made a startled sound, a hand to her throat as the device glowed. Soon she was shielding her sensitive eyes, looking away as the amulet shifted form in his hand, the glow receding and spots dancing before his vision before he pressed a small, palm-sized book into her hands.

"This is for you alone," he whispered, not able to help but hold her close, his face pressed into the mounds of hair atop her head. She smelled heavenly. "When you're ready, place your hand on the cover and speak my name. It will unlock for you then."

"What is it?" she asked, her voice trembling.

He kissed the top of her head and, in an act more difficult than any he had committed in the past, he stepped away from her and motioned to the mirror. "Ask Jareth. He should tell you this secret, at least." He paused. "I love you."

She closed her eyes, and he saw tears glimmering like trails of starlight down her cheeks.

The moment she turned from him, the fractions of a second that she spent gathering up her skirts before stepping through the mirror, stretched infinitely.

All the while, all he could thing was, look back. Glance back at me, and I'll take you away, damn the consequences.

Look back.

Look back.

Just look back...

But then she was gone, the mirror's surface closing with a faint ripple behind her disappearing form.

The ballroom was silent.

Empty.

Some

part of him

splintered

and...

shattered.

Author's Note:

…

So, there's a Sarah's Scribbles comic where she talks about the two types of authors. Either you're the type that takes your reader on a fun, magical journey… or, you're the type that want to break the reader.

Guess which one I am?

This was a difficult chapter to write. Even though Aldric is a bad guy, he's my bad guy.

Next chapter, enter the Goblin King. It's been a while…

Ta for now and please leave a contribution in the little box.

xoxo,

CrimsonSympathy