"We got our pair," Tojî announced solemnly, though the goblins around him were already giggling, dispelling what little formal atmosphere the evening had left. "I'm sure I don't gotta ask much… if you're both happy to be volunteerin'?"
Jareth grinned, laughing quietly as though the question was absurd.
"I am."
Tojî cocked his head to Sarah.
"Are you, Sar?"
The words were already waiting on her tongue, and even though they were softly spoken they seemed to carry through the whole room.
"I am."
Another uproar, goblets clinking together in celebration amongst riotous applause, and the heat in Sarah's cheeks threatened to match her dress in hue.
"One groom. One bride… " Tojî announced as he tied the loose end of the gold ribbon around Sarah's wrist in an elegant knot, linking her right hand to Jareth's left. "One night."
"Fey ter Deckenal!" called a goblin from the crowd and every guest picked up the call, raising their glasses high. "For the Decennial!"
Jareth linked his fingers through hers.
"For you," he whispered.
"May these hands be blessed," finished Tojî, cupping Jareth and Sarah's hands in his own, surreptitiously slipping a small box in the space between Jareth's fingers before stepping back with a sweeping bow.
Jareth smiled warmly at him, and then turned to the rabble, squeezing Sarah's hand in his own.
"Friends," he addressed the throng, all mostly leaning against one another due to alcohol or infatuation. "Family." He gestured towards the goblins and they crowed deafeningly back. "Finery," he added to Roswen and Liora and the rest of the fae court that was lining the back wall of the ballroom. They raised their glasses in acknowledgment. Liora's head lolled against Roswen's from behind her, her arms wrapped across her stomach.
Jareth flicked a hand to the doors. "Leave."
If the guests found any rudeness in his abrupt dismissal they didn't voice it, laughing and chattering amongst themselves as arms were wound around shoulders and hats were found and re-donned.
They all filed out of the ballroom with half stumbles and hollering, spilling into the corridors of the castle with every intention of continuing the festivities elsewhere.
A riot of giggles sounded from Roswen as she was swept into Liora's arms and lifted like the bride she was dressed as, and Sarah caught the kiss Roswen blew in her direction over Liora's shoulder. The last to leave was Tojî, closing the double doors behind him with a last wink.
And suddenly there was no air in the room as Jareth's mismatched gaze focused back on her, his unbound arm at her waist holding her tight, his pose oddly still. In an attempt to break the suffocating tension of the moment, Sarah tilted her head towards him, moving to kiss him. His untethered hand stopped her, bare fingers on her lips.
"Sit with me, Sarah," he said, folding a sheath of her hair back over her shoulder with trailing fingers. "Talk with me first."
She blinked out of her daze but followed him to a chaise lounge still strewn with confetti and glitter. He lowered himself into it and pulled her down with him, her legs over his lap, their bound hands resting on her thighs. Sarah sank against him, heart still pounding as his thumb rubbed soothingly across her knuckles.
He turned his head towards her, smiling warmly, (and a little smugly as she tried to stop herself from preening into his touch as his fingers carded affectionately through her hair), a pregnant pause stretching between them before he broke it.
"Is this really what you want?" he asked quietly.
Sarah smirked, raising an eyebrow at him.
"Isn't it a bit late to ask me that?" she quipped back.
He smiled, but only enough to take the somber sheen off his words.
"It's never too late to turn back, precious," he added, squeezing the hand tied wrist to wrist with his.
The confident smile faltered on Sarah's face as she drew her lip in between her teeth. Weighing up the words he was saying. The sacrifices he might be making by saying them.
'To renew the magic' is what he'd claimed this was all in aid of. The lifeblood of his world. The beating heart of the Underground.
Surely to pull back now would have consequences.
"What would happen?" she asked. "If we stopped now?"
Jareth sucked his teeth as though he was calculating the outcome in his head.
"Chaos," he stated bluntly. And grinned when her brow raised in apprehension. "But that's par for the course here, don't let it sway you."
Sarah pursed her lips, studying him for a second. The ribbon around her wrist felt like fingers tightly gripping, and she shivered from the thoughts that feeling conjured.
"Don't cut me loose," she answered.
He had an exceptional poker face, but she could see the shine of relief melting with anticipation in his eyes.
"One last thing then. Or rather two wrapped up in one."
He turned over the box he'd been keeping tucked in between their palms. It opened like a matchbox to reveal two pressed flowers with translucent lilac petals. With delicate fingers, he extracted one and held it up to her.
"Open your mouth."
"Explain first," countered Sarah with an unimpressed stare. It wasn't a peach but she wasn't about to be tipped into another reality without warning again.
He grinned, apparently pleased by her suspicious nature.
"Something to keep us awake, sweetheart. One groom, one bridge… one night," he repeated, twisting the flower by its stem. "No sleep for the wicked," he clarified. "Until daybreak, that is."
Sarah's heart thumped at the implication of his words. Nothing was ever what it seemed in this place, and it seemed she was practically designed to underestimate it.
A whole night wrapped around each other. Every lewd image of Jareth and Roswen that she hadn't been able to stop herself visualizing suddenly morphed, changed into herself with his body entwined with her own… his mouth over hers, hands in her hair, down her back, touching every inch of her…
She took a breath.
"And the second thing?" she asked, eyeing the flower's delicate petals.
Jareth cleared his throat.
"A practicality," he said, twirling the stem in his fingers. "I think if you were to give me an heir it ought to be on another night, after a different ceremony..."
Sarah raised an incredulous eyebrow.
"And maybe a bit more conversation," he added with a wink.
"Agreed," murmured Sarah, head still swimming, but she opened her mouth as he lifted the flower up. He placed it on her tongue and it dissolved in her mouth, leaving a lingering syrupy flavor of sugar behind. He did the same, and let the box slip from his grasp, free to take her hand once more.
She jolted when the backs of his fingers ever so slightly brushed along her bare thigh, unaware the slit in her skirt had fallen open across her legs.
"Start us, Sarah," he whispered, shifting so his position was more open to her, almost leaning side by side on the wide loveseat. "When you're ready."
Time seemed to slow, seconds ticking with molasses slowness as she raised her eyes to his, capturing the yearning writ in them and committing it to memory.
When you're ready…
She held her breath. Will I ever really be ready?
She leaned in, close enough to feel his breath on her skin, her cheek grazing his as he followed her movements. He angled his head as though to chase her mouth and urge her on, but he kept his lips shut until she pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. His lips parted slightly. Eyes falling to heavy lidded drowsiness, fingers linked between hers, firm but motionless like she could be easily startled out of the moment.
She kissed him and he chased it hungrily as she broke away again, bestowing another kiss, but just as brief.
The third she didn't pull back from and the sigh he moaned into her mouth warmed her heart and spread all the way down to her gut as she sank beneath him.
