“I’m sure he’s figured that into the visit.” She tried to be reassuring, but in truth, the king had most probably not considered scheduling a visit with the dwarf. Arulan made a note to discuss just that with the king once Sarah was settled.
“He doesn’t like Hoggle very much I’m afraid.”
“The king does not always match his actions to his feelings.” Arulan began backing out as Sarah settled into the rocking chair for her meal. “You’re coming down for dinner this evening, yes?” Shrugging, Sarah thought about it briefly. She was still more than a little effected by the frequency with which Maeve’s name had come up while they were visiting with Ranofyr. “I hope you will. Dinner is so much nicer with another woman around.” Smiling lovingly she ducked out of the room. When she reached the dining room she found Jareth at the table. “Your majesty, I was curious. You’re taking the mortal to the Southeast tomorrow, correct?”
“She’s not coming down for lunch?”
“No, but she’ll be down for dinner.”
“Humphf ”
“Your majesty, tomorrow, you are going to the Southeast, correct?” He shook his head. “And you have scheduled some time for Sarah to spend with Hoggle haven’t you?”
“Why would I do that? Besides, it’s not up to me to do the scheduling. We’re at the mercy of what Tiberon wants for his sector.” Tiberon, the name echoed in his head. An idea farming there that he couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of earlier. “Arulan, you’re right. Seeing Hedge Hog and his wife would be very important to Sarah. I am still king at the heart of the matter and Tiberon only has so much to say about our visit. I’ll head to the gates after lunch and see if the dwarf will agree to allow us to stay at his home while we’re in the sector.”
Arulan smiled, pleased the king had come to this conclusion. Coyly she asked, “What and not stay at the castle?”
“No. Castles don’t mean much to Sarah. It would mean far more for her to have the time to spend with Hobble and his family.” The king inhaled the rest of his lunch while carrying on polite conversation with the elf. She mentioned Maeve’s name and their talk took a turn for the worse. “I won’t have her talked about as though she were some sort of phenomenon. Ranofyr already did plenty of talking about her in front of Sarah yesterday and the girl was on edge before we even left for his sand castle in the middle of hell.”
“I’m sure it wasn’t that bad,” she said sipping some tea.
Jareth’s gloved hands slammed down on the table. “He’s domesticated the Fachan, disabled the lighthouse and sent Sarah off to play volleyball with a clan of Selkie.”
Arulan choked on her tea, “You’re kid...” Never mind, the king doesn’t kid. “What did you do to put a stop to it?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing?” This surprised her.
“Sarah convinced me that it was better to give the dregs a place to call their own as it might cause less havoc than forcing them to look for other places to cause trouble.”
Her eyebrows rose as she dove back into her teacup, “Wise girl isn’t she?”
“I’m going to the gates to speak to the twerp.”
“Dwarf.”
“You say it your way, I say it mine.” That said he was gone, vanished into thin air.
***** **** * *****
Sarah decided she would come down to dinner after all. When she arrived at the table, only Arulan and Dalkeil were seated. “Where’s the king?” she asked the elf softly.
“I’m not sure,” she replied, hoping her knowing eyes would not deceive her. As he’d said at lunch he was off to see Hoggle to make the arrangements necessary for their stay.
Dalkeil chimed in, “Deverell will be with us as soon as he’s cleaned up. As part of his training I had him work with Gribbin hopping it would put some muscle on the boy.”
“Can anyone account for Turgomon while we’re at it?” Arulan asked. No one replied.
One of the other elves came from the kitchen with a tray of salads in her arms. “The king said not to wait for him,” she announced, placing a salad at each setting.
Deverell and Turgomon stumbled in together as the main course was served. When the men were asking for seconds, Jareth took his seat at the head of the table. He was served his plate and dove in readily. “Sarah,” he said at some length, “I wanted to ask you something about our trip tomorrow.” She looked at him, suddenly interested in the conversation at the table for the first time.
“What was that?”
“I talked to that little dwarf you’re friendly with and he said it would be alright if we stayed with him while we were in the Southeast sector.” With pride that he had managed to avoid Tiberon’s castle, Jareth smiled broadly.
Had they not been sitting at the table with all the other members of the household, she’d have jumped up, thrown her arms around his neck and thanked him, instead she just said, “That’d be nice,” from between lips that were parted in a wide grin. She couldn’t wait until they left. Arulan used her napkin to cover the smile she seemed unable to avoid.
***** ***** *****
Once in high school Sarah had experienced this kind of random insomnia, the night before some production, maybe it was sophomore year when they did Guys and Dolls, no, junior year when they did Pajama Game. Her father and Karen sent her to bed early, they wanted her to be fresh and ready for opening night the next day. She milled about her room trying to keep her mind off the show, but it was no use. Before she knew it she’d read four hundred pages of Les Miserables. Oddly enough now, when she remembered that, it seemed to be a premonition of things to come. Regardless, it had been the first night she’d watched the sun come up. At seventeen, it didn’t really have much mystery, nothing near as amazing as it was watching the sun come up over the Underground.
While she could easily recall these obscure moments from her past, she couldn’t possible place her finger on the source of the butterflies in her stomach. Was it getting to see Hoggle again or having to see Tiberon after what had transpired between them at the ball? But what really transpired between them that night? A few harmless flirtations, a dance or two, a shower of compliments, a simple violet. Nothing of any real significance, not that she could see. Trying to put a name to it made her drowsy. Sarah jumped when Jareth knocked on their adjoining door. “Ah, come in,” she called wiping the sleep from her eyes.
“Are you nearly ready?”
“Ready? I didn’t think we would leave until after breakfast.”
“We’re having breakfast with your friends. Drema’s rather looking forward to it,” the Goblin King started to leave, “but if you don’t want to, I can go and tell them your not intere...”
Sarah jumped up out of her bed, the cold floor stinging her bare feet, but she couldn’t have cared. Throwing open the wardrobe she cried, “No, no, don’t do that. I’ll be ready in fifteen minutes.”
“I’ll expect you down stairs in twelve.” He disappeared, probably gone to wait downstairs.
She chose a floral shift from the rack, one that had a beige background and small blue and yellow flowers on it. She spent a few minutes looking for her shoes while she brushed her hair free of knots. When they refused to appear before her eyes, she wished them there. Magic had a way of making things work out. Stepping into the flimsy leather soles held to her feet by a few straps and beads, Sarah’s fingers worked fast to plait her locks into a loose French braid. Like an anxious child on their first day of school she came bounding down the stairs eager to burst through the door and explore the new world waiting for her.
Jareth looked up when she hit the landing. It occurred to him that her face was free of her sometimes wild mane and available for full viewing. He usually loved to watch the ebony strands framing her olive skin, but pulled back she took on a whole new look, one that was innocent, demure, classic. “You’re early,” he noted one elegant eyebrow arched.
“Really,” she smiled. “I hadn’t noticed.” It was her attempted at being playful. She had seen that side of Jareth coming out when they were in the Northeast alone on the beach. It was the first time since they were traveling back from the mountains. She liked it. She missed it. “No big send off? Where are Deverell and Turgomon?”
“Still asleep I imagine.”
“Arulan?”
“Gone for her morning walk.”
“Oh.”
“Am I not a large enough welcoming committee for you?”
“You’ll do,” she winked at him. Sarah accepted his extended elbow and prepared for the warm tingling sensation she at least knew to expect now. In an instant they were both standing in Hoggle’s kitchen, shrunk to size as was necessary when visiting them. Seeing Jareth near Hoggle’s size amused her, even if it took a minute’s getting used to. “Hog...”
Before she could even finish the second syllable of his name she was pounced upon by her namesake, “Sarahhhhhhhh Twoooooooo ” the wee one cried as her small feet pounded over the earthen floor, buckling her knees and launching herself into the mortals waiting arms. Sarah swung her around covering her tiny face with kisses. The king only looked on, part feeling misplaced among this touching family moment, part jealous that he had never received such a welcome from anyone in all his days. “Sarah, I thought I might never see you again.”
“Don’t be silly, I told you I’d be back.”
The child’s eyes grew serious, her little brows furrowing in a tight knit. “I not sil...ly.” She spoke the adjective with painstaking slowness, her pronunciation fastidious.
“When did you learn your l’s?”
Blushing, she shrugged, not positive exactly when it happened. Sarah One, no longer focused on the return of the other Sarah, took notice of the Goblin King. She scuttled down the length of the mortal, clinging to her leg, hiding her round, pink cheeks behind Sarah’s skirt. “Sarah Two, is that the king?
Fighting back the urge to laugh, she smiled broadly. “Yes, honey, that’s Jareth the Goblin King.” The tiny girl quaked. Drema and Hoggle looked on, not sure Jareth would want to be bothered with a dwarf child. “What are you waiting for?” Sarah asked him. “Bend down to her level and talk to her like you would anyone else, well not like you would anyone, but just talk to her. You’ve had how many children in this kingdom, you must have learned something about how to communicate with them.”
Drema was about to step forward and remove her daughter from the situation. Hoggle put up his hand to stop her. The king stooped down resting his elbows on his knees. “Lady Sarah, it is my pleasure to make your acquaintance.” His huge gloved hand with the long leather encased fingers extended towards her. With an expected amount of hesitation she looked at it, just looked. Panned her head from his hand to Sarah Two’s watchful eyes in search of guidance.
“Go on,” the mortal told her, give him your hand.
Sarah One reached out her tiny fingers, still holding the mortal’s leg for safety. Curling over Jareth’s first two fingers, the king lifted the tiny hand to his lips and softly brushed them against the back of her hand His golden locks fell forward and swept over her skin. She giggled like crazy, leaving her hiding spot to run over to her mother squealing as she went, “He tickles mommy, the Goblin King tickles.”
Charmed by the exchange, Sarah Two smiled coyly and looked away. Hoggle watched from his wife’s side, mouth hanging open, stunned at what he had witnessed. “That’s PR if I’ve ever heard it.” Jareth said rising to his feet. “Beware ye who plan to invade the Underground, the Goblin King tickles.” He drew his hands across the air before him as if he had read the headline from some invisible sign.
“Well it does tickle,” Sarah said, her right hand smoothing a section of his hair against his grey frock coat.
“Ahem,” Hoggle coughed. “Might as well sit down. Breakfast will be ready in a minute.”
Both Jareth and Hoggle reached for the head chair. “Habit,” Jareth told him when the dwarf looked up at him with a stony gaze. Instead he sat to the dwarf’s right, next to Sarah Two, across from Drema. Sarah One beside her mother where she could keep an eye on the mortal and the king. Setting huge platters on the table, Drema presented eggs, bacon, and pancakes as well as pitchers of juice and milk.
Taking her seat, she cheerfully announced, “Pass it around, there’s plenty for everyone.”
An uncomfortable silence settled over the table while they all filled their plates until Hoggle asked the question that had crossed Sarah’s mind a dozen times, “Why bring her here? There’s not much to be done. Just her bein’ here fixed up most of what was wrong with this place.”
Coolly Jareth replied, “It was a direct order from the Triumvirate.”
“What’s the matter Hoggle, don’t you want me here?”
“Quite the contrary,” Drema interrupted.
“I just don’t want you anywhere near Tiberon,” Hoggle grumbled.
‘I’ll second that,’ the king thought.
“After what he did the last time you was here...”
Jareth’s eyes snapped onto the dwarf’s, “What happened last time?”
“I told you it was nothing,” Sarah Two said, scowling at her friend. “The other night at the ball Tiberon was a perfect gentleman.”
“That oughtta prove to you he’s up to no good,” Hoggle objected.
“For once I agree with the tiny twerp. Tiberon is a Lytegian breed of fey, known for their ability to beguile others.”
“Boys, enough shop talk in front of the B-A-B-Y,” Drema coughed to draw away from her juvenile spelling.
“I not a baby,” Sarah One protested.
“No you’re not,” Sarah Two agreed. “You’ve grown quite a bit while I’ve been away.”
“I missed you Sarah.”
“I haven’t been gone very long.”
“Yeah, but daddy said the Goblin King was going to kill you.”
“That’s not what I said,” he laughed nervously at the king. Jareth raised his eyebrow.
“Yes you did. You said she was going to disappear in the Labyrinth and get her fool self killed by that rat that calls himself Jareth.”
“Is that what you said?” Sarah asked him through a smile.
Hanging his head, the dwarf grumbled, “Not exactly what I said.”
“If you must know, Jareth saved me.”
“Saved you?” Drema asked. Hoggle’s eyes grew wide.
“Yes, as a matter of fact. See by the time Mason and I finished working on the door, it was late, dark and I was horribly tired. There was this horse.”
“It was a Pooka,” Jareth interrupted.
Sarah looked at him twisting her lips in mock irritation. “Who’s telling this story?”
“Well if you’re going to tell it, tell it properly.”
She went on to relay everything that had happened beginning with her wild ride through the Labyrinth and concluding with their departure from the castle this morning. Well, almost everything. She left out a few things that didn’t warrant repeating in mixed and severely underage company. Her feelings on Maeve she kept brief and civil. The details of her evening with Tiberon even shorter.
“You were fool enough to go off alone with him,” Hoggle slammed down his silverware. Finding a common ground forming between himself and Jareth. The king too, lay down his utensils, crossed his arms over his chest and looked down his nose authoritatively at Sarah.
Without so much as a flinch she continued eating. “I’m old enough to do as I choose.”
“Do you see?” Jareth conveyed his frustration to his new confidant, “Do you see what I have to put up with? I mean I save the girl’s life, I put her up in my home and this is the thanks I get. Blatant disregard for her own safety. It’s like having a teenager ”
“I’m no happier that she’s with you, under yer roof, doing,” a sharp glance from the corner of his wife’s eye and he chose better words, “whatever you ask.” Sarah blushed at the innuendo.
“I assure you,” Jareth resumed his meal, “she’s a far sight better off at my castle than she would be anywhere with Tiberon.”
“Would anyone like to know what I think?” she asked rhetorically.
“No ” The pair spoke in unison.
“I would dear,” Drema said. “I am very curious to know what you think?” Always the voice of reason, Hoggle’s wife brought calm to the breakfast table, stilling Sarah One’s swinging head as it tried to keep up with the verbal fray. The men looked at her, irritated that she had trumped them rather than rushing to protect the girl.
Sarah smiled a satisfied smile, “I think he’s never been anything but nice to me. He was the only one at the ball to pay any attention to me…”
“I had obligations,” Jareth insisted. “I sent Deverell and Turgomon to keep you company ”
“Let her finish Jareth,” Drema told him. Sarah One put a hand to her hip and used the other to wag a finger at the king. As quickly as she turned her attention toward him, she turned her attention back to Sarah Two as if it were the most interesting tale she’d ever heard.
“Who wasn’t being forced” she stressed, “to do so. I just don’t understand what the fuss is all about. He’s no different than you,” she nodded at Jareth. “No different than Gandor or Turgomon or Deverell.”
“Well if you want to make comparisons milady, he is a different species fey than any of the men you just mentioned; however, he is fey. I’ll give you that much, but as I’ve told you he’s Lytegian. You know someone else of Lytegian descent Sarah, someone you met earlier this week. Ranofyr? Do you find him to be the same caliber fey as Gandor or Turgomon or me for that matter.
Sarah sat dumbfounded, unable to meet his gaze, filled with embarrassment at her poorly chosen words, “No I wouldn’t group all of you together.”
Hoggle tried a different approach. “Sarah, we’ve known Tiberon for much longer than you have. He’s not the fey he wants you to think he is. When we were in the woods with him, when I sent my axe sailing at his feet, was that the same Tiberon yer talkin’ ‘bout now?”
“I’m sure I just misunderstood him that day.”
“What’s to misunderstand. He pawed you, he kissed you.”
“He kissed you ” the king was back in the mix.
“Maybe he’s changed.”
“Fey do not so easily change their demeanor,” Jareth protested.
“Oh really,” she fired back.
“That’s different. I was in love with you.” Sarah lifted her eyebrows and cocked her head. “That’s what you’re hoping for? You’re hoping that he’s fallen in love with you. That would make you happy would it?” Smug, the mortal kept her eyes on him as he ranted. “And these feelings you’re hoping Tiberon has for you, are you willing to return them for him?”
She had pushed it this far, it was too late to turn back. He made her wonder about Maeve, now it was his turn to wonder. Her sharp tongue prepared a nasty retort, but before she could, Drema’s cool head prevailed. “If you three want to act like children, go ahead, but you won’t do it in front of my child.” Despite the baby crying her objection to being removed, Drema carried her back to her bedroom, finally conceding to play checkers if she would only hush. Sarah looked at the men left at the table with her. They had been acting like children, all of them.
“Drema’s right.” Standing and removing the dirty dishes from the table she decided, “I owe them an apology. If you’ll excuse me.” She knocked gently on the door of the bedroom that had become familiar to her.
Once hidden inside, Jareth turned to Hoggle, “He kissed her?”
“On the lips.”
“You threw an axe at him?”
“I did,” the dwarf confessed his tone gruff and authoritative like a father’s would be. “Then we sent Gandor after him.”
“You did?”
“I did.”
“Good man, Hoggle.”
“It’s H...ard not to want to keep her safe.”
“Tell me about it.”
They looked at each other for a long minute, sizing each other up. Hoggle had noticed a change in Jareth. What had made him miserable melted away when Sarah came back. There was a change in Sarah too. He saw through her smoke screen, putting Tiberon between them to keep from letting him get close. Probably trying to make him jealous enough to confess his feelings first, so she didn’t have to. “I won’t let anyone hurt her.”
“Understood,” Jareth whispered with sincerity.
***** ***** *****
Drema pulled Sarah close to her, “I don’t want you to go. I hate saying goodbye to you.”
“I’ll be home by nightfall. We’re staying here tonight,” she reassured her.
“Even so, why can’t you just stay here all day?”
“Because,” Jareth interjected, “she’s got to go into the woods, got to see the castle.”
“Don’t so much as take an eye off her,” Hoggle warned.
To maintain the farce, the king looked at him as if to say, ‘You dare tell me what to do.’ Then held out his elbow for Sarah to accept so he could transport them to Tiberon’s castle.
***** ***** *****
They arrived outside the castle gate only seconds later returned to full size. Tiberon’s castle was the most odd of the castles she had seen thus far. I looked like several button mushroom caps attached to a giant mass root system. Each cap representing the top of a turret, designed to blend into the wooded backdrop and appear to be nothing more than a mushroom patch. Before Jareth could ring the Representative was at the door.
“King, what a pleasure to have you with us. Won’t you come in?” he turned to the side and allowed Jareth to enter. As Sarah moved to follow, Tiberon slipped his hand beneath hers, raising it effortlessly to his lips as if he were going to kiss the back of it. At the last second he turned her hand over and pressed his mouth against her palm, “It’s lovely to see you again milady.”
Sarah blushed. Jareth’s face grew red as well, only his hot with anger. “Let’s not waste much time, there’s plenty to be done. What is it that still needs to be repaired in this sector?”
“Surely we needn’t rush. I don’t see why this can’t be a pleasurable experience for all of us.” Tiberon’s violet eyes sat on the mortal as he spoke these words.
“I did not get to be king because I lack efficiency. I’d just as soon we make our plan and set about our business so that we can accomplish something before we must retire to the dwarf’s home.”
“The dwarf’s home?” Tiberon asked, a flare in his voice that announced he had no prior knowledge of these arrangements. Seeing the way Sarah drew back and raised her eyebrows at his outburst, he said more calmly, “But I had prepared two of the finest rooms here for you.”
“Oh, but Hoggle and I are good friends, I would feel terribly rude being here and not staying with him.” The Goblin King smiled, content to allow Sarah to make the objection for once. Tiberon’s expression of utter disappoint was something Jareth would have rather enjoyed remembering, thus he made a special effort to tuck it away in his mind as a souvenir.
“But of course,” he chuckled. “I completely understand,” his smile was cursory at best. “Well then, I suppose we should get down to business then. Let me lead you to the library, I have some maps there that will be helpful.”
As the Representative led them through the main entrance and down the hall to the library Sarah looked around. The castle was mostly stone and wood, a lot like Jareth’s although not as impressively built or plushly decorated. The floors were dirt, not a scrape of marble to be found. When Tiberon opened the door to the library Sarah was surprised to see that it was small and intimate, the wood darkened with natural bark. Unlike the king’s massive library this one contained fewer than two hundred books, a large table with six chairs surrounding it and a small roll top desk tucked in a corner by the window. It was cherry finish and didn’t match anything in the room. It was as if it hid in the corner, scorned by everything else that filled the library, shunned because it was odd.
“That desk is charming,” Sarah remarked when she finished evaluating it.
“My father’s,” Tiberon said coldly.
Jareth looked it over himself. “It always amazed me what Gumlain was able to do when he set his mind to it. It’s a fine piece of carpentry, you should be proud.” The king had spoken in earnest. Gumlain had been a good man, with a kind heart, a pillar of the realm. Jareth often wondered how it is that Tiberon became what he was having two such gentle parents, but children were apt to rebel he supposed.
“Yes,” was that a sneer crossing his lips as he continued, “father was rather handy.” The Representative took a seat at the long table, “You wanted to talk business your majesty, shall we.”
Jareth sat across from him and was pleased when Sarah sat to his left. Tiberon turned the map, making it easier for them to read as he began to explain. “You see here we have a stream bed that’s dried up, there’s got to be a spell that will get it flowing. This clearing was housing until it grew covered by fallen leaves and branches, now it’s little more than a thicket. A series of paths in this area,” he pointed with the tip of his fingernail, which Sarah noticed now had been filed to a point. Perhaps that’s why Jareth always wore those gloves, “have become overgrown. We’ll need to clear those. Finally, in the outreaches of the sector there is a flowerbed that refuses to bloom.”
“I say we start from there and work our way back to the castle,” Jareth said.
“Actually,” Tiberon purred as he dropped the map so that he could scoop up Sarah’s hands, “I was rather hoping to take care of everything else and save the flowerbed till last. It’s so far out in the sector Jareth and giving you directions would be pointless. I’ve already surveyed the land, I know just where it is and how to get there. I’m sure Sarah and I could handle it alone, say tomorrow night, after dinner.”
The king watched, waiting for her reaction. Sarah was staring into his violet eyes already under his spell, “If it’s alright with his majesty.”
“You’ve already made it very clear that you’ve come here with your free will in tact.” Though he tried to act as if her decision mattered less to him than the exact shade of the sky, his inner self struggled to resist the urge to tie her up in Hoggle’s basement and keep her there. At the idea of tying her up his mind wandered.
It wasn’t until he heard Sarah’s sweet voice chime, “In that case I’d love to.”
The Goblin King groaned something indistinguishable. “Well then, that’s settled. Why not have a hearty lunch before we head out to the houses.” Tiberon suggested as he led them back to the main hall and into the other wing of the castle where the kitchen and the dining room were. “Please have a seat,” he pulled a chair out for Sarah. Jareth settled for a seat across from the mortal and Tiberon took the head.
Once they were situated, the Representative rang for his staff. One elvish maid came from the kitchen, curtsied and said in fast, frantic words, “My humblest apologies sir, your majesty and milady, but the staff has run a bit behind and your meal is not quite ready. Can I bring you a drink while you wait?”
“Mead all around,” Tiberon told her.
As she turned to leave, the king called out, “Make mine a brandy, neat.”
The Representative ignored his request. “So Sarah, would you like a tour of my castle while we wait for cook to finish up?”
“Yes, thank you,” she accepted eagerly. Tiberon rose and offered her his arm. By the time they reached the door, the king had yet to join them. “Aren’t you coming?” Sarah asked.
“No. I think I’ll just sit here and wait for my drink, besides, I’ve seen this place before, I’m sure Tiberon would much rather show it to you.”
“Suit yourself.”
Jareth slide down in the chair and slung one of his legs over the arm, “Oh Sarah would you like to see the rest of the castle while we leave the king here to twist his hair until we return,” he mocked. The servant looked very strangely at him when she returned with his brandy. Setting down the crystal snuffer, she backed away. He lifted his palm to her, causing her to stop. Then he downed the drink in one swallow and handed her back the empty glass. She returned in a few moments with another.
Upstairs in the castle, Tiberon made a point of showing Sarah the rooms he had prepared for their stay. Jareth’s was at the beginning of the hall nearest the stairs and contained a simple bed with simple coverings, a small bureau and chaise. He let her peek in some of the other rooms, a bath, a workroom, a sitting room, until only two doors remained unopened. One was the room he had prepared for her, the other his chamber. Tiberon opened the door to what would have been her room, there was a bed, with a grand head board, the dressing all pink and white, enough pillows so that she could have slept on those alone. A small dressing table with matching wardrobe. A velvet covered settee and table sat before a small fireplace. Jareth would have been furious if he had seen the differences between their rooms. Through another door in her room they reached a bath. A deep tub was inside, silver, claw footed with a swan’s neck faucet. A blue curtain to hide the water closet, a full length mirror and silver wall torches.
“What’s through that door,” Sarah asked when she noticed another door across the way.
Tiberon opened the door wide, “My room,” he said. She looked inside, not really noticing much of what was in the room. Sarah was too distracted that he had put their rooms so close and Jareth’s so far away. It frightened her. What did he think? Then again, Jareth had given them adjoining rooms and she hadn’t seemed to mind. But that was different, he was trying to make her comfortable, limit her being waited on hand and foot which made her very uncomfortable. Tiberon had servants to cook and to clean, but not in the droves the Goblin King had, ready to do everything but breath on your behalf. It seemed more purposeful when Tiberon had done it, more ominous. “I didn’t want you to have to wander the halls in your night clothes,” he quickly added sensing her hesitation. Rather than reacting the way he had hoped, the idea of the her sleeping across the hall from him able to make her way to his bed unnoticed trouble the girl. The Representative practically shoved her back into the hall, “Yes, well, let’s see if our meal is ready shall we.”
Back down the hall to the stairs they went, “What’s down there?” Sarah asked.
“Those are my servant’s quarters.”
“Oh,” she said trying to seem interested. Tiberon told her a joke as he helped her descend the stairs hoping it would break the tension before they got back to Jareth.
While he’d been waiting for them to return the king had downed three brandies, each neat, each promptly refilled. Not to mention, he had been joined at the table by a magnificent red head who was hung on his arm when Sarah and Tiberon returned. “And so I said, ‘No, no, he was a HOB goblin ’” They both erupted with laughter when they came through the doors into the dining room. Jareth stood as was customary when a lady entered. Tiberon went to great their new guest, “Maeve, darling, so glad you could join us.” He kissed her cheek, then went to hold out Sarah’s chair.
When they were all seated, Maeve sipped her wine and said, “So you’re the Legend I’ve heard so much about?”
“I suppose I am.”
“We have a lot in common you and I,” she smiled her wide eyes shining.
“How so?” Sarah asked as their meals were being set before them.
Maeve unfolded her napkin and placed it over her lap, “For one, we both let this slip through our fingers.” The fey pawed Jareth openly.
“I wouldn’t say I let him slip through my fingers.”
“Then what would you say,” Maeve was growing irritated that Sarah was not more upset at her line of conversation, but rather rebutted her statements calmly and evenly.
“I defeated him and was sent home,” Sarah looked from Maeve to Jareth and back again. “Tell me, what stopped him from keeping you around?”
The fey laughed uneasily, “Yes, well, we all make choices we sometimes regret, I suppose you can say falling from the king’s grace was mine.”
“Only that one?” she asked in feigned innocence. Even Jareth had to bite back laughter.
Tiberon put an end to the cat fight, “I was just telling them, I thought we’d go and clear the village after lunch, then maybe the path. Care to join us?”
At that moment Sarah could have reach out and swatted Tiberon. Every male fey in the Underground was smitten by this woman she decided. For whatever reason, none she could see, but every last one of them was concerned with her in some way. Now she was going to spend the day with them. ‘Marvelous,’ she thought, ‘What could be better?’
When lunch had ended and the table was clear, the foursome headed for the village. Maeve hung on Jareth’s elbow, which he seemed to neither mind nor find endearing, for the brandy had further muted his normally unexpressive face. Sarah walked along beside Tiberon. Though she didn’t know it, the king was keeping a watchful eye on her, or more to the point Tiberon’s treatment of her. They came to what looked like a patch of briars. “This is it,” the Representative cried. “This used to be a small village, much like Hoggle’s with toadstool houses and tree trunks for the larger breeds.”
Stepping forward, she hoisted a large branch, not afraid to show Maeve that she could walk like a woman even in a man’s shoes. Jareth laughed, “What are you doing?”
“Clearing away this debris,” she stated feeling it was rather obvious.
“We’d be here for a month if you did it like that.”
“What am I supposed to do?” Intent in their debate, these two were unaware of the Representative’s hushed conversations with Maeve in the background.
“What did we spend all night practicing before we came here? Use your magic ”
Jareth should have known better than to get her angry and then tell her to use magic. When Sarah closed her eyes and called upon the wind, a gust with the strength of a hurricane blew up knocking her forward into the king’s arms, the second gust knocked them to the ground along with Tiberon and Maeve. “Jareth,” she shouted above the wind’s roar, “What’s happening?”
“It’s my fault. Your emotions have a powerful effect on your magic. I shouldn’t have told you to do anything while you were angry at me.” The debris was tossing all over, spinning, doubling back and heading for the fey and the mortal. “Just calm down.”
“I’m frightened.” Sarah’s desperate fingers pulled him closer.
“There’s nothing to be frightened of. Close your eyes,” he instructed. “Just think of a warm summer breeze that sweeps over your skin as it carries the stinging rays of the sun’s fire away with it. Feel it wind your hair around your face, kissing at your arms.” The wind died suddenly, the tree branches and leaves stopping in place and falling to the ground. A very large branch dropped close to Maeve, had Tiberon not shoved her out of the way it may have even hit her. “That’s it. You’re doing great. Now make it a stronger wind. Imagine you’re sweeping all this mess off into the forest with a giant broom.” The intensity of the wind began to increase. “Only you’ve got to be forceful enough to get it to move and gentle enough to leave the houses behind.”
It seemed easier doing magic with his tender voice to guide her, his wisdom, his words. Before long the entire village was revealed. Jareth stood and offered Sarah a hand. Tiberon helped Maeve to her feet. Everyone began brushing off. Their clothes need adjusting and their hair was wild. Sarah removed the band from her hair and let it roll from her crown to her shoulders, each lock a perfect spring. Tiberon and Jareth stood mesmerized as she shook her curls free. The king used his magic to reset his mane, while Tiberon tended to his by hand. Maeve’s hair had been done up in an intricate twist, most probably by a servant, for she seemed far too high maintenance to do such menial tasks. She tucked a few stray pieces behind her ears, but was unable to do little more to reset her appearance. Tufts of red stuck up in every direction. Secretly the others laughed. Sarah looked at Jareth, wanting to say things her lips refused to repeat, as was usually the case.
Tiberon grabbed her elbow, “Fabulous work,” he praised. “Now let me show you the path.”
“She’s tired Tiberon. That experience was a bit too much for her. The path can wait until tomorrow.” Jareth told him. “Give me the mortal so that I can see her home.”
“No, I’m fine,” she said sternly even though she really wanted to collapse and let the king hoist her in his strong arms and carry her back to Hoggle’s stump where she could sleep for hours undisturbed. She wouldn’t admit to that though, not with Maeve there, watching, waiting for her to show some weakness, some short coming that she could accentuate. Damned if she’d give her the chance. So on they pressed on, almost a mile to the paths.
Sarah’s legs were weak and shaking by the time they reached the overgrown section, but Tiberon barely noticed as he prattled on about his sector and himself, but Jareth observed carefully while he tried to drown out Maeve’s stories. Bringing up forgotten bouts of lovemaking here and there along the way. Sarah overheard each one, but did her best not to whip around and ask embarrassing questions.
“There it is milady, do your worst,” Tiberon stepped back, fearful that her sometimes clumsy magic might choose him the unwitting victim once more.
This time she thought carefully before she did anything. Jareth mistook her hesitation and rushed to her side. His hand rested at the small of her back, “What’s wrong?”
“I’m just thinking. In my world, they’ll sometimes set controlled fires to burn out a section of forest. Do you think I could control fire well enough to burn back these brambles?”
“It’s not what I think that matters. It’s what you think.”
She smiled up at him resting her hand in his, which lay palm up before her as part of a gesture he had made while he had been speaking. Even here with Tiberon looking on his angry eyes a deeper shade of purple than usual, and Maeve’s wicked stare burning into their backs. Maeve disgusted at the gentility he was showing her, the soft and subtle kindness, it had all been hers once, but she had thrown it away. Tiberon angry that there was anything between them at all. This would make his job far harder. He had expected to need to win her interest, but not her heart.
When Jareth stepped away, Sarah began her slow process of summoning the fire. She pictured a match, struck by her father’s hand, and left to fall into a campfire. The way the flames licked at the kindling until it grew powerful enough to consume even the thickest logs. Her face dripped with perspiration and her hair blew in the backdraft of the flames which neatly carved out the paths before them. In her mind she kept the campfire blazing, never allowing it the freedom to rage out of control, carefully monitoring every ember that blew into the wind, being sure to watch the glow die before the grey ash settled to the forest floor. The spell ended the same way, reversing the energy, reducing the flame as it burnt out all of the kindling, no more than a dying coal now, easily stomped out, left to smolder and eventually cease. When her eyes opened, she gawked at what she saw. Had it really been her magic that did this.
The paths before her were bare and easily maneuverable while the wildlife to either side remained untouched, still green, remarkably healthy. Jareth stood back, arms folded across his chest beaming in pride at what she had been able to accomplish. Tiberon ran up to her lifting her in his arms as he had done the day they first met and spinning her in circles as he showered her in accolades. When her feet touched the ground once more he kissed her. Not as passionately as he had the first day, but far more passionately than she would have liked for him to do in front of Jareth.
The king pretended not to notice as he went to offer his hand to Maeve who had strewn herself across the grass in boredom at being forced to sit through these shenanigans. “Jareth,” she cooed when she finally bothered to noticed the cleared paths. “Let’s go down to the stream. Remember when you took me there. It was such a hot day, at first I only put my toes in the water, but then you convinced me to,” she giggled, “well you remember. Oh, please, let’s go. I’ll let you convince me again.”
“The stream bed is dried up Maeve.”
“Who cares. It’s not like we need a stream, used to be we only needed something I could lie on or lean against. What has that girl done to you?”
The Goblin King was staring at Sarah and Tiberon, infuriated by the closeness she allowed him to achieve, curious if she afforded everyone the privileges she had afforded him. This was unacceptable. This was an outrage. He stomped his boots on the ground, hoping that it caused the underearth to quiver, to warn Tiberon he was on his way, but as he got closer he saw that Sarah was not cuddling into the Representatives arms, but dependant upon them instead.
“I…I was just going to walk her to the stream bed and she collapsed.” His voice didn’t hold near the fear it should have for someone who was holding the unconscious body of a woman he supposedly cared for or at least wanted others to believe that he cared for.
Jareth took the mortal from Tiberon’s arms. His elbow at her waist, he supported her back with his arm and her neck in his hand. “She’s still breathing.” The Goblin King scowled at Tiberon. “I told you she had done enough for one day’s time. You pushed her on and then you tried to take her to the stream bed. Are you trying to kill her?” The Representative shook his head side to side adding a bit of melodramatic fear for effect. He hadn’t really thought about it, but sure why not? If the mortal died he accomplished most of his goal anyway. The kingdom would still be his, but then what would be the fun? Jareth wouldn’t get to watch on as the woman he loved defeated him once more, this time with Tiberon at her side. “Sarah. Sarah.” Her name echoed in the trees, but not so much as a flutter of her eyelids. Jareth produced a crystal in his hand. “Sarah, I know you can hear me. I want you to wish for water Sarah. Wish for a glass of water.” The orb glowed bright blue and took on it’s new shape. The glass was cold, drenched in condensation. The king lifted it to her lips and helped her sip the refreshing liquid inside.
When Sarah’s eyes started to blink, she tried to shove Jareth away, not remembering where she was or what had happened. Though he refused to let go, he did find a rock where he let her sit and helped her to the ground. “What happened?” she stammered.
“You just pushed yourself too hard.” His leather glove smoothed back her hair. “Keep sipping the water and we’ll go home. You’ve done enough for one day.”
“She ought to stay at the castle,” Tiberon argued. “It’s far too far away taking her to the dwarf’s place.”
“My powers are fully restored, taking her there would be as easy as transporting her to Greece.” The Representative curled his lip. Jareth only smiled. Sarah finished the water and the glass disappeared like a soap bubble when she set it on the ground. The king knelt at her side. “Feeling better?”
“A little, but I still don’t feel right. Can we please go back to Hoggle’s?”
“As you wish,” he reassured her as he lifted her into his arms. Tiberon looked at Jareth with hate in his eyes. “If you’ll excuse me, I must get milady home. I trust that you’ll see to your other guest.” The king was well aware Maeve’s presence had not been a happy accident. They too disappeared as quickly as the empty glass.
***** ***** *****
“What did you do?” Hoggle demanded as he attached himself to Jareth’s heels. “I told you not to take yer eyes off her and you bring her back like this ”
Ignoring the dwarf, he made his way to the spare room where the mortal slept. He shoved Hoggle out of the room and closed the door. “She’s sleeping.” The king was about to tell him how Tiberon had been behaving during their visit, but he saw Drema only a few steps behind her husband, her face twisted in concern, her child in her arms and thought it best not to. “The repairs in the southeast sector required her to use magic and she over did it.”
Sarah One wriggled free of her mother’s arms and flew to the feet of the king. Her tiny fists repeatedly pummeled his leather boots. “Whaddid you do to my Sarah? Whaddid you do?”
With a tenderness Hoggle never knew the king possessed, Jareth lifted the child, her rump resting on his forearm. His free hand wiped away the stains that scattered her cheeks. “Your Sarah is just fine. We were in the woods burning a path through the overgrowth and it got very hot.”
“How hot?” she grumbled, tears still racing down her chubby cheeks.
“So hot, the sky was melting,” he told her like it was a fairy tale, which of course it was, but there’s no sense in arguing semantics. “And you see, little one, humans are very susceptible to heat. It can cause them to drip with water or become incredibly grumpy and sometimes they even have to go to sleep.”
“She passed out,” Hoggle mumbled to Drema who then went into the girl’s room with a glass of water in case she woke up. While she was in there she opened the window so Sarah would stay cool. Her body was so still her breath coming in deep steady streams. Her skin terribly flush.
When she emerged from the room with all eyes on her she said, “Sarah will be fine. Nothing to worry about. She just needs to rest.” Truthfully she didn’t know that. For once she was taking the word of the king hopeful that what she had seen in him had been a true change and not one of his tricks or one of his spells.
Drema went to make dinner insisting that Sarah One come help her. “You’re old enough to help with chores,” she said when the girl began to whine.
“It’s not fair,” Sarah One protested. Jareth smiled.
He and Hoggle sat in the living room as the king retold the story this time adding in that Tiberon had invited Maeve to the house, that he had been the one to push Sarah to her breaking point and that he had kissed her shamelessly right in front of him. Hoggle listened intently, anger filling him from head to toe. “I’ll take my axe out there right now. I’ll send a message to Gandor. He was warned ”
“No sense. It’s not you nor Gandor or even Sarah that he wants. It’s me.” Jareth’s leather gloves rolled hand over fist. “I don’t think he realizes what he’s asking for, but if it’s what he wants. It’s what he shall have.”
“Dinner’s about ready, if one of you wouldn’t mind going to check on our sleeping beauty.
Hoggle looked at the king who seemed to be itching to get out of his seat. Jareth observed that the dwarf had equal enthusiasm to tackle the task. “You do it,” Hoggle told him. The king’s eyes grew soft. If nothing else would be accomplished in the southeast at least these two would reach an understanding.
Still tucked into bed, Sarah’s raven hair framed her pale face, it’s usual healthy glow gone for the time being, replaced by more of a bisque color that did very little to detract from her beauty. Jareth reached out to stroke her hair, tucking some strays behind her ears. She didn’t stir, didn’t even blink. Her chest continued it’s monotonous rise and fall. Pressing his lips against her forehead, he could tell that her body temperature had regulated. ‘Best I let her rest,’ he thought. He wanted to stay, vigilant at her bedside until she felt well enough to open her eyes and speak to him. Until he could hear from her lips that she was well, but Drema was expecting him briefly, with or without Sarah. Softly he called her name, “Sarah.” When she didn’t answer he turned to go. At the door he glanced back one last time before creeping back into the hall where Hoggle was waiting.
“Well?”
“Still asleep. I’d rather not wake her. She probably needs the rest after the day she’s had.”
“You shouldn’ta let her do everything he asked.”
“If you haven’t notice by now, I rather doubt you ever will, but no one lets that girl do anything. Furthermore no one stops her from doing as she pleases either.”
“Do you still love her?” Hoggle asked.
“What?”
“You heard me. Do you still love her?”
The king’s lips did not move, his eyes unable to blink, for an instant it seemed as if his heart had forgotten how to beat. “She’s only here for another month, doesn’t matter how I feel. She’ll be going when her times up.”
“That’s the most cowardly way of admittin’ it that I kin think of. I expected more from you, something grand and theatrical, but this...this takes the cake.” The dwarf started walking away from him, toward the dining room, mumbling something the whole way about renaming him the Chicken King and no one would ever know, what with all those blasted chickens running loose. Then Jareth’s fey hearing heard words no one ever challenged him with before. “Why not just admit yer in love with the girl?”
“Hoggle,” the dwarf paused. “I loved her once, rather a long time ago.”
“That was then, this is now...I know, spare me the details.”
“And that love has spanned all these many years. Though I would never admit it to her. Though I would never make her choose between her life and mine, her world and ours. I do still love that girl. Try as I have to keep hold of my soul, it belongs to her and her alone, from now until I die and sometimes I pray that will be soon after her departure. Despite my efforts and the lengths to which I’ve gone, she owns my soul, owns it while it’s still inside me. Do you know what that’s like? Do you have any idea how painful it is to be in constant conflict with yourself? There are times I should be livid, barking at her like she were some disobedient goblin, but I find myself at the same time eager to run to her side and offer her her dreams.” A wistful calm had manipulated his face into something far off and dream like. “But I did that once, more than once and she refused me. We’ve come to terms with one another now. We agree that each of us finds the other attractive, suitable as a...” The Goblin King stumbled for words.
“Just say it,” Hoggle sighed.
“As a mate. We’ve agreed to enjoy each others’ company for as long as we have it.”
“And when she returns Aboveground with your soul, then what?”
“I’d rather not discuss these things, especially with you.”
“Have it yer way. I’m just tryin’ to look out for you. Wouldn’t want to see her fall for Tiberon on account not knowin’ you were in love with her, but don’t mind me.” Again he tried to strand Jareth in the hall.
“I haven’t, as of yet, given her my soul in a physical sense. As long as I manage to retain my physical soul her returning Aboveground won’t kill me.”
“You mean to tell me, you haven’t, even though you’ve...”
Jareth shook his head, “Every time.”
“Every time? Whattya mean every time?” He narrowed his eyes on the king, “Exactly how many times have there been?” Jareth moved his lips to speak, “Never mind I don’t want to know. So fine, she goes Aboveground without your physical soul and you get to live, it’s a far cry better for you than the alternative, but you already admitted that she holds your soul anyway.”
“Yes.”
“So you’ll live, but you’ll wish you were dead. Left here all the rest of your immortal days unable to love anyone but her, a woman you can never have, a face you can never see.”
“It’s my cross to bear. She’ll return home, no more aware of my feelings than when she arrived, she’ll go on with her life without feeling any obligation to me and I will, well I’ll find something to do. I am king after all. An entire kingdom is dependant upon me for,” he stopped what he had been saying. For what? They no longer faced the threat of invasion, the raids were long since put to rest. None but he really kept an army and so anyone who tried at attack would be promptly dealt with. The title king had become a figure head more or less, but someone had to do it and it might as well be him.
“What if she feels the same way about you only she’s scared to admit it?” Hoggle asked after Jareth’s long silence.
“Do you know something?”
Hoggle shrugged, “Just suppose.”
“Her love would need to be a true love. The Triumvirate would only allow her to remain if it was. A fey and a mortal are no longer permitted to reside in this realm under the guise of school girl crushes and fleeting infatuations. How many mortals have ever found true love?”
“Well I don’t know if it’s you. I sure as hell know it’s not Tiberon, but if ever a mortal was born who deserved to find true love, it’s my Sarah. And if ever a mortal was born who was capable of true love...”
“‘Tis her as well. Come now, your wife will know we’re up to something if she doesn’t see us at her table soon.”
***** ***** *****
After supper was eaten and the dishes washed and put away, the small family and their royal guest sat around the fire playing board games, one after the other until Sarah One let out a mighty yawn. “Time for bed munchkin,” Hoggle told her.
“I’m not sleepy,” she grumbled, her eyes closing.
“No, then why are you closin’ yer eyes?”
“I’m inspecting my eyelids for cracks.”
Jareth laughed, “That’s a good one. You’re kids funny Hoggle.”
Proud of herself, now that she had managed to attract the king’s attention, Sarah One was ready to bargain. “I’ll go to bed if the Goblin King tells me a bed time story.”
All eyes were now on Jareth. “Well, I suppose that’s a fair deal.” He stood up from the rather cozy position he’d gotten into on the floor and reached for her small hand. Hoggle and Drema watched them as they toddled away, dragging the king down the hall and giggling. Jareth looked over his shoulder when he became aware of the audience. “What?” he insisted, “It’s not as though I’ve never taken care of children before.” True, just no one had ever really witnessed it.
Back in her room Sarah One made the Goblin King turn around so she could slip into her pajamas and then showed him just how she liked to be tucked in. He perched in her bedside chair and began the tale. “This is a very special bedtime story. One I have never told to anyone before. It’s just for you. Okay?” The tiny girl, now bundled beneath enough blankets to make her seem no larger than a pea shook her head vehemently. “Good. Once upon a time, a long, long time a go there lived a girl named Sarah. She lived in a big house with her father and her step-mother and her half brother named Toby. She was fairly unhappy with her life as all teenagers tend to be, but Sarah was different. For what no one knew was that the king of the goblins had fallen in love with the girl and he had given her certain powers...”
Not long after, Jareth felt eyes on him, coming from the door of the small girl’s room. He turned to see his mortal Sarah in the doorway. “Go on,” she urged him, “I’m rather curious to see how this one turns out.”
“I would think you ought to know.”
Sarah One scuttled out from under the covers, “Sarah Two You’re awake. Are you all better now?”
“Fine, thank you.”
“I’m glad, but um, Sarah?”
She moved closer to the now whispering child, “What sweetie?”
“Could you go away so the Goblin King will finish my bedtime story?” Her tiny hand cupped her mouth and she added, “It’s just for me about another Sarah. He sure does like our name”
“Oh, I see. Sure precious, just let me get my goodnight kiss and you can have the Goblin King all to yourself.” Sarah leaned down. Jareth moved in to kiss her, but quickly realized that it wasn’t him she intended to kiss goodnight. “Love you, Sarah One.”
“Love you, Sarah Two. See you at breakfast.”
Sarah shook her head, smiled at Jareth and left the room. In the kitchen she fixed herself a sandwich and a glass of milk. She felt ridiculously well rested and ravenous. A smile was adhered to her lips thinking of the way Jareth had reacted to her comment about a kiss goodnight, but given their ritual at the castle, it wasn’t completely unexpected. Somehow though, she couldn’t bring herself to do it, not in Hoggle’s house. It seemed disrespectful in a way. She thought about the plans she made with Tiberon, promising to have dinner with him. Remembering what Hoggle had brought up about their first encounter, recalling how he had pushed her so hard today in the woods, made her wonder why she had agreed to this at all. He’d kissed her today almost like he had back then. Perhaps it was just his way of showing appreciation. As for her bout of exhaustion, she could have stopped herself if she hadn’t been so inspired by seeing Maeve go green. He deserved a chance she decided. It was a harmless dinner. Then why did it feel so much like a date? She needed to be there anyway to cast the spells and perform the repairs. Then why did they need to be alone?
In the middle of this argument with herself, Jareth came into the kitchen and sat with her. “Feeling better are we?”
“Feel like Rip Van Winkle,” she kidded.
“How’d you meet him?” the king asked.
Sarah’s mouth hung open in shock, not believing that he was a resident of the Underground as well. At her vexation, Jareth chortled, giving himself away. “You,” she growled.
“Not hungry?” he asked looking at the sandwich. Only two bites had been taken out of the top edge.
She shrugged, “I was. Then I just started thinking what a fool I must have made of myself today when we were with Tiberon and Maeve.” Despite her best efforts, the alluring fey’s name took on a certain tone.
“I had no idea she would be there.”
“You didn’t seem to mind.”
“Suppose I didn’t really. If the southeast is where she’s chosen to live and Tiberon whom she’s chosen to befriend then I imagine I should be prepared to encounter her when I visit there.”
“How do you do that?”
“Do what?” he asked.
“Pretend like you don’t care about someone you used to love.”
“Who says I’m pretending?” That’s right. Now Sarah saw what it was Maeve meant when she said they had something in common. This was it. “Let’s not argue. Maeve is part of my past.”
“But I’m part of your past too Jareth and I’ve come back again. Haven’t you ever heard the expression, when your past comes back to haunt you?”
“Is Maeve haunting me?”
“I don’t know, that’s what I’m asking you.” She bit into her sandwich. “Never mind, forget I said anything.”
“She really upsets you doesn’t she? Why is that?” His voice was tender and his tone sincere.
“I don’t like how she is with you. Always hanging on your arm and making innuendoes, it’s...it’s, well it’s just not right if there really isn’t anything left between you two.”
“Really?”
“Well yes. Any self respecting woman wouldn’t do those kinds of things with a man they had no feelings for.” He raised his eyebrow at her, giving her a look that said, ‘Then explain us.’ “It’s different for you and me,” she began as if she’d heard his thoughts, “you were in love with me once.” She took another bite of the sandwich giving herself time to remember that he had loved Maeve too. “And you were in love with her once too, I forgot. See, so never mind, we won’t talk about it anymore.”
They sat in silence as she finished her sandwich. Jareth made a cup of chamomile tea and traded it for her milk. “You need your rest for tomorrow. This will put you back to sleep,” he told her as he sipped the milk. “Eew How do you people drink this foul tasting liquid?” When her tea was gone, he shut out the light and headed for bed. He was sleeping on a sofa in the living room. Sarah stayed at the table in the dark, “Not going to bed?” he asked her.
“No, I’m going,” she said, now that his question had interrupted her thinking. She walked to the hall but before she left the living room she called back, “Goodnight Jareth.”
Instantly he was at her side, the king kissed her forehead and said, “For what it’s worth, it is different between you and me.” Just as quickly as he had come he was gone. Sarah shuffled back to her room and lied awake in her bed. Not even a pot of chamomile tea would have put her to sleep.
***** ***** *****