Nodding his acceptance, the Representative chose a chair between the Gavel and the Cleric, one which faced the Sage. He briefly greeted the latter two as the servant poured him a brandy, handed him the glass and left the room. “I suppose you’re wondering why I’ve decided to pay you a visit.”
“I was not aware that siblings required an invitation to enjoy one another’s company.”
“If I were here only as a sibling Gavel,” he sighed.
His brother looked upon Gandor with both curiosity and concern, “Do tell.”
Sipping the brandy, the Representative began, “It is my understanding from the king that the mortal was to visit each sector.” The Gavel nodded to indicate his understanding had been correct. “To the extent that you were previously unaware, I had contact with the mortal prior to your becoming notified she was in the realm.”
“Go on.”
“Oh bother with the explanations! Regardless of how, I have knowledge, direct knowledge, that the mortal was being, and may again be, the target of Tiberon’s exploits.”
Across from him, the Sage choked on his brandy forcing the brown liquid to come spewing from his lips. “Are you alright?” the Cleric asked.
“Fine…f…fine,” he stuttered as he wiped at the stains beginning to form on his robe.
“As I was saying, aside from being generally improper with all of his actions and conversation, Tiberon has seen his way to drugging the girl, for what purpose I cannot clearly say, as his thoughts are not my own, but I tell you this, Tiberon has no love lost for our king. Not a creature in this realm isn’t familiar with the story of Jareth and Sarah and it doesn’t take a wise or passionate man to know the two are at constant odds with their feelings for one another. If Tiberon plans to use this girl to overthrow the king, it is treason in its most basic form and it cannot be allowed to happen.”
“I know of no plans for treason against the king,” the Gavel said undaunted.
The Cleric sat up, alert and offered, “I know of no such plans, but don’t be a fool Gavel, who would notify the Triumvirate of plans to overthrow the king. If Jareth’s back needs looking after I, for one, will do it.”
The Sage remained quiet. “Sage, what have you to say?” the Gavel asked.
“I know of no such plan to overthrow the king.” Sheepishly, he hid behind his glass.
Gandor was a perceptive fey and not so easy to turn a cold shoulder as his brother, “But you do know something, don’t you?”
“Why would you assume…”
“Don’t skate around me, questioning my question. If ever guilt took up homestead on a face, it has flagged yours now. Sweat beading on your forehead.” The Sage wiggled in his chair made uncomfortable by the Representatives keen eye. “And the way you shift in your seat as though you’d rather be anywhere but here.”
“You may be my brother,” the Gavel roared, “but it is not within your scope to bludgeon my constituent. We are a supreme law.”
“Supreme law? You talk to me of supreme law? Were we not schooled by the same parents, taught the same values? Do you mean to insinuate that there is no one to whom the Triumvirate must answer?” Gandor narrowed his eyes upon the Sage, an uncharacteristic harshness upon his normally jovial face. “There is but one supreme law and that is the law of the Supreme One. He alone decides what is just and fair. His power is infinite and it governs you all. But let’s assume, for a moment, that you are all above his law. At night, when your head rests upon your pillow, does the sleep come easy or does the secret that you keep call to you from inside your own skull? It’s a frightening sound, isn’t it? One that you can neither cast out nor diminish. What does it say to you?”
“Damn you Gandor, and damn me,” the Sage moped. “Sure as I have been chosen by the elders I pledge my atonement.”
“What have you done?” the Cleric asked.
“He came to me, Tiberon, and asked me to do him a favor. He knew that you, Gavel, would want Sarah gone and that you, Cleric, would want her to stay. My job was to advocate the mortal’s stay in the Underground and to sway you,” he indicated to Gandor’s brother, “to agree.” The gavel was visibly upset at being manipulated by his constituent. “I did as he asked. The rest was in his hands. I imagine he planned to woo the girl away from Jareth sending him into a pit of despair, as her rejecting him before had done and then, taking advantage of his weakness to challenge him for the throne.”
“But we appoint the king. Even in the event of Jareth’s death, we are the one’s who would appoint the next king. The throne cannot be challenged!” Pounding his fists off the arm of his chair, the Gavel shouted these words, his anger growing.
The Sage, swallowed hard as he finished what brandy remained in his glass. “Not even by the eldest son of the former king?”
Gandor looked at these men, a once united front, crumbling before him. “What are you saying?”
“Tiberon is the eldest male child of Darien, the former king.”
The Cleric asked, “How? How could that be? How could you know this?”
“Take my confession,” he pleaded with his friend, “I carry within me the great burden of truth. I wish to offer my burden to the Supreme, so that he might give me my penance and help to again become the sane and happy fey I remember being. Tiberon was born out of wedlock to my great niece, Liril. She wished to claim the baby as Gumlain’s and so it has been all his life. Tiberon eventually figured things through and Darien used his position as king to appoint his son Representative before leaving the throne. In Tiberon’s mind he is and always has been the rightful king of the Underground.”
Gandor’s mouth was hanging open, as was the Cleric’s. “Brother, I beseech you, he plans to overthrow the king.”
“And so it would seem, but at the moment I’m a bit more concerned about what the Sage has done.” He turned his attention to the fey, “It is a serious omission of fact you’ve chosen to involve yourself in. You have betrayed a countless number of people and I’m not entirely pleased with the idea of you having manipulated me. Your niece has always been a careless fool and her husband the largest dimwit in the land, but from you I expected more. You disappoint me and you will be punished.”
“Gavel,” the Cleric countered. “He is a heavily burdened man. He shall seek retreat.”
“Punishment.”
“Retreat.”
“If both of you pleases, perhaps I could seek my retreat in some unpleasant location and combine the two sentences you’ve given me,” the Sage suggested.
The Gavel’s eyes gleamed, “Wise man! You shall spend a period of one week with Ranofyr in the Northwest sector of Jareth’s kingdom.”
“Gavel, really?” the Cleric interjected.
“I’ll hear no more.” He made it clear that he was not willing to negotiate. A gesture of his arm and the Sage was vanished, sent to fulfill his sentence.
“If I may,” the Representative attempted to recall the point of his visit, “in light of his confession, you surely realize the king is in grave danger. Tell me that you will provide him with some assistance. Tell me that you will see to it that Maeve and Tiberon are punished.”
“Maeve?” the Cleric asked.
“Indeed, how did the sweet Maeve entangle herself in such a web of deceit?” the Gavel asked his brother.
“Entangled, she’s spun the damn thing. She’s used her skills as an apothecary to grind the poison Tiberon used against the mortal. You must put an end to their treachery!”
“Dear brother, this is why I was asked to hold this position and you are to manage elves no higher than the snow they frolic in. I must do nothing. Jareth is king, he has an army. It would be good practice for them if he were attacked. We’ve not had a good fight in these parts since the raids, I say let the battle rage.” His eyes grew wide.
“And you would pit fey against fey once more, spill more blood for the throne?” Disappointment saturated the Cleric’s face.
A heavy sigh from the Gavel displayed his boredom with the topic at hand. “Myths, not facts. That ought to decrease the threat of blood shed by half.” He was the only one to laugh at his joke.
The Cleric, now irrate, slammed his palms against the arms of his chair. “You have hated him since he was a child and for nothing more than being born.”
“Not just born, born mortal,” the Gavel reminded.
“Mortal?” Gandor had not been privy to this information prior to now.
“Born to parents who loved one another, regardless of their race or class.”
“Nonetheless,” disdain dripped from the Gavel’s words.
“We christened him fey, we ended the chain.” The Representative watched the two of them banter taking in all the bits of information they were willing to offer.
“And now, with this mortal, he plans to start it up again.”
“Then perhaps it was not within our power to terminate it from the beginning.”
“Do you wish to challenge me as well?”
“If I must. What will you do...banish me as you have the Sage? You know there must be at least two of us present at any time, otherwise, we would be a monarchy and that is not the way the law,” he stressed, “is structured. You would not desire we break the law, would you?”
“No, indeed,” he purred
Gandor could hold his tongue no more. “Gentlemen, I don’t mean to disturb the feud you’ve got brewing here, but I must know if you plan to do anything to assist the king.”
“I shall do nothing,” the Gavel insisted. “Jareth is king. He must care for an entire kingdom. It seems obvious to me that he should be capable of caring for himself.”
“In the name of the Supreme One, what kind of monster are you trying to be?” his brother pleaded.
“Were it up to me, I would tell Jareth myself what fate awaited him; however, it seems as the Gavel has made it impossible for me to take my leave. I see no problem with your reviewing this evening’s events with him.”
“Must you ruin my fun every time?” the Gavel exasperated.
“We are at the same impasse we were where the Sage was concerned, Gavel. I will bend for you but I refuse to break. You may not want to help Jareth and I may be unable, but Gandor can and he will. Besides, if I know your brother, and I venture I do, perhaps more so than you, he would do it anyway, even without your blessing. Gandor, you are excused. I believe there is discussion which must take place which your brother may be upset were you to overhear.”
“Yes my lord. Thank you my lord.” He turned to the Gavel, “Brother, you forget the humble beginnings by which our parents came to be. You forget that were not our father the subject of a sneak attack in the raid, he would be alive today to tell you how far removed you have become from the fine man he raised.”
“How dare you throw father in my face? He should have known better. He should have anticipated.”
“Some things cannot be anticipated. What has come to be cannot be changed and perhaps what has come to pass was what was meant to be.”
“Get out!”
“Admit you’re angry with him. Admit you’re angry at him for dying when he was supposed to be immortal. Then maybe you’ll see that you don’t hate Jareth at all. You’re just angry at him because he is so much like father. He is alive and able to love as purely as our royal father loved our common mother. Angry that such a love cannot grow in your heart of stone.” The Gavel remained silent, “Chip away at the stone, I beg you, before it’s too late. Father would want that, I want that.”
“Get out.” This time his order lacked the gusto it had only seconds earlier.
***** ***** *****
Dinner had been served and cleared away in the castle dining room. Neither Sarah nor the king had managed to join the others. Arulan kept quiet about all she had seen, not allowing so much as a hint to escape. “The king had things to attend to and the mortal was off to see her dwarf friend. Don’t know a thing otherwise so don’t ask,” she told them.
Meanwhile, in the sitting room, off the hall which led to the dining room, Sarah and Jareth sat in each other’s embrace. “I could stay like this forever,” she told him after a stretch of silence.
“Were it in my power, I would reorder time to make it so.”
Sarah spun around to face him. “That’s it. You can reorder time. You’ve done it before.”
“Your time here is set by the Triumvirate and only they can reorder that time.”
“Funny that here where everyone’s immortal we’re concerned about time.”
Jareth’s fingers stroked her hair, “Yes, I suppose it is.”
“How did we get here?” she asked nuzzling into his touch.
“Well, I was here already, with Arulan, getting her opinion on the song I had prepared for you, when you stopped by to eavesdrop. Then you walked in and foiled yet another surprise I had for you.”
Sarah squinted, realizing she asked the wrong question. “I didn’t mean here in this room, I meant how did we get together like this?”
“Ah, entirely different question all together that is. I sat down first, then you sat in my lap. There was some kissing, though not enough, never enough, and then you turned your back to me and rested against my chest.”
Rolling her eyes she asked, “Not enough kissing is it? How,” Sarah planted a few quick kisses against his palm, “on Earth,” a few more kisses against his chest, “or in the Underground for that matter,” his neck, “can we remedy that?” She captured his bottom lip between hers and massaged it gently. Jareth deepened the kiss, rolling his tongue over hers. One hand clutched the small of her back as the other reached for the pins in her hair. He tossed them recklessly to the floor and pulled free her restrained locks. As his passion for her, amongst other things, grew, he tightened his grasp on her hair, jerking her head back at one point. Sarah gasped as her mouth was yanked from his. Jareth’s eyes went wide before he clamped his jagged teeth on her throat. A moan replaced the sigh. “Are you trying to distract me, your majesty?”
“No, in fact, I was hoping to review my vowel sounds by having you emit each of them from between your perfect lips. I believe the question you’re attempting to ask is a relatively easy one. I can no longer enjoy myself with you while hiding my true feelings. You may find me cruel at times Sarah, but I have always been honest. To be dishonest with you was truly the hardest thing I have ever done.”
“When did you know you loved me?” she asked.
Jareth smiled, “My mind knew the moment I met you, my body the first time we touched, my heart the minute after you left and my soul the second you were born.”
“How do you take the most common words and craft them into such a tapestry?”
Deciding to tease her a bit more, Jareth explained, “First I think them up in my head, then I let them loose from my lips.”
‘Smart ass,’ she thought. “These lips?” Sarah asked, her finger and thumb tugging at the king’s bottom lip. He nodded. “Be nice if I could say pretty things like that.”
“You know, I heard a rumor, and it is just a rumor you know, but they say if you rub your lips against the lips of someone who has a way with words the trademark can sometimes rub off.”
“Well, such rumors should be thoroughly explored. As king, I believe it is your duty to research such rumors first hand. After all, you wouldn’t want your subjects falling prey to any vicious rumors, would you?”
“Oh my, no!” he feigned distress. “This is a matter of utmost importance, rumor research, hmmm, I wonder if Deverell would mind seeing to this for me so that I could concentrate on repainting my study.”
Curling her lips, Sarah exclaimed, “Jareth!”
“Just kidding love, let the experiments begin.” Their lips met in perfect unison, each giving in and agreeing to meet in the middle of the open space between them, it was less a matter of who had official kissed whom, not the hurried, passionate overpowering of one by the other. Instead it was a kiss of gentle equality. The mortal as wanton as the king. Jareth began to gather Sarah’s long skirt in his hands. ‘Damn,’ he thought. He’d become used to the short shift dresses that Arulan had made. Disappointment abandoned him as he rolled his palms over Sarah’s bottom, squeezing her rump and pressing her to him.
She smiled when she pulled back her face to look at him. “Should we be doing this? Here I mean.”
“It is my castle.”
Pulling down her dress as she stood, Sarah stepped on one of the pins from her hair. “I know, but anyone could just walk in.” She set about to finding the other pins.
Jareth’s intentions strained at the fabric of his breeches. “I have a well mannered staff Sarah, no one is going to just walk in here without knocking.” Suddenly the door burst open. “Uncanny.”
“Your majesty, excuse me, but....Sarah?” Deverell said as the king shifted uncomfortably. Finally he settled upon crossing his legs in hopes of hiding his arousal from eyes not meant to see it. He grimaced as he did.
“Good evening Deverell.”
“If I may be so bold milady. The Hoggles must have been having quite the affair. You look particularly striking.” He now knew what Arulan had told them during dinner was a lie, but it was a lie he could live with. It was difficult, after all, to explain any other way, why it was the mortal’s lipstick matched the king’s. Sarah smiled at the compliment, her cheeks blushing with just a hint of shame at being caught behaving like some sex crazed teenager.
“Have you some reason to come bursting in here without so much as a knock on the door?” Jareth asked.
“Aye your majesty. Quite an urgent one, which is why I went without the knock.”
“Urgent you claim,” Jareth said, cocking his head and resting it on one hand. “Has a chicken escaped the Goblin City?”
“Sire, it’s Gandor. He’s come to the castle and insisted he speak with you. Arulan directed him to Turgomon and me, but having heard what it was he’s come to tell us, we unanimously agree you should speak with him.
“What is it he’s come to tell us?” this time the king’s inquiry came with more interest.
“Sire, he’s waiting to see you in your office, I think you should meet with him.” Jareth looked at the young fey, gauging the expression on his face. “And you miss, he said that if you had returned,” he spoke the word a bit uncertainly, “he’d like to see you as well.”
Knowing the Representative wanted to see Sarah as well, changed Jareth’s tone. Thankful the throbbing between her legs had subsided, he rose from the settee. “Sarah,” she looked at him, concern knitting her brow, “Would you like to come with us?”
“If Gandor has asked to see me specifically, I suppose I should.”
“I’m not advocating you doing anything you don’t want to do.” His hands fell to her waist in a tender and protective way which Deverell made quick notice of. Sarah lifted her finger and began wiping away the traces of lipstick which stained his face.
Suddenly uncomfortable in their presence, Deverell suggested, “Perhaps this is not the best time for me to have ah...interrupted you.”
“Arulan’s been keeping secrets I see,” Jareth smiled. “Deverell, you should know, as should the others in the castle I suppose, that I’ve decided to court Sarah.”
“You owe me no explanations, your grace.”
“Aye, I suppose I don’t. But, I would sing this from the rooftops.” With that, he hoisted Sarah into the air and spun her around. “Now then, shall we go see what our good friend has to tell us.”
“Indeed,” Sarah took his arm and he led her to his office where the representative waited for them. Deverell was happy to see they’d finally conceded to the feelings that were obvious between them, he only hoped the news they were about to receive wouldn’t darken their day.
***** ***** *****
“How nice of you to pay us a visit,” Jareth said to Gandor as he entered his office. He looked around at all the faces, Arulan, Dalkeil, the healer and Turgomon. It occurred to him that this may all be an elaborate plan to gather together those close to the king in light of the decision he’d made. “Before any of you says anything,” he began. We have an announcement to make.” Gandor’s heart sank. His news would surely sour this happy occasion. “As some of you know,” Arulan smiled a knowing smile and Deverell averted his eyes. “I’ve decided,” he looked at Sarah with a great love and admiration in his eyes, “to court my mortal.”
“Oh,” the elf gasped as tears began to fill her eyes. She’d waited a long time to see Jareth happy. Sarah smiled back at her. The men offered their congratulations to the king with a sturdy handshake and to the mortal with small hugs. That was to say until it was Arulan’s turn. She grasped the girl so tight a distinct ‘Ooomphf!’ could be heard as the oxygen fled her lungs, but there was an immediate roll of laughter.
All the while Gandor stayed somber. “It’s fantastic news old man, and not a better woman could you have chose.” The representative pumped the king’s hand while he said to the girl, “And you miss. Are you sure you want to hedge your bets with this one? I’ll say it again, if only I were a few centuries younger.”
“And mortal,” Sarah added. “That’s what you told me.”
“Jareth,” her eyes turned up at the king, “You said yourself, the Triumvirate will never allow you to court me.” It sounded silly saying that, but now was not the time for such comments.
Though the king moved to respond to her, it was Gandor whose words first fell. “Don’t give it a thought. Enjoy what you have as long as you are meant to have it. Don’t think this over, before it has even had a chance to begin.” With a heavy sigh, Gandor turned back to the king. “Forgive me for doing this on what should be a very happy day for the two of you; however, I bring you news from the Triumvirate.” Though it would have surprised Sarah to know they’d found out so quickly, she was terrified by the thought of what Gandor might say next. “Tiberon has plans to take your throne.”
“How can that be? The Supreme One knows he’s not my child. The Triumvirate has no reason to wish to see me dethroned. Certainly they have less reason to want to see Tiberon hold the throne.”
“All that being true, your majesty, Tiberon is something far worse than you could imagine.” Gandor gulped down the lump in his throat. Sarah instinctively moved closer to the king’s side. “Tiberon is Darien’s first born son. He’s never gotten over your mother being made queen.”
“Ridiculous. My mother never had any siblings.”
“None that were legitimate. Darien apparently had an affair with a commoner,” he chose not to reveal Liril’s name and implicate the Sage. His exile to the northeast was punishment enough. “Darien being the kind of fey he is, denied the child, claiming he was far too virtuous to have a child with anyone other than his wife. This woman, ashamed of what she had done, and desperate for a suitable father for her child, chose another man and passed the child off as his. However, Tiberon figured out who his true father was, but by then, Leanan Sidhe already had the throne. He’s had you marked ever since.”
“It is not I who chose to hide his lineage, nor to overlook it when the throne became available. If you were to ask me, he should have a word with his father,” a definite tone finished his sentence.
“Yes well we all know Tiberon is not you. To him, Darien is a great hero who was limited in his abilities to rule by the Triumvirate and by Arianna.”
“Not quite. He was limited by his laziness and by a divining rod libido which led him into any moist patch he could find, damn the consequences. If it hadn’t been for my grandmother, I shudder to think what the Underground would be like.” Jareth realized now what stunned him most of all, “Gumlain. Gumlain was Tiberon’s father. We talked of him when we were at his castle during our visit to his sector. I always knew he was too good a man to spurn the likes of Tiberon. But Liril, Liril is the Sage’s great niece, what in all the Underground would make her take an animal like Darien to her bed?”
“He did seem to have a sort of way with the ladies,” Turgomon added.
Jareth curled his lips in disgust, “Most likely he subjects them to the same chemicals his son uses.” Sarah lowered her head. “I’m sorry, love, I didn’t mean for that to sound the way it did. I told you he planned to take my kingdom and now I know his motivation.”
“Tiberon planned to win Sarah’s heart, reducing you to what you were the first time she left and then challenge at your weakest moment for the throne. I’m not entirely certain that he doesn’t still intend to do this,” the Representative explained.
“Gandor,” Jareth began in a sure and steady voice, “You see that he was unable to win the heart of my mortal. Let him come for my throne. I assure you, he will learn that is solidly mine as well.” Hearing him word his determination that way, made Sarah feel safe. Not to mention, she was now fully able to appreciate the way he so often referred to her as his mortal. “Dalkeil, you’ll begin working with Deverell immediately. Then the two of you will whip the goblin armies into shape. Make them aware there is rumor of an attack upon the castle. Tell them they must be alert and prepared. If Tiberon wants to take my throne, let him come, let him try, but I don’t think he has what it takes to face me proper, let alone defeat me, not now.”
An amazing transformation had taken place in the king the moment he allowed his heart to speak. Stood before this small collection of the people closest to him, Jareth was ten feet tall. Few had ever seen him this way. For Arulan it had been a long time since she saw him so vivacious and confident. Sarah was good for him, they all knew it. She had come back, back to the king, back to his kingdom, assumed her rightful spot beside the man who loved her. Those who watched them stand as a front together hoped it wasn’t too late for her to save him or to early for them to believe she could.
“Jareth,” Gandor said slowly, “You know as well as I do your armies haven’t fought in...hell they’ve never fought.”
“If Dalkeil can teach Deverell to fight, he can surely manage a few goblins.”
“I’m only thinking we shouldn’t become overconfident.”
“What would you have me do? Hunt him down before he can attack me? And face the Triumvirate for something, I have no doubt they would blame on me somehow? Ask the Triumvirate for help? That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? The Triumvirate aren’t coming. The fey armies are disbanded, many of them with no intention of ending their retirement to defend a castle that houses a mortal in it’s walls. You few here and my goblins, and my” it crossed his mind to call Sarah his queen, but he didn’t want to push, “mortal are all I have. But are we not ready?”
“Aye!” cried the crowd.
“Do we believe we can best him?”
“Aye!” they called again.
“Can’t you just take away his position as a Representative?” Gandor suggested.
Jareth’s hand flew in the air, “So I can infuriate him more? Shy of exiling him to the opposite side of the mountain, which we both know, I lack the authority to do, Tiberon will come at me when he makes up his tiny mind to do so. Let’s not have me pour salt on his wounds.”
“Then perhaps we should make certain he doesn’t know of your announcement concerning Sarah,” Turgomon offered.
Jareth looked at the beautiful woman who quietly whispering to him that this was all her fault. His palm cupped her cheek as he told her, “No.” Though he didn’t move his concentrated stare, he said to Turgomon, “I wouldn’t send him a copy of the announcement, but I won’t hide it from him either. I have hid my love for this woman long enough, I refuse to do it another day, another moment. His arm drew her face to his, were in front of everyone present, their lips joined in a kiss that spoke as succinctly as Jareth’s words.
Arulan began crying again. Dalkeil and Turgomon turned away. Deverell was spellbound, this being perhaps the most romantic thing he had ever seen. Gandor’s face which had been hanging until this moment suddenly began to perk at the corners. “What is it they say?” the healer piped up for the first time during all this exchange. “If you can’t beat them, join them.” When he first met the girl he’d warned Jareth, she would be a handful and by the looks of things, his hands were full. One by one they filed out of the room leaving them to their business.
When at last they became cognizant of the world around them, Jareth grinned wickedly, “Must be getting late if everyone was so eager to run off.”
“Jareth, exactly what does courting mean?”
“It’s much like mortal dating, only there are certain formalities which are to be observed, most of which are merely good manners to start with, but for example, I had to ask permission from someone who assumes responsibility for you before I could suggest the idea.”
“You asked my father?”
“No, I didn’t really think that would be a wise idea. I asked Hoggle.”
“Hoggle?” she asked disbelieving.
“Yes, Hoggle.”
“And he said yes?”
Jareth grew serious, “No, he said no and I had him dipped in the Bog of Eternal Stench.” A moment’s pause and he added, “Yes, he said yes.”
Astonished, she repeated, “He said yes, huh?”
“Would you have wanted him to say no?”
For a second, she pretended to consider the idea, “Well.” Rather than listen to whatever comment she was brewing to level him, Jareth went back to kissing her. “Is that what you’re going to do every time I attempt to say something you don’t want to hear?”
“Every time,” he told her. “And maybe even some of the time when I do want to hear you.”
“So when will you find time to court me if we’re supposed to be taking care of the lands in and around the castle these last two weeks?”
“There are ways, I am king after all. I shall accompany you on your errands. You’ll see.” he told her as he hurriedly cut himself off. “I’m through letting you in on the surprises I have in store for you.” With that the king snapped his fingers and they were gone from the office.
***** ***** *****
When Sarah opened her eyes, they were standing in her bedroom. “Ah, you’re not suggesting that we...share this room tonight, are you?”
Given how Jareth had spent these last four weeks with Sarah, he didn’t much care if they shared the room, he just wanted to be sure they shared the bed. His teeth gnawed at her neck, “You’re so right. We shouldn’t share this room tonight. My bed’s bigger,” his eager hands clutched her waist and began nudging her toward the adjoining door.
“What happened to taking this as slow as I wanted?”
“Oh, come now, I’ve been wrong before. As a man involved in a relationship I am prepared to be constantly wrong from this moment forward.”
“Jareth,” she reprimanded.
“I said that? I mean, of course, I said that and I stand by it. As you wish, “ he bowed to her capturing her hand in his and it was trembling. “Sarah, love, are you frightened of something?”
“I just don’t want to disappoint you. I know what you’re feeling runs deep and has been with you awhile, but for me this fantasy in only a few hours old. I wouldn’t feel right after only a few hours.”
“It’s not as though we’ve not been together before now?”
“I know, but it seems different now. I mean when I thought we were just doing it for the sake of doing it there wasn’t so much pressure, but the next time you take me to bed, or wherever,” at the thought she couldn’t resist smirking, “it will be to make love to me. That brings with it a certain amount of expectation. Will you be horribly disappointed if we sleep apart tonight?”
“Only a fool would not be,” he countered. “Every moment when I am able to hold you in my arms and cannot, is a great disappointment to me, but I don’t want to rush you Sarah. My door is always open and you may come to me as you please.” The raise of his eyebrows punctuated the last sentence in an obvious way. Placing a kiss on the back of her hand, Jareth walked through the adjoining door, before closing it again, he called her name. “Sarah,” she turned to face him, “just so you know, we have never done it, just for the sake of doing it, as you say.”
Jareth had a way of making her regret everything she’d ever said. Just then she regretted not letting him stay, but some idiotic notion of what was proper and the how to be a lady drills had won over the ache she had, which sieged her body. Sarah changed into a simple pink camisole top and short set made of silk with lace trim and wiggled between the sheets. For a great while she just stared up at the ceiling, wondering if it would be too bold to slip through the door and into the king’s bed. Somehow, the idea that real love had the potential to exist between them frightened her into missionary thoughts, of ritualistic love making on the same night every week, with the lights off and only if he was in the mood. Sarah tried to figure out where she’d gotten the idea that committed love needed to be that way. After all, their’s had been an open relationship up until now. Jareth had taught her much of what she had failed to learn in her world. She’d become far more vocal when it came to her desires and her joy, why did the threat of commitment need to change that.
Simply it did not. Jareth wanted her, that was obvious from how they had parted company. He wasn’t about to push, unless she wanted him that way, it just wasn’t like him. But if she were to push, how would he react, she wondered. Doubtful that he would refuse her, doubtful he would push her away. In fact, he may even respect a healthy use of aggression on her part. He certainly didn’t seem to mind when they had been traveling west together. Back and forth she weighed the scenario in her head. The positives and the negatives, of how he might react, what he might say or think.
On the other side of the wall that separated them, Jareth had forced himself to sleep, reasoning that a dream of her was better than lying awake and trying to fend off a desire for her. It had taken a number of hours, but shortly after three in the morning, the Goblin King was resting comfortably, dreaming of his mortal.
She’d come to him through the adjoining door which he’d left unlocked. Slipping silently into bed beside him, her warm soft body pressed against his bare back as her long legs conformed to the curve of his, nothing between them, but the thin silk of his sleeping pants and the sensual pliant layer covering her skin. Like air her palms were gliding over his bare chest, daring every now and again to dip over his mid-section or toy with the waistband of his pants. Her sweet breath hot on his shoulder as she sighed at their very closeness. With a precision only Sarah had, she lay small kisses across his back and along the curve of his neck until, even in his sleep, Jareth’s only desire was to taste her skin. One of the king’s hand, cloaked in his silk night gloves, stilled a hand of the mortal’s and rose it to his lips, which he pressed down upon fingers which had only seconds earlier been caressing him skillfully.
Though groggy, the king’s heightened sense determined it was not fantasy flesh he’d put to his lips. With a bit of a jerk, he turned in the bed. His eyes set upon her appreciatively as he moved his hands along her body eager to be sure his dream had ended. Her body still shook with small tremblings that made him ask, “Sarah if you don’t want to...”
But before he could finish the question, her fingers caged his lips. “I want nothing more than to be here with you and if you send me back, I shall lie awake, restless all night. Something in me is missing when I’m not with you, Jareth. Damned if I can explain it, but I feel it.” Sarah closed her eyes and pressed against him in a firm in embrace. “I hope that you don’t find me too brazen, coming to you like this.”
“Not at all. I’m flattered that you wanted to be here.”
“I do,” she whispered into his neck. “I really do.” Jareth lay back, keeping his right arm around Sarah whose head rested against his chest. Her hand continued its serpentine pattern over his chest and stomach while he stroked the long black locks which covered her shoulders. After a moment, Sarah propped up on her elbow and stared down at the king. He was magnificent when he was at ease and she couldn’t resist lowering her lips to his pale chest and covering it in small kisses. As her leg slid along the silk of his sleeping pants, Jareth raised an eyebrow. “Am I much worse than other woman you’ve taken to bed?” she asked.
“What?” Embarrassed, Sarah’s head fell back to his chest. Jareth kissed her raven crown. “I hope you’re not asking me, what it is I believe you are.”
“Why? I can take the truth, Jareth. I know you been with a large number of woman, far more experienced than I am.”
“It hasn’t been a particularly large number schematically. As for experienced, they have been that, but not experienced with me, not cognizant of the way I like to be kissed, the touch I respond to most. To be honest, none but Maeve has ever been with me more than once, and even before the first time I kissed you, you were able to give me more than she ever could. No one has ever taken my soul from me Sarah, no one until you. You’ve been the only one I could trust that much. So let them have their experience, you and I are building an intimate knowledge of one another and that is worth more than all the experience even the greatest courtesans could acquire.”
She wondered if he would perpetual find just the right words at just the time she needed to hear them. As she watched him speak, his mouth grew more and more perfect, until it seemed a shame to her they had stilled. Without hesitation, she brought her lips crashing down upon his. Every few seconds, Sarah would break their kiss to pull back and admire him. “When’s the last time you’ve been with a woman whose sole intent was to please you?” she asked.
Jareth cocked an eyebrow, one corner of his mouth curling slightly, “I suppose no woman has ever been with me who did not expect something from me in return.”
“Well then I suppose there is that way in which I can still be your first.” Sarah’s eyes fell closed, a light smile on her lips. In seconds the candles in the room began to spark to life filling it with a warm glow, casting a yellow hue on Sarah’s skin that made it glimmer like gold.
“Impressive,” he told her. She sunk to his neck, covering the tender flesh in small kisses and quick nips that made his body tingle. Afterward, her warm tongue lapped his flesh to ease the ache her teeth had left. Down his chest, she continued to work with the same pattern in small patches. When she reached the silk of his waist band, Sarah flung her leg over him and perched above him. Catching his eye, she held his stare and lowered her crotch to his. The flimsy layers of silk between them did little to hide the heat or the hardness of Jareth’s erection. Her thin fingers, which no longer trembled, traveled from his shoulders to his palms. She held each finger to her lips and kissed the tip.
‘To hell with the gloves,’ she thought. If he wanted them on, let him have them. Sarah rested his palms on her breasts. He could easily feel her tight nipples through the sheerness of the fabric. She kept her hands on his as he kneaded at her fleshy mounds. When her hands did leave his she slipped the thin straps of the camisole over her shoulder and let the top fall to her waist. Jareth’s hands covered her naked breasts, still massaging them. He lifted his head so that he could envelop her nipple and bit gently upon it as he sucked causing her desire for him to grow.
Sarah’s head threw back. The windows of the room tearing open at the same time, blowing her long hair over her exposed spine, intensifying the sensations Jareth provided. Gently he rolled her back onto her side. Eagerly she worked at his pants while she had him in this vulnerable position. Freeing him of the silk barrier, Sarah reached between his legs and ran her hand up his inner thigh, over his sensitive stretches of skin and finally along the shaft of his engorged member. But it wasn’t until she knelt between his legs and took him into her hot mouth that she heard him gasp. Beginning with slow deliberate strokes Sarah’s tongue coated him with saliva, allowing him to slide easily between her lips. Jareth shuddered as he felt his end touch her throat. She’d withdraw now and descend upon him again he supposed. Sarah looked up into his eyes, quite aware that he’d perched upon his elbows for a better look at what was being done to him. Holding is gaze, she shoved him by the tightening in her throat and took him completely in up to the base, the muscles of her tongue waving along his shaft. Jareth had no option but to close his eyes and let the sensation take him. He had never felt so much want from a woman in his bed before. Sarah’s eyes were lit, eager to see him pleased, and that is precisely how she saw him. When she did pull back, she used her hand in connection with her mouth to stimulate him further. Stroking him with her palm, applying a gently squeezing pressure to the end as she flicked the edge of her tongue to his tip, swirling it around the head and over a particular tender spot on the underside.
Jareth tensed. He was beginning to come very close to his own satisfaction. His hand stilled hers. Confused, Sarah stopped everything she was doing. The king moaned as he thrusted into her mouth in frustration. She welcomed him, starting her tongue in the pattern she had earlier. When Jareth tensed the second time, he covered her shoulders with his hands and pulled her back up toward him. She lay over him for a moment, eyes locked and she could see easily that she had pleased him, but there was more she had yet to do. This distraction of his was keeping her from it. Turning her on to her side he slid the crumpled camisole and her shorts free from her body. Immediately, in a nearly animalistic way his mouth covered her wet opening, his tongue gathering her hot liquid for him to taste. Unquestionably, his mortal was sweet through and through.
Sarah allowed this for only a moment, what woman could have resisted. Then gently cupped his ears and drew him to her. She tasted his mouth, still coated in her flavor and reminded him, “This is supposed to be about you.”
“But pleasing you, pleases me Sarah.” He lowered his mouth to hers once more, initiating a deep kiss, his tongue stroking hers. She gently bit at him which only made him kiss her harder, their teeth scraping together, but neither seemed to care. It no longer mattered how, she only wanted him inside her. If need be she’d start with his tongue. His eagerness to please her was apparent as he sought out her breasts, squeezing them, perhaps a bit hard and pinching the nipples between his fingertips. After a particularly sharp pain in her left nipple, Sarah stilled his hand. Then with a boldness she had not known she was capable of, Sarah guided the king down along the curves of her waist, across her stomach and between her legs. He opened his eyes and stopped kissing her. “Would you like me to touch you like this?” he asked, sliding one finger between her folds and pressing against her opening.
“Only if it pleases you, my king.”
“Surely you have no idea how much,” he admitted as he claimed her lips roughly once more. Sarah had never been particularly aroused by the idea of man stimulating her by hand, but she’d only ever had it done by gittish little boys in high school who were otherwise incapable of pleasing a woman. When Jareth touched her, she felt like an instrument. One he had a great familiarity with and played well. His touch was delicate and slow. First one finger pressing against the sides of her opening, making her so mad with desire that she pressed against him forcing him inside. There, like a violin bow, he drew purposefully in and out of her while his thumb pressed against her clit. A barely noticeable turn of his hand and he slid a second finger in to join the first. Sarah gasped into his mouth and felt him smile back at her, pleased at her satisfaction. His lips found her neck. Sucking at the tender flesh behind her ear and nibbling her lobe until she began to rock against his palm. Then he took her nipple back into his mouth, his tongue flicking at it heard while she cried out in satisfaction. His left hand slipped behind her arching back to hold her close while she rode out the waves of pleasure filling her.
It was as intense an orgasm as she had ever had and undoubtedly she had spilled a fair amount of her arousal into the king’s hand. Before she had time to blush with embarrassment, he’d folded his drenched palm over his hardness and begun to stroke himself with her lubrication. While it may have been less than romantic, it symbolized his total acceptance of her and Sarah found that very arousing. Shoving him back she watched on awhile longer before the familiar need to be filled by him took hold of her once more. Jareth moved his hand away as she straddled him. Easily, he entered her. Sarah closed her eyes and moaned as he did so. She felt his hands tighten on her hips holding her against him. When finally he let her free, she moved in a steady circular motion, using his mid-section as a brace for keeping her balance. A time or two he’d drawn his hips back into the mattress and thrust into her, but Sarah remained focused. She tightened around him and lifted her hips, slamming back against him with such force she knew it meant bruising. What little pain she’d experienced was worth the reaction it evoked from the king. She continued this alternating of slow and torturous withdraws followed by quick and brutal descents until Jareth folded at the waist burying his face between her breasts.
“Sarah,” he moaned against her heart. Eager to satisfy him, her movements grew fast. Release came for her once more as Jareth bit at her throat, his arms spanning the length of her back and using her shoulders to pull her over him as he shoved himself inside her. Cry after indeterminable cry echoed on the stone walls, the sound like music in the kings head. “My love,” he whispered in her ear as he released himself inside her, “I have waited for you for so long.”
Jareth’s body filled with a brief cold that stole his breath. When once more he was able to draw oxygen into his lungs, he knew his soul had left him. It had been given over to this woman in his arms, just as all things he had or would ever acquire, all for her. Sarah kissed him deeply, using her mouth to express her gratitude without words and he returned her kiss with equal fervor. ‘Strange,’ Sarah thought although to say it would have been rude, but she had never felt her partner’s satisfaction before. This time with Jareth, she’d felt this strange rush of heat that seemed to fill her and spread to her furthest reaches. It was an amazing warmth, filled with electrical charge and she couldn’t help wondering if it was all because of what he was. ‘Probably,’ she thought as he continued to hold her against him, ‘but it didn’t matter.’ It wouldn’t have mattered, not even if his touch made her go cold. She knew as her hands filled with his damp blonde hair, pressing his ear to her chest where he could listen to her heart pounding, that his love was as strong as his magic, that it was no longer a question of if she could fall in love with him, but when.
Tenderly he laid her back on the mattress and brushed the stray hair from her eyes. Looking at him she guessed he was as tender a man as he was a lover. The king’s touch was like butterfly wings against her skin, even when his fingers were clad in leather. “If your wondering whether or not I remain disappointed, let me assure you, I am as far from disappointed as any one creature can be.”
Desire had beaten her out. Sarah’s face grew heavy and sad as she realized, this was not how she had intended for things to be. She wanted to get to know him, find out all the things which Turgomon had pointed out she did not know. “What’s your favorite color?”
Jareth laughed a tiny chuckle, afraid to offend her. “Why?”
“It’s important,” she insisted. “What’s your favorite color?”
“Blue,” he said, waiting to see her reaction, hoping she might let him in on the significance of his reply.
“Mine too,” she said, snuggling down beneath his arm. Jareth covered her with the duvet and smiled against her forehead as he kissed her gently there.
Jareth lie awake until he saw the first rays of morning light come streaming into the bedroom. For the first time since she had arrived Underground, Jareth was not lying awake out of frustration, but rather out of a complete satisfaction the likes of which he had never known. Somehow he anticipated the fleeting of his soul would leave him feeling strangely empty, hollow, a fraction of what he once was, but it was all rather contrary. He felt fulfilled, whole, more in love with Sarah. All his thoughts of regret in choosing her or resentment for what she was and how she would eventually leave were gone. There in his arms lie his future, throne or no throne, Sarah would be his forever, whether she knew it or not. She would be the thing that brought him joy, the missing piece to complete he puzzle he was. Let Tiberon have the throne if it was that important to him. Jareth had learned what the meaning in life was and she was soundlessly resting by his side, where he would keep her at all costs.
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