PART TWO
“Made you yer own office, did he?” the dwarf noted as he entered.
“Come in,” Sarah greeted him, moving to sit with him nearer to the fireplace.
Hoggle worked his way into one of the seats, “Tryin’ to make up for the fact you was asleep through Christmas?”
The thought had not occurred to her until now. The year was coming to its end, she certainly had no recollection of having celebrated the holiday. “I slept through Christmas,” she repeated. “Sounds like the title of an incredibly sad work of nonfiction, doesn’t it?”
“Suppose it does.” His small hands thrust the papers at her, “Here you are. All you asked me and Mason for. Don’t know what your planning to do but I made you a promise and I keeps my promises.”
“Are you upset with me?” she asked at his shortness.
“Am not,” he huffed. “Just don’t think you oughtta be doin’ all this. Jumpin’ at their beck and call, when yer not even subject to their laws. Riskin’ everythin’ by goin’ Aboveground. Ain’t right is all.”
Eyeing him she surmised his objections were somewhat more than general. “Hoggle are you afraid I won’t come back if I go Aboveground?”
“Ain’t afraid of nothin’,” the dwarf denied, avoiding her critical stare. Reaching for him she promised, “Hoggle, I’m going Aboveground to ensure when I do become a member of this community, my citizenship is permanent. I could never leave you, no more than I could leave Jareth. I love you Hoggle.”
“No need to go butterin’ me up,” he hesitated, hopping down out of the chair and heading to the door. “But, I’m glad to hear you say so,” the dwarf admitted quickly before he left. Outside in the hall he wiped away a stray tear or two before exiting the castle.
When he was gone, Sarah read what he had written in the survey she provided him. Under the heading, What is the worst thing about living in the Underground?, her small friend had painstakingly scribed as neatly as his fat fingers could, the following reply:
The worst thing ’bout livin’ in the Underground is yer always getting called by terrible names; horrible, stupid, coward, repulsive little scab, just cause you ain’t pretty lookin’ like fairies is. Ain’t right neither, cause all them pretty things everyone’s fusing over are mean and nasty and some of the goblins and less attractive things gets a bad reputation. Maybe, if we was, I dunno, if folks thought we wasn’t so repulsive, horrible and stupid, if they knew we was more than trolls what steals their children in the middle of the night kind of cowards, maybe then mortals wouldn’t hates us so much. Then my little girl could grow up somes place where individuals were accepted for who they was and not what they was.
Tears filled her eyes as she recalled, it had been her to call him a coward. In hindsight, she had been one of those people, one of the ones who saw the pretty fairies as good and the disgusting goblins as bad, but the time she spent with them, proved them to be more and allowed her to see from his side now. As she thought about the friendship she had found here, Sarah began to think what a pioneering relationship it was indeed. Mortal and dwarf, human and mythical, and yet they shared in a bond, both frowned upon by those in the know, stuck in their more primitive ways, those who hated what she was. There were few who had come to know her and crossed the gap between what they knew to what they felt, but in his message Sarah saw a greater task. She saw her plan to change the Underground. If she were able to change the mortals’ minds about what the mythicals were and vice versa, that would be a change Underground. One of enough significance, one for good, one even the Triumvirate couldn’t deny.
Quill in hand, Sarah worked furiously to complete the scroll the Triumvirate had sent. Her idea, to change Jareth from a king who stole carelessly wished away children in the night to a fey who rescued mistreated and neglected children. A simple matter of reprogramming the circumstances by which a child was sent Underground. Once the children were there, rather than having the mortals run the Labyrinth to get them back, they would be housed until such time as suitable parents wished for a child they could not have. Of course there would be wrinkles to iron out, but that would come in time. For now, she had devised an indisputable plan which would so greatly improve mortal/mythical relations, the Gavel himself couldn’t refuse giving it a try. Sarah rolled the scroll back up and left her office to find Jareth. She found him with Deverell, inspecting the luggage which had been handcrafted for their trip.
“Jareth,” she called swinging open his office door. “Oh,” she said when she realized she had interrupted them, “I’m sorry. This can wait. The two of you finish up.”
The king’s voice halted her hasty get away, “Sarah, what have you got there?”
Doing her best to hide the scroll behind her back, she lied, “Nothing. Really, it can wait.”
“Come milady, have a look at what’s been made for your trip,” Deverell suggested.
Smoothing her hand over the soft, nearly seamless leather, Sarah found herself impressed with the craftsmanship. “Luggage?” she half asked.
“Aye, it would be terribly obvious if you were to arrive with some great trunk or weathered satchel bag.” Deverell explained, “I’ve had a leather man craft these to fit a description his majesty had given me.”
Looking up at Jareth, Sarah’s eyes wrinkled in confusion, “Why not just rely on our magic?”
“Because, love, they’ll not let us have our magic Aboveground. We’ll have to blend in as much as possible, as not only may our normal ways and appearances draw unwanted attention, but it stands only to complicate our achieving your parents’ approval.”
“Your appearance?” she asked. “You mean your going to become Jeremy again?”
“I had rather thought shorter hair and a nice suit would please your parents.”
“Please my parents I don’t give a shit what pleases my parents ” The fine tongue she had developed while living Underground seemed to disappear when she was angry. Coming close to him, her arms rested on his chest, her fingers twirling the ends of his hair. “I love the fey you are, Jareth. Just like this,” she added steering her hands over his elegant garments. “I bring my parents a king for their approval. What mother doesn’t want their daughter to be queen? What father has not always thought his child a princess?”
Despite the valid point she made, “But Sarah, to be Aboveground for so many days, and without magic, it will be too difficult to maneuver about like this.” He saw disappointment in her eyes when she looked at him. “A spell then, I shall see about a spell, one which I could have placed, just before we leave, so regardless of how I appear to the other mortals, you and your parents shall always see me as I appear now. Will this compromise please you?”
Sarah’s lips met his in approval. Breaking the kiss, she handed him the scroll she had written, “Does this compromise please you?”
As Jareth read the scroll, Deverell watched in awe of the way his majesty managed the girl and amazed at how she managed herself. It was as if this world was always meant for her and her being mortal had been some mistake, a flaw in her design, a disease she battled to defeat. Not so far from truth, his thoughts, for Sarah returning home and living a mortal life was something which could never happen, not after all she had known in this realm. To lose now, to return Underground without her parents’ consents, to fail to prove to the Triumvirate her worth, would be to sentence her to mortal death. Though Deverell had never had a king to serve, he found himself proud to serve Jareth and he thought he would find that same pride serving Sarah as queen. When Jareth finished with the scroll, he passed the parchment to his assistant, “Here Deverell, read the new law of the Underground. Read the law my queen has written.” No sooner had the parchment left his fingers, did Sarah find herself secure in his grip and flying above his smile. “You, you have found words to describe the kind of man I have always wanted to be.” He brought her to the ground and held her close against him, “No more being looked at as something evil, something fearsome. At last, I could make children’s lives better. I would be a Robin Hood among the fey and I would owe it all to you.”
“And give up being the arrogant intimidator you’ve worked so hard to become?” Sarah asked.
“A reputation I’ve tried to embrace and outrun,” he admitted sadly. “Especially these last fifteen years while all I’ve been able to think is, had I been a different fey then, perhaps the spirited young girl I had fallen in love with wouldn’t have been so eager to flee my company.”
With remorse for her quick query, Sarah nuzzled his neck with her forehead, “Even if you had been as perfect emotionally as you were physically, I was still too young to comprehend true love. Even now I’m only beginning to learn what it can be when it exists between two people who respect one another.” Slowly their lips joined having sought the other out by some unseen magnetism which drew them out from hiding. His lips folded over her bottom lip as he tried to make their contact last.
Clearing his throat, the king’s assistant gave his opinion of the scroll. “I could do some research on your theory while you are away, miss, if you’d like. Explore the feasibility of reprogramming the commands and so forth. It would be my pleasure.”
“I think that would be fine. Sarah, is this offer suitable to you.” She agreed.
Deverell rolled the scroll into his palm, “May I keep this?”
“Indeed,” she consented.
Jareth’s thumb and forefinger pinched Sarah’s chin, “And now love I’m afraid we need to prepare for our trip.”
“We’re leaving tonight?”
“No, but once we’ve had dinner there are other things we need to tend to.” His hand suggestively rubbed her bottom where Deverell wouldn’t see.
***** ***** *****
In all her mornings Underground, Sarah had found herself awoken by the sun, sometimes sleeping through daybreak, at times sleeping away entire days without even realizing it. Staring out the window, she couldn’t help but notice how black night was in this place. So unlike New York, where the lights barely dimmed when evening gave way to the wee hours of the night, the Underground had no neon signs, no street lights, nothing but fire fairies running about here or there and the milky white moon to enhance the atmosphere. Jareth’s arm hung over her waist, the heat of his body a sharp contrast to the void she seemed hypnotized by, so sharp in fact, she drew in a fast breath. Suddenly she felt as if there were a weight on her chest, a heaviness which made it hard to breath. Repeatedly Sarah filled her lungs in a vain attempt to throw free the unseen encumbrance.
Her fingers interlaced with the king’s as tears drizzled from her eyes. His bare fingers, his naked hands, the same ones which had caressed her in their love making only hours earlier, stimulating her skin while he aroused her senses and yet, when she imagined going home, not even those hands could calm her quickened pulse. Sarah thought about leaving the bed and going to see what time it was, but it didn’t matter much if day break was minutes or hours away, it was coming with an inevitability which rattled her. Needless to say, she was not looking forward to going Aboveground, to being forced into seeing Karen and her mother. She’d been through all this with her parents before, trying to convince them the Underground and its inhabitants were something more than a clever story created by a frustrated little girl who wished nothing more in the world than to see her parents back together.
Jareth sighed in his sleep, a burst of warm air coating Sarah’s neck and cutting short her feelings of dread. Spinning in his arms, she turned to face him. He was attractive when he was awake, but when he slept he was resplendent. There was a peace easing all the muscles in his face, making his eyelids seem like a veil which fell lightly to hide his eyes and could have been swept away with the easiest breeze. His lips rested still, one a top the other, curled in a crooked smile. Her fingers danced playful at his pale chest and rounded shoulders as she wondered what he was dreaming. ‘How had she resisted him so long?’ she thought as she studied him. ‘More importantly why?” Coming Underground would have freed her from years of people who disregarded her feelings when they could be bothered to consider her at all. Saved her from meeting Christian, changed her in ways she couldn’t even imagine. ‘Could have, would have, should have,’ she told herself as she tossed away her regrets. They had each other now. Her hands could touch him, her eyes see him and as Sarah lowered her lips to his, pressing hard against them, forcing him out of his slumber, she tasted him and smelled the magic which perpetually surrounded him. Jareth was finally hers and she was finally of mind to appreciate him. She had faced the Triumvirate, fallen prey to Tiberon and felt Darien’s cold blade, but returning home was a different kind of terror, one she wasn’t sure she could survive, but with her king by her side, Sarah knew she could try.
“Sarah,” Jareth said as he relinquished his hold on sleep, “you’re shaking. Are you cold?” Without waiting for a response, he pulled the duvet tighter around her and drew her into his arms.
“I’m not cold,” she told him.
“You’re crying,” he noticed as she lay her face against his chest.
“So I am,” she agreed, only now becoming aware of the fact herself. “I suppose I’m just overwhelmed at the idea of telling my father tomorrow that I intend to become a queen, your queen.”
“I’m sorry this authorization is a requirement Sarah, but you must understand...”
Her finger fell over his lips, hushing him. The king puckered his lips and kissed her tender skin. “Whatever they ask of me, I will do,” she confessed. “Whatever I must do to stay with you.”
Jareth kissed her reassuringly, as if he could somehow extract her fears as he did so. The fear in her heart would be drown by his love, the same way her body would soon drown in his passion. Sarah could feel the heat of him against her as her own wetness began to saturate her from within. It was the same each time he took her, all thoughts of dread and failure vanished. Nothing seemed right but their being together and even fate, cruel as it could sometimes be, wouldn’t take that away. It wouldn’t be fair.
***** ***** *****
Their love making had been chaotic, as Jareth pushed his body to the limit in an attempt to make the night last, to delay the morning his mortal feared so much. Sarah clung to him, struggling to keep up with his frantic pace as eager as he was to outrun their obligations but at the same time he took her to heights she feared she would never return from. One might imagine then, the impact they shared when the sun had the audacity to rise anyway.
“Would you like breakfast before we go?” he asked the still half sleeping woman in his arms.
Sarah ground at her eyes with her small fists, “No,” she grumbled. “As it is my stomach’s tied in knots. I’d hate to think of how I might feel if I tried feeding it.”
“At least a glass of milk or juice,” Arulan said as she barged in with their trays. “Have something.”
“Really,” she tried politely. “I can’t the stand the thought of anything in my stomach right now. Perhaps when we get Aboveground I’ll get some coffee.” It had been a long time since she’d tasted what had once been a meal all in itself for her.
The elf wore a look of worry in her eyes, one which grew even deeper when Jareth refused his meal as well. “I think we’re rather eager to get going,” he explained. “Would you be so kind as to have our things assembled in the main hall?”
“Already done,” the elf told him. “I’m to notify the others before you leave. They would like to see you off.” Arulan looked quickly from Jareth to Sarah and back again, hurriedly she left the room. Something in the way they both looked at her told Arulan they would be leaving immediately.
Sarah left the bed and quickly chose a dress from her wardrobe while Jareth used his magic to dress himself appropriately. “Suppose I won’t be doing that much the next few days,” he chided.
Sarah smiled. The list of things he was willing to give up for her seemed to grow exponentially at every turn. “Suppose not,” she agreed. It would be an adventure of sorts, watching him without his magic. The night he followed her to her apartment, the night their lips had first joined, he had been without his magic then. As Jareth waited for her to join him so as they may make their rounds with the rest of the staff before they left, Sarah relived the night he’d come for her.
She had just gotten the part of Eponine. He was masquerading as Jeremy Underwood. All these months later, Sarah could laugh at the sheer idiocy of not realizing it was him based on that alone. She was glad he had chosen to remain himself, at least to her and, at her request, Sarah’s parents. Jeremy was dashing in his own right, but taming those feral locks and drabbing into something Armani, made him common to her then. Common until his lips covered hers and his hands begun a manipulation of her body so savvy she’d have needed a piece of the sky to crash upon her head before she’d realized she’d been seduced. Jeremy melted away all the same as she had melted for him. When she thought of how easily she let him have his way, it made her tingle. “Don’t forget the spell Jareth,” Sarah reminded him.
“Indeed,” he said making a sweeping motion over his body. Nothing changed when she looked at him, but in his reflection she didn’t see Jareth King of the Goblins, she saw that hateful mortal replica which seemed to diminish him. The mirror showed a hand reaching for her, “Shall we?” that mortal face inquired.
Before responding, Sarah looked back to the finely decorated eyes of the king, “Indeed,” she smiled.
***** ***** *****
Circled around the luggage Deverell took it upon himself to have made, they stood awaiting their king and his mortal. No one was happy they were being made to leave, but since Jareth and Sarah weren’t happy about it themselves little criticism could be made by the others in the castle. Jareth shook the hands offered to him and Sarah embraced them one by one. When Dalkeil’s turn came to take her into his arms, he whispered almost silently into her hair, “I will be proud to serve you as my queen.” She squeezed him tighter after that.
At nearly the same moment, Arulan was curtsied before Jareth, who took her by the hand and then folded his arms about her. He could feel her tears on his neck, “No matter whose obligation it is to give you consent know that I think of her as my daughter nearly as much as I think of you as my son.” His glove smoothed her coiffed blonde hair.
“We appreciate the send off,” he announced when he saw Sarah’s quaking lip. “I think I speak for both of us when I say we respect what the Triumvirate is making us do because it is tradition, but your approval of our union is a far cry more meaningful than the consent of persons we’ve long since learned to live without.” Sarah took his arm and nodded as if to confirm she agreed with what had been said. With the arms not joined together, they each hoisted a suitcase from the cold marble floor. “We shall be back before you’ve time to miss us,” Jareth said before curving his hand and causing them to vanish.
“Impossible,” Arulan cried as she leaned into Deverell’s shoulder and let her tears begin to fall.
***** ***** *****
What had once seemed a large and expansive front porch, appeared to have shrunk over the years as Sarah stood at the door to her childhood home, her arm still threaded through the king’s. Instantly she sank back in time, becoming once more the same unsure teenager she had been the last time they were both in this house together. Jareth could see her almost visibly regressing into adolescence. He squeezed her hand, whispering to her, “You are a strong confident woman who has been to and survived battle Sarah, this is little challenge by comparison.”
“Could you remind me of that every few seconds until this is over with?” she asked as his pointer finger reached for the doorbell. His jagged teeth flashed at her from behind his wicked smile and suddenly she was sure she was this woman he spoke of.
Karen came to the door, her half inch pearls hanging two inches below the scoop neckline of her pink dress, her hair meticulously pinned to her head. “Yes, can I help you?” she inquired looking primarily at the king, Sarah, much as she had the years they shared the house, escaped her radar.
“Karen,” she said to her step-mother in a firm tone forcing her to look away from Jareth. “Is my father home?”
“Sarah?” the woman asked, her mouth agape. “I...I didn’t even recognize you,” she tried to rationalize her overlooking the girl. “You’re wearing a dress, with no jeans underneath and you’re hair, it’s so...”
“Is my father home?” In her teen years, this woman at the door, in her just so clothes, with her just so expectations of everyone around her had intimidated her, angered her, but at thirty, she disgusted her. As much as magic had allowed her to continue seeing Jareth as he was, maturity had allowed her to do the same with Karen.
Stepping aside, the lady of the house instructed them, “Well, don’t just stand there come inside.”
Jareth’s gloved hand met the small of his love’s back and gently guided her through the door. Karen watched him closely as he crossed the threshold to her home. “Robert,” she called up the stairs.
“What is it?” he called back, in a hasty manner Sarah was not accustom to hearing when her father was talking with his wife.
Smirking as if his tone had no effect on her and in a saccharin sweet voice, she replied, “It’s your daughter, darling, and she’s brought one of her little theatrical friends with her.”
“Madame,” Jareth addressed his hostess, “I’m neither little nor theatrical, I assure you.” Though she was certain he had meant little as a reference to his age, Sarah couldn’t resist snickering at what he’d said.
“Sarah ” Robert shouted from upstairs. Halfway down the flight, he bent to see her standing there, Sarah,” he repeated.
“Hello, daddy,” Sarah replied in a softer more gentle voice than she had used with Karen.
Taking the remaining steps two at a time, he ran to her, sweeping her up in his arms, ignorant to the fact a king stood in his living room. “Sweetie, what are you doing here? With a suitcase? You were going to England last I heard. Not that I’m not happy to see you, I just wasn’t expecting to...look at you, such a beautiful daughter, I have.”
Sarah wanted to attack him just as she had Karen, but instead she found herself choking back tears, half because he had called her beautiful and the other half because it had taken him until now to notice. “Daddy, I never went to England.”
“I’m not surprised,” Karen sighed heavily. “You probably met this fool and went touring with him the same way your mother did.”
“I have been patient with you,” Jareth said, his cold mismatched eyes narrowing on the woman, “but I’m afraid, should you find yourself unable to allow this woman to speak to her father without interrupting, I may lose that patience.” Karen’s mouth hung open, her eyes wide with fear. “After all, it is a rude thing to cast aspersions upon one’s character, is it not?” His eyebrow rose, his stiff chin telling Karen her own character was not without flaw.
“Why not have a seat then,” she said shakily, leading them into the living room, eager to leave the reach of the king.
“Wonderful idea,” Robert beamed. “Sarah and…I’m sorry, I don’t believe I heard your name.”
“This is Jareth, daddy.” Sarah waited for Karen to comment again, but she did not.
Extending his palm, the king shook Robert’s hand, “Pleasure to make your acquaintance Mr. Williams.”
“Call me Bob,” he suggested. “Well why don’t you and Sarah join me in the living room and my wife will bring us some tea.” Karen looked at him coldly and then noticing Jareth’s keen observation of her and left to make the tea. Sarah sat on a colonial blue loveseat with her father, they were turned in facing one another, their eyes speaking more than they themselves could. Behind her, Jareth sat quietly in a cream colored wing back chair, accented by a throw with hints of the same colonial blue as the loveseat running through it. “I still can’t believe you’re here.”
Somberly Sarah reminded him, “You haven’t so much as phoned me in over a year.”
Robert’s head hung, his chin dug into his chest, knowing she was right, worse still knowing he was wrong to have done it. “I won’t make excuses. You know as well as I do why that is and I’ve come to realize recently how wrong it was. She’s done the same with Toby. When he can be bothered to stay home he hardly speaks to us and Karen’s content with that.”
“It’s not my place to tell you how to behave with your wife daddy, but I’m your daughter and you had an obligation to me.”
“And I failed,” he moped.
“Failed is a harsh term, let’s just agree you have not succeed as I may have hoped.”
“You seem none the worse for wear,” he tried to smile as he chucked the underside of her chin. When Sarah’s face remained downtrodden he added, “Physically anyway. If it helps, I am sorry I wasn’t a better father when it mattered most and I would like to try and be a better father now, if you’ll let me.”
“I’m glad to hear you say that,” Sarah told him, “because I need a father now. You see,” Sarah glanced up as Karen reentered the room with a tray of iced teas, “I’d like to get married and I need your consent.”
“Married ” Robert exclaimed. “Karen, did you hear that? My little girl wants to get married and she wants her old man’s blessing. Of course Sarah. You and Christian have waited long enough. When were you thinking? Fall? Or maybe next spring? We can start planning right away.”
“Technically,” Jareth interrupted, “it won’t be a marriage. It will be a union ceremony, but I suppose it’s somewhat equivalent to marriage.”
“One of those flowery out in the open nonreligious ceremonies? Whatever you want darling, whatever you want.” Her father was positively aglow.
“Not to Christian,” Sarah said.
“What?” her father asked.
“And I don’t want to wait until spring. This ceremony would take place, rather soon.”
Karen’s hands fell to her hips, “Good Lord Robert she’s pregnant. You’ve gone and gotten yourself in trouble. It’s probably his.” She remembered the suitcases in the hall, “And if you think you can just move back in here, you’ve got another think coming. I’ve got Toby to worry over.”
Sarah stood, “And if you worried over him half as much as you proclaim to he wouldn’t be the conniving womanizer he is.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Karen practically growled.
“It’s not supposed to mean anything. It means there’s not a person in your life you know the slightest bit about. Not daddy, not Toby, certainly not me. Most times I wonder if you even know who you are or if you’re just so set in this picture perfect image of what you’re supposed to be, you’re too afraid to trying being who you really are.” She’d waited years to say that.
“Robert, are you going to allow her to talk to me that way?”
“Sarah sit down.” She sat. “Are you pregnant?”
“No daddy.”
“Do you want to come home, sweetie?”
Before she answered Sarah glowered at Karen, “No daddy.”
“If I may,” Jareth interjected, appalled at the way they were treating her, “It is I who wishes to be united with your daughter. We’ve not come to ask anything of you but your consent.”
“I don’t even know this man Sarah,” Robert went on as if Jareth hadn’t addressed him at all. “Where did you meet? How long have you known one another? Why do you want to marry him?”
“This is the Goblin King,” she said, her face turned in a smile for the first time since they’d arrived Aboveground.
“Not this again,” Karen said.
“Honey, didn’t we talk through all of this when you were a young lady. The Goblin King is a figment of your imagination. Someone you conjured up because you were unhappy your mother had gone and I had remarried. A fantasy you could escape to when you were dissatisfied with reality.
“I’m neither a figment nor a fantasy,” Jareth protested. “I am tangible and very real.” From the interior pocket of his frock coat he withdrew his birth papers.
Robert took what he offered and fanned his eyes over it. “Born to the current king and queen, Ian the mortal and Leanan Sidhe…this male child to be called Jareth…all the qualifications to take the throne upon his 75th birthday. And just how old would you have me believe you are?”
“258, next season,” Jareth responded matter of factly. Karen burst into laughter.
“Sarah, would you honestly have me believe this is a 257 year old man, whose king of some Underground and wishes to marry you and make you what? Queen?”
“Exactly.”
“If you don’t want anything further to do with me I can force myself to accept that Sarah, but coming in here with some stranger in costume, telling me you’re leaving for some fabled destination rather than just saying so is elaborate, even for you.”
“Not to mention childish,” Karen added.
“But it’s true,” Sarah tried to explain. “I will be Goblin Queen, we will live in the Underground and we are going to be united.”
“Sarah,” Robert’s head shook.
“Do something?” she pleaded with Jareth. “Show them one of your crystals.”
“I can’t love, no magic Aboveground, remember?”
“Did you hear that Robert? He’s left his magic at home ” Karen cackled.
Jareth faced her nose to nose, “In my world, women as condescending as yourself often meet vicious and untimely deaths.” Maeve being the first to come to mind.
“I won’t allow you to come into my home and threaten my wife,” Robert told him.
“I wasn’t threatening anyone ”“Yes, you were,” Karen balled and the three began a screaming match that even Sarah had trouble following.
“Stop it ” Sarah cried above the ruckus. The trio quieted down and faced her. Calmly she walked to the buffet table and scrawled down the name and number of the hotel they were going to stay at. Then she went to the hall and retrieved the scroll from her suitcase. When she returned she handed them both to her father. “Daddy, I’m going to be with Jareth. All I want from you is your consent. If you love me and you want me to be happy, you’ll sign this, regardless of how valid you find my claims. When you have, phone me at this number and I’ll come pick the document up.”
Robert read the scroll. “This is really too much Sarah. It says I authorize you to unite with the king and that I willfully surrender my parental rights, deny all claim to you and give my express consent for you to be christened a citizen of the Underground.” He turned on the king, “What kind of freak are you? What have you done to my daughter?” Protectively he threw his arms about her, “What lies have you told her?”
“None worse than you and your wife have done,” he retaliated.
“Jareth you’re not helping,” Sarah moaned. “We’re leaving,” she announced as she struggled free from her father’s hold. Karen’s face lit with a satisfied smile.
Robert moved for the door blocking their leave. “You’re not going anywhere with this imposter You’ll stay here, in your room, where you belong.”
“Robert? ” Karen cried.
“Daddy? ” Sarah joined her.
“Not another word,” her father said showing backbone for the first time in as long as she could remember. “If you want me to so much as consider this charade of yours, you’ll stay here until I can get my arms around this more.”
“Robert, are you mad?” Karen asked.
“Probably, or perhaps I’m only finally becoming sane. Look Karen, look at the seal on the bottom of these scrolls. Feel this paper, it’s quality parchment, stored in an engraved silver tube. His costume. Sarah’s insistence. It would be an elaborate scheme and why? What would the purpose of it be?”
“She’s sick Robert She’s been sick since she was a child. It’s delusional the way she thinks these things up, Goblin Kings and dwarves and huge hairy beasts. He probably found out about those things and used them to get her to fall in love with him so he could…” she ran out of ideas after that.
“So he could what? What Karen? You see, there’s no reason. No reason why only summations. She’s not asking us for anything, neither is he. I’m asking you for some time to put it together, a couple of days.”
“Do what you want Robert. Do what she wants, as you always have, but I don’t need a few days.” She grabbed the scroll from her husband’s hand and flattened it on the hall table. Picking up a pen she signed just above where her name had been printed. “There. As far as I’m concerned having her gone, no right to her, no responsibility for her, is a blessing.” That being said, she ran up the stairs to the room they shared and slammed the door behind her.
“Come with me,” Robert told them. “I’ll show you to your rooms.”
“Room daddy. Just take us to my old room. I’m old enough to have a boy in there now,” Sarah told him as she followed him up the stairs and down the once familiar hallway.
Once inside, Robert excused himself, most likely to go and coddle Karen. “Not quite the way I remember it,” she said to Jareth. The walls were white, the side curtains gone from the head of the bed. None of the decorations remained. Most of those were done away with when she left for New York. In fact nothing but a floral swag above a Victorian painting on one wall remained, even that was not hers. A sewing machine took up the space next to where her dresser once sat and in the open space before the closet, a treadmill.
“Not at all the way I remember it,” Jareth agreed.
Sarah sat on her old bed. “If anything I thought we’d be fighting Karen to sign that thing,” she said.
“Looks as if just the opposite stands true,” he pointed out as he sat next to her, his arm around her shoulders. “So what will we do? How will we prove to your father I am who I say I am?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “It’s something just to think he’s open minded enough to wonder why we would make up such a lie, it’s another thing entirely to think he would believe us, but maybe we don’t need him to believe us. Maybe all we need is for him to not be able to think of a reason we’d lie enough to sign the scroll. So don’t go giving him any reasons,” she told him.
“Me?” he asked in feigned innocence.
“Yes you,” she chastised. “Oh Jareth, we’ve got one signature, only three more to go.”
“You say that as casually as I throw around forever,” he chided. Something about being together with her on the bed he’d watched her in so many times before aroused him. Leaning in he kissed her. Her first instinct was to shy away. She was, after all, in her parents’ home, but then she thought of him all those years ago, standing in the doorway of her parents’ rooms. Old fantasies she’d had in her later teens flooded her memory. Offering him her dreams, letting him have her in the most basic sense, there in her parents’ bed. Those nights when longing grew too much and fantasy too strong when she was still too young and too afraid of sex, her only release a few moments of self exploration beneath the covers of the bed she shared with him now. She’d learned then to stifle her moans. Suddenly she was eager to utilize the talent she’s long since abandoned. Sarah returned his kiss, deepening it, pressing against him until his head lay on her pillow. “They’ll be arguing for hours,” she said as she left him to lock the door. “Do you think you can manage to keep quiet?” she asked as she approached him once more, lifting her dress as she did so.
“Me?” he asked as if to insinuate he was not the one with the pension for making loud noises. Sarah lips stilled his as she undid his shirt.
“I believe I just asked you to keep quiet,” she reiterated.
“Yes your majesty,” he whispered before giving into her.
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