THE CONCLUSION
“I do not know my grace,” Arulan curtsied. “I shall go and search for him myself if your majesty wishes.”
“Quickly,” he snapped. “I haven’t seen Sarah all day and this dalliance only prolongs the separation.”
“Yes your grace.”
Mumbling to himself the king waited. “One minute on my heals and the next spitting at my feet. It makes no sense. Were I the only one to have taken notice I might think myself mad, but since it is not just me, I must be quite the opposite.”
“Only to those who don’t observe you having entire conversations with yourself,” Deverell interrupted Jareth’s one dimensional banter.
The king’s eyes snapped to him quickly. “I know you do the business of this kingdom from my work space, but as long as I am king, you’ll knock before you enter this room.”
“Yes your grace.” Deverell humbled.
“Now seeing as we’re already late getting started...”
“Pardon sire, but it was you who said you would call for me.”
Jareth thought a moment. Perhaps he had told his assistant to wait for him, after all, he had a slew of errands to run and his return time was rather indefinite even if the time for dinner at the castle remained consistent. “I said that.”
“Aye.”
“Well it must have slipped my mind then. My apologies.”
“Thank you your grace.”
Jareth still seemed someone lost in his thoughts, but he pressed on, “In any event, I’m concerned for you Deverell.”
“For me sire?”
“Yes. It has come to the attention of several residence in this castle you have not quite been yourself as of late and it fills me with great concern. Your services here are relied upon heavily and I want you to feel as if you can come to me with whatever causes you turmoil, to notify me if a decision you must make feels to heavy a burden, entrust me to the secrets you keep as I have entrusted you with mine.”
“Aye your majesty,” Deverell replied. “My only concern of present is the schoolhouse sire.”
“And your living conditions are suitable? Nothing here at the castle displeases you or causes you discomfort?”
“Quite the contrary your highness. My accommodations are far grander than I require and your staff is doting. It is far more than one deserves in exchange for serving his lord and master.”
“Is it that?” Jareth asked. “Do I expect too much of you to protect both king and queen once Sarah and I unite? If you prefer, we can find another guard for the queen.” He studied Deverell’s face. “Or we can find another guard for me.”
“No your grace,” the assistant said, perhaps too quickly. “‘Tis a pleasure to serve you both. In my best observation I can only admit that I too have fallen victim to the demands of all to be done here between now and the ceremony. My humblest apologies.” He bowed low to the king.
“Speaking of which.” Deverell’s ears arched with interest. “Keep this to yourself for its brilliance is it’s secrecy, but the lady Sarah and I are to be joined in secret by the Cleric in eleven days. The ceremony is to take place beside the fall at two in the afternoon. I will meet the Cleric midpoint between there and the mountains. I would expect you to bring Sarah and to serve as witness to our vows.”
Deverell grew modest. Even less of what had been happening made sense to him now, but there was no mistaking the childlike excitement on the king’s face nor was there use in denying it’s contagiousness. Jareth stood and extended his hand. “Tell me you accept.”
Clasping his king’s elbow with surety, Deverell replied, “It would be my honor your majesty.”
“Your decision pleases me,” he said bringing his free hand to the fey’s shoulder. “Now then, let’s us join my love for this evening’s meal so that afterward I may inform her.”
***** ***** *****
“By encouraging him to spy on me?” Tiberon shouted in response to the Shadow King’s word of his day at the castle. “How is that supposed to help matters any?”
“Unbunch your breeches a minute. We’ll know when he comes. I’ll have a crystal on him all evening. We’ll make certain you look as innocent as a child of ten. Deverell will wander home, vexed even greater by his finding and while everyone is fusing over arrangements for the king’s elopement or busy worrying over whose not acting quite themselves, we are free to step in and squash them flat with upper hand I’ve managed to get on them.” Leaning back confidently, the king laughed.
“Elopement!” Tiberon exploded.
“Did I not mention that earlier? Yes, it seems the king is growing anxious for the company of his woman and so rather than wait the full nine weeks required by the Triumvirate, they are to join in secret some time between now and then if the Cleric agrees to perform the ceremony.”
“And has he agreed?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t had the time to check in on Jareth with all my other responsibilities,” the king sighed.
The Representative laughed heartily. “Of course. Oh forgive me for not sooner seeing how weighted faking being king is.” Quickly he snatched the Shadow King by the shoulders, pushing him back until he was off balance just enough that he relied on Tiberon’s grasp to keep him from falling. “Your only responsibility is to find out when this elopement is to take place. If it is to be in secret, his numbers will be few and that is when it becomes most lucrative to attack.”
Tiberon let him free, gleefully anticipating his crash to the ground, but the Shadow King sat suspended at an impossible angle of inclination, his eyes wide. The points of the Shadow King’s teeth glistened when he threw open is mouth to let his laughter out and as Tiberon unconsciously stepped back toward the door he memorized the darkness that he saw for the first time, the evil he had underestimated.
***** ***** *****
The perfect way to announce his plan had not yet come to Jareth by the time he and Sarah settled into their bed. They lie there, quietly, the king’s hand absent-mindedly trolling her spine. Sarah’s head buzzing with the events that had transpired between them earlier, the details Jareth had told her to forget, but she could not. Slowly she reached beneath the duvet, under the band of his sleeping pants. “Sarah?” he asked oddly, “What are you doing?”
“I only wish to end your frustration,” she admitted weakly as her eyes averted his. Her lips kissed over his chest, sinking lower, seeming to rush toward his crotch even though he showed no eagerness.
Roughly he grabbed her forearms, “If you are end my frustration than lie here, be still with me, let me feel your heart beat strong against my own.” Jareth wound her in his arms and pressed tightly to her back. Sarah felt shamed and remained stiff in his hold where she would normal find herself more fluid, more ready to conform to this shape and languid in his arms. Instead she was anxious, her feet grinding into the sheets as if the needed to run. The king’s tender hand caressed her hair. “If sleep is not to come for either of us, then come and walk with me.”
“Walk, at this hour?”
“It is the perfect hour,” he replied as she turned to face him. He parted the curtain behind the bed. “Look, the moon is full. Our path will be well lit and all the kingdom is asleep. We shall be the only two souls alive in the realm. Slip on a coat and your shoes and join me.”
Even the idea made her smile as Sarah left the warmth of bed for the cold marble floor and complied with the wishes of her king.
***** ***** *****
Inside Tiberon’s house, Deverell could see no signs of ill will toward the king. The Representative sat in a wingback chair by the fireplace having a glass of brandy. Watching long enough for him to be visited by one of his maids, Deverell heard him remark that perhaps he would go to visit Gandor for a few days. “I so miss the snow,” Tiberon sighed. “There is much to be offered with the kingdom on the mend. Perhaps taking advantage of it might ease my loss.” When she left, he rose to face a painting of his Darien. “Your death is perhaps the most valuable lesson I have learned father. Hatred makes a heart grow cold and I would much rather feel the cold on the outside of me.” He rose a glass to toast the painting.
If he hadn’t kept word of his mission to himself, the king’s assistant would have sworn Tiberon had put on the show for him, but not even Jareth knew he had left the castle. Satisfied he turned to leave. ‘There must be someone in the castle,’ he thought, ‘with less than honorable intentions for the king.’
When the Shadow King’s crystal told him Deverell was well away from their home, he spread word to Tiberon, who quickly poured himself another brandy. “Gah,” he moaned, “must one really appear that boring and well behaved to seem honest?”
“If one wants the kind of diversion you want, one must make every sacrifice,” the king reminded him. “Although you are boring naturally, I sympathize with the difficulty of being well behaved.” Tiberon’s eyes narrowed at him, while the Shadow King hunted Jareth in the crystal. The foggy images cleared to reveal his location. “Undo all these fractions of an hour behaving as a gentlemen have done for you. I have responsibilities to tend to.”
Tiberon got the distinct impression the Shadow King had just taken charge of his plot. Firing the glass he was drinking from into the flames seemed to confirm it was not a favorable impression.
***** ***** *****
By the falls Jareth stood in the moonlight, his would be bride in his arms before him. For a minute they did nothing more than watch the stars winking at them from the water which mirrored the black of the night sky. Lowering his lips to Sarah’s ear, Jareth began, “This has been a spot of fabulous magic for us. Every time we are here I feel myself grow closer and closer to you.”
“Me too,” Sarah beamed. “From the first time you showed me this place right up to this very minute.”
“Then I have chosen a fit location for our elopement?”
“Elopement?” Sarah turned to face him shocked, “He agreed, the Cleric agreed.”
“He did,” Jareth told her.
Sarah clung to the king, “In all that has gone on today I forgot to even ask. He will marry us?” she asked once more just to be certain.
Jareth shook his head, “If it is still what you desire, then ten days from tomorrow at two in the afternoon, I will meet you here and make you my wife.”
“There is only one flaw in that plan,” she told him. As Jareth eyed her anxiously, she admitted, “Ten days is far too long.” The kiss they shared was tender, meant to be a bind to their words, a promise to meet here at the set time, a promise to each other. Sarah shivered. “The night air is chilling. Take me home where I can lie in the warmth of my to be husband’s embrace.”
“As you wish,” Jareth told her before sending them back.
From behind the rocks the Shadow King emerged, “Ten days is far too long,” he mocked. “Indeed. I can hardly wait.”
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