***** ***** *****
Sarah stretched as morning’s first rays fell onto her pillow. When her arms encountered no resistance from Jareth’s side of the bed, she sat up quickly and rubbed at her eyes. He wasn’t in the room. Not in the bath either. “Well,” Sarah sighed looking at her hands, “let’s see what these things can do now that I’m fey.” As she’d seen the king do a hundred or more times she snapped her fingers and found herself smack dab in the middle of the kitchen. Perhaps her stomach had a bit more to say about where she wound up than she thought.
Arulan rushed to her side tossing her protective arms around Sarah. “Heavens me, you should have a robe!”
Until then Sarah hadn’t thought about the fact she’d been wearing only her chemise. “Oh my,” she quickly turned her wrist expecting to dress herself, but rather made it so Arulan too was now glad in nothing more than her night wear.
“What say we do this the old fashioned way?” Arulan suggested as they rushed up the stairs like giddy school girls, both giggling at their mishap.
***** ***** *****
More appropriately attired the ladies re-entered the kitchen and Arulan made Sarah a cup of tea. Not long after, Jareth came in looking distracted and sleep deprived. “Good morning,” the elf said with a curtsey. The king only grumbled.
“Good morning,” Sarah repeated as he sat next to her. He leaned in so she could plant a kiss upon his cheek and then grumbled some more.
When Arulan set his tea before him he groaned. When she brought his breakfast, he pushed it away. When they spoke to him he grunted. When they didn’t speak to him he sighed. Having had rather enough of his moping, Sarah asked flatly, “Is something wrong?”
“Only everything,” he gloomed, speaking audibly for the first time.
“How can you say such a thing?” Arulan wondered. “Sarah’s been christened, you’ll be having your wedding soon. I would think you would be more jovial at least conscious.”
“I have to go back to the Triumvirate,” he said flatly, pushing his tea away now too. The thought of anything hitting his stomach made him cringe.
“For what?” the woman asked in unison.
Jareth straightened up in his chair, “I have to appoint someone to take Tiberon’s place as Representative before they will agree to schedule his trial and his trial must happen before we can be married.”
“The engagement period ends in a few more weeks,” Sarah replied.
“The engagement period is irrelevant if the trial has not come and gone by its originally scheduled end.” Jareth slumped onto the palm.
Sarah’s head switched her eyes flicking on Arulan and back to Jareth, her mouth slightly agape. “You’re kidding me.” One delicate finger counted on those of her free hand as she named off the things she found unbelievable. “He drugs me. He has the Shadow King infiltrate the castle and wreck havoc on the kingdom.” Jareth smiled as tiny orbs fell from her palm with each valid point. “He tries to kill you, twice. He succeeds in having your first man and your horse murdered. The Supreme One knows what else he’s done or plotted to do or plots yet to do and we’re still at his mercy!” Noticing the way Jareth looked at her, eyes glittering, smile wide she added. “What are you so happy about? This is outrageous.”
Taking her hands up in his, Jareth used his magic to collect the crystals she’d let loose. “If my face showed happiness my love, ‘twas only for seeing the effect of my world upon you.”
Lifting one of the crystals, Sarah turned it this way and that. “Did I..?”
“You did,” he confirmed. “I should teach you a bit about the magics you have now, but first I must be sure the candidate I’ve chosen will be an acceptable one for the Triumvirate. Arulan, have Deverell in my office in five minutes.” The elf jumped to her feet and immediate went in search of him. “The events of our marriage are beyond our control, beyond Tiberon’s control. The Triumvirate is angry we tried to wed against their instruction, any delay we suffer now is mine to take the blame for.” Leaning in, his lips grazed hers. “I promise you, we will be wed on the day you chose when you agreed to the conditions the Triumvirate made of you, not a day later.” Against her forehead Jareth placed a tender kiss. As his hands left her grasp, his magic replaced them with a bushel of roses and he was gone to ensure their happiness.
***** ***** *****
“That’s not what I’m asking,” Jareth shouted as his hands filled with great tufts of his disheveled hair. “I know it isn’t probable. I realize it’s never been down, but is there anything in those books you’ve devoured one by one since you got here that says it is forbidden.”
“Well nothing in those exact terms, but traditionally the candidates have been fey.” Deverell scanned one last page before closing the volume on his lap.
“Traditionally a mortal has never been made queen. Traditionally the goblins aren’t educated.” Jareth passed before the young fey, very little of what’s gone on here for the last few months has been traditional, Deverell.” Jareth grabbed the book from his hand, one paragraph in particular catching his eye.
“But your majesty…”
The king stopped him mid sentence, “He’s the only candidate with the morality to hold the title and once Sarah and I are married, he will be a royal for all intents and purposes. The Triumvirate can’t argue with that.”
“No one who is not fey has ever been a royal,” Deverell persisted.
“My father was not fey.”
“True, but I fail to see where Sarah has anything to do with his being a royal.”
Stopping his steady pace, Jareth wrung his hands. “I suppose I will have a lot of explain to do, quite a lot.”
***** ***** *****
Bothered by Jareth being holed up in his office all day, Sarah planned to head out to the school houses and see what help she could manage to be there. Swinging open the door to the castle she found Hoggle. He was lost in thought, his head craned over his left shoulder as if he had been followed. The dwarf wore a mild but noticeable expression of fear and his fat fist knocked silently against the air between them. “Hoggle,” Sarah exclaimed, stooping down and pulling him into her embrace. Her long hair covered his face and smelled ever so faintly of jasmine.
“Hello Sarah.”
“You sound glum, Hoggle. Is everything all right? It’s not Drema, or,” her hand hurried to cover her open mouth as she meekly inquired, “Sarah. Nothings wrong with them is it?”
“No.”
“Oh, thank goodness,” she sighed, relieved. “Is it Jareth? If he’s giving you problems, I want you to tell me. I know he can be cruel at times, but deep down I think he’s wearing down when it comes to the other species here, and besides, he knows your special to me.”
Squirming, Hoggle attempted to escape her grip as Sarah reached out and squeezed a generous portion of his left cheek between her thumb and forefinger. “I ain’t special. I’m just Hoggle,” he grumbled batting her hand away. Troubled eyes looked at hers, noting the hurt they found there and quickly, the dwarf shuffled toward Jareth’s office leaving Sarah staring into space.
***** ***** *****
Not meaning to let him get away with behaving like a spoiled child, Sarah shook off the jolt of his tantrum and stomped after him calling his name. He paid her no mind, only stayed on his course bound and determined for the large door that would put much needed distance between he and his pursuer. “Hoggle,” Sarah called when he reached his destination, “don’t dare turn that knob. So help me if you turn that knob.” She pointed at him and electricity shot from her fingertip, a thin, weak crackling blue line. Hoggle defiantly reached for the knob regardless. The tiny blast was enough to make him yelp and rub his hands together. “I’m sorry,” Sarah said when she caught up to him. “Let me see,” she insisted reaching for his hands.
“Leave me alone. I got no business with you.”
For a minute she thought she’d cry. “What do you mean you have no business with me?” Her lip quivered as she asked.
Hoggle’s left hand reached for her face, “You know I never wanna hurt you, but I manage to some hows, without even tryin’.”
Deverell opened the door before he could say anymore. “Everything alright out here?”
“It’s fine. Miss magic fingers here just ain’t learned how to use ‘em s’all.”
At the mention of Sarah, Jareth’s ears perked up. Hoggle tried to shut the door behind him, but it was too late. He’d seen his love. “Deverell, have Sarah join us.”
“No,” Hoggle steamed. Jareth set cold eyes on him. “ I won’t discuss nothin’ if she’s here.”
“Pardon?” the king asked.
“You heard me. Nothin’.”
“Give us a moment,” he requested, waiving to Deverell who shut the door. Turning on the dwarf, Jareth continued, “Let me make something perfectly clear to you. What’s discussed in this room will be relayed to Sarah whether it is by your lips or mine. The question is would you rather she hear it from me or from both of us?”
Hoggle thought a moment. Realizing how hurt Sarah would be to think he’d kept any part of the truth from her, he relaxed his posture, took his chair and mumbled, “Let her in.”
Deverell looked to Jareth for confirmation and upon receipt of another wave swung it wide, admitting the impatient woman in the hall. “What the hell is going on around here?”
“Have a seat, Jareth told her softly. She took the seat next to Hoggle. “Sarah,” the king began slowly, “I’m sure you’re wondering why we’re all here, why Deverell and I have been holed up in here all day. You must have a number of questions.”
“Yes,” she interrupted. “Beginning with what in the hell is going on around here? Don’t preface me. Don’t set me up for something. Just tell me what’s happening.”
“As you wish,” he sighed. “Tiberon’s trial is to be delayed until I find a suitable replacement for the Representative. Tiberon’s trial being delayed, delays our wedding, and so I have chosen a candidate to submit to the Triumvirate.” Waiting eyes snapped on the king. “If he were to accept, I would like to offer the position to Hoggle.”
“What?” Sarah said smiling.
Hoggle’s eyes softened, “What?”
“I’d like you to be the Representative for that sector. As it is you live there, you’re familiar with the territory and you care about the creatures, barring fairies, naturally.”
“Naturally,” Hoggle repeated. His short thick fingers smoothed over his face, “But I ain’t fey Jareth. The Triumvirate won’t allow me to hold the title.”
“Actually,” Deverell joined the discussion, “there’s nothing in the rules that says a Representative must be fey.”
“Oh Hoggle, do it!” Sarah’s teary eyes pleaded with him, “There’s no better candidate than you.”
The Goblin King cleared his throat and without making direct eye contact with any of them added, “Besides, you’ll have an advantage no other candidate will have?”
“What might that be?” the dwarf asked. Jareth looked at him then, encouraging him to come forth with what they both knew, but he said nothing. Hoggle only hung his head, prepared for what he was about to hear, prepared to lose the first and most important friend he’d ever made.
“Well what is it? What’s his advantage?” Sarah asked when no one said anything further.
Closing his eyes, Jareth drew in a deep breath, “Sarah, when you and I are joined, Hoggle will become a royal, giving him an advantage over the other candidates as royals are always more favorably looked upon.”
“A royal,” her eyes began to glow. “Hoggle you never told me you were a royal.”
“I ain’t,” he told her hoping she’d get the idea.
“Then how?”
“Drema,” the king explained.
“Drema’s a royal?” Sarah asked. “But what has all this to do with our wedding?”
Taking her hands tenderly into his own, Jareth knelt before his to be bride. “Love, when her niece becomes queen, Drema will become a royal.”
“Her niece?” the relationship seemed foreign to her suddenly. Her mind searched for the connection, randomly tossing about words in an effort to lead to some conclusion. Queen…Niece…Aunt…Mother…Sister… “I don’t understand. I…I just don’t understand.”
Hoggle wiggled in his seat to turn and face her. “Before Drema was my wife, before she was even a dwarf, she was a mortal child, wished away to the Labyrinth.”
“But what does that have to do with me? I’m no one’s niece! My mother was an only child.” Denial clouded her reasoning.
“Sarah, love, your grandparents had another baby., one they hadn’t planned on. When Linda was fourteen, your aunt Karolyn was born.” Sarah shook her head vehemently. Capturing her cheeks in his palms, the king continued, “Listen to me Sarah. Relax and listen to me. The same book you read from so faithfully was once your mother’s plaything. She was left alone with Karolyn one night and she called to me. I came to her window as I came to yours that night and I took the child as she requested.”
“And she fought you? She conquered your Labyrinth?”
“No Sarah, she never left her room. Losing Karolyn meant nothing to her. When the appropriate time had expired, the child was christened.
“You made my aunt a dwarf.”
“It seemed like a good idea, at the time.”
“Sure, great idea! How many more relatives of mine are here? Anyone from dad’s side of the family? A distant cousin perhaps? This is mad!” Shoving away Jareth’s hands she took to her feet and paced the floor. “You mean for me to believe that my mother summoned you with the same book I had and sent her sister away without so much as trying to get her back and now she’s a dwarf, married to a dwarf, with a little dwarf child.”
Hanging his head, Hoggle tried to hide the hurt on his face, but even Jareth couldn’t believe his ears, “Sarah!” he chastised.
“S’ok Jareth,” the dwarf said as he climbed down from his chair. “You shoulda been told a long time before now,” he admitted to Sarah, “but you wasn’t so be angry at me for that if you feel like it. Your aunt was taken away from you before you were born, before you even knew her so be angry at your mother for that. But if you think I’m goin’ to let you be angry because she’s a dwarf well you’re wrong. We’re a proud people, easily scared and sometime slow to show our feelin’s, but proud. Ain’t a dwarf in this realm better than your aunt. That’s why I married her, and that dwarf child you talk about was made in love, raised in love and named for you.” He thrust a stubby finger at her face. “Furthermore, in all the years we’ve had her, we’ve wanted her. We never wished one day to be without her let alone wished her out of our lives forever, so when you talk about being a dwarf like it’s something cruel or dirty, remember that mortals can be far worse.” Sarah reached for him, but shrugged her off and started away. Just before he left, he turned in the door frame, “I woulda been proud to be yer uncle.”
“Hoggle wait,” Sarah called. “You can still be my uncle.” Her tone had softened. The pain in his eyes more than enough to make her realize how irrational she’d been.
“I said woulda been,” he punctuated his statement by slamming the door.
Sarah collapsed against the king, sobbing. “What have I done? What have I done?” she cried repeatedly into his chest.
A subtle nod told Deverell he should see himself out. Jareth smoothed her hair, “There, there, you were just shocked. I shouldn’t have asked you to sit in with us. I should have told you privately so he wouldn’t see your reaction.”
‘My reaction,’ she thought finally getting a hold on herself. The declaration she’d made ran through her head. “I didn’t mean it like it sounded,” she told him. “I only meant it seemed fantastical to me, but instead I made them sound like they were all cockroaches, like their child was worthless.”
“We all make mistakes Sarah. Give him some time to cool off, then go and explain. He’ll forgive you.”
“He may, but I will never forgive myself. Here I am the recently converted mortal, working so hard to prove that mythicals deserve to be accepted and respected and how do I do that but by kick my best friend in the stomach with an off the cuff response. I’m a horrible person!”
“You’re not horrible.”
“I am! I’m atrocious. I wouldn’t make myself queen. Who could respect me? I’d line up with them to spit on myself.”
“Speaking of overreacting,” he took her hands and tried to reassure her. “Give him some time to cool off and you two will make amends. I certain of that.”
“You’re right.” Sarah pulled from his grasp once more and head for the door. “We are going to make amends, right now.”
“Sarah, I’m telling you, give him time,” Jareth reminded her as he slid behind his desk, but she’d already disappeared. “Sarah?” he called, but it was too late, she’d gone. He fell sullenly into his chair. “No one listens to me,” he moaned. “I’m king and no one listens to me!”
***** ***** *****
Through the front doors Sarah exploded, her porcelain legs pumping wildly propelling her toward the gates. Sections of her hair came loose from the pins they were in and whipped behind her in the hurricane she created. Her dress flapped like a boat sale. No one was at the gate. Tentatively she slid open the doors and entered the Labyrinth. Two things occurred to her as she stood inside the mossy walls: 1) she’d never in her life run as fast as she had when she left the castle and; 2) she’d not been in the Labyrinth alone since she first came back to the Underground. ‘Magic,’ she concluded as she dismissed the first delayed idea. It must have turning fey that enabled her to run like the wind. Smoothing back her feral locks, she felt more confident, until she turned around to see the doors through which she had come only seconds earlier were gone. Balling up her fists, Sarah rose them above her head and slammed her weight against the wall where the door should have been, groaning as she fell. “Now what?” she asked aloud.
“Well, there’s always a pot of tea on if your interested,” Winston reassured her.
“Thank you, but no thank you. I’m afraid I’ve too much on my mind for tea.” Sinking to the ground, Sarah looked at the small blue worm. “You seem to manage in this maze quite well.”
“Yeah, I make do,” he agreed. “s’lot easier with you back.”
“How’s that?”
“Not so easy to crawl around in walls that crumble down then.” Winston shook his head. “Here, why you trying to run away from the castle.”
“Oh I’m not running away,” Sarah reassured him. “I’m running toward.”
“Toward what?”
“I hurt some very badly just now and I can’t live with myself until I apologize.”
Winston nodded. “I see. But what about this person you’ve hurt?”
“They’re very angry and they’ve every right to be. I said things that gave off a terrible impression and I didn’t mean to say them, but I did and I must take them back.”
“No, no, no,” he repeated shaking his head, his tiny scarf rippling in the breeze. “You can’t make excuses Sarah. You’re no longer the child that fought these walls when she was a naïve mortal. You know the power of words here and you know that words do not come unprompted or without meaning, and above all, words are not easily taken back.”
“But I must,” she cried. “If Hoggle can’t forgive me, I…I…I don’t know what I’ll do.”
Wriggling closer, Winston rubbed his tiny tufts of hair against Sarah’s cheeks as her palms held her face, her knuckles deflecting tears left and right as they fell. “There, there. You never said it was Hoggle who you mean to apologize to. I’m sure he’ll listen to whatever you have to say, but don’t you think you’re being a bit selfish?”
“Selfish?” Sarah asked, wiping away her tears, curious as to his comment. “I’m being selfish by wanting to apologize?”
“No, no, no,” he said. “Not by wanting to apologize, but it’s you whose said these things, you who feels badly for it, you who needs to apologize and you who must do it to be at ease. What about what Hoggle wants?” His head sort of dipped in her direction and bobbed a bit.
“I never really thought of it like that.”
“Maybe you’re stuck because Hoggle doesn’t want you to find him right now. Maybe he wants to be alone with his thoughts. Maybe you should have some tea.”
“Do you think?” Winston smiled up at her. “Thank you,” she said, kissing the tip of her pinky finger and pressing it lightly to his cheek. “You are the smartest worm in the entire realm.” His blue cheeks went a hint purple. “Now how do I get out of here.” Sarah asked looking around, knowing the door would not reappear without the maze testing her in some fashion.
“The doors on this side only lead out I’m afraid,” Winston offered.
Passage ways that had once blended fluidly with their surroundings appeared to have texture now. Sarah could see the recessed doorways and hidden passages that until her Christening had managed to allude her. ‘Of course,’ she thought as she popped back up to her feet. “Thank you Winston, but I’ve got to return to the castle now, if you’ll excuse me.”
“Yeah, alright.”
Raising her hand and making a delicate twist of her wrist, Sarah vanished before Winston’s eyes and reappeared in her chamber where she settled in for a long bath to relax.
***** ***** *****
“So,” Jareth purred as he stooped next to her ear, “you decided to take my advice after all.” Ignoring him, Sarah sank further in the warm water, pretending to be asleep. “Poor dear,” the king spoke quietly as he studied her still face. “The toils of this day have fared hardest on you.” From the dressing table he’d had crafted for her, Jareth acquired the silver-handled brush with which he had so often watched Sarah bring a polish to her raven crown. Beside the tub once more, he sat, trolling the bristles through her hair and easing her to the point she thought her charade may easily cross over to gospel. In fact, it was the guttural sigh escaping her barely parted lips which gave away her trickery. “Ah, so you were not so much at rest as you would have me believe.” Jareth stood above her, a rakish grin consuming his lips, devilishness abundant in his eyes.
“Not entirely,” Sarah admitted. Caught in her attempted deception, she couldn’t help but smile. “I was enjoying you brushing my hair though.”
“Is that so,” he said beginning the task again. “You seem far more at ease than you were earlier.”
“I am”
Jareth’s eyes coated her with admiration, “I’m glad of that.”
“Tomorrow I shall find Hoggle and make my peace with him as tonight I have made peace with myself.” Rolling on to her tummy, Sarah looked at the king, her chin dimpled by the edge of the tub.
“What is it, love?” Cocking her head, she continued to eye him quizzically. “You look as if you’ve something on your mind, above and beyond the obvious.”
Their connection had deepened greatly since those days when she played the frightened child to his surreal king. The feelings she once had regarding him had graduated from a playful game of cat and mouse to better planned, more strategic match of chess. To wear her emotions so clearly across her fragile face was an amateur error for someone with Sarah’s experience. Coyly she smiled, conceding to his superiority. “It’s ironic, the notion that we are each others but still not free to be each others. Does no one see that?” she asked as her fingertips reached forward to push a strand of wild hair behind the king’s ear.
Jareth gathered her hand into his own, kissing the tip of each finger lightly. “I see it. Everyone who sees us sees it, but there are processes in a kingdom and as long as this one takes I shall wait. I have already been waiting my entire life for you, no amount of time could be a punishment.”
Sarah smiled at him, straining to reach her lips to his, eager for his touch, but forgetful of her new heightened senses. It was not long before her body yearned for a satisfaction forbidden to her. “Jareth,” she whispered heavily in his ear.
“We mustn’t,” he responded, showing a far cry’s more restraint than could be ordinarily expected of him. “We’ve come to far to risk our union; for what is one night’s pleasure compared to a lifetime?”
“You’re right,” was the grumbled reply. Despite all her wishing the water surrounding her refused to cool. “What shall we do to pass the night then?”
“While I know it lacks the luster of the more arduous intentions we’re desperately trying to ignore, there is a dreadful rumor going round the castle that your skills with magic are grievously sub-par.”
“To hell you say,” she laughed. “Banish the insolent that dares to critique my magic.” With a twist of her wrist, Sarah produced a feather light crystal which glided from her fingers and hung in the air between them. “See that! I’m getting better.”
“So you are love,” Jareth granted her, “but it seems you’ve got a bit of a ways to go.” Gingerly he poked at the filmy orb, pooping it like the ring of soap it was. “Now then.” He began the lesson by slipping into his black leather gloves and cracking the crop at his side.
“Where’d you get that?”
“I summoned it. Come now you can do the same if you want, if you focus and concentrate. Give it a try.”
Like a child working hard to shift his chubby fingers while keeping the waxy end of a Crayola inside the line, Sarah moved her hand slowly this time, painfully slowly, for even Jareth found himself gape jawed as he watched on. When the production had ended, a steel spatula extended from her palm. Sarah grunted, splashing water as her fist broke the tension of the water’s surface.
“Menacing, that much I’ll give you,” the king chided.
“Laugh if you must, but if I don’t learn to do these things I fear the entire realm will end up in equal disarray to that pit you called a throne room last time I visited.” Gently the king pried the kitchen utensil from her hand. Then taking her hands into his, Jareth asked Sarah to stand. “I’ve no patience for your tom foolery,” she chastised.
“Stand.” His tone was hard and unyielding.
Obediently she stood. Drops of water remained behind on her porcelain skin, susceptible to the powers of gravity and inertia as they joined together in tiny streams that ran the length of her form until they met up with the mother waters from which they’d been so roughly withdrawn. “Magic is no set of words to be repeated in a given sequence. It is not scripted motion.” Methodically he paced around her as she stood, the water deep as her calves. “Magic is passion, magic is desire, magic is want. His hand caressed the curve of her hip before Jareth locked his eyes on Sarah’s. “It’s a matter of concentrating on what you want. What do you want Sarah?” he asked her rather open-endedly.
What he said seemed not to synch up with what she heard. ‘It’s a crystal, nothing more...but this is not a gift for an ordinary girl who takes care of a screaming baby. Do you want it?’ She wondered as her ears played tricks on her, as his slow annunciation made her stomach tingle how, even at fifteen she’d managed to resist him. Certainly his charm was not nearly as wasted on her now. Yanking her from her reverie the chill in the late evening air came rushing through the castle, stinging her body and making her quiver. At least she’d blame the chill Sarah thought, if the king was to ask.
“Dressing perhaps? It’s something you’ll need to do rather frequently.” Jareth cleared his throat. “Picture what you want to be wearing clearly, down to the most minute detail. Think of nothing else, not even for a second or it can effect the spell.” Sweeping his hand, his formal clothes faded and were replaced by his nightclothes, the black silk pajamas Sarah had seen him in so many times before. “Now you try.”
A long peach chemise, lace trim at the neck and around the hemline, a peaked panel cut into the bodice where through the openings in the lace her abdomen could tempt the eye, she pictured it vividly, down to the last detail and when her hand swept through the air, the satin gown clung to her frame. Her eyes went wide. Her mouth agape. “I did it,” Sarah squealed. “ I did it.”
“And so you have love, so you have. But may I suggest one small modification when next you practice dressing.” Eagerly Sarah awaited his advice only to turn angry when met with his laughter. “You may want to get out of the tub first.”
Groaning, she looked to her feet, still submersed beneath the water. “Damn,” she snorted stepping free of the puddle, her gown drenched. Remembering her more rudimentary education, Sarah called upon the winds to blow dry the garment.
“Well done,” Jareth complimented. “Shall we work on your transports?”
“I’m not well dressed for travel.”
“Perhaps a short trip then,” the king indicated the bedroom. When next he lay eyes upon her she was positioned statuesquely above the duvet he long hair, loose around her shoulders, her rich green eyes lit by nothing more than the flames of a few candles. “Well done,” he praised her once more. “Well done indeed.”
***** ***** *****
As his lips fell to hers, Sarah could not help but notice the intensity of his kiss. Had it always been so? Or had it been her return of his feelings that seemed to bring on the robust edge his touch had developed? His eager hands, clean against her skin, were like fire and yet Sarah dared to dance brazenly in the flames, to be truthful she found herself seduced by them.
Jareth lie her back against the pillows and sighed heavily. “Enough,” he said simply, gently. “I shall not be able to stop myself if I do not do so this instant.” Drawing the sheets around her naked body, Jareth held her close. Best to close your eyes and dream love. The night shall pass more quickly if you do.”
“These months of celibacy must be making me mad,” she sighed. “Your touch to me is like the sun.”
“You forget, fey’s senses are much heightened by comparison to those of a mortal. Your becoming fey has enhanced a great many number of things I am sure. Are colors not more vivid to your eyes? Can you not smell the sweet violets which grow wild in the southeast sector as if they grew in the garden just below our window? Does wine not taste more sweet upon your lips, although I tend to lie the blame on you for that?” His hand caressed her cheek.
“The things you say are all most true. I thought it was my imagination, my appreciation for life after ours had been threatened so often. Will I remain this way, ever alert of all that surround me?”
“Ever more I’m afraid.”
Nestling into his side she prepared to rest. “Then let that truth keep me patience until I can more properly be your lady.”
The king watched on until she was asleep. His lips pressed into his hair. “Sweet naive Sarah, you have always been my lady.”
***** ***** *****
Easily mistaken for a strong breeze came Sarah’s first attempt at knocking when she reached Hoggle’s stump. Patiently she waited for a response, but not surprisingly none came. Drawing in a deep breath and hoping there would be some courage in the air from which she could benefit, she tried once more. Were anyone inside, they easily would have heard her this time, but alas no one came to the door. ‘I don’t blame him for not wanting to see me,’ Sarah thought as she trudged back toward the Labyrinth. Before she reached fifteen yards, she found her knees victim to a brutal and yet affectionate attack that rendered both she and her attacker to the ground.
“Sarah Two,” came the joyful cry which gave away at once the identity of the till then stealthy assailant. “Have you come to visit?”
“My,” she expressed at the way the girl spoke, “but you are getting to be a big girl!”
“I go to school now.”
“Do you? Well that is fine, fine indeed. Before long I shall fear you smarter than me.”
Sarah One smiled shyly. “Young lady, you apologize this instant. Running off, pranking people. Why you probably scared the poor woman half to her death.”
“It’s fine Drema. I’m fine.” Sarah Two said earnestly as she rose from the ground focused on the dwarfish woman, seeing now a subtle but convincing family resemblance there.
Tiny hands began batting at her skirt, a cloud of dust forming, “Heavens me. Your dress is ruined. Come inside and let me wash it for you.”
“That’s not necessary.” Sarah made a pass of her hand and instantly changed from the soiled blue dress into a fresh, brilliant yellow one.
“Bless my soul, I forgot you got your magics. Well if the Underground doesn’t suit you!”
“Does it suit you Drema” the woman looked at her as if she had gone mad. “The Underground I mean. Does it suit you?”
A thoughtful look fell on Hoggle’s wife. “I suppose it suits me fine. It is all I have ever known when I think about it so even if it did not suit me, I have nothing to compare it too. Isn’t that funny. I never thought about that, but then again I’m not much for travel. Although I thought next winter we might take our Sarah to the Southwest Sector for a visit to the workshops. Don’t you think she’d enjoy that?”
Choking back her tears, Sarah nodded pleasantly and forced a smile. “I think she’d enjoy that very much.”
“You’re welcome to come with us if you’d like,” Drema reminded her seeing a look of disappointment begin to cloud Sarah’s eyes. “You are always welcome to be a part of anything our family does.” Sarah’s tears broke loose. “Here child,” Drema soothed, pulling her friend to the stump and scurrying up to sit beside her. “Why are you crying?”
“Oh, it’s nothing.” Drema eyed her, “It’s just that I don’t think Hoggle thinks that way. Not anymore.”
“Nonsense! I know what this is about.”
“You do.”
“Of course I do. He told me how you let slip something about him being a less than satisfactory candidate for Representative.” When she heard the lie, Sarah made note of it so as not to let spill anything to the contrary. “Listen, you’re trying to be a good queen, and this appointment is the next step in getting closer to your marriage. Hoggle can be a fool, but don’t ever doubt, he loves you, as we all love you dear.” The dwarf strained up to kiss Sarah’s head as her child began struggling her way up the stump to join them.
“I don’t think he loves after what he said.”
“Well whatever he said, you forget it and tonight over supper I’ll make him apologize.”
Laughing through the tears, Sarah rest her head on Drema’s shoulder as Sarah One snuggled into her lap. “Why do you care so much for me when all my life, until now, we have been strangers?”
“Friends who had yet to meet!” she smiled. “Ever since I was young I had no one to call my family, that is until I married Hoggle and our Sarah came along. But he spoke of you so often and so kindly, I started to think of you as part of our family. Now you have a mother, deary and I would never be as presumptuous as to ask you to let me take her place, but were you to think of me as an aunt or a cousin, some part of your family, it wood surely make my heart happy.”
“Then happy be your heart kind woman for I think of you as if you were my very own flesh and blood aunt and this my cousin.” Sarah squeezed both dwarves tightly to her. “Let us not spend one more day acting as if we’re anything less than family. Where is my uncle Hoggle? I wish to mend bridges with him immediately and tonight a proper celebration at the castle. You will all join us at the castle for a feast.”
“Will there be macaronies with cheese?” Sarah One asked.
“More than you could eat for a week,” Sarah Two promised. “And root beer, an entire barrel, and for desert, strawberries and cream.”
“Yea!!” the tiny one cried.
“This is too much,” Drema half scolded. “We don’t extend you our hospitality in hopes of dining at the castle.”
“Of course you don’t, but if the castle is my home, what other hospitality am I to offer in kind.” Drema opened her mouth to refute, but Sarah quickly spoke for her. “I’ll have no more talk of it. Dinner tonight at the castle, 6:30.” Before anyone could argue she snapped her fingers and was gone.
***** ***** *****
“72...73...74” Hoggle counted aloud as he walked along the labyrinth walls. “If this keeps up I’ll have a hundred before lunch.” Watching him from a far, Sarah couldn’t help but giggle. The dwarf heard her, but went about his business as though she was no where around. “75...” he muttered distastefully, “...76...”
Wishing neither to surprise him nor to make her presence too obviously known, Sarah approached warily. “You’re having quite a good day, aren’t you?”
“I was.”
“I don’t blame you for being upset with me. I deserve it.”
“Hmpf!”
“How long do you suppose you’ll continue to be angry?”
“Being immortal I imagine it could last a while.” Stepping away from where she stood, he went on about his business, “...77...”
“I’d like to apologize, if you let me.”
“Can’t stop you.”
“I just came from your house Hoggle.” Sarah sat on the edge of the fountain, “I just talked to Drema, or should I say Aunt Drema.”
Startled, the dwarf let his atomizer hit the ground. He wagged a finger in her face, “She don’t know who she is, least she didn’t. She ain’t never done nothin’ to you, nothin’ but take you in and care for you. The Supreme One knows I love you Sarah, but if you done anything to upset her, so help me, I’ll never speak to you again.”
She had great admiration for the way he defended his wife, but way he spoke to her gave Sarah chills it was so cold. “I didn’t say anything to her. In fact, it was her who said it to me.”
“That’s impossible!”
“She told me that I had a mother and she wouldn’t want me to think of her as a mother, but perhaps as an aunt or a cousin. And I do Hoggle. I don’t know what made me say the impetuous things I said yesterday, but I was wrong. She’s as beautiful on the outside as any mortal I have known and twice as beautiful on the inside. You and she are treasures in my life and Sarah is more joy than I deserve to know. I am heartfully sorry for offending you and if you’ll have me for a niece I would love to call you my Uncle.”
“She said that did she?”
“More eloquently, but yes. And that made me realize that family grows in the heart. It doesn’t matter if you share blood. It doesn’t matter if you even know one another. You and Drema are my family, more so than my blood family. You have shown me greater loyalty, truer concern and deeper love. You must forgive me, otherwise, I shall never forgive myself.”
Shyly he approached her, timid, his head down. “I forgives ya Sarah.” His toe ground at the dirt beneath him. “I guess you kinda owed me one for that whole peach bit anyway.”
“I suppose.” Her arms spread wide to welcome him. “Come here, let me hug my uncle.”
Rushing into her embrace, he commented, “I ain’t never been nobody’s uncle.”
***** ***** *****
“Three more for dinner,” Sarah hollered in to the kitchen as she returned to the castle.
“Yes milady,” someone called back.
Calling for Arulan, she made her way up the stair case. With her feet set on the landing she turned to find the elf she’d been paging. “Where is the king?”
“His office milady. Shall I interrupt him for you?”
“No thank you,” she snapped her fingers and was eye to eye with Arulan. “I just pop in on him myself.”
“But, milady...” Before Arulan could say another way, she’d gone off down the hall.
“Jareth,” Sarah shouted as she burst through the door. Snapping his attention to her, he punctuated it with a look of surprise. “I invite Hoggle and his family for dinner.” His eye continued to grow wide until they began to monopolize his face and only then did Sarah bother to look about the room. Another set of judging eyes fell on her. “Good day Gavel,” she curtsied, “please forgive the interruption.” For the first time since she had been able to transport, Sarah appreciated being able to leave a room in an instant.
“She’s made herself rather comfortable here,” the Gavel told Jareth.
“Indeed. Sarah has adjusted well to life in the Underground, but it does not surprise me. This is now her home,” the king retorted.
The Gavel raised his brow. “May we get to the point of this meeting you called.
“I thought you’d never ask,” the Goblin King folded his hands before him on the desk and straightened his posture. “Gavel, at the Christening you told me you would not proceed with the trial until I found a replacement for Tiberon.” The Gavel leaned in, intrigued to here the king’s recommendation. “I am prepared to offer my replacement. Are you prepared to hold the trial?”
“You know I cannot approve your choice alone. The entire Triumvirate must hear you and approve your choice.”
“I am familiar with the laws and the procedures. The purpose of my asking you here this afternoon was to make certain you intend to keep your end of the bargain.”
“When will we move beyond this stalemate of distrust?” the Gavel asked.
“I imagine it will take some time.”
“Indeed. I have a jury hand selected for the instant your candidate is approved.” From his robe he pulled a diary. “If you are prepared to present your candidate, we can see you tomorrow morning, ten in the morning; otherwise, Tuesday next is the nearest availability.”
“Tomorrow will do fine,” Jareth hastily agreed.
The Gavel swept his hand over the page, setting the appointment. “Do you wish to check with your subject?”
“He is my subject. He will make himself available when he knows he is needed.”
Tucking away the diary, the Gavel swilled the remainder of the brandy he had been served upon his arrival. “Until the morning,” he said to the king as his hand pressed against the arms of the chair, bringing him to his feet.
“Until the morning,” Jareth agreed, extending his hand to the Gavel. With his free hand, Jareth rang for Arulan. “Please show the Gavel out.”
“Yes your majesty,” Arulan curtsied. “Gavel, sir, may I?” He led the way as the elf followed in tow, looking over her shoulder once in an attempt to tell Jareth she was sorry for allowing Sarah to interrupt.
***** ***** *****
The king found Sarah in her chamber. “The Hoggle’s are joining us for dinner then are they?” Blushing, his betrothed nodded. “I see and may I inquire as to the occasion for this celebration.
“Drema wants to be my aunt,” Sarah announced excitedly.
“Merciful Oberon, you didn’t tell her who she once was?”
“I did not,” she admitted, “but tell me, how is it that she doesn’t know?”
“There’s a memory spell put in to effect when a child becomes one of us. It is for the best of the child and it’s parents. Surely you understand. Your own memory is divided between the world in which you live and the world in which you were born. Imagine how a child would come to terms with the feelings you’ve had to balance.”
In those terms it did seem a just and merciful practice. “But she is now an adult, do you not think she might like to find that we are more family than she knows?”
“Does she not treat you like family even without that knowledge?” he asked. Sarah nodded. “Her love for you was not taught, not ordered by an elder, not obligatory, but of the best sort. She loves you freely and of her heart, so much so that she wishes you family even if her recollection tells her you are not. Isn’t that enough?”
“More than enough,” Sarah smiled. “And having come to that very same conclusion, is the reason for our celebration tonight. We have become a family of the heart.” Relaying the tale of Drema’s inquiry to Jareth touched him as deeply as it touched her. Knowing that she would have family here comforted him. “So naturally I insisted they join us for dinner and I promised Sarah One macaronies and cheese, fresh berries and cream.”
“I shall inform the kitchen.”
“Already done,” Sarah informed.
Jareth nodded. “Just as well. I shall send word to them to pack for a night’s stay. Tomorrow, I shall take Hoggle to the Triumvirate and present him as a candidate for Representative.”
“Will Drema not discover, when Hoggle takes Tiberon’s spot, that she is the reason he is now thought of as a royal?”
“Privacy is of the utmost importance here. Her privacy will be respected,” Jareth explained. “The Triumvirate, myself and Hoggle are the only ones who will know Drema’ true identity, thus the only ones who will ever know that the dwarf is a royal.”
“That seems rather unfair,” she protested.
“As you’ve come to learn Sarah, things here are not always fair,” he reminded.
***** ***** *****
They arrived shortly past six, each with a small bag clutched in their hand. Sarah One running ahead, the arms, legs and ruffles of her clothing peaking from between the cracks of her suitcase. Drema did her best to keep up with her daughter, a neatly packed overnight slamming against her thigh as she ran. Hoggle lagged behind, his few necessities tied inside a tablecloth dangling from the end of a pole. By the time he joined his family on the front steps to the castle doors, Hoggle’s child was near the pont of bursting being told to wait for her father. As though her feet were made of springs, she bounced vertically, crying out, “com’ on, com’ on, com’ on,” repeatedly.
Greeting them at the door, Sarah smiled broadly. “Welcome.”
“We’re going to spend the night at your house,” the tiniest dwarf called.
“Is that so,” Sarah Two asked. Sarah One nodded up at her. “Well then, I had best show you to your rooms.”
The small family followed Sarah up the stairs to two bedrooms in the eastern wing of the castle, between them an adjoining door should Sara One need anything in the night. Tossing her suitcase aside, the child immediately set out to test the springs on the mattress, leaping on it again and again until she was satisfied that it would do and then collapsing on the duvet in a fit of giggles. “Mercy me, if she sleeps a wink tonight I’ll be amazed,” Drema voiced.
“We shoulda stayed at the house. No one’s goin’ to get any sleep here tonight,” Hoggle groused.
“Everything will be fine. It was Jareth’s idea to have you stay, and so I’m sure it’s important to him. Please Hoggle try to get along.” Sarah knelt down and hugged the two of them. “I’m sure you’ll find everything you need. The bath is two doors down on the opposite side of the hall. If there’s anything I can get any of you, please let me know.” Leaving her company behind Sarah went to check on the dinner preparations.
***** ***** *****
“Sarah,” Jareth said, as they all sat around the dinner table, the elfish servants bring out their portions, “what is this orange stuff on my plate?”
“Macaronies with cheese,” she told him, “I thought I told you that was what Sarah asked for when I told her she’d be coming for dinner.”
“So you had, and by all means let the child have her macaroni, but has cook prepared nothing for the adults. Sarah nodded at the plates which had been set before the entire party. They had identical foods upon them. “You all intend to eat this?”
“Jareth,” Sarah whispered softly, “the Hoggles are trying to assert Sarah’s independence by allowing her to occasionally choose the meal without letting her think she can have control over a situation by having it tailored to her. You wouldn’t want to bring their parenting decisions into question by fussing over something so trivial as this.”
“Of course not, of course not,” he forced half a smile as by now their whispered conversation had attracted the dwarves attentions. “But Sarah, It’s congealed together in a lump so tightly I can tell which of the serving pieces cook used to plate it.”
“Just try it, if you don’t like it, I’ll have cook fix you a snack after she’s gone to bed.” Her demur hand covered his glove.
“Something spreadable,” he growled in a low tone, forgetting his company. Sarah blushed and shoved him playfully aside. Despite his objection, Jareth found himself rather found of the ‘orange stuff’ and when Sarah One politely enquired about seconds, he joined her in another helping.
When dinner ended, Sarah One, still smiling broadly at her fine meal, gulped down the remainder of her root beer and let out an enormous belch, for which she was quickly reprimanded by her mother. To make her seem less contemptible, Jareth too, polished off his beverage and tried his best to replicate the wee one, for which he was quickly chastised by Sarah Two for encouraging Sarah One. The child, on the other hand, thrilled at his momentary lapse into adolescence, exchanged a secret giggle across the table.
“Don’t see why we had to stay here. Ain’t like I couldn’ta come in the mornin’” Hoggle grumbled.
Jareth cleared his throat before leveling at him, “That is precisely why you are here. You don’t think the Triumvirate is going to take me seriously if I nominate a grousing, inarticulate barbarian to hold as respected a position as Representative.”
“What’s that sup’osta mean?” Hoggle asked angrily.
“It is supposed to mean, that if takes the better part of the evening, I will personally groom you for tomorrow’s meeting with the Triumvirate and tomorrow you will live up to the expectations I have for you, am I understood?”
The servants were bringing out dessert when Hoggle turned to Jareth, his wife and child distracted by the sweet berries and cream, “I sup-pose you are,” he spat.
***** ***** *****
If either of them had three hours decent rest it would have been a miracle. Sarah a woke several times looking for Jareth on the pillow at her side, but each time he failed to appear. Even as morning woke her, she discovered him readying himself in the bath. Drema bragged of the best sleep she’d had in ages while admitting that a majority of it was done without Hoggle in the room. At the breakfast table, they ate no more than they slept. Truth be told the only one among them who had even a decent appetite was Sarah One, who was now well into her third stack of pancakes to everyone’s amazement. When it was time to go, the men said their goodbyes and stood hip to shoulder before disappearing, leaving the women and the child behind to wait and worry at the castle.
***** ***** *****
“Bringing servants with you then, eh Jareth?” the Gavel inquired when they arrived.
Hoggle stood proud, “I ain’t no servant.” Jareth nudged him roughly with his boot.
“So I see,” the Gavel said as he eyed the dwarf. “You were to bring a nomination to us this morning king. I trust you did not go back on your word.”
“Never. As always my word is as good as your own.” His hand nudged Hoggle forward as he delivered a barely audible command for him to bow, then cleared his throat before articulating to the Triumvirate, “May I present my candidate for Representative of the Southwestern Sector of the Underground.”
The Cleric smiled. The Sage immediately began riffling the pages of the precedent’s log. The Gavel balled his hands into fists and ground them into the arms of his chair. “You dare to make a mockery of this court!?” he bellowed.
“I dare no such thing,” the king declared. “I have found you an irrefutable candidate.”
“Irrefutable?” the Gavel roared. “Do I appear to you a fool? That,” he pointed at Hoggle in disgust, “is a dwarf. A short, filthy, bow-legged, foul smelling dwarf!”
Showing all the restraint Jareth had spent the night drilling into him, Hoggle stood firm while he was berated, never flinching, no telltale signs on his face. “A dwarf to whom you will bow someday, I’ve no doubt of this.”
“It says nothing about he Representative not being a dwarf,” the Sage announced.
“More than that,” Jareth cried gleefully. “More than what your book of standards doesn’t say. More like exactly what it says. What were the precise words?” He feigned deep thought. “‘No royal shall be denied the title of Representative, so long as they are loyal to the king.’ Hoggle has been most loyal to me for a good number of years.”
“What of it?” the Gavel asked.
“Surely your highness, it doesn’t take me to accentuate the fact for you.” He paused a reasonable period of time, only to continue when no one spoke. “Check the record. This candidate’s wife was once a mortal woman. That mortal woman was...”
The Gavel went pale as he finished the king’s sentence, “Your betrothed’s aunt, making this,” and here again he indicated Hoggle with some disgust, “a royal by marriage.”
“And,” concluded the king merrily, “no royal shall be denied the title of Representative, so long as they are loyal to the king.”
“Surely you see the impracticality of this?” the Gavel began to argue.
The Cleric chimed in, “I see no impracticality to it at all. In fact, no one I can think of has a better knowledge for the sector or a stronger devotion to the queen.”
“The queen is not the king,” the Gavel pointed.
“But he will preserve her happiness at any cost, Hoggle has proven that,” the Cleric continued to match him particular for particular.
The Sage tossed in his undesired opinion, “Besides, think back. Did he not blindly follow the orders of the king when the mortal first visited us and then as fiercely follow her when she had won his heart. Indeed, his conflict was a deep one as he wrestled with himself in deciding whom he should remain true too. I think he would serve the king and queen nicely, more so now that their interests come from the same direction.”
“None of you has an issue with this?” the Gavel grasped. No one replied.
“It is, for all points of law, a legitimate nomination. I believe him good for the society,” said the sage after a formidable silence.
The Cleric agreed, “Good? I believe him to be great. The Underground is in revolution and what more revolutionary statement to be made. With Tiberon jailed, soon to be brought to trial and punished, you are free to give these people a bloodless victory, the spoils of war traded for the sheer triumph of a member of an unintentionally made lower class. Prove to them any dream can come to fruition with hard work and devotion.”
“Let them see us stand by our proposals for change,” Jareth chimed in. “For if I can change, and I have, surely it is possible for anyone.”
Left with no other choice, the Gavel looked to the dwarf, “Is this a responsibility you desire?”
Squaring his shoulders he spoke as profoundly as Jareth had taught him, “Only a fool would welcome being heaped with the responsibility of pioneering a change in such an old world as ours,” there was a tiny gasp synchronized by those in attendance. “No your highness, I may not desire this, but I deserve it, for all of the reasons proposed here to night. I deserve this responsibility and I cherish the opportunity, not only to serve my king and the lady who will be my queen, but to serve as an example to my child and to all the children of the Underground, to impassion for them what dreaming big, believing in yourself and remaining loyal can achieve.”
“Nicely said,” the king commented.
“Indeed,” the Gavel submitted. “Beginning tomorrow morning, the sector is yours to oversee utilizing the laws of your king and your community.”
“And the trial,” Jareth asked as the Triumvirate moved to leave.
The Gavel looked at him in utter contempt, “The trial shall be two days from now.” The king smiled. Two days! At once he felt both joy and disappointment. It was very soon and yet not soon enough all at once.
***** ***** *****
A constant stream of grumbling ambiguity streamed from Hoggle as he sat stubbornly in the center of their living room in protest at, as he put it, ‘being dragged out of his home and forced to live in that castle.’ Around him, progress went on despite his objections. Drema packed up the dishes and Sarah One moved pillows and blankets to the carriage outside the stump.
“I have people who can do this sort of thing for them,” Jareth groaned as he and Sarah worked one of the bureaus out of the bedroom.
“Be that as it may,” she agreed, “moving is a personal thing and no one wants strangers in their home toting out their memories and personal treasures. Moving out great grandmother’s dining room table and snapping off a leg from it as if it were a cheap piece Wal-mart compression board with no more than an ‘I’m sorry’ as compensation for something so irreplaceable.”
“Must you dramatize everything?”
Sarah smiled at him, “Only when I need you to see things my way. Hoggle’s family is the only family I have left now. I want to be there for them.”
“Then perhaps you should leave the rest of the furniture to Deverell and I and focus your persuasive energies on the immobile stone of a man waging protest in the next room.”
“I shall do my best,” she promised grazing his cheek with her lips, “but you are much easier to persuade than he is.”
“I’m offended by that,” Jareth declared as he snatched her arm, returning her kiss with a more passionate one which burned her lips.
***** ***** *****
“Ain’t goin’!” Hoggle shouted each time Sarah attempted to reason with him. “Ain’t goin’ and you can’t make me!”
“All your things and all your family are going. You don’t expect to remain behind with just your pride do you?”
Hoggle looked at her sternly, “Rather live with nothin’ and no one than inhabit the house of a cur.”
“You stubborn thing. After everything that’s been done for you, after all the providence you’ve been given. What about what you said at the Triumvirate’s yesterday?” He looked at her as if he’d been caught in a lie. “Yes, Jareth told me. You deserved this, were happy for the opportunity so on so forth, just words, words without meaning.”
“Were not!”
“Oh please,” Sarah sighed at him. “A man who could understands so deeply what chance truly is would also be wise enough to realize a house is nothing more than sod and stone, earth and wood. He would know even a prison cell can feel like home if there is love inside of it. Most importantly, he would see the hope to take something touched by evil and baptize it with goodness, but I guess you can only talk about those sort of things.”
Before she could leave him alone to think over what she had said, his stout legs were pounding on the earth beneath his feet, lapping her. “Well, what are you all waitin’ for? It’s my first day on the job. All this lollygaggin’’ is makin’ me late. You want them all to think I can’t get the job done, do you? Well not when Hoggle’s in charge!” Over is shoulder, the dwarf gave Sarah a good hard ‘I’ll show you’ kind of look, only to have his smugness counteracted by her charming approving smile, to witch he unwittingly smiled back. She beamed with pride at him, warming his heart like sun on his skin.
***** ***** *****
“No Sarah.”
“Why not?”
“No Sarah.”
“I’m sorry,” she protested. “Which part of this ‘No Sarah’ you’re so found of responding with serves to answer my question?”
“The part where I remind you this an has done nothing but connive and torment you since you arrived back Underground,” Jareth answered more fully. “And if that isn’t enough then let me reiterate the part where he tried to kill me several times, where he succeeded in killing several members of our court. He is evil and if you think a foolish thing like being found out will stop him from wanting to destroy every shred of happiness I have, you’re wrong. I won’t have you there, I won’t give him the opportunity to take you from me as well. There are some things not worth sacrificing.” Kissing her with unabashed passion the king added, “More succinctly, no Sarah.”
“The Triumvirate will be present, you will be present, what have I to fear?” she asked kissing him back.
“Give an old man a break. Humor me for what I have to fear then,” he begged her as he swam in the hypnotic sea foam green of her eyes. “Please Sarah, love, stay here where you’re sure to be safe.”
“As you wish,” she conceded, kissing him one last time before reminding hi he would be expected home by dinner.
***** ***** *****