“Is it all so obvious?” he asked.
“Why shouldn’t it be? What you did today will be a legend in the Underground for centuries to come,” the elf beamed proudly.
“I wouldn’t care if it were all to be forgotten tomorrow,” Jareth said truthfully, “so long as it got me the freedom to marry Sarah.”
“Rest assured it has gotten you both. I’m very proud of you,” she flung her arms about his neck, kissing his cheek quickly. Into his ear, Arulan whispered. “She’s been in her chambers all day, waiting for you to return, refusing to allow any of us to pay visit.”
“Is something wrong?”
“I’m sure she feels the same partiality you do when the two of you are separated. Go to her and her world will be righted once again. I’ll have something sent up to tide you both until dinner.”
“Thank you Arulan.”
Jareth took the stairs in threes, his anxiety causing him to forget his ability to transport and make ridiculous demands of his impractical footwear.
***** ***** *****
When he threw open their chamber’s door, Jareth found Sarah crying on the bed, a crystal very near her head. “What is it Sarah?” he cried.
Lifting her head, she admitted, “Everything you said...”
His hand enveloped her tear stained cheeks as he realized she had watched the trial in a crystal. “Everything I said was nothing more than the truth.”
“Your truth is more beautiful than any truth my old world could ever show.”
“The harsh truths of your world will forever be a memory to you now love, our wedding is set for this week’s end,” Jareth reminded her.
“I know,” she said, the pink fading from her eyes and reappearing merrily on her cheeks. “I can scarcely believe it, I’m so excited.”
“Imagine it Sarah, imagine finally we will belong to one another, no one to speak against it, nothing to keep us apart. To have you for my wife, it is my richest dream.” The kiss which followed was a rough one, his passion so strong it would have easily devoured her if she hadn’t matched his fervor in return. In seconds their mad longings had them pawing at one another, clinging steadfast as if their contact was the only thing sustaining their lives. “I love you,” he reminded her in the brief second he could bear to keep his lips from hers.
Before she could reply in kind Arulan was knocking at the door, no doubt come to bring them something to eat, sending them to neutral corners. Sarah’s hand waved over her face sending off the perspiration on her brow and the crimson in her cheeks as Jareth granted Arulan access to their room. “Well,” Arulan said as she looked from one to the other, “when is the wedding?”
Giggling, Sarah looked away shyly, content to let Jareth answer on their behalves. “There will be an announcement made at dinner.”
“Oh, come on, you can tell me.”
“An announcement will be made at dinner.”
“But I’m...”
“Thank you for the tray Arulan, you do take the finest care with us.”
“Jareth, surely...”
“We look forward to seeing you at dinner tonight.” The elf looked at him with sad eyes. “Surely you understand we’ve much to discuss before we’re prepared to share our happy news with anyone else.”
“Of course,” she curtsied.
As the door closed behind her, Sarah could no longer hold back a strong giggle. “Jareth, you’re terrible!”
“Forgive me if I want our happiness only to our selves for a few short hours, if I want the news to come from us both rather than as a singular directive.”
“Forgiven,” Sarah declared.
***** ***** *****
For hours they lie there, no words to exchange between them, only the shared sensation of overwhelming relief. In five days they would be married, all they had fought for would at last be granted them and eternity would be theirs to wile away at their leisure. Then it sunk in, they were to be wed in five days and nothing had been stitched, baked, painted, planned, or prepared. In fact, no one had even been notified. As if the realization hit them in a synchronized blast, they both sat bolt upright, looked at one another and spouted the first things to come to mind.
“I’ve got to get the seamstress to make my dress.”
“Where will put everyone?”
“Who should we invite?”
“Cook will need a count.”
In seconds the horror in their eyes was replaced by wild laughter at their own idiocy. “Sarah,” the king spoke softly as he stroked her hair, “if it is only you and I and the daisies I shall be pleased. We can dine on meed and clothing shall be optional.”
“Perfect as that sounds,” Sarah agreed as she nestled against Jareth, “we will only do this once in all our lives. I’m not saying it has to be extravagant, but let’s make what we want of it.”
“My thoughts precisely. Let’s decide who we want to invite and then after we announce the wedding at dinner I can talk to cook and you can go see about having your dress begun.”
“Jareth, how are we going to decide? I mean we’ve gone around these last how many months preaching better equality to the masses, stressing community over class and then we hand pick the guests to our wedding? What would that say about us?”
“So you want to invite the entire realm,” the king chuckled but Sarah’s look of seriousness did not fade. “You really want to invite the entire realm?”
“Well the ones who want to come,” she shrugged. “Not everyone’s going to be free on such short notice.”
“Sure, most of them will probably have important dates to keep with foreign dignitaries. Sarah! We can’t invite the whole realm. Where will we put them? What will we feed them?” His arms folded around her, “Trust me love, it’s perfectly acceptable to be selective when it comes to this, it’s expected.” Knowing she’d never agree to the same attendants from their planned elopement, Jareth began whittling back number in his head until finally he suggested, “How about this? The Triumvirate, the Representatives, the castle’s court and all of the Goblin City. That’s generous.”
“Ludo and Didymus should be there too. Can we invite the inhabitants of the Labyrinth?”
“Do you want the fire gang at our wedding?”
“No.”
Jareth sighed with relief. “Fine then. The Triumvirate, the Representatives, the castle’s court, all of the Goblin City and the creatures in my employee. That will include the lummox and the fox.”
“What about Winston and Jena?”
“Are you serious? A couple of worms!”
“They’ve been very kind to me,” Sarah pleaded.
“Fine, I shall employ him for some trivial purpose before we announce the ceremony tomorrow. Is there anyone else?”
Sarah thought hard about everyone she had met both before and since her return. “Twink and the bard. I wouldn’t feel right not having them there.”
“Don’t worry love, I have special plans for the two of them. Alright then can we agree, The Triumvirate, the Representatives, the castle’s court, all of the Goblin City and the creatures in my employee which will soon include Winston?”
“Agreed,” she smiled up at him, surprisingly content with the reduced guest list. Just then the dinner bells sounded and albeit Pavlovian, the couple’s mouths began to water. A wave of their hands in unison and they were dressed and ready to join the rest of the house in the dinning hall.
***** ***** *****
Intentionally Jareth cut his food into miniature pieces, so meticulously the others sat staring, some on their third or fourth flagon of mead. “For mercy’s sake your majesty, please make the announcement,” Arulan pleaded as she leaned over to the king.
Smiling widely, allowing his jagged teeth to reflect the candlelight, Jareth asked, “And what announcement might that be?”
“You know full well what I’m speaking of!”
“Ah, so I do,” he admitted, ringing the bell just in front of his place setting. As the staff filed in, the Goblin King made eye contact momentarily with each of them and then calmly announced, “I would like a second helping.”
Tiny elvish hands pummeled him. “Blast you! Since you were a child I’ve fallen for your games. Now tell them about the wedding this instant or with my own hands I’ll...oh you infuriate me to the point of not knowing what I would do!”
“Wedding?” one of the staff asked.
“I see another cat has been left loose to wander my kingdom,” Jareth concluded as he eyed Arulan. “Allow me to clarify that which my servant has prefaced for me. Ladies and gentlemen, it pleases me beyond words to announce formally that Sarah and I will be wed five days from today at three in the afternoon. You are all invited to be our guests, but first I beg assistance from each of you in readying for the major event.”
A small voice from the wait staff piped up, “Does this mean you don’t want a second helping?”
“No, no thank you, but more mead, all around!”
Cheers erupted in the tiny room from all but Arulan who let loose the tears she’d been waiting to cry.
***** ***** *****
For the next few days, it was anything but business as usual around the castle. Drema had taken over running the schools so Sarah was free for fittings and floral appointments and Deverell ran the Underground while Jareth met with the chefs and musicians. Each night the anxious couple met in bed, sometimes having not seen one another since waking that day. Jareth would wrap his bride up in his arms and shower her with his attentions. Sarah responded to his touch, curling into his side. Both could hardly find the desire to sleep, their anticipation filling them with too much energy to rest, but at the same time, if they could close their eyes and part with this conscious world for just a few hours it would speed the arrival of their nuptials. Sarah used her magic to call the wind, using its easy rhythm to lull them to sleep. Content in one another’s warm embrace they watched the curtains give the imperceptible guest shape, bringing with it the sweet peace of slumber.
Limited as their time together was, they managed to remain positive. After all, they were working toward their wedding. The last full day before the wedding, the finishing touches were put into place. Last minute decisions were made over decorations and seating assignments and in keeping with the melding of the traditions, the Cleric arrived shortly before dinner to walk everyone through the ceremony which would take place the following day. Naturally he was invited to stay for dinner, but it was at the end of the meal that attempting to honor both traditions took an unbearable turn.
Goodbyes said to the Cleric, he was seen out and with all of the festivities for the wedding in play, the king planned to excuse himself and his bride to be for an early evening. “About that your majesty,” Deverell said looping his arm through Jareth’s and walking him off in a direction which did not lead to his chamber.
Simultaneously Arulan escorted Sarah away, using the bustle as a cover for her actions. “Where are you taking me?”
“To your room, milady. You need plenty of rest for tomorrow.”
“Where’s Deverell taking Jareth?”
Arulan stumbled for words, “Yes, well, his majesty will be sleeping in one of the guest rooms this evening.” Shuffling Sarah up the stairs she added, “Don’t worry, he’ll be fine. Now come along.”
“Arulan, why is Jareth staying in a separate room?”
“Is that not your tradition, milady? Do the bride and groom not spend the night before their wedding apart from one another?”
“Not this again,” Sarah groaned before conceding. “Yes Arulan, that is the custom.”
Lagging behind the elf by four or so feet, Sarah obediently followed her to the room which held so little interest for her now without Jareth to be found within it. As they reached the door, Arulan reached for the knob, “Your room milady,” she said with grand gesture as she bowed low and flung open the door.
As she stepped inside, Sarah gasped. The entire room was changed, just for this night, just fo her. Everything was draped in white lace. The bed made with white linens, all around the room huge vases filled with white roses. White candles giving off warm light all around the room. Inhaling deeply, Sarah was instantly put at ease by the mix of rose musk and lily of the valley scented candles. “It’s gorgeous!” she exclaimed. “Thank you.” Her arms folded around the elf and she pulled her tight.
“I’m glad you like it miss,” Arulan said as she allowed her face to fall against Sarah’s rich black hair. “Anything else you need, don’t hesitate to ask, at any hour of the day or night. After tomorrow I’ll be your servant too, you should get used to calling on me.”
“You have always been more than a servant to me Arulan, and to Jareth. After tomorrow, you shall be even less a servant I’m sure.” The elf smiled when she felt Sarah’s lips press against her cheeks and Sarah did the best to not fuss over the salty wetness she found there.
***** ***** *****
“Are you mad?” Jareth asked when Deverell showed him the spare room they had chosen for him. “This is a guest room...that bed is barely larger than Arulan!”
“Sorry your majesty, but ‘tis bad luck to see the bride before the wedding, so say the mortals.”
Jareth groaned as he sat on the edge of the bed, “So they say alright,” great disappointment evident on his face. As he fell back against the mattress, the distinct difference in length between became fabulously apparent, for while his knees folded over the lower most end of the mattress, there was little more than a pillow’s width above his head. “Idiotic mortal customs!” he groused.
“We all thought you would be agreeable to this,” Deverell chided as he began to close the door behind him, “And you should know we’ve already anticipated your trying to sneak out to see Sarah and I feel it only fair to warn you that the halls have been trapped.”
“Of course,” the king sighed as he folded himself up into the bed, “I wouldn’t have it any other way.” He lie there waging war against sleep, practically refusing it, for if he were to be honest, he would have admitted that sleep was more likely and certainly more able to come to him when Sarah was not in his arms. Her presence filled his mind with thoughts of waking activities. With no such distractions he would have easily been able to rest, but he simply refused.
Waving his hand Jareth separated the curtain above his head. The night sky was midnight blue filled with silver specks of light. He wondered if sleep had as strongly appealed to her as it did to him. As if it had a voice of its own the sky seemed to call to the king until what should have been obvious from the beginning became too clear to avoid. Quietly as he could, his sensitive ears alert for bells or whistles, Jareth slid open the window pain. Relaxing his lithe body he allowed it to fall forward from the sill. A second before he hit the ground, his royal garb was exchanged for a coat of fine winter white barn owl feathers and in the silver light of the moon his feather’s earth toned markings glowed bronze. Even all these centuries later the feeling of flying still thrilled Jareth and before landing gingerly on the sill of their bed chamber window, he found it hard to resist taking a long circle around the back grounds of the castle, stretching his wings wide and allowing the breeze to take him where it liked. When he peered through the window, he immediately noticed the curtains parted precisely as he had done in his own room. The window was open which, while making the landing much easier, was no real surprise. He was fully aware of how much she loved to sleep with the windows open.
Wide yellow eyes peeked in over the headboard to find Jareth’s bride fast asleep in a cloud of white linens, surrounded by a snowy veil which draped the entire bed. All but the candles in the chandelier had gone out, providing just enough light to make Sarah’s alabaster skin distinguishable from the satin sheets, while providing enough shadow to hide his presence and to blend her raven hair into the darkness. Sleep had indeed claimed her, leaving behind a slight smile on her delicate lips. Secretly he hoped she was dreaming of their wedding. For a few more moments he watched on from the window until his having seen her looking so peaceful made him ready to accept the sleep which had been so generously offered earlier.
Once more he fell from the sill on which he had been perched, this time with his wings already in tow, and glided through the sky one more time, before returning to his room, returning to his fey shape and gladly allowing sleep to overtake him.
***** ***** *****
Sweeping in gently through the window and shaking Sarah awake with a searing touch, the sun roused her from her dreams. Shining like platinum, the yards of white surrounding her seemed to ingest the golden rays. For a minute she forgot where she was. ‘I’m dead,’ she thought. ‘I’ve died and gone to heaven.’ It was Arulan bursting through the door with tray in hand that reminded her she was very much alive.
“Time for your last breakfast as a single woman,” the elf sang, forcing Sarah to admit that she was more nervous about today than she may have originally thought.
“I don’t think I want to eat anything,” Sarah grumbled.
“Don’t be silly. You’ve got to have something in your stomach. You don’t want to get faint in the middle of the ceremony do you?”
The idea of that had never occurred to Sarah. She’d thought at great length about tripping in the aisle or forgetting the words, not being able to get the ring on, her make up running when she started to cry, getting tangled in the ribbons that hung from her flowers when she tried to pass them away, but passing out never occurred to her. Looking at the tray she debated, queasy stomach, light head, queasy stomach, light head. In the end, she nibbled at the plain toast and drank her juice figuring that it was better to make a small attempt to satisfy each ailment than to overlook one in its entirety.
“Now then,” Arulan said as she sat on the edge of the bed opening a small folder, “the seamstress will be by in an hour to fit your dress for any last minute touch ups, then we’ve got to get you squeaky clean and done just so before you’re dressed. His majesty has planned for you to arrive in a carriage at the end of the aisle once all the guests are seated, so we should have you boarded by quarter to and then the rest is up to you my dear.” Lovingly, she smiled at Sarah which immediately made her eyes begin to water. “What is it milady? Is something on the schedule not to your liking?”
“No, Arulan, no, everything on the schedule is fine. I suppose that in all this rush to prepare for our wedding little things escaped me and only now, when things are becoming real have they occurred to me.”
“Whatever they are milady, we still have time, albeit not much, but some, to weave your every heart’s desire. Tell me what I can do for you?”
Flowing freely the tears stained Sarah’s cheeks. “I’m afraid no one can give me what my heart desires most, for no one can change my mother and make her the kind of woman who would have sat with me on my wedding day, tucking flowers into my curls and passing down some family heirloom for me to carry. No one can bring me my father to walk me down the aisle, patiently stroking my hand and apologizing for whatever idiotic thing my step mother has just said and Toby, this all started because of him and he’s not even here.”
Embracing the woman tenderly Arulan smoothed her hair. “Hush, love, hush,” she repeated rocking her gently in her arms. “I know how much you miss them, how much you wish they were here, but you realize things cannot be exactly as you wish.” Sarah looked up at her nodding wearily and dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief she’d summoned. “However, there is a tradition in your world of bringing a number of things with you to the alter, correct?” Eyeing her with much confusion, Sarah had no reply. “Something old, new, borrowed and blue?”
“I’ve taken care of that,” Sarah said opening her bedside table.
“Never mind what you’ve collected Sarah dear, I have a collection for you which I’m sure you’ll prefer to anything you’ve gathered here.” Intrigued, she watched Arulan carefully as the elf flitted about the room. “Your dress is new,” she reminded. Lying out a long satin ribbon on the bed she announced, “I had the seamstress make this from an extra piece of my dress fabric.” It matched exactly the rich navy they had selected to compliment Arulan’s blonde hair. From a dresser drawer she pulled a small box, “These,” she told the girl as she opened it for her to see.
Sarah didn’t let her finish, “Those were my mother’s,” she supplied when she saw the thin silver chain and diamond pendant, hung between two posted diamond solitaires.
“Borrowed,” Arulan shrugged, but Sarah seemed unphased by the admission. “And this,” she whispered in phantom secrecy handing over what had once been a white four inch square box, now yellowed by age, with rounded corners from handling. Inside she found a lace trimmed linen hankie embroidered with:
Nick and Francis Williams
Today, tomorrow and forever
June 21, 1934
Sarah held the swatch of fabric to her cheek, it smelled of storage, but it smelled familiar to her too and suddenly home was all around her. Tears of sadness were replaced by tears of joy and the sluggish start to her day became an eagerness to perform all the tasks associated with readying for the wedding.
***** ***** *****
The king was a separate story entirely. When Deverell finally arrived to see if he had stirred, the king’s assistant found his majesty fully dressed in his wedding clothes and impatiently pacing the floor. “I mean it’s ridiculous to schedule something like this for the afternoon. What is one supposed to do with the bulk of their day sitting around waiting for the sun to fall half way down the western horizon.”
“Most grooms don’t rise with the rooster on the day of their wedding, your majesty.”
Turning on his heels he faced Deverell with poignant seriousness, “Most grooms have not waited nearly sixteen years for their brides. Most grooms have not nearly lost their brides on three separate occasions and on a permanent basis.”
“So you’re saying you have extenuating circumstances,” Deverell chided. “Come Jareth, sit with me, have some tea, destroy me a few times at chess and you’ll find it’s time to walk you down the aisle before you know it.”
“Have you surveyed the grounds to be sure everything’s perfect?”
“No,” he admitted. “I came straight here.”
“Can I rely on you for nothing?!” the king shouted.
Wisely Deverell chose not to take the king’s outburst to heart. “I could only assume, your majesty that my observations wouldn’t satisfy what you could see with your own eyes.”
“Indeed,” Jareth proclaimed as he started for the door.
Grabbing his shoulder, Deverell reminded him, “Perhaps you’d rather not inspect the grounds in your formal wear.” Jareth eyed him critically and waved his hand for a more casual appearance.
***** ***** *****