THE CONCLUSION
Grabbing her by the shoulders, Arulan reminded her for the thirtieth time how lovely she looked, how perfect everything would be and how proud she was to stand in as her witness before disappearing into the bath to ready herself for the event. Sarah turned left and right a time or two trying to see herself from as many angles as possible. It was a spectacular gown and though she’d disputed the crown, when she saw it all together, it fit perfectly.
So entranced by what was scheduled to take place in just thirty minutes, Sarah barely noticed the whirling dervish in the center of the sitting room. It was tinged red, trimmed in black and as the figure began to solidify you could make out the details of deep burgundy gown patterned with a charcoal grey box iron cross pattern. Gold cording highlighting the narrow waist and the elbows, where a matching velvet patch ran from two inches above to two inches below the joint leading down to narrow sleeves which only began to flare at mid-forearm and then plunged low for a dramatic flounce. The bodice had a velvet panel between the breasts. Every open edge of the dress was trimmed in opaque black lace.
Sarah blinked when she saw the second set of eyes in the mirror, the long dark curls framing the warm beige face she would never in her life forget. Turning quickly on one foot she gawked, “Leanan Sidhe.”
“Do forgive the intrusion,” she bowed. “If I had known I would be coming, I surely would have sent word ahead.”
“Nonsense,” Sarah said. “Yours is always a welcomed presence.”
The Sidhe rose, stepping cautiously toward the woman her son had planned to marry. Reaching up her tiny hand, she ran the back of her long fingers down the side of Sarah’s face. “Such a beautiful peach he picked.”
Gasping at the feel of her touch, Sarah stepped back. “I can feel you,” she exclaimed. “How...how is that possible?”
Here the Sidhe laughed some, for it was all so strange to her as well. “The Supreme One has given me this day to make up to my son for a lifetime of pain and neglect. For today I will seem fully fey, tangible in every way, but only for today and without the benefit of magic of course.”
Warily she reached for the woman’s hair feeling its silky texture before reaching for the dress, soft and velvety. “Does Jareth know?”
The Sidhe shook her head, “I thought we would surprise him,” she smiled. “I wanted to ask first if I had your permission to attend, for I have not been my most kind to you and for that I am sorry. You truly are a rare find, capable of loving my son as I was never able. I wish you only the best and I assure you I will cause no problem at your ceremony for it was made abundantly clear to me that should I step out of line for even an instant my privileges would be revoked.” Tears filled her eyes, “I only wish to dance once with my son, to hold him and be held by him on this, his happiest of days and I shall rest forever more in peace. I vow it to you.”
Pulling the pain soaked Sidhe into her arms, Sarah’s tears rained into her hair and even Jareth’s mother could not hold back the drops which fell from her eyes. “Of course,” Sarah told her earnestly, “of course you may attend and I pray you’ll stay as long as you are able.”
Leanan Sidhe ran her hands along the fabric of the wedding dress which covered Sarah’s frame. The touch of the fabric, the rise and fall of the girl’s rib, the course grate of the veil all magic to her, all the sweet things of life, but it was the pounding heart that beat against the phantom’s empty chest which brought her the most comfort, for it had been many years since she were able to feel the comfort of love.
“One last thing,” she told the bride to be. “These belonged to Ian and me,” holding out two silver bands engraved with a Celtic pattern. “I’d like them to be yours and Jareth’s now.”
Sarah took the bands, “They’re lovely,” she whispered. “We’d be proud to wear them, but Deverell already has the rings and I’m sure he and Jareth are together.”
“A little magic ought to do the trick,” the Sidhe winked.
Winking back, Sarah cast a spell. Deverell felt the heat of the magic in his interior breast pocket, but when he glanced in to find two shining circles he never bothered to check the patterns and shrugged off the whole disruption.
Arulan emerged from the bath draped in a simple navy satin gown, corded at the waist and left loose so that it did not accentuate her curves, the sleeves dipped nearly to the hem, the shoulders and the neck line trimmed in a simple cream fabric bearing a matching navy embroidery to add a touch of elegance to the gown. Immediately she fell to one knee in a gasp, “Queen mum,” she cried.
The Sidhe ran to her quickly, lifting her from her humble position and looking at her with total seriousness. “Arulan, all these years my son has been left to your care,” the elf waited nervously to hear more, “you have done a fine job with him and I am eternally in your debt.” Her crimson lips pressed against the pale cheek of Jareth’s nurse maid.”
“‘Twas an honor to raise the king mum, but if I may ask, how is it you’re here? I thought you were nothing more than ash and spirit, pardon my saying.”
“I am, as you say, nothing more than ash and spirit, but the Supreme One, with his often undeserved generosity, has given me this day to share with my son all the love I kept from him during my life and it pleases me immensely to see that I have so many others to share the day with who, no offense intended, I had not thought of when I dreamt of sharing my son’s wedding day.”
Tears in her eyes, Arulan grabbed the Sidhe for one more embrace, “Bless the Supreme One mum, having you here will make today all the more special.”
“I always thought well of you,” she whispered into the golden hairs pressed against her cheek.
“Aye mum, and I of you.”
“Otherwise,” Leanan Sidhe continued, “I would not have left you the only thing I have ever unselfishly loved.” Removing herself from the embrace, the Sidhe stiffened her back. “Enough, I have come to be reminded of all that is lovely here, not to relive heartaches of the past. Let us board the carriage for the grounds, let us celebrate the future.”
***** ***** *****
The Sidhe helped Sarah into the carriage first, as Arulan managed her train and balanced her bouquet. “Here, watch where yer sittin’!” a gruff voice called.
“Hoggle!” Sarah called out. “What are you doing in the carriage?”
“‘Parently, you can’t walk twenty five feet on yer own. I’m sup’posta help ya.” He was nonchalant about it, but Sarah knew it was only to keep himself composed.
“You mean you’re going to walk me down the aisle? You’re going to give me away?” Sarah’s eyes were filled with tears again.
Arulan popped into the coach beside her in time to hear Hoggle’s reply. “I’ll walk you down that aisle,” he promised, “but I ain’t never gonna give you away.” The sincerity in his words made her chest feel hollow and she watched on in awe as Sarah scooped him into her arms.
Hoggle sat back as the Sidhe entered the coach, pardoning himself, still flustered by his exchange with the bride to be. When his wide eyes cleared enough to properly view the guest, he went stark white and drew a breath. “Do you all see her? Do you? I can’t be seein’ what I think I’m seein’.” He shut his eyes tight. “It ain’t the queen,” he chanted.
The Sidhe snatched him up in her long fingers, blood red nails more pronounced against his paled flesh, “Why Higgle, don’t tell me you’re frightened of me?”
“I am, I am, I am,” he sputtered, but the women about him all laughed madly. Hearing the uproarious guffaws, Hoggle quieted. “Somebody better start talkin’,” he grumped as he crossed his arms tight over his chest and slammed back against the seat. As Chataigne and Stardust, both dressed in their formal royal accouterments, broke into a trot, Arulan explained the queen’s presence. Hoggle’s tiny hands grabbed the sides of his shaking head, “If I live here for a thousand more years I’ll never understand this place, or the women in it!”
***** ***** *****
When they were still a hundred feet away, Sarah watched as the Cleric and his holy servants approached the alter. Each row of seats ended with a pedestal of phlox, a flower meant to represent souls uniting and arching above the alter was a trellis of ivy laced with violets. “Ivy,” the Sidhe told Sarah, “are a symbol of wedded love and fidelity and the violets, which I carried on my own wedding day, symbolize the taking of a chance at happiness.” Their rich purple was a brilliant contrast to the bright yellow daffodils in Sarah’s bouquet. She had chosen them herself, long stemmed yellow daffodils, outlined by the variety with a white skirt and all tied with the satin bow made from Arulan’s dress fabric. Meant to say to Jareth as she stood by his side, ‘You are my only one.’
Quickly Sarah felt at her neck and her ears for her mother’s diamonds and just under the gathers of her left sleeve was her grandmother’s handkerchief. Everything was in order. She felt prepared, that was until the music began to play and Jareth began to stride down the aisle. In all the preparing they had done, she hadn’t thought about what he would be wearing. From head to toe he wore white. His hair tinged blue to match the navy in Arulan’s gown. His boots bearing the family crest in gold, calf high on the outsides. His breeches rising up his incredibly long legs and consuming the tail of a flouncy white painter’s shirt. Prominently around his neck he wore his crest and his broad shoulders were well squared by a fine cape with a golden owl embroidered on it’s back, just peeking from beneath the tail of the cape was the tip of his great grandfather’s sword. It was perhaps the most magnificent Sarah had ever seen him.
In his shadow walked Deverell and as they passed the congregation knelt. Left and right, Jareth made subtle gestures with his hands indicating they were free to rise. When he reached the alter he turned, Deverell still just over his left shoulder. Though they were still too far away to make out and distinguishing characteristics, Sarah’s newly acquired fey senses told her there was a look of nervousness upon his handsome face, but none, she thought, so great as was on her own.
The carriage loomed ever closer to the end of the aisle, Sarah could see Sarah One, a tiny wicker basket in her hand, reaching inside and tossing a splash of red rose petals on to the blush colored runner which designated the aisle. Well not so much tossing them onto the runner, but tossing them up in to the air and then laughing and dancing in their shower as they fell. To her right, a slightly less enthusiastic, Balmek, tossed out handfuls of white petals which landed in clumps. By the time they had reached the center, he was seven rows ahead of his partner, eager to finish this walk and scamper into is seat between his parents.
“Are you ready then sweet child?” the Sidhe asked when the horses halted.
Sarah smiled at her with vast admiration, “I should be asking that of you.”
“Indeed,” she said sharing the same look her son often gave the ex-mortal. With a hefty sigh, she gathered the bottom of her gown and prepared to step out.
“Allow me,” Hoggle said proudly as he hurried out of the carriage door.
Inside the Sidhe staled and Sarah watched as the nervousness on Jareth’s face grew exponentially. “Do something,” Sarah nudged Arulan who then exited the carriage and stood to the left of the step up. “Go on,” Sarah encouraged the Sidhe. “Your son is waiting for you.”
As if that were the precise encouragement she had needed, Leanan Sidhe rose from her seat and popped her head out of the carriage door. Before her feet had touched the ground, the entire collection of guests let out a cumulative gasp and hit the ground. “Get up,” she commanded them. “I am no longer,” and she could have easily stopped at that, but after a small pause, she went on, “no longer your queen. You have but one ruler, one real king,” and here she looked at her son, whose strong composure kept him from charging down the aisle to his mother’s arms. Her thin fingers rose to her lips and threw a kiss in Jareth’s direction. Moments later he felt the warm press of her lips against his cheek.
The Sage rushed to her side and lead the Sidhe down the aisle where she sat safely between the two members of the Triumvirate not actively involved in the ceremony. Arulan then walked down the aisle and took her spot opposite Deverell.
When the music changed, Sarah recognized her cue immediately. “When I live my dream, I will take you with me, riding on a golden horse. We’ll live within my castle, with people there to serve you, happy at the sound of your voice.” It wasn’t hard to distinguish the familiar sound of the bard they had met in the northwest sector when they first journeyed to the Triumvirate. Sarah eased out of the carriage door, taking Hoggle’s hand and staring out over the crowd as she descended the step.
From the moment her head first rose, Jareth locked eyes on his bride. She was perfection from every angle, the look of her, the cut of her gown, the curl of her hair, and the flowers that she had chosen, spoke their message as clearly as the words of his wedding song to her, still playing in the background.
“Maybe I’ll slay a dragon for you, or banish wicked giants from the land, but you will find that nothing in my dream can hurt you. We will only love each other as forever, when I live my dream.”
Squeezing her fingers, the tiny dwarf at her feet looked up, “You sure this is what you want?” he asked before they started down the aisle.
“Positive,” she reassured him and off they went. The guests rose as she passed and stayed on their feet.
From the far back corner of the bride’s side, a great beast rose. Perched upon his shoulder sat a noble fox. “Sar - rah pretty,” Ludo roared.
Didymus was bound to agree, “Yes, yes, quite lovely, quite.”
“When I live my dream,” the bard sang on, “I’ll forgive the things you’ve told me and the empty man you left behind. It’s a broken heart that dreams. It’s a broken heart you left me. Only love can live in my dream. I’ll wish and the thunder clouds will vanish, wish and the storm will fade away, wish again and you will stand before me while the sky will paint an overture and trees will play the rhythm of my dream.” All around her Sarah looked at the smiling faces and the weeping eyes. “When I live my dream, please be there to meet me. Let me be the one to understand. When I live my dream, I’ll forgive the hurt you gave me, then we can live in our new land. Til the day my dream cascades around me, I was content to let you pass me by. Till that day you’ll run to many other men.” By these lines, Sarah had reached the alter. Hoggle gave her hand over to Jareth not too nonchalantly giving him a criticizing look just as the bard sang, “But let them know it’s just for now. Tell them that I’ve got a dream and tell them you’re the starring role.”
The newly made Representative took his seat with his wife and child, beside them a thick pillow upon which Winston and Jena watched the ceremony. Jareth took her hand, kissing the back gently. “You’re stunning,” he whispered.
It was as he complemented her that Sarah noticed his face, the gold flecks upon his eyelids that brought out the blue of his eyes, the liner on the edge of his lids that drew the focus of her stare, the light gloss which made her want to kiss his lips right then and there. She watched the tears form in his eyes and fought back her own.
They turned to face the Cleric as the bard finished up the song Jareth had composed, “Tell them I’m a dreaming kind of guy and I’m going to make my dream come true. Tell them I will live my dream. Tell them they can laugh at me, but don’t forget your date with me when I live my dream.” The bard’s strong voice brought out creatures of all types to settle on the Labyrinth’s walls, scatter along the hills and scurry into trees, all doing their best for a small peek at the festivities.
The last notes of the guitar faded before the Cleric spoke. “Ladies and gentlemen of the Underground, royals and commoners alike, we’re gathered here today to witness the union of Jareth, Goblin King of the Underground, to Sarah.” Her last name was omitted as was a former mortal affiliation. Those things were her past and this was her future. “If anyone here has any objection to make with respect to the union of these two, let them make their grievance public at this time.” Eyes burned onto the Gavel waiting for some horrid response, but none came. “Sarah and Jareth culminate today a love which began sixteen years ago in a sense of reality, but spiritually it began generations before. Their journey has gone full circle. They have left each other to fly free as birds and yet they have found themselves drawn inexplicably to the same nest, to the familiarity of one another’s closeness. They leave behind the loves of their past, leave behinds friends, families and all the nay sayers who doubted the success they have proven to be. They have nursed each other through illness and defended each other with their lives. Their testament to love and to one another is the thing of great tales to be told at fairy rings for centuries to come. It is their sincerest wish to prove their commitment by sharing aloud with you today their promises to one another.”
“Sarah,” Jareth spoke softly, “I have loved you for as long as I have known the meaning of the word. When you left me, you tore apart my world and every day between then and your return Underground, I vowed that if the Supreme One were to bring you back to me, I would spend everyday making up for not making it clear to you then what my feelings were. My happiness, my life, my kingdom, are all dependent upon you.” Tears welled in both their eyes as his stare grew more and more intense. “I promise you to spend all the rest of our days expressing to you clearly that my heart is yours to treat as you deem fit, my life is yours to command, my kingdom yours to rule. Each of the people here today has grown to love you and I have grown to love you as much as their collective hearts. I can only stand to love you more as the years tick on and I will remain your humble slave forever.”
“Jareth,” and here Sarah drew a deep breath to compose herself, “coming to the conclusion that the maddening mix of emotions I felt for you were in fact love was one of the most deeply soul searching ordeals of my life, but not because you were difficult to love. Rather because I wanted to be able to say, without doubt or pretense, that my love for you was as certain as the sunrise. To reach the conclusion that flutter in my chest, the quiver in my knee and lightness in my head was my love for you wrecking havoc on my body was the most rewarding of my life and before this realm’s inhabitants I make you this promise. Your heart will be in secure hands when you rest it in my palms. Your life will be safe when you intrust it to me and your kingdom will mean as much to me as it has always to you. You have quite literally made me what I am today and for the rest of my days I will be trying to show you my thanks for that. You have given me my every wish, fulfilled my every dream and taught me the best of magics, your love, for that is truly the greatest magic I have ever known.”
Even the Cleric at this point had to swallow back a lump risen in his throat. “There are to be rings.”
“Yes, yes, I...uh...erm...” Deverell fumbled in his pocket for the rings before handing them to the Cleric, “Here you are.”
Recognizing them immediately, the Cleric shot a clandestine glance at the Leanan Sidhe. “We ask the Supreme One to bless these rings as we ask him to bless the wearers of the rings and in respect for Sarah’s former race’s customs, I ask Jareth to take this ring, place it on the third finger of Sarah’s left hand and repeat after me. I offer you this ring as a symbol of our love.”
Jareth too recognized the ring, rolling it about in his palm before he lifted his bride’s small fingers and placed the band as he had been instructed. “I offer you this ring as a symbol of our love.”
“As a symbol of our fidelity.”
“As a symbol of our fidelity.”
“And with this ring I take you to be my lawfully wedded wife.”
“And with this ring I take you to be my lawfully wedded wife.”
“To have and to hold from this day forward.”
“To have and to hold from this day forward.”
“For richer or poorer, in sickness and in health.”
“For richer or poorer, in sickness and in health.”
“Til death do us part.”
“Til death do us part.”
The band slid easily into place on her finger and then it was her turn to accept the ring from the Cleric which only an hour earlier she had accepted from the Sidhe. Without quiver or choke she repeated all the words the Cleric gave her until the last statement, when the woman looked deep into the eyes of her husband and said definitively, “Forever.” In case it could be misconstrued by anyone that something as paltry as death could stop their love. The Sidhe had taught her that.
“Very well,” the Cleric said. “It is my sincerest pleasure to present this necklace to you, Sarah, Goblin Queen of the Underground.” From the alter he lifted the necklace Jareth had given her for protection, the one the Sidhe had worn as queen. Stepping out around to Sarah’s side, the Cleric held it to her neck and used his magic to unfasten it, draw the ends to her back, beneath her hair and veil and fastened them. “You may, if you so wish, kiss the bride Jareth; however, I’m sure there’d be no problem finding you a substitute if you’re not feeling up to it.”
Smiling broadly he swept his new bride into his arms, “There is nothing I feel more capable of doing. The kiss he gave her just then was not the polite publically acceptable kiss Sarah always imagined her wedding kiss would be but rather it was a deep and powerful romantic kiss that should have cast any unspoken doubt out of the mind of any attendee who had previously failed to speak. It certainly surpassed everything Sarah had imagined.
***** ***** *****
With the ceremony ended, there was nothing left to do, but for the happy couple to lead the march around to the gardens where a proper reception had been planned. Twink was there to announce the arrival of the new king and queen. There was more than enough for everyone to eat several helpings and the mead and wine barrels were rolled in as needed to accommodate the guests’ thirst. Jareth and Sarah went cluster to cluster saying their hellos to the guests and answering the questions of the royals. As often as he could, the king sat with his mother, both saying the things they always wished they had. As often as possible, the Sidhe made some excuse to reach out for him, to touch his face or brush back his hair.
Ranofyr kept his distance, staying little longer than it took im to eat and waving from across the grounds as he took his leave.
“A permanent invitation to you both,” Elbereth told them before leaving himself. “You’re welcome at any time, together or separately, alone or with company, however many the number.”
But it was Gandor who embraced them best. “Sarah, marriage suits you quite well. If it is possible,’ he gathered up her hands, “you look even more lovely then when first we were introduced.
“Thank you,” she blushed.
“And you, your majesty, ‘tis no doubt you are most fortunate to have turned this eye and won this heart.”
“Fortunate indeed,” Jareth admitted. “May I thank you once more for the hospitality you have always extended to both of us.”
Gandor took them into his massive arms, “Thank me by bringing your little ones to visit the workshops and play with the elves, that I may see the wonder in their eyes as once I saw in yours.” The newlywed’s faces hung. “It was your intention for children, was it not?” he asked upon noticing their expressions.
“Yes,” Sarah told him with a weak smile, “that was our intention.”
Cheers and shouts interrupted their fraternization, “Dance! Dance! Dance!” they requested.
“Your people are already making demands of you my queen, should we oblige them or tell them to piss off?” Jareth chided her.
“I think it best for realm relations if we oblige them,” and then to play on his joke, she added, “just this once.”
As her son held his new bride tenderly in his embrace, the Leanan Sidhe watched on. Tears streamed freely down her face as she watched them gliding across the garden, their eyes expressing more to one another than words ever could, their hands gripping each other’s frame as if the idea that they could be torn from one another at any moment was still weighty on their minds. This was the greatest gift her life had ever brought her. Arulan’s hand folded over hers, slipping a hanky between her long fingers. It was only then, the Sidhe even realized she had been crying. As the song ended the couple kissed, refusing to reign in their passions for one another and headed back toward Jareth’s mother. Though she quickly tried to dry her eyes, Sarah easily saw the tracks beneath her eyes.
“Jareth,” she whispered covertly into her husband’s ear, “dance with your mother.”
“As you wish,” he replied, as he always did, as he always would. “Mother?” he asked extending his hand. She looked up at him like a school girl at her first big dance. “Dance with me? Dance with your son?” He clutched her unsteady hand and pulled her into his arms, lucky for her too, her knees were weaker than wet cardboard.
One by one, those on the dance floor took notice of the king dancing with his mother, they backed away until a ring formed around the couple. A thick ring which Sarah fought through so she could see her husband fiercely hold his one time tangible mother as she wept on his shoulder. “Thank you mother.”
“Please don’t thank me. I have never done anything to deserve your thanks or to deserve your love. I just consider myself fortunate to have them.”
“You are more deserving than you give yourself credit for,” he whispered to her, pressing his lips against her cheek.
She returned his kiss, her cheek wet against his. “I’m sorry I can’t stay, can’t be with you for all that lies ahead for you and the woman that you love, but know this, I will watch over you for all your days. Death cannot take a mother from her child. I will hear you when you call my name and when you speak to me I will listen. When you ask of me I will send my reply on the wind or write it in the stars, but I promise you I will always be nearby.”
“And I will look for you mother, in all I do and everything I see, I will look for you.”
“You have been an exceptional child.” The Sidhe’s eyes sought Sarah out of the crowd. “And you have chosen for your wife an exceptional woman. I wish you both exceptional happiness.”
“I’ve heard you talk like this before mother.”
“We knew my time here was not about to last forever.”
Jareth’s grip on her tightened and his head burrowed in his neck. “Mother, I beg you don’t go.”
Her hands cupped his face, “My son, I can never leave you, we are each other. You came from me and you will carry me with you all your days. Do not weep for what you lose this day, rather relish in what you gain. Much lies before you and to darken it with my shadow would bring me pain.” She turned to summon Sarah as the music changed. The Sidhe linked hands with both of them. “Be here for one another, hold each other up if you fall, be strength to each others weakness. Thank you both for letting me share this day, for letting me share your lives and for breaking through to me even after I asked repeatedly to be left alone. You two are my legacy and I could not be more proud.”
“The Supreme One was this kind to you, don’t you think that if he knew, truly knew all you had been through in life, perhaps he would let you stay,” Sarah suggested.
Leanan Sidhe turned to her with a wide smile. “My love, the Supreme One knows truly, the story of all our lives and that is why I’ve been given this chance. He knew my true heart could never hate my only child. Tonight he gave me the chance to set that straight. I could not ask him for anything more.” She caught both their attentions with a tight grasp of their hands, “Learn this from me if nothing else my babies, you have but one life even if it lasts forever, don’t waste it wondering what could have been, but live it dreaming of what can be.”
It was after her parting words that she cast back from the newlyweds, her arms outstretched, a familiar white light filling her aura as her majestic voice filled the night. “The sun is sleeping quietly once upon a century. Wistful notions come and rid hardened caresses laid to rest. For my dreams I hold my life, for my wishes I behold my nights. The truth at the end of time, losing faith makes a crime. I wish that this night time could last for a life time. In darkness surround me, shows off all my sins, oh how I wish to go down with the sun, sleeping, weeping with you.” Simultaneously, Sarah and Jareth fell to their knees as the Sidhe rose up from the ground her head thrown back and her lips still in contrast to her voice which continued to ring at them from all angles. “Sorrow has a human heart, for my god it will depart. I’ve sailed between a thousand moons never faulting where to go. Two hundred twenty two days of light will be desired by a night. A moment for a poet’s pain, until there is nothing left to say, I wish for this night time to last for a lifetime. In darkness surround me, shows off all my sins.” The whirling dervish which brought her to this realm, tore her from it, her love for her son and his new bride as obvious as the moon, “Oh how I wish to go down with the sun, sleeping, weeping with you.”
Sarah clung to her husband there before their guests, before their loved ones and the Triumvirate who had formed a wall behind them and who had laid their hands on them in support.
***** ***** *****
Not wanting to dampen the festivities, Sarah and Jareth quickly put aside the strong feeling regarding him mother’s departure, saving them for a private time when she could be properly grieved. Making that task easier was the fact that the Triumvirate had whisked them off to a corner of the garden where they had left their gift. The Sage covered Sarah’s eyes and the Cleric covered the king’s and the Gavel uncovered an ornamental sized tree, a Rowan tree, a graceful breed with grey brown bark found at altitudes of over one thousand feet. “We’ve brought it down from the mountain,” the Gavel told them.
“This tree,” the Sage added, “was sprouted out of a rock face, its seed left by a bird in a crevasse there. It has weathered much as have you two.”
“And its legend of protective value is well known,” the Cleric added. “It will ensure that no one will be able to bring harm again to your home.”
“Thank you,” Jareth said, shaking each of their hands.
When he extended his palm to the Gavel, the elder drew him close, “If I told you now that I had to test to you, had to be sure of both your feelings for each other, would you curse me?”
“I’d have cursed you for a lot less,” Jareth chided him. “Let us heed my mother’s warning and live for our tomorrows your highness.”
“Agreed,” the Gavel said reaching to include Sarah in their embrace.
***** ***** *****
Outside the party went on until every goblin lie passed out in the cobblestones of the city, but the bride and groom retired shortly after midnight to begin their honeymoon. Jareth had planned for them a week’s stay at a mountain spot inhabited only by a few sprites who would be only too happy to serve the newest king and queen. Upon recommendation by the Cleric, they had gotten permission to stay, but that was to begin tomorrow. Tonight was more than enough anticipation to last them until then.
Alone at last, Sarah flung the head piece from her crown and sighed. “I thought they’d never let us leave.”
Draping his long since undone cape over the back of one of the chairs, Jareth commented, “We’re their king and queen Sarah, love, they have no pow...”
Before he could utter what she thought he was about to, his wife pinned her fingers over his lips, “Hush. I’m not taking any chances with those words ever again.” She found herself quickly pulled into his embrace. “Beside, I think you know how much power you have over me.”
“Likewise love, likewise.” Jareth covered her lips with his wet mouth, kissing her passionately. “I feel as if I’ve waited for you all my life.”
“In some ways, you have.”
“True,” he conceded. “Very true, but I mean to say this moment. To love you with no regard for consequence.”
“Tell me was it a wait worth making?”
“Greatly,” he sighed as his lips kneaded the tight skin of her neck. “Sarah,” he said softly as he searched her hair for her perfect ears, “this is your first time as a fey, my love, and things will not be the same as they were before.” She had guessed this already. The mere touch of his flesh to hers had felt electric and the few kisses they had shared that night had done their part to moisten the well hidden treasure between her thighs. “If I’m moving too fast, if you’re feeling...”
Her fingers hushed him again, “Really husband, have you no better use for these lips then to make them flap endlessly?”
Spirit like hers was not easily made nor easily matched. To quiet her complaint, he snapped his fingers. In a flash what had been organized for her as a virginal bridal suite became hinted with little bits of what would prove to be a playful romantic adventure. The bed was suddenly thick with a layer of rose petals and peacock feathers and the candles were all dark reds giving the floor a warm and fiery glow. Champagne buckets on either night table and while she looked about vainly attempting to take it all in, Jareth scooped her up and sat her on the bed.
Between her knees he stood, eyeing his prize. He knew he wanted to love her slowly, ease her into what fey senses really meant, but at the same time convey his heated passion for her. Tenderly he undid the tie on her petticoat, slipping it softly from her shoulders as he trailed kisses on the skin he bared. Gathering the hem of her dress, his finger searched for the band that held together the crinoline layers and upon discovery tugged it from beneath her skirts. Left in nothing but her silken slip, Jareth could now easily admire the shape of his wife.
Sarah lifted the medallion from his neck, lying it with care on the end table, before removing her own jewelry and placing it with his. His hands at the small of her back, the king drew her to him for another kiss, this one deep and forceful as his tongue stroked over hers with growing need. Her hands worked feverishly to loosen his shirt from his waistband and not long after she succeeded it was over his head and roughly tossed aside. His pale skin glowed crimson in the candlelight. When she lowered her head to cover his bare chest with kisses, her thick curls swept his nipples and even the mighty king admitted to experiencing a sensation he had never known. Sarah slipped one tiny nipple into her mouth, sucking at it, allowing her teeth to graze him and she was rewarded with his tightened grip, that is until he lay her back gently but forcefully enough to remind her that he intended to be in charge tonight.
She lie on her back, legs dangling from the bed’s edge completely vulnerable before him wondering how he would tease her next. Would it be his hands? His mouth? Sinking to the ground, he started at her feet, kissing slowly up to her knees, licking behind the knee cap, the whole while inching up the slip to reveal more and more of creamy skin. His long fingers kneaded her thighs, his tongue lapping at the juice flowing from her as if it were sweet nectar. One arm just over her buttocks, Jareth pulled her to him, the warmth of his swollen member hot against her primed lips, and held her suspended just long enough to slip the skirt up over her waist where he could easily free her of the encumbrance entirely.
Fully nude before him she was a spectacle, a vision of all he’d hoped to dream for. He wouldn’t admit to it, but it was magic which freed him of his boots and breeches as he lay her back. His fingers reached for her hardened nipples, cascading over them at first, seeming uninterested and then going back to massage the full breast more thoroughly. Trapping her nipple between his knuckle he rolled it around and pinched at it until he heard her moan.
Hovering over her made it easy for Sarah to quickly remove the last of his garments, her nails raking his back as she did. ‘One dirty trick deserves another,’ the king thought as he lowered his mouth to Sarah’s unfondled breast and began to torment the nipple with swirls of his tongue, rolling it between his teeth until she sighed. Continuing to work mercilessly at her nipples, Jareth’s hand slid the length of her figure, rising only once he had found the contour of her inner thigh. At first he only massaged her mound with his palm, but when she began to grind against him, the king enchanted two of the feathers to continue stimulating his bride as he lowered his mouth to her opening and stroked her slowly with his tongue. Sarah moaned her fulfillment when he tasted her, plunging his tongue into her as she tightened her muscles to enhance her pleasure. When the waves of her first orgasm began to quake her walls, the king roughly pressed his thumbs to either side of her clitoris, until his name was all he could hear.
Sarah’s hands filled with his hair. She would be lying if she didn’t admit to experimenting with her new found senses on occasion during their period of celibacy, usually in the tub, but even her solo misadventures could not have prepared her for the intensity of her lover’s direct touch. Side to side she tossed as the spasms ravaged her, until his calm hands smoothed against her back. He stroked her until she relaxed and then proceeded to ignite her passion a second time when the soft patting of her back was being done not with his hand, but with his lips. His hands now busy massaging her behind, Sarah closed her eyes allowing Jareth to kiss at her spine, dragging his tongue over the vertebrae. Reaching for the cold champagne, Jareth pulled the cork with his jagged teeth and poured some on the curve at the small of Sarah’s back. The iced liquid felt as if it may sizzle against her scorching flesh and before it could spoil, the king was only too happy to drink it from her gully.
Though Sarah longed to touch him, she waited, knowing that this was his time to command, thinking of all the nights she would have to challenge him for control, perhaps to the point of distraction as her husband who only seconds ago was content to relax her body was now reaching beneath her, his fingers once more masterfully manipulating the bud between her folds as the shaft of his eagerness slid between her engorged lips. Sarah bucked against him at the instant over stimulation and he made efforts to stop her sudden moves, fearful that a misplaced thrust may well spoil their game. First he reached for her breast with his free hand and second he sunk his teeth into her rump for a playful and yet definitive reminder that he had not relinquished her. His touch was fire to her now. It was well and good of him to make her cry out his name, but Sarah wanted to join with him, unite in the way they had been forbidden these many months.
Jareth entered her slowly from behind, forcing in another inch even when Sarah felt as though she had accepted the length of him. Then slowly, deeply, the king worked her until the second orgasm had come and gone. He withdrew from her slowly, his gut wrenching as they separated, for even now there was some doubt in his subconscious, some gnawing idea that she would be ripped from him. Delicately, he put her fully on the bed and then lie himself beside her. Scooping up some of the remaining rose petals, that is to say those that Sarah had not already sent fluttering to the floor, Jareth rubbed them over her body and inhaled the musky scent as it mixed with her natural one.
He kissed her stomach, her naval, letting his lips climb between her breasts until they reached the summit of her lips. “There is an indescribable difference between making love to you and making love to you as your wife,” she murmured breathless. Weakened, she could do little more than kiss his forehead.
He drizzled champagne over her lips until he saw her come alive, rehydrate. Pressing his lips to her ear he told her, “I hope you’re not yet ready for sleep.”
She smiled at him to let him know she was indeed willing to endeavor to outlast him. Between her thighs, Jareth sat back on his feet, resting her buttocks in his lap. He massaged at her mound and drew his finger across her opening until she was slick and ready to accept him. Drawing her mouth to his, he kissed her deeply as he entered her. Sarah tightened her walls around him and almost immediately began to moan. “I love you,” he growled into her hair where his lips mingled with his tangled fingers.
“I love you,” she whispered knowing she had broken the rules by taking away some of his control, but it was in good fun. With forever ahead of them they would hopefully have many power struggles of this variety and the king felt quite comfortable in losing this one. As he looked solidly in her eyes and continued to thrust into her, the power of her magic seduced him and it was not long until he could feel the build of his own release.
Timing the contraction of her muscles to correspond to his inward thrusts, Sarah easily brought him to the brink, her own body, so caught up in his eyes, in the glint of his wedding band in the candlelight and in the defined sensation of him as he entered her again and again, began to quake once more. She felt him throb inside her and beared down hard for the next thrust sending them both into an otherworldly state of ecstacy. Spilling himself into his new bride, the king collapsed against her dew covered skin and held her naked in his embrace. Sarah, feeling confident that even as a highly sensitized fey she could still keep up with the drive of her lover, curled into him, ready for her rest, eager to substitute more lovemaking for their morning meal. A morning which would only come if she fell off to dream.
Sometime in the night they shuffled round, until Jareth was spooned behind her, his left hand fallen over hers, their wedding bands overlapping. Anyone watching, and let’s pray to the Supreme One no one was, would have seen the unique glow the bands took on when they were so close together and even the slowest goblin would have been forced to draw the connection between the rings and the wearers of the rings, for the pale fey skin which had always been a trademark of the fey was now a healthy pink with the human flush of love.
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