Fae Council

Chapter 3

Sarah awoke slowly the next morning, confused by her surroundings in the way only a bad morning person could be. Where was her apartment? As she became more awake Sarah became less disorientated, and worked out what was going on. She had returned to the Labyrinth.
The mattress next to her suddenly weighed down, and an arm snaked around her waist, drawing her close to the warmth of another person.
“Hmmm, I think your bed is more comfortable then mine. It might just be the company though.” mocked Jareth, as he pulled her closer, noticing the way her hair smelt, a bit like a spring morning, a mix of floral scents and cool air. “Did you sleep well?
“Why do you keep doing this?” Sarah demanded blushing, sitting up, although secretly she wouldn’t have minded staying in bed a while longer.
“Doing what?” he replied, eyes widened in mock innocence.
“Waking me up. Attacking me in the morning. I hate mornings.” She punctuated her speech with a glare back over her shoulder and moved to get out of the bed completely.
“Maybe I will reschedule my ‘attacks’, as you call them, for the evening then.” Jareth said, grinning wickedly at the way his comments always made her blush.
“What’s the rush?” He asked, grabbing her by the shoulders and pulling her backwards onto the bed. Sarah gave a half hearted struggle, but ended up back in bed, facing the inexorable smirking Goblin King.
“Jareth!” Sarah sighed, fighting the urge to spit in his face. “Let me up!”
“Why would I want to do that?” Jareth answered, leaning in just enough so that Sarah could feel the heat of his breath. It made her tingle. “Especially when we are having so much fun.”
The nearness let loose a chaotic swirl of emotion in Sarah. It was all too much. She flew out of the bed, and stormed out of the room, into the wardrobe. Jareth smiled knowingly, waiting for the explosion. Sure enough one minute later Sarah stormed back out of the wardrobe screeching.
“Where are my clothes?!?”
“What clothes?” Again, he pulled the innocent face. Sarah crossed her arms and gave him *the look*, which was a cross between a glare and a visible death wish upon the target.
“Oh, those clothes.” Jareth said ambiguously, suddenly remembering. “They are not yours. They are mine. I allowed you to use them, but today I have changed my mind. Now ask nicely.”
Sarah just rolled her eyes and stamped her foot. “That’s not fair!” she whined.
“Ahh! I have been wondering when that little favourite would be brought out of the box again.” He said, his evil grin sharply juxtaposing the amusement in his eyes. “Our conversations were becoming lonesome without it.”
“Jareth, please, be reasonable…” Sarah said, trying to make him see reason. “I can’t stay in my pajama’s all day. I fully intend on leaving this room.”
“Uh, uh, uh.” He said, wiggling his finger at her as you would at a disobedient child. “They are my pajamas. I allow you to continue to wear them only out of courtesy. Now ask nicely for your clothes or I will continue to ruthlessly torment you.” He paused for a moment to think. “On second thought, that could be fun. Feel free to continue whining.”
Deciding to quit while she was ahead, Sarah sauntered over to the bed, kneeling just by the end of it to rest her head on her hands on the edge. Doing her best impression of deserted puppy eyes, she said in an ingratiating voice, “Please Jareth, let me have some clothes to wear.” She punctuated the ending of her plea with a batting of long black eye lashes, she had always known they had a use. They often poked her in the eyes though, and got in the way.
Jareth, half amused at her display, half surprised that he had won so easily, and knowing of Sarah’s distaste for the colour green, immediately appeared a simple sleeveless moss green dress. It was cinched in at the waste and flared slightly at the hips, drifting softly in waves around the ankles. At least the neckline was decently high, Sarah noticed with relief, even as she was repulsed by the colour. Picking up the dress, she flounced towards the bathroom, to make herself more presentable. Upon reaching the door, she turned back towards her bed, and Jareth.
“You stay there! And no perving!” She ordered, as she watched him observe her every movement, and she could feel her face turning red.
“I promise not to ‘perve’ as you so delicately put it. But I have to go, my dear. There are things to be done, and I have to do them.” He paused, waiting for the expected flood of curious questions. It never came. Sarah just stood there, looking at him, as though for the first time.
“Anyway, I hope you will join me for brunch. I will send for you when it is ready.” And with that, he faded out of her room.
Sarah stood, surprised, for a moment. She had never considered the fact that Jareth had a kingdom to run, he didn’t just steal away people’s babies. After that she continued into the bathroom, giving her face a quick wash before slipping out of her pajama’s and into the green dress. It fit suspiciously well, though, Sarah thought, I had better not question the reasons behind that. I may not like the answers.
As she stared into the mirror, admiring the way the horrible colour green made her eyes seem more intense, a stray thought popped into her head.
“What the hell happened to breakfast?”

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Jareth paced around his study, which was really a renovated oubliette, like a sulking cat. What possessed him to tease her like that? He had gone into her room this morning to explain the situation, but she had just looked so adorable in those nearly completely thread bare pajamas, it was beyond him to resist. She looked so cute when upset. He sighed. Now the unpleasant task of telling her the truth would have to be resolved over brunch, a ridiculous meal that took the place of breakfast every so often. It would probably ruin the meal, and the rest of the day. He had hoped to get in his side of the story before she was fully awake, hoping that way she would have been more receiving to his plans.
“Ye called, ye highness?” Quavered Hoggle’s voice from behind the door.
“Hoggle I have told you to drop the act. And that stupid accent.” Said Jareth impatiently as he gestured towards the seamless door with one hand. It swung open to reveal a well dressed Hoggle, tapping one elegantly clad dwarfish foot.
“Well, you know how much I like the little game we play when someone is in the Labyrinth.” Said Hoggle in a surprisingly cultured voice. “I get to act all simple and as if I am afraid of you! What fun! Can you just imagine?”
Jareth rolled his eyes, they had been through this many times before.
“And now that Sarah is back in the Labyrinth,” Hoggle continued, ignoring Jareth’s reaction, “I should probably do my best to make her comfortable. She is friends with old Hoggle, not real Hoggle.” He finished the last bit in that rustic accent he so favoured.
“Are you finished yet?”
“Yes.”
“Good. I have a problem. How am I going to tell her that it is essentially her own fault that her family is dead? That the reason she was all alone above ground was because she won?”
“Yes, err… that could be a bit of a problem.”
“Great lot of help you are, my friend.” Said Jareth frustrated as he conjured up a time piece. “Is that the time already? I hope our charming house guest hasn’t resorted to eating my furniture. It belonged to my mother you know.”
“Yes, I know. You had better go feed her.”
With that last bit of advice Jareth faded away, presumably to get Sarah to take her to brunch.
“That boy has no idea what he is getting into.” Said Hoggle sadly, as he settled into one of the leather bound chairs that Jareth was so fond of, considering what a fully awake Sarah’s reaction was sure to be.

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AN: I considered cutting this one off here. Seemed like a good place....but who am I to offer crumbs of a story when there are entire cookies to be had? Thus, I continue...
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Brunch with Jareth was turning out to be harder work then she could have ever imagined. He wasn’t eating, just sitting, and staring, and had a look in his eyes that could only be construed as thinking. Every time Sarah raised a morsel of food to her mouth, or her cup to drink, his eyes watched. Finally she reached her limit.
“What are you looking at?” she demanded, blushing furiously.
Jareth was startled out of his thinking stupor by her words.
“Why, you of course.” He said, mentally kicking himself for the ‘snappy comeback’
“Well if that’s all I think I would like to have a look around,” She started standing up, but at the look on his face she froze. “That is, if that’s alright with you?”
He considered things a moment. Now was his chance to tell her, while she was still feeling accepting. Well, at least he hoped she was.
“Sarah, there is something you should know…” He started, sounding unusually nervous.
“Yes?” Sarah prompted him, growing impatient at his long pause.
“There is a reason I appeared to you in your room the other night.” He hesitated, unsure whether he could do this to her, while she seemed so happy. But under the influence of her eyes the whole tale poured itself out. About the rules, about the air-tingles, about the Fae council. Sarah sat in the chair listening impassively, incapable of forming words or thoughts. After all, what can you say when suddenly every bad thing that has ever happened to you in your life makes sense? When the seemingly never ending flow of hurtful information that stemmed from the Goblin Kings mouth reached the part about her father and Toby, she couldn’t take any more.
“Just stop it.” Sarah whispered dangerously. “I don’t want to hear anymore.” She moved to leave once more. Jareth’s reached out and grabbed her wrist as she turned away.
“Wait, Sarah, you have to let me finish.” He pleaded, forgetting his pride out of sympathy for her. It cant be easy to listen to this, he thought.
Sarah struggled, trying to free her wrist from his vice-like grip. “Please, Sarah, if I stop now I might never be brave enough to finish later. And you need to hear what I have to say.”
Upon hearing the earnest tone in his voice, something so unlike the picture of the Goblin King she had built up in her mind, Sarah slowly sank back into the chair.
“Ok,” she said, drawing in a shuddering breath, trying to calm herself down. “Finish what you have to say.”
So Jareth, treading as carefully as he could, finished the story, unable to meet her eyes. He finally looked up when he had finished explaining the reason behind him appearing in her room that night, to see Sarah staring past him, into the Labyrinth.
“You have to understand, I was powerless to stop what happened to your family. It would have only made matters worse if I interfered. How ever there is something I can do to stop the same thing happening to you.”
“And what is that?” Sarah said, voice void of any emotion. This should have been a warning sign, but Jareth in his haste to tell her his plan, didn’t see it.
“You must become Fae.”
“And what does that entail?” Her voice was growing quieter with every word, until he could barely hear her if he strained.
“You have to bind yourself to a Fae, in an act called ‘bonding’, or an object of Fae creation. It is done to most of the elfin at birth, as it extends their lifespan so. Your lifespan continues only as long as that object or person exists, and you may find yourself taking on some personality aspects of the object.” Pausing for affect, Jareth watched as Sarah stared off into the Labyrinth, absorbing every word.
“ It is a permanent, but once you become Fae, the council wouldn’t be able to touch you. You would be safe.”
“And what if I choose not to? What if I choose to return Aboveground and just see if this isn’t all some twisted bullshit?” She said, snapping suddenly to attention with an edge of hysteria in her tone. “And how the hell do I bind myself to an object? Let alone a person!”
“Sarah, you need to calm down. Now is not the time to discuss these things.” He pushed his chair back from the table, and made to leave. Now it was her turn to reach out, grabbing his ever-gloved hand as he walked away.
“Tell me! How is it done?”
Jareth sighed, he had hoped to avoid discussing this until she had had time to calm down, and think about the situation. “Bonding is when a thread of your soul is woven around a chosen others, as every Fae created object has a soul in it’s own right. There is nothing similar Aboveground, but I believe that it is where the term ‘Soul Mates’ comes from.”

With that he left, unable to face the accusation in her eyes any longer. But her last confused words floated to him over the distance as he reappeared in his favourite oubliette once more.
“But who would bond me?”
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Authors Note: My eyelashes actually do that. Poke me in the eyes I mean. (If you don’t know what I am on about, read the chapter again, lol.). Does anyone else have that trouble? Who likes the story?