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Within Dreams - Ch 29 - Laby Fan Fiction

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A LOVE THAT WILL LAST

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Days then weeks passed and Sarah's annoyance at Jareth's rejection grew first into anger as he resolutely continued to refuse her calls then gradually mellowed, before transforming into frantic anxiety as she realized he truly meant to ignore her regardless of her feelings on the matter. Moving into her eighth week of pregnancy didn't help her fretfulness or her nausea; her swollen, tender breasts and torso and rising hormones made her feel funky and out-of-whack. And what was with the constant peeing? She practically lived in the bathroom, everything she drank raced straight through her.

Sarah also noticed her skin's new shimmer stabilized: not getting brighter but not fading. She avoided direct sunlight when possible otherwise—massively weird staring from people. Kathy and Todd noticed as well, and after a serious discussion, they all asserted 'glow of pregnancy' to any who asked; though they still had no rational explanation. Sarah had her private suspicions which she hesitated to share, uncertain what the lasting results may be.

That was the other thing. She was dying to talk to Jareth about (and here she usually mentally gulped) their child quickening within her and the bizarre side effects. There ... she admitted it. She wanted to talk to Jareth about ... their child. So where the hell was he? Did he already know? How? Having figured it out, did he want nothing to do with her now?

'Don't think about that,' she told herself for the millionth time. Jareth probably loved kids. Tike-napping Goblin King—duh, sort of came with the job description ... didn't it? And on that track she still hadn't mentioned her pregnancy to Cassie or Georgia. Which she wasn't sure if or when she should; she tried imagining that conversation.

'You remember your son? That's right, the one I didn't choose to live and you probably still hate me just a little bit for that which you're right to do so because I'm just getting over hating myself even though you both don't technically know that entire part yet. Yeah, so, anyhow, his soul is back in its former, rightful body and he knocked me up on the day of Gerard's funeral of all days, so you sort of have non-blood related family on the way. How awesome is that?'

"Oh this is impossible..." Sarah moaned, wanting Jareth by her side to take all the problems away with a poof of glitter, among other reasons.

"Jareth, where are you?" Her next doctor's appointment was at the end of the week and an ultrasound was scheduled. Her doctor said they should be able to hear the baby's heart beating by then; it concurrently elated and freaked the shit out of her. Her baby ... their child...

"Jareth, you ass," she yelled to her apartment ceiling. "Why won't you answer me?" Desperate enough to overcome her embarrassment, it was time to call in the big guns, "Aphrodite!"

"Sarah?" The goddess appeared without delay, "What's wrong?"

"It's Jareth, he won't answer me."

"What?" Dee sat next to her on the couch, her face clearly surprised. Since their last conversation, Dee kept in regular contact with Sarah but not Jareth. She peeked in on him occasionally since then, but saw him either investigating Gerard's life or sulking—and good riddance! Enough with his arrogance and ingratitude! Her time was put to better use than convincing the obstinate fae of the direction of his heart. But this was news ... she thought he wanted Sarah's attention, why then ignore her?

"How long have you been calling him?"

"For weeks, everyday and nothing, not even a speckle of stupid glitter!"

"And you're just now telling me?" Dee scolded, her face puckered distastefully.

Looking suitably sheepish, Sarah ducked her head, "Sorry, I didn't want you to ... you know..."

"What? Help?"

"It's not like that, Dee. I was embarrassed." Sarah went on to explain the night she felt Jareth's presence, and how different she felt since then.

Dee pursed her lips, tapping a finger to her mouth, considering Sarah's information. "Sarah, may I try something?"

"What?" She asked, wary as she faced the goddess.

"A simple look into your soul, hon, won't hurt a bit."

"Okay..." Sarah sat vey still as Dee placed a hand flat over her rapidly thrumming heart and closed her eyes. A look of extreme focus drifted over Dee's face then she frowned, eyes snapping open to meet Sarah's apprehensive ones.

"Oh Hades, it's worse than I thought."

"The baby?" Sarah panicked. 'Oh God, not when I've just gotten attached to him!'

"No, not the baby, Jareth, what he's done," Dee replied quickly, soothing Sarah's fears while shaking her head at the Goblin King's rash behavior yet again. "He's ... well," she took Sarah's hands in her own, "he's set you free, hon."

"Set me free?" Sarah's brow furrowed, "What does that mean?"

"While I'm the only one who can create or destroy a soul mate bond, Jareth is an incredibly powerful fae and since he's your soul mate he was able to ... somehow with his magic ... thin your bond."

"Thin it? Not break?" She should be happy, shouldn't she? Shouldn't being set free make her happy? It's what she wanted, wasn't it? Why wasn't she deliriously ecstatic with joy at this news? Why, instead, did it make her stomach clench and her heart flop over like a dog playing dead?

"No, not broken, but he's quite a bit more ingenious than I imagined, and foolish. This will only bring you both heartache."

"Dee," she cried out, her fingernails digging into the goddess's palm, "You've got to help me! It can't end like this!"

"Why, Sarah?" She asked, her tone and eyes serious.

"Because..." 'I can't do this alone. I'm scared. I was wrong. He needs to know...'

"Yes?" Dee waited, watched conflicting emotions scroll through Sarah's fragile eyes.

"Because..." 'Because I miss him, because I can still feel the kiss he left behind weeks ago...'

"Why?" Dee squeezed her hands, physically urging Sarah to confess the truth clawing up from her soul.

"Because I love him, Dee," she whispered, the words barely audible but enough.

"Oh Sarah..." She pulled the stunned mortal into her arms. "I know and I'm glad you finally know too."

"I do, I really do," Sarah repeated, pulling back to face Dee at arm's length.

"I love Jareth, the Goblin King!" She said louder, smiling when the words lightened her heart for the first time in weeks. "I love him, Dee, and you've got to find him for me, tell him!"

"Of course I will hon! How could I not finish my work?" Dee stood up with a grin, cupping Sarah's chin, "You sit tight and I'll find him in a jiff."

"Thanks, Dee, for everything." After so much angst, she really meant it and Dee nodded.

"You're welcome, be right back!" She said, cheerful before zapping away, leaving Sarah to wait anxiously for word.

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Unfortunately for Dee, a Goblin King determined not to be found by anyone was just that—impossible to find. No amount of searching with her personal resources or those of others she knew, even the Fates, proved successful and she returned to Sarah hours later with disappointing news.

"What do you mean you can't find him? You're a freaking goddess!"

"Remember the point where I mentioned he's a powerful fae?" Dee shot back, "Well, he's very powerful and often rivals many gods' abilities, and he's sneaky."

"You've got to be kidding!" Sarah gaped, hands on her hips.

"Well if I were I'd be yanking a Goblin King out of my ass right about now, so ... hmm ... No, I'm not kidding, Sarah!" Dee shouted back, more irritated at the situation than the mortal. Could this get any more complicated?

"Excuse me?" she said, stunned at Dee's response.

"You heard me!" Dee crossed her arms over her chest, frowning. "I've done all I can think of right now. I'm sorry I can't find him, but unless you can think of a solution, it's up to Jareth to reveal himself."

"Oh no..." She slumped to her couch, dejected, her head dipping low. This was all her fault. If she hadn't taken so long to figure things out; hadn't rejected him so soundly the first time, had called him sooner. "He'll never know I love him, never now about..." She rubbed her slightly protruding belly which no longer allowed her to wear her skinny jeans or anything remotely tight around her waist.

"Look," Dee plopped next to her, "We'll think of something. You're still early, he'll find out in plenty of time."

"But what if he already knows and doesn't what to ... you know..." God, she couldn't even say it. How much did this suck?

"Be a father?"

"Yeah..."

"Sarah, that can't be it." Patting her thigh, Dee tried to comfort her. "I've seen Jareth's soul, he wants children, trust me."

"Oh..." she said in a small voice, having no other reply.

"Hang in there, hon. We'll find him. I'll keep working on this and you keep calling him."

"I will, promise." Really, what else could she do?

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And call for Jareth she did, every day, nearly every hour without answer for another week; her heart flagging with each implied rejection. Her hope deflated further until the day of her OBG-YN appointment; actually it was the ultrasound that diverged her path of despondency. As Sarah lie awkwardly on the exam table with her legs spread in the metal stir-ups, all and sundry of her nether area exposed to professional vision, and the ultrasound wand inserted into a place where such things should never, ever travel (really, who invented such things ... definitely not a woman); she observed her doctor staring intently at the ultrasound screen before smiling in triumph.

The doctor swiveled the miniature television in Sarah's direction and turned up the volume; and there was her future ... on the screen was a little, kind of kidney-shaped, black, gray and white blob with a pulsing flutter timed with the whooshing sound the doctor said was the heartbeat. It was her child.

No, it was their child.

She couldn't speak, good thing her doctor was experienced because she nodded at Sarah's watery, goofy expression as she kept professionally saying things like: everything looks good, on schedule, heartbeat is healthy though slightly faster than normal, good sized, approximately nine weeks, something about additional blood work cause she was anemic, and she was going to write her a prescription for high potency iron...

"But he's healthy, right?" Sarah asked, not really listening, all senses pinned on the monochrome screen holding her world.

"He?" Her doctor repeated with a little smile completely overlooked by Sarah. "He's doing wonderfully, Sarah. I'm more concerned about you."

"I'm fine," she replied, distracted, her head resting on its side as she watched and listened to her baby's heartbeat, "I'm perfect." And that's when hope revisited her. Calling for Jareth wasn't enough; he was missing it, missing his child's life and it was unfair, wrong. She could never forgive herself this if she did nothing to correct it.

New determination invigorated her, and she intolerantly finished playing obedient patient as a bold plan unfurled within her mind. If the spoiled brat wasn't going to answer her, was going to 'set her free' without asking her opinion on the matter (her newest opinion that is) then she'd just have to drag his glittery, leather-clad ass back whether he like it or not!

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Research was Sarah's constant friend for the next few days. She didn't mind; she was on a mission, had a clear direction. The proverbial bringing the mountain to Mohammad mindset and damn if she wasn't resolute to win. She beat the Goblin King at his own game the first time, she'd beat him again. Set her free would he? Stupid fae ... since when did he going around being all, give-up-ish? She'd show him; she'd hunt him down, compel him if she must, but he was going to hear what she had to say. Good thing she was financially savvy and a saver cause this plan was going to hurt her wallet a bit. That and Kathy practically fainted at details.

"Are you insane?"

"Aren't you supposed to be supportive? Best friends are supportive not insulting." She was suddenly relieved she decided to call Kathy rather than drop by her apartment after work.

"You are insane!"

"Kath, I've got to do this. Dee hasn't been able to find him and I can't wait around talking to air anymore." Sarah scowled. "I've got to do something!"

"I know, but flying to Ireland? By yourself? I'll come with you-"

"NO!" Sarah shouted then soften at Kathy's hurt gasp over the line, "Sorry but I've got to do this on my own."

"What about being pregnant?"

"I can fly, there aren't any complications. I've already cleared it with my doctor."

'Sort of,' she added to herself, the flying, not the 'to Ireland' part. But it's not like she was traveling to a third-world country rampant with malaria or mutated avian flu. Just drunken, surly Irishmen, no big; she'd get a nice hotel, avoid the public, wasn't going there for sight-seeing anyhow.

"But why can't you wait? Just a few months 'til the baby's born?"

"I can't, he'll miss it all and Samhain is in a couple of weeks. I need to be there before then."

"Samhain?"

"November eight, a week after Halloween the veil to the Underground is thinner for 24 hours. If Jareth won't respond to my calls then I'll force him to cross over to me," she said vehemently. (see a/n for Samhain info)

"Oh, Sarah, he'll be pissed."

"Maybe, maybe not, once he hears what I've got to say."

"And I can't talk you out of this?" Sarah sighed dramatically. "Yeah, I didn't think so. Why can't you have Dee zap you there instead? It'd be less dangerous and faster."

"It's hard to explain, Kath, but..." Sarah paused, "I have to do this myself. I guess you could say I need to do this the hard way."

"Why?"

"He can see the past in his crystals. I need him to know that, well, that I did this on my own, understand?"

"Yeah," Sarah practically heard her friend nodding, "I get that. Just promise to call me before you fly out."

"Okay."

"And when you get to Ireland, first thing!"

"Okay."

"And when you get to your hotel."

"Okay!"

"And when—"

"Kathy, stop! Please, I promise I'll keep you fully informed, but you've got to promise not to tell my family I'm away. My dad will have a heart attack!"

"Well, yeah!"

"Promise!"

"Alright, alright, I promise, you just get your butt back here a.s.a.p. I'm not going to be able to lie for long if they call."

"No more than a week tops."

"God, sometimes I really hate being your best friend, you know that?"

"I know; thanks though. You know I love you."

"Love you too."

Sarah hung up with a twinge of regret. She disliked putting Kathy in this position, but she trusted her to keep her secret for the time agreed. Now she just needed to make last minute arrangements with work, purchase her tickets, gather her supplies, pack her bags, and she'd be en route to Ireland ... alone. This had better work or she'd figure out a way to curse him for eternity.

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Sarah didn't bother to inform Dee of her plans; afraid the goddess would agree with Kathy and having the ability to stop her, would. That didn't stop Dee from figuring them out, however, as Sarah sneaked around the next week. Sometimes it was good to be a nearly all powerful goddess; once a mortal decided upon a direction it was simple for Dee to see the results. This time she opted to permit the secrecy, keeping her nose and opinions to herself; though she did closely watch over Sarah as she began her overseas journey. Wouldn't do having her currently favorite mortal get in over her head somewhere over the Atlantic or the green Isle of Erin...

No ... Dee smiled as she spied Sarah hustling through the early morning crowd at JFK International Airport, two middle sized bags slung over her shoulders. Looked like she packed light, just a quick hop to Ireland to lure her soul mate; Dee decided even though she didn't care for Sarah's rash decision, she did very much like her fervor in regards to Jareth. Whatever it took, Dee was going to make sure Sarah's scheme worked, behind the scenes as it were since Sarah needed this new romantic confidence. They might just get this right afterall.

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Sarah did her best to ignore the crush of airport travelers clustered with her at the boarding gate. She loved traveling when she could afford it (not this time) but hated the over-packed, cattle car attitude of the airplane industry. Glancing at her standing elbow neighbors, she saw identical glazed looks of weary, strained patience; the expression she long ago dubbed 'traveler's tolerance', a particular brand of fortitude known only to the public when dealing with airports, airlines and their various delays and frustrations. Likely she sported the same look, certainly felt like it.

'Just get on the plane, zone out for eight hours or so then you'll be in Dublin. Don't think about anything else until,' she chanted to herself as she shuffled forward in line, showed her passport again and boarding ticket, having already passing through security an hour ago. Finding her assigned coach seat, Sarah stowed her carry on bags and settled in for a long flight, her anxiety edging close to frantic whenever her thoughts spun off to Jareth.

'This'll work ... it has to. God I wish I could have a drink.'

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The international flight was everything she feared: crying babies, cramped legs, crappy food, nausea with numerous runs to the miniature bathroom (her seatmates loved her no doubt-she ignored the corner-eyed glares), no alcohol (but that was her personal issue plane or no plane), and jet lag extraordinaire. At least she didn't have to wait in baggage claim since she packed light, not exactly a vacation get-away. If her planned worked she'd know right off and the return ticket would be unnecessary; if not ... well ... who cared if she had clean underwear and room to pack souvenirs.

'Don't think like that!'she admonished herself for the thousandth time while squeezing through Dublin Airport working her way to the rental car section. Then her bladder protested, reminding her of her new shorter holding limits. Right, quick stop then rent an econo-box, and locate her inexpensive, reserved hotel room, and squat for the next couple of days until Samhain.

"God, Jareth, you're such a jerk for making me go to all this trouble," she muttered under her breath, spying an international sign for a women's restroom and adjusting her bags as she head in that direction. "You'd better fucking answer me this time."

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Two hours later, she checked into the West County Hotel just outside downtown Dublin and south of the airport. Her researched turned up this decent, affordable hotel with a location pointed in the correct direction since she'd be doing a lot of driving back and forth while she scouted out the territory before Samhain. Sarah realized she needed a few days to prepare, make sure the site was logistically feasible, but the thought of spending the next few days waiting for the right day to perform her rituals even with the preparations ... she didn't know how she'd keep occupied without going stir-crazy.

As it turned out her timetable almost ran out as she struggled with the final details. How to either stay in the rural area without anyone reporting her missing, or creep back after dark risking injury as she parked and hiked to the Hill of Tara, the ancient seat of the Irish High Kings and said to be an entrance to the Underground. After much internal debate, she decided driving back after sunset on Samhain presented her best way to insure no interruptions.

So she spent the next few days driving from her hotel to Tara and exploring the area in daylight until she felt comfortable enough to attempt a night sojourn. And hoped no one she'd chatted to while acting the part of an enthusiastic tourist happened to notice her rental car hidden on the side of the narrow road in a perfect pull-off she located for her nighttime excursion.

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Later the night of Samhain, several hours after the sun settled passed the horizon, a small green car zipped into that special hiding place off the N3 road which led onto a smaller dirt road. She followed it as far as possible knowing it meant less walking, which with her back hurting, her stomach complaining and her breasts still sore, any amount of reduced physical exertion was fine by her.

Grabbing her backpack which she liberated from one of her larger carry-on bags, Sarah triple checked her supplies, making sure nothing fell out or spilled before hiking the rest of the way using a small flashlight. Eager to start, she trudged through the underbrush at the edge of the road, knowing a broad clearing lie ahead; then she belated hoped no locals celebrated Samhain in the traditional manner at this ancient location.

"Cause that'll put a crimp in my plan..." she whispered to the night, adjusting her one-handed grip on the shoulder strap of her pack. So far only familiar night sounds of animals and insects greeted her; the thicket released its hold, abruptly revealing the clear swathe of manicured meadow leading up to the surprisingly unassuming low Hill of Tara cloaked in night.

Having already decided the Mound of Hostages presented the oldest and best possible location for her, Sarah snuck in that direction, thanking the Irish for suppressing modern expansion as it kept natural darkness heavy except for a few distant lights from near homes and buildings. No Samhain celebrators? Or perhaps she was too early ... midnight was a few hours away, did they wait until then? Not like she had any idea how modern Wiccans celebrated.

A low patch of grass near the simple stone entry way to the Mound of Hostages looked perfect; Sarah squatted, opened her pack and dug out her supplies. Unsure which ritual might work best, she chose a few to try and needed different supplies for each. The items in easy reach, Sarah set her pack a short distance from her, sat Indian-style, and picked up the large baggie of dried St. John's Wort. In the dark it reminded her of pot and she stifled a giggle. She must be desperate if she was sprinkling dried herbs in a circle around her in the dark half away around the world.

The circle of protection completed, the Wort an herbal dam against fairy mischief. The next two items were a small bottle of milk and a roll from a Dublin bakery, baked fresh this morning. Her stomach rumbled, the day old bread smelled good and she remembered she'd been too nervous and nauseated to eat dinner. Shaking off the acute hunger, she took a deep breath, sat up straight within the Wort circle, closed her eyes, and forced relaxation throughout her muscles. The short incantation she memorized days ago— didn't have anything better to do besides worry.

"Goddess Dana, in whose name I sing,

People of the hill and fairy ring-may your world be open to me.

I come in peace; so mote it be."

Her voice started weak but finished strong as she gained confidence feeling an energy zinging inside of her, not unlike getting zapped by static electricity. Tingling sang in her muscles, and she resisted the urge to fidget. Was this a bit how Jareth felt using his magic? Keeping her eyes closed for a few minutes, more from fear of being disappointed, Sarah eventually cracked a lid and saw ... the same Mound of Hostages protected by the mundane night.

"What? Oh come on." Resettling her position she spoke the incantation again, waited and ... still nothing.

"Fine, you wanna play hard ball, Jareth?" She said aloud, her voice bouncing back slightly from the walls of the ancient mound. Stretching for her backpack, she withdrew supplies for her second spell: a small silver bell, a white candle, and vial of rose oil. Working quickly and staying inside the Wort circle, she anointed the candle with the oil, lit it, announced her intentions to ask for a blessing from the fairies, rang the bell three times and said clearly into the night:

"When the bell rings, my spirit sings,

I call to the helpful fairies of light,

To bless me with their magic tonight."

She repeated this process twice more and waited as patiently as possible, refusing to check her watch; surely enough time passed. He must have heard her. Craning her head around, she used the flashlight to check the immediate area for any changes, even a glint of glitter to bolster her spirits.

"Jareth, where are you? I know you can hear me. Dammit!" She said, barely holding back her desire to shout; didn't want to alert any locals, get kicked off the property. This time she did check the time; she's been here two hours already; it was after ten o'clock.

"Time for the third one I guess." Trying for nonchalant, Sarah didn't believe her own ears. If this didn't work she had no other ideas. Her last incantation required no supplies; only the wish in her heart and by now she felt deeply a desire to call Jareth to her; whether to hug him or throttle him she hadn't decided.

"Okay, you can do this, Sarah," she said, popping her neck, shifting into a comfortable position cause her butt was numb from sitting on the cold ground so long, and put every iota of feeling in her words. If he didn't answer this last one...

Ancestors hear my voice, know my heart,

I think of you at the season's start,

Descendant from your honorable tree,

I am a proud member of your human family,

Come to me from beyond the veil. © Cat High

Time passed, she waited, recited it again, and only the wind responded to her prayer. Stunned, Sarah tried to comprehend what her watch kept reporting: eleven o'clock. How could this be? These were good spells! She'd researched for days, even talked with a Wiccan before she left New York. She'd preformed them correctly, could feel the magic coursing through her from the ground. Squinting in the dark, Sarah scanned the edge of the clearing for any sign of his presence. If her spells weren't the problem that only left...

"He's not coming. He's really not coming," she mumbled, astonished and collapsed to the ground, scattering herbs and offerings haphazardly. She lay on her side, sobbing into the sacred earth, uncaring who might find her. He didn't want her anymore. She really was too late.

"Jareth!"

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Her plaintive cries echoing from in front of the Mound of Hostages, Jareth watched as Sarah collapsed among the grass and offerings, her sobs reaching the copse of trees hiding him a short distance away. His fractured heart bled anew at the sting in her voice as she shouted his name to the night sky. The cool breeze shifted his white feather cloak, making his hair drift about his gaunt, pale face. Fervency burned in his mismatched eyes, never leaving Sarah's curled, moonlit form lying less than fifty feet from him. Jareth placed one hand to a nearby tree and leaning around as he stepped closer, tempted forward to Sarah but hesitating. Could he trust her outpouring of emotion? Doubt twisted him.

Hearing and feeling her first incantation wrought on such sacred grounds, the ancient magic drew him almost as strongly as Sarah's own need. Having ignored her previous, insistent calls these many days as he struggled to heal, Jareth felt the power she tapped into on Samhain woven with a new taste of magic. The same flavors he detected the night he released her. It attracted him so strongly it took every bit of his self-control not to rush to her side, gather her in his arms, and kiss their past away.

"Will you not go to her, Goblin King?" A feminine voice asked beside him. Recognizing it, Jareth didn't bother facing the speaker, scowling instead; he dug his fingers into the bark of the tree, dry flakes peeling free.

"I dare not, goddess."

"She calls for you," Dee said as she walked closer, standing next to him.

"She loves another," he replied bluntly, "She loves Gerard, not I." He glanced to her then; saw the concern and understanding in her eyes, the night's concealing giving way to both of their eyes without artificial assistance.

"So sure of this are you, Jareth? The Goblin King of before showed no hesitation, I wonder at it now?" She said, teasing.

"Because of your gift of remembrance I know all of his life, all which transpired between Sarah and Gerard. She feared me before, said as much to him. She avoided any mention of me most of her life."

"Hmm, true but she didn't know you as she knows you now. She has always loved you, even before she understood what it meant to love the Goblin King." Touching his shoulder gently, Dee leaned closer. "She chose you over Gerard and now has sought you out of her own will, refusing even my aid."

"I know. She is quite stubborn." Jareth's lips curled up at one corner.

"Go to her," she urged.

"As what? The Goblin King? Jareth? I released her because she wants neither, and I have learned lessons enough for one immortal life, Aphrodite. Allow me this." The defeat in his voice upset her as much as his reluctance to join Sarah.

"This what? Brooding? Denial? Depression? She is your match, Jareth. If you give her up now there will never be another."

"I don't deserve another, or want one," he snapped, yanking his hand from the tree as he spun to face Dee, pushing her hand from his arm. "Sarah is all I have ever wanted, all that I have truly loved! I understand that now. We cannot continue living this half life. That's why I set her free."

"Stop this ridiculous pouting and go to her Jareth!" Dee shouted, her arm outstretched and pointing in Sarah's direction. "She has important things to tell you, things you need to hear before you resign both of your fates." A moment passed of their intense staring then Jareth's head wilted and sank, his voice sounding exhausted.

"I don't know how," he said pitifully, "How do I go to her after what's happen, what I've done?"

"Go to her in forgiveness as a man in love," she answered in a gentle voice as she took his face in her hands. "Perhaps a bit more of Gerard survived than you like to think because the Jareth of old would've never hesitated. Use that to your advantage." Rising on her tiptoes, Dee kissed his brow, "For luck." Releasing him, she walked a few feet away then stopped, looking over her shoulder.

"Since I am the goddess of love, if I were you I'd accept that as good advice, Goblin King."

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Her sobbing muffled the swishing of his cape over the grass as he approached. She didn't sense the change in the atmosphere, the ionic charge as he neared her foetal position on the ground. And she certainly didn't hear the creak of his leather boots as he crouched next her, cloak billowing out around him. So when he spoke, his deep, baritone softly washing over her, Sarah first thought she imagined it, forcing him to repeat her name.

"Sarah, please, luv, look at me." Her sobbing abruptly ceased into a hitching breath, then slowly, she pivoted her head from the ground to meet his eyes. Grass and dirt clung to her dark hair and tear tracks marked her face and makeup. Jareth thought she never look so beautiful and took a deep breath to steady his thumping heart. To his vision she glimmered in the dark, full of life; the scent of peaches, fresh water and new magic inundated him, making him lightheaded.

"Jareth? You're really here?" She looked up to his white clad body, practically glowing in the night; so beautiful he shimmered.

"Yes, Sarah." Gods, he wanted to move, pull her to him but feared her rejection.

"I'm not dreaming again?" Slowly she sat up, wiping her eyes dry.

"Not unless I am as well, luv." Seeing her distraught tore at him, dare he believe she really did cry for him?

"Where were you? I've been calling you for weeks. Why wouldn't you answer me?"

"Sarah, I..." He bowed his head, ashamed, "I was afraid to answer."

"Why?" Brows furrowed, she leaned closer to him needing to be near. With his head down he didn't see her shift.

"Even Goblin Kings have hearts that can be broken," he whispered. She couldn't see his eyes, but his were lips a thin, blanched line.

"Oh God!" Unerringly, she propelled her body into his, embracing him with all she owned, knocking him to his back with a stunned, whooshing 'oof', her face buried in his chest she blurted:

"I'm so sorry, Jareth! I'vebeenanidiot. I'vemissedyou. I'msosoosorry! Iloveyou!"

"What did you say?" He asked in a deliberate voice having heard only two-thirds of her frantic speech, but the part he most wanted repeated was the last bit.

Raising her head from his chest, his arms securely banded around her torso, Sarah met his furrowed, confused eyes, "I said I'm sorry."

"Yes and the other part?"

"That I'm an idiot?" She asked halfheartedly.

"Most assuredly..." he smirked at her frown, "But I'm rather more interested in another part of your rant."

"I miss you?" She teased, knowing full well what he wanted her to repeat, but he wasn't getting it out of her so easily a second time.

"Not nearly as much as I missed you, luv," he replied, his hands drawing caresses on her lower back over her clothes. The sincerity in his eyes burned her, made her ashamed at withholding as she watched his Adam's apple bob. He was scared, she realized, probably at least as freaked as she, and had fewer loving assurances from her heaped upon her declaration of hate weeks ago. She really was cruel.

"I love you, Jareth," she said quietly, firmly, leaning forward from her position lying on his chest to place a chaste kiss upon his lips. From where their chests touched, she felt his heart rate speed up from that simple affirmation alone.

"Bloody hell, Sarah, I love you!" Impassioned, he rolled them over, pinning her safely beneath him. Wasn't about to let her get away ever again. She squeaked in protest and he pulled back, perplexed.

"Careful!" she cried out.

"Did I hurt you, precious?" Jareth scanned over her body, checking for injuries, and her heart thumped painfully at the alarmed look in his eyes.

'He called me precious ... I ... think I like that,' she thought as warmth spread from her groin at his very own pet name for her, and other things lightly grinding into her as he shifted his weight.

"No, you didn't hurt me," she said in a reassuring tone, "but I need to tell you something before anything else happens."

"Alright..." He sounded suspicious, guarding his emotions. Reaching up she cupped his cheek, smiling as his eyes fluttered shut at the loving caress. God, had she been so terrible to him that such a simple gesture brought him joy?

"Don't worry; it's good news." Taking a deep breath, she jumped in, "You're ... you're going to be a father, Jareth." His lids snapped open, his eyes keen. Had he heard her correctly? Staring down at her face less than a foot apart, he saw the truth reflected in her eyes, but stuttered mentally and verbally.

"I ... what?"

Smiling, she said, "You, Jareth, the Goblin King, are going to be a daddy." Then she pushed her torso up with her hands and kissed him again. "I'm pregnant and it's yours."

"Pregnant? Pregnant?"

"Yep!" She adored this vulnerable, bewildered expression on his face and decided she wanted to spend the rest of her life trying to coax this same look out whenever possible, even if it meant having two dozen children.

"B-but how...?"

"You don't really need me to give you a birds and the bees talk, do you?"

"Wh-? No, of course not but we only ... the one time ... and I'm fae ... so it should take years," he looked at her, "shouldn't it?"

"How should I know? I've never been pregnant before let alone by a fae."

"Well I should bloody well hope not!" He said with a growl, pouncing her back down to the ground, covering her exposed neck with licks and kisses as he worked his way to her mouth, his hips grinding into hers. "I'll be the only fae or man with that job description from now on."

"That's right, Jer... ath," she finished off to a strained look from him. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say—"

"It's fine, Sarah." Expression relaxed, he kissed her gently, "I've come to terms with all that I am, who I am."

"Really?" One brow cocked, she watched him.

"Yes, and though I doubted you before, your actions tonight prove how much you want me, only me," he murmured into her ear, his body pressed fully to hers.

"I do want you, so much, Jareth. I'm sorry it took me so long, but now I understand that everything I've felt, from the beginning, was originally because of you. I love you in whatever form you take." Kissing his temple, she added, "Always."

"My love," he whispered, bringing his lips to hers again as they clung to one another, hands recklessly pulling at clothing searching for bare skin as their passion ignited.

She was stunning in the moonlight; her naked flesh rendered before his eyes as his was to hers. Her scent, which so affected him, compounded as he dragged her sleeves from her shoulders, her pants from her legs. Comprehension dawned—Sarah was transforming, becoming fae with her own magic, likely due to the pregnancy, though he only guessed presently. The glow of her skin suffused with his as he assisted her nimble fingers in stripping him bare. To be one with her on the soil of his ancestors; he could not have schemed this better himself; this act would be tantamount to mortal marriage.

"Sarah, wait," He moaned, slowing his body's momentum towards the inevitable, intending to clarify the oncoming ramifications. Somehow his hands continued seeking out her nude flesh: her ripened breasts—she groaned when he brushed them, her beautiful widened hips filling his palms perfectly, her silken hair threading through his fingers. His perfect love, gorgeous! One of his knees slid between her legs without his command, and she spread open for him, her back arching.

"This place..."

"I know," she said between pants, "That's why I chose it." Her eyes, endless depths of black, met his; he felt her legs coil around his legs, slip up his buttocks and tighten, drawing him closer until the tip of his erection nudged her slick entrance.

"Great Danu ... Sarah!" he cried, hardly able to support his weight over her as his elbows started to buckle from the sensation of her welcoming him. She knew! She understood the seriousness of this act, here, and wanted him.

She really did love him.

"Please, Jareth, make love to me," she begged, her voice thick with lust, she grabbed his hips and pulled him toward her, making no secret of her intentions. "I love you!"

"I love you, Sarah!" He shouted as he willingly sheathed himself within her causing both to bodily shudder and sigh in relief. Then his arms did fail and he caught himself just before he crushed her; she embraced him with both arms and legs, holding him snug to her while he began a leisurely pace of thrusting.

Both knew they couldn't last long as their magics swirled together, combining and escalating their sensations rapidly. Clinging to him as Jareth's speed quickly increased, Sarah screamed as he groaned into her neck; both achieving climax as one as the Hill of Tara's ancient magic seeped into them healing their hearts and their soul mate bond.
Sarah and Jareth finally get their acts together.

I chose to set Samhain during the assumed astrological time rather than the passed down historical time. This is the time when the sun focuses directly upon the doorway of the Mound of Hostages.

A J/S romance.
© 2012 - 2024 jinx1764
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squibblyquill's avatar
very nicely climaxed