Amusements

Sarah gently set the invitation down on her dresser and looked over at Dax, who was already up on the bed and curling round himself in preparation for a long nap.
"What am I going to wear?" she wondered aloud, and instantly felt childish and embarassingly girly for expressing the question. As if it mattered anymore, at this stage, how she looked.

She brushed the tangles out of her long hair and, without thinking, caught it up in the back the way she used to when she was much younger, looking about for a clip. She found one in the bottom of her bag, and fastened it snugly against her head, then rooted through the pile of clothes that Gatch and his nymphs had brought. A misty green waterfall of a gown, heavy with a sprinkling of glass beads as clear as rainwater, rose to the surface of the heap as she searched. Sarah picked it up and held it in the sunlight before her.

It brought to mind cool hollows in deep still pools under steadily drinking willow trees. How on earth did the people who fashioned these clothes do it? She stepped out of her frothy yellow creation and into the green watered silk. She glanced at the pile again as she deftly tied the sash. A crimson gown like fire smouldered on top, partially covering a gray-green dress of mossy coolness that expressed the shadowy hollows of a cave beneath the mountains. A pale blue cloudscape of material spilled out under that, almost artistically folded in with a gleaming silver creation as slinky and sensual as a spring shower. Gossamer ribbons of cloth of the deepest black curled as elegantly as a shred of midnight near the bottom of the pile. It was amazing...Sarah had never seen such garments in all her life. If she'd been capable of designing costumes such as this back in the days when she worked for the theater, she would have been world-famous withing a matter of months.
Like a young girl, she twirled around in front of the mirror to admire the watery delight coursing over her womanly figure. She reached for her cosmetics bag, touching up her face and hiding the small wrinkles, the tiny blemish on her cheek, the bruise under her eye and the bruises on her lip.

There.
Perfect.

She looked down at Dax, snoring happily on the bed in the soft orange glow of the sunset. He at least was feeling no trepidation, no fear of the past and painful hopes for the future. Sarah impulsively reached down and picked up the small dog, cuddling him to her chest like a baby the way she had when they'd first found each other...and after every mean-spirited kick or blow that Ted had delivered to him. Dax made a soft mewling noise of irritation at having been awakened from his nap, but he was by nature a very affectionate fellow.
She set him down gently, tucking the coverlet over him with great love, and let herself out quietly.

The stairway down to the main hall was lit with small, ornate silver cages hanging here and there from brackets in the wall. Within each tiny gilded enclosure a single fairy cavorted and glowed on a velvet-covered swing. The muted light each one cast was scarely greater than a very bright firefly, but together their combined luminosity was bright enough to send the evening shadows flying.
Sarah's soft-slippered feet made no sound on the warm stone. She followed the smell of good food and wine down to the gaily decorated banquet hall. Jareth looked like a golden king (which, she reminded herself inwardly, he was), seated at the head of a long table laid out with fresh flowers and garlands of fragrant appleblossoms and cherry boughs. He rose to his feet as she entered, ever the cultured host, and extended his hand to her.

"Sarah. You look simply...enchanting."

She found she could not speak right away, so great was the lump in her throat. He held her hand in his and lightly spun her around, looking her over with satisfaction.

"The clothes of this realm suit you better than those unpleasant indigo pants you were wearing last week. What do you call them? Lee-vyes?"

Sarah smiled and blushed slightly. He smelled wonderful, even better than before, and the fairy-light in his mismatched eyes was every bit as sensual as in her darkest, most secret fantasies. Impulsively, she leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek, reveling in the tender brush of his golden hair against her face.

"Shall we sit?" he asked, gracefully indicating the empty chair beside him. Next to him, at one end of the table, not down the length and at the other end the way she'd seen royalty eat in movies. It was cozy and intimate, with no need to shout to one another to be heard. She lowered herself into the chair gratefully, inhaling the lucious scent of the fresh blossoms.

Jareth delicately pushed her chair closer to the table, then sat down himself in the beautifully carved throne of deepest ebony. The light from at least a thousand beeswax candles in little silver holders illuminated the room with more warmth and color than the noonday sun, and Sarah found that she could not stop staring at the reflections in her host's eyes. He did not look away.

A goblin with fuzzy orange hair poured a measure of wine for her to taste, and she obligingly lifted the glass to her lips, yearning to drown the feelings in her heart with something other than the warmth and tenderness she imagined she saw in her host's eyes. Jareth lifted his own glass in a silent toast to her and took a sip.

He regarded the ruby liquid in the light from the candles and said, almost offhandedly, "There is no shame in admitting that you made an error, you know."

"What?"

"An error. In your judgment. You made a leap in the direction of love, an idealized view of love that you were hoping with all of your soul to be real. You jumped the wrong way, that is all. There is no reason in your world or mine for you to forget all the joy and the love that you experienced with your husband in the beginning, or for you to forget what it felt like to love someone else with the intensity that you did. The tragedy here is that he was unwilling or unable to return that love. But there is no shame here, Sarah. None whatsoever."

Sarah looked at the floor. She felt the familiar sting of tears again, and it made her heart ache.

"I know your pain."

"Do you?" she whispered, and Jareth laughed softly, ruefully.

"Better than you think. You left this place, broke my heart, and taught me something about the meaning of pain. But when you went away to live your life and play with your toys and costumes and marry the dashing dancer and make a go of it in the world, I remained."

She raised her eyes to meet his, and he leaned closer to her, the warmth of his breath against her moist cheek.

"I remained, Sarah. I remained, bitter and broken and brooding, loving only you while all the world fell down, just as I promised I would."

Sarah rested her head against his shoulder and let the tears come silently, bathing the wounds of her soul with a healing potency that made her sigh with misery and relief.

"I am so..."

"Sorry? No, don't be sorry, Sarah. Just as you broke me, you taught me as well."

"What could I possibly have taught you? I was a stupid little girl and I behaved badly."

"You were a beautiful, strong young girl on the bright edge of womanhood. You made me question whether I wanted - "

"Turkey or fish, your Highnesses?" a goblin broke in cheerfully, pushing a heaping platter between the two of them. Sarah stifled a small giggle at the look that came into Jareth's eyes at the intrusion, a kind of exasperation she'd seen on her father's face many times when she was growing up.

"Oh hang it all, Kibblick, you are such an irritation sometimes. Leave the platter, thanks."

Sarah touched his arm.

"Whether you wanted?"

Jareth's expression softened, and as always happened when he was feeling gentle, he looked slightly petulant.

"Whether I wanted to force love to alter itself to suit me or alter myself to suit love."

Sarah's heart caught in her mouth. What an incredibly romantic and unexpected thing for him to say, and so well-timed. She trailed her fingertips down to caress the back of his hand, looking steadily into those haunted, haunting eyes.

"And now?" she promted.

"And now, Sarah, I think you've already been altered by your foolish decisions. You'll suit me well."

Sarah stared at him. Was he serious? All of the tender words and the veneer or reasonableness and repentance and understanding were suddenly eclipsed by his incredible pig-headedness. She wanted to stab him with the cutlery.

"Altered?" she asked dangerously. Jareth smiled, giving every indication of being the perfect gentleman.

"Damaged, altered...you select the proper designation. Sarah, my Sarah. You needed to be broken before you could truly return to me."

"You act like I did this on purpose! Like I somehow wanted to be abused so that I could make myself a better..." she searched for the proper word.

"Lover?" Jareth ventured, amusement lighting his eyes. Sarah glared at him.

"You wish!"

"Well, didn't you? The mistakes you made were so extravagantly glaring that they had to be intentional. I mean, what human from your world could fail so miserably by accident?"

"How dare you! You're insane!"

He raised an eyebrow, a quizzical smile on his handsome lips.

"Are you in love with me, Sarah?"

The question took her by surprise, and a heady blush rose in her cheeks.

"I - "

"Answer the question, girl! It's a simple one, after all. Are you in love with me?"

Sarah fell silent, turning her attention to the food on the plate before her to buy herself some time. She took a bite of turkey, some fish, a large spoonful of potatoes. Mixing her food together like she used to when she was younger, taking a large drink of the wine and almost immediately choking on it. Jareth watched her, amused, as she recovered and glared at him, holding a napkin to her lips.

"Watching you eat is almost as sensual as swimming naked through a tub of worms." he commented drily. Sarah took another bite, determined not to be baited this time. After a while, he joined her, his manners impeccable. She felt foolish suddenly, and put down her fork.

"I am." She whispered, barely audible. Jareth paused, setting down his goblet.

"Indeed?"

"Yes."

"Say it. Say it aloud so you can hear yourself. Then perhaps we can dispense with your irritating sensitivities and your foul attitude toward me."

He was the most arrogant, infuriating...

"I am in love with you." Sarah found herself saying through her anger, and the moment the words were out she knew that they were the truest she had ever spoken. With fluid grace, he reached over and placed his hand on hers.

"I know." He answered, and without so much as a second glance, returned his attention to the feast. Sarah glared at him, hating how gorgeous he looked in the firelight and how desperately she wanted to throw him bodily to the floor and tear his clothing off with her bare hands.

"Your mind is an open book here, Sarah. Remember that." Jareth said, smirking. He favored her with a glance, "My clothing is far too expensive to treat in such a wanton manner. It would be a better idea to wait til after dinner."

"You bastard! How dare you - "

"Temper, my dear! After dinner, when we have danced in the garden to the music of the fauns and you've kissed me with all the lust I see burning there in your eyes, THAT will be the proper time to retire to my chambers, where you are welcome to beg me to make love to you until dawn. And I may, if you plead prettily enough. But not now. You should eat. Your dinner is getting cold."

Sarah's mouth hung open a fraction of an inch in shock, and she was struck absolutely speechless with rage. She tried for a full minute to get her voice back, then gave up and angrily reached for her wine glass again, draining it.

Dinner progressed in total silence, one diner looking mutinous, the other wearing an expression of sublime delight. Nothing seemed to please the Goblin King more than causing his dark-haired companion to descend into apoplectic fury.

Sarah couldn't stop staring at him. She was distracted by how compelling the idea of making love until dawn seemed.

How could so much love and so much loathing live side by side in the same heart? It made no sense!

He was, simply put, the devil.