The Thorns Which It Bears

Love Me (Part 1)

Notes:

*Edited/Rewritten 9/21/2023

Jareth sprawled on his back over the dark covers of his stately bed. The curtains surrounding him swayed in the breeze from the large glassless windows. His hair splayed against his feather pillow, shirt falling open. With a snap of his fingers, his boots and stockings appeared on the cold wooden floor, a problem for whatever goblin saw to his room in the morning.

Time passed without notice as he replayed his victory in his mind. Sensing her in the mist before him. Hearing her rustling through the leaves. Her breathing coming in short hurried bursts as her heart pounded like a stampede of centaurs. Feeling the heat of her overexerted body before he touched her. The sensation of her becoming tangible as he found her arm in the white nothingness surrounding him. The elation and euphoria was unlike any other.

The starlit darkness that cloaked the world disappeared. Light crept over the windowsill as the sun rose on the horizon casting his bedroom in the pale pinks and golds of early morning. A new day dawned ushering in a new era.

He raised his hand, staring at the thin red line that graced his pale palm. Even hours later, adrenaline coursed through his body. He'd lain in bed basking in his triumph. Reliving the moment he had touched her, marked her dainty hand, and mixed his blood with her own. Their eyes met for one fleeting moment before she disappeared.

Tonight had been a revelation. The torrid love affairs of his past paled in comparison. They provided only passionate fires that faded as quickly as they sparked. He had experienced desire and lust. This was the first time he yearned. Seeing her after all these years, although briefly, had only stoked the embers of his resolve. He wanted her more than ever.

Time had been good to her and fate seemed to finally be turning in his favor. How beautiful she was even in fear. The greens and golds of her widened eyes were vibrant. Her parted lips pink and full were in dire need of kissing until they turned a deep shade of red. Her long hair wild after being snared by the greenery of her own making made it easy to imagine how she would look in the morning after a long night of indulgent debauchery. She looked every bit the part of woodland nymph caught in the snares of a satyr. Now if he could only see her in such a state with a sated glaze as she lay languidly beside him.

He could never be sure if his feelings were born of the bond he had secured or his own natural inclinations. Though it hardly mattered now anyway. What he felt was genuine regardless of its origins. He wanted Sarah no longer just because of her ties to the Labyrinth. He wanted to possess her body and soul.

His fingertip trailed along the scar he now shared with Sarah. Savoring their connection. He felt it stronger. He would be able to teleport directly to her now. His sigils rendered obsolete. The Labyrinth no longer able to hide her from him. He was one step closer. But there were other ways to strengthen their bond until she was his entirely. And the Labyrinth, through her, would be his once more.

Feelings of unease and confusion were twisting around his own elation. Poor sweet mortal. Ignorant to the ways of his world. She had but to ask and he would take all her vexations and perils away. Soon she would have nothing to fear and know only his devotion.

He would put her on a pedestal where no hardship could ever touch her. Her every whim carried out by his hand. And in return, she would ensure the kingdom's defenses and, hopefully someday, provide him with heirs to continue his legacy. What more could a mortal woman want?

His hand rested briefly on his chest before trailing lower as he thought of her. What was his Sarah doing right now? Was she thinking of him? He knew she was though her thoughts were unlikely to stray into fantasy as his did every time he imagined her lovely face. His fingers slipped under the waist of his breeches. He closed his eyes letting his mind drift into his own dreams of her lying next to him, under him. Dreams he hoped would soon be a reality.