Jareth's Return

Jareth(12)

Jareth was ashamed.

Kings didn't cry like this, they didn't have such uncouth displays of emotion. He had been living by this idea for ages; so why did it feel so good for him to cry with such abandon?

Maybe it wasn't the release of crying that he liked so much, but the woman in his arms. The steady, warm weight of Theodora that comforted him and pleased him as he mourned the loss of his would-be son, like he never had before.

He mourned that state of his kingdom, and loathed himself for the failure that he was. The feelings crashed down upon him, like a stampede, trampling him with every drop of a tear.

Jareth eventually was able to calm down and focus on small things. Things that could distract him from the tears.

The steady rhythm she had set as she rocked him.

Back and forth.

Theodora's hand still trailing in his hair and running over his back lightly. Too lightly sometimes, sending shivers down his back.

Back and forth.

Every once in a while, she sniffed and wiped her eyes, taking a deep breath.

Back and forth.

She didn't try to make him stop crying, just reminded him to breathe properly.

Back and forth.

His head resting on her shoulder, tears soaking her shirt above her heart.

Back and forth.

Jareth lost track of how long they stayed in the chair like that, he weeping and muttering obscenities at himself, and she, absorbing everything he said and returning to him nothing but strength.

Eventually, he cried himself out. The tears slowed and stopped and he could breathe again. He still held onto Theodora, feeling like she was the only thing keeping him anchored in sanity. After a short time of sitting in silence, the girl excused herself, disentangling from his grip.

She came back with a cool, damp washcloth, a dry one and a box of tissues. Jareth found it peculiar and humorous when his friend plugged her ears and turned around while he blew his nose.

While Jareth wiped his face with the cold cloth, Theodora spoke, "So, what did you want to do today?"

"Well," he spoke into the dry rag. "I was thinking that I could teach you more magic. Like, how to Shift."

"Really?" Her eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"Yes. I don't expect you to get it just now, but I can teach you how to clear your mind and other basics."

"Sweet! Okay, let's do it."

Jareth chuckled. "Might I suggest that you get dressed? At least, put on a pair of trousers." He laughed quite loudly when her face reddened and she bolted up the stairs. His laughter faded when he thought of the fact that he had her in his lap, with only the large t-shirt to protect her modesty.

He felt himself react to the image. Her body was desirable, he admitted. Plump and solid, not wispy like Goblin women were. She was shorter than he, only coming up to his chin. Theodora fit in his arms wonderfully. Those golden brown eyes that tossed his emotions around and burned with their own fire.

She was wonderful. Feisty, humorous, kind, and determined. Powerful, too, and he must also admit extremely fragile, with little to no confidence. A fact that Jareth wanted to negate and correct as soon as possible.

He was saved from his musings by the subject bouncing down the stairs in gray sweats and a black t shirt. She wore black quite often, he'd come to know.