In the Eyes of the Queen [ Labyrinth ] ✔

Chapter Fourteen

Trying to coax myself back into sleep, I snuggle into my bedding. It almost works: I lay in my favorite position; my surroundings are warm and comfortable, but something is wrong. I slowly become aware of familiar sensations that should not be familiar. This is not my mattress. These are not my sheets. Those are not my blankets. And this is not my pillow. No, this is not a pillow at all, is it?

My eyes fly open as I realize I am lying against a body. A firm, warm, delicious-smelling body. I jerk back and my gaze falls on Jareth. Without opening his eyes he tightens his grip on me. His firm hold immobilizes my path backward. I feel my cheeks burn and I silently chastise myself for thinking my silly dreams were inappropriate. They were the dreams of a child, after all, and never progressed very far, in terms of intimacy. This compromising position is much worse to experience in reality. And what is worse is that I know it is not all that compromising, yet.

"Calm down."

I wonder if those words contain magic because immediately my eyes close and my body relaxes in his embrace and my quickened heartbeat begins to slow. I concentrate on breathing. In. Out. In. Out. I can do this; I am an experienced meditator.

"That's it, love."

His voice so close to my ear sends a strange sensation down my spine and I cannot help physically shivering. My almost calm heartbeat is returning to its previously fast pace.

He chuckles softly, presumably at my reaction, but that only makes things worse. I begin to struggle out of his grip and he tries shushing me through his laughter, but I ignore him and break out of his arms. Immediately I roll over, sit up, and curl my legs beneath me, but suddenly I find myself frozen in place.

Jareth is in the throes of laughter. I feel my cheeks warm indignantly. He is laughing at me.

He is laughing at me.

Wait. He is laughing?

The laughter betrays no evil, condescension, scheming, or victory. I stare, sure my gaze betrays the fact I think he has gone insane.

His body slowly stops shaking as his laughter quiets and I hear him draw in a few ragged breaths. Suddenly, he seems to remember who he is and who he is with. His face returns to its usual expression and his body stiffens. I am still staring at him as if he is insane.

He sits up and drapes his legs over the edge of the bed, facing away from me. I am inexplicably drawn to curiosity. What face is he making right now? What is he thinking? What was that episode of laughter about?

I slowly crawl toward him, fear and intrigue battling within me. He does not indicate that he notices my movement, but I am sure he is aware of it. When I reach the side of the bed, I cannot yet bring myself to look at him, so I swing my legs off the edge and sit next to him in silence, bowing my head. I see that I am still as dressed as I was when I fell asleep in the sitting room, but feel that my hair has fallen out of the bun.

Inquisitiveness winning over trepidation, I turn my head just enough and look up through my eyelashes. His face remains neutral, but his eyes betray emotion. I am suddenly aware that his eyes have always betrayed his emotions despite his controlled facial expressions. The observation does me no good, though, because I cannot ascertain what emotions his eyes betray.

I stare, trying unsuccessfully to read his eyes for some time before I recognize amusement glistening within them. I realize he has been returning my gaze for a while.

My indignation returns. "What, pray tell, is so amusing?" I say through gritted teeth.

Something flashes in Jareth's eyes, but it is gone before I can determine what it is. He breaks our mutual gaze as he rises silently, moving toward the door in graceful steps.

As he crosses the threshold, Jareth turns his face halfway to me. "Sarah, Sarah. You are what is 'so amusing,' my dear."

I have no time to respond before he disappears beyond the doorway, but I could not have anyway. Hearing my name pass his lips again makes a strange feeling swell in the base of my stomach. It is partly nostalgic, but I try not to name the other emotions. Jareth is bad for my mental health. 'Unless he returns your affection,' my sly inner voice adds, but I quell it. Replaying my interactions with him when I wished Toby away has led me to believe he was attracted to me, even if only in that involuntary chemical reaction kind of way, but whether or not he still is is not so important as whether or not he forgives me, and I think the likelihood is not. That would be a lot easier to suffer through if I had not already, against my better judgment, forgiven his selfish pride in asking me to have to choose between him and my family.

Yesterday Jareth was rather elusive (or maybe I was hiding), so I was unable to determine if he had developed a more specific task for me to accomplish in order to win our game. I have to find the answers to my questions and determine how to return home, as soon as possible.

I stand up, and the potential boredom of the day accosts me. What am I going to do? I suppose gazing at the Labyrinth might prove a diversion for a while, but even that will not last me all day if my thoughts continue to intrude. I walk to the window to look out on the ever-changing realm. I feel a little uncomfortable and divert my thoughts to pursuing the reason. Quickly I realize I, though no longer (fully) in the same clothes I arrived in, have not bathed in days. How repulsive. I have never been so long without a bath. I suppose it is fitting, considering the filth of the goblins in whose land I reside, to be filthy myself.

"Ugh." Taking a bath is almost the last thing I want to do in the Goblin King's castle.

"'Ugh'?"

I whirl around. Jareth has returned to the doorway in new clothes and with his usual self-assured manner restored.

I really do not want to tell him the subject of my thoughts, but how else am I going to take a bath? "I need to... take a bath."

He laughs quietly and I swear I hear him say something about smelling sweet no matter what. I glare at him.

He motions to one of the narrower doors and I go as directed. Behind the door is a spacious bath room, with a raised stone pool full of steaming water. Several vials, presumably soaps, and numerous fluffy towels line short two shelves on one wall.

Against my better judgment, I relax in the bath. The water is the perfect temperature and the soap the perfect scent. When my fingers begin to prune, I reluctantly decide to get out, and I find that the towels are soft. A long robe hangs on the wall near the door and so I slip into it after drying myself.

Tentatively opening the door, I am relieved to find myself alone. A long white dress is laid out on the bed with what I presume to be a thin petticoat that looks like it will make do as a bra as well. Relieved, but embarrassed, to see drawers have been provided as well, I set to work dressing.

Still barefoot, I exit to the sitting room, where I know I will be more comfortable. I let my hair loose as I go, planning on setting to work on it the best I can.

"Your hair is... long."

I look up, startled. I had assumed I was alone. My first thought is the rather sarcastic, 'Yes, it's long. I know that. It's my hair,' but I refrain from speaking it aloud.

"Thank you?" 'Don't give me that look,' I chastise my inner voice, 'What should one say to such a comment?'

Jareth continues to stare as I seat myself, comb through my classic length hair with my fingers, and twist it back into a bun.

Apparently no longer mesmerized, he speaks up. "Do you want to explore the castle today?"

I would rather find out how to get out of here. I pause my determination momentarily, though, and think of a logical approach to my dilemma. I have to extract the information casually, not plead for it childishly. I let the multiple armies battle within me for a while as I return the Goblin King's gaze. I hope the war will produce a useable question or strategy.

Curiosity is winning.

"Why were you sleeping in my bed?"