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Prince Jareth, thirteenth son of the High King of the faerie lands, was thirteen years old when he first met his betrothed, Sarah Williams, daughter of Lord Robert Williams. Any boy of thirteen is not usually particularly interested in getting married, whether they be faerie, human, troll, or any of the other many species you might find Underground, and Jareth was no different. He would much rather be off having adventures, riding dragons, discovering treasure, fighting pirates. But his mother had told him this was very important to the kingdom, tensions between the human and faerie lands had been high for a long time, and this marriage could bring peace between them. He did not really understand how two people getting married could stop people being angry at each other, but he liked to make his mother happy, and they would not have to get married until they were grown-ups, which was forever away.
Well, that’s how it feels when you’re thirteen.
On the day they met, the weather was perfect, with the sun shining on the queen’s garden where the tea party had been set up to celebrate the arrangement of their marriage. Their parents gently nudged them towards each other and Jareth’s mother gave him an expectant look.
He turned to Sarah and was relieved that he had been right when he had guessed that his older brothers’ stories of humans being nightmare monsters were probably made up just to tease or frighten him. He was not really foolish enough to believe his brothers, but it was nice to confirm she was a perfectly ordinary girl. She had been dressed in a frilly pink dress, her dark brown hair pinned carefully atop her head, her round ears and straight teeth, different to a faerie’s sharp ones, would take some getting used to, but he did not find them as repulsive as some people seemed to. She curtsied in response to his bow.
“It’s nice to meet you,” he held out his hand to hold hers, blinking slowly when she simply gave it a considering look in response.
Lord Williams cleared his throat, watching her.
She frowned slightly, looking up at her father, then back up at Jareth, he had a very bad feeling he was in trouble, and then she lunged forward at his still outheld hand, biting it.
He yelled out in pain. Considering her teeth weren’t that sharp, that didn’t stop her from using them well.
Lord Williams looked at his daughter, horrified, and pulled her back, “Sarah!”
Lady Williams had turned very pale and quickly turned to the King and Queen, “We’re so sorry, your majesties, she’s,” but she was interrupted as Sarah wriggled out of her father’s grasp and ran off into the garden, disappearing amongst the flowers.
Jareth watched her go, clutching his hand against his chest. “Is she feral?!”
“Jareth!” His mother frowned at him.
He frowned right back at her. “She bit me!”
His father almost seemed amused. “Well, we don’t want her to get lost in the garden, would you go and look for her?”
He looked between his parents, disbelieving, but he knew when he was being told to do something, not asked, so he stomped off into the garden as Lord and Lady Williams continued to apologise for Sarah’s outburst.
He walked around for a while and almost considered giving it up as a lost cause and going back to declare her lost in the garden forever, but then heard the crying. He froze, he had no idea what to do around crying people. Especially not girls. He had never even met a crying human girl before. He looked around and spotted the pink of her dress up in a tree. For a moment he forgot his fear and was impressed, she must have been quite good at climbing trees to get up there.
He walked up to the bottom of the tree trunk and looked up at her, trying to think of something to say.
He rubbed his hand. “Why did you bite me?”
The crying stopped abruptly for a moment, then her face appeared, and she glared at him, her cheeks tear stained, her eyes still watery. “I don’t want to marry you. I want to fall in love, like in a fairytale.”
He considered this, he hadn’t really been that bothered about falling in love himself, he knew his parents were in love and they seemed happy, but he’d known for as long as he could remember that someone would be picked for him, so he just hoped that they liked each other. And maybe they could go ride some dragons.
She probably didn’t want to hear that though.
“But this is important, isn’t it? Mother says there’ll be peace if we marry.”
Sarah pouted a little but was quiet for a moment, wiping tears from her cheeks. “I know.” She let out a big sigh.
He was trying to think of what to say next when she continued, “My mama died.”
He looked up at her in horror, then a little confusion.
She seemed to understand, because she clarified, looking down at her hands as she fidgeted with the skirt of her dress. “Papa remarried, the lady he’s with is my stepmother.”
Jareth slowly nodded, shocked. He couldn’t imagine how he would feel if his mother died. Surely the world would just end. “I… I’m so sorry.” He said softly, looking up at her.
She managed to give him a small smile. “Thank you.” She took a deep breath. “I know it’s not really true, because papa was sad too when she died, but sometimes I get scared that they want me to get married so they,” she frowned, her hands tightening into fists, “so they can start over without me.”
Jareth’s eyes widened and he quickly shook his head. “No!” He tried to step closer and realised there wasn’t really any way to reach her without climbing up to her, so awkwardly continued to stand at the base of the tree. “No, no one would ever want to get rid of you.”
She looked down at him, a little hesitant. “You think so?”
He nodded. “Well, you bit me, and I’m still here.”
She suddenly grinned. “That’s true.” She clambered down the tree until she stood on the ground with him, blossoms from the tree now stuck in her hair, and gave him an assessing look. “I guess that’s a good sign in a husband.”
He blinked at her in surprise, but she only grinned more and took his hand, which still bore her bite mark, and started dragging him back towards the garden party.
“Come on,” she said cheerfully, “I want some cake.”
They were not given very many opportunities to get to know each other before they got married as they were only allowed to meet a few times. The next was at a garden party when Jareth was fifteen and Sarah fourteen. Looking back Jareth could not remember what the party was for as they always seemed to be having these things. Someday he supposed he would have to get the hang of figuring out what each one’s purpose was. And he didn’t know the rules of who was invited to each one, but Sarah was invited to this one.
He found her at a water fountain, in a nice floral blue dress. He remembered thinking the last time they met that she looked quite ordinary, but he was struck now by the thought that she actually looked quite pretty, especially when she smiled at him. He was glad he had chosen his jacket with the nicest embroidery. He was going through an awkward growth spurt but thankfully the jacket still fit, and he’d managed to get his hair back into a ribbon without too may strands falling out.
He smiled back at her. “Hello, Sarah.”
“Jareth,” she grinned a little, “how’s your hand?”
He chuckled. “Miraculously it has healed in the two years since we saw each other last.” There was not even a scar, although he strangely wished there was, to have a physical reminder of that day. He absentmindedly touched the spot on his hand often enough as it was that his mother had started giving him odd looks for the habit.
Sarah laughed, “Well good, one boy I bit had to have his hand amputated you know.”
The way humans could tell such outright lies was terrifying sometimes. He grinned at her. “Oh, your bite is quite ferocious.”
She looked pleased, “Thank you.”
At this point they were approached by a girl about their age, perhaps a year older than Jareth, he thought he had met her before, but he could not quite remember her name, Mitsie, Mimsy, Maisie? He thought perhaps she was the daughter of a Duke or something like that. She barely glanced at Sarah but gave Jareth a smile and a curtsy.
“Prince Jareth, how lovely to see you again.”
He nodded and cleared his throat. “And you.” Whoever you are. “Have you met my fiancé? This is Lady Sarah.”
Sarah nodded, looking a little wary, “Nice to meet you.”
Maybe Mimsy nodded and looked back at Jareth, then spoke in a low voice as if Sarah would not be able to hear, even though she stood right next to them, “We were all quite surprised your father decided to go through with it and make you do this, of course.”
Jareth blinked slowly, he had known to expect some people might still be prejudiced and tensions would not resolve themselves overnight, but people did not usually just outright insult each other in public. Faeries especially seemed to like to compete to see who could give the most subtle insult, and the most successful kind was when you did not realise you had been offended until you got home later and all you could do about it was wallow alone in your outrage.
Perhaps this Mitsy girl had not mastered the art of the subtle insult yet. He just frowned at her slightly, “I am happy to do as my father wishes.”
Milly gave him a sympathetic smile. “Of course you are. Really, it’s very charitable of you.”
He glanced at Sarah and saw she was getting quite red in the face, he really needed to defuse the situation before Mimsy ended up on the receiving end of a nasty bite.
He shook his head. “I think you misunderstand the situation, I like Sarah.”
The girl raised her eyebrows, seemingly amused by the whole thing, “Like a master likes his dog.”
Jareth stared at her in shock and heard an outraged noise explode from Sarah to his right, but before he could do anything, bloody what’s-her-face twirled away and walked off into the crowd.
He turned to Sarah, “Sarah, I’m so sorry, she shouldn’t have said-,” but before he could finish speaking, he felt her hands on his chest pushing him back, and then he was falling back into the cold water of the fountain behind him.
By the time he had come back above the surface and finished coughing and spluttering and got his hair out of his face, Sarah had stomped off and his mother was staring down at him from the edge of the fountain, her hands on her hips.
“What did you do, Jareth?!”
“Me?!” He looked back at her, bewildered. “She pushed me in a fountain!” His cheeks turned pink as he saw the party guests watching him and giggling. “And I would like to get out now.”
His mother sighed. “Yes, alright, let’s get you inside.”
He slowly got out, dripping wet, shivering and feeling very sorry for himself. Damn Mitsy was the one who had said those awful things, he didn’t know how he was the one who’d ended up in the bloody fountain.
Sarah must have left the party after that as he didn’t see her again that day, and it was another year before they saw each other again so it was some time before he got any explanation for what had happened.
Apparently, it was not proper for them to be writing letters to each other, and even if it was, Jareth was not sure if he would, his pride still felt a little wounded from the fall into the fountain.
But soon enough their next meeting did come around. Their parents had arranged for them to have an engagement portrait done, and they stood in an open, sunlit room of the palace, both of them in matching outfits of white with detailed silver embroidery. Sarah looked very lovely, he liked the way her pinned up hair revealed her neck, and she had a very sweet shade of blush on her cheeks.
It was just a shame that she was frowning.
The portrait artist leaned hesitantly around his canvas, clearing his throat. “My – my lady, perhaps a more serene expression, a smile, even?”
This only made her scowl more. “I doubt I’ll be able to manage one in the presence of my fiancé.”
The poor painter looked at Jareth, at a loss and also rather scared, and Jareth decided to take pity him. “Why don’t you take a break, Mr Jove?”
“Mr Jovan, but yes, sire, thank you sire.” He stood up, bowing, and quickly left the room.
Jareth turned to Sarah and looked at her, but she crossed her arms and refused to look at him.
He sighed.
“Is this about the party last year? You’re the one who pushed me in the fountain.”
She turned to him sharply, furious, “Well, you deserved it!”
He threw up his hands, letting out a year’s worth of confusion, “Why?!”
“Because – because I expect awful people like her to say terrible things like she did, but you hardly defended me at all!”
“I – what?” He looked at her.
She scowled, clenching her fists. “I’m not allowed to defend myself properly without getting into trouble, but you’re allowed to, and you hardly said anything, and she got to walk off with the last word. And now people will think they can insult me and you won’t do anything about it.”
He frowned, thinking. He had tried to defend her, but it had truthfully been a bit of a weak defence, since he had been caught off guard. He sighed. “I suppose I didn’t see it that way… I… I’m sorry, she surprised me and I didn’t respond very well. I promise I’ll do better and make sure people know they can’t treat you that way.”
She blinked at him, obviously not having expected him to be so thoughtful. “Oh.” She blinked and her eyes looked a little teary. “Good. Thank you.” She lifted her chin.
“Good.” He watched her for a moment. “Do you… want a hug?”
Sarah blushed, but nodded and whispered, “Yes, please,” before moving forward and wrapping her arms around his waist.
Jareth felt his cheeks turning warm too as he wrapped his arms around her. It was a nice feeling, having her tucked close against his chest like this. It probably wasn’t very appropriate, he was lucky he’d managed to get them this moment alone, but he’d have to see if he could sneak a few more moments where he could get a hug before they were married and would be allowed to be alone together whenever they wanted. That was beginning to sound more and more appealing.
Eventually they reluctantly parted, Sarah giving him a soft smile, and Jareth called the painter back in. He looked relieved to see Sarah looking more peaceful and happily returned to his work. Jareth stood next to Sarah, one hand at her back, one hand holding hers, and ached the whole time to be closer to her.
The Spring after Jareth’s seventeenth birthday, Sarah and her family visited for the annual tournament that the palace hosted. It was mostly guards and a few staff that took part, but a few of the lords occasionally participated in the challenges, and even his older brothers had once or twice taken part in a joust or archery challenge.
They had only been able to briefly greet each other earlier, then his parents had taken Sarah’s family to sit in the shade of the stands at the sword fighting arena, while one of his brothers had shown up and insisted on taking him around to look at the other activities. It was quite a hot day for Spring and he would rather spend the time in the shade with Sarah, especially since she was wearing a very flattering green dress, but he knew Rydel, his brother, would only cause a fuss if he protested, so he went along with it and looked forward to when he could find Sarah later.
He mostly stayed quiet, let his brother talk and talk, about his land, about his wife, both of which he seemed to feel he had the same sense of ownership over, and about the competitors they saw. He seemed to think he could beat them all, but Jareth noticed he did not suggest actually taking part in anything.
Eventually they reached the sword fighting arena and stopped by the wooden fence, watching two guards duelling. Jareth looked around and spotted Sarah in the stands, sitting with their families in the royal box, using a floral-patterned fan to cool herself.
Apparently Rydel had noticed her too, as he said, “Oh, is this your little human wife-to-be?”
Jareth straightened, not liking his tone, but tried not to show any reaction. He kept his gaze on Sarah a moment longer, then turned to continue watching the duel. “Yes, that’s Lady Sarah, my fiancé,” he said calmly.
Rydel considered her for her moment, then grinned at Jareth, “Well, seems like you got lucky, she’s pretty for a human, bad enough father stuck you with his little human peace mission, it would be worse if you got an ugly one.”
The air was hot and humid, but Jareth was suddenly cold all over. His hands clenched on the wooden fence. He stared at his brother. He could hear Sarah’s voice clear in his mind.
And now people will think they can insult me and you won’t do anything about it.
He shook his head, he had made a promise that he would make sure people knew they could not treat her that way, and he would keep it.
“You can’t talk about her that way.”
His brother looked at him in surprise, then chuckled, amused. “It’s alright, little brother, you can be honest with me, you don’t have to be a gentleman about it.”
Jareth only glared more. “I am being honest. I do not like you speaking about Sarah or humans that way.”
Rydel’s own expression soured, and he looked at him silently for a moment. “Well, what will you do about it then?”
Jareth hadn’t really thought about it, but the answer fell out of his mouth. “I’ll duel you.”
Rydel leaned back, stunned into silence for a moment. “Really, brother, I’m sure that’s not necessary.”
But Jareth had made his decision, “We’ll duel,” he turned and walked over to the organiser of the duels who was checking his list of who had signed up and who won each fight, and declared to him, “My brother and I will be fighting the next duel.”
The man looked up and was obviously startled upon seeing the young prince and his brother trailing behind him, but quickly nodded, “Of course, my Prince. We’ll fetch you some swords.”
They were given swords, Rydel watching Jareth with a somewhat wary expression now. Jareth knew he had surprised his brother, but he would still be confident enough to think he would win. His brother did have more years of experience than him, but he knew he was too lazy to practice as much as he should. Jareth meanwhile enjoyed sword fighting and practiced quite often, and while his brother had more muscle than him and Jareth was still quite awkward and lanky, he could be quite quick and light on his feet. He would have a chance of winning if he was smart about it.
The previous duel came to an end and the two competitors bowed and left the arena, then Jareth and his brother were let in, there was a surprised silence from the crowd, then an excited cheer. Jareth turn to the royal box to bow, while his brother did the same, and saw the surprised look on his mother’s face. His father hid his emotions well, as usual, but he did lift his eyebrows with a slightly curious look. Sarah looked quite astonished but did smile and give him a little wave. He smiled back, bowing low, then turned to his brother.
They bowed to each other, then the duel was declared begun, and Jareth barely had a moment to prepare before Rydel lunged forward with his sword. Jareth dived to the side and spun to swipe his sword at his brother but he had already moved out of the way. They went back and forth like this for a while, almost catching each other, their swords clashing or just catching on their clothes. At one point Rydel did manage to tear the sleeve of Jareth’s shirt, which infuriated him. This was a very nice shirt, and he’d worn it just for Sarah. He looked at Rydel as they circled each other, he hadn’t been going easy on him, but he hadn’t been fighting as hard as he could have either. Maybe it was time to end the fight.
He lunged forward and saw his brother’s eyes widen for a moment before he fought back. He managed to almost slice at Rydel’s arm, catching him off guard and causing him to stumble back with a hiss, glaring at him. He stepped forward to lunge at Jareth again but he was too fast and kicked at his leg, unbalancing him. Before Rydel could get his balance back, Jareth knocked his wrist with the hilt of his sword, making his brother drop his sword, then kicked high, planting his foot against his brother’s chest, knocking him back. Dimly he registered the gasp of the crowd as Rydel fell back to the sandy ground, but he didn’t pay it much attention as he stepped forward, resting his foot on Rydel’s wrist so he couldn’t make a grab for the sword, then placing his own sword against Rydel’s neck.
He stared down at his brother. “Yield.”
Rydel stared up at him, gritting his teeth, obviously not wanting to get the words out, furious.
Jareth did not move. “Yield.” There was silence now in the arena around them.
Rydel let out a growl but nodded. “I yield.”
Jareth stepped back, nodding and watched him carefully as his brother stood up, brushing the sand off himself, the crowd slowly began to cheer, and he turned to the royal box to bow.
His mother had her hand against her chest, looking relieved, and his father actually looked impressed. Sarah was grinning, up out of her seat and cheering, and he laughed, raising his hand to wave to her, when suddenly he was pulled by the front of his shirt back to his brother.
Rydel glared at him. “You’re getting too arrogant now, little brother, don’t forget your place.”
Jareth only saw the glint of metal in sunlight, then all he knew was the pain over the left side of his face, he was dropped onto the ground as he heard screams, someone shouted his name, he clutched his face, he didn’t know if he was crying or if it was blood.
Someone was still screaming for him. Sarah?
It hurt so much.
He couldn’t remember anything after that.
When he next awoke, he was in his bedroom, nestled against a pile of soft pillows and tucked in with his softest blankets in his bed. The room was dimly lit, the curtains closed, although the windows must have been open to keep the room from getting too warm as the curtains moved slightly in the breeze. He could only see out of his right eye, the bandages he could feel over his left eye must have been obscuring his vision. At least he hoped that was the reason. Thankfully the pain was not so all-encompassing anymore, it was just a little sore.
As he started to more clearly make out the shapes in the room, he found his mother sitting in a chair at the side of his bed, and he let out a shaky breath in relief at not being alone.
“Mama,” his voice was weaker than he expected, but she still heard him and looked up quickly with a soft gasp, reaching over to hold his hand.
“Oh, my sweet boy,” she gently squeezed his hand, “I’m so glad you’re awake.”
He managed to squeeze her hand back. “How – how long have I been asleep?” He asked quietly.
“About a day, darling, the healer gave you a potion to let you sleep through the worst of the healing.” She said softly.
He weakly lifted a hand towards the bandages at his face, but did not touch them. “My… my eye…” He couldn’t bring himself to ask the question.
His mother gently squeezed his hand again, giving him a reassuring smile. “The healer says you should still be able to see through it, although your vision may not be as strong as it is in your other eye, and the scarring around your eye may take some time to heal.”
He slowly nodded, the relief almost overwhelming. Faeries were the type to judge you for the slightest imperfection, but he was just glad to still have his eye, he could get through some mockery if it did not look the same anymore. And he didn’t think Sarah would mind.
Sarah.
He looked at his mother again. “Is Sarah alright?”
She blinked, then smiled softly. “She was quite distressed of course, but she calmed once the healer said you’d be alright. She wanted to see you but… well before the healer had treated you it would have only made her worry more. She can see you when you’re feeling better.”
“I want to see her now.” He said, stubborn.
She looked at him, then her smile turned fonder, and he blushed, pulling his blanket closer.
“Her father has already taken her home; you can see her when you’re better.”
He wanted to protest more, but she helped him sit up a little and helped him drink some water, and then a potion to help with the pain, and then he laid back against the pillows, feeling sleep coming to take him over again.
A thought came to him. “What happened to Rydel?” He mumbled.
The queen paused, then continued tucking him into bed. “Your father sent him back to his home. He’s not to return.”
Jareth nodded. “Good. I don’t want him near Sarah.”
She looked at him, curious. “Near Sarah, darling?”
He yawned, his eyes heavy. “He can’t talk about her like that.”
“Like what?” She asked.
“I won’t say it.” He mumbled. “S’not nice.” He sighed, barely awake now. “So I duelled him.”
This seemed to have stunned her into silence, or if she did say anything in response, he did not know it, as he had fallen back asleep.
As much as he wanted to, Jareth did not get to see Sarah again before the wedding. His mother insisted that he got fully better first, and as well as physically healing from the injury this also seemed to involve getting used to his reduced vision in one eye. This took longer than expected, and they were getting closer and closer to the wedding, which was to take place quite soon after Sarah turned eighteen, and so his mother said they might as well wait until the wedding.
Jareth felt awful about it, as much as he wanted to see her, he remembered his mother saing Sarah had wanted to see him after he’d been hurt, and he knew it would have driven him crazy if he couldn’t see her after she’d been hurt, if that ever happened, although he certainly hoped it didn’t.
To make up for it, he tried to find a good wedding gift for her. He was exhausting himself looking for the perfect thing and was becoming quite anxious he wouldn’t find something in time, when he came across something in an antiques shop. It was a dainty rose gold circlet, with flower blossoms made of crystal dotted around its circumference. It reminded him of the day they’d met, when she’d clambered down from the tree with blossoms tangled in her hair.
He paid for it and took it to the royal jeweller, who said he could check with the tailor who was working on the dresses for the wedding and should have Sarah’s measurements and could make sure it fit her and would make sure she had it for the wedding day, so he left it with him, then nervously waited for the day itself.
When it arrived, he stood at the end of the ceremony hall next to the priest. The large windows of the hall let in plenty of sunlight, and he didn’t think they could have fit in any more flowers. He wore the nicest clothes he’d ever had made, and couldn’t stop fidgeting with the rings on his fingers. He watched the door at the other end of the aisle. The hall was full of people, but they were all a blur to him.
Eventually, the violinists in the corner began to play a soft melody, the crowd quieted, standing up, and the double doors were opened.
Sarah stepped through them, and Jareth had to stop himself from taking an involuntary step towards her. He had never seen anyone so stunning. She was a goddess.
She started walking forward, carefully holding an overflowing bouquet. Her dress was white, with a bodice embroidered with silver thread, a soft flowing white skirt, and puff sleeves falling off her shoulders. Her hair was pinned back from her face, but falling in curls down her back. He’d never seen it like that before but he liked it very much. And atop her head was the circlet he’d found for her, it fit just right, and looked just like he’d imagined it would. He smiled, and realised she was smiling right back at him. It was almost too much.
She reached him and handed her bouquet to someone else, he didn’t know who, he could only see her, then stood opposite him, looking up at him with a soft smile. “Hello,” she whispered.
“Hello,” he grinned, reaching out to hold her hands. “You’re beautiful.”
Her cheeks turned pink. “Thank you, so are you.” She gently squeezed his hands. “Thank you for the gift.”
“I’m glad you like it.” He said softly.
“I love it.” She whispered. “Are you alright?” She looked anxiously at his eye.
He’d forgotten in all his excitement to see her again to worry much about how it looked, and it had been healing well, but it must have looked different to her to how she had last seen him.
He gave her a reassuring smile. “I’m alright. I’m wonderful, actually.”
She smiled happily, then they both startled when the priest cleared his throat. They turned to look at him and found him waiting expectantly.
“Shall we begin?”
They both nodded, flustered, and he began the ceremony. He tried to commit it all to memory, but mostly he just remembered her hands in his, her smiling at him, placing the rings on each other’s fingers, and of course, the kiss at the end. It was very gentle, and her lips were very soft, and it was only brief, but he felt giddy afterwards.
He also remembered the moment when they were left alone briefly after the ceremony, when he took the opportunity to kiss her again and she giggled and held him close.
And after the nice food and the lovely dancing, when they retired to their room for the night, when he laid her down on the bed and kissed her and she held him close again and whispered for him to never let her go, he remembered that clearly too.