Well, six months have gone by since I’ve updated this blog. It’s been about that long since I posted an update. I just don’t have a good excuse for you except that I have to completely rework my next few chapters (the last in Summer Solstice) after scraping them entirely. Then my muse went missing so my writing became nonexistent. Slowly, but surely, I’ve started writing again. For your patience, I’ve got just a taste of what the next chapter has in store for you. Enjoy!
While Sarah was busy with her planning, Jareth’s frustration with their current living situation was growing. The evenings were glorious and, he had to admit, he loved waking up with his beloved Sarah beside him. However, he hated letting her go back to his brother’s kingdom come the dawn. It didn’t help things that he felt, for the first time in his life, inadequate. What would happen if she should decide to leave? Would she even tell him?
Of course, whenever Jareth felt a crisis of confidence – a rare thing, to be sure – his mood would grow more and more foul. May the Gods help the poor fool who crossed him. Today was no exception. With a kick, Jareth sent one of his goblins hurling out the window.
“Little cretin!” he bellowed. “If you dare piss on my throne again, you shall find I will be much less generous.”
Clapping from behind him alerted him to the presence of another. He turned to see Fagan standing there, his eyes mirthful as they looked on at the humorous scene. “Good show, my brother.”
“Piss off!” Jareth snapped. He waved a hand and used magic to cleanse the seat of his power.
Flopping into it, he threw a leg over one arm and glowered at his brother.
“Rough morning?” Fagan ventured. At Jareth’s silent brooding, he put a finger to the side of his mouth. “Or is it more?”
Jareth shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Don’t you have something else you could be doing? Go bother your wretched fairies and leave me be.”
“What has you in such a mood? Is it Sarah? Is there trouble in paradise already?” Jareth looked away. “Wait! You’re worried, aren’t you? You think Sarah is going to wake up one day and decide she would rather have her old mortal life. Do you really have such little faith in her?”
“No…yes…I don’t know.”
“Why don’t we grab a pint and you can tell me all about it?”
Jareth stared at his brother. “It’s nine o’clock in the morning.”
“You can reorder time, my brother. Surely it must be five o’clock somewhere.”
Liam studied the board with such focus, one would assume he was plotting his next move. Well, he was, but it was his next move with his lovely companion and not the game that captured his attention. They’d kept to his word ever since the trial of his sister. The two of them had continued to learn each other as friends. As a consequence, their relationship had deepened into something so much more than mere friendship. Liam felt that forever would not be enough time with his Stephanie. Which brings us back to his current conundrum. How should he tell her that he was ready for more? Would she want that, too?
“Are you going to make a move or are you going to sit and stare at the board all day?” Stephanie asked, amusement coloring her expression.
“Where’d you go? I asked if you were going to make a move or not.”
Stephanie giggled and shook her head, pointing at the unfinished game of chess before them. “It’s your move.”
Sarah pulled on her linen night shift, relishing the cool fabric as it touched her heated skin. The weather had been unbearably hot recently, perfectly matching her temper. She’d been out of sorts ever since her fight with the Goblin King. She could only hope he was as miserable as her. More, since it was all his fault in the first place. She sighed and slipped between the sheets of her lonely bed. It sucked sleeping alone in her old room. She punched her pillow in frustration.
“Damn you, Jareth,” she groaned in the empty room. It felt like hours before she finally fell into a broken slumber. As she finally drifted off to sleep, she whispered, “I miss you.”
Sarah would have been amused, and a little vindicated, if she knew that Jareth was having similar problems. Try as he might, he couldn’t fall asleep. His bed felt too big, too uncomfortable, without Sarah’s soft body next to his own. As he tossed and turned, he cursed his temper and stubborn nature – almost as much as he cursed Sarah herself. She’d made a fool out of him in front of his subjects. No one had a right to do that, no matter how much he was in love with that person.
“Ah, Sarah-mine. Come back to me,” he whispered, as sleep finally took him.
“I told you, don’t move,” admonished the seamstress.
Sarah rubbed her sore bottom. What the hell did she need a bustle for anyway? It felt like she’d been standing in front of these blasted three-way mirrors for hours. This was supposed to be the final fitting, but the designer had decided that the gown needed a bustle to complete the look. She looked over to Allie and silently cursed her friend. She’d been done an hour ago and was currently lounging in her chemise and dressing gown.
Sarah turned to see her five goblin friends just as she felt another needle poke her in a very sensitive place. “Ouch!”
“You move, you get poked,” mumbled the seamstress through a mouthful of pins.