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Courtesan	By : Lasski Category: G through L > Labyrinth Views: 15072 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Labyrinth, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Chapter 12 – The stink of guilt on the sheets.

                Sarah turned the door handle and opened the door. She had dressed in the uncomfortable silence, her stockings scrunched up in her hands as one of them was now destroyed beyond repair. Jareth staring at a wall, ignoring her made her feel more of a forgotten whore than it would have had he watched her dress. At least then she would know that he still wanted her. She would have positive proof that he still wanted her. Yet, why should she care? Jareth had obviously made his feeling quite clear, scathingly so. She turned to leave.

                It was strange, she mused, that things had turned out like this. Or perhaps not. Luckily, if Jareth won his independence for the Labyrinth – and why exactly did he want it? – she would hopefully never have to see him again. At least this time she wouldn’t be left with a longing for some world that she could not return to, driving herself insane at the same time with the craving for magick. ‘Or maybe you will be craving for something else…,’ a little voice hissed, and she mentally shook it away. She readied to leave.

                “Sarah, wait.” Though softly spoken the words seemed so loud at that moment.

                She paused, torn between ignoring him while walking out with her head held high, and turning back to him, her curiosity piqued. His tone was something she had heard only once before – that moment when she was reciting the words at the end of thirteen hours, and Jareth was promising her the world. Lies. All lies. Instead, she settled for someone inbetween. She kept her back to him, poised to leave, but her stance was attentive as she partially turned her head to listen.

                “I do not wish for us to part like this.” His voice was back to being conversational, the strange tone gone.

                That quickly her patience snapped. “Oh, don’t give me euphemisms, Jareth. You just want your turn to stick your dick in me.” She really couldn’t think of a more basic way of saying it, her anger still riding her hard, despite the fact that there may have been a partial apology in his words.

                Anyone else would have shifted nervously and looked away, perhaps blushing even. Jareth just looked right back at her. “Perhaps,” he did not dismiss her words. “But there are other reasons as well.”

                “Such as?”

                “Such as the fact that you are not satisfied, either.”

                Sarah spun around in disbelief of his words. “Not satisfied! I came twice, Jareth, harder than I ever have.”

                There was a telling moment of silence. Jareth’s lips curled up into his trademark smirk.

                Sarah suddenly snapped her mouth shut, stunned into silence by her own words. What in all of the Underground had she just said?

                He took predatory steps towards her, reached behind her, and pulled the door shut, and crowded her against the surface with his body. “And hasn’t that left you craving for more?” he whispered in her ear, his warm breath touching her, making her shiver. “Don’t you want to slide back in my bed so I can make you come… harder than you ever have before?”

                Oh he was cruel. He was forever using her own words against her. Where was her courtesan training? Where was her composure? Where was her strength to pull away from his seductive words?

                “Perhaps,” his lips touched the shell of her ear, “I should become your patron. I would chain you to my bed…” he mused and left it there, the sentence left half unsaid as if he had gone off in some private fantasy.

                Sarah’s breath caught. Patronage was offered to very few courtesans – it was an offer to pay continuously for the exclusive rights to a courtesan, a very expensive payout. She had only had the offer from one other man, but she had turned it down.

                “Perhaps,” Jareth said carefully, “you should stop being a courtesan.”

                What? Sarah’s mind froze before she shoved violently at Jareth. What games was he playing now? Patronage? Stop being a courtesan?            “Stop being a manipulative bastard,” she hissed “You want to fuck? Fine, we’ll fuck. If you don’t, we won’t.”

                Jareth grabbed her by the wrist and stopped her from moving away. “Oh, I want to. I just have more important things to attend to right now.”

                Ouch. That hurt.

                “Then what do you want, Jareth. Patronage? I don’t think so. Give up being a courtesan? I can’t. Zekial owns me. I gave my freedom to him in return for coming to the Underground. I have never regretted my choice” Until now…

                The silence was thick after that and Jareth seemed to realise exactly what he had had implied to her as his face twisted with an expression that Sarah didn’t like. Sarah relented a little. “If you want to, you can” she swallowed, “have me. You, as you have pointed out, have not come, yet.” She twisted her wrist within his hold and Jareth let her go.

                “No,” Jareth’s voice was so soft that Sarah had to concentrate to hear him. “I had hoped there would be other times to see to my satisfaction. And, as I said, I can’t right now. My advisor is coming soon for a prearranged meeting.”

                Confusion forced Sarah to look at him. He was so beautiful with the afternoon sun shining in his hair making golden highlights. His skin was smooth, and his lips were parted sensually to the heat of his mouth. His jaw was strong, and his throat stroked down to his chest which rose and fell with his breath. “Other times?” she repeated.

                ***

                ‘Other times?’ her words repeated in Jareth’s mind, and he questioned his sanity. Did he not promise himself one time with her to get her out of his system? Was he not to rut in her depths once and be done with her? What had happened to that plan; why had he played with her as he had, granting her release and himself none? What insanity had made him offer patronage? He didn’t want to keep her around.

                “Why not?” Jareth tossed out lightly, hoping to cover his last words. Patronage indeed. “Obviously, this time was not a long enough time period. I am here for days yet. There is time.”

                Sarah stiffened. “Very well. Another time. I wish to leave before your advisor comes.”

                “Indeed,” Jareth agreed. For some strange female reason that he could not comprehend Sarah seemed offended at his answer. He certainly didn’t want word to get around that the two of them were seen together. Neither, he assumed, did Sarah. Not that he believed Paul would talk, but secrets never seemed to stay secrets at court. Jareth didn’t even know why he tried to please her, her mood had been up and down the entire time she had been there.

                “Goodbye then,” Sarah said coldly, and Jareth let her leave without a word.

                After a few moments of regal contemplation, he flopped back on the bed in a very un-king-like manner, suddenly exhausted. As soon as Jareth hit the sheets, he knew he had made a mistake. The sheets stank of her. No doubt there was a wet patch which he was lying right on top of. It was all wrong. He should have never done this. He had regained control there for a moment, but as soon as the witch had turned to leave him he had opened his mouth and couldn’t stop the word from coming out. What was it about Sarah that threw his control to the wind? Bah! Better to keep clear of her, he had no use for the confusion she roused every time she came into his sphere of living. He knew he should bottle the emotion away and rise the cool king he always presented to everyone. Yet, the spark of annoyance was there and just this once he would act on it.

                In a fit of rage, he ripped the sheet from the bed, and his magick flared to burn them to ashes in seconds. The bedposts were burnt, and smoke rose up around the room. He quickly reigned in the urge to burn the rest of the room. Jareth snorted in frustration. Now, he would have to get a servant in to clean up the mess. What he really wanted was to change rooms, but word of the charred bed would spread quickly enough without adding fuel to the fire.

                Tomorrow the summit would begin, and Jareth would have better things to think of than lowly courtesans. He did not have to keep to their agreement. Why should he, a king, have to consort with a courtesan?

                ***

                Sarah stalked down the corridors glad that she came upon no one. She was absolutely disgusted with herself. At no time had she acted so despicable as what she just had since she had come to the Underground with the High Duke. If Zekial was to ever learn of her behaviour, not to mention the fact that it was with Jareth, he would have her thrown out onto the streets. How could she dishonour Zekial like this with her behaviour? Next time?! If there was to be a next time (and Sarah admitted sourly to herself that there would be), she would behave the courtesan, not the whore.

                No! Wait! There could not be a next time. It wasn’t only her behaviour – Jareth had treated her abominably. Never in all her time as a courtesan had she been treated with such outright scorn, taunting and disrespect. She was the greatest courtesan of her time. Men (and some women) worshipped the ground she walked on. She could command with a look, a touch. No, there would be no next time because this courtesan was better than a king of labyrinths.

                ***

                Carrick and Paul were squashed up against one another in an alcove in the hallway, hoping they were keeping as still and forgettable as the statues they were pretending to be. They held their breath as Sarah exited the door and thankfully walked down the corridor in the opposite direction.

                “If that is your hand on my arse…,” Paul threatened in a whisper.

                Carrick chuckled under his breath and gave Paul’s butt check a squeeze. Had they both not been feared of being spotted, Paul would have given him a good shove. Instead he grunted and gave Carrick a sharp jab.

                Carrick sucked in a pained breath, but that didn’t stop him from laughing under his breath. He swore from the way Paul shoulder’s were shaking that the first advisor was holding in his humour as well. They both struggled to stay hidden while Sarah walked down the corridor and out of sight. The moment she was gone, Paul jumped down from the alcove and glared at Carrick. “For your information, I am very straight,” he announced in a low tone. Jareth had very good hearing, and the room wasn’t far away.

                Carrick smirked. “How do you know, unless you’ve tried the other side?”

                “Never said that I haven’t.”

                Carrick chuckled and gave Paul a friendly punch on the arm.

                “Wait,” Paul hissed as he sensed something was out of place, and both men fell silent and alert. There was a noise, like clothing moving as someone shifted. ‘Hear that?’ Paul mouthed but Carrick was already nodding. Together they moved down the corridor towards where they heard the sound. Suddenly, a figure in a dark cloak jumped down and sprinted off down the corridor. Paul and Carrick gave chase.

                They followed the intruder down a series of corridors, passing a few people who flattened themselves against walls to get out of the way of the people barreling past. Whoever it was, was small and fast, and the men began struggling to keep up. “Shit, we’re loosing him.” Carrick swore. They rounded a corner just in time to see the figure slip into a room.

                They slammed into the door, twisting the handle, but it was locked. “Damn it,” Paul thumped the wood. Carrick fell to his knees and pulled a few strange looking pins from inside his coat. Paul raised an enquiring eyebrow but said nothing. Picking the lock, the courtesan had it open within seconds, Paul pushing the door open. The last thing they saw of the figure was the dark shape jumping out of the window. They ran to the edge, but there was no one to see either below or above them.

                “Damn it!” Paul yelled again. “Where are the palace guards when they’re needed?”

                “Never around,” Carrick agreed dolefully.

                “Go alert them. Tell them that the security around the Goblin King’s private chambers has been compromised. Inform High Duke Zekial as well.” An understanding look passed between the two men. “I’ll inform Jareth. Who knows how long that person was spying for and what else he has seen.”

                “Or she,” Carrick added.

                “Or she.”

                Both men left to go to their respective lords.

                ***

                The elvin boy panted as he continued running to his destination. He was glad that he was told to set up an escape route beforehand, otherwise those two men would have caught him. He had already thought up a cover story should he be caught – after all he was only eleven, and he was sure that kids in the palace were getting into trouble all over the place. After all the rich ones didn’t But he had escaped, and he was definitely thinking of taking up a career in spying. He would be greatest spy who ever lived. He was getting paid for this as well. All it took was dodging past some guards, finding the right room, and listening to a couple of people have really loud sex and the dodgy conversation afterwards. Yeah, this was definitely easy pickings. Yet, he did admit that he felt a lot more comfortable when he was back out in the city rather than the palace grounds, and perhaps it might have been harder to convince palace guards that he was only running around when he was rather – dirty. Ok. Filthy might have been the word, but not as bad as some of the people on the streets, and he didn’t smell that bad.

                The boy quickly made his way to the rendezvous point where the man was waiting. He had known from the first moment that the man was high born, but it had been a little bit later that he caught on that the man was a priest. But whoever it was, was elvin – he had seen the ears – and that meant they were both the same. It was the reason why the boy had agreed to the deal.

                “Well?” the man demanded. “What did you find out?”

                The boy related as much as what he could remember. That the people in the room had sex. That they fought but had come to the agreement to see each other ever again, even if the woman did seem angry when she was walking out. Also about the men who chased him.

                “You were caught?” the man hissed.

                “I’m here, aren’t I?” the boy rolled his eyes. “They saw me but, I got away. They wouldn’t be able to recognize me anyway, I was wearing a cloak.” He picked up the material around him to prove it.

                The man snorted but accepted the answer. “You want your payment, I suppose” the priest said and the boy nodded. He was unprepared for the backhanded slap to his face. He fell to the floor, dizzy and couldn’t fight back when the man dragged him back up and shoved him face first over the table, yanking down his pants. It was quick and brutal with a complete lack of care for any innocence. When he was finished, Jani shoved the boy to the floor where he crawled away.

                As the boy crouched in a corner, shaking and shivering, Jani did up his pants and tossed a small bag of silver coins at the boy. “There’s your payment. Perhaps we can do business again sometime.” The priest turned and left.

                The boy forcefully uncurled his shaking form and clutched at the bag of coins. It didn’t matter, he told himself, how he got the money. It was his now.
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Courtesan