Witness To Destruction

by Bamfy

After a life filled with hardships, a young woman finds herself in the Labyrinth and

Disclaimer: Allrighty folks, we all know how this works, so here goes nothing ;) Jareth, his Labyrinth, Toy, Sarah, et. belong to Jim Benson productions or something..... no money's being made, bla bla bla...Amalthya and any one else you don't recognize are mine, so ask before you use them. Comments at Bamf@usa.net , no flames, please!

Witness To Destruction

Chapter One

Ann looked out at the dark night and sighed. Empty, as always. This was how her world had been forever, it seemed. No, that wasn't strictly true. She remembered a time when her days had been sunshine and fairy tales. Days when she still lived with her mother. Before her life had gone to hell, but now that she looked back on it, she could see that those early times had been overcast with the shadow of her mother's unhappiness. Her mother was a dreamer. Her earliest memory was of her mother's voice whispering fairy tales and legends about unicorns and other mystical beasts. She had loved to hear he mother's voice like that, lost and dreamy. So unlike her father's stories of things that lived under the bed, things that would gobble bad little girls whole. Her mother had only one scary story. That of the Goblin King. She told her over and over again.

"Listen, Amalthya. If you see him, run away. Run to me, and I'll protect you." Amalthya. How long had it been since anyone had called her by her real name? Almost thirteen years. Her father never did. She remembered fights her mother and father used to have over it.

"Really, Sarah, such a name for a little girl! Haven't you given up your fantasy world by now? This is reality."

"She's a special child, Aaron, she deserves a special name. You agreed, when she was born."

"I agreed that you could put it on her birth certificate, not that you could call her it. We agreed to call her Ann. Writing it on a slip of paper is one thing, she can change it when she's older, imprinting it in her brain is quite another."

"Why do you care? You don't really love her, or me!"

"Sarah, that's not true. How could you say such things?" But it was. Amalthya knew it. Her parents had been married when her mother was only eighteen. Her father was fairly wealthy, and had been attracted by her mother's innocents. Unfortunately, Sarah's talk of fairies and goblins had worn on him quickly. Then Ann had been born, and his wife's time had been spent in the care of the infant. As long as he wasn't bothered, he didn't care what they did. Until that day, thirteen years ago, when Amalthya's life had changed forever. She remembered it so very clearly, that afternoon. Her mother had taken her to a park, and she had gone off exploring. near a little grove of trees, she had found a curious thing. She ran back to show her mother.

"What is it, Mommy?"

"It's a fairy ring, Amalthya. Stay away from it."

"Why? It's just a ring in the grass, see?" And she stepped into the ring.

"Amalthya! No!" It was too late, she had already disappeared. Ann landed with a thud in a field of soft grass. Close by was a stream, and a small pond. She looked around. A ways across the field was a tall wall, and extending backward for what must have been miles was an elaborate maze.

"The Labyrinth." She gasped in astonishment. "I'm in goblin land!"

"That you are my dear," came a voice from behind her. She turned around to see a tall man with blond hair and very blue eyes gazing down at her.

"Who are you?"

"Don't you know? I'm sure your mother has told you all about me."

"You're the Goblin King! What do you want? My mommy said you were a bad person."

"Did she. What do *you* think I am?"

"Well, I don't know. You don't *look* so bad to me."

"There we are. Such a bright little girl."

"I want to go home, Mr. Goblin King. My mom'll be worried."

"If that is what you want, I will take you home." In a blink of an eye, they were standing in the park again.

"Jareth!" Her mother screamed. "Give me back my daughter!"

"Sarah, see reason. Look at what your life has become. You should have stayed with me, Sarah. You could have been Queen. This could have been *our* daughter."

"Amalthya, come here." She ran to her mother. "Go away, Jareth, stay away from us!"

He looked almost sad. "As you wish." He vanished, and as he faded away, she thought she heard him whisper, "The offer still stands."

She had rushed home, and made the mistake of telling her father. That had been the last straw.

"Sarah, I'm not going to let you fill Ann's head full of nonsense anymore. I'm taking her." He had. They had moved to San Francisco, and she had never had another sane conversation with her mother. Her father did his best to wipe every fantasy and dream from her mind.

"This world is reality, Ann. There is no magical world. There is no Goblin King. These were all just you mother's stories, forget them." Needless to say, she had left as soon as she was able. Now she lived in a loft apartment in New York. She had made it her haven, the opposite of the sterile rooms her father had kept. Everything was made to look like a picture-book story, with her own drawings and paintings covering the walls. There were dragons and knights in shining armor, and above all, there was the Goblin King. He was in almost all of her paintings. Never obvious, but there all the same. The funny thing was, she never remembered putting him there.

She pulled herself away from the window. Why was she thinking of this? It always made her sad. Then again, she was always sad. Then she remembered. This was the thirteenth anniversary of the day she fell through the fairy ring, and her life changed forever. For the worse, it seemed to her. For there was not a day that went by that she didn't think of it, that she didn't feel that familiar ache. Not a night passed when that familiar dream did not come. She had lost a piece of herself that day, and now she could never be happy. So she held this vigil, lighted candles, and prayed she would be taken away from this. It never happened. The clock struck midnight, and she held her breath. Nothing happened. She sighed and went into the bathroom, filled the bathtub and got in. Nothing *ever* happened.

The ringing of the telephone woke her. She realized with a start that she was still in the bathtub. She climbed out, wrapped herself hurriedly in a large bath towel, and ran to the phone.

"Hello?"

"Ann? This is your grandfather."

"Granddad? What is it?"

"I'm afraid I have some bad news. Your mother's died."

"Oh..." Ann wasn't sure what to say. She hadn't seen her mother in almost four years, when her parents had put her in a care facility. It broke Ann's heart to see her like that. After her divorce, her mother had become more and more withdrawn. A nervous breakdown, the doctors said. She simply stopped living in the real world. Ann used to visit her once a month, but it got to be too much. Too much to carry the secret that all the things her mother raved about, goblins and the Labyrinth, were real. Sarah never recognize her, anyway.

"Ann?"

She realized she had been silent all that time. "Oh, I'm sorry. I'm upset, you understand."

"Of course you are, dear. First your father, then this..."

"Yes. When..."

"The funeral is Thursday. Your uncle Toby is flying in from London tomorrow." A giggle escaped Ann's lips, despite herself. "Ann, are you okay?"

_Okay?! My mother just died, what do you think!_ She wanted to scream. What was wrong with her? She needed to get a hold of herself. At least a little. "Yes, I mean, why do you always call him 'My uncle Toby'? He's only three years older than I am, for god's sake!" There was no response on the other end. "I'm sorry, Granddad. I-I'll catch a flight later today. I'll call from the airport, okay?"

"That's fine, dear. There are some things of your mother's here at the house that I think she would want you to have. You'll have to go through them and see what you want."

"Yes, of course." She was answering automatically now. Her mind was spinning.

"I'd better let you go so you can get packed. See you later. Love you..."

"Yes. Love you..." She set the phone down. Now what? Call Silviet.

"Silviet?"

"Ann, how are you? You sound a little upset."

"Something's come up. I have to go out of town for awhile... I don't know how long I'll be gone."

"What happened?"

"My mom's died. I have to go take care of some things. Can you bring in my mail and stuff? You have a key, right?"

"Yes. You poor thing, take as much time as you need. Keep in touch, okay?"

"Yeah, I will..." Click. That was done. Now what? Call for a ticket, pack, get to the airport, call Granddad back.

Her plane came in at a little after seven that evening. She met her grandparents at the gate and retrieved her luggage. They passed the trip back to the house in near silence. She took a deep breath before she entered the house. She hadn't been there in so long...and it was still the same. She sighed and sank down onto the couch.

"I'll take your things up to the guest room." Her grandfather headed up the stairs with her bags.

"Can I get you anything to drink Ann, or maybe some food. They don't kid when they use the term 'starving artist'. Your so thin."

"I'm not starving, Grandma, I've got plenty of money from Dad. I don't need anything. I'm fine, really." She gave her grandmother a small smile. "I'm just going to rest here a moment, then I'll go unpack."

"We put your mother's things in the attic for now. You can go up and have a look later, if you feel up to it."

"Okay, thank you." After a bit, she went up to the guest room. It had been her mother's room, years ago. Her desk was still against one wall. She looked at herself in the mirror. She looked just like her mother, everyone said. But Amalthya could see the small differences easily. She had more fine lines in her face than her mother had ever had, and the corners her small, pouty mouth were permanently turned down. People were constantly asking her if she felt all right. Her eyes were green, like her fathers. Eerie emerald eyes that should have belonged to some being from another realm. Too green for human eyes. She turned away, brushing a strand of long brown hair out of her eyes as she did so. She lay back on the bed. She hadn't realized how sleepy she was until that moment.

*She was in the field again, talking to Jareth. He was going to take her home. Suddenly, they were in the park. Her mother was yelling.

"Come now Amalthya, it's time to go." The Goblin King said as he picked her up and held her in his arms.

"Where?" She asked in curiosity, at the same time putting her small arms around his neck.

"Why, back with me, child."

"But what about Mommy?"

"I'm afraid your mother doesn't want you anymore. You're mine now, little one." He said with a smile. Her mother screamed louder. Amalthya called back to her, stretching out her hand to try and grab hold. She was too far away. "Mommy, Mommy!"*

She sat upright, breathing fast, heart pounding. "No. That's not what happened. That never happened!" She screamed to the air. There was a pounding on her door.

"Are you okay, Ann?"

"Yes, Granddad. I had...a bad dream. That's all."

"If you're sure."

"Yes, yes. I'm fine, really."

"Okay..."

After a moment, she got up and began to pace the room. Why wouldn't her demons let her rest? Was it things like that dream that had finally driven her mother over the edge? Well, at least *she* was free now. In two days, she would be laid to rest for eternity. Comforting to know she wasn't suffering anymore. No, Amalthya was the only one who had to suffer now. She decided to go up to the attic to sort through her mother's things. Most of the boxes held old everyday objects left over from before her mother had been moved to the care facility. Some make-up, even old medication. She closed the carton again. She'd take it all, and sort through it later. She moved on to an old chest that was against the far wall, undid the latches, and opened the heavy lid. All of her mother's old costumes! The dresses were pretty, if out of style. She remembered digging through them when she was little.

"When you're older, Amalthya, you can wear them When you're older." Her mother's voice seemed to echo in the empty attic. Under the costumes was a layer of books. The classics, Alice in Wonderland and The Wizard of Oz. Underneath it all, she found a small, thin leather-bound book. She opened it to it's ribbon marker.

"Through dangers untold, and hardships unnumbered, I have fought my way here to the castle beyond the goblin city..."

She snapped the book shut in surprise, and looked at the title. "The Labyrinth." She started to laugh uncontrollably. This was too much! She put the book back in the trunk and closed the lid, redid the latches, and exited the attic. The rest of the boxes, she knew, held stuffed animals and other toys her mother had left behind after she had married. She'd keep a few of them, but most could go to the Salvation Army. She didn't need them, might as well make some children happy.

The next day, Toby arrived. She hadn't seen him since he'd gone off to London as a free-lance photographer.

"Ann. How are you holding up?"

"Okay, I guess. Considering. How are things going for you?"

"Good. I'm really enjoying myself. It's good to see you again. Too bad it had to be like this."

"Yeah. Too bad." The rest of the day passed quietly. Mostly, she wanted to be alone. That's how she felt, utterly alone. These people who surrounded her, tried vainly to comfort her, were her family, true. But she didn't know them. Not really. And the certainly didn't know her. She went to bed early. No one questioned her. She hadn't slept well the night before, and was tired. Then again, she never slept well. As she drifted off to sleep, she thought she saw an owl swoop past the window.

The sky was cloudless, the air warm as they laid her mother in the ground. She felt it should be raining, like in the movies. But the real world rarely worked that way. The tears that spilt from her eyes would be more than enough to wet the ground. It *had* rained at her father's funeral a year ago, which had been a good thing. The rain slid down her cheeks in place of tears. She did not cry for him. She never would. He wasn't deserving of her grief. The only regret she felt for his death was that she was orphaned and alone now. None of this would matter soon, though. She had already made up her mind.

Her mother's things had been sent ahead to her apartment. She had called Silviet, so that the delivery people would be able to put the boxes in the house. She'd be back by the end of the week, she told her.

She must have had a bad dream, because she woke up trembling. She put on her bathrobe and headed down to the kitchen.

"Ann, is that you?" Came a hushed voice from the living room.

"Toby? Yeah, it's me. Couldn't sleep?" She asked, walking in and sitting next to him on the couch. He nodded. "Me either."

"Do- you want to talk about things?"

"What is there to talk about?"

"There must be something. You've lost both your parents in little over a year. That's got to hurt."

"Toby, I've been on my own since before I was seventeen. This makes it official, is all."

He sighed. "Ann..."

"I wish you wouldn't call me that."

"Wha-"

"It's not my name." She continued.

"It- it's not?"

"No. Mom's the only one who ever called me by my real name. We never saw you guys much, so I guess you wouldn't remember."

"No, I suppose not. What is it?"

"Amalthya." It sounded strange to her own ears.

He stared into the dark for a moment. "That's a good name." He said, almost to himself. "But I don't think I can call you that."

"Why not?"

He turned to face her now, his expression earnest. "It's the only thing you have left of Sarah. That name. I can't take that away from you." He paused again. "I could call you Ames, if you'd like. A kind of nickname." He lapsed into silence again. There was something working behind his blue eyes, like he was trying to solve some puzzle, but the pieces kept getting away from him.

She smiled. In the semi-darkness, she looked exactly like his half-sister had. The same long brown hair, the same face, but the expression was infinitely sadder. "I'd like that."

Something was still bothering him. Actually, he had been glad to find Ann- Ames, he corrected himself mentally, awake. Perhaps she could help him figure it out. He got up and paced about the front window.

"Ames, do you remember, when you were seven, you told your dad about falling through the fairy ring?" Even in the gloom, he could see her eyes widen.

"How did you know about that?"

"Um...Dad told me, I think. He thought it was the dumbest reason for a divorce he had ever heard of. So you do remember." She nodded mutely. "This will probably sound silly to you, but what was it? Just a story? Or did it really happen?" She opened her mouth to reply, but he held up a hand to silence her. "Before you answer, let me finish. I want you to understand where I'm coming from. The reason I ask is..well... I keep having this weird dream. I'm in this -place- I'm not really sure how to describe it, and I'm surrounded by these things..."

"Goblins." She said. "They were goblins. It wasn't a dream. You were little. I'm surprised you remember at all." She retold the story to him, just as her mother had to her. He sat there in the dark, listening to her, absorbing everything. "It really happened. Just like the fairy ring wasn't a story. *It really happened.*"

"That explains why Sarah always seemed....I don't know, apologetic."

"She felt horrible about what she'd done. It haunted her for the rest of her life."

"It's haunted you, too." He said matter-of-factly. "I can tell by looking in your eyes."

Silently, tears began to run down her face. "If only you could understand. I saw that place, I felt like it's where I belong. I've waited for thirteen years for him to come back for me, and he hasn't. He hasn't!"

"Shhh...It's okay. I know it hurts, Ames. You're still upset about your mother. It'll pass." He gave her a tight hug.

_If only you knew,_ she thought. _If only you knew._ She straightened up after awhile, and swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. "I should try and get some sleep. I have a plane to catch in the morning."

"Keep in touch, okay? Write me or something."

"I will." She hated lying to him.

When she landed in New York, she caught a cab home. Her mother's things were stacked in the living room. She pulled the chest into her bedroom, then went into the kitchen to sort through her mail. Useless, these gestures. None of it would matter after tonight. She did them anyway. The phone rang, shattering the eerie calm of the house, and made her jump.

"Hello?"

"Ann, your back. Good."

"Yeah, Silviet, any problems?"

"Nope. I let the delivery men in. They didn't mess with any of your stuff, did they? I was running late, so I told them to lock up."

"Everything's fine here."

"You don't sound to wonderful. You want some company?"

"No, no. Why don't you come by tomorrow morning? We'll have breakfast or something, okay?"

"Sure. You're fine?"

"Yes. Stop worrying, will you?"

"I'll see you tomorrow then."

"Yeah, bye."

"Bye."

She hung up the phone. There was a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. How could she have just done that to her best friend? It was unspeakably cruel. But necessary, she decided. She went into the bathroom, and began to comb out her long hair. She would have smiled at the irony of it all, if what she was about to do it wasn't so serious. She had given herself a week to think it over; no backing out now. She went into the bedroom to changed her clothes. Faded jeans and a silk poet's blouse. She went back into the living room, and began opening carton after carton, shuffling through the contents of each. They were here somewhere, she had just seen them! There. She pulled out a almost full pill bottle. Tranquilizers. More than enough to do the job. She took the bottle into the kitchen and got a glass of water. She poured out half the bottle's contents in her hand, and swallowed them. She washed them down with the water. It was done. Now all she had to do was wait. She went and laid down on her bed, arms crossed over her chest. "Like I'm already dead." She whispered dreamily. She frowned momentarily at the thought of Silviet finding her like this, cold and dead. Then she released it. What did it matter now?

In his stone room lit by one huge fire burning in the hearth, the Goblin King watched the world through his crystal. Sarah, his Sarah, whom he had loved dearly, who had spurned and hated him, was no more. And though he grieved for her deeply, her death also released him. From beyond the grave, she had no power over him. He was free to turn his attentions on one who had been calling to him for so long, who's need for him burned like a beacon in the night. The images in the ball flickered, reflecting his thoughts. He gasped and the crystal shattered on the floor at his feet. In a rustle of garments, he vanished, leaving the crystal shards to glimmer in the fire-light.

Chapter Two

A moment later he was at her side, carefully cradling her limp form. She was still alive; for the moment at least. This was Sarah's child, his last link to that past. He could not bear witness to her destruction. He vanished again, clutching her to him.

He sat now, watching the blankets on the bed rise and fall with her shallow breathing. He had done his best. Weather she lived or died now, it was out of his hands. He only prayed to whatever gods might live in the heavens above, that he wasn't left alone again. He pressed the back of his hand to her cheek. It was cool, though sweat beaded on her forehead. She began to tremble, slightly at first, then so violently that he held her tight, wishing he could make it go away. She went completely limp suddenly, and for a horrifying instant he thought she'd passed on. He found her pulse, relived that it was steady, if rapid. She would live. He sat back down in his chair bedside, and tried to get some sleep. He was exhausted.

Her head was pounding. What was wrong? She couldn't see, her eyes wouldn't focus correctly. And she couldn't move at all. She started to panic. Calm down, she told her self. What's the last thing I remember? She drew a blank. Fine. What can I tell about my surroundings? The bed she was in was extremely soft. Her head was resting on a mound of pillows. From what she could feel with the palms of her hands, she was covered in silk, velvet, and what she thought was animal fur. She relaxed against the pillows again, and concentrated. How had she gotten here? Suddenly, it came back like a crushing blow. She had wanted to die! What had gone wrong? Would she be trapped like this forever? Helpless inside her own mind? She started to sob, tears streamed down her face. Through her blurred vision, she saw a movement. She wasn't alone, thank God. She heard a rustle of clothing, and blinked rapidly, trying to regain her sight. She managed to tip her head slightly to one side. There was a dark silhouette, back-lit by a fire. A cool hand pressed against her forehead.

"Shhh....don't try to move. It was a very foolish thing you tried there, child. I barely managed to save you." The voice was low and soothing. She recognized it, with it's melodic undercurrents, it's British sounding accent. A voice that reached to her across the years.

"I know you..." She managed to croak out. "I could never forget..."

"Yes. I know. I've always known. I'm here now. Rest. You're still very ill; go back to sleep." She did, and for once, the dream did not haunt her.

She awoke feeling awful. But a world better than before. Now the true challenge lay before her. She had to face Jareth, the man who had plagued her days and nights for the last thirteen years. She struggled to sit up slowly against the pillows, and suddenly, his hands were helping her. She saw as she turned her head, that he had been merle sitting in a large chair to the left of the bed, where she hadn't noticed him immediately.

"Here." He held a cup to her lips. "Go on, drink. I won't harm you. I saved you life, after all." She sipped at the cool water at first, then gulped it down greedily. She handed him the cup, and wiped her face with the back of her hand.

"Thank you." She managed. Her vision was still playing funny tricks with her, and her voice wasn't obeying.

"Now that you're more rested, would you mind telling me what you were thinking?" His face was stern.

"I- I-" She stammered. "I'm not so sure now. I wanted to die, I know I did! Everything went so wrong!" She started to cry again. He watched, and waited. "Ever since that day..." He nodded to show he knew what she was referring to, "It's all been wrong. And then Mom was taken away, and Dad hated me, and you, you ignored me! I called to you almost every night, once I realized that this was what I wanted, and you never came!"

"That's not true." How could he convey this to her? He had wanted to come to her! How could she know of the many times he had watched her from outside her window as she painted his likeness into her fantasy worlds? How often he had come late at night to watch her sleep? "Amalthya, you have no idea how hard it was for me to stay away! I had no choice. Your mother told me to stay away, and I could do nothing against that. She held absolute power over me."

Amalthya. He had used her name. The way it sounded after thirteen years of never hearing another living soul utter it sent a chill up her spine.

"And she lived in terror of you. I should hate you for what you did to her."

"That is not my fault. She had no reason to fear me. I couldn't raise a hand against her. I loved her."

"Is that why you saved me? To keep a part of her with you forever? Why shouldn't I hate you, after all you did to her? To me!"

"I can't make you like me, or trust me. The only forgiveness for me is that which may lie in you." His expression saddened briefly, then turned cold again. "Despise me if you wish. It makes no difference now. You are here with me."

"I'm sorry. Who am I to accuse you? I called, and in my darkest hour you came. I asked for this."

"Yes, you did. Best keep that in mind." His tone was barely civil. With a flourish of his cape, he was gone.

"That was weird." She said to herself softly.

Disclaimer: Allrighty folks, we all know how this works, so here goes nothing ;) Jareth, his Labyrinth, Toby, Sarah, ect. belong to Jim Henson productions or something..... no money's being made, bla bla bla...Amalthya and any one else you don't recognize are mine, so ask before you use them. Comments at Bamf@usa.net , no flames, please!

Witness to Destruction Chapter Three

"She's not certain if she likes him, but she knows she really loves him..." Drive-in Saturday, Bowie

The castle was *boring*. There wasn't anything for her to do, and she was starting to feel captive. She had been moved into her current room as soon as she had been well enough. It was a nice room, she guessed, with dark wood furnishings and colorful tapestries hung on the walls. There was a dressing table with a large mirror, and a wardrobe with dresses inside. She had picked out a amethyst colored one for today, long enough to sweep the floor, with a tight bodice and long sleeves. The same thoughts kept plaguing her as she paced bare-foot around the chamber. Why had Jareth brought her here? True, she had always dreamed he would, but it wasn't supposed to be like this! "That's what I get for falling in love with a fairy tale." She muttered. It was true. She was in love with the *idea* of Jareth, for how could one truly love someone they did not know? Amalthya wasn't sure what to do about her present predicament. She hadn't had a kind word from Jareth since the day after her arrival, and she was at her wits end. Perhaps he truly did not want her there. Why then, had he bothered to save her at all? Was it because he had loved her mother? He had, of that she was certain, she had seen it in his eyes. But he was in love with a illusion as well, a tale of his own spinning, of what might have been. Had he taken her as a reminder of those dreams, which had all been shattered with Sarah's death? Was she a simple replacement? She sat down in front of the dressing table, and began brushing at her hair with vicious strokes. That was it! A replacement for a man her mother had loathed. Another of his games! Behind her, the door opened. She spun around in her seat. There was Jareth, leaning in the doorway, that cocky grin of his plastered on. Venom rose in Amalthya's throat, and before she knew what she was doing, she rose from the chair and crossed the room in a few angry strides to stand before him.

"What do you want?" Her tone was cold.

"Pardon me? Have I done something to upset you?"

"Have you done anything to upset me? You prevented me from doing the only thing I was ever sure of in my entire life, feint concern over my well being, then completely ignore me. I want the truth Jareth, why have you brought me here?"

He studied her for a moment, as if contemplating an answer. "I couldn't let you kill yourself. I owed it to Sarah."

"My mother is dead!" She all but screamed. "You don't *owe* her anything. All my life I've lived in her shadow. She wasn't even there, and I still couldn't escape her, or you! Tell me the truth. This is all some sort of sick game isn't it? You could never have Sarah, so now you have me to look upon as you wish, to do with as you like. After all, it's not as if anyone will miss me!" She stopped her tirade, sides heaving as she tried to catch her breath. Jareth gazed at her coolly, not even fazed.

"If that is what you wish to believe."

"Of course that's what I believe! You everything my mother warned me against!" He chuckled at that.

"What's so damn funny? Care to fill me in?"

"No. If this is how you want things, so be it. You will join me for dinner in two hours." It was not a request. He turned on his heel and exited the room.

"Oh, God. What have I done? I can't stay here!" She paced the room again. "I guess I'll have to leave." She was fooling herself, and she knew it. There was no way she could get out of the castle. Unless she could manage to fool the guards. Now that she thought of it, it might not be so hard. The goblins weren't exactly bright, so Jareth was the only one she really had to worry about.

He wasn't pleased with the way things were going. It was partly his fault. Okay, it was almost all his fault, as much as it hurt to admit it. He had brought her here, true, but not because of any debt. Because he had watched her for years, watched her grow from that small child who had stumbled into his kingdom, to beautiful maturity. He would have spared her many of the 'slings and arrows' of life, had be been able. He turned down the next hall towards his rooms.

"You," He said, pointing to one of the goblin guards half asleep in front of his door.

"Y-y-yes, my lord?" He stuttered, trying to keep his helmet from falling over his eyes. He failed, and it and his spear went crashing to the floor.

"Pick up this mess, and stand guard in front of our guests door."

"Yes, my lord."

"And *try* to stay awake." The goblin scurried off in the direction of Amalthya's room. The girl was so damned complicated! By all rights, she should hate him, should have spent her every waking hour cursing his existence. He had driven Sarah to her final madness, taken her way from her daughter forever. And yet, she did not. She might think she did, but her eyes betrayed her. That was another puzzling aspect to the girl, he mused as he shifted through the contents of his wardrobe. There was strong magic about her. He doubted she knew of it, it was unrefined. There was a link between that and her eyes....what was it? The answer was vague......he couldn't remember. He sighted and continued dressing. ----

She had packed as many things as she could, and hid them in the closet. Then she had chosen a deep burgundy dress from the wardrobe, and put her hair up so that strands of it tumbled down and framed her face. She looked in the mirror and frowned at how thin she was. She had been ill for a week, and it had taken it's toll on her already slight frame. She hoped she could pull of her plan. She'd dine with Jareth, and try to lull him into false security. Then, later that evening, she'd try to slip out of the castle. After dinner, the goblins usually fell into drunken revelry. They'd be fast asleep by the time she left. There was a faint knock on the door.

"Yes?"

"Are you ready, my dear?" Jareth stood in the doorway, resplendent in white shirt, back vest, charcoal pants and black knee-high boots. He cave her a crooked smile.

"I-I suppose." She felt like hitting herself. Her knees had gone weak and her heart was pounding. She did have to admit he looked stunning, but when did he not?"

Jareth stood in the doorway, admiring his guest. The dress she had chosen was perfect in every way. The low sweep of the neckline accentuated her long, graceful neck. The deep wine color of the dress itself shown wonderfully against her pale skin and made her eyes shine even greener. He noted with admiration, that there was not a touch of make-up on her entire flawless face. His mind drifted back to that long ago dance with Sarah inside the enchanted bubble. Thought mother and daughter certainly looked alike, there were almost mirror images, the figure which was now presented before him was no sixteen year old girl. Amalthya was a woman in mind and body, and would not be easily manipulated.

She came forward a bit hesitantly, and took the arm he offered her. Standing so close to him was intoxicating. She struggled to control her emotions. _He's just enchanting you._ She told herself over and over, but was having a hard time believing it.

"You look lovely." He whispered. His face was so close to hers she jumped. "I didn't mean to startle you."

"I-I'm okay. Thank you." She blushed slightly. He chuckled.

This was going better than he had hoped. It was so difficult to be kind, affectionate. That was where he had gone wrong with Sarah, he knew it. He had tried to trick her and force her to stay with him, intimidating her with his might. And in the end, he had begged her. But that wouldn't happen again. Not this time. ---

She had enjoyed dinner, true, and Jareth seemed to be going out of his way to be nice to her, but she was still determined to leave. She was so confused. Why was she feeling this way about him? She wasn't some silly school girl, after all, she was a grown woman! "There must have been something in the wine." She mumbled to herself. She cautiously opened the door to her room and peeked out. The guard outside her door was fast asleep, snoring loudly. She crept out and closed the door behind her, and padded softly down the hall. At this time of night the castle was almost deserted. She stopped off in the kitchen to gather what food she could, then made her way out of the castle. She paused for a moment to gaze at the breathtaking sight of the Labyrinth spreading out before her, then continued. She sprinted through the deserted night-time streets of the Goblin city, until she reached the entrance to the Labyrinth itself. She stared down the dark stone tunnel, trying to decide which way to go. "I guess one direction is as good as another. Come on, feet."

End Chapter Three

Chapter Four "She's *what*?!"

"G-gone, yer Majesty. We went in ta give her food this mornin' an' she was jus' gone. We figured it was yer doin', 'till you asked 'bout her."

"You idiots. She's in the Labyrinth, now, and I can't get her!"

"No disrespect, Majesty, but couldn't ya jus' use yer magic ta find th' girl?"

Jareth sighed. "How can I put this so you numskulls can comprehend it? The 'girl' has very strong magic, but she's not trained. There for, her magic ability is effectively cloaking her from my perceptions." The goblins gave him a blank stare. He knew if he tried to expound upon this thread of conversation, their eyes would glaze over, and they'd probably be utterly confused for the next week or so. "GET OUT OF MY SIGHT!" It wasn't that he took some sort perverse pleasure in screaming at his minions, it was simply that they were so inane that it took no less than a shout to get his point across. He stalked about the room for a while, trying to think of what to do. Firstly, he'd disarm as many of the magical wards in the Labyrinth as he could. That should help a little, but there were untold other dangers he could do nothing about. He could send the goblins to find her out, but that might only frighten her more. He would have to search the Labyrinth by himself. Gods! Last evening had been so...perfect. He had actually let down some of th unfeeling facade he always wore, tried to show her a bit of his heart, and it had all blown up in his face. She had run away...and taken his heart. "Damn!"

She had walked all morning, so she decided to stop for a rest. Her body was still weak from her illness...."No, not illness. Face it Amalthya, you tried to kill yourself." She glanced around quickly, "And now, you're talking to yourself. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. I've been walking forever, and these tunnels just go on and on!" She sank dejectedly to the ground.

"Hey! watch where you're sittin'!" Cried a squeaky little voice. Amalthya sprang to her feet and looked around her. "Here I was, tryin' to enjoy a nice li'le nap, and you almost squash me!" The speaker was a mouse, a little less than a foot tall, standing on it's hind legs and regarding her with beady black eyes.

"I'm sorry. I didn't see you there." This was the first inhabitant of the Underground she had encountered since entering the Labyrinth. She noted that the brown mouse appeared to be wearing a vest and a small rapier belted at his waist.

"What's yer business in the Labyrinth?" He said, cleaning his whiskers with his small front paws.

"I could ask you the same thing."

"That's easy. I live 'ere, I do. Names Conner."

"Well, Conner, my name's Amalthya, and I'm trying to find my way out of this Labyrinth. Can you help me?"

"If yer tryin' ta get to the castle, you're goin' the wrong way."

"No, actually, I'm trying to get *away* from the castle."

"Humph. Not to many folks try it that way 'round. I c'n help ya for aways. 'Sides, my nose is tellin' me you got a bit o' lunch in that bag."

"Yes, I do. Here," She said rummaging in the bag for a moment, "will this do? I haven't much, I'm afraid." She handed him a thick piece of crusty bread. He took it readily between his nimble little paws and gnawed on it eagerly.

"Thank you." He said between mouthfuls "We don't get much good eating down here. In fact, we don't get much of anything."

"Is there a way to get out of these tunnels. I kind of miss the sky."

"The only way is up." He said, gesturing to a iron ladder attached to a far wall.

"That's no problem for me, but I can see where you'd have problems. You're just not big enough. So, would you like to get out of here?"

"Would I? Y' know how long it's been since I seen the sun?" Amalthya took that as a yes, so she bent over and picked up the small creature, putting it in the bag on her shoulder.

"Hang on tight. And, Don't look down." With those words of caution, she began her accent. The long tunnel lead to a dark dead end. "What gives?"

"Push up. There's a lid on it. Keeps the rain out."

"How considerate. Unfortunately it's also very awkward." She shifted her weight and grip to get a hand free, then pushed up on the lid. She didn't have much leverage, but it was enough to send the lid toppling off. She stuck her head out and saw that she was in a large pot of some kind. She set the bag down, and Conner scampered out. Then she climbed out of the pot, and hopped down. "Well, that's certainly a lot better." She stretched her muscles, which had become cramped during the long climb. "I think I'm going to stop and eat." She said more to herself, than to her companion.

"What, again?"

"I didn't eat anything before. In fact, I haven't eaten anything since last night." Just then a delicious fragrance wafted past. "Mmmm....I wonder what that is?" She headed in the direction of the smell, completely forgetting Conner in her haste. After a short jog, she came to the source of the fragrance. A tall fruit tree, branches laden with perfectly ripe peaches. "Oh, I love peaches. Mom always hated them. Never understood that." Just as she prepared to take a bite of the luscious fruit, Conner rounded the far corner.

"No, don't eat that!" But it was too late.

End Chapter Four

Chapter Five

"Something's wrong..." Her words seemed to echo for a moment. Suddenly, her world became bright and perplexing as the babble of a hundred voices flooded her surroundings. She glanced about confused, being tossed around in a sea of dancers in lively garb and fantastical masks. A ball...She struggled to recall something, anything, but all memory eluded her. There was only the ball and the two loud laughs and jeers of the people around her. She fought her way through the crowed, who pushed and tousled her, to a mirror lined wall. The reflection she saw was of a young woman in a green and burgundy ball gown, with emeralds sparkling in her hair, ears, and at her throat. They matched her eyes perfectly. "Who am I?" She whispered to herself.

----

She'd eaten one of his peaches. That meant that she'd be in the ball-room, and he had a chance of rescuing. It was well worth the try.

----

A murmur passed through the crowd. She looked up, wide eyed, and tried to figure out what was happening. Through the masses she caught a glimpse of a tall man, with pale blond hair streaming down about his face. Their eyes met, and for a moment a shiver passed through her at the sight of the mis-matched eyes. Then she was swept away.

----

He caught her eye for a second, before she was swallowed up again. He pushed and shoved, but couldn't reach her. The dancers would not obey his will and step aside. He was the one searching now, so the room worked against him. Finally he found her in a corner looking around dispassionately. He bowed courteously before her.

"Do I know you?" She asked mildly.

"I believe you do, M'Lady. Care to dance?" He led her into the dance, and the two moved gracefully around the ball-room, observed by all. Jareth studied the woman in his arms. The dress was magnificent on her, more beautiful than the one from the night before. Unfortunately, dark lipstick and eye make-up marred her features. Her eyes were empty as she gazed upon him. He brought her closer in his embrace, sighing. How long had he wished to hold her like this? Longed to kiss the beautiful pout of a mouth? He lifted her face to his, and brought his lips to hers, loving the texture of her silky lips against his own, but he pulled away dissatisfied. There was no passion in her, no spirit. This was *not* the same woman. He could not rescue her from the ball, he realized, only release her from it. The down side was that he would not know where she was, once again. He would chance it, if only to regain her true self.

"Amalthya." He whispered. The remembrance of her name shattered the ball, and sent it tumbling down in shards, along with it's inhabitants. Amidst it all, the white owl flew away, unscathed. She awoke on a dusty stone path with a half-rotted peach in her hand. She threw it away with a cry of disgust. Where was she? What was she doing here? She sat for a long time, musing at her loss of memory. After a while, there was a noise at one end of the path, and a large mouse came scampering towards her, carrying a rather large bag on it's back. It skidded to a halt in front of her.

"I shoulda warned you 'bout those. Sorry." He said, removing the bag from his back. "I'm glad I managed to find ya, though. 'Ere's yer stuff. Why ya lookin' at me so funny?"

"Do I know you?" she asked.

"'Course you do. Forgot them peaches erased yer memory. Let's see if we can't get ya to remember. M' name's Conner, an' yer Amalthya. We're tryin' to get out of the Labyrinth, an' away from King Jareth too, I s'pose.

"Yes...I think I remember now...Thank you, Conner. Well, it won't do us much good sitting here and wasting even more time. Let's get going, shall we?" She picked up the mouse and put him in her bag, then put him in her bag, then put the bag on her shoulder. "This way, you don't have to wear yourself out trying to keep up." She said with a smile.

Chapter Six

She hiked onward, and eventually the stone walls gave way to a forest, dark from the thick canopy of trees. "Are you sure we're not lost?" She asked Conner.

"Well, I 'avent been outta the tunnels in a long time, but I seem t' recall this forest. If we keep goin' this way, we should meet up with a village before long. I thought ya might want some other company for awhile, y'know, some of yer own kind t' talk to."

"There are humans in the Underground? I thought Jareth was the only one."

"Naw. These folks are the descendants of a bunch o' sorcerers that came 'ere a long time ago. They've been livin' in these woods ever since."

"And Jareth let's them?"

"Sure. They don't bother him none." The two travelers had reached a clearing in the woods.

"This looks as good a place to stop for the night as any." She said, pulling things out of her bag. She sent Conner to gather some kindling, and after a while, managed to get a fire started. "Thank God for Girl Scouts." She sighed. Then she got out some bread and cheese, and the little bit of roast she had stolen from the kitchen the night before. "I suppose we should eat this before it goes bad." She rummaged in the bag some more. "I seem to have forgotten a knife."

"Then by all means, let me" The mouse drew his sword, and had the meat and cheese sliced in no time.

"You're pretty handy with that, Conner. Thank you." She patted him on the head. She swore that if a mouse could have blushed, he would have. They finished their meal quietly, and Amalthya set about preparing for the night. She spread out the blanket she had brought with her, and settled down in front of the fire, wishing she had a jacket.

"If ya don't mind me askin', why're you runnin' away from the castle? There must've been a good reason for your bein' there in the first place. Jareth isn't big on house guests, if ya know my meaning." He Conner said, while busily cleaning his whiskers with his paws.

"It's a long story, but I guess we have time. He saved my life..."

"Seems like a funny way t' be repayin' him."

"Well, I didn't want to be saved at the time. You see, a long time ago, he kidnapped my uncle Toby , and my mom had to beat the Labyrinth to keep Jareth from turning him into a goblin. My mom finally fought her way through..."

"Sarah."

"Yes, that's her name. How did you know?

"It's not everyday someone beats the King's Labyrinth, and steals his heart."

"Unfortunately, she didn't want his heart. She left with Toby and never came back. Then, when I was seven, I stepped into a fairy ring near my house, and ended up here." She continued to relate the talk to Conner, who listened attentively. "So that's why I'm here."

"Seems to me, poor Jareth is jus' as confused as you are." He gave the equivalent of a mouse laugh, then became serious again. "I didn't mention it earlier, but the only way ya escaped that ball was 'cause he *let* you go. The question is, why?" Indeed, that was the question, and she kept herself up half the night thinking about it.

----

He had been trying to locate her from the air, but he simply couldn't locate her. The repeated flights over the Labyrinth had exhausted him, and all he wanted to do was sleep. He lay motionless on his bed for a long time, but his mind would not let him rest. On a whim, he pulled a crystal ball from the air and gazed into it. "Show me Amalthya." The center of the crystal grew cloudy, but only vague shadows flickered within. When she had been on Earth, he had always been able to see her. The magic of the Underground reacted with her own aura, making her nearly invisible to his magic. He peered deeper into the crystal and concentrated in an attempt to sharpen the image. He was able to make out trees on the edges of the image. She was in a forest. This didn't really help much, as most of his kingdom was covered in forest, but it was something. Fighting his fatigue, he set out again to scour the land.

----

The two started off early in the hopes of reaching the village by mid-day. The sun was just rising as they began the march. The going was a little slower, due to the fact that the underbrush grew thicker the deeper they went, and Conner had to climb down out of the bag to hack at it with his sword. The only other article of clothing Amalthya had brought was the purple dress she had worn a few days ago, and that further hindered their progress. Mid-day rolled around, and they had yet to find the village. The forest around them was almost black due to the abundance of leaves. Where one would expect the noises of a multitude of living things, there were none. Once, far above, Amalthya thought she heard a screech of an owl, but it did not repeat. "Why's it so quiet, Conner? Doesn't anything live in these woods?"

"Sure, but not by day, mostly. There's dryads and other nymphs, there are elves too, but they only come out at dark. Safer for us to travel by day." They walked on in silence, for the heavy atmosphere of the forest pressed on them, stifling any words they might have shared. Presently, they came to a clearing, where a few afternoon rays shown like strands of gold. From the trees in this clearing, there hung a strange moss that seemed to shimmer in the scant illumination. "Oh, it's so beautiful, don't you think?"

"It gives me the creeps." Came Conner's voice from the pack. "Let's be off again, soon as we're able."

"All right, I just want to look around a little." She said dismissivly. She didn't really see any reason for alarm. Amalthya set him, and the bag, down and proceeded into the clearing. Half-way through, strung between two trees, so translucent and fine that she almost walked into it, was an immense spider's web. "Oh!" She started to back away, when she noticed part of her skirt was stuck to the sticky threads. She tugged at it in an attempt to free herself, but only succeeded in becoming more entangled. "This stuff is as strong as steel cable." No sooner had she spoken than there was a strange chittering noise above her. She looked up to see a large white spider advancing upon her at an alarming rate. "Conner, Conner, help!" She continued to struggle to detach herself, while keeping one eye on the menacing arachnid.

----

Conner watched Amalthya walk further into the clearing. It was clear she didn't really believe in the dangers the Labyrinth presented. The whole place rubbed him the wrong way, so he hoped she'd quickly decide to get moving again. "In the mean time, I might as well look for a snack. She'll be all right on her own for a bit, I guess." He headed off into the underbrush in search of some tasty berries and nuts.

----

"Conner!" Amalthya cried again. The spider was now very close to her, and it looked hungry.

----

"Conner!" The desperate plea rang through the woods. He dropped the armload of nuts he had gathered, and ran back to the clearing. There, In the middle of the break of the trees, he spotted Amalthya, caught in a large spider's web. The web's rather nasty owner was scuttling closer to it's prey every moment. He shot across the clearing and in a flash was cutting away at the web and the fabric of the dress. With a sudden jerk, Amalthya tore free, and the two dashed out of the clearing, pausing only long enough to grab the bag of supplies. In the waning light, they climbed a ridge and from the top, spotted a few lights twinkling in the dusky light, and smoke curling upward in the sky. "There it is, Conner!" She said, pointing out the lights.

"Good. Let's get out of these woods. They're not safe for travelin' after dark."

----

A shock passed through him like an electric current. For a moment he could see a forest clearing, and here a woman's pleading voice. Then it all vanished. "What?" He stood, startled. It had been Amalthya. She was in some kind of danger, in the forest. He transformed into an owl and flew off. He didn't understand the nature of his vision, but he understood it's meaning. He reached the clearing in the woods, and found no one. In the center of it, though, was a broken web, with pieces of torn fabric still clinging to it. Fabric he recognized as belonging to one of Amalthya's dresses. She had escaped then. He breathed a sigh of relief. The ghost-spiders were dangerous, and their venom deadly. Had she been bitten, she would have most certainly died. So he had some sort of connection to her, but it only seemed to work when she was in danger, if this instance hadn't been some fluke. Unfortunately, it came to late for him to be of assistance. He decided to stay in the woods anyway, just in case.

----

As if on cue, dozens of glowing red eyes appeared in the brush around them. "Conner, what are those?" Amalthya asked in a nervous voice.

"Those," he gulped "are squirrels."

"Squirrels? Last I checked, squirrels don't have glowing eyes. They may be a evil but..."

"Maybe *your* squirrels don't, but this is the Underground."

"What do they want?"

"Probably us...for dinner. I suggest we run." The two travelers took off, darting through the underbrush as fast as they could, a wave of red eyes sweeping along behind them.

"They're catching up!" Amalthya cried.

"Throw 'em something from the pack!" She obeyed, grabbing the hunk of cheese left over from their meal, and hurled it in the direction of the squirrels. The red-eyed rodents pounced on the food in a frenzy.

"I think that distracted them, lets go!" Amalthya and Conner moved with haste toward the smoke rising above the canopy in the valley below.

End Chapter Six

Witness to Destruction Interlude

The alarm rang next to her bed, so she slapped it with her hand and got up. Yawning, she dressed, and ran a comb through her black ringlets. She was about to make herself breakfast, when she remembered the plans she'd made with Ann. Glancing at the clock, she grabbed her keys and noticed it was almost eight. It wasn't a long drive to Ann's apartment, but it did give her a little time to think. She had known Ann since they were both seventeen, escapees from a mundane homelife. They had gone to school together as well, Ann in the arts, and herself in theater. They had even gotten jobs together at a local gallery, where Silviet still worked occasionally, and Ann displayed her work. She was worried about her friend. Ann had always been troubled, though Silviet didn't know the cause, and Ann never talked of it. She knew very little of her past life, save that she had lived in San Francisco since the age of seven or so, and that her father had recently passed away, leaving her a good amount of money. Even before his death, Ann's father had always made sure that she was provided for, even if he had no other contact with his only child. That money, little though it was, had kept the two of them alive during the dry spells in their work. The two of them were like kindred souls, both dreamers bound by their wayward spirits to uncertain professions. One could never tell when the next job would come, when the next painting would sell, so they lived hand to mouth, ever teetering on the edge of oblivion. It was only the last two years, in fact, that they had had separate apartments. They remained, and ever would, closer than two sisters reared together, because they had grown up a more important way. They had grown from the stary-eyedness of naive youth, to adults with a hard education in the real world. It amazed Silviet at times, that either of their dreamers-souls had survived, and not been trampled by the heavy foot of reality. She arrived at Ann's door, and knocked. To her surprise, the door opened slightly at her touch. Ann almost never forgot to lock her door. Silviet stepped inside cautiously, and looked around. The boxes were in the living room where the delivery men had left them. Some of the covers were off, but nothing was terribly amiss. "Ann?" She called. No reply. Maybe she was in the back room painting with her headphones on. She sometimes lost track of time that way. She opened the door, but was greeted with only the chaotic scene of paints and canvasses stacked along walls and on easels. "Maybe she forgot I was coming." The keys to her car were still on the table, next to a pile of opened mail. There was one cup on the counter in the kitchen. "Strange. Well, maybe she went down to the gallery. She could have walked, I guess." She decided to leave her a note, in case she missed her. Ann, stopped by, guess you forgot we had plans. It's understandable. You've been through a lot lately. I'm going down to the gallery, in case that's where you went. If I don't catch you there, I'll call after rehearsal, about seven-ish. See ya, Silviet There were few people around when she got to the gallery. A few customers looking at the paintings, but that was about it. Jeff was working the counter.

"Hi, Silviet. You working today?"

"No, I have rehearsal in an hour and a half. Has Ann been here today?"

"I haven't seen her. Xander's in the back, by the way. You might want to ask him. She might've come in the back way."

"Yeah, I will." She headed to the back room.

"Silviet?"

"Yes, Jeff?"

"When are you two going to get hitched?"

"Xander and I aren't that serious, Jeff. We don't even share an apartment!"

"Sure, whatever you say." She gave him a look of disgust and continued to the store room.

"Xander?" Her boyfriend stepped out from behind some shelves. "Silviet, what are you doing here? I thought you had rehearsal." He was a tall, thin man, with fine features and light skin. His hair, completely white since his birth, fell to just below his shoulders. Silviet never tired of the sight of him. To her, he looked unreal, like something from some other realm. He had been kind to both her and Ann when they both came to work for him five years ago. She had always been amazed that she was the one who had ended up dating him. Ann was the prettier of the two of them, in her opinion, but Ann had been uninterested in him. "He reminds me of someone I knew a long time ago." She had said.

"Is that a bad thing?"

"No. But he's not the same person, and I don't want to trick myself into believing he is."

Silviet had understood, and was glad that there would be no competition between them. No man should come between two friends.

"What are you thinking?"

"Oh, nothing. Has Ann been back here?"

"Not today, no. Why?"

"We were supposed to go to breakfast, but when I went by her apartment, the door was open, and she was gone. Her car keys were still on the table."

"Do you think something happened to her?"

"I don't know. I don't thinks so.." She shook her head. "She's been so upset lately. I wish I could have done something for her...." Xander wrapped his arms around her.

"Shhh....You were there for her as a friend. That's the greatest gift you could give. Don't worry. If she doesn't show up, we'll contact the police. I'm sure she's fine. She just forgot you were coming by."

"Yeah," She said wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, "I'm sure your right. You must think I'm pretty silly for getting so upset."

"No, of course not." He smoothed her hair with his hands. "When's you rehearsal?"

"In an hour and a half. Are you going to come?"

"Of course, Dear Heart, of course.

Witness to Destruction Chapter Seven ________________________________________________________________ "Release my soul, release my eyes A clock unwinds, a flower dies Dishonesty disqualifies You win the race but lose the prize A tattered cloak behind the throne It is unseen, it is not known Behind this face I am alone I would give everything I own To touch you." -Emerson, Lake & Palmer ______________________________________________________________

The reached the village as the sun sank completely. "Conner, why don't you stay here, and I'll come back for you. We've no idea how these people might respond to a talking mouse." He agreed, and she walked into the village. There were few people about, and the all looked at her strangely. She realized she must look affright, her clothes in tatters and smeared with dirt. "Could someone direct me to a place where I could get a room for the night? I've been traveling all day."

A man in rough home spun clothing, and rake slung over his shoulder approached her. "'ere, miss. Come wit' me. We can put ya up for th' night."

"Thank you ever so much. I've been fighting my way through those woods all day. There were these horrible spiders and squirrels...." All of the day's stresses came pouring out of her.

"Calm down. Yer outta there now. No need t' worry. You come home wit' me, we'll feed you, get ya cleaned up, then you can tell us all about it." He led her to a small cottage that glowed with warm firelight. "Molly, we've got us a visitor."

"Oh, you poor dear." Said a pleasant looking woman, not much older than herself. She had blond hair and a tired face. "Come with me, we'll get you cleaned up." Molly boiled water over the fire, then poured it in the tub along with some cooler water from the well. Amalthya changed out of her ruined dress, and climbed into the warm water gratefully.

"What ever were you doing in the middle of the wilderness? The nearest town is at least a days journey from here. And you came alone no less!"

"I didn't really have a choice. I have to get to the outside of the Labyrinth and get home. Unfortunately, I have no idea which way to go, or what to do once I get there."

"I'm afraid I don't understand. Why would you want to get away from here? There is nothing outside of the woods for us. If someone in your village is troubling you....."

"You don't understand. I'm not from here. I'm from, well Earth. This isn't my home!" Amalthya said despairingly. She was starting to believe she would never make it home. What had seemed like a straight forward, simple task at the beginning of her journey, was now seeming more and more impossible. "I don't really expect you to understand."

"Well, I may not be able to understand, but I recognize a soul in turmoil when I see one. I'll listen to whatever you have to say, when you feel like talking." Molly left the room to get clothes for her guest, her comments weighing on her mind. "Do you know what she said, Joseph? She said she was from *Earth*."

"Don't be silly. No one of us has left the Underground in all these years. And She's most defiantly one o' us. You saw her eyes. She's not from Earth. Either she's makin'' it up, or perhaps she was injured in the forest, and got confused."

"Of course your right. We have an obligation to her then, don't we? I mean if she's hurt, we've got to help her."

"Yes. We'll take care of the poor dear. See if you c'n get her to talk t' you. I'll get someone to go to the next village and see if anyone fittin' her description's gone missin'."

"I'll go take these to her." She exited the room, and Joseph left the cottage to send the message. "Here you go. This might be a little big, but it should do." She laid out the green dress.

"Thank you, Molly. I'm afraid I forgot to tell you my name. I'm Amalthya."

"That's a very pretty name. I'll let you get changed. Dinner'll be just a few minutes."

"Thank you again." Molly left the room, and Amalthya got out of the tub, toweled off, and put the dress on. It was a little big on her, but not a terribly bad fit, considering. She left the back room, and came out into the kitchen. "Where did your husband go? I wanted to thank him as well."

"Joe'll be back soon enough. You sit here and tell me all 'bout what happened to you." Amalthya related her tale once again, relaxing somewhat as the burden was lifted from her shoulders. She didn't notice Molly's brow furrowing in concern.

"Really. The Goblin King? Can't say I know of anyone who's ever seen 'im. We always thought of 'im more as a myth than anything else. And what's this Labyrinth?"

"The Labyrinth? Why, we're in it right now. This woods is part of it. Haven't you ever gone outside of this forest?"

"No one does. It's not safe outside our forest." This last statement troubled Amalthya more than anything else had the whole evening. These people had no idea of the world outside their few villages. Was this Jareth's doing? Did he keep these people confined in this little corner of the Underground? There was one other thing she had noticed early on that didn't sit right with her. Molly's eyes, and her husbands as well, glowed with the same strange fire as her own. The same as, she was willing to bet, the rest of the village. Something wasn't right here, but she couldn't quite place her finger on it. Joseph returned a short time later, and the three of them ate dinner in silence. Amalthya carefully slipped some bread from her meal into the pocket of her dress. After dinner, she excused herself, saying she wanted to take a short walk around the village before she went to bed. She crept out to the edge of the forest and called softly.

"Conner? You out here?"

"Took ya long enough. I was beginnin' to think you'd forgotten 'bout me."

"No, look. I even brought you some supper." She gave him the bread, which he began to eat immediately.

"So..." He said between mouthfuls. "What do ya think?"

"These people are a little strange. They never go outside the forest, and they think Jareth is just a myth. They didn't even know what the Labyrinth was!"

"That is a little weird."

"Your telling me. They talk to me like I was two, or stupid or something. It's all just...."

"Amalthya!" Joseph's voice called from a few yards away.

"I've got to go. I'll see you tomorrow. I'm here!"

"Were you talking to someone?"

"Me? No, why?"

"I just thought I heard someone...nevermind. We thought maybe you got lost."

"No, I'm fine. Just tired." She stifled a yawn.

"Come on back with me then. We'll get you settled." They put her in the back room, and piled the bed with furs to make it warm and comfortable. It reminded her of the weeks she had spent recuperating in Jareth's castle. It was a strangely comforting thought. "If only things could have stayed like that. Then I wouldn't have had to leave." She drifted off to sleep, unmindful of the murmuring voices in the next room.

"It's worse than I thought. she told me she was kidnapped by the Goblin King, and that these woods were inside of...what was the word...a labyrinth. Something terrible must have happened to her, Joseph. She seemed so earnest, but none of it's real. It can't be!"

"I agree. We'll have to take her to someone who can care for her. When I found her this evening, she was stareing into the woods, talkin' to herself."

"Goodness! What if she wanders off? She could get hurt out there."

"We'll have to watch her. Tomorrow, we'll talk with the Elder. I bet he'd know what to do with her." ---- The owl swooped over the small town unobserved. She was somewhere near by. He had felt another twinge at sunset, but it had vanished so quickly, he hadn't been able to pinpoint it. Giving up finally, he wheeled away in the direction of his castle. ---- She slept fitfully. Dreams tormented her, but she couldn't really remember what they were about. Once or twice, she had awakened and thought there was someone in the room, but decided it was just her imagination working overtime. By the time the sun rose to peek in the window, she was more exhausted than she had been the night before. She rose, dressed, then platted her long hair back out of her face. After the little morning routine, she felt better. She went into the kitchen with a smile on her face, but inside, her heart was heavy at the thought of continuing her way through the Labyrinth.

"Good Morning, Amalthya." Molly's cheery voice greeted her. "Sleep well?"

"Fine." She lied.

"Have some breakfast."

"Thank you, for everything. But I really have to get going again. I want to go home."

"No. You can't! I mean, not without breakfast. Eat up, and then we'll see what we can do about getting you on your way."

"Okay....if you insist." She ate the food that was put before her. Joseph came in with an armload of firewood.

"It's all set, Molly."

"What is?"

"Oh, nothing you need to worry 'bout. I was thinkin' we could go down to th' market, get the supplies you need."

"Okay. I don't really have any money, though."

"Don't worry none. We'll make sure you're taken care of."

After Molly and Joseph had finished eating, they all went to the market square. They looked at some of the stalls, then the couple led Amalthya into a small stone building, where a group of older men were waiting for them.

"Is that the girl?" One asked.

"Yes, Sir. She came in last night, like I said. We think maybe she hit her head or something, and got lost in th' woods."

Amalthya looked around fearfully. "What's going on here?"

"Calm down, young lady. We want to help you. You're obviously confused. I think your right, Joseph. See the scrape on her forehead?"

"I got that running away from the spider. I didn't hit my head!" She tried to bolt for the door, but was held fast.

"See here. We're only trying to help. The stories you told...I know you can't understand this, but they couldn't be true."

"I'm not crazy, I'm not! Let me go, please!" She broke into sobs.

"Joseph, Molly, you did the right thing. Who knows what might have happened to her if she had gone into the forest again. You probably saved her life." The crowed began to disband, and two men led Amalthya from the building. She didn't have the will to fight them.

"Joseph, do you really think we did the right thing?"

"Of course, Molly. You heard the Elder. They'll take her to someone who can help her get better."

"Oh, I hope so. She was such a nice girl."

End Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight _____________________________________________________________ "I am closer to believing Than I ever was before On the crest of this elation Must I crash upon the shore And with the driftwood of acquaintance Light the fire to love once more I am windblown...I am times." Closer to Believing -Emerson, Lake and Palmer ____________________________________________________________

She sat in the back of the wagon, muttering to herself. There were people around her babbling incoherent things, talking to the air, of staring mutely before them. "How did I let this happen? I'm not crazy, I know I'm not. You have to let me out of here!" She yelled, griping wooden bars with her hands. "I don't belong here, I'm not crazy!"

"That's what they all say, missy." A dirty man with a gap-toothed smile walking along side the cart said.

"But I'm not. I have to get out of the Labyrinth, to get home. You have to believe me!"

"Sure sounds like crazy talk t' me." He spit on the ground. "Pretty thing like you, should learn t' keep yer mouth shut 'fore you get yourself hurt." He reached between the bars and pulled on her hair, laughing. "Oh, you'll be good for a laugh, you will."

"Reg, get away from there. What have I told you about harassing the patients?"

"I was jus' havin' a bit o' fun with 'er, Captain. Didn't harm 'er none."

"Just back away. If I catch you near those bars again, it'll be your job, understand?"

"Yessir. Won't 'appen again."

"See to it that it doesn't." At this point, the speaker came into view. He wore chainmail armor, and a helmet that obscured much of his face. "He didn't hurt you, did he?" His eyes surveyed the frightened woman in the cart.

"N-no. But you have to listen to me. I don't belong in here. You have to let me out."

"I'm afraid I can't do that. But if you were placed here wrongly, I'm sure the examiners will release you after your interview. They don't keep sane people locked up."

"Yes. Your right. Thank you." She gave him a tremulous smile. He disappeared from her line of sight again. She held to that faint ray of hope. Perhaps the 'examiners' would see reason; see the truth behind her words. It was a small prospect to cling to, for she new full well how crazy her tale sounded to her own ears. But it was the truth, so she held fast to it. It was all she had now. Hour after hour, the cart rolled on; occasionally picking up new tenants at small, secluded villages. Time stretched incomprehensibly, she had no way to judge how long she had been traveling. There was only the endless jarring over the pitted road, the seamless green walls of the forest on either side of her. Her head drooped like a flower on a broken stem, and she had not the strength, or the desire, to lift it. The one thought that fluttered over and over in her mind, like a butterfly trying frantically to escape, was that Jareth would save her. That somehow, he would find her, and take her away to the castle, to the place where nothing would ever hurt again. It was a vain thought, she knew, for had he wanted to find her, he surely would have done so by now. Her thoughts shifted groggily in her tired mind to her friends she left back home. She had been gone for weeks now, but how much time had passed on earth? Where they looking for her? Had they even realized she was gone? Stagnant fears festered in her heart. Alone. How she hated the word. How she hated the mindless panic that seized her every time she thought of it. It was the one thing she feared above all others, the prospect of being alone again. Forever. After an eternity, the cart, and it's weary passengers came to a jostling stop. The back doors were opened, and the occupants led out one by one. They were taken into a large, dark stone building, and put in rooms little more than jail cells. There was a crude cot in one corner, some moldering straw on the floor, and high above her, a small bared window through which a feeble amount of illumination shown. Here, in this dark hole, it washer only way to calculate the passage of time. They were fed at regular intervals, though she began to wish they were never fed at all. Near ten in the morning, by her calculations, the dirty, gap-toothed man the captain had called Reg, came into her cell.

"There's my pretty miss. 'ow're we today?" She shrank further into the corner of her cot. "Oh, come on, li'le lady, ol' Reg won't hurt you none." He approached her and took hold of her arm. "I brought you a bit to eat. Come on then, come keep me company while I eat me own lunch." He dragged her over to a rough-hew bench that stood against the wall near the door, and forced her to sit. "That's a good girl." He handed her the plate he had brought for her. "Eat up." She sat in silence, not daring to look up into his leering face. "Shame such a fine girl as you should be locked up in a horrible place like this." He reached out to touch her face with a grimy finger. She lept up form the bench, and kicked him in the shin as hard as she could manage.

"Keep away from me, you monster!"

"Quite the li'le spitfire, aren't we now? You oughtn't o' done that."

"Get out! Get away from me!"

"That did it. Come here, missy." He advanced on her threateningly.

"Help! Someone!" She screamed, fleeing to the far end of the cell. She was cornered against the stone wall, with Reg between her and the door.

"What's going on it there?" A voice in the hallway called.

"Nothin'. One o' the inmate's givin' me a bit o' trouble, that's all." Reg turned around to face the door.

"Do you need any help?"

"No, got it all taken' care of." He opened the door, exited and locked it behind him. He took one last look into the room through the portal in the door. "I'll be back for you." He leered. She shivered the rest of the day, but weather through the grace of God, or some other power, the man did not return. Late in the evening, she heard the jingle of keys in the corridor. She peered out the portal, and spied a hunched over woman cleaning out one of the rooms across from her own.

"Miss? Miss!" The old woman turned around. "Do you, by any chance, know when I will get to meet with the examiners? I've been here for several days, and no one's yet been to see me."

"They're workin' their way down this row, so someone should be by to get ya tomorrow."

"Thank goodness." She couldn't wait to get away, and back on her journey. She went back to her cot, and slept the first good sleep she'd had since arriving there. Early the next morning, she awoke to a taping on her door.

"Wake up! It's time to meet with the examiners!" She got up, straightened her appearance as best she could, and walked to the door. It was opened, and she was led by the arms down the corridor.

End Chapter Eight

Witness to Destruction Chapter Nine

They led her down the dark, dank corridor, past cell after cell. The air was filled with strange moans and shrikes, and the occasional plea for help. She did not turn her head to either side, but locked them on the floor in front of her. She held the prospect of her release in front of her like a fiery brand, her only focus. There was a rattling of keys as one of the guards unlocked a door, and opened a heavy wooden door. Beyond it was the faint flicker of torch light, and a long winding stairwell. She was pushed from behind, and taking the cue, she began to ascend the stairs. When she reached the top, she was ushered into a small room, seated at a wooden table, and told to wait. The guards exited and she heard the lock being turned. The room was not much different from her cell, a little brighter, a little cleaner, perhaps. There was only the table she sat at and two chairs. After waiting for almost an hour, by her calculations, she heard footsteps outside the door. Next came the sound of a key in the lock, and the creak of the opening door. A heavyset man, with graying hair entered the room, and took the seat across from her. He motioned to an attendant outside the door, and it was closed again, but not locked.

"Are you one of the examiners?"

"Yes I am miss. Let's get down to business then, shall we?"

"You don't know how grateful I am. You have no idea how horrible it is being locked up in this place and knowing that your perfectly sane."

"That's for me to judge. Start at the beginning. Name?"

"Amalthya."

"All right, Amalthya, how about you tell me how you got here." She poured out the whole tale to him, from that fateful day in the park, up until she was taken away from the village. The man nodded occasionally, or made grunts as if he were making some mental note of her story. When she had finished, he stood, walked over to where she sat, and took her head in his hands. He turned her face this way and that, as if examining it for faults. More than once his eyes flickered over the cut on her brow. He traced the jagged line with his finger thoughtfully. "How did you get this?"

"Running away from the spider, I think. I don't really remember."

"Um hum. Guard?" The door opened.

"Yes?"

"Take her back downstairs, and have someone watch her. She's no threat to anyone, but we can't release her. Keep an ear out for anyone missing a wife or daughter fitting her description.

"You're sending me back? You can't! You have to let me go, please. Let me go!"

"I'm sorry this is happening to you, dear. I know you can't understand what's going on, but it's for the best. You'd only get hurt if we let you go off by yourself. I'm sure your family will come for you eventually." She was dragged from the room.

----

The king sat in his throne, looking at the man before him dispassionately. "You have her description. That should be enough for you to begin a search.

"May I ask why the girl is so important to you, your highness?"

"You may not. Your job is to spread the word in the villages that Someone is looking for a girl matching that description. Your job should make that a simple enough task."

"Yes, your highness." The man departed.

----

Back in her cell, she sat whimpering on the cot. He hadn't believed her! She was beginning to lose hope in ever leaving the room in which she now sat. There was no escape, she didn't have the strength for it. The most she could hope for was a re-interview. If he didn't believe the truth, then she'd just have to lie. She spent the day dreaming up an identity for her self, but hit ledge after ledge. It was no use. She didn't have enough knowledge of life here in the forest to even begin to weave a convincing fabrication. She retreated further into herself, trying to forget where she was, why she was there. Better she had been thrown in a dungeon at the castle, or died on her bed at home. Anything was better than this maddening confine meant. She paced the room, sometimes screaming in outrage, or beating the unyielding stone with her fists in frustration. Yes. Better she had died, than suffer this, to go slowly out of her mind. In the dark of night, when not a sliver of moonlight shown in the small bared window, she awoke. Worn out with screaming and crying, she had thrown herself down, and slept for hours. Now she sat up, alert and listening for what had awakened her. After a moment, she walked across the cell, floor cold on her bare feet, and looked out the portal window in the door. "Who's there?" She called softly.

There was no answer. She went back to the cot and wrapped the thread-bare blanket around herself. "Oh God. I'm never going to make it out of here." She began to cry silently. All her hope had leached away, leaving only dispare and bitter hatred in her heart. "Damn you, Jareth." She whispered harshly to the inky darkness.

---

For days he'd had a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, punctuated by a sudden, mindless fear. These feelings weren't his own, he knew, but Amalthya's. He had wracked his brain trying to think of every place she could be, alone and frightened. He had personally searched every obbliet there was, and came up with nothing. Someplace cold and dank...like a dungeon. "Where is she?" It was driving him to madness. If he could only find her, rescue her, maybe he could do away with the other emotion that was eating him from within. Uncertainty. He felt...he wasn't sure what he felt for the girl. It had been so long since any emotion besides anger and cruelty had touched his heart that it was alien to him. Even the love he had felt for Sarah hadn't been true. It had been based on what-might-have-beens, on dreams based mostly on control over her passionate will. So what was this monstrous thing that clutched at his heart, and would give him no rest? He sighed heavily, and paced the room in long strides. He could hear whispers behind his back; the goblins were talking about the change that had come over their king. He spun suddenly, shooting them such an icy stare that several attempted to cower behind their companions. His whole frame was tense, and seemed to lend electricity to the air, as if he was a live wire. "Don't you have something you should be doing?" The throne room emptied faster than he had ever seen it before, leaving him alone with the seething turmoil of his heart.

End Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

She sat up on the cot and rubbed at her eyes. There were voices outside the door, discussing something. "'ello in there. You awake?"

She ran to the door and looked out. "Yes. Yes, I'm awake."

"Is that her?"

"Yes, that's her." There was a clanking of iron, and the door opened.

"Come on out, miss. Yer 'usband's come for ya."

"I'm not married." She looked at the tall man who stood in the doorway. "I've never seen this man before in my life."

"Come now, dear. I've been told you got a nasty bump on the head. Come on home, and we'll take care of everything."

"I don't know who you are , but I'm not going with you!" The man took her roughly by the arm and drew her in close.

"Look, I'm trying to do you a favor. Shut up and play along." He whispered in her ear. "She's still a little confused, aren't you dear?"

"Um, Yeah. Take me home please?"

"Go on. I'll see to the paper work." The guard ushered them out of the building. "Keep a closer eye on her, young man."

"I will."

---- They walked down the road in silence for a long time. "So, who are you?"

"You don't recognize me?

"I'm afraid not."

"That's a shame. I should have left you to Reg."

"Your the captain. I didn't recognize you. That helmet covered most of your face."

"Don't worry about it."

"I'm not. What made you believe me anyway?"

"Who said anything about believing you. Maybe I freed you for my own purposes."

"If that was true, you *would* have left me to Reg."

"You found me out. He's the real reason I came." The man stopped and pointed into the forest. A familiar form emerged from the trees.

"Conner!"

"Hey there. Didn't think I'd forgotten 'bout you, did ya? They retreated far into the woods, then found a clearing in which to settle for the night. The captain lit a fire, and took out some rations, which he passed around. "So Conner got you to rescue me." She said, trying to start a conversation.

"Yes. It was the darndest thing. I came back to the village after we unloaded the cart. I decided to take a walk in the woods, clear my head. I hate being an escort to those caravans, but the always insist. Such a shame. Most of those people would never hurt a fly, but they get treated worse than dirt."

"Tell me about it. I spent a more than a few days in there, remember?"

"Of course. And I'm sorry for that." She gave him a look that said, 'don't worry about it.'. As I was saying, I decided to go for a little walk in the woods. The stillness calms my nerves, I find. So I'm walking, not paying much attention to anything, when I hear this little voice. I look down, and there he is." He made a motion towards Conner. "At first I thought I was seeing and hearing things, too much time around the mental patients, you know? But he keeps at it, telling me how I took away his friend in that cart, and how I have to help him rescue you. I remembered you from the cart, you see, so it all began to make sense. We had to wait for the next caravan, to come and rescue you, that's why it took so long. It would have attracted too much attention if I had gone on my own." Amalthya seemed to think this over for awhile, gazing into the heart of the fire, as if trying to divine it's innermost secrets. The captain watched her, admiring the way the firelight danced across her face and shown in her dark hair. 'Better watch yourself, mate. The Goblin King's got his eye on this one.' he reminded himself mentally. She stirred finally, and looked at him.

"Thank you."

"No need. Just doing a good deed."

"No. You saved me when no one else would. I would have gone insane in there." Tears sprang to her eyes.

"Now then, none of that. I'm sure that king of yours would have come for you."

"No, I don't think so. He was kind to me for awhile but, if he really wanted me, he could have come at any time."

"And you would have hated him for it. Maybe he's biding his time. Or maybe, he *can't* help you." The man's dark eyes glinted with some undisclosed secret.

"Don't be silly, Jareth's power is infinite!"

"Well, You know the man, not me, but seems everyone's got *some* limitations."

"I suppose. Actually, it's a little comforting to think he might not be invincible. Thank you...oh dear." She said with a little laugh. "I just realized I don't know your name!"

"Gabriel, at your service." He said with a mock bow. She laughed more, then yawned.

"Goodness, I'm tired."

"Been confined in that little room to long. You rest up, and tomorrow, we'll get moving again. We have to see about getting you home."

"We?"

"You don't think I'd let you go off alone, do you?"

"Not alone!" Conner piped up.

"Of course not. But no one knows these woods better than I do."

"We'd be glad to have you along, Gabriel."

----

Witness to Destruction, Interlude Two

"...Come, go, good Juliet. I dare not stay."

"Go to thee hence, for I will not away. What's here? A cup closed in my true love's hand? Poison, I see, hath been his timeless end. O churl!-drunk all, and left no friendly drop to help me after? I will kiss thy lips. Haply some poison yet doth hang on them to make me die with a restorative. Thy lips are warm."

"Lead, boy. Which way?"

"Yea, noise? Then I'll be brief. O, happy dagger, this is thy sheath! There rust, and let me die."

"That's good for today! Wonderful job, Silviet. The death scene is much improved."

"Thanks. I tried to get into her head a little more, y'know, think about how I'd feel in her position."

"Well, it's working. Keep up the good work, everyone!"

Xander watched from the seating area of the theater as the cast and crew prepared to leave. He liked to sit here when Silviet was rehearsing, he felt it gave him a more intimate knowledge of her soul. To him, all her innermost passions and emotions were visible when she was performing. It was if it made her somehow more alive. He brushed a strand of white hair out of his face and stood as Silviet descended from the stage and approached him. She was still wearing her costume, a deep blue dress with silver trim that matched her sapphire eyes. A portion of her dark hair was twisted back, and the rest hung around her pale face in raven rivulets. Truly beautiful.

"What did you think?" She asked, looking into his violet eyes hopefully.

"You were wonderful, as always."

She blushed slightly. "Thank you. I have to change, then we can go."

"All right." He followed her back stage, and waited in front of her dressing room door. A snatch of song floated to him as she sang to herself.

"...Larded with sweet flower, which bewept to the grave did-not-go with true love showers..."

Yes, his Silviet. At times, he wondered what sort of spirit she was, for she had a habit of flitting from one character to another. She played Juliet just as well as she did Ophelia, and Desdemona as well as both others. It was as if, in these times, there were no true substance to her will, that it flowed freely and took on whatever form it wished. To him, she was exquisite in both her beauty as well as her mystery. She emerged from the dressing room. "Shall we go?"

"Of course." She said, taking his hand; fine boned with long tapered fingers. "I want to stop by Ann's, though, just to make sure she's all right."

"All right. Afterwards, do you want to go out to dinner? I have to go back to the gallery later this evening to take care of a few things, but it won't take me long."

"I think I'd rather stay in, if it's okay."

"Hmmm, candle light, a nice wine, and you. I can't think of anything I'd like better."

"Oh you." She slapped his arm playfully. "You spoil me, you know."

"I can't think of a person who deserves it more." He purred.

"Now your distracting me. Let's stop by Ann's, then we can go home, Prince Charming."

"What ever you say, M'lady." He bowed then swept his arm out dramatically.

"I thought I was the actor." She pouted.

"It must have rubbed off. What can I say?" He gave her a cocky grin.

She grabbed his arm and dragged him out of the building to the car. "Save it for later, Xander."

"I'm sorry." He opened the car door for her, and she climbed in.

"No, I didn't mean it like that. I'm just worried, is all."

"Well, we'll go see Ann, and you'll find out everything is just fine." He got into the driver's seat, and glanced over at her. "No worries, Love." He ran a finger along a crease in her brow, as if to erase it. "It'll be just fine, you'll see."

"I hope so." She said distractedly.

End Interlude Two

Drastic turning point. Hope I don't frighten or confuse anyone with the turn of events, but I began to feel the plot going head-long of a cliff, if ya know what I mean. Ah well, if I've ruined it, let me know. ____________________________ I need me You need you We want us to live forever Don't let the curtain fall Measure after measure of writing on the wall That burns so brightly It blinds us all. -Closer to Believing Emerson, Lake & Palmer ___________________________

Witness To Destruction

Chapter Eleven

The three travelers had been walking for two days when they finally reached the edge of the woods.

"I'm afraid I have to part company with you now." Gabriel said. "I have things I need to get back too. Good luck."

"Thank you for all your help. I really appreciate it."

"Yeah, thanks." Added Conner.

"It was no trouble." He bowed, then headed back into the woods.

I can't believe our luck, Conner. We should be to the edge of the Labyrinth in no time. I can almost see it." She set out a brisk pace, with nothing but her goal in mind.

---

Jareth sat on his throne, looking around the room agitatedly. The goblins were making enough noise to wake the dead. With a twist of his hand, he conjured a crystal out of the air. He stared into it a moment, brow furrowed in concentration. "Such a pity. I wish you would let me help you, Amalthya. I wish you'd let me help us both." A movement in the door way caught his attention. He banished the crystal, and turned to face the man.

"Gabriel?"

"Yes, Lord"

"Did you find her?"

"Well...

"Do not lie to me."

"Yes. Yes I found her. Look, what are you planing? I won't let you harm her."

"*You* won't let *me*?" Jareth cocked an eyebrow.

"I want your reassurance that you won't hurt her."

"Very well. You have it. But I'll have you know that harming her is the furthest thing from my mind. Just bring her here. I don't care how you do it, just make sure she doesn't know where you're taking her."

"Yes, Your Majesty. The messenger left the room silently.

Several of the goblins had stopped their revelry to look at Jareth. They might have been dull-witted, but they had enough sense to tell something had changed profoundly. He lept up on the throne in one fluid motion and peered down at them with a scathing look. "Well, what are you staring at? Haven't you anything better to do?" Several of the goblins began to back out of the nearest doorway. "You." He said, pointing a black-gloved finger at one of them. "Prepare a guest room. We're going to have a visitor. Now to make sure she doesn't escape." He mumbled to himself, calling up another crystal. ---

She continued down the stone corridor, getting more and more frustrated. "Look at that, Conner." She said, pointing to a lightning-blasted tree just visible over the walls.. "We've been going around in circles!" With an inarticulate cry of anger, she threw herself on the ground. "I give up!" Hot tears streamed down her face. "I wish I'd never even heard of Jareth or his stupid Labyrinth. Do you here me?" she screamed to the air. Conner sat a few feet off, watching her worriedly. She turned her head to look at him. "I'm sorry. I've been so inconsiderate of you this whole trip. I bet you have a family or friends you want to see after being down in those tunnels for all that time. I just dragged you along, never even asking..."

"No. I'd never go of an' leave you 'ere. It ain't safe."

"No, go on. I don't think I'll be needing your protection. I'm going back to the castle.

"*What*?"

"You heard me. There is no way I'm ever going to make it out of here. Might as well get it over with." She laughed mirthlessly. "I don't even know why I wanted to go home in the first place. Even if Jareth throws me in the dungeon it'll probably be better than going back. Or maybe I've just lost my mind. Who cares!" She laughed again.

"If yer sure..."

"Yes. Go on Conner. Thank you, you've been a true friend."

"You too." With that, the mouse scampered around the corner, and out of her life.

"Well, I'm back at the beginning again. Best be off." She started down the path again, feeling strangely confident in her new decision. It was almost certainly suicide, but heck, that hadn't stopped her before had it? She had set out to meet Jareth; he hadn't been what she'd expected. But she hadn't been what he was expecting either, she wagered. Defiantly not her mother's daughter. She'd lived a real life, learned real lessons. She was ready to confront him. Lost in these thoughts, she almost crashed into a figure rounding the corner in front of her. "Gabriel!"

"Hello Amalthya."

"Weren't you going back to your village?" She eyed him suspiciously.

"Well, no. I came to find you."

"To take me to the castle."

"Unfortunately, yes. He's promised not to hurt you, though."

"Ha! I'm not afraid of him." It wasn't a *compleat* lie, was it? "In fact, I was just heading there myself."

"What?"

"Conner said the same thing. Don't ask me why, because I'm really not sure, I just feel I have to do it."

"Are you all right?" He pressed a hand against her forehead. "Your burning up. You're not well, Amalthya. We'd best get to that castle."

"Now that you mention it, I'm not felling to well. Which way to that castle?" She collapsed on the ground.

"Just great. Jareth is going to *kill* me!" ----

"She *what*?"

"Collapsed on the ground, right at my feet. She was disorientated, and she has a fever."

"Stay put. I'll come retrieve her. I knew no good would come of this." Jareth sighed and disappeared in a swirl of garments and glitter. ----

She sat up with a start. "Wha- where am I?"

"With me of course." Came a cool reply from the shadows. Jareth stepped forward with all the liquid grace of a natural born predator.

"What happened?" Her head was pounding, she felt sick.

"You're unwell. You should never have gone out into the woods so ill-equipped." He gave her a ferocious smile. "Rest now." He left the room as stealthily as he had come and she was to tired to even attempt to figure out his perplexing mood. She sank back into the pillows and fell asleep.

End Chapter Eleven

Witness to Destruction Chapter Twelve, part one

The room was gorgeous. Decked to capacity with every frill or ornamentation, it seemed less a ball-room, as a menagerie for the people who flitted to and fro like so many exotic birds. Perfection.... Then her gaze caught something, a wisp of pale blond hair as the figure weaved in and out amongst the other dancers. She knew...the recollection died on her lips. She moved onward, pulled in and out on the tide of people, seeking the remembrance she'd know so briefly. Her frustration was mounting. She stopped being polite, and started shoving people outright. She had to find him. 'Him who?' She wondered momentarily. A song began to drift across the ball-room, light as a breeze, though she felt, inexplicably, that it was meant solely for her.

"To be closer to believing; To be just a breath away. On the death of inspiration, I would buy back yesterday. But there's no crueler illusion; There's no sharper coin to pay; As I reach out...it slips away."

Where was it coming from? That heavenly voice, soft and sensuous, that seemed to call to her very soul. Then, suddenly, he was there.

"Jareth." Her voice was a breathy whisper. She fell into his arms, safe, it seemed, as he continued to sing.

"From the opium of custom, to the ledges of extremes. Don't believe it till you've held it, Life is seldom what it seems. But lay your heart upon the table, And in the shuffling of dreams, Remember who on earth you are." Then he stopped. She looked up at him, and it seemed something had softened in his face. The stern lines had relaxed, his eyes glittered less harshly. "Amalthya." Her name rolled of his tongue beautifully. He ran his gloved hand back, smoothing her hair, then cradled her head against his chest. She stood there, caught in the embrace, not daring to speak, too afraid that the moment would shatter like so much glass. After what seemed an endless pause, she lifted her hand and eyes to his face. Her finger trailed the lines of his perfect mouth; then, with the tip of her satin gloved finger, she wiped away the faintest glimmering of a tear from his eye. He moved his lips to say something, but she silenced him.

"Shhh, I'm here now. No words." She brought her lips to his. Now time did shatter, as their passions met, and melded, seeming to form an unbreakable bond, as the world crashed down around them. ----

She awoke with a jolt. "Oh, wow. That was some dream." she whispered to the night air. "If only it were real." ----

Jareth paced his room. He had been awakened by a dream, a dream so perfect, he could still feel her lips on his. "Damn it!" A large mirror in an ornate gilded frame that hung above his desk fragmented as he punched with all his strength. The shattered image mocked him as he stared at his hand; lacerated with rivulets of blood streaming to the floor at his feet. He cursed again, and tore part of his bed-sheets and wrapped it round his injured hand. Then he laughed, softly at first, then louder and more hysterically. "Who would have thought?" He shouted to the air. "A mortal girl has reduced *me* to a gibbering madman!" It was simply too much. He sank into a chair before the roaring fire, still laughing to himself.

----

She lay awake in the bed when something splintered the quiet of the night time castle. There was the sound of tinkling glass, then fevered laughter. She gasped as a searing pain engulfed her hand, almost making her cry out. She bit her lip, and kept silent, but shivered as the laughter continued to echo throughout the building.

----

Interlude Three

They entered the apartment building, and went up to Amalthya's apartment. Silviet knocked on the door. "Ann?" No reply.

"Ann? This is Xander. We just stopped by to see if you were okay." Still nothing. "The door's locked, though, so she must have come home at some point."

"Not necessarily. I still have her spare key. I locked the door when I left." She took out her keys now, and unlocked the door.

"What are you doing?"

"Making sure she's okay. I'm her best friend, Xander, and she'd do the same thing for me."

"You're right, of course. You go on in. I'll wait out here." He didn't admit it to Silviet, but there was a feeling of dread building in the pit of his stomach. Ann may have been a dreamer, but she was also very responsible. She never left town without telling someone, never just disappeared. He didn't like this.

"Xander!" Came Silviet's voice from in the apartment. She sounded afraid. He sprinted in to find her standing in the kitchen, staring mutely at the counter.

"What is it?" She pointed, and he shifted his gaze to a bottle that rested there. He reached over and picked it up. "Who's Sarah?" He asked, reading the label.

"Ann's mom. She died a few weeks ago, I think I told you."

"Yes that's right. I don't like this, Silviet. I didn't want to worry you...but now with this. You said she'd been upset."

"Well yes. Even before her mother passed on, she seemed a little depressed. I thought it was just one of her moods. She'd get like that, sometimes, really melancholy and sad. Oh God, Xander. What if she killed herself? I'd never be able to live with it knowing I could have done something and didn't...." She started to sob.

"Here, here Love. Don't always assume the worst. Sometimes you're too dramatic for you're own good. I'll talk to the building super, have him keep an eye out, and I'll call the police if you want. Do you think we should contact her family?"

"All she has are her grandparents and an uncle who lives in London. I don't know how to contact them."

"Well, I'll call the police, and you can tell them what you know. They might be able to help. Come on, and lock the door behind you." They set about accomplishing the grim tasks set before them with equally grim determination. The police, it turned out were of little help. Ann hadn't been missing long enough to file as a missing person, but they were to call back if she didn't turn up within the week. The had, however, gotten her grandparent number. Silviet dialed the number with shaking hands. What would she tell them?

"Robert Williams." There was a pause. "Hello?"

"Um, Hello, Mr. Williams. This is Silviet DeCrisso. I'm a friend of your grand daughter. I'm afraid I have some bad news...." Her voice faded out. She couldn't speak.

"Miss DeCrisso?"

She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Xander took the phone from her hand. "I'm sorry about that Mr. Williams. This Is Xander Grey. I'm a friend too. The reason we called is Ann's gone missing. Silviet talked to her yesterday, when Ann got back, but we haven't seen her since. We thought you should know."

"You've called the police?"

"Yes, sir. Unfortunately, she hasn't been gone long enough to classify as a missing person, so there's not much they could do. We were wondering if you might have any information that could help us."

"I'm afraid not. I drove her to the airport myself. We haven't heard from her since."

"All right. We'll contact you if we learn more. And I hope you'll let me know if you hear from her." He gave him his number.

"Yes of course. I appreciate you taking the time to call. It must be late there."

"It was no problem. You had a right to know. Good-bye, Sir."

"Good-bye."

Xander put the phone down with a sigh, and sank down into a kitchen chair.

"I'm sorry I froze up like that. I just couldn't say anything!"

"It's all right." He drummed his fingers on the table. "I wish there was more I could do, Silviet, for both of you."

"Ever the protector, Xander. We've grown up. See? I'm not seventeen anymore."

Don't I know it!" He said with a laugh. "Come on. We haven't eaten yet. Unless you want to forgo food all together..." He gave her a wicked grin.

"Not tonight, Xander." Before she knew what was happening, he had swept her up into his arms.

"What do you think you're doing?" She cried in mock protest

"Sweeping you off you're feet. Isn't that what Prince Charming is supposed to do?" Before she could reply, he bent down and covered her lips with his own.

When the kiss ended, she glared daggers at him. "That was a low thing to do. You know I can't resist it when you do that."

He smirked an raised one eyebrow. "Is that so? I'll have to make a mental note of it." He carried her to the bedroom, and shut the door with his foot behind him.

End Interlude Three ___________________ "There's no sign of life it's just the power to charm I'm lying in the rain But I never wave bye-bye" Modern Love -Bowie ______________________

Witness to Destruction Chapter Twelve, Part Two

She sat in the darkness for a long moment, undecided. Should she go to him? She got up wearily, and left the room. She walked down the hall, stone floor cold on her feet. She paused outside the door, not hearing any noise from within. She opened the door cautiously, and stuck her head into the room. He was seated in a chair before the fire, she could see the top of his hair over the back of the chair, gleaming like spun gold in the firelight. She walked up along the chair, resting her hand lightly on it's back. His face was haggard as he stared into the flames, not acknowledge her presence. She didn't move, basking in the warmth of the blaze. After a while, he turned his head slightly, and looked at her. There was pain in his blue eyes, and she found herself wondering what she could do to ease it. Her gaze flickered down to the bloody bandage on his right hand. "What happened?" He gestured towards the shattered mirror on the far wall. "Let me look at it." She knew it was a stupid thing to say, he could have easily healed himself with his magic, but she kneeled down beside him anyway, and slowly unwrapped the makeshift bandage. She turned it over gently to inspect the cuts and grimaced as she realized there were still shards of the glass embedded in the wounds. She pulled them out as gingerly as she could, but noticed him wince all the same. "I'm sorry. Why did you do this to yourself?" He said nothing. Her eyes teared up. "I hope this isn't on my account. I'd hate for you to be so upset over me." She got up, and got a washcloth, a pitcher and basin, and brought it back over to the chair. She began to carefully wash away all the caked blood, looking into his face while she did so. "Say something, anything. Even if it's that you hate me, it'd be better than you silence." Tears fell silently down her cheeks. Now he did stir, and reached out his good hand to wipe them from her face.

"I'm sorry." His voice was soft. "I'm the one who's hurt you."

She stiffened. "No. What makes you think that?" Her voice was harsher than she had intended, and she watched with dismay as he withdrew his hand, and looked back to the fire. Dejectedly, she got up and tore another strip from the now ruined sheet. She re-bandaged his hand tenderly, and stood to go. "All right. I understand. Good night." On impulse, she bent down and kissed his lips lightly. She drew back suddenly, as if shocked, and her hand flew up to cover her mouth. "I- Oh, God!" She turned and fled the room, unaware of his eyes fixed on her retreating form. ---- He almost called out, almost called her back. Almost. Instead he stayed in his chair, holding her image in his minds eye. The fleeting memory of her as she had bent to kiss him, dark hair falling over her shoulders, green silk nightgown gleaning in the light. A green that paled in comparison to the brilliance of her eyes. For that moment, it seemed the whole of his future was known to him, that here, with her, was the key to eternity. It was gone just as quickly, like a ghost half-seen in a dark hall, and he was left with only it's haunting impression on his soul. ----

She wandered out of the castle, curious as to what the grounds surrounding it held. To her delight she found an array of well tended gardens filled with every flower imaginable, and quite a few she was sure had no counterparts on Earth. The colors were so much more vivid than any others she had ever beheld, that she found herself at a loss to describe him. After a long peaceful walk through hedg mazes and topiaries, she came upon a sight that took her breath away. Roses. Everywhere in the long formal garden grew roses. From wild rambling ones, to soft ruby-velvet longstems perfect for cutting. Their sweet perfume hung in the air, making her almost light-headed. She walked from bush to bush, examining the heavy blossoms that grew there, seemingly at the hight of bloom. She stopped before a bush of large peach blossoms, breathing in their spicy fragrance.

"That one's 'Souvenir de Malmasion' it's one of my favorites." Amalthya spun around with a start to find Jareth standing behind her. "Do you like it?"

"Y-yes. It's very pretty. What are you doing here?"

"Tending to my roses, of course." He took a small pruning shears he had been holding, and cut a few branches off the bush before her.

"These are yours?"

"Yes. No one touches these flowers but me. This is *my* garden. Is there a problem with that?" He cocked an eyebrow at her questioningly.

"No. No, of course not. I just never pictured you as the rose type."

"Oh, come now. You must not know me as well as you think."

"Maybe not. How's your hand?" She noted he still had it bandaged, while his other hand wore it's customary glove.

"My hand? Oh, it's fine, thanks to you."

"There's no need to thank me." She blushed, remembering the events of the night before.

"It was only polite."

"I see. Will you tell me the names of some of the other roses?"

"If you wish. This one here-" he said, pointing to a bunch with yellow centers and red edges, "-is 'Flaming beauty'. It's a hybrid tea rose. Only slightly fragrant, but it cuts well." He trimmed one and handed it to her. "Mind the thorns." He continued the tour, cutting one of each rose for her until she had magnificent bouquet. "These last two," he said, clipping a golden yellow rose and one that was scarlet and sliver, "Are 'King's Ransom' and 'Love' respectively." He handed them to her. She added the two to her armload.

"Thank you. They're very beautiful. You must have a real green thumb."

"I'll admit my magic helps, but I do think I have a gift for it."

She nodded in agreement. "You do. I should get these in water."

"Of course. Ask one of the servants for help. They've been ordered to obey your wishes."

"I will." She headed merrily back to the castle, leaving Jareth to his roses.

"Amalthya," he called just before she was out of earshot.

"Yes?"

"I have something I need to discuss with you later. Don't wander too far."

"All right." She called back. She continued on her way less spritly, wondering what it was he wanted to talk to about. ----

End Chapter Twelve, part two

Witness to Destruction, Chapter Thirteen

Ah yes, lucky thirteen, well, here we go! I'd like to note that it may seem the interludes have jumped ahead in time. I'm actually just getting them caught up. You know how inconsistent Labyrinth-time is.

Amalthya was humming to herself as she arranged the splendid bouquet of roses when she heard Jareth enter the room behind her.

"Amalthya."

"Yes?" She called, not turning around. She was trying her best not to look to anxious, but she couldn't keep from wondering what he wanted. He walked up beside her.

"You seem to be enjoying yourself."

"Yeah. You know what, I've been thinking it over, and I'm not even sure why I left here in the first place. It seems so right, like I'm finally where I meant to be. I'm afraid I'm probably not making a terrible amount of sense here, but I just can't describe it adequately. It feels like home to me, more than any other place I've ever been."

"I want you to come with me. There is something I have to show you." His tone was serious, and she began to feel slightly nervous. They walked down a long series of twisting hallways, and she doubted very highly that she'd ever be able to find her way back to her room. Jareth stopped in front of two heavily carved wooden doors. He pushed them open and led her inside. The room was enormous. Every wall was lined with shelves, and there must have been almost a thousand books. Stone staircases went up to the second level, and on the main floor there several large wooden tables and an array of chairs and stools. He led her to one table and pulled out a chair for her. "Have a seat. What I have to tell you may take awhile." He walked to a nearby shelf and after studying the titles for a moment, pulled out a huge leather volume, brought it to the table, and set it down before her. "I want you to know that Gabriel told me what happened to you in that village. I didn't know, and I'm sorry. Circumstances beyond even my control had tied my hands. There was nothing I could have done."

"What..."

"It's not important now. We'll get to what kept me from helping you soon enough. But before I can do that, I need to teach you a little history." He opened the book and began to turn the pages, some filled with script and others containing beautiful pictures. "I haven't always been the King here, though it may seem that way to many of the Labyrinth's inhabitants. This book contains the histories of many kings, of wars, the story of the Underground."

"I don't understand. Why is this important?"

"There is a chapter you may find of particular interest." He flipped through a large section. "I believe you are aware of the origin of the villagers in the forest?"

"Yes, Conner told me- Conner was this wonderful mouse I met- he told me that you let their ancestors come here."

"Well, not exactly. The mages came here long before I was king. They weren't from Earth to begin with, but some other, long forgotten place. They used the Underground as a passage way between their world and yours. Many of them had families on your world, and those descendants are the ones I let live here. There is a picture I want you to see." He turned the next page. "Here."

She gasped as she took in the portrait. "He- he looks almost exactly like my father." She murmured. "Only my father wasn't blond."

"Amalthya, I'd like you to meet your great-uncle, Tristan."

Interlude Four

"Your sure? Yes, thank you." Xander hung up the phone. "No word."

"Oh God. It's been a weeks Xander. She's dead, isn't she? Or she's left and she's never going to come back."

"Now, don't dispare. I'm sure she'll come back when she's good and ready. I just don't feel she's dead. No more crying or you're eyes will be all puffy for your opening night. Can't have that, can we?"

"No, you're right. I don't feel she's gone either. It just doesn't seem right. Help me get ready?"

"Why of course." ----

Xander squirmed in his seat. Silviet was doing a marvelous job as Juliet, but he couldn't keep his mind on the performance. He kept turning the small black velvet box over in his hands. He hoped she liked it. She was so upset about Ann, and it was the one thing he could think of that might cheer her up.

End Interlude Four ----

"My great-uncle? What are you talking about?" She searched his face for signs that he was joking, but found none.

"Your father's uncle. Your grandfather's brother."

"Your serious, aren't you?"

"Yes. Completely. I didn't realize it before now, though I don't know how I could have been so blind all these years. It was your eyes that finally jogged my memory. It's the one tie all of the descendants from that forgotten realm share."

"You too?"

"Yes, myself included, though it's complicated by my own royal heritage. My grandmother on my mother's side was one of them. Which brings me to the reason I couldn't help you earlier." He took her hands in his. "You have strong magic, Amalthya. But it's raw, unrefined. It reacts with the natural magic of my Labyrinth. That's why I could see you while you were on Earth, but not here. It acts as a dampening field. I want to train you, to help you harness this power you posses. Let me help you." He was so sincere. He seemed almost to be pleading with her.

"All right. I'll let you teach me, but you have to answer one question."

"Anything."

"You're terribly lonely here, aren't you?"

He said nothing for a moment, then heaved a great sigh. "Yes. You couldn't imagine."

"No, I don't think I could. How can one even begin to imagine what it's like to be alone for so long. it's no wonder you became so uncaring, so inhuman. The isolation must have made you dead inside." She touched her hand to his pale cheek, and looked into his clear blue, beautifully mis-matched, eyes. "Very well. You teach me how to use my magic, and I'll try to teach you to live again."

End Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

"This is impossible!" Amalthya cried in disgust.

"Come now, it's one of the simplest spells there is." Jareth smirked from a chair on the other side of the library. They had decided this was probably the best place for her to practice, as it was least likely to be destroyed if she accidentally blew something up.

Amalthya shot him a withering glare. "Are you sure you're not just using me as a cheep form of entertainment?" Her bare feet sloshed in the puddle of water on the floor. Her clothes were completely soaked. "Simplest spell there is." She mumbled. "Stupid water spell. "I still think this is all some perverted form of a wet T-shirt contest."

"I assure you, I have no idea what that is. Try it again. It wasn't quite right, but there was magic in it." She mumbled the incantation again, and concentrated on filling the bowl in front of her with water. To her amazement, it actually worked.

"I did it! I can't believe it actually worked!" In her excitement, she ran over to where Jareth sat, and gave him a hug. She pulled back immediately upon realizing what she had done, and her face flushed a fierce scarlet. "Oops." She mumbled, noticing that his clothes were rather damp now as well. "I guess I got a little excited." She bowed her head as her cheeks continued to burn with embarrassment.

"Well, it's -ahem- understandable." He cleared his throat in an attempt to cover up his loss for words. It had happened again. He had been flooded with inexplicable joy the moment she had successfully completed the spell. He attributed it to the strange link they shared, glad it conveyed positive emotions as well as pain and fear. Did she feel it to? He didn't know, as she had never given an indication that she had, though it was possible she just didn't recognize it's existence. He looked up and realized she was staring at him curiously, her embarrassment having apparently vanished.

"Are you okay?" He was looking at her vacantly, as if in deep thought.

"Fine." Was his curt answer. "Shall we try another?" ----

Interlude Five

Everyone in the cast was gathered around the huge table, celebrating the night's success. It had been a sell-out show, and tomorrow night's show promised to be the same. Xander stood up and tapped his fork against his wine glass. "Can I have everyone's attention?" He waited for the voices to quiet. "First of all, I want to congratulate you all on a wonderful performance. From where I sat, you guys were perfect. Here's to continued successes." He lifted his glass in a toast, and the rest of the table did the same. He took a sip and lowered the glass again. "There's just one thing that could make this night any better-I think I'm gonna need this." He took another sip, then set down the wine glass. "Silviet," He said, looking to where she sat next to him. He took the small velvet box out of his pocket and snapped it open. "Would you marry me?"

She couldn't speak for a moment. Her hand flitted up to mouth as she stared him. "Xander....I- Of course I will!" Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes as he slid the ring onto her finger. The diamond sparkled beautifully in the dim light of the restaurant. She clasped her arms around his neck. "Oh, Thank you!"

"I love you Silviet." He whispered in her ear and kissed her on the cheek. They took their seats again.

"About time!" Someone called out. Several chorused in agreement. Silviet leaned over and whispered in Xander's ear.

"You have no idea how happy you've made me."

"If it's half as happy as you've made me, I think I know."

End Interlude Five

----

Chapter Fourteen Continued

She was exhausted from her day of training, and flopped down on her bed. Her clothes had long since dried, and they had managed to mop up the small lake she had made on the floor of the library. She was just drifting off to sleep when there was a knock on her door. Her mind momentarily forgot her present location, and she yelled out an irate "What the hell do you want?"

"Such language." Jareth tisked at her from the doorway. "No way for a lady to behave."

"Oh, forgive me!" She cried, now fully awake. "I must have been drifting off and forgot where I was. I shared an apartment with my best friend for a year and a half. We got on each other's nerves sometimes. She was an actress."

"Ah, a clash of creative minds."

"Something like that." When was the last time she had even given Silviet a second thought? And here she had meant to kill herself and leave her best friend to discover her body. Her own callousness made her shiver. How could she have ever meant to do such a thing?

"-dinner."

"What? I'm sorry. My mind was someplace else."

"I said, you must be hungry. Would you care to accompany me to dinner?" Her stomach growled at the mere mention of food. Jareth smiled. "I'll take that as a yes."

The dining room was chaotic as goblins sat at low tables with rough benches and stuffed their faces. Jareth got their plates, which consisted of what she guessed was the Underground's version of roast beef, mashed potatoes and a mixed assortment of vegetables. They moved to a room just off the main dining hall and sat at the long wooden table there.

"Funny, I thought you'd make your own food." Amalthya commented as she began cutting her meat.

"I'm a king." He replied, as if that was all the enlightenment she needed. She raised an eyebrow and continued chewing. "Kings don't cook." He shrugged.

She swallowed her mouthful. "You mean you *can't* cook."

"I mean what I said." He replied indignantly. She rolled her eyes.

"Whatever." They continued eating in silence, and Amalthya looked for some way to break the silence.

"Hey, I've been meaning to ask you about something kind of weird that happened a few nights ago."

"Yes?"

"Well, before I came in your room that night-" She paused to take another bite. "I was awake, and I heard you break the mirror. The funny thing is, at the exact moment I heard the glass breaking, I got this searing pain in my right hand. Just like it had been all cut up, and well, you cut your right hand pretty bad." She ended lamely.

"You want to know if there is a connection." She nodded. Jareth sighed. "I was wondering if you'd noticed it. We appear to have formed some sort of-bond- for lack of a better word. I've known about it for awhile. It seems to transmit only very strong emotions or feelings. I first noticed it in the woods. You probably didn't notice it then because you were the one who was experiencing all those emotions."

"Yeah." She said quietly. "But how?"

"How did it happen? I'm not entirely sure. But I have a theory. Perhaps it was all those years of you're wanting to be here and when you finally made it, your unrefined magic reached out to the one person you felt you could trust." She looked skeptical. "As I said, it's only a theory." He mused over it some more. If the link transmitted the emotions of another, could it also transmit dreams? "Why were you awake that night?"

"What?"

"You said you were already awake when you heard me break the mirror." He wasn't at ease with the idea that she had heard him in his moment of weakness."

"I-I had a dream." Her face colored. "Why?"

"Just curious." He said nonchalantly.

"If you know something your tell in me..."

"What do you care? I probably doesn't even concern you."

"That's not fair!" She cried, then blushed at the sound of her mother's over-used line coming from her mouth.

"It rarely is, Amalthya, it rarely is."

End Chapter Fourteen

---------------------- Accidentally, like a martyr. The hurt gets worse and the heart gets harder. -Accidentally Like a Martyr Warren Zevon ---------------------- Witness To Destruction Chapter Fifteen

The castle was still this late in the night, as she sat in a comfortable chair in a small room off the main library. Open in her lap she held the large leather-bound book Jareth had shown her two days ago. She had tried vainly for sleep for a few hours, but as time ticked it's way closer towards the dawn she found herself hopelessly awake. Amalthya had wandered into the library and found the book lying on the table. She had picked it up, retreated to this little annex, and started a fire in the grate. She flipped through page after page of history, glancing at portraits of people she didn't know, tracing her own roots in the family trees. So this was her father's family. She had always wondered about it, and found it nice to have this tangible link to her past. She had known her paternal grandmother, though she had died when Amalthya was only eleven. She remembered her as a sweet old woman with white hair and grey eyes. Eyes Amalthya always remembered as sad, especially when they looked at her son.

"Why are you so sad, Grandma?" She had asked her once.

"Oh, don't you fret over me, Dear. I'm just wishing for things past, is all."

"Oh." As she grew older, she began to understand her grandmother's concern. Her father didn't seem to take any joy in like. There was nothing that made happy, with the exception of his daughter. She knew now that she had been to hard on him when all her wanted was for her to have a good life. It was just his distaste for her dreams and fantasies that tore them apart. Of course she understood his position now, at least a little. Knowing his background, it made scene that he'd try to distance himself from anything that reminded him....of what? He thought process screeched to a halt. He must have been afraid of something, or someone to react so vehemently. He had tried so hard to live a 'normal' life, and in the end, it was his death. She felt a tear trickle down her cheek. Funny, she had not cried for him in all these months, but now-now she felt as if some huge pent up emotion had escaped it's carefully built prison and threatened to overwhelm her. She leafed through the book some more in an attempt to ward off the tears, and in doing so found an interesting scrap of history. It was contained in the text on the page facing the portrait of Tristan, a summery of his life to date. It seemed Tristan's brother, Julian-her grandfather- had been banished to Earth almost one hundred years ago. But her father had been only forty five when he had died a little more than a year ago. she calculated the dates quickly in her head. That meant Julian had been on Earth fifty five years before her father had even been born. "I guess they don't age, even on earth."

There was a quiet noise out in the library; the kind of discreet noise a person makes when they don't want to startle someone. She turned her head to the side and saw Jareth holding two steaming earthenware mugs. He came in and set one down beside her, glancing at the book as he did so. "Catching up on some history?"

"Couldn't sleep." She sighed. Jareth only nodded. She took up the cup, reveling in it's warmth against her cold hands. She breathed in the steam. Hot chocolate. She took a cautious sip and almost cried out. Not because it scalded her, for it was, in truth, the perfect temperature. Just hot enough to burn a little as you swallowed it, without actually scalding your tongue in the process. She almost cried out because it was made with real chocolate and fresh cream. The way her father had always made it for her on winter nights, even though it never got truly cold in California. It was one thing she always missed on icy nights in New York. Her father's cocoa. It wasn't until a salty tear fell into the cup and disturbed the tranquil surface, that she realized she was crying. She hadn't cried for her father in all these long months, unwilling-or unable- to realize just how much she had missed him in the long years in New York as she struggled to survive. How much she had loved him. And now, she couldn't even tell him!

Jareth was in a bitter-sweet agony. Grateful that Amalthya had found a part of herself that was capable of loving and of receiving love in return, but upset that it had torn her so completely, and overwhelmed her. Overwhelmed him. "You have two choices", fate seemed to tell him. "Act now, or forever hold your pain." He laughed at the strange twisting of the old vow. So the guillotine of time hung grimly just above his head. A wrong move, and it would sever forever his ties to humanity. The hurt would grow, and his heart would grow harder. All the callousness Amalthya had rubbed away with her unwitting kindness would grow back stronger than ever. He knew the pain of that, Sarah had given it to him with her brisk refusal after he had come to her plainly exposed. She had cut to the quick. "Act now..." The shadows sang.

A pair of gloved hands took the cup from her, setting it down gently on the table beside her. So total was her misery that she didn't act as a pair of strong arms took her from the chair and out onto the balcony, didn't move as the same arms held her tight as they sat together in the hazy half-light that comes just before the dawn. He held her as she cried and cried, as she had never truly done before. She cried for her mother, she cried for her father, she cried for the years of loneliness that closed in on her and drug her down like water takes a drowning victim. He cried with her, for all the times he couldn't help her, had watched her suffer from afar, had failed her. They were one in the sorrow. For sometimes, the past cannot be forgotten until it has been hauled, kicking and screaming, into the harsh light of day, and faced head on. Otherwise it builds like and inverse mountain; bigger hurts pilling on top of the smaller ones till it becomes too top heavy and it falls, crushing out the life beneath it.

The sun rose in brilliance, full with promise, heavy and red with a secret passion. It cast a rosy hew on the whole of the Underground, and never had Jareth seen it look so beautiful. "I love you." came the whisper from his lips, so suddenly that he didn't even realize what he'd said before the words died in the air. It was done. He had given of himself completely, torn his heart to pieces to utter those three words. It was his final judgment. She would accept him wholly, and they would sore of to an unknown future, happy for whatever pain or sorrow it held. Or he would die here. It was that simple. The blade of the guillotine fell lower.

Chapter Sixteen

The words dove to her heart and slashed into it's pool which had long been stagnant. It stirred the murky depths, and caused something to glow, to shine with such brilliance that she thought she would die from the joy of it. There were no words to express the total encompassing warmth of it, the sudden realization that she was not alone. Here, holding her tenderly, was the embodiment of all that she had been searching for for so long. Someone with which she could share her hopes and dreams, her disappointment and sorrows. She saw spread wide before her the twisting path of the future, sometimes dark and forbidding, sometimes bathed in a golden glow. The road that looped behind her was grey, desolate, and dreary. She had walked it alone and she could see her solitary footprints in the dust. But now, another set of footprints appeared beside hers. She would never walk alone again. Tears welled up in her eyes as she looked at him. Her lips trembled. "I know you." She said, placing her hand on his cool, tear-stained cheek. "And I could never forget...." The same words as the beginning. They had come full circle. All that was needed was the closing of that long unfinished sentence "That I love you. I have always loved you." The tears poured forth as if from a broken levee, but for the first time in her life, they were tears of joy.

The guillotine vanished, along with a weight that had so long bore down upon him. She loved him. After an eternity, he had found someone who loved him. Not for his power, not for his kingdom. For himself. Someone who was not afraid of who he was or what in entailed. He had found happiness. And for what it was worth, he wouldn't take back a moment of torment or pain that had finally brought them to this point. For what were such petty complaints against something as wondrous and all encompassing as love? In his elation he lept to his feet, bringing her up with him and twirled her around as one would a child. She laughed, the most beautiful sound in the world to him, and her green eyes sparkled like emeralds. "I love you!" It was a proclamation, called out with the confidence and brashness of one madly in love. Nothing had ever felt so wonderful. His voice echoed across the Labyrinth, and every creature stopped and turned it's head towards the castle. The world seemed born anew.

The pair received strange looks as they waltzed through the castle's halls, running like school children into the gardens. They fell panting into the green grass in the center of the rose garden laughing together, trying to catch their breath. Then they grew quite, lying on their backs, gazing up at the azure sky. Jareth rolled onto his side, propped up on one elbow. He looked down on Amalthya, twirling her hair playfully with one finger. "Did I mention I love you?"

"Only about a million times." She laughed and smiled up at him.

"Gods, I must have lost my mind!" He laughed as well. He sat up and brushed grass from his clothing. She did like wise.

"It's a view I've long held." She smirked. He lunged at her but she danced away sprightly as an imp and laughed before running down a near-by garden path. He followed and she led him on a merry chase, always one step ahead, always just out of his reach. He played along for awhile but grew impatient. He transported himself directly in front of her path, and as she rounded the corner, she ran smack into him. "No fair. That's cheating." She replied indignantly.

"Would it be cheating if I taught you how?"

She seemed to consider it for a moment before a smile broke out on her face. "Okay. What do I do?"

"Take my hands and close your eyes."

She did as he instructed. "Okay...Now what?"

"Concentrate on a place. Picture it in your mind."

"Got it."

"Now, go there."

"What?"

"Don't open your eyes! Keep concentrating. Just will yourself there."

She scrunched her face up in concentration, trying her hardest to make it work. The air seemed to tingle around her body, and suddenly the ground beneath her feet changed from soft grass to hard stone. She opened her eyes. They were standing in the middle of her bedroom. "Wow. That was so cool. You didn't help me?"

"No. I merle transported myself along with you. I doubt you're strong enough to move both of us. It's a difficult thing to do. Interesting choice of locations, by the way." He smirked.

"Get your mind out of the gutter." She teased. "I didn't get any sleep last night. I'm tired," Amalthya pulled a twig out of her hair and wrinkled her nose in disgust. "and in need of a bath. I suggest you do the same." She reached up and pulled some blades of grass from Jareth's hair.

"Hmm, I agree." He vanished with a spray of glitter. Amalthya had the goblin servants draw up a bath for her. When she was clean and dry she put on a fresh dress of blue silk and left the bathroom. To her surprise, Jareth was sitting on her bed, back against the headboard, long legs crossed in front of him.

"What are you doing in here?" She asked suspiciously.

"Come sit here." He patted the bed next to him. "I promise to behave." She crossed the room and sat next to him. He wrapped one arm around her and she rested her head on his shoulder. He sighed and inhaled the clean scent of her hair. She snuggled closer. And within minutes, they were both fast asleep.

End Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

"Mmmm." She blinked her eyes a couple of times. The light from the setting sun poured in the room from the window on the opposite wall. She got up, still half asleep, and closed the curtain with more force than necessary, mumbling curses under her breath. Jareth sat, still propped against the head board, regarding her with a humored smile.

"And I was having such a nice dream too." She continued to mutter, scowling at him in annoyance.

"I know."

"What?" She was still groggy and didn't think she'd heard him right.

"It was a nice dream. Though I'm interested in what you intended to do with that whipped cream..."

"How the hell do you know about that?" She yelled, clearly surprised.

"I had it to." He smiled smugly.

"That- the-what-" She sputtered. "The thing you wouldn't tell me at diner. You *knew* the link transmitted dreams too, didn't you?"

"I suspected it."

"You smug bastard!" She smashed him in the face with a pillow, which promptly exploded all over the bed in a cloud of white feathers. She fell onto the bed in hopeless giggles. There were feathers caught in his hair. Before she knew it he had pinned her to the bed with a hand on each of her shoulders. He smiled down at her.

"You know I shall have to retaliate now."

"Oh, really?"

"Yes." His grin got wider.

"Don't you want to know what I was going to use that whipped cream for first?" She teased.

"Do tell." she motioned for him to lean down so she could whisper into his ear. "Really?" He cocked an eyebrow.

She nodded.

"That gives me an idea...."

The goblins in charge of guarding the door panicked at the shrikes that echoed from the room. They calmed down, however, and eventually slunk away guiltily when the sounds changed to those of a different sort all together.

----

She stood by the window, silver moonlight making her a sweet silhouette. He smiled.

He was sitting in the bed, sheets at his waist, torso naked and white in the pale light that spilled in and puddled on the floor of the room. His golden hair sparkled slightly.

"Come back."

"I'm just looking at it all. It's so beautiful. It must be nice to live in a place like this."

He had gotten up, sheet wrapped around his waist, and come to stand beside her. "You could live here to, you know."

"Jareth, are you asking me what I think you are?" He shrugged. She laughed. She didn't mean to, but she laughed. "I'm sorry. What ever happened to dating? You know, trying this thing out to make sure it's not just some strange tropical fever. Or plain old lust?" But even as she said it, she knew it wasn't true. He looked hurt momentarily.

"You want to go home."

"Yeah. Just for a little while. I have to think things out. But I *do* love you and God forbid anything ever changes that. I know my family must be worried about me. I've been here for a little over a month. How much time has passed there?"

"Almost half a year."

"It'd be almost Christmas then. I have to go to them, Jareth. They must be terribly worried..."

"I could make them forget." It was almost a whisper.

"No. Even if they didn't know-didn't remember me, I'd still remember them. I don't think I could bear that." She fell quite, looking at the Labyrinth glowing like platinum in the light of the low moon. He took her in his arms, and she leaned her head against his chest.

"I understand." He said finally. "It was....selfish of me to think I could keep you here. You're not some bird to be kept in a cage. I think you'd lose your spirit, and with it your allure if I did that. Go to them."

She pulled away, but kept ahold of his hands. "You make it sound as if I'm going away forever. I'll come back, I promise. And I can always visit."

"You can." He nodded.

"And you can always come to New York." She smiled.

"You are about the *only* thing that could ever make me go there." He laughed. He pulled her back in close, kissing her forehead. "But you won't go tonight."

"No....not tonight."

End Chapter Seventeen.

Witness to Destruction Epilogue

Amalthya took one last look at the land that had become her home. "I guess this is good-bye. For now, at any rate." She smiled sadly. The thought of leaving him was tearing her apart. But she couldn't stay anymore. For the first time she could remember, she actually cared about her family and friends. It wasn't that she didn't love them, just that she'd been so trapped in her depression that she hadn't given their feelings a second though. She had always just assumed they'd be happier without her. That depression was a specter that hung over her head. She knew there was always a chance that it could come back and overwhelm her again. And she knew that by leaving now she was risking the tremulous happiness she had found. But it had to be done.

"It appears so." Jareth embraced her for a moment then stepped back. "Are you ready?"

"Yes." She sounded shaky. She took a deep breath. "Yes." She said more firmly.

His magic made the air tingle around her, she could feel herself leaving. "I love you!" She called out. Then she was gone.

----

Xander and Silviet walked back to their apartment slowly. Snow fell around them peacefully, masking the pain they were feeling. The memorial had been beautiful. Ann's family had not yet given up hope that she would be found, but her friends in New Your had grown to accept the truth. She was never coming back. "It was pretty, wasn't it?" Silviet said finally. "And the flowers, she always liked roses."

"Yes. And you did a wonderful job speaking. Everyone was touched."

"It seems so unfair Xander. I keep thinking I should have done more for her....but there really wasn't anything to be done was there?"

"No. We couldn't have helped it." His voice was subdued. ----

Amalthya appeared in her apartment. There was snow falling outside her windows, fresh and crisp. The city actually managed to look clean for once. "Has it really been so long?" She continued her tour, noticing that someone had come and put the cartons away; had cleaned up her paints, stacked the blank canvases. She walked back into the kitchen and picked up the phone, dialing the number hesitantly.

"Hello?"

"Grandpa?" Her voice sounded small in her ears.

"Ann? Is that you? Stay on the line dear. Let me get your grandma." There was noise in the background, then a click as a second phone was picked up. "Ann? Are you still there dear? How are you?"

"I'm fine Grandma. I wanted to let you know I'm home now."

"Where have you been?"

"I can't explain right now, I have to go. But I promise to call again tomorrow, okay? I'll explain things then."

"All right. We're so glad to finally hear from you."

"Yeah, I'm sorry. I love you guys, and I'll call tomorrow."

"Okay. Bye dear."

"Good-bye."

Click. One down. She stared at the phone, then dialed Silviet's number, but a message said it was no longer valid. She tried Xander's. Silviet answered.

"Hello Silviet...."

---- Xander and Silviet were sitting at the kitchen table when the phone rang. "I'll get it." Silviet reached over and picked up the phone. "Hello?"

Xander watched as her eyes teared up. "What is it?"

Silviet held out the phone, hand trembling badly. "It's Ann." HE took the phone from her.

"Ann? Where are you?"

"I'm at home now. I tried Silviet's number first but it said it was out of service."

"She's living with me now. Where have you been Ann?"

"I think it would be better if I came over."

"Of course. I'll see you soon then."

"Yeah, Bye."

"Good-bye." He hung up the phone. "She's on her way here.

----

After a tearful reunion, the three sat down at the table, and Ann began to explain things. "I was sick. Not physically, really. But I was so depressed. I had to go away. I had to go someplace I could get help."

"You're better now?"

"I can't say for sure. But I think I could be. I'm just so happy to see you again. I couldn't call...."

"That doesn't matter now." Xander said soothingly. All that matters is that you're home and you're happy."

"Yeah." She smiled.

"And I have some news for you." Silviet beamed. "Xander and I are getting married!"

"Really? That's great. Let me see your ring." The two girls fussed over the ring and fell into girl talk about dresses and halls and dates. Xander just laughed and shook his head. "Looks like things are back to normal."

"Better than normal." Ann smiled, and went back to her conversation. Her life had never been happier and her future never brighter. Although sad she couldn't tell them the whole truth, she knew that one day she would.

"Now all we need to do is find your Mr. Right." Silviet kidded.

"I think I already have." She murmured.

"What?"

"Oh, nothing." Ann replied sweetly. "Now what kind of flowers? I think I know someone who could get you the most wonderful roses...."

THE END