Disclaimer: The Labyrinth scripts, movie, and books belong to their respective creators. This story is presented solely for entertainment purposes. The story and its characters and entities are fictional. Any likeness to actual persons, either living or dead, is strictly coincidental.
Ancient Law
It was the hour of midnight. The grandfather clock that announced it so rang deep and hollow. The sound echoed throughout the house, colliding with itself, filling every corner.
Wrapped in a heavy blanket and sitting on a chaise longue on the side porch, Sarah turned her head toward the open door as the last tone faded away. It sounded oppressive and foreboding-everything did on this night. It was mid-winter and the snow that blanketed her world smothered the raucous that normally prevailed.
Her mood was dark, her heart was heavy, and her soul was void of anything. Sighing, she turned her head back toward the side-yard and waited. She had stopped counting the days, the weeks... Now, it was only years that mark the passing. And her hope for a quick reprieve had faded along with them.
Sarah stood and dropped the blanket, allowing the cold to embrace her. She reveled in the sensation: the numb which crept in, the shivering that took over as her temperature dropped. She hugged herself, gripping her shoulders, and with a deep breath, took in the night air. It was clean and sharp, sending an occasional twinge of pain up to her eyes.
Dropping her arms, her hands closed around wood. Jerking them back in surprise, she realized she had traveled the width of the porch and was leaning against the curved balustrade. She had walked unknowingly to the edge.
Placing her hands on the railing she leaned out and stared into the black night. There was neither moon nor stars. She could not see anything, but she did not need to see. She knew what lay out there. A world that was brutal and cruel and dark. There was no good in this world for her-save one.
A gentle wind drifted by, stirring the snow. She could hear it, shifting like sand. She turned her head to follow the sound as it moved across the yard. A sudden need to be in the middle of it overwhelmed her. Ignoring the protest of her feet at the burning cold, she made her way down the steps, careful not to slip. Stopping on the bottom step she paused for a moment, creating a memory of that untouched expanse of white.
The crunch of snow under her feet signaled the end of its perfection. Sarah gasped at the iciness that sent tingles up her legs and around her midsection. Step by cautious step she moved out, creating a trail of footprints behind her that marked her passing. After a minute or two she could feel neither the cold nor the ice. Her numbed outside matched her numbed inside. Already, his visits had missed them twice. She felt abandoned. Alone. Bereft of any comfort.
The wind shifted, moving in the opposite direction. It flowed around her, taking with it her worries and anguish. At the same time, the snow gently covered her footsteps, leaving no trace she was ever there. Opening her arms, she welcomed it, twirling around in a blur of forgetfulness.
She let out a startled yelp at the sudden sensation of being lifted into the air. On instinct she struggled, but found strong arms holding her tightly against a warm body. The barely contained anger in his voice caused her to still.
"If you wish to die, there are faster and better methods."
She looked up to see the outline of that wild hair moving slightly with the breeze. She saw the sharp edges of his face: brow, nose, and chin. He had eyes that reflected, like an animal's, what little light the dark contained.
He carried her back to the porch and placed her on the chaise. Frowning, he noticed her bare feet and her skin tinted an unhealthy shade of blue. He wrapped her within the blanket from chin to toes. Removing his gloves, he slid his hands underneath, kneading her feet to warm them and bring back life. He was gentle, massaging from her ankles out to her toes.
Sarah shivered violently, realizing her condition and her stupidity. Her voice was shaky as she tried to speak. "J-J-Jareth... Cold... I... I d-d-d-didn't mean..." All she gained was a violent look of disapproval which silenced her.
As the blood flowed back to her feet, their color changed from blue to bright red. Sarah cried out at the pain that accompanied it and tried to pull away, but Jareth refused to let go and applied more pressure. Tears escaped as she felt her extremities slowly return to life.
Her feet finally began to take on a normal beige hue. Once Jareth was certain she would heal with no ill effects, he moved closer and wiped away the tears as he cradled her face within his hands. His disapproval still showed and his voice was firm, but he spoke softly. "Never do that again."
"I only-"
Her thoughts were forgotten as Jareth covered her mouth with his. She felt his worry and relief beneath the anger of his kiss. Returning it with passionate reassurance, she freed her hands and placed them against his chest, spreading her fingers wide. His hands slid from her face and he moved them around her lower back, pulling her close to him.
When their lips parted, Sarah pushed her head under his chin and buried her face. "You're here..." she whispered. Breathing slowly, she inhaled the smell of his skin. She tilted her head to place her lips against his Adam's apple, feeling him swallow in reaction. Eagerly soaking up the warmth that radiated from his body, she noticed yet again how her head fit perfectly into the curve of his neck.
Her arms had found their way around him and they held each other for a few moments. Jareth sighed and tightened his grip. He did everything within his power to keep her out of danger and yet she continued to throw herself into the middle of it. "Sarah..."
"I know, I know..." She pulled her head away to look at him. Her heart twisted at the sight of his disapproval. To her, it was rejection and rejection from him hurt like hell. Only she would never show him. He expected her to be strong, as he was. She watched him close his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, his expression was blank.
He caressed her cheek and kissed her again, brushing his lips against hers for a time. As a human, she was so fragile. Despite that condition, he admired her strength and her determination. She was fiercely loyal to him, but easily became upset at the slightest indication that it might be in question. She tried to keep it from him, but he knew, nonetheless. He sometimes wanted to keep her confined in one of his crystals, forever protected from harm.
He lifted her hand and kissed her palm and fingertips. He kept his voice soft and soothing. "Try to stay out of trouble, hmm?"
She nodded, pulled her knees to her chest and would not look at him. "How long?"
There was a brief pause. She always asked and he never said-specifically. "Not enough."
"I see." She kicked out of the blanket and stood, sidestepping his grasp as he reached for her. She made her way back to the railing. Blinking rapidly, she tightened her grip around the railing, twisting her hands back and forth. The painful friction between skin and wood gave her something else to focus on. She would not cry. Tears solved nothing.
She heard his sigh. She did not have to see him, she knew the exact position he would be in: feet planted firmly on the floor, elbows resting on his thighs, head bowed, with his left hand covering his face. It was an automatic pose he took at the slightest irritation-an idiosyncrasy of which she doubted he was aware.
"Sarah, please, not again. We have little time as it is and I would prefer we use it to our advantage."
Although she tried to stay civil and be grateful for his presence, the anger at the unfair position she found herself in always rose to the surface immediately after his arrival. "Do you think I don't know how little time we have? I have spent years counting the seconds, the minutes, the hours..." She retreated further into the dark corner of the porch. "All I know is time. Time that is unyielding and always going forward. Never back. It never stops."
She turned to face him, though she couldn't see much from her current location. "You once reordered time for me. Why not now?"
"Sarah, I cannot. You know this."
Ignoring the sadness in his voice, she scoffed and turned her back on him once more. "Can't? Or won't?" She crossed her arms and stood stiff in defiance.
Jareth left the chaise and closed the distance between them, wrapping his arms and his cloak around her, pulling her to him. He rested his chin on her head and said nothing, knowing that she would relent in a few moments and relax against him. He would prefer not to start each visit this way, but Sarah would never let go of the issue.
He heard her huff and felt her soften as she leaned back. Normally she would make some sort of comment about his inability to change things, but tonight she was silent. Grateful that, for once, she had not continued the argument, he simply took pleasure in having her in his arms. He took a deep breath in and savored her scent: clean, mixed with snow and wind - elements of her world. This was Sarah. His Sarah.
Bending his head, Jareth growled into her ear. "I would destroy time if it meant this nightmare would end. You are not the only one to have suffered. Do not forget that."
Sarah turned in his arms to face him. She touched his face and scolded him. "I am not that selfish. I'm reminded of that fact every single day. I haven't forgotten." She brought his forehead down to meet hers. "I know you would change things if it were possible."
He pulled her closer and kissed her. It took everything she had not to fall apart. Jareth never said much in the way of love. His actions shouted them loud and clear. He let her rant and rave at him and allowed her to blame him for things neither one of them could control. He always pushed back, but never did anything out of spite or hate. Sometimes she felt undeserving of his gentle attention, and right now it was too much to bear. She pushed away and headed toward the other side of the porch, into the low glow that filtered out through the side door.
He frowned as he watched her run away again. He took a step to follow her. "Sarah..."
"Momma?"
They turned to find the child standing in the doorway. She held a stuffed Firey in one hand and rubbed her eyes with the other. She yawned. "I had a bad dream."
Sarah scooped up the girl into her arms, lavishing her with kisses. "I'm sorry, baby." She sat them down in the chaise. "You want to tell me about it?" The child shook her head and snuggled closer. Sarah tucked the blanket around them. Rocking the girl, she softly sang a lullaby.
Jareth watched them. He had been forgotten, standing within the shadow. Sarah's arms cradled the precious bundle, their heads put together in such a way he could not tell where she ended and the child began. Sarah's eyes were closed, she radiated contentment. She was calm now, peaceful. Mother and daughter looked much alike: dark hair, hazel eyes, a smattering of freckles across the nose. Quickly extinguishing a pang of jealousy, he emerged slowly, so as not to startle them.
The child noticed him and squealed in delight. "Mr. Jareth!" She fought against her mother's embrace and the blanket, dropping the stuffed animal to the floor and ran to him. He picked her up and she hugged him tightly, burying her face into his hair and whispering sadly into his ear. "You promised to come back soon. I waited. You promised."
He hated this. Disappointing an adult was one thing, dashing the hopes of a child was quite another. Adults could reason, could comprehend. But children... There were enough of them wished away to him to know what damage could be done. He stroked her hair and whispered back. "I am sorry, my dear. The goblins were being naughty. I would never break any promise to you on purpose."
The child pulled back to look him in the eye. He watched her purse her brows in concentration. "Well...okay. Tell them you'll put them in the Bog if they don't behave. That's what momma does if I'm not good."
Jareth threw his head back and laughed. "I shall remember that." He closed his eyes as she giggled and hugged his neck. Relief flooded him. She was not damaged. Not this time.
Sarah picked up the forgotten toy, watching the quiet exchange between the two. Her own heart echoed the feelings that were so clearly written across Jareth's face as he spoke to the girl. This was the hard part, having to explain to the child why he could not be here more often. Especially when she adored him so much.
The girl began to chat away and Jareth nodded at intervals, paying close attention to her ramblings. It had been so long since they were last this way. Jareth's returns were, at the moment, more infrequent. Sarah fervently prayed that it would not be forever.
Blinking rapidly, she stood and joined them. She handed over the toy and questioned: "Shouldn't a certain someone be going back to bed? I think you've been up long enough, sweetie."
"But, momma..." the child halted at the look on her mother's face. She bowed her head and pouted.
Jareth smiled and tilted the girl's head up. "How would you like a bedtime story?"
Her face instantly transformed to one of hope instead of unhappiness. "Can he, momma? Please?"
Sarah smiled and tweaked the child's nose. "It's 'may he?' And, yes, he may." She turned her face up and tapped her cheek. "Kiss."
The girl leaned over and kissed her mother a time or two. She waved as Jareth carried her into the house. " 'Night, momma!"
Sarah blew her another kiss. "Goodnight, baby." She stood at the doorway and watched them head up the stairs. The child had resumed her chatting, Jareth nodding his head. Once they were out of sight, she opened the screen door and entered the dining room.
The difference in temperature between outside and in made her want to go back. She had become accustomed to the cold and the house felt like a furnace. She headed into the kitchen anyway to put the kettle on for tea. Catching sight of herself in the mirror over the sink, she stopped and blinked in surprise. She had forgotten how little clothing she had on: a thin tank-top and a pair of shorts. It was no wonder Jareth scowled so when he found her wandering around in the snow.
Leaning closer, she peered at herself in the mirror. Her eyes were red, her hair needed a comb ran through it, she was pale, her skin was oily... Shaking her head, she turned off the water, placed the lid on the kettle, and set it on the stove. After turning the flame to medium, she went back to stand in front of the mirror, staring at her nearly unrecognizable reflection.
Reaching up to touch her face, she studied it, noticing the crow's feet, the laugh lines, and the brow creases that were beginning to make their first appearances. Was this really her? Had she grown so old? Had she lived her life for so long?
She guessed that most of her aging had taken place these last five years, years that had been spent in worry and anxiety, years that had been filled with misgivings and fear. All because of the law. That stupid Ancient Law. Undeniable. Irreversible.
Growling, she flung the potholder in her hand across the bar and into the dining room. Hearing it slide across the floor, she went to pick it up and plopped down into a dining room chair. With a deep breath, she crossed her arms on the table and laid her head on them, her hair spreading out to hide her face.
She had been so thrilled the day she discovered she was pregnant. Telling Jareth had been the pinnacle. Lately they had not been on the best of terms. She was too stubborn, he was too proud. They clashed over petty things. When she told him the good news, on the surface, he had seemed just as excited as she was, if not more so.
Looking back, she could see now...there had been a hint of despair and sadness she refused to recognize. Despite the good news that had traveled with great fanfare throughout the Goblin Kingdom, she had chosen to ignore the quick, nervous glances she had received whenever she went out into the city. She had avoided the servants that bent their heads together and whispered to one another after she walked by. The uneasiness that knotted her insides had been firmly pushed aside.
Two days went by before she found out the truth. Jareth had taken her to their chambers and sat her down in a chair. He had knelt in front of her, her hands firmly ensconced in his, a vacant expression on his face. She knew enough to be silent and they stared at one another for so long, she was afraid they might be frozen that way for eternity. Finally, unable to bear it anymore, she whispered, as if anything louder would be dangerous...
"What is it? I'm a big girl, Jareth, I can handle it."
He bent over to kiss the hands of his beloved; the one who brought him the greatest joy and caused the greatest pain. He stood, letting go, and retreated to the window along the wall next to her. Sarah watched him as he stared out into space, his breathing light and shallow.
She propelled herself out of the chair, clenching her hands, the hidden anxiety of the previous days pushing forth from its hiding place, causing her to ache from the inside out. "Jareth, tell me what's wrong. I have to know. Don't shut me out." She placed a hand on his forearm.
Quickly he turned and gathered her into a tight embrace, cradling her head against his shoulder. Her fear turned to panic. She fought free of him and stepped back a few paces. He said nothing, only stared at her with such a heartbreaking look that it made her want to scream.
"Say something!" she shouted, allowing the rising panic to put force behind her words.
"Sarah..." he began, holding his hands out to her. "There's something you must know..."
"What don't you want to tell me?" In an effort to work off the frightening emotion, she began to pace.
He tried to stop her, to make her sit down again. "Sarah, please, this isn't good for you or for-"
Panic gave way to anger and she wrenched away from him again. "Don't tell me what is good or not good for me. Until I get some answers, you don't have permission to be concerned about my condition."
Jareth forcefully sat her down in the chair, kneeling down in front of her once more, holding her there. "You may decide to be careless, but I will not. I will not have you deliberately hurting yourself or the child."
They glared at one another for a moment. Jareth gave in first, letting go of her and running a hand through his hair. "Sarah..." He sighed. "There is no easy way to say this..."
"Then just say it, for heaven's sake!"
In a small voice, she heard him pronounce, "You must leave..."
Her thoughts were interrupted by sudden shouts and giggles that came bouncing down from upstairs. She could only smile. Wiping her face, she discovered tears there. Shaking herself, she made her way over to the bottom of the staircase and loudly announced: "Playtime is over! Go to bed!"
She jumped when the clock resounded throughout the house again. One o'clock. One hour was gone. She headed back into the kitchen to check on the water. It would be done soon. A mug of tea always helped to calm her nerves. And she needed all the help she could get tonight.
Both the girl and Jareth froze briefly at Sarah's shout. He had been acting out a tale of knights and dragons and just rescued the damsel in distress from the chair that had become the dungeon.
"I'm afraid we have been caught." He carried the child over and tucked her in. Kneeling down beside the bed, he slid the stuffed Firey in beside her. "Off to sleep with you."
She yawned. "But...I'm not tired."
Jareth chuckled. "Of course not. But you must do as your mother says."
The child nodded as her eyelids drooped. "Will you be here when I wake up?"
Tucking her hair back away from her face and kissing her forehead he whispered, "I hope so."
That seemed to satisfy her and she slid into sleep. He stood and walked to the door. Turning out the light, he heard the girl murmur, "I love you, Mr. Jareth."
Jareth leaned against the door frame for support, closing his eyes as he fought against the ache that threatened to overwhelm him. He was rarely here, he had no real influence in the child's life; she had no cause to love him, he was unworthy. This unconditional love that now graced his life, given freely and without care, was foreign to him, but he was grateful for it just the same. He looked back at the girl's form in the dark and whispered, "thank you." Pulling the door to the child's room nearly closed, he made his way downstairs.
Sarah leaned against the counter, watching the gas flame flicker from the stove. The icy blueness of it matched her heart when she had heard him speak those words, while the heat of the flame matched her temper that came roaring out shortly after.
"What do you mean, I have to leave? What are you talking about?"
"Sarah..." He turned away and returned to the window, sitting on the edge. He had no wish to see her reaction at his next words, certain her face would undo him. "Simply being a king brings enemies to one where there were none before. Deceitful creatures who would stop at nothing to bring a ruler to his knees. To protect what is theirs, the first rulers created what is known as the 'Ancient Law.' If the King should take a mate and they create a child, both mother and child must be protected. They must be kept in secure hiding, to ensure that none other can claim them in the hope of forcing the King to give up what is rightfully his."
Her face turned to one of disbelief and shock. "What are you saying?"
"I'm saying that you will be returned to your home, completely safe from harm. You cannot stay here."
Sarah froze as she let things sink in. Away. He was sending her away. And she pregnant with their first child. Fear seized her again. Alone. She would be alone. Tears gathered in her eyes. "Is there no way around this?"
He winced at the pain in her voice. He had no choice, it must be carried out. Only her safety mattered. He removed himself from the window and gathered her tight against him. "There is only one way. Once the child is sufficiently old enough to look after itself, to protect itself from harm...only then can you return."
She jerked her head up, the color draining from her face. "But...that could be years! Maybe never!" She declared softly, "I'll never see you again..." Pushing away, she backed towards the door, shaking her head in denial, allowing the first tears to fall freely down her face. "NO!" She ran from the room.
Jareth let her go. She would hate him for what he had to do, but would come to accept it in time. He sat into the chair and dropped his head into his hands.
First frightened and then incensed, she raged for weeks after she found out the truth. She snorted. The one thing she had ever asked him to do was not to lie to her. And he did it anyway.
"Why didn't you tell me? Why did you lie when all I asked for was the truth?"
"Sarah. I did not lie to you. I only omitted certain facts that I felt you would never need."
She blinked at him, astonished. "Never need? What on earth made you think this was something I didn't need?"
Jareth was quiet. "I never imagined that we would have a child," he whispered.
She had stared at him in disbelief, wincing at the hurt she felt. The sting of those words hit her like a slap in the face. "You can't mean that. Do you mean to tell me that the thought never crossed your mind?"
He looked at her. His defenses were down, there would be nothing standing in the way of her ripping him into shreds. "I finally have you, Sarah. I did not dare to hope for anything more."
The whistle of the tea kettle brought her back to the present. Turning off the flame, she pushed the button on the handle to lift the flap from the spout, cutting off the noise, watching as the steam curled its way out. She frowned. Lost in the past, she had allowed the water to become too hot. Now the kettle would have to sit until it cooled. Moving it to a back burner, she opened the cupboard and took down the cookie jar. She grabbed a few and returned to roost against the counter. Biting absently into one, she waited.
It was dark, the only illumination being the low-watt lamp in the kitchen. Leaning against the wall, he watched her-the woman who had given life to the diamond sleeping upstairs. She had her back to him, removing the kettle from the stove. Her hair swayed as she moved between the stove and the cabinet, pulling down cups and saucers and tea and other things. Every other move found her huffing in irritation as she shoved the strap of her tank back up onto her shoulder.
His thoughts turned to when their exile began, how furious she had been at being sent away. She had taken it upon herself to call the Rulers to a meeting, orchestrating the event under his guise. He recalled, with a smirk, the looks on their faces as they realized what she had done. His chest swelled with pride as he listened to her argue against the Law. In the end they allowed him to visit her, never allowed before. Before, the mate and child were left alone, lest the enemy discover their location. Before, the only contact was extreme cases of danger. Before, there had not been Sarah.
He pushed away from the wall and came up behind her. Sliding his hands up her forearms, he hooked his thumbs around the straps. "Allow me," he offered, pulling them down off her shoulders, bending his head towards one.
"Jareth, that isn't hel...ping..." Her last words were strangled as she groaned softly. He was nibbling her skin, making his way over to her neck. Her knees failing, she clumsily reached out and sat the mug in her hand just beyond the edge of the counter.
Turning around to face him, she melted into his arms. His lips sought hers and he kissed her greedily. When they finally parted, she sighed: "You're home..." Reaching up, she traced his face with her fingers. He closed his eyes. After a moment he snapped them open, staring at her with dark intensity. She laced her hands around his neck as he lifted her and carried her down the hallway to the back bedroom.
Sarah listened to the ominous tone of the bells as the clock announced the hour of three. They lay quietly, his head on her chest, her hands running through his hair, his fingers gliding across her stomach. They were content for the moment. She spoke first.
"So what were you two doing up there, anyway?"
Jareth chuckled. "Re-enacting Kiecklar's rescue of the fair maiden from the dragon Myianche's dark castle dungeons."
Sarah giggled. "One guess as to who insisted on being the princess."
"Actually...she was the dragon."
"Oh."
They passed a few more moments in silence. Jareth sighed. "She has greatly changed."
The longing and sadness she heard in his voice caused the ever-present knot in Sarah's stomach to grow bigger. It was never supposed to be like this. They were supposed to be together forever, not playing catch-up on the rare moments he was allowed to see them. She ignored the familiar flare of injustice and held her tongue.
"Much too fast." She smiled fondly. "It seems only yesterday she was learning to walk." She raised her head up a little. "Remember?"
He glanced at her and a look passed between them. "How could I forget?"
Summer was nearing its end, giving them a few more weeks of semi-warm weather before the cold of fall arrived. Sarah sat on the east end of the enclosed side porch, draped across the wicker couch stuffed with pillows. She was reading one of her favorite books.
The baby was positioned on the other end of the porch, surrounded by guards and soft toys and pillow blocks meant to entertain her. With the safeguards that had been placed upon the house, she was in no danger. Still, Sarah placed her where she could keep one eye on the child and one eye in her book. They remained this way for half an hour, with only the flipping of the pages and the occasional happy gurgles and barks of the baby breaking the silence.
Suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, Sarah saw an unfamiliar movement and heard an unfamiliar noise. Lowering her book, she glanced at the child and froze. The baby was standing, holding onto a pillow block with one hand, a guard wall with the other. This was not unusual, she had done it before. But this time... The child was staring intently at a spot on the floor just beyond her, as if she intended to let go and walk to that spot. Sarah inhaled sharply.
Walk.
The book fluttered to the floor, forgotten. Sarah was on the edge of the couch, not breathing, as if one incorrect move from her end would spoil it all. She watched as the baby took one step forward to position herself...
And then let go...
Sarah's eyes widened. Softly, she hissed: "Jareth! Come, quick!"
...-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-...
The Goblin King stood amongst a crowd of surveyors and architects. They were discussing plans to expand the Goblin City. Goblins were multiplying faster than the current housing could sustain them.
"Now, Sire, if we expand this way..." one of the surveyors held up a map and pointed to a location. "We will be able to-"
Jareth stilled, all his senses alert. Without warning, he disappeared. The group paused briefly to acknowledge his absence. They might wonder, but would never question the King's behavior. The speaker turned to another surveyor. "To continue..."
Jareth reappeared next to Sarah, crouching down to her level, fearful at the look on her face. "Sarah? What has happened?"
Sarah could only shake her head and wave with her arm.
Jareth turned in the direction she pointed to and his eyes widened as hers had done. He saw the child standing unassisted and watched as she took one...two...three small, uneven steps in their direction before pausing and wobbling precariously. Jareth crossed the porch in an instant. The baby leaned forward and took two more rapid steps before falling into his outstretched arms.
Quite pleased with herself, the child shrieked and giggled at her new feat. Sarah clapped her hands and squealed along with her. She stood with a shout. "She did it!"
Jareth rose slowly, holding the child out from him, staring in wonder. The emotions that assailed him left him breathless. They were new ones for him, he did not quite know what to do, how to process it all...
He looked at Sarah and saw much of the same reflected in her eyes. "Thank you," he whispered, not knowing what else to say. His gaze returned to the child and he pulled her close. The baby laid her head on his shoulder and made a grab for his hair, holding it tightly.
Sarah watched as Jareth lowered to the floor, sitting cross-legged to face the yard. He rocked and hummed a low tune as he held his daughter. Her heart soared and broke at the same time. He had so few moments like these. It pained her to know he had lived lifetimes and never before experienced this.
She knelt beside him. They remained there for the last hours of the day, until the sun had set and they could no longer see.
...-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-...
Laying the baby gently into her crib, Jareth softly caressed her cheek. The child yawned and blew out a quick puff of air before settling in for sleep. He looked at Sarah standing on the other side. They stared at one another, exchanging in a glance what they could not bring themselves to say out loud.
Jareth reached out and took her hand. He pulled her around, into his arms and claimed her lips with delicate passion. He guided her to bed and stayed until dawn arrived.
Sarah's exhilaration at this new event in her child's life had quickly faded the next day. That was when her world nearly unraveled. That was when she almost lost him.
That afternoon, there was a knock on her front door. It was rare that this entrance was used. Hidden from the street by a small garden, the gate was invisible to those who did not know where it was. Visitors came to the side door, easily accessed from the driveway.
Instantly on guard, she had opened the front door slowly to find two males and one female standing at her main entrance. Without an invitation, they swept themselves into the room. Waves of distrust radiated from them, causing her hair to stand on end.
When she demanded to know who they were, they produced the symbol of the Goblin King to convince her of their validity. Knowing Jareth would not play games, she stood in outward compliance as they read their rights and declarations. Inwardly, she seethed, offended by their accusations. For while the Rulers of kingdoms made the law, enforcement of the law had been given to a handful of High Lords from each of those kingdoms. And according to them, she had broken the law.
The female was to be assigned to the keeping of her daughter while the two males brought her before the court for trial. It was with the greatest unease that she left her child in the woman's care. Sarah was grateful the baby was too young to ever remember this. Reluctantly, Sarah left with the two males to the Goblin City.
The trial was held in the town's main courtyard. The entire kingdom had turned out to see how well the mortal would handle the inquisition. As Jareth explained to her later, it took all of his power and many favors to make this a public trial. It was the only way to keep the Lords honest and show the people how worthy she was of her status by his side.
She and Jareth were not allowed to speak to one another. The restriction, however, was not necessary. Their glances conveyed their messages clearly enough. And everyone took notice. When allowed to speak directly to the High Lords, they stated their case as a unit, one continuing the topic when the other faltered or ended.
The High Lords had expressed outrage that the two would willing defy what had been set forth in ages past. They had highly disapproved of the Rulers' decision to grant visits in the first place. It was unorthodox and dangerous. If an enemy of the throne used these visits to discover their location... Visits had been strictly forbidden for that very reason when the Law had been created. The fact that she had called upon the King for something so trivial, an act that was clearly not an emergency, should automatically end that generous privilege immediately.
When a roar of denial swept through the crowd, causing chaos, the High Lords appealed to the Rulers to dismiss them and turn this into a private trial. Their objection was denied, causing a cheer of approval.
In the end, to the High Lords most extreme displeasure, the Rulers of kingdoms allowed the visitation rights to remain part of the Law. However, since a punishment was required, no matter how moving the incident, visits would be denied for one year, to be reinstated if no such further incidents occurred. They agreed with the High Lords on the danger, but did not feel the transgression warranted a removal of visits permanently. The High Lords tried to appeal. It amounted to a simple slap on the wrist, they stated, and deserved a punishment more fitting. Again, the Rulers denied their objection.
After the trial, Sarah and Jareth were allowed a brief, private moment to speak. Sarah was in hysterics and it took all of Jareth's willpower not to break at her obvious struggle. They held one another as he whispered words of love and encouragement. He reminded her it was only a year, not long at all, and they would be together soon enough. When the two males returned to escort her back to her own world, he watched in anguish as she shut down. What bothered him the most was that there was nothing he could do to help her. And he had turned his back upon the Rulers when they attempted to reassure him that it was all for the best.
As they lay there, reliving those two days of towering highs and deepest lows... While Sarah tried and failed miserably to not recall her year of hell without him, a roaring wave of fear, anxiety, and panic swept through her, hitting her hard. Her whole body tightened and she inhaled suddenly-a loud, shuddering breath. She clutched at Jareth, terrified and shaking.
He took her in his arms to hold her tightly. "It's over, love...let it go. The past is the past. It cannot hurt us anymore."
She shook her head against his chest. "But don't you see?" she whispered, "It can. I could still call you for something they deem trivial and you would be gone. Our daughter would lose her father. And it would be my fault."
Jareth sat up with authority and pulled her with him. He held her in such a way that her only choice was to stare directly into his eyes. They were dark and determined and she shivered at the power that flashed within them. "Hear this now:" he rumbled, causing her heart to flurry as it quickly changed rhythm to beat in sync with his voice's cadence. "You will never lose me. Even if it means I relinquish everything else, I will always be with you."
He kissed her then, crushing his lips to hers, sealing the vow, demanding acceptance and obedience in exchange for a lifetime of dreams come true. She willingly agreed, returning his kiss with needs of her own. The promise made, the kiss dissolved into feathery touches on the tip of her nose, her eyelids, her cheeks. He settled into her neck and there he remained for some time, exploring.
Eyes closed, she relaxed against him, exhaling in small sighs and the occasional moan when he hit a particularly sensitive spot. If she had the power to stop time, this is where she would do it. She frowned on reflex as her thoughts began to wander. Damn. Always it came back to time. There was no escape. Laughing at her, the clock boldly struck down the hours. She counted four now.
Jareth sensed her change in mood and pulled back to look, to really look at her. Her hair was shorter now, sweeping her shoulders. He noticed a few strands of gray around her temples, a symbol of her passing time. Her eyes were still as green as in her younger days. He traced the lines that marred her face with their unpleasantness-another reminder to him that she was not immortal, and that he would outlive his beloved. "I do not remember these."
She watched him as he watched her. Despite the master he was at keeping his face a perfect mask, she was never fooled. His eyes always betrayed him. And in their depths his thoughts and feelings were so clearly visible to her. She smiled for him. "I feel I have aged twenty years in the past five." She took his hand and placed it over her heart. "This will not."
It was his turn to frown. "And what about her? How much longer will she age before...?" He paused, let her go, and turned away.
The knot in the pit of her stomach, which seemed to be unraveling, suddenly tightened again. She knew that reaction by heart. "Jareth, we've been over this. I don't want her knowing... Not when there's a chance-"
He cut her off. "Small she may be, but she deserves to make that choice on her own. Yes?"
"Jareth, she's five years old! We can barely keep it together as it is and you want me to bring more pain into that child's life? It's bad enough she has to have her heart ripped out every time 'Mr. Jareth' isn't here. Do you have any idea of the storm that will happen if she knew her father was the one that weaved so sparingly in and out of her life?"
His voice was strained. "She will have to know sometime. One day she will ask of me. What will you do then?"
Sarah sighed, not wanting to think about the backlash of that question. She knew, however, that she would do what needed to be done. "I dread that day and the raging terror she'll turn into when she discovers what we've been hiding."
Jareth turned back and took her hands in his. One glance at his face and Sarah knew his anger at this deception simmered just below the surface of that seemingly calm exterior, waiting to be unleashed at the right moment. "Are you so sure she'll take it so hard? Perhaps she'll understand. She's stronger than you think."
"Jareth," she asked softly, "do you really want to take that chance?"
He held her, saying nothing. He attempted often to persuade her to tell the child the truth. He knew that when the girl learned their secret, it would not be Sarah who would take the brunt of the betrayal. The child would hate him and all his efforts would be rendered useless. He could force Sarah to tell her, but Sarah would hate him as well. The thought was unbearable.
He sat in the chair next to the child's bed, watching her sleep. The early hour before dawn had arrived and gave just enough illumination to see. Not that he needed it. He could always see, light or no.
Jareth surveyed the girl's room, taking in the endless shelves of books, the stuffed animals, and the closet full of clothes. Sarah denied her nothing. Many of these things were well-loved toys that Sarah had handed down to her daughter. That included the Firey that the child clutched tightly to her. It had lost an eye and the hair was gone, but he could see that it was dearly cherished just the same.
Reaching out, he adjusted the covers and brushed the girl's hair from her face, careful not to wake her. It pained him deeply to know he would not be here when she awoke, that he would never be here for her when she needed him most. And it would be many years before Sarah and their child would be back where they belonged-with him. He felt guilty, missing the last few visits. Time he desperately wanted to share with them. Time he would never get back.
"I am sorry," he whispered, leaning over to brush his lips against his daughter's cheek. One more glance, one more tuck, and then he stood. Pausing at the door, he looked back and announced softly, "I will come back for you, my child." Even though you do not know me.
Exiting quietly, he made his way downstairs, back to the room where his beloved lay sleeping. He stood at the end of the bed, watching her. She lay on her left side, her left arm stretched out across the bed, the right bent across her stomach. In sleep she looked peaceful, at ease, the torment she carried no longer visible. He frowned. She should not be here. She should be waking each morning with him by her side, not to a cold, empty bed-alone.
He moved to her side and sat down on the edge. Shaking her gently, he called to her. "Sarah. It's time."
Alert and awake at his touch, she rolled over and sat up, refusing to look at him.
He pulled her close. "Do not wear that long face for me. I will return." Saying nothing, she extracted herself from his embrace and took off upstairs to her bedroom. Her bedroom, not theirs. He followed her.
Diving into the closet, she flipped through the hangers, attempting to find something to wear for later that day. "I wonder if today will bring more snow. Have to make sure to find something warm..." She stood surveying the closet. "I promised to take her sledding..."
Jareth steeled himself. She would never accept this fate. Always, she worked herself into frenzy. "Sarah. Stop."
She shook her head. "I don't know, though, if it's such a good idea to go out today." Crossing to the dresser, she asked him, "What do you think?"
He caught her in mid-step and shook her a bit. "Must you always do this? When will you accept?"
She jerked away from him, pain and unshed tears in her eyes. "Never! Why do you? How can you?" She turned to face the window, looking out over the front yard, staring at the houses across the street. Leaning her head against the cold glass, she whispered, "It may be nothing to you, but a mortal's short time is precious. We are only shadows and dust, in the end."
When she turned to face him, her tears were gone, replaced by hardened regret. She laughed bitterly. "I was a fool to have requested these visits. Not seeing you is much easier than having you come and go for such limited moments."
Jareth sighed. "Tell me, then, Sarah, what you wish me to do. I cannot abolish the Law. I cannot change it..."
She crossed her arms and snorted at him. "I changed it."
He ignored her and continued. "It was created for a reason. I will not have you in constant danger, forever fearing for your life. One can never know when an enemy will appear."
"Is there even an enemy anymore? Have you been attacked lately? How do you know?"
"There is always someone left to fight, Sarah. Simply because they cannot be seen does not mean they do not exist."
"So you'll let them control our lives. Enemies we may or may not have?"
"To keep you both from harm? Yes!"
They stared at one another, breathing fast, tempers flaring. Jareth held up his hand. "I will not have this conversation. Continuing to relive the past will not help matters." He softened his tone. "Please, Sarah. Stop resisting. Let it go. Allow us to part on good terms. If only once."
She had opened her mouth to retort, but closed it. He was right. She could not recall a single time they were both civil when he left. It seemed she worked on extremes: either completely pissed off or drowning in sorrow. God, I am so sick of emotion... Uncrossing her arms, she let them hang like dead weights at her sides and nodded.
They met halfway and embraced one another. Tilting her head up, he kissed her as if his life depended on it. Sarah memorized this moment as she had so many others. Parting, they rested their foreheads against one another. She began, "I wish that-"
He stopped her. "No. You would be exiled forever, never able to return. You know this."
She embraced him again, pushing her head up under his chin, taking in the scent of him, giving herself one last moment. Barely keeping her composure, she spoke. "Go. Make it quick. Please."
His arms slid from her and he backed away, keeping his eyes focused on her face. When he reached the door she whispered, "I love you."
"And I, you." Smiling softly, he slid around the corner.
She panicked and rushed out after him. "Jareth, wait..."
The hallway was empty. He was gone. The house was silent.
How long she sat on the bed, staring into space, she could not say. Harsh reality returned when her daughter crawled into her lap. She held the child close and kissed her. "Good morning, baby. Sleep well?"
The girl snuggled against her mother, her head under Sarah's chin. "Is Mr. Jareth here?"
Sarah shook her head. "No, sweetie, Mr. Jareth had to go. He is sorry that he couldn't stay to see you when you got up."
The child nodded. After a moment, she asked, "Did he say goodbye?"
Sarah's heart twisted. "Yes, baby. He said goodbye."
"I miss him."
Fighting for composure, Sarah barely eked out, "So do I, sweetie. So do I." She hugged her daughter tighter.
"He'll come back, won't he?"
Sarah said a silent prayer. "Yes, he'll come back." Please, come home soon. Rocking the girl, she laid her cheek on top of the child's head. They sat quietly for a few minutes.
"Momma?"
"Yes?"
"Do I have a daddy?"
Sarah froze. Oh, god...not now. I'm not ready! "Why..." she croaked out, then swallowed and began again. "Why do you ask, baby?"
The girl shrugged. "I see other kids with their daddy's and I wanted to know if I had one." She looked up. "Do I?"
Looking down into those big, green, innocent eyes, Sarah so desperately wanted to tell her everything. She had the right to know. But how much? And this soon?
She must have stared too long. The child looked away sadly and climbed down. "It's okay, momma. I guess I don't." The girl walked toward the door.
Sarah was paralyzed. The most she could do was work her mouth silently and try to kick start her brain. Say something, damn you! She finally managed to whisper, "Baby...wait..." She stood, shaking.
The child stopped, keeping her eyes focused on the floor and asked timidly, "Could I ask Mr. Jareth to be my daddy?" She looked up at her mother though the curtain of hair hanging across her face.
Every cell in Sarah's body was screaming at her to tell the truth, to tell her everything whether the girl understood or not. Her body started to function again and she ran to her daughter, falling on her knees and embracing her tightly. "Yes, baby," she whispered, kissing that cherubic face repeatedly. "Yes, ask him. He would love that."
The child smiled and hugged her mother. The sadness was replaced by hope. "Can I go watch TV now?"
Sarah smiled back. "Yes. Go watch TV."
The girl pulled away and padded downstairs, dragging the Firey behind her.
Sarah remained on her knees, fighting a losing battle with the anguish that raced through her. She tried to stop the flood of tears by pressing on her eyes with the heels of her hands. She failed. They refused to be contained any longer, quickly turning into sobs that shook her entire body. She let them go. Five years of torment poured forth. If it would have helped, she would have screamed over the injustice. She cried for her daughter, living a lie in an uncertain world. She cried for Jareth, who had two loves nearly beyond his reach, who was missing out on so much. She cried for herself, because she was neither strong enough nor brave enough to keep them all together.
Gradually the flow of tears released their hold upon her. In her lightheaded state she both felt and heard the low, solemn, lonely tones of the clock announcing the time from downstairs. Time. A reminder that life continued on whether she moved with it or not. It was six o'clock in the morning. The day had begun without her. Wiping the tears away, she stood unsteadily and took a deep breath. She would not let the child see her in this condition. She had to be strong.
Heading into the bath, she turned on the faucets. Waiting for the tub to fill, she stared at herself in the mirror, her mind blank. She watched as the steam from the hot water filled the room, watched as it fogged up the glass, watched as her image disappeared. When she could see it no more, she turned off the water and stripping, stepped into the tub. The hot water helped to soothe her aching body, loosen her tight and frazzled nerves. She considered drowning her sorrows in bottle after bottle of alcohol, as she once did in her youth. But she could not do that anymore. She lived for others now, not only for herself.
She went through her routine on autopilot-wash, dry, comb, brush, dress-glad that today was Saturday and there was not a need to go anywhere. It would be two more days before she would have to pretend that everything was okay, that their world was perfect. Two more days before work and school would, for however brief a time, allow her to forget the truth.
Taking her time, she wandered down the staircase, gazing at the pictures along the wall. This was not the first time she had noticed only two faces smiling back at her-not three.
Pausing at the bottom, she peeked into the living room. The child was lying on a pillow on the floor watching cartoons, the Firey sitting lopsided on one side of her, a bowl of dry cereal on the other. Satisfied with the girl's preoccupation, she headed out to the side porch.
She stopped herself at the top of the steps leading out to the yard, breathing in deep the cold morning air. She let it fill her lungs; let the chill seep through her body. Glancing over the yard she noticed that her footprints were gone, the snow was pristine again.
Turning around, she noticed the gloves. His gloves. He had taken them off last night to rub her feet after she had been stupid enough to wander around barefoot in the snow. They were lying on the side table next to the chaise. Crossing over, she picked one up. Bringing it to her face, she closed her eyes and inhaled the scent: a mixture of soft leather and Him.
Jareth.
How she longed for him-his lips tasting hers, being enveloped securely within his arms, that gentle smile, the one he reserved for their most tender moments, his whispers of love, those oh, so rare whispers that she cherished most of all. The ache returned, to settle even deeper into her body.
Picking up the other glove, she kissed them gently. This was the hard part. Not knowing when he would return, if he would return. She blinked back the tears. Nothing was certain anymore. She might never see him again. "Jareth," she whispered. "No matter how long..." Sitting down in the chaise, she wrapped herself in the blanket, pressed the gloves next to her heart, and waited.
Note:
My wonderful readers! Glad to see you back! I do hope that you've enjoyed this trip into an alternate plane of existence. This "one-shot" grabbed hold of me and wouldn't let go. I blame you, AmethystLainey.
Hugs and inspiration to my beta on this one: orientalbunny. Her insights and rock throwing helped create what you see before you.
Lots of easy, stress-free days and a plethora of baby nephew pics to LupoPazzesco: my second beta, giver of good tunes, great chat buddy. I do so enjoy our conversations and your desserts.
And finally, a special nod to silent influences:
* Jade9 for her subtle, yet powerful romance. I hope I've lived up to the example you've created.
* Nico Morrison: the desperate complexity of your Jareth astounds me. He exudes so much with so very little.
I pray the story gods favor you all.