Being nearly immortal, the old Timelord had suffered countless losses in his over nine hundred years. Yet now the one person in the universe he never thought he'd have to mourn was gone. Fae live long lives, sometimes even longer than a Timelord's, still King Jareth was gone, his time was up.
The Doctor had been shocked by the news, but even more shocked to discover that Jareth had left final instructions for him in his will. Those instructions had lead him to where he was now, the castle beyond the Goblin City in the early morning one the day when all of the Underground mourned the loss of the Goblin King.
The Doctor did not shed tears, for some pain doesn't manifest itself that way. The Doctor had faced death so many times, he was almost used to it, almost.
Though he wasn't sure how he would tell her. Jareth had specifically instructed that he would bring Sarah there one last time, but Jareth always knew of the Doctor's time travelling and made it clear that he wanted Sarah to be there as she was not long after she had solved the Labyrinth. Really, Sarah was many years older when Jareth died, but Jareth had just assumed that she would've forgotten about him by then, credited her adventures in the Labyrinth to nothing more than her own imagination. When the Doctor actually got around to taking her in the TARDIS, she wasn't as surprised as most to see the large control room packed into the tiny blue box. Perhaps after those thirteen hours in a land with no clear rules, she felt right at home in a box that seemed to defy reality itself. All the Doctor had to do was mention Jareth's name and she had willingly followed him into the TARDIS. He intentionally didn't mention why she needed to return to the Underground, only that Jareth had sent for her. Still, he wasn't sure how to break the news. Oh well, he'd just pretend he had a plan and go along with whatever followed, like always.
Sarah, although it had been nearly two years since she had been in the Labyrinth, was still very much a child at heart and was overjoyed to return to her Underground friends. She had no hesitation before she welcomed (or nearly forced) Hoggle into a warm hug, but was bewildered at everyone's somber expressions.
"What's wrong?" she asked. When no one gave her an answer, she knelt down to Hoggle and asked. "Oh no, what's Jareth done to you?"
Hoggle just shook his head in silence.
"Sarah," the Doctor pulled her aside and they were left alone for privacy, "Jareth hasn't done anything wrong. He's wonderful."
"Then what's wrong?"
He took her hands and spoke in a gentle voice. "Jareth, the most noble and fantastic of all the kings in the Underground, has given everything he has to his kingdom, and now he can be a part of the stars above us." He stopped for a moment and let her process.
After a moment, she said, "Wait, you don't mean- He's not- He's-" and then she broke down and grasped her arms around the Doctor and there was a steady stream seeping into the Doctor's shirt. The Doctor brushed her hair and held onto her for as long as she needed.
When she finally let go, she could hardly speak. "How? Why? What happ-" and then a new wave of tears came.
"Like I said, he gave everything to his kingdom and followers. He wanted you to be here." However, his words seemed to give no consolation to Sarah.
"I don't understand. How? No!"
"It's alright, you don't have to understand. Nobody ever does. What matters is that you don't let him disappear. Nobody ever truly leaves, not when they are remembered. Jareth was a great man who brought magic and love and life to so many people. Do you think someone that special could ever be truly lost? No. I know it hurts now, and it will always hurt a little, but that just means he was meaningful to you.
And you know, contrary to popular belief, being dead does have its perks. You don't have to feel tired. You don't have to feel pain. You don't have that annoying itch in your shoes that you can't quite reach; I find that most pleasing. But you know what the best part of being dead is? You become a story. See, we're all stories in the end, and stories never have to end. You can keep retelling them and retelling them. You can even skip over the boring parts if you want. And if you look very closely, you can even find more infinite stories within the stories themselves. You could take your own whole lifetime just telling the stories of another. That's the great part.
And you know, his story is the best. What's even better is that you're a part of it. You and all of his followers are a part of his story. You made his life that much richer. Sure there were some sad parts, but that doesn't take away the good. No, nothing ever can. So, laugh, cry, sing, dance, hug, and smile along with the story. Celebrate it. Like my old friend Dr. Seuss said, "Don't cry because it's over. Smile because it happened." Old Teddy was such a good friend, and between you and me, I think he called himself "Doctor" to be like me. Shh.
Jareth loved you and all his followers so much. That's why he gave everything to us. That's something to smile about, huh? And you know, from someone who's seen so much time and so much space, you can be proud to say that in all the billions of years the universe has had, all of time and space, you at one point lived in the same world at the same time as Jareth the Goblin King. Remember that, and if something can be remembered, it can come back.
So, never forget him. Never stop loving him. Never stop telling his stories and he will be with us forever."
Sarah didn't quite know what to say to that, so instead, they just got on with the day, with the procession, with the service. Sarah cried a lot and she would for a very long time, but she would be okay, not perfect, but okay.
They enjoyed the sunrise and the sunset, and the stars that day. Sarah didn't like leaving after it was all over, but she knew her friends would be there if she needed them.
The TARDIS appeared in her bedroom when the Doctor brought her home and the door opened right up to face her mirror. Another tear dripped down her face and she made a sighing sound.
"I remember when I got back from the Labyrinth and my friends came to me in the mirror. After I told them I needed them, they all came and we danced in my room all night long." She smiled.
"Humany-wumany." The Doctor smiled, and turned to go to his TARDIS. When he was back in his familiar control room, he felt a little warm tear sliding down his face.
That night, Sarah, the Doctor, and all of Jareth's followers found themselves gazing at the crystal moon. And if one looked closely, one could see a beautiful barn owl soaring across the sky watching over them.
Author's Note: I admit that I haven't been a fan of David Bowie for very long, but he means a lot to me as I'm sure he does to many people. I wish I had discovered his magic sooner.
This story was just me getting my thoughts out into words. I used the Doctor because it just seemed like those are the kind of things he'd say.
I had been writing other Labyrinth and Ziggy Stardust fanfiction a couple of months ago. It will be a while before I continue writing them and even longer before I finish them, but I promise I will never stop writing. I will keep writing for him.
My sympathy goes out to his friends and family. I hope they'll be alright.
I listened to the Blackstar album last night and as it was about to end, I couldn't bear the thought that this was his very last song ever, but I don't know every David Bowie song, so there is still more to discover for me, and then we can always listen to them again.
I've been reading some other tribute fanfiction and it's all so thoughtful. I hope he knew how much he is loved. I hope he knew how grateful we all are for his work, whether you like Ziggy, or Major Tom, or the Thin White Duke, or Jareth, or all of them.
So, thank you Mr. Bowie. Thank you for the magic, and the music, and the stars, and the stories, and everything. All I can do to express my gratitude is write.
That's all we can do in times like this:write. That's enough for us. It's good to know that there are others out there going through the same thing right now.
So, happy reading and writing, everyone. I'd also like to note that, although this story is related to David Bowie, I'd also like to apply it to Alan Rickman and Glenn Frey (and really anyone we may lose) as well.
Thank you my readers, and let the magic never die! :)