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He was on edge.
It was quiet. The kingdom was never quiet, that was how goblins were-loud. It took him several centuries to learn to live with the noise. In his immortal life, he never encountered a moment when the goblins were willingly silent.
'Except…' Jareth winced at the one time he was mildly aware of the goblins being quiet. Such a memory made him worried, for it was the day his father had passed. He glanced around the throne room and sure enough the goblins looked sad. He felt the Labyrinth weep, the magical soul within the walls let out mournful howls in the wind.
'Who died?" Jareth wracked his brain for a person residing in the Labyrinth that would cause his subjects to mourn upon death. He came up with nothing then his mind went through anyone outside the Labyrinth that would cause such a reaction.
One of the younger goblins tried to keep its sobs silent, he looked at the creature and in a very fatherly manner picked it up and set it on his lap. The goblin's huge brown eyes looked up when he spoke, "What is the matter little one?
Said brown eyes filled with rivers of tears, "Lady," it hiccuped before wailing, "Lady dead!"
Fear gripped him, "Which lady?"
A damp piece of parchment, which the small goblin was holding to its chest fell onto his lap. All of the goblins sobbed, "Kingy's lady."
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Time stopped for him when his mismatched eyes saw the words on the parchment, "I was foolish to refuse. The chance has passed me by to never come again. Forgive me, but I do not wish to live without him."
Almost instantly he summoned a crystal, transporting himself despite the rules to where the author of the message was. Nothing in his immortal life could have ever prepared him for the sight that awaited him.
"Sarah," He breathed before rushing to the river bank. Sarah, his beautiful Sarah, lay motionless at the bank of a pool beneath a waterfall. Her hair was braided in a crown that was falling apart from the water. She was clad in a gown from the Underground, the elegant white was stained brown from the mud. Her skin was tinged blue from death's icy grip.
His heart twisted painfully and he drew her to his chest. His tears fell freely when he felt her body stiff with death. He felt the presence of several goblins around him. He looked to the three that visited Sarah the most, "How?" he managed to choke out.
"We tried Kingy, swears we did, but lady didn't listen and leapt anyway." The shorter babbled through tears.
He looked back at her, 'Why, precious. Why didn't you at least call for me?' He pressed his face to her dripping locks and for the first time since he was a child, he sobbed. He clung to the dead woman in his arms as if the grip alone would bring her back to him, either that or through his tears.
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When he thought no more tears could leave his person, he stood. Ignoring the panicked sounds from his subjects as he returned to the castle with Sarah's body cradled in his arms. The spell brought him straight to his quarters, where he magically redressed her in the clothes she was meant to wear- clothes that were meant for royalty and royalty alone. His magic fixed her hair to the same manner she fixed it in before death. At the sight of the peach blossoms against her brown locks, his knees buckled and the tears started anew. In his grief stricken mind he vaguely remembered his own power to change time. He looked up in hope as his magic tried.
New tears came to his eyes as anger and grief clouded him, "Why? Why didn't you give me a second chance?" He sobbed and fell against his bed, burying his face in his love's side.
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He repeated the question over and over throughout the day and well into the night. Then on occasion the same question would echo the halls when he drank away his sorrows in his quarters. The servants and goblins would look to one another in the musing question of whom the king was asking: the Labyrinth or Lady Sarah's soul.
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He moaned in protest when a strong arm pulled him up and onto a chair. Through fussy vision he saw the castle's healer. When his eyes went to the spot where he passed out, he saw a streak of red on the stone.
"You need to be more careful, sire." The healer commented while checking his king for wounds. With a frown he added, "It would be wise to take a break from the ale, sire."
He merely sat still, his mismatched eyes looked toward his bed. The healer saw the longing look and sighed.
"I know it isn't my place, your majesty- but isn't it time to lay our lady to rest?" The healer said carefully for fear of upsetting his king.
"She'll stay where she's at." He huffed before standing and heading toward his stash of wine.
The healer looked between the dead body of the beloved Lady of the Labyrinth and to his king. The elderly man stepped up to the bedside, "It would grieve her to see you in such a state, sire." Ancient eyes of wisdom looked at the fae, "She would want you to live."
His glass crashed down hard on the table with his hand, "Leave."
The healer sighed and nodded, before leaving he looked back at the grieving fae. "She deserves to be at peace. How can she be when the one she loved the most cannot get past her death?" At that the door closed and thus, left the fae to his demons.
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He fell to his knees, for the millionth time in the past month he tried to reorder time. And for the millionth time, the Labyrinth rejected his magic with a low mournful whistle in the wind. It felt as if the souls of magic itself were reminding him cruelly of the one thing magic couldn't change. More tears fell from his eyes, the pain tore at him.
And so, he drank and wept.
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Jareth woke a week later with a groan, feeling his bedding beneath his back rather than against his chest with the stone floor against his legs. He took one glance next to him and he sat up, "Where is she?"
The strongest of the goblins blinked at him while the castle healer and his adviser, Wynn, sighed.
Wynn gave a glance to the goblins and the healer before the room was cleared of all but he and his king.
"Where is Sarah?" He asked firmly.
Wynn shifted but met the glare, "She was laid to rest earlier this morning."
"I didn't authorize it, She was fine where she was." He argued while rising to his feet.
"Jareth, I speak as your friend." Wynn stated before resting a brotherly hand on his king's shoulder, "You cannot heal if she is with you. This kingdom couldn't heal. She was loved by all and your subjects need a place to mourn her- the Labyrinth made a place where everyone can grief and respect her."
He pushed his friend's hand off his person, "Where is she?"
Wynn sighed, "Lady Sarah's tomb is in the hedge maze."
Without a second passing, he transported himself to the location of his love's tomb.
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The tomb was more than merely an indent in the Labyrinth's walls, no- The soul of the Labyrinth carved out a garden behind the hedge maze. The garden was made as a spot to sit and think whereas the tomb itself, which was carved from white marble walls, was made to be an eternal place of beauty. The tomb was a bright and large domed room. Sarah's coffin, which was made of gold and ivory, sat in the center upon a raised platform. Several carved benches rested against the wall and a blooming peach tree grew mere feet from the coffin. The light from the center of the dome filtered through the peach leaves and blossoms.
The kingdom's subjects were lingering in silent mourning in the tomb when he arrived. For a moment he looked on in silence from the doorway. He saw so many of his subjects in the large tomb and many more in the garden sitting in silence. There was a line, as per tradition, that was short- a sign that the tradition of going up to the coffin to say a word or two before placing a flower, was almost over with. Inwardly he smiled at the affection the goblins had for Sarah. One placed a few flowers mingled with feathers before hugging the coffin best it could. Another didn't have a flower, but a cloth doll to lay on the steps.
Sarah's closest friends were last and once their gifts laid on the steps with the flowers, they turned.
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"Sir Hoggle," Didymus tried to stop his friend before the dwarf reached Jareth.
"If yous weren't playing games she wouldn't have done this!" Hoggle jabbed a fearless finger at his king while speaking, "Yous broke her heart before yous realize you had it."
Everyone in the tomb and garden froze. All expected an outburst from Jareth, rather tears misted in the fae's eyes before walking to the only free spot on the steps. Silently he sat down on the marble step and gazed at the coffin. With magic he summoned a single red rose to place on her coffin.
Through the sob in his throat he whispered, "I'm sorry."
None ever tried to make him leave to tomb.
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Through the darkness of night he gazed at the coffin. He felt weak. His mouth felt like cotton and his eyes ached. He didn't dare summon ale to Sarah's tomb, but he wanted so badly to be numb.
'I don't want to feel.' He felt the tears pool in his eyes. He curled up into a ball, 'If only the foolishness of mortals were right.' He wished through his tears, "If only kissing you would bring you back, precious."
In that moment, he truly was waiting for death to take him to Sarah. He let the darkness of his grief consume him as he fell into a dreamless sleep.
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She paced the length of the room while several watched her.
"Milady, I think that you know the results of your test." Sir Didymus said aloud what everyone thought, "Mayhap it be the time for you to ease the king's heart."
She sighed and stopped pacing, "I didn't think he would take it so hard…"
"I's told you," Hoggle stated with a thump to his thigh, "This was a bad idea."
She moaned and sat down, "I know, I'm sorry, this was only meant to last for two weeks."
Wynn stood and offered a hand to her, "Then let us escort you to his majesty so this can be righted."
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He moaned when he woke, silently cursing when he saw that it was still night by the light of the moon. Despite being awake, he didn't want to move. He felt oddly comfortable on the marble floor. With a soft sigh he attempted to fall asleep again, but his eyes shot open when he felt a gentle caress running and playing with his hair. Groggy eyes looked up at the owner of who's lap his head lay on and whose hand played with his hair.
The brunette smiled softly and lovingly, "Good morning."
He didn't allow his mind the time to think, he shot up to his knees and embraced the woman- burying his face in her shoulder, his hands gripped her emerald gown, and his lips pressed a kiss to warm flesh. He faintly felt her arms encase him when his tears started to soak her pale flesh. Over and over he murmured whispers of thanks to the goddess. He barely felt her rocking him back and forth while rubbing his back.
"I'm sorry, Jareth." Sarah managed to whisper and he pulled back far enough to look at her face.
His hand removed itself from her back and cupped her cheek, "What do you mean, precious?"
She held his hand to her cheek, "I shouldn't have tested your words." Her eyes misted with tears.
'She tested me…' He gapped as the realization sunk in, "How?"
"I learned a potion," She confessed, "It mimicked death and would only last for a time. I didn't know it would last two months."
He couldn't help but chuckle, "You spun your own fairytale." He leaned close to kiss her.
She smirked against his lips, "I heard every word you know. I was unable to move but I was very much aware."
"Then I believe a punishment is in order, precious." He teased.
She stared at him, "What-" she began but his gloved finger pressed itself against her lips. He smirked and stood, keeping her cradled in his arms. Before moving he placed another kiss on her lips, "You scared me and started a very tempting game that won't end."
She smiled, "Who said I wanted it to?"
He chuckled and with a brief flick of the wrist transported himself and his future queen to their castle.