"Jareth! Come quickly!" the fervent shouts of the scholar could be heard through the castle corridors. "Quickly! Sarah's awake!"

Jareth froze, in the middle of dressing, and burst through the doors of his bath into his chambers looking awfully befuddled; his shirt hanging open with one tail tucked awkwardly into his breeches. He rushed to her side, almost stumbling on the way, looking almost delirious as he looked at the girl sitting up in his bed. He reined in his excitement, examining her harshly. Her skin was pale, her limbs seemed hang limply from her body, her shoulders slumped, and her gaze empty. He sighed, letting his shoulders slump as his hopes were dashed and crushed. Her eyes were dull and held no shine, and her normally emerald green orbs distorted, looking muddy and grey in comparison to their normal vibrancy. He continued to watch her carefully, paying close attention to her lifeless gaze.

"Do you know who you are?" He asked brokenly. Life flickered into her eyes momentarily, before drifting back down to the very depths of her empty fractured soul.

"Of course," She replied, her voice holding little inflection, hinting at the fire her former self possessed. He nodded slowly, trying to take gauge of the damage.

"You don't seem to know me," It was a statement, which she did not react to. "Who am I?"

"You're the Goblin King," She said flatly. "Do you not know who you are?" Jareth ignored her question, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Just the Goblin King? Nothing else?" She shook her head no. "Do you remember anything that has happened in the last day, or anything at all? She seemed to disappear in thought momentarily, almost struggling internally.

"N-no," She whispered, looking distressed and disturbed. "I don't remember anything." Her voice wavered slightly, so far the most emotion she had been able to display. He closed his eyes, shushing himself momentarily and took a deep breath.

"I promise, you'll remember soon enough," He said, his speech muffled through his fingers. She watched with mild curiosity as he stood abruptly and turned to the brown haired man in the room with them, his demeanor changing from defeat to all-powerful king in a moments notice.

"Bring me my armor. The descent into hell will not be easy." He directed the command to Grenth, who in turn nodded briefly and hurried from the room, presumably to the armory where the Goblin King kept his armor displayed. Jareth turned back to her side as Grenth scurried away, the bed coming up to his waist. He leaned over her slightly, brushing back a strand of her mahogany hair.

"Your very spirit and soul has been shattered and stolen from you." He addressed her almost formally. "I'm going to the land of the dead to retrieve what has been stolen so unjustly. You should remember once you are whole again." His steely expression turned soft. "But should you still not remember me, then we'll have to make new memories, and I will have to try and win your heart once more." He swallowed the lump forming in his throat as he spoke. His speech was more for himself than it was for her. He forced himself to smile, but the corners of his lips refused to budge, and turned up just ever so slightly. He began to turn away, to leave her and start his journey, but he swiftly turned back to her, swooping down like a vulture to capture her lips once more, his heart wrenching when she remained unresponsive. "Just in case I do not return," He explained and strode from the room, his heart exposed for everyone to see.

Sarah only watched his retreating form through her lifeless gaze, her lips parted ever so slightly. Her heart had skipped a beat and fluttered to her throat for the smallest split second, before sinking back into the unfamiliar nothingness that had taken over her being.

"Jareth," the name was uttered longingly, but so briefly and lightly that not even she had realized it had escaped her lips and conscience.

Grenth aided Jareth with is armor, strapping the foreboding faceplate to his chest while the king himself worked on his gauntlets and unfolded his tattered cape.

"I really should commission a new one," He mused, running his fingers over the layers of shimmering blue-black velvet and leather. Grenth only smirked, taking the cloth from him and hooking it to the shoulders of his armor, securing the heightened collar to it's proper place.

"Why the armor? You're not really expecting a battle are you?" The scholar asked, his brows arching slightly with worry. He knew of the king and his antics. He wouldn't settle without a fight if what he wanted did not come to him easily. Jareth scoffed.

"None of the sort," He leaned over, putting on his armored shin guards, the black metal and hardened leather glimmering. "I merely wish to look imposing." He waved his hand flippantly, grabbing his sword from the mantle. "Not to mention I'll need protection from that beast of a dog Cerberus." Grenth shot him a worried look. "But don't worry friend. I'll give that hound a good whopping." He grinned lopsidedly.

"Surely you're joking Jareth," Grenth managed to say weekly.

"Not at all," He replied, barking out a laugh. "I must be off. My damsel doth wait for me," He said with mock chivalry, bowing theatrically. Grenth sighed, letting his shoulders slump. He recognized this; it was his defense mechanism. When things were at their worse Jareth always seemed to make a joke out of everything, especially when they needed to be taken seriously.

"Jareth, this isn't a joke," He warned the king, his voice hitching as the panic began to rise. He had to get the king grounded once more before he left, otherwise he would surely be killed. The king held up his hands defensively, his forced grin wearing thing.

"I know, I know. It's not a game, or a joke. This is life or death—and not just hers. I know I could die," His expression turned grave, his mismatched eyes closing in thought momentarily. "I know this very well—and I will come back one way or another, whether it's a bloodied corpse, dropped on the steps of the city by Persephone herself, or if I return triumphantly, prize in hand." He paused thoughtfully. "No, there won't be any in-between. I won't settle for less," The confirmation was more for himself and his psyche, mentally preparing himself for the rough journey to come.

The journey it's self wouldn't be long. Finding the entrance of Styx was easy enough—he knew where it's location lay. However, climbing down into the hells bellow to cross the river and face the infamous Cerberus, even before he could even get close to the bewitching malicious queen, well, that was going to be tough. He turned on his heel, placing a hand firmly on his friend and confidents shoulder, giving him a small acknowledging nod, and then walked out towards the balcony of the armory, climbing up onto the stone railing overlooking his kingdom.

"For Sarah," He whispered, pushing himself into the air, transforming mid fall into his owl shape, and flew off into the distance to his destination.

Short chapter! Sorry guys!

As school comes to a close over the next month it might take me longer to update, so bare with me. After april I'll have ample time.

There are maybe 3 chapters left in this.

Jareth going through styx

Confronting Persephone

Returning to Sarah

the last 2 might even be one, depending on how quickly I write them and the flow.

I hope you guys are enjoying this as much as I am, with it's strange macabre twist to the story. :)

Also, Toby Hates Broccoli will be updating soon, and I am also working on a new story loosely based on the Poem 'The Highway Man'-- first chapter of that is almost finished.

Read and Review! Much love for all the support!