A/N: Read, review, and enjoy!
For the first time in days, it was not raining in the Labyrinth. The strange orange sun was shining with a fierceness Jareth had not seen in years, and the goblins were outside, basking in its strange glow.
Of course, they were all outside because Jareth had launched every single last one of them out the window with a few well placed kicks. He was now staring at the lone chicken in the corner of the room. He supposed he could kick it as well, but the chickens of the Labyrinth were known to rebel.
'Damn.' He was moping. He knew he was moping. He could feel the rejection coming. It hung over his head like the storm clouds that had been there hours before.
Jareth did not even have the willpower to visit with the Labyrinth. Usually, one or two of the souls that took refuge in the bars of his cage might have some insight, some tidbit to cheer him up or to brighten the situation.
And, as if summoned, one of the souls of the Labyrinth suddenly stood before him.
'My son, why are you so upset?' The figure of Jareth's mother appeared before him. He refused to meet her eyes. He could not bear to look at the face of the woman who abandoned him so many years ago.
'I gave her back her memories. And you, or whoever the Labyrinth was acting through at the time, made her give me back mine.'
'We kept the memories you gave us safe for just such an occasion. We knew she would be back, and we knew that you could not keep her memories for long. One of her heritage will never be fooled permanently.'
Jareth stilled.
'One of her heritage? What do you mean?'
'You will see, child.'
'And people wonder why I have a warped sense of humor. The only companions I have are the dead, who speak in riddles, and the goblins, who drink constantly.'
The woman before him looked at him sharply, fire in her eyes. 'We have given you the opportunity to sate your loneliness. We brought Sarah's feelings to the forefront of her mind, even when you had tried to sear them away. We created the need for you to bring her here, in the castle that you call a prison. We have helped you show her the reason for your actions, the loneliness behind your facade. Be grateful, insolent child. We have given you everything you ever asked of us.'
The voice of his mother changed, hardened into something he had never heard before. This was no delicate soul, wronged by her people but forgiving even still. This was a woman who was tired of a child's whining, his declarations that 'it just wasn't fair!'
Jareth finally met her eyes. They were a somber gray, with a brow furrowed with determination.
'Everything we've done, we've done for you and your happiness,' she said forcefully.
Jareth did not answer, but instead stood up, his power roiling out around him like storm clouds. The strange actions of Sarah after her fall suddenly made sense- The Labyrinth had used her disorientation as an excuse, and directed her like a puppet.
The vision of his mother widened her eyes, and flickered like a bad movie.
'Back to the center of the Labyrinth for you, I think,' he said, his voice a deadly whisper.
'Jareth-'
'No.'
With a simple flex of his power, he forced her back to her resting place. His mother was gone. The pressure over his heart lightened.
In the corner, the lone chicken was now joined by a goblin. It grinned a wide, toothy smile at its king, and kicked the chicken.
Jareth had to laugh as the chicken angrily turned and pecked at its attacker.
Footsteps echoed his laughter, and he stopped.
His father stood before him, dressed simply and slightly travel-worn.
'Well, Jareth, is that how you greet your High King?' Ethur said, pretending imperiousness for a moment.
Jareth chuckled, and conjured up a chair for his father to join him.
'You really need a TV. Banba just had one installed in the Royal Bedroom and we've been watching something called 'The Hills'. It's quite interesting.' Ethur said pleasantly.
'What brings you to the Labyrinth?' Jareth asked after a moment.
Ethur took a deep breath before speaking. 'My son, you know that no man can be king of the Tuatha de Danan if he is not whole in all ways.'
'If you're here to tell me the story of great-father Nuada, don't think I haven't heard it before.' Jareth warned.
'No, my son, I'd actually come to see if you had let your mind become whole again.'
Silence filled the throne room, broken intermittently by the squawk of an angry chicken.
'I took back the memories from the Labyrinth today,' Jareth finally replied.
'With the help of the girl, Sarah?' his father asked. He was answered by a curt nod.
'And I see the dreamstorm is gone. So, two birds with one stone.'
'Yes.'
'I sense that is not all that occurred today.'
'In returning her memories to her, and my memories to myself, my feelings for her came out into the open.'
'...And?'
'….And, nothing. She had said nothing, only that she wishes to think.'
'I see.'
'And I had to silence the Labyrinth. I think, perhaps, it had been trying to control Sarah to ensure my happiness.'
'True happiness is a difficult thing to acquire. You should seize it--but only when it is freely given.'
Jareth turned to look at his father. 'There was one thing that has been bothering me. Cailleach Beara, the Morrigan, and the Labyrinth have all told me the same thing.'
Ethur looked thoughtful. 'What is that?'
'They have all said that Sarah is more than she seemed, and alluded to her heritage. The Labyrinth even posed a question to me about the Storm Hag, and her many children. The Labyrinth called her 'Sovereignty', from the times when she declared the new kings of Ireland.'
'What do you think it means?'
'I may have to take Sarah to visit Cailleach Beara.' Jareth sighed. His father nodded his agreement.
Soon enough the conversation turned to pleasantries, as father and son caught up on time lost.
Sarah had stayed in the shower until she was shriveled and pink, and then gotten out to find deep green towels on the counter waiting for her. She looked at them for a moment, wondering who had placed them there, and then decided it was better not to ask and began to dry.
Interestingly, her clothes were cleaned and dry as well. Again, she chose not to dwell.
Clothing was an armor, Sarah reflected as she examined herself in the mirror. Her clothing reflected who she was, what she wanted in life, and what she intended on doing to get it.
She wondered what jeans and a purple shirt really meant about her, though. All that had really gone through her head when she picked it out was, 'hmm, purple is supposed to bring out my eyes. Sounds good to me!' and tossed it on in a hurry.
Oh well.
Sarah made her way out of her room and into a wide gray hallway. There were no other doors for her to try, so she simply followed it until she came to a fork, and then took a left. Something about the left fork seemed more inviting than the right. The same occurred at the next turning- the right turn just felt....right. Like it was the way to go.
It was a familiar feeling, this sense of direction. She now remembered that she'd experienced the same force in the Labyrinth, the first time she'd been here. She allowed it to direct her to where she wanted to go- to Jareth.
She heard his voice before she saw him. There was someone with him. The voice sounded familiar, but she could not place it until Jareth called him 'Father.'
'The roses in the hedge maze are blue, this year. For the life of me I can't imagine why. They've been white for years, Father.'
'Do you remember the last time we came to visit? Oh, it must have been ages ago. And the Morrigan got bit by a rose the size of her head!'
Both men laughed.
Sarah stepped around the corner and into the throne room. Both men appeared relaxed, and a few brave goblins had come to listen as they talked. A lone, glossy black chicken pecked for bugs on the floor in front of the dais.
Two sets of eyes trained on her: one, bi-colored, the other, a shocking blue green.
'And this must be the lovely Sarah!'
Jareth's father, Ethur, had the same vibrancy in the present that he had in the memories Sarah had witnessed. He rose from his chair and bowed gracefully, capturing Sarah's hand for a kiss as he went.
'I've heard so little about you, my dear. Jareth never said what a beauty you are!'
Sarah blushed furiously, and Jareth scoffed from his throne.
'I may never have spoken of her to you, but she does know some of your reputation, my Lord Father!'
'That's just my jealous son. The women never did throw themselves at him like they do me!'
A surprised laugh escaped Sarah's lips before she could stop herself, which made both men laugh with her.
'Alas, my dear, while I wish I had time to speak with you in great length, but being Unseelie King means someone is probably trying to steal my throne as we speak.' Ethur said after enjoying the moment. 'Rest assured, Sarah, I'm certain we'll have the opportunity to get to know each other later.' And then, without taking his eyes off of Sarah, said, ' Jareth, stop glaring. I'm leaving, I'm leaving! Don't banish me!'
Ethur disappeared with the same trademark poof and glitter that Sarah had come to associate with the Goblin King.
'I apologize, precious. He's become a bit of a rake in his old age,' Jareth said wryly.
'Ah,' Sarah said.
There was a long, awkward silence as the two stood across from each other, staring.
Finally, Sarah spoke. 'I want to go home.'
She watched emotions chase across his face for a moment, before it shut down into a courtly mask.
'As you wish,' he said, and moved to pull a crystal from the air.
'Wait!' Sarah said, and rapidly closed the distance between them. Jareth froze, his eyes a little too wide, as she gripped his outstretched hand.
'Don't take this as rejection. I know that's what you're thinking. I think.... I think I have feelings for you. But I'm not certain! And I need some time.'
For the briefest second, hope flashed in those mismatched eyes. 'Sarah...'
'I'll call for you...when I've had enough time,' she said, squeezing his hand. He nodded, closing his eyes briefly.
Time froze as they examined each others faces, and then an all-too-familiar blackness settled around Sarah.
