Aaahhhh... so many uncertainties. I think my nails are chewed down to nubs now. Plus I'm sick as a dog.

For future reference - An Fómhar - Autumn

Lúnasa - August

Chapter 10

It was fully night as they rode into the city, torches illuminating the streets on both sides. There were still many folk, goblin and human, about their business. The three had ridden in silence the whole way back, each lost in thought. About halfway through the city, a shout suddenly rang out.

"Jaweth! Jaweth!" A child with tousled dark hair was running towards them, arms outstretched, grinning. He headed straight for Jareth's horse, showing no fear of sharp hooves or of reprimand. As the child's face came into the light Sarah saw his unusual features – high, rounded forehead, slanted eyes, and small upturned nose. Jareth had stopped his horse and slid down, kneeling in front of the boy. The child's arms went around Jareth's neck and he stood, holding the youngster in his arms. The boy whispered something in the King's ear, and Jareth turned to look at Sarah. He nodded and began to walk towards her. Sarah realized as they came closer that the child was affected by a condition she was familiar with – Down's syndrome, it had been called in her world.

"Sarah, this is Tomas. He would like to meet you." Sarah swallowed down a lump in her throat and smiled shakily at the little boy.

"I would like to meet you too."

"You're pwetty." He was beaming at her openly, his smile innocent. Sarah could see an adult figure approaching from a nearby house, holding back somewhat. Suddenly Tomas reached out his hands to her, clearly wanting to be held. Sarah put out her arms and Jareth placed the child into them. His warm little hands touched all over her face, as though he wanted to feel what she looked like as well as see. Sarah glanced over his shoulder at Jareth, suddenly finding it hard to keep tears from her eyes. Jareth's expression was unreadable. It was not something she had particularly thought about, that special children like this one would also be wished away by parents who felt they could not cope with caring for them. Suddenly her respect for Jareth deepened. This child had run to him without any fear and with open joy, and Jareth had gotten down on his knees and talked to him as though he was truly important.

Gwyneth had dismounted and gone towards the person hesitating in the shadows. Speaking quietly to her, she led the woman forward. She was a human, and looked warm and friendly, although concerned. Sarah guessed this was the child's adopted mother. Tomas grinned at her once more and planted a damp kiss on one cheek, before submitting to being taken back by his mother. The woman curtseyed deeply to the King while holding the child in her arms, and Jareth murmured something to her that Sarah could not hear, smiling just a little.

"Bye!" Tomas waved enthusiastically, and Sarah could not help but wave back. She did not trust herself to say anything at this point. The woman carried the child back into their dwelling. Jareth and Gwyneth both remounted their horses and the three continued on their way towards the castle.

Hostlers ran forward to take the reins while the exhausted riders finally dismounted onto the cobblestones. Jareth excused himself with a swift bow and strode quickly towards the castle. Sarah and Gwyneth were left facing each other in silence. Finally the lady spoke.

"I suppose I should call you by your true name now, should I not, Sarah?" Sarah flushed at her words and could not meet the lady's eyes. Gwyneth waved a hand tiredly.

"Oh, never mind child. I understand why you did what you did. You were merely trying to protect yourself. Come, it is growing late, and we are both tired." She turned and began to walk towards the castle. Sarah followed after a moment, feeling as though her legs were made of lead. Through the main doors and winding hallways they walked in silence together, until they reached the familiar door leading to the workshop and Gwyneth's bedroom. Sarah felt as though a lifetime had passed since she had last walked through that door, although in fact less than twenty-six hours had gone by. They entered the working space and Gwyneth indicated that Sarah should take a seat. She did so with a grimace, feeling an ache in every bone in her body. Gwyneth went over to a shelf lined with small jars and after scanning it for a moment, took down several. She came back to where Sarah was sitting and looked her over with a practiced eye.

"Where are you bruised?"

Sarah rolled up her right sleeve and pointed to her elbow. She then kicked off her right slipper and held up her foot. The toe she had banged against the archway last night was purple, as was a large portion of the foot below it. Then she lifted her skirts to reveal her battered shins. Gwyneth's eyebrows went up higher and higher with each one, and Sarah wondered if she was trying not to laugh. It seemed that Sarah had a tendency to bruise rather dramatically.

"And here, from earlier." She touched the back of her head where a swollen knot had developed, wincing as she did so. Gwyneth nodded and opened the jars she had taken down, using a spoon to take a portion of the ointment from each one. She mixed them together in a small glass bowl, and then seated herself beside Sarah.

"I am using arnica, comfrey and some hypericum. Do you remember which plants those were?" Sarah nodded but did not speak. Taking a small dab of paste, Gwyneth began to work it gently into the skin on and around Sarah's elbow. The lady's touch was gentle but firm and Sarah felt none of the coldness that she had earlier. Instead warmth spread from her fingertips as she massaged the area, relieving the ache somewhat. After a few moments Gwyneth spoke in a quiet voice.

"Do I have to use a spell again to get you to talk to me?" Sarah opened her mouth to speak and snapped it shut again. It took her a minute to try once more.

"What... should I talk about?"

"Anything you wish to, child."

Sarah sat and thought for a moment. Much of her earlier anger and frustration had been drained by the events and revelations of the day, and all the things she had been planning to say to Jareth now seemed somewhat unimportant for the moment. She quite simply did not know how she was supposed to be feeling at the moment. So she began with that.

"I thought that I would feel... different, if I had magic."

Gwyneth had finished applying ointment to Sarah's arm and moved to sit in front of her, indicating that Sarah was to lift her feet into Gwyneth's lap. She raised one eyebrow at Sarah and smiled a little but did not say anything.

"I thought it might be something like in stories, where you would know straight away, and it would somehow make you special. I guess I used to think fairies granted wishes, too." She laughed once, unconvincingly.

"Fairies? Granting wishes?" Gwyneth sounded amused. "What sort of tales were you told as a child?"

That drew a wan smile from Sarah. "A few months working in a garden in the Underground changed my mind." She winced and inhaled sharply as Gwyneth's fingers found a particularly tender spot on top of her foot. As soon as Gwyneth heard her indrawn breath she eased up on the pressure, but continued to rub in the salve.

"Magic is usually something you are born with. So for most folk, human or otherwise, you do not know what life is like without it. It is like asking someone born with both arms what it feels like to have none."

Sarah thought she understood what was being said, and felt her awkwardness fading in the face of curiosity. "So even if I ask you what it feels like, you can't really tell me."

"Exactly. However, you may certainly be taught how to have control over it, and how to use it correctly." Gwyneth stood now and walked behind Sarah. "You hit your head also, did you not?" Sarah nodded and lifted a hand to the lump at the back of her head. Gwyneth parted her hair with careful fingers and began to work the last of the ointment into her scalp. Nothing more was said while she worked, and Sarah found herself having to stifle a yawn.

Gwyneth finished applying the ointment and laid a hand on the back of the girl's head. As she had been working, she had sent a very tiny thread of magic into Sarah, designed to relax her. Slowly Sarah's head drooped more and more, and her breathing became deeper and more regular. After a few more minutes she was slumped forward in the chair. With a sigh, Gwyneth picked her up in strong arms and carried her out of the workshop and through the glass doors. She walked through the garden in the moonlight and when she reached the girl's cabin, opened the door with a flicking motion of her fingers. Placing Sarah on her bed, she covered her with a blanket and stood for a moment, looking down at her.

I wonder if you really know what lies ahead of you, child.

She walked out and closed the door behind her.

The throne room was quiet and empty. On the far wall, a single torch was burning in a wrought iron sconce. Jareth stood in the doorway for a moment, his hands resting on the stone archway as though gaining strength from its solidity. In the half light he could see the general rubbish that had been cast around the room – empty ale kegs, clothes scattered everywhere, half eaten plates of food, feathers. He sighed. Usually he abhorred the mess left behind by his subjects, but tonight he found it an oddly comforting sight. At least it was one thing in his kingdom that had not changed. The goblins were remarkably consistent in the amount and type of mess they tended to create. Jareth slowly walked across the room towards his throne. He had considered going to his rooms to rest, but despite his fatigue, his head was whirling with too many thoughts to allow him to sleep.

He lowered himself slowly into his throne, feeling slightly achy all over. As he settled himself back into the seat, his back encountered a lump which suddenly came to life, squirming and shrieking. He reached behind to pull out a small goblin which had been asleep on the seat of the throne. It shook its tiny fist at him, oversized teeth bared, and screeched unintelligibly. Jareth rolled his eyes and flung the goblin towards the nearest window, where it sprouted leathery wings in midair and flapped away, cackling with laughter. He quickly checked the rest of his throne to make certain there were no more unwelcome visitors and settled back down again with a sigh. An Fómhar was nearly upon them, the beginning of Lúnasa only a few days away. Soon the harvest would begin and late barley crops would be brought in, vegetables gathered and orchards cleared of their fruit. There was always much to be done at the turn of the season to prepare for the cold ahead.

Jareth wished he could allow himself to dwell on the earthy, comforting thoughts of food stores and farms, but he knew there were more important things that required his attention. Such as how he was going to tell Sarah that her younger brother was currently in the Underground, and likely on his way back to this very castle. Not to mention how he would explain to Toby that he did, after all, have Sarah in his possession. Sarah, who was now tapped into a source of power greater than anything she had ever known. She was now no longer out of sight or out of mind. Not that she and her devastating eyes had ever totally left his thoughts. Had it only been that morning he had walked into the cell and seen her there? He felt as though years had passed in the interim. The sight of her had shocked him to the bone. The events of her last visit began to play back across his inner mind once more. He should not have to deal with this again! Had not she done enough damage? Was he to be tested even more? Suddenly he felt much older than his 500-some years.

Leaning his head back against the throne, he closed his eyes and forced himself to breathe slowly. He would simply have to deal with the situation as it came. For now, it would be best to tread lightly around Sarah. He would do his best to maintain the peace, and deal with the storm when it came. Gradually the torch on the wall guttered and went out, and light from the growing moon softly filtered its way in, painting the room and its occupant in pale silver.

Sarah woke slowly, sun streaming in through the window and splashing onto her face. She grumbled slightly to herself, throwing one hand over her eyes to block the light. The covers felt hot on her, and she shifted, throwing them off with one leg. Her legs were tangled in skirts, which made the action difficult, and caused her to suddenly open her eyes. Why had she been asleep in her dress? Slowly the events of the day before began to creep back into her memory. Her capture and Jareth's return, their journey through the Labyrinth, and the discovery of her magic. She did not remember how she had come to be back in her own bed, but she suspected Gwyneth had something to do with it, as the last thing she remembered was sitting in the workshop. Swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, she looked down at her shins. The bruising had gone down a fair way, although they were still an unhealthy shade of green and yellow. Streaks of dirt covered both her arms and legs, and she guessed her face must look much the same.

Standing, she walked over to the pump, feeling the ache in her legs from the long ride yesterday. Cold water splashed out into a bucket, and Sarah pulled the dress over her head. She dropped it on the ground, wishing she had a spare – it too showed the aftereffects of the past day, and was dirty and torn in several places. Shedding her undergarments and shivering a little, she sat on a stool and washed herself quickly with a cloth and a bar of soap, paying special attention to her face.

It occurred to her that she had not truly looked into a mirror for a couple of years. With no makeup to apply, and no time or inclination to sit looking at herself, she simply had not thought about it. The occasional reflection caught in a windowpane or the still water in a bucket showed few details. She wondered what she looked like now, and how different she was from the girl who had first run the Labyrinth nearly seven years ago. Sarah ran one hand through her hair, combing out the tangles with her fingers, and was somewhat pleased to note that it was returning to its old length. It needed a trim badly, but this was again one of the things that had not exactly been a priority. How did one go about getting a haircut in the Underground, anyway? She decided to leave it hanging down for a change, instead of tying it behind her.

Sarah finished washing herself and attacked her dress with the wet cloth, trying to work out the worst of the stains. It was still a little damp when she pulled it back over her head, but at least she felt less like a street child and a little more, well, human. She opened her door and poured the remaining water onto the red geranium that was growing just outside. The sun had already risen over the high stone walls, and the breeze felt cool for a change. Sarah was normally up at dawn, and felt as though she had slept in. She sat down on the low wooden stool just outside her door and closed her eyes, enjoying the feel of sunshine on her face. Her mind strayed again to all that had taken place. She remembered the beauty of the world she had glimpsed in the glade, the colours and light. Was that what it meant to have magic? To have access to that kind of thing, to have your outlook of the world changed? Sarah opened her eyes and looked down at the palms of her hands resting on her lap. They looked to her as they always had - ordinary. Chapped and rough, broken nails that seemed to always hold a layer of dirt, hands that now knew hard work.

She was interrupted in her thoughts by a dull ache in her middle. Her stomach felt hollow, and it occurred to her that she had not eaten a full meal in nearly two days. She sometimes kept a loaf of bread or some other kind of food in her small cupboard, but she knew it was empty at the moment. Unsure quite what to do, she stood and walked slowly through the garden, wondering whether she could get a meal from the kitchen as she had been able to before. Jareth had said he did not want her imprisoned again, but that did not mean she might not still be under some sort of house arrest.

The doors to the workshop stood wide open, and Sarah could already see Gwyneth seated on her high stool, bent over something. She turned as the girl entered the room, and Sarah could see that she had been reading from a thick open book laid out in front of her. She did not smile when she saw Sarah, but neither did she frown.

"Good morning. I imagine you are hungry?" Gwyneth spoke without any preamble, seeming to know exactly how Sarah was feeling. Sarah nodded, still feeling awkward conversing with the lady.

"Good morning. I didn't think I would sleep in so late."

Gwyneth did smile just slightly at Sarah's comment. Standing, she indicated for Sarah to expose her legs. Obediently, she lifted her hem to show her foot and shins, and then held out her arms for inspection. Gwyneth checked her over carefully and seemed satisfied with her progress.

"Sit, child. I will put some more salve on for you." Sarah sat, and the process of the night before was repeated, minus conversation. As she finished and wiped her hands on a cloth that hung from her belt, Gwyneth finally spoke.

"My cousin wished me to tell you that he is waiting for you in his outer chamber, with breakfast. I believe there are matters he wishes to discuss." Sarah's eyes widened in surprise at this comment. Breakfast? That was the last thing she had expected Jareth to offer her, let alone in his own private chambers. When Sarah did not reply, Gwyneth added "Do you remember the way?" Sarah flushed red at this, and shook her head.

"I was lost, and it was dark..." her voice trailed off.

"I will take you then." She looked Sarah over critically. "I suppose a dress that is not full of holes would be more appropriate for a royal audience." Sarah thought she saw another ghost of a smile pass over the lady's face. "We will go via the storehouse. Come."

They walked together down the halls, passing servants both human and goblin about their business. Sarah could feel the curious stares following her as she walked along with the tall woman, and she wondered exactly what was being said about her amongst them. Surely they had all heard by now what she had done, and what had happened as a result. They probably thought she was being taken away to be punished right now. Sarah wished she could sink through the floor rather than face the speculative glances and whispers of those she passed. Thankfully the storehouse was not very far away, and was only attended by a single goblin man. Short and stumpy, his huge nose dominated most of his face, and he squinted at her through tiny brown eyes. When he noticed the lady with her, he bowed low, surprisingly elegant for someone already so close to the ground.

"What can I do for ye, my Lady?"

"This girl needs new attire." The little man peered up at Sarah again, as though he were measuring her with his eyes. He nodded once and disappeared into a maze of shelves, appearing moments later with a dress nearly identical to the one she was wearing, in the same colours of midnight blue and claret. He was carrying with him a new pair of leather shoes as well, having observed that hers were a little worse for wear from gardening. The man waved her over to a curtained area with the bundle, and she changed quickly. The dress fit her better than her last one, and she guessed that was probably because she was healthier now than she had been. Or perhaps this man was a better judge of size than the head housekeeper had been. Slipping on her new shoes, and emerged, and was met with an approving nod from Gwyneth.

"My thanks to you, Tuch." Tuch bowed low once more, and they took their leave. They walked for a while longer, and the closer they came to their destination, the more Sarah hung back. She did not want to face Jareth right now, and frankly she was afraid of what might happen. She had expected... well, she had imagined a lot of scenarios, and none of them had come close to the reality so far. And it was very likely that the situation she was walking into would be the same. All too soon they reached an arched doorway, guarded on either side by tall, black-clad warriors. They stood motionless as Sarah and the lady approached, and at her nod, one of them opened the door and swung it open. Gwyneth stood aside to let Sarah enter. Sarah froze, horrified at the thought of going in there alone.

"You... you're not coming in too?" Her voice was squeaky in her own ears, and she winced. The possibility had not occurred to her. Gwyneth shook her head.

"I was not invited." Her voice held some amusement. "Now go. It does not do to keep the King waiting."

Sarah laced her hands tightly in front of her, took a deep, shaky breath, and walked in.

I dunno where the hell the "breakfast with Jareth" idea came from. Needless to say it's giving me a headache!

Be gentle... but let me know what ya all think.