Chapter 11 – Time Heals

Everything went so smoothly Sarah couldn't believe it. The ceremony installing Toby as the new Summer King. The other ceremony installing herself and Jareth as Toby's regents. The magical boundary-shifting so that the Summerlands abutted the Goblin King's realm in some way she still had no way of comprehending. The spells cast in the human realm to erase all knowledge of the Williams siblings from mortal minds.

That part was the hardest to take, knowing that Karen and Dad wouldn't even remember that they had two children taken out of their lives in a surgical strike worthy of any military campaign. Sarah had fought against that the hardest, fought and lost, just as it seemed she'd lost every battle since returning to the Underground.

Well, almost every one. When she and Jareth were officially named as Toby's regents, she nearly broke down in tears of relief; only a glance from Jareth kept her face as schooled as any mortal could manage while facing the entire Primary Fae Court.

Even her killing Garendel hadn't caused so much as a ripple of trouble for her. He'd provoked, she'd retaliated, and apparently that was considered justice down here. She shuddered thinking about it, whenever she allowed thoughts of what she'd done to surface and trouble the smoothness of her mind, a smoothness she worked hard to maintain. It felt like something that had happened a long time ago; when pressed, Jareth had admitted to doing something to make it seem that way. "To help you cope," he'd said, and she wasn't sure whether to thank him or slap him, so she did neither, focusing on Toby as she had all along.

Toby and her Goblin friends kept her sane. And Elena, when Jareth had located her and coaxed her back to his castle to stay with Sarah. "None shall harm you here," he'd promised, and so far that promise had held true.

Elena was Sarah's companion and Toby's nanny and governess all in one. Her presence had helped immensely in the days before the new Summer King's coronation, and was continuing to help now that it was a month behind them.

Sarah was now two months pregnant, still not showing, and still sleeping fitfully at best. The immediate sting of what had happened to her may have been blunted, but it hadn't disappeared entirely, and there were nights when her sleep was interrupted by nightmares that she refused to tell anyone about.

Jareth knew, of course, just as he seemed to know everything that happened in his kingdom. But she restricted her conversations with him to learning how to cope in the Underground now that it was to be her and Toby's permanent home, the intricacies of ruling two such disparate kingdoms at once, helping Toby understand his new role in life.

They'd had one argument after the coronation, a bitter one; another one that Sarah had lost. "Toby must be made to forget his past," Jareth told her the day after their return to his kingdom.

The words were bluntly stated, no sugar coating, and Sarah flared up exactly as he must have expected her to. "What? Why? What difference will it make? He's only three, he's already starting to forget!"

"Sarah," Jareth replied patiently, "you know as well as I do that such memories will only bring him pain and confusion. He still cries for his mother sometimes, and although that will fade with time, time is a luxury he does not have."

"What about me?" she'd asked bitterly. "You've already messed around in my head without permission, are you going to make me forget too? Got a magic peach for me to eat?"

He'd winced, actually winced at those words, as if he felt some sort of guilt, as if she'd managed to cause him pain. She refused to believe it of him, not now; she was too angry, with him, with the world she'd been forced into, with everything and everyone except Toby and Elena and her goblin friends. Even they occasionally felt the sharp edge of her tongue, all but Toby, if only because they had always known of the prophecy that held her fast in its thorny embrace.

He'd winced, but responded only with a negative shake of his head before vanishing abruptly in his usual shower of sparkles. He hadn't approached her for days afterward, and she'd turned to Elena for information and tutoring. If she was stuck here, she was determined to learn everything she could, not only for her sake and the sake of her unborn child, but for Toby as well. He would need every all he could find to deal with the cut-throat political world he'd been hurled into at such a tender age.

oOo

Sarah was in the beginning of her second trimester before she finally started feeling like herself again. The passing of the nausea helped, as did Elena's presence, but she still had a great deal of anger for Jareth. He'd spoken to her at length about politics, about Toby's future responsibilities, about how the complicated geography of the Fae realms was nothing like the geography of the world she was used to even though the politics was all too familiar, about anything and everything except the things she really wanted to know about: the prophecy, and why he'd gone ahead and erased Toby's memories of his human past without letting her know he'd done it.

She'd found out by accident one day, asking Toby some idle question about when they were back home. He'd simply stared at her, puzzled. "We home now, Sarah," had been his response, and Sarah had felt a cold trickle work its way down her spine, freezing her from head to toe in an instant. He'd done it; Jareth had gone ahead and done it behind her back.

"Do you remember mom and dad?" she'd asked, and Toby had shaken his head, shrugging as if it didn't matter to him, and of course it didn't. This was his world now, for better or worse, just as it was hers.

That had been at the end of her second month of pregnancy, and now she was well into her fifth and starting to feel like a beached whale as her mid-section expanded. The first time the baby kicked she'd been terrified, then awe-struck. Her baby had kicked. Her baby was real. Her baby would be born and she would be there to raise him, just as she was now helping to raise Toby.

It sent an unexpected thrill through her, to know that she was bringing new life into the world, any world. As her resentment toward Jareth finally started to fade from an active pain to a sort of numb bewilderment, her love for the life they'd created grew until finally, around her sixth month, she approached him for the first time without having to tamp down on her emotions, without having to remind herself not to shout at him or fight the urge to slap him. It was strange, but she welcomed it, especially since she knew it came from herself and not because of any spell he'd cast.

"I will never go into your mind again unless you ask it of me," he'd told her when she'd accused him of doing just that, to make her more accepting of him and being in the Underground for the rest of her life.

That had been almost a month ago; how had time managed to pass so quickly, when she expected it to drag? "Because you're too busy most of the time to notice it," she said aloud as she entered the throne room for the first time in months.

Jareth looked up at her entrance, raising a questioning eyebrow. He'd been lounging on the throne, staring out the window, but subtly braced himself as if for a confrontation. Sarah noticed it, as she always noticed everything about him, but only smiled to herself. Today she particularly noticed that he was very casually dressed, ungloved, no elaborate crown on his head, or vests or jackets over his simple white shirt and dark leather trousers, although as always he wore black boots that stopped mid-calf and showed off his well-shaped legs quite nicely.

"Jareth," she said as she made her awkward way to his side, trying not to blush as she realized she'd allowed herself to really notice his exotic good looks for the first time in months, "doesn't this place have gardens?"

He'd obviously not been expecting that question; he blinked once to show his confusion before smoothing out his features so rapidly she wouldn't have seen it if she hadn't been looking for it. "You know we do, Sarah," was his cautious reply. "You've taken Toby to play in them between lessons."

She shook her head. "Not the Summerland gardens," she said. "Here, in the Goblin Realm. Hoggle says he can't take me there without your permission." She'd refused to learn anything about Jareth's own realm during her tutoring, at least as far as the physical layout went. Now, in light of her own mellowing mood, she found herself curious to know more of what she'd previously disdained. "Show me?"

He rose from his throne, still radiating caution, as if expecting her to suddenly turn and bite him. She stifled a grin at that image, merely holding out her hand as if it were the most natural thing in the world. He took it carefully, and she reveled in the feeling of putting the Goblin King off balance the way he so often did to her.

"Yes, there are gardens, and fields, farms and villages, almost everything you'd find in the Summerlands or the human countryside," he told her as her fingers wrapped around his. "I can take you to see as much as you'd like." He glanced down at her stomach doubtfully. "Whatever you feel up to seeing," he amended.

Sarah patted her stomach complacently. "Oh, we feel up to just about anything today," she said airily, again hiding a smile at the disconcerted frown Jareth couldn't help showing at her unexpected attitude change. After all, the last words they'd exchanged had been cool at best.

The tour was wonderful, just stopping and looking and questions asked and answered before they were magically off to the next stop. Sarah made him take her everywhere, if only for a few minutes at a time, until she'd been shown every last village and hamlet and farm in his realm. When they returned to the castle she felt pleasantly exhausted and asked Jareth to take her directly to her rooms. He did so, and she eased herself into the nearest chair with a sigh of gratitude. When he made to leave, she stopped him, surprising herself as well as him this time. "Do you have to go?"

He regarded her steadily before shaking his head. "No, I can stay."

Sarah waved a hand at the chair next to hers. "Please. I'd like to talk, if you don't mind."

That put his guard back up, but he took the indicated seat, crossing his legs with the unconscious elegance of all his kind. She pouted at her own current lack of elegance at doing just about anything, then felt the baby kick and smiled. Without thinking, she reached over and placed Jareth's ungloved hand over her stomach, stopping just short of touching distance. "He's kicking, or she is," she said, suddenly shy, looking anywhere but at his face. "I thought you might want to feel."

"Thank you," he said simply, and she heard the sincerity in his voice as he placed reverent fingers over her abdomen.

He went so still he might have been one of the marble statues littering the Summerland countryside, his face unmoving but lit from within with the wonder of any parent feeling their child's first movements. Sarah had grown used to the restless presence within her, but today was the first time she'd allowed Jareth to do more than look at her since their return to his kingdom five long months ago. Greatly daring, she rested her hand on his and allowed herself to look directly into his eyes.

He looked back at her without expression, then suddenly smiled. "You've forgiven me?"

She bit her lip, considering. "Yeah, I guess I have," she said after a moment. "Not for everything, but I guess you didn't have a lot of choice in this, either. Did you?"

It was the first time in a long time that she'd broached the subject of the prophecy, even indirectly, and she wondered if he would answer the implied question as well as the one she'd actually asked.

"No, no choice at all," he said, his fingers still resting lightly on her abdomen even though the baby had subsided, apparently lulled into sleep by the feel of its parents' hands hovering above its current home. "Prophecy holds a great deal of power here, though it's seldom spoken of."

"Can you speak of it now?" Sarah asked. "You wouldn't tell me anything before, but I hope it was just because I was so mad I wouldn't have been really listening to what you could tell me. But I'm listening now. Please, tell me?"

He sighed, absurdly grateful for her willingness to finally share their child's presence with him, to do more than simply tolerate him as a means to an end. He'd begun to fear that such a change of heart was beyond her without magical meddling, which he'd foresworn although sorely tempted many a time to go back on his word. "It's difficult to explain," he finally said. "Difficult to put in terms that will make sense to you, I mean. The prophecy itself was very straightforward: The one who bests you at the Labyrinth will be the one to deliver you an heir," he quoted.

Sarah frowned. "That's it?" she demanded. "That's all? What's so difficult to explain about that?"

"It's not just the words themselves, it's how prophecy works here," he explained. "The messenger was unexpected, a changeling you'd call her. She functioned in my father's court the way Elena does for Toby, as nursemaid and instructor, but she was born in the human world, taken as an unwanted child in infancy and raised here. We call them enchanted ones, the ones that are elevated to join the Fae and not turned into goblins or simply left as humans."

Sarah shuddered at the memories his words invoked; Toby had nearly been turned into a goblin, and although she liked goblins just fine now that she was used to them and their eccentricities, it still wasn't a fate she'd wish on anyone, to become other than what they really were. Of course, there were transformations and transformations, but she pushed that thought aside, concentrating instead on Jareth's next words.

"For prophecy to work through one such as Kara is rare, almost unheard of," he continued, gazing just past Sarah's shoulder as if seeing that day once again. "She was an enchanted one, but only in the sense of her mortality being lifted from her so she had the possibility of living as long as one of us. She married a minor member of the Primary Fae Court and resides with him still in his lands, but has never been touched by prophecy since that day," he added as an aside, a fond smile lightening his features. "I still miss her sometimes." He blinked as if surprised to find himself admitting that, but Sarah glowed with happiness that he was willing to share so much after she'd given him nothing but grief—well-deserved grief, but grief nonetheless—for so long.

"When prophecy is spoken, we have to consider the medium as well as the message," Jareth went on, his eyes still far away, his hand warm beneath hers. "The words, the way they are spoken, who speaks them, all have meaning. Sometimes," he added, looking at her once again, "they are found carved into walls or written on scraps of paper or even entwined in the sounds of a stream making its way through the world."

"How can you tell prophecy from, say a prank? What if someone just makes something up and waits to see how everyone reacts?" Sarah asked.

"Because it's something that makes itself heard and recognized in way I really cannot explain to you, beyond the fact that we simply know it to be truth, deep in our very souls," was his reply. He shrugged. "I'm sorry, that's simply the way it is. We Fae can recognize true prophecy, just as many of us can recognize falsehood when we hear it, or sense when we're under attack even before our opponent strikes. The difference is that we all feel prophecy resonating; as soon as it makes itself known, it makes itself known to all Fae, born or enchanted."

Sarah nodded her acceptance of his words, if not her complete understanding, then gestured for him to continue. He'd been right to refuse to try and explain it to her earlier; she never would have been able to understand even this much before. Never been willing to, she admitted silently, too caught up in her anger and fear.

"One of the bindings of prophecy is how it can be spoken of, and to whom." Sarah straightened up, just a little; this was the part she was really interested in. "I was present when it was spoken, although I was very young at time, even by human standards. Prophecy caused my father to build the Labyrinth that is so much a part of the Goblin Realm that one can hardly imagine a time when it wasn't there." He smiled briefly at her, an impish glint in his eyes. "If you believed it was created just for you, in a way, it was. Only some of the details changed to match your beloved story once you caught my attention."

That was a question she decided to leave for another day; how exactly had she caught his attention in the first place? "So why didn't you tell me before you came to me that night?" she asked softly. The question that truly mattered. "Why didn't you warn me what would happen?"

He sighed. "Because there are rules, complicated rules, rules you wouldn't believe if you heard them because to the logical human mind they'd make absolutely no sense."

Sarah made a face. "Try me!"

Jareth shook his head. "The only way I could truly make you understand would be to put the concepts directly into your mind."

She shrank back from him as much as the overstuffed chair would allow. "I guess I don't need to know that much," she stammered, her heart stuttering in her chest.

Jareth nodded, as if expecting her response. He held very still, as if afraid to move, until her hand finally relaxed on his and her breathing and heart rate returned to normal. "You could not know the terms of the prophecy until after your part in it was…" He hesitated, searching for the correct word. "…confirmed."

"In other words, you couldn't tell me till you already got me pregnant," Sarah guessed. "Because of these complicated, not logical rules."

Jareth nodded, even though it wasn't really a question. "I'm sorry, it's the best explanation I can offer you now. Will you just accept that this is how it had to be?''

Sarah considered his request for a long moment, idly entwining her fingers through his, not noticing how his breath caught in his throat as she did so, how his heart rate increased and his pupils dilated. When she finally spoke, it was in a slow, thoughtful voice. "I don't know if I'll ever be able to just accept anything about this situation," she answered. The one he'd expected, if not the one he'd hoped for. "But for now, it'll have to do. I'm still trying to figure out the basics of living here, let alone anything as complicated as this prophecy thing. But I do have one more question, if you don't mind."

"Anything," he breathed without meaning to, but the word was spoken and her grin made him very sorry he'd said it.

"That night," she said, once again speaking slowly, picking out her words with care. She blushed as a series of vivid memories flashed through her mind. "That night," she tried again, after clearing her suddenly clogged throat. "Why could you only stay till the moon left my window?"

"Because prophesied moments almost always have time limits attached, whether implied or overt," he replied, his fingers tightening on hers. "If you weren't the one, then nothing more would have come of it. That would have been the end of our story, instead of just the beginning. It has to do once again with Kara being the medium through which the message was sent," he tried as she gave him a puzzled, disbelieving look. "And because you were mortal as well. Being mortal means having limits a Fae does not, do you understand? As your life had limits based on time, so must our time together until prophecy was fulfilled." Or denied, but he didn't want to get into that with her now, not when she'd finally started speaking to him again, allowing her back into her private sphere after holding him aloof for so many long, lonely months.

Sarah shook her head ruefully. "Yeah, I'm not sure I get that, but OK. We had limits on us because we had limits on us." She looked back at him with an uncertain smile. "But there aren't any limits on us now, are there?"

He was happy to answer that question. "None. When you are ready, I will be here for you."

"What about when the baby's born?" some inner devil prompted her to ask. "Will you be with me then?"

He looked taken aback, then grimly determined as he answered. "It is not usual, but nothing dictates that I leave your side during childbirth except custom. If you wish me to be there, I will be there."

Sarah giggled at the expression of noble fortitude on his face. "Thanks, but I think Elena will do just fine," she gasped at the end of the giggle fit. "I just wanted to see your expression when I asked."

He stared at her so long her smile faltered and she dropped her eyes, only to feel his free hand move to cup her chin and tug her face back up gently to meet his. Then his lips were on hers and she was kissing him back with a fervency she hadn't anticipated.

She felt herself whimper when he abruptly pulled away. "My apologies," he said in a hoarse voice. "I forget myself." His glance darted toward her mid-section then back up to meet hers.

"Jareth, pregnant women are allowed to have sex; even I know that," she protested, but he shook his head.

"No. I can wait until you are truly ready. After the babe is born." With that he rose to his feet, removing his hand reluctantly from her abdomen and kissing her fingers. That was apparently his good-bye, because he vanished before she could offer another protest.

Sarah sank back into her chair, once again wearing a pout. Men! Just when you wanted to, they didn't. It had taken her months to get to this point, and he turned her down. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

She looked daggers at the place he'd just occupied. "Just you wait, Jareth," she muttered. "After this baby is born, you're going to regret saying no to me now." A smile curved her lips. "I think I need to have a serious talk with Elena about how to seduce a Goblin King."

After all, turnabout was fair play.