Chapter Twelve
"Truth"

The sun was setting when Sarah opened her eyes again, finding herself still cradled within her husband's arms. She only gave him a small smile when he arched an eyebrow and frowned at her disapprovingly: she knew how it irritated him when she didn't cower beneath his glares.

Her smile quickly faded as memories of earlier that afternoon came rushing through her mind. Jareth clearly noticed because he deliberately became more stoic.

"I really don't know how I am supposed to run a kingdom when I must spend my every moment tending to you," he complained, hoping to distract her.

"Jareth," Sarah whispered, "I'm dying, aren't I?"

For a solitary moment, the Goblin King was bereft of all defenses, all facades, and all answers. His darkening eyes betrayed his own helplessness and the shadow that fear cast upon his face was undeniable, unmistakable. He sat with his back ram-rod straight, almost as though he could bluff his way out of the truth he could not face.

His silence was answer enough.

Sarah pulled away from his embrace and turned her head on the downy pillow. Three months ago, this same fate terrified her, it had been unimaginable, but now she felt nothing. Life wasn't fair and there was nothing she could do about it.

"Sarah," Jareth's voice was taut and forced, "look at me."

She didn't move.

"Sarah…" he sighed, reaching to touch her face with his gloved fingertips. "Sarah…"

"Why didn't it work?" she asked softly, calmly.

He stared at her silently, feeling the weight of her words press his heart, slowly crushing it. He had been here before: in the Escher room, when he realized that, though he loved her, she would leave him and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

"It didn't work," he began slowly, blinking back the threatening sting in his eyes, "because you don't love me."

Sarah turned and looked up at him with an expression he could not read. Was it confusion or knowing? Disbelief or acceptance? –Her soft green eyes just gazed into his evenly, almost as if determined to unman him.

"How long?" she questioned.

He took a deep breath and blinked back the sting again before answering: "There is no way to tell."

Sarah just nodded, surprising him at her complacency. The Sarah of two-and-a-half years ago would have cried petulantly like a child, but then that Sarah had grown up in the Labyrinth. His Sarah…

"It's not fair, is it?" he chuckled weakly, hoping he could make her smile, even a little.

"And what's your basis of comparison?" Sarah inquired, arching her eyebrow.

He just gave her a weak smirk in response and folded her white hand within both of his.

"Sarah," he began, mustering up his will, "there is still a chance. Nothing is wrong with you as long as we're together: you can learn to love me."

"It's that simple?" she asked, almost skeptically.

"This is the Underground," he reminded her, a genuine smirk curling his mouth.

"What if I can't?" she asked, her voice barely audible.

Jareth felt his very heart sink with her words. –What if she couldn't love him? What would he do if he had to live out eternity without her love? What would he do if he lost her? –He didn't answer.

"You'll love me alright," he promised at length, his grin conceited and confident, even if it was only a ruse. "One day soon, you won't be able to tear yourself from me."

In the past and under different circumstances, Sarah would have found his attitude infuriating, but, in all honesty, she was far too tired to care. She was even tired enough to find his statement brilliantly amusing.

"I can't tear myself away from you now," she replied chuckling. "At least, not without dying, that is."

Jareth couldn't hide his pleased smile as he watched her eyes dance girlishly. In that moment she was every bit the girl he had fallen in love with years ago; the same innocence, the same spirit. He almost wanted to stop time just hold onto her laughter.

After the final incident, Jareth informed Sarah that she would be spending her days by his side. Though he said nothing, he had become convinced that some malevolent force was working against him and his bride and he was determined to keep her where he could be sure she was safe. If something like that happened again, he knew, she would die from it.

So the Goblin King and Queen spent their mornings, afternoons, and evenings together in Jareth's study. At first, she sat in an arm chair by the fire place, reading whatever she had found to educate herself on the ways of the Underground, but even on the first day Jareth's diplomatic and domestic dealings ardently intrigued her and he soon found her practically reading over his shoulder.

He pretended to be intensely irritated that the "foolish girl" expected him to teach her political science when he was trying to run an investigation that could through the entire Underground into a second Dark Time, but in all actuality he hadn't expected an less of her. He did nothing to help her and took no time to instruct her, but he let her watch and learn from him, never once forbidding her from "hanging over his shoulder like some depraved vulture".

Sarah caught on quickly, just as he expected her to, and soon he was handing her the more trivial domestic problems to deal with, so that he could focus upon the more delicate issues regarding his relations with the other realms and the progress of the investigation.

The whole situation regarding Bruehm troubled Jareth: of the twenty-eight agents, only a handful reported back to their lords and Jareth's were among the missing and unaccounted for. Both of Bruehm's agents had returned and reported to their king of strange happenings in the Mountain Kingdoms. Megrim openly declared this to be proof of Bruehm's guilt and Jareth felt he should agree but everything felt so out of place…

Bruehm was no fool: why would he spare his own agents when all the others were either missing or found floating down stream and when all eyes in the Underground were upon him, ready to destroy him? No, Bruehm was not a fool…

These same thoughts played themselves over in Jareth's mind, robbing him of sleep and appetite. When night had fallen and Sarah was sleeping in his arms, oblivious to the fact that he was watching over her, he would smooth her hair gently so as not to wake her and muse over all that was happening. What if he went to war? What would Sarah do if he left her? What would he do if he lost her?

Neither of them spoke of it, but there were often afternoons when Sarah would retreated to her arm chair or the window to clear her head and have some semblance of privacy for a while. For a while, it seemed peaceful, wonderful not to have to deal with Goblins, etc, but if she remained there for too long she would begin to feel intense fatigue and a dull ache seep into her body.

Jareth never said anything when he felt her draw up to his side and touch his shoulder with his fingertips, but he would hold her hand, or cause her to let him hold her until she felt better.

What else could he do?