Title: The Unexpected (Chapter Fourteen)
Fandom: Labyrinth
Spoilers: The movie
Rating: Pg-15 (-ish, since Toby has to deal with a bit of violence)
Disclaimer: I don't own the Labyrinth of anything related to it. I'm not making any money off this story.
Timeline: Takes place approximately twenty-two years from where the movie left off.
Summary: Toby's always lived his life by the natural laws—laws of science and reason. The sudden disappearance of his newborn nephew, however, brings to light a whole new meaning of reality...
Sarah Williams would never claim to have extrasensory powers, but she'd long since given into the delusion that she had acquired an acute sense of intuition with the birth of her first child, something she's tempted to call 'maternal instincts', if not for the fact that Toby's always managed to show up somewhere on her radar. Half a sibling or not, a part of him is nestled in her veins and she knows what he feels even when he doesn't, perhaps more so than the woman that gave birth to him.
Stepping through the front door of her father's house, said father and husband in tow, she dragged her weary feet to the stairs and flopped down to untie her boots. There was a nagging feeling in the back of her mind, a sense that she was missing something important. It reminded her eerily of the day Toby fell and broke his collarbone.
"Thank God, you're home."
Someone stirred in the living room and Sarah turned her head to see her step-mother stretched out on the divan. Irene rubbed an eye blearily, looking positively worn out and old (older than she would like to admit) as she rose to greet them, taking one of Simon's crutches as she helped him over to the loveseat.
"How are the kids?"
"Blissfully silent," Irene sighed. "Toby took them upstairs about an hour ago and read them a story. I think he's in bed."
No worries, then...
Or not.
The nagging feeling was still there—worse now than when she was in the car.
"I'll be right back," she said, shucking off her jacket before turning up the stairs. "I'm just going to check up on Johnny."
"You have a well behaved child there, my dear. I don't think I've ever heard a baby quite as peaceful as him."
She nodded in insentience and tiptoed to the second floor. Quiet... Peaceful... 'Blissful' was not a word Sarah would use for it. 'Blissful' would be the sound of her children's giggles muffled by their pillows and quilts as they pretended to be fast asleep. 'Blissful' would be the sight of Toby crouched in the hallway, lying in wait for the right moment to pounce on them...
'You're too quiet, my darlings,' she thought.
Peeking into the room shared by her eldest children, she scanned the slumbering mounds on each of the twin beds before closing the door behind her. Carefully, she moved down the hall to her bedroom and pushed the door open gently. Moving toward the crib, she leaned over the railing to stare at her slumbering babe, wondering if she was about to see a repeat of history, if she was to move the blanket and find nothing underneath...
Jonathon was fast asleep, stomach rising and falling rhythmically as he breathed. Reaching over the bars, she brushed her fingers tenderly against his forehead and cheek before tucking him tightly into the folds of his soft, blue blanket. It was one of the gifts Toby had given her at the baby shower.
Stroking his delicate face one last time, she took a step back from the crib—
—and cursed quietly under her breath as she stepped on the mobile phone.
"The hell..." she muttered. Bending down, she picked up the receiver and checked its battery life on the screen, heel throbbing as she adjusted her posture. It was a wonder Toby had left it in here.
Toby was borderline obsessive when it came to cleaning his apartment—something Irene had grilled into him before he left for university. More often than not, he usually bugged her about leaving her things lying around.
Smiling faintly, she turned to see if he'd dropped anything else and spotted one of her small storybooks on the floor beside the bed. Reaching down to pick it up, she slowed as she realized exactly which book she had been confronted with.
The 'Labyrinth'.
She brushed the worn spine apprehensively, tracing the gold engraved lettering before she could convince herself to lift it off the floor. It felt heavier than she remembered, no doubt a figment of her imagination—one which sent her mind reeling as she tried to think of a million plausible reasons as to why the fateful story had crossed paths with her once again. Admittedly, she still kept ties with Hoggle and a few of the other, friendlier occupants of the Labyrinth, but they had never thrust themselves into her life. She was the one that had to call upon them if she wanted to catch up on old times, never the other way around.
The thing of it was, no one could cross over into her world without being summoned, aside from Jareth perhaps—and even then, his powers would be restricted.
And yet everyone was still here.
But Toby...
She could feel her heart hammering against her ribs, a frantic staccato as she darted from the room and down to the door at the end of the hall. Shoving it open, she only needed to take a glance at Toby's empty bed before making up her mind.
The mirror in her room had been moved out long ago to make space for the crib and the double bed. There was another mirror in her father's room, and one downstairs by the front entrance, but she needed privacy and there really was only one place she could find that.
Running to the bathroom, she flicked on the light switch and locked the door behind her. Taking a moment to collect herself, she faced the mirror above the sink and released the breath she'd been holding. Now was not the time to panic. Now was a time for action.
She swallowed; tried to compose herself. Crying would not help the situation.
"Please, I need you..."
Her heart continued to swell; battering against its cage; drumming out the time for the devil's promenade... usually it took a while for Hoggle to reply, but never this long. This was forever. This was hell.
"Come on, I need—"
Something crashed into the shampoo stand in the bathtub, struggling with the shower curtain as it declared its undying loyalty to a very fair and very brave maiden.
Sir Didymus was an honest surprise. He was usually too busy protecting a bridge or fending off a lizard half the size of Ambrosius to respond to her calls. She hadn't really spoken to anyone in about a year, but Sir Didymus and Ludo had been missing longer than that.
Speaking of which, she was rather glad it was Sir Didymus thrashing about in the bathtub and not their lumbering companion.
"My lady!" he hollered. "My lady—I have grave news!"
She was right...
"Calm down," she murmured, reaching over to untangle him. It took a moment, but eventually he was able to scramble out of the bathtub and strike a valiant pose. "What is it?"
He stared at her. Then blinked.
"Sir—"
"Wait!" He reached into a pouch at his belt and pulled out a scrap of black cloth. Unfolding it, Sarah realized it was a mask. "This is...oh, yes!—this is a message." He cleared his throat: "Under no circumstances is my lady to make a deal with anyone concerning the disappearance of her brother."
"...Why not?"
"I'm afraid I can't remember, my lady. There was a young man...I think...He bestowed this trinket upon me and charged me with delivering this message to you. So...there. I've done it."
"That was Toby," she sighed. "The babe, do you remember?"
"Though I never laid eyes on him, I do remember our siege of the castle and the cry of your beloved brother, my lady. You were successful in your journey, were you not?"
She rubbed the bridge of her nose tenderly, and closed her eyes. "Success can only last so long, Sir Didymus...How was Toby when you saw him?"
"If that stranger was indeed your brother, my lord was veiled, I'm afraid. What I do remember of him is little...He was sad, I think."
Of course—but was he kidnapped or did he stumble upon the Labyrinth by mistake?
"When you saw him, what was Jareth up to?"
"There was a babe..." he said, staring at the ceiling; trying to remember the specifics. "A different one—not your brother, my lady. And then a certain 'Toby Williams' was named heir to the throne."
Sarah felt her heart stop for a moment. "...I'm sorry, Jareth did what?"
Sir Didymus glanced around himself nervously, searching for the right words as she waited for his answer. "Well...you know, his majesty has gone on for so long without one, it wasn't all that unexpected when he announced it... Although, whether or not my lady's brother accepted that honour remains to be discovered. He can very well decline."
Not if he was bargaining for an infant child.
Especially if said infant was Johnny.
But how—and why? Beings from the Labyrinth generally had to be summoned. And even if Jareth could bend that rule for himself, Sarah couldn't imagine anyone wishing her youngest son away.
Why hadn't she burned that book when she had the chance? Pity? No—stupidity fit the bill in this situation.
"I have to see him," she said. "Can you take me there?"
Sir Didymus' ears perked up immediately, eyes flashing wildly with excitement and pride as he saluted her. "My lady, I would be honoured."
She waited for him to do or say something along the lines of a spell, but he merely walked around her—into the sink.
Turning to follow him, she was accosted by a rose bush.
Sarah jerked back in surprise.
She found herself on a balcony, one which overlooked the winding passages of the infamous Labyrinth, the Underground, a land of misfits and their Goblin King... The sun was hiding in the east, waiting to rise in the canyon just beyond the maze to chase away the stars and wake this enchanting world. It was a familiar sight, one which made her heart ache.
Overwhelmed by nostalgia, she stepped between the rose bushes to glance at the glowing horizon. Completely dazed, she paused a moment to appreciate the view. This mystic landscape had been quite the sight for her child mind. It was her every dream come to life…
Turning again, she gazed into the dim luminosity of the room and fixed her eyes on the robed figure of the Goblin King.
"Where's Toby?"
The corner of his lip twitched. He smiled.
She had almost forgotten how arrogant he could be.
Despite the natural air of intimidation he carried in the presence his citizens, she wasn't afraid of him. As a young girl she'd allowed herself to fall, somewhat, for his strange allure—that bit of mystery and ethereal charm which clung to him as closely as his shadow. But she'd found peace in her normal life. As mundane as it could be some days, she wouldn't trade the world for Simon or her children.
"It's been nearly a millennium here and I don't even merit a simple 'hello'?" he asked in nonchalance, almost as though that 'millennium' hadn't affected him at all. "Really, Sarah, you haven't changed a bit."
"Toby's missing again. Perhaps that has something to do with it."
"Perhaps, so..."
Narrowing her eyes, she leaned back against the balcony's railing and eyed him for a moment—the same regal attire, the same troublesome mien...Jareth was every bit the sidh she remembered him to be. "...I'm assuming I have to challenge you to see him?"
"I'm afraid not."
Startled, she was a little lost for words.
"Your brother requested that I allow no one to bargain for him," he continued. "Namely you—"
"You're lying—"
"My dear, I have little need for lies… You can see him, if you'd like. According to the time between our worlds, he's spent nearly half a year in the Underground, and apparently it can be quite the experience for someone from up above..."
"As a prisoner," she snapped.
"Hardly. Your brother has upheld all the laws of a regular citizen and is allowed to roam this world freely. Although, he spends most of his time in the archives..." Jareth glanced past her for a moment, admiring dawn's first blush. "Your brother is a natural well of knowledge, my dear. His science has always been an interesting topic for conversation..."
Sarah could honestly care less about her brother's exchange of knowledge with the Labyrinth's inhabitants—she was more interested in what he was still doing here and why he didn't want anyone to take him home. Toby loved his family; loved Susan. As meek as he was, Sarah knew he would never give up his life for this.
"If this isn't a trick, I don't know what is," she seethed. "If you're looking to wound me, you've succeeded—let Toby go and I'll do whatever you want."
"Wound you...?" He asked; quietly. "No, never...All your brother has to do is challenge me. If he wins, he can return home—same as any other citizen."
But why he hadn't already challenged him was what worried her the most. "...Then let me see him—I want to talk to him."
Jareth lifted his right hand slightly, gesturing to someone unseen. A second later, she heard the scurry of claws against stone before a small, armoured rat appeared at the king's side.
"I want you take her to the library. You have my permission to return her to the Otherworld upon her request."
The thing saluted and turned sharply on its heel.
Apprehensively, she followed it into the quiet passages of the castle.
-1-Toby Williams-1-
Sunlight crept over the windowsill and flooded the room with a sudden brilliance, the blasé heat of day chasing away the cool whispers of the night. The feeble flame of his candlestick dulled in comparison to the radiance that fell across the open book, its worn and archaic pages practically glowing under its care. He almost didn't want touch them then. There was just something so simple and clean about this moment, this first touch of warmth, a reminder of a time long since forgotten...
He glanced at the candle, stretching the kink out of his neck as he reached for another volume. The flame flickered briefly before a tongue of smoke licked the air in its place. In another second or two, the wall torches followed its example and all that was left to illumine the long, narrow passages of the castle's library was the sun.
Shelves stretched out in every direction for a small eternity. The books which surrounded him now were older tomes examining the beginning of the Labyrinth and its curious connection to the Otherworld—a place he swore he knew. Almost all his knowledge consisted of what the Otherworld labelled science and the current history of its people. Even with all that the king and the library taught him about magic, his knowledge of the aboveground and its workings far outweighed that of what he knew about the Labyrinth.
Sighing, he flipped open the next volume and scanned the index until he came across the curious topic of wishes. The king told him to look it up—that he would need to learn it sooner or later. There was a great difference between having the ability to perform magic and the capability to control it, the latter of which he was sorely lacking.
Mentally, he prayed he'd never have to grant any wishes. It was sure to end badly...
"...Tommy, you have a guest."
He caught sight of Smorf out of the corner of his eye and closed the book before it had a chance to ensnare him. Tom could spend days in the library sometimes—testament to the last twelve or so hours he wasted here, wandering the aisles, reading... The amount of material the king ordered him to research wasn't helping him either, proving to be more of a roadblock than an aid to his own quest for more information concerning the Otherworld.
"I'm sorry to ask, Smorf...but could you please tell his majesty that I can't see him right now? I'm a bit tired."
Which was actually an understatement.
The king was relentless in his pursuit, and it didn't seem to matter how many times Thomas turned down his offer, Jareth still expected him to learn everything about the kingdom in hopes of accepting his proposal. Magic could be relatively simple once you got the hang of it, but the sheer number of spells, charms, and curses in the king's knowledge was incredible—a great deal more than what Thomas could ever hope to understand, let alone master. Cheep tricks were nice; granting wishes was sheer murder...
The goblin shifted its weight nervously from one foot to the other. Smorf had always been a little forlorn around Thomas (why, he could never imagine...) but today's attitude struck him more as 'frightened' than anything else. He couldn't exactly remember when he first met the soldier, but he'd certainly always felt at ease around him.
"It's not the king..."
Thomas opened his mouth to speak—and stopped mid-thought. He really had no idea who terrified Smorf more than the king—except, perhaps the Hunter. But the Hunter wasn't really a cruel man. He was just...enigmatic.
"Alright," he said. Slipping off his chair, he left his books on the table and smoothed down the front of his coat. "Who is it?"
Smorf didn't say anything—merely scurried behind a shelf and returned with a woman in tow. Before Thomas could ask for an introduction, though, the goblin darted back into the shadows.
"I...have to apologize, I'm—"
"Toby..." she murmured, taking a tentative step forward. She looked tired—a great deal more than he felt. Her dark hair was pulled back into a severe ponytail, face pale. She was beautiful, however, even though the tell-tale signs of age had drawn lines at the corners of her mouth. He was guessing that she laughed a lot...someone who wasn't too familiar with the bitterness of sorrow or regret. He could see it in the glimmer of her eyes.
If he had to guess, he would say she was a mother.
Jareth said his unnatural aptitude for reading people was probably born from his love of observation, possibly the same reason he sometimes understood science better than magic. But there was an inkling in the back of his mind, a bit of pressure that warned him there was magic at play preventing him from reading this woman entirely...It could be her own powers at work, but she didn't look like the type of person that had something to hide. More of a risk-taker than a homebody, really.
"No...I'm afraid you have me mistaken for someone else," he replied. "My name is Thomas. Is there something I can help you with?"
For a moment, she looked as though someone had slapped her across the face. Staring at him incredulously, she licked her lips and tried think of something else to say. "You...you don't remember me?"
"I don't think we've ever met before. I apologize if I've forgotten. I've been a little busy as of late..."
After all, there was no rest for the weary.
She blinked, followed by brief flash of anger, soon to be replaced with confusion. "He said it had only been half a year here—how can you not remember me? I'm your—"
Grey specks danced across his vision; the blood rushing in his ears. Faltering, he felt the cruel tug of gravity as he reached out for his chair—
In a moment, his hearing returned to him; his vision a second later. Sitting on the floor, he was aware of the woman kneeling down beside him, the soft touch of her palm pressed flat against his forehead, meant to be soothing despite her alarm. Her eyes were wide, horror stricken...
Briefly, he wondered if she was going to cry.
"I don't understand..." she breathed. "I don't know what he did to you, but we have to go."
"Where?"
"Home—aboveground—anywhere but here."
He shook his head and laughed a little. "I just can't leave. No one can...unless they're escorting the king."
"Then challenge him."
Thomas laughed again. This time, it felt a little good. "Are you insane? Who in their right mind would challenge him?"
"Listen to me—when I called up an old friend, he had a message from you telling me not to save you. Even if you hadn't left the message, I would've found out about your disappearance sooner or later." Reaching under his arm, she pulled him to his feet and dusted off his shoulder. "I can only assume that it means you have a plan...and that perhaps seeing me was a part of that plan. You'd have to be a complete idiot not to realize sending a message like that would keep me from coming after you."
As ludicrous as it sounded, the knot in his stomach told him that there was at least a grain of truth to her words. It was just something so oddly familiar... "Why would I need to see you?"
"I don't know—advice? Maybe you need me to kick you into action? I don't think you'd challenge the king unless I came here to tell you to...Seeing you now, I don't suppose you think you have a reason to, do you?"
He was hit with another wave of vertigo, but it passed quickly enough. At least this time the woman was close enough to keep him steady. "And why wouldn't I just want you to save me?"
"Because I have unfinished business with the king. As foolish as you are, I know you're only trying to keep me safe. If I make another bargain with him...well, I'm not exactly sure how that would turn out."
"So...you came all this way just to tell me to challenge the king?"
She swallowed. "That's the idea."
Easier said than done.
And where would he go from there? What was waiting for him in the Otherworld besides a woman he could barely remember?
Even so, there was something nagging at the back of his mind, something that was telling him to take the leap, consequences be damned.
—But he wasn't like that. He was quiet and reserved. He usually followed orders to the tee, even if he hadn't accepted the king's offer yet...one which would've prevented him from ever leaving the Underground. If he agreed to be the heir to the Labyrinth, he'd be tied permanently to the kingdom and its king. He would almost surely never leave.
Which is probably why he never accepted.
...Which is also why this woman was probably right.
"I need to think about this," he said. She watched him nervously until he turned away from her. "Please...you must understand how crazy this sounds. I'm one of the king's advisors, I don't know who you are or why you care so much about my being here, but...I'm sorry, I can't explain it."
"You've always been like that..." she murmured quietly. "You might not know what you're doing but you've always had faith in your intuition...at least, when your mother isn't hovering over your shoulder."
Mother.
The word struck another chord in his heart. Sadly, though, it failed to stir any memories.
Who could forget their own mother?
Thomas swallowed the lump forming in his throat and reached out for the table, leaning against it for support as he thought about what she was suggesting. He knew she was right. There were too many gaps in his memory to be natural—too many precise things. How could he have such a wealth of knowledge and not remember a single item pertaining to happiness or love? Who were the people he once cherished? Why had they been hidden from him?
"You want me to challenge the king?" he asked quietly, in finality. "For what?"
"For a chance to return to the aboveground..." she replied.
And what, exactly, did she expect him to find there?
But did that really matter? Anywhere had to be better than here, a place that felt both strange and familiar, with a king and an army that were just as much his friends as they were his captors. This place was nothing more than a gratified prison...What would it be like up there, in a world he had obviously visited so long it go?
Licking his lips, he inclined his head slightly to one side to address her, careful not to let her see the uneasiness in his expression. "Alright. Now, please...leave me."
She hesitated. He knew she would. But she let the moment slip between them and he listened to her footsteps as she retreated into the darkness. Faintly, he heard her ask someone to return her home.
He couldn't say why exactly it hurt to let her go.
The little stone in his coat pocket suddenly felt very heavy.
Pulling it out, he held the chip between his fingers and took in its dull, gray glow...the fine, sharp edge where it had obviously been broken off from a larger fraction, decorated with all the little nicks and scratches of a seemingly adventurous existence. It was wonder to him that it hadn't been smoothed out by one force of nature or another.
He'd always had the stone, though he couldn't quite remember why.
"What the hell am I supposed to do?"
"Challenge him, of course."
Thomas turned sharply on his heel, almost dropping the stone in surprise.
Standing between the bookshelves was a young gentleman, somewhat older than himself, with a striking black cane tucked casually under one arm and pair of white gloves held loosely in his right hand. His frock coat and riding pants were navy blue, a stark contrast to the dark auburn of his hair, and he smiled almost mischievously—so much like Jareth, but at the same time so different, in a way that probably should've troubled Thomas, even though it really didn't.
Thomas took a moment to compose himself, but it was too easy to be distracted by the man's eyes. Lively and green, they studied him carefully from the safety of the shadows, possessing an élan quite unlike anything Toby had ever seen before.
Startled as he was, it only felt proper to begin the forthcoming conversation with: "Who are you?"
"My friends call me Elliott," the man replied, pausing in his introduction to bow, "but you, my lord, may call me Elliott."
For whatever reason, that brought a smile to his face.
"And what exactly are you, Elliott? Not a sidh..."
"No, more of a spirit than anything else. I'm one of many beings that inhabited the land before his majesty tamed it."
"From what I've heard, you rarely—if ever—take on a material form."
"I come from the mountains," Elliott explained. "And although we prefer to be left in peace, we do take on inanimate or animate forms occasionally. I'm not powerful by any stretch of the imagination, but there are those that are older than me who have made themselves known to the king in the past. For the most part, we prefer to remain hidden."
"I see..."
The man smiled—like he knew a secret. "You have a question?"
"Yes..."
"And now I suppose, you want to know what you are?"
Thomas was amazed, to say the least. "I...well..."
"You were born a human," Elliott explained, "but you've taken on the best and the worst of both worlds. Like the Hunter, you are neither here nor there, but rather somewhere in between..."
At least he knew was completely human at one point in his life.
And humans only came from the Otherworld.
"I think I want to go home now, Elliott."
"An excellent notion, my lord."
"But I think I want to know what you're doing here first."
"Oh, don't be a fool, Tom. You already know why I'm here."
Surprised, Thomas blinked. "Clearly, I don't."
"...It's because you've been cheated," Elliott sighed. He glanced at the tomes and the solemn candlesticks, and then out the window at the dawning of a new day. "Many years ago, the Labyrinth fell in love with you—wanted you to return, in fact, so it jumped at the chance to bring you here. It was selfish, I suppose, and more than just a little juvenile, but laughter is such a rare thing in this world, something born of true joy and not tomfoolery or manipulation..."
"And you're here to make up for that somehow?"
"Once this world realized its mistake, it asked if anyone would step forward and fix the problem. And so here I am... 'in the flesh'."
"You will guide me then?"
"No," he said softly, "you don't need anyone to guide you, Tom. That's the lesson of this whole affair. You need to realize that you're the only one who can decide your fate."
"I don't quite understand the relevance of that statement here. How can I be in complete control if my memories have been stolen from me?"
"And whose fault is that?"
Thomas didn't say anything. He had a feeling that it was somehow his own.
"You will understand everything soon enough, I promise you." Elliott swung his cane out from under his arm and pointed it down the dark corridor behind Thomas in the general direction of the throne room. "Now, go to him, while Sarah is still fresh in his mind. Love does funny things to a man. Believe me."
Thomas stared down the corridor, and then turned back to Elliott. Suddenly, his heart ached something dreadful. "Well…what about you?"
"What about me?"
He felt a little foolish, but a part of him suspected that this man was one of his oldest friends. "When I'm gone, will we ever meet again?"
"Confident that you'll win, then?" Elliott smiled. "Good. I like that."
"That doesn't answer my question."
Elliott glanced mischievously at the rock in Thomas' hand.
With a wink he said, "I think you'll find I'm not the easiest person to lose."
And somehow Thomas knew that that was incredibly true.
-1-Jareth the Goblin King-1-
He knew this day would come eventually.
The pressure was building behind his eyes—miniscule, but irritating nonetheless, and it was winding, steadily, like the fire along the tail of a firecracker, snickering toward something undeniably brilliant and volatile...
Something not too unlike that of Sarah's temper, he supposed.
But she was gone now. He could feel her absence in the corner of his heart, an ache that was old and tolerable, but by no stretch of the imagination pleasant. The brief visit she bestowed upon the Labyrinth was like the gentle warmth of the hearth creeping up on a man's before settling somewhere deep within his bones. This had once been her dreamland.
He had once been her dream.
He tried to turn his attention elsewhere and his thoughts drifted reluctantly to the young Toby Williams who was undoubtedly stewing somewhere in the farthest reaches of the archives right about now. He knew the boy would want to speak with him concerning the unexpected visit of his sister, but he wished, in some small way, that perhaps the boy wasn't as sharp as Jareth knew he was—that the boy hadn't been hoping, secretly, near the end of his journey, that Sarah would come and give him a clue to his freedom.
But it was in all likelihood that he had.
The boy really was clever in his own right.
When Jareth purged Toby's mind of all the emotive little anamneses lingering inside his head, the math and the logic left untouched, he worried that perhaps the boy would lash out at him like Sarah had when he first imposed himself upon her life. Instead, Toby was quiet. Collected. His journey had been an obvious strain on him and he was too tired to care immediately about all the peculiar little things that were happening around him. He slept the first day of his civilian-ship off and hadn't confronted Jareth directly until the second.
He told Jareth that he knew he was out of place. He wasn't sure how and he wasn't sure why, but he would figure it out eventually and rectify the problem immediately.
That was all.
...Toby was an exceptionally intelligent individual, but Jareth knew it was the boy's patience that would ultimately lead him to his freedom. Unlike the Hunter and the other lost boys and girls, who had grown almost bored with the idea of leaving the Labyrinth, Toby was willing to spend an eternity trying to solve the hidden puzzle inside his mind. And he would. It was why Toby refused the king's offer of royalty, something that was now a daily occurrence when the younger Williams wasn't busy researching ways out of the Labyrinth. Jareth tried to keep him busy with other tasks, bogging him down with orders that would keep him occupied, but Toby was willing to burn the midnight oil if it gave him that extra bit of time he needed to figure things out. Teaching him magic had taken up a great deal of the boy's time, but Toby was reaching a point where some things came naturally to him.
Jareth leaned back into his throne, glancing out the window in the solitary silence of his home.
"Your majesty?"
Eyes darting to the door, he took in the figure of the young man and nodded for him to enter. Feeling rather lethargic, he remained seated.
"I don't suppose that woman had anything of interest to say," Jareth commented idly.
"You'd be surprised."
"Then, please…entertain me."
Toby hummed thoughtfully in the back of his throat, somehow managing to look rather dour, more so than usual. "...I would like to challenge you in exchange for my freedom."
Although Jareth had been expecting those exact words someday, the sudden request still managed to stun him. To a degree. What exactly did Sarah tell him in that brief appointment? Certainly not much, considering the pains Jareth had taken to make sure Toby could remember nothing of his family.
Then again...when given the choice of either waiting an indefinite amount of time before challenging the king or sacrificing his memories for the right to choose whenever he would start the trials anew, Toby had chosen the latter. The boy knew how to manipulate the game, and considering how close he was to his sister Jareth had no doubt she would be able to convince him to leave. As he had originally thought, it was really only a matter of time...
Somehow he hadn't expected it to be this soon.
And that infuriated him. "I'd rather you didn't."
"It isn't your right to make that decision."
"Don't argue with me," Jareth warned, eyes narrow. "You don't know the people of the aboveground...They'll break your heart."
"That still doesn't change my mind."
Slowly, he stood, looming in the way only kings could when faced with insubordination. "Ultimately, it's your choice, but do I need to remind you that you are and always will be a citizen of this world no matter what the outcome of this event? Even if victory guaranteed you the right to come and go as you pleased, you could never leave indefinitely..."
Toby nodded. "I'm well aware of that."
"Your Time," Jareth continued, referring to the boy's seemingly eternal youth, "would not be altered by the aboveground, but would remain in sync with the passing of time in this world. Those people would notice it eventually."
"I know."
"They would label you an anomaly."
"I know."
"You'd be an outcast!"
And then, quietly, "...I know."
Jareth knew that Toby had always felt a little out of place, but the boy was more familiar with the inhabitants here than he was with the people from his past, and his inherent want to preserve the natural flow of things, the scientific flaw of his design, had kept him firmly under Jareth's thumb. Until now, that is. Sarah had told him too much and Toby's voracious appetite for knowledge had fuelled his unusual desire to question Jareth's power.
Thinking, calculating, piecing together his next few moves carefully—Jareth took a step closer to the boy, enough to support the advantage of his height but slowly enough as not to put his ward on his guard.
"Do you imagine that I'm a cruel man?"
Toby blinked in surprise, but the look was fleeting. He tried to remain composed. "No. Not at all."
"Then what made you think I wouldn't have a problem with letting you venture up there? It is my sworn duty to protect my people, but I can hardly do that when you're a world away."
"I need to leave."
"Care to explain why?"
Toby held his breath after a sharp intake of air between his teeth—so much like his sister—and then, slowly, released it. His eyes wandered briefly to the scene outside the window, the blossoming of a new day, and then returned his attention to the king. "Do you hate me?"
—'If you're looking to wound me, you've already succeeded'—
His likeness to Sarah was uncanny sometimes. Jareth felt a sharp pang in his heart.
He couldn't understand why they always thought he was out to do them harm.
"Hate you?" he asked quietly; incredulously. "Never..."
Toby studied him for a long moment. He looked pained himself.
It was the first time someone had shown any true understanding of the intonation of Jareth's voice—had reflected the feeling to him; sympathized... The boy was different from his sister in that respect. Such a thing was hard to find in this world, someone he could express his thoughts and emotions to, and then have them returned in a most eloquent way.
"Then give me this," Toby replied, eyes pleading. Another breath…a lingering silence…and then… "Let me go… Please."
For the second time in his life, Jareth felt his heart breaking in two.
He didn't know how he was going to survive this familiar scene a second time should Toby win.
Outwardly, he composed himself. He stood straight, kept his chin up just so, and then returned to his throne. Toby's eyes followed him carefully. "If you challenge me and lose, you will take me up on my proposal without delay. If you should win…you will be granted the power to come and go between the two worlds as you please, for exactly 364 days out of every year."
Toby arched an eyebrow curiously. "Only 364 consecutive days out of every year?"
"364 human days, to be exact. That is a natural rule, one which I cannot control. You've been here too long. Reality no longer considers you wholly human."
Toby nodded slowly, processing this new information. He did not look upset though and that gave Jareth hope. "I would therefore spend 24 human hours here, I'm assuming, on the anniversary of the moment that I leave this world. Is that correct?"
"Precisely."
"And if I win, you will stop pestering me about the throne?"
"Not on your life."
"It was worth a shot," Toby sighed. "That's it then? When does the challenge actually begin?"
"It begins…" Jareth glanced out the window, thoughtful. He knew how he wanted to do this. The challenge would have to be something tricky for his clever little boy. It would also have to be truly terrifying. "It begins now."
And with that, the light completely left Toby Williams' world.
A/N: Can anyone say 'hiatus'? I know I can! *collapses to the ground, crying hysterically*
If you're still reading this story, I applaud your godlike patience (and apologize sincerely for tormenting you for the last, oh… *checks last update* five and a half years?). If you're new, there's one or two chapters to go, yeppie! And theeeeennnn there's the sequel that I'm planning…
Oh, Lord, give me strength…
*crosses self* Amen.
((PS: Oh, dear God, the settings on have changed…Help.))