I'm BAAAAAAACK! Yes, I know I just updated, but this is like the sign that I'm really back; a quick update! Don't you all just love me? Anyways, thanks again to all who reviewed, especially all the new people. And thank you for all the subscribes and favorites! I love you all! :P
I don't usually do this, but I unintentionally confused an unsigned reader, who asked if the line "and then the spell was broken" in the last chapter meant that Jareth's face was normal. I apologize for the confusion; I simply meant that the father/son moment was over.
Okay, now that everything's clear, on with the story!
She what?
"She what?" Jareth managed to whisper. His heart nearly stopped beating and he suddenly felt very cold.
"She-she doesn't w-want to see you, your highness." the faun repeated hesitantly.
Jareth felt like a shard of ice just pierced his chest. She didn't want to see him. She didn't even want his presence. He felt like everything was crumbling. Breathing heavily, he placed a hand against the wall for support. Rejection stung like hell. She didn't want to see him. Jareth removed his hand and instead leaned entirely against the stone wall. Faintly, he could hear the healer calling his name, and he noticed detachedly that his vision and hearing were fading. This time he was completely aware he was losing consciousness. It was strange and surreal. Like he wasn't in his own body, like he was watching himself in slow motion. And then everything went black.
Meanwhile...
Letholdus arrived at the Castle of Oberon at sunset. Landing gracefully at the door, he swiftly resumed his Fae form and shook the wrinkles out of his robes. He was High King after all, and needed to look presentable. Satisfied, Letholdus allowed himself a smirk. He was certain Oberon would not be pleased at his unannounced arrival. It worked perfectly into his plan to catch Sadon by surprise.
With a snap of his fingers, Letholdus flung open the ornate castle doors much to the surprise of two doormen standing just inside. One gave a shout and made to throw the "intruder" out, but upon realizing who he was talking to, dropped to one knee in a gesture of reverence. The other followed suit almost simultaneously, and Letholdus nodded in acknowledgement.
"I need to speak with King Oberon and Prince Sadon." he declared, "Immediately." Eyes widening, both doormen nodded, rose and bowed. Then the one who shouted fled out the massive entry hall, leaving the other to nervously escort the High King to the royal council chamber. Because Letholdus was High King, and Oberon only ruler of the Aboveground, any audience between the two was conducted in this meeting room, where they would be seated as equals.
Once situated in the seat reserved reserved for him, Letholdus casually took in his familiar surroundings. He had met in this room for centuries, and had spent many an admittedly boring council memorizing its details. Though not nearly as ornate or opulent as the royal council chamber in his castle back in the Underground, the craftsmen responsible for the Aboveground's chamber had done their job magnificently.
From the jewels imbedded into the gold moulding to the marble floors, from the cathedral ceilings depicting the Aboveground's history in paint to the diamond knobs on the top of each chair, the chamber was truly a sight to behold. No one could deny it that. But Letholdus felt it lacked the respect and dignity of the High Council Chamber in his own castle though he would never admit it to Oberon.
Not for political reasons, but because both Fae had grown up together, establishing a strong friendship. Oberon's council chamber was his pride and joy, and Letholdus, harsh as he could be at times, didn't want to spark a loud argument over "who's chamber was greatest." Not with Oberon.
He was glad to have Oberon though. The king was someone who was able to talk to Letholdus freely, which had its ups and downs admittedly, but was quite refreshing when compared to all the Fae nobles groveling at his feet, choosing their words to their best benefit. Oberon didn't mince words; he didn't have to and Letholdus appreciated that more than he would admit.
Their friendship puzzled most Fae. Enmity between Underground and Aboveground rulers was common and almost expected. If Jareth hadn't been born, many would speculate that Letholdus was one spoken of in the prophesy as the peace he managed with Oberon was, well... peaceful. However, Jareth was indeed born, enmity had sparked between two sons, and two realms were in tension once more.
Just then, the doors flew open and Oberon hurried into the room, confusion etched across his handsome face. It is true that Fae beauty is unparalleled, and Oberon was no exception. With dark, shoulder-length hair and soft brown eyes, hardly a line marred his tanned skin. Except when he was puzzled that is. And at this moment, Oberon was beyond puzzled.
Hastily taking his seat across from Letholdus, he shifted once, twice until finally he let out a sigh. Letholdus remained silent, and mentally counted down in his head how long Oberon would keep his silence.
3... 2... 1
"Well damn it Letholdus!" Oberon burst out right on cue, "Why the hell have you dropped in on me like this?"
Letholdus smirked and allowed himself a small chuckle. "Predictability is not something a ruler should practice my old friend." he advised. Oberon scowled and sat back in his seat.
"Cryptic as ever I see." he replied, "Let's cut straight to the point hmm?"
"Where is your son?" Letholdus asked abruptly, "It is imperative he be present, as this matter concerns him as well."
"Here, Uncle." came Sadon's bored voice from the doorway. (Now, although Letholdus was indeed Sadon's uncle, he was no relation to Oberon, except through marriage. Oberon's wife was Letholdus's half-sister.)
"Have a seat." Letholdus commanded, "We have important matters to discuss." Sadon reluctantly seated himself next to his father.
"Oberon," Letholdus began, turning his attention to the king, "I suppose you have heard rumors circulating-"
"About the mortal?" Oberon finished, "As a matter of fact, I have, though I have no proof of this story."
Glance shooting to Sadon for the briefest of moments, Letholdus replied, "Is that so? Well I can now tell you that the rumors are indeed true. The girl chose to travel with my son to his castle several weeks ago."
"She went with Jareth?" Oberon demanded incredulously. Letholdus frowned,
"Yes," he drew out slowly, "With Jareth."
Offering an apologetic look, Oberon continued, "Well that is good news. I don't suppose we can borrow the girl for a spell?"
"Oberon." Letholdus's tone was quiet and serious, and Oberon's pleased expression faded,
"What is it, Letholdus?" he asked, "What has happened?"
"How well do you know your stars Oberon?"
"Well enough, I suppose. Why do you... No. You can't mean..." Oberon trailed off. Letholdus nodded and Oberon weakly sat back in his chair.
With a frown, Sadon leaned forward and placed both elbows on the table in front of him. "What are you two talking about?" he demanded. With a groan, Oberon buried his face in his hands and waved a hand in Letholdus's direction.
"Sadon," Letholdus began slowly, "Did you ever take astrology as a child?"
"Of course I did. No Fae education is complete without it," Sadon replied, "Your highness." he added.
"What do you remember about the star Agapi?" Sadon thought for a moment, and then he laughed.
"You can't mean that the mortal and my cousin are going to fall in love with one another!" he scoffed. Observing Letholdus's serious expression, he continued, "The idea is absurd. No one has seen anything similar to it come to pass. Not one account. This is obviously just a scheme. If you want the mortal to stay in your realm, you'll have to be more cunning than that-"
He was cut off from his rant by his father's strong hand smacking the back of his head. "Silence!" Oberon commanded darkly, "And watch your tongue in the future, boy."
Allowing Sadon's comments to slide for the moment, Letholdus turned his attention back to Oberon. "Unfortunately, the situation is much more serious than that. It seems that the dark magic used before my son's birth reacted negatively to his star destiny."
"Meaning what?"
"Meaning that if Jareth can't get the girl to love him, he will eventually die."
Oberon paled considerably and his jaw dropped. Sadon meanwhile, broke from his sullen pout and leaned forward in shock. "Die?" he repeated.
"Indeed." was Letholdus's reply, "His health is already failing at a considerable rate. Do you see why it is imperative the girl stay in the Underground?"
Oberon was silent for a minute, and Letholdus could practically see him wrestling with himself. Leaning forward in his seat, Letholdus added, "I'm willing to bargain with you Oberon."
Sadon rolled his eyes. He knew his father would agree to anything; his friendship with the High King guaranteed it. They were closer than brothers, and Sadon wasn't sure he liked that at the moment. It wasn't fair! His cousin, his enemy, the one who stole his throne would also be the one the mortal chose. There went any hope for honor and respect Sadon had ever had. It just wasn't fair! Didn't he know much more about court than Jareth? Wasn't he significantly more suave and attractive? He had everything, and yet nothing. Hell, Jareth even had his own kingdom!
This wasn't right. It simply wouldn't do. And Sadon was prepared to change it. The wheels in his head began turning at an astonishing rate, and a plan began to formulate, even as the kings came to an agreement and set it in writing.
"And you are certain you'll be satisfied with just that?" Letholdus asked as both Fae rose and prepared to leave, "Destined to a reign of unrest, just for the diamond mines of the south?"
"Letholdus, my realm is already restless. It is the way of the Aboveground." Oberon replied warmly Besides, you and I know the future is not completely set. Perhaps the prophecy won't need to pass."
"Thank you, old friend. Jareth can rest easy now."
"But I still get the mines, yes?"
Letholdus chuckled. "Yes. Now invite me to dinner my old friend."
Clapping a hand on Letholdus's shoulder, Oberon replied light-heartedly, "Join me for dinner. Titiana will be pleased to see you." Both kings left the room in good spirits, neither stopping to think of the prince still seated, formulating a plan to turn their world upside down.
Meanwhile, back in the Labyrinth...
Jareth woke up in his own bed, dressed only in his shirttails and with no memory of what happened after his father left. I must have passed out again. he thought, sitting up and shaking the cobwebs from his mind. Just then, a faun hurried into the room. Recognizing him as a healer from a town just outside the Labyrinth, Jareth wondered if losing consciousness wasn't all that happened to him.
And then he remembered.
With a groan, Jareth curbed the childish urge to bury himself under the warm covers of his bed, and instead threw them back. Swinging his legs out, he tested his strength and was pleased to find he could support himself without the room spinning. That was new.
"Vidaconstante." the healer stated abruptly.
"Beg pardon?" Jareth asked. What is he talking about?
"I gave you vidaconstante. It's an herb that will help with your symptoms."
"I've never heard of it before." Jareth replied, "Is it rare?"
"Vidaconstante is only found in one place." the healer recited as though being quizzed, "The Bog of Eternal Stench."
Wrinkling his nose, Jareth thought for a moment. "I'm going to need a lot of it then." he said at length.
Eyes widening, the healer protested. "Your majesty! Vidaconstante will only mask your symptoms; the longer you use it, the worse you will become."
"Well I'm going to die anyway." Jareth muttered miserably, rooting through his massive wardrobe, trying to find a vest as well as a pair of boots; he had no idea what happened to the pair he had been wearing previously.
"I really wish you had contacted me sooner." the faun continued worriedly, "I could have done more to prolong..." he trailed off.
"What's done is done." was the king's brief and muffled reply. The faun's expression became horrified.
"I'll do what I can," he began, but Jareth cut him off.
"Don't bother." he said, pulling out of the wardrobe, "I live or I die. No use dragging it out. Now would you mind telling me the time?"
"It is nearly midnight sire." Jareth's mouth dropped.
"That late?" he demanded. The healer nodded and Jareth rubbed his temples out of habit. He was out that long? Shaking his head, he dismissed the faun, allowing him to go back to his home.
With a miserable bow, the faun exited, leaving Jareth to finish dressing.
Letting out a resigned sigh, Jareth sat himself back on the bed to pull his shoes on. He was almost surprised at himself, for being so calm. But then again, it made sense. Did you actually think she would fall for you? he asked himself as he stood up.
He didn't know what to do now. Yes, he knew she would probably dislike, maybe hate him, but having it actually happen was much different than a scenario in one's mind. Jareth had to at least talk to her.
In the morning of course...
... But checking on her to see if she was all right couldn't hurt. She would probably be asleep anyway.
What the hell! He was going to die anyway...
And that was how Jareth found himself in front of Sarah's open door, clutching the posts and staring in horror at the empty room before him. And he had the feeling she wasn't in the Labyrinth either.
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