Chapter Twenty Five

Six days.

Six days of wandering her room, her only company Amr, who brought her meals on a tray. She tried to wrangle him into conversation, but he only shook his head with sad regret, handing her the food. Departing, and locking the door again, causing her to scream and scream, cursing Jareth and to cry with frustration.

She tried, and failed, to seek her magic. The power eluded her. She felt the tug under her flesh, the presence of something, but she couldn't tap into it. Damn Jareth! She was not chattel to be kept under lock and key, but for the moment it seemed, prisoner was all she would be.

She looked at the clock on the mantle of her fireplace. Almost time for her noon meal. Once more she would try to connive the general into either letting her out, or at least talking with her a bit.

He didn't look her in the eye when he opened her door, a double knock his only warning he stood outside. He tried to leave after placing her meal on the table beside the entrance, but Sarah reached out and grabbed his wrist. Not letting go.

"Please. Amr." She peered up at him. He had over a head and a half of height over her. "Don't go," she said. "Please, if you are my friend—" Her tone purposefully coy. Feminine and soft and imploring. He bent his body down slightly, his face nearing hers, before he jerked to his full height once more.

"I am," he answered quickly. He tried to back out of the door.

She tried to drag him in, knowing what an impossibility it would be to get him to budge if he refused. He didn't refuse. He let her lead him into her small sitting area, his eyes darting around. Still not looking at her.

"I shouldn't—" he said, bracing his body against the sofa. He sighed, sat down. "Sarah—" It was the first time he had said her given name.

She cut in, her voice pleading. "Just a little while. Stay, please."

She hadn't begged so much in years. But captivity had that result on her; she hated being alone for more than a day or two at a time. Jareth had made her stay in her rooms for nearly a week.

"I can't interfere with the king's decisions."

She frowned. "Did he tell you not to speak with me?"

He hesitated. "Not precisely."

She brightened. "Then you're doing nothing wrong."

"Jareth won't like it if he catches me in here." He added, "Alone with his queen."

She folded her arms about her. "I am not his possession."

He didn't refuse her statement. Sarah battled; she wanted Amr to tell her all that was wrong. She also knew Jareth's anger. He wouldn't be pleased she tried to coerce information from his general. Then she decided she didn't care.

"What is going on? Why have I been placed here so long?" Daring him to expose.

Amr faced her. "You denied the king his son. I warned—"

She crossed her arms. "Jareth can be a real bastard when he chooses, but he would never choose to hurt me." She knew it to be accurate. Even in her rage-filled mind, she knew her husband. And while he loved to torment, he never tormented without cause.

"No." He hesitated.

She pressed. "My being here isn't just about Jason, is it?"

Silence. He debated. "No."

"Then—"

Amr shook his head. "It is up to the king to inform you."

"Is it my son?"

Pause. "In some part."

Sarah growled. "I don't want Jason to be exposed to—"

He straightened. "He is being trained. That is all."

She backed away. "I don't want—"

Amr snapped at her. "It is not your decision." His folded arms brooked no further remarks.

She nodded. Her battles could be waged. Carefully. She changed the subject, still willing to rile him. Knowledge meant power, and she had so little of it in her reservoir.

She saw his brows furrow at her acquisience, as if knowing she played him but having no proof. She continued, her eyes calm. A tad conniving. "I am trying to practice my powers. Nothing is happening."

He stood, towering over her. "You are drawing on the Labyrinth?"

She nodded. "I think so."

"Where do you feel it?"

Her eyes darted up to his. "I feel a tug in my side—"

He shook his head. "No. That's not your power."

Sarah tilted her head in confusion. He fought a grimace. "That's what you have of your bond with the king."

"You make it sound…incomplete." And hideous.

He nodded. "It is."

She sat, not understanding. About to ask him why, when the door flung open. Jareth entered, the air chilled. Jareth's mood, evident. And he growled, as if he knew her not to be by herself, his temper justified. He glared at Amr. Glared even more at Sarah. She glowered at him, not budging in her defiant stance.

"Well," she said. "Have you come to see your handiwork?"

Jareth snapped at her. "Jason wants to speak with you." So, no forgiveness. She fought not to flinch.

He held open the door, Amr walking through first. Jareth paused him and hissed something in his ear. The general flushed, and continued out the door, not looking back.

"He wasn't doing anything wrong."

Jareth paused. "No. But were you?" Baiting. Defying her to deny it.

Sarah leered. "Why? Jealous?"

He took her calmly by the arm. "If you give me cause to be."

It wasn't worth it to rile him. She was being let out, and she let that cool her temper. "You needn't worry. I have better things to do than seduce Amr."

Jareth grunted. "I wonder how you convinced him to enter your rooms in the first place."

She smirked. "It's my pretty face."

He clenched his jaw. His hand, however, remained gentle as he gripped her. "Come. Our son requests an audience."

Our son. She hated that she told him. Maybe if she had just kept quiet, she would still have her freedom.

He walked her through the corridors. Quiet. Pensive. She dared to look up at him. His jaw had the tightness of a man not used to being challenged. Sarah bit back a grin.

"How is he?" she asked.

Jareth gave a small smile. "He has come into his power. It's a magnifient thing."

She paused, startled. "I never thought—"

He looked at her, bland. "Didn't you believe that a child of ours would have the magic of us both?"

She shook her head. "I have no magic." Sarah grimaced, "And I wish that Jason never had to find his."

"Why?" A growl.

She said, soft, "Because when we return to our world, he will only have pain for it."

"Neither of you are returning, Sarah." It was not the caustic remark she expected. Instead his words held pity. Remorse. Pain.

"Why would you say that?"

"You have no world to return to."

She snapped at him. "What? Like the Above is destroyed?" Clearly not believing him, her tone bitingly sarcastic.

"Of course not. But you, in that world, are no more." He strode forward, pulling her with him, her mouth agape. "And neither is Jason."

She let him pull her. She found it hard to breathe. She panted, not from exertion, but from an impending horror.

"What do you mean, Jareth?" He didn't answer. She asked again, then yanked him to a stop. "Jareth. Tell me."

Her jaw squared. He turned to face her, his face at turns triumphant and full of sorrow.

"Do you wonder why it is you can't tap into that powerful magic of yours?"

She shook her head. "I thought I just had to teach myself, that I had to learn—"

He took her into a loose embrace, and her fear didn't make her fight it. "No, my sweet." His voice gentled. "Your body is hovering… life versus death, in your world. And Jason…" He paused, his voice giving way. "He has no life there at all, anymore."

She trembled. "Explain. Please."

Instead he said, "When you returned, it wasn't of your own will." Not answering her question. Giving explanation that made her fume with impatience; he said much. But said nothing at all.

She opened her mouth to deny. He shook his head. "No, Sarah. You were summoned. And somehow your spirit and mind are here, where you are safe. Your body is…" He stilled. "It is near dead."

"How?"

"Your body rests within a coma." Carefully nonchalant.

She let him run his fingers along her arm. Comforting. Possessive. Giving her more reason to doubt him.

"I feel real enough." She squirmed, not wanting to believe.

"You are real. In this world, you have completeness." He added, "You were meant to be here."

Sarah would beg to differ. But she said nothing.

He peered at her, his eyes careful as they watched her. Her lips trembled as much as her body quaked. He gathered her into his arms, and she let him.

"What happened to Jason?" she whispered.

His answer chilled. "His jailers found him dead. He let go, and gave up to this world. He wished to be here."

Sarah pulled away, uncertain and scared. "That's impossible."

Jareth shrugged. "Why lie when I have you both here?"

"Did you make it happen?" Hushed. Panic in her voice.

He gave a light sneer. "Of course not. If I could have, I would have done it long before."

She gave thought to his words. "Jason brought us here." She knew, even before he acknowledged. He nodded.

"I don't understand how he even knew the Underground existed."

Jareth laughed. "I believe he found a book." His eyes beaded with anticipation. A retribution for the waiting he had for her to return to him. "And your delightful stories. He always believed I was real."

She hissed with dismay. "No—" Her fault. Her fault…

He finished, broadly pleased with her reaction. "He found it in a not so secret hiding spot when young and it found him again when he was of age. Sarah," he said, trying to sway. "I tell you true. Your life was always meant to be lived here." His eyes darkened. "With me."

Her brow furrowed, and she said, "What about—" She coughed delicately. "My dress?"

Jareth laughed, bitter at the remembrance. At the pleasure that dress had caused. She read his face. Torment was all over it. "That, my sweet, is all on you."

"I didn't—"

"No. But the entity that calls itself the Labyrinth, did." His snarl made her realize he spoke the truth, even as he elaborated further. "You are connected with the very monster that seeks to destroy. I gifted you, you might say, so very long ago."

She blushed. "After I won." She tried to absorb, to take in all that he said. His tone bordered on frenzy, as if time would barter her back. Away from him.

He flinched. "You should know that you were chosen to win. No one beats the Labyrinth."

Amr had told her the same thing. She nodded, letting him take her arm again. They continued walking in silence.

She felt like a spell had been cast over her, a reckoning that perhaps she had always been meant for Jareth. That maybe their bond hadn't been a mistake. That all she had grown to know had been all for coming back to him. She flushed, even as she walked silently. Jareth turned to her again, his voice quiet.

"Is it so bad, being a part of me?"

She startled. "I don't know." Part of him… She craved it even as she hated it. She hadn't worked her entire life for independence just to give it up to him. But maybe he was as caught as her. To be bound. To tangle.

Jareth stopped and turned, watching her. "Sarah—" He sighed, a painful gasping sound. "I wish…"

She found her heart beating faster. He never gave in to his own wishes. He granted them. "What, Jareth?"

He whispered. "There is so much still for you to learn. And time is short." He led her the remaining way, his face deep in thought. "I hope you will let what is to come not frighten you."

She tipped her head in question. He shook his head, replying, "No. You aren't ready."

Sarah didn't debate. His fear radiated from him; a warrior that never backed down, except when it came to her. Maybe…maybe he did care. He left her in front of Jason's quarters, giving her palm a lingering kiss. Bowing. Then departing.