An Absence of Stars
Chapter 6: Love Without Your Heartbeat
Disclaimer: The Labyrinth remains the intellectual property of the Jim Henson Company. We are making no money off of this fan fiction; we're just two rabid fangirls who want to see Jareth and Sarah wind up together and torture them while we're at it. :D We've done extensive research into other continuations of the story and have pieced together our own interpretation of what might've happened to these characters. In short, we're trying to do something original-ish. Other fantasy/science fiction influences may, admittedly, bleed into this story.
Authors' Notes: As always, a big thanks to our reviewers: Selkiesong22, BowieQueen, WhatisWithin, and our newest reviewer, Effusion 14. All of you help to fire up our muses to complete these (belated) chapters. This is another long one, so we hope that you'll enjoy it! — Mystical_Grace and Meghanna Starsong
"""""
"You can't be in love with me." Sarah stiffened.
"Can't I?" The King of the Goblins scoffed and leaned back against a stone window ledge, arms folded across his chest.
"It makes no sense," she insisted, her fingers flexing on her knees. It was another trick of his. He had to be toying with her again.
"Tell me, Sarah, when has love ever made sense?"
"I mean...it's just...why?"
"Because you're you. You're utterly radiant, Sarah, a Light unlike anything I've seen in all the Realms. It's only natural that I'd be drawn to you." Jareth eased away from the windows, his footfalls silent on the stone. He couldn't seem to stop himself from drawing near to her, as if somehow magnetized just as he'd said. He hovered before her, his graceful hands at his sides. "And unlike the fickleness of humans, my feelings have never waned, only grown stronger with the passage of time."
She sat up straighter on the bed. "I don't believe any of this." Her hands fisted into the bedcovers, her fingers spearing the soft sheets. "Someone like you has no idea what love is. What you're feeling is—I don't know—infatuation or something."
"Don't presume to tell me what I feel, Sarah." Jareth's jaw tightened. His eyes burned a bright green, like an arc of lightning before a storm. "With your history of romantic blunders, you simply aren't qualified to do so."
"Screw you!" She glared at him for a good measure before turning her face away from him. "I don't have time to argue with you, Goblin King. Your feelings are the least of my concerns."
"I begin to understand, even empathize with, your would-be fiancé's exasperation with you." His lip curled.
"That's none of your business!" Sarah's cheeks flamed with indignation.
"Another phrase you say so often. Your repetitive refrains are becoming dull."
"If I'm so dull, why don't you save yourself a headache and let my friends and me go?!" she fired back, jutting out her chin and meeting his icy gaze with the fire of her own.
"You have no qualms about making demands of me, and yet you have the audacity to throw my affections callously back in my face." The bitterness in his voice was palpable, so sour that she could nearly taste it herself. "I shall no more listen to you than you are to me."
Something inside of her deflated like a balloon. This tension between them, this cattiness, was getting them nowhere. Her temples pounded in agreement, their back-and-forth having elevated her headache almost to a migraine. She applied pressure with her fingertips to the sides of her head, rubbing small circles there in hopes of easing some of the pain.
"I never wanted any of this," she said tiredly. Her eyes pricked with frustrated tears at the unfairness of it all, and for once she didn't care how juvenile she was acting. She was exhausted, depressed, hungover, and wanted to go home.
If only Jareth would be civil and let her...
He shrugged his shoulders, pointedly ignoring her wallowing in self-pity. "And yet here we are, a shortsighted shrew and a king besotted with her despite his better judgment."
"Then stop feeling whatever it is you think you are!" Just like that, the dying spark of her temper reignited. Sarah could no more ignore his taunts than she could breathe. She had to get in the last word in an argument. It was a weakness that'd carried over from her teen years, and it often reared its ugly head during inopportune moments such as this.
"Come, come now. Feelings are not so easily changed." He shifted his weight from foot to foot in agitation. "I think that you, of all people, would understand this."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Wasn't it for that very reason that you parted ways with—oh, what's his name? James? Jeffrey—despite his reluctance to do the same?"
"Jacob. My ex is Jacob," she corrected in a tight voice.
"Whatever that pathetic man is called." He waved a gloved hand flippantly, dismissing the issue altogether. "I merely find it the height of hypocrisy that your feelings can't be controlled, and you freely act upon them, yet you expect others to do the opposite."
"Not others. Only you."
"Says the woman so mired in the fear of ineptitude and intimacy that she runs from anything remotely resembling either."
Sarah was on her feet in a heartbeat, uncaring of the chilly stones beneath her bare toes. She sputtered, grit her teeth, and then instinctively raised a hand to slap Jareth in retaliation for the sting of his words.
He caught her wrist in mid-arc as it flew towards his cheek and pulled her close. As he breathed, his chest expanded into her own, making her aware of where their bodies touched. A traitorous tingle swept down her spine. She downplayed its significance, chalking it up to a physiological reaction to her anger, to the damn drafty castle.
"You can be so cruel, just as I can be." Jareth loosened his grip, his eyes now glowing a warm amber. His voice, which had been biting, softened to honeyed tones. "I desire you all the more for it."
Sarah's face was red with emotion, and strands of her hair clung to her hot cheeks. It embarrassed her how easily Jareth made her lose control and brought out her darker side. She'd never hit anyone in her life, not even Bobby when he'd cheated back in college, and having almost done so now shamed her.
Jareth remained pressed against her from shoulder to hip, his nearness disconcerting. She felt an inferno beneath his wintry facade, and it both drew her to him and repelled her. She took a step away from him, almost stumbling backwards onto the mattress when the backs of her knees bumped against it, and he released her obediently. She caught herself on the footboard's nearest spire, and after righting herself, she cleared her throat and rubbed her wrist where he'd held her. She pretended to be calm, to be in charge of herself, but her skin prickled annoyingly where he'd touched her.
His pale brow rose mockingly at her, as if he were all too aware of what she was feeling.
"There's something I don't understand." She forced her brain to work, to focus on something other than him. There were people relying on her; she couldn't let them down. Though her body quivered with something confusing and complex, she pretended otherwise. If arguing and beseeching wouldn't work, she'd try a different way to reason with the Goblin King. "If granting my wish gives you power over me, then why don't you simply make me do whatever you want? You obviously can."
"I have no intention of forcing you to be my consort, nor will I thrust myself upon you like a beast in rut. Only the most depraved beings do such things." He frowned and pressed his lips together in distaste.
"That's rather...chivalric." She blinked in surprise.
He reached out and tucked some of her hair behind the shell of her ear. "Only your whole heart, Sarah, given freely, will satisfy me."
Her pulse leaped at Jareth's surprising tenderness. She shook her head to dispel the haze he was creating, to block out her reaction to him. There was something important about what he'd said, an implied double meaning. She latched onto his words, dissecting them mentally until she thought she understood it. "You mean, a goblin's power over the wisher only goes so far."
"I wondered if you'd catch that. You are correct; even when a king grants a wish, the wisher cannot be in a goblin's thrall," he confirmed offhandedly, his fingers now boldly threading through the hair at her nape.
Part of her wanted to lean into his petting. It felt...rather nice.
Blushing, Sarah batted his hand away, her mind whirling in a dizzying blur. "Let's calm down a minute." She took a deep breath to distract herself from Jareth and fit the chunks of information together. "You love me, and I want to go home. The Labyrinth is beyond your control, but you still have some influence within it. I won't leave without rescuing all my friends, and you won't settle for anything less than me willingly staying here with you. Is that correct?"
"Quite the conundrum, isn't it?"
She put a hand on her hip, thrusting it out rebelliously. "Fine then. Let's make a new bargain."
His eyes narrowed. "Go on."
"Here's what I propose: since I'm unhappy with this wish, I'll take on the Labyrinth and help you somehow fight this enemy you've mentioned along the way. In exchange, you'll help me track down my friends and save them. This is my new wish." It was a gamble, a hastily assembled plan born of desperation. She had no idea if it would work, but she was willing to try anything for her loved ones.
"Clever girl! A new wish to untangle the old." His words were reluctantly admiring. "But I may not be so inclined to grant it."
Sarah held up an index finger, halting him. "I think you will be if you let me finish."
"How bold you are!" He chuckled and linked his hands behind his back. He pivoted on a booted heel, meandering around the circumference of the bed like he had all the time in the world as he listened. "Very well. Proceed in your attempts to sway me."
"If we find all my friends and get them to safety before I reach the Labyrinth's center, I'll be satisfied and stay here with you."
"Ah, right to the sweet pudding you go." He smirked at her, as if he'd been expecting the straightforward reply.
She held up a second finger alongside the first. "But if we don't find everyone or they're still in danger, then I'll be unsatisfied with this new wish. That means we all must be sent back to the beginning of the Labyrinth to walk it again."
Jareth hummed and stopped walking, a finger plucking at his full bottom lip. "Let me see if I understand you: you intend to continually reset the Labyrinth until your true desires are met."
"In a way, I guess so." Sarah shrugged.
"Solving the Labyrinth automatically returns you to the mortal realm, but you won't risk it until your friends are out of harm's way. Hence, you tempt me to cooperate with such a scheme by using yourself as a reward, thus securing my aid traversing the Labyrinth and the reset mechanism necessary for your wish to ultimately succeed."
She said nothing, simply waited for his final answer.
"How arrogant of you to assume that you'll solve the Labyrinth again to begin with, particularly with how feral it's become." He snorted. "You very well may not."
"True," she agreed.
"Nor am I a slave to my desires, Sarah. I can refuse you despite the allure of your—admittedly tempting—offer." He flipped his long, pale hair over a shoulder and assessed her with unreadable eyes. "You're gambling dangerously with your own wellbeing to ensure theirs."
She winced but set her jaw. "I'd never leave anyone I care about in danger. If this is the only way to help them, then so be it."
"I'm well aware of your sense of loyalty," he said with mixed annoyance and respect.
"It's not a bad deal for you either. You'll have my cooperation while I'm in the Labyrinth and at least a fifty percent chance of me staying Underground."
"And how convenient with this new wish that, so long as my magic does not fail, you'll have multiple chances to attain your preferred outcome. Quite the safety net you've devised."
Sarah impatiently swiped hair out of her eyes. They were wasting precious time—time she wasn't sure if Tracy and Red, let alone her old companions, had. "Do we have a deal or not, Goblin King?"
"I may very well be a fool to even consider such an ill-advised notion." Jareth pinched the bridge of his nose with gloved fingers, a look of dismay on his face.
"Is that a 'yes' then?" she demanded, pushing him to commit.
"Are you certain this is the path you wish to tread?" His brows drew together in concern. "The Absence is unforgiving, Sarah."
A weird foreboding settled like a large stone in her gut. "Absence? Is that what you call it?"
"It's the name we goblins have given it. It is the absence of….anything." His face had a sharp, haunted look, one that hinted at past tragedies. "It takes everything and leaves nothing behind. It is emptiness, decay, death. The name seemed appropriate."
After seeing his expression, she hesitated, feeling unsure despite her bravado, but there was no turning back now. "I don't want this realm or the beings who live here to be harmed by such a thing."
"We find ourselves in agreement in this at least." He nodded in a solemn manner.
Surprised by his assent, she laughed quietly. "I never would've expected us to see eye-to-eye on anything. I suppose that shows how bad things are here now."
"Our interests have aligned on more occasions than you might realize." He tapped his pointed chin with a finger while considering something. "Might I offer another arrangement, a sort of insurance while in the Labyrinth?"
Uncertainty rippled through her, causing her muscles to tense. She regarded him with suspicion. She knew from experience that such generosity usually came with a price, especially when the other party was a crafty ruler of goblins.
Jareth coyly sauntered over to the great maw of the blazing fireplace. His fingers glided over the thick granite mantle, fingering a small statue of a lifelike fairy with bared fangs and wings spread. The orange and topaz flames lent his cool complexion sunset colors. "I will agree to the terms of this new wish and also provide additional aid in exchange for a small token from you."
Sarah scowled at him. "I already figured your support into the wording of my wish."
"No, no. I mean something aside from that." His eyes gleamed impishly, going as golden as the fire. "I will bestow upon you an emergency reserve of magic, one which you yourself control."
"How kind of you!" She rolled her eyes.
Jareth sighed mournfully. "Yes, it is my greatest failing."
"And what must I do for this 'magic boost?'"
With a smile, Jareth produced another of his crystals, this one glittering with something special. A bright rainbow swirled in its metallic depths, bouncing wildly off the insides of the crystal like a trapped animal only to circle back on itself. "What must you do, I wonder?" he said in a teasing voice, rolling the tantalizing crystal over the ridges of his knuckles.
"What're you scheming now?" Sarah grumbled. She couldn't help watching the bauble; it was, indeed, very pretty.
"To be able to access this power, you must bequeath some of your vital essence to me," he clarified, navigating the crystal back to his palm and spinning it like a top.
"No way!" She shuddered, her countenance twisted in disgust. "I want nothing to do with this side deal if it turns you into a vampire!"
Jareth scowled at her and drew himself up to his full height. "Don't be absurd. I am nothing like those fiends," he countered with injured pride.
"You could've fooled me," she muttered dryly.
"Now see here, Sarah. You have an abundance of energy, whereas mine is drained keeping my kingdom together. Acting as your guide dog while in the Labyrinth will only further sap me. You can afford to part with some of your life force in order for me to maintain my own existence."
"Can't you go leech off someone else?"
"Of course not!" he scoffed. "Only a Light, such as yourself, can safely transfer vital force without diminishing its own essence."
She blanched, even as she noted his use of the term "Light" again in reference to her. She filed it away to ask about later. "How'd you take energy from me? Suck my blood?"
"Nothing so barbaric." He juggled the crystal from hand-to-hand as he spoke. "There are three means to transfer vital force from one being to another. The first, as you so crudely suggested, is the partaking of blood. The second, which is equally unappealing, is the consumption of flesh. However, being the epitome of a gentleman, I prefer the final method: an exchange of energy through the mouth."
Her eyebrows shot completely up. "I am not—and I emphasize, not—kissing you!"
"I suppose I could consider your blood then—"
"That's disgusting!" The remnants of last night's wine gurgled in her stomach. "Forget it. I don't want whatever you're offering."
"Perhaps you would like a sample of the magic that a kiss could grant you?" Jareth strolled from the fireplace back to her, all relaxed elegance and nonchalance. He wedged Sarah between the bed and himself, his hand extended with the crystal in it. "This particular instance will merely be a demonstration."
Sarah's eyes darted around for an opening to avoid Jareth, maybe duck under his arm, but he'd successfully pinned her in this time. She'd been too slow to react to his movements, leaving the mattress at her back as her only escape route. It'd be embarrassing, but she could crawl across it if she needed to in order to maintain her distance from him. "I know you better than that. You always have some hidden secret or trick," she said testily while measuring the bed's width over a shoulder.
"Think of your friends. How will you save them all on your own? Even with your determination, you would be no match for the Absence or the Labyrinth with willpower alone. You will be like a babe facing a storm."
"I-I don't know." To her chagrin, she paused to really think about what he was saying. She had no plan, was just winging everything as she went along much as she had when she was a girl. Sarah's confidence slipped, but she masked it by forcing herself to hold his unsettling gaze. "I'll figure it out somehow."
"I may guide you to your friends, possibly transport them out of the Labyrinth, but if the Absence hinders us, I may not be able to reach you or protect you. You could be trapped, harmed, or killed as a result."
"It's a risk I have to take," she insisted despite a chill of foreboding dancing down her spine.
"As I weaken, Absence gains in power." He cupped the crystal and held it before her again, the milky glow shimmering like bands of an aurora across the room, like light reflecting off snow. "This added support that I'm offering could link us together in a manner that the enemy couldn't interfere with and give you an edge in the Labyrinth."
Sarah cursed under her breath. Jareth had almost won her over to his rationale until he mentioned them being joined somehow. Like hell! she thought, balking at the idea. "Why would I want to be connected to you? It's your fault that I'm in this mess to begin with!" she spat.
"This isn't the time to be stubborn or assign blame." His words became cajoling. "This is a perilous undertaking which could end in the worst way possible for everyone involved."
"In short, we all could wind up dead," she clarified flatly.
"How can you deny aid freely given in such a case?" He seemed genuinely puzzled.
"Call me crazy."
"You humans." He sighed. "How I wish you'd yield to my earlier request, Sarah, and consent to being my queen. With our combined strength, I believe it possible to restore my kingdom and banish Absence from it without jeopardizing either of us. It is, undoubtedly, the safer option."
"Being stuck with you for the rest of my life isn't what I'd consider safe," she groused and tossed her head.
Disregarding her last remark, he brought the crystal up to eye level, watching it with combined resignation, longing, and regret. His voice softened, tugging on her emotions. "I implore you once again to take this opportunity. Don't cast it aside out of obstinance and loathing. This time what I offer will cost you nothing and yet will explain everything. It is but a single moment of magic."
Sarah noticed the shift in Jareth to something more serious, and it disturbed her. She's never seen him so...well, so earnest and vulnerable. At least, she hadn't since he'd asked a confused fourteen-year-old girl about to dissolve away his Labyrinth and take back her brother to love him. I can't be certain of anything he says or does, but it would benefit us both if we worked together, even if for a little while. Hell, I don't know. Maybe he really means it, maybe he's losing against this Absence thing.
Her eyes darted from the thin lines on his face to a faint, easily missed quiver in his frame. Was it a trick of the firelight, or did his hair have veins of silver in it that hadn't been there before?
She shivered. Graying in humans was a sign of aging and transience; it was a natural part of life giving way to death. With Jareth, though, it was a jarring symbol of weakness, of something out of the ordinary.
Now that she thought of it, Jareth also moved differently from their previous encounter years ago. No less fluidly, but with exaggerated care. Even his cheeky flirtations were stiffer somehow. A seam of fragility ran through him, one which he hid marvelously, as befitting a Goblin King, but was nonetheless present.
"You're really worried about all of this," she realized, her mind finally accepting Jareth as more than just a crafty nemesis. And in doing so, the curtain concealing his true self parted, however briefly, and she saw the heaviness of responsibility and the uncertainty of tomorrow there.
"More than you could ever know," he huskily replied.
The rawness of his words crushed the remainder of Sarah's resistance. Surely all of this was too important for games, even for goblins. She closed her eyes and, for the first time, allowed herself to feel the weight of everything he'd told her. I need to understand more of what's going on. Jareth may be part of the reason why I'm in this mess, but he's also the only person I have to ask anything. Which means, despite my reservations, I have to meet him halfway somehow. Maybe if I compromise with him now, he'll be likelier to do the same with me...
"If I do what you say, you...you won't hurt me?" She flinched at how anxious she sounded. It's just a one time thing, she assured herself. Like he said, a single moment of magic. No big deal.
"You have my word as King of the Goblins," he said solemnly, the oath reverberating with power through the air.
Sarah inhaled and inched closer to him, her brows scrunched together. "No traps? No illusions? No lies?"
"None, I swear." He waited for her to approach him, the crystal winking in his outstretched hand.
"I must be insane." She stuck a finger out towards the beckoning crystal. Jareth froze, waiting expectantly for her, his eyes following her. "But just this once—"
The moment Sarah's finger brushed the crystal's cool surface, everything ceased altogether. She went numb, unable to control her limbs or feel them. The scent of snowy pine and damp earth filled her nostrils, and then all-encompassing blackness engulfed her.
She couldn't breathe, couldn't see. Something was happening to her.
Changing her.
An insistent force warped her matter and pulled her through a pinprick of a hole into an empty space, stretching her into an impossibly slender strand. It should have hurt, should have killed her, except it didn't.
She was somewhere Other, some place that was but was not, where there was no direction, no gravity, no creation. Her mind began to question its own existence, driving her closer to the bittersweet precipice of insanity. She almost forgot her own name, and then from the abyss came a vicious surge of energy, a dazzling incandescent supernova.
Light streamed all around her, rocketing off at uncatchable speeds, and colors burst everywhere, such hues that the corporeal eye couldn't begin to fathom. The outpouring of plasma and life consumed her, stripped away her independent identity, and also gave birth to another cosmos, another story.
Jareth was there with her, a blinding but constant radiance, tethering her to him before they fell through an infant universe together.
"""""
Time was irrelevant. Sarah/Jareth stood alongside it, not completely free from it, but neither totally at its mercy. They whirled and flamed, a sun holding solar systems together. Their magic was immense, creating and negating at a whim, a thought. Sarah/Jareth imagined hands, held the newly formed appendages up, and marveled as planets sprung into being on their fingertips as a result, rotating and flowering.
The Sarah was amazed and disoriented by everything.
As a unit, they felt strong, unstoppable, makers of incredible possibilities. But not infinite, not limitless, came the echoing thought from The Jareth cautioning her. Before The Sarah could comprehend more, The Jareth pulled them deeper into each other, twisting them together like two rolls of dough.
The fledgling universe vanished, unable to penetrate the place of internal stillness The Jareth carried them to. It left only The Sarah/Jareth in the present, feeling the core of each other and unraveling their stories. The Sarah was a mortal hungry for connection and purpose, who possessed a large, albeit stifled, imagination; and The Jareth a being, not immortal but long lived, whose essence was chaos and potential, who was Fey and goblin.
She, The Sarah, was a Light, a creative force who gave rise to new worlds, new realms, new potentials. Or, at the very least, could maintain ones that already existed. Many Lights on the mortal plane never knew what they were or their own capabilities, and inevitably winked out before having a chance to reach maturity. The rare Lights who were self-aware and mastered their power went on to share their illumination, warming the human realm, nurturing their own creations, and aiding other entities.
He, The Jareth, was a halfling of rare and uncanny strength, feared and lusted after by the Elves of the High Realm. He spurned an Elf-born betrothal and the selfish ways of his mother's people, instead siding with the goblins, Fey of lesser magic, during a conflict. He inherited the throne from his father, the old Goblin King, and upon ascension, he became entangled with the goblin realm and the Labyrinth, each an extension of the other. Should the Labyrinth fade from existence, the realm of the Goblin King would likewise dwindle and he himself would die.
"We never knew," The Sarah said.
"And now we do," The Jareth replied.
One fateful day, The Sarah tore up a rejected manuscript, yet another spurned by publishing houses, and threw it away, giving up on being a writer. Her Light, which had been exceptionally brilliant, dimmed. That same day a darkness infected the Labyrinth, beginning as a crack in a brick in an otherwise ordinary wall and evolving into an emptiness, an absence of anything. Soon, it grew into a hole, then a crater, and finally an entire section of the Labyrinth and its occupants went missing. The two events were linked, for the Labyrinth remained a part of The Sarah due to her nature once fueling it. Though The Sarah became an adult who forgot all that had transpired in the goblin realm, the Labyrinth never forgot her.
"Was it...our fault?" The Sarah whispered, horrified.
"We couldn't have known," The Jareth sighed, trying to soothe her. "Perhaps we should have guessed, though. We always knew The Sarah was...special."
"'Always?'" The Sarah asked, confused.
And so, The Jareth revealed the truth hidden from The Sarah until now: he'd watched over her since she was a child. He'd been drawn to her Light, to the innocence and clarity of her soul, across the span of dimensions.
In the beginning, The Jareth, as a curious being, observed The Sarah in ponytails at play. She'd chased dragons with a stick for a sword, played princess in her mother's castoff costumes, and drawn imaginary friends pictures in the dirt. When The Sarah's actress mother abandoned her, the little girl drowned herself in her imagination to escape the pain. It became a doorway of sorts, allowing The Jareth to visit her during sleep in dreams. The chance to have a Light, and a powerful one at that, on the side of goblins was too good to pass up.
Once The Jareth introduced himself, as was polite and proper, The Sarah accepted him like any other playmate, albeit a slightly more interesting one. They had many tea parties and adventures, which often centered around the little girl's fairy tale books. Often bored with tedious goblin affairs and lonely despite holding court, The Jareth spent many occasions with The Sarah, fueling her whimsies and conversing about all manner of things, like why the sky was blue and how he got to be so pale. He held chaste affection for her and felt protective of her, even going so far as to ward off nightmares seeking to feed upon her as she slept.
By the time The Sarah reached the cusp of womanhood, the seed of The Jareth's feelings budded into something more intense and unruly: love. He resisted it, rebuking its insistent presence and distracting himself from it with Fey and mortal lovers. Yet it persisted to needle him, like a wild rose vine wrapping itself tighter and tighter around his heart, until the thorns pierced him so deeply he could no longer deny it. He never wanted such a bothersome emotion, especially not one centered on a mortal. It was too confusing, too fallible, too...permanent.
As a result, The Jareth's frustrations grew, chafing the little patience he possessed and occupying his thoughts till there was room for nothing else, not even the stability of his own kingdom. For a love such as his to flower, to truly bloom, The Sarah must return the sentiment, must willingly embrace him. Yet how could she if she never recalled his existence beyond that of a dream specter upon waking?
There had to be a way for The Jareth to reach The Sarah, for her to recognize him. He paged through the archaic tomes of the Goblin Castle's library for answers, and when that failed, he sought the council of wise, ancient creatures. Sadly, neither the Sphinx nor the Griffin had such knowledge, though they sympathized with his plight. Refusing to give up, he combed through the scrolls of arcane magic left to him by his mother, an Elfin noblewoman, and ventured a risky pilgrimage to the Queen of the Elves herself, who in her spitefulness would not aid her halfling nephew. Though still angry that The Jareth would not join the High Realm, the Queen neither cursed nor killed him out of love for her deceased sister.
The Jareth carried on his search for answers around ruling the goblins, his visits to The Sarah becoming less frequent. Whenever he stole away to be with her, unable to bear the pain of separation any longer, he immediately plunged into their mutual dreams. The Sarah, as was the way of her kind, lived within the flow of time, and she transformed in Jareth's absence, ripening. The Sarah swung back and forth between the comfort of childhood ways and wrestling with the nuances of adult desire. The Jareth found he could no longer assume his old role of confidant; this Sarah instead dreamed of a dark hero, of a seductive lover who worshipped her, of touching and being touched.
This was a part he willingly played, and he did so with zeal. Though their deeds and conversations faded from The Sarah's memory with the sunrise, written off as mere "hormones" and "teenage longing," their passion did not. It left an undeniable imprint on her, like a constant sunburn on the skin, a point The Jareth took pride in, ruining her for more mundane romance and deterring her from the males of her species.
She was his, he was hers, and yet they were not. It was a fact that chipped away at The Jareth's sanity until he teetered on desperation, and the Labyrinth reflected his volatile state by birthing never before seen Fireys and expanding the territory of the dreaded Bog of Eternal Stench.
How could The Jareth express his love, his yearning, for The Sarah? There seemed to be no hope for him outside of the dreams. Bound by the edicts of the mortal realm, The Jareth as Goblin King could only shapechange into an owl, a vaporous darkness, and only assume man-form on very specific occasions . Still, once in a while, The Sarah felt him, would turn to look and see nothing but shadow or bird. The Jareth comforted himself with the knowledge that she at least sensed him on some level.
The Jareth's vexation at being separated from The Sarah and her lack of awareness of him finally peaked. As Fate would have it, his salvation came in the form of his own subjects. He heard them telling tales of the old days when his great-grandfather, Sefarius the Selfish, reigned and the mortal world overlapped more intimately with theirs. It was an era when human mothers threatened naughty children with being spirited away by creatures unseen and Jareth's callous ancestor allowed the goblins to do as they pleased.
That particular Goblin King's lax control resulted in many children disappearing and the bloodlines of several prominent goblin families carrying human lineage. Often the offspring of such unions, changelings, favored more of the human side, with the only clue of their mixed heritage being an odd glow in the eyes or a misshapen limb.
Then Sefarius perished in an embarrassing dragon incident, sufficiently ending the era of goblins running amuck, and his grandfather, Refus the Reformer, officially become king. Being of a more reserved nature, Refus instilled the written system of goblin laws and stabilized the mortal realm by closing several gates between the worlds. It was thanks to his grandfather that Jareth, and all of goblinkind, now suffered magical debilitations when amongst humans, something that certainly never endeared Refus to later generations.
And so, as Jareth perched on his stone throne, listening to his subjects lamenting the loss of Sefarius to a rutting wyvern and cursing Refus for his lack of fun, he formed a plan. If he could not reach The Sarah, then he would create a way for her to come to him: he gifted her with the power of wishes, the most basic of goblin abilities. If she said the right words and put her whole heart into it, he could grant the wish and pull her into his sphere of existence. As it happened, this, too, came to pass, and thus began the story of The Sarah defeating Jareth the Goblin King and his Labyrinth.
Rejected and wretched after the whole ordeal ended, The Jareth threw himself into the duties of his office. Despite his best attempts, he couldn't bring himself to remain far from The Sarah. To assuage the ache in his chest, he haunted her dreams in the distance, hiding behind her mind's vaporous creations, and she never sensed his presence unless he desired for her to. It was better for them both that way, he decided.
So it was, until The Sarah launched into a series of disastrous affairs beginning with an oafish dimwit (named Bobby, The Sarah supplied) in high school. After she confronted him about his decision to attend an out of state college without telling her, he accused her of not loving him when she refused to do long distance. Their break up was explosive and scarring. She never heard from Bobby again, although years later a mutual acquaintance mentioned he married and moved to California.
It was The Sarah's first real heartbreak, and it left her in a depressed state for months, her Light subdued and barely winking through the fog of her funk. Tired of watching her isolate herself while awake and crying in her sleep, The Jareth finally showed himself again to The Sarah. To his displeasure, her travels through the Labyrinth had faded, becoming nothing more than a repressed memory, something she convinced herself never happened. It broke the hearts of the friends she'd made during the journey, though they understood it to be the way of mortals and the rite of passage called "growing up."
The Sarah's inability to remember at least allowed The Jareth to resume playing characters in her dreams and to offer her some measure of comfort that way. He simply was the man juggling masks who embraced her while she emptied herself of tears. When his own emotions answered the pull of hers, he couldn't help himself from stealing pecks on the cheek or touching the back of her hand. The Sarah's useless paramours came and went, unworthy of her affections, but he was constant, the shadow man who unwaveringly loved her.
"""""
Somehow, Sarah peeled her physical hand away from the crystal. It hurt, like ripping a wad of dried glue off of her skin. The union between them splintered and shattered altogether, and the magic joining them dissolved into shimmers in the air. She reeled backwards, panting, and collapsed onto her knees at the foot of the bed. Sweat collected on her brow and pooled between her breasts. Her ears rang, a high pitched keening that slowly died away. She tingled from the aftershocks of the sorcery, her limbs ungainly. As she stared down at her hands, clenching and unclenching them, she half-expected to see lightning bolts zinging off them.
When she found her voice after swallowing several times to moisten her cottony mouth, she exploded. "You!" she fumed, because there was no word dirty enough for her to use in this case. "I can't believe you! I didn't understand anything that was happening!"
Jareth slumped sideways against the footboard on the stone floor, also ashen and trembling. He looked bizarrely disheveled, his frosted hair matted and plastered to his face and neck. His silk shirt hung off one shoulder, the armpits and chest soaked. The open neckline, rather than being sensual, showed the rapid rise and fall of his chest, emphasizing something being wrong with him. The crystal he'd produced was missing. He wiped perspiration from his forehead with a gloved hand, his eyes shifting from blue, to green, to bronze at a dizzying speed. He attempted to speak, but it came out as a papery croak.
He was….almost human.
And that scared her.
"You and I were only ever friends in your youth, Sarah." He cleared his throat, his voice regaining some of its normal cadence. "Our interactions then were innocent, as befitting one new to the world."
Boiling anger helped her recover from the dizzying experience and the shock of Jareth's unkempt state. Despite her weakened limbs, she seized a fistful of his shirt and yanked him roughly to her. "You damn well know what I'm referring to! Those later dreams!"
"Ah, you mean the visions you entertained after your first boyfriend and up until recently."
"You ass! Those were private!" She shook him for emphasis, hiding her mortification by doing her damnedest to turn him into a living bobblehead. "You had no right to...to be there!"
"But you were crying, Sarah." A flash of grief and guilt crossed his face. "You were so sad. Always. I couldn't stand it."
"I just thought they were horny wet dreams! For God's sake, what else could I think they were?!" She rattled him again, his teeth clacking together.
He grabbed her wrist to still any further motion. "All that transpired was consensual and—I daresay—wonderful."
"That's not fair! None of it is, and you know it!" She planted her hands on his chest and shoved him away from her, her cheeks flaming.
Jareth tumbled momentarily onto the floor, looking like a pretty ragdoll thrown carelessly aside. His expression was one of incredulity, as if he couldn't believe where he'd ended up and not been able to avoid it. Then he angled carefully up into a seated position, his knees crossed and breeches pulled taut across his hips. The gray pallor of his skin had spread across his face and down into his neck. "I wanted—needed—to be close to you, even if only in a fleeting dream."
Her lip curled in disgust. "You have a fucked up way of showing you love someone."
He put a weary hand over his eyes, shielding them from her, and Sarah couldn't help noticing his haggard appearance. "At least you no longer deny it is love that I feel," he quipped, a drained sort of smugness in his voice. "A part of you always recognized me from the beginning. Deny it as much as you like."
Sarah used the bed to pull herself up onto her feet, her legs wobbling. "You're a self-centered prick."
"Such flattery." His hand dropped to his lap, and he flinched, his face screwing up in a pained expression.
Sarah huffed, at a loss for words, and threw her hands up in exasperation. Something peculiar on her right one caught her eye. Scowling down at the back of her hand, she scrutinized the appendage. Three tiny four-pointed stars were tattooed across the flesh there in beautiful fine lines. They were easy to miss, more like moles or freckles. Much like Jareth's stained glass windows, their colors changed repeatedly, holographic in nature. They glinted azure and silver, citrine and crimson. They seemed more like reflective dragon scales than ink.
She picked determinedly at the stars with a nail, growling when they wouldn't come off and she scratched herself. "What the hell are these?"
Jareth closed his eyes and grit his teeth, fending off another wave of what was clearly discomfort. "An extraordinary gift for an extraordinary woman," he murmured.
Realization struck like a car slamming into her, answered by anger singing through her veins once more. "You cheater! I didn't actually agree to your side deal!"
"Your acceptance was implied when you partook of the sample of my power that I supplied." Despite how he grappled with pain, the corner of his mouth still curved up in triumph.
"You...You—" She crackled with wrath, her hair feeling almost like it stood up with the force of it.
"As much as I disagree with your choice, I'm willing to grant that reckless second wish in exchange for this measure of protection." His lashes lifted, the tips catching the candlelight, and he turned the full force of his gem-like eyes on her, their depths mesmerizing. "Those stars represent three chances you have to call upon my power. When and how you use them is at your discretion. May their light guide your way through the Labyrinth and bring you aid in the darkness."
"""""
To Be Continued