Chapter Fifteen: The World Falls Down

As the day of the party approached, Sarah felt the twisting dread in her guts grow stronger and her nightmares darker and more twisted. Even as her friends tried to distract her from her fears, she couldn't entirely ignore them. All of them were doing their best to help her, including Jareth. But she knew if Marcas recognized her at the party, he would do whatever he could to hurt her, again.

Nothing could really stop him.

Especially since he seemed to hate Jareth. The whole reason he wanted her in the first place was to use her power against the Goblin King. If he ever learned she did have powers, it wouldn't matter that she didn't know that she'd had them, he'd -

She shook that thought away, hard. That aspect of her reality was one that she was still getting used to. That she, Sarah Williams, was someone with powers. Even now, Jareth was teaching her how to use them. As many nights that were spent learning how to dance, he still spent even more time teaching her magic.

As bad as her fears were, as the party approached, the days leading up to it still weren't all bad. She continued spending most of her days working, either with Olivia, Hoggle, or Jareth. She'd mentioned the kiss only once, while she and Olivia were bent over potions, with no Goblins to help. The healer had positively squealed in delight and pulled her into a nearly bone breaking hug that had left her breathless. She didn't dare mention it to anyone else. Jareth, also, hadn't brought it up, and for that she was grateful.

She still didn't want to examine the reasons she'd done it too closely, and if he brought it up, she'd have to.

A few days before the party, she and Olivia were pulled away from work for their fittings and she realized it wasn't just her dress that had been designed with precise intent. The healer's gown was a lovely shade of green satin with embroidery on the corset in gold. The skirt was as full as the one on the gown made for her, and she could see that it pleased the healer as well as Olivia brushed wistful fingers over it.

Now that she had tried her own gown on, she could see that it wasn't just beautiful, either. It flattered her perfectly, as well. It also aligned much more with her taste than the black one Marcas had forced her to wear in the Shadow Kingdom when he -

As usual, that thought caused the fear that lived inside of her to squeeze her heart.

She hated that the mere thought of the place or its king frightened her so badly. She'd been doing everything she could to push those thoughts away, to distract herself, so that she wouldn't think about it so constantly. She despised any reminders. Knowing Marcas would be at this party was a big one. And it sucked some of her enjoyment out of the thought of it.

The problem was, she knew that Jareth was right. There would be no safer time or place to face this particular fear of him, surrounded by her friends. So she kept telling herself that and would continue until she didn't feel like she'd throw up at the first sight of Marcas. A large part of her feared that it was still much too soon.

Nothing and no one had ever frightened her like he did.

Still, the thought of dancing with Jareth, when both of them were dressed in their finest, pushed her as well. It was too strong a desire to ignore. She wanted to heal, to be able to reach for the things she wanted so desperately. Things that presently, she was too afraid to grasp. Maybe if she wasn't so afraid, she could reach for them. She could ask Jareth some of the questions that burned through her hotter and hotter, the longer she stayed here.

Olivia noticed the expressions and asked her about them during the fitting. She astutely refused to discuss them in such a public environment, to which Olivia just laughed in response. However, as a result, the fitting ended with laughter, instead of all the fears and regrets that were building up with each day.

Sometimes, Jareth would look her in the eyes, and the look in his own took her breath away. She wasn't certain what he saw, those times, but it always almost felt like he saw Sarah under the mask. Not her, now. The one she'd been before she'd been hurt. The one she'd been when she faced him five years ago. She was jealous of that girl, and hated that. Olivia seemed to think that meant she was healing, too. Sometimes, she thought Olivia was right. She wanted her to be right.

Then, she'd have a panic attack or a nightmare or hallucination that left her cowering and crying.

How could she be healing if she was still so terrified that she couldn't move? If she was still so afraid of physical affection, that she would pretend that it never happened, even when she initiated it. Worse, those fears were taking on a different flavor, since she'd become aware of her growing attraction towards Jareth.

Her other fears had mixed with her fear of his reaction to the truth, to the reality of who she was underneath the mask.

It was one of those things she was powerless to prevent. As Olivia said, it would happen when it happened. She just hoped that she was strong enough to handle the fall out. She hadn't felt strong enough for that. Maybe it would be better if it was just ripped off like a bandaid.

She shook her thoughts away, lifting her eyes to the mirror she was standing before. A goblin had come along to help with her hair and dress, and bore a box from the Goblin King. The box was still sitting, unopened on the vanity, and now that she was dressed, the goblin had left her alone to finish up. Whatever that meant.

The box beckoned her, and she opened it with nervous fingers, slowly setting the top of the box aside, curious. Moving the paper aside, she gasped in surprise, finding a lovely half-mask resting there. It was silver in color, and undeniably feminine in design. Twisting horns rose from the forehead, with a fierce sort of expression. A more beautiful version of the mask she always wore. A goblin mask for her to wear with the silver gown. There were silver satin ribbons to bind it behind her head, matching the dress.

She lifted her hands, slowly removing the comforting weight of the mask she'd worn for so long, now. Her fingers trembled as she lifted the new one to her face, finding it fit her face well. Better, in fact, than the other mask ever had.

That was mildly unsettling.

Still, she shook that feeling off and tied the mask behind her head, placing a few pins along the edge, to try to ensure that the mask was less likely to fall. She looked at herself in the mirror for a long moment, at the girl wearing the gown and mask he'd given her with her hair coiffed and shoots of silver woven into it. She bit her lower lip, not really recognizing herself, for the way she stood up straight, and looked into her own shadowed eyes. After a moment, she touched her lashes with a little kohl, to darken them, and found a pot of lip paint, applying it with her pinky. It was a pale peachy-pink shade, which was a little unsettling, too.

Looking at herself in the mirror, she felt excited, and terrified. But regardless of how she felt, she was ready.

She'd never considered something like a ballgown being armor, before, but she felt more like herself dressed like this. Like the girl who used to play pretend that she was a princess in the park. She thought, for a moment, that dressed like this, she'd be okay. She wrapped that thought around herself, tight, like it was even more armor, and she picked up the gloves he'd given her for the evening. They were made of the same sort of chiffon as the gown, with beads at the top, sprinkled down like stars falling down her arms.

Closing her arms, she steeled herself, and then opened the door to her room. Outside, she found Olivia and Fenris waiting in the hall for her. Both of them were already in their masks as well. Olivia's was a beautiful autumnal fox mask made of different feathers, sculpted with care. Her hair was twisted into a long, disobedient braid with green woven into it that matched her vibrant gown. Fenris's mask was a white wolf, his shock of white hair blending in with the mask, his dark leather armor almost reminding her of when they first met.

"Well," Fenris said, with a smile curving his lips beneath the mask. "Now I feel underdressed."

Sarah blinked, looking him over. He looked relaxed, in ways he hadn't been in the Shadow Kingdom. It was also recently oiled, and looked like it fit him better, which wasn't something she thought could be possible, because his armor usually fit him like a second skin, anyways. "I may not be the best judge of that, what with this being only my second party since coming to the Underground."

She saw when he noticed that she didn't use his name, and his lips curved further into a smile. He offered his free arm to her, and looked towards his lover. "I almost pity Jareth. For once, I'll be the one with the loveliest ladies present on my arms."

Olivia gave a laugh, and Sarah saw her blood red painted lips curved into a wicked sort of smile. "Good thing we didn't warn him, hmm?"

Warn Jareth of what, she wondered, looking at them in bewilderment as they walked down the corridor towards the ballroom.

The party was apparently in full swing when they reached the doors, the sounds of chatter and music filtering through. She looked at Fenris and Olivia in confusion. "I thought I was on time, I didn't realize we were so late."

"Don't worry your pretty head," Olivia said with a smile. "His Majesty did this intentionally. He's not even here, yet, but he knows the nature of his kind. They need a distraction, or they'll start to question things he doesn't want them to think about, yet. The King will be the last to arrive. Let's go, before we end up with him waiting for us."

So, they entered and Sarah found the scene reminded her of the Crystal Ballroom dream from five years ago. A dream, she had to remind herself, because it had always been a little more like a cherished memory. SHe looked around the room as they moved forward and Sarah found Ludo, Didymus and Hoggle in attendance as well as a mischief of Goblins hiding around the room in dark corners. She doubted the revelers noticed any of them, since they didn't know where to look. It took her a moment after entering the room that the party had stopped when they entered.

People were staring at them and, she suspected, at her. Unsettled, she looked towards her escort, but he just kept his eyes forward, his expression reminding her of when he was at the party in the Shadow Court. Fenris led them towards the back of the room, stopping near the dais to wait for the entrance of the king. She let herself skim the crowd and felt a shiver work up her back when she saw Marcas standing in a corner, surrounded by his own courtiers. She pulled her eyes away from him before he noticed her gaze, and let Fenris guide her to a point further away from him. Olivia and Fenris kept between her and him, their stance protective for how casual it may appear.

Only minutes after their arrival, Jareth arrived and paused in the doorway. Sarah felt her heart skip several beats as he entered the room. His mask was black, and reminded her of both a goblin and an owl. The beak was long and pointed, feathers fanning out over his cheeks, but as the mask went up his face, softness hardened, and it became distorted, ending with horns that extended up from his face. His suit was black with hints of midnight blue in the accents, not a scrap of white on the outfit, shoots of blue and black in his hair.

Something about his demeanor caused a sense of worry in her, but she couldn't put her finger on what it was.

Upon entering, he looked left and right, then walked towards the throne that sat upon the dais. His steps were measured, stride quick for it's unhurried appearance. One thing bothered her, however. Beneath his mask, there was no smile on his face. Her heart twisted, because to her, he looked unhappy.

As he reached the throne, he seemed to notice Fenris and Olivia standing there, but his stride didn't slow. They shifted and she took her skirts, as Olivia did, dipping into a curtsey before looking up at him and offering him a tentative, nervous smile. His steps hesitated, but she didn't think anyone else noticed the break in stride. His eyes drank her in, and they seemed dark behind the mask. Still, a small, answering smile curved his lips before he took his seat.

To her, that was worth it.

. . .oOo.

Damn.

The thought echoed in his head when he saw her behind Fenris and Olivia, decked out in the finery he'd provided for the event. She looked more like a queen or princess to him as she offered that shy curtsey than most of those here who had been born to those titles. She was stunning, the dress embracing her like an old friend, the hint of rouge on her lips peeking from beneath the shining silver mask.

Once he was seated, he tried closing his eyes to block out the image, but that only allowed his imagination to take over. It took some effort to shake off the overwhelming desire to take her into his arms. It was difficult, remembering that there was more at stake, that there was more than just one reason for this particular party.

He could allow himself to indulge in a dance, but not so soon. It was too early, and that would attract not just Marcas's attention, but that of the courts. If that happened before he was ready, this whole affair would fall apart.

Perhaps he should have provided her with a less perfect dress. He'd allowed his heart to pick it, rather than his head. Had he known how difficult it would make things for him, he'd have chosen one with his damned brain. Now he found his eyes drawn to her. Not even just his own eyes, either. Others were visibly drawn to her, like moths to a flame.

As the music started, princes and kings from the other courts claimed her for dances. He did his best to keep his own eyes on Marcas, instead of her, noting that the other man was also keeping a close eye on her. He kept his scrutiny covert, rather than overt, knowing that those who weren't seen were keeping a close watch on him, as well.

It was when he saw the other King moving towards her that he made his own move. A wave of his hand had Fenris and Olivia move to block him. As they moved towards Marcas, he moved towards Sarah, intercepting her before Marcas came close enough for her to realize he was heading in her direction.

"My turn," he said, looking at the young prince who had been turning on the dancefloor with her. The youth had a puppy-eyed expression on his face. Jade green eyes met his and another shy smile curved her lips. He liked that smile. When he looked back at the prince, the youth looked like he intended to refuse, so Jareth leaned in and lowered his voice. "Unless you'd rather the Shadow King cut in, instead?"

The prince turned ghostly pale, and stepped back as if her touch had burned him. Jareth took her hand and gave her an easy turn before guiding her away from Marcas. He kept his eyes up, unable to focus on the dance, because he was trying to steer her clear of the man who was moving towards her.

"What's wrong?"

The words and tone drew his attention back to her and he met her gaze, fighting the urge to smirk. She didn't sound like the frightened woman Marcas had made her. She almost sounded like the girl she'd become in the Labyrinth five years ago. A hero's voice, he thought, searching her eyes, curious.

"Nothing, yet," he said, giving her a crooked smile. That much was true, but a glance at the clock on the wall told him that soon he'd have to throw water on the bag of cats. He met her gaze, again, taking a deep breath. "Do you trust me?"

He watched her eyes change, nerves showing in them for a moment. Nerves, but not fear.

"Yes," she answered, not hesitating for even a moment.

One word, and it eased the worries in his heart completely. He went still, easing a hand over her hair and lifting her chin. "Once the music stops, go to Fenris and Olivia and stay with them. I don't want you caught up in the chaos I'm about to create, here. And I want distance between you and our unpleasant guest."

Her eyes widened, those nerves growing more sharp.

"Will you be safe?" she asked, her voice quiet and small, but still with that edge of a hero's tone in it.

"Nothing can harm me inside the walls of the Labyrinth."

That wasn't entirely true. However, most didn't consider the backlash of attempting to harm him worth the pain they'd manage to inflict. Still, the whitel lie seemed to ease her worries and she nodded, giving him a wobbly sort of smile.

The music stopped and it took him some effort to release her. He gave her a final spin, swallowing hard. Words rose inside of him that he swallowed, rather than giving voice to them. There'd be time for those words, later. For now, he had other business he needed to handle.

. . .oOo.

Sarah looked up at Jareth for a long moment after he released her, then turned to go find Fenris and Olivia as instructed. Instead, she found herself face to face with Marcas, the other man looming over her. Fear ripped through her, out of her control, as he offered her his hand and a mean tempered smile he probably thought was soothing.

She backed away a step, feeling Jareth's warmth at her back. Her hands started trembling, immediately in a way they hadn't since weeks after her initial escape from him.

The smile on Marcas's face became an immediate, hateful glare. "A mortal bitch playing pretend as a princess at a party and you have the audacity to insult a King by refusing me a dance." He paced closer, and she felt Jareth's hands on her shoulders, shifting her. "One you've allowed those of lesser status than I?!"

"That's enough, Marcas," Jareth said, and he stepped between them, his tone mild. She couldn't see his expression, but in her peripheral vision, she saw Hoggle, Didymus, Fenris and several goblins moving to intercept. "The woman is my guest, and she'll receive the same respect afforded any of my guests. That includes the right to refuse."

"Your guest, is she?" Marcas sneered, looking into her eyes. "Of course she is. After all, she's the Champion."

A more complicated fear knifed through her, running like ice in her veins. Whispers went up around her and she looked at Jareth, expecting shock or temper on his face, but found neither. He didn't even turn towards her. Confusion mixed with the already volatile stew of emotions.

"Oh-ho!" Marcas laughed. "She didn't tell you, did she?!"

"I didn't ask," Jareth said, his tone even. "However, since you've so kindly brought it up, allow me to skip the chase and corner my prey."

Sarah backed away from Jareth, her feelings a knotted mess. What was going on, here?

"Marcas, of the Shadow Court. You have violated the edicts set in place by the courts and the law of the Underground, by crossing the veil and kidnapping a mortal. You separated her spirit from her body, and forced her to accompany you into the Underground. These laws were put in place to protect both sides of the veil. I was put in charge of determining who was fit to cross the veil after your meddling a century ago. Your permissions were stripped due to that incident, and yet you flaunted that, causing the deaths of two mortals in the process."

Marcas laughed in disbelief, rage and insanity mixed in. "You mean to jail me? You? Middling King of nothing, with no courts at his disposal?!"

"I mean to strip you of your titles and magic. And publically, so the courts fully understand the ramifications of crossing me and breaking these laws." Jareth paused for a moment. "And so you can't claim that it never happened."

Sarah could only watch on in worry as Marcas's laugh grew darker and more malevolent, feeling a slash of fear as his eyes flicked towards her.

"Well, Jareth, I fear you played your hand too late, this evening." He sneered, leaning towards him. "You see, I already know how this little scene plays out."

With that, Marcas lifted a crystal and crushed it in his hand. He vanished in a puff of acrid smoke and almost as quickly, a hand wrapped around her arm. She was jerked around and found Marcas standing there, now, and she was pulled towards him, against his chest. Fear immediately turned to terror.

NO!

Before she could give voice to that objection, Marcas vanished again, pulling her with him into darkness.

. . .oOo.

As soon as Marcas vanished, he knew he'd overplayed his hand. He should have kept one hand on Sarah, rather than just keeping between them. Dammit to hell. He didn't move for a moment, looking at where Sarah had been standing as Fenris and Olivia met him. People around him were fidgeting, as if uncertain what to do in this situation.

Blast it to hell.

"The castle, and the Labyrinth, are on lockdown effective immediately until I say otherwise," he finally announced. "Anyone who tries to leave until I rescind this lockdown will suffer the consequences."

The others knew that meant he would consider them enemies actively working with Marcas, and would subject them to the same punishment. Outrage erupted, people starting to yell and crowd towards him. Rather than pay them any mind, he grabbed Fenris and Olivia by their arms and teleported all three of them out of the ballroom and into his office.

THe silence was immediate and welcome, but he could feel his worry for Sarah scraping at him, so the quiet brought him no peace. He started pacing, immediately releasing his grip on his friends. "I want the entire castle searched. He couldn't have left the grounds with Sarah, or the Labyrinth would have reacted accordingly to protect one of its own."

Dammit, he should have paid more attention. Marcas must have had those spells prepared in advance. How many more did he have? And how was he traumatising her to get her to give him a way to escape?

He was so tangled in his thoughts that it took him a moment to notice Fenris and Olivia looking at him with some surprise.

"What?!" He snapped, eyes narrow.

"You called her by her name," Fenris said, worry evident in his eyes, as if he was aware that for him to do so displayed the depth of his concerns.

"No, I -" He stopped, shaking his head and disrupting the thoughts. "Now isn't the time to worry about that, Fenris. Call out the guard. Olivia, I want you standing by -"

Outrage in her face, and she stepped towards him in a way that screamed aggression. "I can damn well help -"

JARETH!

The psychic punch of that scream lanced through his heart and made his head ache. He jabbed a finger at Olivia. "DO it."

It was an order from the king to one of his subjects, and from the shock on her face, she knew it. He couldn't afford time for more discussion after that. He vanished on the spot, throwing himself towards where that desperate call came from.

. . .oOo.

Sarah's power had struggled against Marcas's own, as he attempted to teleport them to who knows where. Something else seemed to muck it up as well, and whatever that particular mixture of powers was, it pulled her away from her captor and she was dropped, alone and afraid, in one of the highest towers of the castle. She'd wanted her room, but that clash of magic had sent her here.

No doubt, that would piss off Marcas. She hadn't quite been able to control where she went, even without the extra interference. She just knew that she didn't want to be near him, and she was away from him, now.

She gulped in panicked breaths, trying to remember to not breathe too fast. Jareth had taught her that. IF she breathed too fast, she'd hyperventilate and pass out. She knew she didn't want to pass out, if she did, she'd be vulnerable. It took a moment, but she managed to get control of herself and wrapped her arms tight around her ribs, hugging herself tight.

It wasn't Jareth's fault, she told herself. He'd tried to protect her. He'd put himself between her and the person that frightened her. Marcas had just kept an ace hidden up his sleeve. Like he'd known all along what the true purpose of the party was. A purpose that she hadn't even known.

Part of her was touched that Jareth had tried to bring him to justice. The rest of her was still reeling with confusion. Champion, Marcas had called her, but Jareth hadn't reacted with shock or temper.

Why not?

She wasn't certain how long she'd pondered, letting her thoughts meander, before a hand grabbed her by the neck from behind, nails biting into her flesh. A moment later, she was hurled at the stone wall opposite her. A shocked cry escaped her and she just managed to catch herself and keep from hitting her head. She struggled to turn, finding Marcas standing in the tower with her, his expression enraged.

"So, Champion, you do have power."

She darted away from him as he stalked towards her, just wanting to keep distance between them, her voice silenced by fear. She caught herself on a window ledge, turning to face him again.

"I looked for you, Champion. The entire breadth of my kingdom. I suppose Little Wolf helped you escape after I beat him. And you run here, of all places?" He laughed, a dark, malicious sound. "As if Jareth could upset my plans for you. You're mine, prey. To use and dispose of as I please. However, and as often, as I see fit."

His hand extended towards her, and forces she couldn't see hauled her up and out of the window, dangling her over the ground. The scream she released was in her head, because whatever that force was crushed her throat and kept her from breathing. It was a single name, thought in desperation, the only one she could think of right then.

"That's right, little bitch. Call him. I want him to watch what I do to you."

"Marcas."

Jareth's voice was almost unrecognizable for the depth of rage she heard in it. She saw him, partially obstructed by the window, still in his finery. His clothes looked darker, as if his fury were changing them - changing him. She didn't care. TO her, he was safety, still, and if she didn't reach him, she'd be taken or dead. Neither of which she wanted.

"Ah-ah!" Marcas sneered, wagging a finger. Then he pointed to the window, where she hung in the air. Sarah watched as Jareth turned and looked at her and his expression changed. He froze, his face going pale as ice, eyes wide with emotions she couldn't decipher. "One move and I release the magic holding her and tomorrow you get to scrape your champion off the flagstones in the lower courtyard." He laughed, his voice cold and delighted. "You'll let me go, and I'll release her when I reach the edge of the kingdom.

"You're a liar by nature, Marcas," Jareth snarled, his eyes not leaving hers.

Sarah closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. She could take herself out of the equation. She knew she could. Doing it was risky and she knew it. But it was better than being taken, again. So, she sent one thought into the world, just as she had when Marcas had initially taken her, and then met Jareth's eyes again. His expression changed, fear and temper turning to wonder and nerves, as if he could feel or sense what she was trying to do.

She had a scant moment to give him a smile, then the world around her started to rush up as she fell.

She'd broken the magic that Marcas was using to hold her. She closed her eyes, again, hoping that her power would do what she'd intended, and not leave her splatting against the flagstones beneath her. The fall seemed to slow, like it had in the escher room. And she lifted her eyes to look up at the window as a scream echoed above her.