"When Words Get In The Way"
Part Four of the 'Words' Saga

**

Part 4
"I don't want to achieve immortality through my work. I want to achieve immortality through not dying."


"It's fairly early," Jareth asked. "Wouldn't you rather wait for the sun to set?"

"No," she answered with false brightness. "I don't imagine I'll be sleeping much tonight anyway."

"Then why go to bed?"

"Well, since I'm not exactly up to anything else, why don't I just lie there and ponder?"

"Don't fret," he told her sternly. "I command you not to fret. You'll make yourself sick."

"As you command, oh mighty one," she snapped sarcastically, and immediately draped herself across the bed, closing her eyes firmly and folding her hands across her stomach in a business-like way. Jareth smiled slightly. Stubborn woman.

It was silent in the room for a few minutes. Jareth leaned against the window frame and absently conjured a crystal. He tossed it lightly from hand to hand as he watched the sun sinking closer to the horizon.

"Tell me about your family," Sarah murmured suddenly, rolling to her side to look at his silhouette against the gold sky. The crystal froze for a brief moment, and then resumed it's lazy path across his fingertips.

"As most of the fae are related," he said in a detached sort of way, "I'm sure you'd find the story too long to tell."

"Well, don't fill me in on every great-aunt twice removed," she said irritably. "Tell me the highlights. More specifically, tell me about the ones who are coming *here*."

"Titania will come," he said slowly, and she sat up.

"Titania. You know, it's funny, I always thought...I thought Shakespeare made her up."

He turned and smirked at her. "And when did your Aboveground assumptions help you down here?"

She snorted and lay back down. "Who else?"

"Her son - her legitimate son - "Jareth ignored the small giggle from the bed. "Prince Ryo. Known as the Fire Lord; special affinity for fire," he added, sensing her question before she could ask it. "And I believe my grand-aunt, Lady Danielle, will accompany them."

"Is that all?"

"Perhaps."

"That's comforting."

"I am a comfortable man?"

Again, she snorted, and rolled over, facing away from him this time. There was another long silence, and Jareth thought she was starting to drift into sleep. He was just about to quietly disappear (literally) and reappear down in the throne room (which would likely give his sleeping goblin sentries a nasty awakening, he thought with relish) when she sat up again.

"Jareth, I thought of something tonight."

He tossed the crystal into the air (where it obediently vanished) and strode to the bed, headed for the door. As he passed her, he threw her an affectionate smirk. "Did you lie down until it passed?"

Sarah was not amused. "Jareth!"

He chuckled. "A simple question, my lady. No need to be cross."

"If you're going to be an ass," she warned, glaring at him.

"No intention of it," he cut her off. "I'm on my best behavior." He paused by the door and bowed slightly. "Please, continue."

"As I was saying," she gave it one last glare for good measure, then allowed her face to relax. "I meant to ask you before, but what with the prophecy and everything...anyway, I was walking through the archways and I noticed ... well ... a mirror. And I just happened to glance into it," she rushed on hastily before he could make some remark about vanity. "I thought that maybe...I wondered if...well..."

He raised an eyebrow as she faltered and looked away. "A speechless Sarah?" he murmured. And then, more seriously, "Is something wrong?"

Nothing to get scared about, she thought bracingly, but the words came out in a breathless rush anyway. "Jareth, does being in the Labyrinth affect the way I age?"

The second eyebrow joined the first, ascending almost to the King's hair, and then both abruptly dropped into a grim frown. Sarah stared stoically at the floor, suddenly inexplicably nervous. And a little frightened. Sensing her distress, Jareth stepped closer and pulled her into the comforting warmth of his arms, resting his chin on her head and looking blankly out the window.

"No."

His voice was gentle, but Sarah flinched nonetheless. "So," her voice broke slightly, she paused and forced herself to get control. "So," she tried again, managing to sound somewhat calm. "In a couple of decades, I'll die, and that will be that?"

His silence was all the answer she needed.

"Were you going to tell me?"

"Yes."

"When?"

Again, no answer. Sarah squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them again. "What about the baby?"

"The child is born of the Fae, in a Fae land unmarked by mortal time. The child will live as any Fae would."

"Oh." Sarah took a deep breath and nodded reasonably. "Well, as long as you and the baby are all right, I guess it's okay." *Will I be as accepting when I start to grow old?* Sarah had a sudden horrible vision of herself as a wrinkled, gray creature, living in a hovel somewhere far from the Labyrinth and it's King, both of whom she loved more than her own life. Her mind swam with equally horrid pictures of Jareth's eternally youthful face looking at her ancient one with anguish in those unfathomable eyes. *I'd rather leave* she thought fiercely, tears coming to her eyes even so. *I'd rather leave it all behind than put either of us through that - watching me die while he lives untouched.*

"No, it is not 'okay'." Jareth's growl startled her back into the present, and she pushed back the mental images and looked up at him. His eyes were narrowed fiercely, he was looking at her....no, *through* her. Like she was transparent. Then he snapped back into his own body again, and offered her a false smile. "Don't worry about it for now, Sarah. Just relax. You have enough things to fuss about."

"Yeah, like the baby, the stupid prophecy, your family, my family...on second thought, I think I just won't think about my family for awhile. That's a stress I'll save for another day. Right now I'm going to worry about getting ready for your family." She paused, frowning, and Jareth watched in mild amusement as she began mentally ticking off all the things she planned to do to the castle before their guests arrived. He could hear her thoughts now.

*The throne room will definitely need a good going over, it's still a mess from the battle with Erlar; and the City can certainly stand to have a few street sweeper gangs, I'll talk to Hetta about it, Rilum would love to head one himself, and oh! While I'm at it, I'll get those hedge maze guards to trim the hedges, do something useful with those snipper thingies, for once....*

Jareth, personally, took this as a good moment to depart. And he did so, heading for his study and leaving Sarah to her agitated preparations. Most of them, he was sure, would be totally unnecessary, but that was women for you. And in the meantime, it would keep her mind off the problem she had brought up...one he had hoped never to have to deal with.

*Don't be thick* he thought derisively. *You knew it would come sooner or later.* It had just happened to be sooner. So now what was he going to do about it? The thought of losing his wife after only a few precious years tore at his once cold heart. True, she could be a royal headache at times, especially with this pregnancy (although it was possible that was only an excuse to be willful and sarcastic - the most delightful thing about Sarah was her volatility) but the truth was Jareth held her as the most valuable thing in the Labyrinth. In his life.

And soon he would lose her.

The idea was not to be borne.

"There is a way!" He slammed a gloved fist on the polished top of his desk, upsetting a few papers and quills. He ignored them, striding to the fireplace, and sure enough, a few minutes later a goblin peeked in the door, saw Jareth's back turned, and scurried to the mess on the floor. Swiftly, the papers and quills were returned to their usual neat spots on the desk, and the door only slammed slightly as the goblin scrambled back out.

Jareth stood gazing into the snapping flames long into the night.

**