Part two.
A week later, on Saturday, she was alone in the house, for the first time in ages. Her father and Karen were having 'quiet time' as Karen called it, a whole weekend to themselves at some snazzy city hotel. Toby had been left with Karen's parents. She had wondered if Sarah shouldn't stay with them as well, but her parents had convinced her that, at over the age of sixteen, Sarah was more than old enough to live on her own over a weekend. Sarah was grateful to the people, although she'd never met them. Quite apart from the issue of independence, it meant she could finally see Jareth again, something that she really wanted to do, there was so much she wanted to ask him. She was sitting in the kitchen before the remains of a sandwich, contemplating her next move, when she heard a noise in her bedroom.
When Sarah went to investigate, the noise turned out to be Hoggle, who had managed to end up in her wardrobe. When she opened the doors, he fell out tangled up in scarves and T-shirts. After being untangled, he sat on Sarah's bed, looking very melancholy.
"What's wrong, Hoggle?"
"Take a guess," he answered gloomily, playing with the plastic bracelet she had given him, never a good sign.
She sat down beside him, looking at her hands. "Jareth's sick."
Hoggle shook his head. "Worse."
"Worse?!"
"He's . . ."
Sarah paled, it could only be one thing. She swallowed hard and whispered, "Dying?"
Hoggle nodded sadly, and sniffed. "Just when he'd gotten so good as well - what are you doing?"
Sarah was stuffing clothing into a bag. She was feeling cold and hot at the same time. When Hoggle had nodded, something in her head had clicked into place, a wall in her mind had vanished. Jareth's story had suddenly become as clear as day: Jareth was in love, and not with just any one he loved her, that's why he had told her the tail. Jareth was dying, that fact made Sarah feel sick, in her panic she forgot what Jareth had said, just thinking that she had to save him some how. But how?
"Is there any cure?" she asked, now on underwear, before suddenly remembering that somebody had to truly love the king to stop the curse.
Hoggle was staring at her. "Why are you . . so upset?" he asked tentatively. There was a look in Sarah's over bright eyes that scared him, it was something Hoggle had never seen there before.
Sarah stopped what she was doing, she dropped onto the bed and burst out crying.
"Somebody who really loves him, and he loves back, heaven knows who that is, has to tell him they love him, and they have to *really* mean it." Hoggle touched her arm gently. "Don't cry. He'll be alright. He's always survived somehow."
Sarah wiped her eyes, she rose from where she lay and with her shoulders set and a determined look on her face, zipped up the bag.
She stopped moving around the room, picking up various bits, like a brush, when Hoggle said offhandedly, "Though he has made the strange request to be moved into the ballroom. We had to put his bed in there and everything. It's strange: ever since that happened, I swear I've heard music in there at night, but when I go in, it's all dark and quiet, and he's asleep, dead to the world -" He winced. "Sorry." Then he stopped, wondering why he was apologising. "Why do you care anyway?!"
Sarah looked at him, tears began to silently run down her cheeks. Her face said everything, she loved him, heaven only knew how but she loved Jareth. Hoggle opened his mouth and closed it again. "Oh," he finally said softly. "We'd better go, then. Do you want to leave a note for your parents?"
"What's the point, I'm not coming back," Sarah said bitterly. She still didn't feel part of her father's new family and hated being treated like Cinderella by Karen, Jareth was the only one to have ever really cared about, her, what she wanted, what her dreams were and Sarah would be damned if she was going to lose him now. Yes, he had made mistakes, but so had she: neither of them was perfect. They would work out there differences some how, despite their stubbornness.
Hoggle did a double take. "You're - you're not?"
Sarah grabbed the book of the Labyrinth off her shelf, three other old favourites, and a picture of her mother from her mirror; after doing this, she placed them in a shoulder bag. "No, I'm not coming back. He needs far more than they ever will, and everything I want is in the Underground."
Hoggle grabbed her arm. "Sarah! Are you crazy? We're talking about moving in with the man you hate - at least that's what he thinks! We're talking about leaving everything you know behind, wishing yourself away so that you won't ever be able to come back. You'll never see any of this again."
"And you think that makes me sad?"
"Doesn't it?" Demanded her friend.
Sarah paused. "I'll leave something for Toby when he's older. And no, it doesn't make me sad to leave this behind for my dreams."
She scribbled a letter down. "Will you make sure that he finds this when he's ready?" she asked Hoggle, holding it out.
He took it, concentrated, and it vanished. "It'll turn up just when he needs it," he replied, smiling.
"How can I get to him?"
"Wish?"
"Oh, right." She wiped more tears away, sniffed and then settled herself. "I wish . . I wish . . I wish the Goblin King would come and take *me* away . . right now."
They both disappeared from the room, in a cloud of swirling glittering silver dust.
A week later, on Saturday, she was alone in the house, for the first time in ages. Her father and Karen were having 'quiet time' as Karen called it, a whole weekend to themselves at some snazzy city hotel. Toby had been left with Karen's parents. She had wondered if Sarah shouldn't stay with them as well, but her parents had convinced her that, at over the age of sixteen, Sarah was more than old enough to live on her own over a weekend. Sarah was grateful to the people, although she'd never met them. Quite apart from the issue of independence, it meant she could finally see Jareth again, something that she really wanted to do, there was so much she wanted to ask him. She was sitting in the kitchen before the remains of a sandwich, contemplating her next move, when she heard a noise in her bedroom.
When Sarah went to investigate, the noise turned out to be Hoggle, who had managed to end up in her wardrobe. When she opened the doors, he fell out tangled up in scarves and T-shirts. After being untangled, he sat on Sarah's bed, looking very melancholy.
"What's wrong, Hoggle?"
"Take a guess," he answered gloomily, playing with the plastic bracelet she had given him, never a good sign.
She sat down beside him, looking at her hands. "Jareth's sick."
Hoggle shook his head. "Worse."
"Worse?!"
"He's . . ."
Sarah paled, it could only be one thing. She swallowed hard and whispered, "Dying?"
Hoggle nodded sadly, and sniffed. "Just when he'd gotten so good as well - what are you doing?"
Sarah was stuffing clothing into a bag. She was feeling cold and hot at the same time. When Hoggle had nodded, something in her head had clicked into place, a wall in her mind had vanished. Jareth's story had suddenly become as clear as day: Jareth was in love, and not with just any one he loved her, that's why he had told her the tail. Jareth was dying, that fact made Sarah feel sick, in her panic she forgot what Jareth had said, just thinking that she had to save him some how. But how?
"Is there any cure?" she asked, now on underwear, before suddenly remembering that somebody had to truly love the king to stop the curse.
Hoggle was staring at her. "Why are you . . so upset?" he asked tentatively. There was a look in Sarah's over bright eyes that scared him, it was something Hoggle had never seen there before.
Sarah stopped what she was doing, she dropped onto the bed and burst out crying.
"Somebody who really loves him, and he loves back, heaven knows who that is, has to tell him they love him, and they have to *really* mean it." Hoggle touched her arm gently. "Don't cry. He'll be alright. He's always survived somehow."
Sarah wiped her eyes, she rose from where she lay and with her shoulders set and a determined look on her face, zipped up the bag.
She stopped moving around the room, picking up various bits, like a brush, when Hoggle said offhandedly, "Though he has made the strange request to be moved into the ballroom. We had to put his bed in there and everything. It's strange: ever since that happened, I swear I've heard music in there at night, but when I go in, it's all dark and quiet, and he's asleep, dead to the world -" He winced. "Sorry." Then he stopped, wondering why he was apologising. "Why do you care anyway?!"
Sarah looked at him, tears began to silently run down her cheeks. Her face said everything, she loved him, heaven only knew how but she loved Jareth. Hoggle opened his mouth and closed it again. "Oh," he finally said softly. "We'd better go, then. Do you want to leave a note for your parents?"
"What's the point, I'm not coming back," Sarah said bitterly. She still didn't feel part of her father's new family and hated being treated like Cinderella by Karen, Jareth was the only one to have ever really cared about, her, what she wanted, what her dreams were and Sarah would be damned if she was going to lose him now. Yes, he had made mistakes, but so had she: neither of them was perfect. They would work out there differences some how, despite their stubbornness.
Hoggle did a double take. "You're - you're not?"
Sarah grabbed the book of the Labyrinth off her shelf, three other old favourites, and a picture of her mother from her mirror; after doing this, she placed them in a shoulder bag. "No, I'm not coming back. He needs far more than they ever will, and everything I want is in the Underground."
Hoggle grabbed her arm. "Sarah! Are you crazy? We're talking about moving in with the man you hate - at least that's what he thinks! We're talking about leaving everything you know behind, wishing yourself away so that you won't ever be able to come back. You'll never see any of this again."
"And you think that makes me sad?"
"Doesn't it?" Demanded her friend.
Sarah paused. "I'll leave something for Toby when he's older. And no, it doesn't make me sad to leave this behind for my dreams."
She scribbled a letter down. "Will you make sure that he finds this when he's ready?" she asked Hoggle, holding it out.
He took it, concentrated, and it vanished. "It'll turn up just when he needs it," he replied, smiling.
"How can I get to him?"
"Wish?"
"Oh, right." She wiped more tears away, sniffed and then settled herself. "I wish . . I wish . . I wish the Goblin King would come and take *me* away . . right now."
They both disappeared from the room, in a cloud of swirling glittering silver dust.