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Title: Eternity's End

Author: Lady Silma

Rating: PG-13

A/N- Thanks to my beta, Davan. You are a jewel.

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Eternity's End

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            She could almost believe that it truly had been forever.

            Thinking back, trying her best to separate single moments from the impenetrable haze that had settled over her past experiences after centuries of living, she tried hard to remember.

            Was there really a time when she had not been the Goblin Queen or belonged to the Underground? Such thoughts seemed nearly ridiculous to her. Yet she knew them to be true. Though even then, she suspected that she had always belonged to him and his world, even when she was blissfully unaware of its existence.

            The obscuring haze of her past memories parted for an instant, granting her a glimpse of a young girl. She looked to be barely an adult, yet not quite a child with dark locks that hung in an auburn curtain around a strange, willowy top and vest. Long legs were clad in a bizarre pair of blue pants that even her husband, with all his audacious tendencies in clothing choice, would never think to wear. It was her green eyes, brilliant as emeralds, which clearly identified the young girl.

            Her?

            Had that really been her all those years ago? She was so small then, frail looking almost. Yet an inner fire burned in her eyes even at that age that had not dwindled with the passage of years. There was already a confidence there in the way she stood, a burgeoning queen even then.

            Of course, he had seen and known it, even when she had not.

            Not that she had had time to think of such things when she had only been given thirteen hours to solve the impossible Labyrinth.

            Oh, she had put on a brave front, spouting off all her naive ideals of fairness, but in reality she had been frightened. She had been scared that she wouldn't get her brother back in time, though it had been him that terrified her the most. All her illusions of control would slip through her grasping hands, as easily as the right path through the Labyrinth had seemed to evade her, when he would show up, all enveloped in powerful magic and fragile promises.

            A strange mix of loathing and fascination had warred within her merely at the sight of him. She had hated him for his cool control and the delicious power that he was always able to maintain. She had hated him for it because it was what she had found so captivating about him.

            She blinked, and the image of her younger self receded back behind the curtain of fog where her other memories resided from a time that felt like eons ago.

            How different she seemed to be now from that young girl who obstinately faced down the Goblin King and his Labyrinth to save her baby brother.

            Well, perhaps not completely different, she conceded, knowing that she was still as stubborn and strong willed as she had always been. But there were changes, nonetheless. She was a queen now, had been for so long that her legend had become the stuff of bedtime stories in the Underground. If she wished to prove such a seemingly narcissistic thought to anyone who might protest, all she had to do was visit her husband's library and pluck one of the well-worn tomes off the shelf that had been devoted to recounting the part that she had played in the Underground's history. Flip open to one of the pages, and there her name was, emblazoned in black ink for future generations to read about.

            He, her husband, had not let her slip through his fingers so easily after she had won her brother back from a fate as a goblin babe. No, he had come back for her after she had returned to her home and had had time to grow and mature.

            And what growing she had done in his absence. Fantasies had been replaced with the reality of the world around her, though that was not to say that she ever gave up all her childhood fancies. She had still loved to read all her beloved fairy tales, still dreamed of a life that was something more than the tedious struggles of day to day life.

            However, dreams did not feed her, give her a roof over her head, or clothes to wear. So she had made compromises. The stuffed animals had been packed away, and a typewriter with a scattering of grammar books and red pens had taken their place. All the fanciful figurines of her youth had been packed lovingly into boxes and placed in her closet.

            Only two of her things had she been unwilling to pack away into darkness. They had stood prominent on the little table in her living room. A figure of a girl with dark hair and a whimsical dress that would make any princess green with envy stood next to an even taller figure of man who was obviously of another world, somewhere where dreams abounded and anything was possible.

            It had been a stormy night when he had returned for her. She had been in a fit of melancholy for several weeks before then, having just turned twenty-five and realizing that her life was distasteful and dull. She lived alone in a cramped apartment, complete with a leaky sink and creaking floors. Her job, while paying her a fairly decent salary, was mind numbingly monotonous, and besides a few close friends and her family, she rarely met or spoke with anyone new. There was no love interest in her life. All the men she had ever come into contact with failed to spark her attention. They were not vibrant enough for her. They were too predictable.

            And perhaps that was why when she had slipped between the flannel covers of her bed that stormy night, she had whispered his name for the first time in nearly ten years.             His entrance had been just as dramatic as it had been the first time he had appeared before her and she had laid eyes on him. With a flash of white light that had streaked across the sky, illuminating the dark recesses of her bedroom, her window had crashed open, and in a shower of glitter and magic he had appeared at the foot of her bed. He was dressed to impress, with characteristic grey breeches tucked into high boots crafted of supple leather that hugged his calves to perfection. A white, ruffled poet's shirt was opened to reveal the odd pendant resting against his chest, and a high collared cloak of deep midnight blue, dusted with the glitter he was so fond of, was billowing about him in the wind, reminding Sarah just whom it was that now stood in her bedroom.

            It was those mismatched eyes that she remembered so well, however. They had fixed her unmoving to her bed in awed silence. He was just as regal and mysterious as he had been when she had defeated his Labyrinth. A pink blush had tinged her cheeks, much to her dismay, as she looked questioningly up at him.

            A leather encased hand was extended to her in response, and she eyed it closely, breath hitching quietly in her throat. One of his winged brows arched high over his hazel eye as he waited silently, almost uninterested to see what she would do. She had the sneaking suspicion that somehow, he all ready knew her answer, which accounted for the amusement that radiated from his stance.

            He knew.

            She knew.

            And so she swallowed her pride, pushing the fuzzy bed sheets off of her, and planting her bare feet on the carpet as she rose and noiselessly placed her hand in his. The warmth that had engulfed her hand as he curled his fingers possessively around her was all that she had needed to know that her decision had been the correct one.

            Thus, she had returned to a land and time which was not her own, but where she had longed to be even before she had ever set foot or laid eyes on the place that she now called her home.

            'Sarah.'

            His voice sent her eyelids to blinking again and she tried to force her lips to mold into a smile as she dropped her gaze down to her husband.

            His head was cradled gently in her lap, wisps of his blond hair looking like silver shots of moonlight against the deep red of her dress.

            Red from his life blood.

            His blood! Her beloved husband's life was being soaked up greedily by the white fabric of her dress as if it had been created to do just that.

            She viciously bit down on the inside of her cheek, the pain providing a needed distraction from the tears that were unquestionably stealing their way closer to release despite her stubborn resolve not to cry in front of him.  He was her friend. Her lover. Husband and father of her children. He was invincible, always had been. He was the Goblin King, remote and untouchable.

            It simply was not fair!

            'Surely there is something that can be done,' she bit out forcefully. She glanced up, as if expecting salvation to be standing before her, but all that her eyes lighted on was the crumpled body of the man who had done this to her husband, lying in his own pool of blood. Sarah's eyes narrowed, and she briefly wondered if the swift loss of the man's life was indeed a just punishment for what he was now robbing the entire Underground of.         'Ah, my precious Sarah,' Jareth countered, his voice filled with amusement even in the face of death. Her eyes traveled back to his, her brow furrowed deep in thought. 'Must you be stubborn to the very end, my love?'

            But truth be told, that was what he had always loved so much about her. Few mortals, or even those that resided in the Underground, had ever lived from day to day with the same passion that she did. She was stubborn, she was willful, and oh what a total and complete fall had been his when she had stood before him and demanded her brother back, commanding equality from him even if she was not his equal. Such impudence would have normally earned any being a swift passage to the Bog or some desolate oubliette, but not her.

            Oh no. Not his Sarah. She had only proved by doing something so audacious that she truly did belong in the Underground, at his side.

            He could remember ever detail of their life together with crystal clarity. Each moment, every whisper or caress to the tiniest glance she cast his way, he could recall.

            Some would have called such devotion on his part an obsession, a weakness. Yet he was the Goblin King, and she was his Sarah. He had given her his word and when she had become his queen, he had made sure that he had lived up to each and every one of her expectations. She could be an exhausting task master at times, but is had been worth it in the end.

            She had given him three beautiful children, along with her love, fear, and obedience. He could have asked nothing more of her. It was all he had ever wanted, from the very beginning.

            There was never the concern that she would not adapt well to her new life, but for a time, he had worried that she might regret her decision to return with him. That fear soon dissipated, as swift as his goblins could turn a spotless room into a disaster, as she took well to her new life, assuming her responsibilities as Goblin Queen with such ease that even his eyebrows had raised.

            Their wedding had been highly amusing. He always delighted in reminding her of the day, watching the pretty scowl steal across her face in remembrance. She had not been as entertained by the mishaps of the day as he was.

            Of course, being his Sarah, she had demanded a mortal fairy tale wedding that would surpass even the most elaborate and fantastic of dreams.

            And he, having willingly reduced himself to becoming her slave, had indulged her every whim and fancy. There had been flowers and candles, music, gifts, and a dress that made her look every inch a queenly bride.

            Everything she had wished, he had granted.

            Even up to the difficult task of bestowing immortality upon her, but even that he had managed through their union.

            He could not decide whether it was highly comical or merely extremely pitiful when the Underground creatures had managed to put their own 'additions' into the decorations for the day. Flowers had been divested of their silky petals by overzealous goblins who then found the remaining flower heads and stems to be a delicious treat. Fieries had decided that the wedding cake would look much better devoid of a few layers, and the remaining cake was rearranged in a creative mess that only the fieries were capable of making. Chickens had begun to roost comfortably atop the tall candleholders, the junk people had gotten their hands on the wedding gifts which rapidly disappeared, and a small group of fairies had somehow flown through a window left open to begin biting the remaining guests that had yet to wreak havoc on any of the preparations that were still left intact.

            Sarah had come storming into the room, only half ready for the ceremony, and turned such an angry shade of red that the goblins who had enough sense in them quickly vacated the area, and those that remained quickly became subject to the temper of their soon-to-be Queen. Jareth had decided it time to intervene before the fieries' heads began to be thrown out the window by his angry bride who had a dangerous glint in her eyes as they settled upon the forest creatures.

            With a simple flick of his wrist, there was a shower of glitter settling over the disaster and returning everything to its former pristine state. It had taken several more minutes to calm Sarah down, however, and it was only when he assured her that the troublemakers would now be observing the wedding from the windows of the upper room, where they could cause no more havoc, that she had let him guide her back to her room to finish dressing for the rapidly approaching ceremony.

             They had been married soon after, she was happy, and Jareth was satisfied.

            A century passed and she became heavy with their first child. Jareth wondered towards the end if a child was even worth the consequences of having to endure Sarah's volatile moods and odd cravings in the middle of the night. But nine months later a healthy baby boy was born, with his father's mismatched eyes and his mother's dark hair, and both parents new that it had all been worth it.

            Two more children swiftly followed the first, a daughter and then another son. Their children were the pride of Jareth and Sarah's life. He doted upon them to no end and she made sure that she was everything to them that her own mother had not been.

            All had seemed well. Centuries passed peacefully, and none in the Labyrinth were aware of the imminent attack until it was all ready far too late. His one failing, he supposed, was that he had never mentioned such a possibility to Sarah. She had lived beside him this whole time, blissfully unaware that there were any true dangerous that might threaten the happiness of their life.

            It was too late for regrets now though, he supposed. All ready he could feel himself growing weaker than he had been since childhood from the loss of blood. It was only a matter of time and it would all be over.

            Sarah's cool fingers slid along his forehead, brushing away stray hair from his face as she watched him closely. 'There is nothing then?' she questioned feebly, her spirit seeming to break for a moment in understanding of her helplessness. 'Nothing at all that can be done?'

            He shook his head slowly, even that small action sending pain rippling through him in waves that clouded his eyes with hurt.

            Sighing heavily, she gingerly shifted to make him as comfortable as possible, her eyes roaming over his familiar features.

            She had not known that the Labyrinth had any other enemies than the foolish mortals that sometimes wished unwanted children away. He had not told her and she had not thought to ask such a thing. To her, he had always been unconquerable, immune to any and all threats.

            After all, who would defy the Goblin King? Granted, she had done so when it was her brother who was at stake, but it had never before occurred to her that her husband's power was a thing envied by beings from other lands.

            The attack had been sudden and methodically planned, and with the gift of magic on his side, the unlooked for enemy had easily made his way to the throne room and to Jareth. Most everything else, the creatures in the Labyrinth and the goblin city had gone untouched. No need to destroy them when all that was needed was to defeat the Goblin King, and thereby win his kingdom. What the enemy had not counted on was Jareth's obstinacy. He may have been dying, already wounded by the servants of the enemy, but he certainly would not let that stand in the way of defeating his opponent.

            Sarah had rushed to the throne room as soon as she had sensed something amiss, but it had been too late. While the adversary had already been killed, effectively taken care of by Jareth, her husband had spent too much of his energy in protecting his family and kingdom.

            And now nothing could be done, and she would not suffer him to be taken from her arms for even the time it would take to move him to their bed.

            'But you promised me forever,' she protested, a stubborn tear spilling from her lids to blaze a wet trail down her cheek. Surely he would keep his promise to her. He simply had to! That was what he did.

            He offered up a smile to her in return, twisted around the corners by the pain that was slowly ebbing away to leave him feeling numb; cold.

            'Forever,' he echoed. 'It's not long at all.'