Alrighty! Here's the next chapter, and I hope everyone likes it. I want to thank everyone sooo very much for reviewing. And I want to put in a special thanks to my best friend, Missy Greene, who always listens patiently, even when I ramble, and for letting me know if I'm on to a good idea, and for being the best editor ever! So, tell me what you think, this chapter is a bit dramatic…but I think I pulled it off…well, here's to hoping! Cheers!

Chapter 14

As soon as he materialized into his study a crystal was formed and thrown against the stone wall. It broke and shattered, but that was not enough to soothe him. He threw another, and another, and when that was not enough he glanced around the room. A wooden chair was the next to feel his fury. He brought it over his head and smashed it down against his desk. The chair splintered, pieces of wood flew into his face, but he was blind to it all. His eyes were blazing; he grabbed a broken leg off the chair and began smashing his desk. Papers flew up into the air, candles bounced to the floor, and his rage was leaving him rather exhausted, but he continued a few minutes more before letting the beaten leg fall from his fingers.

Slowly, he regained control. The fire in his eyes dulled, and he pulled his hands together, fingers tapping his lips. He was not proud of the mess he had created, and he closed his eyes slightly. Better inanimate objects than goblins, for had he released his anger on them he doubted he would have any subjects left to govern. A sigh escaped his lips. Not like he was going to have any subjects left anyway. The freezing weather had his goblins holed up in their small, drafty homes, or in the bottom levels of the castle, but what about the stubborn fools who did not ask for help? He had a sinking feeling that many of his subjects were literally going to freeze to death from exposure. He was just as concerned for the ones below him in the Goblin City. What about their food…the crops depended on sunlight, on heat; not on this endless cloudy sky and subzero temperatures.

And then there was Sarah. Whatever had possessed him to agree to her? Oh, he knew, he knew that the mortal girl always had a hold over him, for he felt he owed her so much. It might even be deeper than that, but at the moment, he really did not want to dwell. He looked over the study, searching for a place to sit, for he was suddenly very tired. A smirk graced his features as he realized he had destroyed his only chair. Figures.

His head spun, and he tried to concentrate as he leaned against a wall; small shards of crystal crunching under his leather heels. How was he going to rid himself of this curse? He had no means of investigating ways to remove curses; the easiest way was merely to vanquish it, in this case; slay the host. He had tried once to keep a library in the castle, but that proved unsuccessful for the goblins liked paper…well, liked to eat paper was more accurate.

The soft hues of morning filtered into the study and Jareth glanced at the sky. The once brilliant red was subdued and covered by thick patches of clouds, but at least it had stopped snowing. The labyrinth was covered with snow and ice, the air was frigid, but it had stopped snowing. His eyes felt very heavy. He had spent the entire previous day searching Aboveground for the curse, and it had been the middle of night when Sarah had called him. A day of searching left his body feeling exhausted, his head buzzed and his body ached, and in a blink he transported himself into his personal chambers and collapsed onto the mighty sized bed; clothes and shoes still present.

In what seemed a matter of minutes, Jareth was dreaming again. There was a comforting presence around him; familiar, yet unidentified. He saw himself, a young boy, maybe four, sitting happily on the lap of a person he could not see clearly. All that interested his younger self was a shiny pendant that hung on the grown man's chest. His tiny hands tugged it and twisted it and he admired the pattern so very much.

"Young Jareth," a man's voice said softly in his ear, but he did not look away from the pendant; instead, he pressed his head against the man's chest, "Are you paying attention, Jareth?" Jareth just nodded and smiled as he felt the man sigh. Two large, but gentle hands forced him to sit forward, facing a table with stacks of books. It was only then that the youth bothered looking at his surroundings.

He was sitting in a room lined with books, scrolls, and large tables in the middle of the room. The area was pristine, clean, and nearly every inch sparkled, but what was truly remarkable was the way the white reflected a rainbow of colors as the light from the windows caught the surface. In front of him lay a beautiful manuscript with the simple words "Prophicae" written in bold calligraphy. That was what the man had been trying to show him, he remembered now. He reached his hands for the paper eager to please, when suddenly he was jerked back and away from the man's lap. Confusion swept over him; he looked longingly to the man as he was lifted into another's embrace. He relaxed and smiled as he heard a woman's familiar voice, but she was harsh, and cold, and this woman sounded nothing like his mother as he heard her say, "Stay away from Jareth." But he knew it was his mother that had spoken, and he tightly squeezed her neck as she stormed out of the room with him in tow.

Jareth's mind reeled back into reality slowly and he pushed himself up on his hands; leaning back lazily. The ticking of the clock forced him to focus and he shook his head as he saw the hands pointing to noon. One of his hands shot out from behind him; automatically feeling for the heavy pendant around his neck. The dream was beginning to fade; already he was having trouble recalling what he had seen, what he had heard, but the feeling of peace stayed with him, as did the image of that massive library. Only one place had walls that shimmered in sunlight, and it was a place he knew all too well. He had been tried and sentenced twice within the confines of those walls, for those were the walls of the Palace Mayair.

Far, in the depths of the Underground, in a beautiful land of seas and meadows, forests and mountains, lay the Palace of Mayair. For thousands of years upon thousands of years the Palace housed the governing bodies of the Underground society. The council members lived in quiet homes outside the palace, but within the confines of the walls. The towers of the Palace reached into the sky, glistening in the ever present sun, and at the tallest tower resided the High Councilman Addoyn.

Jareth sucked in his breath as he glanced at the high towers. The bright sun made his eyes water, but he continued his upward gaze a few more minutes before turning his attention to the armed entrances, and to the normal bustle of people coming and going during the midday rush. Some gave him weary glances, for they either remembered him as a boy and feared him, or thought him a stranger, which all the fools feared anyway. He smirked, nothing like returning home to make one feel loved. He opted not to tempt the guards at the entrance, and instead; he followed his memory into the large library.

The room was exactly how he remembered it. The arched windows allowed an exact amount of light into the domed room. All the bookshelves were lined from ceiling to floor with endless tomes of knowledge. It was quite overwhelming. Where does one even start? He reached a table and sat, throwing his legs over the table and leaning back. It was so quiet here, he could hear the commotion down on the streets below, but it seemed so far away. It was quiet, but he was far from alone. He sensed Addoyn's presence before the High Councilman appeared and Jareth allowed a genuine smile.

"I have found the curse," Jareth said to the empty air. The space next to him shimmered and Addoyn appeared, looking tired in his brown robes.

"And yet, I sense it still upon you," he asked questioningly, his blue eyes searching the king's face.

Jareth nodded and rest his head on his hand propped up by his elbow. "It's attached to a child." He divulged waiting for the older man's reaction.

As if in pain, Addoyn squeezed his eyes shut, and reached blindly for a chair. "That woman," he spat, and Jareth smiled sadly.

"That was my reaction as well."

Addoyn shook his head and slowly sat, "Well, if you have found this child, why have you not destroyed it," the look Jareth gave him nearly broke his heart. There was such sadness in the Goblin King's eyes, a sadness that was once defiance, but circumstances were eating away at his fire, and that was not what Addoyn desired. "What is it?" he asked again as Jareth stood and walked towards a window.

"The child is being protected by Sarah," was all he said leaning against the sill. The light cascaded down upon him, highlighted his hair, and brightened his mismatched eyes. At that moment he looked very much like his mother, and Addoyn sighed.

"The same Sarah?" His response was a slow nod from Jareth, who avoided eye contact. Addoyn noticed, "What else?" he asked brusquely.

Jareth lowered his head again. He always felt like a child in Addoyn's presence, always so petulant. "I told her I would find a way to cure the curse without destroying the baby." He waited for Addoyn to yell, and was caught off guard as the older man began to lightly chuckle.

"Well," he said after a few minutes, "that was incredibly stupid of you, now wasn't it?" He laughed again as Jareth glared. "That does explain your presence here, but tell me, Jareth; how did you know of this place? It is not open to the general public."

Jareth shrugged, "I remembered it." He did not notice Addoyn's eyes widen, nor did he notice the man sit straight in his chair.

"Come and sit Jareth, I may be able to help." Jareth had no better plan, so he sat and rested his head against the chair as Addoyn disappeared into the columns and rows of paper knowledge.

"Sarah!" she heard the voice, but ignored it. "SARAH!"

The second yell, seeing as it came from her door, was harder to dismiss and she opened her eyes groggily. There was a moment of disorientation as she felt the hard floor beneath her and a cold wall at her back. She was still in a fetal position, knees tucked under chin, and Sarah had the distinct feeling that she was going to pay for that later. A knock came from her door and she stood stiffly. "I'm up, Carol, I'm up," her door opened and Carol strode in, a happy smile upon her lips, her red hair tied in a bun.

"Good," she smiled again, "I'm going down to check the mail, and Deirdre is asleep in her crib." Sarah's eyes darkened at the mention of the name, but Carol was oblivious. It was at this moment that Carol looked at Sarah's crumpled clothes and sunken eyes. "You look like hell, Sarah, bad night?" Sarah nodded slowly and turned her back on her friend. For a few moments Carol stood transfixed, and rather perplexed by Sarah's odd behavior. The other day she had ran like a bat out of hell into a snow storm, and now she was unresponsive and reclusive. Frowning she took a step forward, "Is everything alright?"

Sarah turned and plastered the most painful and fake smile on her face, "Yeah, everything's great," she said happily. "I just had a rough night. I'm just going to take a bath, and I'll feel better." She wasn't sure if the façade would work on Carol, and she was relieved when Carol nodded and tightly smiled.

"Alright then…well, I'll be back in a few minutes," she turned to leave and called over her back, "Keep an eye out on Deirdre, k?" Sarah grimaced as her friend disappeared down the hall and out of the apartment.

Her neck creaked, her back ached, and her long black hair hung limply against her back. Pushing the child out of her mind, she rummaged through her dresser, picked out an outfit and strolled into the bathroom; excitedly she adjusted the water temp for the bathtub and watched with satisfaction as it was filled with steaming water. When it reached the rim she shut of the faucet, shimmied out of her wrinkled clothes, and sunk blessedly into the water. The heat eased her muscles, and helped to soothe her rather frayed nerves. She scratched her scalp briefly and sighed, scooting down into the water. For a moment, everything was normal, everything was peaceful.

Taking a deep breath, she submerged herself, pulling her blanket of hair under with her. It was so quiet under water, so peaceful, and though sights may be distorted through the rippling waves, she admired the view. Blinking slowly and smiling to herself she began to raise her head out of the water. As she reached the brim of the water though, her head hit a solid surface. Confusion swept over her face and she brought her hands up, feeling the liquid and then feeling the top of the water, hard as ice. Panic threatened to overcome her, her heart began to race, but she calmed herself. She pounded on the surface, but it did not budge. Now, she was panicked and she began shouting, her warbled words drowning in the water. It was not doing her any good, though, for all she accomplished was using her air. She stopped shouting and lay very still trying to think of a plan. But thinking was becoming difficult as the oxygen was depleting in her lungs. She only had a few choices readily available: either stay quiet, wait for the water to return to normal, scream her head off in attempt to attracted attention, or scream a name. Black spots began to dance in front of her eyes, her lungs began to ache, and her heart pounded loudly. The moment of truth had arrived, and she screamed the name, praying that he would not ignore her call.

Addoyn returned to the main lobby, hands full of pamphlets, books, and a manuscript that rested on top of the pile. Unceremoniously, he dropped the stack in front of the lounging Goblin King, who, startled, nearly fell backwards in the chair he was leaning in. Addoyn laughed, "Easy Jareth, it is just me." He watched as Jareth dropped his feet and glanced wearily as Addoyn backed away from the towering papers.

For a moment, Jareth just looked at the books, not moving. At the top of a stack was a familiar looking piece of paper, one that he desired to read, but did not dare to touch. Addoyn sat beside the king and scoffed, "Here an old man does backbreaking labor just to have his work left untouched." He sniffed slightly and Jareth laughed despite himself.

"Sorry, Addoyn," he began as he stood from the chair, "my mind is wondering a bit." He watched the older man nod before he continued his trek towards the research materials. With a bit of trepidation he lifted a hand, struggling to keep it from shaking and reached for the top manuscript. A few inches more and he would have it in his grasp, a few inches more and this haunting piece of literature would be his, but as his hand graced the paper a summon so powerful struck his senses and left him on the floor.

Addoyn stood, causing the chair to topple over, and reached for the sprawled king, pulling him up to his feet. The summon was powerful and the energy was raw. The scream had shattered into the realm, and if it was enough for him to feel, he could only imagine the backlash of energy Jareth was experiencing. But now was not the time to recuperate; whoever had yelled for help was desperate, and he shook Jareth roughly in attempt to bring the king around. The king's eyes began to focus and Addoyn shook him softly once more before allowing the king to regain his own balance.

Jareth's eyes narrowed and still a little overwhelmed he disappeared from the room, knowing where he was going, and quite dreadful of what he was to find.

He arrived outside a bathroom, and it was eerily quiet. For someone who had screamed his name in such agonizing urgency, she was being very quiet. Movements from the bathroom caught his eye, and furrowing his brows he stepped towards the room, panic ensuing as he saw Sarah's form struggling in the bathtub. Instantly, he attempted to enter the bathroom, but he was propelled away from the door; a barrier blocking his entrance. He ground his teeth together and attempted again; this time he was thrown off the barrier and onto the ground. The thrashing in the water was lessoning and Jareth pounded the floor with a fist. A laugh shocked him, and he spun to see a small child floating slowly down the hall.

Deirdre laughed again, "Hello Jareth," the voice occupied several octaves at the same time, but never truly stayed stationary. Jareth swallowed and stood from the floor, not daring to face the babe lying down. To his utter horror, she laughed again and began transforming before his eyes. Her baby hands and feet stretched, her small arms and legs expanded, the black hair snaked from her scalp and dropped to the ground and the baby was no longer a baby, but a youth staring at the Goblin King with swirling, black, obsidian eyes.

But Jareth was never one to be intimidated. "Let her be, Deirdre." He growled.

The child just smirked, "Oh, but it's much more fun this way, isn't it?"

"She doesn't mean anything to you, Deirdre?" Jareth spat his words out like venom. "Without her, no one will be here to defend you."

"Don't flatter yourself, Goblin King," was the child's response as she floated to look into the bathroom. A look of complete satisfaction crossed her features as she saw the struggle in the water. "Killing Sarah is not for my benefit, but for yours."

Jareth did not care to have this demonic child elaborate; all he saw was the movement in the bathtub slowing down as Sarah lost her struggle. "Release the barriers, Deirdre," he threatened as he took a step towards her.

Her laugh sent chills down his spine, but she stayed where she was, "You are in no position to make demands of me, Goblin King."

He could feel Sarah slipping away and he grew angry. His eyes flashed and purple lightning streaked across the sky and throughout the hallway. Deirdre was startled and she backed against the wall. That show of power was unexpected, and it unnerved the being slightly. The Goblin King was quite powerful if he was able to instill fear in her. "Deirdre, if you do not…" his threat was ended prematurely as the front door swung open, and a woman's cheery voice called into the apartment. "Sarah! I'm back!"

Both Deirdre and Jareth watched each other intently, waiting for the other to retreat first. As the woman rounded the corner, Deirdre dropped to the floor briefly before vanishing and at the same moment the barriers were dropped and Jareth appeared beside the deep porcelain tub, leaning in and gently bringing a very still body out of the warm water. Her lips were blue, her skin was tinted the same, and he cradled her into his lap.

"Come on, Sarah," he whispered to her as he positioned her limp body over his shoulder. He brought a hand to her back and felt for the stagnant water in her lungs. With a small push from his magic he willed the water forth. Sarah's body lurched forward as a cough wracked her body, but the movement was short lived. As soon as the cough resided, her body resumed its limp posture against his drenched body.

A woman entered the bedroom and screamed, "What in the world? Who the hell are you?" She made as if to grab for Sarah, but Jareth held a hand up and the red-haired woman slid harmlessly to the door.

Jareth closed his eyes and listened for any sign of Sarah. His heightened sense of hearing picked up a faint heartbeat; very slow, nearly stopped, but it was there. "Sarah," he called again and was rewarded with a fluttered heartbeat. He smiled softly, "Come on Sarah." Again he felt for water in her lungs and expunged it with magic. This time a breath was taken and the woman began coughing, her hands grabbing and clutching his shirt tightly. She continued coughing, each breath deeper than the previous while the coughing was getting shallow until she stopped and shivered.

"She…" Sarah gasped. "She was going to kill me!" she spoke into his shoulder.

"I know," Jareth replied turning his face to the woman in the doorway. Her face was pale, her mouth was slack and the woman cringed as a furious eyed man glared at her. "Where is the child?" He asked coldly.

"Deirdre?" Carol asked frightened. When the man nodded she recoiled slightly. His eyes were unnatural: one blue, one brown, and they blazed angrily towards her. She did not want to anger this man and she responded quickly. "Deirdre is asleep…"

Jareth nodded harshly and returned his gaze to the woman in his arms, whose face was still buried in his shirt. Rather suddenly he noticed her naked form, her long black hair allowing splashes of white skin to show. He placed his hands under her knees and lifted them off the ground simultaneously and gracefully grabbing and placing a towel over her figure before blinking out of the room. Carol was left looking very confused around the bathroom.

When they appeared in her room Jareth attempted to lower Sarah to the bed, but she clung to him tighter than his soaked clothes and to his utter dismay she began to cry. "She was going to kill me!" She repeated in between sobs. "And all I could think of…all I could think of…" she broke down and cried. Jareth sighed and wrapped a blanket around Sarah and held her as she wept in his arms.

"Now can I destroy it?" He asked wearily and sighed as he felt her shaking her head in response.

"Stop asking me, because I am seriously reconsidering," she muttered.

"As would I," Jareth responded. Her sobs softened as did her grasp and Jareth lowered her down the rest of the way to her bed. He sighed softly as her green eyes searched his own. A stray piece of hair fell into her face, and he pushed it behind her ear; his hand lingering on her cheek a moment longer than necessary. He was as shocked as she when she brought a small hand up to his and smiled.

"You came," she breathed. Jareth nodded and Sarah coughed again, allowing the last traces of the bath water to drain from her aching lungs. Her body felt so weak, her limbs were numb, her head pounded, and each breath filtering into her lungs felt like liquid fire. Her eyes began to droop, and Jareth smiled softly and stood from her bed, quickly and magically drying his clothes and her bed.

"You should sleep," he said to her as her eyelids slowly shut. He began to turn, when her hand shot out and grabbed him by the arm; restraining him. Horror laced her face, her eyes shook and she squeezed his arm tight.

"You can't leave me," her eyes wondered to her door, "Not with that…thing." Jareth sighed and sat on the bed. "You can't have it both ways, Sarah. You won't allow me to destroy it, and you can't possibly expect me to stay every second with you." She shook her head, and clutched his hand tightly, "I know, I know, and I don't expect anything out of you," she paused, looking down at their hands. "Please, Jareth, just for a while. Just until I fall asleep," she begged. He knew he would, it was a request from Sarah after all, and he was a slave to her. He nodded in defeat and she smiled happily. Damn; that was all he could think as he watched over her. Slowly her eyes closed and her breathing settled into a deep, steady rhythm. She was asleep in just a few seconds, but he lingered there. All thoughts that were not immediately connected with her were erased, all he could focus on were their hands still joined. And truth be told, he did not want to leave her presence anyway.

Ok! So, let us talk about Jareth's mother for a second. When I outlined this story I originally had Addoyn as the protagonist, but as I'm sure you all know, certain characters run away with you, and that is exactly what Jareth's mother has done to me. So, she's now an important factor to the story, and I have worked out the bugs involving her (Thanks Missy!), and so future chapters will better explain her, and her evident loathing of Jareth. Just be patient! Now! Go and review so I can be happy!