A/N: Hey, look at that...chapter 13 and Thirteen O'clock..I swear I didn't notice that until right now. Anyway, here ya go, a new chapter with a LOT and I mean a LOT of time jumps, but I think it came out alright.
Chapter 22
Thirteen O'clock
Breaking news: The recent string of blizzards has baffled and frustrated the most talented of meteorologists. There still is no theory as to why these violent storms have appeared, nor are there any ideas of when they might dissipate. The economies are already failing as the strongest storms have been raging for several weeks now. The Third World Countries are creating massive graves daily, for hundreds of children and elderly are being killed by exposure or famine. The winter weather has shortened food reserves and has caught many off guard. The entire aviary is flying south, but the south is faring no better than the north. Along the coast of California and Mexico, hundreds of humpback and blue whales are beaching and dying.
Many of the cities are locked in snow, all the airports, seaports and train depots are permanently closed, and one can only wonder, what will happen now? Has mankind met its match by a storm? God have mercy on us.
Thirteen O'clock
Sarah snuggled deeper into the fur blankets covering her form and she sighed as she fought the urge to wake. It was so peaceful in her slumber, and truth be told she was still tired, but her mind was working too fast to sleep for long. She had managed to push all the insanity away from her in sleep and had enjoyed the calmness of slumber greedily. It was anything but calm in reality, and for a few minutes more she wished to avoid reality, for it had smashed into her with a force so strong she cringed at the thought. A sigh from the other person in the room caught her attention and she lowered the fuzzy covers and glimpsed at the king as he sat at his desk. He looked utterly defeated, his hands were buried in his hair, his head was down, and his back was arched forward, his shoulders slumped. A few hours ago he had been livid, but now, he looked so sad, it mimicked the way she felt. A new sense of guilt washed over her as her mind resurfaced the recent events…
SevenO'clock
The two men had locked gazes and both refrained from moving, or from speaking, and Sarah was aware of them, aware of the battle about to be waged, but she was preoccupied. During this entire disaster there was still one person left unaccounted for: Carol. There was a knot tightening in her stomach and she forced herself to think, "Where's Carol?" she asked weakly.
"What?" Both men asked agitated.
Sarah began to panic and she grabbed a handful of Jareth's shirt, "Where's Carol? I haven't seen her! Where is she?"
Jareth sighed and removed Sarah's hands. He remained silent, but Addoyn spoke, "The red haired one?"
Sarah nodded and a short moment of sympathy flashed through Addoyn's eyes and Sarah cried out, a sob coming from her before she could fight it. "Where is she?" she repeated and Addoyn pointed, very detachedly, to the emptiness beneath the bed. Sarah scrambled to the floor and she spotted strands of red from behind the bed skirt. The knot in her stomach tightened and she began to lift the bed skirt, but strong hands lifted her off the ground and away from the scene, but she fought against it, "Let me go! I have to see, let me go!"
"Sarah," Jareth said softly, "you should not have to see such atrocities." He rubbed her arms and she allowed herself to be comforted for a moment, but then she pushed away and fell back to the ground, pulling the fabrics out of her way to reveal a horror. Under the bed, hidden from view, was the crumpled and bent body of her closest friend. Her stomach was doing flips by now and she did not fight against those arms that pulled her away from the sight. She closed her eyes and pressed her head against his chest, but the picture of her friend, eyes open in shock, still burned in her mind as the world around her faded away.
ThirteenO'clock
She brushed a tear away and brought her knees to her chest as she fought a sob from escaping. Her friend, her friend was dead; and for nothing. Sarah rested her cheek on her knee and stared at the roaring fire and the dancing shadows created from the flames. Guilt; she felt so guilty. If only she had allowed Jareth to destroy the curse when Deirdre was a baby, perhaps none of his would be happening. And Deirdre…Sarah couldn't fight the tears as she thought of that beautiful baby girl…
EightO'clock
They were arguing in earnest now; fighting over a piece of paper that Sarah had yet to see. Nothing felt real, everything was slow and blurred. She watched the goblins scurrying around Addoyn and Jareth as they paced around the throne room, and she heard bits of pieces of their conversation. Mainly pieces when Jareth would yell at his father, accusing him for never telling him the truth, and Addoyn defended his position as best as he could with that small piece of paper, but Sarah could not focus on anything other than a goblin girl with long black hair, blue eyes, and a lighter skin than the rest. This goblin bounced and laughed and played along with the other stupid goblins and Sarah felt the tears streaming down her face.
"Did you have to turn her into a goblin?" Her voice was hoarse, but it rang through the air and both Jareth and Addoyn turned to her, lost looks on their faces. She stood from the steps in a flurry and pointed down to the oblivious goblin chasing a chicken, "Did you HAVE to change her," she screamed and Jareth visibly winced.
With a sigh he rubbed his temples, "I have no control over it, Sarah. The labyrinth does it on its own accord." He was rewarded with a sneer from Sarah and Jareth turned the sneer to Addoyn, "Probably another perk from my mother, right?" he asked bitterly.
Addoyn nodded with a little too much nonchalance and they were yelling again. But Sarah just sat down on the steps to the throne and cried in her hands…
ThirteenO'clock
She was still crying in her hands.
ThirteenO'clock
Jareth heard Sarah wake, but he had no desire to face her right now, and so he kept his head down peering at the stupid "Prohicae" before him. No matter what angle he looked at it, it was still a ridiculous piece of parchment that offered no concise prophecy at all. It was just ramblings of an old man and Jareth shook his head. How could they buy into such a thing? They were smarter than that. Anger flared into his system. A few hours ago when he mentioned a parent it would have just been his mother, for a father was never mention. Oh, he assumed he had had one, but the father was not overly important in the Underground society and his mother had never bothered informing him of who is father was, nor had he really asked. And that bothered him now. Was he too ignorant to ask, or had he always known? Again his eyes drifted to the parchment before him and he wiped it off his desk.
SevenO'clock
He was left standing wordless as he watched 'Temnestra', his cursed mother, disappear from the room, but not before uttering those words. They rang through his ears and shook his body and he looked to Addoyn; who, if possible, was whiter than he. Had Sarah's voice not caught his attention he was sure he would have lost control, but as such he focused on her and asked what she had said. To his utter surprise, she advanced on him and grabbing him by the shirt screamed for the whereabouts of the mortal woman, Carol. Oh, he knew where she was, but could not bring himself to speak, so he averted her gaze.
It was Addoyn who spoke, and Jareth narrowed his eyes as the man's voice cut through the room; cold, clear, and emotionless, "The red haired one?"
Jareth watched the exchange and watched with trepidation as Sarah dropped to the floor by the bed. He couldn't let her see what he was sensing under there, no one needed to see that. He pulled her back, though she fought against him. It did not matter though; he succeeded in bringing her away from the sight and he rubbed her arms. She had a broken look about her. Tears were forming in her eyes, but she kept them at bay by blinking. "Sarah, you should not have to see such atrocities." He thought by telling her it was unpleasant she would just accept it, but she pulled away from him, and with a sigh he realized she needed to see. She needed to know it was not a dream, so reluctantly he watched her reach the bed.
When she fainted he had brought her to his room.
ThirteenO'clock
With a small grin he realized she was again in his bed.
EightO'clock
Jareth paced in his throne room, the noisy goblins providing a much needed distraction, for his greatest impulse was to strangle the man before him. Addoyn, in all his haughtiness was lounging in the throne, a painful expression on his face.
"Listen, Jareth, Temnestra did not wish for you to know, and I respected that."
Jareth sneered, "Respected, or too afraid to argue?" He realized he was being a bit unfair; it was not like he had made any inquiries about his father. But he had always thought Temnestra had mated with some lower noble, someone of less stature than herself, never had it occurred to him consciously that the High Councilman would be his father. He stopped suddenly and grasped the pendant around his neck. Maybe he did, maybe he, of all the fools in the world, had taken this for granted. With a tug the chain snapped and he held the necklace out to Addoyn, not caring about the hurt in the older man's face. When Addoyn made no move to retrieve the pendant Jareth threw it as his feet, "It's yours, don't you want it back?" He was acting like a child, he realized that, but he honestly had nothing to fall back on.
He turned away and began pacing again. Sarah's form stumbled into the throne room and he watched her take a seat on the steps but said nothing to her, and she said nothing to him and that was fine. In fact, he was not sure if he wanted anyone to speak to him at all, but it was not a wish to be granted and when he turned back to the throne Addoyn had stood, his long robes draping the floor, and in his hand was a piece of paper, that, with a groan, Jareth recognized. He eyed it suspiciously and made no attempt to reach for it. "You have been trying to get me to read that my entire life, what is it?"
Addoyn shrugged, "Answers, of a sort." He extended his hand again and Jareth shook his head but grabbed the paper and began to read the "Prophicae". His eyes widened as he read the few stanzas and when he was done he stared into nothing. It was a riddle, a stupid, pointless riddle that may or may not have to do with anything at all. This was ridiculous. His eyes hardened and he stepped toward Addoyn, hand waving the paper in front of his face. "Tell me this" he spat at the paper, "is not what started it all?" Addoyn said nothing and Jareth turned away, hands thrown in the air, "This is nonsense. Are you telling me that my mother actually believes in this?" He turned back to Addoyn who was staring at floor. "Oh, don't tell me you believe this as well?" When Addoyn remained silent Jareth leaned against a wall, suddenly very tired. "Both of my parents are imbeciles."
ThirteenO'clock
Both of my parents…he thought silently to himself. Well, at least he had accepted it, for better or for worst, Addoyn was his father and Temnestra was his mother. His anger slowly left him as he thought about Addoyn. The old man had always been present in his life. When he had been on trial, Addoyn was fair and when he was sentenced the first time Jareth always felt he would have been given death; he wondered if that was Addoyn. When he was sentenced the second time Addoyn would not participate, and when he had nearly killed himself saving his subjects Addoyn had intervened. It was possible that Addoyn had been looking after him his whole life. When he had been presented to the council he bad been given his pendant, and at the thought his hand reached for it, but he paused as he remembered breaking it off in a fit. He missed the solid weight now, missed the feeling of the smooth metal against his chest, but with a sigh he pushed the thought out of his mind. Addoyn…Jareth's mind was spinning.
He pushed himself away from his desk and turned toward Sarah, who was crying softly in her hands. He was so weary, so tired. It was of no thought on his part that he found himself standing next to his bed, but now that he was there it was too inviting to leave. He sat on the soft mattress and pulled Sarah to him as he leaned back on the mountains of pillows he had to offer support. Her eyes were tear-stained and she was a bit surprised by his actions, but she made no attempt to pull away. In fact, he noticed with amusement, she snuggled against his chest; he could feel her tears through his shirt, but it was unimportant. Her breathing slowed and he caught a few remaining sobs as she drifted back to sleep and Jareth yawned. He was tired of fighting, tired of all this, but he would continue to fight; fight against a damned prophecy that made no sense, but he would not fight against sleep, not at this moment. He tightened his grip around Sarah and drifted off into slumber.
Thirteen O'clock
Addoyn sighed as he gazed at the empty throne room. The goblins, though not a very intelligent race, were prompt to retire at ten, and Jareth and Sarah had disappeared hours ago, leaving him to his solitude on the steps of the Goblin King's throne. All in all, he supposed it could have gone much worse. It was almost like Jareth had known, or at least he had accepted the facts well, but Addoyn was still called a coward by his son, and he had little defense for that. He had been a coward. All of Jareth's life he had stood in the back, watching as Temnestra raised him. He did not always agree with her methods, but she was his mother, and Underground law stated the mother had all the rights to the offspring, and he did not interfere. Rubbing his brow he thought about that law now. Maybe it was time for a change in domestic policy, for honestly, if there were more mothers like Temnestra it was going to be a very bleak future for his subjects.
With a sigh he picked up the discarded pendant and strolled his fingers along the symbols. It had been his pendant long ago, but the thought of taking it back brought a heavy pressure to his chest. The pendant was Jareth's now, even if in a fit of rage he had disowned it, it was still Jareth's. Absentmindedly, Addoyn picked the pendant from the floor and placed it safely in a pocket. No use leaving it on the floor; waiting for a goblin to destroy it, or it eat in their case. Addoyn walked behind the throne and with a wave of his hand the window reappeared and he peered onto the blackness. It was snowing again. The air was white as the wind kicked and stirred the snow around. Addoyn sighed, it was a beautiful sight; a beautiful and deadly sight, and he suddenly had a very bad feeling.
The curse had been strengthening on its own, but now matched with Temnestra's power…they may be safe for now, but it would not take Temnestra long to attack them. Not long at all. He paced the castle halls for the remainder of the night.
A/N: Ta da! Well? Was it ok?
I want to thank you all again for reading my twisted little story. I'm proud of it, and I'm glad you are enjoying my insanity! Review now! Please!