Disclaimer: I do not own the idea of the 'Labyrinth' or the characters and ideas taken from that work. This is a purely fictional work that does not make any money in the least, for which I am left very unsatisfied and poor.
Pairing: Jareth/Toby, as usual. But the pairing is not important. Both hetero and homo in this one.
Author's Note: I couldn't resist. It just needed this epilogue. As you might be able to tell, this is an end for the two main characters from my 'Bond of...' series that I have come to know and love. It's harder to write this in the character that I created, so it might take the rest of the week to post the rest.
Walking out of his bedchamber had never been as hard before. He didn't want to leave and yet he couldn't bear to stay. The walls pressed down on him, silent and eerie as never before. The curtains were drawn, but they were no longer needed now. The silver and blue furnishings could go back to silver and green, the colours before Toby had entered his life.
But he had to leave. And he did. The medallion around his neck had never felt so heavy before.
Arradine was asleep, her head cushioned on Aidan's shoulder. Ereditha was reading across from them, her blond hair flowing softly into her eyes. The book dropped from her fingers as her father walked slowly into the room.
Like a theatre play, Jareth opened his mouth to tell them. And that was when it hit him. Toby wasn't just resting; he was dead. That eerie silence was loneliness of the most extreme kind. The body was lying in the bed where Arradine and Ereditha had been birthed, where Aidan had been conceived, where so much love and sorrow had played between them. The wood sang with their sweat and passion and the pillows were saturated with the soft words they had spoken.
Like a movie, Aidan had barely struggled to his feet before his father hit the ground in a dead faint.
"Oh God, no," Arradine muttered thickly, pushing her loosened hair from her face. Aidan had dropped to pick Jareth up from the floor, Ereditha having strode into the bedchamber to see the news with her own eyes. "Ereditha, is it true?"
"It's true, Arra." The younger woman came out and shut the door reverently. "I-I think he's actually been- been gone a while. Father must have been in shock."
"Tell one of the goblins to get Lorelei, will you?" Aidan instructed tersely, "Red, there should be brandy in that cupboard there. Get me some."
His dad was dead. There was nothing he could do; there was nothing he would do. Right now, the most important being was his father. The prince cradled the inert body closer, trying to fuse strength and warmth into it by sheer presence. He could only imagine the agony that the Goblin King would endure when reality sank through. And they had been so in love!
"Here." Ereditha handed him the brandy.
Aidan nodded and gestured to her to help. "Hold him upright. I'll try to get some of it down his throat."
"Will it not be kinder to let him rest," Arradine asked suddenly.
Activity stopped.
Two pairs of blue eyes turned to stare at her. So different, the both of them, with two different shades and two different characters.
Arradine pointed to their father. "He has been with Dad for months now, watching him die. I don't presume to be an expert, but if I lost Zaraith…" she shrugged expressively. "I feel it would be kinder to let him stay as he is. Let him rest. He will need it."