Chapter III

Sarah sat up in bed, once more fully awake, and completely aware of what had happened last night. It was early, no one was up, and that meant she had some time to herself. Good, we can try and figure this out then. With that thought she bounced out of bed and ran over to open her window.

A feather greeted her from the windowsill, brilliantly white and shining with dewdrops. Quiet beautiful, actually. As though I really need a reminder! She thought, but nonetheless took the feather inside and stuck it in her mirror frame, where it contrasted brightly with old photos of her mother and weird-looking pictures she had cut out from art magazines.

Jareth's memo did its duty, however –Sarah sat down on her bed and began to think about what he had told her. What does he mean – the time has turned back? She mused, playing with her long, dark hair, what does that mean? Why should I not go back under any circumstances?

She remembered his parting words – when she saw him in her mirror for the very first and, she thought, last time. He had said that they would never meet again, that all connection between her world and the Underground was destroyed, and that he wouldn't be able to see or hear her . . .

Ever? She had asked then, her voice betraying her thoughts on the subject . . .

"Unless some higher force intervenes" he had answered wearily, "it would take more power than I could ever have . . ."

Then it is forever . . . she had said quietly, her eyes filling with tears.

"Yes," he had answered "Only forever"

Then he was gone, and she was sure she'd never see him again, never hear his voice, never see his eyes . . .for some reason that she didn't understand, she wept then, wept bitterly, deciding that life wasn't worth it, and throwing her self at the mirror where she saw him a mere half hour ago, hating everything, and most of all, herself. That was as far as her memory could comfortably reach. Beyond that point lay haziness and fog so dense, that she had no idea what had really happened.

If she had known what really happened, if she had remembered herself fainting from her extreme cuts and loss of blood, remembered strong but gentle arms picking her up and cradling her, like a child; usually proud and haughty eyes weeping crystal tears, the cold voice she thought she knew so well, singing softly to her, then she would have known that her wounds had magically healed, her mirror had been magically restored, and escaping life had been brought back into her frail body by the magic of love.

But, her memory retained nothing of those events, and seeing both herself and her mirror completely whole and well when she came to, Sarah's logical mind assumed that she must have fainted before reaching the mirror, and come to only a few minutes after that – excluding the possibility that anyone, let alone Jareth, had been there next to her, and had saved her life.

Now, she saw him again. Even though it was not a completely unpleasant encounter, she was surprised to find that the Goblin King was still too much for her to handle. She was, like it or not, still pretty much at his mercy. Jareth had not visibly changed – except that he seemed extremely worried about the whole time thing . . . So what if the time turned back? She didn't see anything terrifying or tragical in that - it would be really cool to be able to go back there and visit the Labyrinth again! Or maybe it just seemed that way now; when she was safe and sound in her own room, knowing very well that pretty soon it would be time to take Merlin and Toby for a walk, and then help out with breakfast.

Maybe she was kind of scared at the idea of literally coming face to face with Jareth . . . A magic mirror is all very well, but you couldn't just turn your back on a person . . . or fae . . . and especially not a Goblin King.

Watching the sun come up and take it's usual asymmetrical place in the pinkish-orange sky, Jareth watched Sarah's thoughts. It was becoming easier for him – the bridge that she had shattered was rebuilding itself . . . actually, it was shattering backwards, but that was not something to dwell on.

So she hadn't remembered. He had supposed as much – it would be too much for her if she knew – it was too much for him! Those long hours that had floated by as seconds were replaying themselves in his memory over and over again. He would hate to have to relive that. Yet, if time behaved like it was supposed to, it would eventually stop moving back, and start moving in the right direction once again, compelling her to relive everything. And as powerful as he was, he had very limited control over time –so he would most likely have to relive everything as well, and that would be torture.

"…on and on the rain will fall – like tears from a star, like tears from a star…

on and on, the rain will say – how fragile we are, how fragile we are…"

Torture to feel her near, and not be able to have her, torture to once again have to act the 'romantic villain', torture to have her destroy the Labyrinth, and finally the indescribable agony of those endless seconds when he lost all control of his life . . .

Enough! He decided, and stalked off to his bedchamber, not having anything better to do.

She's been warned. If she didn't listen to him, as she probably didn't, there really wasn't much he could do. It was painful enough trying to get her to understand and take him seriously. She was still a child – still seeing him as the all-powerful being her imagination had portrayed him as . . . maybe someday she'll find out more . . .

Conjuring up a crystal with an impatient flick of his slender gloved hand, Jareth toyed with it for a while, wondering where she was right now, wondering if he would once again be able to see her . . . it was taking hold … As there was only one way to know for sure, he held up the now cloudy sphere of pale light that for the past few minutes had been rolling off the tips of his fingers, and looked into it's shining depths.

"… every move you make, every step you take, I'll be watching you…"

Sarah shook her head, startled out of her daydream. She should have been cleaning her room right now, but instead of dusting, vacuuming and sorting out all of her piled up school stuff, Jareth's gaze found her sitting by the window and staring off into space.

He caught the end of her fantasy by its colorful tail of emotions, but couldn't make out exactly what she had been dreaming about . . . it had something to do with . . . birds? The past? He couldn't grasp it firmly enough . . .

Sarah stretched and closed her eyes, remembering . . . she had been thinking of the first time she saw Jareth, when he flew into her window disguised as an owl . . . She smiled as she plucked the snowy-white feather from her old mirror . . . so he was out and about again . . . how nice it must be to be able to change into a magnificent bird and fly off into the sky . . .

Jareth snorted in disgust – nice? Oh, yeah, sure – very nice . . . he couldn't exactly choose his form of transportation . . . it was extremely tiring having to fly to her, when in the Underground he could just think of where he wanted to go, and he would be there in a mater of seconds . . . but it was the only way to get to her world, and tiring or not, he'd make the trip.

Hearing her parent's call her, Sarah tossed her tresses over her shoulder, and giving the mirror a soft smile hurried downstairs.

He watched her go past her door, but with a shock, he realized that he couldn't follow her beyond – the traitorous crystal had become foggy and clouded – hiding her from his intent gaze.