Author's Note: Well. This little story is churning itself out faster than I anticipated. It wants to be written, and I shall try to oblige.

Chapter Three: I Move the Stars for No One...

The darkness was complete. It was as if no light could exist in such a place, as if it would be swallowed utterly by whatever kept this world so cold and unchanging. And yet, there was something. It was far off the in the distance yet, but coming ever closer like a moth to a flame. Where before there was nothing, Sarah could now feel a rush of wind on her face and a great shuddering of the air, like the beating of powerful wings...

"She has the look of one already dead."

The King of the Goblins turned from the window to face Hoggle and Sir Didymus. He was dressed all in black: silk breeches and a full-sleeved shirt, with a leather vest fitted to his lean frame. They stood in a small bedchamber in the east wing, its walls a midnight blue and painted with hundreds of tiny silver stars like the night sky. On a bed hung with sheer lavender silk lay a dark-haired girl, eyes closed as if in sleep.

"Your Majesty, please," Hoggle begged, "She meant no harm in returning. It was I who called her back, a foolish whim--"

"You." It was more a flat statement than a question. Jareth's eyes narrowed at the cowering dwarf. "And how did you accomplish such a thing, may I ask?" This creature before him shouldn't have had the power to seize a mortal from across the void. The question bothered Jareth greatly, but he set it aside for the time being.

Hoggle grew even more nervous. "I... I don't rightly know, your Majesty. We were there one moment, talking through her mirror and the next she was there, in the Labyrinth gardens up to her knees in the goldfish pond..."

"I see."

Jareth turned to hide the mixture of grim amusement that flickered across his countenance. He brushed past Hoggle and a for once stunned into silence Sir Didymus and bent over the bed where Sarah lay, still and unmoving as a statue. Her clothing was muddied and torn, the collar laying her slender neck bare where his keen eyes could detect only the faintest of heartbeats in the hollow of her throat. She had changed little in four years, perhaps gaining an inch or so in height. The rest of it was just as he remembered--still the same long hair the color of a summer night, still the same rose-kissed mouth with lips parted slightly as if in some secret delight.

"My adversary..." he murmured to himself, eyes fixed on the milk-smooth curve of her cheek.

For four years, Jareth had looked upon no living creature with his own eyes, neither goblin nor mortal. His fury kept even the most intrepid of goblins from setting foot on the steps that led to his tower. The tower was his private realm, visited by none other than himself. It contained a library, with all his books and endless maps of the Labyrinth. The ceiling of the grand bedchamber opened to a crystal dome that provided a bird's eye view of his kingdom, and beneath it was a rarely used bed, heaped with white silk coverlets. The tower became his self-imposed prison, one he did not care to leave. Days passed as moments, then months. His maps gathered dust as he spent weeks on end crystal-gazing, seeing for himself the sights of the Aboveground that had prompted a mere mortal to choose a life there over all her dreams and desires...

He haunted Sarah in owl form, although she did not see him. Jareth felt at home in that form. There was no room in raptor's heart for loss or regret, there was only the fierce joy of flight and hunger for living meat, a crimson writhing under the tearing of beak and talon. As an owl, he could watch as if from a great distance, seeing everything but feeling nothing. But that wasn't entirely true. He had interfered, Jareth, and not the yellow-eyed bird of prey whose shape he wore. He hadn't meant to, but it was as if he could not help it. And now she was here again.

"And you would have kept her presence here a secret from me."

"Your Majesty, from you there can be no secrets--"

Jareth silenced him with a black look. "Don't think you can lie to me, Higgle. You haven't the brains for it."

The dwarf's shoulders sagged in defeat. "We... we thought you would be angry if you knew."

"We? Am I to understand you are involved this scheme as well, Sir Didymus?"

"I own that I am, your Majesty." The knight drew himself up proudly. "When the Labyrinth began to fail, it became harder to contact those in the Aboveground, but friend Hoggle and I both tried to reach her. We hoped my lady would be able to save the kingdom from destruction."

Hoggle drew in an anxious breath, half-expecting to see Sir Didymus reduced to a smoking pile of ash.

"Save the kingdom... indeed." Jareth's harsh laughter echoed off the chamber walls. "She who was nearly the ruin of it and everything I deem most precious. And now you tell me she's the one who needs saving."

His gaze turned back upon the girl. There was more grace than the sixteen year old had possessed, but also an ineffable sadness, too. He touched her cheek with a slim, gloved hand and turned it toward the sputtering candlelight, as indifferent as if he were examining a book or some other curiousity, save for the trembling of his fingers. He drew back, wrapping his cloak around him and faced his subjects with dark, hooded eyes. Arrogant and cold as ice he looked, like a statue of glittering obsidian.

"Give me one good reason why I should save her."

"Your Majesty!" Sir Didymus cried, "The lady called upon thee for aid!"

"Did she now?"

The valiant little knight bristled his fur all over, the closest he ever came to defying his ruler. "She summoned thee by name, Your Majesty. Thou art honor bound to help her."

"She called me, yes, but she made no such request in my hearing. Nothing prevents me from taking her back to the mortal world and leaving her to their tender mercies."

"Your Majesty, that may be too late."

The ragged little fox was probably correct, Jareth admitted reluctantly. Mortal doctors might save Sarah... if they could find out what was wrong with her. He flicked another glance back to the bed, and the bitterness in him welled up like the tide. Four years, and he never thought to see her again. And then one day, his dreamless sleep is interrupted by her voice. At first it was a whisper, little more than a faint exhalation of breath. He started up, then forced himself to lie down again. It could not be... Ah, but she was cruel, she had no right! But the reverberations of her summons swept through the castle with a roar like a storm only he could hear. He'd had no choice but to go, cursing even as he flung himself from his tower window, feeling his limbs stretch, then dwindle until they rode the wind toward the sound of her voice.

"I beg you, Your Majesty. Anything you ask of me, I will do, only let her live." Hoggle's voice was steady now even as he wrung his handkerchief in his gnarled hands.

"Anything I ask, you already do," Jareth pointed out sharply, "Because I am your King and you will live under my rule or... you won't live at all."

But he turned back to the bed, impatiently motioning the supplicants to stand back. Casually tugging off one leather glove, he extended his bare hand over Sarah's recumbent form. Outside, the wind suddenly picked up, rattling the window and howling like a wild beast. Inside, the candlelight flickered and almost extinguished. Jareth stood like this for what seemed an interminable moment, then gave Hoggle an unreadable look.

"You poisoned her."

The dwarf seemed to crumple before his eyes. "I never meant to harm her... She trusted me, called me friend..."

"Kind Hoggle," Sir Didymus said gently, "We know it was no purposeful act."

"One of your wretched herbal concoctions, no doubt." Jareth said briskly, drawing off the other glove and discarding it on a chair by the bed. "I've warned you about those."

He sounded so much like the irascible Goblin King of old that even in his despair, Hoggle looked up hopefully. Even though he'd assured Sarah that the King would answer her summons, the little man hadn't been sure. Five years was a long time, and with the Labyrinth falling into ruin, Hoggle could be sure of nothing now. As the Labyrinth had changed, so had the king. His tall frame was as lean and hard as ever, but he seemed aged somehow. Jareth's pale blond hair had streaks of silver in it now, and he wore nothing but severe black. Even the castle itself was unusually somber. Gone were the goblins who usually adorned the throne room, cackling in their drunkenness with their livestock running loose. Jareth had never cared much for their company, but now he cared for no one. Hoggle risked a sideways glance at his king, whose attention was directed toward the bed. His face was in shadow, and for some reason he couldn't explain, a slight shudder of foreboding ran through Hoggle.

In truth, Jareth was angrier than he sounded. What was food and drink to Underground creatures could be poison to mortals. Not knowing what vile weeds Hoggle dredged from his garden, she was lucky to have lived this long. He would blast the dwarf's garden to a cinder, and for good measure, he'd reduce his precious apple tree to kindling.

"Leave us."

Jareth's tone brooked no argument. Sir Didymus growled quietly in protest, but Hoggle was quiet. Sadly touching the plastic bracelet he wore on his wrist, the little man limped out of the room, gently guiding Didymus before him. The door slammed shut behind them and with a gesture of Jareth's hand, the bolt slid firmly into place.

Finally, he allowed himself to exhale raggedly, seating himself on the bed as close to the sleeping girl as he dared. Cautiously, as if he were accepting the touch of a poisonous snake, he took Sarah's hands in both his own. She did not stir. With a thought, several dozen more candles flamed to life all around the room. He should not spare even that much effort, Jareth realized, his lips thinning. It was going to be a long night.

Yes, this chapter turned out to be surprisingly short. I assumed people would be interested to at last see a scene with Jareth in it. Also, while I don't really intend to end each chapter on a cliff-hanger, sometimes there's a natural stopping point that seems right. With this chapter, it seemed best to end it here, even though it isn't very long. But if anyone's still reading, rest assured the next chapter, The Queen of the Dead, is already written and is in the process of final editing. It will be posted shortly.

Comments/reviews are welcome.