Rites of Passage by Betty Bokor
Jareth/Sarah. When Sarah is called to save the King, her life takes a whole new course, again.
Spoilers: The movie, the book, and some of the Return series.
Disclaimer: The Labyrinth original characters belong to The Jim Henson Company and Lucasfilms Ltd. This was written strictly for the purpose of entertainment. No attempt at copyright infringement has been made.
A.N. And the night has come.
Rites of Passage
Chapter 13
After the dance, Jareth guided her back to their group of friends and left her with them to go back to the dance floor many times, every time with a different fae. They were all beautiful women and Sarah had the strange sensation that she should be jealous, but her mind kept going back to the same calculation. She had quickly reviewed every piece of knowledge about fertility she had acquired in medical school. To estimate her most fertile window of time, she had to count from five days before ovulation until one or two days after it. Ovulation would happen approximately on the fourteenth day of her cycle, so if she counted… Six days. She would be nowhere near fertile until six days from that night and he was leaving in the morning. She had no chance of achieving her goal. None.
She was starting to feel desperate, when Ruy approached and asked her if she wanted to dance. She accepted the invitation and, as soon as they were on the dance floor, she asked him, "When are you coming back?"
Ruy looked at her, surprised. "What do you mean?"
"Are you coming back before the final strike or whatever Jareth is planning?"
Ruy looked around, concerned about who was listening to them. "That's something I can't talk about."
"I don't need you to tell me anything about his plans. I just need to know if I'll see him again."
He tried to assess what she was really asking and he concluded that she was worried she would not ever get another chance to see the man she loved. "If everything goes well, we'll be back once, when this phase is finished, before the last," he confided in a low voice.
She nodded in acknowledgment. "When?"
"Nobody knows."
She nodded again.
She was so worried thinking about the possibilities that she did not notice that Jareth had not stopped watching her since the moment she had walked into the dance floor with Ruy.
Shawn and Keene noticed and agreed that it was a good sign.
A few moments after the song finished, Jareth walked up to the dais and thanked everybody for having been part of his celebration and, in particular, Keene and Sarah for saving his life. Then, he said goodnight and walked toward the exit of the room.
Sarah was stunned. That seemed to have been a short ball. And nobody else looked interested in leaving. The music resumed and many couples began dancing.
Ruy grabbed her hand, "Come on; let's go."
"Where are we going?"
"To the goblin dance."
Keene, Izar, Shawn, and Evangelina joined them on their way out. The Queen followed them closely.
"The what?" Sarah asked.
"Whenever there's a gathering for the fae, Jareth leaves half way and has a party with the goblins, He decided a long time ago that it wasn't wise to mix them both in one room," Ruy explained as he rushed through the hallways.
When they got closer to the Throne Room, Sarah heard the music. The others entered the room, but she stayed behind, by the doorway, watching the scene. Jareth was singing and dancing among numerous goblins and other creatures. Many were drinking what seemed to be some kind of ale stored in barrels around the room. Chicken of various colors and sizes searched for food on the floor or sat around peacefully observing the others. Now and then, Jareth would kick a goblin up in the air and he –or she– would scream, overjoyed.
For Sarah, it was almost surreal and it got even more surprising when she realized the song talked about a magic dance and a babe with the power of voodoo; she immediately recalled Toby's phone call.
"It's been a while since I've seen him dance and sing," Sarah heard Lady Anwen whispering behind her.
She turned to look at her. "My brother still remembers this song from ten years ago."
"It's one of the goblins' favorites."
"Don't they get hurt when they're kicked?" Sarah asked as another one screamed with joy.
The Queen smiled. "He'd never hurt them. But that's the kind of thing they like. He's learned with them."
Sarah turned back to the room. Everybody seemed happy. A few seconds later, the song ended and the crowd calmed down. Right then, one small goblin who had visited Sarah's house in many occasions, suddenly recognized her and started yelling excitedly toward Jareth as he pointed at her.
"Sarah's here; Sarah's here! Do the flying song with her! Do it, do it, do it, pleeeeeease!" A chorus of goblins joined him in the plea.
The King looked at her asking for permission and extended his hand towards her. She boldly walked into the room in spite of her misgivings about the flying part of the song.
Before she had time to really worry, he flicked his wrist and she was floating in the air above the central pit of the room. Jareth started singing a very upbeat song and with a movement of his hand he made her softly move towards him as a group of goblins cheered behind him. But before she got too close to him, her direction changed and she found herself floating towards Ruy, who had his own cheering squad. Two more groups fought for her, respectively led by Shawn and Keene, and she gently changed directions several times during the song.
Amid the peculiar sensations that floating in the air provoked, Sarah noticed that every time she was near Jareth, Ruy would fight harder to retrieve her… and vice versa. At the end of the song, the King prevailed and she landed delicately in his arms. He swiftly put her back on the floor and turned around to propose one last song.
One flick of his wrist and one crystal thrown against a wall later, there was a piano in the left side of the room and his friends were ready to play several different instruments.
Jareth walked towards the piano and many goblins followed him. As soon as he sat down, the goblins found places to sit around him, on the floor, the lid of the piano, and even the edges of his bench.
Sarah went back to the doorway and joined the Queen.
The new song spoke of friendship and the importance of having the support of those who cared. It seemed everybody but Sarah knew the lyrics, because an unruly chorus of off-key creatures joined the King in his performance.
When the song seemed to be about to come to an end, its melody suddenly transformed into a sort of lullaby and, one by one, the goblins and other creatures settled down and fell asleep. As soon as the final notes were played, the instruments vanished in the air and the room became darkened, only lit by the moonlight coming through the window.
Jareth and the others quietly walked out. "To the Throne Room, for one last toast," he commanded.
Sarah looked at the Queen for answers. "The Throne Room?"
She smiled. "This is only for the goblins. He usually keeps the wished away here while he waits for the runner to be done; but all other matters are tended to in the official Throne Room."
When Sarah entered the room, she understood the difference. This was a room that resembled what she would have imagined as fit for a king. The elegant gobelins on the walls, the exquisite paintings, and every article of furniture spoke of grace and good taste. This room agreed with what she had seen in the rest of the castle.
The toast was mostly a well-wishing farewell for those ready to leave in the morning. Sarah felt out of place and stayed quiet behind the others.
As soon as the ceremony was over and as everybody else left the room, Jareth turned to Sarah. "May I accompany you to your room?" he asked politely.
She was taken by surprise. "I thought you'd send me home," she said.
"There was still no power or heating when we left. I believe you'd have a more comfortable, restful night of sleep here… Besides, you can talk with Didymus in the morning about helping you with those powers. You still have a day off, right?"
She nodded.
"Then…" he extended his arm toward her and she accepted it. They walked silently toward her room, but she felt there was something bothering him. When they reached her door, he stopped and opened it for her. "I hope you enjoyed your stay at my castle and especially the ball. I have no doubt Ruy was an exceptional host."
He bowed to her and delicately kissed her hand. Then turned and walked to his room without another word.
It took her a few seconds standing there in the doorway to realize that what she had just heard was jealousy in his voice. She slammed the door shut with fury and reclined against it. Jealousy. Really? She had spent the whole night trying to figure out how to make him happy and he was jealous? And probably mad at her. And she would not be able to give him a child anyway because she would probably never see him again… And…
The tears started rolling down her face. The anguish mixed with the anger and she no longer could keep the façade in place. Sobbing, she ran to the bed and threw herself on it repeating, "It's not fair; it's not fair!"
After a few minutes of crying, she felt the irresistible desire to see him, to straighten things out, to talk about the possibilities… She walked toward the dressing room and leaned her back against the door to his room, but she did not dare knock or try to open the door. She remained there, crying with increasing desperation, waiting for a miracle.
On the other side of the wall, Jareth was walking around the room filled with rage. How could she? He had believed that she felt something more for him. He had assumed that, as his soul mate, there was no one more important to her than him. But tonight…
Slowly, a deep sadness started gaining ground over his anger. This last little hope he had been nurturing since she had come back to his life was dying and, when that happened, he would be left with nothing.
He took his jacket off and sat on his sofa.
It did not matter what she felt for him or for Ruy or for anyone else. What mattered was that he had fallen in love with her, with this grown-up Sarah who seemed as far out of reach as the fifteen year old one.
He reclined on the back of the sofa and closed his eyes. His sadness increased tenfold. He began thinking that there was more to it than just his feelings.
He stood up and walked toward the door to her room. The closer he got, the stronger the sadness became. He stopped right in front of her door and leaned his forehead against it. He closed his eyes again and a wave of grief hit him. He almost felt like crying.
He softly said her name, "Sarah… Sarah, are you there?"
She did not answer, but the sound of a strangled sob was unmistakable.
He opened the door and she almost fell against him, crying. He picked her up in his arms and took her to his bed. He carefully laid her there, on her side, and he gently took her shoes off. He then walked to the other side of the bed, took his boots off, and climbed to lay by her side.
Almost automatically she reached for him and he held her with his arm around her back.
For a long while they rested like that, as she cried and he held her, until she slowly calmed down. In the penumbra of the room, he thought she was asleep and he finally allowed himself to sleep, too. He was tired, he still felt pain, and he had too much to do the following day. He had no time to analyze the complex feelings that were overwhelming him. He would think about them later, if he survived, because, for the first time since the war had begun, he had worried about the –almost certain– possibility of dying, simply because he would miss the chance of sharing his life with her. And that was a very selfish thought he could not allow himself. He had to enjoy the little respite he had been given and the rest would be decided by fate. She was there, in his arms, and that was enough at that moment.
But Sarah was not sleeping. She had at last regained her composure and her mind was starting to gain control of the situation.
What was she doing there? she wondered. She was a responsible adult who had dedicated the last years of her life to her studies and her work, and now she was desperately holding on to a man who was not really a man, but a fae, something she could not clearly explain or understand. Someone who could make her float in the air at will and, who knew, how many other things she had not experienced yet. She could feel his power, even if the hand that held her was hidden in a glove.
She loved this man and she wanted to make him happy. She wanted to have his child. Why? He may not even live long enough to meet the baby.
What would a baby accomplish? Would it help her relationship with him? No. It would probably complicate the situation, but it would not do anything for them as a couple. For sure, it would be a link between them for the rest of her life, but there would be nothing else beyond that unless they wanted it to be. She had not changed her mother's mind when she had decided to leave her father for Jeremy.
What would happen if the fae did not accept her child as one of them? She did not care; she would take care of him without them. And if Jareth died, she could not imagine his parents abandoning his only child.
What if the child was different or had magic in her world? She would move to the middle of Iceland if she had to do it for him. She would change everything in her life to protect him. She would even let him live in the Underground if his singularity became too evident.
Did she have the strength to be a single mother? Could she face her father and hide from him the truth about her child? Would she agree to live in the Underground if she were asked to take his child there? Would she leave family and friends behind? If it was the only way to help her child…
No; none of these questions helped her with the truth. The truth was that she loved Jareth and she wanted his child, as his legacy, as a part of him that would live on, as proof that he had really existed, and, if he survived, to make him happy, complete, accomplished. The rest would be faced when it came.
The only remaining question was if she could make him come to her to simply enjoy one night of passion without the –conscious– burden of having to father a child. One night for them and their desires. Because she knew he wanted her; perhaps he did not love her, but he wanted her. She had felt it; she was certain.
Then, she needed only one answer. Would she have the courage to seduce him?
A.N. Thanks for the suggestion that the flying song could be "Roll to Me." I listened to it and it sounded great.
