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. The morning brings new awareness...

Rites of Passage

Chapter 14

Lady Anwen woke up worried, as she had done mostly every day for the last eight years. Many of those days had ended very badly and she dreaded that there were some of those still to come.

It was very early and the rest of the castle was silent. She had breakfast in the kitchen, alone, and pondered over what she had learned the day before. Jareth had found his soul mate, but she was human. She did not doubt that Sarah was the chosen one for him; she trusted her son completely and knew that he would not take such a matter lightly. But there had to be a reason for an occurrence as rare as that one. She could recall being told about a queen, many millennia ago, who had found out that her soul mate was human and, in spite of the opposition of the High Court, she had married him and made him king. They had had more than ten children and his human blood was surely traceable in many of the royal families. That had been the time when they had discovered that if a human remained indefinitely in the Underground, he –or she– gradually acquired many of the fae characteristics, starting by the seeming immortality.

Perhaps it was time new blood entered the Seelie Court. Perhaps it was a sign of a new beginning, a chance to start anew once the war was over.

After breakfast, the Queen decided she needed to have a talk with Sarah. It worried her that she could not grasp the real state of her relationship with Jareth and she did not like to see him suffering. He had had enough of that.

Gathering courage to face the girl, she walked to her room. She knocked on the door once, twice, three times and there was no answer. She worried Sarah had left the night before after the party. She tried the doorknob and discovered the door was not locked. She opened it slightly and saw that no one was on the bed.

She went into the room. Sarah's own clothes were still folded on a chair. The bed looked untidy, but not as if someone had really slept on it.

The dresser room door was open, so the Queen walked toward it to see if Sarah was there.

Then she saw the door to Jareth's room was open, too, and she was overcome by a sudden mix of worry, irritation, and relief. Jareth should have had a peaceful night of sleep, real rest before going to battle. The girl should not have interfered with that because his life depended on details such as that… But it could not be a bad thing if they had finally come to terms with who they were for each other.

She quietly walked toward the open door. She looked inside the room and saw them on the bed. She was surprised. That was not what she expected.

They were both still fully clothed, except for their shoes, and they were simply sleeping there, holding on to each other.

Lady Anwen walked back and exited Sarah's room. She was more confused than before. What was going on between them? How could she help them? She knew very well the powerful feelings a soul mate could provoke, but, what were they doing about them? If Jareth came back to her alive, she would have to interfere. She would have to do something about them.


Jareth was back in the tunnels below the Labyrinth. Twenty-five year old Sarah was standing right in front of him, wearing jeans, a poet shirt, and a vest.

"And you, Sarah, how are you enjoying my Labyrinth?" he asked getting closer.

"It's a piece of cake," she answered defiantly.

"Really? Then… how about upping the stakes?"

He got even closer to Sarah and she closed her eyes, trembling with anticipation. She could feel his breath on her skin and his warm body close to hers, and she knew he was going to kiss her, and then… there was nothing. She opened her eyes and saw him standing far from her, in full armor, ready to leave for battle.

"I'm afraid not today. The war isn't over," he said drily.

"That's not fair!" she exclaimed with frustration.

"You say that so often… I wonder what your basis for comparison is. Do you want to know what's not fair? To wait for your soul mate for sixteen hundred years only to find her in the eve of your death. That's not fair!" he finished with fury.

Both of them woke up with a start. Jareth held on to Sarah afraid she would fall of the bed. His heart was still racing because of the intensity of his dream.

"Are you alright?" he asked as she calmed down.

"Yes, I'm fine. I just had a weird dream; that's all." She lay back on her side and crossed her arm over his chest as if it were normal for them to rest that way.

He wondered if they had just shared a dream. His father had told him of such occurrence, but only after years of marriage to his mother. Even if Sarah was his soul mate, their link was not –yet– powerful enough to generate a shared dream. It had to be a coincidence. Nonetheless, he had to admit that their link had strengthened in the last days; the episode from the night before had proven it. He had felt her feelings as if she were a part of him. Even with his acute sensibilities, never before he had had an experience so intimate.

It was no surprise then that he had dreamed about how angry he felt for having to let her go. There was a tiny part of him that had started to think that, maybe, he could hold on long enough after his confrontation with Voss to be rescued. That he could, somehow, come back to her. Then again, there was no plan in place to rescue him and any hope he allowed himself to have would only interfere with his main plans.

But he had to say something about last night.

He took a deep breath and said, "Sarah, something happened between us last night…"

"I know," she admitted, snuggling up to him.

She usually needed encouraging to get closer to him, so her attitude surprised him, but he did not have much time to waste analyzing her behavior. "I can't explain it, but it was something significant," he continued, "and I believe we should discuss it, talk about it-"

"Okay," she agreed contentedly.

He wished he knew what was going on with her, but he added, "when the war is over, if I don't-"

She rose and put her fingertips on his lips to stop him from talking. "Don't say it."

He grabbed her fingers and kissed them before moving them away from his mouth. She was propped on her elbow, looking straight at him, and he wanted to make sure she understood him.

"There's a high probability that I'll die before this is all over, Sarah." She tried to stop him again, but he shook his head and held her hand in his. "Listen to me. If I survive, promise me we'll talk about us."

She smiled. "Okay."

He could not resist asking anymore. "What's going on? What are you doing?"

"I'm looking at you." She pulled her hand out of his and gently caressed his cheek.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Sarah… I need to get ready to leave," he forced himself to say.

"I know. Just give me a few more seconds. I want to remember you like this while you're gone… To have memories to keep me company until you come back."

"Sarah, I don't know-"

A knock on the door interrupted him. Jareth focused on something for a second and then declared, "It's Shawn." He got up, walked to the door and opened it slightly to talk to his friend.

Sarah stretched in bed. She wanted to look at him and record every detail in her brain. His figure, his scent –that alluring mix that she could not compare to any earthly smell–, his voice, and even the sensations he provoked in her. This morning she was feeling an overload of sensations. Every word he said increased her desire for him; it was as if there was a direct connection between his voice and her body. She had been having trouble keeping her attitude blithe and friendly when what she wanted was so much more.

When he closed the door and turned back to look at her, she was sitting on the edge of the bed.

"I know, I know. I have to go." She got up, picked up her shoes, and walked to her door. From the doorway she asked, "Can I see you off?"

He nodded. "Didymus will be by soon to figure out how to help you; he can take you to join my parents downstairs."

She looked at him wistfully. "Good luck then; I'll keep you in my prayers." She walked into the dresser room and was about to close the door behind her, when Jareth put a hand on her arm and spun her around. In a second, she was standing flush against him.

And then he kissed her.

It was not her first kiss and, hopefully, it would not be the last, but Sarah would forever consider this the most important kiss she ever got.

It was the first time she had a chance to taste him and she immediately discovered that she would be addicted to his taste for the rest of her life.

It was the first time that her body actually came in such a close, immediate, face to face contact with his –clothes notwithstanding– and it gave her the satisfaction of knowing that his was as affected as hers by their proximity.

It was the first time that she felt allowed to roam his body with her hands and she confirmed that there were hard muscles under every centimeter of silk.

There were many other first times right then, but she would have time to muse over them later. Now, her heart was racing madly and she was almost out of air.

As unexpectedly as he had started it, Jareth ended the kiss, but kept their intimate contact for a few more seconds, leaning his forehead against hers as he tried to calm down his labored breathing.

Then he whispered, "Thank you, for everything," by her ear and walked backwards into his room until he closed the door.