Title: The Labyrinth: The Way Back

Author: Aviry Nolane

Email: anyone would like to become my new proofreader, the position is available. If you love this fic, then I would love your help in finishing it. I will send all chapters to the editor first, and to make it easy, I am not looking for an English expert by any means. Just someone who can say honestly if they like it or not, and if they think it fits the body so far.

You're fabulous!

And now, on with the show –

Chapter 22 - Sunset

It only took one left turn to undo all the rights Sarah had taken in the last few days.

If she turned on purpose or not, I doubt she could even tell you, but the outcome, no matter the desire, was inevitably the same.

Almost at once Sarah found herself in an all too familiar stone foyer, one long solitary balcony window catching the onslaught of nightfall and the beams of multicolored light illuminating one all too familiar form.

Yes, familiar though it was, comforting would just not be a good descriptor.

Sarah, never one to miss an opportunity, was all too quickly quite in her element. The recent encounters with her jailer, soon to be husband or executioner, all came tumbling back in a frighteningly organized way. They all seemed too happy to equate to one single solitary emotion, drive, passion and force: pure unadulterated hatred.

She moved forward as quickly as her skirts would allow, which was harrowing in on nearly a mild shopping mall pace, and before she had a chance to think of what or how to say any of the seething delirious thoughts rolling around in her head, the King spoke first.

He has a knack for it, that much is certain.

His back still to her, he cleared his throat and began in what seemed like a voice lacking the loathsome arrogance Sarah knew.

"The war is raging, Sarah." He said simply, and Sarah, for once, found herself quite without a retort.

She moved next to him then, careful to stay distant from the gloved hand which tapped an unheard melody on the crumbling stone windowsill.

She looked to where the Labyrinth lay spread out beneath her, and in the light of the sunset it seemed almost to be falling asleep as she watched. The sight alone took her breath away, not to mention any words or thought of her current company.

The ground below twisted and turned, not menacingly as she remembered, but like an old, sloping countryside. The reds and blues of the sunlight falling peacefully on it's ins and outs, creating soft resonant shadows which all too keenly stirred her inner romantic. She squinted to see better the basin of earth below, the milling of the tiny city even slowing now as the sun slipped gently into the sparkling warm horizon.

When he spoke again Sarah felt as if being awoken from a dream she was not yet ready to leave, and so she kept her gaze upon the magical feat of nature below.

"The war is not yours alone, Sarah." He murmered, "Nor is it mine."

Sarah's thoughts slowed, thankful she was not being asked to speak, and he continued.

"The war belongs to all you see before you. This land, these people, this magic which ties it all together." She felt him move before she heard it, but made no effort to alert him to her understanding. Again, she focused on the hills.

"They may not seem like much to you, but they are all that I have. And you may not understand or choose to, but the existence of everything you now see, inside and out, now depends on you and you alone."

She swallowed.

"There is a danger here, one much greater than I have ever seemed to you. A dangerous force that would have all of the Underground, all that is and ever will be, a pit of destruction. For magic to die and blood to reign, and," he took a moment and Sarah could feel the weight of his breath now rustle in her hair, "for you to die as well."

The last beam of sunlight now slipped below the horizon and the Labyrinth fell asleep below her. She turned, knowing full well, but still surprised when she found herself face to face with the King of the Goblins.

"I can't let it end this way, Sarah," he nearly whispered, and Sarah found herself once again unmistakably caught in his gaze. Here he was before her, the Evil King of her worst nightmares, pleading with her for something she still wasn't quite sure of.

But his eyes, his eyes seemed to know it all, and she thought maybe if she could stare into them long enough, she would find her truth inside them.

'What do you want, Jareth?' She questioned inside, 'What can I possibly do for you?'

And with this he smiled, and seemed to move in closer, though Sarah could not be sure if he had in fact moved at all.

"My pet," he levied, "I told you long ago."

Sarah remained glued to his gaze as it changed, melted, transformed, so much so that she barely heard his words and if she did, they didn't register.

It was as if his eyes were translating pictures instead of colors, words instead of thoughts, she could feel it, sweeping through her, feel the loneliness that haunted him, she could feel the anguish he felt, if only for a moment.

She reached up then, barely conscious of her movements, wondering inside if as a fae his flesh would now be as icy and cold as she expected.

Her fingertips brushed lightly against his temple, and she let them sink slowly down his cheek, his jaw tightening as she perused the answer to her question.

She felt herself urging him towards her then, the pools of his vision now so changeable that she found it nearly impossible to tell what she saw there.

He had slumped forward so that they were eye to eye when she finally found her words.

"Jareth," she whispered softly, "you're so warm."

His eyes snapped shut then as if she had struck him, and he seemed to release into her touch. At that moment, she wasn't sure what happened, who had moved, who had leaned in, whose lips brushed against whose.

But she felt him, she felt the warmth of his lips graze her own, and she knew what had brought her here to this place with him.

Time spun then and she found the understanding of her mission here. There was no compromise. She would be his or they would both die.

She shuddered at the thought of such a consequence, of such a promise to be asked, of such a man to ask of it.

And in that moment he was gone, he had jumped so far backwards that Sarah was frozen at the idea of how one could move so fast in such little time.

He turned then, his back icy cold to her once more and Sarah felt her limbs regaining balance. He said something to himself then Sarah could only place as a curse, though she understood no meaning in it.

"Jareth," she questioned herself more with the word than him, "Jareth, I didn't mean to-"

Again, she felt him move before she saw it.

His wrist raised, his fingertips flicked, and she found herself once again in her room, a locked door her only companion.