Oooh...another chapter...(sparkly eyes)...
Disclaimer: (Growls at 'disclaimer') I loathe you...
Sarah stood before the great double doors that led into the ballroom with apprehension clear on her face. Could she do this? Well, she reasoned, she was going to have to. So squaring her shoulders she nodded to Jareth who whispered their names to be yelled to the announcer…dude…thing…who's proper title the authoress has forgotten at the moment. Suddenly the doors were flung open and the crier (is that the name?) cried out their names.
"King Jareth of the Goblin Realms, and Lady Sarah of the Labyrinth!"
Sarah's eye widened at the title she was given, but quickly shrugged it off for more important matters. Apparently the crier (that's what he'll be called now) didn't realizing what he was crying until after he had cried it, for he nearly gagged after saying it and looking Sarah up and down as if disbelieving she was there…which he probably was. Also, there was sudden silence in the ballroom as everyone turned to stare speechless up at the couple on the large staircase. Sarah's grip on Jareth's arm tightened. She saw the small smile at the corner of his lips to tell her it was alright. To relax. To breathe.
And so they descended into the deafening quiet of the ballroom all the while staring straight ahead, until they reached the foot of the stairs where they then turned and walked towards the two monarchs on golden thrones. Sarah pulse quickened as the High King stared deep into her eyes. She shuddered as the High Queen did the same.
"Greetings Father, Mother," he said as he bowed, with Sarah curtsying along side him. "May I present Lady Sarah Williams, the sole victor of the Labyrinth?"
"Your Majesties," she murmured still curtsied.
"Rise, Lady Sarah," Jairo announced straighten in his throne.
Sarah did as she was told and as she did so caught Gavrillian in the corner of her eye. The elf was trying not to laugh. "My Liege, may I be as forward as to say…I am pleased to see you again."
A great murmur rose in the crowd as it was found, beyond any doubt, that Sarah knew just exactly who she was, if not completely why. The High King and Queen both had raised eyebrows reminding Sarah where Jareth got his. Jareth, meanwhile, was smirking and Sarah heard an audible titter in the crowd. Gavrillian was not holding herself together well at all. This made Sarah smile. Curtsying once more she stepped back, only to see a familiar face as she was looking back up. Eyes widened she forgot all preliminaries and decorum as her smile split into a wide grin.
"Da!" she exclaimed rushing over to the tall Fae and jumping into his arms capturing him in a fierce hug.
"My little Sarah!" Tiernan gasped his eyes moistening. Could it be? Could his little girl be back? Oh, my Sarah," he coddled closing his eyes as he rested his head against hers and stroked her hair.
"Da," Sarah smiled gently swinging in his arms. She didn't know how she could feel such love for a man she didn't know existed scarcely a few days ago. But she felt love for him like she loved her mortal father in the Aboveground. Eyes snapping open she pushed away a little to look her Fae father in the eyes. Yes, he was Sarah's father…and she was Sarah…but…
Tiernan nodded sadly knowing what she was thinking. He also knew that now was not the time to reminisce. Sarah, his dear little Sarah, was supposed to be dead…and yet here she was wearing a horribly yellow dress next to the bumblebee of a king Jareth. This was not good. How much did she know? How was she back? Why do pop-ups continue to infiltrate the authoress' computer? And what was with all these questions? There would be hell to pay.
"Lady Sarah, of the Labyrinth?" The High Queen placed her index finger to her bottom lip in a small smirk. "So this is the lone mortal who bested you Jareth?"
Jareth's smirk quickly shriveled and replaced itself with a frown. Sarah pulled away from her father and stepped back beside her best friend. "My Queen, do not blame Jar-, King Jareth for his failure of stopping a young mortal girl from running the Labyrinth and completing it within thirteen hours," she paused a smirk appearing on her face, "We all knew he could never win against me," she said dangerously.
If possible Jareth's frown grew as the crowd nodded in agreement chuckling at the poor king's expense. "Ah, Lady Sarah," Calillia smiled sweetly, "it is good to have you back. You and my son were, ah, the comic relief in more than one dreary occasion…although it was usually at another's expense," she added looking her in the eye sternly.
"My Queen, you're intellect matches your beauty," Sarah bowed.
"Don't try to butter me up, Sarah," the lady who had grown to love Sarah as a daughter spoke even as she played with her golden hair, her soft blue eyes dancing merrily.
Jairo frowned, although his cobalt blue eyes sparkled with forgotten mirth. Both he and his wife had forgotten how they used to feel when Sarah was around, and how she made her son feel. Neither missed the fleeting smile Jareth quickly suppressed whenever Sarah joked with his parents. It had been so long since they had seen him smile, a true smile that touched his eyes. They knew his anguish and why he hated the courts, even if he didn't know himself. They would have given anything to see their son smile and laugh instead of always sulking around his castle. They could still see the pain in Jareth's and Sarah's eyes, and it caused them to wonder how much they remembered. By the way the two young Fae were not yet screaming at them they figured it was not much. Thankfully. Perhaps…just perhaps, with Sarah here to wear down his edges, they might have their son back for a little while. Jareth and his father had been close when Jairo was still Goblin King, sure, they got into spats, but they loved each other. But…with Sarah gone it crumbled apart. Jareth showed nothing towards his father except scorn and contempt. He knew something was wrong, even if he didn't know exactly what that 'something' was. Jareth, who once prided himself on looking like his father, now scowled whenever someone said they had a resemblance. Jairo's hair, once the near-platinum Jareth's was, was now turning silver due to age and stress. Of course, you try being centuries old and keep your natural hair coloring, Fae or not. Jairo scowled mentally at his (much younger) wife who had the same hair color she had when their marriage was first arranged. Cheater, he thought somberly.
"Your Majesties, I fear I've stolen all attention from your ball to myself. Forgive me," Sarah apologized, beginning to fidget under all the stares she was receiving.
Jareth, sensing he discomfort, came to her aide. "Yes, father, I have failed to see the punch bowl. I'm dreadfully parched," he added with an evil glint in his eyes. "Might you point out where you have it located?" he asked slipping his hand into his jacket pocket noticing his father's pointed glare. But his father got the message.
"Yes, I do believe we were beginning a dance when you two entered." Jairo clapped his hands twice, and music began. "And Jareth, keep away from the punch," he added threateningly thinking to a past experience when his son and his best friend were dressed similarly.
Jareth smirked seeing Sarah do it in his peripheral vision. He then turned to her bowing courteously. "May I interest you in a dance Fair Sarah?"
Sarah smothered a giggle as she curtsied. "My good sir, it would be an honor." Stepping into his arms Sarah very nearly gasped as his hold tightened protectively as he spun her into the dancers. Snapping her eyes shut she refused to think about how similar this felt to the time when she was just fifteen and had just taken a bite out of a peach…
Noticing his dance partner's distress he kissed the top of her head before murmuring, "You need not worry; your brother is safe in the Underground."
"I know," she replied, "I know. But, for a moment, I was fifteen again and you were not my friend," she whispered looking up into his eyes.
Grinning devilishly Jareth plunged her into a more crowded part of the dance floor causing more than one couple to glare at them. Would they never grow up, they would mumble. Sarah bit her lip to keep from smiling as they danced roguishly, feeling like a couple of kids of again. Suddenly Sarah's knees gave out as a memory of her dancing with Jareth flashed before he eyes. She was older than she usually was in her memories, and she was looking up at Jareth with wide eyes, similar to how she would when she would dance with him in another life. Grunting with the pain she righted herself as they continued to dance.
"Sarah, are you alright?" Jareth asked into her ear.
Sarah, for some strange reason unbeingknownst to her, felt a flutter in her stomach as his breath brushed past her ear. She nodded though as the pain subsided, for the most part. "Yeah. Yes, I'm fine," she muttered leaning her head on his shoulder for support. "Just this damned memories."
"Strange, I usually receive the memories when you do," he murmured thoughtfully staring off into space for a moment. "What was it about?"
Sarah felt her cheek grow warm. "Erm, no-nothing important," she stuttered pulling away and seemingly concentrating on dancing. After a second's pause, when she felt Jareth's lips part, she interjected interrupting him before he could speak. "If you say 'tra la la' you'll make me wonder if the reason you haven't entertained women if because you prefer the opposite sex."
Jareth scowled. "And what, pray tell, do you mean by that?" he asked in a near hiss.
"Puh-leaze! Glitter, tight pants, saying things like 'tra la la' and 'swell'? Who wouldn't think you were gay?" Before Jareth could comment though the song changed and Sarah felt a tap on her shoulder. Turning around she stared into eyes as black as night. She winced as pain laced through her mind but the memory left almost as soon as she came and she saw nothing but blurred images.
"Volke," Jareth hissed his arm still tightly wrapped around Sarah's waist.
"Ah, King Jareth, what a pleasant surprise. I did not expect to see you tonight," the young man smiled, which looked more like a sneer. His hair, the same darkness as his eyes, fell to the nape of his neck in slight curls surrounding a pale face, although it looked tan compared to paleness of the Fae. Sarah was quickly able to ascertain that this man was not of the Sidhe, his appearances looking more masculine than the tautness that Sarah was accustomed to. His sharp teeth, visible when he smirked, was also different that that of the Fae. Sarah involuntarily shivered when his cold eyes drifted to her face. "And I don't anyone expected to see Lady Sarah…conqueror of the Labyrinth." His night eyes slid back to Jareth's glaring form. "You should keep your Labyrinth under check if a mere mortal could best it."
This, of course, caused Sarah's unease to morph to anger. "Number one, 'Fonzy'," she growled, "The Labyrinth is its own entity that deserves more respect than some hillbilly like you shows it credit for. Number two," she continued as she felt Jareth tense in surprise behind her and the man before her tense in indignant shock, "I am not just some 'mere mortal' so watch your tongue or I'll have to watch it for you," she hissed threateningly. "And number three," she concluded with a sneer and a glance at the skylight above them, "it's a full moon out so shouldn't you be off trying to be intimidating?"
Jareth and Volke stared at her in amazement, one thinking along the lines of 'That's my girl!' and the other 'Why that little…!' Sarah, meanwhile, was standing with arms crossed glaring at the Lycan before her not caring that more than one pair of eyes was on the three of them. She turned to Jareth, silently asking to continue their dance momentarily 'forgetting' that Volke had come over to ask to cut in. Jareth smirked obliging.
After a few moments Sarah asked, "Who was he?"
Jareth huffed glaring at nothing. "That miserable piece of Lycan was Prince Volke of the Lycan Realms. He is heir to the throne but his father stubbornly won't die. For years it has seemed like the Banshee should be sweeping him off to Death, but Zihark doesn't seem to want to comply," he added with a wiry smirk. "This is something Volke is not to fond of. You must understand, Volke is nearly the same age I am…give or take a few hundred years. After seven hundred we don't keep the exact dates anymore."
This caused Sarah to pause almost making Jareth trip. When they began dancing again Sarah asked, "Exactly how long have I been gone?"
"I'm afraid I don't know the specific time, but it would be close to a century," replied Jareth thoughtfully. A roguish grin crossed his lips. "Actually, it has only been seven years."
Sarah scowled up at him. "I meant how long since I was 'Sarah'...er, this is getting confusing." Letting out a groan of frustration she rested her head against his shoulder again trying not to think of the Jareth smelled. "It seems every conversation I'm involved in lately is confusing. Sometimes I feel like I'm talking to the old Wise Man again! Man, is he old!" Sarah exclaimed smothering her giggles in Jareth's collarbone. Suddenly her giggles subsided and she lifted her head up to stare at Jareth with wide eyes. "'Sometimes the way forward is the way back'?"
Jareth looked at her like she was going crazy. "What in the Underground are you talking about?"
"Jareth, don't you get it? The Wise Man told me 'sometimes the way forward is the way back' or some rubbish like that, or at least I thought it was rubbish when I was younger…but don't you see? He was right!" Jareth raised an eyebrow having navigated her off the dance floor and to a secluded corner where they could discuss this without having everyone staring at them. "To go forward I had to go back! This is back! I had to; or rather have to relive my past life in order to have a future! I had to come back to the Underground because this is where it all began! It took me seven years to get it, but I finally got it! My future is in my past!"
"Sarah, you happen to have eaten a drugged peach on your way over here did you?"
"No, I--" Sarah stopped herself what Jareth said sinking in. She glared at him hitting him on the chest. "Oh, shut up! You know that ever sense your little 'distraction' I hold a firm distaste for peaches. I used to love them, I blame my past life, but thanks to you I have given them up," she replied coldly crossing her arms. "I can't even smell one without going crazy!"
"'Going'?" the Goblin King asked playfully. "My dear, I thought you already were?"
"I have to be to be best friends with you!" she retorted. "Now, if you excuse me, I'm going to find my Da." And with that Sarah pushed past Jareth smirking as she scanned the crowds for her father. She needed to speak with him; she needed to know exactly what happened to her mother. Refusing to think about the last time she was at a ball and trying to find a certain Fae she maneuvered through the crowd until she saw the familiar face of her past father staring hard at her. Smiling she quickened towards him.
"Sarah," he breathed when she stopped a foot before him.
"Da," she replied almost soundlessly. Looking down for a moment she bit her lip before turning her moist eyes up to him once more. "I've missed you."
"I thought I had lost you forever. It is…strange to see you here once more. You look so much like your mother," Tiernan whispered.
"I look like both of them," she nodded sadly. "Except Linda has my eyes."
"I assume Linda is your mortal mother…of…this life?" Tiernan's voice sounded a bit edged.
"She may have given birth to this body, but looking back on it all I don't know how much of a mother she was. Mam…" Sarah paused clearing her throat, "Mam and I were so close. She…she never left me. She was there when I needed her…for the most part," Sarah added sounding just a little accusing. Tiernan winced. "I don't remember much Da, but I plan on remembering all. Then again, if I don't…this magick that caused all this," she said indicating her self in this life, "will kill me. And I choose life. I don't…I don't want to cause the pain from my death to my friends or family again. I have more, now. I have a little brother," Sarah laughed a little, although it was an empty sound. "Little Toby."
"This is the boy you…wished away?" When Sarah nodded sadly he ran his gloved hand over his face. "I can't believe you wished away a child."
"Yeah, well, I can't believe you…" again Sarah paused, then she just stopped stroking her chin in deep thought. Shrugging she smiled up at him. "Actually, there is nothing I don't believe," she replied her smile turning into a smirk. "Especially the way you raised hell whenever someone ridiculed mortals. Ah, a pissed of Fae is not something to be taken lightly."
"Neither is a pissed off half-Fae," her father returned the smirk. "Do you remember what you did to your archery instructor when he commented on how you couldn't be blamed for how poorly you did? What did he say again; 'it was bad blood'? Hmm, I still believe he has the scar," he chuckled.
Sarah's hand unconsciously went to her gluteus maximus. "You mean that old git is still alive?" She asked in disbelief. "Man, I forgot how old you people get. Crazy bastards."
"Sarah!" her father admonished. "Such language from a lady!"
"Da, have you forgotten the way Mam spoke whenever she got mad?"
Both paled considerably.
"Ai, that I do." Suddenly her father's face saddened.
"Da, what happened to Mam? I know she wasn't Fae, and so she couldn't live forever…but…" she trailed off waiting for her father to pick up the cue.
"Ah, well, I was able to extend her life far beyond that of mortals, but her own mortality mixed with the grief of loosing her only daughter seemed to put too much of a strain on her. She died at barely three hundred and forty-nine. A few months before she would reach the half-point of seven hundred," he sighed sadly.
"Father, how old was I when I died?"
Tiernan shook the question away with a sad look in his eyes. "There are questions I want to answer, but I cannot. You must find the answer to your past yourself; you and Jareth both."
Sarah thought he looked so dejected standing there with an uncharacteristic slouch to his posture. "Don't be afraid Da, I will find the truth," she said softly placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.
Tiernan looked up his face reminded Sarah of a lost, abused puppy. "I think that's what saddens me the most," he whispered barely audible over the din of the music.
Taken aback Sarah frowned. But she needed to push away from these sad topics. "Da, will you dance with me…like old times?"
The Fae's face twisted slightly. "I don't know if the huge clodhoppers you call feet will fit over my petite ones anymore," he said his face looking serious but the twinkle in his eyes belaying his joking manner.
"Just hope my 'clodhoppers' don't smash your 'petite' feet while we're dancing," she scowled although it was clearly evident a smile was twitching at the corners of her mouth.
"My Lady," Tiernan bowed extending a hand.
"My Lord," the brunette half-Fae responded stepping into his arms as the music swelled around them welcoming the stray child home.
Man, how many chapters is this ball going to take up? Hopefully only one more.
And there are supposed to be questions unanswered…but I suppose you will still ask anyways…so whatever.
Love, Peace, and Chicken Grease all.