Chapter Twelve

Sarah

For my true love is a man

Who never existed at all

Oh he was a beautiful fiction

I invented to keep out the cold

- Blue Caravan, Vienna Teng

September 28th, 2002. Day 11 of the quarantine

Sarah woke surrounded by an incredible warmth. She sighed and sank deeper into the feeling, her fingers wrapped in long strands of silver-gold hair.

Eyes still coming into focus, it took her a moment to register where she was. She thought she was in the Underground for one panicked second, but a car honked on the street down below, and she relaxed.

Dreams plagued her all night, showing her Aldric, Jareth, her friends Rhonda, and Brock, all in various states of danger. She had to help them while they screamed at her to hurry. And it had morphed into her standing alone in a wide field ringed by pine trees. The earth was shaking, but not like an earthquake. Like footsteps. Jareth's hand had slipped into her own, and they were dancing. Dancing while something enormous crashed through the forest toward them.

Whatever it had been, she never saw, and now the details of the events were slipping out of her mind like sand through splayed fingers.

Something tapped her shoulder, and she lifted her head, hair falling in a gentle wave across her back. She was pressed against the Goblin King's side, one leg was thrown over his and his arm around her, hand curling near her waist. His other arm was flung up over his head. She frowned and looked around.

Something tapped her shoulder again.

Sarah jolted upright, and Jareth startled awake. "What is it?"

"Something keeps touching my shoulder," Sarah said, and the sensation returned as she spoke, making her whip her head around. Nothing was there.

Jareth's head fell back on his pillow, and he pressed his forearm over his eyes, scowling. "That's Aldric. He's summoning you." His other hand gestured lazily to the opposite wall, where the fireplace was. "I'm sure there's a portal around here somewhere."

The tapping continued, the breaks between growing shorter. She brushed at the spot with her fingers, and the skin jumped under her touch. "Rude," she groused, sliding from the bed. She wore an oversized t-shirt and underwear, still not entirely comfortable being nude around Jareth. He had no such issue. Naked, his eyes still covered, and his legs spread a little, the only thing he sported was the pendant. As she looked, she let her gaze linger lower, a flush spreading across her cheeks at the sight of his stiff cock laying long against his hip.

Touching him last night had been exquisite. He burned so hot, the splash of his seed almost searing her skin. Her core turned liquid as she imagined what it would be like to feel that heated weight between her thighs. She squeezed them together now, and Jareth chuckled.

"You're staring."

He had not uncovered his eyes. Sarah stuck her tongue out at him and turned on her heel, ignoring the incessant taps on her shoulder. An ornate gilded mirror hung in the hallway where one had not been before, the mirrored surface shimmering like a mirage. When she passed it, the scent of ozone came sharp to her nose. She quickened her steps and slipped into her bedroom, shutting the door behind her.

Yesterday she had prepared her outfit and a small backpack of supplies. She did not want to eat or drink anything from the Underground, and the day before the heat in Aldric's tent had been uncomfortable, drying her throat. A silver and glass carafe of clear water and two goblets sat on a table near her the entire four hours, but she never touched it.

The backpack held two bottles of water, granola bars, tampons, a sewing kit, a blank notebook, pens, and a small assortment of other odds and ends she thought she might find useful. The sort of things she might ask to borrow from a trusted friend, but would be reticent to ask for from a tricksome fae.

Sarah dressed quickly in flared jeans and a floral, layered blouse, then popped into the bathroom before giving the mirror in the hallway another long look. Jareth padded toward her. He had thrown on a pair of pants, but the top button was undone, and they hung extremely low on his hips, drawing her eye. He smirked, his walk turning into a swagger. "Still staring?"

"Shut up."

"You can do more than look, Sarah. You can touch."

Heat filled her face again, and she lifted her gaze to his. "You're incorrigible."

A warm laugh came from behind her, and Sarah whirled, finding Aldric looking out through the mirror. "She has you there, brother."

Jareth went still, stopping within her reach. "What are you doing? If you slip—"

"I'll be stuck with the two of you. Wouldn't that be fun? Never fear, brother, I mastered portals while you were still in your swaddling clothes."

Lips pulled back in a snarl, Jareth took a step forward. "Even for you, this is too great a risk to take. Go back."

"Not without Sarah," Aldric countered, then turned his attention to her, his expression warming. "It's time."

"We never established a set time for me to visit you. It's still morning. I have all day." She frowned at him. "Impatient?"

"When it comes to you? Always. Come now, Jareth is going to be apoplectic if I don't leave soon. Do you see his face? Oh, he hates me." Aldric grinned and extended his gloved hand, stopping shy of the shimmering surface of the mirror. "Take my hand."

Jareth's gripped her fingers before she could respond and tugged her to his side. His breath was against her skin a moment later. "Never trust him," he whispered. "Never. Please."

Sarah nodded and gave his hand a squeeze. "I'll be fine."

He nipped her ear, and she resisted the urge to shiver. "Be smart."

She pulled out of his grip and took a deep breath, facing the mirror and the waiting fae. His head was tilted to the side a little, as though he were considering something of great importance, but he flashed a brilliant smile, crooking his fingers.

Sarah stepped up to the mirror and slipped her hand through the surface. Aldric's hand closed over hers an instant later, the grip strong but not bruising. The next thing she knew, she was in that strange pressing darkness, and they were in his tent, and the sound of the camp was loud around them.

The tent was much the same as it had been yesterday. A solid-looking bed, wide enough for several people, took up one corner, but most of the space was taken up by an enormous table that had been empty when she was here last, but now had a spread of maps upon it. The book she had been reading was on the table by the bed, not where she had placed it next to one of the wide leather camp chairs.

Gloved fingers squeezed hers, and she turned her attention to Aldric. "I have a surprise planned."

Sarah studied him. He dressed all in black today, the silver of his talisman brilliant against the inky fabric. His copper-brown hair curled a little at the ends and did not have Jareth's extreme layers. She was struck by the desire to touch it, to see if it was as soft as his brother's. She pulled her hand out of his grip instead. "What is it?"

Aldric flashed a smile. "A surprise. Come."

Leading her through the tent flap, he walked them through his war camp. Sarah had only seen it in flashes in the mirrors Jareth had raised and heard it while she was here the last two times.

It was like a miniature town, but all the citizens were out and interacting with one another—most tents rolled up to show their shaded interiors. Soldiers dressed in red armor—some a gleaming metal, others dull leather—and strode side by side with what Sarah presumed were friends and family. Regular-looking people, except there was a prevalence of mismatched eyes and sharp smiles. They had an otherworldly quickness to them, a way of moving which exuded a liquid grace. But more than half looked human.

The breeze blew dry and hot, glittery dirt hard-packed beneath their feet. The air smelled of ozone and sweat, roasting meats, and the sour tang of ale. High above, an eagle screamed, and in the distance, she could hear the occasional battle cry from dozens of voices going through their drills.

There were cook tents and dining tents, blacksmith tents, general merchants, and rows and rows of barracks. While the atmosphere seemed oddly festive, there was still a rigid undercurrent of discipline. None of the soldiers slouched, and they were ever-observant, their gaze finding Aldric as he moved through the aisles between tents, and drifting to the mortal walking behind him. They would often stop in their tracks and salute their leader with a fist across their chest, but they quickly relaxed as Aldric passed by. By contrast, when they saw Sarah, they either displayed open hostility—bearing their teeth and hissing as she passed—or they looked intrigued.

She quickened her step, gripping the straps of her backpack so tight they creaked in protest. Glancing at Aldric, she caught him looking at her, an amused smile curling his lips. "What?" she asked.

His voice was a velvet caress that made her shiver even under the hot red sun. "I merely enjoy seeing you come to my side. Willingly."

She almost dropped back again at those words but gritted her teeth. "Yeah? Well, don't read too much into it. They're not giving me the warmest of welcomes."

Aldric chuckled, low and seductive, and her palms began to sweat. "There are so many rumors, and many of them are about you and my sworn enemy. You did come to negotiations with his power draped over you. I could smell it. So could they."

They neared the edge of the camp, where a line of spikes and ditches separated the tented city from the wilderness beyond. Outside the bounds of the camp, scraggly bushes and twisted, wind-bent trees slowly gave way to a sparse forest, limbs reaching high into the air. It was in this direction that Aldric took them, mounting the slight rise, sweat beading at her forehead and dripping down her back as she went.

They walked in silence, Sarah losing herself in thoughts of what Aldric had said about the rumors, and if she felt entirely safe around the strange soldiers. The line of her thinking moved to the night before. Of Jareth's breath upon her skin. The way his chest rumbled like thunder when he growled, and the searing heat of him as he slipped—

"There," Aldric said, interrupting her thoughts. She glanced at him, and he was pointing toward a break in the trees, right at the crest of the hill they had been slowly climbing. "Come. I've already lost more than an hour of your time."

Sarah flushed. "Says the man who wasn't around when I was here yesterday."

"Ah, but war waits for no one, dear."

She blinked at the endearment but decided not to comment. "You're not going to war for a few weeks, at least."

Aldric laughed as they broke the line of trees and strode through the broad meadow. "Is that so?"

Sarah stopped walking, narrowing her eyes at Aldric as he turned, his head tilted in a way so similar to Jareth that she blinked, taken aback by the family resemblance. "We have a deal. You're not allowed to strike at Jareth until after the quarantine is lifted. That's why I'm here."

"Bold of you to assume that Jareth is my only concern," he said. "Where do you think you are, Sarah, my dear? Do you truly believe that the Labyrinth would be my first or solitary conquest?" He strode the short distance between them, and she backed up a step, but he slid right back into her space. She swallowed on a dry throat, eyes widening. "That is how rare you are." He raised a gloved hand and traced the air around her face. He radiated heat against her sweat-cooled skin. "I would sacrifice much for you."

Sarah's mouth fell open for a moment before she withdrew several steps. This time, Aldric stayed put. When there was a good few feet between them, Sarah let out the breath she had been holding. Her voice came out sounding a little hoarse. "What are you playing at?"

"Play? This is not a game. Or if it were, it would be of the highest stakes imaginable." He gestured her to follow him, turning as he did so. "This will help explain things."

They reached the top of the hill, a bald crown encircled with trees, their coiling branches reaching high. Sarah gazed out and saw the Labyrinth, looking like a massive stone fingerprint against a scraggy, windswept prairie, a tiny castle visible at its heart. Her heart squeezed at the sight. That's where he means to take me, she thought. That's the future Jareth holds for me.

She shuddered, and her stomach soured at the still-fresh memories of the night before. She glanced over to Aldric, who gave her a broad smile, then held out his hand. "Just the tiniest bit further."

Sarah ignored his offering, and he shrugged, turning. And what is it that Aldric wants? What is the real goal here?

When Aldric stopped, Sarah almost bumped into him, still entranced by the vision of the Labyrinth. She sidestepped him and glanced over to find a stormy expression on his face. Startled, she looked to where his gaze was locked and let out a little gasp of surprise.

Before them were two marble statues, about five feet tall. They depicted women who appeared to be twins and, upon further consideration, also reminded Sarah of the man by her side, and the one waiting for her back home.

"He would not bring their bodies back home," Aldric said, his voice little more than a murmur against the warm wind, and laced through with a venom that made her move a bit further away. "He said they died here, so they would be buried here." He swallowed, his throat moving with the motion. "We have an empty tomb at the Seelie court. One of the reasons I'm here is to bring them back to their proper resting place. Not here, on this gods-forsaken hill overlooking the kingdom of their betrayer, but to where they can be properly respected and remembered."

"Your sisters," Sarah said, remembering what Jareth had told her before. Faerie is not a forgiving place. "You started a war to get your sisters back?"

Aldric scoffed, mismatched gaze finding her. "I would have torn the world down to keep them safe and alive. What do you think I would do to the person who killed them?"

Sarah gasped, hand to her throat. "Jareth? You're saying—"

"That your suitor and housemate is a murderer? Yes." He motioned at the statues. "My sisters, Kieryn and Reganne, were older than me by only thirty years. They were twins. Do you know how rare twins are among the fae, dear Sarah? Kieryn held her breath until Reganne was born, then they cried out together. They did everything as a unit, including setting their sights on the hidden magic of the Labyrinth."

"Hidden? What do you mean?" She glanced between the vision of the Labyrinth in the distance and Aldric.

Aldric closed his mismatched eyes for a moment and leveled his stare on her. "Two hundred and fifty years ago, the Labyrinth had been a crumbling ruin for over a thousand years. Any who attempted to conquer it were never heard from again, though the rumor persisted that at the very heart of the grand structure was a power greater than any other that could be found in Faerie. My sisters believed, as many did, that as twins, they were blessed by the gods. They studied the crumbling texts and histories of the Labyrinth. No one knows who built it, or why, or the reason they abandoned it so long ago. The flora and fauna of the place are like nothing that can be found in any other part of Faerie." He gestured toward the twisting stone walls. "And until my brother conquered the Labyrinth, no one had seen any of the goblins that live within. Now the things are like cockroaches." He scowled. "When I kill my brother and take his power, they will be the first things to go."

Sarah felt her face grow cold.

Aldric continued on, seeming not to notice how pale she had grown. "Kieryn and Reganne planned their expedition for over a century, but they still acquiesced when their baby brother wanted so badly to go with them, even though he had done none of the preparations. He was not blessed like they were." His voice went soft. "I still don't understand why they let him come. He was no more than fifty. Barely past the age where we come into our first flush of power. Jareth." He bared his teeth. "He killed our mother, too, you know. Killed her coming out. Our sisters never blamed him. Raised him as their own, even. Perhaps that is why they brought him along.

"There were dozens of us there to see them off. The last time I ever saw those two alive was seeing their backs as the doors to the Labyrinth closed behind them. They didn't look back. They were probably too confident of their future success." Aldric took a deep breath, his gaze caught and locked on the statues. "Thirteen hours later, there was a ripple through the area. The ruins rebuilt themselves instantly, becoming something like what you can see now—and I thought my sisters successful. I waited eagerly with others of my family and my kind, watching the front gate. But it was only he who emerged. The only one alive, at the least."

"What happened?" Sarah asked, unable to help herself. "What happened when Jareth was in the Labyrinth with your sisters?"

Aldric shook his head and took a step toward her. "The only thing he said was that it was his fault. Other than that, he never spoke a word. I would have killed him right then, at that moment, but my father stopped me. He was so obsessed with the new magic, the power coming off of Jareth, that he refused to do anything even though my brother confessed to Kieryn and Reganne's deaths." A smile curved his lips. "But father died some years ago. No one dares stand between me and my revenge now."

Silence fell like an anvil, and Sarah's throat tightened, looking up into Aldric's face. "How do I know you're telling me the truth?"

"Would a compact help? You have one with my brother, do you not?"

"I'm not going to enter into another agreement with you. You've already got me here four hours a day." Plus, she thought, I'm not going to be forced into kissing another fae man. One was enough.

"You need do nothing," Aldric said. "I will simply swear to it." He put a gloved hand over his chest. "I swear upon my heart's blood, I will always speak the truth to you."

Ozone was sharp in her nose a moment later, and a pressure crested and snapped, making her ears pop. Sarah gasped, feeling the pull of the spell now. A question tumbled from her lips before she could stop it. "What you just told me about your sisters, about Jareth, was that true?"

"Every word of it." His eyes seemed to burn. "You can feel the truth of that, can't you?"

Sarah nodded, for it was true was a bone-deep certainty she had come to expect from Jareth's own answered questions. "You wanted nothing in return. Why?"

"Because it is enough you know I'm honest. Because I want you to trust me, and I do not want to rely on tricks and deals to win your affection." He lay a gentle touch on her raised chin. "I can see it in your spellwork. You owe him something if you lie or refuse to answer a question. Isn't that right?"

"How can you see that?" She stammered.

"Do you think I came to command armies by accident, sweet Sarah? I am here because I know more about magic and its subtleties than almost any other warrior now living. There are songs sung in my honor in the Seelie court. My name will go down in history along with some of our greatest heroes."

Sarah moved back a little, out of his reach. "That's a hell of an ego."

"It is a fact. Jareth, on the other hand, is an outlier. He hasn't been seen at the Seelie court in over a century. His allies are few. He keeps entirely to his own small circle other than gifting wished-away infants to the High King and Queen. The only reason that no one has come after his kingdom before now is because I have laid claim to it." He closed the distance between them again. "Jareth killed my sisters. He took the power that was meant for them and hoarded it for two hundred and fifty years. That is who you kiss when you let him kiss you."

She flushed hot. "And you're telling me that you've never killed anyone? You're a warrior, you said, surely you have blood on your hands."

"Oh, plenty, and you tell it true. I have killed. Many times. But none of those who died at my hand were innocent like my sisters. They—" he made a frustrated sound, and his voice lowered enough Sarah leaned in a little to hear him. "Most fae have darkness inside of them, but not Kieryn. Not Reganne. They were pure. They delighted in knowledge and philosophy, and poetry. They danced like mist will dance along the surface of a still lake. When they were lost, the entire Seelie court mourned." His gaze went back to the statues. "They should have been buried there, with full honors, next to mother. No one comes here. They should be somewhere they can be seen."

There was real grief in his voice, and Sarah reached out without thinking about it, placing her hand on his arm. His attention snapped back to her, and she withdrew, stammering yet again. "I'm sorry, I—"

Aldric pulled her to him. She bounced a little off his chest before both his arms were around her, wrapping her in a warm embrace. When he spoke, she felt it as much as she heard it. "Thank you. I've never told this story to another person before. Everyone knows."

Sarah relaxed a little, feeling the truth in his words and, tentatively, put her arms around him in return. It's a hug, she told herself. Nothing more.

After a few more heartbeats, Aldric pulled away, and Sarah did the same, tucking her hair behind her ear and looking anywhere but at him. It was just a hug. Her stomach felt queasy, as though she had done something wrong. She folded her hands across her chest, looking out to the Labyrinth again. "So, no one knew about the goblins until Jareth?"

"No one," Aldric agreed, and started walking again, moving along the periphery of the trees, his posture relaxed. The wind rippled at his loose shirt, plastering it against his body to show off his lithe figure. Sarah grabbed a bottle of water out of her backpack and downed half of it in one go, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Aldric watched her while they meandered, a smile tugging the corners of his lips. "You know, you can trust the food and drink I provide you are not going to send you into delirium."

Sarah gave him a sidelong look. "Forgive me if I bring my own supplies."

They chatted a little more as they walked, side by side, down the hill and back to the camp. They skirted around the subject of Jareth, though her head reeled with the possible implications of Aldric's story. No wonder the people here hated her if they thought she was shacking up with a murderer. Sarah found herself growing more anxious, the closer they got to the sounds of practice drills. Aldric stopped her with a few fingers on the back of her hand. "If it bothers you too much to walk through the camp, I can will us directly into my tent."

Sarah cast him an exasperated look. "You mean you could have transported us the entire time?"

"I thought you could use the stroll. You are holed up in that small apartment day in, day out. I've been involved in sieges. I know how difficult confinement can be." He said this in a matter-of-fact voice, his hand slipping away from hers.

Sarah blinked and realized, upon reflection, she did feel better. A few hours in the woods—even a strange, windswept one—had been a much-needed diversion. It had been days since Jareth last made an aisling. Days since she had seen much outside the canvas walls of tents or the same beige-colored walls of her apartment. She took a deep breath of the clean, warm air. "Yeah, if you could transport us back to your tent, I'd appreciate it."

"Of course," he said, taking a step toward her. She immediately took one back, and he frowned at her. "I have to touch you for this to work. And I promise I will not harm you while you are under my care. There is no need to flinch from me."

Her cheeks burned again, but she said nothing and did not move when he stepped toward her again. He lay a hand on her shoulder, and, between one blink and the next, they went from standing on the sparsely treed hillside to the cool dimness of Aldric's tent. Sarah blinked against the gloom, her eyes taking a moment to adjust to the tent's dim interior. It was cooler within than it was outside, and she felt some of the sweat on her neck, cooling in the still air.

Aldric kept his hand on her shoulder for a long few moments before letting it drop. "It's nearing the end of the fourth hour. You are almost free to go home."

"How soon?"

"Another twenty minutes."

She was standing too close to him. Embarrassed, she moved away, slinging her backpack onto one of the leather camp chairs. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, and she knew Aldric was watching her. His presence was far too intense not to be felt. She cast about for something, anything, to talk about. She glanced back at him. "How did your father die?"

Aldric blinked, but took a seat on the edge of the large table, arms folded over his chest, and said, "He faded. It's what happens to fae that reach a certain... end. When there is nothing left they strive for. When there is no other reason to live, they don't."

Sarah felt gooseflesh erupt down her back. "You can just decide to die?"

"Yes. Can't you?"

"Not like that." She rubbed her arms, feeling chilled. "I can't even imagine."

Aldric continued to regard her, and she was finding it increasingly difficult to ignore his gaze. "And what of you? Your father, your mother, siblings?"

Sarah let out a huff of laughter. "My mother abandoned my dad and me when I was little. I was eight. It took him years to get over it, and then he met Karen. He and Karen had Toby, my little brother, who's turning eighteen in... god, in just a week. Poor thing. He's stuck in Russia, and dad—" she stopped herself, realizing with a shiver that she was falling for it. If Aldric was trying to gain her trust so he could find leverage over her, she had just handed him a massive pile of information. She finally met his eyes, her own widening. "I—"

"There's no need to fear me, Sarah. Gods, I can hear your heart pounding from here. Calm down." There was a hint of exasperation in his voice.

She narrowed her eyes. "Listen, I don't know you, but I know enough about the fae to know that I made a huge mistake. You don't need to know anything about my family."

"I disagree." Aldric slid off the table and approached her, his gaze intense. She gulped as he stopped out of reach. "There is much and more I would do for you, dear Sarah. Tell me, what ails your father?"

Her eyes widened even more. "What? How did you know?"

His smile was wicked. "I guessed. You ceased talking quite suddenly just as you mentioned your father, and you were talking about something bad from the lead-up. It seemed only logical."

Sarah cursed, hugging herself.

"Come, come, Sarah. I can help. Tell me what is wrong, and we'll work to fix it."

She closed her eyes, remembering her father's pale, pained face. Remembering she could do nothing to help her father while quarantine remained in effect, and he had a penchant for overdoing it.

His whisper was like a caress. "Tell me, Sarah."

The words were slipping from her lips without conscious thought, rushing from her like water. "My father had a heart attack. The doctors say he's going to make a full recovery, but having one heart attack is a prescription to a second or a third. It's how his father died, and his brother."

Silence draped over them for a moment, and Aldric's velvet voice said, "I could fix it for you. Your father will still die one day, but I can guarantee it will not be through fault of his heart. It will beat sound until the moment he draws his last breath."

Sarah sucked in a breath of her own and lifted her gaze to his. "Truly?"

"It is within my power, if—"

"I knew it," she hissed, cutting him off. "This is going to be another bargain, isn't it?"

"I ask for so little," Aldric insisted. "Just another hour, and only for the length of our original bargain. One more hour of your time, Sarah, and you can guarantee your father need never suffer through such a thing again."

She chewed at her bottom lip, shaking with fury that she had allowed herself to walk into this trap. Jareth had warned her. Warned her, and yet—yet, if she accepted his proposal, it would only be another hour, and only for a few weeks. That was nothing when it came to fixing a human heart. She swallowed on a dry throat and croaked out, "Fine. I agree."

Aldric grinned and made a sweeping gesture with one arm. "It will be done, my lady." He bowed a bit, bringing him closer to her, and she turned away. Sarah shrugged on her backpack, the twenty minutes up any moment if they weren't already. Her stomach in knots, she did not look at Aldric until his hands came down on her shoulders, thumbs brushing against her neck. "Remember what I told you," he said, his voice soft and earnest. "He is not what you think."

"And you are?"

His smile was slight. "I will never lie to you. And I will never keep an answer from you. Is that not respectable?"

Sarah did not respond, and a moment later, the portal mirror shimmered into existence on her right. She stared at him. "Let me go."

Aldric's hands dropped from her shoulders, linen-clad fingers brushing against her neck at the last moment, making her shiver. She glared at him, at the self-satisfied smirk he flashed her, before turning and striding through the hazy surface of the mirror and through the other side into an apartment bright with mid-morning sunshine.

Jareth moved toward her, concern clear on his face. "What's wrong? What happened?"

Sarah bit back a sigh of frustration. When it's not one, it's the other. She wanted to have a little time to herself, to think. "Nothing," she said, trying not to think how she would have to explain the longer-than-average disappearances into the Underground. And if she were honest, it wasn't her new bargain with Aldric that was twisting her stomach into knots. It was what Aldric had told her about their sisters. I didn't even know their names until today. Jareth reached for her, and she pulled away. "I need to put this down," she said, lifting her pack. "And I'm going to take a shower."

There was a flash of hurt in his eyes, but then his mouth firmed into a hard line. "Of course, precious."

Sarah skirted by him and ducked into the bedroom first, dropping off the backpack and gathering her things before hopping into the shower. She felt Jareth's gaze on her back as she moved between the rooms, but ignored him.

She took her time under the hot spray, scrubbing the dirt and grit from the Underground off her body before standing there, unmoving, until the supply of warm water finally petered out. Sarah stared at herself in the fogged mirror for a long time, hair dripping down her back and hands clasped before her, holding the towel closed over her chest. She stood like that as a knock sounded on the door, soft at first, and louder when she did not answer.

When Jareth opened the door, a rush of cold air made her skin erupt into goosebumps. She shivered even as Jareth put his hands on her shoulders, mirroring the position she and Aldric had been in the moment before she left. She looked up into those mismatched eyes, blue and brown, and wanted to slap him. Or kiss him. She wanted to shake him to demand answers, and she wanted him to hold her.

Jareth brushed her shoulders like he was dusting her off, and she felt warm fabric around her body, and the soft swish of hair against her back. She glanced down and found herself in a pair of black lounge pants and a long v-necked shirt that hugged her figure. She was not wearing a bra or underwear, and she could feel she was no longer damp from the shower. The towel was neatly folded on the rack once more.

"Come with me, Sarah," he said, voice and touch gentle.

She let him lead her out of the bathroom, bare feet meeting at first the hardwood of her hallway before stepping onto slick cobblestones. Glancing up, Sarah saw something that took her breath away. "Paris," she said. "You have an aisling for Paris?"

"Just this small corner café, here," he gestured toward a sea of tiny two-seater tables. "They have the best macarons."

Sarah felt a smile tug at her lips. "I hear that fae love their sweets."

"Indeed, we do. Or, at least, I do. Here," he pulled a chair out for her. "Sit down. We'll have a feast and talk about whatever you like."

She hesitated, but took the offered seat, and leaned in a little when he brushed the back of his fingers against her jawline. Then she looked at the table and saw not only the promised macarons, but every type of French pastry she had ever seen on TV or in those cooking magazines Karen had gotten for her. Madeleines, opera cakes, chocolate croissants, canelé, mille-feuille, and Tarte Tatin crowded for space on a three-tiered dessert plate. The smell of it was fantastic, and Sarah felt her mouth beginning to water. She had not touched the granola bars in her backpack, and it had been a long hike with Aldric.

Jareth helped himself to a canelé and two macarons, then motioned to Sarah. "Eat. Or would you prefer something more savory? Coq au vin? Bouillabaisse?"

"This is fine," she said. "I'm just not sure where to start." She reached for a chocolate croissant, then changed her mind and went for the Tarte Tatin. "I haven't had some of these since I visited France after college." She cut a bite of the tart and closed her eyes in bliss as the caramelized apple melted across her tongue.

Jareth watched her, and he seemed to be trying not to make a show of it as he tucked into his own meal. For a while, they passed the time in silence, Sarah looking around as she ate. Blackbirds and pigeons occasionally graced the sky, and the sun was near set, casting them into an indigo twilight. But this twilight never faded, never changed. It was quite unlike the aislings where there was a long spread of ocean or jungle. It very much felt like an intimate place, despite the dozens of empty seats beside them.

Sarah sighed and set her napkin across the pastry. Part of her was still hungry, but another part of her was in knots over her new knowledge of Jareth's sisters. She looked up to him, and he gave her a slight smile. Might as well come out with it. "Aldric took me to your sister's graves today."

Jareth went preternaturally still, a bite of food halfway to his lips. "Did he now?"

There was a dangerous gleam in his eyes that made Sarah want to squirm in her seat. How did someone talk about this sort of thing? "He told me his version of the events that lead to Kieryn and Reganne's death. I want to know your side of the story. I know you have one."

He flinched as Sarah spoke their names, dropping his plate back on the table with a clatter. "I don't speak on it," he said. "I've never talked about it to anyone."

Sarah's chest grew heavy. "I'm not just anyone," she whispered.

Jareth closed his eyes for a moment, then took a deep breath. "It doesn't matter, Sarah. I don't talk about it, and I won't talk about it."

"Don't do this," she said. "Don't shut me out when all I have are Aldric's words ringing in my head. I don't want to believe what he says about you is true. I don't want to believe that's the person you are." She reached for him across the table, her hand an entreat. "Please, Jareth."

His eyes flashed open, then narrowed. "You know he's doing this on purpose, don't you? He's telling you the darkest secrets of my life, hoping to pull you from me. And he won't settle for simply taking you away from me. He'll want you for himself."

"I know," Sarah said, hand still resting on the table between them. "But even if he's doing that, he's still telling me something about your past. I know nothing about you, Jareth. You don't talk about your life, not really. At least Aldric—"

"Don't," Jareth whispered. "Don't you dare compare me to him."

Sarah's mouth shut with an audible click, and she withdrew her hand. "What happened with your sisters, Jareth? That's an official question."

He scowled at her then rose, his chair flying back at the motion. "I'll only tell you that he's right. They're dead because of me. I will never deny it. But as for your question, I refuse to answer. Name your task."

Sarah stood as well, arms crossed over her chest. She cast her gaze around, then pointed to the open storefront of a grocer. "Count the grains of rice in that bag there," she said, pointing toward a twenty-five-pound sack.

Jareth's scowl deepened, but he swept past her, heading for his task.

Sarah watched him for a moment as he opened the bag and poured its contents into a conjured cauldron, then sat on the ground cross-legged near it and began sifting through the individual grains, eyes flickering as he rapidly counted each one. Sarah turned and found the gap in the aisling where her hallway entrance opened up and went straight for her bedroom.

Sarah collapsed backward onto her bed after putting on Jagged Little Pill at full volume, careless of the neighbors. Arms spread out to either side, she looked at the swirling patterns on the plaster of her ceiling.

Counting the rice should take Jareth most of the day to do. And it served him right.

Sarah rolled onto her side, clutching a pillow to her chest. Pretending her chest wasn't tight. Pretending that tears were not burning at the corners of her eyes.

I thought if he could tell anyone, it would be me.

Hello everyone!

I was going to upload this on Friday but I just couldn't wait. I may have outlined the whole fic the other day, and things may be going a little quicker than normal because of it. Maybe.

That's all I'm going to say on that subject.

I hope you enjoyed this. Please remember that reviews are AMAZING and help motivate writers to write :)

Xoxo,

CrimsonSympathy