CHAPTER SIXTEEN
At a tremendous rate, a bundle of white and tan feathers plummeted towards the ground amidst the maze.
Sarah instinctively knew what paths to take. Deeper and deeper, she travelled into the Labyrinth. She was alone, not having bothered to waste time telling anyone where she was going. The deeper Sarah progressed through the twists and turns, the faster her feet flew. She encountered no obstacles, and before long, she apprehended she was close to her destination. A few more corners, and there Sarah located her target.
Jareth was lying in a crumpled, bloody heap on the stones of the Labyrinth. Sarah rushed over to him, dropping straight into a kneel to ascertain if he was still alive. What she saw was nauseating. His hair was all burnt off, and he had scars, blood and burns marring his face. His clothes were all in tatters, and whip marks crisscrossed every exposed part of his skin. Sarah swallowed the rising bile and gently tapped him on the shoulder.
"Jareth?" she tapped him on the shoulder again. He was unsurprisingly unconscious. Sarah took a deep breath before she rolled him over onto his back. She stuck her hand under Jareth's nose, relieved to feel hot air against her skin. Sarah watched his chest for a while to confirm he was breathing. She exhaled, rubbing her palm against her sweaty brow. How was Sarah going to transport Jareth to the castle? Sarah didn't want to leave him there while she left for assistance. She prepared to roll him into the recovery position when he regained consciousness, albeit gradually.
"Sarah," she heard him utter, barely audible. She tore her eyes off his chest to look into his red, swollen eyes. There was no blue to be seen.
"Jareth, I need you to turn into an owl if you can, so I can carry you to Gilo," she ordered, as his bloody and battered hand lifted slightly towards her.
"You're still here," he croaked, sucking in lungfuls of air as that one little sentence caused him to cough and splutter, specks of blood flying out with the phlegm.
"An owl, now please," Sarah commanded. "If you have the strength."
"I have so much to say-" he rasped. "To you."
"And you will get a chance, Jareth," she growled. "I will still be here, as I have no choice. Now please stop wasting time, and turn into an owl or I am going to have to leave you to get help."
'Or drag your sorry arse back myself,' she thought acerbically. Jareth's eyes wavered before closing again. She cursed out loud but paused before uttering an entire string of profanities when he finally obeyed, transforming into an owl. Sarah ripped her cloak off, scooping up the battered, mangled owl, cradling Jareth in her arms with the wrap for warmth.
Sarah headed back to the castle, again knowing which path to take. She was slower on the return journey, not wanting to joggle Jareth too much. His owl-eyes peered up at her, without blinking, which after a while became a little disconcerting.
"Stop staring," Sarah muttered as she glanced down to check on his respiration. He clicked his mandibles feebly at her when his owl-eyes seemed to notice his medallion hanging around her neck. Jareth's eyes widened in response, before flicking back up to Sarah's face. She gritted her teeth and accepted that he was going to stare at her the entire way back home.
'Home?' That was a new thought. One that she shoved back into the deep recesses of her mind. 'Home' was where Toby was, and that was the end of that. Sarah could step down from her role as the Queen Regent, with the King being back, alive. Once he was healed, and she had vented her spleen against him, she would demand that he found a way to return her to Toby.
Sarah looked down at the pathetic, bloody mass of bent, torn, and broken feathers held like a babe-in-arms. Of course, he was still watching her with an indecipherable look on his owl face. She sighed and pulled him tighter to her chest. He briefly blinked at her before he snuggled deeper into her.
"You're much preferable as a barn owl," she told him as they finally approached the city. Jareth remained still and quiet, with his eyes solely on her. "You're at least not able to lie to me."
Jareth made a rasping sound before his black eyes fluttered closed. Sarah watched his chest rise and fall, and with relief, marginally hastening her step. She bypassed the city relatively quickly. She ordered a goblin in her path to summon Gilo and Prince Sevlydi.
"Yes, Queenie," the goblin responded, scuttling off through the darkened streets. If she hadn't been the Queen, these dark passages would have shaken her resolve. At the goblin's use of Sarah's new title, Jareth's eyes darted open to gawk at her again. She cleared her throat, glaring determinedly in front of her. Jareth responded by making the raspy noise once more and then settling back into her arms. She hoped he didn't think she wanted the role or sought to usurp him. However, as soon as she had that thought, it gave Sarah a fleeting moment of smug satisfaction to let him believe she had seized his power and throne.
"Queen Sarah?" Sevlydi's voice travelled down from the castle's main front door. Both him and Gilo raced down towards her. "A goblin summoned us, is everything fine?"
"Jareth," Sarah raised the bundle slightly to indicate his location. "I found him."
It was too dark to see the expressions on their faces, but they both burst towards her instantly.
"It's an owl," Gilo said as he approached. "An injured owl, but how do you know-"
"She knows," Sarah could tell Sevlydi was grinning by the moonlight glinting off his teeth. "It's him, isn't it?"
"Yes," Sarah let herself be guided towards the castle by Gilo, gripping her elbow. "I asked him to turn into an owl as I believed that was easier to carry than his fae body. Gilo, he is a bloody, burnt mess."
"Fair call, Your Majesty," Gilo responded. "Let's get him in bed and start healing him, shall we?"
They remained silent until they reached Jareth's chambers. Sarah lay the owl down in his bed, leaving her cloak underneath him. Gilo rushed into position, to tend to his master, while Sarah backed away. Seeing what Jareth had gone through to ensure her safety, brought up some very conflicting emotions. She needed to be angry with him for his betrayal, but how could you confront such a weak, pathetic creature in his current state? As she watched Gilo and Sevlydi fuss over their king, he transformed back into his non-avian state.
Jareth turned his head to look at her as she retreated towards the door. His red eyes looked worse in the light of the fire, candles and lanterns than the moonlight she had first discovered him in. Purple bruises rimmed the bloodshot eyes. His hair singed off, and the scars, deep and unforgiving reminding her that there was a cost to trust. Her stomach roiled at the sight of his mangled body. He coughed violently, a trickle of blood raced down the corner of his mouth to drip onto his silk pillows. Sarah watched it with morbid fascination.
Sarah observed his raw, blistered hand limply move as if Jareth was trying to reach for her. She swallowed as she took in his look of agony stamped across his face. Was it the pain of moving, or the pain that she would not go to him that he wore? Sevlydi gave her a hardened stare before Sarah retreated further. Jareth winced, shut his eyes and seemed to fall unconscious again, as she left through the open door.
Sarah needed fresh air after seeing so much damage to her villain. She sought to clear her head, and then when she got a few things straight, she would return to his sickbed. Sarah did hope in earnest that it was not his deathbed.
The two men had worked diligently on healing their king, that much was apparent when Sarah reentered the room. Jareth was out cold. But he had been cleaned up, and bandages with salves applied to all his burns and scars. Gilo informed her that he had taken his dosages of healing potions and over the next few days, as he took more medicine, and had his dressings changed, he would be right as rain. The healer took his leave with a low genuflection.
Sarah stood awkwardly, as she took all his words in, nodding when appropriate. Sevlydi washed his hands in a basin, never taking his eyes off her. He approached her, gently resting his hand on her shoulder.
"Thank you, for how swiftly you rescued him," his eyes swam with emotion. "Gilo admitted that he would not have survived had you not been so quick."
"I did what I must," Sarah looked over to the injured fae, asleep under reams of linen wraps. "Tell the goblin, Grygiel, to announce the return of their King."
"Your Majesty," Sevlydi swooped low, before also taking his leave. Sarah took a seat near the King to watch over him as he slept. Until he was conscious and able, she would still hold the crown, but she wasn't going to risk anything happening to him until she could return his medallion, or bestow her ire.
Sarah had drifted off. When she awoke, Gilo was tending to Jareth's wounds. Sarah set about immediately assisting him, taking up the job of cooling him down with a damp sponge.
"What do you think happened?" she asked, her voice croaky from just waking up.
"He has been burnt and struck with enchanted whips," Gilo theorised. "The flames and the whips both are wounds unhealing."
"But you can heal them?"
"Yes, but the wounds would have been magically kept open and painful, never healing, while they added more damage to him," Gilo clarified. "They also kept him cuffed with iron to weaken him and dampen his magic. And I have noticed imp bites all over him, and they are painful, poisonous and slow to heal. It's a miracle he lived through all of that."
Gilo indicated the welts surrounding his wrists and around Jareth's neck, and pointed to some tiny holes in sets of two, all around his arms and neck.
"He escaped somehow," Sarah bit her lips. "Will his hair grow back?"
"Your- er- Majesty, it is the least of our concerns," Gilo admonished.
"Not the least of his though," Sarah dabbed gently at his hair with the sponge Gilo had offered her. She'd imagine he would be more distressed about his hair, than his skin. It was singed from the fire almost to the scalp in places, matted and torn in others. "But surely his hair will grow back."
"Indeed it will," the healer agreed. "He will be left with nary a scar on his entire body."
"Why is he not conscious?"
"Despite all the potions and balms, the King has suffered poisoning from the magic, and the iron they used to bind him," Gilo expounded. "It has left him very weak."
Sarah left Jareth to Gilo's attention, while she freshened up in the bath, changing her outfit to something more comfortable. Upon returning to Jareth's chambers, she took up a book and read throughout the day. Goblins brought her meals, and she would only put down her book to attend to Jareth with Gilo or to occasionally glance at the unconscious male. By the afternoon, Sarah dozed in her armchair to reconcile her deficit of sleep the night before.
The next day passed in the same fashion. Sevlydi appeared frequently but only ever glanced at her before sitting with his brother. On one occasion, he remarked on her constant presence.
"As Queen Regent, it is justified and expected that I watch over the King," was all she offered in explanation, jutting her chin out defiantly. She could hardly justify to herself why she was always here, let alone to the Prince. He, at last, had stopped seeking answers at the bottom of wine goblets.
Jareth looked much better than he had been, with fewer bandages, and his open wounds no longer festering and were starting to close. The burns had diminished to patches of red skin, blister-free and smooth. His eyes, while she couldn't see if they were bloodshot, had at least returned from purple, back to his typical skin colour. Gilo and the goblins had dressed Jareth in a fresh nightshirt. They had thrown the scraps of the outfit he had worn to the ball in the rubbish.
Late on the third day, Sarah was arranging some flowers in a vase with her back to Jareth's bed. She had brought her music crystal with her, so she was currently singing softly along to Madonna's 'I'll Remember,' as she snipped the ends off the stems, before sliding them back into the water.
Inside I was a child
That could not mend a broken wing
Outside I looked for a way
To teach my heart to sing
And I'll remember
The love that you gave me
Now that I'm standing on my own
When Sarah was twenty-two and staying with her family, over Christmas, Karen would sing this song almost daily. The lyrics hit her then as poignant for the love she found for her step-mother and her half brother, but now the song had more meaning since Karen's death.
I'll remember
I learned
To let go
Of the illusion
That we can possess
Sarah admitted that a double meaning could exist since returning to the Labyrinth. She could never forget the lessons she learnt or the friends she made. A little tear tried to squeeze it's way out of her eyes as she listened to the last words of the song. Sarah missed Karen, now more than ever.
Now I'll never be afraid to cry.
Now I finally have a reason why.
"Sarah," a croaky voice interrupted her singing. Sarah spun around, dropping the secateurs. Jareth was lying in his bed, his hand shielding his eyes from the morning light, but conscious. Without saying a word, she darted out of the room to retrieve Sevlydi and Gilo. Fortuitously, a goblin scampered down the corridor ahead of her.
"Cookie," Sarah called. The goblin halted and spun around. "Fetch the Prince and the Healer. Immediately."
Sarah returned to his chambers, with more caution. Jareth was trying to sit up, causing Sarah to swear and rush over to him.
"Lie back down," Sarah instructed, not looking him in the eyes.
"Sarah," he groaned, as Sarah plumped up his pillows. "I am sorry."
"Gilo and Sevlydi are on their way," Sarah interjected. She wasn't yet ready to hear what Jareth had to say. While Sarah had been concerned for his well-being, it had been infinitely more straightforward to care when he was unconscious. Conscious, Sarah's pride and sense of wrongdoing were back at the forefront, not to mention her self-respect. No self-respecting woman should fold or bend to another's whims just because of the mortal danger they had experienced, even if that mortal peril was on her behalf. It may lessen her scorn, but would not, and should not eliminate it thoroughly. Gratitude, yes; forgiveness, not yet. But she guessed there was now potential after what Jareth had done for her.
"Sarah," he tried again.
"Save your strength, Your Majesty," she said levelly.
"You're alive," he gasped. "They told me - they told me you were dead."
"No, I am very much alive," she moved back to the vase she had been tending, stopping the music ('Tainted Love' did not fit the tone or the current mood). She picked up her secateurs and turned back to him. "And you're very fortunate to be so, as well."
Jareth looked like he was about to say something else, but Sevlydi rushed in at that moment.
"Brother," he knelt at this bedside. "You're awake."
"How long have I been gone?" Jareth asked, tearing his eyes away from Sarah to Sevlydi.
"A fortnight Jar," Sev rested his head against his brother's arm. "We couldn't find you. What did they do to you?"
"They tried to capture me," Jareth swallowed, his voice strained. Gilo entered at this time and in a flurry began to administer water, and other elixirs. "Once Sarah's safety was assured, I stopped impeding them with my magic. By rights, I was so weakened they should have found capturing me easy. But they still could not touch me. I am hypothesising that the Labyrinth's magic is stronger than theirs. So we fought. I won. I destroyed their fort and injured the Pinnsburrs."
"And then where did you go for two weeks?" Sevlydi asked, frowning.
"I was flagging and had lost my medallion in the fight," Jareth explicated, briefly turning his eyes onto Sarah. "I took flight into the foothill forests. I was re-captured while resting and secured in a cage, by unknown captors. Then I was tortured for days by creatures who were not the Pinnsburrs."
"What happened to the Pinnsburrs?" Sevlydi questioned. "I imagine your second captors had enough power to hide you from our scrying attempts."
"Injured, but not dead," he answered through gritted teeth. "Where they went after I blew up the fort, I know not."
"How did you escape your second captors?"
"I am unsure," his shoulders slumped, and his head fell back into the pillow. "I was in my cell, awaiting the next session of torture when suddenly I was flying over the Labyrinth, but in my depleted state, I could not sustain flight."
Sarah caught her lip between her teeth. She had wished for Jareth, and he had appeared. Had her magic started manifesting once more? Had she rescued Jareth by a mere wish? Surely if it was that simplistic, Sevlydi could have wished for Jareth's freedom just the same. The Medallion seemed to thrum in response to her questions. Her hand reached up to grip on to the crescent-shaped pendant. Sarah was about to admit her theory before Sevlydi stood up suddenly.
"Why on earth did you let yourself get captured, you idiot?" Sevlydi growled.
"You know why," Jareth and Sevlydi both flicked their eyes to Sarah who still stood there simultaneously gripping onto the secateurs and the medallion, her mouth agape.
Sevlydi cleared his throat and turned back to his brother. "There is a lot we need to discuss, but perhaps you need to rest first."
Gilo nodded enthusiastically, while Sarah deposited the gardening scissors on the table, preparing to slip out.
"I need to talk to Sarah," Jareth tried sitting back up.
"You need rest, Your Majesty," Gilo warned. "And Her Majesty can talk to you when you are feeling a bit more yourself."
Sarah flinched, as Jareth's ice-cool blues swept over her, from her face, down to the medallion. She straightened under his gaze, not one to cower, nor feel shame for the situation she had no control over. She was obliged to be the Queen. She didn't choose this. Without a word, she strode out of his room, followed by Sevlydi and eventually Gilo.
Jareth had dozed back off after everyone had left him. He woke to see Sevlydi sitting next to him.
"Have you left my side at all, brother?" Jareth asked him, with concern.
"It wasn't me that barely left your side," Sevlydi confessed. "It was the Queen."
"The Queen - " Jareth coughed. "Did you marry her, Sev?"
"No, Jar," Sevlydi sighed. Jareth didn't think he would ever marry his wife from underneath him, but stranger things have happened. "Would I do that to you?"
"Pray, tell me, how is she the Queen?"
"She picked up your medallion when we followed your pearl to your location," Sevlydi shrugged, before inspecting his nails. "The goblins and the Labyrinth both chose her, and so she has reigned as Queen Regent for two weeks. At first, we suspected you had chosen her to rule, but consulting the goblins, and then the elder elves, we learnt differently."
"And she accepted this happily?"
"No."
"But yet, she is still here," Jareth inhaled deeply.
"She is compelled," Sevlydi grimaced at Jareth's rising hope. "The magic of the Labyrinth and the medallion compels her. You know this."
"She saved me, Sev," Jareth allowed himself a weak smile. "She carried me in her arms to safety."
"She doesn't want to rule, Jar."
"She didn't leave my side, you just said-"
"Jareth, she selfishly wanted you alive so she can return to her normal, boring life," Sevlydi said sharply. "She knows that you were Terry, and she is unforgiving. Do not build up any expectations."
"I traded my life for hers," Jareth tried shifting his body but quit when the pain increased. "That has to mean something to her."
"You're a fucking idiot," Sevlydi muttered. "Why didn't you just tell her? Then this could have been avoided."
"I tried," Jareth scowled. "But then I was interrupted by a goblin announcing that you needed me urgently."
"Oh, I am not going to apologise for that," Sevlydi stood up with irritation printed on his face. "If you hadn't have bothered with this entire ruse, I would never have put Rica in the precarious position he is now situated. You had more than one opportunity to tell her the truth."
Jareth closed his eyes. He had a lot of atoning to arrange. "What would you have had me do?"
"You should have just married the mortal and wooed her as you went," he curled his hands into fists. "You would have had a challenge, but you wouldn't have brought all this attention to yourself, for avoiding Forsythia."
"Sarah would never have agreed to marry me without force, or magical compulsion," Jareth growled. For all his scheming, he didn't want to have to stoop to forcing her to marry, via bribery. "I wanted it to be her choice."
"And you think she will choose to marry you now?"
Jareth knew Sevlydi was right. She would be more than a little irritated that he had pretended to be Terry.
"After all your deceit and trickery, you are now further behind than you were to start with," Sevlydi continued. "You will end up married to Forsythia, regardless of your feelings now."
"I still have a chance," Jareth muttered weakly. Fatigue was making his tone petulant and possessive. Mine, the voice in his head kept repeating when he thought of Sarah. "She forgave Hoggle, and she may yet forgive me."
"There is no time," Sevlydi produced a letter, placing it next to Jareth on his bed. "Nudalun and Omre are very displeased with you. They have informally announced your planned engagement to Forsythia. She is to be Queen, and you are to cut the mortal loose. If you don't discard her, they will do it for you. They will be here very soon to sign the contract for you to commence courting."
Jareth's face paled. "No."
"I didn't want to tell you while you are recovering, but it's the truth," Sevlydi retreated to his chair with slumped shoulders. "I am sorry, Jar."
"How can they just engage me to someone against my will?"
"Because you have ignored their orders to marry," he reasoned. "Because you flaunted Sarah in their faces, you shall marry Forsythia. Because the Pinnsburrs captured you- showing the Underground that you are vulnerable, you shall marry Forsythia. Because you are showing weakness, you shall marry Forsythia. Because the Queen Regent is a mortal, you shall marry Forsythia. Need I go on?"
"None of that is reason enough."
A surge of resentment rushed through him that his perceived weakness was Sarah. He had been so bullheaded with his plans to get Sarah to marry him, that he hadn't considered how the council and his family would use her as collateral to get what they wanted. He knew their distaste for mortals was intense, but he also knew their aversion to him was just as powerful. His mother had a mortal ancestor after all. The whole situation was frustrating as it was confusing.
"Welcome, to Navas rule," Sevlydi responded with a sardonic grimace. "You can't marry for love and nor can I."
Jareth couldn't believe it; he had fought life and limb to rescue Sarah, only to find himself about to be engaged to someone he couldn't tolerate. Sevlydi was right about the ridiculousness of Navas Rule. Sarah had once mentioned absurd Aboveground laws she had encountered in her previous occupation. Her job had involved fighting for injudiciously disadvantaged people. At this point, he came to appreciate her penchant for fairness.
"You have no idea who the captors were after you broke free from the Pinnsburrs?"
"They weren't the Pinnsburrs," Jareth took the letter Sevlydi had placed beside him. "They sent Vile-Brownies to do the torture, but I have no clue as to their masters."
"Would Nudalun and Omre have been involved?"
"Having me placated and beaten into submission would suit their purposes for controlling the Labyrinth," Jareth growled. "How long have I got until the formal announcement of my engagement?"
"Half a year, of course," Sevlydi answered. A Royal Navas wedding, started with a half year-long formal courting period, before the betrothal declaration, followed by a half-year of engagement before the official nuptials.
"So I have time," he sunk back into his pillow. If he had to go behind his family's back and marry his champion in secret, so be it. He would have to convince her to do so, but at least he still had a slither of hope. It also consoled Jareth that even if he married Forsythia, she could never claim the title of Goblin Queen. Not now that Sarah had claimed her rightful title during his absence.
"You're a liar," Sevlydi addressed the Queen Regent as she paced up and down the corridor outside the throne room.
"Excuse me?"
"You insist you do not want to be Queen, but you lie to yourself as well as to everyone else," he hissed. "You enjoy the power, so stop with the hypocrisy by berating Jareth for his lie, when every action you take, is a lie against your very nature."
Sarah laughed. "Even if what you said was true, the lies would still not cancel each other out, Sevlydi."
"Stop lying," Sevlydi stalked off without a backwards glance. "It's time to take up your destiny, Your Majesty."
The throne room was an unmitigated disaster zone. Sarah sat upon the throne, tapping her foot impatiently. Hopefully, she wouldn't have to rule this rowdy bunch for much longer. Over the past few days, Jareth had started gaining strength. She had successfully avoided him, but Cricket had told her he could now walk with the aid of a cane. Jareth had repeatedly asked for an audience with her, but Sarah was not willing. Her hesitation was not just over the Terry issue, but Forsythia too. Not that she had a claim to Jareth's affections, but seeing them at the ball about to kiss, repeated in her mind, like a slideshow. She did not want to admit to envy.
"Queenie, the jhirl has reappeared in the west quadrant," ChipChop announced as he read the daily report.
"OK," Sarah pinched the bridge of her nose. "Find the closest rock-caller, and see if they can fix the wall that keeps letting the jhirl into the Labyrinth. Deliver two cart fulls of turnips to the vicinity. Then ask the gardeners to plant some more turnips around the marsh to keep them from wandering in. If they have more food, they may stop trying to seek it elsewhere."
"Yes, Your Majesty," Chipchop scampered off.
"How did you know jhirl only eat turnips?" came a smooth, baritone voice. From the shadows of the throne room, came the king, limping with the support of a carved silver cane, producing a resonant metallic tap with every second stride. His eyes fixed onto hers, and Sarah had to resist the urge to scramble off his throne. Instead, she straightened, raising her head, so she was looking down on him. Her gloved fingers tapped impatiently upon the arm of the throne. Wearing such supple leather gloves had become an addiction. She understood why Jareth always wore a pair.
"Your advisors have advised me," Sarah answered, returning Jareth's dark stare. His hair was still badly butchered, but his face was almost perfect once more, except one scar slashed across his brow and cheekbone.
Your solution was a practical one," he stated, watching the goblins as they retreated from his unusual stick. They probably thought it was something with which he would use to hit them. They wouldn't be wrong. "Your advisors complement you well."
Sarah didn't quite know what to make of his statements. Jareth acknowledging her Queenship was astonishing. She nodded in response, and then dubious about her next move, she stood. Should she now defer to the Goblin King, or should she continue? She masked her uncertainty with the veneer of confidence.
"Session has ended for the day," she announced loudly, before stepping down the dais. Jareth inclined his head to her as she swept out of the room. On the outside, she was cool, calm, and collected, but internally her nerves were flaring, and her guts and circulatory system were raging rivers of unease. She heard the tapping of his cane as he followed her.
Sarah made her way to Jareth's study, approaching his desk but not sitting. He entered after her, closing the door.
"You make a brilliant Queen of the Goblins," Jareth said as he faced her. Sarah blinked but set her jaw, keeping her mouth drawn into a tight line.
"Am I so very repulsive, Sarah?" he asked. Sarah recoiled at the open honesty in his question. "You won't even look at me."
"You think me shallow enough to be swayed by someone's outwards appearance?" Sarah shook her head. Jareth raised his upturned brows, causing the scar to gape and stretch.
"You're still angry with me?" he asked, one brow lowering, the other rising.
"Still?" Sarah laughed without mirth. "You deceived me."
"I did not know you cared so very much about Terry to feel so strongly," Jareth raised upturned hands to display his sincerity.
"Bullshit," she took a calming breath. That was the only emotional outburst she would allow.
"My intent was not to harm you, Sarah," he reasoned. "I know I have a lot to answer for, but it was never about revenge."
"Why?" Sarah was losing control of the situation. She had led him here so she could return his necklace and pearl, before departing for Ghent. Hopefully, avoiding this confrontation that was weeks, maybe months overdue. She inhaled. Sarah Williams was not a coward; she would face this conversation with aplomb. "Why did you do it then?"
"Can we sit, please?" his bare hands gripped the knob of the cane tighter as he pleaded with her. Sarah complied, guiding Jareth to two comfortable armchairs in the corner of his study. Sarah wasn't quite ready to relinquish the command of the situation, by suffering him to sit behind his desk, while she sat opposite him.
Once they were both seated and comfortable, Jareth twirled his cane between thumb and finger. Sarah watched the depression forming in the worn rug as he fiddled with the stick. She waited for him to be the first to talk.
"I would like to thank you for discovering me, and returning me so promptly to the castle," he finally said. Sarah nodded but refused to look up from her study of the rug. "It was more than I deserved, but there is no-one I would prefer to owe my life to, than you."
Green eyes collided with blue, but tension hung heavy between the two. Jareth held out a hand. In his palm rested a decorative flower from her hair the night of the ball.
"Hogspit - Hoggle - gave me this the night of the ball," his long fingers enclosed around the flower again. "To remind me of what I had lost and for what I had to die fighting. Trust is precious and fragile, and this replica is no substitute. It did keep me focused on enduring their trials. Would you like it back?"
A shake of the head.
"You want to shout at me," he said. Sarah would prefer to get this over and done with by yelling at him, rather than this strained politeness. Again, she couldn't find the words to answer him. She just blinked and knitted her brows at his statement. "Shout at me if it will help you feel better. I'd rather your forthrightness to your apathy."
Sarah rubbed her nose, glancing away from him, as she collected her thoughts. Weeks of having imaginary arguments with Jareth had still left her ill-prepared for the reality.
"Have you enjoyed your time as Queen?" he asked, trying another tack. Sarah flicked her eyes back to him, shifting in her seat, and cocking her head.
"Queen Regent," Sarah stipulated, quietly. It was only a temporary gig, but she could still feel the compulsion of the Labyrinth within her. Her work was not complete. Maybe it would cease when she removed the chain. She tugged discretely at the cord, but it remained clasped and unmoving.
"And did you enjoy it?"
"Of course I didn't," Sarah said through clenched teeth. "I never wanted the job. I certainly didn't ask for it. And as soon as you are ready, you can have the damn thing back."
Jareth's hands on his cane stilled. "Sarah, I-."
"Your Majesty," Sarah cut him off, coldly. "I am exceptionally pleased that you have returned and have recovered your health. I will be leaving the Castle as soon as you are capable of resuming your duties. I will not hold you to any promises made before the ball in regards to the offering of a job. I respectfully decline, but I thank you for the opportunity extended to me."
If Sarah had to pick a single word to describe Jareth's expression while he listened to her talk, she would select 'confounded'. His mouth gaped open, and his brows had dissolved into the remains of his burnt flyaway hair. Sarah wished she started this entire interaction with frosty aloofness, instead of the emotional outburst she'd preceded with, earlier. She should never have asked him why he betrayed her. It only served to reveal her vulnerability and showed him that she cared. Sarah's goal was indifference. In another life, her ambition was to be an actor. It was time to save face and act her heart out.
Before you decide to flee, we should speak together," he rationalised. "I have yet to tell you why I did what I did."
Sarah indicated, offhandedly that he should proceed, before leaning back in her chair. It wasn't too late to reclaim some emotional ground.
"Sevlydi recognised you from my descriptions at the parade," Jareth began. "He went back to Ghent to find you and establish that you were my- that you were Sarah, the Champion. Once he ascertained that you were who he thought you were, he took me in disguise to see you. He didn't want to cause a stir with our public personas, and I didn't know where he was taking me."
Jareth started twirling his cane again, watching her face intently. He took a deep breath and continued.
"When I saw you, and you didn't see through my glamour, I was suddenly desperate to see you as genuine as you undoubtedly were. I saw your authentic self, and I admit, it was addictive. You were also seeing me in a positive light. As the King, you only saw me as your villain, but as Terry, I was your friend. Sevlydi tried to make me quit it early on, but I stupidly thought I could win you over this way. It was manipulative and a betrayal of trust."
He closed his eyes and exhaled. "I was a coward. I didn't own up to what I was doing, and when I saw the damage it - I was doing, I decided to have Terry hurt you, instead of admitting my wrongdoing. I have led a somewhat lonely existence, and it made me reckless."
"I see," Sarah had been right at least about understanding that his dire need for company, had driven his treachery. It wasn't an excuse, but at least a reason.
"I was at least self-aware enough to never take advantage of you physically," he went on. "I was lost in you, in the genuine you, without the defiance and the loathing you save just for my sake. It was selfish and cruel. In my arrogance and pride, I overlooked how you felt, and would feel if you knew the truth."
Hearing him speak of his faults, plainly and honestly, stirred something in Sarah, but she wasn't ready to make nice just yet. "Interesting that you drew that line in the sand."
"I have some scruples, Sarah," he flexed one of his bare hands. "Though, I daresay not as many as you think I should have."
"I think you have been very self-serving," Sarah retaliated. "And while I understand your reasons, I can not condone them."
"I have, you are right," he cleared his throat. "I had less pride as Terry. I could apologise to you like it was nothing. Can you believe that I became jealous of Terry, of myself? I wanted Terry to disappear because I had grown tired of the ruse. It was self-indulgent of me yet again because I wanted you to want me, not Terry. The closer you got to Terry, the more I resented him. I could pretend my reasons are noble, but in truth, I didn't want to share you with someone I could never be."
Jareth lapsed into silence, a hand over his mouth, his eyes guarded. Sarah knew, with her issues of pride, that it took a lot for him to confess his flaws. The Goblin King had many layers to him, and Sarah was just starting to discover his hidden depths. Jareth's arrogance and his cruelty may have been a facade, but Sarah couldn't deny that those elements penetrated his many other layers to some degree. She bit her lip and resumed studying the pattern of the rug briefly, before firmly raising her chin to meet his brazen stare.
"I should have had more faith in you," he grimaced as if in pain. "I should have known you could forgive me for the past, and not tried to trick you into trusting me as I did. Instead, you hate me more, and I've made forgiveness impossible. I will regret what I've done until the day I pass over. However, I won't ever regret loving you, Sarah. Not now, not ever. I did what I did because I wanted your love, untainted. I was foolish to think that I could have something so pure, when in the end, having your love despite our history would be so much more valuable."
Sarah flushed red as she tore her eyes away from Jareth. He had admitted he loved her, and to just throw it in amongst his monologue, without warning, made her more than a little tense. Sarah was troubled, not merely because she mistrusted Jareth's veracity, but he applied it as a justification for his hurtful behaviours.
"Will you not say anything, Sarah?"
"What can I say?" Sarah shrugged. "All of this explains one aspect of your contemptuous behaviour, but it doesn't explain Forsythia and your kiss."
"Kiss?" Jareth frowned. Sarah swallowed. Admitting that she cared about their kiss, would be tantamount to declaring she was jealous. What happened to not showing him any more vulnerabilities? "Sarah? I -"
They were interrupted by a knock at the door. Jareth groaned as Sarah rose to answer the door. It was Sevlydi.
"Is my brother in here?" he asked.
Sarah indicated that he was. Sevlydi swept past Sarah with no further acknowledgement.
"Your fiance is here," Sevlydi announced to Jareth. "Forsythia Pinnsburr and her parents are here to accept your proposal to court her."
When Jareth looked up to explain to Sarah, she was gone.
Winding paths and twisting streams encapsulated the garden Sarah found herself in. She had discovered this small walled garden, complete with large, enveloping trees, with small grassy glades during her reign as Queen Regent. She avoided the garden with the 'owl and pearl' carving like the plague, these days. This garden, on the other hand, was the only place the goblins seemed to leave her alone. She sank into a nook of vines and branches, strong enough to take her weight.
Sarah could no sooner count the leaves in the trees above her than she could make sense of her feelings regarding Jareth. Her vow of remaining emotionless had all but been thrown to the wind when she had to bring up Forsythia. And then to discover he had proposed courtship to her, let those dark feelings of suspicion to seep back in. Her feelings had been mere sport to him. Despite having risked and nearly ending his life to save hers, perhaps Meffod and Yarbro had been right about Jareth seeking revenge against her.
It still didn't make sense that Jareth had risked his life for her. That would throw her into a quandary again, knowing that the revenge theory fell apart with that heroic act of rescuing her. Unless it was regret, but then why engage himself to that fae, if he had intentions towards her? And what of the Pearl theory? As ludicrous as it was, it suddenly became something of an anchor for her thoughts.
Jareth had, after all, confessed he loved her, but that could just be manipulation on his part. She wouldn't put it past him. To concede he loved her but then propose a courtship of Forsythia, was another string in his bow to entangle her feelings.
Her thoughts were distracted by the voice of Cricket, who was calling her. With a sigh, she rolled out of her refuge and revealed herself to the kind goblin.
"Your Majesty," Cricket bowed. "You are wanted to greet your guests."
She rolled her eyes. Sarah highly doubted she was required, and she didn't desire to be around any company, but she channelled her inner Queen, following the goblin indoors, with her head held high.
The door to the throne room was open when Cricket left her there. Taking a deep breath, she strode through the entrance to see Jareth sitting in his throne, with Forsythia on her knees afore him. Behind her stood two pointy blonde faes, resembling Meffod and Yarbro, with minor differences. She assumed these were Forsythia's parents.
"Ah, here is the Queen Regent," Jareth's crisp blue eyes found her as she marched into the chamber. Forsythia didn't deign to turn around, but the two parental figures condescended to cast a disdainful glance in her direction. "As the current reigning monarch during my convalescence period, I suggested that you ought to be here."
Sarah drew up to her full height but remained closed-lipped. Jareth tapped his fingers atop his cane as he waited for a response and when he garnered he wouldn't receive one, he looked down upon Forsythia again.
"This is Miss Forsythia Pinnsburr and her parents, Lady Alutoieru and Kweko Pinnsburr," Jareth waved his hands in their direction. "And this is my Queen Regent Sarah Williams-Hi'livé, my Champion of the Labyrinth and my Ambassador."
Sarah wanted to roll her eyes at the number of times he said "my" but remained stony-faced and distant.
"Miss Pinnsburr here is to be my wife, according to the magistrates of the High Court, my brother and sister, and even my dear father," Jareth's voice was clear, but Sarah almost detected the hint of scorn laced in his polite words. "I was just explaining to Lady Pinnsburr and her husband that marriage does not entitle her to the crown, and her role would simply be that of a queen consort. The goblins bequeath the title of Goblin Queen to the worthy individual, as you are well aware, having received it yourself."
Lady Pinnsburr shot Sarah a scathing look before turning her attention back to the King. Sarah just remained a blank canvass, even as Jareth's eyes bored into her again.
"So you see we are in quite a predicament," he tapped his cane three times upon his dais. "Miss Pinnsburr wants the crown, as well as matrimony to yours truly, and her parents request the same."
Sarah felt the pendant around her neck burn in response to Jareth's words. The Labyrinth did not want Forsythia as a Queen. That gave Sarah some satisfaction. Still, she remained silent. As angry as she was with Jareth, seeing the results of his torture, gave her sympathy to his plight. He deserved a lot of things, but being married to this Navas-Pinnsburr puppet was not something she would encourage if she could help it. After all, her friends Hoggle, and the Spriggets, would all suffer if Navas used their puppet to gain control of the Labyrinth. Sarah was protective of the Labyrinth and by extension, its King. She may not like him as a person, but as a monarch, and her current counterpart, she had Jareth's best interests at heart.
"We humbly beseech that you replace the mortal with our fae daughter," Alutoieru brought her two hands together as if in prayer. "She will make you a sweet and docile wife. Forsythia has been instructed for many years to be the ideal companion for you; she is obedient, taciturn, and she will be a slave to your every whim."
Sarah flinched at the mention of the word 'slave.' Jareth's face crumpled into pure rage, but as quickly as it had come, he had schooled his features into indifference.
"You dare insult my preferences for a wife, by suggesting that I would want nothing but a sycophant for a wife," he said coolly, as he straightened the fingers of his gloves.
Alutoieru blanched and her husband, Kweko huffed next to her. "We meant no offence."
"You meant every offence," Jareth smirked, a dangerous glint shining in his eyes. "You refer to my Queen as a mortal, instead of addressing her properly. Queen Sarah is more than a mortal, and you do not deserve to be standing in her presence."
"Sire, your father King Effistod has ordered this marriage-," Alutoieru implored.
"Yes, but he can't dictate to the Labyrinth who they recognise as the Queen," Jareth snarled. "He aimed to make me king when he sent me to this Kingdom, and fortuitously for him, the Kingship was granted. But unlike other kingdoms and Principalities, the Goblin Kingdom uses magic to choose their liege, not the High Council."
Sarah could see why Jareth had a reputation as a formidable fae. She stood her ground but could see the Pinnsburr's visibly quaking in their boots, as Jareth spoke with dangerous tones and dark looks aplenty.
"It's a shame that your sister failed in her attempt to kidnap my Queen," Jareth continued with sarcasm. "It would have made your situation so much easier without this obstacle in your way. Indeed, if they had succeeded in torturing me into compliance, do you think the Labyrinth would look more favourably upon your daughter?"
"Meffod's interferences are unfortunate," Alutoieru bowed her head.
"So we have an impasse, Queen Sarah," Jareth turned his gaze back to her, ignoring Alutoieru's apologist statement. "I have to accept marriage to Forsythia as dictated by Navas, but they do not want it without the crown of the Goblin Queen. Interesting predicament, as I am sure my father did not remember that the goblins select their royalty."
Sarah set her jaw, ignoring the feelings swarming through her, as she wanted to scream out that her role was temporary, and he knew it. The pendant seemed to vibrate upon her chest in recognition of his words, and despite everything, it was a comforting feeling. She had failed several times to return the medallion to Jareth, and she was starting to wonder if she would be able to. Pointing any of this out seemed to clash with what Jareth required from her right now. Against her urges to throw it all in his face, she kept her opinions to herself.
"Tell me, Forsythia, do you love me?" Jareth turned his sharp eyes on the blonde still kneeling on the cold, hard granite.
"Yes, I do my lord," she offered a brilliant simpering smile. "Of course I do. How could I not? You are beauty and generosity personified."
Sarah resisted the urge to scoff at her flattery by biting the inside of her cheek. Jareth flicked a warning look to Sarah before looking back at the "devoted" fae quailing in front of him.
"Beauty?" he gnashed his teeth. "My burnt hair is not beautiful. And I have scars and impediments that detract from fae virtue, not to mention my existing flaws with my eyes and my teeth. What say you of my defects?"
Forsythia searched his face and gave him a vapid smile. "You are still the most beautiful fae I have ever seen. You are the moon, briefly obscured by a cloud that will soon lift to let your radiance shine through once more."
Sarah expected Jareth to be delighted by this rehearsed flowery speech, but if he was, his features remained unchanged and unmoved.
"Then if that is how you feel, can you accept the proposal I am duty-bound to offer you, without the benefit of being the Queen?"
Forsythia's smile wavered, but she nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, Your Majesty. The mort- that is to say, - the Queen is nothing to me."
"Nothing to you?" Jareth frowned, rising out of his throne. "Come here, girl."
She obeyed, stepping up the dais to be level with Jareth who leant heavily on his cane. Sarah could see the strain that this audience was having on him. Forsythia innocently smiled back at the glowering king. 'Stupid Girl', Sarah thought, unkindly.
"If you were to be my wife, that woman who stands there so stoically while you and your family insult her, will still be Queen," he purred, his hand cupping the fae's cheek in his gloved hand. "She will be your Queen. She will outrank you. Do you still want to tell me to my face, that Hi'live is nothing to you?"
Forsythia had the sense to look mildly intimidated by the menacing look in Jareth's eyes, despite his thumb affectionately stroking her cheek. "I simply meant that I would be your dutiful wife, regardless of who wears the crown," she extolled. "It is you, I love, not your position."
"So if I forfeited my rights to this kingdom, and then handover my entire crown to the Queen Regent, you would still want to marry me and would still profess to love me?" he asked, his hand stilling on her cheek.
Alutoieru gasped, Kweko gaped, but Jareth maintained his look on Forsythia who visibly paled at his implications. Sarah gritted her teeth, as she contemplated him leaving the full rule of this place to her. He couldn't be serious. Still, she remained impassive.
"O-of course," Forsythia stuttered, less confidently than her earlier professions of love.
"Hmmm," he sat down with complacency. "You may return to your prostration."
She obliged, looking for all the world grateful to be out his grasp.
"Your daughter agrees to marry me, despite never becoming Queen," Jareth addressed Kweko and Alutoieru. "Do we have your formal permission to start courting?"
Sarah held her breath, while she watched their faces both redden and their mouths flop open as he spoke.
"Our daughter deserves to be Queen over the mort-," Alutoieru stated, bravely, or perhaps foolishly.
"Go on," Jareth bared pointy teeth. Sconces flared on the walls, and the goblins all froze with bated breath. "Insult my chosen Queen again in my presence."
"She is but a mortal," Kweko offered. "Our daughter is a fae who possesses magic and will do your bidding, as you desire."
Jareth gave a deep, hearty laugh, scaring some of the hapless chickens meandering throughout the throne room. The Pinnsburrs looked rightfully perturbed. "Again, you try to talk to me of my desires, but you missed the mark. I do not require a mirror to reflect and flatter me. I do not yearn to live with just my shadow and echoes for company. I desire an equal that challenges me to be a better version of myself."
Sarah refused to look at Jareth as he spoke, but she could feel his eyes penetrating her through every layer. Instead, she focused on Forsythia's pristine face, watching her fatuous, unwavering smile. Sarah's heart was doing some kind of jig in her chest at his words.
"We moulded our daughter, for you, to suit your tastes," Kweko maintained. Sarah found herself pitying Forsythia, having her entire life and mind fashioned for the sole purpose of marrying a King who did not seem to want her. Sarah knew this now. She could see he had no affection for her and anything he had previously displayed had been a facade. Sarah felt foolish with her earlier reactions to their kiss at the ball. Is that why Jareth had summoned her to witness this interaction?
"If you do not consent to your daughter marrying me, without a Queenship, then I guess this interview is over."
"Your father has sanctioned this union," Alutoieru reiterated. "He promised us she would be Queen."
"It is not a promise he could make," Jareth replied with a sigh. "His oversight is not something I can fix."
Forsythia stood at this moment and quietly headed over into Sarah's direction, still by the main entry.
"Queen Sarah," she lowered her head as she fell to her knees. "I love our King and wish him to be my husband in name and deed. I know he desires it too. I beseech you humbly for your approval."
'Vapid, but crafty,' Sarah thought as Forsythia's blue eyes all but begged her to accede. Sarah hadn't forgotten her cold treatment at the ball. She glanced up to Jareth to see his intense gaze returned, but with no discernable emotion. Jareth probably expects Sarah to give her wholehearted approval. Perhaps, concede her Queenship to Forsythia as well, given the way Sarah has handled her temporary role.
Ten minutes ago, she would have done precisely that, but since this meeting started, things had changed within her. These people were the family of her kidnappers and the people who lead to Jareth's brutal torture. His enemy, was her enemy, despite their differences. She wouldn't wish marriage to this pawn on anybody in similar circumstances. Sarah also didn't want to give Jareth the satisfaction of her running away from her responsibilities.
"Unfortunately, the bestowed Queenship is not something that I could refuse, nor something I can give away," she said with more confidence than she felt. "If you truly love our King, as you declare, then your marriage will be blessed by providence, and you need not seek my approval."
"Surely, you see some sense in the Queenship being a fundamental part of a royal marriage," Alutoieru piped up. Jareth's eyes flicked from Sarah's face to the Lady Pinnsburr and back. He leaned back in his throne, twirling the head of his cane in his hand as he watched the scene play out. Sarah glanced away to stare down Alutoieru.
"Are you implying that perhaps the King should marry me?" Sarah asked nonchalantly.
"Indeed not," Alutoieru gave a violent shake of her head. "But perhaps you could relinquish your crown, for the sake of my daughter."
"As a mortal, I am quite often looked down upon as ignorant by you fair folk," Sarah sniffed. "Yet, I do not need to be told three or four times that the Queenship is not mine to regift."
Sarah left the insult to hang in the air, causing all three Pinnsburrs to stiffen and Jareth to chuckle softly from his throne.
"King Effistod will not be happy with today's outcome," Kweko warned.
"Indubitably," Jareth stood up, and Sarah found satisfaction from seeing the three fae recoil from the menacing King. "What's said is said. Queen Sarah will not be giving up her title."
At this, Jareth threw a pointed look at Sarah before he stood up. "I suggest you now take your leave. You have insulted the Queen Regent, and you have not once addressed Hi'Live by her proper title. I will not agree to any proposal to court Forsythia, and I will not sign any contract."
The grumbling and dejected Pinnsburrs, marched out with haste. Forsythia left more leisurely, swinging her hips and giving Jareth one last alluring pout. Kweko counselled Jareth that King Effistod would not be pleased.
As soon as they were out of the room, Jareth collapsed back into his throne. Sarah hastened to his side to ensure he was well. She may detest him firmly, but she could see his body had taken the toll for his display.
"I fear that the encounter was too much for you," Sarah poured him some water from a nearby cabinet.
"At least I have one loyal supporter in you," he mumbled, accepting the water with a wan smile. "They do say solace comes from the least likely sources."
"I am not your solace," Sarah stated bitterly. "I just hate them more than I hate you."
"And I take comfort in that," he raised his head to look at her. "I can not thank you enough for what you just did."
"I did nothing," Sarah stepped back from the throne, wary of their proximity.
"You showed unity when you could have fed me to the wolves," he answered. "Without you, I would have accepted the proposal and forever be tied to that awful female."
"Your father will retaliate," Sarah warned.
"Assuredly," Jareth rubbed his temples. "I have committed a more comprehensive crime than the one performed against me."
Sarah frowned.
"Resisting a Royal dictate is a greater egregious transgression, than whipping a lesser King," Jareth explained. "Navas is not known for their understanding of fairness, Sarah."
There was no mocking tone of the word, 'fairness,' as Jareth may have served to her in the past. Perhaps he was too weary from the events just past.
"I think I should call for help to get you back to your quarters for some rest," Sarah studied his pallid features.
"Thank you, Sarah," he said again. His eyes met hers with a warmth that sent an inexplicable thrill through her. Sarah swallowed and nodded before she retreated from his slumped body.
A/N: Credits: Madonna for the Song, I'll Remember.
Some of Jareth's lines are inspired by Charlotte Bronte's Jane Eyre: "I would rather you had come and upbraided me with vehemence," (Rochester to Jane after she realises he is married), inspired Jareth's need for Sarah to shout at him, instead of sitting in silence. There are quite a few parallels between Jareth and Rochester, and Jane Eyre very much stands her own and this is similar to how I view Sarah too. I could write a novel about this, but instead, I am helping my good friend, to compile her own Jane Eyre inspired Labyrinth AU. I am very excited about this.
"Wounds unhealing," as said by Gilo is a shout out to Savage Garden, in the moving song, "You Can Still Be Free."
Big shout out to my online family from LFFL for your general shenanigans and sanity. Special thanks to AngelGlass who is ALWAYS there for me. And thank you to everyone who has read, commented, followed, supported in any way.
So yay, Jareth is alive and a bit worse for wear. Sarah has some big choices to make coming up, and Jareth has a lot of people displeased with him. Uh oh.