Chapter 14, Loves Labors
"Majesty, I'm sorry, but I must insist you leave." The little dwarf had been pushing at Jareth for some time now, but he wouldn't budge.
"I will not. This is my castle and that is my Queen. What is happening to her?" He demanded, practically stomping his foot down. He stared into the old woman's eyes, trying not to be distracted by the numerous scurries of Goblins in white, buzzing around the room.
"Sire, I plead. We need to act fast. It would be best for you to wait outside." The woman said.
Jareth turned his head away, sneering at the floor. He looked up, towards the bed. Sarah seemed so far away. After the incident in the cavern, she'd collapsed in his arms. In a panic, he'd brought her straight to the castle, and had every doctor, midwife, and magic man rushing to her side. He gazed upon her from across the room, she was so pale, glazed with sweat, and still covered in blood. It was a sight that consumed him with utter fear and helplessness.
"What is happening, is she dying?" He asked, getting straight to the point. The midwife looked up at him with empathy, an expression that worried him.
"No." She said. Jareth let out a small breath, before she continued. "Whatever happened...has put far too much stress on her body. She's going into premature labor." She said, slow and clear. Jareth's head darted back to the bed. He wanted nothing more than to rush by her side, but his thoughts were frantic and conflicted, and she was right. He'd only get in the way at this point.
"Will they survive?" He asked, after a long moment. He'd been so solely concerned with Sarah's wellbeing, that he never really thought of their unborn children separate from that.
Complete despair overtook him. Everything had fallen apart so fast. The greatest thing he could ever be granted was being taken away from him. He couldn't handle it. The wrinkled woman watched her King with a sympathy she showed often. Knowing how important love, and offspring were to Fae, she understood the implications of what was happening.
"We're hoping so. She is quite far along. There is a good chance they will be born perfectly healthy. We'll just have to wait and see." She said, watching his reaction.
Jareth's eyes were glued to his beloved. She was panting furiously, gripping at the sheets. She rolled her head to the side, and her eyes fluttered a bit. She looked to him, with empty eyes, pleading for him, for a release. He clenched his fists hard, bringing his stare back to the Goblin.
"They will survive, or this world will suffer a wrath like no other." He said, storming out the door.
Sarah winced, her eyes straining to adjust the bright morning light. She felt like she was sinking in quicksand, she couldn't move, couldn't breathe. Am I in the castle? How did I get here? She wondered. It was then that she rolled her head to the side. Jareth? Her eyes fluttered to the new lighting. What is he doing? She continued. He was talking, to a Goblin, and he didn't look happy. She wanted to call out for him, to have him by her side. He looked at her for a moment, but, just then, he turned and stormed out of the room.
She was confused for all of two seconds before the pain kicked in. She threw her head back and gave a painful shriek. She knew what was happening. Oh my god, this is it isn't it? She willed her mind to focus on the surging contractions in her abdomen.
Jareth stormed the castle. He wished he hadn't killed Serena so abruptly.
"Vile whore. If anything happens to Sarah, or my children, they will all die." He was furious, black rage bubbled from his core. He couldn't stand it, being utterly helpless. He knew he should be there, be by her side, but he was angry. Angry, because he was afraid. I can not - will not bear this. I can't lose them...
After he'd calmed down, just a bit, he found himself entering a room. It was dark, and vast. There was a large stone table in the center. And on it, another rip in his heart.
Jareth stood before the pale body of his uncle for what seemed a long while. It was quiet, it didn't seem real.
"You've done your duty, Uncle. May the Gods bless your soul." He knew he was gone, but somehow, a part of him expected a response. He stood, motionless, alone in the dim light of a torch. "So much has been taken, Uncle. My world is falling around me, yet I am powerless. It -It's not fair!" He roared, slamming his fists on the stone table.
His shoulders hunched over, and he gave in to rest on the support of the table. He was angry, angry because he was nothing, powerless. Angry because he wasn't strong enough. He wasn't strong enough to stop this from happening. Angry because he was too afraid to be at his wife's side. Hot tears swelled in his eyes. He ground his teeth, fighting himself.
"I can't lose her, Uncle. I cant -I can't lose them. They are my dream, I will not allow it to be taken from me." He spat, heavy streams rolling down his face. "Why -why is it such a curse? To love? My heart can not bear it. Why is love so endearing, so yearning? It will tear apart just as surely as it will mend. Is our race all the wiser? Was I a fool, Uncle? Is it better to feel stone, or is happiness worth it's weight in pain?" His hands gripped the edge of the stone. He thought of how much his long life had changed in only a few months, how happy and tragic it all seemed. He thought of the pain in his heart, the fear that crippled him so.
Then, he thought of her smile. Of the way her eyes fluttered whenever she looked at him, and the grin he would give that was made especially for her. He thought of the way their bodies fit so perfectly, and the way their laughs blended into a graceful melody.
His breathing had slowed, and the tears had ceased. He was staring so intently at the grey stone of the table, but noticed not.
He thought of the feel of her skin, the way it swelled with their love. He wondered whose eyes their children would have, and the color of their hair.
He turned his gaze to his uncle, a stone face which held such riotous energy not so long ago. His mind relaxed, and it was quiet again.
"The world will not forget your sacrifice. You will be remembered." He said, taking the limp hand in his own. "In your name, I will make sure it is worth such a price." And then he was gone.
Sarah was hard at work screaming her head off. If she had the energy, she would've been kicking and flailing at anything within her reach.
"YOU PEOPLE ARE MAGIC! AND YOU'RE TELLING ME YOU DON'T HAVE SOME KIND OF FUCKING EPIDURAL?" She shrieked. She couldn't comprehend how much pain she was in, it was excruciating. "Where- where's Jareth?" She asked, that last yell took most of her energy. She threw her head back into a pillow. She couldn't take it, she needed him with her. Tears started to roll down her face as she tried to concentrate.
"Shh, shh. Just breathe, my lady." Mage said, blotting her face with a damp cloth. "I'm sure he's right outside, the head midwife told him to leave." She tried to console her. Sarah struggled to respond.
"I need him- I-" She couldn't finish, drawing short of breath. She closed her eyes, and opened her mouth wider, searching for air. She felt a hot breath along her ear.
"I told you once before, if you asked, I would never leave your side." Jareth hummed. He'd knelt beside the bed, taking her hand in his, lacing their fingers and squeezing them tight. She strained to keep her eyes open, and even more to smile.
"You made it." She whispered. He pulled her hand to his lips and gave it a loving kiss, knowing she was referring to more than the present moment. Mage took a step to the side, warding off any distressing nurses from interupting.
"Just barely." He responded. She looked at him, more weak than she'd ever been.
"I don't know if I can do this." She said. He leaned in, pushing his forehead to hers.
"You can. Your will is strong. I will be here, never to leave your side." She gave a weak smile.
"I bet you wouldn't be so charming if you were in my position." She said, turning her head to face the ceiling.
He sat back and laughed, his eyes never leaving her face. Though it is Love, that mends and tears, it is you that will heal its scars...
"I love you." He said, nuzzling her neck.
"I...love you...too." She muttered.
He gave a small smile, which soon turned to a cringe of pain when she clamped her grip around his hand.
Her contractions were growing more frequent. She let out a scream, digging her nails into Jareth's hand with more strength than he thought possible. The midwives soon gathered around her, each taking their position. The old woman from before turned to Jareth.
"You want to be here? Then that's your job." She said, giving an implying eye to his now broken hand. Her attention then darted from Jareth to Sarah. "Alright, it's time."