Well, here's another. Oh, I don't own Laby, blah blah blah...I wonder if I can claim my Didymus though...hmm...oh well, on with the show.

The small group of men left the stables and proceeded North at an alarming rate. The moon was setting over their left shoulder, but darkness still had a firm grasp over the day. Jareth led the party dressed all in black atop a black stallion. Had the way not been lit by a glowing ball above their heads, he would not have been seen. They raced over the landscape and down the well worn path in silence. Any other horse would have dropped under the ride, but these horses were bred for the distance running and covered the distance with no problem. In a little under two hours the party was climbing up the mountains and into Torin Pass. The air was thick with fog and it was eerily quiet. The horses flicked their ears and stamped their feet in unease. Though their eyes were of no use, a smell assaulted them as they came into a clearing.
A few men gagged, Didymus covered his mouth and nose with a hand, and Jareth's lips tightened into a thin line. There was death on the air. The metallic sharpness of blood reached their senses and it was overpowering.
The fog cleared with a wave of Jareth's hand and a gruesome scene was revealed. Bodies littered the ground. There were several women cowering in a tent, men scattered throughout the camp, and one small boy had been slain as he hid behind a carriage. Even the horses had been butchered.

Several men could be heard gasping for breath, but Jareth did not pay them any attention. He dismounted and walked a little closer to the destruction. Didymus yelled some command to the men, but Jareth did not hear. He was busy walking towards two men lying in the dirt. As he approached them, Jareth could see both men had been pierced straight through the heart and both apparently dragged to this final resting spot. One was fair haired, the other dark, both faces frozen in anguish. Jareth leaned down and gently touched one of his lords. There was no life there. He touched the other and found the same. He stood as Didymus approached him and handed him an arrow shaft.

"The lookout was taken first. It looks like there was no warning. They were dragged from their tents still in their night clothes." Didymus let his gaze linger on Stivin and Brynt for a moment and then back to Jareth. "The men are looking around, seeing if there are any survivors."

Jareth dropped the arrow into the soft blood stained dirt. "There aren't."

Didymus was of the same opinion, but the men had needed something to do rather than stare at the carnage.
"What do you want to do with the bodies?" Jareth stared at Stivin and Brynt, but did not utter a word.
It seemed to Didymus that his thoughts lie far away in the distance. He cleared his throat, wishing the smell would abate. "Jareth?"

Jareth did not reply. Instead he raised a hand over his head. As he did, a bright light burst into the clearing, brighter and purer than sunlight. The light filtered down to the ground and the blood was removed, then the torn and broken tents vanished and then lastly the two dead lords were lifted off the ground. The light encased them and in one final flash the light and all the bodies disappeared. The clearing was as it was once was, no smell, no sight remained of the deaths. Jareth dropped his hand and sighed as he looked over the now pristine clearing.

"Where did you send them?" Didymus asked softly.

Jareth gave him a sideways glance, but instead of replying mounted his stead. "This was too organized for brigands.
Send out some scouts and search the surroundings for any clues." Didymus nodded and Jareth continued, "Send out for Piertre; I want him in Dorensae by midday tomorrow." Again Didymus nodded. Jareth turned towards the South. Even though he could no longer see the scene he had just witnessed, it was burned into his memory. The horse stomped impatiently. The beast had the right of it; Jareth needed to leave this depressing place. He turned in his seat. "I'll see you in the morning," was all he said and then let the horse go.

The ride was soothing in that it allowed Jareth to face the fact that two of his kind had passed on; never to return. Though not overly close with Stivin and Brynt, they were brethren and the shock of their deaths had not left him. His kind did not die; did not cease to exist. It was hard to fathom the truth that he would never talk to the men again, never see them again, but when he had touched them no sign of their soul was present. There was no magic left in them, it had drained from them like the blood from their bodies. It seemed he was thrown into a blackness of despair, darkness was all around him. He leaned into the horse and whispered a few words. The beast took off with a new burst of speed and very soon the castle in the center of the labyrinth was in view.

After handing his stallion to a stable hand, Jareth stepped away and reappeared in the threshold of his chambers. It seemed an eternity since he had left the room, not just hours, but the fire still roared in the sitting room. There was no sight of Sarah though, and that sent a shiver down his spine. He kept his steps steady and stepped fully into the room. On the sofa, where he had left her, Sarah slept. She had found a light blanket and curled on her side. A few strands of black hair had fallen in her face and he found himself standing before her brushing it away. Her eyes fluttered open and focused first on his hand still on her cheek and then up to his eyes. Jareth moved around the sofa and stood before her as she sat up.

Sarah knew something was wrong still. It was written all over his face and his eyes held a deep sorrow that she had never seen before. It nearly broke her heart and she grasped his hand, "What happened?"

He sat next to her with a deep sigh. "Lords Stivin and Brynt have been killed."

Sarah's mouth fell open a little. She may be new to the world here, but dead lords did not sound like a good thing. "And...and is that why you..." she shook her head looking for the right word for what she saw earlier.

Jareth sat back, eyes dark. "I have never known an Immortal to die the way they did." It was painful to remember it; like a piece of him had been ripped apart. He didn't understand if it impacted him so because he was king, or just Immortal alike. Sarah was watching him and he turned towards her. "We do not *die* like that."

"But you die?" Sarah was confused. "You said Immortal...I don't understand."

Another history lesson. "We are eternally reborn, our souls never die...but Stivin and Brynt...there was nothing there." His voice trailed off to a whisper and he closed his eyes. Sarah's soft touch against his face forced them to open and he was met with tender green eyes.

"I'm sorry, Jareth. Really, I am." She moved her hands from his face and pulled him into an embrace. She half expected him to pull from her, but he did not. Instead he rested his head on her shoulder. Somewhere in the distance a clock chimed the hour. It was surprisingly four and Sarah found herself yawning. Jareth pulled away from her and eyed her in a curious way. Like he was trying to decide something. At the same time she felt that presence again, gentle and mild.

Jareth also felt the Labyrinth's presence, but it was much calmer now than it had been for days. Exhaustion was creeping on him, but he did not want to be alone. Just thinking about it made him remember the emptiness of Stivin and Brynt. He was afraid of being alone, afraid he would become like them, though deep down he understood it was a ridiculous fear. That been said, his thought process was a little fuzzy after not sleeping for half a week. Sarah yawned again and Jareth stood and extended a hand to her. She looked at it for a second before hesitantly placing a hand into his. As soon as Jareth felt her hand, he pulled her up and into his arms. They stood like that for a moment, face to face, and hand to hand, bodies pressed against each other. "Stay here," the words were out of his mouth before he realized he was going to utter them, but what was said was said. He waited for her to pull away, but she did not.

Sarah thought about what he said and how he said it. There was nothing sexual about his request, it was something else, but it still unnerved her. She looked up into his eyes and saw a little of what he was thinking. Those oddly mismatched eyes only ever told the truth to her, and the truth that she saw was simple. He *needed* her to stay.

A little nod was all he felt against his chest as she held him tight. The heavy feeling that had followed him since first hearing the bell was lifted and he wrapped his arms around Sarah tightly. With very little effort, and a little magic, they appeared in his room. A few candles burned on a nightstand, but the room was mostly cast in shadow. Sarah's breath caught in her throat for a moment as the situation really settled in. Maybe it wasn't too late to reconsider this. Jareth seemed to know exactly what she was thinking and he gave a her a smile that almost dared her to bolt. Instead, she gathered up what little courage she had and climbed into the massive sized bed and snuggled under the heavy comforter. This room was much colder without a fire. Jareth approached the bed,
and at the same time the candles snuffed out. Sarah held her breath and stayed very still as the bed moved ever so slightly under his weight. She didn't know if he could hear her heartbeat, but it pounded against her ribs. She felt him slide under the comforter, and then there was no other movement. Nothing, it was like he wasn't even there. She turned to her side in confusion. Though the room was dark, she could tell he was watching her. She reached out and her hand fell on a bare shoulder. She snatched it back and heard Jareth sigh. It was a sigh she was beginning to equate with weariness. Sarah bit her lip and then made a small movement towards Jareth. He did not move, but merely watched as she edged closer to him until she was so close her hair tickled his face. She laid her head down on his shoulder and he felt her swallow, something he noticed she did when she was nervous. It made him smile. "Sarah?"

"Yes?" her voice was meek and tiny.

"Go to sleep." Jareth let the smile stay on his lips as he lay his head back on his soft, feather pillow. His eyes had just closed when Sarah's voice broke the silence.

"Jareth?"

He didn't open his eyes, "Hmm?"

"Goodnight."

Although he hadn't realized it was there, the tension in his body released and he found himself truly relaxing. "Goodnight Sarah."
That was the last thing he remembered before sleep claimed him.

Didymus woke early the morning after returning to Dorensae. The scouts had found nothing of importance, and that bothered Didymus. There was something conspicuous in the absence of evidence. A messanger had been sent out for Piertre like Jareth ordered, but sometimes the man was hard to locate. As well he should be, for he was usually deep undercover; Jareth's little spy. Didymus ate a light breakfast and drowned a cup of tea as the sun finished rising. The other lords would be waiting for Jareth, but Didymus had not spotted his king. He decided to search for him, so he found himself passing the guards on the fourth floor and entering the Royal Chambers. Didymus frowned as he stepped through the archway and into the study. Jareth was usually awake by now and working at the desk. The room was oddly quiet; there weren't even any candles lit, the only light filtering in through the door behind him. Didymus teetered on the edge of uncertainty. On one part, he rarely ventured further into Jareth's chambers; on the other, after the deaths of Stivin and Brynt...Didymus shook his head. He wouldn't think like that. Nothing had happened to Jareth. But now that the thought had entered his head it was hard to shake it off. With a deep breath he passed through the office and into the sitting room. It too was dark, though a few wooden logs smoldered in the fireplace. Didymus passed through this room and into the bed chambers. At first, he didn't know what to think. It could have just been a trick of the eye, but he looked closer. There, in the bed together, was Jareth and Sarah. He must have made a noise that he was unaware of, for suddenly Jareth's eyes snapped open. Didymus had seen Jareth mad before, but had never seen him look like this. Jareth pointed to the outer rooms and mouthed one single word: 'Out.'

Didymus retreated into the office. He had just turned around to wait when Jareth appeared before him dressed in clothes of black. Didymus tried to speak, but Jareth advanced on him, grabbed him by the throat and pushed him against a wall, his feet left dangling.

"You will speak of this to no one, do you understand me?" Jareth spoke through clinched teeth, his voice quiet, but deadly.

Didymus was truly afraid. Jareth's eyes had a tendency to glow red with fire when he was mad, but right now even the usually blue and green irises were red and orange and he could feel the anger radiating off him in waves. He tried to utter something, but Jareth shook him tight.

"Do you understand?"

Didymus choked out the first thing that came to mind, "Do you think so little of me?"

Jareth seemed to return to his senses. The harsh red and orange in his eyes faded away to the normal blue and green.
He released Didymus, who dropped to the floor and rubbed his throat. Jareth stood there in what he could only assume was shock. He had lost control so easily, had lashed out at Didymus without considering any consequence. And now, what did he say to remedy the situation? Jareth met the betrayal in Didymus's gaze and slowly blinked. "Didymus..." His voice faded away. There really was nothing to say. Well, he did admit the possibility that he could apologize, but his pride was too great. Instead, the two men faced each other in an uneasy silence until Jareth's mantle clock chimed the hour.

Didymus took a deep breath and straightened. Obviously there was not going to be a discussion about this incident. He decided to focus on the original reason that brought him to the suite. "Lady Emma and the other lords were prepared to hear from you this morning."

Jareth nodded, "Yes, I shall be in the throne room shortly."

Didymus took that as a dismissal and bowed low, backing away and turning. He only got a few feet before Jareth's voice called back out to him. He turned to view Jareth and bowed again, "Your Majesty?"

Jareth recoiled at the title. Didymus never spoke to him so formally in private, and he never bowed before either. It was then that Jareth realized he had broken a bond between the two of them. No longer was Didymus on nearly equal footing to him, where Jareth had always placed him, but now his actions had forced Didymus to step away. They were no longer equals, and Jareth wondered if they were still even friends. The realization hurt more than he wanted to admit, but he was at a loss of how to repair it. Instead, he relied on his years of training and pulled a tight mask over his expression and came up with a question, "Has Pierter arrived yet?"

"No, Your Majesty. I shall notify you when he does, though."

Jareth nodded, "Very well."

Didymus bowed again and quickly left the room. He did not want to stay in Jareth's presence anymore. He did not want to feel the loss of a great friend and he fled without looking back.

Jareth watched his second flee and did nothing to stop him. He leaned his back against a wall and pounded a fist against it.
"Damn." For the first time in many days he had actually slept and this was not what he had wanted to find upon waking. He pushed away from the wall and entered his bedroom where Sarah was still sleeping soundly. He watched as her breath made her chest rise and fall and wondered why he had reacted the way he did to Didymus's innocent intrusion. With a sigh he sent Sarah back to her room, but he stayed and lingered a moment longer. The truth of the matter was he knew a great change was taking place in the Underground. Something was shifting and he knew that somewhere in the future Sarah was going to be pulled away from him. He didn't know how he knew, maybe it was the whisperings of the Labyrinth, but he knew, and he was going to do anything he could to hold on to her for a little longer. "So much trouble for such a little thing," he found himself saying aloud. With a shake of the head he vanished from the room.

Hmmm, I wrote this and even I feel sorry for Jareth and Didymus. Ah, foolish, stubborn pride. I'm going to have to see if I can fix that. Please respond. Oh, this is all leading somewhere, I promise.