Even Death Chapter 51: Ways of Old and Gifts of Blood, a labyrinth fanfic

AN:

I am told that another tissue warning may be prudent, so here it is, keep them handy.

Also how do you like it until now? Please review and let me know.

Chapter: 51 : Ways of Old and Gifts of Blood

"It is, all right... I'll find...you...Again. I swear... I'll. ... Find... you. I... I.. Even death will... not... Jareth."

The words were barely loud enough to be called a whisper yet to Jareth they might as well have been a furious roar, as he held onto her weakening body with all his strength.

"No Sarah not like this."

A heart can break over many things. And out of all of those things, mourning the loss of a loved one before they have passed must be the most painful.

But from that pain sprung a fierce determination. Yes her quadruple cores were drained to the point where there was precious little left, too little to sustain life and a soul as powerful as hers. And soon she would fade away completely leaving nothing but an empty husk behind. But even this weakened there was still time, still hope. Options still remained open and though they would seem repugnant to Sarah with her genteel modern ways Jareth would not hesitate in using them should the opportunity arise.

Turning to Pond, Jareth softly asked: "Am I mistaken in thinking that the village of Greensheart is close by?"

Bowing the tall and even for a goblin thin male said: "No My King you are not and if you will permit me I shall go to gather a carriage to bring our Queen to a place where she may rest and restore her strength..."

"It will do her little good Pond, Her cores are too far drained and the Labyrinth too frail to expend the magic that she will need ": Pain beyond any that Pond had ever imagined seeing in his perpetually strong and wilful kings eyes, dulled the light that otherwise always set the bicoloured crystalline orbs ablaze as Jareth gently rested the quickly paling woman in his arms so that her brow lay against his neck and she seemed to be sweetly sleeping: "Soon the magic within her will be spent, and..."

He couldn't say it, he could not speak of her dying no matter how true it was. The pain was simply too great. And falling silent he just sat wishing to the gods above that this was all just a dream, and that he would wake with a start anytime now to wrap himself around her sleeping form and revel in the pure life of her. But even as he wished it he knew that it would not come to pass.

"I realize that my lord, but we are a village that still keeps the old ways alive, and we have a stone of power in our square."

Of course, Greensheart was one of the five villages who had clung to the old ways when he had outlawed the sacrifice of blood three centuries ago. They had resisted so fiercely that he had had no choice but to allow those villages to continue their tradition of voluntarily sacrifices. Relief washed through him, scorching his heart as he stroked his fingers through her hair, swearing viciously as he realized that he was still wearing those goddamn gloves. With a living power stone in the village square then he might still save her. Of course he would have to find a willing sacrifice, but that ought not prove too difficult in a village where they had kept the tradition of blood sacrifice alive enough to keep their stone of power alive.

And though he disliked the thought of paying for life with blood he hated the thought of losing her more.

Much much more.

"Then go Pond take those with you who can travel at speed and return here with a carriage as quickly as possible."

Bowing so deeply that his unruly mop of hair nearly brushed the fog wet cobblestone, Pond turned without words and raced through the group of former prisoners gathering those who were able to run with him as he went.

It took them barely an hour to return with the carriage. And in that hour Jareth had been in Hell as he sat on the cold cobblestone holding Sarah's still and utterly freezing body in his arms. He had used just a little of his own quickly dwindling magic to heat and dry his cloak before wrapping them both in its folds. Not that it had helped in any way because she was as cold as before when he slowly and stiffly climbed to his feet with her held safely in his arms, and carried her to the carriage. Wondering briefly at the carriages normal purpose, seeing as it had a bench on one side and a pillow and blanket covered platform on the other, which was just large enough to lay a person on. But it was not anything that concerned him long enough for him to ignore the tiny beads of sweat on Sarah's brow that caught the golden fairy light emitted by the canopy, and looked like droplets of gold against her cream skin. Even now as she teetered on the brink of death she was still the most beautiful woman that he ever had and ever would see. Laying her gently on the to his pleasant surprise spell warmed blankets, he pulled them up covering her as he called out to the long armed creature driving it, to go and lose no time...

The creature did as asked.

And Great goddess above but he hated carriages. No matter how much effort had been put into making the ride smooth, it always felt like some giant child was shaking him about in some fit of anger.

No there was no doubt that he quite preferred to travel by his own power, either by wing or on a mount of some kind. Of course kneeling on the floor clutching Sarah's hand while her life slipped through his fingers, as the driver hurtled the carriage through the dark labyrinth as if the forgotten gods themselves were chasing them, did nothing to alleviate that feeling. The only appeasing part of the harrowing carriage ride was the fact that it was mercifully short.

The village was as dark as an oubliette when the carriage rolled in through the ancient gate, and came to a halt outside of a massive structure that Jareth vaguely remembered was the mayor's home and acting City Hall, he didn't really care who it belonged to, all he cared about was whether who ever owned it had the authority necessary to find a willing sacrifice. Casting a last worried glance at her pale still face, Jareth smiled wistfully as he stroked her cheek with his thumb and whispered: "Don't leave me yet, precious. Stay and I will find a sacrifice to save you."

Turning away from her and allowing others to care for her was perhaps the most difficult thing he had ever been forced to do, and only the sight of the ancient treant healer he recalled as being the head of the Hollyash family hobbling towards the carriage, followed closely by two of her many great great great granddaughters whom he didn't know the names of, made it bearable. At least she was a healer of great repute, only surpassed by Alderthorn, and if any one could keep his dying queen alive long enough it would be Hollyash. But still he had so precious little time to do what had to be done.

A crowd had gathered in the square in front of the mayors whimsical mansion, and it took more effort than Jareth would ever admit to any living creature to nod and acknowledge them as he moved through the throng on his way to the stairs where the pudgy and gaudily dressed mayor waited with anxiety written all over him. Muff, Jareth reminded himself as he approached the hand wringing goblin with a purposeful stride, the mayor was named Muff even though he was born to this realm, his parents had still decided to give him a name in the style of those wished away. And he had been the mayor of this village for just over three hundred years, and in those years he had turned a relatively average village into a prosperous one, whose produce now fed a large part of the Labyrinths inhabitants.

Scaling the stone stairs, Jareth nodded in acknowledgement as the rotund goblin bowed as deeply as his protruding belly would allow him: "Arise Mayor Muff, now is not the time for standing on courtly manners. I come here in need of aide. The queen has dire need of help and your village is the only place where I may find it. "

The goblins cheeks blushed a dark green as he straightened and brushed his perilously tight waistcoat free of some imagined crumbs: "Why certainly my king all that is ours is of course at your disposal... But..."

"Yes But what ?": Raising an eyebrow in curious inquiry Jareth cocked his head and watched as the goblin became suddenly unable to meet his monarchs eyes.

"But we were told that you were dead, and that her majesty is entrenched in an encampment build around the gate unto the realm of the unseelie ": He looked utterly uncomfortable as he wrung his baby like hands so hard that the force left his knuckles white and bloodless, and continued: "Pray my lord is there a sign that thou could give us, some evidence that you are as you say and not a fey ruse."

A sign they asked, well that was no great matter, for he was not just king but also the ruler and master of the Labyrinth. And this would not take long. Thus relieved he pointed to a random monster in the crowd and proclaimed loudly: "Your name is List, but to your human parents your name was Richard and you were wished away by your father after he had remarried upon your mother's death in childbirth. You were naught but three years of age at the time and he never ran for you. I placed you into the arms of mother Galia who was a dusk warden with wings of soft midnight black and who passed some two hundred years ago, just after you became the adoptive father of the child named Yarrow. Who like you are a bugbear though utterly pale of fur and skin, and who remembers none of her human past."

Turning from the hulking creature before he could confirm his statement, Jareth pointed to a small pale skinned girl and declared: "Your name is LuarFeira and you wished yourself and your sister away as the bombs fell upon Dresden and you were caught within a cellar. I brought you both here but your sister was too weak to change and her soul still awaits its turn on this great wheel that we call our lives. Your name was Gretchen and your sister Liesel..."

Folding his arms across his chest, Jareth fell silent as the two he had picked out both nodded and in turn confirmed not just the facts that he had revealed but also that none but their king knew their human names. Not even their Labyrinthian families.

The relief on the mayor's face was almost tangible as he fell to his knees in front of Jareth proclaiming: "My king it truly is you..."

Smiling slightly at the sight of the massive goblin settled awkwardly on one knee, Jareth turned to address the crowd: "Yes it is. We were forced to keep my survival of the vile fey betrayal a secret to all even my loyal Labyrinthian subjects. And once we leave here I must ask that you keep our secret, lest our plan be destroyed and with it all our hope. But first I must ask you for an even greater help. The queen is dying, her cores have been drained so deeply that I cannot save her life alone, not without opening the gate to the mortal realm. A thing that we cannot do without burning out the cores of every being in this realm. I need aide, but it is an aide that requires me to ask something of you that I vowed never to ask.

Pausing as he looked at his loyal subjects, Jareth felt like a traitor. He had vowed to never do this, to hold the sanctity of life above what power could be secured by the sacrifice of it. And yet here he was, demanding that a life be given to save a queen, whom these loyal and goodly creature barely knew. But he was doing it for the good of all it wasn't just for his own selfish desire. He needed Sarah not just to help him rebuild the Labyrinth, but to fight Oberon and Titania should he fail in the final battle... No he had no choice. And still the words burned like acid on his tongue.

"To save our queen I require a blood sacrifice... "

Silence gripped the square as every creature before him seemed to freeze in place. And then no more than perhaps a second later sheer pandemonium erupted as a creature called out: "Blood"

Only to be answered by another with the word: "Life!"

Then a third called: "Blood and life a true sacrifice! Take me!"

"No me."

"Nay I shall be chose."

"Please let my life be given..."

Voice after voice rose to join the choir of willing sacrifices until it seemed that every soul in the square were clamouring to be allowed to die. To give their live in solemn gift for their dying queen, and Jareth felt almost giddy with guilty relief.

... . ...

A harsh wind whipped around the stone of power as Jareth watched the procession of solemn elders carry Sarah's limp form up through the ranks of the silent spectators on a stretcher piled high with soft leaves and furs to keep her warm despite her being naked in the damp winter night.

He ought to have felt the cold of the night permeating his skin, but this area was too steeped in the ancient magic that feed off of the sacrifices performed here, for him to feel anything as immaterial as temperature. Nothing mattered but the shimmering blade in his hand, and the blood it would spill in scant moments. The elders were all barefoot and naked to the waist, their skin painted in blue woad like the picts of old, and they did not seem to feel the cold either. Behind them walked three cloaked and hooded figures two no taller than children, but Jareth knew them both to be gnomes of a thousand years of age, and a third easily twice their height, whom Jareth knew was Labyrinthian goblin of two thousand years of age.

Choosing a sacrifice had been easier than he would have expected. Though something like that could never be called truly easy.

First he had asked those willing to come forth, and then he had culled them through a series of questions, until he had been left with only three volunteers. Those three he had asked the simplest question of all: "Now tell me why do you want to do this? Why would you want to die?"

A short silence followed his question, then the first, a tall ebony skinned troll with tusks that curled up from his lower lip spoke in a voice that was painfully deep: "It is my duty, And better I than one who has a family. I care not whether I live nor die as long as I do so with honour..."

"In deed": A dusky gnome who leaned on a staff decorated with a worn gear of dull copper had piped: "Songs will be sung of this worthy sacrifice, the one you choose immortalized in song and tale. What better way to be remembered!"

Nodding, Jareth had looked at the last creature, swallowing hard as he met Ponds vivacious gaze: "And you Pond why would you wish to sacrifice yourself? "

A sad smile had dulled the light in Pond's eyes ever so subtly, so subtle that Jareth would not have realized it had happened if he had not been looking straight at him: "I have lived long my king, seen much and loved every second of my journey, but now... Now it is time to join my family beyond the veil. I miss them sorely, and yet I gave my wife a solemn oath that I would live for them all and never succumb to the temptation of self murder. Two millenia have I honored this oath, but I am tired. So tired, and by giving my life to save so many I would be able to meet my wife and say that I lived for them and died for life itself. That is why I wish this. Why I would welcome death."

Sincerity lit the goblins eyes like a second flame and Jareth had felt any doubt he had harboured dissolve under its light. Because he felt an answering echo in his own chest as he imagined himself surviving Sarah's death. And even though he had vowed never to ask for a sacrifice he knew, that in the end there was but one answer to give, as the troll and gnome both stepped respectfully aside leaving the now weary looking goblin alone before him.

"Are you truly certain? ": It was a superfluous question, yet Jareth had to ask it, and see the answer in Pond's greyish blue eyes as he nodded with a slight smile curling his lips: "Then it shall be you who lifts this burden.. Are you ready?"

A solemn joy had lit up his eyes and set his darkflame ablaze as he bowed and struck his own chest thrice: "Aye, for Blood" thump thump" Is Life" Thump...

Nodding at that brutally poignant words, Jareth had smiled softly as he rose and clasped Ponds wrist in a warrior's grip as he had answered: "And death is the coin of life. I will ever be in you debt. Tell me how can I repay this sacrifice? "

"By saving our world my liege. By letting the children both born and saved enjoy the same peace that we have.."

Those words had been the last that Jareth had heard the tall goblin with the deep eye's utter as the mayor and the other elders had whisked him away to hurriedly prepare him to die.

And now as Pond scaled the worn stone stairs with an eager step he flipped his hood back to reveal an expression that looked as calm and happy as a man on his way home after a long days work. But then to Pond that was precisely what he was. He was going home.

Seven moons graced the night sky and their diffuse light played over his smooth skin as Pond knelt in front of his king giving him a peace filled smile as he turned on his knees to face the crowd filling the area before them. Everyone was there the entire village gathered to honour the one who was willing to give his last for the good of all. The elders placed the stretcher on a small stone outcropping just beneath the stone, and Jareth could not refrain from glancing down at Sarah's still form willing her to move or moan anything to let him know that she was still alive. But she remained still and silent like a shimmering recumbent effigy carved from cold dead marble, far from the vibrant woman he knew waited beneath the pale skin for him to revive her.

Resting his hand on the warm skin of Pond's shoulder, Jareth squeezed gentle drawing the goblins attention away from the crowd and to him as he spoke in a soft voice: "Are you still resolved to offer up you life?"

"Yes, I remain resolved. More so now than ever. Do you see the seven moons? I have not seen seven moons since the night my sons were born. To see it again on the night where I am to join them, It is a sign, don't you think?"

"Yes": Jareth agreed: "I do..."

Below them the elders knelt in a perfect semicircle, their woad stained skin making them look as if they had been carved from the same stone as the labyrinth and then covered with swirling growths, as they spoke in unison striking their chests three times as they did so.

" Blood" thump thump" Is Life" Thump...

At first it was only six elders lead by the fat mayor but as they repeated the words and gesture, more joined in, picking up speed with each repetition.

"Blood" thump thump" Is Life" Thump...

Faster and faster, louder, and louder until it melted together into the frantic heartbeat of a dying heart, and the very air resonated with the cadence of it. Until Jareth resonated with it, and it filled him with the need to follow through, the need to insure life the need to spill blood... His palms were wet with sweat, and his pulse raced at a manic pace as the pounding heartbeat reached a thundering crescendo and Pond threw out his arms, arching his back as he presented Jareth with the lean line of his neck... And suddenly he was no longer Jareth. He was death as the woman below him was life, he was the sky to her fertile soil. He was the father who protected as she nurtured, he was the beginning and she the end. And he was the blade thirsting for the blood which ran beneath the flimsy film of flesh before him. He was all that, and more as he let the ancient magic of the stone and the sacrifice possess him and guide his hand.

The movement of the blade was barely more than a lovers caress as it glided across the taut flesh, but it left behind a weeping gash from where pewter green blood welled to flow down the sacrifices lean muscled torso, down the smooth stone to drip onto the queen below splattering her bare chest with drops that could be heard like thunder claps in the sudden silence.

Dropping to his knees, Jareth leaned Pond back against his own body, holding him up through a soft embrace, as the blood left him in a heavy deluge of warm life, carrying with it the spark of life and magic, to revive the core of the queen.

It seemed to last a frozen eternity as wave after wave of life poured forth, drenching the stone and all it touched. And then a tiny shudder passed through the goblin as his heart struggled to pump the last drops of life through the wound, drawing Jareth's attention as it was followed by words.

" See ": Pond croaked: " I see... "

"See what?"

Time stopped, as the last pewter droplet lingered on the lip of the wound glistening like a cut diamond in the diffused moonlight. But it was not that one droplet that held the attention of the Goblin king. No what held his attention was the tall slender goblin woman who glided through the crowd like a swan glides through water, her pearlescent skin awash with the luminescence of the seven moons as she raised her glowing eyes to gaze lovingly up at Pond.

"Come it is time, you have fulfilled your oath. Now join us...": Her voice was a soft wind through a wind chime, it was a summer breeze. And as she spoke four equally luminescent children sprinted from the crowd, scaling the rock with swift and sure movements to stand in front of Pond giggling happily as they reached out their small clawed hands towards him.

" Father come, mother is waiting, and we want to play with you again. It's time to go now, to let go... Come with us."

"Yes ": His skin began to glow and as the empty shell fell limp against Jareth, Pond stepped away to stand in front of the scene smiling as the children pressed in around him chattering excitedly in voices that sounded like the lilting calls of little birds. Gleaming crystal tears spilled down his cheeks as he fondly ruffled the multi coloured ringlets of the four children: "I missed you so. Every day I asked the goddess why she had taken you and left me to languish here... At last I know. And I am grateful. "

A ripple passed over the ethereal figures prompting them all to turn their gazes skywards to the conspiracy of ravens that sped towards them on midnight wings. The large birds swooping down to pass through each form causing it to dissolve with a soft sigh or delighted giggle, before vanishing into the misty night as quickly as they had appeared.

Time returned to claim dominion over the world around him as Jareth rested the now empty and lifeless husk upon the stone, staggered to his feet and climbed down the steps as fast as his cold feet would allow him. Nothing mattered to him in that moment, nothing but his need to know that it had worked and that the sacrifice made by noble Pond had not been in vain. His hands shook as he lifted her gently from her bed, smoothing the blood from her eyes as he watched her lids tremble like a captured bird.

"Sarah?": He knew that it had worked, he could feel the magic as it seeped through her skin from the sticky liquid, feel it swell inside her cores, and it was breathtaking as the magic slowly began to illuminate her from within setting her skin ablaze with swirls of blue, gold, silver and emerald green. She looked more like a fey of the ancient tales than the mortal girl that she was still pretending to be. But what truly took his breath away was not the way that she looked almost to be carved from alabaster glass but the mismatched eyes that blinked blearily up as his as she tried to focus through the thick blood coating her endless lashes.

"Jareth ?": Her normally smooth voice was scratchy and gravely and her lips looked as parched as singed wood. And yet Jareth had never seen a sweeter sight as he wrapped his arms around her, lifting her up from the sodden bed. Blood stained them both but neither cared as they revelled in the flood of magic that rushed through Sarah oblivious to the roar of joy that erupted around them at Sarah's obvious recovery.

Goddess above but there were so many things that he wanted to say to her so many things that he had never realized were unsaid until he had faced the horrifying possibility of losing her. He wanted to tell her a million banalities like how much he loved her and how she was as much a part of him as his own heart and he wanted to ramble and rave at her screaming at her that only he was ever allowed to harm her (A thought that he wisely kept to himself. ) And he wanted to grip her by the arms and shake her until her head came loose while he screamed at her for almost leaving him behind. He want to do all those things and more, yet as her small work calloused hand rested gently against his cheek all he found himself able to do was hold her as equal measures of sobs and laughter escaped him and his face was washed clean with scalding crystalline tears.

The rest of the seemingly endless night would never be anything but a vague blur for both of them as they somehow found themselves warm clean and installed into a grand Elizabethan bedroom with a massive fur nest in lieu of the usual four-poster bed that one would have expected to find in a room such as this.

It was a strange anti-climax to the drama of a blood offering, yet laying beside a sleeping Sarah swaddled in thick furs, Jareth found it impossible to feel anything but utter relief. Sarah lived her cores restored to near full strength and no matter what happened next he was certain that he would face it with Sarah by his side...

.. ... ..

The winds of winter beat against the apparently flimsy walls of their temporary home like thousands of fairies wings. Stalking restlessly from one elegant and warm room to the other Titania rubbed her arms as if to alleviate a cold that magic and heavy braziers kept her from actually feeling.

Crumbling the small scrap of parchment in her tiny hand Titania growled darkly as the simple lines danced before her mind's eye.

He lives, it said followed by the sentence that caused her anger to rise and mingle with fear. He and the bitch is in the Labyrinth. The wall is held by an impostor.

Alive, Jareth that mongrel atrocity had managed to find a way to escape certain death. Fuming she kicked a stray fairy into a nearby chest feeling grimly satisfied as the tiny creature burst like an overly ripe berry leaving a slick stain of blood and ichor on the pale wood. But that small gesture did nothing to take her churning mind off of figuring out how he had survived the iron poisoning. It was impossible and even if he by some stray act of divine intervention had managed to flush it out of his flesh then the damage should have been so extensive that he would have been incapacitated for months after if not years. So how was he moving through the Labyrinth. As Troubling as that was, it was in no way as perplexing to her as why the spell that she had finally completed around him had not brought him to her or in the very least, alarmed her to his presence.

Pouring her fourth goblet of undiluted wine of the day, she threw her head back and drained it in just two quick gulps, hoping in vain that the burning nettle wine would at least the dull the sharp weight of fear that the news had ignited in her mind. Something or someone of power was moving in the background, she was sure of it and it frightened her not to know every piece on the board.

And whoever it was who was masquerading as that vapid little mortal, she had access to some form of magical disguise strong enough that even Titania had been unable to spot its weaves and wefts as she stood atop the ramparts...

A large tan hand gripped the loosely hung cloth that covered the tents entrench, pulling it aside to allow the massive armour clad figure of Oberon to stride in with a sour look on his face.

"It is true, the warriors we dispatched to the greener parts of this dilapidated hell hole, has not returned and neither have they given any sign as to their whereabouts. That coupled with the tremors we both felt in the magical fabric of this realm and tells me that the turncoat is correct. Jareth has somehow managed to shed our spell, survive the iron poisoning, heal and restore the power of his cores. All in a few short days..."

Throwing up his hand in frustration Oberon growled: "I cannot for the life of me, fathom how that weak willed bastard has managed such a feat! He is not even pure of blood and now I fear that he has killed Asrai! "

Rolling her eyes at the mentioning of Oberon's favourite mistress Titania ignored the fact and pointed out: "But we have no way of confirming this assumption."

"No": Ripping his embossed and gilded gauntlets off of his large and still sword calloused hands with an impatient jerk, Oberon sneered: "We have not, but she ought by all rights to have sent a fairy bearing word of the quality and quantity of materials she was to collect. We have received nothing. "

Running her thumb over the crushed paper in her hand, Titania frowned deeply enough to create deep lines across her brow as she saw her worst fear suddenly spring to life: "If this is true then we must act! We must attack the encampment and crush the impostor before the unseelie gate is uncovered and Morgaine manages to force her way through. What of the other gates have they been opened? "

Holding out his arms so that the servants who seemed to have sudden materialized behind him could wisk his armour away, Oberon said: "Well the mortal gate has obviously not been opened, but as to the others I know not. But we shall know before the day is over, I have dispatched scouts to them all to discern the truth. Until then we are left to wait."

"Wait! ": Staring in wide eyed astonishment, Titania blurted out: "But we must find them, if Jareth is out there in the Labyrinth, with her by his side then we must find them, and end this threat before he can pose any true danger to our plans... I will be a goddess again Oberon and I refuse to let that atrocious half-breed steal my birth right from me again! Not again I have fought too long for this, to lose it now. Find them Oberon, send out the hunt and bring them here. Do not let them ruin this. "

She was afraid, that much was abundantly clear as she moved with agitated jerky movements. Shaking the hands of his servants away in much the same way as a wolf shakes off an annoying bug, the horned forest lord walked calmly to his wife's side: "Have no fear my lady, he will not succeed, No matter what his plan, he will fail, and with him so will she... "

His massive hands closed on her thin arms forcing her to stop her relentless pacing and face him: "You have nothing to fear my queen. We are too many for them to undo our plan now. Too powerful and I will not allow us to fail. Not now."

Turning towards the now kneeling servants Oberon commanded: "Bring the Whiteblade to me I have new orders that I would give him... "