Hi-ho, everyone! This is your friendly neighborhood fan fiction author in the middle of some miserable January weather; well, what'd you expect? I've always hated January; it's so bleh! The only month with worse weather than that is February. It's the bleakest month of the year, even with Valentine's Day and all that. The weather's just atrocious!

But I didn't come here to complain; y'all want an update, right? Okay; (crack knuckles) here we go! By the way, Jareth wears his black outfit in this chapter. Squee!

"How do you like that? I'm not on the job five minutes and already she's making advances to me."—Groucho Marx, Duck Soup

Chapter 7: Jareth's Precious Thing

It can't be. It just can't!

I knew Jareth had a thing for Sarah, but there's no way she could feel the same about him! It doesn't make sense!

At the same time, though, I've watched her around him; I don't think she notices the way her cheeks turn a faint pink, or the way her hair seems to float slightly by its ends. There's only one thing that can make a girl do that. I just hope he treats her the way she deserves to be.

Jareth came to say good night to Toby after his parents tucked him in.

"Hi," Toby whispered with an excited smile, "Are you okay?"

"Oh, I'll be all right," he chuckled.

"Is your brother a bad guy or something?" Toby asked tentatively, not looking at him. The man sighed.

"I haven't spoken to my brother for a long time," he answered carefully, "We didn't get along well as children. I suppose we still don't."

"How come?" the boy asked innocently as he scooted up to him. Jareth looked at him, wondering how much to tell him. Remembering this child had been attacked by his brother's subjects, possibly at his orders, he decided to be honest with him.

"I don't trust my brother, Toby," he said quietly as he took his hand, "He's a bit of a troublemaker; he's done a lot of terrible things that you don't need to hear about."

"So he is a bad guy," said Toby matter-of-factly. Jareth smiled crookedly and chuckled, then ruffled the boy's hair while Toby giggled.

"You're an intelligent boy, Toby," he said appreciatively, "That's a very good thing. You have incredible power and I'm proud of you for using it honorably." Toby smiled with his icy blue eyes sparkling in the dark and he crawled over to Jareth and hugged him with his eyes shut tight.

"You like to act tough, Jareth," he grinned, "but to me, you're like a big teddy bear sometimes…like Ludo!"

Jareth was mortified inside and felt himself deflating.

"Thank you, Toby," he smiled, "Now I want you to go to sleep. I'm going to see your sister."

"Okay." Toby snuggled back under his quilt with Lancelot. "Jareth…I'm worried about Sarah, but I feel better knowing you're protecting her. Thank you." Jareth smiled and touched the child's face. Then he left through his window; Toby's face fell and he hugged Lancelot tightly.

"I'm just a kid, Lancelot," he said sadly, "I can only do so much. I'll protect Sarah the best I can, but I'll need everybody's help." He laid down and closed his eyes.

Jemna was waiting for him on Sarah's balcony; she was sitting on the banister with one of her legs swinging over the front yard and her other knee supporting her elbow, the hand of which held yet another flowerette, a white gardenia. Her black cape blew in the breeze with her short shaggy hair tickling her cheeks, her gorgeous eyes touched with moonlight. She was like a guardian of the night.

But the night held no beauty for the elf queen; her lovely eyes were troubled, as was evidenced by the impatient way she was smoking her gardenia, like a dragon itching for its gold.

"You're worried about something." His black cape caught the edge of her eyesight and she looked up to see her brother standing straight as a tree, gazing ahead with eyes as troubled as her own.

"I'm that obvious, huh?" she said darkly, "The way I'm puffing like a smokestack." He sat down facing the window, letting his cape fly behind him.

"I can tell even without the flowers," he said, "Suppose you tell me about it?" Jemna sighed in a white cloud of fragrance and spun on her bottom to place her feet on the floor. She dropped a D-bomb under her breath before snuffing out her flower in her bare hand.

"I thought I should be the one to tell you this, Jareth," she said, "as your sister, as one ruler to another." He looked at her expectantly; her eyes were narrowed and closed. She then looked straight at him and said, "Amalthea the Unicorn is gone, Jareth. She's been stolen!"

"Stolen?" he said calmly with a weird look, "What do you mean stolen?"

"Abducted, imprisoned, kidnapped, captured, absconded with, taken hostage, whichever you like," she said, "She's being held against her will, and I think I know who did it." Jareth looked at her, his face intensely inquisitive.

"Jathan," he guessed calmly.

"Who else has enough power to even dare to capture a unicorn?" said Jemna, "The kingdom's in an uproar over this."

"I'm sorry to hear this, Jem," said her brother, "What are you doing about it?"

"That's why I'm here." She leaned back on the rail and dug her toe into the ground. "I met with the Elf Council, and together we gathered at the Pool of the Chosen to find out who is best suited to rescue such a creature as Amalthea." She knelt on the banister long-ways and steeled herself for his reaction.

Jareth's fist clenched almost involuntarily, stretching the leather of his glove. It all made sense now—the gargoyles, Jemna's visit, everything.

He looked up sideways at his sister with a careless-looking yet narrow expression and stood to face her. She was looking down, unable to meet his eyes.

"Jemna," he said her name quietly with a hand on the banister, then his voice progressed to fierce, "if you dare to tell me they've chosen Sarah…my Sarah…I will assume owl form and claw your face to ribbons."

"I'm sorry, Jareth," she said quietly and lowly, "Truly, I am. I know how you must feel about this."

"BLAST IT, JEMNA!" His fist hit the rail like a bowling ball. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Please keep your voice down, Jareth," she replied quietly, "You'll wake her." Jareth swiftly got in her face with anger in his eyes; Jemna met them unflinchingly and unmoving, her brother's cape blowing around them both.

"Why?" he accused, "What are you going to do, whisk her away in her sleep and hold her captive unless she rescued your precious unicorn? Is that your clever plan?"

"Don't speak nonsense," she said, still calm yet cold, "I have no such plan. Unlike you, brother, I'm not afraid to swallow my pride and beg properly. I will not stoop as low as kidnapping." He turned swiftly away from her, whooshing her hair forward. He put his hand on the rail again and looked through the windows of the door; he saw Sarah sleeping beautifully in bed with her music box playing sweetly on her bedside…and he was glad she hadn't seen him throwing a mild tantrum.

"Why her, Jemna?" he asked, his sister now at his side.

"Unicorns are seen only by those who search and trust, as far as mortals go," she explained, "They favor the young and innocent, mostly women and children. Sarah is a perfect balance of all these things but additionally, she is strong, loving, compassionate, wise to the ways of magic, and very tenacious. Your Labyrinth is irrefutable proof of that." Jareth half-smiled.

"And if I may say so, Jarry," she added, "she is quite lovely." His face fell and he straddled the rail, resting an elbow on one knee.

"Lovely is not the word I would use to describe Sarah," he said, "She's beautiful…(He clenched another fist)…beautiful and frustrating."

"Frustrating? How?" she asked. He didn't look at her, which she expected; she knew her brother to be somewhat shy in matters of love, which he had never really experienced before…so really, he was shy about emotions he wasn't previously familiar with. She's always rather liked that about him; it suggested a sensitive nature that was usually trumped by dealing with those idiotic goblins every day.

"She's in love with me and doesn't know it," he said, "She's started to discover her feelings and she's fighting them tooth and nail. She's only barely begun to scratch the surface and she's scared, but of what? Of me? Of her feelings?"

"Of the fact that you may well be the first person she's ever felt this way about?" she suggested, "Of having feelings for another person that, like you, she is unfamiliar with? She's a young girl, Jarry. Give her time and she'll come around. Who knows?" She leaned down next to him with a smile. "This mission may even bring you together. It happens often. Think of it this way: Once she's back in our world, you'll be highlighted in her thoughts, naturally. You face danger together, engage in an epic battle, and through some magical circumstance, she discovers her love for you, declares it for all to hear, and lo and behold, she becomes a princess…your princess."

He looked at her sarcastically. She was smiling.

"Doesn't that sound fun?" she beamed.

"It's possible the overbearing scent of your flowers has clouded your judgment," he said, "but I prefer to think you're just over-romanticizing this." She laughed.

"Congratulations, Jarry," she clapped him on the shoulder, "Your sister's a woman. Be sure to tell that to Lord Gimble; I'm sure he'll be relieved of the assurance." Jareth stood up.

"Jemna," he interrupted, "let's get back to the subject. Are you absolutely certain that Sarah is the chosen one?"

"The Pool of the Chosen never chooses wrongly, brother," she said gently in her rich yet flinty voice as she gently touched him, "You know that. I just wanted you to know because you're so close to her."

Her brother looked intensely at her, his eyes slightly misty; he hugged her closely, wrapping her in his cape with one arm.

"Thank you, sister," he murmured humbly, "Thank you for coming to me yourself to tell me." He didn't see her eyes turn emotional as she hugged him back. She loved it when he called her "sister." He'd called her that ever since they were children! Family ties were a big thing among the Fae, especially siblinghood, and Jareth and Jemna had always been particularly close. She closed her eyes, allowing one tear to drip.

"I love you, Jarry," she said, "That's why it was so hard for me to bring you this news. I knew what it would do to you. I bet Jathan did, too."

"Jemna, are you sure it was him?" he asked as he pulled back. She sighed.

"The night we went to the Pool," she explained sadly, "I asked it to reveal Amalthea's captor if it could. Sometimes it can, sometimes not. It started to show us, but a gust of wind disrupted the water and destroyed the image. Only someone with strong magic can do that, and the only people I know like that are you, Jathan, and the rest of our family. He's the only one I know that would so brazenly cross borders like this—stealing a unicorn! It's unheard of!"

Jareth nodded. "So what's your clever plan?" She sat on the end of the rail that was attached to the house, leaning against the wall as she lit up another flowerette. She took a long drag and exhaled calmly, releasing a cloud scented with a strong smell of hyacinths that hit Jareth like a train.

"First, there's the matter of her parents," she said, "I'd like you to reorder the time around them so that only a second will have passed for them."

"Done," he nodded. She folded her hands and laid her chin on them thoughtfully with her flowerette in her teeth.

"Tomorrow I want to take Sarah to the Elf Kingdom," she mused, "We're having the Feast of the Summer Harvest and I'd like her to be a guest of honor—Toby, too. And you're invited, of course."

"Toby?" Jareth asked, "Why?"

"He's in as much danger as Sarah," she said, "He can stay in the castle, where he'll be safe, surrounded by elves and magic. I'm also inviting Hoggle and their other friends; they'll act as guardians." He nodded.

"I'd rather he was with you than exposed here, even with my goblins," he agreed, "I'll station some in the house to watch the parents."

"Yes, of course." Jemna took a small drag. "Now, there's nothing more we can do tonight; go watch over Sarah and I'll stand guard out here."

He looked at her for a moment; she was still smoking her flowerette and watching the sky. She jerked her head toward the window.

"Go on," she said, "She doesn't bite." He half-smiled wryly.

"I beg to differ," he muttered as he slipped into Sarah's room and quietly crept over to her bed. Her head was turned to the right, her dark eyelashes brushing her cheeks, which were pink from the warmth of her quilts. A bit of moonlight managed to touch her face; she looked like she was sprinkled with moondust.

She was beautiful.

Carefully, as if treading sacred ground he was unworthy of, he moved a strand of hair from her face. He watched her with deep eyes, wondering what she was dreaming of without the assistance of his crystals.

He leaned over her and gently pressed the side of his face to hers; her skin was warm and smooth under his cool cheek. Some of his hair brushed her face and he stayed like that with his eyes closed, taking in her presence.

He remembered the first time he ever saw her…

He had just perched on a pine tree in the park woods; his head was still throbbing from the goblins' loud partying and he only needed an hour or so to relax in the quiet solitude of the pines. It was precisely an hour later that he heard her footsteps nearby and her panting as she ran frantically.

"Mama!" she cried, "Papa!" She tripped over her skirt and fell facedown in the grass. She was dressed up like a princess.

She lifted her grubby face from the dirt and panted while crying. Then she looked up and saw him.

She drew a slow breath with wide eyes and it made him curious. Hadn't she ever seen a barn owl before? She was staring at him like he was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen!

This was making him uncomfortable; he ruffled his wings and started to fly off.

"Wait!" cried the child as she scrambled after him, "Wait, Mr. Owl! Don't go!"

He twisted his head to look back at her; she was following him! Why was she following him?

"Please help me out of here, Mr. Owl!" she pleaded, "I'm lost! I can't find my way home! Mama's waiting for me!"

Oh! He remembered hearing a young woman calling from her house for a "Sarah" earlier. Was this her?

The owl fluttered to the ground and studied her; she was a lovely child with shoulder-length hair of a rich brown and big green eyes that were still wet, and her face was red and covered with dirt and tear stains.

"Please," she whimpered, "I need you."

The owl gave a startled hoot; she needed him. She couldn't know he'd seen her house, she couldn't! She was only a child; she couldn't be more than seven! What made her think an owl could lead her home?

Her faith, perhaps? Her unwavering, childlike faith? None of the other children he observed had anything like that. She had an aura of magic around her that he'd never felt, too.

His mind was made up; he fluttered away a few feet and looked at her. Getting the message, she got up and ran after him as he flew. They paused only for her to catch her breath.

Finally, she bent over with her hands on her knees, huffing and puffing with red cheeks. A small red book plopped at her feet.

"Oh!" She picked it up, dusted off the cover, and touched the lettering of the title.

"Labyrinth," she read. The owl perched on her shoulder beside her.

"Is this for me?" she asked. He nodded with a small hoot and rubbed his head on her face. She giggled and pet him with her eyes closed.

'Well done,' he thought to her lovingly, 'you precious thing.' He heard her gasp and flew away. He perched in a tree nearby just in time to see her mother come running out in tears with her arms out to the child.

"Sarah!" she cried.

"Mommy!" Sarah yelled as the two embraced tearfully and joyfully.

The king watched silently from his perch; he couldn't believe he'd gone out of his way to help a mortal child. And yet, her declaration of "I need you" had stuck in his mind and for the first time ever, he wanted her to need him. He vowed then and there that he would watch over her and protect her and be near her if she ever needed him again.

Quietly and suddenly, he spread his wings and flew away.

Jareth opened his eyes, his face still pressed to Sarah's. She was 19 now, a high school senior. She'd come a long way since that day; it was miraculous to him that she would still need him after so long. She probably didn't even remember that time. She was older now, but she was still a believer, still beautiful…

"You're still precious," he whispered softly. He carefully lifted his head and brought her hand to his lips as softly as a butterfly alighting on a flower. He then put it back down and sat on the floor against the side of her bed, withdrawing a few crystals for entertainment.

Author's Review:

Ah, me; young love! Or immortal love, or whatever!

Okay, references!

In case y'all need an explanation, the italic beginning is Hoggle.

The "D-bomb" is, of course, the D-word; I make it a point not to put expletives in my stories, even if they were in the movie. I'm sure y'all can figure that out.

Amalthea the Unicorn is a dead ringer of the Last Unicorn, whose human name was Amalthea. I hope some of y'all have seen that movie; it's so cute! Rankin/Bass forever!

The entire memory of little Sarah is a tribute to Fruits Basket, when Tohru Honda was guided home by a mysterious boy who is later revealed to be Yuki Sohma (kawaii!). And the Mr. Owl thing, just to clarify, is NOT from the story "The Adventures of Sarah and Mr. Owl," I promise!

"You're still precious" is a tribute to Takuto and Mitsuki from Full Moon Volume 3, I think; except Takuto's line was "you're still short." The face thing was also from that.

And…I think that's it. Any questions, comments or cookies? You know what to do! See you next time!