Just a warning for you darlings, this is where the story turns dark, all the sweetness and fluff is turned way down and what is left is not as pretty as you may hope. Please note none of my personal religious beliefs are in the story when it comes to hell or death. What I have written is merely a vision of what pure evil and darkness can be, I suppose it is not really hell, but the name seems to fit. It's a bit more like Hades Underworld with Satan as a minor ruler and Persephone as the stately monarch, but that's in the next chapter... I'm gonna shut up so you can read. Enjoy!

Chapter 4: Down in the Underground

Jareth sat a dizzy Sarah down on his bed and urgently went about the room putting Sarah's things away. All the clothes he'd brought went instantly into his closet along with all his clothing. Her books settled in neat piles on his desk to be sorted onto his tightly packed bookcase later. Sarah watched as he bustled around nervously and wondered with a faint humor if this was his reaction to being afraid. Some people cried, others ran away and Jareth organized things.

While her frantic King went about his way, grumbling troubled and grim, Sarah looked around the grand bedroom. Its walls reached amazing heights; up to a dark ceiling which showed the shadow of a painting which Sarah couldn't see clearly in the dim light. The bed was abominably large, with a canopy of deep red color that reached to the ceiling; it had satin pillows and a smooth thick blanket the same blood-like color of the canopy. The beams of the bed, along with almost every other piece of furniture in the room was trimmed in silver, dulled silver to be sure, but a simply elegant one. Said furniture about the room was a deep wood desk, chair, a bookcase, a grand mirror that reached the height of the ceiling and a couch with little silk trimmed pillows. The room was lit by many tiny crystals which all emanated a sort of moon-like gleam. It was an entrancing room. But Sarah could only survey the room quickly before sternly commanding Jareth to explain to her what was going on.

He didn't answer at first, and then turned weary eyes to her. "A dangerous man is in pursuit of you."

"But why did you take me here?" She said, very angry by the way he spoke to her like a misbehaving child.

"I want you safe Sarah," He said, mirroring her frustration. "He would have been able to get to you easier there then here. I can keep him from you here."

"Who is he?" She asked again.

Jareth felt his heart growing weary with dread and he collapsed to his knees. "The only one who could possibly ever take you away from me." He said. "Irvus, the Dark King, is the son of the Devil."

There was a tapping at his door. Hoggle left his cup of tea on the table and went to answer it. He was curious as to why a visitor would come so late at night, he could think of no good reason, or any visitor for that matter. But still, a slave to his manners at least since he met Sarah, he opened the door.

The next morning Sir Dydimus found crying Ludo standing at the dwarf Hoggle's door. In his meaty hand law the only thing left in the dwarf's home that gave any indication of his whereabouts. It was as Dydimus's nose confirmed it to be, a crow feather.

Sarah awoke in Jareth's massive bed, the king of the goblins with his head on her stomach, still very much in slumber. She ran her fingers through his hair, tangling and untangling, watching faint sunlight begin to form behind the mist of the silver white curtains. They had fallen asleep in each others arms, Sarah having borrowed one of Jareth's poet shirts to sleep in. She may have grown taller since she was fifteen but still not tall enough for Jareth's clothes to not fit like a nightgown. Though it hardly covered her breasts, Sarah didn't really care. The one thing occupying her mind in the order of the morning was Jareth's words from the previous night. The Devil's son. The Devil's son was after her. Why? She was just Sarah, the Editor, the Lady of the Labyrinth, Jareth's fiancée. The last thought made her smile and she twirled her fingers through his hair.

From Irvus Sarah had the feeling of lost wariness. Like she had known for many years that he'd been there watching her from behind his shadows and she had been a lucky helpless mouse. Lucky, because in all that time that he had been watching he hadn't caused her any harm. Yet.

In he arms, Jareth moaned in his sleep, the cried out and woke, bleary eyed and wild-looking. Sarah had to grab his face in her hands and hold him firm to prevent him from thrashing off the side of the bed.

"Sarah!" He cried and then his lips came down on hers as he kissed her fiercely. The intensity of his mouth frightened her, only because she could sense his fear, whatever nightmare had tormented him had most likely involved him losing her. He sighed and buried his face in her neck, his body given to shaking slightly. Ash shadows had gathered under his lovely eyes.

"Jareth, please tell me the dream." She said.

He blanched in utter loss, no, he couldn't tell her of the dream, and it would destroy her as much as it destroyed him. Just the thought of what he had seen what darkness had followed him in his only place of true freedom, made him break inside.

"It was of Hell," He whispered softly. "And you were a prisoner there."

Sarah felt his hold on her tighten. Around her the room seemed to suddenly chill as something dawned on her.

"Jareth," She gasped. "If he had been watching me for my entire life…he must know my family, where they are and…" Jareth sat up and her fear was reflected in his eyes.

He swore and picked her up in his arms. In the next second they were gone in a cloud of glitter.

The house Sarah had grown up in was empty. But there were signs of struggle, of a battle. A lamp was over turned, along with many other pieces of furniture. The couch in the living room looked and smelled as if it had been scorched by flame. All along the house showed signs of pursuit. No one had escaped it seemed. Irvus had captured them, her family and took them to Hell. Her father, her step-mother. Toby.

Neither spoke a word.

Toby dared not to open his eyes. He was sweating and crying, the tears just flowing and he couldn't stop them. His parents hung by their wrists to the right of him, they were still unconscious, their faces, he knew were covered in blood. He had called their names for hours, until his throat ran dry and he could no longer speak even in whispers and still they never woke.

To the right of him hung a very strange creature, who like his parents was unconscious and very beaten. It was a little man of sorts, very wrinkled and wearing a poet shirt under a leather vest, which seemed more shreds of clothing then a true article altogether. He had very bright white hair hidden under a leather cap. He, like Toby and his parents, was shackled by the wrists, but he also had bonds around his stubby ankles and one band of metal over his waist. Toby avoided looking at the thing; it was the one thing in the room next to his family that wasn't dead, but it was very near death and this frightened Toby more then he could ever say.

Around them the dungeon had black walls made of stone. Scattering the floor were the thin and shell-like remains of skeletons so old even their bones were starting to grow ever delicate. There was almost no light save one beam of red luminosity that came in through a crack up near the ceiling. It shone down over Toby and his family, though the dwarfish creature hung just short of its glow. There was no door, and Toby didn't remember how he got there, so as a result all plans of escape were rather wanting in one thing: a way out.

"Sarah?" He whispered. Sarah had always been the one to save him in their story-time games. She had told him tales of how she wished him away to a far-away land then had ventured through its mazes for hours to find him. She always saved him. Maybe she could this time. "Sarah!" He screeched then his eight-year-old body failed him and he once again fell into a swimming sort of sleep from which he would not wake again 'til many hours had gone by.

Sarah was ready. She and Jareth had returned to Underground. They had gathered what it was they needed. Clothing had to be for all sort of weather, for Sarah this meant a pair of Jareth's pants, which though styled to be tight on him, was slightly loose on her. Over a slack corset Jareth had given her she wore a poet's shirt, sleeves rolled up to her elbows. For more protection and for the sake of not giving Jareth any distraction with his pants making her rump more prominent a feature she took a pair of jean shorts that Jareth had gotten from her apartment and wore those over the pants. Next she wore a pair of leather black boots which Jareth conjured for her to fit just right.

She braided her hair then twisted the long braid into a rolled bun on the back of her head. Jareth had not questioned her when she informed him that she needed to save her family. Though he now understood all of his troubled feelings from days before and he didn't want to let his precious love walk straight into the burning mouth of Hell, he wasn't about to rule her. She would have fought to find another way to evade him had he refused to let her go.

He would go with her, use his magic to protect her and battle with her for her family. He wore an outfit made of complete leather, he had been in Hell before, and the heat of it meant nothing to him. He had Sarah dress in removable layers to ensure she did not get dehydrated though he knew he had an endless water and food supply with his magic, with Sarah he found himself always being extra cautious.

"Alright," Sarah said. "Let's go to Hell."

He took her in his arms, held her shaking body against his and then took her face and kissed her. Fearing almost that this may be the last time he would be able to see her safe and healthy in his arms. The kiss grew deeper, the love springing from both of them trying to meld together in one vicious bond of feeling. They separated slowly, the last few stolen kisses hot and full of lost longing. Sarah tried to bury the feelings, the imperishable love, and the ever thriving fear. But both strong feelings flourished without her being able to calm them easily. They physically drained her, but she strived to dig out the energy she had in her to find family. Setting her lips in a grim line she raised a hand to touch his cheek gently. Then she wound her arms around his waist and together a cloud of blue flames, not glitter to Sarah's sorrow, gathered up around them and Sarah had the feeling in her lower belly of falling. The sensation would have caused her to scream were it not for Jareth's protecting arms around her. The flames did not burn though Sarah could feel heat as if she stood a distance from them, even as they wound around her ankles and licked at her cheeks. She drew back from Jareth just a little to look at his face and once again that energized love fueled her and she clung to him around his neck and kissed him once more. Like the other kisses this one was hot, searing even. Kindled by their love, but brought to a higher passion by their urgent feelings and fear.

They did not part from their kiss until the flames had subsided and Sarah looked around, half-expecting little demons with pointy horns and pitchforks to be running around. But instead she found she was under a sky of stars surrounded by a field of knee-high grass.

"This…is Hell?" Sarah said.

Jareth laughed uneasily. "No, they call this the field of dreams, that is the doorway." He pointed across the field. Sarah looked where he pointed and drew in a sharp breath. It was a cave, a mound of sorts, covered in grass but there was a wide gaping mouth which revealed only darkness.

"Let's go then," She said.

"Sarah, wait," He said and took her forearms in his strong grip. His eyes were dark and fearful. "No mortal who enters Hell may ever leave again unless they were stolen there. But I have put a spell over you so for exactly a month, just to be sure; your blood, soul and mind are all Fae. For the Fae may leave and enter Hell at will."

"A month?" She squeaked.

"Just in case something goes wrong and we may be a little delayed." He said, trying to calm her.

"Alright," She sighed and buried her head into his neck. "Alright, let's go."

Hand in hand, they walked through the grass, when they reached the mouth of the cave, Sarah squeezed his hand. She was about to step into the darkness when Jareth pulled her back.

"Sarah," He sighed sadly. "I could not bear to suffer your tears. I want to blind fold you until we reach Middle Hell; Beginning Hell is far too mortifying."

"I think I can handle it," She said.

"Believe me," He said and produced a black blindfold.

Without question Sarah allowed him to tie the cloth over her eyes. Then he took her hand and began to guide her into Hell.

There was no sound. No screams as she had thought there would be, just the soft padding sounds of boots on very old worn rocks. She could feel the stone like steps, heading downward. At first it was very cold then a very dry heat, not warmth, but dry skin cracking heat was blown against her in a sharp wind. She struggled for a moment to draw breath, and when she started to cough Jareth lifted something pleasingly cold to her lips.

"Drink," He ordered. She obeyed and tipped her head back to accept the drink. It tasted sweet, but the texture was like water and it was just as refreshing. She could feel its cold melting through her, from her lips down to her toes. He lowered what he'd held. Then he stopped Sarah and kneeled in front of her. "Climb on my back." He said. Sarah did as he wanted and hooked her arms around his neck. He held her under her knees and broke forward in a swift downward run.

Sarah felt gnarled hands and sharp nails run across her cheeks. She cried out and Jareth ran faster.

"We're almost out of the hall of spirits forgotten." He said gently. "Please don't cry again, I couldn't handle it."

Sarah quickly shut her mouth and buried her face on the back of his neck. She could feel his frantic pulse, and tried to calm him by kissing the back of his neck.

"Thank you," He sighed. The gentle touch was enough to calm his heart. Middle Hell's gates were near, he could see them. He hated Hell, he just hated it more then he ever hated any other place. Middle Hell was loud, but its sight was by far easier to bear then Beginning Hell where the deformed faces of the oldest ghosts stirred in opaque clouds to haunt the damned.

Around them the red sea of blood and skins of the dead rumbled and he carried Sarah over the bridge, singing as loud as he could to drown out the sounds of screams. In the orange sky, the sun, a fiery ball of red and black flame beat down on them. He could feel Sarah's hot body growing warmer and her breathing was once more impaired to short gasps as she struggled to bring the hard air into her soft lungs. He stopped again to hold a crystal to her lips. It filled her body once again with the magic liquid he'd made it from, and he felt her relax against him as her body instantly lowered in temperature.

He carried her for a long time over the ten mile bridge. By the end of the day when the rolling fire ball of bloody sun had reached the horizon line, he had reached the end of the bridge. Among the catacombs and caves he found a very acceptable grotto that had a deep mouth and was sheltered enough to sleep in. No souls or demons would dare touch the traveling Fae as they slept but Jareth wanted to be absolutely sure, so he passed a wall of magic around them to keep them safe from so much a pinch from any demon fingers.

He held Sarah against him, cradled warm against his body. As hard as she tried, tears began to fall, without her being able to stop them; they flowed on their own accord in hot streams.

In Hell there was no moon to light the night, no stars, no light. But in the dark of the cave Jareth could tell she was crying. He turned her around in his arms so she was facing him and kissed each tear away. She didn't know this and he probably would never tell her, but he could taste her dreams in her tears. They were sweet, full of soft days, sunsets and dawns. Dew on minty green grass, stars in a desert sky. And Underground…her friends…him. He smiled a little, he was in her dreams, and in fact he was center stage of them. She really loved him, for all his mystery and mood swings and cocky personality. He'd never felt more alive.

"I saw my baby," He sang. "Crying hard as babe could cry, what could I do? My baby's love had gone and left my baby blue, nobody knew what kind of magic spells to use. Slime and snails and puppy dog tails, thunder or lightning. Then baby said: Dance, dance magic dance, put that magic spell on me. Jump, jump magic jump, put that magic jump on me, slap that baby," He made fun and slapped her rump playfully and she giggled lightly. She didn't protest when he didn't remove his hand. "I saw my baby, trying hard as babe could try what could I do? My baby's fun had gone and left my baby blue, nobody knew…"

He continued for a long time, singing new verses and trying as hard as king could try to get her to fall asleep. When at last it seemed she would not be able to achieve true slumber he slipped a bit of magic over her and very soon she was dead asleep in his arms.

Irvus spied on the lovers in a cloud of envy. They slept fully clothed in each others arms. It was not fair, Sarah was his. Soon, once they reached the palace where he had imprisoned her family, he would have her all to himself. It would be easy. Then for fun, he would imprison that ignorant over-confident king and watch him rot for the next million years. It would be beautiful, dark and bloody. Irvus licked his lips at the thought of Sarah, looking small and helpless, spread out on his bed tangled in the sheets. The image pleased him and he shunned the true sight of Jareth and Sarah together in the cave.

He smiled and waited.

Sarah was running as fast as her legs could carry her. Her breath was pained and a struggle to take. Her hair had become undone and was falling everywhere around her. Her entire body was covered in sweat; it was dripping down her face. She had been running for a very long time, Jareth beside her was struggling just as hard as she was. But as much as her body ached she knew she could not stop for anything. They were passing through the darkest part of Hell, darkest meaning the most souls burned here. In this place the souls of rapists, murderers, kidnappers, adulterers and sinners of the blackest form were being rewarded for their deeds by having each they had committed repeated to them. For the rest of eternity. Sarah and Jareth were running because the sounds of screams and the sights of the rotting beaten souls were far more the Sarah could handle. Jareth himself was very much afraid of what he saw, he had as a child learned of the many things humans did, the many horrors they commit against one and another, but to see them with his eyes was more shocking and more disgusting then he was able to stand. They ran and soon came to the way out of this part of Hell. The passageway opened up to a large kingdom, where at the center stood a castle of splendor and horror.

Its towers cast shadows over the already shadowed world, breaking the sky with its claw like peaks. Thunder rolled and a spark of lightning the color of lava slashed into the earth not a foot from where Sarah stood. She screamed quietly and Jareth pulled her under the protection of his leather coat which he had stripped from himself to hold over them. They tumbled clumsy with exhaustion for a while until collapsing, panting in each other's arms. Sarah drew off her poet's shirt and used it to cushion their heads. He draped the coat over them, and fabricated two crystals. He held the first one to Sarah's lips and commanded her to drink which she did. The next crystal had meanwhile turned into a small meal of frozen strawberries and some other small fragments of food. They ate in silence, lying on their sides facing each other.

"We're almost there," He said softly when they had finished eating. He wiped Sarah's face with a cold hand. She leaned her face into his palm, inhaling his smell. "Soon we can reach the castle and rescue your family."

"How will we do it?" Sarah sighed. "It's not like they'll just hand over my family if I ask them nice enough."

Even though she lacked her ordinary conviction, Jareth appreciated the snarky comment, she sounded more like herself. Since entering Hell four days ago and traveling to its center Sarah had grown silent, reposed and weaker every moment they spent there.

"It is not a surprise my dear for you to realize that I have power far greater then that of the Devil's?" He said. "Trust me, do what I say when I say. If I tell you to run, you run. And never look back." He said this with such firm tone that Sarah chose not to question him, after all he was the one who had been in Hell before, not her.

She watched him for a moment. He was running his fingers over her collar bone, and he didn't notice her intense gaze upon him. There was hardly a moment when everything had happened for her to consider what costs Jareth was paying on account of her. He had abandoned his kingdom, carried her into Hell, and was using all of his magic to save her and her family. He was exhausting himself for her. Starving too, she hadn't seen him eat very much, he just gave her everything. He was moving the stars for her…

You starve and near exhaust me! I move the stars for no one… Everything you have asked I have done. How you've turned my world you precious thing.

Sarah felt herself grow cold, for the first time since entering Hell and this time it was not from the liquid filled crystals. She felt a horrid guilt for everything she had done. She waited and soon Jareth began to sleep, too exhausted to even wait for her to sleep first. Then, she moved quickly, disengaging his arm from over waist, and reaching into the endless pockets of his leather jacket. She pulled out two already formed crystals. She identified one as one of the hundred liquid crystals. She put that in a bag she made out of her poet's shirt. The other had no distinguishing purpose. She wondered if she could use it for some other way. She tried to imagine if there was some way to restrain Jareth so he would have no way to chase her once she left. Then to her surprise the crystal turned into a pair of handcuffs. It wouldn't completely restrain him but it would for a while delay him.

She took a few more blank crystals before slipping the cuffs on his wrists. She found a stalagmite sticking up from the ground nearby and she carefully dragged him to it and slung his hands over it. He didn't stir at all. She tied her hand-made bag over her side and leaned to kiss him.

"I love you," She whispered. "When I have them with me I'll come back to find you."

She turned and ran toward the castle where she knew her family was being kept. With her heart in her throat she ran to the Devil's home.

Jareth woke. In his dream he had been holding Sarah, leaning over her while she was strewn out over the pillows of his bed. He was kissing her, singing lightly. When he opened his eyes he found himself face to face with a black rock of sorts that was sticking out of the ground. He was very confused at first then he realized everything that had happened.

"Sarah," It came out a broken sigh, his voice cracked and his breath rattled out of him in a vacant sigh. Then he began to fight with his restraints, until he snapped the chains connecting the cuffs. He was lucky they weren't made of iron or else he would have been too weakened to break the manacles. Then he screamed loud and long, the crash of thunder and the sparks of lightning the only witnesses to his mourning cries. Then he sprinted downward, unsure of how long he had slept, or when Sarah had left. He had no way of knowing if she was still alive and well, or if she had fallen into the clutches of Irvus. Tears, blasted tears fell down his face as he was swallowed into the darkness of the castle's shadow.