One day, when the fate of the world again rests upon your shoulders, you will understand the importance of this moment and remembering who you are.
As Jareth paced the cold floor of the throne room, his eyes downcast upon the cold stone, he heard the voice of his father repeating in his mind. Remember who you are.
"Jareth?"
Her voice startled him, his every nerve ending alert and on edge as he spun to face the beautiful woman who had pledged herself to him. Never in the hundreds of years that he had spent by her side had Jareth so appreciated the warmth and caring in Sarah's eyes as he did in that moment. She kept her distance, watching him with patience and understanding as he came to terms with all that had happened in the last three hours… but he could see how desperately she yearned to wrap herself around him.
Nodding once, Jareth released her from the obligations of propriety, allowing her to fling herself across the room and into his arms. Her scent wafted over him like a wave, her small frame crashing into him with a force that would have knocked him to his knees if not for Farnig watching dutifully from the corner. Her arms wrapped around his waist as they held each other, lost in a long moment of silence.
"All is well." He whispered, pressing his nose to the crown of her head and breathing in the smell of dust and old books and pine wood. He could tell that she had distracted herself in the tower of the Author, writing away her stress and anxiety and fear. Negotiations with the Trolls had taken hours and throughout that time, Sarah had dutifully remained where he had left her until she had been summoned back to his side.
"Then why are you shaking?" She asked, tightening her grip around her betrothed. The hours that had passed had been long and for a while she had panicked in the thought that some terrible creature had killed the Goblin King. Even the queen mother had been terrified of the implications of the return of the Trolls. The horrifying stories she had told Sarah as they huddled amid the cushions in the tower had made Sarah's blood run cold. Jareth had been just a child; she could understand why that terror had spread through him like wildfire.
"I am not." He puffed out his chest, trying to act strong and brave before the woman who had captivated his heart. He would not allow his own fear to cripple her.
She kept her face pressed against his strong chest, breathing in the scent she had come to associate simply as Jareth. It was warm and calming and reminded her of wet grass after a torrential downpour. It filled her with a sense of courage she would never have guessed she possessed. Once she had gathered enough strength from his strong embrace and comforting scent, she took a half step back. When he tried to remove his arms from around her, she only tightened her grip, her doe eyes pleading with him to be as open and honest with her as she had always been with him. "Tell me."
He closed his eyes, taking a couple of deep breaths as he tried to compose himself. "The Trolls have come to seek our assistance in a war they believe is starting. It seems the Humans are digging, for what we can only assume, but they are digging none the less."
"I thought it was impossible for the Humans to penetrate the Underground?" Within her first year in the Underground she had learned that, while technically their realm existed beneath the non-magical world of the Humans, the Underground technically existed in its own plane. It was separate from the Aboveground and only penetrable by magic. She had been made to understand it was impossible for a human to merely wander into their safe haven.
"Impossible is relative." Jareth breathed, brushing his fingers through his messy hair. "Can they walk into the Underground or dig in as the Trolls fear? No. Can they sense our presence? Absolutely."
"How?"
"It's much more complicated than you would think, but the big fear that the Trolls have now is that, while in very limited means, Humans do possess magic. If our presence was discovered, it would not be long before someone of strong faith and limited magic found a way to lift the veil that protects us."
"A human could do that?" Sarah asked, her heart racing nervously in her chest.
He stared into her eyes for a long moment before he dared to respond. "You did."
"What?" Confusion flooded her soft features, her brow furrowing in confusion. "Of course I didn't. What are you talking about?"
"How else did you think it was possible for your friends to visit you in your world? None of them possess any magic at all." Jareth explained as if it had been obvious from the very beginning.
"But I didn't do anything!" She still could not wrap her head around the idea of possessing magic before she transitioned.
"You gave Howart the bracelet. It was already imbued with your power."
"Hoggle."
Jareth smiled lithely. He knew the names of her friends by this point, but he still needed them to fear him and he loved the fierce loyalty that embedded itself in the heart of his beloved. "Don't fret, my love. As long as the magic of the Underground remains strong, we can continue to thrive without fear."
"How does magic become weak?" She asked, thinking back to all the times she had carelessly used her magic for personal gain. She could only imagine the damage she had done.
"Inconsistencies. Ruptures. There are many ways magic can be weakened. That is why we lock away periods of time or places that have been compromised." He explained, rubbing his thumb along her lip to free it from her teeth as she nervously nibbled away upon it.
"What do you mean, compromised?" She could hear Farnig chastising her earlier that morning as they made their way to the Throne Room. There are things about magic you still do not understand. There may be reasons certain period of time are locked away from the Author.
"Magic is not infallible. Think of each spell as a tightly woven thread. Think of each word as a different string tied together tightly. If one string breaks, it isn't long before they all fall apart. Revisiting certain magics make them weak. It's why we lock away pockets of time or areas that were infected with Dark Magic." She felt the shiver run through him at the very thought of Dark Magic. It was taboo to speak about, but throughout the history of magic, there had been those who had turned to Dark Magic, those who had splintered reality. They were never talked about, never revisited, and stripped from history entirely. The very thought was terrifying.
But never had she been explained as to why she could not visit these periods of time. Not until now.
"Long before I rose to power there was a great schism. The races of the Underground were in chaos and turmoil and magic was slowly being stripped away from every corner of the Allworld. My mother told you the story, did she not? How my father created the position of the Author in order to keep magic from extinguishing all together?"
"About that…" Sarah again nibbled nervously at her bottom lip, her gaze falling to the place where Jareth's shirt rested against his strong collarbone. "Was it really your father who created the position of Author?"
She did not raise her gaze, but she could feel his burning into her, the way his grip seemed to tighten upon her small frame. Above her, his eyes narrowed dangerously, his heart all but stopping in his chest. "What did you do?"
"Nothing…" she whispered nervously. "I just… I may have looked into the moment the Author was created."
His breathing stopped altogether and when she finally felt brave enough to lift her gaze, she was greeted not by her fiancée or the man who had stolen her heart, but by the fearsome Goblin King who had terrified her for months after she had managed to rescue Toby. His features were contorted into a terrifying scowl, his eyes dark and shrouded by his hair.
"Ease yourself, my liege." Farnig called from the far corner, stepping up to Sarah's side. Forcefully he pushed the Author back, forcing his body between that of his King and the woman. "She did not understand the implications of her actions."
She was spiraling downwards, the terrifying implication that she had done something to ruin their safety weighed heavily upon her shoulders. Jareth was afraid. Whatever the Trolls had warned him about was enough to have him shaking in her arms. His one solace had been the safety and unity of the magic of the Underground. This was his magic, magic that had come from his sheer will and determination to protect his people. In his mind, the safe haven he had created really was impenetrable. Each Author had been chosen carefully, appointed based on their abilities and their determination to protect the magic and wonder in the world. It never crossed his mind that Sarah's obstinate nature would be an issue. He never considered that Sarah's curiosity would get the best of her and that she would create yet another Schism.
"I'm sorry." Sarah breathed, feeling the fear begin to fill her soul as she remained hidden behind Farnig's protective stance. "What does this mean? What did I do?"
"We must act, Jareth. We must seal the Schism. We must prevent another war." There was no doubt in the Faye General's mind that if the world collapsed again as it had in the past, the Trolls would turn upon them. They would descend like a plague and all hope would be lost. The Faye, brave and strong and seeped in a deep magic, stood no chance against the brute strength of the malicious and war mongering species.
But the King heard nothing; Jareth was lost. Lost in the fear and the rage and the moment where choices must be made. The moment where, if a King were to choose the wrong path, every person beneath his rule would suffer and die. Sarah was the Author. She was the focal point of all magic, of all creation, of the existence of both the Underground and the Aboveground. If her magic was weakened, it could mean the fall of every creature and every human to have ever breathed or walked upon the unforgiving Earth. He should have known better. He should have learned from the last time his heart was so betrayed by someone he held so much reverence for.
He should have learned from him.
He was a child again. Snarling in rage as he stared upon the dark mound engulfed in that damaging purple light, the same purple light that stripped him of his sight and suffocated him. He could feel the betrayal and the heartbreak. He could hear his mother sobbing. He could see the darkness begin to snuff out the purple light, begin to shroud the mound in its obliterating darkness. Soon it would be gone, this place eradicated from existence to protect the wellbeing of every one of his subjects. How unfair it was that he should suffer such a loss so that his people could thrive. He had given them everything, everything, and still they wanted more.
The mound moved, straining against the darkness and the purple light, coughing against the suffocating aroma. The eyes were vibrant, filled with tears as they stared back at him, a large hand reaching out to touch him but falling short as his mother pulled him farther away. The voice was raspy and choked. "Remember who you are…."
He could see fires and war, death and carnage, but mostly he could see the blood pouring from the helm of the fallen Faye soldier all those millennia ago.
Author's Notes: How I've missed you guys! Things have been crazy and are only going to get crazier between now and Christmas. I'll try my hardest to keep up with these chapters.
Sarah is in trouble!
This chapter was more a little filler to start explaining what is going to go on. The next chapter is BIG. I've almost got it finished and its almost twice as long as any of the first three chapters.
Hang onto your butts! -first "game" of the story. Im adding an original character. First person to tell me where that quote is from gets a human named after them! :) Leave your guess and your name in your review
As always, all my love.
Kaas