I wanted to die.
My stomach churned and boiled, and I didn't think it was possible for a person to throw up so many times in one day. Was this what pregnancy was going to be like one day? Blathela did his best to keep my company, tried to scoop my hair out of my face, and it was increasingly difficult not to snap at him despite how much I appreciated his efforts.
It had been a few days since this... sickness... had set in. I wasn't sure what I had eaten, or if I had caught something that the goblins and Jareth were immune to, but it was starting to hurt to breathe.
Jareth came by each day to bring me food, to sit with me, but he was always gone when I woke up, and I was left with a feeling of emptiness. Why was that?
"You need to drink some water."
"Speak of the devil." I murmured, propping my arms on the toilet to support my head while I had a break from another violent evacuation.
"I'm sorry?"
"I was thinking about you and you showed up. It's an idiom."
"The first time I heard that turn of phrase, like most people learning a new language, I thought I was being called an idiot." He informed me, perching on the window sill next to me and holding out a glass of water. "I did not take it well."
"What happened to the poor soul?" I took a sip, covering my mouth as I gargled and spit it out before taking a real, true sip that did nothing to quench the burning, aching sensation in my throat.
He smirked at the memory and I couldn't help but smile despite feeling like this. I knew whatever happened in those days was terrible, but something about him, something about his penchant for mischief and his genuine love of all things devious made me feel better. Made me smile.
"You know, you always smile when you're thinking of me." He teased me. I whacked leg half-heartedly, closing my eyes again at the respite from regurgitation. "Come eat something. Rest."
"No." I moaned, gagging at the thought of food.
"Better to have something to throw up than nothing." He insisted.
"I hate this" I murmured, letting him help me up and reveling in the warmth radiating off his skin. "I feel like I'm dying."
He didn't say anything as he made me eat some bread, drink a little more water, and put me to bed. He just sat by me and pet my hair, humming a tune so familiar to me. It sounded like the song he had sung when we first met on the bridge, but so incredibly different at the same time. I found myself humming along off-key despite not knowing the words, the music flowing between us like electricity. The soothing tingle along my skin helped me slip into much needed sleep.
Jareth's POV
The pull was magnetic, too enticing and near to truly resist. Just being near her fulfilled a primal need I had pushed down a lifetime ago to quell the pain. One I thought I could achieve with her, with Sarah.
I closed my eyes against those memories, those fiery green eyes that had burned their mark into my soul, into every piece of my existence. I saw her everywhere, in everything. In every hall of my castle, in every goblin that I interacted with on a daily basis. In Winter's brown hair, her love for timepiece clothing and the genuine, true love that fueled everything that she did. The only thing that didn't bring her to mind were those piercing, indigo blue eyes that never seemed to have an end. Where Sarah was fire, Winter was water. Where Sarah found every reason to express her displeasure, Winter wanted to appreciate the life around her, to learn why things existed. In Winter's eyes, I could see the universe in every way that we could make it together.
I shook my head from those infantile thoughts, steeling myself once more. I brought my hand to her forehead, easing her spirit, and drawing out the energy behind her eyes. Once I used creativity to fuel another being; now I needed to use energy to fuel my home.
The delicate light flowed from behind her skin, her pale skin ashy with every drop I pulled. Sweat continued to bead her temples, and her lips trembled in a small whimper. Her pain lashed out at me, an angry red scar that was festering in our connection. It was necessary, and it struck deep within my soul to know that it needed to be done.
I trapped my takings in one of my crystals, pressing my lips to her forehead despite myself and tucking her in further. My children of the labyrinth gazed up at me in trepidation as I stalked through the halls, down through the dungeons, into the room I kept locked under my magic. Even from this distance I could feel the discourse of the goblins that had come after my reign had started. The ones who had never known the peace I offered.
The bare room flickered in and out of clarity, the connection fragile these days. I waved away the ringlets of thick, physical smoke that surrounded the small table in the center of the room. The blue flame resting inches above the surface of the table filled the room with a cold, familiar feeling. Lifelessness.
Standing in front of the table, I opened my palm and summoned the red flames that made up my Winter, her beautiful soul. I blew on them, watching the colors intertwine, the colors burning and growing together, and it broke my damned heart. The flames danced together, bringing heat and light to the room, and I felt my direct link to my labyrinth and all of the life within it grow stronger, almost vibrant. It was... intense. I hadn't felt like this since I had first experimented with my power, growing and molding it, nurturing it. It had been so long since I had wanted to do it for someone else. And now I was going to lose her to my own selfish desires, another pawn sacrificed in the grand scheme of my games. Because of deals made long ago, because of my own nature.
I sighed, leaning against the table and hanging my head.
This was the only way.
