Chapter 13: The Thirteenth Hour

Sarah ground her teeth. She was staring into a shopfront window, trying to angle her body so she could see their reflection as much as she could.

Sarah had reached the main road and as if hit by lightning, she suddenly remembered that she had just kissed Jareth. Had just said goodbye to him. And she knew instinctively that Icca had attempted to destroy her memory of it.

And he had for the few short minutes, it took to walk away from him, but then she felt her own magic bubble up and like it was protecting her, it removed the blockage and her memories came flooding back.

As did her emotions. He had declared he loved her, that she was his, that he sacrificed himself to keep her safe from Diddershins.

And then she had to kiss him goodbye.

Literally.

Tears rushed freely from her eyes and she did nothing to stem the flow even as strangers peered curiously at her.

She wanted to spin around and return to Jareth as soon as she could remember he was there. But she was smarter than that. Icca would only remove her memories with stronger magic. Instead, she watched him from the shop window until they both changed into birds and flew away.

Then she took off back to her car. It was a short twenty-minute drive until she pulled up outside the house in Harrows Lane.

She took a deep breath and climbed out the car. She locked it as she strode up the footpath, shoving her keys into her jacket pocket.

"Careful, love," came a voice from behind her. One of the neighbours she vaguely recognised from the lane was standing on the footpath outside her house. She was leaning heavily against her walking frame and staring at her through thick glasses.

"Pardon?" Sarah asked politely.

"A woman got trapped in that house a while back," she said, eyeing the house warily. "It is dangerous and an eyesore but a protected building. You often see a security guard prowling about but funnily enough, he never found the girl who got stuck there." This last statement was accompanied by an eyeroll.

Sarah knew she was the one who got stuck but wondered who the mysterious security guard was. She hadn't seen anyone but Jareth and Ismaila in the house and they wouldn't have been seen from the outside.

"It's haunted," the elderly lady continued. "And it's the home of a noisy owl. A damn nuisance."

At first, she considered that it was Jareth but then she knew, without knowing how she knew, that Ismaila somehow left the house without her neighbours noticing her walk to the adjacent park. It would have stirred up too much speculation if Ismaila just left the house via the front door every day. Who lives in an abandoned and (supposedly) haunted house?

And what better way of leaving a house undetected than as a bird.

She knew she retained some of her magic and it would make sense if she could still transform into a bird. It might be another one of those innate abilities the Council could not sever from her.

"Do you not think that the owl might account for some of what seems like ghosts?" Sarah asked, taking another step closer to the door. She was beginning to wonder if being near magic addled the brains of mortals, like it had with Travis and to a lesser degree, Gavin.

"What are you doing anyway?" the older lady asked. "I've seen you here before. I will call the police."

"No, yer won't," said a familiar gruff voice. Sarah turned around to see an elderly man hobbling from the side of the house. He wore a security guard uniform, had a wrinkled face, a large nose, and familiar blue eyes. The man looked and sounded like a human version of Hoggle. "She's here to meet with me."

"You know this house needs to be ripped down," the elderly lady started shouting at Human-Hoggle. "It's an eyesore. It brings down the value of our houses. We are taking this house to court and we will win this time."

Human-Hoggle rolled his eyes. "Ms Williams, I am Mister Joe Hoggle." He indicated to Sarah that she should follow him. She did so with caution as they went around the side of the house.

"Hoggle?" she asked as soon as they were out of range of the angry neighbour who was still bellowing at them. For a frail looking elderly lady, she had a strong set of lungs on her.

He nodded. "I've been doing this job for years. Keeping up appearances. Stopping people from breaking in. I'm not the only one of course. But it is my shift. The King can make us look human enough. But it ain't real. We only really make an appearance when the neighbours start paying too much attention." He paused from his rambling to draw a deep breath. "I is Hoggle really, but magic makes me look human to the untrained eye."

Now that he mentioned it, he was suddenly looking like Hoggle again, and she was once more looking down at him as he shrunk to his diminutive height.

"I never knew."

Hoggle shrugged. "I haven't had a shift in a long time. I was bogged."

Sarah's gave a tentative sniff of the air. "You don't smell like you've been bogged."

"Jareth decided to undo my punishment," Hoggle growled. "All this time he has been able to remove the stench and yet, a decade ago, he made me live with a goblin that had been dipped for over a year." He shuddered. "I only gots away when the goblin left for the Barrens."

She didn't ask what the Barrens were, instead she watched Hoggle waddle to a side door and swung it open. Sarah followed him inside.

"Why were you punished? And why were you unpunished?" Sarah asked as he shut the door behind them.

"I was punished for helping his mother return Underground and unpunished because someone had to do this shift and not many of us like or are capable of pretending to be human enough for the job."

"He punished you for helping his mother?"

Hoggle shrugged again. "Queen Ismaila claims he did so only to keep up appearances. Gotta shows the High Court yer doin' somethin' for insubordination."

"I've never noticed a security guard before," she commented, looking around the hallway they stood in. It appeared to be a servant's corridor.

"It was a rare enough job 'til this business with Lord Gly," Hoggle muttered. "If any mortals poked their noses in before, Jareth would send one of us to placate them with our presence. That ol' biddy hasn't stopped bein' a nuisance, though."

"Why doesn't Jareth just do the house up and let Ismaila live here like a typical person?"

"Because we are not supposed to be drawing attention to her existence, Sarah," came another voice. This one cooler, crisper and curter than Hoggle's.

She spun around to see Jareth leaning lazily against the wall, tossing an apple up and down. Sarah didn't engage her brain before she completed her turn and started racing down the corridor to him.

She threw her arms around his waist and pressed her face against his chest, inhaling his scent and squeezing him tight. She vaguely heard Hoggle splutter and Jareth took a sharp breath as the apple he had been holding fell to the ground.

"Sarah?" he asked, softly. "What is the meaning of this?"

"I didn't think I would ever see you again," she muttered, glancing up at his bemused face.

"I wouldn't think you would want to," he said, stiffly. He still hadn't reciprocated the hug, and Sarah suddenly felt very awkward and pulled away, blushing red.

"Did…the park…did that not…it didn't happen for you, did it?" she asked, cheeks now flaming red.

Jareth's stoic features softened instantly. "You remember?"

"I do," she said, feeling awash with relief that it wasn't a figment of her imagination. "I hadn't walked very far from you, when my magic fought his and won."

Jareth was now grinning at her—his snaggletooth glinting in the low light of the overhead lantern, and Sarah could hear Hoggle muttering and swearing.

"Hoggle, leave us," Jareth instructed without taking his eyes off her. "Now."

She heard the swing and slam of a door and knew they were now alone. As the ringing sound of the door faded, Jareth brushed his thumb against her jaw.

"That's my Sarah," he said. "Is that why you came here?"

"I don't really know why I rushed here," she replied. "I knew I needed to talk to your mom, but I didn't expect to see you here."

"I always attend when someone enters the house," he replied. "The creatures I have charged with the duty of care of this house, aren't really up to defeating actual intruders."

"I never knew you hired security guards. I have never seen one here before."

"And you won't," Jareth replied. "They lurk, and only show up when nosey neighbours get too close. Or if we notice them spying on the house. Illusions are fantastic things." He smirked. "There is a rock that appears randomly in the street that everyone around here will think is the security company's vehicle."

"But why haven't I seen them?" she asked.

"You are their Champion, and they have no desire or wish to chase you away," he tried to clarify. "Even before that, the house knew you and let you in as a child. The goblins didn't instantly scare the other two boys that were with you off, because your presence offered them a certain amount of protection."

"I am surprised you're allowed to have goblins in the Aboveground," Sarah mused.

"Loophole exploitation." He was now running his thumb down the shell of her ear. "Do you remember when you first discovered Toby was missing from his cot and you saw a lump move through the blanket?"

Sarah nodded slowly even while she scowled at him in disapproval. He grinned.

"There was a goblin there, but by the time you lifted up the sheet, it had vanished," he explained. "The same principle exists here. If our delightful neighbours, or God botherers, or ghost hunters or urban explorers turn up, then my goblins, or Hoggle, make themselves known and the trespassers leave."

"I am surprised they just leave," Sarah said. "An old house like this, would be such a strong target."

"The wards convince them they need to leave if they ever get too close," he concluded. They stood silently for a few moments, just soaking up each other's presence. Sarah couldn't stop glancing at his lips, knowing they had been kissing her so passionately in the past half an hour.

She suddenly blushed under his scrutiny, knowing that they had both declared their love for one another, thinking it was their last opportunity to do so. It was no less true now, but she was suddenly so conscious about him, standing so close in such a narrow space.

"You bogged Hoggle," Sarah accused, batting his hand away, attempting to restore some of her equilibrium.

"Appearances," was all her said as he pushed himself off the wall and pressed her against the opposite wall. "Tell me, Sarah, how do you feel about being my mistress?"

Sarah baulked and attempted to push him off her as he leaned his body right against hers and the wall. He was immovable. "Mistress?" she almost screeched.

"We both can't marry one another," he said. "But Icca and your future husband can not dictate who our lovers are."

"Cheating is a common pastime for fae?" she asked, disgusted.

"We live a long time, Sarah," he explained. "No one but my parents have chosen monogamy."

"And if you had married me?" she asked, hurt.

"Then with your permission and consent I would have—"

"Oh, you would ask my permission to have an affair?" she growled, seething. "How magnanimous."

"—asked for us to remain monogamous," he finished, placing a finger lightly over her lips. "I couldn't demand it of you, but I could ask it of you."

Sarah remained silent at his subtle reproof. She always thought the worst of him, even now, after all he had sacrificed for her.

"Sarah, I want you to be my wife," he said. "I would want you to be my only lover, but I have lost that ability so the only other avenue is for us to become…illegitimate lovers. Icca can't stop me taking lovers. I refuse to take a vow of fidelity and I refuse monogamy."

"Until he dictates that you shall take those vows unless you want to see me married off to the worst kind of suitor," Sarah pointed out. Jareth paled. He actually blanched and Sarah was surprised he had never considered that before.

"Frustratingly, you are right," he said, biting his lip. "I also did say I wouldn't visit you."

"Technically, I visited you mother," Sarah pointed out. "No vows broken."

Jareth moved steadily away from her anyway. "Then let us go and see my mother." He spun on his heel and exited the corridor up a short flight of stairs. Sarah followed and he led her to a familiar sitting room.

"Mother," he announced, entering the room. "Sarah…Lady Sarah…is here."

Ismaila stood up and rushed towards her with all the dignity she could muster in her old-fashioned clothes and manners.

"You've come to rescue my son from his marriage to Icca!" she declared, placing her hands on Sarah's shoulders.

"Not exactly," Sarah said, wistfully. "I came to talk to you."

"Ah, but my son managed to intercept you," she said, smiling broadly. "What can I help you with?"

Sarah floundered. Her main goal had been to see if visiting Ismaila would trigger Jareth into visiting the house, but she was at quite a loss as to how to explain her presence here.

"It doesn't matter if there is no reason." Ismaila guided her to an armchair. "I am happy to see you, my girl."

Sarah sat down and accepted the tea when it came. Jareth had sat in another armchair, crossing his long legs, and staring out the window. Since they left the servant's corridor, he had started acting peculiar. Sarah imagined it was the mention of Icca making demands to stop them from ever being lovers. Like any domestic abuse, the abuser wants to cut off any form of solace the victim could claim. She couldn't fathom that it had only just occurred to Jareth.

And that was what it was between them. Jareth was a strong king. Powerful, magical, and regal, but even he wasn't below being tricked and brow beaten. She imagined his sustained silence and wistfulness was about his lack of power rather than disappointment that his plan to make her his mistress wouldn't work. He'd been defeated by her when she was a teenager. It must rankle to yet again be outplayed.

Ismaila chatted and Sarah responded politely, but she couldn't shake the feeling that Jareth was distancing himself intentionally.

It was only when there was a lull in the conversation that he finally spoke.

"There is a way out," he said.

Ismaila and Sarah both stared at him.

"What is that, dear?" Ismaila asked, taking a sip of her tea.

"We're engaged—Icca and I—but he felt threatened by my declaration that Sarah is mine…enough to try and block her last memories of me."

He drew a breath and then fell into a pensive silence; his index finger traced the outline of his lips while he thought.

"I agreed to our engagement, but it is only fae custom binding us," he finally said. "I made no vow. No magic holds it."

"Are you sure, Jareth?" Ismaila asked. "You struck a deal and that usually entails magic whether you invoked it or not."

"Mother, you know as well as I do that my magical weakness is tracing the origin of the magic," he said, impatiently. "But I can't even feel the magic."

Ismaila gave him a sceptical look.

"I know I have been…wrong before," he said, as if admitting as much was akin to having his eyelashes set on fire. "Find it yourself. Look for it."

Ismaila sighed. "I can't Jareth. That is a field of magic that is not open to me in my current state."

Jareth tutted and formed a crystal which he threw at his mother. "A loan. Be quick."

Sarah's eyes bulged as Ismaila touched the crystal, it popped and she started glowing blue.

"Jareth, the council will find out," Ismaila said, shakily.

"Doesn't matter," he replied. "If I am right, then I can marry Sarah and our place and safety are ensured because she is a Hoimailuaquk and I will be the future father of the next High Fae."

Sarah narrowed her eyes at him. "That better not be the reason you want to marry me."

"Sarah, I would not risk my mother for something as trifling as that," he said. "I am not Diddershins Gly. I wouldn't risk my mother being transferred from benign imprisonment to a torture chamber—or worse—for anything but my love for you."

Hearing him declare his love once more (and in front of someone) had her heart thumping in her chest. He was up out of his armchair now, kneeling in front of his mother.

"Please, mum, look for the magic," he pleaded. "Find it. If it is there, I will take the fall for all of this but believe me that I am right. I know I have made mistakes before. I know I have contributed to your sister's demise because of such a novice mistake, but not this time. This time I know I am right. I can not find any magic to trace back to Icca and I believe it is because I am already promised to Sarah."

Ismaila sighed and nodded. The glowing stopped and she reached out both her hands and touched Jareth's cheeks. She peered into his eyes and for minutes no one spoke or moved a muscle. Then she closed her eyes and sat back in her seat. She glowed briefly blue before the crystal appeared in her hand and she passed it back to Jareth who vanished it with a flick of his wrist.

"There is no magic tracing or linking you to Icca," she replied. "Your promise to marry him is null and void by your prior vow to marry Sarah."

Sarah alternated between relief and confusion. "Prior vow?"

Fae couldn't look sheepish but she imagined that was the look he was trying to convey when he smirked at her.

"It is an old tradition," he started. "Offering a beloved a piece of fruit and then a dance—"

Sarah nearly choked on her own saliva. "Jareth, no! I was only fourteen."

"Listen, Sarah, that is only the start, but not the complete vow," he said, now kneeling in front of her and resting his hands on her knees. "I didn't think much of the old traditions. They haven't been used in centuries as most marriages in my circle have been ones of politic and power, which I guess lends weight to your belief that we can not experience love. We rarely marry for those reasons anymore. But certain traditions will bind two souls together stronger than any political agreement could ever do."

"Icca could try and marry Jareth but may find that just like your marriage to Diddershins, the rituals don't complete." Ismaila idly traced the patterns of the armrest of her chair with a fingernail. "Jareth simply got there first."

"So, you started the ritual when I was fourteen…" Sarah prompted, still scowling at Jareth.

"Unintentionally," he emphasised. "And we finished it…together."

"When and how?" Sarah asked.

"When we had sex, Sarah," he replied bluntly. Sarah shifted in her seat, aware that his mother was watching the pair of them. "I called you Sarah-mine."

"Yes, and?"

"And that sealed the pact," he explained. "Not intentionally, but through those actions, and your acceptance of them, we have pledged ourselves to each other. Words have power."

"I rejected you," she said adamantly. "I won the Labyrinth."

"Yes, you did," he said. "But that is a separate issue."

"So, if we had never…you know…"

"And I had never called you mine," Jareth finished, completely relaxed about talking about sex in front of his parent. "Then it would never have completed itself and you would be bound to whoever Icca marries you to and I would be bound to Icca. But the magic we shared overrode that."

He was grinning maniacally now. And while, it seemed a perfect solution to both their problems, it still seemed rather hasty to go from a declaration of love in the heat of the moment to actual marriage.

"Jareth, I—"

"I know, Sarah," he replied, beaming. "We won. I can renege on my promise and we can marry each other. No need to take you as my mistress and no need for me to have to watch you make a family with some other unworthy fae."

"Jareth, it is rather fast," she said. "I still have my life here. My job, my family…"

His smile never wavered. "And you can still have all of that. You do not have to move Underground right away. In fact, you could live here. I could finally pretend to have the house renovated and you could be the owner. Mother can stay here and I can visit you whenever I want until you are ready to marry."

Sarah gaped at him.

"But the fact of the matter is, that we are free to choose each other now."

"Because you fae-trickeried me into it," Sarah said, placing her hands on top of his about to throw them off her knees, but he was quicker and he had rolled his wrists and was threading his fingers through hers before she took her next breath.

"Fae-trickeried is not a word," he said, laughing. "And I did no such thing. The peach was a tool and the dance was taken from your dreams. It was part of the game. I could have done that with any of my runners, but only you did I make love to, kiss and declare that you were mine."

"I actually am not owned by you," Sarah insisted.

"Perhaps not in your way of thinking, but in my culture, that is exactly what you are," he said. "I am yours and you are mine."

"That peach was rotten and I only took one bite," she insisted. "It can't count."

"Why do you fight this, Sarah?" Ismaila cut in. "You both are free to love and marry each other and you are still looking for a way out."

Sarah coloured. She wasn't fighting it too hard. After all, she did love Jareth. But the idea of being his Queen and ruling over goblins and living by their rules…

"Your rules terrify me," Sarah replied. "And having a child that is to be the next High fae is a huge responsibility. I want children, but I hardly know Jareth or his culture well enough to know if I want a child…with him…yet." She turned to face Jareth and caressed his cheek with his hand. "I've only just admitted I love him, but everything else that goes a long with it? I never thought we would find a way out of our predicament and for it to happen so easily? I am just overwhelmed."

"Marshall took a while to adjust but he did," Ismaila said, smiling fondly at the thought of her husband. "You will adjust. Forget about the nitty gritty and celebrate that you two have found each other and a way to be together."

Jareth froze, his fingers gripping hers rather harder than it was comfortable.

"He is here," Jareth said, rising to his feet.

A blackbird flew through the open window and materialised in the centre of the room as Icca.

"Jareth," he said sternly, as Jareth stood between his fiancé and Sarah.

"Icca," Jareth said, with a note of his old arrogance in his tone. Jareth, the Goblin King, was back! Icca raised a brow.

"You think that it is that easy, do you?" he asked, stepping forward. "You think that just because you declared that she was yours while you fucked, that you are tied together?" Icca laughed. "My Lord, but you are foolish. Do you really think that a bond like that is infrangible?"

Jareth laughed so loudly that Icca grimaced.

"Sarah, tell him what you told me all those years ago," Jareth said, pulling her to her feet and holding her at his side. "This fae wants to choose your husband. This fae would steal you from me. This man thinks that unbreakable magic is weaker than my promise to him, that my promise to him is somehow stronger than my vow to you."

Sarah had listened to him confused as to what he wanted her to say. She had told him a lot of things all those years ago. She had demanded her baby brother back. She had told him she didn't mean it. She had told him her will was as strong as his. She had mentioned that her kingdom was as great.

"It's a piece of cake," Sarah muttered, watching Jareth's face as it went from irritation to mild amusement.

"Tell him how much power he has over you, Sarah."

She opened her mouth to say the words, when Icca held up his hand.

"Stop, Sarah!" Icca's eyes blazed as he held up his gloved hand, but as soon as Sarah saw the parallels between her final confrontation with the Goblin King and this fae, she knew there was no comparison. Jareth's 'stop,' had almost won her over. He had offered her her dreams. What had Icca ever offered her? He was trying to take Jareth away from her. Her chest constricted with a wild possessiveness she had never felt before. Jareth was hers.

She knew she wasn't quite ready to leave everything that made her Sarah behind and start a new life as a Queen, but she would be damned before this upstart fae ever took what was hers.

"It was all you, Sarah," Jareth murmured against her hair as he pulled her closer. "Denying Diddershins a marriage was all you. Your power. Icca might have chosen you, birthed your magic, set the trajectory of your progeny, but it is your power, not his that runs through your veins. Only you can wield your magic. You just have to believe in it."

Sarah watched Icca smiling complacently as if Jareth's words held no meaning.

"Your will is as strong as mine," Jareth whispered. "Your kingdom, as great. Save yourself, Sarah."

Sarah knew what she had to say, but as she looked into Icca's laughing eyes, she found she was still hesitant to say it.

"Sarah, you denied your dreams to save your brother," Jareth said, an urgent plea in his tone now. "Do not deny your power and risk denying me."

Why was she struggling to say it? With Jareth her dreams had been in the balance. This time all the things she wanted was on the side of her claiming her power. But yet, she hesitated.

She glanced at Ismaila and saw her stricken face as she watched the three of them. She was wringing her hands and clearly agitated at the scene. With blinding realisation, Sarah knew why she stalled.

She didn't completely trust Jareth, nor her own magic. And something inside her was strongly urging her to move away from Jareth.

"Not this time, Sarah," Jareth said, with some force behind his words. "Do not deny me this time. Say the words."

Sarah knew suddenly with startling clarity that she was not going to say the words. They would be hollow and without conviction. There would be no magic behind them.

Her knees gave way and she fell to the ground, landing heavily on all fours. She heard both Ismaila and Jareth cry out her name in unison even over her panting and the blood rushing in her ears.

"Looks like she doesn't have the strength, Jareth," Icca said, mockingly. "Do you really think that some mortal I imbued with magic will be able to use it against me? She used it against Diddershins because I willed it, not because she has any ability to wield it herself."

"Are you siphoning her magic away?" Ismaila asked, as Sarah felt her hands grip her under her arms and pull her back to her feet. Sarah was trembling with the effort and she knew she was right. Her very core felt empty. She felt depleted.

Icca laughed. "You were so worried about her marrying another fae, and yet here lies the solution to all our problems. If she has no magic, then no other fae will have her and you still won't get to screw your mortal chit. I will regain the magic and can pick someone else to give my boon to. When she is again mortal, she will see how you no longer love her and how your attention will be given to the new Hoimailuaquk."

"Sarah only you can stop this," Ismaila said on one side, as she felt Jareth join her on her other to help hold her up. "Forget about the baby and the future and Jareth. We will cross that bridge together when we can. Right now, you need to focus on you. Save your magic. Say the words. Ignore Icca's poisonous words."

Jareth was cupping her cheek and looking at her, forcing her to drag her eyes away from Icca to instead delve into his mismatched blue ones. How had she ever thought they were cold?

"My mum is right. Say the words for you." Jareth leaned down and nuzzled her jaw with his nose before slowly kissing a line up to her ear. She shivered with both weakness and desire.

"You've always said the right words in the end, Sarah," he whispered. "But know this, if you relinquish your magic to him, I will still love you. I know he is sowing seeds of doubt in that extraordinary mind of yours, but he lies. It is not the boon I love but you. Say the words. Please."

Sarah groaned as if her very soul was ripped from her as more magic left her body.

"I was wrong all those years ago," Jareth was now saying, his lips against the shell of her ear. "It wasn't me that was generous. It was you. You have given me the time of day, Sarah. You have given me everything. Love, hope, your trust…All I ask of you now is that you say the words. Be generous with me once more and say the words."

Sarah wanted to. More than she didn't want to. But still something was stopping her. She closed her eyes and leant all her weight against Jareth. Images of her Labyrinth run flashed before her eyes, and the emotions she had felt pricked at her heart. The injustices, the cheating, the Bog of Eternal Stench…the Cleaners. Every instance that he had tried to thwart her and place her in jeopardy raced through her mind. Icca was feeding her the images and feeding off her sense of injustice. She knew it.

"Don't fear me…"

She felt something moist on her cheek and opened her eyes, crooking her neck to see tears on Jareth's cheeks.

"Love me…" His words danced across her skin like a promise.

"Sarah…" he whispered. "Do as I say. Just this once. Say the words."

She knew fae couldn't cry but here he was, openly weeping.

"Fae can't cry," Icca said loudly, as if he had read her thoughts. "But they can certainly use magic to grant the appearance of it."

Sarah reached up and brushed a tear away with her thumb and feeling no magic in the teardrop she gave him a tentative, reassuring smile. She had made her decision. It had always been her dream to have magic, and she always had magic since she was born, but having the love of Jareth was a power of its own. Either way, she found solace in him.

"Jareth…" she began, finding all the strength that was in her. She turned to face Icca who was looking wrongfooted for the first time since he entered the house. "Icca, you have no power over me."