Chapter Sixteen

Now that the initial awkwardness had been overcome, Jareth had to admit that things were going very well.

For one thing, her dog liked him, which might have seemed a silly thing to be glad of, but dogs were known to pick up on things that a human could not. Thus, humans trusted their dogs to warn them of dangerous people. Sarah didn't realize it but her dog accepting him had the subliminal effect of making her feel safe with him, too.

She also didn't realize that her addressing him by name in his presence had lifted all prior restrictions on him. He could now appear before her at will and as close as he wished. He might even be able to scry her, although given her love of privacy, this was something he didn't think he should contemplate trying. If he ever did attempt to scry her, he would limit it to public spaces only.

And what a delightful conversationalist she turned out to be! Although she was still very young by Othánas standards, her love of reading had given her a rather sizable number of subjects that she was knowledgeable in and could discuss vigorously. He could hardly wait to get her into his library.

After the royal bedchamber, that is.

What pleased him immensely was the fact that he could pick up more than just a hint of her emotional scent. Warm honey, jasmine, and nutmeg. He had to struggle with himself not to bury his nose in her neck and inhale deeply. That would not go over well with her. Not yet anyway.

He could also faintly see her aura, which appeared a mellow golden color. Contentment, most likely. Time and association would teach him better how to read her moods, but it pleased him that he was starting to see it so soon. It would be of great help to him as he navigated this next stage of their relationship.

He had just finished recounting for her amusement his latest foray to the High Court for the Samhain Ball (and laughingly threatened to take her along with him to the next one) when he felt the prickle of danger. Centuries of experience had taught him to trust those instincts and he flashed his magical shielding, warning whoever was stalking them that danger lay here. Not by look or by word did he alert Sarah of what he sensed, but she had noticed something in his demeanor and looked at him quizzically. Her dog, also sensing danger, planted himself protectively on the other side of Sarah, a low rumbling coming from its throat. Before he could warn her, a voice sounded behind them.

"Don't move, or the bitch gets shot."

Whoever it was, this idiot had no idea what he was dealing with. Jareth turned slowly, as did a wide-eyed Sarah.

Ah, a changeling.

No doubt promised a boon by one of the Fae. This one had the stink of Iftanzel all over it. It was holding a gun in its trembling hands, pointed at Sarah; its eyes bulging in terror as it realized just who her escort was.

"H-Hands up, G-Goblin King," it snarled, shakily.

"Jareth," Sarah whispered, her fright evident in her voice and in her aura.

Jareth growled.

Sarah didn't understand what was happening. One moment she was laughing at Jareth's exploits at the High Court and the next, some creature was holding a gun on them. The next few moments passed by in both slow motion and a fast blur.

Jareth growled, actually growled, a deep primal sound that reminded her of an angry wolf. Like lightning, he'd shoved her behind him, shielding her with both his body and his magic. The creature with the gun must have pulled the trigger, as there was a small puff of explosion from the barrel. At the same time, Merlin sprung into a slow-motion leap at the gunman. Sarah could see the bullet, suspended a foot away from the barrel of the gun, frozen in time, then shattering. Then she saw Jareth move.

In a blur of motion that she wouldn't have believed if she had not seen it, Jareth had crossed the distance between them and the gunman, fangs bared in a snarl, his hands ungloved and black talons extended. One hand ripped through the arm holding the gun, knocking it away. The other hand tore through the creature's throat, spraying blood everywhere. As Sarah watched in horror, the creature's head fell to the ground with a sickening thud. The body collapsed only a moment later.

Sarah's knees buckled beneath her. She was sitting awkwardly on the path, breathing heavily, her head down, her stomach heaving. Merlin came to sniff at her and stand guard. Over the roaring in her ears, she thought she'd heard voices. After a few more breaths, she finally had the nerve to look up.

She saw Randel standing over what was left of the creature. Flanking him were two Othánas men she had never seen before. She didn't turn around, but she could sense the presence of another Othánas behind her, guarding her alongside Merlin. As she watched, Jareth waved his hand and all evidence of the creature, and all blood and gore vanished. He said a few words to Randel, then turned to look over at her. As he did so, Randel and the other Othánas disappeared.

Jareth walked slowly towards her. He crouched down beside her and put his hand on her arm, and she was thankful to notice that his hands were clean and gloved once again. "Sarah are you alright?" he asked, concern flooding his eyes and his voice.

She looked at him, rather dazed, "I'm not sure. I think so. What was that?"

"A changeling. Sent by Iftanzel," he said, looking her over carefully. Merlin nuzzled him, and with his other hand, he gave the dog a pat, whispering praise to him for acting to defend her.

"How… how do you know?"

"He reeked of magic. It had the signature of someone from Iftanzel," he said quietly.

Sarah looked up at him in confusion, "But how did he know you would be here? I didn't tell anyone, not even Hoggle."

"He wasn't after me, Sarah." He covered her hand with his. "He was after you."

Sarah's blood froze. "Me? Why the hell would he be after me? What did I do?" On some level, she had not really believed that she could be in danger from the Fae. This put all of Jareth's precautions on her behalf in a new light.

Jareth sighed, "Nothing. You did nothing. But you are the Champion of the Labyrinth. My guess is that the Iftanzels thought that by capturing you, it would force us to come to terms." He smiled down at her crookedly, "It would have worked."

"Wait… these assholes thought they would capture me to use against you?"

"Yes," he said simply. "He thought he was only dealing with a human, possibly an Ughlánas or two. He was woefully unprepared to deal with me."

"You can say that again," Sarah said, a giggle of hysteria in her throat. "But how was he prepared? I mean… for an Ughlánas or two?"

"He was shielded against magic and the gun enchanted. That's why I had to use… brute force to eliminate him. The bullet, however, was not enchanted. I was able to freeze it and shatter it without much effort." He laughed quietly, "He thought Fae magic would help him with an Ughlánas. Little did he know that they can take a bullet and keep coming at you while smiling. He would have gotten one hell of a surprise."

"Well, he kind of did, at that," said Sarah. For some reason, this made her laugh, although she could still hear the hysteria boiling up in her voice. Jareth helped her to her feet, his eyes continuing to roam over her in care and concern. As her laughter died, Sarah felt her breath start to hitch, and her body began to tremble in reaction.

Without a word, Jareth pulled her to him. He wrapped his arms around her, using one hand to smooth her hair. His cheek pressed against the top of her head as he murmured soothing noises for comfort. She clutched him tightly, shuddering and sobbing softly against his chest. They stood there for a long time, Merlin quietly standing guard over them. Sniffling, she pulled her head back to look at him, "I'm sorry for falling apart like that."

Jareth kissed her forehead, gently. "Don't be. It's only natural." He looked around at the park which was slowly getting darker in the twilight. "Let's get you home." He turned and started walking with her back toward her parents' house, Merlin following along happily.

On some instinctive level, she could not bear to let go of him, so she kept her arm around his waist. He apparently felt the same, as his arm remained protectively about her shoulders. "Do me a favor, Jareth?"

"Anything, love."

"Kick their asses for me. Make it hurt."

Jareth's feral grin was the only reply she needed.

Author's Notes:

Again, this chapter was directly inspired by and closely follows a similar incident in WildIsGood's story A Riddle in Flowers.