Warning: Chapter contains themes and reference to SA. Please proceed with caution.
Chapter Thirty
Jareth
What would be Day 28 of Quarantine.
Underground.
The Labyrinth.
Jareth woke before the dawn and slipped from the bed. While Sarah slept soundly, Aldric's eyes glimmered in the dark as he watched Jareth pad out of the loft and down the stairs. His brother did not rise or move, but kept his arm firmly around Sarah's middle, her back to him still.
Shaking his head in amusement, the Goblin King left Sarah's tower room—the Queen's Tower, to match his own—and made his way to his study. It was just off the library and far enough from the tower that he made a brisk walk of it.
Klothe was waiting just outside, picking its pointed teeth with a silver toothpick while studying a portrait tapestry of one of the previous Goblin Kings. "Which one is this?" it asked as he approached.
Jareth did not wish to have to hide his emotions here, in the heart of his own kingdom, but this was Aurora's envoy. He gave a mask of pleasantness. "The second, I believe. Lacelorn." Holding his hand out to the door, he bade it open, and motioned at the sprite. "Have you yet broken your fast? I can send for something."
Klothe stowed away its toothpick in golden robes and strode as fast as its little legs could carry it through the doors of his study. Jareth followed, annoyed. "Your kingdom looks different than last we saw it," the sprite said. "And it feels changed."
Jareth eyed the creature and slipped around to his desk, shifting papers aside and ringing a tiny silver bell. The chime was piercing, and a moment later one of his more intelligent goblins—Hester—arrived, her clothes only a little stained this morning.
"I would like some breakfast," Jareth said to his attendant. "Klothe?"
"Blood. Lamb or rabbit preferred, hot as you can make it." It licked its lips, black eyes shining. "Or goblin. I've never had goblin."
Hester visibly blanched, backing away from the diminutive imp, glancing at Jareth. "Sire—"
"Rabbit, dear one," he murmured. "Quick as you can."
"You have a fondness for your goblins," Klothe observed, watching the woman dart out of the room. "Yet so many of your kind look upon them with disdain."
"My goblins are mine," Jareth said, trying to keep it simple. "It takes many kinds to make a world, and I have never held to the believe that fae are the all-knowing, superior species they claim to be."
Klothe raised one slender eyebrow, then popped onto the chair in front of his desk, reclining against the red leather upholstery. "I could not find Aldric last night," it observed. "There is much that Her Majesty wishes to know about what he's done these past few days, when all thought him faded. We had even heard that he had given his amulet to the girl. It was the last thing he told his servants before dismissing them with full pension."
Jareth waited while Hester returned bearing a slender goblet of burgundy blood, and a covered platter with what he hoped was his breakfast. She set the dish before him first before setting the goblet on the arm of the chair, backing away with a bow and scurrying off as quick as she had appeared.
"My bride-to-be insisted on returning the amulet to its rightful owner, and Aldric was restored," Jareth said, pulling the silver lid off his tray to reveal sausage, eggs, and thick slices of brown bread. A pad of butter and jar of jam sat to the side, and he nodded, satisfied. His stomach was howling, but he forced himself to put his attention back on the sprite. "In the last few days Aldric has been here, as we attempt to broker a peace between us."
"Peace between Lord Aldric and the Goblin Kingdom would be a pleasant turn of events, indeed. Many believe that his attempts were short-sighted. The Labyrinth chooses its master, does it not?"
Jareth schooled his expression to maintain a pleasant façade. "The Labyrinth is a difficult thing to comprehend," he hedged. "Do you find your breakfast to your liking?"
The sprite sipped the blood and licked its thin lips. "Rabbit," it said. "Spiced well enough. It'll do."
He tried not to bristle, but he had never like Klothe. The creature was too willing to spill blood other than its own in order to achieve the ends of its mistress. He had seen the sprite go after someone before, and it was a vicious killer when it chose to be, despite the duminutive stature. Those pointed teeth were absolutely lethal.
"I will take breakfast with you, but I do have many duties to attend to, you understand," Jareth said, still not touching his plate. He truly did not wish to dine in front of the sprite. "What is it that I could do for you? I believe there are others who are tasked to attend your needs."
He was trying to Klothe the brush-off and they both knew it, but they also both continued to smile pleasantly at one another.
How he hated the games of the fae court. How he longed for the seemingly simpler times of Sarah's New York apartment. How had that become a mental oasis in his mind?
Because for a while, it was only the two of you.
Barring some interruptions, but true enough.
After all this was through, he would take her somewhere where it truly could just be the two of them. He imagined she may want something of the same with Aldric, but Jareth would insist that theirs be first. A honeymoon, as he had found it called in the Above. Sarah had mentioned something about it after he had first given her the ring.
He let his thoughts linger on those gentler prospects while the sprite smiled, sipped its blood, and said, "Your brother, you will give him to us."
Jareth blinked. "I'm sorry?"
"Aldric. The High Queen requires him to be presented to her upon arrival. A gift of goodwill. He will be joining her inner chambers." He smiled in such a sickening way that Jareth felt like a knife had just been thrust into his guts.
The inner chambers were the High Queen's harem. While it wasn't unheard of for someone of nobility to pass through those golden gates to serve as pleasure slave to the whims of royalty, they were from lesser houses. Third and fourth children. Distant relations. Aldric was the head of his own house. One of the oldest houses in Faerie.
"Has the council approved this?" The Goblin King asked, pushing his plate away, making no pretense at attempting to eat around Klothe any longer. "He should be offered consort, not—"
"He is not worthy of consort," the sprite sneered. "The High Queen has made that abundantly clear. But she will have him for her inner chambers. That he is worthy of, indeed."
Jareth wanted to scream, because it knew. The sprite knew exactly what Aurora was and what she was doing to Aldric and who knew how many others. What would she do when she had no further limits barring her way? "I cannot give what I do not possess. My brother is his own, not mine."
"Be that as it may," the sprite drained its glass before leaping down. It spoke from the floor, "You have influence, or your bride-to-be does. Make sure it's understood that, without him being presented? The High Queen will turn around the moment she arrives. There will be no discussion." It stopped at the threshold, turning with hands folded behind its willowy back. The smile it flashed was pink-tinged from blood. "We all bend to the will of the High Seat."
Aurora's ambassadar left, and Jareth stared for a long time at the door that had slid closed behind it. He willed his body to move, his mind to think, to do something—anything—other than this stillness and, somewhere in the far back of his mind, a persistent, uninterrupted scream.
Sarah, he thought, and grasped on the thought like a lifeline. I've got to tell her.
Dashing back the coffee and leaving the rest of his breakfast to cool, hunger forgotten, Jareth strode from his study back to the Queen's tower.
It seemed not to take so long, this time, and he mounted the steps and knocked softly before opening the door.
It was still early enough in the morning that the sunlight was pale and weak, but birds were singing their greetings and the inside of Sarah's rooms were alive with the rustle of the trees, as though they were waving hello. Jareth touched the bark of one as he passed to the stairs up to the loft, and was surprised to find a zip of magic roll out of it into him. They were, indeed, alive. More so than most.
He was surprised to find Aldric asleep and snoring loudly, while Sarah sat at the vanity brushing her hair. She smiled at him when he appeared and rose, crossing to his side. Her smile faded as she got closer. "What's wrong?" she whispered.
Jareth glanced at Aldric, who had jerked awake at her words, his hair sticking up on one side and his clothing rumpled. His mismatched gaze was sharp, however, as he sat up, his voice thick with sleep. "What is it?"
Taking a deep breath, unsure how to broach the subject, Jareth raised new wards, ears popping as the pressure changed. Now he had their full attention. Sarah grasped his forearm. "Jareth, please…"
"Aurora is arriving tomorrow, and when she does, she expects Aldric to be presented to her. She has claimed him for her inner chambers."
Sarah looked confused, eyebrows drawn down, but his brother went still, then growled, "Did the council approve this?"
"Klothe would not say. Only that Aurora will turn around the moment she gets here if you are not given over." He stared at Sarah, whose eyes were widening. He hastened to explain. "The inner chambers are her…" he struggled with the word.
"Slaves," Aldric interrupted as he slid from the bed and came to stand closer. "She uses them like things, then discards them."
Jareth nodded. He would not argue. "It's a long tradition. A harem for the royals, something that most High Kings and Queens have maintained over the millennia."
"A harem?" Sarah echoed, paling. "She—she wants to put Aldric in there to… no." She glanced between them, then raised her voice. "No! She doesn't get to touch you ever again. Not ever."
Aldric reached for her, and Jareth recognized how helpless the gesture was.
His brother was pulled to her the same as he. The resonance was complete, and they all echoed with shared magic now. It played along his skin and at the edge of his senses, teasing.
"Sarah, pet," Aldric murmured, his voice soft but his eyes looking hollow. Lost. "There may not be another way. If we do not do as she asks, there may not be any opportunity to do as we planned. This changes very little, actually, when you think of it." He gave a chuckle, and it fell flat.
She clutched at him, pulling away from Jareth in the moment to go to him. "No," she said again, voice muffled from where she pressed her face into his chest. "I won't let you do that. We can't give you over like some kind of fatted calf for slaughter."
Aldric looked over the top of her head to Jareth, who stared back. He sensed the resignation in his brother, and shared echoes of it himself.
Sarah pulled back, "What if I claim you? Now? Today. There's precident, I know—"
"For royals," Jareth explained gently. "You are not one yet, my love."
She paled, gaze flicking between them. "You both are acting like this is a sure thing, as though we've already lost."
"We have, at least this battle. It is good to know when you are defeated."
Sarah drew up, hands clenching into fists by her side. She wore a one-piece sleep dress in pale green that matched her eyes, the hem ending just above her knees. With her hair unbound, her face clear? The mind conjured thoughts of spirits and goddesses. She looked as though she were about to lay down a decree.
And that is exactly what she did.
"There is another way, and we will find it," she said. "Aldric will never be alone with Aurora again. I will die first."
His brother made a sound of distress. "You should not say such things. Words have power, especially here—"
"I mean it," she said, turning on him. "She's never going to do that to you again, Aldric! Never." She whispered the last, though the words previous had been shouted. "Jareth took care of things for me. Let us take care of things for you."
Jareth watched his brother carefully, then ventured, "We could crown you a prince of the Goblin Kingdom. You have a right to it, as my brother. That would further strengthen your petigree."
"What about this council you've both talked about?" Sarah asked. "Surely they could interveen. She's not all-powerful."
"She may as well be," Aldric muttered, still looking lost. He ran his hands over his hair and paced away from them, to the edges of the ward and then back again. "This is ridiculous. We don't have the time. It's not that bad, it's—"
"No," Sarah repeated, and this time Jareth echoed her.
"There is not a reason on this world or any other for that act to occur," The Goblin King said softly. "It is beyond reprehensible. It is evil and vile. I am sorry—" he hastened as his brother's expression darkened. "But you are not fully free of her yet, and are blind to certain facts."
"Such as?" Aldric asked, his tone dangerous.
Sarah placed restraining hands on both their arms. "Easy."
Jareth turned over the words he wished to say for a long moment before speaking. "You are not without power here, Aldric. The gods only know you've wielded it well before. You have a slew of connections at court. Use those now."
"And say what?" he challenged. "Help me, I'm about to be serially raped by our High Queen?"
Sarah flinched, but spoke anyway. "There has to be a way. We're…" she trailed off, looking between the two of them. "You said claiming is for royalty."
"Yes, precious," Jareth murmured, a headache beginning to form. He rubbed his forehead. "So you cannot claim—"
"What if he claims me? If you crown him a prince of the Goblin Kingdom, wouldn't he be royalty? Couldn't he claim me, and wouldn't that complicate the shit out of things for her, because I'm bound to Jareth and the Labyrinth?"
"I'm already complicated," Aldric said, throwing his hands up and stalking off once more, pulling at his hair. "She shouldn't even think of doing this because of my station, my house, my rank at court. I may have begun to fade, I may have thought all lost—but it was supposed to be implied that I would take back my seat, my position at court." He trailed off at the end, glancing back at Sarah, looking harried. "If you were to be my claiment, and Aurora knew this, she may become even more determined to do this thing. She might use this against us. If she knew for a certainty that you were important to me."
Jareth's instincts rose. "We cannot put you in danger like that, precious. Not with your bond to the Labyrinth and the Underground so new and untested. Aurora is many things, but chief amongst them she knows how to manipulate—"
"No!" Sarah yelled again, her color high, her eyes sparking. The Labyrinth gave a low rumble that trembled the ground beneath their feet. Everyone went still. "I've already given my vow. She will not touch Aldric again. She will never be alone with him again. I can't—" tears fell one then the other down her cheeks, but she spoke through them. "I can't be given this power, this resonance with you both, if I'm unable to use it to protect. Otherwise what's the point?"
"Faerie isn't a fair place, pet," Aldric said softly. "Even those with incredible power can become victims."
"This time you have me," Sarah said, stubborness in every inch of her. "We can figure this out."
###
Hours passed as they dove into the library, his brother writing reams of corrospondence, cross-referencing law texts as he did so, with Sarah to aide him. Jareth, on the other hand, transported between their work and his own. There were many preparations to be made for not only Aurora's visit, but the coronation and the wedding.
"You're sure you want no say in it?" he asked Sarah for the upteenth time when checking back on their progress. "I could dress you in lime green and puce for all you know."
She waved a hand, and her distraction was evident, for her response was off-handed. She did not even look at him. "I'm fine. You know what to do more than me."
Jareth tried not to let the sting of rejection hit him, but it did, and Aldric met his gaze when he looked over. There was a beat of silence, then his brother said, "Sarah, you've been at it for hours. Maybe you should take a break."
She finally raised her head from the text she had been absorbed in, glancing between the two of them. Her expression turned calculated for a moment, and then she rose, brushing off her hands. "Alright. Jareth?"
He was at her side in an instant. "Where to?"
"The gardens, please," she sighed. "I need to see daylight."
Acquiescing, Jareth transported them both to the gardens and the waters where Ingrid played. Looking to his lover, he saw that she had her eyes closed, bathing in the slanted light of the late evening sun.
She was so beautiful, soaking in that golden hue. He said so.
Cracking one eye open a slit, Sarah smiled and wrapped her hand in his, fingers twining. "I love you."
Jareth let out a breath he did not realize he had been holding.
She turned to him, stepping closer and leaning into him. "I miss when it was just the two of us. It is odd that those are what I now consider the simple times. I thought you were anything but simple, then, and now?" She let out a chuffing laugh, then reached up so that she touched his face, eyes searching his. "Are you still okay? Have I been ignoring you too much?"
His hand covered hers, and his voice was hoarse. "I do miss you, and I fear for what is to come. I want, very much, to be alone with you. Soon."
She pressed closer. "We're alone now." Her voice was low and husky.
"Not completely, precious. The gardens are semi-public." Jareth shook his head, but smiled, leaning down as she reached for him fully.
She kissed him, and it knocked the breath from his lungs. The mark on his hand flared, power racing through their touch. Sarah let out a soft sound, a whimper, and he chased it into her mouth, tongue caressing hers.
When she pulled back, it was only enough for a plea. "Privacy, please." Then she was kissing him again, and he could do nothing but kiss her back, and do as she requested, transporting them now to his tower room.
Making an appreciative noise, Sarah did not hesitate to strip him, hands making quick work of his court clothes. "Love," Jareth said between kisses. "We don't have to." She nipped his bottom lip and he pulled in a breath.
"I need you," she whispered, her voice rough with a longing that he echoed in every cell of his being. "Tell me you feel this." She brought his hand to her chest, to the pounding heartbeat he could feel just under her breastbone. Her eyes were wide. "Tell me you understand."
"I understand," he murmured, gathering her to him, his bare fingers tracing the curve of her jaw, tilting her face up to his. When he kissed her it was with a devouring mouth, feasting upon every delicious sound she made and plucking her clothes off, piece at a time.
Jareth thought he understood what Sarah meant, though he did not want to waste any time in confirmation.
They were about to embark on something impossible. Improbable that they would survive. Sarah's powers were so untested, and her links to this world tenuous at best. Her entire life had been upended, she had found more people to love and care for, and power beyond the grasp of most mortals. Her use of magic was already so wonderful, but Aurora was centuries' old, with the might of Faerie behind her.
He understood that Sarah thought they might not win, because Jareth thought the same.
And just like her, he aimed to take what moments he could, for they had already lost so much opportunity to the cruelties of time.
Her grip on him was desperate, her skin perfect, so soft it was like silk. Every breath stolen between kisses he could catch glimpse of a near-feverish look upon her face. She wanted him every inch as much as he wanted her, he saw it and felt it in each frantic gasp against his lips.
"Jareth," she moaned, and he was enflamed. All he could think about was how much he wanted to hear her scream that name as she came apart, as magic wove between them and crested them ever higher. He needed to be inside her so much that his body ached. "Gods," she whispered. "You're really mine."
"And you're mine." Here and now, that was all that mattered.
Jareth lifted her into his arms, cradling her trembling body flush against his own, her legs around his waist shaking with anticipation.
Lowering her to the bed, he tested her, found her slick and heated, her hips bucking up against the touch of his fingers as she whimpered.
Sarah reached for him, motions impatient, her legs spreading to invite him in.
Braced over her, Jareth rubbed himself against her entrance, watching her as her gaze remained locked on the juncture of their bodies. Grinning, he rolled his hips forward, seating himself in her in one smooth motion.
She made a short, hard sound, head falling back and eyes fluttering closed as her inner muscles gripped him tight around his cock, the sensation of her—unbelievable. It could not be described fully. The language of magic spilled out of him as he buried his face in her neck, inhaling deeply.
Smelling of sweet almonds and new magic, Sarah's skin was heated, her breath hot in his ear. "Please," she begged. "Gods, please…"
He did not know if he was speaking to her or to the gods themselves, but he did not care. He ground into her over and over, hips slamming against her spread thighs. Crying his name, Jareth sensed when she came apart, the magic pouring out of her like a deluge. Never so much as the first time, but the feel of it was beyond compare.
Power prickled under his skin, magic weaving through every cell of his body, and Jareth found his own end speeding toward him. He gathered her to him, clutching her close as his focus snapped and all he could think—feel—was her.
She was everything.
Sarah swore and the muscles around his shaft squeezed down, and when he spilled within her she trembled beneath him. Some of his magic was weaving through with hers, feeding her right back, and Jareth kissed the mark she still bore on her neck. The faded imprint of his teeth.
###
They had been gone a little over an hour by the time they returned to Aldric in the library. Jareth transported them directly, and his brother's smile was knowing, even as he continued to write the letter before him, eyes down. "A good reprieve?"
Sarah flushed a perfect pink, but disarmed the older fae with a quick kiss to the cheek. "Don't be jealous."
Aldric caught her wrist and looked up at her before bringing her palm to his mouth and kissing it. He did not answer her with words but presented a smile that made Jareth look away, feeling as though he had intruded on something deeply private.
So far as he recalled, he had never seen his brother smile like that. Smile happily.
Sarah cleared her throat. "Okay, I'm going to address the subject looming over us before we go to dinner with the others and figure out where we're at with the battle plan."
Jareth couldn't help a grin. "As you say, General Williams."
She rolled her eyes at him, but kept on. "I've never loved two men at once, and I don't know if I'm doing this right." Glancing between the two of them, perched on the edge of a writing desk, Sarah gestured at them. "I'm going with my gut, but I know that emotions happen. If there's any hard feelings? Jealousy? We need to air it out. At least I think we do. Or, how would you two handle it?"
Aldric drummed his fingers on the desk, gazing up at her.
Jareth folded his arms over his chest, glancing up at the ceiling and wishing it were plaster instead of soaring columns and an enormous skylight of twining iron and glass. Wishing that he could just grab Sarah around the waste and disappear with her into her bedroom, lock the door and let only the distant city noises interrupt their lovemaking.
But he knew those days were gone.
He had given his blessing for them to be together. A burrowing goblin, even one deep in hibernation, could see that there was something between those two, undeniable as Jareth's own connection with her.
"I am jealous," he said now, still looking at the ceiling. "Of anything that takes us apart," he leveled his gaze on Sarah. Her lips were parted prettily. "So am I to resent the sun, for your need to walk beneath its rays, or the forest, for sheltering you during those hours of solitude? Am I to make war upon Morpheus himself, for insisting you have your sleep?"
Jareth gestured at them. "There is something here I will not deny, an innexorable pull you have to each other. The same gravity which holds me to you." He tapped Sarah's hand, where the Labyrinth mark was branded. "Yes, of course, there are twinges and moments of unhappiness, seeing you smile upon another, but Sarah—you are greater than any one person could command, and I would not keep you for myself as a trophy or possession. Never that."
Sarah captured his hand and pulled him close, laying a soft kiss upon his lips before saying breathlessly, "That's one of the most romantic things anyone has ever said to me."
He raised a brow. "I need do better, then."
"As do I," Aldric said with a chuckle. "I was going to say that while I may call you pet, it is merely a term of endearment. I would never consider you only that, and I would never take away any portion of your agency for you to decide who will be in your bed. That is wholly your decision. Though," he said after a moment's pause. "I would prefer it remain only us."
"As would I, precious," Jareth ran fingers along the line of her jaw, up into her hairline, stroking her hair back from her face. "Now, what of you? Any feelings to air?"
She considered it for a moment and then nodded. "I'm afraid. And, at the same time, I'm incredibly happy. And I harbor a deep shame for being happy." She smiled a little at Jareth, and he was sure the look on his face expressed the confusion he felt. "I did grow up in a puritanical-based society. We were taught to feel shameful and guilty for pleasurable things."
"Oh, are we merely pleasurable things?" Aldric teased.
Sarah's attention swung back to him, and her grin was brilliant. "More than that, for certain. I love you. I love both of you." She took a breath and it hitched near the end. They each took one of her hands, and she squeezed the one Jareth gave her. "I don't want this to end. I can't lose either of you."
They stood for a while in silence, linked like a chain with Sarah in the middle.
And then Jareth did something he had never expected he would do. He reached out, and offered Aldric a hand to hold as well.
His brother stared at the appendage for a solid minute before slowly raising his own.
The moment that his hand gripped Jareth's, something shifted.
There was a sensation not unlike the one when they moved between the worlds, a rippling of the very core magic of Faerie. Sarah's fingers convulsed around his, and he saw that her head was tilted back, her neck arched.
Electric, white-hot energy sizzled through the three of them, circling through their linked hands and growing in intensity with each rotation. Around and around it went, building, making Jareth's fine hairs stand on end all over his body. The air smelled of ozone.
Pressure increased, from within and without, and they were gripping each other tight, hands welded to one another by the force of the energy coursing through them. They could not have let go for anything.
Sarah's lips parted, and when her eyes opened they contained an inner luminance he had never beheld in her before. Then he noticed that Aldric appeared the same, his two-toned eyes glowing, and Jareth did not have to ask to know that his did the same.
Ever onward, until it seemed like his skin would split, like muscle and blood would come rushing out, that he would be unraveled alongside them as raw power poured through them.
Poured out of her, Sarah.
She was the font, the catalyst through which the power of Faerie and the Labyrinth was now showering. Filling the space, wrapping around each of them in turn, and changing.
There was no letting go, not as the floor seemed to cave in beneath them, and the three were falling.
###
There were more caverns beneath the castle that Jareth had never seen before. These were far finer than the ones they had explored to find the chamber where the last king died. The narrow passageways had ceilings of at least ten feet in height, rounded, with columns interspersed to adorn and hold the torches and lanterns that swung overhead. The stone was pure white, flecked with glittering mica and veined silver.
They were still holding each other's hands, and Sarah had her eyes closed, her head tilted as though she were hearing something. "This way."
The grip with Aldric was broken, but Sarah still held them both, dragging them down the hallway, walking with confidence to a chamber. It was circular, and ringed with antique mirrors affixed to the white stone and edged with filigreed silver. She pulled them to the center of the room, so they might see each other in every reflection.
But both of them only had eyes for her.
"What are you doing, pet?" Aldric asked, his voice rough.
Sarah's gaze flicked between them, still aglow from within, her eyes like lantern light or will o' wisps. She licked her lips. "The Labyrinth is speaking. Can you hear it?"
Jareth startled. He had lived with the Labyrinth within his mind in some respect for centuries, but he had never heard it give voice before. He certainly could hear nothing now. Only… there was a sense of a gentle, melodic hum. A whisper.
Enough to give her fear.
He hesitated a moment more, and reached out for Aldric again. His brother did not consider nearly so long as before, but there was still a pause before his had grasped Jareth's.
Sarah smiled, and the glow increased as the torches seemed to dim, and all he could see was them, reflected hundreds of times over in mirrors ringing the walls and ceiling, showing them in endless circles, intertwined.
"What—" he began, and then the power hit him.
The only thing remotely like this had been the moment he took the pendant from the old king. Jareth crashed to his knees as did the others, his head bowed forward as he gasped for air. Every inch of it was thick with magic. Ozone and petrichor, it flooded the senses, and there was a ringing in his ears.
No visions accompanied the wash of power, for which he was grateful, but Jareth could not help but feel a trickle of fear over what had just happened. Their hands were all linked, still, but shaking.
Sarah spoke first, her words in a rush of a breath. "If we're too powerful, she can neither challenge us nor run away, not and retain her position at the Seelie court. That's what the Labyrinth told me. We have to be enough to make her fear us."
"Gods!" Aldric cried, and then began to laugh, his hand pulling from Jareth's at last. He ripped off the left glove, and they all stared to see the Labyrinth brand snaking in real time across the back of his hand, the final exit twining around his ring finger. A precise replica of what Sarah and Jareth both possessed. "I can hear it," he marveled, his expression sobering. "I… am so sorry, brother."
Jareth tilted his head.
"It showed me everything, in an instant," his brother said, near-babbling. "I saw it. All those years, all those rulers, and all that solitude. I'm so sorry."
Sarah rose to shaking feet, steadying herself on Jareth's shoulder. "I think I'm ready for food now. That was a lot."
He turned his attention to her, smiling—
In enough time to see her eyes roll back in her head, and her body start to seize.
Author's Note:
Hello, friends.
*sheepish wave*
The good news? We only have 3 chapters and an epilogue to go. Four more uploads, and 31 Days, 32 Nights will be completed.
Bad news? It took me this damn long to write and upload the most recent chapter, and aside from a general (we're talking post-it note quality) outline, I don't have anything written for the next few. I am so sorry.
I'm really, really hopeful I'll be done with this tale by end of summer, but we'll see. There are a lot of projects in between us and that goal.
The move went well, and then work did not, and things have been chaotic yet again. Projects have only just started getting worked on here recently. I hope you understand.
Thank you very much to those sticking with this story. I really appreciate each and every one of you.
Please leave a contribution in the little box.
Cheers,
~CrimsonSympathy