Chapter 4-Day 2
Jareth was lounging on the grass in the castle gardens, his arms behind his head, one leg, propped up on the other, bouncing languidly. He had come out here among the peach trees to rest and gather his thoughts before the ball tonight, after he had raided the kitchens, the cook, a portly woman whom Jareth had known since he was small shooed him out the door with a basket of goodies so he would stay out of her way today. He couldn't stand all the foppery going on indoors for the reception tonight, all the grandeur and fussing. He would give anything to be back in his castle right now with the goblins falling over one another, half-drunk on wine, chickens running about. It was chaos of a different kind that he enjoyed with tricks, puzzles and revelry, no kingly duties to worry about except which goblin he would throw when he was mildly perturbed by their antics. He smiled lazily, he missed their antics. He had grown fond of the little creatures over the years, they were always underfoot it was true, but they were loyal and never dreamed of defying him, except Hoggle and Sir Didymus and Ludo, of course. Who could blame them? Sarah was always a defiant one, it was only natural that his subjects would follow in her footsteps.
He took out a bottle of red wine from the basket and poured himself a glass. It was a nice little picnic, with savory rosemary ham tarts, crisp red apples, aged gouda cheese and peach scones. It was enough to keep him out of the castle all day if he wanted, which he had every intention of doing. He sipped on the wine, it was dry but it went down smooth enough, a good bottle. The peach trees swayed gently in the breeze, their fruit hung low, ripe with sweetness, the scent filling the air with a bittersweet fragrance that reminded Jareth of a time long past. He lay beneath one of the oldest trees, its gnarled branches spreading above him like a canopy of memories, casting dappled shadows over his still form. He closed his eyes, though his mind was far from peaceful.
Sarah would slowly be slipping away from him now. Every day, her memories of the Labyrinth, of him, grew fainter, as if each one was being plucked from her like the fruit of these trees. He had thought her spirit indomitable, but now even she was succumbing to the magic that eroded her memories. He wondered how many she had lost so far, how quickly would it happen? The thought twisted inside him, a hollow ache, sharper than any blade. He should have stayed and heard the test to its completion yesterday so he would know its limitations but in his anger he could not stay and watch them do this to her. He had wanted her to argue her way out of it, to use that same fiery spirit and determination she had had when she had run the Labyrinth against him. He put an arm over his eyes, blocking out the sun's light. Instead, she had accepted the consequences of her actions, so unlike the Sarah before, he didn't like this new Sarah. Where was the one who said everything wasn't fair? Who railed against this life? Who fought him tooth and nail to get what she wanted in the end, leaving him utterly spent in trying to live up to her expectations? They paraded her around in the courtroom like a mouse they had caught stealing their cheese, holding her up by the tail over a pot of boiling water and telling her to choose. And he with no way to get her out of it. No. If he had stayed, he would have killed everyone in that room. He would have to play the part why he searched for a way to get her out of this.
His fingers toyed absentmindedly with a fallen peach, rolling it between his fingers as he let his thoughts spiral. The scent of the peaches always reminded him of the dreamworld he'd once tried to trap her in—a moment of temptation, of forgetting. How cruel that now she was the one losing herself, and he, the Goblin King, was powerless to stop it.
The sound of approaching footsteps jarred him from his thoughts, though he didn't open his eyes right away. He already knew who it was by the sharp click of her heels against the stone path—Fleur.
"Still brooding under the trees, I see," Fleur's voice drifted toward him, light and melodic, yet tinged with the sharpness of amusement. "You do realize there's a ball tonight? We're expected to attend."
Jareth slowly opened his eyes but did not rise from the grass. He glanced at Fleur, who stood poised a few feet away, her silver gown catching the early rays of the morning sun. She looked every bit the Fae princess she was, elegant and untouched by the turmoil roiling inside him.
"I hadn't forgotten," he said coolly, though his mind was still miles away.
"Then why do you linger here like a lost spirit?" Fleur asked, her smile tinged with something almost predatory. "Surely the great Goblin King has more important matters to attend to than reminiscing about things that no longer matter."
Jareth's eyes flickered with annoyance, though he masked it quickly. Fleur's sharp words barely registered anymore; she was always pushing, always needling. Still, her presence grated on him now more than usual.
He was about to rise when another set of footsteps approached. His gaze shifted, and his heart gave a strange, involuntary lurch. Sarah appeared from behind the stone archway, and beside her, with his arm lightly brushing hers, was Bronin, the Unseelie King. The sight of them together sent a ripple through Jareth's chest, though he quickly forced his expression into one of calm detachment.
Sarah looked radiant, yet something about her felt off to him. She was dressed in a gown of emerald, green velvet, ethereal and shimmering in the light, but her eyes—the eyes that once looked at him with fire and defiance—seemed distracted. She smiled faintly at Fleur and Bronin, but it was clear her mind was elsewhere.
Jareth's eyes lingered on her, searching for some trace of recognition, some sign that she hadn't forgotten everything. She looked at him for a moment and there was still recognition in her face but there was a deep sadness in her eyes that he had never seen before and he hated that. Sarah looked away just as quickly, her finicky fingers playing with the hem of her bodice belied her nerves. Why was she with Bronin? Did she know who he was? What he was capable of? If not, she must be warned. Apparently, she got in with the wrong crowd when he wasn't around, he would need to rectify that.
"Your Majesty," Bronin's voice broke the silence, smooth and laced with that ever-present hint of mockery. "Enjoying the peace before the festivities? Or perhaps savoring some bittersweet memories?"
Jareth's jaw tightened, though he didn't rise to the bait. He nodded coolly at Bronin, his gaze flickering between the Unseelie King and Sarah. "A moment of quiet is all," he replied, his voice level, though beneath it was the unmistakable undercurrent of tension.
Fleur stepped closer to Bronin, her arm threading through his as though they were longtime allies. "We were just discussing how lovely the ball will be tonight," she said lightly. "Maven is sure to make quite the impression, with all the fuss that happened yesterday, I am sure everyone is dying to know how the trier is going." Fluer's smile was mocking and cruel.
Jareth's eyes shifted back to Sarah, he saw her flinch and he seethed inwardly. He wanted to ring Fluer's neck but he had a better idea. "I am sure she will outshine everyone tonight. She has a way of doing that."
Fleur scowled, her face scarlet with anger.
Sarah looked up, meeting Jareth's gaze. There was a flicker of something in her eyes—sadness? Regret?—but it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by the same quiet politeness she had shown this morning. She opened her mouth to speak, but Julis and Julel's voices rang out in the castle courtyard, interrupting her thoughts.
"Maven! Maven, where are you?" Julis ran into the garden, his eyes alert and worried, when he spotted Sarah his relief was almost instant, but when he saw the party she was with the uneasiness in his features returned. "Maven, there you are!" He walked over to her swiftly and let his hand lightly touch her arm, guiding her attention back to him. "We should go now, Maven, I have secured some guest rooms in the west wing for us. Let us retire there."
"Yes. We should prepare for tonight," Bronin said softly, his voice as smooth as silk, though his eyes held an edge that Jareth didn't miss. "It's almost time."
Jareth felt something cold twist inside him. Bronin was playing his game well, but he wouldn't fall into the trap of showing his hand too soon. Instead, he simply inclined his head, his gaze lingering on Sarah for a moment longer than necessary.
Sarah offered a small smile, though it didn't reach her eyes. "I'll… see you later," she said quietly, her voice soft, almost apologetic.
Jareth nodded, his expression unreadable. "Yes. Later."
With that, Julis led Sarah away, his arm still lightly resting on hers. Bronin and Fleur followed close behind, she cast one last knowing glance over her shoulder at Jareth. There was a faint smirk on her lips, as if she could already see the cracks forming in the façade he so carefully maintained.
When they were gone, Jareth let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. His hand clenched around the peach in his palm, the soft flesh bruising beneath his grip.
He watched the fading figures of Sarah and Bronin until they disappeared from view, the garden once again cloaked in silence. The scent of peaches hung thick in the air, sweet and cloying, a reminder of everything he was powerless to stop.
Jareth's gaze drifted back to the peach in his hand. He had tried once to make her forget the pain of reality, to lure her into a dream where the past couldn't hurt her. And now, it seemed, she was slipping into a dream far more dangerous—one where she wouldn't even remember him.
For the first time in centuries, Jareth felt the sting of helplessness, sharp and bitter, even as the morning sunshine surrounded him.
"Maven, please don't leave us again without letting us know your location." Julis pleaded. "We only want to keep you safe."
"Well, and King Dameal will hold us accountable if anything should happen to befall you on our watch." Julel chimed in lifting a finger up for emphasis.
The twins were thoroughly chastising her for walking away from the Hansom when they had arrived at the castle grounds. Sarah didn't regeret it, she felt bad that she had made them worry, but having seen his face, even if it was only for a moment had been worth it. She had tried her best to keep a distance from the Unseelie, she had been hoping for some kind of clarity when the two men had interacted earlier but Jareth did not address his name nor his station within the realm.
Sarah sat in the corner chair, exhausted from the walk this morning. It was the second day she hadn't eaten or drank anything, it was difficult to keep it from the twins, she had had to lie to them this morning and said she ate something from the kitchen before they had woke for the day. Both of them looked at her closely, she knew they didn't believe her. Her lips were parched and her mouth felt like sandpaper. She knew she would not be able to keep up this ruse much longer. Her strength was beginning to fade, she had a raging headache and her stomach gurgled constantly. She was so hungry she would salivate anytime she even smelled the hint of food. It was hard to concentrate on anything else. When she was in the garden she hadn't been able to look at anything but the picnic basket Jareth had with him. She had nearly pounced on it until he spoke to her, breaking her out of the spell. She had wanted to find him alone today to speak with him on so many things she had been thinking of. She wondered if that was even possible. He would probably be too busy with the preparations for the celebration tonight to have time enough to himself.
Still, she didn't want to spend the rest of the day in this room just waiting around for something to happen. She needed a distraction, what could she get away with where the twins wouldn't be following her around like a little lost puppy? An idea struck her. "Would you two mind going down to the kitchen and getting me something to eat? I'm famished." That was the truth, she added quickly before either of them could argue with her. "I'd like some quiet time alone to write in the journal we discussed yesterday to collect my thoughts."
Julis and Julel both looked at her. Julel seemed unaffected by the idea and happily acquiesced the decision. Julis on the other hand wasn't as keen on the idea.
"I think someone ought to stay with you. Especially with certain Fae that are about today because of the ceremony. There may be an uneasy peace with the Unseelie nation right now but that doesn't mean they won't try any of their old antics to hurt us. You should be careful, Maven, who you speak with tonight. Stay close to us and don't go wandering off."
"I won't, but right now, I really would like to be alone to gather my thoughts. I won't go anywhere and if I do, it will only be to the library down the hall. I saw it on our way in and I would love to peruse the Fae collections before we must leave."
Julel pulled at Julis's arm, "Brother, I want to see what we are having for dinner tonight. She will be fine in our room. Let's go, we'll come back quickly enough."
Julis sighed, looking a bit defeated. "Very well. But stay here. We will be right back."
Sarah crossed her heart and smiled softly, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. The twins left with the promise to return soon and Sarah nodded, sighing with relief as soon as they walked out the door. She wasn't used to all this mothering, as much as her stepmother, Karen had been better and their relationship had much improved when she had returned from the Underground, she still had never hovered over her as much as these two had in the past 48 hours. It was beginning to be unbearable. She couldn't even go the bathroom alone without them asking where she was going or what she was doing.
The pain in her temples was excruciating and she almost wanted to give in to the idea of lying down on the bed and falling into a deep sleep. She was exhausted in every sense of the word, but her curiosity to explore the castle was too strong a pull to make her stay and she didn't want to be here when the twins returned with food. It would be too much of a temptation not to eat. She grabbed the small journal out of the trunk of items they had brought with them to the castle and set off down the hall in search of the library. She had forgotten a pen and perhaps she would find one there, it seemed like a good enough plan for now.
Sarah walked along the hall, the soft plush carpeting muffling her footsteps, she passed many marble busts along the way of different Fae heads of state she gathered. She wondered if they were the nobility or just famous Fae throughout the ages that had been known for doing epic things within their lifetimes. It was fascinating being here on this side of the fence and seeing everything they did, much of it was similar to the medieval period within her own world. She wondered how many similarities they might have over the historical timelines. If she had the time, it would be fascinating to read about it. She let her one hand drift along the wall, partially in thought but also for balance. She was feeling weak and her hands were shaky.
She rounded a corner and found herself in a portrait room with numerous paintings of what could only be Fae nobility she surmised. They were in gold gilt frames in high backed chairs of velvet cushions and dressed in royal finery. King Dameal and Queen Morrigan were in one, the Queen sitting with a dour expression on her face, the King standing next to her with his hand on her shoulder. His eyes seemed sort of sad, like they held the weight of many lifetimes in a single glance. Sarah wondered what he must have seen or dealt with over the years to make his eyes look so ancient. Fleur and her sister were also there in separate paintings each in their own pose and the other male, she supposed the Prince, in royal blue sitting atop his horse in a striking pose.
Then she stared at the large painting next to the Prince and Sarah's eyes went wide.
"Shocking, I know." A voice said behind her.
Sarah nearly jumped out of her skin, giving a little yelp. It was the Prince from the painting, standing this close to him, he really did look a lot like his father. His hair was the same red brown as his father's and it was neatly swept off of his face. He wore some kind of midnight blue military uniform with many medals pinned on the chest, it was the same color as his eyes. Sarah curtsied. "Your majesty."
He waved a hand at her. "Please, call me Cian. I never liked titles and all the pomp." He smiled and held his arms behind his back in a military stance. "I apologize if I frightened you. I come here often to be alone with my thoughts. I never imagined finding you here, champion. Interesting, is it not?" He pointed to the painting Sarah had been surprised at.
"I didn't know he was nobility. I mean, I suspected since he was marrying the Princess but isn't he already a King?"
"Of sorts. King of the Goblins was more of a deprecation of his situation and title."
"He takes the title seriously though."
The Prince smiled, "Does he? Jareth was always one to take a sentence and turn it into an advantageous opportunity. It wouldn't surprise me if he liked those foul little creatures he was deemed to govern."
Sarah didn't like the way he spoke of the goblins, as if he was better than them. She could admit they could be annoying at times, but some of those goblins were her friends and when you looked at them from a different view, they were really just chaotic, dirty toddlers who wanted to do nothing but eat, drink and chase chickens all day. Sarah smiled at thought, secretly glad that it was Jareth who had been demoted to their realm as King.
Her hands were shaking as she turned and looked back at his painting, Jareth was shown in half-length his torso slightly off center, one arm by his side, the other behind his back. He wore a dark brown jacket with a high collar and cream-white buttons in two rows down the front. His chin was tilted up slightly in that ever-present arrogance that he carried, a slight smile hidden in the corner of his mouth, his mismatched eyes large, and no matter where she moved, they seemed to follow her around the room.
"So, you are basically saying that being King of the Goblins—of the Labyrinth, is supposed to be a prison of sorts for him?"
Cian only smiled and rocked on his heels, refusing to answer. Was this one of those things people weren't supposed to speak about?
"Aren't you not supposed to talk about him? I was told the subject was off limits by the order of the king, not that I'm complaining of course. I do have my own questions about him that I've always wondered about."
"Do you? Interesting." He chuckled, looking back at the painting. "Well, I for one have never been the type to listen to my Grandfather. Rules are made to be broken."
"Your Grandfather? You look so much alike. I thought—"
"That I was his son?" He interrupted smiling down at her. Sarah nodded. "Many have thought so."
"Would you be next in line as the next male heir?"
"Ah. No. In the Underground it is who is closest in familial relationship to the current monarch. In this case, the eldest daughter, my Aunt Fleur."
"I see." Sarah said, not being able to mask the exhaustion from her voice.
Cian bent over and looked her over carefully, eyeing her shaky hands and pallid face. "Feeling all right, Maven? Pardon me for saying so, but you don't look well."
Sarah nodded waving him away with a hand. She began to say she was fine but she couldn't form the words in her mouth, the room was beginning to sway and she nearly fell over when Cian caught her by the shoulders. "Maven, what's wrong?" The edges around her vision were beginning to darken and her limbs felt like dead weights, her knees buckled and Cian scooped her up in his arms as if she weighed nothing at all. She barely registered what he was saying now, something about bringing her to someone who could help. He was moving quickly now, quicker than she thought humanly possible. She wondered faintly how fast Fae could move. She knew she must be going in and out of consciousness because one moment they were in a hall and the next they were in a large room and she could hear a voice, a very angry voice shouting. Then she felt herself being lifted away to be put on a soft surface where she sank down into a bed full of pillows. More arguing ensued as she lay there, the light of the room fading and brightening again in her vision.
Her head was pounding so loudly she could feel the blood rushing in her ears, it was like the sound of a great waterfall. Where was she? Why was she in a room she didn't recognize? She tried to rise from the bed, but strong hands gently pushed her back down and held her there, whispering sweet words to her that she didn't know. Where was Karen and father? Where was Toby? She began to panic, her heart was racing. Then she heard her name from a voice she recognized.
"Sarah. Just breathe. Look at me—look atme.In and out. Breathe with me, okay?" Jareth's eyes were wild and raw. She looked into his eyes and began to remember where she was. A castle. The Seelie King's castle. His hand stroked the hair from her sweat-covered face. His voice kept going in and out. She saw his lips moving but couldn't make out what he was saying. Then he was yelling again at someone. There was movement and she could feel an arm slip underneath her back and prop her up against a warm body. A cool glass was put to her lips, the liquid touched her tongue and slid to the back of her parched throat. She nearly swallowed it but her eyes suddenly went wide. NO! She spat the liquid out.
"Sarah—"
"No!" She yelled. "I want to go home. You promised. I can't—I can't eat or drink."
There was a moment of silence. "You have not eaten or drank anything for two days?" Jareth was trying to remain calm but she could hear the barely contained anger that lay underneath. Sarah winced and his anger was gone in a flash. "I do not break promises I intend to keep. Now drink, I command it."
"No." She stubbornly refused.
"You stubborn chit of a woman. I can bring over food and drink from your world so you will not be bound to mine. Now drink." There was a white glow near the bedside table that blinded Sarah for a moment before subsiding, the light making her headache worse. "Here, he put another cup to her lips. Drink this. I swear on Toby's life this drink will not bind you here."
Sarah couldn't care anymore. When he lifted the cups to her lips and spilled the cold, clear water down her throat she drank in great gulps, nearly choking herself in the process. He pulled the cup away gently. "Slow down, take small sips. I've enhanced the water to rehydrate you."
Sarah could already breathe better and the room was slowly coming into focus. Cian was no longer in the room, she and Jareth were the only ones present. Sarah finished the water he had given her after a few moments and he placed it on the bedside table. He looked at her for a moment like he had something to say but instead, he turned away, gently removing his arm from behind her back and stood, leaving her alone in the bed. Sarah's heart ached for a moment but she pushed the feeling away, reminding herself he had a fiancée.
"You should be feeling better already with the spell I put on the water."
Sarah slowly sat upright in the bed and looked around the room. She didn't know what she had expected the Goblin King's room to look like, but it was not what she had pictured. The room was mainly bare, a large four poster bed lay in the middle in front of a large fireplace. There were warm red carpets in many different shades covering the stone floor. The only other furniture was the nightstand, a desk and a dining table with four high-backed chairs sitting around it in front of an open window.
The headache had not subsided, but the confusion and dizziness had left her. She felt a bit more like herself—foolish as ever.
"Are you hungry?" He asked politely, all traces of anger gone from his voice.
Sarah nodded.
He flicked his wrist in an elaborate dance and a crystal appeared in his hand. She remembered when he had offered her one twice before but this time the crystal left his fingers and gently floated like a bubble to the dining table where it grew to a much larger size until it popped, leaving behind a plate full of food. There was a huge sandwich full of roasted vegetables, pastrami and ham on a sourdough bread, piping hot French fries that she could smell from here and a dark bubbly drink that looked like a coke. Sarah leapt from the bed on wobbly legs and ran to table, sitting down and devouring the food like a starving animal.
The corner of Jareth's mouth turned up in a smirk at how uncouth she seemed at this moment. It was almost endearing that she didn't care enough to keep her guard up around him.
"Do you like it?" He asked.
"Izz ta best ting I ever tasted." She said through a mouthful of fries, washing it down with the drink. The smile on her face was pure joy when she figured out what it was. "Coke." She said, relishing the word. She looked like a content cat that had just caught it's first mouse. He liked seeing her happy.
He nodded and sat at the other side of the table, watching her eat.
"Feel better?"
Sarah stopped chewing for a moment to assess her body. She swallowed and nodded. "Yes, I do. Did you magic this food as well?"
"Magic this food?" He grinned and Sarah blushed, when he saw her avert her eyes he quickly became serious, not wanting to embarrass her further. "Yes. I did. You should be fully revived after you finish that meal. However, I would like to know how you got away with not eating for two whole days here?"
She shrugged. "I lied."
"Well, that shall be remedied from now on. I will bring food over from Aboveground and have the cook bring it to your room while you are here in the castle. I don't want to hear of you not eating ever again, are we clear?"
"And when I'm not in the castle? Then what will you do?"
"I see you are staying with the Cheshire twins. I know their dwelling. I will find a way to get it to you, even if I have to bring it myself."
Sarah blushed, it was quite unnerving having to rely on the Goblin King for sustenance but if she didn't want to be stuck here for good, then she would have to acquiesce. "Thank you."
There was a knock at the door and Cian entered the room. He looked at Sarah and relief flooded his face to see her sitting up in a chair and eating. Jareth nodded his thanks and Cian placed a small journal on the table in between them. "Here. You dropped this when you—well, earlier in the gallery."
Sarah finished her fries and smiled. "Oh, thank you. That's something very precious to me. I'd be lost without it." She clutched the journal to her like a secret treasure.
Cian smiled. "You're welcome."
Jareth felt a sting of jealousy, his eyes growing serious. "Thank you, Cian, now that you've seen the girl is well, you may leave."
Cian only grinned and bowed. "Of course, your majesty. My apologies for disturbing you." He left without another word.
Sarah stared carefully at Jareth as she finished the last of her coke. "Your mad." She said simply.
"Mad doesn't quite describe it." He said simply, his eyes narrowing at her.
"Well?"
"Well, what?" He ground out in annoyance.
"What would describe it?"
"I am a blazing fire of rage."
Sarah snorted. "A bit dramatic, don't you think?"
"Dramatic? You nearly died of dehydration on my bed because you thought you didn't want to be stuck in the Underground and you are callingmedramatic?"
"There is nothing dramatic about wanting to go back to my home. I don't want to be stuck here. I love my family but if I were to stay I would want it to be my choice, not something that is forced upon me."
He calmed instantly at her words.If she were to stay? Had she actually thought about that prospect? He shook his head to clear it. No. Hope was a cruel friend.
"What were you doing in the gallery?" He asked, changing the subject.
"Looking for you."
Jareth's breath caught in his throat. He stared at her and she stared back, her green eyes intense and clear, her face belying nothing of her emotions. "And why is that?" He asked casually.
"Well, three things really. She began counting on her fingers absentmindedly, staring at the ceiling. "One, I wanted your opinion on my journal, two, I would like your help in figuring out how to get out of this trier alive and with my memories intact and three, I would then like to kill you for leaving me alone in the throne room to fend for myself with ancient, powerful Fae." She ended by folding her hands on the table in front of her now empty plate and smiling at him with a sinister look in her eye.
"Kill me? Get in line on that one." Jareth huffed. "And I can't help you with the trier. I have been expressly forbidden from doing so."
Sarah held up a finger. "Actually, I believe the king's very words were, 'everyone here is forbidden from saying anything to aid you,' and you were not in that throne room when he said it, so technically that doesn't apply to you."
Jareth smiled. "Clever girl." She had learned much since her time in the Underground.
He watched as she shivered at his words, from her body language, he could tell it was not in a good way. "What is it?"
"Nothing." She waved him away though she could see he was having none of it, he didn't push her on the matter. Good thing, that. How could she tell him that phrase now gave her the creeps said from Unseelie lips? Nothing good would come of her bargain with the devil. What was she going to do? That Unseelie noble was going to make her hurt Jareth and just to keep her memories of him she was going to allow it. Was it worth it? Her heart ached with the thought but she didn't have the answer to it.
Jareth watched as Sarah wrang her hands underneath the table, so lost in thought maybe she didn't think he would notice. She was keeping something from him, he could tell and she was bothered by it. "Sarah." She looked at him then when he called her name gently. Her eyes were misty with unshed tears and her face was worn from the weariness of the past couple days. He wanted to take everything away from her, to wrap her up in a warm dream and take away her pain, "I know you and I have not always seen eye to eye, that you have casted me as an enemy because of my actions. In my defense, as I have said before, I have only ever done what you asked me to do." She was about to argue but he held up a hand. "Let me finish. It is not in my interest to harm you, and I know you have no reason to trust me but I can assure you that should you need my help, I will do everything in my power to make sure you survive this trier with your memories intact."
Sarah nodded and placed a hand on the small journal on the table next to her. She closed her eyes for a moment. She couldn't believe she was about to do this. Did she really want to bare all to him? To let the one person in to her memories, her thoughts and dreams who had tried to destroy her? She shook a bit as she looked at him, his face was impassive but open, showing no emotion, letting her decide whether she should tell him.
"I…I need your help." Her voice quivered.
Jareth only waited for her to continue. He could tell she wasn't sure about this step, that she didn't trust him. All he could do was quietly wait for her to continue. This had to be her choice and if she chose to trust him with this, he vowed to himself he would die before he would let himself fail with the way she was looking at him now, like a fragile flower opening her petals to him that would fall at the slightest gust of breeze. He would need to be delicate.
She waited for any sign of the old Jareth, of any bait or snide comments but he remained quiet, listening so she continued, "I had an idea to write down my memories from the labyrinth in a journal."
Jareth looked at the journal. In surprise or jealously she couldn't tell. Sarah clutched it to her heart and his face seemed to soften.
"I don't know if I have forgotten anything though. And I keep asking myself if it would be better to not know and forget or would it be better to have you read it and trust you to tell me the truth and let me know if I have left anything out of importance?"
He nodded. "That is a problem. I cannot advise you in which way to go. I do not think it fair as I have my own interests at heart, of course." Sarah scowled. "But I promise you this, I will never use your memories against you and I will take the knowledge of them to my grave if you deem me worthy enough to read them." He said in all seriousness.
Sarah had never seen this side of him and wondered where it had been earlier when she needed him in throne room. It was almost maddening, she wanted to strike him, to throw things at him, instead she gently laid the journal down on the table and got up, walking over to the window overlooking the castle grounds. She heard him slide his chair out, his boot heels clicking as he picked up the soft leather journal, she turned in time to see him put it in his desk drawer, locking it with a key that he slipped into his pocket.
"You aren't going to read it now?" She asked.
"Do you want me to? I would think it would unnerve you. I had thought it would be better to do so on my own and then speak with you on it at a different time. Besides, it will give me an excuse to see you again, then." He smiled.
Sarah rolled her eyes. "Very well." Part of her was relieved and part of her was a bit disappointed, she hoped she was making the right decision. "Jareth…" Sarah traced a finger along the stone windowsill, lost in thought, wondering if she should even ask the question that was on her mind. She didn't know if she could bare the answer he was sure to give her.
He didn't speak but she knew he was listening to her.
"Why did you bring me here?" She couldn't bear to look at him, instead she closed her eyes tight, praying she wouldn't hear something repugnant from his lips. Please, please be delicate, she prayed.
"Because you wished to be taken away. I didn't think it prudent to spirit you away to a wasteland so here we are."
"Oh." Sarah's face fell.
"You were hoping for something else?"
She shook her head. "No, I suppose not." There was silence for a moment. She looked up and he was standing right beside her, she had not heard him move from the bedside, her breath caught a moment in her throat at the nearness of him. She forgot how imposing and striking he could be. Her voice shook. "It's just…"
"Yes?" He prodded, raising an eyebrow.
"Why?" Her voice was sharper than she intended, cutting through the silence like a blade. Her hands were trembling, a mixture of anger and desperation rising in her chest. "Why did you bring me here, then? Right when you were about to make your vows to Fleur?"
Jareth's expression was guarded, the usual coolness in his gaze present but slightly frayed. He regarded her for a long moment, his mismatched eyes—one a deep blue, the other a pale, icy hue—studying her as if weighing his response.
"I had no choice," he finally said, his voice smooth but lacking the usual confidence it held. "The timing wasn't something I controlled."
Sarah took a step forward, her brow furrowing. "No choice? You're Jareth, the Goblin King. You always have a choice. Why didn't you leave me Aboveground? Why didn't you let me live my life without—withoutthis?" She gestured around her wildly, frustration bubbling to the surface. "I'm losing my memories, Jareth. My life. Everything. Why did you pull me into this mess when you knew what would happen?"
His eyes darkened, and for a moment, the familiar sharpness she knew so well crept back into his tone. "You think I wanted this? That I planned for you to be cursed, to forget everything?" He took a step toward her, his voice low and edged with a bitter frustration of his own. "There are forces in the Seelie court, Sarah, that even I am bound to. The moment you arrived, they took notice."
"I'm not some pawn in your political games, Jareth! You brought me here knowing what this place does to people like me. You could have—" Her voice broke slightly. "You could have warned me. You could have told me what was going to happen."
His jaw tightened, and for a moment, the mask he wore so perfectly slipped. "If I had warned you, do you think you would have listened?" His voice was low, filled with an edge of bitterness. "You wanted answers, Sarah. You wanted to understand what had happened to the Labyrinth,me, everything. You always push for more, even when it's dangerous. Bringing you here… it was the only way to give you those answers."
Sarah shook her head, tears welling up in her eyes. "You brought me here to punish me. You knew what would happen the moment I stepped foot in this world. You knew I would lose myself."
Jareth looked away, his expression unreadable for a long beat, and then he spoke, his voice quieter. "It wasn't my intent."
"Then what was your intent?" she demanded, her voice thick with emotion.
Jareth finally stepped toward her, his eyes softer, though still guarded. "I didn't want this, Sarah. Not for you." He hesitated, and she could sense the weight of whatever he wasn't saying hanging between them. "But there are forces in the Seelie court that even I cannot control. The timing was not mine to decide."
Her heart twisted painfully. "Then whose?"
For a moment, silence stretched between them. Then Jareth spoke again, his voice distant. "The curse wasn't meant for you. But now, you're part of it. The Seelie court… it doesn't let go easily, not once it's decided to act."
Sarah's lips trembled as the reality of her situation settled in. Her mind felt like it was slipping further into darkness every day, and even now, she struggled to remember why she had ever cared so much about getting here, about finding answers. But there was one thing she knew for sure, one thing that still burned brightly inside her, even as everything else was beginning to fade: her anger, her pain, her betrayal.
"You should have stopped it," she whispered, her voice shaking. "You should have found another way. I trusted you."
Jareth's gaze softened, and for a brief moment, the mask he wore fell away completely. "I know," he said, his voice barely audible. "And that is something I will have to live with."
Sarah closed her eyes, tears spilling down her cheeks. She was losing herself, piece by piece, and Jareth, the one person who might have stopped it, had let it happen. The weight of that truth pressed down on her, heavy and unyielding.
Without another word, she turned and left the room, the sound of her footsteps echoing through the cold, dark hall. Jareth watched her go, his face unreadable once more, though his clenched fists and the faint tension in his posture betrayed the storm brewing beneath the surface. The sound of footsteps pulled him from his thoughts and for a moment hope fluttered in his chest that she was returning to say something else. Fleur appeared at the door's entrance, her gown trailing behind her, shimmering and perfect, her smile cold as ever. His heart sank.
Fleur watched as his face fell. "Thinking of her again, I see," She said softly, her voice like a bell ringing.
Jareth didn't respond immediately. His gaze flickered toward her, but his expression remained guarded, as if the weight of his thoughts was too great to share. Fleur moved to his side, her hand resting lightly on his shoulder as she stood beside him. He didn't push her away as she knew he wouldn't but his stony stance let her know he didn't care for her company at the moment. She only smiled in amusement, this form of torture thrilled her.
"You can't save her, you know," Fleur continued, her words filled with an almost amused detachment. "She's already chosen her path. Bronin's taken quite a liking to her, I hear. Who can blame him, though, he always was attracted to twisted, ugly creatures."
Jareth's eyes flashed, a cold fire igniting behind them as he turned sharply to face her. "What did you say?" His voice was low, dangerous.
Fleur's lips curled into a delicate smile, her fingers brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. "Oh, you didn't know?" she said sweetly. "Bronin has been talking of courting her. Perhaps with our own engagement you can focus on what is important now and she might be taken care of by someone other than an engaged man." She spit out the last two words, reminding him of his duties.
Jareth brushed her arm away, the sudden shift of energy in the air palpable. "This is a game to you," he snarled, his anger barely contained. "But I won't let him have her."
Fleur's laugh was soft, dismissive. "You think you still have control, Jareth? Sarah's already slipping through your hands. The Unseelie King is clever. You won't be able to stop her forgetting—tonight's ball will seal her fate."
Jareth's fists clenched at his sides, the weight of helplessness gnawing at him. His mind raced, searching for a way to stop this. The thought of Sarah in Bronin's arms, her memories fading as they danced through the night, tore at him in ways he hadn't expected.
She stood on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear. "You have lost Goblin King. It is high time you accept your place by my side and stop playing with mortals who are so easily disposed of." Fleur walked past him gracefully, "I'll see you at the ball, darling," she murmured, casting him a glance over her shoulder. "You'll need to learn to let go eventually. She was never meant for you."
As Fleur disappeared into the shadows, Jareth stood alone in his room, the weight of his choices pressing down on him. He had to stop Bronin. He had to save Sarah before it was too late. But the labyrinth of his own heart was more treacherous than any he had ever created, and now, time was slipping away faster than he could grasp.
Thank you everyone who follows this story. Sorry for the long wait with this chapter. I now found out I am pregnant with my third goblin recently. So while I will still be writing this story and Etain, it may be longer than a week between chapters. I digress between the sickness and everything I will try my best. Please like, comment and follow if you like it! Thank you as always and Labyrinth and its denizens do not belong to me sadly.