Prized Possession

AN: Thanks so much to all of you who have been reviewing, the feedback really helps. And for those of you who are wondering, yes as you can tell I am back...and am still working on finishing this story. I only have a couple chapters left to write, so it shouldn't be too long now. Chpater 39 is almost finished. I'll post it when I'm done. I also plan to post some of my other works on this site, once I get the chance to proofread them. Thanks for sticking with me! -J

Prized Possession
By: Jester

Chapter 37: Eruption

Sarah had already searched the dining hall, the library, the throne room, and the castle gardens, when a lanky goblin guard approached her in the great hall. His armor clanked noisily as he shuffled towards her. Only his snout protruded from the oversized helmet, which had fallen down over his eyes.

He stopped in front of her, puffing out his chest as he straightened himself. "Sarah..." he huffed, obviously winded from his jaunt through the castle. "His highness wants a word with you. He waits in his chamber." Sarah nodded hastily, as she was more than eager to meet with Jareth. Figures he'd be in his room now. After she had waited and waited for him. She politely thanked the Goblin and hurried off in the direction of the grand staircase.

After a very brief detour to her own chamber to freshen up, she stood before the door that separated her room from Jareth's. Just as she raised her fist to knock, the heavy door swung open, groaning on its ancient hinges. Lowering her fist, she stepped inside
his bedchamber.

The room was rather dark. Only sparse light spilled in from the balcony and it was somber at best, as the sky was overcast. The grey light seemed to fade as the sun sunk lower behind the thunderheads on the horizon. Suddenly the heavy wooden door slammed with a loud clank. She jumped at the sound, silently vowing that she'd never get used to the creepiness of doors that opened and closed by themselves. Undeterred, she ventured further into the opulent room. Her jade eyes darkened, taking in more light as her gaze swept the seemingly vacant room.

Jareth was nowhere to be found.

She was about to turn and leave when something stopped her. There was something different about the air in the room, a subtle stirring, making her skin tingle. Not unlike an electric charge, it made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. She couldn't pinpoint the source, but the very air around her seemed to crackle with some unleashed energy.

Jareth.

No sooner had the thought occurred, when a sudden flash of lightening illuminated the room from the open balcony. She half expected to see a white owl fly in, but instead only the jarring crash of thunder met her ears, startling her. The crash was close, far too close. Hastily she backed away from the balcony, nearly tripping over her feet as all the candles and sconces in the room suddenly sputtered and blazed to life. Holding a frightened hand over her chest she turned just in time to see the King of the Goblins emerge from the shadows.

Somehow he appeared crueler than she had ever remembered him. His sharp striking features and cold expression were only intensified by the paleness of his alabaster skin. His mouth, which so often held a touch of arrogant amusement, was devoid of any mirth, and was instead set into the severest of frowns.

His icy gaze raked over her as he stalked closer, his lips tightening into a thin grim line. The picture sent a chill through her body, despite the fact that the room was rather warm. Unable to meet his gaze, she lowered her eyes, noticing how the black fabric of his opened poet's shirt looked shocking against the marble white skin of his chest. Dropping her eyes lower she saw that his hands and lower body were also encased in black leather. The part of her brain that would have normally greeted such a sight with a feral purr, was too busy being frightened, for even in her startled stupor, she knew the unpleasant truth immediately. Something's wrong.

Only after a startled gasp escaped her lips, did she realize that she had been backing away from his imposing presence. She stiffened suddenly, making a conscious effort to stand her ground. Catching her breath she admonished, "Jareth...You scared me."

His tone was chillingly indifferent, "Did I?"

"Yes. Where have you been? I've been looking for you all afternoon."

"Is that so? Why is that?"

Caught slightly off guard by the question she stammered, "I uh...well, I guess I was just a bit lonely." Her reply was met with silence. Ignoring the gut feeling that something was terribly off, she told herself that he might be in a sour mood due to any number of mundane reasons. Maybe the cause was whatever monotonous task had kept him away all day. Perhaps if she could just lighten the mood a bit...It was worth a shot.

She bit her lip shyly, offering a playful grin as she admitted, "I missed you Jareth...where have you been?"

His reply was firm, "That's none of your business." Leveling a cold glare at her, he went on, "Now...the reason I summoned you..."

She cut him off, disbelief infiltrating her voice, "Summoned me?"

"Yes, our little trek last night did a number on my boots. I want them polished. See to it that they are gleaming by the time I return."

Gaping at him, she dumbly mumbled, "Polish your boots? By the time you return...You're leaving?!?"

"That is precisely what I said. Are you hard of hearing?" He strode away from her not bothering to look back as he emphasized, "Remember...gleaming."

Quickly she darted ahead of him, slamming her body against the door to block his exit. Her eyes were wide with disbelief as she demanded, "Why are you treating me like this?"

He sighed impatiently, "Like what Sarah? Like someone bound to do as I say? You may remember that is why you are here...to do whatever I tell you to do."

Aghast, she spat, "What?! You can't be serious!"

Narrowing his eyes he evenly replied, "I can and I am. Dead serious."

Frustration and anger were evident in her voice as she sputtered, "But...what about last night...and the last few days...everything you said...everything I said."

Jareth shrugged indifferently, his reply cold as it was cruel, "What about it?"

Feeling as if a barrel of ice water had just been dumped over her head, Sarah could do nothing but stare wide-eyed in shock.

But despite the fact that she couldn't believe what she was hearing, the Goblin king kept right on talking, "The fact that we were intimate doesn't change the fact that your life, for the remainder of the year, belongs to me." As an afterthought he added, "Nor does it change the fact that I have a kingdom to run."

The blood had now drained completely from Sarah's face as her worst fears were being realized. This couldn't be happening...It had to be a dream.

But Jareth's firm grip on her arm as he shoved her aside was all too real. Something had happened. The way he was behaving was proof of it. His cold exterior was merely a front for some other emotion, something much more dark and sinister.

She reached for him in desperation, and his gloved hand caught her wrist. His grip tightened as he warned in an icy whisper, "Do not touch me."

Stunned by the graveness of his tone she babbled, "But...last night..."

He leaned in, his leering face only inches from her own, the iron grip of his fingers bruising her delicate wrist. His tone was scornful and derisive, "While I have enjoyed your affections, they are no longer required...."

Her liquid green eyes darted over his face as though searching for answers. Pulling her hand free she demanded, "Jareth what's wrong? Why are you so angry?"

With a sinister arch of his eyebrow he drawled, "What makes you think I'm angry?"

"You must be. Why else would you treat me like this?"

"Like what exactly?"

"Like your...whore." She chanced a glance at his face and immediately regretted it.

His tone was arrogant and triumphant, "Because Sarah that is precisely what you are."

And there it was.

His words cut deep, snuffing out any ember of hope that remained in her. She had begun to trust him, and just when she had convinced herself that he wasn't the villain she had made him out to be, he had proven her wrong in one sentence. Those few cruel words had sent the tower of possibility that she had constructed in her mind crashing to the floor. She had let herself be deceived. Behind the shimmering image of all she hoped he truly could be, hid the true monster, and she had just gotten an unpleasant glimpse. Cold, cruel and hateful was all he seemed now.

She had thought that she had misunderstood him, that his cool indifferent exterior had merely been the result of lifetimes of isolation and the power that his title afforded him. She had been sure that a decent person existed just under the hard exterior, and that given enough time, she could change him.

It looked as though she had been gravely mistaken.

Jareth had only sought to use her. The realization washed over her, bringing with it deep regret and terrible anger. The potent mixture of such unsettling emotions overwhelmed her. She closed her eyes against the wave of repulsion and nausea. For an instant she feared she would throw up. After taking a deep breath the urge to wretch subsided, but the anger lingered and swelled to a rage so hot that she was overcome by the desire to hurt him.

Her jaw clenched painfully driving her teeth together as her hands balled into tight fists at her side. She was consumed by the urge to lash out and hit him, clenching her fists tighter, she fought to restrain herself.

He would expect hysterics and a dramatic reaction. No doubt he was expecting her to hit him. She was determined not to give him the satisfaction at seeing her lose control.

As her blazing emerald eyes rose to meet his cool blue and hazel ones her suspicions were confirmed. His frame had tensed as if anticipating her attack. His expression was one of smug patience as he awaited her unavoidable outburst. She seethed at his presumptiousness, no doubt he had some devastating remark ready to sling at her. She afforded herself another deep calming breath, cooling her blazing fury to an icy resolve. No, she wouldn't resort to cruelty. She was better than that...better than him.

She inhaled sharply, her eyes bright with defiance as she raised her head high. With all the grace she could manage she evenly replied, "Well, I'm glad I know now where we stand. If that's truly how you feel, than we have nothing more to say to one another."

With that she turned on her heel and strode silently from his room. She didn't even slam his door on the way out. She simply left. No screaming, no hysterics, no violence.

Jareth stared in stunned silence as she simply walked away. This was not the hot tempered impulsive display he had expected. He was so unsettled by her uncharacteristic exit that he failed to notice the small black bird that took flight from his balcony.

Sarah stormed down the long stone corridors of the goblin Castle, her arms limply hugging her body as her vision began to blur. Her hands clutched tightly at the fabric of her skirt. She would not cry. Not here at least. She knew his sight was not restricted to what was right in front of him, and she was not going to give him the luxury of knowing that he had broken her heart quite effectively into pieces.

She had to get out of the castle. She burst through the large entrance doors to the castle, startling a flock of birds that were scavenging the nearby grounds. Darkness had already settled over the Underground and thunder rumbled in the distance as heavy raindrops pounded on the ground and stone entrance. Sarah was grateful for the rain, which felt blessedly cool on her burning cheeks as it mingled with the hot tears that she could no longer contain.

Wrapping her arms about herself for warmth she stumbled blindly through the pouring rain, heading in the general direction of the Goblin City. For a good part of the night she wandered aimlessly, oblivious to the few goblins that scurried across her path dashing for cover from the torrential downpour. Sarah had no desire to escape the rain, she let it wash over her as the endless stream of tears poured down her face.

The pain of Jareth's cold cruel words reverberated painfully in her mind. The depair and sadness seeped in and surrounded her like a dark fathomless ocean, with seemingly no way out. She wandered on aimlessly into the night, not caring where she would end up. For the time being it was better to remain in the downpour where at least the rain would mask her tears.

It seemed an eternity that she walked and cried.

Finally, through the wind and the rain came the unmistakable sound of goblin voices. There were a great many of them and above the rising din came shouts of merriment and mischievous laughter. The sudden racket jolted Sarah away from her thoughts and she halted, peering through the driving rain to seek the source of the noise.

There was a modest bulging hut up on her right. Smoke billowed from the tiny metal chimney atop the simple thatched roof and warm yellow light spilled through the numerous crisscrosses of the small square windows. Moving closer to the hut she squinted to see inside.

Many goblins were assembled inside the place, lounging about on long wooden tables and benches, some were singing, rather badly, with arms thrown carelessly about one another. Most of them were brandishing casks and flagons overflowing with ale.

Sarah looked over and spotted the door to the establishment. An unimpressive wooden sign swung back and forth in the wind just over the entrance. It read, "The Barrel Burrow." The crude carving on the sign depicted a goblin drinking from a barrel of ale.

Realization dawned on her. This was an Underground pub, a beer hall for goblins.

Under normal circumstances Sarah would have simply kept right on walking, but the circumstances were worlds away from normal. The pain of Jareth's cold cruel words pierced her to the core. The despair and sadness she felt surrounded her like a dark fathomless ocean, and she was drowning.

Nothing in the world could take the pain away, but some hard core liquor would be a start. If it would at least take the edge off, than so be it. Sarah was no fool. She knew that drinking would not solve any of her problems. But she was not looking for a solution. She was looking for temporary numbness. Unconsciousness would even be blessed compared to the agony she was now enduring.

Certainly the tavern would have something potent. Sarah stepped up to the door, blinking the tears and rain out of her eyes. With a sigh she slicked her dripping hair back and out of her face. As she pushed the door open, she was engulfed by the wild chatter and blasted by the heat from the fire that blazed in the hearth.

She gave the place a cursory glance. The walls were crude plaster supported by a multitude of heavy wooden beams. The straw on the floor made it feel more like a barn than a bar, but this was no time to be choosy. Scores of goblins of all shapes and sizes, were scattered over the crude benches and tables made from split logs. Raucous laughter and frivolous drinking songs spilled from their beaks and mouths as ale sloshed over the tops of their primitive mugs.

It took a moment for the goblins to notice the sopping wet human in the doorway, but little by little they fell silent until eventually all eyes settled on her. Sarah approached the bar, which by the look of it, had once been a heavy wooden door. Hastily she wiped the tears and rain from her face. The chill in her icy fingers penetrated deep, into the bone, a sharp contrast to her burning cheeks. Her face felt as though it were on fire as she took in the goblin crowd that was now staring expectantly at her.

She knew she must look a frightful mess, and she blushed furiously, realizing that her misery must have been horrendously plain to them. It didn't make her feel at all better knowing that it wouldn't take much for even their simple goblin minds to discern the cause of her misery.

The wiry little barkeep's rag halted its haphazard wiping as the girl stepped up to the bar. Craning his neck up, the small goblin eyed her questioningly. Sarah slumped onto the nearest stool, which had been made from a tree stump. "What's the strongest thing you've got?"

The goblin's eyes widened as Sarah produced a gold coin and slid it across the bar. As he disappeared beneath the bar Sarah could hear the sound of bottles clanking together as things were moved around. After a moment the goblin resurfaced with a squat glass bottle full of brown liquid in hand. "Wormwood Draught." He stated as he set down the bottle, "Strongest stuff in these parts, that is. Pint a that and ya won't even remember who y'are, nevermind where y'been." The goblin gave her a snaggle-toothed grin as he set a teeny shot glass in front of her.

Sarah's green eyes settled on him as she resolutely stated, "Leave the bottle."

His eyes widened but he merely shook his head as he ventured, "Want a cup at least?"

Sarah shook her head as she uncorked the bottle with her teeth, "That won't be necessary."

* * *

Meanwhile, elsewhere in the Underground...

Leaves rustled on a young sapling as Mordred emerged from the dense forest. His stony jade colored eyes were fixed on the raven that scratched at the stone floor of the ancient circle. As Mordred approached the raven hopped frantically causing a stirring of black feathers before it resumed it's true form. Nyx stood imperiously where the bird had just been, his shock of black hair and perfectly tailored black velvet overcoat sharply contrasted with his white cravat and fair skin. His metallic grey eyes danced with impatience as he awaited the news his messenger had brought.

Mordred knew his master well enough to cut to the chase. "It is time. They are at odds." Nyx nodded eagerly, "You're certain?" Mordred's mouth twisted into a jagged grin that was wholly sinister, "I overheard them myself. The girl left the castle."

A slow smile crept over Nyx's face, "Summon the others. We have work to do."

Much later that night...

Sarah staggered down the hallway to her room in the goblin castle, thankful that she hadn't run into anyone, especially Jareth. Now, saturated with alcohol, she was feeling brazenly uninhibited. There was no telling what she might say or do if she and his highness crossed paths. Simply navigating the dark corridors to her room was challenging enough. Even collecting her few belongings would require severe concentration on her part, exercising any restraint, whether vocal or physical, was not even an option in her current state.

After double-checking to make sure she had reached her room and not Jareth's, she took a swig from the bottle clutched in her hand and flung the door open, not even comprehending that the sound would surely travel. Hastily she began dumping the contents of several of the dresser drawers onto the bed.


Sarah wasn't in any condition to be making intelligent decisions about what she may or may not need in her haphazard flight from the castle, so she was going with less discriminating method of just dumping her belongings into the crude sack she had made out of her blankets. In one fluid motion she used her arm to send everything on the top of her dresser flying onto the top of the nearby pile. She would have enjoyed the disarray and commotion had it not been for one thing.

His haughty voice came from behind, like a cold calm cutting through her deliberate attempt of making chaos. "What exactly do you think you are doing?"

As if by instinct, her fingers curled tightly around the smooth glass of the bottle. She turned towards his voice, raising the bottle to her lips as their eyes met. Her intense green eyes remained locked with his as she swilled a mouthful of the burning liquid. The searing of her throat reminded her of the blazing anger she still felt towards him. Mercifully, the mind numbing draught had dulled the breath taking pain caused by his earlier onslaught, but her anger remained, and if anything it was only sharpened by the drink.

Carefully she lowered the bottle and used her sleeve to wipe her lips. Sarcastically she slurred, "Exactly what it looks like I'm doing. Packing."

Jareth stalked closer, crossing his arms over his chest. It infuriated her that even his mannerisms could appear so indifferent. He regarded her for a moment, and when he finally replied, his tone was smug as he tsked, "In case you have forgotten our little bargain, might I remind you that leaving my kingdom is out of the question."

Before he could say another word she drunkenly interjected, "I'm well aware of that."

"In that case...just where do you plan on going?"

"I don't really care. The forest, the stable...the deepest darkest oubliette, or even the bog of eternal stench. I don't give a shit where I spend the night, so long as it's far, far away from you."

"Is that so?"

His mouth was drawn into a somber line, and for one fleeting moment Sarah thought she saw a flicker of regret. But before she could even be sure, it was gone, replaced by indifference.

"After the way you treated me? Yes!" She hesitated for a moment desperately fighting to keep the tears from spilling over. Her eyes were glassy and she was sure it was obvious that she was seconds away from breaking down, but she blinked back the stinging tears. No way was she going to lose it in front of him.

But suddenly there was that uncertainty again. His eyes met hers and for a second they softened with something like concern, his unfeeling mask momentarily slipping. His frown deepened for an instant, before he quickly averted his eyes and lowered his head. Sarah froze, as every fiber of her being screamed to give him a second chance. Though she knew the error of it, she could not stop her herself from feeling. With every breath that tiny flicker of hope burned brighter, her heart beating that single desire for him to make everything right again.

Softly she stammered, "...unless...well...unless you have something else to say to me." Turning his back on her he started back toward his room.

Sarah readied herself for his reply. She expected his authoritative refusal, or some display of bravado to cover up the fact that he cared. God forbid that he actually admit he was hurting too. She had come to expect condescension from him, or a stern warning, perhaps he'd even drag her to the dungeon for her defiance, basically anything that would circumvent the truth. But still she hoped...maybe an all out shouting match would bring her closer to the truth of why he was acting like this.

With his back to her he quietly replied, "I've said my piece, do what you will Sarah."

His reaction was not at all what she had imagined. No ultimatum, nor drama of any kind. He merely walked away.

As he strode back through the doorway of his chamber he left Sarah gaping where she stood in disbelief. He didn't want the last biting word? No stream of condescending remarks? Impossible. Maybe he was having a change of heart...maybe he was already having regrets.

Aghast with disbelief she hurried after him, her bottle of wormsword draught still dangling from her hand as she caught up to him in his chamber. Incredulously she demanded, "You're not even going to try and stop me?"

His tone was indifferent as he glanced back at her, "Why should I?"

She was at a loss for words, "I..."

He interrupted, "Sleep wherever you want Sarah. So long as you remain within the confines of my kingdom, it is none of my concern."

She detected an element of coldness in his voice, but she was growing weary of trying to decipher his cryptic behavior. She was far too drunk for it. If he wanted to be cold and abrupt, than so would she.

Vehemently she spat with finality, "Fine. Whatever. Goodbye Jareth."

Turning on her heel she made for the door with no intention of looking back. But his voice stopped her.

"Wait...Before you leave..."

It was the touch of something almost civil in his voice that made her turn around, however when she saw his icy expression she second-guessed herself. In a tired voice she sighed, "What is it?"

"Before you leave..." his lips twisting into a cruel smirk, "You'd better do as I requested..."

Her eyes widened at his audacity as he finished, "...My boots are in severe need of polishing."

What a dick. She closed her eyes slowly as his words sunk in, kindling an anger so hot it nearly made her see red.

The next few moments seemed to happen in slow motion. Slowly she brought the bottle to her lips. The glass felt cool against her mouth as she took a long drought. Taking the drink allowed her just enough time to contemplate her move. The shocking taste of the liquor seemed to give her momentary clarity of mind. The burning liquid seared her throat, but the sensation was no match for the fire that coursed through her veins. Fury overwhelmed her sensibilities, and with deadly acuity her feral eyes sought what she was looking for.

His black leather boots sat innocently at the foot of his monstrous bed. They had done nothing wrong, it was too bad that they were about to bear the brunt of her wrath. It seemed she was instantly beside them, and without so much as a glance in his direction she raised the bottle in her hand and tipped it, pouring the potent brown liquid all over, and inside, his pristine black leather boots.

Taken aback the goblin king could do nothing but stare as she emptied the bottle of booze all over his boots.

Still holding the empty bottle she viciously sneered, "There! Happy? No?" Before she even knew what she was doing she was flat out yelling at him, "Polish your own goddamn boots Jareth! I'm through taking orders, I'm through with this place...And I'm Through. With. You!!!!"

It took him several moments to replace the surprise on his face with disdain. She had already begun to storm away by the time he had collected himself enough to chide, "Ah yes. Run away Sarah. It's much easier than facing your mistakes head on isn't it?"

Stopping short she whipped around to face him. She was leaning close, and he noticed how red her face was, from her anger no doubt, and when she spoke he caught the strong smell of alcohol on her breath. "You're right Jareth. I have made mistakes. The biggest one being that I trusted you." She shook her head in disgust, "I knew I was crazy to have feelings for you...I should have listened to my instincts. You aren't anything but a monster, and I made a huge mistake to try and see you as something more. My actions have been loaded with mistakes since I came here...what the hell...what's one more?"

She turned her back on him and without hesitation she whipped the bottle across the room with brilliant accuracy. Her aim was perfect. The bottle struck the enormous gilded mirror dead center. With a sickening smash the mirror shattered into hundreds of tiny fragments. Without another word she grabbed up her belongings and strode out of the castle leaving the Goblin King speechless.

It was fortunate for Sarah that she knew the way to the stables like the back of her hand otherwise she never would have navigated the way through the dark with her vision blinded by tears. She was sure she was well out of sight from the castle when she finally broke down and cried. She was a sobbing mess by the time she reached the stable. Luckily Tempest had the ability to communicate mentally, otherwise he may not have ever gotten the gist of what had put her in such a state. He tried to be gentle and comforting, but he knew that the girl had to cry herself out before her emotions simply consumed her. Exhausted by her sobbing she curled up in her blankets atop a pile of hay in the loft above Tempest's stall.

Jareth paced the length of his bedroom, pausing long enough to snatch up one of his boots. After pouring out the liquid that had pooled inside, he cast the boot aside, frowning as he stooped to pick up a fragment of glass from the once impressive mirror. It wasn't the damage to the mirror or his boots that concerned him, for such damage could be righted with the flick of a wrist.

It was another sort of damage that irked him. He had just wreaked havoc on the delicate bonds he had so carefully forged with Sarah. Of course it had been his intent all along, well almost all along, until he had let his heart get the better of him, but his anger had put him back on the path that his scheme demanded. He had been merciless, and the injury he caused exceeded even his own expectations. Surly a wound like that would never heal.

His frown deepened as he let the fragment of glass fall back to the floor. He glanced about the empty room. Suddenly the air in the castle seemed oppressive, warm and uncomfortable. He couldn't think here.

Normally after achieving such a victory he would take flight over the labyrinth and revel in his accomplishment. Tonight he didn't feel much like flying, something about him felt much too heavy. Tonight he would walk.

The rain had stopped and the skies were once again clear. It was rather late and the sapphire night sky above the junkyard was full of brilliant stars that twinkled like precious diamonds. Jareth wandered amongst the towering piles of junk plagued by his thoughts. Pulling his jacket tighter for warmth he crouched beside a blazing fire that had burst into existence by a mere thought.

He knew he would be alone here, as it was late and the inhabitants of the junkyard would have retired to their beds by now. Silently he watched the fire, the mesmerizing flames aiding his contemplation. By all rights he should have been pleased. Sarah was now the one suffering a broken heart. He had won. Revenge was his.

In actuality he was anything but pleased. The flames danced in his dual colored eyes and for the first time in his life he truly felt like a monster. The thoughts circled through his head like a whirlwind of confusion. I hurt her. I deliberately and mercilessly hurt her.

He couldn't get the image out of his head, as the disbelief and hurt washed across her face. He knew that she could be a good actress when she wanted to be but there was no doubt in his mind that her pain was genuine. How could she have been so upset if she didn't love him?

She does love me.

The only one in the world brave enough to look for the good in me. She took a chance by getting to know me. By the fates she saw me and she loved and trusted me. And I hurt her. I betrayed that trust, I betrayed her because I didn't give her a chance. I didn't trust her because I am weak and afraid. All the power I possess, and I fear losing myself in this girl.

I am a coward. I am so afraid, that I hurt her on purpose. I am nothing but a villain. All this time I was protecting my pride, and what do I have to show for it? Nothing. I already have lost myself in her. I close my eyes and I see her smile, her sweet face. Now she knows what a true monster I am. I don't deserve her. How could she ever forgive me after hurting her so deeply? It is too late, I cannot undo what I have done.

I have lost. I've lost everything.

Chapter 38: Monarch in Distress

Desdemona shifted uneasily in her armchair, lowering her book as she glanced at the timepiece on the mantle. Only four hours had passed since her father had left the Northern Kingdom and already she was bored out of her mind. She was rather disappointed at her father's refusal for her to accompany him on his errand, but even she had to concede that it was probably better this way.

Distraction was always easier than dealing with grief, but she knew she'd eventually have to get over her feelings for the Goblin King's page boy. Of course the idea had occurred to her; that it would be the perfect opportunity to sneak off to the Goblin castle and offer her lost love a final goodbye, but it wasn't worth the risk. Not with Nyx already knowing what he knew. Surely he'd expect her to do something brash like that, which was no doubt the reason he'd been watching her like a hawk since the night of Jareth's masquerade.

The only way she could chance such an excursion would be if Nyx also left the Manor on business. A secretive smile formed at the idea. It was entirely possible. Though Nyx had been keeping a close eye on her, he had been away a lot as well. She had caught him returning late at night on many occasions. A dreamy look softened her features as she thought of stealing away to see Sargonne, but then she shook her head and thought better of it. No. I have to stop this ridiculousness. We could never be together. We've said our goodbyes, to force another meeting would just be adding insult to injury. Her delicate mouth curved into a tight frown. It would be wiser to face her grief and move on. At least if her brother left for the evening she would have the manor to herself and could wallow in private.

It was odd. What official business would be keeping Nyx in the dead of night? She frowned, perhaps it was not business at all, but pleasure that kept him. Maybe he had met someone, someone who would not meet father's approval. Her brow furrowed in concentration. Whatever it was, she would be sure to find out. She left her cozy chair in the library and sought out her half brother.

Making as little noise as possible Desdemonna pushed open the door to Nyx's private study. Sticking her head in, she cleared her throat, "Ahem...Busy my brother?"

As she had suspected Nyx was seated behind his enormous desk, his head bent over some parchment. Nyx moved quickly, concealing the page he was writing on with another bit of parchment. "Don't I look busy Des?"

She sighed, "I suppose..."

Straightening he demanded, "What do you want dear sister? Something I can help you with?"

Curiosity had piqued her interest and she tentatively stepped into the room. "Just wondering what your plans might be for this evening? Would you be up for a bit of sport? Father had some new targets added to the archery range..."

His silver eyes met hers, "I'm afraid not. I have urgent business with some members of the trade council. I won't be home until late."

"Oh. That's too bad I was hoping that you might help me with my aim..."

He frowned, "Perhaps tomorrow."

She ducked out of the room closing the door behind her and replied, "Yes, perhaps."

Nyx shifted his gaze back to the parchment on the desk. Under one hand was the carefully handwritten invitation to the masquerade ball that he had attended only a few days before. Beside it, was a letter he had begun to compose. He was carefully to perfectly duplicate the handwriting on the invitation.

Jareth,
We have to talk

Desdemonna waited patiently behind the old suit of armor on display in the great hall. Obscured by the heavy velvet drapes, she waited, unseen. When Nyx finally left the manor, Desdemonna stealthily followed.


* * *


The white owl swooped silently into the barn. Landing high in the rafters, he surveyed the scene below him. A lone lantern was burning, keeping its silent vigil over the girl sleeping in the hayloft. On a stool at her feet the dwarf was slumped in sleep, snoring loudly. No doubt Hoggle had refused to leave her alone and had set about keeping watch over the slumbering girl, though by the looks of it his efforts had proven futile. Below the girl, Tempest was dozing in his stall.

Slowly the owl's head turned, it's black expressionless eyes fixed on the sleeping girl. In one fluid motion the bird leapt from it's perch, flapping its downy wings. Soundlessly the change occurred, and it was the Goblin King rather than a white barn owl that crouched beside the girl.

She was curled up beneath a heavy blanket atop a cushion of hay. Her head was turned to the side, her face was pale in the lantern light and her silky dark hair spilled about her. She looked serene and peaceful while she slept, possessing an almost childlike beauty. Her pink lips were frozen in a little pout, and upon closer inspection, he noticed that her pink tinged cheeks were tearstained.

So, she had been crying before she feel asleep. Of course he knew she would eventually break down, but seeing the evidence of her misery with his own eyes affected him. There was an inescapable unpleasant stab of remorse at the sight. The pain of it was so moving that he actually closed his eyes against it.

Tenderly he brushed a stray piece of hair from her forehead. The alicorn was the only conscious witness as he raggedly whispered, "I'm sorry. I...don't deserve you."


* * *


After having spotted Nyx entering the black forest, Desdemonna tracked him through the woods. He moved quickly but she was able to keep up at a distance. He had been in his bird form and to her displeasure she had been led to a place she didn't want to be.

She had heard tales of the ancient sacred circle when she had been just a child and the idea of it still scared her. Now at the edge of that dreaded place, she heard voices whispering through the darkness, reverberating off the skeletal trees. As she drew closer to the noises, it became apparent that not one, but many, were moving through the brush to take their places at the perimeter of the circle.

Her trembling sparrow form hid in a dense fir tree, well out of sight, watching silently as many black clad figures emerged from the trees. It was a macabre gathering and she shivered at the eerie sight.

Atop the ancient stone circle the black clad figures fell in line at the perimeter, falling to their knees, they honored their leader. He stood tall and imposing, alone, in the dead center of the circle. Slowly he turned to regard each of them, his unseen eyes hidden beneath the dark cowl as he scanned his minions.

With a communal hiss they beseeched him, "We have all come. What is your bidding master?"

From the cover of her hiding place Desdemona watched them gather. She heard the hiss of voices but she couldn't decipher the words. She was too far to read their lips, though even if she were closer it wouldn't have done much good in identifying them. Their black hoods concealed their features, shrouding them in anonymity.

They were all clad in identical garments, black robes and cowls, seemingly equals, save for the lone one standing in the middle. Something was different about him aside from the fact that he was standing in the center. Upon a cursory inspection, she spotted the talisman. She was too far away to see the silver medallion in detail, but it didn't matter, she saw it in her mind's eye.

The silver skull, holding a bony finger to the mouth. Instead of eyes, were glittering blood-red stones. Behind the skull, a human female and the rearing alicorn, engulfed in flames.

The ancient symbol of the Shadow Horde.

A symbol far older than any of her living kin, a symbol that could be mistaken for no other, a symbol that would remain burned into the minds of her race for ages to come. All races and cultures had their symbols, and most of them had at least one that inspired dread.

Desdemonna instinctively recoiled from the horde's symbol, as to her it seemed the embodiment of evil. A symbol of Fae supremacy, of treachery, a symbol that represented the rape, enslavement, murder, and the ultimate extinction of the human race. With the power of Alicorn blood, it was the Horde's agenda to breed humans out of existence.

The figure was speaking now, and she strained to hear his words. "Your patience and servitude is about to be rewarded."

Horror and sickening disbelief washed over her now, and it was not from the symbol, and not from the fact that she was actually witnessing a very real and active Horde meeting, but from the realization that despite the outward anonymity of the figure before her, she knew exactly who their leader was.

Fire and Rain...It can't be. But it was.

Nyx.

There was no doubt in her mind. His stature, his mannerisms, the cadence of his voice...It was him. Though she had constantly been at odds with her half-brother, she could scarcely believe he could be a part of something so wretched. It was a testament to the fact that she truly didn't know him. At that moment the thought struck her that he couldn't have been more of a stranger to her.

She became frantic at the discovery, and the urge to flee was overwhelming. Father, she thought, father will know what to do. The thought sickened her. Her gentle sweet father would be crushed, but he was wise beyond his years, perhaps he could make sense of all this madness. She longed to slip away and run, but her curiosity held her there. She had to at least find out what was happening. She inched closer, bit by bit, until she could just barely discern the words. She strained to hear her brother's voice.

"The time has come for action. Admittance aboveground is just at our fingertips. By this time tomorrow the Goblin Kingdom, the key to aboveground access, will be ours."

"But what of Jareth...and the labyrinth?"

"Forget about the labyrinth, without Jareth and his power, the labyrinth cannot hinder us."

"Yes, but how? Jareth defends his kingdom from the center of the labyrinth, how will we reach him? With him inside we have no chance of navigating through the maze or of breeching the castle walls."

"Indeed, but Jareth won't be within the castle or the labyrinth when we take him."

A stunned hush fell over the horde and Desdemonna held her breath and listened to hear what her brother was planning.

* * *

Later in the Goblin Kingdom...

The Sun had barely risen over the labyrinth, yet the goblin king was already out of bed. He had wasted no time in bathing and dressing himself. In no mood to eat breakfast, he stormed out of his room and down the castle hall. He moved purposefully through the castle, ignoring the goblins that he passed, for his mind was on other things.

Despite the fact that he had barely slept, he was more anxious than tired. It had been impossible to turn off his mind long enough to get any quality sleep, but that hardly mattered to him at the moment. He couldn't seem to get his mind around one thing.

He had made a grievous error.

For so long he had been convinced that hurting Sarah was the solution, but now that the act was done, he realized he'd solved nothing. The longing was still there, in fact, it hurt worse than before. Though, as wretched as the pain was, it was nothing in comparison to the nagging realization that he had no idea how to reconcile the situation...if it even was reconcilable.

Sarah wasn't likely to speak to him anytime soon, never mind understand or forgive what he had done.

Jareth kept walking, he didn't really have a destination in mind, but the constant walking at least kept him from going mad. Not surprisingly, he ended up in his study. It was a much more productive place for thinking than the throne room, which was usually overrun with goblins.

Jareth flopped dramatically into his chair and sighed wearily, resting his head on the high back of the chair. His mind wandered for what seemed like the millionth time, "What are you doing..."

He was no closer to an answer than he was the night before. Exasperated with thinking he let his head fall into his hands, and that's when he noticed the neatly folded letter on his desk.

A single word scratched in black ink stared up at him.

Jareth.

The writing was hauntingly familiar. About a thousand different emotions swelled in him as he snatched up the letter. He couldn't open it fast enough. Giving the handwriting a cursory glance, there was no doubt who had written it.

Jareth,
We need to talk. I don't want things to end this way. Meet me by the waterfall. I'll be waiting.
Sarah

He was out of the chair before he'd even finished reading the letter. He didn't know if his relationship with her was salvageable, but the letter sparked a glimmer of hope within him. She was willing to talk and that was a start. Determined, he set off, the thought echoing in his mind. I'll get her back...


* * *


Desdemonna crouched behind a large fir tree as she struggled to catch her breath. She had trailed the Shadow Horde all night and she was exhausted from trying to keep up and lack of sleep. She had opted to track them from higher ground, which afforded her a better view but also made for a more difficult journey. She had kept out of sight as the horde moved into the ravine below.

She stopped to rest as their caravan halted in the breathtaking valley below. They assumed their positions, hiding behind various rock formations that flanked a waterfall. It appeared as though they were waiting for something or someone.

What a morbid progression it had been, all of them clad head to toe in their imposing black robes, none of them uttering so much as a single word. Though the main function of their macabre garb was to protect the wearer's identity, she reasoned that the vestments had other purposes. It seemed their robes prevented other Fae from sensing their presence, as she had not been able to sense them with her power as she tracked them. Finally it was the sinister appearance it gave them, like intimidating shadows they moved, certain to strike fear into the hearts of all that glimpsed them. It reminded her of the procession before a funeral or execution, but what was even more disturbing was the person-sized crow's cage that they carried, dangling from an enormous pike.

Fearful of what would unfold before her eyes, she held her breath and waited. And then as if on cue, she spotted him. A lone lithe figure with wild platinum hair, descending the grassy hill that led down to the waterfall. He had seemed to appear from nowhere, but that was not surprising, as powerful Fae were quite adept at apparating.

Jareth saw no sign of Sarah as he approached, but as he got closer he thought he heard muffled sobs coming from behind a rock formation flanking the waterfall. Concern was evident in his voice as rushed over, "Sarah?"

The ambush was sudden, occurring just as Desdemonna had realized the danger. There had been no time to call out and warn him. Not that it would have helped, for in doing so, she also would have endangered herself.

It almost seemed to happen in slow motion, and it was a terrible thing to witness, especially knowing she could do nothing to stop it, for the horde far outnumbered her and the goblin king.

The moment Jareth had neared the rocks, scores of dark figures descended upon him from all sides. Some materialized out of thin air. There was little time for Jareth to react, especially against so many. She hadn't sensed them and she guessed Jareth hadn't either because he had walked right into their trap.

Immediately four of the figures seized him, and despite his wild struggling, they managed to hold him. Roughly they forced his hands behind his back, entwining them with enchanted rope, so he was not able to defend himself by producing a crystal and using magic. Jareth strained to see those who were restraining him, but all he saw were their sinister grimaces, as their faces were hidden beneath their dark cowls.

Another approached him from the front and Jareth immediately noticed the medallion hanging around his neck. Cold dread washed over him.

The Shadow Horde.

Strangely, his first thought was not fear for his own life, but concern for Sarah. Surely without him to protect her, an awful fate would await her should she fall into their hands. If they haven't already taken her.

Icy fear gripped him at the thought, and he struggled harder, but to no avail. The grim frown of the leader twisted into a smug smirk. His silken voice was vaguely familiar as he hissed, "Ah Jareth, I've waited a long time for this."

The smirk vanished as the leader's fist smashed into Jareth's jaw. There was no time for Jareth to process the pain before the next devastating blow hit him in the gut, doubling him over. His captors hauled him back up so the leader could continue his merciless beating. When the leader was satisfied he indicated for the others to come forward. They took turns beating him.

Desdemonna winced at every blow, but there was still nothing she could do. Helpless to intervene, she watched on as the goblin king fought to remain conscious as he took the beating of his life. She feared they would beat him to death, but suddenly with one signal from Nyx, they stopped.

They lowered the pike and shoved him into the crow's cage. He collapsed as they let go of him. With a groan the rusty door swung shut, locking him inside. He tried to get to his knees, but he didn't have the strength. The exertion of trying to get up was too much and he fell back to the rusty grate floor and lost consciousness.

The leader motioned for them to assemble and barked, "We have him, now back to the sacred circle where we shall begin the rite and finish this..." Ominously he finished, " ...and then the Goblin Kingdom and the world aboveground shall be ours."

Desdemonna looked on in horror as they heaved the pike upright, lifting the crow's cage into the air. Once they had turned their backs on her and were a safe distance away she wasted no time and took to the air. She had to make it to the Goblin Kingdom before they did, and hopefully before they finished off Jareth. She had to warn Sargonne and the goblins.


* * *


Sarah sluggishly dragged herself from her hay bed and washed her face and hands in the icy water from the stable pump. After drying herself off she dressed in her own aboveground clothes, pulled her messy hair back into a tight ponytail, and set about tending to Tempest's breakfast. She dumped his grain into his trough and insisted, "Hoggle, I already told you I don't want to talk about it."

The dwarf stammered, "I'm sorry missy, I thought maybe it would make you feel better to get it off your chest. I shoulda known this might happen. I knew that rat was up to something, I just didn't know what. I still don't know what. None of this makes any sense to me. I have a bad feelin', I tell ya, somethin' just ain't right."

Stomping out of the stall she argued, "Don't you think I know that Hoggle! I've spent the whole night trying to figure out what went wrong! Everything was fine one minute, and the next thing I know, I'm being treated worse than a slave."

Hoggle held up his hands, "I know missy, horrible what he did...but what'd ya expect Jareth to do? He's a rat, I'd expect you to understand that better than anyone."

She rolled her eyes "I know, but I thought things would be different this time..."

Hoggle shrugged, "Well, I dunno, maybe they were for a time. You never can tell what that rat is thinking. Strange though, that you don't know what set him off. I don't know, maybe there's more to it. Could be a misunderstandin' I suppose. Maybe after he cools off, you two will sort it out."

Sarah shook her head, "No, Hoggle, he could cool off for a century and it wouldn't make one bit of difference. It's me that's bugging him."

The dwarf gave her a sympathetic look and replied, "You don't know that." He shook his head and growled under his breath, "Arrrowww, I can't believe I'm defending him...You know how he is, probably something else got him all riled. Maybe he's already sorry. Maybe you could give him a chance to explain."

"A chance to explain?!" She was yelling now, "Are you out of your mind Hoggle? It was downright rotten the way he treated me!"

"I know it was. I just hate to see you upset missy. You're my friend and I hate that I can't fix this, but I'm afraid the only way out is to learn the truth, and Jareth is the only one that can give you that. You'll have to face him sooner or later."

"Ah...Hem," A low gentle voice interrupted.

Sarah turned her head to see the Alicorn poke his head out of his stall, "I don't mean to interrupt Sarah, but Haggle has a point. Perhaps there is some misunderstanding..."

Incredulously the dwarf accused, "You can talk?!? Rowwrrr It's Hoggle..."

The alicorn merely ignored him, "If you don't mind me sayin' it Sarah, I've known the King for a long time, and rarely does he act without good reason. Something set him off for him to be acting that defensively. I know he's a bit frosty on the outside, but he's got a good heart, that I know. With him, things aren't always what they seem, you can't take anything he does for granted."

Sarah looked intently at Tempest thinking that wouldn't be the first time she heard that piece of advice here. Maybe there was some truth to what the alicorn said, but it still didn't excuse Jareth's behavior.

She glanced at Hoggle, "Well misunderstanding or not, Hoggle's right. I will have to face him, and when I do I'm getting to the bottom of this. He may be a King, but he doesn't own me. I'm done taking anymore of his crap. If he doesn't like it, than that's too bad...I'll make him so miserable that he'll have no choice but to send me home. I will confront him, and he will have one chance to explain himself, but I'm not going up there today. Right now I don't want to be anywhere near him. Going in there and screaming at him is not going to solve anything, and right now that's all I want to do. I need time to cool off and clear my head before I talk to him."

The alicorn nodded "That's a wise decision. Think it over for a few days, and then you'll work it out. He probably already regrets the way he treated you. He cares for you Sarah, that I know, no matter what he said."

"It's hard for me to believe that, but thanks for trying to cheer me up."

Later...

Sarah was reclining on a bail of hay, thinking of all that had happened when she heard the commotion outside. Goblin voices were shouting her name.
"Sarah! Sarah!"

She rushed to the door of the stable to see a familiar figure flanked by two goblins running towards her full force.

Sarah's eyes widened in surprise, "Des...Desdemonna?"

The Fae youth was dirty, her hair spilling out of it's usual pinned style and she noticed immediately that her dress was torn in several places. Wild eyed and out of breath the Fae skidded to a halt in front of Sarah, "Where is Sargonne? I must speak with him right away."

Uneasiness crept over Sarah as she stammered, "Sargonne is...not available...um this isn't a very good time for..."

Frantically the girl pleaded, "I must speak with your brother...it's a matter of life or death, and it concerns him..." she bent to catch her breath, "and you as well..."

Sarah shook her head, "I'm not sure where he is, but maybe we'd better go to the Goblin King..."

Desdemonna took a deep breath and gushed, "That's what I'm trying to tell you! Jareth has been taken by the Shadow Horde!"

Sarah's face drained of all color, "What do you mean taken?"

"Captured. They will kill him, I'm sure of it. They took him to their sacred circle, they have probably already started the rite to execute him."


Sarah suddenly felt light headed and she grabbed the girl by the shoulders, "What?!"

"They have him. They took him Northward and headed to the ancient stone circle, their place of ritual sacrifice. I saw it happen...I have to warn Sargonne. The two of you have to get out of here before they finish him and come. With Jareth out of the way nothing will stop them from taking the Goblin City. You have to leave...now please where is Sargonne?"

Sarah was no longer listening. Her fingers tightened on the girl's arms as she frantically demanded, "Where exactly is this stone circle?"

"The black forest, Northwest of here...now where's..."

Sarah held up a hand to silence her as Tempest's voice brayed in her mind "I know that place. I can get us there."

Sarah pulled the girl closer and declared urgently, "I am Sargonne, Sargonne is me...Sarah. Jareth dressed me as his page boy."

"What? But...why?"

Sarah shook her head as she rushed into the armory and tack area with Desdemonna on her heels, "I know...I know...It was a rotten thing to deceive you like that...but there's no time to explain. I have to try and stop them...I have to go after Jareth."

The shocked expression on her face deepened, "Are you insane? You are human...have you any idea what they'll do to you? It's suicide!"

Sarah ground out, "It doesn't matter! I have to go."

Sarah whirled around and shouted at Hoggle who was watching the whole scene with a gaping mouth, "Hoggle, assemble the Goblin army, tell them Jareth has been captured and he needs them. I want them hot on my heels in case something happens to me."

Hoggle nodded frantically, "I'll lead them Sarah, I'll be right behind you." In a flash the dwarf was off running, taking the two goblins who had escorted Desdemonna with him.

She glanced at the large black Alicorn in the stall nearest her and announced, "Tempest, get ready...we are going for a ride."

With that Sarah began donning the first pieces of armor she could get her hands on. There must have been something familiar in her voice that struck a cord in the young Fae because without another word she began helping Sarah dress and arm herself.

As Sarah buckled the sword scabbard onto her belt she remarked, "I am sorry for what I did to you...it wasn't my intention to hurt anyone. I know that sorry probably doesn't cut it...but if I make it out of this alive, I will explain everything and I'll do my best to make up for the injury I caused you."

Desdemonna selected a metal helmet and helped Sarah put it on, "You are a noble and brave woman Sarah..."

Sarah looked out from behind the jagged metal and mumbled, "Brave or incredibly stupid?"

Desdemonna handed her a small dagger that went on the strap around her calf, "I would ride with you, but I think I'd be of more use if I reached my father and got him to raise the alarm. He's not far from here, so the Northern army won't be far behind you."

Sarah nodded, "Thank you. You've already taken a risk in warning me, I won't forget all you've done."

The young Fae stared at her for a moment and replied, "You really mean to do this...risking your life to bring him back. You must really care for him."

Sarah swallowed hard, blinking back the tears that threatened to surface at the thought of what would happen if she didn't bring him back, "I..."

"I believe you can do this Sarah. You possess a will and spirit seldom seen in the Fae. You are brave and determined..."

Sarah shook her head, "But how can you say that you don't even know me..."

"You solved the labyrinth, that has to count for something. Now go on, you'd better get out of here."

Sarah's gaze drifted over a multitude of swords as Desdemonna added, "You should also know that the leader of the Horde is my half brother Nyx. He had beaten Jareth rather severely right before I fled...I believe the two of you have been acquainted and if I'm not mistaken...you already owe him one."

Anger flared within her. She had disliked Nyx immensely the first time she met him, but now, well there were no words to describe the amount of misery she wanted to put him through. Without hesitation Sarah snatched up a rather nasty looking broadsword. It had savage looking spikes adorning the handle, and it was still dangerously sharp despite the fact that it was rusty. Grinding her teeth together she shoved the sword into her scabbard savoring the sound of metal against metal. Nyx will pay for what he's done. He'll pay if it kills me. Hold on Jareth, I'm coming.