AN: Yes, the end, THE END. Wohooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!! Some twenty seven odd chapters later I've
managed to finally finish the itty bitty Labyrinth story I started some three odd months
before. THANK YOU all SSSOOO much, both for the emails and support and reviews...
Speaking of reviews, this is it... Your last chance to let me know what ya'll thought about
reading this 'little' story. For you return reviewers, I'm eager to get your take on this
chapter and the story as a whole. For all your first timers, welcome, welcome, no need to
jostle. And for you lurkers, step into the light if only long enough to drop me a word or
two! Last chapter, last chance! =) Yes, I am incorrigible, its one of my more endearing
qualities. hehe
I am planning, if I find the time and effort, to go through and edit everything, spit and
polish so to speak, now that the darn thing is out of my head. I tried to tie up most of the
loose ends with this chapter. I don't beliee in complete endings though. ;) I also make no
promises what so ever about a sequel. I'm awful about writing them. We'll see.
And now, on with the show. *bows* Thanks for the ride ya'll, its been fun. PS: I don't
own Labyrinth, or David Bowie. Bummer.
Random question... how do ya'll manage to review stuff so quickly? I usually have a
chapter up for only about fifteen minutes before the first review. Just wondering and standing
back in awed amazement, of course. ;)
********************************* Sacrifices: Epilogue ********************************
"Do you really have to do this?"
Jareth caught Sarah's hands with his own gloved ones. They trembled within his, though not
from weakness. His little Sarah had never been weak. Vulnerable perhaps, tender most
certainly, but never weak. Long, fine fingers traced the vivid scar on her palm while intense,
passion ridden eyes studied her reaction.
Sarah hissed at his touch and he felt her lean towards him, felt her almost submit to his
allure, to the darkness. Felt her almost admit just how much she wanted to crawl under silken
sheets and hold his heated body close as dusk stole the sun's warmth and let cold creep in with
the shadows.
Almost.
But she didn't.
Sarah pulled away, face regretful but set in stubborn lines. Her hands, made steady by sheer
force of will, clenched and unclenched at her sides. She met his eyes bravely enough.
"I have to do this Jareth."
He growled, the sound feral and somehow primitive, possessive. The Goblin King stepped forward
and cradled the human's beautiful face, bringing it close to his. Thumbs caressed her
pronounced cheek bones as his pale, other worldly eyes held her amber touched gaze.
Lips, hungry, undeniable, sought and found her smooth, perfect ones. The kiss was beautiful
and painful at the same time, the perfect physical symbol for a love that was neither a product
of the darkness, or the light, but some wonderful mixture of the two. It deepened, became more
intimate at a moment's notice as the anguished mood shifted abruptly. Shifted to candle light
and bubble baths and dew ridden grass that would leave stains on hastily discarded garments.
The Goblin King pulled back enough for breath and to whisper his enunciated reply. "No. You.
Don't."
Anger flared between the two lovers. Sarah twisted out of Jareth's grasp and stood, panting
slightly, several feet out of reach, face flushed with desire and a heady mix of quiet, debated
fury. The scarred hand was clutched tightly to her heaving breast as she watched her King
warily.
Jareth studied her for a heart beat and, frustrated by her continued refusal, strode forward
and captured the errant hand. Jaw set, the Goblin King held the offending palm up.
"I can erase this Sarah, both the physical and emotional reminders. I can make your forget
Melanie and Devon as they have forgotten you. I can rid you of this pain... Just let me!"
Sarah wrenched herself away this time, eyes blazing, deadly.
"Don't you dare Jareth."
The irate Goblin King's second growl held a touch more anger as he glided forward, matching
Sarah's every retreating step with an advancing one as they traveled the length of his, their,
bedroom, in the course of the argument. "Why?" he demanded. "Why do you insist on clinging to
the past?"
Sarah, pushed to her breaking point, took a stand, fists on hips, as she glared at her almost
husband. Husband after she set this one thing right, after she mended what her sacrifice had
torn, if only in her own mind. Her quiet answer could have frozen hell.
"Because if I love you Jareth I will love with all that I am, and all who I have become. And
in my past I loved Devon and I called the human girl named Melanie daughter. And perhaps they
don't remember me; I don't doubt your magic. But I do remember.
"I remember birthday parties and anniversaries and the day Devon asked me to be his wife. And
you will not take that from me. You will not treat me that carelessly, with such
thoughtlessness. They are my past Jareth, don't fear them, but I have to make peace with them
to move on with the future, our future." She sighed once and went to the complex man she swore
to love. A man who could be such a child sometimes. Who could seem so lonely and afraid at the
oddest times.
Sarah embraced a startled Goblin King, held his stiff, though not defiant body, to hers.
Allowed herself, and him, to bask in the glow of newly declared love. She reached on her tip
toes to brush her full lips across his creased brow before continuing, voice infinitely softer,
gentler.
"Don't be jealous Jareth. Please, this is something I have to do. Something I will do."
And she since she was more then his love, was his partner, equal, and perhaps, future Queen, he
bowed to her wishes. Gracelessly, but bowed none the less.
"Very well Sarah. Call if you need me."
And then he was gone.
******************************************************************************************
Sarah swallowed as she regarded the empty bedroom she and Devon had once shared. The bed was,
surprisingly enough, made, and little was changed, save the complete and utter absence of
everything that had been hers.
Halting steps led her slowly to the vanity where she lightly traced the mahogany finish with
trembling fingers that stilled after a moment to rest on a silver frame. She picked it up and
studied the heart shaped thing, closed amber eyes to ward off the slight pang that followed the
image... It was a picture of Devon, Devon and a woman that Sarah didn't know, and never would.
Devon was smiling that open, honest smile of his, happy as he had only been with Sarah. The
woman in his arms was blonde with gray eyes that made her face dance, despite the slightly shyer
smile on her delicate features.
Sarah put the frame carefully down, as if it was fragile, and turned, traitorous feet leading
her into the master bath. She stopped inside the bathroom, took a deep breath, and went to the
double vanity. Devon's sink held familiar utilities, a shaving kit, a razor dull enough to
always leave a five o clock shadow behind.
Her own sink was made strange by the makeup and lotions and perfumes that she had never seen,
nor worn. Shades of lipstick too dark for Sarah to ever consider, eye shadow too pale for her
to ever pull off. Scents too floral, or fruity... and amid the space left bare between the two
sinks, was Sarah's ring.
It had collected dust in the time Sarah had been Underground, but the engagement ring, the
promise made, and broken, still glinted dully in the florescent bathroom lighting.
A weaker woman would have cried. She would have herself, fifteen years ago, ten, five, one
even, before she had faced the Sidhe Court, before she had won her place as equal to the Goblin
King. The last thought sobered her, grounded the woman faced with the reality of the
destruction of all she had loved and held dear.
Sarah did not cry, even if her eyes were bright with unshed tears.
She was strong, not numb.
She regarded the small circle of metal for a long moment, an object whose apparent existence
had been forgotten along with Sarah herself. She wondered for a moment if Jareth had left it
as a symbol, an irony, as some righteous statement, or grand movement, that she would never,
could never, quite grasp or comprehend. Or perhaps his magic was not as infallible,
impenetrable, perfect, as he, and she herself, wanted to believe.
Perhaps it had simply been overlooked.
Perhaps not.
It didn't really matter, in the end.
Sarah reached out, yearning, and cradled the ring in hands that shook more then she would have
liked. It warmed against her skin as the diamond sparkled, clear perfection. A small, mournful
smile graced Sarah's own lips as she raised the ring and kissed it, acknowledging its past, and
its future denied.
She slipped it on, not on her ring finger for that was for another ring, but on the middle
finger. For remembrance, for, for nothing more than a gentle, beautiful reminder of sacrifices
made, and loved ones both saved and freed. Of paths chosen and roads, well traveled or not,
taken.
******************************************************************************************
Her heavy tread brought her out of a bedroom she no longer shared, through suspiciously silent
halls, and into the living room. Sarah's breath caught in her throat.
Devon, Melanie, and a woman whose name Sarah would never know, were sleeping together on the
couch, the TV, oblivious, on, Nick at Nite blaring as Lucy and Ricky argued at each other in
ribald tones of anger barely hiding affection and love. Devon's long legs were propped up on
the coffee table, one arm cradling a little girl who had grown so much in Sarah's absence, the
other embracing the blonde from the picture who slept, curled up against her boyfriend's side.
Sarah's quiet steps took her closer.
Close enough to see the simple band of gold that graced the stranger's ring finger; close
enough to see its answering promise on Devon's own hand. Devon's unscarred hands.
Sarah wiped suddenly angry tears away furiously, quickly. She wondered for a moment if Toby
had forgotten his beloved sister with such ease and knew, knew, hated, and accepted that he
had.
She stared at the woman, the intruder, and sighed. The sleeping woman was beautiful, even
prettier then she had seemed in the lifeless picture. She was small, petite even, with round
features and hair that could rival sunlight. She was everything that Sarah was not and yet,
she wasn't Sarah's replacement.
The thought reassured her. She half feared that, with her absence, that some hole, some need,
would be left unfulfilled. But somehow, staring at the woman in his arms, tenderly held, most
certainly dearly loved, Sarah knew that Devon had found his match. Had found someone who didn't
need to be shielded from the light.
The knowledge of that hurt, but not as much as she had feared it might. Not as much as it
should, had her decision of loving Jareth been wrong.
Sarah turned and quietly turned off the TV. When she looked back Melanie was awake and staring
at her in the almost dark room. Her almost daughter's eyes were large. This time not even
Sarah's strength could hold back her tears.
She stood, shaking, before them all, Devon and the woman still sleeping, as Melanie's silent
regard pierced the barriers Sarah thought unbreakable. Sarah wilted under the soft fierceness
in the toddler's open gaze.
Melanie held out one small, perfect, pale hand, reaching up to the woman she shouldn't remember
with such pain in her young, innocent eyes. Sarah's trembling fingers brushed the warmth of
the child's palm as Melanie stared at her and said, quite clearly, "Mama."
Sarah sank to her knees before the little girl with curls in her hair and pressed the tiny hand
to a wet cheek. "No Baby," she managed to whisper hoarsely through a thick throat. But Melanie
would not be gainsaid.
"Mama," she repeated insistently.
Sarah sighed and rose, leaning forward to kiss the girl on her crinkled brow. She brushed back
a few errant strands from the heart shaped child face and didn't have the heart to deny the
title. She bit her lip before agreeing softly.
"Mama," Sarah echoed. Her amber glance darted to the sleeping woman's face as she thought
rapidly. One hand pantomimed at her heart as Melanie watched intensely. "Mama." Sarah waited
as the little girl nodded vigorously before pointing at the sleeping woman. "Mama," Sarah
repeated, firmly.
A toddler's somber gaze settled and studied Sarah for a heart beat before turning its serious
attention to the woman who slept in Melanie's father's arms. The girl looked back to Sarah and
a smile, radiant, pure, broke through the clouds of sorrow on the not quite baby's gentle face.
"Mama," Melanie said softly, tasting the word as she directed it to the golden haired beauty
who had already claimed all that Sarah had clung to so dearly. All that she had sacrificed to
make sure that the child who sat before her would live to fulfill the promise of beauty and
light and happiness in her youthful features.
"Two mothers," Sarah whispered, "two who love you with all they are. Who will always love
you."
The wise, wise child nodded once and turned, snuggling back into her father's arms, suddenly
sleepy. A crooked smile graced Sarah's full lips.
"Love you," she called. A muffled reply and affirmation nearly stopped her heart with its
mixture of joy and bitter, bitter pain. But the pain receded after a moment and all Sarah knew
was contentment, a measure of peace, and that warm, warm flush of joy.
She stepped back, arms hugging her body as she studied the scene before her. "Jareth," she
called gently into the expectant, heavy air around her, "I'm ready to come home, for good."
******************************************************************************************
And so he brought her home, to the Underground. Home to be reunited with friends both old,
such as a pardoned Hoggle, Ludo, and brave, foolish fox, and new, like an emerald eyed Dragon
Queen, Prince, and talkative maid... Home to dangers untold and hardships unnumbered. For
Darculo still lurked, waiting for a chance to destroy another almost daughter who bore the
name of Melani and Sarah, for all that she herself had grown, was not quite ready to be called
Goblin Queen.
Home to a man who had stolen her brother, her death, and her heart. Home to a man who was as
complex as the land he ruled. Home to a man who had learned to love, if only for her. Home to
a man who would defy his people to keep her by his side. Home to Jareth, home to the Goblin
King, her King. Home to a world of gray but, gray had never seemed so beautiful, so hopeful,
so alive.
And Sarah, immortal, beloved, had never been so proud, so fulfilled, by her sacrifices.
******************************************************************************************
"Jareth, love?" she asked as he broke their heated kiss. Her hair, sable strands of living
silk, trailed up his arms.
"Yes?" he murmured as hands roamed hungrily. Sarah pulled back and glowered.
"Why does my hair always respond to you so?"
He chuckled, mercenary, and smiled, feral, wolfish. "Why little Sarah, I would think that its
obvious by now. We're made for each other, and its simply responding to that desire, that
emotion, the need to find completeness in me."
Sarah snorted delicately. "You're making that up." He leaned forward and nipped her earlobe.
"I don't lie Sarah, not to you."
She shivered in her arms before laughing softly. He gazed at her, dangerous gaze subdued into
askance. "It would have made things a hell of a lot simpler if you had told me that a long
time ago."
Jareth shrugged, as if in embarrassment, before replying gallantly, roguishly, enough. "But
Sarah," he replied as he moved to reclaim the lips that had pledged her loyalty and love to
him, "what would be the fun of that?"
Darkness, light, and intricate, complicated, beautiful gray indeed.
managed to finally finish the itty bitty Labyrinth story I started some three odd months
before. THANK YOU all SSSOOO much, both for the emails and support and reviews...
Speaking of reviews, this is it... Your last chance to let me know what ya'll thought about
reading this 'little' story. For you return reviewers, I'm eager to get your take on this
chapter and the story as a whole. For all your first timers, welcome, welcome, no need to
jostle. And for you lurkers, step into the light if only long enough to drop me a word or
two! Last chapter, last chance! =) Yes, I am incorrigible, its one of my more endearing
qualities. hehe
I am planning, if I find the time and effort, to go through and edit everything, spit and
polish so to speak, now that the darn thing is out of my head. I tried to tie up most of the
loose ends with this chapter. I don't beliee in complete endings though. ;) I also make no
promises what so ever about a sequel. I'm awful about writing them. We'll see.
And now, on with the show. *bows* Thanks for the ride ya'll, its been fun. PS: I don't
own Labyrinth, or David Bowie. Bummer.
Random question... how do ya'll manage to review stuff so quickly? I usually have a
chapter up for only about fifteen minutes before the first review. Just wondering and standing
back in awed amazement, of course. ;)
********************************* Sacrifices: Epilogue ********************************
"Do you really have to do this?"
Jareth caught Sarah's hands with his own gloved ones. They trembled within his, though not
from weakness. His little Sarah had never been weak. Vulnerable perhaps, tender most
certainly, but never weak. Long, fine fingers traced the vivid scar on her palm while intense,
passion ridden eyes studied her reaction.
Sarah hissed at his touch and he felt her lean towards him, felt her almost submit to his
allure, to the darkness. Felt her almost admit just how much she wanted to crawl under silken
sheets and hold his heated body close as dusk stole the sun's warmth and let cold creep in with
the shadows.
Almost.
But she didn't.
Sarah pulled away, face regretful but set in stubborn lines. Her hands, made steady by sheer
force of will, clenched and unclenched at her sides. She met his eyes bravely enough.
"I have to do this Jareth."
He growled, the sound feral and somehow primitive, possessive. The Goblin King stepped forward
and cradled the human's beautiful face, bringing it close to his. Thumbs caressed her
pronounced cheek bones as his pale, other worldly eyes held her amber touched gaze.
Lips, hungry, undeniable, sought and found her smooth, perfect ones. The kiss was beautiful
and painful at the same time, the perfect physical symbol for a love that was neither a product
of the darkness, or the light, but some wonderful mixture of the two. It deepened, became more
intimate at a moment's notice as the anguished mood shifted abruptly. Shifted to candle light
and bubble baths and dew ridden grass that would leave stains on hastily discarded garments.
The Goblin King pulled back enough for breath and to whisper his enunciated reply. "No. You.
Don't."
Anger flared between the two lovers. Sarah twisted out of Jareth's grasp and stood, panting
slightly, several feet out of reach, face flushed with desire and a heady mix of quiet, debated
fury. The scarred hand was clutched tightly to her heaving breast as she watched her King
warily.
Jareth studied her for a heart beat and, frustrated by her continued refusal, strode forward
and captured the errant hand. Jaw set, the Goblin King held the offending palm up.
"I can erase this Sarah, both the physical and emotional reminders. I can make your forget
Melanie and Devon as they have forgotten you. I can rid you of this pain... Just let me!"
Sarah wrenched herself away this time, eyes blazing, deadly.
"Don't you dare Jareth."
The irate Goblin King's second growl held a touch more anger as he glided forward, matching
Sarah's every retreating step with an advancing one as they traveled the length of his, their,
bedroom, in the course of the argument. "Why?" he demanded. "Why do you insist on clinging to
the past?"
Sarah, pushed to her breaking point, took a stand, fists on hips, as she glared at her almost
husband. Husband after she set this one thing right, after she mended what her sacrifice had
torn, if only in her own mind. Her quiet answer could have frozen hell.
"Because if I love you Jareth I will love with all that I am, and all who I have become. And
in my past I loved Devon and I called the human girl named Melanie daughter. And perhaps they
don't remember me; I don't doubt your magic. But I do remember.
"I remember birthday parties and anniversaries and the day Devon asked me to be his wife. And
you will not take that from me. You will not treat me that carelessly, with such
thoughtlessness. They are my past Jareth, don't fear them, but I have to make peace with them
to move on with the future, our future." She sighed once and went to the complex man she swore
to love. A man who could be such a child sometimes. Who could seem so lonely and afraid at the
oddest times.
Sarah embraced a startled Goblin King, held his stiff, though not defiant body, to hers.
Allowed herself, and him, to bask in the glow of newly declared love. She reached on her tip
toes to brush her full lips across his creased brow before continuing, voice infinitely softer,
gentler.
"Don't be jealous Jareth. Please, this is something I have to do. Something I will do."
And she since she was more then his love, was his partner, equal, and perhaps, future Queen, he
bowed to her wishes. Gracelessly, but bowed none the less.
"Very well Sarah. Call if you need me."
And then he was gone.
******************************************************************************************
Sarah swallowed as she regarded the empty bedroom she and Devon had once shared. The bed was,
surprisingly enough, made, and little was changed, save the complete and utter absence of
everything that had been hers.
Halting steps led her slowly to the vanity where she lightly traced the mahogany finish with
trembling fingers that stilled after a moment to rest on a silver frame. She picked it up and
studied the heart shaped thing, closed amber eyes to ward off the slight pang that followed the
image... It was a picture of Devon, Devon and a woman that Sarah didn't know, and never would.
Devon was smiling that open, honest smile of his, happy as he had only been with Sarah. The
woman in his arms was blonde with gray eyes that made her face dance, despite the slightly shyer
smile on her delicate features.
Sarah put the frame carefully down, as if it was fragile, and turned, traitorous feet leading
her into the master bath. She stopped inside the bathroom, took a deep breath, and went to the
double vanity. Devon's sink held familiar utilities, a shaving kit, a razor dull enough to
always leave a five o clock shadow behind.
Her own sink was made strange by the makeup and lotions and perfumes that she had never seen,
nor worn. Shades of lipstick too dark for Sarah to ever consider, eye shadow too pale for her
to ever pull off. Scents too floral, or fruity... and amid the space left bare between the two
sinks, was Sarah's ring.
It had collected dust in the time Sarah had been Underground, but the engagement ring, the
promise made, and broken, still glinted dully in the florescent bathroom lighting.
A weaker woman would have cried. She would have herself, fifteen years ago, ten, five, one
even, before she had faced the Sidhe Court, before she had won her place as equal to the Goblin
King. The last thought sobered her, grounded the woman faced with the reality of the
destruction of all she had loved and held dear.
Sarah did not cry, even if her eyes were bright with unshed tears.
She was strong, not numb.
She regarded the small circle of metal for a long moment, an object whose apparent existence
had been forgotten along with Sarah herself. She wondered for a moment if Jareth had left it
as a symbol, an irony, as some righteous statement, or grand movement, that she would never,
could never, quite grasp or comprehend. Or perhaps his magic was not as infallible,
impenetrable, perfect, as he, and she herself, wanted to believe.
Perhaps it had simply been overlooked.
Perhaps not.
It didn't really matter, in the end.
Sarah reached out, yearning, and cradled the ring in hands that shook more then she would have
liked. It warmed against her skin as the diamond sparkled, clear perfection. A small, mournful
smile graced Sarah's own lips as she raised the ring and kissed it, acknowledging its past, and
its future denied.
She slipped it on, not on her ring finger for that was for another ring, but on the middle
finger. For remembrance, for, for nothing more than a gentle, beautiful reminder of sacrifices
made, and loved ones both saved and freed. Of paths chosen and roads, well traveled or not,
taken.
******************************************************************************************
Her heavy tread brought her out of a bedroom she no longer shared, through suspiciously silent
halls, and into the living room. Sarah's breath caught in her throat.
Devon, Melanie, and a woman whose name Sarah would never know, were sleeping together on the
couch, the TV, oblivious, on, Nick at Nite blaring as Lucy and Ricky argued at each other in
ribald tones of anger barely hiding affection and love. Devon's long legs were propped up on
the coffee table, one arm cradling a little girl who had grown so much in Sarah's absence, the
other embracing the blonde from the picture who slept, curled up against her boyfriend's side.
Sarah's quiet steps took her closer.
Close enough to see the simple band of gold that graced the stranger's ring finger; close
enough to see its answering promise on Devon's own hand. Devon's unscarred hands.
Sarah wiped suddenly angry tears away furiously, quickly. She wondered for a moment if Toby
had forgotten his beloved sister with such ease and knew, knew, hated, and accepted that he
had.
She stared at the woman, the intruder, and sighed. The sleeping woman was beautiful, even
prettier then she had seemed in the lifeless picture. She was small, petite even, with round
features and hair that could rival sunlight. She was everything that Sarah was not and yet,
she wasn't Sarah's replacement.
The thought reassured her. She half feared that, with her absence, that some hole, some need,
would be left unfulfilled. But somehow, staring at the woman in his arms, tenderly held, most
certainly dearly loved, Sarah knew that Devon had found his match. Had found someone who didn't
need to be shielded from the light.
The knowledge of that hurt, but not as much as she had feared it might. Not as much as it
should, had her decision of loving Jareth been wrong.
Sarah turned and quietly turned off the TV. When she looked back Melanie was awake and staring
at her in the almost dark room. Her almost daughter's eyes were large. This time not even
Sarah's strength could hold back her tears.
She stood, shaking, before them all, Devon and the woman still sleeping, as Melanie's silent
regard pierced the barriers Sarah thought unbreakable. Sarah wilted under the soft fierceness
in the toddler's open gaze.
Melanie held out one small, perfect, pale hand, reaching up to the woman she shouldn't remember
with such pain in her young, innocent eyes. Sarah's trembling fingers brushed the warmth of
the child's palm as Melanie stared at her and said, quite clearly, "Mama."
Sarah sank to her knees before the little girl with curls in her hair and pressed the tiny hand
to a wet cheek. "No Baby," she managed to whisper hoarsely through a thick throat. But Melanie
would not be gainsaid.
"Mama," she repeated insistently.
Sarah sighed and rose, leaning forward to kiss the girl on her crinkled brow. She brushed back
a few errant strands from the heart shaped child face and didn't have the heart to deny the
title. She bit her lip before agreeing softly.
"Mama," Sarah echoed. Her amber glance darted to the sleeping woman's face as she thought
rapidly. One hand pantomimed at her heart as Melanie watched intensely. "Mama." Sarah waited
as the little girl nodded vigorously before pointing at the sleeping woman. "Mama," Sarah
repeated, firmly.
A toddler's somber gaze settled and studied Sarah for a heart beat before turning its serious
attention to the woman who slept in Melanie's father's arms. The girl looked back to Sarah and
a smile, radiant, pure, broke through the clouds of sorrow on the not quite baby's gentle face.
"Mama," Melanie said softly, tasting the word as she directed it to the golden haired beauty
who had already claimed all that Sarah had clung to so dearly. All that she had sacrificed to
make sure that the child who sat before her would live to fulfill the promise of beauty and
light and happiness in her youthful features.
"Two mothers," Sarah whispered, "two who love you with all they are. Who will always love
you."
The wise, wise child nodded once and turned, snuggling back into her father's arms, suddenly
sleepy. A crooked smile graced Sarah's full lips.
"Love you," she called. A muffled reply and affirmation nearly stopped her heart with its
mixture of joy and bitter, bitter pain. But the pain receded after a moment and all Sarah knew
was contentment, a measure of peace, and that warm, warm flush of joy.
She stepped back, arms hugging her body as she studied the scene before her. "Jareth," she
called gently into the expectant, heavy air around her, "I'm ready to come home, for good."
******************************************************************************************
And so he brought her home, to the Underground. Home to be reunited with friends both old,
such as a pardoned Hoggle, Ludo, and brave, foolish fox, and new, like an emerald eyed Dragon
Queen, Prince, and talkative maid... Home to dangers untold and hardships unnumbered. For
Darculo still lurked, waiting for a chance to destroy another almost daughter who bore the
name of Melani and Sarah, for all that she herself had grown, was not quite ready to be called
Goblin Queen.
Home to a man who had stolen her brother, her death, and her heart. Home to a man who was as
complex as the land he ruled. Home to a man who had learned to love, if only for her. Home to
a man who would defy his people to keep her by his side. Home to Jareth, home to the Goblin
King, her King. Home to a world of gray but, gray had never seemed so beautiful, so hopeful,
so alive.
And Sarah, immortal, beloved, had never been so proud, so fulfilled, by her sacrifices.
******************************************************************************************
"Jareth, love?" she asked as he broke their heated kiss. Her hair, sable strands of living
silk, trailed up his arms.
"Yes?" he murmured as hands roamed hungrily. Sarah pulled back and glowered.
"Why does my hair always respond to you so?"
He chuckled, mercenary, and smiled, feral, wolfish. "Why little Sarah, I would think that its
obvious by now. We're made for each other, and its simply responding to that desire, that
emotion, the need to find completeness in me."
Sarah snorted delicately. "You're making that up." He leaned forward and nipped her earlobe.
"I don't lie Sarah, not to you."
She shivered in her arms before laughing softly. He gazed at her, dangerous gaze subdued into
askance. "It would have made things a hell of a lot simpler if you had told me that a long
time ago."
Jareth shrugged, as if in embarrassment, before replying gallantly, roguishly, enough. "But
Sarah," he replied as he moved to reclaim the lips that had pledged her loyalty and love to
him, "what would be the fun of that?"
Darkness, light, and intricate, complicated, beautiful gray indeed.