The Loose Ends

***********JGK***************

Leaving without killing Voldemort and his little pet left Jareth feeling unsatisfied, his blood still ringing for vengeance. And he knew exactly where to go. With a deft twist of his gloved hand, a crystal appeared and he vanished from the dungeons only to reappear underground. Not his Underground, but underground, like a mine. He saw rails with carts, axes and buckets, and dim magical lights that barely illuminated the shaft. And somewhere, down in these debts, was a little conniving, backstabbing, treacherous goblin who was soon going to regret ever being born.

***********GG***************

The goblin Gebrattle hid deep in the vaults of Gringotts. He knew the caverns and caves and the twisting paths and prayed that the black darkness would save him from the Goblin King's wrath. Hidden behind the door, Gebrattle had watched in horror as his king tortured the most powerful wizard mankind had ever known. In that moment, Gebrattle understood his folly, and he cursed under his breath. It was not supposed to happen that way. When Bellatrix Lestrange had planned to betray his King, he never thought he would see He Who Must Not Be Named and the cunning Lestrange scorched and screaming on their own dungeon floor. So he fled. Even in he had to stay deep underground for the rest of his life…it was a price worth paying.

He huddled deep in to a crevice, a woolen coat draped around his shoulders. There was dampness in the dark cave and a drip-drip-drip.

Drip-drip-drip.

Drip-drip-drip.

Drip-drip-step.

Gebrattle's eyes widened and he strained his hearing. Surely he had misheard. No carts had come down to the caverns. No one, save goblins, could apparate into this place.

Drip-drip-drip.

He exhaled a deep breath. It was only his paranoid mind playing tricks. There was no one else with him.

He relaxed and let the sounds of the caves soothe his nerves. For a while there were no more sounds save the constant drip of water. In the distance he heard the sound of something rolling, but it did not concern him. Most likely a wizard wanted something from his vault. Gebrattle listened to the rolling sound, waiting for the acceleration of the car and the booms and echoes that followed. When nothing happened, though, Gebrattle frowned. Something was still rolling around in the darkness, and was it his imagination, or was it getting louder…closer…

Shivers crawled up and down Gebrattle's body, and not from the cold. Apprehensively, he peaked out from his hole. Though pitch black, Gebrattle had no trouble seeing. He looked left and saw only rocks, and then he turned his eyes to the right. At first he saw nothing, but after he blinked a small crystal ball rolled into sight. Gebrattle gulped and watched as the crystal orb rolled up to him and stopped a mere handbreadth away. In sheer panic Gebrattle kicked the crystal and sent it flying away from him.

He expected to hear it shatter against the walls, but much to his horror, a black gloved hand appeared and caught the crystal effortlessly.

"Hello, Gebrattle." The King's voice was clam, but there was an edge to it.

Gebrattle fell to his knees, "Your Majesty! Safe, I see! Gebrattle is pleased to see it."

The King took a step forward and smiled, his sharp canines glistening in the dimness. "I am sure." He looked around the cave briefly and then turned back to Gebrattle. "I see you enjoy dark, damp places?"

Gebrattle worked his mouth, "Err…Your Majesty?"

Quicker than Gebrattle could think, the king was on him, lifting him by the collar of his coat and dangling him above a deep crevasse. "Do not play me for a fool!" The king said angrily as he shook Gebrattle.

"Please, mercy! Mercy!" Gebrattle held onto the king's hands as he begged, one shoe slipped of and Gebrattle saw it tumbling down into the darkness.

"Mercy?" The king replied. The one word was like a knife shattering any of Gebrattle's hopes of surviving this encounter. Again the king glanced around the cavern. "I see you like dark places." His eyes gleamed like crystals as he dropped the goblin Gebrattle. Gebrattle shrieked and as he plummeted down into the depths. He caught one last glimpse of the king before his world went black.

However, the goblin did not fall to his death in the dark caverns of Gringotts. No, that was too quick an end for him, and the Goblin King was not known for his forgiveness. The goblin disappeared only moments before the king. That was the last anyone Above saw or heard from the Goblin Gebrattle, but the gaolers Underground noted a new resident in an oubliette.

***********MM*************

The dungeon had faded away before her eyes and a new more familiar environment replaced the cold, wet stones. Mavic found herself sighing in relief as she instantly recognized the odds and ends of Dumbledore's study. Her hands were shaking though. Never had she imagined she would survive an encounter with Voldemort…and really, she hadn't. No, she had been sent away.

"Dammit Jareth!"

The sudden shout caused Mavic to start and she spun around in time to see Sarah Williams and her son appear in the room. The woman's green eyes were flashing angrily as she spotted Mavic. "Where are we? Where did he send us?" Sarah demanded.

Before Mavic could respond, an old man's voice replied, "His Majesty sent you someplace safe." Dumbledore himself moved slowly into the room, his long beard swaying in time with his smoky blue robes.

"I am Albus Dumbledore," he continued as he sat behind his massive desk. "Please, have a seat." Mavic made her way to a lush chair and watched as Sarah picked up Evan and followed suit. Evan seemed genuinely curious about the old wizard, though Dumbledore addressed Sarah alone. "Welcome to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It is here where King Jareth has sent you. I am the Headmaster of this school."

Mavic caught Sarah's green gaze, "No one has fought harder against Voldemort than Dumbledore."

"Voldemort…from the dungeons?" Mavic nodded and watched as Sarah relaxed a little into the chair. "What do we do now?" Sarah asked calmly.

"Wait," was Dumbledore's only response.

Some time passed in silence. A house elf apparated into the office burdened with hot tea and biscuits. The grey little creature wore motley of clothes that made Mavic bite back a laugh. Evan, however, just smiled and complimented the elf on its colors, which caused the elf to fall to his knees in such happiness that Dumbledore had to order it back to the kitchens.

More time passed, but in the windowless room it was impossible to guess just how much time. Evan eventually fell asleep nestled between his mother and the plush chair. Sarah leaned against her arm as it was resting on the arm rest. Dumbledore just sat with his fingers steepled upon his desk.

Only a slight stir in the air betrayed Jareth's appearance in the office, but it was enough to wake Evan from his slumber. The blond haired boy was out of the chair and into Jareth's arms before Mavic really understood what was happening. The two shared a look, no words were spoken, but Jareth touched his forehead to the boy's before setting him down, all the while still holding a small hand. There was something powerful in the exchange that made Mavic feel like an outsider. She glanced at Sarah, who had risen from the chair. A small smile graced her lips, though she made no attempt to interrupt her husband and son's private moment.

The moment passed when Jareth, now in black leather inlaid with intricate swirls of red velvet, approached Dumbledore. "It seems I am forbidden from directly interfering in this war of yours."

Dumbledore seemed to deflate, but he just nodded. "I see."

A smirk graced Jareth's features. "However, I do believe I can help you." With a flick of his wrist a crystal ball shimmered into his gloved fingertips. Dumbledore gazed briefly at the crystal, and then returned his sight to Jareth.

"What is it?"

Jareth's grin broadened into a smile, "A gift." He began to twirl the crystal around his hand and forearm in a smooth dance brought on by years of practice, and Mavic supposed a little magic. "But this is no ordinary crystal, Headmaster. For in its depths I believe lies a way to destroy this Lord Voldemort once and for all. But," and he clutched the crystal tight, "it comes at a price. A sacrifice, on your part."

Dumbledore leaned back into his chair. "What shall be this price?"

Jareth shook his head once. "Only time will tell. It is a risk, but a chance. The decision is yours." He extended the crystal to Dumbledore, who seemed to age a lifetime before Mavic's eyes. With a deep breath Dumbledore reached out and took the crystal.

A bright light blinded Mavic for a moment, but when her eyes adjusted Dumbledore was still seated and the royal family was still in the room, but there was an unnatural stillness to the air. "What happened?" She asked aloud.

"I have paused time for a moment," Jareth replied. "Mavic, you have helped me recover my family, and for that I am eternally grateful. I have an honor I would bestow upon you."

"Of course, Your Majesty," she managed to respond without stuttering.

Jareth just smiled lazily, "Once I restore time's flow no one, except the goblin kind will remember us. Save you." Mavic's eyes widened and Jareth continued, "Keep us posted on this war. You are officially the Royal Liaison between our worlds." And just like that, Jareth, Sarah, and Evaneth Williams vanished from her sight. As time resumed its forward march, Mavic noticed a small chain hanging around her neck. Curiously she examined the necklace and saw a triangular pendant with a flying owl in the center. Gingerly, she tucked the necklace inside her robe and turned towards Dumbledore.

He took a deep breath, and clapped his hands together. "Mavic, I believe we are saved," he said as he held a perfectly round crystal.

Time moved differently Underground, slower, and calmer. Jareth and Sarah watched as time graced their young son. Soon a year passed. Mavic spoke of a worsening war Above. Goblins and elves of various races sought sanctuary Underground, and more often than naught, it was granted. It was also the year that Albus Dumbledore died.

Another year passed and the memories from Above began to fade from Evan's mind. He began training with Jareth in the ways of Underground magic. That was also the year Jareth and Sarah were blessed with a baby girl with jet black hair, but to Sarah's delight the baby had Jareth's mismatched eyes.

Then one day, while Jareth and Evan were fencing and little Annabelle was cheering from Sarah's lap, a familiar house-elf apparated in the Underground. It had big, watery eyes, and long floppy ears, and wore tattered rags, and when Evan saw the little elf he dropped his sword and ran screaming excitedly, "Fren! Father look! Fren!"

Jareth was uncertain who was happier, his son, or the elf who was laughing and crying while shouting "The Prince! The Prince!" all the while the two hugged like long lost friends. "Well, well. If it isn't Fren." Jareth said not unkindly as he crouched down beside the two. "And how is it that Fren has arrived?"

The elf wiped his runny nose on his rags. "The mistress is dead." Fren is free!" He gulped down a breath. "Fren was wondering if he could serve the king and queen and prince." Fren glanced quickly to Sarah then back to Jareth. "Fren is a good worker. He will serve you proudly."

Both Evan and Fren looked up to Jareth with wistful expressions. "It seems Fren, that we have no room for anymore servants." Fren began crying, Evan began shouting, and even Sarah cried out with shock. So much commotion was in the room that the rest of his sentence, "but you may stay as a friend" almost went unheard. Almost.

"Wait." Evan stopped his shouting and covered Fren's mouth with a gloved hand. "Did you say he could stay? Really?" When Jareth nodded, the room erupted in cheers again. Fren and Evan began dancing and frolicking around the room. Baby Annabelle wobbled after the two, caught up in their excitement. Sarah came behind Jareth and wrapped her arms around him, leaning her chin on his shoulder.

"Careful, Goblin King," she said with smile, "I think you're going soft." Jareth smirked and, being the wiser of the two, remained silent. Together they watched as their children celebrated the reunion with the newest occupant of the castle.

That was the same year that the Royal Highnesses received word from Mavic that the self-styling Lord Voldemort had been defeated. Jareth accepted the news with a stoic calm. Sarah, however, gave a shout of "Good Riddance!"

Time, after that, resumed its normal flow Underground and Above. Jareth and Sarah happily watched Evan grow up to be a handful of energy with wild blonde hair. He was skilled in both magic and arms and was the spitting image of Jareth, except that Evan never lost his fondness for the more simple creatures of the Underground. Fren, though not officially a servant, was Evan's constant companion and trustee. Fren also found time to dote on the princess Annabelle, who grew up tall and lean, with raven black hair and mismatched blue eyes. She was faster than her brother on foot and horse. The two were perfect siblings. Even when they bickered there was always a sparkle of affection in their eyes.

One day in spring, several years later, the Royal Family were taking a picnic in Firey Wood. The sky was blue in the small clearing where Sarah and Annabelle sunbathed on a blanket. Evan was playing keep away with some of the Fireys while Jareth watched as he leaned against a tree.

"Father, look!" Annabelle cried pointing to the sky. They all turned their gazes upward in time to see a tawny owl flying towards them, a package clutched between its claws. The owl folded its wings in and dipped down, dropping the letter neatly into Sarah's lap before winging back up. It settled on a low branch and gave a small hoot as it ruffled and preened its feathers.

Sarah took the envelope and turned it over in her hands. On one side was a seal with a large "H" pressed into the wax. She instantly recognized it as a Hogwarts letter and handed it out to Jareth. He opened the letter, browsed over it. First amusement crossed his face, and then he frowned.

Evan made his way to his father and inquired, "What's the matter Father? Is everything alright Aboveground?" Jareth said nothing, only handed his son the letter. "What's this? For me?" Evan scanned the letter then laughed aloud. "Is this serious!"

"What is it Evan?" Annabelle asked with breathless curiosity.

Evan cleared his throat and began reciting:

"Dear Evaneth Williams, Heir and High Prince of the Underground,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours Sincerely, Minerva McGonagall (Headmaster)"

There was a stunned silence. And then Evan gave a loud holler. "Yes!" He shouted as he mock punched the air around him. "Oh, can I go Father?" He turned towards Sarah. "Mother?"

"Oh the Above!" Annabelle chimed in. "I want to see the Above! Can we go Father?"

Sarah stood with a smile. "What do you think Jareth? Shall the Williams family return Above?"

"It seems," Jareth said with a small smile, "that the matter has already been decided."

The two William's siblings shouted happily and danced around the clearing. Jareth enjoyed watching them play, but a small frown crossed his features again. Sarah saw and leaned into him, her arms draped on either side of his neck. "Don't worry. Nothing will happen." He glanced down into her green eyes and pulled him close to her. "No?" He whispered. "No. It will be fantastic." She replied before standing on her tiptoes and kissing him. Jareth pulled from the embrace and nodded. "Above then."

~The End