Chapter 15: Be My Wife

Sarah awoke, and immediately wished she hadn't. Every bone and muscle ached, and her head thundered in agony. She couldn't seem to peel back her eyelids, and when she tried to swallow, the fire in her throat forced a whimper. Worse, the sound caused the person lying next to her to tighten an arm possessively around her waist, further jostling her aching bones. Her memory of the failing battle flooded back to her and she twisted away from the constricting arm in panic, landing in a painful crouch against the far wall. She glared at the man she had dragged upright in her effort to escape. He looked like Jareth, but she couldn't be certain, and the memory of Drake's threats made her pulse pound with fear. She licked her parched lips, eyes flickering to the only exit, on the far side of the bed. Her gaze locked back onto the bed's inhabitant as he shifted, and she reached blindly to the table beside her for something that could serve as a weapon.

"Sarah..." His voice held a warning as he started to move towards her.

"Stay away from me. Don't touch me," she croaked, brandishing what might generously be called a mirror, but which was at least metal and heavy. The man glowered at her, his expression a mixture of anger and disbelief. When she didn't back down, he threw up his hands and stormed from the room. And that was when it dawned on Sarah that the man could only have been Jareth, since Drake would not have been deterred by a makeshift mirror. Too exhausted and confused to contemplate chasing after him, Sarah sank to the floor, cradling her aching head in her arms.

"That was not well done, milady." Sarah lifted her head just far enough to see Didymus frowning at her from the doorway. Dropping her head back down, she groaned.

"I thought he was Drake." Silence stretched out as she listened to the fox move around the room. Didymus's gentle paw on her arm brought her head up again, and she accepted his sympathetic look along with a glass of water. The cool water eased some of the pain, but her throat still felt raw. She stared at the moisture beaded on the glass as she gathered the courage to ask the obvious question.

"Did we win?"

"We won, milady, but not without cost. It was your doing, and his majesty's. Your song destroyed the trolls and stopped the elfshot, and when your magic began to fail, his majesty gave you his." Sarah's eyes widened, remembering the strong arms that had held her, the wild magic that had flowed through her.

"But that–Sand told me that was dangerous."

"It is, milady, but very brave. He is a noble knight." Sarah could only agree with the fox's assessment, guilt warring with awe, gratitude, and a strange warmth towards Jareth that she could not bring herself to name. Then her brow furrowed as she recalled the fox's words.

"Not without cost? Didymus, who did we lose?" The knight looked mournful.

"Not many yet. But there is no easy cure for elfshot. Without a connection to the Labyrinth, even his majesty couldn't do it. We will lose many more by tomorrow morning."

"Jareth – can't he – I mean, the battle is over, so the Labyrinth should recognize..." Didymus sadly shook his head.

"The war is over, but his majesty's brother is still in the Labyrinth, in custody until justice can be done."

"Justice?! He deserves to die! Especially if it will save our people!"

"Sarah!" Didymus barked at her sharply, his recrimination clear. "Would you have his majesty be no better than his brother?" Sarah sat back, deflated.

"No. I just... can't something be done? Some way to get the Labyrinth to recognize him?" Didymus chewed on his moustache thoughtfully.

"I know not, milady. Surely if there were such a way, his majesty would have done so already? Perhaps," the fox gave her an assessing look, "perhaps you could speak to the Labyrinth?" Sarah's eyes went wide.

"I could do that?" Didymus scratched absently at his hind quarters, considering.

"Yes. Anyone can. Few choose to – it is not a comfortable thing to do – but all you must do is call on the Labyrinth at the juncture between any two sections. You must consider, milady ...it is not always safe to ask the Labyrinth to take notice."

"Didymus, I have to try."

"Of course. I have always admired your bravery, my Lady."

Hope surging through her, Sarah urged Didymus to lead her to the nearest juncture, a place where stone walls gave way to a twisting jungle. Following the fox's instructions, she placed one hand on the cool stone, and other on a living wall of vines, calling to the Labyrinth in her mind. In an instant, the vines wrapped around her hand on the one side, hard thorns pressing against her skin, while on the other side the stone swallowed her hand, grinding her bones together painfully. Both sides seemed to pull apart, stretching her taut until she cried out in pain, afraid that she would be torn in two.

"Who calls? Who dares? Who disturbs?" The words overlapped in whispers and roars inside her head, a thousand different voices speaking almost in unison. An immense presence dug through her mind, and Sarah struggled to remember her purpose. Gasping, she focused on an image of Jareth, and the mental maelstrom eased slightly. She could feel the weight of the Labyrinth's expectation, as she struggled to speak, her tongue clumsy with dread.

"Please. The war is over. You must—" a tug of the vines warned her against making demands. "Please, give him back the magic. So many people will die, your people. He can help them, but only if he can reach you." For a long moment the Labyrinth was silent. Sarah closed her eyes against the worried look on Didymus's face, pleading desperately in her mind. But the Labyrinth's answer when it came was rich with regret. It could not reach out to Jareth because it could not tell him apart from his brother any more than it could before the war had begun. Sarah thought quickly.

"Then let me tell you. I can show you where he is." The Labyrinth's disdain was quick and painful. It threw her own memories at her, her confusion when she heard Drake's voice in the throne room, her fear and rejection of Jareth when she woke after the battle. "No! That's not—" she stopped herself before she could add 'fair.' "I know the difference. Drake is cold. Everything about him is cruel, even his voice. He would destroy everything in the Labyrinth, and he would never let me near him without attacking me. Jareth... Jareth would never hurt me. I know him. Please." The Labyrinth seemed to examine her even closer, measuring her, sifting her thoughts and intentions, before it finally responded with another image, the one it had shown her on the walls of the throne room, Jareth's haunted expression from the day she had rejected his offer and won Toby back. Sarah hung her head, letting herself feel the guilt his expression inspired.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know. I didn't know I had a choice. I had to save my brother and it was what I thought I had to do."

"Would you do it again?" The Labyrinth's voice seemed less fractured, though its complexity threatened her sanity. Sarah considered the question carefully, sensing that something monumental weighed upon her answer. What, exactly, had she done? He had offered her dreams and she had refused them because she believed the only way to save Toby was to reject Jareth. But he had also asked her to fear, love, and obey him.

"Jareth is... he is my king. I still wouldn't take my dreams in exchange for someone else's life. I... don't want anyone to just hand me my dreams, anyway. But... he is a good man, and... and I trust him. I would do anything to help him."

"Will you swear it?" Sarah hesitated only a moment, knowing without needing to be told, that anything she swore would be bound by power beyond her comprehension.

"Yes." The words she needed rang clear in her mind. "I swear fealty to the Labyrinth and to Jareth, the Goblin King, King of Lost Things, Lord of the Labyrinth, with heart, hand, and mind." She hissed as the thorns pierced her skin on one side, and a sharp stone nicked her on the other, but the sensation that followed made her cry out in surprise. As her blood flowed onto the Labyrinth, she felt the entity's power flow into her, bathing the rawness of her throat and easing the ache in her muscles. The vines loosened and the stone let go, but the magic continued to flood into her, filling the emptiness that she recognized as her own exhausted power, and then flowing over until she felt her skin would burst with golden fire. She gasped, steadying herself against Didymus when he ran to her side.

"My Lady? Are you alright?" She shook her head in wonder.

"I don't know how he does it." Catching sight of the fox's concerned expression, she chuckled lowly. "Don't worry, Didymus. I'm... fine. More than fine. But I think you'd better take me to the battlefield. We have some work to do."

She healed Ludo first, and then sent him out to collect others who were seriously wounded or paralyzed by elfshot. By the time she had finished healing those still on or near the battlefield, word had spread, and there was a long procession of inhabitants carrying or supporting their wounded friends and family members. Hoggle was quick to weed out those who could heal on their own in time, but even so, Sarah spent several hours laying her hands on grubby, blood stained goblins and other injured creatures, using the Labyrinth's borrowed power to knit together bones and flesh and push out the elfshot toxin. Her eyesight was blurry with exhaustion long before she was finished, and she had given up walking from patient to patient, letting the wounded come to her where she sat on Ludo's knee. When the last goblin had scampered gleefully away, seemingly unfazed by his temporary paralysis and potential demise, Sarah slumped back against Ludo's warm and rumbling chest, closing her eyes gratefully and burrowing her face in his soft fur.

"Sawah tired?" asked the great beast, as he gently stroked her hair with a dark finger.

"Course she's tired, ya big brute. We all are. You should get some sleep, Sarah." Sarah sighed, wishing that she could agree with Hoggle's advice, but she knew she had one more thing to do before she could rest.

"I have to see him." They did not need to ask whom she meant.

And that was what brought her to the Goblin King's study. Her new connection to the Labyrinth told her that he was in there – she knew the source of that hurt pride, even if the Labyrnth did not – but there was no answer to her knock. She sighed and started to ease the door open, ducking back quickly to avoid the object which shattered against the doorframe. Eyeing the remains of what looked to be a vase, she spoke to her unseen assailant.

"I suppose I deserved that."

"Go away."

"Jareth, please?" When he didn't answer, she cautiously opened the door all the way, her eyes finding him immediately, despite the darkness of the unlit room. He was slumped in the windowsill, his gaze locked on the Labyrinth beyond.

"I'm sorry. When I woke, I didn't know what had happened. I wasn't thinking straight, and I," she hated admitting it to him, "I thought you might be Drake. I was frightened." Jareth's lack of response or even acknowledgement irked Sarah, but she swallowed her pride, reminding herself what she owed him and what he'd been through. "Thank you for saving my life. Again." He still said nothing, but Sarah was determined to wait him out. Finally he spoke, his voice bitter.

"What do you want? A reward for your noble behaviour? It seems to me that you rejected me hours ago. Did it take you all this time to stomach an apology?"

"I went to talk to the Labyrinth." Jareth's head shot around, his eye wide with surprise. With lithe grace, he unfolded himself from the windowsill and stalked towards her.

"Did you, indeed? And why would you do such a foolish thing?"

"To ask the Labyrinth to give you your magic back, so you could heal the wounded."

"Ah." The single syllable acknowledged the futility of her gesture, and his shoulders slumped again as he turned away from her. As another innocent vase suddenly shot from a bookshelf to smash into a nearby wall (this time nowhere near her), she realized the Jareth was struggling with his rage and sorrow over his inability to save his subjects.

"Jareth, it's ok. The Labyrinth gave me the magic to help them instead."

"It did what?!" Jareth's open-jawed shock would have been comical in other circumstances, but Sarah needed to convince him that everything was going to be alright.

"It gave me the magic, because it couldn't give it to you, and I promised I could show it that you're really you and not Drake, and I swore an oath, and then I had to make sure everyone would be ok before I could come find you and—"

"Sarah!" His urgent tone and his hands on her shoulders stopped the frantic flow of words. "Sarah. I am not angry. And I believe you. Slow down. You swore an oath?" Sarah took a deep breath, reliving the conversation with the Labyrinth in her mind.

"Yes, an oath of, of fealty?" Jareth looked almost as shocked as he had before, and he dropped his hands from her shoulder, stepping back to gaze at her wonderingly.

"What, exactly, did you swear, Sarah." She told him, and his delighted expression caused the pieces to fall into place for her. She felt small and stupid.

"You've won, haven't you." Jareth blinked in surprise at her suddenly changed mood.

"What do you mean?"

"'Fear me, love me, do as I say'? I don't really have a choice now, do I? You've won." Jareth stared at her in bafflement for a moment, and then shook his head, laughing gently as he wrapped his arms around her. She stiffened, but he held her loosely, resting his jaw against her temple.

"Sarah, dear one, do you know the difference between obedience and loyalty?" When she did not reply, he continued. "Obedience is born out of fear, but loyalty," he paused, savouring the word, "loyalty is born from love. A king may command obedience, but loyalty can only be given freely." He leaned his head back to look in her eyes. "Do you love me, Sarah? For I have loved you from the first moment I saw you."

Sarah breathed her response into the space where their lips met. He was not the Goblin King, but the man she loved and ached to hold until the world fell down, a man whose warm, strong body melded to hers, whose lips yielded to hers, whose mouth tasted sweet against her tongue. And in that moment of perfect certainty, the Labyrinth rushed through her, reclaiming its king.

Sarah pulled away, her gaze locked on the floor, uncomfortable with the power radiating from the Goblin King. Jareth gently took her chin and lifted her face to look at him.

"What's wrong." She shook her head and moved further away, putting a chair between them. She didn't know how to tell him that she loved Jareth, but feared the Goblin King.

"Sarah, sit. Please." She did, chagrined at his politeness in the face of her mixed signals. He sat down in a chair opposite her, contemplating her silently for a moment.

"Sarah, the oath you've sworn, it is an ancient and powerful thing. There are few things more valuable to a king than true loyalty. To be able to trust someone completely, to know that one person at least will always give an honest opinion... Sarah, I would never threaten that loyalty by pressuring you into something you don't want." Sarah's brow furrowed as she struggled to interpret his reassurance. Her eyes widened when she realized that he thought she regretted kissing him.

"No! I mean, I," she bit her lip. "I... liked that, I just..." she huffed in frustration. "You, you're not just you, are you? You're you and the Labyrinth." He looked puzzled.

"So are you, love. You swore your oath to the Labyrinth as well, as I did, centuries ago."

"Oh." Sarah frowned, standing to pace as she struggled to sort out her conflicting emotions. His power awed and overwhelmed her, and she was acutely conscious of her inexperience. Under all the titles he showered on her, what was she but a simple, mortal girl dependant on his generosity, on his mercy? Shame flooded her as she finally acknowledged the truth she had fought to deny, that she had been the one to break his heart, that her naive refusal at the end of her run through the Labyrinth had hurt him and cast a shadow over her friends' lives. And under all her roiling emotions, she realized that she was afraid, not just of giving in to what she wanted, but of the consequences of her actions. She had acted thoughtlessly before; she could not afford to do so again.

"I can't pretend that I don't find you attractive," she glared at his self-assured smirk, "but it's not that simple. You're a king; I expect that means you can't, um, get involved with just anyone. And what happens afterwards? In the morning, in a week, in a month? The next time I piss you off or you act like a jerk?" She rolled her eyes at his expression of mock offense. "I need time to think this through, Jareth."

"By all means, Sarah, take your time," he drawled, standing and moving towards her, crowding her against the wall. His voice was low and sultry in her ear: "You want me, and I shall have you. Your attempts to delay will only make my victory sweeter."

Sarah exclaimed in frustration, breaking away from him. "You are impossible! Does everything have to be a competition with you?" His surprised expression was all the answer she needed. "Fine," she grumbled, rubbing her temples as she thought quickly. "You have thirteen months to convince me that this," she gestured vaguely between them, "can work."

"And what gives you the right to set the rules?"

She cocked an eyebrow. "The right of the one who controls the prize. Unless you'd rather not play?" She smiled sweetly, and he conceded with a smirking nod, motioning for her to continue.

"Thirteen months. You can't use magic to control my decision, and you have to respect my privacy – don't go in my room without my permission. No watching me magically, either." Jareth's evident disappointment confirmed her suspicion that he had already been spying on her. She frowned at him severely.

"So cruel, Sarah. Anything else?" Sarah thought hard, sighing sadly as she realized her final condition.

"At the end of thirteen months, if I ... if I'm not convinced, you'll let it go. We can be friends, or king and subject, but nothing more. Promise me you'll let it go."

"That is scarcely a concern, Sarah; I know better now what pleases you than I did the last time. If the challenge is to court you, even with your restrictions, I will win your heart."

Sarah's breath caught: he already had her heart; it was her head that needed convincing. But the rest of his comment gave her pause. The 'last time' could only be her run when she was sixteen. He had been trying to please her? She frowned at him. "What exactly does a Goblin King think courting entails?"

He raised an eyebrow at her phrasing. "Besides granting the object his affection her wishes, re-ordering time, hosting a ball in her honour...?"

Sarah clicked her jaw shut, shaking her head in disbelief. "Refusing to return her baby brother? Throwing the cleaners at her? Feeding her drugged fruit? Where I come from, a boy brings a girl flowers or takes her out to a movie."

He looked miffed. "I am not a boy."

"Yeah," she grinned slyly, "I got that part." He settled back in his chair, pleased at her implied compliment.

"And how, darling Sarah, am I to measure my success?"

Sarah blushed. "That depends on what you are hoping to win."

"A lover, a partner, a queen, a soulmate."

Desire tightened her thighs, rolled in waves up her abdomen, but she forced it down.

"You'll know when I've said yes to each one."

"Agreed."

And the labyrinth purred its approval of a bargain well struck.

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Hi folks! Finally finished. Please let me know what you think, and whether you'd like the sequel.

AA