Prisoner of Love (Rated R)
by The Hooded Crow (Email: [email protected])

Sarah flew down the spiral stairs as fast as she could, caring little for her safety. She just needed to get away from Jareth. She didn’t look back.

The fine rooms that she had been pleasantly shown around earlier that day all raced past in a blur as she bolted for the safety of her chambers. She slammed and locked the door behind her, knowing full well that it would not keep Jareth out if he was determined to see her. It just made her feel a lot better to turn the key.

Once safe inside her room, she leaned heavily against the door for a long while, her emotions numbed, desperately trying to make sense of her confusion. Nothing made sense any more, her mind was racing with all kinds of jumbled thoughts and feelings. Something warm splashed onto her cheek, distracting her, and she realised that she was crying. Again. How pathetic! Hating herself for giving in to tears, she crossed to the bed and buried her face in the pillow. Try as she might, she couldn’t hold back the floods that were waiting to be released.

This time yesterday, Sarah had been so certain that she hated Jareth, he was the monster who had snatched her brother.

Worse, he had stolen her away from her own wedding. It had been safe to hate him, comfortable.

She knew what to do about hate.

She had discovered more than one secret this afternoon, it seemed, for as soon as she had read the greeting on that letter, her true feelings for Jareth had been brutally and painfully revealed to her.

She had been totally devastated to discover that he had a wife.

For years she had been searching for someone to fill the gap left when she had turned him away, never quite realising that it was Jareth himself that she had been looking for all this time.

Alan was rich, powerful, extravagant, he had swept her off her feet, and she had been dazzled by the power he wielded, lord of his own business empire, with many minions ready to do his bidding.

Now that she thought about it, the similarities between Alan and Jareth were obvious; Alan had been a substitute for a King, the closest that she had been able to get in the mortal world. Yet Alan did not thrill her, did not set her nerves jangling or send shivers up her spine when he entered the room, as Jareth did. She couldn’t lose herself in Alan’s eyes, the thought of his touch did not give her goosebumps.

Her feelings for Jareth ran deeper than lust or physical attraction, she couldn’t turn away from the truth anymore.

The realisation had come as a terrible shock.

She loved him.

Dear Lord, she loved him so much that it hurt.

And he could never be hers; he was married to another.

For all his concern about saving her from being hurt, for all he was supposed to care for her, he had tricked her yet again.

He couldn’t be trusted.

Oh, but she should have known, should have realised that his friendliness this afternoon had all been a ploy to toy with her emotions. This was all a game to him, and always had been; for what could a creature such as Jareth possibly know about love? He was too cold, too cruel, too selfish.

A master of torment.

His wife was probably in on the joke too, they were probably both laughing at her right now; the foolish mortal girl who didn’t have the wit to sense when she was being led astray. What fun!

The bastard!

How was it possible to love someone deeply yet hate them intensely at the same time? Sarah felt as though her heart would shatter from the pain that she felt.

And yet....

There had been the drawing, the rough sketch that he had made of her in all her ballroom finery, with it’s heartfelt message scrawled underneath...

And that look in his eyes last night, when she had sent him away...

Nothing made sense anymore.

* * *

Jareth did not immediately leap after Sarah, he was too shocked. He stood for a long while staring sadly at the letter, the ink stains, the mess that Sarah had left of his desk, distressed that the woman he loved had undermined his trust so completely.

He had allowed her into his private sanctuary, one of the few places within the castle that was personal and almost sacred to him. It had been a long while since Jareth had let his guard down and allowed anyone to get this close.

Now he felt violated somehow, he was hurt, and he was angry; so furious that he didn’t trust himself near her.

True, he would never strike a woman, hadn’t he told Sarah so that morning? Yet at this moment he felt like giving her the hiding of her life.

So Sarah had got a nasty surprise. Well serve her right, she had no business prying in the first place.

The worse thing of all, as far as Jareth was concerned, was the bitter disappointment that Sarah was not quite the person he imagined her to be, she had let him down, badly.

He paced the room, back and forth, back and forth, trying hard to get his fury under control.

Eventually he gave up and headed towards Sarah’s room.

It was no good, he would have to speak with her.

* * *

Sovay briefly ventured out to her old quarters in the attic, and rescued her few belongings before they were commandeered by the other maids. She picked her time carefully, knowing that there would be nobody upstairs when she called; she did not want to risk running into any of the girls, or Miss Myrtle. Then she retired to her chamber, as Jareth had wished, and spent the rest of the day curled up on her bed with her embroidery, relaxing and recovering. A goblin maid brought her some lunch, then scuttled off. It felt somehow unnatural to Sovay to be waited on, but it was definitely a perk of royalty that she could get used to.

Truth be told she was more exhausted that she had let on, and sorely needed the rest. She was relieved that Jareth had finally got his act together and decided to show Sarah around.

Hopefully things were looking up for him. Sarah’s attitude had seemed slightly warmer towards him that morning, perhaps they had blown off enough steam with their argument last night that they could at least talk civilly to each other today.

A door slammed further down the hall, from the direction of Sarah’s room.

Sovay raised her eyes to the heavens and sighed. Or perhaps not...

She shook her head sadly, wondering what Jareth had done to upset Sarah again.

Well, she was not going to attempt to talk to Sarah this time, she didn’t want to risk making the situation worse.

She settled back to her detailed work.

Less than half an hour later a furious knocking from down the hall made her jump almost out of her skin, and she pricked her finger with her needle.

‘Sarah!’ Jareth shouted.

‘Sarah, Open this door!’

He did not sound happy.

‘Don’t try my patience, Sarah, open the door!’

He sounded absolutely bloody furious. Sovay shuddered, she had rarely heard him raise his voice. He was usually terrifying enough without having to shout.

‘Go away!’ Sarah’s muffled voice came from behind the door.

‘I don’t want anything to do with you.’ She sounded really upset.

This was too much for Sovay, she quietly opened her door, and stepped into the corridor. Jareth stood outside Sarah’s room, a thunderous expression on his face, his hands clenched into fists, his whole body bristling with anger.

‘Sarah, if you don’t open this door right now, I’m coming through anyway. It’s your choice.’ He shouted, slamming his fists noisily into the wood.

‘Jareth?’ Sovay said quietly,

‘That is not the way to resolve things.’

He gave her a look that could have flayed her alive; it took all of her courage not to flinch.

‘Stay out of this, Sovay. It is not your concern.’ He hissed.

Sovay drew in a sharp breath, and locked eyes with him, determined to stand her ground. She couldn’t allow her brother to intimidate her, he was going to have to listen to her occasionally.

There was a first time for everything....

‘No I will not stay out of this, Jareth, and it is my concern. It became my concern the other night when you asked for my advice. You are obviously upset. So is Sarah. You are not going to achieve anything productive by screaming at each other.’

He glowered at her, but she held his gaze as she walked slowly down the corridor towards him.

‘Come away, Jareth,’ she said gently, tugging on his arm. ‘Leave it until you’ve both calmed down, then maybe you can talk reasonably about this.’

She was right, damn it! Jareth looked at Sovay with a new respect, any doubts he might have had about his kinship with her had been dispelled. Who else but a blood relative could possibly face him down in this mood?

‘Very well,’ He said darkly, as he allowed her to lead him away.

Behind the door, Sarah sagged against the doorframe and made a mental note to thank Sovay, if she ever saw her again.

It was time to leave. Sarah had no real idea where she would go, yet she couldn’t stay another minute in this wretched place. Perhaps there was a way back to her world somewhere beyond the Labyrinth, or maybe she would be able to find Hoggle, or one of her other friends. They would surely help her.

It was daunting, facing the Labyrinth again, yet Sarah felt fairly confident that she could get through it. After all, the whole point was to stop people from finding their way to the castle, and she would be heading in the other direction.

She changed back into her wedding dress, leaving her borrowed dress complete with ink-stains, neatly folded on her bed. There was no time to lose, Sovay had persuaded Jareth to leave her alone for now, who knew how long that would last.

Casting one last look around her hated room, Sarah slipped quietly away.

* * *

‘Jareth, whatever happened to upset you so?’ Sovay asked, ‘Would it make you feel better to talk about it?’

He gave her a black look.

‘No’ he said curtly, and continued paced up and down the length of her room, like a caged tiger.

‘Fair enough.’ Sovay flopped onto the bed, and busied herself in her embroidery again, pretending for all the world that she was not bothered. Eventually his pacing was too irritating even for her placid temperament.

‘Jareth! for goodness sake, sit down!’ She snapped.

Jareth gave her a surprised look, and did so, leaning forward in the armchair and burying his head in his hands.

Sovay continued with her work, keeping one wary eye on him, knowing well enough not to press for answers, he would talk when he was ready.

A long while later, he raised his head, and watched as she sewed, almost mesmerised by the needle, as she calmly pushed it over, under, over, under, creating an intricate pattern of beauty.

‘Sarah betrayed me,’ He said softly.

The needle stopped, and Sovay raised her pale eyes to gaze into his face. The terrible raging anger had burnt itself out, and had been replaced with despair, hopelessness.

‘I trusted her, and she abused my trust. She should be punished.’ His voice was cold, dead.

‘That would certainly help your relationship along nicely,’ Sovay quipped, regretting her frivolity the instant she caught his expression; he looked desperately unhappy.

‘I allowed her into the Solar.’

Sovay almost dropped her embroidery.

The solar was off limits to the staff - along with Jareth’s private chambers. If Sarah only knew how privileged she had been...

‘I hoped that she would like the room, and she did appear quite taken with it.’ Jareth continued, ‘I thought it might be romantic to have lunch there, so I went down to the kitchens to arrange it.’

His eyes hardened, and he looked directly at Sovay.

‘I was gone less than five minutes, Sovay. In that time, Sarah busied herself by reading through my private correspondence.’

Sovay bit her lip and looked away, horrified. Jareth’s anger was understandable; Sarah had committed an act of treason. Had it been a member of staff that Jareth had found going through his papers, well... Sovay shuddered to think what he might have done. The Bog of Eternal Stench would seem like a walk in the park by comparison.

‘It gets worse...’ Jareth muttered.

How could it possibly get any worse? Sovay wondered, as she met his tortured gaze again.

‘Sarah...’ he struggled for the words, ‘Sarah found a letter from Merla.’

‘Merla!’ Sovay cried. ‘You mean she didn’t know? Dear Lord, Jareth, that was careless of you.’

He studied the floor.

‘She was barely speaking to me, Sovay. I was hoping to gain her friendship at least before I attempted to explain. I would have told her as soon as I got the chance.’

Sovay rolled her eyes.

‘You’d better go and explain to her, right now. Don’t waste any more time here. Can you imagine what Sarah must be thinking?’

He nodded slowly.

‘Only too well. And it serves her right, she can stew on it for a while.’

‘Jareth!’

‘I mean it, Sovay. What Sarah did today was inexcusable. Perhaps this will teach her a lesson.’

He stood up and stretched.

‘Now, if you will excuse me, I have a kingdom to run.’

Sovay watched him leave, and sighed. He was so difficult.

An hour ago, he would have torn Sarah’s door off it’s hinges to argue with her. Now nothing in the world would persuade him to go to her, and yet if something wasn’t done, he would likely lose her trust forever. Not that there was much trust there in the first place..

There was nothing for it, she would have to go and try to explain things to Sarah. Joy of joys!

‘You owe me one, Jareth,’ she muttered, as she crept from her room.

* * *

Nobody had attempted to stop Sarah as she left the castle. There were plenty of Goblins around, but the stupid creatures just stared at her as she went past. It was relatively easy getting through the Goblin city, and before too long she found herself walking along a woodland path through the firey forest.

Eventually she came to a clearing with a large standing stone in the centre, and she stopped to rest for a while.

For the first time since she had left the castle, she started to feel worried, she was certain that she hadn’t seen anything like this stone the last time she was here, and she had no wish to become stranded in the forest.

Her stomach rumbled noisily, and she gritted her teeth against her hunger. It was late afternoon, she hadn’t eaten anything all day, and she did not have a coat or any form of protective clothing.

There was a chill in the air already, it was bound to get colder as the day drew to a close. Her emotions had been so highly charged when she left that she hadn’t thought this through properly. Mentally she berated herself for not even having the wit to bring the blanket from the bed. She would have to press on, and hope that she could find some shelter before nightfall.

* * *

Sovay padded down the hall to Sarah’s room, mentally preparing herself for a difficult time. Sarah was not the easiest person in the world to get along with, Sovay was well aware of the rift that had grown between them.

She raised her hand to knock, and paused, frowning, the door was slightly ajar.

‘Uh-oh...’ a feeling of foreboding gripped her as she knocked softly.

‘Sarah?’

No reply. Sovay pushed the door open and peered around.

‘Sarah?...’

She gasped as she recognised the dress folded on the bed.

It was too late after all, Sarah had gone.

Sovay spun around once to make sure she was not mistaken, even though the evidence was plain to see.

‘Fie and fiddlesticks!’ she swore. What in the Underground was she going to tell Jareth?

Slowly an idea began to form, as she stood motionless in the middle of the room.

She needn’t tell Jareth just yet, and in the meantime, she might be able to find Sarah and bring her back. If she could get control of her bloody heartbeast, she could fly out on a search for her.

Sovay’s hands shook as she opened the window, and she wondered if she knew what she was doing. She would have to learn how to control it sometime, and she needed the practise, however, she was still aching from her maiden flight.

What choice did she have? She desperately wanted Jareth to be happy, and that meant trying to redeem him in Sarah’s eyes.

Sarah would understand once she knew the truth, Sovay was certain.

Now then, how did this work?

Sovay closed her eyes, and concentrated with her entire being on that alien, birdlike part of her mind.

It stirred slightly, she could feel its presence awakening.

Suddenly, her whole body seemed to shimmer, twisting into impossible shapes as she shifted.

With a cry of triumph the black swan launched herself out of the window, spread her glorious iridescent wings and flew up, across the courtyard, over the sprawling towers of the castle, and out towards the Labyrinth, and the setting sun.

* * *

Sovay had more of an idea what to expect on her second flight, consequently she had more control over herself as she circled over the Labyrinth. Her enhanced sight picked out every little detail, every intricate carving, almost every leaf on the hedge maze. She methodically searched the hedge maze, the junk yard, she had even flown one pass over the bog, although she didn’t waste much time there - if Sarah had any sense she would not venture into the bog at nightfall, the smell wasn’t the only evil that dwelled there.

The sun had almost slipped over the horizon, darkness would soon be upon her, and there was still no sign of Sarah. Sovay fought hard against her fear, and concentrated on searching as fast as she could, the darkness was not her only obstacle - she was tiring rapidly, there was no time to waste.

The Labyrinth was vast, it could take days to search all of it, yet with the advantage of height, Sovay was fairly confident that there was nothing moving for a few miles, which could mean one of two things. Either Sarah had found cover somewhere, or she had never left the castle.

On her right the firey forest loomed, and she eyed it warily, it was the one place she hadn’t yet looked. The dense canopy of trees made it difficult to see what lay beneath, and there were plenty of places within the forest that Sarah could shelter.

Knowing that she wouldn’t be happy until she had checked at least the outskirts of the forest, Sovay swooped towards it’s gloomy depths, she would fly one last pass, then she would be forced to give up.

Disappointment rose in her chest - there was nothing. Sarah must have chosen a different path.

The first few stars twinkled near the horizon, it was getting quite dark now.

Sovay’s concentration was slipping, she could feel the beast waning in her mind and her human form struggling to take over; it was imperative that she find a place to land. Her wings felt like lead weights.

Wait, was that a movement between those trees? Sovay swung her head around hopefully, to catch a glimmer of white silk.

Sarah! Thank heavens.

It was lucky that she had changed into her wedding dress, if she had been wearing the forest green dress, Sovay would have missed her completely.

Branches whipped against her face, her body, her wings as she crashed headlong through the forest, cursing again and again as she got more and more battered. The trees had seemed harmless enough from above, yet several times during her descent she nearly impaled herself on a branch. This was dangerous! Swans were not built for woodland flight.

She managed to remain in bird form this time, as she landed somewhat heavily.

She looked up to see a rather bemused Sarah staring curiously down at her.

Sovay could hold the beast no longer, she shimmered and shifted form, took two steps forward, and collapsed to her knees, exhausted.

‘Jareth makes this look so damned easy...’ she muttered as her muscles gave out and she started to topple forward.

‘Sovay!’

Startled, Sarah caught the girl before she could hit the ground.

It had scared her at first to hear something large crashing through the trees towards her, and she had run for cover, expecting at any moment to feel the owl’s talons rake across her back.

The attack had never materialised, and Sarah risked a glance backwards, curious to see what could possibly be making so much noise. The last thing she had expected to see was a black swan coming in to land at her feet. She had looked on in astonishment as it had transformed, her astonishment turning to shock as it became apparent that Sovay was in trouble.

At least this went some way towards explaining Sovay’s injuries; she was obviously not very good at landing.

Did everybody turn themselves into birds in this place?

Sovay groaned as Sarah gently lowered her to the ground, turning her over to prop her up against a nearby tree.

She had really overdone it this time. Bright red spots of pain flashed in front of her eyes, and she struggled to catch her breath, thankful that Sarah had had the presence of mind to loosen her bodice.

‘Are you hurt?’ A gentle hand brushed a few stray strands of midnight hair from Sovay’s face.

She shook her head, smiling weakly up at Sarah’s concerned face.

‘No. Just exhausted.’

Sarah sat back, and let the girl catch her breath, regarding her solemnly.

‘Jareth sent you.’ Sarah’s voice was flat, unemotional.

Too calm.

‘No.’ Sovay gazed back at Sarah, her pale eyes reflecting the light from the rising moon.

‘Jareth knows nothing of this. At the moment he is too upset to care.’

Bitterness had crept in to Sovay’s voice. Try as she might, she couldn’t help herself. Sarah should know how much she had hurt him.

‘Fine.’ Sarah’s eyes flashed angrily.

‘You’ve wasted your time, Sovay. I’m not going back with you.’

‘Sarah, please listen ...’ Sovay placed a delicate hand on Sarah’s arm, her eyes pleading.

‘No, you listen to me, Sovay. Jareth can find some other pawn to amuse himself with. I am tired of his little games and I am sick of the way you idolise him. I will not be taken for a fool!’

She stood up and stalked off into the clearing.

Cursing, Sovay eased herself to her feet, and followed as best she could.

Sarah hadn’t gone very far, it was dark, and she was aware that Sovay was vulnerable, should there be anything in the forest inclined to attack them. The night was not getting any warmer, however, and Sarah found herself shivering.

‘I don’t think you’re a fool, Sarah.’ Sovay said quietly, as she came to stand behind her. She noticed the shivering and looked up in surprise. Sarah’s wedding dress was looking decidedly the worse for wear, and was not made to provide much in the way of warmth or comfort.

‘We should build a fire,’ Sovay suggested.

Sarah nodded, and silently they set about gathering wood, the tension between them slowly dissipating as they became engrossed in the task. Soon they had gathered a big enough pile of wood to make a substantial fire.

‘How are we going to light this?’ Sarah mused.

She needn’t have worried. Sovay bent over some dry leaves, muttered something under her breath, and in a moment flame seemed to leap from her fingers into the wood. A wide grin broke across Sarah’s face.

‘I didn’t know you could do magic!’

‘I’m not wonderful at it, but I’ve been around long enough to pick up some of the basics.’ Sovay smiled.

‘And calling the flame is very basic magic. Fire has existed everywhere at some point in time, all I did was make it remember it was here.’

Sarah shot her a puzzled glance, but said nothing, she was grateful for the heat, and drew closer to the blaze.

Sovay sat on the ground beside her, freshly exhausted just from gathering firewood. She gazed into the flames, uncertain quite what else to say. To her surprise, Sarah broke the silence.

‘Sovay, I’m sorry,’ she looked earnestly at her, dark eyes searching her face.

‘I know I’ve not been the easiest person to be around. Please understand that most of the time I’ve not really been angry with you, just at my situation.’

Sovay nodded, and looked gratefully at Sarah, an apology was the last thing she had expected. ‘I know,’ She said simply.

She was silent for a few moments, then, ‘Do I really idolise Jareth?’

Sarah snorted. ‘You should hear yourself! ‘King Jareth this, King Jareth that...’ Sarah narrowed her eyes.

‘Except that you didn’t use his title...’ her voice trailed off.

‘Hmmm?’ Sovay was distracted, poking at the fire with a stick.

‘Just now, you didn’t say ‘King Jareth.’, just ‘Jareth’... you did it earlier too.’

Sarah turned to face Sovay.

‘Come to think of it, you didn’t use his title this afternoon, either, when you were speaking to his face...’ she broke off, a slow realisation dawning across her face, along with fresh suspicion and anger.

‘It’s you, isn’t it?’ she pointed an accusing finger at the bewildered girl.

‘You’re his wife!’

A horrified expression passed briefly across Sovay’s face, and then much to Sarah’s surprise, she burst out laughing.

‘Oh, spare me! Spare me,’ she said in between fits of giggles, struggling to gain control of herself before Sarah’s anger boiled over.

‘No, Sarah. I’m not Jareth’s wife. Heaven forbid!’ she grinned.

‘I’m his half-sister.’

Stunned, Sarah looked afresh at her companion, searching for a resemblance.

There wasn’t much, perhaps the same shape to the eyes, a similar set to the mouth. Sovay was equally elegant, dainty, but then of course she was a Fae, it was only to be expected. And their temperaments couldn’t be further apart.

‘You deceived me!’ Sarah snapped.

‘No Sarah, I didn’t. Really.’ Pale eyes implored her to believe. ‘I only found out yesterday.’

Was it only yesterday? It seemed as though an eternity had passed since then.

Sovay explained everything that had happened, from the moment that Sarah had thrown Sovay out of her chambers, to the moment when she had regained consciousness to find Jareth interrogating Miss Myrtle, gratified that Sarah at least had the grace to look embarrassed at her actions.

Sarah let out a low whistle.

‘All that time, you lived below stairs, when you should have been a member of the Royal household. You must feel so cheated!’

‘Not really. I think my background will come in useful. Someone has to keep his High and Mightiness in touch with reality.’ Sarah shot her a surprised glance, and met Sovay’s amused grin.

‘That reminds me. I meant to thank you for what you did this afternoon, when you steered him away. I don’t think I would have survived another confrontation with him.’

Sovay looked gravely at her, all trace of humour gone.

‘Don’t thank me, Sarah. I didn’t do it for you.’

So there were still spikes to this relationship, despite every effort to be friendly, thought Sarah.

‘I did it because Jareth was tearing himself to pieces. You have no idea how much you hurt him.’

Sarah’s hackles rose.

‘And how exactly is it possible to hurt him, Sovay? He takes his pleasure from cruelty.’

In an instant, the easy friendliness that had existed between them had vanished.

Sovay’s eyes narrowed as she glared back at Sarah.

‘You cannot possibly say that. You know nothing about him.’

‘And you are the expert, I suppose, having discovered that he was your brother a whole day ago!’

Sovay’s expression was dangerous, her lips drawn into a thin line, and her eyes hard as steel. Suddenly the family resemblance was obvious.

‘Jareth might only have been my brother for one day, Sarah, but he’s been my King for years, and I’ve lived in his household all my life. I think I know him a damn sight better than you do!’

She took a deep breath.

‘Believe me, what you did today hurt him. He loves you so much, Sarah, and you constantly throw it back in his face. I’ll never know what the hell he sees in you!’

The silence between the two women was deafening. Aeons passed by in a few fleeting seconds. Sovay held her breath, prepared for a counterstrike, what in the Underground had possessed her to say something so hurtful?

She risked a glance at Sarah’s face, hating herself for the anguish she found there.

‘Sarah, I’m sorry. I was out of order. Please forget I said that.’ She got up and threw some fresh wood on the fire.

Sarah was not prepared to bury the hatchet quite so easily.

‘I’m not sorry I hurt Jareth, Sovay. The amount of pain he caused me this week, he deserves to be on the receiving end.’

Sovay nodded, mutely, gazing at something, some hidden emotion in Sarah’s eyes.

Could it be..?

‘What is Jareth to you, Sarah?’ she whispered.

It was there again, stronger this time. Sarah looked away.

‘Sarah?’ a slight smile played around the corners of Sovay’s mouth. She wasn’t mistaken.

‘Aha! So you do have some feelings for him?’

Sarah turned on her.

‘What if I do? There’s no point. He’s married.’

‘Yes. He is.’

Now Sarah’s expression was despairing, and Sovay’s heart skipped a beat. There was hope for Jareth, after all.

‘Tsk. Tsk. Sarah, You of all people should know that nothing is what it seems in this place. I’m surprised at you.’

Sarah looked up, a study in hope and confusion

‘What do you mean?’

‘Let me tell you a story. It’s a sorry little tale, and one which will probably shock you. Really speaking Jareth should be the one to tell it, as it involves him. However, he is not here, so you will have to make do with my version. Are you sitting comfortably?’

Sarah grinned despite herself.

‘Good. It begins thus; Once upon a time the Underground was split into seven kingdoms. Each the domain of a different race, and each ruled over by a king and his household....’

Neither girl saw the owl as it landed in a nearby tree. It shook its wings, ruffled its feathers, and settled itself down, gazing with interest at the scene below.

It appeared for all the world to be listening intently to the story.

* * *

The delicate lines of Sovay’s otherworldly features were picked out in the rosy firelight, while silvery moonlight played like a halo around her shining black hair. Sarah listened spellbound as she recounted her tale, knowing that this was no mere legend, rather an account of the recent history of the Underground.

‘Once upon a time the Realm of the Underground was split into seven kingdoms.

Each the domain of a different race, and each ruled over by a king and his household.

And the people were fair and proud, and each kingdom prospered; the realm was blessed and bountiful, travellers came from all over Arcadia to visit the Seven Kingdoms, and enjoy the hospitality of their people.

And the land was beautiful, the most pleasant Realm in all of Arcadia.

Now King Ulraeth was the troll king and his kingdom lay to the south, in the Black Mountains. His realm did not possess much in the way of magic, for his people did not have need of it, they worked their own Earth magic, creating wondrous artefacts out of the very ground to trade and barter with the other realms.

Yet when Ulraeth saw the beautiful magic being woven by the other races of the Fae, he became ashamed that his people did not possess such power. He coveted it, the lack of knowledge tormented him until one day he could take it no longer.

He persuaded a powerful Magus to teach him, so that he might impart the secret of magic to his people.

And the Magus complied with his wishes, and taught the secret of magic to the King of the Trolls, in return for hospitality and a few silver trinkets. Sadly Ulraeth’s people, being trolls, lacked the intrinsically magical ability to wield anything of any great power. Gradually Ulraeth became jealous of the races of the Sidhe who possessed full magic, and his jealousy ate away at him, like a madness, until he was forced to act.

He started slowly at first, sending his trolls over the border into the neighbouring Goblin kingdom. Three villages were ransacked, their people fled in terror as their homes burned to the ground. Ulraeth followed with more skirmishes, forcing his way deeper and deeper into the Goblin kingdom.

The Goblin King, Gorias the Silver, was incensed that Ulraeth could attack so easily and without warning, and petitioned the Seelie Court for help in defeating the Troll, but he was refused help - he could not prove that the skirmishes on his borders were anything other than bandits or outlaws.

Afraid for the safety of his subjects, he spent considerable time and money constructing the Labyrinth, a vast sprawling defence structure which he filled with traps, brutal devices designed to kill trolls. The Goblin city layat it’s centre, providing a safe haven in a time of need....’

Jareth shook his head sadly, what fabrication was this? Surely Sovay didn’t believe this rubbish?

‘.....the Trolls increased their attacks, concentrating their efforts on the Goblin Kingdom, because it was the smallest of the seven, it was weakening, and they knew that they would soon have control.

We retaliated by hurling powerful magic at the trolls, to this day you can still see the evidence of this terrible war; the Bog is a place that was touched with War magic.

King Gorias was getting desperate, the trolls were strong, they outnumbered the Goblins and were superior warriors. There was no possibility of a Goblin army ever defeating these creatures, and yet none of the neighbouring kingdoms would step in to help, they were all fearful of a counter-attack.

Eventually, King Gorias forced an alliance between the Goblins and their neighbouring kingdom by arranging a marriage between his eldest son, the crown prince Jareth, and the princess Merla of the Taelern Elfin.

With the support of the Elfin, Gorias finally possessed the means to defeat the Trolls.

There was one final battle between the kingdoms, a devastating conflict during which King Gorias lost his life at the hands of a troll. Jareth became the Goblin King, and the combined Goblin/Elfin army finally overthrew the traitorous trolls and banished them from the realm....’

‘What a heroic story.’

Jareth’s voice cut through the darkness, making both girls start nervously.

He came out of the shadows on the far side of their fire, dressed beautifully in greys and silvers. Flickering firelight played across his features, making him appear particularly malevolent.

His eyes were in shadow, no hint of an expression, nothing except for the occasional reflected glow from the flames.

Jareth had a way of making even the most innocent silence seem filled with tension. Sarah felt the hairs standing up on the back of her hand, her skin prickling with the familiar goosebumps that happened whenever he was near. Jareth stood regarding Sovay for a few long moments, a gloved finger tapping his lips theatrically, before appearing to come to some kind of decision.

‘A heroic story indeed. Such a pity that it bears no resemblance to the truth...’

Slowly, slowly, he circled the fire, never taking his eyes off Sovay, ignoring Sarah completely. Eventually he came to stand beside his sister, and looked down at her as she sat on the ground.

‘You have a right to know the truth, Sovay. Gorias was your father, as well as mine. Would you care to hear it?’

She nodded, staring mutely up at him.

‘Very well.’

To Sarah’s astonishment, Jareth dropped to the ground in one fluid movement, kneeling in front of the fire as he pulled a crystal out of the shadows. One flick of his wrist, and it had transformed into a wine skin. Several seconds later, he had materialised three silver goblets, and poured a generous measure of red wine for everyone. In spite of this apparent generosity, he still made no effort to acknowledge Sarah, handing her goblet instead to Sovay to pass on. Sovay and Sarah exchanged glances, this deliberate cold shoulder treatment sent out a very plain message to both women - Jareth was still furious with her.

Finally he stretched one leg out in front of himself, brought his other knee up to his chest and draped his arm casually over it, looking for all the world as though sitting on the damp forest floor in all his finery was something he did every day.

Long moments passed while Jareth stared moodily into the flames, yet neither woman dared speak, there was something about his attitude that demanded silence.

When he eventually started talking his voice was low, and full of emotion.

Sarah realised with a shock that it was taking a hell of a lot for him to bring himself to tell the story.

‘I warn you, Sovay. The story I have to tell you is not pleasant. Our heritage is hardly anything to be proud of.’

He paused briefly to look sideways at her, before continuing; ‘My father was a tyrant.’

Sovay gasped, about to protest.

Jareth silenced her with a look.

‘I warned you this was not pleasant, Sovay. Hear me out.’

He gulped down a large swig of wine, and continued.

‘It was not the trolls who attacked first. My father thought to expand the kingdom somewhat by invading the neighbouring lands. He recruited mercenaries, desperate men who would do anything for a price, and waged war first with the Trolls, and then the Taelern Elfin. He built the Labyrinth for protection, for he was a coward at heart, and was terrified that he would be attacked in retaliation for his evil deeds. His greed and lust for power were boundless. The trolls were not renowned for their magical abilities, and recruited a magus to help them ward off the magical attacks. The atrocities they suffered at my father’s hands...’

Jareth shook his head, and closed his eyes. For several uncomfortable moments the only sound was the crackling of the fire.

‘I reached a point where I could not sit idly by and watch any longer, yet I could not act at once. I had to build up a loyal band of followers. Believe me, it was not easy winning people’s trust in the shadow of my father’s abominable acts. Despite this, I managed to build up quite a formidable army. We were recruiting from every village, every settlement that he violated, and we met in secret gaining strength from week to week.

Nonetheless, we did not have the power to overthrow him, and even the magical adepts amongst our ranks were no match for his combined forces. We needed help, and fast.’

Jareth paused to refill his goblet, and offer the wine around. Unwanted memories of that atrocious time filed through his head, the murders, the rapes, the torture of innocents. None of the races had been safe, not Fae, goblin, elfin or troll. He shuddered, and continued; ‘I petitioned The Taelern Elfin for help. They had been suffering badly, and I thought that I would find many allies within their ranks. They did not trust me, however, I was their enemy, and they would not come to my aid. I needed their help badly, the trolls had all but scattered for the hills, if the Elfin were defeated, my father and his evil followers would continue their rampage towards the dwarves, and other kingdoms. So I sought out the princess Merla and asked her to marry me. She was a childhood friend, she trusted me, and she could bring the Elfin to our ranks.’

Sarah’s heart missed a beat as Jareth looked directly at her, meeting her eyes for the first time since he had joined them at the fire.

‘Marriage is the quickest form of alliance, especially during a war,’ he held her gaze for several long seconds before looking away.

‘Ironically, I had my father’s blessing for the wedding. He knew nothing of the resistance, and was under the impression that he would get his hands on the Elfin kingdom through me. Not so.

We met him on the fields of Xanjea, one final terrible battle, that would decide his fate once and for all.’

Jareth paused, and gazed into the fire, as visions of the battle washed over him, memories that he had long buried rose to the fore. He saw his father bearing down on him, eyes like that of a madman, sword raised ready to strike. Remembered striking back, three swift strokes. His father’s blood soaking into the ground, even as he held his decapitated head aloft for the ranks to see.

‘I killed him,’ he whispered.

Sovay glanced at her brother’s face, but there was no anguish, no hint of remorse, just pure hatred. She placed her hand gently on his arm, and he smiled weakly, grateful for the distraction.

‘I cut him down in cold blood with an iron sword. I used a glamoury, so that the ranks would not recognise me, most of them thought they saw a troll. My father was the only person on that battlefield who knew it was I that caused his demise, for I made sure that he would see through the spell. We buried him in an unmarked grave.’

He sighed and took another long swig of wine, finishing his glass.

‘So there you have it. Not a pleasant tale.’

He looked thoughtfully at his half sister.

‘Miss Myrtle was trying to protect me from further disgrace. I am sorry to say that you are probably the result of a rape, Sovay.’

She nodded. ‘I thought as much,’ was all she said.

Another awkward silence descended on the three as they sat gazing at the fire.

Sarah was struggling hard with her emotions, and when she glanced at Sovay’s face, she could see bright tear tracks glistening in the firelight.

Jareth had obviously upset her with that last comment, he had been too insensitive, too callous. Even if he had a lot on his mind, there was no excuse for him to hurt Sovay.

Sarah glanced up, annoyed, and gasped. He had gone, vanished silently into the shadows without saying goodbye. She rolled her eyes to the heavens and cursed him, putting arm around Sovay’s shoulders, to sooth her as she sobbed quietly into the night.

* * *

The two women sat together for a long time, leaning on each other for comfort and warmth, their differences forgotten for the moment. Neither felt much like talking. Occasionally one of them would get up to throw more wood onto the fire, for the night had turned very cold.

Sovay rested her head on Sarah’s shoulders, and eventually sank into a fitful sleep, her body had taken as much as it could endure for one day.

Sarah remained awake for a long time, hungry, cold and emotionally wrung out.

She felt extremely vulnerable, and was quite glad that Sovay was sleeping, she could not cope with more antagonism, and knew that if Sovay so much as looked at her the wrong way she would break down. Jareth’s story had touched her deeply, she felt wretched as all her assumptions about him had been shattered. He had answered some of her questions, while simultaneously posing more. What had happened to Merla? From what Sovay had said, he was still married to her, yet he had only briefly mentioned her name. Sarah became determined to find out, and would make a point of asking Sovay when she awoke.

* * *

Jareth sat in his study, unable to sleep, unable to concentrate, every time he closed his eyes fresh images of bloodied battlefields played in his mind. It had taken him years to build up his defences against the nightmares, tonight he had been forced to face them again, and now they refused to leave him. He had known that he would suffer this, yet Sovay had left him little choice - her version of events had been wildly inaccurate.

Had he stayed any longer at the fireside he would not have been able to keep his composure, so he had left rather abruptly, trading company for dignity. A bitter, self-mocking smile passed across his face, company would perhaps have been the better option.

His hand paused midair as he reached for his goblet, hovered, then fell to the table as he changed his mind, he wanted to keep his wits tonight.

Leaning forward, he rested his head on his arms, gazing sideways out across the dingy room, staring, eyes wild in the candlelight, reading every title of every book on his bookshelf, counting the cracks in the stone wall, the threads in the tapestry - anything to stop himself from thinking.

Restless, he got up and stood looking out across the courtyard. He toyed with the idea of going up to the Solar to gaze at the stars, but eventually decided against it; the way he felt tonight, that would only serve to remind him of how desperately lonely he was.

More than anything he wished Sarah was at his side.

There was perhaps one person he could turn to who would not turn him away, who would understand. She had been at his side throughout the nightmare, after all. Had suffered nightmares of her own.

Merla.

With a heavy heart, Jareth moved away from the window, crossed the room and opened the door to his chambers. Black would suit his sombre mood. He changed quickly, selecting his most elaborate frock coat and livery; appearances were of utmost importance when visiting neighbouring kingdoms.

Gloved hands traced an elaborate sequence in the air, he muttered an incantation under his breath. Slowly a shimmering portal formed, rippling, crackling with silvery sparks. Jareth waited a few seconds for it to solidify, then stepped neatly through.

*

He emerged in a cobbled courtyard outside a large manor house, and looked around in awe, the place had changed considerably since he was last here, although it was still heart wrenchingly beautiful, even by moonlight. The Taelern Elfin were truly masters of all things aesthetic. The house was all graceful curves and elaborate wrought silver filigree. Aboveground it would have considered been a masterpiece of Art Nouveau architecture, yet it lacked the clumsiness of any mortal design. A towering porch led to the great double doorway, intricately carved with scrolls, flowers, birds and trees. It was a far cry from the dark gothic lines and leering gargoyles of the Goblin castle.

Jareth knocked on the doors three times with his staff, and waited.

‘Who goes there?’

A small shutter was pulled back, and a bleary-eyed wizened elfin face peered out, eyes widening in shock as they recognised Jareth.

‘Your Highness, forgive me, I did not realise...’

There came the sound of bolts being drawn back, hastily, and the door swung inwards. Jareth strode into the main hall, to be greeted by the old butler.

‘Good Evening, Your Highness, please come this way.’

This was civilised, Jareth reflected. He really should think about employing a manservant.

The elfin showed him through into a small antechamber, and bid him wait while he informed his mistress that she had a visitor. He returned shortly, with a carefully neutral expression, and led Jareth up several flights of stairs, where once again he bid him wait, outside an elaborately carved door.

‘Might I remind your Ladyship, that the drawing room would be more appropriate for receiving guests?’

The butler’s slightly disapproving voice drifted out to Jareth, followed by a low laugh.

‘I’m not standing on ceremony in the middle of the night, Joal. King Jareth is still my husband, he has every right to enter my bedchamber if he so wishes.’

Jareth smiled at that. Dear Merla, she hadn’t changed.

The door opened, and the butler indicated that he should enter, bowed once and shut the door behind himself on his way out.

‘Well, well, and to what do we owe this honour?’

Merla sat up in bed, her nightgown pulled around her. Her expression bore no hint of anger or disapproval despite the unconventional visiting hour, if anything she looked faintly amused.

Petite, fine boned, Merla possessed all the classical elfin features - high cheekbones, large blue eyes, delicately pointed ears. Fine lines around her eyes gave a warmth to her expression; here was a lady who laughed often. She toyed with a strand of her waist length blond hair as she looked curiously at Jareth.

By her side, with a somewhat startled look on his face, sat her consort, Lord Kalrassan. He was bare chested, his strong masculine features harsher and more angular than Merla’s, yet still unmistakably elfin.

‘Would you prefer it if I left?’ He asked, his voice deep and resonant.

Jareth looked at him in surprise.

‘No, Kal. Don’t leave on my account. I came here hoping to find company tonight...’

Merla looked at Jareth in concern, noting for the first time the shadows under his eyes, the haunted look to his face..

‘Jareth, are you alright? You don’t look well...’ her voice trailed off as

Jareth sat down heavily on the end of the bed, despair and heartache showing clearly on his face.

He closed his eyes, and shook his head, tight-lipped.

One simple query about his welfare, and his emotions threatened to take him to the brink of tears.

Nobody ever asked him if he was alright.

Ever.

His hands went up to clutch at his head, pulling desperately at his hair in a vain bid to stop the building tension.

‘No.’

‘No. I am not alright.’

His voice was ragged, and he was shaking.

‘Heavens, Jareth!’ Merla was out of bed like a shot, arms outstretched, reaching for him.

‘Kal, be a dear and fetch the brandy.’

Kal was already moving, having had much the same thought himself. Jareth gave the appearance of being a man on the edge.

‘What on Earth’s the matter?’

Merla pulled him close, standing in front of him as he sat on the bed, cradling his head to her shoulders, gently brushing the strands of hair from his face. He let her fuss him, needing the comfort, drawing strength from her embrace, until he reached a safe level of calm. Then, and only then did he meet her concerned gaze.

‘We did the right thing, Merla, didn’t we? All those years ago?’ he whispered.

She didn’t hesitate

‘Of course we did, and I would do it again if I was faced with the same terror.

You would too, I know you would.’

‘You don’t regret...’

‘I have never regretted marrying you, Jareth.’

‘And Kalrassan?’

‘Kal understands, he always did. After all, he has always been my Lord. Heaven knows, he’s waited for me these past twenty years, what is one more year to him? He knows that I am going to wed him as soon as I am free to do so.’

Her brow furrowed, and she gazed worriedly at him.

‘This is not like you, Jareth. There’s more to this than a few doubts about the past, isn’t there?’

He nodded, meeting her gaze.

‘I finally told someone else about Xanjea. About how I murdered Gorias. It’s been haunting me all night, I can’t get the images out of my mind.’

Merla’s expression grew stern, and she took hold of Jareth’s shoulders, forcing him to look at her.

‘Now stop that! You are not a murderer. You did what you had to do. We’ve been through this before; if you hadn’t killed him, then I would have. You know that’

Kal returned with the brandy. Merla drew away from Jareth, and placed a glass in

his hand.

‘Here. You look as though you need this.’

He accepted gratefully, sipping slowly at the amber liquid, letting its warmth soothe his frazzled nerves. This past week had been almost too much to bear.

‘Who did you tell?’

Jareth glanced up from his glass, into her expressive, curious eyes. He sighed.

‘This week I discovered that I have a half sister. A bastard child, born to one of the kitchen maids. She has been hidden belowstairs for years...’

He recounted the tale of how Sovay discovered her heartbeast.

‘A black swan..?’ Merla was impressed.

‘I’ll warrant her mother was no ordinary kitchen maid, either. How did she cope, finding out about Gorias?’

‘I don’t know. I couldn’t bear to stay any longer.’

He wiped a weary hand across his face. Merla stared at him in exasperation, he could be so insensitive at times.

‘Jareth! You didn’t just leave her after telling her all this...?’

There was a disapproving edge to her voice.

‘She’ll be alright. Sarah is with her.’

‘Sarah? ...Sarah! You mean...?’ Merla’s large blue eyes shone hopefully at him.

Jareth took a deep shuddering breath.

‘No. It’s not what you might think. I acted foolishly...’ Jareth stopped mid sentence, reluctant to go into details.

‘...never mind, it was a mistake on my part. Sarah has outstayed her welcome, I shall be sending her home tomorrow. The time has come for me to forget her, however hard that might be.’

He looked away.

‘I’m sorry, Jareth.’

Merla squeezed his hand briefly. He had confided in her long ago about his love for Sarah. Indeed, she and Kal had been present at the ball, and witnessed how totally captivated Jareth had been with his mortal girl. She had often wondered how Sarah could possibly have missed the love that had shone from his eyes that night.

‘It is of little importance.’

Even as he spoke the words he knew that Merla could see right through the lie.

‘Don’t give me that, Jareth. I’ve known you too long. Do you think I can’t tell that you are hurting? Save the heartless Goblin King charade for your loyal subjects.’

Merla was perhaps the only person he had ever allowed to see his weaknesses.

They had shared so much pain, so much desperation and grief, had been thrown together by the direst circumstances. She had seen him in far worse anguish than this, yet through it all, she had always been a true friend, as constant as the sun.

Lord Kalrassan had been her first and only love, he had been bitterly disappointed when Merla had broken the news that she was to marry Jareth, and yet he had not stood in their way, understanding the arrangement for what it was, an alliance, nothing more.

True, he had objected to their wedding night together, until Merla pointed out that it was a legal requirement that the wedding be consummated, and that as this was a Royal marriage, the elder council would have to be present to witness the event as required by Elfin law.

Jareth had got Kal roaring drunk, and ensured that he was safely asleep before taking his new wife to bed in front of seven elderly scribes. He smiled wryly to himself. Now there was a night he would never forget, or wish to experience again.

A yawn surfaced unexpectedly, it had been a long day, and the alcohol was starting to make him drowsy. He shook his head and tried to concentrate on what Merla was saying.

‘Talk to me, Jareth. Let me help you.’

Again, her kindness threatened to overwhelm him.

‘You are helping me, both of you.’ Jareth glanced over at Kal, who seemed to be shifting in and out of focus.

‘I’ll be fine by the morning, I just needed... needed company tonight... there were far too many nightmares... far too many... mightnares... faces... yes... you were the only person... the only one... not even... not even Sarah....’

His voice was low and some of his words were slurred. He smiled brightly and gazed at Merla through heavy lidded eyes, unsure quite what he had said, yet convinced that he had spoken coherently.

‘You know that we will always be here for you, Jareth.’

Merla said gently. Kal nodded an affirmation.

At the sound of his name, Jareth’s head snapped up, had she been talking to him?

‘Come on,’ she laughed as she took his arm.

‘You’re almost asleep. We can talk more tomorrow.’

Kal took his other arm and they pulled him to his feet. Together the Elfin couple walked the drowsy Goblin King down the hallway and into a spare room. He did not protest as they removed his coat and boots and laid him on the bed. Merla shot an amused glance at Kal as they closed the door quietly, Jareth’s faint snores were already audible.

‘Enchanted brandy.’ Kal explained.

‘He looked as though he needed the rest. He will sleep well tonight at least, poor fellow.’

Merla nodded approvingly, and drew Kal into a tight hug.

‘Yes, poor Jareth. Life has not treated him kindly.’

* * *

No matter how she tried, Merla could not sleep, she lay wide awake, fretting about Jareth. It was so unlike him to admit that he was in trouble, let alone allow his emotions to run him ragged.

She had not seen him quite this wretched since that fateful night almost nine years ago when Sarah had rejected him.

And there the problem lay; Sarah was back, and surprise surprise, Jareth was an emotional wreck again. Merla was no fool, she knew well enough that Jareth’s current state of mind was as much to do with Sarah as it was to do with re-living the horrors of the past. Even Kal had sensed his underlying anguish, whatever had passed between Jareth and Sarah recently had not been a happy experience.

Then there was Sovay. How must she be feeling, having discovered how evil her father was? That was a heavy burden to bear. Merla was concerned enough to want to check.

Moving quietly so that she would not disturb Kal, she climbed out of bed, pulling her robe tightly around herself against the chill of the night. She lit a candle and moved to the wash stand, quietly filling the bowl with cold water from the ornate jug which stood on the side. Her expression became more intense, more alert as she concentrated on her scrying technique. A delicate hand passed across the surface of the water, creating tiny ripples in its wake.

‘Show me Sovay.’ She commanded.

The ripples spread out from the centre of the bowl, folding back upon themselves until the surface of the water was perfectly still, and a faint image began to form.

What was this? Trees? Merla squinted to try to make sense of the picture. Then suddenly it fell into place, two women lay on the forest floor, huddled close together, near the dying embers of a fire. Merla recognised Sarah at once, so the other dark haired woman must be Sovay. What in the Underground were they doing outdoors in the middle of the night?

‘Kal? Kal, wake up.’ she shook him gently.

‘Whsphsat?’ Kal opened bleary eyes to stare at her.

‘Get up, get up... quickly, I need your help.’

‘What is it?’ He had caught the edge to her voice, and snapped himself awake suddenly.

‘Look.’ she pointed at her impromptu scrying pool.

* * *

Pain and cold battered their way into Sovay’s consciousness as she awoke slowly, her body stiff from sleeping in such an awkward position, and protesting loudly about her earlier abuse. It felt as though all the muscles in her chest and upper arms had been severed. She groaned and tried to sit up, sending an icy blast of chill night air into the warm space between her body and Sarah’s.

‘Oooooh’ Sarah shivered and pulled Sovay back to fit the gap, making her almost scream with the pain of sharp movement.

They clutched at each other, shivering, trying desperately to warm each other up.

‘The forest is very beautiful this time of year, but I can think of better places to make my bed.’ A cheerful resonant voice rang through the glade, startling both women.

Sarah peered into the darkness, the faint glow from the fire was just enough to illuminate the shape of a person, but it was way too dark to make out any features.

‘Who’s there?’ She asked, her voice shaking with the cold.

‘Lord Kalrassan at your service, milady... now hold still, let’s get you into the warm.’

Kal encircled both women with his arms, muttered something briefly under his breath, and suddenly the ground lurched alarmingly, and the forest faded from sight.

A delicious blast of warm air greeted them as they materialised in a brightly lit room. As Sarah’s eyes gradually adjusted to the light, she made out racks upon racks of gleaming copper pots and pans hanging from hooks around the walls. A roaring fire provided most of the light, it was crackling merrily away in a large fireplace complete with roasting spits, and an elaborately carved chimney breast. The effect was of a cosy, homely kitchen, much smaller than the vast one at Jareth’s castle. She barely had time to register all this before a blanket was thrown around her shoulders, and she pulled it close, glad of the warmth.

A steaming mug of hot - something - was thrust into her hands.

‘Here, sip this, it will warm you up.’

The fumes rising from the mug were potent indeed, fruity and alcoholic. Sarah looked up in wonder into the large deep blue eyes of the ruggedly handsome face grinning back at her. An earthly leonine face, with wide cheekbones, a slightly pointed chin, and a curtain of shoulder length deep blonde hair. It’s features unmistakably masculine, yet like so many of the Fae, still possessing a delicate quality. Not quite the ethereal beauty that was Jareth, yet still good looking enough to turn heads.

‘ ‘tis only mulled wine, nothing to be afraid of.’ he explained, as he ladled out another mug and handed it to theshivering Sovay. He winked at Sarah, and she grinned back at him, he had such a friendly face, she felt immediately at ease in his presence.

‘Thank you for rescuing us.’ Sarah smiled gratefully. Kal acknowledged her with the briefest nod.

‘Did Jareth send you?’ Sovay asked

‘Not exactly...’

Kal would have said more, but at that moment the door opened, and Sarah turned to see a petite blonde elfin woman enter, dressed in a floor length night-gown and burgundy robe. Small as she was, her commanding presence filled the entire room, even in her night clothes she moved with such confidence and poise that left Sarah in no doubt that she was in the presence of royalty. This lady had the same arrogance as Jareth, the same absolute conviction that she would be obeyed, yet carried it off with a humour and warmth that made her a lot more likeable.

‘Good evening, ladies.’ She smiled.

‘You are both quite welcome here. Please make yourselves at home. I am not going to ask why you had taken it upon yourselves to sleep out in the forest in this weather - that story can wait until we have all rested. However, I have arranged for hot baths to be drawn for both of you, and I have laid out fresh clothes in your chambers.

First, though, you must get warm gradually. It’s not a good idea to immerse yourselves straight into hot water after being exposed to the cold for so long.’

She looked directly at Sovay.

‘My husband tells me that you are his half-sister?’

Sovay nodded, still shivering.

‘Well then, you will have had quite a few shocks this evening. Jareth is perhaps not the easiest person to talk to, so should you wish to ask any questions, or have any worries, you are welcome to seek me out.’

As Sovay was mumbling her thanks, the elfin princess turned to face Sarah, and held out her hand.

‘Sarah, I do hope we can be friends. Jareth has often mentioned you.’

Sarah stared in shock at the hand of friendship held out to her. This was Jareth’s wife? This was Merla? She couldn’t stop the pang of jealousy that clawed at her stomach.

An awkward silence descended between the two women.

‘I can see that we need to talk’ Merla smiled, and lowered her outstretched hand.

‘Not tonight, though - It’s late, you both need your rest, and I am just about ready to drop. Let me at least show you to your rooms.’

‘Just a minute.’ Sarah’s low voice cut through the air like a knife. Sovay caught her breath, and Merla spun around to face her, one eyebrow raised quizzically.

‘Where’s Jareth? And why have you brought us here?’

‘Jareth is currently sleeping off the effects of some enchanted brandy, administered by my lord Kal. I don’t expect him to surface much before midday tomorrow. And I brought you here because I couldn’t let you freeze out there in the forest all night. I will explain further in the morning, but right now I am suffering severely from lack of sleep, and when I lose sleep I get irritable, as Kal here can probably testify.’

Kal nodded his head in an exaggerated movement, as he came to stand next to Merla, slipping his arm around her waist.

‘Oh, yes indeed. Even I tiptoe around milady here if she hasn’t had her beauty sleep...’ He grinned at the astonished Sarah.

‘Not that she needs it, of course.’ he added hastily, as Merla gave him a black look, before turning her attention back to the two women.

‘Come along then, we may even stand a chance of getting some sleep before dawn.

Go bathe and rest, and we shall speak more tomorrow.’

Merla turned on her heels and left the room, clearly expecting everyone to follow, which they duly did.

* * *

Once in the privacy of their chambers, Merla snuggled close to Kal, and grinned wickedly up at him.

‘I’ve just had the most fantastic idea.’

Kal looked down at her eager face, and groaned.

‘Oh no. I know that look, you’re plotting the downfall of some poor unsuspecting....’

She poked him in the ribs.

‘Nothing so terrible.’ She grinned, her eyes shining with excitement at her plan.

‘While Jareth and Sarah are both under our roof, we should really try to give them a helping hand...’

Kal let out a long suffering sigh.

‘And how do you propose to do that?’

‘Easy. It’s the Taelern Ball at the end of the week. I’ll just have to make sure that they are both there. I already sent Jareth his invitation, so he has no excuse not to attend.’

‘Merla....’ Kal voice had taken on a warning tone.

‘Besides, it would be the perfect opportunity for Jareth to introduce Sovay to the Seelie Court.’ She continued, pleased with this new direction.

‘Did your mother never teach you the perils of playing with fire?’ Kal’s stern voice broke through her enthusiasm.

She pouted prettily.

‘Come on, Kal, you know how besotted he is with the girl, and you saw how desperately unhappy he was this evening. Jareth just needs a shove in the right direction, surely you can see that?’

She ran her fingers through his hair, and looked up at him in her most persuasive manner.

‘Hmmm. I’m not sure he needs you meddling in his affairs, Merla. You heard him say he would be sending Sarah back Aboveground tomorrow. Doesn’t that suggest that he has perhaps already tried, and failed to win the lady’s affections?’

Merla snorted. ‘You know what Jareth is like. They have probably argued over some misunderstanding. Even though it would cost him dearly, he would most likely send her back before he would ever swallow enough of his pride to actually try and talk things through. Heaven knows there have been times in the past when even I haven’t been able to talk to him, and I know him well enough to tell him when he’s being a fool. What chance has Sarah of trying to reason with him?’

‘You have no evidence to support your argument, no matter how persuasive. The truth is, you don’t know what has happened between those two, and you shouldn’t leap to conclusions.’ Kal reasoned.

‘And what of Sarah, doesn’t she have a say in this? I know you want Jareth to be happy, beloved, but what if his feelings for the mortal are not reciprocated?’

Kal squeezed her shoulder, gazing sadly at her crestfallen expression. ‘You hadn’t thought about that, had you?’ he said gently.

‘I’ll talk to Sarah, I’ll find out whether or not she has feelings for Jareth.

If she does, will you help me?’ She asked hopefully.

Kal lifted his eyes to the heavens in mock exasperation.

‘What if it backfires on you? Jareth is an old friend and a close ally. Is it really worth testing his friendship and trust? You know what a temper he has, I for one would not care to cross him.’

‘It would be worth it just to see him happy. He can’t go on for much longer like he was this evening. How many years has it been, Kal, since Jareth has really been himself? How many years since we heard him laugh?’

Kal’s expression was one of concern now, as he gazed lovingly into her face.

‘I just don’t want to see anyone get hurt, Merla. Not Jareth, not Sarah, and least of all you. Please ask yourself if it is worth pursuing before you get too carried away.’

Merla rolled into Kal’s embrace, and leaned over to snuff out the candle.

She lay still for a long while, as she felt him relax against her, his breathing becoming more regular as sleep started to claim him.

‘Yes, it would definitely be worth it...’ She whispered.

Kal heard her whisper, yet said nothing, he had learned long ago that once his lady set her mind on something, there was little he could do to stop her. He just hoped that this time she wouldn’t lose a dear friend through her good intentions.

* * *

The next morning dawned bright and clear, and Sarah awoke for the first time since she arrived Underground feeling rested and refreshed. The warm bath had soothed her frayed nerves and helped her to relax before she slept, and her bed had been soft and comfortable, not hard and scratchy like the bed in the Goblin castle.

She rose somewhat reluctantly, and crossed the room to draw the heavy drapes and let in the pale autumn sunlight, then stood staring in wonder at the view before her.

A lawn, green and luxurious, stretched out in front of the house, flanked by an avenue of trees, their leaves displaying glorious autumn hues. In the distance Sarah could just see the glint of water from an ornamental lake. There were a few statues dotted amongst the trees, and an ornate summer house tucked away in a secluded corner of the garden. Sarah let her eyes drink in the verdant beauty, this place was good for the soul.

Eventually she tore herself away and started to get dressed, folding her borrowed nightgown neatly and laying it on the bed. The clothes that had been selected for her fitted her well, and smelled clean and fresh, although at first Sarah had been apprehensive about wearing such fine garments. They consisted of a pale gold under robe, perfectly complemented by a beautiful deep blue overdress, made from fabric too finely woven to have been spun by any mortal hand. Gold thread embroidery picked out a delicate leaf pattern around the plunging neckline and flowing houplelande sleeves. Simple tie fastenings at the side seams and a long cord belt made the garment easy to wear and surprisingly comfortable, and Sarah twirled once in front of the full length mirror, pleased with her transformation. She looked like a princess, and little wonder, considering where the garments had come from.

Sarah narrowed her eyes, she was still uncertain quite what to make of Merla.

She had been quick to offer her friendship, and had been kind enough to take herself and Sovay in out of the cold. And there lay the problem, Sarah had not envisioned Jareth’s wife as a friend. Kal was another enigma, Merla had been very familiar with him, too familiar for someone who was supposed to be married. So Merla was having an affair, and Jareth obviously wasn’t bothered. Quite the reverse in fact - hadn’t Merla said something about Kal giving Jareth the enchanted brandy?

The whole situation still left Sarah with the uneasy feeling that she was being made a fool of, she had obviously missed the point somewhere, and nobody had thought to enlighten her.

Well enough was enough, it was time somebody gave her some answers. She would go

to Sovay, and find out exactly what kind of relationship existed between Jareth and his wife.

With a determined expression, Sarah sneaked out of her room and into the hallway, glancing briefly in both directions, vaguely aware that Sovay had been shown to the room next to hers.

She crept down the corridor and knocked lightly on Sovay’s door, moving as quietly as she could to avoid awakening the entire household - there didn’t appear to be anyone else up. There was no immediate reply, so Sarah knocked again, slightly more urgently.

Still no reply.

Sarah hesitated, she should really try later when Sovay was more likely to be awake, on the other hand she needed to talk to somebody before she ran into Merla again. Taking a gamble that Sovay would understand, she turned the handle and slipped into the room, pausing only to pull her long skirts through and close the door quietly behind her.

She had taken three steps towards the bed before she realised.

This was not Sovay’s room.

Sarah froze.

‘Wrong-oh’ she said softly, as the colour drained from her face.

There on top of the bed covers, dressed only in a shirt and breeches, lay the lightly sleeping form of the Goblin King.

All Sarah’s instincts screamed at her to leave the room now, to creep quietly away before he awoke, yet she couldn’t. She was rooted to the spot, totally mesmerised by his beauty and the unexpected thrill of finding him so... so... vulnerable.

She stood transfixed, her heart beating so wildly that she thought it might jump out of her chest. Part of her welcomed this opportunity to look closely at Jareth without being subjected to his mocking smile or piercing gaze, and she inadvertently took a step closer, captivated and curious.

Jareth lay on his back, one hand resting on his chest, the other dangling over the side of the bed. Even asleep he was elegant, devastatingly so. He looked smaller somehow, delicate and fragile, his skin as translucent as fine porcelain. With his eyes closed he was much less intimidating, Sarah realised, yet there was more to this than mere intimidation. Jareth usually gave the impression of being totally self-aware, every movement, every expression, every action carefully considered and planned out. To find him so completely relaxed was unexpected and quite shocking.

Sarah edged closer. She could hear him breathing, could see the slight rise and fall of his chest. This was the closest she had been to Jareth since she had come to her senses and realised the way she felt about him. As she looked at him lying there, a serene expression on his face, it was hard for her to believe that she had ever hated him.

He looked so gorgeous, so ...utterly kissable.

Woah, down, girl! Sarah found herself grinning wildly.

The idea was so outrageous, to kiss the Goblin King as he was sleeping, and have him wake slowly in her arms.

Would she dare? Could she?

She dropped to her knees, and inched towards the bed, her face flushed with the thrill, as the adrenaline pumped it’s way through her veins. She felt exhilarated, wild, totally out of control, and she didn’t care.

Crazy as it seemed, she was going to do it.

She was going to kiss Jareth.

Sarah leaned over, her movements agonisingly slow, her breath quickening with her proximity to him. She was closer now than she had ever been, closer than their dance in the ballroom, closer even than when she had pinned him against the wall in anger. The markings of the owl beneath his skin were clearly visible, she could count each individual eyelash, feel his soft breath on her face.

It was now or never. Sarah closed her eyes.

Suddenly, there came the most unwelcome sound of the door handle being turned, and Sarah pulled away rapidly, feeling an odd mixture of dismay and relief that she had been forced to come to her senses. She rose guiltily to her feet just as Merla entered the room.

Merla had only intended to look in briefly to see if Jareth was awake, Sarah and Sovay’s rooms were about to be her next port of call, as she invited her guests down to breakfast. She stopped dead in her tracks, a slow grin spreading across her face when she saw Sarah, looking for all the world as though she’d been caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

‘I see that you’ve found him. I didn’t mean to intrude,’ she whispered, glancing up at Sarah’s reddening face.

For several sweet moments, Sarah had forgotten that Jareth was married. Now she had been reminded all too clearly. At least she hadn’t actually been kissing him when his wife walked in.

She looked down, unable to meet Merla’s gaze.

‘I was looking for Sovay...’ she mumbled, embarrassed.

Jareth sighed heavily in his sleep and turned over on to his side. Sarah held her breath, horrified. ‘Please don’t let him wake up, not now.’ she thought, backing away, as the enormity of what she had just been about to do hit her. Was she crazy? It was just as well that Merla had entered the room, and stopped her from making a complete fool of herself.

As she watched, Jareth’s eyes fluttered briefly. ‘Saraahh...’ he whispered.

Merla looked up at Sarah in amusement.

‘He’s dreaming of you.’

Sarah took one look at Merla’s happy expression, and scowled, suddenly the room felt extremely crowded. She had to get out, to get away. The moment had been completely spoiled anyhow.

Without so much as a backwards glance, Sarah turned on her heel and marched out of the room.

Merla sighed and rolled her eyes, cast one last glance at the sleeping King, and followed Sarah.

*

Sarah had retreated to her room, and was standing at her window when Merla entered. She did not knock first - this was her house after all, and Sarah was a guest. Nonetheless, Sarah felt her hackles rise at the intrusion.

‘I had hoped that we could be friends, Sarah,’ Merla said softly.

‘I can assure you, I pose no threat to your relationship with Jareth.’

Sarah whirled around, her eyes flashing angrily.

‘How can you say that? You are his wife!’ she snapped. ‘Besides, what makes you so sure that I want a relationship with Jareth?’

Merla smiled at her indignant expression.

‘I saw the way you were looking at him just now.’

Sarah opened her mouth to protest, but was silenced by Merla’s raised hand.

‘Sarah relax. Honestly, you have no cause to worry about me. I may be Jareth’s wife, but I am not his lover.

Kalrassan is my Lord, and always has been. Has nobody told you of the nature of Fae weddings?’

Sarah shook her head slowly, at last someone was going to give her some answers.

‘Well then, you have been told that our marriage was a desperate measure, an alliance?’

‘Yes.’

‘Fae tend to be extremely long lived creatures, and our laws, such as they are, do not recognise divorce as you mortals know it. Imagine, if you will, how unbearable it would be to be married to the wrong person for five hundred years.’

Merla paused for effect and shuddered. ‘It doesn’t bear thinking about, does it?

As a result, under the ancient lore, Fae wedding vows, or handfastings as we prefer to call them, must be renewed every 21 years, or the marriage lapses, leaving both partners free to wed again if they so choose.

Jareth will be free in a year’s time,

Sarah, for I fully intend to marry my Lord Kal as soon as I am able.’

Sarah stared at her wide eyed. Was it really that simple?

‘Don’t you love Jareth at all?’ She blurted the question, realising last minute that it was incredibly rude of her.

Merla didn’t seem to notice.

‘Of course I do, I love him dearly, he is a cherished friend of mine. I think of him as the brother I never had.’

She smiled kindly at Sarah.

‘So you see, you really have no cause to worry about me.’

Merla’s expression suddenly became serious, and she sat on the bed, gesturing for Sarah to sit beside her. She waited until Sarah had made herself comfortable.

‘Tell me, Sarah, do you love Jareth?’

Sarah looked away.

‘I think so.’

‘Hmmm, you only think so?’

Merla regarded Sarah carefully with her big soulful eyes.

‘What do you want, Sarah? You must be certain, there are no half measures with Jareth.’

‘What do you mean?’ Sarah looked confused.

‘I mean that you must be absolutely sure of your feelings for him. If you made a commitment to Jareth it would be forever, there would be no middle ground. He would change his world for you, Sarah. He would die for you, and he would do it gladly if he thought that somehow you would benefit. Do you understand how much of a commitment that is, especially for a near immortal creature? He will be yours completely, once he has given himself to you. If you have any doubts about your feelings for him, or if you don’t feel that you can meet that level of commitment, then it would be best if you returned Aboveground.’

Merla stopped, and gazed into Sarah’s worried face.

‘Both of you are passionate and stubborn, any relationship between you is likely to be intense, and extremely stormy at times. However, If you decide that you really want to be with Jareth, I will help you as much as I can.’

She smiled, and held her hand out once more to Sarah.

‘I really would like to be your friend, Sarah.’

Sarah looked deep into her eyes, seeing only honesty, and all thoughts of hostility faded away. Merla could be a valuable ally.

‘Thank you, Merla.’ She breathed, and clasped her hand firmly, grinning at the elfin as she sealed their friendship.

Merla took Sarah by surprise, and suddenly pulled on Sarah’s hand, drawing her into a sisterly embrace.

‘Promise me that you’ll think about what I’ve said.’ she whispered into Sarah's ear.

‘All I want is for you and Jareth to be happy.’

* * *

Moonlight sparkled on the surface of the water, dappling shadows through the trees, glittering over the light dusting of frost which edged their leaves. Jareth stood on the shore gazing out across the ornamental lake, lulled by the melodic sound of water lapping against the pebbles. He was so preoccupied with his own thoughts that he did not notice the shadowy figure step out from the cover of the trees.

A twig snapped behind him, and he whirled around suddenly.

‘Sarah...’ he breathed, smiling at her startled expression, pleased that for once she did not back away from him.

She really was the most beautiful creature, standing there with silvery moonlight glistening on her skin, smiling provocatively up at him, her sultry dark eyes mirroring his intense passion.

He held his hands out, and she took them and pulled him closer, placing a delicate hand on the small of his back as she led him into the dance. Amused, he let himself be led.

They moved slowly around the clearing, closing the gap between their bodies with each step, until they were hardly dancing at all, and Jareth found himself gazing down into her lovely face, very aware of her warmth as he held her lightly against him. Laughing, she reached up to run her fingers through his hair, tilting her head at just the right angle, enticing him with her eyes, until Jareth realised with a growing sense of wonder that Sarah actually wanted him to kiss her. He could hardly contain the joy that bubbled up inside him as he leaned in to oblige.

Strange, there must be something terribly wrong with the very nature of space here, for try as he might he couldn’t reach her. The more he leaned towards her, the further away she seemed to be, even though she hadn’t left his embrace.

What cruel trick was she playing on him? Anger flashed in his eyes as he tightened his grip on a body that was rapidly becoming as insubstantial as the moonlight.

She slipped through his fingers like mist and was gone as suddenly as she had arrived, leaving nothing but a faint echo of laughter.

‘Saraah!’

The door closed, waking Jareth with a start, and he lay gazing at the ceiling in confusion. It took him several seconds to realise that he had been dreaming. A genuine sense of loss gripped him, it had seemed so real, he could have sworn he had felt Sarah’s warm breath on his neck.

He sat up - too quickly, the room spun around him, and he had to grasp his head with both hands to curb the intense stabbing pain that threatened to split his skull. What in the

Underground had he been drinking last night? He hadn’t been this hungover for years.

He looked around, disorientated and vaguely confused, not recognising his surroundings at first. This room was light and airy - the carvings much too flowery to belong anywhere in the Goblin castle. No, this looked much more like typical Elfin baroque design, and a glance out of the window confirmed his suspicions.

Surely he hadn’t visited Merla? Had he? In the middle of the night?

He groaned as fresh memories came flooding back.

Oh Lord, yes, he had.

He had made a complete nuisance of himself.

Jareth bit his lip as he remembered. Kal had thrust a rather full tumbler of brandy at him, which Jareth had drunk far too quickly, despite being able to taste the liberal dose of Elfin magic that it had been laced with. He had been beyond caring at that point.

He could only hope that he had not said anything that he might regret.

What had he been talking to Merla about?

Sovay, and Sarah! Oh Hell...

Jareth cursed under his breath, he had abandoned them in the Firey forest!

He swung his legs off the bed, grimacing as he caught sight of himself in the full length mirror, he looked rather dishevelled, and his clothes were crumpled where he had slept in them.

Well that couldn’t be helped, he had more important matters to attend to. He pulled on his boots and frock coat, and stood up, swaying slightly as a wave of giddiness and nausea hit him.

Jareth growled under his breath. As soon as he felt well enough he would give that devious elfin Kalrassan a piece of his mind. Nobody spiked the Goblin King’s alcohol with magic and got away with it.

He quickly conjured a portal to the forest and stepped through, clenching his jaw as the magic pulled cruelly at his aching head.

*

The clearing was empty when Jareth arrived, last night’s fire was all but out.

He scanned the ground for tracks, finding plenty around the fire and surrounding area, yet very few towards the edges of the clearing. There was no way of telling which way they had gone.

Jareth leaned against a tree in frustration, and closed his eyes, letting the cool bark press into his back, while the warmth of the pale autumn sun caressed his face, soothing and reassuring him. Just lately he had begun to feel as though his life was truly coming apart at the seams. He was falling to pieces, spiralling downwards in ever decreasing circles, and he knew that somehow he had to regain some sort of command of his emotions or suffer the consequences.

The side effects of last night’s excesses were not helping either.

It had been many years since he had felt so wretched.

Eventually he took a deep breath and opened his eyes to view the forest glade afresh. The dying embers of the fire were just another little reminder of how much he had lost control. A week ago he would never have allowed himself to become so affected by the past that he would abandon Sarah and his sister to the terrors of the forest at night. He smiled grimly, a week ago he hadn’t known that his sister existed, and Sarah had been a distraction, nothing more. Sarah...

Jareth shook his head sadly as he suddenly remembered how she had let him down.

The time had come to stop fooling himself, it was fairly obvious that Sarah was never going to return his feelings, that she loved that cold-hearted mortal businessman that she had been about to marry. The one who cared for nothing other than money and power. She had given up her dreams for Alan Richardson after all, which was more than she had ever done for Jareth.

In fact she had never so much as looked at Jareth without contempt or hatred in her eyes.

Something broke inside him then, some fragile, precious, closely guarded thing, and he recoiled against the pain, slamming all his mental barriers viciously back into place. Just recently he had allowed Sarah to become dangerously close to tearing down those barriers. He had shown weaknesses, and he knew it.

And for what? All Sarah ever saw in him was a cruel, cold, manipulative...

Well perhaps it was time he started living up to her expectations.

Somewhere at the back of his mind, a tiny voice protested that he wasn’t being entirely reasonable, that Sarah had barely had time to adjust, after all he had hardly spoken to her all week, perhaps he was expecting too much.

He quashed the thought ruthlessly.

He would not, could not allow her to affect him this way again, his sanity was teetering dangerously close to the gaping black abyss of breakdown, it was taking all his will not to buckle under. He should have known, should have realised what effect her proximity would have on him.

Enough was enough, he had a kingdom to rule, and a sister to take care of, and he had no time for women who betrayed his trust.

With that in mind, Jareth resumed his search, transforming into the owl to fly a couple of passes over the forest.

* * *

Sovay awoke with a groan, the ache in her muscles was becoming all too familiar.

That was the last time she was ever going to fly, she told herself, knowing full well that it was an empty promise. The thrill of flight was too alluring, and yesterday for the first time she had actually felt as though she was in control. At last she understood why Jareth frequently took himself out on long flights across the Labyrinth, the peacefulness and freedom that flight offered was unrivalled by anything else.

Her thoughts turned from flight to the other revelations of the past few days, and her mood became more sombre. Her father had been a tyrant, a murderer, a rapist, and she was the result of a brutal act of violence.

Last night she had been upset at the revelations, it all seemed so hard to believe, and yet the hatred in Jareth’s eyes had been enough to convince her it was true.

This morning, Sovay was not quite sure whether she was glad that Jareth had told her the truth, or whether she would rather have remained ignorant. She had never known her father, or her mother. She felt depressed about her background, true, but she could not get upset about people she had never felt any attachment for.

It would not do to dwell on such things too closely. Miss Myrtle had been more of a mother to her, and Jareth had recently proved that he cared more than she could have hoped for.

No she couldn’t feel too sorry for herself.

She rose from her bed and crossed her room, gasping in surprise at the elaborate gown that had been laid out for her to wear.

In her wildest dreams she had never thought that she would wear clothes as fine as this. The gown was absolutely gorgeous, three layers of contrasting gossamer-like fabric in violets, purples and dark forest greens, the bodice embroidered with a scrolling pattern, embellished with dark gemstones and metallic threads. Sovay felt briefly apprehensive as she pulled the dress on, she didn’t want to ruin the fine cloth, this was easily as expensive as anything Jareth usually wore.

The silky material felt especially luxurious against her skin, forcing a sigh of pure pleasure from her throat.

Sovay twirled spellbound in front of the mirror, admiring her transformation, the fitting bodice emphasised her narrow waist, while the gauzy material of the skirt and sleeves hung to the floor in multi-coloured tagged layers, looking for all the world like feathers. Someone had put a lot of thought into choosing this for her, and it fitted perfectly.

For the first time she felt as though she truly belonged within the royal household.

Today, even the ugly scar on her forehead didn’t seem so bad, although she still left her hair unbraided in a vain attempt to cover it.

With a smile she slipped out of her room and went in search of breakfast.

* * *

After an hour’s search, Jareth had been forced to admit that the women were nowhere in the forest or the Labyrinth, and he headed back to the Goblin castle hoping that they had returned there.

Now he was in the solar, alone, and extremely worried. Where in the underground could they be? People didn’t just vanish...

Finally he conjured a crystal, and gazed savagely into it, cursing the hangover

that had dulled his wits to such

an extent that he had not thought to do this sooner.

There was Sovay, talking to Kalrassan in Merla’s kitchen! The door opened, and

Merla entered, followed by Sarah.

Fine, just fine. He had wasted considerable time and effort searching for them, and they had been under his nose all along. As he watched, Merla paused mid sentence, looked directly at him through the crystal, and blew him a kiss, smiling wickedly.

Jareth scowled. He hated it when she did that.

Merla giggled at his furious expression, and beckoned to him, gesturing for him to join them for breakfast.

He blanked the image from the crystal angrily, stalking across the room to gaze moodily out across his domain.

They were all laughing at him! The Goblin King had shown them that he was vulnerable, and they all thought this was some great joke.

Even Sarah had looked amused.

Anger and resentment lodged bitterly in Jareth’s throat, as he turned from the window. He crossed to the desk - still covered with dried ink, which only served to annoy him further.

With a sweeping gesture of rage he cast everything from the desk onto the floor.

* * *

‘There’ll be one more for breakfast, Lizel’

Merla winked at Sarah, as she addressed her maid, grinning at the curious faces seated around the sturdy oak table. Lizel nodded and carried on preparing breakfast, fetching out plates laden with bread, spiced meats, cheeses and fresh fruit. She filled Sarah’s tankard with a steaming dark red liquid, and Sarah smelled it suspiciously. It smelled sweet, like spiced honey, awaking her senses and making her mouth water, although it looked just like the mulled wine that she had been given last night. When she took a sip, it tasted surprisingly bitter, and was quite refreshing. Some kind of herbal tea, she decided, uncertain whether she liked it or not.

The kitchen was even more beautiful and cosy by daylight, giving the impression that it was well lived in. Dark wooden beams stretched across the ceiling, and bunches of assorted herbs hung from them, drying in the heat from the range.

Sovay felt especially at home in the kitchen, she had to force herself to sit still while she was being waited on; all her instincts were screaming at her to get up and help Lizel. She occupied herself with her food, ducking her head to hide her discomfort. This was something that she would just have to get used to.

‘Jareth will be here, you mark my words.’ Merla smiled.

Sarah smiled back, it had seemed so comical when Merla had started gesturing into thin air, she had certainly taken everyone by surprise.

‘How do you know?’ Sovay asked.

‘I know Jareth of old. He won’t be able to stand the thought that we could be talking about him behind his back. He’ll arrive late though, he could never resist an opportunity to make an entrance.’

Kal nodded in agreement, his eyes twinkling.

Sarah grinned and looked away, it was curious to think that Jareth had friends who found his ways amusing.

‘No, I mean how do you know when he’s watching you?’ Sovay asked, breaking off a hunk of crusty bread.

Merla shrugged.

‘I can always tell if someone’s scrying on me. You could say that I have an affinity with the art.’

Kal snorted.

‘You are entirely too modest, my dear. Ladies, you are in the presence of the greatest sorceress in the Underground. The current Magista of the inner circle of Seers.’

He grinned proudly at her, eyes sparkling, knowing full well that Merla would never have offered the information herself.

She rolled her eyes at him,

Sarah looked incredulously at her. ‘Are you more powerful than Jareth?’

‘In some things, yes. In others he is way ahead of me. Jareth doesn’t bother himself with the inner circle.

Doesn’t have time for such trivialities.’ she laughed.

‘It’s a moot point anyhow; as Lord Protector of the Underground, his will would be obeyed across all seven kingdoms, should he chose to wield that much power. He rarely does.’

Sarah looked astounded,

‘I thought he was the Goblin King?’

‘He is. King of the Goblins, Lord Protector of the Underground. The title of Lord Protector was bestowed upon him after he led the resistance to their final victory at Xanjea. In theory, Jareth is all powerful here, even my father the Elfin King would have to bend to his will in times of crisis. In practise, any changes he wants to make outside the Goblin Kingdom have to be put before the Seelie Court, Lord Protector is little more than an honorary title in times of peace. He would have a hard time trying to get the Trolls to obey his will, for example.’

‘So who are the Seelie court?’ Sarah was genuinely interested. This was the most sense that anyone had made since she arrived here.

Kal took up the subject. ‘The High Court of the Fae.’ He grinned at her. ‘The Underground is just one of the Seelie realms, there are many more. The Seelie court are the overlords of Arcadia.’

He paused to take a sip of his tea, then continued, ‘Most mortals have heard of Oberon and Titania, I believe one of your people visited the court some years ago, and wrote a play about them.’

‘William Shakespeare?’

Sarah looked at him, an incredulous expression on her face.

‘That’s the fellow!’ Kal grinned. ‘He caused quite a stir. Titania was furious apparently, didn’t speak to Oberon for months. He has quite a gift for the written word, as I recall. Tell me, is he still writing?’

Sarah looked curiously Kal, expecting to find that he was joking, but his expression was sincere.

‘He’s been dead for over three hundred years!’ she exclaimed.

Kal looked embarrassed.

‘Oh dear, I am terribly sorry... I had no idea...’ his voice trailed off as he saw Sarah’s amused expression. He was talking about Shakespeare as though Sarah might have known him personally.

‘Don’t worry about it.’ Sarah smiled brightly at him, trying her best to reassure him. It wasn’t Kal’s fault that he obviously had no concept of time Aboveground.

Suddenly Sarah felt Merla stiffen beside her, her face draining of colour.

‘Sarah...’ she whispered, gripping on to the girl’s arm. ‘Jareth’s here. He’s...’

Merla had no chance to finish what she was saying. Sarah looked up in awe as Jareth materialised beside her in a flurry of glittering magic, his face impassive.

Merla was on her feet in an instant, followed by Kal and Sovay. Jareth ignored them, his attention solely focussed on Sarah, who had remained seated.

‘Have you nothing to say to me, Sarah?’ he demanded, folding his arms across his chest.

Merla glanced at him in concern, just what was going on?

‘No apology, no remorse for your actions?’ he continued, glaring down at her.

Slowly, silently, she rose to her feet, and turned to face him, her eyes dark with indignant fury.

‘You disappoint me, Sarah. I had thought better of you.’ Jareth produced a crystal, rolling it around his hands to weave the spell into it. They locked eyes, the air positively crackling between them.

Merla watched with sudden interest. Surely Jareth could sense the girl’s feelings? He would have to be blind not to notice. She looked again at Jareth, realising with a growing sense of horror that he really wasn’t aware, that maybe he was about to do something that he would really regret.

That there was something not right behind his eyes. He wasn’t himself.

‘I disappoint you?’ Sarah’s indignant voice broke through Merla’s train of thought.

‘You have one hell of a nerve, Goblin King, how dare you say that to me after all you’ve put me through?’

Sarah spat his title as though it were an insult, and stood her ground, feeling all the anger and pain of the past week bubbling dangerously close to the surface as she faced him. Yet somehow she felt different arguing with him today. There was love underlying the pain, making it bearable. She was in control this time.

‘You betrayed my trust, Sarah. Had you been one of my subjects I would have you hanged for treason.’

His voice was the coldest she had ever heard, his expression furious as he approached her. He was deathly serious. A very real fear began to build in Sarah’s stomach, her confidence wavered, and she looked away from him. He advanced mercilessly.

‘You are no longer welcome here. It is time for you to return aboveground.’

He tossed the crystal at her.

She side-stepped it neatly, all thoughts of control leaving her as she stepped forward until her face was inches away from his, fear making her bold.

‘I told you once that you have no power over me, Jareth, have you forgotten already? I refuse to let you summon and banish me at will.’ She glared into his angry eyes.

‘I am not sorry for what I did. I am my own person, and I am responsible for my own actions. It’s not my problem if you can’t deal with that!’

She spun on her hell, and made to leave, but Jareth was faster, grabbing hold of her arm.

‘I’m not finished with you,’ he spat.

‘Believe me, Jareth, I’m finished with you!’ Sarah kept her voice low, twisting against his grip, knocking against the table in the process, sending plates clattering noisily to the floor.

She managed to turn so that she had the advantage, and slapped him hard across the face with a resounding crack.

Merla had been watching this heated exchange with increasing agitation, until she could stand it no longer. She stepped between the struggling pair.

‘That is quite enough!’ she snapped. ‘I will not have such disgraceful behaviour under my roof! Do you hear me?’

She placed a warning hand on the Goblin King’s arm. ‘Jareth, let her go.’

Kal knew his lady, knew the measure of her temper. He appeared at Jareth’s side, an immovable force, his presence just enough to remind Merla that she might be about to enter dangerous territory, and to warn Jareth not to try anything further.

Jareth looked from one to the other, and released Sarah, seeming to notice where he was for the first time. Free of his grip, Sarah bolted for the door, slamming it hard behind her. Merla rolled her eyes, and took a deep breath before turning on Jareth.

‘Have you lost your mind? What in the world do you think you are playing at?’

His eyes were slightly glazed, and his breathing laboured, his gaze fixed on the door that Sarah had fled through.

‘Jareth? Look at me when I’m talking to you..’ She reached up and pulled his head down so that she was in his direct line of sight, almost flinching against his expression. He was cold as ice, and just as unforgiving, his cheek once again bearing three bright red flashes where Sarah’s fingers had caught him, making a criss-cross pattern with the fading scratches from their earlier fight.

He glared down at her.

‘I’ll thank you, Merla, not to meddle in my business.’

‘And I’ll thank you, Jareth, not to bring your arguments into my house. Have you no respect? Is this how you repay my hospitality?’

Merla continued to glare at him until he looked convincingly ashamed of himself.

He sighed, and his shoulders slumped.

‘No. No of course not.’

‘What did you hope to accomplish by intimidating the girl, Jareth?’ Merla asked quietly. Jareth was calmer now, but his eyes still stared wide, slightly too maniacal for Merla’s liking.

He was definitely not himself, perhaps she should have realised the extent of his problems last night.

‘I was only being who she wants me to be, she only ever sees me as a monster. I could have sent her back and severed the ties between us quite neatly just then, if you hadn’t interfered.’

This time, he did not manage to keep the pain from his voice.

‘Now I am going to have to face her again.’

He leaned forward on the table and buried his head in his hands.

Merla and Kal exchanged worried glances. This was not good.

Merla crept quietly away, taking Sovay’s arm, and pulling her towards the door.

‘How long has he been like this?’ She whispered. Sovay shrugged.

‘He seemed alright last night’ she said, her face drawn with worry.

Merla squeezed her arm. ‘Alright, stay with him. I’m going to find Sarah. I have an idea.’

She smiled reassuringly, and left.

Sovay glanced over at Jareth, he hadn’t moved. She looked at Kal, who smiled kindly at her, and gestured for her to sit at the table next to her brother. She eyed Jareth warily. Sovay had kept quiet throughout the exchange, surprised at the ferocity of Jareth’s anger, and the level to which Sarah had responded, despite having felt Sarah’s temper in the past. She admired the way the girl had stood up to Jareth, there weren’t many who could achieve that. Even so, it was Jareth who was hurting now, he needed her. She took a seat by his side, and gently brushed the hair away from his face in slow soothing movements.

Sovay was determined to help her brother through this. She could only hope that Merla's idea would work - whatever it may be.

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