From: "Alorin Danya" <alorindanya@h...>
Date: Wed Dec 4, 2002 12:19 am
Subject: "The Thief, the King, and the Son" Ch. 11/?


"The Thief, the King, and the Son" by Alorin Danya
Chapter 11: Undetermined Decisions

Sarah wasn't satisfied with the blouse that she had initially decided
to wear; it might have looked fine on Karen, but it made Sarah look
uncharacteristically like a prude. She slipped it off and searched
her closet for something more fitting, eventually settling on a soft
blue sweater with pearls and lace sown in little designs here and
there. Sarah let her hair fall from the messy twist to rest upon her
shoulders in an attempt to cover some of the hideous sweater. She
sneered at it, wishing she had something more with the times than
having to wear something fashionable ten years ago; but at least she
had something that was better than that green blouse. In fact, what
she had chosen to wear tonight she originally had planned to wear to
Donna's party on Tuesday…but now that she had that advance bonus from
Mr. Thompson she could get something that she wouldn't feel ashamed
of wearing in front of her co-workers. This sweater was definitely
too frilly to wear out in public. She sighed; this would have to do
for tonight.

She started to reach for the lipstick from atop her vanity when she
stopped herself short. What was she getting dressed up for anyway?
It wasn't a real Christmas dinner, and it was just her family. And
Mr. Johnson, her thoughts reminded her. And Irene thought Mr.
Johnson was a match for her. Sarah hung her head as Irene's words
echoed in her ears. She had been running from love. She had
reason, yes, but had she ever given it a real chance? She had one
bad experience, but did that mean she was destined to never love
again? For some reason, she knew that is what she expected. It
wasn't until Irene's words tonight that she realized she had only
been holding herself back from finding love again.

Sarah looked at her own eyes in the mirror, asking herself what she
wanted. It was obvious Mr. Johnson was attracted to her, even cared
about her son. It startled her. Why would the man show any interest
in her son after just meeting him? Jareth Johnson didn't know her,
she knew he didn't in the deepest part of her gut, but she didn't
know if that was enough for her to accept if he did make advances
towards her. Did having the same name and appearance as the Goblin
King actually make him one in the same? Her heart, not just her
mind, refused to believe they were different, no matter how different
his personality was from the monarch.

Sarah looked away from the mirror as an idea crept into her mind and
she absently sat down on her vanity chair. She knew magic was real;
could there be a possibility that the Goblin King had been made
mortal, made to forget all magic…all because of her wishes? He had
said she had his magic: No, it was absurd. She didn't know anything
about magic, let alone how to use it if she did have it. But she had
wished so many dreadful things against the Goblin King even after he
left her…

No. No. No. "NO." Sarah jumped when she heard her own voice vocalize
her thoughts, freeing her from them. "No." She breathed again. She
didn't want to think on it anymore, didn't want to think about
anything. She would go downstairs, finish whatever else needed
cooked and have a nice dinner with her family.

Sarah slipped on a pair of black penny loafers and turned off the
light before leaving her room. Even before she stepped into the hall
the sounds of guns and action music could be heard coming from Toby's
room. Sarah walked to it and stuck her head in, both Toby and Joey
intensely focused on the game.

"Hey, guys, it's too loud. I could hear that all the way down the
hall."

"What?" Joey asked, as usual not taking his eyes off the TV screen.

"My point exactly." Sarah mumbled and decided to let them keep their
noise, shutting the door to keep the noise from reaching the rest of
the house. She turned and nearly tripped over her son, who was
standing right outside Toby's door, "Breni! Why aren't you helping
Aunt Iri?"

"She left and Uncle Roy yelled at me." He frowned and didn't look at
her.

Sarah crouched down and sympathetically said, "Were they fighting
again? I'm sure Uncle Roy didn't mean to yell at you."

"He wasn't mad at Aunt Iri…" Breni looked his mother in the eye, "He
didn't really yell at me, he just told me to play with Joey and
Toby." Then he looked down in sadness again, indicating with his head
to the closed door, "But they don't want to play with me."

Sarah smiled at him, "They don't? Let's go change their minds."

She took his hand and stood up, opening Toby's door again and
stepping inside. Talking did not get their attention before, so she
walked to the electrical outlet and unplugged the game.

"Sarah!!" Toby shouted.

Joey scowled, "Hey, we were racking up…."

"I don't care. You two have ignored Breni long enough. Either you
find something to do together or march downstairs and sit on the
couch until you are called for."

Toby's face cringed; he knew from his sister's tone she meant
business. There was no negotiation possible when it came to Breni.
He shrugged, "I guess we could do a board game."

"What, Shoots and Ladders? That's for babies." Joey mocked.

"He's not a baby." Toby snapped, "And he doesn't like that game.
He's really good at Battle Ship, I bet he could kick your but."

"Yeah, I can!" Breni challenged.

Sarah was proud of how her brother stood up for Brendon, how he
understood it was hard for Breni to be accepted. She glared at how
insulting Joey had purposely been. Her son wasn't a baby and was
quite intelligent. She wouldn't be surprised if he did beat the
twelve year old. "Breni, now play nice. I'm going back down and
help finish dinner. I'll get you boys when everything is done.
Shouldn't be much longer, so don't get too involved in a game."

Sarah was surprised to find the kitchen was empty when she entered.
It looked as though nothing had been touched while she was in the
shower. The pot of macaroni and cheese was burning on the stove, the
sweet potatoes hadn't even been started, and it was a good thing she
had arrived when she had or the ham in the oven might have been
singed. She flipped off the heat to the macaroni, then hurried and
grabbed the hot mittens to pull the ham out of the oven, leaving it
to cool on top of the stove. She sighed in frustration; where was
Iri?

There were faint voices coming from the front hallway and she went
out to investigate. Entering from outside were Roy and Iri, both
looking frozen and distressed. So her assumption had been right;
they were fighting. She sighed. Perhaps it might not be such a good
idea to yell at them for leaving the kitchen at the moment.

They were still muttering to each other as they placed their coats in
the hall closet.

"You don't think he's going to bolt, do you?"

"If he does, it only proves we were right." Roy said.

"Iri, what can I do to get the potatoes started?" Sarah called from
the kitchen door to get their attention.

Her aunt and uncle froze, each with a startled look upon their face.
Then Iri clumsily walked around her husband while he finished closing
the closet door.

"I…I'm not sure if there is time still to make them." Irene stuttered
as she walked to her niece.

Sarah laughed sarcastically, "I noticed. I guess we'll just have to
wait until Christmas to have sweet potato casserole. Everything else
is ready, it seems. All we need to do is put it on the table and
call everyone down. Where is Dad anyway?"

Irene entered the kitchen and set herself to work again, grabbing the
carving knife from a drawer, "Last I heard he said he had a head ache
and wanted to lay down."

Sarah smiled wearily at her uncle as he edged around her to get into
the kitchen. He looked very upset, but she didn't want to say
anything that might provoke another argument. Then again, she didn't
want to stay around if they were going to argue regardless. Irene
was giving him a look Sarah could only interpret as some sort of
instruction, as if she didn't want him saying anything that might
clue Sarah in on what they were fighting about. Sarah silently
raised her brows in contemplation, turned and reached into a cabinet,
grabbing as many glasses as she could, then heading to the dinning
room and setting one at each place. When she came back into the
kitchen, Roy and Iri were busily gathering everything together.

Sarah caught her aunt giving Roy another secret glance, at which he
nodded and turned to Sarah, "If you want to go get the boys, we can
set everything on the table."

She could tell they must want to be alone, probably to settle their
disagreement before the night got too far along. Glancing at Iri
another moment, Sarah shrugged, "Okay."

It didn't take Sarah but a minute to run upstairs and gather the
boys. It turned out they had decided on playing Battle Field after
all, but their game was still not over and Brendon was in the lead.
However, the boys were too hungry to argue about having to stop mid-
game. They ran off to the dinning room in a hurry. Sarah found her
father lying on the living room couch, but Robert didn't move to get
up when she told him dinner was ready. She asked if he needed
Tylenol or something, but he shook his head and told her that he'd be
in shortly.

Sarah was surprised to hear no conversation going on in the kitchen
as she neared it; she had figured with how Roy and Irene typically
were bickering at each other she would have caught some bit of
confrontation, but the room was silent. When she entered, Joey was
standing between his parents, looking to them as if he had a very
important question to be answered. But both his parents were
ignoring him.

"So is everything ready?" Sarah asked to let them know she'd returned.

Roy was unscrewing the cork off the wine he had bought, and he nodded
to Sarah, "Yeah, all set. Joey, go on in and find a seat."

Joey clearly wanted an answer from his dad, "You just said…"

"Not another word. Go." Irene intervened.

The boy huffed angrily as he marched to the dining room, giving Sarah
the briefest look of disbelief and mistrust. It actually shocked her
for him to look at her like that. What an evening this would be if
her aunt and uncle's argument spread throughout the entire
household. It'd be real fun, especially now that it looked as though
the Carlson's wouldn't be able to return home until the streets were
cleared of the snow…which might not be until tomorrow since it didn't
appear it would stop anytime soon. Sarah glanced out the window; the
snow was falling so heavily she could barely see the light of her
neighbor's porch next door. She was thankful to be inside with a
functioning furnace to keep the house warm.

*

The blizzard raging outside was nothing compared to the storm Jareth
was battling within his soul. How could this have happened? Should
he even believe it? If he were in his own world, if there was any
reminisce of magic left within him at all he would be able to tell if
Brendon was his son; the boy would have a similar aura. But here, in
this unforgiving world that smothered magic…there had to be some
means of telling. Judging the child's appearance alone could not
prove anything; although it did appear to be damn plausible to the
Carlson's. Jareth himself couldn't deny how eerily similar the boy's
eyes were to his own. He certainly couldn't walk up to Sarah and
just ask if he'd fathered her child; what if she said yes? How
should he react if Brendon was in fact his son? Would the boy be
considered his heir? His illegitimate child? Just because the
prophecy said Sarah would bare him a son did not mean that Brendon
was automatically his. If it weren't for the prophecy and the way
his heart ached when Sarah looked at him with her confused eyes,
Jareth might have been inclined to dismiss the entire notion.

And what of Sarah? Having a son was one thing, but having a lover
was a prospect Jareth wasn't sure he could handle. An illegitimate
child could be dealt with much more gracefully than having a
mistress. Underground, every physical relationship shared with
another bound a piece of one's soul eternally to that person. Magic,
knowledge, everything was at the hands of the one bonded with. That
is why rulers, above all the Fae, never bonded to but to one other
their entire lifetime, even if their spouse perished. Such sharing
of power and intimate knowledge is also why many rulers chose never
to join with another. Jareth himself had been inclined to never
bond. He thought that no one could be strong enough to experience
all he had to endure in controlling the Labyrinth on a daily basis.
But a prophecy is a prophecy and fate cannot be easily changed. But
damn it, he should know if he had bonded.

Here Jareth had remembered Sarah was to be his queen just the
previous day, and to learn that he might have already shared a part
of his life with her…how long ago could that have possibly been, if
it had happened at all? Brendon, being the only indication he had
ever had a relationship with Sarah, indicated they were together six
or more years ago. But it made little sense since she was still a
child that long ago, even by Fae standards. And if he had known
her, had he known her in love or had he simply taken her and left; he
could never imagine himself being that heartless. Why would he have
even left her when she appeared to be such a good soul? From what he
knew of her, she was honest and fair, but did she have the makings of
a queen? By Fae standards, no non-magic could become queen save for
by special circumstances…one of which was preordained prophecy. Was
everything up to fate, that she was his queen because the prophecy
said so and he had no say in it?

Jareth buried his face in his hands, not caring that while he sat on
the porch, drifts of snow were starting to pile on top his shoes and
snowflakes clung to his hair. He didn't even feel the cold wind blow
around him; he was too numb inside to care. He didn't know what he
was going to do since he had nowhere to go in this world. He did
know that he was bound to his honor; he would stay and find out the
truth. And if it was true, he was willing to never leave Sarah
again. But until something solid was established, he wasn't going to
hold himself to any assumptions.

*

Sarah sat next to her son at the dining room table and smiled in
thanks to her uncle as he poured a little white wine into her glass.
Her eyes went wide as he filled it almost to the brim, and he
sheepishly apologized to her, knowing she would never drink so much.
Sarah hated to not be in control of herself or not aware of
everything going on around her, especially because she wanted to
always be alert and ready incase her son needed anything. His little
ticker was ticking just fine with consistent medication, but that
wasn't enough assurance for Sarah. She didn't trust anything but
herself.

Irene sat across from Sarah, next to her son who was teasing Toby at
having been given child sized flatware. It angered Sarah at how mean
Joey was being to both the younger boys tonight, but she wasn't going
to say anything; it wasn't her job, he was only her cousin. Luckily
Irene wasn't oblivious to her son's behavior and got on to him. He
proceeded to pout and fold his arms over his chest.

After pouring wine for his wife, Roy moved to fill his brother-in-
law's glass, "Is Rob comin'?"

"He said he'd be in." Sarah said, and her uncle proceeded to pour.

Joey, over being punished, piped up, "Where's Jareth?"

Sarah felt a little sheepish; she had forgotten to even look for Mr.
Johnson and let him know they were eating.

"He's on the porch," Roy said, then added under his breath, "if he's
still here."

Sarah raised her brows in alarm, "Outside in that storm? It's ten
degrees out there! What, is he crazy?"

"Well, he's got a bit on his mind." Roy shrugged as if he could care
less.

Sarah scooted her chair out and got up, "You could have told me where
he was, I would have gotten him."

"Sarah, don't…!" Irene started, but she had already left the room.

Sarah didn't bother grabbing a coat since she was just stepping out a
second. The wind blasted frigidly against her face as she opened the
front door and she quickly shut it behind her to keep the warm air
inside. She couldn't help but immediately wrap her arms around
herself to keep her body protected from the cold air. Mr. Johnson
was sitting on the porch steps, head bent over in his hands, elbows
resting on his knees.

"Mr. Johnson, dinner's on the table."

He didn't move, might not have even heard her against the wind. She
noticed there was a small layer of snow gathered at his side and
matting his hair as if he'd been there more there much longer than to
get a bit of fresh air. She called to him again, taking a step
forward, but still he didn't react. Finally she walked to him; now
able to see his face, she finally realized why he hadn't heard her—he
was completely lost to his thoughts. His eyes were staring out into
space and there was such a look of despair on his face that made her
feel a strange sorrow for him. Seeing him like that made Sarah feel
she needed to consol him.

Part of her job description was counseling those she found
employment, yet she couldn't remember what she had been told about
when the appropriate time to approach one who looked distressed.
Besides, he didn't know her and probably wouldn't tell him anything
even if she offered. She halfheartedly thought she should just him
alone since it seemed he had come outside so that he could think in
seclusion, but it was cold. She herself had only been outside less
than a minute and was shivering, and if the snow around him was any
indication, he should be chilled to the bone by now. Sarah bent down
and placed her left hand on his shoulder, shaking him gently.

At her actions, Mr. Johnson's head shot up and his left hand harshly
latched on to hers. Only at her painful gasp did he check to
identify his assailant. Stark realization registered in his eyes
when he brought them to meet hers.

He abruptly let go of her hand and stood, looking to her with
apologetic eyes but not apologizing, "You startled me."

Sarah halfheartedly nodded and looked away as she rubbed her
wrist, "I called. Dinner's ready."

"Sarah, I didn't mean to hurt you." He reached out his hand to
comfort her.

She gasped and took a step back as she snapped her eyes back to his,
abruptly speaking her thoughts before she had really even registered
them, "Call me Ms. Williams…please."

She could see him question her request in his eyes, and she even
questioned herself. Why shouldn't she let him call her Sarah like
everyone else? She knew why; when Mr. Johnson spoke, it wasn't Mr.
Johnson she heard saying her name. It was easier hearing his voice
call her anything but her first name.

Mr. Johnson gave a slight nod, "If that is what you want."

Sarah looked away from him, "It is." She shivered and knew they
should go inside, but curiosity got the best of her on how he had
looked when she found him. She let her eyes meet his again. "Why
were you out here anyway? Is everything okay?"

She could see how it was hard for him to think up an answer to give
her, although his mismatched eyes never wavered from hers. "I needed
to think."

"If you needed to clear your head, there are plenty of warm places
inside you could be alone. You have got to be freezing."

He finally looked away, "I'm not cold."

Sarah shivered as she sarcastically laughed, "I wish that were true
for me, come on."

Sarah didn't look at him again, but turned to go back inside. She
didn't even glance behind her to see if he shut the door behind him.

Jareth tried not to let his anger overcome him and quietly closed the
front door. He agitatedly yanked the coat from his form, the heat
inside too much. He damned himself for having responding so
impulsively when Sarah touched him, and had she touched any other
place than his bruised back, he wouldn't have been so quick to
react. More frustrating was her obvious discomfort with his very
being. He could tell it would be nearly impossible to get any direct
answers from her on anything. Maybe it would just be best to focus
on getting the book. Whoever she thought he was, it was obvious she
didn't want him around.

Jareth sighed heavily and made the motion to throw his coat on a
chair in the foray, but he stopped when he caught sight of Sarah.
She was in the living room, kneeling at her father's side as he lay
on the couch. Jareth listened as her tones were soothing and
comforting; tones she had yet to give him. He tried not to make his
presence known, wanting to watch Sarah, see who she really was
through the way she interacted with those she was comfortable being
around.

"Dad, you don't have to come." Sarah said softly, "I could fix you up
a plate and heat it later."

"No, I'm fine. I'll just take some aspirin." Robert said, sitting
up, his face flushed with the effort.

Sarah reached her hand to her father's forehead. "Aspirin isn't the
only thing you should take. You're burning up." A knowing frown
formed on her lips, "You said there was a bug spreading at work, do
you have the same symptoms as the others?"

Robert leaned against the arm of the couch, "I am starting to get a
sore throat."

"Oh no." Sarah breathed out, "Well, hopefully it's not contagious.
I'd hate for us all to get sick, especially Breni. He's nearly gone
seven months without any complications and…"

"Sarah, you worry too much." Robert chucked as he rose off the
couch, "It's the flu, not the plague."

Sarah raised her voice as she lifted herself from the ground and
stood firmly in front of her father, "I worry too much? My son has
been in and out of hospitals because of little flu's…"

"Only twice…" Robert tried to interject.

"Twice out of the umpteenth times he's had to!" Sarah turned her head
away from him, trying to control her temper, "Dad, he's only six. I
don't want him having to worry about…"

Robert reached out and placed calming hands on his daughter's
shoulders, "Is he weak? Is he sick now?"

"No." Sarah had to admit.

"Then hope that nothing will happens, but you have to let him live
his life like a normal kid, without his over protective mom on his
shoulders all the time."

Sarah tried to keep the tears from forming in her eyes, but a few
slipped from her eyelids as she nodded, "I know I worry too much, but
he's all that's keeping…" She couldn't finish what she wanted to say,
knowing that it was selfish of her to say that Brendon was her entire
reason for being.

"I know." Sarah was entirely shocked as her father wrapped his arms
around her, "I know he's the only reason you keep going. You think
Toby and I don't need you too? You're full of yourself sometimes." He
sniggered into her ear, "God, I'd hate to think of how we would have
turned out without you being here. I hate to admit it, but I think I
would have had Irene and Roy move in here."

Sarah couldn't help but to laugh as she pulled away from her father,
whipping her tears, "Yeah, I could imagine you and Roy together. Ha!
It'd be a miracle if the house would still be in once piece after
keeping you two together just one day."

"Hey, don't say that," Her father joked, "he's gonna be here `til
Sunday the way that storm is blowing."

Sarah smiled and continued to tease him, "And with all those women
Irene would have over for makeovers, you'd be goggling all of them."

Robert's smile immediately left, "No, Sarah, I wouldn't. I loved
your…Karen very much."

"Oh, Dad." Sarah gasped in shame, "I shouldn't have said…"

He patted her shoulder and turned to leave the room, "I know you
didn't mean it."

After Robert left, Sarah rolled her eyes to the ceiling and flopped
herself down on the couch with a sigh. How could she have been so
insensitive? Never once had her Dad shown any interest in another
woman. No matter how much she and Karen hadn't gotten along, Sarah
could never deny that Karen and her father were very much in
love. "Way to go, Sarah." She whispered to herself.

Mr. Williams barely avoided running into Jareth as he exited the
room. He apologized and absently continued on to the dining room.
At hearing her father speaking to someone, Sarah looked up to find
Mr. Johnson looking straight at her, the light from the foyer giving
his blonde locks a halo effect.

"How long have you been there?" Sarah asked, a harsh tone to her
voice.

"Since we came in. I was going to ask where to put the coat, but you
were preoccupied."

Sarah's face flushed, for one reason, having been caught being so
intimate with her father—she hated letting people see her cry—and
another, because she felt it was rude of Mr. Johnson to have watched
it all without saying anything.

She pushed herself up off the couch and went to him, taking the coat
from his arms, careful not to touch him. "I'll put it up. You go on
in. They're waiting."

Jareth only nodded and turned, ignoring his curiosity as to why
Brendon was so prone to sickness. He pushed his questions down,
despite that the opportunity was perfect since at this moment, he and
Sarah were alone; now was not the time. Sarah was already upset as
it was. Provoking her in any way could be a matter of him getting
home or not. She was the holder of the only means of his return
home, and if she felt that he was truly her enemy in any way, who
knew what she might do with the book. Taking things slowly,
wheedling answers out of her without her realizing it would be his
best chance of finding any answers and getting home.



A/N: Once again, apologies for getting this chapter out so late.
Eternal gratitude goes to Nyllewell for being my beta for this
chapter. Thanks as always goes to The Hooded Crow, Scattered Logic,
Lady Jamie and Cormak for their support. By the way, I started a
photo folder on this list for member pictures, so add your pic so we
can get to know you better.