The Darkened King

Memories Resurface

Jareth watched as Sarah slept, he had brought a blanket for he knew the memory would not release her for some time. He simply hoped that it would shed some light onto where the path was located. He grew tired of waiting and, as Sarah had mentioned earlier, patience was not his strongest virtue.

The Goblin King sat in a chair next to hers and wondered what memory had decided to surface. He knew that she had many for she had lived many lives. In most of them he had made an appearance, whether in a large or insignificant way, but some he had not been in.

He wondered if she dreamed of when they first met, for he dimly remembered it. She had always been the one with the strong memory and penchant for detail. He could not remember how many lives she had led and he could not remember if she had lived in Faery or if he had first met her after he was placed in exile.

The time did not matter, what did matter was that they had met and he had become fascinated by her. In most of her lives she did not know what she was, that hers was an Old Soul, but in a few she had been aware of her past lives.

He had always been the one to awaken her, to remind her who she had been, and her reaction was always different. At some times she refused to believe him, other times she ignored him, but for the majority she believed him. Though, he had found that showing her the lives of her past made her believe him faster than simply telling her of them.

She was, after all, a visual person.

He was simply glad to have found her again, she had last lived over fifty years past in a small village of France. Every time, Jareth was drawn to her because her faith in the supernatural was like a candle in the darkness of the world. He had always found her because of it and she had always recognized him as he was. She was never truly surprised to see him.

Jareth could still remember where he had last seen her, those years past.

She had lived in a small village, though he had forgotten the name, and had lived by herself. Her older brother had been lost in the war along with her father and her mother had perished from the grief. She had worked as a seamstress to earn her bread and tended to her cottage. And behind the small cottage, there was a garden.

The garden was simple, it held only a few flowers and mostly herbs, but beautiful. Just as its tender was simple but beautiful. Her dress was worn, her hands calloused, and her hair hidden by a cloth. But a beauty and serenity flowed from her, from her bewitching eyes to her always present smile. She bad been the joy of her widowed mother and the darling of the little village.

Before the war she had a promising future for there was no doubt that, when she came of age, she would be quickly married. However, after the war the number of men was few and she had no wish to marry. She had not wanted to marry, have children, then see them be killed in another war. For she had no doubt that the foolishness of men would lead to more disputes and more death. She was so weary of death and sorrow.

At the time her imagination was the only thing that had gotten her through the dreary world around her. In her mind, even the most boring of tasks suddenly became a quest. When her village would crowd into the church basement when sirens went off, she would entertain the little ones with tales and songs. For a time they were able to forget about the danger around them and could be lost in an epic.

When the war ended the little ones would still flock around her as she worked to listen to her tales. She gave them with gladness and joy, for that was what she felt when she told her stories, even the most gruesome tale brought her happiness in the telling of it.

In her life, he had been drawn to her because she had told the story of the Labyrinth. She should have known better, but she still told it. One of the children who listened to her called upon him as a joke and was terrified when he appeared. The child ran to the only being he thought could help and Sarah took one look at Jareth before asking, in a calm tone, "You're him, aren't you? The Goblin King." She had known him before he even spoke a word to her and he had loved her for it.

She had calmly explained to the frightened boy that it was wrong to summon beings, even if he had thought no one would come when called, and she had asked Jareth if he could overlook the infringement.

Jareth, of course, said that he could not and she had understood. After all, what's said is said and all that. Instead, she offered to take whatever punishment the Goblin King had decided for the child. It was, after all, her fault for telling the child the tale.

He had been delighted at the offer and had accepted it without hesitation. He would have taken her back to his kingdom, but she had asked to stay and continue to tell the little ones tales. Even after he had awoken her memories, she still asked to remain where she was and encourage the faith of magic in the children.

They had, in the end, come to a compromise and she spent her days in the mortal world and her nights in his. It was a comfortable time and they enjoyed each others company. And then, as it always happened, she died.

It had been something as simple as being in the wrong place at the wrong time. She had accepted a ride back to her cottage from her little shop, it had been raining heavily, and the automobile had been hit by another. The driver of the automobile that had been the cause of the accident had lived through the accident with only a few broken bones. He had not lived much longer after that, but he had survived the impact. Her friend whom had been driving the car she was in had also survived, he would not be able to use his left hand, but he had lived.

She, however, had not.  

Fate never did give them more than a few decades together before she was taken from him. When he found her, the clock began to tick until her death. She never lived past thirty and he could never predict how she would die.

In the first world war her home had been hit with a bomb, the time before that she had fallen from her horse, before that it an illness, she had been shot in the head, killed in the Russian revolution while trying to smuggle the two youngest royal children to safety, beheaded at the guillotine, killed by a jealous queen, poisoned by a man she spurned, and the list went on and on.

At times they were almost laughable, but her death always pained him and it always took him a few decades to get back to almost normal. Even then he was not the same until he found her again and then he knew that it was only a matter of time before she was taken from him.

Nothing he ever did was enough to protect her, they would meet, they would fight, they would love, and eventually she would die. He could do nothing to prevent it and he could only enjoy the short time gifted to him with her.

Jareth hoped that, when she found the path back, she would return to Faery with him and live a longer life. He hoped that if she came away with him she would live out a lifetime with him before her death. Her death was inventible, but he would rather spend time with her and be parted with her then never see her again.

He would never understand how mortals could live with the knowledge that, one day, they would be parted with the ones they loved. It would drive him into madness, to even consider being parted from her forever caused him sorrow.

She was in her late twenties, she never made it into her thirties, they were running out of time and it was beginning to tire him. Jareth was constantly on alert for any sign of danger that could harm her, it was one of the reasons he was always watching her, and a reason why he had brought her into the castle. The Labyrinth held too many variables to control. Though the castle was not safe, it was a better option than the Labyrinth or, heaven help, her world.

Her time was running out and he had no wish too see her die again.

A/N: Sarah being an Old Soul is a nod to L.J. Smith's night world series. They are souls that die and are reincarnated and I have always loved the idea of them. If you have not read the series I highly recommend them and her Forbidden Game, which I shamelessly own a copy of, though the Night World series have not been completed, I believe that each book can be read as a stand alone. Also, the Forbidden Game is the closest thing I could ever find to the Labyrinth and Julian is basically a younger, bolder, version of Jareth. He even plays the part of the Erlkoenig. He is also part of my fictional male harem.