Chapter Eighteen: The Immovable Object
At first she had gone unnoticed amidst the quiet of the night and the natural chill of the winter air but too many years of spying and the constant experience of teaching slippery students had granted him enough sharpness of the senses to catch the slight ruffle of her wings in the night wind. Her presence, once acknowledged, compelled and commanded in a way that resembled its master, since whenever Jareth the Goblin King entered a room there was no way of avoiding looking at him at least once. She was different though, almost as if her presence compelled to look the other way, shrouding her in shadows of mystery that, much to Severus' dismay, he found strangely appealing.
"Students are not supposed to be out and about in the castle after curfew" the crisp, no-nonsense tone of voice of the Potions Master carried easily in the equally-crisp, equally cold air of the night. The being acknowledged the question by titling her head to a side, the moon exposing the other side so beautifully tattooed. Perched precariously on the edge of a windowsill near the balcony where the Potions Master was more steadily located she looked more creature than person than ever, the way she managed to maintain her equilibrium in quite an animal-like posture.
"But I'm not in the castle, professor, I'm atop the castle"
It was strange to see the girl again speaking without her voice, the androgynous tone not suiting it at all. But what suited it more, and upon closer inspection Severus wondered how he had missed it at all, was the older look it wore now, roughly around twenty-four or so human years.
"This is my real appearance" the being's voice echoed somehow, knowing the train of thought of the black-haired wizard "I assumed a younger look first to put all of you off-guard and then to pretend to be a seventh-year. But it gets uncomfortable after a while, so I have reversed to my original self for the night" there was a pause, as if the creature was considering something "Do you like it better?" she asked as an afterthought.
It was a rather innocent question, if not a bit off, but who was to tell what was normal at that point, anyhow? Fae existed, Voldemort was back and because of that disgusting Umbridge woman he found himself agreeing with Minerva McGonagall, of all people. And on a daily basis.
"I wonder why a being of such... reputed wisdom enjoys asking petty questions and reading silly fictional stories" the snide reply came so naturally it would have scared any other person. But the Potions Master had lived like that too long to do anything else but like it.
"And I wonder why someone of such cunning doesn't do a better job at avoiding the issue" the being replied, the tone not matching the almost playful phrasing of its answer "In the Underground I am considered ugly, not because I am naturally a visually-unappealing person but because my features give away what I am... A grey half-breed. It's still strange to me not to scare people that haven't seen my true form before"
It was only a slight shift in the girl's position that gave away the fact that she wasn't used to sharing much of her life or her private thoughts. Severus Snape remembered then and there what the Fae King had said about him and the Halfling being very similar. It certainly seemed so now.
"He said that, right..." Sin's ghostly voice carried in the wind, faintly amused "No doubt to shock you regarding my title. He thought it was funny then when he titled me... His own private joke, that no one but the people from Aboveground would be able to get, since the Underworld is devoid of Christian and Jewish lore" the girl paused and then shook her head "I am not reading you mind. I simply know what you are thinking, like I know everything else. I cannot help it. Though I understand it must be troubling to a person so used to leaving the people around him in the dark about himself"
Severus didn't want to be amazed or curious at all, but it was almost palpable the way the soulless girl in front of him was uninterested in anyone and everything yet she remained polite and seemed curious about him. And didn't deem it something to hide. But the most ridiculous part that he shared that particular characteristic with Harry Potter, of all things. The Granger girl was the only one who made any sense at all. Still it had been years since something so female and so obviously beautiful (however unusual that beauty was) had taken such keen interest in him. Some part of him was appalled at the surge of attraction he had to fight back sometimes when he gazed at her though the corner of his eye. The logical part of him, however, had a perfectly good explanation. Alassin Zane was not a student, nor a human, nor an inhabitant of Aboveground at all. It... she... was an Undergrounder, a Fae and more precisely half succubus, a female Sex Demon. There would have to be something extremely wrong with him if he didn't view her in a sexual way at all, he assumed.
"Do you know what the Dark Lord is doing right now?" his train of thought had shifted so rapidly when that particularly idea had popped into his head he was asking the question before he knew it. The girl's facade didn't change as she nodded, her eyes suddenly focusing on a faraway spot beyond the Forbidden Forest.
"He suspects you are a spy. Lucius Malfoy has been planting that idea into his head ever since he was resurrected. He has failed to acquire proof, though" there was suddenly a faint ghost of a smirk upon the girl's lips "He has been punished several times for that fact, actually"
Severus found it necessary to suppress a smirk of his own, but he sobered up enough to maintain his reputation. It was no news to him that the Dark Lord suspected him and, though it was unsettling to have it confirmed by a source that could get "inside the Dark Lord's head", the notion that Malfoy had paid dearly for his backstabbing ways left him feeling more than content.
"You know then what the Dark Lord is planning" another nod, but the creature averted her eyes "Pity then that you cannot tell us"
Once again the luminous eyes of the Librarian settled on him, her head cocked to a side allowing her long hair (which seemed to get longer by the minute) to fall entirely onto one of her barely-clad shoulders. Despite the snow-covered castle and ground and the chilly air it always seemed that the less the being was wearing the better, hence the current grey tank top and baggy black pyjama pants rolled up past her knees. Severus had long ago figured out by the sheer coldness of the girl's skin that any slightly warm temperature felt hot for her.
"I cannot understand how such an observant human can be so wrong about what is right under his nose... Such a cruel tongue. Takes one to know one"
No further explanation was offered. Another thing to get used to, Severus gathered, since dropping ominous hints and telling half the information, or less, seemed to be a common Fae practise. Especially for the Librarian.
Another shift and the girl raised her eyes toward the interior of the castle.
"Someone's coming" she said seconds before she was nothing more than a puff of black smoke curling in the air of the night, smelling strangely like berries. Suspecting Filch of snooping around the most secluded parts of the castle to report to his mistress (that part of the thought almost deserved a shudder) Professor Snape swished his long robes out of the way as he made his way through the shadows of the hall to his Dungeons, missing not the solitary time he had craved for mere hours ago.
The Christmas season had apparently been eventful for all of the members of the Order of the Phoenix, not just the few who had stayed in Hogwarts to celebrate it. More than cheer and joy the little holiday had left all of them, for different reasons, in a state of acute discontent. The Potions Master was in a particular foul mood due to his unsatisfactory visit to the Order's Headquarters the day after his disconcerting rooftop encounter. Harry Potter, whose moody personality was the mark of his fifth year so far, was extra grumpy and sensitive, probably due to what was also making the Slytherin Head of House seethe constantly. The brunt of the sudden flares of temper were suffered by his close friends in silence and it was perhaps their blind understanding of his position that upset him the most, as he was sure none of them could really even begin to comprehend the extent of his rage and his current predicament, yet they put up with it because they were sure Harry must have a good reason, no matter how many times the boy shouted that he was fine.
In any other set of circumstances Sarah Williams would have tried in her own disconnected and rather awkward way to show some support, some empathy and help to her younger housemates, but so much had piled up on her own plate that she found herself strangely self-absorbed and in need of help, but at the same time unwilling to recognize she actually had a problem. Because the nature of the problem was, at best, juvenile.
Jareth was ignoring her.
With all that was happening around her, Voldemort, that odious Umbridge, the Order of the Phoenix and the knowledge that the Death Eater were being fully reassembled she was ashamed to admit that what occupied most her mind was the subtle cold shoulder that the Fae King was giving her. He was good at it too, not refusing to talk to her or anything of the sort but restraining all of their conversations to her training and lessons on the Underground. Though he maintained the slightly playful and ever-irreverent attitude towards life in the castle (and in general) it felt now more of a facade designed to keep her out of whatever was really happening with him than anything else. And though his attitude infuriated her it bothered her more her response to it. Whereas before she had dreaded the Underground King's attention, now that she didn't have it she all but craved it.
She knew women like that... She despised women like that. And though she knew she was not being a tease for the sake of it, because she could, that didn't make her feel any better. All she ever felt was fear... Fear when he was too close and even more when he seemed to pull far away.
She had gone to Katie for advice. Angie and Licia were good friends but they had enough worries dealing with their boyfriends to pile on top of that Sarah's emotional crisis. Katie, though having never been in a relationship, was surprisingly insightful, which made her a good chaser. She was good at observing people and understanding them. But even she was having a hard time following the emotional rollercoaster that was Sarah and Jareth's twisted relationship.
"I don't get it Sarah" Katie finally said from her perch atop one of Gryffindor's couches, the one in front of the now-roaring fireplace "You lived for seven years without having direct contact with Jareth and when he's pulling away now you get worried?"
The black-haired girl sitting in the rug by the fireplace gave the other one a half smile.
"You don't get it. This is the first time I've ever been apart from Jareth like this. It's the dreams, you see" she paused to laugh mirthlessly "He doesn't visit me in my dreams anymore"
There was more laughter after that admission, a harsh, unpleasant sound that echoed across the nearly-empty room. Every other Gryffindor was having dinner but Sarah has pleaded a headache and Katie had stayed behind to look after her.
"I know... I know" Sarah was on a rant now, and trying to stop her rather hysterical laugh to speak "I made a very big deal about him coming to my dreams when I first found out... I felt betrayed and embarrassed and I lashed out taking for granted Jareth would force his presence on me brushing aside my pleas to get out if my life and my dreams. But he actually seemed to listen, for once"
Katie bit her lower lip to keep herself from blurting out many truths her friend was clearly not ready to acknowledge as such. She was curious about one thing, though, and it related to the very beginning of Sarah's Jareth-devoid dreams. She knew she had still been dreaming of him (was that even the correct expression for what Jareth and Sarah experienced during their slumber?) when they had gotten back from the Underground, and even when Jareth had been lying half dead in the Hospital Ward.
The key to it all, as Katie saw it, lay in the mysterious visit Jareth had paid someone in the Underground right after the Christmas trip to Hogsmeade. No one had been able to find out where the hell he had been and the only clue was that his Librarian had been incredibly upset (a major show of emotion coming from her) when he had come back. The usual group had been hanging around the tower except for the Headmaster and the Deputy Headmistress when Jareth had stormed in, coat billowing in a very Snape-eat-your-heart-out fashion, with his minion trailing behind in full Slytherin student disguise.
"There's a reason we don't go there often, Sire" she had said as she took a seat in front of His Majesty's throne-like chair, unwilling to be dismissed till she was forced to by the king "No good comes from talking to them. They hate us and they loath you!"
"I needed answers and for once you held none"
"This is not about me, it's about you. You die and we die"
"I'm fine, Sin, everything is bloody fine!"
"No it's not. You defied them and they won't take it kindly. You should have learned from your father's mistakes"
Apparently the half-breed crossed some sort of invisible line with that comment. Furious beyond words the king's eyes darkened till they seemed to be the same colour. His very posture grew menacing, his riding crop hitting the side of the throne hard to emphasize the next words that came out of the monarch's mouth:
"Get out of my sight, Sin, right now!"
There was an unpleasant hiss the Halfling bent over in pain, hair falling around her face to cover the unpleasant look on her face. Turning the unconscious movement into a stiff bow the creature straightened out with some difficulty and turned around to disappear in a cloud of sulphuric smoke. No one had dared say anything in reproach, no matter how Hermione was itching for it or how Harry was frowning, temporarily unconcerned about his impending Occlumency lessons with the Slytherin Head of House. There was an unspoken understanding that something was wrong and the king was not to be messed with.
It was not like anyone had time to mess with him either. From Trelawney getting royally sacked to the Quibbler being banned more havoc was being caused by the Ministry's interference in Hogwarts (in the form of a certain toad-like bureaucrat) than by the result of having two magical entities of unfathomable powers from another realm roam around the castle at their leisure. Sarah's situation as the Head Girl was only getting harder. She had discovered, horrified, that a group of ministry owls has tried once to intercept one of her letters to Toby, as innocent as it was, and only Oaklyn's bizarre size and therefore strength had saved her missive, even though the family owl had gotten a couple of close scratches to the eyes, nothing serious according to Hagrid. She knew her owl hadn't been the only one to be targeted but she still fumed silently.
Things at home seemed not to be working on her favour either. Karen had gotten some complaints, mailed by the Head Bitch herself, and had banned all mirrors from the house, knowing that Sarah liked to keep an eye on her siblings and talk to them using that particular fashion. She hadn't realized before how much access to her family she had had all those years away from them in school while the other kids had had to satisfy themselves with letters and brief visits. She had never been so cut out from people she had grown used to over the years and it was somewhat upsetting to realize the king ranked with her family in the list of people she felt particularly close to.
He was still close, physically speaking. Too close sometimes, when they sparred, close enough to cut a lock of hair or leave a small trial of blood running down her arm, nothing some of his ointment couldn't fix in the blink of a mismatched eye.
"Concentrate, Sarah" the king hissed in one of such moments as the raven-haired girl let down her guard briefly for the third time in the last ten minutes of their training session. She looked exhausted, the direct result, one would assume, of having to hold together the remains of her many shattered worlds, which had collided together and exploded in a matter of days. Had she been the Sarah from before Winter Break she would have scoffed at the idea of being unable to cope with things as they were (particularly with a blissfully innuendo-free Jareth as well as Jareth-free), but as she finally threw the cutlass she had been trying on for size to the floor she realize she was not as strong as she had thought once upon a time.
"I am bloody concentrating, Jareth, but my body is shutting down as we speak. I have no more to fight you with today"
"Well, tough luck, princess" the king's voice, usually so naturally pleasant to her ears (uncomfortably pleasant at times) had a snide edge to it lately and it made her skin crawl the wrong way "Whatever you'll be using that cutlass against will not care how tired you are. It will not hesitate or relent or grant you a break. It will be stronger than you, stealthier than you and with more of a killer instinct, I guarantee you that" he paused, as if to let his dooming words sink, his expression indicate he was, deep down, taking some sick pleasure in them "Pick up your weapon and fight me, little girl"
Even though the king would be lying if he said a part of him was not dying over the display of cruelty towards what basically was his beloved, the other part of him that was more king than man revelled in the newfound authority and strength.
"No" her defiance, such a cornerstone of their relationship, reared its ugly head again "I'm done for the day. Go torture some small animal or goblin look-alike"
Jareth rose from his crouching position then, his lips pulled back in snarl of disgust.
"Still so selfish, Sarah, so willing to believe everything I've done I've done for you" the irony of those words, echo of a song that told the two occupants of the room precisely the opposite from that the Fae had said, was not lost on Jareth, but it was on the weary and barely-standing Sarah "The Labyrinth, that sentient bastard, needs you, and my entire kingdom depends on its well-being. If you die I'll be the one left trying to hold the pieces together. It's highly temperamental and volatile. For some reason clearly lost to me it likes you too much for me to allow you to walk around without a thorough knowledge of self-defence"
A part of Sarah understood his reasoning and agreed wholeheartedly with it, but another part, the part that was confused and upset and missing the slightly-inappropriate Goblin King instead of the indifferent, glacial creature before her, wanted to cry, curl up and die. She had never thought that a true fight with Jareth, particularly one where she was not the one being offended and angry for some reason or the other, could feel this awful. It had not manifested itself at first as a searing pain but as a dull throb. But little by little, day after day, it had grown bigger and bigger, and stronger and stronger the more time she spent with the King and his new, horrible persona.
"I can't do this anymore" she finally spat out, not really knowing whether she was talking about the training session or something much bigger "I'm tired, Jareth... Everything's wrong, and everything I do is wrong, and things just keep getting worse and worse. I'm tired and sorry but I don't know what about. I'm just sorry!"
There was a heavy clang as Sarah's cutlass fell to the floor. The girl herself would have fallen but weeks of training had given her enough stamina to hold on.
"I'm going to take a shower and talk to Hoggle and the others" she whispered into the silence of the room, not knowing whether the king was interested in listening.
"Hoggle, Hoggle, that cowardly old midget" Jareth spat out the minute the mortal girl had left the tower "With all his talks about them 'being friends' and insulting me to endear himself to the girl"
He paced the room, quick, angry strides carrying him from one side to the other. He had thought at first that the talk with the sisters, albeit painful and demeaning, had given him some sort of direction. He thought he would feel better, retribution always settling well with him. But anger consumed him during the day, directed at everyone and no one at the same time. And by night he hardly slept and when he did he hardly dreamed. And no matter what he did he could not rest, waking up as if he hadn't slept a wink at all.
He concluded after much thinking that he needed a new source of answers, a person who understood him and had at the same time gone through a situation of denying a bond with a mate as well. The Underground, in all its vastness, only house one such person and it was with a powerful sense of purpose that Jareth, King of the Goblins and Ruler of the Underground, crossed realms to seek a private audience with his High Healer, Zhou, under the flimsy pretext of being concerned over his Librarian's continued exposure to high levels of iron in the Aboveground.
"You love her for no reason... And you hate her for it, even if she is not to blame"
"Had she not wished her brother away I would have never met her. Of course it's her fault" came the barked reply.
"Predestination and its consequences are not in the hands of mortals. Or us. To an extent she's been played as much as you" there was a pause as if the speaker were looking for the right words "You keep treating her like she knows everything when in reality it's you the one with the full picture. She fumbles in the dark and you get upset over the fact that she cannot seem to see you as clearly as if you were enveloped in light"
"It's the lack of a reason that's killing you. Stay here, get to know her. If there is something worth loving then act accordingly. If not, leave her behind. She'll fade eventually and you'll be rid of her, and we'll be safe again. I know you better than most, my boy, and I can say for sure that you would survive her, unlike other Fae. I can guarantee you it's not impossible, only costly"
There was such regret in the voice of the old man that Jareth shuddered, imagining himself so full of regret thousands of years into the future. He realized then that Moira had been the lucky one of the pair to have died first, while the belief in the necessity of their separation was alive and strong. He knew Zhou thought different now, the years having given him more than enough hindsight.
"I know what we did was right, but I no longer believe it" the old man patted one of Jareth's hands in a very paternal gesture "You could end up like me, my boy, so think carefully about what will most likely dictate your future happiness"
There was no accusation in his voice, even if Jareth had technically been the one to take Moira away from him. She had lived a life of celibacy in exchange for the privilege of bringing up the child of a God, and far from being upset Zhou had chosen to remain nearby and help, exercising over the course of a day more self-control than most Fae could in a lifetime. Theirs would have been otherwise a happy, simple life, in spite of Moira's temper and Zhou's notable healing powers.
"Don't go there, lad, I'm wise enough not to regret the extensive family I have, the career I've developed under your sadly-questioned generosity and the years I enjoyed of companionship by the side of a woman who was always beyond my reach" he was referring, this time around, to Moira's higher place in society, since she had been a princess, though the bloodline she had sprung from was long gone now "You built the Kingdom we always imagined you would, so as far as I'm concerned you've made good use of our sacrifice, if indeed it can be called so"
The figure in white rose gracefully, as if he was tens of thousands years old. The staff in his hand was not used to help his rise at all, he seemed to be all youth and health, if one took not into account his long beard and white hair.
"Keep Sin safe, will you? There's too much iron in that place, I could feel it in her bones yesterday when she came for a brief examination, and the girl will never tell you just how ill it feels, you know that. And I would be disappointed if I hear you have gone up that mountain again, to talk to that group of lunatic sisters"
It was all said in a soft, soothing tone, very much appropriate for a healer. Yet Jareth was not fooled, there was a hint of warning in the delivery, a certain fire behind the peaceful gaze of the old man.
"Come visit again soon. Julius is one step from starting to second-guess himself even with the most inconsequential of decisions. Soon he will be unable to even dress himself in the mornings. I dare say he would prefer to be directing some major battle than settling land disputes in the Wild Lands"
Those were words of gentle dismissal, and no one but Zhou could have gotten away with addressing the blond-haired ruler in that particular tone of voice. Jareth smiled, a little more sincerely than he had been smiling lately, and produced a crystal to get him back to Hogwarts out of thin air, not bothering with the pretty hand gestures for once.
Hogwarts was a grim place, beneath all the rumours buzzing in the air and the nervous tension displayed openly by most staff members and students. The castle was in silent mourning, knowing its leader had been taken from them, forced to exile himself. Hogwarts was a taken fortress and the dark clouds and ominous thunder displayed in the enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall was an open manifestation of that.
There was fear in the face of many students, and even in the shifting glances of some of the professors (many who probably thought their job was on the line). Filius Flitwick was a sobbing and drunken mess, complaining to a very worried Poppy Pomfrey (who was struggling to get him to the Infirmary without anyone seeing him in such a state) about his inhuman genes and how they were bound to get him sacked.
"I've grown so usssssssssed to the respect and open-mindednessssssss of people such as Dumbledorrre that I had *hic* actually fo'gotten how hard it had been to gesh a reshpectable shob on the firsht place!"
Severus Snape had locked himself in the dungeons, unsure about where he stood with the new management. He knew that Malfoy's connections with the ministry could spare him some serious trouble but he wasn't so sure the blond wizard would do him any favours without a specific request from the Dark Lord. But thoughts of his position were shoved aside as he tried to get used to the pang of loneliness he felt. He had seldom been so out of touch with the Headmaster, the one true ally he had ever had, even if he was a nerve-grating old coot most of the times. It truly shocked him to realize how he had come to depend on the fortified tea and light conversation after a Death Eater meeting or the stern talks about House fairness (no doubt prodded by some commentary from a certain Scottish teacher the Headmaster couldn't seem to say no to).
The mentioned Scotswoman stood proud in the centre of her little realm, her Transfiguration Classroom, magically sweeping the room for any sort of bugs or nasty spells that the ministry lately seemed fit to thrown around the castle "accidentally". The process, for one raised in an era of war and forced back into another one after a few years of respite, was as automatic and as effortless as breathing, which allowed the raven-haired witch to ponder about what would be her next movement. She knew were everyone's loyalties lay and was not afraid of the ministry or it's toad, since they had very few friends inside the walls of the castle. Secrets orders would have to be given, many to ensure that the education of the students didn't suffer and this new reign of terror and others to ensure that Hogwarts and its many secrets were kept hidden and safe. Poppy Pomfrey had stopped by, before she had suggested she went to look after the Head of Ravenclaw, but had dared not voice aloud her concerns for her friend. Madame Hooch was having a similar problem as she hovered in the threshold of the room, trying to find a way to communicate what the entire staff and many students were thinking: that out of anyone in the castle, Minerva McGonagall had to be the one suffering most from the absence of Albus Dumbledore.
"I'm perfectly all right, Rolanda, honestly" she said for the umpteenth time, all serenity and patience tinted with the first signs of irritation "And you can tell that to Pomona as well so she can be saved the trouble to come here and fidget unnecessarily"
It mattered not that Rolanda was the same age as Minerva... The later always managed to make the former feel like a first-year student caught cheating on a test when the Head of Gryffindor took that tone with her.
"I'll tell her" she finally relented, sighing and reluctantly walking down the hall to the greenhouses. Once blissfully alone the Transfigurations Teacher closed the door and sealed it magically and lowered all the drapes. After making sure all the outlines for her classes were properly organized she walked over to the magically-operated gramophone. Soon some waltz was feeling the air, drowning out the sounds of a woman weeping.
Atop the tower there was one last person getting wind of the big news concerning Headmaster Dumbledore. Jareth, sitting in his throne-like chair, listened in grave silence as his Librarian filled him in, keeping no small detail to itself.
"This does present a bit of a problem in our plans, but I trust we'll manage to keep our little operation under wraps" he paused as he saw the faint worry lines in the face of the Fae in front of him "What's the matter, Sin?"
"I'm worried about my three humans, master" the monotone voice held the slightest hint of emotion "Things here are going to get ugly. I don't like that woman, she knows no boundaries and her mind is deeply perturbed for what I've cared to investigate"
The king had spent so much of his time Above pondering about Sarah (in a good or a bad way) that he had, till this moment, given little importance to the unnatural bond that Lucifer, in all its indifferent glory, had created with three human beings. It was well known among the Unwanted that the Halfling, for some strange reason, did not like humans or the mere mention of the world Above. Now that he thought about it he ought to have expected more of a fight from Alassin, yet the creature had been causing no apparent problems.
"Say, Sin, fair girl... Why did you decide to get chummy with a group of mortal humans? You must admit it is rather strange. You barely care about other people at all"
There was a pause as the questioned girl titled its head, trying to come up with some sort of answer.
"They are very different from us, aren't they? So many flaws and faults, yet they are free and we, as perfect as we are said to be, are not. We cannot chose who we love, we cannot chose who we serve" there was a brief pause as the being briefly looked at Jareth in a manner indicating that, though she meant him, it was not criticizing him "So much of our lives is fate, so much it's been already written. You saved me because I was wished away and because it was meant for you to meet me so I would serve you. Jules loved me first because we shared a similar origin, already bound in a manner of speaking. But they were free to walk away and they didn't. They chose to help, they chose me... Without a hidden reason, without a calling or a destiny. They decided"
The creature shrugged, not knowing if it made sense. Before exiting the tower to head to the rooftops under the protective cover of the night she turned to voice aloud something Jareth had failed to contemplate before.
"Somehow that they chose... It makes it more special, doesn't it?"
And then the Fae was gone and so was some of the King's anger and resentment.
AN: I've no excuses, as usual. I will try to update every three or four months. I apologize again and I know this is a filler chapter and nothing much happens, but it's a build up for the beginning of the end. I also tried to keep the original characters as very secondary ones so as to not force my one creations upon you (after all you came to read about Harry Potter and The Labyrinth, so I keep that in mind while indulging a little on some added characters).
Whatever is not clear please tell me. Odds are it will eventually be explained as the plot unravels but in some cases I truly take for granted you know certain things you actually don't (it's the fact that I've got all this story in my head).
I'll get this chapter Beta Proofed (If my beta, a saint as she is, can consent to read it, since I bet she had moved on and barely remembers this fic or its MIA author.
Well, enjoy, and I promise more understanding between Jareth and Sarah in later chapters.