Pairing: Jareth x Sarah
Disclaimer: don't own.
Summary: Sarah has had quite a few birthdays. This one though…
Author's Note: Just a little drabble written in hopes of making it snow.
On her sixteenth birthday, Sarah swore she'd never speak Jareth's name again.
One must understand that this particular date occurred only a week after she had run the Labyrinth and she was currently… well, disappointed.
Almost like the day after Christmas, when the tree is still up but somehow empty with all the presents unwrapped and tucked away.
The night after she returned, Sarah had danced like a mad woman with her friends, knowing that Jareth would have to come and say something about it. How could he not? It was a slap in the face, a blow to his dignity. He'd have to do something.
But he didn't.
Sarah was confounded... and oddly hurt. So the next week, while sitting cross-legged on her bed, surrounded by her friends and cohorts she announced, "I'm tired of talking about Jareth. I don't think I ever will again."
They all laughed, leaned back, took another swig from the bottle of whatever Labyrinthine booze it was Hoggle had acquired and let the moment slip past.
On her seventeenth birthday, Sarah swore she'd never be that stupid again.
It was ridiculous to go on ignoring a man who didn't realize she was ignoring him in the first place. It wasn't going to bring him sweeping down into her bedroom and it certainly wasn't going to force him into whisking her away. He was a grown man, for god's sake… well, a grown what-ever-he-was anyway. She very much doubted he'd be susceptible to the sort of teenage hysterics she was accustomed to seeing.
Right. So ignoring him was the epitome of useless.
Once she'd come to this decision, she began to pry carefully for news of the underground from her friends. Little things— gossip really. Which balls were being held when, who was who's Royal Consort, that sort of thing. Nothing world shattering. Certainly nothing worth catching Jareth's attention.
Halfway between her seventeenth and eighteenth birthday, Sarah realized she'd stopped trying for that.
On her eighteenth birthday, Sarah graduated.
Well, actually she graduated the week before, but the last few weeks of school and the first few of freedom blurred together in such a magnificent sprawl of color that she couldn't keep track of the time if she tried.
And it was somewhere in this blur of color and exhilarating freedom that Sarah decided this half-way little life of hers was Not Enough. She had seen to the edges of the world and beyond, she had run the entirety of the Labyrinth, she had conquered kings and been conquered in return. She was in love with a mythical being and her best friend was a gnome. This sad little reality could not hold her anymore.
And so Sarah packed a bag (mostly jeans—dresses, she knew, wouldn't agree with her very long), kissed her family goodbye and took the crystal from its hiding place in the very back of her underwear drawer.
Jareth didn't know she had it—didn't know she'd beaten the Labyrinth and stolen his gift as well. The crystal had been meant to amuse her brother as he played on the steps, and when she'd jumped, well… the crystal just sort of followed. Halfway between falling and floating, it'd bumped against her hip and unthinking, she'd grabbed it.
She could think of no better wish than this.
"Majesty!" the little goblin panted with the force of his running, skidding to a stop before the throne.
Jareth shot him a sharp look, having been interrupted mid-sentence. Had the creature not looked half-panicked, he'd have tossed him head first into the bog without a thought.
"What do you want, you simpering excuse for life?" he snapped. The last few years had not left him in the best of moods.
"The girl!" he panted, gesturing wildly for the door.
Jareth brought his legs down from the arm of the throne, musing on which of the girls running the Labyrinth at the moment could possibly pose any sort of threat.
"The girl that won, Majesty! She's here!"
"Impossible." And then, because hope can rarely be killed, "Where?"
"The outer gardens, sir."
Jareth shook his head, the hope dying a little.
"You must be mistaken. She'd have entered the Labyrinth."
"No, you don't understand," it took a very brave goblin to speak those words within a hundred feet of the king. "She's not doing nothin', sir. She's just… sitting there."
Well… that was certainly a very… Sarah thing to do. Jareth allowed himself a private little smile and rose from the throne, wondering how the hell Sarah had managed to get here without his knowledge and why she hadn't made a nuisance of herself yet.
Yet. He knew damn well she would if he didn't give her his full attention within the next hour.
Sarah smiled at the peach scented snap of magic beside her, but didn't turn from her position sprawled on the grassy hill.
"Hello, Jareth," she said, that simple, happy smile growing a little. "Beautiful day, isn't it?"
Jareth smiled and lay down on the grass beside her as if there had never been a war. As if he'd never been feared, forgotten, remembered, hated…
As if he'd only ever been loved.
"It will be now, I expect."
And it was.
Killer dose of fluff there. XD But I've just published another book if you're interested. This one's about ancient vampires falling in love with not-so-ancient witches and somehow it managed to fill itself with sunshine and vague humor while I wasn't looking. You can find it at:
www [dot lulu [dot com [slash content [slash 1776881