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Shattered	By : TarnishedArmour Category: G through L > Labyrinth Views: 7714 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: Based upon the work of Jim Henson; specifically Labyrinth, copyright 1986 by Jim Henson & associated parties. I do not own or have legal rights to Labyrinth, etc., or make any profit from them. *Individual disclaimers for other works in

Chapter List
- 20
- 21
- 22
Karen stared out the window at the rain. Sarah had left them in early June. It was now August. Toby was with his grandparents, as he had been for most of the past month. Robert was currently out of town for business, his firm having been retained to work a corporate merger or takeover for some nearby company. She didn't know and didn't really care. All that mattered was that he wasn't here. Her relationship with Robert was deteriorating rapidly, despite the information and few calls they had gotten from Sarah.
The calls seemed to infuriate him even more. Currently, they weren't speaking and Karen was spending as much time as she could at her studio.
The telephone rang.
"Hello?" Karen asked when she lifted the receiver.
"Karen?" Came Sarah's voice over the line.
"Sarah!" Karen cried, happy for the first time in weeks. "How are you? Tell me everything!"
Sarah did, mostly.
***
Sarah stood at the door to the Lady's house, her packs set and her freshly tamed magic jittering inside her as she worked to show no sign of nerves. The Lady said nothing, but gave her a kind smile and opened the door. Sarah looked ahead into the swirling ice of the mountaintop, prepared herself for the cold, and stepped through the door.
Into a lush, green valley.
"Okay, this is just freakin' ridiculous," she snapped, putting down her packs and stripping out of her winter gear.
A warm laugh behind her made her pulse leap and her magic strain to be let loose. Every part of her stretched toward the man behind her, her magic aching with want as much as her body did, and she paused in her work to breathe his name.
"Jareth." She turned and looked at him, eyes drinking him in.
"Hello, my dear," he said, smiling at her. "I see you prepared well for your journey." The smile turned into a smirk. "Forget a little detail?" he taunted.
"Apparently," she half-snapped. She finished removing the furs and was working on her layers. She recalled being shunted from one thing to the next in the Outer Lands. After her long trips in the Central Lands, she figured that was over and done with. She was, she now knew, quite wrong.
"Wait," Jareth murmured. "Come here."
Sarah started to say something, then paused. Talking could wait. She walked over, into his arms and breathed deeply of his scent. The smell of leather was there, the clean scent of sandalwood. Now, though, she could smell the dry, rich earth, the cold mountain winds, and the smoky fire--his magic.
Jareth said nothing more, just soaked in her presence. Then, as suddenly as he had appeared, the landscape around them changed. They were back in the wastelands. The magic had rippled around them, like stepping into a pool.
"Why are out here?" Sarah asked, then answered herself. "Oh. Right. The whole sex-magic problem."
"You catch on quick," Jareth said, grinning. She had. In six months, she had learned enough to be considered as an apprentice and sent out to begin learning the path to journeyman and beyond. Remarkable.
"Mm." Sarah gave him an impatient look. "This time, am I going to get more than a tease?" Celibacy had been easy, once she'd gotten used to it. She hadn't really liked it much, though. She got more work done, but there were times that she'd ached for a touch, and received none. Her own hands were useless. She craved the touch of another, a very specific other.
"We'll see. First," he said, running one hand down her body, "we have to see how you do with the teasing."
It was an educational experience in several ways. Sarah learned how it felt to be touched intimately after months of no physical contact whatsoever. The withdrawl had been difficult. She had become addicted to Jareth very quickly. Nonetheless, she had learned to cope with it. Now, the return of Jareth and his touch was sending her magic into overdrive--and her body into aching, exhilarating need. She arched and moaned, then fought to contain the magic that tore at her control, the magic that thrilled to Jareth's touch as much as her body did. When the ecstasy came, Sarah managed to throw herself into autopilot, slamming up walls around her magic and letting her body take her where it would.
"Very nicely managed," Jareth approved, smiling wickedly at her. "Now, for the main event." With that, he joined her. The magic she had contained fought to be free. Between the struggle to contain it and Jareth's body moving with hers, Sarah lost all sense of herself. Once finished, Jareth was shaking and panting, much as she was.
"Is…" Sarah began, then started again. "Is it always like this?" If the answer was yes, she was certain she would go mad. Sex was work!
"Yes," Jareth gasped out. This had been harder than usual, though. She resonated to his touch, his magic. She had wrung him out. Jaraeth opened his mind and magic to the land around them and slowly drew the strength of the land into himself. It was good to be King. He managed to lift his head and smile at her. "It becomes easier over time. And practice."
"So that's why you're such a slut," she said, then her eyes grew wide. Did she just say that out loud?
Jareth stared at her for a long minute and started laughing. Sarah couldn't help giggling, then they were both laughing so hard they couldn't breathe.
"Moments of truth," he chuckled, giving her a quick kiss. "And yes. Practice and constant exposure makes the magic easier to contain when one is in the throes. Besides, it's fun."
Sarah shook her head, knowing he was telling her only part of the story. "I know that we usually spend a lot longer-"
"Not today, Sarah," Jareth said standing. He wasn't sure he could stand another round with her anytime soon. He had to figure out how to deal with those complimentary magics first. "Here," he stood, lifted her to her feet, and waved his hand. They were both dressed in their usual attire. Sarah's layers and outerwear were neatly stacked by them.
Jareth looked around. "Very well done, my dear. Not even a tiny scorch mark on that rock." Sarah turned to look at a large boulder that had been nearby. Before she had time to preen or reply, he changed the subject entirely. "Sarah, you need to call home."
"How?" she asked, staring at him. "Can I do that?" Random, but she was used to that. Random kingdom, random King. The realization struck her at once. As was the land, so was the King; conversely, as was the King, so was the land. She didn't have time to struggle through the implications of this thought, so she shelved it and listened closely to her King and, yes, lover. The magic quivered insider her again, then lay peaceful. Well, she wasn't going to be upsetting the stuff anytime soon, not if she could help it.
"Well, no. I can make it possible, though." He paused. "I'm going to be reordering time a bit while you are on the line with Karen. You'll be having conversations over the course of two months. I'll let you know where you should say you are." He frowned. "Now, how to make this work," he murmured. He had studied the mortal device of the telephone years before, shortly after its invention. That was when he had been required to change his modus operandi in the human world. He missed the good old days, sometimes. Money and a certain air were enough to quell suspicion and he didn't have to worry about credit cards or background checks. Now he employed an actor who could play the part of the eccentric but harmless man, and he'd been lucky enough to find one with a good business sense. The end result was a rather tidy fortune and a sprawling business empire that required a small army, in the human world and in this one, to run. Ah, well.
After a long moment's thought, he produced one of his crystal spheres. Sarah felt the surge of magic around him when he did that now and swayed on her feet. He was more powerful than she had ever realized. She ached to touch that crystal, to show him the crystal she had produced.
"Use this," he said, the crystal shimmering and growing to become an old-fashioned rotary-dial phone.
"Not touch-tone?" she asked, squinching her nose. "How old fashioned." Sarah, the techno-snob. She'd loved fantasy and magic and fairy tales, but she'd also been drawn to its sister, science fiction. From that, well, she'd wondered what was and wasn't actually possible in her time. Weak in math as she was, she understood drawings and schematics and descriptions. The deep, ground-level stuff that made various technologies possible she would never understand, but this? It was simply a crystal mock-up of a somewhat complex mechanical contrivance. Nothing like the circuit-board in the touch-tone phones.
Jareth started to say something, but noticed her pallor. She was reacting to his magic, not to the telephone he had produced. He felt a surge of pleasure that he had caused her discomfort. She feared him. Good. Still, he said nothing. She would have to learn to live with the power. He had carried the weight of it so long he forgot how others felt when they first perceived it. The dark, wicked parts of him enjoyed her discomfiture and were determined to make it worse for her.
"Dial home. Talk to your parents and to Toby. Tell them we are in…Ireland. After a few minutes, hang up. You'll redial again and I'll tell you where they need to believe we are." Sarah stared at him in disbelief. "Sarah, do not defy me."
Her eyes grew wide in fear, a surge of her magic reminded her it wasn't all fear at the thought of his punishments, and Jareth gave her a purely sinful smile. Sarah felt her body and her magic respond to that shark smile. Myriad images came to her, not all of them the sweet, sensual memories of her awakening.
"Oh, it has been too long, hasn't it?" he purred. "I promise to remedy that soon, but for now…call home." Sometime during this exchange, he had summoned his riding crop. Sarah felt every tap of the crop against his boot. She couldn't help the shiver that tickled her spine, the way the hair on the back of her neck raised.
Trembling and fighting to contain the magic and her deviant thoughts, Sarah did just that.
***
Karen laughed as Sarah told her the truth, what she could never tell her father or Toby.
This was the sixth call she had received from Sarah, and she had no idea they were all in a row in Sarah's time. For Karen, they were weeks apart. More than once, the call had gone through when Robert was home. Sarah had talked to Robert, giving him the cover stories Jareth had fed to her. Toby hadn't been home but once, and Sarah had insisted on talking to him before hanging up, not letting her father get into a long spiel about her coming home "where she belonged".
"When can you come visit?" Karen asked, her voice reflecting her desire to see them both again, and this time together.
"I'll talk with Jareth. Maybe we can manage it soon." Sarah talked a bit longer, then hung up.
Karen smiled, resolving to talk to Jareth on her own. Maybe she could convince him to let Sarah visit.
***
Jareth waited until Sarah replaced the receiver and the crystal vanished. He flashed them back to the green valley and Sarah's packs. Her outerwear was neatly stacked beside her packs now, and she wondered how she would carry it all.
"Something on your mind, Sarah?" he asked, noticing that she hadn't looked at him again.
"I told Karen I'd talk with you about going to visit them," Sarah admitted. "But I have to finish the run first, don't I?"
"Not necessarily." Jareth grimaced. "There's never been a woman who had a loving family at home, so there aren't really any rules for this. There were, long ago, women who chose to run the labyrinth and whose villages would celebrate her choice, knowing she'd be gone forever, but that kind of faith just doesn't exist anymore. People want reasons." Jareth sighed. "So, we can set precedent with this and all will be well."
"I'd like to see them again. Karen didn't really say anything, but I don't think that Dad's being reasonable about my choice to come with you. He tried to sound happy when I called, but…" Sarah sighed. "When would we leave?"
"Right now. You are between tasks. It is the best time to go." He waved his hand. Sarah felt the world spin around her and wobble into place like a spinning coin. She stared around the room. This sure as hell wasn't Kansas, nor was it the valley she had just been in. "My home in the Adirondack Mountains, not far from your town. What is the name of that place again?"
"Shaker's Crossing, New Hampshire," Sarah replied, walking over to the window. The view was breathtaking. She had just left mountains, but nothing like these. "Jareth, it's beautiful."
"Yes," he replied, his eyes skimming over her body, now encased in jeans and a silk blouse. "Quite." He walked up behind her and gave a wicked laugh. "Now, what will this cost you?" he murmured in her ear.
Sarah shuddered, the magic in her surging with her hunger.
"What do you want?" she asked, her mouth suddenly dry. Other parts of her weren't.
Jareth said nothing, but led her into a large room filled with all sorts of things she didn't think she'd see again. Sarah moaned.
"For everything, there is a price," he whispered darkly. "And yours will be…whatever I choose." Sarah shivered at the tone he used. Those days when he had tortured her with pain and pleasure returned, and she was reminded of the peace, the want--she couldn't help it. She enjoyed this dark side, though the extremity of the pain he had given her before was not exactly fun, the pleasure was intense. When it had mixed with the pain... Sarah moaned softly.
"Yes, Jareth," she whispered, her voice breathy.
Jareth laughed quietly, darkly. "Oh, Sarah, I will enjoy this. And so will you." He paused for a minute and then purred, "Strip."
Sarah obeyed, knowing that defiance would turn Jareth's game and the playfulness of his mood into something much worse for her. As she skinned out of her clothes, she wondered how she knew he was playing with her, not intent on giving her serious pain or bending her to his will. The magic in her answered for her. There was a resonance between them, and she opened her lips to ask a question when a familiar braided leather crop pressed lightly against her lips.
"Not now, my dear. If you can remember your name, much less your questions, when we're done here, you may ask them." Sarah nodded, pulse leaping. "Excellent. Now…"
Sarah felt a sense of peace settle over her again, even as she fought down the surges and pulses within her. That was when she realized what Jareth was doing.
He had taken them out of his world, where this could be exceedingly dangerous, and was about to give her more stimuli and mixed, powerful emotions than she had experienced with the Lady, and compress them into a very short amount of time. The fact they would both enjoy it was moot. This was, first and foremost, a time for her to practice control of her magic. What she did not know was that Jareth was struggling with his own magic, the resonances between them so powerful that he was drawn to her magic as much as he was to her.
Sarah shuddered lightly as he directed her to the bed, her wrists quickly shackled into place. The riding crop caressed her breasts, then snapped out, flicking her nipples in quick succession, over and over again. Sarah screamed from the pain of the repeated stings, the bruises forming quickly. She did not expect Jareth to groan and cover her immediately, suckling on her abused nipples as he clumsily stuffed himself inside her. The biting and suckling ached, but the thrust and withdrawl of the man riding her sent her head spinning in pleasure.
As the pain surged through her, as the pleasure increased, Sarah felt her magic ripping and tearing within her. Soon, she was screaming from that metaphysical agony, her body forgotten in the shuddering of orgasm. Jareth screamed with her. It was agony. It was ecstacy. It was perfect. It was started again almost immediately, this time, Jareth used his teeth and hands to bring her to the point where pain and pleasure merged. Again, he couldn't keep himself from taking her roughly, without any skill or finesse, just to feel that harmony of her magic against his singing through him as he spent himself inside her. As she screamed for him. As she bled from a dozen bites. As her skin purpled under his hands, under the slaps to her thighs and cruel grip on her hips, her breasts. The magic surged between them, bringing them closer and driving them to take more and more.
Sarah eagerly turned over, begged her king to whip her properly. He laughed and pulled her to her feet at the end of the bed, pinioning her over the foot of the bed with no way to escape his blows.
"The whip or the strap?" he asked, yanking back on her hair. Listening to her moan in need as her magic rolled up his body and pooled in his groin.
"Your choice, Sire," she gasped, barely coherent and needing the pain he would give her as much as the pleasure she would receive when he had finished with her. Jareth laughed softly in her ear, pressing slowly into her from behind, taking her without lubricant as he stretched her tender rosette. He bent her over the foot of the bed and conjured a thick leather strap. When he was fully seated, he began to strike her back, letting her writhe against him and scream. He rode her then, slowly, then faster as her skin tore and blood made his movement easier. The strap moved from her back to her buttocks, then around to her abdomen and thighs. This time, he came without her, felt her magic strain for release, cleaned himself, and shoved her down onto her back. He took her again, grinding her bruised and aching body into the sheets, making her need and want orgasm, but keeping her just this side of able. When he finally did let her come, she blacked out from the intensity of it.
Three days later, Sarah had become more herself when she played various sex-games with Jareth, as had he become more used to their resonances. Jareth's sisters had given him healing charms to use many years before. He cast them continuously on Sarah and himself, his sheer power and her receptiveness to his magic allowing the spells to work--he was not a strong healer.
As they played out the need for pleasure and pain, they discovered the magic had been easily tamed. The initial moments still required a fight within themselves, but the magic was quickly sated and they were able to indulge their bodies with much vigor and variation. Both were firmly under control when Jareth called Karen and set up a trip the next day to Jareth's mountain retreat.
***
Robert stared at Karen, happiness and rage warring for control.
"You just arbitrarily made this decision?" he snarled. "Did you bother to get directions, or do we just wander in the mountains for forty days and forty nights?"
"I have directions. Jareth-" she began.
"Jareth Rex?" Robert scoffed. "Let me tell you something, you conniving bitch, Jareth Rex is an old man--in his seventies! The man you say went with Sarah could no more be Jareth Rex than Toby could!"
"That is his name, Robert!" Karen shouted back. "And if you don't believe me, go fuck yourself. Or better, go fuck one of those little whores you keep in the steno pool." She looked over at the counter, where dinner was spread out and waiting to be fixed.
She never saw it coming. Robert's fist connected with her side and her breath went out of her. Three blows later, Karen realized that Robert was nowhere near as strong as her abusive ex had been, and rage surged through her, temporarily blocking out the pain of his punches. One slender, delicate hand found the heavy skillet she had out, and Karen swung around, cast iron skillet leading, as hard and fast as her well-trained body could. She had danced through aching body, cramps, bruises, and fevers of over one hundred degrees. She could move fast and hard once, like this.
Robert dropped to the floor like a felled ox. He was out cold. Karen, having fallen to her knees with the force of the turn, stood, dropped back to the ground in agony, and crawled up the stairs to call Jareth, barely managing to raise up long enough knock the crystal off its little stand on her dresser before she fell. It rolled close to her. She put one hand over the sphere.
"Jareth," she whispered, coughing. Blood came up. She knew the feel of broken ribs. "I need you."
Blackness pulled her down, creeping around her vision and overwhelming her. She never saw or heard the footsteps or cries of dismay.
The footsteps belonged to Jareth. The dismay to Sarah.
Jareth worked quickly, using his magic to heal the worst of the wounds, the internal bleeding and fully broken ribs, then set a spell in place to help Karen heal more quickly.
"Sarah," he said.
"Go. I'll be here with Karen." Sarah watched Karen, waiting for her to stir. "Come on, Karen! Come on! Wake up," she urged, now ignoring Jareth.
Jareth headed down the stairs, searching for Robert. He discovered the man sprawled on the floor, still unconscious. He wondered at that. Robert was not a small man, and Karen was built, well, like a dancer. Then he saw Karen's weapon of choice on the floor and winced. That had to hurt. It was amazing that Robert was still alive, actually. He would have a huge bruise, maybe even a cracked skull. Hardheadedness was a trait Sarah had inherited from her father.
Lifting the heavy skillet easily, Jareth returned it to its place on the counter. Then he lifted the unconscious man from his sprawl on the floor and half-dragged him back to the couch in the living room. He decided to see exactly what had happened to cause this small domestic war. Summoning a crystal, Jareth stared into the clear focus and watched the entire scene play out, in full sound and colour.
His lips twitched as he thought of the ancient phrase that preceded such things. The best man certainly had won. Jareth was rather proud of her.
Sarah was upstairs with Karen. When she woke up, Sarah talked with her for a long time. Neither woman noticed how time seemed to speed up. Jareth was getting impatient.
Robert groaned and began to stir. He put a hand to his head and groaned louder. Jareth watched as the man slowly sat up, then spoke, deliberately making his voice loud and grating.
"Well, you must be Sarah's father. Imagine our luck to decide to come see you tonight and find you sprawled out on the kitchen floor. Sarah's upstairs with her stepmother." Jareth was rather pleased when the man winced and cringed at each word.
"Who the fuck are you?" Robert managed, looking up slowly. Every movement of his head hurt. He saw a with a long, blonde ponytail, hair smoothed back perfectly, wearing a dark shirt, obviously from a top-end designer, and a pair of expensive black silk slacks. This did not make Robert's head ache any less. He did not remember the plans for Karen and him to go visit them the next day. He didn't really care. His head hurt too much.
"My name is Jareth Rex," Jareth paused and did a quick mental calculation. "Junior, of course. M'father is the owner of Rex Enterprises. You may have heard of it?"
"Junior?" Robert repeated, muzzy. "He has a son? I didn't hear about that."
"Probably didn't look hard enough," Jareth replied, magically sending orders to his subjects to manufacture and put in place all the pertinent records, not computerized yet, of course. He also made a note to hire a second actor, one who looked like him, and let him start making the rounds with a Sarah look-alike. Damn, making huge plans on the fly was exhausting. This modernization really was a pain in the ass. "Besides, I was born overseas. At an embassy, no less. I've got dual citizenship. Probably have all my records under the other country."
"What?" Robert was not in any condition to get so much information.
"Oh, Ireland. Northern Ireland, actually, so I suppose I'm technically British, not Irish. Never have managed to get that straight. Tend to use my American documents, you know, since I've lived here longest. Oh, well." He reached over, took Robert's hand and jerked him into standing. "Let's go check on the women, shall we?"
Robert swayed and stumbled his way up the stairs, somehow managing to wonder what in the hell was going on.
Karen was sitting up now, Sarah's arms wrapped around her. They were talking quietly. When Robert saw Sarah, he managed to straighten up, his anger and hurt fading as he looked at his beautiful daughter. He started to walk over for a hug and was met with glaring green eyes.
"Don't touch me," Sarah hissed, her voice reflecting her disgust and anger. "Karen is coming with us. And so is Toby. Don't bother to say anything." Sarah stood and helped Karen to her feet. "Maybe I'll call you. Eventually."
"Sarah," Robert said, his voice breaking. "Princess-"
"Don't call me that!" Sarah yelled at him. "Ever. Again."
Sarah didn't wait to hear the excuses, the reasons her father gave. She knew he had changed since her mother left, but she never realized how bad it had gotten. Karen hadn't said anything. Then again, she hadn't needed to. Sarah recognized what had happened to Karen's ribs from the time she had worked the cave-in. Broken ribs, tender skin, bruises-and none of the dark bruises larger than her own double fist. All those years of hearing that no man was worth abuse, that her father would never hurt her or any other woman--all of it fell apart at that moment.
Jareth had beaten Sarah much worse than Robert had hurt Karen, but there was a huge difference to Sarah's way of thinking. She had chosen her path, and it had included no small amount of pain at Jareth's hands. She knew she could end it, though, by opting out of the labyrinth and the chance to become his Queen. So far, the prices she had paid for her dream were odd, occasionally painful, occasionally pleasurable, and always interesting. Karen had done nothing wrong, had given no oaths or anything like Sarah had to Jareth. This was wrong. This was unacceptable. Sarah would not accept it. It had taken all of her control not to lash out magically. Sarah began to wonder if her mother hadn't been hiding bruises, too, when she left.
Karen was silent, eyes closed, as Sarah supported her past Robert and Jareth, out the door and down the stairs to the foyer.
"You've gotten stronger," Karen murmured at the foot of the stairs. Her head was spinning, but her ribs weren't hurting as much. She seemed to get better every time she breathed. "Good for you."
"Karen, I kind of made that decision for you-" Sarah began, apologizing, suddenly guilty for making a choice she had no right to make.
"It was the same one I made about a week ago. I just…didn't want to admit it yet, not…yet. Well, what's done is done." Kareh looked at Sarah with sad blue eyes. She put on a soft, brave smile. "Hell of a homecoming, kiddo."
Sarah just nodded, unable to say anything. She had no idea her leaving was going to make Karen suffer like this.
Upstairs, Robert collapsed onto the bed Karen had been using to recover. He couldn't believe it. His princess just looked at him with hate-filled eyes. Walked by like he wasn't even there. How had this happened?
"My baby," he whispered. "My baby hates me…"
"Perhaps," Jareth said, tilting his head to the side. "However, she won't have you killed if you decide to make trouble about the divorce." Actually, Sarah would never know, and Jareth would be doing the job himself. He despised those who hurt what belonged to him. He had claimed Karen over these human months, even if he'd never said anything to her about it. Karen's dreams, her faith in him, all of it came back to one thing: Karen was now his, if only in his mind. That was enough. If anyone was going to hurt her, it would be him, or one he designated to do it for him. Not this…man.
Robert looked up and saw a feral smile and hard mismatched eyes. He shuddered. The Rex family could manage it, he knew. And nobody would ever know what happened.
"Will I get to see Toby?" Robert managed. "And maybe Sarah…eventually?"
"Perhaps and most likely not, in that order. She's a stubborn girl, woman really." Jareth smiled again. "Don't call us. We'll call you."
With that, Jareth left.
Jareth smiled to see a car, per his orders one suitable for his rank, sitting in the drive. He had transported himself and Sarah to the Williams home, but sent out instructions for a suitable conveyance to arrive and show the two of them walking into the house. The magicians had outdone themselves.
Karen blinked at the vehicle in front of them. It was…gorgeous.
"Jareth, is that what I think it is?" she asked, amazed.
"If you think it's the car we shall use to return to my estate in the mountains, you are correct." He seemed unconcerned. He helped Karen walk out to the car, Sarah following behind them.
"I mean the make and model," Karen said. She was feeling better by the second, and leaving Robert had lifted her spirits even more.
"The what?" Jareth asked, confused.
"The maker of the car and the type of model they used--sort of like," Sarah thought for a minute. "Sort of like the origin of a focus stone. A Granite Mountain emerald, or a Pass of Fools diamond."
"Oh." Jareth looked at the car before opening the door for Sarah and Karen. Sarah climbed in the back and Karen sat up front. She stared at the emblem on the dash. "I have no idea. Someone keeps up with these things. I told them to give me a car suitable to my station, and they did." He paused. "Is the roof supposed to be folded back like that?"
Sarah stared at him. She was so used to Jareth knowing everything that this moment was quite endearing. Karen was more used to his curiosity about the unfamiliar.
"It's a convertible," Karen said, still staring at the emblem. "A 1953 Rolls-Royce Silver Dawn Drophead Convertible." Karen kept up with her luxury car models, just for giggles. It was a holdover from her time in New York, both as a popular dancer and convenient arm-candy for the rich patrons. The affairs and the pampering were lovely, but just as empty as the people who had used her for publicity, the same way she had used them. They occasional daydream of the life she had lived had haunted her these past few years. This car, these people with her, was completely different. She smiled blissfully and settled back in the rich red leather seat. "Lovely choice."
"So it is suitable?" Jareth asked. He frowned as he adjusted the mirror. It had been a while since he had driven in this world. Several years. He presumed it was much like…what was that human expression? Falling off a bicycle? Nasty things, bicycles. All that work for so little reward. They made rather enjoyable sculptures, though, and he'd had several kinds placed around his castle. Some of the villagers had fallen in love with the contraptions, so now there were all sorts of the damned things on the roads, along with the more standard horses and carts and pedestrians.
"Very," Karen purred. "How did I ever forget how much I loved a Rolls?" she sighed. Several memories returned to her, not all of them fit for mixed company.
"You've got to tell me all about it, Karen," Sarah said, laughing as Karen absorbed the luxury of the car.
"Oh, I will. Happily." Karen sighed, blissfully. "Oh, Jareth? We need scarves."
"Whatever for?" Jareth asked, finishing the corrections to the driver's side and starting the car. The keys were, of course, in it.
"Our hair," Karen replied. "You don't want us to have hair in our faces the entire time, do you?"
"Well, put the roof back on-" Jareth began.
"NO!" Karen objected. Jareth stared at her. She had certainly gotten some spirit back. "Never! This is a car that's meant to show you off while you drive it." At Jareth's disbelieving look, she shook her head. "Never mind. Just trust me. The top stays down."
"Your top is quite firmly on," Jareth replied, brow furrowing in aggravation. "If you wish to remove it-"
Karen and Sarah both laughed. "She meant the roof, Jareth. It's also called a top." Sarah leaned over the seat and kissed Jareth's ear. She whispered something to him promising a lowered top and some extra time with the car. Jareth pursed his lips and considered her offer. From shy girl just exploring her desires to this little vixen? In a little over six months? God help him if she didn't become his Queen. The language she had used, prompted a slightly different response than she had expected.
"Damned imprecise language," he muttered, backing out of the driveway. He waved one hand at the dash. "Scarves are in that…box. The one front of you."
Karen opened the glovebox and pulled out two lovely, thin cashmere scarves. She handed the red one to Sarah and kept the blue one for herself. The women tied their scarves in place and settled back for the ride.
Despite the situation, the things Sarah had learned about her father and Karen, she was determined to enjoy this time with Karen. Everything else she could deal with later, when she had some time alone with Jareth. Even forcing herself to relax, one errant little thought nagged at her. She couldn't help but wonder when Jareth had learned to drive.
***
The divorce had been run through the courts like a case of green-apple quickstep. It had taken a total of six human days. The name Rex had motivated everyone involved. Robert had not contested Karen's custody, the limited and supervised visitation rights, or the move she made with Toby to an undisclosed location.
The first two days were spent in the Adirondacks, letting Karen adjust to everything she would have to do. Through Jareth's army of lawyers, she made arrangements to have her things packed and moved from the studio and the house. She sold the studio to a woman who had retired that year from Broadway and couldn't let go of the art just yet. As a gift from an old rival and sometimes friend, Karen let her keep the costumes that had been accumulated over the past several years. From the house, Karen supervised while Robert was in court, an arrangement that he had accepted more gracefully than expected. She took only the things she had bought for herself, leaving everything else for Robert. Sarah insisted that everything in her room be packed, and any boxes she had from the attic also be removed. Toby's things were split, the major furnishings staying and the most loved toys and clothes going with her.
The third day, they went in the gorgeous car to go pick up Toby. Toby was staying with Robert's parents, the news of the separation coming as no surprise to the gentle older couple. Sarah had spent a long time talking with her grandparents, laughing and enjoying their company. That evening a rainstorm came up, the gentle patter of the rain and the occasional roll of thunder delighting Jareth to no end. Laughing, he took Sarah's hand and led her into the rain to dance. Sarah couldn't help but enjoy it. She laughed and danced with him until everyone on the porch had joined them, her grandmother having put on some old music and setting a speaker in the window. Karen danced with Toby, and even her grandparents promenaded in the warm summer rain. Sarah didn't ask why Jareth had wanted to go running in the rain. She simply enjoyed the moments of joy he broadcasted, letting him sweep her away. When she was out of breath, she took Toby from Karen and danced with him, which mostly involved swaying in one place and bouncing a bit.
Jareth held one hand out to Karen and bowed. She curtsied, and they swept into a flowing waltz-like step to the old song "Rock and Roll Waltz". The story told in the song was endearing, but the dance was beautiful. Sarah smiled and talked with Toby about how beautifully his mother danced with Jareth, knowing it would take her years to ever match that kind of grace. Her grandparents had long since retired to the porch and gone to change into dry clothes, bringing out towels for the others. Sarah took Toby up to dry off and change, feeling his head droop to her shoulder. The excitement of their arrival and the distress of hearing about leaving Robert, followed by playing and then dancing in the rain had worn him out. He was barely four.
Jareth and Karen danced a while longer, Karen enjoying the freedom and grace of her movements, Jareth reluctant to come out of the rain.
"You dance beautifully," Karen said as the music changed to a more Spanish beat. A slow rhumba competed with the thunder.
"Years of practice," Jareth replied, smiling and then lifting his face to the rain.
"You never did say--how old are you?" Karen asked.
"In human terms, I'm a little over two thousand years." At Karen's shocked blink, he corrected her step and added, "But my people don't age the same way. It's…complicated."
"Is everyone in your world so long-lived?"
"No. Many are not. Some live as long as ordinary humans, some more, some less. It depends on the life chosen and the magic within." Jareth didn't want to go into the whole thing. He hoped that would keep her happy.
"And Sarah?" she asked, eyes wide with concern.
"Will live as long as she wills it," Jareth replied softly. "In the end, that is how the magic works."
"And you're the king," she finished. "You'll live longer than anyone."
"Mm. Perhaps. My age is more complex than most, given the ties I have to the land--again complicated." He shushed her. "Just dance."
They did just that.
The newly expanded group left the next day, Jareth asking if Karen needed to visit anyone before they returned for the court hearings. She shook her head, explaining that her parents had died years before, as had her grandparents, and her brothers weren't speaking to her for various reasons, most of which centered around her choice of career. She would write them letters, leaving a P.O. box for them to contact her. Jareth had nodded. Sarah, keeping Toby distracted in the back of the vehicle, hadn't been paying attention. They met "Jareth Rex, Sr.", real name long since forgotten, and toured the home office while Jareth and his employee went over the next several years worth of plans. As it was, pictures of Jareth as Rex's son were added to the office, the most recent ones including Sarah in a multitude of exotic locales. The old man nodded and chuckled, knowing Jareth would send two excellent doubles to take the required positions in the company and in the press.
The name Rex had much power in the human world, and every so often, Jareth made it a point to use it. The court date was quickly over, and Karen moved with Toby to the Adirondack house. They were there for only a few minutes before Jareth swept them into his world. Sarah leaned against him, her head spinning again.
"Relax, love. It gets easier with practice." His voice was warm and his arms around her strong. She relaxed.
By the time the final divorce was filed with the clerk of court, Karen was firmly ensconced in Jareth's castle with Toby and Sarah was running the labyrinth. Strangely, it was as though time hadn't moved while they were gone.
***
In Jareth's castle at the heart of the labyrinth, Karen was amazed at the beauty and strength of his home. He had been called away on business almost immediately upon his return. From his expression as he'd apologized for having to leave her to his servants and subjects, she concluded it was of great importance. Shooing him on his way, much to his amusement, she took Toby on a tour of the place, following a very proper elf and meeting several different people--creatures, really, but Jareth had simply referred to them as his people.
Karen met the poet laureate, an orc from the southern Inner Lands, also called the Heartlands; the secretary, a normal looking man of the race of kings who happened to be a powerful magician in his own right; and the captain of the guard, a tall, strong, rather scary goblin. The goblin had leered at her, then looked down at Toby with a huge, toothy grin.
"Well, if it isn't a little man, just waiting to learn how to be a proper goblin!" he said, kneeling and chucking Toby under the chin. "You'll learn well, here."
Toby had giggled and Karen made a mental note to ask what a "proper goblin" was, and why this one was so very different from the goblins Sarah had described. It occurred to her that everything her was nothing like what Sarah had told her in their recent conversations.
It was something to think about.
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