Jareth’s Story

Sarah did a quick calculation.  Based on her 2 year sleep to the passing of 100 Underground years that would make it 80,000 Underground years ago.  Sarah felt dizzy just trying to comprehend it.

“I was born in what is now England during that dark time between paganism and the dawning of Christianity.  The Fae were still prevalent, not driven Underground as yet by the spreading of Christianity’s light.  Rumors had reached us of a God made man but we didn’t believe it.  Especially when we learnt this God had been murdered by common men!  What God would allow that?” Jareth sneered.

“At that time I belonged to a wealthy, land-owning family.  I was the heir and I was very bored.  With no real work to occupy me and a brain too quick to be distracted or taxed by my normal studies, I took to spending time with our local mage.  He was a hermit on my father’s land and we fed him.  In exchange he protected us from the Fae’s spite.”

Sarah simply stared at him uncomprehendingly.  To have lived at such a time in human history when the Fae still roamed!  She hardly believed in them even now – sitting in a room in the Goblin King’s castle.

“He taught me his magical arts in exchange for various favors I could provide him with.  Books mainly – it took wealth to obtain them.  In the end, he sent me to others more powerful than himself – and more dangerous.

“In the beginning it was white magic primarily.  Things like how to protect crops from failing, or how to heal wounds.  As my hunger for knowledge and power grew, I sought out different teachers.

“On a long road of learning from teacher to teacher I finally met and served a powerful black magician.  He was depraved but I learnt a great deal from him.  He was greedy for gold and that I could provide – my wealth protected me from him.

“But the age of magic was drawing to a close and I tempted the new God too much by my increasing power and selfishness.

“By this time my parents had died and I inherited the estate.  The people on my father’s land fled from the new, dark magic I brought there.

“One day a powerful, old seer trespassed on my land.  He did so deliberately.  He came to curse me before I could unleash any further harm on the world.  I under-estimated this new God that the seer professed.  He was stronger than the old gods.”

Jareth paused and frowned, struggling to remember something.

“His name was Patrick, I believe,” he shook his head, confused.

“Saint Patrick,” Sarah said, in recognition.  “He brought Christ to Britian.”

“Saint!”  Jareth spat in fury.  “He was no saint to be so vengeful!  When I would not submit to his God he cursed me to rule here!”

“What was the curse?” Sarah asked.

“To rule with my magic over a stupid goblin race, without human company,” Jareth sighed angrily, getting up to pace again.

“Is that so bad?” Sarah asked.

“Yes!” he hissed, spinning round to face her.  “Do you know what it’s like to never speak to another human except to invoke fear and loathing?  To rule over stupid goblins that immediately forget anything they’re taught?  To wait millennia for things to change while growing desperate with boredom?” he demanded.

“Things to change?” Sarah repeated questioningly.  “Can things change for you?”

“Yes,” Jareth said between clenched teeth.  “But it is out of my hands to do the changing.”  He walked over to the window and stared out, his back to Sarah.

“Who can?” Sarah asked, intrigued.

“You can,” Jareth said flatly.  “As the first and only person to conquer my Labyrinth, only you can change my plight.”

Sarah stared wide-eyed at his back.  His fate was in her hands.  And didn’t he hate it!  “How?” she barely whispered.  Jareth heard.

He stalked back to her bed with the feline grace of a cat and sat close to her.  Staring straight into her clear, green eyes with his face two inches from hers he said,

“You have to agree to stay here with me for good,” Jareth said quietly.

Sarah’s eyes widened.  She was having a hard enough time sitting that close to Jareth on a bed and remembering to breathe without that revelation!  “And if I don’t agree?” she asked softly.  Jareth’s face tightened into a mask.

“Then I’ll spend forever in this hell, exactly as things are.  It would be easier to die, Sarah.  But I can’t!”  Jareth replied, his voice laced with tension.

“How long do I have to make my decision?” Sarah asked.

Jareth’s eyes flew to her’s again.  He was surprised she was even going to consider it.  “One year at the most,” Jareth replied.  “That’s about one week of earth time.”

“After that, they turn off my life support at home?” Sarah questioned.  Jareth merely nodded.

“Fine, I’ll stay one year and then decide,” Sarah said confidently, looking away from his un-nerving, glittering gaze.

“By the way,” she added, “if I do stay for good, under what conditions do I stay?  I won’t have to be stuck in an oubliette, will I?”

He frowned at the idea.  What on earth did she think he was?  “No Sarah.  You’ll have free run of the place.  I’d have no need to lock you up,” Jareth replied, with an edge of impatience in his voice.

“Well, I guess you wouldn’t tell me if I was going to end up in a dungeon anyway,” she said quite cheerfully.  “But I believe you.”  But what the hell would I do here, she wondered?  No school, no career, no family.  She’d have Hoggle, Ludo and Sir Didymus for company but still… maybe she’d get bored of endlessly exploring the Labyrinth.  And attractive as Jareth was, he did make her feel uneasy.  She didn’t trust him at all.  She wasn’t sure how she’d handle having him pop up all the time unexpectedly.  But maybe he’d leave her completely alone – who knew?

Jareth watched her thoughts chasing themself across her face.  She was having doubts but he guessed she’d be having them on and off for the next year.  While her mind was wondering, he blew gently in her direction.  Her lids grew heavy and she slept.