Disclaimer: I do not own Labyrinth.
The Story in Which Sarah Throws Herself Out of a Window
A Labyrinth Fanfiction
Danika Lareyna
It was a nice apartment, very modern. Everything was done in white, silver and muted blues, giving the room a calm and sleek feel. The building rose high above the noisy streets, and that particular apartment was near the top. The tall windows provided a fantastic view of the shimmering field of stars that was the city at night. It was quiet and the moonlight poured in, reflecting off the silver accents and making the room glow with a serene light.
The peace was shattered when the door slammed open, rebounding violently off the white wall and causing the windowpanes to rattle in protest.
"That's it!" Sarah screeched, chucking her briefcase across the room and kicking off one high-heel with such vehemence that it flew into the kitchen to hit the electric stove. She furiously tore off her expensive jacket, the silk lining catching on the pretty watch that adorned her wrist and tearing with a silent cry. Heedless, Sarah tossed it in a pile with her discarded briefcase. The other high-heel quickly followed.
She strode to the center of the once tranquil apartment, fists clenched and face rosy with ire. She caught her reflection in one of the large windows and paused a moment. She was quite beautiful, in her anger, and she was not ashamed to admit it. She took great pains to appear her best. You never knew who was watching. Now, standing in her stocking-feet, wearing only a silky camisole and an expensive skirt- the match to her now ruined jacket- with her hair coming out of its elaborate braid, she looked the embodiment of feminine rage.
Taking a moment to breathe deeply, Sarah counted to ten. Then, in a calm, collected voice, she said, "I wish the Goblin King would take me away, right now." Silently, she waited.
Nothing happened.
With a renewed screech of fury, Sarah threw herself out of one of the tall windows.
xXx
"That was very stupid," he said, his rich voice torn between exasperation and amusement.
"It got your attention," she replied, unconcerned.
"And if I had let you fall?" he asked, the exasperation winning out.
"You would not have," she said, her tone smug.
He opened his mouth but, for the first time in his recollection, could find nothing adequate to say. He closed it again. She did not seem to mind, taking the opportunity to snuggle closer to him, her cheek pressed against his warm, broad chest. A happy sigh escaped her lips and he could feel it whisper against his skin. Unconsciously, his grip on her tightened.
xXx
"You have wings," Sarah said, at length.
"I know," Jareth replied, still somewhat miffed at her.
"You did not have them before," she said, peeking over his shoulder with wonder shining in her gray-green eyes. They were white, where they faced her, but she could see, as they swept powerfully through the air, that on the other side they were pale gold with flecks of brown. Much like the wings he wore in owl-form. They suited him.
"I did not want to," he replied, simply.
Great, jagged pieces of glass angled out of the ruined window-frame but somehow, as the Goblin King swooped gracefully through, none of them touched him or the woman in his arms. Gently, he set her down on the pale blue carpet she had so recently left. Reluctantly, she released her grip on his shirt.
"You will not do that again," he told her as he folded his wings against his body, where they faded from existence. It was not a request.
"I will if you leave," she replied, her unwaveringly stubborn tone matching his completely.
Jareth reached forward and plucked a nasty shard of glass from where it had been embedded in the skin of her upper-arm. She seemed to have forgotten that it was supposed to hurt. "I thought we had an agreement," he said, holding the blood-soaked glass before his eyes and examining it with apparent curiosity.
She shrugged, only now becoming aware that there were quite a number of jagged pieces of glass impaled upon her body. It seemed as if they should be drawing more blood, or at least cutting off function in vital organs. "I upheld my end of the bargain," Sarah said. "Am I dead?"
He snorted and she found the sound ridiculous and adorable. "Of course you are not," he said. "You know very well that I would not allow that. And I hardly think that six years is enough to consider the bargain kept." He touched a spot on her forehead and the shards of glass seemed to take it upon themselves to wiggle out of her skin on their own, falling in a tinkling pile at her feet. It tickled, a little.
"You said that I had to live the life I was meant to on Earth. I did." Sarah blushed, "I thought you would be forced to catch me. I didn't think you would have to protect me from the glass, too. Sorry."
Extending a booted foot to push at the pile of shards that were streaked with not nearly enough blood, he replied, "I was forced to catch you, but I did not do this." He frowned and returned his gaze to her face, "And killing yourself was not the way your life on Earth was supposed to end."
Feeling suddenly tired, Sarah took Jareth's hand and pulled him after her to sit on the couch together. He did not resist and, when she leaned her head against his shoulder, he put his arm around her and pulled her closer. "I missed you," she said.
He sighed heavily, running one hand over the now unbroken skin of her upper-arm. "I missed you, too," he replied. For a long moment, they were silent, simply enjoying each other's presence. She breathed deeply, remembering his scent and he reveled in the softness of her skin beneath his gloved fingers.
"Do you remember the first time I called you?" she asked, softly.
A hint of the smirk of old twisted Jareth's lips. "You mean when you wished away your little brother?"
She scoffed and smacked his chest lightly with the back of her hand. "That was a dumb mistake. And anyway, that time I called the goblins. Do you remember the first time I called you?"
The smirk faded to a wistful smile. "It was that same night," he replied. "You wanted to know if it had all been a part of the game, my telling you that I loved you." The pressure of his hand on her arm became slightly firmer, "As if I would lie about such a thing."
She smiled, "You were much more convincing when you weren't trying to kidnap Toby."
It was his turn to scoff. "You know very well that I would not have kept him."
"I did not then," she replied. "I was very young."
His voice became distant. "I loved you, anyway."
She grinned, "Pervert." Returning to the present, he scowled at her. She raised her hands disarmingly before returning her head to his chest. "I was frightened. Your love was... overwhelming."
Now he grinned, "As I recall, you did not fight it long."
"Yes," she said, with a pout, "And just when I thought everything was going to be perfect, you went and abandoned me."
He shook his head, long strands of blond hair brushing her cheek with the motion. "I did nothing of the sort. I simply realized that it would be cruel- crueler than even I cared to be- to take you from this life before it was your time to leave and, as you know, I could not leave my kingdom for more than thirteen hours." Deep regret tinged his voice and gave her hope.
With mock chastisement in her tone, she exclaimed, "And how many times have I called you since then?"
Without hesitation, he replied, "Two thousand, seven hundred and thirty-four. Well, this last time will be thirty-five."
She blinked. "You counted?"
"Every one."
Changing the subject for the moment, Sarah poked at the holes in her shirt, which should have mirrored holes in her skin, but did not. "You did not do this?" she asked, glancing up at him.
He arched one brow, looking vaguely smug. "No."
"Who did?"
"You."
Returning her gaze to her unmarked skin, Sarah replied with a soft, "Oh."
Silence fell between them again. This time, though, it was not comfortable, but tense. Jareth's eyes went to the items tossed haphazardly by the door and then traveled slowly to the ruined window, pausing on the blood-stained carpet where they had landed. The small pile of red-streaked glass seemed to painfully dig at Sarah's conscious in a way it never had her body.
"I hate it here," she said in a small voice.
"Why?" he asked.
"I don't fit in. I never have, I never will. You've watched me, I felt it. You must understand."
With a heavy sigh, Jareth pulled Sarah into his lap. He stared into her eyes for a moment before placing a soft kiss to the center of her forehead. "I have watched you," he admitted. "I could not help myself. And I do understand how out of place you have felt... But you must admit that you did not try very hard to fit in, did you?"
She frowned, "Are you saying that you would want me to change? To be like... them?" Her nose crinkled in disgust at the thought.
Jareth's eyes sparkled as he leaned his forehead against hers, a twisted smile on his face. "No," he replied, "I could not think of a worse fate."
Sarah smiled and, feeling daring, leaned in to meet his lips. He responded without vacillation. It was their first kiss in over six years. The last had been stained with the tears of their parting. Back then, Sarah thought she would never know a more bitter taste. Now, she wondered if anything could be sweeter.
His arms went firmly around her waist, and she twisted about to kneel over him so that her knees were on either side of his thighs and he had to tilt his head back to maintain the contact between their hungry mouths. Her hands tangled in his wild hair as his swept up and down the length of her back, brushing her bare neck and giving her goose bumps. Just when she felt she could not possibly melt into him any further, Sarah pulled back, just slightly, and whispered, "You will take me back with you, then?"
Slowly, his hands drifted down from her back to rest on her hips as he gazed up at her. "No," he replied. "I will not take you back until you are ready."
She settled back, sitting on his knees with her arms crossed beneath her breasts. "I can't believe you would abandon me again!" He only stared at her sadly. Leaping to her feet, Sarah stormed away from him. As she passed the pile of glass-shards on the floor, she hesitated. Peeking over her shoulder at him, she pointed at the glass and said, "I did that?"
Still gazing at her, he nodded slowly.
She looked down at the blood-stained pile for a long moment before giving one quick, decisive nod of her head. Resolutely, she headed for the window. "What are you doing?" Jareth asked.
"I'm going to jump out of the window again," she replied, cheerfully.
He stood. "I will not catch you this time," he warned.
She glanced back at him one last time and grinned. "I know."
xXx
That night, two forms were seen climbing towards the moon on magnificent, spreading wings, one pair golden, the other pair rich brown.
End