Title: Hurry to Me
Fandom: Labyrinth
Pairing: Sarah/Jareth
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: The Labyrinth belongs to Jim Henson and Brian Froud.
Summary: He's always there at the edge of her conscious, watching her through the window.
A/N: Written last year for subtilior's cheer up present. Though it lacks magnificence or glitter, I do hope you'll enjoy this tiny piece too.
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He's not there.
No. He really isn't there.
I'm just being paranoid.
Sarah sat at her desk, slowly folding clothes to put away. Her hair was pulled up, a coil of black, no nonsense-like and her long sleeves were bunched up and out of the way. Finishing the Labyrinth had made Sarah examine herself. The vain, selfish girl who found the world 'unfair' was changed. Magic was possible, friendship was an amazing thing. Romance wasn't always as lovely as the books said.
Today was another ordinary day, she swore firmly. If nothing got in her way, then this afternoon, she'd get started on the thick chocolate birthday cake for Toby. It was for tomorrow and right now, she was busy. She didn't have time to play this stale-mate game. But hairs on her neck rose – they always did – because he was there.
I can't believe it! And I thought for sure today he'd leave me alone.
She refused to turn around and acknowledge him. The damn owl could just stare, for all she cared. The window was securely shut, she'd checked just as she'd woken up. Though the Goblin King never made any move to open the window, Sarah always felt a bit better that there was a solid barrier of wood and glass between them.
Not that it helped much. They'd been doing this exchange for a year now and the outside paint on her window was scratched, laid bare from all the times he'd landed, peering in. Sometimes she woke up to his gaze. Flustered and barely awake, she'd squeak and pull her curtains over. It was never just an owl. There was something in the eyes. No owl had such blue. Such cruel eyes.
Sarah stared down into her lap. Even now, it was unnerving to look outside. She could feel his piercing gaze, daring her to look back. Jareth wouldn't leave until she retired for the night. Did the Goblin King really have nothing else but to follow her movements? Sarah gritted her teeth, her hands involuntarily wringing a sock. He didn't affect her!
A scuffle, just the tiniest noise, made her look at the worn red cover in the bookshelf. She paused in her task of folding clothes. Leaving the laundry, she hesitantly reached out to grasp it. It'd been a while since she'd browsed through the story. Her finger hovered over the spine and Sarah dared herself to touch her volume. She was a bit afraid because the red tome was a link to a wild world so achingly familiar, but in one swift movement, she pulled it down. She ran her hand over the tooled imprint of the word Labyrinth, should she open it to the last pages and read those words again?
They were just words. They shouldn't have made her heart thump so hard.
"But what no one knew was that the Goblin King fell in love with her and gave her certain powers..."
It felt good to murmur those words again. Her breath hitched when she heard scratching on the glass. She froze. Had he heard? It took a lot of courage for Sarah to turn around in her seat.
He was gone.
Strangely disappointed, Sarah placed the Labyrinth book down on her chair. Cautiously, she edged her way across to the window. There was no owl. No Goblin King materialized to upturn her world. Instead, there on the windowsill was a single feather. Expecting him to fly at her, Sarah pushed up the window just enough for her fingers to slip under and grasp the silky pinion.
Retrieving it, she held it in her palm. Sarah lightly stroked the edge, a little amazed at the way the light made it shimmer.
"So I cut deeper than I knew. I'm sorry."