I don't own Jareth, Sarah, or the Labyrinth, Jim
Henson Productions has the claim on those. I'm just borrowing them. Alara,
however, is my own character. If you
read this, please let me know what you think, either by review or by
email. Thank you! I hope you enjoy it!
No More Masks
Jareth
Alara lay curled in a deep hollow of a lightning-blasted tree, her face buried in the crook of her arm to mask the sound of her harsh breathing. She heard the heavy steps of the horses as they drew close and pulled her black cloak over her blazing white hair.
"She came this way, but her trail ends over here." No, not so soon! They're going to find me! She squeezed her eyes even tighter as heavy footsteps stopped at the narrow entrance. She heard the jingling of chain-mail and guessed that an armsman had knelt down to peer inside. She lay still, holding her breath and willing her heart to slow its wild beat. After an agonizingly long moment, she heard the man curse and noisily lurch to his feet.
"Ain't nuthin' in 'ere 'cept spiders 'n mice, m'lord."
"Blast your eyes, man! Find her! She can't have gone far!" Alara cringed. If the Lord Baskin had seen fit to lead the hunt, then it was only a matter of time until she was found. "And send those flea-ridden hounds back to the kennels. They're useless for anything but hares. Go on, before I feed you to them!" Alara allowed herself a small grin. The hounds were useless against her; she had used a small amount of her power to confuse their minds. Instead of hunting her, they had led the hunting party to nearly every rabbit warren and shrews' nest in the forest. Unfortunately for her, the Lord had caught onto the trick and sent for the tracker. She lay motionless, listening as the hunting party gradually moved further away.
Alara stayed in her shelter until nightfall before she finally dared to emerge. She tested the air cautiously, wary of an ambush. She had been held prisoner at Lord Baskin's keep for too long. She reveled in the night breeze's comforting touch. No more stale air, no more chains, no more being forced to heal a dying man and watch others suffer. The cruelty was over, and she was free. Alara looked up through the canopy and saw a sprinkling of stars. It was too dark to move in safety, she could wait until dawn. She crawled back into the den and lay down. Tomorrow she would leave this place of pain. For tonight, at least, she would sleep in peace.
Alara woke slowly, knowing she was safe and had no need to
defend herself. She didn't immediately
feel the soft mattress beneath her, or the warmth of the coverlet around
her. She wanted to lay here forever, to
never wake again. Ah, a back
corner of her mind spoke, you must wake. Nothing lasts forever, not even pleasant dreams. Shut up, you! Let me sleep a while longer. You must wake, since when do trees grow feather mattress? Shut up! The tree can do whatever it wants! It's my dream, not yours! No,
it's not a dream…
"Wake up, Alara." Alara jumped at the sound of the voice, "No!" she cried. "Not so soon!" She scrambled back from the wonderful soft bed, nearly falling out. A man sat sprawled in an overstuffed chair, one placating hand raised. "Be at ease, you are safe here." He was oddly dressed, with a dark leather jerkin over a loose blouse and light gray leggings tucked into knee-high boots. An odd pendant hung from a gold chain. She looked into his bi-colored eyes, searching for the truth of his words.
"How is it that you know my name," she asked guardedly. He smiled and shook his head as stood. "How is it that you can look at me and not recognize your own kin?" he answered. Kin? She had no kin! And then she saw what she had missed in her alarmed state. The power, the magic that whirled around and through him. He was magic-born, like she was! "Yes, Alara, not so different from you, although my destiny is on another path." She could only stare at first. Another magic-born! She had thought that she was the only one! She struggled from the shock of it all.
"Who are you," she could only ask.
"I am Jareth, the Goblin King. And this," he waved his arm to encompass the room, "is my castle at the center of the Labyrinth." Alara nodded, confused. Jareth put his arms behind his back and paced to the single window. Alara felt a slight tremble in the air as his thoughts became troubled. "I saved you from your prison because I knew it would mean your death, eventually." He noticed her start of surprise. "Yes, I know you were forced into existence, and are not quite immortal yet. As your kin, of a sort, I could not leave you there." The owl, she thought. "I brought you here, however, for another purpose." He leaned against the window with a false indolence. He was tense, as if he expected a blow.
Alara took a step towards Jareth. She could now sense a deep sorrow in him, and fought the instinct to rush over and ease the pain. "I think I know why you have brought me here. Your world is falling apart, isn't it? I can feel it unraveling, even now." She felt a sadness well up within her. As a mage-born creature, he was immortal. But for some reason he was slowly weakening, losing his strength and power. She didn't know what would become of him if he lost himself. "You want me to heal you, somehow. Oh, Jareth," she whispered, sympathy echoing in her voice, "it doesn't work that way." His face was impassive, as expressionless as a mask. He pushed himself away from the window and paced back to the oversized chair. He carelessly sat, one leg over the arm. He pulled four perfect crystalline spheres from the air and began to twirl them in his gloved fingers. Alara watched, mesmerized. "You are partly correct. I know you can't heal me, or my land. That is not why you are here." He gracefully pulled a sphere from the rest and lifted it into the air. Alara sank to the floor as is drifted towards her. An image of a young woman began to form within its depths. Long dark hair covered her face but could not mask the crushing pain radiating from her. "Her name is Sarah. I offered her the world, once…"
Alara listened quietly as he told her of how his goblins had kidnapped her brother, and of how he used his power to shape his domain in an attempt to impress her. She thought she understood his pain, now. He had watched this dream-filled girl when she was young, eventually falling in love with her, and, believing that she would one day love him in return, he had given her the key, the "certain powers" to his realm. What went wrong? From what Jareth had told her, this Sarah didn't fit in with her own world. Why wasn't she here, with him, helping him keep his mysterious land whole and healthy? She watched as Jareth offered her a final dream. The crystal popped before she heard Sarah's reply. Alara watched with hooded eyes as Jareth stood angrily and began to pace the floor. "What happened, Jareth," she asked softly, already knowing the answer.
"She refused, that's what happened!" He growled, glaring at her. Alara tried to hide her smile. "Well, you did kidnap her brother."
He whirled to face her, muscles tight. "She asked me to!"
"You threw a snake at her face! That doesn't say 'I love you' in any language."
"She defied me!"
"You threw her into a hole."
"She was cocky!"
"She nearly had her head torn off," she said incredulously.
Jareth shrugged, taking a sudden interest in his glove. "She chose the wrong door. And anyway, I had the dwarf save her."
Alara rose to her bare feet and put her hands on her hips. "You threw her into a smelly bog."
"She kissed the dwarf. I was angry. Besides, it wasn't in the bog, it was the shore by the bog."
Alara sighed. "She was nearly run down by a slashing machine."
Jareth sniffed haughtily. "She deserved it." He glanced at Alara's astounded look. "What?" he shouted defensively, "She insulted my Labyrinth!"
Alara shook her head and said softly, "You made her forget."
He looked away and answered just as softly, "She wanted to forget."
Alara walked over to him, unable to resist the pain and sadness in his voice. She placed a hand lightly on his shoulder. He didn't shrink from her delicate touch. "She refused you because she was young and confused. From what you told me all her life she dreamed and imagined. Wishing it could all be real but knowing it wasn't. You pulled the floor from underneath her and now she's struggling to stand. She was already afraid of the world around her, Jareth, and you frightened her even more. No more masks. Tell me, you loved her, didn't you? You hoped that she would love you back, or at least learn to love you." She didn't need an answer. "You expected her to drop the world she knew in favor of the unknown. She was a lost, lonely child, I don't think she knew what you were truly offering her." Gently, she framed his face in her small hands. "Jareth, you fool, next time try flowers."