It begins as a few bad dreams, such a rare occurrence that by the time Sarah wakes she has forgotten them. Work, however, becomes more stressful as the holiday season approaches, and Sarah can tell the lack of sleep is starting to catch up with her. Even though she has dutifully tried to get in somewhere around eight hours, the workload piles up, and on the nights when she has a scant few hours left to try and sleep, that is when she is restless, her mind plaguing her dreams with terrible nightmares. She awakes feeling unsettled, miserable, and slightly unnerved.
It is not as though there is a pattern to it. She has no recollection of what she's dreamed of; only the residual emotions, and the anxiety. Which is silly, really. But Sarah knows the true power of dreams, and does not take it lightly. However, she has seen no evidence of influence from goblin magick; glitter or crystals or peaches, and figures it is only the pressures of work that have made her dreams so haunting.
Then she wakes up in a cold sweat, a scream still on her lips.
And she remembers the fear.
It was a dream built on her darkest fear; and now that she has experienced it, there is no way she will be able to calm her shaking body to go back to sleep.
She remembers searching, searching for her brother, only to lose him again, lost in the shadows and the unknown. Toby was gone. It was her fault. And somehow, everywhere she looked, he wasn't there. There darkness was all-consuming, and she was running so quickly it was hard to breathe. She knew someone had taken him, and it was her fault.
But it wasn't Jareth, and she wasn't in the Underground. In all of her trials in the Labyrinth, she had never been truly been frightened of the Goblin King, afraid for her life. Darkness encroaches, as it never had in the Labyrinth, and she is running from the shadows as well as searching for Toby.
And now she is sitting upright in her bed, her head in her hands, knees pressed to her chest as she tries not to contemplate too hard on the headache of a dream that had plagued her.
Toby was safe. Toby was fine. She may have run the Labyrinth, but that was nine years ago, and nothing else could happen to them after that.
Sarah climbs out of her bed, exhausted, and stumbles her way to the bathroom, smacking the wall and feeling around for the light switch until it turns on, the glareof the lights like spotlights on her retinas. She shields her eyes quickly, cursing, and sets about drawing a bath.
Might as well kill two birds with one stone, she figures, as she needs to shower, and the bath will give her a little more time to rest, as it was obvious she wasn't going to be falling back asleep, but she still wasn't due at work for another four hours.
Once the water has risen to the top of the bath, Sarah flicks the lights back off, slipping into the bath extremely slowly, using her arms to slowly lower herself into the scalding water, cursing herself for making it so damn hot. But god, did it feel good. The candle she lit in the corner of the bathtub flickers in the reflection of the water, and the dull flame is soothing. Laying her head back against the edge of the tub, Sarah lets her mind wander, while trying to stay conscious enough to not fall asleep and drown in her own tub.
An hour later, she wakes with a jolt, flailing around in the bathtub wildly before she remembers where she is, and why she isn't in her bed. Cursing her stupidity, Sarah shivers at the cold of the water, which has chilled to an uncomfortable temperature, enough that her skin has prickled with goosebumps. The candle she lit an hour ago has burned down to the bottom of the wick, the dim light it gave off providing more shadows than light.
Irritated with herself, Sarah stands up quickly, the cold air making her inhale sharply through her teeth.
And then the candle flickers out.
It could have been nothing, really. She had let it burn for an hour, and it was understandable that the wick was burned all the way down. Or perhaps the motion of her standing had created a breeze to blow out the candle.
But Sarah had long since stopped believing in coincidences, especially when they concerned her. The shadows grew and seemed to darken, and Sarah quickly grabbed a towel and wrapped it protectively around her, shoving her feet into her slippers and shuffling into her bedroom quickly. Making sure to turn the lights on, Sarah changes quickly, putting on a pair of sweatpants and a loose tshirt, comfy enough that she could stay in them for a few hours before changing for work.
She hears, out of the corner of her ear, a breath that is not hers, and her blood runs cold.
She prayed it was goblins.
Sarah is tired, sleepless at work, and struggles through the week, having only enough energy to make it home and crash into her bed unceremoniously, only to be woken up in the middle of the night in a panic, her chest heaving as she clutched her blanket close to her chest, trying not to feel like she was a child.
She wouldn't be so afraid, if she wasn't intimately aware that nightmares could be more than simple figments of a twisted imagination.
On Thursday night, though, after fighting the need for sleep that pressed so heavily on her that the dark circles underneath her eyes havedarkened to frightening levels, her leaden steps lead her ever so reluctantly to her bed, where she falls asleep almost instantly.
She is in a large hall, and from the stalactites hanging from the ceiling she can tell she is in a cavern of some sort, underground.
Underground. Maybe it is the Goblin Kingdom, a part of which shehas not yet explored?
There are a great number of empty..cages hanging from the ceiling, tapered in a way that make them look like chandeliers if you didn't see the small doors and locks. Perhaps bird cages then. Sarah wanders, taking in the large cliffs and the carved bridges, which look as though they had been carved into the Earth itself, forgotten in time. it is deserted, though, and Sarah wonders why she is even there, if no one is there to accompany her. She travels further into the cave, exploring a tunnel at the end of the grotto which, while lengthy, has no unique features to it. She reaches a dead end, and turns to go back to the open expanse of the cave. However, when she looks out again at the cavern, it is not the same. The light that filtered in before, illuminating the room in a subtle light, is gone. It is pitch black, and as she stands in place, afraid to venture out lest she hurt herself, the shadows twist and pulse; creating terrible shapes that she is not sure are truly there, a movement on the edge of her peripheral vision, and Sarah hopes this is not some cruel joke Jareth is playing on her. But he has never been quite so evil, so dark. And there is no glitter.
Not comforted in the least, Sarah takes a step forward, the shadows converging around her and yet never reaching out to touch her. Then they take shape, forming the most massive black steeds she has ever seen, their eyes glowing red and their bodies corporeal from the wispy shadows. She shudders in fear, instinctively knowing that these creatures were not to be toyed with. She doubted she could befriend them, as she had done with Hoggle and Ludo so many years ago.
The steeds breathe heavily, steam coming from their nostrils as they circle her, looking at her as if she is their next meal, and Sarah shivers, doubting that she can fight her way free from them. Their eyes seem to brighten as she shrinks away from them, and the first one rears up, a loud whinny escaping its mouth before it crashes down right in front of her, barely missing her feet, and Sarah stumbles back, falling onto her ass, looking up in fear at the crazed steed, closing her eyes right as it rears up again.
And then it is gone, in its place a dark figure that is most surely made of shadows the same as the nightmarish steeds, and Sarah cannot help but feel fear deep in the pit of her that wrenches at her gut, bile rising in her throat as she crawls backwards quickly, trying to escape this dark figure, until her back hits the side of the cavern, rock and gravel like iron bars. She is trapped, and when her gaze finds the figure again, she gasps, as it is right in front of her, moving ever towards her in a slow pursuit.
And then it bends at the waist, sweeping it's arm out to the expanse of the cave, it's face revealed from the shadows as he stands up. "And how are you enjoying my nightmares, Sarah?" The figure asks, his deep voice echoing through the cavern, and the words are so reminiscent of her trip to the Labyrinth that Sarah has to stifle a shiver. The dark figure looms over her, his pointed teeth and dark hair only working to enhance the intimidating presence he creates. Leaning down, he grasps her chin, pulling her to her feet and grinning, his hawkish nose and lack of eyebrows coming into clear view as more of the creature's features became visible. He was a nightmare himself, and she tried not to shrink back at his touch.
"Who are you?" She finally asked, her voice slightly wavering, much to her chagrin. She had no idea there were other Kings, princes and guardians of realms similar to the Goblin Kingdom.
The figure grinned, his shadows seeming to grow around him as his feral smile grew. "Why, I am the King of Nightmares, my dear. But you can call me Pitch...Pitch Black." Stepping ever closer, she was backed against the wall. "And what are you called?"
But Sarah knew the danger in freely sharing her name, and twisted from his grip, taking off into the darkness of the cave. Sprinting as fast as she could, she ran blindly into the darkness, until tripping over an unseen mass of stalagmites. Cursing, she lay sprawled out on the ground, wincing as she pushed herself up onto her knees, her hands scraped and her knees bleeding.
She turns to stand up and he is there, Pitch Black, hovering above her, silent as a ghost. She bites down on her lip, trying not to scream as his arm drifts out, his grey fingers moving to stroke her cheek.
"My dear girl, you have such an incredibly complex imagination...it will be my utmost pleasure to corrupt you."
And then Sarah wakes up in a cold sweat, remembering the figure but not the dream, her hands clammy and trembling.
It is a miserable day at work again, with everyone rushing around to finalize the sets for the play, do the last run through, fit the costumes one final time. Sarah is distracted the whole time, and even two generous cups of coffee cannot combat the consequences of a night without sleep. She tries to slog through the day, but by the time she makes it back to her apartment she is exhausted, mentally and physically. She barely has the energy to heat up some leftovers for dinner before crashing onto the couch, dozing off as soon as her head hits the pillow.
When Sarah hears the knock at her door, she goes to answer it, remembering lethargically that Toby was getting dropped off today, as Karen needed someone to watch him while she did some Christmas shopping. Opening the door, a solid mass of ten year old hits her, wrapping her into a hug that is infectious in its enthusiasm. Karen waves, taking her leave quickly to get started on her errands. Toby rushes in, talking a mile a minute about school, and his friends, and Merlin; really anything that he deems important that has happened since when he last saw her. Sarah sighs, a bit overwhelmed by his eagerness, and goes into the kitchen to mix up some hot chocolate as Toby trails behind her, still chattering on about the newest book he's read. Smiling as she throws some mini-marshmallows into the hot chocolate (Toby's favorite), she turns around to hand him the mug of cocoa.
But he's gone.
Startled, Sarah sets the mug down on the counter, trying to recount the exact second when Toby's chatter had stopped. "Toby?" she calls out, calmly at first, and then more frantically, rushing into the living room, and when she doesn't find him there, she runs into her bedroom, praying that he is just hiding under her bed, playing with her.
But the bedroom is dead silent, and Toby has never been that good at hide and seek. She searches, though, pulling back the shower curtains quickly, checking under the bed skirt. And then the lights flicker out, and something touches her ankle.
She screams, scrambling backwards quickly enough to hit her head on the bed frame, looking up quickly as the shadows seemed to pulse, converging to form a solid mass in the middle of her bedroom.
She is sure, so sure it is Jareth, that she stalks right over to the form, prodding the figure forcefully. "What the hell are you doing, Jareth?!" she asks roughly, her fear infusing some of her question. But as the figure steps away from the shadows of the room, she can see that the spiky hair is not blonde but raven black, and ashen skin has replaced Jareth's fair countenance.
It looks to be Jareth's darker, goth cousin, and Sarah would have laughed at the thought has she not been so terrified.
The figure looks at her disdainfully, smiling ferally in a way that is reminiscent of Jareth, but it holds more danger in the look. This new figure has the same regality and power as the Goblin King, but is much more sinister, as if he deals strictly in cruelty and nightmares.
She has no idea how close to the truth she truly is.
Grinning ferally, the figure draws back his cloak to expose Toby, silent and pale at his feet, and Sarah lunges for him, only for the figure to disappear, reforming at the other side of her room, laughing mirthlessly. Enraged, Sarah runs to attack the figure, all sense of reasoning gone. But he is mist again, always out of reach, taunting her with her brother, until Sarah is crying with frustration, screaming for Toby and for the mysterious figure to let him go.
She wakes up with a cry, tears still streaking down her face as she sits up from the couch.
It was all a dream, she tries to reassure herself, but it was much too realistic for her to be comfortable with.
While Sarah's logical mind tries to dissuade her, she knows that something is not right with her constant nightmares. The only question is how to stop them, how to free herself from something that was no longer natural.
She spends the whole day debating whether or not she should try to involve the Goblin King, the only person she knew that would have experience with the...supernatural? It sounded odd, and not quite befitting of the nightmares, or the King of the Goblins. They were forces beyond her world, true, but they belonged to it, nonetheless.
It has been quite a while since she has last seen him, the Goblin King, and while she does not think he will be adverse to helping her, she is not sure how to word her problems to sounds like they might be of substance, and are not simply the repercussions of stress.
And yes, she is nervous. While she and Jareth had managed to repair the lines of communication between the two of them, Sarah knew that they were still on fragile ground, and it would not take much to break the tumultuous bond that held them together. One errant comment or poorly phrased question could mean the difference between them talking for the next four, or forty, years.
But her decision was already made for her, when every time she thought back to the particular dream she had she could experience the fear she had felt when Toby was taken away from her by this new spirit. While it was true that Jareth had originally done the exact same thing, he had at least kept Toby safe while she had traversed the Labyrinth in under thirteen hours' time. She had no such illusions for the man that had so brazenly entered her home and taken Toby without even so much as an invitation or an incantation.
Even if it was only a dream, no one endangered her little brother without retribution.
When she gets home from work, she pours herself an ample glass of red wine from the bottle that has been sitting in her cabinet since she first moved into her apartment. No reason not to have a little liquid courage before summoning the King of the Goblins to help her. In the end, it takes longer than Sarah expects to get ready. It began as simply fixing her hair...and now she has ended up combing through her entire wardrobe for a suitable outfit, as well as throwing on some subtle makeup and fixing the mess of her living room. God forbid he showed up and chose to criticize her on the state of her apartment.
By the time she has finished, it is much later than she had originally hoped, and Sarah is sufficiently drunk. Trying to choose her words carefully, she remembers to not recite the exact incantation, instead opting to simply call out "Jareth," and waiting patiently for him to respond.
But after twenty minutes goes by, and then an hour, Sarah is not sure if he has indeed heard her, or he is simply choosing to ignore her. She calls out again, louder this time, and still there is no response.
An unbidden thought trails through her mind, thinking that maybe he does not want to see her, after all.
Or maybe he cannot hear her, which scares her even more.
If he cannot come to her, then surely he was not responsible for the awful nightmares she had suffered through.
She uses his full title, then, calling out for the King of the Goblins, however not going as far as wishing away someone to fulfill her little quest. It takes a few moments, but Sarah hears a crack! coming from the living room, and when she goes to investigate there is the Goblin King, standing in full regalia in the middle of her rug, looking extremely out-placed with her comfy sofa and quaint coffee table surrounding him. He has left a trail of glitter on the furniture, one Sarah is comforted to see, and the first reaction she has upon seeing him is that it is like nothing has changed; she still feels at home with him.
God forbid she ever told him that.
Jareth looks around the apartment, taking in his surroundings before laying his eyes upon Sarah, his eyes widening enough that Sarah knows he is shocked, to say the least.
She is the last person he expected to call him out in the middle of the night, expecting another bratty sibling or even an exasperated babysitter.
Not Sarah. Never Sarah.
Trying to hide his surprise, he swept his cape away, stalking over to the girl - no, woman - who stood staring at him, in awe, he was sure.
"My dear Sarah, and to what do I owe this pleasure? Any children for me tonight?" She bristles at his words, and he regrets saying them immediately after they have left his mouth, knowing that she will instantly be defensive now that he has mentioned their previous encounter.
She glares at him, taking in his black armor and poufy hair, trying to ignore the familiar feeling of trepidation that had built within her upon seeing him so regal.
"I have a problem, and you're going to help me rectify it," she finally said, noticing the way his teeth flashed as he grinned, chuckling lightly at her command.
"And what, pray tell, makes you think that you would be able to command the King of the Goblins, Sarah?" and he draws out her name, as if it is a hiss on his lips, a curse that he cannot say without causing pain. "Perhaps if you had accepted my most generous offer...I would be able to help you." Sarah is shocked, not expecting such hostility, and almost tells him to leave before seeing the quirk in his lips, the telltale sign of his joking. Sarah sighs, already irritated with the Goblin King and his temperamental nature. Plopping down on the sofa, Sarah rubs at her eyes, hoping her dark circles and pale countenance are not too noticeable.
But notice he does, and as much as Jareth wants to simply escape the house of the woman that continued to torment and deny him, he draws closer to her, hoping to learn the source of her fatigue. He doubted she normally looked so ragged, so tired. "Tell me, precious, what is it that vexes you?" And Sarah nearly starts at the endearment. It is so like him, like the man she knew nine years ago, and for a moment nothing has changed; she is still fifteen and staring, frightened, at the majestic creature that appeared in her brother's bedroom.
But nine years have passed, and while she is still young, especially compared to him, she is not quite as naive as she was then, and has matured to a point where she can hide how Jareth's presence still flusters her. She glances at him, noting the look of concern on his face, and draws her knees up to her chest. "I've been having nightmares; I haven't been able to sleep in a week." She begins slowly, hoping that he will hear her out and not simply dismiss her problem as trivial. Because it was the same conflict she had fought herself; was it really outside forces or simply an overactive imagination? What right did she have to call Jareth into this, when she was not even sure he could help? Summoning her courage, Sarah glanced up at him, trying to ignore the annoying pull in her chest whenever she looked into his mismatched eyes.
What a dumb reaction to have to someone who had once kidnapped her brother.
Jareth waited for her to elaborate, hoping she would go more into detail about the nightmares she was having. If it had been bad enough for her to summon him, then surely they were no ordinary nightmares. Knowing Sarah, she had done everything in her power to avoid calling upon him, exhausting all options before begrudgingly summoning him.
"At first, it was just a lack of sleep; a feeling of restlessness and waking up feeling unrested," she began. "But as the week progressed, I began to remember more of the dreams, and they got progressively worse." She shuddered at the memories of the dreams, trying to block them out. "The worst have been about Toby," she confessed, looking away, drawing her knees tighter to her chest, trying to prevent her limbs from shaking as they usually did when she was nervous, or scared. "And two nights ago, there was a man in my dreams that I'm pretty sure I didn't imagine. He was...dark, and the darkness seemed to pulse around him." She glanced up at Jareth timidly. "That's all I remember."
Jareth was ashen in his perch on Sarah's coffee table, having listened to her worrisome nightmares that had plagued her. There was definitely cause for concern, if Sarah's dreams were indeed being infested like he assumed. Sarah still had residual magic, collected from spending so much time in the Labyrinth, though he doubted even she was aware of it. While it was relatively weak, it should have at least prevented any outside influences from defiling her dreams.
And yet, she was still plagued with nightmares.
It was a disturbing problem, and Jareth feared it was more serious than it sounded. There were many creatures outside of the Goblin Kingdom that could disturb the flow of dreams; it was not an exclusive power to him and his peaches. There were other Kingdoms, ones with creatures much more devious and evil than his idiotic goblins; things that would feed off of fear and seek to destroy.
Jareth feared for Sarah, and while he would not say it outright to her, there was no way he would let her continue to deal with such a problem on her own. He still cared enough about her well-being to protect her from such insidious forces.
He should be the only one allowed to plague her dreams.
"This could be more serious than you imagined, Sarah," he begins, immediately regretting his choice of wording as Sarah's face paled even more. "I do not believe you are in immediate danger," he said quickly, hoping to assuage some of her worst fears. "However, there are many forces outside of the Goblin Kingdom that can cause quite a good deal more harm than my fireys." She looked at him, clearly hoping for a quick solution. The hope in her eyes, the faith she had in him, left him feeling breathless, the ache in his chest a bit sharper all of a sudden. "I can help, however, I will need to know what I am dealing with first."
Sarah quirked up an eyebrow. "How would you go about that?" And Jareth sighed, knowing she would hate this part. It was a long shot, even getting her to agree to the idea. He could tell she was just as stubborn as ever, and would definitely balk at the idea. However, it was the best way to help her.
"You would have to let me into your dreams, Precious," he said, leaning forward, and Sarah blushed, glancing quickly away. It was unconscious reaction, and she cursed herself for letting him fluster her.
"And how would you go about doing that?" She challenged, glaring back at him, hoping that her anger covered up her embarrassment and the flush of her face. He grinned, though, and she knew he had picked up on her discomfort. "Well, the easiest way would be for me to sleep with you." Sarah immediately snarled, barely restraining herself from slapping him. The insufferable prick.
"Fuck you," she shot back, the heat returning to her face.
He laughed, amused at her flustered face. "You presume much, my dear Sarah. I would merely sleep in the same bed as you. I promise I can be a perfect gentleman." The grin he wore was grating on her nerves, and Sarah was growing even more tired by the minute.
"And what of the alternatives?," she asked after a pause, rubbing her eyes wearily. Catching on to her growing fatigue, Jareth's grin faded slightly as he pondered her question.
"You could try a peach?" He asked, and she looked at him unamused, not bothering to respond.
Sarah was about ready to give up on the idea of him actually helping her when he produced a crystal with a flick of his hand, holding it out slightly so that it reflected the light from the kitchen. "Keep this in your pillow when you sleep tonight, and I will be able to enter your dreams if you allow me. You must remember to let me in, Sarah, for I cannot go where I am not invited." She glanced at him warily before taking the crystal hesitantly, pausing for a moment before wrapping her hands around the clear orb, slipping it into pocket of her shirt. She looks up, to thank him, to ask him about what would happen afterwards, but he has disappeared, leaving behind a slight trail of glitter on her coffee table that makes her smile, despite her weariness.
After getting ready for bed, she crawls under her covers, holding the crystal to her chest for a moment, curling around it as if it was the savior to her problems. She could feel the slight pulse of magic at her fingertips, and as she held it close to her chest it strengthened, her body tingling slightly in a pleasant manner.
Jareth's magic was very different from the things of her nightmares.
Placing the crystal reluctantly under her pillow, Sarah curled into her comforter, letting the fatigue finally take her.