When Sarah awoke she considered harps. They were often in portrayals of heaven. But why? Harps were certainly a very specific instrument, beautiful certainly but hard to lug around. Maybe it started out as a lyre. That would be more historically accurate. But still, instrumental litter? It really was a silly idea, but as she looked around the first thing she noticed was the conspicuous lack of harps. You just get used to an idea you know?
She was in a large room. Well maybe 'bower' would have been a more appropriate term. Heavy stones housed a counterpoint of finely woodworked items. An ornate vanity, a large soft bed, and a massive set of floral stain glass doors leading to what she presumed was some sort of patio or balcony. Outside the sun was shining brightly lending an ethereal rainbow effect to the entire room. The bedclothes were the whitest white and very obviously some kind of down. She stroked the soft, soothing fabric over with her tentative fingers. It took her a moment to realize they were still the hands of an old woman, nearly translucent and aching with arthritis.
What? How can this be? Why would I still be old here?
Her heart broke. How can she spend eternity like this? Being old was always exhausting, wasn't this her time to rest? She tried to sit up and groaned as her body protested.
In response she heard a clatter from behind her and the hurried shuffle of shoes. Looking to her left just in time to see Jareth running. No scampering, into the room and skidding rather gracelessly to a stop at the side of her bed. In one of his hands he held a silver handled hair brush, and his face held an eager expression. She raised a critical eyebrow at him.
Young people are never careful enough
As if sensing her matronly disapproval, he drew his back up and straightened his dark blue brocade vest. His face drawing into what she supposed was meant to be a haughty countenance.
"Uh uh, you don't get to play the fearsome king ever again."
He visibly deflated, but smiled warmly.
"Ahem, I see you're awake. That's most excellent."
Her eyes pointedly looked towards the hairbrush he had tried to hide behind his back.
"Oh this? I…well. I was preparing your en suite. Nothing but the best for a champion of mine. I didn't trust anyone else to do it."
She held out her hand expectantly and he obediently handed her the brush. She used it to point to the chair over by the vanity. "Help me."
He blinked for a second, and then bent down over the bed. She had expected him to give her a hand. Giving out a shocked cry when he instead elected to just lift her straight out bed and carry her over to set her gently down into the chair. As easy for him as if she was an empty cardboard box.
"Thank you very much." He nodded once at her while gently pushing her chair closer to the vanity.
Considering the mirror, she saw herself. She had been dressed in a lovely periwinkle muslin sleeping gown. With white lace on the cuffs, hem, and neckline it was conservative while still being feminine. He really did have impeccable taste. But my, her hair was a fright. She began working on one tangle while looking at his reflection.
"Alright, I am going to ask you what has happened and you are going to tell me everything honestly."
"Sarah, I don't think that's…"
She pinned him with what she like to call her 'uber aunt' eyes. They were very effective at disciplining children who wouldn't listen to their parents. She was pleased to see they still worked, he caved under them instantly.
"You aren't dead."
"That's clear. How did I survive? I'm quite sure that I died. I felt it."
He took a deep breath.
He's bracing himself, oh dear.
"Well, you aren't strictly speaking…alive either. I was able to grant you sanctuary, but it happened at the exact moment that your spirit left your body. Somehow that process mingled with my own power to prevent you passing and bring you here. You do exist here, but it's…really difficult to explain."
He knelt beside her to look at her properly.
"Do you remember when you were here last? How things appeared from nowhere?"
She nodded slowly, not sure where he was going with this.
"That's the power of the Labyrinth, it's a very creation based entity."
"The Labyrinth is alive?"
"Yes, it is. It's not dissimilar to your Great Barrier Reef. It's very old. It grows and changes, acting as a sort of natural filter for magic. It gives human dreams substance and in turn we subsist off that substance. It stabilizes our environment and helps to give birth to life here. Providing a home for many other creatures, mostly varied species of Goblin. People come from all over to view it and pay their respects. Such is the nature of my Kingdom."
"So, you're some kind of a zookeeper?" Sarah asked incredulously.
He cringed at the comparison. "More like a caretaker. The point is, when your spirit passed through the veil with me, the magic of this place gave you physical form. But it is different from anything I have ever seen. Your own soul dictates how you exist. I believe that is why you are still…aged. You have been accustomed to that state of being for so long its acting as a kind of spiritual default."
She took in her reflection again. Her fingers coming up to touch the face of the withered woman who stared back at her. "Will I always be this way?"
"That depends on you. I believe you have the power to change it. But I cannot advise you on how to wield it."
Sarah put down the brush with an aggressive thud.
"I'd like to be alone now please."
He looked hurt, pain flashing across his features before sliding once again into a mask of indifference. He stood up briskly and walked away from her. Briefly pausing to point at a cord hanging from the ceiling by the head of her bed.
"That will call the staff. They are under strict orders to provide you with anything you need." With several long strides he walked towards a big oak door on the far side of the room. Pausing with his hand on the door handle he said in a tight voice,
"I know this isn't what you wanted, but I am immensely relieved all the same."
He opened the door and slammed it shut. Leaving her to consider her strange fate.