Welcome to The Highwayman. A few notes here. One, I sadly do not own Labyrinth or the poem "The Highwayman", though the latter is a favorite of mine. I do own the Three Sisters and Derrick Scott. Now, enjoy Chapter 2!
The morning sun has a way of chasing away the shadows of night. Everything is calmer, clearer in the light and drams fade into oblivion as warm rays of pink and gold wash over the world. Sarah woke late, the morning light shining on her face. Sleep had refreshed her, the dream nothing but a distant memory. She indolently stretched out on the bed, her fingers brushing against a piece of paper. Curiosity peaked; she sat and read a short note in Derrick's blocky print.
"Thought you could use the extra rest. I'll be at the office until three." He signed his signature with a flourish.
Sarah smiled and pulled her knees up to her chest, resting her cheek upon them. It was nice to be protected and sheltered and Sarah was mostly grateful. But there was something that Derrick Scoot couldn't shelter her from: an upcoming meeting with a certain Goblin King. She went through her morning motions, her thoughts far away. Except for yesterday's brief (and intense) meeting with Jareth, she hadn't seen him in nearly fifteen years. Hoggle complained about him constantly, but as Sarah grew older she came to understand that Hoggle had a grudging admiration for his king, even if said king intimidated him.
She remembered a time when Hoggle had embarrassingly shown her a new shiny button for his vest. When she asked about it, he had blushed and mumbled something about Jareth and a promotion. Though seeing Jareth was a shock, Sarah had never forgotten him, and somewhere through the years accepted his presence. He was strangely like a friend of a friend, and it was time to become reacquainted.
Sarah chose the setting carefully and after consideration decided to call on the Goblin King at a park near her old home. Long ago she had played at being a hero among the tall oaks and pines. The brick bridge that lay above the stream made a perfect back drop to all her childhood fantasies. Here, she believed she would be on equal ground with the enigmatic king. A light breeze blew her hair away from her face and for a moment she basked in the sunlight, letting it warm her and calm her. Finally, knowing there was no more time to stall, she called out a single name.
Nothing immediately happened, and Sarah sat down hard on a stone bench, trying to conceal her disappointment. She found herself watching the people pass on the street. How normal they all looked. Did any of them have one foot in a different world? She highly doubted it. For reasons unknown to her, Sarah was blessed with the knowledge of the Underground, and she loved holding that secret close to her heart.
A shriek from the sky caused Sarah to jump and turn her eyes up. The sun's glare made it hard to see, but winging down towards the wooded park was a snowy white owl. It spiraled down into the trees and Sarah quickly left her bench and followed, anticipation rising. She arrived in time to witness the owl transformation. She had seen it before, but had forgotten how amazing the morph from owl to man looked, and how utterly magical. In one moment a majestic owl was flying, and in the next stood the Goblin King, dressed in rich red and tans, a golden medallion gleamed in the sunlight from his chest. Sarah stood still a moment before laughing, "That's a hell of an entrance," she said genuinely impressed.
Jareth smirked and moved forward, effortlessly closing the distance between them, circling around Sarah. Once so he could drink in the sight, twice to stall for time. Though he had stayed awake all night preparing to speak with Sarah, he found himself at a rather awkward silence. How does one proclaim feelings to another? It was further complicated by the fact that this was Sarah; the same Sarah who had defeated him so many years ago, and the same Sarah who stood proud and unafraid before him now. The same Sarah who was brave enough to challenge him, brave enough to meet him.
Sarah patiently waited as Jareth circled around her. At fifteen she had been determined not to be afraid when he had prowled around her, aware on some deep instinctual level that she was a form of prey. But now, as she was older, she came to realize that Jareth never stood still for long. Even after he finished circling her, his eyes flickered left and right, left and right. There was something in the way he looked at her, both hungry and yearning that terrified and excited her. The air was so tense she couldn't bare it any longer and spoke to break the tension, "So…" she began but then dropped off, unsure what to say.
Jareth shifted away from her and saved her the trouble. "Why are you marrying this man, Sarah?"
Her mouth hung open as she stared at Jareth's back. Why? "Derrick has been wonderful to me," she stammered as a reply, too shocked by the conversation to feel indignant.
Jareth smirked over his shoulder and glanced around, seemingly inspecting the wood, the park, everything and anything but her. "Why did you call on me, so long ago?"
Again Sarah was taken aback. For some reason, this was not how she expected this meeting to go, but she answered anyway. "I honestly didn't know what would happen?"
"Oh you didn't?" Jareth moved before, so quick it startled her, but Jareth just smiled. "That's not how it works, Sarah. Summons of that nature never work without true believing." He watched as she lowered her eyes and frowned; silently pleased she did not move away from him.
Sarah thought back to that long ago day, determined not to let Jareth's closeness bother her. What had made her call out to him? That play of hers, so aptly named "The Labyrinth" had captured her attention completely. She had lived and breathed that book, believing at the time that the words were true, words she echoed aloud, "But what no one knew, was that the king of the goblins had fallen in love with the girl and given her special powers…" her voice trailed away to a whisper. Love? That was insane! The Goblin King didn't, no couldn't! love her. Shaking her head she denied the words with a fury, "None of that was real!" She turned away missing the brief look of hurt on Jareth's face. "This is crazy," she continued as she paced around the king. "What do you think you're doing? Trying to ruin my life?" She accused him. "I'm going to be married in five days, the last thing I need is you playing games!"
That was too far, much too far, but Sarah only realized it too late. The shock of being yelled at left Jareth, and his blue eyes focused on her. Faster than she could blink, he had an iron grip on her forearm and she was pulled close to him, "Do you think this is a game?" He growled, voice low, "Then you know nothing." They stared at each other, time slowing to a crawl. Once, she tried to pull away, but his fingers squeezed and she decided to remain very still. There was something animal in his eyes and he continued to speak, "You think this is like before? That you can say magic words and everything disappears?" He paused, and with a slight shake of the head spoke again, "There is more at stake here, Sarah." His gaze and grip softened and he moved a strand of hair from her face.
The action was so natural, so smooth, like he had done it a thousand times. Even though his grip on her arm was lessened, she didn't pull away. There was something that made her stay, a distant memory of someone reaching out to her…like a dream she could not quite place.
Jareth felt, more than physically saw, a change in Sarah. At first he believed he had said too much. He hadn't meant to express himself so openly, but her flippant disregard angered him. But now, nearly face to face, he watched as her eyes glazed over. When she looked up at him, he knew she was seeing through him, past him, and when she whispered long forgotten words he grasped both her shoulders. "What, what did you just say?"
Sarah blinked and focused on the pair of blue eyes before her, his wild blond hair was moving on the breeze, just like in her dream. "Watch for me by the moonlight," she replied louder, stronger, more confident. The change in Jareth was instantaneous, and this time she knew he was going to kiss her, but she was still unprepared. The passion of the kiss left her weak and had it not been for strong arms holding onto her, Sarah would have fallen limply to the ground. But Jareth was holding her and she was holding him, clutching tightly to his velvet vest. The world around her narrowed until all that remained was the two of them and a kiss. And somewhere in that moment a realization came to her. This man before her loved her, loved her with an all-consuming passion that left her dizzy and exhilarated. New emotions washed over her again, so strange and yet so familiar, so strong they scared her and she broke the kiss.
Jareth took several breaths as he inspected the woman before him. Sarah looked at him with new understanding in her green eyes, but he also saw fear and hesitation. He lightly caressed her cheek with the back of his gloved hand, "I need you to remember," he whispered softly against her ear.
Swallowing hard, she stared at her hands, still clutching his vest. "I don't know how…and…I'm afraid." The last she finished as she lifted her eyes. Jareth was smiling at her, that breathtaking smile that made her heart skip a beat.
"You have more courage than anyone I have ever met," was all he said, and Sarah believed him. Every word he said seemed to give her strength. At that moment is was so easy to forget the outside worlds, but the world never stays forgotten for long.
A piercing ring from Sarah's jean pocket broke the moment and Sarah released her hold on Jareth and scrambled to answer her cell phone, fumbling with the buttons before finally saying hello. The voice of Derrick Scott cut through the wood and Jareth moved away. Sarah was unsure what she was saying on the phone, too preoccupied watching Jareth, secretly worried he would vanish. Her automatic replies must have been inadequate. Derrick paused and asked, "Is everything alright, Sarah?"
Forcing herself, she turned away from Jareth and concentrated on her conversation. "Yeah! Sorry, Derrick, I was just trying to decide on some fruit for lunch." The rest of the conversation was short and sweet, but when she said goodbye she felt guilty, but oddly enough, not towards her fiance. When she turned back to face Jareth she half expected him to have left. But he stood there, daylight surrounding him in a halo. He was dazzling in the sunlight, a faint light radiated away from him. The apology died on her lips when she saw understanding in his eyes.
He smiled sadly and looked upward. Staying Above was taxing and draining. He needed to return Underground and soon. Sarah knew he was planning to leave and a panic swept through her. Would he return? A strange ache filled her chest and she wrapped her arms around her afraid to ask, but Jareth seemed to sense her hesitance. Before he vanished, he spoke reassuring words. "Remember, Sarah. Remember, and I will appear."
Then he was gone, and with him went that certain brilliance. Now there was only Sarah, alone and confused in a world that seemed to have dulled before her eyes. Jareth said she was brave, but she felt more afraid than she ever had in her life. Even more afraid than when she ran the Labyrinth. Now, there was no book to tell her the ending, no way for her to know how the story would end. The only real thing she knew with any certainty was that Jareth, the Goblin King, loved her. Everything seemed to pale in comparison. With a heavy heart and a confused mind, Sarah turned from the park and went to find a nearby fruit stand.
Returning to the castle was bittersweet. Being a creature of magic, Jareth required the Underground to sustain him. Trips Above used enormous amounts of magic that tended to leave him tired and drained. But it was all worth it to see Bess. No, his mind corrected, as he walked to his private wing of the castle. It wasn't Bess before him anymore, it was Sarah. He wasn't chasing a ghost; Sarah was real and within touch, and she was beginning to understand. When she spoke those words, those last words he ever spoke to Bess, he knew: Sarah had the memories, locked deep somewhere inside her. All she needed to do was remember.
Though it was only early evening in the Labyrinth, Jareth was exhausted. Sleep had had not been easy the last two nights and the Aboveground visit had worn him thin. All he wanted was a glass of wine and slumber. Surely he was entitled to that. He rounded the corner to his suite and paused, slightly taken aback. The dwarf Hoggle was fidgeting in front of his door, wearing a look of half determination and half horror.
"I don't have time for you, Hoghead," Jareth said resuming walking.
Hoggle bristled like he always did when his name was mispronounced, but defiantly stayed. "You should be making time."
That was new. Hoggle rarely argued with Jareth, except where Sarah was involved. He paused before the dwarf and lifted his brows, "Oh?"
Instead of flinching, Hoggle dug into his pocket and fetched out a scrying crystal. "Shouldn't leave 'em lying around like that! Anyone could see." Jareth allowed the rebuff to go unanswered. For once, it seemed the dwarf was correct. He retrieved the crystal and it vanished in his grasp; the suspicious look on Hoggle's face was then replaced with smugness. "You should thank me, you know. The Green Sister was snooping around here."
Jareth clinched his jaw. "Heryah? Is she still here?"
"Aye," Hoggle said with a nod. "Insisted on waiting 'til you returned." The dwarf grinned, "Tolds her you were inspecting the Labyrinth."
Jareth laughed. It was no secret that Heryah hated the Labyrinth. The Green Sister was known for her claustrophobia, and the twisting, ever-changing walls of the maze were like a plague she avoided at all costs. "Hoggle, you did well." Hoggle's mouth fell slack from shock, and Jareth continued speaking. "Go tell her I shall see her in the study." Hoggle nodded and with a quick, "Yes, Majesty," ambled down the hall. A sudden desire to be kind came over Jareth and he called back to the dwarf. Poor Hoggle was scared to death as he returned to his king. Jareth on a good day was mercurial; Jareth on a bad day was dangerous. He thought he had escaped unharmed, even if he had argued with the king. With trepidation, Hoggle stood before his king, staring down at soft leather boots. When Jareth knelt down to his eye level, Hoggle blanched. But as he looked closer her saw no malice in his king's mismatched eyes, only amusement.
"I may have been hasty the other day, regarding the mirrors," Jareth began with a small (dare Hoggle think apologetic) smile.
Hoggle worked his mouth, "So…so's I can use them?" He asked hopeful.
Jareth stood in a single movement. "Yes, you may use them. Now go away, Hoggle, and tell Heryah I'll be there shortly." Jareth didn't miss Hoggle's appreciative glance, but said no more, content to watch the dwarf hurry down the halls. As much trouble as Hoggle could be, he was refreshing change from the dimwitted goblins. Jareth couldn't help but grin as he entered his suite. He changed quickly into more casual garb of whites and grey before his meeting with Heryah.
Of the Three Sisters, Heryah was the most vexing. The voluptuous blond made it no secret that she wished to share his bed, and her forwardness irked him. For all of Heryah's beauty she lacked the charming wit of Temanna and the soothing charm of Sophia. But forever quickly grew boring. Jareth could not afford to isolate friends, even if they did arrive at inopportune moments.
As he approached the study warm light from a fire flickered into the hall. He leaned against the door frame and watched as Heryah inspected his books and pens, and assorted odds n' ends. She paused before a large painting of the Labyrinth and shook her head in disgust. Jareth lightly entered the room and suppressed a grin as Heryah jumped as he spoke, "Good evening, Heryah."
A white hand pressed against her chest as she spun around. "Oh Jareth," she said breathlessly, her green eyes sparkling, "you startled me."
Ignoring her response, Jareth moved to a wine rack and purposefully chose a hearty red wine. "Would you care for a glass?" he asked showing the vintage. When she nodded he popped the cork and poured them both a glass, ushering them over to two large chairs beside the fire.
Heryah arranged her dress in such a way that an entire leg was exposed to the hip. She smiled broadly. "I thought to visit you last night."
It was difficult keeping the annoyance from showing in his eyes. "I had previous engagements," he replied smoothly sipping the wine.
"Above, perhaps?" She wore an innocent expression, but Jareth noted a sharpness to her green eyes. Heryah would never ask such a question without already knowing the answer, but Heryah did not wait for a reply. Slowly, she rose from her chair, careful to move in a way that would accentuate her curves. "You don't need to venture Above for companionship," she said with a purring voice. Jareth was amazed when Heryah took his glass and leaned in close to him, her perfume overflowing his senses.
This wasn't the first time Heryah had tried to seduce him, but this was certainly her most open. He shot her an annoyed glare and ducked under her arms, retrieving his glass and putting distance between them in one fluid motion. "Heryah," he tried to begin, a warning in his voice, but Heryah disregarded his tone.
"Jareth, I could give you everything you ever desired," she pouted her red lips as she gave him a sultry stare.
A deep scowl set upon Jareth's face. "You better than anyone should know that I can't accept." He softened his expression, hoping Heryah would take a hint and drop the subject like she had so many times before. Though her advances were unwanted, her friendship wasn't and he wished to avoid unnecessarily hurting her feelings. However, he was unprepared for her fiery and venomous reply.
"You want a ghost!" You have spent centuries searching for a memory, and why?" Heryah's voice shrieked. So caught up in the moment she failed to notice the dangerous tensing of Jareth's body. Instead, she continued, "And now you see this mortal whore-"She never had a chance to finish her sentence. One minute Jareth was across the room, the next he was standing before her, bearing down on her in such fury she was truly afraid.
"I would hold your tongue, if I were you!" The temperature dropped, the fire sputtered before dying out and Jareth's blond hair danced wildly on an unseen breeze. The air was electric and Jareth's eyes were aglow. He resumed a slow, steady approach; Heryah began backtracking until her back was against a cold, stone wall. Jareth was torn. He was furious and the clinching of his fists was all that kept him from wringing Heryah's skinny neck, yet never in his long existence had he raised a hand to a woman. Heryah raised her hands in defense and it caused Jareth to pause. There was fear in her eyes, genuine fear, and some of the tension eased from his body. He stepped away, and as he did the room returned to a normal temperature, the fire roared back to life.
He made a point of turning his back on Heryah, and he retrieved his glass of wine. "We're not going to speak of this again, are we?"
Chest rising and falling in quick gasps, Heryah managed to utter a quick 'No'. Jareth did not say another word; he only grabbed the bottle of wine and exited the study never looking back. Only when she was sure he wouldn't return did Heryah relax from the wall, taking a deep breath. Now alone, some of the fear was replaced with anger. If she was truly honest with herself she would have recognized shame, but instead she held onto anger.
Never one to analyze her own actions, Heryah sought another explanation for this harsh rejection. She loved Jareth, yearned for him, had for a very long time. And it had seemed to her that her recent advances were working, so what changed? A vision of green eyes, darker than her own, arose in her memory and Heryah sneered. There was only one person who could come between her and Jareth. One person, who against all odds was back into Jareth's life. An all-consuming jealously roared to life within Heryah. Storming to the fireplace, she threw glass and wine into the fire. The goblet shattered, and Heryah remained standing still, an idea forming. A long time ago she removed another competitor for Jareth's affection, and it seemed time to do it again. The irony that it was the same one, was not lost on Heryah and she allowed a devilish smile to form on her lips before disappearing from the castle.
Jareth should have remembered that old adage: "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned," but living an eternal life changes one's perceptions. No emotion could sway him very long, for he had experienced them all so many times before. The one exception was his love for Sarah. That could sustain him forever, if he allowed it. All the other emotions, however; came and went, never staying. The goblins and other denizens accepted and understood Jareth's temperaments as much as he did. He never paused to question whether other eternal beings felt the same. If he had, he could foresee some future danger in Heryah, but he didn't.
With a brisk walk, Jareth returned to his suite, finally ready to retire. When he saw Hoggle leaving his rooms, his anger flared.
The dwarf, upon seeing his king was quite angry, pre-empted Jareth's rant, "I knows, I knows! You ain't got time for me! And I'm moving, I'm moving!"
Jareth closed his mouth and said nothing, suspiciously watching Hoggle move down the hall before entering his room. He was more than a little surprised to see the fire burning. On his desk was a silver tray, steaming with meats and vegetables. Jareth spun around, half expecting to see the little man gloating silently, but Hoggle was not there. So, Jareth instead sat before his meal and ate in a pleasant silence, touched by the dwarf's thoughtfulness. The rest of the Underground and the Above could wait one night, he decided. Tonight, he was going to sleep.
Nights in the Underground Autumn, were refreshingly cool compared to the heat of the day. Many creatures become nocturnal during the summer and autumn months, only venturing forth as the sun sets. The Firey's (who gave the wooden area of their home its namesake) were one such race. When dusk fell, the bright red and orange creatures lit campfires, played silly games and sang silly songs. Temanna loved to watch them. Though she never partook in their games, she enjoyed their antics high above on a wide branch from an ancient oak. The Firey's knew she was there tonight, for it was impossible to miss her flaming red hair and crimson flowing robes, and they tried their best to make her laugh.
Some time passed before the air shimmered a hazy blue beside Temanna, and she smiled as her sister, Sophia came into focus. Sophia was the calmest of the Three Sisters, cool as blue as her eyes. She moved effortlessly, seeming to float. Her dress held every color of blue, changing with each movement. Her brown hair fell nearly to her ankles and always seemed to have a life of its own, much like Temanna's red, wavy hair.
Temanna gestured beside her, "Come and sit Sophia! And how are you this evening, sister of mine?"
Sophia sat, but found it difficult to return the smile. She loved Temanna, but her sister rarely stayed serious long enough to have a conversation. But tonight, Sophia would try. "Do you think we have been fair to Jareth?"
That got Temanna's attention and her amber eyes snapped open. "What do you mean fair? We granted him life…"
"Yes, I know….but we made him a bargain too."
"And we'll uphold that bargain," Temanna paused and searched Sophia's troubled face. "Why are you asking this now? What are you hiding?"
Sophia grimaced. It was so easy to fool the self-centered Heryah, but Temanna was more aware. "I think he has found her," she whispered, afraid that if she voiced the thought aloud something bad would happen. Sophia waited for Temanna to exclaim disbelief, but instead she just averted her eyes. "You knew!" Sophia accused.
Temanna nodded and shrugged. "If she can remember her past and her love for Jareth, we will fulfill our end of the bargain." Temanna spoke lightly. Ever an optimist, she believed Jareth and Bess…er…Sarah…would eventually live together. Why wouldn't they?
Sophia took a deep sigh and looked up to the starry night sky. Some clouds were forming and in the distance the unmistakable sound of thunder boomed through the Underground. She stood suddenly, "A storm is coming Temanna." She bit her lip as her sister looked up at her with questioning eyes. "I am not like you and Heryah. She lives her life like these trees, always climbing up, never looking down, never caring who she over shadows. And you, you live like the fires down there, always burning forward, bright and hot, never looking back to see the wreckage you have wrought. But me," she took a deep breath. "I am like the tides ebbing to and fro. I do look back and I do look forward…and I don't like what I see."
Temanna began to worry. Sophia was generally quiet and passive and these things she said were out of character for her. They were true, but that came second to the fact that is was Sophia saying them. The air began to feel heavy as the storm moved closer, but Temanna knew it was a different storm that Sophia spoke. "Tell me your concerns, sister. I hear you." Temanna said as she stood from the branch.
Sophia was relieved to hear the sincerity in Temanna's voice, for she would need one sister's help to stop another. "It's Heryah. I think she might do something rash."
Small drops of rain began to fall, and then with a crack of thunder the rain poured down upon them. The giant oak shielded them from the worse, but still a fine mist surrounded them, dampening their hair and robes. "Go on," Temanna said, raising her voice over the thunder.
"You know she's always been infatuated with Jareth. It was her idea to grant him life."
"He inspired her, Sophia. That was all," defended Temanna.
"And you're lying to yourself!" Sophia shouted. Temanna stepped back in shock, but Sophia continued. "She wanted him, and I don't think Heryah had any intention of him finding Bess again." She took a few calming breaths, drops of water ran down her face and she brushed them aside. "Temanna, I think Heryah was responsible for that night."
The rain continued to fall, the night interrupted by flashing lightning and booming thunder and all Temanna could do was stare at her sister. The oak was thoroughly saturated and both sisters were damp as they faced one another. It was impossible for Temanna to disprove Sophia's misgivings, for at one time she had had her suspicions as well. All she could think to say was, "That's all in the past, Sophia. What does it matter?"
"It is not in the past!" Sophia shook her sister's shoulder in urgency. "Don't you understand? Bess is back and Jareth knows," she paused not able to say anymore.
"But, but Heryah doesn't know," Temanna smiled. "Everything will be alright, you'll see." Temanna's hope was shattered as Sophia's expression changed from pleading to fright.
"She knows."
Now Temanna shared Sophia's concern. They stood side by side, arm in arm, both feeling helpless and both feeling like traitors. In unspoken words they struggled with their choices. Heryah was their flesh and blood, they loved their sister, needed her. And yet, Jareth had been a valuable friend through the centuries, always trusting they would honor their word that Bess would one day return to him.
At night everything seems so dire and the storm was soaking the world around them, letting gloom and despair cloud out any other reason, any other possibilities. Temanna shook her very wet hair out of her face. "We can't do anything right now. Let's wait until morning. I will speak to Heryah, you speak with Jareth." She smiled at her sister. "You'll see. All of this will seem silly in the morning." Then she embraced Sophia, lightly kissing both cheeks before vanishing in a red poof of glitter.
Temanna may choose to believe whatever she wished, but dread had crept into Sophia's heart. No morning sun was going to change her misgivings. Temanna was correct in deciding to visit Jareth. That would be her only hope. Jareth had defied death for his true love, had made a bargain to find her again. Sophia highly doubted that Jareth would allow harm to befall this mortal woman. And yet she feared what would happen if he ever learned her suspicions about Heryah. For now, she would wait, like Temanna suggested. But when the sun rose she would take action.
She vanished, leaving the rain to fall on the lonely forest. All the creatures had scurried for cover after the storm broke. No fireys played, their fires long extinguished. The steady fall of the rain washed out all other sound of the Underground; an eerie silence in the midst of a storm.
One more thing. :) This story is finished! But I am a busy girl and will update as often as I can. Thank you to everyone who signed up for the alerts and thank you to all who review. This story is near and dear to my heart so I hope you enjoy it. ~Nylle
