For anyone that is reading this story, I am in the process of moving (far, far away) and so, I'm not sure when the next update will be. My apologies. Also, this chapter is just a lot of talking. I apologize for that, too. ;)
Chapter 3: The Bargain is Struck. Kinda.
For one brief, horrible moment, Sarah was filled with the most awful sense of vertigo she had ever been privileged to experience. And then her feet were firmly planted back on solid ground. Unfortunately, said ground was no longer the rich, polished hardwood of a Dutch Colonial farmhouse turned psychiatrist's office, but the old stones of a medieval castle whose only polish was the wear of time and tread of feet. Though, it didn't seem as if this room got that heavy of foot-traffic, she admitted, glancing around somewhat dizzily as the remaining cobwebs of spatial distortion were cleared from her sorely abused brain.
It appeared that the Goblin King had magicked them into his study. Or at least a study. There were no physical characteristics she could see that would lend her to believe the man spent much time there. Relatively small and cramped, it contained a tall, skinny bookshelf overflowing with tomes of all shapes and sizes, a low divan upholstered in ivory silk which occupied the entirety of the far wall, and – the apparent centerpiece of the room – a garish and too-large cherry-wood desk complete with matching swivel chair.
The only other piece of furniture was a tiny end-table that accompanied the divan. A silver tray bearing a crystal pitcher and glasses took up most of its diminutive top. A few muted tapestries depicting prosaic scenes of country or courtly life adorned the walls, their pastel embroidery clashing heavily with the plush red carpet that covered the floor. About the only thing that overtly screamed 'Jareth' was the little prismatic sphere lying innocently on one corner of the hideous desk; though, if the little orb had once been magical, it had been downgraded somewhere along the line to 'paperweight' as it appeared to be the only thing keeping a large, uneven stack of parchments from flying off into space.
Everything in the room was of an obviously fine quality, but, aside from the desk and chair, nothing at all matched. To Sarah, who had grown up with design consultants, Feng-shui, and several cable channels entirely devoted to home renovation and decoration, the whole thing looked like a Buckingham Palace garage-sale gone bad.
This quick appraisal of her surroundings took Sarah at most fifteen seconds. It took her another five to realize the Goblin King still had ahold of her arm. And that his grip had loosened. Twisting out of his grasp this time was entirely too easy, and she all but flung herself to the other side of the little room to be as far away from him as possible incase he tried something idiotic. Again.
Sarah was most definitely not in the mood to be abducted today, of all days. She really did have an important audition tomorrow, which she was most probably going to miss thanks to his Royalness. An audition she had worked her ass off to secure, calling in favors and running herself ragged trying to ingratiate herself with the right people just to have a single shot at the part. Eponine might not be as coveted a role as Cosette or even Fantine, but damn it she wanted it, and she was going to have it – if it weren't for this puffed up excuse for a fairy king.
Jareth, for his part, seemed not even to have noticed her discomfort at being in the same room with him. He was straightening his sleeves and smoothing down his jacket almost as if he was... preening?
"Well, Sarah, how did you find my performance?" he queried, a smug smirk gracing his lips. But it wasn't the usual smug, creepy Jareth-smirk. No, this particular arrogant expression was much more open, like a boy who had just done a terribly complicated skateboard trick in front of all of his friends, which was weird because she could just imagine the Goblin King getting his ass handed to him if he showed up at a skate park dressed as he was. Not entirely certain how to react to this new version of her arch-nemesis, she stuck with what had worked in the past: bitchy teen.
"Your performance?" She paused as if giving it a great amount of thought. "Oh, it was... adequate, I suppose." She refrained from adding an indignant sniff and hoped that the brief shock she had felt over his question hadn't shown on her face. She was, however, somewhat relieved to find out that all that scary crap had just been an act. She knew that the Goblin King was a prick and a half, but she didn't think he would ever actually hurt her. Much.
Which is why she felt a tiny, infinitesimal amount of guilt at the crestfallen look he shot her. Though it wasn't enough to stop her from adding, "And I bet you practiced for days in front of the mirror to get those oh-so-frightening facial expressions just right, didn't you?"
"You would know, Sarah-my-dear. After all, I do believe it is you that is oh-so-familiar with standing in front of mirrors," he grinned rather sardonically as he mocked her.
Her face flushed an ugly shade of crimson, "You know very well they don't come when I call anymore. And I just bet you had something to do with it, you big jerk. Can't stand the fact that someone actually wanted to be friends with a dwarf, a monster, and a fox with a horrible sense of smell over you."
He brushed her angry words off like so much dryer-lint, replying matter-of-factly, "You reached your age of majority. I had nothing at all to do with that. The only reason I knew you kept in contact at all was because I felt it every time you called and they answered. I know when anyone in my realm contacts the Above Ground. It wasn't as if I was keeping tabs on you, Sarah." He looked at her incredulously, one eyebrow rising dangerously close to his hairline, "Is that what you think? That I've been spying on you all this time, just waiting for you to say the words again so I could spirit you off to the Underground? To do what, exactly? Exact my terrible revenge? Seduce you?" He chuckled slightly, "Utterly ridiculous."
Sarah wasn't entirely sure she believed him, but she was feeling somewhat mollified until he added, "Besides, you're human. Forgive me, but the idea of seducing one of your kind is akin to the idea of bedding a goblin." And he really meant it, judging from the unabashed look of disgust gracing his fine features at the very thought. Of having sex. With her. That complete and total jerk!
Her anger was back ten-fold, and she was just working herself into spitting cat mode when he really looked at her for perhaps the first time that day, "Pardon, but did I say something to upset you?" He cocked his head to the side, looking genuinely confused. So, here was proof that the Goblin King really was just an idiotic man after all, speaking before thinking. She felt all the anger seep out of her along with the adrenaline that had been keeping her on her feet. Her shoulders slumped, and she felt a little woozy and then a little nauseous, almost like she could throw up right at his Highness' feet if the room didn't stop spinning.
"Hmm. Perhaps you should sit down," the King suggested, but instead of waiting for her to seat herself, he gently led her over to the divan, pushing her down when she seemed incapable of making her body obey simple commands. He poured a clear liquid from the crystal decanter into a waiting glass and offered it to her. After some moments of her staring blankly back at him, he huffed exasperatedly, "It's only water. I swear it."
Rolling his eyes when she still refused to accept, he poured himself a glass and took a long drink before holding out the glass he had previously offered. She took it this time, sniffing the liquid inside suspiciously before taking a hesitant sip. "Thank you," she offered meekly, having verified the drink was indeed only water and feeling foolish for nearly passing out on His Majesty's ugly red carpet.
He nodded his acceptance of her thanks and then – thank God! – moved away from her to sit in the chair behind the desk. Perhaps it was his office after all, she mused noting the way he casually draped himself in the desk chair as if he most assuredly belonged there and the very idea of anyone else having the audacity to sit in this particular chair but him was patently inconceivable. Of course, that could just be the way he sat in any chair. She really didn't have much to go on, this being the first time she had seen him sitting somewhere other than the ground. And she was probably still in shock if she was contemplating Jareth's choice of seats instead of trying to figure out a way to get back home and to her audition.
She shook her head a bit at her inane thoughts and then realized the King had been trying to get her attention and was looking more than a little put out that she wasn't hanging on his every word.
"I'm sorry, could you repeat that?" she asked politely, thinking it better to behave while he was acting so nicely. Maybe he would agree to send her home quickly while he was in such a seemingly docile mood.
"I said that I really don't have any idea what I am supposed to do with you now. No one has ever actually wished themselves away before. You are a rather unprecedented creature, Sarah. One would think you merely exist to vex me." He smirked at her affectionately, rather like she had done with Merlin after chastising him for running through the house with muddy paws.
"You could just send me home," she suggested hopefully, a wan smile tugging at the corners of her lips. She knew she looked pathetic, but if it got her home faster she'd beg at the jerk's feet. Well, maybe not beg, per se, but plead dramatically until he agreed to let her go.
He took another sip of his own water and studied her for a moment. She was beginning to feel a little like a bug under a microscope when he responded, "No, I'm afraid that's not possible."
"Why not?" she immediately challenged, having forgotten her earlier admonition to behave.
"Because you wished yourself away," was his annoyed response, as if it made all the sense in the world, which it didn't. Not one bit.
And so she followed up with, "But I was only talking to Paul about the last time I was here. I didn't actually mean to wish myself away." Alright, so maybe that was a bit of a fib, but there was more truth in it than lie and now that she was actually here, she really didn't want to be.
"Yes, yes, however, as you know, what's said is said. Though you may have only been discussing your previous," he paused, searching for the right word, "...adventures here, the fact remains you did indeed speak the incantation. And you must have meant it at least somewhat, or it would not have worked." So much for him not seeing through her little white lie. "Also, you were telling another how to best the Labyrinth, which is, Sarah, rather a lot like cheating." He scowled at her a touch grumpily.
"Maybe," she offered glumly. "But.."
He cut her off quickly, "The problem isn't only that you wished yourself away, Sarah." She was really getting tired of how he said 'yourself' like she was the biggest dummy to ever live. It wasn't as if she'd meant it! She hadn't even been sure if the Labyrinth was real or if she'd gone mildly psychotic due to excessive amounts of hormones in her early teens.
Jareth continued on, unaware of her snappish internal dialogue, which really was just as well. "The second problem is that you have already beaten the Game once before. And there isn't another one, Sarah. There isn't another one because it was assumed most people would learn their lesson the first time. Or, if by some strange happenstance they were to win, they would be so grateful to be gone that they would never think on this place again except in their nightmares." He turned a hard glare on her, as if to drive home the point she was a blithering idiot. "But apparently, the Contractors never conceived of a creature such as yourself, one who would, after defeating her many trials and tribulations, allow her mind to dwell on the Game to the point of forging bonds with its inhabitants strong enough to call them to her, who would say the words again, and mean them, and last of all who would wish herself away the next time she got it into her head to play with old spells and curses," he finished with a sigh and a little shake of his head at the absolute absurdity of it all. Bastard.
"Oh, as if I knew it was a God damned curse," she spat. She was really getting tired of his condescending bullshit.
"You surely ought to have after you used it the once, little girl." He was starting to sound like his old self, at least the self that she remembered, and she didn't like it at all.
"I still don't understand why you can't just send me home," she sulked.
"As I said, you wished yourself away," he repeated for what felt like the billionth time.
She huffed indignantly. "I get that. But that still doesn't explain why you can't just send me home. I can't read your damn mind, Goblin King, so if you could just spit it out, I would stop asking," she nearly growled.
His eyes shifted from hers to the papers on the desk and back again before he leaned forward, resting his elbow on the desktop and his face on his upturned hand. And then he gave her an answer. Unfortunately, it was spoken into his palm and therefore nothing more than a garbled mumble.
"Pardon?" she mimicked. "I didn't quite catch that, if you would be so kind as to repeat it." Her voice was saccharin sweet until the end when her teeth began to grind together so forcefully she was surprised the words had even managed to escape her lips relatively intact let alone perfectly intelligible.
Jareth heaved a large sigh and then spoke the most horrible words she had ever heard in her life. They were right up there with, 'Your mother ran off with a man from her acting class,' and, 'It didn't mean anything. You know you're the only one for me.'
"I don't have the power to send you home. I could only bring you here because you wished it."
She blinked at him for many, many moments until grating out, "And you couldn't have just told me that in the first place?"
Not even looking remotely chagrined, the blasted monarch managed to mutter, "I did tell you, about a half-dozen times, why you could not go home. It is not my fault your tiny human intellect could not grasp the concept." How he could still sound so melodious and smooth while voicing such petulant thoughts, Sarah would never know. What she did know is that however nice his voice was, he was still a great big ass.
"So, as my brain is apparently the size of a pea, would you please explain to me, slowly and with as many words as necessary, why it is I'm stuck here. Forever. With you." She glowered over at him, arms crossed over her chest and right foot tapping impatiently on the carpet.
He gave her a deadpan look as he began to mechanically recite the whys and wherefores of his inability to return her home. "You, Sarah Williams, wished yourself away knowingly and willingly." It was apparently plain she was about to interrupt him because he continued on a bit louder. "And if you also wish me to explain this to you, you will keep your sizable mouth shut."
She glared daggers at him as he continued to do his best to ignore her. "As I was saying, you knew the words had power and yet you still said them. This would, as you know, normally result in you running the Labyrinth for a chance to win whatever it was that you wished away – in this case, yourself. But, you see, the problem is, is that you have already done that and won. Had you lost, you could have challenged the Game any number of times, being sent home automatically each time you lost. Of course, you would have also lost whatever it was you were trying to save. However, as you have already solved the Labyrinth, it is impossible for you to make another attempt." Another interruption was on the tip of her tongue, but he held up a hand to forestall her.
"And before you ask me why, it is because that is the way of things here. You cannot expect to be allowed to face a Challenge that you already know how to defeat. That would be decidedly less than fair, after all." At this, he grinned toothily at her. "And, as you wished your own self away, there is no one else to undertake the task for you. Thereby leaving no mechanism to send you home as the Contract me and mine have with the Labyrinth's creators is to collect those wished away, give them a chance to attain freedom through those who spoke the curse to be rid of them, and to dispose of them properly once the curse caster has failed or forfeited. It was not I who sent you and your brother back. It was merely the end results of your victory. So too do those who fail return home by the will of the maze. I have no part in it." He paused, clearly gearing up for his big conclusion, she hoped.
"And that, dear Sarah, is why you are stuck here. But it may not be forever, and it most assuredly will not be with me. Fate willing, I will not ever have to see you again once you leave this room."
She looked at him suspiciously and clung to the one piece of hope she had found in his long-winded explanation, "What do you mean it might not be forever?"
He shrugged noncommittally, "It is possible that you may find someone out there who has the power to send you back. Though, it is just as likely that you will be eaten. Actually, the chance of you being eaten is much greater than you finding a being with sufficient enough power to breach the barrier between worlds."
"But, don't you routinely cross between worlds when you abduct us mere mortals?" She supposed further antagonizing the King was a bad choice, but she was rather too far gone at the moment to care. Besides, he had started it with the crack about her being as sexually appealing as a goblin.
"Mm..." he paused, "Aside from the fact that I do not abduct people.." The look on Sarah's face spoke volumes as to what she thought about that. "I only collect the wished away and, at times, the wisher."
"Semantics, Jareth, is not something I think either of us want to argue about right now. However, I doubt that Toby was jumping for joy when your little minions absconded with him."
"Well, actually…"
"I don't want to hear it. I just want to know why Jareth the Mighty Goblin King who can purportedly move the stars and bend time to his will can't just send me home with a flick of his effeminate wrist!"
"It isn't as easy as all that, or, I assure you, I would not currently be having this conversation with you. I believe you have successfully given me my first migraine."
"Oh, would you just admit that you are not all-powerful so that I can get the hell out of here and find my own way home?"
He blinked at her in disbelief, "You do not seriously intend to go out there on your own, do you?"
"I don't see any other way since you either can't or won't help me."
Jareth pinched the bridge of his nose as if he really were suffering a debilitating headache, "I cannot let you do that."
"Why not?" Her words came out in what was very close to a plaintive wail, much to her embarrassment.
"Sarah, if you leave here without any sort of protection, you are going to die, or wish you had. I can even set you outside of the Labyrinth itself, but that will not help you. Perhaps you do not remember the lands beyond the Gates, but they are rather inhospitable, and you are only a human girl."
"I'll take my chances." Her bravado was not entirely feigned even if it was a bit forced.
"I am not overstating the dangers of the Underground, you foolish chit. When I say you will likely be eaten I do mean that your throat will be ripped out, if you are lucky, before your flesh is devoured and your bones cracked to get at the marrow inside. You were lucky once, but I somehow doubt you will be so fortunate again."
Sarah's face turned a sickly shade of green, and she took quick gulps of her water. Her mind kept replayed a scene from a travel show she had recently watched where the host greedily scooped out the marrow from ox bones remarking on the delicious, creamy texture of the jellied fat. Except that the ox bones were replaced with fresh-looking human ones and the host was replaced by ten or so fat, hairy troll-beasts.
"I… I can see your point. But, Jareth, I can't stay here. I don't belong here," she reasoned softly.
"But Sarah, you do," he gently explained, "You belong to the Labyrinth now. And as I am its King, you really ought not call me by name."
His moderate, consoling tone was what finally convinced her he was serious about her not being able to go home. She looked over at him with wide, vaguely terrified eyes, "So, what am I supposed to do now? Where will I go? How will I live?"
"Fear not. As you are technically now one of my many adoring subjects – yes, adoring, don't roll your eyes if you wish to keep them in your head, girl – I find myself responsible for your well-being."
"Gee, for some reason, I don't find that terribly reassuring."
He continued on as if she had never spoken, "Now, however, the dilemma becomes what to do with you. I can't very well give you to Mother Hulda. You're too old, she won't take you."
"I'm too old for what?" she scowled at him, choosing to see his comment as a slight.
"Too old to give to Mother Hulda," he repeated, a great big Cheshire Cat grin gracing his lips. "So that she might turn you into a goblin."
"Oh," Sarah said, her ire a bit stifled. "Um… you actually do that?"
"I do not. Mother Hulda does," he clarified. "But, as I cannot give you to her, I must find somewhere else to put you. Do you have any talents? Any skills?"
Sarah sat huddled dejectedly on her glorified couch. "I'm an actress."
"Do you sing? Can you play?"
"Yes. I sing. And yes, I play. The piano since I was five and the flute since I was nine. How is that helpful?"
Jareth looked thoughtful for a moment, again studying his hands. "There is a minstrel troupe that passes through my lands from time to time. Perhaps they would have a place for you… Unfortunately, they are not scheduled to return for another six months. We still must find some occupation for you in the interim." He paused, "Can you cook?"
"No," she replied gloomily.
"Clean, then?"
"Of course. Who can't clean?" she snapped. It was something of a sore spot. Sarah had been characterized as rather fastidious in her cleaning regime by her politer friends and colleagues and anal-retentive by the more outspoken.
"Well then, that is settled. I shall present you to Madam Marbo and be done with you," Jareth smiled broadly, evidently relieved that her place in the world was settled. Sarah was not quite so happy – honestly, she was down-right unhappy – but she supposed being a servant was better than being a goblin. There was just one more thing…
"Jareth?" she asked softly.
"You really shouldn't do that, Sarah. From now on it must be Your Majesty or Your Highness."
"Alright, Y-Your Highness," she tried the words on for-size. They did not fit well in her mouth. "I… have a request."
The Goblin King tilted his head, signaling that she should continue.
"My parents… my family and friends… Would you… Could you make them forget about me? Make it like I never existed? …Please?" She didn't want to sound any weaker than she already had, but she couldn't help it. There were so many people she was going to miss, so many people that would likely miss her. She couldn't let them wonder what had happened to her.
He nodded quickly. "It is already done." He rose to his feet and offered her a hand up. "Come. I will deliver you to the servant's wing. But Sarah," he cautioned, "once we leave this room, you will no longer be Sarah Williams, Champion of the Labyrinth. You will be Sarah the Ordinary Castle Servant. You must remember this."
She nodded, unable to form an adequate reply, and took his hand.