Disclaimer: The characters and settings in this story are the property of Jim Henson and are only used for fan related purposes. The title of the story, as well as the lyrics included, are from the Nightwish song, Sleepwalker, and are used to set the tone of the story.
Sleepwalker
Part Seven: A trick or four
Seeing, Believing…
Dreaming, Deceiving…
"Um… yer majesty?"
Jareth didn't pause to spare a glance at the goblin that stood at the foot of his throne; the crystal captured his attention and rightfully so. Still, out of the corner of his darker eye, he could see that the creature was bowing, his nose to the floor, his large, watery eyes turned downward in a sign of respect. The Goblin King had been so involved with his magick recently that all the goblins that served him inside the castle were well aware that it was a grave offense, worthy of being hit by his scepter or being dipped into the Bog of Stench—depending on the generosity of his given mood, of course—to interrupt him in his workings.
Rather, he kept his eyes on the crystal hovering slightly above his open palm, wafting gently, spinning, the reflection never distorting. In it he could see Sarah, his Sarah, as she began to navigate the labyrinth. She had remembered far more that he had expected her to but, he thought endearingly, there was still a hint of the fifteen-year-old girl she was the last time they faced off; while she made it faster into the labyrinth than he thought she would, she had still allowed herself to be waylaid momentarily.
And all it took was a dwarf reminiscent of that idiot, what's-his-name…
With a cheeky grin, he'd been secretly hoping that she might cry out about the fairness of it all, maybe even stamp her foot or pout a bit; she was even more stunning when she pouted. It would've made the deception taste all the sweeter to but she didn't. Rather, she put on a falsely confident front, insisting that she would defeat the intricate (and dangerous) maze.
It was such a pity that, despite her acting skills, Jareth knew her well enough to know her very thoughts. She was angry and defiant and ever so stubborn. One thing she wasn't was all that confident, but her willpower was strong. She would do it, she would best his maze again if only to spite him—which was exactly why he was already pitting his wits against her will.
Besides, he thought, daring a quick peek at the grand clock he conjured up, there was still well over nine hours left. Plenty of time for her to realize just how unfair it all was.
Turning back, he looked at Sarah once more, fixing the image of her gleeful grin as she found the first of many hidden entries among the outer layers, then blew on the crystal. The gentle breath lifted the crystal up and wafted it away, keeping it at eye level, an arm's-length away, never too far from reach.
Jareth pressed the tips of his gloved fingers together as he finally decided it was time to turn his attention to the goblin that was still bowing in front of him. The idiotic creature wasn't moving and, if Jareth didn't know better, he might've thought the goblin had fallen asleep while waiting—except, as their unwilling king, he did know better and, with a loud thwack-ing rap of his scepter against the shining floor tiles, the goblin jerked awake and fell over onto his back.
Since this goblin was just a servant that did Jareth's bidding but wasn't actually part of the Goblin Army, Jareth didn't know why he was wearing the heavy armor but it was quite the sight to watch him roll on his back like an overturned turtle. Jareth kept his expression fixed, hiding a small chuckle tucked in the corner of his wicked grin. "Well?"
The goblin didn't say anything as he struggled to get off of his back, though his grunts were something to behold. Jareth waited with his chin in his hand, watching the goblin try as hard as he might to get back to his feet, before he decided to pity the poor thing. With a not-so-gentle nudge of his leather boot, Jareth flipped the goblin over so that he was lying on his belly. The goblin grunted again, slowly climbed to his feet then started to bow again before thinking better of it. Instead, he sprang up a salute, hitting his metal helmet and not his forehead. The helmet spun, the goblin saw stars and Jareth just rolled his eyes.
This was exactly why he didn't allow goblins in his throne room unless the whims of the runner's forced him to. It was a good thing Sarah's second challenge was already decided—he didn't think he could stand another minute in this imbecile's company. And this goblin was, as per his orders, supposed to be the brightest of the lot, too!
"Well?" Jareth asked again, in case the goblin forgot what he had come to the throne room in the first place for.
The goblin was shaking his hand, trying to shake away the pain from hitting it against the edge of his pointed metal hat. When he caught on that Jareth was waiting for him, his whole body began to shake and he tried to give the Goblin King what he thought was a winning grin. Considering he was missing most of his teeth, it wasn't much. "Yer majesty! How is the king?"
Jareth waved his hand impatiently. There was too much to be done—keeping an eye on Sarah, making sure nothing thwarted his plans, preparing for a wedding—and he couldn't be bothered with exchanging empty pleasantries with a goblin who wore his shirt on the outside of his armor. "Did you all get it done?" he demanded in a soft sort of voice that warned that a very smelly future could be in store for anyone with the incorrect answer.
For a brief moment the goblin looked confused but, before Jareth could start with the same old threats, he grinned broadly. In Jareth's opinion, there wasn't much difference in the expressions. "Well?" he repeated for the third time. There was no denying the impatience underlining his voice.
The goblin, voted the smartest of the castle goblins, was smart enough to know when not to press his luck. He nodded fervently, his metal helmet crashing down on his thick skull every time his head went up but the helmet was still following. "Oh, yes, yer majesty, yes, we did." He lifted a hand with four gnarled fingers on it. With each task the goblins performed, he lowered a finger. "We made sure to hide away the dwarf." One finger. "The big, scary, hairy beast, we put him to sleep with the rocks." Two fingers. "Sir Didymus we locked inside his hut." Three fingers. The goblin glanced down, surprised to see there was still one finger left standing. "With his big hairy dog," he added, then grinned. Four fingers.
Four jobs, four fingers. The goblin nodded again, wincing when the metal helmet smacked into his brow.
Jareth pursed his lips, not entirely happy with the goblin's report. "Was that the only way you could dispose of the knight?" With so much at stake, he couldn't allow Sarah to come across one of her old friends. Not that it would do much, given the magick, but he didn't want her asking too many questions, too soon. Not yet.
This time the goblin was careful not to nod again. "Yes, yer majesty. I know we was supposed to tie him up and put him with the big, scary, hairy beasts with the rocks but the little knight demanded a battle. He gots three of us before we thought just lock the door on the outside. But that's all of them, yer majesty."
"And the coffin?"
The goblin paused, looking down at his folded fist again. With a little effort, he stuck the smallest of the fingers back up. "Oh, yes, yer majesty, we did. The glass box is set up where she can see it but not see it, just like you told us to." Then, with a satisfied bob of his head—and another wince—the goblin lowered the fourth finger again.
He was quite proud of himself, Jareth noted, as well he should be. Goblins rarely got anything right apart from snatching the wished away babes and bringing them back to the castle for him.
"Good," he answered, his lips twisted in a satisfied and cruel grin. And, with that, he reached out and gripped the crystal lightly at the bottom, pulling it out of the air. Without another word, Jareth turned his mismatched gaze back to the crystal once again resting between his fingertips. "Very good…"
The goblin watched as the Goblin King plucked the crystal out of the air and stared at it without blinking. He recognized the look and, despite wearing his helmet, put his hands over his head for protection as he backed out of the throne room. If the king needed him again, he was sure that Jareth would summon him. It was only when he went in the big room with the nice dreams in it that the king ever left the goblins alone.
Not that they minded serving their king. All of the goblins in the Goblin City were willing and eager to answer their king's every call and do all they could to follow his instructions just the way he told them to. After all, the goblins would do anything to get their queen. The king needed his queen, and the goblins needed a happy king.
And, he thought, keeping his hands covering his helmet as he scampered lopsidedly out into the main hallways, a nice and pretty queen wouldn't hit the goblins over their heads and crack their skulls with a scepter.
At least, for the sake of the brain cells they had remaining, they all hoped not.
Sarah was making good time.
So far she'd only heard the gong once, signaling the toll of another hour gone by; there was still a little less than nine hours to go. She'd already made various turns, all the while keeping the looming castle in her vision. It did not seem to appear any closer but, she thought optimistically, it didn't seem to be getting any further either. And, with most of her time still remaining, that was good enough for her.
It was quiet and still inside the labyrinth, and that made her a little iffy. She hadn't come across any other living creatures as she went on, except for the dwarf she met at the gate. Part of her had hoped she might meet up with the jovial little worm that she stumbled upon last time. He had been such a help, sending her on the right path, keeping her from going the wrong way. But she must've already veered off in a different direction since she'd already found a handful of hidden ways, scattered across the labyrinth's beginning.
There was no doubt that she was alone. It was quiet, but it wasn't the quiet of a labyrinth full of creatures trying to keep out of her way. No, it was the quiet of emptiness, of loneliness. The sound of her feverish footsteps was the only sounds surrounding her, echoing in the narrow ways, squeaking when she made a quick stop and an even quicker turn. After awhile she got used to it, that and the thump of her heart as she anticipated a trick, waiting for the gong to ring again.
Sarah had made quick works of the long, endless straits she first found herself in. Now, she was power-walking through short hallways, parallel and perpendicular lines all about her. It was easy to get lost. She didn't even have a tube of burnt umber lipstick on her this time—not, she reminded herself, that stage make-up had been that helpful the last go-around, with cheaters changing my marks on me.
She didn't even try to find a way to mark her path. There was no point to. If there was one thing she remembered, it was that the labyrinth cheated. And not even just the inhabitants of the Underground, either. The actual maze itself cheated all the time, making it as hard as possible on the challenger. Sarah would go one way and, if she turned back to recant the decision of the direction, the labyrinth would've already changed behind her.
Sarah wasn't falling for it this time.
Her head held high, her eyes wide and alert and waiting for any trick, no matter how small and insignificant, Sarah kept moving forward. She couldn't help but wonder why she was still alone, why the labyrinth was so deathly quiet—
—why the Goblin King hadn't made an appearance yet?
Sarah tried to banish the intrusive thought but, once she thought it, there was no taking it back. She had to admit, it was strange. How many times had he popped up for a small chat, a tiny gloat the last time she was there? With so much on the line now, it was a little weird that he was letting her have free reign of the labyrinth.
Unless—
"Oh, great," Sarah mumbled to herself—she found it soothing, and not as crazy as others might to have herself as a good traveling companions—as she started down one particularly long path. "I haven't been here for more than an hour yet and my imagination already ran away to join the circus. Or, wait… maybe I'm just being paranoid? That's it," she said, snapping her fingers. The sound echoes down the narrow strait. Sarah ignored it. "Jareth has to be watching me," she said condescendingly, trying to talk herself into believing that the Goblin King didn't want anything more to do with her than just proving that she wasn't anywhere near as strong than he was.
Because, she thought, purposely thinking of anything and everything but tight leather pants and hungry eyes, why else is he doing all this?
"Let's see," she said in a rush, drowning out her own thoughts. She bet down low to lift a rock up from the dirt floor—the grass that surrounding the outside of the labyrinth had given way to a dusty ground once she left the first few narrow straits. She made a great display of checking underneath it. "Look at that: Jareth isn't there." Sarah let the rock drop, a cloud of dust rising as it fell.
There, on her right, was a considerable-sized hole in the rocky wall. She peeked inside. "Nope. He's not staring at me from inside here, either."
As crazy as her little game sounded and—if Jareth was watching—made her look, it did make her feel a bit better. It was going to be hard enough to beat the labyrinth with such a handicap—scoffing away those three hours had been a huge mistake, she knew—but Sarah didn't want to dwell on the seriousness of the situation. Who knew? Maybe the challenge wouldn't seem like such a challenge if she had fun while trying to beat it.
At least she was smiling now. Though she had wanted to conserve her energy for later in the ten hour time limit, Sarah found herself almost running forward. It was silly to assume that the Goblin King had nothing better to do than watch her. He had a kingdom to run, children to steal, dreams to invent… girls to chase—
Sarah nipped that thought in the bud, choosing another. I might as well have some fun while I can. I can get more worried in a couple of hours. Besides, I think that the castle is getting closer, Sarah decided, whether that was true or not. It felt a little nice not to worry right then. Goodness knows there would be plenty of time for that later.
There was a turn coming up before her: right or left. She slowed her jog, her arms swinging aimlessly at her side. Feeling a giddiness that had nothing to do with her promise to put her worries on hold—if she worried for the entire ten hours (and lost), she would be a goblin with an ulcer—Sarah headed to her left. Riding her sudden high, she was prepared to kid to herself that Jareth wasn't waiting for her at her next turn but, just as she turned, she stopped dead in her tracks.
Jareth wasn't waiting for her inside the turn.
A large glass coffin was.
The smile was gone, followed shortly by whatever happiness had held on. They were quickly replaced by a morbid sense of curiosity—it was a coffin, after all—and fear. Simple fear. She wanted to approach it, wanted to peek inside of it and get a look at the body that was encased inside, but found she couldn't. Magick or terror, something kept her from moving. Her legs just wouldn't work.
There was no denying it was a coffin, a great glass box with a brass trim along the bottom. And why was it glass? Well, that was simple. How else was she supposed to see the whole of the body resting inside? Long dark hair, a flowy white gown that hung down the sides… Sarah gulped, felt her stomach drop and, with every ounce of strength she had, managed to tear her eyes away from the sight. She looked past it instead, and couldn't stop the wry frown when she noticed that the length of the coffin was tucked neatly within a dead end.
She had to get away from it. The coffin made her nervous and the fact that there was no reason to go by it just made her glad to keep her distance. Sarah was just about to turn her back on it and find any other way to Jareth's castle when, out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of something beyond the coffin, just a little bit higher.
Directly above the coffin, five words were inexpertly carved into the rocks. The letters were blocky and crude but she could still read the creepy, fearsome epitaph:
Here lie Sarah Williams' dreams.
End Note: Here's the next chapter. I thought it was time that we did a little checking in on our favorite monarch. He is holding nothing back this time around (as you will see by the end of the chapter). It's a little sketchy but the main parts that I wanted to get across should shine through. Also, a bunch of this chapter shall answer questions – while, at the same time, answering some. I hope you all enjoy!
eta: Now that NaNoWriMo is over, I'm back to the edit/re-writing process for Sleepwalker. Here we go!
- stress, 12.01.10
