Chapter 7: Trapped and Waiting
Jareth held Sarah's sleeping form close to him, bemused once again at how easily she succumbed to his demands that she be blindfolded. She knew of the curse of course, but even he would run out of patience for it and would most likely rip the damn blindfold to pieces were it his burden. His thoughts were a clumped mushy disarray, noting made sense and everything was clear and his thoughts turned from understandable to nonsensical within a moment of being conceived. It was all quite frustrating. He could not determine what fatigued his mind so, he had never been so conflicted by anything so human. Sarah noticed his change in mood almost before he did and was quick to be the strange sweet child she so rarely was, in comparison to the rather snarky young woman she could be with a mind all her own. Her kindness was unspoken, an attention to him that no one had ever gifted him with before. He could enter a room, call her with no reason, even think of her and she would appear, happy it seemed to curl up on his lap like a little kitten in need of love and without a question love him. He still couldn't get over that, her love for him. She respected him and his word but could laugh at him like he was a court jester. And in all fairness, fair as he hardly was, he enjoyed making her laugh, her laugh was a delight to hear, the sight of her smile alone able to clear his mind.
A few weeks passed with no worry, other then his ailing train of thought Jareth had the feeling that this was happiness. Having Sarah with him, enjoying the company of her many eccentric companions and just being able to smile. Even the goblins of the castle noticed the changes in him; he was singing again, better then he had in a very long time and dancing. Sarah was a frequent partner of his, and many small parties were held in the castle. Dancing and music became a staple in the castle, the crew of the Emerald Queen seemed to have no complaints of this unspoken testament.
Then upon the evening of Sarah's Labyrinth-Anniversary Jareth felt a great wave of agony ripple through his body, starting in his skull and ending in his knees. He had collapsed alone in the library, not unconscious but very near paralysis. He sighed against the rug, a reaction to the pain being lifted from his body. But just as he found in him the strength to move another wave of searing pain ran through him. This time he cried out and a passing goblin saw the king and rushed to inform the Lady Sarah. She found him and cried out. Many of her crew members came at her cries and helped her carry him back to his chambers. She had never been there before but had not marveled at its splendor or basked in the soft glow of the many lightened crystals that adorned his ceiling, she had shooed the crew away and cared for Jareth on her own. With the simple magic tricks she had learned over the years she summoned up all the foods and drinks and anything he may have needed. The pains had stopped and only the shiver of what they left behind remained, as if foreshadowing the pain would come again.
Sarah massaged his limbs and neck and even turned him over to rub the tense muscles in his back loose, a job that was not as difficult as it she had expected. At her touch he instantly relaxed, gave up to the sensation of her touch and drifted into a light dose. When he had awoken she was stretched out over his back her cheek on his shoulder blade, her arms around his chest. She was a warm solid form against him, but he soon turned over to hold her in his arms while she slept. She had, in all habit done all her massaging and conjuring with a blindfold. Sometimes, he thought, she was just too sweet a child for him.
Scar was running, each breath he took in stinging inside, every step was agony and fear. But still the Darkness grew closer. He felt its heat nipping his cloak and hair. He took the chance to jump toward a rushing river and landed cold and heavy from the water and his attempts to drag himself free of his mistake cost him his life as the Darkness swallowed him.
To his surprise he felt no pain, only the sudden weight of cold sinking into him from all around. He was sure where his skin was exposed it was turning blue and one squinting glance through the fog the color of raven's wings at his hands he confirmed it. From the swirling mass of destruction around him a scent filled the air. It was sweet, musky almost, and Scar soon recognized it was the way Sarah smelled after she'd taken a long warm bath and had sweat herself sleepy. He raised his head, he half expected her to appear but he was shocked to his knees when standing before him was indeed Sarah. Or at least a very strange copy of Sarah. She was dressed in a huge flowing white ball gown, her hair was pulled up with silver ornaments and she was smiling with teeth much too sharp to be hers. There was an inhuman quality to her, unlike Fae, who wore inhumanity with beauty and grace, this Sarah was much different. She had skin that was slightly blue, like his and her face hit all the wrong shadows and lights and she was such a horrifying beauty that Scar feared death if he drew eyes from her.
Jareth opened his eyes again, set before him in this dream he saw two figures. One was small built, with flowing dark hair and a huge white dress that sparkled. The other was a big man, but slender in the shape of the elves. His face was shadowed by a curtain of black hair. His clothes were dirty. Jareth tried to move toward them across the blank black field but he was trapped, watching them. The girl, Sarah he could now recognize, but an uglier darker version of her, slapped Scar, for indeed the man was Scar. She left bloody tracks from her nails across his face, which was already turning a deep blue. The elf-man did not cry out, instead he turned his face back to watch her with imploring eyes. Suddenly Sarah-double froze and raised her nose slightly like she smelled something. Her head spun slowly toward where Jareth stood and he felt rivers of ice suddenly sweep through him at the sight of her eyes, glassy green like very dull jade, faded into nothing but the reflection of what her eyes truly were. He stepped backward, but found that this step away from her suddenly brought him closer to her then he had intended. He was drawn closer to her with every step backwards he took. When all at once she was close enough to clutch the front of his shirt in her clawed hands he realized his fatal mistake.
She whispered, echoing his thoughts. "Sometimes, the way forward is sometimes the way back." She giggled and leaning up to kiss him, hard and with teeth that cut his lips and tongue without so much her needing to bite down, they were so sharp. She drew back, her lips wet with his blood, the red of it bright against her corpse-blue skin. "And sometimes the way backward brings you forward."
Her hysterical laughter echoed from invisible boundaries and she smiled darkly. It was not the first time he'd met this dark Sarah, but he had prayed
Sarah had been awake for a while. Jareth had fallen asleep with his mask on and she was grateful for the courtesy. She hated the blindfold. Stepping around the bedroom on quite feet she cleared up a mess she'd made earlier during a battle with Scoot for possession of her blindfold. She'd knocked over a bottle of ink and the carpet was black with it. Luckily, Jareth did not mention it, though she was not sure if he'd noticed or not, for she had thrown a gown over it, half of the stain was still exposed. She did not want to touch his temper and waited till he was deep asleep before sneaking to clean it up. Diligence had not been practiced on the Emerald Queen when it came to cleaning, but Sarah was rather gifted in making stains vanish with a little bit of magic. She was never sure where the stains went exactly, but as long as they were gone from this article of clothing or that sail she didn't care. The ink stain was a quick fix, but it drained her greatly for a moment and she curled up in the chair by the desk, waiting for the energy to walk to the bed.
On the desk in front of her was a mess of papers and pens, she moved to move some aside when she came across a little bound book, leather by the smell and texture and fat with papers thick with paint. She opened the book to the first page and gasped. Depicted in a mingling of colors and patterns of the most talented painter was the image of the great maze, the Labyrinth. She flipped through some more pages and the images were very near the same. But then she noticed there was an abrupt change in them, they moved from scenery of Underground and sketches of the citizens to one subject: a young girl. She had huge green eyes in all the pictures, long dark hair which style changed with every depiction, and she bore a very near perfect resemblance of Sarah. The rest of the book contained those pictures and the last completed painting showed her asleep, laying on her side, the blindfold she must have fallen asleep in half off her face, exposing one lightly closed eyelid. Sarah felt a smile crack open her face and she turned to Jareth who was beginning to moan in his sleep, a sign that he may soon wake. But when she saw him she recognized the nightmare. Dashing the book to the desk she ran across the room to his side and called his name.
"Jareth!" She said. "Please wake up! I'm here you're alright." She held him down tightly as he thrashed from side to side, but to no avail and soon she had to jump back to save herself from being smacked. All of the sudden he stilled and his eyes opened and she could see them wide around the shell of the mask.
He whispered quietly. "Darkness." And vanished into thin air.
Sarah's scream was heard throughout the castle, but when her crew mates found her she was on the bed, kneeling, the mask he'd been wearing in her hands. When after much coaxing she finally spoke all the men could understand was: Darkness. Whatever had happened the culprit had been named.
