Disclaimer: Labyrinth is not mine.
A/N: Thanks to all my reviewers, notwritten, Nyakai, Cybernetic Mango, RunLyllithRun, hazlgrnLizzy, and a special thanks to queenie who pointed out a plot confusion. Two lines detailing the rules of The Game have been changed in chapter 6. It may be worth a look.
A/N 2: I've raised the rating to M due to some minor dream lemons here, and for later chapters. Not sure I needed to, but better safe than sorry.
Enjoy!
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Chapter 10: Cottage of Greed
Sarah Williams knew she was dreaming The Dream. The beginning was always the same.
She was in a rich ballroom of faceless dancers and jeweled silks. Candelabras bathed the room in an unnaturally warm glow.
She had been here so many times, swayed through the nameless mass until the dark shadows came and enveloped the magic. And yet, dream Sarah couldn't shake the feeling that something was different.
The dancers spun through the hall in their usual blissful ignorance, unaware of the timely tragedy which always befell them. Anytime now, thought dream Sarah fearfully. Soon, those shadows will come.
But the otherworldly beings danced on as a chord struck eleven times. Never had the mass lasted this long.
Deeply relieved, she shifted her sight from the brass clock to the crowd. Almost instantly, she was gripped by an inexplicable urge to find someone.
She sought; winding her way through the sea of fabric. Someone. She had to find someone. Her lungs clenched in desperation. She needed someone. Sarah let her instincts guide her.
Tittering laughs echoed around her as she pushed and weaved through the crowd. Everyone was watching. Sarah didn't care; her heart kept pounding with need for this unknown being.
A flash of pale gold in front quickened Sarah's pulse. She was becoming sick with anticipation.
There. There he was.
Sarah's stomach jumped towards her throat, twisting into warm knots. She stopped pushing through the crowd; looking down to calm her churning insides. But the sight of his toned calves prowling closer was making her weak. Making her breathless.
She greedily gasped for air but the shimmering corset of her gown was fighting her attempt at steady breathing.
Two quick intakes.
He was still coming closer, black leather boots placed deliberately one in front of the other.
Three quick breaths.
Higher still her eyes rose; midnight breeches painted onto defined legs, white silk poet shirt underneath a crimson jeweled jacket, and the space in between…Sarah's heart was pressing uncomfortably into her chest..
He was here.
She was near faint, spellbound by the candlelit temptation not five feet before her. Thin lips, mesmerizing eyes in cool and warm tones, shimmering alabaster skin and that untamed, golden hair. The cold angles of his face captured the amber light like moths to a flame, unable to resist the sight. He was physically comparable to the men from her world, but too wild to be one.
He was beautiful.
Dream Sarah had yet to register why she knew this figure. It didn't matter.
She reached for the shining enticement, her rosy lips parted and eyes clouded by dark desire. She wanted him, quivering with need as she leaned for his touch. She was close enough to drink in his spicy scent, a mix of musk and sandalwood.
He was intoxicating.
Something like recognition clicked as she reached to pull his face closer, to feel those pliable lips caress her own, to have him whisper back against her throat. Sarah was on fire, skin burning under his flaming eyes.
'Jareth…'
An unexpected burning itch on her wrist roused Sarah with a start, her hand outstretched in the air. Her whole body was shaking with anticipation; with a need unquenched. She straightened, startled and confused, as her heart stampeded inside her.
"W-hat the hell" Sarah yelled at the empty Labyrinth. "I repeat, just what the hell was that?!"
No response.
Sarah was beyond perturbed. She was terrified. She'd dreamt about the Labyrinth before—indeed recently it was an almost nightly occurrence—but this had been different. Very different. She was accustomed to breaking out of the dark dance in search of the winding paths of the Labyrinth, not to seeking out a face at the ball. And not just any face. His face. It was hard to decide which nightmarish scenario was worse.
Thank God HE hadn't been in my head at the time. I'd have never lived this down.
It just had to be her recent encounters with the Goblin King, she reasoned. She hadn't seen him for five years and now here he was, interfering with her life again. All his ministrations, subconscious conversations included, must have cracked her sanity. She knew he had definitely spelled her with cider… It has to be that. Please let it be that.
Sarah's mind riled against the alternative. The idea that she actually desired the bastard was preposterous. Subconscious desires included. He was the villain! He stole children for a living! He was conniving, cruel, arrogant, showy…beautiful. Sarah balked.
And she hadn't even seen him for five years! A lot can happen in five years, Sarah's traitorous mind whispered back. Sarah frowned, trying to tune out the voice. I don't need this right now.
A second burning itch on her wrist reminded the girl of what had woken her, and she turned the partitioned watch towards her face nervously. She didn't think it could get much worse, but fate was currently laughing in her face. Who knew what was next.
The watch had changed. Where there had once been eleven gleaming colors, she now found eight. Three angry black streaks covered the sections where three, four, and ten o'clock would have rested.
The lightest emerald shade, the wine, and the darker orange…
Had they given up? Been disqualified? Left The Game?
…Died?
The brunette shook her head angrily, not wanting to believe such a dreadful proposal. But something in her knew it to be true. This Game, sick as it was, was slowly making sense. Twelve competitors, one victor. Twelve went in, one came out. The rest were damned somewhere in between. Sarah wrapped her arms protectively around her middle.
Her emotions had leapt across the board in the past day. Nervous. Frightened. Angry. Frustrated. Proud. Empty. Her head was throbbing, and she sank back to the ground. Something cut into her leg, and she shifted, intent on throwing the offending object as far as she could muster. She reached down and her hand closed around the liquid filled vial she had taken from her holding room. In her dream, she had pushed it halfway out of her pouch.
As if kissed by moonlight, the potion glistened within glass. Sarah fingered the container thoughtfully, debating whether to smash the vial against the wall, or brave a sip. As satisfying as the sound of breaking glass would have been, she was still parched, left unsatisfied by the stream and her ballroom nightmare. She prayed this was one of the aforementioned 'useful' items Eran had hinted at.
She chucked her whirring head back and gulped.
The effect was immediate. The throbbing in her head, heart and limbs vanished, only to be replaced by a soothing caress. As she swallowed, her throat was coated in the cool liquid, calming her thirst and massaging her vocal chords. Sarah moaned in relief. The drink, whatever it was, had worked like the magic it probably was.
Head and heart calmed, the girl considered her position. She was one of nine left. One of nine in a maze of horror and temptation. One of nine fighting demons and who-knows-what-else to stay alive. Dancing in magic.
The thought jarred her memory to the oasis. She had done something unnatural, she was sure of it. Golden light just doesn't shoot from normal human hands. Not sober humans at least.
But what had she done? And how?
It had seemed like magic. Sarah scoffed at the thought. But that was impossible. She didn't have magic. She was just…Sarah, part-time procrastinating college student, part-time actress, and one-time otherworldly champion. Those hours couldn't have given her paranormal abilities, right? Right. Absolutely, positively no way, no how.
Sarah was only half-convinced. Something had happened, and it looked as magical as it got. One minute she was relaxing in that oasis, then His Royal Arrogance himself starts echoing insults through her head and then 'poof'; her own demon cleaning wave shoots from her hands.
It just didn't make sense. What was she missing? Sarah growled in anger, giving in to the childish urge to pound her fist into the dirt. As she did so, the bottom of her palm shot off a glowing spark.
"Oh!" Her eyebrows rose to her hairline.
Without considering the consequences, the girl slammed her other hand down with equal hostility, anxious to see if a similar glow appeared. It did.
Anger causes magical sparks?
After repeating the action with both fists, she was convinced she was onto something. The angrier she became, the brighter the light she shot off. It still didn't explain the oasis however. She'd been angry at having that bastard taunt her in her mind, but was really more frightened of the reflection. That was the emotion she remembered swimming in.
Perhaps all strong emotions triggered the magic. That could only explain it. She'd already conceded that her emotions had been all over the place since she got here. She chalked it up to her acting training; being able to switch extreme feelings at the drop of a hat.
That was one of the reasons this development concerned her.
She had almost accepted the idea that for some odd reason, she was able to do bits of magic. But since she knew she hadn't sent electric sparks at an audience in her world, the ability must be tied the Underground. Her hours in the Labyrinth had done something unnatural to her after all, and coming back to the same world had awakened the gift.
She sighed. It was a lot to take in.
Rising, Sarah slung her bag over her shoulder. She'd dawdled enough as it was. If she was going to win this Game—and stay alive—she had to keep going. At least now she had a little defense. She'd figure out how to use it to her advantage if she needed to. She prided herself on being resourceful.
When the oasis had vanished, a new path had opened in its place. Something was tacked on the side closest to her and she moved to get a better look.
It was a sign. Made of material that looked and felt like animal hide, the piece had been scrawled upon in dark ebony ink.
Pride cometh before all days, the soul's truest test.
Take the warning you have seen, apply it to the rest.
One down and six to go, the seven sins in line.
Travel downwards for if you do, rivals will you find.
Six to go. Six? Sarah wasn't sure she could handle three let alone six challenges of the oasis' nature. She had completely finished the vial of healing mead. Considering this, she probably should have rationed a sip at most.
And rivals. So, she wouldn't be alone the entire time after all. She wasn't sure 'safety in numbers' applied in a situation where the goal was to outlast the competitors, but after learning of her new talent, she didn't trust herself to be alone right now. She'd even take Jareth over solitude at this point.
How fortunate that I am feeling magnanimous at the moment.
You certainly enjoy butting into my thoughts, don't you?
Only when I'm invited, my dear. She could feel him grinning in her mind.
Oh, really? She thought sarcastically, starting down the labeled path. Then I've got a few more questions for you while you're listening. Where you aware that I can do sporadic bits of magic?
Ah, that. Forgive me; I must have forgotten to mention it earlier.
Must have forgotten? Why you—
Careful now Sarah. You wouldn't want to get too angry. Who knows what damage you could do now that you are aware of the ability.
You knew the trigger, didn't you? You started this. It was more an accusation than a question.
Believe what you must.
But why? Why bother at all?
The proceeding pause was so long, Sarah doubted he'd reply at all. She tried again.
You don't even care—
Do not presume that I would let anyone attempt this Game unprotected. I may be cruel, but not that much so. I do not enjoy watching respectable beings destroyed in my realm—in my own Labyrinth— no matter what you may think.
Sarah gulped. She didn't have a response to that. Again, he'd made her feel the size of an ant. How was it that whenever she thought she had the upper hand, he went and turned the world upside down?
If you are quite finished accusing me, I'll be so kind as to give you a piece of advice. I know you have two crystals. Now that you've unlocked your magic, they should respond to your touch. In a pinch, center your emotion into one. It should focus your young magic.
Use them wisely.
Sarah felt his presence slip sharply from her mind and she yelled at the air. "Hey! Wait! I don't know how to do that!" But he was already gone. She frowned. "Great, just great".
During her conversation—if one could call it that—she had failed to realize that she'd walked a great distance down the rocky path and had come to a large, vine covered gate. It was the first sign of life since the oasis, and the only one which wasn't enchanted.
She didn't think it was at least.
Pushing open the heavy gate with a creak, she stumbled into the opening and fell onto something small and warm.
"Oh! Excuse me!" Sarah's manners instinctively kicked in.
The warm body looked up and managed a half-smile. "It's alright, I'm perfectly fine. I think we are supposed to gather as it was".
Sarah stepped back to a comfortable distance to speak with the girl. The warm body had been a competitor; the tiny Elvin girl from Preliminaries. Her long blond hair had been spelled back in a braid, but other than that, she appeared untouched. Sarah looked down at herself. She was a mess.
"Oh, yeah, right. Something about rivals lying ahead and whatnot". Sarah offered, following as the girl continued on. "Hey, what's your name by the way?"
"Rosalyn".
"Nice to meet you, even in unfortunate circumstances. I'm Sarah".
"I know". The voice was self-assured.
"What? How?" Sarah stopped in her tracks.
"Everybody knows who you are. You kept us all waiting. Nearly took the Underground with you too". Rosalyn pulled farther ahead, and turned back. "Are you coming or are we going to have to wait for you again?"
Sarah hurried.
The pair soon came to a rounded building, a dome of stones and shells, lying alone in the maze. A smattering of open windows and a sap covered door completed the facade. It was the first time the brunette had seen a structure that resembled a dwelling Underground. Castles and towers just didn't count as 'homey' in Sarah's book. The pair pushed open the door.
The inside was something like a fairytale cottage. It was astoundingly bright, but an old fashioned fireplace simmered in the back as half-burnt candles glowed unnecessarily in other corners. Tattered, dusty throws covered four low, brown couches all surrounding a concentric woven rug. The cottage was warm and inviting; an unexpected change from the Labyrinth, but just as beckoning as the oasis.
Six figures were already seated on three of the couches and were watching the newcomers casually.
"You made it after all. Never thought you would, mortal that you are". The pitchy voice harrumphed. "But you had to rope in the Elf to help I see". Melina verbally abused both entrants.
Rosalyn ignored the derogatory comment, and sat herself on an open seat. Sarah gave the rude woman in plum her best glare and joined the Elvin girl, mumbling obscene words under her breath. Nobody spoke.
Some ten minutes later, the gangly boy in cobalt blue made his way into the room, and moved towards the fireplace. He looked a great deal worse for wear. Sarah wondered what task he'd just come from.
After he shut the door, it melted seamlessly into the wall, effectively trapping the occupants inside. One by one, the open windows shrank until the room was left to bathe in the weak candlelight and solitary fireplace. The instantaneous change was remarkable. Sarah was concerned; it reminded her a great deal of the experience in the oubliette.
There was a shift in the air. The carpet started glowing, and spiky letters emerged in two straight lines.
Seven competitors for the seven sins, two will never leave this night.
Although free to choose your own fate, with words and wisdom will you fight.
Sarah didn't get much farther than 'two will never leave this night' before she sprang to her feet in alarm. The homey cottage was a trap, then. It figured. It was an alluring break in the sandy chaos. She groaned, knowing that really nothing ever was what it seemed.
And now they had to decide amongst themselves who went on? Sarah confirmed The Game's insanity.
"Well, I for one am leaving this place". Melina sniffed haughtily. "The rest of you decide to leave whoever you will, but I vote the mortal and her playmate".
Her pronouncement began a chorus of claims, each more boisterous than the last. Sarah just listened to the ruckus. Her brain wasn't functioning well enough to do anything else.
Having a certain Goblin King stuck in her thoughts wasn't helping either.
The being directly across from her, wearing what looked like an orange tunic, pressed that he was the only heir left in his entire kingdom now that his sister had been lost. It would only be right to save his place.
She must have been the darker orange partition.
Similarly, the two figures to Sarah's left, shaking curls back and forth, argued that they came from the oldest bloodline in the Underground; all the way back to Lord Orion himself. Allowing the end of first bloodline would be, by their accounts, 'the greatest travesty of all'. Sarah scoffed at the claim. Your family relationships only got you so far; her mother Linda was proof.
Melina was still yelling nonsense as the final couple on the couch, apart from Rosalyn and herself, boasted that they were powerful enough to banish the remainder of the contenders to someplace called 'Ceden', if they so chose, and warned the rest not to trifle with them. In their eyes, the test to leave should be based on raw magic, not numbers or bloodlines.
The lanky boy and Rosalyn still hadn't said anything, but if the Elvin girl was any comparison, each possessed a contemplative stare.
Why weren't they arguing their case?
There had to be more to this challenge than just professing the need to leave. Nobody was thinking about the bigger picture, or of anything but themselves. Didn't they care two in this room would be dead soon? Why couldn't they rationalize this together? All Sarah saw was personal greed.
One down and six to go…Seven competitors for seven sins…
Greed was one of the seven sins, mused Sarah. So was pride. That could explain the oasis, and the line of the first riddle. That must be it, decided the girl. The Labyrinth was morphing the seven deadly sins into challenges to test the competitors. Sarah eyed her companions, wondering if anyone else had made the connection.
Since Rosalyn and the cobalt boy were still silent, she assumed they had some clue that this wasn't what it seemed. But how much they knew, she could only guess.
An idea was churning in Sarah's head. In order to break the spell in the 'pride oasis', as she now considered it, she had to stop giving in to the urge to boast. She had needed to stop admiring herself and back away to look at the bigger picture. Only then, and with a little magic, did she escape the enchantment. She needed to apply the same lesson here.
"I'll stay". Her voice was clearer than she expected it to be. She still wasn't sure this would work at all.
She could feel eight pairs of eyes on her in an instant, and she stood to gather her courage.
"I'll stay here while you go". That was as opposite of greedy as Sarah could think of at the moment; sacrificial offering.
"So will I". A light voice to her side jumped in. Rosalyn, thought Sarah nervously. Now I really hope this was the right choice.
Nobody in the room argued the decisions. Indeed, in the dark Melina looked as happy as a cat drinking cream. It had been her suggestion in the first place.
"Excellent. I knew you both would realize your inferiority". She sniffed again and rose, speaking to the walls of the cottage. "I believe we are done here. The mortal and her pet are staying beyond. You can let the rest of us out now".
On cue, the sap crusted door shimmered into existence. Sarah noticed absently that it had moved to a different spot on the wall.
All at once, the competitors rushed to the door. The couple in yellow, who had been seated on the closest couch, threw open the door first and hurried out. They were followed by Melina, the orange clad man, the springy haired siblings, and somewhat reluctantly, the boy in cobalt blue. He turned back before shutting the door.
"I'll see you both later in The Game". He winked.
So he had figured it out as well, grinned Sarah. She liked him already.
As soon as the door was shut, Sarah's ears shook with a piercing scream. Wild and pained, it sounded as if the intermingled high and low voices were being strangled. Back and forth they tore through her eardrums. It wasn't a normal screech; this was deathly, as if devils were singing praises. And then as suddenly as it started, it was over.
The lights were bright once again in the room, and Sarah looked at her companion questioningly. Seeing her nod hard once, Sarah confirmed that two competitors outside had fallen. If she had to guess The Game's will, it would have been the first two out the door; the couple in yellow. Sarah's watch wrist burned.
Her guess was correct, then.
With a defined 'pop', another door materialized adjacent to the fireplace. Rosalyn moved to open it first and waited for Sarah to join her.
She smirked as they walked out together. "You may be wiser than you look".
Sarah didn't care that it was barely a compliment. She was just glad to be getting out of the creepy cottage.
Two down, five to go.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------