"I'm not the Summer Queen," Sarah tells the darkness ahead of her. The little cave is becoming almost unbearably hot and her half-frozen hair is now dripping all over the leaf-littered floor. It smells of leaf rot and mold and she tries to keep her mouth closed when she breathes. She can't see properly through the dark, but she thinks that there is something moving from the back of the cave. She hears something like a sigh and another blast of hot air hits her.
"I never have been," she tells this thing in front of her to continue talking, still squinting into the gloom in the back of the cave.
"Do not presume to tell me something, girl. I am older than you currently are in the form and I evidently know far more than you do." Whatever it is, it hisses some letters out as if its voice was not fit for human speech.
"Okay," Sarah breathes out, trying to placate whatever is speaking. "I won't. Can you tell me who she is, though? Nobody is explaining anything to me, nobody." She stands where she is, clenching her fists and curling her toes in her slowly drying boots. It is a long time before the creature answers, let alone breathes. Relief floods through her when she hears it sigh again; she thought it had managed to somehow drop dead while it was formulating an answer.
There is the sound of rustling leaves from the back of the cave and Sarah can see that whatever it is, it's moving again, but this time it's moving towards her. Slowly, it comes into the dim light of the cave mouth.
Whatever it is, it looks like some sort of giant, slimy, deformed lizard. It has a flat head and wide eyes set far apart, with strange red and gold markings around its eyes and trailing down its back. Little, bent legs end in little stubbed toes and there are weird appendages that look like fins at the edge of its head where Sarah would have placed ears, and around where she would have defined shoulder blades. They're at the end of the tail that swings lazily back and forth too.
She had half been expecting a dragon, but this was no dragon she would have ever thought of.
"The Summer Queen was lost, very long ago, even by my standards," it tells her mournfully. "And with her, the summer."
"But you can't lose summer," protests Sarah, frowning at the thing's word choice. He made it sound as if the summer had simply been misplaced; sat down somewhere and forgotten. "It's a whole season—without it, the earth would… I don't know. Wither. Winter wouldn't end, nothing would grow…"
"And those depending on it would die," the creature continued for her, nodding in its strange way. "And I have needed it ever so badly, Queenling."
Sarah remains silent and the creature shuffles forward. While it speaks, she thinks that she can catch a glimpse of fangs.
"And magic is much like the seasons. Once it is out of balance, it will fade. The summer—heat, vitality, the very breath that keeps the earth alive—disappeared once day, many, many years ago, taken by the queen entrusted with it."
"I'm sorry about that, but—"
"And the world was thrown out of balance. Winter took over, as it is wont to do. Though its king fought its progress, it was not enough—without his queen, he was not strong enough."
"But what does that have to do with me?" She continues, inclining her head slightly to let the beast know that she had listened to its words.
"You have that magic. I can smell it on you," the creature tells her, slithering forward while Sarah tries to stand her ground. It looks her up and down, visibly confused. "But you still look so human."
"That's because I am human," she tells it as if boasting. "Completely human. One hundred percent human, in fact."
If the beast could frown, it certainly would be doing so, Sarah thinks.
"But you're not," it whines. "You've gone too far, you've been here too long. You've promised too much, already."
"I've only been here…" Sarah frowns and thinks, "two and a half days. I don't think I've gotten far. And I haven't promised anybody anything." She only realizes that her last statement is a lie after it leaves her lips, but that promise to Grod has not brought her too much harm. After all, she escaped the fuaths and the Revel, though she had lost the little goblin she was sure she'd find him again eventually.
She hopes that the creature staring at her with lyard brown eyes can't tell if she is lying or not, like some sort of living lie detector because she doesn't want to know what its reaction will be if it can. It was only a little lie, a small white one because she had forgotten about that itsy bitsy little promise herself, and so much had happened since then that it wasn't exactly at the front of her mind.
"You know so little," it spits out at her, eyes narrowing, pinning her in her spot in the cave surer than any physical binds would have. Sarah frowns, disgruntled with everybody's apparent disgust for her.
"Maybe if somebody would finally explain something to me for once, I wouldn't know so little!" She snaps, voice raising as she goes. "And instead of snarling at me, maybe you could help me out instead of going on and on about this stupid queen of yours!"
It stares at her, seeming to be stuck somewhere between shock, amusement, and anger. Somewhere inside, her stomach drops as she hears her own words.
"The heat—the life—of the labyrinth has returned since you have been here, little queen," it says slowly.
She bites her lips to keep herself from correcting the beast.
"Why are you here?"
"I'm here to save my brother," she answers immediately, glad to be able to speak. "And the rest of the children that the Goblin King has taken."
The beast chuckles. "You call him Goblin King? Never mind that," it amends when it sees her opening her mouth to reply. "Tell me, what will you do once you reclaim these children?"
"I'll go back to my home, where things make sense most of the time," she tells him confidently.
"And that," rumbles the monster, "is what I cannot allow."
Before she can step away, or so much as breathe, the not-dragon slithers forward, gnashing its many sharp teeth and hissing. What looks like sparks jump off of its back from the red and gold markings.
"What do you—"
It lunges at her and she leaps to the side—the beast's head crashes into the wall and she does her best to sprint out of the cave, but heavy, still soaking boots and winter clothing slows her down.
She can feel the heat emanating from the beast's skin just behind her and sparks land on the stone and snow all around her. They sizzle as they land, sending tiny jets of steam up into the air.
Sarah shouts for help, not truly believing that anybody would be around to hear her, and resigning herself to the fact that if she did not get away quickly, she'd most likely reduced to cinders.
Darting behind one of the many boulder scattered around—now she thinks that maybe the beast itself has done it, because they're all more than a little charred—she hopes that maybe, just maybe, the cold will eventually become too much for it and it would go back to its toasty abode.
She can hear it moving around to the left of her and she peeks around the boulder as quickly as she can. Seeing that it is looking for her among a pile of downed branches, she crawls over to a new hiding place, trying to be as silent as possible. Her breathing seems harsh to her in the cold air and aside from the angry noises that the creature makes while it is looking for her, the forest is silent.
Internally, she curses herself. She should have taken that as her first clue that something had been wrong, and her second clue would have been the conspicuously smoking boulders. Even though she had been freezing, she should have at least tried to look for another means of safety.
What sounds like a tree splinters in half behind her, and then, seconds later, there is an accompanying roar of fire. Paling, Sarah tries to curl around herself even tighter.
Is it setting the whole forest on fire? She thinks, beginning to panic. How was it even possible—the whole area, from what she could see, was saturated with snow. The flames now reach the very edge of her vision, the shadows that dance on the too cold tree trunks herald the flames that find them moments later. Smoke blows her way, and Sarah makes the mistake of coughing.
The frantic fumbling of the beast stop abruptly and she can hear it turning on the rocks littering the cave entrance. She can hear every step it takes, squat little toes shifting the stones around.
"Help," she whispers into the empty air.
There is another crack that splits the now-blazing air and Sarah assumes that it is the beast knocking over another tree. She tries to hold her breath as she edges away. If the smoke were thicker, more prominent in the area, maybe she could have escaped through it; as it is now, it's barely more than a campfire would have put off, and it was nothing more than an inconvenience for her.
The quasi dragon growls behind her and she can feel the reverberations through her body but she can't hear it moving anymore.
"You will not," something else growls, and she knows those tones, they way that voice rises and falls, the strange accent. Her eyes are as wide as saucers and she pulls her hands, now fisted up to her face to cover them.
The beast growls again, louder and she shudders.
"She is not yours to keep, salamander," the Goblin King warns, and Sarah now knows that to call her pursuer. She knew it wasn't a dragon, but… Salamander?
"I am hers, and she has abandoned me. I will exact my price," the salamander hisses, and she can hear it at least try to take a step forward, but it is stopped.
And by the sound of the crack, it was a rather forceful stop.
"She is more than just yours," the king warns. "Now go back to your cave, your flames." Sarah half expects him to offer the salamander's dreams to it but he does not.
Instead, he says, "Leave her to me, beast of fire."
Sarah frowns. While she didn't really want to be eaten by the salamander, she certainly did not like what the Goblin King had just said.
There is quiet, and then the giant salamander waddles off back to its cave. The Goblin King, from what she can tell from her position hunched behind the boulder, remains stationary.
"You may come out now, Sarah. The danger has passed." He sounds weary, but Sarah does not trust his words. As far as she is concerned, he is the danger.
But she moves anyway—albeit very slowly—from behind the boulder so that she is soon standing next to it.
"Where have you misplaced your guide?" he asks, and Sarah gets the distinct impression that she is being teased.
"He got separated from me. I did not misplace him," she tells the Goblin King testily, remaining solidly beside the boulder. Her hair, only half dried but still freezing, drips a halfhearted drop of water onto her boots.
"Come now, you must be freezing."
Sarah does not move.
Frowning, the Goblin King removes his cloak—the feathery one that she had last seen him in the first time—and holds it out for her, but makes it abundantly clear that she will have to traverse the distance between them herself if she wants it.
"What's going on?" She asks, hesitantly taking a step forward. "What was with that Revel—you were there—and this salamander?"
It's not as if she is expecting to get an answer anyway, which is why she asks her questions.
"That salamander is simply a victim of lost magic. She is a creature of summer, and with only me in this kingdom, she is suffering. I rather imagine that she had either wished to keep you in her cave, or eat you in hopes of getting to your magic."
Surprised, Sarah blinks.
"You actually answered a question," she tells him, neglecting to point out that he said she had magic.
He remains stoic and she doesn't notice as he edges ever so slightly closer.
Eventually, she grows tired of shivering and gives in, reaching out and stepping forward to take the cloak from his hands. She even mumbles a thanks and she wraps it around herself.
The once-burning branches now smolder and smoke; the flames have all been put out.
"You have used up three of your days, Sarah, and you still have much distance to travel. Leave this place and then rest for the night. Your guide should find you again."
And then he is gone, showering her with the magical residue she had seen all over the place during her first trek through the labyrinth.
She is in his arms because he has finally managed to catch her. It has been quite a chase, of course—she flitted behind the masked dancers and teased him as much as he had teased her the first time. Appearing and the gone when somebody happened to pass between them, staring at him from one end of the room, waiting for him to get close, and then she would dance away, caught in the arms of another dancer. Once she caressed his shoulder, but when he turned she was already long gone.
She knows how to play, this Sarah. She might be in a place of his creation, bound by his rules, but she certainly knows how to bend them to her own will.
The pillars, for example.
More than once she had ducked behind one, and it seemed that the more she did that, more sprung up out of nowhere. And the dancers too; they helped to hide her, this time. Instead of tugging on her decidedly sultry green dress like they had on the white, they parted as a crowd to let her through. This time, it was he, Jareth that they hindered and laughed at and pointed in the wrong direction.
He stalked her for hours in this dream, and as each hour ticked by he got increasingly anxious. Their time would be up—again—and she would be gone—again.
The look of surprise on her face when he stroked the hand that she had pressed up against the stark white wall was something to revel in, and the smile she flashed him after that—more of a smirk, really—sent chills down his spine. It was familiar, but not in a good way, because he knew that he made the same facial expression. It just was not natural on Sarah.
But there she was, spinning and smirking in his arms, in the dress he wanted this time, with her hair loose and curled, the way he liked, a good portion of it resting gently on her rather exposed décolletage, which he appreciated.
The other couples surround them, pushing them closer during some movements of the song and almost tearing them apart at others. He clutches at her waist and hand in an almost desperate fashion, and every now and then she squeezes his hand or shoulder in something that was akin to reassurance.
"Sarah…"
"Jareth?" She purrs, resting her head on his shoulder. "What is it?"
"Will you stay with me, this time?"
Sarah grins at him and pushes his arms away from her ever so lightly so that she can slip out of his grasp.
"Oh, Jareth…" She sighs, but she does not sound sad. "I don't know why you even bother to ask." She twirls out of his grasp but did not go any further; instead she chooses to mock him by taking a step back every time he takes a step forward to her.
"Stop running away." He orders.
"Stop chasing me." She demands.
"I can't." He breathes, so soft that she can barely hear him.
She frowns and looks down at her feet. "And I can't stop running. You can't fault me; I ran your labyrinth, after all. It's sort of what I do."
She fails to elude him for one moment, but it is all that he needs. He grabs her hand and pulls her to him again, trapping her around her waist with his other arm. She does not resist when he lets her hand drop and cups the right side of her face with his hand, and she does not resist when he claims her lips with his. She smiles into the kiss, but again, the displayed emotion does not match her body language, what she really feels.
"Jareth." She gasps when he stops to take a breath. "Do you know what you're doing to yourself?"
He ignores her and backs her into a wall, rubbing the small of her back with his thumb. She leans into him and buries her face into the crook of his neck, sighing with pleasure. Jareth shrugs her off and captures her in another kiss that she does not fight, and instead falls in to.
The king traces the girl's collarbone with a gloved finger and then dips down to outline the neckline of her dress. When he gets dangerously low, she giggles in a way that he knoes Sarah never would.
Jareth does his best to ignore it.
"Do you know what you're doing to yourself?" She asks again, but this time in between shallow pants and gasps for air.
"I do." He murmurs into her mouth again, but she pushes him away before he can kiss her. She steps away from the wall and pulls him along with her into another dance. They move around the other masked revelers in slow circles.
The king pulls their dance away from a couple that was wrapped in the same embrace that they had just been in.
"You can't keep doing this forever." She whispers to him, lips swollen and red.
They step around another lascivious couple and she pulls a little away from him so that their eyes meet.
"I think you know that."
Three more steps and her mouth is as close to his ear as she can bring it.
"She won't accept you. She hasn't before. She left for a reason," she says with a small, mocking smile that he can feel, and the spell was broken.
"I think you know that, too."
He wakes from his dream cold and shaking.
A/N
So, uh, guess which part I wrote with my eyes closed! I'm also going to ask if I need to increase the rating or something, what do you think?
Seriously though if there are typos in that section let me know because I wasn't kidding about my eyes being closed.