As Sarah strides through the castle, straw, feathers, and various stains whisk themselves away before her. Behind her, the corridor is pristine with no hint of dust, debris, or cobwebs. Getting the castle in order was so easy she wonders why Jareth didn't do it eons ago. The trick, she has learned, is not trying to do the entire castle at once. The goblins don't care about the mess, so why bother with the parts of the castle she doesn't see? Sure, it took a long time to learn how to get rid of each type of filth, but now the mess takes care of itself as she nears it, allowing her to enjoy a clean home with minimum magical effort.
The castle improvements have given her an idea for her next project. It's ambitious, though, and she's not quite sure she can pull it off. However, she's ready for a real challenge, something to really stretch her abilities. It won't be fun, she knows, but it might be a game-changer.
She finds Jareth in his throne room. Since she started exploring the castle, she's come to realize how frequently he can be found there. It is where most of his goblins congregate, and he seems to enjoy being in the midst of their chaos. Today, however, he takes no notice of the bedlam around him. He seems lost in thought as he sits slumped in his throne.
She draws her power back towards herself, leaving the throne room in its messy state. It feels intrusive to alter it in any way while he's using it. Since their last conversation in this room, she's been keeping him at a distance, and he seems to be doing the same to her, the hurt from their last confrontation still too fresh. She wants to clear the air between them, but knows she'll find no common ground where the goblins are concerned. If she wants to find a way to turn them human again, she's on her own.
When she reaches the dais, he still hasn't noticed her presence.
"Jareth?"
His eyes skip to her, focusing on her as a look of astonishment briefly crosses his features. She's surprised him. That's definitely a first. He barely moves, yet his entire demeanor changes, hiding the misery that had been written so plainly across his face.
"Sarah."
"You seemed very far away."
"Do you need something?" he asks, his voice disinterested and cold. It's clear that he won't tell her what he was thinking when she entered the room. He's closed himself off in a way she hasn't seen since she moved into the castle, and it hurts more than she's willing to admit.
"Um…" she starts, thrown off-balance by his behavior. "I was wondering about the Bog."
"What of it?"
"Does it serve a purpose? I mean, besides threatening Hoggle."
"What further purpose does it need?" he replies without humor.
"I see." She has one more thing to ask, and she takes care to word it in such a way that ensures she is not asking a favor. "I'd like to move Hoggle's post from the exterior of the Labyrinth to the Bog. Just temporarily. Will that be a problem?"
Jareth's eyebrows raise in surprise, his first signal of genuine interest in her since she arrived. "You are no longer friends, then?"
"We'll see how he feels when we finish this project," she says with a cautious smile.
"I believe I can spare him for a time."
Sarah lets her smile grow wider, a gesture of goodwill, and senses a bit of the ice melt between them. Jareth's expression softens, and he gives her a small nod before she transports from the castle.
She lands in the Bog of Eternal Stench and wishes she didn't need air to speak to Didymus. She might not need oxygen to survive, but her vocal cords require air to work.
The knight is at the tree by his bridge, just where she expected him to be. She greets him with a smile and pats Ambrosius on his shaggy head. The sight of the dog always brings her equal amounts of joy and sorrow; he looks so much like Merlin. She tries not to think of her loyal, old friend; the chances of him still being alive are nil.
"How fares my lady?" Didymus greets her.
The first intake of breath burns her nostrils, and she wills herself not to gag. "Just fine, Didymus," she chokes out. "I have a question for you… kind of a favor."
"Anything!" he says, eager to help. "You need only ask."
"Do you mind if I… alter the Bog a bit?" She plans to do quite a bit more than alter it, but since she isn't yet sure it will work, she figures this is close enough to her plans.
"Alter it? But why?" He spreads his arms wide and gestures to the decaying, belching landscape. "Have you ever seen a more beautiful vista? What could improve on such perfection?"
She has never understood Didymus' love affair with the place, and she hopes he isn't devastated if her plan works.
"I only want to do some landscaping," she assures him. "I need to work on my gardening skills, and I thought the ground here would be good for it." Which is close enough to the truth for now.
"In that case, my lady, do as you please. I shall be here to lend assistance should you need it."
She thanks Didymus and transports from the Bog, pleased to have his buy-in for her project.
Hoggle, however, turns out to be far more difficult to persuade.
"Why here?" he asks later, grumpily, as he jabs his shovel into the dirt.
Sarah uses her own shovel to turn another bit of soil, breaking it up before moving on to the next. "Because it's the worst," she replies. "If I can do it with the Bog, I can do it anywhere."
They're on the outskirts where the smell is hardly noticeable. An occasional breeze blows the fetid aroma towards them causing them to choke and sputter, but they mostly work in peace.
The dead trees were the first things to go and now they work together to turn the soil so they can cultivate new, living plants. It is back-breaking work, and they've seen little progress as the days have passed. But once they have this section done, she can use her powers to slowly move closer to the center.
"You don't know it'll work."
"Well, no… but that's why I need your help. You know gardening."
"I don't know nothin' about what you're doing."
"It's not complicated, Hoggle. We plant special trees and grasses and they clean up the Bog." She suddenly feels unsure of herself. The concept seemed simple enough. She had in mind a research project that she'd done in high school on new methods of landfill remediation. By planting certain trees and shrubs over the landfill, a company had managed to leach toxins from the soil, converting an unsightly scar to a beautiful forest, fit for hiking and other recreational activities. The plants continued to protect both the land and the neighboring water sources from pollution. If her theory proves correct, she can turn the Bog into a more pleasant place. It will still be a bog (she doesn't have Jareth's abilities yet), but it won't stink and might be a little easier on the eyes. If she's successful, this bit of magic could be her ticket home.
The biggest issue she has right now is that she doesn't remember which species of tree the article had mentioned. She enlisted Hoggle's help to choose the plants that will thrive in the Bog and do the most good. But since the process will be trial-and-error, she wants to ensure that no sentient plants are used in this experiment.
Together, she and Hoggle begin planting trees along the outskirts of the Bog, choosing species that grow in the adjoining areas. Dead trees are pulled out and replaced with the species that thrive. They have the best luck with Poplars, which makes Hoggle grumble even more than usual.
"Weeds with bark," he complains. He says it so often that Sarah can't help but laugh. They look just fine to her.
On the outskirts, nearly all the trees do well, but as they work toward the Bog's foul water, more and more of them either fail to flourish or simply refuse to grow. As they reach the water, they give up on trees altogether and begin experimenting with bulrushes, sea oats, and several species of sedge. The addition of goldenrod, waterwillow, and purple-stemmed asters provide splashes of badly-needed color.
Though Sarah soon learns how to do the work magically, the process is agonizingly slow. She may be able to turn the soil and plant the trees in mere seconds, but she can't force the seeds to grow more quickly than is natural for them.
During the weeks she allows for growing, she spends most of her time in the music room slowly learning the piano and branching out to other instruments whenever the mood strikes her. Jareth proves once again to be an adept teacher. They often sit together at the piano playing scales or simple duets, and Jareth often comments about how quickly she's learning. He provides sheet music for her, but she prefers to come up with her own melodies and then figure out complicated harmonies for them. Though she is far from mastering the piano, she begins branching out to other instruments, learning how they work and trying to produce the best sound from each. She doesn't have Jareth's skill on any of them, but with time and practice, she feels she might one day match him.
She sneaks glances at him as he sits with her on the piano bench, and every once in awhile, she sees a ghost of the look he'd given her in the throne room just before everything had gone to hell. But they never seem to get back to that place where things are simple and fun. There's a tension between them now; the knowledge that they disagree on something fundamental.
Sometimes she wonders what he'd do if she simply leaned over and kissed him, but she never gathers the courage to do it. When she lies down to sleep at night, she thinks over the day and all the ways she could show him what she's feeling. The what-ifs begin to infiltrate her dreams, sometimes showing her delicious ways he might react, but, more often, frightening her with ways he could reject her.
When she's not in the music room, she sits at a table in her sleeping chamber working on her lure. The table is most often found strewn with scraps of rough, hand-made paper on which Sarah has scribbled ideas and snippets of dialogue. A thick stack of paper, a fairly accurate copy of Jareth's original book that Sarah has recreated from memory, sits in one corner of the desk. Though she's certain it isn't a perfect recreation, she blushes when she reminds Jareth that there was only one line she ever had trouble remembering.
In the evenings, she works on her clothing. Silk is far finer and far more difficult to work with than the linen fibers to which she is accustomed. The process of spinning the fibers is frustrating and time-consuming, but the superiority of the finished thread is immediately apparent. She dyes the thread a vibrant true red, then begins weaving. In the beginning, she's lucky to finish an inch of fabric per day, but as she gets the hang of the process, she's able to produce up to four inches per day. She keeps weaving until she has a length of silk as long as her linen wrap. Unwilling to risk ruining her beautiful red silk, she practices her new dress designs on lengths of magically created coarse linen. She cuts and tweaks the dress until she is satisfied with the look and fit, then she takes it apart to make a pattern. She carefully cuts out the pieces of silk and begins sewing them together with strands of her red silk thread.
The silk dress has the same light feel as the sarong she made out of Jareth's cloak so long ago, flowing over her skin almost as if it isn't there at all, conforming to her shape as it skims her body. She leaves the skirt short, barely mid-thigh, allowing freedom of movement, but cuts the sleeves long so that they mold to her arms then flare ever so slightly at the wrist. The deep cowl neckline shows an expanse of white skin as it drapes nearly to her navel. She cuts the back of the neckline generously enough to allow her to pull it up and use it as a hood. She prefers to wear it up, but on the rare occasions she pushes it down, the back of the dress scoops nearly as low as the front.
When the dress is complete, she wears it to show Jareth. She has no mirror, but the look in his eyes when she enters the room is enough to convince her that she's done well, and she discards her old linen wraps in favor of her new silk dress. In return for more silk fibers, she plants several mulberries near the silkworms' home, ensuring they always have enough food for their caterpillars.
Time is difficult to track in the Labyrinth, and she suspects years must have passed since she began her Bog project. However, she knows her hard work has paid off when the addition of water lilies turns the Bogwater crystal clear and there isn't a hint of foulness to the air.
The belching pools provide an interesting challenge to her, but when she learns how to raise the water levels, she finally has the Jacuzzi baths she's dreamed of since her early days in the Labyrinth.
She enlists Ludo's help for the final project in the Bog: a present for Sir Didymus. By this time, she can quarry and hone stone to the shape she needs and then build the bridge by magic, but she enjoys Ludo's company and he enjoys helping her. He calls the rocks she needs and together they move them into place to create a wide stone bridge for Didymus to guard. The Bog has become so beautiful she imagines many of the Labyrinth's inhabitants will begin moving in. The bridge may soon actually require a guard!
The Bog becomes her favorite spot to visit with her friends. Didymus seems to appreciate not needing to leave his post, and Hoggle is surprisingly helpful in keeping the plants healthy and the pests subdued. Jareth, however, never makes an appearance.
So it surprises all four of them when he appears, the last of the day's fading light glinting off the gems sewn onto his deep blue jacket while she is enjoying a game of chess with Didymus. Hoggle and Ludo sit nearby, playing a game with little pebbles, the rules to which she doesn't quite understand. Didymus immediately jumps up, bowing and greeting Jareth as he approaches the group. Hoggle also rises, albeit far more slowly and grudgingly than Didymus. Ludo looks to Didymus then Hoggle before deciding to clamber to his enormous feet. Sarah remains seated on the ground where she watches with keen interest as Jareth takes in all of the changes to the Bog. An untrained eye would not notice the subtle changes in his expression and posture, would be unable to see his first cautious intake of breath, but Sarah notices and can tell he's impressed. With a smirk, she manipulates the air around her, and strains of instrumental music surround them.
When he hears the music, one of her own compositions, Jareth's eyes lock onto hers. He wears a smile similar to the one on her own face and approaches her. He reaches down to help her up.
"Come," he says.
She could refuse, she knows - she's in the middle of her game with Didymus - but she's curious about what Jareth wants. It's rare for him to interrupt her time with her friends, and he has never come to get her from the Bog. But the evening sun is setting, so she takes his hand and allows him to help her up.
"Same time next week, then?" she says to her friends.
"Of course, my lady," Didymus answers immediately.
Ludo's attention has been drawn toward a butterfly on a nearby buddleia, but he manages a friendly "Goodbye, Sarah," before she leaves.
Hoggle merely grumbles and waves her off as she and Jareth disappear from the Bog.
"A surprise, huh?" Sarah says teasingly as they reappear on the balcony of her sleeping chamber.
"It's time for you to learn something new."
Sarah sighs dramatically. A new skill means physical labor, and though she is willing to do what Jareth asks, she isn't particularly in the mood to get dirty and sweaty.
"Something very new," he insists, amused by her reaction. As he speaks, he spins a crystal on his fingertips. "It's time for you to learn how to make a focus."
"A focus?" she asks, watching the way the crystal ball follows his hands almost as if it can't bear to part with him. It pauses on the tips of his fingers for moment, giving her just enough time to see two figures dancing within it: a blond in deep blue and a brunette in true red.
"You understand physical magic. It's time for you to learn a more abstract variety." He rolls the crystal around the back of his hand, across his arm, and onto his other hand, catching it lightly and twisting it to show it to her again. This time, the dancing figures are closer, flesh to flesh, with no hint of red or blue. Her eyes fly to his and she wonders if he knows what she sees in the crystal. He gives no indication either way.
"What's the point of the focus?" she asks, trying desperately to stay on-topic. "I haven't needed one so far."
"Sarah," he begins, his voice smooth as silk. "We're offering men and women their dreams. They must be encapsulated so they can be presented." He holds the crystal out to her on the tips of his fingers. The two figures have stopped dancing and are simply holding each other, looking into each other's eyes.
"And this," she says, staring into the crystal, "This is my dream?"
"No, love. This is mine."
She hears the new term of endearment, but can't tear her eyes away from the crystal he holds in front of her. The figures lean towards each other, but just before their lips touch, the crystal slips into the palm of Jareth's hand and disappears.
"Jareth…" she whispers. Her heart is racing, but her mind has stalled. She looks up at him and his gaze is so heated it nearly burns her. It's the look he gives her in her dreams, but it's too new, too unfamiliar seeing it in her waking hours. Her instinct is to run.
She clears her throat. "Ok, so how do I do it?" she says, breaking eye contact and turning to settle on the stone ledge of her balcony.
He follows her and sits next to her, closer than strictly necessary. His leg touches hers, and her heart starts beating faster.
"You understand how magic flows. You know how to manipulate it. Instead of using it to control the physical world, you need to control an idea. Relax your mind. Open up to the possibility of holding a dream in your hand."
Sarah closes her eyes and cups her hands in front of her, willing a crystal like Jareth's to appear in them.
Nothing happens.
She peeks at her hands, then looks at Jareth, unsure what to do next.
"It didn't work," she says, slightly embarrassed.
"I see."
"Do I need to learn how to make glass or something?"
Jareth laughs, and the sound makes her heart soar. "That's not necessary. They're not really glass."
"Really?" She's shocked. It had never occurred to her that they were anything other than crystal.
"They're ideas," he says. "If you would like to conjure an elaborate dinner party, redecorate a room, or…"
"Send the cleaners after someone?" Sarah suggests wryly.
"Offer someone her dreams," he says, giving her a pointed look. "You can contain the idea in a single crystal."
"But how am I supposed to know someone else's dream?"
"That magic will come with your crown. In the meantime, you know your own dreams and you've seen one of mine." His eyes are guarded. He's putting himself out there for her, willing her to make a move and show him that his feelings are reciprocated. But she has no experience in expressing those feelings, and she is at a loss.
When she makes no move to conjure a crystal, he conjures one for her. "Here," he says. "Maybe this will inspire you."
She looks at the crystal in his hands and feels a sense of warm familiarity.
"Take it," he offers.
She reaches out to him and takes the crystal, but she is already lost to the dream inside it. She's standing on a brightly lit stage taking her bows while the audience stands and applauds. A stagehand enters stage left to hand her an enormous bouquet of pink roses. Her castmates take a step back and allow her her moment in the spotlight as the crowd cheers.
Sarah giggles at the image in the crystal. It's such a silly little daydream, but she remembers when it was her fondest wish to be loved by all of those people, adored by strangers.
"This was the dream you offered me all those years ago, isn't it?"
"It is."
She turns her body so she can face him and holds the crystal up between them.
"You kept it."
"I did."
"Would this have ever been my life?"
"If you'd accepted it when it was offered." His voice is smooth, matter-of-fact.
"But not without magic." It's not a question.
"Would you have wanted it? Truly wanted it?" he asks.
She looks back into the crystal, watching her teenage self bow once more to the cheering crowd. That's not her, not anymore. She'd outgrown this dream years ago, even before her transformation. It strikes her what she really wanted, back when she fantasized about taking her bows in front of hundreds of adoring fans, was to be noticed and appreciated. Loved. But applause isn't the same as love; this dream wouldn't have given her what she had truly wanted.
But then she realizes she can see something else in the crystal as well. If she turns it just so, the crystal remains clear and she can see Jareth's refracted image looking at her.
"My dream..."
She knows what her dreams are; she has no need of the crystal to show her. When she realizes this, she intuitively understands how to stow it away, sending the crystal and the dream into the ether where it can be recalled at her whim. She turns her wrist as she had seen Jareth do in her parents' room so long ago and the bauble disappears without so much as a pop. Jareth's eyes widen.
"It's you," she says. "For so long, it's been you." She knows what she wants, what she's wanted for so long, and he has shown her that he wants it, too. She needs only to reach out and take it.
It's fear holding her back. Fear of changing the dynamic between them. They've been in a holding pattern that has become comfortable for all that it is unfulfilling. She can reach out, take this last step, but if it doesn't work out, if he isn't all she wants, if she isn't all he wants… what then? She knows she has only a moment to make her decision. If he thinks she's rejected him, she'll no longer have this chance.
Better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.
The old saying comes unbidden. Love? She's not sure about that. But she'll take the risk.
She had expected to make the first real move, but he moves first, placing a gentle kiss on her lips. It's unlike the kiss she gave him inside her chamber after her dreamwalk; that had been pure gratitude. This, though... this held the promise of something bigger, and she leans into him, encouraging him to continue.
To her surprise, he pulls back.
"You're shivering," he says.
She realizes with astonishment that he's right. She hasn't been cold since she arrived in the Labyrinth, not even in the ice caves, but she's shivering now as if she's freezing.
"I think…" she starts, unsure that she should admit this to him. "I think I'm scared," she says, her eyes wide with wonderment. She shouldn't be scared; she's wanted this for years.
He lowers his chin in a slight nod, and she can't help but notice the longing in his eyes. "I'll stop," he says.
"No!" she says, a bit too loudly. Lowering her voice, she continues, "No, please don't stop."
"May I?" he asks as he raises his hand to run his fingers through her hair. She nods and he pushes back the hood of her dress. "Why are you afraid?"
"You want a reason?" she asks with a small, nervous laugh. "Take your pick."
His hand drifts to the back of her neck, and he holds her while he bends in to kiss under her ear. "Because this will change things between us."
Her eyes close, relishing the feel of his lips on her skin.
"Yeah," she says.
She feels his teeth graze her skin. "Because you've been worried for so long about your family that you feel guilty doing something for yourself."
He's right. This will not help her return Above, but she hasn't done anything just for herself for so long. Can't she just have this one thing? Hasn't she earned it?
"Yes," she answers, her voice barely a whisper.
He nips at her earlobe. "Because this is all new to you."
That hits a nerve, and she pulls away from him, needing space and air.
"Sarah?"
"Is it a problem?" she asks, looking out over the Labyrinth. She hasn't been a child in so very long, but in the face of this new experience, she feels tiny and immature. What does she have to offer that he couldn't get from any of the beautiful, experienced women at the Soirée?
"That this is new to you?"
"Yeah… I'm not like the people at the Soirée." She finally gathers the courage to look at him. "I don't have… I mean, I never..."
He interrupts her with a kiss on her mouth, one hand tangled in her hair. When he breaks the kiss, he rests his forehead against hers. "You aren't like the people at the Soirée," he confirms. "That's why I'm here with you."
She looks down at her lap. "But they know…"
"They know how to seek pleasure for themselves," he interrupts her, laying the gentlest of kisses on one of her eyelids and then the other. "That is what each one of them wants. Nothing more. You are greater than that. You work so that others may be happy."
"It doesn't bother you? That I haven't…?"
"No," he says firmly. "Does it bother you that I have?"
She shakes her head. She remembers the jealousy she felt when she considered his relationship with Elga. But now, in his arms, that jealousy has faded. He's here now with her and that's what matters.
This time, she leans in to kiss him. He kisses her back with heated fervor. She can feel his fingers running through her hair and cradling the back of her head, holding her to him, but, sitting side-by-side, the angle is awkward. She doesn't notice when his hand leaves her hip, and she yelps in surprise when he lifts her under the knees, picking her up and carrying her into her sleeping chamber. He grins at her, his eyes never leaving hers as he crosses the room and lays her on her bed.
"Wait, Jareth," she says, breathless. "My bed's too small."
"We'll make it work," he answers, kneeling on the floor and bending over her to take her mouth again.
"Maybe we should go to your room," she says when he moves to her neck.
"Mine is no larger." His voice has taken on a husky quality she's never heard from him before.
"What? Really?"
He ignores her question, running his hand down her thigh until he reaches bare skin and then slowly inches his hand underneath her skirt. He doesn't make it two inches before she stops him again.
"I want to try something," she says as she pushes him back and sits up.
He rests his hands on her knees, his thumbs drawing gentle circles on her skin, as she closes her eyes and concentrates. She imagines a bed, similar to the one on which she currently sits, only larger. Much larger. She knows where to find the materials and how to put them together. She holds her hands in front of her and pulls the idea from the ether, forcing it into her hands. When she opens her eyes, a crystal hovers centimeters over her hand. Inside, she can see the bed she imagined: a wide featherbed made of the softest linen she is capable of producing, dressed in lustrous undyed silk sheets, and topped with several large pillows.
"Neat," she breathes, grinning. She glances at Jareth, taking in his dark eyes and parted lips, and drops the crystal, allowing the magic to manifest.
The new, enormous bed on which Jareth and Sarah find themselves is exactly how she imagined it. She inspects the rough-hewn logs that make up the frame of the bed, and considers how much prettier it would be if she knew how to carve them.
She starts, "Maybe I should start learning woodwork…"
Jareth cuts off her words with another heated kiss, laying her down on her new bed. "Enough magic," he says gruffly. He pulls back and meets her eyes. "I need you."
Sarah only nods, suddenly incapable of speech. She runs her fingers through his wild hair, surprised at its soft, silky feel, then pulls him toward her. He has been kissing her, making her feel wanted, and she wants to return the favor.
For hours, they tease each other, love each other, make each other laugh and moan. They fly together, this time in their true forms. When they come back to earth, he lies against her, head buried against her shoulder as her fingers curl into his hair, gently massaging his scalp, encouraging him to stay joined with her so she can relish the way his weight pushes her into the featherbed.
"We're stupid," Sarah says suddenly.
Jareth only raises his head and looks at her suspiciously.
"We should have been doing this ages ago."
With a bark of laughter, he rolls off of her, then gathers her in his arms, pressing himself against her back. She can feel him nuzzle against her hair, inhaling her scent.
It is dark in her room; the sun went down without either of them noticing. With a small amount of will, Sarah lights a fire in the enormous fireplace.
"It's customary to fall asleep after such exercise," Jareth says.
"It's still early. I mean, if you want to sleep, I guess I could practice with the focus. I've got some ideas."
"Oh?" he asks, and she can tell he is more interested in sleep than magic.
"Well, yeah. First, a rug, I think," she says, rubbing one of her knees, tender from kneeling on the hard stone floor.
That gets Jareth's attention. His fingers graze her knee gently. "A rug," he agrees with much more enthusiasm. "Perhaps a very soft, thick rug." He places a kiss on her shoulder.
"And then woodworking. The bed frame is pretty rudimentary. I think I can do better. Plus, that wardrobe," she points at the crooked piece of furniture against the wall, "has bugged me for years."
"I made that wardrobe," he says in a tone of voice that would have made her knees tremble with fear when she'd first met him.
"Must've been early days for you," she says, teasingly.
He lifts his head, and she cranes her neck to meet his eyes. "You want a wardrobe?" he says as if she'd just challenged him to a duel.
She rolls her eyes, "Having one isn't really the point; I just want to be able to fix one. Not all of us are clotheshorses. The only thing in it is that old dictionary."
His eyes narrow. "What dictionary?"
Sarah thinks back, momentarily puzzled before remembering that she never had a chance to ask him about it. "I forgot to tell you, I guess. I found an English to Gaelic translation dictionary when I was exploring the castle. It was, oh, ages ago, back when I thought there was hope of finding a library." It's still impossible for her to believe that in all his time Underground, Jareth never amassed a collection of books, but she has been through the entire castle, seen nearly every room, and there is no library.
Jareth releases her and climbs out of the bed, crossing the room to the wardrobe to investigate. When he opens the crooked piece of furniture, he finds the book.
Sarah sits up, only mildly interested in his reaction. She'd flipped through the book already and there hadn't found much interesting about a dictionary for a language she doesn't even speak. She swings her legs off the side of the bed, concentrates for a moment and creates a crystal between her hands.
Jareth thumbs through the pages, a look of consternation on his face. "Where did you find this?"
"A couple floors down, last door on the right. What's with all those identical rooms, anyway? It's like the most depressing office building in the world down there." She lifts her hand and looks at the crystal from the underside, entranced by the way it hovers just over her skin.
"Show me," he says.
"Now? I dunno, Jareth." She looks away from her focus and looks him over, enjoying the sight of him without his layers of clothing. Her lips pull up into a smirk. "I kind of had other plans."
"Oh, really?" he asks, returning her gaze with one just as lascivious. He sets the book on Sarah's table with the pieces and pages of her lure.
Sarah drops the crystal and a cream-colored wool rug spreads across the room, covering the hard stone floor. She watches his eyes darken, then runs her big toe over the rug. "Hmm… I bet with some practice, I could make this even thicker…"
Jareth quickly crosses the room and cuts her off with a kiss. She pulls him down onto the bed with her, smiling against his mouth.
Jareth rests against Sarah's intricately carved headboard, reading her lure. It's ingenious, combining his original story with her own twist. The first half is The Labyrinth as it has always been, but the second half is all hers. The girl in the story wins, as she always does, and is returned home with her baby brother, safe and sound. But she doesn't forget the Goblin King and wonders for years what might have been had she accepted his offer. The people of the world Above cannot understand her and so shun and ignore her. The girl grows into a beautiful woman and invites the Goblin King back into her life, agreeing to join him, but refusing him as a slave. In this story, she wants to help the Goblin King and turn the Goblin Kingdom into a kind and welcoming place. They end the story as partners.
She'd laid it on a bit thick, he thinks. But the writing is strong, and he can see that she has broadened the appeal of the story. It reflects a more modern way of thinking while still maintaining the romance and fantasy of his original.
He closes the book and rises from her bed. The room has changed dramatically since he started sleeping in here regularly. His feet sink into the plush carpet, far thicker and softer than the one she had originally created. The new bed frame and headboard has been carved into a complicated filigree design. It had taken months to complete and been a true labor of love. She hadn't replaced his wardrobe, but with her new woodworking skills, she has fixed its lean and carved it to match the ornate bed.
He sees his discarded gloves, trousers, and boots and her red dress scattered on the floor of the chamber, but his shirt is nowhere to be found. He looks out the door to her balcony and sees her sitting on the ledge clad only in his white silk shirt, practicing conjuring crystals. She has one leg crooked up on the ledge while the other rests on the stone floor.
It's a bittersweet scene, his shirt on her body acting as a symbol of her acceptance of him while she practices the magic necessary to leave him. Driven, he thinks with a pang of regret followed immediately by guilt. He'll support her as she works to return to her family, but he can't help the jealousy that rises in him when he thinks of how she intends to leave.
With a wave of his hand, his trousers and boots are back on his body, and he moves to join her, willing himself to enjoy her company while she remains here with him.
Her eyes do not stray from her hands as she forms another crystal, though he knows she's aware of his presence.
He slides behind her, placing his hand on her hip and ghosting his lips along her neck.
"What did you think?" she asks as she moves her hands around the newly-formed crystal. It's an interesting variation on how the crystals move for him. His seem to be attracted to him, insisting on staying connected with him. But Sarah's crystals stay in one place while her hands hover around them. He peeks inside the crystal and sees himself and Sarah in a scene pulled directly from the night before. With her back to him, Jareth can't see the look on Sarah's face, but he imagines she is wearing a smile similar to his own.
"It will do," he says, watching the figures in the crystal.
"You don't think the end is too schmaltzy?" She lets the crystal pop, then leans back against him.
"It is, perhaps, more idealistic than what I originally intended for this story, but I can see the appeal."
"Your goals were slightly different than mine." There is no irritation in her voice. It is an understanding between them. They both know Jareth had revenge on his mind when he took on his role as Goblin King. Sarah's intentions are quite different.
"You're not worried about this affecting people who only want better lives for their children?" He is actually quite concerned about this. In his story, he had not sugarcoated the reality of what happens to the children who are wished away. Sarah's new ending, where the children remain human, is fiction.
Sarah sits up and turns to look at him, her face uncertain. He doesn't press her, allowing her the moment it takes to gather her thoughts.
"You told me when I started this to take my time and be absolutely certain about what I put in the book. That I would be 'forever bound' by what I wrote. I don't want to be bound by the rules as they are now. You have an obligation to care for the goblins; I respect that. And I like the goblins..."
He raises an eyebrow.
"I do!" she insists. "You were right about them. They're silly and kind of sweet... But I'll never get over the idea that they had their lives stolen from them."
"My story appealed to selfish people who cared more about themselves than the people they were meant to protect. Yours will appeal to lost and lonely people looking for refuge. Are you prepared to take responsibility for what will happen to them when they come here?"
Sarah stands with a sigh and begins to pace. "Your story appealed to me because I was unhappy in my life. I felt ignored and taken advantage of. I was selfish and I cared more about myself than Toby, and, because of that, I said something cruel that I should never have said. But you showed me, way back when I was first here... You and your Labyrinth taught me how to think of people other than myself. I learned about loyalty and courage and how to persevere when the odds are stacked against me. I won and when I got home, I was better for having been through the experience.
"The thing is…," she pauses, "I think you're wrong. I think I would have grown out of that attitude eventually. You just sped up the process. I think there's room for what you do. It may not have been what you intended when you built this place, but there's value in it. You help people become better versions of themselves. You teach them what's important.
"But then you keep what's most important, what's most valuable. And I get it! I really do! Those people… they don't deserve to keep those precious children for themselves; not when they were so eager to be rid of them. But when they leave here, they aren't those same people. Not anymore.
"I don't know what fluke of luck allowed me to win that day, but when I think about what could have happened to Toby… I just…" she shakes her head, unable to voice the thought.
"There are people who wish their children away and don't bother to get them back. I don't know what to do about them." She looks at Jareth, and he notices that she has tears in her eyes. "But the others? The ones like me who want them back, and who are willing to go the distance to get them back? Shouldn't they have the chance to learn? To grow? To become the people they should have been all along?
"We have the opportunity - the responsibility - to teach them. They call on us and we do what they ask, but then they leave us with their child and a new perspective."
She continues her pacing, occasionally brushing a tear from her cheek. "But there are others, too, Jareth. I never fit in Above. I didn't fit in before you and I certainly didn't fit in after. I tried, I really did. But I was always considered too weird… I was always alone. And then I came here," she pauses and chuckles, "and I was still alone. But it wasn't the same. And maybe it was because the people of the Labyrinth knew who I would eventually be, but there was a sense of support here that I had never experienced before.
"Jareth," she says as she stops pacing and looks him in the eyes. "We could be that for so many others. We could give a home to the lost and the lonely, the discarded and the hurting. We don't have to be monsters. We can be heroes."
He stands from the ledge and wraps her in his arms. He kisses the top of her head and encourages her to rest her cheek against his chest. He needs her to understand that he is concerned for her before he points out how her plans may fall disastrously apart.
"You understand, then, that you will be transforming innocent people into goblins? You'll take responsibility for them?"
She sniffs and he can feel the wetness of her tears on his chest. She pulls away to look up at him. "I don't want to turn anyone into a goblin. You know that."
"That is what will happen if you bring them here."
"We will find a way to change it, Jareth. I know we will. That book," she points to where it lays in her bedchamber, "is the future."
"Sarah, you're increasing the stakes of this game. Will you be able to handle the repercussions should you lose?"
"This was never a game to me."
Jareth nods, understanding.
"Very well," he says. "It's time."
"Time?" she asks, confused.
"Time for you to become queen."
Notes: Disclaimer:
This is a work of fan fiction. The author makes no money from this story.
Acknowledgments:
In addition to Labyrinth, this work is inspired by the Gary Jules cover of the song "Mad World" by Tears for Fears, a prompt from the Livejournal Labyfic community, and by my friend M. who will probably not read this, but should be acknowledged nonetheless.
This story has been beta'd by Aurora Kemanche and Exulansist. As weeks continue to pass, it becomes clear just how much I've asked of them and just how much they have done with such kindness and good humor. I am so appreciative of their hard work, their supportive comments, and their always-constructive criticism. They make me think hard about the story, clarify vague ideas, and strengthen plot points. They are, in short, absolute stars.
"Better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all," is quoted from Alfred Lord Tennyson's "In Memoriam."
The scene on Sarah's balcony is modeled after Pika-la-Cynique's "Games of Patience," which is easily my favorite bit of Labyrinth fanart, and which can be found on her Deviant Art page (I am, unfortunately, unable to link to it due to FF dot net's anti-spam policies).
"We can be heroes," is, of course, from "Heroes" by David Bowie.
This chapter has been heavily edited to comply with FF dot net's content policies. The original chapter can be found on AO3 and is rated Explicit.
Labyrinth is the property of Henson Associates, Inc., Lucasfilm Ltd., and TriStar Pictures.
