"'allo!"
Sarah smiled—she remembered that voice. She searched the wall in the direction the voice had come from and eventually found a little blue worm, complete with spiky blue hair and a little red scarf. "Hello. You're the little worm from the outer walls of the Labyrinth, aren't you?" she asked though she was certain of his response. The little guy would be hard to forget.
"Nah, 'twasn't me. You thinkin' o' me granpappy, Ol' Blue. I'm Shinah. Ah, but I remember you. You' the gal that beat the King. Granpappy always did feel a bit out o' sorts sending ya the wrong way like 'e did. But 'e knew if you was the gal from the prophecy, ya'd find the way. An' ya did, din't ya?"
Sarah stared at him blankly. "Wait…what? So, you're not the same worm from when I was here last? How do you know who I am? And what prophecy are you talking about?"
The worm actually blushed. "Ah, Gol! There I go again! Openin' me big mouth where it don' belong. Though, I s'pose since ya the one from the prophecy, it won't hurt to tell ya 'bout it. Come inside. Have a nice cup o' tea. We'll talk."
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**Win, Lose, or Draw**
Jareth watched Sarah go with a mixture of detestation and admiration. Always a combination of the two where that girl—that woman—was concerned.
The Goblin King had not lied. Those from Above would forget she'd existed. But Jareth had neglected to mention that those who have been in the Labyrinth before could retain their memories should he choose to allow it. She should be pleased with her brother's fortune. She should be glad that he would no longer worry over her. She should be happy to be rid of Marcus—after all, she knew the reason he'd become a goblin in the first place.
But Sarah was never easy to please.
He recalled her run through the Labyrinth—one of only a handful of humans who actually attempted to maneuver its ever-changing passages. Knowing the power that pulsated within her, he had given her everything she'd desired—even those things she hadn't known she'd wanted—assuming in the end she'd stay, but alas, even the Giver of Dreams failed where Sarah was concerned. How that galled him!
At least this time she appeared to be able to rein in her temper. Somewhat. That should serve them well in their future relations. Though he would have preferred a more cordial exit…
The noise level in the throne room returned to the steady hum of chaos upon Sarah's departure. Jareth pinched the bridge of his nose and conjured up his riding crop scepter to tap his boot, keeping time as if it were a metronome, forcing himself to concentrate. His kingdom was at war and he could not afford to waste time in banter with an ignorant woman who refused to be thankful to the man who saved her life.
Leaning back in his throne, Jareth began plotting his next course of action. However, without the distraction of Sarah there—without the intoxicating scent of the magic welled up within her deadening the natural aroma of his throne room—the smell became more than he could take.
Grabbing the nearest furball to his throne, the Goblin King hefted him to eye level. "I expect those who have been sent to the bog to remain in the vicinity of the swamp. Do I make myself quite clear?"
"Yessh, Your Majsty!" the little mop croaked out before being tossed aside.
Within minutes, the throne room was vacated by all but a few brave souls (and their chickens). Jareth drew in a breath of relatively clean air as he called up a crystal to check in on the enemy approaching from the south. He had briefly viewed them bumbling through a thicket before Sarah interrupted him, but he had not gotten a clear view as to exactly where they were in that particular part of the maze. Now he knew they had been close to escaping the area and he watched as they broke to rest for the night in a "safe" location. Jareth sneered at their naivety, reveling in another mild triumph for his Labyrinth. The plants in that section drained magic during slumber. It could be regained over time, but hopefully not before a few more were lost to his "games". Knowing magic as they did, the rebels really shouldn't have fallen for such a simple ruse—Sarah would have seen through it immediately.
Jareth frowned as once more his thoughts turned toward the Labyrinth's champion. Confound it! What was it about that blasted woman that got under his skin? She was beautiful, yes, but no more beautiful than those twits who threw themselves at him at the band practice. She was intelligent, but not a genius. She was stubborn, and selfish, and…infuriating! So why did he feel so drawn to her?
It was more than the overpowering scent of lust she unwittingly gave off when near him (although a night of unbridled passion might go a long way to clearing his head…). And it was more than the magic held captive within her, though just thinking about the raw strength she held was invigorating.
The moment Sarah was within the confines of the Underground, Jareth had felt a surge of power. It was pure ecstasy, greater than he'd dared dream. His senses were heightened, his energy renewed. Sarah was more than a breath of fresh air in his kingdom; she was oxygen in solid form. Yet even this was not enough of an answer; he could extract that power as long as she remained within the Labyrinth.
It must be the challenge she presented. He'd never been defeated before. He'd never been defied before. He'd met his match in Sarah and he'd be damned before he let her beat him again. They may be equals, but he was still king. And she had given him back his power—in spades.
Allowing thoughts of war to subside for the time being as the rebel soldiers rested, Jareth began plotting for something far more intriguing—full power over Sarah Williams.
He would win this game.
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)))(((
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"So…what about the prophecy you mentioned outside?" Sarah finally got around to asking as she took another bite of the most scrumptious cookies she'd ever eaten. Crumbs fell to her lap and she quickly brushed them off into her napkin lest they accidentally fall on "The Missus'" impeccably clean floor. The Missus turned out to be a lovely pink worm named Lara who promptly began fussing over her "untidy" room the moment Sarah stepped through the wall.
To her surprise, the entire section of wall had opened upon Shiner's command, showing a simple room set up for human-sized guests complete with a round breakfast table, porcelain tea pot and cups. Several circular tunnels littered the stone walls and floors and Sarah guessed these were the worms' more private chambers. It was a cozy corner of the castle, with little pink flowers in little blue vases on dozens of stone outcroppings; and despite the constant litter of dust from the stonework, it was immaculate—most definitely not what she'd expected a worm's abode to be like.
Since entering their home, Sarah had learned quite a bit about the worms in the Labyrinth. She'd learned that "her" blue worm had died five years ago at the ripe old age of 15. Shiner was quite impressed by his grandpappy's longevity and hoped he could at least make it to 12, at which point Lara admonished him that he'd better live that long or "I will have words with the keeper of the afterlife!" Her English was very proper indeed, and Sarah got the impression that she might be "slummin' it" when she married Shiner, but the evident love between the two worms was worthy of any good romantic comedy.
It was fascinating to hear of the worm's comprehensive memory. Shiner explained that each worm was given all the memories of all the worms from his father's line at birth as clearly as if they were his own, but only retained those that were essential to his personal gift. Some worms were chefs, some were artists, some storytellers or historians, etc. Shiner, as it turned out, was a prophet—like his grandpappy. Sarah didn't quite understand how it all worked (though he'd spent nearly an hour explaining it to her in great detail), but apparently prophets were only born during the time when a prophecy would be fulfilled. Hence the reason his grandpappy knew Sarah was the one foretold—she was the only runner he'd ever met.
But worms are not actually given the gift of Sight. That is left for those wisemen (and women) and their hats. In fact, it is the reason the wiseman from her run had worn the annoying thing in the first place. It is the hat's job to listen when the wiseman doses off in case a prophecy should be uttered in his or her slumber. However, if a worm should happen to be nearby (and they most always are), they too will retain the information.
However, he had yet to actually tell her the prophecy…and her patience was running thin.
"Ah…well…that ya see is a mite tricky." Shiner cleared his throat (which was surprisingly loud given his minute size). He looked around as if hoping Lara would come back out of the kitchen where she'd disappeared some time earlier, but telepathy was not his strong suit. He forged on. "Yes, well, ya see that is supposed to be kept secret (there are rules, ya see), but seein' as it affects you personally, I s'pose it'll be all right…'specially seein' as there's a war goin' on outside an' all. It may 'elp 'is Majesty in the long run."
The war. In all the excitement Sarah had almost forgotten the war—the one argument that had sealed the deal, so to speak, for her to return and Sarah had nearly forgotten it. She could almost sympathize with Jareth. Almost. She understood his need to do whatever he could to save his kingdom—her friends. That didn't make the act of ripping Sarah out of her family's memory hurt less, but it did give a reason for his cruelty.
Oblivious to her inner struggle, the worm sat up straighter (which in this case meant rising so only the last four body segments rested on the table where Sarah sat) and began speaking in his most hoity-toity proper English accent,
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"From Above a female calls
The Goblin King by name,
The power held within his grasp
Far more than one man can tame."
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"How can you be so certain this prophecy is alluding to me? Surely I am not the only one to call upon the Goblin King," Sarah challenged.
"Ah, but ya see, Miss, you are. Not many out there think of goblins as nice. Even those who 'ate their charges wish them to some demon or other, but never the goblins. 'is Majesty answers all their requests, but none o' them asked for 'im by name. 'Till you come along, that is."
Sarah blushed. Nathaniel had said something similar and it made her feel all the more horrible hearing the worm repeat it. They must think she was really awful if she could wish her only brother off to goblins. Of course, she hadn't been turned into a goblin—she'd gotten Toby back—that had to be a point in her favor.
The words of the prophecy turned somersaults in Sarah's mind. If she wastruly the first female to call upon the Goblin King, then that meant she held some sort of power. That lying bastard! The "magic" that was draining from Sarah was her own power—that he wanted to steal!
Sarah took a calming breath so that the worms would not realize she was angry. She was afraid if they thought she wanted to harm the king they wouldn't answer any more questions. And at this moment, she really wanted to harm the king. For some reason, despite how poorly he treated his subjects, they all appeared to be fiercely loyal to their king; even when helping her, she sensed that they only did so because they had determined she held no vicious intent.
She spoke softly, as if merely thinking out loud. "So that's it, huh? The reason he wants me here is so he could get some more power? But I spoke the magic words. How can he take my power now? He has no power over me."
"Shhh!" The worm practically jumped in his rush to get her quiet—quite a feat with no legs. "Don't say those words. Never say those words. 'e'll 'ear you!"
"But it's the truth. And they've been said before. As Jareth is so fond of saying, 'What's said, is said'," Sarah argued, using her best Goblin King impersonation. It was quite good.
"'at s'right. You go on sayin' those words. Draw 'is attention. See 'ow long we 'ave to talk about the second prophecy in private." Shiner leaned in conspiratorially and whispered, "The one 'e don't know about."
Sarah's eyes widened in surprise. "What do you mean, he doesn't know? How could he not know?"
Certain that Sarah was no longer eager to shout the magic words, Shiner began crawling back to his original spot on the table. " 'e don't know because the prophecy wasn't for 'im. It was for you." Calling back over his shoulder as he moved, he explained, "Over a 'undred years ago, one of my ancestors 'appened to be buildin' a new tunnel when Fenucia the wise shouted out a particularly strong vision. Since no one was there to over'ear it (she left 'er little bird 'at in the other room for some reason only the two of 'em knew) and my great, great, great (you get the idea) grandpappy promptly forgot it (not 'aving the gift of prophecy, ya see), no one knew it 'ad been spoken—including 'is Majesty. And as it only indirectly pertained to 'im, I'm under no obligation to share it unless asked directly as per the prophetic laws.
"A few years back, 'is Majesty did ask if any worms knew of any prophecies concerning the Labyrinth's champion, but 'is timing was off. 'e asked after the passing of grandpappy, but before my birth (he always forgets the relatively short lifespans of the worms…what with our comprehensive memories and all).
Sarah felt like she was back in grade school and one of the little boys was singsonging, "guess who has a secret!" Now, when it comes to secrets, there are three kinds of people: those who refuse to hear any kind of gossip, those who reluctantly listen so they can see if there is a way to help, and those who eagerly await a new secret as if ripping open presents on Christmas morning. Sarah fell into the latter category when the secret pertained to her. Good, bad, or ugly, Sarah wanted to know any information that had to do with her. And a prophecy was like a very accurate fortune teller. She couldn't wait!
The worm smiled a bit, recognizing her eagerness, but he didn't comment on it. He simply cleared his throat again and began speaking clearly, yet quietly so no one could overhear.
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"The Champion has lost her way
No laughter, fear, or sorrow
'Till brought beneath the King's stronghold
His power hers to borrow."
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A smile slowly appeared on Sarah's lips. Two could play at the Goblin King's game, and Sarah intended to remain undefeated.
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A/N: So, no excuses as to the delay in this chapter. It's what you get when you have a busy perfectionist, who never actually does anything perfect, but always tries her best…sometimes trying my best takes a VERY long time.
On a side note: to anyone who has challenged me in the past, I think I am caught up…if I missed you, can you please let me know? It's the whole "perfectionist" thing peeking through you know…
Oooh and reviews! I love them! Ameliagets to be called out special because, well, she left me a really nice review, but she did it without her account so…much love to you! Thank you so much for your kind words!
Also, I would be remiss not to mention "Anonymous" who also left me a lovely review. Thank you so much for taking the time to leave me a note. I do hope you liked my Shiner!
And finally, tea rose dreams, who actually did sign in for the review, but alas, has no way to PM…sad, I know. Tea rose, I must say that your review made me smile—first and foremost because I love getting nice reviews, so thank you!—but second, because you felt trouble "brewing" and your penname is "tea" :-D. I'm not sure if you did that on purpose or not, but it is just my kind of sense of humor. :-D
Now, to everyone else who reviewed: You are amazing and wonderful and you make me happy. I know I already responded to you, but you deserve another thanks altogether soooo… Thank you: moira hawthorne, SnigePippi (don't you just love that name?), 2SWEETCherry, jujulr, Selena.t, tomoe-gozen52, artseblis, and startraveller776
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MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!
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P.S. Reviews make a GREAT Christmas present...
