Disclaimer: I don't own nothing!
An Expression of Doubt
By
Jaffee Leeds
Each
mortal thing does one thing and the same:
Deals
out that being indoors each one dwells;
Selves-
goes itself; myself it speaks and spells,
Crying What I
do is me: for that I came.
--Gerard Manley Hopkins
What would you have done?
After healing your own body without medicine or even physical connect and talking to your father who just happens to be king of the goblins. In all honestly, what would you do?
I think I did what any normal girl would do. I walked toward the castle in a daze. For about an hour I walked in total silence and without a genuine thought in my head. My mind didn't register the Underground world around me or the fact that the gravel was cutting my bare feet. I realized this later when my brain snapped back on.
As I said it was about an hour later that I came back to the land of the living and saw that I had reached the outer gates of the Goblin City. Up until this point I wasn't sure what I was expecting, the slums of 17th century London? The orphanage from the movie Oliver? Maybe even a Soho tenement. Whatever I had expected, I was unprepared for the tidy quaintness of the city.
Street after street of neat little two story houses met my eyes. They were perfectly constructed little homes even if some of they leaned out in odd angles. My architect's eye could see the clever way in which each one had been built to give it a solid foundation without sacrificing the creative angles each was formed by. Even the windows were fitted with special glass panes to suit the unique frames.
Tiny rain barrels stood under gutter pipes and some of the houses had handkerchief gardens where flowers and herbs grew alike. And there was something terribly sweet about the lines of washing that flapped in the dry wind. Everything pointed to the contented existence of a race of small creatures with a taste for the odd. It was different, but not evil or repulsive. It surprised and saddened me.
It was the perfect picture of contented existence but for one thing; there were no goblins living there. Every single one was gone without a trace. Looking around I couldn't see a particle of the red dust that indicated life in the Labyrinth. It was all drab brown and tan as if the color of life was leeched away when the goblins had gone. I couldn't help shivering at the knowledge that at any moment the whole city might disappear with me in it.
But could it? I felt the power of the Labyrinth running just below my skin. As the edges of the Underground frayed I was hideously aware of its loss. Although it was not the same wrenching pain that I had experienced with Abner's loss, it was like a slow headache lurking just behind your eyes. I pushed through the city with a growing sensibility of losing time.
It bothered me that I could be so aware of loss while still living, breathing and thinking as if nothing was happening. It was a mocking reminder that I wasn't an oblivious human or the all knowing Jareth, but a creature bound up of both worlds that must bear the burdens of both. It wasn't fair.
Jareth was waiting for me in the castle. I knew, without having seen him there or known of the place before hand, that he was waiting on a balcony above the throne room. I knew too that he was watching my progress through the city with as much attention as he had watched my mother nearly 27 years before.
But I wasn't storming the castle in search of my baby brother. I wasn't accompanied by loyal friends or even waylaid by hordes of goblin warriors. No dead-end streets would confuse or misled me, I knew where I was going and what's more, I knew why.
Because Jareth was worth saving.
I didn't care about my father because he was a good man. That, I think, has always been out of his reach. I did not even care about him because he was my father. I'd known enough crappy biological fathers to put much stock in the strength of blood ties. No; I cared because he was the center of a world that was wonderful and beautiful, a world that was everything to multitudes of strange, but innocent creatures.
I finally stopped in a minuscule courtyard on the edge of the city. It was paved with flagstones and centered on a rectangular fountain decorated with gnomes with Asian eyes. On one side a smooth wall of about shoulder height curved around the road that wound up to the castle which shot up into the sky. It was far larger than I had thought, and peered over the Labyrinth with brooding air. Night was rapidly advancing on me and the temperature had dropped several degrees. I suddenly wondered if there was even a winter in the Underground.
"Are you kidding me?"
I whirled around and was confronted with a mirror image of myself. She stood there, arms crossed and an incredulous expression on her face.
"Who are you?" I demanded roughly.
"I would think it was obvious," she snorted giving me a significant look.
"Okay, let me clarify. What are you?"
This seemed to be the right question because the image immediately answered, "I am a subconscious expression of your natural doubt concerning saving Jareth and the Underground from total destruction."
"If you were a subconscious expression of doubt you wouldn't appear in visible form," I countered defensively, "You could only appear in a dream."
"Aha, but even your subconscious is aware that in the underground dreams are a reality," she shot back.
I threw up my hands and headed for the castle road, "I don't have time for this."
She appeared ahead of me on the road, "You're saying that because you can't face the fact that Jareth's a douche bag and not worth a plug nickel."
"I do not think Jareth's a douche bag," I marched around her, 'And because it's true, I don't have the time."
"But you do. You do and even at this point you've been hoping that someone would come along and present you with reasonable doubt about your decision. I am here as a result of this wish. Look, I'm even wearing your clear thinking clothes."
She was right. The faded jeans and hideous argyle sweater were the clothes I wore when trying to focus and concentrate while studying. The image's face smiled in triumph, "Admit it, you're not sure."
I considered her for all of two seconds, "Goodbye."
She reappeared reclining on a low wall several yards ahead of me, "Think of what you'll tell Mom, and what she'll say when you tell her what a great father Jareth really is. Not to mention how much you've come to admire him."
"I don't admire him," I almost yelled, "Go away!"
"But you're beginning to care about him. You're looking for reasons to like him."
"I don't have to look for reason; he has good qualities."
"You're only saying that because it touches your heart that he came to your rescue and cradled you so tenderly," she made a mocking motion with her arms as if she was rocking a baby.
"It was sweet," I spat, "I know he cares about me."
I shoved her neatly off the wall and onto the ground with a thud. Walking on I noticed her keeping pace with me. Our strides matched exactly.
"So, Jareth cares about you. That's why he abandoned you as an unborn baby, stayed out of your entire life, made you heal yourself and then told you to come to him instead of the other way round? Either way, it sounds bad."
"You know what?" I whirled on the image until we stood nose to nose. Our dual-colored eyes glared at each other and I knew our expression was identical, "He does care about me. He cared about me then and he cares about me now. I know that he left me with mom because she was the best parent for me. I know he cared about me enough to stay away when my mother asked him too. You know that if I had been exposed to both worlds as a child I wouldn't have developed normally at all."
"Why?"
"Because I am part of the Labyrinth," I held up a hand in her face, "Because I feel it here and here," I touched my heart, "Because my entire life I've felt as if there was something more, something greater than my everyday world. Only now I know what it is and how it works. Jareth has only been showing me how to know it and myself completely."
"And the kidnapped babies? Is that part of knowing yourself completely? Are you a heartless kidnapper?"
I felt like I'd been slapped. There was no emotion in her voice, no sentiment besides dead honesty. The breath escaped my lungs as my mind whirled.
"I don't know," I finished lamely, "I don't know. Maybe they're happier here as goblins than living in homes where they aren't really wanted."
"What about Toby? He was definitely wanted; even Mom admitted that much once Jareth took him." The image circled me challengingly.
"But he wasn't really there for Toby at all, "I answered slowly, "He was there for Mom. Jareth was always there for Mom."
"But Jareth wasn't in love with all the parents and brothers and sisters that ever wished away the babies. How do you explain that?"
"I can't," I straightened suddenly and firmly faced the image, "But that doesn't mean that Jareth should die, and it doesn't automatically condemn the Underground to the void. Now, I understand you being here for reasonable doubt and you've certainly expressed that. But now you have to go because I'm going up to the castle and I am confronting Jareth regardless of what you say. So you might as well take yourself off and do something useful."
She shrugged, "Alright, suit yourself. You always do."
I stopped her with a hand on her arm, "Thank you, I needed to face to the facts even if I didn't change my mind."
She looked from my hand to my face, disbelief all over her features, "You do realize you just thanked yourself for being sensible?"
"Yeah, but what's life without a little self congratulation once in a while?"
"My God, but you're Jareth's daughter!
She vanished with a puff of red dust, the sight of which made me hopeful that maybe; just maybe the Labyrinth wasn't beyond saving. I continued up the path to the castle, my eyes glued to the massive double doors. They were going to be hard to open for me but they were the last barrier between me and Jareth and after that---who knew?
JarethSarahEmilyJarethSarahEmilyJarethSarahEmilyJareth
Jareth secured the doors of the castle without locking them. Considering Emily's growing potential, Jareth wasn't about to make things too easy for her. His footsteps echoed hollowly in the vast halls of the citadel, but Jareth wasn't seeing the vaulting ceilings or the archers of windows that let in the light of the waning day. All the boundless energy and dangerous attention of the Goblin King was focused wholly on his child.
As Jareth's long legs carried him from room to room, he was casting loose a series of crystals, obstacles that Emily would have to pass before she could come to him. Hesitation never stayed his hand. The worry that his daughter wouldn't know how to face each problem was something Jareth would have to risk. Sarah had managed to conquer the Labyrinth with amazing ease. Perhaps he had held back somewhat with her, but not with his child. The very nature of Emily's being meant that he couldn't leave anything to chance.
Reaching the throne room, Jareth paused in the archway to look back down the corridor that severed the rooms and led right to him. To the casual observer it was nothing more then a series of empty, bar walled rooms; to Emily it would be a series of dead traps and puzzles. She could die by any of the means he had prepared. And again, she might come through them more than conqueror.
And yet—
She would be able to see the traps, the tests and she would see him watching her. It was a possibility that she would not risk her own death to save his. She had no reason to save him. At any moment, his daughter could leave the Underground and let the chips fall where they might. Emily was not Sarah. In his confrontation with Emily there would be no theatrical stage of a fragmented world, no ghostly vestments of white and alabaster and no offering of dreams.
All would be harsh reality and sharp edges. Jareth would present himself in the fullest realization of authenticity. Black was the color of reality, a color of definition----the color of death. Everything he wore was black without the glint of magic. Only the pale golden hair that framed the angular features was not touched with the deathly hue. Only that and the dual-colored eyes that watched the door.
JarethSarahEmilyJarethSarahEmilyJarethSarahEmilyJareth
Yodeladyhoo: I love getting your reviews. I don't feel free to go on to the next chapter if I haven't heard your opinion on the present one. Such is the dependence of the author upon the reader. I like your reviews. They show that you are thinking about the story and that is the greatest complement an author can be paid. Thank you so much.
Avitergirl: I'm so glad you like it. Please keep reviewing!
Daughter of Olorin: When I go to write a story on the movie I make it my job to notice everything. Jareth always keeps a certain distance from Sarah. It comes in very handy to notice these kinds of things. It allows you to analyze the reason behind it within the confines of the story. And about Jareth being touched by holding Emily—I consider that even though Jareth is certainly not human and seems to lack the usual set of emotions there are specific moments when he is more than human. Think of the times when he was holding Toby and dancing around the throne room. Jareth is by no means an inhuman monster just—shall we say complex? Thanks for reading again.
lanthe: Don't worry about being repetitive it's a boost to the author's ego. Like most writers I like I suffer from low self confidence. Even though I am having a public reading at Borders in a few weeks time I can't help but wonder if my writing is good enough for it. I battle with self doubt a lot which is one of the reasons I wrote this chapter. I hope you liked it.
