A/N: "To the surprise of no one, there was no update for a longass time even though the author said there might be in the last update they posted" HAHAHA DIDN'T REALIZE HOW LONG IT HAD BEEN SINCE I UPDATED WHOOPS YALL. JESUS THAT'S ALMOST 2 MONTHS KINDA A NEW LOW. I'M NOT DEAD AND I HAVE CHAPTERS WRITTEN! It's just - time - passed. Fast. Did I lose time? No. Did minor tasks and my sleeping patterns get completely tossed aside in lieu of deadlines that were due? MAYBE. Anyways. Here's a chapter! A new one will be posted very soon! Maybe this coming week! Probably this coming week! Bc I don't like cliffhangers even though I write them! We'll call it a late Valentine's Day treat because I missed that day! Happy Valentine's Day by the way! I hope you all took time to love yourself and treat yourself. That's really what the day should celebrate, not just boy/girl/friends/or lack thereoff! Anyways for THIS chapter: ANGST ANGST ANGST and one answer that I KNOW has got to be bugging at least some of you because it was bugging the hell out of me even typing it! Around it? Whatever. ALSO HOLY HECK 50 FOLLOWERS! WHAT IS THIS!? And even if by typing that it somehow got jinxed and now I'll sink back down to the 40s it was WORTH IT I MADE IT AT ONE POINT IN TIME, LET THE RECORDS SHOW. THANK YOU! Despite the fact that I obviously like to type a lot it's very overwhelming to put into words, but thank you! I'm trying to imagine 50 people reading this and... Nope the visual imagery isn't there. But I know you're out there! (Or it's a lot of bots with a very particular itch for heroines with sass, anxiety and swearing. And vague mysteries.) And lastly, to anyone that figured out this chapter before Sarah: congratulations! Gold star! YALL SHOULD BE THE MAZE RUNNERS! Thank you as always! New chapter very very very soon. Thank u for ur patience (REALLY A LOT), follows, and support, especially when I give you radio silence!
Comes with a Price
(Ok, Williams. You haven't beaten it. You can't just guess the title and expect to be out of it.)
She sighed, her breathless air joining the dead wind. Midas begged the gods because - … (Because… He'd been wrong. His gift was now his curse.) So… That meant…
(Do I have to beg forgiveness to get out of here? Or beg forgiveness for making this place? It's kind of now my curse, but - wait, no, I didn't ask for this. I wanted to come back. So who do I say I'm sorry to? There's no god, and I didn't pray for -)
(Ah, but Sarah… Didn't you wish? Wish to a magical being?)
(Who… him?)
No. No way. Forgiveness for what? What would she even ask?
(Saying I'm sorry for asking to come back doesn't make sense. I'm not sorry I'm back. I mean, I am now that I'm beaten to a pulp, but it's better than sitting and wasting away. So… What would I say sorry to him about now that I haven't already?)
She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, debating.
The split path yawned before them, shining with hot, bright air. It felt like walking into a wall of heat. Dripping, cascading heat. She wiped her forehead, feeling again the sand-like texture of the gold against her hand.
He considered, pausing, and she dripped with sweat, the halting of their motion causing her to stagnate in the warmth. Had they really just been in the snow? In the ice? It seemed impossible. He guided her to the right, another identical and blinding path.
(Ok, say it's Midas: I have to say I'm sorry? Or maybe that I'm wrong…? The king had to admit his mistake…)
(What was I wrong about?)
(Well… He's not completely evil and twisted…)
But she'd never thought that in the first place. Dark, mysterious, and a threat to her brother, sure, but…
Not evil.
There'd always been an intriguing tug to him… Something that… Drew her in, but not… It wasn't a dark or evil feeling, it was just… Hypnotic? Magnetic? She didn't know. (That's not the point. He's not evil. You knew that already. What do you regret?)
She'd regretted asking for Toby to be kidnapped.
(But if I hadn't, I might not have met them -)
(Right, but if I could go back, I'd wish something else. I wouldn't want to risk him again, is the point.)
(Ok, so… I'm sorry I was wrong about Toby.)
Even in her mind that sounded stupid.
(Try again.)
Another dead end. They turned around slowly, greeting the hot fog of gold dust that swirled in their wake.
(Fuck.)
(I'm sorry we keep hitting dead ends. I'm sorry I… Misjudged him? This? The experience?)
Nothing happened. They went back, Sarah trying not to drag her feet. She suddenly hated her lace-up boots, her long pants and shirt that coated her skin, the strap of her bag swinging against her, just another layer for the hot to build under. They reached the entrance of the branch, the gold dust still floating, gently spiraling down onto their trail. He rubbed his eyes, thinking, then led them back a little winding passage, which peeled off into a series of zigzags. Sarah rubbed the top of her dusty head, which was definitely burning, along with her face and hands, her skin feeling chapped and dry against the dust. Looking up at the sky only intensified the gaze of the sun, beaming down like a laser. She went back to gazing at the metallic stiff corn, which was unmoving and unbent, whistling eerily against the dead hot breeze. Gold ground, gold dirt. Gold wheat, gold corn - wait. She turned around.
(Is this corn? The gold is starting to… Make it almost look like…)
The walls around them were now completely wheat, rows of wheat swaying in the wind.
"Hey…" She panted.
"Are you done thinking?"
(Was that sarcasm or - no, he was serious.) "I - yes. Um. The plants… Maybe it's because they're gold, but I don't think…" She cleared her throat against the stifling air.
(I wonder how much of this stupid dust I've inhaled already.) Not that it seemed to matter, given how much water and opium she'd breathed in prior to that. If something was going to kill her, it seemed like gold inhalation would be low on the toxicology report. "I think I might have been wrong. I don't think it's corn. It doesn't look like it, and…" (And corn is thicker than this, much thicker. I think. I mean, I've never actually… Been in a corn Labyrinth. Have I? Maybe when I was little, but… )
He squinted. "I… Suppose it doesn't. Does that mean something?"
"It looks like wheat…" She let herself trail off into thought as he reached another spilt, going right. Wheat. Why hadn't she caught that before? She'd missed something.
(What was I thinking? I see one yellow path a green plant and that's Oz? I mean, to be fair, I had just had a panic attack when I'd noticed, but…)
The sun beat down, her skin trying to sweat off the temperature and the gold. Well, maybe a panic attack was a good excuse, but she was paying dearly for it now. Wheat. Was wheat important? Was it different now that it was gold? Was this a warning somehow? What fairy tale had wheat in it? What fairy tale had gold wheat in it!?
(This looks more like a Vegas cereal commercial than anything else!)
He pulled her down another path, straight to -
Another dead end.
Sarah turned around, bowing her head against the hazy air. The dust was getting everywhere. It hit her ears, her hair, going up her sleeves. She was going to become Midas's daughter by the end of this. She rubbed her fingers together and the gold felt both grating and oily to her touch, grinding into her skin like a rough paste -
(Fuck. Gross. I feel like I'm getting spray painted. Ok.)
(Turn around. Think back. You're missing something. And goddamnit, why isn't there any water in this place!?)
(Because it'd be gold, too.)
She coughed, trying not to think about breathing down the sweltering air, which was almost choking her, like a thick heat-pulsating gas.
(Ok. Let's rethink this. Maybe… Maybe I missed something. Midas didn't have corn or wheat anyways. So. We went from the Wizard of Oz, to - pure gold. Gold for days. What else besides Midas made gold?)
Alchemy. But that wasn't right, alchemy was about transforming things into gold through science. And unless this heat was somehow responsible, it seemed unlikely. Dead end.
He sighed, coughing a little, and she glanced at him. His skin shone oddly, there were streaks in it from his fingers, his hair now glinting with flakes, no longer flowing behind him, just hanging dully. Her own hair was plastered to her sweaty forehead. She pushed it away from her face, feeling the heat absorbed by the darkness of her curls. In fact, her whole body was radiating heat, sticky and drying. And while his arm was cool to the touch, she knew he couldn't be comfortable in this environment.
(I need to think faster. What about the ground? What I thought was the yellow brick road. That's where this started. But these were never bricks… The rocks and the dust…)
She held up a limp hand, glistening with perspiration and gold. "Hey… Can we… Hang on a second…" Her struggled breathing was back, though this time it was due to heat and dust, not her panic. He halted, letting her crouch down to the ground. She extended her fingers stiffly, reaching for the shining earth and - "OW! Shit!"
The gold, hot and metallic, seared her skin, the heat painfully biting into her. She was pulled up roughly, his hands hauling her backwards.
"Are you -"
"I'm fine, I'm fine, the - it's all gold, and it's hot." She shook out her fingers. "I was stupid. My fault. I wasn't thinking. I'm getting -" (impatient and frustrated.) "- Nevermind. Let's go. I'm fine." (Idiot. What did I think was going to happen.)
She really didn't need burned fingers on top of everything else, and she stuck them in her mouth, tasting the grime of the gold, feeling the stiff warm flakes between her teeth.
(Why didn't I eat any snow while we were in the poppies? Or the ice caves? Actually, I think the last time I had water was in the well, when I swallowed it, but -)
They went back, slower it seemed, through the dust and the zigzags, and he hesitated, wiping his face, then slowly pulled her to the right, going down a curving path…
(If it's not the Wizard of Oz… If it's not Midas…)
The gold seemed brighter the longer she stared at it, the light reflecting off the reflections. She waved her burned hand around listlessly, trying to cool it down somehow against the hot air. The dust-coated breeze was in her nose, on her lips, and she wondered how long it would be till she couldn't breath through it, or -
Or passed out from the heat. A single touch of her hand had burned her.
(So how long until your shoes start melting though? And what about after that?) She could feel her baking skin, painful against the unwavering heat. (This whole place is a pressure cooker.)
(God I'd kill for some water.)
The hot wind felt like it was drying her out, and Sarah closed her eyes against it. It even smelled dusty, the grains of gold earth in the air, the dryness, the scent of the wheat -
(Wait - wheat -)
(No. That's not the smell of wheat. Or corn. That's the smell of -
I know that smell. It's - oh, come on, it's - what is it - ) "Do you smell that?"
"Dust?"
(Well, yes, but no.) "No - that plant - It's not corn, it's not wheat, it's… What is that?"
She sniffed then sneezed. (Maybe it's the dust, but… No, the dust doesn't smell like anything, but when I close my eyes, and really smell… There's that scent, under the heat and the sweat and the grime. Sweet, but not like the poppies… Grassy… Fresh fields…. Like the fall… I've smelled this before, it's not corn, it's not wheat, but it's the same color, the same gold, it smells like -) Sarah smiled. Straw. (That's the smell of straw.) "It's… Straw. It's straw!"
"Does… That help us?" He glared at her against the light and she turned towards him, forcing her overheated brain to think out loud.
"Straw… I thought it was corn, I thought it was wheat, now I think it's straw. Just like I thought it was Oz, and then Midas… Gold and straw… Straw turning into gold… Alchemy… Straw into -"
(Gold. If this is really straw, then… Then Alchemy wouldn't work, because that required chemicals and metal bases. But straw, an organic compound... Straw into gold… Using magic to turn straw into gold…) "Oh, my god. It's Rumpelstiltskin." She panted out, exhausted by the realization.
Nothing happened, except for the ever-shimmering heat.
"Another… King?" He glanced at her, face strained and worn.
"No. Yes. Maybe not. Nevermind." She coughed, gagging. (That did nothing. And this is getting really bad.)
They stumbled down a long passage, the dust churning up at their steps like sand. Her feet were getting uncomfortably hot, socks slipping with warm sweat.
(Goddamnit.)
(No. No way. This IS the tale of Rumpelstiltskin! It has to be! I'm sick of this one!)
She hacked again on the dust, spitting glinting saliva onto the ground, where it sizzled.
(This isn't wheat, it's straw. I know it.)
(The green was… It was a trick. Plus we were coming from the poppies, maybe the Labyrinth was just going from an inorganic material to an organic material. Trying to trick me as it transitioned from Oz to here. That has to be it!)
Besides, straw mazes were a thing. She'd had one at a school fair once. She hadn't gone in, for obvious reasons, and It hadn't looked like this one at all, it had been different, shaped into cubes and bales, but it still counted.
(Well, corn mazes are a thing too, and neither of those facts are helping you, Goldilocks.)
The passage reached another dead end, wind swirling the flakes into a spiral. He wheeled around, sighing breathlessly. Sarah dripped with sweat, trying to think through the heat. Her head was starting to feel cloudy again.
(I wonder if we're getting close to the end. Not that I'd be helping by asking that, but - but knowing there was a gate to go through or a portal or damnit, just a clear thing to solve besides heat would focus me -)
They went back in a slow spiral. He navigated them down a winding path, twisting and turning, with no outlets.
(Maybe this one will be -)
Another dead end.
Sarah stared at the beaming straw murderously, willing it to open, to part and give them passage to some oasis, even back to the snow, or preferably the ice, anything besides gold, blinding, scorching gold. The straw remained solid, glistening, and she dripped, wiping the sweat out of her eyes, daring it to -
He pulled her back, resigned, but she paused.
"What are you…" He panted.
Glistening straw. She blinked. Glistening straw. No, maybe it was a trick of her eyes - the heat, it was making a mirage probably - she blinked again, the light giving her spots, but she was trying to see - it had almost looked like, for a brief second, that -
She licked her lips, watching as a stalk bent slightly.
(No. No, don't - that can't - don't do that.)
"We need to keep -" He didn't look nervous or apprehensive, just tired, and slightly confused at her behavior. Ok, if he hadn't seen it then she didn't need to worry. Probably. Right? Right. Right. She turned around, wordlessly, walking with him, keeping her eyes forward, but against her will, the straw drew her gaze again, from the corner of her vision, and there -
Glistening. Dripping. Bending.
It had to be a mirage. Had to be, because she didn't have the energy, and it was hot, so hot, it wasn't like they needed another challenge to getting though, that would be stupid, and -
Ahead in the path was the opening they'd come through. So they'd go through that and - (and everything would be fine, regular, straight, not-glistening straw at non-bending angles. Just like we left it, just normal, regular heat levels, just regular melting temperature -)
(No no no. Don't think that Williams, don't even think about the word melting -)
They reached the opening, greeting a warping and twisting golden blaze. The straw was melting, sliding and collapsing in on itself, bending as it warped, the ground no longer completely solid, rocks and dust blurring together and morphing horribly, sliding in on each other, pulling and twisting into a vat of melting, oozing, gold -
"Well, shit." She closed her eyes. Opened them. Then blinked, hard, for good measure. Maybe that was another mirage. Maybe the Labyrinth wasn't trying to melt her. Maybe the molten floor and the deformed straw wasn't really there, maybe the heat wasn't really there, maybe -
Something made a noise by her ear - right next to it, it was small and tiny, but she still turned as it happened, a high pitched 'gloop' and -
and then her shoulder was on fire.
(SHIT)
Sarah suddenly didn't have the capacity to make sounds anymore, the pain fixating her brain, robbing her mouth of sound. The melting gold sunk through her shirt, dissolving part of the sleeve, searing into her, simply ate away at everything, into her skin, and she didn't have words, just a strangled keen that was escaping her lips -
He was grabbing her, hauling her away, wiping at the liquid fire with the cloak, taking away skin and cloth, he was saying something but she couldn't hear, gritting her teeth against the throbbing heat of her shoulder, which was now releasing damp warmth. She glanced at it, the wound small, only about the size of a quarter, but already seeping her shirt with blood. Through the haze of pain and heat she realized they needed to move, to get out, to do something -
"Gotta - go -" She wheezed, eyes streaming. "We gotta -"
He stared at her, his own eyes wide, wheeled around, searching - he turned to a far passage, taking a step, but hesitating.
Only parts of the floor were melted, some patches stuck out like chunks of ice in a sea, but they didn't have the time, she grabbed his wrist and pulled at him, but he shoved her behind, stepping ahead to guide her. They needed to go, go fast, faster and faster but carefully, oh so carefully, the straw bending around them, losing form, losing space -
(Will the Labyrinth dissolve around us? Can we get out that way?)
(Even if it did, we'd be dead before then.) She realized. If they were inside the thing that was melting, as it was melting, then their chances of escape -
Sarah clutched at her shoulder, the blood and sweat stinging and seeping through her fingers. They stepped carefully as she tried to squint down into the searing heat and blinding light of the gold, her foot slipping as the rocks melted under her -
He grabbed her, leaping into the new passage and landing with a soft squelch. She saw his face grimace as droplets of gold flew up onto him from the impact and tried to say something, to ask if he was all right, but this path was even less concrete than the outlet behind them, the solid patches father between, and even those had rivets of dripping liquid gold straw already running onto them, carving into their surfaces.
It was like watching butter, butter caving in on itself, the heat radiating from everything, blurring their vision. He glanced back at her, then shifted his wrist, gripping her hand firmly, his long fingers wrapping around hers, and they were cool against her sweaty palm. He pulled her forward, leading her on -
(Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. Why is this happening. This wasn't the deal with Rumpelstiltskin!)
Her brain blurred, mentally sweating along with the rest of her as she tired to think past the hot pain and the warm blood and stinging, salty, sweat which was now thickening, caking itself.
(No no Rumpelstiltskin didn't control heat, this wasn't his MO, he didn't have a golden inferno if you lost, he took your firstborn child -)
(so why -)
(But the other Labyrinths didn't follow the story completely, they followed your logic. Remember what you said to him at the beginning? Fairy tales are more like - life lessons. But… With my logic, then those lessons - changed? The poppies had snow because it never made sense to me; why someone would wake up in the cold when people fall asleep in blizzards all the time? The mushrooms were ensnaring because I never understood how a ring of mushrooms could hold a five-foot-plus human, the Snow Queen didn't deal with memories, it was about realizing the truth and reaching through to someone who was blinded by anger -)
So what was the logic of Rumpelstiltskin? He could turn things into gold…
(And I never understood why he never had any true power. He could make straw into gold but he couldn't even take a baby that was rightfully his from a queen? A little fairy that could turn things into gold… Like this whole Labyrinth…)
But how much power was that, realistically? If all you could do was turn straw into gold, then what would that give you?
(A lot of money, essentially. A lot of gold. A kingdom of wealth. Rumpelstiltskin's power is wealth, and a maze based off that story would be about him, not the miller's daughter. So this Labyrinth is… Straw. Gold straw, to represent Rumple. And the danger is -)
(But a golden Labyrinth wouldn't be that safe, not in the heat, baking away, the gold building and building and nothing but gold and hot, burning, heat -)
(Ok fine!) She slid again and he grabbed her, pulling her forward, hugging her shoulders and she tried not to gasp as his fingers brushed the burn. He turned back around, looking for the next patch and Sarah glanced behind them -
The walls and floor were almost completely liquid now, no longer recognizable as a Labyrinth. A stagnant river, oozing towards them slowly, trickling past, the straw in their wake sticking up in various stages of collapse.
(We're going to fall into it. Fall into it and burn alive, entombed like Pompeii and -)
(Come on, you useless idiot. He's doing all the work. Rumpelstiltskin. You think this Labyrinth is going to let you go without solving a riddle first? That's not how a story works, Sarah, and this place is completely and entirely about that. Rumpelstiltskin, he was a fairy that granted a wish, a foolish wish and then demanded a child -)
(That… That sounds very familiar.)
"Rumpelstiltskin." Her voice was a wheeze as he leapt forward, guiding her. The heat was fuming up from below as the liquid gold trickled past, the sweat now in her eyes. The Labyrinth around them bubbled, tiny molten drops landing on her jeans and she shook out her legs wildly as it burned through the fabric, the heat not quite reaching her bare legs, but she could feel the hungry warmth searing at her denim, creating tiny holes.
(Fuck me. I have to do something. Besides creating this fucking monstrosity of a Labyrinth, I mean. I created it, there's gotta be an exit here too, right?)
The path ahead was collapsing into the lake in front of them, the straw running into it, there almost was no path, just a demented seeping golden glop -
"Rumpelstiltskin… You've never heard of him?" She coughed out desperately. (Come on, come on, brain!)
He shook his head slowly, facing ahead, looking for the next solid patch.
"There was a girl who was trapped in a room of straw, which is what this is, basically." Sarah gestured wildly. "She was trapped and she needed to turn the straw into gold, but she couldn't."
"Why did she go in the first place if she couldn't -" He began, glancing back at her.
(He's - paying attention. Even during all this. Listening to my stupid ramblings even as we go down in flames. Get it together. Help him, you idiot.)
She felt like she was inhaling pure steam, her lungs trying to filter out microscopic hot metal.
(Talk faster, breathe later.) "A fairy appeared and spun the princess's straw into gold, for her, but it was at a price. But she ran out of things to pay with so he said he'd take her child, but then she decided after that she didn't want to -"
He muttered something that sounded a lot like the words 'Cheating whore' but Sarah ignored him. They stepped onto a thin ledge, and he braced himself against another, too-tiny solid clump of gold, pivoting them along. She forged ahead. "So he said if she could guess his name, then she could keep the kid, and she guessed and guessed but nothing worked. So then she spied on him and heard him singing his name, which was -"
He muttered something dark again. A larger solid piece was ahead, already glistening and quickly melting, but he moved to it, pulling them. Her feet stuck slightly as they moved.
"The name was Rumpelstiltskin." She continued desperately. "Does that… Mean anything to you? Give you any ideas!? I mean, you steal kids, you grant wishes, you -"
There was a corner ahead.
(One last corner, come on, be the way out, be the escape, I know the name, I know the story, I know it, please -)
He picked her up by the waist, holding her to his side, and jumped, landing on another ledge, slipping slightly, and she fought for the grip of the ground and him, holding onto his arms, her fingers like claws. They both balanced out, and then -
A dead end. Everything ended. The patches of solid gold, the river coagulating into a pool of oily heat, bubbling. The melting straw was still a wall, like a row of thin metal candles, trickling down onto each other, falling, but still too high to go over, and beyond that more straw, a solid wall of it, sizzling…
He turned to her, not desperate, not scared, not anything that she was. He was just calm, only panting slightly. "Sadly, I've never heard of him before, and we've run out of dead ends."
Sarah looked at him, trying to understand.
They were going to die.
(No! Get a grip!)
When they'd gotten to the end of the crystals, to the end of the well, there was something she'd had to do. A gate, an entrance.
(Of course. Because it's not just about solving a Labyrinth, it's about completing the story, the riddle or challenge or what the hell ever. So I have to solve it to get though this place. Fuck. I've been trying to solve it the whole time! I don't know it!) "I can't - I don't -"
The ledge sweat under them, her feet sticking slightly again, and then she slipped, just a little -
He grabbed her arm, pulling her close, pressing her to his side, wrapping the cloak around both of them as the heat popped and dripped around. "You will."
"But -" She felt the tears of frustration and heat against her eyes, the blood pounding in her head and it was too hot, too hot to breathe and even while she panicked he was -
(Keeping me safe. He's keeping me safe and I'm letting us die -)
(He's a king, he's leading and I'm useless I don't know what I'm doing -)
He was leaned towards her, his cool fingers turning her head, and he pulled her ear towards his lips, murmuring, a deep quiet purr that made her hair stand up on end. (Why is that - is he -)
"Is there anything else to the story?" He murmured into her ear.
Her heart jolted. "N-" Her tongue felt numb. "No!" Sarah thought it through again, then turned to face him, but he didn't pull back, just stared at her intently and very closely, their foreheads practically touching. She closed her eyes, trying to concentrate past his gaze. "It's got to be Rumpelstiltskin, there's not any other stories with gold like this, it's gotta be him. I got the ending, I don't have a first born or anything like that, except Toby, and I only promised him to you, that's not - the point is, I know this one, it can't be any other story because no other ones make sense, they don't match. So I got the story, and I got the name -"
His hand gripped her shoulder, just avoiding her burn, like he was trying to squeeze the answer out of her. "Whose name?"
"The - Rumpelstiltskin's! If this is his Labyrinth, then his name should stop all of -"
"No fairy named that rules here."
Sarah resisted the urge to reply 'So!?' and concentrated on his words.
(No fairy named that rules here… What?)
His eyes held hers. Did he have an answer? An idea? Was he trying to tell her something? If it's not Rumpelstiltskin's Labyrinth…
(Well, it's not Midas.)
(No, I don't think that's it either…)
(If a name is how I get out of here, then to brake out of a Rumpelstiltskin's Labyrinth I need to use the name of -)
'No fairy named that -'
(Named… It's got to be a name, a fairy's name… But who's name, Sarah?
It might be a themed Labyrinth, but Rumple doesn't rule it…)
(I do. But - but I know my own name!)
(But I don't rule here. I just… I just control it.)
'No fairy named that rules here…'
(He does… He's the ruler…)
"Wait - so -" (Fuck.) Yes. Sarah swallowed again. Of course. It wasn't Rumpelstiltskin's name that would solve this. It was his. Rumple didn't rule over a kingdom, he did. Rumple the fairy wasn't real, had no magic here, but there was an elf, a Goblin King, who was very real, and he was in front of her. It was his kingdom, her ideas, and his name. No problem. She could say his name. She wasn't afraid of it. Names had no power.
Especially not over her.
(Shut up.) She opened her mouth. Air came out.
(Ok, come on, Williams. It's just a name. Just a name and this is fixed.)
(Right? Right, of course. Of course. So, just say it.) "… Sonofabitch." Sarah breathed. (Ok, now, that's not it. That's just juvenile.)
She felt her chest twinge. (No. No, do not panic. It's just a name. I can say this.)
Oh, this was so stupid. So typically stupid. Why was she suddenly frozen? She could say all the other names she knew. She tried again, feeling like an idiot, closing her eyes as he stared at her. "Toby. Hoggle. Ludo. Sir Didymus… Ambrosias… Goblins…. Goblin King." (Closer. Almost there.) "Ja- Jaa- Jasshole." Sarah breathed out shakily. Jasshole!? What was wrong with her!? Why, why why was she panicking about this!?
Sarah felt tears behind her eyes, hot tears against a hot storm as the heat surged against them. It was just a name, just a word really, one word, and she'd be out of this stupid, hot, dusty golden storm. Just a name, a name like any other name. A name, a name, but it was his name, and if she said it would…
It would be her last resort.
She'd stood in front of her mirror, night after night, sitting, staring, waiting. Just waiting. At first she was patient. Then she made up excuses. Then she was anxious.
And then she'd been scared.
And finally, Sarah had become desperate. Truly desperate. And she'd begun to try everything, and she knew that already, so why was this memory coming back to her so strongly now? Why was it here? Why was it choking her?
She'd wished and she'd planned, calling out, begging, pleading, calling Didymus, Ludo, Hoggle…
(But I never said his. Never. Not -)
She tried again, and her throat closed around the word, trapping it.
(But this is now, this isn't in the past, we're going to die if I don't -)
But the past held her voice.
She'd never said his name because that was the one thing she'd had left to try. If all the spells and the wishing didn't work, if she couldn't get herself across, then maybe his name would do something. If she had nothing left then she had his name, and it was his. It hadn't been in the book, she hadn't dreamed it, it was real. But she'd never said it because she was afraid - so afraid - paralyzed to look inside of Schrödinger's box, because that was her last idea. And if she said it and he didn't come - if she'd wished for him and he hadn't appeared - so she hadn't, she hadn't even thought it, she hadn't used it because his name was a memory, a memory and a hope that she'd locked away safe and hidden. Away from everything because she didn't want to use it, to give it power that it might or might not have. Because sometimes wondering forever was better than actually hearing it fail. Because speaking his name was the last wish she had, and she didn't want it to -
If he was this world, if he represented this world, and his name wouldn't bring him to her, hers would collapse. So she never said it, even when she'd seen him, even when he'd been in danger, because he was real, he was real and he was here, and that was enough. But if he left her again; if he disappeared or she got lost and she'd wasted the only thing she had left… The only thing she could remember him by, the only power she had over him, the only thing to call him, to summon him -
So I used other things. Other things because that was safe, and that was what I needed.
Your highness, your majesty, Goblin King. His name was like a wish, and she didn't need to wish, because she'd done it, on her own, without his name she'd made it here, and he was beside her and -
Sarah's mouth was numb, hot and runny and she couldn't remember how to make sound. She clutched her chest, which felt flat and empty and hot, so hot -
(Stop thinking about that, it's not the past anymore, just calm down - just say his name, just ask - just ask and I will move the stars -)
Sarah grabbed onto the hands that steadied her, that held her up, taking them off her shoulders. She latched on tight, he was asking something but she couldn't listen. She dug her fingers into his wrists as hard as she could, despite the pain in her hands.
"Jar… Jerry." She kept her eyes closed. She tried again. "Jared."
(He's here, he's right here and he's real, I can feel him and he is real, and so is this heat and the pain in my shoulder. This is real place I am not crazy and I am not alone and he is not leaving me because I will find him, I will hunt him and I will find him, I will hold onto him in a storm, in the ice and the dark, and I will never lose him or this place again -)
(Him - he -)
(His name is mine and I will not lose it - I will not lose -)
Her shoe slid on the surface, and part of the gold finally melted away, her foot slipping out. Sarah lost her balance, bending back with it, her hands still holding onto him, the heel of her boot swinging wide, pulling her - the smell of burnt rubber now mixed in with the heat - it was all heat -
Her weak, sweating hands slipped, scrabbling at him, sliding over his skin, and she was in space, with the blazing sun and the blazing gold -
"Jareth!" She screamed, falling back.
Or maybe it wasn't a scream, maybe it was a whisper as she fought past herself for the name, dragging it out by the ghost of a sound. But she'd felt it against her lips, she'd said it -
Sarah was falling, grabbing at something - she swung her leg back, stamping into the ground, hard. Trying to move forward again, to hold on - to get back onto solid -
- and then the world broke in half.