Chapter Twenty-Six: Facets.
Jareth had still been reluctant to send her home, but Sarah had been insistent. There was too much that she wanted to think about to talk any further or to stick around and listen to his mildly toned-down innuendo for the rest of the night. Every time she was with him it always seemed like one new fact would come out that would force her to reevaluate her opinion of him. This time it was several facts, and they made her uneasy.
With a sigh Sarah sat down on the floor and leaned back against the side of her bed. Life was never easy and rarely ever decided to be simple, but this was… she wasn't too sure what to think at the moment. With just the slightest turn of her head she looked out the window, her eyes searching out the cold winter stars. All her life she had felt as though the stars held answers, as though they could guide and protect her. But tonight they looked worn, like the city smog had finally caught up to them; they were chocked and fading. There would be no comfort or counsel from the skies tonight; they looked as tired as she felt. Another sigh escaped her lips and she finally let her wandering thoughts turn inward, to replay the conversations that she had participated in earlier that evening.
The first thing Jareth had done that sent her reeling that night was his adamant denial that they were strangers. He had leaned in close, one arm above her shoulder while the other trapped her hand against the chair. In that moment her world had narrowed until there was nothing left but the two of them, trying to stare each other down. His lips had parted and whispered words that were full of conviction, of promise, and they had caused everything within her to shiver. Anything but strangers, he had said. Well, perhaps he was right, maybe they weren't strangers but they certainly didn't know one another.
But after those heated words he had suddenly gone blank, as though the mind had left the body. Jareth's eyes had gone dead, like the darkened windows of an empty house, but he hadn't moved an inch, as if his body had frozen in its very last action and absolutely refused to move until it received instructions to do so. Sarah had never seen someone caught that deeply in thought; it was weird to be so close to him physically, and yet feel as though he were really miles away from her. When he had finally come to he had been polite and apologetic, and had almost seemed like a completely different person.
Nervously, Sarah's fingers began to play with the frayed edges of her rug as she recalled the next part of the evening which had bothered her.
Jareth had freely admitted that he hadn't known how she had gotten into his world. She supposed it should have bothered her more that she didn't know how it had happened and if it could happen again, but she was still stuck on the fact that he had told the truth when it had not really been to his advantage. Deep down Sarah had always felt as though he were a liar; he may have never actually said anything that wasn't true, but the sheer amount of information that he was constantly withholding made her feel justified in the opinion. Jareth was a liar through omission, but tonight he had given her the straight truth: he didn't know, and chances were he wasn't going to know until it happened again and he was actually awake to witness it. He had admitted a weakness, a vulnerability that she had assumed his pride would force him to overlook. In the end, it almost made him seem stronger, that he could look his shortcomings in the eye and not feel as though he had failed in any way whatsoever.
'It must be nice to be so confident in yourself,' Sarah thought while twirling a stray thread through her fingers. 'Even when he doesn't know something, he still admits it in a way that makes him sound as though he were completely in control.'
At this point her mind desperately wanted to blank, because the last two topics of the evening had shaken her badly.
On that night in her parents' bedroom, what felt like eons ago, Jareth had stood in front of the windows, outlined against the darkness by flashes of magic and an inner luminescence. He had been drenched in velvet, leather, and amour, all of it looking even darker than the night sky when compared to his unearthly paleness; he had been a vision as terrifying as he was alluring. She had never seen anyone like him, and yet… something about him had seemed familiar. Perhaps it was just a spark set deep in his hypnotic eyes or simply the way he carried himself, but there was something about Jareth that struck a chord deep within her. Perhaps, on a subconscious level, she had always known that more ran between them than simply the game that she had been forced to play. Even after she had regained her memories of the Labyrinth and realized that he had loved her, something had still been missing. Like an explanation, for starters. Why had he loved her? Was it possible for anyone to fall in love with someone so quickly, or had he felt that spark of recognition at their first meeting too?
After tonight's talk she now had an answer. Something did run between them. She had no idea what and probably wouldn't until he got around to explaining it, but Sarah and Jareth were connected. She wasn't entirely sure what that was supposed to mean or what it entailed, but taken at a very broad angle it could explain why she had felt as though she had already known Jareth when they had first met. But then again, it might not explain anything. How long had they been connected?
"I will admit that I have known you longer than you have known me," the words surfaced from the back of her mind. His tone had been quiet and tender, but they had still forced suspicion into her. How much longer, and why? Had Jareth been like some sort of deranged guardian angel, haunting her every step? Or did he mean it in terms more relative to how long they had known each other already; that perhaps he had only seen her a few days before she had called upon him? With great dread, Sarah got the feeling that a handful of days would not be considered longer to a man who had probably already seen hundreds of years.
But even these thoughts did not bother her as deeply as what they had discussed next.
She had known for days that Jareth had taken away most her memories of the Labyrinth and then slowly had given them back to her. In truth, it hadn't really bothered her until they had talked about. He had had his reasons, explained them rather well really, but that didn't make it right. Sarah could understand that he had done what he thought was right given the circumstances, and that it all came down to a matter of opinion as to whether his actions had been appropriate. His side of the argument was clear, and he believed in it whole-heartedly. That was probably what made it so painful; he didn't think that she had the capacity to change. Jareth might as well have come right out and said that no matter how much time had passed he believed that she would have always been a callous and ungrateful little girl. That in four years she wouldn't have realized everything that had happened in those thirteen hours had been the results of her own actions, that she had really only won because he had been blinded by affection. Jareth either though very little of her emotional development, or had absolutely no idea how humans grew up.
And what gave him the right anyway? How dare he just assume he could go in and mess around with her brain! Not for the first time Sarah was left to wonder how much power Jareth truly had at the tips of his fingers. He had erased nearly every memory she had had about the Underground, and if he hadn't given them back she would still be walking around thinking it had been nothing more than a really good dream. If he could do that, what else was in his power? What else had he already done or was prepared to do?
Everything Jareth had done that night had changed her opinions about him, and strengthened one that she had been beginning to forget. He had the capacity to be a gentleman, to be a joker, he could be an interesting companion, but he could also be dangerous. There were so many sides to him, so many facets to his personality that Sarah began to wonder which he was like the most. Was he the arrogant Goblin King, the mischievous flirter, the quiet gentleman, or the dangerous creature with flashing eyes? A sigh escaped her lips as she continued to think, more personalities presenting themselves by the second. He was all of them, she realized with a start. It was as if he were presenting her with a multitude of masks, each one entirely different from any of the others, and yet they were all his true face.
With a groan, Sarah brought her forehead to rest against her knees. Why were men so confusing?
Patience was easy to plan, but dreadfully hard to practice. Jareth hadn't wanted to let her go, not after they had actually started to open up to each other. He had promised himself that he was going to give Sarah the time and space she needed in order to return his affections, but every time they were together she would say or so something that just made him want to take her home an never let her go.
"Sarah's a woman, not a stray pet, you fool," he chided himself quietly. But every parting got harder to bear; how long would it be before instinct won out over reasoning? Still, he would try, he owed her at least that much of a chance.
For a while Jareth tried going back to sleep; exhausted though he was, he was simply too awake to actually achieve any rest. 'Just as well,' he thought while slipping back into his shirt, 'I mentioned the connection and Sarah is, no doubt, curious.' Quiet steps echoes through the halls of his tiny sanctuary, reminding him, with a mix of both joy and despair, that he was completely alone. "I might as well brush up on all the facts myself," Jareth murmured to himself, stepping into a library that had not seen him since the days in which he had set out to shift his kingdom away from the human realm.
Falling asleep hadn't been a conscious decision, but Sarah's mind had worked itself to exhaustion, running around in circles and trailing after questions she had no answers to. Eventually she must have just nodded off. With a groan she rolled over, wanting desperately to curl back into her warm sheets and sleep for another hour or so. She'd been having such a nice dream too, something about chocolate cake and coffee. As Sarah burrowed deeper into her nest of blankets the thought occurred to her that she couldn't remember having ever gotten off the floor.
Trepidation never even registered, somehow she just knew she was about to see something disagreeable and worrying about it wasn't going to make a difference. With a forlorn little sigh she lifted herself off her stomach, sat up, and quickly wrapped herself in the coversheet because her room was freezing.
Jareth was sitting in the corner of her room, legs propped against her vanity but angled in such a way that he was still facing her bed. In his lap he held a tome that was nearly as thick as her hand was long, and on the table rested an ornate cup of something that she hoped was not alcohol. Sarah had seen many sides to him already, but she was praying to put 'smashed-out-of-mind' off for as long as possible.
Her gaze flickered around the rest of the room, making sure everything else was as it should be. Nothing, other than the obvious, appeared to be out of order aside from the fact that her window was open and it was snowing outside (and, therefore, on her windowsill as well). When she finally brought herself away from the thought of there being weather in her room, her gaze was met by Jareth's blue eyes before they flickered back down to his book. "You sleep with your mouth open, and yet you neither drool nor snore. It's rather adorable," he said by way of greeting.
It was sort of pointless to ask, but it felt obligatory. "What are doing here?" Sarah questioned in a tired voice.
"Reading," was his automatic reply, which he hadn't even looked up to give.
"I can see that," she replied sarcastically, "but I'm pretty sure there are better places to do it, places where you might even be welcomed."
Jareth looked up for a moment. "Is your disdain truly that great?"
She paused for a moment. He had been polite and honest last night when he hadn't had to, and she had decided to give him a chance but he was making it very hard to remain calm. Once again he had invaded the privacy of her room, only this time he had turned it into an icebox as well. "I'm trying to figure out if you're being an ass on purpose or if you really are just eccentric."
Jareth let out a velvety laugh and set his book aside, a loud 'whump' followed by some jingling coming from the general direction of her vanity. "I leave the decision entirely up to you, my dear. I'm sure you wouldn't be wrong in either case."
He just looked so damn happy, she thought. "Why are reading in my room?" Sarah asked with an amused shake of her head; this man sure had gall.
For a minute there was silence as Jareth thought and took a slow sip from his cup. "It seemed like a good idea at the time," he finally conceded. "Better than an empty stone library, at any rate." She opened her mouth to say something, but he cut her off with a wave of his hand. "I have not slept in three days, Sarah; I am running on determination alone," he paused. "And copious amounts of coffee," he added after taking another sip from his cup. "So forgive me if my judgment has seemed less than logical."
For the first time that morning, Sarah really took in his appearance. Jareth was wearing the same clothing as he had been last night, and it bore the wrinkles of slouched studying. 'He must have been reading for hours,' she thought. His face was no paler than usual, but his eyes did seem heavier lidded, and there was no arguing that his voice was more of a quiet intonation than his usual sharp speech.
"I thought we could invite your family to go for a walk today," Jareth interrupted her perusal, "or perhaps a hike. A hike would be good, out in the fresh air where…" he trailed off, rubbing a hand over his eyes.
"You could stay awake?" Sarah supplied. "A hike sounds fine I guess, but don't you think you ought to sleep first?"
"It won't work," he mumbled around the rim of his cup, "I've already tried that and it's too late anyway."
Sarah sat back and began to wonder exactly where the conversation had stopped making sense. With a groan she realized that he was too far gone to question any further, let alone take a hike. As he stared fixedly out the window, she wondered what to do with a grown man who was practically delusion, he was so exhausted.
Underneath her, the bed seemed to radiate a comforting warmth. She shot a worried glance up at Jareth again. No man had ever slept in her bed before, but…
Well, it was only sleeping in the extremely literal sense.
A/N: Bleh, nowhere near where I wanted this. Anyway nice and long, though I'm kinda sorry that more didn't happen. Sarah had a lot of thinking to do.
An emphatic thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far, and an extra special thank you to all the usual suspects (you know who you are; we talk on a weekly basis).
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Disclaimer: Labyrinth, including all characters and concepts recognizable as having come from said movie, does not belong to me.