Waking
"Waking up from a deep sleep, I always seem to be discovering life for the first time."
― Marty Rubin
She awoke on the hill of so many years ago. The sky was shades of orange, pink, and brown. The tree still gnarled and black but sparkling. The Castle Beyond the Goblin City was in fact in the distance. She lay in the scrub. Fingers curling around the dirt and straw. Feeling the dust as it blew over her, warm and dry, a welcome relief. Shivering as she touched upon the dream, she could still feel the chill of it. Pieces of it, were still vivid in her mind, fading fast. But what did it mean? How, and why, was she back here of all places?
This time, Jareth was nowhere to be seen. Sarah was not sorry about this fact. She was unceremoniously laying amongst the dry brush, still shivering; though the warm wind began to thaw her frozen bones. She closed her eyes, they were still heavy and slow. Her head and body still aching from both the cold and the tumultuous nature of her fall. With her eyes closed she was able to focus: First on the gently wind warming her numb extremities. Then, the smell of the Labyrinth warm and fresh like summer but also ancient, the smell of rock and dust also strong on the air. Finally, moving her mind to focus on her dream.
What had it meant? How had it brought her here? She remembered the screech of the owl and sound of its wings. Jareth. He used to keep watch as an owl. She remembered seeing him transform the night she had wished Toby away. She remembered seeing an owl from time to time standing silent sentinel: when she called on her friends to visit, or when she lost herself in a daydream, or when she woke from a deep-deep sleep. That part clicked in her brain, if it had in fact been the King of the Goblins, then this location was not so farfetched. Why had he appeared? And had he saved her or stolen her away? Sarah could recall the embrace of someone, someone cold and dark. Had that figure been a construct of a dream sent to her by the king again? Or something else entirely? Remembering the absolute comfort, she found in his arms, the inevitability of whatever would pass between them, she could not be sure. And the cold, the finality of it… Her limbs were beginning to thaw, but at the memory of the cold, an involuntary shudder passed through her.
Sarah took a deep breath; calming herself and focusing on the warmth again. She was dead-tired, but the thought of sleep was terrifying after the dream that… brought her here? She was having a difficult time putting the pieces together. If Jareth were behind this, was it because she had beaten the Labyrinth years before? But why had it felt as though the owl had saved her from something? She groaned with the effort of it all.
The Jareth she remembered, was the man from the shattered Escher room so many years ago. Angry, as he claimed to be everything her perception commanded him to be, pleading as he offered himself and her dreams to her at the price of her obedience, and the disappointment on his face as she had refused him. She had been young; thus, the full weight of his words had escaped her. However, even if she had realized his offer fully, she had not been ready for what he had offered. Sarah had mulled over those words for over a decade now, viewed them through a lens of maturity. Back then how could she have been expected to have any respect for Jareth? He had been dangerous and powerful, yet too aware of it. He had been an absolute show-off and a cheater.
Yet she knew now, in rejecting his offer, she had utterly crushed a man. And while he was a petulant man, who for his sheer power was so insecure that he had hoped to tempt a 16-year-old girl, he obviously had feelings. She groaned, leave it to her to have grown some empathy for the cad. He had tried to entice Sarah, with her selfish dreams, into worshipful submission. "Just fear me, love me, do as I say, and I will be your slave" the words rang in her ears. She blushed at the thought of Jareth being her slave; ignoring for the moment the price of her love, her fear, and her obedience; even at 16 she had found him attractive. However, now she hoped that if she saw him there'd be a little less glitter, at that she chuckled to herself. Wasn't any worse than some of the things she had dated. At 16 she wouldn't have known what to do with him. Now… Now the thought made her smirk.
"Well, well, well, the Labyrinth is full of unexpected things, but this… what would you say? … Takes the cake!" She could feel the smile pulling the corners of his mouth "Sarah, my dear, you positively look like the cat who ate the canary."
She gasped. Her eyes shooting open at the shock of his voice appearing out of nowhere. With the emphasis he put on certain words, it absolutely seemed as if he had an idea of where her mind had wandered. It was a good sign that her eyes could in fact shoot open. But now her body was betraying her in other ways, she could feel the flush spread across her cheeks and out to her extremities. Welp, she was certainly warm now. And perhaps, just perhaps, she might be able to get some answers out of him.
She blinked slowly. There standing over her, silhouetted against the sky, was a man. She could see that his hair was still shoulder-length and streaky blond. His amulet still glinted around his neck. His shirt was a gentle grey, still open down the front, and loose-sleeved. Over it he wore an auburn leather jacket. He was shod in boots, over dark pants, and on his hands were gloves. He was, in fact, a little more understated than she had remembered of her last time in the Labyrinth, but if what he had said was true, much of her time here had been constructed around her, that made sense. He looked a little tired even. How much could she really trust though? He had cheated her before, manipulated her. She sighed dramatically. Here she was laying on the ground, trying to formulate some tart response, just to let him know that he still had no power over her. "Being beat once wasn't enough for you? You had to bring me back here for round two?" At her words his eyes flashed, and lips pursed. So, he did not like being reminded of his defeat.
"I can assure you, my dear Sarah, I did not bring you here to run my Labyrinth again" He offered her a hand with his words. She took it and he firmly but gently brought her to a sitting position.
"But you did bring me here?" She dropped his hand immediately and looked at him now, accusatorily. "Send me back, now." Her words were firm, a command. She was not sure if pleading with him would work. Past Sarah would have been to proud, adult Sarah knew how to use her right words. "Please, send me back. It's not too late." She would not let him see her cry, though she could feel tears welling up. Something in Jareth's face softened at that, he lowered himself to eye level and looked deep into her eyes.
"I cannot." His voice was soft, almost tender, and spiked with a tinge of regret. The pitch of his voice rose changed with his next few words entreating her. "Do you not understand, that I cannot." Not a question. It was a desperate plea. She could feel the truth in his words, and while she could not trust him fully. There was no lie in his words. He reached out as though he were about to push her mussed hair back. He stopped himself short and took a deep breath before speaking again. "It's a pity Sarah, I want nothing more than to send you back to your life above." Rising abruptly with those words, he reached out his hand to her once more. She took his hand.
A grin of recognition at his own cleverness spread across his face as he began to recite, "Come away, oh human chil-" He paused, looked her up and down, lavishing his gaze upon her body. His eyes lingering just a little too long. If it was possible, his grin grew even wider. He waggled his eyebrows at her as he spoke next. "That poem, is not exactly fitting anymore." With that last remark he hoisted her up and began to lead her towards the entrance of the Labyrinth.