Chapter II
Her head throbbed with pain.
Memories swam to the surface of her consciousness,
tormenting her before vanishing into the depths once more.
A thunderstorm…white owls…the cries of an infant…great,
looming walls of stone…the palpable
blackness of the oubliette…leering dancers at a masquerade…an impossible
room…crystals bursting
like bubbles…the hospital…her father's death…his graveside…the terrible
loneliness…sharp
pain…menacing eyes…a threat…a deafening "crack" inside her head…nothingness.
Sarah whimpered in pain and confusion.
The Goblin King sat by her side, watching. Waiting.
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An eternity later, she woke. Her eyes tried in vain to adjust to the light. She closed them again. The pain was too much. She slept.
She never saw the little goblin that scurried from her room, running as fast as its tiny legs would allow towards the throne room. The girl had come around, if only for a short time. She would live. The goblin smiled, baring yellowed teeth. The king would be pleased.
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Sarah woke again. This time, she was able to focus.
*Where am I?*
She looked at her surroundings. She was in a large
room, the walls and floor made of stone, with a
vaulted ceiling. The floor was covered with plush carpets, and on the
walls hung ornate tapestries. An
intricately crafted chandelier was suspended from the apex of the dome
above her. She sat up, clutching the post of the canopied bed for support,
closing her eyes until the world ceased to spin. When it ended, she rose
from the bed.
Very slowly, she made her way past the carved furniture
that filled the room, pausing to rest against a chair along the way. Finally,
she reached her goal: a bank of windows that ran the length of the far
wall. Leaning against the casement, she looked out.
"Oh, dear God…"
Her entire view was filled by the Labyrinth. She
slid to the floor and began to cry.
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Jareth sighed, turning his weary eyes from the sight
within the now-dark crystal. He released his hold on the clear globe, and
it vanished a split-second before crashing upon the floor. He'd been keeping
a close eye on Sarah through the crystal since first receiving news that
she'd wakened that first time. What he had just seen did not bode well.
He had hoped that she would be more accepting of her surroundings.
*After all, I did save her life. That creature she calls Michael
very nearly killed her. He's a
fool--Sarah deserves better than the likes of him.* He sighed again,
gazing out the throne room window. *Hope is such a frail thing. I wonder
why I bother with it…* He rose from his throne and strode out the door,
heading towards Sarah's chambers.
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Sarah sat curled up in a high-backed chair, staring
into the fireplace. She wished with all her might
that a fire was burning in it. *It's freezing in here. Wish I had a
wrap or something…* The nightdress she was wearing was of a light fabric,
very delicate. At first, she'd assumed it was silk, but it was much finer
than that. She'd finally given up her attempt to identify the material.
*Well, whatever it is--it's beautiful.* She shivered. *But still a little
too thin for this kind of place…*
She sat for a time, just staring. Until a disturbing
thought crept into her mind. *Just how did I come to be wearing this?*
She furrowed her brows in thought. Slowly, a smile appeared on her face,
and laughter bubbled up from within. The idea was so preposterous, it was
funny.
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Jareth paused, his ears picking up an unfamiliar
sound. *Laughter?*
It was coming from the room Sarah was in. Her laughter
was throaty, and a shiver ran down Jareth's spine when he heard it. As
he pushed open the door, he wondered if bringing her to his castle had
been the wisest choice…
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The door behind Sarah creaked, and she whirled around.
It was Jareth. He was dressed in his usual black,
but now he was wearing an ivory-colored poet
shirt--cut low enough to reveal his amulet--and a burgundy brocade
waistcoat. There were traces of
burgundy in his blond tresses.
"What do you want, Jareth?"
He stared at her levelly for a moment. "I came only
to see how you were faring." His gaze drifted over her, finally returning
to her face. "You're looking quite--well."
"Really? Because you look exactly like I feel. And
it's not pretty."
"To be truthful, Sarah, my haggard appearance is
due to the fact that I haven't been sleeping."
"And why is that?"
"Well, you see--someone has been in my room."
"Who--?" Then it hit her.
That infernal smile reappeared on his face. "I shall
leave you know, Sarah, so that you may dress. Dinner will be served within
the hour." With that, he turned and disappeared through the doorway. All
she could do was sit, fuming.
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Sarah's eyes searched the room. *Just what am I supposed
to wear? There's nothing in here!* Her eyes wandered to the bed. It was
large, with intricate carvings decorating each post. Midnight blue velvet
composed the canopy and drapes, and black linens covered the bed itself.
She shook her head. *I can't believe that I actually slept in that bed.*
Jareth's bed.
Suddenly, an unheeded vision filled her mind's-eye.
Two pale bodies entwined, tangled in the dark sheets
they lay on…slender fingers caressing supple curves…dark hair spilling
over to brush against soft lips…. She blushed, closing her eyes. "Concentrate,
Sarah. You have to find something to wear." She turned away from the bed,
only then opening her eyes. And gasped. "How does he do that?!"
It was a dress, one the color of the sea after a
storm. Made from the same mysterious fabric as her nightdress and edged
with the finest lace she had ever lain eyes on, it was breathtaking. She
lifted the dress from where it lay draped over the back of a chair, discovering
that Jareth had provided her with everything, from undergarments to matching
slippers, the latter of which she found on the floor, hidden by the folds
of the skirt.
She smiled, changing into the gown. When she was
dressed, she turned to find another gift awaiting discovery-a small ebony
box, its lid inlaid with silver to form a miniature Labyrinth. Inside,
she found a silver hair comb and a triple-strand necklace of black pearls.
In the bottom lay on note written on yellow parchment:
I realize that I failed
to prepare you with
the proper clothing that
you will require.
I sincerely hope that
these gifts will rectify
the mistake. Accept them
without fear. I
expect no retribution.
It was unsigned. As though it needed to be.
As she placed the final touches on her appearance,
Sarah hummed a tune that she had not heard in
many a day--a tune that recalled images of masqued dancers, a lovely
silvery-white gown, and a
stunning creature dressed in midnight blue. She smiled at her reflection
before leaving the room.
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Jareth waited in the great hall, standing by a window
overlooking the forest of the Labyrinth. It was early fall in his kingdom,
and the setting sun illuminated the trees of the forest so that they appeared
to be on fire.
"Your Highness."
Jareth turned in the direction of the voice, and
what he beheld caused a look of pleasure to
materialize upon his features. And he discovered that he was--for the
first time--at a total loss for words.
"Does my appearance satisfy Your Highness?"
He hesitated, then spoke. "Quite well, Sarah." He
motioned for her to take her seat at the banquet table, the seat to the
right of his place at its head. She obliged, and as he took his seat, she
grasped the opportunity to observe his attire.
He was wearing black yet again, only now with a
white shirt, and a waistcoat that matched her gown both in fabric and color.
Once more, a pleasantly disturbing sight.
"May I inquire as to what has so captured your attention,
Sarah?"
She blinked, realizing that she'd been staring,
and lowered her eyes. *Damn!* "I apologize, Your Highness. It's nothing.
Nothing at all."
"I'm sure."
Their eyes met, gazes locking for a moment. Jareth
broke the connection suddenly, turning his
attention to the goblin that had appeared at his side. He leaned over
to the little creature, whispering
in its ear, and watched as it scampered away. A moment later it returned,
carrying a dusty green
bottle in its claws. Sarah watched as the Goblin King took the bottle
and uncorked it (where the
corkscrew had come from, she never knew), pouring fragrant red liquid
into their goblets. Placing the
bottle aside, he then lifted his goblet to Sarah, graciously bowing
his head in respect to her before
drinking.
She allowed him a few moments to savor the flavors
of the wine before she disturbed him. "Your Highness, I must ask something
of you. Something I need to know."
He looked at her quizzically and nodded his head.
"Of course, Sarah. But before you continue, I have a request of my own
to make."
She regarded him curiously. "Yes?"
"May we please dispense of that annoying title?
It hardly seems appropriate, considering how well
we know one another."
Sarah's voice dripped with sarcasm. "Really? I thought
you'd appreciate it. After all, you are a king, and you obviously enjoy
exercising your power--considering how you brought me here against my will!"
Jareth's eyes glittered menacingly. "I'm afraid
consulting you was quite impossible, Sarah. You were unconscious."
"You knew that I never wanted to see this place
again! Once was enough. You should not have
brought me here--you should have left me alone!"
Jareth slammed his fist against the table, rattling
the silver.
"And left you to die, Sarah? I could not! I would
not leave you behind with that creature. He would have run away like a
frightened child. You would not have survived." He fell silent, looking
away from her to the window.
"So you took me away, bringing me here, to your
castle? Why, Jareth?"
Her soft tone soothed him, and he turned to her
once more. "I made a promise, Sarah. I merely kept it."
"I don't understand."
He rose from his seat and left the hall. She stared,
dumbfounded.
She was left alone once more.
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