Hi all. I know I promised this a long time ago but that pesky old thing called real life got in the way. Along with a creative block it's hard to write anything! Anyway I thought I'd re-hash it after a surge of inspiration recently. I've also got several other pieces I'm writing at the moment but the thing is they're so darn dark and I always get nervous about posting, but I'm trying to give this story my attention at the moment and finally finish it. I'm not sure if anyone's still following this but if they are I hope you enjoy it and sorry for the absence. A lot of credit goes to Rhondda Lake the writer of the wonderful "Perchance to..." which is my favourite Labyrinth fanfiction (And can be found on this site) and although "The Same Moon" is no way as vivid or imaginative her story inspired me to write a fantasy adventure themed piece like this. Any comments welcome at Caitlin@teenagewildlife.com and if anyone wants to act as a sounding board for my ideas and rambling stories (In other words a beta) feel free to email me. Enough with the babbling and onto the story......
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The Same Moon
Chapter 2
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When Sarah's eyes fluttered open a bright light filled them which made her temples throb and her head ache and she figured that she was dead and this was heaven. But once her pupils contracted to adjust to the amount of light she realised that heaven was nothing like she'd expected. In fact it wasn't heaven at all, but neither was it any other place she recognised.
She found she was covered in exquisite white silk sheets which wrapped around her body like a smooth second skin. Her eyes followed the smooth ripple of material to find she was laying in an elegant mahogany bed in a room which matched the grace of the sheets.
The room was not large, but grand nonetheless; dark red walls, rich red wood dresser and furniture. Accompanied by pictures on the walls which could grace even the Louvre. Wine red velvet curtains to the left of her were ajar, letting in a strong beam of sunlight which had blinded her not so long ago.
Her head was still cloudy and she tried to remember what had happened. She remembered the tree and being crushed and falling, just falling. Then everything was jagged fragments of memories and images that made no sense to her but tugged at memory. It merely made her head pound when she tried to put together the puzzle.
Perplexed, she tested arms and legs and was confused to find that everyone of her muscles, although weary, did not hurt in the slightest. She looked underneath the cream chemise she had found herself wearing to inspect her damaged ribs, but her skin was flawless and smooth. Testing her head and face for scars or blood she was further surprised to find her complexion clear and no evidence of being trapped under a large oak tree. All that remained was a feeling of drowsiness and uncertainty.
Cautiously she attempted to rise from the bed to see from what surroundings the blinding light was seeping through the curtains from. Pulling herself up slowly, her limbs still heavy, she paused for a second allowing a wave of dizziness to pass. Then using the bedpost to balance herself she managed to stand upright. If not she feared her legs would give way beneath her. The mere effort of the act found her panting heavily and her limbs trembling in uncertainty and she realised just how weak she felt.
Just what had happened?
Where on earth was she?
That question was soon to be answered. With her remaining trembling hand she whipped the luxurious dark red material across to reveal her surroundings.
The small ray of light from before was a mere flicker compared to the intensity of the beams that filled her eyes and Sarah brought her free hand up in shock to cover her eyes, almost losing her balance and falling. She grabbed hold of the curtain, almost dragging it from it's rail and managed to steady herself once more.
Slowly, a finger at a time, she removed her hand from her face and opened her lids to solve the mystery.
"Oh God,"
Sarah's lips formed the words but nothing, not even a hoarse croak, came out of her mouth.
It was more beautiful and more magnificent then she had remembered. Sarah felt an ache of memory deep in the chest and she knew where she was; the Castle. The Castle she had run to two years ago, the castle in the wild, untamed Labyrinth she had fought her way through, the castle that belonged to...
It was all flooding back to her now.....the shadow with the blue eyes, the place suspended between time that she had almost fallen from. And him.
Jareth.
She closed her eyes so to savour the memory of her initial recognition of the place. A place of fantasy, a place of magic, a place where dreams came true.
The room was high, near the turrets at the top of the castle. So high that far off in the distance, almost beyond the reach of her sight she could see a sun was rising over the tall stone walls and hedgerows, highlighting the odd leaf or stone. After that the landscape was a blur of colours and nature, of forests and lakes, fields and swamps, places of such fascination and magic she knew she would have remembered it if she had passed through them in her quest. The landscape then gradually dispersed into fields of green and the Goblin city.
At least where the Goblin city should have been.
No she couldn't be wrong about that. She was in the castle in the centre of the Labyrinth. That meant that after the vast stretches of the Castle's grounds should be the Goblin city. The chaotic, unkempt city. Full of rubbish, escaped poultry and badly constructed small houses. Running around it should have been the deformed and ugly, but stupid goblins.
Instead the village that surrounded the Castle grounds was nothing like the memories that her mind served her. Towering over the fences of the flowers and trees that grew to contain the Castle were buildings that were orderly and intricately designed.
From where she was standing, isolated from the what seemed to be a City, Sarah could make out that although they did not match the glamour of the castle the buildings were still graceful and classic. A complete contrast to what she expected.
They varied from stone built structures with turrets and balconies, with vines creeping up the cobbled walls to small thatched cottages, the slightest attention to detail obvious.
And out of them not a thousand running, screaming goblins, but in the distance she could make out the silhouette of.......of people.
People?
Focusing her pupils to make sure her eyes were not deceiving her she stared at the city. Yes people, they were people.
Sarah's legs began to fail her and she collapsed back onto the bed, the curtains swinging back in place to obscure the view once more.
It was different, so different yet so the same. Was this the same Labyrinth she had visited two years ago. Yes, she was certain of it. So what had happened to the Goblin City?
Determined to find some answers to her questions, despite her obvious fatigue, Sarah knew she had to find somebody, anybody who could tell her what in the name of God was going on.
Even if that person was the Goblin King himself.
Thoughts echoed in her head; I should be dead, her mind told her, I should be dead. So why on earth am I back here instead?
Taking a few deep gasps of air to prepare herself, against all sanity and her body's protests she attempted to rise once more.
The room spun wildly. She saw double and her knees melted. Her stomach heaved and she grabbed it quickly, murmuring curses to herself. This wasn't going to be easy.
As she took her first step her vision spun crazily, but although she teetered dangerously she managed to stay upright. Clutching the wall for support she made it to the grand mahogany door and turned the brass door knob. The door opened and a long hallway of wooden floor and dark stone walls stretched in front of her. Candles fixed on the wall shone brightly, competing with the sun rays that shone from a window at the bottom of the corridor. Although it was obviously daytime, no windows were open, no curtains, save one, were pulled and the candles were alight.
She noticed with mild curiosity that the candle flames had a strange halo. Her head pounded anew, and her stomach did a dizzying dance. But Sarah was stubborn and refused to give up. Slowly and tentatively she placed one foot in front of her and made a very gradual descent down the hallway, hand pressed against the cold stone the whole way for support.
After what seemed like an eternity she found herself at the bottom. The path opened in both directions to a balcony which overhung a very familiar room.
The throne room.
Stepping forward dizzily without anything to stable herself for a few seconds, she pressed herself against the wooden beams which prevented anyone toppling over the edge onto the hard stone floor below.
By this time Sarah felt like collapsing against the pillars. She was breathing heavily and her whole body was shaking she was so tired, and still there was no one in sight. None of the people she spied before. No Christian, the shadow like figure. Nor was there any sign of the Goblin king.
She permitted herself to rest against the beams so to regain her composure and closed her eyes to rest for a few moments. She should have just stayed in that warm soft, inviting bed.
Laying on the freezing cold floor Sarah realised that what with the stone passageway and wearing merely a silk chemise (she tried not to think about how she had come to be wearing it) meant that she was completely frozen and goose bumps prickled her skin. What had she been thinking? She wasn't in a state to do anything.
"Was the bed not satisfactory enough Sarah? I wasn't aware you preferred the floor."
Sarah jolted upright in shock as to the interruption of her thoughts and her eyes shot open.
"But of course it could always be arranged,"
There he stood. Lounging comfortably against the stone wall she had been staring at seconds earlier. His almost glittering white blonde hair was more alive then she remembered and his eyes sparkled with arrogance. As usual his lips formed a mocking sneer. Compared to what he usually wore his outfit could be deemed conservative; black shirt slightly open at the top to expose pale skin and the same crescent moon medallion, tight grey trousers and black knee boots. But on him it looked as regal as ever. The flickering candle light danced on his face, highlighting the sharp curve of his cheek bones. God he looked great.
Feeling suddenly uncomfortably exposed in flimsy lingerie (which she hoped was half decent) at his feet, Sarah struggled to get upright despite her protesting body. Her limbs refused to co-operate but eventually she managed to get herself into a somewhat standing position. The whole time she could see the King smirking at her, his eyes never leaving her struggling form.
"Need a hand?" He asked, in feigned concern.
God how she hated him.
"Not from you," She shot back, trying to remain standing the whole time.
He moved slowly to where she leant and moved his lips close to her ear so that his breath tickled her lobe. Sarah didn't have the energy to move away.
"Not from where I'm standing," He stepped back and resumed his casual stance against the wall, a definite smile touching his lips. Not a flicker of concern in his eyes. Her helplessness seemed to cause him great amusement.
Ignoring his sarcasm Sarah mustered the breath to ask the insistent questions in the back of her mind.
"Why am I here?" she whispered between heavy breaths.
Turning his head to stare past her, uninterested, he replied. The amusement dropping from his voice.
"Not my idea I assure you Sarah. If I had my way you would not step foot in this Kingdom ever again, but unfortunately this time it was...." He paused, anger forming on his delicate features, "Beyond my control."
Beyond his control? Him. He must mean the man he called brother. But why did he want to bring her to the Labyrinth?
Sarah went to ask another question but he interrupted her before she could even form the words.
"I take it by the way you're looking at me with more bewilderment then usual that you've noticed that my Kingdom has changed a lot since you last graced it with your presence."
That sarcasm again, but Sarah didn't have the energy to think of a comeback to match it.
He continued, "I never got to thank you did I Sarah? For almost destroying my Labyrinth that is. Think of the fact that I'm not throwing you into the bog of eternal stench as thanks for your helpfulness,"
The spite in his words made Sarah's body tremble even more. She hoped her face didn't show just how deep his words had cut her. He said he could be cruel and she knew that, but now his voice was vicious. Well what would he have her do? Let him turn her baby brother into a Goblin?
"So why did you rescue me from that place, why did you stop me from falling?" She managed to get the words out between long gasps of air, her voice breaking only with the last word.
He chuckled and walked past her, Sarah had a hard time trying not to stare at the way his muscles rippled underneath his trousers, their tightness defining each separate one. Not looking at her he spoke, the arrogance back in his smooth cultured voice.
"That honour goes to my brother, and not me. I believe you've met him. Blue eyes, long black hair, a complete fool," He spat the last words, the resentment back in his voice.
Sarah tried to ignore the disappointment that sunk in her stomach, the trouble she was having retaining consciousness seemed to be an apt distraction. She stared at the floor trying to concentrate on the grey slabs of stone. She couldn't faint and be even more powerless in front of him then she already was.
Jareth seemed to sense her discomfort and unease. She had to leave, had to get back to her room, away from him.
"Having some trouble Sarah?" He asked. That fake concern again.
"No trouble a-" She found herself slipping as her legs betrayed her and gave way beneath her swaying body.
She expected to land with a sickening thud on the cold floor but instead she found herself still half upright, her cheek pressed against black silk over a hard defined chest.
Oh damn, she thought.
His arms were tight around her, his fingertips pressed against her bare arms and in a swift movement he lifted her off her feet so that he was holding her in his arms. Sarah couldn't bear to look up at him, not wanting to see the smug look on his face.
She tried to push away from him but was too weak, or he was to strong. All she knew was that she needed to get away from this feeling of being at his mercy, having to rely on him as soon as possible. She'd never felt so uncomfortable in her life.
Her whole body was tense, even when she had danced with him in the crystal ball she had never been this close to him. The whole of her body was crushed against his in his tight, steady hold.
"Put me down." She ordered, trying to give her words power.
"As proud and stubborn as ever I see. So say I do put you down Sarah, just how exactly were you planning on getting back? Crawling perhaps?"
Sarah contemplated jamming her knee into his chest, but on the basis of their compromising position she thought against it.
"I said put me down," She repeated inbetween gritted teeth.
Silence. Sarah hoped he couldn't feel her shaking.
"Your wish is my command,"
Suddenly Sarah felt herself come free from his almost suffocating embrace and she landed with an inelegant thump on the floor. Luckily she had fallen on her hands and knees, but her whole body still hurt and her constant battle against nausea continued. She could see the bottom of his black boots under the sweaty locks that clung to her forehead, now heavily laden with perspiration.
Leaning back on her heels bracing herself against the beams, her chest rising heavily, he knelt down upon one knee to be eye level with her and tilted her chin up with his hand so that she was forced to stare straight into his eyes.
"Still want me to put you down?" He enquired, his eyebrows raised. God how she hated him. He was intent on humiliating her.
Sarah licked her lips, tasting the salty beads of sweat. She couldn't give in, she couldn't, but what choice did she have? Jareth cocked his head waiting for her reply.
Solemnly she swallowed and took a deep breath.
"No," She whispered.
"Sorry what was that Sarah? I couldn't quite hear,"
Sarah felt anger brewing in her chest and her breathing quickened again.
"I said no I don't want you to put me down!" She cried with as much energy as she had left, bitterness in her words.
Jareth smiled a self satisfied smile and Sarah ached to smack the grin right off his face, but she didn't get a chance.
Sliding one arm under her legs and another around her back he picked he up with ease and began to carry a very humiliated and very pissed off Sarah down the dark corridor. She swore that she could feel him stifling laughter from the way his chest was moving.
God he was strong, she thought, his movements were swift and his grip was tight. For a moment Sarah could let herself relax but remembering her predicament and the fact that the smug face of the Goblin King's was inches from her own, she tensed once again. Her head continued throb and her stomach churn and she prayed that they'd reach their destination soon. All she wanted to do was get back to sleep and forget about all the unanswered questions, where she was, and the arrogant King.
Lying there in his arms, Sarah felt so young again, and she tried to forget all the feelings of their last encounter. When he'd said he was in love with her, when she thought that maybe she was...
That maybe she was......Her chest sank and realising her stupidity she allowed her features to grow cold again. How naive she had been.
Kicking the ajar door of the room open Jareth carried her with little effort into the room. Finally, she thought, and allowed herself a sigh of relief. Gently he laid her down on the silk sheets which were in disarray on the mahogany bed and quickly she propped herself up against the wall. Attempting to regain some dignity when she looked at him, but he was already walking out of the room by the time she had sat up.
At the doorway he paused and turned to look at her, deep in thought.
"Sweet dreams Sarah," He said slowly.
Then that superior, haughty, mocking smile was back and Sarah scowled as she heard soft chuckling which continued even after he closed the door and walked down the corridor.
God she hated him.
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He glanced suspiciously over his shoulder, blue eyes flicking warily over the doorway and the stone wall behind him. Damn, he thought, could have sworn there was someone there....
After a few moments of contemplation and satisfied no one was spying on him Christian relaxed and attempted to once again engross himself in his readings.
But it was proving a harder task then he had expected. Used to relying on his physical strength and wit rather then his mental intelligence, not that he lacked it, Christian had soon discovered that searching the numerous texts he needed for his plan was proving more troublesome then he had anticipated. Almost defeated he slumped in his chair wearily and sighed.
Jareth two, Christian Nil.
Maybe his older brother was right, maybe he was reckless and foolhardy. As soon as he had heard of the gradual destruction of the Labyrinth he had arrived immediately. Determined to rescue his brother's dying kingdom and prove to him that he was no longer the little brother needed to be rescued from scrapes. But yet again he found himself relying on Jareth. God, how surprised he would have been if he had arrived at his castle door, Sarah Williams in tow. But he had over estimated himself once more.
So now, tail firmly set in between his legs, Christian had retreated to the almost deserted west wing of the castle. His guards were up so no one would find him and he had been desperately trying to find a way to harness the girl's magic. To try and prove to his brother that she could help him to crush the horror that was sweeping his kingdom.
As a youth Christian had always found it hard to study, unlike Jareth. He preferred the life of a swordsman and the battleground. It was the same preference that had lead him out of his parents kingdom, out of the Labyrinth, to follow the lure of the battle and the life of a warrior.
And he had succeeded.
He was thought of as one of the most accomplished fighters of the nine realms. His reputation preceding him wherever he went. However many thought that he was too risky and reckless in his technique, taking chances wherever he could, wishing to impress others even if it meant putting his life at risk. When he fought he put on a performance rather then a battle to death. His unorthodox style and impulsiveness had many a time got him into trouble.
But this time, he could have sworn he had everything under control. Jareth could take people from the fifth kingdom with ease. God knows he had in the dark years of the Labyrinth. But he couldn't even manage a girl who was half dead, supposedly at her most susceptible stage.
Angry with himself he slammed the heavy book in front of him shut with a thump, knocking other scrolls and paper from the desk. It felt like he had been here for hours and what did he have to show for it?
His neck was stiff and he rolled it on his shoulders, massaging the base roughly, attempting to restore some feeling. Raking his hands through his silk black hair he tapped his foot absentmindedly on the wooden floor. How was he going to get out of this one? How the hell was he going to tell Sarah that...
Stopping his tapping foot abruptly he licked his lips.
"You going to stand there all day brother or were you actually planning on speaking to me?" Christian spoke dryly, waiting for the inevitable reply.
"Pity you couldn't have shown such observance of circumstance a few days ago,"
Jareth's cultured voice seemed to attack his ears and taking a deep breath, Christian rose and turned, so the two brothers stood face to face.
To any observer, initially the two would not look at all alike. Jareth was poised where Christian relaxed in his manner, blonde hair sparkled luminescent in the light, to a rich black pony tail restrained under a band. Jareth's mismatched eyes seemed to hold seriousness and contempt with a hint of sardonic arrogance, where Christian's hazel eyes held a rebelliousness and a youthful foolhardiness and openness. The only similarity was high cheekbones, the trade mark of those of a Fey or magical heritage.
Even in clothing they were different. Christian's loose brown breeches and shirt, the sleeves rolled up, to Jareth's dark tight fitting exquisite garments. Both were handsome but in very different ways. Christian with a traditional but nonetheless good looking face and form, where as the Fey bloodline was more prominent in Jareth's pale skin and sculptured face which made him more striking.
"Well what can I say? I would have hated to disappoint you," Christian was the first to break the stare and moved to collect the bits of scrolls that had dropped on the floor, "And anyway how the hell did you find me? I had guards up,"
Jareth had now seated himself, one leg swinging over the arm and was studying the book on the desk.
"How long exactly is it since you used your magic Christian? Well except that little incident a few days ago......"
Christian tensed, he always knew just how to get to him. Jareth continued offhandedly still staring at the text,
"Speaking of that, what exactly were you planning on doing about it?"
Christian finished collecting the materials and laid them to rest on the desk then made a stance leaning against the wall.
"You know what I was planning on doing, Jareth. It was, after all, you who gave me the idea,"
Jareth's humiliation of him ceased and he saw darkness cloud his brother's eyes, just as it did whenever he was opposed.
"Don't make the situation worse, Christian. It's bad enough that she's here in the first place, I swore the day she ever entered this Kingdom again...." He narrowed his eyes trailing off into incoherence.
Christian saw his opportunity, his brother's cool certainty had been penetrated.
"Feeling a little threatened are we?" He raised his brow, allowing a knowing smile to grace his lips as he took Jareth's usual role.
Jareth guffawed, and immediately stiffened raising from his seat, preferring to stand.
"Threatened?" He scoffed, hands flying wildly to enforce his words, "The girl's got about as much magic in her as a goddamned dwarf!"
"So why was she able to beat the almighty King at his own game?"
Jareth shot Christian daggers then spoke through gritted teeth, attempting to collect himself.
"A mere fluke," he replied coolly.
The atmosphere became tense and he could see the King's jaw become rigid and the veins in his neck begin to throb.
"Fluke huh? That's what you call it?" Christian was still smiling, which served to make Jareth even angrier so that he was almost visibly shaking in irritation.
"Don't play games with me Christian. I haven't got the time," The grave note to his voice would have scared anyone, but Christian knew him too well.
"You'd have more time if you'd admit that maybe my plan could just work, that maybe we could just harness the human magic."
Jareth seemed to contemplate the idea for a few seconds, and pursed his lips deep in thought. Christian continued to talk, he seemed to be coming round to the idea.
"Come on Jareth, when were you ever someone to back away from a challenge? You know we need as many talented people as possible for the passing. Can't you forget about that pride of yours for just a second?"
His careful persuasion was interrupted with harsh, forceful words.
"Sarah Williams has no effect whatsoever over on my pride," he shot at his brother, who in return smiled triumphantly.
"Good, then you'll have no problem with me training her personally."
And before Jareth could protest he was gone in a burst of smoke, leaving his very angry brother to almost demolish the desk buried under mountains of books with a venom filled crystal, mumbling curses under his breath.