Skipped the Lady to the Master's Gate
Written by A Lady Grinning
Author's note: Wow . . . so many reviews. ::blushes and bows:: Thanks, everyone. And regarding this particular chapter, I owe my funky usage of the word "labyrinth" and all else involving that word when it is not capitalized to the book Labyrinths, by Sid Lonegren, which is a lovely book for she who desires to go particularly crazy in the research for her favorite movie ^,^ Go for it.
Chapter 5
Sarah somehow found herself in bed when the light outside her painfully, comfortably familiar window was still dim. She slowly rose her head from her crumpled pillows; how did she get here? Sarah could not recall having risen from her fetal position on the floor after the previous night's . . . episode. Nor could she remember disrobing and donning her white nightgown edged in lace, worthy of an American Girl Doll. Maybe she had been so preoccupied with her stupor that she couldn't have given thought to anything else. Or had someone else . . . ?
Sarah's entire body quivered with an immediate cold as the King's last, triumphant sneer echoed through her mind.
She lay there for a moment before starting, remembering today's agenda. Instead of curling up all the tighter, a strange heat flooded Sarah's veins, and she abruptly quit her bed and crossed to her closet. It was vacant, with the exception of one article of clothing.
It was her white medieval dress that she liked to wear to feel exceptionally close to her favorite text, as new as the day Sarah bought it.
And now she was in the throne room. It was empty. (And clean, which shocked Sarah, even in her current state of ambivalence.) Without any distraction, Sarah noted, for the first time, the jester's crown carved above the King's throne. And a small smile formed on Sarah's lips--Jareth didn't take his job very seriously at all, did he?
This quietly happy moment passed when the peach resting on the armchair of the throne caught Sarah's eye.
Almost against her will, Sarah slowly moved toward the weapon, then took it in her hand. Another moment: this peach is perfect. Why not?
While Sarah's first peach Underground had been "strange" tasting in the sense that it was alarmingly bitter and of an unripe texture, her second was sweet beyond measure, though with yet another strange taste. This, however, indicated rot. Regardless of the putrescence, Sarah could not help herself, and took another bite, and another.
The throne room was ebbing away. Sarah could not feel the rest of her body.
All was this taste, of ambrosia and decay.
Sarah stood on the hill before the Labyrinth. The air was dead, as was the sound, and the colors Sarah saw.
"It doesn't look that far," remarked someone beside Sarah.
Sarah's head whipped around, and it was she. She, with the Goblin King winding around her shoulders.
"It's further than you think."
Then Jareth looked at Sarah as she was now, and continued, "Do not forget, Sarah: a labyrinth may have twists and turns, but there is but one way to solve it."
The image was blown away by a sudden and brief gust, and all was still again.
Sarah irritatedly looked back down at the maze, which frightened her now.
The doors to the Labyrinth were open.
Sarah was surprised to find that there was but one path to take, and it was the path to the left.
"Now," Hoggle said. "Would you go left or right?"
Sarah, utterly alone, looked down the new path and mouthed her answer with the alien echo: "They both look the same."
She began to walk.
While her first turn in her first Labyrinth consisted of a straight path that seemed as if it would never end, this first turn led Sarah on an ever-curving path, in which what she approached was unseen. She was not afraid, though a strange sensation was affecting the back of her neck.
Hoggle's voice was gone, and there was utter silence. Though Sarah could hardly wait for a sign of life or change, she did not run, but slowly put one foot before the other then repeated the process.
This monotonous repetition continued for a moment before Sarah noticed a gap in the stone wall she followed on her right side. Standing on a dark platform before the ends of the world were another Sarah and the Goblin King, the villain approaching the heroine slowly, seductively, while she watched confidently on. As Sarah walked around the gentle curve, she saw the King circling her, while she stood still with a small, unfaltering smile upon her lips. Sarah could not hear what was being said; it did not matter. She was going to win. That was all that mattered.
And then it was gone, the wall replacing the scene, and before Sarah could think about what had happened, she heard her own voice shouting, "I can't do anything right, can I?!"
The slam of a door, then, "She treats me like a wicked stepmother in a fairy story no matter what I say!"
Sarah stopped. But wasn't that who Karen was?
She was running, the wall curving to the left, while she didn't mean it, but Toby was still gone. He was so far away, climbing on the ceiling. She called out his name, but he didn't care, while Jareth wept in the corner.
Sarah's body slammed into the cold wall.
Her entire body was bruised. Her mind was bruised. Kings don't cry. Need to sit down . . .
When she opened her eyes, she was looking at herself. From her right- -her left--the strange trash lady handed her a music box. It was Sarah again, dancing around in circles, as the music played. But it was all junk!
Or was it? She followed her hand, and was swept into a dance. Into Jareth's velvety arms. She felt safe and warm again, and the music was all for her.
Sarah forced her eyes open. It was cold again, and the path was curving to the right once more.
And then Sarah was in her room. She let out an exasperated sigh and collapsed on her bed. She turned over, and Lancelot was not in his place on the wall.
She angrily cried out, "Lancelot! Someone has been in my room again! I hate that . . ."
Sarah tore out of her room . . . Toby crying . . . she's talking to her mirror . . . she's wishing for the goblins to come and take you away RIGHT NOW . . . the lights won't work . . . Toby's not in bed . . . there are goblins in the room, and . . .
"It's a crystal," the King of the Goblins said, as it floated fluidly along his hand. "Nothing more. But, if you turn it this way," and this way, and this way, "It will show you your dreams. But this is not a gift. For an ordinary girl. Who takes care of a screaming baby.
"Do you want it?"
Sarah was crying out, "But I have to get my brother back!"
And suddenly the crystal was everything, Jareth had pulled her into his arms once more, and they were dancing across the ballroom.
He was beautiful. His slender mouth formed the words in his song for her, and then it just came closer and closer to her own.
Sarah's eyes began to close . . .
"NO!" she screamed, and backed up against cold wall.
She took some deep breaths, while her hands closed over her ears, shutting out the silence of the single path.
After a moment of stillness, Sarah opened her eyes, unable to take it anymore, and ran along the curving path.
As she ran, she passed Jareth, offering her a crystal. She saw herself taking it.
Sarah hit the nearest wall, bruising her wrists.
Jareth smirked as he held her possessively to his body.
Sarah cried out in anguish, "That can't be the only way!'
Toby's bed was empty.
There was a note on the kitchen table and a doll on her vanity.
"Everything's dancing."
Sarah hugged her knees to herself. "But he was there every time, offering a way out."
She jumped after Toby, but she landed on her feet.
The cleaners were behind her, but so was the fake wall.
"He never let me get hurt . . . "
And this, Sarah realized, hurt more than everything else.
"I was such a child," she whispered to the empty air. "But I don't need that protection anymore."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sarah ran around one curve, and another, and another. Everything was quiet, except for Sarah jubilantly telling herself again and again that he had no power over her.
She ran around one last curve, and she was in the Center of the Labyrinth: a huge circle of white marble, with Jareth, the King of Dreams, standing in its center, dressed all in black.
Sarah walked quickly towards him, and as she told him to give her the child, she smiled; Sarah Williams was the child.
Jareth raised a gloved hand and quietly said, "No, Sarah. There is no need."
Sarah stopped, taken aback, and, though she could come up with many a rash response to Jareth's statement of defeat, she could not bring herself to say one.
Jareth held out a hand, and a crystal appeared in it.
With a pained smile on his face, he smoothly said, "You surprise me yet again, love. Not only have you solved your Labyrinth, but you have completed it in a way that I never could have imagined to be possible.
"Sarah . . . I release you."
And she was in her room--Escher poster on the wall, doll on the desk.
Additional author's note: Many apologies for the confusion: this story is NOT OVER, nor do I think it will be over for a while yet to come. Well, a little while anyway. Also, there is a huge chance that I will be able to update again within two weeks, so fear you not! And, erm, sorry again . . .
Written by A Lady Grinning
Author's note: Wow . . . so many reviews. ::blushes and bows:: Thanks, everyone. And regarding this particular chapter, I owe my funky usage of the word "labyrinth" and all else involving that word when it is not capitalized to the book Labyrinths, by Sid Lonegren, which is a lovely book for she who desires to go particularly crazy in the research for her favorite movie ^,^ Go for it.
Chapter 5
Sarah somehow found herself in bed when the light outside her painfully, comfortably familiar window was still dim. She slowly rose her head from her crumpled pillows; how did she get here? Sarah could not recall having risen from her fetal position on the floor after the previous night's . . . episode. Nor could she remember disrobing and donning her white nightgown edged in lace, worthy of an American Girl Doll. Maybe she had been so preoccupied with her stupor that she couldn't have given thought to anything else. Or had someone else . . . ?
Sarah's entire body quivered with an immediate cold as the King's last, triumphant sneer echoed through her mind.
She lay there for a moment before starting, remembering today's agenda. Instead of curling up all the tighter, a strange heat flooded Sarah's veins, and she abruptly quit her bed and crossed to her closet. It was vacant, with the exception of one article of clothing.
It was her white medieval dress that she liked to wear to feel exceptionally close to her favorite text, as new as the day Sarah bought it.
And now she was in the throne room. It was empty. (And clean, which shocked Sarah, even in her current state of ambivalence.) Without any distraction, Sarah noted, for the first time, the jester's crown carved above the King's throne. And a small smile formed on Sarah's lips--Jareth didn't take his job very seriously at all, did he?
This quietly happy moment passed when the peach resting on the armchair of the throne caught Sarah's eye.
Almost against her will, Sarah slowly moved toward the weapon, then took it in her hand. Another moment: this peach is perfect. Why not?
While Sarah's first peach Underground had been "strange" tasting in the sense that it was alarmingly bitter and of an unripe texture, her second was sweet beyond measure, though with yet another strange taste. This, however, indicated rot. Regardless of the putrescence, Sarah could not help herself, and took another bite, and another.
The throne room was ebbing away. Sarah could not feel the rest of her body.
All was this taste, of ambrosia and decay.
Sarah stood on the hill before the Labyrinth. The air was dead, as was the sound, and the colors Sarah saw.
"It doesn't look that far," remarked someone beside Sarah.
Sarah's head whipped around, and it was she. She, with the Goblin King winding around her shoulders.
"It's further than you think."
Then Jareth looked at Sarah as she was now, and continued, "Do not forget, Sarah: a labyrinth may have twists and turns, but there is but one way to solve it."
The image was blown away by a sudden and brief gust, and all was still again.
Sarah irritatedly looked back down at the maze, which frightened her now.
The doors to the Labyrinth were open.
Sarah was surprised to find that there was but one path to take, and it was the path to the left.
"Now," Hoggle said. "Would you go left or right?"
Sarah, utterly alone, looked down the new path and mouthed her answer with the alien echo: "They both look the same."
She began to walk.
While her first turn in her first Labyrinth consisted of a straight path that seemed as if it would never end, this first turn led Sarah on an ever-curving path, in which what she approached was unseen. She was not afraid, though a strange sensation was affecting the back of her neck.
Hoggle's voice was gone, and there was utter silence. Though Sarah could hardly wait for a sign of life or change, she did not run, but slowly put one foot before the other then repeated the process.
This monotonous repetition continued for a moment before Sarah noticed a gap in the stone wall she followed on her right side. Standing on a dark platform before the ends of the world were another Sarah and the Goblin King, the villain approaching the heroine slowly, seductively, while she watched confidently on. As Sarah walked around the gentle curve, she saw the King circling her, while she stood still with a small, unfaltering smile upon her lips. Sarah could not hear what was being said; it did not matter. She was going to win. That was all that mattered.
And then it was gone, the wall replacing the scene, and before Sarah could think about what had happened, she heard her own voice shouting, "I can't do anything right, can I?!"
The slam of a door, then, "She treats me like a wicked stepmother in a fairy story no matter what I say!"
Sarah stopped. But wasn't that who Karen was?
She was running, the wall curving to the left, while she didn't mean it, but Toby was still gone. He was so far away, climbing on the ceiling. She called out his name, but he didn't care, while Jareth wept in the corner.
Sarah's body slammed into the cold wall.
Her entire body was bruised. Her mind was bruised. Kings don't cry. Need to sit down . . .
When she opened her eyes, she was looking at herself. From her right- -her left--the strange trash lady handed her a music box. It was Sarah again, dancing around in circles, as the music played. But it was all junk!
Or was it? She followed her hand, and was swept into a dance. Into Jareth's velvety arms. She felt safe and warm again, and the music was all for her.
Sarah forced her eyes open. It was cold again, and the path was curving to the right once more.
And then Sarah was in her room. She let out an exasperated sigh and collapsed on her bed. She turned over, and Lancelot was not in his place on the wall.
She angrily cried out, "Lancelot! Someone has been in my room again! I hate that . . ."
Sarah tore out of her room . . . Toby crying . . . she's talking to her mirror . . . she's wishing for the goblins to come and take you away RIGHT NOW . . . the lights won't work . . . Toby's not in bed . . . there are goblins in the room, and . . .
"It's a crystal," the King of the Goblins said, as it floated fluidly along his hand. "Nothing more. But, if you turn it this way," and this way, and this way, "It will show you your dreams. But this is not a gift. For an ordinary girl. Who takes care of a screaming baby.
"Do you want it?"
Sarah was crying out, "But I have to get my brother back!"
And suddenly the crystal was everything, Jareth had pulled her into his arms once more, and they were dancing across the ballroom.
He was beautiful. His slender mouth formed the words in his song for her, and then it just came closer and closer to her own.
Sarah's eyes began to close . . .
"NO!" she screamed, and backed up against cold wall.
She took some deep breaths, while her hands closed over her ears, shutting out the silence of the single path.
After a moment of stillness, Sarah opened her eyes, unable to take it anymore, and ran along the curving path.
As she ran, she passed Jareth, offering her a crystal. She saw herself taking it.
Sarah hit the nearest wall, bruising her wrists.
Jareth smirked as he held her possessively to his body.
Sarah cried out in anguish, "That can't be the only way!'
Toby's bed was empty.
There was a note on the kitchen table and a doll on her vanity.
"Everything's dancing."
Sarah hugged her knees to herself. "But he was there every time, offering a way out."
She jumped after Toby, but she landed on her feet.
The cleaners were behind her, but so was the fake wall.
"He never let me get hurt . . . "
And this, Sarah realized, hurt more than everything else.
"I was such a child," she whispered to the empty air. "But I don't need that protection anymore."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sarah ran around one curve, and another, and another. Everything was quiet, except for Sarah jubilantly telling herself again and again that he had no power over her.
She ran around one last curve, and she was in the Center of the Labyrinth: a huge circle of white marble, with Jareth, the King of Dreams, standing in its center, dressed all in black.
Sarah walked quickly towards him, and as she told him to give her the child, she smiled; Sarah Williams was the child.
Jareth raised a gloved hand and quietly said, "No, Sarah. There is no need."
Sarah stopped, taken aback, and, though she could come up with many a rash response to Jareth's statement of defeat, she could not bring herself to say one.
Jareth held out a hand, and a crystal appeared in it.
With a pained smile on his face, he smoothly said, "You surprise me yet again, love. Not only have you solved your Labyrinth, but you have completed it in a way that I never could have imagined to be possible.
"Sarah . . . I release you."
And she was in her room--Escher poster on the wall, doll on the desk.
Additional author's note: Many apologies for the confusion: this story is NOT OVER, nor do I think it will be over for a while yet to come. Well, a little while anyway. Also, there is a huge chance that I will be able to update again within two weeks, so fear you not! And, erm, sorry again . . .