Author's Note: Sorry for not updating! I've been busy enjoying the summer doing absolutely nothing. Yes, I am ashamed to say that is why I did not write for the past couple of days. Anyway, enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own the Labyrinth.
Chapter 6
What to do, what to do? Jareth mused to himself as he sat on his throne. Why was Sarah here? And how? He tapped his cane on his boots, ignoring the melee of goblins around.
Jareth closed his eyes, damn but the mere presence of her was enough to distract him from his thoughts.
She had changed; slightly more dreamy from the looks of it when he saw her in the garden but still as impulsive as ever. She was such a silly girl, really. And how had she gotten into his castle? He sighed, pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose.
"Shut up, all of you!" The noise suddenly died, at least goblins were obedient. "Get out." Jareth's voice was distracted. Slowly the goblins left, off to who knows where. Now where was he?
Ah, yes. Sarah. Hmmm, after the years of promising himself not to watch over her and invade her privacy - It's not fair! - after all that happened today, it was time to indulge himself in some form. He formed the crystal in his hand, the sunlight reflecting back into his face.
"Show me Sarah," he whispered. - It's a crystal, nothing more. But if you turn it this way, and look into it, it will show you your dreams. - Her face slowly faded into view, she was obviously bored. Jareth's face softened and a smile played at the corners of his lips, she was still so beautiful… He willed the vision to show more and was rewarded with a strangely familiar sitting room setting.
Sarah was listening to someone talk, to who Jareth didn't know - their backs were to him. He smiled at her barely hidden ennui; she nodded at intervals, the polite gesture people made when they really didn't give a damn. Jareth knew the motions well, he had been dragged to enough meetings himself. She was dressed quite lavishly, although the style was a bit missy-ish for someone with her figure.
Unsatisfied with the sparse answers he received, Jareth looked around the room. It obviously belonged to the wealthy, old money probably since it lacked the ostentatious decorations of the noveau riche.
So Sarah was living with nobility…who? That was a question Jareth didn't know. "Show me the front of the residence," Jareth demanded. Not the castle, they must live within the courtyard then.
The Farrix apartments? It dawned on him. It was not Lavinia who returned home, but Sarah instead! Jareth's mouth tightened, what did this new piece of information mean? Although Lavinia was not particularly brave, she was clever and ruthless. Did she bring Sarah back to use her against him? Was Sarah in trouble?
This would not do, if Sarah was here, who knows what might happen to her. He had enemies, enemies who would stop at nothing to hurt him or anyone. And if anyone knew how fond he was of her…then they would stop at nothing to hurt him through her.
"What are you doing here?" Jareth muttered. Mercutio came out from the shadows, smirking.
"Well, well, well. Did His Highness turn into a peeping tom? Is there some new lady I don't know about?" Mercutio looked pointedly at the crystal in Jareth's palm. Jareth looked down, his eyes distant as they perused the crystal.
"Sarah is Underground." Mercutio's eyes widened.
"Sarah? The Sarah? The one you've been moping and sighing over for who knows how long? Well," Mercutio continued, "the only course of action would be to bring her here, to meet me. Then I may flirt shamelessly with her and after she's fallen into my arms, you can be the best man at my wedding. Just kidding," he turned his hand palms up, to show his sincerity. Obviously this Sarah was someone he could not joke about. "Well, then. What are you going to do?"
"Interrogate her."
"Of course," Mercutio gave an exaggerated wink, "I get it Jareth, you don't have to hide with me, old chum." He elbowed the king knowingly, "Eh? Eh?" Jareth rolled his eyes in slight annoyance, Mercutio could be frustratingly puerile sometimes.
Jareth mused, the tips of his fingers cupping his chin. "Thing is, how exactly did she get here? She might have found a portal, or she could have used the book."
"You didn't bring back the book? I thought you didn't want those things lying around up there anymore."
"No I didn't, but Sarah seemed to find comfort from it." He didn't want her to forget about him. "She could've found a way into here using any means." A pause. "She is in Lavinia's apartments."
"Really? So is Lavinia using the girl? Doesn't surprise me. She's probably the one who brought Sarah Underground."
"Perhaps." He didn't like to leave things to chance. He would get someone to find out the truth.
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"So," Lavinia's mother patted her hair awkwardly. Speaking to humans was so…strange. What can you talk about? "How you do enjoy castle life?"
"It's fine," Sarah fidgeted on the patio seat. Good god it was worse than being made to sit with Karen and her father's friends when they visited. At least then she didn't have to talk. She .
"Yes, well." They both looked away. Awkward silence! Awkward silence! "Oh!," the older woman sat up suddenly. "The ball is coming tomorrow night. Do you have a dress?" She sighed in relief when Sarah seemed to pay attention. At lease human girls had the same interests as the fae ones. Clothing was one subject that never failed when one didn't know what to talk about.
"Actually I do have a dress. I have everything planned out." Sarah could feel her heart pounding with excitement. This was where she would get him.
"That is lovely, I remember when Lavinia had her debut. Why, she just - "
"Excuse me, my lady," A manservant bowed to the two women. "You are wanted in the blue room."
"My dear, please excuse me." The old dame left. Sarah sighed in relief. Well that was interesting. The ball, she thought with excitement, she couldn't wait. She remembered her dress, how it took forever to finish, even when the seamstress used magic. It'll be my replacement prom, Sarah promised herself.
Goblin King get ready to meet your match.
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"How do you do, Your Majesty?" Sarah whispered, staring at the huge golden doors guarding the ballroom, almost glowing in the darkened, empty hallway. She felt alternating waves of excitement, nervousness and sickness flow through her. Her hands clutched the silk of her skirt, almost ripping the beading out its threads. Stop fussing! Young ladies do not fidget in the presence of others!
Sarah ran her fingers through her hair. She had a hell of a time getting the dress made in time for the ball. She winced, remembering how much money she had spent. Taking a deep breath, and trying to settle her stomach, she stepped forward to push open the doors.
They opened on their own accord, the footmen bowing to her as she stepped onto the platform. Sarah gasped, first because this was not the ballroom she remembered the last time she came to the labyrinth. It was huge, shaped like a stadium with the dance floor in the middle of the oval room and an entire wall made of glass showing a balcony on the other side. The platform Sarah stood flowed into three staircases: the middle descending to the dance floor and the two on each side curving against the walls to rest on the carpeted floors that ringed the flooring. It was not the same ballroom. The last one had been small, intimate and colored delicately in pastel. This one was grand and imposing; crystals poured from chandeliers like a suspended waterfall, no soft colors for this party - the walls, floor and ceiling seemed to be carved from solid gold, the only other colors were the white crystals of the chandeliers and the imposing symbol encrusted in the ceiling and sunken into the floor. Deep blue-black velvet carpeted the outer edges of the floor, fell from the windows and hung in bows on the staircase.
And second because this was not the cozy dinner party of her last trip, this was an all-out party. It shocked her at first, the variety of people. She could not stop staring at them, the guests. People had skin in pale hues of the rainbow and vividly colored hair. Green skin with bight yellow, lavender skin with black hair, gray skin with turquoise curls. Horns protruded from foreheads, shoulders and elbows. Wings sprouted from their backs and glitter sparkled everywhere. Sarah didn't know where their costumes ended and where their real form began. Everyone was absolutely confident in their manner, no one stumbled like her when she danced. Watch where your feet are going, no! Did I say look at your feet? Pay attention Sarah! Even Julian became nervous at the upcoming ball, sending her letters of instruction of how to act and such. "Don't let Jareth intimidate you, that will just give him the upper hand. Don't forget what Bartten taught you."
It had turned out the be a masquerade, which was good because according to Frieda it was the most informal kind of dance, and it was bad because she couldn't recognize anyone. At least, not the one that she wanted to find.
"And by the way, don't step on anyone's feet."
"This sucks," Sarah muttered petulantly to herself, fixing her hair as she moved down the steps, "how am I supposed to find him?" The dancing figures at the foot of the stairs seemed to grow until Sarah knew it would be impossible to find the king. Everyone was too damn tall. Ok! she thought, this is very awkward. She moved to the sides, onto the blue velvet, observing the mannerisms of the guests, trying to find that one, arrogant someone. Some chairs were conveniently placed next to the wall, Sarah sat down.
It's too hot. Sarah fanned herself with her hand. She had been here for a while, but the absence of clocks made her unsure of herself. She stretched in her chair and looked around, hating all the masks she saw. Where was the Goblin King? Feeling defeated Sarah stood, unsticking the inner layers of her skirt from the backs of her legs. She carefully picked her way out of the coiling bodies of dancers to the huge balcony across the ball room. After gracefully refusing a few offers, but accepting a drink from a server, Sarah breathed in the fresh, cool air, ignoring the other people that also found refuge outside.
Thinking, she sipped the bitter-sweet drink. Why should she just stand and wait for the Goblin King? No way! She may be on a mission, but that didn't mean that she couldn't have some fun. Dammit, Sarah Williams learned how to dance, and dancing was what she was going to do tonight. She looked around, trying to find a partner. "You there! Sir!" She pointed to a man dressed like a thin version of King Henry VIII, complete with the muffin hat.. He turned and pointed to himself. Sarah felt almost giddy "Yes you, come here."
The man took Sarah's gloved hand in his, smirking slightly as he bowed. "And how can I serve you, my lady?" His voice was tinged with amusement.
"A dance is all I ask," She replied airily, leading him inside to the dance floor. He followed, smiling at the impudence of the small girl. They positioned themselves for the next dance, a waltz. A slow one, Sarah hoped. She smiled and glanced up at him. His violet eyes smiled back at her, the color giving her a shock. His hand tightened on her waist, pulling her closer.
"What's your name," he whispered conspiratorially, well-shaped lips tugging into another smile.
"Sarah, what's yours?" Sarah replied, also whispering. "And why are we whispering?" He laughed as they gracefully moved to the music.
"I don't know," he admitted. "My name's Mercutio, by the way. Sarah is an unusual name, are you visiting the Goblin City?" She nodded, not knowing what to say.
"I'm visiting a cousin, actually."
"Really? Maybe I know her. What is your surname?"
"This is just a dance, my lord," Sarah said with joking exaggeration, "not an interrogation."
"True, true, but what fun is there when one doesn't converse with their dance partner?"
"Then let's talk about the weather." Sarah felt slightly giddy. She had never been so loose with someone she just met. He's almost like Pat… She smiled.
"The weather? Bah! Hang the weather." Mercutio twirled her around, shamelessly showing her off to the other dancers.
"It is too hot," she agreed. "That's an interesting costume you have there."
Mercutio grinned, trying to find out more about this young beauty. It was obvious she was young, or else she would have less of that rebellious streak. Rebellious enough to throw away accepted convention and ask a man for a dance. Her accent was intriguing, one he had never heard before. Sarah… Jareth's Sarah maybe? But this one was staying with a cousin. "It's something I believe they wear Aboveground. At least, last time I was there."
"Seriously?" she eyed the slashed and puffed breeches, "how old are you?" Dammit Sarah! "And another thing, don't let on that you're from Aboveground." She mentally apologized to Julian for the first question. And to Bartten for the second one. Never, ever ask personal questions, don't be rude.
Mercutio's eyes smiled behind his mask. "Impertinent chit you are! Tell me, didn't your nursemaid teach you that asking questions about age is socially unacceptable? As for the other one, I thought that London was quite wonderful, although dirty and full of sewage."
"Yeah? And uh," Sarah fumbled for something else to say. "How were, um, the mortals?"
"Well, um, the uh," Mercutio mocked slightly, "the mortals were delightful. It is always so intriguing how well they get along without magic."
"How so?" She eyed the large wings of a lady who was dancing next to them, wondering if it was real or a part of her costume.
"Well," Mercutio thought of the last time he had been there, "they just do everything the standard way. No magic to light fires, they actually had to invent something that started it. Their gardens and such don't grow as soon as they put in the seeds, but it actually takes time for them to flower. Their crops are danger to insects - insects! I spoke to one scientist who said that the plants were pollinated by them, not like ours which are nourished from the magic of the earth." His voice was filled with incredulity at how nature seemed to work Aboveground.
"That seems," Sarah imitated Bartten's way of speaking; pity laced with disdain, "a bit barbaric."
"A little bit, doesn't it? Let's leave this subject and speak of something else. And what exactly are you supposed to be?" He gestured to her costume. He's staring at my chest Sarah smirked.
"I'm what every girl wants to be."
"And that is?"
"A princess, of course." She smiled, enjoying the feel of the lush fabric around her. It fit perfectly.
"A princess? Maybe I could introduce you to His Highness, King Jareth." Mercutio teased, tapping her silver tiara. Sarah's eyes brightened, adrenalin suddenly rushing through her blood.
"You know the king?" She asked eagerly.
Mercutio laughed, "Ah, so it is he king you came for. And instead you settled for me. I do know the king, in fact I - "
"Excuse me, Your Grace." They were abruptly interrupted by a pageboy, not in costume Sarah observed. "His Majesty, would like a word."
"My lady," Mercutio said with regret, "I apologize for leaving, but my duty awaits." He led her off the floor, bowed to her curtsey and left.
Sarah's eyes followed him like a hawk, searching for the king. There he was! He wasn't wearing a costume, but black. Sarah was surprised, with the man's fondness for dressing up, you'd think he would come up with something more elaborate than a black suit and cape. His mask was resting on his head, allowing him to peruse the room without the peering through eyeholes. He spoke briefly to Mercutio, and the other man left. Then -
He turned and smiled at her.
Sarah gasped, almost backing up into another woman. Her throat suddenly dried up, the delicate tissues of her mouth feeling like it was stuffed with sawdust. Feeling sick and suddenly afraid of what he was going to do, Sarah searched for a way out.
Alas, the stairs were behind the king, and jumping from the balcony was out of the question. Panic rammed into her stomach as the Goblin King smirked at her expression and walked -
Right. Towards. Her
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He had known exactly when she stepped into the ballroom. His senses were so tuned to her, so sharpened to detect her, that he could have found her in a sea of impersonators. Jareth had been opposite of the stairs when she had arrived and he placed his mask on, to observe her and to keep others from distracting his gaze from his prize. He had turned to see her -
And felt as if he had been punched in the gut.
The dress, the same one she had worn before -
The last time he had danced with her -
When she realized he was something other than the monster she had created -
She was wearing it.
His mind recoiled from the pain the sight of her caused as his lips curled in a ironic smile. What a lovely anniversary. Perhaps he should have dressed in his blue waistcoat.
She looked so confused, so dammed innocent that he still could not help his attraction to her. What seemed like a distant obsession at her absence suddenly boiled into a craving, for her or the release of his soul, he did not know.
She had stepped down the golden staircase, her hand at her collar bone, looking around in delight and wonder. She had paused momentarily to view her surroundings. She had licked her lips in anticipation. She had reached up, her fingers - encased in nearly non-existent gloves, fixing the shining silver leaves tucked in the strands of her hair.
Each step she took brought her closer to him. The closer she came, the more his body tensed.
His eyes had followed her slippered foot touch the floor, hesitate, and turn left. To the chairs. He had smirked, for all her bravado Sarah Williams still did not have the courage to step up to her surroundings.
You're wrong, his mind hissed, angry at the insult to her, she beat you didn't she?
She beat me in a game in which she had designed to be the winner. How will she fare in one that she could not control?
Jareth had accepted the dance of some lady he did not recognize, but kept he turned to keep an eye on Sarah as they waltzed.
She had left, distressed Jareth had searched for her. By the time she came back, someone was trailing her. Who was that fop anyway?
Oh.
Mercutio.
You twat, get away from her! He had mentally noted that it was high time to inflict some prank on his friend.
"Something wrong, Your Majesty?" He turned his attention to the woman in his arms. What was her name? Camille?
"You must excuse me, Lady Camille."
"Camille! My name is not -"
He disentangled himself from her arms, "I must see to something urgent." He walked towards the stairs, trying to think of something, trying to banish the vision of Sarah smiling at some man other than himself.
"You there, boy!" He pointed to a pageboy. The lad paled visibly, wondering at the sharpness of the king's voice. Jareth motioned to Mercutio, "Bring the Duke to me. Now."
"Yes, Your Highness." The boy ran through the crown, careful not to jostle anybody.
"Well, well, well." Mercutio said as he neared the king, "seems that you've won after all."
"What?"
"The honorable Lady Katrine, over there." Jareth looked over at the young woman he dance with earlier.
"Hmm, yes." Jareth smiled suddenly, pushing his mask up. "You know what, old friend. It seems that the Baroness Dragona wants to see you out in the hallway." He winked, laughing inside. "You might want to see her. She's dressed like a fairy."
"Really? I thought she never wanted to see me again after, oh well never mind. The hallway, you say?" Jareth could barely stop his laughter. Mercutio would be shocked that it was not the Lady Dragona out there, but Lavinia instead. He had spotted her earlier, speaking to the Earl of Fé everte before slipping out.
Ah, well. Serves him right. Now, Sarah.
He smiled at her, determined to gain the upper hand. Sarah paled, and he smirked at her attempt to look for escape. Sweet girl, did she really think that she could ever elude him?
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Jareth's left arm grasped her waist, dragging her close as his free hand captured hers. "May I have this dance?" Sarah squirmed against him, ignoring the shiver that came from his breath touching the sensitive canal of her ear.
"No, you may not!" But Jareth already pulled her to the dance floor, adroitly maneuvering their bodies into the fast-paced waltz.
"My, dear you look positively delicious," he ran his eyes over her face and body, the meaning clear on his face. "And I must say, that is an innovative way to wear a mask."
Sarah blushed as he touched the glittery white makeup on her face, still tongue-tied. Sarah had argued against a traditional mask, insisting that she wanted Jareth to recognize her on sight. She had Frieda apply a semi-sheer makeup on her face, drawing angel wings that covered her face from her mid-forehead to the tops of her cheeks.
"What, no outrage? Cat got your tongue?" he teased her mercilessly. Sarah nearly wilted with misery. She had been so ready! Everything she wanted to say flew out of her brain as soon as he touched her.
"And lastly, do not be taken in by the Goblin King's famous charm." She could almost see Julian's knowing smile as he wrote the words. Then - mercifully, Sarah composed herself. She tossed her hair and opened her eyes to the king.
Jareth was momentarily thrown. She had seemed so frightened that he had enjoyed toying with her. Then she opened her eyes - the green even more intense now that the sparkle of the makeup was against it - and smiled. It was not the smile of a young girl.
It was the grin of a predator about to strike.
"My tongue is just fine, Your Highness," she purred coyly. "I was just admiring the view." Her body was no longer swaying, submitting to his lead. Instead her posture straightened, he realized with a distant shock that she was much smaller than before, this time her hair barely reached his shoulder. Did she actually shorten his size the last time she was here?
He was wrenched out of his thoughts as Sarah stepped forward, discovering that while he had be occupied with the new discovery, she had taken the lead.
This would not do. Masterfully he gained control, smirking at her soft cry of dismay.
"Really? You like?" Sarah shivered, maybe telling him that she was enjoying the view was a bit too much. He leaned closer, the ends of his hair tickling her collarbone. "And just what. Are. You . Doing here my dear?"
"Um, doing here? Well, I'm….visiting a cousin."
His eyebrows raised. "Ah, so you're half fae then? And how is life with Lavinia?"
She gaped at him, "How did you know?"
Jareth stared down at her, "This is my kingdom. I know everything." His imperious manner was like ice water waking her up.
"What? How arrogant are you?" Sarah cried, becoming even more angry when he laughed. "God, who do you think you are?!" Everything she had wanted to shout at him during her last encounter came to surface.
"Who am I?" He danced them out onto the balcony and let her go.
"I am king," he snarled, clutching her shoulders and shaking her slightly. "I will not ask you again, what are you doing here?"
"What do you mean?" She was feeling woozy from his mere presence. She whimpered and slumped against him.
Jareth started, his hands became supportive instead of restricting. "Are you all right?" he asked gruffly. "Sarah?"
"I don't feel well!" Sarah broke from his hands and ran to the end of the balcony. "What are you doing?" Jareth followed her, irrationally fearing that she might throw herself off the ledge. "Sarah?"
She moaned, clutching the railings. Dammit everything's going wrong! This was not the exit she wanted. I will not throw up in front of him, I will not throw up in front of him. She repeated silently in her mind. Vertigo overtook her and defeated, Sarah fell over.
Jareth stared at her still form, wondering what the hell happened. Sighing he gathered her in his arms. It seems like questions and answers will have to wait until the morning. He summoned a crystal, pausing as familiar words came back to him.
"It's a crystal, nothing more. But if you turn it this way, and look into it, it will show you your dreams."