Author's Note: Hey everyone! No JS in this chapter, sorry for the disappointment.
Disclaimer: The Labyrinth is not mine.
Chapter 11
Sarah woke up late the next day, 9 o'clock to be exact. Then it all came back to her: she would never go home again. Groggily, a feeling of doom upon her, she sat up in bed and covered her face with her hands. What have I done? she questioned herself. It's no use of anyone to mope about all day, you know. She snorted at the rational side of her conscience. That's what you think. She laid back down.
Think, Sarah, think. What to do? Well, you can't run away. You can't really abandon everyone's expectations. You don't know the Underground well enough to hide. And you have to magic to help you. So, from all this what have we learned?
Sarah groaned. I'm trapped.
Her slowly ebbing trepidation towards Jareth soon came back full force. What would happen to her? To Lavinia? And Frieda, Bartten, and Oriel? And what about Julian? She doubted that Jareth would do anything to his own brother, but what about the ones that don't have the privilege of a name to protect them? Well, Lavinia might be safe, her family was part of the nobility right? But then again history showed that being noble didn't exactly keep you from harm. The thought of Lavinia being guillotined made Sarah feel dizzy and sick.
Let's not lose last night's dinner now. Did she even eat dinner?
Sarah sighed and got up, determined to do something today that would not end up with her learning about more depressing things. Energized, she made her bed and went to the closet. Opening it, she looked at the dresses that she brought with her.
Today will be a Sarah day. No thinking of anyone else. No Jareth - if she can help it. No one but her today, she deserved it. This job was stressing her out. Go into the goblin city maybe…or not, she thought remembering their dislike for most humans. Maybe the fae part of the kingdom then.
Sarah nodded determinedly, running her hands through the line of fabric. One texture caught her attention; soft, silky cotton. She pulled it out. Sarah smiled, she had almost forgotten the dress. After Lavinia and Frieda had practically had her wearing matronly things with high necks, she had begged the older woman to let her get a few different dresses. She had pushed them into the back of the closet, in desperation for Lavinia not to find them and take them away and had forgotten about them completely.
This one was her Scarlett O'Hara dress; her favorite costume, that beautiful white one she wore with the dark green leaf print and the ruffles at the neckline. Sarah pulled it out, admiring the stiffened bodice and the shape of the skirt. She found a pair of dark green ballet flats - the only shoes that matched the dress, and laid it out on the bed.
Banishing all thoughts from her mind, Sarah hummed while she bathed. Afterwards She found the curling tongs that Frieda used to curl her hair for the masquerade. How did these things work? She looked at it closely, the metal part was normal, but the curling iron had two wooden handles, like a pair of pliers. She squeezed the handle to open the tongs. Frieda had used the fireplace to heat the tong, she remembered. Sarah looked at the fireplace, there was a grate where she must have rested the tongs. Should she do it? Why not? Before she started though, Sarah found the bottles that Oriel had given to her before she left. The ones that grew back hair.
She lit a small fire in the fire place, lowering the grate and putting the metal part of the tongs on it. When her hair was dried, Sarah crossed her fingers before picking up the heated tongs. She held her breath as she carefully wound the hair round the wide barrel. Well, she thought to herself. This isn't so bad. She squeezed the handles to let go of the hair.
"Ahh!" Sarah yelled. To her horror, the curled section had fallen onto the floor, the smell of burning hair tickling her nose. "Ok, mental note: Underground curling irons are way hotter than electric ones," she muttered as she dabbed Oriel's potion to her new bald spot. Sarah tried again, and this time she was successful. In no time at all, her hair was manipulated into a series of long curls.
Sarah pulled her corset as tight as she possible could and dressed herself, using the mirror to button the pearl buttons and tie the green sash.
She put on the shoes and raced out the door, her eagerness to forget marked by the swishing noise of the her crinoline in her skirt.
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Mercutio woke up in a haze at 8:45, kicking out the empty wine bottle from his bed. "All right Mercutio," he said to himself, "no more parties with Lord Darcy." He got up, fell down and tried again before stumbling into his bathroom. Mercutio stepped into the small cubicle at the end of the wall and pulled a thin chain.
"Ahh!" Mercutio sighed. He had always loved showers. He sat with his back to the wall, allowing the ice-cold water to penetrate his clothes - still wearing yesterday's outfit, he noted - and his hazed brain.
He smiled, remembering what had happened after his meeting with Lavinia. She had told him to give Sarah the day off today, since Jareth was visiting sections of the cities. After they basically planned Sarah's and Jareth's love lives, they both went to Lord Darcy's party at the western courtyard. They had danced together 8 times out of the 11 dances offered. Mercutio closed his eyes and tipped his head, letting the water cool his burning eyelids. He had almost forgotten how soft she felt when she was in his arms, how delicate and warm. Gods, it was just like before the incident. Murder with a capital M,he thought bitterly. The death of Lavinia's sister had changed her forever.
But her essence was still there; her compassion, laughter, wit and insecurity - all hidden with her new-found arrogance and condescension. She was still the same underneath and all he had to do was find some way to break her impenetrable shell…
Mercutio was glad Sarah was here, not only because she gave him an excuse to spend time with Lavinia, but also to distract Jareth. Jareth was his best friend, ever since Mercutio fished him out of the lake when the mermaids were fighting over him. But that didn't mean that he forgave the king for taking away his only love. But the fact that Lavinia was the pursuer was the one that made him die inside, and the fact that Jareth accepted made him feel betrayal like nothing else.
Gods, he had hated him both of them then, and had been glad to leave when he was ordered to survey the kingdom. It was like some sick game that he didn't know of, that everyone played behind his back while simultaneously laughing at him.
And now? Well, traveling had softened his hardness and long hours in the sun burned out his anger and hate. It had made him long for stability. Perhaps, even the hope of rekindling the flame that consumed him so much before. Mercutio fingered the ring he wore around his neck. It was a small necklace, made of a long delicate chain. Hanging on it was the ring that he had given to Lavinia when he had asked for her hand.
He still remembered how she had cried out in surprise. It was during a garden party Jareth had arranged - an excuse for Mercutio to steal time away with Lavinia from her chaperone. He chuckled, when they had gone back to the group, her parents shouting at the old maid for losing their daughter and then were horrified when they saw her walking back with Mercutio. Even then he had the reputation of a scoundrel. They had refused to allow the union, but then relented for the sake of their daughter's happiness.
And then it happened, and he lost her forever. No, not forever, he determined. How can I know what tomorrow brings?
Mercutio stood, undressed and washed himself. He dressed in crisp, fresh clothes; a ruffled blue shirt and black breeches. Slipping on boots, he decided he needed a day off also.
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Jareth woke up as soon as the feeble rays of light penetrated the heavy drapes that hung on the windows. He woke up, but decided to actually get up an hour later. Sometimes it's good to be the king, Jareth thought as he sent Ergo away. In his warm cocoon of soft blankets, Jareth mused about yesterday, Sarah and today. He wouldn't be able to see her today, today being the weekly assessment of the kingdom. He reached for his sketch of her, and studied it yet again. In this light, she seems to be in the process of facing him. Jareth smiled, wondering if his eyes were playing tricks. Probably. He had to start thinking clearly, it would not do to allow a girl to take over your life so completely as this. Now is the time to be rational.
Jareth stretched and stood up, flinging away the covers and opening the windows. He breathed in the scent of the morning. At once came the familiar, fierce love he had for his kingdom as he overlooked the lands.
He surveyed the Goblin City, listening to the clang and chatter of the awakening vendors. The baker and vegetable seller had crashed their carts again and were arguing over who would pay for damages. The houses were still, the only sign of life being the rising smoke from the chimneys. The labyrinth beyond was also still, except for the birds that regularly circled the hedge maze.
Jareth walked to the window on the other side of the room, opening the sash and looking out over the Fae City. It too was still, the only people awake being the merchants walking to their shops. Some lovers were outside, hiding from the critical gaze of their chaperones. A few chickens and goats being led to a pasture somewhere.
Only when he was satisfied that no impending danger was lurking over his kingdom did Jareth leave to bathe. In the sunken tub he looked over the reports that was written during the night: economic status, feuding families and newspapers from overseas. He snorted as he found the gossip rags that Ergo had misplaced within the reports, the man was as nosey as a matron.
Jareth opened his ledger and wrote down the important facts of the reports, making sure to bring up the issues with the advisors later on. He glanced at the clock, it was 5:30. He still had half an hour before the meetings and debates. Quickly he washed hair and then dried himself.
Jareth opened his closet and picked out his most formal clothes, all in black: a fitted shirt, silk vest and jacket, leather breeches and a long, velvet black cloak. Carefully Jareth smoothed out his clothing, making sure no wrinkles were present to imply that the king was an absentminded one. He pulled on his thin leather gloves, put a pocket watch in one of the pockets and made sure his boots were shined to perfection. He took out his medallion, making sure the pendent was shining before he placed it around his neck.
He studied himself in the mirror, knowing that he made a striking figure. The deep, consuming black of his clothes offset his pale, hawkish features and hair. The medallion, the sign of his kingdom and reign fairly glowed from its dark backdrop. He was every inch the king that everyone believed and knew him to be: just, fair, intelligent and impossible to gauge.
Jareth kept a tight reign over his kingdom, making sure that people's needs and opinions were listened to, but also knowing that ruling with an open hand was to ask for one's destruction. He learned from centuries of watching the instability of the Underground; kings and queens who ruled too cruelly, were too lenient or too indecisive to stay in power. And the resulting chaos that engulfed their kingdoms.
He took out the ledger and reviewed what he wrote, making sure that he thought of every angle and every question that could be asked. By and large the kingdom was fine, the usual suspects were there: small groups trying to overthrow him, nobles complaining about the noveau riche's ostentatious houses, goblins wanting to clean out oubliettes to turn into houses. The ordinary annoyances that plagued every kingdom.
Ordinary annoyances that Jareth was grateful for. No more war for this man, only the boring and the bland forevermore was all he asked. Well, maybe he could ask for one more thing… but now was not the time to think about it.
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Dream Sequence
She pounded on the door, trying to escape.
"Help! Help me! Somebody! Please!"
Gods, it was so hot, so dark.
"Be quiet!" A voice whispered in her mind. "Don't let him hear you!"
She quieted into whimpers of fear, breathing erratically.
Feeling suffocated.
She limped against the door, trying to hear anything.
She was rewarded with screams.
Then the door opened, she was roughly dragged out.
And all went dark.
End Dream Sequence
She woke up with a scream, piercing and afraid. Then quieted when she realized where she was.
Lavinia cursed the sun that invaded her private sanctuary. What? What time is it? 7:02, what the hell? Growling and scowling she sat in her bed, only to be startled by her morning appearance in the large mirror that faced the bed.
Lavinia sighed as she fingered her curls, resenting the fact that she looked like some redheaded, pale lion. Groaning she stared at her reflection as she ran her fingers over her face: her lips were pale, she had bags under her eyes, which were red from staying up so late. Her freckles - the ones that she tried so desperately to disappear using Oriel's mixtures, were more prominent on her bloodless features. Maybe I could somehow turn pallor mortis into a fashion statement, she thought.
She hugged a pillow while she thought of the night before. After meeting in the courtyard, Mercutio had convinced her to go to Lord Darcy's party, saying that they should celebrate Sarah and Jareth's future marriage. Lavinia had not been able to say no to him at that moment, she didn't know why.
So she went and, surprisingly enough, enjoyed herself. Almost allowed herself to feel for Mercutio again. Almost. "Maybe one day," she said, dropping her head onto the pillow. Or maybe she could stay like this; keep her head on the pillow and end her life. It only takes a few minutes. And then she would be gone and her troubles and nightmares would be over.
But no, and let Jareth go unpunished? No, never. Her plan didn't work, but Julian's will.
But sometimes…sometimes Lavinia wished that she could go back in time. When they were one big happy family. When Lavinia had been friends with Jareth, when she was still Mercutio's fiancée and all she had to think about was what to wear to dinner and how to run away from her chaperone.
She stood and made her way to the bath. She stewed in the tub for a while, letting a mask dry on her face and planning out what to do tomorrow. Maybe she should see Sarah today, and they could go shopping. She needed something to keep her from moping over the past.
She opened the wardrobe, chose a light, flowing dress and began brushing her hair. Perhaps they could talk about getting her new dresses or about boys or something. She went downstairs.
"Oh, you're awake!" a soft voice cried. Lavinia gasped then sighed. It was just her mother, sitting on the sofa, a small table of food placed in front of her.
"Mother, what are you doing here? I thought you were going to Siowen to visit someone."
Lady Farrix smiled at her daughter. "Well, not for a while now. Let's sit and eat." Lavinia hesitated. "Unless of course, you have somewhere to be right now."
"No," Lavinia said, sitting down. Lady Farrix spooned the eggs, bread and cheese onto plates and handed on to her daughter.
Silence.
Lady Farrix cleared her throat. "Well, how are things, my dear?"
Lavinia shrugged, "Nothing new is happening. Just the same old things."
Lady Farrix looked down at her plate, picking at her eggs with her fork. She laughed softly, then it faded. "Sometimes…sometimes I worry about you, you know. It seems as if - I mean - you just changed so much since, since. Well, you know."
Lavinia tensed, instantly defensive. "I'm fine, mother. If I've changed, it's because I grew up." She sighed and stood. "I have to go now." She left quickly, afraid of what her mother would say if she stayed.
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"Well done, Your Highness," Devlyan, an advisor of the kingdom patted Jareth's arm. She was an old friend of the royal family. She was an old and wise woman, being present since the creation of the Underground and her advice was widely requested throughout the kingdoms. But she was a resident of the Goblin Kingdom and the only mother Jareth had known.
"Thank you, Lady Devlyan, I might keep this kingdom together yet," he said, reminding her of an inside joke. The lady laughed, and linked her arm through Jareth's, slowly steering him through the halls to the library.
She poured him a brandy and they both sat, both of them cherishing their time together. She smiled and spoke first. "I've overheard the servants whispering in the corner of the dining room. It seems that you are courting someone?"
Jareth sputtered and accidentally swallowed too much.
Devylan laughed at his reaction and patted the chair in front of her. "Oh come now! Don't be so embarrassed, I know everything about love. So who is she?"
Jareth sat down, wondering what to say. It's been so long since anyone had actually asked him about Sarah besides Mercutio. And to think of it, Mercutio hadn't said a word to him about it. "Well," he started. "It is really no one's business."
"What? Of course it is! At least it's my business."
Jareth's eyebrows rose. "Ah, of course. Well, with an argument like that I suppose I must humor you." Although his tone was sarcastic, he was smiling when he said it. "She's a mortal."
"Really?" Devylan was surprised. "Did she fail the labyrinth?"
"No, no. It's her second visit here."
"And?"
"And…what?"
"Jareth this is like pulling teeth, spit it out!"
Jareth smiled, Devylan was the only one who would scold him. He sat back, not really wanting to say anything about Sarah. It was like a secret, knowing something precious that no one else did, but as soon as the secret was learned, the value of it falls. "Well. She is young, with black hair and green eyes - like new grass. She is shy and strong spirited, but stubborn and impulsive at the same time."
The lady raised her eyebrows. "And is that all? I heard that she is a great beauty, and that she is as mysterious as the king who is longing for her."
"What are the names of these servants again?" Jareth asked dryly, amused at the tales his servants spun.
"Well," Devylan scoffed, "I wouldn't know. And why did you tell me? It doesn't take so much time to write to a lonely old woman."
Jareth chuckled and answered with: "Write to her? Why, when all I will receive is criticisms of my handwriting and moaning over my small vocabulary?"
Devlyan lightly smacked his arm. "And this girl? Her name?"
"Sarah, she lives in the castle."
"Really? In the castle?" Jareth caught the insinuation of her tone.
"Fear not, my lady, I have not seduced her. She is not my mistress."
"No," she mused, "I suppose not. She is different from all the others: you smile when you speak about her. And what else?"
"I don't really know her that well," Jareth admitted, "I am trying to though."
"Trying to?" she looked worried. "And this young lady is not receptive to your advances?" Devlyan was worried, if the girl was not won over, then surely Jareth would be heartbroken. She had never seen him so animated over anyone before.
"She is…hesitant," Jareth said, almost wistful.
"Perhaps she was scorned before. Maybe she protects herself from further hurt?"
Jareth looked into his drained glass, thinking of Sarah. It was quite clear that something awful must have happened to her after the labyrinth. She had changed so suddenly from what he last remembered. Still stubborn and passionate, but also more cautious and nervous. She acted as if she expected him to pounce at her. And other times it was as if she wanted something more. "Perhaps," he agreed finally.
Devylan nodded, respecting his reluctance to speak about someone so close to his heart. "As a mortal, she might not know how to act towards royalty, or she might not be well schooled in the arts of courtship. She is young, Jareth. Patience is the best answer."
Jareth nodded. Patience? Who can feel patience when you were consumed by such feelings?
Devylan was speaking again, "Now, help an old lady up and walk me to my carriage."
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Lavinia ran through the main courtyard, trying to leave everything behind.
But still unable to outrun the past.
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Sarah strolled through the city, feeling more relaxed that she had in days. No one to watch her, no one to comment on what she said, no watching her words and backtracking on her lies. Just pure relaxation.
Maybe not pure relaxation,she thought as she dropped a letter in the bag of a postman. She used some of the time to write a letter to Julian about her newfound knowledge along with some curse words from the Aboveground that he may or may not understand.
"Boo!" Sarah screamed. "Mercutio!" She whispered, afraid of making a scene. She began to smack him. "Why do you feel the need to keep." She began to hit him with every word. "Popping. Out. Of. Nowhere? Aarrgh!"
"Ouch!" He covered his head, laughing as he crouched to protect himself. "Ouch! Desist! I admit defeat my lady!" The thought of Sarah, so small and skinny, being so ferocious was more laughable and adorable than frightening.
"Why are you always following me?" she was smiling though with a hint of suspicion in her voice.
"Well, you are alone right now. And you were alone yesterday…so I took it upon myself to be your guard," Mercutio congratulated himself for finding a good excuse so quickly. "So why does Lavinia leave you alone so much?"
"I don't know," Sarah admitted. "Maybe she's shopping or brushing her hair or something."
Mercutio chuckled, knowing that she was not far off from the truth. "So, what are you doing about town? And looking very nice too."
Sarah shrugged. "I felt like getting out. You can only stay inside a castle for so long without going crazy." She started walking, Mercutio following her.
"So," he struggled to find something to talk about. "How are you enjoying your stay?"
"It's nice, I suppose," she said absentmindedly, fingering her curls. "I'm learning a lot of things."
"Such as?"
"Well, Jareth is teaching me how to paint and draw."
Mercutio smiled inwardly, then spoke. "Jareth is quite talented in the arts. Maybe he can teach you how to play the piano-forte."
"Piano? I already know how," Sarah remembered all the lessons she took when she was younger.
"So, how are things with you and the king?"
"The king and I?" Sarah thought about their psuedo-relationship. "It's all right, I guess. We're just friends."
"Friends who kiss?"
"Friends with benefits then."
"You know, friends with benefits usually become more than just friends."
Sarah stopped and turned to him. "Why are you so interested in us? Jareth and I."
He smiled charmingly. "The king is my best friend, if you didn't notice before. He thinks highly of you, very much so. I like you, you seem like a very nice girl. You…you interest him." Mercutio spoke on, trying to make her understand. "You don't know the power you have over him."
You have no power over me.
Sarah gaped at him. Her? Power over such a powerful man? "I doubt that," she scoffed, trying to hide her amazement.
Mercutio shrugged, "Believe what you will, then."
They walked on.
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Jareth stepped onto the carriage, telling the driver to go on. He had just finished inspecting the last of the city and it was nearly dusk. A sharp knock on the window made him start. He opened the sash, "Lavinia? What are you doing here?"
She was dressed poorly, it was raining and she was almost blue with cold. Her long red hair was flattened and plastered onto her back and sides. "Can I come in?"
"Of course."
He handed her a blanket when she returned. They didn't speak for a bit, Lavinia trying to get warm.
"How are you?" doing Jareth asked finally.
She tensed. "Fine. Why? What have you heard?"
Jareth shrugged. "No one has been saying anything. I am merely asking you if you are well. It was a surprise to Mercutio and I when we learned that you came back."
"It's none of your business."
Jareth sighed. "Lavinia, remember when we used to be friends? I know that the years have been have been hard for you, but you needn't keep everything under wraps. You just seem as if - "
"How is Sarah?" She asked brightly, obviously changing the subject.
"I don't know. I did not see her at all today."
Silence.
"This is very awkward," Lavinia said softly.
Jareth nodded. "Indeed."
"Sarah fancies you, you know," she said slyly. In such close quarters, Lavinia didn't give a damn about anyone as long as she finished what she so longed to do.
Jareth tried not to show interest. "Does she?"
"Oh, yes. She is just shy." Lavinia thought fleetingly that this might be disastrous, playing games like these. But anything to encourage the king's feelings.
"And I suppose that both of you have become great friends since her return?" Jareth's voice was neutral.
"Hmm." she agreed. "We talk every night. She told me that you liked to ride horses and such. Well, this is where I get off. Goodnight, Your Highness."
"Goodnight."
Jareth stared after her, a thought prickling in his head. Lavinia was lying. He never told Sarah that he enjoyed riding. And although time could change things, he doubted greatly that Lavinia would take such interest in his affairs.
Things didn't quite fit. Her appearance with Sarah seemed contrived. Her strange friendship with Sarah was surprising, considering their temperament. They seemed to hate each other in the beginning, but now, somehow, Lavinia was Sarah chaperone.
Something is wrong, he thought.
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Author's Note: As you probably guessed, this chapter was made to round out the characters more. Especially Mercutio and Lavinia's relationship to each other. And Jareth is suspecting something, yay!