**S'io credesse che mia risposta fosse
A persona che mai tornasse al mondo
Questa fiamma staria sensa piu scosse.
Ma perciocche giammai di questo fondo
Non torno vivo alcun, s'i'odo il vero
Sensa tema d'infamia ti rispondo.
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She stood in an ancient courtyard draped in shadow. Ivy clung to marble columns and the high palisade. Overhead, supported by the thick columns, were wooden trellises heavy laden with fragrant vines. In the middle of the courtyard stood a stone fountain trickling with water. Along the walls, torchlight reflected off of tall mirrors causing the light and shadow to dance in erotic slowness. The sound of tinkling glass toyed at the edge of her hearing, marring the peaceful stillness.
I'm dreaming... some distant part of Sarah's mind whipsered. Unsure of herself, she walked along the stone walkway, entering the deserted courtyard. "Hello," she called out, "is anyone here?"
As she listened, the sound of tinkling glass changed. Now the sound was that of distant voices - laughing, taunting voices speaking too low for Sarah to understand their words. Even though she could not hear them, she somehow knew those voices where laughing at her.
Irrational fear threatened to send her flying. She wanted out of this nightmare, out of this dream. "It's just a dream," she whispered, trying desperately to soothe her fears. The sound of the voices rose louder, drowning out all other sound. Her hands flew to her ears, trying to block out the terrible sound of their laughter.
Suddenly, a single voice broke through the cacophony, banishing all other sound to silence. "So sweet Sarah, you've come to me again."
The masculine voice was smoother than the finest satin, yet it rubbed at Sarah's mind like sandpaper. That voice which had haunted her dreams, fueled her fantasies, had been almost impossible to forget, but she had done it, just as she had forgotten everything else about the Labyrinth. She was a fool to believe that the voice of Jareth wouldn't return to torment her sleep as well.
Trying to ignore him, yet knowing it was impossible, she walked towards the fountain in the center of the courtyard. All at once, Sarah was sixteen years old again, young and defenseless against the Goblin King's wicked power of seduction.
"You tried to forget me," the voice reprimanded, almost sounding genuinely hurt in a mocking sort of way. "I offered you everything you ever wanted. Everything you ever dreamed. And you through it all away in woman's folly." His disembodied voice came from nowhere, yet it surrounded her completely. There was no hope for escape.
"Liar," she seethed. She was no sixteen year old fool, anymore. Sarah was a woman now, and would fight him no matter what he tried to pull. Anger welled up in her breast. "You tried to manipulate me by pretending at love, something you obviously know nothing about. You tried to take advantage of my innocence."
Laughter echoed through the courtyard, reverberating in her mind. Jareth seemed infinitely amused at her accusations. "Tricked you, did I? Oh Sarah, you have so much to learn."
The short hairs on the back of her neck raised up. Whirling about, she saw a man standing in the darkness. Even wrapped in shadow, there was no mistaking the masculine form of the Goblin King. Dressed in black from head to toe, he emanated power. Uncontrollably, Sarah took a step backwards at the sight of him. Her pulse quickened, heart beating at a breakneck pace. This seemed to amuse Jareth immensely. A wide grin spread across his lips, giving him an even more feral look. His eyes flashed wickedly.
It's only a dream.. Sarah tried to reason with herself, but it was no use.
Jareth stepped forward, moving to stand only a few spare inches away. His silken voice toyed with her ears. "So you've come to me again in supplication, Sarah. What a delicious turn of events." One gloved hand reached out to caress her cheek. Sarah resisted the urge to flinch back. "Did you really think you could lock me away forever? Or where you too afraid to even consider why you chose to banish me from your memory?"
Her eyes flashed, her temper flaring out of control. "I'm not afraid of you Jareth. I never was." Deliberately she met his gaze, refusing to step back regardless of his close proximity. She could feel his heat, smell his scent. Being so close to him, even in a dream, was driving her mad with unwanted desire. God, how she hated him.
"If you're not frightened, Sarah, then why are you trembling?" His eyes danced in dark amusement.
She glared at him, cursing her body for betraying her confusion. Unable to think of anything really clever to say, she kept silent. "Get out of my mind, Jareth. I know you're the one causing this dream."
Inclining his head ever so gently, for a moment it seemed Jareth meant to kiss her. His lips hovered over her own for a brief moment that seemed to last an eternity. At the last minute, he stepped away. Dropping into a courtly bow that only seemed to mock her even more, Jareth sighed. "I'll leave if that's what you wish, although I do think it rather unseemly for you to come after me, and not allow me to return the favor."
Sarah practically growled at him. "Then again, you never did play fair, did you Jareth?"
Again, the smile crept across his regal features. "The game is on Sarah, if you have the nerve to play it. Come to me if you dare…"
Jareth's voice faded away. The tinkling sound of glass filled her mind once again. Darkness threatened to overtake her, ending the unpleasant dream. As everything dissolved into black, realization came over her. It wasn't the sound of glass she was hearing. It was the sound of the crystals Jareth toyed with in his hands…
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Sarah jerked awake, her body drenched in sweat. Words spoken long ago reverberated in her mind. Fear me, love me, do as I say, and I will be your total slave… An offer she almost couldn't refuse. Almost…
Groaning in frustration, she pushed back the heavy covers then pulled herself out of bed. She glanced around the strange room, taking a few moments for reality to sink back in.
The hotel in which she currently resided was a paragon of luxury. Standing barefoot, she curled her toes in the thick carpeting before moving towards the floor to ceiling windows that covered one wall. Sarah pulled back the heavy curtains, her breath catching in her throat at the gorgeous view. It was like a postcard. The turquoise ocean spread out beneath her like a jeweled blanket, decorated with pearls which were the tiny white boats of fisherman. A pristine white beach clung to the edge of the ocean like fine lace, beckoning visitors. Monaco was nothing, if not beautiful.
Making her travel arrangements was easy enough. The advent of internet travel made finding a flight and a hotel simply a matter of clicking a few buttons. Now, a plane and a train later, she was in Monte Carlo.
"What have I gotten myself into," Sarah whispered. Not even the peaceful scenery below could quell the storm of doubt which raged inside. Her dream of Jareth was already fading, yet it still left it's impression on her mind.
Two days ago, life was perfectly ordered, perfectly routine. She was in control. Now, she was getting visits from figments of her imagination. She was dangerously close to losing her job. She was standing in a hotel room halfway across the world, all of this in the name of hunting down a guy with an affinity for lace and crystal balls. To top it all off, Jareth had apparently decided to grace her dreams – a problem she hadn't had since she was 16 thank you very much.
She glanced again at the view outside, fighting to gain control of her spiraling emotions. "First things first," she muttered to herself. Sarah sat down at the desk set against one of the walls, plugging her laptop into the ethernet jack. A few seconds later, her fingers were flying across the keyboard sending Silas a note.
I've given our conversation a lot of thought, Silas. I think, as always, you know what's best. So, I've decided to take your advice completely and wholeheartedly. You know me, when I decide to do something… Anyway, I wanted to let you know that I've finally decided to use that passport. I've planned a short vacation in Monaco first, perhaps I'll move on somewhere else in Europe later on. If you need me, I'm standing at the Hotel de Paris here in Monte Carlo.
Carpe Diem and all the crap,
S.
After sending her brother Toby a similarly evasive email, Sarah logged off, her conscious heavy. She didn't like misleading everyone, but what else could she say? I've gone off on a wild goose chase to find the king of goblins?
…Jareth…
That jerk was going to have a lot to answer for when she finally got her hands on him. Destroying the Labyrinth was only part of it. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw his own staring back at her own. Those damned, cruel eyes, lacking even a shred of human warmth or feeling. Eyes that could pierce her heart, tearing it to shreds. Sarah remembered how he had once tried to manipulate her – all in the name of winning his pointless game. Toby's life had been at stake. All that bastard wanted to do was win, no matter what the costs.
But she hadn't let him. She beat Jareth's labyrinth fair and square, even when he hit below the belt. When he knew she had won, he tried to trick her into believing he loved her. The dryad Kiefer was wrong. Jareth never loved her. That's not why he left the Labyrinth, Sarah was sure of it. He just couldn't stand the fact that he lost, so he took his anger out on his creation instead.
"Enough of this," she reprimanded herself firmly. "I'm never going to find him if I spend all day thinking about it."
Even if you do find him, how on earth are you going to convince him to return, a voice in her mind whispered – a voice that sounded suspiciously like her stepmother.
Sarah couldn't answer that. Honestly, she didn't know. She hoped she could figure that out before the time actually came.
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Monaco was a tiny nation once highly sought after by it's neighbors Italy and France. By the cunning manipulations of the ruling Grimaldi family, for the past 700 years Monaco maintained its sovereignty despite making certain "concessions" to France.
The city-state itself was small enough that a person could completely cover its width and breadth in a day, if they so desired. But with all of the sights and sounds of the city and beaches, who in their right mind would want to?
The highlight of Monaco was Monte Carlo – the mecca for all things gambling. This place was no Los Vegas, however. While there were some touristy spots, many places could only be accessed by the rich and powerful. The right tuxedo could literally open and close doors in this place.
Sarah wasn't looking for gambling though. She couldn't see Jareth being even mildly interested in that scene. No, he was more of a pleasure kind of man. Much more of a partying type.
And who in the world knows how to party like a college kid?
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Following that line of reasoning, Sarah's first stop for the morning was the student commons at the International University of Monaco. She had become so accustomed to campus life, considering her years as student turned professor, she slipped through the foreign university with ease. Being polylingual had some definite advantages. Because of her chosen major, Sarah studied and was fluent in French, Spanish, and even knew some Greek. Latin was an almost necessity when researching ancient European history. As she hoped, the language barrier was not an issue so it was easy to pick up the names of several local party houses.
Satisfied that she at least had a starting point, Sarah hit the local markets, indulging in the rare opportunity to immerse herself in a foreign culture. She had always dreamed of traveling. It was just such a shame that it took so long and such forced conditions for her to actually do it.
Back at the hotel room, Sarah munched on an apple picked up in the open air market. While she was outside, the nightmare she had experienced seemed miles away. Now that the sun was setting, the prospect of actually finding Jareth seemed almost overwhelming. She couldn't shake the nervousness that relentlessly pounded her mind. Even if she did find Jareth, what would she even say to him?
"Go back to the Labyrinth or I'll kick your lace-wearing ass? Or how about umm, Jareth? Did you realize you left your world in ruin? Oh hey, here's a good one – if you go back to the Labyrinth, I promise to shine your boots for a whole month."
Sarah sighed, doubts clinging to her mind like a stale fart. "This isn't going to work," she fretted. Closing her eyes, she imagined Ludo, Sir Diddymus, and Hoggle the way she remembered them. Even now, she simply couldn't accept the idea that they were gone. What if Jareth couldn't bring them back after all?
"This is all my fault," she whispered. Shaking her head, she pushed back the despair that threatened to overwhelm her. She had fought too long to keep her emotions at bay to let them get the best of her now. She would find Jareth then make him return to the Labyrinth by any means necessary. "Even if I have to hit him over the head and force him myself," she said with a grin.
Feeling better, she contented herself with pouring over her limited wardrobe, chastising herself for not bringing anything even remotely partyable. Setting on a pair of black slacks matched with a pale blue silken blouse that brought out the smokiness of her eyes, Sarah headed towards the shower. It was time to start hunting.
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Okay, so finding Jareth might not be as easy as she originally hoped. The party places the college brats recommended were packed with people – just not the kind of people she needed. While the pleasure palaces seemed like a great place for scoring a few body shots, Sarah instinctively knew this wasn't what she was looking for. For one thing, they lacked the sophistication a man like Jareth would crave.
Giving up on her college leads, she broke down and asked the bartender for direction.
She was in luck. Hoping into a cab, she was pleased to see the entire atmosphere gradually change as the headed into a much more expensive part of Monte Carlo. After a her quick jaunt, the cabbie dropped her off in front of a classy little joint named L'Mer de Pize.
Once inside, Sarah was shocked by the change. Gentlemen dressed in expensive designer suits lounged on leather settees discussing business in low voices. Women decked out in jewelry and dresses gathered in clusters. She felt the disapproving eyes from the patrons, heavy as weights as she made her way to the bar in the center of the room.
Feeling out of place and underdressed, she slid onto a stool. "Mademoiselle," the tender inquired politely.
"White wine please," she ordered, a polite smile on her lips. Her cheeks were burning with embarrassment. She could only hope they weren't as red as they felt.
When he returned with her drink, she leaned forward. "I'm looking for a gentleman. Perhaps you could help me?" She smiled pleasantly, trying to keep her voice low. This place was making her feel awkward – out of place. Glancing around, she noticed two other men sitting relatively close by. One was an elderly gentleman sipping a glass of port. He seemed occupied with watching the flames in the nearby fireplace. The other was a young, oily looking man with a sharp, pinched face – a face she instantly disliked. Looking at him gave Sarah the impression of a weasel. He was openly staring at her, not even attempting discretion. Sarah frowned, turning her attention back to the bartender.
"A gentleman, you say? What would be his name, mademoiselle?"
Sarah paused, a panicked thought suddenly occurring to her. What if Jareth didn't use his name in this world? She would have to try it anyway. What choice did she have? "His name is Jareth. He's an old friend of mine, you see. I heard that he was here in town, but I'm not sure how to find him."
The sudden gleam of interest in the weasel's face was unmistakable. Sarah didn't notice, her attention left solely on the bartender's sudden moodswing.
The friendliness had drained from his face, replaced by some dark, ugly emotion. "Who do you say you were looking for?"
She blinked in confusion. "His name is Jareth…" Her voice faltered no matter hard she struggled to keep it steady. Sarah felt exposed – as if everyone in the bar was suddenly watching her, listening to her every word.
The bartender's eyes narrowed, lips spreading into a thin line. "I know nothing about that snake mademoiselle. If you have even a shred of intelligence, l'enfant, I advise you to stay the same way."
She shook her head, unbelieving. The last thing she expected was to get such an angry reaction from this guy. "Listen, you don't' understand. I have to find him," she couldn't keep the desperation from creeping into her voice.
Shaking his head in disgust, the man turned and walked away. Sarah's cheeks burned in embarrassment. If people hadn't noticed her enter, they certainly turned to watch her leave. Stepping into the cool night air only helped to cool her embarrassment marginally. She considered calling a cab, but decided to walk home instead. Hopefully, the walk might help her clear her jumbled mind.
It was obvious to her that the bartender knew something about Jareth. Only the Goblin King could make somebody that mad, she thought with a grin. Now the question was how to get the guy to talk.
A sense of uneasiness crept over her. Suddenly she was aware of the sound of footsteps following close behind her own.
"Mademoiselle," a thin, whispery voice called.
Sarah whirled about to see the weasely man from the bar. Her stomach clenched nervously. "Why are you following me?"
The man held his hands up in an innocent gesture. "Pardon me, but I was only trying to help, you see. I couldn't' help but overhear you earlier. It would give me such pleasure to help such a sweet lady as yourself. Perhaps you will allow me to assist?"
Sarah did not like this guy. She was all too aware of the dimly lit sidewalk for the moment vacant of other people. It would be all too easy for this guy to turn psycho. "So you know Jareth, do you? Any idea where I can find him?"
The man moved quickly , closing the gap between them. Sarah's danger sense was screaming for escape. …But she had to find Jareth, no matter what the cost.
"I know a Jareth. Perhaps he is the one you seek?" He held out his hand. "Perhaps you would like me to take you to him?"
She took a step backwards. "Maybe you can just give me the directions? It's pretty late."
Catching her completely off her guard, the man darted forward lunging out unexpectedly. He grabbed her arms, slamming her up against the side of a building. The impact painfully forced all of the air out of her lungs. Her surprise at the viciousness of this sudden attack left her momentarily defenseless. Before she could even fight back, she felt the cold steel of a knife held against her throat. "Not too late for a bit of amore, my sweet, wouldn't you agree?" He leaned in close enough that she could smell the stink of stale sweat. "Perhaps you would just prefer to come to my home and we can find this Jareth together?"
The sound of a sickening thud startled her so badly she almost screamed. Shocked, she watched as her attacker slid to his feet, unconscious. It took her shocked mind several moments to fully register what had happen. Standing behind her fallen attacker stood the elderly gentleman from the bar tucking the cane he had used to knock the weasel unconscious back under his arm.
"Coward," he murmured in a perfectly cultured English voice. "Men like that never feel quite so randy after getting smacked in the skull, eh?"
Her jaw dropped open. She tried to think of something to say, some word of thanks, but simply couldn't. She was too shocked.
The man dropped into a courtly bow. "You're Sarah Williams, I presume? Jareth's been expecting you."
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A/N: Hope you guys liked the chapter. Please feel free to leave me a review and let me know what you think.
**This is the introduction to The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock by T.S. Elliot
