V
Jareth
Chapter 9
Jareth's second entry to the council chamber was not nearly as spectacular. He merely opened the doors and walked in; sat at the head of the table and glared at his mother, who was gaping like a fish out of water. With a sort of bored expression, he brought one of his gloved hands to his face and began inspecting the leather. The council watched with horror, for Jareth was unpredictable, and that terrified them; all of them save one. She stood staring at her son.
"What do you want, Jareth?" She was not going to let him play games with her, if he wanted to speak, let him speak. It would not be long before he was no longer a problem of hers, and she was feeling tolerable towards him.
A silence fell on the room as the members waited for the Goblin King to respond. Several councilors had already left when Jareth had barged in the first time; the remaining few wished they had left as well. Jareth glanced at the fear in their eyes and sighed, bringing his fist to rest on the table. "I only wish to speak to my mother," that title was venom on his tongue, but he swallowed and forced himself to continue, "The rest of you may leave." Jareth smirked as the old faces practically fled his presence. He watched as the last councilor shut the doors before turning his gaze to his mother. She had sat herself at the other end of the table; both hands placed palm down on the table. "Well, Mother, what have you decided to do to me this time?"
Her eyes hardened and she brushed back a stray golden strand of hair, "Do not flatter your self, my son. All that is placed upon you, you deserve."
"Really?" He stood and began walking towards her, stopping a few feet from where she sat and sat on the table, "Mother, I have not done anything to do, why do you choose to punish me so?"
The councilwoman searched the mismatched eyes that matched her own. Was her son trying to connect with her? Trying to evoke some sort of maternal feeling? She laughed aloud, and watched as Jareth recoiled. "Jareth, why are you here? Surely it is not to remember the past."
Jareth shook his head and stood, "What are the depths of this curse that you have placed on me?"
This statement caused her brows to rise. Jareth knew about the curse…that was unforeseen. She had wanted him to remain in the shadows as the spell took effect, stripping him of his desires and of his sanity. She sniffed slightly and shrugged. "It is designed to destroy you, Jareth." His lips pursed and that caused her to laugh again, "Not pleased, my son?"
Before he could control himself, he reached out and grabbed her by the throat, his gloved hand tightening slightly as her eyes widened and she brought her hands to his wrist. "So you enjoy torturing me, mother?" Her lips parted to speak, and he tightened his hold; watching with a sick amount of satisfaction when her eyes wobbled. "And no, I am not pleased. I expect better from my own 'mother'," once again the word was forced from his lips. She began to thrash beneath his grasp, fighting for air, and as much as he wanted to squeeze the life out of her heartless body, he released her, throwing her to the side as he did. Her form racked on the floor as she gasped for the life-giving air flowing into her lungs. Jareth stood, shaking his head, no sympathy in his eyes, for he truly wished her dead. He turned from her and began walking towards the doors. "Goodbye, Mother," was all he said to her trembling form, but he knew the look she was giving him, for his eyes reflected much the same; they both wanted the other dead.
Chapter 10
Sarah grunted as she lugged the stroller up the second flight of stairs to her apartment. Out of all the days, why did the manager choose today to perform maintenance on the elevator; the one day when she was moving her best friend into her spare bedroom? Not to mention that Carol was still too weak to carry anything up the flights, which Sarah understood, but still; this was her fourth trip, and she was god awful exhausted. Already several boxes littered her living room floor, and in her hands now were a stroller and a basinet.
She slumped to her couch as she dropped the items on the floor. Her back ached, her shoulders ached, hell, every inch of her ached, but at least she was done. All that was left now was a tired woman with her sleeping baby to make the new home complete. She pushed herself off the sofa and tiptoed her way through the boxes to the intercom at her door. "Hey Al!" She said pushing the button.
There was a small hiss and then a reply, "Yes, Ms. Williams?"
"Is the elevator fixed yet? I have someone down there that can't walk the stairs." She waited a moment as the com broke off. Her door man, a round fellow by the name of Albert, tolerated her much more than he actually liked her, but she liked the man, and waited patiently for him to return. The com hissed again, "Yeah, he says it's done. Want them to send her up?"
"Yes please!" She replied and let the com go dead. She turned her sights to the boxes on the floor of her spacious living room and shuddered. There was no way she could just leave them there, cluttering her space. Sighing, she began picking them up and placing them in the spare bedroom. She smiled, not really a spare anymore. Carol's new bedroom was lively and bright. The walls were pristine white, the canopy bed was covered with a rose-patterned comforter, and lace curtains covered the window. Sarah loved this room; loved all the prissiness surrounding it. Unfortunately, she found that she couldn't stomach so many flowers, and had replaced the set in her room with a different one. But the room was lovely. She smiled and set the boxes down in corner and resumed pushing, scooting, or carrying the remaining boxes.
The front door opened just as Sarah finished moving the boxes and she watched as Carol walked in, the sleeping baby resting in her arms peacefully. "Well, welcome home!" She greeted.
Carol smiled a little sadly, "Thanks again for doing this, Sarah…you really didn't have to."
Sarah ushered her in and sat Carol down on the sofa. "Don't be silly; you're as much as my family as Toby. Now, would you like anything to drink after all your hard work?" She asked mischeiviously, and Carol laughed. "Because I'm parched," Sarah continued and walked around the corner to her kitchen. She poured a glass of water from a chilled pitcher from the fridge and returned to her living room, watching as Carol gazed lovingly at the child in her arms. "You did the right thing," she uttered sitting beside her friend.
Carol looked up, "Oh, I know; I just hope I don't screw things up for her." Sarah laughed and Carol frowned, "Hey! That's not funny! How would you feel knowing your mother was the town slut?"
Sarah gave her a sideways glance and shook her head, "Carol, mother was the town slut." She laughed at the thought though. She never really got along with her mother nowadays, for she was too busy off living a life that had no room for her daughter. But Sarah just shrugged, some things were just meant to be, and the hole left by her mother was constantly being replaced by something else.
Carol cringed, "I'm sorry, Sarah. I didn't mean it, really!" Sarah hugged her friend. "Don't worry about it, Carol, really." She stood and looked over her appearance with disgust. "I'm going to take a shower. Your bed is already if you want to lie down for a while." Carol just nodded, still looking guilty at the words she had spoken. "Really, Carol; what's said is said, there's no harm done, though." Sarah turned her back on her friend and furrowed her brows and she approached the bathroom. What's said is said? Was she a glutton for punishment, or was there a reason the Labyrinth was invading her life again. She shook the thoughts from her head and started the shower.