CHAPTER TWO
"Prince Charming fell ill and I had to take his place." Jareth's accented tone lilted in the fresh morning air. His mismatched eyes held a particularly mischievous glint in them, watching as Sarah cowered before him. He was smirking at her, wisps of his wild hair blowing about him in the morning breeze. "Now, now. Why the long face? Aren't you happy to see me?"
Sarah managed to scramble to her feet, clutching the sphere even tighter than before despite the fact that it must have been Jareth who gave her the gift in the first place. She searched her mind for something to say to this stunning, ageless fae man that stood before her. Displaying himself in nothing less than the finest clothing as he casually leaned against the boulder by the creak, he watched her.
"Jareth . . ." she said timidly. He gave her a feral smile before switching his attention to his glove and adjusting it as he spoke.
"You remember my name after all. I suppose I should feel flattered. Now, what is it that you want?"
"You're . . . you're not going to – hurt me, are you?" Sarah asked, trying her hardest to summon up courage. "I mean, after the last time we met I thought for sure you would . . ."
"I would what?" he asked, advancing upon her slowly, like a cat stalking its prey, "Turn you into a goblin? Throw you into my dungeons? Or worse yet, force you to spend eternity in my Bog of Stench?" A small nod from the girl before him was his response. He laughed, not in humor. "Exactly what sort of monster do you take me for?"
Her eyes flitted up to meet his, a sigh of relief escape her lips. She practically fell into his arms – practically. The immediate action that followed was not really an embrace in return, nor was her embrace even expected. It did, however, silence him very quickly. He stood very rigidly as this young mortal girl held him quite firmly around his middle, sobbing into his sleeve.
"You're reaction is very curious . . ." was all Jareth could even think to say, a finely shaped eyebrow raised over his eye.
"I'm just so glad," cried the girl, "that I'm really not going crazy. I'm so glad everything is real. I'm so glad . . ." Her body was quaking furiously, from stress, from nervousness, from fatigue. All those things converged into one powerful mixed emotion sent her body into a tremulous insurgence. She only had a moment to lift her blue-gray eyes towards his before closing them and going quite limp, forcing him to catch her before she fell to the ground. With gentle hands, Jareth held her frail form and slowly lowered her to lay upon the green grass of the clearing.
Resting upon one knee, his long coat spread about him in waves of royal blue and gold, he watched her in her peaceful rest.
"Real?" asked the Fae man, his accented voice floating softly through the morning air. "What is real, Sarah? The ground you lie upon? The air you're breathing? My touch?" the cool leather of his glove traced down her satin cheek. "Real is very relative, my dear, and is constantly defying the senses." He leaned down close to her face, examining her features with hungry eyes. A cocky grin tugged at his lips. In a swirl of prismatic colors, they vanished from the clearing.
Drifting out of a fitful rest is usually only enjoyed when your mind is settled into having no responsibilities when one awakes. Having no worries naturally makes a soft, feather down bed that much more comfortable. Sarah didn't even bother opening her eyes, feeling the smoothness of the fine quality sheets she lay upon, the mattress that melded to her relaxed form, and the warmth from the thick bedcovers. It felt ten times better than waking up on a Saturday afternoon after sleeping in all morning. She smiled, relieved at not having to listen to the blasted lawn mower that morning. Instead her ears were greeted with the sound of bird song coming from her window on her right.
Her eyes snapped open. The realization was sudden and obvious. She was not in her own bedroom. The window in her bedroom was to the left of her bed. Turning her head, she saw several ornate windows on her right embedded in the stone walls of this strange room, decorated with thick curtains that were pulled open. The curtains themselves looked very elegant and aristocratic, navy blue velvet lined with silver. How very strange. Sarah tried to think back on the events that occurred previously, trying to remember what could have lead to finding herself in this room.
It started with the crystal that appeared in her room. Yes, that was it. The crystal that showed her wondrous places and sped up time. Then it was the voices calling to her. They had been beckoning her, asking for her help. She had found herself at the park she frequented often, before her surroundings had changed and she was in a strange clearing with a strange little creature called a moon sphinx.
Sarah slowly sat up in bed and stretched a bit, wondering how long she had been asleep. A strange apprehension took hold of her then. The last person she remembered seeing was none other than Jareth. Of course, she thought, this must be his castle. Her room, she noticed, was very royal, if not small. Well, small for whatever she expected royal to be. Her bed was king sized, large enough to fit three people side by side comfortably. The sheets were white, while the bedcover was made to match the curtains, navy blue threaded with embroidered silver. Looking down upon herself, she noticed herself wearing a Victorian style nightgown of cream colored cotton.
She stood from her bed, feeling a rug greet her bare feet. Looking down, she saw a pair of slippers the same color as her bed cover and curtains. Someone must have gone through a lot of trouble to match everything, Sarah thought to herself. Gladly putting on the slippers, she went across the room to the vanity. It was made of deep cherry wood, with ornate carvings of wildlife around the frame of the mirror. Upon the vanity were several items. A silver handled hand mirror lay face down upon the wood. Near it, a brush of the same metal and design. On a satin pillow in the corner of the vanity rested some brooches of different designs, colors, and metals. While on the other corner lay a shallow crystal bowl that held several hair combs and other hair adornments.
It was relatively easy to guess, thought Sarah, that the Goblin king would not go so out of his way to make all his guests feel this welcome. But why was it her he treated this way? Unless it were all a ploy. Either way, she would have a lot of questions to ask him.
"But what no one knew was that the king of the goblins had fallen in love with the girl . . ."
Her mind suddenly echoed the words. Could it still be true? It was the only logical explanation Sarah could really give herself, thinking back to earlier in the day before she found the crystal on top of her desk. She remembered pleading with the empty air, calling the goblin king and asking him to take her away. So her wish had come true, then.
She sat down in front of the vanity mirror. Had she meant the wish? Sure, she had been depressed at that moment, having no one to support her and nothing to look forward to except life as yet another one of earth's worker bees. She found she couldn't quite breathe very well. With a trembling hand, she took the brush firmly in her grasp.
It was real. By the gods, it was real! She smiled, letting out a slight laugh from the relief and happiness she felt. Slowly, she brushed her raven hair, tidying up the silky tendrils from the bed-head she acquired in her rest. Despite how her mind might have reeled at her new and very strange situation, she really felt relieved and nearly at peace. Granted, she still had many questions that were just bursting forth to be answered. But here, in this place, there was an air that hung heavy and humid, like a comfortable blanket during the wintertime while sitting in front of a fireplace.
It was magic, and Sarah was sure of it. This, in and of itself, made her feel – for lack of a proper term – better.
Her hair groomed, she looked in the mirror briefly. A nightgown, no matter how nice it was, was not appropriate to wear when wandering about a castle. So, she went into the wardrobe. Strange, though, that when she opened the doors to the armoire in her room, all she saw to her disposal were a colorful collection of nightgowns, all of the same relative style for winter nights in a castle.
"How strange . . ." Sarah muttered to herself, closing the doors to the armoire. Maybe there was another chest of drawers to provide clothing. Or perhaps even find the clothing she remembered wearing when she arrived in this strange place. She still had not confirmed that she was in fact at the castle beyond the goblin city. A glance out the window of her spacious room did in fact confirm her suspicion.
The day was actually pleasant. The sky a color of purest azure, with hardly an inkling of any cloud in the bright sky. Looking out over the Labyrinth now, it didn't seem as daunting as it did when she was 15. Oh, granted at that time she hid behind a mask of confidence, a little arrogance perhaps, while battling the villainous Labyrinth that her self-proclaimed enemy tragically forced her to beat in order to win back the half brother she had wished away. Now, however, the Labyrinth simply looked magical and amazing – well, now that she was safe in the center of it.
How safe was safe in the Goblin King's castle, she had to ask herself. She had two choices of course, and both were in her favor. She would find out for herself if Jareth meant any harm or revenge for her. If this proved to be true, she would battle him yet again, confident in her victory as she had done this before, or she would simply leave before he had the chance to do anything. But if it proved false . . .
Sarah never thought past that before. She'd always just considered Jareth the villain in her story. But this was a different story, wasn't it?
She looked all around her room and discovered that she had no clothes to wear aside from the nightgowns she had in her armoire. Even the large oak chest at the foot of her four post bed held only extra blankets. Maybe she had missed some drawers in the armoire when she looked for clothing, so she opened the doors to the wardrobe again. Sarah let out a brief laugh. Where there were once comfortable cotton nightgowns, beautiful dresses of medieval style hung in their place. Again every color imaginable, with several different combinations of silver, gold, or floral embroidered trims. She chose a lavender dress with a slight shine to it, form fitting with gauzy long sleeves that extended at the cuffs.
She gazed at herself in the full length mirror by her vanity as she wore her chosen gown, twirling a bit from side to side and feeling much like a little girl again, playing dress-up. The dress fit perfectly. Of course, a magical wardrobe would be able to do such things, she thought to herself, even measure the wearer of its clothes with magic. Her hair pulled back and adorned it with a single comb bearing a purple rose embedded with a pearl, she found a comfortable pair of lady's slippers in the wardrobe and headed for the door.
It opened with a heavy creak, low and deep. Sarah pulled it open cautiously, quickly poking her head out and looking to see if anyone was around to hear the ghastly noise. The halls were completely empty and silent. Thank goodness for that. Strange though, that her room opened up not into a hallway, but a staircase. Walls and stairs alike were built with stones the color of sand, the sunlight that beamed through a window just next to her door was illuminating the stairway quite nicely. It made for a very pleasant atmosphere.
"What the . . .?" Sarah had to do a double take, as she noticed that the window very near her door showed the Labyrinth and sky and fields in the distance and everything . . . when by any practical means it should have viewed right into Sarah's bedroom. Her room wasn't so small that a window, placed as close as it was to her door, would be far enough from it to show outdoors. Curiosity overwhelmed her, and she went to the window and peered outside along the wall, expecting to see the outer wall of her room. But nothing was there! Not even the door.
Is it really so surprising, thought Sarah. She had to laugh at this discovery. So her room was in alternate space. She wondered if all the rooms were like that here. And if they were, than the Goblin King's castle was a whole lot bigger than what it seemed to be from the outside.
Closing her door, Sarah stepped down from the small sandstone platform before its threshold and descended the staircase quietly. At first, there really wasn't much to see. Just sandstone walls and windows that showed the Labyrinth. There weren't many pleasing things to the eye, even though she had imagined many great things of splendor being in the Goblin King's realm. She imagined that behind the villainous mask, he would have gardens, and artifacts, magical and incomprehensibly intricate and beautiful.
Well, there were no gardens when she looked down into what she assumed was the courtyard, dust ridden and deserted. The goblin city seemed to continue being in quite a state of disrepair, and the trash heap had also not disappeared. Eventually, she did come to an artifact, however. It wasn't as intricate and mind boggling, or even as beautiful as she would have imagined. But it was the first interesting thing she came across.
It was an urn, small and abrupt looking, seemingly stuck haphazardly into the niche in the wall and quickly forgotten – for quite a long time. There was dust all over it.
"You got a problem, lady?" said a voice, gruff and disgruntled. Sarah jumped, only slightly this time (she had begun to get used to things speaking to her at random). "Go on. Move along. Nothing to see here."
"H-Hello?" she tried, looking about her before looking at the urn once more. "Are you . . .talking to me?"
The lid of the urn flapped up and down when it replied, "No, the moron behind you. What do you think, lady?"
"Hey! You don't have to be rude about it!"
The urn heaved a heavy sigh. "Alright, I'm sorry." He said, "But I just can't stand it when people stare at me. I wasn't always like this, you know."
"How long have you been like that?" Sarah had to ask.
"I've lost count after I hit the 6 month mark …" replied the urn miserably. "Let me give you a warning. Don't get the king angry. This is what happens."
"Well, I'm sorry." Sarah really couldn't think of what else to say, but had to wonder just what it was that would make Jareth angry enough to turn one of his subjects (she assumed) into an urn. "Do you think you could give me some directions?"
"Directions? In this place? Ha! Not likely!" came the scorning remark of the urn.
Sarah harrumphed, her hands on her hips and look of dissatisfaction towards the urn. "You're no help at all!"
"Hey, hey! It's not that I don't want to help. But – well. This place is always changing. Directions aren't really possible. The stairs take you where they want to take you, unless they know you need to be somewhere. But sometimes they get mischievous and bored and like to play tricks on you when you're late delivering to the King an important message from one of the outer kingdoms and happen to end up opening the wrong door into the laundry room and stumbling into a tub full of water, ruining the important letter that was to be hand delivered…" Well, that explained how he came to be in such a sorry state. Jareth might have yet to show he was kind, but Sarah was quite certain of how temperamental he could get.
"Okay, I guess that helps a bit. I'll leave you alone now." The lid of the urn flapped only slightly as it grumbled something incoherent before going silent. A sparkle, reminiscent of a will o' wisp (only those were dangerous, and this plainly wasn't), appeared just down the staircase. It caught Sarah's eye immediately and, going by pure instinct, decided to follow it. Perhaps it would lead her to see Jareth, which wouldn't be unlikely. It was his castle, after all.
The bright little sparkle of magic led her through a maze of staircases and hallways (these filled with glorious scenes of wilderness and fae). Finally, the sparkle came into a section of a wing that was dark, the light of the sparkle overpowering the darkness quite well. There were no windows.
So glad you could join me, came Jareth's lilting voice from no where in particular. Please come inside.
Awed but unsure, Sarah timidly reached for the handle of the oaken doors that stood as twins before her, wary of any trickery. Before even touching the cool metal latch, both doors opened into a balcony, brightly lit with ethereal sunshine. A table, long and made of cherry colored wood, waited silently while dressed with fine lace trimmings and silver platters of the most delicious looking foods Sarah had ever seen. The floor was marble but covered with foliage fallen from the trees that found a bit of shelter for it's branches under the dome of the balcony.
Around the area were tresses covered with rainbow colored blooms, and a railing carved with Celtic tree branch designs. The view, however, was the most extraordinary of all. Sarah approached cautiously, as she could see over the railing a most wondrous expanse of rich, thick and bright forests, so vivid that the smell of the trees reached her nostrils tenfold more than any mortal world forest she's every encountered. Through the forest below was a sapphire river, sparkling in the late morning sunshine, it's run leading from a grand waterfall not so far from the little white balcony on which she stood. She could just barely feel the spray of mist. Still curious she looked down over the railing.
Immediately she shrank back and crouched, her grasp strong around the columns of the railing and her eyes tightly pursed.
"You needn't fear." Said Jareth, coming through the oaken door dressed in a fine blue iridescent long coat. His grin was cocked sideways, his boots making but a soft tread upon the foliage strewn floor.
"But – we're so high up! Where is this place?" Sarah asked.
"This place is nowhere." Replied the king, bending slightly to grasp Sarah's arms and lift her to her feet once more. She opened her eyes with the sudden movement. In that moment, they were closer than she ever remembered being – her face tilted upwards to meet his eyes, his breath upon her cheek . . .
"It is an illusion, my dear." Said Jareth. His face was still as cold as she remembered and no longer holding the mild amusement it had had that morning. He released her and pulled out a chair for her. "I thought you might enjoy this particular vista while we breakfasted." Eyeing him only a little less suspicious than before, Sarah gathered folds of fabric under herself as she sat at the table.
"It's – It's lovely. Thank you." She said, trying to smile. Jareth sat across from her at the opposite end of the long table. Pleased with himself, he grinned again.
"And I must say, you've chosen a lovely gown for today. Lavender is quite a good color for you." He leaned his head into his hand as he rested his elbow upon the table, gazing at her with a glint in his eyes and waited for a reaction.
"Again, thank you." Said Sarah, this time a little less patiently than before. At this point, it seemed clear that both she and Jareth were waiting for the other to reveal something – something insignificant or precious that would make or break the delicate line that held their relations civil as of yet. She was almost afraid to talk, afraid to say something. But there were things she needed to know, and so she devised a way of safely asking her questions.
"Why am I here, Jareth?" She noted that he was not eating as she had begun to, but rather was watching her enjoy the small feast by herself. It took a moment before Jareth even spoke in reply to her inquiry.
"Perhaps I should be the one asking such a question of you, Sarah."
She finished a morsel of fruit and swallowed the last bit before speaking. "Why is it you have brought me here, Jareth. I know it was you. I wished for it, I remember. Just before I saw one of your crystals lying on top of my desk."
"Ah, I think I understand. Just because you see a crystal, however similar to my own, you automatically assume that it must belong to me. Still taking things for granted, my dear Sarah."
Memories of the same frustration from long ago came flooding back to her. She clenched her fork tightly and attempted to answer civilly. "I've seen no one else with crystals like yours, so of course I would assume they were yours. What about the clearing. In the forest. You were there when . . ."
"I merely found you there. The point is, Sarah, that I did not in fact bring you here. And before you ask, I don't know who did."
"Well, that's absolutely no help whatsoever." Jareth didn't answer, yet he retained his cocky, arrogant expression toward Sarah. "You're lying. No, I know you're lying. You're a deceitful..."
"Wait..."
"Vengeful..."
"Stop..."
"Bastard of a man who won't lift a finger to do anything unless it were in your benefit."
"Now, that's quite enough." said Jareth strictly, though he still amazingly retained his calm. "I did not bring you here into the safety of my castle for you to insult me and my hospitality."
Sarah stood very quickly, nearly knocking back her chair. "Damn you and damn your hospitality! I want to know what the hell is going on!"
Jareth stood quite calmly, his expression stern however, and his eyes dark. "If that is what you wish . . ."
"Jareth! Jareth, you bastard! Let me out!" Sarah yelled from behind the heavy splintered wood door, pounding on it as hard as she could and not quite tall enough to view anything beyond the little barred window.
"Do not open this door for any reason unless I give you specific permission to do so." spoke Jareth to the short stature goblin guards situated at both sides of the door.
"Yes, your majesty." they replied in unison.
"Jareth, I swear . . . if you don't let me out of here I'll . . ."
"You'll what?" he laughed heartily, sarcastically, "Use your magic against me? Try your worst, my dear. If anything, I'm always up for a good laugh. Oh," he said, suddenly remembering a prior statement before he left her, "and I'm not the bastard of any man, so I very well couldn't be a bastard. You still have much to learn about this world, Sarah. I suggest you think about this very carefully: I could have left you in the that clearing without a second thought as pookas and other very nasty things came out to play with a helpless mortal."
"Pooka?"
"Nasty little fae who place mortals in peril purely for their own amusement."
"Sounds familiar."
"Quite," Jareth replied with a sarcastic snort. "Enjoy your day, Sarah."
"Jareth!" Sarah called after him, pounding the door again, harder than before and acquiring several splinters in the process. "Jareth, come back here! Stupid . . . bastard . . . Goddamn it!"
Jareth walked away with nary a guilty streak in his being for what he'd just done, his boots clicking heavily on the dank cobblestone hallways. He turned suddenly, a flash of prismatic rays swirling about him. He was within his private place, a small pocket dimension in his castle (like so many of the rooms) that was made up of mostly forest, indoor gardens. It was a small piece of where he had come from so long ago.
"You understand that the Queen will not be pleased once she gets word of how you're treating the girl."
Jareth merely quirked an eyebrow at the suddenness the voice reached his ears. Not surprised very often, Jareth nearly forgets what it feels like to be slightly startled. He wouldn't be very used to persons of his equal sneaking up on him, like this messenger for example. Not quite the backwater courier that travels from different kingdoms, sending messages back and forth and beyond. He wasn't dressed for such a part. No, he wore lavish fae clothing, he was tall and dark haired - and enough skill in magic to enter Jareth's private forest grove and gardens. This messenger was a moon elf. A courier for royalty.
"I bring you a long delayed message, Jareth. From the Queen of Tir na Nog."
A/N: Ah, hi there. I'd like to thank all five of you who have graciously taken the time from your day to write a review for my story. It took me a few years, but I think I finally know which direction to take this one. So...
Anonomous Reviewer: I recognized the pace of the narrative being a little slow and I thank you for pointing it out. I will do my best to speed things up. It IS only a fanfic, anyway... I have to remember that it doesn't need to be perfect. Thank you for reviewing!
Lady of the Labyrinth: I recognize you! You've been reviewing Labyrinth stories all over the place! I feel honored that you have stopped to review mine! Thank you!
WildPixieChild: I'm glad you're enjoying it and I'll try to update as soon as possible.
Calendae: Somehow another name I recognize... And you reviewed TWICE! Thank you very much. I must admit that Sarah's anguish in that prologue chapter was somewhat autobiographical - at the time, mind you. Sarah's 20 in this. I started writing this when I was 20. I'm 23 and married now. heh.
Emily Singing Reflection: I'm glad you think my story deserves to be called "great"... I feel very undeserving and humbled. Thank you for your review.
I hope everyone comes back for more! Next chapter, coming up!
Toodles,
C. Selene