Chapter II
So, there he was, about to step through the 4th dimension (time) when things started going wrong. First he noticed a weakening of power from his side, and then slowly, but with increasing momentum a strengthening of such coming from hers. Then, the emotion, and then the broken pieces of castle starting to randomly come off of their places.
And then it clicked.
Jareth had heard of time turning back before, but to experience it was another thing. Panic rose up in him, and he felt powerless to do anything about it, as he had not felt in a long long time.
Now he could see that time had reversed its course a while before, almost imperceptibly, and had been going backwards ever since, gathering speed. It was triggered by Sarah's attempted suicide – the breaking of the mirror, or, perhaps, the selflessness of his role's action. It made sense now, but he could not have foreseen this. And that selflessness of his was a very uncharacteristic thing for a fae, too. He should've noticed, but he failed to.
In any case, when he finally did, he felt immediate apprehension at the thought.
Backwards was not a good way to move. When time behaved oddly, it could easily get stuck, as a broken record would, and then his position would be even less enviable, if that was even possible. If she came back… he did not even want to think of that. Reaching through and warning her was indeed his only choice, then, if she could help it, perhaps his warning would prevent some catastrophe that was hurtling his way. But, through the 4th dimension he went, strangely enough, and so did Sarah, as he was in mind-touch with her then. The 5th either didn't exist or had sped by them so quickly that they hadn't noticed, because all of a sudden, he was at his destination.
The 6th.
But there was a definite catch.
He was not only stuck in the center of Sarah's unfathomably difficult labyrinth, he had somehow been rendered completely powerless. He had not predicted that such a thing would happen – his plan was to just step to the center, say – "I rule you, Sarah" or some such phrase that needed to be said and head on back, maybe with a couple of detours along the way, as he picked up his newfound friend. But, that was not the way it was going to work, obviously. He had not only been stripped of his magic, he had bee deprived of his memory of the past few decades: completely clueless about his plan as he faced an unknown and unfriendly environment. The goal was non-existent to the Jareth in the Labyrinth of Sarah: there was no goal. Only at the sight of the castle did it swoop down upon him in the form of unknown longing and intuition, in the form of half-formed thoughts that had tried to take over his role-played self…
And the worst cut of all: he was once again ruled by her image of a romantic villain. Not even realizing it, he was role-playing, and once again in love. Her world, apparently, could not contain him in any other form than the one she created for him… too bad he hadn't been able to foresee this.
The sense that he needed to protect her life as the only link to his lost power meshed with his protective force of love, acted out, and, of course, completely believed in at the time, until he couldn't tell; even now looking back, which one it was that moved him to his folly…probably a borderline between the two. And when, at certain times his real self sporadically broke through it half-formed a new plan – inspired by her persons presence in her own maze: to attain victory through her: ruling her mind, he would rule her person, and in doing that, he would rule her completely, thus accomplishing goal.
But there was one thing, one force, one element he had not taken into account. He simply had not known, stuck between evil plotting, endless boredom, rise to power and role playing, that a heart is also a serious force to be reckoned with. He could rule both mind and body, but did he rule her heart? Without that, there would be no surrender and no winning and no ruling. In a sense, he did…Sarah loved the part of him she had created for herself… it was her weakness… And therefore his asset… but in it lay her greatest strength… and his greatest loss… that he saw. Now.
Now, when all that remained of his physical self was slowly and painfully fading, wilting, turning green and spiky…When the halo around his head was solidifying, till he could hardly see anything…When he was looking at the shadowy twilight of the half-forgotten realm of Sarah's labyrinth through a mist of purple.
Why had he not seen it then? Why? But, it wouldn't have changed anything, even if he had known then. She was too strong, her mental images projected onto his being were much to powerful for him to go against them and not be kicked out of her labyrinth. Those walls of solid mist were not just there for nothing… they were the walls of her labyrinth, her heart's walls... they only let through those images and actions that came from the heart. His or hers? He did not know. Well, they showed her clearly enough. But she did not seem to take him for a real entity, so perhaps it was her heart.
Why did roses absolutely have to have thorns?
Jareth's great mistake, one he could not have not made, was to put all of himself into the fantasy realm. With the eyes of her heart, she could only discern the part of him that loved her, the romantic villain. When it took control, he was able to reach her; when it was suppressed by the shadow reality he was merely a shadow to her heart. For, realities find no place in the Kingdom of Fantasy.
Here there were only roses, roses and pain
"…I dream of rain, I lift my gaze to empty skies above…
I close my eyes
This rare perfume is the sweet intoxication of her love
Had he actually sang this to her? It was coming back to haunt him now. In a sense, he could say he fashioned all of this. No, they both did. They had both dreamt this up.
I dream of rain… I dream of gardens in the desert sand
I wake in pain
I dream of love as time runs through my hand
Time, pain, roses, - these generalized, trite images, these despised clichés were all so very real to him now. They were just images! Just some song that he happened to be carrying inside of him and that had come out during a time of weakness… he never though he had this power. To wreck all good that touched him.
Sweet desert rose… Each of her veils, a secret promise
This desert flower
No sweet perfume ever tortured me more than this…"