Author's Note: For those of you who might be interested, I've written and completed a one-shot called The Forgotten Dream that directly relates to this story. It's quite long, and gives a lot more backstory about who the King of the Dead is and his connection to Sarah. There's also more insight into Jareth's thoughts and actions not covered in this fanfic. The one-shot's timeline overlaps with this story up until Chapter 17 or so, which is where it ends, but it also includes a lot of flashback into the past.
While you don't have to read it to understand this story, I think it helps. There was a lot of material I couldn't fit into The End of Days, because it was just too much to put in one story. I believe the one-shot offers a much deeper look into character motivations and offers more layers of perspective for what happens here. It might also answer some of the questions some of you have about the King of the Dead. I hope you like it if you read it, and thanks for being patient with the delay in updating!
Chapter Twenty-One: Perchance to Dream
Whether it was the unsettling memory of being lost in the Silverwood or the sleep-command tinged with Jareth's bright magic, Sarah could not say. But her dreams were disturbing, fragmented and razor-edged, like shards of a broken mirror that swallowed the light. In this void there was nothing and no one, only a vague sense of undeniable longing that tugged at her with the soft lapping rhythm of waves sweeping the shore.
Come back to me, came the ragged cry. Sarah turned this way and that, straining to see through the darkness that surrounded her. The entreaty seemed to come from every direction and none.
Do not go...
Sarah spoke, but the void consumed her words as they fell from her lips, leaving her breathless. She gasped, and the air was stale as tomb-dust, without warmth or life. Putting out her hand before her, the darkness was an almost palpable substance that rippled against her fingertips. I will come to you, she promised. I will not leave you. Only tell me who you are...
Sarah, the voice called once more, half begging, half commanding. Come...
Her hand still out before her, she took one blind step, afraid of what she would encounter. Something in the air brushed her cheek with an ethereal breath, and Sarah shuddered to feel it. She took another step.
Yes... The voice was now brimming with pain and triumph, a sibilant hiss that halted Sarah's cautious advance. She sent an uncertain tendril of thought out into the void.
Jareth?
The voice answered her with a wordless howl that shook the air with its fury, a grating scream that made her teeth ache. It tore at her flesh with a glacial blast and sent pain shooting up the bones of her outstretched hand until she thought it would shatter like blown glass. The cold would kill her, seeping into every crack of her being until it choked the very air in her lungs.
Please, she whispered, drawing her hand to her breast and cradling it like a broken thing.
But it was too late. The ground beneath her feet gave way, and she was falling out of time and memory...
When Sarah woke the next morning, the Goblin King was gone.
She sat up and yelped in surprise. Her right hand ached abominably, as if someone had smashed it with a hammer. Sarah frowned. She couldn't remember doing anything to it the night before, and could detect no visible injury. If this was the unpleasant after-effect of Jareth's spell, she would give him a peace of her mind, she decided. Flexing her fingers gingerly, she looked around the empty camp. If I can find him.
Logically, she knew Jareth wouldn't simply abandon her, not after all that had happened. But waking up a silent, watchful forest was another matter altogether. Surrounded by the ancient trees, it was not so easy to forget that the Silverwood seemed to have a life of its own. Their pale silver bark gleamed as the shafts of morning sunlight pierced the cool shadows. Although it was peaceful, Sarah had the unsettling feeling that the trees had shifted places while she'd slept.
Belatedly she thought of her first journey through the wood, the terrifying ride on Rumor's back as the unseen creature hounded them at breakneck pace. Now that she was alone, could it return? Sarah darted quick glances all around her, but saw and heard nothing. Rumor was nowhere to be seen. The mare had not let the Goblin King out of her sight since their reunion, her dark eyes following his every movement in the camp. Sarah supposed she was with him now. Wherever he might be.
He could've taken her and left you, a voice inside her head suggested slyly. He's made it clear he only tolerates your company because he has no other choice.
He wouldn't do that. Jareth wouldn't just leave me here, she protested. But she couldn't think of one reason why not, and she fought to stifle her panic.
Luckily, Sarah did not have long to wait.
Jareth strode into sight from the direction of the river. While his clothing was the same black he'd worn since she'd seen him again, there had been a slight change. Now the cuffs of his shirt bore a fine embroidered pattern in silver thread. As he got closer, Sarah could see it was a pair of serpentine dragons, chasing each others' tails around his slim wrists. She hid a smile and smoothed her own worse-for-wear clothing.
"You're looking well."
And so he was. The Goblin King looked physically stronger than he had the day before, despite his stony expression. At her greeting, he gave her a tight smile.
"Good morning, Sarah. I wish I could say the same for you, but it appears that sleeping out-of-doors doesn't agree with you."
That was a lie. Cheeks flushed and leaves in her hair, Sarah looked like a wood nymph, even in the dingy silk tunic and breeches she'd had on for days. She wore his cloak clutched around her as a blanket and her hair fell loosely around her shoulders. Something about the scene made the breath catch in his throat. Dreamer, he scoffed.
Without waiting for her indignant reply, Jareth reached in the knapsack and tossed her an apple.
"Get up." he said curtly. "We have a long day ahead of us."
Fuming, Sarah picked up the apple gave it a vicious bite. By now, she was used to the Goblin King's mercurial moods, and she knew that such an abrupt change surely signaled something significant. So that's is how it's going to be, is it?
Sarah felt strangely tired even though she'd slept for hours, although she'd sooner die than admit it to the Goblin King. But even more strangely, he already seemed to know. Jareth saddled Rumor himself and packed up camp without a word, shaking his head when she offered to return his cloak.
"Keep it."
Sarah went to refasten it around her shoulders, but gave a soft exclamation when pain shot through her hand. In her annoyance at the Goblin King, she'd forgotten about it entirely. Now it throbbed so badly she could barely make a fist.
Jareth was there in a moment, frowning. "What's wrong?"
"I'm not sure."
He examined her unmarked palm, turning it over in his bare hands and stroking down the length of it with his fingers. Sarah suppressed a shiver, but he did not appear to notice. A look of intense concentration came over him, followed by brief uncertainty.
"You are cold, Sarah." he said lightly. "Nothing more."
He took her hand between his own, rubbing them lightly back and forth without meeting her eyes. A faint whisper of magic. Sarah held her breath as the warmth spread to the tips of her fingers, driving away the pain as it went.
"That is... better." she managed to stammer. "Thank you."
Jareth held her hand a moment longer and she thought he might speak. But in the end he merely gave her a slight nod and released her. He was careful to help her up onto Rumor's back after he mounted, grasping her arm and swinging her up behind him. Now he was all brisk and business-like, impatient to be away. Sarah fidgeted, trying to find a way to sit comfortably, but not too closely.
"You'll have to hold on," Jareth pointed out. "Unless you want me to tie you to the saddle."
"How long do you think it will take to reach the castle?" Sarah asked, trying to mask the awkwardness she felt.
The Goblin King seemed no easier about their sudden closeness, sitting stiffly in the saddle with his back ramrod straight. He seemed to be ensuring that as little of him made contact with her as possible.
"Days, perhaps. I cannot ask Rumor to ride as hard carrying two." He patted the mare's neck reassuringly.
Sarah tentatively wound her arms around his waist, noticing a slight wince as she brushed against his still-tender side. She tried to settle her grip a little higher to avoid it, but Jareth still remained tense, so much so that he almost seemed to tremble.
"What will you do once we return?"
The Goblin King's reply was enigmatic, and she regretted that she could not see his eyes or expression.
"I will do what must be done."
Sir Didymus was curled up agains the cold, the tip of his tail carefully arranged to block the wind from his nose. He was not sure what time of day it was, only that it was several hours after dawn. Hoggle had awoken with a groan and scolded his friend for letting him sleep through his watch. Reluctantly, Didymus agreed he could use some rest. He had kept watch all night until the first rays of the morning sun streaked the grey sky. It brought little warmth to the two friends in the tower, but it was more welcome than the dark.
If he would only admit it, Sir Didymus was in need of sleep. Standing watch over an enemy camp was less tiring than this endless waiting for he knew not what. All he knew was that he must not fail his king. Seven generations of his family had served the Goblin throne, all with highest honor. If that line should be broken, it would not be Sir Didymus who did not keep his word. No, the king would return, and he would find his loyal knight waiting and ready to serve once more.
"Swords at the ready..." Didymus murmured, half-dozing already. "Take heart, my men..."
Paws folded firmly over his waistcoat pocket, the little fox dreamed.
It had been a long march in the cold and the wet, the mud dragging at his boots with every step. Separated from the rest of his companions, Didymus was lost in the mist and the rain that sheeted down in a hazy gray curtain. He kept his head down, but the water dripped off his nose and tail in a constant stream and he was beginning to sniffle. It mattered little, he was used to hardship and rough weather. The others had spoken excitedly of the riches that awaited them at campaign's end, for the Goblin King was generous. Rewards were all well and good, but a pair of dry socks would be more highly prized to him now than a chest of gold. That and a bit of goblin cheese would not go amiss, thought Didymus.
And then without warning, the rain lifted, the fog dissipated and the air grew warm. From nearby came the golden sound of a harp playing a melody he had not heard in years. The little knight looked up in surprise, his ears swiveling forward to catch the music. He was in a forest of tall pines, their sharp, clean scent filling the air. His heart quickened... it could not be. His steps quickened until it brought him to a bend in the path, and there he saw it, a sight he had not thought to ever see again.
The castle was built of golden sandstone that almost seemed to glow in the basking sun, with bright pennants flying from every tower. Around its base, wild roses grew in abundance, twining up the battlements in scarlet glory. The harp music drifted to him on the breeze, summoning Sir Didymus with its honeyed song and calling to his mind eyes of deep tawny gold...
"My lady," he breathed.
As he set foot on the drawbridge, silver trumpets rang out to welcome him, and from far away he could hear his lady's voice, warm and full of laughter.
"My knight has returned!"
Sir Didymus started up the the tower steps to his lady's bower, but in his haste he stumbled. The fall lasted an eternity, air rushing past as he tumbled head over heels. It was like dropping into the oubliette all over again, and the little knight exclaimed in dismay. He must answer his lady's summons to court, she was a patient mistress but she could not wait forever...
"Didymus." hissed a voice. "Didymus, wake up."
Sir Didymus came to with cold stone as his pillow and a momentary confusion. Had he fallen down the tower steps? He shook his whiskers and remembered where he was.
"Pardon me," he said, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "I was but dreaming, my friend. A most pleasant dream..."
"Never mind that," said Hoggle, who was not inclined to be sympathetic about interrupted dreams. "Listen."
Didymus cocked an ear and listened. At first, there was nothing. And then he heard it... faint and slow, but steady. It was the quiet drip of water.
"It's the ice," cried Hoggle excitedly. "Don't you hear it? We're thawing."
They rode following the Merandanon upstream through the Silverwood, Rumor's smooth strides pacing away the miles in sunlight and shadow. As they got further from its center, the trees were younger and not quite as tall. More light fell on the forest floor and warmed their backs, for which Sarah was grateful. While it was not as cold as it had been the night the cottage was destroyed, the air was still too cool for comfort. Sarah shivered beneath Jareth's cloak, but the Goblin King did not seem to feel the cold at all. She huddled as close as she dared against his back. Their conversation was stilted.
"We've been riding forever."
"We've been in the saddle for three hours," said the Goblin King. "And you should know it is a long journey, you made it yourself."
"I did, but Rumor and I were traveling a lot faster at the time." Sarah paused. "Something was chasing us."
"Indeed." Jareth's tone did not invite further detail, but Sarah continued anyway.
"It was something enormous, I could hear it crashing through the trees. It chased us all the way to the clearing... where I found you."
Jareth said nothing, but she could feel the muscles in his back tense ever so slightly.
"The History of the Labyrinth says that this forest is the origin of all life and magic in Labyrinth. What sort of creatures live here?"
"Nothing of note lives here now." said the Goblin King shortly. "Except what you might expect in an ordinary forest."
"But--"
"There could be no creature as you have described. Perhaps you merely imagined it."
"I couldn't have!" protested Sarah in annoyance. "And even if I had, Rumor wouldn't have made the same mistake."
Jareth shrugged and remained maddeningly silent, but his thoughts were already buzzing with alarm. He had told Sarah the truth, no magical creatures had remained in the Silverwood after his departure years before. He had seen to that. If she had indeed seen something, been pursued by it... then it was no flesh-and-blood creature. He resisted the instinct to urge Rumor on faster, and surveyed the woods on either side of them. There was nothing he could detect, yet in his weakened state he could not guarantee their safety if they should come across something dangerous. Alone, he might have a chance at fighting or fleeing, but with Sarah... His lips tightened.
Yet there was one more tantalizing prospect... If the creature was not real, then it could be a construct of grand illusion. Jareth knew of only one such entity capable of working such a deed in the Silverwood against his wards, and he did not know whether to fear or hope for the possibility. The Labyrinth had no voice, no intelligence, no outward manifestation. But that did not mean it did not hear... or act. But to what end?
Jareth had his suspicions. Ever since Sarah's arrival three years before, his kingdom had never been quite the same. Always the Labyrinth was his domain alone, answering to his need and demand without fail. But Sarah's coming had changed a lot of things. The very fact that she survived it, and more incredible yet, had somehow returned... If she had not done so under her own power, then there could be no other explanation than the Labyrinth's intervention.
And if the Labyrinth's creature had purposefully directed her and Rumor's course, then it meant for them to find him. It could follow then that the Labyrinth meant for everything that followed to happen. He wasn't sure if he found this reassuring or frightening, but the Goblin King did not like being a pawn in anyone's game.
When they stopped for a break at noon, Sarah slid off Rumor's back and nearly fell as her knees buckled underneath her. The Goblin King was at her side more quickly than she thought possible, catching her before she hit the ground. He said nothing, but a faint crease appeared on his brow. Sarah leaned heavily against the mare's sturdy side and waved him off.
"I'm all right," she said hastily, "Just tired, that's all."
She stumbled over to the riverbank and knelt on the ground, splashing cold water on her face. The Goblin King watched her in silence, arms folded across his chest. His unrelenting gaze made her feel uneasy, as if he could decipher her every hidden thought with a single glance.
"You don't look at all well." he remarked in a neutral tone.
"Yes, thanks." said Sarah with what she believed was remarkable patience, "I believe you've mentioned that before. I told you, I'm fine."
The Goblin King only raised an eyebrow and set about readying their meal. Despite her fatigue, Sarah noted with amusement that he did not repeat his gesture of allowing her to choose their food from the knapsack. Instead, he produced a flaky pastry filled with spiced meat and potatoes, still warm. Sarah wrapped her hands around it, relishing the heat it brought to her numbed fingers. It was getting colder the closer they got to the Silverwood's edge. That's strange, she thought. We've traveled far, but not that far.
Jareth ate little himself, only nibbling at the food and lounging moodily on the riverbank without speaking. He looked a little peaked, as if the ride had tasked his reserves as well, Sarah noticed. Not that he'd ever admit such a thing, of course.
More for the sake of breaking the silence than for actual desire of knowledge, Sarah cleared her throat.
"Is there any way of sending word of our arrival? To the goblin city, I mean."
"There is." Jareth tossed the remains of his meal into the bracken. "But it would be foolish to waste energy on such a gesture when we do not know what we will have to face next."
"Oh." Sarah felt a little deflated. "It's just that... Well, Hoggle and Sir Didymus will worry, that's all."
"I dare say they have other things to keep them occupied."
Like survival, thought Jareth. The worsening cold had not escaped his notice either, and the further they got from the heart of the Silverwood's protection, the more he could feel it. He had not spoken of it to Sarah, but he knew that if there was a castle or anyone left alive in it, they would be very lucky, indeed. A world sheathed in ice, an eternal winter...
"You shouldn't make fun of them, you know." Sarah finished her pastry and fixed him with a stern look. "Sir Didymus always speaks well of you. He believes in you and he always has."
The Goblin King noted that she had diplomatically refrained from making the same claim on the dwarf's behalf.
"And well he might. Despite a somewhat inauspicious beginning, Didymus has had a long and honorable career in service to my family. He has turned out to be a credit to them after all."
"What do you mean?" Sarah frowned. "Wasn't he always a knight?"
"My dear girl, knights are not born, they are made." Jareth seemed more at ease now, leaning back on his elbows and looking off into the distance. "In his youth, it was not certain Didymus would become a knight-- or a gentleman, for that matter. He was a lowly foot soldier, and not an altogether promising one."
Sarah couldn't help but stare incredulously. Sir Didymus, neither a gentleman or a knight? She couldn't even begin to imagine a world where this was so. "You mean..."
"One of the worst rogues ever to enter the royal service." stated the Goblin King. "His own father threatened to disown him, but hoped that sending him off into service would set him straight. Turns out he was right, it did."
It took a while for her to process that thought. "What changed him?"
"Ah." The Goblin King had a faraway look in his eyes. "I believe it had to do with an adventure he had during his years on campaign... and someone he met."
Try as she might, Sarah could not coax further details from him. But she welcomed the rest, and the chance to laugh-- something she thought she might never do again, and certainly not in the company of the Goblin King. She scrutinized him closely, head tilted to one side.
"You're not as cold-hearted as you pretend to be."
That got his attention and earned her a suspicious glance, but Sarah continued hurriedly.
"About Sir Didymus, I mean. You pretend not to care about him, but you know everything about him."
Jareth gave a nonchalant shrug. "There isn't much to know. Your friends aren't exactly profound personalities."
Sarah shook her head reprovingly. "You don't mean that. I can tell you really like Sir Didymus, maybe even admire him. You can't possibly believe he is that stupid or you wouldn't have taken the time to find out so much about him. But you seem to enjoy insulting him anyway, just as you enjoy professing opinions that are not your own in order to provoke people."
"More analysis, Sarah? I thought we'd gotten past that." The Goblin King was tense now, but kept his tone light.
"I'm just trying to figure you out."
"Indeed?" Jareth did not sound at all pleased, and the easygoing atmosphere was quickly deteriorating. "And how are you managing?"
"Not very well," Sarah admitted, "You change with the wind. One moment I think I know you, and the next, you seem a completely different person."
"Perhaps you would meet with greater success if you did not rely upon such ineffective methods to ascertain peoples' characters," said the Goblin King. "Although it would please me more if you did not attempt to do so at all."
Sarah looked solemn now. "But if I don't find out who you are now, I may never have another chance."
Jareth stood abruptly, brushing the crumbs from his breeches. His expression was once more haughty and unreadable. "You may be right, and I have no cause for regret in that matter. But I would by no means deny any pleasure of yours."
Turning his back on her, he packed up their temporary camp and fastened the knapsack back on Rumor's saddle. Each stiff movement was a study in avoidance and Sarah was left to sit with her hands folded tightly in her lap, watching him in regretful silence. When he was finished, she pulled herself slowly to her feet, leaning against a nearby tree trunk for support.
"I'm sorry." she said without introduction. "I didn't mean to pry."
"Yes, you do." Jareth's contradiction was curt. "Otherwise you wouldn't do it."
Sarah dug her fingernails into the tree trunk and fought down her irritation. "All right, maybe I deserve that. But after all that's happened, I also think I deserve to know a little more about you."
"What we think we deserve and what we receive are not always the same." Jareth did not pause in his packing. "It's time you learned that lesson, too."
Sarah had never felt more like snarling in frustration, but she refused to show it. Instead, she rewarded Jareth with an icy expression. I think I like him better when he's unconscious.
"You've taught me many valuable lessons, Goblin King." she said coolly, "And I won't forget a single one."
Jareth's eyes narrowed at that, but he did not address her response. With an impatient jerk to tighten the fastenings on Rumor's saddle, he cast her an enigmatic glance.
"Can you ride?"
Here, Sarah had to admit probable defeat. Even after food and rest, her legs still felt like rubber bands. Standing up already made her feel strangely light-headed, and she didn't think she could make it into the saddle by herself. But she'd be damned if she'd let him win that one, too.
"Of course I can." She met his inquiry with a hard stare.
The Goblin King gave a snort of disbelief. "You can barely stand."
"I'll manage."
With a slight roll of his eyes, he seized her around the waist.
"Of course you will, if you allow me to assist you."
Feet no longer planted firmly on the ground, Sarah flailed in the air with an undignified series of squeaks, but before she knew it, she was in the saddle with the Goblin King close behind. Although she doubted he was smiling, she would've sworn he was laughing at her.
"That was hardly necessary." she told him with as great of a calm as she could manage.
In response, his arm snaked tight around her ribs so that she could hardly catch her breath. Jareth drew a gloved hand down the side her neck, lifting her hair and tucking it to one side. His touch was light, but she could feel the heat of his fingertips through the thin leather.
"I never do anything that is unnecessary." he said, his voice strangely low and melodic in her ear. "After all, you don't want to fall... do you?"
A/N: The chapter title refers to another speech from Shakespeare's Hamlet. Also, hidden reference to Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice, surely one of the most incredible witty romances and hero/heroine combination ever written!
Comments/reviews welcome.