Title: The Labyrinth: The Way Back
Author: aviry nolane, slvrluna47@aol.com
Notes: none so much, I'm frantically working to get the next few chapters
together!
This chapter is dedicated to LadySorrow and Solea for absolutely no good reason! Just because I think they're great
Thanks guys!
Disclaimer: nope, still not mine. Sarah seems to have too many claiming ownership and I wouldn't want to get in the way of that. As for Jareth - I'll wait for him to return home, thanks.
b The Labyrinth: The Way Back
Chapter 6 - Necessary Deceptions /b
Jareth wanted to go home desperately.
His first several hours of mortality were not going well at all.
He had walked for what seemed like years to reach the automobile after Sarah made some excuse to leave her building. They had traveled down stairwells, up ramps, past doorways, through halls - it was all incredibly boring to him. He didn't understand why they couldn't have just picked one of the many vehicles they had passed by on the way to her auto. They all looked alike to him anyway, and there was much less walking this way. But no, she had insisted.
And then there was the clothing. She had dressed him in a few of Bill's garments, who he had taken to calling "dear Bill" to rattle her, and they seemed to scream 'vagrant wanderer' to him. But he would oblige, for the sake of his cause he could do with a few days dressed like a common bard.
And then there was Sarah.
To say that she was grossly irritated by the situation would be putting it lightly.
He watched her now, as she slammed cabinet doors and jerked open drawers in her vibrant kitchen. He didn't wish to try her patience any more than he needed to for her to comply, and so he reclined on her white lounger awaiting her next entrance.
She entered a few minutes later carrying two plates of steaming food. She placed one of the place settings in front of Jareth as she pulled a chair up to the table they now shared.
"I'm really not that skilled in the kitchen." She broke in coldly. She didn't like this arrangement, but without conversation of some sort she was sure she'd be lost.
When he didn't answer she looked over at him to find him calmly eating the chicken and pasta dish she had thrown together in the kitchen moments earlier.
She watched silently for a moment and had only just decided that she had been being rude and should look away when their eyes met.
He smiled at her, an amused smile playing on his face. "Yes?"
She shook her head and returned to dinner. It really was remarkable, seeing the Goblin King dressed down in a pair of Dockers and a polo shirt. It was almost funny, the way he seemed to just comply willingly with every part of mortal life she thrust at him. He was aggravated, yes she knew that, but he kept quiet about it. She nearly admired it. Smirking, she chuckled to herself at the presence of the new improved Underground sorcerer, the model house guest.
They finished their dinner without any further words or disturbances between them, and Sarah was almost letting her guard down, thinking that perhaps it wouldn't be so bad to have him here after all.
If he behaved himself.
^ ^ ^ ^
Jareth scowled.
He had no intention of behaving himself much longer. The trained poodle act was getting old quickly.
He sighed and lay back on the couch where Sarah had made his bed for the evening. He was going to have to tell her soon. Yes, sooner or later in the next two days he was going to have to break the news to her that she would indeed be returning with him. He hadn't quite decided how he felt about that yet. On one hand, he was delighted that he would finally have the power over her he had fought for. On the other, he was curious about her reaction to the news.
Would she be afraid? Curious? Despairing?
He laughed to himself as his dimming sight fell upon the aquarium in the corner of Sarah's living space. He already knew the answer, 'she will be furious.'
^ ^ ^ ^
The night passed quickly and sunlight woke the Goblin King from his slumber even before he knew he was asleep. He turned against the blankets and fought his way out of the bedding, his repulsive plaid nightwear fighting him every step of the way.
Rising he made his way around the room, taking in all the aspects visible to him of Sarah's home.
He took his time perusing the picture frames that hung on the wall. There were some of the young boy he knew to be Toby engaging in boyish activity, baseball, hockey, a birthday party. Others were framed shots of Sarah and a few friends, he glanced causally over the others in the shot, confident that none of them held a candle to her. The smile that Sarah thrust toward the camera in each of the pictures was one of calm, nearly serene intellect. There was joy in her eyes, and her head was held high, as if she knew her place in the world and was proud of all that she had surrounded herself with.
It occurred to him, as he caught sight of the final photograph near the bottom, just how beautiful Sarah was. She stood on the stage, her mother's arm draped around her, with a throng of people surrounding the two of them. It was in this picture that a deep glow seemed to emanate from Sarah.
He had always known it was there, as would any passing man or fae on the street, but the physical beauty he could overlook. There was no denying Sarah was an attractive woman and so it was rather a non-issue to him. He had known hoards of beautiful women in his time. He had known of Sarah's tangible beauty when she was still but a child those long years ago.
No, it was not just the physical beauty that he noticed in this moment, it was the compassion that seemed to spill from the very core of her being. It was the fact that he was sure none of these people looked half so joyous when they were out of her sight. It was the fact that she was a strong and ardent woman that filled him with a sense of undeterable need.
A deep regret passed though him in this instant, for having been turned down so defiantly eight years ago.
He shook his head and drew himself away from the wall. He didn't have to worry about that now.
The fact was, these were dangerous thoughts. These were dangerous assumptions, and it was better that he amuse himself with something else in the room than get caught up in thoughts of Sarah while she lay only in the next room.
He made his way past the few odds and ends of Sarah's apartment, the glass bottom table, the black and white butterfly collage on the wall nearest the door, the shelf of glass figurines from her childhood.
He had spied a glass figure of a very familiar dancing girl in the back of the shelf and turned away smiling.
He soon came to be seated by the edge of the table, staring into the depths of the small blue box. The small aquarium in the corner enthralled him. There were fish of all colors and sizes that swam through the bubbling waters of Sarah's mini ocean here, and he watched them carry on about their daily business as he observed. After a moment he reached out a hand to touch the cool glass and marveled at the way the creatures fled to their hiding places. Where they hid was even more of a delightful surprise. Jareth's face lit up at the miniature ceramic statue that lay at the bottom of Sarah's oasis.
He laughed aloud and the few fish that had dared return fled again to their hiding spaces.
A familiar looking statuette of an imposing king stared back at him, standing atop a winding green valley that at once reminded him of his labyrinth.
'Well Sarah,' he contemplated, 'maybe this won't be so hard after all.'
With that he stood and strode around the room. There was nothing more to amuse himself with here, he had poked through her cabinets, toyed with her trinkets, learned of her barely concealed deepest secrets from the bottom of a tank of water. He was ready for something else.
He wandered into her bathroom for a moment, twirling knobs and reading peculiar brand names and product instructions as he waited for Sarah to leave her room. A barely audible click announced Sarah's awakening and he practically jumped with satisfaction.
Huffing boorishly he wandered into the back of Sarah's hall toward the door to her chambers. Despite his basic instinct he stopped at her door and knocked.
There was no answer.
Surely she was awake by now? He had just heard her, after all.
Perhaps he could just peep in and make sure she was alright? Of course he could.
Satisfied with his human rational he pushed the door open.
Confusion graced his features as he stared at a very sleeping Sarah tangled in her bed sheets. He passed the sound he heard earlier as being from the despicable creature Sarah called "Sviddy" who had been confined to the study early last evening lest Jareth get the sudden urge to toss it out the window.
He turned to leave the slumbering woman behind and was nearly to the door when he heard it.
"Jareth?"
He turned around, hoping against hope that perhaps she had mumbled "Carrot" in some sort of half dreaming state. Or perhaps "Jacon" the horrid mixture of his name and some oily breakfast foodery she had cooked up the night before.
Not as such, he discovered.
He smiled at her in nearly an apologetic fashion as he neared her bed.
"I thought you were up," he said stoically, "I was just leaving." He turned to go.
"Jareth," she voiced again, the sleep still holding in her vocal chords, "come here."
He raised an eyebrow at this, but he didn't have to be told twice. He approached the side of her bed silently. Nothing could have prepared him for what happened next.
She moved over, and motioned him to get into bed with her.
He moved toward her, body numbing, and climbed into the warm bedding alongside her.
He took a moment to appraise the situation. A bleary eyed Sarah dressed in nothing but a black tank top and creamy silken trousers was staring at him with a most peculiar expression of worry. She pulled a tie from her hair and let her long brown hair tumble graciously down her shoulders and into tiny half ringlets that spilled onto her back. Yes, she was breathtakingly beautiful.
She inched closer, making Jareth incredibly conscious of their proximity. He remained expressionless, thankful for the warmth of the comforter piled about his waist.
He had thought it terribly funny at the time he had first spied her bedroom décor, all of it being done in peaches and greens - as he had imagined it would be. It brought a smile to his face even now, the irony of her choice in decoration.
Before he could continue to deter his thoughts down another path and away from the possibly still dreaming Sarah beside him, she moved, drawing herself to face him and bringing her practically sybaritic face mere inches from his.
Oh dear. Was she sitting in his lap?
It would appear so.
He swallowed.
She reached up to the bandages that still covered his injury and pulled at them gently.
He exhaled, the loudness of his breath drawing even Sarah's attention.
She smiled, the minx.
"I just want to check and make sure this doesn't look any worse. It was getting pretty bad yesterday."
He nodded, not trusting himself to speak. At this point he was sure that whatever he said, it was likely to be some offhand comment about how infinitely stupid she was, or an impassioned word or two as he pushed her down onto the mattress to make mad love to her.
She tied his hair back in the holder that had only a moment ago swept her hair back as well, then she continued.
He winced as her fingertips stroked the skin where the iron had touched him. She caught this, of course. She drew closer, she was now nearly straddling him, leaning over him to get a better view of his injury, leaving him with his face nearly buried in the hair that fell about her chest.
He decided that perhaps it was best to stop breathing all together, instead of the choppy bursts of air he was now allowing himself. Her even breath fell upon his face in light rushes that made him want to make good on his latter impression of exactly what he felt like doing to her right now.
Her nimble fingertips pressed against the top of the wound, bringing him to a ringing crescendo of pain.
He let forth a guttural moan and grabbed her hand away, breathing hard now with his efforts to control himself. "Don't" He rasped. He was now eye to eye with her and her gaze was thick with concern.
He couldn't bring himself to let her hand go, and he wasn't sure if it was because he didn't trust her, or because he wanted her.
He didn't really have time to consider it.
"Sarah?!"
Her eyes grew wide with the implications of that voice. Jareth remained stoic, any traces of pain he may have carried falling away.
She turned around, her body still resting without doubt on top of the lithe form of the Goblin King.
"Bill."
Ah, the click he had heard earlier. Obviously.
Jareth smiled. "Hello Bill."
What a delight.
Sarah struggled to explain the situation away.
"Bill, hi. I wasn't expecting you so early."
By the look on the man's face before him, Jareth judged that he believed that to be exactly the case. While Sarah prattled on, Jareth took the time to size up the man before him. She had long since moved from her station atop him, and now he had ample thinking room inside his head. Bill had adequate height to surpass Sarah, though not more than five foot ten or so, and had an olive tone to his skin. His eyes were dark, and carried a look of gentle forgiveness under the worry that lined them. His hair was a light shade of chocolate brown and complimented his features well.
Jareth scowled. He was as unlike this man as it was possible to be.
Bill smiled. It seemed the situation had been cleared up and Jareth was now George, from Nevada, an old friend from school. He smiled at her ingenuity.
George it was.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
* ( avi ) *
This chapter is dedicated to LadySorrow and Solea for absolutely no good reason! Just because I think they're great
Thanks guys!
Disclaimer: nope, still not mine. Sarah seems to have too many claiming ownership and I wouldn't want to get in the way of that. As for Jareth - I'll wait for him to return home, thanks.
b The Labyrinth: The Way Back
Chapter 6 - Necessary Deceptions /b
Jareth wanted to go home desperately.
His first several hours of mortality were not going well at all.
He had walked for what seemed like years to reach the automobile after Sarah made some excuse to leave her building. They had traveled down stairwells, up ramps, past doorways, through halls - it was all incredibly boring to him. He didn't understand why they couldn't have just picked one of the many vehicles they had passed by on the way to her auto. They all looked alike to him anyway, and there was much less walking this way. But no, she had insisted.
And then there was the clothing. She had dressed him in a few of Bill's garments, who he had taken to calling "dear Bill" to rattle her, and they seemed to scream 'vagrant wanderer' to him. But he would oblige, for the sake of his cause he could do with a few days dressed like a common bard.
And then there was Sarah.
To say that she was grossly irritated by the situation would be putting it lightly.
He watched her now, as she slammed cabinet doors and jerked open drawers in her vibrant kitchen. He didn't wish to try her patience any more than he needed to for her to comply, and so he reclined on her white lounger awaiting her next entrance.
She entered a few minutes later carrying two plates of steaming food. She placed one of the place settings in front of Jareth as she pulled a chair up to the table they now shared.
"I'm really not that skilled in the kitchen." She broke in coldly. She didn't like this arrangement, but without conversation of some sort she was sure she'd be lost.
When he didn't answer she looked over at him to find him calmly eating the chicken and pasta dish she had thrown together in the kitchen moments earlier.
She watched silently for a moment and had only just decided that she had been being rude and should look away when their eyes met.
He smiled at her, an amused smile playing on his face. "Yes?"
She shook her head and returned to dinner. It really was remarkable, seeing the Goblin King dressed down in a pair of Dockers and a polo shirt. It was almost funny, the way he seemed to just comply willingly with every part of mortal life she thrust at him. He was aggravated, yes she knew that, but he kept quiet about it. She nearly admired it. Smirking, she chuckled to herself at the presence of the new improved Underground sorcerer, the model house guest.
They finished their dinner without any further words or disturbances between them, and Sarah was almost letting her guard down, thinking that perhaps it wouldn't be so bad to have him here after all.
If he behaved himself.
^ ^ ^ ^
Jareth scowled.
He had no intention of behaving himself much longer. The trained poodle act was getting old quickly.
He sighed and lay back on the couch where Sarah had made his bed for the evening. He was going to have to tell her soon. Yes, sooner or later in the next two days he was going to have to break the news to her that she would indeed be returning with him. He hadn't quite decided how he felt about that yet. On one hand, he was delighted that he would finally have the power over her he had fought for. On the other, he was curious about her reaction to the news.
Would she be afraid? Curious? Despairing?
He laughed to himself as his dimming sight fell upon the aquarium in the corner of Sarah's living space. He already knew the answer, 'she will be furious.'
^ ^ ^ ^
The night passed quickly and sunlight woke the Goblin King from his slumber even before he knew he was asleep. He turned against the blankets and fought his way out of the bedding, his repulsive plaid nightwear fighting him every step of the way.
Rising he made his way around the room, taking in all the aspects visible to him of Sarah's home.
He took his time perusing the picture frames that hung on the wall. There were some of the young boy he knew to be Toby engaging in boyish activity, baseball, hockey, a birthday party. Others were framed shots of Sarah and a few friends, he glanced causally over the others in the shot, confident that none of them held a candle to her. The smile that Sarah thrust toward the camera in each of the pictures was one of calm, nearly serene intellect. There was joy in her eyes, and her head was held high, as if she knew her place in the world and was proud of all that she had surrounded herself with.
It occurred to him, as he caught sight of the final photograph near the bottom, just how beautiful Sarah was. She stood on the stage, her mother's arm draped around her, with a throng of people surrounding the two of them. It was in this picture that a deep glow seemed to emanate from Sarah.
He had always known it was there, as would any passing man or fae on the street, but the physical beauty he could overlook. There was no denying Sarah was an attractive woman and so it was rather a non-issue to him. He had known hoards of beautiful women in his time. He had known of Sarah's tangible beauty when she was still but a child those long years ago.
No, it was not just the physical beauty that he noticed in this moment, it was the compassion that seemed to spill from the very core of her being. It was the fact that he was sure none of these people looked half so joyous when they were out of her sight. It was the fact that she was a strong and ardent woman that filled him with a sense of undeterable need.
A deep regret passed though him in this instant, for having been turned down so defiantly eight years ago.
He shook his head and drew himself away from the wall. He didn't have to worry about that now.
The fact was, these were dangerous thoughts. These were dangerous assumptions, and it was better that he amuse himself with something else in the room than get caught up in thoughts of Sarah while she lay only in the next room.
He made his way past the few odds and ends of Sarah's apartment, the glass bottom table, the black and white butterfly collage on the wall nearest the door, the shelf of glass figurines from her childhood.
He had spied a glass figure of a very familiar dancing girl in the back of the shelf and turned away smiling.
He soon came to be seated by the edge of the table, staring into the depths of the small blue box. The small aquarium in the corner enthralled him. There were fish of all colors and sizes that swam through the bubbling waters of Sarah's mini ocean here, and he watched them carry on about their daily business as he observed. After a moment he reached out a hand to touch the cool glass and marveled at the way the creatures fled to their hiding places. Where they hid was even more of a delightful surprise. Jareth's face lit up at the miniature ceramic statue that lay at the bottom of Sarah's oasis.
He laughed aloud and the few fish that had dared return fled again to their hiding spaces.
A familiar looking statuette of an imposing king stared back at him, standing atop a winding green valley that at once reminded him of his labyrinth.
'Well Sarah,' he contemplated, 'maybe this won't be so hard after all.'
With that he stood and strode around the room. There was nothing more to amuse himself with here, he had poked through her cabinets, toyed with her trinkets, learned of her barely concealed deepest secrets from the bottom of a tank of water. He was ready for something else.
He wandered into her bathroom for a moment, twirling knobs and reading peculiar brand names and product instructions as he waited for Sarah to leave her room. A barely audible click announced Sarah's awakening and he practically jumped with satisfaction.
Huffing boorishly he wandered into the back of Sarah's hall toward the door to her chambers. Despite his basic instinct he stopped at her door and knocked.
There was no answer.
Surely she was awake by now? He had just heard her, after all.
Perhaps he could just peep in and make sure she was alright? Of course he could.
Satisfied with his human rational he pushed the door open.
Confusion graced his features as he stared at a very sleeping Sarah tangled in her bed sheets. He passed the sound he heard earlier as being from the despicable creature Sarah called "Sviddy" who had been confined to the study early last evening lest Jareth get the sudden urge to toss it out the window.
He turned to leave the slumbering woman behind and was nearly to the door when he heard it.
"Jareth?"
He turned around, hoping against hope that perhaps she had mumbled "Carrot" in some sort of half dreaming state. Or perhaps "Jacon" the horrid mixture of his name and some oily breakfast foodery she had cooked up the night before.
Not as such, he discovered.
He smiled at her in nearly an apologetic fashion as he neared her bed.
"I thought you were up," he said stoically, "I was just leaving." He turned to go.
"Jareth," she voiced again, the sleep still holding in her vocal chords, "come here."
He raised an eyebrow at this, but he didn't have to be told twice. He approached the side of her bed silently. Nothing could have prepared him for what happened next.
She moved over, and motioned him to get into bed with her.
He moved toward her, body numbing, and climbed into the warm bedding alongside her.
He took a moment to appraise the situation. A bleary eyed Sarah dressed in nothing but a black tank top and creamy silken trousers was staring at him with a most peculiar expression of worry. She pulled a tie from her hair and let her long brown hair tumble graciously down her shoulders and into tiny half ringlets that spilled onto her back. Yes, she was breathtakingly beautiful.
She inched closer, making Jareth incredibly conscious of their proximity. He remained expressionless, thankful for the warmth of the comforter piled about his waist.
He had thought it terribly funny at the time he had first spied her bedroom décor, all of it being done in peaches and greens - as he had imagined it would be. It brought a smile to his face even now, the irony of her choice in decoration.
Before he could continue to deter his thoughts down another path and away from the possibly still dreaming Sarah beside him, she moved, drawing herself to face him and bringing her practically sybaritic face mere inches from his.
Oh dear. Was she sitting in his lap?
It would appear so.
He swallowed.
She reached up to the bandages that still covered his injury and pulled at them gently.
He exhaled, the loudness of his breath drawing even Sarah's attention.
She smiled, the minx.
"I just want to check and make sure this doesn't look any worse. It was getting pretty bad yesterday."
He nodded, not trusting himself to speak. At this point he was sure that whatever he said, it was likely to be some offhand comment about how infinitely stupid she was, or an impassioned word or two as he pushed her down onto the mattress to make mad love to her.
She tied his hair back in the holder that had only a moment ago swept her hair back as well, then she continued.
He winced as her fingertips stroked the skin where the iron had touched him. She caught this, of course. She drew closer, she was now nearly straddling him, leaning over him to get a better view of his injury, leaving him with his face nearly buried in the hair that fell about her chest.
He decided that perhaps it was best to stop breathing all together, instead of the choppy bursts of air he was now allowing himself. Her even breath fell upon his face in light rushes that made him want to make good on his latter impression of exactly what he felt like doing to her right now.
Her nimble fingertips pressed against the top of the wound, bringing him to a ringing crescendo of pain.
He let forth a guttural moan and grabbed her hand away, breathing hard now with his efforts to control himself. "Don't" He rasped. He was now eye to eye with her and her gaze was thick with concern.
He couldn't bring himself to let her hand go, and he wasn't sure if it was because he didn't trust her, or because he wanted her.
He didn't really have time to consider it.
"Sarah?!"
Her eyes grew wide with the implications of that voice. Jareth remained stoic, any traces of pain he may have carried falling away.
She turned around, her body still resting without doubt on top of the lithe form of the Goblin King.
"Bill."
Ah, the click he had heard earlier. Obviously.
Jareth smiled. "Hello Bill."
What a delight.
Sarah struggled to explain the situation away.
"Bill, hi. I wasn't expecting you so early."
By the look on the man's face before him, Jareth judged that he believed that to be exactly the case. While Sarah prattled on, Jareth took the time to size up the man before him. She had long since moved from her station atop him, and now he had ample thinking room inside his head. Bill had adequate height to surpass Sarah, though not more than five foot ten or so, and had an olive tone to his skin. His eyes were dark, and carried a look of gentle forgiveness under the worry that lined them. His hair was a light shade of chocolate brown and complimented his features well.
Jareth scowled. He was as unlike this man as it was possible to be.
Bill smiled. It seemed the situation had been cleared up and Jareth was now George, from Nevada, an old friend from school. He smiled at her ingenuity.
George it was.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
* ( avi ) *
