Here they are – the long awaited chapters of 'Labyrinth: The Way Back'

I'm still working on finding my final notes, but this is what I have for now.

Title: The Labyrinth: The Way Back

Author: Aviry Nolane

Email: PG?

Comments:

Ta Da!

Every day is a little closer to being finished with this beast of a fic, but I am still far from finishing. Comments encouraged. I want to make sure that I'm doing this right – it's been so long since I've written anything.

Enjoy!

Chapter 21 – A walk in the Garden

The days passed by then, as they sometimes do, each melting into another until there existed no calculable boundary between them. Time seemed to move differently here, almost like a living being, sometimes it ticked along faster, and others slow and lazily.

Today, it was lazy.

Life had become easier for Sarah with the disappearance of a certain Goblin King from her daily interactions. Easier being the understatement of a century.

She had not seen him once since that night when he wandered into her room seeking to satiate a craving Sarah had no desire to fulfill. It was out of shock, she reasoned, that she had resisted fulfilling her own heart's desire that night, which involved her brass hairbrush and his face.

'Luckily,' Sarah reminded herself, 'for him.'

No, she had now accustomed herself to a much more blissful position in the King's Underground. One of happy-go-lucky denial. It was nothing short of the ordinary for Sarah, and had always served her well before.

Sarah's reasoning abilities had kicked in soon after their… encounter. And she now believed, if not wholeheartedly, that while Jareth (Abominable King of the Goblins) may have been – completely is – a merciless and cold demi-God of pure evil, these three kings of wherever were probably very rational, sensible, and most likely completely understanding of her situation. Most likely.

Nelly had given up on the topic of Jareth and all things relative, and seemed to be treating Sarah as if she were on some kind of extended holiday instead of captive against her will. All things considered, Sarah preferred things this way. Together they spent their days roaming the seemingly endless garden and speaking of more pleasant topics.

Nelly could simply not get enough of hearing about the Aboveground. Everything astonished her to the point of senseless giggling. Especially the subjects of driving cars, television and microwaves.

Sarah had been truly enjoying her time spent with Nelly these last few, well, however long, and was still at a loss to explain how someone so innocent and wholly pure could exist in a world so dark as the Underground.

"You know, Sarah" Nelly thought aloud as the pair made their way through a Pollyspeckle patch one afternoon, "I believe you may be the only friend I've ever had."

Sarah nearly fell over at these words, and leaned up from where she had been petting a sleeping Pollyspeckle on the path. "Nelly, how can that be possible? You're such a lovely girl. You must have had friends before me."

Nelly's brow knotted in frustration as she lifted her hand to shield the sunlight from her eyes. "No," she affirmed after a moment, "I never really have."

She flounced her skirts at this and seated herself, in all her finery, atop a mossy stone and tried to free her ankle from a particularly clingy baby flower as it wept.

"You know, aside from my brothers and my husband, I've never really had anyone to talk to about anything. Least of all how uncomfortable my bodice is, or what nincompoops men are." She laughed aloud now, still enamored with the beautifully funny words Sarah had taught her from back home.

"I didn't know you had any brothers, Nelly." Sarah announced, all too excited that for once the conversation had turned to Nelly's past in the Underground and not her own.

"Yes, two," She giggled back, "but both older and very alike. You know, when I was younger, before I had learned any magic at all, they, and my cousin, used to play the worst pranks on me."

"Like what?" Sarah asked openly.

"Well," she began, scooting closer, "They had convinced me that I had learned to read minds, when all along they had simply enchanted everything in my garden to speak ill of me. Telling me my hair was flat and my bottom was too round and that I had a fig for a nose. Things like that."

Sarah laughed along, "that's awful!" She proclaimed.

"Don't I know it!" Nelly bursted, "I ran straight to my father and told him what happened and they were sentenced to mop the floors for weeks."

She was lost then in a silent moment, remembering. Sarah simply watched as the light of reverie swept through Nelly's eyes, as brief as a dream, and then washed away.

"My father died soon after that though, some say it was of a broken heart." She looked straight up at Sarah as she spoke these words, "You know he only lived two hundred years after my mother died."

"I bet she was a beautiful woman," Sarah said gently, placing a hand on the place she believed Nelly's blue satin clad knee to be.

"I assume she was," Nelly brightened at these simple words, "Though I never met her myself. She died giving me life, and for that much I will always love her." She frowned again now, "though it would have been nice to have another woman around as I grew up."

Nelly's face lit up once again, her moods always as changeable as the sky above, "but now I have you to be my friend, after all. And you and I will be like sisters forever."

Forever.

Sarah dodged the bullet almost quite completely, "You didn't go to school, then?" she asked as she placed herself carefully upon the only other object she trusted herself to sit on, a large wooden swing already in motion behind her.

"I was taught by my father, mostly. And when I did finally meet fae women my own age," She paused, thinking, "Well, I suppose I was horrified."

They both laughed then, and Sarah found it nearly impossible to remain seated upon the log seat of her swing as it chortled along.

"Well," said Nelly as she sprang to her feet, finally freed of the now sleeping Pollyspeckle, "I suppose I should go start dinner, after all," she winked, "nothing seems to get done around here without me."

Sarah nodded, and Nelly spoke on, "you don't mind if I leave you here, do you?"

"No," Sarah replied lazily, "I think I've had enough walking for one day. I think I'll just sit here and rest."

With that Nelly was gone amidst a bursting of petals that floated to the ground where they evaporated.

'I have got to get used to that' Sarah mused inwardly as she allowed the swing to sway her back and forth. 'It really is just as shocking every time.'

Unfortunately, Sarah had not given quite enough thought to where she was or whose company she was currently in. Perhaps she would have thought better of the term 'shocking' if she had.

After bidding farewell to her swing Sarah had another urgent problem to address. She wasn't exactly sure how to return to her room.

'Hmm' she mumbled to herself as she crossed the bridge that had led to the garden, "I wonder, which way now?"

She looked left, and then right, and then left again. Yes, this corridor was no different than any she had encountered in the Labyrinth. They all stretched on seemingly forever and looked identical in each direction.

"Well, feet," Sarah spoke aloud, as she had always had an annoying habit of speaking to herself in the third, fourth or fifth person, "I think we'll go left."

Sarah was never an exceptionally good listener.

Chapter 22 - Sunset

It only took one left turn to undo all the rights Sarah had taken in the last few days.

If she turned on purpose or not, I doubt she could even tell you, but the outcome, no matter the desire, was inevitably the same.

Almost at once Sarah found herself in an all too familiar stone foyer, one long solitary balcony window catching the onslaught of nightfall and the beams of multicolored light illuminating one all too familiar form.

Yes, familiar though it was, comforting would just not be a good descriptor.

Sarah, never one to miss an opportunity, was all too quickly quite in her element. The recent encounters with her jailer, soon to be husband or executioner, all came tumbling back in a frighteningly organized way. They all seemed too happy to equate to one single solitary emotion, drive, passion and force: pure unadulterated hatred.

She moved forward as quickly as her skirts would allow, which was harrowing in on nearly a mild shopping mall pace, and before she had a chance to think of what or how to say any of the seething delirious thoughts rolling around in her head, the King spoke first.

He has a knack for it, that much is certain.

His back still to her, he cleared his throat and began in what seemed like a voice lacking the loathsome arrogance Sarah knew.

"The war is raging, Sarah." He said simply, and Sarah, for once, found herself quite without a retort.

She moved next to him then, careful to stay distant from the gloved hand which tapped an unheard melody on the crumbling stone windowsill.

She looked to where the Labyrinth lay spread out beneath her, and in the light of the sunset it seemed almost to be falling asleep as she watched. The sight alone took her breath away, not to mention any words or thought of her current company.

The ground below twisted and turned, not menacingly as she remembered, but like an old, sloping countryside. The reds and blues of the sunlight falling peacefully on it's ins and outs, creating soft resonant shadows which all too keenly stirred her inner romantic. She squinted to see better the basin of earth below, the milling of the tiny city even slowing now as the sun slipped gently into the sparkling warm horizon.

When he spoke again Sarah felt as if being awoken from a dream she was not yet ready to leave, and so she kept her gaze upon the magical feat of nature below.

"The war is not yours alone, Sarah." He murmered, "Nor is it mine."

Sarah's thoughts slowed, thankful she was not being asked to speak, and he continued.

"The war belongs to all you see before you. This land, these people, this magic which ties it all together." She felt him move before she heard it, but made no effort to alert him to her understanding. Again, she focused on the hills.

"They may not seem like much to you, but they are all that I have. And you may not understand or choose to, but the existence of everything you now see, inside and out, now depends on you and you alone."

She swallowed.

"There is a danger here, one much greater than I have ever seemed to you. A dangerous force that would have all of the Underground, all that is and ever will be, a pit of destruction. For magic to die and blood to reign, and," he took a moment and Sarah could feel the weight of his breath now rustle in her hair, "for you to die as well."

The last beam of sunlight now slipped below the horizon and the Labyrinth fell asleep below her. She turned, knowing full well, but still surprised when she found herself face to face with the King of the Goblins.

"I can't let it end this way, Sarah," he nearly whispered, and Sarah found herself once again unmistakably caught in his gaze. Here he was before her, the Evil King of her worst nightmares, pleading with her for something she still wasn't quite sure of.

But his eyes, his eyes seemed to know it all, and she thought maybe if she could stare into them long enough, she would find her truth inside them.

'What do you want, Jareth?' She questioned inside, 'What can I possibly do for you?'

And with this he smiled, and seemed to move in closer, though Sarah could not be sure if he had in fact moved at all.

"My pet," he levied, "I told you long ago."

Sarah remained glued to his gaze as it changed, melted, transformed, so much so that she barely heard his words and if she did, they didn't register.

It was as if his eyes were translating pictures instead of colors, words instead of thoughts, she could feel it, sweeping through her, feel the loneliness that haunted him, she could feel the anguish he felt, if only for a moment.

She reached up then, barely conscious of her movements, wondering inside if as a fae his flesh would now be as icy and cold as she expected.

Her fingertips brushed lightly against his temple, and she let them sink slowly down his cheek, his jaw tightening as she perused the answer to her question.

She felt herself urging him towards her then, the pools of his vision now so changeable that she found it nearly impossible to tell what she saw there.

He had slumped forward so that they were eye to eye when she finally found her words.

"Jareth," she whispered softly, "you're so warm."

His eyes snapped shut then as if she had struck him, and he seemed to release into her touch. At that moment, she wasn't sure what happened, who had moved, who had leaned in, whose lips brushed against whose.

But she felt him, she felt the warmth of his lips graze her own, and she knew what had brought her here to this place with him.

Time spun then and she found the understanding of her mission here. There was no compromise. She would be his or they would both die.

She shuddered at the thought of such a consequence, of such a promise to be asked, of such a man to ask of it.

And in that moment he was gone, he had jumped so far backwards that Sarah was frozen at the idea of how one could move so fast in such little time.

He turned then, his back icy cold to her once more and Sarah felt her limbs regaining balance. He said something to himself then Sarah could only place as a curse, though she understood no meaning in it.

"Jareth," she questioned herself more with the word than him, "Jareth, I didn't mean to-"

Again, she felt him move before she saw it.

His wrist raised, his fingertips flicked, and she found herself once again in her room, a locked door her only companion.

Chapter 23 – Here comes Trouble

She lay awake all night under a cloud of confusion.

Truth be told, she was exhausted. Tonight she had cried for the first time since she had ended up in Jareth's Labyrinth for a second time.

She had cried for everything and everyone she knew and loved, for herself, for Bill, for the life she now had very little hope of returning to. She cried for her mother, for Toby, and for a stupid wish she had made when she was fifteen and remarkably stupid.

Truth be told, she cried for him too, though she didn't know why. She seemed to need to cry for everyone and everything that had touched her, and though he had done so in such a terrible way, she could not help feeling that he always would be and in fact always was, a part of her.

"I don't want to die," she said aloud to no one, "but if I stay here, I die either way."

'And,' she added mentally, 'according to Jareth, I die if I leave.'

Death was not seeming like the best of options to Sarah, as it never had before in the Underground, so instead she chose Door 4. The still elusive option of not-dying and not ending up some kind of royal concubine.

And so she thought herself into circles until her eyelids became so heavy that they pushed her into yet another night of dreamless sleep as the sun rose on the Labyrinth.

It wasn't as if the thought had never entered his mind before. It had, dozens of times in the past, perhaps even more. He had acted on his frustrations at first.

Being the kind of man he was had always gained him the affections of many a courtier.

He had embraced them all, women who reminded him of his darkness, of his passion, of his power.

He had felt dominant with them all, in control, the way he imagined he would have felt possessing her.

Her.

He had gone and thought it. He shook his head, as if trying to shake the offensive thought out to where it could not be remembered. When his plan did little to succeed but make his hair a fizzy mess, he tried to drown it in wine instead.

Unfortunately, all the wine did was cause him to remember.

Though he hadn't the stomach to think of it at the time, he of course realized that he knew all along, as he knew now, that with every one of them he had been trying to replace them with a memory of someone else, someone distant.

His Sarah, the woman he could never touch.

And hadn't it been her now and her all along that had evaded him, cursed him, sworn she would never be his?

He questioned the dancing bear on this subject, who remained as stoic as earlier, and he had no choice but to continue his lone meanderings.

She had foiled him from the start with her big doe eyes, pushed him to his limits and made him believe that maybe somehow she could feel something for him more than hatred. That she could see him as anything but a kidnapper of children and a monster.

He closed his eyes now, remembering the sweet feel of her mouth on his, her lips anticipating his every move, the soft heat rising from her when he had kissed her in the Aboveground.

Hadn't she been cruel then?

Hadn't she been able to see her own wickedness in that moment, in a world away from his?

He wanted her. He was sure of that now – as he had wanted her that night when they played the roles of George and Sarah so well, when she had climbed atop him in her peach fuzz room, and as he had wanted her when she was but a child.

She was intoxicating, his Sarah.

But he did not love her, and he knew this in his head as strongly as his body knew he needed her.

He wanted her to be his because she had denied him as no other woman ever could. And it was because of this that he vowed in his throne room only hours ago, as she stood only yards away, that he would never take her.

For all her cruelty, Sarah was an innocent. She embodied all that was good and bbeautiful in any world, above or below.

And he knew now what he had never known before. That he could never defile such a treasure, that it was something to be kept safely away from him.

He wanted her because she didn't want him, but moreso he respected her because she would not trust him.

'Yes,' he pledged to himself as the final droplets of wine slid towards him, 'I know what I will do with my darling Sarah.'

After all, who could ever trust such a man as he?

Chapter 24 – Nevermind.

The hours slipped by and Sarah was beginning to wonder if now he had sent Nelly away to punish her.

'He wouldn't do that' She argued herself only to become more grief stricken by realizing she had no idea what Jareth would or would not do. Ever.

Especially now.

At long last there was a turning and a clinking of the doorknob. Sarah held her breath in anticipation.

She breathed a sigh of relief when the face of Nelly, quite possibly the only friend she had left in the world, swung her head around the frame.

"Nelly!" Sarah shrieked so loudly that she almost fell straight out of bed, causing the furniture to plug it's ears in disgust.

The bed, having been kept up all night by her rampage of emotions said a quiet prayer that soon the girl might be leaving and that it could get on with it's rest.

The rest of the room, door included, shouted it's agreement.

"Shh!" Nelly hissed at the vanity as she held Sarah in her arms. Sarah looked up from the shoulder of Nelly's gown to see her scolding an ottoman back in place.

"Nelly?" Sarah asked.

'The last thing I need right now is my only friend going all crack-pot and asking the wardrobe for relationship advice.' She mused inwardly, 'she's already prettier than me, she doesn't need to be crazier too.'

"Good to know you still have a sense of humor, Sarah," Nelly smiled. "Now tell me everything about last night."

Sarah sank back into an armchair while making a mental note that Nelly could read her mind at a moment's notice and decided not to lie as Nelly made herself at home on a plush lounger.

Sarah shrugged. "There really isn't much to tell, the more I think about it. Jar-" She corrected herself, "the King is just more confusing by the day."

'The hour even,' she added silently.

"I don't get it, Nelly." She announced, "I feel like there's something he's not telling me, some piece of the puzzle that I'm missing. I just don't know what."

"You think he's keeping something from you?" Nelly asked, as she fidgeted somewhat uncomfortably in her seat.

"I know there is. I just know it." She sighed, "wouldn't be the first time, you know."

Nelly smiled again, which raised Sarah's spirits more than she would have liked. Sarah always had enjoyed a good sulk, after all.

"Jareth always was one for secrets, you know. Always has been." She paused to move a stray strand of gossamer hair out of her eyes, "He's not exactly the most open or available man you'll ever meet-"

She leaned forward now, eyes full of concern, "but he is a good man, Sarah. I promise you."

Sarah would have rolled her eyes if it hadn't seemed to mean so much to Nelly, so she closed them instead.

"Please, Sarah," Nelly went on, "he'll be a good husband to you. He's fair, honest, and cares deeply about you."

Nevermind that exactly zero percent of what the obviously confused nymph had said about Jareth seemed to remotely fit the model, Nelly apparently didn't know Jareth well – or at all – Sarah was still pinned to the "good husband" part of the conversation.

"Oh, no!" Nelly sang out, "I've said too much again haven't I?" She shook her head so sadly that Sarah wanted to reach out to her, "I'm always doing that. Always! Putting my big mouth where my foot goes."

Sarah was about to correct her when they were stopped by a knocking at the door. Sarah thanked her lucky stars that the conversation was over for good.

And she was close, but a moment too soon.

For when the door opened yet another omen of her impending death was hustled toward her. "Miss Sarah?"

A small goblin female called out from under the massive heap of fabric she carried above her.

"Your wedding dress is here, would you like to try it on?"

With that Sarah rose and stalked out the door, ignoring the fact that she nearly trampled the poor goblin girl and Nelly's pleas.

Chapter 25 – Bedfellows

She turned left several times before she felt his presence looming nearby, the same way you can tell a person's aftershave or what type of perfume and old lady wears hours after they've left the supermarket. The feeling of Jareth invaded space, claimed it, left it's mark.

She hesitated before entering what she was sure must be his bedroom.

"It's like handing a loaded gun to a convict" She said to herself. "Maybe even worse."

The doorknob agreed with her wholeheartedly and was just broaching on the subject of minding one's own business when it realized she couldn't hear it.

Sulking, it went back to it's work.

'Pity I wasn't locked' It thought to itself.

'Don't I want answers?' She questioned silently, 'Well, of course I do… but, do I want to go in?'

Nevermind that she had absolutely no idea what to do when she entered, plans had sort of become a passing fancy lately.

As she reasoned the pros and cons of the situation she noticed the detailing on the door she stood before. 'Yes, it must be his room,' she quipped, 'so like him. It screams look at me and I'm not even inside yet. Figures.'

The door was composed of what looked to Sarah like pure gold and silver, and covered in what she took to be the language of the fae people, though she couldn't read a word of it. There was a picture as well, of a large hawk-like bird with ruby eyes flying into a golden sun.

Sarah took a deep breath.

As if any breath could be deep enough to prepare her for what she saw inside.

The door swung open to reveal… well, Jareth.

It was Jareth all right. Naked.

And not alone.

He was in the very comfortable, very sweaty company of what looked to be a very leggy red headed friend.

'They're… Oh my God.' Sarah choked back a scream as the soundtrack began.

'Why can't I move?' She roared inside, 'Move legs, move!'

But there was no hope for Sarah, who could not help but remain motionless and agape at the scene before her. Fortunately, it seemed the next move was not hers at all.

"Who is there?" piped the red-headed harlot, "is someone there?"

Sarah's blood ran cold in her veins, though her legs would still not respond to brain signals.

The girl sat up from her position on the – 'Oh please don't think about it' – form still on the bed, and turned to face Sarah in all her emotional nudity.

'Which,' Sarah noted, 'does nothing to rival hers.'

"I-I-I'm so sorry," she managed to stammer, backing out into the corridor again.

The girl just smiled an waved, "No problem, honey," was the only reply Sarah received as she felt the door click back into place.

And with that she ran, not knowing when or where she turned or how far she had gone before she heard the scurrying of goblins in the hallway before her. She ducked inside the first room she saw and slumped to the ground, holding her head in her hands so that her hair became a protective halo around her.

'I can't believe it' she thought to herself, breathing deeply to stop herself from screaming or crying, she was still unsure which.

And then, something inside of her broke down until she knew exactly how she felt. She was… well, she was hurt.

Hurt?

"I just--" she stammered to no one, "how could he?"

"How could he what, love?"

Sarah stopped breathing. Again. If she kept this up she was in a fair way to develop heart problems.

'This is impossible,' Sarah reminded herself, 'to end up in here again? Oh, no. no. no. no.'

She looked up.

And was greeted by yet another surprise.

"Sarah, close your mouth please, it's impolite to stare."

The still dripping form of the Goblin King leaned casually against a large wooden bedpost, clad only in a black silken robe that Sarah noted left very little to the imagination when he moved as he was moving now, swaying back and forth, one hand on his chin as if to scold her.

He did not look happy.

She stood, it was easier to remain free of distraction from a higher vantage point, or so she thought.

"But you, but – well, weren't you just-" Sarah was at a loss for words yet again, though it seemed the King of the Underground never was.

"Showering?" He raised a perfectly arched eyebrow in her direction, "Why yes, Sarah. I was. Thank you for noticing. Now,"

He took a step forward. If she had seen anything but cold seething hatred in him last night, it was all a dim memory now. It seemed the Goblin King was back.

He took another step closer, now a scarce arm's length away from a still very confused Sarah.

"Can we take care of whatever business is troubling you so I can get on with my morning?" The mask was back, and the glare only seemed to be getting worse.

'How' Sarah wondered, losing track for a moment, 'does his hair stay like that?'

She shook her head back to the situation, "but I saw you," she stated, dumbfounded.

He laughed at this. "Yes, nearly."

"No, I don't mean-"

He took another step.

'Oh, no.' Sarah thought to herself, 'This is getting bad.'

"Sarah," he spat, "if you have anything of importance to say please say it now or get out. I don't have all day to romp around undressed with you."

He threw his hands in the air as he heard his own words, and Sarah was surprised to see that they were still encased in his ageless leather gloves.

She was thinking through the implications of his nightly fashion accessories when she realized he was still staring at her, looking bored, hands on his hips, waiting to speak as always.

"Round, pet."

"I'm sorry, what?" she gaped.

"Go and stay gone, or stay and turn round."

She turned, not knowing what else to do in such a situation and could not help laughing to herself as she did so.

'What are we now, Goblin King?" She mocked inwardly, 'shy?'

"Not in the least, pet. Turn around if you like." He laughed above her blushing, "If you can trust yourself with me, that is."

She was mortified when she heard the robe fall to the floor, but was altogether determined not to let it show.

"That's the problem with you, Goblin Kings," she snipped back, "I find it difficult to trust you with anyone."

Her only response was a chuckle from an area of the room which seemed way too close for comfort.

"You know, Jareth," she began.

"Oh, I'm Jareth again, am I?"

She felt his hands close in over her shoulders. She hoped above all things that he was wearing clothes behind her. Even what he thought of as clothing would suffice at this point.

"I suppose so, yes," she answered calmly.

He slid his hands slowly down her arms then, and when they reached her waist his grip grew more firm.

"Really, Pet, you're so hard to keep track of these days. One day I'm evil, the next I'm – What am I the next day, Sarah? Enlighten me."

With that he spun her around to face him so quickly that she felt lightheaded. The door clicked firmly behind her as he shoved her up against it's cold, unforgiving form.

She sighed, relieved when she found Jareth was back in his tunic shirt and pants, though her relief didn't last long when she looked back up to face her Goblin King.

The door was not the only cold, unforgiving object in the room. And at least a door couldn't sneer the way Jareth was looking at her now.

"Jareth," she breathed, "and that's all you are." She took a deep breath and continued then, looking him in the eye continuously, " and I am not your plaything. And I am not a little girl anymore frightened by an imaginary king. I am a grown woman, and," she paused, sorting her words, lest her trip her in some technicality, "I want you to treat me like one."

To her surprise he actually smiled, in a way, though it was as chilly and barren as any earlier emotion. "I would like nothing more than to treat you like a woman, Sarah."

He released her from his grip then, and pulled the door handle open behind her.

"Goodbye." He ushered her out before continuing, "And Sarah, I believe my brother and his wife are expecting you for breakfast. Please don't be late."

Chapter 26 – Bagel, Anyone?

The rest of Sarah's morning was actually going quite well.

All things considered.

Yes, she was still being held against her will at the mercy of the Goblin King. Yes, she was still being forced to eat daily what looked like chicken but smelled like feet. Yes, she was still unsure as