Title: The Labyrinth: The Way Back

Author: Aviry Nolane

Email: 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."