Hello my friends! How beist thou? I beist sick…that new, and very contagious I might add, virus that is going around I seem to have aquired. I got it from my baby nephew, and most likely his mother. Tell me you are all worried about me and make me feel special so that I feel an incentive to continue my Fanfics. (Grins)
Oh, and to my faithful reviewers (Heehee, I have faithful reviewers) I will clear a few things up:
The roots comment: If you remember in a previous chapter (chapter five) Sarah remembers a time when she was on a hill and Jareth came up and they ran around and Laby trips Jareth with a root and so on and so forth.
Uh duh, of course she died: Well, Sarah and Jareth are more focused into their thoughts of "Oh shit I knew you as a child".
Migraines and doctors: Well, Sarah tried and they couldn't do anything and she didn't want to be thought crazy so she mostly kept them to herself. You know her, that damnable strong will and pride.
Reincarnation and shit: No, she died. Die bitch die! Er…I mean…Anyways…
Face/Laugh/Sneer: You'll find out who it belongs to…sooner or later.
Disclaimer: You're doing this now just to spite me aren't me? Hell no I don't own Labyrinth! If I did do you really think I would be doing FAN Fiction? I would be doing OWNER Fiction if I did. Hell, I'd be making a damn sequel!
Sarah awoke feeling the familiar tugging of the Labyrinth as it nudged her awake. "Alright, alright, I'm awake!" she groaned flopping over digging her head under her pillows. She since then took no notice of waking up in her bed seeing as how she kept on fainting.
"What are you talking about?" Jareth grumbled from his seat by the fireplace.
Sarah shot up. "Why do you always watch me sleep?" she muttered scowling at him. "Turning stalker on me? And even though it's none of your business, I was talking to Laby. So there," and then she stuck out her tongue.
"You can be so insufferable sometimes, you know this?" A pause. "Wait, you're talking to Laby, er, Labyrinth?"
"Of course," she answered.
Jareth didn't know exactly what question she was answering but he had a feeling she was answering both. "You missed breakfast and it's nearing lunch. You clothes are set out so wash, change, and make yourself presentable." He grimaced in fake horror and disgust. "We don't want you to frighten the goblins with your looks now do we?" And before Sarah could throw her pillow at him he disappeared.
Sarah smirked. "But what are we going to do about yours?" she asked softly an eyebrow quirked. "Poor goblins having to deal with your hideous face everyday," she murmured getting out of bed and heading to her washroom. When she was done she saw the dress Jareth had mentioned earlier she smiled softly. It was an old Victorian style in a green color meant to enhance her eyes. The bodice was flecked with gold as were the matching shoes. She quickly changed applying some makeup afterwards before exiting her room.
It suddenly hit her again.
"Shite, I died!"
Picking up her skirts she ran through the halls mentally yelling out to the Labyrinth to get Jareth. Pausing for breath at an intersection she came across a pair of doors she didn't recognize as some she had seen before. Cocking her head to one side she didn't hear Jareth run up to her, why he didn't just pop in even the authoress doesn't know. She jumped though when he asked what the bloody hell she wanted standing so close his chest almost touched her back.
"Ah! Don't do that!" she panted trying to calm her racing heart. It took a few moments to realize she really wasn't all that startled by his sudden appearance, for she in a way felt him draw nearer, but that her heart was racing for a different matter all together. Clearing her throat she moved a little farther away from the close Goblin King. "Jareth, what is behind those doors?"
Jareth studied the double doors, a sunburst pattern in the center of them with virtually no handles. The doors were made of thick dark wood with a glimmer of red. "It's nothing important, just a gallery of a sort. A place where I put my paintings."
"Your paintings? As in the pictures you yourself painted?" Jareth nodded affirmative. "I have got to see this."
"It's nothing, they are all virtually the same, pictures of sunrises," he shrugged.
"How many pictures?"
"I don't know, I lost count at around three hundred." Again he shrugged.
Sarah's jaw dropped. "Three hundred pictures of a rising sun?" she asked in astonishment. "I have got to see this." And with that she walked towards the doors. She placed her hand on the seam of the doors where they met and in the center of the sun. She pushed gently and the doors swung slowly and silently open. The sight inside astounded her.
The room was a vast circle with many different pillars seemingly in no distinct pattern and hallways leading to other rooms. On the floor in the main chamber a large sunburst pattern was in the center mirroring perfectly the one straight above it on the domed ceiling. On the walls and pillars were hundreds of paintings, all different styles and sizes, all of the golden rising sun. On the east side of the room a large window took up most of the wall to let in the light of the morning when the sun rose.
Sarah stood breathless in the center of the sunburst on the floor gazing around with awed eyes. "Jareth, you painted all of these?" she asked slowly tearing her gaze from the paintings to stare at the Goblin King who was looking more and more bashful. Sarah thought the look made him look cuter than he usually was. That thought made her pause in shock…before shuddering in disgust. Eeeww. "Jareth, these are beautiful."
He shrugged. "As long as I can remember I have had this urge to paint the morning light. Actually," he tried to keep the blush creeping up his neck from showing, "it was reinforced when you traversed my, the," he corrected at the look she gave him, "Labyrinth. There is one…one I made with you…in it."
Eyes lighting up Sarah smiled. "Really? Can I see it?" Jareth seemed to consider for a second before nodding curtly. He motioned for her to follow him and led to a dark hallway branching to a different room. Sarah's eyes danced with an inner flame as she entered the room. The hallway was as dark as night and she had had to hold onto Jareth's arm the dark giving her slight creeps and memories of a dark oubliette.
The small room measured only about nine feet in diameter, give or take a few. Four brackets held four torches, one for each side of the circular room, that were the only light source. In the center of the room was one column made of the same beige-like tan colored marble the rest of the rooms were made of. The foundations were the same darker brown as the frame on the walls. On the column was a larger-than-life portrait of Sarah, ageless, wearing a dress similar to the one she wore in the park the day she wished young Tobias away with a similar hairstyle, only with golden flowers interwoven in her hair. She was dancing in the light of the morning the golden sun behind her casting rays of light on her dress lighting it, her face, and her hair on golden fire. Her face held a peaceful and joyful expression with her face uplifted and her eyes closed. Her arms were poised over her head as she stood on a green hill barefoot with one foot pointed and arched. It was a complete picture of bliss and beauty.
"Oh Jareth," Sarah breathed covering her mouth with her fingers. Tears entered her eyes the firelight reflecting off them as line passed through her head.
I'll paint you mornings of gold
"Jareth, it's beautiful." She turned towards him taking his hand in hers. "I've never seen a more beautiful painting," she smiled. Wrapping her arm around his, Sarah lead the way back to the main room, but not without casting one last glance at the lone portrait. As the exited the gallery and began walking down the hall arm-in-arm Sarah suddenly remembered why she had wanted to speak to Jareth. She stopped suddenly spinning around to face him dropping his arm. "Jareth, I'm dead!"
To say Jareth was confused was an understatement. "Sarah, unless I'm mistaken you are very much alive."
"No I died! Back then!"
"Well, that is to be expected if you are to have a 'past' life."
"Goddamn it Jareth! Think back! How far can you remember, or rather what don't you remember?" She was growing impatient now.
"We've been through this before Sarah, I don't remember my childhood."
"But you remember after your childhood?"
"Of course." Jareth was starting to get annoyed.
"Why don't you remember your childhood?" Sarah prodded.
"Because I can't remember when you were alive back then," he growled. He then froze as the meaning of his own words seeped in. "Dear heaves…" he whispered.
"I died as a child. And even for mortal standards that is not usual. Something happened, and I no longer existed among the living. Some powerful magick made us forget, and apparently, according to Gav's reaction to seeing me alive again, I wasn't supposed to be reborn. Something else brought me back."
"Well, people always said you were strong-willed," he joked even as a painful memory made him nearly cringe.
For my will is as strong as yours…
"Jareth, this is no time to joke around. No matter how strong-minded I was I had nowhere near the power to be reborn. I…I don't understand," she moaned. Her head was pounding and she felt her skin grow feverish. "Jareth, I think I need some Roofie Tea, my head hurts too much and the other kind won't do it."
Jareth eyed her cautiously as she held her head in her hand. "I don't know Sarah…"
"Please, just this once. I know it's supposed to be used just for Meditation, but it hurts real bad."
"Alright Sarah," Jareth said softly, "I'll get you a Roofie." Neither of them took time to make a joke of his statement.
Sarah sat in her greenhouse room still in a haze from the Anduilleaf Tea wondering idly if this was how the Hippies felt. She remembered being an intern to a case where a 'Hippie' was involved. She had been upset when the Hippie won and had muttered about how he was a grown man and needed to act like one and not go around acting childish. She now realized that he had been able to do what she had not, he was able to live, truly live and be himself. Suddenly she started singing.
"Ninety-nine mugs of Anduilleaf on the wall, ninety-nine mugs of Anduilleaf. Take one down splash it on the ground, ninety-eight mugs of Anduilleaf on the wall." This song continued until she hit seventy-two and couldn't remember what came after it, or rather before it. "Uh…forty-six mugs of Anduilleaf on the wall," she improvised counting all the way down to the last mug. "One last mug of Anduilleaf on the wall, one last mug of Anduilleaf. Take it down splash it on the ground. No more mugs of Anduilleaf on the wall. Good riddance!" she sang slumping down in her chair afterwards.
"Well, what a charming song," the ever-so pompous voice spoke.
Sarah turned around in her chair to look at Jareth. "Tomorrow we leave to see Their Majesties?"
"Yes, the High King and Queen of the Underground, and my parents," he sneered.
"Hey, at least your parents are still alive. My mother was mortal and so only lived to be a couple hundred years with Underground influence. My father probably died with grief."
"Probably?"
"I don't know what became of him," Sarah sighed sadly.
"Lord Tiernan? Sarah," Jareth laughed, "Tiernan is still alive."
"What!" Sarah shrieked shooting up from her chair eyes wide. "Da is still alive? My Da?"
"Yes, he is still in my parents' courts. He is Fae Sarah, the Sidhe are immortal silly girl, they don't die," he scolded.
"I did."
"Yes, but you're special," he said, "You're weird."
"Oh gee thanks a lot," Sarah huffed throwing a throw pillow at him. But she happy! Her father was alive! She was sad because she lost her mother, her Mam, but her dear sweet Da was still alive and kicking! Sarah, filled with joy, attacked Jareth…in a bear hug. "hoo-ray, hoo-ray!" she laughed spinning around in circles.
Jareth, meanwhile, was in no hurry to leave Sarah's close embrace.
I know it's short but I'm sick and going to bed. Ja ne!