The Daydreamer and the King

By Danika Lareyna

Chapter Five – A Power

The crystal slowed to a stop once again, resting almost weightlessly in Sarah's hand. As the world came back into focus, she smirked at the little orb. "A librarian, huh?" she murmured, perhaps to herself, perhaps not. She glanced at the clock and was only mildly surprised to find that almost no time had passed since Jareth had left her with the gift.

"I wonder," Sarah said, reaching out to stroke the perfect curve of the crystal with her fingertips. "Do I run the risk of becoming addicted to dreams? Of losing my reality should I look again?" A tiny, wicked smile tugged at the corners of her lips as flashes of memory played before her eyes.

Without hesitation, she set the crystal in motion again. As the crystal spun, the world spun. Sarah lost herself in the dream.

xXx

The room was not as large or grand as one might expect for a king, though the dark, bare decor suited its owner perfectly. A single window, wide and round, showed the serene form of the Labyrinth, stretched across the landscape like a sleeping beast. It only awaited the call of its master to spring into action, claws of magic ready to rend and tear. The room was almost completely filled by a great bed, draped in hangings of deepest black and midnight blue. Upon the mattress, pale against black satin sheets, even the mighty Goblin King seemed small and fragile.

The merest hint of a breeze, perhaps the very breath of the sleeping Labyrinth, danced through the window, tugging gently at Jareth's wild, blond hair and caressing his face. Mismatched eyes opened slowly, a sleep-fogged gaze coming to rest on the figure watching him from the end of the bed. She stood tall; a dark cloak hung around her shoulders with the hood pulled up. The breeze left Jareth and turned to the woman, drawing back the hood of her cloak enough to reveal hazel eyes that sparkled, even in the empty darkness of midnight.

Jareth sat up, taking in the beauty that stood, out of place, in his dreary chambers. Unhurried, he leaned back against his headboard, his sheets pooling around his waist to reveal a broad, bare chest. She did not move, save for a slight tilting of her head and a tiny quirking of her lips. "I am widely known," The Goblin King said, "As the Lord of Dreams. Up until this night, though, I had thought myself incapable of actually having one myself."

Her voice was as he remembered, strong and sweet. "I wonder, my lord, whether a vision of me is a sweet dream or a nightmare?" She remained still, but the playful breeze toyed with her cloak, opening it just enough to reveal a white gown beneath. The sliver of ivory shone like a moonbeam before it was swallowed up again by the dark material swinging back into place.

"That depends on your intention here, my Sarah," he replied.

She smiled, a wistful curve of the lips, at the possessive manner with which he spoke her name. It had been so many years since she had heard it on his tongue, and yet it was exactly as she recalled. As it always had, his voice raised goose bumps on her arms and sent a not-unpleasant tingle through her spine. She took a measured step forward, raising a hand to push back the hood of her cloak. Unleashed, her hair fell in a shimmering wave across her shoulders and back, so dark it blended into the material until one could not tell where her tresses ended and the cloak began. Sarah said not a word, just watched with satisfaction as he drank in the sight of her.

Jareth found that he could not move, nor did he wish to. He relaxed against the headboard, content to watch her approach, circling the bed to stand beside his reclining form. Her eyes caught his and refused to let them go, trapping them in a tender gaze. Sarah lowered herself to sit next to him on the bed, the mattress barely shifting with her slight weight. She reached out with a single hand, gloved in white, to caress the side of his face. "Sarah," he said, his voice little more than a whisper, "Why are you here?"

She leaned towards him until her full lips brushed his, just barely, as she answered. "I got tired of waiting," she said, simply. She kissed him in truth then, a soft, brief kiss which left a hint of sweetness on his mouth and a deep desire for more. Before he could respond, though, she stood again and turned away from him.

Fully awake at last, Jareth held up one hand to her. "Sarah," he pleaded, "Don't leave me again."

She turned, smiled sadly at him over her shoulder, and pulled the hood back up to hide her face. The breeze swirled between them as she took two steps forward and faded from view and into the night. The Goblin King stared at the spot where she had been for a long time before pulling himself from his bed. He drifted to the window and stared down on his kingdom, his mind awhirl and his heart aching.

xXx

The throne room of the Castle Beyond the Goblin City was a madhouse of ugly creatures, small of stature and small of mind, mucking about in a drunken stupor. The noise ebbed and swelled, though never sinking below the level of 'nerve wracking', as the goblins chatted, argued and sang amongst each other, punctuated by the occasional sharp cry of an abused bird or animal. Everything smelled of stale alcohol and unwashed bodies. When the Goblin King entered, the goblins paused for half a moment to stare at him before returning to their previous activities. Jareth ignored them, heading towards his throne.

Unfortunately, it was already occupied.

Sarah lounged across the ivory monstrosity, one leg kicked over the arm of the throne and her own arm draped across the back. She smirked up at him, her position, her manner and even her outfit mocking him. She wore a loose poets shirt, opened low enough to reveal more than a hint of cleavage, a tight, leather vest which tucked up under her breasts and extended only down to the base of her ribcage, and thin, gray breeches which showed off every inch of her curves. Jareth was certain she had not possessed curves like that when she had run his Labyrinth. Around her neck was a wide, black choker from which hung a miniature replica of the pendant which rested against Jareth's chest.

Jareth's eyes traveled reluctantly from the vision atop his throne to his seemingly oblivious subjects. Sarah grinned at him and tapped her leg with a riders crop. "Don't worry," she said. "They can't see me, or hear me for that matter."

"You know," he replied, planting one hand on the arm of the throne and leaning down over her, "If I found anyone else in your current position, I would put them to a slow, agonizing death and then feed them to my goblins." His intimidating loom was answered with an impish smile.

"How fortunate for me, then," she said, "That I am the exception to that rule."

"I will not ask you again why you are here, Sarah. Your previous response, while very enjoyable, was less than illuminating. I will ask how you are here."

With an amused sparkle in her eyes, Sarah replied, "I think you know very well how I came to be here. Did you really believe I would not discover the full extents of the powers which you gave me? You are far too extravagent to give the girl who had stolen your heart merely the ability to wish away an unwanted child."

Jareth frowned minutely, still leaning low over the woman. "I had rather hoped," he told her, "That you would discover my gifts to you and be forced to call upon me to help you learn to use them."

Sarah sat forward, bringing her face close to his. "I have always been a precocious child," she said, her voice low and serious. "And you have always underestimated me." Without another word, she vanished. Jareth stared at the spot she had just occupied for a split second before turning on his heels and storming from the silent throne room.

A long moment later, one goblin leaned towards his companion and loudly whispered, "Why was Kingy talkin' to himselfs?"

xXx

The Goblin King wandered his Labyrinth, seeking solace in its familiar, twisting corridors. Jareth knew every inch of the Labyrinth, he could sense every shift, feel every living creature within its walls. Jareth was the Labyrinth, it was merely a physical manifestation of his incredible will, or perhaps vice versa. They were two bodies with the same soul. He was independent of it, yet eternally, irrevocably linked, both slave and master.

He turned a corner and came face to face with something he did not expect. It was a sensation which could only be likened to looking into a mirror and finding someone else's face. And yet, there she stood in jeans and a multi-colored sweater. Somehow she seemed more enticing in that simple Aboveground attire than she had in any of her previous outfits.

Her back was to him and her dark hair was pulled back in a french braid which hung to the small of her back. She stared up at a gnarled old tree whose roots had caused one of the walls to bulge outward and whose upper branches, bare of leaves, reached like clawing hands towards the sky. A large knot, eye level on the trunk, twisted into the image of a face; Jareth's face. It was but one of many places where the Labyrinth displayed its connection to him in its very form.

Slowly, Sarah turned to face him. The playful manner had left her and her eyes were solemn. She looked up at him, her arms clasped behind her back. Heavy silence stretched between them. At last, she held up a hand. The air above her fingers shimmered and sparkled until it formed into a perfect, crystal sphere. She examined it, her eyes upon the orb as she spoke. "My powers are like yours, but they will never really be as great, will they?"

"There is one way alone for you to be my equal, Sarah."

Her gaze rose to him and he knew that she comprehended his words. Now, unlike their first, great confrontation, she understood what he was offering to her. After a moment's hesitation, she raised her hand, and her crystal, up to him. Her expression betrayed her fear that he would reject the sphere and, through it, the woman.

The air seemed to hum around them; the sensation of a thousand unseen eyes tickled the back of Sarah's neck. "Your will is as strong as mine," he intoned, raising his hand and gently pulling the dark, leather glove from it. "And your kingdom as great." As the words faded into the air, he reached forward with his naked hand and touched her crystal.

The ball was gone and now their fingers twined together. Jareth stepped forward, pulling her into his embrace. He smiled at Sarah tenderly, only for her the cold, arrogant King discarded. The Goblin King held her close for a long time, marvelling in the fact that she was his at last. With an exhasperated sigh, Sarah said, "Must you always keep me waiting?"

Before he could reply her lips were on his, her arms around his neck and her body pressed firmly against his own. Jareth chuckled lightly into the kiss, causing Sarah to draw back and frown at him. His chuckles grew into outright laughter and he swept her up, one arm coming down to hook her behind the knees as the other curved around her waist. She had just begun to laugh as well, kicking her feet a little with amusement, when they both disappeared in a great burst of sparkles.

The only witness to the ascension of the Goblin Queen was a gnarled old tree with a knot which twisted into the image of two faces, side by side.

xXx

AN-

It's been a while, hasn't it? I am sorry, but things have been rather nuts for me. I will be moving soon and... well, my life is pretty topsy-turvy. I hope it is not too obvious that I am out of practice. Hopefully I will be more inspired to write in the near future.