Rule One: You must earn the Heart of the Labyrinth and its inhabitant's love
The Goblin King leaned heavily against the fountain. The gold of his hair glinted in the sunlight, brighter than the cheerful bubbling of the sweet nectar behind him, churning in the great bejewelled basin. Shadows cast by the peach tree to his right fanned out and offered a weak resistance against the blistering heat of the sun.
In his arms, he rocked The-Son-That-Wasn't-Quite-His. Eyes alight with triumph, he grinned at She-Who-Wasn't-Quite-His-Wife.
"No," Sarah stated again, her eyes darted to her son nervously. Her words came out shakily as she attempted to catch her breath, long strands of hair escaped messily from the formerly neat coil of plaits on top of her head.
Everything had gone wrong.
The air around them shimmered disturbingly, iridescent like the smooth curvature of a bubble.
It felt easier to focus on this incongruous imperfection than to look upon Jareth's gloating expression once more.
"No?" The Goblin King repeated mockingly. He shook his head, feigning sadness at her plight. "I'm afraid it's already too late for that, little Queen."
"We can't stay here!" Sarah insisted. It was easy to brush off this feeling of wrongness as the product of her guilt, but there was something more to it, something that felt dangerous.
The Labyrinth was unsettled too. Its greedy grasp upon Sarah twisted uncomfortably; it clawed at her mind as though holding on for dear life. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes momentarily to centre herself as pain and dazzling gold light pounded at her skull and burned in her veins.
The Goblin King laughed, for all the arrogance and menacing power he exuded as he walked towards her, it was his hands that Sarah focused on. He was holding Avery so gently, idly tracing a lazy path with his thumb along the outside of her son's blanket.
"You know we can't." Sarah tried to reason. "Everything will end up in the wrong order." She waved an arm, gesturing to the softly rippling air, as though hoping that Jareth could see the manifestation of her discomfort. "I can't be stood here before you if you tear away our beginning."
"Sweet Sarah, we began the moment I first laid eyes upon you." He corrected her with obstinate amusement.
He was wrong in any case, she'd laid her eyes upon him first...or hadn't she...Sarah dismissed the errant thought.
A sense of déjà vu swept over her. She was alarmed when her intuition suddenly screeched at her to pay very close attention.
A Goblin King, a Goblin Queen, a Goblin Babe, a Peach Tree (Rest In Peace Adam), a Fountain that wouldn't be there for much longer...
Of course, she was familiar with all of those things; she just didn't understand why they were setting off alarm bells in her mind.
For a moment she thought she saw a flicker of movement near the peach tree.
"If not the beginning, what of the middle, you'll erase the journey that brought me to you if you settle for a stolen ending?" Sarah continued to question him, her voice unsteady as she tried to ignore what was wrong with the world around her. "My younger-self will grow up to be a different Sarah."
Jareth drew closer, mismatched eyes bored into her as he sought to see through whatever trap he believed she was concocting.
"If it is time that concerns you so, then I shall reorder it for you once more, I will write us a new story, you've always loved stories, Sarah." His arms jolted oddly as though he was about to make a dramatic gesture, no doubt summoning a breeze to cause his cape to flare out majestically, but remembered part-way through that he was still awkwardly cradling a baby. "Besides which, I cannot even look upon your younger counterpart since she spoke the Words, let alone court her. Why should I pursue another Sarah when the one before me is already in love with me?" His eyes gleamed challengingly.
Her chest tightened uncomfortably, unable to entirely refute his claim. She couldn't ignore the bitterness in his voice as he reminded her of the epoch-defining moment in their history.
With dawning horror Sarah watched as the ground beneath them shifted, as though the Labyrinth were stretching its tightly coiled muscles, uncaring of the beings that lived upon it.
Sarah took a step forward, trying to stabilise her balance. Jareth continued to watch her calmly, indifferent to the blatant twisting of reality in front of his eyes.
"I want my husband back." It was hardly an unreasonable request considering she had been the one to issue the challenge in the first place, not Jareth.
"Want, want, want, you never change." The Goblin King taunted. Jareth shifted her son in his arms so his head lolled sleepily over his shoulder. Sarah supposed it was a good job he hadn't chosen the spiked shoulder pads today, less he accidentally skewer her son. "I was under the impression that I was your husband."
Remorse settled upon her like a leaden weight and threatened to shatter her ribcage under the totality of its oppression. "Not yet," she corrected, "And you may never be if you refuse to see sense."
Pay attention...need to pay attention...
There were certainly many things that she could be paying attention to; the unsteadiness of the ground, the fact that stars battled against the glare of the sun to shine just as noticeably in the daylight, not to mention the strange gossamer-like sheen that hung in the air.
There was also a particularly irritating fly that kept darting in front of her face, daring her to destroy it with all the reckless confidence of a certain Goblin kicking Monarch.
The Goblin King tilted his head to the side in a considering manner, mirroring one of the more endearing mannerisms of his avian form. "Sense...the right time..." He pondered, "I care for neither of these things, they matter little to one such as I. Your husband failed the challenge you set and so your child is forfeit, bound to this time, this Labyrinth." A warm smile flitted across his face as Avery let out a small yawn before settling back against him. "I'll be generous and give you a choice, leave the baby here with me and I'll return you and your husband to your time, or you can choose to stay."
"Forget about the baby..."
There was no chance in hell of her doing that.
She would wager he was well aware of this.
Sarah didn't like being forced to choose; once upon a time she had rescued Toby from the Labyrinth and she'd gained a throne...after a fashion...
Sarah grinned at him, "I choose neither." She enjoyed the flash of surprise that crossed his face at her sudden bout of confidence.
"That isn't an option." He spoke slowly, as though believing that his desire for her to pick one of his two equally ridiculous options had simply eluded her.
"You've already said that things can be rewritten, and boy do we need to fix things since you messed everything up by keeping us here." She back peddled as she took in his offended expression; his lips were curled into a sneer, "Fine, we messed up."
Not that it wasn't an enjoyable process, just a potentially cataclysmic disaster that was hell-bent on unravelling the world around them. She was pretty sure that actual pieces of the sky weren't supposed to be falling but with any luck, some of it might hit that blasted relentless fly that was still buzzing around her head.
Jareth was either being very blasé about reality tearing at the seams or he was just plain oblivious, in any case, he seemed to be more occupied by their bickering (which wasn't really anything new).
"Give me a reason," Jareth spoke quietly. The burning hunger she had witnessed in his eyes as he took her apart in this very garden had returned with a vengeance. Sarah very deliberately refused to allow her gaze to stray to the peach tree. "Why should I let you all leave?"
Heart-warming pleas, painting pretty pictures of selfless love didn't seem the best approach.
She couldn't gain something without giving up something first.
These were the Labyrinth's rules, created long before Jareth came along. There was a story there, a reason behind those rules but under the general stress of trying to hold both her family and the world together she couldn't quite recall that particular tale; it was important though, she knew that much.
"Because," Sarah bit her lip, pay attention, her mind screamed at her; remember, it urged.
There was an ominous feeling present like she was standing atop an old rickety bridge above an endless canyon. The feeling told her she could let herself fall or she could push the person next to her. It was a terrible simile since it didn't remotely reflect a situation she was likely to find herself in. Except, in this half-baked simile, she chose to push the person beside her and the screaming individual tumbling to their death stared at her in horror whilst wearing her own face.
"Because...I'm going to offer you a gift."
~*o0o*~
Sarah's eyes snapped open.
She sucked in a deep breath before urgently fumbling for the torch she kept on her bedside cabinet. Her breathing evened out as she watched the pervading darkness of the room recede under the weak beam of light. It was the best she could do.
Being caught with her bedroom light on during the dead of night by her father and stepmother had made her wary. Their repeated insistences that she needed more sleep and shouldn't be up at the early hours of the morning fell upon deaf ears.
Sarah made sure to aim the torch's light away from the door to ensure there was no evidence of her wakefulness for anyone passing by the outside of her room; just a slither of light and they'd be on her like bloodhounds.
She lay back on her bed, merely watching the spot of light on her ceiling, pondering whether it was worth closing her eyes again. Her heart was still hammering in an annoyingly insistent manner that made it difficult to relax; each thump was an irritating jolt, keeping her from drifting off to sleep.
It wasn't like closing her eyes would do her much good anyway.
With a groan of annoyance, Sarah swung her legs off the bed and stumbled over to her vanity. She cringed as she tripped over a stray pair of boots, freezing in anticipation, hoping that no one had heard the thud. She was sure she'd put those away earlier.
Carefully, dragging her chair out and sitting down, she aimed her torch at the mirror. Sarah flinched as the light was reflected back, her eyes stung from the glare as she blinked away the splodges of light assaulting her retinas.
"Hoggle, Sir Didymus, Ludo." She intoned their names in a low voice, staring at the deceptively ordinary glass. "I need you." All things considered, it probably was an ordinary piece of glass, there didn't seem to be anything intrinsically special about it; she'd owned it for years before her little adventure and hadn't seen hide nor hair of anything magical before then.
Sarah wondered if it would be possible to call her friends through a particularly sizeable puddle. It probably wouldn't be worth attempting, since most of her friends from the Underground were a tad furrier than usual; it was unlikely that they'd be pleased by their sudden relocation through a barrier of water.
Perhaps, it was the inherent spookiness of mirrors, childish games of calling upon 'Bloody Mary' at sleepover parties somehow giving credence to their ability to be used as conduits for the abnormal. Sarah's lips twisted into an amused smirk as she pictured her disgruntled trio of friends barging through her mirror in flowing white dresses with long matted wigs.
On second thoughts, if the dresses resembled the one she'd worn in that damnable peach hallucination, then they may actually be capable of striking terror into her heart.
The surface of the mirror rippled, less like the result of an innocent drop of rain, causing a subtle disturbance on the surface of a pond and more like a frenzied trout wading through custard.
Sarah cringed as her friends stumbled out of the mirror, the three of them managed to force themselves out of the comically narrow frame at the same time. This resulted in both Hoggle and Sir Didymus being pinned underneath Ludo's enormous bulk as they toppled to the ground in a heap.
Any lingering hope of her family remaining blissfully unaware of the goings-on in her room evaporated faster than Ambrosius, the mighty canine steed, fleeing from danger.
Sarah left her friends groaning on the ground and made a dash for her bed. Unfortunately, the same pair of boots that had so treacherously lain in her path before, came back for round two, leading to her colliding with her bed and ending up sprawled out on the carpet; clutching at her duvet, she managed to drag it over herself half-heartedly.
Her door burst open and she closed her eyes in resignation.
"Sarah Williams, what on earth are you doing?" Karen demanded, exasperatedly. Her stepmother stood with her hands on her hips, her curls untidily coming free of her rollers.
Sarah briefly contemplated ignoring her and pretending she was asleep, her current position on the floor didn't give her much credibility.
She squinted at Karen's menacing figure in the doorway; she was framed by the unholy landing light, which she swore was nowhere near as bright as that during the day. "I fell out of bed?" Sarah offered.
"Why are you still on the floor?" Karen sighed, stepping further into the room; she removed the duvet from her stepdaughter and helped pull her to her feet. Sarah allowed herself to be manoeuvred with little resistance back into bed, only grumbling when Karen attempted to tuck her blanket around her as though she were a small child.
She shot a glare across the room as Hoggle snickered at her. Karen, of course, was none the wiser to the guests occupying the bedroom. How horribly convenient it was that her family couldn't hear her friends from the Labyrinth speaking but were quite capable of hearing the various sounds of crashing and detached limbs hitting her window (the Fierys were not invited often).
"Goodnight Karen," Sarah mumbled, struggling against the iron-clad grip of the blanket under her chin, restraining her much like a head placed upon a block before the guillotine.
"Goodnight Sweetheart," she responded wryly, "Try to get some sleep." Apparently, Karen wasn't entirely convinced by her helpless, beached whale performance. The door shut with a click, taking with it the wrathful glow of the hallway.
Sarah was relieved that her torch had rolled under the bed during her mad dash to take cover; explaining away, falling out of bed and accidentally landing on her torch, which just so happened had managed to turn itself on, would have been even less convincing.
She fought valiantly against the blanket and won, retrieving her torch and edging towards her friends she pointed the beam of light at them accusingly, "Nice job guys."
"Sawah." Ludo rumbled, enclosing her in his massive arms, he made a soft noise of contentment as Sarah buried her face in his fur, it smelt as though he had spent the day rolling around in a grassy meadow.
Peeling herself away, she offered a grin to Hoggle and Sir Didymus. Hoggle remained transfixed by the torch in her hands, watching it with curiosity.
"My Lady," The small terrier Knight raised his cap and swept it into a bow, "My brothers and I, apologise for any disturbances we have caused you this fine evening. It is an honour as always to be in your presence."
"Don't apologise for me," Hoggle complained, "She's the one that crashed into 'er own bed, the great lump."
Sarah switched her torch off and sat on the floor cross-legged, leaning against Ludo's warmth. "As charming as always Hoggle," she teased, dragging him closer so she could hug him. Feigning displeasure, Hoggle shrugged himself free; she knew that he was smiling, even if she couldn't clearly make out his expression in the dimness of the room.
Sarah felt like she was finally able to breathe easily.
She had faced the Labyrinth and managing to come out of it as the victor. Despite playing the heroine in contrast to the villainous King's dastardly plots, a part of her still didn't feel like the hero of the story.
Alice left Wonderland, Wendy left Neverland, Dorothy left Oz...and Sarah...she had left the Labyrinth; that's how fairytales were supposed to go, even her little red book had ended that way.
But the Labyrinth hadn't left her, she continued to call upon its residents as she wished, sharing a part of her life with what others would deem merely a fantasy.
Things aren't always as they seem and heroism is nowhere near as straightforward as it looks. Her friends had grumbled good-naturedly about having to repair the damage to the Goblin City and had taken to complaining about their King's mercurial temper, fairly often. Apparently, the Labyrinth had grown even more stubborn since she had left and even the residents of the Goblin Kingdom had difficulty navigating their way to their own homes.
She doubted that Alice cared about the chaos she left behind in the Queen of Heart's courtroom, or that Dorothy was overly concerned about whether a new and just ruler had taken over from the Wicked Witch of the West she had murdered, even though the Wizard of Oz was sketchy at best. Did Wendy often think of Peter after leaving his world of fantasy behind?
No, to them, their adventures remained dreams, wonderful dreams but dreams none the less.
Dreaming was a tactless topic to bring up in front of Sarah.
Incidentally, her friends possessed very little tact.
"Sarah?" Hoggle started cautiously; at her affirmative hum, he wrung his hands for a moment before continuing. She could make out his shape easily enough in the dark, wanting to conserve the dying batteries in her torch. "Is it...you know...healthy to call on us all the time, instead of sleepin'" Unable to see the downturn of her mouth at his inquiry he pressed on, "Not that I'm complainin' mind...it's just you're always so tired. Even if you can't do you know what, you still need to rest." He reached for her hand to give it a comforting squeeze but was roughly swatted away when he grabbing a handful of Ludo's furry arm instead.
"Dream." Sarah bit out, "You can say the word, Hoggle." The word left a bitter taste in her mouth as she was filled with indescribable longing. Ludo didn't protest when she dug her own fingers into his fur, twisting the fiery strands to distract herself.
"My Lady, we shall challenge the vile Monarch who has stolen from you, upon my word as a Knight." Sir Didymus declared grandly. He swung his sword in the air wildly, as though expecting to find the Goblin King crouched behind her laundry hamper.
"Put that down you fool!" Hoggle hissed, "The other lady will come back and yell at Sarah if you keep making that racket."
Sir Didymus froze immediately, weapon still poised to attack at a moment's provocation. His beady eyes glanced at the door before letting out a sigh of reluctance. "As you wish, brother Hoggle. But should I happen upon the wicked foe, I reserve the right to defend the Lady Sarah."
Their arguments in her defence caused warmth to bloom inside her chest, chasing away the icy hollowness left by her plight. She rose to her feet and walked over towards the curtains, ignoring Ludo's fumbling attempt to keep her seated and curled up against his warmth.
Drawing the curtains back allowed a small amount of light in, the moon was full and heavy against the sky, which seemed to be absent of stars on this particular night, as though they were hiding. Even the stars were able to sleep, but not Sarah. Turning back around, she found she was now able to distinguish her friend's expressions, all of which unfortunately displayed different degrees of concern for her.
"I can't ask that of you Didymus," Sarah responded softly, her voice tinged with dismay. "I paid the price for my own selfishness; it's my burden to bear." She watched the Knight shake his head and bushy tail rapidly in disagreement; likely to start growling at any moment, she interrupted him, "Besides, do you really think you could convince him to do something that isn't in his best interest?"
A sneer crossed Hoggle's face, "The rat's been in a right foul mood this past year since you won." His voice shook slightly as referred to Jareth, still concerned that even in the absence of speaking his name aloud that he would somehow know he was being defamed. "Although..." He pondered, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, "He's been in a better mood since those last Runners came; bin' spending a lot of time in the Queen's Garden he has. Those nosy lichens were babbling about it the other day, apparently, he's taken to shouting abuse at a tree." He shook his head in mock sympathy, "Off his rocker, that one."
Sarah froze, feeling something in her chest lurch. It was a similar feeling to that which she experienced whenever she was confronted with the dawning realisation that Karen was intending to make her famous Lasagne for dinner. Both undercooked and burnt, the travesty inflicted crippling agony but wasn't quite severe enough for the merciful release of death.
"The...the Queen's Garden?" She was pretty sure she'd missed the mark for nonchalance and was hurtling staggeringly towards the realms of morose depression. Meekly, she snuggled up against Ludo on the carpet once more as his large hands patted her on the head haphazardly.
"Sawah sad?" Ludo asked; she turned to look into his guileless eyes, a sense of discomfort creeping up on her.
"Just curious." She corrected, "I didn't know that the King was married." Flashes of brightly coloured silks and soft glittering lights in a room woven from imagination, ricocheted through her mind like an angry nest of hornets. She forced away the sound of a desperate voice, beseeching her with promises that felt like dirt in her mouth as she soundlessly echoed the words he had spoken.
In reality, it looked more like she was doing a sterling goldfish impression.
It was none of her business and she didn't care at all about the answer. She was just a remarkably good friend that often waited on bated breath for each word that fell from the mouths of her companions.
"No my Lady, there is no Goblin Queen." Sarah narrowed her eyes at his oddly placating tone, suspicious of the way he was smiling at her.
"Yeah, like anyone would be mad enough to marry him." Hoggle snorted. "The Queen's Garden belongs to his older sister, the Ruler of the Crystal Kingdom. He shivered, glancing around the room twitchily as though expecting to see one of those blasted orbs on the ground next to him. "You couldn't pay me to step foot there, it's real' creepy."
Sarah gave a wordless sound of agreement, less intrigued by her friend's fear of the aforementioned Queen and more concerned by the dizzying wave of relief that crashed over her. Clearly, the lack of sleep was getting to her.
He has no power over me.
The comforting mental refrain did little to ease her mind.
She briefly wondered whether she would be asking too much of her friends if she asked them to stay with her while she tried once again to force herself to fall sleep. Even if she didn't stay asleep for very long, surely it would be better to attempt to do so when she was feeling comfortable and safe in their presence...away from the gaping nothingness.
Her musing was brought to a swift halt by a solid thump against her window pane.
~*o0o*~
Sarah locked eyes with the spectral figure perched on her window ledge. Dark haunting eyes stared back unblinkingly.
No...no way...
She was having difficulty computing what she was seeing. In fact, her mind was retreating into the safer territories of blatant denial, located just adjacent to 'the-lands-of-half-hearted-attempts-at-indifference'.
There were barn owls in America: fact.
Not all barn owls are Goblin Kings in disguise: also a fact.
However, if Sarah's life could be over complicated in some way then it surely would be (her request for the Goblins to take her brother away being interpreted as literal being the case in point), unfortunately: a fact.
The apprehension displayed across her face rapidly transformed into a menacing glare. Her eyes were burning from the lack of sleep, and it was one o'clock in the morning; thirteen o'clock... the part of her buried under those blankets of denial whispered.
Her piercing glower was supposed to be threatening not watery and strained and having a staring contest with an owl of all creatures was frankly not one of her smarter ideas. So caught up in her thoughts, she failed to notice that her friends had also grown silent in mutual horror.
Sarah couldn't remember detangling herself from Ludo to cautiously approach the window. She briefly eyed the chair tucked into her vanity, weighing up its potential ability to protect her versus how ridiculous it would look.
It's an owl, not a freaking lion, get it together Williams!
Far more dangerous than a lion...came the mental correction.
Deciding that it would take a far bigger, glitterier chair to take down the Goblin King, she cast the plan aside and continued on towards the window; she was close enough for her breath to cause the glass to mist over.
At last, the owl blinked; Sarah counted it as a small victory.
Upon noticing Sarah's proximity and scrutiny the owl thrust one of its wings outwards, holding it at a seemingly uncomfortable angle.
Sarah bit her lip thoughtfully. She knew next to nothing about owls' physiology, except for the fact that they weren't supposed to be sparkly. Although, she had never seen a bird bend its wing quite like that.
Maybe it's like being double-jointed...
Failing to arouse pity, the owl hopped forward and let out a mournful screech (because barn owls couldn't make cute little 'hooting' noises like other owls, they had to sound like a banshee with tonsillitis), it stumbled into the glass before retreating backwards.
She narrowed her eyes at it suspiciously, "Are you pretending to be injured?"
Sarah stared at the owl incredulously as it tilted its head downwards and let out another sad call, it's oddly bent wing wavered in the air before being tucked back in closer to its body, giving up on the whole pretence.
"Maybe we should be going." She distantly heard Hoggle mumble from across the room; his gruff voice was filled with trepidation.
Sir Didymus's chastisement and sword brandishing was cut off by a clamorous roar of thunder. Rain began to pelt the window with gusto, leaving a rather dishevelled owl to shiver pitifully on her window ledge.
"No, absolutely not!" The Labyrinthine Champion stated firmly. Goblin King or not, who lets a wild animal into their room just because of a bit of rain? "I'm not going to feel bad for you just because of a little rain. You're not even a real owl." To contradict her words a blinding flash of light lit up the sky, followed by the thunder's goading taunt. She really hoped she wasn't trying to intimidate an ordinary bird that had ended up in the wrong place at the wrong time. "And you're not welcome in my house."
"King Chicken!" Ludo roared from behind. She spared him a glance as he waved a large hairy fist in the direction of the owl.
Sir Didymus tutted, "My good Sir, the King is a feline not a common form of poultry, have you not seen his shapely eyes?"
"I can't believe he wins at scrabble," Hoggle interjected miserably, edging closer and closer to her vanity's mirror.
Sarah shook her head at their antics; she moved her hands to the edges of her curtains, toying with the floaty pink fabric. "Maybe Ludo's right," her lips curled up into a taunting smile feeling secure behind her wall of glass and barrier of spoken words that negated his power over her. "The King is a chicken."
All at once, the rain came to a jarring halt and the thunder was cut off mid rumble. Sarah shivered at the eerie silence left in their absence.
The owl started to flap its wings and slam aggressively into the window.
Sarah decided it was an excellent time to close the curtains and go to bed.
Perhaps she was a bit of a chicken too.
Rapidly moving away from her window, she was unable to keep her eyes off of the silhouette's frantic movements and the dull thud of her window being assaulted.
Go ahead, she thought angrily, give yourself a concussion; see if I care.
The furiously writhing shadow vanished. The four friends exchanged worried looks, not daring to hope that the owl had been bested by three inches of glass and a pair of curtains. Nevertheless, they continued to stare at the pair of drawn curtains as though at any moment they might be ripped from their rail in a shower of glitter that would take months to vacuum properly.
"King Chicken gone?" Ludo asked his companions, growing bored of staring at something that was so tragically bereft of rocks.
Sarah nodded her head shakily, feeling the hummingbird flutter of her heart reduce to a slower tempo. She felt rather silly, hiding in the dark from a bird that had temporarily graced her window ledge.
She really should try to get some sleep, or she'd end up hurling rocks at the commonplace sound of a pigeon flapping its wings on her way to class. She didn't need to give her classmates any more cause to gossip about her idiosyncrasies.
Sarah shot to her feet as she heard the turn of her door handle, managing to knock Hoggle over in the process, she dove for her bed for the second time that evening. This time she succeeded in landing on her mattress instead of the floor. Admittedly, sitting upright in bed with a duvet thrown haphazardly over your head was also an unlikely sleeping position.
She remedied this by calling out to the figure that had burst into her room. "I'm asleep Karen, go away!" It came out a bit muffled since she was still hiding but she thought she'd got the sentiment across admirably.
"Let it be said." Spoke a cool mocking voice from behind them, rich with disdain. A voice she had tried so desperately not to think about, despite the fact that the melodious tone and scathing words had been forever branded into her memory. "That I am no chicken."