Rating: T
Summary: A price must be paid for her destruction of his labyrinth.
Author Notes: A THOUSAND APOLOGIES for the delay with updating! Real life has unfortunately barricaded me from writing for a couple of months, but I should soon be back on track. As ever, feedback is always appreciated and I make every endeavour to reply to each reviewer.
Disclaimer: I do not own Labyrinth or any of its associated characters and I am making no profit from this work of fanfiction (more's the pity).
Dedication: For Sarah, always.
Memento Mori pt 3
Copyright (c) August 2007, Ruth
Sarah froze. The voice that had previously seemed so distant had suddenly become...tangible.
"Jareth?"
"Who else were you expecting, little Sarah?"
His snide and patronising response only served to heighten her temper as she whirled to face him.
He hadn't changed at all. It was not that she had expected anything different; just as he was in control of time, he himself was timeless. She, however, was vastly changed from the young girl who had boldly challenged him. As the years passed following her return aboveground, Sarah was less and less sure of whether she could even term it a victory that she had 'achieved' against a greater foe, or the wasting, painful chasm of an opportunity lost, words spoken without enough thought.
"You know why I am here."
It was a statement, bold and resolute in its failure to answer his question. In a split second she had demonstrated to him that whilst her childish impetuosity was gone, she retained all the fire and temper of their previous encounter.
He wasn't sure whether to feel invigorated or enraged, but settled for a mixture of the two.
"Oh, I do? Still taking things for granted, aren't you, little Sarah?"
"No," Sarah forced herself to reply evenly, though he was deliberately goading her to lose her temper with him, "I don't know how I am here, but I know that I am, and that I have an...obligation of sorts towards you and this place that needs to be fulfiled."
Jareth paused for a moment and considered her response, not a little surprised that she had failed to take the bait and give rise to her anger. Further, there was an air about her, something vastly different from their first meeting. Contrition, perhaps? An ugly sneer curled his lip, as he pondered on how best to work this to his advantage.
"An obligation, you say?"
Jareth was being deliberately vague and Sarah knew it; he was waiting for her to imprison herself, to be bound in knots by the wrong words.
"I feel that I was responsible for the labyrinth's destruction and therefore I must also be responsible for it's repair."
"Whatever that repair might entail?" Jareth asked, one eyebrow arched, in a challenging posture.
Whatever it might entail. She had no idea of what he was coercing her into accepting, no idea of what he might have planned for her, but as Sarah stood there in the rain, face-to-face with the man whom she had once thought to be her arch enemy, she realised two things. One, that she had been terribly, terribly wrong, and two, that she no longer cared. If Jareth was to lead her into oblivion, then so be it.
"Whatever that repair might entail," she agreed, and bowed her head.
Jareth's laughter cut through the night air like a sharpened blade. Sarah didn't see his hand move through the air in front of her, but as a bolt of lightening flashed in the distance she felt the heavy weight of iron chains around her neck and wrists. Soon after she was pulled to the ground, and then the darkness closed over her entirely.