IT'S NOT WHAT YOU WANT...
Sarah blinked awake, unfortunately, utterly, and immediately awake. The fact irritated her, as not only had she had been counting on sleep to settle some distance and perspective on last night's events, but she also would have preferred a more gentle arrival into the morning. She lie still for some minutes, and took a couple of deep breaths, listening, feeling herself in the hot tangle of sheets and blankets and sunlight pouring in. With a sudden cringe, she remembered her wine-soaked lack of inhibition culminating in that kiss. Maybe it wouldn't come up.
Sarah heard running water in the kitchen, which simultaneously let her know that it was all real, and that she had to get up. Slowly, deliberately, she got up and put on some clothes; simple jeans and subtle blouse. During her ablutions she purposely didn't look down the hall as she applied her makeup, black and purple like soft bruising, bringing out her light eyes. She paused at the arch of the bathroom door, before taking a deep breath, holding up her head, and walking into the kitchen.
And there, like nothing was different or strange, was a tall blond man at her kitchen counter slicing fruit into a bowl with a little paring knife. The warm fruit contrasted against the grays and pale platinums of the man. The coffee maker was percolating, with an inviting scent. She could not restrain a short bark of laughter, seeing the haughty Goblin king in such prosaic surroundings. It was almost enough to make up for the jolt of seeing him with the peaches. She ascertained that they were the ones that she had bought earlier in the week—at least, her fruit bowl was depleted.
Jareth was in his muted grays again, same clothes as last night, of course. There was almost something faded and tired about his demeanor, in the way he smiled—vulnerable, even.. She wondered if she had been remembering him wrong, all this time. He just seemed like a slightly off man, with his sharp features and eyes like blue flame. The king looked up when she entered and smiled, showing his jagged lupine teeth, and he poured the coffee into two waiting mugs.
"Good morning, Sarah," he said brightly, as she sat at one of the stools in front of the counter. "How do you take it?"
"What?" Although alert, it was still far too early.
"The coffee. Just cream, correct?"
Sarah stared at him. "You know how to work a coffeemaker?" She smiled through her own question, having chosen that particular one against such promising options as: You're real? You're here? You spent the night? I kissed you?
He smiled back, a devil half-grin, and turned to put the coffeepot back on the warmer. "I've been up here for longer than you think."
"Cute," she said, and took the coffee and one of the bowls of fruit without a word of thanks. She was normally a polite and pleasant girl, but rather felt the circumstances here did not demand it.
Jareth did not join her, but remained on his side of the counter. They were silent, as Sarah took a couple of sips and prepared herself. The coffee was unnecessary, as the adrenaline jolt of seeing him was quite enough to wake anyone up. But he didn't need to know that. She instead luxuriated into the acrid bitter spice of it, warm and familiar, the smell enveloping her like any other morning. Jareth watched her, as he carefully ate the sliced fruit.
She watched him, his teeth cutting into the soft fruit, his lips pursing around the pieces. He watched her back.
She concluded then that the peaches were probably safe, if distracting, and she was only being jumpy. Fine. After a few moments, she reached into his bowl and grabbed a slice. This was, after all, her house. Her turf. Disappointingly, his only reaction was to slide his bowl closer, as if he was indulging a child. "So, Jareth. You're still here. Let's discuss this fact. You were telling me that you're what, stuck here?"
"No," he said, and his tone expressed condescending patience without in any way being patient, which was a feat. "I am caught between. I need to return permanently to the Labyrinth. My home. My realm. I need you to accompany me there, and leave me."
She crossed her legs, leaned forward. "You can't go back? That seems stuck to me."
"I can go back, but I won't be happy. Complete. I will be pulled back. My path will...well, it will not be clear. It is a direct result of you. Believe me, I would not be here otherwise." He looked around, distaste curling his lip ever so slightly.
There was the Jareth she remembered. "I believe you," she said, but then stopped fidgeting with her coffee cup and looked at him hard. "Jareth. Is this really all you want from me? A little help on the return journey? A chaperone? And why should I do this, exactly?"
He leaned forward as well. "Because you do care for me—ah-ah, yes you do," he said, cutting off her protest. "Remember I was always there, dancing by your bedside, that little doll." She blushed as she recalled that elf-doll he had evidently based his appearance on. (Or was it the other way around?) "In your mind and in your heart. Watching out for you. I offered you everything. And it's only because of me that you are the woman you are." He leaned back, pleased with himself.
She laughed. "Oh dear. I was just a little girl who said the right words and believed they would work. You were just trying to catch me up, with your offers and protestations."
"That...is untrue," he said, but did not elaborate. When he frowned, his face was drawn and dark. And he looked away as if he was biting something back.
The young woman had always imagined such a different meeting, had they ever met again. But there was one thing consistent in all her imaginings—one question she always imagined herself asking. "First, answer me this. This is what has always baffled me, Jareth. Why it was me, that you offered all these things to, that you devoted all this time too. I hold no illusions about myself. I am pretty, yes, but there are millions of prettier girls. I am bright, but there are millions brighter. I am not particularly exceptional in any way. And yet. You offered me yourself. Just another trap, at the end, taking advantage of the fact that I was young and scared and you were handsome and powerful?"
He would not meet her eyes. "That's not really important, is it?" She was obviously making him uncomfortable.
"See," she said, picking up a peach segment and popping it into her own mouth. "I think it is."
"I have done you nothing but favors, Sarah. Look at your lessons you have learned. Look at the woman you've become. And all because you've learned to fight for what you want. Of following the path to your dreams and not taking anything for granted. Look at what you've done. Look at what I've done for you. I would say you owe me a favor in return." There was nothing playful or mercurial in the way he spoke. He was deadly serious. And when his eyes stared, they burned.
Sarah straightened up. "Yes, I fought, I had no other choice. And what about you?"
"I'm fighting as we speak."
There was something so businesslike about their conversation. So transactional. Sarah wondered if Jareth had always been like this, or if he was mirroring her no-nonsense demeanor so as not to set her off-guard. There were no taunts or teases. No petty tricks. It was completely unlike the strange man she remembered.
It was suspicious.
"Okay" she said. "Cards on the table. I'm trying to remember what you told me last night. Because I beat your Labyrinth, or something, I took some of your power away from you, is that right? You're kind of caught between your Underground and this world. You need me to chaperone you back, and for-"
"Bid farewell to me, forever." He held her gaze, and smiled. "Forget me, and the Labyrinth. Or our worlds will bleed together irrevocably, and trust me when I say that is to neither one of our advantages." He took fruit from her bowl now, and smiled before popping it into his own mouth.
Sarah rolled her eyes before she felt an unexpected pang of sadness, although as far as she was concerned the Labyrinth episode was a lifetime ago. She had spent years trying to escape it. This might be the final chapter after all. He reached out for her hand, as if he knew what she was thinking, and she drew her breath in at his touch.
"That is too bad," she said. "So that's the only way you can sort out whatever?"
"The Labyrinth, like this world, is rule-bound, and as lord of the realm I must abide by its rules as well. You see, Sarah, the Labyrinth must be self contained. Already, even with your play you've published, you've put us in danger by letting it leak into a thousand subconsciousnesses. If they call me, I must come. If you release me, I can go. Just say your right words, Sarah. I will be extremely grateful.
"You read my play?"
"I saw it."
"Oh. Thanks." For some reason, this flustered her.
He nodded.
"Let's go, then," she said. "I'm ready."
"Say the words. You have to ask."
"You can't just take me?"
"No."
"So, what do I do, then? I have to like say a spell or whatever? And we'll get whisked back, like before?"
"I only have ever done what you asked. That is all I can do. You were too young to understand, then." He stood up, walked to the other side of the counter, held out his hands expectantly like they were about to pray together. Palms up, long bird-boned fingers, angled joints and piano-wire tendons. "And it's not my fault that you did not know what you were seeking," he added wryly.
She ignored his entreaty, instead pushing gently past him, her hand on his arm to let him know she was not affronted be his gesture. Again at his touch there was that electric jolt as she felt lean muscle under thin fabric, that thunderstorm touch. Once on the other side of the counter, she gathered the dishes into the sink. It was somehow easier, having the ceramic white surface to hold between them.
"I don't know what to say," she said.
"That's a lie."
"All right. You're right. I'll help you, Jareth," she said, "because I can't have you in my world. That enough is clear. I have my own life, and you are not a part of it. As you have yours, and I am not a part of it. And most of all, it's true that despite my own feelings about our episode together, I do owe you a lot." She stopped then, because she was actively trying to convince herself, and did not want to appear easily manipulated.
"And I ask for so little," he remarked. Sarah could tell that he was trying to be nonchalant, but there was more than a hint of desperation, around his eyes and the corners of his mouth. Sharp little flickers of something harsh . Sarah thought for a moment of denying him. He does bring out the cruelty in her, a sharp little flicker she didn't like in herself, like the sunlight glinting off the paring knife. The moment passed
"I don't know how true that is." She approached him again, a little slowly, still not quite believing he was there in front of him. She was thankful he hadn't yet needled her about kissing him. (Drunken hormones, a silly smear of lust.) Her heart fluttered. She didn't know if it was because she was returning to the Labyrinth, or because she would get closure at last, or something else. She took his hands in hers, and they were dry and cool and strong. He twisted them round so he was holding her hands, like she was a lady in his court. His grip was strong. She was looking up into his alien eyes, and his hair seemed longer and more gold. His teeth sharper. She again felt the urge to possess him.
"Jareth," she said to distract herself, and because she had always wanted to know. "What would have happened if I had taken the crystal at the end of it all? If I had agreed to your terms? Would I have been a courtier, a queen, one more subject? A goblin? Dead?"
"I would have kept my promise," he said cryptically, and leaned forward to whisper in her ear. "Take us home, Sarah."
Sarah closed her eyes. "Fine, but I'm warning you that this is gonna sound lame." She sighed. "Here I go. Goblin King, Goblin King, right here where you stand, return us now to your hostile land."
She felt winds rise, even though they were still inside, and he pulled her close against the cold. Her stomach dropped as if the ground had fallen out from beneath them, and she held onto him until everything settled.
When she opened her eyes, she was no longer in her apartment but a large room. He was no longer wearing the subtle grays and whites but something more along the garish lines of what she remembered. He smelled of leather, now, instead of wool, and the clothes hugged his frame. Less tasteful, certainly, but more compelling. She couldn't help looking him up and down, and glanced quickly away to disguise it and so she wouldn't have to meet his face.
But she wasn't outside. It wasn't the yellow landscape web of before. It was a large round room, but not the throne room, or anywhere else that she had ever been.
It was in fact an immense round room, a bottomed out sphere with windows. From the architecture it looked like the top of a tower, but it looked more like a bedroom or dwelling, as there was a giant bed and screened off areas. It was all in what she had termed Fairy Restoration, or Degenerate Venetian, she could never decide. All tattered silks and tapestries, and filigree and wood. The entire structure was punctuated with a dozen grand windows all round, especially ones set in a gargantuan door near the bed that opened out to accompanying balcony. She looked around appreciatively.
"This is lovely. Are we right in the castle?"
"Yes," he said. "There's no need to go into the Labyrinth. Not for this."
"This, huh? Whatever this is." She broke hold with him to go to the large window and looked out into the Labyrinth. The window opened like a door She was surprised to find a lump in her throat. That rocky impossible web. It was real. She had conquered it, and defeated this land. (And the lord of the land.) She was also surprised to find she still remembered everything, a literal dream come true. Suddenly, she felt keenly that she couldn't linger, or the choice would be more difficult. She turned to Jareth and walked back, hugging herself. "So," she smiled wanly. "How does this work? I leave you here? Is this the last time I will ever see you?
He crossed his arms, cocked his head and smiled. Sarah was taken aback. He was transformed. It could be because he was in his own element, but whatever the reason he was not the wounded thing she saw back in her apartment. He is sharper, a razor. "Perhaps. It depends on you. You could stay for a little while. Time is different here, you know that."
"You know I can't stay. I'm afraid I won't leave."
He said nothing for a moment, just looked at her strangely. "It's your choice."
"I guess this is goodbye, then," she said, sadly, softly. She had often fantasized about a moment like this as well. About what she would say and do. What she needed to say, and do, for closure. How much power she had imbued in him that might return—catharsis through cathexis. Sometimes, in her imagination, she would give a speech. Sometimes she would slap him. Sometimes she would kiss him, and he would kiss her back. Sometimes, more. But she had not thought of a moment like this for some years now, and was mostly unprepared.
Instead, she only approached him, and reached out her hand for his cheek carefully. "Thank you, Jareth. For everything you've given me, whether because of you or, mostly, in spite of you." She smiled. "I will miss you, and your Labyrinth, if I do remember." She withdrew her hand. They were very close, and he leaned in, his eyes dark with something that could have been want, and again she was seized with the mad urge to-
Sarah stepped away from him, politely, and looked up, demure. "Goodbye, Jareth. Now. How do I get back home?
Jareth curled his lip, and she saw again the haughty petty thing she remembered. He turned from her to walk to the same large window she had been looking out of, and surveyed his kingdom. "You don't. Unless you can figure out how."
She went cold, her stomach turning over all over again. Obviously she had misunderstood. "What do you mean?"
And then she noticed. There were no doors, except onto the balcony. There were only windows, to show her that she is very high up indeed, in this tower trap. Too far to fall. She could not get out without some sort of help. After one furious look, she ran to the large window, undid the latch and threw it open. She ran outside onto the white stone. This was indeed in the tower of the castle, hundreds of feet from the ground. The maze city sprawled obscenely beneath her. Jareth remained in the doorway, sneering.
"You tricked me," she said, looking to the sky and back and her voice was flat and cold. "Jareth. Take me home right now." She marched up to be next to him, in front of the amazingly huge windows. The light was fractured yellow through the glass. The wind blew, animating the drapes, dirty little whirlwinds of color and space.
To his credit, he didn't completely deny it. "Tricked? No. Misled you, perhaps." He looked down at the girl, who was all ablaze with quiet fury. "You will not be returning home, however."
"No. There has to be a way. Dammit, Jareth, do I need to run your godforsaken Labyrinth again? Are you really that bored? I will. I am more than up to the task."
"I know," he said. "Which is why you'll be staying here."
"And where's this? Not your bedroom, I hope."
"No, of course not. This is the Round Room."
She arched her eyebrows. "Yeah. I can see that. How is that relevant?"
"I cannot, it is true, hold you in this land against your will, with no way out. But I can keep you here." He threw out his hand, giving a sadistic smile. "This...well, this, Sarah, is the most difficult maze in my kingdom. There are no evident choices to be made, nothing binary and commonplace, no yes's and no's, just a listless trickles of why-should-I's. It's more like your adult life. Living by rote. Staying in the same place. It's nothing worse than anything humanity would inflict upon you."
Only then did Sarah begin to panic. She didn't have real life figured out at all, other than to keep your head down and always fight. This sort of maze might be impossible for her. "No," she said. "Please no. Don't keep me here. Jareth. Let's think about it. There has to be another way."
"Oh, so reasonable now!" he said, with a cruel smile. "There is no other way."
The king turned to face her full on, glorious and gold again. The life seemed completely returned to him, and he was anything but vulnerable. He put his hands on her shoulders, and she let him, to maintain his good will. "Because, Sarah, I am indeed in dire straits. You took too much of me back home. I cannot live in two places. Neither can you. So it is meet for me to be present in one world. I choose, naturally, my own."
She could no longer stand his touch, and threw his hands from her, pushed him away. It was harder to do than his slight frame would have her believe. "Damn you. I should have known better. It was too easy, and you were too sweet."
He twirled his hand and pulled out a crystal. "But I can be sweet, Sarah. Your offer stands still. Stay here with me, voluntarily. You can have...anything you want. No more struggle. No more turmoil and loneliness and disappointment..." and he spat the last word like black venom. His long fingers cradled the crystal ball, his gas-flame eyes pleading and hungry, the same emptiness and fear as all those years before. "It doesn't have to be cruel."
Sarah looked at him, an alien and harsh presence with a razor face, his eyes drawing the very blood from her face and heart. She did not believe for an instant that his professed interest in her wasn't a more complicated sort of trick. She was, after all, just a human girl like billions of others. Nothing special. He knew she was attracted to him, against all her better judgment. But she was no weak little girl anymore, putting affairs of the heart above all else. If he wanted to pretend, though—well. She could give as good as she got.
She twisted her face, made her eyes look impossibly sad, let her full lip tremble. "But how can I trust you now? If I accept, what would happen to me? With you, I always seem to go from bad to worse."
"Oh no," he cooed, no doubt with the full knowledge that the masculine purr of his voice was incredibly lovely, incredibly enticing. "Here, stay. Stay with me. You could be happy here. You could have everything here. Money. Love. Fame. Adulation. I will have my fae perform your works as soon as they are written, to the adoration and acclaim of entire kingdoms. You will be worshipped. You will be loved."
She let a tear escape. Although acting did not end up being her profession, she was nothing if not talented. "Jareth..." she said. She walked forward slowly, and wrapped her arms around him, clutching his shoulders, tucking her face against his narrow chest. Kept him close. He called her bluff, for he encircled her with one arm, pulling his other hand with the crystal closer, keeping it in her vision. "I feel this is a very dangerous choice—one I'm not really informed enough to make." He said nothing.
She turned in his embrace, so his hand was at her hipbone instead of at the small of her back. It felt lovely, and she wished for a strange moment that all this intimacy was reciprocal and real, and not a ham-fisted attempt to play some oversexed wannabe god. Still, though, as an actress one supposed to play with what you have, and her enjoyment was real. She let out a contented little sigh, and he pressed himself closer so she could lean against his chest, let him carry some of the weight. With her gentle writhing, his fingers fell between her jeans and blouse, skin on skin, gently caressing. She almost purred, oh, lower, lower, before she remembered that this was not real.
They were facing the window, with the Goblin City and Labyrinth just beyond. A whole kingdom.
"Here," she said, taking his other hand, pulling the crystal closer to herself, pressing the hand between her breasts because—well,really, when was she going to have another chance at this. She could feel his heart beat faster, and hoped he could not tell how her own heart was pounding.
She cradled the hand with the crystal. "Let me see it," she said, taking the crystal, filling his newly empty hand with her free one, pressing it to her. The little orb was shockingly light, no more than a bubble, really. It was smooth and cold, and strangely sinuous in the way her fingers moved over its skin. "It is very hard, sometimes, Jareth. You think I don't want to just stay here, in this world? Do you have any idea what goes on out there, in mine?"
"More than you think," he whispered in her ear, a delicious sound that emptied her head momentarily of any rational thought.
This was a dangerous game, and she knew she might be over her head.
He continued. "You are not the only one to make it through my Labyrinth, of course, but you are one of the few. I can't let you back out there. You always find what you seek." He leaned into her neck. "And some of us want dangerous things."
"Let me go home," she said, her voice catching in her throat. If she didn't move this to end-game soon, it was very possible that she might do something she would regret.
"Don't defy me, Sarah," he said, in a strangely urgent tone she was all too familiar with. His fingers were digging into her now-exposed skin painfully. He meant it, she knew. And now, it would not be a little goblin snake he would throw to frighten her. He was threatening real harm.
As a child, she had balked. Of course, she was no longer a child. She curled against him, as he kissed her neck lightly, drawing in his breath in a hiss. "Or, you'll what?" she said, playfully, with all the sharp parts of the sentiment hidden under the surface.
"I will destroy you utterly," he said, in the same manner, and she realized with no slight terror that he knew exactly what she was playing at, and was only playing along. He was in complete control of all of his faculties.
"Try," she said in a normal voice, as she brought up his hand against her cheek.
"Oh, I am," he said. "You silly girl. We are not at odds. We both—we both want the same thing." there was a catch in his voice now, and she realized that maybe he was only in control of most of his faculties.
"How did you always decide to take what you want?" she said.
"It's a lesson that's served you well," he said, and disentangled his fingers from hers to pluck back the crystal, holding it front of them both.
"You know," she said, still leaning against him, tilting her head back until she could see his face. "you said I could see my dreams in it. I can only see through it." It was true. He twirled his hand until suddenly there were four crystal balls. She brought up both her hands until she was cradling his, feeling the clockwork alternation of his fingers as he manipulated the crystals.
"You have to turn it this way-" he started to murmur, as she grabbed his hand tight and closed it against the crystal, crushing it against both of their hands, as blood and shards ran out between them. The rest of the crystals fell to the floor.
He roared, pulling away, pulling his hand into his body. It was covered in blood—red, she noticed disinterestedly. His pretty shirt was steeped in it. Her own hand was bleeding too, a consequence she had not considered, and she saw shiny little glints of crystal in her flesh. He backed away a few steps, out onto the balcony holding his wrist as his hand drip-dripped.
"How dare you," he hissed. "You little inconsequential thing. How dare you."
"Take me home," she cried, "or I will do worse."
He laughed, chilling. "How? How will you hurt me?" He held up his hand, and jagged crystal cut out of the his palm. He waved his other hand over it, and he was healed. "You can do nothing to me here. You can do nothing here."
Sarah was terrified by this, but her body must have interpreted it as fury. She scooped the fallen crystals off the ground and hurled them at him. Her aim was excellent, but so were his evasive maneuvers. They popped against the wall, with the crumple-ting of shattered Christmas bulbs.
"Leave me. Leave leave leave, I hate you, I have always hated you," she said.
"If that's what you want," he said coldly, and then with another gesture he was the owl she remembered, flapping away. She noticed with cool pleasure that he could not have been completely honest, because his flapping was off-kilter as if he had injured a wing.
She surveyed the room, tears in her eyes, and resisted the urge to collapse on the bed and sob. Instead, she sat and simmered. The bed was huge, and extremely nice, in lush reds and sumptuous gold. It was no comfort.
There were no doors. There was no way out. She knew Labyrinths. But this was the opposite of a Labyrinth. She couldn't go anywhere. She couldn't be. An open-air oubliette.
There was a vanity near the bed. There were various items, makeup, perfumes, all in silver. But two items stood out. She stood up and approached it. There was a crystal and a peach. She picked up the crystal, blood smearing garish across the transparent surface.
She turned it about. Sarah smiled.
A/N-
WHY IS THIS THE LONGEST CHAPTER IN THE WORLD. I'M SO SORRY.
Quote about long list of why-should-I's from The Libertine, which is a movie I passionately love way beyond what it necessarily merits.
That is all. Hope you enjoy!
Love,
Dollfayce