Chapter 3: Beginning

Author's Notes: Hopefully my spell checker isn't being a big butt today. Thanks for all of you that let me know there were formatting issues. If you haven't figured it out already, this will be a slow burn, but things are starting to warm up. Enjoy! Once again, I was heavily inspired by David Darling's music. He's amazing!

"How did your concert go?" Dr. Susan Corley asked her patient, Sarah Williams.

"It was really good. I was worried a bit in the beginning, but after the first movement, it was like I became reacquainted with an old friend." Sarah smiled as she responded to her therapist's question.

As she held the mug of green tea that Dr. Corley always offered her, Sarah warmed her hands with the cup. It was a comfort she had become used to when attending sessions every two weeks.

"You don't seem like you're in the mood to talk today."

"It's not that. It's just that I've got a lot going on with work and I…" Sarah put the mug down on the table in front of her and began to fuss with the sleeve of her sweater.

Dr. Corley noticed her patient's hesitation.

"Yes, Sarah?"

"I feel like I'm being watched."

"You think you're being followed?" Dr. Corley's concern was evident.

"I don't know. It's just that feeling you get sometimes, but I can't compare it to anything because I've never really felt anything like it before. At least, I don't think I ever did."

"Do you feel threatened?"

"No, I don't. It's strange, but it almost feels like some benign presence that's watching over me."

"Sarah, you have to understand that concerns me. I know you don't want your family getting involved, but when was the last time you spoke with them?"

"I talk to them on a regular basis."

"When was the last time you visited them?"

"It's not that easy. They don't even live in the same state anymore, and with my schedule it's hard to sometimes make the trip."

"I know your father took that job in Connecticut two years ago, but you and I both know that's just a four hour train ride away."

"8 hours actually if you factor in the ride home. Look, I know you're concerned about me being lonely and isolated. I also know that I need to put myself out there some more, and I do try, but I just… I'm fine." Sarah implored.

"Are you? I should also note how quick you were to divert the direction of my question about your safety."

"I play for at least three hours a day. My father seems to think that this spot on the philharmonic which I haven't even been sent an invitation to audition for will somehow be a miracle worker for me. My stepmother wants me to meet a guy, get married, and have little babies, and my little brother just wants me to be happy."

"But what do you want? All I'm hearing is what your father, your stepmother, and brother want for you. What about you?"

Sarah took a few seconds to mull over the question.

"I want to open up, but I'm afraid."

"Sarah, I know your history. You think I'm using your past history to approach our time together?"

"Isn't that what you're supposed to do?"

"No. I'm not interested in knowing the Sarah of years gone by. I'm interested in knowing the Sarah of today."

Sarah let Dr. Corley's words sink in before she spoke.

"The Sarah of today loves her work, but she feels like there's something missing. It's been gone for a long time, and she wants it back, but she doesn't know what it is that she's searching for. She wants to dream, but really doesn't anymore."

"Is it easier to approach this by referring to yourself in the 3rd person?"

"Was I doing that?" Sarah asked, not realizing it.

"Yes. It seems like you are so hesitant to seek love. Why is that?"

"How can I ever love anyone else when I can't even trust myself?"

"Are you afraid of a relapse?" Dr. Corley asked.

"No." Sarah was quick to reply, too quick. "I just… I just want to get lost sometimes. Doesn't everyone?"

Two hours later, Sarah stood in line at her local pharmacy waiting for her prescription to get filled. As she rolled her head from side to side, she was thankful that Dr. Corley didn't up the dosage of her antidepressants. She was tired after a long day at school, and the last thing she needed to do was overthink her session with Dr. Corley. If only there were more hours in the day.

She was looking forward to going home, curling up with a the new biography on Elgar she recently purchased from The Strand, and heating up the Chinese takeout she treated herself to the night before. It was uncomplicated and boring, but it made her happy.

Still waiting in line, she heard the buzz of her phone and pulled it out of her handbag. Not recognizing the number, she hesitated before answering,

"Hello?" Her voice, slightly timorous.

"Is this Sarah Williams?" A male voice spoke.

"Yes. May I ask who's calling?"

"This is Stuart Welling from the New York Philharmonic. We received your application and letters of recommendation and would like to audition you for a chair in the Philharmonic."

"Wow. Really?" Sarah was surprised. She submitted her application months ago, but figured she wasn't qualified enough given the lack of a hasty response.

"We're going to e-mail you the details and audition time. Is your e-mail address the same as the one on your application?"

"Yes. Yes it is." Sarah said, still in shock.

"We'll see you soon Ms. Williams. Good evening."

Sarah smiled at her phone and immediately started punching the number for her father when she heard,

"Sarah Williams? Your prescription is ready."

The call would have to wait for now.

It had been four days since Jareth saw Sarah perform at the Alice Tully Hall and it was all he could think about. He remembered that night as if it happened yesterday, its imprint forever tainting his memory.

Four nights earlier.

When he finally returned to his abode, he stripped himself of his clothes and lay on the bed. Staring at the ceiling, all he could hear was the music of her instrument. It was only when he was alone that he realized it was the same thing he heard years earlier when he tried to find her.

It was a song that played itself repeatedly in his head. Nothing could be done to make it disappear. Without realizing it, Jareth traced his fingertips over his bare flesh. He wished they were her fingers, but his mind wouldn't let him picture it. Instead, he imagined his flesh was the instrument she so beautifully mastered. He felt himself growing hard, but he couldn't muster the energy to find a release. Before now it was easy to get swept away by the fantasy of her body fitting into his like a lost puzzle piece. He could spend hours imagining his lips running up and down her flesh; he was desperate to know what she sounded like when she came. Jareth wanted so desperately to know what she tasted like, and began to lower his own hand, but for the first time it felt wrong to do such a thing.

Closing his eyes, he hoped that sleep would cradle him, but Jareth no longer slept - he only dreamed. This night was different. He felt himself being held down; someone wanted to hurt him, but he didn't understand why. The hands were relentless in their force, and just as Jareth felt like he could get some leverage to escape, he felt something similar to electricity running throughout his body.

Jareth shot up in his bed, sweating and panting. He looked over at his alarm clock and noticed it was only three in the morning. Throwing himself back on the bed out of frustration, Jareth needed more time to formulate a plan.

The Strand was an enticing temptation, but there was another option… Sarah did enjoy indulging in a latte at Joe Coffee. It was a go to after school meet up spot with some of her colleagues, and he did receive photos from one of his investigators from that specific location. Nodding his head on his pillow, more or less to make him feel more confident about his plan, he would accidentally on purpose end up there. Yes, everything was slowly falling into place. HIs patience was already thin.

Six days later Jareth walked in to Joe Coffee shortly after it opened. He had been there two days earlier, and after waiting it out while trying to act like he was doing some work, he realized it was time to pack it up and go. Maybe he should just go to The Strand. Jareth wasn't used to having to do so much work for a reward, but he constantly had to remind himself that Sarah was worth it.

After typing out a "contract" for thirty minutes, Jareth huffed with impatience. He had to wear the persona just in case she walked in. And then, as if the universe had told him to do it, he looked up and saw her walk towards the entrance, cello in tow. He tried not to stare, but it was near impossible not to. Taking in a few breaths, he hoped to the gods and goddesses she would sit in his vicinity.

A few minutes later she wheeled her cello to the table next to his. Sighing in relief as he stared at his laptop, he continued to type as he waited for her to take a seat. It was as if the fates were finally blessing him. He needed to take advantage of the opportunity.

Here she was, now sitting less than five feet from him, and he had no idea what to say to her. She pulled out a notebook and appeared to be reviewing over some notes. Every few minutes she jotted down something on the paper.

Jareth chided himself because he felt like a randy teenager who was trying to approach the girl for a dance. He was a fucking king for crying out loud! He never had to woo the women, it was always the opposite, but he knew she wouldn't fall for such cliched lines.

After spending thirty minutes trying to build up the courage to say something to her, the red light indicating his battery would soon die on his laptop began blinking. Scrambling for his power charger, Jareth looked around for a wall outlet. Once again, the fates were on his side because there was one right next to Sarah's table.

This was it. This was his moment. He could't afford to blow it.

"Excuse me, I was wondering if you wouldn't mind plugging this into the outlet behind you?" Jareth asked.

Sarah grabbed and plugged in the cord without even looking at the man who posed the question. He waited for her to give him some eye contact, but was denied.

"Thank you." He hoped his accent would pique her interest.

See me. The Goblin King is back. You will give in to me. I've been waiting for this moment for so long, and it will be glorious.

"You're welcome." Sarah said, finally acknowledging him.

The joy Jareth had waited to experience with her finally seeing him vanished quickly because there was not one ounce of recognition on her face. She slightly smiled at him, but he was around humans long enough to understand that it was just a common courtesy that was done.

See me. See me. See me.

Jareth repeated the words in his head, wanting nothing more than for his voice to ring in her head. Yet again, nothing.

Rather than make the moment even more awkward, Jareth turned back towards his laptop, knowing that now was not the time to engage her in a conversation considering he was heavily disappointed. The moment he had spent so much time building up deflated quickly. It was a bust, and rather than be angry with himself, he tried to find another way to pull her in to him.

His chance would come almost thirty minutes later.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, but could you please keep an eye on this?" Sarah asked as she patted the wheeled cello case. "I have to go to the bathroom."

"Sure, precious." Jareth said, hoping his use of the pet name would stir a reaction. Again, nothing.

He watched as she walked towards the restroom, figuring that this would be the best opportunity to try and recover some shred of a "reunion" with her. A few minutes later she returned.

"Thanks." Sarah said as she sat down.

"You didn't, you know."

Now she looked directly at him, giving him her full attention.

"Didn't what?"

"Disturb me."

"Oh."

There was another awkward pause before Jareth decided to take the lead.

"So, what's that contraption you've got that. I had to guard it, so I think I should know what it is."

"It's my cello, Mischa."

"You've named your cello."

"You'd be surprised how many musicians name their instruments."

"So, you're a cellist?"

"Yes. When I was a child, I played the violin for a few years, but then I gravitated towards this beauty." Sarah said, smiling at the case that contained Mischa.

"So, am I to assume that Mischa is a famous cellist?"

"Mischa Maisky. I have another one at the school I teach at, but I haven't given her a name yet."

"So, you already know its gender?" Jareth said, trying to relax her with a little bit of humor.

It worked because she smiled.

"It's just one of those things you know."

"A gut feeling?"

"Yes, exactly."

"So, since you're a musician, am I to assume that you're part of a symphony?"

"I play with a few of my co-workers, but I'm not officially part of any group. I do have an audition today to join the New York Philharmonic. That's always been a goal of mine, but I don't think I'll get it."

"Why not?" Jareth asked as he leaned towards her.

"I don't think I have enough experience as a player. I only started in my late teens, and I'm sure some of the people I'm up against have been playing since they were little children. I am thankful for the audition though. Experience is the best teacher, right?"

"I hope you get it."

"Thank you. Now it's just a matter of having to calm my nerves. I hate playing in front of people."

"But you're a musician?" Jareth slowly drew out the words.

"The irony doesn't escape me, you know."

Jareth wanted to tell her that she was a sight to behold, but he couldn't give away the fact that he saw her perform. He thought about mentioning something about how familiar she looked, but she still appeared to be rather cautious. He began to understand that it wasn't just him, she was cautious of the world around her.

"So why do you play?"

"I don't play to make others happy. For me, the music is the calming eye in the storm."

She was no longer looking at him, but now, at her cello.

"It's kept me going these past few years; it's cleared up a fog in my life. I do love teaching though. I think I'd rather teach the instrument than tour the world playing it. That sounds really pathetic, right?"

"No. No, it doesn't. I'm Seth Carrington." Jareth extended his hand toward hers.

She extended hers and gently shook his warm, soft hand.

"Sarah Williams."

"It's nice to meet you Sarah."

Jareth let his fingers linger a little more longer than he should have. Sarah didn't seem to notice it, but he was hesitant to pull his hand away given how much he immediately missed her warmth.

"I've never seen you here. I'm sorry if that comes off as rude." Sarah said.

Jareth smiled at her; she truly was remarkable. "I don't mind at all."

"What do you do?" It appeared as if she caught herself quickly and scolded herself for being so forward. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be so nosy. It's just that you're the first person I've ever met, in the flesh, that has an accent."

Jareth's confusion only grew. Surely, she must have remembered something from her time in the labyrinth. She had to know that they met before. He didn't look like his "normal self," but he was sure his eyes and voice would somehow be the beacon of remembrance.

"I'm a corporate lawyer. My firm back home in London sent me to the New York office for a few weeks to get some accounts taken care of. I am but a transient."

"And you Miss Williams? You don't seem like the type to be from around here?"

"Oh no, I'm not from around here."

He knew he would have to pry the information from here, softly and slowly. Now it was time to roll out with the big guns.

"I can't help but feel like I've seen you somewhere. It just feels like we've met before."

Smooth one Goblin King.

He hoped that would somehow trigger something in her memory, but she appeared slightly confused.

"I saw a show recently at the Alistair Tulle Hall. Maybe that explains why you seem so familiar." He deliberately mixed up the name.

Sarah lit up a bit and smiled.

"The Alice Tully Hall? I performed there recently."

"That has to be it then. You were splendid. It takes a certain level of talent to memorize that entire piece."

"Thanks." Sarah smiled down at her notes, embarrassed to receive the compliment.

Jareth could see her cheeks blushing slightly and it gave him a certain feeling of comfort knowing that he was causing that reaction.

"So, what if this audition is a success? Will you get travel around the world?"

"It's just a chair. Some of the musicians tour, and I think they only offer that to their seasoned players. I would love to travel, but there are complications."

"Fear of flying?"

"No, just complications." Sarah said.

Now it was time to roll out with the bigger guns.

"It's too bad. You seem as if you haven't seen much of the world. Sure, this is a big city, but all big cities are small after a certain length of time." Jareth leaned forward, knowing that he was intruding in on her personal space. "What about London? Have you ever considered playing there?"

"No." Sarah responded, pulling away from the stranger.

"Well, maybe one day I could show you the underground and all of its tubular glory."

He was slow and deliberate in his speech. Jareth made sure to look her in the eyes. Intimidation wasn't the proper way to seduce someone, but he couldn't think of any other option in that moment.

He deliberately connected what New Yorkers called "the subway" with London's version of it, still hoping that the use of his kingdom would shake her memory. She was uncomfortable, but not because of any recognition. Her face was stoic as she began to pack away her things.

He knew he must have somehow offended her. Women usually liked to be pursued in such a manner, at least, that was what he saw around him. Sarah Williams, however, retreated like the deer in the forest that sensed danger. He regretted his words immediately.

"I've got to go." She said, as she continued to pack away her things. "I can't be late for my audition."

Realizing that he just may have scared her off, Jareth tried to quickly save what was left of their conversation.

"I'm truly sorry if I offended you." His apology was genuine. "It's just that, I'm not very good with people. Ironic, I know, given my line of work. I can lead a group without second guessing myself, but one on one conversations tend to be trickier."

He wanted to mention how beautiful she was, hence, his flustering, but he knew that she wouldn't fall for that version of flattery.

Sarah stood up and grabbed her cello case before looking up at him. For a moment he thought she would just walk away and ignore his confession, and that seemed to be the scenario as she approached the door. Jareth felt like an epic failure as he watched her walk farther away from him, but then she hesitated before pushing open the door. He heard her release a breath before looking back at him and saying, "I'm not good very good with people either."

Then she was gone.

He expected her to swoon at his words, become enraptured with his attentions, and fall into the palm of his hand. None of that happened, and before gathering his stuff to leave, Jareth knew that he had his work cut out for him. He would have to find another way to approach her.

Why did it seem like her memories of their time together were erased? Was such a thing possible? Jareth left the coffee shop with more questions than he had answers, and the anger that he had spent years upon years building up was now replaced with confusion. What happened to Sarah Williams? He was more determined than ever to find out.