The Red Thread – Part Four
The dinghy glided the last few feet across the water and gently bumped against the shore. There was a very small spit of black-and-white sanded beach that swept back a few yards before meeting the forest line. The place was unearthly quiet; Sarah didn't hear any animals. The only sound was the tiny splashing noises from the dinghy moving in the water, and her own breathing.
Jareth got out of the boat with a few graceful movements, then held out a hand for her. Now that she had pledged herself to the Goblin King, he seemed…different. Enlivened, challenging, and he kept regarding her with an almost amused expression. What had he said? She would regret the decision, and while Sarah shivered when she thought about being with the Goblin King—possibly forever—she couldn't see how that would be worse than being dead. She was only twenty-eight, for god's sake! Her life had barely begun!
She would miss her family, particularly Toby…
No, don't think about that now, she told herself, firmly. One thing at a time. Yeah, like getting through Death's domain first. As her foot touched the sandy beach, she felt like pinching herself to make sure this was really happening. She was going to walk through the Land of Death. Holy crap, she was dead.
Jareth tugged her towards the forest line, causing Sarah to come out of her thoughts. She followed him, studying his broad back. This man was going to be her…what? Ruler? There hadn't been any talk about marriage or love; saying a string connected them was all well and good, and having a book that hinted at love was convenient, but it didn't prove anything.
Although he is going to face Death with you—for you, Sarah reminded herself.
The forest was dank and smelled like moldy decay. Sarah didn't like the place and kept close to Jareth. Low-hanging branches slapped in her face. A few times she thought she heard rustling, but when she looked, there was no one. Jareth's expression was set in grim determination and he walked quickly enough that Sarah had to quicken her pace to keep up with his longer legs. Yet, she didn't tell him to slow down. There was something about this daring Jareth she liked. He looked like a knight ready for battle—a knight in dark armor.
Jareth seemed to know where he was going, for her led her confidently. As they pushed through the brush, the trees began to change subtly. Before, they had been thick and green like jungle trees, but now they changed into the woody kinds she was familiar with. To her surprise, many of these trees were blooming with beautiful, delicate white-gold flowers and a few had heavy fruits that looked like apples or plums. Once, as they passed by a particularly radiant plum tree, she lifted a hand to snag a fruit from a low hanging branch.
Suddenly, Jareth wrenched her away, causing her shoulder to jerk in its socket painfully.
"Don't touch it!" he snapped. "Have you forgotten your entire dreamer's knowledge, Sarah? You cannot eat anything here or you'll stay forever and nothing I do will free you."
"I…it was just so pretty."
"Just like a certain peach?" Jareth answered, amused, as he started walking again.
Sarah's back stiffened, but she trotted to keep up. "That's different. You purposefully gave me that peach to poison me! You probably made it perfect looking to tempt me!"
"And what do you think these are?" Jareth shook his head, sighing. "The food of the dead is beautiful, perfect, but flavorless to the living—and poisonous in its own way."
"I thought I was dead?"
"You are still a journeying soul," Jareth answered, off-handed. His eyes were fixated in front of him. He seemed to be looking for something. "I can touch you, after all. If you had truly entered death, entered your final resting place, I wouldn't be able to help you. Our connection makes you…special." Suddenly, he pointed. "There!"
Sarah glanced where he was pointing, but it looked like more forest to her. However, Jareth walked through the bushes and dragged her along. On the other side was the mouth of a cave. Sarah looked into its black maw and shuddered.
"Do we have to go down there?" she asked, nervously, because Jareth had stopped in front of the cave.
"Yes. Beneath the ground is the Underworld."
Sarah did not want to follow him, but he continued forward and she didn't want to be left behind. The cave looked ominous; it smelled dank and moldy, but beyond that there was a smell of a decay that hung heavy on the air and, when she inhaled, the stench stuck in her throat, cloyingly. She decided she detested this cave, its winding corridors, the isolation of it, the smell of it.
The cave wasn't dark, at least. If it had been, she wouldn't've been able to stand it. Instead, little flecks of mica in the stone walls glowed with an eerie but beautiful white light. It gave just enough illumination to dimly light their way.
However, Jareth seemed to know where he was going. The cave constantly sloped downward and they kept trudging deeper into the cave, and into the very bowels of earth. The cave narrowed to single-file and Sarah walked behind Jareth, keeping a hand on his arm. He walked with a long, confident gait and kept alert for what Sarah wasn't sure, but she figured if it found them, they would be in trouble.
Suddenly, the cave opened up and they were in a giant chamber, at least a football field in length. The walls and ceiling still had the glowing flecks, although the light was even dimmer here, swallowed by the great expanse of the room. At the center of the chamber was an abyss that spanned its entire width. On their side, lined up, were…spirits.
There was no other word for the people-shaped entities made of white light. Features were visible in a vague sort of way, obscured by all that glowing mass. They were spirits in the truest sense of the word, the kind Sarah had always imagined, and they were standing in a single file as if waiting for a ride in Disneyland.
As she and Jareth neared them, she noticed they looked tired. Their forms were hunched over, some seemed to be shivering. Then, to her horror, she watched as the one at the front of the line looked into the abyss, sighed—and jumped. Sarah gasped as the glowing entity disappeared. Suddenly, she didn't want to go near that abyss. She stopped and Jareth took a step or two forward before looking back with a raised eyebrow. He followed her gaze to the spirits and said, "Sarah, this is the land of the dead, and they're on the last leg of their journey."
"No…" Sarah shook her head as the next spirit looked down the abyss, wailed, and jumped. "No, don't make me, Jareth."
"Make you? Foolish child, you asked me to save you." Jareth sighed. "One way or another, you will be going down there. However, I suppose you can rescind your request still and travel this way as those souls do." He nodded to the jumpers.
"I—I—" She could see just over the lip of the abyss, and everything was dark. Darkness, never ending darkness, and she had to fall into it.
"Sarah," Jareth said, touching her arm. She jumped. She hadn't noticed him moving back to her and the sudden touch tore her gaze away from the abyss and moved it to his face. What was it she saw in those depths? What was it the shadows hid from her? She wished there was more light so she could see his eyes more clearly, but for just a moment did she see an infinite sadness and something heartbreakingly tender? Did he realize her fear and feel for her? Was he being gentle with her? Jareth had been rather brisk and business-like since she'd struck this deal. She'd assumed it was because he'd gotten what he wanted—her. What if he was afraid of Death's domain, as well? Or maybe he was afraid for her?
Sarah heard another soft wail and looked back at the abyss. The line never seemed to shrink; for every person that jumped, someone took their place at the back of the line. She said, half to herself, "There's no guarantee that if I go down there I'll come back out."
"There's no guarantees when it comes to life—or death."
How very profound, Sarah thought. It was funny how unpredictable her emotions were; they swept the gambit of fear, amusement, uncertainty, anger. But, at that moment, she couldn't help but think about her life—her very, in the end, ordinary life. One spark, one moment of adventure had changed her forever, but she'd gone back to the ordinary. She'd even had a very ordinary death.
"What a waste," Sarah muttered.
"Excuse me?"
"I was just…thinking. Dead from a car crash, how very uninspiring. At one time I imagined adventuring the jungles of the Amazon or killing dragons. I suppose dragons exist?"
Jareth's expression turned amusingly enigmatic. Ahuh, I bet they do, Sarah thought, grinning. But, her grin quickly faded and she glanced at the abyss again. "I guess I should thank you for taking my little brother. If you hadn't sauntered into my life, I would be just another soul. No chances."
Jareth sighed, looking pained. "Ah, Precious, what exactly do you want me to say? I can tell you what I'm sure has crossed both our minds—that if you had taken my final gift, this day would have been avoided."
Sarah frowned. "It wouldn't have been much of a life for me—or you. I mean, I was fifteen, a total brat. I'd've been hellish to live with, Jareth, and totally naïve in everything that counted—in life, before you think anything else." She added this last because Jareth's eyebrows rose suggestively. Right now was not the time to think about that. Sure, she had imagined what life would have been like with him if she had taken the crystal at the end. Just love me, do as I say, and I will be your slave. She'd have been lying if she'd said it hadn't been tempting. How many women could say they were wooed by a magical being? A man so handsome and yet otherworldly that he changed the word "beautiful" into something…more?
Sarah realized something and said, "Final gift? What other gift did you give me?"
"Ah, what did I not give you?" Jareth said. It was a presumptuous statement and Sarah let her expression show that, but Jareth didn't rise to the bait and simply continued, "Besides the songs, the seductions, the adventure, the magic, what else did I give you, indeed? I was thinking of this…" He raised his hand, his forefinger and thumb pinched the red thread as if offering it to her. Once again, they were tied together and once again Sarah felt brief annoyance that the thread seemed to appear whenever Jareth wanted to make a point, and yet it rarely appeared for her. Jareth added, softly, "I have never let myself be tied thusly before."
"Anyone ever tried to 'tie you'?" Sarah snapped, still annoyed by this obvious manipulation—and damn, it was working because her heartstrings were tugging. She almost wanted to shout at Jareth "what do you want from me?" She doubted it was anything as simple as the adult relations she had imagined as a horny teenager, but she couldn't bring herself to ask the question. She was a coward, afraid of the answer, especially now that she had given herself to the Goblin King.
"No," Jareth said, shrugging. He didn't seem bothered by the fact. "This does not happen often."
"Let's get going." Sarah wasn't sure she liked where this conversation was going, and she'd made her decision. She'd made her decision on the banks of this strange island where nothing seemed to be really alive. For my life, she reminded herself.
Jareth inclined his head and they walked to the edge of the abyss. Sarah's heart pounded harder and harder with every step she took and when she looked over the edge, she felt faint. Blackness—just unending blackness. It terrified her.
As if to punctuate her fear, she heard another soft wail as another spirit launched itself down the abyss.
Her feet felt like lead. I don't think I can do it, she thought.
Jareth gripped her hand and said, "Close your eyes, Sarah. You will fall, but not to your death."
Oh, that's almost funny, Sarah thought, but she closed her eyes as he suggested. He tugged her hand forward and she hesitated for a brief moment before following him. One second she was on firm, solid ground and the next her feet came into contact with—nothing. She floated for a brief moment as time seemed to hold still—and then she was plunging down. The air was cold against her face and her fear was like a rock in her throat, keeping her from screaming like she really wanted to. Oh, but she felt that scream in her chest like a bird beating its wings against its cage.
Jareth, thankfully, did not release his hold from her and then, to her surprise, he pulled her close. Or maybe he pulled himself closer to her. Regardless, he wrapped his arms around her and held her, almost making a protective guard against her and the darkness. Sarah pushed her face against his chest, shuddering from the fear of falling in total darkness. She couldn't see his face; even his golden hair was obscured by the abyss. But she could smell his skin when she pressed her face to his neck, where the low cut off his shirt let her feel his flesh against her cheek. He smelled like wood smoke and spice. She calmed a little by his gentleness.
"The ground," Jareth warned and a moment later they touched down gently. She suspected his magic was to thank for that. The ground felt deliciously firm and wonderful under her feet. Her knees were wobbly like jelly and she nearly toppled over, but Jareth kept an arm around her shoulders and held her up until her heart stopped beating so hard and she was able to firmly stand again. Then she looked around.
They were in a grand room. The walls were made of stone, but decorated with odd tapestries and paintings that were alive. She watched as a medieval-style tapestry of a deer hunt actually played out, the threads that made up the hunting party galloped through the forest, the trees flashing by as they moved, chasing a deer made of chestnut-colored threads. She turned away finally, noting the rich red rugs laid out on the cold, marble floors. On the ceiling was a huge chandelier made of semi-precious jewels and flickering candles. The light shined through the gems, casting a multicolored light that engulfed the room and gave it a magical atmosphere. At the center of the room was a dais draped in the same types of rugs with golden flowers embroidered along it. A black throne sat on the dais and seated on it was a tall, thin person draped in expensive silks. The person stood, the robes obscuring any features that would have given away a gender, and this person wore a strange hat. It swept out on either side like stubby wings and rose from the middle in a square shape. Attached to it was a veil that came down and obscured the face, tying to the color. It was tight enough against the person's face that she saw the definition of a nose and lips, and the ridges of eyes, but otherwise the person was undefined, faceless.
"Death," Jareth said, bowing low. He cast Sarah a glance that indicated she should follow suit, so she bowed just as low as the Goblin King. Jareth gave her a brief nod, but the expression also said: Don't say anything.
"Why are you here?"
Sarah gasped, for the voice had come from her mind, and she had not seen the definition of the lips move behind the mask. The mind-voice was also genderless, she could only think of the robed figure as Death. It was strangely disconcerting, and the tall, thin visage—for Death was almost eight feet—was almost frightening. Staring at that veil, Sarah definitely felt intimidated. Her heart pounded loudly in her chest again. How annoying to still contend with such feelings, even though she was dead. She wondered if those spirits' hearts had raced before they'd jumped into the abyss.
"A favor," Jareth answered.
Death moved slightly and Sarah felt the figure's regard heavy on her. She flushed, looking away, unable to watch Death watch her. Finally, she heard the mind-voice say: "This soul has died, it is mine."
"No," Jareth said, "she has given herself to me."
"Love." The mind-voice sounded contemptuous. "Love does not last in my domain. Promises of the flesh do not last."
Jareth didn't answer, he merely raised his hand and the red thread tangled around his fingers, clearly tied to his wrist and Sarah's. The mind-voice hissed angrily, but when it spoke, it sounded almost amused.
"How annoying." A pause, then, "But ultimately useless. So she pledged her soul to you?"
I did? Oh shit, Sarah thought, the gravity of what that meant sinking in, but she had no chance to think further about it, because Jareth nodded and said, "She is mine."
He looked—amazing. Battle-ready, unflinching. His hair moved in an unseen and unfelt wind, his eyes were sparking with magic, and he stood tall and dignified against Death. Jareth was a king.
"You received the Underground to steward, I received Death," the mind-voice admonished, as if reminding an errant child of a lesson, "and in the end all of the Aboveground's peoples are mine. Your claim means only a test for her, and she will fail."
Before Sarah could say anything to that, Death was suddenly in front of her, so quickly she hadn't seen him move. From one moment to the next, he simply stood there. Sarah cried out, falling back a step before she could stop herself. She cringed in front of Death, and she wasn't ashamed to admit it.
Death simply regarded her. She stared at that faceless veil, the ridges where the eyebrows would be. With a gloved hand, Death gripped her chin and tipped her face up. Sarah's skin crawled with the knowledge that Death was touching her, but she didn't struggle. From the corner of her eye, she saw Jareth stiffen. His expression was an unhappy one, as if he wanted to rip her away but knew he could not.
"What say you, little mortal?" the mind-voice cooed. "Would you like to take a test, give your soul to him, when you could come into my warm embrace for all eternity?"
A warmth came over Sarah, like she had jumped into a heated pool. She kept staring at Death, but suddenly she didn't feel frightened anymore. A great, immeasurable affection surrounded her and she felt content. She knew that going with Death would not be horrible but a peaceful respite; she would be loved, cherished, watched like a precious stone. Life was lonely, long, and filled with strife, but she would finally get her just rewards. She would be forever beloved in Death's embrace, never worrying about the concerns the living had to contend with every day. Work? Bills? Pain? Hate? The needs of the flesh? It all seemed so far away and inconsequential. Even things like joy and love seemed tiring. She always sought those fleeting feelings; she worked hard for a few seconds of happiness. What was the point of that? Why did she want to go back to life?
Sarah opened her mouth. Almost, almost she told Death to take her, to embrace her, to never let her go. Almost the words slipped past her lips. But, at the last moment, she felt a vicious tug at her wrist that sent a bolt of white-hot pain from her hand up her arm and to her heart like a flaming dart. She gasped, the spell broken. She jerked out of Death's grip and looked down to see the red thread tied around her wrist. She followed it to its end, tied to the Goblin King. Jareth was clutching some of it. He'd tugged the string.
She turned back to Death. Maybe Death was wonderful, a much needed rest at the end of a long journey, but she wasn't ready for it. She stood straight, her back stiff, and said, "I gave a promise to the Goblin King, so that I could live again."
The mind-voice sighed. "Very well, then you must be tested."
"Why?" Sarah asked, nervously, before she could stop herself.
"Because you are dead and you should be mine," the mind-voice said. "I give respite, you ask for the affrays of life. The journey from Death is never an easy one, and if you want to transfer your soul away from my embrace to this Other then you must prove yourself worthy of such a thing. Death does not give way easily. If you pass, then you will never know my comfort. Are you prepared to potentially never walk the path of your brothers and sisters?"
Sarah shivered at the thought. She remembered how wonderful it had felt to be touched by Death. The seduction of it had been unlike anything she'd ever felt before—beyond love, beyond ecstasy, beyond desire. Could she willingly give that up? And for what? So her soul would become the Goblin King's? What did that mean?
Sarah hesitated, and she saw Jareth stiffen. His eyes glowed like embers, watching her. She stared back and thought about the ballroom dance, the dinghy, their shared memories and words. She thought about her life: her beloved brother, about to start middle school, her loving family; her hard-earned knowledge; her friends; her experiences. She thought about the beauty she'd witnessed, the triumph of playing Ophelia on stage, the biting cold of the winters and the sticky humidity of the summers. She remembered the beach, feeling gritty sand between her toes, the cool and salty ocean, and the feel of the rolling waves against her skin.
The truth of the matter was that Sarah Williams would always choose life. At that moment, she felt infinitely old, mature beyond her years. That part of her whispered in her mind: Maybe this is why the Goblin King was drawn to you enough to sing for you and dance with you.
Sarah said, "I choose life."
The masked face nodded once and then the world went black.
Author's Comments: Wow, this story is getting longer than I initially anticipated. I'm still trying to make it as I outlined it, which is five parts and an epilogue. However, by the time I finish a chapter I'm always surprised at the word count. I hope you're enjoying it instead of wondering when it's going to end. :) Death makes an appearance! And I would have loved to explore the island further, but Jareth had a specific goal in mind - save Sarah. I might write up an "Extras" tidbit that shows some stuff I ended up not using, we'll see. Anyway, hope you guys enjoyed Death's appearance. I find him/her/it a fascinating personification, and while I love Terry Pratchett's Death, I always feel Death should be more terrifyingly beautiful than anything else. :)
I'm glad to see that most of you were surprised by the last chapter. I actually began this story with a very vague idea of what I wanted to accomplish but now I am more solidified in what's going to happen. A few shout-outs:
Tomoe-gozen52: Yeah, I would have loved to explore that world more, but it was not to be.
FelineGrace: Hope this update will keep me out of the land of Death. ;)
Curly-kitty: At the risk of sounding callous, I'm pleased you screamed in frustration. Means my writing is improving! :)
Pinkflora: Jareth has proven in the past that it's dangerous to ask for wishes from him, and here Sarah is doing the same thing again! At the risk of being a little spoiler-ish, I don't see him as vindictive, but I don't see him as a fluffy Jareth either. Sarah may very well regret her choice.
Simply01: Glad you like it!
Artseblis: Thank you! Although I don't think Jareth could ever be innocent. :P
Merlinswit: Don't blame me, blame my muse! She's a devious creature! She leads me to believe a story will be short and then keeps plying me with ideas that keep it going longer than intended! And thanks for thinking of getting Jareth photos for me. I will look forward to it. What can I say? There's few characters that make me squee like the Goblin King can. XD
BTW, I just realized my last update was two weeks-or-so again. My gosh, time flies! I actually started a new job and am trying to prepare for it...while writing fanfictions and editing my original work...so that's the reason for any delays. I will try my best to get the next chapter up this week.
Please review! All suggestions/questions/comments welcome and cherished! I love seeing what people think about my writing (and in fact the immediacy of posting writing here is a wonderful tool to help me perfect my craft), whether good or bad. What do you think about Death? About Sarah's choices? About Jareth? Leave a little comment in the box! :)
Disclaimer: As always, I own nothing regarding the Labyrinth, Jareth, and Sarah. These are characters originally from the movie. I only lay claim to my own, original characters. This is a not-for-profit story. Please do not take it and post it or copy it anywhere else without my express permission beforehand. Thank you.