The Red Thread – Part Five
The world came back to Sarah suddenly, as if she'd opened her eyes. She thought, I'm getting sick of this… and when her gaze focused, she found herself in a long, skinny hallway. She was standing, across from her was Death. The floors and wall were made of stone, and the only decoration were mirrors on the walls. Sarah glanced into the one closest to her and saw herself, tired and drawn, but since the mirrors had been positioned so they faced each other, the reflections were mirrors within mirrors, spanning into infinity. She saw herself reflected again and again. It was disquieting and she looked away.
"Where am I?" she asked, not looking at Death but at the floor. She didn't like seeing Death with the faceless veil and the long robes. She didn't like feeling Death's gaze on her.
"Between time."
"Where's Jareth?"
"Back in the chamber. He can wait, you have other things to occupy you."
"The test," Sarah said.
"Yes." Sarah glanced up to see Death indicate the mirrors. Her eyes dropped back to her hands and she saw the red string tied around her wrist for an instant. When she blinked, it was gone. "You and he claim that thread connects both of you…enough so that you can slip away as if you were not mortal. Very well, then prove this connection to me."
Sarah looked up, startled. The veil indicated nothing of what Death meant. Sarah said, "How?"
"The connection was wrought in an instant, and you will have felt it. Choose that moment then and prove your tie to him."
"What? What do you mean?" Sarah asked.
Something in the corner of her eye moved and she jerked to the side, startled. The mirrors were moving, the reflections in them fading. She looked back to question Death further, but found she was alone. With a grunt of frustration, she turned back to the mirror next to her and watched as an image formed. To her surprise, she saw herself coming to Ludo's rescue. A moment in the Labyrinth, caught like a fly in amber, with perfect precision and color. The crispness of the image was better than memory. She wondered if this was that moment frozen in time.
She walked the long hallway. Each mirror had a different moment affixed in it. She looked, fascinated, feeling a little like a patron in some magical museum of art. She saw herself at fifteen in that poet's shirt and vest ensemble she loved so much, holding her hand out to receive the peach Hoggle offered. She saw the look of distaste on her face as Hoggle sprayed another fairy. She saw the exhilarated fear as she ran away from the Cleaners. There she was, again and again, and looking at this younger self she was struck by just how innocent and young she looked. Years of living had taken away the naïveté from her eyes, or so she thought.
However, what fascinated her more than her own visage—or any of her friends—was the Goblin King. She had been too engrossed in her quest to really pay attention to him, to the subtle expressions he wore. She stared at his face when he had sent the Cleaners after her. Was that regret she saw? And what else? Amusement, worry, indecision? How could one face manage to convey so much to her?
In another, she was shocked to see Jareth leaning over her sleeping form, a hand outstretched for the peach that she still clutched. She didn't remember that…and yet after she stared at the mirror for a very long time, she thought she could almost remember something. A voice whispered in her ear: "Dream beautiful dreams about me, Precious…"
Oh boy…she turned away. Well, that mirror answered one thing: these reflections were not moments from her mind but showed both sides. Death was everywhere, after all.
Okay, she was here for a purpose. What was it? She replayed Death's words again in her mind. The connection was wrought in an instant—he'd been talking about the thread. Choose that moment and prove your tie to him—what did that mean? She had to choose the moment the connection was created? That seemed way too easy, after all Jareth had already told her when that connection had happened: in the ballroom.
Well, Sarah intended to pass this test. Feeling the same determination as she had when she was fifteen and traipsing through the Labyrinth, Sarah began walking down the hallway looking at all the mirrors, searching for one particular memory. She felt so alive! How she'd missed the days of adventuring! Although her time in the Labyrinth had been so short, it had been some of the best moments in her life—moments she had found her worth, challenged herself, had been scared and exhilarated and angry and determined all at the same time. She felt like that again and oh, how she'd missed it.
Finally, Sarah stopped in front of a mirror. Ah yes, she recognized that scene. She saw herself caught in that moment, in that damn princess dress which had made her feel…out of place. Her hair teased up until it was bigger than her head. Now, it seemed almost silly, like a child playing dress up; back then she didn't notice the clothes as much as everything else. The jesters and court people particularly disturbed her.
Sarah reached out and touched the mirror and the scene came alive, like someone pressing play on a VCR. It was odd watching the scene from some omnipresent third person; she saw things that jogged her memory, like the low-hanging pearls from the chandeliers. She remembered once they had brushed her cheek and she had jumped. And then—yes, even in the mirror she saw the moment she had seen the Goblin King. She'd walked forward, pulled by an invisible force, unable to look away. Again he was hiding his face behind a mask. Why did he do that so often with her? And then he'd lowered the mask and their eyes had met…
"Oh god," Sarah whispered, because now she was viewing it with the wisdom of hindsight and thirteen extra years. At fifteen, she'd been transfixed by that gaze, staring with her mouth slightly open and her eyes wide, unable to process the cacophony of emotions and thoughts in her mind. Now, she recognized that look in the Goblin King's face.
What the girl didn't know…
"I didn't know," Sarah murmured.
But, as she watched the scene, something tugged at her mind. This isn't right, she thought. Death had said she needed to find the moment the connection had been forged and despite Jareth saying it was that instance he saw her in the ballroom—she could swear she saw love in his eyes already. And she had been drawn to him, unable to pull away…as if they had been connected.
She saw him smile slightly as he watched her and shook her head. Smug bastard, even in love, she thought. It was very surreal to remind herself that the Goblin King was looking at her with that look on his face. But, the more she watched the mirror, the more she had to admit this just wasn't right.
Just to be sure, she watched the whole memory. The singing—she remembered that haunting voice—his voice—in her mind. And then when she had finally caught up to him, or more like he finally appeared in front of her, and they had danced he had sung to her. She shook her head and muttered, "A little less smugness, Goblin King, and I think you would have won." So intense, they were both so intense as they danced; she felt her girlish emotions again watching that scene and felt her cheeks flame with the knowledge of that first womanly realization she'd had in his arms.
Forever may not be long enough…
And then Sarah had noticed everyone was laughing at her, as if they knew something she didn't. Then the clock had struck and she'd glanced at Jareth to see triumph flare in his eyes, along with the ever-present conceit. Anger and fear had blossomed in her. Damn him, she had thought. I won't be caught! She'd pushed away…
Sarah kept watching the mirror because now she noticed something she'd never seen before. She had been too preoccupied with running away to see the look on the Goblin King's face when she tore out of his arms.
Surprise, and the conceit was gone, and…pain.
Sarah jerked away from the mirror and the scene faded to black before reappearing as it had before she had touched the surface: just a frozen moment of her in the princess gown entering the ballroom.
Sarah breathed heavily, as if she had been running a marathon. She shuddered, haunted by the Goblin King's expression. Oh, they had a lot to talk about if she passed this test.
Thinking about the test helped bring her back to her purpose. With slightly shaking hands, Sarah pressed her palms to her cheeks and pressed her fingers to her temples. Think Sarah, think! She had always believed in following her gut—it had helped her win back Toby, after all. Her gut was saying the ballroom wasn't it; the connection hadn't been forged there.
Okay, so when? She thought, looking to either side of her at the long hallway with its dozens of mirrors. Which memory showed the right moment in time?
She began wandering aimlessly through the hallway, glancing at mirrors, trying to decide. Perhaps because her mind was on the past, she remembered all the other times she tried to figure out which way she was going. Marking the cobblestones with her lipstick had been, in her opinion, pure brilliance…too bad the Labyrinth had been one step ahead of her.
She stopped in front of a mirror that showed her crouching against the wall, her head in her hands, and a tiny worm next to her. Without thinking, Sarah reached out and touched the mirror's surface.
"Things are not always what they seem," the worm had said.
That wall trick had been mind-bending and annoying, and then Sarah was able to hear what the worm said when she had left. She moved away from the mirror, angrily. "I could have gone straight to the castle?" She grumbled, thirteen years later. "I forgot how annoyingly unfair that place was."
However, the worm made a good point. Sometimes things weren't always what they seemed. Actually, the denizens of the Labyrinth had usually given her good advice. What was it the Wiseman had said? "The way forward is sometimes the way back."
Sarah walked down the hallway again, her mind working quickly, her eyes scanning the mirrors…looking for something, although she wasn't sure what.
"Things are not always what they seem."
"The way forward is sometimes the way back."
"Things are not always what they seem."
Sarah stopped in front of a mirror that showed her fifteen year old self looking over the Labyrinth for the first time, from a cliff close by. The wind had been a hot desert wind. Her mind was already remembering. Sarah reached out and touched the mirror, watching the memory unfold in front of her eyes, even as it unfolded in her own mind.
She had felt so isolated, lonely, and afraid on that cliff looking at the majestic and alien world of the Labyrinth span out before her. Can I really do this? She wondered, and as if to mimic her thoughts, behind her she had heard that voice:
"Do you still want to do this?"
In the mirror, she saw her bedroom disappear, in the blink of an eye, and only Jareth remained in that dramatic, high-collared cloak and dark armor ensemble. The wind whipped around him much more than her, accentuating his magical otherworldliness.
She watched her fifteen year old self shore up her bravery. She turned and faced the Goblin King. "Is that the Castle Beyond the Goblin City?"
Damn Jareth, he looked magnificent. "Turn back Sarah, turn back before it's too late."
Sarah had always been contrary—there was that part of her still. Hearing the Goblin King tell her to turn back had had the opposite impact. She'd told him she couldn't.
"What a pity…"
Sarah gasped as she watched the mirror memory. She had turned her back on the Goblin King but now she watched him walk up to her, to coo in her ear, "It's further than you think." But, as he approached her, he had been looking at her and…there it was, not as intensely as in the ballroom, to be sure, but there was definitely fascination. Oh, how much she'd missed thirteen years ago!
She watched her past self say, "Well, come on feet," after Jareth had disappeared and she expected the memory to end there, but the mirror continued to show her that cliff top with the clock still stuck in the sand. After a few moments, when the minute hand had moved once, Jareth reappeared and watched Sarah moving across the desert landscape to the Labyrinth.
He sighed, pressing his fingers to his forehead and shook his head. "Such a pity," he said to himself. When he looked up again, Sarah saw that brief flash of it in his eyes, that hopeful yearning and fascination. Watching this private moment, her heart tugged, as if someone pulled at it with a leash.
Jareth pressed his hand to the clock and with a flash of glitter, both he and the clock disappeared. The mirror went black, and Sarah turned away before it "rewound" itself to the frozen moment it had shown before.
She looked down at her wrist and saw the red string tied to it, going off down the hallway. She wondered if she followed it would it go through the wall? Would it lead her back to Jareth?
"Things are not always what they seem."
The worm had said that, but she'd never realized just how much she hadn't perceived as her fifteen year old self. She had seen a side of Jareth he had purposefully tried to hide from her; he'd only shown her brief glances, probably against his will, and she'd been too young to realize what those feelings in his mismatched eyes had meant.
Oh yes, the book had told her. The damn book, which she'd read cover-to-cover just like she'd read the Grimm's Fairytales. And just like everything the brothers Grimm had written, she hadn't really believed a word of it. Not even when she was journeying through the Labyrinth had she believed what was in front of her eyes.
Well, she was beginning to believe now.
"Sometimes the way forward is the way back." Yes indeed, she had to witness memories of the past if she wanted a future, but she had her answer for Death. She squared her shoulders and said, loudly, "There! That's the moment when the connection was made!"
She pointed to the mirror she'd just touched. "When Jareth sent me on a quest knowing how I would change, how difficult it would be for me, because it was a journey within myself as much as it was a journey within the Labyrinth. And I, already awed by the Goblin King, accepted that journey for the love felt for my brother—and because I wanted to show the Goblin King I was his equal. My power is as great as his, and love is formed on equality."
It was a grandiose speech, and probably unnecessary. Surely Death knew that stuff already? But Sarah had just learned it—or maybe she'd always known but never realized.
She heard the soft sound of swishing silk and whirled to see Death behind her. It took all her willpower not to shudder and shy away from its obscured face and formless, robed body. It neared her, quietly; only the sound of its robes filled the hallway, for its footfalls made no sound. Sarah's heart pounded so hard that she felt light-headed. Death created a flight response in her, like a prey animal cornered by its predator.
Death said, "My my, so wise all of a sudden…for a mortal."
"I—I chose correctly, then?"
"Yes. Shame, really," Death said, its arms clasped behind its back. "It means your soul is now his and can never be mine. You will never be mortal again. I do not take back what was taken from me."
Well, for now, she was willing to call that a victory. She said, "So, I can leave? I don't have to die?"
"Almost. You will be leaving here not as a journeying soul but as a living, breathing woman. The rules are slightly different," Death said.
Sarah choked back a sob. Now that she was so close to the end of this, she felt such fatigue. She wanted to go home, curl up on her bed, and sleep for a week. She said, "Why? Why can't I just leave? What else must I do?"
"Why, leaving is exactly what you must do," Death said, and Sarah could have sworn it sounded amused. "Leave my domain, Sarah, and you are free of me for all eternity. But, look back at what you have left behind…and any deals are off."
Sarah opened her mouth to ask what Death meant by "look back" when she found herself facing Jareth. He seemed just as surprised to see her, and then raised an eyebrow. Sarah realized she must look foolish, standing there with her mouth open.
"Good to see you again, it's been a while," she murmured. It felt like hours, perhaps it had been hours she had wandered the hallway looking at old memories.
Jareth said, "You were gone for an instant. But…is it finished?"
"Yes." Sarah looked around the chamber. It was just an empty cave chamber now. The opulence was gone; Death was gone. She said, "Let's leave."
"Indeed, let's go home," Jareth said, smiling a rather smug smile.
"Home"…my home's the Underground now, Sarah thought, her pulse picking up speed at the thought. She had yearned for her apartment bed just a few minutes earlier, but that life was gone now. She had traded her soul for life.
There was an opening at the far side of the chamber and they took it. Jareth said, "The way will be longer now, since you are alive."
"You know what happened?" Sarah asked, alarmed. What would Jareth think about her realizing his feelings? About spying on moments when he thought no one watched him?
But, Jareth said, "I can feel that you're alive when before you felt…suspended, for lack of a better word. And I know that a live person must walk a difficult path to leave Death's domain. You'll see horrible things, Sarah."
"I'm ready." Sarah stiffened her spine and fell in step beside the Goblin King. She remembered what Death had said—don't look back—and carefully kept her gaze ahead, although she felt the skin between her shoulder blades crawl as if someone watched her. Instinctually, she wanted to glance over her shoulder, but she fought the urge.
Come on feet, she thought. One step at a time; she'd be out before she knew it.
She surreptitiously glanced at Jareth. She had a lot of questions to ask him, forefront on her mind was the past. When did you realize you loved me? But, other questions also clamored in her mind. Now what? What will happen to me?
Sarah opened her mouth, expecting to ask something, but instead she said, "This must have been a bother for you."
"What do you mean?" Jareth glanced at her.
"You never asked for any of this—to help me, I mean. Or anything from when we first met, really. I rather selfishly wished away my brother and suddenly it's like a domino effect, everything else kind of happened."
"Domino effect," Jareth murmured. "I'd rather see it as a dance."
A dance. Sarah couldn't help but smile at the image. Sometimes she was leading—and she could just imagine how annoyed Jareth had been about that—and sometimes he definitely led her, but they were always spinning and spinning around the ballroom waiting for the music to end.
"I'm grateful for your help," Sarah said. "I'll try not to regret my decision."
Jareth didn't look at her, but she saw a smile tugging at his lips. "Will you truthfully try?"
"Yes."
"And what if I truthfully try to be villainous? Will I get to hear 'that's so unfair!' once again?"
Sarah frowned, although she couldn't help but grin. "Are you trying to make me say it?"
"Perhaps."
"I'm a bit too old now."
"What a pity," Jareth said, pleasantly.
"But," Sarah added, "I will think it quite a lot."
Jareth paused, thoughtfully tapping his chin with his forefinger. "I suppose that is acceptable."
Sarah chuckled. "Does that mean I can destroy the Goblin City again? Or smash your crystal dreams with chairs?"
"I'd rather there was no dream smashing this time 'round," Jareth murmured, almost too softly for Sarah to hear.
Sarah felt a lump of emotion rise in her throat. Although the Goblin King's expression was very aloof and nonchalant, he wasn't looking at her and she suspected that was because he knew she'd see everything in his eyes—especially now that she knew what to look for. His voice certainly sounded wistful.
Unsure of what to say, Sarah reached out and grasped Jareth's hand. His glove was warm and soft. For a moment, she felt his arm tense with surprise, then his fingers wrapped around her hand.
They turned a corner and Sarah stopped. Jareth, still holding her hand, stopped as well. The room they had entered was horrific, and Sarah didn't want to go a step further. It narrowed so that they would have to walk single file, and the walls were clear, like glass. Floating behind those walls was black, oily smoke, except there were faces in that smoke with wide open mouths and they were moaning. The noise filled Sarah's head until she wanted to clamp her hands over her ears and scream to block it out. Such terrible moans, beyond pain and reason! As she watched, fixated by the horrible noise, the faces would sometimes press against the walls. There was never enough definition to them to see any features besides gaping dark pits for eyes and mouth. Sometimes, she saw vague shapes that looked like smoky hands also pressing against the walls, like they wanted to get out.
"What is this place?" Sarah gasped.
"Lost souls. They've had violent, painful deaths and can't rest easily," Jareth said. His expression was bleak, but determined. "They always yearn for company to share their pain. They'll try and pull you in with them, but you must resist."
"We have to walk through there?" Sarah whimpered.
"I'm afraid so, Precious. Just keep holding my hand." Jareth took the first step and then another. She definitely didn't want to let go of his hand, and it made walking into the hallway easier.
But it was as horrible as she imagined. Sarah whimpered pitifully as the moaning increased in volume, to the point that if Jareth had said anything, she wouldn't have heard him. The oily smokey masses reached for her, their half-formed arms coming out from the walls, their eyeless faces and huge gaping mouths yearning. She shied away, jerking back from one set of hands only to feel her body brushed with another set. She cried out, moving closer to Jareth until he wrapped an arm around her shoulder and drew her close, but even then they would reach and tug at her clothes.
Whenever they touched her, she felt a sucking feeling against her skin, like a vacuum cleaner was pressed to her. She batted the hands away and they would disintegrate when she touched them, only to reform a moment later.
They want my life, she thought, hysterically, her body filled with abject terror, petrified with it. She wouldn't have been able to move if it wasn't for Jareth, who continued herding her down the hallway with his gaze firmly fixed on the opposite side. Sarah was barely able to think clearly, and what she could devote to thinking beyond the horror of having grasping hands constantly reaching for her was reminding her that no matter what, she mustn't look back.
And then one of the spirits managed to come out of the wall as a column of dark smoke with vague, human features. In a way, it mimicked the spirits made of light, although this twisted soul had no light, only darkness. It blocked their way and Jareth said, "We must part and go around it."
"Don't let me go, Jareth."
"We can't walk through it, Precious. Just three quick steps and do not look it in the eye." Jareth squeezed her and said, "Be brave."
Brave Sarah, who faced the Goblin King, Sarah thought, lifting her chin and staring at the point just beyond the spirit. She could be brave, she'd always managed to be brave even when she thought she'd collapse from fear.
They parted and moved around the spirit. Sarah slapped at the hands reaching for her. Of course they wouldn't try this with the Goblin King, Sarah thought, bitterly. None of the spirits reached for Jareth and he easily walked around the spirit.
Well, three steps wasn't much. She decided to count them.
One…
A particularly vicious spirit jumped forward from the wall, as if it was trying to slide into home plate. Its cold, oily hand grasped her wrist and she immediately felt that horrible sucking feeling that tugged at her skin—and her heart. Sarah bit back a cry and wrenched her wrist free, while trying to keep from looking at the column of smoke, with its slightly human features, that stood to her left.
Two…
And then she saw movement from the corner of her eye and a leathery, dry voice said, "Saaaaaaraaaaah…"
No spirit had spoken before, and the voice was so inhuman that it caused shudders to run up and down her back. Before Sarah could stop herself, she looked up and met the spirit's eyeless gaze. It stared at her for a moment, and then its smoky face broke apart in a grin, except it had no teeth, just a black pit for a mouth.
It lunged at her, engulfing her in darkness, and she foolishly screamed. Immediately, the smoke filled her lungs. It tasted bitter and she coughed, choking, unable to breathe because the spirit was all around her and inside her lungs, plugging her nose.
Oh god, I'm going to die, Sarah thought, clawing at her neck in desperation. Of course, that was useless; there were no hands to grab, no body to fight against. Her head felt light, like it was trying to detach from her body and float away. Her vision was dark, with darker spots dancing across it. She was losing consciousness.
Suddenly, a pinprick of light broke through the blackness and then flared until it hurt her eyes and she had to raise a hand to block it. The smoke dissipated; she took a shuddering breath, then began to cough as blessed air filled her lungs. Jareth knelt next to her with a glowing crystal in his hand and feral expression on his face.
Sarah shrank away from that horrible expression. Jareth had never looked so…otherworldly. His mismatched eyes glowed with magic, and they seemed tilted more than usual, his eyebrows arching up like wings. His golden hair whipped in an unfelt breeze, streaked with black. He was wearing the black armor outfit now. His thin lips were pulled away from his teeth in a snarl. His features seemed more angular.
Sarah looked away before she could stop herself.
"NO," Jareth warned, but it was too late. In the struggle, Sarah had been turned around. As she looked away—she looked back the dark hallway they had come. It was inhumanly dark, as if someone had hung a shadow in front of them, and in that blackness she saw a shape.
The world rumbled, Sarah felt the vibrations as the ground under her shook, but she was transfixed. The shape in the blackness was coming closer and there was a tiny glint. She squinted, trying to identify what it was, and then she realized: it was Death coming for her and he held a scythe made of flashing blue light.
"Run, Sarah!" Jareth yelled, pulling her to her feet. They began running down the hallway, ignoring the reaching hands now. She heard the sound of beating wings and knew it was Death. Could anyone outrun Death?
The hallway continued to stretch before them. Jareth made a gesture and a crystal appeared in his hand. He threw it before them. There was a flare of light, but when it faded away, nothing had changed.
Jareth cursed, then said, "Keep running. Don't stop!"
Sarah wasn't sure how much longer she could keep this pace up. Already, a hitch had formed in her side. She had done track and field back in high school, but since then besides the required amount of exercise to keep her figure, she hadn't done much in the way of physical activity. She'd always considered herself pretty fit, too.
She stumbled, gasping for breath, but managed to keep her feet and continue. Her breath was whistling through her mouth; her lungs were on fire. Unable to help herself, she glanced over her shoulder and gasped when she saw how close Death was. It still wore the shapeless robes, which now flared out around it like a net, and its hand grasped the flashing scythe. Sarah looked at its veiled face and wanted to cry.
It was so close, and Sarah couldn't help but watch as Death reached out a gloved hand.
Jareth grabbed her, helping her put on a burst of speed, but Sarah glanced back over her shoulder again to see Death reaching for her.
"There!" Jareth said, his voice growling with determination and Sarah saw a pinprick of light at the end of that dark hallway. Could that be the entrance? Were they close to the end of this nightmare? Hope made Sarah push her feet for one more burst of speed. The pinprick grew.
Oh please, please! She thought.
She heard an angry hiss behind her and glanced back once more to see Death even closer. It knew its prey was nearly free. It reached again, but this time instead of reaching for her, it moved towards Sarah and Jareth's clasping hands. Sarah cried out in dismay when she saw that the red string that tied them was trailing a little behind them. It was just close enough to Death for it to hook a finger over the string.
Sarah sobbed, "No!" But, of course, she couldn't stop it. With a vicious yank, Death broke through the thread.
Sarah stumbled, screaming as a pain filled her heart. Jareth gasped, too, and turned to her with the saddest look in his eyes. "Sarah," he said in that way she remembered from thirteen years ago.
She opened her mouth to say something to him just as the pinprick of light flared into a brilliance so bright that it washed over them. She heard the flapping of wings all around her, but she couldn't see anything and finally she had to close her eyes against the brightness. The moment she did, Sarah began to fall. She screamed Jareth's name once, and then blissfully, she fainted.
Author's Note: Jeez this chapter is long. I pounded it out without as much editing as I had hoped, so I am sorry for any mistakes. You may recognize some themes from Greek mythology (and a few others) here, and yeah, they're intentional. I am a huge fan of mythology. :) I realized that in this story a lot of chapters seem to end with Sarah fainting/falling unconscious/etc. Oh well, poor thing, not to worry, there's only one chapter to go. :D
Please review! Let me know what you think. Liked the mirror scene? The hallway of restless spirits? Jareth and Sarah? I know a lot of this chapter was more of a "journey through the mind" for our dear heroine. I spent a whole lot of time re-watching certain scenes from The Labyrinth. I think I watched the ballroom scene five times and realized (or should I say re-realized?) just how much I love that scene in the movie. It might just be my fangirlishness for J/S, but I really think at times their expressions as they avoid each other say so much (particularly Jareth's). Made me squee all over again. XD
I will try to get the last chapter up as quickly as possible. Chances are good it will be this week. Hey, I managed to avoid work and pump out this one within a few days. XD
Bah, I nearly forgot...some quick shout-outs:
Pinkflora: lol, Death is tricksy and I think its REAL test was whether Sarah could get out of its domain. Everything else was just gravy.
Simply01, CatherineSobieski, TheraSerenity, hazlgrnLizzy: Thank you for the wonderful compliments!
tomoe-gozen52: Yes, what you say is very true. I do try to follow where the story leads, instead of vice versa. Writing fanfiction is a wonderful exercise in working on my own issues of style, characterization, etc. And I like a Jareth who would rather be smug than vindictive. ;)
To all of you that said you like my characterization of Jareth, thank you very much. What can I say? I think he's as his peak when he's acting like he did in the ballroom scene: smug, triumphant, with that oh-you-want-me swagger. Hopefully, if all works according to plan, there will be quite a bit of that in the next chapter. XD
Disclaimer: As always, I don't own anything in regards to the Labyrinth. This is just a not-for-profit bit of fun fanfiction. My only claim is to original characters created by me. Please don't take/repost/copy this fanfiction without my permission beforehand. Thank you.