Chapter Seventeen: The First Puzzle Piece, part one.
In schoolrooms across the world, young children played with rubber bands. It was strangely inevitable, as though their young minds could not resist the simple tease it presented. What many of them did not know was that rubber bands were phenomenal examples of what was about to happen to the Above and Underground.
A rubber band was stretched tight, quivering with potential energy and then, with a snap, that energy was released, sending ripples through the fabric of the band.
With the space between the worlds shrinking, the Underground began to tremble, its magic stretched taut.
Sarah and her strange group of escorts made it to Linda's room just in time to see Leshia quietly close the door. The petite woman approached them, her head bowed just enough that her hunter-colored hair hid her expression. A sage green hand brushed over Toby's head, but when she spoke it was directed to the Twins. "Why don't you two show Toby the stables?" Her voice, usually so soft and gentle, had a curious edge to it. "I think Sarah and I are going to take a walk."
"I really wanted to talk to my mother," Sarah stepped forward.
Leshia shook her head, already linking their arms. "Give her some time to rest, my dear. I fear she needs it." And with that, Leshia drew her, gently but surely, out of the castle, until they were in the fresh air, wandering some of the innermost reaches of the Labyrinth.
The silence ate at Sarah. She liked the other woman a lot, but the moment her mortal family had set foot in the Underground, she had felt as though Jareth's family had been trying to keep them apart. "Is there any reason I'm being steered away from my mother?" she asked in a controlled tone.
Leshia looked to the younger woman, her hunter hair parting enough to reveal the sharp look in her blue eyes. She had always appeared calm, comforting, and just the slightest bit mischievous, but Sarah had long suspected that a dangerous nature laid beneath her unruffled surface; how else was she to contend with her children? There was a strange feral quality, an incongruent predatory light burning deep in her eyes, and it was unsettling.
After an uncomfortable moment, Leshia looked away. "Tell me of your mother," she commanded levelly.
Sarah sighed, her eyes darting to take in the scenery around her. "She was a good woman once; at least," she faltered, "I think she was good." She stared blankly, her eyes gazing sightlessly at the high walls that stretched around them, vine-covered and sprinkled with strange flowers, as she thought of mother. "You never really know what to think about a person sometimes," she offered after a moment. "When I was little, I remember my mother playing games with me, reading me stories, coddling me—but later, when I was older, she was distant, cold, and completely selfish. Sometimes, I can see a flash of the warm woman I remember, but with every year that goes by it happens less and less."
"It bewilders you?" Leshia asked, steering them toward an ornamental pavilion.
"I don't know what to make of her anymore," Sarah admitted. "I don't know if she was jaded and changed by the world, or if she was always so aloof and just pretended to be a good mother. I can't figure out if she loved me, or if I was just an interesting toy to her." She kicked at the gravel underfoot. "You know, Karen and I fight a lot, but at least we have some kind of relationship; the older I get, the more I feel like my mother is a complete stranger to me."
"The people who are closest in our lives often have the power to hurt us the most," the older woman said after a moment. "I know you haven't had a very stable female influence in your life, but chasing after her approval isn't going to help matters; it will only give her more power to upset you." She drew them to a stop, bringing the younger woman to face her. "Now, I'm not suggesting that you cut your mother out of your life—that would be unreasonable—but I will give you this much advice: some bridges aren't worth mending."
Sarah stared into the blue eyes of the other woman, confusion furrowing her brow. "How can you afford to say that, given the mess that your son left behind?"
"Ah," Leshia patted the younger woman on the should, "you see, there's one key difference between my Jareth and your mother: Jareth wants to change. Until Linda is ready to make some sacrifices, all of your efforts will be in vain."
"I don't even know where to focus anymore," the dark-haired woman admitted with a shake of her head. "Jareth needs my help, I know that and I do want to help him, but now my family is Underground and they're going to need help adjusting. How do I balance that out without overwhelming myself?"
Leshia turned them back toward the pavilion. "Don't let the world bury you," she answered seriously. "That was always Jareth's mistake. Don't get me wrong, it's wonderful that you have such a strong sense of duty to those around you, but you don't want to take on more than you can truly handle." She patted the younger woman's shoulder again. "Now, to put this in perspective for you: most of us are adults, and we can take care of ourselves, but Jareth is the only one depending on you." She shrugged. "I don't want to pressure you, dear, but you're the only person he's responded to in a good many years. After what feels like a small eternity, we have hope, and I'd ask that you not jeopardize that."
"I understand that," Sarah stressed, "believe me, I do—but they're my family, I can't turn my back on them." Less than a day in the Underground, and she already felt all her old fears and strains returning. It was so hard to trust anyone when she had been consistently betrayed; Jareth in particular was hard to trust because he was always so unpredictable. And yet, beneath her mistrust and her worries, she still wanted to mend things as best she could. But at what cost? She herself was already damned, but her family had no idea what living Underground could do to a mortal. Would they end up trapped, just as she was? It was a heavy price to pay, just for one man.
They reached the pavilion, but Leshia hovered uncertainly at the threshold. "I'm not asking that you do. By all means, help them when they need it, but don't become their crutch. There are any number of people who are both willing and able to help your family through this time—and you're more than welcome to be a part of that process, but don't let them become dependent on you." She watched from the walkway as Sarah entered the pavilion, but stayed where she was, a longing look in her eye. "It wouldn't be fair to anyone involved. That's more stress than you need in your life, and what would they do if they ever couldn't reach you? They need to be able to survive on their own."
"Things are just changing so fast," Sarah sighed, sitting wearily on a marble bench. "It's hard not to cling to what's familiar."
The older woman smiled softly. "That's understandable, and I think we're all suffering from that same sentiment, but don't let that stop you." Her smile deepened. "I heard that, once upon a time, you were quite the stubborn and fearless young lady." She turned, and began to walk away, leaving the younger woman alone. "Where has all that courage and determination gone?"
Sarah watched her go. Had Leshia just challenged her? In the midst of everything that was happening, had the serene woman just tried to draw parallels between her run of the Labyrinth and the insanity that was going on around them now? She almost had to laugh at that; perhaps mother and son weren't so different after all. Jareth had always known how to egg her on, had known how to play her stubbornness and lust for success to his advantage. And, sadly, it always worked. She couldn't stand to lose. In a matter of moments, what had been a miserable challenge was suddenly a puzzle to be solved. Before that moment she had always let emotion cloud her judgment, and emotion was certainly still a factor, but cool intellect dominated her thoughts.
She had a problem; she needed a solution. Laim had suggested, earlier that day, that Jareth always gave people what they needed to solve one of his puzzles—so she had all the pieces, she just needed to figure out what order they went in. There was no time to get sentimental or to let her rocky history with the Goblin King get in her way.
Which was much easier said than done.
He floated placidly through the shattered remains of himself, idly wondering if there was a pattern there among the fragments. Guilt still ate away at him, pushed him further and further down, but with the advent of Sarah he no longer felt quite so defeated.
The coming days would be trying beyond compare, though; things were bound to go wrong with two such different families butting heads in the same castle. But then, that was merely the way of things: every time it looked as though events were becoming manageable, something happened to make them complicated once more.
He understood, on some level, why all the players had been called up, but he couldn't help but feel that the timing could have been better. Sarah was already overwhelmed, and he himself was dangerously overtaxed; what were the two of them supposed to achieve when they were both nearing the end of their ropes?
Still, better to be overburdened and together, than damaged and apart.
Sarah sat quietly, idly taking in the lush garden that surrounded the pavilion as she thought over what to do next. She would have to talk to her mother eventually, but now that her mind was fixated on solving the puzzle Jareth posed, she found herself preoccupied.
Something rustled through the bushes behind her, drawing her attention. Curiosity nibbled at her—being Underground meant that she could come face to face with some of the most fantastical creatures—but it was merely a bird. A plain little sparrow hovered around the bush, looking for something to eat, then took to the sky when it found nothing. A strange feeling stole over Sarah as she watched it soar out of sight; no matter how different the Above and Under were, they still had some things in common. Even Underground they had sparrows, amidst all the goblins and monsters and spiraling towers.
Wait a minute, she thought, frowning. Spiraling towers? Since when had the Labyrinth had any of those? Granted, she'd never seen all of the giant maze, but she'd seen enough of it to know that those towers hadn't been there before. The walls seemed higher too, and more jagged; it was as if someone had brushed over and fortified the ancient trap with pure aggression. Was the Labyrinth growing? That thought had never crossed her mind before; she'd known that its pathways changed, of course, but she'd never considered the possibility that it was constantly growing and changing, making itself more challenging as time went by. It was an intimidating idea, a threat that was only diminished by the knowledge that she wouldn't have to traverse the Labyrinth.
"It's astounding, isn't it?" a voice whispered from behind her. It was a voice she was painfully familiar with, a voice that she had both longed for and dreaded from the first moment she had heard its rich murmur. A decade ago, that very same voice had whispered bargains into her ear, tantalizing dreams that she had wanted to grasp onto. It was the voice of decadence and sin, of pleasure and danger. It was the voice of a scheming Goblin King.
Cautious but curious, Sarah turned around. The sight that greeted her wasn't particularly surprising—Jareth had already appeared as the Goblin King from her memories earlier that day. Her lack of surprise didn't diminish his impact, though. Standing to his full and impressive height was a man laced with power—magic danced around his lean, black-clad muscles, a threat to all who displeased him. His silvery-blond hair danced wildly about his face, hiding eyes she knew were as blue and as sharp as an icy mountain lake. For a brief second, she felt as though she were a teenager again, facing off against a man she knew could outsmart and outmaneuver her a thousand times over. No matter how many times they crossed paths, the Goblin King never failed to stir a tendril of fear within her.
"It's curious," she answered carefully. "I don't remember it being quite so menacing before."
He smiled sharply, his blue eyes peeking out from his flyaway hair. "It was," he sat down beside her, close enough to threaten and entice, "and yet it wasn't."
"It's impossible for you to give a straight answer, isn't it?" she rolled her eyes.
His smile softened, becoming more playful than predatory. "Danger has always lurked within the Labyrinth," he reached out to smooth an inky tendril behind her ear, "so it doesn't particularly matter what shape the trap chooses to take." His hand strayed, caressing the length of her jaw. "But," he whispered, his eyes fixed to where they touched, "some designs are deadly for entirely different reasons."
She shivered, both from his touch and his tone. "What are you saying?"
His gaze sharpened. "Tell me, Sarah, are you any good at puzzles?"
The words were haunting, and she had heard Jareth speak them mere hours ago. But what did he mean by it? It wasn't good enough to point out she was facing a puzzle—she already knew that. What she needed to know was what kind of puzzle it was. "I need more help than that, Jareth. You can't expect me to just suddenly know what to do."
The hand stroking her jaw turned her gaze back to the Labyrinth. "What's different out there," he whispered into her ear, "is different in here, too," his free hand grasped hers, placing it over his heart. "They didn't happen at the same time, they aren't a direct result of one another, but they are connected."
She let his words guide her, let his touches ground her thoughts. She had known that his very essence was irrevocably tangled with the Labyrinth, but now it seemed as though they were connected on an even deeper level. If she was understanding him correctly, then the cure to his madness laid out there somewhere, among the twisting walkways and hidden horrors. She had taken comfort, not moments ago, in the thought that she wouldn't have to brave the Labyrinth, now it seemed as though she didn't have a choice, and it was terrifying, but…
She had a purpose, and a place to start; she'd been issued a challenge, and now she had some idea of how she might be able to fulfill it.
A/N: IT LIVES! That's right ladies and gents, Listen For Thunder is back. I know that wasn't a particularly long or eventful chapter, but it was better that than nothing, right?
I am constantly taking liberties with Jareth's height. I know David Bowie is not a particularly tall man, but I've always pictured Jareth as at least a head taller than Sarah.
For those of you who don't read The Never Series, I owe you an explanation. I've been having a lot of problems in my personal life for a while, swinging between periods of massive creativity and complete apathy (which explains why I write like a maniac and then disappear for months on end). Some friends helped me work up the nerve to seek help for this, and I've been tentatively diagnosed with Bipolar II. It's a messy process—figuring out what's wrong and what can be done—and it's leaving my life in a constant state of change, which is extremely unbalancing. Writing has always been a stabilizing influence for me, so I'm back once more (with Labyrinth this time!), but I can't promise you guys anything.
Thank you everyone for all your great reviews! It blows my mind that Listen For Thunder has over 500 reviews, and that Dramatic Orchestrations has over 1,000!
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Disclaimer: I don't own anything recognizable as having come from the movie Labyrinth, and I'm certainly not making money off of it.