DISCLAIMER - I don't own Sarah or Jareth or the Labyrinth (unfortunately) they belong to Jim Henson & Co, and I'm definitely not making a profit from this.
All other NPC's are a figment of my own imagination.
"Majesty. I must talk to you." When he didn't respond she spoke again. "Please Jareth." Anyetta said as she stood before his desk in the darkness of his study. In the corner a solitary candle flickered and hissed in the breeze coming through the open window which shifted and clacked against its catch. He sat in silence, brooding, staring at the unopened letter laying on the desk before him.
"You seem to hold all the answers to all the secrets Anyetta, and yet I can not fathom why you will not tell me what I want to know. Your lack of loyalty disturbs me." He said finally, looking up and scowling at her.
"I am loyal, and I am hurt that you do not think that I am. I can't change how or where I was born just as much you can't either, we are who we are for good reason." She frowned right back at him as he hissed dismissively.
"Have you been to see her? Did you see what had happened, what he did to her?"
"Why would I bother doing that?" He spat shifting uneasily in his chair.
"She is just like any other, for better or worse. I do not personally oversee each individual subject of this realm and I have spent far too long regretting what happened to give more of my time or attention to an ungrateful, spiteful child who plays false with other mens hearts."
"Oh Jareth, shes not at all. Please I beg you, speak to her. Read the letter, I'm sure you must have explained everything in it."
"I will do no such thing. This letter, this fabrication. Tell me why I would have done such a ridiculous thing?"
"If you read it you'd know. Its not a fabrication, nobody can forge your writing. Nobody but you can seal a letter with your crest." Anyetta sighed in exasperation.
"You're being stubborn for no good reason. The answers you need are right there in front of you." She said putting her hands on her hips. He rose in a single fluid motion and made his way around the desk to her making her flinch as he grasped her arm and pulled her with him to the window.
"Look Anyetta. Look at what she did to my world. Do you see? The death and destruction caused by her hand. The day I forgive this is the day I die."
"You aren't looking in the right direction Jareth. Come, let me show you what you have not seen." She took her arm out of his hand and put her own hand back in his.
"Humor me for a moment of your time." She said as he resisted her.
Muttering he allowed her to lead him out of his study up a winding corridor into another tower. Not in the direction of where Jareth had expected her to take him but higher into the castle, eventually coming to stop outside a long disused room. Entering she brushed away cobwebs hanging from the drapes and drew them aside, opening the doors to the small balcony, revealing once more the vast expanse of the Labyrinth from the opposite side of the castle. Below them in another tower somewhere, Sarah slept, but it was not her that Anyetta drew his attention to, it was the walled garden below.
"A month ago you could not have taken more than 20 steps before reaching the other side. Now it would take you an afternoon to walk all the pathways. Listen. Can you not hear them?" She went silent and cocked her head slightly, staring at him until he sighed and concentrated on the night breezes. It was a slow revelation, a hint of sound here, a chirrup there, and a sense of overwhelming life, growing. Insects and small creatures stirring amongst the plants, and suddenly, a Nightingales call to its mate.
Abruptly one of the moons broke through the swirling clouds and bathed the garden in a milky glow which in turn made the roses that now grew in the borders, up the walls and over the central arbour glow blue white. It stirred something in his mind that made him look east towards the horizon and a small group of ruins which also glowed with the same light.
"You should not have allowed this." He whispered eventually.
"Why not? Perhaps what she once helped destroy she can now remake. She seems to be making an excellent start, and she doesn't even realise shes doing it. Imagine how much more effective it would be if you for once forgave her, and yourself." Anyetta bit her lip, knowing she had probably gone too far with her last statement.
"She was just a child Jareth..." The clouds swallowed the moon again and returned them to the murky darkness. "Come, there is more."
Anyetta lead him back through the castle, ignoring his repeated sighs and muttered curses until they arrived outside of a grand set of deeply carved and decorated doors. Swinging them both wide open, and flicking her hand into the darkness she magically lit all of the sconce's on the walls, casting a golden glow across the vast room.
"If you wanted me to be impressed by your display of magic in the Long Gallery you are sadly mistaken. My relatives hardly need illuminating." Jareth said snarkily clapping his hands.
"You could at least show a little patience." She replied walking into the room, ignoring the ancient portraits that stared down their noses at the intruders. The Long Gallery was aptly named, not only filled with a vast array of exquisite artwork and antique furniture but also with an impressive array of marble statues and sculptures along its center aisle. It was to a group of these that Anyetta lead Jareth tutting as he ignored her request for help to uncover them from their shroud of white dust sheets.
They both stood and stared. Eventually Anyetta smiled in grim satisfaction.
The look on Jareths face was one of truly mixed emotion. Anger warring with shock and disbelief, giving way to grudging admiration and appreciation. Almost involuntarily he stepped forward touching a gloved finger to the intricately carved facial features of the statue closest to him. He said nothing, examining carefully all 3 sculptures one after the other, stepping back to admire them from afar before walking back up close to touch details.
"There are paintings too." Anyetta said eventually.
"She did these?" He replied in shock.
"No. They are by a young student she featured in her gallery, he made her his muse, for obvious reasons. The paintings are hers."
"Show me."
She walked off again further on down the Long Gallery to a section of wall that had clearly had other paintings hung there at some point in the past leaving bright patches on the wallpaper by the new paintings. They seemed, like the sculptures, to be in the perfect place, and yet out of place all at the same time. Beneath the paintings of himself and his labyrinth lost in a timeless golden summer stood an old chest, on top of which lay a sketchbook. He reached down and picked it up to leaf through its pages, filled to the brim with little creatures and goblins doing silly things, and there, on the last page to be used was a study of himself, sitting at ease on what looked to be a modern sofa, something he knew did not exist in his own castle and a drawing of one of the wild flowers that used to grow in the castle gardens in abundance. It perplexed him and angered him in equal measure.
He felt betrayed by his own self. He slammed the sketchbook closed and threw it back onto the top of the chest, walking off to brood, finding himself standing once more in front of the sculptures.
He hated unknowing. He hated how the beautiful woman made from stone seemed to mock him with her wistful gaze. He felt the fury building inside him until in a blind rage he struck out at the closest sculpture with his magic damaging the delicate carving making two deep scratches appear across her face. He was only roused from his anger when Anyetta knocked him away from the sculpture breaking his concentration and making him realise he was hearing somebody scream in pain somewhere in the distance.
"You're a fool." Anyetta shouted at him as she ran towards the screams.
She barged through the door of Sarahs room to find her curled in a ball on the floor, her hands covered in blood as she held her face, sobbing.
"Why?" She begged Anyetta as the fey knelt next to her and held her tightly, soothing her and slowly taking away the pain of the deep scratches across Sarahs pale cheek. Summoning cloths and a bowl of water to her Anyetta carefully washed the blood away, urging the scratches to heal and stop bleeding. She could do no more than that, like the scar on Sarah's hand these scratches were made by magic other than her own, and she could do nothing to remove them. She cursed Jareth silently as Sarah wept in her arms. Eventually exhaustion took over and with Anyetta's help she changed out of her blood covered top into a clean one and crawled back into bed to try and sleep.
Dawn found Jareth pacing the Long Gallery, his mind racing with a million possibilities, scattered and in a white cold rage. That he had lost control in such a way frightened him. When his control was the very thing that kept order in his world, he couldn't even begin to contemplate what that might mean. Chaos would only be the beginning. He knew he should read the damn letter, knew he should speak to her, but how could he do either after last night. The darkest part of him said it wasn't enough, demanded more, her death or imprisonment for what had happened to the Labyrinth, for his humiliation. She was only human. There had been countless others, and one day, there would be countless more. It was just his nature, the nature of the Labyrinth. It consumed, was all consuming. He stopped pacing as Anyetta stood in front of him.
"All of the years I have served you. All of the years I have watched as I have supposed to do, guided you as I have been commanded to do. Been your friend as you have asked me to be. I have never known you to be so cruel, and I am ashamed of you." She said quietly before reaching up and slapping his face. He stood there in shock staring at her noticing the tears falling down her face and how they glistened like diamonds. She sighed and then shaking her head turned and left him alone.
Sarah ate brunch slowly, trying to digest what had happened during the night. She had woken some time earlier and had reluctantly gone to see what she now looked like in the bathroom. She had never been vain about her appearance, but she knew she was lucky to have dark hair and pale skin. Her self-consciousness and awkwardness had always stopped her using her looks to get what she wanted like some of the girls she had grown up with in school and college.
Yet she had been so devastated to see the thick red scars across her cheek that she had thrown her hair brush at the tall mirror, shattering it into pieces. Without even needing to touch them she knew they were there, they ached as a counterpoint to the scar on her hand, the tendrils of red from its depths now reaching up around her shoulder to her neck and chest where they seemed to pool above her heart. She vowed not to look at herself again in any mirror, it only upset her.
Accompanying her brunch was a letter from Anyetta informing her that "he" had left the castle and would most likely not be back for some time, and that Anyetta would also be away for a few days. At the bottom of the letter was sketched a rough map to a new location in the castle and a warning not to try and enter any room where the door was locked if she went exploring. The implication being that because Jareth was no longer there it was safe for her to do so.
Finishing the cup of tea Sarah dressed and taking the letter proceeded out of her room. She was in no rush unlike the last time she had been taken though the castle so she took her time, wishing for the billionth time that she had paper and pencils so she could take notes and do some sketching of things and objects that caught her eye as she meandered her way through the castle. The promise the castle had given from her view of it in the garden was surpassed as she explored inside. Corridors that went nowhere, many locked doors with tantalizing glances through large keyholes, windows that showed her views of the Labyrinth and other parts of the castle that were practically impossible. Ceilings that disobeyed the rooms dimensions, soaring into the distance, and others that crowded above her head making her feel claustrophobic.
Rooms which were open were mostly bedrooms and sitting rooms, dusty and neglected. In one beautifully appointed room with ornate furniture, a massive four poster bed dominated the space, its drapes hanging as tattered remnants. Across the faded bedspread lay a ballgown laid out as if only waiting for its owner to take it and dress for an evenings entertainment. Sarah stopped and touched a delicate fold of the dress and watched as the fabric disintegrated in her fingers. Sadly she backed away from the bed and left the room not wanting to cause any more damage.
Mockingly in almost everywhere there was one or more mirror hanging on the wall and though they were tarnished with age they threw back her distorted reflection in the dim light catching her eye constantly making her frown. She left the upper floors heading down a grand staircase towards the throne room. It stood, unchanged since she had last been there only missing the strange fog and the chittering shapes in the darkness.
She mentally noted that she had seen no goblins or servants or any other inhabitant of the castle, perhaps they were just used to hiding from him and did the same to her.
Beyond the throne room lay a grand ballroom, nothing like the one from her dream so long ago and noting that the entire walls were covered in gilt and mirrors she backed away from the door in reluctance. She returned to what seemed to be the main hallway in the central segment of the layout and passed back by the grand stairs she had descended at, walking in the opposite direction from the throne room.
Here she encountered more neglected sitting rooms and locked doors with a pervading sad gloom that was quite depressing. Her inner cleaning compulsive twitched, wanting to find cloths and cleaning things to wipe away the grime of disuse and years worth of dust, to make it all as beautiful as it once must have been.
At the end of the long hallway she encountered a set of ornate doors, expecting them to be locked she only half heartedly tried the latch, making herself jump as they both swung inward silently. She had what she could only describe later as a "Beauty and the Beast" moment. This library was nothing like what Disney had created for the Beast to proudly share with Belle, this library was pitch black for a start and the overwhelming smell of ancient books hit her senses like a solid wall.
As soon as she stepped beyond the threshold of the doors the lamps around her lit just as they did in her bathroom. She knew without hesitation that this library was not the place where librarians prayed to the gods of paper and writing. This was the kind of library that made librarians flee in terror sobbing and wailing.
There seemed to be no order to the shelves, and less in the waist high piles of books that sat in every corner and partially blocked the aisles. Some books were chained, others lay open displaying pages of text that she could not even hope to translate or decipher. Clearly somebody used this library regularly, and from the tracks left on the dusty floor it could only be Jareth himself, his cloak leaving irregular lines next to his footprints.
It made her feel uneasy for the first time as she ventured further into the huge room. So uneasy that she stopped as she saw a half empty glass and empty bottle of wine next to a pair of reading glasses and a book marked with a strip of leather on a table next to a comfortable chair. Her inner child giggled at the thought of the Goblin King needing reading glasses, she wanted to touch them to familiarise herself with something that belonged to him, but she resisted.
She turned and left the library, closing the doors firmly behind her and sighing in relief. Retracing her footsteps she fished the letter out of the pocket of her summer dress and set about trying to navigate her way back to the location it directed her to.