Sarah was in half a daze when she first awoke. She had a dreamless night, but now she wasn't sure if she was dreaming or not. She felt the sensation of movement, but the last thing she remembered was laying down as the morning sun kissed the sky. She still felt groggy, and something told her she only had an hour's worth of sleep.
She began to hear the noise of rustling, rocks against rocks, and small birds chirping. She sat up finding herself in the back of a truck shaped carriage. Someone was in the front whipping a group of large, chained up butterflies. Their wings flapped moving the wood contraption through a gravel way.
Sarah found the sun hadn't moved much since the last time she had seen it. She scanned the area around her. It looked as though she was out of labyrinth. She let a breath of relief escape her lips. She knew it was only a matter of time before Jareth would come after her, but first he would have to search the labyrinth. That would take a while. She assumed it was better to be moving than to be stationary, so she stayed with the man—or creature, she couldn't tell—steering the butterflies. She laid her head back down and went to sleep.
She opened her eyes a little bit later. The cart had stopped and it seemed darker outside. Her eyes scanned the sky, yes, the sun was setting. She moved slowly looking for the driver of her taxi. Her head popped over the edge of her small basket. There he was, in conversation with someone—but it wasn't a goblin. The figure was hooded, but Sarah could tell she was female. The woman was standing in an undersized archway, a door closed against her back. The building she was standing near was also small, almost as if it were trying not to be noticed.
Sarah looked around at the rest of buildings made of gray stones. It was the only color that existed in this area. Gray, black, a touch of white. She felt like she had woken up in a black and white movie.
After surveying her present whereabouts she deemed she had been driven to some underground city on the far outskirts of the labyrinth. There was bustling everywhere, goblins running this way and that. Creatures Sarah had never seen skipped with baskets and waddled with shoes too big.
Sarah tried to decide whether or not to thank her transporter, but he may demand payment, which she didn't have. Then there was the issue of the hooded woman. Sarah had learned from many movies and books to never trust someone you couldn't see. The woman might have been an exception to the rule, but Sarah wasn't in a gambling mood.
Carefully, she snuck out of her bed and dove into an alley-way. She didn't look back as she ran over garbage, dodged some passing beasts and made it to a left turn. She kept running, then turned right.
When she finally made it to a busy area, did she take a breath. She coward in a group of people—er, things—staking out a medium fat goblin selling an assortment of items. Sarah saw a nice cloak which she thought would help to shield her peasant appearance.
"What will you take for the hooded piece?" She tried to deepen her throat to seem tough; however, she was afraid she wouldn't be heard over the incessant squabbling of the other shoppers.
The Goblin looked at her with one eye, for the other was covered in an eye-patch. His hair was long and draped with beads. Gold lined the eyelashes of his one eye so it seemed to glitter. When he smiled at her his teeth were black. "Whatcha got?"
Sarah thought painfully about the bag of snuff in her possession. She reached for it grabbing the attention of those around her. She took a small handful out for herself and handed the rest of the bag to dwarf.
He gladly took it from her shoving his nose in the bag. He looked to her with an up-turned cheek. "Go ahead. Take the cloak and anything else yee want."
Sarah was surprised, but didn't argue. She took the cloak then looked at the rest of the items on his table. It was all basically junk. There was a broken watch, a plastic ring, a dirty book, a necklace, and a mask. The mask caught Sarah's eye because it reminded her of her a ball she attended long ago—a masquerade. However she didn't have a mask when she went and now, she found that quite unfair.
She reached for the black, shiny item. The sides flared out like butterfly wings against her face. Intricate sliver swirls reached from the eyes and into the wings. It was lovely. She held it to her face without really thinking.
"Itz lovely, Miss." The seller said.
She smiled politely and excused herself. The fabric fell on her shoulders warmly. She pulled the hood over her head and was happy to find a pocket large enough for the mask, but she wasn't sure what to do with her weed. She had a lighter, but no rolls or anything to smoke it out of.
She frowned. God, Jareth was such a hypocrite. He spilled her stash, called her weak, and him or his subjects did the same thing she did.
She began stalking angrily around the city. She had no set destination so she found an another alley. She would find a way to get high, then start asking questions about a way to get back home, to the Aboveground.
She settled near a trashcan-like apparatus. She did feel quite dismal searching through the waste, but her hopes were hyped up when she found a container. She designed it in her perfect fashion then put her lighter to green.
She sat there for a few seconds feeling guilty. And there it was burning away. She let it burn until there was only one huff left. It was enough to say good bye.
So, she breathed in. It was wonderful. It was fantastic. It was so peaceful. Then, she lost consciousness.
When next she opened her eyes, it hurt. Her stomach had decided it was moving, didn't like it in her body apparently. New residence? Out her mouth. Her chest was doing things with her lungs she didn't think should allowed by the Geneva Convention. Then there was her head. After expelling what seemed to be crawling bugs from her intestines, Sarah folded her body around her head. She wanted to pull her hair out to stop the fire that was burning, but electric stung her fingertips making her palms blue. She could feel her eyes getting hot, and then her vision was clouded red. She tried to wipe her tears away, but blood was smeared on her fingers. She screamed at the scene. The pain was too much and her head to heavy.
Her eyes were going in out and out like a camera. Her ears pulsed making sounds echo-ish and far away. Her breath was slow and forced. Wetness still fell from the corners of her eyes, but she refused to wipe it. She rejected the idea of her eyes bleeding.
By now she was laying on he ground unable to move. She must have looked dead. Her eyes were unblinking, unmoving. Her body was still, her breathing almost none. She was paralyzed within the pain.
From somewhere in the back of her mind she saw the boots slowly approach her. They were heavy in the rain which had begun to fall. The boots splashed in a puddle that had begun to engulf Sarah's hair. She was sure whoever stood before her said something, but the rain and her pounding head made sure she didn't understand.
The figure picked her up and slung her over a shoulder, but Sarah didn't feel it. She was out before she landed.
She sat up fast, ignoring the instant sting all over. Jareth sat across the room watching her in one of those overstuffed chairs. Ah, she was back in the guest room.
She moved to the edge of the bed wordlessly, tossing the white curtain from her face. She moved a hand to her head.
"I'm quite bored with saving your life, Sarah." Jareth tightened the glove on his hand.
"Well, I don't believe anybody asked you to." She noticed her new article of clothing had been removed. She stepped off the bed, but fell to her knees. "Dammit" She hated looking so weak in front of her enemy.
The thought struck her despite her situation. She looked at the man—well, she wasn't sure if that was all right, but that bulge in his pants had given her reason to think he had male parts—now towering before her. Was he her enemy? Even now after all this time. He did keep saving her life, what did he think of her?
"I very much want to kick you right now." His eyes were malicious, dark.
She griped her side as a new soreness spread through her and fell on all fours. "Go ahead." She challenged. Her voice was rough. "Give it your all."
They were both silent. Sarah tried to hide the pain from her face while she gaped into Jareth's eyes. She could see what looked to be an inner struggle within him.
Soon, he was grabbing her arm and hoisting her onto the bed. "Just. Stay." His teeth were clenched.
"What was it?" She let go of her emotions for a minute to satisfy a little cat with curiosity.
Jareth watched her for a very long second. "A type of spice. Very expensive. It will smell and taste like whatever you expect of it." He paused to let those words sink in. "And it can kill humans. Lucky for you, you only took a small dose."
"Lucky." She echoed without emotion.
Jareth stared at her. "I was going to let you go." He spat. "I was going to let you find your way back home if you wanted it so bad, if you thought this place was so terrible." He forced a laugh. "I had set you free. Then, you almost kill yourself."
They watched each other, invisible static flying through the room until Jareth finally spoke. "Maybe next time." Though he didn't like the idea of next time. He made his way to the door out of habit. He could just simply vanish out of the room, but he wasn't thinking clearly.
"Why Jareth?" Sarah was angry and frustrated. "Why do you care so much. Why didn't you just let me die?"
His hand laid on the door handle. His eyes resting on his hand. He didn't know the answer to her question—at least he didn't understand the answer. "Tell me, Sarah, why do you want to lower yourself to the biddings of such a device?" He flicked his eyes towards her.
"To Escape." Her fingers were shaking. "How can you expect me to live in this world, in your torturous mind games? I had to escape it."
Jareth gave her a disgusted glance. "Oh, Sarah. We both know what a terrible excuse you just wove."
"Excuse?" She sputtered. "You don't think I've been going crazy missing my family and my friends, living in that cell of yours, watching those ruthless children, eating what I'm sure is poison, and putting up with your arrogant attitude." When she finished she took a deep breath and swallowed. She could feel a tug from somewhere, all over.
He gave a feeble laugh. "To Escape? Does it help you escape home, hmm? Then tell me, Precious Thing, what were you escaping from Aboveground? Where did you escape to?"
Here. She thought, but didn't say. She would never tell him she had longed to return to the labyrinth, felt a longing deep within her soul. No, Jareth could never know that. He wouldn't allow her to go home, or worse, he would gloat about the whole thing. And no matter what state of mind she was in, Sarah didn't think she could ever get used to the idea of Jareth being right.
"Why do you care?" She asked again glaring into those cold, different eyes. "It is of no consequence to you."
Jareth watched her body slowly weave left and right. Any minute she was going. Sarah waited in anticipation. Her hands clenched the sheets. She could feel darkness pulling her again.
"Jareth."
As she lost grip on reality he corrected her. "It's your highness."