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Sarah had seen many creatures in the Labyrinth, but never anything as frightening and yet magnificent as the dragon before her. It was as big as an elephant, but looked so graceful and fast that it was really an insult to compare it to a clumsy beast like that. Even in the dim light, the scales glittered in black and silver on its long sleek body and bat-like wings, and the long spiked tail was curled elegantly around it, the tip of it twitching slightly. She held her breath, but the dragon didn't move to attack, it simply glared in the direction her tree was in for a moment and then returned its attention to the bundle on the ground before it.
A woman lay there, almost motionless, with half her body emerged in the slimy swamp water. She was in her fifties, maybe early sixties, with greyish bobbed hair and a cheap dress, which might once have had a nice floral pattern, but was now caked in mud and in disarray. She was staring at the dragon in despair, darting looks behind her as to see if she could escape, but there was only more swamp water there. It must be the quester, Sarah realized – the woman responsible for the state of the infant sleeping soundly in her room back at the castle. If an owl could frown, Sarah's silver-grey owl would have scowled heavily, but there was also a twinge of regret in her heart – no matter what the woman had done, no one deserved to be eaten by a dragon. She looked around to see if Jareth was anywhere nearby – if the quester was here, surely he must be, too, but she couldn't see him.
The dragon opened its mouth and breathed a stream of fire at the trees next to the woman, and she screamed again and stumbled further backwards into the swamp, losing her footing and going under for a moment. When she appeared again, dripping in swamp water, she held out her hands in a pleading gesture.
"Please, don't hurt me," she wailed and sounded much younger and pitiful than Sarah expected. "Please, I didn't mean it, I'm sorry. Please let me go."
The dragon growled and took another menacing step towards her, and its next breath of fire came even closer to her, although it was clear to Sarah that it was deliberately not hitting the woman full on. The woman whimpered again, but stayed upright this time.
"You can have the child," she said pleadingly, "…only, please don't hurt him. I know I didn't care for him the way I should, but he is a good little baby, so please take good care of him."
The dragon hesitated and the woman apparently took this as a good sign and fell to her knees.
"Please, just don't hurt little Joshua, I'm sorry I ever did, but please…" She broke down and sobbed uncontrollably, and suddenly the dragon snorted and took a step back, and a familiar crystal ball floated in the air before it and moved slowly towards the woman. She looked at it with recognition in her tear-streaked face, and then stumbled towards it to catch it, even daring to get closer to the dragon to do it, and a second later her fingers touched it, and she and the crystal disappeared in a flash of light.
The dragon stood perfectly still for a moment with only its tail twitching slightly, but then it growled in frustration and sent a breath of fire directly at the place where the woman had been. It turned a bit and breathed again, and suddenly Sarah found flames flickering underneath the tree she was hiding in. It was an old dry fir tree, and in moments, the flames had reached the lower branches and smoke billow up towards her. She flattened herself against the trunk and looked frantically around for a good way to fly out. She really didn't want to go out of hiding with the angry dragon just beneath her, especially since her wings were still sore, and she didn't feel she'd be able to fly very fast, but it was just as obvious that she couldn't stay much longer.
The dragon growled again and started pacing below, and Sarah felt torn and indecisive, but finally the smoke became so thick that she couldn't wait anymore, and she launched herself through the branches and out towards the direction of the Castle. But just as she cleared the last of the branches, something exploded just beneath her with a loud crack, and a searing pain shot through her wing. She screamed and when she looked at the wing, the feathers seemed to be on fire. She flapped frantically to put out the flame, but the uneven movement caused her to fall into a spin, and the ground raced towards her with a nauseating speed.
"Jareth!" she screamed and discovered she had accidently transformed back into her own form, and she shut her eyes tightly and waited for the ground to hit her, but instead she found herself caught in strong arms.
"I have you," she heard him say, just before she fell into darkness.
Sarah was vaguely aware of being carried, and of the strong scent of leather and magic around her. She felt warm and secure in Jareth's arms, but at the same time, her left arm and hand burned viciously and she couldn't hold back a whimper.
"Just a minute, Sarah," Jareth said gently and held her a little closer, and she gritted her teeth and kept her eyes shut. She felt him stride even faster, and moment later she was lowered down on a soft bed. "Here we are – let me see your arm now."
She didn't want to see it herself and turned her head away, trying to relax as he carefully extended her arm. It made the pain even worse and she choked a sob back, but a moment after, she felt the pain slowly subsiding, and she reluctantly opened her eyes a little and turned her head to watch him. Jareth was kneeling by her side with his bare hands suspended just above her arm - his ever-present gloves carelessly discarded on the floor. His hair was messy and his clothes in slight disarray, but it was nothing compared to the torn and burned sleeve of her own dress and the angry red swelling starting from her shoulder and ending at a horrifying red-blackened hand. She gasped and stiffened, and he glanced up for a moment before concentrating fully on her arm again.
"It will be all right," he said softly and moved his hands up and down the length of her injuries. "Just lie still and let me heal you – I'll make it as good as new."
"Can you really do that?" she whispered. "It looks awful."
"Trust me, Sarah." He continued, and she felt the pain fading further, until it was just a dull throbbing, but as he made no move to stop yet, she let her head fall back against the pillows and closed her eyes again.
"How did we get away from the dragon?" she asked after a moment. "Did you kill it?"
He didn't reply immediately, but just as she was about to ask again, he gave a deep sigh.
"Sarah, the dragon… I thought you realized that… I was the dragon."
"What?" She looked sharply at him, but his face was turned away towards her wounds and he didn't meet her eyes.
"I'm sorry you got burned by the fire – I didn't see you until it were too late."
"You can transform into a dragon?"
He nodded shortly. "It took years to make perfect, but it is a very useful form. I had hoped to scare her even more and I was furious that she gave up so easily. So I felt like burning something afterwards – I just hadn't realized the firs were so dry and flammable. Or that you were there."
"Hoggle said you'd like an audience," she said wearily. "But you couldn't have known – it was dark and cloudy."
"The Labyrinth picks up my mood," he explained. "When I sense so little regards for the child I take, the Labyrinth usually responds by reflecting my anger with dark skies, rain and storms to make the trials worse for the quester. She was very lucky today – I would have expected it to make short work of her."
"It? You mean the Labyrinth? Does it have a will of its own?"
Jareth smiled wryly, but shook his head. "No, it is merely very much attuned to me, and I was not in a forgiving mood today."
Sarah suddenly remembered the child and looked around for the crib in her room – and then she realized she was not in her own room, but in Jareth's – and on Jareth's bed. She was lying on a dark red velvet cover and red pillows were strewn casually at the edges. The bed had a funny shape as she had noticed before - not square or even round, but an angled D-shape that followed the lines of the wall to perfection. Set at uneven intervals were wooden carved pillars, towering up above her and supporting a black and silver drape that covered the back wall and part of the sides, obscuring the view of the staircase, she knew was there.
"Jareth, why did you take me here?" she asked and tried not to sound as uncomfortable as she felt. "You could have put me in my own bed."
"The baby is down there, isn't it?" he replied dryly. "I didn't want to wake it up if it was asleep – or have it disturb you if it wasn't."
Sarah couldn't deny his logic, but she still didn't feel very at ease being here. It was the first time she had been back in his room since that first day.
"Hoggle and the goblins will mind the child," Jareth continued. "Right now you need my attention more. I'm going to draw on your magic now as well – this might feel a little funny."
He gently lowered his hands until they touched her bare skin, and the contact sent a jolt of electricity through her, making her jump.
"Please, try to stay still," he cautioned and slowly moved his hands up and down her injured arm, and his hands left a burning track behind, so she could feel exactly where he had touched and where he had not, as if the magic in her answered the magic in him. She dared a quick look at the arm and to her relief, it already looked much better – it was still an angry red colour, but there were no open wounds anymore. She tried to relax, as he had asked, but his gentle healing touch unsettled her and she felt her entire body tingling with magic. But at the same time, she couldn't forget about the baby.
"What will happen to it now?" she murmured, although she knew the answer. "I mean, the Labyrinth will take it and transform it, but there are still some hours left. Hoggle said you could speed up time for it?"
"If needed, yes." Jareth shrugged. "As long as it is sleeping there is no hurry – and I assume it still is, since no one has come up and bothered us yet."
As if on cue, a high-pitched goblin voice called out from below. Jareth sighed, but as the call came again, this time more urgent, he removed his hands and stood. He picked up his gloves and pulled them back on, and for a moment Sarah glimpsed an ugly red cross-shaped scar on one of his palms before it was covered up by the black leather glove.
"I have to leave you for a moment, but I think the healing is well on the way – your own magic will sustain it now. Just stay there – I'll be back soon." He looked at her, frowning, and hesitated a moment, but then reached out and stroked her hair and chin gently with an oddly pained look in his mismatched eyes, sending another shiver through her.
"Sarah…" he whispered, and his tone sent a chill of surprise through her, but before she could form an answer, he turned and quickly disappeared behind the shimmering drapes, and she could hear his steps disappearing down the stairs.