Disclaimer: I still own nothing.
Chapter Title: from "The Rifle" by Alela Diane
Jareth stared, hypnotized by his own crystals as they spun around in his palm. He had all but given up the practice of juggling them; perpetual hunger had robbed him of the focus required. But he still had just enough energy to summon pictures. And today, the image that he called forth was of Sarah.
The vision was hazy, and almost never showed a full picture of her. Most of the time he caught only her shuffling feet or the back of her head. But even in the incomplete depiction, he could see that, exempting a few minor physical changes, she was very much the same. Still unwavering in her dedication to her task, still perpetually optimistic. How was it that nothing ever daunted her? For thousands of years labyrinths had been seen as a strong deterrent against all kinds of attacks. Armies had been disbanded at the sight of them. Yet here was this mortal girl who plowed through as though she were out for an evening stroll. Her prowess was loathsome and fascinating in equal part.
Is that why you can't take your eyes off of her? His inner voice was asking, much to his dismay. He raged against it. He could stop looking at her any damned time he pleased. It was simply that, buried deep in the bowels of the oubliette, there was not much to look at. And now, after three long years, things were finally becoming interesting again. He had never been in the habit of denying himself, so why should he make exceptions now? No, if he wanted to keep track of her progress, then that is exactly what he would do.
She was wandering through various hedges now, the dead branches stacked so high he doubted she could see anything but the tallest peaks of the castle. He frowned for her. It would be difficult to proceed that way, with so small a vantage point. Though he did not think for one moment that that would stop her.
He would have been content to continue assessing her progress, had he not sensed a shift in the air. He sighed, "I thought we agreed to put an end to these little 'visits.""
Delicia put on a pout as she walked over to him. "I agreed to no such thing. You must have imagine it."
"Woe to my wishful thinking," he groused. She ignored him, instead darting forward to snatch the crystal from his grasp.
"Now, what have we here?" she asked in a mocking tone. It rolled across her palm with deft precision, coming to halt only when she chose to look into its depths. "Spying, brother?"
"If you must know, yes," he admitted as nonchalantly as possible. In reality, he was quite perturbed that he had allowed his only real form of distraction to be taken, but he knew better than to whine about it. His sister fed on tears as though they were rare delicacies.
"She really is a spirited little thing, isn't she?" Delicia's voice dropped an octave, as though she were really pondering the thought, and not just saying it to goad him. It gave him the opportunity to look at her without fear of getting caught. He was looking for something—anything—that might clue him in to what she was thinking. But there was nothing to discern. Whether she was plotting murder or contemplating dinner plans, he would never be able to say. She was a book of elegant bindings filled with nothing but blank pages, and Jareth found himself wondering if she felt anything at all.
Despite his inability to decipher her mysteries, he did notice something peculiar. "Why is your hair up? Your hair us never up," he spat as though her change in hairstyle was personally offensive.
She raised an eyebrow at him, perpetual in her surprise at his shifting moods. "That's not entirely true," she chose to remind him.
"You only wear your hair up when…"
"Go on," she coaxed languidly, "Finish that sentence."
"When Father comes to visit." His chest was tight as he said it, half from despair and half from longing. Though, as the feelings spread throughout his body, he was reminded that those emotions were not really so different.
A part of him had always questioned if his father knew exactly what Delicia had done with him, if he was aware of the full extent of her cruelties. He was unwilling to believe that the man who had sired him, raised him, would cast him aside so easily. But a larger part of him doubted he even cared. It was the troublesome persistence of hope made him believe that his father might actually be concerned for him. He was his only son, after all. His first born. And, up until his removal from office, he had been his heir. Surely that suggested some degree of sentiment. A point of softness, if not outright affection. Maybe enough to render a pardon?
"Should I be expecting a visit from him, then?" he asked, keeping his voice carefully neutral.
Delicia did not look at him. "He's already gone."
What little hope there had been died away, fickle as a memory that had really been a dream. He could not say why, but he was overcome with the urge to pursue this line of questioning, futile thought it was. Maybe he wanted to be certain that his chances were as bleak as he already knew they were. Maybe he wanted to wound himself just for the sake of it.
"And he knows I'm here?"
"Of course he knows," Delicia snorted. "He even thought my choice of venue was appropriate. You're quite easily forgotten when you're locked down here, did you know that?"
"Then why do you keep coming back?" he snapped at her, more than fed up with being treated like the village idiot. He was not expecting a reaction from her, but one presented itself.
It lasted only a moment, a flicker of some long lost emotion crossing her face. He sat up a bit straighter when he saw it, squinting at it as though he might have been mistaken. But before he could determine whether it had truly been there or not, her face reverted to its mask of flawless porcelain.
"I am here because Father asked me to observe you. He wondered if, perhaps, in your years of solitude, that you had come to your senses concerning the poor girl."
"And what did you tell him?"
"The truth."
Jareth did nothing to hide the flaring of color to his face, nor the pulsing vein in his forehead. She was laughing at him. Mocking him really. He could handle any number of torments at her hand, but not this. He would not suffer to be made a fool of. When again he spoke, it was through clenched teeth. "Would it be at all feasible of me to ask what exactly I have done to procure the intense dislike of my only remaining family members?"
"Don't play the fool, Jareth," she told him, "You know as well as anyone why you've landed yourself here."
"I assure you I do not." His voice was cold, gravelly, doing little to disguise his barely suppressed rage.
Her eyes hooked on his then, searching, refusing to let go. "You really don't understand, do you?" She shook her head and huffed out a laugh. "Though I suppose it makes sense. I don't know why I'm surprised, really. It's not as though you were ever there for Father's lessons."
"I was home often enough to absorb his lectures," he tried to interject.
"No, you were not," she rejected him. "You dropped in when it was convenient for you, and left when it was convenient for no one. Cavorting around the kingdom singing songs and throwing parties. At least I bothered with some scholarly pursuits."
"So modest, sister," he spat at her. He would not let her see that he was squirming against the wall, her tirade bearing a bead of truth. "You always were Father's favorite. Do tell us again of your conquests as the golden child."
"Father's favorite," she snickered. "Yes, I suppose I am. But it's not as though you made it a difficult choice. All I had to do was apply myself, to reach for the heights of my own ambition. To consistently exceed his expectations.
"But do you want to know a secret?" She waited a moment until she was certain she had his attention. "Father would have happily gone to the grave years ago if you had put forth half the effort I did. But you chose to let yourself be distracted. You reveled in it, I could tell. So don't pretend that you resent being the family disappointment, when we both know you wouldn't want it any other way."
When she was finished, all either of them could do was stare across at the other. Jareth could feel the layers of tension rolling off of her, keeping him at bay. And, on further reflection, he realized that this strain had been there for as long as he could remember. They were separated by years of grievances allowed to pile up over too many centuries. And neither of them made a move to bridge the gap. They had picked at each other's scabs so often that now all that was left were scars in the shape of the other's teeth. And one thought rang again and again through Jareth's mind, drowning out even the sound of the clock: What have we done to each other?
"Is that why you're punishing me, then? Because you're angry with me for besmirching the family name?" he asked, speaking quietly, his voice all but detached from his body. He could not let her see that he still bore untainted skin; vulnerabilities left that she could exploit. It was one of those crippling detriments of having a sibling, of sharing a childhood with someone you grew to hate. She knew, possibly better than anyone, the best and deepest ways to cut him.
"Punishment?" she questioned, rolling the word across her tongue, examining its flavor. "Who said anything about punishment?"
"Is that not what all of this is about?"
"Oh, Jareth," she hummed, "Poor, sweet, confused Jareth. This has nothing to do with punishment. This is about winning. About showing Father that he was wrong to have had hope for you. That I will always be the one to succeed where you have failed."
"And you're going to do this by killing a defenseless mortal girl?" he sneered, knowing his father would not be impressed by so small a feat.
But his sister only laughed again, delighting in the things she knew that he did not. "Oh, my dear. I'm not just going to kill Sarah Williams, I am going to destroy her. She can delude her way through the labyrinth for as long as she likes; she'll still tire eventually. And when she does, she'll come crawling to me, begging for relief.
"And then…I'll let you see her just long enough for you to release your last strains of power to her before I decimate you both."
"Get out," he breathed, not giving her the satisfaction of seeing him frightened. For once, he was able to lock his emotions away as easily as she did. His imperfect eyes revealed nothing, only staring her down as though his gaze alone could force her from the room. And for once, she listened, tossing him the crystal once more and disappearing from sight.
The moment she was gone, the weariness returned to his face, his whole body seeming to deflate. His sister was going to destroy him. The thought was not as surprising to him as he would have liked. They had always been competitive with each other, even in their youth. Often he had imagined that the only way their lives could end was at the other's hand. So, in a way, he had expected this moment to come. What he had not expected was that he would drag Sarah down with him. That he could not accept.
He had to find a way to stop her. As much as he wanted to believe that his father would stop this outrageousness before it could get too far, he could not be certain. He needed an alternate course of action, one that would allow Sarah to keep her life. And the only way that would be possible was if she were to return to the Goblin City and barricade herself deep within the walls of the castle. There, where her power would be at its strongest, she would be safe. But how could he convince her to go back when he was locked in this prison?
From deep within his clenched fists, the crystal began to glow. Sarah's image returned, this time showing her ear as she tucked a strand of hair behind it. For one desperate moment, he prayed that she would turn her head so that he might catch a glimpse of her eyes. But then she faded away again, the crystal returning nothing but his own, inverted reflection.
And as he continued to stare into it, he grinned. A plan had come to mind.
Sarah was utterly certain that they had passed the same hedge an hour ago. Certain because most of the others, though characteristically wonky in shape and structure, were flat across the top. This one had a distinct silhouette, curving down in the middle like a giant horse shoe. It had to be the same one.
Of course, her mind countered, the other one had more twigs sticking out of it.
She shook her head to clear it, aware that she was beginning to think in circles. It had to be the same hedge. Twig quantity had nothing to do with it. Though, the more she thought on it, the less certain she was that that was a good thing. She should not want it to be the same shrub. That would be an indication that they had somehow looped back around. That all of the progress they had made was not actually progress at all.
Futility was not an experience that she handled well, even in the Aboveground. She had always hated taking science classes, sure that they had no bearing on the success of her future. Now, the chance that they could have been walking all this time while never drawing closer brought her to the point of stomping her feet and throwing a tantrum. If they were still in the same spot, then what was the point of continuing? They might as well have plopped down and stretched their tired legs for all the distance they had covered!
"Oh, this is impossible," she groaned, throwing her head back.
"Don't you go talking like that, missy," Hoggle shook a finger at her. "That's my line." In spite of herself, the dwarf's words did bring the hint of a smile to her face.
"Besides, we've actually gotten closer," Will chimed in. He was pointing a triangular object at the horizon, one eye squinted closed so that he could focus.
Sarah cocked her head, curious. "How do you know?"
"I've been tracking it," he said, calling her over. She approached, allowing him to adjust his contraption so that she could look through it. Up close, she could see that it was made of sticks tied together with bits of grass. "You see the outline of that tower way out there?" he asked, pointing. "Well, an hour ago, that tower fit inside this triangle perfectly. But now, look, it's bigger."
Sarah looked. She held the twig contraption at arm's length and squinted through it, just as Will had done. And, sure enough, the edges of the tower extended beyond the range of the twigs. They were getting closer.
"Marvelous," Arden exclaimed, glancing at it from over her shoulder.
"Cub Scouts," Will shrugged with a half-smile.
"What Scouts?" the advisor questioned, appalled.
"He'll explain later," Sarah intruded, incensed with purpose once more. "We need to keep moving."
They continued on their chosen path, Hoggle with his lumbering gait, Will with mindful steps, Arden with strides of purpose. And Sarah. Sarah with her brisk, confident pace. They were on the right track now, and she felt her old assurances coming back to her. She could do this. She could lead the way through traps and twists and turns just as she had last time. In fact, she was more than happy to do it. This was where she excelled, where she could meet challenges head on. Nothing like in the Aboveground, where things always seemed determined to complicate themselves in ways that she could not sort through.
But she did not want to think about that. She was happier focusing on the positives. Hoggle is safe and here to help, we've made it through one stage of the labyrinth already, and now we're getting closer to the castle. Things are finally looking up. Except…
"Ugh, what is that smell?" Will groaned. His voice came out thick and clogged, as though he were trying to speak without breathing.
The olfactory assault hit Sarah an instant later, making her nose wrinkle with the putrid heat of it. Her first thought was of the Bog of Eternal Stench, but quickly rejected the notion. That had been a smell like…Like…Well, she had never actually come up with an accurate comparison for what it was like. But what filled the air around them now was something familiar, if only in a vaguely recognizable way. And, as they rounded past another set of hedges, she saw why.
The path had become clogged with bones. They were gathered in small piles, some picked clean, some with scraps of rotten meat still clinging to them. A suspicious lack of flies or other insects left the stench to linger all around them, heavy, like a cloud that had descended to the earth. Sarah fought waves a nausea as her eyes lingered on the decay that littered the ground, taking care not to step in anything. But even in her caution, she miss-stepped, a shard of bone cracking sharply beneath her foot.
The sound caused a yellow head to pop up amongst the carnage, and what Sarah originally thought to be another carcass transformed into the living, breathing body of a sphinx. For several seconds, all she could do was stare at the creature, so fearsome and merciless in her beauty. She possessed the noble features of a woman with golden eyes that swept across her face with feline pointedness. Beneath her slender neck and wild, copper hair, she bore the body of a lioness. Finely corded muscle swelled beneath her tawny coat as she stretched out with the ease of a house cat. It was only the needle-like claws that identified her as a predator. In a gesture that was foreign to her, but which felt instinctual, Sarah reached down and grasped the hilt of her sword.
"Who goes there?" the sphinx crooned, stepping down from her skeleton throne to circle them.
It took Sarah a moment to find her voice. "Um, hello. I—that is we are trying to get to the castle. Could you help us?" A shiver ran up her spine as the sphinx's tale brushed against her shins.
"Sure," the beast replied. "But I'm afraid you'll have to do something for me first."
"Oh. Like what?" she asked, praying that it would not be something that ate away at their time.
"Like answering my riddle."
Sarah frowned, glancing at her friends. A riddle was sure to be a confusing form of trickery. And it was different than the liar's paradox she had faced last time. Whereas then she could use logic to solidify her answer, a riddle was open to interpretation. There was nothing to check it against, and, looking at the spiked points of the sphinx's paws, she did not want to know what would happen if they interpreted it wrong.
"What do you guys think?" she asked them, not at all certain enough to make this decision on her own.
"You're asking us?" Will asked, surprised.
"Yes, I'd like your inputs," she responded, wincing a bit as she became aware of how consistent she had been in her exclusion of others in the decision making process.
Will bit his lip, considering. "I don't know…This seems risky. I don't think we should take the chance if we can find our way there on our own."
"Don't do it, Sarah," Hoggle agreed. "Sphinx's are tricky beasts. You should never trust 'em."
She nodded, more than halfway to the point of agreeing with them. She would need just one final confirmation for the choice to be made. "Arden?" she prompted, watching the pristine advisor as he watched the sphinx with intense focus.
"Do it," he breathed, finally turning to look at them.
"What?" the three party members yelped, almost in unison. The shock of Arden doing anything even mildly impulsive was enough to render them speechless, their mouths hanging open despite the loathsome smell.
Sarah was the first to recovery. "What do you mean 'do it'? Riddles leave everything up to chance, and if there's one thing I've learned about you, it's that you don't like taking chances."
"You are correct in your assessment," he granted, "But the fact remains that a beast as grand as a sphinx would only be set to guard an important part of the labyrinth. If we've run into her already, it must mean we're on the right track."
"But- But-" she stuttered. His response was so unexpected that her brain was struggling to keep up.
"Come now, you're moderately clever. Surely something as simple as a riddle could not deter you." Her jaw set, recognizing his words as both a challenge and a compliment. The latter amazed her, but the former was what made the decision for her.
She addressed the sphinx once more. "If we answer your riddle, do we have your word that you'll show us the way to the castle?"
"But of course," she purred in reply.
"And if we answer wrong?"
A smile stretched the sphinx's face, revealing rows of fanged teeth. "Then you'll help my garden grow." Her tail twitched, swinging back and forth to point at the stacks of bones.
"Alright," Sarah gulped, "Let's hear it."
The sphinx spoke:
"With my help, you can escape without a key
I'm weightless, but you can see me.
The more you move, the more I grow tighter
Put me in a bucket, and I'll make it lighter."
The riddle seemed to ripple around them, disturbing the air like a pebble dropped into a pond. For Sarah, it brought with it all the panic of drowning. She did not know the answer, was struggling even to remember the lines in the right order. Why had she chosen to listen to Arden? Screw the fact that he was meant to be her advisor, the man was clearly on a mission to make her life as complicated as possible. In a last, pleading attempt, she looked to Will for assurance, for the balance he had always provided her.
He saw her unspoken question, of course, and his mouth set in a firm line. "I have no idea," he said, first to her and then to the sphinx. The beast smiled again, her teeth flashing.
"Sarah…" Hoggle whined from her side as the sphinx prowled closer. The distress in her friend's voice was enough to bring her hand back to the sword. She would not allow her friends to become a meal without getting a few swings in first, of that she was sure. But the grizzly turn of her thoughts was broken by a soft chuckling, one which took her a moment to place.
"Clever," Arden laughed, "Clever indeed." The sphinx's expression fell to snarling.
Sarah rounded on him, her eyes wide with the promise of renewed hope. "You know the answer?" she cried, her exuberance startling even her.
"It's not so difficult, really," he chided her. "Think at it. Make an effort to answer." Intrigued, she fixed her gaze on the ground, allowing her mind to go blank. With Arden proving competent enough to answer, she was all the more eager to solve it herself. She began picking it apart line by line.
"With me, you can escape without a key." That could be any number of things. Toby had recently grown fond of locking doors, and she had learned to pick locks with everything from hairpins to paper clips. Keys were certainly not essential to escape, especially if you had the patience and persistence to try. What tripped her was the next line.
"I'm weightless, but you can see me." The riddle grew more complex with this addition. The only weightless thing that she could think of was air, but it was impossible to see air. Perhaps it was something more abstract? Like…love? Love could be considered weightless, and it could be seen when looked for. But could it aide in escaping without a key? Possibly, she supposed, but she did not think it likely that Arden had come up with an answer as schmaltzy as love. She moved on to the next piece.
"The more you move, the more I grow tighter." She had no idea what that could mean. Something that grew tighter with movement? All that came to mind was the absurd notion of an Ace bandage. On the point of giving up, she looked to the final line.
"Put me in a bucket, and I'll make it lighter." This was the part that made no sense. You could not add two things together and hope to subtract the weight. It defied the founding principles of mathematics. One plus one would always equal two, and two would always weigh more than one.
Unless the thing being added would also subtract from it. The thought came to her in a sudden rush of clarity. And then she was all but jumping up and down with excitement. "Oh. Oh!" she squealed, looking at Arden, who smiled in response.
"What is it?" Will asked, him and Hoggle still in the dark.
"It's a hole," Sarah said, her eyes narrowing on the sphinx's. "A hole can help you escape without a key, it doesn't have any weight but you can see it, if you move too much you could stuck or it could collapse, and if you have one in a bucket, whatever you're carrying will pour out."
"Well done," Arden praised.
"Indeed," the sphinx hissed. She swept aside the largest stack of bones, revealing the way through. And Sarah's shoulders slumped. The riddle was exceedingly appropriate. From between two slabs of rock, a narrow hole gaped like a mouth ready to swallow them.
Sarah crouched down before it, finding that it was just wide enough to accommodate the width of her shoulders. They would not be able to crawl on hands and knees as she had done to get to the heart of the labyrinth. No, here they would have to scamper along on their bellies using elbows and knees to push themselves along.
Stomaching fear, she poked her head inside to get a closer look. The passage was lit, the walls seeming to exude their own, unseen, light force. As her eyes adjusted to the dimness, she saw that, instead of the stone walls she had been expecting, the hole was lined with wallpaper. It was maroon in color, embellished with tiny gold fleurs-de-lis. And, with building dread, she realized that she recognized it.
"I think the labyrinth has chosen its next muse," she said as she pulled herself out again. Her eyes saw past the other's locking on Will's and pulling him forward. He approached with caution, sliding his feet as though the ground might collapse from under him at any moment. It took only one glance into the hole for him to see what she meant.
Sarah had only visited Will's house twice before. Their friendship was built in the outdoors, where nothing could trap them. His house was the opposite of what they craved, tight and dark and disorderly on most days. And the hallway lined with this particular wallpaper was the worst of all. It was in the direct line of sight of the front door, stretching towards the back of the house. At the end was the door to his father's office, eternally closed. It was distorted from the length of the hall, tiny but long at the same time, and Sarah had always felt as if she were looking at it through the wrong end of a telescope.
"I can't go in there," Will said, adamant as she had ever seen him. He was looking down on her, not with stubbornness or disobedience, but with fear. His eyes begged her not to send him in there with such potency that her chest actually began to cave in on itself.
"Enter here and find your way to the castle, or stay and help my garden flourish," the sphinx said, stretching her long neck towards his ear.
"Master William, I must insist that you forestall these complaints and allow us to press forward," Arden urged. Prolonged company in the presence of the sphinx was beginning to make them all wary.
"You don't understand, I can't go in there," he ground out, hazel eyes glowing bright with panic.
"Why ever not?"
"Will has claustrophobia," Sarah answered for him, looking at her hands. She knew how hard it was for him to admit, how much he detested having it in the first place. He had not even told her until six months into their friendship when, in a game of hide and seek with Toby, he had refused to enter their small attic to look for him.
"My dad used to lock me in the hall closet whenever I misbehaved. Sometimes he'd forget about me, and leave me in there all night. I've been scared ever since." Will looked at everyone and no one as he said this, his gaze spectral and unfathomable.
"You never told me that," Sarah said in a small voice. He had never offered explanation for his fear, and she had never pressed him about it. Only now did it occur to her that she should have.
Will gave her a sad little smile. "I don't always tell you everything."
Sarah opened her mouth to reply, but no words came forth. What could she say? There was not an apology in the world that could cover what she was asking him to do.
"We have to move," Arden urged again, this time breaking past them to begin his descent through the tunnel. Her eyes swiveled wildly as she watched his legs disappear, caught now between following his course of action and giving Will the time he needed to adjust. It should not have been a difficult decision; Will was her best friend and he was asking for her support in exchange for his. But she could not cull the part of her that longed to follow Arden through to the other side.
"Eh, Will?" Hoggle's voice broke through the swell of her dilemma. She shifted her attention to the dwarf as he fumbled with his shirt sleeves. "I dunno if Sarah told ya this, but when I helped her through the labyrinth the first time, I was a big coward."
She managed to smile of affection at her friend. "You weren't so bad. All you needed was the proper motivation."
"Well, that's just my point," he countered, turning again to Will. "It's hard to be afraid when you have no other choice but to be brave. Sometimes there's just things ya have to do."
Sarah was warmed by the dwarf's astute advice, and pleased to find that he had not reverted to his old ways in her absence. She looked next to Will, hoping the words had a positive effect on him.
"I know all of that," he muttered, contemplative. "And I know there's no other way through. I just…I can't help what I'm afraid of."
"I know you can't," she told him as she grasped his hand. "No one can. But Hoggle and I will be with you the whole time. We'll help you through this." Just like you've been helping me, she wanted to add, but didn't.
He squeezed her hand once, his face clenching in a way that suggested he was already regretting his decision, and nodded.
Hoggle went through first, his stunted legs kicking as he tried to propel himself along. Will approached the entrance next, crouching into position. He looked back once before entering. "You'll be right behind me?"
"Right behind you," she promised, squeezing his shoulder. Breaking free of her touch, he ducked his body into the tunnel.
Sarah waited until his feet had disappeared before crawling in after him. As daylight disappeared from overhead, she got a good sense of how Will had developed such an intense fear of closed spaces. It was like being squeezed through a straw. The walls applied a near constant pressure on her from various angles, scraping across her back and stomach. There was barely enough room for her to take a full breath. Trying to clear that thought from her mind, she focused on the bottoms of Will's boots just a few feet in front of her. He was doing well, moving through the passage with as much as speed as the space would allow. She could picture him, eyes squinted shut as he tried to imagine being anywhere else as he forced his way through the earth.
They had been moving along for about a minute when he came to a dead stop. Sarah halted after him, her way blocked. "Will?" she called forward, attempting to look ahead to see what was delaying him. The only response was a series of rapid, wheezing breaths. "Are you alright? Hoggle, what's going on up there?"
"Ohhhh, he's stuck," Hoggle called back in distress.
"Can't…breathe…" Will gasped, his throat making a light whistling sound as he hyperventilated.
"Will, you're not stuck. I'm right here, you've got plenty of room to move," she cajoled back at him, fighting the rising tide of her own panic. She pressed on the bottoms of his feet, trying to prompt him onward, but succeeded only in making things worse.
"Let me out of here," he began screaming. "Please…please…please let me out!"
"It's okay, it's okay," she shouted back, "We're going to get out of here, you just have to move." Try thought she might to soothe him, there was no reasoning to be had. Wherever Will's mind had taken him, it was far from this hole in the ground, though infinitely as dark.
What have I done to him? She worried as she spewed forth a string of apologies that were drowned out in the swell of his screaming. Just when she was on the brink of breaking into tears herself, she heard Arden's voice break through the noise.
"Look at me, William, look at me," he was saying, his voice as measured and authoritarian as it always was. It brought pause to the chaos. "Now, tell me what is wrong."
"Need…to get out. Don't…leave me here." His voice shook, each waver bringing a stab of pain to Sarah's chest.
"We are, we are going to get out of here. But to do that, you must focus on me and nothing else." Sarah found herself listening to his words as well, drawing from them the calm she needed. But with it came a twist of insecurity deep in her gut. She had not been able to get them through this hell hole as she had promised.
Under Arden's guidance, Will began to move again, allowing her to follow. The advisor offered constant words of encourage, always remaining calm and steady. It was another minute before the light of the outside world appeared a head of them, bright and enticing as a miniature sun. Will all but clawed his way out, swallowing gulps of fresh air like a man who had been drowning for one hundred years.
Sarah emerged last, collapsing on the ground beside Will as she too got control of her breath. And with each exhaled, she whispered out, "I'm sorry…I'm sorry…I'm sorry."
Pine trees tipped in frosty white inhabited the third phase of the labyrinth. In the dying light, they sparkled faintly; a beautiful sight for any who stopped to appreciate it. But Sarah's party did not. They trudged through, barely aware of their surroundings at all.
They were able to put in one more hour of walking before the sun sank below the horizon and they were forced to make camp for the night. Since making it out of the hole, Will had adopted stony silence, lingering at the back of the group with Hoggle. The dwarf had proved a comforting friend for him, talking in order to fill the quiet. It stung Sarah to see them to together, knowing that Hoggle was doing more to help her friend than she was. But then again, she seemed to be the only one unable to help when she was needed.
Her broken promise weighed on her heavily. It was not so much that others had succeeded where she had not, though that hurt enough. What worried her most was that, if she were incapable of getting through a small tunnel, how was she supposed to save the Goblin Kingdom? They would be awaiting her return back in the city. How would she explain going back empty handed? If Will's present attitude was any indication, it would not be a warm welcome.
When at last they settled down in their makeshift camp, Will was still going out of his way to avoid her. Not that she blamed him. He had been through a traumatic experience, and he had done it so that he could continue to support her on a journey he had not asked to go on. She probably would have hated him too if the situation were reversed.
Fully prepared to wallow in her guilt, Sarah volunteered to take first watch while the others slept. No one protested, hunkering down against the bouquet of saplings and searching for sleep. For some, it came easily. Hoggle had given himself over completely, snoring with abandon. He made a comical picture, even against the backdrop of the darkened forest. Arden too seemed to have nodded off, his back pressed against a tree trunk so that he remained in a seated position.
Will's breathing was the only one which lacked the even rhythm of sleep. Sarah sank down beside him, rubbing her hands together to warm them. For quite some time, she did not say anything. She just sat beside him, letting him know that she was there and that she was sorry. After a while, he seemed to get the message and rolled over to face her.
"Why are we here?" he asked without preamble.
The question caught her off guard. What was he talking about? He knew perfectly well what they were doing here. Though she had a sense that that was not what he meant by the question, she answered in the only way she knew how. "We're here to rescue the Goblin King and return his power."
"Why?" he pressed further. His face was placid, yet firm. He was not going to let her weasel her way out of answering.
"Because-" she stuttered, "Because it's my fault he was taken, and I'll feel very guilty if he dies."
Her words came out in a rush that did nothing to change Will's expression. If anything, his features hardened. "You're lying," he accused. "And I don't know why. But you are."
"I-" she began, uncertain if she was going to try to defend her statement or not. But she was spared the conflict when a soft humming buzzed its way through their camp. She sat up, focusing on the sound. "What is that?"
They both rose to their feet, Will going around to wake the others, Sarah searching for the source of the sound. She caught it in a glimpse of moonlight just as it grazed past her foot. It had rolled past her in an instant, but she knew—unequivocally—what it was.
What is a crystal doing way out here? She wondered as she followed the path it had traced through the snow. The shuffling footsteps behind her told her that the others were coming, and, emboldened by their presence, she picked up the pace. Her mind had been consumed with the single-minded task of catching up to that crystal. It must have sensed her fascination because it began to speed up, forcing her into a jog. She was winded by the time it finally came to a stop, but it was not until a moment later that her breath truly caught.
Reaching out from behind a tree was a gloved hand, surprisingly elegant and achingly familiar. The crystal wasted no time, hoping up into the outstretched palm. With the orb firmly in hand, the rest of the figure emerged from behind the tree, white teeth shimmering in the moonlight.
Sarah had imagined this moment many times over the course of the last few days, trying to picture what she would say. She had crafted several nuanced responses that she thought might work well, but in that moment, all that came to mind was: "You glittery asshole!"
The Goblin King's smile only stretched further. "Hello, precious."
A/N: Mwahahahah. Yes, I am being slightly evil and making you all wait a week to see the full extent of this glorious reunion. Forgive me.
This is the longest chapter yet, and I'm pretty pleased with it overall. The sphinx's riddle was fun to write, as were Jareth and Delicia's continued prison interactions. It was also interesting covering Will's claustrophobia as I myself have struggled with a specific phobia since I was six. (Though I've never had claustrophobia, so I hope I got it right.)
Alright, I think I'm going to go make Mac n' Cheese now. Hope you all enjoyed the chapter, and let me know what you think!