Chapter 17

Fever Dream

When I open my eyes again I am in an unfamiliar place. My dragon is gone, my goblin is gone, the rose is gone…and so is the pain in my battered hands. The dancing has stopped and I am in a world unlike any I have ever seen before. Here, all is crafted in gold and silver. Here, gentle light of evening filters through delicate silver trees, reflecting prettily off of a crystalline pool to my left. The ground beneath me is soft and white, though I cannot tell whether I kneel on grass or mossy carpeting as it is all shrouded in a delicate mist that hangs like cloud around my folded legs. The air is cool and easy to breathe, permeated with a gentle fragrance that I cannot quite place. I close my eyes and inhale, allowing peace to spread itself through my limbs. This can only be a dream. No place on earth could be so serene and yet…something troubles me. Deeply. Despite all this rightness…despite the beauty of my surroundings and the softness of the earth and the sweetness of the air, I feel a strange sense of…longing. A yearning so strong it makes my very bones ache and I can feel the threat of tears prickling behind my eyes. There is someone that I desperately need to find. Someone whose absence leaves me incomplete. I open my eyes again and immediately get to my feet, beginning the search for my missing piece.

It isn't until I feel the cool fabric slithering around my ankles and whispering over my skin that I realize something has changed about me and I take notice of my attire. Stopping in my tracks, I look down in dismay, stifling a violent curse as I discover the nature of my garments. I am wearing an elegant snowy white dress styled after the fashion of medieval days, beautifully embroidered with graceful patterns of delicate silver stitching at its hem, sleeves, and bodice. Slippers of soft white silk are upon my feet and when I raise a hand to my hair, I find it tamed and tended, drawn back and held in place by what I guess to be some sort of jeweled headdress. I move quickly over to the pool and stare down at my reflection. The girl in the water is lovely. Her eyes are bright and intelligent. Her hair is dark, soft, and elegant in its jewels. Her features, striking yet fair, are pleasantly complimented by the white fabric hanging softly about her shoulders. I make a face at the reflection, turning it into something far more familiar. Great. Just great. I hate dresses, don't I? If Will sees me like this, I'll never hear the end of it... Still, though...the effect of the finery is beautiful. Even I have to admit that.

Thankfully, the sound of soft footsteps draws my attention from my alien reflection, and I raise my head to see a massive horse, midnight black and magnificent, moving through the trees. Princess dresses and magic horses, eh? Perhaps these are the echoes of frilly girlhood neglected in my tomboyish youth come back to haunt me. It seems that this dream could be trending toward something more akin to a nightmare, but I am forced to change my mind as the horse draws near. He really is a fine animal—Andalusian, I believe—with a long mane and tail, a proud arching neck, and deep intelligent black eyes, like midnight pools. I extend a hand toward the beast, having always been a sucker for a nice horse. He approaches without fear and presses his muzzle into my palm, sending smile tugging at my lips as I stroke his face.

"Good evening, my fine fellow..." I murmur, wishing my clothing was more appropriate for riding. Almost immediately, there is a change in my attire. Soft grey leggings appear on my legs and boots of supple white leather on my feet, the skirt of my dress having shortened to about mid-calf and split down the front and back, as if my wish has willed it true. The horse blinks at me expectantly and lowers himself into a bow, to make it all the easier to mount. Huh... Cool dream. Reaching out with a certainty I can only find in dreams, I twine the fingers of my left hand into the beast's mane and climb onto his back as if it were the most natural thing in the world. The horse rises from his bow, turns his head to sniff my right boot, as if to check that I am comfortably seated, and begins to walk. His steps are almost soundless, his movements smooth as glass as he picks up a trot and then a rolling canter, carrying me swiftly through the woods. I feel a laugh of pure joy bubble from my chest as I ride, happiness like no other burning within me like a flame. This is living. This is freedom. Me on the back of this magnificent animal. It feels like a faerytale...

Soon the forest begins to darken, evening light shifting to shadows of night. Despite this, our path remains well lit. Small specks of brilliance glow within the foliage of the silvery trees, as though they have been dusted with stars. The horse slows to a walk and then a stop, head raised, ears tipped forward, and nostrils testing the air. It doesn't take long for me to discover the source of his sudden awareness. Music. Music sweet and strange, drifting and echoing through the silver shadows of the forest. I can hear harps and gentle drums, the soft sounds of flute and something akin to cello...and with it, the air carries the unmistakeable fragrance of woodsmoke. I close my eyes and breathe deeply of the scent. Whatever this is, wherever it's coming from...I need to find it. I lean forward and place a hand on my steed's neck. "Can you get me there, lad?" The horse complies without hesitation, moving at a steady clip with ears pricked forward in interest.

We pass gracefully through the forest, floating upon the gentle current of music as might a leaves on a stream. Soon I can make out flickering lights between the trees, dancing, shimmering. The source of this strangeness is revealed as the horse carries me into a clearing, a perfect circle in the woods. Slender figures dance around the clearing's edge...twelve of them. Six male, six female. Six dressed in black, six in silver. All twirling elegant batons alight with golden flames. Musicians are arranged carefully on either side of a great white oak at the head of the clearing, conjuring the gentle music that entices me so. The towering oak has silver leaves, its base fashioned into a natural throne. And upon this throne, there sits a figure. From my distance I can only see that his hair is the color of starlight and his lean body is clad in simple midnight, contrasting starkly with the paleness of his surroundings. He rises languidly to his feet and begins to move toward us as my horse carries me into the center of the clearing, halting there. My heart quickens its beating. Is that him? I have the strangest feeling that it must be him...

He approaches soundlessly, gracefully, gliding across the clearing as if his feet never touch the ground at all. I can't look away. I don't want to. The mad sense of rightness that blossoms in my chest as I gaze into the angular face of Jareth the Goblin King is almost intoxicating, and I feel that I might have gone weak in the knees had I been standing. Have I ever seen anyone so beautiful? I couldn't have possibly.

He smiles as he reaches out and strokes the horse's face and neck, whispering to him in almost conspiratorial familiarity. "What have you brought me, my Goliath?"

"His name is Goliath?" I ask, turning suddenly shy when Jareth raises his eyes to mine.

"A fitting name, don't you think? For one so grand as he?"

I nod, furious with myself for blushing so.

The king smiles warmly. "My Lara. I am so pleased that you are finally here. That you are finally free. I think you belong here, don't you? Here with me. Here in your beautiful dream."

Before I can answer, before I can ask myself whether I agree with him or not, he reaches out his hands to me.

"Come dance with me, Lara."

I find myself complying without question, allowing him to lift me down from Goliath's back. As soon as my feet touch the ground, the Goblin King dances me away into blissful oblivion. I don't believe that I have ever felt so graceful, so light. I've never been one for dancing, choosing rather to occupy the wallflower's position at the few parties I have ever been bothered to attend, but dancing with Jareth...it feels effortless, like I have been born to do so, made specifically for his arms. I follow his lead without fault, spinning, swaying, weightless... It is beautiful. He is beautiful. And—to my own blatant astonishment—so am I. I must be, for how can he gaze at me so if I am not?

Before long, I realize that we are no longer in a forest clearing. The earthen floor beneath our feet has transformed into polished marble, the silver trees into great white walls lined with mirrors. I can see us there in those mirrors, perfection reflected back at us. And all around us still the fire dancers spin their flames, the musicians play their song, the stallion Goliath looks on serenely.

I am lost. Lost to the music. Lost to the dance. Lost to the dream.

The king is smiling down at me and our dancing slows to little more than a gentle sway as he slides his arm around my waist and draws me closer to him. A wild sort of euphoric dizziness plagues me at the warmth of him, at his nearness, and I find myself gazing at him questioningly...adoringly. He leans in close, parting his lips to speak. I am prepared to hang on his every word, so eager to hear the sound of his voice. The thought suddenly crosses my mind that he might try to kiss me, and I realize that I would gladly let him, but something...very odd happens before he can make even a sound. Midway through a repeat of the bridge, the music changes. The entire composition of the song changes, tempo quickening, chord progressions shifting seamlessly into a minor key, bass line and drum suddenly deep and driving, like a dark heartbeat.

I feel as if someone has slipped a blade of ice between my ribs. A shiver runs through me and goosebumps line my skin. I recognize this music...though I can't be sure where from. Jareth frowns and straightens up quickly, gathering me against him as if he fears I'll be snatched away as he glances toward the band of players at the edge of the ballroom. Curious, I follow his gaze and observe that the eyes of the conductor have gone wide with alarm. The musicians, having ceased in their motions, look in astonishment at their now silent instruments as this strange new song plays on without them, emanating from everywhere and nowhere all at once.

"The elf knight sits on yonder hill

He blows his horn, both loud and shrill."

It is a woman's voice, composed of smoke and honey, weaving the haunting strains of an old Irish/English ballad. The lyrics swim to the fore of my mind even as the invisible singer forms them. One of the songs my grandad likes to sing. So familiar...and somehow important. Is it playing from my own memory? I wonder. Though why the king is able to hear and react to it, I cannot say. Of course, this is just a dream, is it not? Odd things tend to happen in dreams. But why this sudden disturbance? Why interrupt my happiness?

"Lady Isabel sits a-sewing

When she heard the elf knight's horn a-blowing

'Would I had that horn a-blowing

And yon elf knight for to be my own.'"

I look into Jareth's face once more, only to find his eyes wide and confused.

"Scarcely had she these words spoken

When in at the window the elf knight's broken."

A flash of memory crosses my mind's eye, the image of this very Goblin King standing impressively in the wide flung window of my sister's house. I scrutinize him now before me, a frown of my own claiming my features. He very nearly quails beneath my gaze, mouth opening and closing as he seeks some explanation.

"'Light down, light down, Isabel,' said he

'For we're come to the place where you are to die.'

'Seven kings' daughters here have I slain,

And you shall be the eighth of them.'"

Wake up.

I remember. I remember, now. My Grandad used to sing this to my mum when she was young, partially because she shares her name with the Lady therein, and partially for the warning the song conveys. It warns of the dangers of falling to temptation. Of falling victim to deception.

Wake up, Lara.

I shove away from the Goblin King in disgust, understanding now, seeing clearly his falsehood. This, all this is just an illusion. How can I have been so easily led?! How can I have been so stupid?! A sweeping wave of pain at his deception, at his betrayal threatens to overcome me, and probably would have if anger—pure, crimson anger didn't rise up so fiercely against it. Liar! I fight down my warped sense of euphoric fondness for him. Deceiver! I cast aside the memory of that strange rescue from the darkness, of our walk in the forest, of the warmth of his arms. He only wants me to fail. He only wants me to forget. He wants me to forget and—which was worse—he has very nearly succeeded. I turn to retreat from him as he grasps at my hands, a look of pleading terror in his eyes.

"Lara, wait! Listen to me, I-"

"Don't touch me!" I wrench free of him and storm away toward the ballroom's edge, searching frantically for the door that I somehow know does not exist. The fire dancers all cease in their dancing, glancing toward each other and moving uncertainly to block my way. Behind me, I can hear the Goblin King advancing, speaking my name, begging me to stop.

Enough. Enough of this. So Jareth is fond of games, is he? Well, I can play games too.

I whirl around abruptly to face the king, whipping my left arm up to point at his chest. He stops dead, staring at my hand in unconcealed astonishment. The players and performers in attendance all gasp and chitter among themselves in frightened concern for their tall blond leader, but all I can do is smile. The slim silver dagger that has just materialized in my hand, for all its lack of realness, still feels cool against my skin, its wicked point hovering level with the Goblin King's throat. Oh yes...this is not a faerytale. This is my dream. My mind. Here, I have the power. Here, I am Queen.

"How did you-"

"Quiet," I say. Jareth stops short. His eyes betray his uncertainty, and I relish it, beginning to feel like myself again. "Are you familiar with this song, Your Majesty? The story of the Elf Knight?" I ask, moving closer to him and holding the edge of my blade gently against the corner of his jaw.

"If ever I was, I have since forgotten," he says, standing rigid as a statue, his eyes never leaving mine. "Remind me, please."

I trace the blade along his jawline, faint as a whisper. "The Elf Knight sought to seduce the Lady Isabel. To lure her away, subdue, and eventually murder her. He made his true intentions clear only when he felt certain that victory was his... But when the lady learned of his treachery..."

"Yes?" His lips tremble ever so slightly as he utters the word, his voice low...almost hoarse.

I hold his gaze coolly, allowing a measure of contempt to chill my eyes and voice. "She killed him with his own blade."

Jareth says nothing, but I can tell that his breath and pulse have quickened. Whether this is a result of my admittedly bold proximity or of the fact that I have just made a less than subtle threat whilst holding a very sharp knife, I cannot say for certain.

"I'm not going to hurt you..." I say, allowing the dagger's edge to rest against his collarbone.

"No?" An almost involuntary smile tugs at the corners of his own mouth now.

"No... I am going to steal your horse, though." Without another word, I turn and walk up to the massive black stallion, mentally instructing him to lower into another bow for me to mount. He does so, easy as anything.

"Lara!" the king gasps as I settle myself on Goliath's back.

I look at him once more. His right hand is resting against his collarbone where my blade had touched him and a strange intensity burns behind his eyes, like those of a starving man confronted with the sustenance he longs for, yet cannot obtain.

"Lara... You deserve to be free." He holds my gaze whilst the fire dancers begin to tighten their circle around us. "Don't you want to be free?"

Once upon a time, a biting insult would have been the first thing on my tongue...but, instead I find myself smiling almost sympathetically. Poor Jareth... It seems he still has much to learn.

"I already am," I say.

An expression of combined awe and defeat sparks in Jareth's gaze at my reply, and his smile begins to fade.

There I leave him, urging his horse into a gallop, pressing tightly with my calves as the creature leaps magnificently over the heads of the fire dancers. I direct the horse with a confidence that I never could have imagined myself possessing. I know exactly what to do, and though my certainty almost frightens me, I press on. As my steed and I careen toward the mirrored walls, I hurl the dream dagger ahead of us, striking the center of the mirror with the dagger's wicked tip and cracking the glass with the sound of splintering ice. I stare into the eyes of the Goblin King as we fly, his figure standing reflected in a thousand shards of broken dream. Then Goliath and I smash through the mirror, and I am falling again. Falling alone and through darkness again. And yet I can feel myself smiling. What a victory that had been. A true victory.

Author's Note: Right then! Two whole uploads within a week, eh? That must be a new record for me... I realize that I ought to have the discipline to pace myself more evenly, but alas (as you've all witnessed,) consistency is not my strongest attribute.

I hope you've enjoyed this chapter a bit more than the last one. However, I do worry that it might have been a bit cliché for me to imitate Henson's famous dream sequence... On the one hand, I want this story to be original, but on the other, I don't want to stray too far from the ideas that made Jim's Labyrinth so magical in the first place. I want to stick as close as I can to his vision for his world/characters, out of respect for him as much as out of a desire to keep from muddying up a story that I've come to love so well. I want to make sure it's clear that Lara is no Sarah. She's no replacement for Sarah, and she certainly holds no superiority over Sarah. She's just...a fresh face in a familiar setting, and I want to make sure that she honors the ones who came before her.

Once again, I would like to say a very special thank you to Lil'Sparrow7! I do hope Lara's nap was satisfactory...

I've got a few little details coming up in future chapters that I'm super excited to share with you all! We'll get to spend more time with our dear Jareth, of course...and perhaps we'll get to see another familiar face or two along the way ;) However it all turns out, I thank each and every one of you for reading.

Here's hoping you are all having a delightful December! Merry Christmas, my friends :)

God Bless,

FireDancer