Sorry for the wait! Busy days. Thanks for the support, and enjoy!
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Sarah stretched long and tall, arching her back and reaching her hands and feet away from each other. When she opened her eyes, she didn't jump at the curtains of green that enveloped her vision. She didn't squeal at the wooden owls that stared at her expectantly. She knew where she was.
"The Labyrinth," she thought to herself. For some reason, perhaps because it was the second time around, or perhaps because the situation was so different, she felt no fear in her heart. The king seemed somewhat on her side.
"If there are sides," she added in her mind.
The covers slipped lazily from her body as she rolled out of bed. Her legs felt heavy as she drug them to the bathroom, kicking the discarded red hoodie out of the way. After freshening up, she made her way to the wide wardrobe across from the bed.
"Day-old tank-top and jeans are so not the look," she thought. The wardrobe doors swung open under her pull.
A blast of light nearly threw Sarah back. Rather, the reflection of light that glittered, shimmered, sparkled and shone out at her. The triple-wide closet was stuffed full of gowns. Sarah squealed in glee as she ran her hand across the material. Velvet, cotton, silk, chiffon… This was like her every dream as a little girl.
"Playing dress up while I'm here won't hurt anyone…" she surmised with a good-humored smile. She snatched up a gown of blue chiffon and quickly slipped into it. The delicate fabric was like butterfly kisses on her skin. Sarah investigated a large chunk of white to the right side of the wardrobe; a large array of pantaloons etcetera brought a grateful flush to her face.
"He thought of everything," she said out loud.
After a twirl on tiptoes, dress ballooning out like a flower blossom, the room seemed brighter than before. Sarah had no clue what time it was, but it must be morning; time to explore.
Sarah skipped out of her room only to be stopped short; at the end of the hall, a male goblin knight stood watch while a lady goblin sat on a stool. It was a seemingly strange pair, each one standing guard, as it were, on their opposite sides of the hallway. The knight's rigid posture broke for a moment as he turned towards her. The lady goblin's hands were folded neatly in her lap. A smile spread across her orange-brown face when she turned towards Sarah, and she stood and smoothed out the front of her skirt.
"Good morning, ma'am," the goblin greeted her. The knight tapped his spear on the ground in agreement. Sarah noticed the lilt of the goblin's accent was similar to Jareth's by the way she said ma'am like "mum" and her soft, rounded r's. "My name is Ziva. I'm to be your handmaiden. I shall accompany you throughout the castle."
Sarah waited for the goblin to explain further, ask a question, continue with information, or even let the knight speak, but she simply stared at Sarah with bulbous back eyes. The little beast's pale, blonde eyebrows were raised expectantly, and the goblin knight remained silent. Sarah could see his brow furrowed in nearly comical concentration, as if standing at attention took all his effort.
"So…" began Sarah, "I can't imagine needing a handmaiden." Sarah didn't want to hurt Ziva's feelings, but she also didn't want someone trying to serve her.
"Oh ma'am, it's an awfully big place the Goblin Castle is, you'll want someone to at least show you around."
Sarah cocked her head in consideration; Ziva had a good point.
"That's true," Sarah agreed. "Why don't we get some breakfast."
"Right, ma'am. I'll have us set up in a dining room straight away, and the kitchen will send some vittles soon enough. Right this way, ma'am."
Ziva bowed her head and made a wide gesture with her arm. Sarah stepped tentatively past the knight; was this one of the mounts who had charged them in the battle against the rocks? He bowed as she walked past, so bygones must be bygones—regardless how chaotic the bygones had been.
The long corridors of stone wove their way to a modest parlor bathed in early morning light. Ziva motioned towards a settee.
"I'll be right back," she said before disappearing through the oaken double doors at the far end of the room.
Sarah shifted excitedly in her seat. This room seemed uncharacteristically bright for the Goblin Castle. Little rainbows twinkled through the crystal windows. Jareth had managed to keep the goblins' schmutz and stench away from this corner of the castle…
Only moments after she had departed, Ziva opened the doors again and hung between them by the handles.
"Breakfast is served." With a deep bow she released the doors, which swung open under the push of two more goblin attendants. Amazed, Sarah floated to her feet and drifted through the doors as a flurry of goblins skittered about carrying vats of steaming liquids, plates of entrees, and swashes of colored napkins and cloths. A butler goblin, who looked no tidier than usual aside from his wispy hair combed to the side like a man's attempt to hide his balding brow, pulled out a chair.
"Madame," he offered in a gravely voice. Sarah seated herself while two more goblins scrambled to help push her human-weighted chair into the table. Carafes of steaming coffees and chocolates were placed before her along with platters of fruits and nuts. Sarah's eyes practically sparked, dazzled by her dress, the castle, the royal treatment, the food.
The enchantment disappeared as if a vacuum sucked the air out of a room. The thick, brown liquid which did indeed smell like hot chocolate, bubbled poisonously in its carafe with an appropriately matching green tint. One of the fruits appeared to have tentacles—and they were moving.
"Oh, s'alright, miss, don't you worry about the squoddle fruit. It just looks dangerous," said Ziva, noticing Sarah's wide-eyed horror. Ziva swatted the strange fruit with a wooden spoon. Sarah jumped, and she swore the fruit squealed, but it stopped moving. "It's good," added Ziva, noticing her action had done nothing to assuage Sarah's reservation. The goblin bit off a segment—tentacle—and handed the remaining fruit to Sarah. Sarah gulped, but took the maroon fruit, holding it with two fingers as if it could bite back. A drop of sticky pink juice fell from the fruit when she broke off a segment before popping it in her mouth.
Her eyes lit up as the sweetness spread across her tongue. It was something like a mix between a sweet potato and a ripe strawberry. She ate the rest and dabbed at the corners of her mouth with a linen napkin.
"That was delicious!" she thanked Ziva enthusiastically. The goblin bowed her head and excused herself from the table.
What goblin cuisine lacked in presentation, it made up for in taste. Creepy fruits and fearsome looking nuts and veggies were a rainbow of tastes on Sarah's tongue. Sarah poured her second mug of hot chocolate—or something akin to chocolate, although it had a note of ginger or something earthy yet spicy. She was growing more self-conscious by the second; all the goblins had retreated back to the room perimeters, only approaching to serve her. They said nary a word, except the occasional belch, and Sarah once more shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She loved the princess treatment, but she felt lonely sitting by herself. The long, broad table was like an empty street, like a place you found yourself walking without meaning to; Sarah wished someone would join her.
As if answering her prayers, Jareth swept into the room.
"Jareth!" Sarah cried, leaping to her feet.
The smile dropped from her face one she saw the king's stormy eyes. His jaw was set in a hard line, and a belated gust of wind followed him to billow out his auburn cape. Sarah followed suit when he sunk into the chair across from her.
"Is something wrong?" she asked. Jareth rubbed his brow with one hand while the other gripped the arm of his dining chair. A carafe of coffee in front of him rose to hover above the tabletop and magically pour itself into a mug .
"Pardon my…informal greeting. I took inventory of the Labyrinth all last night and this morning. I don't mean to breach the boundaries of etiquette, but the Labyrinth did not get through yesterday unscathed."
Sarah's mouth ran dry. Jareth didn't touch his cup.
"What do you mean?"
"At least one Firey has disappeared. Three goblins, all of whom I know by name, and several steeds from the goblin stables. A satyr, and an entire patch of forest preceding the Bog of Eternal Stench has been wiped clean; it's nothing but stone. Bare and barren…" Jareth's voice drifted into nothingness as his eyes looked far away.
"And…" he continued, "the Wiseman. We've lost the Wiseman."
Sarah gasped. "Jareth, I'm so sorry."
"Loss was to be expected," he said monotone. "Actions have consequences."
"This is not your fault," said Sarah, determined to prevent him from blaming himself.
"No?" he asked, his voice still devoid of any emotion. "Who's then? Yours?"
Sarah gasped, her jaw snapping shut. Before she could speak, the king held up his hand.
"Forgive me. I forgot myself in my grief. No, I suppose it is no one's fault, but I cannot help but think how I could've prevented it."
Sarah nodded her head, accepting the apology, and took a bread roll from a platter. Jareth sipped his coffee—or whatever the Labyrinth equivalent was.
"How long had you known the Wiseman?" asked Sarah. Her throat tightened as she realized he would've been a source of information on how to get out of this place, but now was not the time to be selfish.
"He is the only being I can't remember meeting. He was always there, somehow. The goblins are not immortal, I don't know if even I am immortal, but the Wiseman…somehow it seemed like he had been there forever."
Sarah raised her mug. "To the Wiseman then."
A faint smile hinted at the corners of Jareth's mouth. "The Wiseman."
They drank their respective beverages in silence for a few moments. The air seemed to clear as the attending goblins inched closer to present the king with a hard-boiled egg with the top already been taken off—except the egg was mostly green and five times the size of a regular chicken egg.
"Did he have a name?" asked Sarah.
Jareth laughed. "You know, if he did, I never knew it and he had already forgotten it."
They both laughed. Warmth seemed to spread through the room. "Anyway," Jareth continued. "How did you sleep?"
"Quite well, all things considered. My quarters are marvelous, really, they're more than I ever could've asked for."
"I see you found a dress that suits you," he said, his eyes flicking down to the blue chiffon.
"Ah, yes," Sarah blushed. "The gowns are gorgeous. Thank you."
"And you look gorgeous in them."
Sarah's eyes were caught once more in his multicolored gaze. She quickly looked at her plate, feeling the blush rise further up her neck and to her face. Jareth leaned back and enjoyed the becoming flush splashed across her cheeks.
"You…you said you didn't know if you were immortal or not. How can you not know?" Sarah continued on, trying to take the conversation in a less exposing direction.
"I just don't. I don't have a beginning, or at least not one that I can remember."
"What?!" asked Sarah in surprise, too stunned to be embarrassed by her own unguarded shock.
"It's true. I have knowledge of my Fae blood, and knowledge of my role here in the Labyrinth, but I couldn't tell you more than that. I no longer remember the beginning. Things are the way they always have been." The goblins brought the king another silver napkin after he wiped his hands and discarded the old one. He had finished his egg and moved onto what looked like bacon and sausage, despite the purplish color of the meats.
"Surely you must know something of your origins? Most people don't remember lots of their childhood, yet they have the knowledge of things that happened," said Sarah.
"And how was said knowledge acquired? Did their parents tell them stories of their youth? Did they regale their histories to friends and acquaintances, solidifying it in their minds? I suppose most people who have knowledge of their past also have parents. And friends." Jareth's face fell.
"The goblins are your friends," Sarah tried.
"Yes, I don't deny it. Parents and equals then. I don't exactly discuss the emotional difficulty of assisting dragon parents with dud eggs, or choosing between saving a dwarf village from an avalanche or forest from burning when both happen at the same time."
Jareth's tone was heated and his voice clipped.
"But there have to be others like you here? Right?" Sarah tried again.
"No, I am the only of my kind here. The only Fair Folk without a 'folk.' I'm alone."
His voice changed from offended to bitter to sad. Perhaps sad was too bland a word for the pale color that twinged his last two words. Lonely, forgotten, regretful perhaps, but oh so much more than sad. He leaned back again and his face settled into a reserved acceptance, as if the state of his loneliness was too exhausting to shed tears over.
"What about the ball? Were those people…"
"Goblins," finished Jareth. "A little dream realm I created based off your very real dreams. Gentry pretending to be goblins would tickle your fancy, you always did love dress-up. But, in reality, they were goblins pretending to be gentry. I just glamored them, gave them human bodies for a while. They had great fun, you know." A smirk twitched on Jareth's lips.
"I'm glad someone did," muttered Sarah, crossing her arms.
Jareth toasted her with his coffee and drank the rest of his mug, the good-natured sparkle returned to his eyes.
Sarah, annoyed as she was, couldn't help but feel a pang of pity stab her heart. She had always thought the king was a loosy-goosy type, the kind of manchild to shirk off any responsibility that fell on his shoulders. But, she was slowly realizing there was more to the Labyrinth and its protection than she thought, and there was more to Jareth…
"So, what should we do today?" asked Sarah.
"I was hoping you'd tell me. I still need to do another patrol of the Labyrinth after breakfast, but perhaps we can take tea later, or dine together for supper, should my search take longer than expected."
Sarah suppressed a blush; she had meant what should they do about finding a way to get her home. But, spending time together could be nice. And he obviously had a lot on his plate, especially since he had lost some of his citizens.
"That sounds nice," she said quietly. A gentle smile brushed her lips like a feather. The king smiled back, not missing the fact she was pleased. Sarah tilted her head down, dropping her gaze. Somehow, she felt like he could see right through her sometimes. Like he knew her as well as she knew herself; he had seen her dreams. She decided last minute to look at him, but kept her head tilted down in uncertain demure. "Be safe out there."