A quiet chapter. A lovely, long tea-time conversation between Sarah and Jareth.
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"Hello, Ziva, is Jareth in?"
"Not yet, miss," said the goblin, already waiting inside the Labyrinth doors.
"Alright then." Sarah had just said goodbye to Hoggle, who had declined to come inside the castle. His feelings for the king were still not exactly cordial.
The castle walls, despite being barren and cold, no longer seemed so austere. As she walked back to her bedroom, Sarah thought the castle was beginning to feel like the Labyrinth: like home. Friendly, familiar, and something meant to explore.
Sarah sat down at the desk in her little office and held her breath for a moment, thinking about what she needed to do.
"Paper," she said, placing both palms flat on the desk and pushing herself to rising.
She went and flipped through the books on her bookshelf, her fingers skittering across each spine of the many volumes that brought a smile to her face every time she looked at them. Still, she wished at least one of them was a notebook.
She headed back to the study, stumbling over the edge of the manticore pelt as she did. A little chill passed over her shoulders; she shrugged it off, but her head drooped.
"I miss being able to walk around home with my eyes closed. I miss knowing every nook and cranny. But you'll get used to it here—no, you'll get home. You'll get…" Sarah let her thoughts drift off as she rounded the corner to the office. "What the—"
On the desk was a fat roll of parchment. She pulled a single sheet from the roll and straightened it out on the desk, staring at the tan paper like a wonder. "Well I'll be…" She hadn't wished out loud, but the Labyrinth had still been listening. "Thanks, I guess," she said quietly. Magic like this was something she could get used to.
The quill clinked in the glass as she dipped it into the ink. "Mamma Olma" she wrote. She wanted to make a list of people and things who could help her escape without running the Labyrinth.
"Personal library"
"Castle archives?"
"PeoplewholivedUndergroundforalongtime—"
"Ugh!" she cried, resisting the urge to slam the quill down. So, her list of knowledgeable assets was few and far between. But, at least she knew the Labyrinth rules. Even if there weren't a whole lot of people who knew the Labyrinth, there were certainly enough people who knew about magic. Or perhaps vice-versa.
"Wishing. Wishing self away. Wishing someone/something else away. Undoing the wish = running the Labyrinth. Losing the Labyrinth = wish comes true."
Sarah began listing all the things she knew about the Labyrinth. "Certain powers," she jotted down. Maybe they didn't need to know any more about the Labyrinth; maybe this was a puzzle, and they had all the pieces—the trick was putting the pieces together.
Sarah didn't know how long she'd been sitting there, but three pages of journaling and lists later, a knock rapped on her door. "Come in," she yelled, hopping up to receive presumably Ziva; she presumed wrong. "Jareth?"
The king stood tall and straight, but a blush peeked up over the edge of his collar. "Sarah. I hope you've had a nice morning." The king stood rigid, as if relaxing would betray some unsaid words, some unshown affection. His auburn cape seemed to waver on its own without need for a breeze. His copper vest shimmered over a brown silk shirt so dark it was nearly black. Brown knee-high boots—sans high-heel, this time—were layered over cream leggings with a familiar spiderweb pattern of tan veining. His medallion glinted out from the deep V-neckline; somehow, thought Sarah, this color-palette suited the necklace better. It looked less fearful and more magical rather than ominous.
"I did, thank you. Hoggle showed me Dwarf Town, since it's technically part of the Goblin City and wouldn't jeopardize my Run."
A shadow of uncertainty passed across Jareth's eyes, but the sight of Sarah before him, unharmed, quickly calmed his nerves.
"It sounds like you had a nice time. I'm glad." Sarah smiled at Jareth. He shuffled his toes around and looked out the window. A moment of awkward silence passed between them before the king cleared his throat. "I was wondering if you'd like to take tea with me. Now. If you want."
Sarah almost couldn't hold back a giggle at Jareth's obvious discomfort, but spared him the embarrassment and pursed her lips tightly together.
"I'd like that very much. I had a sort of brunch with Hoggle, and I've been journaling since."
Jareth let his shoulders lower a little. "Brilliant. I can escort you at once." A wide, unguarded smile lit up his entire face. He turned towards the door and extended an elbow to her, which she took with a bow of her head. "Journaling?" he continued. "What do you journal about?" he asked as they crossed through the doorway.
"I—" Sarah's answer was cut short when a slight gust of wind brushed through her hair as they teleported. "Oh my!" gasped Sarah.
"Oh my goodness, Sarah, I'm so sorry. I'll try to warn you next time. It's just—"
"Habit?" asked Sarah with an amused smirk, her bearings once more under her feet; they were standing on a stony balcony. "It's really ok. You think I'd be used to it by now."
Jareth chuckled in relief. He cleared his throat again, "I hope you don't mind taking tea outside. It's a rather nice day, wouldn't you say?"
"Not at all, and definitely!" she said enthusiastically.
"Well then…" Jareth gestured behind Sarah, where two chairs and a full tea service on a dainty table were set.
Sarah let out a happy little exclamation. She immediately recognized the balcony as the one from the night she arrived, the one with the windowless arches where she had agreed to stay. It appeared much more friendly in the daylight, and the addition of the beautiful tea set helped create the amiable mood. The set was beautiful. Fine white china with blue painted flowers shone brightly under the porcelain glaze. Steam rose from the spout of voluptuous teapot. Cream and sugar stood at attention, guarding a silver platter of tea sandwiches, crumpets, and tiny cookies.
"You asked me what I was writing about, said Sarah as she sat. "I don't journal regularly, though I love to write about major or unexpected events in my life, but I've decided to keep track of all the information I gather on the Labyrinth and wishing."
"Occupying your time with finding a way to leave. I see," said Jareth as he poured her a cup of pinkish tea. His eyes dropped to avoid her gaze and his voice was twinged with sadness.
"Yes," Sarah smiled gently, taking her tea from Jareth's hands. Their fingers brushed softly, causing Jareth's eyes to flick up and meet hers. She took a careful sip, keeping eye contact. "Thank you, it's delicious. What is it?"
"Rosehip, rose petal, and another flower that I can't remember. Hemp blossom maybe?"
"How normal," giggled Sarah. "After the squoddle fruit, I thought all Underground fruits and veggies were exotic."
"Not quite. We have roses just like the Aboveground. Daisies, pansies, you name it. Many flowers and fruits the very same as in your world. Though might I remind you—squoddle fruit is local. You, my dear, are the exotic one."
They both laughed, diffusing the king's sadness. Sarah didn't want to disillusion him about her presence; she loved the Labyrinth, she loved her friends, but she wanted to go home. Or at least, she didn't want to be trapped. Sarah cleared her throat.
"You told me no one who's ever wished themselves away has ever run the Labyrinth for themselves. Why?"
"Well, you have to understand, it's a pretty desperate situation if you'd rather goblins come and snatch you away. Most wishers preferred their odds here. There were, of course, the occasional spoiled brat or 'deadbeat dad,' as you say. Plenty of ungrateful children and reluctant parents who were immediately full of regret, but none of them had the courage to run."
Sarah sipped her tea, taking a moment to process this. Her heart broke for all the desperate people who wished themselves away. And for those who ran for their loved ones but didn't succeed; the love of others truly shone brighter and more nobly than selfish love.
"How often do you get a runner?" she asked.
"Often enough. Nowadays, a few Aboveground years sometimes pass before a wish is made, but they still happen. In the old days, there were often multiple in a week. To be honest, we're kinda glad for the break."
"Interesting…" Sarah's eyes sparkled with curiosity. She could just imagine the adventures people would've had. Even if they didn't have a happy ending, experiencing magic was like nothing else.
"There are so, so many different creatures here in the Labyrinth; where do they come from?"
"Well, certain races and populations have been around…well, I can't say for certain if they've been around forever, but for as long or almost as long as humans, I don't doubt. Dwarves, goblins, satyrs, dryads. The sentient animals, like Sir Didymus, sometimes just…happen. The spirit of the Labyrinth is contagious, in a way, and the creatures it creates can be both beautiful and horrible. Magic affects all it touches. Think of it as fast-track evolution."
"That must be lonely if you end up being one-of-a-kind."
"But, you don't need others of your kind," Jareth said quietly.
Sarah smiled sadly. "No, I suppose not. Just look at me and Hoggle and Didymus and Ludo. As fast as friends can be, all while being as different as friends can be."
"I'll say," said Jareth with a chuckle. Amiable silence passed between them as they sipped tea and snacked on crumpets. Jareth stole a few awkward glances at Sarah, which she pretended she didn't see—and which he pretended she didn't see. Jareth cleared his throat. "So, how have you been keeping? Since I saw you last?"
"Oh, you know. Pretty well. I love what I do, really, I love it. Directing is so fulfilling, and the theater world is like my home on-the-go. I'm really blessed. Really." Sarah stopped, the silence noticeably empty, as if she had wanted to say more.
"Buuut…" tried Jareth.
"What do you mean 'but?'" Sarah asked, feigning confusion.
"It seems like 'fulfilling' isn't synonymous with 'satisfying.' If I may."
"It's not that. I love my work and my jobs. I really do, I can't imagine myself not doing it. It's just once the work is over and I go home at the end of the day, something is…lacking, somehow."
"Ever thought of getting a pet?" Jareth quipped sarcastically.
"No," Sarah giggled, "my schedule is too erratic. And besides, I've got Toby and my parents to keep me company. It just feels like there should be more, like somehow this can't possibly be it, you know?"
"I…" Jareth thought for a moment. "I can't say that I do."
"Well, I know. And besides, why are you asking when you've probably been watching," Sarah said grumpily. She grabbed another tea sandwich.
"Actually, you'll find I haven't been spying on you—"
"Aha! You admit you were spying on me!" Jareth let out a sardonic "ha."
"But," he continued, ignoring her remark. "I do check in every once in a while. Just to see what you're doing. Make sure that you're alright." His voice grew timid. Sarah held back a laugh, she had never seen the man so adorably shy.
"How long have you 'known' me before I knew you?" asked Sarah, both afraid and exhilarated to hear the answer.
"Since your mother left."
Sarah gasped. The day her mother left, Sarah hadn't even gotten a goodbye. A note and a heartbroken explanation from her father, but no proper goodbye. She'd run to the park and bawled her eyes out. When she felt like she had no more tears to cry, she'd sniffled, picked herself up, and pulled what would soon become her favorite book out of her backpack.
"The Labyrinth," said Sarah. "I read The Labyrinth that day. Did you send it to me?"
"No no, one of your parents picked it up in a shop like normal. The author is some random human touched by the magic that leaks through the cracks into your world. Our worlds exist in parallel, but they are connected in some way. Magically. There are riffs, you could say."
Sarah closed her gaping jaw. The Underground was full of surprises.
"Jareth," she said, slowly realizing something irksome, "I was eight."
"Yes, yes, don't say it like I'm some degenerate! I've watched numerous humans of every age and creed. You're a fascinating species. A funny little group, and I find you amusing. So I watch. But you're the first that I ever—" Jareth stopped short.
"Hm?" Sarah nudged.
Jareth gulped. What could he say? He dare not finish the sentence.
"…the first that I ever continued watching, of course," he said out loud. But, in his mind, he finished the original thought.
"The first that I ever fell in love with."
Meanwhile, Sarah was trying to resist the urge to report stranger-danger—but she calmed herself.
"He's immortal. Age is irrelevant. And it's not like he groomed me or anything, and there's no way he was in love with eight-year-old me." Sarah continued out loud. "Well, I'm so happy you found me amusing," she said with a good-natured smile.
"I still do," he said with a smirk, toasting his tea towards her. Sarah toasted back and finished hers.
"I can still remember that day like it was yesterday. Friday the 13th, June, 1986. It would be Friday the 13th, wouldn't it? Mischief and bad luck abound. Ninth grade had finished up on the previous Friday, and I turned sixteen two days later on the eighth."
"Happy belated birthday," he chuckled. "I don't understand how grades and ages and your schools systems work."
"I'll explain it to you some time," Sarah said, humor coloring her voice brightly. "I was held back a grade after my mother left. I just couldn't cope, and I blamed my father for some reason. I recovered quickly though, saying it was just the 'artist's way.' I had this whole story in my mind how she was sacrificing her life with me for 'her art,' that she was noble and didn't actually want to leave. At the end of the day, she hadn't ever wanted to be a mother. After the Labyrinth I finally came to accept that. Her yearly birthday phone-call didn't come the next year. And I haven't really given her much thought since."
"You're strong."
Sarah's breath caught in her throat. The king had said it so suddenly, so directly. She felt tears pressing the backs of her eyes.
"Thank you, Jareth. That's very kind of you."
He toasted her again.
"You know," he continued, "I really did think you'd be better off without the baby."
"What?!" Sarah nearly spilled her tea. "How could you possibly think that?"
"You know. You didn't seem to like the little worm very much, and if your mother never come back, at least you'd be an only child again."
"The worm is named Toby, and how could you think turning a child into a goblin was better than a teenager having to whine for a few more years?"
"He would've been well taken care of!"
"I don't care!" Sarah had to stop herself from slamming her cup onto the table. "That's just crazy, I was a kid!"
"Yes, but you wanted what you wanted."
"I thought I wanted. A child's fantasy and reality are two different things."
"Come come now, Sarah. I don't think about things the way you humans do. The world is much more black and white to me. Everything I've done, I've done for you."
"Yes, you've said." Sarah rolled her eyes. "I don't think everything you did was for my benefit; you were pretty menacing."
"Menacing? How so?" The king looked genuine perplexed.
"I mean that entrance you made that night—"
"Bah! I wasn't menacing, I was just impartial."
"The snake?"
"I'm meant to challenge you! The magic of the Labyrinth is tied into emotion; most people have to face their fears."
"You said most."
"Yes, well," Jareth took a long sip. He chose this moment to be silent and poured another cup of tea, taking another long sip. "You had to face your desires. With you, it was about selfishness and selflessness."
"I…" Sarah didn't know how to respond to such a personal revelation about herself, or the fact that the king knew such a personal revelation. "Well, the cleaners were a bit much."
"Hoggle was helping you, the odds had to be balanced. And as I already explained, no one actually dies during a Run."
"You know, you terrified me in those tunnels."
"I thought I was just being suave. Flirtatious."
"Maybe from your perspective. For a teenage girl, you were pretty scary."
"And yet, I counted as your dark desire." Jareth smiled wide and shameless. Sarah turned a lovely shade of tomato.
"Yes—well—that—I… I think the ball could've been dangerous."
"The goblins wouldn't have harmed you."
"I meant you tried to kiss me."
Now it was Jareth whose face reddened. "That…was not part of the plan. But it was not outside of the rules!"
"Again, I was a child. You don't go kissing teenagers."
"I-I-I know that, now," stuttered Jareth, his knuckles white as he gripped his tea cup. "My feelings got the best of me. But I'm immortal, as far as I know, and age doesn't matter when you have access to the innermost world and dreams of a person. Their substance doesn't change, no matter how much they grow."
"That's lovely, I'm sure. But, it's still wrong."
"Yes, yes it is." Jareth looked at her earnestly. "May I take this time to officially apologize."
Sarah almost choked on her cookie. "Oh… Um, apology accepted. Thank you. But I still have a bone to pick with you! That Escher room was—"
"Just another challenge and, as I already explained, no one would've died."
"Harm was possible though?"
"Oh don't nitpick." Jareth kicked his legs out in front of him and slid down further in his chair, a mischievous smile playing on his lips.
"When you offered me my dreams—"
"I meant it," Jareth cut her off, sitting up straight. "Toby would've remained, had you accepted. We would've been married. You would've had balls and courts and everything fit for a queen."
"Princess," Sarah corrected.
"Bah," Jareth humbugged again, "Queen. Yes, I was upset you had bested me. But I was, truthfully, offering you your dreams."
"I mean, if I lost, or if I won even, what's the use of having my wish granted and parents all to myself if I would've been stuck here in the Underground?" Sarah sassed.
"Actually—" started Jareth. He bit the inside of his cheek, almost revealing too much. The girl knew enough as it was.
"Actually what?" Sarah asked.
"Actually, I think you worry too much about what could've been," he feigned.
"I'm not worrying," continued Sarah, unaware of Jareth's slip. "I'm just bringing up a problematic past that needs to be discussed, if we're to bear being around each other and move on. And besides, I'm curious; you really would've married me?" she queried incredulously.
"Yes, of course. I…" Jareth again couldn't finish that sentence. She knew how he felt; it was her response that frightened him. Would she say she didn't feel the same way? Would she laugh at him? The possibilities were too frightening. "I've changed. I had forgotten myself in my ardor, and I would never conduct myself that way again. But I'll still be running the Labyrinth as I always have, providing challenges and playing by the rules—nothing malicious, though. You have my word."
Sarah smiled. "Thank you, Jareth." She toasted him. He bowed his head in response.
"Why don't you tell me a little bit about the Labyrinth and its inhabitants. Not about the wishes and running that happened. About everyone who call this place home. About your home."
Jareth smiled and told her about the Fireys and their dances. About a family of dragons that inhabited the small yet craggy and cave-filled mountains behind the castle. About fairies and talking trees and dancing naiads. He told her stories of his day-to-day travels throughout the maze. Sometimes real problems like rockslides, stopped up streams, sickness, fire, etc. etc. would challenge him, but the inhabitants were mostly peaceful.
In turn, Sarah told him about her job. About her favorite plays, her favorite stories and actors to tell them. The mishaps of theater and triumphs of her career, and how she loved each city she was blessed to work in. Just to make a point that Toby turned out well as a little boy, not as a goblin, she talked about Toby and how he just wouldn't stop growing most of all. Sarah got to experience everything again for the first time through his eyes, and the bright and beautiful world seemed new and exciting to his child's-heart. She couldn't imagine life without him.
"Sir," came a voice from behind them. They turned to see a goblin knight standing at attention. "Pardon the intrusion; the kitchen was wondering if you'd be joining them for dinner."
"Is it dinner time already?" asked Jareth as he rose.
"Time flies when you're having fun," said Sarah as she also stood and stretched her arms high. The goblin's eyes flicked nervously between the two humanoids, unsure what to do about the casual conversation.
"Tell them we'll be down shortly—that is, if you'll join me?" Jareth turned towards Sarah with nervous expectation. The low light made the chartreuse and icy blue of his eyes softer, and their wide expectation cast a look of innocence across his face. Sarah couldn't help but smile.
"It'd be my pleasure," she said with a curtesy. He offered her his arm.
"Your Majesty," the knight said with a bow before scurrying off to relay the message. Sarah took Jareth's arm.
"I suppose we should walk slowly to give them a moment to prepare," said Jareth.
Sarah grinned up at him warmly.
"I don't mind at all."
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