'What You Wish For' Part IV
Title: What You Wish For
Fandom: Labyrinth
Word Count: 29, 980
Rating: PG-13
Genre: General/Drama
Summary: Years after defeating the labyrinth, Sarah is still haunted by dreams of the Underground. She has tried to grow up and leave her childish fantasies behind her, but in sleep, she can't escape them, no matter how much she wants to -- or needs to.
Thanks to whydah and sapphistscot for beta-ing and helping shape the story.
The little light that made its way through the gnarled branches was dim now. Sarah stifled a yawn as she tried to work out how many hours were left but time moved so differently here that it was hard to tell. She was almost beginning to wish for Jareth to show up, just so long as he brought a clock with him. She had been walking through these woods for hours -- she was certain of that, although she didn't seem to be getting any closer to the castle -- and her body was protesting the journey. She could feel the swell of blisters on her feet, and the sharp pain where the skin of her heels had ripped against her shoes. The muscles in her legs felt heavy and tired; her neck tight and tense. The pain was next to nothing compared with how hungry she was, though. She hadn't eaten or drank anything since about four or five in the morning -- although she couldn't tell how many hours ago that had been. Ten? Twelve? Long enough that her body was noticing it. That was why the little brick cottage she had stumbled upon, alone in the middle of a small clearing, had seemed like a god-send at first. She was hoping the owner would be kind enough to give her something to eat and let her use the bathroom (please, please don't let it be an out-house) before she had to carry on, but when she drew closer to it, it became obvious that the owner wasn't the type of person who liked unexpected company. A wooden fence, postered plastered with a series of 'Keep Out' signs, guarded a well-tended garden and she could see keyholes for several locks in the front door. She supposed that someone living alone in the middle of the woods was someone who didn't want to tolerate neighbours, but the heavy shutters completely blocking any light from the windows seemed a little much. After a moment's hesitation, Sarah walked up and chapped on the door anyway, hoping they might be more friendly than they seemed, but if anybody was in, they didn't answer. She sighed, resolving herself to a long, hungry journey. She walked around the side of the house and stopped, frozen, when she saw the peach tree.
It was thick and crooked, standing a good few feet taller than she was, but the branches were so laden with fruit that they drooped down to just within her arm's reach. Pink flowers blossomed out around the fruit. A gentle breeze pulled some petals loose and spun them through the air in a burlesque dance. The scent of the peaches caught on the wind and surrounded her, and she winced. She had been wary of peaches for years now, ever since the first time she had come to the labyrinth and she had eaten a drugged one. She eyed the tree cautiously, not sure if she should really be eating another one. She wasn't even sure she could -- the smell was making her feel queasy. But then, she wasn't very likely to find anything else to eat in this place, and it could be hours and hours yet until she reached the castle. She frowned, struggling with the choice. Hoggle had told her that Jareth had given the drugged peach to him to give her -- this, she reasoned, was a tree growing on someone's private property. It couldn't be drugged; it couldn't have the same effect on her. Her stomach gave another growl and, feeling light-headed from having so little sleep and running so far through the labyrinth, she made her decision. Reaching out, she plucked a plump, fleshy one from the tree. She was surprised at the weight of it in her hand. It was perfect; not too firm and not too soft, and perfectly formed, too. She eyed it suspiciously for a moment, a thought at the back of her mind warning her that it was too perfect, and that nothing was what it seemed in this place. But, no -- no, she was just being paranoid because of what had happened last time. Wasn't she? There was no way... Was there? She sighed, impatient with herself. She needed to eat, she really did. Just a few bites would give her the energy she so desperately needed at this point to make it out of the woods. Resolving herself to it, Sarah brought the fruit to her lips and, trying not to take notice of the smell or the taste, trying to hold back the overwhelming rush of memories, bit deeply into it. She paused for a moment, as if waiting for the sky to suddenly fall, but nothing happened. Relieved, she began to chew on her mouthful slowly, growing more and more confident, and then swallowed. And then she collapsed.
--
Sarah was walking through an empty ballroom, her footsteps echoing loudly all around her. How had she gotten here? She couldn't remember. What was she doing again? She couldn't shake the feeling that she was forgetting something, as if she was meant to be looking for something but she didn't know what it was. It was as if she were in a dream; she knew she had a purpose, but not what it was. It was blurry and undefined in her mind. Trying to remember what it was felt like trying to catch smoke, and whenever she caught a hold of it, it disappeared immediately, melting away from her. But she felt light-headed and too tired to worry about it now. She was sure she would remember what it was once she saw it.
The room seemed eerily familiar. Chandeliers, dripping with expensive-looking beads and jewels, hung just above her head and tall metal candelabras, with jewelled strings stretched across them like cob-webs, blocked the floor. Sarah looked around in quiet awe. The entire room was monochromatic, as if all the colour had burned away and all that was left was just a blur of grey. There wasn't even any discernable black or white -- only shades of grey. The room was drenched in shadow. Flickering flames barely lifted the darkness but there wasn't much to see. There were no doors or windows, just smooth wall all around her, decorated with torn veils and strings of beads. She crossed the floor slowly, taking it all in. The tall heels of her shoes tapped loudly against the stone floor as she went and the noise filled the room, as if there were hundreds of dancers.
She caught a glimpse of movement in the shadows at the back of the room and ran towards it, thinking vaguely that she had found what she was supposed to be looking for. A woman, dressed in an elaborate white ball gown, stood in the shadows, regal and proud. She was beautiful. Her neck and wrists were weighted with pearls and a delicate jewelled crown rested on a bed of hair strewn with silver. Sarah took a step towards her and the woman took a step, too. Sarah stopped, and then, for the first time, noticed it was just a mirror. She looked critically at her reflection, trying to see something she recognised, but the face was like a stranger's. The reflection seemed older than she was, more mature. Something in her posture, in the way she held herself. It didn't look anything like her. Sarah gave a sigh of disappointment, and her reflection, trapped inside an elaborate silver frame, sighed back. She began to turn away, thinking she should check the rest of the room for a door or a way out, but she stopped, frowning, and looked back at the mirror. Something wasn't right. It took her a moment to realise that her reflection wasn't turning with her. She raised a hand to touch the glass, thinking it couldn't possibly be real, but the surface was cold and solid under her palm. She began to trace her hands around the frame, looking for a way to open it as the reflection inside watched her with a quiet smile, folding its arms across its chest. Startled, she pushed at the glass and then began to pound on it, looking for a way inside, but it was just a normal, flat mirror. The reflection inside gave a soundless laugh and waved at her.
Sarah turned to walk away, unnerved, but there was another mirror right behind her. Had that been there before? She couldn't remember. She recognised the reflection inside this one, though. It was definitely her, but a younger version of her. It looked fourteen or fifteen, maybe. It was wearing a cardboard crown, cheap plastic pearls, and too many layers of thick, uneven lipstick. It was almost a mockery of the first mirror. Sarah stood rooted as it mouthed words she couldn't hear. She caught movement from the corner of her eye and turned to see another mirror, another reflection. It was younger, a lot younger, sitting on the bottom of the mirror and staring up past Sarah, into the mirrored surface at its mother behind it, who was brushing its hair and talking lowly. She turned quickly, trying to move past it, but more and more mirrors stood behind it, blocking her path. Reflections young and old, laughing, screaming, shouting, crying. All were wordless, but it was all directed, she knew, at her. Tears prickled at her eyes as she tried to shove her way through the mirrors, not caring if they broke, not caring if she hurt herself, but there were too many of them now. They were surrounding her, walling her in. She became frantic, kicking at the frames, clawing at the air behind them, desperate for a way out -- and then, as suddenly as they had appeared, they were gone. All but one. Sarah stood, breathing heavily for a moment, eyeing it warily. She wasn't reflected in this one. Instead, a man stood inside, tall and imposing. Long blond hair, streaked with blue, fell to his shoulders, and he was dressed in a brilliant, grandiose suit which sparkled as it caught the light. She didn't recognise him -- he was holding a mask over his face, which came to his cheeks and then cut off to show a sneering smile -- but she felt as if she knew him. (Was this who she had been looking for, she wondered idly.) She walked forward, watching the unmoving reflection curiously. She reached out a trembling hand to touch the glass, but there was none -- her hand came to rest on his chest. She pulled her hand back quickly, as if he'd burned her, and fell back a few steps in shock. His smile grew wider -- at her touch or her fear, she didn't know -- and he revealed a row of sharp, white teeth. They stood, watching each other silently, and suddenly it all felt very familiar. Her mouth felt dry. She hesitated for a moment and then moved forward again, stepping through the mirror frame. She raised a steady hand to take the mask off of him. He simply stood, still and compliant, as she took his hand in her own and pulled it down to his side, slowly revealing his face. First pale, smooth skin, then striking blue eyes, one pupil so much larger than the other that the entire eye looked dark in comparison. She knew him. She knew she knew him, but she wasn't sure why or where from -- but, then, it didn't seem to matter. He watched her with an infuriating half-smile that seemed to say everything and tell nothing at the same time, and it fascinated her. With slow, deliberate movements, he turned his wrist over so her palm, which had still been resting on top of the soft leather of his glove, was now nested in his. He kept his eyes locked onto hers, silently watching for a reaction as he slid his long fingers over the back of her hand, clasping it firmly in his. She never took her wide-eyed gaze off him as he deftly wrapped his other hand around the small of her back and drew her against his body. Her hips were pressed close to his and she could feel the heat of his skin through the thin material of her gown. He began to step in languid, smooth movements, leading her across the floor without ever taking his eyes off her face, gliding across the room. In an easy motion, he pulled out his arm and twirled her away from him. It was only when he spun her away that she realised they were dancing across the stage of an empty theatre. Had they been here the whole time? She didn't know, and as he gently pivotted pivoted her back on her feet, pulling her back against his chest, it didn't seem to matter. He bent low, his hair grazing across her cheek, and whispered in her ear, but it was hard to concentrate on what he was saying. She could feel his breath tickling against her neck and was all too aware of his hands on her body, holding her to his warmth and the soft drum of his heartbeat. His lips felt warm and dry as they brushed against her ear, forming kisses with every word: 'You little liar.'
She stiffened -- had she heard him right? He felt the movement and pulled her, roughly this time, closer to his chest.
'You feign such naivety, and yet here we are in your erotic, if banal, fantasy.'
She tried to pull away from him, but his arms were around her like a vice.
'I was hoping you would have progressed past the virginal dress. One would think you're playing the part of the blushing bride. The crown is a very nice addition, though, I must say. Almost fit for a queen. Which, I assume, was the intention.'
She tore out of his grip and stared at him, shocked by his insults. His name suddenly crashed into her head: 'Jareth!'
Smiling, he inclined his head in a contemptuous bow. 'So tell me, Sarah, when the proof is all around us, why do you pretend not to want this? Where would your fancy take us next? Hm? I do wonder.'
She pushed away from him and, grabbing up the hems of her dress, ran as fast as she could across the stage, his laughter echoing behind her. Tears welled in her eyes and she rubbed at them frantically, trying to see a way out of this place through the haze. A long mirror stood in front of her in a gilded frame, and she could see Jareth's reflection behind her own, sweeping towards her. Instinctively, she leapt through it, but this time, instead of a room, there was just darkness and the sensation of falling and falling although she didn't know what she was falling into...
--
She woke up with a jolt. Breathing heavily, her heart pumping furiously in her chest, it took Sarah a moment to realise she was lying in the mud at the foot of a large peach tree. The tree was nearly bare, most of the fruit had fallen all around her and burst open, the pulp and sticky juice covering her jeans and shoes. She blinked in confusion, trying to remember what had happened. Had that been real? Was any of this real? She didn't even know any more.
'Why, it can't be! My Lady!'
She blinked and tried to push herself up to look around, but a face suddenly sprung up in front of her, grinning widely. She fell back again in surprise but, as quickly as it had appeared, it vanished. Confused, Sarah pulled herself off the ground and stood. Looking down, she saw Sir Didymus was kneeling at her feet. He rose -- his diminutive frame barely coming to her knee -- and grinned. She stared at him, shocked at first, and then she began to laugh with delight. 'Sir Didymus!' She rushed forward and swept him into a tight hug. 'What are you doing here?'
'Why, it is my sworn duty to patrol these grounds, my Lady,' he said, momentously. 'I have taken an oath! As there no longer stands a bridge to guard, I have sworn, with my life's blood, that none shall pass through this forest without my permission.'
She tried not to giggle as he puffed out his chest with importance.
'May I have your permission?' she asked, remembering the fiasco that came with not asking the simple question sooner last time.
'Yes, my Lady,' he answered, bowing again. 'But to whence dost thou travel without an escort?'
'I need to get to the castle again, Didymus.' She looked at him and, remembering his love of 'noble quests', asked, 'Could you... take me there?'
'It would be an honour, Lady,' he answered.
'Thank you, noble sir,' she replied quickly.
'But -- my Lady,' he began, his one good eye wide with shock. 'You are injured! Who has done this to you? The scoundrel, I'll--' Words seemed to fail him at that point and he began to demonstrate just what he would do with a series of growls and lunges with his sword.
'I'm fine, really. It's just some bumps and bruises. I...' She frowned, wondering what had happened to her. 'I think I fell. I don't know, I was eating a peach and--'
'A peach, my Lady?' Didymus gave her a long, critical look. 'One would think, Lady, that one would have learned one's lesson about eating strange fruit.'
'But it was growing in this person's garden,' she sighed, gesturing at the tree beside them, 'and I thought--'
'You ate fruit from this tree, Lady?' Didymus asked over her.
'Yes, and--'
'Why, but this is valiant Sir Hoggle's garden!'
'This... this is Hoggle's garden?' Sarah turned, examining the house -- the shutters, the locks, the little garden -- and admonished herself for not seeing it sooner. But -- after giving her that drugged peach last time -- she was surprised that Hoggle hadn't taken a disliking to them just as much as she had.
'Yes, my Lady. I was here only yesterday to meet with Brother Ludo and Sir Hoggle, and no tree stood on this land, I would swear my life on it!'
She glared at the tree as another swollen fruit fell to the ground, smashing into pulp. Another trick of the labyrinth then. Jareth may not be able to hurt her or her friends, but he could certainly make himself a nuisance. She frowned as she thought it over. If Hoggle hadn't grown that tree, if the labyrinth or Jareth had put it there, did that mean he had planned for her to have that dream? And -- and if so... Had it been real? Had he really been there with her?
But that just brought up more questions. If it had been real, if he'd been dancing with her, so close she was sure he'd been about to kiss her at any moment -- butterflies seemed to rise in her stomach at the thought, but she tried to ignore them -- then why had he insulted her? Why had he ruined the, well, romance? Not that she wanted to be romantic with Jareth, of course not! He had kidnapped her brother and sent the Cleaners after her, and... and she shouldn't be attracted to him.
He had told her before -- and she still didn't know if she believed it, but he had told her -- that she could control the labyrinth. She didn't know how, but he'd said so. And he'd said that he and the labyrinth were connected, hadn't he? So... So, in her dream, could she have subconsciously made him insult her so she'd remember who he was and wake up? Her head had felt so hazy and she was going along with him so easily, but maybe -- latently -- she still knew who he was and knew she didn't want to be, well, romantic with him?
It was difficult to admit, now that she was awake and away from it all, just how far she had been willing to go along with him. Just what she had, well, wanted to happen. Had that really been her? Had she really been willing to give up so much, so easily? Or -- maybe it was another trick of Jareth's. Maybe he had been trying to seduce her and then her subconscious took over and made him speak like he normally would? (Or, her stomach sank at the thought, was it more likely to be the other way around?)
She couldn't begin to understand Jareth or how she felt about him. It was a confusion of raw emotions she didn't want to untangle. But she would never have to, she reminded herself. Once she solved the labyrinth, he would be out of her mind, and out of her dreams, and out of her life forever.
And frankly, it couldn't happen fast enough.
--
Didymus walked ahead of her up the little stone path of the cottage and chapped loudly on the door. She could hear a gruff voice grumbling inside, but she couldn't work out what it was saying. Eventually, the door swung open. Hoggle stood silently in the doorway, obviously surprised at first, but he quickly recovered and looked at them with a bored expression.
'Oh, it's you.' He turned away, walking back into a small kitchen. 'You'll be wanting in, I suppose.'
'My Lady has bequeathed my services as guide and protector on a noble mission to the castle!' Didymus beamed, trotting into the house as if he hadn't noticed Hoggle's mood. 'And she requests yourself and my brave Brother Ludo to join us in our quest!'
'Oh, has she?' Hoggle groused.
'Indeed!'
'Hello Hoggle,' Sarah said softly, smiling at him. If he had heard her, he ignored her completely, but she was just relieved to see that he was all right. Jareth had dumped them both in the Bog of Stench when she'd kissed him in gratitude, she was glad to see that he hadn't done worse after he'd helped her to the castle.
'Ludo's through there,' he muttered, gesturing towards an adjoining room. 'Eating half my cupboards, and probably the furniture to boot.'
Didymus ambled in, but Sarah stayed, watching Hoggle as he busied himself at the kitchen counter, putting a kettle onto boil and then returning to some half-chopped vegetables. He deliberately kept his back to her, not saying a word.
Eventually, she stepped forward, speaking softly. 'Are you mad at me? For not calling you?'
'I won't say I wasn't... hmm... well, I won't say I wasn't in any rate.' He threw down a tea towel and turned around to face her. 'You said we was friends, Sarah, an' I believed you.'
'We were! We are friends, Hoggle!'
'Then how comes you never called fer me? Or you never came ta see me all them times you came ta the lab'rinth?'
'How do you know about that?'
'Oh, the whole kingdom knows about it! The goblins don't do nothin' but prattle on about how you keep callin' fer Jareth.'
'It's not on purpose!' she cried at the expression on his face. 'I keep having dreams about it and he's in them--'
'Oh, is he?'
'It's not like I want him there.' She talked quickly, not stopping to consider whether or not that was true. 'I don't even want to have the dreams! That's why I need to solve the labyrinth, to stop them!'
'Well, you can forget about askin' me ta help you. I don't want none of your jewellery and none of of your plastic, an' nothin' you can say can change my mind.'
As he reached out to take the kettle off the boil, she realised he was still wearing her plastic bracelet -- the one she had given him years ago -- on his wrist. He saw it too and quickly pulled it off, thrusting it towards her. 'Here, you can take this back. I ain't your friend and I don't want it no more.'
'You are my friend, Hoggle,' she sighed, following him as he moved around the kitchen. 'And I'm sorry, but -- but I have to leave, don't you see? I can't keep dreaming about this place.'
'Well, I ain't helpin' ya to the castle so ya can go ahead an' forget all about me. No. If ya want help, ya can look someplace else for it.'
Ludo burst through the door, having to duck to stop from shooting through the roof, and bellowed, 'Sawah!'
Before she could say anything else to Hoggle, Ludo had grabbed her up in a crushing hug, smothering her face against his thick, coarse fur. 'Sawah fwiend!'
Hoggle made a disgusted noise.
'Come, my brothers in arms!' Didymus exclaimed. 'It is time we began on our long and arduous crusade!'
'Well, you can count me out,' Hoggle griped.
'Sir Hoggle,' Didymus cried, astonished. 'You mean not to accompany us on our quest to the castle?'
'I mean ta stay just where I is. An' I've told you before, you ninny,' he grumbled, 'I'm a habity creature--'
'You mean a "creature of habit"?' Sarah interupted.
'Oh, yes, yes,' he sighed, 'one of those, too. An' I ain't goin' on no quests.'
Ludo stared at him, his whole body drooping. 'Ludo sad!'
'But-- but, Sir Hoggle!' Didymus stammered.
'Hoggle, please.' She looked at him softly, imploringly.
He huffed, and folded his arms.
'Please,' she said again. 'I need you.'
He frowned and then threw his hands up in the air. 'Well I ain't goin' all the way to the castle. An' this don't mean that I forgive you.'
She grinned as he stood up and threw her arms around him in a hug. 'But it does mean that we're still friends,' she said happily.
'Oooh, give me that,' he said grumpily, snatching the bracelet back off her. That was the closest she was going to get to a proper exchange of apologies, she knew.
'Well, what are we waiting for?' he asked impatiently, shooing them all out of the door.
--
Sarah stood with Hoggle and Ludo, explaining more about the dreams and why she needed to stop them, as Didymus called for his 'steed', Ambrosious, and tried to mount him. Ambrosious was not a horse but a large, fluffy English Sheepdog. In fact, he was strangely reminiscent of her own pet dog, Merlin. As Sarah told her friends about what Jareth had said, she wondered if it all really was an effect of the labyrinth. Was her mind transposing her own memories onto this place? She didn't feel she could take anything Jareth said at face-value, but the proof of it seemed to be building up against her.
Didymus led their way through the forest, Ludo behind him practically bulldozing a path through the thick trees. As Sarah looked at her old friends, she couldn't help but wonder why Jareth had never punished them. She had made it one of the rules of their game, this time, that he couldn't hurt them, but as King, what had stopped him from punishing them before? He had said that, although they looked different for her, they were the same personalities; surely siding with her, their treason against the King, was still their own choice? It couldn't have been because she'd, well, expected it, could it? No -- no, it couldn't be. After they'd found her, after Hoggle had given her the peach, she had given him his things back and fully expected him to want to leave. It had been his choice to come with her, definitely. They must be making up their own minds, making their own decisions. But that made even less sense: Didymus had said that he had taken an oath to guard the forest -- she assumed that meant from Jareth or from one of his sub-ordinates at least. That meant he hadn't forgotten about them. So why hadn't he punished them? He didn't seem like the forgiving type.
Had it... Sarah swallowed; a tight feeling in her stomach. Had it been because she had wanted them to be okay? She may not control them but Jareth had said he was her slave. If she didn't want them to be harmed...
'Be sure of thy foot, my Lady,' Didymus called, snapping her out of her thoughts. 'This is treacherous ground!'
She nodded in agreement, but she doubted he could see. Night had fallen on the Underground and the sky was sheer black overhead. Scarce beams of moonlight occasionally broke through the tangled, intertwining branches, which were, themselves, barely a noticeable shade of black darker than the sky, but it was difficult to see anything but the blackness surrounding her. There was something primitively frightening about walking through the dark, she found. Walking into the unknown. Anything could be right ahead, waiting for her, and she wouldn't know until it was much too late. Maybe it was a childish fear, the way children are afraid of monsters in the corners of the room at night, but it wasn't one she could escape easily. She took small steps, trying to find her footing, but she stumbled a few times and grabbed a hold of Hoggle's arm to steady herself. He made an impatient noise every time, something between a sigh and a groan, and carried on, not waiting to see if she was all right. The darkness didn't seem to affect him. Maybe he could see better through it, living in the labyrinth, or maybe it was a passive sort of revenge.
Every now and then, they found a clearing, a place where the trees gave way and let the moonlight through. The sky was near black but she could make out the distortions of clouds sliding across it, a little lighter against the sky, giving the impression of ink blotted across wet paper. She could see the stars so clearly, flickering spots of silver light burning brightly in the sky. It was beautiful. Did the sky look like this in her own world? The sky back home was so polluted with artificial light that you could barely see the stars at night time. Were there really this many? Or was this just another fancy of the labyrinth? Or of her own mind?
The thought worried her. As she thought back on all the interesting people and strange creatures and incredible things she had met last time, as she thought about the Wiseman who wouldn't help her, and the door-knockers which were just door-knockers, and the sheer nothingness all around her now, she began to wonder: in giving up the labyrinth, was she also giving up her imagination? Her dreams?
She had thought, confronting the labyrinth again, that she would have to face all of the wonders and terrors that she had before. See shadows of the past which had haunted her dreams for so long spark back to life. Face her beloved remembrances and release them. It wasn't at all as she had expected, none of it was. Everything seemed so little and insignificant now, spectres of the things they had once been.
Was this the person she was without her silly dreams and childish stories -- a girl, walking through the dark, with no idea of where she was going? Or -- was that what she had always been? Had she invented the rest, the drama, the fantasy, to help her pretend there was more, more to her, more to life, than just this? What was the labyrinth trying to tell her? What was she trying to tell herself that she found so hard to face?
She didn't know the answers. She wasn't sure she wanted to.
She tried to pull herself away from that line of thought, looking for a distraction. Hoggle was uncharacteristically quiet walking beside her. Was he still angry with her? She sighed, pushing her hands into her jean pockets. She didn't want to leave this place with him angry at her, barely on speaking terms. They would never see each other again and it didn't seem right, somehow, to part badly. She looked down, trying to see him in the darkness, but she couldn't make out his expression in the failing light.
'You're being pretty quiet.'
He gave a grunt. She waited for a few moments, hoping he would say something, anything. They walked on in silence.
'I have to do this, you know,' she said finally, although she didn't know how to convince him it was true. Still no response. 'Hoggle, please.'
He sighed. 'What do you want me to say? I ain't happy about it, and I ain't goin' to pretend I am neither.'
'Don't you see? I need to do this. I have to stop the dreams, Hoggle. It's not that I want to forget this place, it's just... I've got to.'
'So you keep sayin'. Don't know who you're tryin' to convince, though.'
'What do you mean?'
'Just what I said, is all.'
Sarah suddenly felt very tired and very unsure. 'I told you about that dream with the walls closing in,' she began, still struggling to see his face in the poor light. 'I could really get hurt if I don't stop them, and...'
'I'm helpin' you, ain't I?' he muttered, his tone harsh and sharp.
'I know, and I'm grateful, I am, but... You've got to understand--' She stopped, thinking over the words, weighing whether or not she should say them before drawing a deep breath and blurting out: 'I need to grow up.' She faltered, hesitating when he didn't respond. 'I mean, I have college and my job and...'
She trailed off and he said nothing for a long moment. The air between them was thick with tension, with the things said and left unsaid.
'Just seems to me,' he said finally, in a tone of voice she didn't recognise, 'that you keeps sayin' that. But then the doors won't open, and the walls trap you in, an' the labyrinth's fallin' over itself to keep you here.'
She folded her arms across her chest almost defensively. 'That's just part of the game, though, isn't it?'
'You tell me,' he spat. 'You is the one playin' it. All I'm sayin' is, if you keep dreamin' about this place, and it won't let you leave, maybe there's a reason for it.'
'But I have to--'
'Oh, "have to" nothin'!' he cried. 'You is just the same as you always was, Sarah. Actin' all smart as if you know it all when you don't know squat.'
'Oh, and I suppose you know me better than I know myself now?' The words tumbled out much louder and sharper than she meant them, and when Hoggle next spoke, his tone carried a defensive edge: 'I ain't sayin' that. I'm just pointin' it out to ya because it's about time someone did.'
He increased his pace, marching ahead of her, and she let him go. How dare he? How dare he? Just what was he trying to say? That she was still a child? Or still childish? He didn't know her at all! They hadn't talked in years, how dare he make presumptions about her! How dare he act as if he knew the slightest thing about what she was thinking, feeling! (She hardly knew herself any more.)
Sir Didymus's voice, shrill with outrage, carried over easily to where she stood, a few metres behind the rest of the group: 'How darest thou speak in such a manner to a lady! Especially a fair maiden of such bravery and wisdom as my Lady Sarah! She is kind, and pure, and of noble birth!'
Hoggle gave a loud, indignant snort.
'Sir Hoggle, if thou were not my friend and my comrade on this daring quest, I would challenge you to a duel this very moment to defend my Lady's honour, I swear it!'
'I ain't gonna apologise,' Hoggle sniffed. ''Cause I ain't wrong, and you all know it. If ya ask me, she don't really want to leave this place at all. Probably makes her feel special comin' here all the time. Talkin' to kings. She still don't want to face facts.'
'Sir Hoggle--' Didymus's tone was notably clipped '--I am quite certain I do not follow your meaning.'
'Oh, maybe she wants to feel all grown up but her world's all work and she don't like it, so she's turnin' ours into her own little fairy story, all being courted by kings and happy ever afters. You know this place grants wishes. The labyrinth's keepin' her here 'cause she don't want to go. Maybe she thinks she should, but it don't mean she wants to. We can half kill ourselves gettin' her to the castle in time, but she won't get out of here, you mark my words. Not 'til she's proper ready to go.'
Ludo said something, a low mournful noise that Sarah couldn't understand, and with a grumble, Hoggle carried on ahead. Sarah stayed where she was, feeling weak and tired as her anger fell away. Something in Hoggle's words rang, horribly, sickeningly true. Was it true? If the labyrinth could take form and make challenges from her mind... It was too horrible a thought to pursue, but the little nagging voice at the back of her mind was becoming impossible to ignore. Of course she was attracted to a world of magic and interesting creatures, but... But surely...
Was it really her doing this? All of this? Had it been her all along? Was she forcing herself to grow up, just to please her dad, and her tutors, and to put this, the labyrinth, safely in the past? The thought wasn't as frightening as the thought that she didn't really want to. What did she want? Jareth's words sounded in her mind, mocking and cold: You want so many things. Wanting them and not wanting them all at the same time.
She swallowed dryly. What Hoggle had said about Jareth, about her enjoying being with him... It was ridiculous, of course it was! She didn't want Jareth! He was her adversary! He kidnapped her brother, for God's sake! And Jareth wasn't courting her... Although... Although that dream had been, well, romantic. And... And up until he'd insulted her, she had... She was ashamed and reluctant to admit it, even within her own head. somehow putting words to those niggling little thoughts and feelings she didn't want to process would give them form and substance, would make them more real. And much, much harder to deny. She had enjoyed it.
--
'The castle lies yonder, my Lady!'
The sky seemed to lighten as they walked out of the forest, the thickly packed trees now ebbing into short, thin-limbed saplings, light falling freely over their branches. A grassy hill, the grass moist and springy under her feet, sloped just as the woods ended and, at the bottom, she could make out the all-too-familiar gates leading into the Goblin City. Sir Didymus charged straight ahead, with Ludo at his side. Hoggle, she found, was dwindling his pace again, just a few steps in front of her. He was deliberately staring at the ground, refusing to look at her. Was he sorry, now, for what he had told her earlier? Or just angry, still? After a moment's hesitation, she reached down to tap his shoulder. He turned around sharply.
'Hoggle, listen, I'm... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled at you.'
He pursed his lips together and said nothing, giving her the distinct impression that he was physically holding in an insult. Finally, he let it out with a quiet sigh, and looked at her for the first time in hours. 'I don't have many friends, you know. There's only you and those two--' he jerked a thumb over his shoulder towards Didymus and Ludo -- 'an' they don't count for much. Half a brain between 'em, maybe. An'... an' I don't like the thought of losin' any of ya.'
She nodded and pressed her lips together, not really knowing what to say. Hoggle eyed her warily.
'Look, I said what I had to say, an' it's said an' it's done with now. No one can make ya do anythin' ya don't want to do.' He stopped to roll his eyes dramatically. 'Not you of all people.'
She let out a laugh and began down the hill again, Hoggle walking at her side, to reach the others.
They stood at the gates of the Goblin City, the goblins milling around them, watching them with mild interest but -- thankfully -- not taking up arms like they had last time. She frowned, watching them, wondering if it could be a trick. He'd said that, last time, she had expected a battle and maybe that was true -- but she was half expecting one this time and there didn't seem to be any signs of one. Or -- maybe it was because she didn't want a fight. She was tired, a headache pounding from her lack of sleep, her muscles protesting the climbing and hiking they most certainly weren't used to and her feet throbbing with blisters. Was this her subconscious controlling the labyrinth? Or -- controlling Jareth?
They walked through the city gates in distrusting silence, each of them carefully eyeing the goblins bustling around them, waiting for a battle call, watching for any sudden movements. But none came. They made it to the castle without incident. Ludo easily opened the doors of the castle and they stepped into the cold, empty hallway, their footsteps echoing throughout the corridor. Sarah turned to face her friends and gave each of them a long, tight hug, especially paying attention to Hoggle, who blushed and looked away.
'Thank you -- all of you. But I need to do this last part on my own.'
Didymus nodded and, although Hoggle looked like he wanted to object, he said nothing. She felt as if she should say something to him, a proper goodbye. She was about to say 'I won't forget you', but it wasn't true. She was going to forget all of this once she found the crystal. All the bad bits, all the good bits. She pressed her lips together and looked at Hoggle, searching for the right words. 'You'll always be important to me,' she said finally. 'And -- and I'm sorry. I wish I didn't have to forget all of this.'
'It's past eleven o'clock,' Hoggle muttered quietly and she nodded.
'Thank you.'
'Good-bye Sawah,' Ludo managed, as Didymus dropped into a sweeping bow.
She held back tears as she turned away and began up the staircase that led into Jareth's throne room.
The room was empty apart from the throne itself; Jareth was spread across it, his legs over one arm, his back against the other, looking into an empty crystal he was spinning in his fingers. He didn't look at her as he spoke.
'Another wish, Sarah? When are you going to admit it? You don't really want to forget this place. You don't really want to forget me.'
'You don't know,' she answered harshly, 'what I want.'
'Yes, I do.' He waved his hand as if he was brushing off her objection and stood slowly to his feet. 'I know your inner most secrets. Your darkest desires.' He began to step towards her in a slow, deliberate pace, his eyes -- burning with intent -- locked onto her own. 'I know all your wishes, even the ones you don't dare make aloud. After all, you made me what I am.'
'But...' She faltered, finding it hard to understand what he was saying. He was staring at her with those distracting eyes, and his body was so close, too close -- the over-powering scent of leather and spice -- and her stomach twisted uncomfortably, her heart pounding furiously in her chest. She frowned, forcing herself to concentrate, to understand his words. 'You said I see you exactly as you are.'
'And you do. Powerful. Handsome. Frightening.' Closer and closer still. 'Don't you understand yet? I am everything I am for you. You want me to be a villain, and so I am. You want me to be cruel and manipulative, you need it. You need me to huff and puff and perform the part of the pantomine foe so you can dress up and play hero. You need me to be the sinner so you can become a saint.'
'No, I--'
He shot out a hand and pressed a gloved finger against her lips to silence her. He cradled her chin in his hand, his thumb stroking softly across her cheek. He leaned in close, and his voice was a low, sultry murmur. 'Don't deny it, Sarah. You can't deny me, just as I can't deny you' -- she swallowed dryly as his voice dropped an octave -- 'anything.'
He leaned in closer, his body barely pressing against her, testing and teasing.
'You want this. You want me to be dark and seductive. You want me to charm you and entice you and be oh so very tempting. You want me to fulfill the secret romantic longings of a young girl's heart, and so here I am.'
He was closer now, so much closer. And a voice at the back of her mind was telling her it was too close, far too close, and it was all a trick and not to listen, but when he was so close to her (oh, so close that every whisper of his lips just caught her own in a gentle caress; when she could feel his warm, soft breath against her cheeks; and his fingers were lightly smoothing over her hair, the strands slipping through his gloved fingers, his palm resting so comfortably at the base of her skull), it was hard to pay attention to it. To anything. His words washed over her easily, and she stared at him, her lips parted, her breathing shallow, waiting... 'I am your slave, Sarah, don't you see?' he growled lowly, his lips tracing the words against her own. 'I am slave to you and your every challenge of the labyrinth, as is the labyrinth itself. Just as the maze changes, just as the inhabitants take different form, so must I do as you wish.' He tilted his head, watching for her reaction as he drawled carelessly, 'Has no one ever taught you to be careful what you wish for?'
In that moment, he seemed to transform. His eyes which had been soft with promises now seemed black and cold, his face was all sharp, harsh planes and his whole posture seemed stiff with purpose. Or had he been like that the whole time, just talking to her so seductively that she hadn't noticed? Instinctively, she moved to take a step back, but the hand that had caressed her hair now seized a handful of it roughly and tugged her back forward. One hand clamped at the back of her head while the other gripped her around the waist, forcing her forward, pressing her body tightly against his.
She could just see a glint of ferociously sharp teeth as he hissed: 'Just -- in case -- you get it,' and then his mouth was upon hers in a bruising kiss.
It was brutal and punishing; his lips were pressed hard against her, forcing her mouth open. His tongue penetrated her mouth savagely, and she whimpered as she tried to push him away, but he was too strong. It shouldn't be like this, not when he was only doing it to hurt her -- but she found herself kissing back anyway, trying to soften the kiss, to turn it into something different.
He broke away, shooting her a look of disgust, of contempt.
'Can you imagine, Sarah,' he asked, his voice low, his eyes flashing with anger. 'How it feels for a being as ancient and powerful as me to be duty-bound to fulfill the hapless fantasies of every snot-nosed half-wit who challenges my labyrinth? To have to become a thing they fear and desire? I was forced -- forced -- to seduce you. It was your will, and I was bent to it. It was a distraction to stop you from reaching the child, but one you devised yourself, the dreams of a young girl... Did you honestly think, all this time, that I actually wanted you?' He gave a cruel sneer. 'You were fifteen! I have clothes with more maturity and experience. Oh, but you wanted romance. You wanted dancing, and gentle seduction, and a proposal of marriage. So you got it. I hope I haven't tarnished the memory.'
He pushed away from her and, with a swish of his cloak, he was gone.
Sarah fell to the ground and cried.
--
She sobbed, long, hard, aching sobs, until the clock behind her chimed. She stood to her feet, rubbing at her eyes to clear her vision. It was twelve o'clock. She swallowed, pulling herself together. She needed to find the crystal. She needed to concentrate and get through this, or else...
Or else it didn't bear thinking about. How would she get through it, being stuck here with him? What would he do to her? She couldn't begin to work out how she felt about Jareth. He was wonderful and terrible all at once, because you couldn't have wonder without terror to compare it to, to know what it is. And -- and maybe she had made him that way.
She knew, although it was hard to admit, even to herself, that she was only so upset because so much of what he had said rang true. She had wanted a dashing prince as much as she had wanted a cruel adversary. She had wanted a real fairy tale adventure, and she had got it. But if it had all been her, if he'd never really meant the things he'd said, if he'd never really wanted her...
She rubbed stubbornly at her eyes, trying not to think about it, but she couldn't banish the line of thought from her mind. She had felt so beautiful and so powerful with the attention of a magical king on her -- as if she was special, as if, just for once, she was the only person someone cared about.
She had dated boys, kissed and fumbled and done all the things that teenage girls did, but it had never felt right. They had never felt right. She never got butterflies in her stomach, or sweaty palms, or breathlessness when they just shot her a look. Jareth was everything she wanted, even if she didn't want to admit it. And to find out that it hadn't been real...
He didn't want her. He didn't love her. It had all been part of her stupid, childish dreams. And it wasn't fair. Not on either of them.
--
Sarah found him lounging leisurely against a staircase in the room that looked like an M. C. Eischer Escher drawing, impossible staircases, defying gravity, running up and down at every conceivable angle. It took her a few moments, battling confusion and nausea, to get used to running up and down the stairs, trying to work out how to reach him. Finally, breathless, she reached the level he stood at and, trying to seem confident and unaffected by what had happened earlier, said, 'Give me the crystal.'
'What makes you think I have it?' he asked, pushing himself off the staircase.
'You said I would win if I found the crystal and--'
'And I never said the crystal would be in my castle. You were simply taking it for granted. Really, Sarah, do you take me for a simpleton? I make an effort never to use the same hiding place twice.'
'But -- you tricked me!' she cried.
'Yes,' he answered simply, a satisfied smirk tugging at his lips. 'I did. Because you wanted me to. I told you before, I am a villain because you wish it, Sarah. If I tricked you, it's because you wanted me to. If I hid the crystal from you, maybe it's because you don't really want to leave this place. Maybe you would rather fulfill your fantasies of living with the Goblin King.'
'Or maybe it's because you're a cheating bastard!'
He threw his head back and let out a throaty laugh. 'Such words for a young lady.'
She stared at him, shaking with indignation. 'Where is it?'
He moved around her again, aimlessly tossing an empty crystal back and forth in his hands, deliberately riling her. 'Where is what?'
'Where is the crystal?'
'It is back at the beginning of the labyrinth. It was behind you when you started, you never once looked at it. Such a pity.'
'What?'
He stood in front of her, grinning, pleased with himself. 'They say ignorance is bliss, I didn't have the heart to tell you.'
His entire chest began to shake with laughter as she pushed past him, looking at the clock on the wall -- it was twenty minutes to thirteen o'clock. She would never make it.
'It isn't fair! It isn't fair!' she screamed, and he laughed even harder behind her.
'Oh Sarah,' he smiled, 'whenever will you learn? Life isn't fair, the labyrinth isn't fair, and I most certainly am not fair. But don't worry -- I'll have years and years to teach you.'
She pressed her lips together and looked away. She wasn't going to cry, not in front of him.
'Tick, tock, tick, tock,' he breathed slowly in her ear, circling her like a shark. 'Time is running out, dear thing. I would run if I were you.'
Tears stung at her eyes and she closed them quickly, refusing to let him see how upset she was. That was it -- she had lost. She would never be able to make it back to the beginning of the labyrinth in time and he knew it. It had taken her over twelve hours to get here! She choked back a sob. So this was it; it was over. She had lost and now she was going to be stuck in the labyrinth for... for who knew how long? What would he do to her? What ways would he find to humiliate and degrade her in front of her friends and his subjects? If she was under his rule then he wouldn't be under her power, subconscious or not, and he wouldn't have any reason to hold back. She blanched, trying not to think about it. Instead, she concentrated on her family and her friends. Would she ever see them again? She thought of her father and wondered what he would do when he realised she was missing. How long would it take for people to notice she was gone? Would her room-mate notice? Oh God, why hadn't she gotten to know her better? They were like ships passing in the night, they didn't speak much and she didn't know Sarah's dad's number to call. The university wouldn't react to a student missing tutorials; it wouldn't be until she didn't turn up for her exams that they'd send a letter out. That would be weeks, months even! But -- her work would call her dorm when she missed a shift though, wouldn't they? And then people would realise. Oh God, what would they think? What would Toby think? What would they tell him?
She thought of her family and the tears became harder to control. If you forgot about the labyrinth when you left, did it work the way around, too? Would she begin to forget about her family and friends? Would he keep her here until she'd forgotten her old life all together?
'In eleven minutes and forty-six seconds,' Jareth trilled somewhere behind her, 'you'll be mine.'
She whirled around to face him. 'No.'
He raised an eyebrow at her and grinned. 'Unless you're hiding wings inside that shirt, Sarah--' he paused, eyeing her up and down before continuing, '--which is doubtful, then I think your chances of reaching the crystal now are quite slim.'
'You keep telling me I control this place,' she said, stepping towards him. 'So this is it. I'm taking control. I refuse to stay here, and I'm commanding you to send me home.'
'Such pretty words,' he drawled, 'but you're wasting them. We have a binding agreement. You can't leave this place until the game is over, which is when you find the crystal or we reach the thirteenth hour. You agreed that if you lost you would stay here and I agreed to send you back to your world if you won. And you don't appear to be winning.'
She glared at him, clenching her fists. There had to be a way, there had to be. Words had power here if you meant them, if you just chose them right.
'I wish,' she began, closing her eyes, concentrating on saying the right words. 'That the crystal with my ring in it was here, in this room.'
'No you don't,' Jareth leered.
Sarah swallowed hard. It was almost true. There were so many things she would miss once she left this place, so many things she didn't want to let go of. But she had to let go. It was finally time. Pushing all thoughts of Hoggle, and Ludo, and Didymus from her head, Sarah thought instead of her dad, and Toby, and her life at home -- all the things she would miss if she were forced to stay in the labyrinth, all the people she would never see again, all the things she would never have a chance to do. And -- she thought of Jareth. It was hard to admit that she had, well, feelings for him, whatever they were, but it was even harder to realise that he didn't return them. If she had to stay here with him, he would torture her. He took pleasure in shattering her dreams. And she couldn't let him do it any more.
'Yes,' she answered, opening her eyes. 'I do.'
She turned around, and there it was, her ring sitting inside the little round crystal, floating perfectly in the middle of the staircase room.
And finally, it all made sense. She understood. She had the power -- she always had -- she had given herself the power a long time ago. In realising and in saying the words, she had taken it from Jareth and from the labyrinth. But, not understanding the power, she hadn't been able to control it. Until now. She could control the labyrinth. Wishes came true here, because it was shaped by your mind. If you just wished it, you could make it happen.
She turned to face him, standing tall on the staircase above him, and his eyes flashed with something that was almost regret. He suddenly looked very old and very tired. 'Sarah,' his voice was a whisper, 'don't defy me.'
She tilted her head, watching him for a moment through half-closed lids. 'I asked for the child to be taken, and you took him,' she said thoughtfully. 'I cowered before you and you were frightening. You reordered time. You turned the world upside down. And you did it all because -- because I expected it of you.'
He watched her intently and she didn't recognise the emotion on his face. Worry, maybe? Or -- sadness?
'And -- and it's not fair. So... I release you.'
She said the words and meant them. For a moment, Jareth stared at her, wordless, and then he was gone. And for all the times he'd said it himself, taunting her and chiding her, he finally realised the truth behind the words: you should be careful what you wish for. You might just get it.
--
She was sprawled across rough, cold stone, her head spinning, bile threatening to rise in her throat, and she lay for a moment, trying to shake off the feeling, until she realised something wasn't right. She shouldn't be here, not in this place. She tried to push herself up, her hands scraping against the rock, but a wave of dizziness hit her and she fell back to the ground again. Her eyes screwed shut, Sarah lay for a moment, breathing heavily, as the world seemed to spin and shift around her. Something about this felt almost familiar, but, no... No, she had never woken up outside before. And she was sure she would remember feeling this sick. Finally, the feeling faded and she slowly sat up again, blinking in the bright sunlight. She was on the concrete just outside her dorm building. What had happened to her? What had she been doing? A nauseous pang of worry rose up in her stomach as she realised she couldn't remember. She must have tripped on the stairs and hit her head on the ground -- that was why she felt so bruised and sore all over. That had to be it. She wondered vaguely if she should go to the E.R., make sure everything was all right, but nothing felt broken and she couldn't have been out for long. It was clearly morning, and she was sure if another student had seen her, they'd have woken her up or called for an ambulance or something.
She stood, her legs trembling, and quickly grabbed onto the stair railing for support. Did she have classes today? She wasn't entirely sure what day it was. She drew in a deep breath and tried to focus on something, battling down the sick feeling in her stomach. Her eyes eventually focused on the little silver ring wrapped around the middle finger of her right hand, and she frowned. She had bought it with her allowance years ago from a thrift store somewhere -- she thought she'd lost it. A fuzzy, niggling feeling of déjà vu lingered in the back of her mind, and she could almost remember something, something that seemed important. Nameless places, faceless people. She couldn't grasp hold of the details, the memory at the back of her mind, hiding just out of reach. She felt as if, if she could just grab a hold of it, if she could just remember what it was... But then, as such thoughts often do, it slipped away, lost forever like a dream upon waking. She shrugged it off -- it couldn't have been that important -- and took another deep breath. Screw her classes; she felt too sick and if she had hit her head, it was probably best to lie down and recover for a while.
Slowly, she moved up the stairs to go back to her dorm room. Was she meant to be working tonight? Maybe she'd just phone in sick and sleep off the nausea. She felt tired, as if she hadn't slept in years. She was definitely ready for a very long rest.
As she walked inside Sarah thought, in the distance, she could hear the shrieking of an owl.
--