(Untitled)

[lockless_key]

Fingers wrapped around a steaming mug of tea, I shivered despite the steam radiating from the liquid and the blanket I was wrapped in. It was quiet in my tiny apartment, since Tara found herself a little place and this place was too small for a roommate, anyway. But I'd never lived alone before. It was a little weird. Lonely-ish

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[lockless_key]

It seems like I've been walking for hours, but when I look up at the sky, it's still dusk and there's no sun by which I could mark the progress of time. It's just a dream, anyway, what does it matter how long I've been here? I'll wake up in the morning just the same.

In theory, anyway.

I shiver slightly as I walk, although the weather's pleasantly warm, not too hot, not too cold. T-shirt weather. It's like this dream was planned or something. But that's stupid. Dreams are of the subconscious.

Okay, do I seriously expect myself to believe that? Dreams can be altered, affected. If there's anything I've learned, living on the Hellmouth, is that there are no coincidences.

I turn a corner, expecting there to be another practically endless pathway or a dead end, since that's mostly all I've been seeing lately. But it's not. There's a door, high and narrow, edged in gold.

THINK OF ME AND OPEN.

'Door', I think stupidly, and I'm not surprised when nothing happens. It's never that easy. I look at it for a while, chewing on my lip, flip back my hair, drum my fingers on my elbow. It's sort of weird that I do the same things in a dream that I do in waking life. Like this dream is a little too real.

Which makes me think again, maybe it's been sent. But how? As far as I know, there are no demons afrer me that can travel though dreams. And I've got nothing to do with the Sandman. But-

"The Goblin King," I whisper.

The door swings open.

[jarethlaughs]

In the manner of dreams, of course, I can be both outside the door and within it. So I see her drumming her fingers and tossing her hair, and then I can be within the room when she opens the door, thinking of me.

It is not the ballroom. Not yet. The ballroom... Is special. Sacred. We are not yet ready for that... We have only just met, after all. The ballroom is too deep in the heart of things.

This is just a room. I am wearing my black mask with the great beak, and my clothes are black and spangled. I did not change, of course; I simply know that this is how I must look here, and so I do. I wonder if I seem forbidding or exotic. I hope for both. I sit on a stone room in a room lit only by the light from windows very high up, long slits in stone. There are dead leaves all over the floor.

"Ask one question. If I like it, I will give you an answer," I say. "If I do not... I will ask you a question. You may not have the answer."

[lockless_key]

When in dreams, you're supposed to go through doors that open in front of you. But for some reaosn, I hesitate. It's too much 'this is supposed to happen'. Too... planned, or something. But this isn't an ordinary dream. And I think if I turned around and tried to leave, all roads would lead back to this door. Or maybe they wouldn't, maybe I'd keep wandering without finding a way out so I'd have to find my way back here because we wouldn't want it to be easy, oh no.

So I go inside.

And he's there, of course, the Goblin King, with his throne and his mask. Dead leaves crunch under my feet as I walk, and I stop about halfway to where he's sitting. The room is dim, but not dark, airy, but not cavernous.

No ordinary dream, indeed.

"Ask one question..."

"Okay, I'll play. Why am I here?"

[jarethlaughs]

She asks the obvious question, and I shake my head.

"No, Dawn," I say reprovingly. "That's the wrong question. Now I shall ask: why do you think you are here?"

I step off my throne and walk towards her. I take off the mask and step behind her, placing the mask over her face.

"Tell me what you see," I say, wondering how she will see things through my dream mask. Even I cannot predict that.

[lockless_key]

"There are no right or wrong questions," I say, a little defensively, because come on, who wants to take etiquette lessons from someone who'st just dream-kidnapped you? Um, not me. I can't read him easily, and that's a little obnoxious, but it's also a challenge. It's sort of like researching a new demon or translating a new text. It's a project.

Meanwhile, he steps behind me and slips the mask over my eyes. I blink behind it, overwhelmed by the visions.

The room becomes small and circular and dark, rough stones reaching up and a faint light shining down. I feel a strong sense of dread and loss. Then it's a wide, barren plain, overlooked by a dim, dusty-looking sun. For a moment, it's the ocean, dark and turbulent. Then it's the tower.

Glory's tower.

I gasp and take a step back, away from the mask and the things it's showing me. But I forget that the Goblin King is behind me and I stumble, almost falling into him.

It's just a dream.

"Funny," I say, but my voice is shaking.

[jarethlaughs]

"There are no right or wrong questions," says Dawn, and I smile.

"A valid point. Or it would be, were you not in my domain, where I decide what the rules are."

She puts the mask on, and gasps. I wonder what it is she sees. She gives the mask back to me, trembling.

"Funny," she says, her voice shaking.

"The mask can show us things we desire... And things we dread. Things at the heart of us. Which was yours, I wonder?" I ask curiously, and I hold the mask up to my own face. I can smell her skin... and her dreams. This one tastes of tears. I see a great tower, and I see Dawn tied to a pillar, blood snaking down her arms. Curious.

I take the mask off.

"Do you often find yourself there, Dawn?" I ask, tilting my head slightly.

[lockless_key]

I'd really like to leave right now, but it's a dream, and it's controlled, so I can't. It's more interesting than dreaming about grocery shopping or coming to class naked, I guess. But there's something about him, Jareth, that gets under my skin.

"Do you often find yourself there, Dawn?"

I start. I didn't know he'd be able to see - but duh, of course he can. It's his dream as much as it is mine. Which is really kind of annoying, actually. When my weird waking life begins to spill over into my dreams... well.

"Not anymore," I say, frowning. My voice isn't shaking anymore, thank god. "Not lately." I cross my arms over my chest and stare hard at the King.

"It's just a game to you, isn't it? Life?" I raise my eyebrows. "I don't understand you. It's like you don't have a life of your own, so you have to go around borrowing others'. How can you be so detached?"

[jarethlaughs]

Oh, she is bold, this one. Infuriating, yes, but intriguing, also. To dare speak to me like this! I find it quite... refreshing.

"I don't understand you. It's like you don't have a life of your own, so you have to go around borrowing others'. How can you be so detached?"

"Of course I have a life, Dawn," I say reprovingly. "But this is my life. You keep thinking that dreams aren't real, but often they are more true than anything else." I touch her cheek with the back of my hand. "Does that not feel real?" I look at her hard, taking in her features. "If it is a game to me, Dawn, it is a serious one. I treat the Labyrinth as my board," I say, and in that moment we are on an escarpment, above the Labyrinth, the wind blowing through my hair, scattering autumn leaves. I point down at it. "And you, dear... Are my new chess piece. But not a pawn, able to talk only one step forward..." I lean closer to her. "In this game you can be a queen." I smile. "That is, if you are not checked, which is always a risk when I hold all the other pieces."

[lockless_key]

This is so pissing me off.

I never asked to be kidnapped. Or dream-napped. Whatever. I never asked for any of this. But it just keeps happening. It's like, the harder I try, I can't escape it. It just keeps closing in. My destiny or whatever. Is that what I am, some kind of freak magnet?

I shake my head, wanting to glare at him as he touches my cheek, but I don't. It would seem childish. I want him to know that I'm a formidable opponent. That he's messing with the wrong girl.

"Yeah? Well, what if I don't want to play? You never answered my question. Why am I here? Why pick me, and not some other girl? Is it the challenge, that you know that I have a good chance of beating you at your own game? I bet you'd find that hilarious."

[jarethlaughs]

I laugh at her aggrieved tone.

"Yeah? Well, what if I don't want to play? You never answered my question. Why am I here? Why pick me, and not some other girl? Is it the challenge, that you know that I have a good chance of beating you at your own game? I bet you'd find that hilarious."

"It doesn't matter whether you want to play or not," I point out, amusedly. "The game has started." I tilt my head as I consider the second part of her question. "I like a challenge, yes. You remind me of someone..." I realise my tone has become a little wistful, and so I draw up straight and made my voice hard again. "That was a long time ago. You interest me, for now. No doubt I shall tire of you. Before then, however, I think we shall have an interesting time."

I click my fingers, and we are at the entrance of the Labyrinth. The place where Sarah first met Hoggle. Fairies dance amongst the flowers, and water trickles from the fountain. All very pretty.

"That door will be open for you," I say to Dawn, nodding towards the entrance. "I think, when you sleep, you may find yourself back here again. But whether or not you come inside shall be something you decide for yourself." I bend and pluck a rose from a bush, winding it into her hair. It feels like silk beneath my fingers. "I think, though, that you will choose to come in. Because your nature is curious." I give her a wolfish smile.

[lockless_key]

"I remind you of someone?"

I raise my eyebrows. Self-important much? I guess it's in his power or whatever. "How's that? You don't even know me."

Then my head starts to spin, but it's very brief. It's just a dream, but I'm still not used to this weird teleportation thing. And I don't think it's a dream for him. I shake my head to clear it, noticing that we're in a really pretty place, actually. Fountain and flowers. A little too idyllic, if you ask me.

Nothing is ever as it seems in dreams.

Jareth tucks a rose into my hair and I have the urge to pull back, but I don't. Where's the harm in it? It's only a dream. I cross my arms and look at the Labyrinth, considering. I don't like that he can judge me like that - correctly.

"Why would I want to?"

[jarethlaughs]

[Sorry for never finishing this thread - I suck. So, wrapping this so we can continue from a later point.]

"How's that? You don't even know me."

"I've seen your dreams," I say softly. "Who else can say that about you? Not even boys you may have fancied yourself half in love with," I add, liking the way the flower looks in her hair.

"Why would I want to?"

I laugh. Her defiance is paper-thin.

"Because you are curious, Dawn. Because you like a challenge. Because even though you pretend to be an ordinary girl, you are not. And now your curiosity has been whetted, you will think about this place... And about me. And you shall come back."

I smile at her.

"And when you wake up, now, you will have a dozen questions on your lips."

I clap my hands, and Dawn vanishes, out of my kingdom and back into the waking world.

[lockless_key]

The last thing I remember is Jareth's smile and the sound of his hands colliding. It makes my ears ring, and I startle into awakeness, blinking at the pale morning light that's seeping in around the curtains in my tiny student bedroom. I groan.

"Ugh, smug bastard."

Rubbing my eyes, I then run my hands through my hair and my fingers catch on something tangled through it. For a moment, I freak out - oh my god, what if it's a spider? gross - and pull it out. It's not a spider. It's a rose.

The line between sleep and the waking world is getting way too blurry.

I throw the rose on the floor and swing my legs out of bed, yawning. Stepping into some slippers, I pad to the door to get the newspaper, and there's a file under the paper, slipped halfway under my door. A thick, brown file.

Interesting.

Newspaper under one arm, the file in the other, I head into the kitchen to make some coffee and get to reading.