It was a deafening male cry which shook her to her toes. For a moment even the hot water that cascaded over her skin seemed to run cold. “In the shower,” she hollered back trying not to sound as irritated as she really was.
Christian poked his head around the curtain. “Where the hell are my keys?” Sarah turned around a bit faster than she meant to and practically lost her balance. Recovered from the near stumble, she focused on Christian as she stood naked before him, the water massaging her sore muscles. Sore from sleeping on the couch for almost a week since the first night she’d dug out her old copy of the Labyrinth and read it cover to cover. Sarah thought he would’ve taken notice, not only of her absence beside him, but of the sight she was before him. This was supposed to be a man’s fantasy, but not Christian’s. He really just wanted to know about his keys.
“I saw them on the coffee table earlier,” she told him pulling the curtain closed. Sarah didn’t think of herself as particularly unattractive. Then there were these moments when Christian could make her feel tragically ordinary. Moments later she heard the front door slam. “Couldn’t even be bothered to tell me where you were going on a Saturday afternoon?” Sarah huffed. Shrugging off her boyfriend’s rejection, she continued her shower. She washed her thick, dark hair and scrubbed her face. Lathering a scrubbing sponge, the irritated woman ground exfoliating wash into her skin until it began to glow. The hot water stung her skin, adding to the redness she’d already created.
Emerging from the shower, Sarah felt renewed. It was Saturday, she had nothing to do and Christian was gone. A purple terry robe wrapped about her, hair wound in a towel atop her head, Sarah made her way to the kitchen. There she found the coffee pot turned on and nearly empty. What remained on the bottom of it was chemically changing to a thick brown epoxy. Angrily she threw the switch, bringing the science experiment to a halt. “And people wonder why I drink tea. Honestly, you would think a 33 year old man would know how to make a lousy pot of coffee!” Grabbing the pot she tried to set it in the sink, but found it already full with pans and a plate. An over medium egg and two half strips of bacon covered the apple basket pattern in the middle of the Corelle dinner plate. “Disgusting!” She set the coffee pot down, pulled up the plate with one hand and a pan with the other. Setting down the pan, Sarah scrapped the leftovers into the disposal. “How hard was that?” She threw her hands up. “Scrap the leftovers into the disposal, load the dishes in the dishwasher, turn the coffee pot off, tell the woman you live with where you’re going.”
Rising and falling in time with her sobs, her shoulders settled on a permanent slump. Whenever someone questioned her relationship with Christian, Sarah managed to smile bravely and utter something very understanding about how either they wanted to get to know each other first or it was more of a priority to establish their careers. In the beginning, she meant it. That was a couple of years ago. Now the excuses tired her. She wanted to be somebody’s something. Thirty was too old to be a girlfriend. Christian should have realized by now what he had. She cared for him, kept his house, did his wash and shared his bed. In fact, there was little left for him to do for himself. Scour the papers looking for auditions and then go off to them. Even that he had trouble with. The parts were always too small or too beneath him. As if someone with Christian’s limited natural talent was in any position to be particular. How did she let herself come to this?
A long time ago she had some idea what love would bring her. Sarah wanted to find someone who made her laugh. Someone who swept her completely off her feet. She wanted to share kisses that made her knees weak with someone who made her heart pound. Young and determined not to settle were one thing, but now she was older than all her married friends. She wanted to be married too, didn’t matter if he had no class or consideration, that he was rude and insensitive. Christian was a prospect, but he hadn’t even brought it up. Sarah dropped a few hints, but they, much like she, went unnoticed. Tears were flowing again.
“I need you Hoggle,” she sobbed into her palms. “I need you right now!”
“...that pea-shooter at those chickens or else I’m gonna...” Hoggle’s voice trailed off as suddenly he noticed there was no tiny goblin before him to be chastised. “Sarah? Sarah, did you call me?” Bushy eyebrows moved back permitting his blue eyes to look up at her. Tears fell from between her fingers to the floor in front of his feet.
Amazed, she gawked at him as she fell to her knees. “You came back! You came back!”
“Of course I did” His sausage fingers smoothed her hair.
Wrapping a bit of her sleeve around her finger, Sarah dabbed at her eyes. “Oh Hoggle, I’m so miserable.” Suddenly it became clear that she didn’t want to confess anything, she just didn’t want to be alone. “Miserable for what I’ve put you through. I feel like I owe you something.”
The dwarf gave her a crooked smile, “Sarah I can’t help yer you’re gonna lie to me.” No matter how difficult it was, he turned his back to her. “Now I’m very busy in the Underground and I have very little time for false alarms. Unless you truly need me, I’ve gotta get back before those nitwit goblins destroy Jareth’s castle.”
“Why isn’t Jareth keeping an eye on them?”
“Ah, ah,” Hoggle stumbled. “Jareth is...busy with other things right now...and...well...he asked for my help.”
“He can barely remember your name, Hoggle. Now who’s lying to whom?”
“Ain’t none of your business what Jareth does. He’s got no rule over you.” He shook a finger at her, “Said so yourself.”
“I used to speak so quickly. Back then I was so caught up in what I would say I had little time to grasp the consequences.” Mindlessly, Sarah twisted the soggy sweater sleeve in her fingers. “You were right. In my youth I took many things for granted. Hoggle what’s wrong with me. I used to be brave enough to say what I thought and stick up for myself. But now,” she motioned around her, “I take orders, on and off the stage. I do as I’m told and I never question what is asked of me. I never tell them I deserve better.”
“And by them, you mean Christian, don’t ya?”
Raven black curls fell over Sarah’s shoulders as she cocked her head at the perceptive dwarf. “How did you know about Christian?” Hoggle turned back to face his friend.
“Just knew is all. I know lotsa things. Taught you ‘bout fairies didn’t I? Helped you work the Labyrinth didn’t I?”
Sarah nodded on both counts, “I wish you could help me now.”
“Seems to me, you need to help yourself.” He stood before her, catching her eye and taking her hand into his. “Do you love this man, Sarah?”
“I don’t think I’ve ever been in love with anyone Hoggle.” Mentally she analyzed the men from her past. “Maybe one,” it occurred to her, “when I was too young to realize it.”
Hoggle knew what she was thinking and while he knew she was right, he’d spent 15 years wondering how someone went from hating someone else so intensely to reminiscing over their love for them. “Why would you wanna be with someone who you don’t love, who don’t love you,” shyly he looked away, “not like you deserve anyway.”
She looked at him with honesty and pain prevalent in her eyes, “Because Hoggle, it’s better than being alone.”
“No Sarah, it’s not. It’s less lonely than bein’ alone, but it ain’t no better.”
Sarah smiled at him. He was trying to help, she knew that. A hand reached out and snatched up a handful of his cheek, giving it a pinch. “How’d you get so smart?”
“I listen to what Drema says.” Hoggle chuckled, “and you’ll listen to yer friend Hoggle.” He excused himself, claiming that business at the castle begged for his attention.
Sarah nodded her understanding before giving him one last hug and kiss, then bid him good day. He had spoken truth to her. When Christian got home, there would be a discussion to be had. This time she would not back down. Whatever she needed to say would be said and regardless of what his ears wanted they would hear her. For that moment some of her adolescent bravery surrounded her.
Maybe too much, as she ran back to her bedroom and took a seat at the now antiquated dressing table. Vivid green eyes peered into the glass. For nearly a minute, she held her own gaze. Sarah felt like she had locked eyes with a stranger. Everything around her seemed unfamiliar and the 30 year old face looking back was out of place. After licking her lips, she ran them together and as forcefully as she could said, “I need you.” A nervous pause filled the space between the sentence and its subject. “Jareth.”
***** ***** *****
As the remainder of the Triumvirate was filing into the Great Hall, the Goblin King doubled over, clutching his stomach and bending his knees. ‘She’s calling me again,’ he thought as he waited for the agony to subside. It was his own fault. Jareth knew well enough that all things fey bore a certain connection to each other. He’d given Sarah his magic and every time she tried to use it he felt the struggle between his desire to obey and her proclamation which rendered him powerless to oblige.
Stooping to assist, “King Jareth, are you not well?” the Cleric asked.
Shaking off the helping hands, he stood and nodded to indicate that the momentary discomfort had passed. “I feel fine holy fey and stand only to feel better and stronger should you and your associates see fit to grant my simple request.”
“Simple?” the Sage questioned. “It is not without some knowledge that we come to meet you today Goblin King. The request you intend to make is as simple as asking the stars not to shine. You must realize the extent to which what you seek is extraordinary.”
“I don’t find it extraordinary that a king should desire his full powers.”
The Gavel spoke again, “And is that all you desire?”
“Tis not for the Triumvirate to ask,” the Cleric interrupted before Jareth could respond. “As I see it, a decision was made without any notice being provided. A decision I myself take full responsibility for. We would be remiss to forbid our king his right to reclaim what is his.”
“Don’t you mean whom?” the Gavel spat sarcastically.
The Sage laid a hand on the lawful fey’s arm, “For pity’s sake my brother, regardless of what or whom our king seeks, this could be a most interesting situation if we are wise about it.”
Trouble spread over the Cleric’s face. He suspected that they might use this as an excuse to toy with Jareth, humble him a bit.
“Make your request,” the Gavel instructed.
Before dropping to his left knee, a wary glance left Jareth’s eye and sought out each member of the Triumvirate. Once he was knelt before them, he dropped his eyes to the floor and spoke trying desperately to be sincere, “Most honorable fey of the Triumvirate, I find myself before you today with a request. You three alone are all powerful in this realm.” He choked down a hard swallow before continuing, “Either way I will respect the decision you make, but I respectfully request passage above the Underground.”
“Your purpose?” queried the Sage.
The king wanted to say, ‘you know full well my purpose’, but he remembered what the Cleric had said to him only one day earlier. “I wish to face the mortal who once defeated me.”
“Why might that be?” smirked the Gavel. Of the two members of the Triumvirate who lost no love for this king, he seemed to be enjoying their little game the most.
Jareth sneered. There was a limit to what he would take. He started to rise, then resumed his position when he saw the hand of the Cleric raise itself toward him. “I wish to ask her to free me of the proclamation she made when last we faced one another, thereby restoring my full power as king and returning the fey magic I had once granted her.”
The Gavel was merciless, “And why did a wise fey such as yourself share your magic with this mortal child?” He tried to hide a smile behind his hand.
A low rumble started in Jareth’s throat and his growl soon echoed off the walls of the Great Hall. “Enough,” he shouted standing to confront the lawmaker and the philosopher. “I am king. Not by vote, not by appointment, but by birth right. Mortal blood courses in my veins, it is true, but I had no say in it’s being there and I won’t allow you to punish me for it one more minute.” The Cleric stood between him and his associates. Jareth directed his attention toward his concerned face. “You know as well as I do that a decision was made before any one of us entered this room. They’re toying with me like a caged animal.” Refocusing on the other two he spat, “You do know how a caged animal reacts to being toyed with gentlefey.”
“Spew your threats someplace else Goblin King.” The Sage responded. “Only a fool would dare to wage battle with the Triumvirate. I do not believe you are a fool. You may not be wise, but you are no fool.” He eyed Jareth until the king uncomfortable shifted his glare away. “You were correct in what you said. A decision was made before any of us came here today. Perhaps we were a bit unruly to badger you the way we have, but your request has been granted.”
Granted. Jareth never imagined he would hear that word today. He began to bow in gratitude. “Not so quickly,” the Gavel interjected. “Your request has been granted inside certain perimeters.”
How the Goblin King hated that fey. He was always making things more difficult. Shamelessly flaunting his power when it came to those he didn’t much care for. It made him wonder what the elders had seen in him that made him worthy to hold a seat in the Triumvirate. Jareth rose his eyebrows in the Gavel’s direction indicating that he was ready to listen to these perimeters.
“First,” he began, “you will have no magic to use for your journey.”
Jareth nodded.
“You will begin from your castle in the morning. You will work your way through the Labyrinth using only your wit and skill.”
Jareth nodded again.
“Provided that you solve your Labyrinth in the same amount of time you once gave the mortal, you will be granted passage to the Aboveground. Keeping in mind that you will work the puzzle in reverse and so solving your Labyrinth will mean finding the outer most gate rather than your castle.”
“Agreed,” the Goblin King said, turning to leave.
“Not so quickly, there’s more,” the Gavel continued. “Should you make it Aboveground, you will not be able to do anything more than confront the mortal to make the request you claimed today you wished to make. This means no quarreling with this or other mortals. No stealing children and no hiding away Aboveground like your mother”
Jareth scowled at him.
“This should not be a problem if what you’ve said is true.” He held the glare of the king until the scowl faded. “Should the mortal deny you, again,” the Gavel stressed, “you will be forbidden to return Aboveground ever again, unless it is to take a wished away child. Additionally, your powers over all mortals will be usurped.” The Gavel sneered, “That means relying only on the Labyrinth to defeat the mortals. No more poisoned peaches. No more bubbled balls. No more viewing the challengers in your crystals. A fair fight Jareth. You do know what that is, don’t you?”
“That’s preposterous,” Jareth shouted.
“That’s your opinion” the Gavel said. “These are your conditions as we the Triumvirate see fit to make them. Do you accept?”
The king looked helplessly to the Cleric who only hung his head as helplessly in return.
“Do you accept?” the Gavel repeated.
Jareth nodded one more time.
The Cleric looked at him, “Are you mad?”
“It’s too late to reason with him Cleric, his decision is made,” the Gavel said snidely.
“Jareth,” the holy fey met him eye to eye, “did you pay attention to what they said? All of your powers over all mortals usurped. You’ll be little more than a figure head in the Underground if you fail.”
His hand reached for the holy vestments. “Then I best not fail.” With that Jareth swung his cape and disappeared.
“Even centuries old you act like children,” the Cleric said to his associates.
Back in his bed chamber Jareth stared into his mirror, “I’m coming Sarah.”
***** ***** *****
The front door that had seemed to close only minutes ago, was opening now after being sealed for many hours. Sarah stirred in her seat, “Jareth!”, she called. Frantically, she dried her eyes and smoothed her hair. Horrified she realized she was in her robe. Quickly she dropped it to the floor and pulled on a baggy sweater she hoped would hide the fact that she was missing a bra. Sarah headed to the front door hoping on one leg as she tried to get her jeans on. “Jareth?”
Beyond the door there was mumbling. The occasional frustrated groan filled her with fear. Her hands trembled as she reached to undo the lock. Until now, Sarah didn’t realize how much she had wanted to see the Goblin King again. What would happen when the door swung open was a mystery to her, but it was one she wanted to solve. One last pat on her stomach to try to settle the butterflies and Sarah flung open the door, taking a step back and propping against the wall.
“Jesus Christ Sarah!” It was Christian. “I’ve been out there for 15 minutes trying to get your attention.”
If disappointment were any greater, Sarah wouldn’t have known it. Butterflies gave way to waves of nausea as she grew physical ill just at the sight of him. “Why didn’t you use your key?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” he asked, raising his arms to show they were full with bags.
“You went shopping.” What, so he was a magician now? They had less than 50 dollars between them and neither one with any job prospects this week.
He set the bags down on the couch, “Yeah I went shopping.”
“With the credit card?” It was not easy to hide her anger.
“No,” he retaliated equally as upset at being questioned this way. “I asked grandma for some cash so she sent me a check.”
“You asked your grandmother for money? How much Christian?” He avoided her stare acting as if he never heard her voice. “How much Christian?”
No longer able to ignore her newly authoritative tone, he raised his eyes to meet her stony stare, “What business is it of yours?”
“I’ll tell you what business it is of mine. I’m tired of cleaning up for your irresponsibility. The things you do effect me Christian. The rent being late means I might lose the roof over my head. The money you put on the card, I’m just as obligated to pay it back as you.” Sarah boldly began unpacking his bags. There were two new suits, half a dozen shirts, a couple of ties, new shoes and a chunky brown leather box. When she opened it she saw a thick banded gold men’s watch inside. “Holy shit Christian, how much did you take from her?”
It was unlike him to concede, but something about the way she seemed so determined, the way she uncharacteristically took charge of the situation, stole his focus from his secrecy, “A couple thousand.”
Rifling the expression she had worn the first time she’d seen a professional stage in New York, Sarah’s green eyes blazed and grew wide. “A couple of thousand,” she choked. “When are you going to grow up?”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me. When are you going to grow up?” Sarah threw down the watch in her hand. “That woman lives on a limited income. What she does have she’s worked hard to save and it’s taken her years.”
“Well she wanted me to have it. She said so.”
Head shaking, “No, you wanted you to have it. She’s so blinded by her love for her first grandson she couldn’t tell you no,” she pointed out.
Snatching the bags up, Christian raged, “It’s none of your fucking business what I do with my family.”
Without knowing it he’d managed to touch on the root of the entire problem. “No, it isn’t is it? I suppose it never will be.” He looked at her without saying a word, his face screwed up, trying to figure out what she meant by that. Clearing his confusion, Sarah continued spewing out words whose origins were a mystery to her. “Well you’ve been as aggressive with our relationship as you have with your career. Sitting back waiting for it to happen, not doing anything to take charge of it.”
“Oh no you don’t,” he set the bags on their bed and came out charging at her. “Don’t you start with this marriage thing again. We’ve done this a thousand times and each time we’ve come to the same conclusion. We need to establish our careers first.”
“What careers?” she spat back in his face. “You can’t get a decent job to save your soul and I’m not permitted to take anything that might upstage you.”
Harshly, his fingers ground into her upper arms, “That’s not true!”
“It is true,” Sarah continued even though she felt his grip digging deeper into her muscles, “because if it weren’t you wouldn’t be so upset.”
“Well if that’s what you think, then fine.” With a quick shove, he threw her aside. “No one’s been beating down our door to offer you a role either.”
‘Yeah,’ she thought, ‘because I’ve said no so often they’ve stopped asking.’
“If you think your such a prima donna then the next time that phone rings, take whatever part they offer you. But I won’t be in the audience when you fall on your face in embarrassment.”
“Embarrassment?”
“Yes, Sarah, embarrassment. I didn’t want to tell you this, but your talents have always been more in your looks than in your performance.”
“You’re a fine one to talk, the last commercial you did they had to voice over because you sounded to young for the product they were trying to sell.”
“They had to do the voice over because that guy had the accent they wanted but not the look.”
Sarah’s eyes filled with pity, “Awh, is that what they told you?”
“To hell with you Sarah,” Christian said evenly as he slunk back to their room. “Not only will I not be around when you fall on your face, I may not be around at all much longer. I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but it’s not attractive.”
“What’s gotten into me? What has gotten into me. You walk around here like a king. I cook, I clean, I pick up odd jobs sewing to get us money to pay the rent while you wait for the golden role to fall in to your lap. It’s not what’s gotten into me, it’s what’s finally coming out of me.” He looked up at her one more time, defeated and showing sadness for probably the first time since they’d met. “Let’s just say that someone’s convinced me I deserve better.”
At that, Christian closed the door. Sarah ran her hands through her hair. “What just happened?” Sure it all needed said, but part of her was frightened by the idea that she had actually upset the impenetrable male she shared a home with. Her intention had been to sit with him calmly and finally release what was dammed up inside of her, but the way he came home loaded with packages, the way he talked about his grandmother. It was enough to infuriate her to the point of losing control. Regret was setting in. Sure it felt good to speak her mind, but what good would it do her to end up alone. Christian’s jobs weren’t frequent, but when they came, they paid well. The jobs she got were minimal on the pay scale. It was too soon for her to realize that without him she could take better job offers. Too soon for her to realize that freedom sometimes began as pain.
Just as the tears started to fall again, the telephone mounted to the wall behind her began to ring. “Hello,” she peeped out, trying her best to sound pleasant.
“Sarah? Is everything alright?”
“Yeah, yeah. Fine.” The voice on the other end of the phone was her agent. “I, ah, just came up the stairs.”
“Well maybe you should sit down.”
A few steps behind her was one of the breakfast stools which she immediately used to her advantage. It wasn’t often your agent suggested you have a set. “What is it?”
“There auditioning for Eponine and I got you a six o’clock spot.” he accentuated the pronouns for emphasis.
“Eponine?”
“Yes, Eponine. You know Les Misérables? Sarah are you sure you’re alright?”
“I’m auditioning for Eponine.” Nervous laughter escaped her throat as she said loud enough for Christian to hear, “I’m auditioning for Eponine!”
“I knew you’d be excited.”
“Excited,” Sarah said, “I’m positively thrilled! I’ve got to find something to wear. My hair needs done, my nails.”
“You need to rehearse. Make sure you practice Sarah. If you nail this audition, it could mean everything for you,” her agent reminded her. “Now I’ll see you tomorrow night at six”
“I’ll be there at ten till.” She cradled the phone and charged into the bedroom.
Christian was propped up on one elbow setting his new watch to match the alarm clock. Ignoring him, she pulled a bra out of her dresser and slid it under her sweat shirt, fastening it in the back. Quickly smearing on some lipstick, she grabbed her purse and turned to leave. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“I have an audition tomorrow,” Sarah said with more pride in her voice than had been there in a while.
“So I heard,” he replied smugly, “but that doesn’t answer my question. Unless you intend to be there incredibly early, where are you going?”
“I need a few things to clinch the audition,” She told him checking her wallet to make sure she had the credit card.
Christian was on his feet in a flash, “You don’t think you’re going to use that card do you? Not after your martyr’s speech.”
Slowly, a smile rolled across her lips. “What’s good for the goose,” she said picking up her keys from the bureau and closing the bedroom door behind her.
***** ***** *****
Hours later, Sarah came quietly back through the front door, a long garment bag folded over her arm. Christian was asleep when she looked into the bed room. Just as well she thought. Finely manicured hands worked the hanger over the edge of the closet door. She removed her wool coat and folded it over the back of the chair. A reflection in the toaster caught her eye. Huge locks of thick black curls hung from her head. The salon had done wonders with just a few hot rollers and a quick trim. Suddenly, she felt alive again. It was like the early days, before Christian had so much say over her. The electricity in preparing for this audition was tingling through her whole body. Music played in her head, her feet powerless to resist it as they moved around the floor. Her voice wanted to sing, but was denied. Waking the man in the next room would only end all this joy. Sarah wasn’t about to let that happen. She settled into the couch. Tonight it felt like a king-sized bed. She tucked her legs in with the throw, but no sleep was going to be gotten tonight. The calendar swore that it was only late October, but her heart felt like it was Christmas.
“You’ve got to sleep,” she told herself, “otherwise you’ll show up tomorrow with huge bags under your eyes. You’ll be lucky if they offer you the Thénardier part then.”
Sarah closed her eyes, picturing her performance. Her new dress showing off the body Christian so easily overlooked. Dreams began to overtake her and sleep did eventually settle in. Visions filled her subconscious. The street outside her apartment covered in a thick fog. It had been raining and the pavement sparkled as the streetlights reflected off the black top. Sarah’s wool coat was just a bit tattered and her fingertips, no longer manicured, poked out the end of several fingers of her gloves where the cotton had worn away. A floppy hat pulled over her curls that were no longer thick and full, but matted and tangled. Though she saw herself alone, she was talking on and on to no one in particular. Step by step, Sarah confessed more to a faceless someone who seemed to stride beside her. After a pause, as though she were yielding to a reply, she smiled. Drawing her coat tighter around her, she danced in circles down the street, dragging her feet in the puddles on the road. She stopped and leaned against a mailbox, a look of joy spreading over her face. “I love you,” her lips motioned in the gentle glow of the streetlight. Sarah’s head tilted back, her eyes shut. Her closed lips parted as though she was receiving a gentle kiss. The point of view for Sarah’s dream changed as she found herself inside her body, rather than watching it omnipresently. A small jolt ran through her as she adjusted. The street scene was no longer vivid. Instead, a chilled breeze blew over her cheeks, a few stray hairs caressing her face. The streetlights now no more than a glow through her closed lids. Sarah felt soft lips on hers. The kiss was gentle and warm, filled with love. She smiled against the mouth of the man she was with. Her arms uncrossed her chest and reached for him. In return he embraced her waist and pulled her to him, deepening the kiss. The man’s bottom jaw bobbed rhythmically as his mouth massaged hers. His teeth tugging at her lips. His tongue working her mouth open further as their breath exchanged in heavy gasps. Sarah broke away from the kiss for air. Her fingers rose to her lips. They felt warmer and fuller than normal. Without his mouth to cover hers the chill of the night air blew across them making her shiver. Slowly, Sarah opened her eyes in search of his warm touch once more. He stood before her, tall and lean. His clothes far more royal than hers. A long coat glittering with jewels that reflected the light. A high collar met with the brim of a hat that obscured his face. Sarah smiled. She had been dreaming that she were Eponine and here with her as if by magic appeared her Marius. Her tender hand reached for his cheek. Turning his head to face her, she marveled in the fascinating shade of blue that enveloped the deep black center of his eyes. His face felt chiseled, his features defined. There was a familiarity to him. He smiled back at her showing his teeth. The incisors were slightly pointed making him seem devilish. Having surveyed his face, Sarah’s concentration returned to his eyes. He moved into the light. As one onyx pool shrunk to the size of pin point, the other remained wide. His mouth reached for hers again. Sarah extended her arm keeping him at some distance, causing hurt to seep into those captivating mismatched eyes. “Jareth?”
Sarah sat up on the couch, clutching the throw to her. Her eyes shifted around the apartment that suddenly seemed foreign to her. Out the window she could see the streetlights shining. A shaking hand reached up to her mouth where her lips still trembled from the feel of the kiss in her dream. Inside her chest Sarah’s heart beat as though she had just run home from the lake, where as a child she rehearsed her acting. Out of the corner of her eye she could have sworn she’d seen a snowy barn owl fly past her window. “Not in New York,” she reasoned. “That’s just not possible.”
***** ***** *****
The Goblin King sat on a bench in the garden outside his castle. His long legs curled up on the bench, his riding crop swatting at his black leather boots. Had sunrise ever taken so long to come to the Underground before. Jareth manifested a few crystals and floated them off into the sky. Just as he was about to roll the last one off the edge of his gloved hand, a thought occurred to him. He plucked it back out of the air and tucked it into the pocket of his coat. “No point in leaving without my keys,” he noted.
Golden liquid seemed to fill the sky and drip down over the castle grounds. Sunrise had come after all. Hoggle appeared at the doors which led out to the garden. He looked at his king with pity in his eyes. Jareth was walking along the Labyrinth wall, carefully examining each brick, attempting to locate what before sunrise he had seen as a very obvious entryway. He stood to lose or gain so much by this fool’s journey he insisted on taking. There was a heart beating beneath his chest, even if it hadn’t always seemed that way. Carefully Hoggle approached him. “Yer majesty, I wondered if you would need a hand in getting started.”
“Indeed,” Jareth said now beginning to look high and low rather than just straight ahead. “How does one get into the Labyrinth?”
The dwarf pointed ahead and to their right as his directions rolled off his tongue, “You gets in there.”
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