This is my first fanfiction, so I hope that you enjoy it. I posted this before, but realized I had left some errors in it. Unforgivable! So here is the revision, hopefully error free. Enjoy!
Dreams in the Night
by displacement
Jim Henson owns Jareth, Sarah, and Toby. But I own the rest. Yay!
Sarah sighed, and turned over on her back. With one arm thrown over her head, legs sprawled carelessly she might have looked the very picture of lazy contentedness, if it wasn't for the deep frown that creased her lovely face. She glanced over to the lump of flesh sleeping beside her. He snorted once, then settled into a deeper sleep, unaware of her contemptuous gaze.
"Weighed in the balance, and found wanting," she mumbled to herself. With a sigh she rolled over and sat up. For a moment she sat perched on the edge of the unfamiliar bed, face buried in her hands and wondered how this had happened to her. Again. She knew she wasn't going to get any sleep much sleep that night, and didn't feel like waking up next to this guy—George? John? What was his name again?
She slowly sat up, not wanting to wake her erstwhile bed companion, and started the search for her panties and the rest of her clothing. The night was still somewhat blurred, but she remembered going out to the club by herself out of sheer boredom. Usually she abhorred such places, but this night she had felt an extreme desire, almost an obsession, to lose herself in cheap booze and pounding music.
When these urges came over her, she usually scorned the many people who approached her to dance, or to join them in a drink, preferring to remain by herself. Every once in a while, however, she would find herself drawn to one man in the room that would catch her attention. Invariably these men were tall and thin with light eyes and blond hair, preferably long. She wasn't quite sure why this combination of physical traits triggered something in the lusty center of her brain, but they always did. She wouldn't wait, or take a chance on them coming to her. She boldly sought them out and seduced them before they even knew what was happening. Yet every time she was left with a cold, empty feeling, as if what she was searching for was missing. But she had no idea what it was she was looking for, she was hardly aware that there was something specific she searched for. No matter how many times she would find herself slinking out the front door of some random guy's house at 4:00AM, vowing never to let it happen again, she couldn't help but break that promise to herself.
Sarah quietly let herself into her own apartment, mindful of the annoyingly noise sensitive woman who lived below her. She showered, wanting to cleanse herself of the sweat and smoke which clung to her as much as to wash away the memories of the man she had gone home with. Throwing a small t-shirt over her panties she crawled into bed.
Thank god it's still the weekend, she thought. She had all day Sunday to recover from her nocturnal adventures before school on Monday. Thinking about her little class brought a much needed smile to Sarah's lips, and she finally felt peaceful enough to drift away into sleep.
She was dreaming of something bizarre and inane, playing miniature golf with her brother Toby. People kept wanting to play through, and would interrupt them in the middle of a hole—except no one was playing with golf clubs, they all had pool cues and they would get on their bellies to shoot at the golf balls. She had just looked over to Toby to laugh with him about it, when suddenly a flash of golden hair in her periphery vision distracted her, and the dream changed. She was now alone, lying on a huge bed with dark satin sheets. The bed seemed to stretch on forever, she could hardly see beyond it, it was so expansive, but somehow she knew she was in a castle. She leaned her head back into the pillow and closed her eyes while feeling the texture of the cloth beneath her. It was the softest thing she had ever felt, and she hummed deep in her throat at the delight of it.
"Does something please you?" a voice breathed in her ear.
She opened her eyes and found herself looking at the most beautiful man she had ever laid eyes on. He was tall and slender with long blond hair which fell about his shoulders, but was wild and spiky at the top. But his eyes were the most amazing part of his beauty. Sarah realized this was what she had been searching for all this time. His eyebrows jutted sharply up at the corners of his eyes, and there was a dark design patterned there. She could tell it wasn't makeup, but she didn't know what it was. It looked amazingly exotic though, and somehow still entirely normal on his face. The most striking thing about him was the fact that one eye was a light hazel, while the other was a striking blue.
She merely stared at him, taking in his features, her mouth hanging slightly open, a small glimmer of her teeth showing. He returned her gaze with a penetrating one of his own, which faded slowly into a smirk.
"Hello again, Sarah." As he spoke, she was haunted by the melody of his voice, his accent, the way he practically purred the words at her.
"Who—who are you?" she stuttered, ashamed at how her voice shook. She was never this disconcerted when it came to men. But then again, she mused, she had never met any man that she felt remotely anything for. But this face, this man, made her heart swell in her chest and her throat seize with emotion.
"I know you don't remember me. How many times have we had this conversation? I knew you once, a long time ago." At her wide eyed, confused stare he sighed.
"Why don't I remember you?"
"It's not allowed."
"What?"
"Here, maybe this will help. Technically its against the rules, but I don't think you'll tell on me, will you?" He passed his hand lightly over the crown of her head, his long, gloved fingers lingering to stroke her cheek gently. She gasped in surprise and abruptly stiffened in shock as memory came flooding back to her. In a flash she remembered everything.
Wishing Toby away. Running the labyrinth to get him back. Her regret at rejecting Jareth's final offer. Saying the words that sent Toby and herself back home. She remembered calling for her friends that first night, the wild party that had ensued, that her parents magically did not hear. She remembered the flash of white outside her window, and wondered at the snowy barn owl perched on the tree, looking in. She had stared at it until it had flown away, for some reason leaving her with an unsettled feeling, an island of uneasiness amidst the rambunctiousness of the goblins and other creatures who had come to her.
After that party she had never seen any of her friends again. She had slept that night, then woken, completely convinced it had all been a dream. Granted, the most vivid, lifelike dream she had ever experienced, but a dream nonetheless. A dream she had forgotten immediately upon waking.
However, she had changed greatly after that. She no longer obsessed over fairy tales and fantasy stories. Somehow they didn't seem to live up to the real thing any longer, although she didn't know why that was (or how she knew what the "real thing" was). She got along much better with her parents, she felt a great love for Toby that she had never felt before. She was like an entirely new person. Her parents noted the change, but didn't comment on it.
As all this knowledge of the past flooded Sarah, seeming to drop into her brain from nowhere, she realized something else. It had been years until she had seen Jareth, her Goblin King, once again. He had waited five years before coming to her, in a dream just like this.
"Why did you take so long to come back to me?" she asked.
He sighed. "You always ask that."
"I know," she said with a wry grin.
"Then you tell me why."
She thought for a moment, trying to make sense of her new memories, seeking the knowledge she needed. "Ahh," she said finally, "it was not allowed."
"Yes Sarah. Remember when you saw me out the window, the night you defeated me? I allowed you one last chance to see your friends before I was forced to take away your memories of your time in my world away. It was in the rules, you know."
/It's in the rules. And I must warn you that one of us always lies and one of us always tells the truth. That's a rule too. He always lies./
/I do not! I tell the truth./
/Ohh, what a lie./
"Yes, I know all about the rules," she said, with a slight bitterness to her tone.
"Of course." He smiled at her briefly. "I waited so long because...well, I was never supposed to see you again. But I studied our laws concerning mortals and their admittance to the underground. I realized that a loophole existed: as long as I came to you only in your dreams there was nothing anyone could do about it. Of course, if they knew I returned your memories to you while I was here, they wouldn't be to happy. But, there you have it."
"Jareth, I've missed you. Tonight I—"
"Yes, I know." At her ashamed frown, and the tears that gathered in her eyes, he lifted her chin. Slowly he stroked her cheek. She sighed and leaned into his hand, unable to look away from his strangely beautiful eyes. "Sarah," he whispered. He drew off one black glove, and brushed his thumb over her lips. Without thinking, she took that digit between her teeth, gently biting him.
"So, that's the way it is to be tonight?" he asked in a low voice. She grinned in response and ran her lips over his thumb, smoothing away any sting her bite might have caused. "Keep it up Sarah, I won't be held accountable for my actions." She merely leaned in and bit him on the neck, at the sensitive spot just beneath his ear, slightly harder this time.
He let out a sound somewhere between a groan and a growl. Before she knew what was happening he had turned her on her back, was lying halfway on top of her, and devouring her mouth. She moaned, a low, guttural sound that tore from her center. The feeling of his tongue brushing against hers was incredibly erotic, and she didn't think she'd ever felt anything so good. He kissed her with just the right amount of pressure, insistent and demanding that she give herself to him, but not too rough as to be painful.
Her arms crept around his side to his back and she crushed herself to him, reveling in the feeling of his hairless chest pressing into her breasts. She twined her legs with his, in an effort to press as much of her skin to him as possible. At length he separated from her, pushing himself up on his hands to look down at her. The angle caused his hips to press against hers even more intimately, and she shuddered in pleasure from the feeling.
"Sarah," he groaned. There was a pained look on his face she realized, slowly coming out of her lust filled daze. She ceased the slow grinding her hips had been making against his, and tried to concentrate on him.
"Jareth," she cried eventually, "What is it?" A sinking feeling filled her. He looked at her for a long moment, crouched over her, his gaze flicking over her face, coming to rest finally at her eyes. The cold feeling inside her was turning to dread.
"Darling, I can't do this anymore."
She cried out, but he continued as if he hadn't heard. "When you left me all those years ago I was destroyed, but I understood. Few people have ever solved the labyrinth. Those that have invariably refused whatever it was I offered them at the end. Only once have I ever offered myself in place of a child. I was devastated when you refused me, but I understood."
She took a breath to say something, but he silenced her with a finger to her lips. "What hurt me the most was knowing that you would forget all about me, that I would be forced to erase your memories of this place, or cause you to think it had all been a dream. I couldn't live knowing that I loved you while you had not the faintest idea of who or what I was. Even our time together in the labyrinth as adversaries was precious to me, and I wanted it to be just as precious to you. So I stayed away, reading every book I could get my hands on about interaction between our two worlds. When I discovered I could come to you in your dreams I was elated. Even if you didn't remember me from day to day, I could have you at night."
At this he trailed off, looking down at her with pained eyes. He collapsed over her, carefully rolling to the side onto his back so as not to crush her. "But my dear Sarah," and he flung one arm pathetically over his eyes, as if to shut out reality. "Now this is not enough. I have spent every night for the past three years waiting to hold you, talk to you, make love to you. I spend every day cursing the moment I must spend apart from you. My kingdom is beginning to suffer." He turned his head to look at her. "Sarah, even now you torture me."
She couldn't hold back any longer. "Jareth," she said desperately, "Don't you think I feel the same way? I spend every day searching for something, something I cannot define. I long for you during the day without even knowing its you I need!"
"I know Sarah, and that's another reason why—"
"Jareth, what are you saying?"
"I can't do this anymore." With that stark announcement he closed his eyes, as if to shield himself from either his pain or hers. Sarah, for her part, curled herself into a ball, her back to him. A cold lump of fear had settled on her chest and she was finding it difficult to breath. She choked as she tried to speak, and had to swallow the gigantic lump that had formed in her throat.
"What. Exactly. Do. You. Mean. By. That." She was deadly serious, but her voice cracked on the last word, and she finally turned to look at him. He was staring at the ceiling, lost in thought. "Jareth!" The sharp cry brought him back to attention.
"Hmmm?" He finally seemed to take in her horrified expression, and looked at her incredulously. Suddenly realization hit him and he started laughing. Laughing! Her expression changed instantly from horror to cold fury.
"How DARE you laugh at me! You insolent bastard! Fuck you Jareth. Fine, leave. See if I care. I won't remember this in the morning anyways, right?" With her last words a stone mask settled over his features. She knew she was no longer looking at her lover of the past three years, but the man she had met as a child. She was looking at the Goblin King. With that thought, one more horrible occurred to her.
"This is my punishment, isn't it. For beating you. For beating your stupid labyrinth. You come to me, lull me into a false sense of security, make me fall in love with you, and then dump me on my ass."
"Well," he said coldly, "Is that any different from what you did to me?"
She climbed to her knees. "You BASTARD!" she screamed. "How can you do this after three years? Three YEARS!" She wasn't sure if she wanted to run away, or hit him as hard as she could. She must have made some sudden movement in her indecision, because suddenly he grabbed her by the wrists and pulled her down under him. He straddled her to hold her down as she struggled to break loose.
"Sarah," he said in a deadly quiet voice. She had never heard him use quite that tone before, and she shivered with the hidden danger she sensed in it. She began to struggle again, harder this time, and began to sob over and over, "How could you do this? How could you do it?"
"Sarah," he repeated, slightly louder. "Sarah! SARAH! DO WHAT? The only thing I'm going to do is figure out a way for you to be with me forever!"
"What?!" she cried. After a pause she began to struggle again. "How could you let me think you were going to leave me? How could you let me think that!" But she was struggling much less whole heartedly.
He sighed loudly and rolled his eyes, although he couldn't suppress the laughter that bubbled out of him. "You are the damnedest woman I've ever met. How ever am I going to be able to put up with you for the rest of my life?"
"Hey!" she yelled smiling, in mock outrage. To still her erratic movements he laid himself fully over her body. Her wild struggling turned into sensual writhing as she was finally placated. He chuckled again to himself as he bit lightly on her shoulder, hearing her searing moan.
"Now Sarah," he whispered hotly in her ear. "Do you really think I could give this up?" She moaned again in response. "I can see eternity will never be boring with you around, my dear." She giggled and he got down to the business of making love to her.
Sarah woke extremely late Sunday morning. She jerked awake, panicked for a moment, not sure about where she was. There was something about her dreams last night, something she desperately wanted to remember. She heard a voice whispering in her ear, "I will find a way," but before long that too was gone.
Sighing loudly she rolled out of bed, only to stop short, her hands pressed to her head.
"God," she groaned, "What the hell did I drink last night?" She stumbled into the kitchen to make some coffee. The thought of eating anything right now made her stomach churn. She knew that she had showered the night before, but she thought another one might help her wake up and relieve her of some of her hangover.
She put the coffee on to brew and went to the bathroom. She laughed at the trail of clothing from the front door to the bathroom, and turned the water to scalding hot. She winced as she stepped under the spray, but as she shampooed her long brown hair she sighed at how nice it felt on her throbbing headache.
Throbbing. That reminded her of something she dreamed last night. Her eyes widened in shock as she recalled the feeling of throbbing flesh under her hand. She struggled to remember more, but to no avail.
"Damn," she murmured to herself, "It seems like it was a good one, too."
She spent the rest of the afternoon grading test papers for her class of second graders. She adored all her students, and they felt the same way about her. She had a good touch with young children, and she felt like teaching was the best part of her life. Her family was important to her, she had few friends, but those she had were extremely close. She didn't have a boyfriend, feeling mostly repugnance for the men who approached her. But everything paled in comparison with the feeling she got from teaching new things to young children. She had worked hard to get through school quickly, immersing herself in study, taking summer classes, choosing an accelerated grad school program. This was her first year with a class of her own, and she loved it. Each of her twenty-five students was special, and she loved finding ways to draw some special talent out of each of them.
After a late dinner, Sarah checked through one more time to make sure her work was done before eagerly going to bed. Even though she had slept very late, she had been looking forward to bed all day. She smiled as she drifted off, the ghost of a name on her lips.
"Jareth..."
"Ms. Williams, can I go to the bathroom?"
Sarah sighed to herself, and tried not to let her exasperation show. "Yes Tommy, you can go to the bathroom. Does anyone else have to go?" At their wide eyed stares and heads shaking no, Sarah smiled. "Okay then, who wants to solve the next problem on the board?"
The day had been creeping by slowly, Sarah was trying to teach the students how to do long division, and it had been a disaster. Math had never been her strong point, so she was finding it particularly difficult to help others learn how it worked. She wrote a somewhat simpler problem on the board, and asked if anyone would like to try it instead. When no one raised their hands, she thought maybe she was putting to much pressure to perform in front of everyone. She set them the task of doing it on their own before trying at the board, and from the relieved looks she got, she thought maybe she was on the right track.
She couldn't wait until the afternoon, when they would be going over the book reports she had set for them to do. She had been looking forward to seeing which books had been chosen. Her students had been working on this little project for a while, and she was very interested to see how they had done with it. It was the first such project she had given them, and she was using it as something of a test for their abilities to do work on their own.
"Okay, now who can show us how they got their answer?" At the tentative raising of five or six hands, she finally called on Brian, the shyest boy in the class who hardly ever volunteered for anything. Sarah grinned. Things were looking up.
The bell rang signaling the end of school for the day, and as the students noisily put their books away in their desks and moved to the back of the room to collect their coats, Sarah asked one of her students to stay behind for a moment. She rolled her eyes at the singsongy , "Oooohhh," that followed, the universal sound of 'you're in trouble!'
"That's enough," she admonished, but with a smile. She couldn't even remember how many times she'd made that sound when she was in grade school.
"Emily, I wanted to talk to you about your book report."
"Okaay."
"It's nothing bad," Sarah said quickly.
"Oh," replied the girl, and grinned in relief.
"Actually, I thought it was very good. The book you wrote about," Sarah looked down at the papers in her hand, "The Labyrinth, sounds very nice. I was wondering if maybe you might want to talk to the class about it. You know, give an oral report of the book you chose."
At the look of horror that crossed her face Sarah quickly added, "Only if you want to! If not, then maybe we could read this book during story time. Would you like that?"
"Yeah! I can bring the book in for you tomorrow if you want!"
Sarah laughed at her little student's enthusiasm. "That sounds fantastic. All right then, I'll see you tomorrow."
"Bye Ms. Williams!"
"Goodbye Emily."
The next morning Sarah woke feeling disoriented for a moment. The feeling quickly passed, and for some reason the book she was to be reading today to the class came to her mind.
"The Labyrinth," she whispered out loud, and shivered. She didn't know why this was affecting her so badly, all she knew about it was the summary of an eight year old girl. Yet she was intrigued by the whole thing, and all she knew what that she couldn't wait to get her hands on that book.
She quickly showered and drank a cup of coffee and headed off to school.
"Good morning class, good morning."
"Good mor-ning Ms. Williams." Sarah always cringed at the way her class said good morning. They sounded so mindless, so not-there. They always reminded her of some kind of zombies, going through the routine, and never paying attention to their surroundings. She usually let it slide, but today she wouldn't.
"Come on, you can do better than that." Irritation colored her voice. The class sat up a little straighter, and some of the students looked at each other nervously. Their teacher had never quite used that tone of voice with them before. Usually she was very sweet, and the whole class loved her. But something was different today.
"Good morning Ms. Williams."
"Alright, lets get down to work. I have a list of problems here that I want you to solve. I'll write them on the blackboard and you'll have twenty minutes to do them, and I'll be grading you on it. Clear?"
This was another change to the students. Their teacher usually spent the first ten minutes or so of the day talking to them about interesting things they had done after school the previous day, or any tidbits from the news that she thought might interest eight year olds. But today they were moving right into the most difficult thing they had done all year.
"But Ms. Williams, we just learned how to do these. Can't we have a little more practice first? It's not fair!"
"Who ever said life was fair? It's high time you had an introduction to the concept of pop quiz." With her last words Sarah shook herself, as if realizing for the first time she was being a little cruel. But she couldn't back down now, if she let the students get away with not doing what she asked just once, she knew she would be struggling with them for the rest of the year. "How's this," she asked a little more kindly, "if you have any questions during the quiz I'll help you. Okay?"
The boy grumbled, mollified, but obviously not pleased. Sarah sighed again, rolling her eyes when she turned to the blackboard to write the problems. She could already tell it was going to be a rough day.
She sat at her desk while the students worked, occasionally getting up to help them. After the short test they went through the answers, Sarah making sure that everybody understood the mistakes that they might have made. Then she set them some new problems, more complicated this time, and went through them until the class seemed fairly comfortable with it. By then it was recess, and Sarah had never been so grateful for the bell. She wasn't on recess duty that day, so she could go the the staff room and get a much needed cup of coffee. As her class filed out the door, Emily brought something to her desk.
"Here's the book Ms. Williams," she said, somewhat shyer than usual.
"Ah, thank you Emily. I'll see you in twenty minutes."
She stared down at the red velvet book on her desk. It was small and slim, with the words The Labyrinth stamped in gold. There was no author name. She opened it up, and there was no publisher, no date, no listing for the Library of Congress. The book looked old and well loved, and as she picked it up she felt a warmth of familiarity in her fingers. She felt some kind of deja vu, and for a few moments she simply sat with her eyes closed, feeling the texture of the cover. Finally her eyes snapped open and she dropped the book on her desk. She needed something to wake her up, and she needed it right now.
After recess she decided to have story time. It was usually something she saved for after lunch, but today she couldn't wait. Her class came in, rosy cheeked, laughing, breathless from their games and she gestured for them to sit on the rug they used for story time. Without a word she waited for them to seat themselves, some good natured jostling and rearranging as they all found room for themselves. After they had quited down, she opened the book and ominously read them the title.
"The Labyrinth."
She proceeded to tell them the story of a young girl who had wished her baby brother away to the goblins, then make a deal with their king. If she could get through the Labyrinth to his castle within thirteen hours, she would get the child back. Otherwise he would be gone forever. Usually story time lasted about an hour, the limit that children could sit without becoming fidgety and difficult. Without realizing it Sarah read through the entire book wile they sat spellbound. She finally got the the end, and related the girls final confrontation with the Goblin King.
Sarah found her voice cracking as she said the words, "You have no power over me." She felt a profound sadness wash over her, and had to pause in her reading. Jareth her mind whispered for a moment, then the name was gone. She shook herself and finished the story. After it was over she sat with her head bowed for a moment. She was overcome with emotion, and she had no idea why.
A small voice asked, "Ms. Williams? Are you okay?"
"Yes," she snapped, "I'm fine. It's time for lunch, we spent far too long reading. I guess we'll be working extra hard this afternoon, hmm?"
The class slowly got up and grabbed their lunches. Some of the girls looked like they wanted to cry at this sudden change in their teacher. One boy muttered darkly as he put on his coat, "I wish the goblins would come take Ms. Williams away," while another boy nodded assent.
Sarah heard their soft mutterings and felt a stab of regret. She certainly hadn't been herself today. But before she could say anything to soften her words, the lights flickered and went out. The daylight, streaming merrily in through the windows moments before darkened as though dark storm clouds rolled in. Dark shapes moved about in the shadows, and some of the children screamed. The room was now positively swarming with dark shapes which hissed and laughed amongst themselves. There was a flash, and suddenly a strange man in swirling robes stood in the middle of the room. His arms were crossed over his chest, and he had an expression of triumph on his face.
Sarah gasped. "My god. You're him aren't you. You're the Goblin King."
His eyes darkened with some unidentifiable emotion.
"Yes Sarah. And as you've just been wished away by some thoughtless little child, you are now mine."
"I'm...what?"
He stalked slowly to her, emphasizing each word. "You. Are. Mine," and smiled joyfully.
Something in her melted at the sight of that unguarded smile, but still she stumbled back a step at his advancing form. "But, the children—"
"Won't remember anything."
"But my family—"
"You will be able to visit them eventually."
"But my—"
"But nothing. You are mine, and I am taking you with me. I've waited a long time for this, my dear." He held out his hand and waited for her to take it. She looked slowly from his hand to his eyes, his beautiful mismatched eyes. He really is beautiful, she said to herself. Slowly she stretched out her hand and laid it in his. She was trembling. He tried to reassure her with a comforting pressure on her hand. She smiled shakily, and he pulled her to him. With another flash, and a cloud of glitter they were gone.
Mr. Calvin, the principal, was walking through the halls to his office when he heard a ruckus coming from one of the classes. Sticking his head in the room he saw children running around, sitting in groups shouting, and playing. There was no teacher.
"Quiet!" he shouted. The classroom became deadly still. "Where is Ms. Williams?"
"We don't know, sir."
"Yeah, we came back from recess and she was gone."
"Gone? Okay, I want you all to get in your seats and find something to read. I'm going to get someone to watch you."
Strange, he thought, Sarah is usually so responsible. He set off to track her down, his previous business forgotten.