Author : Caitlin.
Disclaimer : All is Jim Henson.
Rating : R Overall (Language, some sexual content)
Feedback : If you like to [email protected]
Notes : Hi I'm not sure if anyone remembers me *waves* Used to post a long time ago. Stopped for some reason, deleted everything (call it a moment of madness, I did have a reason at the time). Well now I'm back and will hopefully be reposting this in it's entirety over the next few days if anyone's still interested.
The Same Moon
* * * * *
Chapter 1
* * * * *
It had been a long time since Sarah Williams had entered a place so closely linked with the realms of her imagination. The sound of pages turning and the eerie silence of people deep in thought and fantasy stroke a chord of unease in her stomach and she wanted to leave it as soon as she could. However a few years ago the story would have been very different and she would have ached to spend hours in this place, taking in as many stories as she could so to fuel her once colourful mind.
To others, and once herself, a library such as the one in Holybrook held great potential and hours of solitude wrapped up in one's own thoughts and dreams. For Sarah it held reminders of foolish years wasted acting out fairytales in childish ignorance that could never be reality. As she passed the fantasy section she didn't once look at the titles that filled shelves, promising journeys of excitement and adventure. Instead she made her way hurriedly down marble stairs, leaving the shelves behind and collapsed in a chair in the psychology section, a safe haven.
The days of story books had passed for her, she had grown up. It had been a long time coming but after what had happened she had found the strength to pack away her ornaments of dragons and unicorns, her posters of mythical kingdoms and handsome princes and her stacks of books telling of stories of great adventure, tragic romances, and dreams realised. Looking back now her lips formed into a chuckle, how could she have ever let her imagination run away with her like that?
Ever since the incident two years ago where Sarah entered a kingdom that no author could do justice, and met an adversary no writer could ever describe, her life had changed drastically. She never called her friends again after that night, and instead she cleaned her room of remnants of her childhood and reminders of her dreams. With that she too cleared her mind of any flights of fancy and any childish dreams.
Scrapped were her hopes of becoming an actor; portraying the characters of her mind and stories for a living. Instead, in her last year at high school the only aspiration that meant anything to her was becoming a journalist, dealing with facts all the time. Never fiction always facts.
She had told herself that her change in direction was nothing to do with her encounter with the Goblin King and his Labyrinth and that he had no influence in the deterioration of her dreams. Instead, she convinced herself that this outcome was inevitable and her adventure through the Labyrinth merely helped her to realise that she couldn't be a child forever. She needed to grow up. No longer could she be the easily manipulated girl of the crystal ball. She was her own person, she had control. And no one, let alone a Goblin King, could fool her by using her own juvenile dreams.
Her stepmother and father had watched as their once whimsical daughter who lived in her head, stepped out of her shell and became the dedicated and determined individual they had always hoped she would be. To them it was a change for the better, and for Sarah, it was, well yes, a change for the better. Her life was full and complete. She was young, intelligent, she wasn't pregnant nor did she do drugs, she had the rest of her life ahead of her.
Shaking her head as if to reinforce her empty thoughts, Sarah reached for her bag so she could work on her English paper. She had retreated to the library after Karen and her dad had started arguing again, she didn't want to get pulled into another battle between them. Although the past few years had rid Sarah of childish tantrums, it didn't serve to end any arguments between her and her stepmother. Her father said she took after her mother; stubborn as hell and the tenacity and beliefs to go with it. Sarah and her stepmother seemed to have opposing beliefs over the simplest of subjects, from Sarah's lovelife to what Toby was going to have for breakfast.
She recounted countless nights of screaming and shouting, Toby crying and her father yelling. The only reason she didn't leave the house and get away from her disproving stepmother was her baby brother.
Her father's job meant that he spent little time at home and Karen treated Toby with a coldness that scared her. She seemed to lack the inability to communicate with children. She never knew what Toby wanted; a bedtime story or something to eat. After nearly losing her baby brother two years ago, Sarah didn't resent spending nights babysitting Toby. At the moment she had little else to do. The summer holidays meant that most of her friends had gone away with their families, but Sarah's dad's job kept them in Holybrook for the Summer.
So she had nothing to do at the moment but work on papers and her studies, ensuring her place at a top University and journalism scholarship as soon as High school ended. Then she would be able to leave the Goblin city behind for good and forget about her foolish and childish actions there. She could feel her cheeks getting red and hoped that the book she was reading would mask her hot face, as she thought of her meetings with the ruler of the Labyrinth.
Jareth had embarrassed her and played with her, using her dreams as a weapon. Pretending he was in love with her when in reality he was just using Sarah's fantasies to win the game. Yes he had done everything she wanted, he had been her handsome Prince, her evil villain, but in the end it was to serve his own purposes. However she had proved him wrong, instead of letting him cocoon her in her dreams she had been able to break through and say no to the prison he was offering her.
Unknowingly to Sarah a scowl of resentment had formed on her face as she thought of the way the Goblin King had tricked her. Regaining her composure she returned her attentions to the half finished English essay in front of her, but she no longer found herself able to concentrate. She exhaled in annoyance, she had met Jareth but briefly in the Labyrinth and he had used her. Yet two years later he still managed to taint her thoughts and rise uncontrollable emotion in her so that she was unable to think clearly and rationally. Slamming her books shut in anger wishing she could hit the mocking face of the Goblin King himself Sarah collected her belongings and stomped out of the library, cursing herself for letting her thoughts wander in the first place.
* * * * *
From all that he heard about Sarah Williams, the girl herself was not what he had expected. But then from the girl who had solved the Labyrinth and defeated the King could he expect any less?
The man leant against a shelf of books disguised in the shadows and took in every detail of her. Meticulously studying the expressions that flickered across the young girl's face. He had expected -- he wasn't sure what he had expected. Older maybe, wiser, but this girl was full of trapped energy and arrogance, of naiveté and foolish courage. But, now that he thought about it, it made perfect sense. Who else could beat Jareth but someone as arrogant, stubborn and headstrong as himself?
Stubborn enough that he had been forced to enter the mortal realm. He couldn't understand the King's fascination with the place; filled with noise and traffic, pollution and unsightly buildings, devoid of magic and beauty. Everywhere seemed to be tainted by civilisation which wanted to do nothing but destroy. But then he wasn't intrigued by the setting was he? It was the creatures that inhabited it, sources of untapped magic of which Sarah Williams was a prime example.
He had at first deemed Jareth foolish when he discovered how he had rejuvenated the Labyrinth, bringing it back to it's former glory. The human magic was too unstable, too unpredictable to be wielded for any use and their ignorance of their own power continued to serve this fact. But when he visited earth for the first time, he had seen it in their eyes and through their dreams the potential which was too much to resist. And he had also seen that they never had a chance of realising it. With such untamed magic as that no one wanted to teach them any different. It was too dangerous, some would use it recklessly without care for others, it wasn't worth the risk.
But Miss Williams on the other hand was an entirely different matter. Her visit to the kingdom not long ago proved that with their magic, if harnessed young enough when the imagination was still ripe and not yet numbed by the society they had created for themselves, much was possible. The element of danger was still there yes, not just from the King when he discovered what he had done, but if anyone ever realised how easily the magic could be used for a darker intent. But at the moment he had little choice. Jareth refused to admit it but they had no more options, and time was running out.
He watched as Sarah packed away her things quickly with what seemed to be a scorn on her youthful face. One thing Jareth had neglected to mention was just how beautiful the girl who had defeated him was. Pure skin and an almost luminous complexion complemented by brown hair with a red fiery tint. He didn't doubt that the rest of her had matured since her encounter with the King. Since he had been watching her, ensuring he had made the right decision, he had noticed that the girl seemed to always be angry. Not angry at those around her and her life. She always held compassion in her eyes when tending to her younger brother. She was respected among her peers for being an individual who would stand up for her beliefs no matter the consequences. She seemed to have a strong loyalty which was seen in few humans. No, he resolved, the anger and rage couldn't be directed at them. Most likely, the stranger thought to himself, Sarah William's anger was directed at herself.
Almost proving his point she slammed the last of her books shut and made a hasty retreat from the library. The stranger followed like a shadow unseen, unheard unless he wanted to be. He crept behind the angry young woman, slipping in and out of the shadows a mere whisper in the wind. The sky tonight was unusually fresh in this part of the earth and he allowed himself a deep breath of the sweet, dew scent. The full moon highlighted silver strands of silky black raven hair that hung in a ponytail down his back, the only sign that he wasn't a part of the dusk and shade cast by the towering trees along the path.
The area was secluded from the small town of Holybrook, a route which he discovered that Sarah took often as a shortcut. The perfect setting. There were few places for his deed to take place in the town of Holybrook, only here did there seem to be some inklings of magic. As perfect a setting for such an act as you could achieve in this dull place and tonight....well tonight was the perfect night. The stars almost sung in the black velvet of the night sky signalling the concentration of the magic, the trees served as a canvas to his power and soon hers. A blank canvas ready to paint on it the fortunes of his world and this girl's. That was if he had the strength. Whispering a silent prayer to the breeze that caressed his cheek he hoped that he could prove Jareth wrong tonight.
He stopped. There was no need to follow the girl so closely now for her path ended where his sight ceased. He hoped that Sarah Williams appreciated just how beautiful a night this was for her world. How tonight the forest seemed almost of enchanted story tales, how tenderly the moonshine stroked the legion of oak leaves, how tonight predators seemed uninterested in their prey and interested only in the brilliant, luminescent moon which seemed to pierce the fabric of their sky.
He watched as the girl reached the furthest regions of his sight and neared a magnificent oak tree, devious in it's strength. The man with the raven hair closed his eyes slowly, and imagined just how deceptive that oak was. How in reality it was as fragile as a single stemmed rose blowing in a strong gale. How, even though the oak had been growing and weaving it's route towards the moon, it's journey was fruitless. For the oak was devoid of strength and stability. How instead the tree was so delicate that at any moment the merest flicker of the moon might send it on it's inevitable tumble downwards to the earth, the trunk crushing anything in it's path.
A blood curdling scream, echoing through the stillness of the night, was the only indication of the silent descent of the magnificent oak. And as the shadow like man opened his eyes he knew it was done and now there was no turning back.
* * * * *
After all she had been through, after all the perils of the Labyrinth she had faced and conquered, this was how her life would end. As she could feel the massive trunk crush her lungs and smash into her youthful face, she felt like laughing uncontrollably at the irony of the situation.
But the pain did not permit.
She never knew a feeling could be this intense, her mind clamoured to hold on to any coherent thoughts but all she could concentrate on was the pain coursing through her and the life slipping through her fingertips.
She was vaguely aware of blood dripping from the back of the head where her skull had cracked on the stone path. It seemed to trickle from her scalp in slow motion, forming a river which flowed far away from her. Within it's currents it seemed to take all her thoughts, her feelings, her mind, her dreams. Everything that was Sarah Williams seemed to be oozing from her skull.
Then in a moment of clarity the pain seemed to disappear, but it was replaced with something far worse. She remembered reading stories of near life situations where the people who were so close to leaving this world felt a moment of contentment, of fulfilment and peace. Sarah felt nothing like this. The only word to describe the feeling that raked her body in long drawn out jolts was terror. Sheer terror.
If she had the power, the ability to control any of her body, she would have screamed a scream loud enough to shatter mirrors and crystal balls, but none of her body seemed to belong to her. She was completely and utterly helpless. All that was and would ever be seemed to falling and shattering all around her, and for a moment before the terror consumed her once more, the feeling of falling and crashing, of worlds destroyed seemed almost familiar.
Unconsciously tears were sliding from her now heavy lids and she could make sense of nothing. It was all just a haze, but then something unknown flickered. Unfamiliar to the panic of the last few stitches of time. At first it was like a gust of wind grazing her cheek, but more intense. She knew then that she was not alone. She wasn't destined to die here helpless, frightened, trapped by an oak.
The gust of wind turned into a shadow. A shadow which seemed to wrap itself around the whole of her body, exposing none of her soft, pale skin to the stabbing of the night air. An embrace so tight, so comforting, and she relaxed as the shadow took form in front of her.
In her daze she looked up to the face of the body that cradled her in it's arms and all she could see was eyes of blue. A blue that was so striking she couldn't tear her tired eyes away. This was what poets meant when they spoke of eyes you could get lost in. No colour on earth could describe them, not of seas, nor of skies, not of gems, nor of any flower. Indescribable.
No one should have eyes that blue she thought, no one.
In her trance Sarah no longer noticed that an unwelcome tree trunk no longer bore into her chest, nor that the pain had gone. Nor did she notice that she was no longer on the cold, gravel path. She didn't notice that she was no longer on her world at all. All she could concentrate on was those eyes. They were comforting and so tender. Gazing only at her.
But then they lost their beauty. The eyes seemed to tremble as if their owner was worried. No not worried, terrified. The panic rose in Sarah's chest again, and with it the pain in her skull and the life seemed to slip away again. She screamed long and hard as she felt herself falling from the embrace. Outstretched arms grasped for her but she was out of reach and falling once more.
She landed with a heavy thud on hard ground and struggled to decipher her surroundings. It felt like she was on the edge of a cliff. So close, that close, to falling. And there was that feeling again, reminiscent of memory. This place was so familiar. A place where time and order did not exist. A place floating between worlds where decisions were made and fates sealed.
A shock. The pain was still there making her limbs heavy but she could move this time and somewhat order her muddled thoughts. Pulling herself up heavily from the floor she could sense something. Her head shot up in alarm.
Someone was near.
Unable to stand properly she found it was easier to remain on her knees. Breathing heavily and gasping for escaping air.
Then she saw him.
Hair of night sky, ivory skin, and eyes of an unimaginable blue. Dressed all in black; boots, shirt and trousers. If it wasn't for the eyes Sarah would have thought him a shadow. He turned to face her, but averted her searching eyes.
"I'm sorry," the figure said solemnly, avoiding her stare.
Sarah couldn't find the air to reply.
"I thought I could take you, I thought, I thought.....dammit," his voice broke and he clenched his fists, turning from her, cursing under his breath.
After a moment he turned back to Sarah who remained panting heavily upon her knees. So close to the edge now.
"It wasn't meant to be like this Sarah, you have to see that I had no choice. I thought I could take us both, it seems he was right after all," The shadow spoke, back towards her. She could see his chest rise in a heavy sigh and he faced her once more.
"Please forgive me Sarah Williams."
The ground of the unknown cliff beneath Sarah's fingertips crumbled and gave way beneath her. Her hands clutched, looking for anything to hang on to. No, no, not like this, she thought. Not before she'd had a chance to right her wrongs, not before, not before......Oh please God not like this she prayed. She stretched her hands upwards hoping that something, anything would save her from the darkness she was plummeting towards.
A hand clasped around hers, a firm grip, so tight it almost broke all the bones in her hand. But the suffocating grasp around her fingers was better then falling into the bottomless pit below her. She allowed herself to breathe a sigh of relief.
For a second she was hanging there, suspended between worlds before the uncompromising grip tugged her roughly upwards so that the edge was within her grasp. Her fingers clutched the edge of the rock tightly, and after taking a few gasps of air, trying to focus on anything except for the pain, she looked up. Expecting to see the face of the man with the blue eyes.
Two mismatched iris's stared at her, a slight glint of amusement in them and Sarah was once again filled with dread and confusion.
"You!" She spat resentfully with all the strength she had left.
"Such bitterness Sarah, I think you should remember just who is the one hanging precariously from a cliff,"
That same haughty arrogance, a voice of such superiority. Even now when she was so close to death he seemed to be mocking her.
The Goblin King. She thought she had destroyed him. That with the words him and his whole Kingdom had ceased to exist. But here he was as real as the pain that throbbed in the hand still clenching his own. He was everything that she had remembered and all that she had tried to forget.
The wild untamed hair, the pale luminescent skin. The thin lips which seemed to always be twisted into a permanent sneer, the sharp curve of his brows. Such power about him all the time and he knew it. In his presence she felt fifteen years old once again. Gullible and naive and she hated the feeling. Maybe it would have been better if she had fallen.
Swiftly he pulled the rest of her over the cliff so that she landed in a painful heap but at least she was on solid ground. She would have kissed the rock beneath her feet if it wasn't for the fact that she could still feel the Goblin King's intense stare.
Looking up from beneath her dishevelled brown locks she met his eyes with defiance, trying to hold onto any remainders of dignity she might have left. She couldn't read the emotion in his eyes. Pity? Disgust? Contempt?
After all she had humiliated him and destroyed his kingdom, well at least she thought she had.
But that didn't matter as once again she felt pain pumping through her veins and she collapsed almost unconscious to the floor. She couldn't lose consciousness, not when he was so near. She tried to steady her breaths, trying to hold onto awareness. Her chest was heaving now, and her racing heart threatened to escape from her chest.
"Are you mad or just plain ignorant? Did you not listen to any of my warnings?" Jareth's voice rang out into the vacuum of space. Although he didn't raise his voice that much, there was a grave seriousness to his accusation that chilled her.
Sarah thought he was talking to her for a moment and tried to make sense of his words, but then another voice spoke in reply. The casual, almost aloof, tones from before.
"Well you're here aren't you?" The offhandedness of the reply served to only anger Jareth more and now his voice grew louder.
"And what if I wasn't dear brother?" Jareth spat.
Brother? Sarah wondered hazily.
"Then you and that girl would be suspended in time forever!" His voice was serious now and cold. The King had once again regained his icy calm and Sarah could hear the thump of boots as he walked closer to the man he called brother.
"These stunts are getting old Christian. We don't have the time to waste on foolish games,"
"Or you haven't got the nerve Jareth?" The dark man suddenly became more animated and Sarah sensed a spark of daring in his voice.
Rather then shouting, or any of the cruel comments that Sarah knew the Goblin King was capable of, Sarah heard a chuckle. The same mocking, all knowing laugh. The same laugh that had left her at the beginning of the Labyrinth all those years ago. The same laugh she had grown to detest echoed throughout this place piercing her ears.
A gust of wind shook the floating cliff, whipping Sarah's dark hair into her face and she no longer heard the two voices. Maybe they had both left her, Sarah thought. Maybe she was so pathetic, so unimportant to Jareth that he had just abandoned her without a care. So now she was lost in between worlds, in such agony and so very close to dying and no one cared.
But all her mind was occupied with was the obvious fact that it really was just a lie all those years ago wasn't it? All he cared about was the game and his pride. All the while she had held onto a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe...... No, he'd made a fool of her once again.
Sarah's body seized up in agony again. She was so confused, so angry and it seemed that none of her questions would ever be answered.
She felt a wave of nausea grab hold of her, no longer could she hold onto consciousness. Eyelids fluttered close and her limbs relaxed into the cold hard stone of the tomblike ground. Defeated. And beneath heavy, sombre lashes fell a single tear of regret.
* * * * *
Chapter 2
* * * * *
When Sarah's eyes fluttered open a bright light filled them which made her temples throb and her head ache and she figured that she was dead and this was heaven. But once her pupils contracted to adjust to the amount of light she realised that heaven was nothing like she'd expected. In fact it wasn't heaven at all, but neither was it any other place she recognised.
She found she was covered in exquisite white silk sheets which wrapped around her body like a smooth second skin. Her eyes followed the smooth ripple of material to find she was laying in an elegant mahogany bed in a room which matched the grace of the sheets.
The room was not large, but grand nonetheless; dark red walls, rich red wood dresser and furniture. Accompanied by pictures on the walls which could grace even the Louvre. Wine red velvet curtains to the left of her were ajar, letting in a strong beam of sunlight which had blinded her not so long ago.
Her head was still cloudy and she tried to remember what had happened. She remembered the tree and being crushed and falling, just falling. Then everything was jagged fragments of memories and images that made no sense to her but tugged at memory. It merely made her head pound when she tried to put together the puzzle.
Perplexed, she tested arms and legs and was confused to find that everyone of her muscles, although weary, did not hurt in the slightest. She looked underneath the cream chemise she had found herself wearing to inspect her damaged ribs, but her skin was flawless and smooth. Testing her head and face for scars or blood she was further surprised to find her complexion clear and no evidence of being trapped under a large oak tree. All that remained was a feeling of drowsiness and uncertainty.
Cautiously she attempted to rise from the bed to see from what surroundings the blinding light was seeping through the curtains from. Pulling herself up slowly, her limbs still heavy, she paused for a second allowing a wave of dizziness to pass. Then using the bedpost to balance herself she managed to stand upright. If not she feared her legs would give way beneath her. The mere effort of the act found her panting heavily and her limbs trembling in uncertainty and she realised just how weak she felt.
Just what had happened?
Where on earth was she?
That question was soon to be answered. With her remaining trembling hand she whipped the luxurious dark red material across to reveal her surroundings.
The small ray of light from before was a mere flicker compared to the intensity of the beams that filled her eyes and Sarah brought her free hand up in shock to cover her eyes, almost losing her balance and falling. She grabbed hold of the curtain, almost dragging it from it's rail and managed to steady herself once more.
Slowly, a finger at a time, she removed her hand from her face and opened her lids to solve the mystery.
"Oh God,"
Sarah's lips formed the words but nothing, not even a hoarse croak, came out of her mouth.
It was more beautiful and more magnificent then she had remembered. Sarah felt an ache of memory deep in the chest and she knew where she was; the Castle. The Castle she had run to two years ago, the castle in the wild, untamed Labyrinth she had fought her way through, the castle that belonged to...
It was all flooding back to her now.....the shadow with the blue eyes, the place suspended between time that she had almost fallen from. And him.
Jareth.
She closed her eyes so to savour the memory of her initial recognition of the place. A place of fantasy, a place of magic, a place where dreams came true.
The room was high, near the turrets at the top of the castle. So high that far off in the distance, almost beyond the reach of her sight she could see a sun was rising over the tall stone walls and hedgerows, highlighting the odd leaf or stone. After that the landscape was a blur of colours and nature, of forests and lakes, fields and swamps, places of such fascination and magic she knew she would have remembered it if she had passed through them in her quest. The landscape then gradually dispersed into fields of green and the Goblin city.
At least where the Goblin city should have been.
No she couldn't be wrong about that. She was in the castle in the centre of the Labyrinth. That meant that after the vast stretches of the Castle's grounds should be the Goblin city. The chaotic, unkempt city. Full of rubbish, escaped poultry and badly constructed small houses. Running around it should have been the deformed and ugly, but stupid goblins.
Instead the village that surrounded the Castle grounds was nothing like the memories that her mind served her. Towering over the fences of the flowers and trees that grew to contain the Castle were buildings that were orderly and intricately designed.
From where she was standing, isolated from the what seemed to be a City, Sarah could make out that although they did not match the glamour of the castle the buildings were still graceful and classic. A complete contrast to what she expected.
They varied from stone built structures with turrets and balconies, with vines creeping up the cobbled walls to small thatched cottages, the slightest attention to detail obvious.
And out of them not a thousand running, screaming goblins, but in the distance she could make out the silhouette of.......of people.
People?
Focusing her pupils to make sure her eyes were not deceiving her she stared at the city. Yes people, they were people.
Sarah's legs began to fail her and she collapsed back onto the bed, the curtains swinging back in place to obscure the view once more.
It was different, so different yet so the same. Was this the same Labyrinth she had visited two years ago. Yes, she was certain of it. So what had happened to the Goblin City?
Determined to find some answers to her questions, despite her obvious fatigue, Sarah knew she had to find somebody, anybody who could tell her what in the name of God was going on.
Even if that person was the Goblin King himself.
Thoughts echoed in her head; I should be dead, her mind told her, I should be dead. So why on earth am I back here instead?
Taking a few deep gasps of air to prepare herself, against all sanity and her body's protests she attempted to rise once more.
The room spun wildly. She saw double and her knees melted. Her stomach heaved and she grabbed it quickly, murmuring curses to herself. This wasn't going to be easy.
As she took her first step her vision spun crazily, but although she teetered dangerously she managed to stay upright. Clutching the wall for support she made it to the grand mahogany door and turned the brass door knob. The door opened and a long hallway of wooden floor and dark stone walls stretched in front of her. Candles fixed on the wall shone brightly, competing with the sun rays that shone from a window at the bottom of the corridor. Although it was obviously daytime, no windows were open, no curtains, save one, were pulled and the candles were alight.
She noticed with mild curiosity that the candle flames had a strange halo. Her head pounded anew, and her stomach did a dizzying dance. But Sarah was stubborn and refused to give up. Slowly and tentatively she placed one foot in front of her and made a very gradual descent down the hallway, hand pressed against the cold stone the whole way for support.
