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What Dreams May Come	By : nocturnemskoneko Category: G through L > Labyrinth Views: 3489 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Labyrinth, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-What Dreams May Come
- 2-Chapter 2
- 1
- 2
I do not own
Labyrinth in anyway... wish Jareth would give me my dreams and let me own him.
:)

What Dreams May Come

Chapter
2

Jareth turned away
from the bed and retreated, going up to the room that he could see from below.
When he stepped onto the landing, he stopped, his eyes captivated as he looked
upon the walls. On one wall was a mural; compete in every detail of the view of
the Labyinth, the Goblin City and the Castle from the hill above. He looked at
it, taking in the painstaking brush strokes his superior vision could still see
clearly. The entire scene had been painted with a small brush, each stroke
carefully and purposefully placed.

He passed by the door
to the balcony outside, moving to the next wall. There were sheets and sheets
of paper covered with drawings of Underground. People and places he knew, but
she had never met or been to during her time there, all drawn in a surreal
amount of detail. Others of the friends she�d made while there. He looked down
seeing that the sketches were scattered all over the floor as well. He moved
carefully as he walked the length of the wall, growing more and more alarmed as
he went along. How could she know these places, these people? It was as if
she�d been walking invisible among them.

He turned to the
easel that sat next to the window in the end wall. His eyes met his own
visage. The scene portrayed him at a ball. He was holding a feathered mask.
He wore all black and seemed to be watching a Sidhe woman on the dance floor.
He was looking at the woman with unrevealing eyes, but the smirk upon his lips
said that he knew something about the woman on the floor that he was holding
against her. This party had been two weeks ago. He remembered this moment with
clarity. The Lady Ariel had been for sometime trying to undermine him. He had
finally learned enough of her secrets to put her in her place.

He went back to the
door that led to a balcony. He opened it carefully and stepped out into the
chill autumn air. He let himself drop into one of the plastic chairs that sat
there. He let everything that he had seen to this point drift in his mind.
Gods, he felt so drained, so raw. He had to pull himself together. He rubbed
his hand across his face as he propped his legs up on the wooden rails, careful
to avoid the wild ivy growing there. What was going on? He was missing
something, something important. If she�d been able to see all these things, why
had she never made her presence known to him? Did she still hate him so much?

He looked around
him. Though he never really paid that much attention when he came Aboveground,
he soon realized that there was not another living soul around them. This place
she lived in was isolated, surrounded by dense woods on all sides. This place
shimmered with a low level power, just visible to his Sight. It reminded him of
an earlier time, in the years before the industrial revolution, when belief had
fed the world of Underground and made it and its inhabitants strong. This power
he sensed was nothing as opposed to what this mortal realm had possessed then
but it was similar, just weaker. It was Sarah, and Sarah alone that generated
this energy.

He closed his eyes
and allowed his senses to stretch out. Touching the power that he had seen,
feeling it, tasting it. There was nothing of the Unseelie in it. If was tinged
with a sense of sadness, there was a longing of some kind that hovered within
it, but thee was nothing evil about it. Opening his eyes, he came to several
conclusions at once. 1) He�d wronged her. Nothing that lived in the bounds of
these energies could do the things he�d accused her of. 2) She out of all the
mortals he�d ever encountered had not lost belief, true dreams when she reached
adulthood. 3) This power felt familiar. He had felt this same power infusing
his Labyrinth and his Kingdome, speeding it�s healing.

He definitely needed
answers, but first he needed to feel normal again, at least somewhat. The
energies here could not power his way back home. They were not strong enough
for that. They could, however, be used to his benefit. He closed his eyes and
reached into the energies around him, tapping them cautiously.

He felt the energy
infuse him, filling the empty places that ached, rejuvenating him. He could
almost feel his body start healing. He needed one other thing. He took some of
this energy and formed it carefully in his hands, chanting softly. He uttered
the release phrase and felt the shielding spell settle over his wile being. He
breathed in deeply. The chill of the sword downstairs was no longer affecting
him. He stood, stretching languorously. He felt a little more like himself.

Jareth re-entered the
house and made his way carefully down the stairs. Pickin the the blanket that
he�d dropped earlier, he wrapped it around himself in the manner of a toga.
Taking a deep breath, he moved to the bed. �Let�s try this again,� he said to
the emptiness around him, �calmly this time.�

�Sarah, wake up,
Sarah.� He leaned forward, whispering softly into her ear, bracing himself on
either side of her body.

Sarah opened her eyes
slowly, her breathing picking up as she realized that Jareth was leaning over
her. She must have passed out. She schooled herself to calm. She had to
control her emotions. Apparently without his shield, he could feel what she
felt. If he�d been going to kill her, she�d have already been dead.

�Jareth.�

Her eyes met his as
she turned her head to face his voice. �If you�re going to kill me, get it over
with already, otherwise get the hell off of me.� He ched sed softly as he sat
back up, that was his Sarah, always pushing his patience. At least he wasn�t
getting any emotional residue from her. It had been his lack of shielding and
not her before. For some reason, that made him happy.

Sarah pushed herself
up into a more dignified position facing him. �As I said before, what are you
doing up? You should be resting. You�ve had a rough 26 hours from what I can
tell.� He just shook his head. �I�ll have answers first, and then, maybe,
rest, Sarah.�

She nodded. �Let me
go get into some real clothes then. I�ll be back in a moment.� She pushed
herself off the bed, moving past him. She paused just at the door, turning to
look at his blanket clad form, her eyes making their way from his head to his
feet. �I�ll see what I can find for you as well.�

H smiled as she
closed her door. Had they actually managed to have a civil conversation with no
raised voices?

She emerged from the
room a few minutes later, her long dark hair pulled back into a pony tail,
barefoot, in a pair of beat up jeans and a t-shirt that bore a dragon design.
She tossed some clothes in his direction. �Feel free to change in my room. I
think those should fit, or at least close enough.� She continued through the
door way to the room beyond. �Are you hungry? I can fix you something to eat.�

�Yes,� he said, his voice colored with confusion as
he watched her walk away from him. �That would be nice.

She�d changed on him
again, from anger to kindness in the blink of an eye. She was a whirlwind of
emotion. He had heard once that mortals were short lived because they burned
out from their brightness. Having known Sarah, he could see the reality of the
statement. He stood, then disappeared through her bed chambers doorway.

< sty style="font-size: 11pt">

�Jareth, lunch is
ready.� She called to him as she sat his food on the dining table. She took
her plate and a wine cooler and moved to the chair in the living room. She set
the plate on the arm of the chair and took a long drink of the beverage before
she started eating.

Jareth emerged from
the bedroom slowly. The jeans he wore were at least two sizes to big, and the
t-shirt hung loosely on his frame. His feet were bare. He walked from the room
seeming a bit embarrassed about how he looked.

�Are those ok? I can
try to find something else.�

�They will be fine,
Sarah, do not trouble yourself. Are you sure that the gentleman these belong to
won�t mind me wearing them?� He had stopped to look at her halfway between the
table and the bedroom door. He had not even considered the idea that she had a
man in her life before she had given him the clothes. This situation was wildly
inappropriate.

An awkward silence
crept between them. It stretched for what seemed to be an age, but was truly
only a few minutes. Sara broke the silence as she broke the eye contact.

�You wanted to
talk.� The bottle she was holding suddenly seemed very interesting.

Jareth looked at
her. He almost felt the mood in the room physically change. The shutters came
down around her. So that�s how it was to be. Well, two could play at this
game. He brought himself up and schooled his expression to its usual mask.

�Yes, we do need to
talk. I want some answers.� His words as he spoke were clipped and precise.

A chill breeze met
him as he entered the room. The curtains at the open window swayed in the
breeze. He could she her just as she reached the tree line surrounding her
small yard. He shook his head. What was this woman�s problem? Why was she so
very difficult? Was it an impossibility for her to just once give him even the
smallest amount of respect his title gave him the right to?

He slid through her
window easily, landing on silent feet. He moved around the yard careful not to
be seen and trying to judge the best way to go to get into the forest unseen.
He moved like a cat, carefully stalking his prey. He never lost sight of her as
she wound her way down what looked like a well used trail.

Jareth watched as she
pulled from the driveway, making sure she was gone before allowing a stream of
curses to flow from his lips. What the hell was her problem? What was so very
difficult about what he wanted to know? He shook his head, still venting as he
brought his fist down on the kitchen counter. He took a deep breath and began to
count backwards from 100.

How could she do this
to him? She could take him from one extreme to another within seconds. It was
this along with countless other traits that drew him to her though. He had not
realized how much he had wanted to see her until he woke up and found her lying
on the floor yesterday. Damn the woman and her stubbornness! Damn him for
letting his emotions rule him. She had already denied him once. There was no
way in hell he would permit her to do so again.

If she was like Fae
women, this shopping would take hours. He could do as he said he would or he
could try to dig up whatever he could about her life now. It appeared that she
lived alone up here on this mountain, but apparently there was at least one
village close enough for shopping.

He thought about it a
moment. Forget rest, right now he needed knowledge. And the most likely place
he would get that knowledge was her sleeping chamber. He made his way to her
room and flipped on the light. While he�d been in here earlier, he hadn�t
really paid that much attention. He had simply changed clothes and left. It
had a bathing chamber within it and a large closet. There were a couple of
pieces of framed artwork on the walls, signed by a Michael Whelan. There was a
shelf that ran the length of one wall, with figures and plaques. The figures
were in packaging that had their names written upon it. He gazed upon the
figures, with a bemused glint in his eyes.

One was Ludo, another
was Hoggle, there was a Fiery, the seer with the bird on his head, and a pixie
all lined up in a sort of haphazard way. Next to each was a book, encased in
glass, with a metal plaque upon the base. Each read:

Young Reader�s Award

Presented to Sarah
Williams

They each bore a date
as well. He Looked at each. They were dustdusted with the same energies that
he�d felt before. Then back behind all the others he found another. He looked
at the miniature version of himself, shocked that she�d written about him. The
book was entitled simply �The Goblin King� The artwork on the cover showed him
as he�d first appeared to Sarah, black cloak and armor, smugly superior.

He smiled to
himself. She was writing books for children using her time Underground as a
basis. Apparently, the books were well received. He reached out and gently
lifted the dusty package containing his figure. There were some differences of
course. But it had his mismatched eyes, his wild hair. The outfit a replica of
the one on the cover of the book.

He leaned forward to
read the plaque on �his� book. It had been the first she wrote, if the date was
an indication. He put down the figure and grasped the glass case that the book
was in. It was hinged on the back with a simple closure holding the book in
place. He unlatched it, and pulled the book out. He flipped it open.

The first page bore a
simple message.

For Jareth

                -To
make the Labyrinth live again.




Sarah

He read the story quickly, flipping through the
colorful pages. It told a simple story of who the Goblin King was and what the
Goblin King did. It told the truth of him, but turned the tale around.&nbThe The
book was about him and him alone. She�d made him a hero, who saved children
from truly evil lives. But the call had to be true, his aid absolutely
necessary, otherwise he would not appear. She also seemed to have forgotten to
tell them the right words. He laughed to himself as he looked at the shelf
again.

She was giving them a
new life, a new hope. She was letting the mortal children know that these
people and places were real. Only a few would grow up and still believe, but
sometimes, it only took one.

He re-read the
dedication. She had written it for him, had started all this for him and for
the Labyrinth. Somehow she had known how far he�d fallen and with these books
she had reached to pick him up. He shook his head. He put the book back into
it�s case an set it back on the shelf and then when to her closet.

The closet contained
clothes and boxes. There were 3 racks for clothes only one was in use. There
were some dresses, there, a couple of nice blouses, one or two suits. Sarah
seemed not to own much she deemed worth hanging. There was nothing in this
closet that might have belonged to a man.

He walked further
into the closet and peered into a box that already had its lid laid aside.&;
;
Inside there were some letters, two books, some ribbon a couple of cards. The
contents of the box had the feeling of age, just a touch of the musty odor of
misuse. He reached in pulled out the folded piece of paper that lay on top.

He unfolded it and
read it aloud, hoiceoice resonating in the enclosed space he sat within.

Sar-

I�m sorry to do this
while your sleeping. I can�t live like this. I�m leaving tonight. Someday,
maybe you�ll find the real world. If you do, look me up.

Mark

He raised an eyebrow,
and put the letter back where he�d found it. He reached for another box. Her
toys, from her room when she was young, filled it to the brim. He recognized
them from his occasional flights by there. He lifted the lid from a third box.
More toys. Nothing even remotely recent.

He walked back into
the bedroom and closed the closet door. He walked over to her dresser. There
was a single picture hanging on the mirror, trapped in between the glass and
it�s wood frame. It was Toby, not long after her visit to Underground. A
string of colored beads hung on one corner of the mirror. A piece of chording
hung from the other. There were two small boxes on the dresser. One held some
cosmetics, the other a small selection of jewelry.

He moved over to the
chest of drawers. Opening the drawers slowly, he found that all it held were
art supplies. The drawers were filled with canvas, paints, chalk and sketch
pads. Atop the chest was a small black box, he thought for a moment, a
television, the mortals called it. It was small as opposed to what most mortals
seemed to have.

Nothing in this room
other than the books. �Damn.�

Did she really have
no one? There weren�t any family pictures other than the one picture of Toby on
the mirror. There was no sign that anyone besides her was here, or had been her
for a very long time. He turned off the light in the room, standing with his
arms crossed while he tried to decide where to look next.

He went into the
living room and threw himself into the chair she normally sat in. Something
black on the floor, caught his eye, just on the edge of his vision. He bent
over the arm of the chair and reached beneath it, pulling a large bag from
beneath the chair.

She turned the radio
up, forcing her thoughts from her mind. She simply sang with the song on the
radio. The sun finished setting as she drove over the hill. Her actual
driveway was just ahead. She pushed the remote on for the garage door just as
she pulled in. Once the door opened, she slowly drove in.

Sarah brought the
truck to a halt with a lurch, forgetting the clutch and killing the engine as
she did so. She opened the truck door, remembering only after the fact to close
the garage door. She stepped out of the truck, bracing herself with both hands
as that first wonderful head rush came over her. She closed her and and smiled
crookedly.

She leaned forward,
and felt for the bed liner switch, afraid to open her eyes until the world
stopped spinning. She caught it and pulled it up. She heard the bed liner
unlatch with a click. She stood a couple more minutes, and just as she decided
she could move safely, the song came on. It�s first haunted chords mesmerizing
her.

�I�m so tired of
being here

Suppressed by all of
my childish fears�

Sarah�s body started moving
of it�s own volition. The garage light blinked off, leaving her washed in the
moonlight flooding in from the windows. The dance was slow, circling in a small
pattern. She brought her arms up into the framing angles of a waltz, the hand
that should have been holding her partner�s hand was holding her bottle. She
started singing softly, her voice blending easily with the girl on the radio.

Jareth lay in the dark as
she drove her vehicle into the garage. He waited for her to join him in the
house impatiently, so he could get the truth from &nbs But she never came in.
The light from the garage blinked off.

Was she not coming in? He
stood, shaking the blanket off of his body and started moving toward the door.
Once he got there he tugged it open, readying to berate her for being so slow.
He froze as he caught the sight before him, his words dying in his throat.
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What Dreams May Come