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Shattered	By : TarnishedArmour Category: G through L > Labyrinth Views: 7713 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: Based upon the work of Jim Henson; specifically Labyrinth, copyright 1986 by Jim Henson & associated parties. I do not own or have legal rights to Labyrinth, etc., or make any profit from them. *Individual disclaimers for other works in

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Sarah searched the tree and found one green-and-yellow basket within reach from the ground. She tugged on the basket and it snapped loose from the tree with ease. Grinning at the thought of an old song and a basket tree, Sarah took the basket over to a little table that was set up outside the cottage.
The meal was simple, light, and quite delicious. A simple sandwich was inside, along with a small jug of cider. Finally, at the bottom of the basket, was dessert, a ripe peach. Sarah loved peaches, even after eating the enchanted fruit Jareth had sent to her via Hoggle, she loved them. One bad apple and all that. In this case, one freaky dream from eating a peach does not all peaches freaky make.
It was an old and familiar truism, but as Sarah finished the peach and rose to explore the cottage, she felt a familiar spinning feeling.
"What have I done?" she whispered as her limbs grew slack. The cottage around her faded into a crystal room.
Inside the crystal walls were rich, hedonistic furnishings. What else could she expect form Jareth's bedroom?
Bedroom?
Sarah found herself dressed, not in a sweet ballgown, but in a rich red brocade robe. Underneath, she had nothing on. A little fearful and a lot upset, Sarah searched for Jareth. It didn't take long to find him.
Jareth lounged next to the fire and smiled at the woman in front of him. She was in his room, but not inside his castle. Ergo, she had eaten the peach in the basket. Lovely. She was scared, and while that was gratifying, it was also a bit disappointing. Sweet, young, and inexperienced. He looked at her as she tried not to squirm or blush. Very inexperienced. This was going to be…not dull. Dull was not the word. What was it the humans used? Baby steps? This was going to be another baby step, and he really, really wanted to run.
As Sarah was conveniently mute, Jareth figured it was up to him to say something.
"Oh, come now," he drawled. "Don't tell me you haven't wondered."
"I've wondered, but this is all a bit much," she managed to choke out. "Wondering is one thing. Like before, I wondered what a masquerade would be like in the old sense, but I wasn't ready to be part of it. Not really. This is…"
"Not the same at all. No one is laughing or jeering at you. I'm the only one leering at you, but you're just so worthy of a good leer. An ogle even." Jareth noted that his jokes weren't making a dent in her fear. His expression closed and became carefully polite, even though his voice was gentle. "Are you really that terrified of the idea, Sarah?"
"I…Well…There's just…" Sarah stopped and took a deep breath. Jareth liked the fact that she took a deep breath. It made the top of the robe separate and loosen just a little bit more, leaving more for him to enjoy ogling. "I don't know."
"Mm." Jareth pursed his lips and gave her a long look. "If you're going to be this delicate, Sarah," he said kindly, "the rest of the labyrinth is going to be difficult for you. You've not yet passed the first wall."
"Wall? You mean the doors-"
"No, the first wall." Jareth paused. "There are twenty-seven walls to my labyrinth. Do you know why?"
"Three times three times three," Sarah answered immediately. "It's a sacred number to the same sacred number, or in human terms, three cubed." She paused and thought. "And the two and the seven added together make nine, which is divided into a three of threes. So it's an infinte number, which makes it, well, sacred."
"Exactly. And you've come far today, but you've further yet to go. And you're not to the first of these walls. No, the gates don't count." He paused and deliberately drew up a memory. "How are you enjoying my labrinth?"
"it's…" Sarah paused, remembering the exchange from last time. She did not repeat it, but instead marked another tally in the memory column. "It's not as easy as I could say it was, but it hasn't required all that much thought from me yet. It's not what I had expected, Jareth."
"And yet, there are dangers untold," he continued. "Why are they untold?"
"I…don't understand."
"Why are you nervous now?" he asked, pointing out their wardrobe and chambers again. He was wearing a black robe and his gloves, nothing else.
"I'm in your room, Jareth." The unspoken 'duh' hung on the air between them.
"And?"
"And…I don't feel old enough to be in here. I mean, you're, what, a few millennia old and I'm just eighteen-"
"Mortal years mean nothing here. Our time is measured differently. I explained that, Sarah."
"Well, I never really dated much. I was…" Sorrow filled her eyes and she turned away from him.
"Scared? Uninterested?" he asked, his voice light. She shook her head, still not looking at him. Then, huskier, more darkly, "Wounded?"
"Yes," she whispered. "Wounded. I knew that the boys at school would never understand, especially when I couldn't explain everything…"
"So you didn't bother." Jareth smiled.
"Did you?" Sarah asked, hating herself for asking something she wasn't sure she wanted to hear.
"Oh, I bothered." A wicked smile flickered on his lips while his eyes grew hot with pleasant memories. "Lots of women." It felt like a punch to the gut. "But it didn't help much," he sighed. Jareth walked over to her, catfooted, and wrapped his arms around her. He kissed her hair, her neck, her ear, her cheek-any available skin. Then he moved to her modestly clad shoulders, letting his eyes dip down to scope out the shadows under her slightly open robe.
Sarah closed her eyes and felt Jareth's lips and hands as they slid over her. She wanted to learn from him, now, so much. But she wasn't ready for this lesson. The realization came to her on a gasp.
Whirling around in Jareth's arms, she pressed against him and kissed his lips. Jareth felt a surge of triumph and pressed his advantage, but Sarah managed to bring the kiss to a natural conclusion without giving in.
"I realize," she said softly to Jareth, "that I want this, but I'm not…ready--I hate that phrase--yet. Desires that we're not old enough to understand or explore are part of being human, and yet without those desires coming upon us, we can never grow." The sound of slowly cracking glass surrounded them. Sarah spoke more quickly. "What I want and what I can handle are two different things right now. I want to…more than you know. You're too much for me right now--no, not now. You're too much for me in this moment, Jareth."
"Soon," he said as the cracks ran up the sides of the crystal room, beginning to meet with other cracks.
"Soon," she whispered back, her eyes promising more than she realized to a man who read wishes like children's books. Sarah wished she were ready, but wishing did not always make it so--not even here among the enchantments he commanded.
The room faded and Sarah felt the lingering touch of Jareth's gloves on her cheek as tears began to form in her eyes.
"Why do realizations like this hurt so much?" she whispered. "I should be used to things like this now, but why does it hurt?" Then answer came from within her, from the place she recognized from her last trip here. It hurt for the same reason the confusion was so constant last time--this time, she was here, it was real, and it was happening to her, not a character in a book.
Inside the little cottage, Sarah woke, her throat tight with the desire to cry. She pulled out her booklet, wrote the realization and the tally, and looked at the scores.
"I'm not even to the first wall yet," she despaired. After a moment of feeling wonderfully sorry for herself, Sarah snorted and got up. "Well, sitting around never got anything done, and if I'm to solve this thing before I run out of time, I need to get to it." She looked around. The landscape had changed. She was sitting on the ground, alone. The ground was paved with stone, with pathways and arches--it was so much like the maze from last time that she had to stop the memories from crowding her. There was a different feel to the place, which didn't count for much--unless it counted for everything here. "Now, this is the center of this maze, and there are arches all around, which means I'm inside a small labyrinth, and there has to be a way out from here. I came from over there," she looked behind her at the door due south of the basket tree, "so I need to pick the door with…with…Damn."
Sarah looked around the horizon, hoping to see something helpful. She did.
"The door that faces the castle and the center of the labyrinth. I've got to keep travelling in a constant line, even if the path meanders along. Okay, here we go…"
It wasn't until after she was well into the miniature labyrinth that she discovered she was wearing a rich red brocade robe, and nothing else.
After walking and negotiating twists and turns by the dozens, Sarah saw an exit onto an island in the center of a clear, blue lake. On this island, a man and woman were arguing. The man was dressed as a knight, and the woman vacillated between ancient crone and gorgeous maiden. Behind them was a hut, not what a knight was expected to call home. The woman, though, could call it home as a crone, but not as a lady. The age bouncing started making Sarah dizzy.
"Who are you?" the man snapped as Sarah began walking over.
Sarah snorted and muttered, "Men!" under her breath before replying, "I'm Sarah. I just came from the miniature labyrinth," she glanced over her shoulder, and, true to form, nothing was there except water. In front of her, in the distance, the castle still stood.
"Ah." The man and woman looked at each other, then at her. "Well then, perhaps you can help me," the man said.
"That depends on what you need help with," Sarah replied, watching as the woman flashed back and forth more rapidly now. She shook her head and tried not to look in the woman's direction again.
"My wife has offered me a choice--I can be the husband of a crone in public and be a laughingstock, but in private she will be young and beautiful; or I can be married to the beauty in public, but in private she will be old and ugly. It doesn't matter which I choose, because both ways I lose!" The man's voice went from reasonable to yelling. By the time he finished yelling, he was facing his wife.
"Oh." Sarah stopped and looked at the man. "Okay, I have a question for you."
"What is it?" he asked, his shoulders slumped in misery.
"Have you bothered to ask what she wants, or are you just going to pick and choose to suit yourself?" Sarah was trying not to grin. She loved this story.
The man opened his mouth to reply, then stopped. Then he blinked several times and mumbled. "Damn, why didn't I think of that?"
Sarah smirked, then, in an imitation of Karen at her most righteous, chirped sweetly, "Probably because you were thinking with your pride…the one below your belt. If you think with what's between your ears, your life will be easier."
The crone-beauty-crone was snickering. "Ain't it the truth!"
Sarah continued smirking at the man while he glowered at her. Her smile changed to one of real happiness when the man turned to his wife and said, "Darling, I'd rather you chose. Whatever makes thee happy, I will abide and be glad of it."
The woman danced in triumph around her husband and then threw her arms around him. "Then I choose beauty without and beauty within! For, my love, I would never displease thee with a spiteful heart."
Sarah sighed as the man kissed his wife and mumbled, "Are you taking notes, Jareth?"
"Copious amounts, I assure you," he paused, then hissed, "Sarahhh." The word on the wind made her shiver and, as the man and wife walked into their hut, Sarah felt the island moving. Once the door shut, the hut disappeared and she was on the far side of the lake.
The wind whirled around her in a caress. "That's two walls, sweetheart," his voice rode the wind. "After the third, the difficulty begins to rise."
Sarah smiled into the wind and let the spectral fingers run through her hair. Without replying, she began to walk down a path and thought of walls that people choose to create between them.
After several minutes of walking, the path emptied onto a wide, open courtyard. The first few stones in front of her were coloured differently from the ones around them. Sarah wracked her brain to figure out where she'd seen something like this before. It had been in a book, for history class. But it wasn't her textbook, it was research. Research led her to castles, which took her to chapels, which landed her squarely on-"Labyrinth!" she cried, opening her eyes.
"A traditional labyrinth, one that was found in churches and holy places." Sarah sighed and thought before she began walking. It was critical to play close attention to the intricate curves and follow them exactly, even though she could, technically, just walk right to the center and be done with it. The labyrinths the holy places held weren't for a physical journey, they were for insight into a problem or into one's soul. Since there wasn't a real problem, Sarah wondered where her thoughts would lead her as she studied herself and walked a careful path. With each turn of the lines, her thoughts were supposed to turn to a deeper place within.
Now, what had happened recently that she needed to be sure of? What did she need to understand about herself and her life? What frightened her?
Sarah began to walk, and as she walked, she asked herself questions, answering each with the short turns and asking another question of herself as she walked onto the longer pathways. There were no traps within this ancient form. There didn't need to be. The traps and the solutions were all within herself.
When she reached the center of the labyrinth, Sarah closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I have discovered the reason I was scared, Jareth. I'm not strong enough for you yet. It may be years before I am your equal, but, right now, you could overwhelm me completely. I love you, I want to be with you, and I want to give you myself freely--but I will never give you my mind. That is mine, and mine alone. Right now, I fear your strength because you could make me forget that. If I forget that, I'm not myself anymore, and you don't want me or love me--do you still love me?" The wind answered with a gentle caress on her cheek. "Well, if I weren't me, would you still?"
A soft laugh and another gentle caress, this time against her lips, gave her the answer.
"Work your way out, sweet Sarah," called the wind. "I wait for you. The third wall is conquered."
Sarah smiled and began walking the intricate paths back out of the labyrinth, being careful to continue moving along the out-bound path.
As the sun was setting, Sarah came to a table laid out for her. The landscape was unremarkable, but pleasant. Without fear, with a feeling of hope and peace, Sarah sat down to a nice meal of stew and cider.
Jareth watched as Sarah ate and drank and prepared to sleep in the field. His eyes were worried. So far, the labyrinth was lulling her into a sense of security. This was to be expected. Darker times were ahead. Jareth knew his part of these temptations was about to change, and even as he rejoiced in the darkness, he knew she grow white with fear when she confronted him. He savoured the thought of her, pale with fear before him.
As complex as Sarah had become over the past two years, she was still young and unformed compared to him. Darkness and light travelled in Jareth in equal measure, for he was a king. To taste the sweetness, she must also face the dread he could inspire.
"Sleep well, Sarah, for I fear you will not do so again during this contest."
The crystal faded to an ordinary sphere again, and Jareth walked over to his high tower to watch the night fall across his beloved kingdom.
During the night, Sarah dreamed.
***
Queen Mab smiled as she watched the dreamer. Oh, this one was rich with dreams. She would be so sweet to taste. A whirl of activity readied her carriage, for Queen Mab ruled the outer third of Jareth's realm as his proxy. She controlled the first nine gates, and it suited her to do so. A being filled with whimsy and a keen eye for desires and weaknesses, Mab was well-suited to her task. With a flourish and a wicked laugh, Queen Mab stopped her tiny horses on Sarah's closed eye and licked the base of an eyelash.
Sweet, yes, and ripe for longing. What dreams could Mab bring to this woman-child, seeking to hold one of Faerie's most elusive sovereigns? What dreams did she cherish, what nightmares did she fear?
What would she cling to when she began to dream of her dark desires and how greatly she cherished the man who embodied all?
As Sarah slept, a queen plotted and planned while a King watched and waited.
=-+=-+=-+=-+=-+
DOCUMENTATION: Chapter title inspired by (and attibuted to) Langston Hughes' poem "Dreams". Scene with knight and lady based on Knights of the Round Table (one of many tales) that I can NOT remember the title of. This scenario was referenced also by Chaucer in his Canterbury Tales, I believe it was the Wife of Bath's Tale about the knight who had to find out what a woman really wanted. The extra-sappy execution of said scene is my own contribution to a well-known tale.
A/N: It occurs to me that I have put a LOT of tags on this story, and I need to note a few things about them. Application of said tags is scattered throughout the story, and will no more warning re: content of chapters will be given. This does not mean the scene/acts will be extremely long or drawn out. The tags err on the side of caution, so "humiliation" may not mean the standard BDSM version, but something that is more commonplace and still makes people (maybe even me) cringe in sympathy. The "Other" tag is for some pretty weird sh*t that comes up later. I used the Xeno tag because Jereth, well, he isn't human. So, please, take the tags with a generous helping of salt and enjoy the journey! ~TA
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