She awoke, a silent scream lodged in her throat and lightning cutting in through her open, bedroom window. She sat up, and for a moment, her world spun. She couldn't quite tell where she was, differentiate fact from fiction, dream from reality, past from present. For a moment, she thought she heard the frantic beatings of an owl's wings against her window, but that was impossible. Ever since the one time she'd spotted him, back before his subjects had suddenly stopped visiting her, Sarah had left her bedroom window open for that very reason.
She wiped tears from her eyes, realizing she'd been crying again in her sleep. Her throat burned, and she knew she'd been calling his name out again, begging for him to return and take her from this world, take her back to the world where she belonged, in the Goblin City, with him. Blindly, she reached for the cup of water she kept beside her bed for this very reason. It cooled her throat but otherwise did nothing to ease her pain. It would be so easy to just drink her cares away -- she had found that enough liquor eventually silenced all thoughts --, but dulling her mind would not pave her way back to him.
She had to fight. She had been given the first choice easily enough. She'd even tried offering other babies, but that did not seem to work. Nothing she had tried thus far had reopened the Labyrinth, but maybe she was getting close to the right trail. Maybe that's why they had stopped visiting -- and she knew they had for, even when she woke from nightmares now, she no longer heard the telltale scampering of the little creatures who accompanied him, their King, her King.
She had dreamed of him again. She always dreamed of him. He might have left her in every other way, but each time she shut her eyes, she was either adorned with memories or accosted by the thoughts of what might never be again, or what might have followed his descent. She'd had no choice then but to turn him away, but she would find her way back to him. She would make him understand that she had done all she had done, that she had denied his every offer, not because she did not believe in him, did not want to love him, feared him, but because her baby brother's very life had depended on it.
She wondered, not for the first time, if Jareth himself had been a babe thrown to the Goblins, someone for whom his sister had failed to fight. There were so many questions still unanswered, but Sarah knew one thing for certain: She'd keep fighting. She'd keep fighting until she made it back to him, and then, if it took it, she'd fight to stay beside him. Tossing off her covers, she headed back to the ancient tomes that awaited her. One night, she'd find the way back to him.
The Way Back
She awoke, a silent scream lodged in her throat and lightning cutting in through her open, bedroom window. She sat up, and for a moment, her world spun. She couldn't quite tell where she was, differentiate fact from fiction, dream from reality, past from present. For a moment, she thought she heard the frantic beatings of an owl's wings against her window, but that was impossible. Ever since the one time she'd spotted him, back before his subjects had suddenly stopped visiting her, Sarah had left her bedroom window open for that very reason.
She wiped tears from her eyes, realizing she'd been crying again in her sleep. Her throat burned, and she knew she'd been calling his name out again, begging for him to return and take her from this world, take her back to the world where she belonged, in the Goblin City, with him. Blindly, she reached for the cup of water she kept beside her bed for this very reason. It cooled her throat but otherwise did nothing to ease her pain. It would be so easy to just drink her cares away -- she had found that enough liquor eventually silenced all thoughts --, but dulling her mind would not pave her way back to him.
She had to fight. She had been given the first choice easily enough. She'd even tried offering other babies, but that did not seem to work. Nothing she had tried thus far had reopened the Labyrinth, but maybe she was getting close to the right trail. Maybe that's why they had stopped visiting -- and she knew they had for, even when she woke from nightmares now, she no longer heard the telltale scampering of the little creatures who accompanied him, their King, her King.
She had dreamed of him again. She always dreamed of him. He might have left her in every other way, but each time she shut her eyes, she was either adorned with memories or accosted by the thoughts of what might never be again, or what might have followed his descent. She'd had no choice then but to turn him away, but she would find her way back to him. She would make him understand that she had done all she had done, that she had denied his every offer, not because she did not believe in him, did not want to love him, feared him, but because her baby brother's very life had depended on it.
She wondered, not for the first time, if Jareth himself had been a babe thrown to the Goblins, someone for whom his sister had failed to fight. There were so many questions still unanswered, but Sarah knew one thing for certain: She'd keep fighting. She'd keep fighting until she made it back to him, and then, if it took it, she'd fight to stay beside him. Tossing off her covers, she headed back to the ancient tomes that awaited her. One night, she'd find the way back to him.
The End