Cruel Winter: A Labyrinth Fanfiction

Chapter 7

The way ahead was rockier now. Several walls had caved in, and the two had to step carefully over the sharp pieces of brick and mortar that poked up through the snow. They could hear occasional distant rumbling as other parts of the labyrinth shook with small quakes. Overhead, the white sun shone cooly, offering them no warmth.

Sarah's thoughts remained on the oubliette, and the fear and sadness in Ludo's voice. It must be so dark and so cold under the ground. Every fiber of her being wanted to turn around, to run back, to stay with him regardless of the consequences. Such a sweet soul didn't deserve to be left all alone like that. But she had a mission to accomplish. A prophesy to fulfill.

She had to kill Jareth. She didn't think she could kill anyone. Was that even what the prophesy meant? Hoggle obviously thought so, but Sarah wasn't sure. While tyrant king, chest torn apart, his dying hope, to steal her heart... What did it really mean? Jareth was the tyrant king, there was no doubt about that part. The prophesy says he will die, but it doesn't say she's the one who kills him. The whole thing was so confusing.

They stepped through an opening in the wall and entered a new part of the labyrinth. This section had not yet been destroyed by the earthquakes. It looked like an English garden, or the remnants of one. The labyrinth walls were here replaced with tall boxwood hedges, their small, hard leaves brown and crumbling. The ground was paved with flagstones the color of sand, and here and there were dry fountains and statuary. Dead rose bushes dotted the garden, heavy with snow.

Hoggle stopped walking.

Sarah looked around her. "Did we take a wrong turn?" she asked. She picked a few leaves off the nearest boxwood and crushed them between her fingers. This section of the maze did seem familiar, but she couldn't be certain.

"No, listen," Hoggle whispered. He raised a hand to signal her to remain silent, and pointed at a fountain with the other.

Sarah followed the direction of his finger, but saw nothing. She heard it though, the soft, scuffing sound of pebbles against stone. She stepped forward, dropping the pieces of leaf to the ground. "Who's there?"

Hoggle frowned and waved for her to be quiet, but Sarah wasn't in the mood for games.

"Hello?" she called, advancing on the fountain with its statue of the Greek Ganymede, eternally pouring his empty water jug into an empty basin. She thought she could see movement now. Someone was definitely hiding behind the fountain. "Please come out. We won't hurt you." She walked around the stone basin, its bottom littered with dead leaves and dirt and snow.

Whoever was hiding moved around the fountain as well, keeping it between them. They circled slowly, eying each other warily around the curves of the statue. Sarah abruptly switched direction, hoping to grab the stranger, but he was quick and darted the other way at just the right time.

She felt her frustration mounting. "Please. Just let me talk to you," she said, again switching directions. Her eyes caught another movement and she cast a quick glance to see Hoggle closing in on the other side. Sarah looked back at the figure behind the fountain, steering him all the way around. In her peripheral, she saw Hoggle leap and grasp the stranger around the waist.

The stranger howled and kicked and wriggled his way out of Hoggle's hold. His dust colored skin and starting eyes and ragged clothing marked him as a citizen of the Goblin City. He tripped over a loose flagstone and fell over on his back. He looked up at the two of them with righteous indignation, ready to fight.

Sarah's voice softened. "You're a long way from home. Are you lost?" She reached out to help him stand up.

The small goblin smacked her arm away. "Lost? Am I lost?" He started to tremble, his shape twisting, shifting, reforming. He was growing.

Sarah yelped and took a step back. She grabbed Hoggle's shoulder and dragged him backwards with her. "No..."

The tortured shape finished its transformation, and before them stood Jareth, the Goblin King. He was dressed in white and silver, his tunic trimmed with ermine. His cape billowed behind him in the cold air, and the shimmering aftereffects of his magic hung about him in a cloud. In his hand was a white walking stick with a large crystal for a handle. His smile was cruel, mocking. "My dear girl, I believe you're the one who's lost."

Sarah drew herself up to her full height, her skirts swishing around her legs, threatening to knock her over. "Are you spying on me?" she asked, and her voice sparked with insolence.

Jareth looked at her for a moment, his eyes hard in the sunlight. "Why would I have need to spy on you?" His eyes looked her up and down, taking in the dirty hem of her dress, the tears in the sleeves, and the old woolen scarf around her neck. "It seems I didn't leave you properly attired for your journey," he said. He laughed, and it echoed hollowly in the garden. "Shall I perhaps conjure you a nice fur coat?"

"I don't want anything from you," Sarah said, but she felt her cheeks burning from the way he'd looked at her just now. "Actually, there is something I want."

Jareth quirked an eyebrow. "Oh? And pray tell, what is that?"

Sarah stood her ground. She would not be intimidated by him. "I want to know why you didn't tell me about the prophesy. The whole prophesy."

Jareth regarded her for a moment. "And what has Hogwart been telling you about the prophesy," he said finally. He looked ill at ease now, almost worried.

Sarah smiled. "'While tyrant king, chest torn apart',"she quoted. "Killing me isn't the only way to fix this, is it?" When Jareth didn't answer right away, she raised her voice. "Is it?"

His sardonic grin returned, but it was too late. Sarah had seen him falter. Maybe Hoggle was right about the prophesy.

"You couldn't kill me, Sarah. You couldn't hurt a fly." Jareth laughed again, and caressed her cheek with a cold, gloved hand. She jerked back, but Jareth seemed undaunted. "But your little friend is right, my dear. One of us will die before the thirteen hours have passed."

A chill wind whipped through the garden, rattling the leaves on the flagstones and blowing a fine spray of snow against Sarah's face. "I don't understand, though. Why is it like this? Why do we have to kill each other?"

Jareth leaned against his walking stick. "I have a riddle for you, Sarah," he said. "What happens when an irresistible force meets an immoveable object?"

Sarah blinked in astonishment. "That's not a riddle," she said. "It's freshman year physics. When an irresistible force meets an immoveable object, one of them ceases to exist. If the irresistible force moves the immoveable object, then the object is no longer immoveable. If the immoveable object stops the irresistible force, then the force is no longer irresistible. They can't exist at the same time." It suddenly all fell into place in her mind with startling clarity, what the prophesy was really about. She was the irresistible force, headstrong and determined, and Jareth was the immoveable object, stubborn and eternal. When she'd solved the labyrinth, his kingdom was no longer immoveable. It had to fall apart. Killing Jareth would finish what she'd started all those months ago, and afterwards the labyrinth would be reborn. But if Jareth killed her instead, the irresistible force would be stopped, and the labyrinth could heal and continue as it was before she'd come and destroyed their world. Either way, the Great Winter would only end if one of them died. She looked up at him and all at once she wanted to cry.

Jareth saw the comprehension in her face. "You understand now, the inevitability of it." He sighed. "I know you think I'm a terrible person, but honestly, if there was any other way, I'd take it. I don't want to die, Sarah, any more than you do. But what's done is done. We have to accept the consequences." He looked around the frozen garden, at the statues and the topiaries, all buried under the snow. "Will you walk with me for a moment?"

"No," Sarah said without hesitation. "You'll kill me."

"Sarah, I just-" He sighed and looked at her with incredible sadness. Near his left was a rose bush, its dried, tattered flowers hanging low under the weight of the snow. He reached down to touch one, and color filled its petals. It bloomed under his hand, dripping glitter and magic as he broke its stem and lifted it from the confines of the bush. He handed it to Sarah with a little bow. "Please. I think we need to talk."