In the Eyes of the Queen [ Labyrinth ] ✔

Chapter Sixteen

"Jareth, may I stay?"

Well, that was not what I expected to say.

Apparently, it was not what Jareth expected me to say, either, because he lets go of me and takes a step backward, staring at me in open shock.

I gaze at the Goblin King with more determination than I feel and take a step toward him—tentativeness disguised by sheer willpower. Now our roles are reversed as I pursue him to the opposing wall as he walks backward. With a satisfied smirk, I pin Jareth against the stone wall. His eyes tell of amazement and admiration and I am goaded on.

"May I stay?" I state, more than ask. "I want to stay." I feel him shiver. Ha! Mother was right that even inexperienced women have the upper hand. "Of course, the terms of my residence here are not without stipulations."

With the mention of terms and stipulations, Jareth begins to resume his usual demeanor. He says nothing but asks for an explanation by slowly raising an elegant eyebrow up in question. I step back, creating a more comfortable amount of space between us.

"I can't just disappear from the human world without warning. I have to give notice at work, make a suitable excuse for disappearing to some place far away and not exactly tourist-friendly, and force Dad to accept the money I owe him." And then there is the matter of how exactly I will... support myself here. Where will I live? What will I do? Can I stay by your side, or are you going to battle your infatuation with anger the way I battled mine with fear? And can we even develop our feelings into something more than base attraction? Are you willing to love me?

"You want to go back?"

You cannot ask me to choose between family and you, Jareth, not again. Disappearing without notice is different from leaving your parents to cleave unto another. "I need to go back, for at least a few weeks. But then I will return, happily."

"I told you that I do not have the power to return you."

"But you implied that I might."

There is a reason why I wear overly modest clothes and practice meditation; they facilitate control over the slowly growing power I have not been taught to use, one which I am disinclined to acknowledge outside of my suppressive wardrobe and the practiced clearing of my mind—but those limit the accidental display of my power, and therefore aid me in pretending I do not have it. I hesitated to wish, not because I was afraid Jareth would answer (though that was initially true), but because I was my own power would answer my desires.

Jareth looks at me as if considering my suggestion. "Close your eyes."

"What?" I am still hesitant to trust him.

"Close your eyes, Sarah," he coaxes, "I have to—look into your mind to confirm or disprove my suspicions and therefore find the way by which you can go home."

He is being honest; I can tell. I do not know how I know, just that I do, but I am also well aware of a dark flash in his eyes that says he is still scheming, that he still has and plans on maintaining control.

Biting the inside of my cheek, I close my eyes. "You're not going to look at my memories or something like that, are you?"

I feel a gloved finger on each temple and hear a soft laugh. "No, nothing like that."

I hope he is not lying. I would rather keep my memories of the goblins and my friends and certain dreams private from him.

We stay like that for a long moment.

Finally, he removes his fingers from my temples and I open my eyes.

He smirks. "It is as I suspected."

I take a deep breath. "Well?"

"I cannot take you home."

"What?"

"Sorry, that is not entirely accurate. I have the power to take you back, but so do you. There is something blocking you from using that power to return yourself, and that same thing will prevent me from returning you as well."

"Is there a way to remove that... block?"

"That depends on you."

"Care to explain?" I ask curtly, my patience running out.

"Sarah, Sarah," Jareth chastises.

"Of the many immature qualities I have weeded out, impatience is not one of them. You have no room to talk, anyway." Stupid, stupid Sarah, inciting the anger of the Goblin King.

Surprisingly, he smiles with genuine amusement. "I suppose there is no use in trying to deny that." He pauses and picks up the other trail of conversation where we left off. "If you will let me explain—"

I nod my head

"—power, the kind of power I, and you, have, is based foremost on our needs and wants. For lack of a more accurate description: we translate willpower into magic. When someone is unlearned and unpracticed in its use, the willpower that is drawn upon is from the most basic needs. Of course, most needs are met by other means, along with the needs that are not so base, and so our power is based on our deepest desires and then branches out into our lesser wants."

I fidget uncomfortably under his stare, trying to process his words. I skim over the part about his power and mine and concentrate on his explanation of how the power works.

"So, because I don't actually want to go back, my power won't take me there."

I look up and observe his smirk with a frustrated sigh.

"Something like that, love."

"I doubt that all your... magic tricks," he cringes at the term, "are based on your deepest desires. You suggested that once such things are met, the willpower can come from lesser wants."

"Magic tricks are what humans call the works of illusionists, Sarah." Oh no, the Goblin King is angry. "My, your, our power should not be associated with something so—degrading." Yes, definitely angry.

I gulp. "Sorry, your majesty."

"Jareth," he corrects firmly.

"Jareth," I whisper.

He smirks. "What was that? I did not hear you."

Grrr. "Jareth," I state, louder this time.

"Good girl," he drawls, patronizingly, and looks at me expectantly.

I stare back.

"Well, are you going to apologize?"

"For what?"

"For... degrading me, and yourself, and disobeying me." He smiles like the Cheshire Cat.

"I thought you didn't want me to treat you as a king, your majesty," I reply, forgetting my own safety.

Luckily, he laughs rather than grows angry. "Then—how do the humans say it?—kiss and make up."

My eyes grow wide. "What!?" Giving him an apologetic and grateful kiss on the cheek was only fun when it was a surprise. His eyes dance with good-humored mischief, though, goading me on in my desire to give him a taste of his own medicine.

"Sorry," I apologize, "for belittling your power, and for not calling you 'Jareth' as you requested," not commanded. As I speak, I maneuver myself so the distance between us is almost nothing. Rising on my toes and aiming for his cheek, I close my eyes and pucker my lips ever so slightly. Peeking out from one eye, I see he has succumbed and closed his eyes as well. Suppressing a chuckle, I change direction at the last moment and brush my lips against his ever so slightly.

I pullaway and skip out of the room. Sittingamongst the wealth of furs and blankets and velvets, I call "Now will you tellme how to work around the whole 'greater desires and lesser wants' thing?"