Categories > Movies > Labyrinth > The Rat Who Calls Himself Jareth
We Have Met the Enemy and He is Us
0 reviewsin which Sarah can't see what's hiding in the mirror....
0Unrated
Chapter 2: We Have Met The Enemy and He is Us
Sarah seemed to instinctively know where her quarters were in the castle; she made a bee-line for them as if she were running to her own room at home. She zipped through the window, transformed at a simple thought, collapsed on the bed and stayed there for a long time. The change was psychologically exhausting but, to her surprise, she wasn’t sad at all. In fact, she felt exhilarated, nigh triumphant. She was practically a god in this place! She allowed herself the luxury of an hours-long nap to recover mentally, assuming that the chaos downstairs couldn’t get much worse without her for a while. When she awoke, she surveyed the ‘damage’ to her appearance in a full-length mirror. The room was sparsely furnished: just a large bed and a table with some oddities on it, a few large candles bolted to the stone walls (she hesitated to think what the tallow was made from), a rough bookcase filled with ancient tomes in a myriad of languages (all of which she found she could now read) and a floor-to-ceiling gilt mirror.
She could’ve looked a lot worse. She was in a loose white poet’s shirt with a slit that ran down past her breasts which revealed them slightly but not so much as to make her look cheap. There was a low, tight cincher at her waist, cream with gold-swirled embroidery. She wore tight denim-blue leggings and very-high-heeled light brown suede boots that came up to her knees. The crest of the empire was about her neck, resting temptingly between her cleavage. It was, in fact, a bizarre parody of what she had been wearing when she entered the Labyrinth earlier that day.
Her eyes bore those strange markings - she couldn’t stop touching them it was so weird! It was as if they had been tattooed onto her eyelids and brows, the pigment just below the skin. Her long, dark hair was teased up a bit but at least it wasn’t sticking up straight like poor William’s had. She had been wondering why on earth Jar - er - Will had done that with this hair all thirteen hours. Frankly, it had looked ridiculous, like some feeble attempt by someone short to look bigger. She blinked and suddenly laughed. Of course. The heels. The hair. Got it. Everything about this appearance was supposed to make her look more intimidating after a fashion. On a silly whim she glowered at herself and nearly jumped back! Whatever this was, it worked.
Now for more serious matters. The crystals were obviously an embodiment of her power and will. Could she just make them automatically like she had just known how to transform? She put her fingertips together as she had seen Will do and concentrated. Nothing. She tried again, focusing harder on the goal of the exercise. Still nothing. And then she felt a vague, dark stirring.
Knowledge…go where there is knowledge…
The entire contents of the bookshelf was on the floor in short order and Sarah sat in the middle of the heap poring over all of them, skimming, referencing, almost feverish, until she came to what she was looking for. She felt her face blanch as she read the page and suddenly slammed the book shut. She knew enough but she actually feared what might happen to her if she kept going! She quickly brushed the thought from her mind and got up again.
Out of nothingness came form from her desire - and in a neat little crystalline package. She balanced options, juggled possibilities and finally let one come to fruition… and all the books were back on the shelves in the blink of an eye. All except the one that had shown her how to do this, which she deliberately hid underneath a large masonry stone in the floor so she wouldn’t be as tempted to read it again. Some things were better left unknown. She swore she heard an eerie chuckle. And it suddenly dawned on her what it was.
“Jareth, you bastard, I know you’re in there somewhere but I’m not going to let you get the best of me!” she screamed at the room, not caring that she sounded crazy. Silence. She was beginning to understand what Will had said about remembering who she was. Something like that was undoubtedly opportunistic and would try to override her at weak moments, and then more and more frequently. She steeled her nerves. There would be no weak moments. She would be in control of herself no matter what. She knew enough to survive now. She just had to keep her cool and stay on task and maybe she would live to see the end of this catastrophe. She strode to the door and, upon opening it, she heard the goblin horde in it’s full anarchy below.
“They’re only goblins, they’re only goblins…” she said to herself, trying not to grimace at the mess that no doubt awaited her as she descended the long, spiral staircase.
She failed to see the faint, ghastly grin in the mirror…
Sarah seemed to instinctively know where her quarters were in the castle; she made a bee-line for them as if she were running to her own room at home. She zipped through the window, transformed at a simple thought, collapsed on the bed and stayed there for a long time. The change was psychologically exhausting but, to her surprise, she wasn’t sad at all. In fact, she felt exhilarated, nigh triumphant. She was practically a god in this place! She allowed herself the luxury of an hours-long nap to recover mentally, assuming that the chaos downstairs couldn’t get much worse without her for a while. When she awoke, she surveyed the ‘damage’ to her appearance in a full-length mirror. The room was sparsely furnished: just a large bed and a table with some oddities on it, a few large candles bolted to the stone walls (she hesitated to think what the tallow was made from), a rough bookcase filled with ancient tomes in a myriad of languages (all of which she found she could now read) and a floor-to-ceiling gilt mirror.
She could’ve looked a lot worse. She was in a loose white poet’s shirt with a slit that ran down past her breasts which revealed them slightly but not so much as to make her look cheap. There was a low, tight cincher at her waist, cream with gold-swirled embroidery. She wore tight denim-blue leggings and very-high-heeled light brown suede boots that came up to her knees. The crest of the empire was about her neck, resting temptingly between her cleavage. It was, in fact, a bizarre parody of what she had been wearing when she entered the Labyrinth earlier that day.
Her eyes bore those strange markings - she couldn’t stop touching them it was so weird! It was as if they had been tattooed onto her eyelids and brows, the pigment just below the skin. Her long, dark hair was teased up a bit but at least it wasn’t sticking up straight like poor William’s had. She had been wondering why on earth Jar - er - Will had done that with this hair all thirteen hours. Frankly, it had looked ridiculous, like some feeble attempt by someone short to look bigger. She blinked and suddenly laughed. Of course. The heels. The hair. Got it. Everything about this appearance was supposed to make her look more intimidating after a fashion. On a silly whim she glowered at herself and nearly jumped back! Whatever this was, it worked.
Now for more serious matters. The crystals were obviously an embodiment of her power and will. Could she just make them automatically like she had just known how to transform? She put her fingertips together as she had seen Will do and concentrated. Nothing. She tried again, focusing harder on the goal of the exercise. Still nothing. And then she felt a vague, dark stirring.
Knowledge…go where there is knowledge…
The entire contents of the bookshelf was on the floor in short order and Sarah sat in the middle of the heap poring over all of them, skimming, referencing, almost feverish, until she came to what she was looking for. She felt her face blanch as she read the page and suddenly slammed the book shut. She knew enough but she actually feared what might happen to her if she kept going! She quickly brushed the thought from her mind and got up again.
Out of nothingness came form from her desire - and in a neat little crystalline package. She balanced options, juggled possibilities and finally let one come to fruition… and all the books were back on the shelves in the blink of an eye. All except the one that had shown her how to do this, which she deliberately hid underneath a large masonry stone in the floor so she wouldn’t be as tempted to read it again. Some things were better left unknown. She swore she heard an eerie chuckle. And it suddenly dawned on her what it was.
“Jareth, you bastard, I know you’re in there somewhere but I’m not going to let you get the best of me!” she screamed at the room, not caring that she sounded crazy. Silence. She was beginning to understand what Will had said about remembering who she was. Something like that was undoubtedly opportunistic and would try to override her at weak moments, and then more and more frequently. She steeled her nerves. There would be no weak moments. She would be in control of herself no matter what. She knew enough to survive now. She just had to keep her cool and stay on task and maybe she would live to see the end of this catastrophe. She strode to the door and, upon opening it, she heard the goblin horde in it’s full anarchy below.
“They’re only goblins, they’re only goblins…” she said to herself, trying not to grimace at the mess that no doubt awaited her as she descended the long, spiral staircase.
She failed to see the faint, ghastly grin in the mirror…
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