Loving
Thine Enemy
A
Sequel
by
Stormlight
Chapter
One
"Miss
Williams! Miss Williams! Chris hit me, and it hurt!"
Sarah’s
gaze rose from the stack of math papers she was currently grading to
meet the blue eyes of the fourth grader who had voiced the complaint.
Jessica, naturally, she thought ruefully. Every class needed a
Prissy Missy, and blond-haired Jessica appeared to fit the role quite
nicely, what with the annoying superiority complex she seemed to have
developed as of late. Right now, the ten-year-old stood before
Sarah's desk (which was a “desk” in the loosest sense, as
it was really nothing more than a folding table). Her arms were
stubbornly crossed and her lips were pulled together in a sulky pout,
as if to ask, "Well, Teach? What do you intend to do about
this?"
Sarah
stifled a sigh as she mentally prepared herself to do battle with the
pouting girl. Was I ever this obnoxious when I was her age?
she wondered, and had the sneaking suspicion that the answer was
probably a resounding, “Hell, yeah!” She'd have
to remember to apologize properly to her parents one of these days.
"What
is it this time, Jessica?" she asked wearily.
"Chris
hit me!" came the immediate reply.
"I
did not!" came an answering yell from across the classroom.
Sarah glanced toward the source of the bellow, which happened to be
was a ten-year-old boy with dark brown eyes and an unruly mop of
shiny black curls. He was a cute kid, minus the plastered-on scowl
that he was now directing at Jessica, and just looking at him made
one think of Christmas-choir angels dressed in oversized bathrobes
and pipe-cleaner halos. But Sarah wasn't an idiot. She knew
that looks could be deceiving, and this particular angel's
halo just happened to be held up by a pair of devil horns.
She
fixed him with a Meaningful Stare and called him over with the
Beckoning Finger. It was lunch time, and the fourth graders were all
allowed to talk, but talking did not mean yelling at the top of one's
lungs; a lesson which Chris Adams had yet to learn despite the fact
that it was now going on three months into the school year. Although
Sarah had been an aide in class 4-A for only a week and a half so
far, she knew very well that Mrs. Thomas, the teacher who was at the
moment taking her own lunch break, would not have allowed it. She
probably wouldn’t be very happy with Sarah for allowing it,
either.
As
soon as Chris reached Sarah's desk, she folded her arms over the
piles of homework to be graded and leaned forward a bit. "Chris,
what are the rules about yelling in class?" she asked patiently.
Chris
thought for a moment. "Um ... don’t do it?" he
responded, sounding uncertain.
"Oh,
good. You were paying attention," Sarah muttered, and
luckily the children missed the sarcasm that edged her voice. "Now,"
she continued, "what happened?"
"He
hit me," Jessica huffed, sounding rather exasperated.
Sarah
fixed the girl with another stare. "I asked him, not
you," she replied firmly, and turned back to Chris. "Well?"
"Okay,
me and Jason, see, we were playing around, and he went and shoved me
... oh, but he was only playing!" Chris hastened to defend his
friend. "Anyhow, my elbow accidentally hit Jess in the side. But
I already apologized to her." He fixed the other girl with an
accusing glare, which she ignored.
"Is
that the truth?" Sarah asked the girl, and after a moment
Jessica sulkily nodded. "Well, then the problem is solved, and
you need to forgive and forget and move on with your life," she
stated firmly. "Now go finish your lunch. The period's almost
over."
Still
pouting, Jessica stomped back to her desk and slouched in her chair
sulkily, and a smug-looking Chris rejoined his gang of hoodlums in
the back of the classroom.
Sarah
sighed and turned back to her mindless task of correcting math
papers, but no more than two minutes had passed before a loud shriek
shattered the air. Slapping the pen down on her desk, she jerked her
head up and searched the room with narrowed eyes for the culprit.
Everyone
was staring at her, probably to see what she was going to do.
Everyone but Jessica, that is. She was glaring at Jason
Hawk, Chris’s sidekick, who was pulling an ugly face at her in
return. "You pulled my hair!" she shrieked at him,
rubbing her head.
Sarah
winced. That girl could shatter crystal if she put her mind to it,
she thought testily. Out loud, she snapped, "Jessica Parker, if
you yell like that again, you're skipping the last two recesses and
writing lines in the classroom, instead."
"But
he pulled my hair! I felt it!" Jessica wailed.
"I
did not!" Jason protested. "I wasn’t even near you.
Nobody pulled your stupid hair. Besides, they'd get cooties if they
did," he added nastily. As expected, the other students giggled,
and Jessica’s face turned a shade redder. Then, before Sarah
realized what she was going to do, the girl had drawn back her foot
and kicked Jason in the leg as hard as she could. The class gave a
collective gasp, and Sarah’s jaw dropped as Jason hit the
floor, howling loudly.
"Jessica!"
Sarah gasped, a half-laugh of disbelief escaping her lips before she
could stop it. "You ought to know better than that!"
"He
said I had cooties," she declared sulkily as Sarah knelt beside
Jason.
"That
doesn't give you the right to
kick him," Sarah snapped. "Go sit down and put your
head down. I’ll deal with you after I’ve taken care of
him. Go!"
Jessica
glared at her defiantly, then turned and stomped back to her desk,
muttering all the way. "Who cares what you say, anyhow,"
Sarah heard her sneer. "You’re just the stupid
teacher’s aide."
Sarah
felt her face flush in anger and fought to control it. Jessica had
deliberately meant for her to hear that. She’s
just a stupid kid, she
reminded herself as she examined Jason’s bruised leg. You're
the professional, remember? Don't lower yourself to her level of
maturity. You can't afford to lose this job.
Telling
herself these things, however, didn't keep her from wanting to give
up the ghost and tell the little brat exactly where she could go
stuff her head, and then maybe top it off with a jumbo-sized wedgie.
That girl was the most obnoxious child Sarah had ever met. Only a
week, and she was already questioning her sanity for taking on this
job, especially since she'd never had any real desire to become a
teacher's aide, anyway. The reasons were becoming very clear as to
why the first aide had up and quit.
The
idea had been Karyn’s, of course. No sooner had Sarah graduated
from high school than her step-mother had promptly told her that it
was time to stop dreaming impossible dreams and start facing reality.
She was now officially an adult, and it was time she started earning
money like one. "Get a decent job," she had told
her daughter sternly. "It's high time you started finding some
direction in your life. Sitting around waiting to be discovered is
not practical. You'll probably never succeed in becoming a movie
star, so don't waste any more time! You’re never going to be
an actress, so now it's time to start looking at much more realistic
goals."
Sarah
still felt her heart constrict whenever she thought of those harsh
words. She didn’t understand why, considering she'd already
decided on her own that she didn’t want to become an actress,
anyway. She didn’t know what she wanted to be, but
having her stepmother point out that she was lazy was hurtful. She
wasn’t lazy! She was just ... directionally challenged.
"Your
leg will be fine, Jason," she informed the howling boy.
Honestly, by the volume of his wails, one would have thought Jessica
had stuck him with a knife or something. I know how you feel,
she added with silent sympathy, but crying about it won’t
change anything. She finally managed to calm the child down and
gave him a wet paper towel to hold against his knee, then had
everyone sit down and start working on a spelling paper.
After
that, she beckoned to Jessica, who sulkily ignored her, and Sarah
fought the urge to grab the brat by her hair and pull her the whole
way to the main office, however damaging it might be to her
professional image. Jessica's mother, whom Sarah had met once or
twice, was just that type of person who would sue her for manhandling
her daughter. It wasn’t difficult to tell from whom Jessica
had inherited her personality.
"Jessica,
you will come here right now," Sarah commanded
forcefully, her patience having reached its limits. The sulky child
looked at her, as if pondering the consequences of talking back,
noted Sarah’s glower, and promptly decided that she’d
better not press her luck. Meekly, she came over to the desk, looking
as innocent as the day she'd been spawned. Sarah fixed her with an
icy look. "What is the matter with you?" she demanded in a
low voice. "Do you always throw tantrums in school like this? I
admit I haven’t been working here for very long, but is it
normal for someone your age to act like a three year old?"
Jessica
glared at her and refused to answer, her lips pursed in a
pout.
"Don’t
you have something to say to Jason?" Sarah pressed.
"No,"
Jessica stated promptly.
Sarah
raised an eyebrow. "Jessica, you are this far away from
writing lines," she warned.
"So?
I didn’t do anything, and I’m not saying sorry to him. He
called me a name," Jessica replied with all the
haughtiness of a queen.
Sarah
gritted her teeth. She could think of several
names she'd like to call Jessica at the moment ... none
of which were appropriate for children's ears. "Okay,
fine. Go stand out in the hallway until you reconsider your apology,
and recess is off-limits for the rest of the day. I’ll be
calling your mother today about your behavior." And begging
her to find you a good therapist, while I'm at it.
Jessica
turned and marched haughtily out of the room, and Sarah slouched in
her seat, breathing a heavy sigh and wondering when Mrs. Thomas was
coming back. She wouldn't have been at all surprised if the teacher
had made a break for it and fled the building in fear for her sanity.
Sarah was seriously considering taking such an action herself at the
moment, before she finally snapped and tossed Jessica headfirst out
the second-story window. "I really wish someone
would kidnap that little goblin," she mumbled. “Life
would be much simpler without her.”
As
soon as the words left her mouth, Sarah clamped her teeth down on her
tongue. "I can’t believe
I just said that,"
she whispered, resisting the urge to beat her head against the table.
The last time she’d made a wish like that ... well ... the
results hadn't been pretty. And now that she and the Goblin
King had actually made their peace with each other, the last thing
she wanted was to go and make Enemy Number One out of him again.
Still
... it would be so nice to see Jareth's face again. It had been two
years since their last meeting, that magical Christmas Eve night.
Two years since she had danced with him under the stars while he'd
crooned his beautiful love song. Two years since she'd experienced
her first real kiss with the man of her dreams. She couldn't help
the wistful sigh that escaped her lips, only just remembering that
she was in the middle of class, and that fourth graders tended to
have the senses of wild animals when it came to catching their
teachers during embarrassing moments. Despite this knowledge,
however, she found herself wondering what Jareth was doing,
and if he was actually thinking of her as he'd promised he would.
She
herself didn't think of the Goblin King often. It hurt to remember
him; all of her memories in regards to Jareth were as bitter
as they were sweet, and thinking of him reminded her of what she
could have had, all those years ago, and drove home the reality of
what her life really was; a great, big void of emptiness.
After
graduating high school, Sarah had hoped that her life to just fall
into place. She'd planned to find a good job, some kind of career
that she'd enjoy so much, she would never have any regrets about the
Could-Have-Beens. Maybe acting was out, but that didn't mean there
weren't other options open to her, right? After all, a Goblin King
had fallen in love with her (she thought), so didn't that mean she
was Special in some way?
She'd
had it all planned out. First, she'd find a decent-paying job and
buy a cheap car. It didn't have to be anything fancy, as long as it
ran. Then she'd take a few classes at a community college and earn
some credits. Her grades weren't spectacular, but she hadn't been in
the bottom of her class, either. Perhaps she'd look for something in
literature (she did love her books, after all). An editor, perhaps?
After another year or so, during which she'd hoard every cent she
earned, she'd be able to move out on her own, and then after
completing her courses, she'd find a better job and start her real
career as a professional, working woman. Piece of cake!
But
life wasn't as easy as all that, she discovered. She couldn't seem
to hold down a job; at least, she had yet to find one that didn't
drive her to distraction after only a few months, and she couldn't
seem to find one that paid enough to make all the trouble worth it.
Karyn was bugging her non-stop to do something with her life, but how
could one do anything when one was barely earning enough money
to afford a car, let alone rent an apartment or take classes? For
all her complaining, her stepmother certainly didn't seem inclined to
help Sarah out with the money issues, and since Sarah's dad just
agreed with whatever Karyn wanted, that left him out of it, too.
"Okay,
I’m back!"
Sarah
jumped, startled out of her musings by Mrs. Thomas's sudden entrance.
"How’d it go?" the teacher asked as she sat down.
"You
mean you didn’t hear?" Sarah questioned wryly, and gave a
brief overview of the arguments.
Mrs.
Thomas sighed. "I’m sorry you had such a hard time. Why
don’t you take an extra ten minutes for lunch?"
"Trying
to bribe me into not running away?" Sarah teased.
Mrs.
Thomas chuckled. “Is it that obvious?” She cast Sarah a
sly glance. “By the way, a gentleman stopped by. He was
asking for you, and I told him I'd send you his way.”
Sarah
frowned, considering. "A gentleman?" she repeated. Who in
the world would be coming to see her? She didn't have many male
friends, and her father was at work. "Did he give a name?"
she asked curiously.
"No,
he just asked if he could speak with you. He's quite handsome, very
proper. He had an accent. British, I think?”
Sarah's
heart thudded painfully against her ribs. “B-British?”
she stuttered, suddenly finding it very difficult to speak. It
... couldn't be.
“He's
waiting in the music room. It's not being used at this hour.
Normally, I wouldn't condone meeting with a man during school hours,
but he seemed very serious. I do hope everything is okay,”
Mrs. Thomas was saying, but Sarah was already heading for the door,
ignoring the sudden eruption of "ooooh”s and "Teacher’s
got a boooy-friennnd!"
She
reached the music room in the basement level in record time; it was
dark and the door was closed. It looked empty. She frowned
and tried the doorknob, finding it unlocked. But why were the lights
off if someone was waiting for her? She flipped the light switch to
turn them on.
Nothing
happened.
Her
heart gave another painful thud as a slight chill shivered up her
spine. This scenario was entirely too familiar. She shook her head
to rid it of the unwanted memory. "Get a grip," she told
herself, laughing shakily. The lights were ancient in this old
building; a fuse had probably blown or something. It wouldn't be the
first time. "Anyone in here?" she called out. "Sorry
about the lights. I’ll have someone come in to fix the fuse
later—"
"That
won’t be necessary," a deep, smooth voice cut in, drifting
eerily from the darkness, and Sarah nearly leaped out of her own skin
at the sound of it. She turned toward the source of the voice, her
heart pounding furiously.
It’s
impossible...
The
shadows seemed to draw back, and standing within them, surrounded by
a glowing aura of power, stood a tall, slender figure garbed in
flowing silk and velvet. Fine, moon-pale hair stirred in silky wisps
about a beautiful, sculpted face, and a pair of glittering,
mismatched eyes regarded her with the intensity of a predator.
Sarah
felt the world spin crazily, the way it always seemed to do when
reality was forced to embrace the existence of a living, breathing
fairy tale. She gripped the piano to steady herself, and tried to
remember to breathe. "Jareth," she whispered, her hand
unconsciously rising to clutch the strange golden pendant she kept
hidden beneath her clothes; the same pendant which Jareth had
bestowed upon her at their final parting. Slowly, she straightened,
and her heart began to ease its frantic pounding. He's not my
enemy, she reminded herself. There's nothing to fear
from him anymore.
Still,
the question remained; why was he here?
"I-it’s
really good to see you again," she stuttered, recalling at least
some of the manners her stepmother had drilled into her. "Can
I ask why you're here, though? I ... I thought I'd never actually
see you again.” She offered him a small smile.
He
didn't return it. In fact, she belatedly realized, the Goblin King
seemed just a little bit ... furious. Her smile vanished. “Jareth,
is something—”
"Sarah,
I would have thought that our first encounter would have taught you a
lesson," he cut in, and his voice as cold and venomous as she'd
ever heard it. "However, it has become quite clear to me that
this is one lesson which you have yet to learn!"
Sarah
blinked, taken aback by his vehemence. "I ... I have no idea
what you’re talking about," she stuttered, feeling just
the tiniest bit of resentment beginning to stir. Who the hell did
this guy think he was, to come barging into her life and treating her
like a little kid? "I was just told to meet someone in here,”
she continued haughtily, trying to ignore the angry blush spreading
across her cheeks. “What’s with the theatrics all of a
sudden?"
Jareth
slammed a fist against the wall, the unexpected move startling her
into immediate silence. The atmosphere seemed to spark with danger.
"You have ... no idea?" he repeated slowly, his voice a
silken, dangerous purr that Sarah was only too familiar with. "Do
think back, won't you? It shouldn't be that difficult for you; after
all, dearest Sarah, you need only reminiscence
the events of a few minutes past. Might you recall a certain wish
you made?"
Sarah’s
brow furrowed; she was thoroughly confused. "What I wished ...
Jareth, what are you talking about? I didn’t wish for
any—"
A
crystal was suddenly hovering in front of her eyes, balanced easily
on the tip of a long, black-gloved finger. Within the orb, a tiny
image appeared, and Sarah saw herself slumped at her desk, glaring at
the retreating back of a golden-haired child as her lips moved
soundlessly.
Sarah
blanched. "Y-you can’t
be serious," she gasped. "That wasn't ... that wasn't an
actual wish!
It was just ... words!"
Jareth’s
expression was a mixture of fury and defeat as he strode toward her,
stopping a mere inch away. "Have you not yet learned the power
of Words?” he whispered, so close that his lips brushed her
ear. “You wished for the child to be taken; I took her,"
he intoned softly, menacingly, as his breath warmed her neck. He
pressed a soft kiss to her jawline, just under her ear, and his sharp
teeth nipped delicately at the sensitive flesh, causing her to shiver
violently and renew her grip on the piano in order to keep herself
from falling. "This is not how I dreamed of our next meeting
occurring, dear Sarah, but what’s said is said. I do believe
you are familiar with what happens next."
"No.
Please, Jareth, don't do this again," she pleaded. "How
can you? They weren’t even the same words!"
"In
regards to you, dearest
Sarah, who has already touched the magic of the Labyrinth so strongly
... the Words do not matter so much as the meaning behind the wish.
And you meant, very clearly, for the child to be taken."
His
voice was hard, and his eyes glittered like diamonds. He was no
longer the gentle lover she'd met that Christmas Eve night, but the
cruel and arrogant Goblin King she had known him as before, the man
whom she'd hated and feared.
"You
have thirteen hours to make it to the castle in the center of the
Labyrinth before this child becomes one of us ... forever," he
chanted as he slowly faded into the shadows, the glow of his power
fading with him.
His
final words, as they drifted into the empty room, were laced with
bitter pain.
"Such
a pity..."
