Exchange Fic #2: The Girl Who Forgot Everything
The actual identity of the writer will remain secret until all the submissions are in and posted.
****
Title:The Girl Who Forgot Everything
Author: jinx1764
Recipient: lady_kurina
Prompt: #1 Sarah is stuck inside due to a snowstorm and is looking for a book before finding a red-leather bound book…#2 and It's a snowy Valentine's Day, and once again Sarah is alone…
Rating: K
Plot Summary/Author's Notes: While researching, Sarah gets stuck in a library during a snowstorm on Valentine's Day and finds an interesting book bound in red leather. What dreams and answers might it show her?
Sarah Williams favored three things: books, libraries and snowy days. So when she woke to heavy flurries on her third Valentine's Day alone, she had decided it was a Saturday made for research. While the majority of the campus would be prepping for a night of crimson-colored debauchery punctuated with feints of romance, she'd be buried in books-the perfect holiday.
Rushing from her apartment, she stopped at the coffee house to get a refill in her personal travel mug, then carefully tucked her grande, upside down, double shot, salted, no whip, fat free, caramel macchiato (and maple scone) inside her oversized purse. She needed to sneak them past Mrs. Starkly. Desecration of the sacred library with foodstuffs was not allowed on pain of being subjected to the Dewey decimal system by the old card catalog instead of computer.
"Sarah," the middle-aged librarian said with a smile as Sarah pushed through the second set of front doors.
Sarah had left her snow-dusted trench coat and galoshes in the large entry atrium, where they were busy forming a puddle of melt water nearly by their lonesome. A few other forlorn winter coats sagged on the pegs, drip-drip-dripping messes upon the rubber mats lining the speckled marble floor.
"Morning, Mrs. Starkly," she said, removing her crocheted cap, then finger combing her long brown hair as she discreetly scratched her scalp. The itches always got her after wearing winter caps, made her dry skin drier as if they sucked the oil directly from her pores.
"I rather expected you might show up today." Mrs. Starkly winked and set her pen down as she leaned forward with both forearms on her desk. "Even on Valentine's Day."
Sarah shrugged. "Well, you know me…"
"Oh Sarah." Mrs. Starkly slipped her reading glasses off. "A nice young lady like you should be out socializing, meeting boys, not spending her time in stuffy old buildings with stuffy old ladies."
Sarah laughed softly and waved a hand at her. "You're not stuffy; you're quirky." Mrs. Starkly shook her head and smiled as Sarah added, "And I've had boyfriends, but they're usually so … I don't know." She shrugged again and twirled a length of hair around her fingers. "Besides, I like spending time here; especially since my family's so far away."
"Mmm, I'm sure the summer must seem so far away now."
"It does, and yet, somehow it seems like only a few days ago we celebrated Toby's tenth birthday at the lake house. You know, this was my last summer living with my family. After I graduate, I have to grow up for real and get a job." Sarah sighed and released her hank of hair. "No more goofing off."
Mrs. Starkly patted her arm. "It's not so bad, Sarah, being an adult."
"I know. It's just I feel like…"
"Like what?"
"Like there's something important I keep forgetting, and if I don't remember soon, I never will." Sarah leaned on the desk, giving the librarian an earnest stare. "Does that make sense?"
Mrs. Starkly enfolded Sarah's hands in hers, sharing her warmth. "I think, perhaps, you're a bit afraid of what's waiting for you after college, dear. You've spend so much time working towards your master's, that it's easy to want to stay tucked away here forever."
"Maybe…"
"You'll do fine. You always do." She released Sarah's hands and satup. "By the way, you're in luck today; hardly anyone else is here, so your spot will be nice and private."
Sarah straightened and clutched her purse close to her side. "Wonderful! I'm nearly finished with the research and outline. Hopefully I can start writing my thesis this weekend since it's due in about six weeks."
"History of labyrinths, right?"
"Yep! You'd be surprised at how often labyrinths show up in human history and myths."
"Really? Well, I'm sure you'll do marvelously, dear."
"Thanks," she said, stepping back and walking farther into the library, making sure to hold her bag close to her side. Through the thick leather, the reusable, plastic coffee cup was still upright and secure. Spilling that inside her bag-ick!-now that would be an epic disaster. "I'll see you later," Sarah said over her shoulder.
"Of course, oh and Sarah…"
"Yes?" She stopped and turned.
"The weather report says the snow is supposed to get heavier, so don't get too distracted back there. Wouldn't want you trapped overnight."
"Thanks, yeah that wouldn't be good," Sarah said with a weak smile and a wave as she continued to her special hiding spot located halfway between literature and history (with a bit of mythology for flavor). She'd always had a strange fascination with myths, legends and fairytales. Too bad it was difficult to make a living with a degree in mythology or else she'd ditch her English degree (which was lame enough unless one wanted to teach).
A Tudor style, diamond-paned window towered over a comfortably-worn leather club chair tucked in her corner. Tempted to flop butt-first in a spine-twisting slouch, she resisted. First she needed to empty her bag of the coffee and scone, then hunt down relevant research material to lug back and spread around on the floor and small table next to her in an explosion of random knowledge.
Approximately twenty minutes later, she was wedged into her study position; her long cardigan snuggled around her shoulders and legs tucked to protect her from the cool air radiating from the leaded glass behind her. There was nothing like fresh, falling snow and diffuse rays of weak sunlight to stimulate the urge for hot, cholesterol-plaque enriched coffee while researching in a cozy nook. She sighed in contentment, eyes drifting heavily over the black and white page while she took notes with a silver glitter pen with black ink. There was a thesis somewhere in this jumble, and once she'd gathered enough data, she'd find the thread….the piece… the connection of all the dots…
"Sarah."
"Hmm?" Her head jolted up, eyelids popping open. Had she drifted off?
Mrs. Starkly stood over her, lips pursed. "We're the last ones here, and the weather is getting worse, so I'm closing early."
"Oh?" Sarah turned in her seat, checking outside. Curlicues of white powder flew horizontally through the air, and she could barely see the trees in the quad. She checked her antique pendant watch, which was usually loud enough that she never lost track of its comforting ticks. "Oh! It's been hours, I hadn't noticed."
Mrs. Starkly smiled. "I thought so." One hand on a hip, she mock scolded her with the other. "And if you're not at the front in half an hour, I'm dragging you out."
Laughing, Sarah closed her books and sat up from her slouch. "Fair enough."
"By the way," the older woman added as she nodded towards the coffee cup and paper napkin littered with scone crumbs, "next time you sneak in a snack, make sure you bring me a decaf with two creams, no sugar."
"Wh-? Sorry… You got it."
Mrs. Starkly walked off, chuckling and shaking her head, while Sarah packed her things and collected the books. She'd need to hurry to get them back to their places; she wouldn't dare leave them out for Mrs. Starkly to find later. She'd already gotten off easy with the coffee. Once the last of the dozen reference books slid back into their narrow homes, Sarah was winding her way back to her nook when she saw it. The unusual tome she'd never noticed until that precise moment.
"That's odd."
How many times had she walked this main aisle? Maybe it had been checked out before. She was sure she would've seen its blazing red leather and gilt spine. She tilted her head and read the title, A Practical Guide to the Denizens to the Labyrinth. How had she missed it? It was lusciously antique in the pristine manner of one whose books are well cared for, and a passion swept through Sarah to know its contents. Mrs. Starkly would be running her out soon, but snippet of a glimpse wouldn't take long…
As soon as she thought it, she reached, tongue drying as her fingers caressed the kid leather. Withdrawing the thick volume before she had a chance to scold or doubt herself, she slid it free and supported it with both hands. Weighted, gilded perfection smelling of crisp vellum and old ink lay in her hands. The spell of literature wove around and through her, and she lowered her nose and inhaled deeply, filling her lungs until she felt lightheaded.
Hurry, before Mrs. Starkly finds you!
Sarah cracked open the cover, fingers abuzz and tingling. Upon the old ivory vellum, a vivid picture of a wizened, hobbit-like creature dressed in motley clothing greeted her. The caption below read:
Hoggle, the dwarf-(Pumilius Pumilio) - head gardener and master fairy-killer for the Goblin King. He's known throughout the Labyrinth as a coward and a cheat. He's attracted to bright, shiny objects and anything he can sell, pawn or bury. His employment and relationship with the Goblin King is based on long-standing, mutual disrespect, but he depends upon the Labyrinth's defenses and the King's generous nature to keep him safe from neighboring realms (due to the Great and Terrible Bog Incident of 1456). No one has trusted Hoggle since the GaTBI, and he lives in constant fear of retaliation should he live the Labyrinth. Goblin Rumors claim the Champion befriended the little scab, thereby convincing him to become trustworthy and good, but no one really believes them. The King's response to the rumor: ‘Hogsbreath, friends with the Champion? Not if he knows what's good for his long-term, olfactory health.'
Sarah's brows furrowed as she chuckled softly. "How funny. He doesn't look cowardly. A little goofy with that crazy nose and those eyebrows make him look like Grumpy, but he's probably very sweet." She glanced at her loudly ticking watch-hmm, fifteen minutes before she had to go. "Who else lives in the Labyrinth?" she said as she turned the page with two fingers delicately pinching the corner.
A bright blue caterpillar with a friendly expression and a fluffy spine of fur practically sprang out of the next picture. "He's adorable!" she said, running her fingers over the slightly rough image. It wasn't a typical lithograph, but not quite hand painted either.
The Worm-(Coscinocera Mohawk) - a cockney species distantly related to the Hercules Moth (Coscinocera Hercules), they live primarily in the walls of the Labyrinth. Both sexes are monogamous, gregarious and love Earl Grey tea-English style; though the female tends to be more of a recluse and one must visit her domicile in order to observe her friendly disposition. If you ever need to ask directions, the Worm is dependable, but your questions must be specific, otherwise you'll wander the Labyrinth's corridors until the Goblin King tricks you into an oubliette (after he gets his obligatory, vicarious feel through the Wall of Hands as you fall into the trap). How the worm has gotten away with knowing the secret to the central of the Labyrinth can only be speculated, but it's assumed the Goblin King sees the acting of stepping on a worm beneath him, and therefore allows this gentle creature to co-exist as long as he doesn't cause further trouble.
"Well, if I'm ever in the Labyrinth, I'll be sure to remember to ask the worm for help. He looks pleasant. And I'll definitely avoid the Walls of Hands, ewww." She checked her watch again-thirteen minutes left. Since her belongings were already packed, she decided to take this wonderful book back to her chair and enjoy it until she was kicked out. Making herself comfortable, Sarah flipped to the next page.
A furry orange beast filled the page, hulking like a gorilla, but with a gentle face crowned by short horns.
Ludo-rockcaller (Bestia Lapidatoris) - called a monster by some less intelligent denizens of the Labyrinth. While simple-minded, rockcallers are also kind and placid by nature. Vegetarians, rockcallers consume all manner of indigent greens and fruits. Centuries ago, the Goblin King imported a few to take advantage of their primary defense, which is their inherent ability to activate the kinetic energy of any sized, loose rock. Unfortunately, or fortunately if you're a rockcaller, they escaped captivity and fled the castle. The King's goblins have been unable to recapture any in the last two hundred years. Some attribute the King's irritability to this failed plan (Goblin Rumor is that he invested thousands of pounds of Goblin Gold on their initial capture and importation). Ludo is the last known rockcaller residing in the Labyrinth and was freed from near capture by the Champion during her Quest. Dubbed Sir Ludo by Sir Didymus and named brother-in-arms after their fierce battle at the Bridge over the Bog of Eternal Stench.
"Wow! Now that sounds like a useful skill! Lucky for them, they escaped." Sarah grinned, ignoring the increasing howls of wind through the window behind her and the thickening gloom. She did, however, check her watch a third time. "Good, still have ten minutes." She glanced up and around, no sign of Mrs. Starkly.
Next page displayed the silliest character yet. A fox? A dog? He was dressed in Shakespearian garb and holding a staff, and the feather in his cap slumped over in fatigue. So lifelike, Sarah thought he might twitch his nose, wiggle his handlebar mustache and call her ‘milady'. She grinned back at him. "You're a silly fellow, aren't you?"
Sir Didymus-(Vulpes Canis Bellator) No one knows exactly where this noble, but olfactory-impaired, knight hails from or anything about his family history. He appeared one day from beyond the Labyrinth and declared the defense of the Bridge over Bog of Eternal Stench his Knight's Quest. A few denizens (mainly goblins) complained to the Goblin King, who ignored the ridiculous problem since everyone, but the most I.Q. impaired residents, avoided traveling over the Bog in the first place. Regarding the issue, the King is quoted: ‘If the fool wants to play guard dog or fox-or whatever the bloody hell he is-for the foul place, let him; but he is forever banned from the castle.' Nothing more was said of the affair until the bridge was destroyed during the Champion's Quest, in which Ludo defeated Sir Didymus in a fair and fierce battle lasting one score and two minutes(by the rough estimate of some). Thereafter, Ludo was called brother-in-arms to the noble knight. Once the Champion departed the Labyrinth (and a suitable time of lamentation passed for the King's honorable defeat in battle) Sir Didymus petitioned the King to rebuild the bridge. Repair plans, however, are currently on hold due to some conflict of poultry financial interests. The King refuses to comment on any information regarding said royal monies earmarked for bridge repair, other than stating ‘…they are not fowl-derived, Bog take you!'
Sarah laughed aloud, wondering what sort of kingdom would allow a place like the Bog of Eternal Stench to exist within their borders and what sort of knight would want to guard it. What sort of king ruled over this Labyrinth, and what exactly was ‘poultry financial interests' and why did they care about a bridge over a stinky bog?
"These characters are hilarious. I have to figure out a way to work them into my thesis."
The winds picked up speed and ferocity, battering the panes until they rattled. She tucked her cardigan around her, ignoring the colder air streaming down like a river from the lack of insulation. She flipped to the next page, ignoring her ticking watch (which now showed eight minutes left had she bothered to check) and her eyes dilated onto a page of iridescent black surrounding a pale, radiant face of the man himself…
Jareth, the Goblin King-(Fata Gobelinus Rex) a mischievous, morally ambiguous, fae male of undetermined age possessing immense magical powers, which he wields with the expertise of a master and the dexterity of a juggler. He prefers using focusing crystals in many of his spells. His thousand year rule of the Labyrinth is infamous throughout the Underground. He knows no equal and has never crowned a Goblin Queen. His extended bachelorhood, penchant for skintight black leather, singing and dancing, high-heeled boots, glitter and extra-strength hair spray to support his gravity defying up-dos have incited speculation regarding his sexual orientation (a serious problem since he has yet to beget a royal heir). However, the first to have actually verbalized the public's doubt (a brownie by the name of Dan) was last seen being dipped head first into the Bog of Eternal Stench. The Goblin King's primary duty (other than creeper-stalking and baby-napping) is to preside over Runners proving their worth during the Challenge in his Labyrinth. Only one Labyrinth Champion has ever been declared, but she disappeared before she claimed her rightful place as Goblin Queen (goblins blame the Champion for the King's decade long bad mood). It is said the King still searches for the Champion, and some (braver or dumber) goblins whisper that he pines for her (there are Goblin Rumors that he cries out her name in every emotion, depending upon his mood)-though no goblin has freely admitted to their King's bruised love life for fear of swift reprisal via booted defenestration.
Sarah gulped; a burning raced from her head to her groin as the Goblin King's inhuman eyes leapt from the two dimensional image and whirled magic over her skin. Licking her lips, she rubbed the pad of one finger around the edge of his face. He didn't look quite angry or harsh, but there was something wrong … something missing from his expression. He looked … heartbroken?
"What happened to you, Goblin King? Are you really searching for her? What will you do if you find her?"
The storm assaulting the window faded from her perception, and the library blurred in her periphery as Sarah studied the powerful man in the book. Who was he? A myth? A legend? She'd never heard of him, yet his name, title and image tugged at her like a hangnail she'd thankfully forgotten-sore, worrisome and aching from too much biting at the edges. Reluctantly, she lifted and turned the page, moving her head to watch him invert and slip away like a memory she'd never possessed, yet forgotten all the same.
Sighing, she saw next page and froze. A dark-haired woman, partially turned away, adorned the entire page. Sarah couldn't see her face, only the hint of her profile. She wore a crystal white ball gown, sleek and elegant, but for some reason Sarah though it should be puffier, though it was still stunning. Smiling, she examined every sparkling detail of the formal garment as déjà vu swept over her.
Goblin Queen by Right of Conquest-(Fata Gobelinus Regina Bellator) - also known as The Girl Who Ate the Peach and Forgot Everything, the Labyrinth Champion, the Champion and Lady of the Labyrinth.
"That's it?" She flipped the page back and forth, but found nothing. No further text or pictures, but several more empty pages as if the book awaited continuation by an unknown author. "But … that can't be it!"
Going back, she studied every minute aspect of the image of the woman and her blurry surroundings, tracing a fingertip over her. Who was she? Where was she going? She looked to be in a rush, as if someone behind her had called her name and she turned, searching for them after she'd been walking toward Sarah. How curious. Who would draw such a vague picture when the others were clear and portrait-style posed?
"Who are you? Where are you going?" Sarah sighed and rested her chin in one palm while the other hand continued to trace the outline of the girl. "I wish I could follow you, discover your secrets. Someone like you must have them."
A dusting of glitter sparkled over the page, and her vision narrowed and grayed until all she saw was the woman and motes of light dancing. Sounds receded-the blustering wind abusing the diamond panes, the smack of sleet on the glass and the whistling howl of something unnatural crossing over.
Snapping her head up, Sarah expected to see the rows of dark wood shelves packed with books. Instead, dozens of garishly dressed people in masks surrounded her, and there, only a few feet distant, in the center of the partygoers. His frock coat of spangled midnight blue dazzled Sarah's vision, blinding her to the other revelers who swirled and spun as they danced around them. When had they surrounded her?
"Sarah," he drawled and reached a gray gloved hand out for her. "It's time."
Mouth falling open, Sarah stood, forgetting the book as it fell to her feet with a thud. "I know you. You're him," she said as she took his hand and stood, smiling. "You're the Goblin King."
"I am, and I've been searching for you for a very long time." He didn't pull her close, not yet, merely held her hand between them, his thumb rubbing soft circles on her knuckles.
The air crackled, burning with energy, and Sarah felt her jeans alter-full skirts swooshing around her legs-while she continued to stare into his mismatched eyes. Such intensity, she would melt if she looked too long. Dropping her head, she saw she wore the same white gown as the girl in the book and asked, "Why?"
The fingers of his opposite hand caught her chin and gently raised her head until she had to meet his eyes again. "To which question?"
"All of them." He laughed. Threw his head back and laughed with an open-mouth bass that sent evil thrills of sin down her spine. She knew that laugh. She'd forgotten it. She'd craved it and didn't realize it until now.
"Oh, precious, how I've missed you!"
She swallowed the dry lump in her throat. "Jareth."
He caressed her cheek and pulled her close, wrapping his arm around her waist. "Sarah." He lowered his lips until they hovered over hers.
"Oh god, the Labyrinth, Toby and my horrible wish…" She blinked heavily and groaned. "That's what I've forgotten."
His lips thinned and blanched. "Yes."
"Because I won? A blessing or a curse?"
"Neither, my love. You forgot because you were too young. As you lost the magic of childhood, so too did you lose its memories."
"And now?"
His breath tickled her mouth as his lips parted. "Now, you are of age, and after much effort, I've finally found you again."
Sarah started to pull from his embrace. "For what purpose? You're not going to crown me queen, just like that, because I won. That's ridiculous!"
"Well of course it is. It's a silly rule." Jareth gently tugged her back to his chest. "No, I'm going to crown you queen because I love you."
"You … what?"
Laughing softly, he tilted his head and whispered in her ear, "I love you, Sarah Williams." Then said directly to her, "Is that a good enough reason to return with me, to rule by my side?"
"Oh, well," she bit her lower lip and fiddled with the rhinestones on the high collar of his coat. "I suppose that is a better reason."
"Stubborn girl." Jareth snuck a quick peck on her lips, and Sarah froze, wide-eyed. Time thickened between them, and she inhaled slowly, watching him and waiting. Jareth was many things, but he was not a fool who passed up opportunities.
The second time he pressed his lips to hers, he was slower, more serious, as if all time was in his possession. Which, in a way, it was. He kissed her until she drew back, lightheaded and clinging to him, her legs quivering so that her gown shook. Cupping her chin with one hand, he tilted her head up again. "Shall we go home, my love?"
Mute, eyes glazed, Sarah nodded and muttered an 'mm-hmm', then allowed him to lead her through the ballroom revelers to an exit that hadn't existed before. She leaned on the arm around her waist, her head resting on his shoulder. "Jareth?"
"Yes, my love?"
"I want to be able to visit my family from the Underground."
"Of course."
"And I need to finish my degree."
"A worthy goal for a queen."
"I still haven't said I'll be queen."
"I know."
"Just so we're clear."
"Crystal, my love."
****
Title:The Girl Who Forgot Everything
Author: jinx1764
Recipient: lady_kurina
Prompt: #1 Sarah is stuck inside due to a snowstorm and is looking for a book before finding a red-leather bound book…#2 and It's a snowy Valentine's Day, and once again Sarah is alone…
Rating: K
Plot Summary/Author's Notes: While researching, Sarah gets stuck in a library during a snowstorm on Valentine's Day and finds an interesting book bound in red leather. What dreams and answers might it show her?
Sarah Williams favored three things: books, libraries and snowy days. So when she woke to heavy flurries on her third Valentine's Day alone, she had decided it was a Saturday made for research. While the majority of the campus would be prepping for a night of crimson-colored debauchery punctuated with feints of romance, she'd be buried in books-the perfect holiday.
Rushing from her apartment, she stopped at the coffee house to get a refill in her personal travel mug, then carefully tucked her grande, upside down, double shot, salted, no whip, fat free, caramel macchiato (and maple scone) inside her oversized purse. She needed to sneak them past Mrs. Starkly. Desecration of the sacred library with foodstuffs was not allowed on pain of being subjected to the Dewey decimal system by the old card catalog instead of computer.
"Sarah," the middle-aged librarian said with a smile as Sarah pushed through the second set of front doors.
Sarah had left her snow-dusted trench coat and galoshes in the large entry atrium, where they were busy forming a puddle of melt water nearly by their lonesome. A few other forlorn winter coats sagged on the pegs, drip-drip-dripping messes upon the rubber mats lining the speckled marble floor.
"Morning, Mrs. Starkly," she said, removing her crocheted cap, then finger combing her long brown hair as she discreetly scratched her scalp. The itches always got her after wearing winter caps, made her dry skin drier as if they sucked the oil directly from her pores.
"I rather expected you might show up today." Mrs. Starkly winked and set her pen down as she leaned forward with both forearms on her desk. "Even on Valentine's Day."
Sarah shrugged. "Well, you know me…"
"Oh Sarah." Mrs. Starkly slipped her reading glasses off. "A nice young lady like you should be out socializing, meeting boys, not spending her time in stuffy old buildings with stuffy old ladies."
Sarah laughed softly and waved a hand at her. "You're not stuffy; you're quirky." Mrs. Starkly shook her head and smiled as Sarah added, "And I've had boyfriends, but they're usually so … I don't know." She shrugged again and twirled a length of hair around her fingers. "Besides, I like spending time here; especially since my family's so far away."
"Mmm, I'm sure the summer must seem so far away now."
"It does, and yet, somehow it seems like only a few days ago we celebrated Toby's tenth birthday at the lake house. You know, this was my last summer living with my family. After I graduate, I have to grow up for real and get a job." Sarah sighed and released her hank of hair. "No more goofing off."
Mrs. Starkly patted her arm. "It's not so bad, Sarah, being an adult."
"I know. It's just I feel like…"
"Like what?"
"Like there's something important I keep forgetting, and if I don't remember soon, I never will." Sarah leaned on the desk, giving the librarian an earnest stare. "Does that make sense?"
Mrs. Starkly enfolded Sarah's hands in hers, sharing her warmth. "I think, perhaps, you're a bit afraid of what's waiting for you after college, dear. You've spend so much time working towards your master's, that it's easy to want to stay tucked away here forever."
"Maybe…"
"You'll do fine. You always do." She released Sarah's hands and satup. "By the way, you're in luck today; hardly anyone else is here, so your spot will be nice and private."
Sarah straightened and clutched her purse close to her side. "Wonderful! I'm nearly finished with the research and outline. Hopefully I can start writing my thesis this weekend since it's due in about six weeks."
"History of labyrinths, right?"
"Yep! You'd be surprised at how often labyrinths show up in human history and myths."
"Really? Well, I'm sure you'll do marvelously, dear."
"Thanks," she said, stepping back and walking farther into the library, making sure to hold her bag close to her side. Through the thick leather, the reusable, plastic coffee cup was still upright and secure. Spilling that inside her bag-ick!-now that would be an epic disaster. "I'll see you later," Sarah said over her shoulder.
"Of course, oh and Sarah…"
"Yes?" She stopped and turned.
"The weather report says the snow is supposed to get heavier, so don't get too distracted back there. Wouldn't want you trapped overnight."
"Thanks, yeah that wouldn't be good," Sarah said with a weak smile and a wave as she continued to her special hiding spot located halfway between literature and history (with a bit of mythology for flavor). She'd always had a strange fascination with myths, legends and fairytales. Too bad it was difficult to make a living with a degree in mythology or else she'd ditch her English degree (which was lame enough unless one wanted to teach).
A Tudor style, diamond-paned window towered over a comfortably-worn leather club chair tucked in her corner. Tempted to flop butt-first in a spine-twisting slouch, she resisted. First she needed to empty her bag of the coffee and scone, then hunt down relevant research material to lug back and spread around on the floor and small table next to her in an explosion of random knowledge.
Approximately twenty minutes later, she was wedged into her study position; her long cardigan snuggled around her shoulders and legs tucked to protect her from the cool air radiating from the leaded glass behind her. There was nothing like fresh, falling snow and diffuse rays of weak sunlight to stimulate the urge for hot, cholesterol-plaque enriched coffee while researching in a cozy nook. She sighed in contentment, eyes drifting heavily over the black and white page while she took notes with a silver glitter pen with black ink. There was a thesis somewhere in this jumble, and once she'd gathered enough data, she'd find the thread….the piece… the connection of all the dots…
"Sarah."
"Hmm?" Her head jolted up, eyelids popping open. Had she drifted off?
Mrs. Starkly stood over her, lips pursed. "We're the last ones here, and the weather is getting worse, so I'm closing early."
"Oh?" Sarah turned in her seat, checking outside. Curlicues of white powder flew horizontally through the air, and she could barely see the trees in the quad. She checked her antique pendant watch, which was usually loud enough that she never lost track of its comforting ticks. "Oh! It's been hours, I hadn't noticed."
Mrs. Starkly smiled. "I thought so." One hand on a hip, she mock scolded her with the other. "And if you're not at the front in half an hour, I'm dragging you out."
Laughing, Sarah closed her books and sat up from her slouch. "Fair enough."
"By the way," the older woman added as she nodded towards the coffee cup and paper napkin littered with scone crumbs, "next time you sneak in a snack, make sure you bring me a decaf with two creams, no sugar."
"Wh-? Sorry… You got it."
Mrs. Starkly walked off, chuckling and shaking her head, while Sarah packed her things and collected the books. She'd need to hurry to get them back to their places; she wouldn't dare leave them out for Mrs. Starkly to find later. She'd already gotten off easy with the coffee. Once the last of the dozen reference books slid back into their narrow homes, Sarah was winding her way back to her nook when she saw it. The unusual tome she'd never noticed until that precise moment.
"That's odd."
How many times had she walked this main aisle? Maybe it had been checked out before. She was sure she would've seen its blazing red leather and gilt spine. She tilted her head and read the title, A Practical Guide to the Denizens to the Labyrinth. How had she missed it? It was lusciously antique in the pristine manner of one whose books are well cared for, and a passion swept through Sarah to know its contents. Mrs. Starkly would be running her out soon, but snippet of a glimpse wouldn't take long…
As soon as she thought it, she reached, tongue drying as her fingers caressed the kid leather. Withdrawing the thick volume before she had a chance to scold or doubt herself, she slid it free and supported it with both hands. Weighted, gilded perfection smelling of crisp vellum and old ink lay in her hands. The spell of literature wove around and through her, and she lowered her nose and inhaled deeply, filling her lungs until she felt lightheaded.
Hurry, before Mrs. Starkly finds you!
Sarah cracked open the cover, fingers abuzz and tingling. Upon the old ivory vellum, a vivid picture of a wizened, hobbit-like creature dressed in motley clothing greeted her. The caption below read:
Hoggle, the dwarf-(Pumilius Pumilio) - head gardener and master fairy-killer for the Goblin King. He's known throughout the Labyrinth as a coward and a cheat. He's attracted to bright, shiny objects and anything he can sell, pawn or bury. His employment and relationship with the Goblin King is based on long-standing, mutual disrespect, but he depends upon the Labyrinth's defenses and the King's generous nature to keep him safe from neighboring realms (due to the Great and Terrible Bog Incident of 1456). No one has trusted Hoggle since the GaTBI, and he lives in constant fear of retaliation should he live the Labyrinth. Goblin Rumors claim the Champion befriended the little scab, thereby convincing him to become trustworthy and good, but no one really believes them. The King's response to the rumor: ‘Hogsbreath, friends with the Champion? Not if he knows what's good for his long-term, olfactory health.'
Sarah's brows furrowed as she chuckled softly. "How funny. He doesn't look cowardly. A little goofy with that crazy nose and those eyebrows make him look like Grumpy, but he's probably very sweet." She glanced at her loudly ticking watch-hmm, fifteen minutes before she had to go. "Who else lives in the Labyrinth?" she said as she turned the page with two fingers delicately pinching the corner.
A bright blue caterpillar with a friendly expression and a fluffy spine of fur practically sprang out of the next picture. "He's adorable!" she said, running her fingers over the slightly rough image. It wasn't a typical lithograph, but not quite hand painted either.
The Worm-(Coscinocera Mohawk) - a cockney species distantly related to the Hercules Moth (Coscinocera Hercules), they live primarily in the walls of the Labyrinth. Both sexes are monogamous, gregarious and love Earl Grey tea-English style; though the female tends to be more of a recluse and one must visit her domicile in order to observe her friendly disposition. If you ever need to ask directions, the Worm is dependable, but your questions must be specific, otherwise you'll wander the Labyrinth's corridors until the Goblin King tricks you into an oubliette (after he gets his obligatory, vicarious feel through the Wall of Hands as you fall into the trap). How the worm has gotten away with knowing the secret to the central of the Labyrinth can only be speculated, but it's assumed the Goblin King sees the acting of stepping on a worm beneath him, and therefore allows this gentle creature to co-exist as long as he doesn't cause further trouble.
"Well, if I'm ever in the Labyrinth, I'll be sure to remember to ask the worm for help. He looks pleasant. And I'll definitely avoid the Walls of Hands, ewww." She checked her watch again-thirteen minutes left. Since her belongings were already packed, she decided to take this wonderful book back to her chair and enjoy it until she was kicked out. Making herself comfortable, Sarah flipped to the next page.
A furry orange beast filled the page, hulking like a gorilla, but with a gentle face crowned by short horns.
Ludo-rockcaller (Bestia Lapidatoris) - called a monster by some less intelligent denizens of the Labyrinth. While simple-minded, rockcallers are also kind and placid by nature. Vegetarians, rockcallers consume all manner of indigent greens and fruits. Centuries ago, the Goblin King imported a few to take advantage of their primary defense, which is their inherent ability to activate the kinetic energy of any sized, loose rock. Unfortunately, or fortunately if you're a rockcaller, they escaped captivity and fled the castle. The King's goblins have been unable to recapture any in the last two hundred years. Some attribute the King's irritability to this failed plan (Goblin Rumor is that he invested thousands of pounds of Goblin Gold on their initial capture and importation). Ludo is the last known rockcaller residing in the Labyrinth and was freed from near capture by the Champion during her Quest. Dubbed Sir Ludo by Sir Didymus and named brother-in-arms after their fierce battle at the Bridge over the Bog of Eternal Stench.
"Wow! Now that sounds like a useful skill! Lucky for them, they escaped." Sarah grinned, ignoring the increasing howls of wind through the window behind her and the thickening gloom. She did, however, check her watch a third time. "Good, still have ten minutes." She glanced up and around, no sign of Mrs. Starkly.
Next page displayed the silliest character yet. A fox? A dog? He was dressed in Shakespearian garb and holding a staff, and the feather in his cap slumped over in fatigue. So lifelike, Sarah thought he might twitch his nose, wiggle his handlebar mustache and call her ‘milady'. She grinned back at him. "You're a silly fellow, aren't you?"
Sir Didymus-(Vulpes Canis Bellator) No one knows exactly where this noble, but olfactory-impaired, knight hails from or anything about his family history. He appeared one day from beyond the Labyrinth and declared the defense of the Bridge over Bog of Eternal Stench his Knight's Quest. A few denizens (mainly goblins) complained to the Goblin King, who ignored the ridiculous problem since everyone, but the most I.Q. impaired residents, avoided traveling over the Bog in the first place. Regarding the issue, the King is quoted: ‘If the fool wants to play guard dog or fox-or whatever the bloody hell he is-for the foul place, let him; but he is forever banned from the castle.' Nothing more was said of the affair until the bridge was destroyed during the Champion's Quest, in which Ludo defeated Sir Didymus in a fair and fierce battle lasting one score and two minutes(by the rough estimate of some). Thereafter, Ludo was called brother-in-arms to the noble knight. Once the Champion departed the Labyrinth (and a suitable time of lamentation passed for the King's honorable defeat in battle) Sir Didymus petitioned the King to rebuild the bridge. Repair plans, however, are currently on hold due to some conflict of poultry financial interests. The King refuses to comment on any information regarding said royal monies earmarked for bridge repair, other than stating ‘…they are not fowl-derived, Bog take you!'
Sarah laughed aloud, wondering what sort of kingdom would allow a place like the Bog of Eternal Stench to exist within their borders and what sort of knight would want to guard it. What sort of king ruled over this Labyrinth, and what exactly was ‘poultry financial interests' and why did they care about a bridge over a stinky bog?
"These characters are hilarious. I have to figure out a way to work them into my thesis."
The winds picked up speed and ferocity, battering the panes until they rattled. She tucked her cardigan around her, ignoring the colder air streaming down like a river from the lack of insulation. She flipped to the next page, ignoring her ticking watch (which now showed eight minutes left had she bothered to check) and her eyes dilated onto a page of iridescent black surrounding a pale, radiant face of the man himself…
Jareth, the Goblin King-(Fata Gobelinus Rex) a mischievous, morally ambiguous, fae male of undetermined age possessing immense magical powers, which he wields with the expertise of a master and the dexterity of a juggler. He prefers using focusing crystals in many of his spells. His thousand year rule of the Labyrinth is infamous throughout the Underground. He knows no equal and has never crowned a Goblin Queen. His extended bachelorhood, penchant for skintight black leather, singing and dancing, high-heeled boots, glitter and extra-strength hair spray to support his gravity defying up-dos have incited speculation regarding his sexual orientation (a serious problem since he has yet to beget a royal heir). However, the first to have actually verbalized the public's doubt (a brownie by the name of Dan) was last seen being dipped head first into the Bog of Eternal Stench. The Goblin King's primary duty (other than creeper-stalking and baby-napping) is to preside over Runners proving their worth during the Challenge in his Labyrinth. Only one Labyrinth Champion has ever been declared, but she disappeared before she claimed her rightful place as Goblin Queen (goblins blame the Champion for the King's decade long bad mood). It is said the King still searches for the Champion, and some (braver or dumber) goblins whisper that he pines for her (there are Goblin Rumors that he cries out her name in every emotion, depending upon his mood)-though no goblin has freely admitted to their King's bruised love life for fear of swift reprisal via booted defenestration.
Sarah gulped; a burning raced from her head to her groin as the Goblin King's inhuman eyes leapt from the two dimensional image and whirled magic over her skin. Licking her lips, she rubbed the pad of one finger around the edge of his face. He didn't look quite angry or harsh, but there was something wrong … something missing from his expression. He looked … heartbroken?
"What happened to you, Goblin King? Are you really searching for her? What will you do if you find her?"
The storm assaulting the window faded from her perception, and the library blurred in her periphery as Sarah studied the powerful man in the book. Who was he? A myth? A legend? She'd never heard of him, yet his name, title and image tugged at her like a hangnail she'd thankfully forgotten-sore, worrisome and aching from too much biting at the edges. Reluctantly, she lifted and turned the page, moving her head to watch him invert and slip away like a memory she'd never possessed, yet forgotten all the same.
Sighing, she saw next page and froze. A dark-haired woman, partially turned away, adorned the entire page. Sarah couldn't see her face, only the hint of her profile. She wore a crystal white ball gown, sleek and elegant, but for some reason Sarah though it should be puffier, though it was still stunning. Smiling, she examined every sparkling detail of the formal garment as déjà vu swept over her.
Goblin Queen by Right of Conquest-(Fata Gobelinus Regina Bellator) - also known as The Girl Who Ate the Peach and Forgot Everything, the Labyrinth Champion, the Champion and Lady of the Labyrinth.
"That's it?" She flipped the page back and forth, but found nothing. No further text or pictures, but several more empty pages as if the book awaited continuation by an unknown author. "But … that can't be it!"
Going back, she studied every minute aspect of the image of the woman and her blurry surroundings, tracing a fingertip over her. Who was she? Where was she going? She looked to be in a rush, as if someone behind her had called her name and she turned, searching for them after she'd been walking toward Sarah. How curious. Who would draw such a vague picture when the others were clear and portrait-style posed?
"Who are you? Where are you going?" Sarah sighed and rested her chin in one palm while the other hand continued to trace the outline of the girl. "I wish I could follow you, discover your secrets. Someone like you must have them."
A dusting of glitter sparkled over the page, and her vision narrowed and grayed until all she saw was the woman and motes of light dancing. Sounds receded-the blustering wind abusing the diamond panes, the smack of sleet on the glass and the whistling howl of something unnatural crossing over.
Snapping her head up, Sarah expected to see the rows of dark wood shelves packed with books. Instead, dozens of garishly dressed people in masks surrounded her, and there, only a few feet distant, in the center of the partygoers. His frock coat of spangled midnight blue dazzled Sarah's vision, blinding her to the other revelers who swirled and spun as they danced around them. When had they surrounded her?
"Sarah," he drawled and reached a gray gloved hand out for her. "It's time."
Mouth falling open, Sarah stood, forgetting the book as it fell to her feet with a thud. "I know you. You're him," she said as she took his hand and stood, smiling. "You're the Goblin King."
"I am, and I've been searching for you for a very long time." He didn't pull her close, not yet, merely held her hand between them, his thumb rubbing soft circles on her knuckles.
The air crackled, burning with energy, and Sarah felt her jeans alter-full skirts swooshing around her legs-while she continued to stare into his mismatched eyes. Such intensity, she would melt if she looked too long. Dropping her head, she saw she wore the same white gown as the girl in the book and asked, "Why?"
The fingers of his opposite hand caught her chin and gently raised her head until she had to meet his eyes again. "To which question?"
"All of them." He laughed. Threw his head back and laughed with an open-mouth bass that sent evil thrills of sin down her spine. She knew that laugh. She'd forgotten it. She'd craved it and didn't realize it until now.
"Oh, precious, how I've missed you!"
She swallowed the dry lump in her throat. "Jareth."
He caressed her cheek and pulled her close, wrapping his arm around her waist. "Sarah." He lowered his lips until they hovered over hers.
"Oh god, the Labyrinth, Toby and my horrible wish…" She blinked heavily and groaned. "That's what I've forgotten."
His lips thinned and blanched. "Yes."
"Because I won? A blessing or a curse?"
"Neither, my love. You forgot because you were too young. As you lost the magic of childhood, so too did you lose its memories."
"And now?"
His breath tickled her mouth as his lips parted. "Now, you are of age, and after much effort, I've finally found you again."
Sarah started to pull from his embrace. "For what purpose? You're not going to crown me queen, just like that, because I won. That's ridiculous!"
"Well of course it is. It's a silly rule." Jareth gently tugged her back to his chest. "No, I'm going to crown you queen because I love you."
"You … what?"
Laughing softly, he tilted his head and whispered in her ear, "I love you, Sarah Williams." Then said directly to her, "Is that a good enough reason to return with me, to rule by my side?"
"Oh, well," she bit her lower lip and fiddled with the rhinestones on the high collar of his coat. "I suppose that is a better reason."
"Stubborn girl." Jareth snuck a quick peck on her lips, and Sarah froze, wide-eyed. Time thickened between them, and she inhaled slowly, watching him and waiting. Jareth was many things, but he was not a fool who passed up opportunities.
The second time he pressed his lips to hers, he was slower, more serious, as if all time was in his possession. Which, in a way, it was. He kissed her until she drew back, lightheaded and clinging to him, her legs quivering so that her gown shook. Cupping her chin with one hand, he tilted her head up again. "Shall we go home, my love?"
Mute, eyes glazed, Sarah nodded and muttered an 'mm-hmm', then allowed him to lead her through the ballroom revelers to an exit that hadn't existed before. She leaned on the arm around her waist, her head resting on his shoulder. "Jareth?"
"Yes, my love?"
"I want to be able to visit my family from the Underground."
"Of course."
"And I need to finish my degree."
"A worthy goal for a queen."
"I still haven't said I'll be queen."
"I know."
"Just so we're clear."
"Crystal, my love."