The Faerie Bond: Part 4
Sep. 19th, 2011 10:42 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
caersidyddTitle: The Faerie Bond
Chapter: 4 (end)
Fandom: Labyrinth
Genre: General
Word Count: 2,314
Rating: K
Disclaimer: I neither have nor claim any affiliation with the Jim Henson company or Lucas films. All characters are property to their creators, none of which are me.
Summary: Since the night she ran the Labyrinth Sarah has lived a life relatively free of magic and the Fey. However, the Fair Folk are the only ones she finds she can turn to when the barren adult Sarah wants a baby. Can she trust the Fairies? Or is it all one big mistake?
She climbed and climbed. There didn’t seem to be an end to the hill side as she attempted to scale it. She didn’t remember it being this high either. She continued to climb and as she did she stumbled and fell to the ground, one hand instinctively shooting out to break her fall. Electricity shot up her thighs and up her arm where her knees and hand had hit the ground. The knees of her jeans would be grass stained, perhaps torn, she knew, and she was fairly certain that something sharp hidden in the grass had cut the heel of her palm. That did not stop her from scrabbling up the hill side on hand and knees. Her free arm protectively clutched her baby to her chest though it was secured to her body in a little sling.
This time as she climbed she heard no music from beneath the ground. There were no stones reaching for the tree tops. The silence clenched her heart in horror, yet still she scrabbled her way up the hill. Finally her eyes found the crest of the hill in the moonlight and she let out a gasp of relief as her eyes spied the large white mushrooms. They seemed almost to glow in the light of the full moon that hung pregnant in the sky overhead. Sarah kneeled outside of the ring, catching her breath as she studied the hilltop. Her face was full of confusion. The Fairy Ring was there but the Standing Stones were gone. Did that mean that the Fairy Queen was not here? Did that mean the Fair Folk had abandoned this place all together?
Sarah’s gulps for air became shallow, panicked gasps. The fairies couldn’t be gone, she thought. They simply could not be gone. It had taken her so long to find this place how could they be gone?
The woman jumped to her feet in frenzy, “Fairy Queen!” She cried out. “Answer me! Please!”
There was no response from beneath the fairy mound. Sarah screamed out her frustration and began circling the outside of the Fairy Ring calling all the while,
“Fairy Queen! I beg you, please answer me!” but there was no response.
The night grew colder and the wind that had been a breeze was picking up from the west. Sarah circled the Fairy Ring again and again. Just why, she was not certain except that she felt she was drawn to do it and doing it eased her mind though not enough to keep her from crying out entreaties to the Queen of the Fairies.
She circled the ring nine times before she finally came to a stop. She wrapped her arms around and hunched over the baby against her chest, protecting him from the whipping wind that stung her own eyes. After a moment her head slowly lifted. Her brows were knitted together in concentration. She wasn’t certain but over the sound of the wind she thought she could hear the sound of a single wooden flute.
“Hello?” Sarah called out, her voice hoarse from screaming into the wind. “Are you there? Please listen to me.”
The flute continued to play.
And then she heard something else, something that caused her already numb and shivering body to quake. It was like a laugh, but it hissed at the ends and while it was light hearted it was also laced with malice. Sarah’s head snapped from left to right, her eyes wide in fear. She spun around to look behind. The sound of the flute rose in pitch and fervor. The laugh sounded again. It wasn’t just one creature that laughed, she realized. It was many.
“Who’s there?” she called out.
Something moved in her peripheral vision and Sarah jerked around just in time to see dark, lumpy shapes hurry between the trees through the moonlight. The notes of the flute sounded in a quick, meaningless frenzy. The harsh sound circled about her, as the wind whipped her hair. She should not be here, she thought. She had to leave.
She took a step back and what happened next happened so suddenly, and she was so distracted by what was in the trees and the cacophony of the flute that she could not react until it was far too late. Something rushed her. She was not sure later whether it was something large or small or something in between but it rushed her from the side and collided with her bodily. She stumbled and flung out a hand, her eyes going wide with shock. She tried to grasp for the thing that had struck her but there was nothing. Her arms pin wheeled to keep her balance as she fell back. With horror she recognized the grasp of spidery magic as she fell to through the barrier created by the Fairy Ring. She let out a short scream.
Everything was calm. Thunder sounded in the distance, but it was muted. Neither it nor the wind touched this Other world. The song of the flute became melodic and it was closer now. It sent a shiver up Sarah’s spine. There was something familiar about the melody, but at the same time not. As though someone had taken a song from her childhood and reworked it so that it caused a feeling of dread to settle in the pit of her stomach. Sarah clutched her baby to her chest.
The sound of the flute stopped and there was a pregnant pause.
“Hello, Sarah.”
Sarah gasped slightly and whipped around. The man who addressed her sat upon a strange throne that seemed to be draped with a dark cloth. He lounged in it, twirling a reed flute between his fingers. He was dressed in shades of white and grey that had an effect of stoicism on his appearance, but his face of otherworldly features grinned at her with mirth and malice. His hair was blond, or was it silver?, and framed his face in a spikey, wild sort of way.
Sarah knew she knew this man. Memories of Toby and the Labyrinth came back to her. Her memory of him specifically was so dim, blurred, whether by magic or time she had no idea, but that didn’t stop her from suddenly blurting out,
“You’re the Goblin King.”
“Am I?” The Goblin King responded, and looked around as if someone else might be in the vicinity. When he looked back to her it was with an expression of annoyance. “You always did have a knack for stating the obvious, didn’t you, Sarah?” He stood from the throne with a flourish of legs and arms and white cloth. The flute was gone from his hand.
“What do you want from me?” Sarah asked, fear outweighing her indignance. “I came to speak to the Fairy Queen.”
The Goblin King spread out his arms and turned slightly to either side, “As you can see she is not here,” he let his arms drop. “There is just me,” he grinned, “and my Goblins.”
“I need to see the Fairy Queen. I need to speak to her.”
“I’m afraid not, Sarah,” The Goblin King replied, suddenly very interested in his gloves. “You see, I’m afraid you’ve broken your contract.”
“No!” Sarah practically shouted. “That’s wrong! The Fairy Queen didn’t fulfill her half of the bargain so that contract is void!”
“You agreed,” the Goblin King continued, heedless of Sarah’s outburst, “that, should you break your contract, your life and the life of your child would be forfeit, and it has been. To me.”
Sarah clutched the bundle that was her child closer to her chest and the Goblin King smirked.
“Oh come now, Sarah. You’re not really still hugging that thing are you?”
The woman bristled, “He’s not a thing! He’s my baby!”
“Is he? Perhaps you should look again,” replied the Goblin King with a face of mock seriousness and a nod toward the sling.
Sarah’s brows came together in worry, for she knew what the Goblin King was capable of, and looked down into her sling. The weight was familiar but there was something suddenly odd and cumbersome about the child she carried. Sarah hurriedly peeled back the blanket, horror griping her stomach like an icy vice. She screamed. Out of the blankets tumbled a thick head of dark, leafy green cabbage. It landed on the ground with a thunk and the Goblin King let out a dark, full bodied laugh, his lips pulling back in his mirth to display all his sharp, white teeth.
“Stop it! Stop it!” Sarah cried. She felt as though she was going to be sick. “Bring him back!” she sobbed. “Bring me back my baby!”
The Goblin King ceased to laugh, his features snapping back into cold disdain, “Sarah,” he said, and his voice was like a warning to get her attention. He continued slowly, as though she were someone to whom one must take great care in explaining the simplest of principles. “That was your baby, Sarah.” His demeanor changed yet again and Sarah felt like she was going to have some kind of emotional whip lash. He now tutted at her softly, “Sarah, Sarah. I thought I had taught you better than that while you were in my labyrinth. As your host I am ashamed of myself. Truly. How could you have spent ten hours in my labyrinth and never learned the importance of words.”
“What are you talking about?” Sarah shouted her voice pained.
The Goblin King’s face grew feral, “Foolish little girl. You asked the Fairy Queen for a baby. You didn’t specify what kind of baby. In fact I believe your words were ‘it doesn’t matter’.”
“But—but—“ Sarah groped about in her mind for some logical argument to refute the Goblin King and prove that she was in the right, not the Fairy Queen. That it was the Fairy Queen that had broken their contract not Sarah herself.
Her mouth opened and closed helplessly. How could she have been so stupid? She should have known. She had known! How had she fallen into the same trap as every other stupid woman in every single fairy tale she had ever read?
“I see you finally understand,” The Goblin King said. His tone was smooth and silky, nearly inviting. He held out a hand to her, “Now come, Sarah.”
Sarah wrapped her arms around her shoulders and glared at the Goblin King suspiciously. Tears continued to roll down her cheeks, though now she made no sound to accompany her sorrow, “What?”
The Goblin King sighed and flared his fingers slightly, “I told you. Your life belongs to me now.” His tone became slightly softer, “But don’t be troubled. You won’t become a goblin. I have something else in mind for you, Precious.”
Sarah leaned away slightly, suddenly wary of the possessive expression in the Goblin King’s eyes. His fingers flared again,
“You do not have a choice, Sarah,” He said sternly. “You have nothing waiting for you in the world you are leaving behind. Think of it, Sarah. You can return to an empty life of broken dreams or you can come with me to my Labyrinth. You will have everything you ever wished for, Sarah, and more.”
“If I don’t have a choice,” Sarah said suddenly, “then why are you trying to convince me.”
The Goblin King bore his teeth slightly, “Because I am a gentleman, Sarah. Or would you rather I dragged you down against your will? It could be arranged.”
He retracted the hand he held out to her and snapped his fingers. At his command Sarah was surrounded by a score of goblins, short and tall and dirty, who grabbed her with strong hands and boney fingers. They laughed their hissing laugh at her and she screamed. Sarah struggled to pull herself out of the clutches of the goblins but they were too many and too strong. As she fought, the Goblin King talked, as if absolutely nothing out of the ordinary were happening.
“Of course if you choose this way then I probably will just turn you into a goblin,” He sighed a long suffering sigh. “I am disappointed, Sarah. After all this time I had hoped you would have become a bit more sensible. Oh well.” He lifted his hand,
“Wait!” cried, Sarah. “Wait! I’ll go with you!”
The Goblin King’s brows lifted, “Oh? Changed our mind have we?” He dismissed the goblins with a flick of his wrist and Sarah and he were suddenly alone again.
Sarah bowed her head, “You’re right…about my not having anything. All I had was…” she gestured down at the cabbage, unable to call it her baby anymore. She looked away, her eyes closing tightly. “I did learn something in your labyrinth, Goblin King,” she continued. Her voice was soft and heavy with defeat. “I learned I needed to grow up. I learned I needed to be responsible. Your goblins shoved me in…but I never should have been here to begin with.” She looked up at the Goblin King, “So I’ll go with you.”
The Goblin King looked mildly surprised. He held out his hand again and Sarah slowly lifted her hand to lay within his. The Goblin King’s face split into a wide grin, too many of his sharp, white teeth showing.
“You have made the right choice, Precious, and it only took you twelve years.”
Sarah’s brows came together in confusing, “What?”
The Goblin King’s grin became wider, more feral, “Out of curiosity do you recall the second stipulation to your contract with the Fairy Queen?”
“What?!” Sarah screeched.
“Oh good.”
The echo of Sarah’s scream rang out into the night and lightning cracked overhead, followed by a rumble of thunder. The Goblin King and Sarah disappeared in the flash, followed only by the hissing laughter of goblins.
Chapter: 4 (end)
Fandom: Labyrinth
Genre: General
Word Count: 2,314
Rating: K
Disclaimer: I neither have nor claim any affiliation with the Jim Henson company or Lucas films. All characters are property to their creators, none of which are me.
Summary: Since the night she ran the Labyrinth Sarah has lived a life relatively free of magic and the Fey. However, the Fair Folk are the only ones she finds she can turn to when the barren adult Sarah wants a baby. Can she trust the Fairies? Or is it all one big mistake?
She climbed and climbed. There didn’t seem to be an end to the hill side as she attempted to scale it. She didn’t remember it being this high either. She continued to climb and as she did she stumbled and fell to the ground, one hand instinctively shooting out to break her fall. Electricity shot up her thighs and up her arm where her knees and hand had hit the ground. The knees of her jeans would be grass stained, perhaps torn, she knew, and she was fairly certain that something sharp hidden in the grass had cut the heel of her palm. That did not stop her from scrabbling up the hill side on hand and knees. Her free arm protectively clutched her baby to her chest though it was secured to her body in a little sling.
This time as she climbed she heard no music from beneath the ground. There were no stones reaching for the tree tops. The silence clenched her heart in horror, yet still she scrabbled her way up the hill. Finally her eyes found the crest of the hill in the moonlight and she let out a gasp of relief as her eyes spied the large white mushrooms. They seemed almost to glow in the light of the full moon that hung pregnant in the sky overhead. Sarah kneeled outside of the ring, catching her breath as she studied the hilltop. Her face was full of confusion. The Fairy Ring was there but the Standing Stones were gone. Did that mean that the Fairy Queen was not here? Did that mean the Fair Folk had abandoned this place all together?
Sarah’s gulps for air became shallow, panicked gasps. The fairies couldn’t be gone, she thought. They simply could not be gone. It had taken her so long to find this place how could they be gone?
The woman jumped to her feet in frenzy, “Fairy Queen!” She cried out. “Answer me! Please!”
There was no response from beneath the fairy mound. Sarah screamed out her frustration and began circling the outside of the Fairy Ring calling all the while,
“Fairy Queen! I beg you, please answer me!” but there was no response.
The night grew colder and the wind that had been a breeze was picking up from the west. Sarah circled the Fairy Ring again and again. Just why, she was not certain except that she felt she was drawn to do it and doing it eased her mind though not enough to keep her from crying out entreaties to the Queen of the Fairies.
She circled the ring nine times before she finally came to a stop. She wrapped her arms around and hunched over the baby against her chest, protecting him from the whipping wind that stung her own eyes. After a moment her head slowly lifted. Her brows were knitted together in concentration. She wasn’t certain but over the sound of the wind she thought she could hear the sound of a single wooden flute.
“Hello?” Sarah called out, her voice hoarse from screaming into the wind. “Are you there? Please listen to me.”
The flute continued to play.
And then she heard something else, something that caused her already numb and shivering body to quake. It was like a laugh, but it hissed at the ends and while it was light hearted it was also laced with malice. Sarah’s head snapped from left to right, her eyes wide in fear. She spun around to look behind. The sound of the flute rose in pitch and fervor. The laugh sounded again. It wasn’t just one creature that laughed, she realized. It was many.
“Who’s there?” she called out.
Something moved in her peripheral vision and Sarah jerked around just in time to see dark, lumpy shapes hurry between the trees through the moonlight. The notes of the flute sounded in a quick, meaningless frenzy. The harsh sound circled about her, as the wind whipped her hair. She should not be here, she thought. She had to leave.
She took a step back and what happened next happened so suddenly, and she was so distracted by what was in the trees and the cacophony of the flute that she could not react until it was far too late. Something rushed her. She was not sure later whether it was something large or small or something in between but it rushed her from the side and collided with her bodily. She stumbled and flung out a hand, her eyes going wide with shock. She tried to grasp for the thing that had struck her but there was nothing. Her arms pin wheeled to keep her balance as she fell back. With horror she recognized the grasp of spidery magic as she fell to through the barrier created by the Fairy Ring. She let out a short scream.
Everything was calm. Thunder sounded in the distance, but it was muted. Neither it nor the wind touched this Other world. The song of the flute became melodic and it was closer now. It sent a shiver up Sarah’s spine. There was something familiar about the melody, but at the same time not. As though someone had taken a song from her childhood and reworked it so that it caused a feeling of dread to settle in the pit of her stomach. Sarah clutched her baby to her chest.
The sound of the flute stopped and there was a pregnant pause.
“Hello, Sarah.”
Sarah gasped slightly and whipped around. The man who addressed her sat upon a strange throne that seemed to be draped with a dark cloth. He lounged in it, twirling a reed flute between his fingers. He was dressed in shades of white and grey that had an effect of stoicism on his appearance, but his face of otherworldly features grinned at her with mirth and malice. His hair was blond, or was it silver?, and framed his face in a spikey, wild sort of way.
Sarah knew she knew this man. Memories of Toby and the Labyrinth came back to her. Her memory of him specifically was so dim, blurred, whether by magic or time she had no idea, but that didn’t stop her from suddenly blurting out,
“You’re the Goblin King.”
“Am I?” The Goblin King responded, and looked around as if someone else might be in the vicinity. When he looked back to her it was with an expression of annoyance. “You always did have a knack for stating the obvious, didn’t you, Sarah?” He stood from the throne with a flourish of legs and arms and white cloth. The flute was gone from his hand.
“What do you want from me?” Sarah asked, fear outweighing her indignance. “I came to speak to the Fairy Queen.”
The Goblin King spread out his arms and turned slightly to either side, “As you can see she is not here,” he let his arms drop. “There is just me,” he grinned, “and my Goblins.”
“I need to see the Fairy Queen. I need to speak to her.”
“I’m afraid not, Sarah,” The Goblin King replied, suddenly very interested in his gloves. “You see, I’m afraid you’ve broken your contract.”
“No!” Sarah practically shouted. “That’s wrong! The Fairy Queen didn’t fulfill her half of the bargain so that contract is void!”
“You agreed,” the Goblin King continued, heedless of Sarah’s outburst, “that, should you break your contract, your life and the life of your child would be forfeit, and it has been. To me.”
Sarah clutched the bundle that was her child closer to her chest and the Goblin King smirked.
“Oh come now, Sarah. You’re not really still hugging that thing are you?”
The woman bristled, “He’s not a thing! He’s my baby!”
“Is he? Perhaps you should look again,” replied the Goblin King with a face of mock seriousness and a nod toward the sling.
Sarah’s brows came together in worry, for she knew what the Goblin King was capable of, and looked down into her sling. The weight was familiar but there was something suddenly odd and cumbersome about the child she carried. Sarah hurriedly peeled back the blanket, horror griping her stomach like an icy vice. She screamed. Out of the blankets tumbled a thick head of dark, leafy green cabbage. It landed on the ground with a thunk and the Goblin King let out a dark, full bodied laugh, his lips pulling back in his mirth to display all his sharp, white teeth.
“Stop it! Stop it!” Sarah cried. She felt as though she was going to be sick. “Bring him back!” she sobbed. “Bring me back my baby!”
The Goblin King ceased to laugh, his features snapping back into cold disdain, “Sarah,” he said, and his voice was like a warning to get her attention. He continued slowly, as though she were someone to whom one must take great care in explaining the simplest of principles. “That was your baby, Sarah.” His demeanor changed yet again and Sarah felt like she was going to have some kind of emotional whip lash. He now tutted at her softly, “Sarah, Sarah. I thought I had taught you better than that while you were in my labyrinth. As your host I am ashamed of myself. Truly. How could you have spent ten hours in my labyrinth and never learned the importance of words.”
“What are you talking about?” Sarah shouted her voice pained.
The Goblin King’s face grew feral, “Foolish little girl. You asked the Fairy Queen for a baby. You didn’t specify what kind of baby. In fact I believe your words were ‘it doesn’t matter’.”
“But—but—“ Sarah groped about in her mind for some logical argument to refute the Goblin King and prove that she was in the right, not the Fairy Queen. That it was the Fairy Queen that had broken their contract not Sarah herself.
Her mouth opened and closed helplessly. How could she have been so stupid? She should have known. She had known! How had she fallen into the same trap as every other stupid woman in every single fairy tale she had ever read?
“I see you finally understand,” The Goblin King said. His tone was smooth and silky, nearly inviting. He held out a hand to her, “Now come, Sarah.”
Sarah wrapped her arms around her shoulders and glared at the Goblin King suspiciously. Tears continued to roll down her cheeks, though now she made no sound to accompany her sorrow, “What?”
The Goblin King sighed and flared his fingers slightly, “I told you. Your life belongs to me now.” His tone became slightly softer, “But don’t be troubled. You won’t become a goblin. I have something else in mind for you, Precious.”
Sarah leaned away slightly, suddenly wary of the possessive expression in the Goblin King’s eyes. His fingers flared again,
“You do not have a choice, Sarah,” He said sternly. “You have nothing waiting for you in the world you are leaving behind. Think of it, Sarah. You can return to an empty life of broken dreams or you can come with me to my Labyrinth. You will have everything you ever wished for, Sarah, and more.”
“If I don’t have a choice,” Sarah said suddenly, “then why are you trying to convince me.”
The Goblin King bore his teeth slightly, “Because I am a gentleman, Sarah. Or would you rather I dragged you down against your will? It could be arranged.”
He retracted the hand he held out to her and snapped his fingers. At his command Sarah was surrounded by a score of goblins, short and tall and dirty, who grabbed her with strong hands and boney fingers. They laughed their hissing laugh at her and she screamed. Sarah struggled to pull herself out of the clutches of the goblins but they were too many and too strong. As she fought, the Goblin King talked, as if absolutely nothing out of the ordinary were happening.
“Of course if you choose this way then I probably will just turn you into a goblin,” He sighed a long suffering sigh. “I am disappointed, Sarah. After all this time I had hoped you would have become a bit more sensible. Oh well.” He lifted his hand,
“Wait!” cried, Sarah. “Wait! I’ll go with you!”
The Goblin King’s brows lifted, “Oh? Changed our mind have we?” He dismissed the goblins with a flick of his wrist and Sarah and he were suddenly alone again.
Sarah bowed her head, “You’re right…about my not having anything. All I had was…” she gestured down at the cabbage, unable to call it her baby anymore. She looked away, her eyes closing tightly. “I did learn something in your labyrinth, Goblin King,” she continued. Her voice was soft and heavy with defeat. “I learned I needed to grow up. I learned I needed to be responsible. Your goblins shoved me in…but I never should have been here to begin with.” She looked up at the Goblin King, “So I’ll go with you.”
The Goblin King looked mildly surprised. He held out his hand again and Sarah slowly lifted her hand to lay within his. The Goblin King’s face split into a wide grin, too many of his sharp, white teeth showing.
“You have made the right choice, Precious, and it only took you twelve years.”
Sarah’s brows came together in confusing, “What?”
The Goblin King’s grin became wider, more feral, “Out of curiosity do you recall the second stipulation to your contract with the Fairy Queen?”
“What?!” Sarah screeched.
“Oh good.”
The echo of Sarah’s scream rang out into the night and lightning cracked overhead, followed by a rumble of thunder. The Goblin King and Sarah disappeared in the flash, followed only by the hissing laughter of goblins.
