Hey Guys! This story is heavy on Folklore/Fantasy and is (obviously) a romance between Jareth and Sarah. :) Completed.
Summary: Sarah packs her bags with only a pocket full of money, her handy Bucket List, and spare clothes to last her for only a short while. With these in hand, she travels to the beautiful land called Ireland while searching for magic. As she searches, she may find some things that she had not quite been looking for, but she doesn't mind these strange turn of events in the least. J/S
UPDATE: I am currently editing this story but I will not be changing any of the core elements. Just rewording things, correcting grammar (the best I can, at least), and perhaps adding/rewriting some chapters. Filling in and adding on to places that I don't think I elaborated (or gave much thought to) enough.
I will not be taking anything down and will keep this story as close as I can to the original. As I wrote this story I became better at writing and learned some things along the way that I would like to correct in the earlier chapters.
Thank you for reading - I promise my updating shenanigans will not affect your reading experience in the slightest - unless, (hopefully) in a positive way.
Now... Onto the story! :)
Grunting, panting and disgruntled mumbles reverberated through the walls of the hallway. A young woman tugged on the handles of a very large suitcase as she trudged her way up the narrow staircase. "Dear God," She grumbled as her foot landed on the top of the stairs. With another groan, she flexed her arm muscles and lifted the suitcase over the last remaining steps.
Sighing, the young woman leaned her slim body against the luggage, chest heaving as she gathered her bearings. "I should have packed lighter," She grumbled, shaking her head in self-pity. Large locks of dark hair fell over her shoulders, and she pushed it back with a pale hand. Seconds passed before she regained her breath, and soon she was dragging the bag down the hallway with renewed strength.
She paused as she reached the room 113, digging through her jeans for the magical golden metal object called a key. Once she retrieved it, after a fair amount of struggling and searching the mysterious lower corners of her pocket, she pushed it into the lock and twisted the key until a sharp click resounded. The young woman smiled as if she had achieved the simplest task with ease and no slight complications, and she grabbed her suitcase and passed through the open door into a cozy, neat little room.
"Oh, goodness! Dear, look, a new guest." A cheery and gleeful voice announced from behind the young woman.
The young woman paused, turning around and plastering a smile on her wary and exhausted traveling face. "Hello," she greeted. The voice had honestly taken her by surprise, as she had been sure when she unlocked the door that no-one else had been in the hallway, but when the young woman had turned around, she had been met with the sight of two sunny faces.
The older couple stood in the doorway with such rosy merriment flashing in their eyes and cheeks, that the young woman reluctantly noted that they were sure to be an optimistic nuisance. If such a thing was possible.
"Not a new guest, my wife," the man corrected with a jolly smile, giving the old woman next to him a comforting pat on the shoulder, "but a new neighbor!" The older man then threw his hands up in the air and laughed heartily.
"Uh, heh, I won't be staying that long." The young woman chuckled nervously, obviously a little tensed, "I'm Sarah." She outstretched a hesitant arm, but the couple simply shook their hands as if she was ignorant of some longtime tradition.
"Oh, isn't she a sweetie?" The old woman crooned, and the girl's mind briefly flashed a memory of her great-aunt pinching her cheeks as a child, so hard that they had blushed for hours. Sarah shuffled her feet nervously, slowly withdrawing her hand from the odd couple. "We don't shake hands around here, we hug!" The old woman announced, pouncing on Sarah with an amused and delighted smile.
Sarah sank into the red fabric that made up the old woman's thick sweater, and she was joined by the powerful smell of cologne invading her nostrils as the old man graciously made it a group hug. Seconds passed, feeling truly like minutes instead. Just when the girl began to believe that her lungs would surely give out, the couple finally released their hold on her.
Sarah subconsciously shrank back from the couple, giving them a quick wave, and announced that she was going to finish unpacking. Using jet lag as a cliche scapegoat, she escaped into the refuge of her hotel room, making sure to use all of the locks available on the hotel door. She was not taking any chances with the average friendly stalkers that inhabited the outside hallways. Better to be safe than sorry, she reminded herself.
The young woman took this time to study her room, realizing that it was nicer than she had expected it to be. The hotel was indeed a magnificent castle, which was why she had chosen it, but she had expected cold medieval bedrooms, flickering torches lining the corridors and ghosts lingering in the dark recesses of the rooms. Instead, the room seemed to have fairly fresh paint lining the walls, a plush and magnificent bed placed in the center of the room, elegant furniture with a chaise lounging in the corner of the room and most importantly of all- the bed had little mints on the pillows.
Sarah squealed with delight as she flung her bag down on the foot of the bed, and using all her leg strength, bounded and bounced onto the overflowing, cushiony bed. Settling herself, as she sat next to the suitcase, Sarah pulled out a crinkly paper from her jean pockets. The page had seen better days- or years- as the corners had worn down and rips had been taped closed with her expertise taping skills. She tried -to no avail - to smooth out the rough edges before abandoning the impossible quest, and instead seeking out a pen from her bag.
With one finally in hand, she unfolded the paper and used a finger to trace down the list until she hit the correct number. Smiling, Sarah used the pen and crossed out the words "Number 31: Visit Ireland".
She had decided to devise a Bucket List at the age of fifteen and had slowly begun crossing out items and adding new ones as the years passed. Most of the numbers had simply been just ideas, things that she figured she might as well do, since everyone else did it, like getting married, having kids, a white picketed fence and all that jazz. Although, a few on the list were indeed ambitious dreams that she had stumbled upon suddenly and had quickly written them down. Going to Ireland had always been one of those.
The thought to visit this place had manifested when Sarah had been exploring. Not the adventuring or the physically searching type of 'exploring', but the reading and researching type.
Most people could never guess, simply by looking at this young woman, that she had seen many mysterious and mystical things. She had experienced things that most of her kind did not even believe in.
So she had taken to reading.
Reading had been a big 'must-do' in her life, mostly because in order to act, one had to read. It was this activity that had caused her to stumble upon a little unknown play called, 'The Labyrinth'. Unlike what she had believed at first, the labyrinth had truly existed, and she had discovered the actual existence because of a slight miscommunication.
Well, to him it had not been a 'slight miscommunication', but Sarah held strong to the fact that she had not, nor would she ever, have actually meant the words that she had so carelessly let slip through her lips. What was said, was said… Or so she had been told, and this simple phrase had changed her magical encounter into a magical challenge, but that was an old story.
She was starting over, a clean slate. After the labyrinth, the way she viewed fantasy stories sullied. What was the fun in it, if it was true? No, she shook her head, she did not mind so much that it was true. What really got to her was the fact that she could not experience it again. There was some wall that was placed between the magical realm and her's. A wall that kept her dreams out of reach, but every so often would hold them before her, like bait, like a mouth-watering piece of meat dangling above a dog, but never close enough to grasp or taste.
Sarah looked down at the bucket list and lightly tapped an anxious finger on a single line repeatedly. Staring at the words as if they would change her life completely. Bucket list number 32:
Find Magic.
Her green eyes dreamily scrutinized the page, intense and hopeful in thoughts, then she sighed with the word maybe drilling and longingly repeating like a mantra in her mind. She knew that she was supposed to keep pushing forward; she had made it this far to Ireland, so why stop now? Sighing, Sarah placed the small paper into a slot in her suitcase. Ireland was a start towards her dreams, but where did she go from here?
A desperate growl sprang through her thoughts; her stomach shifted uncomfortably. Obviously, Sarah decided with a self-amused smirk, food was where she should definitely start.
The young woman made her way into the cafe, thankful that the castle had a lot of opportunities for food. She had not eaten a very large and hearty meal since the night before she began traveling, and her stomach was relentless in its anguishing growls for sustenance.
The cafe was tiny but had a comforting, homey aura. The smell of baking bread softly waded throughout the room, large windows revealed the lush and green plants sprouting healthily outside, simple tables were placed in no certain order, and people calmly gathered around to eat and laugh together.
Sarah quickly ordered herself a steaming bowl of potato soup and sat down next to a beautiful, ornate window. She stared outside and wondered to herself about all the magical possibilities this night sky could hold. Something had told her, nagging her brain every day until she had hastily written it on the large bucket list, that Ireland was the place where she would find her way around the obscure veil that protected the magical realm from her's. She wasn't sure why, but she just knew.
"Beautiful, isn't it?"
Sarah frowned and turned to see that the older couple from earlier had invited themselves to her table. They gave her a cheerful greet and placed their food down next to her, either oblivious to the scowl on Sarah's face, or they simply were not too bothered by it. She shifted in her seat, her posture suddenly tense.
"Yes, it's gorgeous here." Sarah nodded, before stuffing her face with more potato soup to avoid too much conversation.
The old woman seemed not to care if Sarah's eating mannerisms resembled a glutton's, or not. Instead, she agreed and scooted closer. "Earl," The old woman addressed her husband, "Could you get me a drink, please?" The old man gave his wife a tiring scowl, but she shooed Earl away with no consternation and then turned to Sarah, giving her a glance that said 'Good Riddance,' and sweetly smiled. Sarah could not help but wonder why the woman seemed to want to be alone with her.
"So," Sarah said, not sure how to start a conversation with such an odd woman.
"I here there are fairies out there…" The woman interrupted with a tone that seemed like she was desperately trying to make small talk, and pointing a chubby finger to the window.
Sarah followed the direction the old woman was gazing intently towards, and her eyes traced the lush, shadowy trees that she swore were gleaming in the streams of the moonlight. The darkness held a mysterious air outside as if there could possibly be fairies and other magical beings hiding in the black recesses of the terrain. It was not such a silly thought, Sarah realized, she had come here to chase magic so why turn down the slightest information, even if it seemed quite childish.
"Why do you say that?" Sarah gave the old woman a skeptical glance.
"It's just the stories I hear…" She smiled, lines spreading across her plump, aged face.
"What stories?" Sarah asked, intrigued. She was focused mostly on certain stories. Stories that she felt were closely related to that of the labyrinth, but she was never too close minded to not entertain another. Exploring was what had given her the taste of magic initially.
"Is this your first time staying here?" The old woman pulled back, frowning as if she were affronted at the very fact.
"This is actually my first time out of America…" Sarah shyly smiled. Embarrassed and blushing like a little schoolgirl when a secret crush was revealed.
"Ah, I see." Her posture relaxed, suddenly no longer on alert for whatever reason, "Well, let me be the first one to inform you, then." She gave Sarah a proud smile and drew herself up haughtily. "For you see, my husband and I have been visiting this place for years. I know it like the back of my hand, you know." She informed and Sarah frowned as the old lady shook a plucky finger at her.
"Alright, I'd like that." Sarah leaned a little further away.
"Well," the woman began, "As I'm sure you know, this hotel was once a grand castle. Of course, it's a little smaller now, but I'm not going to go into that reason right now… Anyways, Once upon a time…"
Oh, bother.
Sarah refrained from rolling her eyes at the lady.
The old woman continued, cocking her head this way and that as she began telling her assuredly, highly self-appraised story. "Royalty used to live here - of course, you should know that, but life was not always so luxurious as it is meant to be. A queen named Viona, who was as beautiful as the sun shines, was also as selfish as her allure. She was married to a handsome king…"
Sarah softly gazed out at the night sky as the woman trailed on, trying to pay attention, but this was her first time in Ireland. There was so much to see and so much to do. She felt restless and her mind wandered aimlessly, trying to find excuses to leave this awkward dinner conversation right now.
"She then gave birth to her first son, Avery. He was a beautiful, bubbly little boy. The kingdom was sure he was to be as handsome as his charming father, but they secretly hoped he would not inherit the selfish, stone-cold heart of his mother's. As the months slowly passed on, Queen Voina seemed to become more withdrawn- which was pleasing to all, though they would dare never to say such a thing out loud. She suffered from depression, and resentment slowly began to boil in her core at the love and reverence those gave to her little son." The woman paused, letting her words linger in the air for effect, before she leaned closer to Sarah and continued, "Then, the boy began acting differently. Where the child had been silent before, he began to stir every night for almost no reason at all. His cries could be heard throughout the castle, but none could soothe him. His mother gave no concern, they say she wouldn't even bat an eye. The infant would not smile or laugh. He would cry so hard that his young voice faded out within days, before one morning… the castle awoke to silence. For the first time in weeks, there was not a single cry. They were relieved, yet a little concerned. Rightfully so, for the boy had passed on in the early hours of the morning. His frail form cold and deathly pale."
"What does this have to do with fairies?" Sarah frowned, not caring for the horror story, even if it was just some local legend.
"Well, you see. From then on every child welcomed into this royal family suffered this same fate; all ten of them."
"Wait, this woman had ten kids?" Sarah asked incredulously.
"The king needed an heir, and every baby they had would almost shrivel up and die within weeks of it being born. What made this so strange was that the queen never held remorse for any of her children's deaths. Not a single tear upon her cheek, but the king - he was different. Each death took its toll on him in different ways. His grief so strong that he eventually gave up on having an heir, and he passed the throne down to one of his nephews."
Sarah nodded, beginning to be drawn in and captivated by the story.
"What made this so strange," the lady continued, "Was that the queen was hardly surprised when hearing about the death of her next child. Now, before you say that she shouldn't be surprised because of the frequent occurrence of her children's deaths, I want to tell you that this woman seemed almost delighted every time. It wasn't long until the village began to call her a witch. They believed that she would cast spells upon her children, as they would turn from perfectly healthy and rosy, to pale and sickly overnight, and each time the queen would seem delighted."
"That's horrible," Sarah scowled, repulsed.
"Indeed, but… it wasn't until a certain event that the village began believing that there were more magical beings involved than just witchcraft and curses. A maid was on her way to the royal chambers to change the sheets when she spotted a creature, vile and mean. It hissed at her like a cat would, and quickly scurried out of the room with haste. It was not until the maid recovered from her shock that she realized what it had been…" She paused.
"What was it?" Sarah asked, leaning closer.
"... A fairy."
Sarah snorted.
"Laugh all you want, but it's true. I've seen the pests myself. They don't grant wishes and wave around some magical wand like most would believe." The old woman scolded.
"No, of course not," Sarah sobered, "Fairies bite."
The old woman shook her head in pity, seeming to take Sarah's suddenly serious tone as mocking. "It's not something to mess around with. They say the fairies that you laugh and joke about are the very same ones that stole away the Queen's children, switching them out with changelings on her request."
"Then," Sarah paused, "Doesn't that mean that they do grant wishes? Just not the ones that most would often request."
"Well, I wouldn't know. I was warned not to wish for anything from fairies." The old woman scowled.
Sarah turned towards the window, peeking out at the large, beautiful trees that now seemed so full of possibilities. "Why did you decide to share this with me?" She asked.
"...Because... you looked like the type to be interested." The old woman winked, and without another word, she rose from the chair and slowly walked away, towards where her husband was 'supposed' to be buying her a drink, but Sarah figured he looked like the type that would be easily distracted.
This dismissal was a little odd, but then again, this lady was a little odd. Sarah believed that her sudden departure was not her necessarily being rude, but more part of the lady's quirky mind. Sarah soon realized, after the quirky woman's departure, she had never asked the lady for her name. Not that it really mattered, she would not be staying in Ireland long, anyways.
She shrugged, glad to be alone, and looked back out of the window with a wondering and curious stare. The trees swayed in the wind, their branches caressing the night sky, and Sarah sighed peacefully. The story had been a little odd, and some parts had not made sense to her… Since when did fairies kidnap babies? She had seen, first hand, goblins steal her brother. When she had made her wish, it was not some tiny little tooth fairy that came scurrying throughout her room to take her little brother away. That would have been utterly ridiculous, and she would have laughed out loud.
No, it had been goblins, lots of them.
Sarah shook her head, now realizing that the old woman must have been toying with her. Pulling her leg with some made up fairy story, and was silently laughing her butt off at how serious she had taken it. God, Sarah almost chuckled out loud in embarrassment, she had seemed pretty gullible, hadn't she?
There were no fairies here… Sarah told herself. It was just some old castle that had a fake legend to keep customers in and out.
Cleaning up her plate that was now scraped clean, she stood and prepared herself to walk away. Before she could, however, her eye was caught on something. A twinkling light, shining brightly outside, so very small, but strong. Then others joined it within seconds, so tiny they reminded her of pinpricks.
Sarah cocked her head to the side in wonder but shrugged it off after a second. Looking around she noted that no one else had seemed to notice the lights. It was probably some frequent occurrence; a car or street light. Part of Sarah's mind reminded her that street lights did not twinkle, but she pushed that thought away with a scoff.
Sure, she had seen fairies before, but that did not mean that they were here. Sarah quickly turned her back on the window before she could give the idea much more dissection, and she gathered her plates and walked away without looking back.
She just needed some sleep.
It was not until Sarah was halfway to her room when she realized that perhaps the old woman had meant fae when she said fairy... That would certainly explain the kidnapping of children, and perhaps the story had somehow become twisted throughout the years, causing it to warn others about the wrong things, such as tiny fairies. Which, Sarah relented, was not so bad. If people knew that fae and goblins were the ones that kidnapped children, no doubt they would have tried to wish away their own. Or perhaps she was overthinking this, and the story was a simply made up story about a tiny little fairy, but fae was very closely related to fairies, were they not? Or would they be insulted at this inference?
She could not help but remember that a certain Goblin King was fae.
Thanks so much for reading and as always, please tell me what you think.
I don't know much history and stuff on Ireland - remember that this story is a work of fiction. Most of the characters and historic events are completely made up by me, except for the Labyrinth characters. I do not own the labyrinth.
