A/N: This story has gone through many evolutions in my head since high school and I think it is finally ready to put it to paper, so to speak. Of course the characters from the Labyrinth are not mine (Jareth, Sarah, etc.) but anyone else making their presence known has been born in my imagination. It will be updated as I find time, hopefully fairly frequently. That said, enjoy!
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An icy breeze stirred the curtains hanging in an open window, gently wafting the brown bangs of the young girl who lay sleeping on the bed inside. No older than six, her child-like mind was too far gone in dreams of bright colors and magical creatures to wake so easily. It had been hard enough for her to fall asleep in the first place- the fever raging inside her kept her in constant misery and the cold night air simply eased the burn of her skin. Because of these things she didn't so much as stir as the wind picked up its pace and blew her curtains fully into the room, along with a few snowflakes. When the shadow of a man slowly emerged across her small form on the bed, the girl did no more than stir slightly in her sleep. A faint amount of glitter fluttered on the child's pale cheek and a gloved hand reached out to wipe it off as a woman sat up in her bed, screaming.
Sarah Williams' heart pounded in her chest as she threw the heavy covers back and slid out of bed, not even bothering to put on her slippers. She ran across the cold, wooden floor and across the room to her opened door. Walking as gently as she could the brief distance down the hallway, she stopped outside the door nearest her own, momentarily paralyzed and unable to muster the courage to open it. Yet it had only been a dream, hadn't it? Surely there was nothing to fear, she rationalized to herself. Her thin hand grasped the brass doorknob and turned it till the door gave way. She pushed it open and peered inside, her heart pounding harder than ever and terrified of what she might or might not see.
There on the bed lay her soundly sleeping daughter, the window still shut and locked securely. No sign of glitter or the coming snowstorm anywhere in the room calmed her pounding heart and Sarah exhaled deeply in relief. Lately these dreams had been occurring more and more often, and they were beginning to run their toll on her. Her hours of sleep had dwindled from normal to little more than four or five hours a night and when she did sleep, she was plagued by the same nightmares over and over.
Thankfully Rhiannon seemed completely unaware of any problems and, apart from the seemingly endless bouts of illness, she was as happy as ever. Her conscience soothed from the knowledge of her daughter's safety, Sarah left and returned slowly back to her bedroom. It suddenly struck her just how cold it was in the house. She had completely forgotten that the heat had been turned off by the landlord that month. She hadn't been able to pay the rent again since all her money had gone to taking Rhiannon to the hospital, so instead the both of them had been forced to dress in layers. Yet for comfort reasons she usually wore nothing but a baggy sweater to bed and as she neared her own door, her bare feet and legs were hit with a sudden draft of cold air. She paused and looked to the end of the hallway where the window was wide open and being blown into the wall by the intensifying wind.
Sarah froze, staring at it. She remembered perfectly well that she had locked it before bed with all the others, and Rhiannon could not open the child locks. Another breeze hit her like a brick, sending her long brown hair flying behind her. The chill that went down her spine reawakened her limbs and she hurried forward, pulling it shut and locking it. Rubbing her arms briskly to get their circulation going again, her eyes roamed the tree line outside and for a brief moment, time came to a standstill.
For that one moment she could have sworn she saw the shape of a white bird flying across the night sky, barely hidden by the snowfall. The sight of any white bird had riled her emotions since she was a teenager, but she thought she should had overcome it by then. Her mouth moved but no sound come out and when she blinked again, the bird was gone. Chalking it up to the appearances in her nightmares and the general lack of sleep, Sarah forced herself to shrug it off and return to her bedroom.
As quickly as she could she hurried to the other side of her bed and pulled some sweat pants and socks from her dresser. She crawled into them, grateful to shield her goosebump-stricken skin from the chilled air of the house. Returning to the warmth of her bed, she snuggled under the covers and gazed blankly out of her window, watching as the thickening flecks of snow spiraled silently downwards.
She knew that it was just her mind playing tricks on her and yet...there was still a part of her- that small remnant of her adolescent self- that remained frightened. The dreams, the sight of the bird, none of it should have bothered her. After all, dreams were just dreams and the bird could have been anything. A dove, perhaps. For years she had held the belief that her therapy sessions had cured her of a very overactive imagination, and yet here she was fretting over a couple of very coincidental events. Most likely it was all due to lack of sleep, but still she felt the need for reassurance. The next day, she resolved, she would go see her therapist and figure out why she was apparently relapsing into madness.
Comforted in that thought Sarah drifted back into sleep, feeling very much older than the twenty four years that she was. Having fallen into a deep, dreamless sleep, she was completely unaware of the white owl that had just landed on the branch outside her daughter's window. There it sat unmoving all through the night, watching silently.
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Morning seemed to come all too quickly the next day and Sarah hit the snooze button on her alarm at least twice, groaning when she finally forced herself out of her soft, warm bed. Stretching her arms skyward, the early morning sunlight bathed her face in light and filled her with optimism. A fresh blanket of snow was strewn across the lawn and trees, and a few leftover flakes still fell occasionally from the sky. Whatever had happened last night it was not important enough to stress herself with. Humming softly to herself, Sarah slid into her slippers and padded across the hall and into the bathroom. She brushed her teeth and then took a quick shower, thoroughly grateful that they still had hot water.
Emerging some ten minutes later with a towel wrapped around her head, Sarah's mood was brightened even further by the sight of her daughter fixing breakfast in the kitchen.
She was a beautiful girl, with long, dark brown hair like her mother's and soft blue eyes that could be round as saucers when surprised or scared. Though rather thinner than Sarah would have liked, she never seemed to gain any weight no matter what she ate. Sarah had had to accept long ago that it wasn't neglect on her part but simply her daughter's biology that kept her looking small for her age. Sometimes she wondered if it was something that came from her father, but the idea would promptly fade from her mind as soon as it had come. She despised that man and wouldn't give him the pleasure of dwelling on him for anything.
Seeing her mother come in, Rhiannon smiled brightly and smeared butter on slightly burnt toast.
"G'morning, mom. I made breakfast today!"
"I see that. It looks absolutely delicious Anna, thank you." Sarah sat down at the counter and pulled one of the plates towards her, every bit as impressed as she let on. She had always known her daughter to be intelligent for her age, but a girl not even six making almost perfect bacon and toast? Sure the bacon was microwaveable but still she smiled in pride. "What happened to being sick, though?"
"I don't know, I just woke up this morning feeling better. Oh! Mom, it was so awesome, I opened my eyes this morning and guess what I saw?"
Sarah took a large bite of the toast and bacon, allowing a noncommittal "Mmm?" to escape her mouth as she expected a comment on herself being in Rhiannon's room that morning.
"A white owl. It was just sitting there outside my window and when I saw it it flew away but mom it was so pretty! For a second I thought it was just snow on the tree, it was so white."
At that moment a few things happened at the same time. Sarah choked on her food and beat her chest in an attempt to breathe, a loud knock on the front door sounded through the house, and Rhiannon dropped one of the glasses on the ground in shock and stepped on a piece, then cried out in pain.
Sarah jumped up and yelled "One minute!" over her shoulder, then picked up Rhiannon and set her on the counter, kissing her forehead and cheek. "It's okay Rhiannon, I'm just getting the door. Don't get down." She ran across the kitchen and to the front door (which wasn't a very far run as the house was a rather small one) and squinted into the peephole. Through it an eye was squinting back at her and Sarah laughed, unlocking the door.
"Come on in, Abby."
The door opened and a young woman walked in, her red hair sprinkled in snowflakes and her teeth chattering from the December cold. "Wh-what on earth was all the n-noise? And my God it's colder in here that outside!"
"Sorry Abby, Rhiannon dropped a glass and cut herself." Sarah went back into the kitchen and kissed her whimpering daughter on the forehead. "Let me get some tweezers."
Hurrying into the bathroom, Sarah heard Rhiannon squeal "Aunt Abby!", and the sound of over exaggerated kissing noises. She smiled to herself and looked up into the mirror, sighing. There were dark rings under her eyes and her face was looking paler than normal. "Maybe I should get some sleeping pills," she mused sarcastically to herself as she rummaged the medicine cabinet. Finally finding the tweezers hidden behind the band-aids which she also grabbed, she went back to the kitchen and sat in front of Rhiannon, setting her small foot onto her lap.
"Aunt Abby's going to stay with you today while I go to work, Rhiannon."
Rhiannon's face darkened. It was amazing how daunting she looked for a child, a notion that when it happened always left both women momentarily surprised. Then just as quickly as the hard look came, her young age took over and she crossed her arms, pouting. "Why do you have to work so much?"
Sarah sighed and set to work getting the tiny glass shard out of her daughter's foot. "You know we've been struggling to pay our bills, Rhiannon. I have to work on weekends in order for us to afford this house."
"But mom, why did we have to move? Uncle Toby could have watched me when you worked on weekends, or grandma-"
"Rhiannon, enough."
The warning in her mother's voice was indeed enough to quiet her and Rhiannon went silent but remained pouty. She stubbornly refused to so much as whimper when Sarah grasped the shard and pulled it out if her foot, instead chewing hard on her bottom lip. Once she had cleaned and bandaged the cut, Sarah stood up and kissed her daughter's cheek.
"I have to go soon. You and Aunt Abby can play games or go for a walk or whatever you wish, but please know that I don't want to leave you on weekends. It just has to happen for the time being, okay? It's part of growing up."
Rhiannon sat perfectly still, her eyes on the floor. She didn't answer her mother and instead seemed quite interested in just how many tiles made up the kitchen surface. Sarah turned and hurried to her bedroom, not allowing herself the comfort of guilt. One day Rhiannon would understand how hard life had become for them but, until then, Sarah had to steel her heart against her daughter's sadness. Reaching in to her closet, Sarah pulled out the first pieces of cloth her hands reached- that day she didn't much care what she looked like.
When she left her room and walked down the small hallway into the living room that conjoined the kitchen, she saw Rhiannon still sitting where she had been on the counter. Abby was sweeping up the glass in silence, apparently not sure what to do about the awkwardness of the situation. When she looked up and saw Sarah's odd clothing selection, she smirked.
"Nice. Trying to impress someone at work, are we?"
Rolling her eyes, Sarah stopped in the kitchen and poured herself some coffee into a travel mug, then turned and gazed steadily at her daughter, who was avoiding her eyes.
"Be good, I'll be home as soon as I can."
"'Kay."
She reached over and kissed Rhiannon on the forehead again, then pulled on the heavy coat that was draped over one of the chairs in the kitchen. Picking up her mug and purse, she walked to the front door when she heard the plop, plop of feet running on a cold surface and then felt a pair of arms circling her waist, a face being buried into her back.
"I love you, mom," came Rhiannon's muffled voice from behind her.
Sarah smiled and turned around to hug her daughter as she opened the front door, the freezing morning air rushing in behind her. "I love you too, sweetie. More than anything in the world."
The smile that spread on Rhiannon's face made Sarah's spirits lift. The snow seemed less harsh and cold and more beautiful and pure, and the sun rays poking through the white-covered trees gave her a feeling of hope. As she descended the stairs on the front porch and searched her pockets for the keys to the car, she heard a delighted yell from behind her.
"Look mom, look! Isn't it pretty?"
The chaos of the night prior and morning had been enough to slow her reflexes and, for a second Sarah simply gazed at her daughter, nonplussed. Then, comprehension dawning, she slowly moved her eyes to follow where Rhiannon's finger was pointing. With a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach she saw the white bird from before- an owl, she now realized- soaring over the treetops and away from the house. Far from sharing in her daughter's delight, the snow suddenly became cold and unforgiving once more and the sun seemed to be drowning in a world of white. Sarah ran as quickly as she could in high heels to her car and sped out of the driveway. She wasn't headed for work just yet, but for a stop to her old therapist's office back home.