Author's Note: Just a quickie story. I'm dedicating this to Kim the Manipulative Little Monster, one of my original Listian friends. I will forever love The Labyrinth it is a film that means a lot to me; it was there for me in a time in my life when I needed a bit of fantasy to escape to. This story is about that place it holds for me, and for others. I hope you enjoy it. As always, feedback is appreciated.
The Dreamer, The Dream
He needed her, his dreamer.
Looking down from the branches he saw her, through her bedroom window. Her hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail and she was slumped in the chair by her computer, the blue glow from the screen replacing any semblance of a healthy pallor on her cheeks.
Her eyes, which he first saw as full of dreams and possibilities were glazed and drooping.
His dreamer was dreamless, her sleep shattered, her life pressing upon her and and weighing her down.
At first she had tried to sleep, fighting with her pillows and blankets as if they were the demons that haunted her daily life. As if they were the money issues and the sick parents. Each punch into a feathered pillow was as futile as her struggle to get a handle on her reality.
He needed her, his dreamer.
And yet, her dreams were being held off- being crushed and blockaded.
She stood and didn't even bother stretching, separating herself briefly from whatever was temporarily blocking the darkness. The blue glow of the screen shielding her in some small way from the terrors of the world. It illuminated but it did not create a light within her, it didn't stir her mind and dreams as he needed. She shuffled out of the room, an empty glass in hand.
He needed her, his dreamer.
He swooped in, taking advantage of her momentary break. A gloved finger pressed the off button, the blue glow protested, it lingered the screen still giving off a residual fight, a slight hum coming from it. He gave it a momentary glance of annoyance.
Her eyes only showed a slight surprise at his appearance. After all, they had known each other quite well, once upon a time. Rather her eyes showed more sadness. He was just one other thing that her life had allowed to slip away. He however, was not one to let things just slip. Indeed, he was not one to just slip by.
He took the glass gently from her fingers and placed it on the desk. He draped a comforting arm around her shoulders and for a moment pressed her head to his chest. Her eyes closed and he matched his breathing to hers and then slowed his down. She unconsciously followed suit, her breathing which had had the same ragged quality to it that her movements had, slowed to an even, steady tempo. After several moments of standing like that he guided her to the bed.
He sat down on the edge with her, still his arm draped around her, loosely. He had been silent this whole while, his mismatched eyes and careful gestures doing all the speaking. He began to hum, ever so quietly, one of his songs, the one that had lead her to him in the first place.
Lost and lonely, that's Underground
The words began to slip out behind the melody, soft and low, his voice embracing her as his arm was. It was a reassurance. No dream ever fully left its dreamer. No dreamer was ever dreamless.
He needed her, his dreamer.
Her eyes were shut and the forefinger and thumb of his hand gently brushed a few stray tendrils of hair by her ear. He continued to sing in his soft voice.
A land serene, a crystal moon.
Her breathing slowed further, her eyelids heavier and her body now relaxed fully into his. He stopped singing, humming only after another few moments he stopped completely. Gently he moved her so she was laying on the bed, one hand tucked under her cheek, the other splayed out on the mattress beside her. He pulled a light blanket over her and brushed aside her bangs. He bent so his own hair feathered lightly against her skin and pressed one light kiss to her temple. His intentions and concern clearly evident.
Her dreams crept into the room on tippy toes, their lightly belled feet clearing a way through cobwebs and dust, the path to her bed had not been tread in some while and yet, they still knew the way.
Her lips curved upward, just ever so slightly, as the first of her dreams whispered impishly in her ear.
It was no solution to her earthly troubles but it was a respite, something to give her hope.
He needed her, his dreamer.
She needed him, her dream.