Hey, long time, no see. My first upload this year, but certainly not my last.
Enjoy.
Disclaimer: I do not own Labyrinth.
Crush - A brief but intense infatuation for someone, esp. someone unattainable or inappropriate
She stared at him whilst the woman beside him vowed to love and honour him, in sickness and in health, till death do they part. His blonde hair, neatly combed, toppled upon his head, and his mouth in an upwards direction, smiling at the woman beside him. His hands gently held hers, so soft, they must feel. His blue eyes never looked anywhere, but hers.
Fifteen-year-old Sarah Williams looked down from this intimate scene and stared at her feet. The look of love he gave the woman was intensifying, it made Sarah's breathing erratic, and she had no choice, but to look away.
"Cut!" yelled the director from her left. The man and woman from the front of the room freed each other's hands and turned to the director. "That was perfect. Linda, such emotion, I love it."
Linda, the woman, nodded with a smile. "Thanks, Terry."
"All right, lunch time everyone," Terry announced, now addressing the cast. "Remember, opening nights in three days."
Linda walked off stage and then down to Sarah, her co-star following behind her.
"You were great," Sarah told her mother. Jeremy, her mother's co-star, wrapped an arm Linda's waist. Sarah could feel her face heat up the slightest bit.
Linda was set to appear in a new stage production, Lovers Incarnated, written and directed by Terry Cornell, with her on-screen and off-screen partner, Jeremy. The play, from what Sarah could gather, was about a couple who, during their wedding, are murdered, and many years later, in another life, are reunited. Linda and Jeremy were cast as the lead roles, Sybil and Theodore.
"I absolutely agree, Sarah," Jeremy's English accented voice filled Sarah's ears.
In response, Sarah smiled.
"Let's go grab some coffee, shall we?" Linda asked.
Sarah nodded. Only with her mother she drank coffee. Her father disapproved of such high levels of caffeine entering her system, which was heightened even more by encouragement, in recent months, by her step-mother who became more maternal towards Sarah. She blamed her half-brother, Toby.
New York City was beautiful. Having been born and raised in the suburbs, Sarah had only been in the city very few times, and each time, the city never failed to amaze her. She could picture herself, clear as day, older – perhaps in her mid-twenties, in a stylish outfit as she walked the streets of Manhattan with a coffee in hand.
Arriving at The Ribbon Café, a small and quaint café (and so unique that with every purchase you received a ribbon), Sarah followed her mother to a table, while Jeremy placed their order. While Linda looked through the menu, Sarah's eyes had glanced towards Jeremy, who was on his way to their table. She gave him a smile as he sat across from her, next to her mother.
"I don't know why you bother reading the menu if you know it all by-heart," Jeremy said, with a slight smirk.
Linda said nothing to her partner as she gave him a smirk back and continued to peruse the menu.
"So, Sarah, dear, have you had any luck of finding a summer job?" Jeremy asked.
Sarah knitted her hands together. "No, not really. You'd think there would be a lot of openings, but there just aren't any," she sighed dejectedly. "I think it might be too late into summer to find one."
"No openings at the local theatre?" Linda asked her daughter.
A waiter with a tray with drinks arrived at their table.
"One espresso, one black coffee, and one mocha float," the waiter announced as he placed each drink on the table, and a straw next to Sarah's mocha.
"Thank you," Sarah said, quietly to the waiter. "No, Mom. There are absolutely no openings at the theatre," she replied, sticking a thick, white straw through the top of her drink.
"Well, I'm sure you'll find something, even if it's a day's work," Jeremy reassured. "Have I ever told you about my first job?" he asked before taking a slow sip from his black coffee.
Linda chuckled, Sarah, however, shook her head.
"Well, back in London in the late fifties to early sixties," he leaned forward on the table. "I was about your age, and I was desperate for money, I would do anything if it was available." He paused for a short chuckle. "I remembered in the back of a fruit shop there was a flyer for a job, a Forest Fire Lookout, I believe it was," he continued, grinning like a little boy. Linda was giggling beside him.
Sarah laughed. "What happened?"
"I was desperate for money, and it paid a great deal of it, so I took the job. On the weekends, I would travel twenty minutes to the nearest forest, sit on a tree log and watch for signs of a fire," he recalled, leaning back in his chair. "It's safe to say that there were no fires in those two weekends I was on the job," he paused to chuckle and shook his head. "London has the most uncontrollable weather; it rained on both of those weekends. It was the best money, I ever earned."
Sarah laughed along with her mother and Jeremy.
As the laugher died down a few moments later, a soft melody drifted through the café. The sound of a violin and light chimes filled the café.
"Care for a dance, my darling?" Jeremy whispered to Linda. Sarah noticed her mother's shiver and smile. She watched them move up from the table and hold each other the traditional dance hold. Her eyes followed them as they made their way around the tables and chairs of the Café, so poised that they didn't even make contact with the furniture.
Sarah sighed; her back softly hit the back of her chair. Her eyes moved from the couple to Jeremy's back. His back was straight, he was tall as day, she believed. They turned and Sarah could now see his face. Jeremy was gazing at her mother the way he did while rehearsing for the play.
Sighing again, Sarah suddenly wished she was in his arms instead of her mother. She would never admit it to anyone, but Sarah was crushing on her mother's boyfriend. It was wrong; she knew that. Inappropriate? Yes, but there was nothing wrong about fantasising; every girl does it at some point, whether they crush on their teacher, or a guy in a higher grade. She hadn't told a soul, not even her favourite companion, Merlin, her sheep dog.
Their dance ended a little too quickly for Sarah's taste.
"Do you always break out in dance as soon as you hear music?" Sarah asked with a small laugh as they made their way back to the table, hand-in-hand.
Linda laughed. "Only sometimes," she answered.
Nightfall came like wildfire, and Sarah now found herself in front of her Victorian-style home. Her father had picked her up from the train station earlier in the evening.
"Irene made you dinner, but she'll understand if you've already eaten," her father, Robert told her as he opened the front door.
She nodded and rolled her eyes, unknown to her father.
Sarah walked through the door; there she was, with Toby in her arms, sitting on the couch.
"Sarah," she greeted with a smile – a fake smile, Sarah bitterly thought. "How was your visit with your mother? I made you dinner, it will need a little heating, but if you've already—"
"Thanks, Irene," Sarah interrupted. "I'll eat it," she declared, firmly, and then left the room.
Two hours later, Sarah had just stepped out of the bathroom, twirling her damp hair through her fingers when she heard her brother cry. Rolling her eyes, she retreated to her bed and picked up a small, red leather bound book from her bedside table, The Labyrinth after turning on her reading lamp. A border of black surrounded the front cover of the book, and the title was in a gold colour that seemed to be somewhat faded.
Sarah removed her red ribbon bookmark to the side and began to read. Her eyes danced with fascination as she read each word. Her mouth moved with her eyes as she quietly read.
"For my will is as strong as yours," she whispered. "And my kingdom as great."
"Precious, please do not do this," the Goblin King begged. "I only want what's best for you; come, be my queen, rid of your wicked stepmother."
The Goblin King in The Labyrinth had no name or physical description of any sort, not even the slightest indication of how tall he could be. However, this only added to the mystery of the character.
She gazed at him. Hearing her dreams aloud almost made her reconsider.
She stepped backward with a frown. "What of my family? What will my father think when he sees his daughter not in her bed, safe and sound?"
The Goblin King shook his head. "That, I do not know, precious. I do know that your dreams will come true if you choose to stay with me," he whispered, holding out a crystal ball to her.
Sarah took a deep breath in. She had always pictured herself in this very portion of the book. She wanted to run into his arms, to escape the reality of her wicked step-mother and her forever screaming brother, and live her dreams. Sarah felt like this book had been written for her and about her as the main character had a life exactly like her own.
She looked down and bit her lip. Her dreams were literally one foot in front of her, but the thought of her father shouting in agony, screaming out to the world where his daughter might be played through her mind.
"He loves you, though," Sarah told the fictional character.
She eventually lifted her head to look at his calm, handsome face. "I'm sorry, but I can't. My father would be so worried to find not one, but two of his children missing."
She paused and watched him step closer, lowering the crystal in his hand.
"My precious, please, reconsider. Let me love you the way you should be," the Goblin King tried.
A tear rolled down her face. "I'm so sorry," she choked. She took a deep breath in and spoke the words that would potentially break her heart: "You have no power over me."
Eleven chimes of the clock from down stairs caused Sarah to look up from her book. Not realising the time nor how tired she was, Sarah gently but swiftly positioned her ribbon bookmark back into her book and then set it on the bed-side table. Then with a slight press of a button, she turned off her lamp and proceeded to close her eyes, falling into a deep sleep.
She found him between two women, their barely covered chests up against his body, but he only looked at her. He moved forward, to her, not even glancing back at the women he had left. He gracefully pulled her into a dance. Slowly, they drifted along the floor of the ballroom.
He looked so very handsome tonight. His long, blonde hair cascaded around his face and softly rested on his shoulder. She gazed into his eyes, hoping to find his love for her in the sea of blue. His appearance reminded her of someone she knew; she couldn't quite put a finger to it.
"Sarah, have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?" he asked her softly, pulling her from her thoughts. His English accented voice did wonders to her stomach.
She blushed, feeling her cheeks heat up. "I believe you have not," she replied. "Thank you, Jareth," she added with a smile.
Even his name, Jareth, was so close to someone else's name, she can taste it on the tip of her tongue.
"A beautiful queen," he proudly announced and pulled her closer. "It fits you, Sarah, dear, my precious."
A small, uncertain laugh came from Sarah. "I don't know about that."
"All this land, from the centre of the Labyrinth and beyond can be yours," he coaxed gently into her ear. "We can rule the lands, you and I, King and Queen of the Goblins."
She smiled against his cheek. He knew her like no one else, he knew her dreams.
"That would be amazing," she sighed and pulled back to see his face.
Jareth's gloved hand softly circled her cheek, his thump caressing her skin. "Dreams do come true, Sarah; I can make it happen."
She closed her eyes, embracing the touch of him. "What do you know of my other dreams?"
The motion of his thumb stopped which caused Sarah to gaze up at him.
"I know you dream of wanting to be whisked away from tiring days of housework, your wicked step-mother," he paused. He leaned forward; he was so close that she could distinctly see specks of glitter across his lips. "You dream of an adult world, where you can do what you want when it pleases you… you dream of a kiss, my precious," he whispered.
Swallowing a lump that appeared at the base of her throat, Sarah had closed her eyes, leaned forward ever so slightly, and awaited the much anticipated kiss she had dreamed of for so long.
Sarah's eyes flung open at the sound of a loud wail. She found herself staring at the canopy of her bed, not into the eyes of Jareth, the man of her dreams.
Breathing a heavy sigh, she rolled over onto her side and closed her eyes, not noticing the beautiful white owl, sitting on a branch just outside her bedroom.
AN: Stay tuned for another fic in the coming weeks, and then another in December :)
Beta: Celecia Leigh