So this story actually came to me in a dream, go figure. It's a bit darker than my other long piece, and right now my muse has me by the throat and demands that I keep writing this one.
I've done a little bit of research on this one- Upper Nyack, New York is supposedly where filming took place for the scenes outside of Sarah's home for the movie. The Wildheart river is fictional, however.
Standard disclaimers apply- I own nothing.
'I'm heading out, Sarah- you want to come?'
Sarah looked up from her laptop to her roommate, Erica. 'Where are you going?' Sarah asked the taller woman, curiously. She wasn't sure if she wanted to get out of the house, but she was struck with a particularly difficult case of writer's block, and maybe it would help. 'Oh, I wanted to visit the new Bazaar everyone keeps talking about up at the theatre! They say it's much better than the weekend flea market, with all sorts of exotic goods and cool gadgets.' Erica said as she walked down the hall. 'You need to get out of the house, anyway, Sar. It's not natural!'
Sarah chuckled. Erica was always going on about natural health and beauty, and always fell for the newest fads. It was one of her more amusing qualities. With a sigh, Sarah moved the laptop off of her lap and stood up. 'I do need to get out. I can't think straight right now,' she said. 'That's the spirit! Maybe you'll find some inspiration while we're out,' Erica grinned. Sarah smiled in return, and grabbed her jacket. 'So, where exactly is this place?' Erica held open the door for Sarah, blue eyes flashing. 'Down by the Wildheart bridge, over by the river.'
Sarah stopped, smile gone. 'Wildheart bridge?' She ran her fingers through her long, dark hair.
'Yeah! What's the problem?' Erica stopped behind Sarah.
Sarah turned around and looked at Erica. 'Nothing, really. I've just never really felt comfortable there.' The shadow in her green eyes said it was more than discomfort, but Erica chose not to pursue. 'I'm sure we'll be fine. It's not a big deal, though, if you don't want to go...'
'No, it's fine. I'd love to go.'
Erica grinned, and snaked her arm around Sarah's shoulder. 'Cool. It's not too far from here, and then we can catch dinner on the way back.' Sarah nodded, still not smiling.
Erica and Sarah were a study in differences. Sarah was of moderate height, with piercing green eyes, pale skin and long coal black hair. Erica, however, was tall- over 6 feet- with a blond bob and dark brown eyes. Their eyes were a constant matter of discussion between the two: Erica insisted hers meant she was full of 'it', and constantly expressed longing for Sarah's more exotic coloring. Erica was a dancer with the local ballet corps, a glamourous job that paid little and involved much grief. Sarah was a writer, with several essays and a book published. Sarah once said that they fit together like a Picasso painting- nothing was normal, but everything fit the way it should.
Together, they walked out of their tiny neighborhood, full of little cottages with families and dogs, past the older and more storied neighborhood that Sarah was raised in, along the path through the park that Sarah used to play in as a child, and emerged in bustling downtown Nyack. The cobblestone streets were glistening in the afternoon sunlight, and the quaint little shops were bustling with customers. Sarah recalled a time when this city was dark, and half of the storefronts were empty. The city had begun a campaign to draw tourism back, and recently had seen their labors come to fruition. The market, Sarah supposed, was one of those fruits.
The two women chattered about nothing in particular as they passed the shops and little cafes. The weather had cleared up from the rain that morning, the ballet was looking into doing Swan Lake that spring, Sarah's book had recently sold out from the local bookstore. They reached the end of the row of shops quickly, and hung a left. The cobblestones got a little rougher, and the streetside became a little less tame. The Wildheart river raced ahead of them, with the old bridge passing stately over it. All around the closest side of the bridge, brightly colored tents and lean-to's were erected, and people milled down the rows.
'Huh. Never would have thought to see a bazaar there.' Erica smiled, and dragged Sarah along.
The knot of tension had been growing in Sarah's stomach since they had passed through the park, but when she laid eyes on the bridge it grew into the size of basketball. She allowed herself to be dragged along, though, because she felt she needed to face her fear- that, and Erica had a very strong grip.
'What did you say this place was called, Erica?' Sarah asked.
'Oh, Bonnie called it the Troll Bazaar... part of it's under the bridge, and trolls like to live under bridges, or some nonsense like that,' Erica said with a laugh.
Sarah had to admit that the area was cleaner. It still had a feeling of wildness to it, but no longer was it the haven of bums and crackheads. Maybe it was the close proximity to the tourist strip of downtown, or maybe it was the city's campaign to clean up. Who knew?
The first booth was a glass blower, with delicate little flowers and creatures dotting the table. It was run by a curiously short woman with more wrinkles than skin, and steel gray hair. She looked up at Sarah, grinned toothily, and offered her a fragile sculpture. Sarah blinked, leaned in to look at it, and then took a rapid step back.
It was a peach.
'N-no, thank you, ma'am!' Sarah squeaked. The woman smiled knowingly, and moved on to help another person at her table.
Erica grabbed Sarah and pointed excitedly at the next booth. It was a roasted nut booth- fairly normal, for most fairs. Sarah saw a confectioner's booth and a knick-knack table further down the line, along with a woodcarver and a quilter's circle.
'See, Sarah? Not so bad after all!' Erica said. Sarah forced herself to relax a little, but something about this place set her teeth on edge. 'I bet we could find some silk scarves, or something. I've got a gypsy dance I need to work on, and that would do the trick for the costume,' her friend chattered. Off she went, like a butterfly, from booth to booth with Sarah trailing behind. A purchase here, a quick buy there, and soon they had turned round the edge and walked under the bridge. The sun was going down, but lights began to turn flicker on sporadically, until both the bridge and outside area were comfortably lit. Some booths had even lit torches, and the oily smoke they produced made Sarah pause.
'Oh, Sarah, look! Fruit! We should stop and get some. I didn't know they had a Farmer's Market...' Erica said, and dashed ahead to the farmer's booth. Sarah sighed, and followed her on. It was a larger booth, directly under the center pylon of the bridge. A curved wooden sign stretched across the booth- in delicate, painted script, it declared 'ORCHARD FRUITS'.
An alarm bell went off in Sarah's head, but Erica moved deeper into the booth. 'Erica, wait for me!' Sarah called out, but Erica didn't seem to hear. She stopped to talk to one of the vendors, and then dashed past him.
It was then that Sarah noticed the dark door at the back of the booth. It was placed squarely in the center of the pylon that the booth was situated around, and its presence set Sarah to shaking. Fear made her stumble, and she saw Erica walk inexorably up to the door, a fruit in her hand.
'Erica, NO!' Sarah shouted, and all the vendors turned to look at her. She started running to the door, trying to prevent Erica from opening it, but the strange fruit sellers held her back with long, spindly fingers. She struggled, and watched as her friend reached out and opened the door. A blast of swamp-like air rushed in, and Erica laughed. 'Wait!' Sarah called out, but she was too late. Erica stepped through the door.
The strange vendors fell away, letting Sarah go. She pushed past them, looking around wildly for someone to help- but there was no one. Terror ripped through her as she reached the door and wrapped her fingers around the ancient bronze knob. She took a deep, sobbing breath and pulled the door open. The rush of dank, moist air took Sarah unawares, causing her to stumble forward. She reached out wildly, hoping to catch the door frame or perhaps the wall, but her fingers met only empty air. This surprised her almost as much as the strange, out-of-place scent in the air. She regained her balance quickly, straightened up, and strained her eyes. Where ever she was, it was dark.
'Erica?' Sarah called out plaintively. Her voice echoed, taunting her as it bounced off the darkened walls.
She was alone, in the dark, and she had no sense of where she was. 'Stuck in an oubliette, again,' she sighed.
'Shhh,' a strange voice shushed her from a few feet away. Sarah's breath caught in her throat, and the terror that had subsided for the moment shrieked back into the front of her mind. Soft footsteps slowly sounded near her, and a hand gripped her shoulder.
An echo of a voice sounded in her mind- How did you come to be here, little human? Sarah immediately thought about the bazaar, and the fruit stand. Did you eat their fruit? How much? Sarah shook her head emphatically.
'How did you come to be here, if you didn't eat the Slaver's fruit?' The man said aloud. Sarah threw up her hands in frustration. 'I followed my friend. She came through the dark door...' Sarah said as the man cursed.
An idea struck her suddenly. 'Are we Underground?' Her eyes had finally begun to adjust to the darkness, and she could make out the general shape of the man who had shushed her. He didn't seem like a goblin, and she knew the Goblin King's voice. 'How do you know what the Underground is, little human?' The man said. 'I'm not sure I want to tell you. Where are we?' Sarah huffed, and crossed her arms.
The man hissed, and gripped Sarah's arm tightly. 'This is a life or death situation, human, and if you posses some power that could help me save your friend, I need to know.' Sarah grimaced, but answered him. 'I ran the Labyrinth... a long time ago. The Goblin King gave me a peach. That's all.'
'...Jareth? The Goblin King offered a human, a little slip of a thing like you, an enchanted fruit? That sneaky little...' The man shook his head. 'Fine. Stay close to me, and I'll see if I can't find your friend and send the two of you on your way.' Sarah nodded wordlessly, and stepped a little closer to the man. He nodded, gripped her by the elbow and began to creep forward. In her best imitation, she crept along quietly, doing her best to stay quiet as they moved through the darkness.
After what felt like a few yards, the strange man directed her to the right, and they turned a corner that Sarah had not even seen. While her eyes had adjusted slightly to the lack of light, she still could not see the walls. They quietly moved forward a few more yards, until a single point of light appeared in front of them. The man stopped, gripping Sarah's arm tightly. Without making a sound, he motioned for her to stay put and began to sneak forward. Sarah was amazed at how stealthy the man could be! If she had not been looking right at him, she would have never known he was there. Not a single sound betrayed him.
As the stranger drew closer to the light, Sarah began to distinguish some of his features. He had ghostly pale skin and strange silver hair that reminded her of Christmas tinsel. His festive hair was pulled back loosely into a tail at the back of his head, and delicately pointed ears peeked out. She wished he would turn around, so she could look at his face...
A sound interrupted her thoughts: quiet weeping. Sarah gasped, and then covered her mouth. Erica! She wailed inside, willing her friend to hear.
The silver-haired man dashed forward a few feet, and the tiny pinprick of light flared brightly. For the first time, Sarah could really see where she was, and heartily wished she still couldn't. It looked to be a dungeon, with iron chains hanging from the walls and little heaps of fabric and bones littering the floor. A tiny brazier sat in the middle of the room, and several pathetic figures huddled around it. One of those figures was Erica, her outfit stained and worn with several weeks worth of filth. Sarah saw her friend and cried out in horror. It hadn't been more than ten minutes since she'd come through the darkened room, but Erica looked as if she'd been down here for months.
Sarah rushed forward, and Erica looked at her with hollow eyes. 'Erica! Please, please tell me you're ok!' Sarah said as she knelt in front of her friend. The blond woman ran a grubby hand over her face, smearing dirt everywhere. She looked at Sarah with confusion in her hollow eyes, but did not say anything. 'Why won't she talk?' asked Sarah, concerned. The tinsel-haired man looked up from the young man he was checking over, and sighed. 'They're still deep under the enchantment of the fruit. I need to call in backup.'
Sarah gasped as she looked at the man full-on in the face for the first time. His eyebrows were tilted up, just like... 'You're going to call him, aren't you?' She whimpered. The man raised a delicate, silver eyebrow in concern, and then pulled a crystal from the air. It was an action Sarah had seen before. The terror that had been pushed aside for love of her friend roared back to life as the man began to speak to the crystal in some strangely lilting language. Sarah turned back to Erica quickly. 'Erica, come on. We've got to go! We can't let him keep us... We'll never get free!' She grabbed her friend by the arms and dragged her up from her seat. 'Come on, come on...' Erica didn't make a sound, and Sarah dragged her away from the brazier and the pathetic huddle of victims. The silver-haired man cried out as the two women stumbled away from the brazier, dropping the crystal to the ground. Sarah didn't even stop to look, and set out at a full run in the direction she came from. Erica stumbled along beside her, as if unable to control her actions fully.
They ran and ran, passing slime covered doorways and smaller hallways filled with shadows. Terror fueled Sarah's steps, pushing her onward and away from the man that looked so much like a part of her past that she had wanted to forget. And poor Erica! Perhaps changed for life, all because of a fruit. Sarah prayed feverishly, in between hitched breaths, that she could find the way out.
Erica tripped and fell to her knees, and Sarah skidded to a halt to help her. She grabbed her friend by the arm, preparing to haul her up, when she saw that the blonde woman was pressing her forhead to the ground in a disgustingly servile motion. A rich chuckle filled the air around them with tension and fear, and Sarah dropped Erica's arm. Slowly, Sarah turned around to face the source of the laughter.
The thing stood on two legs, like a human, but the resemblence didn't go much further than that. A rich red fur covered its entire body, and limbs ended in soft paws with elongated digits and menacing claws. Its head was distinctly feline, with a delicate nose and long whiskers. Sarah stared at that mouth full of deadly teeth and shuddered.
'Hello, little pet. Where are you running?' It said in a melodious voice. 'I don't remember bringing you in with the others, but I can smell the fruit's enchantment on you.'
'Help.' Sarah stammered.
'Help? Where on earth are you going to find help?' The thing teased.
'HELP!' Sarah screamed, and listened to the sound echo down the hallway she had just run from. The strange feline creature grimaced, and waved his paw at her. Sarah tried to open her mouth again, but found it impossible. Apparently, the cat-man was a wizard of some sort as well. She fell to her knees, clawing at her mouth in an attempt to open it. Erica was still bowing to the creature, head touching the ground in the ultimate sign of servitude.
'Who is here, little girl-child, that you scream for help? No one is going to rescue you.' The creature said, peering with interest down the hallway. Sarah fell forward on her hands and knees, tears streaming down her face furiously. She tried to fight the enchantment, struggling with all her might, until a delicate and familiar voice sounded in her mind: Quiet.
A crystal rolled past her knee, and Sarah held very still. It erupted like a bomb, and the hallway filled with smoke and shadow, and the curses of the cat-creature.
'Did you know, Altair, I'd been looking for your nest for months? It's so good to have finally found it.' A voice rang out amongst the shadows. It was familiar and different, all at the same time, and sent shudders down Sarah's spine.
'Jareth! Goblin filth, what makes you think you can stop me?' The cat hissed, all melody and smoothness gone from his voice. Sarah couldn't see anything except for smoke and Erica, but she imagined the fur on the creature standing on end.
'I do believe you're in my kingdom, on my land, trading humans as slaves. That's three strikes against you. I think I can do as I please, hmmm?' The voice rang out again, from a different direction.
The silver-haired man's voice sounded in her head again. 'Move forward, 5 paces. Bring your friend.' Sarah nodded and reached back for Erica's hand. Together, they slowly crawled forward through the smoke.
'Slavery is all that humanity is good for, Goblin King!' The cat man yowled. 'Surely you see that!'
'I'm sorry, Altair. I don't.' The Goblin King said, quietly. At the same time, Sarah and Erica broke through the haze and into clear air. Sarah collapsed on her belly, breathing roughly. The silver haired man knelt in front of her, finger to his lips. Sarah nodded, and wiped at the tears still streaming down her face.
A loud crack rang through the air, and then a strange gurgling noise. Sarah gasped- and then realised that she could open her mouth again. She turned to Erica, who had fainted on the ground beside her, and then looked up at the silver-haired man.
'What the hell was that?' Sarah asked.
'That was me, saving you and your friend's life,' The Goblin King said from behind her. Sarah blinked, and spun around to face him. He was still obscured by the smoke, but it was beginning to dissipate. Sarah could see the still form of the cat man, dead at the King's feet, neck at an unusual angle. 'If you had stayed with Nuadu, silly thing, you wouldn't have needed me. Now, I'm afraid I'm going to have to fight off a dozen or more angry felines.'
'She seems to have a rather healthy dose of terror when it comes to you, my king,' the tinsel-haired man said. Sarah levelled a nasty glare at him. 'I am not afraid.'
'Oh?' The Goblin King said, stepping over the body. 'What happened to, 'We can't let him keep us, we'll never get free?' Sarah, come now, I only take what is freely given. If you're really so scared of me that you prefer slavery to my company, I'm hurt.'
The silver-haired man, Nuadu, snorted. 'I prefer the company of just about anyone over yours, my king. Someone always gets hurt.'
'Speaking of injuries, we're going to have to move quick. I can feel the spell fading.' The Goblin King said. He cleared the smoke around him with a gesture, and Sarah saw him clearly for the first time in 10 years. His wild hair was pulled back into a loose tail, like Nuadu's, but somehow the style made him look dangerous. His eyes still held their haunting shadow- as if he were fighting a very dark past, right before your eyes- and his armor was decidedly ostentatious. Black, lacquer, and chrome decorated his body in tightly fitted pieces.
'Jareth, we have to get the humans out of here. We can't wait.' Nuadu said, looking over his shoulder. A strange combination of nearly silent footsteps and hissing was coming from one of the doors- perhaps the strange cat-thing's compatriots had realised something was wrong.
'There are more than the two of us can handle alone. Send the enchanted ones back to the Castle. Sarah, you'll need to stay with us.' The Goblin King said authoritatively.
'What? Why?' Sarah asked. Nuadu said nothing, and dropped a crystal on the ground. As it shattered, Erica was gone. Sarah presumed the others were as well.
'I know you can defend yourself against a few little kitty-cats, Precious.' The Goblin King teased. Sarah huffed.
Suddenly, the door directly behind Sarah and Nuadu crashed open, and several yowling felines erupted into the room. The Goblin King took the first one down rapidly with a pair of silver daggers the length of Sarah's arm. Nuadu pulled out a curved scimitar from nowhere and ran the second cat through, leaving several more standing.
'What have you done with Altair, man-things?' One creature hissed. 'Your leader is dead, for the crime of slave-trading. It's illegal in all 300 kingdoms Underground, you know.' Nuadu said, and lunged forward. The cat was too quick, and his sword met open air. The others scattered, one moving at Sarah almost faster than she could see. Before it had the chance to grab at her, she lashed out with a quick punch to the throat. It choked and fell to its knees, and Sarah kicked it in the chin. As she did, she heard the sharp crack of broken bones, and the cat slumped to one side. It was dead. The other cat-things all stopped, and looked from their dead companion to their enemies.
'Now, little pussycats. You can surrender to the Goblin King's mercy, and be spared, or die at the hands of a human female.' The Goblin King announced in the silence.
Slowly, the remaining cat-creatures looked at each other. The first one fell to its knees, followed by the remaining few. 'Mercy, Goblin King. We will do anything to prevent so shameful a death.' The Goblin King grinned, and Nuadu nodded. 'I'll take care of these things, your majesty. You should see to the enchanted ones.'
Sarah stared down at the thing she had killed. 'I didn't think I could do that. They never said that kick could kill...' A shudder ran through her body, and she turned away. Nuadu merely shrugged, and began to bind the living cat-men with silver rope.
'Come now, Sarah. I think your friend might need your help.' The Goblin King said, walking up to her.
'Oh, no. I need promise of safe passage, for me and my friend.' Sarah said, stepping back. 'I need to know that we can go home again.'
'Sarah, I promise that I will protect you to the best of my ability,' he said. 'However, part of the nature of the fruit your friend ate was a sort of binding to this land. I may not be able to send her home.'
'What do you mean? Why not?' Sarah asked, warily.
'Do you really want to discuss this here? I've made all the promise you're going to get, little minx. Accept it and be grateful!' The Goblin King said angrily. His voice echoed down the hallway fiercely, making Sarah wince. 'Fine, Goblin King. I accept your promise. Let's go.'
Bonus points if you can guess where the name of the fruit stall came from.