Part tribute, part reminder. The King is dead. Long live the King.
Goblin King property of Henson and Bowie. Long may they live in our memories.
I wasn't surprised when I felt him that night. The news of his source, the man that gave life and breath to the Goblin King, who took the lines of the puppet master and made Jareth real, passing beyond the Veil sent shockwaves and floods through the fandom. Even I, a Reluctant Writer, felt the sting of loss. I read the tributes, admired the fan art and nodded at the outpouring of grief and sentiment. It was as it should be when a Great One dies.
"But I'm not dead!" I smiled at the petulant protest whispering in my head.
"Of course you're not!" I replied, settling in with my laptop on my bed. The kiddos were still up, the elder understanding the sting I felt. "David Bowie is dead. Blessed Be to his family and may his soul find rest in the Summerlands. It's how I want to go. Peacefully, with my family to sing me away."
"That won't be happening anytime soon."
"Good! My job is not done here. Not for my life and not for my Muse." I grinned at the empty space beside me. "How are you feeling?"
"It is...very strange. So many ties have been severed. It's as if hundreds of hearts have broken."
"Well, they have. But give them time, Majesty. They must mourn the man before they can again embrace the Muse."
"I fear many will not return to me."
"Then we shall do what we can until the next generation discovers you." I mimed a gentle bop on an invisible shoulder. "That which is remembered, lives. David Bowie will live on in his music and his family. You, Goblin King, will live on in your movie and in the fans' words and drawings. Even with me."
"Really? You'll finally give me my passionate romance and sex scenes?"
"No. Sex. Scenes."
"But passionate romance. As a tribute? Yes?"
"Majesty, THIS is the tribute." I sighed and looked into my computer. There, on the internet, hundreds of Labyrinth and Bowie fans were grieving. Many had come forward to say they could no longer write in the fandom, the pain was too great. I understood. My husband had died five years ago, I knew what it felt like to have your world turned upside down and torn apart. But I couldn't, wouldn't let the Goblin King go. We understood each other. His loss, my loss, our grief was...similar. So I made room in my shattered heart for a fairy tale, a Muse I had already danced with. Together, we would surivive and eventually, live.
My fellow writers, I do understand your pain. It hurts like hell and it won't stop anytime soon. All I ask is that you find room in your shattered hearts for the Goblin King. He is more then the actor and musician and puppet master that created him. Our faith, our love and our stories and artwork have made him the small god he is today. Jareth did NOT die with Bowie. As Jetredgirl said, the Goblin King has many, many stories left and it's up to us to keep him alive. With his Champion, with Toby, even with ourselves in Mary Sues and Original Characters.
Cry, my comrades. Cry and rage and scream. It's Not Fair. Death rarely is. My hope, my wish, is that when the time comes, you'll be able to come back to the Underground. It's still beautiful here.
I wish the goblins will remind all of us; that which is remembered lives. The King is dead. Long live the King!
Blessed Be,
bloodsong