The Rightful Heir
Sarah Kingston lay in her bed, staring up at the ceiling. A cool autumn breeze blew through the open window, and she pulled the blanket up around her neck. The headlights of a car illuminated the room for a brief moment as it drove by, rattling the loose pebbles and fallen leaves on the road. She rolled over and stole a glance at the alarm clock beside her bed.
11:45.
Damn.
She sat up with a groan, rubbing her temples with her fingertips. She had to get some sleep. In less than twelve hours, her house would be full of people, mostly hyperactive teenagers, dancing to loud music and hopped up on sugar. It wasn't the most attractive thought, but after all, it wasn't everyday one's only daughter turned sixteen. Laurel had begged for this party for months, and though Sarah would have much preferred a quite, intimate get together, apparently these days sixteenth birthdays required either expensive, elaborate parties, or expensive, elaborate gifts. Her daughter was quite popular at school, just the opposite of herself at that age. Perhaps that was where the disconnect was. Laurel had just reached a point where Sarah could no longer relate to her own daughter.
Laurel was the type that everything always seemed to go right for. She made friends easily, she was good in school, and she had the uncanny knack to get everything she wanted with little effort. It led to her being a bit spoiled, but Sarah knew that she was good-natured, and she had very little issues with her behavior. Of course, she could be careless about things she was disinterested in, such as her after school shifts in the bookstore, and she could have a rather nasty temper, but all in all, Laurel was a good kid, and Sarah loved her dearly.
Even dearly enough to invite a hundred people into her house on a Saturday afternoon.
A loud screech outside her window snapped Sarah out of her thoughts with a start. She crawled out of bed, and peered outside, trying to locate the sound. The harvest moon cast a golden glow across her yard, and the breeze was rippling through the large willow trees in the front yard. She could not see anything out of the ordinary, but did notice a branch in the willow swaying slightly, as though something had just landed on top of it.
"Must have been an owl," she muttered to herself, turning back towards her bed. Her clock now read 11:56, and she heaved a heavy sigh. She desperately needed to unwind. She grabbed her bathrobe that was hanging on the back of her vanity chair, and quietly snuck out of her room into the bathroom. She turned the shower on, and let the room fill up with steam as she grabbed a towel from the closet, and slipped off her nightgown.
She stood in the shower for a few minutes, just letting the warm water wash over her body. Her mother had taught her this trick when she was a kid, to let the warm water soothe her tight muscles, and the hot, humid air lull her into a relaxed state. After a while, she began to feel more tired, and shut the shower off. She dried off quickly, and slid her underwear and nightgown back on to her damp skin. She put on her bathrobe, and tied it firmly around herself. Taking one final deep breath, she opened the door, and shut off the bathroom light before heading back into her bedroom.
She looked at her bed for a moment, contemplating crawling into it as she was, but she decided against it. If she went to bed without combing her hair, it would dry in a tangle, and she knew it would look messy and unkempt tomorrow. She wasn't going to have all those people seeing her looking like that. She flipped the lamp on her bedside table, and sat down at her vanity. She picked up a comb, and started running through her long dark hair. A breeze blew through the window, and she pulled her robe tighter around herself. There was another noise outside her window, a soft rustling. There was a strange feeling in the air, almost electric, and the hair on her arms began to rise.
"Well now, no need to get all gussied up on my account," a voice drawled behind her. She jumped in her seat, and looked up to see someone standing in front of her window. Her blood ran cold as she turned around to face him, an all too familiar figure. Tall and thin, his long blonde hair blowing gently in the wind, his black cloak billowing behind him. A figure that had haunted the darkest corners of her nightmares for the past twenty-five years.
The Goblin King.
"You…" she gasped, her mouth going dry. "What the hell are you doing here?"
"Really now, Sarah, is that anyway to greet an old friend?" he said with a smirk, slowly making his way into the room.
"You… are not my friend…" she sputtered, grasping the back of her chair tightly.
"No? You're not still angry about that little incident in my kingdom all those years ago?"
"You mean when you kidnapped my brother? Or when you tricked me into eating a poisoned peach?" she snapped, getting to her feet. "Or did you mean when you stole an hour of time from me, and then turned the cleaners on me and Hoggle?"
"All things that you asked of me, silly girl," he sneered. "I see you haven't changed a bit. Still taking everything for granted. And after I came all this way…"
"Shut up! What do you want from me?" she demanded.
"And still selfish as ever, thinking everything is all about you," he was standing by her nightstand, inspecting the photos of her family that sat there.
"No, my interests have… shifted, shall we say," he said, reaching down to pick up a frame. "Such a lovely daughter you have…"
You stay away from my daughter," Sarah snarled, lunging towards him. She crashed into her nightstand, and whirled around to see him, now standing beside her dresser, inspecting the picture in his hand with mild curiosity.
"Strange though, she doesn't look a thing like you," he mused, tapping a finger on his lip thoughtfully. "Or your husband for that matter."
"Did you hear what I said? Stay away from her!"
"A mother with dark hair and green eyes, a father with dark hair and dark eyes, and yet a child with blonde hair and blue eyes. How did you manage that, precious? Scorned lover, perhaps?"
He reappeared beside the bedroom door as Sarah dove for him again, still looking over the photograph.
"I said, leave her alone!" Sarah cried, and he chuckled for a moment.
"Of course, her appearance isn't the most interesting thing about dear little Laurel, is it, precious?"
"What are you on about?" She snapped, moving slowly towards him. Perhaps she could catch him off guard before he moved again…
"Come now, Sarah, you can't tell me you haven't noticed," he said, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
"Noticed what? What do you mean?"
"Your daughter holds a great deal of magical potential, Sarah."
"I… I don't know what you…"
"Don't play dumb with me, Sarah," he said sharply, setting the picture down on her vanity. "I know you've noticed. You must have. How young Laurel manages to get everything she desires? How she never seems to be hurt, no matter what happens to her? How neither you nor that mortal husband of yours could deny her anything?"
"How do you possibly…" she stammered, staring at him in shock, before an accusatory look of anger crossed her features. "You've been watching us!"
"Naturally. You didn't think I wouldn't want to keep tabs on an old friend, did you, Sarah?"
"I told you, we're not friends, Goblin King. And how dare you so much as look at my daughter?"
He suddenly appeared in front of her, causing her to stumble backwards into the wall. He grinned down at her as she glared up at him. She had grown since she had last seen him, and he didn't seem to tower over her any longer, the way he had when she was a teenager. She was grateful for that, at least.
"Come, come, come, Sarah. Don't defy me," he said in a gentle tone. "You know deep in your heart that you can't help Laurel any longer. She needs to learn to control her powers, or she could destroy every thing in your world, herself included."
"You're lying," she snarled, drawing herself up to her full height. "Now get out of here!"
"Or what? You'll scream? Fight me off?" he threw his head back and laughed, a deep, barking sound that sent a chill down her spine. "You might wake the children. You wouldn't want little Noah to see you hand over his sister to me, would you?"
"GET. OUT." She hissed, nearly nose to nose with him now. "Keep away from me, and keep away from my children.
He was laughing again, quietly this time, and he raised a gloved hand to brush her damp hair from her face. "Give me the child, Sarah," he said softly.
"Get. Out."
She glared into his smug face for another moment, before he slowly backed away from her. With one final smirk, he transformed into a barn owl, and flew out the window into the night.
She released a shuddering breath, and ran to shut the window. She slammed the panes closed, and slid the lock into place. She grabbed the heavy drapes and pulled them together, fighting back a sob as she held the thick velvet fabric in her hands. It had been twenty-five years since she had last seen him. If he wanted to get back at her, why wait until now? And why come for Laurel?
She suddenly felt the urgent need to check on her children. She ran from the room, and crept down the hall as quickly as she could. She slowly opened the door to her son's bedroom, and peered inside.
Everything seemed to be normal in here. The twelve-year-old boy was sprawled out on his back, snoring softly. She smiled gently at him, and slipped inside to place the blanket that had been kicked to the floor back on top of him.
A feeling of dread began to pool in her stomach as she closed his door, and made her way towards her daughter's room. Memories of years before flashed through her head, of herself pulling back the covers in Toby's crib, only to find him gone. She took a deep breath before opening the door, and the light from the hallway illuminated the room.
Nothing was out of the ordinary, as far as she could tell. The lump in her daughter's bed was breathing slowly, and the top of a blonde head was peeking out the top of the covers. She padded over towards the bed, and pulled back the comforter ever so slightly. The long, pale face of her daughter met her, and she sighed with relief. She set the cover back over her face, and turned to leave, when she spied something out of the corner of her eye. She turned to see a barn owl sitting on the branch of the giant oak outside, peering in at her.
She bristled with anger, and stormed over to the window. The owl tilted its head at her as she slammed the window shut with as much force as she could muster. She glared at the bird as she reached up to pull the blinds closed, blocking the room from the Goblin King's view.
"Mom?" she heard a voice slur behind her, and she turned to see Laurel looking out the covers at her, her delicate features heavy with sleep. "What are you doing?"
"Nothing…" Sarah lied, moving closer to gently touch her soft blonde hair. "Go back to sleep. Sorry I woke you."
Laurel didn't need to be told twice, and she pulled the covers back over her head, and buried her face into the pillow. Sarah watched her a moment longer, before slowly closing the door. Her heart was pounding as she headed back towards her own room. She threw herself onto her bed, and reached up to flip off her lamp.
She rolled over onto her stomach, burying her head into her pillow. She closed her eyes, and took several deep breaths. It was fine, she told herself. Laurel was safe, and she was sure he could not take her away unless she allowed him to. She would have to keep a close eye on her daughter for a while, until she was sure the danger had passed.
'Perhaps when I wake up, this will all have been a dream,' she thought, as she rolled onto her side, pulling the covers back over herself.
Author's Note:
This is a rewrite/relaunch of a story I had started on an old account here many years ago. So on the off chance anyone who read it back then recognizes the title or the premise, that's why.
This will be my first Labyrinth fic in nearly ten years, and it's nice to be back.
Thank you for reading.