Sage; Wisdom:
Tell her to find me an acre of land.
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Between the sea foam and over the sand.
Then she'll be a true love of mine
Plow the land with the horn of a lamb.
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Then sow some seeds from north of the dam.
Then she'll be a true love of mine
Have her reap it with a sickle of leather.
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Gather it up in a bunch of heather.
Then she'll be a true love of mine....
Her footsteps echoed through the empty stone corridors, the tap tap of her heels somehow making the old castle seem fuller. She was one of the few who resided at the ruins; sleeping in tents in what was left of the old courtyard.
Sarah loved her job, the hours of studying and cataloguing the half decayed tomes that littered the castle. So many stories yet to be told. The place held a type of fantasy that she had only once before encountered.
When she worked in the library during the early morning hours she could just imagine the handful of scholars already buried deep within the shelves, or the scribes as they diligently recounted a tale on their paper.
The afternoon sun that always would shine brightly just outside of the library into a small abandoned garden, seemed to open up the veil between eras and Sarah swore she could see the young maidens and their lovers as they giggled amongst the trailing roses.
She loved this place, it was the only place on earth where she could pretend that it actually had happened. Her colleagues each had their own stories of mysterious encounters with the Faire Folk, but she doubted that any of them were more than tall tales spun by those who wanted to believe. She had told them of the Labyrinth, well at least a version of the story. She never said that it had been her. Their tales of seeing fairies in Midsummer or goblins in the corners of the old ruins were pretty different than confessing that she herself had actually gone to the Underground. She was sure she would have been laughed at, and so she spoke of it as nothing more than a children's tale.
Turning the corner that lead back to camp she began to hear laughter. Collin had most likely brought out his stash of scotch. The weekends were always a time for relaxation, sadly in the case of most at the castle that meant getting thoroughly sloshed. This normally also meant that by Monday everyone avoided each other still embarrassed by what the idiots had done the days before.
A deep beat echoed through the halls the closer Sarah got to the courtyard. Drums. That was new, as far as she knew no one there could even play the spoons. Music filled the castle, an earthy mystic sound that left Sarah feeling calm.
Her eyes widened as she took in the camp, there was scotch that was for sure, but what she hadn't expected were the brightly dressed men and women dancing and singing along with her colleagues. There was something about these people, the way they looked at her as she walked through them. It was strangely familiar.
Collin was propped up against a large piece of the fallen walls, his eyes riveted at the woman in front of him. This wouldn't have been all that strange, he had always been a bit of a playboy, but as far as she knew his tastes didn't extend to old toothless women like that sitting with him.
She could see the awe in his eyes; the shock sketched out in the line of his fallen jaw. Curious as what could bother the seemingly unflappable Collin, she took a seat beside him her eyes drifting up to meet those of the old woman.
She couldn't have been younger than eighty at least, her hair a strange silver that seemed to sparkle in the light of the sunset. Her skin though folded in wrinkles was milky and free of age spots. Eyes like the stormiest skies and a smile that told of thousands of years of knowledge.
The old woman extended one bony hand in greeting to the newest addition to her audience. Cautiously Sarah grasped it and held back a gasp at the coldness to her skin. The woman just smiled in her knowing way.
"Welcome Sarah, it has been a long time. Too long I do believe." Her fingers squeezed gently before retreating to grab the bag at her side. Sarah sat there silently, unable to speak after the woman's breathy words. It wasn't all that unusual that she would know her name, one of the others most likely had mentioned it. But she spoke to her as though she knew her, like long parted friends.
"Do not look so surprised child, surely you knew this would come one day? He doesn't give up what is his very easily. Now I guess it would be prudent to introduce myself, I'm Emer a Mystic of the realm." Blinking a couple of times Sarah tried to find her voice.
"He? What are you talking about, a Mystic?" Emer just laughed, her fingers curling around an object inside of her bag.
"A Mystic, the wisdom keepers of our world. Of course you wouldn't know anything about that, you have been gone way too long." So focused on the woman before her she didn't notice that the sky began to darken, thick clouds forming heavy with rain.
"Gone? Our world? Excuse me, but I've never even met you before, I don't know you so how could you….what?" A soft rumble sounded above them, the first cold drops of water tapping quietly against the gray stones.
"We do not need to have met to know each other. In our world the veils between time and the other worlds are much thinner. We have met before, in the past or future, it is sometimes hard to keep track. You will understand this more once home. He will make sure of it." Sarah felt like her head was going to burst it hurt so bad.
"Who in the world is he?" Emer smirked as she pulled an object from her bag and handed it to her. If Sarah hadn't been sitting against a stone she most likely would have fallen backwards in order to get away from what now laid in her lap. A single round clear crystal.
"Jareth…" Her fingers carefully skimmed over the top of the crystal, the image of the Goblin King forming from within.
"Yes, he is waiting for you. Has been for years. You do not belong here girl, among all these dusty tomes. Where the veils are so thick they are more like stone walls. You were born for more, born for him." Sarah looked down at the image of Jareth, he was sitting on his throne, his legs thrown over one of the arms. He looked the same as he had that night. His hair was still a mess of flaxen silk, his eyes still hauntingly bright.
"No, you have got it wrong. I belong here, I'm not fae or goblin or whatever you are I am human." Emer just shook her head and grabbed the crystal so she could hold it level to the girl's eyes.
"Are you really that blind? Who is it that you dream of at night, who haunts your thoughts when you are awake? When you walk these lonely halls where is it that you pretend to be? When you are wrapped in a man's arms, who is it that you wish was loving you?
"Tell me Sarah, tell me that you are not meant for him, that you do not belong there. Tell me." A single tear fell from her eye. She had tried so many times to forget, tried to be with others, but it always came back to him. Always.
Her hand came up, curling around the crystal, her eyes staring straight into Emer's.
"I can't…" A smile pulled widely at the old woman's lips. A flash of lightning crossed the sky blinding all in the courtyard. When everyone's eyes adjusted they were left with mouths hanging wide open. The band of revelers were gone, along with them the strange old woman and Sarah.
Sarah blinked as she looked about her, her fingers still clasped around the crystal. The man before her smiled at her. His sharp teeth shinning between his glistening lips.
"Well Sarah, it is about time."
Author's Notes: Just a bit of a side project I have had in the works for awhile. I have always loved Scarborough Faire, and thought it fitted in nicely with my idea of the Underground.
Each of the chapters are actually just short stories that are totally unrelated. The only thing that will match will be that each story will have a Renaissance/Medieval theme.
There will be four short stories in all, each set to the theme of the meaning of the herb used for the title.
Author's Notes for Sage: Ok took me awhile, but got this one done. I know this really doesn't show wisdom all that well, guess it really depends on how you look at it. But this sort of came to me for this cause I have been listening to Blackmore's Night lately, and listened over and over to "Way to Mandalay" while writing this.
Disclaimer: I do not own Labyrinth, and the Lyrics are Traditional.