Alright y'all, I've decided to continue this. It won't be consistent, but i've got some ideas I want to churn out now. Enjoy and please comment/review! To review, it's two years after Sarah ran the labyrinth. Last night, Sarah had a bad dream she was being pursued by someone. Something. Little does she remember, this is a recurring dream.
Saturday morning. Early May.
The morning after that bad dream, Sarah had called her friends through her vanity mirror—but, she made no mention of the dream. She thought it inconsequential. She had already forgotten it was a recurring thing and was not bothered. She had already forgotten most of the dream. She was more interested in Hoggle's new job.
"So, do you like it?" asked Sarah, trying to ward off exasperation. It was difficult to get a true, emotional response from the dwarf. His replies were often guarded with a grumbly and crusty exterior; yet, Sarah managed to see through them, even if she didn't receive a straight reply.
"It pays well enough. And I's still getting to twitch fairies here and there. I enjoy the access to certain treasures, even if it's limited. The decorating is the best parts," said Hoggle with a proud grin. He had been selected as the King's gardener. He continued to man the gardens around the outside of the labyrinth, keeping the fairy population in check, but now he was allowed to work within the castle gardens, the King's own topiaries. Hoggle had his own staff and access to some of the Goblin King's wares in order to care for and adorn the gardens.
Sarah couldn't imagine Hoggle being very cordial with his staff, but she knew his no-nonsense approach to things would get the job done. She wondered what prompted Hoggle's employment now two years after her visit. Did it have something to do with his connection to her, or was it really a coincidence. She was certainly happy for Hoggle and talked about the matter without bringing up the King.
"That sounds wonderful, Hoggle!" Sarah lauded.
Sir Didymus still guarded his post at the Bog of Eternal Stench, but a new, stronger, better bridge had been built for him and whoever should chose to be a passerby.
"My lady, have you visited the university of which you spoke?" asked Sir Didymus.
"I did! Thank you for remembering."
Sarah was in her Junior year of high school and decided she would pursue acting as her mother had. Her eye was set on Juilliard, but she knew how competitive the admissions process was. The school itself was small, but she couldn't help but feel a sense of belonging as she had walked around the building.
She was also looking at NYU, AMDA, AADA, Hofstra, and Columbia. Sarah loved the idea of going far away to acting school, but she couldn't deny that the best schools were in New York City. NYC was less than an hour drive from their little town of Piermont in upstate Rockwell Country—even with traffic. At least she would have the in-state tuition discount. And, she could do a semester somewhere else if she really wanted to get away.
"Like California," she thought. Far away and completely different.
"I really like it there, guys. I know it's one of the most competitive schools in the country, but I just feel like I really belong there."
"Sarah good enough. Sarah go there," said Ludo.
"Thanks, Ludo," Sarah smiled.
Hoggle chimed in. "Just keep working hard and your head on your shoulders. We know you're good enough to go, but you can't help the competition you face and what the professors want. There are lots of other great schools; don't forget about them." Hoggle was always the voice of reason.
"Great advice, Hoggle. Thank you. I won't. Well, I gotta get going, guys. Dance soon. This next week is kinda busy, but I'll talk to you soon enough!" she said, giving her mirror a kiss.
After goodbyes, Sarah grabbed her point shoes, tap shoes, and jazz shoes. She headed downstairs to the kitchen where Toby was situated in his booster seat at the kitchen table and Karen was cooking pancakes. Sarah grabbed an apple and an orange; she was focusing on eating better. She wanted to stay in shape for her eventual auditions. Pancakes had a few too many carbs for her taste.
She scooted her chair closer to Toby. Naturally, they had become very close after the Labyrinth. She gave him a big kiss on the cheek.
"Good morning, Sarah. Will you be joining us for pancakes?" asked Karen.
"No, but thank you. I'm going to go for a walk before dance." She turned her attention to Toby. "How did you sleep, bud?"
"Good. Pancakes are sticky," he said, preoccupied with the flapjacks sopping in syrup. Now four years old, he was developing a vocabulary.
"That they are. Make sure you use your fork," Sarah advised with a giggle. She gave him another big kiss and headed out the door.
It was a little crisp for May that morning. Sarah wished she had brought her jacket. Then, a warm wind blew from behind. Sarah turned and looked. She didn't know why she looked; it was just the wind. She felt a little off that morning and figured she must not have slept very well. She saw nothing.
"Of course I see nothing," she thought to herself. She continued walking. She would take the long way that took her past the park.
She remembered that she had had a bad dream. She couldn't remember the dream itself, though she did remember running. She tried not to dwell on it too much and thought about her choreography. They were now working on Swan Lake. Sarah was specifically working on Odette's entrance. She had been in ballet and tap since she was a little girl, but had never taken them too seriously. After her trip to the Labyrinth, she pursued them with full force. She also started modern as well as jazz. She had always thought she would be an actress, and facing the Labyrinth made her focus on what was really important to her in life. She now gave more time to her family and focused on her future. She had read all of Shakespeare's plays at least three times. She read plays both old and new constantly, keeping up with new releases. She studied the films of only prominent, serious actors. She made sure to have no less than six soliloquies ready at any time. She also took an acting class closer to the city once a week.
Her Saturday's brought her all four dance classes, each of which also met once more during the week—twice, in the case of ballet. Saturday was also her private ballet lesson. Her teacher only took four private students, two boys and two girls, to teach from the time they were 16 until they turned 19.
Her mind drifted at the beginning of her lesson, and her teacher certainly noticed. Mikel was a dancer with the New York City Ballet, and he took teaching as seriously as he took dancing. Sarah was very lucky to be admitted to his 13-19 y/o studio. He was strict and an artist by every definition. He was certainly not lacking in passion and drive; Sarah thought he was brilliant and did not like to disappoint him.
"Sarah!" he called. "Where is your mind?! I do not see a swan today. I do not even see a duck. Your arms lack finesse. Again!"
Sarah exhaled and reorganized her thoughts. No new choreography was to be pursued today, only repetition of what she knew of Swan Lake. It was almost completely learned.
After she finished the segment, she looked out at Mikel. He nodded in approval.
"Yes, but I still feel your mind is not going all the way today. I need total commitment. Let's run the prologue."
Most productions did not have a prologue to Swan Lake. They usually began with the court scene, but it was a modern fad to choreograph a prologue of Odette being kidnapped by Rothbart for the overture.
Mikel and Sarah circled each other, his hand catching her waist. As they spun around one another, he spoke, "This is important." She was on point, his hands grasping her wrists. "Everyone only shows Odette the damsel, but we need to see Odette the fighter. We need to see her resist." She spun out of his grasp. "She has substance. She has character. Fight!" As he came after her, she brought her leg up to his shoulder and "pushed" him away with toes pointed. She twirled, a smile of triumph on her lips. A more complex cat-and-mouse scene ensued. "Tragically, she does become the damsel. The crow has caught the swan, but she doesn't lose her fire."
He lifted her; Odette was caught. He caressed her face. She turned left and right, she pulled away. He pulled her in, grasping her chin in one hand, bringing her face to his. He then held her close. She went on point, and he brought his hands to her hips. They walked backward. He brought her from on point into the air, she feigned Odette passing out, falling limp into Mikel's arms.
"Yes," said Mikel, "I felt you that time. It was real and visceral. You know, you're the equal of the ballerinas here who are pursuing a career. After we do Swan Lake, it is Stravinsky's Les noces. Iwant you to be the bride."
Sarah gasped. "Without an audition?! Mikel, thank you. I don't know what to say."
"Do not say anything. Show me. Show me you deserve it." Mikel paused. His face was serious. "You may be able to make an early entrance into my 18-25 y/o company, should you wish to join. You know they are a performing troupe that does shows in the city. One show in the spring and one in the autumn, each running for a month. I know you will be auditioning for schools next year, but you are a hard worker. We could definitely use you. I understand you might not be able to continue once in college, but I'm sure if you don't bog yourself down with classes you could find time for us."
Sarah turned her eyes away from him. She was so focused on being an actress. Would this be a hindrance? She thought.
"Don't let it go to your head, though," Mikel said. "Your technique has reached the level of the ballerinas your age, but it is inconsistent. I will expect more from now on. It is your passion that sets you apart. Something in your performance is...magical," he said, taking her hand. He gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Think about it, mon ingénue. But, not for too long. I do not wait for anyone, even you." He turned and left his studio. Sarah gave a little smile. He was certainly an artist. She would do it.
~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ •
That night, as Sarah slept, a barn owl perched outside her bedroom window. Jareth had watched her dance that morning. He did not care for any other dance than ballet, a dance when humans seemed fae. He had a plan for that night.
The barn owl began to wretch. It twitched its head. It was heaving, it was coughing. Its head bent upward and kept bending behind itself. Its beak lengthened and its feathers darkened. Darker they grew, darker, darker...
The owl was now a crow. It disappeared into a cloud of glitter.
PS I know Swan Lake is overdone and there are so many other ballets (which is why I gave Les noces a shoutout), but it works for what I have planned (PPS I ADORE swan lake).