Disclaimer: I do not own rights to the Labyrinth, Jareth, or any of Jim Henson's characters. My plot and original characters are mine! Don't take them or the goblins will take you away right now!
[CHAPTER 1] — THE CITY OF TRIBESThe winters in Galway were always wet and windy. The harsh ocean breezes catapulted against the harbor city, bringing fresh droplets of chilling rain onto the second-floor window of the house Sarah rented. She had the dream again. Fog. Castles. Broken kings. Shaking her head, she swept the memory to the deeper corners of her mind. Sarah blew on the hand thrown porcelain mug clasped in both of her hands before taking another sip of Assam tea. 'Perfection.' She let her forehead fall against the windowpane in her reading nook and exhaled, her warm breath forming a circle of condensation on the glass. The turbulent waters rocked against the harbor. She drew a small ring in the circle of condensation. In the darkness enveloping the early morning hours, she could still glimpse the twinkling lights from the Christmas Market in Eyre Square. This was Sarah's favorite time of year, between Christmas and New Year's, when a relative calm settled over the city. She glanced at her wrist. 5:10 AM. She still had 20 minutes before Cedric arrived. Pulling the warm tan cardigan closer to her body, she took another sip of tea, her chestnut hair falling down over her shoulder. She closed her eyes longingly.
'I wonder what they're doing now.' Every other year, Sarah would travel back to Connecticut for the holidays, but it just wasn't in the cards this year on her stipend. 'Karen is probably regretting buying Toby the drum set.' She smiled wistfully. Her father was definitely making waffles with bacon and slapping Toby's greedy fingers away with the spatula. Even at 13-years-old, there was a little bit of Goblin in him. She frowned at that thought.
'Stop it, Sarah. No use in going there.' She thought to herself. She moved to this city three years ago in a panic. Graduating with an English degree with minors in Theatre and Anthropology from NYU didn't seem to help her land a job. Remembering Robert's disappointment, she sighed. Employers didn't seem to value her concentration in mythology and folklore. 'Lofty ideas and absolute failures.' She worked in a small bookstore in Brooklyn for a year after college. Acting became more of a past time than a passion. Linda helped her land a gig as Blanche in a modern remake of A Streetcar Named Desire. She slipped up on closing night. It was only a fleeting thought, a whisper on the corners of her conscious mind. 'I wish he could see…'
Immediately, Sarah shut down the reckless thought. Wishes were dangerous, but it was too late. As the curtain closed, mismatched eyes and the crocodile teeth of crooked smile flashed in the back row. She fled the stage and ran to the dressing room. As she changed into her jeans and sneakers, her character's boa fell to the floor. No one else would have noticed the feather out of place on Blanche's boa. With trembling fingers, Sarah plucked the tawny feather from her accessory. 'An owl feather.' It had not been there before. A dark chuckle echoed from behind her. There was a loud chittering creeping out of the shadowy corners of room. Sarah's head whipped around the dressing room, but she was alone. She shoved all of her things into her tote and abandoned the feather boa. Racing home to her one-bedroom apartment in Brooklyn, Sarah skipped out on the after party. That was the last time she went on stage. The was the last night for many things. 'Hoggle, I'm so sorry.' The rain started coming down harder as Sarah shivered at the thought.
'I will not think of him. I will not think of Hoggle. Not today.' There was a tap on her window. Sarah watched the pebble that had just hit the window fall to the street below.
"Howya, loveen!" Sarah suppressed her laugh at the picture of her friend on the street below. She cracked the window. He was drenched, from her shaggy brown mop of hair down to his tweed trousers and boots.
"Cedric, at this hour, keep your voice down. You're going to wake up Mrs. Lally!"
"I'm early. Don't get scarlet. Get yooehrr ass down 'ere. It's bucketing down."
"You really need to buy a new umbrella."
"Feck off."
"Give me two minutes! I'll be right down. We can get Riona on the way." Sarah rented a room in Mrs. Lally's small cottage downtown. She was a widow and generally left Sarah to her own devices, but there would be hell to pay if she woke her up at this hour. Tiptoeing past her landlady's room, she silently descended the stairs and walked through the kitchen. Sarah threw on her bright green rain jacket. Glancing back at the kitchen counter, Sarah eyed the loaf of bread critically, Mrs. Lally's voice echoing in her mind, "Befahre you go to a fairy-'aoehnted place, mend yooehr prahtections."
'Just in case…' She tore off a piece and shoved it in her pocket. She quickly turned her socks inside out before throwing on her rain boots and stepping out into the rain, expanding her umbrella.
"Took you lahng enooegh." Cedric rolled his big brown eyes at her and she smirked. They met their first year at her graduate program at NUI Galway. There weren't many students in the graduate school of archaeology, and Cedric, Riona, and Sarah had become fast friends, bonding over pints of the black stuff and teaching lazy undergrads. Cedric was from Dublin, but Sarah and Riona were the only two Americans in the program. "We'd better leave now if you want to make Cnoc Meadha befahre dawn." They hurried down the cobbled streets in companionable silence. Reaching Riona's apartment, they stood in front of the bright yellow door on Prospect Hill.
"Are you going to tell her today?" Sarah asked. Cedric cleared his throat and looked away from her. "Cedric." No response. "It's been two years. It's Christmas."
"It was Christmas."
"You'll never known until you try." He shuffled his feet.
"You know I'll make a right bag of it, Sar. Riona and me, we're…" he trailed off, and grew silent. Sarah shook her head at him, exasperated and knocked on the door
"Just a minute," a lilting female voice called. "Stop it," the voice giggled. Riona opened the door, and stuck her face out of the crack, face flushed. "Um, howya. Give me five." A male hand crept over Riona's shoulder from inside the flat. "Robbie, stop it." The hand retreated from her shoulder, and a deep baritone chuckle came from within. Cedric shoved his hands in his pockets and walked away from the door, Riona's eyes following.
"What's the story, Riona?" Sarah whispered.
"Oh, you know, just some craic after the undergrads finished finals. He's been at my house all week!" She whispered back.
"Riona!" Sarah exclaimed. Riona laughed, her brown eyes twinkling above her freckles, blonde hair falling in her eyes.
"Mmmm, I can't help it. He has a great ass. Can he come with us to Cnoc Meadha?"
"This was supposed to be our trip! We've been planning it since November."
"But I really like him!" Sarah glanced over her shoulder and Cedric, worrying her fingers in the hem of her raincoat.
"It's fine," Cedric mumbled walking over. "Let's all go." Riona squealed.
"Oh, thank you! I love you guys! You'll like him. He's great!"
Fifteen minutes later, they all piled into Riona's car. Cedric rushed to the front seat, and Robbie shrugged, slipping into the back with Sarah. She eyed him with cool suspicion. He had pale blue pointed eyes with an olive complexion and dark black hair. She didn't trust anyone that good looking.
"Heyo." He smiled mischievously. There was something pleasant about his smile, the way his eyes crinkled up at the corners. Maybe she could trust him a little. "Riona says you two are 'er best mates. Good to meet you!" She smiled back. Cedric frowned further sinking into the front seat.
"Robbie is in a band, Sar! That's how we met. Hey, Cedric, you still play guitar, right?" Cedric looked over at her and mumbled an affirmative. "Grumpy this morning, you are. You guys have to come see him play."
"I'd love to," Sarah tilted her head to one side. "Where do you play, Robbie?"
"Riona is joeht flatterin me! We joest play in a cahver band on Thursdays in de local pub."
"I'm in. We'll be there next week!" Riona responded for the group. Cedric continued his silence, which creeped awkwardly into the rest of the car. Robbie eyed Cedric carefully.
"Where are we going?" Robbie asked
"Cnoc Meadha." Sarah responded.
"Ah." He responded. Sarah looked at him expectantly. "What's Knock Made Ah?"
"Comb ohn man." Cedric said, "Yer local."
"I never paid moech attention in school." Cedric rolled his eyes. "Well I'm naht a doctorate nerd like all o' you."
"Oh Robbie, I'd smack you if I weren't driving. Sarah, can you tell it? You have the best Shahrazad voice out of all of us."
"Do I have to?"
"Yes," the other three occupants of the car chorused.
"Comb ohn, Sarah. It's a fahrty-minute drive." Cedric's dark eyes pleaded with her. 'Traitor,' she thought. 'He just doesn't want to listen to Riona lose her mind over Robbie.
"Bullies. Fine." Sarah took a deep breath, her emerald eyes flashing as she remembered the tale. "This is the tale of Ethna, the bride who was not stolen. Cnoc Meadha or Knockma Hill is an ancient place, a seat of power for the fairy folk. Finvarra, or Fin Bheara, was King of the Daoine Sidhe and Connacht King of the Fairies, and Cnoc Meadha was his home. Some even say Finvarra was the King of the Dead. Although, Finvarra was married to another Sidhe, Oonagh, he loved mortal women passionately, much to the ire of his wife, more beautiful than any woman on earth. We think," Sarah said quietly glancing at her counterparts, "that Finvarra was actually one of the ancient race, the Tuatha de Danann. Most of the Tuatha De Danann were forced to flee Ireland with the Milesians arrived, but Finvarra refused to leave, due to his love of mortals. Finvarra made a truce with the Milesians to not slaughter him or the remainder of his people if he agreed to go underground. On the hill, Cnoc Meadha, there is a ruin called Finvarra's castle. The remaining Tuatha de Danann lived underground in this castle and in other great underground cities and the trees surrounding them." Sarah looked out the window as she continued her tale. These stories always made her think of another place underground. Robbie narrowed his eyes and studied Sarah carefully as she took another deep breath.
"Anyway, so Ethna was said to be the most beautiful woman in all of Ireland and was a new bride to a young lord. Her husband, Lord Conrad, held a celebration as he was so enamored of her beauty the day following her wedding. He held the festivities in his castle, which was very close to the fairy hill covering Finvarra's palace. Lord Conrad was cautious of Finvarra, but routinely set out offerings of wine and bread to the fairy king and was always rewarded with fair crops. His land knew no drought. The night of the celebrations, Ethna's golden hair was as radiant as the sun, her gray eyes reflecting the moon's light as she danced with her husband. When she went to switch partners, she fell to the floor, and nothing would wake her. Lord Conrad ordered her carried to her bed and did not leave her side until she woke the next morning, speaking of nothing but a beautiful land full of strange creatures and perpetual sunset sky." It sounded like the Labyrinth when Sarah recounted her tale. It had been thirteen years since she stood by the barren tree overlooking his kingdom.
"Although he ordered her door guarded, Lord Conrad found her bed empty the next morning, both guards fast asleep outside the door. She was gone. Although search parties sought her out in the forests and neighboring town, Ethna had disappeared completely. Lord Conrad sought out his friend, King Finvarra, for help to find his beloved. Reaching the Rath, Lord Conrad overheard a quiet female voice, "Lord Conrad will never see her again. Poor man. I saw King Finvarra carrying Ethna into the palace, grinning like a fool."
"He could win her back," a male voice responded. "If he could dig a hole into the heart of the Rath. The light of the sun would release her." There was pause and then a loud burst of laughter from both voices.
"A mortal could never best Finvarra."
"Of course not." The male voice chortled. Lord Conrad was not to be dissuaded. He grabbed twenty of his strongest men and the set to work, digging a trench deep and wide. They slept that night hoping they would reach the heart of the Rath the next day, but when the woke up, it was if the trench had never existed, bright green grass growing over their hours of hard labor. Lord Conrad entreated the villagers for more help, but the same result occurred the next two days. A gentle female voice whispered in his ear, the same voice that originally mocked his plight, 'Salt, my love. Pour salt in the trenches.' He headed the advice of the spirit, and the next morning his trenches were untouched. Fearing for the safety of the Tuatha de Danann, Finvarra appeared before Lord Conrad. They were no longer friends."
"'If you cease your digging, I will return your bride at dusk,' Finvarra lamented mournfully. As the men laid down their tools, Ethna walked through the deep cleft in the mouth of the glen, and Lord Conrad carried her away, back to his home." Sarah paused in her story and tilted her head thoughtfully. "We all love ancient folklore," she explained to Robbie and he nodded expectantly, waiting for her to continue, "and as archaeologists have a love of landscape and local history. You can still see the cleft in the Fairy Glen where Ethna reportedly walked through."
"And they lived happily ever after?" Robbie quipped, grinning like a fool.
"Not quite." Sarah replied. He frowned. "Ethna lay motionless as stone for a year and a day, not eating, aging, or drinking. The castle inhabitants were afraid she ate the food of the Fae and that her soul was still trapped underground with Finvarra and his people. Finvarra had closed off his world to mortals after Lord Conrad retrieved his bride. Lord Conrad in his grief rode to the fairy glen in tears, and the female spirit returned to him. 'Oh, Lord Conrad, your wife lives.' He lifted his head. 'You must take out the fairy pin from her waist band and bury it in the earth. Burn the sash to which it is fastened and scatter the ashes. Her soul will return to you.'
'Thank you, spirit.' He galloped home on his horse and after burning the ashes from her sash, scattered them. Finding the fairy pin, Lord Conrad buried it under a Hawthorn bush where no one could disturb it. Ethna opened her eyes when he returned and fell into his arms.
'My love,' he murmured, holding her tightly to him. 'You have returned.'
'I have missed you, my lord.' Her melodic voice carried in the wind of the castle, a smile on her lips, which did not quite reach her eyes. It is said they lived happily ever after, but…" Sarah looked out the window again. They had arrived. The path to Cnoc Meadha stretched out from the edge of the parking lot. Her voice turned to a whisper. "It was in her eyes, the servants would whisper, when she trailed off at the end of a sentence, when her eyes rested a second too long on the horizon, when she stopped eating in the middle of meal, or when she hummed a lullaby to thin air with her eyes closed." Sarah opened the car door and swallowed the lump in her throat. She didn't see the shadow skitter under the wheel of the car. She could almost hear his mocking voice, 'Even if you get to the center of the Labyrinth, you'll never get out again.'
"A part of her soul would always be caught underground." Sarah finished with foreboding. The rain had stopped. They all stepped out of the car and looked up to the three cairns at the top of the hill.