A/N: Well, having the internet down certainly sparks my creativity-this is
the third chapter I've been prompted to write for this story, and I still
can't even ping a server. Oh well, I suppose this story will get up
sometime... In the meantime, Labyrinth is NOT MINE, it belongs to Henson &
assoc. co.; "Crystal Ball" still belongs to Styx; Dobby IS a Harry Potter
character, so he's not mine either-property of JK Rowling; The Moorchild
isn't mine either-that's where Keswyin and 'glamorie' come from-((wow ...
suddenly I feel really insignificant...)) it doth belongeth to
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"Well, tell me, tell me where I'm going, I don't know where I've been. Tell me, tell me, won't you tell me?- And then tell me again."
Chapter Three: "Where we're Going"
Amber woke in the middle of the night, breathing quickly. She sat bolt upright and knew instantly she was being watched-though by whom, she hadn't the foggiest. She glanced around the room quickly. She knew quite well where she was-her memory wasn't that bad.
That's when she spotted it-something moving in the shadows. Certainly not threatening, as it seemed a bit small. It ran by quite near to her and she reached out to grab... a handful of little kid's soccer shorts. Her brow furrowed in confusion as she tugged on the handful to get a character she recognized well-Dobby-sitting in her lap. Only... he was different, too; he was wearing matching socks, and a soccer jersey. The colorful tea cozy he supposedly had had was nowhere in sight. Dobby hopped up and turned to face her.
He squeaked, "I is sorry to disturb you, miss. Just tidying up a bit."
Amber smiled, "No, it's okay. But... aren't you Dobby?"
He nodded, "Yes, miss."
She nodded as well, but only grew more confused. She asked him quietly, "Then what are you doing here?"
"Dobby works here miss." The house elf replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"I...I thought you worked at Hogwarts, Dobby?" Amber was only growing more confused with each of his remarks.
"Hogwarts, miss? I work for Hoggle, if that be what you're meanin'. Do you need to see a doctor, miss?-you seems a bit delirious to me." The house elf replied with a bit of concern gleaming in his round eyes.
"Nah, I'm 'kay. Just... a little confused from all the 'Hollywood glamorie'- the distortion of stories and such," she replied, rubbing at her eyes.
"Ah, I understand, miss. Uh... those 'Harry Potter' books, yeah?" he nodded, as if this sort of thing had happened before.
"Yeah, I should learn not to believe everything I read." she nodded and laughed a little in agreement.
"Ah, but did you really think anyone could have such horrible fashion sense, miss?" Dobby gave her a toothy grin and promptly left the room.
Amber just sat there, shaking her head. Who woulda thunk fashion sense mattered to a house elf? But that was of no consequence. She still felt watched. And she also felt as if that encounter had been... planned, somehow-and she could definitely tell there was still someone else in the room. Having two little brothers had to be good for something.
There were windows around her, and in pale moonlight Amber caught her first real glimpse of the room. It had an awful lot of windows-each of which seemed more like doors than anything else. These led onto a balcony, and in the room there was no bed-a few chairs, a small, carved table, and a huge pile of pillows in the corner. The carpet she had slept on was soft and thick, the same color as the moonlight-a pale, silvery white.
She glanced around, still looking for her quiet observer. She stood slowly, ready to pounce on anything that moved. The sheer curtains that fringed the windows fluttered in a pleasantly warm breeze, and she saw her second visitor standing in the shadows beside the curtains-it was Jareth. She let out a breath she didn't realize she had been holding, and spoke, "Why are you watching me?"
He jumped and realized he had been discovered. He stepped out, hands folded behind his back, and leaned against the edge of the window, "The night is indeed your element, Amber. Nice detective work."
"Why do you keep avoiding my questions?" she sighed.
He simply shrugged and walked out of the window, which she finally realized was a door, and onto the balcony. She felt compelled to follow him, and in a few moments found herself standing on the balcony as well. She noticed, as a light breeze fluttered her gown, that her outfit had changed-she was now clothed in a long, flowing dress of material that strongly resembled the night sky, complete with constellations and even a silver crescent moon located right below her neck. The cut was unlike anything she had seen, and the fabric felt unreal, but she let these details go as she focused now on the superhuman before her.
"Why were you watching me?" she asked again.
"I couldn't sleep." He shrugged again.
"So you decided the next best thing to do would be to watch me?" she asked with a bit of mixed confusion, disbelief, and disgust.
"Well, to test you. Which required observation, yes." He nodded once, emphasizing the word "observation" as if watching and observing were two entirely different things.
"Ah..." she said simply, letting her thoughts race inward as only her eyes showed any evidence of thought outwards.
He gazed up at the moon. "It's a beautiful night. I hope you didn't mind that I opened the windows for you-I thought you might enjoy the breeze. Do you think you'll be able to get back to sleep?"
She blinked back into reality and watched him a bit curiously, "I doubt sleep will come to me again tonight. Its sweet caress is too elusive for my grasp."
He looked down at her with raised eyebrows, "Quite the poet. Well, I doubt I'll be able to sleep either, so let's begin your challenge. A little early, I know, but you'll need all the time you can get and I think you've had a good enough introduction to the Labyrinth already-enough that you can wander the halls here without being too surprised too badly too many times more. At least, I would hope you weren't that naïve." He flashed a sunny smile, and walked back inside through her window, "Come along now, follow me. No time to waste!"
Amber once again wondered if the only reason he seemed more villainous to Sarah was because she had made him to be the true villain in her mind-but she tried not to think about this and once more followed obediently.
They walked back out of his corridor and onto the hall with the colorful tapestries. Somewhere, a clock struck 13. Amber smiled faintly-at least the movie had gotten one thing right; the 13-hour timescale. She realized she hadn't seen a single goblin. She shrugged. It wasn't like she was really looking forward to an encounter of that nature, anyway. They stopped as he locked the door and placed the tiny silver key in a fold of his flowing navy cape somewhere-it was then she noticed his cape looked almost identical to her gown. She laughed imperceptibly at this realization, and felt more than ever there was another bit of the story that Hollywood had gotten right. But of course, she didn't let him know that.
He turned back to her, face solemn, and gave his first set of instructions, "As I told you, you are to meet me in the Right Room by the dawn of the Second Day. You remember my directions as to its location, I trust. This corridor is four floors up-it is unique in that it is the only one that has subtle difficulties, if any. Ah, and the most important advice I can give you now is something that should sound a bit familiar-'things aren't always what they seem, in this place'. Don't fall for 'Hollywood glamorie', as you described it. Good luck." He fought the strong urge to touch her-to shake her hand, to hug her, to kiss her, just to place a hand on her shoulder- though it took a lot of his resolve, he faded into the air and left her standing alone in the corridor with his feeble advice.
She felt a small knot of fear growing in the pit of her stomach-she was going to be alone. All alone. For a day-if she didn't run into trouble. She doubted she'd make any little allies to help her along on her journey. After all, she had made up her mind that half of Sarah's story was "glamorie". She couldn't help but talk to herself, "And once again, I am on my own. Well, I'm not going to save Asher if I stand around and daydream all day-er, night..."
With these last words, she walked on down the hallway. She suddenly wished she had a weapon, for who knows how much trouble she could run into here... especially, as Jareth had said, if the problems would be subtle...
She tried to push this out of her mind as she walked on, cautiously. The tapestries on the walls were rippling as if blown by a breeze, but none was to be felt. She wished she had something to tie her hair back with to keep it out of her face. There was a loose thread in her gown-she tugged it out and used it to tie back her hair. It was makeshift, but it served the purpose. There were no errant curls in her eyes as she scanned the corridor warily. There-there was a bulge behind the tapestry. And it was on the move, thankfully slowly. She tiptoed up beside it, and pushed against it with her hands, as she was unaware it if were friend or foe. The bulge moved, and an arm seemed to come free, a tiny knife slashed a rent in the tapestry so that a head of dark complexion, fair curls, and lavender eyes looked out upon her-Folk. Only the skin was as black as night, the curls were as white as paper, and the eyes were speckled with a pulsing electric blue.
"Lemme go!" the tiny Folk creature screamed-from its tone of voice, Amber knew it to be female.
"What are you doing?" Amber questioned the girl-for it looked to be young, as well.
"I's off to the Mound, gen'l business, just leave me to it!" the Folk girl said with a note of pleading.
"What's your name, eh?" Amber asked the girl.
"What's it to you, eh?" she replied mockingly.
"I've got your knife, eh." Amber said, calmly grabbing the Folk's knife and holding it to her throat.
"Eh... name's Keswyin. Gimme back my knife!" she shrieked.
"Ah... I think not. You're going to help me. Then I'll give you your knife." Amber smirked. Perhaps she would have a friend of sorts, after all. She corrected herself-another friend.
"Eh, don't need a knife. What else could ya gimme?" Keswyin gave Amber a smirk just as cunning as her own had been.
Amber shrugged, "Oh, I dunno-I could whittle you a hickory whistle. Kinda primitive, but it makes music, and we're bound to come across a hickory tree before this is over with-and if we don't, I could manage it out of other wood."
Keswyin furrowed her brow in thought. She seemed to be weighing choices to see which was the greater good-or evil. She nodded, "Alright. But I don't see what help I could be to ya."
Amber nodded, "All I really need right now is a guide, of sorts. Get me down to the first level of this place. I'll let you know more then."
"I dun need no details. By the way, girl, what's your name?" Keswyin asked, businesslike in manner.
"My name?-Amber." She told her plainly.
"Eh, ain't got no ring to it-and I dun think I could pronounce it, b'sides. How 'bout a new name?-From now on, you're...ehm... Lokiinlt, aight?" Keswyin prompted.
"Alright, Keswyin." Amber nodded, and loosed her grip on the Folk girl, who slid out from under the tapestry to step in front of her. Keswyin snapped, and she changed herself to a girl a little taller than Amber, with the same white hair-but braided and long, now. She was clothed, Amber noticed, in a short, plain dress that looked to be made of cobweb, belted with a length of woven grasses, and was bare-footed. She retained her sable skin and speckled eyes.
"I though' ya migh' feel more comfor'ble with me if I were a bit more like you." Keswyin explained, walking on down the corridor. Amber followed, convinced now that 'glamorie' was a powerful force in her world, indeed.
:~:*^*:~:
NEXT CHAPTER: THIRD FLOOR CORRIDOR-HEH, ANOTHER HARRY POTTER TERM-BUT IT DOESN'T HOUSE A THREE-HEADED DOG! WHAT DANGER AWAITS OUR HEROES? YOU'VE GOTTA READ THE NEXT CHAPTER TO FIND OUT!
:~:*^*:~:~~~~~~~~~~:~:*^*:~:~~~~~~~~~~~:~:*^*:~:
"Well, tell me, tell me where I'm going, I don't know where I've been. Tell me, tell me, won't you tell me?- And then tell me again."
Chapter Three: "Where we're Going"
Amber woke in the middle of the night, breathing quickly. She sat bolt upright and knew instantly she was being watched-though by whom, she hadn't the foggiest. She glanced around the room quickly. She knew quite well where she was-her memory wasn't that bad.
That's when she spotted it-something moving in the shadows. Certainly not threatening, as it seemed a bit small. It ran by quite near to her and she reached out to grab... a handful of little kid's soccer shorts. Her brow furrowed in confusion as she tugged on the handful to get a character she recognized well-Dobby-sitting in her lap. Only... he was different, too; he was wearing matching socks, and a soccer jersey. The colorful tea cozy he supposedly had had was nowhere in sight. Dobby hopped up and turned to face her.
He squeaked, "I is sorry to disturb you, miss. Just tidying up a bit."
Amber smiled, "No, it's okay. But... aren't you Dobby?"
He nodded, "Yes, miss."
She nodded as well, but only grew more confused. She asked him quietly, "Then what are you doing here?"
"Dobby works here miss." The house elf replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"I...I thought you worked at Hogwarts, Dobby?" Amber was only growing more confused with each of his remarks.
"Hogwarts, miss? I work for Hoggle, if that be what you're meanin'. Do you need to see a doctor, miss?-you seems a bit delirious to me." The house elf replied with a bit of concern gleaming in his round eyes.
"Nah, I'm 'kay. Just... a little confused from all the 'Hollywood glamorie'- the distortion of stories and such," she replied, rubbing at her eyes.
"Ah, I understand, miss. Uh... those 'Harry Potter' books, yeah?" he nodded, as if this sort of thing had happened before.
"Yeah, I should learn not to believe everything I read." she nodded and laughed a little in agreement.
"Ah, but did you really think anyone could have such horrible fashion sense, miss?" Dobby gave her a toothy grin and promptly left the room.
Amber just sat there, shaking her head. Who woulda thunk fashion sense mattered to a house elf? But that was of no consequence. She still felt watched. And she also felt as if that encounter had been... planned, somehow-and she could definitely tell there was still someone else in the room. Having two little brothers had to be good for something.
There were windows around her, and in pale moonlight Amber caught her first real glimpse of the room. It had an awful lot of windows-each of which seemed more like doors than anything else. These led onto a balcony, and in the room there was no bed-a few chairs, a small, carved table, and a huge pile of pillows in the corner. The carpet she had slept on was soft and thick, the same color as the moonlight-a pale, silvery white.
She glanced around, still looking for her quiet observer. She stood slowly, ready to pounce on anything that moved. The sheer curtains that fringed the windows fluttered in a pleasantly warm breeze, and she saw her second visitor standing in the shadows beside the curtains-it was Jareth. She let out a breath she didn't realize she had been holding, and spoke, "Why are you watching me?"
He jumped and realized he had been discovered. He stepped out, hands folded behind his back, and leaned against the edge of the window, "The night is indeed your element, Amber. Nice detective work."
"Why do you keep avoiding my questions?" she sighed.
He simply shrugged and walked out of the window, which she finally realized was a door, and onto the balcony. She felt compelled to follow him, and in a few moments found herself standing on the balcony as well. She noticed, as a light breeze fluttered her gown, that her outfit had changed-she was now clothed in a long, flowing dress of material that strongly resembled the night sky, complete with constellations and even a silver crescent moon located right below her neck. The cut was unlike anything she had seen, and the fabric felt unreal, but she let these details go as she focused now on the superhuman before her.
"Why were you watching me?" she asked again.
"I couldn't sleep." He shrugged again.
"So you decided the next best thing to do would be to watch me?" she asked with a bit of mixed confusion, disbelief, and disgust.
"Well, to test you. Which required observation, yes." He nodded once, emphasizing the word "observation" as if watching and observing were two entirely different things.
"Ah..." she said simply, letting her thoughts race inward as only her eyes showed any evidence of thought outwards.
He gazed up at the moon. "It's a beautiful night. I hope you didn't mind that I opened the windows for you-I thought you might enjoy the breeze. Do you think you'll be able to get back to sleep?"
She blinked back into reality and watched him a bit curiously, "I doubt sleep will come to me again tonight. Its sweet caress is too elusive for my grasp."
He looked down at her with raised eyebrows, "Quite the poet. Well, I doubt I'll be able to sleep either, so let's begin your challenge. A little early, I know, but you'll need all the time you can get and I think you've had a good enough introduction to the Labyrinth already-enough that you can wander the halls here without being too surprised too badly too many times more. At least, I would hope you weren't that naïve." He flashed a sunny smile, and walked back inside through her window, "Come along now, follow me. No time to waste!"
Amber once again wondered if the only reason he seemed more villainous to Sarah was because she had made him to be the true villain in her mind-but she tried not to think about this and once more followed obediently.
They walked back out of his corridor and onto the hall with the colorful tapestries. Somewhere, a clock struck 13. Amber smiled faintly-at least the movie had gotten one thing right; the 13-hour timescale. She realized she hadn't seen a single goblin. She shrugged. It wasn't like she was really looking forward to an encounter of that nature, anyway. They stopped as he locked the door and placed the tiny silver key in a fold of his flowing navy cape somewhere-it was then she noticed his cape looked almost identical to her gown. She laughed imperceptibly at this realization, and felt more than ever there was another bit of the story that Hollywood had gotten right. But of course, she didn't let him know that.
He turned back to her, face solemn, and gave his first set of instructions, "As I told you, you are to meet me in the Right Room by the dawn of the Second Day. You remember my directions as to its location, I trust. This corridor is four floors up-it is unique in that it is the only one that has subtle difficulties, if any. Ah, and the most important advice I can give you now is something that should sound a bit familiar-'things aren't always what they seem, in this place'. Don't fall for 'Hollywood glamorie', as you described it. Good luck." He fought the strong urge to touch her-to shake her hand, to hug her, to kiss her, just to place a hand on her shoulder- though it took a lot of his resolve, he faded into the air and left her standing alone in the corridor with his feeble advice.
She felt a small knot of fear growing in the pit of her stomach-she was going to be alone. All alone. For a day-if she didn't run into trouble. She doubted she'd make any little allies to help her along on her journey. After all, she had made up her mind that half of Sarah's story was "glamorie". She couldn't help but talk to herself, "And once again, I am on my own. Well, I'm not going to save Asher if I stand around and daydream all day-er, night..."
With these last words, she walked on down the hallway. She suddenly wished she had a weapon, for who knows how much trouble she could run into here... especially, as Jareth had said, if the problems would be subtle...
She tried to push this out of her mind as she walked on, cautiously. The tapestries on the walls were rippling as if blown by a breeze, but none was to be felt. She wished she had something to tie her hair back with to keep it out of her face. There was a loose thread in her gown-she tugged it out and used it to tie back her hair. It was makeshift, but it served the purpose. There were no errant curls in her eyes as she scanned the corridor warily. There-there was a bulge behind the tapestry. And it was on the move, thankfully slowly. She tiptoed up beside it, and pushed against it with her hands, as she was unaware it if were friend or foe. The bulge moved, and an arm seemed to come free, a tiny knife slashed a rent in the tapestry so that a head of dark complexion, fair curls, and lavender eyes looked out upon her-Folk. Only the skin was as black as night, the curls were as white as paper, and the eyes were speckled with a pulsing electric blue.
"Lemme go!" the tiny Folk creature screamed-from its tone of voice, Amber knew it to be female.
"What are you doing?" Amber questioned the girl-for it looked to be young, as well.
"I's off to the Mound, gen'l business, just leave me to it!" the Folk girl said with a note of pleading.
"What's your name, eh?" Amber asked the girl.
"What's it to you, eh?" she replied mockingly.
"I've got your knife, eh." Amber said, calmly grabbing the Folk's knife and holding it to her throat.
"Eh... name's Keswyin. Gimme back my knife!" she shrieked.
"Ah... I think not. You're going to help me. Then I'll give you your knife." Amber smirked. Perhaps she would have a friend of sorts, after all. She corrected herself-another friend.
"Eh, don't need a knife. What else could ya gimme?" Keswyin gave Amber a smirk just as cunning as her own had been.
Amber shrugged, "Oh, I dunno-I could whittle you a hickory whistle. Kinda primitive, but it makes music, and we're bound to come across a hickory tree before this is over with-and if we don't, I could manage it out of other wood."
Keswyin furrowed her brow in thought. She seemed to be weighing choices to see which was the greater good-or evil. She nodded, "Alright. But I don't see what help I could be to ya."
Amber nodded, "All I really need right now is a guide, of sorts. Get me down to the first level of this place. I'll let you know more then."
"I dun need no details. By the way, girl, what's your name?" Keswyin asked, businesslike in manner.
"My name?-Amber." She told her plainly.
"Eh, ain't got no ring to it-and I dun think I could pronounce it, b'sides. How 'bout a new name?-From now on, you're...ehm... Lokiinlt, aight?" Keswyin prompted.
"Alright, Keswyin." Amber nodded, and loosed her grip on the Folk girl, who slid out from under the tapestry to step in front of her. Keswyin snapped, and she changed herself to a girl a little taller than Amber, with the same white hair-but braided and long, now. She was clothed, Amber noticed, in a short, plain dress that looked to be made of cobweb, belted with a length of woven grasses, and was bare-footed. She retained her sable skin and speckled eyes.
"I though' ya migh' feel more comfor'ble with me if I were a bit more like you." Keswyin explained, walking on down the corridor. Amber followed, convinced now that 'glamorie' was a powerful force in her world, indeed.
:~:*^*:~:
NEXT CHAPTER: THIRD FLOOR CORRIDOR-HEH, ANOTHER HARRY POTTER TERM-BUT IT DOESN'T HOUSE A THREE-HEADED DOG! WHAT DANGER AWAITS OUR HEROES? YOU'VE GOTTA READ THE NEXT CHAPTER TO FIND OUT!