Another short one. I'm not sure if this would be a one-shot or a drabble. Didn't edit this. Besides, I doubt anyone will read this. If you do:D Please review
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His
Regret.
Such a wonderfully mortal thought. Certainly not something I of all people should think of.
Yes. I do consider myself a person, regardless of those other myths circulated about me. I am quite human; but certainly not mortal.
Mortality.
Something I can never, and never will, understand. But she knew of it so well. She didn't know it, but it was in her smile, the tilt of her head. The way she threw herself into anything that struck her fancy.
Ah yes, my perfect mortal:
Sarah Williams.
Fate must have been playing a cruel joke on me when they put her in my hands. Of course, I had to play into my role of Goblin King; pity, she never did see the man behind the King.
. . .
I suppose she never will.
Hers
A world of fairy tales and dreams was what I longed for. It's not what I got.
I got a King, not a Prince; dark and cruel; generous and kind. I wasn't prepared for what he offered me: dominion over a world of dreams.
I wanted to live in a dream, not rule one.
I laugh at the cruelness of it all. I refused him. Flat out rejection, and now I am here: waiting for a wish that will not be spoken. I do not have the courage to take that final step. To utter the words that will lead me towards an endless dream… or nightmare.
Life's not fair. It just is. If it was, I'd be Princess, and he a glamorous White Prince. But it's not. I'm no longer a Princess; I'm a peon to his nobility. A foolish girl who refused the gift of a lifetime.
I should have read deeper into his words. If I had, I might have realized love was something new to him too. But I didn't; I was too absorbed in my dream. Maybe waiting will turn out well; we'll both know the pain of parting and eventually, the joy of reunion.
If only I'd say the words. But I don't. Because I'm a coward.
I've written countless books, done art, all for the Labyrinth. All for him. All this time I've been a slave to a memory and unspoken wish. I've created a sound foundation of belief in dreams for the next generation, won numerous awards and acclaim—"bright and innocent in the beginning, and then dark, angsty, full of unspoken regret"—and still retained my anonymity under a penname.
My stories involve a young heroine and her adventures against and for a Goblin King, her life, her regrets. I've also written a series of short stories. Now, I have finished my last novel. I know it is my last because I have finished.
I am done.
I look down at the advance copy on my desk. I read the final words on the page:
"I wish Jareth would come and take me away. Right now."
I smile. They're not just my words anymore, they're his.