I do not own the Labyrinth or its denizens.
My Beta nothingnothingtralala has cast her magick here again (oh yes, with a 'k' - because I know she'd raise her eyebrows over that *wink*)
Sarah lay on the under-stuffed chaise staring at the ceiling in a near stupor. She hadn't thought the night could get any worse, yet here she was, in the company of the Goblin King – and very much in his power, if she wasn't mistaken.
What's the good of him having no power over me if I'm handing it to him on a silver platter?
"You cannot delay the inevitable Sarah," came the singsong voice of the Goblin King.
Rather than turn towards his gloating smile she continued to wallow in her own stupidity. The longer she refused to accept the inevitable, she reasoned, was longer she could escape reality. With a sigh, she closed her eyes and tried to enjoy how the cushioned fabric beneath her body held her comfortably, but since it didn't, the exercise was rather futile.
"I don't want the wish," she said. Not particularly talking to him, but rather airing the thought aloud.
"Yet the wish has been made," he said quietly, with all the finality of an executioner.
"I didn't really say the exact words," she protested. "I didn't say I wish." From the corner of her eye she could see him shrug off her complaint.
"Semantics," he argued. "Whoever said the magic words were that narrow? You voiced the wish aloud." He grinned wolfishly as she twisted her head to regard him. "Besides, you did say I wish, it drew me here remember? You had already started the wish; now you have finished it, the bits in between don't matter."
There wasn't much arguing with that, Sarah supposed.
She had said I wish, and she had voiced a wish; no matter how you looked at it a wish had been made eventually.
"Poor really though, wasn't it?" suggested the Goblin King. "I guess that comes with not putting much thought into it."
A glimmer of outrage lit Sarah's insides for a moment as she turned herself in the chair to stare the Goblin King down.
"I'm terribly sorry my wish isn't to your liking," she growled. "What exactly were you expecting?"
The Goblin King leaned forward on the bed until his face was at the same height as hers.
"Not much I'll grant," he baited. "Not from someone who goes around wishing away children."
Sarah felt her face burn with indignation as she remained silent. He was right, but he didn't need to rub it in her face.
"Many people make foolish wishes, it's not like genies are popping up all over the place to grant them," she finally reasoned. "Besides, I was just a child."
"GENIES?" spat the Goblin King in outrage. "Is that what you think I am Sarah – that you rubbed your magic…" the Goblin King waved the water bottle violently with his hand, "drink and I appeared to grant you three wishes?"
Sarah forced a hoarse laugh as she watched his growing ire; there was nothing vaguely magical about a 600ml water bottle and the very thought sent her into near hysterics.
"Actually I wished upon a star, but somehow I doubt you're the Blue Fairy," she countered. She heard his snort of irritation and enjoyed the short lapse of silence that followed. She doubted he understood the Disney reference, but was sure that the maliciousness in her voice had driven the point home. As the silence stretched out, she unintentionally voiced the question she had long pondered after the Goblin King had first appeared to her all those years ago.
"Why are some wishes granted but others are overlooked?" For a while she thought he might not answer, she almost hoped he hadn't heard. As she listened to his steady breathing she turned her face back towards the ceiling and felt a burning need to know growing within her. "Was my wish granted because I said The Right Words?"
"What Right Words?" he asked.
"That I wi…" Sarah stopped, snapping her teeth together violently. "Oh, nice try Goblin King, I won't make the same mistake twice in one night." She could hear his throaty chuckle from the bed as he enjoyed her anger. "Was it because I said the words from the book?"
The Goblin King's mirth transformed into a deep growl at her suggestion and there was a sudden indelible tension in the air around them.
"There are several factors for wishes," he finally explained, his voice short. "Need is one, greed is another; belief or some form is also necessary when forming the wish. In the end the ultimate decision lies with the granter. Some we can pick from, others we are compelled towards, but it is our choice to take the wish or leave it." When Sarah turned back towards him she was surprised to see his face was slightly more open, as if he gazed inwardly rather than outward as he made the explanation. It made her want to study him intently, as if this might be her only chance to make him out while his defences were fractured by the question. "The pull of your original wish was quite compelling. I was listening out for your wishes after that. It's unusual really; the nature of most wishes is greed based, but not with you. Your wishes are based on need." As his eyes regained focus and met Sarah's, coldness clamped back over his features and he regarded her coolly. "Why didn't you wish to escape?" he asked seriously.
Sarah smiled at him and wondered if he would understand.
"For the same reason I didn't accept the dreams you offered me," she told him.
She could tell from his frown that the reasoning eluded him and always had. She wondered at that; had he never had anything important he wanted to protect? She felt foolish now that she had panicked when her luck had first run out. How could she have ever thought she could leave this place? It was like her body had acted on its own, flight over fight, self-preservation. What if she had succeeded, wouldn't Carl simply go after her family again? She didn't want to be a selfish person anymore. She had sworn to herself years ago when she had returned from the Labyrinth with Toby that she would never think only of herself, and yet tonight she had almost undone it all as soon as she had lost hope. She could argue that she was only being sensible; Irene would have taken Toby somewhere safe by now, wouldn't she? However, somehow she knew that Irene wouldn't leave Robert, and he would wait for Sarah, believing until the end that she could make it right. The power of belief: it sat heavily upon her as she watched the Goblin King. Did it ever weigh heavily upon him?
"What will you take for my wish Goblin King?" she finally asked him, watching him blink in surprise as she returned to the subject closest to his heart.
"What indeed," he sighed. "What will you give me, Sarah? Something broken? Something unwanted? The limitations on the trading my position allows are so very tedious."
He smiled bitterly and his sharp teeth flashed in the dull glow of the room.
"How about your father this time?" he proposed.
Sarah swallowed a heavy lump in her throat.
Something unwanted…
He was joking, she was almost sure he was, but somehow the suggestion had hit too close to home. It was like him to be cruel, to play on the fact that it wouldn't be the first time she had forfeited a family member, but now she was here for her family. If something was unwanted it was her, abandoned to this place by her father. She felt so betrayed by him that the Goblin King's suggestion was far too close to her inner thoughts, and it frightened her.
"How about this?" she croaked. Reaching into the neckline of her sun dress, she drew out the white gold locket which usually sat snugly against her breast. It had been a gift from her father on her seventeenth birthday. Little filigree etched leaves circled the engraving on the front; 'Lucky Sarah', it read. Inside she had placed a picture of her mother on one side, and on the other a family photo of Irene, Toby, her father and herself. She could not trade her father, but she could trade this in his place to abate her anger and sorrow. The thought was soothing somehow; as if the pendant could take the blame for all that had happened. As the 'Lucky Sarah' engraving caught the light, a jolt of pain lanced through her and she quickly snapped the catch on the back of the necklace open and drew it away from her neck. She thrust it towards the Goblin King as an offering.
Smiling lazily, the Goblin King regarded the locket from his sitting position.
"You're sure this is unwanted?" he asked.
She nodded her consent and tried to ensure her hand was not shaking as she held it out to him.
"A completely unimportant item?" he insisted.
"It holds sentimental value only," Sarah assured him.
"And sentimentality is worth nothing?"
"Not to me, not right now," she replied grimly, as her fingers loosened on the chain.
The Goblin King stretched out his gloved palm and held in beneath the locket, as if to catch it when she released it. Hesitating, she glanced down at his palm and, rather than dropping the locket, brought her hand down to place it gently in his outstretched hand. As her fingers brushed across his she could hear their combined intake of breath at the contact.
Blinking up at him she saw her surprise reflected in his face.
"I can touch you," she said in wonder.
"So it would seem," he agreed. His poker face returned as he brushed his gloved fingers across the spot where their hands had touched before turning his attention to the necklace.
"But you cannot touch me," Sarah assured herself.
"Quite," he bit out. Distracted, he flicked the locket open and stared at the tiny images within before closing it again and gripping it tightly in his palm.
He didn't know.
She could touch him, but for some reason he could not touch her, and he hadn't known that. Sarah wondered if he had any idea of the limitations of having no power over her; she had power over him, it seemed. As much power as any mortal could have over an ethereal, powerful, immortal being of course, which wasn't much, she figured.
"So what happens now?" she asked. Sitting up, Sarah tried to arrange herself comfortably on the chaise, wondering if such a thing was even possible.
"Now I grant the wish," he shrugged, tucking the necklace into the fold of his shirt.
"So you'll change these scratch cards into winners?"
"No," he said. Sarah nearly bit her tongue in surprise as he eyes flicked up to his face, trying to understand his denial. He rolled his eyes at her, obviously sensing her discontent. "Change is impossible," he told her. "I don't know what the genies told you, but that's not how magic works, or rather not how my magic works anyway. It's only giving and taking; one thing cannot become another thing."
"Then how will you grant my wish?" cried Sarah. She could feel cold panic rising within her again and cursed her own stupidity. Why had she been foolish enough to make a wish?
"Patience, precious," he sighed. "First you don't want the wish and now suddenly you're impatient. I will simply take the scratch cards you do not want and give you the scratch cards you require."
Sarah felt the terror within her drop away as if he had thrown cold water over her. She bit her lip and reasoned that a wish working in this way made perfect sense. He would, in essence, be swapping the cards over with other cards, winning cards. The realisation made her frown.
"Where will the other cards come from?" she asked.
"From winners obviously," he drawled.
Obviously…
"Yes, but how will you know that they are winners?"
The Goblin King smirked and lifted a sculpted eyebrow in her direction.
"Does it really matter, Sarah?" he drawled.
Sarah didn't even need to consider his question. Of course it mattered. When dealing with the Goblin King these sorts of things definitely mattered.
"Yes," she told him. She worried that he might not reply. It wasn't like she could force him to tell her all the specifics of how the wish would be granted after all; she had no doubt their contract was limited only to the wishing and the granting.
The Goblin King groaned and made an exasperated face at her.
"I have the power to reorder time, Sarah," he pointed out. "Obviously such a thing is useless if I can't see where I'm reordering time to. I can see the past and future of many things." Instinctively, he raised a gloved hand to his eye and placed it gently over his fully dilated pupil.
Sarah tilted her head to one side, considering this for a moment. "Then you can see my future?" she asked.
He gave her a long suffering look and rubbed a tired hand across his face. "No."
"But…" Sarah began, she caught his warning look. "Oh right, the 'power over me' thing." His mouth had settled into a firm line and she knew not to push the subject any further. "So you'll be taking the scratch cards from people who would have won and replacing them with my losing cards," she mused, changing the subject.
"Yes," he agreed.
Sarah wondered if it was odd to feel a little bit guilty. Technically she was changing the lives of others, taking something that was rightfully theirs. She knew, though, that the inner battle she waged was of little import now. The wish had been made and the price paid, it would play out no matter how much she beat herself up about it.
"Could we…" she began. Lost, she glanced over at the Goblin King, who had now moved to the head of the bed. He was leaning his head back against the head rest, his half-lidded eyes fixed on her, his expression remote. "Could we just take one big win, make the rest really small? It's not right to take other people's fortune. Though I might need the win much more than they do right now, but in the end who am I to make that call? I don't want to take more than is needed to get through this safely."
The Goblin King ran his tongue along his sharp teeth and he pursed his lips as if to say something. Shaking his head, he seemed to change his mind and looked away from her.
"Bring those scratchy paper things here, Sarah," he commanded.
Obediently, she peeled herself off the chaise, wondering what he had made of her request. He had every right to ignore it; she had carelessly started trying to add clauses to a wish which, for all intents and purposes, was already made. She realised her hands were shaking slightly as she bent to pick up the scratch cards from the carpet. Breathing deeply, she steadied one hand on the plush rug beneath her and gripped the cards tightly in the other. Pushing herself up with her palm and onto her feet, she walked calmly across to the bed and sat down next to the Goblin King, laying the cards down on the space between them. Only the hammering of her heart would have betrayed her, but thankfully it remained locked in her chest, hidden from the creature before her.
Suddenly, the Goblin King's armed snaked out towards her and instinctively she pulled back, losing balance on the edge of the bed. She saw his eyes open in surprise as he reached to steady her and missed, despite being perfectly on target. It was the oddest thing, like oil sliding off the surface of water, as if Sarah's body repelled him.
No power to touch…
She hadn't been sure quite how it would manifest, or whether she would ever see it manifested, but now for some reason she felt an odd pang at the restriction. Possibly because she was now lying at an odd angle on the floor, her back a bundle of jagged nerves and her feet still stuck in the air at crooked angles after the fall. Groaning, she brought her legs down and lifted herself up onto her elbows. The Goblin King was leering down at her from the edge of the bed, shuffling the scratch cards with a lofty expression.
"I was merely trying to look at the back of your hand, precious," he explained simply.
Sarah sat up and looked down at her own hands questioningly. On the back of her right hand was an ugly, red burn mark from Cindy's cigarette. She was surprised it didn't hurt more; she had barely noticed it.
"Oh," she said, finally recognising it.
"Oh," mimicked the Goblin King with a wry smile.
"It's nothing," she explained, rubbing the back of her hand protectively. Clearing her throat awkwardly she stood again and, rising the meet the challenge in his eyes, and neatly took her seat again next to him.
"I've seen nothing," he frowned. "That's not it. That is most decidedly something." Leaning back against the wall, Sarah closed her eyes and sighed exhaustedly. When she opened them again it took all of her willpower to remain still and composed; the Goblin King was leaning down towards her with a predatory look in his eyes. "Tell me about the something, Sarah, and we will make a deal," he offered.
"What sort of deal?" yawned Sarah, she hadn't realised how tired she was before. It seemed like all her energy had simply ebbed away as soon as she had settled herself comfortably on the bed.
"I will grant the wish the way you want it, one big win, just enough to get you through safely as you requested. The rest will be small gains."
Sarah sat up, blinking groggily. It was more than she had hoped for; she couldn't see the downside to the bargain. Glancing at the Goblin King from the corner of her eye she couldn't see any obvious signs of trickery, but then, if he were the sort to be obvious about these things she wouldn't have had to worry in the first place.
"There was a woman named Cindy here earlier," she explained. "She burned me with her cigarette to take the first pile of scratchies from me."
There was no harm in telling him; she hadn't really revealed much of the situation to him besides. She wasn't even keeping it from him with a particular purpose in mind; it was just that retelling it all was like reliving it again.
"Is that so," he murmured. "Precious, is it just my imagination or are you being kept prisoner here?"
Sarah cocked her head at him and raised her eyebrow defiantly.
"How astute of you. It is nicer than an oubliette, wouldn't you say?" she quipped.
"Is it?" he asked seriously, his lips pulled in a tight scowl. "No accounting for taste I guess."
She couldn't help the laugh that slipped out then. It felt good to laugh naturally, as if the events of the day were unimportant to her. She wiped her tired eyes with the back of her hand and looked up to see him watching her again with a measured gaze.
"Why didn't you wish to escape?" he asked again forcefully. As if desperate for the truth behind the answer, the reasoning behind why she wouldn't set herself free.
"For Toby," she answered wearily. "For my family. I am here to keep them safe. They would have taken him but instead I told them to take me. If I should escape now, if I were to make that wish then what have I been working for today? All I had to do to remain free was nothing. I would never have come here, I would never have made a wish, but I could never have lived with myself either."
It took the Goblin King a moment to digest these facts. He regarded Sarah with an intensity that made her feel uncomfortable.
"So by extension, when granting your wish, I am also saving Toby this time?" he queried.
Sarah bit back a smile of surprise at his odd interpretation.
"Are you declaring yourself the antihero of the piece?" she asked.
"Hardly," he snorted. "But Sarah, remember this, remember that I was generous with your wish in the future. No matter what comes of your wish I hope you can remember that much at least."
Surprised, Sarah opened her mouth to ask him what he meant and stopped.
He was gone. The shining scratch cards had disappeared with him.
The bed next to her was bereft in his absence as she rolled over into his space. It felt odd to lie where he had just been, the covers still slightly warm to the touch from his presence. She did not feel frightened or alarmed, she felt at peace. He would return to fulfill the wish; she knew that to be truth, although his odd last words had unsettled her slightly with their mystery. Lying comfortably on the firm mattress, she knew it should be impossible to sleep in such circumstances: every fibre of her being told her such a thing would be unachievable. And yet, as she felt her breathing quiet and her eyes become heavy, she let everything slip away. Today she had experienced so many impossibilities that sleep was just one more.
When she dreamed, she dreamed of the Labyrinth.
She stood on the hill overlooking the goblin city in the distance. The landscape felt dry and arid but there was a fresh fragrance in the air that made her smile. Before her stood the Goblin King, elaborately dressed. A dark cloak of feathers twirled in an imagined breeze and the cuffs of his boots had intricate patterns embossed into the soft leather. Around his throat hung a runic looking pendant, curved like the point of an arrow, which draped down to rest low on his chest. It seemed as though threads of gold hung amongst his star-spun hair, catching the light at strange angles and reflecting it back into her eyes. His hands were busy, and she tried to focus on what it was that seemed to have claimed his attention. As she recognised the snake in his palms, he flung it towards her with a contemptuous bark of triumph. Raising her arms to protect herself, she heard the creature land at her feet and instinctively she shied away. Stepping backwards, she searched desperately, trying to locate the errant serpent.
On the ground in front of her lay her locket.
Looking closer, she realised with wonder that there was no snake; she had been mistaken. Squatting down, she picked up the locket and dusted it off. Standing again, she realised that the Goblin King was no longer here, and she looked toward the Labyrinth wondering if she would find him in the goblin city. Undoing the catch on the locket, she idly slipped it back around her neck and felt its reassuring weight fall back into the familiar hollow of her throat. As she took a step down the hill, towards the entrance to the Labyrinth, she felt the chain of the pendant at her throat tighten. Reaching up to loosen the chain, she felt it undulate under her hand and squeeze her neck so tightly that spots swam in front of her eyes.
It was only then that she realised that it had always been a snake.
As she fought to breathe, clawing at her throat, she could hear the Goblin King's voice on the wind. "Remember that I was generous, precious," he laughed, and the darkness drew her in.
Groggily, Sarah woke to a shaft of sunlight glancing in from the small hotel room window. She had forgotten to turn off the room light last night and it still burned on, dwarfed and overpowered now by daylight. As she rolled onto her side sleepily, she felt the cool touch of something foreign beneath her cheek. Blearily, she pushed it aside to remove the discomfort and fell back asleep, her hand placed possessively over the scratch cards, now lying by her bedside in the morning light.
Oh dear I hope this chapter isn't disappointing, not much has happened but I promise this is all building up to something. I have finished the outline of the story so I have the definite direction but I'm not sure how long it will take for everything to play out, perhaps I'm enjoying writing the dialogue between J/S a little too much...
Thank you as always everyone for your support and reviews, I get very excited reading them and feel all fired up to write more!
Kaytori: Well there it, albeit flimsy? I was actually planning for this conversation to take place in the next chapter but your comment prompted me to put it in sooner. I think the longer I leave it the more out of place it might have seemed after the actual events, I'm not sure if it was done smoothly - the whole chapter feels a bit rough *tugs hair*
I'm glad you enjoyed the humor! Although it's a serious enough story I like to inject it where I can, but like anyone writing comedic portions I always wonder - is this funny or is it just that I think it's funny?
I always appreciate your commentary!
Wudelfin:It's so interesting to see every readers interpretation of Robert, I think to me he was only the means to an end (to set up the story as it were) but I almost feel it's a pity if I don't revisit him with the ghost of Christmas past to make something of him. We haven't seen the last of him, but to be honest I'm not quite sure what to do with him yet.