Drabble #189: Trail

[redwolf]

...we had a nice response to the drabble prompt of Drabble 188, with entries by apachefirecat and redwolf and comments by apachefirecat and redwolf

For this prompt, we continue with our one-word/phrase drabble roots:

Trail

Tell us all about it. Labyfic-style, of course.

Given our entries from recent months, let's continue with the suggested limit of 500 words. Though remember that shorter pieces are most definitely welcome!

Your entry should take the following format, posted as a comment on this entry:

Word count: # of words
$your_beautiful_drabble

I'll be running weekly challenges in the space around jalenstrix's monthly challenges.

You can see our current collected suggestions here.

Remember: Feedback is LOVE. So do reply to your fellow labyficcers' drabbles if so inclined. (Though be careful of concrit unless specifically okayed by the author beforehand. Authors generally write for love.)

Comments

Curlicue

[redwolf]

Sarah had initially dismissed the sock wearing goblin when they’d first crossed paths, but as they seemed to be stumbling over each often enough times that it was unlikely to be a circumstance of chance, she finally gave into curiosity.

“Kingy borrow.” Sarah frowned at the goblin’s answer, which did little to enlighten her. It took her several minutes of trying to rephrase her query in a manner that made sense to both parties. Although she didn’t think the elaborate game of charades that had accompanied their discussion had actually helped.

Sarah had managed to determine that Jareth had borrowed the goblin’s helmet and that Rook had provided the sock he was currently wearing as a placeholder. The logic of how the goblin understood the concept of a placeholder, but could only convey the reason for the temporary trade as pretty, was baffling to Sarah.

She was about to question the goblin further when several others arrived to admire the sock and the discussion devolved beyond all sense.

With a sigh, Sarah placed her hand against the wall and asked the Labyrinth for Jareth’s location. Not being too surprised to learn he was in his studio, she headed in his direction.

When Sarah entered the studio she found Jareth and Rook working together, which was not unusual. What was unexpected was that their canvas was the goblin’s missing helmet.

She watched as they worked on opposite sides of the helmet, mirroring each other’s movements as they painted elaborate pinstripes and curlicues across the surface. As motorcycle tanks were thin on the ground locally, their choice of a different canvas suddenly made sense. It was metal and relatively smooth, even if it was a kitchenware item of dubious provenance that had been fashioned into headwear.

Sarah wasn’t certain if they had discussed their design plans before commencing, but they both finished with neat flourishes and stood back to examine their work. Provided you ignored the object itself, the artwork was gorgeous, with complex pinstriped details in a gradient of purples through yellows that evoked a fire motif.

With a grin, Jareth snapped his fingers and a flash of glitter cascaded over the helmet. “Enamel takes forever to dry,” he explained in response to a queried look, then held out a hand. “Join us?”

Sarah took Jareth’s hand and the three of them materialised in a hallway. The sock wearing goblin came scampering over, returning the placeholder before accepting its newly decorated helmet with great ceremony.

“Kingy and Puppy made hat flamey.” The little goblin looked delighted, although it did seem to be just as happy about the sock, so Sarah wouldn’t peg it as a discerning art critic. Still, a happy recipient was always appreciated.

While she wasn’t a painter, Sarah could appreciate the artistry involved in the pinstriping and while she didn’t think the technique would work with slip, she wondered if she could get a similar result in ceramics. It certainly gave her ideas she was eager to try.

The Way Back

[apachefirecat]

Word Count: 500



She awoke, a silent scream lodged in her throat and lightning cutting in through her open, bedroom window. She sat up, and for a moment, her world spun. She couldn't quite tell where she was, differentiate fact from fiction, dream from reality, past from present. For a moment, she thought she heard the frantic beatings of an owl's wings against her window, but that was impossible. Ever since the one time she'd spotted him, back before his subjects had suddenly stopped visiting her, Sarah had left her bedroom window open for that very reason.

She wiped tears from her eyes, realizing she'd been crying again in her sleep. Her throat burned, and she knew she'd been calling his name out again, begging for him to return and take her from this world, take her back to the world where she belonged, in the Goblin City, with him. Blindly, she reached for the cup of water she kept beside her bed for this very reason. It cooled her throat but otherwise did nothing to ease her pain. It would be so easy to just drink her cares away -- she had found that enough liquor eventually silenced all thoughts --, but dulling her mind would not pave her way back to him.

She had to fight. She had been given the first choice easily enough. She'd even tried offering other babies, but that did not seem to work. Nothing she had tried thus far had reopened the Labyrinth, but maybe she was getting close to the right trail. Maybe that's why they had stopped visiting -- and she knew they had for, even when she woke from nightmares now, she no longer heard the telltale scampering of the little creatures who accompanied him, their King, her King.

She had dreamed of him again. She always dreamed of him. He might have left her in every other way, but each time she shut her eyes, she was either adorned with memories or accosted by the thoughts of what might never be again, or what might have followed his descent. She'd had no choice then but to turn him away, but she would find her way back to him. She would make him understand that she had done all she had done, that she had denied his every offer, not because she did not believe in him, did not want to love him, feared him, but because her baby brother's very life had depended on it.

She wondered, not for the first time, if Jareth himself had been a babe thrown to the Goblins, someone for whom his sister had failed to fight. There were so many questions still unanswered, but Sarah knew one thing for certain: She'd keep fighting. She'd keep fighting until she made it back to him, and then, if it took it, she'd fight to stay beside him. Tossing off her covers, she headed back to the ancient tomes that awaited her. One night, she'd find the way back to him.


The End