Drabble #246: Steel
Monday, 26 January 2026 10:47![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jalenstrix in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
labyfic...we had a nice response to my last posted drabble prompt of Drabble 241, with delightful entries by
redwolf and me (jalenstrix), one your intrepid drabbler proposers, as well as commenting by us both. Huzzah!As always (always!!), special labyfic love to
redwolf for adding entries and comments for several previous drabble prompts. Onward, laby drabblers, onwards -- may our fabulous redwolf continue to lead us forth!For this prompt, we continue with our one-word/phrase drabble roots:
Steel
Is this steel physical, emotional, psychological, metaphysical, all of the above, or something else entirely? Who's involved? What exactly is all the steel about anyway? Tell us all about it. Labyfic-style, of course.
Given our entries from recent months, let's continue with the suggested limit for this month 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 aim to get my next drabble challenge out on the last Monday of next month (Feb 23).
I'm also very happy to take suggestions if something in particular strikes your fancy -- comment on this post or PM me with your suggestions. 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.)
Communion
2026-02-02 18:51 (UTC)It was the little rituals in the time she found to decompress from the work day and just settle that Sarah appreciated.
Reading something light helped the transition, so she was curled up in a chair in the library working her way through a trashy romance novel that Bishop had recommended. While theoretically she could see the advantages of a harem of men catering to the needs of one woman, she shuddered at the thought of the logistics of catering to more than one man in her life.
Bishop had moved onto a different trope, but Sarah just couldn’t suspend her belief enough to accept that the main character was interacting with someone so beyond their strata for altruistic reasons. Now if he could find a variant where the wealthy character’s assets were redistributed to the community, she might have more interest.
Taking a sip of her tea, she glanced at Jareth over the rim of her cup. He was stretched out on a lounge, one arm flung over his eyes. He gave every indication of being asleep, aside from the hand gripping Rook’s shoulder.
Rook was the anomaly in Sarah’s evening of domestic normality. The woman radiated tension. Sarah’s initial reaction in the past had been to discuss the issue, but Jareth had gently discouraged that in favour of letting Rook work through her own rituals.
Rook was sitting on the floor, leaning back against Jareth’s chair. An unreasonably large collection of knives were at her side. Sarah had watched as the woman had walked into the room and silently started to remove the arsenal from her coat. She still couldn’t believe it was possible to carry that much weight without destroying the structural integrity of the garment.
After a comically long disarming routine, Rook was now methodically sharpening her blades with a whetstone. It was an oddly calming sound, but Sarah expected it was not the sound that Rook was using to exorcise her demons.
While this wasn’t a common occurrence, it had happened enough that it had become part of Sarah’s normal. Rook would slowly sharpen all her knives and would then stow them back in her coat. Usually, by the time she’d worked through her arsenal, she had calmed down and would quietly retire for the evening. She didn’t want to talk to people, but she needed to be near people when she’d had a bad day, and Sarah could respect that.
She sometimes wondered how her life had become evenings of smutty book recommendations from one shapeshifter, while another was working through her issues by making sharp implements even sharper, but then she looked at Jareth and knew that she wouldn’t trade whatever passed for a regular family evening Above for anything.
All families had quirks and it was quieter than having a family member who drunkenly yelled at televised sportsball events, so she’d take sullen silence over inebriated obsession. It might be weird, but it was the little rituals that held a family together.
no subject
2026-02-13 21:07 (UTC)Jareth leaned against the balustrade of the bridge like he’d personally invented metal, moonlight, and mocking mirth. His gaze skimmed me—boots, knife at my belt, the steel buckle I’d fixed with my own hands after it snapped on the run. “I see you’ve brought… hardware.”
The edges of my lips quirked up in that particular way I’d begun to mimic from him. “I brought a spine,” I said. “The rest is decorative, but handy.”
He laughed—soft, delighted. “Sarah. Always so practical. Tell me, why did you come all this way?”
“I came to parlay.”
He took a slow step closer. The air seemed to tighten, like invisible wire. “You wore steel for this.”
My smile sharpened. “I wore steel because your labyrinth has an unhealthy relationship with falling rocks,” I said. “Also, you have an unhealthy relationship with boundaries.”
Jareth’s gloved fingers tapped the bridge railing in a patient, predatory rhythm. “Boundaries are simply doors that haven’t learned to open.”
“My boundaries are doors with deadbolts,” I said. “And I have the key.”
He looked positively approving. “I do so enjoy a challenge.”
I snorted softly. “Don’t I know it.”
His laughter slid across my skin again like chainmail made sound. “Perhaps I enjoy watching you refuse me.”
“Strange hobby, but who am I to judge?”
“Is it so strange?” He leaned in, close enough that I could smell leather and winter and something bright as struck flint. “You come back, Sarah. Tell me that isn’t a kind of magnetism.”
“It’s a kind of stubbornness,” I said.
His smile turned dangerous. “Stubbornness is simply desire wearing armor.”
I inclined my head. “Maybe it is.”
For a beat, the Labyrinth itself seemed to listen. Then the metal beneath our feet sang—metal remembering it was once liquid and fire and possibility. The bridge shimmered, not changing shape but admitting it had always been changeable.
Jareth arched an eyebrow in approval. “Well played.”
“Aiming to learn from the best.”
“Careful, Sarah. Steel can cut both ways.”
I held his gaze. “That’s why I want to learn how to hold it properly. Teach me?”
no subject
2026-02-13 21:29 (UTC)Re: Communion
2026-02-24 05:30 (UTC)no subject
2026-02-24 05:31 (UTC)Re: Communion
2026-02-24 06:25 (UTC)