Drabble #78: Hopeful
Friday, 1 March 2019 09:47![[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 quieter response to the drabble prompt of Drabble 77, with an entry by me (your intrepid drabble proposer
jalenstrix). For this prompt, we continue with our one-word drabble roots, with a word evocative of many different scenarios:
Hopeful
Who's hopeful? About what? There are so many possibilities. Tell. Us. About it. Labyfic-style.
Given our entries from recent months, let's continue with the 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
Drabble: $your_beautiful_drabble
I'll aim to get the next drabble challenge out on the first Friday of next month (Apr 5).
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.)
Drabble #78
2019-03-02 17:46 (UTC)406 words
It was a clock and nothing more, Sarah told herself as she stood in the drafty old foyer of an ancient hotel. Nothing about the place distinguished it from any other old hotel, but the clock had wings, its face reminded her of an owl. Owls reminded her of goblins and magic...and other things better left unexplored.
A bone-chilling breeze swept through the hall causing her to shiver. February was recently deceased and March had no problems stepping over its grave. This was one of the last cold days, spring was coming. Sarah was hopeful—full of sun and dreams of blooming things. She waited and listened to the ticking of the clock.
She’d only been trying to convince herself that it was merely a clock, that she wasn’t drawn to it, that she was hopeful that a little magic might dwell within this place if she withstood the chill long enough.
“That’s something I’ve always loved about you,” Jareth said. The foyer had been empty one minute and filled with Goblin King the next. His majesty was leaning against a doorway framed in early morning sunlight, the kind that filled you with awe somedays and broke your heart on others .
“And what’s that?” Sarah asked as her eyes roved over his lithe form. Today he was dressed for spring in green and gold—his hair reminded her of dandelion fluff. Could dandelion fluff be sexy? She supposed it could.
“I love the way the worlds bend for you. If you need a clock to be a talisman—it will be. If you’re pining for a certain ruler of fairy realms, he appears. Such power you have Sarah,” his voice was like the breeze in the hall, it pulled and pushed her, sent a shiver up her spine.
“And, whyever would you think that I’d been pinning after you?” Sarah felt a smile tug the corners of her mouth. “I wouldn’t call it pinning. I just wanted to know if you’d like to grab a coffee for old time’s sake. How long has it been? Seven years?” Sarah knew exactly how long it’d been. It had taken her this long to be brave enough to face him. Old enough to know what to do with him when she did.
“Coffee would be lovely,” Jareth stretched out his gloved hand and waited. “Of course, I choose the place,” he replied with a sharp toothed grin.
“Of course, your majesty,”
Re: Drabble #78
2019-03-04 15:44 (UTC)Re: Drabble #78
2019-03-04 16:41 (UTC)Re: Drabble #78
2023-03-14 10:18 (UTC)no subject
2019-03-13 18:05 (UTC)Drabble:
Silence stretched, thick and viscous.
Jareth leaned forward, moonlight highlighting sharp features. “Why I am here, Sarah? It’s not Scrabble night.”
I moistened my lips, trying to find the words.
He arched an eyebrow. “I just need you to tell me, Sarah. Plainly and simply.”
I closed my eyes and breathed out slowly. “I need you.” I scrounged for some courage, opened my eyes, and arched an eyebrow back at him. “Plain and simple enough?”
His eyes flashed. “But for what, hmmm?”
“I hear tell you have some skills with babies.”
He blinked, a measured lowering of eyelids that surely inspired trepidation in many a conversational companion. “And?”
I lifted my chin. “I want a child.”
That cracked a smile from him. “The last time we discussed children—“
“I know. I was fifteen and a brat and now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, I need your help to get a child.”
He tilted his head like a raptor. “For how long?”
“Forever.”
He tilted his head the other way. “In human form, I assume.”
“You assume correctly.”
There was that smile again. “You do realize my specialty is either temporary human possession or permanent goblin possession.”
“As you’re so fond of telling me, you’re a Faerie Lord. I’m quite sure you can manage if you really want to.”
Something unnameable swam through his eyes. “Your faith bolsters my spirit.”
I swallowed hard and held his gaze. “Jareth, please. Help me do this. Please.”
He moved in front of me, his eyes searching mine with acute interest. “I haven’t heard you beg in twenty years.”
“I’m begging now.”
“Why? What’s changed your mind so forcefully?”
My mouth tasted bitter. “Knowledge.”
“What kind?”
“Medical. I will never...be able to have my own children.”
His face could have been carved from stone. “Why not?”
“They had to...had to remove--“
He cut me off with a sharp gesture. “Why?”
“Because I’m broken, Jareth. Things were wrong and they were making me sick.”
He shook his head and moved his hands to stroke gently down my shoulders. “Your human butchery never ceases to amaze me. Why didn’t you ask me for help before you submitted to that abomination?”
“I didn’t think that medical miracles fell within your purview.”
“As you pointed out, I’m a Faerie Lord.” He leaned in until his breath was hot in my ear. “Have a little more faith.”
I snorted softly, trying not to feel the sting at the corners of my eyes. “Well, it’s too late now.”
“Is it?”
“Isn’t it?”
“Don’t you remember another of my specialties? About reordering time?”
“Can you do that in our world? I thought effects here were just illusion.”
“Have a little more faith.”
I blinked hard. “You mean that literally, don’t you?”
“And there’s my sharp little thinker.”
I felt the tears hot on my cheeks as I smiled. “I’d hit you, but Faerie Lords are so temperamental.”
“A little more faith, Sarah, a little more faith.”
no subject
2019-03-18 01:06 (UTC)no subject
2019-03-18 14:46 (UTC)no subject
2023-03-14 10:21 (UTC)Splat
2023-03-14 10:22 (UTC)Drabble:
Sarah sat on the training room floor and tried to bring her heart rate back under control. Bishop sat beside her looking just as wrung out as she felt.
“So that was the search and rescue team?”
Bishop’s lip curled in a half hearted attempt at a smile as he nodded his confirmation.
“Shouldn’t he have been based Above?”
“He was.”
Sarah’s eyes widened in shock to realise that the sound of distress Jareth had made had called someone from another realm. “That’s just, wow.” With what she’d felt, anyone in Jareth’s vicinity would have been rendered immobile and, if they were assessed as a threat, removed before they could respond. It was equal parts comforting and terrifying.
With a flick of her wrist, Sarah manifested a crystal and looked into it to see three people standing in the throne room, still holding each other. She couldn’t make out what they were discussing, but the throne room horde of goblins started chanting in excitement.
“What’s the splat game?”
“They need to burn off the adrenaline dump.” Sarah nodded in understanding, feeling that if she didn’t do the same, she would crash in the very near future. “They’re going to hunt the goblins through the Labyrinth.”
“Should I be concerned?”
Bishop snorted softly. “They use slingshots and something like paintballs. The goblins love the game. In fact.” Bishop stood and helped Sarah to her feet. “We should get to the throne room as we’ll be scorekeepers.”
They entered a surprisingly deserted throne room, just as a small goblin waddled into the room with a declaration of “King” and a bright purple splash of paint decorating its battered saucepan helmet.
Sarah looked into her crystal again and watched Jareth and the guardians run around the Labyrinth like excited children as they fired at goblins. “Are there rules?”
A goblin bearing a large orange splash to his chest rolled in with a cry of “Puppy”, followed by one who’s entire head was green.
“Pointy puppy?”
“Erich is a Mexican wolf.” Sarah blinked at the explanation, decided it was a question for another day and got down to the task of separating the goblins into colour groups before they licked the paint off each other.
“Wouldn’t it make more sense for them to hunt each other?”
With a laugh Bishop told Sarah that when they’d tried that, none of the paint had stuck to Jareth, despite him being hit repeatedly. This was compounded by Rook bearing traces of all the paint, including colours that weren’t even in play. “We managed to get her to wear white once and an hour later she was decidedly grey, distinctly mud splattered and had a two thumbed handprint on her thigh. We still have no idea where it came from as there are no creatures like that Underground.”
“Is she part goblin?” After her morning, it felt good to laugh aloud.
“Not according to any tests we’ve run, she just seems to attract mess like a small boy.”