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A barn owl soared along a current of wind, its large eyes scanning the terrain below. The sights Aboveground weren’t so bad; they offered a change of pace every now and then for the bored creature, anyhow. Spying a wooded area the owl tucked its wings, dipping down beneath the canopy of leaves. Talons stretched outward to grip a thin branch allowing the bird to glide to a silent landing midst the greenery.
The owl’s head turned in the direction of some distant noises, the inky pools of its eyes set within a white, heart-shaped face attempting to peer through the trees in the direction of the tell-tale sounds. Rumblings of engines and fading horns of motor vehicles suggested a certain surrounding. The disguised Goblin King knew he was in an area populated by humans; he had seen the neat rows of their dwellings from the sky.
Having been flying around for a good portion of the day and not particularly excited to get back to his cacophonous castle, Jareth allowed himself to get comfortable among the peace and protection of the trees. The wind blew through some leaves, parting them and allowing thin rays of the sun to pierce through. Gentle rustling of foliage coupled with the melodic birdsong proved to be an effective lullaby and it wasn’t too long before the owl was lulled into a slumber.
Unbeknownst to the napping creature, a shaggy beast was loping through the woods. With its snout lowered to the ground, the dog wove through the trees, snuffling and snorting through the sea of grass. In its excited exploration of a new patch, the canine caught scent of something, its eyes to follow as they lifted to some white thing above its head. Raising up onto its back haunches, the dog put his large paws against the tree, stretching to get a better look.
“Hello!” The beast shouted at his new feathery friend. Of course, he only spoke dog, so the word came out in the form of a sudden, powerful bark.
The abrupt sound met the owl’s ears harshly, its eyes flying wide. Wings fluttered rapidly in the bird’s startled state, causing the offending beast below to produce a series of full barks. Barks from which the Goblin King desperately wanted to separate himself; in addition to being frightened awake he was now as annoyed as ever. In a flurry of feathers the owl took flight, eschewing a careful takeoff in favour of getting away more quickly. As such, Jareth was unaware of nicking a pin feather on his wing as he leapt from the branch in a mad dash, until he felt the sting of air invade the broken shaft. In pain, he landed rather clumsily in another nearby tree, outstretching his injured wing as beads of scarlet began to stain the white feather.
The canine was close behind, keen on chasing his friend as he circled the owl’s new perch with more barking. Knowing that a broken blood feather could be harmful in his avian state, Jareth changed back into his true form, sitting astride the branch with his back against the trunk. The shaggy dog below hushed momentarily, tilting his head in surprise.
Carefully, Jareth pulled his loose sleeve over his right forearm to inspect the damage that had carried over from his avian form. It showed itself as a small gash halfway along on the inside of his forearm. Droplets of blood stood out against his pale flesh and he sucked in a quiet hiss of pain as a leather-clad finger of his other hand gingerly wiped them away.
“Talk about adding injury to insult…” the king muttered angrily. The cut was much less harmful in this state, reduced to hardly anything more than inconvenience, but regardless Jareth was none too happy that it had occurred. Not to mention his nap had been interrupted!
After processing what he had just seen, the dog quickly accepted that a person-thing was now in the tree and took to barking at him instead.
“Oh, be silent already, you mongrel!” Jareth snapped back, to no avail.
A slight rustling of leaves indicated another visitor, and the king was thankful that the voice that followed indicated a being of the non-canine variety.
“There you are, Merlin!”
A young girl jogged up to the dog, a long braid of dark hair bouncing at her back. Merlin happily circled his owner before running back over to the tree, leaping and pawing at it.
“What did you find, boy?” the girl asked, her curiosity piqued.
Following her dog, the girl peered upward into the leaves, her smile fading as a tall man stared back at her from his position on the branch.
Taking a step back, she eyed the man a bit nervously. It wasn’t uncommon for people to climb trees of course, but she had never seen someone quite so… otherworldly. Her burning curiosity kept her rooted in place, however, but she struggled to speak.
“Wh-wh…”
Lifting a brow, a corner of Jareth’s mouth threatened to curl up in amusement. “I wish your mutt were as tongue-tied as you, little girl.”
At this, the girl’s expression became offended. “He’s not a mutt!” Defending this point gave her a burst of courage and she stepped forward, folding her slender arms angrily about her chest and sticking her chin daringly up at the man. “And I’m not a little girl.”
“Is that so?” the fae intoned, taking note of her sudden brave stance now. “Well, he looks like a mutt. And you, my dear, look like a little girl.”
“Am not. I’ll be eight tomorrow,” she said matter-of-factly.
“Oh, well,” the king replied exaggeratedly. “My mistake. You are quite grown up. Now, if you’ll excuse me…” Swinging one leg over the branch to join his other, Jareth placed his palms against the rough bark and pushed himself off. Boots hit the ground with a thud as he crouched upon landing to lessen the impact of a jump that would have probably hurt a human, a simple fact which only interested the girl further.
Blinking, the girl studied the figure who was walking away, trying to make sense of what she assumed was a costume. Maybe he was going to a party? Realizing he was getting away, she ran to catch up with him, Merlin trailing just behind. “And,” she went on, walking briskly to keep up with the man’s stride. “My name isn’t ‘little girl’. It’s Sarah.”
Jareth glanced to his side at her but continued walking. “Didn’t your mum ever tell you not to talk to strangers?”
Sarah shrugged. “If she did, I definitely wouldn’t talk to you because you’re the strangest man I’ve ever seen.”
The king’s eyes widened and before he could retaliate, the girl spoke again.
“You are a man, aren’t you?” she asked with genuine curiosity.
At this, Jareth stopped in his tracks, taken aback at the question. His hands perched indignantly on his hips as he turned to face her. “Of course I’m a man, you silly girl.”
Sarah covered her mouth with her hand as she couldn’t help but giggle at his annoyed expression. It was then she took notice that one of his flowing sleeves was bunched up about his elbow, exposing the length of his forearm.
“Hey, why is your-” Stepping closer she discovered a cut on his arm where tiny droplets of blood were beginning to form along the surface once more. “You’re hurt!” She declared, as if informing him of something he didn’t know.
Jareth finally allowed a smirk to surface as he looked upon her wide eyes. “I’m aware,” he said rather flatly, pursing his lips and casting a glare to the canine who peered up sheepishly.
“Stay here.”
“It’s not that-” Before he could finish his sentence, the girl had whipped around and took off, darting through the trees. “…bad.”
With a sigh, Jareth glanced down to the beast called Merlin who sat down as if keeping a watch on him, although the king wasn’t sure how the creature could see much of anything with all that hair shielding his eyes.
Turning his back against a tree, Jareth sat down against it to inspect his arm once more. Plucking up a large leaf that was nearby, he used it to wipe away the small bit of blood that had risen from the cut. Merlin laid down with his head between his paws, a pitiful whine in his throat.
“If you’re trying to be cute, I’m afraid it isn’t working.”
The dog huffed at the king’s assessment before lifting his head, his ears perking as he heard his owner’s light steps rapidly approaching.
Sarah came to a stop before the man, looking down at him with a victorious smile where he sat, her cheeks flowered with pink from running.
“Here,” she said, extending a small, flimsy item.
Jareth’s brows knitted together as his gaze landed on the flat object. “What’s that?”
Sarah laughed, looking a bit confused at the odd man. “You don’t know what a band-aid is? You sure are weird, mister.”
Moving over to his side the girl knelt down, turning the brightly-coloured strip over to peel off the backing. After placing the discarded bits in her pocket to throw away later, she carefully held the bandage up between her thumbs and forefingers.
“Let me see your arm.”
The king played along, watching closely as Sarah slowly positioned the bandage over his cut, a look of concentration on her face as she lowered it in place. The tip of her tongue poked out in her concentration which coaxed a small smile from him.
“There!” Sarah smiled brightly.
Jareth tilted his head, squinting to get a better look at the little pattern on the pink bandage. “Who’s that?”
“Tinkerbell.”
“Tink-her-what?”
Another giggle escaped the girl. “No, Tinkerbell. That’s her name. She’s from one of my favourite stories.”
“Ah, so Sarah likes stories?” Jareth replied, pulling his sleeve back down to cover his arm.
“Yeah. Know any good ones?”
A smirk tugged at one side of the king’s lips as he regarded her a moment. Leaning back against the tree trunk Jareth lifted his hand as a crystal bloomed within his palm. With a fluid motion of his wrist he allowed the glass sphere to dance over his nimble fingers.
“Whoa!” Sarah’s attention was rapt on the shimmering orb. “What are you, a magician?” That would make sense, considering his fashion sense.
“Something like that,” the fae remarked. Stilling his hand he held the crystal atop his fingers, offering it to her. “Do you want it?”
The girl’s eyes widened slightly. “What is it?”
“It’s a gift,” Jareth smiled. “For healing me. Consider it a birthday present.”
Hesitantly, Sarah reached for the glittering sphere. Accepting it into her small hand she found it was cool to the touch with a fair amount of weight to it. She wasn’t sure of its purpose or if it even had one but that didn’t matter; it was at least pretty. Jareth watched as she studied it with wonder. Sarah’s attention was pulled from her gift when Merlin let out an audible yawn.
After casting a glance to her pet, Sarah looked up at the man. “I guess we should be getting home,” she said with a little chuckle before shifting to stand.
Jareth followed suit as the canine a few feet away sprang up and began heading out of the woods, happily anticipating his dinner that was on the horizon.
“Thank you,” Sarah smiled at the man, holding up the crystal to peer inside again.
“No, thank you.” Returning her smile, the king briefly held up his arm that had been injured before turning to walk in the other direction.
The girl took a tentative step after him, feeling like she ought to say something else; she still burned with questions about this odd fellow who was about to get away, and she would probably never see him again.
“Where are you going?” She called out, chewing her lip slightly. What if he were homeless? He was just hanging out in the trees, after all.
Stopping a moment, Jareth looked over his shoulder. “I’m going home, as well.”
Sarah was relieved to hear this, and smiling she turned a bit, holding her crystal up over her head to observe how the flecks inside caught the remaining light that seeped through the trees.
“Oh, where do you live?” she asked, stalling.
A few beats of silence passed before Sarah turned back around, her smile fading as the man had gone. Her gaze flicked around; she was about to call out his name when she realized she hadn’t even gotten it. Crestfallen, but realizing he was nowhere in sight, she gripped the glass sphere and decided to head home before it got too late.
- - -
Draped sideways in his throne, the Goblin King had pulled his sleeve over his forearm, tracing a glove-encased finger along the bandage.
“What’s that?” a shrill, croaking voice asked.
Jareth looked up to see a small goblin hanging over the curved backing of his grand chair, peering at the pink thing on his ruler’s arm.
“You don’t know what a band-aid is?” the fae sneered with arrogant air, curling his lip slightly as he yanked his sleeve back down to cover it. “Never you mind. Get back to work.” Snatching up the creature, Jareth flung him outward toward more of his peers, the goblin cackling all the way as if it were a fun ride.
- - -
Sarah lay in her bed, sleepily eying the crystal she had placed on her night stand. It seemed to glow in the pale moonlight and she focused on it until she fell into a deep slumber.
The next morning when Sarah awoke, the crystal was nowhere in sight but it was no matter – she had forgotten about its existence. In fact, the entire transaction that had occurred in the woods had been taken from her memory. However, upon sitting up and preparing to get out of bed, something did catch her eye. On her night stand was something new – a small red tome that she curiously picked up. On the cover were the words, ‘The Labyrinth’, golden script over which she brushed her fingers.
Figuring the book was a birthday present from her father, Sarah smiled and cracked it open, unaware that her very own story was about to begin.