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October 2009
 

I Am The Nurse At Your Disco posting in Labyrinth_Fic
User: labyrinth_fic (posted by starsinthesnow)
Date: 2007-07-16 18:33
Subject: ~+ Caelia's Tale +~
Security: Public
Location:living room
Mood:naughtynaughty
Music:'This Shit Will Fuck You Up' - Combichrist
Title: Caelia's Tale
Rating: NC-17
Author's Notes: Adult Sarah gets something she hardly wished for and embarks on a very personal journey. BDSM.
Disclaimer: Anyone you recognise does not belong to me, I am merely nabbing these characters to have a little fun with them.



‘I used to have the most curious, fantastical dreams…’ Sarah Chamberlain-Jones whispered, a slight smile playing at the corner of her lips.

It had been such a long time since she had dared to wander down this particular avenue of memory lane, she realised she could barely remember her way. Fleetingly, she hoped she would be able to find her way back.

Her friends had arrived for a small get together after she had put her baby daughter to bed for the night. Thankfully Legacy was a heavy sleeper for a child of her age, especially after a bottle of warm milk and a moments quiet singing, so as the volume of their conversation rose and fell, she didn’t stir once and Sarah was free to enjoy herself for the evening.

Since her high profile divorce last year, her friends had begun to show up more and more, ever spontaneous and supportive. Despite her flourishing career, times had been hard and times like these that were purely social and indulgent were savoured and enjoyed.

After the first bottle of chilled Cristal had been emptied, the conversation had turned to dreams. Sarah was too busy these days to be lost in flights of fancy and after all, her hugely successful acting career provided all the fantasy she could ever want and better still, she received outrageous paycheques for her work. Daydreams ceased to be and when she went to bed at the end of every busy, busy day her body was too tired to allow any vivid dreams.

Sleep was a black, dizzy chasm, suitable only for the resting of bones and muscles.

‘What kind of dreams?’ her friend Jasper asked, lighting a cigarette.

‘Oh, it would sound stupid, honestly,’ she replied, waving a hand as if to dismiss the notion.

Petra, a model friend of Sarah’s whom she had met only a few weeks ago at an awards ceremony rolled her eyes and laughed, ‘Dreams are meant to be stupid, Sarah. They are not meant to make sense, they are but a playground for the unconscious mind,’

‘I know, I know… but mine were so realistic sometimes I could have sworn I had been spirited away to some far off place…’ Sarah allowed her voice to take a softer tone, but her mind did not sink too deep.

Jasper popped the cork on another bottle of Cristal and filled the four waiting glasses, the one remaining guest being a particularly sought after artist at the time, a sculptress by the name of Casey Philadelphia who Sarah had been buying from since she hit the big time. Casey tilted her glass as she received her champagne, not wanting the bubbles to fizz over the edge of the crystal glass.

‘Well, I want to know about these dreams now, missy. They must have been pretty damn good to take you that far away.’ Petra laughed, tapping her friend on the knee to gain her attention.

Sarah turned to face her, her eyes turning dark and thoughtful.

‘Yes… something like that…’

*

‘A lot of it has become distant to me now… It was so long ago; I was still a teenager. It’s strange but looking back, over the past ten years since these dreams occurred, I can’t remember having a single dream that has measured up to these. The fear, the hope, the mystery, the passion… it was like weaving myself into the pages of a most exquisite fairytale…

‘I remember things in drifting shades and glimpses… like seeing a glow through a keyhole, only to have the candle blown out and my precious vision stolen away…

‘Beats of tiny wings and endless flights of stone stairs, winding ever onwards and never really going anywhere. Frustration and anger. Vast green swamps that stank of rotting offal. The taste of peaches, tart and intoxicating on my tongue. Great beasts and freakish, frantic dancing creatures with sharp teeth and biting words. The beating sun as I journeyed on and on searching for something I missed but didn’t truly care for…

‘And the most peculiar mismatched eyes… the way he looked at me was disarming. I was too young to understand and yet I thought I knew everything. I knew nothing and only the hanging guilt I feel sometimes reminds me of how naïve I was…

‘I was so scared of him, but as always my only weapon was my attitude and it left me lost and feeling like I had given away my mind…

‘I have never dreamt of him or that place since, though I have tried so hard to induce dreams that at least touched on what happened. I still want to understand. There are times, I swear I am serious as I say this…there are times I could almost believe it all really happened…’

*

Casey was the first to speak; Jasper and Petra were exchanging slightly surprised glances.

‘Sarah, that sounds like one hell of a weird dream to me,’

‘It was weird,’ Sarah returned, feeling suddenly as though the atmosphere in her opulent little sitting room had changed from casual to uncomfortable. The tiny hairs on the back of her neck had prickled and gooseflesh had risen wherever her skin was exposed.

‘What were you looking for?’ Petra asked, ‘I’ve heard that almost every thing that appears to you in a dream can symbolise something in your waking life,’

‘Right. Like an apple can represent health or a snake can represent a liar,’ Jasper added.

‘Hmm… I was looking for my baby brother, Toby,’ Sarah said and was shocked the instant those words left her lips, for it was the first time in ten years that she had been able to remember something so vividly about the dreams.

She took a large swallow of champagne and located her own packet of cigarettes, lighting one up and exhaling a small cloud of smoke all in one puff.

‘Where had he gone?’ Petra asked.

‘Someone had taken him…’ Sarah felt a chill spread down her bare arms as she spoke and her discomfort only increased as a few more small memories returned to her.

Outside her luxury, thirteenth floor apartment, the sun began to fall behind the New York skyline and disappear, leaving a trail of scarlet and gold in its wake. Soon the night would descend and though Sarah usually welcomed the beat of the moonlight as her pulse slowed and sleep crept up behind her, something unfurled inside her that was bordering on terror.

Try as she might to understand it, she had no idea why.

‘I wished him away… he was making my life so complicated and all I wanted was to be free in my own world, with no outsiders peering in. I wished him away to…’

A silence hung pregnant in the air as shadows grew long around the expensive furniture and strategically placed antiques. Jasper cleared his throat and asked, ‘To who?’

‘I can’t remember his name… I think it was the Troll King, something like that… I held him in my arms and…’ an image of Legacy replaced the one she had already had of Toby in her mind, she wasn’t sure why, perhaps it was the thought of what losing her own child in such a way might do to her, ‘I said that I wished the trolls would take her away right now…’

‘Her? I thought you said you had wished your brother away?’ Casey asked.

‘I did, sorry. I said that I wished they would take him away… and they did. I had to journey to find him.’

Petra stood and walked the length of the room, switching on designer table lamps as she moved.

‘Honey, I think you need a holiday,’ she said, heading over to the windows to let the blinds fall, before drawing the heavy, mushroom coloured drapes.

Casey and Jasper laughed and Sarah was sure she heard herself laugh too, though any part of her soul that was capable of feeling humour had seemingly vacated for the time being. The apartment seemed changed, cold somehow and she was getting the feeling that her friends were about to leave. She didn’t want to be alone.

‘I just got back from the Maldives,’ Sarah replied, sipping from her glass now, the Cristal tasting bitter.

‘Yes, but you were working. You should go away, just you and Legacy and take some quality time out,’

‘Hmm, maybe…’

Jasper looked down awkwardly, obviously not knowing what else to say. After a few beats of silence he suggested they go down and try to catch a cab. Sarah couldn’t help but notice how quickly they gathered their things and took their leave in a flurry of coats, bags and bunches of keys.

What she had revealed about those strange teenage dreams had surely disturbed her much more than it could have disturbed them? After all, it was her skin that prickled and her gut that clenched as the memories returned in small, sharp slices.

For no reason that she could determine, the face of her ex husband Michael loomed into her mind like a swooping crow, all darkness and discomfort. She sat on the edge of her seat as the room settled into silence and the atmosphere dulled to meet the night. Why hadn’t she asked at least one of her friends to stay with her? One of them would have, surely.

They did when her marriage fell to pieces, just one year after they had exchanged their vows. They stayed each night until the tears stopped, exchanging gossip about Michael’s new girlfriend, refilling her wine glass each time it emptied and doing any housework that the cleaner had overlooked.

Strangely enough, it didn’t dull the pain of Michael leaving though, nor the agony of the tabloids feasting on the car crash of her marriage like a pack of bloodthirsty vampires.

Sarah stood and placed her near empty champagne glass on the coffee table in front of her, wandering over to the lamps Petra had switched on just a short time before.

In the dark, Sarah headed to the nursery.

*

In the nursery, a mobile slowly turned in the darkness, the only evidence of disruption. A cow, a chicken, a sheep and a pig hang from it, along with dangling pastel coloured stars. A gift from Sarah’s Father and Legacy’s Grandfather, part of a family that were almost as distant to her now as those strange and haunting dreams…

There was a smell. That was the first thing that Sarah noticed. A smell unlike anything she’d known before. In truth, the only way to describe it was otherworldly. Earthy, pungent and raw.

‘Legacy?’ she whispered, not even loud enough for the child to hear.

Something was stirring in the darkness. A nursery is never dark, not even when all the lights out, there is always something warm and incubating. But tonight Legacy’s room was as black as pitch and the shadows were turning in on themselves. It was cold too, for one of the windows was wide open.

Sarah managed to take a few steps forward, placing her hand on the end of the crib. She already knew the child would be gone before she bent to look and so her gasp did not surprise her. It sounded deafening in the tiny room.

‘You should be careful what you wish for,’ a voice spoke, as soft as silk.

Sarah turned to look behind her, but there was nothing there. She turned back again and saw a silhouette shift and then step forward into a pool of perfect blue moonlight.

‘What… what did I wish for?’ Sarah heard herself say.

‘You wished that the trolls would take her away right now.’

*

Shock slammed into Sarah so hard and fast she thought she might faint, or that her heart might stop dead in her chest.

It all came back to her… that night ten years ago, that awful night when she wished Toby away after yet another argument with her Father and stepmother. Perhaps to some what entailed might have seemed like a breathtaking adventure filled with merriment and fun, but the reality of it had been harsh and exhausting.

Some of it was fun, such as the friends she made during her journey, but for the most part Sarah had been scared. It had changed her more than she realised.

This person standing in front of her now holding her sleeping baby daughter, her precious bundle of joy, was not the man she had met the first time round. The memory of the previous intruder came to her vividly now; he had been blonde and fair, with high cheekbones and a strange shimmer to his skin. Lithe and long limbed…

This man who stood before her now was darkness and alabaster. He reminded her of a horror film character, his pale skin and long black hair, sharp features and thin lips. He was handsome, but terrifying, wearing black breeches, boots and a grey, ruffled shirt.

She realised then, her mistake. It hadn’t been the Troll King the first time round; it had been the Goblin King. She had called an entirely different force; one she did not know how to handle.

‘I didn’t mean to wish her away… I was telling a story; I didn’t even think it was real the first time around! It didn’t even enter my mind to send her away…’

He pressed a gloved finger to his lips to halt her rambling and Sarah found her lips ceasing in their movement. A silence bloomed and moved between them until he spoke again.

‘When you were telling what happened to your brother, you thought of this precious one here. Did you not?’

‘No, of course not!’

‘You did, because your friends had to correct you when you said ‘she’ instead of ‘he’. Think back to the conversation and you will see that I am right.’

Sarah closed her eyes and allowed herself a deep breath, without accepting a thing. ‘Who are you?’

Still holding Legacy, he bowed a little and then looked back up to her. ‘I am Goroth, Troll King.’

Sarah felt a lump rise in her throat and she squeezed her eyes shut again, tightly until tiny red stars began to burn in the darkness.

‘Please don’t do this. Not again. Not now,’ she whispered.

‘You have wished this one away and I am but fulfilling my duty. She will depart with me in a moment or two and I will take her to my kingdom. She will be transformed into a troll and forced to live a life of manual labour with my legions.’

He said this with perfect calmness, but already Sarah could tell there would be more to it than that. If he had meant to steal her away with such finality, surely he would not be wasting time conversing with her now. She took another deep breath.

‘Last time this happened, I was allowed to run the Labyrinth to rescue my brother. What is my option now?’

Goroth fleetingly looked her over and for a second Sarah felt exposed, despite the fact she was fully dressed in a plain red dress and belt. Unconsciously, she raised an arm and pressed her palm to her shoulder, trembling despite herself.

‘There is no ‘Labyrinth’ in my kingdom,’ he said. Legacy stirred slightly in his arms and both of them looked down to her, distracted by her movement. She remained asleep however and Sarah felt a great pain inside, a longing unlike she had ever known to be with her child. It physically hurt and she knew then that she would do anything to resolve this for her sake. If she thought snatching her from would have worked or been that simple, she would have done so. This was not going to be so easy.

She raised her chin and met his gaze.

‘There must be something I can offer you.’

He stared into her, his eyes mesmerising, the colour no different from iris to pupil. She looked for a glitter of emotion, but there was none. Again, the silence seemed to flow everlasting until she thought she couldn’t bear it any longer.

‘You could trade places with her,’ he said, as though he was thinking very carefully about every word he had chosen.

‘And be turned into a troll?’

‘No. There is an option for you. You could come willingly with me to be a servant and your daughter will be spirited to a human home where the inhabitants will be childless and appreciative of a baby. You will be trained to… please me.’

Sarah looked down to beautiful baby girl in his arms and closed her eyes for the last time, a pain swelling in her heart.

‘If she will come to no harm, then… I suppose that is the only option I have.’



Reviews would be welcome as I post more of this fic, I never seem to get any over at aff.net *sob* Thanks for reading :) xx
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SR_Devaste
User: sr_devaste
Date: 2009-07-31 22:07 (UTC)
Subject: (no subject)
No Jareth? Terribly unfortunate.
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