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In honor of David Bowie, a post of my fan fiction, Marriage of the Goblin King, a Labyrinth fanfic. It's fitting as the tale is centered on aging, mortality, and coping with the death of a loved one.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own any characters in this story except for Beatrix, Margaret, Cassidy, Jill, and Jake.
Note: I wrote this story when I realized that Jennifer Connelly is 43 years old. I just finished reading for the first time the Return to the Labyrinth manga, and while I do have my own criticisms, I liked it a lot but felt it didn't feel very finished. After all, when this movie was made I was baby Toby's age, and now I'm covering up my first silver hairs. Eghad, where does the time go?
Nine year old Beatrix leaned out of the car window, letting the cold wind lift up her short brown hair. Cassie had fallen asleep in her car seat, thank God. She was excited to go to Popop's and Mumum's as much as Bea was, and whenever Cassidy was excited she was impatient. And whenever she was impatient, she was what Mommy called “a pest.” But now she was quiet. Bea closed her eyes as she peered outside, and pretended she was flying.
Margaret saw Bea's little face in the mirror and smiled. “Bea, don't hang out the window too far. Are you wearing your seat belt?”
“Yes Mommy.” Margaret heard the seat belt click on hurriedly.
Finally the kids settled down enough for her to sip her ice coffee, and turn the stereo from Disney Sing Along to her own favorite music. Margie always liked the 1980's classics. David Bowie and Queen sang about being under pressure, and as the thrum thrum thrum of the base guitar played, she felt like she could relax and stop being a busy mom for just a minute or two. In that minute, she let herself be as excited as her two little girls. She missed her folks, and hated that they had to move so far south. West Palm Beach, Florida, where retirees and Caribbeans inhabited a hot, muggy, eternal summer.
“Hey, at least it's not Miami,” Daddy had said when he and Mom revealed that they bought the new house, and would be leaving P.A. Margie and her brother Doug had accepted the fact that their parents were pretty old, and elderly folks tend to want warmer places. And Margie knew why her parents decided to move. Ever since her Auntie Sarah had passed, the big old Victorian house that belonged to her grandparents was so lonely for just to two of them. But the distance was so far away, and they would only get to see each other during vacation. Neither liked the idea very much. It wasn't fair, and Margie had said so.
Daddy had laughed at this, that funny twinkle in his blue eyes. “You're right,” he said in the silly mock Scottish accent he reserved only for telling his amazing stories. “It's not fair, lass. But that's only half of it!”
And that was that. Mom and Dad were to head south, and Margie, her husband and the girls would come and visit in the summertime. It saddened Margie that they could see them whenever they wished, but the summer trips were always exciting adventures. Sometimes they'd all take a drive up to Disney World or Universal Studios. This year Jake couldn't come because he had work, so it would just be Margie and the girls.
When their minivan pulled into the driveway of the peachy pink house (Florida houses always looked like giant pastries to Margie), Bea was up and out of the car before Margie had turned off the ignition.
“Bea, wait for Cass and me.” But Bea was already pounding on the little white door. Margie unbuckled Cassidy's car seat and lifted the groggy four year old out. She heard the door open and Bea's excited exclamation.
“GRANDPA TOBY!!!”
Bea jumped into her grandfather's arms and he grunted. “Ohh, careful little girlie!” He chortled.
“Popop?” asked Cassidy sleepily, rubbing her big hazel eyes. Grandpa Toby's arms were all ready full of an excited, chattering Beatrix. Mumum came to the door in a frilly pink house dress, her silver hair tied in a smart little ponytail. Cass held her arms out to her grandmother and kissed her face, then placed her cheek on Mumum's shoulder and promptly fell back asleep.
“Ohhh, someone's a little sleepy-bear,” laughed Mumum. She carried the little one inside and lay her down on the couch, covering her with a soft yellow throw.
“Daddy,” sighed Margie, her voice cracked as she hugged her father. She felt her throat tighten.
“Oh, now stop. Don't get all emotional, you big silly.” But Grandpa Toby's eyes were moist. He missed them every bit as much.
They all settled in, and Cassie finally woke up. Grandma Jill made her delicious pot roast, and for desert they had strawberry shortcake. As the evening progressed, Popop and Mumum asked about everything, the weather in P.A., how the old how was doing, and did they get the drains fixed yet. And Margie and Bea told everything, but it was clear that they weren't all as interested in talking. Something else was on their minds, but both seemed too shy to speak of it. Until finally Cassie spoke up.
“Popop, I wanna hear a story about the Goblins,” she said decidedly. Everyone grew quiet. Margie seemed suddenly very interested in the last bit of cake on her plate. Mumum placed her hand on her husband's shoulder.
“Oh, honey. I don't know if Grandpa Toby wants to-” began Mumum, but Popop interrupted.
“It's alright, Jill. I don't mind. And I think it'll be good for us,” he said. Margie and Bea looked at each other excitedly.
“Yay! Goblin story!” sung Bea.
Grandpa Toby's cheerful voice suddenly changed into the deep, magical tones of an experienced Storyteller. His eyes grew bright and mysterious.
“Well, this is a true story that happened when I was just a tiny little baby. My big sister, Sarah, was a very special girl who had certain powers. One day, she would out in the park reading poetry, when she saw a strange, white owl perched atop a bridge post...”
Grandpa Toby told the tale of how the magical Goblin King had fallen madly in love with Sarah, and had whisked him away to the castle beyond the Goblin City. Sarah had to brave the dangerous Labyrinth in order to save him from being turned into a goblin.
Margie grew up with this story, first hearing accounts of it from her old Aunt Sarah herself, and also from her own father. Aunt Sarah and her father's stories were so marvelous that one day, when Sarah was a grown up lady she decided to write them down in a series of books. The books were very popular, and someone had even asked to turn them into a movie once. And if the truth could be told, the stories were the reason why Margie was so excited to come down.
When Popop had finished his tale, everyone's eyes were shining from the magic of the tale. Mumum smiled contentedly as she silently brought out the tea kettle. She was pleased to hear Toby telling his tales again. Very pleased.
“But Popop, weren't you scared of all those goblins?” asked Cassidy.
“Oh, I was scared at first. But the Goblin King made sure none of them ever hurt me. He was very nice to me and the end of it all.”
“If the Goblin King loved Aunt Sarah so much, why was he so mean?” asked Bea.
“Now I don't know. I think it's what happens when one messes about with so much magical things. I think it makes people too excited to be the boss of everything, and always want to only get their way.”
“He was a bad guy then, wasn't he?”
“Hmm...I'm not so sure about all that. Auntie Sarah was being very mean, and she was the one who wished the goblins to take me away, even if she didn't really mean it. And like I said before, King Jareth never ever hurt me.”
“Auntie Sarah was mad at him, wasn't she? I'd be mad.” Cassie chewed a lock of her sandy hair.
“Yes, she was. That's why she fought against him as hard as she could.”
“But he loved her. Why didn't he just say he was sorry and try to be nice?”
“Well, sometimes grown-ups can be very silly and stubborn and don't want to say they're sorry, even if they are,” answered Margie.
“Do you think the Goblin King really was sorry?”
“Well, maybe. I don't know.” Toby smirked. Children always asked questions that grown ups never think about.
“If he just said sorry, and tried to be nice to her, maybe she would've married him. He was just stupid. That's what I think,” said Bea, crossing her arms.
“Maybe,” said Margie. It was almost 9:30, and the girls would need to head to bed. Mumum began clearing the table of all the teacups. Cassidy stretched and yawned.
“ Oh, but didn't you know? She did marry him in the end,” said Grandpa Toby. Everyone froze. They had never heard this part of the story before.
“What are you talking about?” asked Margie finally.
“Well, I'm surprised you all didn't know this already. Have I never told you this story before? Oh dear. I'm beginning to forget things the older I get.” Jill sat back down at the table, her dishes forgotten. Bea, Cass, and Margie sat eagerly at the edge of their seats.
“It all started when your old Auntie Sarah came back from the doctor's. She was living with Grandma Jill and I in the big old house at the end of Cherry Street. She was very old, and couldn't live there alone anymore, and your Mommy and Uncle Doug were all grown up, so we all decided it would be best to all live together. We are all quite old, and when you get older, you tend to have to go to the doctor more often. But Auntie Sarah was older still, and even though she was far more full of fun and magic than most old ladies her age, time has it's way of getting at you no matter what you do...”
Sarah rocked herself in the overstuffed chair of her childhood bedroom and gazed vaguely out the window. She had let her silver hair down from it's customary bun, and was stroking the long shining locks absentmindedly. Her green-blue eyes, now smokey with cataracts, had a peaceful sadness in them as well as a soft sense of content. Toby and his wife had taken her to the doctor that morning, and the news wasn't good at all. It was her diabetes. She was diagnosed with it when she hit sixty-five, and it had plagued her for almost ten years. Over the last month or so, she had been feeling very tired and having severe stomach pains. She tried to wave it off to poor digestion, but dear Jill begged her to take the trip to the doctor anyway. The doctor was a sweet young lady with golden hair and a slight lisp.
“I'm sorry, Miss Williams,” she had said, pronouncing “sorry” like thorry. “But I'm afraid we're going to have to put you on hemodialysis...”
She, Toby and Jill watched an educational video about what happens during the procedures, how she can improve her health, and what to expect from her healthcare provider. They were going to put something in her arm called a fistula; a bumpy tube that was to go under her skin so that they can put needles in her that would drain out all the blood from her body to be cleaned by a big machine. Toby and Jill looked worried by the video, despite it's happy guitar music and the kindly doctor who explained everything. Sarah was frightened. But the doctor said it was extremely necessary.
It was what it was. One didn't make it to seventy-five without expecting some sort of troubles with one's health. She brushed her hair thoughtfully and enjoyed the peaceful quiet in the afternoon. Warm bars of sunlight streamed down on her, and she sighed softly. She was so grateful for Toby and his wife. She hated that they had to take care of her like this, but at the same time was glad to have them in the house. Time had made her lonesome, and she had never married nor had any children of her own. Doug and Margie practically were like her children, and there wasn't a weekend where they weren't at her house, filling it's rooms with laughter and games, and they would always beg her to tell them stories and put on little plays for the family. But they were both grown now, and too busy to come and visit as often as when they were children. She missed them.
Yet she had no regrets. She had written and published a few novels, and even a play. She had gotten to enjoy a fun acting career touring with regional theatre companies until her late fifties. She had even patched things up with her mother, who was a doddering old retired actress when she came to see Sarah perform as Golde in Fiddler. That was a feat in itself. Mother had always said that only amateurs attend musicals because they don't know any better. Poor, snobby, silly, selfish Mother. Always trying to put on airs and be better than everyone else. Sarah remembered when she used to idolize her. In a very strange way, despite their differing opinions and constant quarreling, she still did. Mother had a few snarky things to say about the young actresses who played Sarah's daughters, and a nasty comment or two about the old gent who played Tevye's singing voice. Sarah kept her patience but reminded Mother that these were her friends she was talking about, and how about instead of bickering let's go get a nice bite to eat? Mother took the hint gracefully and the rest of the evening was pleasant.
Sarah smiled to herself. No, she had no regrets. None at all. She was frightened about the dialysis treatment. And she was just simply so tired...Her thoughts silenced as she saw what she thought to be a barn owl perched in the tree that grew by her window. An old, familiar thrill rose and fell in her belly. She stood with some effort and came to the window, pressing her liver-spotted hand against the warm glass. A second look and she saw that it wasn't a barn owl. It wasn't anything. Her old eyes playing tricks.
“I wish...” she stopped herself. Silly old thing. After all these years, after everything she'd seen, done, and been through. Did she really still harbor that naïve girlish fantasy that whenever her life proved difficult, something magical would always come and take all her troubles away? She couldn't help but chuckle aloud. No, she made her choices and lived her life well. And she meant to see it to the end on her own.
“Why don't you say it?” a deep voice spoke from behind her. She turned, her hand over her heart. Before her he stood, as if from an ancient dream. She recognized his every feature. The smooth, pale complexion. The elegant, high-born expression. The strange eyes that didn't quite seem to match. He was a tall, dark figure in the doorway of her little bedroom looming in glittering darkness, and there would be no way out. Fear gripped her and she began to tremble. She held up two, shaking hands in front of her face in surrender.
“ It's you...The Goblin King...Jareth...what are you...What do you want from me? Please, don't come any closer.” Her frail voice quivered. What was he going to do to her? Kill her now, after all these years? Seek some sort of revenge on her, or perhaps he'll try to go after the children. She should call for Toby.
“Sarah, please. I will not harm you,” he said softly, amused. Sarah waddled hurriedly away from the window, and had to sit at the vanity to steady herself.
“Toby is here, and so is his wife. If I scream, they'll come-”
“Sarah, Sarah. Honestly, I'm shocked. After all these years and everything we've been through, you still view me as your enemy?”
“Jareth, do not trifle with me. You know my will is stronger than yours. I'm not a frightened little girl any longer.”
There was a firmness in her voice and a steadiness in the old woman's eyes that made Jareth recoil. She may have the appearance of frailty, but her spirit was as stronger than ever. He stepped back.
“Indeed, you aren't.”
“I'll say the words-” she began.
“Sarah, stop. Please listen. I have not come to battle with you.”
“Then what do you want?”
Jareth's cool expression melted away to one of deep sorrow. He came behind the chair she was sitting.
“After so long, it saddens me that you still need to ask. Sarah, all I have ever wanted was you.”
Sarah said nothing.
“Please, hear what I am trying to say. I've watched you grow throughout the years. You went from a stubborn little girl with a wild imagination to a powerful woman that none can ever hope to hinder. Everyone believes that one must choose between dreams and reality. Even I believed that this was the only choice that lay before anyone, and rather than become lost in the anonymity of dreary, everyday life, I have chosen timeless magic and splendor. I first thought that our two hearts were the same in this. You can imagine my disappointment in you when I offered you your dreams, and you chose the mundane. I believed that with that choice you would be lost to all things magic. But you...You have proven that it is possible to have the best of both worlds. I watched you struggle with the trials of everyday life, and yet still defend your inner sense of magic and wonder. Your books...they have captured and won the imagination of countless others, giving you power of hearts as well as minds. And yet, even in your strength, you still remain so fragile...” He gently brushed a long, silver tendril from her wrinkled brow. “...So vulnerable.”
She brushed his hand away from her defiantly. “What is your point, Jareth?”
“Sarah, I am begging you to try to understand. I love you. I love you more now than I had ever done so in the beginning. Before, I loved your will, your selfishness, your strength. But now through time I see your tenderness, your gentleness, your desire to change and grow even in the face of adversity. I was a fool not to see it before, but as I watched you live your life, it has become very clear. The simple thing I've taken for granted...This simple, mundane, ordinary thing called life...it's something I was never able to appreciate. You're mortal's existence has taught me more than eternities of magic. I knew that there was something important hidden...It's what drew me to you from the first day I saw you.”
Sarah stared at her old, wrinkled hands as he spoke. Her life was her own experience. She didn't need his help to see what it meant to her. She shook her head slowly. None of this made any sense to her.
“You have my heart. You took it with you when you left my labyrinth. I am forever bound to you. You and I now share the same fate. As will my castle, and all of the Goblin City...” As Jareth said this, his voice began to sound thin and weak. Sarah looked up into the mirror's reflection and saw him standing behind her. Before her eyes his smooth cheek withered, his eyes grew cold and gray, and his flaxen hair grew white and began to fall out. She turned to him, frightened.
“Now you see me as I have become. My heart has lived with you through out your whole life, and has also now grown old with you. Do you not see? We are dying...and very soon the Labyrinth will be no more. And all of my empire, my subjects...they will be gone.” Jareth fell into a dry coughing fit and fell into a sitting position in her bed.
Despite herself, Sarah rose and cupped his haggard face. “Jareth, no. No, please...”
“My precious Sarah...I've come to ask of you two things. Things that in my foolishness I had too much pride and too little wisdom to ask for. First, I've come to beg for your forgiveness...” Suddenly, his face began to dry up and grow even more sunken. Tears spilled from Sarah's cheeks.
“And secondly, I've come to ask you that which I have wanted for years and years and yet you have denied me...”
“Jareth, please don't do this to me. Not now...”
“Sarah...Come away with me...”
“No, I can't.”
“The Labyrinth is nothing without you as my Queen...”
“Stop it. This world is my home. My life is here, and you know that.” Sarah's old woman's voice had become a shrill tremor.
“Sarah, you're life here is ending here. Don't you see-”
“No! Be quiet! I don't want to listen to you anymore.”
“-that you're dying?”
At these words Sarah crumbled to her knees, despite her old bones screaming in protest. Her face was in Jareth's lap, and she sobbed as his boney hand rested upon the back of her head. She felt his warm tears dot the back of her neck. Jareth was crying, too?
“Jareth, I'm scared.”
“So am I, beloved,” he whispered. “But you must make your choice.”
“I...I don't want to die.”
“Then don't.”
“But Toby...The children...the girls...”
“Sarah, you have done so much for them. It is time for them to have their own adventures.”
She looked up at his eyes and was startled to see such gentle tenderness in them. He had changed. And so had she.
“Alright, Jareth... After all this time. Finally...I will come away with you...”
Relief and joy flooded into his face. He smiled, tipping her chin upward. As they kissed, everything around them became sweet softness. The pain and stiffness of old age seemed to melt away, and when she opened her eyes, Sarah found herself staring into his handsome, flawless face once more. She looked down at herself and saw that her hands were no longer wrinkled, crooked and spotted, but thin, fresh and delicate as they were when she was a young girl of fifteen. Jareth helped her to rise. She saw that she was in a shimmering gown that shone light moonlight, and a crown of pure crystal sat upon her raven hair. She marveled at herself in the mirror. She was young again, and fresh as a blossoming flower.
“Oh Jareth... This is all too beautiful to be real.”
“Come, my Queen. Your kingdom awaits your return...”
“And then what happened, Grandpa Toby? Did they get married and live happily ever after?” asked Beatrix.
“Well now that's hard to tell, little one. I expect they lived happily most of the time, and unhappily part of the time, just like everyone else. But the most important thing you must remember is that they did live once.”
Margie couldn't speak, her eyes red rimmed and her face wet with tears. Mumum was crying as well, and had an arm around her daughter's shoulders. Bea and Cass couldn't figure out what everyone was crying about. It was a happy ending after all.
That night, as Toby brushed his teeth, he gazed into the mirror bleakly. He could almost remember hearing his sister's voice as she tucked him into bed every night when he was very young.
“Now remember, Toby,” she would say as she'd turn on his night light, “Should you need me, for any reason at all...”
“I'll call,” Grandpa Toby said to the image of himself in the bathroom mirror. His eyes stung with tears.
Jill heard him mumbling to himself in the bathroom. She came up behind him and rubbed his shoulders tenderly. “You miss her terribly, don't you?”
“Yes. Very much.”
Suddenly they heard a shrill scream from across the hall in the guest room.
“Grandpa Toby! Grandpa Toby! Come quick!”
“Daddy! Look!” Margret was shouting, too. Margie and the girls were standing at the window, Bea bouncing up and down with excitement. Toby and his wife came to the window, and when he saw what they were looking at, wild joy leaped in his chest.
“Look, Grandpa Toby! It's Auntie Sarah and the Goblin King! I see them! I see them!”
Perched on the white picket fence were two white-faced barn owls, gazing lazily into the window. As the family watched, the two owls took flight, soaring high on velvety wings, white in the light of the moon and black against the stars. They swooped up toward the full moon and disappeared into the night.
THE END
DISCLAIMER: I do not own any characters in this story except for Beatrix, Margaret, Cassidy, Jill, and Jake.
Note: I wrote this story when I realized that Jennifer Connelly is 43 years old. I just finished reading for the first time the Return to the Labyrinth manga, and while I do have my own criticisms, I liked it a lot but felt it didn't feel very finished. After all, when this movie was made I was baby Toby's age, and now I'm covering up my first silver hairs. Eghad, where does the time go?
Nine year old Beatrix leaned out of the car window, letting the cold wind lift up her short brown hair. Cassie had fallen asleep in her car seat, thank God. She was excited to go to Popop's and Mumum's as much as Bea was, and whenever Cassidy was excited she was impatient. And whenever she was impatient, she was what Mommy called “a pest.” But now she was quiet. Bea closed her eyes as she peered outside, and pretended she was flying.
Margaret saw Bea's little face in the mirror and smiled. “Bea, don't hang out the window too far. Are you wearing your seat belt?”
“Yes Mommy.” Margaret heard the seat belt click on hurriedly.
Finally the kids settled down enough for her to sip her ice coffee, and turn the stereo from Disney Sing Along to her own favorite music. Margie always liked the 1980's classics. David Bowie and Queen sang about being under pressure, and as the thrum thrum thrum of the base guitar played, she felt like she could relax and stop being a busy mom for just a minute or two. In that minute, she let herself be as excited as her two little girls. She missed her folks, and hated that they had to move so far south. West Palm Beach, Florida, where retirees and Caribbeans inhabited a hot, muggy, eternal summer.
“Hey, at least it's not Miami,” Daddy had said when he and Mom revealed that they bought the new house, and would be leaving P.A. Margie and her brother Doug had accepted the fact that their parents were pretty old, and elderly folks tend to want warmer places. And Margie knew why her parents decided to move. Ever since her Auntie Sarah had passed, the big old Victorian house that belonged to her grandparents was so lonely for just to two of them. But the distance was so far away, and they would only get to see each other during vacation. Neither liked the idea very much. It wasn't fair, and Margie had said so.
Daddy had laughed at this, that funny twinkle in his blue eyes. “You're right,” he said in the silly mock Scottish accent he reserved only for telling his amazing stories. “It's not fair, lass. But that's only half of it!”
And that was that. Mom and Dad were to head south, and Margie, her husband and the girls would come and visit in the summertime. It saddened Margie that they could see them whenever they wished, but the summer trips were always exciting adventures. Sometimes they'd all take a drive up to Disney World or Universal Studios. This year Jake couldn't come because he had work, so it would just be Margie and the girls.
When their minivan pulled into the driveway of the peachy pink house (Florida houses always looked like giant pastries to Margie), Bea was up and out of the car before Margie had turned off the ignition.
“Bea, wait for Cass and me.” But Bea was already pounding on the little white door. Margie unbuckled Cassidy's car seat and lifted the groggy four year old out. She heard the door open and Bea's excited exclamation.
“GRANDPA TOBY!!!”
Bea jumped into her grandfather's arms and he grunted. “Ohh, careful little girlie!” He chortled.
“Popop?” asked Cassidy sleepily, rubbing her big hazel eyes. Grandpa Toby's arms were all ready full of an excited, chattering Beatrix. Mumum came to the door in a frilly pink house dress, her silver hair tied in a smart little ponytail. Cass held her arms out to her grandmother and kissed her face, then placed her cheek on Mumum's shoulder and promptly fell back asleep.
“Ohhh, someone's a little sleepy-bear,” laughed Mumum. She carried the little one inside and lay her down on the couch, covering her with a soft yellow throw.
“Daddy,” sighed Margie, her voice cracked as she hugged her father. She felt her throat tighten.
“Oh, now stop. Don't get all emotional, you big silly.” But Grandpa Toby's eyes were moist. He missed them every bit as much.
They all settled in, and Cassie finally woke up. Grandma Jill made her delicious pot roast, and for desert they had strawberry shortcake. As the evening progressed, Popop and Mumum asked about everything, the weather in P.A., how the old how was doing, and did they get the drains fixed yet. And Margie and Bea told everything, but it was clear that they weren't all as interested in talking. Something else was on their minds, but both seemed too shy to speak of it. Until finally Cassie spoke up.
“Popop, I wanna hear a story about the Goblins,” she said decidedly. Everyone grew quiet. Margie seemed suddenly very interested in the last bit of cake on her plate. Mumum placed her hand on her husband's shoulder.
“Oh, honey. I don't know if Grandpa Toby wants to-” began Mumum, but Popop interrupted.
“It's alright, Jill. I don't mind. And I think it'll be good for us,” he said. Margie and Bea looked at each other excitedly.
“Yay! Goblin story!” sung Bea.
Grandpa Toby's cheerful voice suddenly changed into the deep, magical tones of an experienced Storyteller. His eyes grew bright and mysterious.
“Well, this is a true story that happened when I was just a tiny little baby. My big sister, Sarah, was a very special girl who had certain powers. One day, she would out in the park reading poetry, when she saw a strange, white owl perched atop a bridge post...”
Grandpa Toby told the tale of how the magical Goblin King had fallen madly in love with Sarah, and had whisked him away to the castle beyond the Goblin City. Sarah had to brave the dangerous Labyrinth in order to save him from being turned into a goblin.
Margie grew up with this story, first hearing accounts of it from her old Aunt Sarah herself, and also from her own father. Aunt Sarah and her father's stories were so marvelous that one day, when Sarah was a grown up lady she decided to write them down in a series of books. The books were very popular, and someone had even asked to turn them into a movie once. And if the truth could be told, the stories were the reason why Margie was so excited to come down.
When Popop had finished his tale, everyone's eyes were shining from the magic of the tale. Mumum smiled contentedly as she silently brought out the tea kettle. She was pleased to hear Toby telling his tales again. Very pleased.
“But Popop, weren't you scared of all those goblins?” asked Cassidy.
“Oh, I was scared at first. But the Goblin King made sure none of them ever hurt me. He was very nice to me and the end of it all.”
“If the Goblin King loved Aunt Sarah so much, why was he so mean?” asked Bea.
“Now I don't know. I think it's what happens when one messes about with so much magical things. I think it makes people too excited to be the boss of everything, and always want to only get their way.”
“He was a bad guy then, wasn't he?”
“Hmm...I'm not so sure about all that. Auntie Sarah was being very mean, and she was the one who wished the goblins to take me away, even if she didn't really mean it. And like I said before, King Jareth never ever hurt me.”
“Auntie Sarah was mad at him, wasn't she? I'd be mad.” Cassie chewed a lock of her sandy hair.
“Yes, she was. That's why she fought against him as hard as she could.”
“But he loved her. Why didn't he just say he was sorry and try to be nice?”
“Well, sometimes grown-ups can be very silly and stubborn and don't want to say they're sorry, even if they are,” answered Margie.
“Do you think the Goblin King really was sorry?”
“Well, maybe. I don't know.” Toby smirked. Children always asked questions that grown ups never think about.
“If he just said sorry, and tried to be nice to her, maybe she would've married him. He was just stupid. That's what I think,” said Bea, crossing her arms.
“Maybe,” said Margie. It was almost 9:30, and the girls would need to head to bed. Mumum began clearing the table of all the teacups. Cassidy stretched and yawned.
“ Oh, but didn't you know? She did marry him in the end,” said Grandpa Toby. Everyone froze. They had never heard this part of the story before.
“What are you talking about?” asked Margie finally.
“Well, I'm surprised you all didn't know this already. Have I never told you this story before? Oh dear. I'm beginning to forget things the older I get.” Jill sat back down at the table, her dishes forgotten. Bea, Cass, and Margie sat eagerly at the edge of their seats.
“It all started when your old Auntie Sarah came back from the doctor's. She was living with Grandma Jill and I in the big old house at the end of Cherry Street. She was very old, and couldn't live there alone anymore, and your Mommy and Uncle Doug were all grown up, so we all decided it would be best to all live together. We are all quite old, and when you get older, you tend to have to go to the doctor more often. But Auntie Sarah was older still, and even though she was far more full of fun and magic than most old ladies her age, time has it's way of getting at you no matter what you do...”
Sarah rocked herself in the overstuffed chair of her childhood bedroom and gazed vaguely out the window. She had let her silver hair down from it's customary bun, and was stroking the long shining locks absentmindedly. Her green-blue eyes, now smokey with cataracts, had a peaceful sadness in them as well as a soft sense of content. Toby and his wife had taken her to the doctor that morning, and the news wasn't good at all. It was her diabetes. She was diagnosed with it when she hit sixty-five, and it had plagued her for almost ten years. Over the last month or so, she had been feeling very tired and having severe stomach pains. She tried to wave it off to poor digestion, but dear Jill begged her to take the trip to the doctor anyway. The doctor was a sweet young lady with golden hair and a slight lisp.
“I'm sorry, Miss Williams,” she had said, pronouncing “sorry” like thorry. “But I'm afraid we're going to have to put you on hemodialysis...”
She, Toby and Jill watched an educational video about what happens during the procedures, how she can improve her health, and what to expect from her healthcare provider. They were going to put something in her arm called a fistula; a bumpy tube that was to go under her skin so that they can put needles in her that would drain out all the blood from her body to be cleaned by a big machine. Toby and Jill looked worried by the video, despite it's happy guitar music and the kindly doctor who explained everything. Sarah was frightened. But the doctor said it was extremely necessary.
It was what it was. One didn't make it to seventy-five without expecting some sort of troubles with one's health. She brushed her hair thoughtfully and enjoyed the peaceful quiet in the afternoon. Warm bars of sunlight streamed down on her, and she sighed softly. She was so grateful for Toby and his wife. She hated that they had to take care of her like this, but at the same time was glad to have them in the house. Time had made her lonesome, and she had never married nor had any children of her own. Doug and Margie practically were like her children, and there wasn't a weekend where they weren't at her house, filling it's rooms with laughter and games, and they would always beg her to tell them stories and put on little plays for the family. But they were both grown now, and too busy to come and visit as often as when they were children. She missed them.
Yet she had no regrets. She had written and published a few novels, and even a play. She had gotten to enjoy a fun acting career touring with regional theatre companies until her late fifties. She had even patched things up with her mother, who was a doddering old retired actress when she came to see Sarah perform as Golde in Fiddler. That was a feat in itself. Mother had always said that only amateurs attend musicals because they don't know any better. Poor, snobby, silly, selfish Mother. Always trying to put on airs and be better than everyone else. Sarah remembered when she used to idolize her. In a very strange way, despite their differing opinions and constant quarreling, she still did. Mother had a few snarky things to say about the young actresses who played Sarah's daughters, and a nasty comment or two about the old gent who played Tevye's singing voice. Sarah kept her patience but reminded Mother that these were her friends she was talking about, and how about instead of bickering let's go get a nice bite to eat? Mother took the hint gracefully and the rest of the evening was pleasant.
Sarah smiled to herself. No, she had no regrets. None at all. She was frightened about the dialysis treatment. And she was just simply so tired...Her thoughts silenced as she saw what she thought to be a barn owl perched in the tree that grew by her window. An old, familiar thrill rose and fell in her belly. She stood with some effort and came to the window, pressing her liver-spotted hand against the warm glass. A second look and she saw that it wasn't a barn owl. It wasn't anything. Her old eyes playing tricks.
“I wish...” she stopped herself. Silly old thing. After all these years, after everything she'd seen, done, and been through. Did she really still harbor that naïve girlish fantasy that whenever her life proved difficult, something magical would always come and take all her troubles away? She couldn't help but chuckle aloud. No, she made her choices and lived her life well. And she meant to see it to the end on her own.
“Why don't you say it?” a deep voice spoke from behind her. She turned, her hand over her heart. Before her he stood, as if from an ancient dream. She recognized his every feature. The smooth, pale complexion. The elegant, high-born expression. The strange eyes that didn't quite seem to match. He was a tall, dark figure in the doorway of her little bedroom looming in glittering darkness, and there would be no way out. Fear gripped her and she began to tremble. She held up two, shaking hands in front of her face in surrender.
“ It's you...The Goblin King...Jareth...what are you...What do you want from me? Please, don't come any closer.” Her frail voice quivered. What was he going to do to her? Kill her now, after all these years? Seek some sort of revenge on her, or perhaps he'll try to go after the children. She should call for Toby.
“Sarah, please. I will not harm you,” he said softly, amused. Sarah waddled hurriedly away from the window, and had to sit at the vanity to steady herself.
“Toby is here, and so is his wife. If I scream, they'll come-”
“Sarah, Sarah. Honestly, I'm shocked. After all these years and everything we've been through, you still view me as your enemy?”
“Jareth, do not trifle with me. You know my will is stronger than yours. I'm not a frightened little girl any longer.”
There was a firmness in her voice and a steadiness in the old woman's eyes that made Jareth recoil. She may have the appearance of frailty, but her spirit was as stronger than ever. He stepped back.
“Indeed, you aren't.”
“I'll say the words-” she began.
“Sarah, stop. Please listen. I have not come to battle with you.”
“Then what do you want?”
Jareth's cool expression melted away to one of deep sorrow. He came behind the chair she was sitting.
“After so long, it saddens me that you still need to ask. Sarah, all I have ever wanted was you.”
Sarah said nothing.
“Please, hear what I am trying to say. I've watched you grow throughout the years. You went from a stubborn little girl with a wild imagination to a powerful woman that none can ever hope to hinder. Everyone believes that one must choose between dreams and reality. Even I believed that this was the only choice that lay before anyone, and rather than become lost in the anonymity of dreary, everyday life, I have chosen timeless magic and splendor. I first thought that our two hearts were the same in this. You can imagine my disappointment in you when I offered you your dreams, and you chose the mundane. I believed that with that choice you would be lost to all things magic. But you...You have proven that it is possible to have the best of both worlds. I watched you struggle with the trials of everyday life, and yet still defend your inner sense of magic and wonder. Your books...they have captured and won the imagination of countless others, giving you power of hearts as well as minds. And yet, even in your strength, you still remain so fragile...” He gently brushed a long, silver tendril from her wrinkled brow. “...So vulnerable.”
She brushed his hand away from her defiantly. “What is your point, Jareth?”
“Sarah, I am begging you to try to understand. I love you. I love you more now than I had ever done so in the beginning. Before, I loved your will, your selfishness, your strength. But now through time I see your tenderness, your gentleness, your desire to change and grow even in the face of adversity. I was a fool not to see it before, but as I watched you live your life, it has become very clear. The simple thing I've taken for granted...This simple, mundane, ordinary thing called life...it's something I was never able to appreciate. You're mortal's existence has taught me more than eternities of magic. I knew that there was something important hidden...It's what drew me to you from the first day I saw you.”
Sarah stared at her old, wrinkled hands as he spoke. Her life was her own experience. She didn't need his help to see what it meant to her. She shook her head slowly. None of this made any sense to her.
“You have my heart. You took it with you when you left my labyrinth. I am forever bound to you. You and I now share the same fate. As will my castle, and all of the Goblin City...” As Jareth said this, his voice began to sound thin and weak. Sarah looked up into the mirror's reflection and saw him standing behind her. Before her eyes his smooth cheek withered, his eyes grew cold and gray, and his flaxen hair grew white and began to fall out. She turned to him, frightened.
“Now you see me as I have become. My heart has lived with you through out your whole life, and has also now grown old with you. Do you not see? We are dying...and very soon the Labyrinth will be no more. And all of my empire, my subjects...they will be gone.” Jareth fell into a dry coughing fit and fell into a sitting position in her bed.
Despite herself, Sarah rose and cupped his haggard face. “Jareth, no. No, please...”
“My precious Sarah...I've come to ask of you two things. Things that in my foolishness I had too much pride and too little wisdom to ask for. First, I've come to beg for your forgiveness...” Suddenly, his face began to dry up and grow even more sunken. Tears spilled from Sarah's cheeks.
“And secondly, I've come to ask you that which I have wanted for years and years and yet you have denied me...”
“Jareth, please don't do this to me. Not now...”
“Sarah...Come away with me...”
“No, I can't.”
“The Labyrinth is nothing without you as my Queen...”
“Stop it. This world is my home. My life is here, and you know that.” Sarah's old woman's voice had become a shrill tremor.
“Sarah, you're life here is ending here. Don't you see-”
“No! Be quiet! I don't want to listen to you anymore.”
“-that you're dying?”
At these words Sarah crumbled to her knees, despite her old bones screaming in protest. Her face was in Jareth's lap, and she sobbed as his boney hand rested upon the back of her head. She felt his warm tears dot the back of her neck. Jareth was crying, too?
“Jareth, I'm scared.”
“So am I, beloved,” he whispered. “But you must make your choice.”
“I...I don't want to die.”
“Then don't.”
“But Toby...The children...the girls...”
“Sarah, you have done so much for them. It is time for them to have their own adventures.”
She looked up at his eyes and was startled to see such gentle tenderness in them. He had changed. And so had she.
“Alright, Jareth... After all this time. Finally...I will come away with you...”
Relief and joy flooded into his face. He smiled, tipping her chin upward. As they kissed, everything around them became sweet softness. The pain and stiffness of old age seemed to melt away, and when she opened her eyes, Sarah found herself staring into his handsome, flawless face once more. She looked down at herself and saw that her hands were no longer wrinkled, crooked and spotted, but thin, fresh and delicate as they were when she was a young girl of fifteen. Jareth helped her to rise. She saw that she was in a shimmering gown that shone light moonlight, and a crown of pure crystal sat upon her raven hair. She marveled at herself in the mirror. She was young again, and fresh as a blossoming flower.
“Oh Jareth... This is all too beautiful to be real.”
“Come, my Queen. Your kingdom awaits your return...”
“And then what happened, Grandpa Toby? Did they get married and live happily ever after?” asked Beatrix.
“Well now that's hard to tell, little one. I expect they lived happily most of the time, and unhappily part of the time, just like everyone else. But the most important thing you must remember is that they did live once.”
Margie couldn't speak, her eyes red rimmed and her face wet with tears. Mumum was crying as well, and had an arm around her daughter's shoulders. Bea and Cass couldn't figure out what everyone was crying about. It was a happy ending after all.
That night, as Toby brushed his teeth, he gazed into the mirror bleakly. He could almost remember hearing his sister's voice as she tucked him into bed every night when he was very young.
“Now remember, Toby,” she would say as she'd turn on his night light, “Should you need me, for any reason at all...”
“I'll call,” Grandpa Toby said to the image of himself in the bathroom mirror. His eyes stung with tears.
Jill heard him mumbling to himself in the bathroom. She came up behind him and rubbed his shoulders tenderly. “You miss her terribly, don't you?”
“Yes. Very much.”
Suddenly they heard a shrill scream from across the hall in the guest room.
“Grandpa Toby! Grandpa Toby! Come quick!”
“Daddy! Look!” Margret was shouting, too. Margie and the girls were standing at the window, Bea bouncing up and down with excitement. Toby and his wife came to the window, and when he saw what they were looking at, wild joy leaped in his chest.
“Look, Grandpa Toby! It's Auntie Sarah and the Goblin King! I see them! I see them!”
Perched on the white picket fence were two white-faced barn owls, gazing lazily into the window. As the family watched, the two owls took flight, soaring high on velvety wings, white in the light of the moon and black against the stars. They swooped up toward the full moon and disappeared into the night.
THE END
