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Movies » Labyrinth » Shadows of the Past :: Laby & FG Xover :: on hold
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Author of 10 Stories |
Shadows of the Past:
A Forbidden Games/Labyrinth Crossover
"Prologue"
The question was whispered in everyone's mind, but no one dared speak it. They all merely clumped together like a herd of frightened sheep, muttering and hissing and plotting, as Shadow-Men are apt to do when not toying with a prey. Suddenly silence fell as one Shadow-Man strode in, taller, stronger, prouder then any of the others. They all looked upon somewhat reverently, but mostly with a ruthless fear as he made his way to the front of the group and stood before them, the obvious, unchallenged leader. They all drew back quietly, ready now to listen. Jinneil was here. The meeting had begun.
Jinneil wasted no time in trivialities. Although he was one of the younger of the Shadow-Men, he was one of the most patient, but powerful. His restraint prevented him from becoming ensnared in blackmail himself, but a skillful manipulator, he preyed on the fears of the other Shadow-Men to remain in his place of power. Since his record was, for the Shadow-Men, remarkably clean, his face was the most human-appearing, and actually quite attractive. If not for the eyes, which were dark and endless, their black depths giving one the feeling they were plunging into despair and unable to stop themselves. His skin was pale as death and was drawn tightly against his bones and his clawed hands were often clenched as if gripping life itself, if not for his beautiful, but drawn face, he would appear already dead. He glowed a ghastly shade of gray and often faded in and out like a bad picture on an old cranky TV... like a shadow. Like a Shadow. For indeed he was.
"Well, are we agreed in what we are to do," he asked, glancing at each of the council members in turn. They took this as their cue to confer among themselves, wasting still more of Jinneil's precious time. At his impatient look, they subsided and reluctantly concluded they weren't.
"We agreed that that the missing Shadow-Man must be replaced or the order of our society shall be unbalanced," a Shadow-Man finally piped up. His face was twisted and cruel and his mouth split into a jagged toothed grin. His eyes were shaped as those of a crocodile, and they glowed an evil yellow. His nose had already begun to deform, growing crookedly like that of a croc's narrow snout. He stood taller by a foot then all the others and he was very thin, but his skin was becoming leathery and twisted to the touch. Only his musical voice, as cold and beautiful as the fleeting morning frost, could have clued in any outsider that he was part of the once beautiful and proud race of Shadow-Men.
Jinneil left a short pause for him to continue, but then he didn't, the Shadow-Man nodded coolly. "This much we have already established, Jerael. The question is, where do we find this missing Shadow-Man?"
"There is always the rune-stave," Jerael put in helpfully again. This drew a murmur of eager agreement from the crowded Shadow-Men. Jinneil, however, shook his head.
"No good," he stated simply. "Only humans can bring us into being through the rune-stave . . ." his mouth twisted on one side cruelly. ". . . and we are a forgotten race to them. No, we must bring back one already in existence, that is the only solution."
"But . . ." a Shadow-Man who resembled a very ugly rat with a distorted tail and two huge gnawing front teeth saw fit to interject. Jinneil merely looked at him and he quickly fell silent. A Shadow-Man who looked like an evil scaly lizard finished his thought for him.
". . . where can we find such a Shadow-Man?"
Jinneil smiled, his evil eyes glowing even more darkly then before. The other fell back, afraid to confront him in such a mood. He could be very dangerous when inspired.
"Simple. Look for one who has been... exiled."
Such a gasp rose from the Shadow-Man as had never been heard in the assembly. Their thinking was cold-hearted and ruthless and they only cared about the missing Shadow-Man because they feared for their own safety, not from any personal regret or emotion. Bringing back a punished Shadow-Man would have never occurred to them, no more then it would have occurred to them to restore Julian to life. Their thinking was shallow and cruel and there was no room in these merciless creatures for love or kindness.
Jinneil waited for the reactions to die down before continuing. "It is the perfect solution. An exiled Shadow-Man who has been banished from our realm for centuries finally brought back to his kinsmen... don't you see? He'll jump at the bait like a mortal."
"But," Jerael protested again, timidly. " ... isn't he being punished?"
Jinneil sighed exasperatedly. These other Shadows were all alike, foolish and unthinking, like lambs to the slaughterhouse. Jinneil alone possessed the brains to rule, the rest only fought with the simple power Nature had given them... the will to survive.
"You misunderstand, brother," he said dispassionately. "This man will not simply be allowed back into our order. He must earn his way back." The Shadow-Men all smiled agreeably, glad to be back on familiar ground. Earn... wages... punishment... pain! Now this they could identify with... this they could understand. Jinneil nodded.
"Never fear, brothers. By the time he regains his place in our order, he will have earned it, he will have returned to us... Our Prey!"
The Shadow-Men licked their lips excitedly. Tender flesh, mortal flesh. Ah, but they had not tasted it for such a long time... very long time.
"Famished. Famished... Famish-sh-sh-sh-sh-sh-sh... " Their collective muttering was like that of a hissing snake.
The rat-like one had to put in his two bits for what it was worth. "Um, what if he fails?"
Jinneil's face set, his eyes glowing dangerously with a hidden black light. "He will not fail," the demon promised. "He will not fail. Or he will be utterly destroyed!"
The dark shadow slid through the Labyrinth, it's gray, formless spirit moving silently, yet willfully toward the center. Nothing seemed to oppose it for it blended in so skillfully with the surrounding scenery that it was doubtful the dull-witted goblins ever saw it. Even the few minions that did happen to spot it, they immediately slunk back and dared not approach it, sensing an evil so ancient and powerful that even it's touch would be poison enough to utterly corrupt whatever was unfortunate enough to get too near.
Also, the rather foolishly brave Sir Didymus stepped back as the shadow slithered by, being unusually lax on his normally impassable 'No Crossing without Permission' rule. Ambrosius found a reason to enter his dog-house and possibly never remerge as long as he lived. Ludo only ducked behind a pitifully small tree and Hoggle had a sudden urge to dive-bomb head-first into an oubliette, a mistake he regretted for a good week and a half later, but it seemed like the only resort at the time. However, it little mattered, for the shadow had absolutely no interest in any of the characters, but instead completely ignored them as it made it's way slowly into the castle, melding through the walls as if it were nothing. There, it found it's objective, a Fae king who was highly engrossed in a current project and not in the least interested in seeing his... cousin.
Jinneil observed the king silently, his sharp eyes not missing a beat, their shapeless black orbs taking in every single motion as if it was vitally important. And in a way it was, Jinneil was taking a chance on restoring this Shadow-Man. Supposing he should decide to return to his former place in the realm... Jinneil refused to consider such bothersome thoughts any further. Jinneil was king, this man was merely another one of the subjects. He was not a risk... not yet.
Jareth finally glanced up, piercing the intruder with a steely mismatched gaze. Like all Shadow-Men, Jareth was divinely beautiful, his thin aristocratic features leaving no doubts as to his non-mortal and powerfully Fae background. Because of his isolation from the other shadows, and exposure to mortals, he had lost some amount of his shockingly out-worlder appearance, retaining only enough to remind one of who he was. His ageless beauty however, still remained, his youthful face and almost hauntingly goblin-like expressions proving that although not as evil as a shadowman... still as dangerous as a shadow...
'Fear me... love me... do as I say and I will be your slave...'
"Yes?" The remark was merely an impatient question. Jareth clearly had no time for this nonsense and wasn't afraid to show it. Jinneil didn't relieve his curiosity. Instead, he watched Jareth even more closely, taking in every detail.
Jareth's voice had altered almost as much as his appearance, he observed. It had grown harder, more of a mortal edge to it. There was no doubt about it, the former Shadow-Man was being affected by his mortal environment. It still had a slight accent to it, a mesmerizing elemental sound that could reduce a mortal to a mere puddle, not to mention he could still sing like the devil himself, but he was not the Shadow-Man he was. He was weak. Years and years of toying with mortals had sapped his strength until he had become more of them and less of what he was. Jinneil grinned evilly. It wouldn't be long now.
"Jareth," he said the word, gently, caressingly, like toying with a prey. All the Underground shuddered, but responded almost blindly to the beauty of his haunting voice.
"Jinneil," Jareth responded coldly, no emotion displaying itself either in his countenance or his movements. For all an outside viewer could tell, the goblin king had practically been turned to stone before their eyes. Jinneil seemed to find something about that amusing, judging by the crooked smirk on his ghostly face.
"Now, now, cousin... it has been a while, hasn't it," he commented, his eyes glowing like not quite subdued embers, still strong enough to burst into flames.
"Why are you here?" Jinneil resisted another smile at the barely masked impatience in Jareth's tone of voice. It was really very enjoyable to torment what had been the thorn in his side for many years... but yet, one must get to caught up in the pleasure of it. There was still much to be discussed.
"I'm here because we have decided to return you to the lands of the Shadows." This did catch Jareth's attention, for he stopped his fiddling and faced Jinneil squarely, at last appearing interested in what was taking place. He half-stood, then seemed to think better of it and sat again, suspicious but curious by the other man's dry comment.
"I was exiled," Jareth spoke slowly, as if trying the words out to see how they sounded on his tongue. The other man lifted a gray brow, but didn't respond. "Banished. Rejected. Forbidden. Forgotten for all time..."
Jinneil let these words sink it for a moment before replying. "Were. But we have decided to give you a second chance, Jareth. You always were one of us in your heart, just look at how many prey you have caught over the years. Children, the tenderest morsels of them all." A long forked tongue darted quickly in and out of the evil Shadow-Man's mouth. Jareth watched in revulsion.
"Perhaps I don't want to go back," he said calmly. "I'm happy here in the Labyrinth. I no longer need you. I have found my sport here, closer to the mortal realms."
"Do not defy us, Jareth," Jinneil warned softly, but his voice stung like a frigid wind and cut as deeply as icicles, cold, sharp and deadly. "We are not without power. We have the rune-stave. You must obey our bidding or suffer the consequences."
"You cannot take me back," Jareth returned loudly enough to make the entire Underground tremble. "I am the Shadow-Man who left. There is no room."
"There is room. One has been cut from the rune-stave. You must take his place."
Jareth digested this news, his face paler then death. No Shadow-Man had ever been cut from the rune-stave before. They just were. They had no beginnings or endings. That was the way it always was. That one of them could... to use a mortal term... 'die' was simply inconceivable. Who could have brought such peril to himself.
"Julian," Jinneil said cruelly, his eyes watching Jareth hopefully for some reaction to the news. He was rewarded far above his highest expectations. Jareth's face went even paler and he sunk to his knees, his pupils diluting and his eyes rolling in his head wildly. He convulsed and writhed tormentedly, then sank his blond head into his claw-like hands, his shoulders rising and collapsing like a punctured balloon. Jinneil looked gleeful, glorying in the torture he had managed to inflict. He continued to add gory descriptions of the boy's death, delighting in each new pang he brought to Jareth's face. Anything to prolong the pain he had caused. He only regretted he had not a knife to shove deeply into Jareth's gut as well.
Shadow-Men hated everyone, even one another as a general rule, but more then any other, so Jinneil despised Jareth. If he could only manage it, he would erase the news from Jareth's mind, so that he could repeat it again and see the torment all over. He wished he had killed Julian so that he could tell this to Jareth too, unfortunately he had to tell the story from the second-hand view he had gotten of it. But it was enough.
Jareth's face grew older and more haggard over each telling of it and Jinneil made sure that he agonized every detail. At last, Jareth could stand it no longer.
"ENOUGH!" he screamed, begging the other man to stop. Jinneil had no intention of stopping yet, in fact he continued for quite a few moments longer until he was quite sure he had gotten about as much sadistic pleasure as he was going to get. At length, he quieted and Jareth faced him, ready to deal.
"What is my role in all this?" Jinneil smiled again, but it wasn't promising.
"You, cousin, are to take Julian's place, assuming you earn it." Jareth cocked a slim brow.
"Meaning ..."
"Meaning you must bait, catch and return our prey." Jareth looked thoughtful.
"Your prey?"
Jinneil spread his arms apart as if indicating that Jareth was indeed foolish for having forgotten already. "Some time ago, we made a deal for a stupid old man, who was rescued by a foolish mortal girl... our prey. Julian tried to steal her from us... I guess we both know why." He gave Jareth a piercing glance, who returned it just as coolly.
"We were forced to destroy him, just as we were forced to banish a king who committed the same crime." He shot another accusatory glance, but Jareth was no longer looking at him. Instead, he was looking pale again and Jinneil grinned with satisfaction. "We want them back, our rightful prey. We want them back... BOTH of them."
Jareth gave him a look. "You mean you want ..." he took an unsteady breath," ... Sarah?"
" ... and Jenny," Jinneil finished for him.
"And if I fail?" asked Jareth in a low voice, his back turned away. Jinneil flicked a quick gaze over his back, the high-collared shirt, the trim-fitting black leather vest and the hip-hugging amber tights which led down to ankle-biting leather boots. A royal raiment... Jareth wouldn't be needing it much longer. Jinneil snickered and his eyes fixed themselves to the golden medallion dangling from Jareth's swan neck.
"You will be destroyed." The comment was a statement of fact, neither a threat nor a question. Jareth stood motionless for some time, never noticing the other fading from view, having said all there was to say.
'Julian, oh what have you suffered because of me. We will make things right once more. This time, we will play and we will win!'
The fervent exclamation caught Jenny's attention almost as quickly as the loud THUNK that had proceeded it. Jenny Thorton flipped back her long blond ponytail and glanced at her reflection in the floor-length mirror as she did so. A sigh just barely escaped her lips. Her face was flushed from hours of heavy lifting and beaded with sweat. Her hair hung limply over her forehead like faded, sun-dried strands of corn husk. Her mind wandered quickly to a man... an extraordinary man who once told her it was as beautiful as honey in the sunlight, but she pushed those thoughts away and forced herself to think of Tom. Wonderful Tom, perfect Tom, the man of her dreams, who had loved her and protected her... even when her worst nightmares had...
She shook off the memories, slightly perplexed at how easy it was to lose control of her thoughts when usually she held them with a will of iron. She stepped carefully back down the step-ladder and set the picture she was clutching down against it, before running into the adjoining room to investigate the noise.
"Hey... are you ok," she glanced worriedly down at prone form of her petite room-mate. A loud groan arose, giving Jenny the assurance that at least her friend was still ALIVE and a cloud of red hair was shook back as Lindsey Andrews sat up and blinked her green eyes, as dark emerald as Jenny's own. She winced and ran tender fingers against her freckled forehead where a large bluish/black bump was forming. Jenny extended a long slim hand in her direction, which Lindsey grasped to pull herself to her feet.
"Are you ok, Lind?" Jenny repeated, awaiting a response. Lindsey blinked once or twice, then grinned a wide smile, her pale face heightening in color.
"Hmm? Oh yeah, sure... I just toppled off the step-ladder like an idiot, trying to get ahold of that," she pointed about a foot and a half above them, where a wide Casablanca poster was hung. Jenny nodded thoughtfully.
"Well, Tom will be here in a second to pick you up for the airport, he'll get it down without any trouble." She had to force herself to keep an even face while saying that. Lindsey was transferring schools to HBU, now that the semester was over and her cousin, somebody from some nowheresville town who intended to break into show-business was moving into the dorm instead. Jenny felt depressed. She had met the cousin, who seemed really nice, but she would really miss Lindsey. They had been roommates since Jenny had moved to California three years ago. It had been nice to get away from... well, memories and Jenny had been able to make a new start here. Having Lindsey for a roommate had helped her get over the loneliness of missing Tom so much. He came up as many weekends as he could, but law school was keeping him really busy. She hardly ever heard from Deirdre Eliade anymore, since she had become a huge advocate of women's rights, she was always doing speeches or conferences across the nation. The last time Jenny had heard from her former best friend was when she received an autographed copy of Dee's new book, 'I am my only Master.' It was excellently done, but Jenny had to admit, she sort of missed her old friend, but she was glad Dee was happy with what she was doing.
Audrey Myers had married Michael right out of high school, which was somewhat of a surprise to all of them. Jenny could still vividly recall being the Maid of Honor at their wedding, and dreaming of the day that she and Tom would be the ones walking the aisle instead. At any rate, Michael and Audrey seemed happy according to their last Christmas card, Audrey's interior decorating business seemed to be taking with a bang, as well as her private catering. Michael was basically practicing a business of professional loafing as he awaited the results on his first action-thriller novel. However, if Audrey didn't mind, Jenny had no idea why she should. Audrey was enjoying working and had no plans for children yet, if ever. Michael was talking about it, but Jenny knew that Audrey would always come out triumphant. Audrey would never tolerate anything that DARED to ruin her perfect figure.
Zachary Taylor, her artistic half-cousin, communicated whenever he remembered it. 'I'm busy in art school,' he wrote on his last paint-splattered postcard, 'but enjoying it. My first art painting sold today. How is Summer?' Personally Jenny was no more surprised by his forgetfulness to clue her in on any details of his life then she was over his inquiry of Summer. Zach was a very private person, with kind grey eyes just as thoughtful as his personality. He had shown a considerable amount of interest in Summer during high school and had semi-pursued a relationship with her after they graduated. Jenny was thrilled, because she really couldn't think of a better match for her half-cousin then the sweet, remarkably childlike Summer Parker-Pearson, with her porcelain beauty and baby-doll face.
A sudden knock on the door broke through Jenny's thoughts and she went to answer it, leaving Lindsey to finish up the rest of her packing. Tom smiled at her on the other side, his gray eyes twinkling in welcome. Jenny threw her arms around his neck, thrilled to see him.
"Tom," she said joyfully, burying her face in his sweater and breathing in the warm, boyish scent of his presence. Tom ruffled her hair good-naturedly, winking at Lindsey behind her.
"Hey Thorny, how's the weather?" he inquired before pressing a soft kiss on her lips. Before Jenny had time to formulate a reply, Tom wandered into the kitchen and retrieved a handful of cookies out of her home-made jar. Jenny was about to scold him for his rudeness when another knock on the apartment door surprised her until it was pushed open a second or two later by a familiar looking, lumpy guy in a blue sweat-suit. Jenny smiled in recognition.
"Michael Cohan, when are you ever going to get rid of those sweat suits and find something decent to wear," she greeted him affectionately. Michael only shrugged.
"They're comfortable," he stated by way of explanation. Jenny nodded.
"So I see. Is Audrey here with you?"
"Nah, she wouldn't be caught dead lifting suitcases." With that, Michael was already halfway into the kitchen where he managed to help himself to about twice as many cookies as Tom had. Jenny trailed behind him into the bedroom, realizing it may take some time to get a straight answer out of him.
"That's not what I meant, Michael. Is Audrey here in town with you?" she repeated for his benefit. Michael mumbled something through a mouthful of cookies that Jenny couldn't quite decipher.
"What?" Michael sighed and swallowed hard before replying.
"I said, no she had to stay for some sort of decorating conference... or something like that. It's all a mystery to me, those colors and styles and weird stuff like that," Michael began digging through the suitcases on the bed for the lightest one. "Is this all of it?"
"Yep, I think so," Jenny's brow wrinkled as she tried to recall if Lindsey had mentioned anything else. "Hey Lind, is this all your stuff?"
Lindsey appeared in the doorway and scanned everything crowded ontop of the narrow twin bed. "Yeah, that's it."
"Good," Michael muttered. "Anything else and it'd totally break my back." Lindsey allowed a quick smile to flash across her small pointed face.
"Just a few books on American History left I think," she said, surveying the crowded dorm for any forgotten items. Michael took this as a personal cue to state his views on the subject. Naturally.
"Ah, yes America. Former great nation, but we've lost our touch. I mean, just look at what we've done to the environment for instance. Why do you know that global warming is almost entirely our fault because of all of our air pollution? And we are highly over-populating the earth..."
"Hey, wait a second," Lindsey protested. "That over-population stuff is just a myth. Why did you know that that city of Jacksonville, Florida contains roughly about 841 square feet. Each square mile contains 27,878,400 square feet. The total number of that makes the square feet of the city about... " she paused for a second to calculate it in her head. Jenny smiled amusedly, remembering that Lindsey was a math major and why.
"... 23,445,734,000," she finished triumphantly. "The world's population is estimated to be about 5.7 billions. By allowing an average of 2.6 square feet per person, every person in the whole world could fit in just about half of the entire city."
"Yeah, but most people don't daily live on 2.6 square feet of land," Michael pointed out practically. Lindsey looked smug.
"True, but if the entire world can stand side by side in half of Jacksonville, then we certainly have enough room in the world for plenty of others."
"But..." Jenny decided to make a quiet exit here. They would be debating this for hours. Both Lindsey and Michael were as stubborn as mules and neither of them would ever give in to the other's point of view. Jenny wandered into the living room again, where she found Tom waiting on her.
"Anything else?" Jenny nodded, smiling.
"Just the Casablanca poster up there. We ran into a few misadventures trying to get it down and boxed. Her suitcases are waiting on her bed, the rest of her stuff will be shipped after her tomorrow morning." Jenny sighed and settled down on the couch, snuggling up beside him contentedly. It had been a difficult week, but it was all over now.
Tom brushed his lips softly over her mussed ponytail, pulling her closer to himself in the process. He rested his chin ontop of her for a moment or two, then queried, "How have you been, Thorny?"
Jenny's heart warmed at his words. "Lonely," she admitted softly. "But good. School has been great and everyone has been so friendly here. It was nice getting away from... "
"Vista Grande High?" Tom finished for her. "Not everyone who went to Vista Grande goes to college in the city too, Jen. It would have been alright."
Jenny was quiet for a moment or two. "But most do," she finally observed. "Besides the gang all split up after high school and I... I just didn't want to hang around. Too many memories."
Tom seemed to guess the direction of her thoughts. "He's gone, Thorny. You don't have to fear shadows anymore. They are all gone and they can't hurt us."
Jenny shifted slightly and for a moment, she was afraid Tom was going to pull back from her. But instead, he pulled her closer and wrapped his arms around her protectively.
"But I don't fear anymore, Tommy. Really, I don't. It's just hard to see those old places... and remember what happened. Here, it's a huge college in a big city and I'm just one of the crowd... not that weird girl who was involved in that big missing person's incident. I've managed to put it all behind me and get on with life. And life is wonderful," she snuggled back against him contentedly. "Especially with you."
She caught a quick glance of Tom's twinkling pine green eyes before he lowered his head to kiss her. "That goes double for me, Thorny," he whispered in her ear softly. Jenny was pressed tightly up against him and she could feel the impression of a small round object against her chest. She wondered if Tom felt it too... and if he knew what it was.
Her curiosity was answered a few seconds later, when Tom said without preamble, "You are still wearing it, aren't you?" It was really more of a flat statement then a question.
Jenny felt the need to defend herself. "Well, yes... but it's not because of him. I have to wear it, Tom. I'm afraid... not of him. He can't hurt me anymore. But I'm afraid of forgetting. I can't forget, not yet." Her hand slipped beneath her shirt to pull free a small chain, from which hung a round gold ring. It had an odd insignia on the front, but inside it bore a small inscription. Once upon a time, an evil Prince of Darkness had forced her to wear that ring, bound her by it. It once read, "All do I refuse and thee do I chuse." Now it merely said, "I am my only Master."
"You see, Tom. I have to wear it, to remind me who I am, what I believe in. It's a symbol, but a symbol for good." Tom's gaze was hooded as he gently took the ring and twirled it between his thumb and forefinger.
"I understand." His voice held no emotion whatsoever. He clasped her securely and she beamed up at him.
"I'm glad." To all appearances, Tom seemed to be his normal self. But still Jenny couldn't help wondering if what he said was the truth.
Sarah Williams paused for a second or two before knocking on the apartment door facing her. Was she sure she wanted to do this? Moving in with her step-cousin's room-mate that she barely knew? Sure, going to college in Los Angeles was a step in the right direction for her career and she was very lucky that Lindsey was transferring out so that she could move right on in, but she could back out now, before any new mistakes were made. And how much had Lindsey told this room-mate about her anyway? About the depression, the isolation... all of it? Probably not. Because then of course, Jenny wouldn't want to room with her. Nobody did. Even Lindsey. They all found out quickly enough, there was just something different about Sarah, and they didn't want to be a part of it. Nobody had been through what she went through, nobody understood.
She sharply cut off those thoughts of the past and forced a wide smile on her face. Things were going to be different this time. It was a new start, a great start and she had nothing to fear this time. She and Jenny would get along great, school would be wonderful, her career would start taking off, she'd get a new boyfriend... so many possibilities. It was very exciting, but oh so terrifying.
She pushed back a strand of long brown hair and curbed her fears enough to give a single sharp rap on the door, then stood waiting for someone to answer. A few moments passed before a girl around her own age pulled the door open and wedged it behind her. Sarah could barely make her out from behind the heavy load of books she was carrying, but by the description Lindsey gave her, she guessed this was Jenny.
"Hi, you must be Sarah Williams." The girl smiled broadly and shuffled her books around so she could get a hand free. Sarah surveyed with a keen interest. As an actress, she found her skill in what she could observe about other people. Jenny was very beautiful, with wide green eyes and honey-gold hair that swung way below her shoulders in a long flowing pony-tail. Although shorter by a few inches then Sarah, she was just about as slim and her skin was a lovely peaches and cream complexion that matched her flattering looks. She was obviously friendly, but she had almost a shy look to her face, as if wondering what Sarah would think of her. And she appeared to be a very bookish type of person, as evidenced by the pile she held in her hands. As the silence grew a bit prolonged, Sarah couldn't help wondering what Jenny was seeing in her.
What Jenny saw was merely a girl around her own age with long dark brown hair swaying like a cloud across her back and dark blue eyes that almost appeared brown when the light was dimmed, holding nothing but a slender brown leather suitcase. She saw Sarah quickly bite her lip before taking the hand extended in her direction. Her hand-shake was brief and shyly done, and Jenny was almost positive she saw a flash of fear in those liquid blue eyes.
Oh, stop that, she gave herself a quick mental shake. You start making imagination based judgements on this girl before you've even met her and you'll regret it later. Now give her a chance.
"Uh, come on in," she indicated for Sarah to set her stuff down, then she took a seat across from her and gave her another welcoming smile. "Feel free to help yourself to anything in the fridge if you're hungry. I know it must have been a long drive up here, especially alone. I'm not sure I would have had the nerve to try it." Sarah smiled politely, but didn't say anything. Jenny felt the need to keep the conversation going. Silence was just too nerve-racking.
"Um... so, you are Lindsey's cousin, hmm?"
Oh now there is a lame start for you, she thought grimly. Duh, she's Lindsey's cousin. But Sarah seemed grateful for the subject prompt.
"Half-cousin actually," she said matter-of-factly, making her first comment in the meeting. "Lindsey is related to my step-mom, Karen. We were never all that close."
Jenny had to wonder why Sarah was sharing this tid-bit of information with her, it had seemed almost involuntary, like Sarah was looking for an excuse to leave. It was obvious to see that Lindsey and Sarah were going to be very different in character. It was nearly impossible to get Lindsey to be quiet for two seconds at a time, which was fine with Jenny since she wasn't much of a talker. But so far, it had been like pulling teeth to get Sarah to string five words together into a sentence. Jenny could see they were in for some quiet evenings.
"I see. So, uh what are your hobbies," she asked, searching for a safe topic to start on. Obviously family relationships weren't exactly the right thing to converse about. Sarah seemed to pause reflectively for a moment or two, her eyes growing darker in thought.
"Um... acting mainly, I also enjoy reading theatre, collecting figurines and things, putting together scrap-books, some creative writing, art..."
"Art," Jenny pounced on that one. "Ah yes, I have a cousin who is really into art... er, a half-cousin actually." Now she was doing it. But at least Sarah shot her a brief smile. "He really enjoys modern art. You?"
"Interpretive stuff, actually." Jenny nodded for her to go on. She started tugging slightly on the chain around her neck, a nervous habit she had picked up since moving to California. Sarah showed some interest in the small ring that hung at the end.
"Ooo, that's pretty. Where did you get it?" Jenny swallowed hard. Lindsey had never brought the ring up, she had just naturally assumed Tom gave it to Jenny, but Jenny wasn't sure that she was ready to talk about it yet. She twirled it lightly between her forefinger and thumb, like Tom had just a few days before.
"Uh... well, it was from someone I used to know a long time ago," she paused... the words flowing from her lips as if someone else was cueing them there. "It was brought to me as a gift." Now where did that strange expression come from?
A muscle jumped in Sarah's jaw, but her gaze was hooded as she glanced at Jenny. "May I see it?" There was no mistaking that she had some sort of strange fascination for the ring and had it from the time she first glimpsed it.
Somehow Jenny felt drawn to hand it over. "Uh... sure." She slipped it off her neck and placed it in Sarah's cupped hands. Sarah twisted it over to read the inscription, then turned it around.
"It's very..." she never got a chance to finish her sentence. She stared down at the ring and her words dried up in her throat. The ring slipped from her suddenly nerveless fingers, but Sarah ignored it, sitting as still as if she was turned to stone. Jenny's brows drew together in confusion. Just what had shocked Sarah like that?
Sarah knew she looked very weird just sitting there, eyes wide with shock, but she just couldn't help it. She had been interested in that ring, but hadn't understood it until she saw it up close.
Not the ring itself. It was just an ordinary gold band and although the inscription was nice, that wasn't what caught her attention. No, it was on the front of the ring. Something she had seen before.
The insignia. Just once before had she ever seen that symbol, just once. Once when she was much younger, when a wild man offered her dreams, when she traveled an unbelievable land filled with mystery and adventure. Just once and she would never forget it. There was absolutely no mistake. The insignia on the ring and on Jareth's pendant were exactly the same.
