42This is my first foray into writing a Labyrinth fic, it's been a long time coming. Especially now as I'm trying to wrangle time from family life for writing after a break of about 10 years.
Reviews, comments or questions?
Yes please! They'd be very welcome, it's been a while, be gentle with me if you can! Oh and do forgive any English phrasing or spellings, I'm a Brit through and through, though I try to use to American phrasing when necessary; sometimes watching too much tv actually pays off!
Disclaimer: Clearly Labyrinth and all there in do not belong to me, and I will not be earning anything from my little story. Just a little jaunt around my imagination, lots of fun no legal entanglements.
Prologue
If only she had listened, paid more attention, took heed of the warnings.
Been less self-involved perhaps.
They were right there all the time and yet, she just couldn't see it, too busy playing the wronged heroine. Too stubborn and conceited to see the whole picture.
And realise there are always reasons and always limits. Always boundaries one shouldn't push too hard against, lest they start pushing back.
And lines that once crossed are almost impossible to retrace steps back to.
In other words, it was a big mess.
Awakening
Awareness came slowly, like awakening from a very deep sleep Sarah groggily clawed into reality. She could smell nature and felt a light breeze as it danced gently along her arms. She was somewhere outside, the scent of greens, grass and tree bark and the trickling of water somewhere nearby tickled at her senses.
Where was she? What the hell had happened? Her head felt very weird, a little bit large and fuzzy, tender like the feeling that follows a migraine. She opened her eyes as gradually as she could, expecting those to be extra sensitive as well, though was relieved when they were not. They seemed to be ok, even as she glimpsed the bright sunlight glistening on the stream just down the hill.
It was a beautiful day.
It looked like the park, her park, which was surprising, she'd almost expected to see some part of the Labyrinth again. There was no storm in sight. Sitting up gingerly Sarah felt better than she expected. Whatever had happened, at least it hadn't killed her, which had been the most terrifying possibility. A little head rush passed quickly, and her hand went to her forehead. That automatic gesture for checking yourself over. Ingrained from childhood when parents check on the health of their child. As usual Sarah feared for her health, physically and mentally just like all the other times she'd had a confrontation with him.
But it didn't have the desired effect, something wasn't quite right. Her head was weird, felt a bit off somehow. Whatever mindfuck J had played this time was a doozy. She was vaguely aware of that spark of anger igniting once more. Burning away at her from the inside.
Breathe Sarah, remember the breathing techniques, don't let him do this to you. Is that it? Had she got so wound up it had triggered a panic attack? Maybe collapsed? But what about now, what was going on? Why did her head, face too feel weird, like they didn't even belong to her? And then she saw it.
She held out her arms and stared in horror. Looked at her hands too, they looked tiny. She blinked slowly a couple of times hoping to clear the image her eyes were surely misrepresenting. If only they were wrong now. They were never playing tricks though, how many times had she been told her eyesight was perfect.
Or dammit had he done something even worse this time, was she an effing Borrower now or what?! Casting him ever the evil to her innocent.
And then she looked down, and Sarah knew the truth very suddenly, so clearly it was almost painful. She felt hot tears prickling behind the vision. Her heart hammered, and her stomach clenched, a vague nausea rising fast.
No, not a small person exactly, she stood up though immediately leaned against the tree; it's beautiful age-old sinews lending her the support she desperately needed both morally and physically. She had loved this tree from childhood.
It was the dress that gave it all away. Gut-wrenchingly obvious now, there was really no mistaking it. She knew.
Sarah was wearing a cornflower blue and white Victorian style floral patterned dress and pinafore. Her mother had brought it home from a fancy period costume shop in London.
It had been her favourite when she was 8-years-old.