trinityday (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
trinityday) wrote2009-08-29 12:46 pm
trinityday) wrote2009-08-29 12:46 pm
Entry tags:
Ficlet: She Danced on
Title: She Danced on
Fandom: Labyrinth
Characters: Sarah, Jareth
Word Count: 608
Written for:voksen's prompt on "lj user="comment_fic", Jareth/Sarah, if she stayed
She danced.
Her feet hurt. The opportunity take a break and rest a moment had not yet arisen; every time she tried to catch her breath a new song would play. She found herself completely unable to sit a single one of them out, not even for long enough to inspect the damage to her shoes, which were surely ruined by now. The satin seemed to have worn through at the big toe, and the back of her left heel felt like it had been rubbed raw.
After awhile, though, she got used to dancing through the pain.
Soon she forgot to worry about it at all.
It was some time later when the king asked her for the honour of a dance. Her deep curtsey and demure downward glance pleased His Majesty, who smiled widely enough to show off all his teeth before taking her hands in his and whisking her through the other couples.
His words, when they came, were unexpected. “Is it all you ever dreamed of?”
“Yes,” Sarah breathed before she could even think of the question or what he meant by it. The answer satisfied him, and that was all that really mattered.
Jareth passed her off to lord in a red mask, but she found she didn’t mind no longer being in his arms when the king walked off the dance floor, long, lithe strides that matched the rhythm of the music but were too purposeful to be called dancing. She wanted nothing more than to stay in this sea of masks and dance all night.
Shortly after the clock struck, she caught sight of him once again, standing by a wall watching the dancers twirl around the room. He held in his arms a young boy with soft blond hair
Their eyes singled her out from the crowd, the youth as fascinated by her movements as the king.
There was no reason to avoid going over to them and starting a conversation. She knew Toby; the king couldn’t begrudge his ward a visit from an old acquaintance. If not that, then she could make believe that she needed a drink, an excuse to get closer to him.
Her throat was parched, a fact that only occurred to her now that she paused to think. It would not be make believe if she went over to the pair in search of libations.
Around the edges of the room was table after table of a forgotten feast. Goblets of fine wine were strewn carelessly on all available surfaces, abandoned and forgotten. The most delicate desserts had been prepared for the party-goers, made from three types of chocolate, spun sugar and crisp sorbets, all still pristine works of art. There were fountains full of the clearest water, the mere thought of which was enough to make her lick her lips with her too-dry tongue. She hadn’t ventured near them all night.
No one had.
Before she could make up her mind to go over, the king left, taking the boy with him.
She forgot to worry about whether the king would favour her above the others, or even if he would take notice of her when he returned, or why she should know the boy he had brought with him. Her thirst, so sharp a moment ago, faded to a pleasant dream. She would remember it when she looked back, for every detail of this night was something to treasure until her dying days.
A new song began and a new partner reached for her hand. Taking it, a laugh escaped her cracked lips. Everything about this night was absolutely perfect.
She danced on.
Fandom: Labyrinth
Characters: Sarah, Jareth
Word Count: 608
Written for:
voksen's prompt on "lj user="comment_fic", Jareth/Sarah, if she stayedShe danced.
Her feet hurt. The opportunity take a break and rest a moment had not yet arisen; every time she tried to catch her breath a new song would play. She found herself completely unable to sit a single one of them out, not even for long enough to inspect the damage to her shoes, which were surely ruined by now. The satin seemed to have worn through at the big toe, and the back of her left heel felt like it had been rubbed raw.
After awhile, though, she got used to dancing through the pain.
Soon she forgot to worry about it at all.
It was some time later when the king asked her for the honour of a dance. Her deep curtsey and demure downward glance pleased His Majesty, who smiled widely enough to show off all his teeth before taking her hands in his and whisking her through the other couples.
His words, when they came, were unexpected. “Is it all you ever dreamed of?”
“Yes,” Sarah breathed before she could even think of the question or what he meant by it. The answer satisfied him, and that was all that really mattered.
Jareth passed her off to lord in a red mask, but she found she didn’t mind no longer being in his arms when the king walked off the dance floor, long, lithe strides that matched the rhythm of the music but were too purposeful to be called dancing. She wanted nothing more than to stay in this sea of masks and dance all night.
Shortly after the clock struck, she caught sight of him once again, standing by a wall watching the dancers twirl around the room. He held in his arms a young boy with soft blond hair
Their eyes singled her out from the crowd, the youth as fascinated by her movements as the king.
There was no reason to avoid going over to them and starting a conversation. She knew Toby; the king couldn’t begrudge his ward a visit from an old acquaintance. If not that, then she could make believe that she needed a drink, an excuse to get closer to him.
Her throat was parched, a fact that only occurred to her now that she paused to think. It would not be make believe if she went over to the pair in search of libations.
Around the edges of the room was table after table of a forgotten feast. Goblets of fine wine were strewn carelessly on all available surfaces, abandoned and forgotten. The most delicate desserts had been prepared for the party-goers, made from three types of chocolate, spun sugar and crisp sorbets, all still pristine works of art. There were fountains full of the clearest water, the mere thought of which was enough to make her lick her lips with her too-dry tongue. She hadn’t ventured near them all night.
No one had.
Before she could make up her mind to go over, the king left, taking the boy with him.
She forgot to worry about whether the king would favour her above the others, or even if he would take notice of her when he returned, or why she should know the boy he had brought with him. Her thirst, so sharp a moment ago, faded to a pleasant dream. She would remember it when she looked back, for every detail of this night was something to treasure until her dying days.
A new song began and a new partner reached for her hand. Taking it, a laugh escaped her cracked lips. Everything about this night was absolutely perfect.
She danced on.