Growing Up

Disclaimer: Aside from Thomas, Meagan and Phirrip... I don't own much in this fiction right now.

Thomas stood by the doorway and surveyed the farm. His house was on the very furthest edge of the village, the closest one to the Labyrinth. He did well for a farmer, especially for one who lived so close to the Labyrinth. He personally felt attached to it, after all, his own parents had been wishers, for those who made the wish the Labyrinth was the closest to home they could get. Nonetheless, they'd done well.

Thomas was what you could call a middle class farmer; he did better than most, but not nearly as well as others. It was enough to get his small family by though. Speaking of which where had Sam gotten to. The child was absolutely sweet and obedient, most of the time.

It was an interesting situation that the farmer found himself in. Raising a daughter as a son is a difficult matter. Making her understand that she was different from the other children, and that, no, there was nothing necessarily wrong with you. It was just that times are hard and one must make due. After all, desperate times call for desperate measures.

'Sam' sat on the top of nice green hill, day dreaming about dragons and mountains and vast treasures and princes and princesses. Sam looked out across the rolling green to the ridge hill and the Labyrinth, the greatest construct in the whole world. Sam's father, Thomas told him that it was alive, Sam didn't know if this was true, but he knew enough to listen well and take everything in. Everything his parents told him was true in a way, or so they said, and any question that went unanswered would be answered later.

'Sam' was a small boy, by a boys standard, thin and lanky with delicate, pretty feminine features. Many of the boys in the village called him girly and no matter how often his father told him not to mind it, Sam did. The fact that his mother blatantly refused to cut his hair only made matters worse. Sam also liked to dream, even when he was awake and right now the one about the dragon of the Aggorian Mountains was just fine.

He looked out into the distance as the wind ruffled his long hair. Though the greatest structure in the underground lay stretched out before him like some giant coiling snake, he paid it no heed. The Labyrinth would always be there, just as it always had been. It was the oldest thing in the Underground, some said. They also said it would outlast man and fae, beast and monster and that when the world was over there the Erlking would sit on his throne. The king of oblivion and ruler of nothingness.

Sam slowly dragged his thoughts from the great high-flying to himself. It was his day of birth. His tenth one, he was officially ten. Ten years of being slightly more different from every other boy in the whole village. That meant his parents were going to tell him another secret, another reason for all of their ridiculous rules.

Last year's secret was that the Erlking might come for him and take him into the Labyrinth so that Sam might serve him. Sam had alternately had the most amazing dreams and nightmares over the weeks following. Though that was all they told him, how it applied to his personal situation and extra schooling, Sam hadn't the slightest clue. From what he understood, his birth and future were very much tied to the Labyrinth, though how and why were still beyond.

Sam's attention once again turned to the panoramic view before him. All those green rolling hills, he remembered just last year when he'd nearly lost two sheep due to day dreaming. Sam grimaced, he'd been thoroughly scolded for that, sheep were of high value. The world was too dangerous for day dreamers or anyone who didn't pay too close attention to their surroundings.

In this particular area of the Underground magical beasts and creatures were common. Lesser ladon wandered or rather slithered in the hills along with manticores and chimeras were far too common for comfort. Occasionally Centaur herds came through, but thankfully, their fearful hate of the Labyrinth and the Erlking made them keep a good distance. There was even talk of Hydras in the wetlands, thank Dannan there weren't any too close to the village. The village had seasonal plunders by either faeries or nomadic bandits. Then there was the Labyrinth, the giant maze-thing that nothing normal seemed to be able to live near, much less in. From his hill, Sam could just see the top of the walls of the Labyrinth and in the distant haze, the turrets of the Erlking's castle. The village and the surrounding area were considered quite safe, for the underground standards.

Today was different though, Sam was lucky enough to celebrate his day of birth on a day of feasting. That meant that he wasn't the only one excluded from work. His friends were also free from the usual chores, the people who weren't his friends were also work-free, but they didn't come up here. The only person who he didn't like who did come up here was…

"Oy, Sam! What're ya' do'n up 'ere?"

…Phirrip.

"Ach, Sam, it's good ta' see ya'! An' look, what a fine, fine day! Enjoy'n th' view?"

From the moment Sam had first met him he didn't like him. His mother had told him that the dislike would fade, but even after three years Sam still didn't like Phirrip. When his mother had asked him what about Phirrip he didn't like Sam simply couldn't explain it; it was one of those things that just couldn't be explained. It was an inexplicable thing, one of the mysteries of the world. Then again there was something about his eyes.

Sam turned and fixed Phirrip with the look. It was a solemn, cool look. It was a look that gave nothing away. There was no fear in it, no kindness, nothing. It was just a look, and it freaked the hell out of Phirrip. He knew it did, Phirrip got a funny look in his eyes when he was edgy about something and nothing made Phirrip get that look in his eyes than the cool, cold stare.

"I was jus' com'n ta' tell ya' tha' yer friends are lookin' for ya'. Get on wi'em!" Phirrip smiled genially at Sam. Sam said nothing. Instead he stood and left. Phirrip watched smiling.

As soon as Sam was over the hill, Phirrip's smile vanished. The boy had learned early on that silence unnerved him and got quieter than Jareth would when properly pissed and it took quiet a bit of effort to get the Erlking properly pissed, few lived to tell though. It seemed to Phirrip that all it took for Sam to get properly pissed was to have Phirrip within silence range.

Phirrip watched as Sam picked up speed down the hill. "That boy might as well be the son of the Erlking." He muttered. He continued to watch Sam leave and cocked his head to the side. There was something funny about that boy. Sam seemed a might too… female. Phirrip turned and looked out over the hill. Eh, it was probably just his imagination. He had to get down to business. The harvest had been down the past decades, they wanted answers, and answers meant results.

Meanwhile, in a rather dingy and depressing looking part of the castle at the centre of the Labyrinth, Jareth sat, scanning through old texts for some clue to that bloody girl child who'd appeared before him in a vision nine… or was it ten… no, nine… nine years ago.

Jareth promptly finished reading the last page of the book, flipped it closed and tossed it over his shoulder into the immense pile that was steadily growing behind him. Then he sat back and glared at the boundless mess of books that lay before him in the vast, be-shelved room. He'd been looking for anything on anything to do with her for nine years and he hadn't found sock… he closed his eyes… shit, he hadn't found shit, not sock, shit, only Goblins said sock.

He leaned forwards and put his head in his hands. Why they used the name of their favorite food as a curse he had no knowledge, on the other hand they also said things like 'praise sock' and 'damn you to clean'… Good Goddess he needed to get away from them, he was starting to pick apart their terminology. A long walk in his private gardens would do the trick… a week in his private gardens and he'd be his own self again.