Title: The Bestest
Author: Yodeladyhoo
Beta: Danika Lareyna
Summary: What if it was all about the boy ?
Genre: Fantasy
Pairings: none
Rating: K
disclaimer (dĭs-klā'mər): noun 1. (law) a voluntary repudiation of a person's legal claim to something
2. denial of any connection with or knowledge of syn: disavowal
c.1986, 2006 The Jim Henson Company.
LABYRINTH is a trademark of The Jim Henson Company.
Labyrinth characters c.1986 Labyrinth Enterprises.
All rights reserved, but not by me.
All rights are reserved, but not by me. This short story is a work of fiction. All original characters in this story are fictional. Permission for the use of the non original characters has not been requested by the author or granted by the licensor. This short story was written for your perusal and pleasure, no compensation, either financial or actual, has been collected or requested.
Plea for Reason: If you do for one, you do for all. A Mother's Perspective was for Mother's Day, this is for Father's Day.The barn owl landed silently on a large branch of the chestnut tree.
The extended family was setting out a picnic in the clearing between the man-made pond and the manicured tree line. Chatting, two women playfully wrestled with the breeze that tugged the red and white checkered cloth they were attempting to place on the grass. A little girl ran ahead, past the bridge she just crossed towards the far shore of the lake, leading a younger man who loped after her at a comfortable pace. An older man was still coming over the stone bridge slowly. He took in the bucolic scene with bespectacled vision and a smile on his face. "Your sister used to love coming to this part of the park."
"I know, Dad," the younger man said over his shoulder. He kept his eyes on the blond headed little girl, who was unsure of what her next action should be; should she chase the ducks or their cocker spaniel? Patsy had no confusion as to his actions; the ducks were too enticing to the pup.
"Pity she can't be here with us today," the older man said, sadly. The older woman smiled and rubbed her husband's shoulder in sympathy.
The blond man meandered to where the rest of the adults had gathered. "Life's life, Dad." His daughter had moved sufficiently far away from the pond not to warrant his propinquity, but she was young enough to require constant vigilance. Right now, she was heading towards the wooded section.
"Hoot, hoot. "
The owl looked down at the child. From his vantage point, her blue eyes seemed to dominate her young face; a sweet face. In the subdued light of the sheltered glade, and if he turned his head a certain way, he could almost see resemblances to her face.
No, I'm not going to think about her, Jareth admonished himself. The owl merely shook its head and resettled its wings.
"Whatcha doin' there, Mr. Owl? Aren'tcha s'pposed to sleep in the daytime?" The girl asked, scrunching her nose in curiosity.
An intelligent child. This one's eyes are so much like another intelligent babe's…Jareth's thoughts wandered as his avian eyes scanned the open space and landed on the man in his prime. He was lounging on the grass, laughing easily as the younger woman bustled and busied herself with laying out the picnic lunch. Every so often, the young father would scan the tree line with his steely, blue eyes, trying to get a glimpse of his daughter.
He is at ease with himself, yet he is mindful of what is his, Jareth commented to himself. He watched as the man rose to his height of just under six feet and ensnare the younger woman by the waist. The visual melding of his white shirt with light khaki shorts and her rose tinted madras bermuda short set gave the couple a singular, peach colored aura. She jokingly protested half-heartedly, her face breaking into a smile as he nuzzled her neck.
"Hey, you two! Not in public!"
"All right, Mom," the young man conceded, sheepishly. To his wife, he muttered, "We've been married how long now?"
"Six years," she responded with a playful swat on his arm.
Passionate, too. Jareth smirked internally. A bird's facial musculature just did not have the capabilities to do so externally.
"I'm going to check up on Kimmy," the young man said lazily to his wife as he headed for the tree line.
The young mother huffed in exasperation, "that girl can get into more mischief than a gaggle of goblins." She shook her head in resignation, causing her shoulder length blond hair to sway and graze her delicately featured face.
"I see you've been talking to my sister lately," her husband retorted, dryly. His older sibling had a wild imagination and an energetic style to her vivid story telling, even after veterinarian school. Not that he minded her telling his daughter fantastic fairy tales for bedtime stories; he just could not get into them. He felt somewhat jaded to them, as if the stories could not compare to the reality that only he knew. No, he was a man who was firmly seated in facts and science, even if he was a fantasy magazine illustrator. He was good at it and it paid the bills and the mortgage.
His wife merely shrugged and gave an enigmatic smile.
"Kimmy!"
"Over here, Daddy! Lookit what I found!"
"Look at what I found," he corrected as he approached. Following the indication of the four year old's pudgy finger, he shaded his eyes with his hand against the early afternoon sun as he gazed up to the tree branch where he spotted her discovery. "An owl?"
Sidling up to her father's leg, the little girl responded with adoration written all over her expressive face. "Uh-huh. What's he doin' up now, Daddy?" He dropped a hand onto her shoulder, drawing the child closer to him.
"Good question." Her father pursed his lips in thought. "Maybe he's old and sick and has his days and nights confused." The compact predator stretched out its wings, showing off its creamy plumage and impressive wingspan. Glaring indignantly at him, he refolded them against his solid body. Mustn't anthropomorphize, the man thought to himself.
"Not all owls sleep in the daytime. Maybe he's out hunting for a mouse to bring back to his chicks. How about we sit down next to the tree and maybe, if we're real quiet and still, we'll see him catch his lunch."
As the pair settled themselves at the base of the tree, Jareth mused. He takes the time to give the child thoughtful answers. He enjoys the time he spends with her. His mind wandered into dangerous territory for him: the past.
Jareth allowed this transgression. Although he had traveled far too often down the path that followed the shattering of his pride that she had caused, he rarely had the inclination to think about the boy. Seeing this child with her father made him realize what could have been his. True, he had spent a brief day with the babe; it was the only one out of so many over the centuries he had wanted to spend time with. Once he found the key to the child's good humor, he was more than happy to amuse him with rousing song and cuddling. He actually found the wee lad's innocent curiosity stimulating, and was starting to look forward to raising the boy as his own when she breeched the city's rear gate. He then realized what a prize this child was. He would have done anything, even sacrifice himself to her, to retain him. It would have been worth the price of love to finally have a protégé; someone to share with and pass his knowledge on to; someone of an expanding intelligence to spend time with. There was a yawning chasm of bitterness and anguish over what was not.
I would have enjoyed spending time with you, Toby, just as much as I enjoyed cuddling and entertaining you as a babe. I could have shown you mornings of gold as the sun rose over ourhome, the magnificent Labyrinth, and painted its walls like a canvas in orange and rose. You would have been raised where nothing ever hurts, the Underground. You would have never been lost and lonely, ever. I would have placed the entire sky within your eyes.
How proud you could have made me as you grew and learned to walk and talk. The songs I would have sung to you and the songs we could have sung together. Now, I shall never know the lessons you could have shown me. Every thrill is now gone.
The things I could have taught you, my surrogate son. How to gentle the beast before you learn to ride her. The paths we could have ridden. The hunts that you could have participated in. Your first blooding shall never happen with me.
And at night, my boy, I would have enjoyed showing you all that our serene land has to offer under a crystal moon. The wonders of a faery ring; the paths between the stars. But, that world has fallen down.
"Toby! Kimmy!" The distant sound of a woman's voice broke the watchers out of their reverie.
In a hushed tone, the girl spoke to her father. "Daddy, Mommy's calling us."
In an equally hushed voice, her father responded, "Mm-hmm."
"Daddy?"
"Yes?"
"Why are we whispering?"
"I don't know."
The blonde imp tumbled out from her father's lap and shrieked as only a four year old could; the laugh of pure innocence and joy. He joined in the laughter, wallowing in her happiness.
"I suppose we should see what Mommy wants. Shall we say goodbye to your friend?"
The child looked up into the canopy, found what she was looking for and waved her hand. "Goodbye, Mr. Owl. I hope you find a tasty mouse for your babies."
The owl's eyes were hooded, giving it the appearance that it was lost in thought. The breeze that rustled the deep green leaves of the trees dared not ruffle its feathers.
"Let's go, Kimmy. I think Mommy has lunch ready for us."
She turned her face quickly from the canopy to her father's face and beamed. "You're the bestest daddy in the whole, wide world!"
Toby let out a dramatic false groan as he happily picked his daughter up. "Why, thank you! That's quite a lot to live up to. I'm not even sure if a king could live up to that!"
If I were to only have been given the opportunity…
Toby pulled his face away from Kimmy's and made a comical scowl. "You remind me of the babe."
She giggled at the shared poetic banter that she had often played with her father, "What babe?" Her father ruffled the curls at the crown of her head.
He turned his back to the tree and headed out of the woods. "The babe with the power."
"What power?"
The barn owl took to the air with powerful down strokes, his soul lighter than when he had landed.
Author's Note: I've done it for you. Now, please return the favor. Review. Thank you.