Disclaimer: The following is an old Labyrinth fan fiction I wrote for a Labyrinth fan fiction group years ago. Labyrinth belongs to Henson. Most, if not all, of the Labyrinth fan fiction I am going to post here is at least ten years old, if not older. You will see the original dates they were written placed into these documents. These fan fictions predate the canon of Return to Labyrinth.
To: .
Subject: [labyfic] Though we're strangers (Repost) Part 1
From:
Date: Wed, 12 Apr 2000 22:45:32 EDT
Small Notice:
This Labyrinth based fiction is a sort of sequel to Wanna live
Underground. It contains the character of Tariel of Blackrose first conceived
of by Christine at . And the character of Jerrie, first
conceived of by Sarah at .
The plot of this miner Labyrinth fan fiction was * Very loosely *
based on ideas conceived of in The America Online Labyrinth role playing
game. Other inspirations are from the original Underground music video clip,
the Look back in Anger music video clip and the As the world falls down video
clip (which was never publicly released but is available in The Bowie Video
Collection, released to home videotape and digital video disc in 1993).
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Though we're Strangers
The secret identity of Jeremy King.
He wanted to laugh about it and yet he did not. He was more
then a little pleased with himself in creating for himself the second life,
this human identity that he could escape in to on a whim. He was living a
second life. He felt like a child's comic book figure. He felt rather like
a super hero or a secret espionage agent in some long forgotten war story.
But there was no war but the war between his desires and his own
responsibilities. And he did not slip off from The Underground to be Jeremy
King to save to word or do anything truly, utterly fantastic. He did it to
keep his sanity. And he did it to be human
Jeremy King walked quickly down the long and narrow five flights of
stairs to get to the front entrance of the old, run down building. When he
reached the first floor he paused as a wooden door swung open.
"Good day, Mrs. Hayes." He had said that with a forced smile as
the hard faced old woman stepped out in to the hall. She was a harsh, cold
and emotionless creature, this woman. A bitter old creature, she was. She
wore an angora bathrobe. Her feet were in a pair of cotton slippers. Her
dyed red hair was up in tiny plastic curlers. Her appearance disgusted him.
She was at least seventy. She acted as if she had lived one thousand one
hundred and thirty five years.
He could make out the distinct sound of a baby crying from
behind her. She was looking after her newborn niece again and from the sound
of it not doing such a fantastic job of it too.
Her thin, gnarled and arthritic hands rested on her hips. Her
dried out, thin and cracked lips curled in to a sneer as she narrowed her
tiny, pinhole like eyes at him. The expression upon her face only made her
age lines all the more apparent. "The rent's due on Thursday, Jeremy! I
don't wanna hear nuthin' 'bout you bein' tied up for it. Ya had betta pay or
gather up your things and move along out. Ya hear me, boy?"
"Yes, Mrs. Hayes." He said as he walked out the front door and
towards the street. Why should he allow someone like that to bother him? He
never felt so free as he did in the form of Jeremy King. If he had been
Jareth, The Goblin King however that poorly aging woman might have found
herself to be neck deep in the filth of The Bog of Eternal Stench.
Mrs. Hayes did not like Jeremy King at all. She did not like him
one tiny bit. She did not trust him an inch. He had just appeared there a
long while ago with a hand full of money and asking for a room to rent to act
as his home and art studio. He was too smug. He was far too self-assured.
And he never acknowledged his low status in the social ladder at all. For a
poor, scrubby street rat he was far too damned self-assured. He had no past.
He had no real identification and never once did he speak up about his
family to anyone at all. He was a very self contained man though he was
polite to his neighbors when they would greet him in passing.
Jeremy King just did not act right according to Mrs. Hayes. There
was just something different about him. There was just something odd about
him. He was too peculiar. There was just something about him. He just did
not act right at all. There was just something about him that was just=E2=80=A6
wrong.
Thirteen years ago the young girl, Sarah Williams had solved his
Labyrinth. In this disguise of a mortal man named Jeremy King- Jareth, The
Goblin King now walked alone down the busy city street. It was early in the
month of March. It was still early yet in the evening yet to him it could
just as easily have been midnight. His eyes were down cast. He placed his
hands in to the pockets of his long, worn, old jacket that draped around him
rather like a cape. His short, somewhat curly sandy blond hair was
disheveled and tangled. His long, slightly spiked bangs blew in to his eyes.
Often he would slip off to Earth now. He spent nearly half of his
time here on Earth lately as this simple artist, Jeremy King as opposed to
living in the abject chaos of The Underground and being forced to try and
attempt to keep order in such madness. He was emotionally exhausted and
aching.
The last words that Sarah Williams had said to him, Jareth, The
Goblin King, still echoed in his mind even after all this time. He could
remember it all too clearly. "You have no power over me." Again he had
lost. A small fraction of his confidence was now lost to him and he
wondered if there could ever be a way for him to redeem himself to himself.
Sarah no longer needed him or his reality. She had let it all go
for the sake of convention. Now she was a woman. Now she held a steady
employment and seemed to be doing quite well for herself, living a
conformable, and to him, terribly drab life style. He did not need to
interfere with all of that. She was happy in her place now on Earth. She
had found her way in to the part, as it were. And that was all that seemed
to matter, that she at least believed that she was happy. He knew that she
secretly believed in him still. She had not forgotten the truth of her
adventure though his Labyrinth. At least the lesson had been taught and what
she had to have been taught that fateful night so long ago she had learned.
It had been so long since then. He did not know why he felt so
melancholy about it all now.
The air was chilly this evening. The wind had picked up a bit and he
was walking against it. He up-turned the collar of his jacket to help
protect from the wind. His head was slightly bowed. This did minimal good
against the whether but he would never complain about it really, or at least
you would never here Jeremy King complaining about it.
The lone woman waked down the street. There was a large, heavy
brown, paper bag in her arms and she carried with her the grace of royalty
with her head held high.
She was never one to be unsure of herself. She had a place to go
and an intention as well.
The proud and forceful woman answered only to the name of Elania.
Elania hastened her pace in her walk. She was very nearly out of breath.
In her arms she carried the large brown, paper bag filled with new, freshly
bought art supplies. She had spent all of the afternoon shopping.
She was a tall woman. She was not at all unattractive. Her raven
hair ran down her back. She wore a blue dress of oriental design, something
of centuries before though in this modern city such eccentric fashions did
not cause hardy a raised eyebrow to question against it.
She wanted to return to her flat as quickly as possible. She
had things to be done and all before dawn. And she still had not prepared
her own supper and she was famished. She was a very independent creature and
hated when others would attempt to do menial tasks for her. She was very
strong willed and rather aggressive. If she wanted something it would be
done eventually. She lived by the simple philosophy that if you truly want
for something to be done then all you would have to do is act. Nothing is
accomplished unless someone acts. You should never have to take only what
you are given. That was the belief by which she had always lived and always
would live by.
There was a competition for artists who specialized in works of
fantasy and surrealistic imagery a week from Saturday. Elania was determined
to win out at this. She needed the acknowledgement. She knew that she wasa
good artist. All she truly needed was the right opportunity for her career
to truly lift off of the ground. This very well could be it. And then- then
she would show them all. She did not need anyone's help!
It looked as if it might rain soon and Elania was not dressed
properly for it at all. She felt fortunate that she was walking with the
wind rather then against it. Her flat was hardly even a block further away
from where she was now.
Her shoe heals clicked against the pavement as she walked.
She hated those wretched things. It had been a man who surely must have
invented those horrid things. And if most men were so incline to believing
that they made the leg all the more appealing to the eye then why did not
those bastards wear them? She usually would wear flat based shoes. The
heals were hurting her badly by now. She should never have had put those
things on. She had no real idea as to why she had put them on. She was
never one to conform to anyone's idea of what was physically appealing. The
ephemeral, superficial image meant almost nothing to her.
He did not see the woman coming towards him. He had not been paying
any mind to anything that stood in front of him. By the time he had looked
up the collision had already occurred.
She had seen him. She was about to walk around the handsome fellow
with the peculiar eyes when the back of her heal had cough itself, wedged in
a break in the concrete. One of them made a noise that sounded like a
startled scream and she was certain that it had not been her. She fell on
top of him and he landed back, hitting his bum hard on the pavement. She had
dropped her bag and her shoe had fallen from off her foot.
"Blasted things never did fit right." She mumbled as she caught
herself in the awkward situation of nearly lying right on top of the man's
belly. She scurried back like a spider caught in the light.
To: .
Subject: [labyfic] Though we're strangers (Repost) Part 2
From:
Date: Wed, 12 Apr 2000 22:45:59 EDT
He smiled at her. Who was at fault here? He had not been watching
where he had been going, true enough but he had never been clumsy enough to
walk right in to someone. He would never confess that as they fell that it
had been he that had screamed out.
Elania picked up her shoe and leaning against the brick wall of an
old building she placed it where it belonged.
"I'm terribly sorry about this." The peculiar man said to her.
She looked at him with casual physical interest. She liked the
sound of his voice. "It's quite all right. It's my fault really." She said
as she went to gather up some jars of paint, the ones that had not cracked
open upon impact in the fall and placed them back in to her bag.
"No, really. I should have been more conscious of where I was
walking." He wanted to laugh at himself. No one would know him as Jareth,
The Goblin King like this. The Goblin King would never, ever apologize to
anyone even if he had in fact made a mistake. No one would ever dream to
suspect that he was more then what he appeared to be. They would take their
preconceived notions about the man they saw too easily for granted.
He noticed what she was doing, scurrying about for her lost items.
"Oh, Here. Let me help you out with that."
He bent down and took the bag from her and finished gathering
up the rest of her lost brushes, small jars of paint, sponges, and pens.
She stood up, as did he as soon as he had repackaged most
everything that was salvageable. "Thank you so much." She said.
"It wasn't anything really." He said.
He held the bag in both arms. It was actually quite heavy. He
tried to maintain carrying it all in his right arm as the woman held her hand
out to him. "My name's Elania."
He shook hands with her politely. "I am Jeremy King." He smiled.
He had realized quickly enough that she was an artist from the matter
of what was contained in her bag.
"Oh, you are an artist, I see."
"Yes, well=E2=80=A6 Only an amateur, really." She said.
He smiled. "I would like to see some of your work sometime."
She held out her arms to retrieve the bag from him.
"Oh, no. I can carry this for you to wherever it is you were
walking."
"I really do not need any help but thank you just the same." She said
slightly defensively.
"Oh, it's really no trouble at all. I insist."
It was at this point that Jareth began to question his sanity.
Jareth, The Goblin King would never do this. It seemed that Jeremy King's
personality was a complete contrast to Jareth's all together.
Finally the woman, Elania shrugged her shoulders. "All right."
There was something strange and suspicious about this man. She
did not worry much over it though. She knew how to defend herself and would
do what she had to protect herself if need be. "My studio is just a little
ways up a head." She pointed towards a brick building complex just up the
block from where they stood.
They walked up a flight of stairs to the studio.
The room was filled with paintings and art supplies. Canvases of
incomplete paintings lay all around. Many drawing of mystical beings hung
with tacks to the far back wall.
He looked around with a fascinated smile. "These are yours?"
"Yes, most of them." She replied.
He placed the bag down on to a wooden chair. He stepped over toa
canvas and took a good look at a particular unfinished painting. It was of
an elven child. It seemed so real to Jareth that he could swear that he had
seen the child before.
"These are simply exquisite." He said as he reached out a hand,
very nearly touching the surface of the canvas but daring not to disturb it.
"Why, thank you." Said Elania with a smile. She stepped
behind him.
Seeing him now in the artificial lamp light of the studio she could see him
far better then she had on the street when they had collided. He actually
was a very handsome man.
Elania tried to be polite though she was not so very used to the
situation where she might have to be. He was far too clean of appearance to
be a homeless man. "What do you do for a living?" She asked.
"Oh, I dabble." He gestured to her painting. "And I'm a
performer. I sing at The Raven's Nest, you know that little hole in a wall of
a nightclub just few blocks away from here."
Her eyes widened in surprise. "Really? I sing too though it
does not really seem to be amounting to much."
"Well,-" He said simply and with a strangely honest and direct
curiosity. "-do you want it to amount to anything really or are you happy
where you are?"
She did not reply but only smiled a secret, knowing smile. It
was strange. It was as if he were piercing in to her very soul.
"It is my personal belief-" he said "-that happiness is far
more important then amounting tot anything other then what you would like to
be. If you are contented where you are then you should not try to aspire to
anything more unless you truly desire more. But if you are happy then you
should stay right where you are."
"Are you happy?"
He looked at her blankly. "I beg your pardon."
"Are you happy, Jeremy?"
He cleared his throat and forced out a slight laugh. He turned
and looked back to the painting.
He stood to be about five foot, ten inches tall. He wore tight jean
pants and black leather boots. He liked the way that felt. He wore a baggy
white T-shirt. Over his baggy white T-shirt he had on his old, worn leather
jacket. The jacket was long. It draped down and caressed his thighs. He
wore tattered leather gloves with the finger slots roughly cut off.
He appeared to be about thirty eight, maybe thirty nine years of age
and he looked to be more like a teenaged biker then an artist really with his
peculiar and eccentric fashion sense. He liked the way he looked though. He
knew that he was a very handsome man, despite his somewhat ragged and tired
appearance. He had thick, slightly curly, sandy blond hair. His long bangs
brushed in to his eyes.
And Elania noticed that he had the most unusual eyes. His left eye
was just slightly over dilated and seemed a deep, dark blue. His right eye
was a clear, icy blue.
She had seen slightly mismatched eyes like his before. She could
swear that she had but where?
He spoke up as if reading her thoughts. "We have been here before
but where or when I cannot tell."
She smiled.
"I had better be going." He said. "I would like to see you again,
Elania. Is there a chance that we could-"
She interrupted him. "I will be singing at a club two nights from now.
Maybe after the show we can perhaps have dinner together, maybe."
She was a very beautiful woman with her long dark hair and her feline
graces. He could not recall as to where or when or why but he could swear
that he had seen her somewhere before. And yet he could also recall meeting
with no one quite like her before.
"I would love to."
Elania took a pen out of a jug of pens and pencils from off of a
desk that stood near to the canvas that Jeremy King had been admiring. Elania
took a small piece of paper off of a blank note-pad and using the pen wrote
down her telephone number and the name of the nightclub that she would be
performing at as well as a time to be there.
She handed it over to him. He smiled.
Elania knew to be cautious with meeting with strangers in the city
but there was something to Jeremy King that she found oddly alluring.
He bid her a good night and left her to her studio.
Jareth the Goblin King leaned over in his throne. He yawned. The
Queen of Blackrose had to have been the dullest excuse for royalty in the
entire universe. What was the shrew bitching about now? Didn't she have
anyone else to harass?
His elbow rested on the arm of his throne. His head was tilted to
the side, resting in his hand.
He would have given anything to be on Earth just then in the
guise of the mortal, Jeremy King as opposed to this dealing with this dreary
nonsense.
He gave Tariel, The Queen of Blackrose a patronizing smile. His
eyes were half-massed and distant. He could not care less if his goblins had
raided her market place. They were goblins! What the Hell else was she to
expect from them? They raid and pillage! That's what goblins do! She was
boring him nearly to the point of tears.
"Jareth. Jareth! Jareth! Jareth, are you listening to me?
Are you listening at all to a word that I am saying to you?"
He sat up straight. "To be perfectly frank, my dear, half-breed,
No I am not listening to a word that you are saying. I could not care less
if my goblins are upsetting your people. They ARE goblins. That is what
they do!"
He loved the sudden expression of rage the swept across Tariel's
face. He loved to tease and torment her with the term "half-breed". Tariel
was one half elf and one half-human. Now, Jareth did not think that there
was anything at all wrong with this really but he knew that Tariel tried to
be quite discrete about her impurely elven ancestry to her people. She
seemed even ashamed about it. And so it was an easy target for him to aim
for to torment her with when he felt the need for idle amusement in provoking
her anger. He often wondered would she grow to be so frightfully upset at
him for calling her that if she knew at all that his mother had in fact been
human.
"Don't ever call me that!" She said through clenched teeth.
He smirked. Now this just made him want to taunt her even more.
Only now was this truly beginning to entertain him.
"And if you insist upon ignoring my warning, Goblin King, then my
people will take the antics of your goblins as a threat and be forced to take
defensive action!"
He raised an eyebrow. Was she actually hinting at provoking a war
over this? Was she ACTUALLY daring the threaten HIM? Oh, really now she did
seem to be over reacting just a bit.
"Oh, calm down, Half-breed. Really, now. You are intent of
making something of this that it does not have to be."
He did not see it happen. She had moved far quicker then he had
imagined that she could move. Apparently he had under estimated her powers.
The flash of light came quickly as she raised her arm in to the
air. The blast of electricity hit him with a sharp jolt in the chest. He
gasped. Falling backward against the back of the throne he stared at her
coldly.
"Need I remind you of who ACTUALLY holds more power?" She asked as
she placed down her hand.
He clenched his teeth, his hands gripped in to tight fists. He
seriously was developing a strong dislike for this woman.
"The problem will be dealt with, I trust!" She said.
A flash of blue light filled the throne room and she was gone.
The few goblins that had been present stared blankly where she
had stood. Someone had actually defied their master and he had not struck
back. They did not know what to make of this. But they knew that he was
upset and this meant that he would more then likely lash out at them over
this.
A particularly stupid, furry black goblin screamed in terror as he
was tossed from the window of the throne room. A loud splattering noise was
heard with a terrible thud.
Jareth felt much better now.
To: .
Subject: [labyfic] Though we're strangers (Repost) Part 3
From:
Date: Wed, 12 Apr 2000 22:47:27 EDT
Jeremy King adjusted the collar of his jacket as he walked in to the
crowded nightclub.
Moving like a cat in the jungle he made his way through the crowd
towards the small stage. He was early. Elania was still performing.
She stood on the stage in a pair of faded jean pants and a pink tank
top, sleeveless shirt that was two sizes too small on her. She wore slip on
shoes without socks. Her hair hung behind her in a partial ponytail.
She was beautiful, even in the poor lighting of this dingy place.
He would not be able to recall what song she was singing but her
voice- it rang like a bell. She truly was amazing. She had a great talent.
If she wanted she truly could make a career out of that voice alone.
She danced as she sang, like a seventeenth century gypsy around a
campfire. She moved with an agile grace. She swayed to the music as if
hypnotized by it. She truly was fantastic.
She saw him in the crowd. Those distinct eyes were the first thing
that she noticed. She was glad that he had actually come. She had not
thought that he would. But should she trust him? There was something very
peculiar about him. Oh, well, no matter. She could defend herself if she
had to.
Once the final song was finished he applauded with the crowd.
With his arm wrapped around her the two stood near to the bar.
"You were fantastic." He said to her.
"Thank you." She replied. "Maybe I can see you perform sometime in the
near future."
"But of course."
"Well, where should we go?" She asked.
"It's a nice night, I thought that maybe we should just go for a walk."
Just then a man who had been standing by quietly spoke up and
stepped towards them.
Jeremy retracted his arms from Elania.
The man seemed to completely ignore Jeremy all together. His hair was
dark and his eyes were brown. He was large of build and very muscular.
"Hello, Elania." The man said.
"Hello, Richi."
She looked at Jeremy and then at Richi. "Oh, Jeremy, this is Richard.
Richi here, owns the club."
Jeremy held out his hand. "It's a pleasure."
Richi did not return the favour. He gave Jeremy a suspicious, cold
gaze and then focussed his attention back to Elania. "You never gave me a
straight answer, Elania."
Elania frowned. She tensioned. Jeremy could almost feel the
pressure that she must have felt that she was under. She was obviously
uncomfortable around this particular man. "I told you already that I'm not
interested in-"
Jeremy interrupted her. "Excuse me, Richi, but isn't that a fire
hazard?" He was looking behind him at a pile of alcohol soaked wash rag
near to the back wall.
Richi turned and looked at the rags. At first he thought nothing
of it but as Jeremy and he both stared at the old wash rags for that split
moment the whole bundle abruptly burst in to flames.
Richi rushed over to put out the small blaze. As Richi was distracted
Jeremy grabbed Elamia's arm. "Come on."
She stared at him blankly. It was more then improbable but something
inside of her was certain that somehow Jeremy was responsible for that fire.
She had seen people before with unique abilities. Now she was more
suspicious of Jeremy King then she had been before. Could he be a
pyro-kinetic and if so then was he dangerous?
Everyone has their secrets.
"Come on!" He said again, trying to lead her to the door.
"But I have to help-"
"He doesn't need it. He can put it out himself. Let's go."
It did appear that Richi now had the flames under control.
They walked out in to the night. Under a street lamp Jeremy paused
and noticed that Elania was out of breath. She was breathing deeply. She
did not seem as if she was able to catch her breath. Her skin was pale. To
keep steady she leaned back against the lamppost.
"Are you all right?" Jeremy asked her.
"Yes=E2=80=A6. Yes, I'll be fine. It's just that earlier I had to put
someone in their place and it took a lot out of me."
"Oh? May I ask who?"
"Oh, just some pompous, over bearing, arrogant prick who thinks
that he has control over the entire universe."
He laughed slightly. "I think I happen to know a woman rather like
that."
"Was she your lover?" Suddenly she felt defensive. He was
attractive and seemed a fan of artistic creativity but that had to have been
too good to be true. Perhaps he was married. He was an attractive man,
physically but Elania knew well that looks could be deceiving. And then
there was the matter of that strange fire yet.
"Oh, Heavens no. I would have to be completely off my rocker to
ever even consider any form of intimate relationship with that =E2=80=A6 that woman.
That woman is so self-absorbed, so egotistical, whining, bitching, snobbish=E2=80=A6"
She repressed a laugh and continued for him "bratty, controlling,
manipulative, power-mad arse?"
"Yes. Apparently you and I have to deal with the same sort of
people on a daily routine."
"Apparently so."
"But don't let people like that exhaust you, love."
She looked at him curiously.
"If you push yourself to your limits then they know what they
have to aspire past in over coming you. Never show your true limitations to
your enemies."
"Now you sound like a general leading an army."
"Perhaps. Perhaps it is just a voice of experience. General?
Ha! King, rather=E2=80=A6." He smirked. "The King of the struggling artists."
She laughed. "Well, your majesty, I don't mind. I don't mind
at all"
She regained her composure and the two began to walk down the
block.
Gradually she began to feel comfortable around Jeremy. He
seemed polite, creative, open-minded and had a terrific sense of humour.
They walked to a small, shabby, slightly run down theatre to catch
a show of A Mid Summer Night's dream. They were given tickets to some very
good seats for such a little, dingy theatre. Jeremy seemed to know by name
all of the employees of the little establishment. He was seemingly
aquatinted with them all.
As the curtains opened Jeremy proudly pointed out. "Do you see
there, the background drop?" Elania leaned over. It was exquisitely
detailed, the backdrop. It looked more like an elaborate painting as opposed
to a typical play backdrop. It was so very detailed. It was amazing. It
was a shame that she would never have caught notice to such a good piece of
art in such shabby surroundings and set in such a way that it would almost
entirely be ignored. The shadows of the trees in the still image of the
backdrop seemed so real that she could almost swear that the players were
standing in some fantastical other place that they, the audience were viewing.
"My God! That is fantastic detail. Whoever painted that- I fear
their talent is going to waste here. I suppose there can be terrific art
anywhere, you just need to open your eyes and see it. It is a shame though,
that most of it goes unnoticed." She sighed.
Repressing what could easily have turned in to a wide grin Jeremy
nodded. He leaned over and whispered in to her ear proudly. "I painted the
backdrops and I had assisted with most of the set designs on this little
production."
She looked at the large, curtain like painting that stood as an excuse
for a play's backdrop. She looked to him to the painting again and again,
completely ignoring the actors who seemed to be rushing about the stage
speaking nonsense. "You?!?! You did that?"
He chuckled slightly. As he wrapped his arm around her.
There was no denying it, Jeremy King was a good artist.
"I had to find some means to pay the rent this month. I cannot very
well make money appear out of no where. If I could do that I think that my
neighbors might grow to be quite suspicious of me." He laughed somewhat
uneasily. "And I would rather not be burnt at the stake, thank you very
much."
She laughed. "Well, we can't have that, now can we?"
"No, we most certainly can't."
"That mustn't happen. Such a good artist should not be lost to
this world."
He leaned forward. She smiled faintly and on impulse he kissed
her. Her soft lips pressed in to his own. The salty taste sent a rush of
sensation through Elania. It was almost as if a charge of electricity passed
through them. There was something almost magical to this. They both could
feel it.
A short while later, after the two had settled arm in arm in to
their seats properly to watch the show Elania turned around in her seat.
Jeremy noticed her stirring almost immediately. It was towards the spot in
the play where Puck says to Oberon
"My fairy lord, this must be done with haste,
For night's swift dragons cut the clouds full fast,
And yonder shines Aurora's harbinger;
At whose approach ghost wand'ring here and there,
Troop home to churchyards: damned spirits all,
That in crossways and floods have burial,
Already to their wormy beds are gone,
For fear lest day should look their shame upon,
They willfully themselves exile from light,
And must for aye consort with black-browed night,
Oberon replies to this with, "But we are spirits of another sort."
Elania looked back towards the stage she seemed uneasy.
"What is it?" Asked Jeremy.
"I have this feeling=E2=80=A6 I must be paranoid." She shook herhead.
"=E2=80=A6But I could swear that someone was following us."
He had made it a rule to try and divide being Jareth, The Goblin King
and then being Jeremy King as best he could, which meant not to rely on his
powers in that form unless absolutely necessary. Quietly he let his mind
relax and waited. In only a few short moments he could sense it. There was
a man in the back of the theatre and he was not watching the play. He was
watching Elania.
Turning his head just slightly to the side Jeremy glanced in
the reflection of a small mirror that hung for light reflection on to the
stage. Narrowing his all too human, and faulted eyes that he had in that
form he could see clearly in the reflection the image of Richi. He stood
with his arms folded along the far back wall..
Sitting forward again Jeremy muttered under his breath "This could
prove to be a problem."
Making a casual gesture with his hand Jeremy forced out a small bit
of magick, not wishing to exert his abilities. On Earth his powers were
already limited, and severely minimized but also the longer that he remained
on Earth without returning to The Underground, the less like Jareth, The
Goblin King he became and the more like Jeremy King he would transform. In
fact if he were to stay on Earth for too long a period of time he was bound
to forget entirely who he was and where he had truly come from. He would be
trapped, though by then not even realize that he was trapped, as the human
image of Jeremy King.
The door to janitorial supply closet just behind Richi swung open.
And a bit of crashing and clatter was heard as mops, brooms and a wash bucket
fell out. Startled and afraid of being caught in his stalking Richi abruptly
left the theatre.
Jeremy smiled to himself, proud of his own simple handiwork.
To: .
Subject: [labyfic] Though we're strangers (Repost) Part 4
From:
Date: Wed, 12 Apr 2000 22:48:00 EDT
After the show Jeremy walked Elania back to her home.
"I had a wonderful time." Elania said with a smile. "Though I
think Puck almost forgot his lines towards the end."
"He's new to the players in that troop. He just needs a little
time, is all."
"I suppose so. =E2=80=A6.I would like to see you again sometime."
"I would like to see you again as well. Shall I meet you
tomorrow? Will that be all right?" Asked Jeremy.
She nodded. "Yes, I would like that very much, actually."
He grinned. "Very well." He slipped in to quoting Macbeth.
"Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow=E2=80=A6"
Elania grinned and then finished the quote for
him.
"Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death, Out, out brief candle,
Life's but a walking shadow; a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more; it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing,"
Jeremy made a slightly disgusted face as Elania smiled. "What?"
"Well, if you say it like that then it is depressing as all Hell."
She laughed. "Good night, Jeremy."
"Good night, Elania."
For several months Elania and Jeremy King's romance continued fairly
much as their first night out together had been. Jeremy and Elania would
meet around the hour of dusk every night and for several hours they would do
whatever they pleased together though true intimacy had not yet occurred.
And that was perfectly all right. Physical pleasure did not have to be the
center focus for a romantic entanglement and Jareth could just imagine what
would happen if a mortal woman, whom he was not even "Jareth" for were to
find that she was pregnant with his child. The results could be disastrous.
They went nearly everywhere together. They went of together to see
theatre shows of musicals, plays, and even to the circus and petty magician
acts. They shared very similar interests and rarely ever argued but when
they did argue it was the sort of argument that one would take pleasure in
having because they were arguing over the same point of interest, making it
rather like an argument with one self. They would go to art shows and discus
many different art forms, form the surrealistic fantastical works of Brian
Froud to the bizarre pop art creations of artists like Clive Barker, Tim
Burton and J. O'Barr.
They went shopping together. Oddly, though both of them seemed to be
in a low income of financial support, life styles Jeremy always seemed to
have just enough money in his pockets to do as he pleased.
Sometimes they would just walk about the streets together, arm in
arm, admiring the might-scape. All and all it truly was a wonderful time
that they had with one and other though every now and again the sensation
would come up and Elania would pause. She would know that someone was
watching her as she was with Jeremy.
And each time Jareth would know that this was Richi watching them,
stalking after a woman that did not truly desire his company. And always
something of the most peculiar sort would happen to Richi. The oddest of
these things perhaps being that as he followed them to the park in the early
part of June and he found himself tripping, and falling on his back from
stepping on a puddle of slick ice, meanwhile the temperature was nearly
seventy eight degrees that day.
For almost a full eleven months the two spent their evenings together
and though by this time all the masculine instincts in Jareth were screaming
the two had not yet become truly physically intimate.
Half awake Jareth sat with a crystal in his hand. On his throne he
leaned forward. The crystal sown the image clearly in the light. The
beautiful young girl with the almond eyes and the caramel skin, Jerrie was
racing through the Labyrinth. She had only twenty minutes remaining to be
able to make it through his Labyrinth.
The young girl ran down the tiled passage of The Labyrinth. She
could not have been more then in her early twenties at best. Her curly dark
hair tangled in he face. She was determined to do this. She wore a long,
old fashioned dress, of colourful silk. As she ran she accidentally triggered
a trap by stepping on the wrong tile. The ground gave way from under her
feet with a mighty rumbling as the stone slab of a tile slid out from under
her.
Falling in to the shaft the beautiful young girl grabbed a hold of
the edge of the opening, stopping her own fall as best she could.
Dangling over the dark shaft she cried out desperately for her
husband "Thomas!" He could not help her. She knew that he could not. But
The Goblin King would not really let her die in his Labyrinth, would he?
Finally with a great effort of physical strength in finding her
footing along a stone she managed to climb back up in to the passage.
A bright blue light filled the throne room. Jareth groaned. He
knew who had appeared before looking up from his crystal orb.
It was the ever-annoying Queen, Tariel of Blackrose, again. The ever
annoying, half human- half elf, Queen of Blackrose stood before him. She was
a close friend of the girl that he was sending through the Labyrinth just
now. Of course she could not possibly keep it a secret that she was
half-human forever. Her ears alone would give her away, that and the fact
that she stood a striking, five foot eight inches tall. This was not at all
the usual elven height, not in the slightest.
Tariel looked at the crystal in Jareth's hand that now shattered in
his hand. The splinters glittered as they fall to the floor.
"How can you do that to her, Jareth? How can you do that to her?"
Tariel cried angrily.
"She asked for a chance to have a go at solving it, Tariel! I
am not at fault for it!"
"But she is your sister-in-law. She married your brother!"
"She married my half brother! And I am not all too keen on that
at all. And what would you know of what is really going on here anyway,
half-breed?"
"You would let her die in there!"
"I have no intention of allowing that to happen. I just want
her to remember just who is master of this place and how powerful I truly am.
She was the one that was certain that she could solve The Labyrinth."
"But you are putting her through Hell! She married your brother!"
"He is my HALF, brother, Tariel! And don't think I am all too
pleased about that! For one thing I have absolutely no idea what one half of
him IS, in fact! He weighs at least twenty pounds less then I do and is a
bloody alcoholic!"
"Who drove him to that, Jareth?" She crossed her arms.
"Oh, you can't possibly blame me for that!"
He formed another crystal in his hand to continue the
observations of his sister-in-law trying in her near to futile effort to
solve The Labyrinth within the scant few minutes that remained.
Tariel in a rage smacked the crystal sphere from his hand.
He stood up angrily, ready to strike at her when suddenly he
had to shield his eyes.
What looked to be a bright stream of electricity rose from her
fingertips. From out of the window of the throne room window Jareth could
see dark storm clouds gathering rapidly.
Tariel mumbled an incantation in an ancient Elven Dialect that
Jareth could not quite understand. Finally she said in English "Your selfish
ways will be your undoing, Jareth, King of The Goblins. I curse you and your
world. It shall be forever winter here until you are able to commit a
completely selfless act, with the intent of gaining nothing from the act but
for the sake of another."
"YOU CANNOT DO THIS!"
"I can and I will!" She disappeared in a new burst of light.
Jareth ran to the window and looked out over The Labyrinth.
"Perpetual winter. Just lovely- just great- just peachy!"
The icy wind blew in his hair. And then the snowflakes began to
fall, lightly dusting over The Goblin City.
How was he to commit a selfless act? How many creatures, human or
other were truly selfless? He probably had never committed a selfless act in
his life, or rather at least he could not remember having done anything
selfless before at all in his past This revelation shocked him. But what
was he to do? He could possibly commit a truly selfless act without it
truly being for the fact that he wanted to rid himself of this curse. His
world was doomed and it was all that idiotic half-elf's fault!
That night as the two companions walked down the city street Elania
was in more then a lightly chipper mood. Jeremy however hardly said a word.
"Why, whatever is the matter, darling?" She asked him.
"Oh, it's=E2=80=A6 nothing. I just have a few problems that needto be
dealt with. I'm just finding myself under a great deal of pressure lately,
is all."
She looked in to his eyes. She could see deep worry and frustration
within them. Taking the liberty to brush some of his long blond strands of
hair from out of his eyes she kissed him. "You know what, Jeremy? It's
occurred to me that I have never once yet seen where you live. I had
actually almost begun to suspect that you are in fact homeless." She said
playfully.
"All right, fine." He shrugged lightly. "But I warn you, it
isn't much to look at. I am just a scrubby painter."
"But are you happy?" She asked him with a smile.
He only laughed, slightly uneasy.
They stepped in to the side entrance of the building of Jeremy's
loft. They climbed several fights of creaking wooden stairs until they came
to the door of his home.
The tiny loft was a cluttered one roomed residence. It was
truly just the attic of the building and perhaps only just in the short past
had been solely used for storage space. On shelves all around the bed along
the walls were books of all sorts about fantasies in far off strange and
magical lands, magical spells, dream definition and other such things like
that.
Jeremy King had a strange fascination with the magick,
superstition and the occult or at least that was one of the observations
about him that Elania had made. .
A few steps down from a small tabernacle like area where a bed and
oak dresser stood and the bookshelves lay was the rest of his home. A tiny
waist high refrigerator stood along the far wall next to a microwave oven and
a sink was in a small concaved area of the wall. There was a table meant for
dining upon but it was cluttered with jars of paints, some of which were
dried out from carelessly being left open over the night. An unfinished
painting canvas standing on the tripod stand stood in the far corner with the
tins of brushes. Sponges and brushes lay in jars with cups of distilled
water near to this. One could tell right a way that this was the home of a
very creative, yet highly disorganized and somewhat absent-minded artist.
Jeremy grabbed the old wooden hand railing and walked up the few
steps to the upper area of the room from the lower portion.
It was at the sound of his footfalls that a small striped cat came
purring, scampering out from under Jeremy's bed. The tiny cat made his way
to Elania and rubbed against her leg.
A broad smile swept across her face. "Oh, I didn't know you had a
cat!"
She reached down and petted the tiny creature. He looked like a
tiny tiger only with a strangely gentle and playful expression about him.
"Oh, yes=E2=80=A6" Slightly embarrassed, Jeremy ran his hand through his
hair. "He was crying his heart out in the back alley about few months ago."
He shrugged. "So I fed him a saucer of milk and he's refused to leave ever
since." He laughed. "I can't seem to be rid of the little bugger but then
again I think that I might have grown to enjoy his company quite a bit."
"Does he have a name?"
Jeremy nodded. "I call him Buttons."
"Why buttons- because he's as cute as a button?" She scooped the
affectionate little fellow up in to her arms.
"Actually no." He pointed to a white, cotton shirt that lay draped
over a chair. "THAT is why I call him buttons!"
She placed the little cat back on to the ground and let him off on
his merry. When she saw the shirt that was draped over the chair she
laughed. At the cuffs the buttons had obviously been torn off. Thin strands
of thread dangled where the buttons had obviously been. Down the shirt's
front three buttons, one at the top, one towards the middle, and one towards
the bottom of the shirt were also missing.
She laughed when she saw the two loose buttons lying on the floor,
shining in the dim lamp light.
"He plucks them off out of spite when I am not here enough or don't
show him enough attention. He pounces on them as they hit the floor. He does
it when I don't give him enough attention. He would do it to any shirt that
I leave lying about. He's a little mischief-maker, all right, rather like a
small goblin only definitely more tidy. And he is by far more intelligent.
=E2=80=A6Smells better too, I would think. I think that is why I have taken such a
liking of the little rascal."
The cat scurried away to chase after a small, transparent rubber
ball that now rolled across the floor.
Elania laughed in delight. The antics if this tiny creature
amused her very much. And she thought that perhaps she should have one of
her own for companionship.
To: .
Subject: [labyfic] Though we're strangers (Repost) Part 5
From:
Date: Wed, 12 Apr 2000 22:49:56 EDT
Jeremy stood with his arms folded across his chest. He looked ill
for a moment. He was trembling. A part of him, eternally bound to The
Underground he could feel the cold of Tariel of Blackrose's curse of winter
progressing.
Suddenly he felt over whelmed.
He had fought it off with his powers for as long as he possibly
could.
He gripped a hold of the side of a bookshelf. His world was surely
dying and if it died=E2=80=A6 then surely so would he. Could Tariel have truly known
what her bit of mischief making had caused? Would that woman be filled with
so much hatred and contempt for him as to destroy him as well as his reality?
He felt weak. He would have his revenge on her if it were the last thing
that he would do. He looked at Elania.
Something inside of him was screaming. He wished that he were not
Jareth, The Goblin King at ll. He wished that he had not taken such delight
in tormenting his sister-in-law. He wished that he truly could detach
being Jeremy King from Jareth, The Goblin King. He wished that he did not
regret half the things that he had done as Jareth, The Goblin King because he
felt that it was expected of him. He wished that he did not have to live up
to anyone's dark ideals of him. He would have given anything if he did not
have to hide so much of who he truly was and what he truly felt from others.
He fancied a simple, contented life with Elania. And if only=E2=80=A6 If only=E2=80=A6 If
only=E2=80=A6.
He could imagine them living together, in a flat with at least two bedrooms,
and Elania with a newborn baby child in her arms, his child. He perhaps
would have been happy then if only he were not just living the illusion of a
human life. He shut his eyes. The colour was fading from his cheeks. And
he thought just =E2=80=A6If only=E2=80=A6
Elania stepped close to him, looking concerned. "Jeremy, what is
it?"
Wrapping am arm around him to support him she helped him over to his
bed. He lay down. His knees bent and his head was bowed. He was very
nearly in a fetal position. His whole body was trembling with cold. Between
shutters he managed to force out "I.. I feel so cold=E2=80=A6" Jareth, The Goblin
King had always been far to proud to ask for assistance from anyone even if
he truly needed it but in a strained voice he managed to let it pass his
lips. "I'm so cold=E2=80=A6 Help me, please=E2=80=A6"
She touched his cheek. He felt like something sculpted out of ice.
"You're ill."
He shut his eyes. If he was going to die then he would tell her the
truth. "Elania, there is something that I=E2=80=A6 that I have been meaning to tell
you=E2=80=A6"
"Shhh=E2=80=A6." She said. "Rest easy."
His eyes were shut and his breathing became erratic. She had
forbid herself from using magick while here on Earth, she did not wish to
over exert herself, but there was something seriously wrong with him. She
had to do something. She could not just let him die.
He was unconscious at this point and would never know of what she
did or how. She placed her hands to his chest. A faint blue light seemed to
pulsate from out of her fingertips. She sent him a current of warmth to over
power the chill that he felt. She did not know what was truly wrong with
him. She could not quite detect it. It was not a usual disease. Perhaps it
was something neurological? Maybe it was something psychological, that he
believed he was cold, a subconscious meaning for feeling detached from the
rest of this world, perhaps. She did what she could, she sent an impulse in
to him, and though it seemed to have only a small effect she had used a great
deal of her reserved powers to do it. She made him believe and in so feel
that he was warm.
Her powers were extremely limited when she was here on Earth. She
did not know how long the spell would last. She would dare not exert her
powers to their limit while here on Earth. If she did then she might just
find herself forgetting who she truly was and then Tariel of Blackrose would
find herself trapped in her human guise.
Jeremy opened his eyes with a faint smile. He looked up at Elania
who leaned over him. He was warm. He was not so sure as to how this happened
and a part of him did not care.
Reaching up, as if a part of him knew what she had done for him he
wrapped his arms around her.
It was then that on instinct Elania pulled Jeremy's shirt off of
him from over his head. He yielded, raising his arms. She wanted to make
love to him. He could see the expression on her face.
She had no idea what the matter might be with him and if Jeremy
were truly ill then she had no idea as to how much time she might be able to
have with this, her human lover. She did not wish to take him for granted.
He gently reached over to her shirt top and undid the buttons one ata
time. She looked at him with extreme longing. He let the blouse slip from
off of her smooth shoulders. She leaned forward and kissed him deeply and
passionately.
The feel of her soft, subtle lips was like the taste of a fresh peach
to him. He savoured it. His mouth was partially opened as he allowed
himself to taste her sweetness. He did not know how long his release from
Tariel's curse would last. But he felt relieved. And he did not care as to
how long it would last so long as he could have this moment of warmth with
Elania, his mortal lover.
And she was so warm. He pressed himself close to her, wrapping
himself around her, wishing that he could somehow merge in with her. He did
not want to let her go. He allowed himself to use her warmth.
His kiss was strong and deep. It was strangely forceful. If one can
imagine feeling a blow from being smacked by Staten that that is what she
felt just then. And she enjoyed it immensely. She could taste him. His
flesh was warm now. It was no longer icy. And she pressed close in to him.
That was when they finally consigned to their desires.
It was hours of heated intimate passion that passed between them.
It was the most wondrous experience of at least his life. And though he had-
had several intimate relationships with many others in the past there was
something different to this one. Perhaps that was because of the fact that
this time actual love was involved in the matter with the yearnings of
physical lust. He would say now, perhaps that there was more magick in their
intimacy that night that ever there could have been in The Underground.
It was a time of sheer and utter bliss. It was truly the most
fantastic feeling of at least her life. Even as Tariel of Blackrose she had
never submitted herself to physical intimacy with any creature, elven, human
or other. This was the first time that she had ever given herself away and
she was certain that if Jeremy did not know this yet that he could feel it
now. She probably would admit now, perhaps that there had been more magick
in their love making that night that ever there could have been in all of her
realm of Blackrose.
Elania's body pressed against his own hard and poised form. Instinct moved
her where experience naturally failed.
He knew that she had been a virgin. With all of his experiences in
the past he could tell that right away. And he felt like a thief again, the
thief that only he had been as Jareth, The Goblin King. There was something
terribly wrong in taking her now, and like this when in fact she was a virgin
yet. It was amazing and interesting to him that a grown woman, and so
beautiful a creature as this had saved herself this long and now was
willfully handing herself over to him.
It seemed distasteful finally but it felt too wonderful for him to
make himself stop.
His instincts, his desires, they over powered all sense of honour
and reason that he would have liked to repress then anyway. He had taken her
most precious gift that she could possibly offer to him. She was just as he
had fancied. She was precisely as he had dreamt that she would be to him in
this way. She was just as he had hoped that she would be when he had first
found a desire for her.
She felt his caress, so soft and gentle that it was, that she
cried out for more. She shut her eyes, letting her deeper senses take her in
that moment. She allowed the flesh to instruct the mind. She had wanted
this. He had wanted this.
Their two forms, their two minds- their very souls were one and
yet no forbidden secret from either of their minds was opened to be revealed
to the other. They were entwined in one and other, riding out the greatest
dreams. It was absolute perfection. It was sheer and utter bliss. Truly,
it was.
Their clothing lay scattered about on the floor of the room. And he
felt free then. He felt completely free from everything as Jareth, The
Goblin King. And he wished, with a deep aching and sorrow that he truly was
free from all of that now and forever. He knew that he was not.
He had needed Elania that night more then anything, more then even he
would ever know. They had spent most of that night together. They took
their time with it all, savouring every moment of it. It was a strong
intimate time. He thought that he had kept it up actually rather well. This
was something to be remembered. This was something to be cherished.
He would not let her go. This time he had made her his own. He had
won. Then why did he feel so terrible about it all now? Had not this been
his goal all along- to have her- to conquer her? Oh, in deed it was
wonderful but=E2=80=A6 he suddenly realized that he wanted more then this. And that
came as a complete surprise to him. He truly was in love with her.
This time he had thought that he was simply looking out for himself.
Who the Hell was he trying to fool? I loved her and he would perhaps die for
her in circumstances were ever to prove there a need to be.
Exhausted, nearing dawn she fell asleep on his chest. He could hear
their heartbeats calming down, beating as one unit where moments before they
had been racing. And he shut his eyes as she lay on top of him with his arms
wrapped around her, his hand on the naked small of her back and he slept. And
it was the first real contented sleep of his entire life.
They were a mesh of flesh, intertwining in each other's embrace as
the sun shown down from the skylight on top of them both. Carefully Elania
slipped from Jeremy's arms. He was still fast asleep.
She slipped off of the bed, her bare feet creaking the hard wood
floor ever so slightly. She reached down for her blouse that now transformed
in to the royal gown of a queen.
She was about ready to place this on when something stirred in the
pile of fabric. She leapt back. She feared almost that it was one of
Jareth's small, filthy, repulsive, little goblins that had been spying on
her. She feared that somehow The Goblin King had found out her darkest
secret of her slipping off from her royal duties to play a mortal woman.
Her heart racing in her chest, as if he could feel her anxiety
Jeremy stirred in his sleep, moaning just slightly. He was still deeply
asleep, as he turned on his side. His thin, pale, naked form was somehow
alluring in the glow of early morning daylight.
Out of the bundle of silk the tiny form of Buttons, Jeremy's chat
came out with a playful "Mew."
Placing her hand to her chest she laughed quietly in relief. "You
little devil."
Buttons began to nibble and then pull at one of the buttons on the
sleeve of her gown. In a moment the button was off the cuff and rolling
across the floor. She laughed again despite herself. "You little beast!"
As the cat chased after the button, attempting to pounce on it
she quickly placed on the gown and stepped over to the mirror that hung on
the far back wall of the room.
Looking at her own reflection, like liquid the changes came. Her
eyes became slightly larger and more feline in appearance. She was now just
a few inches shorter in height. She was also slightly thinner, her bone
structure seeming to be more fragile. Her child like features seemed more
elven as they replaced her human expression. Her hair hung longer now and
just a shade darker. Curling slightly down her back.
To: .
Subject: [labyfic] Though we're strangers (Repost) Part 6
From:
Date: Wed, 12 Apr 2000 22:50:21 EDT
It was nearing dusk in The Underground. On Earth it was still early
yet. Elania had left but all to abruptly, not even staying to have a
breakfast with him. But he understood that she had been busy. It was
chilly here but the cold did not quite bother him as much s it should have.
It had been snowing all day and only now did it stop. The walls of the
northern section of The Labyrinth were entirely covered in a blanket of
white, making that entire section of Labyrinth look like a vast plane of
snow, covered in dunes of white. Now the eastern section of The Labyrinth
was nearly buried. Only about two feet of wall remained exposed down the
passages.
Goblins cried and screamed. They were uncertain of what was happening
or why their master did nothing to stop it.
Jareth sat on the window ledge, his cape draped around him, it's high
out-curved collar protecting him from the bitter wind that even could
penetrate any and all magick that he used to try and stop it.
In the large fireplace across the room a roaring blaze burned. It
was the only true warmth left in the entire castle.
He turned when he felt a presence behind him. In a burst of blue
light Tariel of Blackrose appeared.
In her hand she carried a high staff with triangular crystal
mounted on it's top. She wore a long gown of light blue silk. He took
notice of her hand that carried the staff. A button was missing from the
cuff of her gown's sleeve. From the way the loose thread hung where the
button should have been he laughed inwardly. It looked like something that
Buttons would have done. He did love that little scamp.
"Oh, what is the matter, Jareth? I thought you would enjoy seeinga
world as bitterly frozen as your own heart and sense of compassion Aren't
you enjoying the cold, Jareth?" Tariel asked him cynically.
"Oh, about as much as I am going to enjoy killing you as you sleep
tonight, half-breed."
She knew not take that threat seriously. "Kill me and the spell can
never be broken, Goblin King."
Suddenly he caught notice of something else most extraordinary.
From behind Tariel's leg came a small white kitten. The small female cat
looked up at Jareth with large, curious green eyes.
"What is THAT THING doing here?!?" Jareth looked horror struck.
"This THING is my familiar." She looked down at the cat. "Now,
isn't that right, darling?" She said to the cat.
"You must be mad bring that THING in here!"
"Of course you would not like her, Jareth. She's not a filthy,
reeking, stupid, drooling creature with the attention span of a flea!"
"It's not that I don't like cats, Tariel. I love them."
"Oh, I bet of course you do." She said sarcastically.
"It's just that-" He was interrupted by the sight of it. He
smacked a hand over his face and let it run down, his finger on his own
cheek.
A large, feathered goblin with the snout of a fox and the tale of a
weasel with tiny bat wings on it's back lunged at the cat.
The little white kitten gave off a terrible cry and leapt in to
Tariel's arms.
The goblin fell flat on it's face and hissed.
"Jareth!?!" Tariel looked both mortified and disgusted.
"I tired to warn you, Tariel! Cats are scarce in The Underground
for a reason! Many goblins EAT cats and they do not care who they belong to!
Their attention spans are too short to remember that!"
"How utterly revolting! You disgust me, Jareth!"
"Oh, go haunt someone else, half- breed!"
A fresh burst of electrical light and energy hit Jareth full force
in the chest. He cried out in frustration and sent a current of magick right
back in her direction but she had already disappeared with her cat.
Why couldn't Tariel be more thoughtful and understanding like
Elania? How wonderful it would be, he thought, if Elania was The Queen of
Blackrose and he did not have to tolerate the presence of Tariel at all.
Elania finished her performance as usual at the nightclub. As she
sipped her ice water at the bar of the nightclub Richi suddenly grabbed her
arm.
She gasped.
"Why are you doing this to me, Elania? You never give me the right
time of day but I always see you with the scrubby little artist!"
She pulled away from him. "His name is Jeremy. And he's a Hell of
a lot more of a man then you will ever be."
"I love you! When will you understand this?"
"No, you know nothing about me, Richi. You are obsessed with me
but that is not love."
"And that that 'artist' can do better for you then, I suppose?"
"Richi! I don't love you! Now, leave me alone! This time I
mean it!"
"But I do love you! How can you presume to tell me what 'I"
feel? Come on, Elania! That scrubby little artist can't even afford to feed
his own cat."
She looked at Richi, startled. "How did you know he has a cat?
Have you been following us?"
He did not answer but gave a strange smile.
"You just keep away from us! I do NOT love you! You know
NOTHING about me or who I really am!"
"And I suppose that gutter rat knows EVERYTHING about you?"
She frowned. There were things about her that she would dare not
even tell Jeremy, no matter how understanding he seemed. "He knows more
about me then you ever will. You know NOTHING about me! I don't love you,
Richi, Get over it! Now, if you excuse me, I have plans for this evening."
Elania walked out of the nightclub, her usual knapsack over her
shoulder. "If I ever catch you following is, Richi I will be forced to call
the authorities."
He called out after her but it was too late. Either she did not
hear him or she did not want to hear him.
"I know more about you then you realize, Elania! ELANIA!!!"
Richi clenched his teeth to keep from screaming out in
frustration. How dare she tell him what he felt? He was certain that he was
in love with her. And she deserved far better then that pathetic low-life,
Jeremy King! He threw a shot glass at the wall. It shattered.
In Jeremy's loft Elania laughed. She was already a little giddy from
the white wine.
"Really, I swear it."
"But no one can be that daft as to bring a pet mouse with them in to
an animal shelter filled with hungry cats."
"Well, I'm telling you this woman honestly did. I was right there.
And she did not think anything would happen. When one of the cats tried to
pounce on her pet that she dared to keep loose no less, she blamed me for it!"
Elania was nearly hysterical with laughter..
"And=E2=80=A6" Suddenly Jeremy paused in their lighthearted
conversation. He stepped over to the window. "There's someone in the back
alley-way. I can hear them."
Elania placed down her wineglass on to the table and stepped beside him.
Suddenly a loud bang was heard from the first floor. Somewhere in
the near distance one of Jeremy's neighbors screamed out "FIRE!"
There was a frantic pounding on the door. Jeremy rushed to answer
it.
He opened it wide to see one of his neighbors. It was a young woman
wearing tattered shorts and a black shirt. "There's a fire on the first
floor, you had better get out of the building while you still can. The fire
department is on it's way now!" She ran down the flight of stairs.
Jeremy looked out in to the hall. The flames were rising quickly.
They swept over most of the first floor already and were now racing up the
stairs where his neighbor had just run past.
The heavy, thick stench of the smoke was increasing rapidly.
He slammed the door and ran in to the conjoined room. He quickly ran
the bath tap.
"Jeremy what are you doing? We have to get out now!"
"I'm ensuring your safety!"
Once he was sure that the tub was filled with icy water he grabbed
up his jacket from off the back of a chair where he had draped it and dropped
it in to the icy water.
Quickly he draped the, cold soaked jacket over Elania's head.
"Go on, now!"
He tried to shove her out the door now.
"But I can't leave you!"
"I'll be right behind you! Just go!"
Elania rushed down the stairs, through the rising flames, finding
that she was barely touched if at all by them. She made it out the side
entrance of the building to the street. When she saw that Jeremy was not
with her she ran back inside the burning building, still with the jacket
partially draped over her head. She held it tightly as if it could protect
her from the ever-increasing flames.
Out the open sky light Jeremy released Buttons. "You know where to
go, now move!" He said to the cat as of ordering one of his minions as
Jareth, The Goblin King. Buttons looked at him as if he understood what he
had said. The cat leapt across the roof and then jumped on to the near by
roof of the neighboring building and from there he made his way gracefully
down the fire escape of that building. There was no proper fire escape to
this building.
Now, Jareth, keeping his guise as Jeremy King forced out a bit of
magick, attempting to conserve it as best he can and used it to protect
himself from the licking and lapping flames as he raced down the stairs.
His eyes burned. Tears were uncontrollably welling in his eyes as
he choked and gagged from the smoke. The flames licked at his legs, slapping
at him.
Elania stood in the doorframe. "Come on!"
"I thought I told you to wait outside!"
They both paused. There came the distinct sound of baby wailing
from behind a door just to Jeremy's left.
"That's Mrs. Hayes', the land lady's apartment. She was looking
after her niece, Whimsy!" Jeremy said over the sound of the roaring fire.
The doorknob was burning hot so he was forced to kick open the
door. Trying to move quickly he found the baby sitting in it's high chair.
He unfastened the child from it's seat and handed the baby over to Elania who
never did leave his side. The fire had spread in to the back room of this
apartment.
"Get Whimsy out of here!" He cried.
"But what about you?"
"Mrs. Hayes would never leave Whimsy alone. I have to find her!"
He looked to the bedroom where one could easily see the harsh orange
glow of mounting flames.
"Jeremy, she's probably dead! It's no good! The fire department is
on it's way! We have to get out of here now!"
"GET THE BABY OUT NOW, ELANIA!" He screamed. The baby screamed
against Elania's breast. "Take the baby and go! Come on, move!" He cried as
if commanding her, something that was alien to the tone and mannerisms of
Jeremy King but recognizable as something that Jareth, The Goblin King would
do .
Reluctantly she ran from the building once again, this time carrying
the baby, knowing that she could not risk the child's life.
The bed was covered in flames. The thin form of the frail old
woman lay on the floor just beside the dresser. He had never cared for Mrs.
Hayes all too much as a human being. A part of him screamed at himself to
just leave her there. In fact Jareth, The Goblin King more then likely would
have left the woman there but he just had to get her out of there.
She had always been a bitter, cross old woman. She had a deep
distaste for him and an obvious distrust, perhaps even a resentment of him
for Heaven knows what. He knew that if he were to leave her there that his
life more then likely in this form be far simpler but he could not do that.
He simply could not do that.
To: .
Subject: [labyfic] Though we're strangers (Repost) Part 7
From:
Date: Wed, 12 Apr 2000 22:51:42 EDT
Kneeling over Mrs. Hayes' motionless form he grabbed the wrist and
felt for a pulse. She was dead. He could not find a heartbeat.
"Mrs. Hayes! Come on, you old bat! Don't do this!" He had to
find a way to bring her around but the only way he could do that is out side,
away from the billowing smoke and the hot, flames licking and lapping at the
burning walls. He reached a hand under the old woman's light frame.
Suddenly he heard the sound of wood cracking from above him.
Small sparks of flame fell around them from the rafters. He looked up, a
burning plank of wood that had been a narrow rafter now dangled above them
perilously.
Before he could think to move the plank fell loose crashing down on
top of him. The blow to the head had been too much. His entire body smacked
down hard against the floor.
He tried to keep conscious but it was all in vain. His head was
swimming. He could not keep his eyes open. The pain to the back of his head
had been too much. He felt dizzy. He could not focus his thoughts clearly
enough even to just transport himself back to The Underground safely.
The flames were drawing in. He tried to breathe. The smoke and flames
surrounded him.
He felt the heat against his cheek as he lay on the ground. His
eyes shut. He tried to struggle against the on coming darkness but it was
too much for him. He could not hold out.
The cool night air scraped against the tender burns on his arms.
There were lights around him. He could hear the scrambled sounds of many
human voices all talking at once. The flashing red and blue lights
surrounded him. He lay against something soft. He was outside. The fire
had been extinguished. He could smell the dampness in the air from the fire
hoses and the lingering scent of burnt wood and smoke.
Elania had stood by helplessly with the baby in her arms as the
fire fighters had carried out Jeremy's unconscious form. She had thought for
certain that he had been killed in the inferno. Now she stood very close as
his eyes slowly fluttered open, wincing in the bright lights.
"He's coming around!" Said a man in a long jacket standing over
him. :"Rest easy, sir. Everything is going to be all right now. We're going
to take you to the emergency room at the county hospital."
He sat up with a jolt. "Elania!"
She took his hand. "I'm here, Jeremy."
The man spoke up. "Sir, you really should try and lay down.
You had a nasty hit to the head."
He did not need to be told that Mrs. Hayes was dead. He
already knew it. When he had first found her he knew that there more then
likely would be no resuscitating her.
Jeremy climbs to his feet, a little shakily. "I'll be fine."
"Sir, you really should be examined, you could have a concussion or-"
"I said that I'll be fine, what part of that do you not
understand?"
A woman with a hard expression came towards them. With one hand she
took the baby from Elania's arms. It was Mrs. Hayes' sister. With her free
hand she smacked Jeremy across the face. "Murderer! You killed her! You did
this! You set this up, I know you did!"
Elania spoke up on Jeremy's defense. "I was with him as the fire
broke out!"
"He's always hated her! She always said that there was something
not right about Him!"
A man emerged from the shadows, his face was hidden by the hood of
his light, spring jacket. He quietly lead Angela Hayes away. She was
obviously mad with grief. "No! No!" She cried. "He did it! I know he
did! He killed her!"
Jeremy's loft had remained undamaged by the fire and Buttons did
as he had been told. The cat was found waiting on the hood of a parked car
across the street. Once everything was completely settled and Jeremy had
managed to convince everyone present that he was perfectly all right Jeremy
slipped off, disappearing back to The Underground as Jareth, The Goblin King.
Jareth stood in his bedchamber. The sun was shining. The air was
warm. Tariel's curse had been broken. He looked out over the castle's
courtyard. The roses were beginning to bud. The curse of perpetual winter
had been broken but this meant that he had to finally acknowledge that as
Jeremy King or as Jareth, The Goblin King he was still the same person. What
he had done in that fire as Jeremy King had broken the spell that had been
set on Jareth, The Goblin King. He had hidden and revealed different aspects
of who he was in his guise as Jeremy King but he was still one and the same.
And he had to accept this or he would truly lose his mind in this charade.
Tariel sat in her bedchamber in Blackrose. She sat brushing out her
long dark hair. She stopped abruptly. A tingling sensation came in to
Tariel abruptly. A spell that she had woven was broken. Jareth, The Goblin
King somehow had committed a selfless act. But how was this possible?
The eyes=E2=80=A6 She should have realized it with their eyes. How could
she have not seen it before? He had been so very cold the night before=E2=80=A6 And
then there were those distinct eyes. Jareth had those same exact eyes.
Jeremy WAS Jareth!
He frowned as he stirred the combined colours. He could not quite get
the right shade of indigo. He looked again at the painting. He wished with
all his heart that Elania were there to pose for this. He had a clear
memory, very nearly photographic but trusting only in his memories and
imagination did not quite appease him. He wished that she were there with
him.
A flash of light filled the room. Jeremy turned around abruptly.
Elania stood with her arms folded.
"How did you get in here?" He knew that she had not used the door.
He had not heard her open the door and he had not heard her walking up the,
terribly singed, faire damaged staircase. She had just appeared. For a slit
moment he could swear that magick must have been involved but his second and
most logical thought was that he had been breathing in too much of the paint
fumes again.
"How dare you?" She cried.
He looked at her blankly. What was the matter with her?
"How dare you? Why did you do it? Did you think it was great fun-
toying with me like that?"
He took a step backward. "I don't understand."
"The Hell you don't, Jareth!" She stepped close to him and smacked
him hard across the face. Her hand struck him like a jolt of lighting. A
bright flash and then the colour purple flashed before his eyes. His cheek
throbbed as if he had just been struck a mighty blow. From the feel of it he
could almost swear that her hand still rested where she had struck him.
He stared at her. He was stunned. He was completely dumbfounded.
He certainly had not expected that at all.
The second major shock to him was that she had just called him by
his real name. How had She known? What was really happening here?
The image of Elania melted away. Her hair lengthened and curled
slightly. Her features became more feline, more catlike. She seemed to have
a more child like expression to her. Her eyes were larger and brighter.
There were distinctly elven features to her. And then he saw that before his
eyes Elania had evaporated, leaving behind only Tariel of Blackrose.
His moth hung open. No words came to him. He looked her in utter
surprise. "You!"
And then the two said at once, both missing the human other.
"How can you do this to me?"
"You? How could 'I' Do this to 'you'?" Jareth said as he
transformed in to his true self. His dark cape with the high collar flaring
around him.
"You mean to tell me that you didn't know?" She seemed both
skeptical and surprised at the idea though the look of shock on Jareth's face
was far too genuine.
"No!" He paced for a moment. "My God! =E2=80=A6After all this time!
My God! I've been doing this-" He gestured around the loft, meaning the
life as Jeremy King. "-for years!"
Tariel sat down with an exaggerated sigh. She turned away from him to
hide her tears. She had truly been in love with Jeremy but she hated Jareth,
The Goblin King! "How can this be?" She asked. She turned and looked at
him with pain in her eyes. "How can it be that the one man I love and the one
man I hate are one and the same?"
:"I could ask a very similar question of you but I won't."
"Then Jeremy DID love Elania?"
"Oh, yes. He still does, with all of his heart." He stepped
towards her, surprised that he still felt the same. What was wrong with him?
He must have been mad!
Knowing that she loathed Jareth as much as he felt resentment towards
Tariel he transformed himself back in to the image of the artist, Jeremy King
and stepped towards her.
Yielding to her own fantasy Tariel transformed in to Elania
and took a step forward. He pressed a finger to her mouth and said "Shhhh=E2=80=A6.
No one has to know the matters of the lives to two=E2=80=A6 ordinary mortals."
She smiled at him, already understanding the game. They would be
the human couple for their own fantasies. And no one would take that away
from them..
The passing weeks came and went, turning in to months as they were
passing quickly like a player on the stage of life. The vampire, time worked
it's forbidden dance and Jeremy and Elania had managed to continue on in
staying together. Entering paintings in to art shows and watching each other
sing the two seemed inseparable. And they both shared that incredible,
forbidden secret.
There was peace in the other worlds, between The Underground and
Blackrose. Tariel and Jareth rarely ever interacted anymore but once in a
while Elania would bring up a discussion about an elven Queen or Jeremy would
mention a qualm that Jareth, The Goblin King had with a treaty that he had
been asked to sign by the Queen of Blackrose. All and all it was in great
fun. They never confused their alternate lives with the lives of their true
selves until one day it was all forced to fall down around them=E2=80=A6.
In the form of the white owl Jareth, The Goblin King flew over the
city
The large buildings below him seemed to reach up for the heavens
unable to touch the realm that he stole as his own while in that preferred
form for Earthly transportation.
He felt the icy December wind rushing under his belly. The wind
stirred his feathers though never disturbing them from their setting in his
light owl self.
It was nearing the time of dusk and as the faint, hazy light
dimmed in the graying sky his eyes widened, adjusting rapidly to the
darkness. It appeared that it might snow this night. He felt the chill in
the air. It was crisp and pure, clean and frosty, not at all like a winter
in The Underground and definitely far more inviting then that perpetual
winter that he had very nearly been cursed to.
It always seemed that winters in The Underground were dreary and
the dust layered the land as much as the frost, which was not very much at
all usually anyway.
He flew gracefully, enjoying himself and his freedom, the one
thing that he cherished and would cherish more then any power that he could
hold in his own realm and over another.
There are few things that Jareth had ever truly held dear to
himself; the first thing is power and control. His life would be in total
chaos if he did not possess just a little of that. The second thing that
Jareth cherished dearly was his freedom. He also cherished his reason and
ability to think and act as he saw fit. He also held dear to him the ability
to love and care for another, something, which he as Jareth, The Goblin King
did seldom at all but he, knew that he was fully capable of doing. Jeremy
did love and care dearly for Elania. But why was it so difficult for Jareth
to do the same? And then there was that little matter=E2=80=A6. Did He, inany form
truly love Tariel of Blackrose?
He also loved the power to create, his magick and natural talents
granted him this with music, song, and his enchantments. He also held dear
to him humanity, believe it or not, that enjoyable and unpredictable race of
sometimes=E2=80=A6 quite often foolish beings that never ceased to amaze orentrance
him. He would watch with awe in wonder as again and again as they would
destroy or change his conceptions of what he had thought them out to be once
he had conceived of a belief that he knew totally that they were. They would
shatter his ideas about their world again and again and then rebuild it in to
something far more interesting then he had first thought it out to be.
Perhaps that was also why he took such great pleasure in playing Jeremy King.
It was fantastic to watch that ever-changing society and those
lovely individuals who would break the pre-fabricated conformist sentiments
that he had seen arise with a fear of change.
To: .
Subject: [labyfic] Though we're strangers (Repost) Part 8
From:
Date: Wed, 12 Apr 2000 22:52:52 EDT
It was indeed a shame that for over one thousand years he had not been
a part of that world. It had always been hard for him to be an outsider;
though being the unquestioned ruler of his own realm had filled the void with
shallow materialism for quite some time. The only thing that had ever calmed
the flame of hunger that burned from within him for these people and their
world that he had no control in was the strange fantasy of being the simple
mortal, Jeremy who stood in love with the beautiful mortal woman, Elania.
This still the restlessness that existed within him.
He flew. Flying as the white owl was an escape for him. It was
freedom. It was a freedom from everything. It was a freedom from his
responsibilities. It was a freedom from his own existence. It was a freedom
from everything that he had ever done and would regret though would never
admit out loud.
He loved the feeling of the cool, clean, icy breeze under him. He
watched from his lonely position in the skies, over seeing the human world as
if it were truly his own. What a lie that was! But even he had the right to
pretend, to imagine... to try to=E2=80=A6 dream. The day was fading fast from the
sky. Dusk had come and night was settling a shadowy blanket over all.
As the night set in and the darkness deepened- adding depth to the
faintest shadows he felt a torture, a longing, a desire. He wanted something
more other then this masquerade game on Earth as he and his lover played with
illusions and disguises. He was aching inside, and flying, as the owl was
his only chance. It was his freedom, his escape. It was rather like a drug,
or one of his peaches. It helped him to at least for a time forget
everything, though it's effects never did really last long enough. He was
flying as the wise, and white owl more often then he usually would of late.
And he remembered an old myth that an owl is born with all his questions
answered. And he did wish that all his questions were answered, they
remained as they seemed to forever be unresolved.
. He had to let it all go. He had to drop away his regrets and
broken promises that he had had made to himself. He had wanted to show
Elania her dreams He had wanted to do that in the hopes that she would grant
somehow grant him his own dreams for once, his lost dreams of what he had
taken for granted and given up in his true human, mortal youth. But that had
been before his birthright had turned it all, his life, his world upside
down. He had not been given a choice in being made the ruler of those...
those wretched THINGS!
And he wished that he could in fact be truly Jeremy King,
completely free and detached from being Jareth, The Goblin King and forget
everything of who he had been.
But he had to let that all go now. As the owl he was free. He was
happy. He was not Jareth, The Goblin King. He was simply the white barn owl
flying over humanity, never touching it, not really at any rate,
understanding it somewhat and yet not caring. Detachment! Again, a lie! No
one can ever truly be detached because emotions are only repressed, and they
can burst out like a dam flooding at any given time. And you can try to deny
others but no one; not even he could deny his own emotions.
Well, he had spread his wings, and for hours he was soaring, never
really tiring. He had taken flight. He did not wish to land.
The past was gone. He had to look for the future. If he lived in
the past then he would not have today or tomorrow, just yesterday- a dead
thing.
He could still be free. He prayed that time would set him free- free
from everything. He was not fit to rule the goblins. He was willing to admit
that now. He had a human mind, a HUMAN mind, an immortal form yes, but still
a HUMAN mind! =E2=80=A6And with that, human needs and desires. And he ached for
that human life that he would pretend to have as Jeremy King. He was
actually envious of the character he portrayed in the human society. He felt
contempt towards Jeremy King that he could not ACTUALLY be him.
He was empty inside. There was darkness within him. He was=E2=80=A6
lonely. =E2=80=A6But there was always Elania, she understood it all or rather Tariel
did. But he did not love Tariel, did he?
There was some sort of light trapped inside his own inner darkness
that no one could see, an ability to really love as Jareth, The Goblin King.
But then again everything that he did as Jeremy King he was perfectly capable
of doing as Jareth, The Goblin King. It was simply that as Jeremy King he
felt that he did not have to live up to any one's dark ideals, or
antagonistic expectations of him. It was growing to be his personal belief
that a man his least himself when he talks in his own person. If you would
give him a mask he would tell you the truth.
Life for him was becoming some horrible masquerade dance. And
everyone, he believed in any world wears a mask. The first face is the face
that you wear for others. The second face is the image of the person that
you would truly like to be, and the third face and the hardest one to face is
the face of who you truly are. He was groping to hate masks. He wanted to
see beyond the illusions and lies. He wanted to face the truth. It is always
best to face true darkness as opposed to false light. If you wrap yourself
in a blanket if deception you will be left cold for one day it will be torn
away from you.
Somehow this masquerade had started before him. He had allowed himself
to partake of illusions as he wore his disguise. His only love was in facta
stranger that he thought he had hated. He scorned the truth for the first
time in his life, he truly needed the lies.
He flew higher and higher, trying to let go of everything but the
universe spreading out before him as the thick, polluted, damp city air
thinned around him.
He was at least for the moment free. He could forget it all. He
flew higher then the mountains, reaching for the moon and the stars beyond
the heavy clouds. He flew where the wind was strong and the air was weak, if
that can be described somehow. He was free to fly tonight.
He looked down once more at the large city, far below him; still able
to see and hear it perfectly with the owl's heightened senses.
He loved the stirring of the brown, dead leaves that crunched under
the feet of those, at least six and a half yards under him who passed by
along the busy, crowded streets. They were hustling and bustling, shopping
and cheering at the simple joys of the holiday season, making merriment in
the bitter weather. Ah, a remarkable and perseverant race, humanity. He had
grown to realize just how perseverant the human nature can be and how that
nature can in fact sacrifice, evolve, change, and suffer for others.
He held as the owl the freedom from being an immortal living among
imbecilic goblins. He was an immortal, true enough but he still held a human
mind filled with human desires and at one time, once upon a time a long, long
time ago it had even been filled with his own dreams. Ah, the dreams of
youth are the regrets of maturity. But how does one know when he is mature
enough when he will live indefinitely with the same form as humans come and
go, age and die before him? And how is one to know when he is mature enough
when he watches a world that is not his own from his own shabby little world
that hardly anyone has penetrated or understood?
God, how he longed for that woman, Elania. . And in the strangest and
simplest ways she had understood him and mirrored his own nature.
A few hours, just a few hours for him to be away from The
Underground, that was all that he had wanted. A few hours, was what all that
he had wanted, just a few hours away from The Underground.
All he wanted was this short little amount of time, free and away
from everyone and every thing that he was used to.
He was happy and as the curse of his own existence said, this would
not last for very long. Sure enough his moment of bliss passed rapidly by.
A bright light engulfed him suddenly. A split came moment
before he realized where he was and what was happening. As Jareth, The
Goblin King in his true form he appeared in the center of a pentangle, drawn
in white chalk on the ground. At each point of the pentangle a candle
burned.
The next moment Jareth was on his knee. He was grabbing at the floor.
It was a hard wood floor.
He opened wide his eyes and realized instantly that he was in a
small, dark room somewhere. An older woman stood with a white candle in one
hand and a hardbound red book in her other hand. He recognized her
immediately to be Angela Hayes. She was chanting something. The last lines
were the only things clear to him. "Jareth, king of the goblins, let the
powers bind to hold thee, I hereby invoke thee."
Realizing almost instantly that she had cast a spell to invoke him
using forces beyond his own powers he stood up. He was definitely there on
Earth. He looked down and realized that under his feet where he was standing
was an herbal mixture that she had used in the summoning. It looked like a
mixture of raven's blood, a shredded owl's feather, a shattered glass or
crystal=E2=80=A6 Was that one of his own? It was also mixed with a glittering
substance, the sparkling dust that always settles when he is called to Earth,
the material manifestation of the physical transference from dimensions.
He was standing in a pentangle drawn in white chalk. At each point
of the star that he stood in the middle of there was a candle. In front of
him at the point of the star was a blue candle representing the spirit. To
his right, at this point of the star facing directly east was a gray candle
representing the element of water. Behind him to the south point of the star
was the red candle representing the element of fire. To the opposite of this
one, the northern point of the star was a yellow candle representing Earth.
A very light blue candle stood to his left representing spirit.
This star with the five burning candles was drawn in white chalk inside a
drawn circle. Just outside the circle on the ground lay a white handled
dagger, the knife the woman had used to cast the circle.
Angela Hayes placed down her book and candle and looked at him with
extreme hatred. Several feet behind her stood a man but he stood with a hood
drawn over his face. Jareth did not have to see the face of the man. He
already knew who it was. It was a surprise to him that he knew magick but he
knew that it was Richi. And he also knew that Richi was the one who had set
the building ablaze. He would have sought out Richi long ago with magick to
try and seek revenge on his attempted murder but somehow his magick had been
unable to find him and know he knew why finally. Richi dabbled in magick
that could block against his own.
Stepping forward Jareth spoke up in a demanding tone. "What is the
meaning of this?"
Richi stepped forward and pulled down his hood. It was not at all a
surprise to Jareth to see who it was.
"Hello, your 'highness'."
Jareth attempted to step outside of the pentangle but he found that
he was trapped with in it. It was as if an invisible barrier stood within
the outer limits of the circle of the pentangle.
In frustration Jareth point his hand outward and sent a blast of
magick at Richi.
In a quick, defensive motion Richi placed up his hands and the current
ricocheted back towards Jareth.
Jareth ducked quickly to see that the blast had shattered a glass vase that
stood on a shelf several feet behind him.
"When I get my hands on you I am going to tear your bloody heart
out!" Jareth screamed.
Richi laughed heartily. "You have no chance of doing that. The
only way you can leave the borders of that pentangle is if someone who loves
you wholly for who you are, completely takes you by your hand and helps you
out of it. And of course you must also love that one equally as much or you
will both die in the effort. And I don't think anyone does that. You've
been living a doubled life for so long I doubt that YOU even know who you are
completely!"
Richi turned and looked at Angela. "You get what you want and I
shall gain my desire."
Jareth glared at Angela coldly. She smirked at him. "Splendid."
To: .
Subject: [labyfic] Though we're strangers (Repost) Part 9
From:
Date: Wed, 12 Apr 2000 22:53:29 EDT
Elania waited at the nightclub. He was already twenty minutes
late. He was rarely late if ever at all and usually with reason. She could
think of the last few excuses that he had provided. "So sorry, love, Jareth
had a slight problem with a fairy that demanded that she was pregnant with
his love child- meanwhile the fairy is only six inches tall." And then there
was "Oh, I am terribly sorry, The Goblin King was off paying a visitation to
one of those delightful little mortal girls that still worship him." There
was also "Oh, well, someone dropped Jareth's 'great' advisor in to The Bog of
Eternal Stench." And there was her all time favourite where he would clear
his throat and then quietly butter "umm=E2=80=A6 his tights ripped=E2=80=A6in a rather
unbecoming spot."
She giggled lightly to herself at the thought of it.
A shadow loomed over her suddenly. Someone stood behind her. She
felt uncomfortable suddenly. She could tell already from the sensation that
she felt that it was not Jeremy King.
"He's not coming." Said the distinctive voice of Richi.
She turned around and looked at him curiously. "Not coming? What do
you mean he's not coming?"
"Well, you know royalty. And he IS royalty. They always find some
reason for not keeping engagements."
Her eyes went wide. He knew who Jeremy King was and for certain that
must have meant that he in fact knew also who she was.
He grabbed Elania roughly by the arm. "Don't attempt anything." He
said quietly. "You mustn't give the game away. I have a gun in my right
pocket and I can assure you that I can reach it long before you can use any
of your unnatural abilities. I you are shot and then suddenly heal by the
aid of your magick in front of all the people in this nightclub then your
game is over so I suggest you come along with me now."
Reluctantly Elania walked with him outside of the nightclub. He shoved
her in to the back seat of a car. There was a driver in the front seat
waiting for them.
As they pulled away out of his jacket pocket Richi pulled out what
looked to be an ancient dagger made of iron. It's tip was stained in a rust
coloured substance. It appeared to be an ancient weapon.
"This is what is called a hyne's blood dagger. Legend has it that
long ago it was stained in the blood of a mystical creature known as a hyne
and the hyne's blood can kill ANY creature. Shall we give it a try?
Hmm=E2=80=A6Tariel?"
Allowing her disguise to melt away she sat with her arms folded,
bold. She refused to say a word but knew as she had always known the legends
about the blood of the hyne being true. And she also knew that the dagger
that he held most likely had been stained in the blood of such a creature.
No one would attempt such an elaborate bluff especially against someone who
could kill him in twelve seconds flat out.
Richi dragged her along in to the building. Once they were in the
room with the bed he slammed the door shut behind him and then locked it up
tight. Holding the dagger poised Richi with a mad glint in his eyes spoke.
"I love you! You know I do! Why did you give me NOTHING in return?!?!
Why?!?" He pressed close to her with the dagger. "But now.. but now=E2=80=A6" He
laughed insanely. "Now you will be my wife!"
Jareth stood in the barriers of the pentangle. There was no where
that he could go. He was grateful that what held him within the pentangle
was invisible otherwise he would have become very claustrophobic by now.
Jareth had never been inside of an enclosed space for very long and he was
becoming quickly agitated.
The woman, Angela who had taken to tormenting him threw a knife at
his head. He quickly ducked to see it hit the wall behind him.
"You bastard! You will pay for what you have done to my sister!" She said.
"I am not the one who killed her, you're a bleeding psychopath, that's
what you are. ! I TRIED TO SAVE HER! Break this spell! Release me! Now!
I warn you or then WILL be Hell to play!"
She raised an eyebrow. "And why would 'The Goblin King' want to
save someone who obviously held a distaste for him? Why would 'The Goblin
King' want to save ANYONE?'"
Richi advanced on Tariel and pushed her shirt off of her right
shoulder. He rubbed his hand on her shoulder. "Oh, you are so beautiful.
Why did you have to make it like this? Why did you have to be so difficult?
I love you!:
Tariel spoke up. "Rich, listen to me. Do you really think that
I can love you like this? You don't really love me. You are obsessed with
me. If you loved me then you would let me go."
"Oh, but I do- I do love you! Don't you understand. In the words of
your 'true love' "Everything I've done I've done for you.' Why can't you see
that? I love you so much=E2=80=A6"
He grabbed her shoulders and tried to push her on to the bed but in
doing so this gave her enough time to move. Making herself quickly disappear
she appeared behind him.
Finding that he was gripping the air Richi stumbled on to the bed At
this Tariel quickly grabbed his arm that held the dagger and forced it behind
his back.
Richi cried out. He was half-afraid and half in pain.
"Now," Said Tariel as she grabbed the dagger off the floor with a
sweep of her free hand and now held it quickly to his throat "I have this
feeling that you know where Jeremy=E2=80=A6 I mean Jareth is! Where is he, Richi?"
Richi laughed. "You don't love HIM! You love your ideal you made with
Jeremy King! He means nothing to you and I can prove it. You only love the
thought of Jeremy and in that you will never have him!"
"Where is he?" Asked Tariel through clenched teeth as she pressed
the dagger in to his throat so that he could feel the edge of the blade
against his flesh.
Jareth was tired of the futile efforts of trying to convince Angela
Hayes that he ACTUALLY had good intentions
A few feet back in the room the thin form of Jareth squatted within
the barriers of the pentangle. He did not bother to move at all. He did not
seem acknowledge that anyone else was in the room.
His hands rested on his knees. His thick blond hair tangled in his
face. He was looking down so that all Elania saw of his head was his mop of
thick blond hair. Perhaps he was too ashamed of his situation to look up at
his captor.
"Jareth!" Tariel cried as she rushed over towards the pentangle. She
placed the dagger, hanging it by it's hand guard in to her sash that she wore
around the waist line of her dress.
"No!" Jareth cried as he climbed to his feet. "Stay where you are!"
Richi took a step back and laughed. "Yes, Tariel. Stay right where
you are. If anyone tries to remove him from the circle that is not
completely in love with him for all that he is he and the other will both be
destroyed and he has to love that person equally as much. NOW do you see?
Now do you see? You were not meant to be with him! You were meant to be
with me! He SHOULD have died in that fire!"
Angela's eyes suddenly went wide. "You did it? You were the one that
did that? You killed my sister!"
Before Richi could act Angela pulled the knife out of the wall that she had
thrown at Jareth. Moving as quickly as she could she stabbed Richi right in
the heart. Richi stumbled back but as he did he continued to laugh. Even
after he hit the floor he was laughing.
Tariel looked at him blankly. The knife remained in Richi's chest
as Angela back up in to a corner of the room.
Richi choked as the blood rose in his throat. He knew that he was
dying but he no longer cared. He believed that he had won. He would have his
justice. "This building in going to explode in ten minutes. Your precious
Goblin King will be buried alive in rubble." Gasping for breath, feeling
as if he were drowning Richi shut his eyes. The pain in his chest was too
great. He died.
"Jareth?" Tariel said as she stepped a little closer to the
pentangle. Her eyes were pleading. She reached out for him but on instinct
he reacted as far back as he could away from him.
"Do you love me, Jareth?" She asked him.
He tried to think for a moment. "I know that Jeremy loved Elania."
"But that's not good enough. You have to face that Elania is a part
of who I am. She might seem different but I created her from a part of
myself that I usually deny. Jareth, you must understand that Elania is just
a part of me, I am Tariel. Look at me. Look at me completely for who I
truly am. This is who I am. I am Tariel of Blackrose. I am also Elania.
Elania is a part of me just as Jeremy is a part of you. She is an illusion
that shows only the aspects of who I am that I usually hide from others and
she hides the face of Tariel but she is still me, Tariel. Now, do you love
ME? There mustn't be any hesitation."
He looked at her closely in her true form. "I=E2=80=A6 I=E2=80=A6" Searching her
eyes he realized suddenly that all along he had loved Tariel only he had
never been willing to admit it. She was defiant. She had never been afraid
of him. In will and strength they were evenly matched. And their human
guises expressed exactly the same thing. "Yes." He said finally. He was
desperate. He could already feel that tine was running out. "Yes, I love
you. I always have but do you? Is it the same?"
She looked deep in to Jareth's eyes. Always they had been the same,
Jeremy's eyes and Jareth's. She had loathed his arrogance, his self
assuredness but what one hates in others is what one usually finds they
actually hate about themselves. She looked at him closely in his true form as
if for the very first tine. Searching his eyes she realized suddenly that all
along she had loved Jareth only she had never been willing to admit it. He
was aggressive, and powerful. He had never been afraid of her. That was
something that she had not been used to. In her realm of Blackrose just as
he in The Underground with him, she was the most powerful creature there. In
will and strength they were evenly matched. And their human guises expressed
exactly the same thing.
"You have to trust me." She took his hand.
"I trust you." He said finally as he stepped from the pentangle, the
barrier not preventing him and nothing happening other then her pulling him
out of his trap.
They embraced and then quickly pulled from one and other. That was
the first time they had ever touched each other out of affection for one and
other in their true forms.
Jareth looked to Angela who still stood in the corner of the room.
Pulling the knife up from Richi's corpse and stepped towards Angela. Tariel
quickly grabbed Jareth's arm, and pleaded. "No, Jareth. She had a child."
Jareth felt a moment of rare compassion for his true self, for the
first time in a long while allowing his human self to merge with his true
self and tossed aside the knife. "Get out of here now!" he said to Angela.
Without a second thought the woman ran from the building and Jareth
and Tariel disappeared.
The goblins stared in wonder as their master kissed Tariel of
Blackrose. They were very much so confused. This was the strangest thing
they had ever seen.
They kissed deeply and passionately.
The feel of her soft, subtle lips was like the taste of a fresh peach
to him. He savoured it. His mouth was partially opened as he allowed
himself to taste her sweetness.
She was so warm. He pressed himself close to her, wrapping himself
around her, wishing that he could somehow merge in with her. He did not want
to let her go.
His kiss was strong and deep. It was strangely forceful. If one
can imagine feeling a blow from being smacked by Staten that that is what she
felt just then. And she enjoyed it immensely. She could taste him. She
pressed close in to him.
"But how did he know=E2=80=A6?" Asked Tariel.
"He obviously dabbled in magick and in following you and I, he must
have studied folklore and in his mad paranoia came up with an idea so insane
that it was absolutely true."
To: .
Subject: [labyfic] Though we're strangers (Repost) part 10
From:
Date: Wed, 12 Apr 2000 22:53:54 EDT
Jeremy kneeled over on one knee and took Elania's hand in to his
own. It had been three months since the incident with Richi. "Will you
marry me, Elania." He asked.
"No." She replied simply.
He frowned. He felt crestfallen. Then he saw the gleam in her eyes.
He smiled. He knew what he had to do. He knew what had to be said.
Jareth, The Goblin King took Tariel of Blackrose in to his arms and
stared deep in to her eyes. "Tariel of Blackrose, will you do the honour of
being my Queen?"
Tariel smiled and nodded as she pressed in and kissed his lips gently.
"Yes.'
It was Saturday night as Elania sat at the nightclub and waited for
her husband to climb the stage. He was to perform tonight. It was very
nearly routine only tonight she had something to tell him..
Jeremy climbed up on to the stage he noticed that his lovely
young wife, Elania stood in the crowd. She was so very beautiful in the
light. But she had been ill lately and it made him worry. Her cheeks were
slightly swollen in both her mortal as well as in her immortal form. And she
had been violently ill this morning, as Tariel she had been.
He sighed.
The song began with the tinkling that sounded rather like the sound
of a music box. That is how he had wanted it to sound. This was caused by
the keyboard trickery.
The song had a soft, rhythmic bass.
Jeremy grabbed up the hand held microphone off of the stand and began to sway
his hips in time to the music soft, flowing music as he prepared to sing. He
did not need magick to have a fantastic voice.
He looked down at the floor of the stage and then he looked
directly and intently at the audience or at least those in the crowd who were
paying some mind to him. It was not a large audience but it was an audience
nonetheless and one face in particular in that audience he could not take his
eyes from. She was the reason why he was singing this. She was all that
mattered to him..
He could feel the tension in the air. It was marvelous. It felt like
a kind of magick to him and he loved it. With a graceful thrust he
made a slight turn.
He moved with the music as if it had entranced him and in a way it
had. He felt his head swimming from the energy and momentum of it all. It
seemed that this moment was more potent then any that he had ever known
before.
He spun around once on the tips of his shoes and then he began to
sway his hips in precision to the gentle, swaying music. In private this
would have looked actually quite ridiculous but on stage it seemed to be
fantastic.
The different aspects to the music vibrated the stage and swam
together forming a great melody out of several countless sounds that swirled
and mixed together like the ingredients of a great stew of noises. It was a
spinning of swirled and mingled colour forming a fantastic and beautiful
image, a soft, subtle painting of sound. And it was art and he loved it
because it was art.
He stepped forward about five steps and then moved full circle,
turning in circles for a moment or two.
He knew the steps to his own dance moves by heart. He honestly did
not really need to see his legs at all. He just allowed the music to take
him. Most good dances did not really need to look down at all when dancing
any way; they just let the rhythm take them as he was doing just then.
He looked intensely at the crowd. He had a purpose for doing this.
He only really wanted to be happy and at that moment he was. He was
happier then he had ever been in a long while. He looked at the blurred and
vague faces from beyond the stage. They were his audience and they were here
to see him but he was singing to one in particular that he knew would be in
that crowd.
It came suddenly, that magical moment when the music, the singer
and the audience all melded together as one. He was connected to them. He
was connected to that crowd. He had never felt anything like it before. It
was fantastic. That was the whole point to his creating art in any form, to
connect to others. He had to express himself. He had to make others feel
and he wanted to be understood. And in making others feel and think and
understand that was his fulfillment, that was his greatest happiness, perhaps
the only real happiness that he had ever really known. And he also knew that
is also a feeling that he knew and shared with Tariel.
At a precise note he sang after a certain note when the based had been in for
ten seconds or so he simply allowed himself to fall in to it, sensing the
exact moment to sing more then anything else.
If he made just one mistake the whole world, it seemed would
have heard it.
Well, it was too late to turn back now. His song had already
begun.
Everyone seemed to love it when he finally spoke up the opening
lyrics.
The music had seemed like it had long ago come in yet it had only
been a few seconds. It echoed through the room. It was pure. He loved it.
He made a few graceful dance moves to the music as it came. A
stretched step here, and there. It was difficult because it was a small stage
but it was workable.
He made a graceful turn with his microphone in his hand. He became
one with the music itself, that it was so pure.
So enthralled he was by the sound and feel of it all that he
was afraid that he had forgotten it but now he had remained focussed enough.
Then the moment came. It was precise and enchanting moment when
the music and the poetry became one and the song As the world falls down was
heard..
"There's such a sad love deep in your eyes,
A kind of pale jewel,
Open and closed within your eyes,
I'll place the sky within your eyes,"
Oh, it was absolute bliss for him just then.
It was as if he had achieved a state of nirvana in this, that he
had become one with everything in enlightenment and physical and mental
perfection. It was totally fabulous. It was absolutely amazing for him. He
seemed actually contented, and that was the magic of it all, the great and
powerful illusion. And this was so utterly perfect and yet no one knew what
it exactly was that achieved this splendid moment fixed forever, at least for
him at any rate, in time.
The whole mortal world seemed to have heard him and now they fell
in to the music with him as he was the whole world. He and the audience came
together. They were one in the sound and vision, in the song.
Now he let the music move him in time to the song so that his
whole form turned and folded as if yielding to a distant signal, forcing him
to dance with as much grace and beauty as any creature possibly could. The
music entranced and enthralled him as well as the crowd and without any
reason but to be the actual music he danced.
He let the passion of the song carry him as he swayed his hips in
time to the music.
His voice was heard through the building clearly echoing from off
of the walls. Oh, it was glorious.
His voice echoed through the room. His own voice hurt his ears for
a moment before he allowed himself to adapt to it's strange and amplified
sound.. He had wanted it that all of the audience would hear the same thing,
his own voice rising above all else. It was alien to him, the way that his
own voice sounded, raised in volume over speakers.
"There's such a fooled heart
Beating so fast in search of new dreams,
A love that will last within your heart,
I'll place the moon within your heart,
As the pain sweeps through
It makes no sense for you,
Every thrill has gone,
It wasn't too much fun at all
But I'll be there for you=E2=80=A6
As the world falls down,
It's falling=E2=80=A6
As the world falls down,
It's falling down=E2=80=A6
As the world,
Falling down,
Falling in love,
I'll paint you mornings of gold,
I'll spin you Valentine evenings,
Though we're strangers till now
We're choosing the path between the stars,
I'll leave my love between the stars,
As the pain sweeps through
It makes no sense for you,
Every thrill has gone,
It wasn't too much fun at all
But I'll be there for you=E2=80=A6
As the world falls down,
It's falling,
As the world,
It's Falling down,
It's falling,
As the world falls down,
It's falling,
It's falling,
Falling,
Falling in love,
As the world falls down,
Down,
It's falling,
It's falling,
It's falling,
Falling,
Falling in love,
As the world falls down,"
A small musical interlude followed, mainly by soft tinkling, the light bass
and the somewhat subdued sound of an electric guitar. Now he let the music
move him in time to the song so that his whole form turned and folded as if
yielding to a distant signal, forcing him to dance with as much grace and
beauty as any creature possibly could. The music entranced and enthralled
him as well as the crowd and without any reason but to be the actual music he
danced.
He the song carry him.
He knew the steps to his own dance moves by heart. He honestly
did not really need to see his legs at all. Most good dances did not really
need to look down at all when dancing any way; they just let the rhythm take
them as he was doing just then.
He had one of the greatest singing voices that this world
had ever known and would ever know. Elania, though he would always hate to
admit it could always sing better then he could. .
"It's falling,
It's falling,
It's failing,
Makes no sense at all,
Makes no sense to fall,
Falling,
As the world falls down,
Falling,
Falling,
Falling in love,
As the world falls down,
Down,
Falling,
Falling,
Falling in love,
Falling in love
Love,
Falling in love,
Falling in love,
Falling in love,
Falling in love,"
The song faded out and Jeremy walked off of the stage.
In the back alley of the nightclub he stood waiting for her. She had
something important that she wanted to tell him.
She stepped up behind him. "Jareth?"
He turned around with a smile. "Yes, darling?"
"I'm with child, love."
Jareth swept her up and spun with her in his arms. She was carrying
his baby. He had never been so happy as he was then. The reams of
Blackrose and The Underground were now united and their child, prince Alex
would be their heir. For once in a very long time Jareth could see that in
fact everything for him was falling in to place.
"Are you happy?" Tariel asked Jareth.
And Jareth replied with "Oh, yes. Yes, I am. I am very happy."
And maybe, just maybe they really did live happily ever after.
The End.