Author's note: No I don't own the Labyrinth, nor do I own Jareth. Kirash however, is mine, and he is delightfully fun to write. This is my first attempt at a lengthy Labyrinth fic, and I decided to write it in the point of view of my villain. Enjoy!
The Fall of the King
One
Lightning streaked across the dark sky. The clouds opened up as though the lightning had torn a hole through them, and rain pelted the dry, glittering surface of the Labyrinth. Far across the landscape, the only indication that there was a Castle Beyond the Goblin City was the dim lights winking from the various windows that dotted the surface of the home of King Jareth. A tall, thin figure stood on the outskirts of the Labyrinth, watching it with contempt-filled eyes. He was swathed in black, the soft fabric of which barely rippled in the fierce wind that was stirring up the air around the Labyrinth. He had long, pale fingers, which wrapped around a hard, polished, ebony staff, topped with a dim scarlet stone, its facets gleaming dully in the reflected light of the storm. A hood sheathed his face in shadows. It was nearly time for him to put King Jareth in his place once and for all.
The Black Mage Kirash turned away from the Labyrinth with disgust. True, he desired the land more than anything else, but that was more for the power he'd gain with its control. Dealing with wished away children and runners was a job he wasn't particularly looking forward to, but he could always use Jareth as a slave, and force him to continue to harass the runners, a cruel reminder of his former glory. Kirash released a soft chuckle that sounded more like the hiss of a snake. From his earliest days, he could remember hating no one more than he hated Jareth the Magnificent, the pompous, arrogant Fae who controlled the Labyrinth with a lazy hand. Jareth, the jewel of the Fae community, Jareth, the genius magician, who only ever was defeated once, Jareth, the Master of the Labyrinth, the most powerful entity in the whole of the Underground.
Kirash scowled at the clouds. Though he liked the darkness and thunderstorms, he couldn't suppress a feeling of rage that the Labyrinth seemed to be oblivious to the storm. It remained intact, surfaces still glittering with that hateful glitter Jareth put everywhere, its inhabitants curling up in their habitats, unharmed by the fierce lightning. What he wouldn't give to just smite one, wretched little worm.
He would run things differently. Oh sure, Jareth's subjects feared him, but the fool had allowed his heart to be softened by a little mortal girl. Though the Goblin King assured his peers that he had long since forgotten the incident, Kirash knew better. He now held a soft spot for mortal girls, and their runs through the Labyrinth were getting suspiciously easy. Kirash knew Jareth was lonely. That was where he would strike. He would wait for a runner, and attack the Labyrinth at its weakest: when Jareth was so consumed by maintaining the Labyrinth's illusions that he wouldn't notice Kirash's unwanted presence. Then Kirash would absorb the power that Jareth had no gratitude for. Those stupid goblins would actually learn how to make it through a battle without falling over each other's feet. They would be so afraid of their new king that there would be no more drunken scenes in the throne room.
Kirash stalked towards the dark forest that bordered the Labyrinth. Hidden within the trees was his home, a tower he'd constructed from his own Dark Magic years ago. Of course, Jareth had forbidden him to be so close to the Labyrinth, but his crystals could not detect Kirash's tower. Jareth was of the notion that Kirash still inhabited the shanty cottage that he'd been banished to years ago, in the far reaches of the Underground. The run-down building was ensconced in a wreath of rocky outcropping in the region of Temeril, an abandoned wasteland where Fae royalty banished their enemies to peril in the harsh conditions. Kirash snorted contemptuously. As if he'd ever allow himself to be condemned to such a life. Jareth had always underestimated him. No more.
The trees changed as he moved deeper within the forest, becoming blacker and more gnarled. For some reason, close proximity to his tower seemed to sap the beauty from the trees, creating a toxic appearance. Not that Kirash minded. He found the effects of his power fascinating. The fact that he even had the ability to influence the forces of nature never failed to astound him. He never took that for granted. Which was why he would win.
Finally, he reached his tower and his thin lips twisted into a wry smile. Black, tall, mesmerizingly powerful, his tower was a place of power and control. He tapped his staff upon the ground five times, in a syncopated pattern. Only such a particular noise would open the sealed oak door to his tower. Of course, the door opened noiselessly, secretly. Kirash enjoyed that, for soundlessness and secrecy were his ways of life. It was the only way to make sure your enemy was unsurprised when you attacked. The second he stepped into his echoing entrance hall, black torches flared to light with eerie green flames. He smirked. He liked green light, it made everything look weaker than it actually was.
The entrance hall was empty, simply constructed of black stone, and containing one door leading down to Kirash's dungeons, and a spiralling staircase leading up to his study and his sleeping quarters.
Kirash threw back his hood at last. Though his face and shape marked him as no older than thirty-nine in Abovegrounder years, his long, straight hair was silver, and shone unnaturally. His face was sallow and hollowed out, his skin sickly and pinched. Hidden within deep, purple hollows were his eyes. Though he had once hated them thoroughly, he enjoyed their effects now, for he merely had to glance at a person to terrify them. Kirash's eyes were blank, purely white, with no iris or pupil. They gleamed, seeming to glow in the dim light of his green torches. Though his eyes were colourless, he knew that they held intelligence, and people could still detect when he had decided to look at them. A long, white scar ran down his jawline. He gritted his teeth as he remembered the cause of his deformity.
He had not looked as odd as a young man. He had been a handsome youth, possessing bronze coloured hair and acid green eyes that entranced any woman he decided to waste time upon. He had been tanned and built, the envy of all he knew. He had been oblivious to the world of magic, living as an Abovegrounder with a promising career as an actor. Of course. He'd had everything.
Then one night, his foolish niece had said the words as he'd argued with his sister. She had wanted him to sit again, and who was he to waste his time with children? Kirash's sister had always been a rash, foolish woman, who delighted in filling her daughter's head with ridiculous fantasies. Kirash had flat out refused to help his sister. He had resented the fact that she'd always turned to him, taking away so much of his time that could have been better spent in bars, or before a mirror, or in a gym, bettering his appearance. He had shouted. Kirash was sure he'd even struck his sister; he'd always had a notoriously bad temper. All of a sudden, from the corner of his sister's small kitchen, he'd heard the shriek.
"I wish the goblins would take you away right now!" He'd turned to laugh at the little girl. But as his sister screamed in horror, he felt the world beneath him drop away, and suddenly he'd landed in the middle of a round throne room.
"What the hell?" he'd exclaimed.
And he'd remained in the Underground ever since. He had dropped his Aboveground name of Kevin, in favour of something a little more impressive. Neither his niece nor his sister wished to run the Labyrinth, and Jareth had been puzzled at first by the situation. Kirash had originally been fascinated by the glittery Goblin King, who managed to appear masculine despite his flamboyant style of dress. Jareth had not had a clue as to what to do with a grown man who'd been wished away by a little girl; it was a completely backwards situation. Jareth had assumed, however, that Kirash had been wicked. So he had forced Kirash to live in the Goblin City, cleaning up after the wretched creatures that were his subjects.
Then Kirash had discovered magic. On his free days, he wandered around the Labyrinth, searching for anything that caught his eye. He'd found a scarlet gem nestled deep within an oubliette. He found he could channel energy through it, and soon had carved himself a staff to house the gem, which focused the power he now controlled. Kirash had become desperate to learn anything he could of power, and so he began sneaking into the Castle, to steal Jareth's magical volumes. When Jareth learned of what Kirash was doing, he had banished him from the Labyrinth, afraid of his power, no doubt. So Kirash had roamed the Underground, picking up tips and skills in each of the regions he'd visited, until one day, he returned to the Labyrinth to challenge Jareth for so unfairly forcing him to work, and then banishing him, instead of nurturing his clearly budding talent.
Kirash had rashly underestimated the extent of Jareth's might. The fight had barely lasted five minutes before Kirash's appearance had been changed forever into the haunted visage that he now bore. And Jareth had banished him to Temeril.
Kirash gnashed his teeth as the memory hit him with the force of a full gale. Jareth would pay for all the wrongs he had inflicted upon him. Kirash would rule, and he would have the power that eluded him. And once he controlled the Labyrinth, he could control the whole of the Underground with his power. He had been excommunicated from every civilization as the feared Black Mage. His days as an outcast were numbered. Kirash would never allow any being to disrespect him again. As time had passed in the Underground, he had aged very slowly, disturbing all Fae he had run across; how was it that a human had suddenly acquired the Fae ability to age so slowly that they had prolonged longevity? Kirash had known from early on it was the magic of the Labyrinth. The fools would all fear him soon enough, even Jareth, whom Kirash had grudgingly respected until he had allowed that foolish Sarah Williams to defeat the Labyrinth.
There's installment number one! Please read and review, constructive criticism is always welcome, and let me know what you all think of Kirash! Thanks!