Moonlight Madness
By White Infinity21
Disclaimer: I don't own the Labyrinth nor will I profit in anyway form this story.
A crisp wind blew through the bustling town as the sun slowly set, staining the sky with reds and oranges. The scent of autumn was in the air and summer was nearing its end. The town's residents were hurrying about, getting their errands finished before night came. Mothers were herding their noisy children inside. Women were hanging outside the storefronts, getting in the last bit of gossip before they returned home. Young men were returning from their work in the fields, getting ready for the big harvest. The young ladies were standing off in groups discussing which of the lads they fancied and talking amongst themselves on which ones they wanted to snag as a husband. A couple of adolescents were engaged in a game involving a ball and several sticks, their antics so energetic that they more than once crashed into people on their way home only to run off with the adult furiously yelling at them.
All in all, it was a normal day in this moderately-sized, rural town. The seemingly newlywed couple that walked down the town's dusty main road was no exception to this rural, farm town scene. The only unusual thing about them was not the fact that they practically attached at the hip, looking at the other with stars in their eyes, that was quite normal for young couples. No, what caught the eyes of the town's people as they wandered by clearly deeply in love with each other, was the slight air of otherworldliness that hung about them. Despite their deceptive youthfulness, if one were to look into their eyes, they would see the wisdom of countless years gone by, hiding secrets that only they would ever know.
As the sun finally sunk completely beyond the horizon, the young couple mad their way over to one of the more popular local taverns, the Peacock's Pride, with a faded peacock with its beak up in the air painted on the tavern's weather-worn sign. Glancing up at the sign, the young woman giggled a bit, and whispered something into her companion's ear. With mock indignation, he exclaimed, "I am not!", which only prompted more giggles on the female's part as they entered the tavern.
Their entrance into the tavern hardly caused a reaction in the slightly smoky room, the regulars were used to strangers coming and going, if not regularly, but often enough so that it wasn't an unusual event. They made their way over to a table at the northwest corner of the room where they could have a good view of all the other tavern's occupants without being in the direct line of sight of many of the customers. A barmaid came over just a few moments after they took their seats. The man ordered a glass of last year's red wine and the day's stew while the woman ordered a mug of mulled cider and a plate of chicken with mashed potatoes.
"Tis' a bit earlier than usual for someone to order cider," the barmaid commented.
"I haven't had a good mug of mulled cider for years and I have heard that this place serves the best in the entire region," the woman explained.
The waitress, obviously pleased with the woman's comment, bustled off to fill their order. A few moments later, a man dressed in a slightly faded, green silk shirt that had obviously seen better days with a dark brown cotton vest over it, trail-worn leather breeches and boots, and a large red, floppy felt hat that had a large white feather sticking out of it came out of the backroom. He sauntered across the tavern floor as if he had not a care in the world and took a spot at the right end of the bar where he started setting up his instrument.
The man took one look at the foppish self-proclaimed minstrel and groaned. The woman, thinking something was amiss, looked at him, her eyes puzzled. Her partner lifted one arm and pointed towards the bar, at which the woman let out a chuckle when she saw who was there.
"Not him, again," the man complained, "it seems that every town we go to, that sorry excuse for a minstrel follows us."
"You only dislike him because he tried to come onto me," the woman responded.
"That daft man must have been absolutely blind not to see that you were already spoken for," he spoke with a possessive tone.
"Personally, I think that his music is not half bad," the woman commented.
"Oh what? Now you are siding with that young fop over there?!!" he cried out.
"No, I was just making an observation," she explained, a bit annoyed.
The man opened his mouth to reply but the food arrived at just that moment, cutting off what ever he was about to say. As soon as the mug of hot mulled cider was put on the table by the barmaid, the woman with a look of anticipation snatched it up and took a long draft from the mug. A look of absolute bliss slid over her face as the spicy yet smooth cider slid down her throat. Her companion chuckled.
"Careful love," he said, "you are giving quite the show to the other men."
Putting the mug down, the woman shot him an irate glare. He just chuckled again. Any further conversation between the two was cut short by a request for a song by one of the customers.
"Hey bard, can you play The Moon Mad King for us?" a burley, middle-aged man asked.
"Sure thing my fine fellow, that just happens to be one of my favorites," the minstrel cheerfully responded.
"For the love of the Underground, not that piece of doggerel again," the man moaned, "I still wish that I could get my hands on the idiot that wrote that piece of rubbish."
"You only complain about it since you think that the song puts you in a bad light," the woman teased, "personally I think that it is kind of romantic."
"Women," he sighed, looking up at the ceiling.
"Men," she mock sighed back. Then she stuck her tongue out at him.
"Don't stick that thing out unless you mean to use it," he taunted.
The woman blushed and fell silent. The man, a feeling of smug superiority that came with getting one over his companion, leaned back in his chair. That feeling vanished the moment the minstrel opened his mouth and the words of the song he absolutely detested came pouring out. The woman just smirked at her suffering partner.
There once was a young maid,
Such a precious little thing,
Who, one day in a fit of pique
Wished away her little brother to the Goblin King.
Through trials unnumbered and hardships untold,
The maiden went through the Labyrinth
To reclaim the babe that the king had stole.
The man shot a long-suffering look at his female companion.
"What?!! I was only fifteen, I didn't know any better!" she defended.
He just rolled his eyes.
But that is another tale for another time,
What I am about to tell you, good ladies and gents is a different rhyme.
For years upon years,
There t'was not a sign
Of the girl nor the babe
Which no one could not define.
They both winced at that really familiar, really bad line.
Till one moonlit night,
Quiet as a shadow and out of thin air,
The maid did appear.
No one knew why or how the girl returned,
But one thing was clear,
She was no longer a child
But a woman in all ways.
Many approached the maid,
Some old friends and some old foes,
Curious as to why she was here.
Changed she was, they all agreed.
A strange fire danced in her eyes
That spoke of hidden knowledge and mysterious deeds.
Moon touched they said she was,
Mad in her own way,
As if something unworldly had met with her
And left something behind.
"You never have told me what happened during that time," the man accused.
"I promised that I would tell you some day," the woman replied.
"You haven't told me yet," he almost whined, giving her his best wounded puppy-dog look.
"And I won't tell you tonight, either," she told him, completely unfazed by her partner's pitiful look.
He just sat back and grumbled a bit, before shooting a nasty glare at the minstrel that continued singing completely unaware of the look he was receiving.
She took to the woodlands and the misty moors
Doing heaven knows what,
Though never once did commit a foul misdeed.
None dared to trouble her
Her legend in the Underground was great,
For what fool would mess with the one
Who had defeated the Goblin King?
The woman smirked. She always loved that particular part. Her partner only shook his head in exasperation. He really loathed that part.
Strange sightings soon started pouring in,
Of a girl who danced during the full moon to music no one could hear
And unexplainable events that happened whenever she was near.
There was the report of the aging sheepdog
That suddenly turned into a puppy.
Or the one where the fountain suddenly dried up
Only to spring back into life nine days later
As if nothing had happened.
Many things went missing
To be found later in the oddest of places.
Like the baker's rolling pin
That showed up in a high lady's wardrobe,
Or the blacksmith's hammer
That was found neatly placed atop a guard tower.
"I've always wondered how you did those things," the man commented offhandedly.
"That's for me to know and you to never find out," she mischievously answered, "besides, who said that I was the one that did all that?"
The man's eyebrows rose in surprise at that statement.
Such occurrences continued on for several months,
And the King's subjects were getting fed up.
So in a mob they went,
Right up to the castle's front gate
And demanded to see the King.
The Goblin King, curiouser than most
Decided that he should see what was causing all the fuss,
Went out on the night of the next full moon.
He met with the girl and watched entranced
As she danced and sang under the full moon's glow.
Un-kingly thoughts filling his mind
As she swung her hips to and fro.
The occupants of the tavern hooted and made suggestive motions to the bar wenches at that line.
With eyes shinning she drew him into her dance
Like a mortal caught up in a fairy ring,
The Goblin King was bewitched.
Whether it be hours or days
They danced with the moon
Following her lead and dancing to her tune.
"That was quite the night. I can never quite clearly recall what happened during our first dance," the woman sighed wistfully.
"Our second dance, actually," the man helpfully added.
"That first one doesn't count," she tartly shot back, "if I recall correctly I was under the influence at that time thanks to you."
"Petty details," the man spoke, waving off her retort, "although I do have some very fond memories of what we did after that dance. You were quite wild that time."
The woman blushed and smacked her companion on the back of the head.
"Oww," he wined, "what was that for?"
"Oh shut up," she mock huffed, "besides we're missing the song."
"As if we haven't heard it a million times before. I still want to strangle who ever came up with that blasted limerick," the man darkly grumbled.
When at last the moon set,
The girl and the King vanished
Setting the kingdom in a panic.
For days they searched across the kingdom
For their missing king
But it was their bad luck to find not a thing.
Thirteen days later, following the new moon
The King reappeared,
But he was not on his own.
For with him was a young mortal boy,
(Really just a babe)
Who had eyes of sky-blue
That seemed to look into one's soul.
"I remember that those eyes of his frequently got him into trouble with the local gals when he got older," the man reminisced.
"He only got into so much mischief with all those girls because you had a bad effect on him," the woman rebuked.
"He is his father's son," he proudly stated.
"His father's adopted son," she corrected.
"Details, details," he replied flippantly, with a causal wave of his hand.
In front of the entire kingdom,
The King proclaimed,
That this young lad was to be the next Goblin King.
The King himself was different
Back from his mysterious fling
It was whispered that they had a moon mad king.
The man snorted. A few of the tavern's occupants who had been watching the couple's antics ever since they got in gave him off looks,
The years went by,
And the young prince grew.
The maiden kept dancing and the King oftentimes too.
It was a strange kind of love,
The two that they shared.
They never married,
Nor did they live in under the same roof,
But the love shinning in each others' eyes was more than enough proof.
Hardly seeing the other during the day,
But frequently meeting at night,
The King and the Moon Maiden
Often danced under the full moon's light.
Many times when the King joined his lady love
Under the moonlight
They vanished out of sight.
Days later he would return alone
With a slightly feral air about him
and a fey fire that burned in his eyes
that same that shone in his lady's eyes.
"Fey fire? How quaint," the man mocked. The woman just slugged him in the arm and told him to be quiet much to the amusement of several of the other tavern occupants.
The cycle continued,
One season turning into the next,
The years passing by.
Things continued that way,
As the young prince became a man,
And the King slowly became completely Moon Mad.
The King's councilors despaired on what to do,
For as the madness slowly consumed him,
He became more and more distant,
Neglecting his duties
Preferring to spend hours on end staring at the moon.
"I didn't think I was that bad", the man remarked, slightly offended.
"No, you were worse," the woman replied, giggling.
He shot her a nasty look.
The situation was getting desperate,
Farms were being untended,
Shops were left unopened.
People milled about in the streets,
Confused and unsure of what to do.
It continued this way,
Till one Mid-Summer's Night,
When the moon was full and bright.
The Lady of the Labyrinth,
Mad as a fae,
Came and spirited the Goblin King away.
"I always liked that title," the woman wistfully sighed. Her partner deliberately ignored her.
The next day when the prince came down,
Naught but his father's pendant was to be found.
Amongst the chaos and confusion, they say
Prince Toby was crowned Goblin King that very day.
Now what happened to Old King Jareth and his Lady Love,
You ask?
If you look carefully on a full moon night,
One can be greeted with quite a sight.
Among the moonbeams,
With the sprites and will-o-wisps,
The shadows of Jareth and Sarah dance to unearthly music
Under the silver moonlight.
"I still don't see why you like that thing so much," the man griped.
"Men," she groaned, "I suppose that they could not appreciate a romantic song if it came and bit them on the butt."
"I will never get used to your weird Aboveground sayings," the man remarked, "besides, I can be romantic when I want to."
"Yeah, once in a blue moon," she snorted.
"Sarah, you wound me," the man dramatically slumped back in his chair as if in great pain.
"Get over it Jareth," Sarah told him.
"I just don't get why that dratted song is sung almost every night that has a full moon," Jareth complained.
"Because the full moon is practically the theme of the song?" Sarah sarcastically asked.
Jareth chose not to answer that question.
"Besides, the moon will be rising soon," Sarah continued.
"We best be going then," Jareth declared.
"Yes we don't want to skip our monthly ritual," Sarah teased, "or is it the fact that we usually make love like rabbit bunnies after the moon sets for the next twelve hours afterwards that makes you so keen to get outside on the night of the full moon?"
A light blush spread across his face at Sarah's provocative statement. Her time as a Moon Child certainly had made her very brash in some ways he mused. Not that he minded at all. It was somewhat refreshing to hear speech patterns that were so different from the norms of the Underground.
"Well, Lord Owl, will you do me the honor of giving me this dance," Sarah asked, curtseying.
"With great pleasure, Lady Luna," Jareth regally responded, bowing with a flourish, "I thought that you would never ask."
Sighing with happiness, Sarah buried her face in Jareth's chest inhaling his unique male scent. Heaven help her, she loved this man with all her heart and soul.
"I love you so much," she dreamily confessed.
"I know," he joked.
Sarah scowled and swiped at him playfully.
"Wrong answer, bucko," she shot.
"Peace Sarah. I love you too," he spoke.
"I know," she parroted back to him, a radiant smile on her face.
Jareth just smirked before leaning in for a kiss, swiftly capturing her lips with his own. A few hoots and catcalls came from the other tavern customers as Jareth came up and sent a roguish wink at their audience. With his arm firmly locked around Sarah's waist, the pair made their way out of the tavern, leaving their payment for the meal along with a good tip for the barmaid on the table. The tavern's patrons went back to their meals and drinks and soon enough another request for a song was hollered.
Jareth and Sarah walked away from the noisy tavern without looking back. A stray beam of moonlight came across their path and they walked right into it, disappearing with a small flash of glitter.
Out in a clearing in the forest a few miles away from the town, the moon's light drenched the small meadow in silver as a slightly haunting and unworldly strain of music drifted in the breeze as two shadows waltzed under the full moon.
This was my first Laby fan fic that I've written, so please don't be too harsh with your comments. I do want your feedback, but flames will not be appreciated. All flames will be used to roast Mary Sues. Any constructive criticism will be welcomed.
Depending on the responses, I might make this a one-shot or if there is enough interest I will continue this story, going more indpeth into what happened to Sarah and Jareth during the events that the song described.
I'll admit, I know that the song isn't the best piece of work, but it was fun to write. I'm not a very good poet or song writer, usually I hate the stuff, but I was inspired to write this after the first few lines (the part with "Till one Mid-Summer's Night, When the moon was full and bright")of the last part came to me in my Ecology class.
Reviews are the food of a fan fic author, so please feed me or this story will starve to death.