"And the time will come..."
Chapter one: the signs
The sun rose slowly over the barren horizon. There was a thin breeze in the air, whispering softly. It whipped lightly along the horizon causing leaves on the ground and weeds to rustle quietly. Along with the scenery of an extensive maze of solid stonewalls and shrubbery a lone figure was bathed in the morning sunlight. He stood alone on a hilltop accompanied by a half dead tree with no leaves and a small pile of boulders. He sighed contently as he pulled his cloak closer to his body, his hair swayed lightly with the breeze as it blew over him. His black cloak, which he pulled closer around him, was highlighted by the blood red poet's shirt underneath and added to the black leather pants and knee high black boots.
He loved to come out in the early morning and see the sun first cast its light upon his land. He enjoyed this almost as much as he did to see it bathed in moonlight, but only almost. He looked longingly out across his vast kingdom. The foreboding walls with the faint scent of magic in the air coming from the entrance to the Labyrinth and the work of the fairies that lived there. There was the rustling of the trees in the wind as they bent with quiet moans to the demands of the wind. The castle far in the distance glimmering with magic and crystal, its spiraling towers reaching high up into the sky. It magnificence matched only by the white almost iridescent glow of the walls surrounding the goblin city
And outside the city itself, the wild fauna and flora inhabited by all matter of creatures: goblins, fairies, dwarves, the fox of which Sir Didymus was member to and of course the sheepish gentle giants of Ludo's race. He dearly loved them all. They were his faithful servants. They knew all too well that he had to rule mercilessly but in all cases he was far. His subjects respected him because it was this cold demeanor that he was famous for and his ruthlessness in battle that kept them safe from other forces. Forces much darker than his and much more threatening.
One of these mornings he would have to drag his beautiful wife out of bed to enjoy the sunrise with him. Oh how she loved her ritual of sleeping in till the late morning. She was so much more the night owl that he was. (no pun intended) But since he was a Fae he could work on less sleep and not feel it, at least for a while. He had left her curled up in a ball sleeping contently under the layers of black silk sheets upon their bed. Her dark hair spread haphazardly across the dark pillow and a contented expression on her face.
Slowly but ever so carefully he noticed a chill wind in the air; it was far too early for fall to be coming so it meant one other thing. Something bad was coming or actually someONE. Jareth closed his eyes and pretended not to hear the soft moaning on the wind. "The time is near, my dear Goblin King." He knew the voice and from where it came, but he pretended to ignore it. He knew what was coming and he knew the problems already on hand. He sighed once more and began to walk toward the Labyrinth when he was stopped dead with a sound.
The distant but unrecognizable sound of crying. He bowed his head and in a blink disappeared. All that was left of him was the faint sense of magic in the air and a whisper, "Not again."
Chapter one: the signs
The sun rose slowly over the barren horizon. There was a thin breeze in the air, whispering softly. It whipped lightly along the horizon causing leaves on the ground and weeds to rustle quietly. Along with the scenery of an extensive maze of solid stonewalls and shrubbery a lone figure was bathed in the morning sunlight. He stood alone on a hilltop accompanied by a half dead tree with no leaves and a small pile of boulders. He sighed contently as he pulled his cloak closer to his body, his hair swayed lightly with the breeze as it blew over him. His black cloak, which he pulled closer around him, was highlighted by the blood red poet's shirt underneath and added to the black leather pants and knee high black boots.
He loved to come out in the early morning and see the sun first cast its light upon his land. He enjoyed this almost as much as he did to see it bathed in moonlight, but only almost. He looked longingly out across his vast kingdom. The foreboding walls with the faint scent of magic in the air coming from the entrance to the Labyrinth and the work of the fairies that lived there. There was the rustling of the trees in the wind as they bent with quiet moans to the demands of the wind. The castle far in the distance glimmering with magic and crystal, its spiraling towers reaching high up into the sky. It magnificence matched only by the white almost iridescent glow of the walls surrounding the goblin city
And outside the city itself, the wild fauna and flora inhabited by all matter of creatures: goblins, fairies, dwarves, the fox of which Sir Didymus was member to and of course the sheepish gentle giants of Ludo's race. He dearly loved them all. They were his faithful servants. They knew all too well that he had to rule mercilessly but in all cases he was far. His subjects respected him because it was this cold demeanor that he was famous for and his ruthlessness in battle that kept them safe from other forces. Forces much darker than his and much more threatening.
One of these mornings he would have to drag his beautiful wife out of bed to enjoy the sunrise with him. Oh how she loved her ritual of sleeping in till the late morning. She was so much more the night owl that he was. (no pun intended) But since he was a Fae he could work on less sleep and not feel it, at least for a while. He had left her curled up in a ball sleeping contently under the layers of black silk sheets upon their bed. Her dark hair spread haphazardly across the dark pillow and a contented expression on her face.
Slowly but ever so carefully he noticed a chill wind in the air; it was far too early for fall to be coming so it meant one other thing. Something bad was coming or actually someONE. Jareth closed his eyes and pretended not to hear the soft moaning on the wind. "The time is near, my dear Goblin King." He knew the voice and from where it came, but he pretended to ignore it. He knew what was coming and he knew the problems already on hand. He sighed once more and began to walk toward the Labyrinth when he was stopped dead with a sound.
The distant but unrecognizable sound of crying. He bowed his head and in a blink disappeared. All that was left of him was the faint sense of magic in the air and a whisper, "Not again."