"My king, the witch is here to see you."
A small goblin bowed before his master, fur quivering with the effort.
The King did not notice, instead he simply waved a gloved hand and implied that she be shown in.
Kowtowing, the smaller goblin walked backward out of the room and gestured to his partner, who took the signal as a 'go' and ushered a tied-up young female into the King's presence.
Jareth's voice crackled across the courtroom, echoing in a dramatic manner.
"You may go."
Repeating the steps of his successor, the creature exited, leaving the two alone.
When it was gone, Jareth eyed the girl.
"So you're the one who's been causing my gatekeepers so much trouble then?"
The girl looked up from under a mop of starch white hair. "What's it to you, goblin?"
He smiled and stood. "Impudence will get you nowhere, witch."
"I'm no witch!" She bared her teeth indignantly. "I am cerubim!"
"An angel?" Jareth laughed a humorless laugh and stepped down from his pedestal, walking behind the smaller entity.
"Some call us that, yes."
"Us?" The King shook his head and bent down behind her, fiddling with the knot around her wrists. "I believed the cerubim all dead for many centuries." He untied her, and the girl stood, pulling at rope on her back.
"Well you were mistaken, cretin. Now, I came here to see the Goblin King, not some distasteful lackey. Take me to your master!" She untied herself the rest of the way, and stretched to reveal impressive snow white wings with a span of at least ten feet.
"Ah, you are cerubim."
"Told you." The angel growled, rolling a shoulder of its stiffness.
"Well," Jareth sat again in his throne. "Your search ends here. I am the Goblin King. Creator of the labyrinth, ruler of all Utopia!" He laughed.
The cerubim's pale eyes widened, and she fell to her knees. "Forgive me, I did not realize you were master Jareth."
He flicked a hand. "It is forgotten. Now, what is your business, and what is your name?"
"My name is Leila. I come as an emmisary of the cerubim. We seek your help."
"I am willing to provide whatever you may require, however, is it not so that the cerubim are much, much more powerful than a mere goblin?" He raised an amused eyebrow at the words, and crossed his arms.
"It is true, sire, that we hold in us the key to certain magicks beyond that of normal comprehension. However, there is a sickness among us."
"A sickness? And you believe I have a medicine to cure it?"
"No master... it is not so much a sickness that can be cured with medicine."
At this, the King raised a brow.
Leila continued, shaking her head. "It is a sickness of the very soul, sir."
"I see," He looked up, as if thinking. "It is a very powerfull ill then; but I do not understand how you think I can help."
"You must kill the one who spreads it."
"How will that help those who are already affected?"
"We are not sure it will. However, it must be stopped before more damage is done."
Jareth stood and began pacing. Leila stood as well, and followed him with her eyes.
"I am concerned, sire. I do not know why my people believe you can kill him; we have all tried and failed. Those who came close were infected and now fight for his cause."
"How am I expected to kill him?" Jareth stopped pacing and stood very near to Leila. "And if I do, what will be my benefit?"
"Blessings of the cerubim and a unique gift that no other could give."
The King stared at her pale, round face for a moment, trying to detect any deceit or hyperbole. He saw none.
"Very well. Where is he to be found?"
Leila showed visible relief at the same time as fear, and a smile formed on her face. "We believe the one called Lucifer dwells in the oubliettes with trolls and a few of your renegade servants." She clapped her hands, and out of the dust on the cavern floor formed a small pendant, silvery in color with a gold center. "This shall give you all the power necessary to destroy him." The angel knelt. "Good luck, my king."
The darkest angel and prince of the night cackled manically at the images portrayed in his crystal ball.
"So those quivering cowardly whitewings think that their sparkling goblin friend will destroy me, eh?"
"Oh no sire," A squeaky voice offered, an air of patronization about it. "This is their last chance; that Jareth will quickly realize that you are the true ruler of the cerubim once you finally have a chance to speak with him."
"Hmm," Lucifer preened a black feather, deep in thought. "Perhaps. Let us hope you are right, Beelzenef. If not, the King of the Goblins will be truly sorry."
Preparations made with lackeys to take care of the City, Jareth posed magestically, displaying his clear contempt for the musty oubliette at his feet.
His cerubim companion looked at him in curiosity, her own wings slightly quivering with anxiety.
"M'lord?"
Green eyes turned onto Leila expectantly.
"How is it that you are not... well, frightened? Do you not fear that the sickness will also touch your mind, and that you will lose your Labyrinth to the Prince of the Night?"
He stared intensely, then responded evenly in a low voice. "Leila, remember this above all else; where there is light, the darkness cannot remain."
And with that, the King jumped down in a feat of defiance to gravity and landed safely, ten yards below on the floor of the oubliette.
Shaking her small head, the cerubim followed, gliding gracefully.
Jareth offered up a gloved hand and pointed into the darkness of the tunnels.
"Shall we?"
For the first time, I fully appreciate my pale eyes.
Leila could see clearly down the pitch black holes gaping in front of her. Cobwebs accented every corner and crevice, and bats crawled about on the ceiling, fighting over small insects and the occasional tiny goblin.
The cerubim shuddered at the sight, and looked back down to eyelevel so she could stay in close proximity to the King.
"How much further?" She whispered. Talking aloud didn't feel quite right yet.
"Only a little way ahead." Jareth answered, voice at the same volume. "The necklace is increasingly urgent, so we must be closer."
Leila did not bother to ask what "the necklace is urgent" meant. Though being one herself, Leila did not even pretend to understand anything of angel magic, instead, she nodded her head and stuck close behind the goblin.
After a few moments of stumbling over rocks and dust, Jareth held a hand up sharply in Leila's face, and hissed "Quiet!" before moving again. Then, painstakingly slowly, he leaned around a corner and caught sight of the chaos on the other side of the wall.
Goblins, trolls and blackwing cerubim danced to candlelight, raucous music erupting from crude intruments and lavacious blackwing females selling services nearly unheard of in the underworld.
Jareth felt the blood rush to his head with rage, but managed to stay quiet and in place, simply observing for a moment.
At the back wall, behind the merrymaking, sat Lucifer in a throne made of thorns. He seemed oblivious to the havoc, and was quietly conferring with a small, gnarled white goblin. They seemed to be sharing a laugh or two, but the conversation was completely muted out by the voracity of the partying.
The Goblin King stepped back and shook his head. "This cerubim in a menace to my kingdom, and I will not stand for it any longer." His accent clipped the words viciously.
"Sire? If I may offer a suggestion?"
"Yes, what?" Jareth snapped, impatiently rubbing the bridge of his nose.
Leila raised a hand over Jareth's chest- making her look even smaller than she actually was in comparison- and waved her hand over the pendant. It glowed cherry red, then faded back to dull, and Jareth's tall, stately body snapped to that of a much smaller cerubim; a blackwing, to be exact.
He raised a now ink black eyebrow at her.
"Very clever, angel, very clever."
Leila blushed, then waved him on. "Go. I cannot change my own appearance, you must do this alone."
Jareth bowed his head in appreciation, then, with a flourish, whipped around the corner and joined the vile dancing of the underworld creatures.
As she watched him go, a tear pushed its way to Leila's eye and she whispered an angel blessing.
"Ava or Michael
Dawn or dusk
Be safe in your travels
Face not manic lust."
Jareth shouldered his way through the crowd, fighting off numerous drunks trying to dance with him and cries of "it's Lucifer! He wishes to join us!" and finally made it through to the backest, thinnest part of the mob, finally catching a clear view of the Prince himself and that perpetual weasel at his side.
When Lucifer spotted the observer, he plucked out a feather and waved the disguised King over with it.
"Come, come my child! What is it you desire?"
Voice thin with the vocals of a cerubim, Jareth replied unsurely. "Is that... well, would that be anything, my lord?"
"Oh, of course!" Lucifer stood, his black, hole-ridden cape gusting with the acceleration. "For loving me and serving me alone, you may have whatever you desire."
"Whatever I desire..." Jareth scratched his chin thoughtfully. "And what do you get in return for all this... appreciation?"
The Prince smiled, a sickly sight as his too-thin cheeks were accented by the lines of many years of scowling. "All I ask for in return is your loyalty...
"Jareth."
The Goblin King looked up sharply, and Lucifer simply laughed.
"You didn't think that pathetic get-up would fool me, did you?" Lightning fast, he grabbed Jareth's collar and sneered. "You would be better suited to not underestimate me again, Goblin." Then, quickly as he had gone bad, Lucifers good mood returned and he released the smaller being.
"Now remove that tasteless disguise, it humors me no longer." He waved a hand, and Jareth returned to his natural form, tall, blonde and angry.
"Know this, cerubim; your contempt and utter lack of respect for the King of the Goblins will not be forgotten, nor shall your cruelty toward my subjects and your fellow cerubim be."
The angel scoffed and threw himself back onto his throne, obviously feeling no discomfort at the thorny texture of it. "Your reign here is over, Goblin. The age of the blackwing has begun, and soon no cerubim will have a hint of purity on their pelts. The Labyrinth is mine, and as for your kingdom?" He chuckled. "Well. That will just be pratice for what my men are to do to Haeva-ahn."
The city of the cerubim... Jareth felt the first hint of fear touch him, but he quickly dismissed it and maintained an arrogant nonchalance.
"But you're forgetting one thing, Lucifer."
The more I think about it, the more it makes sense. I said it myself, did I not? Darkness must bow to light; he lives in the shadows in fear of the bravery of freedom.
Ava or Michael...
"What's that?" Lucifer sneered, flicking a hand toward Beelzenef, indicating something.
Dawn or dusk...
"You cannot conquer me," Jareth's snow-white smile crept out as he was seized from behind by two dark angels.
Be safe in your travels...
"What are you talking about? Kill him!" The Prince waved a hand angrily, and one of the angels brought a stone knife to Jareth's throat.
Face not manic lust...
The King began to laugh, and the redder Lucifer got, the louder Jareth laughed.
And then, white appeared. An explosion of pristine feathers vaulted over the back of Lucifer's chair and ripped the necklace from Jareth's throat, slamming it down on the ground causing tremendous sparking.
"AN ILLUMINATIS PENDANT? NO! HOW DID I NOT-"
Before Lucifer could flee, a snap of electricity bolted out of the cracks in the pendant and branched accross the entire cavern, zapping everything there but Jareth and the bundle of white.
After a great amount of screaming, noise died like a bird dropping out of the sky. Simply dead. quiet.
The bundle twitched, then stood, and Jareth found himself free of the angels' grasp. He looked to the white thing that had saved his life, and realized with only a hint of comedy that it was Leila. She was staring, wide-eyed at the pendant on the floor.
"That was..." Jareth started, then Leila held up a delicate hand.
"My lord, what that was, was very... lucky."
She looked from the pendant to the King, then shook her head.
"Sire, look around."
He followed instructions and realized that all the blackwings were gone. Well, not really gone so much as... changed. They were replaced with whitewings, and Jareth quickly realized that must have been part of the disease. Proving loyalty to the Dark Prince by making oneself look like him.
Disgusting.
At that thought, Jareth turned and realized that Lucifer was still black. In fact, he was more of a crispy black now than the evil black he had been before.
Leila whispered, "Do you think he's...?"
"He's dead." Jareth finished, then stretched to his full height and completely surveyed the room.
"These lazy louts, however, are not!" He thrust a boot into the side of a medium-sized goblin called Artouf, and Artouf quickly jumped at the feel of such a familiar shoe.
"Master!" It cried, and hugged his leg. "That one was evil, 'e wos! We wasn't fraternizin' of our own accord, master!"
"Of course not." Jareth rolled his eyes and waved a hand. "Now go wake up all your friends, they have a lot of mess to clean up." He turned to Leila and raised an eyebrow. "And now I believe I should speak to your superiors."
"Many a thank to you, Lord Jareth! The cerubim are e're in your debts for the elimiation such a jealous evile!" A rather fat (but still small in stature) cerubim gushed at the Goblin King, his manner of speaking nearly giving Jareth a headache.
"All in a days work, your majesty, but you should know that it was Le-"
"And of course of course all thanks be to three Lord Jareth! How days shall go by not a child wont hear of your braverism!"
"Yes but Leila-"
"Oh ay, the young whelp. She's a good head there but not a mite to do with it. Pithy shame, aight thus of the girl."
Jareth put up a hand and fought off a rage attack. "Alright, fine! I was promised a special reward...?"
"Oh yes! Yes, for that there we're havin' Leila do ya right good, the young whelp. A good head's that one-"
"Yes yes, just let me see her for Ava's sake!"
The fat cerubim clapped his hands, then with great effort, flapped off, mumbling about people who go on and on and never let a word in.
Leila appeared in a haze of dust, and smiled grandly when she saw Jareth. "Your highness!"
"Please, no more formalities, you may call me Jareth."
She nodded appreciatively. "Jareth then. So you've come for your reward then?"
"I was hoping for a bit of diplomacy first, but if that's your prime minister, I'll just stick with the earnings."
The cerubim laughed musically, and alighted on a pedestal. "Quite fine, Jareth. Now, are you ready for the bestowment?"
The King raised an amused eyebrow, which was all the signal Leila needed.
"Powers of Ava raised in flight
Blessed a man who won the night
And let him hence fore're be known
As GoblinKing, alight on throne."
Jareth felt a slight tingling and nothing more, then opened eyes he had not realized were shut.
He stared a moment, then shook his head. "I do not understand, what was the gift?"
"Think, 'Owl'."
As soon as the word penetrated Jareth's mind, he found himself in the air, with beautiful golden wings, hearing every noise in the entire kingdom.
"Whoo?" He chirruped.
Leila chuckled again. "Now think your name."
He did, and was once again a full bodied Goblin, standing in the throneroom of Haeva-ahn.
"It is an intriguing gift... one which I am sure will have many uses." Jareth smiled sardonically.
"I just hope you make the best of it." Leila flew down one more level, to be even with Jareth. She stepped forward and pressed something into his hand.
"And so you shall never forget our adventure."
He looked down at the Illuminatis pendant, in perfect repair.
Then the cerubim bowed, and Jareth tied the pendant around his neck.
Leila whispered and drew back.
"Long live the king!"