Disclaimer:All references to the characters Jareth & Sarah and the film Labyrinth belong to Jim Henson Studios and other pertinent parties. I do not claim ownership to the characters and / or the original source material.
King, Queen, Rook, Maze: Prologue. Ten Years Later
"Before the High and Low Fae Courts, the nobles present, and the dignitaries from surrounding Kingdoms, the Fairest calls her court to order. Having served his sentence of ten years imprisonment without protest, the Fairest has granted the release of Jareth mac Manannán mac Lir, Child of the Tuatha Dé Danann, Der König der Kobolde, Dominus Primus Labyrinthī Est, Son of the Esteemed Manannán mac Lir who led Us below the Earth, the King of the Goblins, He is the First Lord of the Labyrinth…"
As he knelt before the Queen of the Fae, he ignored the herald's endless drone about his "crime" and why the Fairest had decided to release him. He ignored the reproachful and haughty eyes, the anxious hush and still lips waiting to gossip about the fall of the abhorrent Goblin King. With half-lidded eyes, he kept his eyes focused on the polished marble floor in front of him. He would show no emotion here. He wouldn't give them the satisfaction of knowing how he felt, of what he truly wanted to do to this damnable mockery of a court.
"… was found guilty of neglecting his duties and refusing to appear before the High Court when summoned..."
Queen Mab loved her little shows of power, but he wouldn't give her courtiers the satisfaction of seeing him broken. He wasn't broken at all, in fact. The thin iron rings around his neck, wrists, and ankles had been easy to bear. The thin iron rings around his neck, wrists, and ankles had been easy to bear compared to the pain he had endured ten years ago. A simple spell, a girl, a babe, a wish spoken without a thought, his Labyrinth, and him… the Goblin King could bear the pain; he had born a heavier weight upon his soul long ago.
"He will be forever marked by his failure to uphold his office. His wounds will never heal, and they will serve to show others the consequences of his actions."
Any other Fae would have howled in pain. Jareth hadn't. Any other Fae would have been driven mad without their magic. Jareth hadn't… for the most part. For ten years, he bore the pain of muted magic and burning metal on his fair skin. He had struggled to maintain a tenuous link to the Labyrinth in spite of it all, but the salt and iron took its toll upon his magic. So, as he struggled in the darkness, the Goblin King used his time imprisoned in the salt cellars beneath Queen Mab's castle to think. He thought about his life before the Labyrinth, before becoming the Goblin King. He had thought about how his kingdom faired in his absence He had thought about his life after… the girl, about the year and a day he had spent searching for an answer. He had thought about how he had committed a taboo, how he had the power to do it, and how if the Queen truly knew what he had done and what he was capable of… she would've kept him locked up forever. Mostly, however, he had thought about how best to exact his pound of flesh from that petulant human creature who bested him.
"Today the Fairest releases the Goblin King from his punishment."
Right on cue, a guard approached with thick leather gloves to remove the iron holding Jareth subdued. The guard fumbled clumsily with the pins on the rings around Jareth's wrists. The Goblin King shifted only barely enough to assist in removing the rings around his ankles. Angry burns etched a clean line around the prideful Fae's limbs. Behind open fans and gloved hands, soft murmurs and gasps escaped the more naïve courtiers. Inwardly Jareth gave a bitter laugh. Long ago, he had seen worse on other prisoners. Comparatively, Queen Mab was a more benevolent ruler than the All-Father. He would have sniffed Jareth's actions out; He would've simply executed the Goblin King. It would have been a merciful death…
When the guard moved to release the iron ring around his neck, Jareth refused to meet the guard's eyes. He could sense the Fae man quaking. Was it out of fear of the iron? No, the guard wore gloves. Was it out of fear of him? Perhaps. The guard's hands trembled as he pulled the ring away, but he accidentally brushed the iron along Jareth's jawline for a moment. A small hiss escaped into the hushed silence of the hall, and the frightened guard paused. Jareth didn't move; he didn't react at all actually. He remained as still as a stone gargoyle. Some courtiers began to whisper once again. Carefully, the guard held the rings and stepped away from the Goblin King.
"He shall rise and give thanks to his monarch," announced the proclaimer from his perch at the Queen's left hand. A minute passed without the Goblin King rising to his feet. The Fairest shifted on her throne slightly, the soft rustle of her ivory skirts quieting her court. Her emerald eyes alighted on the new burn on Jareth's once flawless jawline. Then her gaze drifted over the stubborn Goblin King in his rags. With his eyes downcast, she could not properly gauge his state of mind. However, even covered in grime, he had the bearing of an arrogant man. Dark circles under his eyes from lack of sleep and the hollows in his cheeks did little to diminish his beauty as well. His wild mass of blond hair hung limply about his shoulders. The Goblin King looked broken… but Queen Mab knew better. A child of the All-Father to his core… she mused to herself. I may have underestimated you, Jareth. I shall have to keep an eye on you and your "kingdom" more closely.
Queen Mab rose from her throne ignoring the tittering of courtiers, and she descended the dais steps to stand in front of Jareth. She knew they were wondering why Jareth did not rise and thank the gracious monarch of the Fae for her kindness. What she had done, Mab knew, was no kindness. Salt and iron was a Fae's enemy. The fact Jareth had survived relatively unscathed… She knew, and that very thought made her prideful heart tremble in fear.
"Goblin King," breathed the Fairest as she reached out to gently lift his chin. His head moved under her feather-weight touch, but three hearts beat passed before he fixed his mismatched eyes upon her. She quelled her nerves and raised her chin ever so slightly. With her bare fingertips upon his skin, she searched his mind for an answer or a clue to his secret. He did not attempt to thwart or fight her intrusion; he did not reach out himself to plunder her own guarded mind. What are you hiding, brother? she asked him mentally. She received no answer, but he opened his mind to her. The Goblin King blinked those hideous eyes, and she found nothing – only a blank canvas, an empty room with white walls and a solitary chair. Queen Mab pulled her hand away to break the connection. You always knew how to hide your secrets from us. You are right not to trust us, brother.
"You may return to your kingdom," she said imperiously in spite of her inner turmoil. The Fairest hid her fear as Jareth's lips pulled back into a sinister smile. The slight canines gave him a predatory look unlike any other Fae except for one. Vaguely, he reminded her of the centuries past… when goblins and faeries were something to be feared by humanity, when the All-Father led the Hunt into the darkest of forests, when the All-Mother led danced naked upon the moonlit water.
Without a word, Queen Mab turned her back on Jareth. She felt the rush of his dark magic and heard the courtiers titter. She knew where the Goblin King kneeled there would be nothing. Only a wisp of black smoke curling and dissipating in the sunlight would remain. In the blink of an eye, he had vanished from the court without a word. Always so dramatic… she mused but a cold tendril of dark magic curled and tugged at the hem of her gown. She turned ever so slightly to eye the wisp before it faded into the ether. A warning, a premonition, a gut feeling of coming change gripped her, and she knew that something sinister and cruel had been unleashed upon the realm by her hand. Indeed, you are more a child of the All-Father than all of us combined…she thought turning back to stare at her throne, Father's throne once upon a time. My dear brother, what will you do now, I wonder? The hush of Rumor's whispered wings began to stir the air into a frantic frenzy as Queen Mab ascended her throne once more.
In a circle of earth ringed by a hedgerow, Jareth took a deep breath. He shivered violently feeling his magic plummet to a dangerously low level. Vanishing had taken too much out of him, too much he didn't have. Sinking to his knees, he felt hot tears prick at the corners of his eyes. So vulnerable, so weak, so powerless, he thought madly and he growled unconsciously. Then he smelled it. He closed his eyes as something dark and ancient wrapped about him, something warm and knowing. He smelled starlight, earth, flora, stone, and magic. His magic. He felt the Labyrinth respond to his mental tug of urgency for aid. His body took in a ragged breath as he let his mental barriers drop. He was home. He was safe. He was becoming partially whole again.
Opening his eyes, he let the pitiful tears fall to the ground. He hesitated for the briefest of moments before his trembling fingers touched the damp earth. With a weak smile, he heard and felt the Heart of the Labyrinth beneath him. That slow and steady plus like the beating of his own rapid heart, that song of old that sang his name and made his blood dance – he listened and reveled in the feeling. This was as close to becoming whole as he would allow himself. Another ragged breath was drawn out of his lungs. The magic coiled around him and seeped back into his being. His eyelids fluttered as the ancient magic rekindled the waning light within him. Slowly his heartbeat became the percussive beat to the Labyrinth's harmonious melody of power.
Digging his hands deeper into the wet earth, Jareth reached out mentally to touch his kingdom and assess the damage done by his absence. Much had changed on the outer reaches, but the core of his kingdom and castle had remained untouched. He would have to undo what that fool of a Fae ambassador had done, but thankfully the idiot had left the Labyrinth relatively alone. Changes would have to be made in time – new walls, new traps, and new terrors. The outer reaches of his kingdom would have to be assessed. The goblins… well, Jareth let a smirk grace his thin lips. He would grant them a boon if they had given the Fae ambassador a Hell of a time. All would be well if…
Taking a deep breath, he reached deeper for the dark secret he kept buried in the Heart of the Labyrinth. Something familiar yet intangible responded faintly through the iron cell buried beneath him. Like a whisper or a shudder, it called out in his voice. He shuddered tasting the iron and pulled away without responding to the question. It's still safe… he thought with an audible sigh of relief. He ran a dirty hand through his blond hair and chuckled. Of course, it's still safe. Younger sister, you never were one to seek out the why's and how's.
Jareth the Goblin King pulled his hands out of the wet earth completely and brushed his shirt sleeve against his now-dry eyes. The last connections between himself, his kingdom, and the Labyrinth were complete. He rocked back onto his heels and stared at the night sky over head. How he had missed that sky over his head. The vast expanse of starlight promised freedom and the unknown. Since his earliest days of traveling the kingdoms and lands of the Underground, the night sky had been a comforting presence. He closed his eyes feeling the cold moonlight and warm summer wind dance across his gaunt face.
"You have returned," a gravely, ancient voice said from the shadows of the hedges. Its sonorous tone struck Jareth to his core, and he suppressed a shudder. Reluctantly, he opened his eyes. With a slight tilt of his head, he let his gaze fall upon the physical manifestation of the Labyrinth attempting to pull itself out of the bushes. The ancient magical creature jerked once, twice, thrice, as it formed its human shape out of wet earth, sticky sap, and boxwood. Shakily, Jareth rose to his feet to greet the ancient creature. While the Labyrinth did not care or know about courtly protocol, the Goblin King refused to meet the creature while on his knees in mud.
Long ago, he had sought to escape the machinations of the court of his father and to find answers to his questions (and a bit of mischief). He had not set out to create a kingdom connected to the human world, but through a series of events (painful and regretful), he had. He had also ended up as the leader of a mischievous band of goblins. They entertained him; he protected them. It was a mutual deal of appreciation and need on various levels. So, he had decided to provide them with a purpose and a place to call their own.
In his travels, he had searched throughout the Under Ground for an acceptable place to claim as his. Then one day he happened upon a well, of sorts, filled with an ancient magic slumbering deep in the earth far from his father's iron hand. After some discussion, the ancient magic agreed to be shaped into the Labyrinth, to protect the land, and to assist the young Fae in creating a kingdom. Together they had formed a link – the ancient elemental power and Jareth – and very few knew of this. The bond allowed for Jareth to create his kingdom and its maze, protect the goblins, and become a formidable (albeit detested) Fae. The Labyrinth came into being and the young Fae became King.
"We have done what we can," the creature without eyes or mouth began.
"You have done well," he stated with a nod of agreement. In his absence, the Labyrinth could only do so much to keep the kingdom from falling apart. Since Jareth had no heir, all administrative decisions were completed by one competent court goblin and Queen Mab's appointed "ambassador." He hoped the city guards had thrown the fop into a bog… at least once a year.
"We remain incomplete." The comment drew Jareth out of his reverie of imagining a flamboyantly dressed Fae fop drowning in a bog and screeching for his Queen.
"What would you have me do?" he asked quietly. The creature paused as if unsure of something. Made from twisted earth and plant, the Labyrinth unfurled its hands into a gesture of supplication.
"Undo what has been done and return our magic."
"I cannot undo what has been done," Jareth replied with a scowl. "And what magic do you speak of?"
The Labyrinth shook its head slowly.
"We want back the magic you gave her."
The Labyrinth felt the Goblin King's rage swell into a white hot flame. The physical manifestation recoiled from the snarling Fae, its Lord, Protector, and Shaper. It also sensed the error of its mere mention of the human girl, the Champion of the Labyrinth, the One Who Defeated and Humiliated the Goblin King, the Sarah. The mortal who had ensnared his heart and made him feel the weight of love. She would be his undoing if things were not made right, or so the Labyrinth knew. Patiently, it watched the white glow of Fae magic shining from Jareth's bare hands. Faint sparks fell from his knuckles. Yet the elemental had had no choice. There was more to say. It waited patiently for Jareth's rage to settle into a smoldering anger. He knew his protector would not harm it heedlessly. Once the Goblin King had spent his anger, the Labyrinth tilted its head as if to ask a question.
"Eleven years ago, you willingly let her spoken words bind you. You willingly gave her a part of us, a gift of magic, a lover's token. We do not wish for-"
"I don't care what you wish for!" Jareth shouted. His eyes flashed in the darkness. "I cannot reorder time to undo what happened so many years ago. I cannot simply ask her to return our magic. What has been done and said cannot be changed."
The Labyrinth shook its head again. "She must willingly return what has been freely given or we will remain incomplete forever."
Jareth snarled. "Freely?! She took it from us. Then she used it against us. You have no power over me!" He spat on the ground as if the sentence tasted horrible. "The stubborn child spurned us. She threw our gifts into the dust, and we were left to rot in a cell of iron and salt."
Jareth approached the physical manifestation of the Labyrinth, and it attempted not to flinch out of instinct. In contrast to his words and emotions, Jareth gently raised the Labyrinth's blank visage of foliage upward. His ragged clothes had been replaced by his black battle armor and a swirling cape of starlight. Some of the fire had returned to his being and he seemed less haggard than mere moments before. The Goblin King had returned.
"I will make her undo what has been done to me… and I will make her suffer as I have. I will make her return our magic. I will make her beg me to take it," he breathed with a wolfish smile of satisfaction. "And then I will rip out her heart."
Only a rustle of leaves as the manifestation sunk into the hedgerow filled the night air. It could not dissuade its Lord from such distract measures tonight. The Labyrinth had spent too much magic already to continue to argue. Yet it had one last important thing to say. "Undo what has been done by the last stroke of the thirteenth hour on the anniversary of that day in two years. We must be complete once more by that hour, or the magic will be lost forever."
The Goblin King let the ancient magic return to its slumber. He clenched his dirty, bare hands, but a smile crept onto his dry lips. He had two years to regain all of his magical abilities. Two years to track down Sarah. Two years to observe and learn about his enemy… and use whatever devious means he could to make her return to the Labyrinth.
[A/N: Insert dramatic music here. Angry Jareth is vengeful with a dash of glittery fury. What will he do, I wonder? On a lighter note, the concept of Jareth being linked magically to his creation seems to be a recurring theme in fanfics. Whether or not Archaia's prequel (due out in April 2013) explores this idea will be interesting to see. Edited & updated 4/17/13. Edited 9/9/13]