A/N: I is v. sorry for delay - exam stress and madness has been ensuing. IT SUCKS! Consequently this chapter isn't as long -and most probably makes no sense- but lets think of it as an interlude - or a stress reliever if you will!. Truly am sorry if it sucks!!
Chapter 4: Of Bedlam and Headaches.
The sun rose in a blaze of orange and gold, rising from the east and chasing away the remnants of the night like a delivering Messiah. The glow swept across the labyrinth, covering the land in a gentle caress, reaching into even the darkest recesses with tender yellow fingers and carefully waking the sleeping creatures within. The entire land rejoiced in the dawning of the new day. The sun, exhilarated after a night of rest, swooped higher and higher, dancing merrily across tree-tops and skimming over lakes in glittering, twinkling waves, before approaching the castle in the centre of the goblin city.
Emboldened, the light intensified, enveloping the stone edifice in a golden embrace, tinting the granite with glints of red and gold and blazing through the myriads of windows to highlight the opulent chambers within. Presently, the glow reached the tinted windows of the topmost tower in the west wing. Heavy velvet curtains obscured the room's interior from the light, but it was not to be deterred. Sneaking in through a partial gap in the thick curtains, the glow tentatively swept across the stone floor, bathing the gloom in a cheerful, sunny wash. Meeting no resistance, it surged, gleefully venturing further and further into the murky darkness, before…..
"I CAN'T SLEEP IN THIS LIGHT," a voice roared suddenly.
Before the sunlight could react, a crystal ball had been flung, almost violently (and most definitely, shakily), at the window.
Abruptly the light recoiled, swooping back faster than it could say, "huh…?"
An invisible force, it seemed, was pushing it back towards the east, almost as if it was on fast rewind.
Within chambers opulent the highlight to windows of…...Gold and orange of blaze a in rose sun the….
The entire labyrinth was bathed in pre-dawn darkness within minutes, reversing a task which had taken the sun roughly an hour and a half to accomplish. Thoroughly disgruntled, the sun sank back into its resting place, swearing revenge as soon as it could figure out how and wondering if it should have joined a workers trade-union.
The sudden absence of "morning" in the labyrinth, was to have numerous, directly applicable, consequences. Riots broke out in various goblins streets, tires were set ablaze and shop windows were broken into. Goblins of all shapes and sizes ran panicked: screaming in terror and wailing about prophetic symbologies. A state of natural emergency was declared by the towns mayor as he was tied to a flagpole and hoisted up, his breeches fluttering merrily in the breeze.
And deep in the labyrinth an ominous, squelch, squelch, squelch, was heard. An indistinct shape emerged from the blackness, bringing with it a deadly, poisonous odour. The being trudged forward menacingly, breathing in and out with a great rickety breath, mumbling two words over and over:
"G.L.P. Forever…"
There was a head.
In the head there was an ache.
A big ache.
A numbing ache.
An ache that surpassed- all- other- aches- that- had- ever- ached- a head before.
The ache throbbed – and the mindless lumps of flesh - attached to the head with the ache – flinched, involuntarily.
NNNGHHhhhh, said a muffled voice, from somewhere within the head.
Throb, went the ache. Ache, went the head.
The cycle continued for quite some time, until the mindless lumps of flesh – attached to head, that had the ache that throbbed, that – flinched more aggressively than before, and a hand emerged, shooting upwards, before flapping down jerkily, like an oxygen deprived fish. The hand landed on something warm, soft – slightly tubula--
"ACK" said a voice, presently followed by a pair of horrified green eyes. Slowly the eyes travelled to where the hand was lying, before travelling upwards, then flicking back towards the hand. Then up, then down, up, down, up down, up-
"You know" a little voice - inside the head that ached- said matter-of-factly, "If you just moved the hand, rather than flicking the eyes up and down, it might be more productive."
"Nnnghghh" the green-eyed face said.
"Why, one would almost think you like it there…"
"ACK" said the voice, jerking the hand back violently before rolling of the bed in a ferocious (and rather thoughtless) bid to escape.
Throb, went the ache. Ache, went the head.
Jareth woke groggily, and groaned.
It was the only thing he felt capable doing in his present condition. For the first time in his life he felt every day of the two thousand and X amount of years he had lived. And dear God, it felt bad. Rising gracelessly from his bed, Jareth flicked a hand at the heavy velvet drapes lining his large bay windows. Placing a hand over his sleep-encrusted eyes, Jareth braced himself for a blast of golden light.
None came.
Slightly confused – his head hurt too much to do too much thinking- he peeked carefully out through a gap in his hands. There was no sun. "What in the..?"
Walking slowly – teetering, ever so slightly- the goblin king stumbled over to the window that looked out over the goblin city, and swore.
Darkness bathed the labyrinth in an ominous violet-blue hue in the natural tints of deepest, darkest night. But the city – the entire city was ablaze. Fires streaked across the rooftops, dancing merrily as orange tendrils stalked and devoured everything in their path. Anarchy reigned.
It was like a Fiery Christmas party gone wrong.
It was complete and utter pandemonium.
And high above the city ,a lone goblin fluttered merrilly in the smoggy breeze.
Whirling around swiftly (regretting it almost instantaneously) Jareth half ran – half swooped- out of his chambers, before tripping over a prostrate form in his path and bouncing, ever so majestically, across the floor. Trying to summon a measure of calm that he was not-so-famously known for, Jareth turned to see Sarah lying sprawled on his bedroom floor.
Of course, he thought, last night: drinking, Sarah, tequila, bedlam.
OF BLOODY COURSE.
The little trip across his floor however, served to remind him, that perhaps, just perhaps, he had something to do with the current state of darkness, and with an elegant swoop (as can be managed, when lying crumpled on the floor), the Goblin King, bid the sun anew and declared it day, in his own, rather uniquely glitter-ati way.
Casually rising from the floor, Jareth strolled, devil-may-care, into the stone corridor leading to the kitchens. Hoping, ever so valiantly feigning, normalcy in his actions. With every step (that didn't make him want to hurl) Jareth strode powerfully forwards. Hangovers be damned, he thought gloriously - didn't affect him, he was far too formidable for something as petty to affect him!
Tra la la la, his inner voice sang smugly – strut-strut, went his walk.
Striding towards the kitchen door, Jareth pushed it open authoritatively and -
Found himself, rather off-balance, in the Escher room.
Tra-la… Crap, went his inner voice.
A few hours later….
Sarah woke to find herself on something very cold, and very hard. Light was shining brazenly through open curtains and her head throbbed violently. Clutching the nearby desk for support, she rose tentively, shooting curses to all alcohol, anywhere, everywhere.
Never more, she swore, she was officially a tee-totaler –
her inner voice sniggered –
Well for today anyway.
It was a few minutes before she realised the room she was standing in, wasn't her own. She was in the labyrinth.
"Aw smuck" she said.
She couldn't remember anything from last night. Anything. She hoped, really, really, really, hoped, Jareth hadn't poofed her to the underground in front of Chad. That would make for some serious explaining on Monday morning. Wondering where Jareth was, and why on earth (or underground) he hadn't placed her in her own labyrinth-ian chambers, Sarah made her way groggily to her washroom. A steamy shower, several cups of coffee, and one panadol later, Sarah felt marginally better. She still hadn't seen Jareth though, apparently no one had seen him all morning.
Munching the last of her toast, Sarah made her way out to the courtyard, in search of Jareth. An acrid smell of burning hung in the morning air, and trying not to gag, Sarah wandered the paved yard. But it was to no avail. The goblin-king was nowhere to be found - But -
The history of the world describes scores of great discoveries that were made truly by accident. Serendipitous events that changed the course of life instantly: Newton with his apple, the cure for smallpox and (strangely enough) the invention of popsicles. Great things were awarded to those that seek and today was no exception. For Sarah was seeking, and there, in a corner, bathed in swirling shadows, Sarah found something.
Something tall and imposing.
Something that made her lips twitch, and her eyes narrow in mirth.
A teeny, tiny little plan was formed – and the Goblin King was nowhere to be found.
