I do not own any part of the Labyrinth or Jim Henson's work.
"You are impeccably attentive today, if I may say so, Majesty."
Jareth scowled at his advisor, Caldo, who had decided today of all days that Jareth needed to review and sign off on the ledger off exports to the neighboring city of Neuro. The stack sat several inches tall on his desk and much to his annoyance Caldo had insisted on rattling through every line of it as Jareth sat spinning crystals about in his hand.
"I have you for a reason, Caldo. So that I do not need to be involved in every mundane detail that pertains to my kingdom running efficiently. Am I wrong in believing you to be competent enough to manage such minuscule tasks as this?"
Caldo gave him a shrewd stare. "Not at all, Majesty. But you have become rather withdrawn from nearly all your duties these past few days, let alone these past years, and, if I may be so bold to point out, your kingdom is suffering from it. I simply thought it would do well to keep you involved."
Jareth whisked away the crystals in his hand and glared at Caldo then. "Need I remind you the penalty for speaking out of line to your king?"
Caldo straightened uncomfortably. "I simply wish to make you aware…"
"Do you think I am not aware?" Jareth snapped leaning menacingly over the desk between them. "I have ruled this kingdom for over three hundred years, and even in its current suffering state it is still bountiful compared to the barren wasteland it was before I was crowned."
"I did not mean to insult you, my liege. But I have kept my lips sealed for some time now and I simply wish to understand what it is you think to gain from the damage inflicted on the Labyrinth and in turn your own kingdom?"
"I could have you put to death for your questioning my intentions, Caldo." He glared at the man, his irritation filling the room. "But if it will make your obnoxious quibbles end, then I will inform you the Labyrinth had a runner this morning. And the child will lose."
Jareth lounged back in his chair, throwing a leg casually over the arm as he procured another crystal and stared into it. Caldo gaped at him for several moments before responding.
"May I ask why the sudden change of heart?"
"No."
Caldo huffed in irritation. "My Lord, I cannot do all you ask of me if you force me to do so blind. I did not question you when you chose to deny your rightful duty to the Labyrinth in the first place, but you must see that your course of action since that girl stepped foot here has been nothing but irrational."
Jareth's eyes gave him another warning, causing the man to become even more fidgety.
"I am your King. I do not explain myself or my actions to you, Caldo. You would do well to remember that, lest your tongue get you into trouble. Now, leave me already. I am expecting a visitor shortly."
Jareth stood and turned from him dismissively as he stepped toward the bar stool nearby and poured himself a glass of aged brandy from a crystal decanter.
"As you wish, my Lord." Caldo's words were clipped as he gathered up the piles of paperwork from the desk. He did a double take, staring at the desk oddly before glancing back up at his King. "Is this a new desk? I did not know you had commissioned a new one."
"I shattered the last one," Jareth replied casually, sipping on his drink.
"Ah… I see," Caldo's brows furrowed with confusion. "I'll see to it these are completed by the morrow." He bowed his head before exiting the room.
Jareth smirked at the apparent dismay radiating off the man. He did enjoy instilling fear in the man. He did not rule the largest kingdom, nor house the greatest amount of magic, by not having a plan up his sleeve at all times. Despite how well his precious Sarah was at evading those plans, he thought dryly.
Jareth glanced at the clock then as it struck the thirteenth hour. He stared back into his crystal and watched as a boy, roughly twelve years old, raced through a layer of the Labyrinth, unaware yet that his time had ended. It didn't take more than a second for the Labyrinth to reap its reward. A ghost like presence appeared in front of the child, halting him in his tracks. The boy suddenly staggered to his knees, the Spirit of the Labyrinth reaching out its dark hand until it penetrated the boy's chest and grasped hold of what it wanted from him. The soul of the child separated from his being and the child cried out in agony as the Spirit consumed it. Jareth grew disgusted as he watched, as he always did. The boy disappeared then, returned to his home Aboveground, where he would live without memory of his time in the Labyrinth or the baby sister he had wished away, and shy one mortal soul. The babe had already been sent to its adoptive Fae family outside the Goblin City where it would be cared for.
Jareth sat again, patiently awaiting his guest to make an appearance before him. The Spirit rose in its ghost like form in the darkest corner of his study mere moments later, as he knew it would. It stared at him with hollow, eyeless pits. It appeared as a dark grey mist that constantly shifted and swirled as it took the shape of a maiden, minus the features of a face. It radiated a cold wariness as it watched him from its corner. He smirked knowingly at it, waiting for it to speak.
"Am I to believe you have given up your fruitless efforts to destroy me, my Lord?"
"Come now, Spirit. I never intended to destroy you. Punish you, yes. Weaken you, absolutely. But you were never in any real danger."
The mist shivered as though flustered at his casual remark, though it kept its tone level, that siren voice humming almost sweetly. "What, then, has changed your mind, Majesty?"
Jareth gave it an arrogant smirk as he stood and poured another glass of brandy.
"I no longer have a need to punish you. Our rapport will continue as it always has. You will be good as new in no time."
It eyed him, and he could feel its perplexed eye sockets burning holes in his back. He turned back toward the Spirit and cocked his head, enjoying the befuddlement it was experiencing.
"What have you done?" it asked him slowly, moving slightly closer.
"I have simply have no need for your willing compliance anymore, Spirit."
The being appeared to waiver then, its misty form distorting, fear and anger suddenly bursting from it.
"I do not feel her presence here. You do not have her." it hissed.
"Always so astute, aren't you? While you are correct, I know exactly where she is. In fact, I'm surprised you couldn't sense her so close by."
Jareth smiled cruelly as the being stiffened, obviously feeling around for Sarah's presence. The moment it began to rattle like a snake in anger he laughed. The being shook violently for several long seconds before containing itself, absorbing its energy back within itself and bottling it all up till Jareth could no longer sense it at all.
"I will have no ruler, Jareth. I am bound to you through this land, and I will be continue to make your walls strong as is my duty. But I must warn you, Majesty. If you are honest in your desire to keep the champion, you would be wise to keep her far from me." Its tone was frigid, and its threat clear.
"I tolerate you and your dark rituals, Spirit, for the sake of my kingdom. But if you harm one of my subjects, you will be in contempt of your own oath to this kingdom. I would be well within my rights as King to have you magically bound to that cursed well you call home," he growled.
The Spirit laughed loudly. "She is not your subject, Jareth. No more than I am," its voice was soft as though amused. "If that is how you plan to protect her, you have already lost."
The Spirit began to dissipate as though to leave. Jareth held up a hand, the mist suddenly halting entirely. The Spirit glared at him in shock but remained unmoving. Jareth stepped toward it slowly, his eyes laced with a dark intensity as he stared into the soulless creature.
"Let me make myself perfectly clear," his voice was dark as he came face to face with the Spirit as it fought viciously against his hold on it, clearly rattled that he was able to keep it frozen in such a state as he had never done so before. "I have been tolerant of you, out of respect to the crown I uphold. But," Jareth ran a hand down the wispy shape of the beings face before clutching its chin with a forceful grip, "I can be cruel."
His magical hold on the creature tightened, giving it the sense of being crushed beneath the weight of his binding grip. He glared down at it as fear radiated off of the Spirit. With a disgusted scowl he released it and the Spirit immediately dissipated from the room, retreating to the heart of the Labyrinth.
Jareth finished his drink, enjoying the burn as he wrangled the growing rage in him. He had needed to make his intentions clear with the Spirit. He was not the same young prince who had taken the crown of the Goblin City. He was older, wiser, darker. His magical capabilities had grown beyond even his own comprehension in the last century. He had an inkling as to why, but he would divulge in that set of questions once he had retrieved his champion from her despicable situation. He chuckled darkly, all too eager for the ball that evening. Cruex was surely enigmatic over the situation he presumed he had placed Jareth in, though Jareth was less than concerned. It was time his cousin learned what happened to those who threatened the Goblin King and that which belonged to him.
"You have got to be kidding me."
Sarah fumed as she stared at the attire Annalise had brought her for the evening.
"His Majesty insisted, miss Sarah. He will be quite unpleasant if you resist."
"Like I care! I'm not walking out there in this!"
Annalise fidgeted with the leather collar around her neck. She was equally abashed by the attire the King had sent for her to dress Sarah in. It was custom that the consorts wore revealing dresses and leather collars to mark their roles, but Sarah's outfit was hardly more than undergarments and the girl could barely look at her without blushing.
Sarah stood in front of her mirror, a horrified scowl on her face as she observed herself. Cruex had sent her a red velvet crop top with long fitted sleeves and a lace up front, a very short matching skirt that barely covered her ass and a gold chain to adorn her waist.
"He's trying to humiliate me," she muttered in defeat.
"I did warn you that he was still foul over your intrusion the other day," Annalise chided.
Sarah just groaned as Annalise continued helping her with her hair and make-up. She was nearly healed from her last encounter with Cruex, the horrifying bruising and swelling around her chin and neck now much fainter. She seemed to heal faster as an immortal now that she was in the Underground and well fed on Fae food, but she was terrified of the thought of enduring that pain again even if it meant she had to show up to a room full of people in this ridiculous ensemble. She'd spent an entire lifetime alone focused solely on self-preservation. In less than forty-eight hours of being brought back to life in a sense by a silly plum she had reverted back to an impulsive eighteen year old girl. These ridiculous mood swings and outbursts had to stop before she got herself in even further trouble. She was in better control now that she had had time to adjust to it all, but she'd been racked with varying degrees of anxiety, anger, fear and guilt over the last three days.
"I think I can cover up most of the bruising on your cheek, but I'm afraid your neck is still too purple to hide," Annalise sighed apologetically. "If I had a bit of magic I could use glamour to hide it, sadly only the Fae have those gifts."
"Really? Just the Fae can wield magic?" Sarah asked, her curiosity piqued. She had wondered this so many times in her time in the Aboveground.
"From my experience. I mean there are witches of course, and other creatures that have varying levels of magic. The Fae tend to be the more powerful ones though. That's why they rule the lands, afterall."
Sarah mulled that over for a few moments as Annalise continued to curl her hair.
"What about someone without magic that has some sort of tie to an immortal entity? Would that person be able to channel some of that magic?"
Annalise haulted in her motions and looked up curiously into the mirror at Sarah. "I'm not sure. Why do you ask?"
"Just curious," she shrugged. Sarah stared at Annalise's work and was surprised that she could not see a speck of the bruising on her cheek, but grimaced as her fingers traced along the lines of purple still on her neck. At least she could speak easily again, that first day it had been nearly impossible.
"Oh, I forgot your collar! I'll be right back," Annalise exclaimed before running out of the room.
Sarah barely noticed her leave. She was still staring intently on the bruises on her neck. She traced her index finger lightly over them, trying to imagine clear skin in place of the marks. She'd always wondered if she could tap into the Labyrinth's magic, after all it had snatched away her immortality. They were connected in some way. She'd always mused she couldn't tap into it before due to being in the Aboveground. But now that she was down here… Maybe she could find that well of magic and use it? Sarah concentrated on bruises, trying to imagine soft, unmarred pale skin instead. Nothing happened. Sarah furrowed her brows in determination, trying to find any sense of magic that may be lingering within her. A light warmth sparked in her palm, almost jolting her from her trance-like stare but she managed to remain focused as the spark grew more noticeable. Sarah gasped as the bruising on her neck began to disappear. The warm sensation in her hand fizzled out as the last of the marks blended into perfectly clear skin. She couldn't believe it. It had worked? Had she just healed herself? Sarah poked at the spots where she'd been bruised and winced. Not healed, but definitely hidden. So she could channel a bit of magic after all. Sarah felt excitement like nothing before. This was exhilarating, the knowledge liberating. She had some kind of protection now. Maybe not much, but she was going to find out just how far she could take this. If she could spare herself, and Jareth, from whatever Cruex had in store, she was determined she would do just that.
Annalise busted through the door then, hurrying over to Sarah and immediately trying to latch the horrid collar around her neck.
"Oh! Did you put more makeup on? I can't even see it anymore!" Annalise smiled brightly as she stepped back.
"Yea, just a bit," Sarah couldn't help the massive grin on her face, which earned a peculiar stare from Annalise, but she stood then before the girl could ask any more questions.
"I think I'm as ready as ever."
"Good. We really should be going now, his Majesty demanded I bring you to him before the party begins," Annalise's smile faltered a bit as she turned and led Sarah by the hand out of the room.
Annalise led them through hall after hall until they finally stopped once again in front of the King's parlor room. A wave of fear filled her as Annalise opened the door and stepped in, pulling Sarah along behind her. Cruex was laughing animatedly with another Fae man, a tall brunette, the two dressed head to toe in dark black attire and silver adornments. When the two entered, Cruex turned and smiled like a crocodile at the site of them.
"Well don't you look absolutely edible in that outfit," he mused as he stared at Sarah. The man next to him just sneered at her.
"Majesty," Annalise curtsied and bowed her head. She nudged Sarah to do the same, but she refused, raising her chin defiantly instead.
"Bow to your King, wench," the man beside him snarled.
Cruex raised his hand to him. "I did warn you, Lars. This one has some fire in her. All the more fun, though."
Cruex stepped toward them and his eyes traced down her face and neck, his eyebrow raising. "I see you healed quite quickly. Perhaps I'll have to try harder next time for a longer lasting effect." He winked then, and Sarah felt her stomach roll in disgust.
Cruex took Sarah by the elbow roughly then and escorted her out of the room, with Lars and Annalise close behind. They arrived moments later, and Sarah could feel her nerves kicking in even as she held herself high next to Cruex. The ballroom was crowded with the Stone City court members. Sarah's eyes went wide as she looked around and observed the men and women dancing and laughing in their fancy gowns and suits, imbibing on drinks and being rather handsy with one another. She could feel the stares on her exposed skin and wanted to hide herself from them but Cruex kept her arm bound tightly against his side.
Cruex led her to his throne where he gestured for her to sit on the floor next to him. She stared daggers at him as she took her place, eyeing the scene around them. It looked like an underground sex club in the making. The guests were all adorned in dark, rich colors, many of them were carrying whips and chains, some of them leading around a consort on a leash by the collars they had adorned, loud deranged laughs cutting through the air like razors to her ears. Sarah felt sick as she watched the events unfold before her.
The music was an eery, ethereal tune that played on and on. The Fae were a mesmerizing species, their movements fluid and graceful just like she remembered from her peach dream. But it descended into debauchery quite quickly. There was groping, teasing, lashing in every corner of the room. Some even undressing and performing acts upon each other without even the slightest care at the room full of people around them. Sarah's cheeks were burning red when she caught the stare of Annalise who was dancing with a blonde Fae man in the center of the room. She looked almost relieved to see Sarah sitting there. The girl disappeared into the crowd seconds later. Sarah's eyes kept wondering, wondering if she would see Jareth there. She grew sick at the thought of him attending such an event. Was this how all Fae courts interacted? This wasn't how her peach dream had gone though. Sarah tried to squander the feelings that arose at the thought of Jareth being anything like these Fae. She found herself feeling relieved when she couldn't spot him. Even if it meant she was stuck here, she couldn't stomach the thought of him associating with these monsters. Additionally, she couldn't bear the thought of Jareth being coerced into giving Cruex anything. He was sick and demented. She cringed to think of what he would do with any more power than what he presently had.
Someone was suddenly standing right behind her and she jerked back to see Lars hovering over her. His long brown hair encased a sadistic grin as he glared down at her. His features appeared more aged up close than the others and she guess he looked ten years Cruex's senior.
"May I, my Lord?"
Cruex kicked Sarah so that she stood.
"Enjoy," he chuckled as Lars gripped her by the arm and began pulling her away from the crowd. Her nerves were on edge as he led her down a hallway with just a few scattered guests in it.
"Where are we going?" she asked angrily as he jerked her elbow forward to follow him.
"You'll see."
They came upon a hall of open rooms. Each one they passed was just three walls with an open front, one room after another of nothing but a well decorated room and a single bed. There were already multitudes of Fae filling them, some rooms with as many as six individuals partaking in sexual acts. Sarah gaped as they passed them by, she'd never seen anything like this. When they came to an empty room Sarah immediately dug in her heels.
"Oh, hell no," she snapped as she clawed at his hand still clutching her arm. He clamped down and Sarah cried out in pain. He jerked her forward and forcefully threw her on the bed, looming over her with a twisted scowl.
"I've been instructed to make tonight as unenjoyable as possible for you," he went to grab her wrists but Sarah kicked out sharply hitting him straight in the groin.
He grunted in pain and slapped her across the face hard. Sarah's vision went blank, pain shooting through her head. While she was disoriented from it he clasped her wrists and she felt something cold clamp down on her. She glanced up as her vision cleared and saw the metal cuffs that now held her down to the bed by a chain. She jerked at them furiously, her body filling with panic. Lars stared down at her in excitement, enjoying watching her fight against the restraints.
He moved around the bed to a chest of drawers that sat next to the bed. He opened the top drawer and pulled a small leather whip from it. He placed that on top the chest and moved through the other objects within it as Sarah watched helplessly. A few more objects came out that made her fill with dread; large metal clamps, a gag, and a wooden paddle with metal rounded studs on one side. He then pulled out a small blade that curled at the tip and sparkled like a crystal. His grin widened as he turned back to Sarah.
"Do you know what this is?" he asked as he moved toward the bed while waving the blade in the air at her.
Sarah scrambled as far to the edge away from him as her restraints would let her.
"It's a blade cut from the stone of Hesifus. It's a quite rare stone that you can only find in the darkest, deepest caverns of this mountain." Lars grabbed Sarah by the ankle and pulled her back to the center of the bed where he straddled her, pinning her down with his knees on either side of her hips. She bucked wildly but he was to strong.
"It's known for its beauty, they make jewelry out of it most often. But it makes a beautiful weapon as well, don't you think?" He traced the blade down from the swell of her breasts to her belly, applying just enough pressure to make the skin rise in a red and irritated trail behind it. "But I think it's abilities for torture are highly undervalued. You see, when the crystal comes into contact with the precious fluids under your flesh," Lars hand dipped just so, causing the blade to nick her skin at the hollow of her hip, droplets of blood forming, "It can cause an excruciating sensation akin to being set on fire."
Sarah could already feel the burning sensation where he nicked her growing, it crept up her veins and intensified like a roaring flame was engulfing her inch by inch. She cried out from the pain of it, sweat forming on her skin as Lars nicked her again on the opposite side, the fire-like pain erupting down her other side as she kicked and twisted beneath him.
Lars moved the blade up further, tracing the laces of her shirt with the tip till he reached the top lace. He flicked the blade, cutting one string at a time.
Sarah felt like she would drown beneath the pain of the crystal's poison in her blood. She could hardly see past the pain but she could feel him as he was slowly shredding her top. She tried to find that link between her and the Labyrinth even as her mind splintered in pain. The blistering heat was unbearable now, but she fought through it, her mind feeling around for any trace of magic that could help her. An icy sensation began to pool in her chest even as her panic and pain seemed as though it would burst from her as she tried to stay coherent. Lars hand ran down her stomach, passing her navel and dipping lower as if he were about to grope at her. Sarah snapped. The iciness in her chest erupted like a wave pouring out of her, the sense to rid herself of the pain and Lars on top of her suddenly a physical burst of energy from within her. Her eyes snapped open as the sensation of icy water doused her veins relieving her of the pain that had been there seconds before and just in time to see Lars being tossed across the hall from her, causing other Fae to stop what they were doing and stare in at her.
Sarah had no idea what had just happened. How had she done that? Did she do that? Panic set back in when Lars stood, popping his neck in irritation and giving her a look that said she was in serious trouble now. She struggled against her restraints again but only succeeded in bruising her wrists. She cried out in fear and frustration as Lars was joined by two other Fae men as he re-entered the room. He grabbed the whip off the chest while the other two grasped her ankles as she kicked ferociously at them.
"I'm going to enjoy hearing you scream," Lars chuckled cruelly as he gripped the leather whip in his palm tightly.
Sarah closed her eyes tightly, bracing for the pain. It never came. She stayed motionless, holding her breathe for several long seconds before finally cracking her eyes open to find two mismatched eyes staring back at her. She could have cried in relief if it weren't for the anger radiating from them.