Author's Note: I'm back after a very long hiatus. Special thanks to Carrie (Sorry, don't know your username!) who harassed me via email to finish this story. I feel special and loved. And more special thanks to Beth, who just plain harasses me in general. I owe her more stories *shifty eyes* Must. Hide.

Disclaimer: *digs through purse* I own an iPod, a canister of lip balm, a pen with no cap, a receipt from Target, thirty-five cents, a band-aid, four paperclips, and a nail file. I do not own Jareth. Although, I'd happily trade all of the aforementioned items for him. Except maybe the iPod. I need that.


"You have done nothing, nothing to further our plans." the man hissed.

"I have made better plans." the girl countered.

"It is not your place to do so."

"Your plans were ill-laid and poorly thought out."

"How dare you? It is your duty to do what you can to further the position of this family. What you are doing... it will get us nowhere. That mortal-reared fool is-"

"Infinintely more powerful than you could ever imagine."

"And so? What is power without authority?"

The girl laughed, high and melodic. "Power makes authority. The land recognizes him as king already. The people would easily follow suit given the opportunity."

"And how do you suggest we remove the king and his son from this equation?" the man asked snidely.

"The Midsummer celebration draws near."

"And so?"

"The Games can be dangerous."


Jareth had been buried in the labyrinth for hours.

Or days. he thought. Time had ceased to exist to him. He though, fleetingly, that he'd gone mad.

But what is madness? I am simply keeping busy.

The labyrinth was coming along fabulously. The tall, leafy walls moved and shifted, so that the actual shape of the maze was impossible to determine. Jareth knew, of course. But then, he had made it.

The bright sun burned orange in the sky, signaling the approaching night. Jareth debated whether or not he should leave. True, it would be wise to rest. It was never a good idea to overuse one's magic. However, the tell-tale ache in the joints of his fingers was absent. He could go on for hours more, weaving countless threads of complex enchantments and lapping up the silence and calm.

"I will not." Jareth affirmed. "Khormich can have his turn."

He hadn't seen his cousin in days. Not since they'd argued. Not since...

Jareth refused to think about the child.

Abruptly he relocated himself to the entrance of the labyrinth, making a mental note to lay an enchantment later that prevented such a thing from happening during the actual contest.

He was surprised to see Morihana sitting on the low, gray-stone garden wall. He opted to remain silent, waiting for her to speak.

"I haven't seen you since... in days." she amended tactfully. "I had remembered that you still owed me a walk through the kings private gardens. But if you're too tired, don't strain yourself on my account."

Jareth smiled. "I find myself at the peak of energy, actually, find that I would quite enjoy a walk through the gardens with a beautiful young maiden."

Morihana looked away. "Shall I go find you one?"

Jareth tisked. "You'd be hard pressed to find anyone fairer than the beauty who sits before me." he offered her his hand and helped her to her feet.

"You are overly-kind."

"I don't understand you women, always thinking so poorly of yourselves."


"My mother died when I was very young... rather, she disappeared, as I have no recollection of ever having attended a funeral of any sort and my father has only ever referred to her as being dead. My father is... he is..." Morihana paused here, clearly combing through vocabulary in order to find an adequate word. "My father is one-minded. He is either ruthless, or he is my father. Usually, though, he is ruthless."

"What of your brother?"

"He is equally ruthless. More so than my father. It is as if someone took all the bad parts of my father and bound them together to make my brother." she laughed lightly. "But I cannot complain. He is my brother, and he is who he is."

"And you?"

"I am... weak. Quiet. A disappointment."

"That is perspective."

Jareth steered to a stop in front of a patch of pale, wilting roses.

"Take these, for example. They are overshadowed by the tall, imposing plants that surround them. They are ill-suited for this garden. They are too small. Too plain." He ran a finger over the thin, browning stems. "And yet they still have thorns."

"I'm... not sure I understsand what you mean." Morihana confessed.

Jareth smiled brightly. "You don't need to."

He plucked a rose off of the vine and trailed a finger across the petals. The rose burst back into opulence as he tucked it into her raven hair.

"A gift for my lady." he murmured, snaking an arm around her waist and pulling her so near to him that their lips nearly met.

"Jareth..."

"Don't say a word."

"Uh... Kingy?" began a tentative voice.

Jareth swore.

"Yes?" he hissed, teeth clenched, as he turned, reluctantly, to face the leathery creature.

"Da babe... da madey babe in da kichens... hes not eatins. Hadn't eatins in days. We's been tryin to finds you but..."

Jareth's face was suddenly grave. "I will be there momentarily."

He turned his attention back to Morihana. "I will be back."

"Don't worry about me. You must attend the child."

"I am always being called away from you."

"Don't fret over me. You have-"

He smothered the rest of her words with an abrupt kiss.

"I will be back."


Khormich hadn't seen Jareth in days. He couldn't believe that he was still mad.

"Childish." Khormich muttered, "Childish and vain. That's my cousin. Never a single thought spared for anyone but himself." he grumbled as he continued down the hallway.

Jareth, meanwhile, was barreling down the same hallway in the opposite direction.

"I'll never understand how he-" Khormich continued, only to be cut off by the abrupt action of nearly barreling into the very person about whom he had been complaining.

"Jareth." he said scornfully.

"Not now, Khormich. I am needed."

"More goblins to wrangle?" he asked coolly.

"Something of the sort. But please, if you don't mind I really must be-"

"So eager to get away from me? Perhaps regretful at your choice of words during our last little... discussion?"

"I'm sorry that you think so highly of yourself that you believe I would feel something as profound as regret over something as trivial as a disagreement with you. However, my attention is needed elsewhere so we will have to continue this 'little discussion' later."

"What could you possibly deem so important? I daresay it isn't anything of any importance at all, if I know you, and I wager, dear cousin, that I know you quite well."

"You haven't the slightest idea what you're talking about, and you had better believe that if I had even the slightest inkling that you did, in fact, have the slightest idea, I would turn you inside out." he hissed. "In the most literal sense possible. Now I recommend that you step aside."

Jareth's tone struck Khormich's common sense, and he moved aside.

Jareth continued down the hallway, nearly running. Khormich watched him until he disappeared around the corner, leaving the princeling in a state of advanced confusion. As ill-tempered as his cousin could be, Khormich couldn't recall ever having seen him so inexplicably riled up. After mentally debating for only a moment, Khormich took off after him.

The kitchens were, as always, hot and over-crowded. The bustle of activity, however, was different than what Jareth was used to seeing. Goblins rushed back and forth carrying arm-fulls of food, muttering to themselves almost worriedly. The goblin in charge, Chewy, rushed over to Jareth upon his arrival.

"Kingy, thank goo-ness you's here. Da madey-babe won' eat nuffin. He jus sittin' over in da corner. No makey noise, no move. We thinked 'e was dead but Broom pokeded him wif a stick an he blinkeded a lil bit."

"Take me to him." Jareth demanded.

Chewy led Jareth through the chaos to the far corner of the room where the tiny goblin sat, nearly motionless, wide saucer eyes staring out into empty space.

"What is his name?" Jareth asked.

"Da madey babe."

"You haven't given him a name?"

"His name 'da madey babe.'" Chewy said.

"No, no. A proper name." Jareth explained, taking a seat on the floor in front of the small goblin. "What have you been trying to feed him?"

"Erryfing! He won eat nuffin!"

Jareth regarded the solemn goblin-child for a moment. "Bring me a cup of milk." he said.

"Milks? Milks not food. Milks drink." Chewy protested.

"Bring it." Jareth ordered as he pulled the nameless goblin onto his lap. "Do you know what I think?" he asked him quietly. "I think you need a name."

The still creature on his lap blinked up at him.

"This is going to be a fragile process, you know." he continued. "Your fellows have some rather disgusting names. Names I'd rather not give you. However, if I name you something too elegant you'll be alienated." he furrowed his brow in thought. "Mottle." he said suddenly. "Is that agreeable?" he asked the goblin-child.

The child blinked.

"Mottle it is." Jareth declared as Chewy returned with the milk.

"Milks." he said, disgusted as handed over the cup to Jareth. "Milks is icky. I don knows any goblins what likes milks."

Jareth tilted the cup of milk towards the small goblin's mouth and he began to drink it eagerly.

"Goblins don drink milks!" Chewy protested loudly. "Dey don! Dey don!"

"This goblin was not always a goblin. He used to be a human child, and human children drink milk." Jareth said. "You must give him milk until he has grown, do you understand?"

"I unnerstan I gots ta give da madey babe milks, but I don unnerstan why."

"Just as long as you understand that you must do it." Jareth said. "And you musn't call him that anymore. His name is Mottle."

Chewy wrinkled his nose. "Mottle? Das a funny name. We calls him Bottle instead?"

Jareth winced. "No."

Khormich observed this scene unnoticed from the doorway, and was more than just a little bit shocked. Had he heard right? Had the small goblin on his cousin's lap really once been... human?

His cousin's foul temper was, as far as Khormich was now concerned, justifiable. He wondered how this had come to pass. Human children did not turn into magical creatures for no reason. Jareth, he reasoned, no doubt blamed himself. In a rare moment of tactful thinking, Khormich decided to let it go. Questioning Jareth, letting him see him, even, would be a mistake. Quietly, Khormich slipped away.


"You really are beautiful, you know." Jareth said sometime later, after the chaos of the day had worn away. He and Morihana were sitting in the garden under a tree in the dying afternoon light. His world was, for once, completely silent.

"You really are entirely too kind." Morihana said quietly. "I really am quite plain."

Jareth chortled. "Plain in the way that stars are plain, perhaps. Plain in the way that roses are."

"You're too kind." she said again.

Jareth sighed and inclined his head so that it rested on hers.

"The Games draw near." he said after a moment.

"How goes your labyrinth?" Morihana asked.

Jareth began toying with her hair. "Very well, although I have decided to take a small break. My cousin must do his fair share, you know." he smiled. "I'm going to have an incredible amount of free time." he added. "I think that I shall impose upon you to keep me company until I am needed."

"I would be happy to."

"Unless, of course," he whispered into her hair. "You would like to need me."

"I..."

"Because I would very much like to need you." he said before capturing her lips with his own.

"I think," he began after breaking the kiss. "That we would do very well with needing each other."