"Don't go on- this not the way!"
The king and I were in the under belly of the Labyrinth. I had chosen a private moment in the relationship of Sarah and Jareth to read out loud. For extra security I had insisted on physically being where the memory had taken place. Large boulders supported the ceiling- they had eyes and mouths that leered and spoke. They were known as the false alarms: intimidating creatures to confuse you amidst the turns and twists. One large face bellowed at us as we passed. Upon realizing who he addressed he quickly apologized, "Your majesty, forgive me. I did not know it was you."
"Glad to see you still remember your lines," said Jareth leaning against the boulder.
"We may not get many who pass this way, but my duty shall never be forgotten sire." The face seemed to beam with pride.
"See that it isn't. Carry on then."
As we moved away the face announced the presence of the king and guest. "She bears the moon pendant!"
We passed at least thee more faces who all hailed the king. Each voice spoke with a different character- some indifferent others eager to use their voices. All of them sought out their king's approval. "See how well we've kept the tunnels!" one face called out.
"Live long the most gracious Fae king!" called another.
Jareth smiled pleased. "Isn't loyalty a grand thing?" he mused moving into another passage.
Ego stroking isn't too bad either, I thought hiding a smile.
"Just through here," he was saying. "is the side passage to where we store the Cleaners; an odd place for a confrontation if ever there was one."
"It was one of many confrontations." I took out the book.
He walked around the little room. "I haven't been down here in ages…"
"Shall we begin?" I asked.
My voice had yet to fail me; still I wanted to be absolutely sure of his remembering. "Some slight changes need to be made. First you must change your clothes." He cocked an eye brow. "You need to be wearing fitted grey breeches and a brown leather jacket." Without warning he put a hand to my forehead. I felt the air change; it tingled my skin. When I opened my eyes his clothes were exact replica from the movie. He asked for approval. "Down to the very gloves! You pulled that right out of my head?" My fingers felt the place he had touched.
"Need anything else?" He was grinning.
"An antique clock with thirteen numbers wouldn't hurt." I felt his hand again. An ornate clock appeared suspended in the air. I counted the hour marks- there were thirteen. I began to read the passage.
Sarah and Hoggle were in the presence of the Goblin King. They were both afraid. While Hoggle simpered before him, Sarah feigned confidence. Her mother had instilled in her the skill of acting. With every look the king challenged her and devoured her. He threatened Hoggle, "If I thought for one second that you were betraying me I'd be forced to suspend you head first into the Bog of Eternal Stench." The dwarf had graveled and he had been kicked away. Now the king was testing Sarah- just how valiant and determined was this delightful mortal? More importantly how was she enjoying his Labyrinth?- "It's a piece of cake." His eyes made her knees shake, but she acted cool just like her mother had taught her to. In response one hour was stolen from her. If his Labyrinth was so easy then she could it only twelve hours.
"Then you brought the Cleaners upon her," I summarized. His back was toward me with his hands clasped. I could actually hear the clock ticking.
From behind us the voice of one of the alarms came, "What are they doing in there?"
"Shh!" came another.
"I was just curious," the voice sounded sullen.
"Then shut up and listen!"
"Jareth?" I asked when he still made no response.
He slowly turned surveying the room. "The Cleaners are around one corner and the False Alarms around another- it's as if the author had the blue prints to my domain." His eyes came to me. For a moment I saw something very real, very soft pass through them. Then it was gone. He shook his head.
I bit my lip. "Is there anything about this place that you remember; any memories at all?"
He stood in the way that led back to the boulders. "I used to play in these passages as a child. The stories I could tell you!" He smiled a genuine one at that. "But I never brought anyone here, nor do I fancy myself meeting anyone here." Bracing an arm against the stone wall he leaned towards me much as he would have done to Sarah. It made for a very good view of his body. His long, masculine, feline like… I began flipping through the book to avoid distraction. "Now what?" he asked.
I shrugged. "We try another scene."
Bells began ringing; a summoning. I started. "Duty calls!" He transported me back to the castle. Once there he was gone to the Aboveground.
I found myself wandering the gardens keeping the veranda near my sight at all times. Everything about Jareth's realm bore traits of a maze, a labyrinth. One's thoughts even take unexpected twists and turns, I thought to myself. Best keep a familiar land mark within eye shoot to not get lost. Ahead the path widened and a pagoda came into view. Off the side of the path there was a wheel barrow and garden tools. From amidst the shrubbery Hoggle's head appeared. He smiled as I approached. "Greetings Lady Rebekah!" he called. "Come to see the progress of your garden now?"
"No," I laughed. His hands were covered in soil and he smelt of earth. "I just happened to wander out to the right place."
"Ah! Well come and have a look-see then. We just finished the pagoda this morning." He veered towards the erection.
"You built this for me?" I could not hide my amazement. "This is beginning to look more like a monument, than a garden."
"You've done the Underground a world of service. The others, the goblins, told me what you have done here. Jareth- he chose a fine silver-tongue mortal." He patted my arm in approval.
"Why thank you Hoggle! Though I must say I feel unworthy of your praise- he also picked an ignorant mortal." He gave me a quizzical look. "I was completely unaware of my ability until the king came a-knocking."
"Really?" Those bushy eye brows were raised up. His eyes seemed to dart around as if he was checking to make sure we were alone. "So, uh, do you know how many times the king came to you?"
"Well I only know for sure of twice."
He scoffed. "Twice!"
"You know the king won't really discuss with me how he found me." Those eyes darted again. This time I looked around as well- no one or thing down either side of the path. "Or for how long he watched." He seemed to have grown a little distressed over the topic, and began ringing his hands. I pressed him, "Hoggle what do you know?"
"Nothin'!" he exclaimed. "Pardon me for not wanting to incur the king's wrath, my lady, but I must say I know nothin'." He picked up his shovel and made ready to turn away.
I sensed his intentions. "Now see here you asked the question!"
He sighed with his whole body. "Just a question; no harm in asking questions."
"Answer me one thing Hoggle- is there really a war brewing?"
"Yes betwixt Jareth and Brighton."
"Did Brighton cast a forgetting spell that could only be lifted by a silver-tongue mortal?"
"That would be answering more than one thing." He turned to face me again. Coming near he answered, "Yes." He put a hand on my arm. "You are here for more than one reason. Were you in harm's way I would tell you more, but I's won't go meddling in the king's business." He then turned to leave, whistling as he went.
"Is there a chance for me to be in harm's way?"
He continued to whistle. I watched him tackle a patch of earth with the shovel. From further down the path a group of goblins were approaching bearing another wheel barrel. They joined the dwarf.
Reluctantly I left. Why was it no one wanted to discuss what had happened prior to my coming? Hoggle had seemed genuinely afraid of discussing the matter. Yet it had been his question that had initiated the topic. The moment I pressed further he panicked. None of it made sense. Silly Fae, I thought to myself reaching the veranda. A servant appeared and inquired if I should want lunch outside. In the warmth of the fall sun would be a good place to think. As I ate I picked over some theories. It was very probable that all of the inhabitants of the Underground- the king, the physician, the goblins, Hoggle- were all with holding information. Of course then there was the very real possibility that whatever did occur prior to my arrival just didn't concern me. I took a bite of salad. Let them have their secrets, I thought.
Hearing foot steps I looked up to see the king. He walked slowly, shoulders slightly hunched with a brooding expression. Something was definitely wrong. He had been near light hearted before leaving for the summons. Sighing he walked to the table and took hold of one of the chairs. I asked if he was well. He shook his head. "The last summons did not go well." His eyes avoided me. "We lost one to Sheol into Pluto's hand."
Sheol: the place of the dead for both the righteous and devious; the waiting place. Pluto: the ruler of said place. I sat my fork down. "Young?" I asked referring to the child.
"Ten." His hands flexed. "She passed through the veil as soon as I stepped back." My food was no longer appealing. I watched his face. His eye twitched. "There will be a small service for her this evening. We keep a chapel at the far end of the nursery. Bartholomew is seeing to her now." He looked at me. "Perhaps we can hold off any more reminding for the day?"
"Of course."
"Thank you." His eyes flickered away. He turned to leave.
I stood up. "Jareth!" He looked back at me. "May I… may I come to the service?"
He regarded me. "If you so desire."
"I do."
He nodded. "Meet me outside the nursery at five o'clock." He walked off the veranda and into the gardens. I sat back down and allowed a few tears.
At four pm I went to my room to dress for the service. Surveying the wardrobe I pondered what would be considered appropriate Underground funeral attire. Death was an occurrence to be respected, at least in my world. Was it feared here? Or honored? Did they wear black? A servant arrived to rescue me. "My name is Meep miss; allow me to help you dress for the funeral."
"Gladly."
From the back of the wardrobe she pulled out a modest black gown that had a black lace shawl as well. "You will use the shawl to cover your head," she explained helping me step into the skirt. "You must shield yourself from the claws of death."
"Is Pluto so eager for souls that he would seek to devour life during a funeral?"
"Death cares not who you are or where you are." The sleeves were pulled up. "Pluto is a just ruler and he is to be respected by covering yourself. His majesty will be covered in a black cloak as well."
I turned to view myself in a mirror. Every dress seemed to hug me tighter than I would want, but it sufficed. As I reached to conceal the moon pendant under the scoop of the neck Meep asked why I would hide the king's symbol; why I did not show it with pride. "It is a personal thing," I said letting it drop. "It represents a bargain betwixt the king and me- no one else need know about it."
"But we already do!" she exclaimed smiling. "The king's admiration of you is quite evident."
I said nothing in response. Better to keep such revelations to one's self than encourage fantasies that weren't meant to be.
At five o'clock I found myself walking towards the nursery. Jareth was there waiting his body covered in a black cloak. Offering a very faint smile he greeted me, "Very appropriate." He indicated my garments. "Except one thing is amiss." Smoothly he crooked his finger and drew out the pendant. "Do not hide it." He let it dangle from his finger.
"It represents a private agreement," I replied. "I don't need to go flaunting it about."
"Only shameful things are hidden."
"But Jareth,"
His eyes grew hard. Tugging on the pendant he forced me to draw closer to him. "Don't argue with me right now girly, I'm in no decent mood. Humor me and leave it out!" He laid it against the fabric. Pulling the shawl over my head he continued, "There now you are ready."
"Fine. Whatever. Let's get through this without being disrespectful." Tucking my hand under his arm he led me into the building.
He led me down the far end of the building where we passed through a set of heavy wooden doors. There was an isle with pews on either side. At the front a long flat table stood flanked on either side by a collection of roses. He took me to the front and after sitting me on a pew stood in front of the table. Other Fae arrived. Most of them were elves from the nursery- I recognized Fergi as she curtsied to the king. As she turned to walk away she shot me an odd glance. Her eyes made the pendant feel awkwardly large and noticeable. As discreetly as I could I moved the pendant under the fabric. Quietness fell over the room. At the far end of the isle Bartholomew appeared, behind him six male elves carried a casket. "Hale Jareth, King of the Goblins and kindred!" he called.
Jareth responded, "Hale Bartholomew, physician and kindred!"
"I bring you a child- see to her; fulfill your oath to protect the innocent and see her over to other side."
Jareth faced worked hard to control some emotion. "Bring her to me. I will fulfill my oath." The casket descended the isle. Setting it on the table the pall bearers turned to stand three by three on either side of the casket. Bartholomew took a seat on the same pew as myself. Jareth stood behind the casket as if he was at a pulpit and he a priest. "Behold," he began, his voice resounding and commanding. "the reminder of the importance of my duty. See the loss of innocence and the disrespect for life. Behold the reminder! Bow with me." His head lowered he began to speak in a language I could not comprehend. It sounded of Greek and of French; it was melodic and old. It was the ancient language, the vernacular of the Fae. I knew not the words, but some how I saw of what he spoke- I saw life and the rich blessings we are given; I saw rain fall on both the just and the unjust; I saw the seasons give way to the next sister. I saw it all in his words. Tears fell. "Now I fulfill my oath with her burial. Come you kindred and bear witness." The ball bearers once more lifted the casket and the crowd moved out a back door.
I was relieved to see that the cemetery held very few head stones. Even with the new hole waiting the total number of graves was roughly thirty. Thirty souls lost to Pluto, I thought standing apart from the crowd, still one too many. Silently the witnesses watched as the casket was lowered into the ground. Taking a fist full of dirt Jareth tossed it upon the casket. From where I stood I could have sworn that I saw a tear fall down his cheek. He turned his head and raised a hand to his cheek. All of the other Fae followed suite, dropping handfuls of dirt. As the last one passed I found that the king and I were along by the grave. Choking back my own emotions I too performed the same actions. He gave me a weak smile. "Come," he then said, offering his hand. "Let us go into eat." Taking his hand he took us from the cemetery to his private chamber.
Once in the room he ordered a servant to prepare food and drink and have brought to the room. That done he threw aside his cloak and flung himself on the couch. I noticed even his clothes were black. The idea of death still hung in the air. It left a bitter taste in my mouth. I sought words to ease the tension. "You do your job well, you know," I said. He grunted in response. "Do you always take it this hard?"
He stretched his legs out. "It doesn't happen very often. I pride myself on efficiency," he went on. "When a child dies post-wish… it is my fault for not responding fast enough."
I considered this. "There is only one of you Jareth."
"Humph! Rebekah I have the power of a god, therefore I should have no limitations."
I stood behind him. "But you are not a god."
He arched his neck and look up at me. "That I am not… but I need to be reminded every once in a while." Reaching around, he took hold of my arm. "Come sit with me." His hand guided me around the couch. With me sitting across from him he seemed to relax. For myself I still tasted the bitterness in my mouth. Death is never an easy occurrence. I wanted to understand his responsibilities, but I also wanted him to recognize his limitations. Not a god, but not a mortal, I mused, where does that leave him- angel? Divine being? Superman? A life under his care had been lost, yet it had been no fault of his. "Why did you attend the service?" he asked. His hand still held my arm.
"It was the right thing to do. Death is to be respected."
He seemed to honestly consider my response. "You speak well. Out of all of us Pluto wields great power. He is my constant adversary." The hand that had been on my arm was raised to touch my head. He brushed back the veil exposing all of my red hair. Absently he combed his fingers through a few strands. "Such lovely hair." The hand went back to my arm which he pulled on. "Come here. I just want you near for comfort," he then added as I opened my mouth to protest.
"Remember your promise," I said as he had me lean against him. Head on his shoulder, he rested his head against mine. Had I said that for his benefit or mine? I thought as I smelt him. Cloves were so divine.
"Some times the nearness of a woman is the best thing for a man."
Like wise, I thought closing my eyes. He shifted slightly leaning further back in to the crook of the couch. For a moment we just breathed together. It was near the end of the day and it was relaxing to lay warm and snug against a body.
I felt something lightly brush against my chest. Glancing down I realized his fingers were playing with the chain of the necklace. They trailed and caressed the links, brushing my skin ever so lightly.
Ghads, I thought trying not to start hyperventilating, does he realize how that feels?!
Slowly he traced the chain down where it disappeared beneath the fabric of the dress. There they stopped, poised and hesitant. I tensed wondering if he would dare. One finger dipped below the collar line, following the train of the necklace to where the pendant rested quite intimately between my breasts. Involuntarily I half squeaked half gasped, my body tensing against his. He stilled his pursuit. "Easy girly," he said, calm and confident. "I'm merely retrieving what's mine." The finger hooked the pendant and drew it out.
I made a ridiculous noise as he did so. "You could have just asked for it," I said breathlessly.
"I had to contrive some sort of punishment for you hiding it again," was his reply. He played with the pendant.
My skin tingled where he had been. "Copping a feel is considered punishment now?"
His hand pushed the pendant flush with my chest, while his other hand took a handful of my hair. "Don't try to tell me it isn't torturous for me to touch you." One hand tightened, the other pushed harder. His lips were at my ear. "You're so irritatingly pious that you'll fight every inclination to respond or touch me in return."
I surprised myself even by reaching out to touch his hand that held the pendant. "Do your worst." It was a reckless challenge.
There was the faintest change in his breathing- just a little quicker. His fingers flinched. "Hmm, are you sure you want that?"
Against all better reasoning words were tumbling out of my mouth, "It just means I'm resigned to my punishment."
He forced me to shift so I was looking at him. His eyes were a mixture of sexuality and apprehension. I knew I looked similar, except my cheeks were flushed. "You coy, suggestive, troublesome woman- are you inviting me to break our bargain?"
Yes, I thought to myself.
"It's what you want."
He shook his head. "That's not what I asked. I know what I want; I know full well what I want. As accustomed as I am to getting it, you better be one hundred percent sure of what it is you want."
Boldly I leaned forward and grazed his lips with my own. I distinctly felt his chest rise in several shallow breaths. "I want release." I moved my hand up his arm, drawing myself closer to him. I wasn't sure what had gotten in to me, but I was ready to throw caution to the wind and have at it. Nothing fought or screamed inside me expect the need to feel his hands on many more places than just my chest. Kissing him again he responded, moving his lips against my mouth with skill. If I was going to go to hell in a hand basket, might as well make it one with silk lining. I moved to wrap my arms around his neck, to press our bodies together. He in turn held onto my waist, lifting me to sit across his lap. Inhaling I could smell rich cloves; it enticed a dreamy sigh out of me. He made a noise in response and ran his tongue across my lips. Letting him in, I tasted coco. Again I wondered if he could taste or smells things about me. Supporting my back he leaned forward and laid me against the cushions. He left my lips, which were tingling and throbbing, and began kissing along my neck. "What do I taste like?" I asked. These kisses were feathery- I shuddered under him.
He paused and hovered over my skin. "You taste like spun honey. You smell like," he inhaled and let out warm breath. "spring time… like orange blossoms. Sweet," he dropped his head lower and kissed at my collar bone. "and tangy."
There was a knock at the door.
Neither one of us moved. It was probably a servant. I prayed he had enough decency to not embarrass me by flaunting our current condition. He raised his head and looked at me. He smiled, most wickedly. My eyes shot open in alarm. "Don't move!" he told me, sitting up. The angle of the couch was so that whoever was at the door could only see the back- sitting up Jareth was only visible from his shoulders up. From where I lay I was undetectable. "Yes!" he called out.
"Dinner sire."
Rolling his eyes- oh, yes, we had ordered food, had quite forgotten about that, my didn't we get distracted- he told the servant to enter. I could hear the clatter of the service cart and the clink of the dishes. Glancing down at me he reached for the moon and gave it a decent tug. In response I found his leg and pinched him. "Just leave it!" he was then saying to the servant. "That'll do." The door shut. Looking down at me, he shook his head and sighed. Smiling, he said, "I thought you wanted me to remember Sarah."
It was my turn to roll my eyes. "I don't know what got into me."
"Frustration, I'd wager. Come here- let's talk you and me." He pulled me up. I stayed on his lap. He studied my face. "I want this." He indicated what we had just been about. "I want it because it's you; because it would be amazing." He paused.
"There's a 'but' there, isn't there?"
"You made me take an oath and I am bound by that now. Besides it is impossible to suddenly decide in a split second that all of your convictions and beliefs are nothing."
"But isn't that what you wanted?" I could not hide my exasperation.
"It's not what you want though. Come the morning after you would hate yourself as well as me. I won't do that."
"How gentlemanly of you."
"I still reserve the right to harass and depending on what you might do, even punish you."
"Then what do I get out of this?"
"A clean conscience, harmless flirtation, and… a more agreeable goblin king."
"So long as I don't keep you at arm's length?"
"I'll leave breathing room. I'm asking you to meet me half way with this."
He had tasted so good, he had smelt so wonderful; I was still feeling excited from him. Then again I had nearly broken my own oath. He had a point. It was a generous offer.
"Agreed." He scouted me off his lap, complaining that the food would be getting cold.
