A/N: Okay, as promised, here's your second chapter for the day.
And there's a "but" coming…
BUT… you may not see an upload from me for a few days. I have to go back to my day-job of scrubbing toilets. No wonder I fantasize about the Goblin King, right?
Also, chapter thirteen is proving to be a bit of a pain. I may need to take a bit of a breather to concentrate on other things. I have, however, planned and partially written out a stand-alone purely lemon story involving our favorite fantasy pairing (with strong BDSM themes, so beware). I may upload that sometime this week.
As always, thank you to those who have taken the time to write a bit of a review. I try to message people back but if I haven't gotten to you I will soon.
Cheers, darlings, and have a lovely week.
Disclaimer: I do not own Labyrinth or any of its characters. I do not profit from this story in any way.
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Chapter Twelve
'Dark Wings'
The source of the distress Jareth felt was clear once they rounded the corner. Great black warbirds circled ahead while high, pitiful screams and whines came from a crevasse at the bottom of sheer cliff-face. Jareth could see better than a human in the dark, but even he had trouble making out the shapes of a handful of trembling goblins, their faces upturned to the warbirds above them.
Sarah squeezed his hand and leaned over to inspect the little creatures, then looked up at the birds overhead. "What are those?"
Jareth narrowed his eyes, "They are Dionysus' personal guard. Battle-generals summoned and controlled by his concubine Moira."
She swallowed. "I'm assuming they're dangerous?"
"Very. One of those creatures is responsible for Ludo."
Her eyes narrowed, and he could feel her trembling, rage pouring off her like a blast of heat from an open oven. The amulet at her neck seemed to gleam in response, giving off a quick, faint glow before fading. He felt an answering breeze at the little push of magic, and the warbirds beat their wings faster to keep aloft. "How do I kill them?"
Jareth released her hand and summoned a sword and dagger pair. He handed the weapons to her hilt-first. "Stab anything that gets close enough. I'm going to speak to the goblins, see what happened here."
Sarah gave a terse nod and Jareth left her, his heart pounding as he skittered down the steep slope of the cliff face to the little rock ledge over the crevasse. He squatted down so that he could better see the figures inside, and felt a surge of shock at the sight. "Higgle?"
The goblin glared at him, "Its Hoggle!"
The bloody dwarf changes his name every season and he's the one that gets upset about it. "Yes. What are you doing here, and who are your companions?"
The goblin's eyes narrowed still further. "They're my friends and what's we're doing here is our business."
One of the other goblins shoved Hoggle roughly out of the way and peered up at Jareth. "Sire! We have a cave nearby, and we were out looking for food when the blood crows descended on us. We're trapped."
Jareth glanced up at the sky. He could see Sarah's silhouette against the burgeoning moonlight, and the movement of the enormous warbirds as their shapes eclipsed the light from the stars. He looked back down at the goblins, "They'll starve you out."
"And they'll rip us apart if we leave this shelter," Hoggle snarled.
Jareth pursed his lips. "Stay here. We'll take care of it."
He ascended the cliff face to Sarah, Hoggle's voice ringing out after him, "Who'll take care of it? Did he say 'we'?"
At the top, he approached Sarah, whose gaze never left the circling warbirds. Her weapons were held loosely in each hand, and he fought against a surge of tenderness that threatened to overwhelm him. He had coerced her here, true enough, but she was willing to avenge or defend his subjects and her friends the moment the need arose. She had grown tremendously not just from when they had first met, but from the moment she had stepped foot in the Labyrinth this time. The change was splendid to behold.
She would make a fine Queen.
He shook himself and touched her shoulder gently. Sarah tilted her head toward him but did not remove her gaze from the circling threat. "What's going on?" She asked, her voice soft.
Jareth conjured a sword of his own, affixing the weapon to the belt at his hip. "There's a group of approximately five goblins down below. They were out scavenging for food when Dionysus' guard attacked them. They're pinned down—if they emerge the war birds will tear them to pieces, but those creatures can circle for days. The goblins will starve before the creatures depart."
Sarah gave a short nod. "We have to kill them then, or scare them off."
"I'm afraid this will be a battle to the death. They never give up, not once they catch the scent of their prey." He took a deep breath and drew the dueling sword at his belt, "They're more than what they appear—they will have a leader who can summon the very forces of nature. We must dispatch them as fast as we are able." He paused, "Oh, and your friend Hoggle is down there."
Sarah started, and her eyes left their enemies for a moment, wide with shock. "Hoggle? Are you sure?"
There was an answering call, tiny and far away, "Sarah? What are you doing here?"
A smile split her face, and Sarah gave a short, genuine bark of laughter. "I'm saving your life!" She called down, and then tilted her head at Jareth in a nod. "I counted four of the feathery bastards. You?"
He agreed.
"How do we get them down?"
Jareth gritted his teeth and rested the edge of his sword against the skin of his wrist, bare between shirt and glove, "Like this." He pressed down, and blood beaded from his skin in an instant before one of the great warbirds gave a shriek and plunged down at them, talons outstretched and bloodlust blazing in its red eyes.
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The creatures dive-bombed them, and Sarah threw herself out of Jareth's way. She had never seen him use a sword before but knew he would need room to work. She had no desire to be stabbed on accident.
The birds, which had looked to be about the size of a golden eagle from afar, grew rapidly as they approached until they were the size of a Great Dane, with a wingspan of at least twenty feet. Sarah took a deep, steadying breath and raised her sword and dagger, ready for the assault.
She brought her weapon to bear on the warbird that initially targeted Jareth. It had not seen her with her dark hair and clothing and was intent on the still-bleeding Goblin King. The creature had no time to register its mistake on its shockingly human features before her dagger struck it. Powered by the creatures dive, the dagger parted the skin beginning at its chest and all the way down to the tail features. Disemboweled, it was only able to give a brief sqwark of surprise before it tumbled boneless to the side, crashing several hundred feet down the sharp incline of the mountain.
Her arm throbbed from the impact of the creature on her dagger, but she barely had time to acknowledge the hurt before a second warbird dropped to the ground with a flurry of wind that scattered dust and debris high into the air. Sarah flinched from the gale, shielding her eyes out of habit, and the eagle lashed out with its wickedly curved beak, cutting into the arm she used to cover her eyes. Sarah cried out and dropped her dagger, but raised her sword as the bird came in for a second strike.
Her sword sparked off the sharply curved beak of the creature like the reaction of steel hitting stone. The eagle's red eyes blazed like coals in its black face, and its strangely human features twisted in rage. It beat its wings against the ground, stirring up more dust to obscure her vision, but Sarah understood the purpose of the trick now and squinted her eyes instead of shutting them. It provided her with the bare half-second necessary to block before the bird kicked out with steak-knife length talons, ripping through her shirt but avoiding the soft belly beneath.
She heard a feral scream from behind her and bared her teeth in a savage smile. Jareth had just slain his own foe, she was certain of it. An instant later she felt his back press up against hers, the solid presence of him bolstering her calm and renewing the sense of righteous indignation she felt against the terrible creatures. They were trying to hurt Hoggle and four other goblins. They have to be stopped.
The bird stalked toward her on curled talons, its head bobbing from one side to the other like a snake-charmed cobra. She felt Jareth tense against her back, and a moment later he was gone, screaming in a language that she could not understand. She barely had time to register the fact before her enemy lashed out again and she had to parry.
Sarah had never used a sword before she returned to the Labyrinth, but somehow the weapon seemed like an extension of her arm, as though it was meant to be there. She parried another thrust from the curved, snapping beak and drew blood on the monster with a swift downward stroke. She had aimed for the side of its neck, intending to sever a major artery of some kind, but the bird deflected with one massive wing. Her sword sunk into the flight feathers and thin flesh until the steel hit solid bone and she withdrew. It all happened in one smooth, fast motion.
The warbird screamed, and lightning arced across the sky at its call. Sarah had only a second to register what was about to happen, the hair rising on the back of her neck. Her body moved too slowly to do anything. She saw the lightning fork and race downward, straight at her outstretched steel sword.
But something else struck her before the lightning could. Sarah hit the ground with enough force to knock the wind out of her lungs and had to blink through the sudden flash of heat, light and noise that erupted around her. She could smell burnt hair and the cloying stench of cooked flesh.
She blinked her eyes rapidly, trying to clear her vision before the next strike of warbird or lightning. She saw Jareth's slumped form, right where she had been a moment before, and the enormous warbird with its wings spread over the fallen Goblin King, shrieking triumph into the skies. Two of its comrades lay still on the flat ground on which they had fought, spreading pools of blackness a sure sign that they would not be joining the fight again.
Sarah locked her jaw and pulled herself to her feet, shaking. Her wounded arm, shocked by the impact of the first war bird, the talons of the second, and now the fall was screaming out at her. She ignored it as best she could, her eyes flickering to Jareth's still form and charging the last of Dionysus's personal guard.
The creature did not see her coming, so absorbed in its triumph as it swept its head down toward the prone Goblin King. Sarah screamed as she brought her sword down two-handed, ignoring the blaze of pain up her arms. The sword bit through the back of the eagle's neck like butter, and its head went rolling away to fall down the mountain and join the pieces of its comrade. The sword hit the ground and stuck. Sarah leaned against it for a moment, her breathing labored.
She fell to her knees, arms and legs trembling with fatigue. She took a moment to breathe before she crawled over to Jareth's still form, her heart thundering in her chest. Please, please, please don't be dead, she thought savagely. He looked terrible, burnt and blackened over more than half of his body. Her hand found his neck, and she let out a choked sob when she felt his pulse beating beneath her fingers, faint but sure.
Hoggle and his band emerged from the crevasse to find Sarah holding Jareth's limp head in her lap. She barely registered her old friends' presence, fumbling as she was for the flask in Jareth's vest. She tipped the liquid within into his open mouth, massaging his throat so that he swallowed. The Goblin King was burned along one entire side of his body, the skin blackened and peeling over horribly red wounds, his clothing smoldered away to nothing but strips of singed cloth.
Sarah pressed her forehead to his and closed her eyes, hoping that he had not changed the liquid within the flask to something other than the healing potion in the day since he had last administered it to her. Her fingers gently stroked his hair, and her mouth moved in a silent prayer.
Hoggle stood staring at his friend with his mouth hanging open in disbelief. His four companions stood on either side of them and watched with dawning wonder as the horrible burns on their former liege knitted themselves closed. The Goblin King opened his eyes to smile up at the woman who held him in her arms.
Neither of them noticed as a single white feather dropped out of the sky above them. It fell through the windy skies as steady as a lead weight. A few feet above them it split cleanly down the middle, one side falling into Sarah's hand, the other into Jareth's.
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Jareth followed Hoggle and his band to their cave further down the mountain side. He carried Sarah in his arms. She had taken her own drought of the potion at the top of the mountain, stood, and promptly collapsed into an exhausted stupor. Jareth had lifted her in his arms and she had given only a half-hearted murmur of protest. Her head rested against his chest, her body curled in his arms, her hand fisted in his shirt. He knew that, despite the cold mountain air and the bumpy ride, she was fast asleep.
The goblins chattered excitingly to themselves as they walked, even after his admonishment that they should keep quiet. It was no good trying to tell these types of goblins to do much of anything.
His half of the owl feather had stayed corporal for only a few moments before it was absorbed into his skin. Though he had not tried it yet, Jareth could feel that his owl form was waiting for him. The freedom of flight was, again and at last, his. Not only that but, if his suspicions were correct, he could now soar beneath the starry sky side by side with the woman now held in his arms.
Sarah had not registered the last artifact, but Jareth could not blame her. Having already been weakened by Dionysus' poison, she had gone through tremendous physical effort before the battle that ended their day. She would sleep as long as she desired if he had anything to do with it.
But you have little more than twenty-six hours until the lunar year is up, and one more task yet to complete before the duel can be won.
He tightened his grip on Sarah's soft form and followed the goblins as they led him into the cave they called home. It was remarkably spacious for a goblin dwelling, with ceilings that were tall enough to accommodate even his considerable height. The cave had been separated into two distinct parts—one part sleeping quarters with separate bunks, and one part congregation area. The goblins had obviously been here for some time, as there were animal bones and refuse scattered around the edges of the common area, and low stones worn smooth from hours of sitting.
A fire still blazed in a circle of smooth gray rocks, casting a warm yellow-orange glow on the natural stone walls. Hoggle led him toward the back of the cave, where there were spaces carved into the rock walls large enough to allow Sarah to lie down comfortably.
Jareth nodded at the little goblin and created a blanket to drape over Sarah's sleeping form. He tucked it in around the edges to ensure the chill of the bare walls around her would not interfere with her sleep and followed Hoggle back toward his little band of companions.
Jareth sat on the floor against one of the stone walls, one leg spread out in front of him and the other bent so he could rest one long arm across the knee. He surveyed the goblins calmly and said, in as gentle a voice as he could manage, "Can you tell me what has happened to bring you all here? Why are you not in the villages where you belong?"
The goblins all looked at each other, fear evident on their faces. Jareth knew he had not been the most gracious of rulers at times, but he had been just and fair. He commanded respect out of his subjects, even those led by Sarah's old ally. One of them stepped up, a grey-skinned little fellow with large yellow eyes and a patchwork tunic. "Sire, Dionysus set out cleansing the villages of those against his reign the moment he seized control." The creature nodded toward Hoggle, "He was singled out the first day, but the rest of us followed in time."
Jareth raised his eyebrows at the dwarf, who shrugged. He gave a slight nod to the goblin. "And your name?"
"Azra, sire."
"Thank you, Azra. But why were you attacked by the warbirds?'
Hoggle spoke this time, "Dionysus put a moratorium on us gathering food. Says we has to grow it ourselves or else, by all rights, it belongs to him and we's stealing it."
Jareth gave a tight smile and waved his hand at the low stone table cluttered with half-broken crockery. The broken items disappeared, and the table was suddenly laden with food. Roasts, pies, jugs of ale, and mounds of potatoes. "Please," he said. "You all must be hungry. Help yourselves."
The goblins all fell upon the delicious-smelling food without a second thought, all but Hoggle. He approached Jareth, cautious and first and then with steady determination, his shoulders set squarely forward. "Jareth," Hoggle murmured when he was within a foot of the Goblin King's face.
"Hoggle," he said, his voice matching the dwarf in pitch. "I have to say, I did not expect to see you among any of my loyal followers."
The dwarf gave another shrug of his thick shoulders, "We may nots get on all the time, but you's still my king." He glanced toward the back of the cavern, "And speaking of which, is that my Sarah?"
Jareth gave Hoggle a wry smile. "I believe she is her own, not yours, but yes… she is the Sarah, who ran the Labyrinth thirteen years ago."
Hoggle's eyes narrowed, "And you ain't… you ain't working against her now? She's safe?"
He raised his eyebrows, "You just saw that girl torn bloody, and you're asking if she's safe? No, Hoggle, she is not safe. Not until I regain my throne—a task that she is graciously helping me complete." Even if I had to kidnap her to begin with, he smiled to himself, well, it is practically a rule, after all.
Hoggle pointed a thick finger at him though he was careful not to touch the Goblin King with it. "You knows what I mean," he growled. "Last time she was here, you were trying to keep her here, I knows it. Is she safe from you."
Jareth pursed his lips and felt his eyes harden. Hoggle took a self-conscious step backward, his eyes widening. "Hoggle," Jareth said, his voice low and dangerous. "I'll ask that you recall what you saw when you and your cronies came out of hiding earlier this evening."
"You and Sarah, sire."
"Yes. And what was Sarah doing?"
Hoggle swallowed loudly, "Holding your head in her lap." His voice quieted even further, "But yous was injured. She's just…" he struggled to hold on to his indignation. "She's a kind lady."
Jareth gave a deep nod of acquiescence and pitched his voice low so as not to be overheard. "I love her, Hoggle, and she me."
The goblin eyed him for a long, silent moment. Even though Hoggle had confirmed his loyalty to Jareth, he had the feeling the dwarf would raise an unholy racket if he suspected Jareth had coerced Sarah in any way. They stared at each other for a long few moments before Hoggle gave a terse nod, "I'll be askin' Sarah about this when she wakes." With that, he shuffled off to his companions to partake in the small feast.
Jareth replaced some of the eaten food with new creations before he leaned his head back against the stone wall and closed his eyes. He was weary, but it was more emotional exhaustion than a physical one. He had overcome a majority of the Labyrinth. With only one task left to him, he would have, under any other circumstances, considered himself lucky. Instead, he felt a growing sense of dread and contempt for what he had to do. I have to, he thought, but I have the feeling that she… she may want to. The idea made his stomach contract almost painfully, I have for, oh, so many years, I have wanted her.
He rolled his head over toward where Sarah slept and tried to make out her shape in the deep shadows at the back of the cave. He could not, but he could feel her peaceful, sleepy presence there. Without a word to the goblins, Jareth rose and strode to the sleeping area, where he spread himself out underneath the bunk that sheltered Sarah and closed his eyes.
No matter what happens, he thought, I'll have her. Even if she is never the Goblin Queen, she will be my queen.
