A/N: Hi, all! I can't believe it's been sooooo long since I last updated. Never fear, dear readers. This story is finished and I'll be posting the rest of it on a biweekly schedule. That should give me enough time to get the next one finished and ready for posting. I want to thank Angelus Draco, BeccaLister, bwolfprincess, Dragowolf, Emerald Penguin, envygreedgreenthunder, Epic Failing Again, gothicrocker2, Guest, MyraValhallah, Operaphantomgrl, Rayen Autumn King, Rocky181, secondhandrapture, Sephirotha. Seraphina Dragon, SexyAvalonPriestess, Shadowfey913, Silvermastermind, SivMeille, Skyeward MusicLover, Tee20, Vampiyaa, WatersOfOblivion, and wondergirl329 for reviewing since I last posted. You are awesome! If you feel so inclined, please leave a review. They really do inspire me to keep writing!

Disclaimer: Nope, in the two years since I last updated this story, I still haven't gotten the rights.

The Labyrinth's Queen

Cracks and Fissures

~~~~~~~~ooooo~~~~~~~~

Puck paced the small home, feeling quite helpless. If it were possible, he believed that Keely had grown even more pale and drawn. Her skin looked sickly and clung to her bones, giving her a gaunt, skeleton like, appearance. She still had not opened her eyes and he wondered if she ever would again. The room was eerily quiet; the silence only broken by the sound of Puck's feet and Keely's harsh breathing.

Turning to take in the Ancient Magic, he felt like crying. It wasn't fair for something this powerful with so much beauty to suffer through a torturous ending. The Underground owed so much more to this being of life. Well, the least he could do was ease her distress. Walking over to the tiny daybed, he couldn't help but see that she was shivering. Yet, when he placed his hand to her brow, he felt the fever as it nearly scalded his hand. With a flick of his wrist, a cool towel appeared in his hand. Caressing her pale hair back from her face, he carefully placed the cloth upon her head.

With shaky hands, he poured a glass of water from a nearby carafe. He lifted it to her lips as he implored, "Here, my Lady. Sip this."

Her head rolled to the side as she refused the offer.

"Please, Lady Keely. You must drink."

Again, she refused. Puck was beginning to feel real fear for the first time in his long life. Desperate to save the ancient magic, he tried to get her to drink a third time. Still, she held fast in her refusal. With a sigh, he placed the cup on the small side table. His hand carded through his hair as he wondered what he should do. He was sure that her time was measured in minutes, rather than hours, now.

Her hands reached out and he shifted his gaze to see the object of her desire. At the end of her bed, lay a downy soft blanket. She must have kicked it off earlier and now wanted its warmth. Puck lifted the blanket and placed it upon her small body. Her breathing settled a bit and his eyes held a glimmer of hope. Could she finally be getting better?

Puck smoothed the blanket around her shoulders and his hand brushed upon a strange object. It was as if it gave off an electric pulse and he tore his hand away, examining it for any adverse effects. Pulling back the blanket, he noticed a medallion around her neck. He'd never seen its twin. Looking closely, he could sense an infusion of very powerful, very dark, magic. It definitely was not something he would expect to see on a being comprised of light magic. Could this medallion be causing the Labyrinth to remain in misery? There was just one way to be sure. He'd have to remove it from her neck.

Titania wiped violently at the tears trailing down her dirty cheeks. She couldn't afford to mourn the loss of her husband when her sons needed her so desperately. Walking past the demon that killed Oberon, she indulged in the childish desire to spit on his body. Titania ordered a nearby general to watch over her husband. When the war was over, she would come back for him and give him a proper service. Right now, her troops needed a leader and she would step up to the plate. With renewed fervor, the High Queen emitted a battle cry and led her troops further into the Labyrinth.

As her blade cut down one enemy, Titania quickly moved onto the next. These were her subjects, yet she had to cut them down. Turning a corner, she suddenly came to a stop. Her mouth opened and closed in sheer amazement. There, in front of her, was Oberon. He was alive! Titania felt a rush of emotions and a terrible need to run to him and make sure he was real. Something kept her from doing just that. Looking back, she could see one of her generals grabbing onto her arm. She struggled for a moment before looking back to her husband.

"Titania, my sweet," Oberon sighed.

"Oberon, my love," she replied, still pulling against the strong hand of her guardian.

Oberon looked at her for a moment before beckoning her forward. "Come to me."

"Do you smell that, my Queen?" asked the general, trying desperately to get her attention.

All of a sudden, the smell of brimstone became overwhelming. She began to cough at the scent. It was then she realized what her general had been trying to tell her. This was not her Oberon. A demon had taken his form, knowing that she wouldn't be able to resist. It was also aware that her greatest fear was having to cut down someone she loved for the sake of the Underground. Steeling herself, she began to move towards the creature.

"Nice try," she scoffed.

"I haven't begun to try," said the fake Oberon.

Titania drew her sword, once again. She pointed it in his direction and moved into an attack position. The fake Oberon laughed and his eyes turned from cerulean to crimson. Putrid smoke belched from his nostrils and Titania gagged at the smell. Closing her mind from what she was about to do, Titania lunged with her weapon. The demon frowned and blocked her blow. A mighty growl emitted from his lips as he thrust forward with his own blade. It barely missed the faerie queen. She feinted right and the demon followed her movement. Without hesitation, she plunged her rapier through its heart. The demon fell to the ground, losing its shape as it went down.

Looking at it with pity, she pulled her blade away from its broken body before continuing on her journey. Through the dead forest, she marched forward. One of her generals flanked her side and asked if she needed a moment to rest and collect herself. Titania's snappish reply halted all further conversation. With her head held high, she pushed forward to fight the enemy as it approached. Her generals shared a look and a secret vow to protect their Queen with their dying breaths.

As the fight wore on, Titania had little time to think about anything other than the present. Around her, the battle sounds melted into a droning accompaniment to her fight. Flashes of light reflected off of her sword as she thrust it into the hearts of her enemy. Her very spirit pushed her onward to the center. She vowed to be victorious. There was no other option.

Time passed without notice until it seemed as if they had been fighting forever. Marching forward, they battled the enemy with increasing fervor. It was as if they could sense the end was near. Titania wasn't sure if it were hours or days until she finally could see an opening that would lead her directly to the center of the Labyrinth. Either way, it would all be over soon.

Looking back to her men, she raised her sword to the sky. "Onward, we march!"

Phelan watched closely as his troops continued their fight against the soldiers of Oberon. He'd been waiting for a chance to tip the scales in his favor for a very long time. In reality, he could care less about the agenda of the High King's bastard son. Bledig's mad crusade just gave him the opportunity to stir things up. With any luck, he'd end up on the right side and near the power players. If not, there'd be other chances to gain status. He was just so tired of being relegated to the bottom of the pecking order.

It had been all too easy to exploit the cracks in that woman. She'd been so bitter and angry at her lot in life, much like him. Without a single qualm, he filled her mind with a singular purpose: Revenge! He'd given her the words and she, like a dutiful sister, passed them on to his vulnerable nephew. When the young boy was no longer in short pants, he went in for the kill. Was it his fault that the boy was so easy to manipulate?

"My Lord," said one of the generals.

"Yes?"

"This dispatch was sent from the front."

Quickly tearing it open, Phelan read the contents and smiled. "Is this accurate?"

"Aye," the general affirmed.

"Wonderful news! Seems the tide is turning in our favor."

"Yes, now we just have the sons of Oberon. It shouldn't be hard to defeat someone who consorts with Mortals." The man's face twisted with disgust.

Phelan hadn't missed the way most of his allies talked about their Mortal cousins. It was this animosity towards Mortals that had been his opening. In truth, he didn't have any real feelings towards the lesser race. However, he'd seen others, through the years, with true hatred for them. As a man who observed everything, he had known that he could use their feelings to advance his position.

Many Fae had felt that Oberon had been getting soft in recent years. They'd seen his dalliances with Mortals and had been appalled by them. It was one thing to sleep with any Fae in a skirt, but it was a whole other to consort with someone beneath you. Once Jareth began to show those same tendencies, Phelan could see the small crack become a giant fissure. His manipulation moved to a whole new level. He could see the Goblin King's connection to his Champion. When he'd learned of Bledig's affair with the Nymph princess, he'd come up with a plan to exploit Jareth's pursuit of his Mortal love. The young man, full of his bitter mother's vitriol against Oberon, had latched onto the idea of retribution and power.

"You must give this news to His Excellence immediately," Phelan ordered, handing back the missive. The general saluted the older man and left to attend to his task. Phelan continued to watch the scene before him. Soon, he would get everything he had coming to him…and more.

Behind his army, Bledig watched as his allies cut down his enemies. Content to allow them to fight, he had yet to draw his sword. His generals came to give a battlefield report, but he waved them away. He had no desire to hear the casualties. He'd sacrifice every one of his men if it meant victory. One of his generals failed to move away and Bledig gave him a dark look.

"What the fuck do you want?"

"Your excellence, we have news."

A low growl emerged from the younger man's throat. "This had better be good or these words will be your last!"

The general looked visibly shaken before clearing his throat and soldiering on. "Oberon is dead."

Bledig's steady pace came to an abrupt halt. "Are you sure?"

"Most assuredly."

"Leave me!"

Without a word, the general took his leave. Bledig didn't even watch him go as he began to chuckle. The sound would have chilled the veins of anyone who heard. He may have begun this journey as a man bent on revenge, but along the way, he had fallen deeper into madness. Today, any trace of the man he used to be was gone. He was completely and totally insane.

"Well, my miserable excuse for a father, it seems that you weren't invincible after all. Your rein has come to an end and mine will soon begin. The rightful son will take his place as your successor. All my life, I've lived in the shadows, never receiving your love or even your recognition. How I hated you! Your death has set me free."

A voice broke him from his soliloquy. "My Lord, Bledig,"

Before the poor soldier could see it coming, a pair of hands wrapped themselves around his throat. His eyes implored the man to stop; that he had something important to say. Once he was sure he'd made his point, Bledig removed his hands and watched as the soldier slumped to the ground. Wheezing, he attempted to speak. Bledig watched him writhe while he inspected his fingernails, waiting for him to give him an explanation for the interruption.

"Well?" Bledig asked, his tone deceptively calm.

"M-m-my L-lord," he managed. "I-I have n-news f-f-from the front."

Bledig stared at the young man and frowned. "What news?"

"K-K-king J-Jareth."

Instantly, Bledig flew into a rage. "You dare mention his name in my presence?"

"S-s-sorry, My L-lord," the soldier cowered before Bledig, expecting his life to come to an abrupt end.

"I should kill you for this," Bledig snarled. "However, what about the late Goblin King?"

"He's leading the charge against us, My Lord."

"What?"

The man's visible trembling increased. "He's alive. I heard tell that his lady rescued him from the Underworld and now he is ready to take back his throne."

"IMPOSSIBLE!"

"I saw it with my own eyes," the man foolishly argued.

"If you're lying to me, your life is about to come to an excruciating end," Bledig warned.

The man began to sob. "I swear, I'm telling the truth."

Bledig summoned a crystal to his hand and peered into its glittering surface. It took a moment for an image to appear. Bledig wished to reject what his eyes were telling him, but it was undeniable. Reflected in his crystal was none other than Jareth. He was fighting next to Sarah and it was clear that he was determined to be victorious. Well, so was Bledig. He crushed the crystal with his hand, tearing the flesh of his palm. Blood, red and warm, began to flow from his clenched fist.

"Get away from me," he ordered. The young soldier was quick to obey, leaving Bledig alone once again. "It seems I still have one thing left in my way. Your golden son has gotten his very last chance. No more! I will find him, gut him, and piss on his remains. But first, I'll dispatch with his mortal whore. Make him watch as the life drains from her body under my hand. I would have like to have used her first, but I'll settle for a taste of her blood. Today, this ends once and for all!"

Drawing his sword, he ran through his men. Bledig scarcely noticed their presence. His mind was focused and nothing else mattered. One of the sons of Oberon was going to meet his end. Bledig vowed to make Jareth pay. The time of reckoning had come.

It was a rare occasion in the Beyond where you would see Neit and Eriu together. However, today was such a day. The God of War and the Goddess of Peace were watching the events unfolding in the Underground. With every victory came a happy shout and every defeat an angry growl. Who would win their epic battle? Only Dagda knew and Gods knew he wasn't about to tell his headstrong children.

"I have a feeling you are not going to like the results, my dear sister," Neit bragged, watching Oberon as he fell to the ground.

Eriu rolled her beautiful emerald eyes to the sky. "It's not over yet, dear brother. Look!"

They both watched as Titania pulled herself up and continued onward. Neit scoffed, "she'll never make it to the center of the Labyrinth. The bastard son is too powerful."

"If you say so," Eriu replied. "Since you're so sure about it, why don't we up the stakes?"

"How interesting," Neit laughed.

"Double or nothing?"

"You're on."

Beads of sweat dripped down Sulwyn's heated skin. The muscles in his bicep strained to continue wielding his sword. His heart pounded in his chest, beating a rhythm that suggested a single name: Sarah. He had to keep moving forward. She needed him, which meant he couldn't give up. It just wasn't an option.

His mind wandered over his favorite memory of Sarah. The weather had been unseasonably warm and they decided to go for a walk. With no destination in mind, they'd wandered through her park just talking. He had said something to her and she let out peals of bell-like laughter. The look on her face was one of unabashed joy. Sulwyn had felt a sense of pride at being the one to make her smile and a sense of hope for their future. Now, they were fighting a deadly battle and, even if he should make it through, she'd be off-limits to him for the rest of eternity.

A single voice broke through his reverie. "Your Highness."

Sulwyn turned to see one of his generals flanking his side. "What is it? I'm a little busy." He made a show of running through another mountain troll.

"Your father wanted me to show you the latest dispatch."

A large piece of parchment was thrust into his hand. Without another word, the general went back to leading his troop and Sylwyn was alone. Dropping back behind his men, he unfurled the communiqué and began to read. His shoulders slumped as comprehension dawned. It was a casualty list and the numbers were massive.

Crumpling the paper, he tossed it to the ground and made his way back to the front. Now was not the time to begin mourning. He had to maintain focus. After the war was over, he'd grieve for all of the fallen. Until then, he'd have to keep fighting. He'd use this as motivation to get to the center. Sulwyn would not let their deaths be in vain.

"I see the center," called one of the fighting soldiers ahead.

"Keep up the fight," Sylwyn urged. He battled his way forward and through the opening to the center of the Labyrinth. To his horror, the unbelievable was unfolding before his eyes.

"Sarah, watch out!"

Eurwyn absently wiped at his forehead with his left hand. He was getting tired. Several hours of nonstop battle was starting to wear on him. His brother's castle loomed in the distance, mocking him in his progress. Thrusting forward with his sword, he cut down another Orc. He'd lost count of the number of the creatures he had slain. They were relentless in their quest to destroy his troops. Whenever one fell, another would take its place.

The one thought that carried him forward was that this would be over soon. One way or another, he would help his brother to victory. Jareth could return to his kingdom and become the Goblin King once again and his life could resume some sense of normalcy. Unfortunately, that also meant that Eurwyn would have to return to his lonely existence. Jareth had Sarah, but who would be there for Eurwyn? The loss of his best friend was wearing heavily on his heart. How could he have been so easily betrayed?

"Your Majesty," came an excited voice.

Eurwyn turned to look as one of Jareth's goblins made his approach. "Yes, what is it?"

"We are nearing the Goblin City. What should we do?"

"Continue the fight and look for Bledig."

"Aye, Your Majesty," Michl replied, saluting him before leaving to tell the others.

Hoggle, overhearing the conversation, turned to Sir Didymus. "Did ya hears that?"

"Verily, Sir Hoggle. I shall hunt down that knave."

"Yeah, yeah," Hoggle scoffed.

"Ludo tired," moaned the beast.

Hoggle rolled his eyes. "We're all tired."

"We must soldier on, my brother," added Sir Didymus, waving his blade above his head.

"Watch where you point that thing!" Hoggle growled, ducking as the blade nearly sliced into his arm.

Sir Didymus tipped his head and bowed to the dwarf. "My apologies."

"Brother sorry," moaned Ludo.

Hoggle snorted and groaned. "Nevermind. Let's just get goin' now. The sooner we get this done, the sooner we can goes home."

"CHARGE!" yelled Sir Didymus, nearly knocking Hoggle off of his feet as he ran by him.

Hoggle shook his fist at the fox terrier before finding himself laying on the ground when Ludo ambled by to catch up with his "brother." He debated just staying put before Sarah's face came to mind. Putting aside his frustration, he shook his head. He couldn't give up when his Sarah needed him. Though a coward by nature, she never treated him as such. She was his best friend and greatest supporter. Her love could make anyone face their greatest fears.

Picking himself off of the ground, he began to run forward with his own blade. "I'm coming, Sarah!"

Sarah's arm throbbed with every exertion. Fatigue was beginning to set in and she was starting to lose hope. The castle still looked so far away. She wanted to cry, but knew she didn't have the luxury of tears. If she were to allow the tears to flow, they would never stop. Her only choice was to continue on until she achieved victory or death.

"Sarah," a voice hummed in her ear. She looked to the side, but was unable to see the source of the strange sound.

"What the…"

"Sarah," the voice repeated. It was then she recognized the dual tone.

"Maggie?"

"I'm here."

Sarah whirled around to see her old friend. "What are you doing here?"

"Be careful," Maggie warned, ignoring the question.

"Of what?" Sarah asked.

"You must remain on your guard, for the evil one approaches."

Sarah blanched. "Bledig?"

Maggie nodded, solemnly. "You'll know what to do when the time comes."

"What to do?" Sarah asked.

"We will be there for you."

"When?"

"As the world falls down," Maggie replied, disappearing back into the chaos.

"Sarah, watch out!" cried Sulwyn, as he joined them at the center of the Labyrinth.

Sarah was startled by the urgency in his voice. She realized that, in her exchange with Maggie, she had completely forgotten that there was a battle ensuing. Looking around, she noticed that she was unprotected. Her eyes darted to the right as a glint of light attracted her attention. The breath left her lungs and her heart dropped to her stomach. Before her, Bledig stood with his sword at the ready.

Her world slowed as she prepared herself for her demise. She saw Jareth's stricken face as he watched, too late and too far to save her. Her sword clanged to the stones below when her fingers opened of their own volition. As he reared his arm back to thrust his sword through her heart, she closed her eyes.

"Sarah!" shouted Sulwyn and Jareth in unison. They sounded so alike in their despair.

"No!"

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