Of Diviners and Goblins
Chapter II
By Sailor Northstar
Disclaimer: Same as before, I don't own anyting pertaining to Labyrinth. Galadrea and company are mine, just like this story. Enjoy!
"I've come to free you."
No words had ever shocked the King of the Goblins as the ones that came from the young half-elven mage's mouth. For a long minute, neither could talk, and to Jareth, it seemed as if the girl-No, young woman now,- had also been taken off guard at her reply. Lifting a hand, he gestured at the wards on the walls. Galadrea nodded.
Taking out a pouch, she carefully went around and dusted each of the warding glyphs with a pinch of the powder. One by one the illumination they cast flickered out, and finally died. As she finished, Gala stepped back. "Well?" she asked, uncertain of what to do next. She needn't have worried.
Walking quickly, the Goblin King crossed the boundaries of what had just a few minutes ago been his prison. "Thank you, my dear. Now, if you could show me the way out of this beastly place, I'll be on my way," he commanded, in a hushed voice. A frown came across Gala's face as something clicked in the back of her mind.
"Jareth, why didn't you use your powers to escape?"
With a sigh, Jareth ran his pale hands through his hair, absently smoothing it into a semblence of its former appearance. "Something has stolen my powers. I only have those small magic powers that I've just begun to master," he said, steeling himself for the laughter that he was sure would come.
Galadrea sighed, and seemed resigned. "I see you too are affected by the wrath of Ao," Gala remarked as she handed the travelling cloak to Jareth.
"The wrath of Ao? Who is this Ao?" he asked, frowning. This was not good. What does she mean, me too? Is there something wrong with the magic on Toril? That would explain a lot...
Peeking out the door to make sure no-one was coming, Gala motioned for the king to follow her. "Ao is the supreme overgod, the one who rules ALL of the gods of Toril. It was only found out earlier today that Ao has banished all of the Gods to mortal form, bereft of powers and memories, except for who they once were. Because the gods of magic are among those punished, no mage has been able to safely cast spells, and no-one, not even Anshii herself, is able to determine how long this'll last." Swiftly, King and Mage made their way through the corridors, ducking into a side passage every now and then to avoid notice.
"Who is this Anshii? And I was attacked by a creature calling herself Mystra before I awoke in the tower library," he replied as he followed her across the courtyard, leaping from shadow to shadow.
Grinning, Galadrea happily answered his question. "Anshii's a woman from another world in the multiverse. She's been on Toril for about two years now, and is already extremely powerful. She studied with Master Khelban Arunsun of Waterdeep. If anyone could find a way to get your original powers back, she can. And if she can't, she can probably direct us to someone who can."
Finally reaching the gate, Galadrea handed a backpack to Jareth, then shouldered her own. Checking her belt, she reassured herself that her knife was in its proper place. "Come on, we'll pick up some supplies in the village. Keep your hood up, and we shouldn't attract to much notice."
Jareth frowned, but followed her instructions. "And what do you think you are doing, pretty one?" he asked. She's got to be up to something. There is no reason for her to help me, he wondered, and he reached out to grab her arm.
Gala shook his hand off and pulled her own hood up. "Isn't it obvious, Jareth?" she said, sarcasm in her voice. "You have no powers, and are stuck with an unreliable collection of beginning mage spells and cantrips. You know no one and nothing at all about the wilds of Toril. Any questions? No? Then let's go!" Without further ado, she began to follow the road. Swearing under his breath, Jareth followed, knowing she was right.
By the time the two travellers had reached the village, first light had just appeared over the tips of the mountains that ringed the eastern wall of the valler. In the village, people were already up and about, the bustle of early morning haveing started about an hour before dawn. Suddenly the two travellers heard a growl. Jareth colored slightly, to Galadrea's amusement. "Hungry?" she asked playfully.
"Very much so, Gala," he growled back. "Isn't there a place to eat around here?" Smirking much like he did, Galadrea pointed to a large, four-story building that spread out over quite an expanse of ground.
"That's the local tavern and inn. We can get something to eat there, and after that, we'll drop by the weapon shop. Are you proficient with any sort of weapon, You Majesty she asked, mockingly.
Scowling, Jareth started for the inn. "I am a master swordsman, woman, though it has been many centuries since I actually have had to use it practically." So intent on his injured ego, he didn't see Galadrea smile in relief, nor hear her words.
"At least we're not totally dependant on my magic..."
The inside of the inn was already full of patrons. It was undeniably a nice inn, from what Jareth could see. The support structure were decorated with scrolling designs so that they resembled wooden columns. The bar was of polished wood, that seemed to shine with an inner light. It was very clean and well-kept, the stairs leading to the upper levels were in good repair too. Various people wandered about and mingled, some greeting Galadrea by name.
As they moved to the bar, a youngish-looking elven male appeared as if by magic. "Morning, Galadrea!" he said, using her entire elvish name. "What brings you and your friend by so early?"
Galadrea smiled and happily replied, "A quick breakfast, Valindaro. This is Jareth, who's my companion on the road this time." Jareth slid the hood of his cloak down and shook his hair free. Valindaro appeared startled at his appearance, but the shook his head and sighed.
"You have absolutely no idea what you are getting yourself into, young man. Our Galadrea is notorious for the level of danger her adventures rate," the elven innkeeper warned, a hint of a smile on his face as Jareth bristled at being called 'young man'.
As if sensing the trouble about to brew, Galadrea discreetly stepped on the king's foot. Shooting her a nasty glare, he took the hint. "Oh, I think I can handle it. It is my duty to keep her out of harms way," he replied, taking a little satisfaction when Galadrea flushed an ugly red.
"We'll talk about this later, Jareth," she said, putting mocking emphasis on his name. Rolling his eyes, Valindaro smiled again and went to get some food for them. Jareth slid from the bar and headed for a table in the back, leaving Gala to stumble her way through the crowd.
Throwing herself into her chair, she gave Jareth a tight smile. "What was THAT all about," she demanded, keeping a smile on her face as she leaned close.
"I do NOT take kindly to being called 'young man'. I am FAR older than that young pup of an elf," Jareth replied, not bothering to smile, though he did keep his voice lowered. Galadrea raised an eyebrow.
"Valindaro is almost 900 years old Jareth," she replied, feeling triumph as his mouth dropped open. "He is extremely ancient for a gold elf, most of whom only live 7 or 8 centuries maximum. He has seen much, and even if you are older, I doubt your life experiences match up to his!" Galadrea finished, just as a halfling bar maid brought their breakfast. Before she left, the halfling maid threw Jareth a quick wink. Galadrea erupted in giggles at Jareth's astonished face. Utterly silent, the goblin king attacked his food with voracious hunger. They ate in companiable silence for about an hour.
Finally, when both had eaten their fill, Jareth turned to Galadrea. "Now, where's this weapon shop?"
The weapon shop was filled with weapons of every kind, ranging from the common longsword and dagger, to a very expensive collection of exotic weapons from as far away as Kara-Tur. As he entered the shop behind Gala, Jareth felt a hint of exitement run through his veins, much like he had as a young man, before he had taken the throne. Briefly, his memories faded back to those long-gone days of carefree adventure. Shaking his head to clear it of the dim memories, he found Galadrea smiling gently at him.
"Fond memories?" she asked softly. A true small, small but a smile none-the-less, came to his lips.
"Yes, fond memories," he replied. Looking around, he walked straight to a display that had caught his eye. The sword was a magnificent piece of work. The pommel was black, decorated with a simple piece of leather to enhance the grip. The hilt was in the shape of a curving gold dragon, the tail of which trailed onto the pommel, with the wings forming the crosspiece. At the base of the blade itself was a dragon's head, cunningly placed so that the blade appeared to be coming from the golden dragon. "Magnificent!" he whispered in awe.
Grinning, Galadrea motioned over the shopkeeper, a burly dwarf with a beard of white tucked into his belt. "That sword is of two makes, sir," he growled in a gruff voice. "The blade was forged in Mithril Hall, while the hilt and pommel were crafted by an elvish master in far-off Silverymoon. Notice the excellent workmanship of the dragon?"
"How much?" Galadrea asked, and Jareth looked over at her in shock. The dwarf got a crafty look on his face as he slipped into bargaining mode.
"For such craftmanship, 300 gold!" Galadrea appeared shocked and enraged.
"Nonsense! That sword is of two works,like you said. If it had been made completely in Mithril Hall, perhaps it would be work HALF as much as you want. As it is, it is only worth 100 gp!"
Galadrea smiled inwardly at the Goblin King's look of surprise. Then she turned her attention back to the dwarf, who was sputtering indignantely, though he had a sligh gleam of enjoyment in his eyes.
"Hmmm. How about this, for a mage of the Tower, I'll give you a special deal. 275 gp, and a casting of a spell!" Jareth then realized that both Galadrea and the dwarf were actually enjoying the haggling. Galadrea had that gleam of challenge in her eye that he had seen only once before, and that as she was first looking over the labyrinth. He turned away to hide a smile from the dwarf. The little man wasn't even going to know what hit him.
While the haggling went on, punctuated by insults on each other's heritages, Jareth took a few practice swings with the blade, feeling its weight and balance, which was almost perfect. As he closed his eyes, he felt his arms begin to move in a rhythm he though he had long forgotten. So deep in memory was he, that he didn't even notice that Galadrea and the shop keeper had stopped their arguing and were watching him in amazement and appreciation.
"He certainly handles the blade well, young woman," the dwarf whispered, admiration in his voice. "It's a gift for him, you say?"
Galadrea nodded, her eyes never leaving Jareth's form as he went through a practice cadence. "Yes. It's a way of saying thank-you in return for a favor I don't even think he knows he gave me."
Sighing in resignation, the dwarf turned to Galadrea. "Very well, girl. The sword is his, for 125 gp. However, I expect the two of you to give me an account of the full adventure when you return, understand?" Smiling, Galadrea handed over the amount.
"Thank's Zador. You can bet I'll tell you everything that happened once I return." Hrmphing to himself, Zador smiled.
"Hey you!" he called out, and Jareth suddenly snapped out of his trance. At his quizzical glance, the dwarf continued. "You take good care of her, understand? Make that sword's makers proud or I'll hunt you down and use your hide for the grip for the next axe I forge!"
"Have no worries, shopkeeper. This sword will be put to good use, that I can guarantee you!" With a nod, he sheathed the sword, and buckled the swordbelt around his waist. "Ready?" the king asked Gala, looking at her with a strange glint in his eyes.
Galadrea nodded. "Let's go. We should be able to make it to Nesme within a week, and from there to Anshii's dwelling. Nodding their appreciation to Zador, Jareth and Galadrea left the old dwarfs shop. After they had gone, Zador shook his head sadly.
"Watch out for each other, you two. No telling what's going to happen, and I don't fancy thinking about a future without the two of you somewhere in it." With a sigh, Zador went back to engraving the dagger he had been working on.
I'm with Zador. I'll hear all about it when you get back, if you survive long enough...