Title: Ace of Spades, Part Five
Author: Silverstar Wizard
Disclaimer: The usual…blah, blah, blah. I don't own Labyrinth. Labyrinth belongs to Jim Henson, so does basically everything else in this story. The canoe is a registered trademark of Cheese, Inc. (Just checking…)
Author's Note: Towards the end, Jareth does some explaining on my behalf. A certain someone is beginning to annoy me…
Seven
Later that evening, Jareth sat in his throne room, watching as some of the goblins roasted a chicken over a large fire in the pit in the center of the room. It had taken them quite a long time to figure out that the fire was actually necessary. That is, if they wanted the chicken to cook. For about three hours, they had sat around the pit, watching the spitted bird, and waiting for it to cook. None of them had noticed that nothing was actually happening. But every one of them had had such a look of euphoric anticipation on its face, that eventually Jareth had given in and lit the fire for them, as a friendly gesture.
He wished now that he hadn't. As the chicken came closer and closer to being done, the goblins had begun to fight noisily over who got to eat which bits of it. They scrambled around the throne room, bumping into one another and beating each other with their spears. Every so often, one of them would get hit hard enough to send it skidding across the floor and into the wall, in which case it would sit down for a second, shake its head to clear it, and throw itself back into the fight. Interestingly enough, there seemed to be a widespread belief among them that the feet were the tastiest bits, a belief that Jareth didn't feel he could be bothered to correct.
A few more minutes elapsed, and the goblins closest to the fire decided that they had waited long enough. With a mad pounding of feet, all the goblins present stampeded towards the fire pit. The only thing Jareth was able to see, before the crowd of goblins became to thick for him to see through, was the chicken flying through the air and subsequently being ripped into very small pieces.
Although the goblins' eating habits repulsed him, the thought and smell of roasted chicken reminded Jareth of how hungry he was. Ignoring a rather undignified rumble from his stomach, he gave some attention to the matter or dinner. He couldn't remember when he had last eaten, but it must have been before he had gone to visit Sarah in her bedroom.
At the thought of Sarah, his stomach suddenly twisted. All his appetite was gone as he remembered how she had slapped him. How dared she! He unconsciously raised a hand to feel along his cheekbone where she had struck him. During the course of the day, a dark purple bruise had appeared there, and the entire side of his face was sore. It was a terrible blow to his pride and vexed him to no end. To think that a mere Aboveground child had been able to play with him and embarrass him like that.
He sighed, and started walking in the direction of his own room. He should know better than to let that sort of thing happen by now. Hadn't he gone through this before? Gone through it with the same girl, no less? Mentally chastising himself for baring his soul twice to the same unfeeling wench, he furrowed his brow and devoted his few minutes before sleep to following her progress through the Bog of Eternal Stench. He would have to be more careful with his feelings from now on.
Jareth seated himself in a chair by his window and watched in one of his crystals as Sarah searched with Arthur for a way across the Bog. There was no Ludo, this time, to call up stepping-stones from the earth, and the fox's small bridge had never been repaired. The two travelers were going to have their work cut out for them. The image in the crystal swirled and clouded over. Jareth swung his legs over the arm of the chair and encased the shining sphere in his hands, long fingers entwining over its surface so that only isolated light rays were let through. He played with the light for a minute, shifting his hands to see where he could make the rays fall. Concentrating hard, he summoned his magic and extended the light to reach the far corners of the Labyrinth. He couldn't see Sarah, but he could sense her, and he knew what she was feeling. She was fearful, worried, yet confident, and determined to win again.
"Beware, Sarah," he said quietly. "You haven't begun to realize just what cards I am capable of hiding up my sleeve. You and I are going to play a game, together. And I think you will enjoy playing by my rules." He smiled ominously and dispensed of the crystal.
Laughing to himself, he pulled himself out of the chair and walked to the window with his hands behind his back. The Underground sky was a beautiful mix of blues, purples and silver, and Jareth couldn't help but find it breathtaking, even after centuries of ruling there. Sarah had been right in her appraisal of the Labyrinth: it did keep changing. It was never the same for very long, and it made for an exciting life.
An exciting life, Jareth thought. Heh. Really, now, that seems a bit like wishful thinking. I can't even successfully seduce a lonely teenager. Whatever happened to the Goblin King who first took the throne all those years ago? The dashing young chap who always had a girl hanging on each arm?
He couldn't help but smile as he recalled his younger self. Well, younger in terms of mental age. He must have been…oh, about a hundred. He had stopped counting his age back at 548. It got to be depressing, trying to orchestrate birthday celebrations for one's quadricentennial, and so forth.
But Sarah…Sarah was something different, wasn't she? Jareth thought, not without a certain regret, about the rather awkward setup he'd had to devise to get her to the Labyrinth in the first. He thought it had been very clever at first, to play off her love of fantasy stories. Helping King Arthur defeat the same Goblin King she herself had defeated only six months before was an offer she would be unable to refuse. She would come to his kingdom, where he held the ultimate power, and he would make her see his side of things. He loved her; he might as well admit it. Insanely, irrationally, and against his better judgment. Oh well.
All's fair in love and war, I suppose.
Jareth tore himself away from the window, stripping off his shirt as he crossed to his bed. He tossed it into a corner and sat down on the edge of the bed, then snuffed the candle on the bedside table before settling himself under the blankets. A thin stream of gray smoke rose from the extinguished candle as Jareth drifted off to sleep.
Author: Silverstar Wizard
Disclaimer: The usual…blah, blah, blah. I don't own Labyrinth. Labyrinth belongs to Jim Henson, so does basically everything else in this story. The canoe is a registered trademark of Cheese, Inc. (Just checking…)
Author's Note: Towards the end, Jareth does some explaining on my behalf. A certain someone is beginning to annoy me…
Seven
Later that evening, Jareth sat in his throne room, watching as some of the goblins roasted a chicken over a large fire in the pit in the center of the room. It had taken them quite a long time to figure out that the fire was actually necessary. That is, if they wanted the chicken to cook. For about three hours, they had sat around the pit, watching the spitted bird, and waiting for it to cook. None of them had noticed that nothing was actually happening. But every one of them had had such a look of euphoric anticipation on its face, that eventually Jareth had given in and lit the fire for them, as a friendly gesture.
He wished now that he hadn't. As the chicken came closer and closer to being done, the goblins had begun to fight noisily over who got to eat which bits of it. They scrambled around the throne room, bumping into one another and beating each other with their spears. Every so often, one of them would get hit hard enough to send it skidding across the floor and into the wall, in which case it would sit down for a second, shake its head to clear it, and throw itself back into the fight. Interestingly enough, there seemed to be a widespread belief among them that the feet were the tastiest bits, a belief that Jareth didn't feel he could be bothered to correct.
A few more minutes elapsed, and the goblins closest to the fire decided that they had waited long enough. With a mad pounding of feet, all the goblins present stampeded towards the fire pit. The only thing Jareth was able to see, before the crowd of goblins became to thick for him to see through, was the chicken flying through the air and subsequently being ripped into very small pieces.
Although the goblins' eating habits repulsed him, the thought and smell of roasted chicken reminded Jareth of how hungry he was. Ignoring a rather undignified rumble from his stomach, he gave some attention to the matter or dinner. He couldn't remember when he had last eaten, but it must have been before he had gone to visit Sarah in her bedroom.
At the thought of Sarah, his stomach suddenly twisted. All his appetite was gone as he remembered how she had slapped him. How dared she! He unconsciously raised a hand to feel along his cheekbone where she had struck him. During the course of the day, a dark purple bruise had appeared there, and the entire side of his face was sore. It was a terrible blow to his pride and vexed him to no end. To think that a mere Aboveground child had been able to play with him and embarrass him like that.
He sighed, and started walking in the direction of his own room. He should know better than to let that sort of thing happen by now. Hadn't he gone through this before? Gone through it with the same girl, no less? Mentally chastising himself for baring his soul twice to the same unfeeling wench, he furrowed his brow and devoted his few minutes before sleep to following her progress through the Bog of Eternal Stench. He would have to be more careful with his feelings from now on.
Jareth seated himself in a chair by his window and watched in one of his crystals as Sarah searched with Arthur for a way across the Bog. There was no Ludo, this time, to call up stepping-stones from the earth, and the fox's small bridge had never been repaired. The two travelers were going to have their work cut out for them. The image in the crystal swirled and clouded over. Jareth swung his legs over the arm of the chair and encased the shining sphere in his hands, long fingers entwining over its surface so that only isolated light rays were let through. He played with the light for a minute, shifting his hands to see where he could make the rays fall. Concentrating hard, he summoned his magic and extended the light to reach the far corners of the Labyrinth. He couldn't see Sarah, but he could sense her, and he knew what she was feeling. She was fearful, worried, yet confident, and determined to win again.
"Beware, Sarah," he said quietly. "You haven't begun to realize just what cards I am capable of hiding up my sleeve. You and I are going to play a game, together. And I think you will enjoy playing by my rules." He smiled ominously and dispensed of the crystal.
Laughing to himself, he pulled himself out of the chair and walked to the window with his hands behind his back. The Underground sky was a beautiful mix of blues, purples and silver, and Jareth couldn't help but find it breathtaking, even after centuries of ruling there. Sarah had been right in her appraisal of the Labyrinth: it did keep changing. It was never the same for very long, and it made for an exciting life.
An exciting life, Jareth thought. Heh. Really, now, that seems a bit like wishful thinking. I can't even successfully seduce a lonely teenager. Whatever happened to the Goblin King who first took the throne all those years ago? The dashing young chap who always had a girl hanging on each arm?
He couldn't help but smile as he recalled his younger self. Well, younger in terms of mental age. He must have been…oh, about a hundred. He had stopped counting his age back at 548. It got to be depressing, trying to orchestrate birthday celebrations for one's quadricentennial, and so forth.
But Sarah…Sarah was something different, wasn't she? Jareth thought, not without a certain regret, about the rather awkward setup he'd had to devise to get her to the Labyrinth in the first. He thought it had been very clever at first, to play off her love of fantasy stories. Helping King Arthur defeat the same Goblin King she herself had defeated only six months before was an offer she would be unable to refuse. She would come to his kingdom, where he held the ultimate power, and he would make her see his side of things. He loved her; he might as well admit it. Insanely, irrationally, and against his better judgment. Oh well.
All's fair in love and war, I suppose.
Jareth tore himself away from the window, stripping off his shirt as he crossed to his bed. He tossed it into a corner and sat down on the edge of the bed, then snuffed the candle on the bedside table before settling himself under the blankets. A thin stream of gray smoke rose from the extinguished candle as Jareth drifted off to sleep.