Disclaimer: not mine, copyright Labyrinth Enterprises (at least, that's what it says on my copy of the movie), and Monty Python and the Holy Grail', copyright The National Film Trustee Corporation Limited. No copyright infringement intended. Not making money of this. Thank you Mr. Jim Henson way up high for creating such loveliness, thank you Pythons for being so marvelously loony.
The song is the first verse of Marble Halls by Enya of the Shepherd Moons album.
The "poem" comes from the last verse of "Under Pressure", of Mr. David Bowie and Queen. So does the title of this chapter. Thought they were fitting. No copyright infringement intended. Just being an inspired fan here.
Enjoy
Ramowen
Diamond Tears
4. Why can't we give love one more chance?
"I dreamt I dwelt in marble halls
"With vassals and serfs at my side.
"And of all who assembled within those walls
"That I was the hope and the pride
"I had riches all too great to count
"And a high ancestral name.
"But I also dreamt which pleased me most
"That you loved me still the same,
"That you loved me
"You loved me still the same,
"That you loved me
"You loved me still the same
"Mother."
Jareth's deceivingly gentle voice could have cut crystal with its cold intensity. It cut the haunting song his mother sang whilst accompanying herself on her harp. Light fell brightly through the tall windows of the large circular room. The walls were supposed to be white, but almost all free space had been taken by paintings made by one hand only. They depicted melancholic saccharine scenes of a family with young children, visions of woodlands and waterfalls. Many tender portraits of a ginger hared blue eyed Fay, smiling, playing, fighting, sleeping.
One self-portrait- radiating darkness.
An easel carried an apparently unfinished work, covered with cloth and surrounded with thousands of clay pots containing any shade of color light could capture. When the Fay Queen stopped playing, the little pots started to move and scrape over the wooden floor, constantly trying to rearrange themselves according to spectrum. But they could never decide on witch one. A large oak desk stood on the far side of the room, manuscripts in a chaotic heap on top and spilled over to the floor. Here the Queen composed her music and poetry. It had never been in such disarray and in spite of himself Jareth grew a little worried at the sight of the mess his mother had made of the work she valued so. Her paintings and writings, so she claimed, were all she had left. The statement still pained the boy inside the King he had forced into hiding.
Here in this shrine to the family both he and the Queen had lost, as always Jareth was assaulted by the images of days past and hardened himself against them.
The slender woman stood and went to the window. She faced the Labyrinth outside, not the mystery that was her child. Her pale champagne colored curls cascaded to the floor. She had been a fairy of fire and light- yet she still choose to dress in the colors woven from a silken moonless the night and without even a star to highlight it's collar.
The only jewel she allowed herself was the upturned silver sickle shaped ornament on her forehead, the horn-like coat of arms of her late husband's house. The same the Goblin King had dangling on his chest. The same her Erkon had used to wear.
"Still the shades of night, mother?" Jareth asked casually. He stood there leaning in the doorframe, pretending to inspect his crystal knobbed walking-stick.
"The woman-child is back."
"What?" Jareth straitened in surprise and quickly yet tightly controlled he walked over to the Queen.
Azurmandi indicated the Labyrinth. "The one you allow in."
"What do you know of her." It was not a question, but a demand for information.
"Don't be obtuse, boy."
Jareth carefully gave no further outward reaction. So Azurmandi knew. Jareth however was not surprised by his mothers' knowledge, only by her interest in something outside this room. And something concerning him, no less. In that same soft restrained voice he asked:
"What of her, mother."
Azurmandi turned. "She is both beautiful and strong. I have dreamt about her."
Jareth only raised his brows.
"What are your plans towards this child."
"She amuses me."
"More fool you." The Queen indicated the mess at her desk. "I have been looking for something your father once wrote me."
Jareth sighed. He was a bit too old for being reproached over how to handle his toy's, now wasn't he?
"You don't say."
From her sleeve Azurmandi took a small scrap of parchment.
"Read."
Showing indifference only, Jareth took the small poem and red, while his mother went to her latest painting. She stood there, waiting. Nervously fingering the cloth that covered it. Jareth did not notice, but stared at the words.
"Cause love's such an old fashioned word
"And love dares you to care
"For people on the edge of the night
"And love dares you to change our way
"Of caring about ourselves
"This is our last dance
"This is our last dance
"What is the meaning of this?"
"Are you not happy to reclaim something of him?"
Jareth bowed his head and sighed. "I never voluntarily claimed anything of his!"
"I know."
Azurmandi's voice broke, she inhaled sharply, holding part of the cloth up like a shield, swallowing hard and near to tears.
Jareth again followed her trough the room. He felt a pain inside him that made speech hard. But then he did speak and gave a deadpan answer.
"Finally."
The mother looked up at him.
"You were so -cold- Jareth. So terribly distant. You kept something hidden from me- you still do. Something important that weighed heavily on your heart. It still does. But I never saw how much this pained you, now did I?"
The last the Goblin King had expected from today were words showing the beginning of understanding- not from her. The little boy inside was kicking at his ribcage, making it hard to breathe or speak. Making it hard to slowly follow the Queen trough the room instead of rushing at her. The little boy yearned to hold her. The embittered man would not.
"It does not matter, mother. It is the past."
"No." She shook her head. "And yes. It is this past that obstructs your future. And mine."
Jareth held out the poem to her. "The meaning of this?"
"You need to change, my son. You need to let go of the chill that has frozen you."
Jareth smiled, his mismatched eyes hard. "An old song, mother. One you told me yourself you believed impossible."
The Queen cringed. "Those were terribly cruel words to say to you. And I wish you could at least feel anger when giving them back to me."
Jareth gave a cold unbelieving chuckle in answer. He made a little bow, indicating he had wasted enough of his time and was ready to take his leave of her. Inside he felt as if standing in the heart of a hurricane, total turmoil. For nearly three hundred years this woman had either accused or ignored him. He should be curious at least to learn what prompted her current behavior. All he wanted was to leave her to the non-existence she had chosen, hidden behind the castle walls.
Azurmandi would not let him go. All outward signs of emotion erased from her equally composed features.
"We are cowards both, Jareth. We are both on suspended on the edge of night."
"I hardly believe father meant that."
"I have however seen hope for you."
Jareth's smile grew to a toothy grin, openly displaying disbelieve. Azurmandi pulled away the cloth from her painting. Jareth's mouth fell open and he was drawn to the picture like moth to flame.
Sarah's dream. The dream he had lured her into with the poisoned peach.
Sarah. Lovely Sarah in her gown of white satin, slipping away, turning from him. Turning towards the edge of the bubble moments before crashing it with that damned chair. And Jareth saw himself watching her leave. Struck with the haunted, desperate and lonely expression on his captured features.
This was not true- this was -not- how it had been! He had merely taunted her, merely delayed her! It had been part of his riddles, nothing more.
But why then, could he not stop his hand from touching the girls painted features?
"Go to her, my son. Stop playing these silly games with her. Don't deny yourself the happiness I know you -will- find with her."
"How could you know that?" he whispered.
"I saw you two dance, Jareth. I saw how she looked at you."
"How could you see! You invaded her!"
"So- you can feel -some- genuine anger after all."
"You will let her be!" he hissed.
"So protective."
"I am not-" Jareth could not speak for a moment, but it was true. He felt oddly protective towards the girl. And jealous of her affections towards others."
"She is just a beautiful child."
"A flower you would have plucked under any other circumstance. I know you, my son. You are a hedonist with very little restraint."
Jareth turned to her, furious. "What in Hades are you accusing me of, -mother-! She is a child! She was too young!"
"She might be still. Humans are quite different. But making her run through the maze won't help you."
Jareth's posture gone, his hand tracing the contours of the painted image, terribly lost.
"I just wanted-"
Azurmandi waited him out, said nothing. Jareth broke free from the painting and turned to her. "I just wanted her -near-."
For the first time in three hundred years Azurmandi and Jareth truly looked each other in the eye and acknowledged each other's grief.
"Jareth, I -am- reaching out to you. Please, for both our sakes and especially for your own, dare to change."
"I-" Jareth shook his head.
Azurmandi sighed. "You are so stubborn sometimes, just like your father."
"Get the reigns!" screamed Sarah, rubbing the back of her head, which had met with the bottom of the cart rather roughly.
"Awwww!" moaned Hoggle, holding on tight for dear life, hugging the side of the cart. He was paralyzed with fear and dizzy with the speed the cart had developed. Everything outside was a burr of colors, undistinguishable. Fighting his vertigo took all the dwarf had.
But not brave and rash Sir Didymus. He jumped on the box, held himself steady with one hand and grasped for the dangling leather straps with the other. A little half remembered song was in his sensitive ears for a moment- something about queens and sunlight. Suddenly, the reigns jumped into his paw. The knight pulled them hard, squealed as he himself was pulled from the box by the movement of the horses and screamed even harder when Sarah pulled him back again just in time by grabbing the tip of his tail. But even with the reins in hand, however hard the two friends pulled, they had no mastery over the horses what so ever. The horses did however calm down a bit and the surroundings the tree found themselves in became somewhat recognizable.
They thundered through a barren wilderness of rock and low mountains. Mosses seemingly the only thing that grew here. The landscape changed into broken and battered cliffs, the rubble thrown up by the hoofs pelting down on the now weary travelers.
And on they went, till finally the axle broke under the violence of the journey and the three unhappy passengers where thrown out of the cart head over heels, while the Aughiskies sped on mindlessly.
While Sarah was thrown from the cart, she fully expected to die. She expected to land on her scull, feel it crack and she waited for pain and something like a life flashing before her eyes-
Instead of all that, Sarah found herself back suspended in mid air- an arms-length above the stony path the cart had traveled.
"What the-"
"I say, this is unexpected, what?"
"Awwwwwww!"
All three were in somewhat the same position. Sarah saw Didymus hanging upside down, his tail straight in the air, Hoggle in an odd sitting position, hands over his eyes not even wanting to know what was going on an she herself face down yet unable to move.
"Okay- let's stop hanging around- what do we do now!"
A new voice came from the right- a male voice with the ultimate Scottish accent. Sarah could not see him, suspended like that in her rather undignified position."
"Giggle." the voice said.
"I beg your pardon, good sir?" Didymus answered.
"Giggle- you're trapped in a very strong protective spell. If you laugh it will know you're safe and it will let you down."
"Thou art wise in those matters, good sir?"
"Naturally. For I am an Enchanter."
"And by what name art thee known- oh wise Enchanter of these desolate hills?"
"There are some who call me-" the voice hesitated, "Tim?"
Sarah lost it. First that mind-boggling ride through hell, then ultimate scare in being thrown out of the cart and the ridiculous situation she was in now. She laughed, hard deep belly laughs and she could nor make herself stop.
"That's the idea lass - that's it. Now you're on the ground now, you may stop now. Please stop!"
But Sarah could not, turned to face this Tim guy and saw a man in a tattered old cloak, with a gray and black long thin beard and the most ridiculous headgear made out of an ill fitting cap with two far to large curling capricorn horns attached to it. He held a tall staff and in frustration he shot at the rocks with it. They turned to fire immediately. This display of power sobered the girl somewhat. In the meantime, Hoggle suffered from the same 'fun' attack as Sarah had, only much louder, and Didymus gently lowered himself with civilized chuckles.
With the three snickering travelers at his feet, Tim apparently felt the need to compose and prove himself.
"You are the human child, Sarah Williams!"
Surprised Sarah nodded and gathered her wits together. "That is right."
"You seek the s'Quaerra."
"You know a lot, don't you?"
"Quite!" Tim pointed at a nearby rock and the thing exploded with relish. In spite of themselves, Didymus and Hoggle applauded..
"Do you know perhaps what that is- and where we could find one?"
The Enchanter nodded. "Ye can find one by passing the Bridge of Death. And that won't be easy lassie. You'd better turn back, before it is too late!"
Sarah looked at the mage sharply now- no he had two rather normal blue eyes- not mismatched ones. But that comment was Jareth's!
"Are you a False Alarm or something- because we are gonna get there! No matter what!"
"Well then, me girl. If you are so determined-, follow."
The song is the first verse of Marble Halls by Enya of the Shepherd Moons album.
The "poem" comes from the last verse of "Under Pressure", of Mr. David Bowie and Queen. So does the title of this chapter. Thought they were fitting. No copyright infringement intended. Just being an inspired fan here.
Enjoy
Ramowen
Diamond Tears
4. Why can't we give love one more chance?
"I dreamt I dwelt in marble halls
"With vassals and serfs at my side.
"And of all who assembled within those walls
"That I was the hope and the pride
"I had riches all too great to count
"And a high ancestral name.
"But I also dreamt which pleased me most
"That you loved me still the same,
"That you loved me
"You loved me still the same,
"That you loved me
"You loved me still the same
"Mother."
Jareth's deceivingly gentle voice could have cut crystal with its cold intensity. It cut the haunting song his mother sang whilst accompanying herself on her harp. Light fell brightly through the tall windows of the large circular room. The walls were supposed to be white, but almost all free space had been taken by paintings made by one hand only. They depicted melancholic saccharine scenes of a family with young children, visions of woodlands and waterfalls. Many tender portraits of a ginger hared blue eyed Fay, smiling, playing, fighting, sleeping.
One self-portrait- radiating darkness.
An easel carried an apparently unfinished work, covered with cloth and surrounded with thousands of clay pots containing any shade of color light could capture. When the Fay Queen stopped playing, the little pots started to move and scrape over the wooden floor, constantly trying to rearrange themselves according to spectrum. But they could never decide on witch one. A large oak desk stood on the far side of the room, manuscripts in a chaotic heap on top and spilled over to the floor. Here the Queen composed her music and poetry. It had never been in such disarray and in spite of himself Jareth grew a little worried at the sight of the mess his mother had made of the work she valued so. Her paintings and writings, so she claimed, were all she had left. The statement still pained the boy inside the King he had forced into hiding.
Here in this shrine to the family both he and the Queen had lost, as always Jareth was assaulted by the images of days past and hardened himself against them.
The slender woman stood and went to the window. She faced the Labyrinth outside, not the mystery that was her child. Her pale champagne colored curls cascaded to the floor. She had been a fairy of fire and light- yet she still choose to dress in the colors woven from a silken moonless the night and without even a star to highlight it's collar.
The only jewel she allowed herself was the upturned silver sickle shaped ornament on her forehead, the horn-like coat of arms of her late husband's house. The same the Goblin King had dangling on his chest. The same her Erkon had used to wear.
"Still the shades of night, mother?" Jareth asked casually. He stood there leaning in the doorframe, pretending to inspect his crystal knobbed walking-stick.
"The woman-child is back."
"What?" Jareth straitened in surprise and quickly yet tightly controlled he walked over to the Queen.
Azurmandi indicated the Labyrinth. "The one you allow in."
"What do you know of her." It was not a question, but a demand for information.
"Don't be obtuse, boy."
Jareth carefully gave no further outward reaction. So Azurmandi knew. Jareth however was not surprised by his mothers' knowledge, only by her interest in something outside this room. And something concerning him, no less. In that same soft restrained voice he asked:
"What of her, mother."
Azurmandi turned. "She is both beautiful and strong. I have dreamt about her."
Jareth only raised his brows.
"What are your plans towards this child."
"She amuses me."
"More fool you." The Queen indicated the mess at her desk. "I have been looking for something your father once wrote me."
Jareth sighed. He was a bit too old for being reproached over how to handle his toy's, now wasn't he?
"You don't say."
From her sleeve Azurmandi took a small scrap of parchment.
"Read."
Showing indifference only, Jareth took the small poem and red, while his mother went to her latest painting. She stood there, waiting. Nervously fingering the cloth that covered it. Jareth did not notice, but stared at the words.
"Cause love's such an old fashioned word
"And love dares you to care
"For people on the edge of the night
"And love dares you to change our way
"Of caring about ourselves
"This is our last dance
"This is our last dance
"What is the meaning of this?"
"Are you not happy to reclaim something of him?"
Jareth bowed his head and sighed. "I never voluntarily claimed anything of his!"
"I know."
Azurmandi's voice broke, she inhaled sharply, holding part of the cloth up like a shield, swallowing hard and near to tears.
Jareth again followed her trough the room. He felt a pain inside him that made speech hard. But then he did speak and gave a deadpan answer.
"Finally."
The mother looked up at him.
"You were so -cold- Jareth. So terribly distant. You kept something hidden from me- you still do. Something important that weighed heavily on your heart. It still does. But I never saw how much this pained you, now did I?"
The last the Goblin King had expected from today were words showing the beginning of understanding- not from her. The little boy inside was kicking at his ribcage, making it hard to breathe or speak. Making it hard to slowly follow the Queen trough the room instead of rushing at her. The little boy yearned to hold her. The embittered man would not.
"It does not matter, mother. It is the past."
"No." She shook her head. "And yes. It is this past that obstructs your future. And mine."
Jareth held out the poem to her. "The meaning of this?"
"You need to change, my son. You need to let go of the chill that has frozen you."
Jareth smiled, his mismatched eyes hard. "An old song, mother. One you told me yourself you believed impossible."
The Queen cringed. "Those were terribly cruel words to say to you. And I wish you could at least feel anger when giving them back to me."
Jareth gave a cold unbelieving chuckle in answer. He made a little bow, indicating he had wasted enough of his time and was ready to take his leave of her. Inside he felt as if standing in the heart of a hurricane, total turmoil. For nearly three hundred years this woman had either accused or ignored him. He should be curious at least to learn what prompted her current behavior. All he wanted was to leave her to the non-existence she had chosen, hidden behind the castle walls.
Azurmandi would not let him go. All outward signs of emotion erased from her equally composed features.
"We are cowards both, Jareth. We are both on suspended on the edge of night."
"I hardly believe father meant that."
"I have however seen hope for you."
Jareth's smile grew to a toothy grin, openly displaying disbelieve. Azurmandi pulled away the cloth from her painting. Jareth's mouth fell open and he was drawn to the picture like moth to flame.
Sarah's dream. The dream he had lured her into with the poisoned peach.
Sarah. Lovely Sarah in her gown of white satin, slipping away, turning from him. Turning towards the edge of the bubble moments before crashing it with that damned chair. And Jareth saw himself watching her leave. Struck with the haunted, desperate and lonely expression on his captured features.
This was not true- this was -not- how it had been! He had merely taunted her, merely delayed her! It had been part of his riddles, nothing more.
But why then, could he not stop his hand from touching the girls painted features?
"Go to her, my son. Stop playing these silly games with her. Don't deny yourself the happiness I know you -will- find with her."
"How could you know that?" he whispered.
"I saw you two dance, Jareth. I saw how she looked at you."
"How could you see! You invaded her!"
"So- you can feel -some- genuine anger after all."
"You will let her be!" he hissed.
"So protective."
"I am not-" Jareth could not speak for a moment, but it was true. He felt oddly protective towards the girl. And jealous of her affections towards others."
"She is just a beautiful child."
"A flower you would have plucked under any other circumstance. I know you, my son. You are a hedonist with very little restraint."
Jareth turned to her, furious. "What in Hades are you accusing me of, -mother-! She is a child! She was too young!"
"She might be still. Humans are quite different. But making her run through the maze won't help you."
Jareth's posture gone, his hand tracing the contours of the painted image, terribly lost.
"I just wanted-"
Azurmandi waited him out, said nothing. Jareth broke free from the painting and turned to her. "I just wanted her -near-."
For the first time in three hundred years Azurmandi and Jareth truly looked each other in the eye and acknowledged each other's grief.
"Jareth, I -am- reaching out to you. Please, for both our sakes and especially for your own, dare to change."
"I-" Jareth shook his head.
Azurmandi sighed. "You are so stubborn sometimes, just like your father."
"Get the reigns!" screamed Sarah, rubbing the back of her head, which had met with the bottom of the cart rather roughly.
"Awwww!" moaned Hoggle, holding on tight for dear life, hugging the side of the cart. He was paralyzed with fear and dizzy with the speed the cart had developed. Everything outside was a burr of colors, undistinguishable. Fighting his vertigo took all the dwarf had.
But not brave and rash Sir Didymus. He jumped on the box, held himself steady with one hand and grasped for the dangling leather straps with the other. A little half remembered song was in his sensitive ears for a moment- something about queens and sunlight. Suddenly, the reigns jumped into his paw. The knight pulled them hard, squealed as he himself was pulled from the box by the movement of the horses and screamed even harder when Sarah pulled him back again just in time by grabbing the tip of his tail. But even with the reins in hand, however hard the two friends pulled, they had no mastery over the horses what so ever. The horses did however calm down a bit and the surroundings the tree found themselves in became somewhat recognizable.
They thundered through a barren wilderness of rock and low mountains. Mosses seemingly the only thing that grew here. The landscape changed into broken and battered cliffs, the rubble thrown up by the hoofs pelting down on the now weary travelers.
And on they went, till finally the axle broke under the violence of the journey and the three unhappy passengers where thrown out of the cart head over heels, while the Aughiskies sped on mindlessly.
While Sarah was thrown from the cart, she fully expected to die. She expected to land on her scull, feel it crack and she waited for pain and something like a life flashing before her eyes-
Instead of all that, Sarah found herself back suspended in mid air- an arms-length above the stony path the cart had traveled.
"What the-"
"I say, this is unexpected, what?"
"Awwwwwww!"
All three were in somewhat the same position. Sarah saw Didymus hanging upside down, his tail straight in the air, Hoggle in an odd sitting position, hands over his eyes not even wanting to know what was going on an she herself face down yet unable to move.
"Okay- let's stop hanging around- what do we do now!"
A new voice came from the right- a male voice with the ultimate Scottish accent. Sarah could not see him, suspended like that in her rather undignified position."
"Giggle." the voice said.
"I beg your pardon, good sir?" Didymus answered.
"Giggle- you're trapped in a very strong protective spell. If you laugh it will know you're safe and it will let you down."
"Thou art wise in those matters, good sir?"
"Naturally. For I am an Enchanter."
"And by what name art thee known- oh wise Enchanter of these desolate hills?"
"There are some who call me-" the voice hesitated, "Tim?"
Sarah lost it. First that mind-boggling ride through hell, then ultimate scare in being thrown out of the cart and the ridiculous situation she was in now. She laughed, hard deep belly laughs and she could nor make herself stop.
"That's the idea lass - that's it. Now you're on the ground now, you may stop now. Please stop!"
But Sarah could not, turned to face this Tim guy and saw a man in a tattered old cloak, with a gray and black long thin beard and the most ridiculous headgear made out of an ill fitting cap with two far to large curling capricorn horns attached to it. He held a tall staff and in frustration he shot at the rocks with it. They turned to fire immediately. This display of power sobered the girl somewhat. In the meantime, Hoggle suffered from the same 'fun' attack as Sarah had, only much louder, and Didymus gently lowered himself with civilized chuckles.
With the three snickering travelers at his feet, Tim apparently felt the need to compose and prove himself.
"You are the human child, Sarah Williams!"
Surprised Sarah nodded and gathered her wits together. "That is right."
"You seek the s'Quaerra."
"You know a lot, don't you?"
"Quite!" Tim pointed at a nearby rock and the thing exploded with relish. In spite of themselves, Didymus and Hoggle applauded..
"Do you know perhaps what that is- and where we could find one?"
The Enchanter nodded. "Ye can find one by passing the Bridge of Death. And that won't be easy lassie. You'd better turn back, before it is too late!"
Sarah looked at the mage sharply now- no he had two rather normal blue eyes- not mismatched ones. But that comment was Jareth's!
"Are you a False Alarm or something- because we are gonna get there! No matter what!"
"Well then, me girl. If you are so determined-, follow."