I really shouldn't be writing this. I have rewrites due tomorrow morning. *sigh* Remind me next time to lock Jareth in the closet so I can work. Um, trying not to give anything away, I must say that the new characters for today do exist. I wrote a serious report about them for class. (Really!) While I was working, I doodled my own concept of what they looked like and developed their characters from there. I'm wondering if I'm going to regret it. Anyway, our theme for today is Forever With You from the anime Here is Greenwood. Which is, BTW eerily like life in my dorm. So, round up the disclaimers and have fun!

Ladymage ;)

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To the Victor Go the Spoils

Part 22 ~ A Little Light Comedy

Jareth's hand brushed the stone wall of the castle. My castle no longer, he thought bitterly. Now it belongs to her.

NO! His fist slammed against the stone, bruising both in the process. This place is mine! It has been mine since creation and will be long after she is gone. Jareth forced himself to calm down with this thought. It was true, after all. Sarah was mortal so long as she believed she was and it meant that she would die, sooner or later. It was simply a matter of time and Jareth could definitely manage to out-wait her.

While the thought was not exactly cheering, it did improve the Goblin Lord's stater of mind as he continued through the castle. All he had to do was wait and everything would return to the way it had been. After all, it hadn't been too long before that fool Philip decided to remove himself. But Sarah, Sarah had infintely more will than that little milk-sop had ever had. She had truly been a worthy opponent. She would continue to be so.

Brooding over this, Jareth finally reached his true home, the one room in the castle that was his no matter what other changes may occur. He opened to door to his bedchamber and stepped inside.

It was a glorious room, set in a tower high above the Labyrinth walls. The floor was carved of ink black onyx, the reflection giving mere mortals a severe sense of vertigo as they seemingly stood on nothingness. The walls and ceiling were of the same stone, enveloping the occupant in a sometimes cold, sometimes warm darkness, either comforting or rejecting. But the crowning glory of the room was that fully half of its round walls were missing, with nothing between the blackness and empty air. Jareth loved to stand on the very edge of that drop, catching the wind in his hands, feeling himself drawn into the infinity of the heavens that were all that could be seen. It was here that he felt the most like his true self and here, far removed from its stone walls and devious traps that he felt most connected to the second half of his soul, the Labyrinth.

He removed his boots, placing them carefully beside the door before gliding to the precipitous edge. Closing his eyes, he felt calm flow through him as he felt his own heartbeat, then opened himself fully to the Labyrinth. There was its lifebeat, matching the rhythm of his own heart. He felt its force pulsing through it as well as through his own veins. And from it he gathered feelings of--deep contentment, almost happiness? His eye opened as he frowned down upon the infinite tracts of stone. Yes, the Labyrinth felt almost joyous and highly protective of something that it contained at its heart. The closest description mere words can give would compare it to a wildcat, content and purring in its lair.

Jareth whirled around, breaking the intimate contact, relegating it to its usual place in the back of his mind. There was no doubt about it, the Labyrinth was welcoming its new queen with open arms, and while Jareth could not help but share his soul's joy, the knowledge that he had not been the one to make it so rankled him. If he had not been the Goblin Lord, there would be a few other adjectives to describe his reaction. But we must leave them be.

Jareth lowered himself onto his bed, which was set into the floor and indistinguishable from the surrounding stone. Laying on his back, he contemplated the ceiling. It could not be said that he was happy when two bright lights appeared, causing the stone to reflect and magnify.

"Well, brother, I should say that friend Jareth is not quite as happy as his kingdom," said one voice.

"So should I," replied another, the exact duplicate of the first. "What hast gotten thee down, cousin?"

Jareth raised his head to look at the pair of faces looking down at him. "The Reshephim," he muttered. "Of course. When life can't get any worse, Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum show up to brighten my day."

"Oh, are we too bright?" the first asked dismayed. The light around them dimmed. "We are terribly sorry, cousin; we didst not mean to disturb thee. Overmuch."

"Of course, thou might notice that on this day we are two that visit thee. Dost thou not prefer Tweedle Dum and Dee' to simply Tweedle Dee?'"

It was true. The Reshephim were ancient gods, more akin to elementals than anything else. They favored appearing as St. Elmo's Fire around ship masts, indicating by their number the fortune of those they appeared to. One Resheph foretold rough times ahead. Three spelt disaster. But two meant that fair sailing would soon follow.

As one, the two brothers knelt next to Jareth's bed. Their complexion was the dark red-brown of the Middle East, surrounded by a cloud of long, fine white hair. The first, who preferred the title Reshep, had eyes that glowed like the heart of lightning. The other had eyes of the glowing orange at the edge of a lightning bolt and liked being called Resheph. The brother multiplied at will, though, so almost any variation of their name served.

Both looked worriedly at Jareth. Then they looked at each other as though to reassure themselves of the other's presence.

"He shall be all right," Reshep commented.

"We doth know that, brother. The question is, how hard will he make the journey to that point?"

"Ask me not. We are only bearers of tidings, or dost thou forget?"

"Do not tell me what thou hast forgotten more oft than I," Resheph shot back.

"Pardon me for interrupting this most entertaining conversation, my friends, but perhaps you could stop talking about me like I'm not here?" Jareth commented, annoyed. He moved to sit up, leaning his back against the wall.

"Sorry," Resheph answered, chagrined.

"Thou knowest we are but worried about you." Reshep's liquid fire eyes gazed at the Fae.

"I know, I know. But do you have to continue talking in that outdated fashion. Even I gave up thees' and thous' a couple centuries ago."

The pair's cheeks burned. Literally.

"Whoops." Resheph looked at his brother.

"True," Reshep agreed. He turned back to Jareth. "You know what our job's like, cousin. They still expect us to speak in archaic terms so we can sound suitably impressive. It spills over sometimes and we don't notice."

"Pain in the arse, I say," Resheph grumbled.

"You're telling me," Jareth replied. "Do you know how irritating it is to have to translate you two? Especially when you all start talking in tandem."

Reshep: "I suppose,"

Resheph: "you could say that."

Both of them grinned at Jareth cheekily, who in turn gave them a wry grin. "Anyway, what brings you here?"

Reshep: "Mother."

Resheph: "Who else?"

Reshep: "She noticed how much,"

Resheph: "trouble you seemed to be having."

Reshep: "So she sent us"

Resheph: "to...cheer you up."

"After all," Reshep shrugged. "You don't seem very happy with the situation and she thought you might like to know it will all turn out rather well. She thinks so, at any rate."

"I think so, too, brother," Resheph objected. "I saw it and it looks good to me."

"Well, you heard ol' Tweedle Dum there," Reshep grinned. "So buck up, old boy. You can't enjoy the future if you spend all your time in here brooding about it."

"I am not Tweedle Dum," Resheph remarked indignantly. "And besides, I'd say cousin Jareth's sulking rather than brooding."

"I do not sulk," Jareth returned, just as indignant.

"Yes, you do," Resheph said.

"No, I do not," he replied.

"You do."

"Do not."

"Do."

"Not."

"Yes, you do," both brothers chorused, grinning. Jareth was nonplussed.

"Anyway," continued Reshep. "We just thought you'd like to know."

"Yup, and give us a ring if you want some company. We're dying to meet Sarah, you know." The pair stood as Jareth began glowering at them.

"Don't frown at us, dear cousin," Reshep told him. "If anything, you're the one who's responsible for the mess you're in. Don't blame us and don't blame Sarah. You didn't have to answer her, you know."

"You should ask youself," Resheph continued as the brothers began to glow brightly.

"Why you did," Reshep finished as the two turned entirely into light and danced away into the night sky.

"Damned heralds," Jareth grumbled. "Always think they know everything." Getting back into bed, he turned on his side and grumped himself to sleep.