Disclaimer: I do not own Labyrinth. I never have, never will…I just exercise my right to artistic license; at every available opportunity.

Mortality

          Lightening flashed from a perfectly clear sky, startling the birds from their trees. It also startled Jareth, who was sitting in one of the several hastily vacated trees, avoiding the fripperies of court ladies. The wind began to pick up slightly, and the leaves shook in some arcane pattern, the branches creaking and moaning some horrid dirge. Next the ground itself seemed to ripple, as if it was some great beast twitching it's fur.

          He managed to keep his tentative seat on the branches, until total darkness descended. It was frightening and disorienting, and he slipped. It wasn't far to the dancing ground, but it was a frightening experience none the less…to fall in complete blindness, anticipating impact but not seeing it approach…he tensed his shoulders and curled into a small ball, prepared to hit the ground. Then the light returned…a pulsing, feeble glow approximating the sun, but light. And the ground arched to meet him.

          Under normal circumstances, he would have hit the stone bench he had used to scale the formidable tree…but instead he fell several yards from the solid fixture, into the ornamental pond. He was not amused. But then again, he doubted anyone was amused at the lands rebellion. One thought ran through his head as he attempted to climb away from the swelling soil "What has father done?"

*   *   *   *   *

          Hoggle was having a very bad day. It had started with his lordship the prince disappearing. He had completely shirked every single one of his court duties…and Hoggle was convinced that Jareth had done it just to make his personal life harder. He was currently surrounded several voluminous skirts of varying shades as women flocked about him. Now this wasn't usually unpleasant, as he did like the ladies, but all they wanted to hear about was Jareth's plans, Jareth's time, Jareth this-horse-spit-that.

          He was telling the Lady Volima, for the twentieth time, that his Lordship Jareth did not desire company at the present moment "and no he has not mentioned when he would" when the very floor started to shake. Just lightly at first, but then it shimmied like a drum skin.

          The ladies in their fine silk footwear started to slide. And as they slid, they shrieked, horrible wailing cries like banshees of old. And they also grabbed at the closest object…with death grips. Hogle, being a stolid gnome had braced himself at the first quiver, as anyone of any intelligence would…but he hadn't reckoned on being clutched…in sensitive, nay delicate areas.

          So when the floor bucked enough to shift the whole fluttering group, his own undignified yelps were added to the blood curdling mix. But, he was lucky, as the entire hall stood on end and slid them all into the wall, he was padded by skirts…and the ladies weren't so lucky as they weren't wearing skirts on their heads; and being proper, delicate creatures…the fainted on impact, causing them to release a very ruffled gnome.

          So here he found himself, in a pile of ivory limbs and soft flesh…skirts fluttering here and there…all the greatest of women's beauty spread before his eyes…and what did he do? He heartily wished to be out of the whole cloying, perfumed, unconscious mess.

          Unfortunately, several women were pinning his body to those that had landed on the bottom. He couldn't move. So he sighed and wiggled as best he could until his head was well cushion on the bosom of the woman beneath him, and waited for the rescue teams.

*   *   *   *   *

          Jareth had caught the timing of the land swells and was soon wending his way to the palace. A heavy dread settled in pit of his stomach at what he would find. Never had the land behaved so…unfocused. It was as if it couldn't decide what it desired to be, and the land desire was the king desire…which meant his father was in trouble.

          Eventually the kitchen gardens came into view, and strangely, they weren't moving. Each and every row of vegetables was completely unaffected by chaos around them. It was as calming as it was surprising. He landed at the edge after sliding down a particularly large swell and the flat, even land caused his knees to buckle. He found himself staring at particularly succulent looking tomato; he contemplated it until he could safely stand.

          He bent to brush dirt of his knees and saw a pair of very worn, very muddy boots directly ahead of him. The boots were attached to in the normal way to a very large mane, far taller than normal. The man's impressive stature was topped by a thick mop of flaming red hair that straggled into his slightly vacant brown eyes. The man, obviously a gardener, was leaning on his hoe and looking at the prince with some amusement. "Yah ought to tell the pleasure gardens tah behave better. Tsk tsk, such shenanigans shouldn't be allowed. Nope, shouldn't be. But my vegetable garden here, it sets a better example."

          Jareth looked at the gardener with some surprise; the palace right beyond the plot was jumping and melting as much as the land behind him. Only here was it stable "Master gardener sir…"

          "Name's Ludo. Ludo Marse."

          "Master Ludo…how did you get this land to stay still? It is obvious something is wrong with the king…all the land should be riotous."

          The mans shaggy eyebrows swooped down towards his nose in a worried gesture "Wrong with the King? What could be wrong with 'em? As fer the land, I was just thinking it was havin a bit of fun. Can't have that here, this is a workin garden. I'll let it have fun when the crops in. Hmph, King's ill…don't believe it. What's a sprat like you know about the king?"

          Jareth fixed the man with his piercing, mismatched stare, and sniffed. "I am Jareth, son of his Majesty Ketrillin the Third."

          "Oh? Really now? And what would you be doin here then?"

          "Trying to get into the castle."

          "Ah, I see. I reckon you can use the kitchen door…if you're a thief, the guards will just kill you…if you're the prince, I guess they won't. I've got work to do." The large man bent and gently cradling small seedlings in his massive hands, transferring them to small pots.

          Jareth shook his head and headed for the plain wooden door into the castle kitchens. "What an odd man…"

*   *   *   *   *

          Hoggle watched as the small portion of ceiling he could see swirled and melted like some arcane painting. Then his erstwhile cushion started to flutter her eyelids. She started to squirm and look at him reproachfully. "Get off me!"

          Hoggle grinned in a toothy manner and shrugged, settling his head between her quivering breasts "Can't. I'm stuck same as you."

          "Why you filthy little…taking advantage of such a horrendous situation…"

          "Just taking whatever the circumstances deal me, ma'am." He ran a hand down the side of her gown where he estimated her thigh would be in the fabric monstrosity "This is taking advantage!"

          She squealed and choked for a moment as her face turned red "When my father hears of this…"

          Hoggle looked her straight in the eye and sighed "He'll probably laugh his buttons off. All I'm doing is laying here. You're the one panicking." To emphasize his point, he crossed his arms across his chest and stared at the ceiling again, which had turned a fascinating shade of puce.

          The lady had other plans; she started to wail, bawling her eyes out and wiggling most uncomfortably. Hoggle was shaken out of his ceiling observation as she twisted her chest out from under him. Annoyed, he reached up and smacked her head into the wall again. It had the same effect as the first time…he had a comfortable pillow once more.

*   *   *   *   *

          The halls were a nightmare, most of them no longer led anywhere…much less to the throne room. Plus they kept turning about on themselves like demented snakes. Jareth watched in horror as the last mile of corridor he had traversed rushed past him, and settled itself sideways. "It is obvious father has lost control…I need to get to him…" He braced himself for the rush of magic he would require and placed his hand on the currently still wall. Then he spoke, in whispers of the old tongue, to the wall. Coaxing, cajoling, promising…a door slowly formed, covered in ornate beaten gold. The door to the throne room.

          He stepped inside with a weary sigh and let the magic trickle away. Inside, the court that usually attended his father sat in a frozen tableau. Each and every one of the magistrates, priests, guests and assorted court dandies were exquisitely carved statues…except two. His father slouched over the throne…and his godfather Larec, who was trying to help the king.

          At his entrance, Larec looked up with haunted eyes. "My lord Jareth…"

          "What has happened?"

          "Poison, my lord. Someone poisoned his wine cup. Help me save him…"

          Jareth nodded and stepped towards the throne, his hands alight with golden power that was echoed about Larec's spread fingers, healing magic that would save the king. They hoped.

*   *    *   *   *

          Fighting the poison was like fighting a pitched battle during winter…in the rain, and starving. It was insidious and exhausting…but eventually the palace stopped quivering, and the king opened his eyes to the healing embrace of his son and his brother. He felt old, so old, and realized that he now lived on borrowed time. But time enough to tell the pair later. They were exhausted, and he was the king. He had work to do.

*   *   *   *   *

          Hoggle felt one last shift as the hall gently settled back into it's former position, spilling the ladies and himself like so many flower petals off the wall. He stood and brushed himself off, eager to be away before any of the ladies awoke. He looked down at his recent pillow and smirked. Then he bent at the waist and laid a kiss upon her lips.

          She stirred and sighed, her eyes fluttered open "My prince…?" her eyes widened in shock as she took in his weathered, gnomish features. This time, she fainted of her own accord.

          Hoggle laughed to himself as he headed to the throne room, knowing the center of the problem…and therefore his prince would be there "So much for the sleeping beauty stories…"

*   *   *   *   *

Sorry for the delay in updating folks, but it's been a bit hectic here. Hope you enjoyed it anyway.