Smoke and Mirrors
By Alison Harvey
Summary: Long ago, Sarah chose her dreams over Toby, a trap she came
to regret. Now, as a member of the Masquerade Court, she plans an
elaborate revenge against the Goblin King. At stake is the crown of
the Illusion Queen, mistress of Masquerade...
Author's note: Before you read any further, please understand that
this is a J/S story--even if it sounds very different at first. Many
thanks to my beta readers, Arianne and Kat, who convinced me that
this idea would make a decent story. As always, feedback is greatly
appreciated.
Disclaimer: The characters and ideas of Labyrinth are the property
of Jim Henson.
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Chapter 2: Suspicions
It surprised no Masquerade courtiers that Jacopo honored Felicite
with the title of Countess of Revels less than a fortnight later. She
was a beautiful girl, all agreed, and such a good match for the young
lord. Those who measured the ways of power nodded their heads
ponderously and redrew the webs of influence that spread throughout
the Underground.
Elise and Yasmin drank a bottle of champagne between them the night
the engagement was announced. What they were celebrating, Elise
wasn't sure. She was too curious as to what would happen next to
spoil Yasmin's plans by demanding a full explanation.
The wedding was an appropriately grand affair for a people who loved
decorous celebration. Jacopo and his family were masters of the
tedious details and meticulous planning that marked successful
celebrations. It was both expected and appropriate, after all, to
mark both the marriage and the passing of the Count's title in fine
Masquerade style. The double ceremony itself was small and private,
but the new Count threw open the manor for a much-anticipated ball.
Yasmin strode confidently to the herald, a flustered Elise in tow.
Ignoring all protests from her golden-haired friend, she straightened
her gown and walked into the ball, fingertips barely touching those
of the trailing woman. Breathless, Elise glared at Yasmin as the
herald announced them.
"The Lady Elise and the Lady Yasmin," said the small Fae, his
trained voice rippling over the thin crowd without need of magic. Few
heads turned. Elise once again faced her companion, annoyed. The
small crowd was one of the many consequences of arriving
unfashionably early, but Yasmin had insisted.
"I promised Felicite," she had said in her dressing room as she
adjusted the strap of the mask. The hawk feathers shone with dark
iridescence, her one concession to the festivities. She stood up from
the dressing table and turned around for Elise to finish lacing the
ties of her dress before returning the favor. As Yasmin finished
closing Elise's rose gown, she turned beseeching eyes on her.
"Please, Elise? You don't have a guest tonight to humor."
"That's a widow's privilege," Elise said halfheartedly, resigning
herself to an early entrance. Yasmin was right, as always. Better to
arrive early as friends than late, and alone.
Now, though, Elise was beginning to have second thoughts. The heavy
crimson swags and flourishes of the ballroom were beautiful, but not
excessively interesting. The live music had not yet started, and the
quick-footed staff was still readying the tables and chairs. All talk
was taking place without the cover of dance or food, something that
Elise found excruciatingly difficult. Her breath back, she looked
around for Yasmin so that she could chastise her for her brilliant
idea.
She at last caught a glimpse of Yasmin's pale dress disappearing
into the thickest part of the meager crowd. Cursing under her breath,
Elise picked up her skirts and followed as briskly as she could. "Of
course we'll stay together," she mocked, recalling Yasmin's earlier
promise. "I won't leave you alone!" She snorted, nearly dislodging
her heavily beaded mask. Replacing it, she pushed through the last
remaining guests and reached her errant friend.
Yasmin was talking to the beaming bride, oblivious to her promise to
Elise. She nodded in greeting, still talking. As a fuming Elise
reached her side, Yasmin suddenly clasped Felicite in a warm embrace.
She pulled back and produced a leather pouch.
"Please accept this gift in honor of your marriage, Countess," she
said with a short curtsey.
Felicite smiled and opened the pouch, gasping in admiration as she
withdrew a cunningly wrought necklace with a golden basilisk pendant.
"For luck," explained the giver.
Obviously touched, Felicite hugged the smaller woman
enthusiastically. Elise did not miss that Yasmin took advantage of
the closeness to whisper in the bride's ear. Adding this new
information to her mental list of grievances, she prepared to take
her hawk-masked friend down a few pegs. She grabbed a cream-clad arm
out of the tangle and pulled insistently.
"Listen," Elise hissed to Yasmin, conscious of keeping her voice
down. "You promised not to leave me alone! I want an explanation,
now, or..."
What she had planned to threaten Yasmin with was never to be known,
as the king chose that moment to arrive in customary splendor.
A hush fell over the now-numerous guests as a bolt of lightning
cracked across the cloudless night sky. In the middle of the
ballroom, a column of glittering light coalesced into the imposing
figure of His Royal Highness. Belatedly, a dark-haired man came into
existence with much less fanfare. He simply appeared. The King, on
the other hand, arrived.
Despite his surprise, the groom quickly collected himself and
greeted his illustrious guest. "Your majesty!" Jacopo exclaimed,
bowing deeply. "We are honored by your presence." Elise's estimation
of the young Count went up a notch. Beside her, she was sure that
Yasmin radiated a quiet approval of her former suitor. The two women
paid their respects to the reigning monarch with the crowd. Yasmin's
auburn locks tumbled over her masked face as she inclined her head
and curtsied deeply.
Something in that gesture set off a quiet alarm in Elise's
calculating mind. When, exactly, had Yasmin ever been so respectful
of the king? She reviewed several things at once, turning them over
in her head and trying to fit the pieces together correctly. Yasmin
had always refused to comment on her past, but Elise had recently
developed a theory that needed further investigation. She suspected
that this time she had finally hit upon the correct answer.
Elise turned her attention to the Goblin King, assessing him as she
did any other available man of high position. When her not-lamented
husband had been alive, she had been lucky enough to attend court as
the wife of one of the secondary royal advisors. Bored by the prosaic
concerns of the Labyrinth Court, she had diverted herself by
observing the king. Although she had not been back to the Labyrinth
for some time, she instantly dropped back into her old habit.
Today he had opted for a more conservative look, which for him
consisted of an elegant long jacket and breeches of dark green
velvet. Elise was amused to observe that his cream-colored blouse
matched that of her friend's almost exactly, and murmured this
observation quickly.
From Yasmin's stiff position, she could tell that the woman was not
flattered. Elise finished her cursory observation quickly and
determined two things: one, that although the Goblin King's visit was
unannounced, it was meant to be friendly, and secondly, that she
found him as unappealing as ever.
The latter distressed her. From a purely aesthetic standpoint, she
could always conclude that he was visually striking. His finely
sculpted features held a certain languorous beauty, tempered only by
the hardness of his eyes and a certain line to his mouth. She wanted
to find Jareth attractive, but failed at every turn. To play the
Masquerade game, a courtier invariably had to deal with the Goblin
King, the regent of the Masquerade Court. If an attractive woman
pursued the right avenues, she could find herself with an invitation
to the king's personal chambers, a position of considerable
influence. The Goblin King had no wife, and the courtiers could dream
that his bride-present might be the Court itself. Association with
the king, therefore, was vital.
Elise had somehow survived despite careful avoidance of such a
liaison. It had taken more work to reach the powerful inner circle of
courtiers, but she felt more worthy for it. Jareth frequently
rewarded women he enjoyed with influential marriages or
introductions, reinforcing the ties between Labyrinth and Masquerade.
As the survivor of a loveless marriage, Elise had no interest in
another attempt. She had felt a sort of quiet relief when the news
came that her husband had died: within weeks, she had moved to
quarters within the Masquerade Castle and returned to the schemes she
had left behind when she had married. She enjoyed her freedom and had
no interest in attracting Jareth's attentions.
Faced with the thought of another marriage, Elise found herself
more than content with her meaningless games in the Masquerade Court
and her friendship with Yasmin, and left the king out of her plans.
Yasmin, however, was another story. Despite her similar avowal of
attraction to the king, on which the schemes of all available
Masquerade females usually centered, Elise sensed a different sort of
obsession on her friend's part. She noted how Yasmin seemed a
fraction of her usual imposing self upon the King's arrival at the
ball and her careful avoidance of his gaze. Yasmin and the Goblin
King had some deep history, and Elise would have bet her substantial
fortune that it was a story worth knowing.
Jareth's gaze roamed the ballroom without incident while Elise
pondered; he soon turned to the bride. "Well met, Felicite."
"Well met indeed, milord," she said, clearly overawed by his visit.
"Thank you for visiting my husband and I on this occasion. In truth,
you honor us greatly with your attentions today."
The King smiled graciously. "Such fine words are only to be expected
from the Elf-bred daughter of the Lady Rebekah. She would be proud of
you if she could see you today."
As Felicite blushed in pleasure, Elise took advantage of the moment
to whisper to Yasmin, her earlier anger deferred by her thoughts.
"Aye, it's well that he should say that. Rebekah was one of his
favorites, you know, although that was well before your time."
The reply, when it finally came, was as bland as the pleasantries
currently exchanged between the king and those bold enough to
approach him. "Really?"
Somewhat taken aback by Yasmin's lack of surprise and cool tone,
Elise tried again to bait her interest. "They say that she was
almost his daughter." She nodded with satisfaction as the hawk mask
snapped to attention.
"He's always taken good care of Felicite--I daresay Jacopo was
thoroughly investigated by his majesty's agents before the wedding
was allowed to occur."
Yasmin nodded her head, a move that served to enlighten Elise to
precisely nothing. She decided that another way might meet with more
success, and removed her attention to noting Jacopo's ties as denoted
by his guests. Of particular interest were the quiet elves that
clustered in small groups, clothed in exquisite materials. The large
number hinted at both planned negotiations and considerable respect
for the wedding party, and Elise turned her mind to guessing the
possible elvish goods that might soon be in the hands of Revelia and
how she could invest her fortune properly.
Order began to assert itself on the haphazard receiving line for the
king and the newlyweds, and the two women soon found themselves near
the front. Although Yasmin appeared outwardly calm, Elise's sharp
gaze noticed how her hands, although modestly buried in her gown,
were working the pale material into knots before slowly unclenching
them to start the process again. Her attention was noticed; hawk-eyes
met her own, and an understanding passed between the two.
"I feel unwell," Yasmin announced to an unsurprised Elise. "It was
foolish of me not to eat before coming to such an affair." She looked
sidelong at the long tables of food and the soft seats provided for
guests nearby. "Please give my best to Jacopo. I'm sure he will
understand."
Then she was gone in a flurry of ivory satin, leaving Elise even
more determined to uncover the secret her friend was so carefully
hiding. She sighed and straightened her skirts as the line gave way
to the couple and the king.
"Your majesty," she said, curtseying quickly. "Such a pleasure to
see you again."
Jareth's indifferent face took on a more interested cast as he
recognized her. "As always, Lady Elise," he acknowledged with more
politeness as she had expected. As she prepared to bow her head and
move on, he asked a polite question. "And who has the pleasure of
escorting you this evening?"
Startled, her head snapped up with a decided lack of grace. With a
sinking heart, she realized he was now gazing straight at her, the
earlier warmth lost behind an inscrutable mask.
"I came unescorted, my lord," she said carefully, unsure of how to
read his intent. How foolish of her to think that he would not
notice, or care. Her eyes strayed past his shoulder to the dark-
haired man in sober clothing, noticing that he too was watching her
intently.
"I was referring, of course, to your companion of the evening," the
Goblin King continued, his implacable stare harder to bear by the
second. "The red-haired woman who was waiting with you in the
receiving line?"
"Oh," she said, careful to hide her relief. She had mistakenly
assumed that he had been about to offer a personal invitation or even
a match. "That was the Lady Yasmin. She felt unwell, and left to
rest."
The Goblin King seemed to consider this information. She leaned
forward, expecting another question, but he abruptly collected
himself and straightened. A twirl of his gloved fingers produced a
shining crystal sphere. Alerted by the use of magic, Jacopo briefly
turned his head before resuming his animated conversation with two
willowy elves. Surprised by the display, Elise was further startled
when the king handed her the heavy crystal, his smile warm but his
eyes unreadable.
"This invitation is for both you and the Lady Yasmin," he told her
as she cradled the crystal carefully. His slanted eyebrows drew
together under the fall of feathery hair. "Make sure that you both
attend."
It was both a command and a dismissal, and she hastily made
obeisance and left, forgetting Jacopo and Felicite for the moment.
She found Yasmin easily enough, flirting with a lesser lord of Revels
and looking decidedly hearty. Grabbing her arm unceremoniously, she
dragged her away with a muttered apology to the lordling.
"Explain this," Elise said, her earlier ire returning. She shoved
the crystal at Yasmin, who curiously crossed her arms over her chest
in refusal. She leaned in close instead, inspecting the outthrust
object.
"He gave you this?" No need to guess whom Yasmin was referring to,
Elise thought wryly. Her friend saved that particular disdain for
only one Fae.
"It's for both of us. He was very specific about including you."
"I see."
"What have you done, Yasmin?"
Her friend looked up at her from her inspection of the magic, her
eyes narrowed behind the black feathers of her mask. Elise saw her
clenched hands and realized that the king had a very specific reason
for the invitation. Somehow, she doubted that Yasmin's fury was the
expected result. Nonetheless, they were both invited, and there was
nothing either could do now but accept.
"Think carefully, Yasmin," she said curtly. "Have you ever met the
king before? Caught his attention somehow?"
The woman shook her head, too quickly. "No."
"Then how?"
When Yasmin finally responded, her frustration was plain. "I don't
know! I wish I did, so I could have planned for it." She abruptly
clamped her mouth shut, checking her surroundings for eavesdroppers.
When she was satisfied no one was nearby, she continued. "I'm sorry
to have dragged you into this, Elise."
Her anger once again defused by Yasmin's sincere confusion, Elise
stared glumly into the depths of the crystal. "Yasmin, you know I
hate these things!"
"I do. And I hate them too."
"And you still get me into one. I'm too old to do this!"
"We'll figure out a way to turn it like we always do," was Yasmin's
sly reply, accompanied by a slight lift of her shoulders.
Elise grasped Yasmin's hands, excitement rising as she considered
the possibilities. "That's my girl."
The two wandered back into the whirling crowd, exchanging
pleasantries with courtiers they recognized and consecutively wilder
schemes with one another. The receiving line thinned, and as the moon
set, the king took his leave without another glance at the cream-clad
woman or her blonde companion. It turned out, one heavy crystal
invitation notwithstanding, to be a most pleasant night for Elise and
Yasmin.