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: A J/S story. Many thanks to my beta readers Kat and
Arianne.
Disclaimer: The characters and ideas of Labyrinth are the property
of Jim Henson.
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Chapter 3: Certainties
As Elise had predicted somewhat drunkenly the night of Jacopo's
wedding, the crystal invitation activated itself at the most
inconvenient time possible: early morning three days afterwards, when
both women were sound asleep in their adjoining rooms.
Yasmin had admitted to Elise many years before that she didn't have
the money to rent one of the expensive central room sets in the
Masquerade castle, the traditional home of single, untitled female
courtiers. She had asked her friend for a loan to cover the
difference. Elise, who owned one of the more extravagant suites
outright, had insisted that her apprentice share her quarters. After
much haggling, Yasmin had agreed. They both found the arrangement
ideal: two women in separate sleeping chambers filled the suite
perfectly, and midnight plans and private conversations were
instantly accessible. Down the hall lived their maid: a small, quiet
woman who had worked for Elise since her marriage.
Neither Elise nor Yasmin was awake to see the clear globe silently
pulsing red flashes of light in Yasmin's room, but the crystal magic
consisted of three sequences if no acknowledgement came.
Elise awoke from a pleasant dream in which the entire Masquerade
Court was replaced with handsome young men to find a wild-haired
Yasmin shaking her.
She yawned as she sat up, confused. "Yasmin, do you have any idea
what time it is?"
Despite looking nearly as exhausted, Yasmin still managed a
malicious smirk. She brought an object out from behind her back,
wrapped in scrap of cloth, and dropped it into Elise's lap before
covering her ears. Elise stared dumbly at the flashing crystal before
realizing what was about to happen.
The crystal, with impeccable timing, began to emit a high-pitched
buzzing noise. Elise slapped at it irritably, watching with
satisfaction as it dissolved on contact. She reached for the folded
invitation it had revealed, but Yasmin grabbed it first. Grumbling,
Elise stood and walked to the wardrobe in her sleeping shift, still
not sufficiently awake.
"The ball will begin at moonrise," Yasmin read aloud from the other
side of the room. "Masquerade dress is sufficient."
Elise blinked, confused. "Is that the exact wording?"
"I paraphrased. If you really want to hear the full language...?"
Elise sighed. "I'll take your word for it. Honestly! Why so early?"
"Told you," said Yasmin, crossing to inspect the tan and green gown
Elise had just pulled out of the wardrobe. "Goblin attire, Elise?
Really?"
"It's appropriate, considering that it'll be his fault that's what
I'll look like with so little sleep."
"Jareth will notice, you know," Yasmin teased, "and think that you
have designs on his kingship!"
Her friend huffed. "If only he'd just admit it. Then I'd finally be
able to kick you into the Bog and be done with it." She sniffed.
"What's that I smell?" A spicy, exotic aroma was drifting from the
door that connected her chamber to Yasmin's.
"What do you mean?" asked Yasmin innocently, backing up towards the
door to her room. "I certainly wouldn't have tea in my room, freshly
brought up from the kitchens. And if I did, I certainly wouldn't
share it with anyone who threatened me with the Bog of Eternal
Stench." Jareth's nasty invention was well-known throughout the
Underground.
Elise eyed her friend suspiciously. "This is just an elaborate
payback for leaving the crystal in your room, isn't it?"
"Maybe."
"Then I'm sorry."
Yasmin opened the door invitingly. "Come in then, and drink with me."
Elise dove for the door. Once inside, she accepted a steaming cup
gratefully and breathed in the hot vapor, already feeling refreshed.
She gulped the spiced tea down, to the amusement of the other woman.
Yasmin was grinning cheekily in between sips of her drink, already
dressed in a day skirt and blouse and, in Elise's opinion, far too
alert.
When the fiery liquid had sufficiently cleared her sleep-fogged
mind, Elise put down her cup. "Fine," she said. "What are you
wearing? And do we have a hairdresser yet?"
Yasmin's smile faltered slightly. "I called a hairdresser when I
asked Tetis to bring the tea. As for what I'm wearing...I don't think
that I'm going."
The cup clattered loudly against the saucer as Elise stared at her,
wide-eyed. "Not going? Impossible. I won't let you do that to
yourself."
Her friend shrugged. "They get boring. Surely the king will
understand."
"The invitation was given to me for you," Elise explained slowly,
dragging out the syllables in an effort to get her point across and
more than a bit flustered by Yasmin's inexplicable behavior. They had
gone before to such affairs, and had not been entertained, but Yasmin
had never tried such a stupid stunt before. "I thought I taught you
better than this, dear. I think that I deserve an explanation for why
you are so determined to avoid the King." She caught Yasmin's faint
surprise, and pushed harder. "You've been hiding this for years. When
were you going to explain the why of it to me?"
Yasmin stared down at her cup for long minutes, absentmindedly
swirling her spoon in the cooling drink and refusing to face Elise.
She lifted her head, looking at her long-time friend directly. "I
can't tell you right now. Please don't make me go through this before
I have to face him tonight, or I won't be able to hide it." When she
failed to get a reaction, she hastily continued. "I'll tell you after
the ball. I swear."
Elise held her tongue. Something in what Yasmin had said had
unlocked a long-ago memory for her. Yasmin's iron facade had been in
place for years, and this was the first moment of real vulnerability
she had seen since she had first met the young woman. She was
hesitant to lose such trust by pushing a confession now.
"After the ball, then," she said, trying not to feel guilty at the
look of relief on Yasmin's face. "But you must go. He will notice
more by your absence after a specific request than he would if you
merely act disinterested."
"What? You think all this happened just because he favors red hair
this month?"
"I'm sure that's all there is to it. You needn't worry."
Yasmin took a deep breath and squared her shoulders, regaining some
of her confidence. "I would have been fine if I hadn't had the damned
dreams the other night," she said, but shook her head when Elise
motioned for her to continue. "Let's go find a good dress. Something
boring, but fancy enough that he'll think I valued his invitation. I
want to look as plain as possible if he's looking for his latest
conquest."
Elise nodded. "I think I know just the outfit." She leaned forward,
favoring her friend with a conspiratorial wink. "How about pink?"
Yasmin laughed loudly as she realized the direction of Elise's
thoughts, leaving the other woman thankful at the sudden release of
tension. Elise considered what she had just remembered, then firmly
pushed aside her suspicions until they could be properly aired.
-----
Precisely at moonrise, the invitation transported the two women to
the Labyrinth ball. The feeling of magical travel was as always,
dizzying, but Elise managed to shake it off with practiced ease.
Yasmin, unused to the power of the Goblin King's spells, felt
nauseous, so the two sat down on soft cushions until she could
properly adjust.
The ballroom had familiar spell-built convex walls, creating a fish
bowl effect that made both women uncomfortable. Perhaps in response
to such sentiments, tonight a blue magical glow dimmed the scene. The
dim light had the unfortunate effect of turning bystanders into half-
drowned sprites, looming out of the darkness. Blue candles as thick
as a woman's waist provided warmer light for the dance floor and
trailing gauzy fabric tangled the room into a conspiratorial maze.
Shards of crystal lay in drifts, completing the wintery feel. Soft
pillows like the one the two rested on lay everywhere for the sport
or sleep of guests, and an enticing aroma hinted at refreshments
behind one of the curtains.
Yasmin stared at one of the nearer candles, trying to will her head
to stop spinning. She knew she had succeeded when she saw one, not
two, candles before her.
"A few more times and you won't feel a thing," reassured Elise. "And
to think you were considering not coming! How could you ever adjust
if you never were exposed to such a level?"
Yasmin smirked, painted lips twisting. "I think that I would somehow
survive."
"We can't rest much longer or it'll be obvious why. And then people
would want to know..."
"Hush, Elise, I'm getting up." She brushed off her dress, smoothing
its ridiculous ruffles with fond affection, and stood up.
Elise eyed the dress with pride. It had required some last minute
adjustments, but it was perfect. Yasmin's rust-red hair clashed
horribly with the fluffy layered confection of antique yellowed lace
and baby-pink satin. Her dark cream hawk's mask was two shades too
dark to match properly, giving Yasmin the overall effect of a child's
doll left out in sunlight until it tarnished. The deep cut of the
bodice and tightly laced corset presented pale breasts to an almost
obscene degree, providing the appropriate finishing tackiness. Yasmin
had protested the bodice, but Elise had insisted. The dress had been
a gift from Elise's late husband, after all. It would be rude to the
dearly departed to change it from the original design. Both women had
laughed.
"Now come on," Elise urged. "You're acting like it was your first
invitation. You know what's required."
Rolling her eyes, Yasmin acquiesced and assumed the stance of the
practiced, bored courtier as she lazily approached the milling
dancers. Light music was playing, but nothing interesting caught her
attention. She allowed a man with an underwater-themed mask to pull her
into the waltz, assessing him quickly as someone as bored as her, and
no doubt married. The angry woman who grabbed her partner for the
next dance confirmed her theory, and she swiftly found herself in the
arms of Jareth's tall, dark-haired advisor. He wore only the briefest
of masks, allowing her to appreciate his chiseled cheekbones and deep
blue eyes. Even so, she kept a wary eye out for the king himself.
"Lady Yasmin, I presume," he said during a quieter section of the
music, his eyes twinkling merrily at her from behind his mirrored
black mask.
"I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage, sir," she said
flirtatiously, recognizing the invitation. "I am Yasmin, but I have
never learned your name."
"Marcus," he replied as he spun her to the music. "I am Felicite's
cousin, if that would put you more at ease."
She smiled, a genuine beaming smile that lit up her eyes. "Are you?
Shame on Felicite, for not mentioning you sooner," she chided. "I see
the resemblance."
"You see nothing of the sort," he said, amused. "I look no more like
my cousin-by-marriage than I do my cousin-by-blood the king."
Yasmin tensed briefly, but he seemed not to notice as he continued.
"Then again, I've been told I have the same dashing sensibilities as
the king, so perhaps there is hope for me after all."
He paused, and she once again realized her cue. Despite his
distasteful connections, she found herself genuinely liking the man.
"Dashing? The king? Perhaps I am bold, my lord, but I much prefer
your looks to his, and would not consider it such a compliment."
Marcus smiled at her as the music changed subtly. Yasmin was
captivated, and for once missed the orchestral cue reserved for the
entrance of royalty.
"It's truly a shame, then," he said, "for I've been leading you on,
I'm afraid."
She pressed closer to him, pouting prettily. "And how disappointing.
For what?"
"A request, we'll say," he said, as he spun her out in perfect time
to the beat. At the exact point of maximum extension, she lost
contact with his fingers.
Before she could lose momentum, a hand curled firmly around her
waist and pulled her into the next turn. She was frantic to learn her
rescuer was the Goblin King. Her heart sank, but she hid it with her
polished courtier's smile, making a mental note to strangle Elise the
next time she saw her. She carefully looked over his shoulder to look
for said victim, but she was nowhere in sight. Trapped, she kept her
composure with a string of silent curses directed at too-smooth
Marcus, traitorous Elise, and most of all, the damned Goblin King.
"Good evening, Lady Yasmin," he said smoothly to her. She was
fleetingly glad of his embrace, as it stopped her knees from buckling
at the sound of a voice she had not had directed at her in years. It
was cool and precise, knife-sharp even when expressing courtesies. It
smothered and embraced her like the harsh brush of rough velvet, much
like the blue velvet jacket she clung to now.
Recognizing with painful clarity the king's gem-dusted jacket, she
looked involuntarily up at his face.
The second mistake, as it turned out. Seeing his face from the
trailing edge of a crowd didn't hold a candle to the experience and
the sheer visceral impact of Jareth, Goblin King. The soft blue glow
hollowed his cheekbones and sharpened his nose, turning him into a
living, breathing marble statue, impossibly beautiful. Her breath
caught in her throat for a long moment at the sight. Only the
remembrance of a long, ill-fated and disturbing chain of past events
and the boiling anger it evoked returned her to her senses. She
caught him looking down at her in bemusement and realized that she
had not yet spoken.
"Your majesty," she said with a well-pitched simper, "What an honor
this is!"
"The pleasure is mine," replied Jareth, and if he was disappointed
by her saccharine tones and the horrid dress, his face and voice
showed nothing but the utmost pleasure. Despite that, she felt she
could hear the undertones of veiled sarcasm, and his handsome face
seemed but one muscle twitch from a sneer. Clearly, she was not what
he had been expecting to find in his arms.
Opening her eyes wide and bright, she played the gambit out in full.
"Such an honor," she repeated. "I've always wanted to dance with you,
Your Highness."
Yes, that was definitely a sneer forming on his face, but his voice
was still soft and smoky when he replied. "I can't imagine why we
haven't danced before--allow me to express my happiness at your
recovery from your illness. And now, if you'll excuse me?"
He pushed her aside delicately but forcefully, hurrying away with a
shake of his head to Marcus. When he was safely gone, she allowed her
smirk to blossom fully on her face, as if well-satisfied with the
politics of dancing. In truth, she was satisfied with besting the
more experienced Fae ruler, but there was no sense in portraying
anything else to the jealous women around her.
Her satisfaction lasted as long as it took to see Jareth dancing
with a young slip of a girl wearing a dress sparkling with crystal
shards. With her icy hair and blue-white dress, she reminded Yasmin
strongly of a plump icicle, albeit an icicle that was evidently
pleased with both her situation and her handsome dance partner. She
let the King whirl her around in delight, heedless of the thirteen-
hour clock behind her ticking away the time steadily.
Yasmin turned away, sickened by the temptation ritual. She had seen
many, but the ruse still had the power to turn her stomach. She
stood, frozen, when he began to sing a familiar tune to the girl. The
court milled around their king in victorious pleasure.
"I never will understand what they see in him," a distinctly male
voice cut into her thoughts, and she looked up briefly to see an
unmasked man. Tired of strangers, she nearly cut him off with a short
remark, but he spoke again.
"A young girl, probably not more than fourteen, and suddenly a
handsome devil appears and promises with songs that he's her prince.
Doesn't someone ever warn those girls not to talk to strange men? Why
are they so eager to fall into his arms? And, most importantly, why
are they so stupid as to never see the clock? Oh, I ate this peach
and suddenly here's my prince, forget about the child." He snorted,
finished with his outburst.
She let the words flow past, surprised by the animosity in his long-
winded tirade. Amused, she at last acknowledged his presence with a
slight curtsey. "I'm Yasmin, dear sir, and it is a delight to meet
someone with such original thinking." She let her eyes wander to the
waltzing king, secure in his success, then trail back to the brown-
haired Fae who had addressed her to make the source of originality
clear.
"Eglan, at your service." He had cold blue eyes, and he stared at
her breasts a trifle more than necessary, but she could see the
intelligence and sharp good humor in his expression. Deciding she
could do far worse than Duke Eglan of the Labyrinth Court, she smiled
at him seductively and drew close.
"Is this your first temptation, your grace?"
He laughed shortly. "It's not, but it's the first time I've heard
someone with backbone enough to admit it for what it is."
His candidness made her almost ready to declare an intention to
marry him. Even with his wandering gaze, he would be perfect as an
escort for the next few weeks.
"Why, Duke Eglan, we of the Masquerade Court have always had a very
clear understanding of where true power lies."
He eyed her speculatively, and then offered her his arm. "Eglan, my
dear, not Duke. Come dance with me."
She let him draw her into the cavorting crowd, and began her next
scheme.
-----
From the corner, Marcus watched her with interest, carefully noting
the object of her flirtation and her obvious change in manner since
disengaging from his king. He would warn Jareth to keep an eye on the
Lady Yasmin, particularly with her sudden interest in Duke Eglan. He
could think of few liaisons that could cause more trouble.
He shook his head. He had warned Jareth about this one, but to no
avail. A Masquerade woman scorned...
Letting the thought trail off, he disappeared from the ballroom to
finish the latest paperwork, and tend to the crying four-year-old
abandoned by her cousin for a dance with the Goblin King.