Chapter Three

As Tara watched rage fill Jareth's eyes, she preyed that he would wave the fact of her apparent disobediancy with a swift 'whatever', but as he pushed away from her, letting her fall to the floor (though she landed gracefully on her feet), and dug his hands into his hair, looking stressed, she realized that wasn't going to happen.

What was so important about that necklace, anyway?

"Tara..." He growled lowly. She could tell he was forcing his patience as he turned to glare at her, "Why are you not wearing the amulet?"

She felt a bit special that giving her a chance to explain seemed to be high on his priorities list, but it did nothing to calm her down. "I couldn't get it on." She stated uncertainly, staying by the wall, "I didn't feel like dealing with it."

He let out a sharp breath, throwing his mane of silvery hair out of his face, though it didn't do for very long. "There are many things in the underground," He explained patiently, "That are far less... generous than I have been."

Rage filled Tara's entire being. Generous! How was holding her, and her beloved niece as his slaves, generous! But the emotion left her almost immediately as she watched him run his hand through his thick hair. "Why are you telling me this?" She asked nervously, her eyes widening uncertainly as she lowered her head a little to stare at his chest rather than his face, suddenly feeling unworthy.

"The Labyrinth is in a sort of Civil War." He went on, "Most of my... my enemies wouldn't hesitate to harm you..."

"Jareth..." It shocked her a little that she was using his actual name, but she didn't have time to think about that.

"That amulet was meant to protect you, should I fall." Jareth came out with finally. Tara froze, a whirlwind of emotions flowing through her body. He simply watched her as she lowered her gaze to the floor, confused, degraded. Why would he give -her- such a precious amulet? Why was her safety so important to him? How could she have been so impatient as to just drop it on the bed?

On the bed! It was probably still there!

"I left it on the bed." She stated hurriedly, feeling the need to redeem herself, "It's probably still there, the goblins--"

"No." Jareth sighed, shaking his head, "They have been following you for some time, on the above ground. They will have taken it." A shudder ran down her spine as she slid down the wall to sit. Why were they following her? Why was she so damned important in this fued?

"Who are they?" She asked emotionlessly, looking up at him as he kneeled before her. "Why do they want me?"

He sat in silence for a long while, just staring at her. Should she tell her? -Could- he tell her? He didn't know very well himself. He had intended to take her, use whatever it was his enemies wanted her for against them, and dispose of her. He fell in love with her voice, however, and changed his intentions to keeping her for that purpose, and then, when he tired of her, he would dispose of her.

As he watched her, however, he began to fall in love with her spirit, as well. Her strength, her courage, and her undying love for the child. She was queen material, unlike so many fae who had tried to get his attention, and he wanted her as his queen. Her beauty-- raw, and dark-- was a definate added bonus.

He knew not their intentions, however. He severely doubted they were more honorable than his own had been.

"Elves." He answered finally, "A legion of my goblins are being led by the elves." He sighed, lowering his head as she continued to stare numbly into him. He could've sworn she could tell he was hiding something of his own. "I know not why they chose you."

"Why did -you- choose me?" She asked quietly, all emotion blocked from her voice.

"Because they did." He admitted honestly. For some reason, he found the urge to tell this mortal the truth. it was what she deserved, was it not? "I assumed that you must have some spectacular elven magic which they wanted to harness. I must admit, however, I have seen evidence of nothing except perhaps intolerable impatience."

Tara glared hard. She wanted out of the castle. Now. Here, she had even begun to feel -guilty-. What a mistake -that- was.

"Then let me go." She snarled, "Give me Xanthe, and send me to the above ground." Her voice was dangerously low, masked by her rage. She did not waver as Jareth turned her glare toward her. She did not even blink against the whithering look that sent most goblins, and mortals alike into panicked frenzies. He was about to say something, but she interupted him. "-Now-, Goblin King."

He sneered at her, throwing her backwards with a wave of a hand. She went down, and skidded toward the throne, her back hitting it hard as she lay on the floor, arm over her head, and groaning. Well. That had been an unnerving experiance. Not quite as painful as she had expected, but unnerving nontheless.

"No." He sneered, "I think I'll keep my trophies." What compassion he had had for her was gone completely now. He was the goblin king again, complete with his terrible magnificence.

Stiffly, she pressed her palms to the cold floor, and pushed herself half up, head turning, and black matted hair falling into her face. The throne behind her exploded into a million tiny bits, and her eyes flashed golden for a milisecond.

"I'll ask you one more time, Goblin king." She snarled, "Give me my niece, and let. Me. Go." Her rage was getting out of control. She could feel her fury like a solid fire, passing through her veins rather than her blood like a shield. She felt invincible-- no, not just invincible, but powerful.. important.. beautiful.. confident. She was everything she wanted to be, and she was loving it. She knew somewhere inside of her that it was wrong, but she pushed that minor detail aside.

"Amazing..." Jareth breathed quietly, stepping toward her.

As her hair began to turn into solid gold, she decided to test out her new powers, by sweeping her own hand through the air. Jareth went flying.

Unfortunately, this used up too much energy, too quickly, and she too went down, out cold.

When she woke up, she was no longer in the castle. In fact, looking around, she noted that she wasn't in the Labyrinth at all. Where the Labyrinth held a kind of dark magnificence in its aura that Tara didn't realize she was so fond of, this place was bright, and obnoxious. Just being here made her want to curl into a corner, and hide from anyone who could possibly stand living in such a world.

The option steadily became more and more appealing as a man walked into the lavishly decorated room. He was tall, standing so straight that he seemed to be trying to lean backwards, and with golden hair that cascaded beautifully down his back. Everything about his face betrayed his graceful movements, and gorgeous hair. His nose was sharp, his eyes a cold chrome, and his lips were thin, curled into a sneer. His fingers were long, and boney, moving constantly as if to twirl what was not there about his hands. The tunic he wore was a dark magenta color, making him look even more pale, and more horrifying than he had already acquired just by being born.

She didn't have to look twice at his gracefully pointed ears to see that he was one of the before mentioned elves.

"Get away from me!" Tara demanded hotly, trying despirately to climb to her feet, and off of the cold dirty floor, but her legs failed her, as if they had died during her long rest. She glanced to them in exaspiration, and saw the rope tying her ankles together. She couldn't have gotten up if her legs -did- work. "Get away from me!" She shrieked again with slightly less confidence, crawling as far away from the approaching monster as she could.

She let out a cry of pain as he wound his horrifying fingers in his hair, and yanked her up to face him. Tears coming to her eyes, she tried to force him to let go, to no avail.

"You, Adriana DeLearté, have been a very, bad, girl." He sneered.


Authors Notes: I apologize for the time it took to load this chapter onto I'd forgotten I hadn't done it yet, and then I checked my stats after a week or so. Hehe... so, yeah. Anyways, The Labyrinth doesn't belong to me, and nor does Jareth. Tara, however, does belong to me, and I swear I'll throw you into the Bog of Eternal Stench if you try to steal her from me!