The Labyrinth: The Way Back
Author: Aviry Nolane, slvrluna47@aol.com
Rating: PG thus far
Summary: Sometimes the way forward is the way back... To the aboveground. A
courtly decision is made on Jareth`s behalf and he is forced to protect the
one he loves... Or hates... Or loves... Or doesn`t quite like, but doesn`t
really *not* approve of anyway, to keep his position. But that`s beside the
point. After as many twists and turns (possibly as many as the Labyrinth
itself) will these two manage to crash into each other? And what of the
threat of war? And courtly politics? And Jareth`s family? And my GOODNESS the
skeletons in the closet!
Keywords: J/S?
Notes: This dedicated to Saffron Angel, for she is mighty. ( and watching. )
Also: Midnight Lady, Silver Space, fae-crazed, Gail, Squeezy Stan, BatBLady, Anyastayzya, pheobemoon, General Mevnerie, Rylnina, terrie, Solea, Megan, Lady Sorrow, Redaura, JLF, Vorbis, and Caro.
:: whew! ::
Props to you all. Reviewers are worshiped for all eternity!
The Labyrinth: The Way Back
Chapter 16 - We All Make Mistakes
The sentiments were much the same for the dark eyed fae who watched this same passage through his scrying pool.
The young man let out a sigh of boyish exhaustion.
"No, no," he chuckled to himself; "this will just not do at all."
Shaking his head, he raised himself from his seat before the scrying pool and strode toward the large wooden chest near the door to his chamber. The light was bright and clean here, most of the illumination coming from the glass ceilings overhead, and the few sparse glowing crystals with floated freely above him. He reached up to pull a smaller light crystal near to the chest to illuminate the area behind the double doors.
The small bauble tingled beneath his fingers, and as he let it go it lightly made its way to the top of the enclosure.
"Let me just see what I have here," Alec murmured to himself, his branching fingertips sifting through the throng of vials and plant life that permeated his alchemy chest. "Carrowax, Halbotal, Misquit, Falraj," His face scrunched into a look of disgust as he stuck his fingers in what appeared to be a mixture of seaweed and goblin dung. "Bladwat."
Appearances are not always deceiving.
He shook his head, wiping his soiled hands on a small towel, which hung on the side of the door. As he did so, his marriage band clipped a small vial, producing a light ringing through the room. "What have we here?" he questioned, leaning closer, "Blesphemene?"
The shadowy fae's face lit with recognition, a strange glow slipping across his features.
Reaching out, he pulled the small red vial from its velvet encasing.
"You, my little friend," he spoke to the vial, "will make me a very happy man."
Laughing, the tall form of Jareth's former student, now teacher, reached for his cloak and was gone.
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Jareth paced his study anxiously.
Of course he had no intention of going to see Sarah that night, what could Alec be thinking? Boisterous child.
Honestly, it had occurred to him that perhaps the younger fae were a bit lacking in the logical sense, but he never would have expected such a variable burst of ignorance from someone he had taken into his own studies.
True, Alec was only a few hundred years younger than he was, but apparently, that meant nothing in the realm of realistic goal management.
And Jareth was usually a master of realistic goal management.
Or so he believed.
"I'm not expecting her to fall in love with me," Jareth quipped angrily at the small statuette of a dancing bear on his desk, "I'm asking her to live up to her half of the bargain. Really, you'd think he was trying his hand at love connection."
Of course this statement would have been a great deal more ironic had Jareth actually ever heard of or seen the American hit television series, Love Connection, but Jareth hardly had any idea what Americans were, let alone television.
"And what's more," continued Jareth, apparently enjoying this little debate of wits between himself and the small inanimate brass object, "he thought that I would be distracted by that little minx? Head in the clouds? Ha!" Jareth laughed heartily, a rather obnoxious undertone lacing his confusion. "Just who does he think I am? Some heartsick mid-quartered teenager?"
As the fae have no word for the mortal "puberty" the phrase "mid-quartered" had somehow worked itself into their vocabulary, but the meaning was entirely the same.
"And I am not distracted in the least. I am in my prime," he paused here, shaking his finger at the dancing brass animal with emphasis, "I can concentrate perfectly well on business. After all, I am a king, not a sturling!"
Again, the language barrier becomes apparent. It seems at some point the fae community took the mortal, English word "student" to be "sturling", no one is entirely sure how such an exchange worked out, and as the fae are mostly self-involved pompous egomaniacs; no one is really terribly concerned with trivialities like language.
"Head in the clouds," he scoffed, "wondering about some girl I have locked away somewhere. As if I am incapable of concentrating because that harpy of a girl is safely tucked away in my house. Ridiculous!"
He stopped here, hands on his hips, breathing heavily towards his audience.
"Well?"
The bear danced on, oblivious.
Distraught by the lack of support he received from the usually jovially dancing bear, he threw his hands up in the air and fell back into a stuffed chair behind him.
Reaching for a folder thick with documents before him, he reclined into the chair's embrace.
"I can concentrate just fine," he directed at the bear, "you just watch."
After an intense moment of locking stares between himself and the bear, it seemed the bear was again victorious.
"Milene!" Jareth shouted.
He had to wait but a moment before his shout was answered with a soft murmur from the doorway, "Yes, milord?"
Jareth was facing the opposite direction, preferring to wage a second staring battle with the brass statue than to turn to see his servant; he gestured her in with a flick of his wrist.
"Bring me my dinner, Milene."
"Of course, milord," came the soft pattered reply.
At once, a steaming plate of food was brought before him, along with a hearty goblet of wine.
Admitting defeat to his foe, Dancing Bear, he closed his eyes, reclined back into his chair and drained the whole of the goblet.
We all make mistakes.
- - - - - - + avi. ( email me, pweeze? comments? )
