Unprecedented
It had been nearly three years since the Labyrinth's Champion had run its course and shattered his heart with the words he gave her. Three long, miserable years since he'd seen or heard from her and he was still angry. Still humiliated. Still unbelievably hurt. After that last night of watching her celebrate her conquest of his Kingdom and of him, he found he could not bear the pain of her refusal and stopped. No longer did he seek her beautiful visage in his scrying crystal. No longer did he transform and watch over her in the Aboveground.
He had changed so much since that night. The halls of his castle did not ring with boisterous laughter and music. He wouldn't tolerate it. He felt the music had died the night he gazed into her steely, emerald eyes as she proclaimed that he had no power over her. Now, his beloved castle was as melancholy as its King. The Bog of Eternal Stench used to be only a favored threat. A punishment reserved only for the most serious crimes. By now, he had thrown so many of his people into it that they'd had to form their own village on the outskirts of the city, and all for the slightest offenses. He no longer smiled. He had nothing worth smiling about. He no longer spoke at Court meetings with the other rulers of the Nine Realms. He had nothing to say. What infuriated him most was the knowledge that, should she call to him, he would eagerly return to her side, not out of obligation due his position, but because he still loved her after all this time. She was his world and he was but a slave to his love's desires.
Jareth hadn't spoken to the friends she'd made in the Labyrinth either, though as with all his subjects, he kept an eye on them, and what he saw soured his mood further. The dwarf rarely left his oubliette except to tend to the gardens and keep the fairy population down at the Gates. The Knight flew into fits of rage whenever someone dared approach his bridge. The troll had found a cave and never came back out again. It appeared as though his Sarah had neglected even those she claimed to care about. He hated it. Hated what she had done to he and his Kingdom. She had turned his world upside down and left without a second thought. Yet he could not rid himself of the love he felt for her.
He had tried to see reason with her decision. Jareth knew his Sarah was a stubborn, determined girl, solely focused on her task. Her pride, her inner strength, her willpower were what drew him to her in the first place and watching her flourish in his Domain enflamed his passions beyond anything he could have imagined. So why was he so surprised when, in the end, she never shirked from her goal? He tried to contend with her tender age being a factor. She was just barely into her adolescence in human years. Merely an infant by Fae standards. It was likely she had no idea what he was offering. But as much as he tried to understand, and did understand, he simply could not shake the hurt and betrayal he felt from the moment she'd spurned his affections. In turn, he ignored her existence the second she was gone from his sight and tried to forget what he knew he never would.
Jareth stalked along the outermost border of his Empire. He had felt the signs of a wished-away child, though why he was not summoned to the child's location in the Aboveground was beyond him. The second strange occurrence regarding this child was that he could not feel the tether between it and the one who wished it away. It was for those reasons the King felt compelled to investigate. After all, it was the first thing to have caught his interest since that night, therefore he decided it was worth his attention.
What he saw confounded him further. A little girl, no older than ten he guessed, lay face-down in the dust, wearing nothing but a filthy, silken sleeping gown. He rolled her over dispassionately with the toe of his boot and sneered at the bruises that covered the girls face. Children born in the Nine Realms were revered, being such a rarity. With that mindset, he would never understand why a hand would ever be raised against any child, Fae or otherwise. Continuing to inspect the girl, he still could not detect a link between her and the wisher. The girl groaned and Jareth schooled his features into that of passivity. She opened her eyes and gasped as she took in the sight of him.
"Goblin King," she whispered in awe. "You are real." He raised a slender eyebrow at her.
"Indeed," he replied simply. The girl beamed, tears filling her ice-blue eyes. She tried to sit up but immediately crumbled over, pain replacing her smile in the same instant. "You are injured." She nodded, grimacing in silent agony. This confused him. Was it not the nature of children to cry out when they were in pain or scared? Curiosity had the King crouching beside her, easing her back to the ground, his expression and voice softening. "How?" The girl trembled as fear overwhelmed her face and her arms wrapped themselves around her frail body protectively.
"I-I-I…" Her breathing quickened. Whatever this girl had been through had clearly traumatized the little thing.
"Alright, alright. You need not speak of it," he soothed, stroking the girl's filthy black hair. He stopped when she flinched away from his touch. Jareth was surprised by her actions having intended it to be a calming gesture. "What is your name, little one?"
"M-marie."
"And how is it that you came to be here, Marie?"
"I-I just wished for it. I'm sorry. I just wanted to be away from there. I-" Jareth held up his hand, halting her stammered apologies.
"What do you mean, you wished yourself here?" Fear overtook her again and he cursed his harsh tone. Not that he could be blamed for it. Such a thing had never happened in his long memory. If someone was weakening the magic of his Kingdom to the point that humans could simply wish themselves away from their petty problems, he needed to know about it.
The child nodded. "Master Thaddeus locked me back up after Master Derrick was done p-p-punishing me. I couldn't help it. I wished to be safe with the Goblin King in the Labyrinth." Jareth laughed derisively.
"I'm afraid whoever told you you'd be safe here spoke nothing but lies. There is naught but traps and snares within my Realm. Dangers around every corner. And that's before you are turned into a goblin. Tell me, child. Does that sound safe to you?" A sudden flash of anger crossed the little girl's eyes.
"Big Sister doesn't lie! Big Sister is the nicest girl ever!" She defended heatedly before absolute terror engulfed her and she slapped her tiny hands over her battered face, wincing in the process. "I'm so sorry," she whispered, shaking like a leaf in the wind. "I'm sorry. I-I-I didn't mean t-to. Master, please forgive me!" Tears poured out of her blue eyes and when he raised both hands in a soothing motion, she initially flinched before a look of acceptance came over her as if she expected to be hit. When he backed off and lowered his hands again, Marie looked at him confused. "Aren't you going to punish me?"
"Whatever for?" He replied, disregarding the fact that had anyone else dared to raise their voice and contradict him, he already would have opened a portal straight to the Bog without a second thought.
"I yelled at my Master," she stated as though it were obvious.
"I see. And what is the usual punishment for yelling?"
"The Master we disrespected would slap us across the face to the other side of the room."
"We?" Mary nodded, sneezing when a breeze stirred the dust around them, cringing and hissing as the action aggravated wounds he could not see. Jareth huffed impatiently before snapping his fingers and transporting them to one of the guest chambers that were only used when he hosted a Nine Realms celebration. Once he'd seen to it that she was laid out on the bed, he tuned towards the door. "I will send a healer for you and some clothing and food. You may clean yourself up in there," he pointed at the bathing room. "Once you are refreshed, I will send for you. Be warned. You have thirteen hours until you are transformed into one of my subjects."
The medallion on his chest that connected him to the Heart of the Labyrinth flared white-hot against his skin at Its displeasure. The King didn't even hear the girl's response as he raced towards the chamber where the Heart of the Labyrinth burned bright. Jareth may be the Goblin King, in charge of all the Labyrinth, the Entrance to, and Heart of the other Realms, and born a powerful Fae in his own right, but the Labyrinth was Its own Entity as well. It had Its own magic, Its own will, Its own mind. Jareth and his Labyrinth were truly equals. If the Labyrinth was displeased, he would listen as it listened to him.
"What say you?"
"The girl," Its raspy voice sounded in his mind as always.
"What of her?"
"She is not to be turned." The Goblin King froze in astonishment. The Labyrinth ignoring Its own rules? Unheard of! Wished-aways had thirteen hours to be reclaimed or they would be transformed into goblins and live within the city eternally. That was the Law. In the whole course of history, it had never been broken before!
"Am I to know why? Jareth asked, incredulously.
"You may ask, though you will be dissatisfied with the answer, old friend."
"I'll take my chances," he replied.
"There are events, my friend, that have not yet unfolded themselves. Events that depend on the girl remaining in her human state."
"And I suppose I am not to know of these events?"
"You know the answer to that already, Jareth. There is much to gain from this, and yet much more to be lost. For now, the only advice I can offer you is to listen and watch. Things will become clearer with time." Jareth nodded his understanding. The Labyrinth couldn't exactly tell the future, per se, but It did have premonitions when something important was about to take place. Premonitions he would be foolish to ignore. "One more thing before you tend to the little girl."
"Yes?" he asked, rolling his eyes now. The Labyrinth had just as much a flair for the dramatics as he.
"She will not be the only one." The physical manifestation of the Heart faded and vanished, leaving Jareth, as always, brimming with more questions than answers.
The King entered his throne room and flung himself across his throne, chin held between his fingers, attempting to decipher the various meanings behind what he was just told. He knew it to be a lost cause, however. He could spin the words around for hours and come no closer to any insight. 'Listen and watch, hmm?' It seemed as much a warning as advice. Realizing he was merely wasting time at this point, he called for one of the nameless servants lurking in the shadows to fetch his healer.
"You summoned, Majesty?" An aged voice drew him from contemplation a little while later.
"Indeed, Ghilanna." Jareth took stock of the elf who had served as his family's healer since the days of his great-grandfather. "There is a young girl in the Woodland Chamber in need of your services. She has been gravely injured, though how, I know not. Once you have tended her, I expect you to return with a full report as to the extent."
"Yes, Majesty," she replied, bowing low. When she had exited, he sent for a goblin he knew to be eager to please. She was cowering before him in a matter of minutes.
"Relde. There is a human girl in the Woodland Chamber who is currently being looked over by Ghilanna. When she is finished, see to it the girl is cleaned and dressed properly. Upon completion of the task, you are to bring the girl here. I am appointing you her personal attendant. Do not fail me in this, Relde, or the Bog of Eternal Stench will be the least of your worries."
"Eeeep! Of course not, your Highness. I-I-I mean of-of course. I-I…," she squeaked, trembling with terror.
"Just go." She squeaked again, tripping over herself on her way out. "Imbecile," he muttered before sending for his Head of Kitchens. He sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. "What a pain," he lamented. "My friend, you'd better be right about this. I've already half a mind to turn her now for all the trouble she's causing." His medallion flared again, though not as hot as last time. "I said I've half a mind," Jareth grumbled, almost petulantly. Ten minutes passed still he waited. "Where is he?" Jareth demanded, sitting straighter on his throne as he was wont to do when in a particularly foul mood.
"Apologies, your Majesty. I had to ensure the dinner preparations were underway before I was able to leave in confidence."
"Spare me your pathetic excuses, Grybar," the King sneered. "If you weren't the finest cook in the Realm, I'd have your feet for a trophy seeing as you don't care to use them to answer a summons in a timely manner." The goblin bowed, well used to threats like these on a daily basis. "I called you here to discuss some additions to the menu."
"Additions, your Highness?"
"We will have a…guest for the forseeable future. This guest has a preference for Aboveground cuisine. Therefore, you are to provide an appropriate selection of courses with each meal." The goblin bristled.
"You want me to do what?!" Jareth raised a slender eyebrow. "I beg your pardon, Highness, but think of what you're asking me to do! Not only do I now have to prepare another four courses for tonight alone, they have to be dishes that I've never done before?! I've never cooked human food and I don't know anyone who has! I don't even know where I'm supposed to get ingredients for that! Surely you can forgive a little frustration on my part." Jareth narrowed his gaze at the creature before him.
"That is quite a presumption, Grybar, to think I would so easily forgive such blatant disrespect." His voice was quiet. Calm. Deadly. "If you truly cannot handle the task, I will send for someone who can. I know the Elven Kingdom frequently delights in human things; food included. Now, trying to get a chef from that Realm over here on such short notice will be a challenge, but if I must due to the incompetence of my own staff, I will. And you will pay dearly for the trouble. A culinary artist, I think I would take your tongue so that you may no longer taste, followed by your nose so that you can no longer smell. Does that sound like a fair trade? Ending the livelihood that you can't adequately perform?" Jareth produced a crystal to do exactly that and watched Grybar's face pale, his yellow eyes bulging, and grinned, tossing the crystal lightly in his hand.
"Th-that w-w-won't be n-necessary, your M-majesty. I-I-I-I can handle it," he stammered, backing away slowly.
"See that you do."
"Yes, Sire. R-right away, S-sire." He turned and darted for the door.
"One more thing," the King called as Grybar reached for the handle. The goblin froze. "For your outburst and tardiness, you are hereby required to partake of the meals as well for as long as she remains in the castle. You will eat in the Great Hall with us and not breathe a hint of discomfort while you do so. After all, you would not want to upset my guest, now would you?" Jareth leered at his top chef. Human food was too heavy for a goblin's stomach and though not toxic, would cause them moderate nausea for hours after consumption. He chuckled inwardly at Grybar's head lowering in defeat.
"No, your Highness."
"Good. Now get out of my sight before I change my mind about replacing you." He cracked his riding crop against the side of his throne for emphasis and Grybar scurried out as fast as his short legs could carry him.
An hour passed. Then two. Jareth paced the length of his throne room awaiting the return of his healer. Halfway into the third hour, her arrival was announced. He watched her stumble in and instantly accosted the woman, unthinkingly. "Well?" He demanded before taking stock of her.
Ghilanna trembled. Her crimson-colored eyes were red-rimmed as if she'd been crying. Her face was pale and her brow shone with sweat, evidence of having used a great deal of magic in a short span of time. Most concerning were her drooping ears. An elf's pointed ears only drooped when the individual was frightened or disturbed. It was a tell-tale sign that they had been trying to master for eons but strangely, it was a trait that never failed them. She gazed up at him with watery eyes.
"Not...not here," she whispered shakily. He nodded and they were immediately in his private study. Jareth conjured a tray with the Elves preferred tea, adding a boost of Calming Sense to the mixture. "Thank you, Sire," she breathed gratefully, taking a seat across from his desk. In all his years, he had never seen her so distressed and he'd witnessed her healing war victims without so much as a flinch.
"What have you found, Ghilanna?" He probed gently.
"In truth, Sire, I hardly know where to begin," she replied softly, gazing into her cup.
"Will she survive?" Was this possible future over before it even began?
"Yes, though in what capacity, I cannot say."
"What do you mean, Ghilanna? You are speaking in riddles."
"I have healed what injuries I could, though there are some that are even beyond my skills. The things I suspect were done to that poor child." She began crying in earnest. Jareth waited for her to collect herself, internally resisting the urge to demand the information. "I'm…I'm sorry, Sire," she sniffed a short while later. He may have sped up the process by subtly nudging a calming crystal to her with his boot, though he'd never admit to it. "It's just…I never knew humans could be so cruel."
"It is quite alright, Ghilanna. I understand." How could he not? His Sarah had been cruel. He'd offered her everything and she had turned away without a thought. She had abused his heart and his subjects. The healer gazed at him with haunted eyes.
"No, Majesty. I don't believe you do."
"Would you prefer I capture your memories?" He held up a crystal and offered it to her. She shook her head, sighing deeply.
"I appreciate the gesture, Majesty, but no." Ghilanna sighed again. "I suppose I'll start by telling you that I've put the girl into a strong slumber while some of her worst injuries heal. She'll not wake for several hours yet." Jareth nodded, encouraging the old elf to continue. "There were six ribs to reconnect, her leg as well. More bruises than I dared count, all in the shapes of large hands or boots. They covered her and went several layers deep, some even to her organs. I have rid her of those. She is malnourished, though that can be healed with time. Her wrist had been broken once but not tended to and it set wrong." She shuddered, hunching inward. "I was forced to re-break it in order to mend it properly."
"I see." The King felt sickened by the long list of wounds inflicted upon this strange, human child. "She was asleep when you did so?"
"Of course, Majesty." He scrutinized the woman. Something wasn't adding up. These wounds were trivial compared to some of the victims he'd seen her treat. Revolting as it was that they were laid upon a child, such things shouldn't have made her react the way she had. None of those were beyond her skills as she'd warned.
"There is more, isn't there?" He coaxed gently.
"You always were perceptive, Highness. Yes, there is more. By far, the most troubling of all. You see, there is extensive damage to her womb that I cannot heal. It is too great. That girl is but a babe," Ghilanna whispered, horrified. "Still a child even by human standards, but her maidenhood is gone."
"What are you trying to say, Ghilanna?" He couldn't fathom it. 'Her maidenhood is gone'? What did that mean?
"I believe," the healer whispered, tears gathering in her crimson eyes, "that young girl was forced into womanhood. And judging by the damage I saw, it was not done with care. I am saying, Jareth, that while a healer with greater skill than I might be able to return her ability to conceive later, none will be able to give her back what was stolen from her."
It was silent for a long time after that while Jareth attempted to process the information. Being a rather sexual Fae and a King besides, he was no stranger to carnal desire and had never had a reason to deny himself the physical pleasures of either sex. As there were no shortage of those aching for him to take to his bed, he had indulged in the satisfaction whenever possible and had been with all manner of creatures. That was, until the day he first saw his Sarah. Since that fateful day, there were none who could tempt him though many had tried. However, in his long history of encounters, not one had been without the willingness of his partner. He had never taken that which was not freely given and could not wrap his head around the thought that there existed those who might.
That in and of itself was disturbing. But to do such a thing to a child? The number of unclaimed wished-aways was horrible enough, he always thought. Jareth always knew he would never understand the cruelty that some humans would show their youth, but this was something else entirely. The very idea of it left his stomach soured and his blood boiling. To sexually desire the innocence and purity of a child…it was incomprehensible to him and he refused to acknowledge it as fact. It was just too abhorrent to contend with.
"This simply cannot be," the King muttered. "There has to be another explanation for the damage. Perhaps a birth defect is the cause."
"Do you suppose I would speak falsely of such claims?" She asked, anger flashing in her eyes. Jareth breathed heavily, shaking his head and pouring himself a cup of the Calming tea, wishing it was something stronger.
"I know you voice the truth of your findings. It's just…these things you report are…"
She sighed. "I know, my King. I know. To think that there is someone in the Aboveground who would even consider such an act…" Ghilanna shuddered. "Shall I send for a more powerful healer to attend her?"
"Let that be her choice. For now, you should retire. Rest well, for I fear more to come." The old healer gasped.
"You couldn't possibly mean…" Jareth nodded, the Labyrinth's words ringing in his ears. Ghilanna closed her eyes. "I will do what I can but I will need help if the others are in similar conditions. Healing this one alone took a great deal out of me. With all of those broken bones, I had to take extreme caution not to impede her ability to grow."
"Very well. Though I must demand that the one you send for be discreet. Until I can determine what this means, I do not want it getting out to the other Realms that children are arriving at the Gates in this state."
"Of course, your Majesty. The one I choose to assist me will not breathe a word of it in any form."
"Good. Now, go and rest well, Ghilanna." He dismissed her with a wave of his hand and she bowed out of his study gracefully.
After vanishing the tea tray, Jareth heaved a great sigh, sinking into one of the lush couches that adorned the room. So many questions and several hours yet before any of them could be answered. He had never been a very patient man. He huffed and rose, transporting himself to the Great Hall for his evening meal, determined to see Grybar's punishment started. Jareth leered with satisfaction to watch this disrespectful Head of Kitchens force his way through each bite and enjoyed scolding him further for the expression of disdain on his face. But even that could not last long and the King was once again left waiting on his throne for the girl to awaken. Still the questions circled in his mind. He stood by a window watching as night passed over his Kingdom and dawn broke. 'It should not be long now,' he thought to himself, retaking his throne, ready to receive the girl.