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A writing note: I don't think I've been consistent with some capitalizations, sorry! Enjoy a glimpse into the realm of the Labyrinth and beyond!
Jareth sat in his throne room contemplating the events of the previous day. He held his chin in his hand and thoughtfully ran his thumb along his jawbone. He was unsure how to proceed. He was receiving mixed signals.
"Sire...? ventured Darell timidly. Jareth's eyes flicked lazily to the goblin in acknowledgement.
"Sire, you're might be late. If you stay much longer. Perhaps," Darell said in his broken, nervous way.
"I consider my own schedule as the framework to which 'time' is relevant," the king replied plainly.
Jareth wanted to sit and think about Sarah's kiss. He wanted to plan his next move. But, he sat only for a moment before he sighed in exasperation; he couldn't remain there under Darell's wide, nervous eyes. That goblin radiated worry like static electricity, and Jareth couldn't concentrate while the little beast stood there staring, lips quivering, fingers twitching.
Jareth's outfit that day was like the night sky. His midnight blue shirt with long sleeves was flat, plain material, missing the usual ruffles or shimmer, but it was flecked with gold every couple inches like stars in the heavens. His black leggings were tucked into dark blue leather boots. He wore a long, heavy cape of midnight-blue velvet. The cape had shoulder pads and a headboard of spikes that extended straight into the air behind his head, looking like a mountain scape. The effect made him look larger and more imposing than he already was.
The Goblin King stood, and in a single twirl and a flourish of his cape he was gone.
"Truly, we should just begin," said the Fae Queen in exasperation. Her king took her hand and gave a small squeeze.
The Ten Year Council sat in throne-like oak chairs surrounding a circular table of opaque, blue crystal. Amalia Fairskies, queen of the Fae, understood the temperament of her countryman, Jareth, but did not approve of his seeming disdain for order and rules. She felt his arrogance was near unbearable.
"He will be here. He wouldn't miss making an entrance," said the merqueen in her slow and deep voice. She was not physically present, but a milky white apparition of her sat on the chair, the green of her tail and violet of her hair pale in her magical projection.
As if on cue, a crystal ball appeared a few inches above the center of the table, rapidly spinning. It rose several feet, spinning all the while. The crystal popped in a cloud of blue glitter, and a barn owl emerged. Jareth flew fast, sweeping around the room twice, sure to fly annoyingly close to the heads of his fellow councilmen. The barn owl flew over the empty chair, and in a midair barrel-roll, Jareth turned into his Fae form and landed gracefully in the seat.
"Hello, everyone," he said in unceremonious familiarity. "Hubert, good to see you," he said throwing the High Wizard a wink. He received a good natured chuckle in return from the wise, old man.
Jareth looked at his peers. Directly to his left was the sorcerer Chikrish Fathad, sultan of Baghreb, the desert city where the sorcerers lived. Chikrish's skin was browned and weathered from the sun, with deep lines in his leathery face making him appear older than he was. He wore long traditional robes of red and gold and a turban with a large ruby fixed in the center. In one of his many-ringed hands was a wooden staff with the head of a tiger carved at its top. Sorcerers, like the more powerful Fae, could turn into animals. Unlike the Fae, sorcerers chose their animal totem, a single animal form they could take, and channeled their magic through a staff.
To his right were the glowing figures of merking and merqueen Borren and Lealilyn. In the oceans that separated the lands, there were many kingdoms. Jareth did not envy the royal couple and all the overseeing they had to do. Borren held his trident firmly in his right hand. The ocean held many magical objects only Merfolk possessed the magic to use—or, the magic to imbue and then use. Borren's aquamarine tail was topped with a torso of rippling muscles, necklaces of scallop shells lying across his broad chest. His chestnut hair and beard contrasted with his emerald eyes, which shone bright even through the apparition. Jareth thought Lealilyn was possibly the most beautiful magical creature he had ever seen. The Fae and Naiads were rumored to be unmatched in beauty, but Jareth much preferred Lealilyn's thick, violet hair that billowed around her dense as smoke. The merwomen did not always cover their breasts, though they did so—some more often than others—only out of fashion. Lealilyn's breasts, were small yet perky though almost flat, and today they were covered by a sheathe of tiny coquina shells delicately woven into a thin tapestry. Around her neck was a string of six, large pearls. No one knew their exact powers, only that you did not want to find out the extent of said powers. Monarchies in the realms did not default to patriarchies, rather to whoever was the rightful successor of the throne. Couples could function with equal political power, should they so choose. While Borren was the political spearhead of this couple, everyone knew the queen did a great deal behind the scenes—purposefully keeping most of her dealings in secret. There was an unspoken awe (though perhaps "fear" was a better word) for the merqueen. Those who met her said she was the kindest being in all the lands, the most caring ruler in all history. Yet, her citizens knew she was the one to take on responsibility for dealing with the more heinous law-breakers, and they whispered of her supposed black market treaties and trades.
To the left of Chikrish was the pixie Pickering Junip, standing one foot tall, head representative of the Alliance of Sprites, a union of the magical races residing within the Great Forest: Pixies, Brownies, Elves, Dryads, Naiads, and Nixies (sometimes called Kelpies). Merfolk and Selkies were given representation, though they did not hold much political power, as their presence within the forest was not great enough to cause want for more than representation. Jareth wondered if the Imps would ever be granted a permanent representative; their primitive nature was almost equal to the fairies. Though, there were those liberal sprites who fought for equal rights, regardless of the Imps' mental abilities. The Great Forest was a democracy, though the individual races often functioned as monarchies. Jareth wondered how a mixing of political systems could work so well.
Directly across from Jareth to Pick's left was Malachi Krosh, the Ice King. The Ice Giants stood between ten and twelve feet high with navy blue-gray skin. Some giants gave permanence to their ability to turn to solid, translucent ice, though it was still flexible as flesh. They were humanoid, but their rough features looked as though they had been hewn from ice itself. Malachi wore a metal breastplate over a simple gray burlap-like shirt that had a matching pant. On his head resided a thick banded crown. It was a large, single piece of metal the color of pewter, coming to several peaks around the circumference as the crowns of the Renaissance. However, inlaid within the center peak that sat over his brow was a fist-sized onyx. Its cut was rough, not carved into a symmetrical gemstone. The Ice Giants seemed to be the outliers of the magic users. The magic of each land was different. Each magic-using race had their own variation of power. However, the Ice Giants' magic lie solely in the properties of ice.
To Lealilyn's right was Hubert Highclark, High Wizard of the wizarding world of Wexford. His wizened old eyes sparkled blue from under bushy white eyebrows that were a match to his long white hair, beard, and mustache. His robes were the opposite of Chikrish's ornate and opulent garb: simple, gray silk. In his left hand was a wooden wand with delicate scrollwork of vines and leaves carved into it. Wizards were similar to sorcerers in that they channeled their magic through a wooden conduit. However, wizards used language to activate their spells, giving them a wider range of abilities.
Finally, to the right of Hubert, were Fae queen and king Amalia and Grenneth Fairskies. Amalia was certainly the ruling monarch in this couple. Fae were Fae, united by blood and race. But, there was old animosity between the royal Fae of the Crystal City and the royal Fae of the Goblin City and Labyrinth. The Crystal City Fae liked to work themselves into a superiority complex with the Fae in the Goblin City. Perhaps it was only an old notion that the Fae of the Goblin City were lesser than those in the Crystal City, that they were lazy, childish, and irresponsible for choosing to live in a place that often did not earn respect. Grenneth dressed as Jareth—without the glitter and flair: tan leather pants, white shirt, mahogany-colored leather vest and boots, and a royal cape of black satin bejeweled with deep red amethysts. His crown was silver and delicate with a cluster of diamonds, rubies, and sapphires in the center. Amalia matched Grenneth in a floor-length white satin dress. Dark red amethysts were inlaid around the wrists of the long sleeves, neckline, and bottom of the skirt. Her crown was also a delicate object of silver, the wisps of intertwining metal fine as milkweed silk. The collection of rubies, sapphires, and diamonds in the center of her crown were a constellation of Columba, the Dove, representative of her animal form.
"I hope I haven't missed any tantalizing discussion," the Goblin King said in soft, languorous sarcasm.
Amalia opened her mouth to retort, but Pickering spoke first.
"We waited. We respect the entirety of the Council," quipped the pixie gently.
"So relieved to hear that," the Goblin King grumbled.
Hubert quickly spoke before conversation came to blows. "I will be the first to formally commence the Ten Year Council." He cleared his throat. "I, Hubert Highclark, represent the wizarding world of Wexford, as it has been rightfully bestowed upon me by the powers that be. I have no motions to be made. My observations overturn nothing."
Borren quickly joined. "I, Borren, King of the Merfolk, represent the Oceans In-between, as it has been rightfully bestowed upon me by the powers that be. I have no motions to be made. My observations overturn nothing."
And so it progressed around the table. Jareth sighed loudly after each one. He really didn't see the point in the Ten Year Council; since the last war, the Council itself had done nothing to assist the balance which had already been achieved. The very concept of the Council was enough to keep the peace. Jareth felt they didn't need to meet for such a tedious meeting that always progressed in the same manner every year they met.
Malachi's turn to speak came. "I, Malachi Krosh, represent the Ice Kingdom, as it has been rightfully bestowed upon me by the powers that be." He paused. A sixth sense caused the hair on the back of Jareth's neck to stand on end. "I have a motion to be made. My observations overturn that every other land but ours has adequate access to magic."
He made his statement with an icy edge to his words. The tension in the room was palpable. Malachi continued before anyone could break the stunned silence. "I make a motion to create a training program for my people. A motion to create a research department. A motion to develop a method so we can share in your consummate powers."
"Malachi..." started Borren.
"I'm not finished," the giant said, his words cutting sharply. "You all can lift a piece of wood and suddenly plants grow, water flows, objects are summoned, charms are cast. What do we have?" Silence again. He slammed his fist on the table, and Pickering instinctively took flight, hovering inches above her chair. She did not descend, and Chikrish's knuckles were white as he gripped his staff. "What do we have?! ...Ice. Frozen water. A barren land where hardly anything grows." His tone changed to pleading. The edges softened. He spoke with sadness. "Why can you not share in your variety of magic? Ours is so limited. We cannot continue living like this." The tension dissipated some as his demeanor changed from a man angered against what he thought an unfair system to a pleading ruler concerned with the welfare of his people.
"Malachi," Borren began again, delicately, "you know the natural order of things. Your people could not live in a world of warmth any more than Lealilyn and I could live out of water. Magic cannot be altered. Your people are not lacking due to faulty education or opportunity. I was born with a tail. Pick was born with wings. We cannot train each other to acquire a new biology. Magic is biological."
"He's right," added Hubert, "and we've been over this before with your predecessors. There's no way. I cannot use a sorcerer's staff. Jareth cannot use my wand. And, none of us can access the mighty power of the ice giants. One hundred percent of your people possess powers. No other race in all the lands can say that! Magic is not selective in your world. Your people thrive, your people are strong."
"And our strength is limited. We must work as humans."
"Don't say such a thing," said Amalia. "You don't even compare. A people of ice are suited for a world of ice, for powers of ice. Do not compare yourself to beings so mundane. No new departments of research, practice, teaching or training can bring about powers which a people simply do not possess."
"The attempts of the past—"began Malachi, cut off by Hubert
"Have been in vain! Only frustration and restlessness and eventually resentment and hate will blossom from such folly. This matter will spread false hope to your people. We must not repeat the past."
A solemn silence filled the room. Hubert and Jareth made eye contact and shared a look of remembrance. They were the only two of the council who had been alive before the war and had lived through it.
Malachi spoke in a hushed voice.
"I would never. I will never. I am not my predecessors. I only wish to give my people the same opportunity as the other lands."
"We know you want what's best," Amalia set her hand on the Ice King's arm," If there were a way, we would oblige. If we find a way, we will oblige. The sharing of magic is impossible. Many dangerous experiments have been carried out in vain. Attempts at trading magical powers have claimed lives. If ever your land is in crisis, the council will assist you. Your concern is well meant, yet the contentment of your people speaks for itself. Peace, my fellow councilman, be at peace in your rule."
Malachi gently sat back from the edge of his seat. His head tilted down and his brow furrowed.
"I understand. I simply want what's best. The unanimous opinion of the council outside my own does not mean I will leave this matter alone forever. Thank you for your patience." Malachi had finished with a calm finality. A small ease set over the room. Hubert and Jareth trusted Malachi. He was a benevolent ruler. However, memories and experience would render them wary of the Ice Giants for the remainder of their lives.
The last council members to present themselves were the Fae of the Crystal City. Amalia spoke.
"I, Amalia Fairskies, represent the Crystal City, as it has been rightfully bestowed upon me by the powers that be. I have no motions to be made. My observations, however, overturn an unhealthy leadership...of the Labyrinth. It seems Jareth would rather chase a human girl than lead his people."
All eyes around the table widened and turned to Jareth, awaiting his response.
Jareth remained cool. He did no see this coming, yet he was never one to care about the opinions of others.
"I believe I am leading my people. My actions have not been lacking and should not lead you to think otherwise. Whom I pursue is no concern of yours."
"But, it is concerning," she said, drawing out her words as a taunt masked in innocent politics. "A simple conquest would hardly be a bother, but it seems this child has caught your eye and you would have her sit upon a throne."
A small gasp was heard from Lealilyn. Hubert shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
"Jareth," said Chikrish, "is it true you would have a human share your rule?"
Jareth thought before he spoke.
"Humans have made their way into our worlds before. Why should this be an issue? I would think my love-life not a topic needing the attention of the council."
"A weakened monarchy in one land, by default, weakens the realms," said Grenneth.
"And who is to say she would weaken my kingdom?!" challenged Jareth, raising his voice. "She is Champion of the Labyrinth."
Silence once again filled the room. Amalia smiled slyly; Jareth could tell this would still not silence her.
"That...does set her apart," observed Hubert. Pickering was still fluttering above her chair.
"She's the first and only," added Jareth.
"When has a human ever ruled? She does not know the ways and customs of the Fae or the Underground," said Amalia.
"She's different," Jareth said quietly.
"Well, Jareth, be that as it may, the amount of time and effort you spend chasing this girl is not befitting of a king. You would do well to remember your place. Your duties. It seems you've grown distracted..." Amalia was now patronizing.
Jareth lowered his voice to a decibel reserved only for warnings.
"I have never ruled with anything but focus and more than adequate ability. I will not stand to be challenged."
"I do not challenge you, Goblin King, I only present my observations. I think the council should be made aware of any actions that seem inappropriate to the well-being of the balance. And besides, it seems she is not so fond of you as you are of her." Amalia smiled in triumph; she had struck a nerve.
Jareth sprung up from his chair. His voice echoed telepathically through the minds of his fellow council members.
"You will all do well to mind your own business. The balance is in order. The moment my own games render me unable to rule, I will step down."
Jareth quickly composed himself, angry he had played into his fellow Fae's hand. She had wanted him to lose control. He spoke.
"I am fully capable of ruling. I never have and never will grow so distracted my royal duties fall unattended. It should be of no concern to you all who I choose to wed and bed."
This seemed to appease the council for the most part. Amalia still pressed further.
"Have your fun, Jareth, but a non-magical being upon a magical throne will be a subject for discussion within the council. Your love-life, your sex-life, your kidnapping-an-unconsenting-human-life could not be more boring to me. But, I will not weaken the magic of the realms and our alliance with an outsider. Tread lightly, Jareth."
Malachi and Pickering both nodded in agreement. The merking and queen shared a nervous look while the sorcerer and wizard were thoughtful.
Jareth forgot he had been standing and sat as nonchalantly as he could.
"Well, that was certainly a waste of time. I am aware of my duties and any issues that might arise from my actions. I believe we are done here, are we not? He looked around at the council. Pickering finally calmed and lowered herself into her chair. The council looked around at each other, waiting to see if anyone else had more to say.
Pickering began the adjournment process.
"I, Pickering Junip of the Great Forest find this meeting to be adjourned until the next Ten Year Council. Peace be with us all."
The council agreed with a "hear! hear!" and the adjournment agreement was repeated by each monarch and ruler. Jareth was the first to rise and make his egress, but he did not miss the challenging glint glimmering from the narrowed eyes of Amalia Fairskies.
