Chapter 1: Words are the weapons that ensnare our enemies.
~*o0o*~
"I believe I will choose the game this time, my own dear one."
~*o0o*~
The resplendent Fae's golden scales were tarnished with grime. The scent rising off of her was absolutely abominable; it was worse than week-old road kill that had been soaked in sewage water and left in the sun to bake. Despite being metres away it caused Sarah to retch loudly.
I've won, she reminded herself. She can't touch me.
Part of her couldn't help but pity the reptile-like-woman. No one deserved to fall into the Bog of Eternal Stench. As a teenager it seemed an almost whimsical punishment, but the ensuing isolation from everyone desiring to be as far away from you as possible was in actuality quite a horrific reality.
Graciously, as graciously as she could, Sarah allowed the Fae to approach her, her torn, bloodied lip curled into a snarl as she looked past Sarah's shoulder at the Goblin King.
A brief glance behind her confirmed that the King was utterly unrepentant at this state of affairs. He looked up lazily from his throne, limbs sleep soft and vulnerable. His eyes were not; they contained the mirth of a crazed soul that had laughed in the face of certain destruction.
"Lovely Sarah," she beseeched, "How I admire you." Sunset eyes were overcast with heavy alabaster storm clouds, "If I cannot take you with me, allow me to at least, bestow a degree of protection upon you."
Oh yeah, you were real keen on protecting me a few hours ago, when you came at me with a bow and arrow. Sarah shook her head derisively.
The Fae untied the leather cord from her neck, offering her an innocuous-looking glass bottle.
Several goblin guards, leapt forth to the prisoner's legs and impede her movement.
Sarah hesitated to accept it, "What is the price?" Isn't there always.
"No price," her smile was bitter, "This water is of my homeland. We have an abundance."
She screeched as the goblin wearing the baked bean can earmuffs, sunk its twisted yellow teeth into her arm. She refused to falter in proffering the gift.
"Champion," the Goblin King warned, his voice deadly calm, "I do not think it wise-"
"Please," she begged Sarah, "One day, it may be your last line of defence."
Defence against what?
The Champions fingers curled around the tiny bottle and she watched the defeated competitor being dragged away. Something heavy settled in her heart as she considered the unusually cloudy liquid, with flickers of light interwoven, like an aurora borealis shrouded in sheets of spun sugar.
What am I supposed to do with a bottle of water? Tip it over the next person that annoys me?
Jareth approached from behind, wrapping an arm around her waist and tucking her head under his chin. Her stomach erupted into butterflies, butterflies that had been feeding off of psychotropic nectar.
These casual touches had become frequent as of late and she wasn't sure what to make of them.
Sarah spun around in his loose grasp and narrowed her eyes playfully at the Goblin King, "The Bog. Isn't that a bit much?"
He's certainly a candidate.
His Highness's wicked grin widened, "Nothing is too much for my Champion."
~*o0o*~
Sarah frowned down at the cheap plastic frame; she rolled a garish pink coin between a finger and thumb as she studied the configuration in front of her. Upon the marble tabletop, gilded in golden spirals, the Labyrinthine challenge seemed wholly unimpressive. The fact that the table was far too wide for two people to sit opposite one another comfortably while engaging in said gruelling task, added ridicule to the matter at hand.
Bracing one hand on the tabletop, she reached over, practically lying across the table surface in order to deposit her coin. It landed with a soft chink.
"That's four in a row," Sarah announced, somewhat breathless from the strain of reaching so far across. She fell back into her seat and smirked at the woman opposite her.
Marietta stared at the game board incredulously. True enough, Sarah's fluorescent pink coins made a line of four, whilst her opponent's acid green ones were scattered around with little precision. The smooth silver scales on the surface of her skin rippled before her eyes and shifted, jutting out violently in a manner befitting a scalded cat. One clawed hand swiped the game off of the table, leaving deep gouges in the impractically beautiful furniture.
The coins rained down to the floor in a messy heap, rolling to the far corners of the conservatory.
A stray goblin that had been observing the proceedings began to collect the coins in what was a decidedly helpful gesture. Before, it stuffed them in its wide, gaping mouth and scurried underneath an armchair. The armchair predictably toppled over.
This would be the last time she broke out 'Connect Four' it seemed.
"This is nothing short of insulting." Marietta snarled, "I am to be a Queen. The Goblin Queen" She rose to her feet gracefully; her iridescent gown billowed with every step as she started to stalk closer to Sarah, who immediately skittered to the other end of the table with significantly less elegance and ferocity.
"Hey, I don't make the rules." Sarah insisted, raising a hand placatingly. Unfortunately, she was still a little gleeful from her victory so the action probably came across as a bit condescending.
"Yes, you do." She hissed, "You chose this game." Sarah feared for her opponents poor teeth, as she seemed determined to grind them to dust and spew the decidedly un-snow-like substance in her face.
"Well, it is my prerogative. About the only thing, I do have any control over."
And wasn't that the crux of the matter. No matter how poorly she did her job or how insulting she was towards the competitors, she was trapped, upholding a duty she'd never asked for.
Marietta's hand brushed her thigh, long fingers running over jagged scales that gave away to a glint of bronze metal. With one forceful tug, she pulled a 5 ft spear from her flesh and the wound winked shut.
How did that even fit..?
"We could have a rematch? Best of three?" Sarah offered, eying the spear warily as her opponent advanced. "You could be pink this time if it means that much to you." Levity was a paltry defence in the face of certain death.
"You demeaning, irreverent little-"
"Precious." Cajoled an amused voice, belonging to a rather dangerous smile. "Are you terrorising my lovely guest?" His voice was all honey and viciousness. The Goblin King's keen avian eyes watched the frenzied arc of Marietta's weapon as it left another gouge in the marble.
He placed a gloved hand upon her shoulder with a grip too tight to be considered friendly. The Princess of the River of the Forgotten startled badly. "I will not accept defeat at the hands of this girl." She spat, "Being terrorised is the least of her worries."
The King's expression didn't change, but his grip must have given the way Marietta winced. "I wasn't talking to you, my dear." The coldness of his tone was like something glacial being injected straight into Sarah's veins, her neurons were encased with ice and for a moment she was rendered incapable of moving.
"She's just a sore loser. Like someone else, I could mention." Sarah snarked as she attempted to regain use of her limbs to edge further away from Marietta. She caught a flash of something heated in his pitiless mismatched gaze before he smiled once more at her.
"Ah, such a pity," he crooned sweetly, his voice forlorn. "It would appear that I am not so fortunate to have you as my bride, Marisa."
"It's Marietta, not M-"
"Unless my Champion has devised a hybrid sport, where one jousts and squints at this...mortal contraption." His eyes traced the deep grooves in his table before landing on the crumpled game and what coins remained uneaten by Zilch. "I do believe you've been disqualified." With a dismissive wave of his hand, the spear Marietta had been wielding fell apart and fluttered to the ground as a pile of purple asters.
"Won't you dine with me, Champion?" He brushed past Marietta as though she were another one of his sizeable False-Alarm statues with a penchant for cruder language.
It was always Champion, not champion.
Not Sarah.
Champion, my Champion, won't you dine with me? Won't you eat from my table? Consume the fruits of this land once more?
He took unholy satisfaction from singing her title, a predatory glint in his eyes as he reminded her of her ties to his land, his Labyrinth.
"Not today, Your Highness." Never before had a title of respect carried so much...well...disrespect.
"I'm afraid your love life has infringed upon my studies. I have a paper due tomorrow." With a surge of vindication, she watched the Goblin King's mouth twist with irritation as she vanished before his eyes. Her obligation fulfilled. For now.
~*o0o*~
Games are an integral part of Sarah's life. She recalls lazy afternoons of lining up row after row of dominos with her father in increasingly complicated spirals. Her mother never had the patience for games, disliking playing the detective, the murderer, the banker. Too much time pretending to be things that she wasn't on stage, Sarah suspected. There had to be part of her left that wasn't an act, a falsity, a competition. Her father may be inclined to disagree.
She was rather pleased that the family tradition of game night had been revived; after she moved past her animosity towards Karen, they could commiserate over how appalling her father was at Pictionary. Sarah rather hoped there was no realm in which a horse had six legs, a plunger for a tail and eyes that dangled from their sockets. She'd have to ask Jareth.
And wasn't that a novelty?
Stepping in and out of the mighty Goblin King's Kingdom to interfere with his nuptials of all things.
He could at least make the effort to look upset when I inform him I've thwarted his most recent chance of matrimony, she thought bitterly.
Sarah glanced up from her book after hearing Toby's disgruntled whine. Karen held a Gameboy aloft between two fingers like a dirty item of clothing, holding it out of reach as her much shorter brother attempted to snatch it back, to no avail.
"You've had your face glued to that thing for hours."
"It hasn't been hours!" Toby retorted, "It's not even lunchtime yet."
"Young boys like you should be playing out there." She gestured to the window with a harried flap of an arm, "Not stuck inside all day, it's unhealthy. Tell him, Robert."
Her father, in turn, looked up from his newspaper and cast her a helpless look of bewilderment across the table. Sarah made a concerted effort to return her attention back to her book.
A low rumble outside preceded the sudden downpour of rain. If she didn't know any better, Sarah would suspect her brother of being in cahoots with a certain Monarch with a flair for dramatics. As it stood, the only evidence she had as of yet was Toby's recent dedication to the art of juggling. Which given the lack of eggs in the fridge and the sticky residue on that one corner of the carpet, was not going especially well.
"Ha. I can't go outside now." He crowed joyfully.
"Robert-"
"Sarah, go play with your brother." Her father cut Karen off.
Sarah shot her father a dirty look as he very deliberately picked up his newspaper once more and returned to reading it in earnest. She set down her own book with a sigh.
Listening to Stacy sing 'Starman' repeatedly through the paper-thin walls of our shared accommodations while I try to study would be better than this.
And that was saying a lot. Her other roommate was convinced that Sardines the cat's disappearance couldn't be unrelated to the new karaoke machine in the living room.
"I'm not playing Monopoly with him again," she complained. "He always steals from the bank."
"Do not." Toby stuck his tongue out at her.
Karen shook her head sadly. "My son, the master criminal. One of these days we'll be defending him in court against charges of fraud and money laundering."
Toby screwed up his face in confusion. "Why would I clean money? It would get all soggy."
"Perhaps, you should clean your room instead." Karen offered, drily.
Toby turned wide, pleading eyes to their father, who tried to remain engrossed in his paper. It was difficult to do so with a small child clinging to his legs like a baby orang-utan. He made a cursory attempt to dislodge him, giving up with a groan.
"Why not teach Toby the Game with One Rule?" He spoke at last.
"Ha, ha. Very funny." Sarah rolled her eyes. "Do you realise how quickly he'll get bored with it?"
Toby released their father at last and wandered over to her. He shot one last baleful look at the gaming device that Karen was attempting to turn off. The jaunty tune of Mario blasted out louder than before. "Fine, we'll play a new game. What are the rules?"
"Well...there's only one rule...and I'm not telling you what it is."
"What?"
~*o0o*~
The throne room was silent as the Wiseman lead the challenger forwards. The numerous fae and beings of the Underground that made up the Court of the Goblin Kingdom were stricken mute in horror, as the enormous doors fell shut with a clamorous thud, interrupting their King's speech.
The interior was bountiful with lush flowers, twined elaborately around pillars and braided in the hair of many an aristocrat. The King was the most beautiful figure of all, dressing in quartz armour that shimmered like moonlight and a flowing cape of downy snow feathers.
He watched passively as the hooded challenger marched forwards determinedly, clutching on to the withered hand of the Wiseman as he shambled to the centre of the room. He stumbled over his lengthy moustache, inciting a round of snickering from the goblins, lurking beneath their Lord's throne.
"Your Majesty." The Wiseman croaked, bending so low that his knees gave out and had to be helped back to his feet by the challenger. "This young woman has a complaint."
"Oh?" The Goblin King's voice was soft as he stared down at her; a hint of mirth entered his eyes. "If you've come for a lost sibling, you're welcome to look." He waved his jewel topped cane in a brisk swish as he gestured to the burbling mob below. "I'm sure they're around here somewhere."
"An announcement," corrected the Wiseman's Hat. "The Senorita wishes to make an announcement."
"Yes, yes-an announcement. " The Wiseman repeated, raising an ineffectual hand to swipe at his hat in disapproval. "She wishes to announce her desire for a murder." His Hat started to squawk again in protest, so the owner took the executively wise decision of stuffing a pair of old woollen socks into its mouth.
The Goblin King raised a perfectly arched eyebrow as he descended the stairs to the central podium. Hushed whispers spread like wildfire as his guests shuffled backwards, to the very walls of the room as though expecting an eruption of vastly catastrophic proportions.
"How refreshing," the Goblin King remarked, coming to a stop in front of the challenger. "Most do not grant me the courtesy of forewarning."
The challenger threw her hood down, briefly meeting the eyes of the intrigued Monarch. "That isn't why I've come. I am here to announce my desire for a marriage."
If the possible declaration of assassination had triggered a wildfire, then her announcement of marriage had unleashed an inferno of hellish proportions.
The Wiseman's Hat managed to expectorate the balled-up socks, they slapped wetly against the Goblin King's armour. "They are the same thing, no?" It burst into abrasive sounding snickers.
"Quite." The King's smile was sharp, holding no trace of warmth in it. "If you are certain. You know what must be done." Even still, she could tell that she had surprised him. It wasn't every day that the twelfth daughter of a lowborn hunter sought a King's hand in marriage, let alone this King, after everything that had happened to the Goblin Kingdom.
He was barely even looking at her, frosty eyes passing over her as though she were a fleeting curiosity. The Goblin King rapped his cane against the beak of the Wiseman's Hat. "Another century or two as headwear for you Quentin, my fine fellow."
The challenger swallowed loudly and ignored the Hat's dismayed screech. She refused to back down. This was the only chance she had. The heavy crimson velvet of her robe no longer felt comforting, she felt like she could suffocate and all of the painfully exquisite faces leering at her from the shadows would do nothing but chortle over her misfortune.
"Hara, no!" Shouted a young boy with grass-green hair and pointed ears. "It isn't worth it." The crowd parted in astonishment as they watched the grubby child shove his way forward to stand by the challenger.
"This is what I must do." She tried to correct him firmly, doubts gnawing away at her insides.
"You could die!" He insisted, "They all die in the Labyrinth." His eyes glistened wetly as he glared up at the Goblin King. "It won't bring Amity back."
The King seemed rather charmed by the child's defiance. "Now now, my dear lad. I have faith in my bride-to-be." The child's frown deepened as he saw the Monarch's lip curl at the word 'bride.'
The boy grasped hold of the challenger's hand, gripping it tightly. She nodded to him silently, accepting his unwavering offer of aid. He didn't have to like her choices; he just had to help her live with them.
The challenger inhaled deeply, closing her eyes for a moment to centre herself. With as much will as she could muster she met the Goblin King's eyes again.
It was awful.
She felt like he was peeling back her flesh inch by inch and delving into the darkest recesses of her mind; examining her every hope, her every failure.
She shut her eyes again. Anything was better than watching herself drown in his gaze.
"I, Aislhara of the Lockerbie Oak, do announce my intent, my desire and deepest wi-ish." Her voice broke slightly, the hair on the back of her arms prickling at speaking such a word, here of all places. "To become the Goblin Queen. I am willing to demonstrate my dedication by fulfilling a worthy challenge set forth by the Labyrinth, Guardian of this blessed land, to earn the hand in marriage of King Ja-reth." Her voice died away on the last syllable.
A wave of heat swept throughout the throne room and an excruciatingly grating static sound built up in the ears of every inhabitant.
The King circled the podium with a thoughtful expression, as faded etchings upon the walls lit up in a brilliant aura of gold. It flooded from the spiralling sigils in the arches above into solid lines like veins. They coalesced into a singular spot in the centre of the podium, slightly to the left of Aislhara herself.
The challenger edged backwards slowly, unsure what to make of the Labyrinth's response. All of the attendants of the Court watched with bated breath as the Labyrinth's chosen challenge started to emerge from the searing heat and blinding light.
The light was forcefully expelled, sending rings of golden smoke, drifting and twirling in the air.
When the smoke cleared, a figure became visible.
A young mortal woman, clad in flannel pyjamas with long dripping wet hair stared past the challenger to the enraptured King. Never before had such a lack of composure been witnessed upon his Highness' face as he gazed at the woman with quiet wonder and a tenderness that surely had to be an illusion.
The woman stared back at him in horror, vibrant green eyes burning with hatred. "What have you done?"
The Goblin King threw back his head and laughed an unrestrained and terrible laugh. Tears streamed down the sharp planes of his angular face as ice melted away into something else entirely. The woman cast nervous glances around at the audience as they all hesitantly picked up on his cue and laughed in a far more stilted manner.
"Oh, Aislhara." The King sang, he stepped forwards swiftly, his hungry gaze continued to drink in the mortal as though she would vanish at any moment. "May I introduce the Labyrinth's Challenge; the most challenging little thing to set foot in this Labyrinth." His voice was beatifically joyous, "It is no other than my own precious Champion." His words were drawn into a hiss as he declared her title to his Court, daring her to refute it.
Sarah blinked as her surroundings warped in and out of focus around, she felt too hot, weighed down by an invisible chain, cords that ran the length of her body as though anchoring her here.
Toby!
It was the first desperate thought that sprung to mind...after the shellshock and dawning fear engulfing her.
"You can't have my brother." Sarah declared quickly.
"You have no power over me." She added for good measure. It was with some satisfaction that she saw the Goblin King flinch.
She was apprehensive of the fire simmering in his eyes, even more so of the sardonic grin stretched across his face. "Ah Champion, fear not. Your brother doesn't concern us, unless he intends to try for my hand in marriage as well." He quirked an eyebrow at her mockingly.
Marriage?
He had clearly lost it. Probably snorted too much glitter and given himself brain damage.
"Who would want to marry you?" She snorted derisively.
His grin only widened as he inclined his head to the side of her. It was for the first time that she noticed the woman in the red cloak with a death grip on the child by her side.
"That would be me," Aislhara confirmed, somewhat wrong-footed. She'd expected flaming anvils, spike pits of death and grotesque minotaurs, not...this. "If you are the challenge set forth by the Labyrinth, I am prepared to best you at any task you see fit to devise."
Sarah stared at her helplessly, taken aback by the vehement glare the young boy shot at her past his friend.
"No, no way." She held a hand up in front of her as though she could push all of this away from her sight and her mind. Not five minutes ago had she left her shower and had been considering whether or not she wanted to order Chinese takeout.
Sarah glared at Jareth resolutely. She didn't know how such frigid eyes could give an impression of smouldering heat. "I'm not getting involved in all of this." She spread her arm out to gesture to the murmuring crowds and flickering traces of golden light at her feet.
She didn't even have the capacity to feel humiliated, so potent was her anger as she stood before the pompous sneers of ethereal figures she could only half remember from that dream. Sarah furiously swiped her wet hair out of her eyes and glowered at the cloaked woman.
"Alright then, you have my consent or blessing. Whatever." She announced, "Go marry him if that's what you want." Her day couldn't possibly get any worse.
"I'm afraid that's not how it works." The Goblin King chided, having the audacity to chuckle at her bedraggled state and ignorance. "My Kingdom has a little...ditty, you might call it. Perhaps it will provide some clarification."
Sarah could only watch open-mouthed as he gestured for his hordes of goblins to be unleashed from the dark recesses of the room. Some of the guests squealed with fright as they lurched out of their destructive path, swiping bonnets and cravats as they left a trail of chicken feathers in their wake.
"One by one they run to me, their heads are filled with fantasies." Jareth drew his cane upwards; as he sang into the crystal, his voice magically amplified. All the while he watched her, hooded eyes devouring her reactions, searching for any weakness he could strike out against.
"Queens and Kings, their desires true." A large burly goblin belched the line.
"Of hopes and dreams they wish to rule." Squawked the Wiseman's Hat.
"One by one, my suitors fall," the Goblin King shook his head in dismay, "Death within these Labyrinth walls."
How they shone. Embedded between each brick, each step and aged archway there were tiny glittering fragments. They burned her eyes as she stared at them.
"Friends and family sob and wail, as in the end, none prevail." The next line was chanted by a pair of dazzling female Fae; they fluttered their eyelashes at the King and swooned in a sickeningly dramatic way when he winked at them.
"Left alone my heart is stone," His voice became mellow, the words burying into her head inexorably. Even if she covered her ears she knew somehow she would still hear them. Jareth stepped towards her, carelessly discarding his cane with a loud clink as crystal smacked against the flagstones. "As I wait for one to call my own." Sarah didn't understand the emotion lurking behind his eyes, she didn't think she wanted to. The chill working its way down her spine wasn't just from her dripping wet hair. "One by one they run from me." He repeated the refrain, sadly. "For none shall share my throne, you see."
His voice was haunting.
She'd never forgotten how he had called to her from the Escher Room, a twisting geometric nightmare and a desperate pursuit to find her brother. It had been difficult to ignore his pleas, his demands...his lies.
If she had been unsure before, she now knew with little doubt that many had ventured into the Labyrinth before her, and many others had died for the King, cavorting and crooning to his half afraid, half adoring audience.
"Yeah, that was about as clear as the Bog is fragrant." Sarah rebuffed him bluntly.
The Goblin King pouted at her, honest to goodness, pouted. As though he were a small child she had reprimanded. He looked more put out that she'd disregarded his song than he had been upset by her ridicule over his nuptials.
Aislhara drew a sword from beneath her cloak. "I have come this day, to marry the Goblin King. I shall fight you to the death if I must, Champion."
To the death. Her day could get worse.
She needed a moment to think. Time to plan. Jareth's entertained expression and the frenzied chants of the crowd for her blood clued her into the fact she wouldn't be receiving help any time soon.
"I am the Champion," Sarah spoke carefully. She tried to ignore the strange ring to her words, as they amplified and carried across the room, holding a low thrum of power.
"That you are." The Goblin King agreed; his eyes were bright with avarice as he noted her shift in demeanour.
"And, as such, I may choose the challenge?"
"That is your right," confirmed, Aislhara. "Never before has the challenge taken the form of another person, and a human at that." Her voice was coloured with distaste. "Nonetheless, my blade shall be ready."
"Well then, have you ever heard of scrabble?" Sarah offered, hesitantly.
Aislhara's enraged expression promised a painfully drawn-out death.
~*o0o*~