Disclaimer: I don't own Labyrinth.

The Land That Is Not

Chapter Four

" --Leisure, Catullus, is your downfall
in leisure you exalt and become over-excited:
leisure before now has destroyed both kings
and prosperous cities."

-- Catullus, 51

"Why are you resisting, my pet?" he purred softly, voice humming in the dusk of her hallway. "I read from your eyes you find me, dare I say," he chuckled, his bright eyes flickering self-assuredly, "attractive." And before Sarah had time to reply, he continued, "There's no shame in lusting after me. I am, after all, a god."

"Yes," Sarah gasped, her gaze darting from his smooth face to his muscular arms and chest, and back to his face. She felt uncomfortable at the excessive sight of the skin gleaming in the soft candlelight, "A great," she gulped, "god, I can see." Face burning, she forced her gaze to fix on a spot over his shoulder, "Yet, I asked you here for a different reason than mating."

"A boring reason, I assume," he flashed his teeth. "Do not say you have no desire to share the pleasures of the flesh with me. I am a famous lover throughout all time. No woman ever has complained of my touch. In old times, they composed songs to honor me, and young virgins challenged the wills of their fathers, calling me to share their beds, blushing and bleeding their first blood for my sake."

Sarah met his stare and willed her voice to remain flat. "Yet, I'm unmoved. I bid you to listen to my request."

"Yes. The message was hard not to acknowledge." the man locked his teeth together, hissing with contempt. "You ask me to take you to Underground, the Goblin King's domain."

"Yes," Sarah sighed.

"Having second thoughts a your impulsive wish?" The man all but smirked, "Do you seriously think meeting the Goblin King will soften his heart to revert the act you have committed to?"

"That," Sarah raised her chin, "shouldn't concern you!" The light in his eyes blinded her sight, but she forced herself to hold his stare. "But, as you so kindly asked: the answer's no. I have more wit than to wish anyone away!"

His expression turned rigid, and he sneered. "Do not lie to me, mortal! I smell it clearly on you -- the foul stench of Underground and an erroneous wish done out of hate!"

Bewildered, Sarah fell in silence. "I did ask goblins to take someone from me but that happened more than ten years ago. And I gained back what I thought I would lose," she confessed slowly. Her heart pounded against her chest, and she swallowed.

Only a slight widening of his eyes revealed his surprise. He inspected Sarah keenly, as if trying to see through her before turning his attention to the shiny staff he held in his hands. "If this is the case, what urges you to request me taking you back?" he asked thoughtfully, the shadow of his nose cutting his profile.

Sarah wavered, casting her eyes at her feet. "My brother...was stolen from me," she confessed.

"And?" he inquired unimpressed.

"And I know it's him -- the Goblin King!" Sarah snapped, pulling her shoulders back. "I'll be damned to wish myself to him! I need to be the sly one this time, if I'm to rescue my brother."

The frown ceased, and he smiled as he looked at Sarah. "Well, why didn't you say so immediately?"

"You'll help me?" Sarah almost staggered from relief.

"Tsk, tsk. Not so fast, young mortal. We need to discuss your payment first." He leered at her, his gaze taking a leisure stroll of her body, and Sarah shivered at the hungry gleam in his eyes.

She dampened her lip and asked, cringing at her broken tone, "Y-you have something in mind?"

Still smiling he stamped the golden rod against the floor and pulled himself to his full height, voice full of hardly concealed connotations. "Indulge me, mortal. Guess."

"Err," Sarah gulped down the lump in her throat, her skull resonating from the gonging of her empty mind as she, with burning cheeks, looked down. "I can't but wonder what a simple woman can possibly offer to an immortal god…?"

His smile widened at her strained tone. "Do not think so little of yourself. A god's life can be very boring, and we are not strangers to small generosities and amusements of life…such as sex."

Sarah shivered, her knees wobbled and the blood rushed through her veins. The embarrassment churned her cheeks. "As divine a lover you might be," she muttered reluctantly, "I still have to decline the proposal."

He shrugged, answering, "You lack the idol." As he stepped forward, Sarah's eyes watered at the scent accompanying him, a fragrance of burnt leaves, and spices, and musk -- like a world a long time gone. "An idol has to be sacrificed, or I will dictate the payment."

"Idol?" She gave him a sharp glance, thoughts galloping franticly through her mind, and spoke aloud slowly. "Would one of those be a tortoise, a ram or a hawk by any chance?"

A brief fracturing of his expression revealed him, and, nearly triumphant, Sarah kneeled down quickly, grasping for the cloth at her feet. Before he could reply, Sarah triumphed, "I have an idol!" Standing up, she let the textile roll open and revealed the image to the god. "I'm not lacking my ticket!"

Motionless, he stared at the figure. The sweat trickled down her spine at the prolonged silence as the minutes ticked away. Finally, he brought up his gaze. "Not so heathen after all," muttered the god, hiding his mouth, but Sarah discerned an amused sparkling in his eyes. "My congratulations."

"Umm…you'll accept it?" she asked, the fear still strangling her.

He tilted his head while puckering his flush lips. "It's not a conventional idol, I admit. Yet, I recognize its true value. Alas," he looked at Sarah, "I have no need for such a protection. It would serve you a lot better, but if that be your forfeit, I will accept it."

"Protection?" Sarah repeated hoarsely, remembering Hoggle saying the same. Had she misjudged Mister Hoopoe after all?

His brows arched up with a surprise. "But of course!" the man exclaimed. "How could you, a feeble mortal, perceive the depth of its charm? It's a true masterpiece, I tell you that. And by its closed eyes, I see it has already chased off some ill meant for you." He smacked his mouth thoughtfully. "Someone appears to wish you a great harm, my juvenile mortal."

She shivered at the words. "I knew it!" Sarah muttered darkly. "It's just his style…the bastard! I'm going to make him sorry!"

"Are you certain you wish to travel to Underground?" the god confirmed, giving her a doubtful look.

She straightened her shoulders. "I am! I have to save Toby!"

He tapped his mouth, glancing away, and asked, "Do you know what will be the price of traveling there?"

"There's another price?"

He sighed, "Somehow I find this deal harder and harder to make…" His eyes flashed at the sight of Sarah clutching the green textile tightly in her arms, and he leaned backwards holding on the staff more tightly. "I assume you know the story of Persephone and Hades?"

She nodded warily, muttering. "Sure…why do you ask?"

He bit his lip. "Before becoming Persephone, she used to be Kore, a maiden of such an innocence and purity, none had seen ever since," the god finally told with a bitter tone. "As like many others, the god Hades fell in love with her as she meandered on the meadows of her mother and abducted Kore to Tartaros." He looked through Sarah as if seeing it in front of his eyes. "If you know her tale, you also know that after Hades' act was revealed to other gods, the mighty far-seeing Zeus demanded him to return the maiden goddess back to her grieving mother. But unbeknown to Zeus, Kore had secretly consumed six peas while in Tartaros. When she ate the food of the Other World, all her ties to the Ordinary World were severed. She transformed from Kore to Persephone, and even the great god Zeus was helpless. He could not revert her act but only lessen its effects. And so it happened that goddess Persephone became a wife to Hades. Half a year she would sit by Hades' side in Tartaros, and other half she would spend with her mother."

"Yes?" Sarah asked.

"Understand this," he eyed her sharply. "If you eat anything from Underground, even for the slightest taste, you cannot ever return back to your own world. You will be doomed to live in Underground until the end of your remaining days. You shall share Persephone's fate with the difference that you cannot ever leave. "

She narrowed her eyes. "I ate a peach when I was there the last time. Why didn't I have to stay then?"

"You said you had wished someone away and completed the Labyrinth to gain him back," replied the god.

"Yes."

"You challenged the Goblin King. By his law, he had to accept the challenge and bring you to Underground. It was his magic that tied you to his country, and when you triumphed over him you also triumphed over his might. All ties he might have spelled on you were then reverted."

"But not this time?" Sarah muttered, glancing at her feet.

"No. Nothing will help you if you are to accept anything that's offered to you there," confirmed he.

Even shivering, she raised her chin. "My friend warned me, and I'm aware of the risks. Thanks for the advice, but I have to go back! He's my brother!"

He shook his head and grumbled. "Headstrong mortal. Why does it seems I am always aligned with them?" he puffed a breath of air. "Very well. The summoning of your spell has nearly drawn to its end. Step out of the circle. I will accept your sacrifice and do your bidding. I will take you to the Goblin King's land."

She blinked, tensing. "But…" she gasped.

"What?" the god retorted arrogantly. "I do not have all day. Step up or stay behind. That is my requirement."

She wavered, remembering Hoggle's instruction. The god had tried approaching her. He had threatened and wooed her, but dared never to cross the boundaries of her circle. If she stepped out now, she would be exposed to him and his will. Nothing would shield her were he to take advantage of her. Biting her lip, Sarah looked at the god, trying to read his mind, but his face remained blank.

Braising herself, she inhaled deeply and pulled back her shoulders. She took a hesitant step forward, clutching the green cloth in her trembling hands. Her head felt woozy. Stepping through the circle, she nearly tripped over by the sheer strength of tingling power that swarmed in her hallway, itching on her skin and sizzling in her ears.

He stood impassive, watching her approach with glittering eyes, fingers locked around his golden staff. Sarah stopped in front of him, licked her lip, and met his gaze.

"Come closer," the man said softly, eyes flashing barely noticeably.

Sarah swallowed, and her heart hammered against her chest like crazy. Shivering, she took another step. His warm breath caressed her face, the heat emitted from his body. Sarah flinched as his hand rose to her cheek, his fingers hardly touching her, sliding downwards to her chin.

"What are you doing?" She stared into his bright eyes, noticing odd golden sparks amidst his dark pupils that were almost the size of his irises.

"Shh. Be at ease," he murmured, leaning downwards, his hand gently cupping her cheek, and, so slowly it felt painful, fastened his mouth onto hers.

His kiss was like a breath of wind -- free, playful and gentle. A wondrous sense of warmth spilled in her, poured down her spine all the way into her toes. She shut her eyes, and a breath of a sigh escaped her lips. Relaxed, she nestled closer to him with a vague impression of his strong arms enfolding around her. A momentary feeling of disorientation stole her breath. She leaned onto him more heavily, feeling the wind arising around them, making her shiver. Her body tingled; blood burned her veins; the air stung in her lungs. Her body itched and scorched. She was on fire! Sarah jerked backwards, pulling her head back and opened her mouth to shout.

A treble screech pierced her ears. Scared, she opened her eyes, realizing she had just heard her own voice. She screeched again, half-panicked, as she realized the floor had vanished beneath her. She hovered above the ground, hitting the air madly with her wings! The fluttering of the air currents caressed on her feathers and her talons; she heard the sounds of her neighbors like never before: clanking of their chores, noise of their talks, the shouting of television. In front of her she saw another hawk with a dark beak and bright gleaming eyes -- the image of her coverlet came alive.

Follow me… the god's words echoed in her mind. Fly with me, and I'll show you the way to Underground.

He screeched while turning and flew through the corridor, towards her living room. Amazed, Sarah took off after him, the wonderful feeling of flying making her giddy and carefree. It felt as if she had always possessed wings, known the strength of them, her abilities to soar faster than others. The world appeared so much clearer, sharper -- even the tiniest details and smallest marring in the furniture seemed obvious to her sight. She nearly laughed as she took off after the huge-winged hawk, following him through the open windows – a voice in the back of her mind reminding her that human-Sarah had shut them, but the bird-Sarah couldn't care less, feeling the suffocating walls falling over her, eager to flee the cramped apartment – into the night.

They flew higher, escaping the noise and ruckus of the city, the cars, the pollutions, and the smog. The hawks ascended higher from the white gauze of clouds, traveling through the frost coagulating on her feathers. She felt the biting coldness as she followed him blinded through the fluffy clouds. When she finally reached the open sky, felt the fresh and pure air against, she shrieked from joy. Flapping her wings, she speeded up after him, passing thousands of bright stars scattered carelessly over the dark layer of the night.

He led her towards the moon blazing like a giant silver coin, or some sort of fantastic fruit dangling ripe from its root. The wind grew stronger, the stars stretched on their way, and skies opened like a huge gate, revealing a path that led from her world to unknown. Without a doubt or hesitation, the hawks passed the wide gate of skies, following the trail of the silvery moon and leaving after them the dreamy night.

o O o

A sense of dread penetrated his mind, stirring him from his slumber. He blinked, staring at the ceiling, sharply listening to the sounds of his surrounding: the faint twittering of birds on eaves; the silent humming of the cold stones; steady intakes of air. Narrowing his eyes, he concentrated and plunged deeper, traveling beyond the boundaries of his room, sensing the fleeting thoughts of his servants, the twisting and twirling forms of the castle corridors, rooms and hallways -- the shifting and turning miniature version of his maze outside the city walls, always on the move, searching and looking for something new; yerning for completion. The endless corridors of Labyrinth never stilled or ceased their restless voyage; never remained the same. He liked it that way; moments of transition leaving but fleeting echoes of the past. The land that never was could never die; the endless changing of Labyrinth reminded him of the fact.

Jareth marred his forehead, feeling it again. Something was off -- he threw the blankets from his way, feeling the silky texture of the sheets against his skin, and rolled out of his king-sized bed. He walked to the arched window, seeing the dark rooftops of the city houses and walls, and the faraway hills of the wasteland stretching further away. Between them lay his Labyrinth. He frowned, turning hurriedly around. Yes, something definitely didn't feel right. Barely noticing his sigil and its sharp metal eclipses pressed against his skin, he dressed and disappeared with a blast of sparkling flock.

The day dawned behind the gently sloping hills of faraway. Everything remained calm and silent as the owl glided through the sky before landing on a bough of a dark tree hunched leafless and dead next to shadows of the city. The mornings remained his favorite time. The creatures of Labyrinth, his subjects, were still asleep, curled in their beds, dead to life. Only the most punctual ones would hurry up to perform their chores, groom their land, haven and home. Mornings were his leisure, his moments of quiet meditation.

He listened to the deep breathing of his land, hushed murmurs and memories of nightmares it still breathed out. His eyes flashed angrily, and he ruffled his feathers, thinking how close he had come to losing it all. Even now, the aftermath felt like a dull ache in his bones. And then there was the boy. The owl clamped his beak tightly together. To be honest, he still hadn't a clue what to do with him. Jareth nearly sighed in defeat, feeling sorry for himself. A most unfortunate destiny indeed…

A torturous echo pierced his ears, and, shaking his head, he turned to look down. Eyes in bright yellow sickles, the owl watched as a small figure sneaked through the small crack in the city gate. The dwarf – Higgle? – what was he up to? Nothing good, Jareth decided, expecting the little man to steal an escape from the Goblin City and the city guards. His eyes followed the dwarf as he crept from the Goblin City glancing furtively at his side. Without waiting any longer, Jareth spread his wings and followed him.

After the city walls disappeared, the dwarf's shoulders aligned and his pose got stronger -- a curious change. The little idiot headed straight into Labyrinth while having continuously quick looks at the sky. Jareth kept his distance, swooshing like a soundless shadow from one tree to another, lurking atop of crumbled walls, hidden from the dwarf's eyes. But when it became evident the twerp wasn't any closer to his goal, Jareth decided he had enough. He took off and landed behind the dwarf, returning back to his true form.

"My, my... What have we here?"

The dwarf froze and slowly turned around. Jareth could see emotions flashing through his face: dread, resentment, and worry.

He cast down his eyes, sweeping the ground with his feet. "Yer Majesty."

"If it isn't Higgle himself!"

The dwarf's face darkened at Jareth's mocking tone, and he muttered quietly, "Hoggle."

Annoyed, Jareth frowned at the dwarf's defiance. "Whatever." He flung his hands behind his back, locking his fingers together, and took a step forward. He inspected the little man keenly. "You're awake early."

The dwarf remained silent, his eyes still cast down. His fingers twitched by his side. "I'm needed in Hedge Maze," he muttered at last. "I forgot to cut a passage on the outer rim. And I thought I saw some of thos' nasty fairies about. Have to keep care of my duties, as yer Majesty well knows…" He patted a spray bottle dangling on his belt next to his jewelry, lifting his face.

"Oh really?" Jareth inquired nonchalantly while tapping his chin with a finger. "How curious," he leaned closer, sensing the dwarf shivering, and suppressed an amused smile, "since it seem to me, Hoggwart…"

"--Hoggle," the little man gasped out, trying to back away.

Unperturbed, Jareth continued, snaking his arm around the little dwarf's shoulders before he could escape. The leather of his jacket creaked noisily in the silent morning. "That you're heading at the wrong direction," he hushed.

"Oh!" Hoggle wheezed, letting out a nervous laugh. "So it seems." He squirmed under Jareth's hand while glancing at his side. "Yer Majesty is right as always! Funny me, I must have taken a wrong turn, being so early and all…" He blinked, and his face bleached as he met Jareth's stare.

"Hoggle…"

"Higg---" he swallowed down the word and blushed. His Adam's apple moved as he swallowed. "Yes?"

"You wouldn't dare to cross me another time, would you now?" Jareth frowned. "That would be very unwise."

"Me?" he squeaked, shaking his head vigorously in denial. "Never! Not after yer Majesty's last warning!" He hit his chest. "I've learnt me lesson, ye can trust on me!"

"That's good!" Jareth hissed, face masked with anger, "Since you know very well what'll be the consequence of being caught up plotting against me ever again."

Noisily, Hoggle gulped down a lump in his throat. "Yes."

"You're certain I don't need to remind you?"

He shook his head with the jewels jingling on his belt.

"A bog would be too kind an act for treason. Anyone who dares to violate the King's Law will be banished," he lowered his voice, "to the desert."

"I is not doing anything like that anymore!" Hoggle squeaked off-key.

"That's good," Jareth snorted. "Now, run off." Disgusted by the dastard dwarf, he pushed the little twerp away and pulled himself upright. Jareth watched him stagger clumsily and frightened away, and added as an afterthought, "And Hoggle…"

The dwarf stopped and turned slowly to look at him, fear shining from his eyes. "Yes?"

"If you seriously think that I don't know about those little meetings of yours with that brat." He could see color fleeting from Hoggle's face and snarled, "Think again." Before Jareth transformed back to his owl shape, he said at the paralyzed dwarf. "And be very, very thankful."