Lalalaaa! We have Chapter II folkses!
Disclaimer: I don't own Labyrinth... or David Bowie (damn, damn, double damn) or even a pair of leggings ;) I do own Cynthia and the gorgeous and suave evil brother of Jareth.
On with the show!
/o/o/o/o/o/
Cynthia returned to her empty house feeling a twinge of envy for her parents, who were now surely lounging on some sunny tropical beach, and flew down the stairs to her bedroom to make an entry into her journal:
Dear Jourrrrrrrnal!!
Last night was a blast!
She scrawled happily away sitting on her bed, recounting what she could remember and inventing what she could not. Finally satisfied with the result, she closed the flowery little book and replaced it on her shelf. As she did so, something unusual caught her eye.
'The Labyrinth? Where did this come from?'.
The eye-catching little red tome had been placed between her copies of 'Dracula' and 'Wuthering Heights'. She plucked it from the shelf and gave it the once-over. No, she had definitely never seen this book before. She opened it.
At that moment a strong wind battered the window behind her, startling her.
"Jeez..." she muttered, standing up on the bed to lower her blinds. She turned back to face the room and froze.
There, standing in the centre of her bedroom, was a man. He smiled carefully, the very corners of his lips slowly curling to express his pleasure at her reaction. He had long straight hair, black as jet, and pale blue, slanted eyes whose gaze were locked intently upon her. A warm voice rolled from his lips to caress her;
"Well hello there."
She knew no more.
/o/o/o/o/o/
With his legs crossed in a completely haphazard but still masculine way, Jareth drummed his fingers on the arm of his throne. He was frustrated, he was curious, he was bored.
'What the devil is that bastard up to?'
He sighed, his thoughts wandering to Cynthia. Her hair was shorter than he usually found attractive in a woman, just reaching her chin. It was longer in the front, shorter in the back and madly curly all over. The rich brown shade of her hair put him in mind of other human confections, such as dark chocolate and unsweetened coffee and blessed sin. He kept thinking of sending her the book... planting within her the compulsion to make a wish... whisking her away to his kingdom... showing her true magic... kissing her full lips... caressing the curve of her pale neck...
It was enough to drive a man insane. Especially since she had taken to spending more time with human boys. Jareth snarled at the thought. Pathetic, snivelling, cowardly, disgusting human boys. They were a dime a dozen; drink-buying, rump-pinching, self-important nitwits.
And last night... she had gone to the home of that barkeep... Jareth twitched.
But all that was not important now. It was possible she was in danger. It was possible- he hated to think it- but it was possible that his dear brother had his hands on her.
He looked down at his own hands and realized they had curled themselves into fists. He relaxed them with a soft creak of black leather gloves.
'How did that bastard manage all of this?'
Jareth sighed for what must have been the thousandth time, and shifted on his throne, now crossing his left leg over his right and leaning his head on a gloved hand.
'God damn you, Jachai...'
Jachai; the first son, the true son, forced to live in the shadow of his elder brother, a strange fair-haired bastard with discordantly coloured eyes. The signs and portents had all pointed to Jareth as the best choice for a future ruler and so heir to the throne he had become. The falling out between brothers had begun at an early age. Their parents had preferred Jareth, and had made no attempt to hide the fact. As soon as it was considered suitable, the dark-haired Jachai had been married off to the dull, frail, doll-like princess of a far-away ally kingdom. Jareth had not really heard from him since. Had he been plotting to regain power in the Goblin Kingdom all this time?
No. It could not be. The letter had stated a need to borrow power there, nothing more. Each time Jareth tried to puzzle through the issue he was left with more questions than he had when he'd begun. He would have to wait for his brother to reveal to him purpose... or not...
/o/o/o/o/o/
She awoke in an unknown place, feeling unusual. She hurt everywhere. He eyes fluttered open, the stereotypical awakening princess. An exquisite male face hovered above her own. The face was long and thin, and would have been almost feminine if not for the strong, straight aquiline nose centred upon it. The slanted, pale blue eyes bore an expression of concern.
"Elethayne, are you awake darling?" The words slipped from between soft lips borne on a round, seductive tenor voice.
She opened her mouth to respond, and was surprised by the smallness of her own voice.
"Where I am?" She sat up, slowly, helped by the handsome man at her side. "Who are you?"
The man groaned and looked away, sweeping his long, dark hair over one shoulder.
"Not again..."
"What is it Sir? Have I upset you?"
He looked upon her tenderly.
"My name is Jachai, and I... am your husband." He rose from the bed and paced a while, looking preoccupied and concerned. He sat down beside her once more. "We have business here in my brother's kingdom, and because we live so far away I transported us magically. Unfortunately, due to your frail constitution, you have lost your memory."
She gasped. Her memory, gone? But it must be true, for she knew nothing but what he had told her. Her name was Elethayne, his was Jachai and he was her husband. They were in the kingdom of his brother on business. She looked around the room. Luxury met her every glance.
"Is your brother the king?"
"Yes, his name is Jareth," Had she heard the barest shred of contempt in the pronunciation of his brother's name? "and once you are dressed, I shall take you to meet him."
"Meet him again you mean?" she laughed.
"Yes, of course." There was a strained quality to Jachai's voice as he turned away. "Again."
/o/o/o/o/o/
The silence of Jareth's throne room was broken suddenly by a knock on the great doors at the other end of the long marble hall. Who could it possibly be? All occupants of the palace save him had been expelled, and the new occupant, his brother, had no reason to knock.
'Cheeky bastard...'
"Enter." called Jareth ironically.
The doors opened. Sure enough, it was his brother. He was clothed in a pure white linen that stood in stark contrast to both his own dark hair and Jareth's black leather garb. The Goblin King was preparing a scathing comment when a second smaller figure entered the room.
Jareth couldn't bring himself to tear his eyes away. The woman wore a dress of the same material of Jachai's robes. Unlike the dark-haired man's shapeless and flowing garb, her gown was cut to accent the curviness of her body and draw attention to her- dare he think in such clichés- ample bosom. For ample it was, but not overmuch. As she swayed closer, following a step behind Jachai, the sashaying hips of the perfect hourglass figure mesmerized him. Her short curly hair had been crowned with piece of delicate silver artistry. Some milky, gleaming gem (an opal perhaps?) dangled from it to rest near the centre of her forehead. They were mere feet from the throne now. Her eyes met Jareth's for a moment, and she smiled shyly. It was enough to send a current of need from the soles of his fit to the tips of his flyaway hair.
He was smitten.
Again, that is, for the woman standing before him at his brother's side was none other than the mortal for whom he had fallen.
He opened his mouth to speak but, for once, words failed the usually silver-tongued king.
She was here, before him. A living, breathing goddess. He put all the questions about his brother aside. Finally, he spoke:
"Cynthia-"
He was quickly interrupted by the smooth laugh of his brother.
"Elethayne, you mean, don't you dearest brother?" Jachai shook his head with furrowed eyebrows, feigning disappointment, but Jareth could see the spark of challenge deep within his eyes. "I know you haven't seen my dear wife in quite a while, but it's another thing completely to call her by another name!" The dark-haired brother laughed, placing a long-fingered, pale hand upon his wife's shoulder. Jareth fought to keep his lip from curling in contempt.
'You were never much for acting brother... and what have you done to Cynthia?'
Jachai went on: "Well, no matter. It seems Jareth, that my dearest Elethayne has gone and lost her memory again, so it's all introductions from here in any case." He smiled sweetly at his 'wife'. "Go on darling, introduce yourself."
Cynthia approached the throne and curtsied deeply. She remained motionless for what seemed an unnaturally long period. Jareth broke the strange silence.
"You've made an excellent show of your balance, dear, but why don't you stand now?"
There was no reply.
Jachai burst into raucous laughter. Jareth realized his brother had momentarily frozen time. All his pent-up anger, sealed momentarily away by the stunning effect of Cynthia's beauty, bubbled back to the surface. The Goblin King swept from his throne past Cynthia and down the stairs to where his brother stood. He gripped his immaculate linen robes by the collar and glared into his brother's pale eyes. His breathing was agitated. He could barely speak coherently through his fury; his speach clipped and tense.
"What do you intend?"
Jachai looked calmly back into his brother's ire-filled eyes, and greeted his enraged speech with a pretentious chuckle.
"Intend, brother? Intend in regards to what?"
Jareth twitched. He hated the way his brother emphasized the 'wh' sound at the beginning of the word 'what', drawing it out unnecessarily. It irked him more so now.
"In regards to the girl, in regards to my palace!"
The dark-haired brother's lips curled slowly into a cat-like smile.
"That would be none of your business Jareth."
The Goblin King's grip tightened on his brother's collar.
"I have just decided to make it my business."
The faintest bit of irritation entered Jachai's slanted eyes.
"Do you know how many charms, bewitchments and enchantments bind that girl at this moment? I could end her life with less than a thought." he contemplated in exaggerated fashion, "Why, I could even do it by accident should I become too vexed..."
Jareth loathly release his brother, and none to gently. Jachai grinned broadly. The grin withered and died, leaving nothing in its place but impatience and scorn upon his chiselled features.
"Good. Now sit back down in your fancy little chair, and we shall proceed normally." he paused, walking over to Cynthia to caress her curls. "Anything out of the ordinary," he snarled, "and I shall snuff her like an old candle." His caress travelled down to her pale neck, tightening as illustration of his threat.
The Goblin King did as he was told. Jachai's cheerful expression returned to his face.
"And, on with the show." Cynthia rose from her bow.
"I'm pleased to meet you, King Jareth."
Jareth seethed internally.
'Damnit all. I need to play well and wait for my chance.'
A charming grin unfolded upon his face.
"Ah, dearest sister Elethayne. It has been so long since I have seen you I had taken you for a cousin of mine." he took her hand and kissed it tenderly, lingering long enough to irritate his brother. "You must come visit me, and we'll speak of old times."
Cynthia reddened a little. It was possible this man was even more gorgeous than her husband. There was something sensuous and animal about him; the wild hair, the unmatched eyes, the brazen grin. Jachai spoke suddenly:
"Elethayne is not at her best. The loss of memory has possibly affected her health, I would rather she see a physic before wandering about the palace-"
"Oh, nonsense!" interrupted Jareth, "I shall examine her myself." His eyebrows had lifted slightly at the word 'examine', causing a wave of excitement to run the course of Cynthia's body.
"I should love to remember my past." she commented breathlessly.
"I am sure you would," muttered Jachai sullenly, "but for now we must return to our chambers. You may not know it, but you need your rest. Jareth would never want anything that would run counter to your health, now would he?"
The message was clear. Let it go, or else.
"Of course brother."
A victorious smile from the younger brother.
"Excellent." Jachai gave a curt nod.
Jareth made a point of meet Cynthia's gaze.
"We shall meet again soon, Elethayne."
Her lips parted as her expression shifted to one of intense desire.
"Yes, soon..." she replied, nearly voiceless.
"But not too soon." finished Jachai.
The couple turned and walked from the room, the dark brother's mind full of ire and plotting, Cynthia's clouded with a powerful want.
The Goblin King simply smiled to himself as they walked away.
'Much sooner than you know Cynthia...' Jareth allowed himself a private chuckle.
'When the moon rises tonight, I shall make you mine.'
/o/o/o/o/o/
dramatic music Oh ho!
Is Jareth going to get his leather-clad paws on our forgetful 'princess'? Will Jachai interfere?
Will Jareth discover his brother's true purpose?!
... Tune in next time to find out:)
Please be so good as to review.
All comments and constructive criticism appreciated.
Until next time!
Planeswalker