Chapter Fifteen: Life in the Labyrinth

It was with an odd sort of reverence that Jareth ran his fingers down the well tended wood of the large cabinet. He had not opened this since the end of the War of the Wings. He wasn't entirely sure he wanted to reopen it. It would make things all the more real. The current Master Blacksmith was behind him, standing next to Sarah. He was big for a Goblin; reaching Jareth's waist not including its hair which was a fairly impressive luminous orange Mohican. He was bulky as well, with large arms and broad shoulders. Jareth was beginning to wish he had some sort of nervous habit.

Taking a deep breath, Jareth slowly opened the cabinet. He heard Sarah gasp behind him, but he had eyes only for the array of pristine weaponry within. While most weapons would have rusted away over the last fourteen centuries, his own had been expertly made with both metal and magic. His twin swords were hung at the back, their blades each the length and a half of his fore arm. On either side of his swords there were other blades, knives and daggers. It had always been rare that he had used those, but they had come in handy a few times. Beneath his swords were his vambrace, rather battered but well polished. Chances were they wouldn't fit any more. While he was lean now he had been near weedy then. Then on the left door was his ebony bow. He wasn't particularly good with that weapon but for some reason having one slung over his shoulder tended to command more respect than the sword at each hip. His mediocre archery didn't bother him though, Vanity's sheer expertise and Celeste's uncanny knack more than made up for it. Besides, he used a different weapon for a longer range.

His eyes turned to the right door of the cabinet. Flash blades. Five of them in various sizes. His eyes still on the perfect metal discs, Jareth removed his gloves and tossed them to the floor. The Goblin flinched, not used to him treating his clothes in such a way. He took the middle flash blade from its hook and placed it on his palm. It was about the size of a plate and had the usual hole in the middle; the metal was enchanted silver with inlaid gold. Slowly, he ran his finger around the top of the weapon, feeling just how flat it was. Then he frowned and passed it to the Goblin. "There's a slight dent and it needs sharpening. If memory serves it hit off a stone column." He followed the same ritual with the other four but found no fault with them and so returned them to their stands.

Then he removed his swords. He felt a faint quiver run up his arms as he held them. A quiver that had nothing to do with the magic they held and more to do with memories. An odd rush of joy almost. They were just as perfectly balanced as he remembered and holding them again was like greeting an old friend. These swords had saved his life and the lives of his friends on countless occasions. He swung one and then the other. Getting to know them again. Except . . .

"The blades are too short for me now. Can you lengthen them by two thirds of an inch?"

"Yesssssire," replied the Maser Blacksmith. He had forgotten how odd the Goblin's speech was. Though he recognised the ascent as being from the border of his Kingdom that faced the Serpent Kingdom, which explained the hiss. Without another word he handed the swords to the Goblin.

Next were his vambrace. He didn't even try and put those on; he just compared them to his arms and shook his head. No chance. He had put on a bit of bulk since he had last worn those things as all male Angels did after their third century. Passing them to the Goblin he said "wider by three sizes and longer by one." The next hour passed in much the same way as he went through the rest of his arsenal, passing damaged or obsolete weapons to the Blacksmith with orders for improvement, repair or replacement. Once his cabinet was half empty and the Goblin had lumbered off to begin his work, Jareth leaned with his arms braced against the open doors, forlornly scanning the contents.

He didn't turn around when he felt a hand place itself on his shoulder. He did however give a content sigh and close his eyes. "Are you alright?"

"I will be in a moment. It's just," he paused, not entirely sure why he felt as though what he had just done had been close to sacrilege. "I haven't opened this cabinet since the end of the War of the Wing and I had intended never to open it." The hand disappeared from his shoulder and arms wrapped around him from behind with Sarah pressing against his back and leaning her head against his neck. Despite what he knew was to come in the near future, he couldn't stop a smile from gracing his lips.

Celeste fidgeted as she sat on his horse shoe throne with Jareth staring at her in a combination of joy and absolute mortification. "When are you planning on telling him?" he asked. She opened her mouth to say something but ended up closing it and giving a sheepish whimper and a shrug. "Crystal Moon only knows how he's going to react."

"Oh don't remind me. I didn't mean for this to happen, at least not now with a war on the horizon." At that Jareth raised his eyebrow.

"Then you should have been more careful, or do you need a heart to heart on how to stop such things from happening."

"Very funny Jareth." Unfortunately she sounded too frazzled to be threatening.

"There's a difference between killing and murdering," said Vanity as she looked down her arrow with the bow string taught and her arm perfectly straight. Her childish voice caressing her words with a perverse sensuality. "Killing is sloppy, crude and garish. But murder.

"Oh, murder is pure art. Murder takes skill, creativity and inspiration. Murder can be just as sensual as the most tastefully done porn. Just as exquisite as the rapturous bliss of fucking someone who knows what they're doing." She took a deep shuddering breath, a blissful smile on her lips and let it out trembling. "Any idiot can kill, can take a life. But it takes someone with a real gift to create something as intensely beautiful as murder." The way she purred her last word crossed the border to obscene.

The tiny fingers that gripped the butt of her arrow sharply fell away. The string of the bow snapped back to its natural position. The arrow flew true towards the target that was a good two hundred feet away into the arrow that was already nestled at its dead centre. Splitting it down its middle. Unfortunately Sarah, Ribbon, Echo and Auranar didn't see the impressive accuracy as they were all staring at the Satyr with near identical expressions of disgust. Sarah holding a yew bow limply in her left hand.

"And," Ribbon said with familiar revulsion. "Had the target been something with a pulse, she would have had an orgasm." Sarah's disgust deepened as Vanity flashed what would have been a charming smile on anyone else.

"You're point?" she asked sweetly.

"I think I'm going to be sick." And with that Sarah ran towards the castle with her hand over her mouth.

Sarah had been in the Labyrinth for two weeks, meaning fourteen days, not the Underground equivalent which was forty two days, and she had unfortunately not been able to spend much time alone with Jareth. Mostly due to the almost ever present Auranar who seemed to delight in glaring at her boyfriend and generally behaving like an over protective older brother.

She had gotten a better hold over her magic so she no longer flashed like a neon sign from time to time; she had been learning archery and had discovered an innate gift for fighting with a pair of sickles. Ribbon, who she preferred far more than she thought she would now she had gotten to know her a little more, had been shocked to find herself getting battered by a half mortal who had no idea that she would be able to hold her own. Jareth hadn't been surprised at all. Apparently the Sylph King that she had descended from had been incredibly skilled with the weapons.

Now however Jareth had pulled her into his throne room and was currently locking the door and warding it against unwanted Elvin. She hoped fervently that it would work. With a sigh, the King turned around and leaned on the door to look over her form with slight smile. She was wearing the first clothes she had ever conjured up, though the main reason she was wearing it was that she knew Jareth liked it.

She turned away from him to hide her blush and walked over to his odd shaped throne. A frown found her brow as she looked at it properly for what was most likely the first time. Who on earth had designed the thing? It was horseshoe like in shape and sloping as well with no real defined back, simply the seat then the rim on metal rods with the whole thing draped in what could almost be described as scraps of grey, light fabric.

"Sit on it."

"What?" she asked, looking back to Jareth and feeling more than a little foolish at his suggestion.

"Sit on it," he repeated easily, still lazily looking over her form. "It's more comfortable than it looks."

A sigh escaped her and she bit her lip. Well? What could it hurt? Letting her shoulders slump in defeat, Sarah turned and gracefully placed herself upon the throne. Only to start squirming instantly.

"I thought you said this thing was comfortable." A grin spread across Jareth's face and he sauntered over to her.

"You're sitting on it wrong," he replied lightly. "It's Goblin made remember? You're not supposed to sit all prim and proper. Get up and I'll show you how to get comfortable on it." With a slightly mocking flourish, Sarah rose to her feet and gestured to the throne. Rolling his eyes, the King dropped into it gracelessly, his back against one side and his legs hanging over the other.

"Very regal," Sarah drawled sarcastically as Jareth smirked pleasantly up at her before making a move to get up. Only to be pushed back in place by the half Sylph. This time his eyebrow rose in question. "You are not going anywhere now that I've finally got you to myself." Normally it was Jareth that made the first move, today however Sarah was feeling rather bold.

So she climbed up onto the throne to straddle his waist. Needless to say his other eyebrow soon join the one that had already risen only to be rather quickly replaced by a roguish grin as she leaned forward and firmly pressed her lips to his. The kiss was deep and searching as his hands rapidly found her thighs and followed them up to her buttocks.

The door loudly swung open with the sound of Celeste saying "Jareth are you-"

"What in the name of the Sacred Forest do you think you're bloody doing?!" Slowly, the obviously entwined couple turned their heads to the door way and Jareth swore under his breath when his eyes fell on Auranar. The Elvin was trembling with rage and with a low growl he began to stalk forward. Celeste's eyes widened and darted from the couple to her husband. Her mouth trembled as Auranar reached half way between the door and the throne then finally she blurted out-

"I'm pregnant!"

"Wha-" He span round on his heal, whimpered slightly and fell back, straight as a board to land on the stone floor, unconscious.

"That went better than I thought it would," she said breathlessly, now trembling herself.

Jareth gave a slight nod of agreement then added, "So, when are you going to tell him that Angels always have twins?"

"When he asks why I'm so big for my time."

Unlike when they travelled to the Gremlin Kingdom, their landing in Avian was not a smooth one. With a yelp, Sarah tripped over Jareth's boot clad feet and fell over, her tight gip on him bringing him tumbling to the ground with her. Or rather knocking him to the ground and her landing on top of him. And what was the first thing he said?

"Sarah! If you'd wanted me on my back, all you had to do was ask."

She should have severely chastised him, for all the good it would do. He would most likely enjoy it. So she settled for laughing and playfully swatting his shoulder before climbing off him and to her feet then helping him up. Only then did she take the time to look around.

They were in the middle of a wide open grassy plain land with huge green bison like animals lazily grazing. And only about fifty yards away was a small building surrounded by a white picket fence. All in all, the scene was rather idyllic. A whistling bird song was coming from the building, getting slightly louder.

"That must be Alfred, he always whistles when he's in a good mood. He'd whistle every time he was leaving the castle when he was my teacher." Sarah rolled her eyes.

"Why am I not surprised that you were a nightmare child." She stated blandly as a very tall, very odd looking creature that she guessed must be Alfred began to back out of the small building. He was at least eight foot tall and impossibly thin. But then he was a yellow stalk like bird, with a huge plume sweeping back from his head. His wide fanning tail poking out from tan coloured shorts, leaving his long spindly orange legs on display.

He threw something Sarah couldn't quiet back out, but the tiny sound of shattering glass reached her when it hit the ground. "What is that place any way?" She asked as Alfred turned around and quickly made his way out of the buildings garden.

"It's Alfred's School. He always wanted a proper building to teach in instead of doing tuition work where ever he could."

Still whistling he reached into the breast pocket of his garish wait coat with wing feathers that behaved like fingers. She couldn't tell what it was, but he seemed like he was in a good mood. Jareth's eyes widened an he grabbed her. Dragging her to the grown as he swore harshly.

"What's wro-"

A loud explosion cut her off and she rapidly covered her head.

Slowly the couple raised their head to stare in shock at the burning school. Eyes wide as Alfred walked towards them with a bounce in his step, whistling brightly. Neither of them rose to their feet. They simply stayed on the floor, staring at the approaching Birdling. It didn't take long for him to reach them and stop, looking down to them. He rolled his shoulders, gave a high note then stopped and tilted his head.

"What? No sarcastic remark? I'm disappointed in you Jareth," was his greeting. "I take it we're all fucked again?" Sarah glanced to Jareth for his reaction. He blinked a few times then slowly climbed to his feet and helped her up.

"I do hope none of your pupils were in there." Alfred looked over his shoulder and gave an uncaring shrug.

"I don't think they were but to be perfectly honest the little sods deserved to die if they were."

"So the schooling hasn't been the dream you thought it was?" Alfred gave a harsh squawk like laugh.

"All of them! Every damn student was like you but worse! You at least flinched every time you annoyed me to bluff going to hit you! Those little shits! Nothing cowed them. Nothing! Not one of them even had the scholarly instincts of you're lovely sister. It was like teaching a school full of you, Ribbon and Vanity with the odd clinically depressed Echo here and there.

"Who the bloody hell are you any way?"

"You can tell you're in a good mood from how much you're swearing," Jareth commented dryly.

"I'm Sarah. Jareth's girlfriend and the last descendant of the Sylph King left living." The yellow bird looked to her, her eyes taking in her form.

"I give the relationship about four month and your life about three weeks, so no problems then." She looked to Jareth for a moment as he glared at Alfred.

"Is he always this pessimistic?"

"I prefer the term realistic. Anyway I'm assuming you're here about the barrier? Reforming the squadron?"

"I'm not even going to ask about how you knew that, but yes." Alfred clicked his beak in what she assumed was his version of a smile.

"Well let's see; Vanity getting broke out of prison, Ribbon and Echo abandoning the Vampire army, you're sister moving out of her little cave on your coast. It wasn't that hard to put together with my talents. Not heard about any change with Brock though and obviously Auranar is a none ent-"

"Actually he's back and with Celeste. She's pregnant now you know?"

"Really? I'm surprised that bloody daft Elvin hasn't ran a mile knowing he's got two children on the way." There was a pause during which Jareth smirked. "He doesn't know there's two does he?" Grinning, the Goblin King shook his head. Alfred gave a loud squawk. "Oh I hope I'm there when he finds out."

"I doubt you will be. From the way things are going at the moment he'll find out at the birth."

"Sounds rather typical for their relationship. So exactly how deep in the shit are we this time?"

"Probably about neck deep and sinking." The bird rolled his eyes.

"Typical," he muttered. "Well, as tactical adviser I suppose I should come with you to try and make sure you don't get everyone killed. Besides, your girl is quite attractive for someone without feathers and I'm curious about her intellect. You don't tend to go for the intelligent but this one has a look in her eye that says she know what a book is."

"That's probably because I've been trying to write one for years." Wow, he was annoying.

"A woman with creativity. Impressive, though a bit odd. Kind of like a female with bright plumage. A Peahen with blue green feathers. Your species is so backwards, but intriguing none the less."

"And this explains why you've been married nine times," Jareth said dryly, interrupting Sarah's impulse to punch the Birdling.

"Twenty seven now actually."

A/N: Sorry this took so long but I've been concentrating on my book lately (working on Chapter Nine now) and there has been a lot going on which meant I just didn't have time to work on this.

Any way, thank you to FaeriesMidwife, notwritten, sweetbabby33, cajunsprout, Nagasasu, Princess of the Fae and In this world live all words for taking the time to review. I really appriciate it and hope that others will follow their stellar example hint hint.