Chapter 4 - A New Start
The night felt endless; still consumed by memories, Jareth roused himself to reality - he was sitting on the cold stone floor, clutching the painting of the young prince, beseeching him silently for he knew not what. He studied the details, and tried to recapture the promise and possibility of his early life, long before he'd ever laid eyes on the Labyrinth.
Limbs aching from remaining in the same position for so long, he stretched out, feeling the seeping cold right to his bones. Had it all been worth it? The kingdom had been a true spectacle, feeding on the wishes and dreams of the humans who ran the endless routes of the Labyrinth. Anything and everything within the scope of human imagination had appeared within the maze, and it had been a true marvel.
But the humans had grown up, and those who followed just didn't dream in the same way - their wishes were different - and so the King was forgotten, as was his kingdom, which had fallen into an unanticipated state of disuse which he no longer questioned…
Until the dreams, and the girl with the imagination vivid enough to brighten his otherworldly reverie and wake him in the middle of the night, finally ready to face the memories of a history he had long ago suppressed.
The Girl…
He struggled to his feet in darkness - the candle had guttered down to a stump hours ago - and felt his way blindly to the far side of the chamber, where he placed the portrait delicately in its rightful position on the wall.
He closed the door, as he had countless times before, only this time was different, for he did it without anger or bitterness, and he no longer took such great pains to ensure the lock was secured and the key secreted away from prying eyes.
His mind was elsewhere…
o~o~O~o~o
He sought the sanctuary of sleep once more, hoping to dream again, and he padded quietly along the never-ending corridor.
The peaceful silence was cut short by a miniature posse of stocky goblins, screeching and howling in delight as they careered around haphazardly.
"Shut up…" one ordered.
"No, YOU shut up!" came a sharp retort.
One of them ploughed straight into the King's legs, causing a great goblin collision as the rest of the party plunged forward, unable to stop in their state of joviality.
"Why don't you ALL shut up," Jareth snarled, and silence descended quickly.
It couldn't last though, for the smallest goblin, still excited, quivered and shook, until to hold back the words any longer would pose serious risk to his very life.
"But… Your Majesty! Please! Someone is about the say THE WORDS!"
He positively bellowed those final words, then clapped a tiny hand over his mouth, looking around furtively, hardly able to believe he'd spoken aloud before the King, who had so recently demanded silence.
On any other day the poor goblin would have been right to feel afraid, but this time the Goblin King settled gleaming mismatched eyes upon him with impatient interest, which was equally terrifying for the little soul, who stood quivering alone as his fellows hastily edged away, forming a circle at a suitable distance to make it clear that they were not the troublemakers.
Little of their antics even registered with the King - he looked at them, but did not see them, for the prospect of The Words, after so long, accompanied by the recent dreams he'd experienced stirred him to curiosity.
Could it truly be? After all this time? A new runner within the Labyrinth?
He conjured a crystal from nothingness, and focussed his mind on this unknown person of whom the goblin had spoken, half afraid and half delighted at the prospect of what it may reveal.
The smooth, cool surface of the crystal shimmered, and the fathomless depths within remained cloudy and opaque; whatever presence was waiting in that other world, for the moment it eluded him.
He looked harder, and some of the waiting goblins, calmer now, transfixed by the crystal, crept closer, staring.
The mist in the glass cleared, and the Goblin King saw...
...a human girl, her face framed by thick dark hair, her eyes shining, ablaze with creativity, for she was telling a story. He knew her - she was unmistakable - but this time her story wasn't pulled from the pages of a book; she was both creator and narrator, and she wasn't alone. She had a not-so-captive audience of one - a very young boy, held safely in her arms, who couldn't possibly understand all her words. He howled in frustration and she placed him into his white wooden crib then headed towards a mirror on the dressing table, well and truly engrossed in the story-world she herself was bringing to life, her words forming rapidly...
The King watched in fascination, willing those words to carry over the paper-thin boundary between their two worlds.
…had given her certain powers, he caught, although what came before was lost in the ether.
A mischievous grin appear on the Goblin King's face.
Certain powers? Well, if my lady commands it, I can provide certain powers. All you need do is say the right words.
By this time the goblins who had remained behind with the King, wanting to witness this spectacle, were positively bouncing with anticipation, and there was an excited hum around the room. The Goblin King was distracted as he ushered them away, warning them to make ready, for the time may come soon when they were called upon to perform their usual task.
He turned his attention back to the crystal, and watched as the girl left the child and strode purposefully to the bedroom door...
...She stopped, spun on her heel and narrowed her eyes at the still screaming infant in the crib.
"I wish the goblins would come and take you away… right now!" she declared, loud and clear...
A goblin frenzy erupted as the party moved as one, grabbing and pulling each other out of the way, eager to be the one to collect the Labyrinth's new child.
"Wait!" The icy voice, calm and clear, cut through the hubbub and briefly restored some form of order. "Go, quickly; fetch the child, and bring him directly back here. On no account do you go near the full-grown human," he ordered.
This is one visit I wish to make myself, he thought.
With a wicked grin he despatched his minions, and assumed his owl form, for what more could a human daydreamer ask for than a dramatic entrance?
He wanted to impress her, to fortify her belief in his world, for he had seen her face before, although never in waking life. He had never assumed this day would arrive; whilst confronting his past, he rarely considered that a real possibility for a different future may appear.
Ultimately, the game remained the same, but this time the rules would be different, for this girl and her dreams and wishes, vivid enough to rouse a king from slumber in what felt like another life, may provide a chance for a new age in this worn out kingdom.
o~o~O~o~o
The ancient door (with the rusty key still placed in the lock) creaked back on it's hinges, blown by an almost imperceptible breeze. Within the darkened chamber, all but forgotten once more, the portrait of the Goblin Prince, forged with scraps of innocent idealism and bitter experience, and tainted by ages beyond number, seemed to take on a shimmer of its own, as though the facial features trapped within the paint were due to alter again, marking another era in the reign of the Goblin King.
If one looked closely, it became almost possible to believe that the once-troubled Prince showed the beginning hints of a smile.