Title: That's What Friends Are For
Author: Yodeladyhoo
Beta: Anij
Summary: Good Morning, Master Tobias
Genre: Fantasy
Pairings: Jareth x Maurasoon ( OC )
Rating: T
disclaimer (dĭs-klā'mər): noun
1. (law) a voluntary repudiation of a person's legal claim to something
2. denial of any connection with or knowledge of
syn: disavowal
c.1986, 2007 The Jim Henson Company.
LABYRINTH is a trademark of The Jim Henson Company.
Labyrinth characters c.1986 Labyrinth Enterprises.
All rights reserved, but not by me.
All rights are reserved, but not by me. This short story is a work of fiction. All original characters in this story are fictional. Any similarities to actual persons, either living or deceased, are purely coincidental. Permission for the use of the non-original characters has not been requested by the author or granted by the licensor. This short story was written for your perusal and pleasure. No compensation, either financial or actual, has been collected or requested.
Maurasoon is mine.
Plea for Reason: Hey, there's art with this story! Please go to my profile page to find the link. It is under the Completed Works banner, underneath the title of this story. It's not plagiarism if I give credit. Passages in bold are lifted directly from Labyrinth—a novel based on the Jim Henson film, written by A.C.H. Smith, and published by Henry Hold & Company in New York.
Maurasoon awoke that morning refreshed. Long rides in the evening made for good nights of sleeping. After making her toilette and dressing, she was surprised to find herself breaking her fast alone. She left the dining hall to wander through her old haunts in the castle.
The castle, although rarely used by either the populace or the King, was small and bright. Large windows with their metal shutters thrown open to the brilliant morning illuminated the high vaulted ceilings, reminding her of the cathedrals in France that she once visited with her family so long ago. She walked slowly through the passages, admiring the different views of the Labyrinth from her vantage point within the castle on higher ground. At times she would pause, seemingly deep in thought, as she attempted to solve the Labyrinth visually. Many times she would lose her visual thread in the myriad of turns, switchbacks and dead-ends. Maurasoon shook her head in amazement at the complexity of the structure and pitied any challenger who was so desperate to attempt to complete it.
As she progressed through the castle, she noticed that there were more goblins present than she remembered. During her last visit here so long ago, she was virtually a solitary resident, devoted to study and assimilation. There was the skeleton staff of goblins, brownies, and elves necessary for the function of the building, but there was an absence of sound and activity at that time. Now, there were quite a few goblins in armor in what seemed to be industrious activities and, to her dismay, livestock in some of the sitting and music rooms. Allowing her feet to be directed by her ears and her memory, Maurasoon found herself descending stairwells and turning corners as she followed the sounds of what seemed like a large, boisterous gathering. Presently, she found herself in the Throne Room, gaining access there by one of the servants' entrances. Upon entry, she was appalled by what was within.
In the rear of the room, on his throne, reclined Jareth. Lounging sideways in the generous seat with a leg thrown over the curving armrest that formed around to the back, his face was pinched in frustration. He was apparently trying to block out the mayhem that was surrounding him and was failing miserably. It seemed as if the whole of the Goblin Palace Guard were housed there. From the debris and filth, it would seem that the Throne Room also doubled as the barracks for the guards. No wonder Jareth met her in the courtyard yesterday!
At the center of it all stood a child, no more than 18 months old, wearing red-and-white striped coveralls, with his mouth wide open and howling. Little fists were clenched tight; eyes screwed shut, his tear-streaked face scarlet with the effort. The babe was in a depression cut in the middle of the floor filled with goblins and livestock. It had managed to pull itself up to a standing position and was now working up for a good cry.
Forgetting about his admonishment from last night, Maurasoon took a deep breath as she composed her face into a cheerful expression. She had her work cut out for her. "A pleasant morning, Sire! You seem prepared for a ride this morning." She needed to raise her voice slightly to be heard over the constant background cacophony of goblin soldiers at rest, sleeping, eating, drinking, and gambling.
Jareth looked up at her, his face weary from constant distraction. "As I hope to do once this challenger relinquishes her ordeal. She's a little less than three and a half hours into the Labyrinth."
Picking her way through the throngs of bodies to the central depression, she crouched down to gain a better vantage of the child. "And, would this be the prize?" She opened her arms in a universal sign of acceptance to the petulant tyke. The soon-to-be toddler indicated a desire to be picked up; Maurasoon obliged.
"That would be the Master Tobias," Jareth said as he descended the dais to stand next to the pair. She was in parental mode now, holding the boy up over her head by his waist, smiling at the child while modulating the pitch of her voice. Toby, unsure of this adult, stopped his keening until he could figure out who this lady was to him.
"And why is the Master Tobias crying?" Maurasoon asked, using the 'Mommy' voice.
Jareth sighed. "If I knew, Maura, I would rectify it. I've tried a human wet nurse and an udder of donkey's milk to no avail," he leaned in to tickle Toby's neck. The baby quickly turned to find the source of this new stimulus.
Instinctively feeling the child's rump, "have you had his underclothes changed?"
"Maura," he sounded rather irritated, "don't use that tone of voice with me."
Maurasoon raised Toby over her head again. "Oh hush, Jay. I've only just lightened his mood." True to the statement, Toby was starting to play with her and grabbed one of the decorative rose coloured ribbons of her bodice. "Oh, just like a man! Grabbing at a woman's bosom!" She shot Jareth a sly sideways glance. Bringing the lad down to rest on her hip, Maurasoon badgered her king further. "What part of the day was it for the boy when the summons was made?"
"The sun had already set"
"Ah!" She turned to look at the child now occupying himself by fingering the threads of the embroidered rosebuds on her gown. "So, you would not go to sleep and your dame wished you away!"
"Not his mother, his sister. Look." Making a motion with his hand, Jareth conjured a crystal to his fingers. After allowing it to rotate over his fingertips, he tipped it so it would travel over the back of his gloved hand where it was collected over the tips of the fingers of his other hand. He then flipped the elusive orb over his fingertips, allowing the transparent sphere to rest in his palm. Cupping his hand, the orb was elevated to rest upon a tripod of digits to find a stationary spot at their eye level. Maurasoon had to lean into his shoulder to see clearly while Toby gurgled and pulled at her collar. She shifted his weight onto her arm and started to bounce the boy. Imaged within the orb was a girl on the cusp of womanhood, her long brunette hair sweeping over her shoulders as she swung her head around as she navigated the open air stone passageways.
"Hmmm. Either way, the boy needs to sleep." She turned and placed the boy back into the pit.
Jareth was still entranced by the image contained within. "Such ingenuity," he muttered as he watched her mark a flagstone. A smirk rose unbidden as he watched the resident brownie curse at Sarah's receding figure and flip the stone to a clean side. He knew that residents would be busy for the next few days scrubbing and polishing and weathering the now marked surface to its original worn appearance. Surely she will become frustrated and rescind her challenge once she realized that the odds were against her, he thought to himself.
He had already lined up an adoptive family for the boy in his mind. This particular landowner had managed the land very well and the crop yields were outstanding. Since the landowner and his wife had no children, Jareth thought a strapping son would be a fine reward for such excellent stewardship of the land.
"So, I suggest that we leave the babe be to sleep." Maurasoon tilted her head once she realized that Jareth was not listening. "My Lord?"
Jareth glanced away from the orb, unaware of her statement. Toby was standing in the pit now, complaining loudly about his situation. Some of the goblins were now starting to take an interest in him by poking and prodding the boy. This only added to Toby's complaints. The monarch moved towards the pit, offering Toby the crystal from his hand.
"Don't offer him any distractions! He needs to learn how to comfort himself."
Jareth scowled at her. He did not enjoy being told what to do or not to do, especially not in his own castle and especially not in his own Throne Room, albeit he would never admit that this was his. No, this throne, this castle belonged to the Kingdom and he was the King. "I know how to handle the child. I am not a novice and I have dealt with many similar situations," he retorted peevishly.
"Granted, you've had similar situations, but each child is different." Maurasoon sniffed authoritatively as she held herself with an air of superiority. "Besides, you are doing his new family a disservice if he were to become spoilt by too much handling. Have you ever raised a spoilt child? Not a pleasant thing to do, I can tell you."
Jareth's nerves bristled while she calmly straightened her bodice. How dare she talk down to him! He was older than her; he was her king. Although he knew he did not need to prove anything to anyone, he would show her the folly of her statement. This child he would raise as his own. Gone were the thoughts of the landowner and his just rewards. This lad would be heir to the throne that was situated behind him.
Again, Maurasoon jarred him out of his thoughts, performing a curtsy and requesting permission to leave. Granting her request, he watched as she picked her way from the room, narrowly missed being trampled by a black pig in a helmet which was chased by a band of horned goblins. Her scurrying backside brought an amused smile to his lips. He needed something to keep him amused here. The goblins were, frankly, a bore. They were so stupid they couldn't find their own way through the Labyrinth. They were without wisdom or wit.
Climbing the steps to his throne, he pondered that perhaps Maurasoon was right. Perhaps this is what had been missing. Perhaps this is what he needed, someone to devote his time to; someone to mentor. It is the one thing he has never had, or had the opportunity to have, until now. Lounging in his draped throne, which was in the form of an interrupted circle, Jareth looked at the bawling figure of Toby. With any luck, he might grow up to be an intelligent youth…He might make some jokes, or anyway see the point of Jareth's…At the very least, he might have some fresh ideas about mischief. Two-headed sheep, curdled milk, banging pans, snatched nightclothes, barren fruit frees, shifted tables, moldy bread—Jareth had seen it all, much too often. But this lot, rooting and pratfalling around all day, still found such tired old clichés a perfect riot every time. Pitiful, they were.
Trying to obliterate the scene surrounding him, Jareth covered his eyes as he tapped his crystal topped riding crop against his shin. Irritated, he looked hopefully at the clock. Half past three, the sword shaped hands indicated. Another nine and half hours to wait, until the goblin striker struck the thirteen. He would have to do something to pass the time. He glanced over his shoulder as he surveyed the room. Horned or hairy or helmeted goblins racketed around the place, across the filthy floor, over the steps of the throne, up on the ledges of the room, some chasing chickens, some squabbling over a tidbit, some peering into any vessel in the hope of finding something to eat, some just sitting and gnawing on bones, one plumed tailed goblin was polishing his boot, others staring balefully at all the rest through crazed eyes. The place was littered with half-finished platefuls of food, and rotting bits of meat and vegetable matter, garbage and junk. A small pterodactyl flapped around, taking its chances. The curved crown mounted heraldically above the throne, decorated with dragon's horns, had been appropriated by a vulture for its nest…The walls had been decorated with carved stone ribbons that wrapped around the room. Goblins, perched in various poses of repose, sat on shelf outcroppings supported by goblin gargoyle faces. Light filtered in from the stone stairwells and poured in through two rose cut openings that pierced through the fortification.
The din was becoming unbearable.
He stood up from the throne and stalked over to a green skinned goblin with a very prominent hooked nose, sparse hair and a chin that receded into its neck. He grasped that odious fellow by the collar of its shirt, bringing himself face to face with it. Jareth had to steel himself from the stench of stale beer and foul foodstuff that lingered on the goblin's breath.
"You remind me of the babe."
Author's Note: I've done it for you. Now, please return the favor. Review. Thank you.
Sorry I'm late about this, but the thanks are heartfelt all the same. Sincerest thanks to FairiesMidwife and Brindlegreyhound for placing this story on their alerts. Thanks for the vote of confidence, guys!
If you have any questions concerning anything that might sideline this story (eg: timelines, magick/magic, relationships), feel free to ask. I will be happy to explain all.
There's art with this chapter, too! Please go to my profile page, scroll down to the Current Works In Progress section and find the banner for this story. But, go check it out after you leave your review. You know, that little blue, sqare button to the left that has 'Go' printed on it.