That's What Friends Are For Chapter 7, a labyrinth fanfic

Title:That's What Friends Are For

Author: Yodeladyhoo

Beta: Anij

Summary: Revelations

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 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: Sorry for the delay, folks. Real life and now my beta has gone either M.I.A. or A.W.O.L. ( 1/15/2008 update: Murphy's Law: Post an un-beta-ed chapter and that's when your beta gets back to you ) As I see it, there are two more chapters after this one. It isn't plagiarism if I give credit. Areas in bold are either insinuated from or directly lifted 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.

Why!?!

That irritating, infuriating, invigorating...

Gi-i-ir-r-r-r-r-rl-l-l!!!

Jareth fumed internally as he strode down the garden paths. The high hedges formed walls and corridors through the bower that shielded him from prying eyes. Not that the goblins particularly cared for the intricacies of political or romantic intrigues; whoever designed the castle and the surrounding landscapes had their reasons for laying them out as such. All Jareth knew is that he needed to vent some frustration and he would be loathed to let anyone see him in such a state. Not his subjects, not his companion, and least of all, not her.

So, here he paced out the measure of his anger, exuding the negative energy from his body using the forceful stride and his boots as they struck the ground. The grass was beaten down in a perfect pattern of his sole as the soil absorbed the energy, creating lighter footprints in the lush, emerald green lawn. It did not care how the energy was created; energy was energy. Inanimate objects were immune to the emotional charge that went along with it. Unfortunately for him, as quickly as he walked to rid himself of the anger was just as quickly as he was able to recall the reason for it. He seemed to be an unending font of seething.

A piece of cake? Cake!?! How trite did she take this all to be? This was Tobias she was being flippant about! How dare she belittle his heir so!

His teeth clenched, grinding out the rhythm of his fury. The leather of his riding gloves creaking imperceptibly over his knuckles as he formed and reformed his hands into fists. Worst of all, there was little he could do to in retaliation for her insolence. She was too old to turn, too young to keep--damn her innocent eyes! If it were not for the innocence there, it would have played very differently in the catacombs beside the oubliette. He knew how to play the game, he had done so many times before with other mothers who were willing to fall for the ruse, but he could not with this one. No, he could not take what was not freely offered. Oh, he could suggest, could swindle and cajole, but he could not lay one finger on her unless she allowed him to.

"Ah, there you are."

Jareth looked up to see Maurasoon, wearing a warm smile that only felt patronizing to him at the moment. Now that his gaze was not turned inward, he was able to see that they were standing within a resting station secluded inside the hedge. Flanking the couple were a pair of marble benches; a trellis covered with ivy and Snow Fairy bluebeards arched overhead, forming a shaded retreat from the job of walking this maze. A scowl crossed his face, deepening the timbre of his voice. "How did you manage to find me?"

Looking at him and then looking at the ground meaningfully, "I just followed the feet." Maurasoon replied.

Directing his glance downward, he noticed the trail of tell-tale footprints. He also noticed that there were two other sets of footprints following the same path. In his blind fury, he had retraced his steps twice over. His complete disregard of his surroundings only served to further infuriate him. Jareth, in a pique, threw himself onto one of the benches and glared at his paramour. "So, now that you have found me, what, of such great importance, do you require me for?"

Maurasoon's expression remained the same, "Perhaps not require, but rather, a query. I noticed that Cook had placed a lovely meat pie in the basket and I was looking for you in the hopes that you would join me for the repast." At this, she moved to the other bench and sat down. "Now, I find you in a state. What vexes you so, my Lord?"

Early training in emotional etiquette gives one the ability to school one's expression without thought; it took an experienced eye to see the acrimony that lay hidden under the surface. Jareth's features, although naturally pale, were almost white with fury while his lips and eyes maintained an almost neutral expression. It took great control not to scowl or frown during such emotions, something that Maurasoon despised. She did not have to wait long before he nearly exploded with his response. Every drop of venom that coursed through his veins found its way to his vocal chords where they tainted his tone and inflection with pure frustration and irritation. The resulting answer was cataclysmic.

"I sent the dwarf to take her back to the beginning of the Labyrinth and she bribed him! I confronted him and just the mere idea of insubordination infuriated me! I can't even trust my own subjects to follow orders!"

Maurasoon admired the embroidery that was embellished throughout the creamy yellow material of her gown as she smoothed out the creases in the full skirt. It was a lovely dress for a warm day, the color of the fabric barely perceptible from the sunlight of the day. Only in the shade of the bower could one see the pale buff spotted with rosebuds. "What would you expect of a dwarf? Their eyes stray so easily by anything that glitters and gleams."

Launching himself off of the bench, Jareth punctuated his tirade with his riding crop, "I was counting on his cowardice to overcome his greed." He slashed at a passing garden faery, swatting it soundly. The pixie let out a yelp of pain as it lost altitude and barely made it into the shelter of the shrubbery before crash landing into the grass.

"I believe that is called 'underestimating your opponent', Sire"

Ignoring her comment, Jareth continued. "Then, that girl called my Labyrinth a piece of cake."

"Oh, dear."

"'Oh, dear' is right!" Jareth stalked the space as if the alcove caged his restless spirit.

Starting to show some interest, Maurasoon leaned forward, "Then what?"

He stopped his pacing. Gazing down the corridor, Jareth refused to look at Maurasoon. Looking anywhere other than at her, where she could read his expression, and not giving her the opportunity to become aware of something he was not. "I removed some time from her quest."

"You didn't!"

"I did and I was well within my rights!" He spun on his heels to face her, anger and frustration the prevalent emotions in control now. "I am restricted from assisting her. No where is it stated that I can not hinder her progress."

Maurasoon pursed her lips in disapproval. "I thought you were supposed to be an impartial observer." Tilting her head, she continued with her thought, "You seem to be having difficulties maintaining your impartiality."

He looked at her through narrowed eyes. "Perhaps that is so."

"Then what happened, Jay?"

Again Jareth turned away, unable to face his friend and advisor. "I noticed that the catacombs were in a state of disrepair and mismanagement. I 'arranged' for the Cleaners to go through."

"With the catacombs occupied?" Maurasoon's face and voice expressed her shocked disbelief. Jareth did not move, nor was there a breeze to offer comfort; he was motionless and emotionless. "You didn't! Jareth, you could have killed them! I'm sure that is a condition of the game--to ensure the health and wellbeing of the challenger?"

"I'm sure the dwarf led her to safety;" he answered in a disinterested tone. Moving to sit next to her, Jareth conjured a crystal to his hand. "Let us take a look, shall we?"

As before in the Throne Room, Maurasoon found herself gazing into an orb focusing on a teen-aged human female, this time she had a companion as she maneuvered through hedges that were very similar to the one she and Jareth were in at the moment. In fact, it could have very well been the very same hedge labyrinth that they were in. Although, some things about the two were different...ah, there it was! The bower they were in was in a garden while the travelers traversed over stone pathways.

"See? Safe and sound." He folded the fingers into its palm, dispersing the bauble into so much faery dust. The feigned disinterest did not last for very long. He was up again, pacing, unable to contain his energy.

"So, all is as it should be." Maurasoon watched Jareth pace back and forth underneath the green canopy. "The challenger is within the Labyrinth, and you are here, awaiting either her victory or defeat. Why are you in such a state?"

"Why? You ask me why am I in such a state?" Using her as an escape valve, Jareth focused all of his emotional energies on her. He did not raise his voice; his very posture was the mechanism of his paroxysm. He closed in on her, bringing himself to her level, placing a hand on either side of her hips on the cool marble bench. He was within inches of her face and she would not blink. He knew she could take his wrath and be able to walk away unscathed. She knew him well enough to diffuse the time bomb that he was right now--at the moment of detonation. Jareth was confident that Maurasoon would get to the bottom of this, even if he could not. After all, what were friends for?

"Perhaps you are right, my Lord." Maurasoon said smoothly, looking straight into his eyes, unflinching. "I already know why you are in such a state."

"Kindly enlighten us."

Leaning back on her own hands to gain some distance between them, she merely smiled enigmatically. "Alright, let's try it this way. Allow me to ask a few questions of you. In return, you must answer them honestly if you really want me to help you. Otherwise, I'll just go into the gardens and wait until your official business here is done."

Jareth pushed himself away from the bench to glower down at her. Losing patience for standing still for too long, he spun on his heel towards the facing stone settee and huffed as he threw himself at the seat, straddling it. Finding no comfort that way, he threw himself back in exasperation, lying down so that he might look up at the green roof, then raised his foot to rest on the flat surface as well. He spoke after a deep sigh, "Proceed."

"What is this girl to you?"

With a moment's thought, he answered firmly, "She is the keeper of great dreams; of a powerful imagination."

"Interesting;" was the reply that greeted his ears. He lifted his head to look at his companion. She was busy making a study of the flowers interspersed between the jade and variegated colored leaves. The square cut of her dress only accentuating the arch of her neck.

"How so?"

Maurasoon looked directly at Jareth now. "She isn't a challenger to you."

Jareth looked at Maurasoon as if for the first time. Contemplating her words, he sat up and swung his leg around to face her. Resting his elbows on his thighs, he clasped his hands together between his knees as he leaned forward to ask; "And what does that represent to you?"

"To me, it represents nothing;" she responded nonchalantly as her gaze followed something over her shoulder, "But to you, Sire, it is the reason why you are having difficulties maintaining your impartiality."

"Elaborate."

Looking back at him as a mother would look to her child when she has to explain something with patience, she continued. "You stated that she is the keeper of great dreams and of a powerful imagination. As a monarch who wields such similar power, you would naturally be drawn to someone of comparable standing."

Jareth bore his gaze into her silently, waiting for her to finish her assessment. Realizing that he was not going to put it together himself, Maurasoon put it as bluntly as she could.

"I believe you have met your match."

It was now Jareth's turn to lean back on his hands, dumbstruck with realization. Could it be? Mulling over his most recent actions, it could stand to reason that the only reason why this chit of a girl was getting under his skin was because she could get under his skin. They were evenly matched, each knowing just how to elicit the exact response they wanted. Conversely, as they could irritate each other, they would also know each other's emotional sensitivities and needs. They would be empathetic to each other, sharing a silent language of the soul.

Yet, what was it that he said to her at their first meeting? Ah, yes, "You are no match for me." Well, who could have known? After all, she is just a child making big wishes with powerful words. Words she should have known would have consequences. She underestimated herself and her abilities in summoning his goblins and now she was further along than he expected. Well, I shan't underestimate this opponent. But, if she was his match, and he was not sure that Maurasoon was correct about this, then he was in a quandary. He sat back upright. "If this were the situation, there is nothing I could do now. I am obligated to have her complete the Labyrinth without any assistance guided by me."

Maurasoon quirked an eyebrow almost imperceptibly as a small smile danced across her lips. "Perhaps she doesn't require your assistance. She seems to be doing fine enough without it."

"Who are you supporting in this little contest, Lady Maura?"

"Why you, of course, my Liege. I'm just saying that she doesn't need your assistance. She doesn't need someone to save her; she's on her own mission. What she needs is to become acquainted with you. She needs to see you as caring and desirable. Right now, you are her adversary; she needs to see you as a suitor. She is very young, she can be persuaded."

"And how do you propose I do that?" Jareth enjoined. "I am bound by the Labyrinth to observe her progress or failure. To go against that bond would destroy the Labyrinth and possibly the Kingdom."

Maurasoon pondered on the predicament. "How about a gala? What girl can resist a chance to dress up?"

"A gala? That is a thought. Yes, a gala..." he considered as he stood up and extended a hand to his companion. "Come, milady, there is a luncheon to consume"

She accepted his invitation while extending her own, "You will be joining me?"

"I must decline with my deepest apologies, milady. I have a babe to attend to." He said as she curtsied. He then turned to stride purposely down the corridor in the opposite direction that the footprints in the grass were pointing towards. Maurasoon watched him as his transported himself to wherever he was going.

Jareth would have liked to spend more of the afternoon with his intended heir, such a pleasant child and one who enjoyed the company and the antics of the goblins. But, there was a soiree to plan and a challenger to sabotage and seduce. The guests were easily enough to gather, life being what it was in the Underground. The Gentry would grasp at any chance for a diversion.

The days, although pass quickly to one who is accustomed to a twenty-four hour day, for those who are familiar with the normal thirteen hour day, pass in tedium. There is little in the way of mechanical invention needed when one has magick at their disposal and land to work. For the Gentry, who sit in the lap of luxury, managing the rotation of crops and farmers on their feudal parcels of land, living one day after the other with an extraordinarily long lifespan, pass their time either with wars, parties, or politics--or some combination thereof. Their days are spent in an attempt to fill the time to the next affair, be it of a personal nature or political. So, to receive an impromptu invitation to the seat of the Goblin Kingdom for a masque and to await an escort to said fete did not require much planning for a costume for the invitee; they were merely waiting for an excuse.

But, how to get the guest of honor to the masque? Jareth pondered his dilemma while lounging against the wall of the high arched opening that served as an observation window for the tower room. It was a secluded spot in the castle, one that was reserved for his infrequent stays here in the center of his Kingdom. From this vantage point, he could observe a large portion of the city that sprawled out from the castle's walls. To say that the castle was at the center of the Goblin City would be incorrect; it truly was beyond the Goblin City, rising up above the asymmetrical skyline of the dormitories belonging to the inhabitants of the city. The early afternoon sun baked the walls of the clay homes to a bright white.

She obviously would not accept an invitation outright; she would need to be persuaded. Absently, he tapped his chin with steepled fingers. His gaze wandered out over the red clay roofs as the sun bleached them from their original dark umber to the rosy pallor of a ripened fruit. A twisting sensation within his abdomen reminded him that perhaps he should have accepted Maurasoon's invitation to lunch. No matter, there was work to be done. Ah, but he is not alone in not having eaten. A wicked grin overcame his face as a plan formulated.

Now, in what sort of package should he proffer his 'present'? Apples have been overused in the mythologies of her world, to offer her one might alert her to his stratagem. Pomegranates and oranges required too much work before offering up their sweetness. No, he thought, something simple, something easy, something that would not arouse her suspicion. How is it that Maura says…just 'peachy'? Hmm, there is an idea there...

After noting their location, Jareth transported to the visualization point closest to that site. The image of his countenance in stone blended into the surrounding clearing, making it difficult for the unwary to realize that they were being observed by the Lord of the Labyrinth. He merely needed patience before he would have the opportunity to offer his proposition to the girl. The Labyrinth would direct her to him. Unfortunately, with a day's limit for her to complete the challenge more than halfway past and his lack of sleep, patience was not something that Jareth was in possession at that moment.

Jareth heard a woman's scream not too far off, then another. Any minute now, he thought to himself. His patience was tested when it was the dwarf alone that entered the clearing, running pell-mell, and not watching where he was going. Jareth smiled fiendishly as Hoggle crashed into his knees. "Well," he said pleasantly, "If it isn't you."

Author's Note: I've done it for you. Now, please return the favor. Review. Thank you.