Seven

Chapter 4: The Greatest Treasure

Jareth watched the sorceress carefully the next morning as he ate his breakfast. His first victory and a decent bed had resulted in a restful sleep. He tucked into his breakfast, a soft boiled duck egg in an engraved silver cup accompanied by more of the sweet yeasty bread from the previous morning, all the while studying the sorceress as she read from an enormous black book.

"What do you read?" he asked between bites of bread.

She looked up from the dark book and her eyes held a deep sadness, an expression of regret and sorrow. "Histories," she told him quietly. With a thud that resounded across the room, she shut the book and a small smile formed across her ruby lips. "Are you ready for your next task?" she asked him.

"I am, my Lady," he answered with a little bow of his head. His own bravado surprised him. Just a day before, he'd cowered before the evil woman and now he faced her somewhat resolutely. He felt stronger, more capable, more powerful. He had completed her first task, after all. He smiled to himself.

The sorceress frowned, her eyes becoming narrow green slits, like cats' eyes. "I wouldn't be so smug, little mortal," she warned. "You've completed only one challenge. You have six more to go before you can claim any sort of victory."

Jareth lowered his eyed as she rose from her seat to tower over him, her billowing robes spilling over the floor like purple mist. She leaned over his shoulder to whisper in his ear and he caught her scent, blood and myrrh and ash. "Tonight," she spoke hotly into his ear, "you will sing me a song of the greatest treasure on earth." She pulled away from him and crossed her arms over her chest. "As before, you have until sunset. You may venture today beyond the first gate to the foot of the stone mountains, but no further. Be gone."

She waved her hand and Jareth found himself with the evil guitar strapped to his back on the muddy hillside where he had met the dwarf the day before. He looked around, but saw no sign of the tiny gardener. With a shrug, he took off down the hill toward to rocky peaks beyond the black gate in search of inspiration. He thought of the sorceress and her black book as he walked, and wondered what sorts of histories such a book could contain to make her seem so disconcerted. The book filled him with curiosity and he thought to formulate a plan to discover its secrets.

"No," Jareth told himself out loud. "I mustn't waste time on the book. I must finish this challenge!" For all he knew, the evil witch had planned the whole performance to distract him from his task. He clenched his fists in rage. Damn that wretched bitch!

His angry ruminations were interrupted by a howling cry coming from the foot of the stone mountains just ahead of him. Jareth quickened his pace as the sound grew louder. Someone or something was in terrible pain. The mournful cries made his ears ring and his heart ache as he searched for its source. He reached the foot of the mountains and looked around. Large boulders lay scattered about from what had been a rock slide.

"Is anyone here?" Jareth called out. He was answered with a pathetic whimper from a large pile of jagged rocks. Scrambling over to the stones and crouching down, Jareth could see a furry form about the size of a small dog pinned beneath the huge rocks. The creature moaned sadly as it struggled beneath the heavy stones.

"Hold still," Jareth called to the creature. "I'll get you out." He quickly laid aside the guitar and studied the rocks, trying to figure which ones he could move without causing the rest to fall and crush the creature beneath them. Finally satisfied with a plan of action, Jareth set about pushing and tugging at the large rocks, rolling them carefully off the bundle of fur and down the hill. With a final heave of a jagged boulder, the creature was freed. Jareth reached down and carefully picked the creature up, laying his head on its fuzzy chest to check for a heartbeat. He breathed a sigh of relief when he heard a weak, but steady thudding in its chest.

"I need to get you to help," Jareth told the creature. "But I don't know where to go. Where do you belong, little furry thing?"

The ball of fur opened its eyes and looked up at him. A wide smile broke over its face and Jareth couldn't help smiling back at the strange beast. It was a truly odd creature with small fanglike teeth protruding from its bottom jaw and black horns curling outward and downward from the side of its head. However, its smile was sweet and genuine and gave the hairy beast a pleasant and comforting countenance. The creature stirred slightly and cried in pain. It was injured and Jareth was at a loss as to what to do.

"Where can I take you?" he asked impatiently.

"Mam," whimpered the beast.

"Mam? You want your mother? Is she nearby?" The creature answered only with a cry of pain and Jareth looked frantically about the hillside. There was no time to be dilly-dallying with injured beasts! He had a task to complete. He considered just leaving the hairy thing to its fate and walking away, but was unable to turn away from those small pleading brown eyes. Cursing his soft heart, he tucked the creature under one arm, slung his guitar over his shoulder with the other and began following the curve of the stone mountains.

After walking for what seemed like hours, he came to a cleft in the rocks. The creature in his arms perked up and Jareth looked down at it.

"You know this place?" he asked.

The little beast nodded its head slowly and smiled. "Mam," it said weakly.

Jareth approached the entrance to the narrow cave cautiously. He knew it was likely that the beasts within would not take kindly to his meddling with one of their young. As he moved toward the opening, the creature in his arms cried out and Jareth nearly dropped it and ran, but maintained his composure long enough to see an enormous hairy beast squeeze through the slit in the rocks to stand before him. It was as tall as a tree and covered in hair, with a gaping mouth and curling horns. Jareth backed away slowly, still holding the young beast.

"Mam!" it called and held out its hairy arms to the towering creature. The large beast stepped forward and gathered up her child and held it to her chest and purred lightly. The young beast nuzzled into its mothers breast and Jareth was taken aback by the gentleness of the hulking beast. The mother turned to Jareth and he tensed, ready to run, but she only smiled at him.

"He—he was caught in a rock slide," Jareth told her nervously. "He's injured."

"Ludo hurt," the mother said, her voice a low rumble. She turned and began moving back to the cleft, but paused and turned back to Jareth. "Come," she told him.

"I—I have to go," he tried to argue, but she caught his hand in her giant paw and dragged him along after her. She pulled him though the narrow opening of the rocks and into a large cavernous room. As they entered, they were greeted with whoops and purrs of joy. There were several more of the large beasts in the room and they all gathered around the smaller one in its mother's arms, obviously overjoyed at his safe return. The mother growled something to the others and they turned to Jareth and smiled, their big furry faces lighting up with warmth.

A table was spread as the young beast's wounds were examined and dressed and the family of hairy creatures offered Jareth a seat. They set a steaming bowl of soup in front of him and offered him fresh water. He ate and watched as they celebrated the return of their young one, speaking in guttural growls and purrs and singing in long echoing hums that shook the cavern and rattled the furniture. In the midst of them, Ludo sat, allowing himself to be cuddled and hugged by his family.

Jareth watched in awe and wonder as the family of enormous beasts feted the smallest of their number. Their behavior bewildered him. They were so huge and imposing. What was it about this tiny being that caused them to make such a fuss? He watched Ludo's mother as she picked up her child and held him close, tears clinging to the edges of her dark eyes. She was moved to tears at having her child returned to her. Were children, even those of simple beasts, really of such value? Did they not give birth to more of the same every time the winter faded and the earth became green again?

Jareth remembered what the gardener had told him. This earth never became green. Nothing, to the dwarf's knowledge, had been born here in a very long time. Jareth looked at Ludo with his family. If that were true, then this child was rare and precious indeed. A treasure. Jareth reached for his guitar, fully knowing what the subject of his song for the sorceress would be.

"Sing for me, my sweet," the sorceress cooed to Jareth in the shadowy recesses of her chambers. She had whisked him away at sunset and he had been ready. She sat in her throne by the flickering fire, her eyes two icy emeralds in the snowy expanse of her face. Her full lips were curled into a menacing sneer, but Jareth noted a quiver at their edges. The bitch was uncertain, even nervous. He studied her carefully for a moment, taking in the fact that she had shed her ebony cloak and now sat before him in a jeweled gown so deep green it was almost black. The gown's bodice was cut into a low vee, putting her creamy breasts proudly on display. Jareth laughed to himself as he picked up the guitar. She was beautiful, but he was not about to let her lips or her eyes or her breasts distract him from completing his challenge. He swept his hand over the strings of the guitar, his fingers still bloodied and stinging after hours of composing his song, and began to sing.

Sarah watched him, her breath hitching in her throat as his pale, blood-stained fingers played over the guitar strings. She imagined his hands moving over her body as they moved over the instrument, gently stroking, tenderly caressing. His voice awoke her from her lustful thoughts as his rich baritone filled the room, quieting the imps and making the hairs on her arms stand on end.

What is gold to a woman's empty arms?

Can diamonds on her hands quell her aching heart?

What is silver to the man without a son?

To whom shall he his wealth, his blood impart?

What is life without rebirth of hope?

That death is not the end of each man's fame

In his child he sees immortality

The passing on of life and blood and name

The greatest treasure lies not in a gem

Nor in a pearl or shining vein of gold

It lies within the heart of every child

The echo of his youth when he is old

When his hourglass of Time runs out of sands

Children hold the future in their tiny hands

Jareth looked at the sorceress as he stopped singing. Her eyes were closed, her head flung back against her dark throne, her chestnut hair falling over her ivory shoulders like skeins of silk.

"My lady?" called Jareth.

She opened her eyes and lifted her head and gazed coldly at him. "Leave me," she whispered.

"But have I satisfied your request, my Lady?" Jareth asked insistently.

"Yes!" Sarah snarled. "Now leave me!" She motioned with her hand and the doors flew open. Jareth felt himself being dragged out by unseen hands and he scrabbled at the walls and floor, seeking purchase, but to no avail. He was yanked violently from the room and whisked down the winding stairs before being dropped unceremoniously on the floor of a small chamber. Jareth looked up at the room. It was thankfully furnished with a chair, a table with a candle on it, and a narrow bed. Jareth crawled toward the bed, letting the guitar fall to the floor and remain there. He hoisted himself onto the thin cot and lay on his back.

He wondered at the sorceress's behavior. Had his song really had such an effect on her? It was strange, but it seemed to him that as he sang he felt a crawling tingle curling up his legs and chest and into his arms and hands. His limbs felt heavier, but he attributed that to fatigue. It had been a long, exhausting day. He turned onto his side and rested his head on his outstretched arm. There was no telling what the following day would bring, but he was no longer afraid. He had beaten two of the sorceress's challenges, and he could see that she was nervous. He could defeat her if he didn't let her distract him with her smoldering eyes or her pouting lips or her pale smooth breasts. He fell asleep with a smile on his lips.

In her chamber, Sarah stretched her limbs, relishing the feeling of having her ankles and wrists unbound. The Power had not hesitated this time, but had loosened her bonds even as Jareth sang. They fell away from her like shed skin, leaving her blissfully unfettered. Afraid her captive would see her unleashing, she had sent him away. If he were to find out the truth, if he discovered her curse, all would be lost.

The sorceress slumped into her throne, exhausted from the expense of her magic. The mortal was doing well, but he was growing stronger. She could sense it. He would rise up against her if she were not careful. But Sarah had seen him watching her. She hadn't missed the way his eyes had lingered on her breasts. Perhaps it was time to put her considerable knowledge of enchantments to good use. It was crucial that the mortal helped her, but she had to keep him firmly in her control. Yes, she thought. The mortal had had but a taste of her charms. Tomorrow she would show him how truly beguiling she could be. He would fall under her spell and there would be nothing he could do to resist.

A/N:

Out of a dozen or so Labyrinth stories, this is only the second time I've written Ludo. The first time was in parody, so that may not count. I love the big yeti, but he's not much of a wordsmith. Anyway, there he is, cute adorable baby Ludo. All together now, "Awwwww!"

Gimme a shout out (if you dare) in the form of a comment or review. We wants them. We needs them. Preciousssss...

Check out what Ellen Weaver is doing with this prompt. It is seriously sexy.

*Happy birthday, Vincent! I bought you an ear bud. ;)