Oh, Jareth, what are you doing lying on the floor there? Just let me go get my steel capped shoes so I can kick you while you're down.
nothingnothingtralala beta'd this, so she gets to kick Jareth first. Actually, she's probably too nice to kick him, I might have to do it for her...
"Jareth," she grinned, watching him wince at the sound of his own name.
He turned to her slowly, his face shuttered. Serra could see that his finger was raw from trying to remove her mother's ring, to no avail. "It's clearly not going to come off," she said pointedly.
"We shall see," he growled, worrying at it.
"I think you should just learn to accept it."
"And be beaten by mortal magic? I have my own pride to consider."
"Your pride clearly isn't making it any looser," she smirked. "Besides, how was I supposed to know that this would happen? I don't like this weird connection either."
"It's a bond, not a connection," he sneered.
"And what's the difference exactly?"
"I don't expect you to understand. This is my own foolishness. I forgot about the power of sentiment with your kind."
"So sentimental items have power over the fae! Who knew?"
"Of course they don't," he sighed. "This is twofold, a sentimental symbol. The ring stands for eternity. It has no beginning or end. The space inside is a gateway and I entered into it freely. Its significance is, apparently, immortal love and a never ending bond… I should have realised there was a reason that these items were traditional in mortal partnerships. The sentiment gives it power, the power of belief, the only magic you mortals really have."
"Yet I imagine it's unlikely that wedding bands usually give couples a connection like this one."
The Goblin King shot her an irritated look. "The type of ring is beside the point; any sphere can convey a bond like this if the sentiment is there. The reaction is different because usually the power is fuelled by belief, faith in a partner, which can fade. However my power is actual magic – it doesn't diminish. I'm made to be immortal and therefore so too is this bond. Of course they don't suffer this connection, mortals don't have the capacity for magic or forever, belief and magic collided to bring this about," he spat. "Yet another reason that love between a fae and a human is an abomination no doubt!"
"I don't love you," she said pointedly.
"I can see that, thank you," he hissed. "I can see just how much you dislike me, that I'm merely a tool, a means to an end. I can see your ambition. It seems reasonable to say now that, whatever I might have thought, whatever I saw, it was all a trick. The fae cannot love, but we can hate, Serra."
She felt the chill of his animosity flow through the shared bond. He hated her. He felt betrayed by all she had done and he blamed her for all that he had lost, all for nothing. Her teeth chattered from the chill and her head began to ache.
"Jareth, stop," she growled. Just like that, the cold and pressure were gone. She looked up to see him gritting his teeth, his nostrils flared.
"Jareth, I forbid you from ever bringing harm to me, either directly or indirectly," she smiled.
A sheen of sweat broke out on his forehead.
"What wonderful things names are; don't you think so? You know it's hardly fair that you're blaming me for all of this. I didn't ask for a fae stalker."
"You made me bend time for your own petty wants; you made me betray my own integrity! You used me even though you felt nothing for me. I've lost everything because of you, and now you've tethered me with a ring and a name."
"Don't be so dramatic," she scowled. "Once I have what I want we can go our separate ways."
"I offered you the world," he whispered.
"No," cried Serra, "you offered me your world! I don't want your world Goblin King, I never did. Who wants to live in some drab little kingdom full of shadows and monsters? You were the one who wouldn't hear me when I told you I felt nothing for you, always so insistent that I needed to love you. What do you know about love? Can you understand it a little, now that we're bonded? Can you see that your feelings weren't what you thought they were?"
"Yes," he murmured, "but I didn't learn that through this bond. What have you ever loved besides yourself to teach me?"
"Then you're right, Goblin King, perhaps we are two of a kind. You'll never love anyone more than you love yourself: we have that in common, but unlike you I will at least be loved."
The Goblin King snorted. "You're more monster than I. How exactly do you plan to accomplish that?"
"That's where you come in, obviously," she smiled. "I'd like you to make the king fall in love with me."
"Tempting," he grinned. "The troll king or the orc king? No, I don't think I'd wish you on either of them, no matter how disgusting they are. Luckily my magic can't breach the other realms anymore; you closed them off for me more than sufficiently."
"This king!" Serra shrieked. "Don't try to twist my words or you'll regret it, Goblin King."
"I'll just add it to the large pile of regrets that's been forming behind me since we met then," he jeered.
"Jareth," she hissed, "make the king of this province, the king of this castle, fall in love with me."
The Goblin King smiled sharply, his teeth catching the light. "No, I don't think that I will."
Serra opened her mouth and no sound came out. She blinked at him uncomprehendingly.
"But… but you have to!" she wailed.
"That doesn't seem to be the case," he shrugged.
"I said your name, I commanded you! If I use your name you have to do what I say."
The Goblin King cocked his head to one side and smiled pleasantly.
"Why won't you do it?" she asked.
He sniffed loudly and admired his fingernails, obviously ignoring her. Irritated, she pushed at the link between them and it started to unravel. He couldn't grant the wish… because….
Red pain blossomed in her head and she screamed at the sudden direct impact. She looked up to see the Goblin King, his mouth bloody, teeth buried deep into the flesh around his finger, trying to remove the ring.
"I commanded you not to hurt me!" she screeched.
"Which is exactly why I was hurting myself instead," he drawled. "Isn't this bond just fascinating?" Blood dripped from his lips and he forced a ghastly smile, but the ring remained.
"You should have bitten it off," she said softly; "I won't give you another chance. Jareth, I command you to leave the ring alone. I want you to never remove it from your finger."
The Goblin King let out a painful howl and bared his teeth dangerously, unable to strike back at her.
"Jareth," she grated, annoyed. There was a dull twinge of pain in her head from the shock of his shared injuries. "Tell me why you won't make the king fall in love with me."
His lips formed a tight line, as if trying to hold the answer back. They betrayed him, however, and he glared as he replied. "It comes down to power jurisdiction. Like the ring, love is all about belief, not magic; this is why the fae rarely encounter it. I can't grant you a wish that I do not understand myself; it's not something magic can control. It's one of the few things human reside over entirely, a completely different sort of power."
Serra paused, irritated. So he couldn't give her the king's love, which explained why the Goblin King hadn't used magic to make her fall in love with him. The thought sent a shiver up her spine. Was it because the fae had such great powers that they'd lost the ability to believe in anything? Was that why this concept of belief, and the power that came with it, were foreign to them?
"There isn't much that you can't do though, is there?" she mused. She watched as he remained silent, observing her. "You could subjugate the king to my will," she suggested.
"Giving up so easily?" he asked.
Serra blinked with surprise. "What?"
"I asked if you were giving up so easily. Didn't you just tell me that I would never be loved but you were going to be?" he smirked.
She had. She had said exactly that, and suddenly she wanted to make it happen just to ensure she could wipe that smug look off of his face, but how? He couldn't contest things which came under the power of belief because he was fae and the concept was completely alien to him, but what about her?
She beamed. "Then I wish you would give me Certain Powers."
The Goblin King's face remained closed as he watched her from beneath his heavy lids.
"Power," she clarified, "you give me the power of magic and I'll turn it into the power of belief. See, that's something that I can do and you cannot," she sneered. "You don't know how to bend belief, but I do. My father was a story teller, a liar, and I know all too well how the truth can be bent, and perception with it. The honesty of the fae, what a weakness! Deception is something we mere mortals understand all too well; it's part of our survival. Isn't that why I'm alive right now? I didn't even need to lie to you, Goblin King, I just let you think that your delusions of love were truth and you were all too easy to bend, even if time wasn't."
She could feel the dull buzz of his anger through the bond, diluted by her command to save her from injury. It was easy enough see the cold rage on his face though, and even though she knew she was safe from him she paled. Puffs of smoke rose through the air as he panted in fury, and she realised that the temperature around them had dropped significantly. The dried blood around his mouth gave him a macabre appearance, his skin so pale against the rusty crimson it lent it a brutal impact. His eyes were such a cool blue they were like chips of ice, sharpened and honed to cut with the flutter of an eyelid.
"Serra," he whispered dangerously, "don't do this."
She smiled. She had cowed him. Finally she, a nothing, a leftover, had triumphed over someone as great as the Goblin King, and that would only be the beginning.
"I… I beg of you, don't. There is no going back for you if you do," he warned.
"Go back?" she laughed. "Goblin King, I will never go backwards again."
"This is not going to bring you happiness."
"Of course it will," she snapped. "I'll be a queen, I will have everything. What more do you think I could want?"
"To have earned it," he spat.
"Oh I have, I have earned it," she murmured. "Every day that I've had to put up with my father, the townspeople, poverty… you, I've well and truly earned a chance to be something special."
"This isn't special," he hissed. "This is domination over a country and a person."
She smiled. "You'd know a little bit about that, wouldn't you?" Through their link she could feel his worry, his horror and his despair. She was so close to finally being happy though, how could she not use him to achieve that? Now that she finally had the power, now that she would be able to punish those who had mistreated her and receive all the indulgences she had always deserved… She couldn't turn away from that.
"Jareth, I wish for you to give me Certain Powers," she said. "I will mould them to meet my will."
As she saw his look of anguish she felt the familiar shiver up her spine and a tugging at her heart. It would be alright though, she would let him go after this and she would forget him. There was a chance though, just a tiny chance, that one day she would have need of him, and so, she would not forget him entirely.
Time passed.
A peasant girl married a king and they bore a child. The kingdom celebrated, at first, but the queen was great and terrible and became feared by her populace all too quickly.
Her people did not love her, and, in time, she found that her king did not love her either.
She knew that if she had not borne the child she might never have noticed, but as she watched her husband with his son she saw that the room was alive with warmth. His heart spoke through his eyes, his every touch a tender caress, his every smile filled with joy. When he was with her his eyes were glassy, his hands impersonal, his smiles forced.
As more time passed she learned what the Goblin King had come to understand, what she herself had once known. Love cannot be coerced.
She had formed her powers well; she was intoxicating, beguiling, she commanded adoration, but not affection, and never love. She poisoned herself with her own anger and regret, she became unable to stand the detached touch of her husband or any of her numerous lovers, and each day she watched jealously as her son received the one thing she was always denied.
Sometimes she thought about the Goblin King, and she sneered, sure that she was closer to finding that elusive emotion than he would ever be. But each day that she was deprived of it she grew less and less sure of her decisions and was eaten up by envy.
Until the day she called his name again.
Daniel had left the bed before she had woken, but that was hardly unusual, her husband made a habit of it. Most women might think it was an act of courtesy when their husband was careful not to wake them, but Serra knew all too well that her husband simply did it to avoid her. He might be a king, but he was a weak man, or had been ever since she had married him.
She felt grouchy thinking about it, like the whole day had been ruined with his one childish action. As she stepped from the bed and found her robe she heard his voice from the nursery.
Of course, we can't get through one day without him fussing over his son.
She tied her robe and wandered over to the arch which separated their bedroom from that of her son. She was usually happy to let the nannies take care of Matthew, but her husband seemed to want to be involved in every activity that they themselves would often perform.
"Darling," she called, glancing through the doorway to where Daniel was leaning over the crib. He stiffened at the sound of her voice, the plaything he was holding frozen above her infant son's head.
"Yes," he replied automatically.
Just yes, only ever the exact words required. She tried to remember a time when he had said more than was necessary or had answered her fondly. She had heard more terms of endearment from the Goblin King than she ever had from her own husband. His anxious face glancing in her direction made the blood heat in her veins.
"Come away from there," she demanded, more forcefully than she had expected to.
"Yes." Stooping, he lowered his head, careful not to meet her eyes, and followed her back through the doorway. He had been a very handsome man once, but he had aged prematurely, and so not getting to look upon his face was rarely something to make her resentful. Today, however, she had woken with a bad taste in her mouth and so these little details made her irritable.
"Look at me," she sighed.
He did, reluctantly, breaking her gaze once when his eyes flicked back to their son's room.
"Do you love me?" she asked. A shiver ran up her spine, something which had not occurred in some time. It brought to mind the times she herself had been asked that question.
Are you in love with me?
You will be.
"Yes," said Daniel. His voice was empty of emotion when he said it. His eyes had the same glazed look they often got when he was speaking to her.
"Do you love Matthew?" she rasped.
The sunshine in his smile left her mouth dry. "Of course," he said softly, and his face was warm with the emotion that he never shared with her.
Today she felt shaken; some inner flame was burning with a bitter edge and it would not be quelled.
"Do you love me more than Matthew?" she barked.
A complex tapestry of emotions crossed her husband's face. "Do you want me to?" he asked.
"Just answer me," she croaked. "Do you love me or do you love Matthew? If you had to choose between us who would you choose?"
Daniel's bottom lip quivered. "Why do I have to choose?"
"Because I'm telling you to choose one, now tell me your answer right now!" she screeched.
"I choose Matthew," he said. It was as simple as that.
She had known it would be, really. But what had Matthew ever done to win his love? She had broken a Goblin King, she had turned magic into belief and bent truth. He had done nothing but be born.
"I have done so much to have you," she whispered.
Her husband stood there, non-responsive. She had not commanded his reply and so he would not give it. She slapped him, hard, and knew that she was crying. He did not move to comfort her; she had not told him to.
"Get out," she sobbed, and felt her bitterness deepen when she watched how quickly he escaped the room.
She stood in the doorway of her son's room for most of the morning, watching him sleep. He was such a little thing: he couldn't feed himself, or walk, or talk, or anything. And yet he had love. He had done nothing to deserve it and he already had the one thing she wanted most in the world. Daniel adored him. She tried to remember if her husband been a little more attentive before the child was born. Had he looked her in the face at least? She couldn't remember, but he didn't now, and that was enough.
What would he do if something were to happen to little Daniel? Would that love need to go somewhere, would it find her? Maybe he'd just be ruined, as the Goblin King had been ruined by the loss of love, although he had lost it before ever finding it. She liked that, the thought that she had a different sort of power now. This child belonged to her; it was an extension of her. She could take it away from him if she wanted, deny him access, hide the infant. She faltered. Her husband was still king. How much reach did her love spell have; where was the breaking point? She knew herself that he loved the babe. How far was the tipping point before the magic no longer had effect? Would it snap if she took the joy in his life away?
That wasn't fair. She should be the joy in his life, she should be the one who received his love, she deserved it… didn't she? If only she had never had the child, the mewling little monster who focused all his attention. If only there was some way to remove the child without her husband knowing, then he wouldn't be able to fight off her spelled belief with actual belief.
…But then, there was…
Serra took a heavy breath and let it out again: of course there was a way. She could feel that tenuous bond which she had learned to ignore over the years right within reach, and she pulled it tight. He was there, an indifferent flicker and a name.
"Jareth."
His eyes were hooded when he appeared, evasive, but his whole demeanour was far colder than she could ever remember.
"Serra," he grated, "you called me, and here I am summoned like some beast."
She licked her lips. "I wanted to ask a question."
He frowned, angrily. "You called my name just so you could ask a question?"
"It's important."
"I highly doubt that," he snarled.
"What happens with the things that get wished to the Labyrinth?" she asked.
He paused. "What things that get wished away to the Labyrinth?"
"Say if someone wished away a wheelbarrow for example?"
"A wheelbarrow?" he drawled, raising a condescending eyebrow. "I can't say I've ever retrieved a wheelbarrow before."
"But if you had, what would happen to it?"
"I would take it to the Labyrinth, obviously."
"Right," agreed Serra, "and a family would be missing their wheelbarrow."
The Goblin King shrugged. "The wisher could always take it back if they wanted, although I'd probably make them work for it since they'd be wasting my time," he smiled grimly.
"But what if they didn't want it back?" she asked.
"Well then it would become a part of the Labyrinth if it's an unwanted item; it's forgotten by the mortal realm."
Serra bit her lip in anticipation. "What do you mean forgotten? The owner would forget about it, forget they made a wish?"
"If they denied the chance to retrieve it then, yes, the transaction is complete, everyone will forget about it."
"Everyone?"
"Everyone," he confirmed, "except me of course."
"Then what if it was a child?" she asked.
The Goblin King scowled. "Who would wish away a child?" he scoffed.
Serra watched as Jareth's disdain turned to something else, he could feel her intentions along that shared bond. It wouldn't take him long to understand. The Goblin King opened his eyes wide and started to back up, stopping when he suddenly found that the crib was barring his way. She could see him swallow heavily as he looked down at the babe, she could feel the panic through their connection.
"Serra, I don't know what you're thinking, but stop thinking it this instant," he rasped, a quaver in his voice. "Even the fae who cannot love their children at least raise them."
"Then I should have nothing to worry about," she challenged.
The Goblin King had a hard time unlocking his eyes from the child, but when he looked back at her he was shaking.
"You have taken my future, my honour, my people and my one chance at love. This one thing, my freedom, it is all I have left. If you take that away there will be nothing left of me. I will give you anything," he whispered. "I will be your willing slave, if only you do not ask this of me."
Serra pursed her lips. "Even as an unwilling slave I find you fulfill your purpose just fine," she replied, venom in her voice. Strangely, her own body was quaking; she couldn't seem to stop the tremors. When she touched her cheeks she realised they were wet with tears, but she was sure that she wasn't crying.
"Serra, how could you live with yourself? This is your child."
"A fact that I'll comfortably forget in just a moment," she reminded him, stony faced.
"Please…" pleaded the Goblin King.
"Jareth," she called, making him jump, his face full of desolation. "I'm sorry, for everything so far. I'm truly sorry, but I was happy before I realised what was missing. I was happy before I realised I would never get what he achieves so easily every day, I need that to go away again." She took a deep breath and looked deep into the Goblin King's eyes. "Jareth, I wish that the goblins would take this child away." She leaned in close to his ear and smiled triumphantly, "right now."
As she spoke the wish the room seemed to fill with howling voices of pain, agony and despair. It was as if a hurricane had been let loose in the nursery and the sound pressed down on her like some great force. She dropped to the floor to protect herself, covering her face with her hands. She felt like she was being pulled apart. Her own fingers were ripping at her hair and she couldn't seem to control them. She was wailing, her chest aching so much she felt sure she would die and that death would be a relief from this anguish. Finally, as the wind began to subside, she found that she was the only inhabitant of the nursery which had never been used, and, although she hadn't gone to sleep, she woke up.
A/N: Well, there we have it, the last of our Serra flashback. It feels a little bit rushed (probably because I'm so eager for the next chapter) but hopefully you'll all muddle through well enough. I couldn't help but add some new magic theory (which was probably as clear as mud) let's blame Smiles1998 for that one, that review got me thinking about the mechanics behind the rings ;D
Proof again that your reviews do indeed shape my stories!
Thanks again for all your wonderful support, especially to those new comers who have speed read themselves up to date. The next chapter will answer THE LAST OF THE UNANSWERED QUESTIONS (well... bar maybe one or two), so I'm very excited. Although... dun dun DUN... we only have three chapters left now - give or give (although I suspect it'll definitely be three).
Smiles1998: Look what you made me do! Hahaha after reading your comment I was like... hmmmm... I do so hate deus ex machina type content, and saying 'oh the rings are a bond so they do this' (with absolutely no basis) suddenly didn't sit right with me! So I actually had to use my imagination and come up with something, it was painful and difficult, please bake me cookies as recompense ;)
Obsessive360: These characters we try to control, they always end up controlling us, don't they?
LabyrinthSlave: Ahaha I think you might have been saying that quite a bit this chapter! Great name btw!
Wudelfin: I think I haven't gone where you expected, but that's okay, you're all used to expecting the unexpected from me by now... surely?
: Thank you. Done and done, let's get back to our favourite heroine next chapter.
StakeMeSpike04: Patient pet, we are almost at the syncing countdown *purrs* (I think I'm more excited about this than anyone else could possibly be!) I blame myself if this story is missed, I really suck at synopsis! I should just write 'no seriously, it's pretty good, check it out,' or maybe go with reverse psycology, 'don't read this story, just stop, you really don't want to read it.' XD
bassoongirl14: Yes, I'm not overly sentimental myself but thought that it would be another successful black mark on her character. Plus I can't help but play off on those similarities between Serra/Sarah. Sarah also give up her mothers ring, but the whole circumstance is different and doesn't leave you with a bad taste in your mouth.
Bee-cee-kay: Naaaw thankies! Hope you'd enjoyed the chapter, the next one is going to be a killer!
J Luc Pitard: Ahaha I enjoyed your review which pitched me from sci-fi (which so often walks hand in hand with fantasy) right over to GlaDos, niiiice... which is still technically sci-fi now that I think about it, I'm sensing a theme here! I've seen a lot of fics which tangle with the concept of Sarah being human or Sarah obtaining immortality, I will tell you one thing, I have no intention of joining that hot mess. Somethings are best left to the imagination, and besides, Jareth sings that it's only forever, so surely he has a master plan? Sarah is definitely overly empathetic about circumstances beyond her control, but that's what makes her the kind of hero she tends to be, and I think it's a very human trait to take on more guilt than we should bear sometimes (said like I'm not a human... that's concerning.)
Aleta Wolff: I'm sorry dear, he's ignored us yet again and sunk even deeper. Let's hope he can still pull himself out!
Getsunohimesama: WOW. No really, thanks so much for REVIEWING EVERY CHAPTER! I'm so excited I'm even using caps lock! I was very excited to wake up and find these in my inbox. I think most of the questions you asked were probably answered as you read further (although let me know if that's not the case) but I will clarify: Jareth certainly thought that he loved her, but he doesn't know what love is, just that it was seen in his future. This sequence was all past events, part of Jareth's 'the pattern repeats' spiel. As to whether Sarah is Serra's reincarnation/descendant, your guess is as good as mine. Since it's not necessary to the storyline I decided not to define whether there was or wasn't a connection, so each reader can draw their own conclusions. There is no right or wrong on this one because I'm specifically leaving the interpretation open :)