Trigger warning: Abuse.
The waning light of dusk spilled into the solar through wafting voiles of granite, painting the polished wooden floor with a receding blush. It was interrupted briefly by the shadow of a pacing figure slipping from behind the desk which dominated much of the room to take up residence by the door. Outside the castle the air was just as sombre, quiet, a held breath that pressed in against the walls from all sides as if waiting for some great news to break, for a body to appear, else for someone or something else to break the silence so it could spill back inside to seek its answers.
The formerly rowdy Goblin City had been reduced to that of a much-abandoned village. Its inhabitants kept largely to themselves of those who had remained, others having packed up what was left of their homes to find stability elsewhere. The guard slumped against the palace walls in small groups, mounts since released from their stables by the one governing as Queen over their lands, finding that their service was 'lacking' and 'no longer required'. While also removed of their duties and stations, the guard had remained, loyal to the one who had conquered and governed them from the beginning. She paid them no mind anymore except as target practice which she instructed her servants to aim for when discarding castle waste.
Their King remained unseen.
Tumbleweeds and chicken feathers blew through empty streets and causeways where Goblins had once loitered and run, the paths they had used now ran to ruin, moss now growing underfoot where they had once trampled the ground into dust, weapons abandoned where they had last been used. It wasn't in the creatures natures to be so reserved and isolated. The spirited little monsters were made of chaos, havoc being their sole purpose to wreak, yet in their stead the silence stretched on.
It wasn't respect for their new monarch that kept them in line- that line had been set for them by Jareth when he had suddenly appeared in their lands and faced them head-on, challenging them for the right to govern them whilst unarmed and unprepared for their onslaughts, all the while determined with a fierce and vicious purpose to carve a place for his presence. It had been drawn in the very sand he first built his castle atop of, which he built the very flagstones and bricks out of under the baking sun by hand while they bit and tore into him to hinder his progress. Because once he was done and the fortress stood there behind him, marking the very centre of The Wastes which the Fae had shunned for its dangerously volatile populace, he had turned his attention to them and their needs.
Single-handedly to begin with, Jareth had taken their ramshackle tents and barely strung-together way of life and had built them somewhere they could call their own right on his own doorstep, welcoming them into his home, then just as methodically carved them each their own, the sun blistering the skin on his back and creaking his bones, bloodying his fingers and bruising his feet. He had made sure to get to know them where they had let him in to find out about their hardships and their needs, finding them not to be quite as dense and treacherous as long believed, so he could house families together properly, give them a real place for selling their wares- teaching them the meaning of trade, so that they had purpose in their lives, things to look forward to… a civilization that was entirely unique to them. They had seen the scars etched into his body from his tireless work, had drank in his furious grief and betrayal from his kin that had so quickly turned their backs on him. Day by day he had earned their respect and in return they had sworn to him their undying loyalty, moving into the castle and taking up servitude through devotion and awe-struck fear of the being able to turn their worlds so irrevocably upside down as he had.
The Labyrinth had come afterwards, another task he was charged with by the beings he came from which the Goblins had never taken to nor tried to understand outside of their first ever King. Those who hadn't wanted to join the city, who found their lives aligned elsewhere, had found solace and a home in the maze where they hadn't found a place to belong to before. Other creatures and beings who had previously had nowhere to shelter them had suddenly pulled together, forming a brand-new populace that was unique entirely to Jareth's Labyrinth, and had also pledged fealty to him for his efforts. His magic washed into them and in turn they merged their own with him, making him stronger in ways a Fae had never been before, changing him from the polished Seelie that had left the grand Capital to a figure in a category of his own.
In time, they built their own additions into his kingdom, and he welcomed them. As the land grew more prosperous, he instilled new laws and rules into their way of life that helped them all live together harmoniously… or at least, as close to it as could be achieved with the creatures he had amassed. It worked. Life blossomed. The Labyrinth grew to have a sentient life of its own. Trade bloomed; council was held to keep all manner of grievances in check. Jareth was so present and had given so much of himself for them all that they all held him in God-like reserve. They feared his wrath and his threats yet revelled in his joy and his generosity.
When he disappeared from them, they all felt it. It shook the very foundation which the Labyrinth was built on. The forests were affected to their rooting systems, the Bog of Eternal Stench had never smelled so pungently, nor had it ever boiled with such ferocity. And as time passed, they were regressing back into what they had been before he ever came to them. With the exception being that where they had toed that line laid by Jareth before to avoid being bogged or kicked semi-harmlessly from one of the huge gaping windows in the castle, they now kept themselves scarce to avoid losing the very homes that had been so carefully and painfully crafted for them… or from joining the throngs which had mysteriously and suddenly disappeared for good whenever they had crossed the paths of Queen Aislinn.
There was no laughter anymore. No more babes to be taken, nor runners to be sabotaged as they attempted to play his game. The Labyrinth's champion had won their hearts as well as their leaders during her run and in her absence, they had been as swiftly lost as he as well. His magic had abandoned them, and they had had to stand by and watch as he withered away slowly within the confines of the castle he had built himself. Even then they had not abandoned him, keeping vigil outside of his chambers to ensure his safety while other more daring souls had gone Aboveground to keep tabs on the Williams Girl.
They had books (nostril-burning cloths covered in badly rendered sketches which they often mistook for… hygiene items) about reuniting their King and their chosen queen dating from that fateful day a millennia ago. Generations of Goblins, pixies, dwarves, Fireys and trolls had been brought up with legends of that time, of a hopeful future where their land prospered once more. And in place they had been given a nightmare where once they had dared to dream. And so, they refused to abandon their posts.
Goblins, by nature, were impossible to remove once they had gotten comfortable.
Said Nightmare was sitting in what had once been Jareth's favourite chair in what had once been his study, flinty eyes glaring knives at the wall across from her. A clock ticked somewhere in the distance, almost too loud for the present company, who sat so still she could almost have passed for one of the sculptures which policed Albion's many entrances. On the desk between the pacing figure and that seated lay an array of seemingly random items. A lock of almost black hair. A scrap of an ivory ballgown littered with dark blue glitter. Old broken masquerade masks that had since seen far better days. A riding crop. Faded black leather gloves…
"Are you trying to annoy me further with your incessant pacing, Aliannah?" The voice cut through the room like a blade, pinning the swarthy Fae in place as she turned back towards the centre of the room. Cowed, she bowed her head in reply and resumed her position before her liege as quickly and quietly as she could, lest her situation grow any graver. The Queen's gaze only sharpened further, an icy fire burning behind needle like pupils as she fixated on the torn-up lip which her servant continued to worry between her teeth and the dark bags littering underneath her eyes. Her lip curled in disgust, her expression turning mocking as she took in the sorry visage before her. "You see, I believed I've made myself quite clear in my expectations of you and in outlining your tasks. In fact, I've overlooked every single pathetically sad attempt you've made to fix your just as disappointing progress thus far in the only mission I've given you. I, alone, thought to be gracious enough to give your worthless life purpose… and this is the best you could do?"
Aliannah's body shook in terror as she slowly raised her eyes and dared to meet her Queen's. Hatred, loathing, murderous fury… it all radiated at her and forced her to drop her gaze again back to her twisting fingers. "I-I… Your Highness I never meant to disappoint you- "
"I never meant to disappoint you-" Aislinn mocked cruelly, standing fluidly from her seat. "Oh please, don't waste more air with your excuses, I can't stand to listen to you any longer."
She moved from round her desk then, causing the other Fae to flinch at her approach, but she never even glanced at her as she passed heading towards the open windows. A long moment passed in which neither moved nor spoke- the former barely daring to breathe lest she bring any more of the monarch's wrath upon herself. The waning sunlight dimmed ever further, the clock's endless ticking punctuating the silence until the blonde finally sighed heavily.
"I tire of this weary charade, my dear friend," her honeyed voice finally loosed. Aliannah's heart raced with hope and warmth as she quickly turned to face her once more, the feeling of the familial term soothing over the lashes her previous whipping tirade had caused. "All I yearn for, is to see that pestilential Williams spawn dead. I crave to feel the light bleed out of her with my own hands, and I nearly had all that I wanted… right here…"
She lifted her hands, inspected her empty palms with almost tangible sorrow and loss… before curling her fingers into her palms so hard her nails bit into the flesh. They fell to her sides in white-knuckled fists, a ruby drop of blood swelling and coming to a pause at the tip of one of her fingers.
"Then, somehow, impossibly, she disappears, making my painless efforts infructuous as with my time. And if I cannot find her, then I cannot kill her… and if that little wretch is left breathing, then she will ruin my plans- do you quite understand me now, Aliannah?" She lowered her waspish words to barely above a whisper, turning her head to direct them over her shoulder. The light from outside silhouetted her, making her both a strikingly beautiful figure to behold as well as quite a threatening one… and the terror before began to take root again in the darker Fae's gut.
"I- Yes- that is, I-," she stuttered, gathering her skirts in her hands as her eyes wildly roamed around the ground in front of her in search of some way to appease her Queen. "... Yes, your highness. I-I understand."
But Aislinn was already moving, and before she had time to explain herself, she was upon her. Clawed hands swiped blindingly fast across her face, throwing it to the side violently as the blonde stepped into the meagre space allowed. "See, Aliannah, I don't believe that you do. I don't believe you understand the importance of this at all. Otherwise, we wouldn't have this nasty little situation on our hands that we do currently, would we?"
Aliannah opened her mouth to speak, but was cut off just as quickly once more. "-No! No, we would not. Just as we would not have random little boys painting pretty little pictures of her, and carving her blasted face into hapless lumps of clay, or Goddess damned soldiers watching our every damned move!"
The wind was knocked out of her as she landed on her back. Panic filled her as pain lanced throughout her body, forcing her to attempt to crawl away, but Aislinn wasn't done. As she advanced this time though, Aliannah threw up her hands in response. "WAIT! wait wait wait wait wait- I- Have you checked the Labyrinth?" She tried desperately.
The sweat beaded on her dark forehead as the moment stretched on between them. Aislinn's gaze never wavered from her, as if committing those very same beads to memory along with the rest of her features, down to the littlest detail. The pulse quickened in Aliannah's ears until she felt sure she would vomit or her very heart would implode from the ferocity of her anxieties. Then finally, her petite nostrils flared, and she turned away.
"Finally, you make yourself useful again," Aislinn said with a smirk, going back to look out of the windows. Either she didn't hear the sigh of relief leave her servant so emphatically, or else she didn't care enough to deign it with a response, for her eyes stayed on the hazy red horizon before her, coming to a halt just breadth of the wafting voiles and clutching her elbows. The view was dizzying in its splendour, as if the very Wastes themselves were trying their best to impress her too... but they too went ignored, for Aislinn didn't care enough of the landmass to show it any attention either.
Her camaraderie would soon join her. The Fae of Nocte would soon have a new home where the light shone, and all of these blights on their existence would be hastened to the Fade. Jareth and the Pretenders would have no one to remember them, no fond songs of their time. They would fade with their bodies, watching as their loved ones passed before them... and that Williams girl would be the first to go.
She drew a deep breath... and finally, she smiled. Thoughts of their tormented souls joining the Fade spreading warmth into her cold fingers. "Send for one of my father's lackies- have him rally a few we can spare to go and search the maze for any trace of her, or anything else... strange. If they die... well, at least it'll feed the weeds." She chuckled a dark laugh to herself, swinging side to side. "I doubt even the fade can find them in there."
"But... but what of his majesty, my liege? Aren't your father's men watching him?"
Aislinn's face pinched. "What is he really going to do? Hm? Have you seen him? He's practically already Faded. 'Bastard's just hanging on out of the sheer spite of it now... but spite can only get him so far..." She replied wistfully, still staring out of the window.
"Besides..." she murmured with a raise of her brows, "If he causes us any problems... he can just go into the maze as well. Rids me of him."
This time the cold laughter rang out through the castle, disturbing the ravens roosting in the beams of the roof into a black squawking carpet which momentarily blocked out the sun. The goblins who had been eavesdropping beneath her balcony pulled themselves up, one straightening the pot on his head and helping brush off the dirt of his comrades singular boot, as they turned to watch the birds go, drooling chins quivering in fear.
"Hear that? Kingy will be alone!" One rasped, slapping the ever living daylights out of the goblin closest to him in glee. "Where's he? Where's he?! It's partie time!"
Pothead's bulging eyes happened bulge even more at the noise, shushing them vehemently. "Shhhhhh! You're going to wake the guard!"
They all turned to look, but the platinum tresses didn't move save for the faint wafting of his snores. Somewhat mollified, Pothead once more took charge. "Spliddup. Hinkle comes with me, Norg with Yem. Look like you done never've."
"Whadda'bout me?" squeaked the rasper, whose knees seemed to be looking just as beseechingly as the rest of him. The goblins regarded him for a moment, sizing him up and Pothead sighed heavily, already lumbering away. "You're already on watch, Moe. Try no get lost."
Jareth sat on his balcony, the faint evening breeze blowing his pyjamas - or lack thereof - around him. His lank hair hung around his face in lifeless lengths, once wild eyes all but flat. His markings were faded, like two day old makeup that hadn't even seen a splash of water, thin lips cracked and pale. His eyes too were trained on the horizon, yet for different reasons. The beauty wasn't lost on him, nor was the warmth the sun offered to him as a stark contrast to the near blizzard that was his chambers. The waning light had painted the sky in such rich colour it threatened to blind him yet he was too weak to move, breathless just staring at it as his mind wandered.
A lone emerald green leaf flashed past his face with the faint winds and caught his eye, drawing it away from the horizon to follow its path. Lonely it glided, yet so strongly as if the wind were merely speeding along its journey rather than dictating it. As he watched it spiralled and twisted, turning so fluidly and quickly that the light caught it again and again, turning it jade, sage, mint, the truest of turquoises. Down and down... down towards the Labyrinth, carting over his fallen city to the imposing walls beyond. And there it halted a moment as if to make sure he were paying attention... before dipping over the edge and disappearing from view.
Shakily and with trembling arms, Jareth curled his fingers around the carved spokes of his balcony wall and pulled himself up. The first time, he made it barely to his knees before collapsing, retching from the pull on his empty stomach. But he tried again. And again. And again. Until finally he was on his knees, his eyes able to see the wall of the Labyrinth all the clearer. And just behind it... was that... a tree?
Mismatched eyes narrowed in concentration as he pressed them to see clearer. Pain stabbed behind them as he strained his gaze, his arms shaking violently as he forced himself to stand. Was that gold, against the tree? Red? Was it... fruit? His thoughts jumbled as he wavered in his upright position, supporting his weight on his hands against the railing and shaking his head. "Think, fool! See what is there!"
In his dream... there had been fruit in his dream. The purest of apples. And they had tasted... but how had they tasted? Where did they take him? Who did they take him to?
His heart raced in his chest, this time not from his malnutrition or sudden exertion. Blinding pain slammed into his mind as he pushed against the restraints that had since fallen in his mind. Who had he seen? Why did his heart hurt him so? He grit his teeth, his entire weight slumping against his balcony. Goddess damn him! His gaze lifted once more, trained on the hazy object winking back at him from his maze. He had to know. He had to know what that was.
"Hel..." his gruff voice cut out into a pitched wheeze, and he snarled from the pain of it. He turned, steadying himself along the walls back into his rooms.
"Hello?" He called gently. He tripped, crashing back to the ground, but he didn't give up. His teeth bit hard into his lip as he dragged himself forward, clawing his way back onto his feet using the drapes of his bed. "Hel-LO?!"
Brittle nails snapped off where he clutched the curtains, shoving himself forward with rattling breaths. Such a fierce notion as he'd not felt in an age stirred within him, forcing him onwards, refusing to grant him a moment's rest. He'd been resting far too long. It was time for action. If he gave up now, then he gave up for good. He had to know who the person in his dreams had been, what the apples meant, why he had awoken to tears and a feeling of such terrible yearning as which no one could attest.
"Ple-ase..." he panted, shoving the curtains away from him and shuffling forward again. "Please... Hello? HeLLO?"
The more he pushed, the greater came the pain. Ebony black hair crossed his mind, his face snapping to the side as if it had physically brushed him. It smelled of... bergamot.. and vanilla. Of strong coffee. A scream erupted from his mouth as he stumbled off kilter again, a pain of sandstone pounding his skull stealing his breath. He knew that smell. He knew it. He knew it.
It wasn't Aislinn. Never had blonde been so nauseating to him... to the point he couldn't even look at his own hair. Yet he couldn't recall one of his ilk with hair like the short keys on a piano... nor anyone who particularly cared for a coffee as strong as he smelled. He pushed forwards, bare feet scraping along the flagstones. "HELLO?!"
Suddenly, there was a rush of air, then a random assortment of clothes attacked his ankles.
"KINGYYY!"
Jareth jolted backwards in fright and surprised, trying to evade his wanton attacker as it shrieked at him. Then another bundle, looking like a beaten up leather boot, popped out of the air behind him with a raspy giggle, then another with a pot on its head, then another, and another...
"Kingy! We looked e'rywh're!" one sobbed at him, blowing its swollen nose into what remains of his pyjama bottoms. Another slapped him off, but tripped over his foot in the process, causing the other's to laugh. Laughter erupted from all of the goblins, punctuated by random bouts of belching and flatulence, which only seemed to spur the hilarity on.
"What...what is this?!" he demanded quietly, confusion clouding the familiarity of the scene. Immediately, the group sobered up somewhat, and tried their best to pull themselves into something resembling a neat line, blatant respect and a little fear marring their unfortunate faces.
"We 'ave come to free Kingy!" one offered up helpfully, pulling his jacket down and trying to smooth the hair of his counterpart.
Jareth's eyes widened.
"Free... me?" he questioned slowly, swaying dangerously on his feet. Assuming him to be somewhat inebriated, this swaying earned him nods of approval from his subjects rather than worry of his wellbeing.
"From Evil Queenie! You not sing cause' her. We don't see you no more." One accused, crossing his arms. Pothead nudged him, shaking his head reproachfully, before stepping forward.
"How you gonna bog us if you can't stop yersel' fallin' in? Huh?" He said, poking him in the leg. Jareth stumbled, but barely managed himself. The goblin tilted his head, the pot sliding over and smacking his temple, but he barely noticed. "You don' look so good... is Kingy ok?"
Jareth laughed, quietly. In utter awe of what he was experiencing, such warmth began to spread inside. "I... I need clothes." He said gently, looking down at himself disparagingly. The goblins nodded, rattling and clanking from their own various outfits. In a blink they had separated, rifling through the drawers and closets available to them while Jareth simply stayed in place. Old favoured poet shirts were thrown around, matching leggings and boots sailing through the air as the group bickered amongst themselves. A harness was added to the mix, as was a rogue cat-o-nine-tails, but the Fae didn't have the energy to do much but smile at their responses to the items- ("Wuss he need this for? He don't got no chickens? No pigs?") ("Maybe he takes himself for a walk?") ("'CRACK' Crackers, that one's a biter!") - until finally they had rangled something resembling an outfit together.
It took a while to get him dressed, for goblins never bothered themselves with pesky clothing items which required things like laces or buckles on them, and also as he had lost too much weight to keep most of the items on. But eventually, and with much goblin ingenuity involving a pair of socks and a hairnet, he was ready to leave his rooms.
"Wha' now Kingy? To da queen?" one asked him timidly, hiding behind one of his friends. The terror in his eyes hurt Jareth to witness, and he did his best to shake his head without falling over.
"No... no... I... I'd rather prefer a walk in the Labyrinth." He whispered, smiling down at them. His stomach rumbled noisily, echoing around the room until he pushed a gloved hand against it to silence it. "I believe I bespied... apples? There?"
Gormless expressions met him, jaws hung open in silent contemplation of that sentence. "Was' an apple?" One inquired, much to the laughter of the others. Jareth merely smiled again, eyes closing as he soaked in being clothed once more. And in company. When was the last time he had spoken more than a couple words?
"And water?" he tried a second time, staring back at them. "I have an insatiable thirst."
Pothead took the lead, running to open the door to the King's chambers. "Food and drink- we gotcha. And a walk to da walled garden."
Jareth hesitated at the threshold, trepidation sending sweat running down his back as he faced the long, darkening corridor. She could be anywhere... she could be right around that corner waiting for him. He swallowed thickly, peering down at a goblin as it held onto the rim of his boot. With a shared nod, they crossed the doorway and stepped outside, making it just a couple of steps before the goblins swarmed him.
"Hud on-" one wailed, then with a pop, the entire party disappeared.
Vomiting had never come naturally to the blond, so when they finally appeared on the outskirts of the maze, he had to rapidly excuse himself to reconcile his differences with his stomach alone. The warmth from the sun was felt so much stronger here, and he raised his head to bask in her light as it graced his features. 'Twas as if the very goddess were cupping his cheek and wiping his brow for him in a loving embrace, so gentle was its touch. Yet regretfully, he pulled himself from his reverie to once more face his challenge.
Goblins momentarily forgotten, Jareth turned to face the Labyrinth for the first time in a millennia. It had been as long since he had stood before her walls in person, staring up at his creation with wide, sunken eyes, to take in all the ways she had remained the same in his absence... and all the ways she had too changed. His arm trembled as he lifted it carefully to set a gloved hand against the brick. At once, the familiar hum of life and magic surged to meet him like an old friend, but with it came a bite which burned. He flinched, curling his fingers back with a hiss. Deserved. He looked at her once more, nodding, before he moved gracefully around the party of goblins to reach the doors.
Something akin to grief hit him as he stared at them. The feeling that something he had been missing, needing, something he had long lost... was behind those doors. His dream came back to him, visions of a long stone corridor long forgotten, gale force wind to prevent him progressing. He pressed his palms against the doors. They barely creaked for a moment, then all at one they swung open to welcome him inside.
The goblins looked at each other, now quivering with fear instead of excitement. "Er... you really goin' int' there? Sir?" One piped up, but he was ignored. Jareth's eyes were fixed resolutely ahead of him, his feet unconsciously taking him inside. As they watched, the doors began to creep closed behind him, and the goblins were forced to make an important choice. It had to be said, that making decisions at the best of time was not a goblins strong suit, and when faced with one of their greatest fears and also their loyalty to their king, the decision was far harder.
Fortunately for them, the doors sealed themselves before they had reached any form of agreement, and the only choice they had now was to find a comfortable place to sit and wait. And hope that Jareth came back. And that the Queen and her men didn't come and find them, or worse, enter the maze too and find Jareth.
A/N: Hi. Very sorry this took so long. I... Well, I guess somewhere along the way I got lost, and I almost said goodbye to this for good. Not because I didn't want to write it, but because many things have happened since I began to write this story and much has changed. I lost the computer I originally wrote this on as it broke, and with it went all my planning. How this was supposed to go. How it was supposed to end. So it's taking a lot longer to write now, especially now that I don't have a plan anymore. So I guess we shall see where it goes together.
Sorry for any and all mistakes, I don't have a Beta, but what I do have is somewhat bad eyes (I need new glasses) and a dream.
I hope life has been kind to you all, far kinder than it has been to me. But if nothing else, I hope you're still here, and I hope you're still enjoying my tale. I'll do my best to make it a good one 3