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A Time for Reaping	By : jinx1764 Category: G through L > Labyrinth Views: 2177 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I don't own Labyrinth, don't make any money, this is a work of fanfiction.

Chapter List
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FYI- If you haven't read my previous fic Last Resort this first chapter will be a HUGE SPOILER for the ending of that fic

so if you intend to read it I would consider doing so before starting this if you don't want to ruin the fun. :o)

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A Time for Reaping

Sequel to Last Resort

Chapter One

(Occurs during chapter 24 of Last Resort)

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The view inside his large scrying crystal grew murky; impossible to see the events occurring beneath the Castle Beyond the Goblin City. Initially, he could see Jareth's lifeless body and the Champion of the Labyrinth's panicked response. He watched her and her young brat seize in pain as The Labyrinth began the final phase of their plan; severing the Bond which it created over twenty years ago, consolidating its remaining power and giving The Labyrinth full freedom to continue destroying its physical prison and ultimately, power over the Underground.
Rejoicing too soon, he felt horror as the Champion challenged The Labyrinth yet again; forcing her way through the energy boundary, cooking to a cinder in what should have been an impossible undertaking for a Mortal. He watched as she reached the Control Orb and forced her Will upon The Labyrinth, invoking the centuries old Ritual and Vow of Blood—where had she gained the knowledge to invoke the Vow?
He cursed in several languages as all their meticulous plans, their decades of shadow scheming came to naught. The large scrying orb seated in a beautiful, hand carved wooden pedestal lost its clarity and murky gray swirled within its depths. The vision suddenly winked out and he was left with nothing but his immense shock.
"Noooo!" He shouted and overturned the priceless crystal and pedestal; they tumbled to the marble floor, shattering. The crystal now useless as that The Champion's control dissolved its link with The Labyrinth. He would see nothing further as The Labyrinth lost the control it obtained decades earlier. Once again it was fully enslaved to its new Master, or Mistress as it happened to be.
He knew the infinite power of the Labyrinth. The Council were fools to enslave it and squander its power on collecting wished away children. When he sensed its taste of freedom decades earlier he offered it an alliance, which it accepted but now that pact would be worthless as The Labyrinth no longer possessed any freewill. All of his plans—dust.
"He lives." She stated behind him, her voice vicious in its emptiness.
"Yes, the Mortal commanded The Labyrinth to restore him, my Love." He said standing over the shattered remains of the scrying crystal, his shoulders slumped in defeat.
"I've told you not to call me that." She chastised joining him next to the shards.
"You know I can't help myself, Love." He answered but the endearment twisted with his anger.
"I thought I desired his death but even for this moment it brought me no happiness, no relief."
He glanced at his mate, his love and saw the pain in her expression. "If his death brings you no pleasure, than what else can I do?"
The shards reflected hundreds of miniature rainbows through the bright, white marble chamber, bringing a false sense of cheerfulness to her façade as she stared expressionless at him. She considered his inquiry. After so long, after this failure, what else could she desire?
"I want him. Bring him to me so that I may punish him as I see fit." She replied one corner of her mouth twisting upwards as her eyes gleamed with inner fire.
Her time of retribution may yet arrive. Centuries passed, she would wait a bit longer. Without waiting for a response, she turned away and gracefully walked from the marble chamber. He watched her leave; her velvet gown whispering against the floor and waited to see if she might spare a single glance backwards for him. She did not. He nodded silently at her demand, knowing he chose death before failing her and prepared mentally for the years of long planning which stretched before him.
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A Time for Reaping