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Courtesan	By : Lasski Category: G through L > Labyrinth Views: 15072 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Labyrinth, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
- 11
Chapter 9 - Political and Emotional Turns.

                Jareth woke up early the next morning, despite his late night, feeling revitalized. Suddenly in top form he suddenly realized that he had been slipping in character and decided he should rectify his oversight immediately. Throwing back the covers he magically clothed himself and summoned his riding crop to him - he always found that it provided a lazy streak of cruelty to his physical appearance, just what a Goblin King needed. Striding through the connecting door to Paul's room he flung back the curtains letting in blinding morning light, and then opened the windows to let in an arctic wind. Paul mumbled unintelligibly in his sleep and pulled the covers over his head.

                The Goblin King couldn't have that.

                Jareth strode to the bed and ripped all the covers off leaving Paul naked and withering in freezing agony.

                "Damn it Jareth, what the hell did you do that for?!" Paul yelled grabbing for the covers and warmth.

                Jareth tossed the covers to the other side of the room and whipped his riding crop down on the bare mattress with a satisfying thwump, landing a little too close to Paul's vulnerable flesh for his liking. Paul jumped and went to roll off the bed and to safety only to find himself blocked off by some invisible wall. Paul cursed violently and rolled back to have a good go at Jareth only to find his liege standing imperiously over him. This, Paul decided, was not a good thing. "Your majesty?" Paul played the humble servant - it was the only thing that was going to get him out of this alive.

                Jareth poked the riding crop into the mattress and leaned on the end, cocking his head to one side so that his silvery mane of hair captured the light. Paul watched as the end of the riding crop sunk into the bedding even as his stomach sunk. Jareth with a riding crop - oh shit.

                "Do you recall, my first advisor, the other night at the ball?" Jareth purred in a soft voice.

                This was really not good. Paul nodded hesitantly.

                "Do you also recall how you introduced Sarah... how you kept me in the dark as to her presence here in the Underground?"

                "I-"

                "Uh, uh," Jareth tisked and tapped the riding crop against Paul’s outer thigh in warning. Jareth straightened to walk around the bed. Paul watched him cautiously.

                "Did you think I would forget how you were dancing with her, how you put your hands on her, how you whispered in her ear and made her laugh?" his voice hissed. Jareth knew he sounded like a jealous lover but as long as he got his point across he didn't care. Somewhere along the line the fact that Sarah was a courtesan had escaped his mind.

                He suddenly stopped moving as he reached the other side of the bed. Then, in suddenly contrast moved so quickly and stabbed the riding whip directly in between Paul legs, mere millimeters away from prized assets. Paul stayed very, very still.

                The Goblin King leaned over his first advisor and whispered. "What exactly did you say to her? Mmmm?"

                Paul swallowed. "A simple conversation, my lord."

                Jareth stared at Paul for long moments as if to see past any lies. In a cold, emotionless voice he said, "from now on I expect you to stay away from her. Am I clear?"

                "Yes, your majesty"

                Jareth lifted the riding crop and lightly tapped Paul's inner thigh in one last lingering warning. "See that you do" and he walked from the room.

                "Fucking mad" Paul muttered low but Jareth heard it anyway and grinned.

                ***

                Jareth wasn't grinning during the opening lunch dinner of the summit. He was in fact, once again questioning his sanity as to why he had come to the High Palace in the first place with all its boring formality.

                In terms of elegance there was no better than the royal dining hall. High ceilings letting in the bright noonday light through arched windows. The walls and floor were white marble streaked with gold from the dwarf mining in the far mountains of the east. The long tables and chairs were crafted by mage song with the silvery wood from the Elvin forests. Woven pieces of art of past royal life were strung up around the room, said to be done by an ancient mythical race whose creativity and inspiration were unsurpassed by any other in the Underground.

                The delegates of each principle in the Underground sat around the tables in their best finery, just as bright and fancy as the food overfilling the tables themselves. Each delegate was seated in order of rank meaning that Jareth, being a king, was near the front of the room along with an Elvin King whose vote he needed, and would, get. Paul had made himself very scarce after their talk this morning but at the moment it didn't matter that much. The opening lunch was one of the few times in which only the representing head of each realm was allowed in, which meant that Jareth was without his first advisor - it also meant that the Elf King was without his priest and it was a moment Jareth had been waiting for. But first he had to get through the meal and small chitchat. He hated it.

                At the very top, seated above all others the High King sat. His first public appearance since the summit unofficially began, and the one who would read out the agenda of the summit for any of those who hadn't managed to steal it thus far. Of pure fae descent, the High King shimmered of the sensuality all fae held with long thick blond hair, more golden in colour than Jareth's and with eyes such a deep blue that they resembled the ocean at night. A truly striking male who had the complacency look down to an art even beyond Jareth's abilities but there was the warning of true intelligence behind his youthful features. If you were smart, you knew that the High King was not one to be played a puppet on his own throne.

                Jareth leaned subtly back to stretch his neck from stress and caught a glimpse of Zekial sitting amongst the four High Dukes. He almost smiled as he watched the Dark Duke lean forward in apparent intense conversation to the new High Duke of the Paladine Borders. The old one had given up his position to marry a female elf commoner and no doubt Zekial was taking advantage to enscond a new pawn in his games.

                There was a sudden tinkling of glass for attention and the High King rose to announce the agenda and Jareth relaxed and waited for the fireworks to begin. He was not disappointed: as soon as his request for separation from the Underground was spoken pandemonium broke as shouts of outrage and dissention spilled over. Across the room Jareth met the gaze of the High King and he almost swore that he saw a glimmer of amusement in those dark blue eyes. But if it was there it was gone the next moment. He didn't raise his voice but his words carried over the entire room, smooth and rich. "My lords, control yourselves." The room instantly fell silent and there was an air of chastisement, and no doubt there were more than a few who felt like a child being told off. They were, after all, meant to be the most powerful men and woman in the Underground. "Any discussion will occur when the court has opened. Tomorrow" he added on the end after a pause as if to remind them.

                Though they obeyed and remained silent for the rest of the reading the tension thrummed in the room and there was an urgency to whisper at the soonest possible moment. Jareth breathed it all in and resisted the urge to smirk. He loved shoving things off balanced and watching the resulting chain-reaction. Perhaps there were still some things about the High Court that he missed. Of course back in the good old days he had had a partner in crime and to date no one had managed to turn the High Court on its head as much as he and Zekial had.

                Jareth's attention snapped back as the reading of the agenda came to a close and everyone rose for the after dinner drinks and outright political maneuvering. In the spirit of the occasion he made a beeline for the Elf King.

                Luc looked up as the Goblin King approached him and without apology extracted himself from his current conversation and met Jareth halfway. They clasped hands firmly in greeting. "Good to see you back at court" the Elvin King said. "Come. Let's take this out on the balcony.

                "Not exactly my place of choice but desperate times call for desperate measures" Jareth replied as he followed Luc and left the milling crowd and listening ears behind.

                Luc gave him a genuine grin. "The High Court hasn't been the same without you. Ever so much quieter."

                Jareth snorted. "I recall a time or two when you were considered a royal pain in the arse."

                "Ahh, but nothing compared to the greatness of two particular fey. It must have been something within their nature" he grinned. "What ever happened between you and Zekial? When I last lived here you two were inseparable."

                Jareth gave a nearly imperceptible shrug. "Different paths, different goals."

                "Yours is to rule" Luc inclined his head.

                Jareth leaned against the railing, his back to the view. "The Labyrinth requires special handling."

                "That's not what I'm talking about. If you weren't so loyal to the High King you would challenge him for the throne. You were never meant to serve under another. Even without the threat from the Labyrinth you would one day want to declare independence from the Underground. You were born to rule."

                There was no reply from Jareth.

                Luc leaned forward to put his hands on the railing and stare out over the Laninal Mountains in the distance. Great mountains that connected the ground to the sky, Underground to Aboveworld and just beyond, the sky shadowing to an unusual orange that touched the very edges of the Labyrinthine Kingdom. "You know you have my vote. What you need to do cannot ever be allowed to be legal and I understand the self-preservation involved. Therefore my first request is that once you accomplish what you need to, you will make it illegal in your country as well."

                "I may do monstrous things but I am not a monster" Jareth replied with only a trace of bitterness.

                "No, but I would have your word nonetheless."

                There was a moment's silence as the wind blew between them.

                "You have my word."

                Luc sighed as a man who has accomplished a long-standing task. "I also ask, in return for my vote, that alliances be drawn up between the Elvin Kingdom and the future Labyrinth Empire."

                Jareth chuckled. "Labyrinth Empire..." he mused, "I like the sound of that." He placed a hand on Luc's shoulder. "It shall be done. I would be honoured to ally our countries."

                Luc laughed, "Don’t believe that my reasons are purely for friendship. Don't think I don't know that even now the Labyrinthine Kingdom is the most powerful kingdom despite appearances, and its king even more powerful than the High King. On its own the Labyrinth Empire could be... unstoppable. If there comes a war I know which side I want to be on. Which side will win no matter what the odds." There was humour in the voice but there was also an underlining tone of truth.

                "You will always have the Labyrinth's protection" Jareth swore.

                ***

                Zekial listened from behind the curtain, eavesdropping into the conversation as much as he was keeping others from doing so, and nodded to himself as he listened. He looked up at the room, the scheming groups, and smirked. The Labyrinth Empire.... mmmm.... long live Emperor Jareth.

                ***

                In the gardens outside the royal dining room a large crowd of people milled around in the warm afternoon sun. Sarah was half reclining on the low wall of the gazebo getting a tan. Being immortal meant that the usual ailments didn't apply and thus skin cancer wasn't a worry. Apart from getting sunburnt (and only then it lasted for a short time), lying in the sun, getting a tan wasn't a problem. Except that it was making her rather sleepy... and her thoughts kept turning towards Jareth.

                He was currently at the opening lunch ceremony where only direct delegates were allowed. Probably sitting there with that half-bored expression on his face, his mismatched eyes lazily surveying everything just waiting for that moment when he shot everything to hell. Then his beautiful lips would tilt up in the sexy smirk, mockingly triumphant. She could see that smirk of his coming out after he had pleasured his partner beyond expectation. He'd run his hand possessively over passion-warned flesh keeping the aftershocks of orgasm alive to remind the flesh what he had given it - as if it would need a reminder. His lips would course over the skin reigniting a burning want-

                Sarah bolted straight up in shock as a hand shook her. She squinted painfully at the bright sunlight before she recognized Carrick. She swiped at him hard. "Dammit! Don't do that."

                Carrick grinned. "You were falling asleep. Maybe you should have taken Zekial's suggestion and stayed in bed today."

                "Pfff" she scoffed, "and miss out on the joy of you annoying me?" She swiped at him again.

                Carrick held up his hands in mock surrender, "hey! If you wanted me that much I would have climbed into bed with you."

                "Arg, with your cold hands and feet. No thanks. Hey look, there's Paul. Paul!" Sarah called out and waved.

                Paul looked at her and then looked around before waving back. Sarah motioned for him to come over to them but he only moved forward a few more metres before stopping. Carrick leaned his head towards hers, "Is he usually like this?"

                Sarah shook her head. "Paul, come over here" she called.

                "Ummm... maybe we should stay away from each other for a while” he called from a little distance

                Sarah immediately understood "Jareth" she growled.

                "Yeah" Paul admitted, "normally it wouldn't matter, but he was rather... forceful in his commands" he looked down meaningfully and Sarah winced in sympathy. "Give it a few days when I feel as though I'm not quite so much in mortal danger."

                Sarah smiled but Paul had already turned to another part of the garden away from her. Poor guy.

                "I thought Zekial told you to stay away from the Goblin King" Carrick commented.

                "He did, I have, I have been. But do you think Jareth is going to take any notice?"

                "I think him taking notice is the problem" he chuckled.

                "Very funny. Anyway, after today it shouldn't be a problem."

                "Sarah... what are you up to?" he gave her a meaningful sideways look.

                "Nothing! Well, nothing that's going to cause any trouble."

                Carrick grunted unbelievingly. His eyes focused and tracked a sight in front of him. "Speaking of trouble and problems" he muttered under his breath.

                Sarah looked and saw Priest Jani coming towards them and groaned. This was one thing she hated about being a courtesan. You slept with a guy once and they thought it was an open invitation to your bed.

                "Need a hand with this?" Carrick offered.

                "No. I should be able to handle this one of my own."

                Carrick nodded and noticed Kayla coming into the garden. Seeing the dark bruise on her shoulder he decided that there was a story to find out and went over to meet the High King's Courtesan.

                Sarah closed her eyes and enjoyed the sun for one moment more before sitting up properly to meet Jani as he came up to her. "Holiness" she greeted.

                Jani smiled. "My lady. How are you on this beautiful day?"

                "Enjoying the quiet."

                "Perhaps we could find somewhere more private as well?"

                Sometimes men just didn't get the hint. "My lord, unless the High Duke Zekial has pre-arranged an appointment-"

                "I'm sure you can bend the rules this once" Jani injected.

                Sarah had bent the rules before, many times, but she wasn't going to do it this time. "-Unless Zekial has done so, I must ask that you do not pursue the issue."

                Anger sparked in his eyes as he bent to her and grabbed her arm. "You're just a whore and you should be grateful to come to my bed."

                Just like a man. One minutes the 'tales of her beauty did not do her justice' and the next she was 'just a whore'. Irritated Sarah twisted out of his grip and bent his arm painfully in return. "Do not dismiss the power a courtesan can hold. I am no street-variety prostitute nor am I one of the poor defenseless girls you lure to your bed. Never forget that I belong to the High Duke Zekial and any action against his property is considered an action against him personally." Sarah shoved him away from her and resumed her original seat, promptly ignoring the priest.

                Jani snarled. "You'll regret this" he threw at her as he stomped off.

                Sarah snorted disbelievingly. Zekial's protection held much weight even against priests. Even against kings... except for one. Sarah sighed, she thought about Jareth far too much. Three o'clock couldn't come fast enough.

                ***

                Carrick caged Kayla against the hedge she was near and brushed his lips just above the impressive curved bruise on her neck. Small dots of healing flesh showed that not only had the skin been bitten but bitten through. "Nice decoration" he murmured. "It looks familiar."

                Kayla glared up at Carrick through slitted eyes yet smoothed her hands up his thighs. "It should. I'm sure he's sunk his teeth into you once or twice before."

                Carrick spun her around quickly, sliding her back to his front, and grabbed both wrists with one hand keeping her back locked to him so she couldn't move. With his free hand he brushed her golden hair out of the way so he could look closer at her neck. "He's never broken the skin before. Zekial looks after his own. This will scar." Delicately Carrick placed his teeth directly over the mark and pressed down. Kayla let out a gasp of pain but her body shivered in remembered pleasure. "It's not wise to take Zekial as a lover, even for a night. Especially if it's only to the make the High King jealous by having another man mark you."

                Kayla struggled against him but couldn't break his hold on her. "Let me go" she hissed. "What need do I have to make the High King jealous."

                Carrick rocked them slowly from side to side in mocking parody of lovers. "Mmm... Maybe because it's been a while since you were last called to his bed. Tell me, my dear whore, has the High King grown tired of you?"

                "Of course not!" Kayla snapped but the sudden stilling of her body betrayed her lie.

                "How long has it been? A week? Two? Perhaps a month already?" He felt her shiver in his arms and smiled coldly behind her. "People have begun to notice" he whispered. He laughed as she struggled again and he let her go. He saw her hand rise and let her slap him before she stalked away.

                People hadn't noticed, but Carrick had and Zekial had suspected - with Kayla out of the High King's bed it left a space for Sarah to fill.

                Eyes shimmering with confirmed knowledge Carrick caught the eye of the Labyrinth King's first advisor. Paul inclined his head, a silent indication of shared information.

                ***

                Unnoticed by all others Zekial nodded for Jani to follow him.

                No one denied the High Duke.

                ***

                Something strange was going on, Zekial could feel it in the air and he didn't like that he didn't know what it was. This sixth sense of his had always kept him one step ahead of everyone else and alive while he had been the High King's assassin. Sarah was acting... off. He couldn't put his finger on it but she was not the courtesan she had always been. If it kept up he would have to find out directly from her. He strongly suspected it had something to do with Jareth. It always did.

                "Have you finished it yet" Zekial snapped, the strange feeling making him impatient.

                "Almost, High Duke" Jani, the Elfin High Priest answered as he worked on translating the stolen copy of an ancient scroll. He didn't want to know how the Dark Duke had obtained such a thing, how many people would have been killed to even know of its existence. The information it contained was petrifying. He felt sick. He wrote down the last words of the document '....devoid of all magick the rogue country has evolved over the centuries to house beings unknowing of their heritage and too dangerous to allow back into the Underground except for one or two individuals over the centuries.'

                With shaking hands Jani handed both the ancient elvish and the translated copy of the scroll back to the High Duke and took a greedy gulp of wine as Zekial read it.

                "It's true" Zekial spoke to himself. This was the second half that was needed to assure the Goblin King's success in breaking his country away from the rest of the Underground. He smiled and the very few who knew him well would know that it held a tinge of relief. He tucked the translation inside his shirt and lit a match to the stolen copy. "I trust that you will keep this occurrence to yourself" he said emotionlessly to the priest.

                "You know I will" Jani admitted looking with scorn at the photos of the courtesan, Sarah, and himself fucking on a bed with the sheets twisted beneath them. Photos that threatened his position of power. He was never going near the woman again.
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Courtesan