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Falling --COMPLETED	By : jinx1764 Category: G through L > Labyrinth Views: 10231 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I don't own Labyrinth, don't make any money, this is a work of fanfiction.

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His flight home over the failing Bridge proved arduous, both physically and mentally. Realizing minutes counted, he spared a thought for his subjects still celebrating with Sarah, wondering if they might be trapped Aboveground should they choose to remain overlong.
The fools best return as quickly as possible else they'll be spending a great deal longer as her guests then she expects, he thought with a bit of evil glee, hoping at least Hogbrain might accidentally be trapped. That alone would make this epic disaster worthwhile.
Shaking off his distracting wishes, Jareth focused instead on his flying as the gray spires of his castle winked over the mottled horizon. The Underground's breaking dawn warmed the ancient stones, pricking out the magic liberally dusting the castle's surface, making it shimmer with the pinkish-yellow rays. Effects of the Bridge's failure had yet to reach his home, ironic since the damage started in the Improbable Room, the very core of his fortress; but that's how magic worked on occasion, reverberating backwards as the ripples gained strength upon one another. Soon, however, the damage would be felt and he needed to prepare.
With a piercing shriek, he arrowed down through the atmosphere, crisp air pummeling his slicked back wings as he plunged towards his throne room. Having made this mad dive many times in the past, it was nothing for him to became a snowy streak over the labyrinth targeted for the four foot diameter, round, open window; and time couldn't be wasted, he required assistance from the hated Triumvirate to repair such damage.
Passing the window's boundary, he transformed midair in a flurry of white feathers and cloth, landing upon his booted feet with a solid smack to the flagstone floor. Not bothering to pause, Jareth strode quickly (though he did not run, kings never ran, it exhibited untoward rashness to their subjects) to his great hall, shouting along the way.
"Alare! Jenea!" Before Jareth finished walking the length of the dining hall, his long legs devouring the distance easily, both his younger siblings materialized next to him. Jenea, his twin, prepared to berate him for stirring up the household. Interrupting her gaping mouth and Alare's upraised, accusatory hand, Jareth silenced them with a stern, regal look. Rarely did Jareth invoke his royal rights as Goblin King and eldest sibling upon them, that he did so now without a word bespoke of dire tidings.
"What is it, brother?" Jenea, the bravest when faced with Jareth's wrath, asked after her jaw snapped shut on her initial response to Jareth's commotion.
"Sister," he said, his mismatched eyes brimming with worry as he gripped her shoulders, all three halting.
No, she realized with a jolt, worry is too weak a word for what swims in his eyes.
"The Bridge collapses as we speak!"
"No." The word whispered from her lips; she heard her second brother, the youngest of them, gasp beside her.
"It cannot be!" Alare said, grabbing Jareth's forearm, wrinkling the silk shirt heedlessly.
"It is, Alare, I have seen the damage myself," Jareth replied, his tone stoic, but Jenea saw the emotions he fiercely smashed behind his regal façade, the ones he rarely showed anyone, even his siblings. But Jenea was his twin, a rare occurrence in the Underground...that they were royalty, rarer still. She knew things about Jareth no one else in realm could hope to guess. Often to Jareth's chagrin, but occasionally his gratitude when she intuitively knew things which he did not consciously reveal.
"Alare," Jenea said, her voice as solid as her twin's meeting Jareth's eyes. "Contact the Triumvirate immediately."
"Me?" He squeaked. "You want me to do it?" Grasping the lapels of his waist coat, Jenea forced her little brother to look up with an abrupt shake.
"Pull yourself together, brother! We haven't a moment to lose!" Alare's lips gawked for a few seconds, and his eyes dilated, darting between his stern older siblings, then his backbone reestablished its position and he shook himself free of her.
"Alright, alright!" He snapped, brushing his lapels and resettling locks back into place with a disdainful sniff. "I'll contact the unstable freaks, but don't complain to me when they destroy everything."
"I'll control them, Alare," Jareth said. "Do as your sister requests and fetch them, quickly before the Bridge fails completely." A swift nod and Alare vanished in a puff of glitter. Turning to his sister, Jareth asked the question he wasn't sure he wanted answered.
"Jenea, did you sense any of my subjects cross back over to the Underground?"
"You mean the traitors running to that detestable girl?" She flicked her straight, platinum hair over her shoulder, pouting slightly.
"Who else has crossed recently?" he answered snidely, resisting the urge to grind his teeth. I haven't time for your grandstanding, dear sister.
"No one I am aware of, other than you of course."
"They've not returned? Any of them?" Forcing his voice to remain neutral, Jareth nevertheless could tell when Jenea saw how distressed he became, never could keep anything hidden from her for long.
"No, I don't believe so." Eyeing him keenly, she narrowed her lids at him-mismatched mirror images of his. "What do care for the betrayers? You should leave them to rot in the Aboveground."
And Sarah thinks me cruel, he thought, watching Jenea's scowl deepen, twisting her delicately beautiful face into a caricature.
"Jenea," he said, gripping her upper arms until he knew he left bruises. "You would do well to remember the sovereign duties of royalty."
"Jareth, you're hurting me." She tried backing away, tried to free her arms, her eyes fearful, and voice wavering.
"You may not be Goblin Queen in name," he replied in a low, vicious tone, "but you rule by my side as regent due your place as princess and my sister." He shook her once, sharply. "Do not forget your place."
"You would treat me, your own blood, like a common street goblin, yet show concern for those traitors?" She whined, finally breaking free from Jareth's grip and stumbling back several feet, her face flushed and blotchy.
Advancing upon her, he spoke, "Have you no understanding of what occurs?" Her eyes blank of answers, he continued. "If- no when-the Bridge collapses and those traitors have no way back to the Underground, they will be trapped Aboveground for an unknown length of time."
"So?"
"So, dear sister, as beings of magic they cannot exist without a tether of magic. Its wisp will evaporate with the destruction of the Bridge; they will suffer and die a most terrible fate, far worst then even they deserve."
"But they did this!"
"No, she did this, Sarah. They only helped her out of mistaken altruism, which I could've forgiven after they spent a few years in an oubliette." Corrected, Jenea grew silent and they stood staring at each other for a few moments. Finally she spoke, tentatively.
"What will you do?"
"What I must. What I can." He shrugged, and she read near defeat in his movements which shocked her. "Once the Triumvirate arrives, I'll join with them to repair what I can. Hopefully we can rebuild the Bridge before it's permanently destroyed, before it damages the Aboveground beyond all hope."
Chin sinking to her chest, Jenea frowned, seemingly cognizant of the serious ramifications. "And what of us, if you cannot?"
Jareth shrugged again as if resigned. "The Underground will go on, but without the dreams and hopes of mortals to renew us, we will be stagnant."
"How could this happen? What did the brat do?"
"That, I do not know," he replied, baring his teeth in anger, fists clenching at his side, and Jenea witnessed his rage re-ignite at the mention of Sarah. "But I will discover her abilities if I must dissect her."
"And I will happily assist you, brother," she said, crowing under his palpable wrath. She loved witnessing the Goblin King's anger turned full force upon another-unstoppable, burning, searing-it awakened within her the other half of her soul.
"Come, Jenea." Reaching out, he offered his hand to escort her to the dungeons, "We must prepare for Alare's arrival with the Triumvirate. They will be most displeased if there is no suitable sacrifice awaiting them." With a broad smile, she accepted his hand just before he teleported them from the great dining hall to the dank dungeons below the castle beyond the Goblin City.

A/N: THANKS WOLFMOONSHADOW! THIS IS MY LATEST FANFIC AND I'M NOT ONLY TRYING SOMETHING NEW WITH THE LABY FANDOM (SOMETHING NOT OFTEN DONE) BUT I'M WRITING THIS WITH THE INTENTION OF CONVERTING IT TO AN ORIGINAL WITH NUMEROUS CHANGES. HOPE YOU ENJOY!
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Falling --COMPLETED