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Last Resort	By : jinx1764 Category: G through L > Labyrinth Views: 7045 -:- 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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Jareth walked briskly from his chambers after leaving the care of what remained of his kingdom in the dwarf's hands and went immediately to the Labyrinth chamber beneath his castle. Only the King, Lord of the Labyrinth was allowed access to this chamber. Ancient magic powered the Labyrinth and the Goblin King controlled the Labyrinth in a type of symbiotic relationship.

The Labyrinth required an immense amount of willpower to control and Jareth was one of the few Fae ever to conquer it. Therefore, he possessed very little in the manner of resources from Fae outside of the Labyrinth since most possessed little willpower, experience, or magics enough to comprehend the needs of the Labyrinth. Many more became jealous of his power via the Labyrinth but were unable to usurp him, choosing instead to ostracize him. The Goblin King mused on his long existence during his walk to the power chamber.

'Much like seeing my life flash before my eyes, I suppose.' He thought with a bit of humor. He did not regret his choices. Becoming the Goblin King gave him power beyond his previous limits. He became one of the most powerful Fae in the Underground. But with any power comes its negatives.

Jareth never knew true loneliness until becoming the Goblin King. Previous he had been social enough with his peers. No social butterfly but still interactive enough to satisfy his needs for both male and female companionship. Hunting parties, formal balls, the dreaded poetry readings that female admirers occasionally insisted he attend. All evaporated once he won the crown of the Goblin King. Decades then centuries passed without a message from old friends and new friends were unheard of.

'Is it any wonder obsession haunts my steps?' He thought. 'That girl happened to be the most interesting thing that occurred in eons. �Bloody hell.' Arriving at the Labyrinth chamber, Jareth took a deep, bracing breath before walking through the energy field which only he could pass. The tingling that accompanied the passage felt weaker than usual; a sure sign of their desperate plight.

"Labyrinth." He called his voice strong and confident.

"All is prepared, my King?" the voice once again reverberating inside his skull.

"Yes."

"You are prepared?"

"As ever."

"The transformation will occur during the transport. Once you arrive in the mortal realm you will be fully human. You will possess no magic, nothing to set you apart from any other human. However, I will be able to leave you will a sense of locating Sarah. Since she is Bound to us through our magic you will be able to find her no matter the distance."

"Useful bit that is, thank you." Jareth bowed his head sincerely.

"Jareth...I am using a large amount of my remaining power to do this."

"Yes, I know. It's ancient magic to transmute a being."

"A month is the longest time I can remain in existence but if you can succeed sooner that would be preferred." The Labyrinth sounded frightened; if an immortal, non-corporal, magical being could know fear. Jareth had never quite heard that plaintive, wavering note in the Labyrinth's voice. It pulled at something inside of him.

"Confidence old friend; losing is not a thing I've ever learned to accept." He braced his arms on his hips and wore a brave face to bolster his claim.

"This is why you have been the greatest Goblin King in my existence."

"By the Gods we'll beat this and continue, Labyrinth! I'll not allow a mortal to best me! Now enough of this sentiment and let's get on with it!"

"Yes, Your Majesty. Brace yourself there will likely be a great deal of pain."

"I would expect no less." Jareth mumbled to himself and lowered his arms to his sides. He stood tall and kept his breathing slow and even, waiting for the inevitable trauma.

Whatever Jareth had been expecting he wasn't sure he experienced it. He wasn't sure what he experienced. The transport and transformation simultaneously took a fraction of a second and centuries. Time and movement between realms as he previously understood it held no meaning for him. He had no basis for comparison for the hell he now lived.

Numbness, pain, separation from body and soul, forced rejoining, his flesh, not his flesh, his world, not his world, immense power, consuming weakness. Gods how to they breathe? Every sense on fire, ice cold, paralyzed then spasming. Wanting to scream, drowning...falling...floating...crashing...

The dark forest stood silent, practically a clich�, except that it wasn't really a forest more of a large park, Central Park in New York City in fact. The dark, silence of the almost clich�d, not quite forest was briefly interrupted by a bright, white flash near the center of the park. Much like someone's forgotten high energy camera strobe lying on the ground which flashes once before dissipating. It lasted no longer than a fraction of a second accompanied by a small sonic bomb like a combination of thunder and an avalanche; if one were close enough to listen and cared to notice.

Charlie, the only one who cared to notice, was a local bum who spent more time drunk or high than sober and not likely to be believed. Even if he bothered to relay his unusual story to those who might listen or if he were able to combine more than five coherent words together. As it stood, telling amazing UFO stories held no interest for Charlie since everyone already either knew or suspected his insanity. So the Goblin King's arrival remained largely unnoticed in one of the largest cities on Earth. But then New Yorkers are professionals at ignoring the unusual and bizarre; it generally lengthens their life expectancy.

Jareth's first coherent thought consisted of pain. Pain fired through every nerve he possessed and a few he suspected grew just for the special occasion. Fractured images of a forest at night assaulted his newly dulled senses. He still stood as he had in the Labyrinth chamber but dizziness and nausea roiled throughout his body. He could feel his equilibrium failing and he stumbled about trying to remain upright; his arms outstretched in protection. His eyes refused to focus. His brain refused to function. Reduced to his most primitive instincts he roared in protest and frustration; promptly collapsing as his knees gave out.

Jareth landed face first onto a thick layer of autumn humus. He clenched his head in agony as a sharp, shooting pain flashed from the base of his spine to his skull and he immediately vomited bile. Disgusted he rolled away from his emesis ending up in a left foetal position; dried leaves sticking in his now short, blond hair. He kept his eyes closed and attempted to remain still to combat the waves of nausea and pain but convulsions raked his all too human body increasing his suffering. Being an accomplished sorcerer and warrior, Jareth was no stranger to discipline and pain but that had been in his superior Fae body.

Two thoughts hovered below the surface of his mind in the ever present internal witness. One, that becoming human was the single most excruciating physical pain he'd ever experienced and two, Sarah had better not be far from his current location. Jareth then found temporary reprieve as he rapidly lost consciousness.
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Last Resort