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Shattered	By : TarnishedArmour Category: G through L > Labyrinth Views: 7713 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: Based upon the work of Jim Henson; specifically Labyrinth, copyright 1986 by Jim Henson & associated parties. I do not own or have legal rights to Labyrinth, etc., or make any profit from them. *Individual disclaimers for other works in

Chapter List
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The next day, Karen saw Oakheart in the king's office, where she had been invited to lunch. She shuddered when he greeted her and he smirked in return.
"He's not back yet," Oakheart said, "but he will be shortly. A wished-away child matter."
"Oh." Karen sat uncomfortably with the elf. Elfinwood, she corrected herself. She shuddered lightly. He was…like that…but with an elfinflower as a mother…and…eeeeewwww.
Oakheart sighed. Well, there went Karen as an entertaining dinnerguest. He did enjoy her conversation. And she danced so beautifully. He would stop by while she practiced admire her form. She was so limber, so strong, and yet she looked so very delicate…but now he had to mend some fences. He shuddered at the thought of wooden fences. Poor wood.
"Karen," he asked, "is something wrong?"
"No, I…Well, I read about the…elf acceptance rituals." She felt her stomach roll. "It was…revolting."
Oakheart plastered on a confused look.
"As revolting as getting hugely fat, panting and sweating to expel something much larger than it was when it got in there, and being covered in blood and other things?" Oakheart shuddered. Now that was revolting, and for some reason, these mammalian women just kept doing it! Yuck! "At least this doesn't take nine months and the elfinflower has an excellent view of her feet the entire time."
Karen was about to reply, when she realized that pregnancy and childbirth was just as gross, but in a way she was more used to. She had, after all, been through it. Given the way her body had changed, and most of those changes being one hell of a surprise to her, she might actually be forced to agree with part of what he was saying. And that was just…wrong. Surpressing a shudder at the thought of finding elven reproduction in any way non-traumatizing, she sighed.
"Flowers are so much more dignified about it all," she said, using a pixie's point of view to end the conversation before she thought about it too much more. Then she changed the subject to the errand Jareth was on. Anything but trees, sentient or non.
Oakheart blinked. Then let it go, addressing her questions about the child Jareth was retrieving. After years of dealing with Jareth, he knew when to shut up and leave a subject alone. Jareth wouldn't try to prune him, but Karen just might.
"Well, he is only the King of Goblins in some cultures. In others, like the one he's going to, he is called the Prince of Cats, the Pied Piper, the Night-stalker, the Lord of Night…" The titles went on and on and Karen listened attentively.
Jareth looked down on the girl who had wished for him so sadly only a few minutes before. He did not look like Sarah was used to seeing him. His hair was dark and slicked down, white streaks radiating from his brow. His ears were more pointed, his eyes cat-pupiled. He wore skin-tight silk and leather, his customary boots replaced by soft leather moccasins that made no sound as he crept into her room. The magic changed him so the girl would see what she needed to see.
The wish echoed in his ears.
"Would the Prince of Cats could take you, little one. At least then you would not starve."
The girl, the mother of the tiny child, was barely fourteen. She had been married and mated too young, though that was the way of it when bride-price paid for desperately needed medicine and food enough to sustain her family for a year. The husband, though, had died three days before his child was born, and her family could not take her while the child lived. The child, and the girl, belonged to the man's family, who did not want her or the child. They had left her and this week-old infant in filth to starve or survive on their own. So far, she had managed to survive, but the child was in critical condition. She could not nurse the child properly, for she wasn't getting proper nourishment.
She was stuck in a place with no escape. Her sorrowful wish, for her child and not herself, allowed him to do something he almost never did. As Prince of Cats, he had more leeway than as Goblin King, and this part of Sarah's world still was rich in superstition and belief. With the right things beside her, she would be freed of the child she should never have had, return to her family, recover, grow strong and become revered by those of her village. And no one would dare to harm her for fear of him. He smiled a feral smile and watched the girl as she slept fretfully. The baby was barely breathing, but he could last a few minutes more.
He pulled a crystal into the air and sent a message to one of the cats that kept his stable free of rats. Moments later, the crystal returned, the required intelligent kitten inside it, and settled in his hand. The kitten stared up at him with big blue eyes, waiting.
"Well, my handsome lad," the Prince of Cats whispered, "it is time for a little make-over." The kitten cocked its head to the side and waited, blinking slowly.
Jareth changed the fur from grey stripes to coal black, with some white streaking radiating back from the face and stopping just behind the ears. He gave the cat the required blue and green mismatched eyes and admired his work. The kitten purred with the feel of his master's magic running over him. The cats of the realm revered Jareth, for he was much like them. He got the cream and caught the rats and played so cruelly with his victims, but he also brought love and care and gentle purrs to those he loved. He was Prince of Cats, and the cats were content with him.
"Now listen well, youngling, for you've a job to do here. When she is back with her family for six winters, and you have a son with the right markings, you will leave this village and go into the wild. While you are there, you will change." The kitten nodded, intelligence growing bright in his eyes. Jareth's magic continued to work, giving the kitten more brains than most cats, and enough latent magic that he could follow these instructions when the time came. "You will come here, with good fortune following you, and you will seek out this girl. She will be healed by then, and old enough for marriage again. You will marry her and spend your days with her, the girl touched by the Prince of Cats."
The kitten purred and Jareth smiled. Some parts of this unwanted children business were a pure pleasure, especially when he could rescue one and turn the other into a very desirable child indeed. The crystal around the kitten disappeared and Jareth brought the mother-cat of the stables to him. She was a wise old tabby who had seen much. She rubbed against her prince and purred her love for him. Jareth petted her and whispered to her in the way of cats. When she stood still and winked at him, he placed the baby between her front paws and told her to take him to the nursery in the capital. She winked again and vanished to do his bidding.
"Now, for you, youngling," he murmured, looking down at the girl. "A prince's gift for a child so willing to be a gift for her brother and parents." He stroked the kitten's fur and felt the little creature purr loudly. Jareth smiled, catlike.
A thin gold chain appeared in his fingers. On one end of the chain was a stylized cat's face in burnished silver, with one emerald eye and one sapphire eye. Thin streaks of white-gold radiated out from the face. There was no doubt whose face it was, for this village believed. He fixed the chain around her too-thin neck and smiled. The catch disappeared, leaving the chain too short to remove over her head, and no one here would dare to try and take it by force. Then, Jareth spoke in the language of cats, blessing the child and running his hand through her dark hair. Several thin streaks of white appeared around her face, further marking her as his. She listened in her sleep, the words speaking to her heart, bypassing her mind entirely.
"You will heal, my dear, and in time you will be able to bear a child again. Return to your family. Take the kitten with you, a symbol of your innocence and kindness. I have marked you with necklace and my sign, the white in your lovely hair." He kissed her eyes. "Your family's fortunes will improve with your return, though not so much that they lose the sense of gratitude for your love and sacrifice."
He looked around the room. It was dingy, not filthy, but not clean as it should have been-had been-before the girl had suffered through childbirth at too young an age. He snarled at the way these children had been treated. He considered adding a few four-clawed scars to the late-husband's family, but decided on a subtler message.
"A little message for your late husband's family, I think," he murmured, eyes flashing green in the night. With a wave of his hands, pawprints appeared in the dust and dirt, too large for any ordinary cat to make.
"Take care of her," he charged the kitten. The kitten replied to his prince in the way of cats. He winked.
With that last command, Jareth slid out of the window and into the night, leaving the footprints of a large cat under the window and a few dark hairs on the frame of her windowsill.
Jareth returned to his office, still wearing the guise of the Prince of Cats, and purring with satisfaction. Karen stared at him as he slid into his chair and smiled, sharp fangs glinting in the low light. This was…amazing. He was Jareth, through and through, but…more. Darker. More feral. She felt a tremor of fear run through her, from her magic to her toes.
Jareth felt it, too. He smiled. And remained exactly as he was.
Oakheart accepted everything as it was and summoned their trays to the study. The Prince of Cats nodded to Karen to break bread. With shaking hands, she did so.
Jareth laughed and talked through the meal, Karen slowly falling prey to the latent sensuality of the Prince of Cats, something no one, no matter the species or sex, could ignore for long. Satisfied that she would not easily dismiss him as King of Goblins again, something she was inclined to do because she had seen little else of his kingdom, he turned his thoughts to other things.
Like Couric. A slow, wicked smile accompanied thoughts of Couric's reaction to this persona. He purred at the various scenarios that played through his mind, knowing the reality would be much, much more fun, no matter how good or bad it would seem to others. Others did not concern the Prince of Cats. Just the cat. And the mouse.
Cat that he was, he would find out that very night what Couric thought. Not that his mouse would have much say in the matter.
Curiosity thrilled the cat.
In a tiny village on the other side of the world from Sarah's old home, a girl woke to find her child gone and a kitten in the very image of the Prince of Cats curled in her arms. She screamed.
The man's family came pouring into the room, ready to berate and beat her for her noisemaking-until they saw four things: the necklace at her throat, declaring she was protected by forces outside of their ken; the kitten with white-streaks on coal-black fur; the white streaks in her black hair; and the very large, very real catprints all around the room.
The girl was bundled off to her family the same day, the settlement her husband left to her in hand. It was enough to see that she wanted nothing for survival, and would even afford some luxuries.
Her parents welcomed her home, clasping her to them joyfully. Her baby brother was no longer ill, and her father had been able to find work. Between bride-price and her father's new job, they were not as destitute as once they had been. With her inheritance, they were a little bit wealthy, though they could not stop working hard. When she showed them the kitten and told them of waking to no child and just the kitten, and the couple nodded, knowingly.
They had been blessed by the Prince of Cats, who knew a worthy girl when he met one. They would strive to ensure he did not become disgusted with them, that he did not think them ungrateful for his generosity and protection.
As Jareth had promised, the family grew more fortunate in their daily lives, though they were not rich. The girl grew, was offered for many times, but refused all, the necklace at her throat making even the most spoiled, wealthy, and insistent wary of pressing too hard.
One day, her cat, her clever protector and constant companion, disappeared, leaving a kit that looked exactly like him behind. Three days later, a young man walked into the village.
With one look in his mismatched eyes, the girl accepted his suit, and lived a long life, filled with love and joy.
Every so often, she would see her husband lift his eyes to the east and wink at nothing. He was assuring the Prince of Cats he had taken his duties quite seriously.
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Shattered