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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.

Chapter List
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Wearing basic black leathers, Jareth floated in the Void above the Bridge and watched the Triumvirate work, mending the frayed and dangling threads of magic from their very flesh. They pulled glowing tendrils from their claws, spinning the foundation anew then skittering forward like giant insects to repeat the action. Following behind the three, Jareth started with the core of the Improbable Room, re-anchoring it to the new cords and cables of the growing Bridge with his magic imbued to him as Goblin King and Keeper of the Bridge. Each anchor started with a crystal which he melded into the healthy threads, stretched outwards and melded to the next crystal, again and again extending from the his castle, into the Void and towards the Veil where the Aboveground waited on the opposite side.
Exhausting work, Jareth refused to think of how long before they reached the end of the Bridge, and stabilized it to the Aboveground Nexus. Every moment the Bridge drifted damaged through the Void was another moment it might collapse; he had no time for rest. He would give his last if it meant the security of both worlds. As for Hoggle and the rest of the traitors, he assumed them trapped in the Aboveground, lost to their essential magic until he finished his task.
As much as I wish to punish them, they don't deserve such a fate, wasting away as if suffocating. Though perhaps I can spare them if the Triumvirate reach the Aboveground in time.
And if not...
And why wouldn't the Triumvirate be able to? After such a large Blood Sacrifice they'd better finish this quickly or I'll yank each scale out personally!
Keeping his distance behind the beasts crawling over the scintillating fibers, Jareth worked quickly, his bare hands touching raw magic, melding it then conjuring more. Eventually his thoughts floated from what-if's and narrowed only to the job in front of him. Without gloves, his hands blistered and swelled from the intense and unrelenting magic use; staring at the unwavering glow made his eyes water and itch and crawling cramped his back. His knees ached and muscles spasmed, but Jareth kept moving, kept working: conjure, meld, stretch, crawl, conjure, meld, stretch, crawl.
His essence as Goblin King and Keeper of the Bridge was the identical to the Underground, and attaching one to the other-using himself as intermediary- made the repairs permanent. As permanent as before at least, he mused. During his work he did his best to keep on guard from the Triumvirate, making already fatiguing work doubling exhausting. He didn't trust them, however, and being alone with them in the Void gave them far too many opportunities for ill deeds.
"We are done." A voice said, snapping him from his stupor. Rocking back on his heels, the glowing magic fuzzing his vision, Jareth looked up at the Triumvirate ranged in a horse-shoe around him. When had they approached so closely without his knowing? Frowning, he pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to clear a sudden, stabbing pain in the center of his forehead. The skin on his palm itched and burned as it crinkled. Looking past the creatures, he saw they neared the end of the Bridge-had they worked so far?-but a gap remained.
"What do you mean 'done'? I can see it's not complete." He pointed to the stump of his neatly organized work leading to the dark gap of nothingness, and the snarl of tattered lines glimmering on the far side: the Nexus leading into the Aboveground. The three creatures laughed: hissing, wheezing sounds plucking his sensitized nerves. Their bulbous eyes were unblinking and their tongues slithered over their dagger-teeth.
"We did not ssay it iss done," the leader said. "That is your job for we cannot go Aboveground."
"What do you mean?" Jareth stood, his muscles protesting the change after so long. Wary, he backed from the reptilian creatures. He most certainly did not like the sound of this. "You said nothing of me going Aboveground." The leader moved a pace closer, its hoof agitating the new magic, creating whorls and sparks. Its grin widened until Jareth thought he might be contemplating devouring him.
"Did we not explain thiss part, Goblin King?" It sounded sarcastic to Jareth.
"We cannot touch the Nexuss," the second creature said, head cocking, hissing louder.
"Only a fae may interact directly with the magic of the Nexuss," the third and farthest back said, closing in with its brethren. Steadily, the Triumvirate surrounded him on the narrow foundation of the Bridge. Drained to the limit, Jareth's attempt to levitate or transform failed, trapping him between the three beasts. Panic truly set in once he realized his powerlessness. Partially crouched, center of gravity lowered, he tried to fend off their approach.
"What are you doing?" His voice rose in pitch as his adrenaline kicked in, but having used too much magic, his power stayed unaffected. Unable to free himself, the Triumvirate captured and reined him in. Their combined physical strength overwhelming his weakened state, even without their currently superior magic. Glowing threads flew from their claws, winding around him, binding him faster than two of his shocked gasps. Twisting and struggling, Jareth hung in mid-air as the Triumvirate tightened the net.
"Unbind me!" he said, long hair flying wildly.
"The Goblin King iss Keeper of the Bridge..."
"It iss he who must find the new Nexuss..."
"...reesstablish the connection..."
"...repair it..."
"...rebuild it..."
"Unhand me!" he shouted as they grappled him down to the glowing foundations of the Bridge. Bound and helpless, he was easily subdued face down into the sticky threads of magic, sparkling rivulets clung to his hair and stung his eyes as the Triumvirate mashed him into the threads. He felt it crawl into his mouth, seeking out its original source, and choke off his vocal cords. If only he could reabsorb the magic, re-meld it to his needs and free himself. Rage flared hot as he bore the humiliation of being held prone while the three beasts continued speaking; he hardly heard their words.
"You will need certain toolss to asssist you." They each spoke in turn as Jareth felt them manhandle him, poking and prodding his clothing. He swore to the gods he would roast these creatures alive his first chance.
"We will provide them..."
"...be without your greater magics ..."
"...will ssuffer and die without the Bridge..."
"Time will pass wrong until the connection is remade ..."
"...hurry..."
"Find the new Nexus...
"Finish the connection, and all will be sset to rights..."
"The Bridge made anew."
"Underground and Aboveground as one..."
"Hurry, Goblin King...hurry..."
Struggling, Jareth kicked and flailed unsuccessfully, their claws and the sticky magic holding him down until he felt a sudden weightlessness. They're picking me up! Before he could process the ramifications, the Triumvirate lifted him from the new foundation of the partially completed Bridge and, as one, flung him over the cliff edge towards the ragged, sparking mess of Aboveground Nexus. Tumbling over the open, bottomless gap in the Void, bound and gagged by the strands of magic, he was denied cursing the beasts tossing him away as if refuse. Head over feet, unable to wiggle free, he spun towards the destroyed Aboveground end of the Bridge. Without enough magic, his fate was as far from his control as his trajectory.
Good gods, what have I done? He thought frantically, fighting to regain any physical control, seeing the mangled glowing tree-like roots of Nexus looming closer. If he parted through the Veil into the Aboveground without the repaired Bridge in place, he would be trapped like the traitors! Jenea, Alare, forgive my arrogance. He sent out through the Ether, begging the gods to spare his siblings the destiny he failed to avert. What would happen to him, to them? He schooled his fear while he drifted into the damaged tendrils, felt the Nexus tugging at his fae magic, stripping it from his soul. Frightened beyond rationality, and alone, Jareth regressed to his childhood, before Alare's birth-a time when he and Jenea hid in the forest from Hunters.
Separated from their parents during an ambush by a neighboring kingdom intent on conquest, he and Jenea ran for hours from the enemy king's Hunters. They ran until they exhausted their magic then hid, bundled together in an outcropping overnight, until the Hunters found them at dawn. Shivering and sobbing, they fought back to back, killing several with their royal daggers but were ultimately overpowered. In the midst of their kidnapping, their father's Hunters arrived and slaughtered the enemy soldiers, their blood drenching the forest floor. It was the first time Jareth ever experienced a loss of his magic through exhaustion, and until the Triumvirate, he specifically planned his life to never feel such helplessness again.
Not again, please gods, not again! He sobbed, once again that frightened boy. Minutes became hours as he spiraled down through the twisted end of the ruined Nexus. Tears drying to his skin, he shoved his emotions and memories away; instead observing and sensing the Nexus magic up close. At this proximity, he understood it couldn't be used again, spoiled beyond repair, the beasts were correct. A new Nexus needed to be found and formed.
And what had they said? He dug out his piece-mealed thoughts during their betrayal. How was he to find the new one and reestablish the Bridge? He knew nothing of locating a Nexus. That was magic for the Ancients, the Triumvirate, yet they left it to him? Other bits of what they said came to him, made him shiver.
How long could a fae without magic live in Aboveground? What would this new world look like, be like? Whatever it contained it wouldn't be fae friendly, of that Jareth was positive. He only hoped he might be able to locate this Nexus in a timely manner, make the final repairs to the Bridge and return home quickly, for he already felt the strain on his psyche. Drifting powerless through the Veil, he felt it roughly part for him in a primitive manner. Without magic, his body forced its way through, bruising it, and he jerked into the Aboveground and fell as gravity found him. He fell until he forgot anything but falling existed.
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Falling --COMPLETED