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Perchance To...	By : Rhondda Category: G through L > Labyrinth Views: 5268 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Labyrinth or any of the characters seen in the movie. There is no money being made by this story

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"What have you done to my friends?" Sarah stood before Jareth, unimpressed by his theatrics.
"Ah, the traitors.” He didn’t bother to pretend he didn’t understand the question. “I exiled them. I was lenient, for your sake. They should have been hung at a crossroad to serve as warning to anyone else considering disloyalty," Jareth looked tolerantly bored. "Once again, I was generous."
"I don't want to get into your idea of generosity again. What do I have to do to get them back?" Sarah resigned herself to pleading, if she had to. After all, what was a little humiliation compared to the lives of her friends? Friends she had forgotten, she guiltily acknowledged.
Jareth's eyes raked over her, slowly, and Sarah felt herself shiver. He better not think...
"Nothing. You see, I don't know where they are. I don't care to know. I will not be surrounded by traitors," Jareth reached forward and touched a gray gloved finger to the edge of the rose behind Sarah's ear. She flinched, as much from her own sharply accelerated heart rate as from the move. He quickly drew his hand back. "Not even for you, precious."
Sarah fought back the urge to cry. She refused to appear weak before this man. Like a wolf, if he sensed weakness he would move in for the kill. She would deal with her friend's safety when she had more to go on.
"Why am I here, Jareth?" Her voice was soft and she looked away from him, preferring to stare at the cherry tree instead of his inhumanly beautiful countenance.
"Because you sought out my garden after damaging the hardware of my castle. I should make you replace those hinges," he sounded amused, but she still refused to look at him, preferring her silence speak for her.
He sighed. "Very well. I want you to join me for dinner, tonight. I find myself in the mood for company," he tugged at the sleeves of his leather jacket, the motion betraying some sense of discomfort.
Sarah turned toward her cold, angry eyes to him at last. "Then talk to a goblin. I don't feel like entertaining you."
"It wasn't a request," he bit out as he straightened, gathering himself as an invisible mantle of authority and magic seemed to settle over him. Here was the Goblin King both terrible and beautiful. Sarah had to force herself from taking a step back. "Col will fetch you when it's time." He moved as if to walk around the tree, however, he never came around the other side. Sarah followed his steps to find he had vanished once again.
It took a moment for Sarah to register that Jareth had called Colleen Col, a nickname denoting an amount of affection and familiarity she didn't think he was capable of bestowing on someone he considered a servant.
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Sarah nodded as Col gestured her into the room. Jareth's private dining room was spotless. Complex and colorful tapestries covered the walls, each depicting scenes either pastoral, such as prancing unicorns, or horrid, such as a bloody battle. She did a double take and detected subtle movement. The tapestry images were moving in very slow motion. The floor was adorned with a green and white rug bearing a maze design, it too, shifted and changed. A fire blazed in a marble fireplace even though Sarah couldn't see any wood or similar fuel at its base. Above the fireplace was a painting of the most exquisite woman Sarah had ever seen, golden curls glistening in the sun, blue eyes somehow both kind and cruel at once.
Jareth had been seated at a dinning table of polished wood, however; he stood as Sarah entered and looked over the room.
"More to your taste, I suppose?" He held his hand out to the seat opposite him, indicating that she should sit.
"It's lovely," she admitted honestly.
"The main areas are over run with goblins. Cleaning up after them is an exercise in futility. Only a choice few are permitted into my private wing. Most of them have learned which end of a mop goes to the floor and that urinating on the rugs is punishable by pain." He sat only after she had.
"I see," she felt suddenly sheepish. She had raged at him this afternoon without all the facts. But then, she reasoned to herself, he hadn't given her all the facts, either.
Col entered the room bearing a large silver tray laden with delicious smelling food. Without a word she set plates before Jareth and Sarah before pouring them each a glass of white wine into crystal goblets. Her duty done, she took her tray and left without a word, however she shot a chiding look at the Goblin King. He simply raised a brow at her as she left.
"So," Sarah poked at her salad, half afraid to discover something alive under the greens, "what truth do you hope I'll learn here that I couldn't learn in New York?"
"That would be cheating. The nature of truth is that most people don't believe it unless they discover it for themselves," he watched her over the rim of his ornately carved wine goblet.
"So you're not even going to tell me what I'm supposed to be looking for?" Detecting nothing overtly harmful she speared a tomato wedge.
Jareth tore off a piece of bread. Sarah noticed his hands were devoid of gloves for the first time since they met. It seemed strangely intimate. His fingers were long and graceful, the nails manicured.
"No. It's more interesting that way, don't you think?"
"For me or for you?" Sarah glared.
He answered with an insolent smile.
"You should try getting cable down here. It's much more entertaining and offers a greater variety. I have the feeling you’d love the Muppet Show." Sarah angrily lay into her chicken, hacking it up with particular viciousness.
"That's your opinion," he cut his own meal with cultured delicacy, once again pointing out the childishness of Sarah's actions.
She wanted to kill him.
"You need a hobby. Have you ever tried coin collecting, needlepoint, model ships in bottles?" Sarah's smile was saccharine sweet.
"No, but I did collect pressed fairies in my youth. They made interesting patterns when slammed between the pages of a book."
Sarah's jaw dropped. He was probably serious, too, the sadistic creep.
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Sarah made her way to her room in silence, contemplating the dinner conversation. Jareth had been annoyingly polite, as polite as he was likely to get. That alone was bothering her. Why was he doing this? For his own amusement? Of course he was, but to what end?
Stepping into her room Sarah was shocked to see Lady Saishoku seated on her bed. She was dressed in a form fitting dress of red silk, edged in gold knotwork. Her tails apparently had the night off, as there was no sign of them.
"Sai?" There was a wealth of questions held in Sarah's tone.
"Shh," Sai held up a finger. "Something is happening. If you want to learn, then nod once and come with me. You must promise to remain perfectly still and perfectly silent."
Sarah nodded once and found herself in a dark alcove overlooking the throne room. The sudden shifting of place was very disorientating and she held out a hand to brace herself against a wall. There was a stonework grate between her and the scene below. Ian was already there. She could make him out due to the light filtering in through the grate. He nodded to her, but remained silent, his boyish face completely serious. Lady Saishoku was nowhere to be seen. Sarah realized they were spying on whatever was going on below. The grate overlooked a throne room, more elaborate and, well, royal than the one she’d seen before.
A woman sat on a marble and gold throne with what appeared to be ebony carved drapery. It was the exact design of the granite one where Sarah had seen such a mess, but this was befitting a… a king. Or the woman who now perched primly upon it. She was exquisite. Her red-gold hair was thick and fell in heavy curls over her shoulders. A diamond circlet graced her brow and her dress seemed as if it were made of moonlight and mist. Sarah stifled a gasp. It was the woman whose portrait hung over the mantle in Jareth's dining room.
"The Queen," Sarah barely made out the breath of a whisper Ian placed in her ear.
She flushed. Queen? Jareth was married? She bit her lip, unsure why she should care and banishing the strange drop in her stomach.
Ten others flanked the Queen. Three appeared human, the others were inhuman in their beauty. Long limbed and fair with sharply pointed ears and large, luminous eyes - they were the epitome of the word fae. Their manner of dress was outrageous. Ruffles and frills, silks and lace, glitter and jewels, the designs the stuff of fairy tale dreams. It appeared each was intent on outdoing the other.
The only one that truly stood out was the man to the right of the Queen. Tall and slender, he wore black, from his thigh-high boots to his velvet doublet. The only ornament he had was an ivory horn edged in gold slung over his shoulder. All the black made his face seem pale. Sarah noted his blond hair was shorn very close to his head.
"He has to know you're here, your Majesty. I do believe he plans to insult you," the man leaned in to the Queen but did not bother to whisper. His crisp accent was very much like Jareth's.
"It's you who insult me, Gwyn. In my own castle, no less," Jareth's voice rang through the throne room as he appeared.
He was dressed formally. Much as he had been during a half remembered dance a lifetime ago, Sarah realized. Only now his jewel-encrusted jacket was green, not blue.
To Sarah's surprise he bowed before the woman seated on his throne, a courtly gesture that spoke volumes. Sarah would not have thought Jareth would bow to anyone. "I am, of course, my Lady's most humble servant."
The Queen laughed the sound ringing like the tinkling of crystal bells. "Jareth, I have never known anyone less humble than thee. Indeed, if thou spake truly of being mine servant thou wouldst not be HERE."
"Well, I'm yours to command, anyway." Jareth stepped forward to kiss the woman's hand, then her pale cheek.
"Very well. You are to attend me at this summer's Rade. I find myself missing your brand of wit and charm," though she smiled, Sarah could see the woman's eyes were cold and commanding. Next to her the man known as Gwyn snorted.
"I have certain responsibilities..." Jareth gestured to the throne room.
"Cancel them. I expect thee at Kincade Green on the morrow. Thou may, of course, bring what retinue thou wouldst. Thou art, after all, a King and will be given the respect of thine position." The woman's cold eyes fell on Gwyn, silencing the man before he could speak.
"I would be honored," Jareth bowed again, mocking her with the stiffness of the gesture.
"Of course thou art. We will see thee by evening tomorrow. Do not be late," she stood and those with her made bows of varying degrees to Jareth. In the blink of an eye all of them were gone.
"Saishoku, I know you are eavesdropping!" Jareth turned, but did not face the alcove where Sarah and Ian stood, frozen in a moment of panic.
Sai appeared from a side door and gave him a slight bow. "You wish to discuss your options? As I see it, you have none."
"Amusing. Why did she pick NOW to interrupt my life after fifty years of silence? " Jareth smacked a gloved fist into his palm.
"It chafes, does it not, uesama, to be the amusement of another?" Sai lifted a delicate eyebrow.
"Save the pointed remarks. We have much to do." Jareth produced a crystal and held it out to Sai. "Gather Sarah, Col and that husband of yours. You know what must be done."
Sai nodded. "Hai. And I know all of your reasons, only a few of which I agree with." She took the crystal and proceeded to spin and roll it as adeptly as Jareth, himself.
"Do it. Have Ian prepare the horses. I'll get a detachment to act as honor guard," Jareth spun on his heel and left the room.
Sai looked up to the hidden alcove. Sarah knew the Kitsune was looking at Ian through the stonework and dark.
"Come on, Sarah, we don't have much time." Ian took her arm and pulled her back, opening a door behind them.
"Time for what? I don't understand," Sarah followed him nonetheless.
"We have to get ready. We're attending a Rade," Ian's steps were brisk and purposeful.
"A raid? Of what? A village?" Sarah shook her head, stunned by all she had seen.
"A Rade, a processional through all the Fae kingdoms. The Queen gave the order and Jareth must obey. Though he's bound to be a JOY to live with for the next few weeks," Ian rolled his eyes.
"Oh," Sarah still felt shell-shocked. "I didn't know he was married."
"Who?" Ian had led her to her own room.
"The King," she made a meaningless gesture.
Ian laughed. "He isn't, silly. That was his MOTHER," Ian took off down the hallway, leaving Sarah standing, stunned, in the doorway of her room.
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uesama - My Lord
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