Jareth's Story - starter

“Labyrinth:  The Goblin King
Jareth’s Story”

Epologue

I watched her run.  I watched her cry out for the child.  I lead him away.  I turned that staircase over, inverted that doorway, twisted that path.  I watched her run.  Her, the girl I loved, as she ran after the child, the son I craved.

She was so beautiful.  So smart and clever.  So painfully, perfectly, horribly, wonderfully amazing.  I had followed her, tricked her, lured her, courted her, and waited for her.  Why would she not succumb?  I am the Goblin King!  I have the most power in my realm!  How is this girl – this beautiful, lovely, horrible girl – defying my powers?

It was all I could do to keep the inner labyrinth from leading her too far away.  And she was running right in front of me!  How can a man concentrate when she is right there, running, being so cruelly beautiful?!

And that, those few moments of distraction, was all it took.  Suddenly she was so close to the boy, just a few feet of empty space separated them!  I cursed the labyrinth, cursed my self, under my breath and tried to keep from panicking.  If she reached that boy everything would be lost – everything!  I have to keep her away from the boy!  I commanded the labyrinth change; pull the boy away from her reach, and of course it obeyed.

And then she jumped.

And fell.

And fell.

And fell.



End of Childhood

Father was so tall…and big…and scary.  So dark and quick to anger.  So frightful, everyone seemed afraid of him one way or another.  He loved me, though.  I knew that, but he was still scary.  But mother, she was gorgeous.  So pretty and lovely, soft and kind.  Everyone adored her.

No one loved her more than father, though – no one.  I heard people call them the night and day, night shade and rose, ice and fire, and other silly things like that but I never could figure out why.  I asked my nurse-maid, the oldest prune of a goblina (female goblin) you will ever see, about the names once.  She told me that my mother and father were so different from each other, but so in love, that people called them those things kind of as a joke.  I didn’t like that.

“Momma and Father are no joke!  Subjects should not go teasing and making fun of their rulers.  Father will punish them for their meanness!”  I pouted.

She just smiled and laughed, “It’s good natured, and yer father knows the names they gives him and his wife.  It’s ‘cause they’re so different from one another.  Yer father is the Goblin King, he ‘as much power, and he’s a very dark man on the inside even though he’s so fair on the outside.  Yer mother came from…a simple town, she ‘as only as much power as your father gives her, and she’s a kind, light hearted woman though she’s darker.  They’re so different from each other, and yet so in luv, that they’re compared to things like the night and the day.  Night and day are completely different, but do ya ever see one not immediately followed by the other?”

It was a riddle, I was sure of it.  Nanna was always giving me riddles.  I thought for a moment, trying to figure out how Momma and Father were like night and day.  Father always wore dark clothes, so maybe that’s what Nanna meant.  But Momma wore whatever she wanted, it wasn’t always the same.  Father was so pale, maybe he was like “pale moon light”.  But sunlight was golden, and Momma had brown hair.  Every one said that I looked like my father, which made me sad.  Momma was so beautiful; I wanted to have her rich dark hair, her warm eyes, and her rosy skin.  Instead I seemed to have Father’s cold blue/grey eyes, his thin hair (although mine was almost yellow where his was almost white), and his pale white/grey skin.  Besides all that, you never saw Momma and Father apart, and you never saw day and night at the same time.  Nanna must be even older than I thought, to get them so mixed up.

“Nanna, that’s impossible.  You’re just an old goblina – what would you know about love anyway?”  I was still pouting.

Nanna smiled her yellow, crooked smile at me and gave me a knowing wink, “Yer old Nanna was once in love ‘erself, ya know.”  I tried to imagine her giving someone the same look my Mother gave my Father.  It failed miserably and I had to stop myself from making a face.  I must have failed in that, too, because she just laughed, “You don’ believe yer old Nanna, do ya?  Don’ you know I’m always right?”  She cackled again, waving her grimy finger at me.

I didn’t bother to ask her where her wonderful beau was now.  I’d made that mistake before.  All it ever got me was a long, mushy, and not very interesting story that always ended in her sighing a lot and going on and on about how wonderful he was.  Usually I would only ever ask her to tell that story if I wanted to fall asleep quickly.  I could never beat her at this game, so I just gave a big sigh and stared dejectedly out the window.

“Tell me a story, Nanna.  A good one.  No mushy stuff, no hansom goblins, no silly heros.”  I whined.  She tsk’d me for criticizing her love story, but I didn’t care.  I just wanted to keep her busy while I thought to myself some more about how Momma and Father could possibly be like night and day.  Maybe Momma was like night because of her dark hair, and Father day because of his light hair…
But I was distracted when she suddenly stopped fussing about and said, “Oh, Master Rethaf.  I was just about to be tellin’ the child a story.”  My father is here?  Father is here!  I fought against the small panic rising in my chest as I turned away from the window.

He strode across the room to me and picked me up in his arms, “Jareth, my son – have you forgotten the day?”

I was puzzled.  Today?  Why, what happens today?  What have I forgotten?  Father hates it when I forget things!  What day is it?  “Um, you mean Thursday?”

Father laughed.  It always gave me goose-bumps when he laughed.  It wasn’t that he had a creepy laugh, or an unpleasant one.  Mostly, it was simply because he only did it once.  No matter how funny he thought something was, he never laughed more than once; just one bark of a laugh.  But, I had heard – or thought I heard – him laugh twice, very softly once when he was with Momma.  I wasn’t sure at first, but it scared me so badly that I was sure that it must have been two.

He waited patiently while I thought, then I remembered what day it was, “I mean Friday, Father!”

This time he just smiled warmly at me; it gave me shivers.  “Jareth, my dear son, today is February 31st, and your eleventh birthday.”  He let it sink in until he saw the smile tentatively break across my face.  “Your mother and I have a special gift for you today.  You’re almost a man, now, and we want only the best for our little boy.”  As he said this he carried me to my special tower.  Our castle has many turrets and towers, but this one faced north, for good luck, and was my tower.  My room was at the top of it.

I wondered what they had gotten me for my special birthday.  Gobin children become goblin boys at the age of eleven, and goblin men at seventeen.  Children were just that – children who needed to be taken care of and taught and played with.  Boys began taking on the roles they would have later as men – taking up family matters, learning a trade, becoming fighters, and learning all the other skills they will need.  As a man, the goblin is considered completely grown and is put out on his own – to find a wife, family, job, and home for himself.  In the back of my mind I worried a little over if Father would do the same and kick me out of the home at seventeen; I hoped not.

But that was far overshadowed by the game of guessing what my present was to be.  Could it be a guillotine just the size for chickens?  Or a catapult to throw rocks at the cows?  Maybe I would get my own soldiers to play war with!  
I was so consumed with the guessing game that I barely noticed when we arrived in my room.  Momma was sitting on my bed and gave us a glowing smile as we entered.  She rose and came to us, giving Father a kiss on the cheek, “Is our little boy ready for his gift, Rethaf?” she asked softly, wrapping her arms around us both.

“Yes, Rachell.  Please get it for him.” Father answered, even softer than Momma’s question had been.  Momma nodded, smiled at me, and then left to get my present.  

I wanted out of Father’s arms; I wasn’t accustomed to being around him so much.  Normally he left me alone, unless he needed me for something or wanted to show me off.  Which was fine with me; he scared me.  I wiggled a little, leaning away from his chest, and he took me to the bed and sat me down next to him.  Well, it was better than having him hold me, at least now I could fiddle with things and ignore him a little.  I could feel his icy eyes watch me fiddle with a loose thread on my sleeve as I pretended to be engrossed with it.

“Jareth, what your mother and I are giving you is something very special and important.”  Oh, great.  Happy birthday, Jareth!  Here’s your present – it’s a lecture!  I screamed sarcastically in my head.  I suppose something must have shown on my face, though, because he turned me so that I had to look at him.  “My son, you are the Goblin Prince, now.  What I am going to give you will help you become a man – become the Goblin King!  You’d like to be King, wouldn’t you?”  He gave me a look that only half expected me to answer.  When I only looked away he continued, “Jareth, what I give you today will guide you through your life from here on.  Promise me you will accept it.”

I felt the pull in his eyes, felt the guilt that not accepting his present would bring and I nodded, “Yes, Father.  I will accept your gift to me.”  This wasn’t sounding very fun.  Maybe Father was giving me something extra, and Momma was getting my real present.  Yes, that had to be it.  Father was giving me something boring, but he and Momma together had gotten me something really fun to play with.
Momma came back then with only a small present in her hands.  It was wrapped nicely enough, but it was so small…Maybe it was just one part of the present.  Or a clue.  And I would get a new clue every time I solved the old one!  This would be fun!  This book would have a riddle in it that I had to solve, which would lead me to the next clue, which would be some sort of puzzle, and then there’d be an obstacle course, and then one last riddle!  I was properly excited now, and waited for the small package with greedy eyes.  Momma came and sat on the other side of me, putting her arm over my shoulder while giving Father one of their shared looks that I suppose is love.

“Jareth, this present is from your father – but we have more for you later.  Please treat it nicely, and take good care of it.  You may want to pass it on to your son someday…”  Momma said, and then she handed me the small package.  It was definitely a book.  I wasn’t disappointed, though, because the riddle inside it would tell me where to go next.  I took a moment to imagine, then tore the wrapping paper off.  I paused, once I had finished ripping the paper to shreds, because it wasn’t like any book I’d seen.  It had a bright red leather cover that had an intricate design in it, but instead of having something hard inside it like most books the leather was left soft and flexible.  It was titled LABYRINTH in big, blocky font.  There was a small clasp and leather strip to keep the book shut.  I examined it for a moment then went to open the clasp to look through the pages, but Father put his hand over mine, stopping me from proceeding.  I looked up, in to his icy cold eyes, with what I hoped was a pained expression.  I wanted to know what the riddle was so I could solve it.

Father just shook his head silently at me.  To Momma he said, “Rachell…”  Momma smiled again, “I’ll leave you two to talk.  I’ve got some cleaning to do.”  She kissed my forehead and excused herself from the room, closing the door softly behind her.

I felt very awkward being with alone my father.  I had that feeling you get when you’re about to be lectured about something you don’t really care about.  I looked around the room for a distraction, but all I wanted was to do was to open the book, and Father’s hand was keeping my hands frozen in their place.  I gazed at that hand, really at the book beneath it, for a moment before venturing a glance at Father.  He was also looking at the book, and after a moment he met my gaze.

“Do you know what this book is, my son?” he asked quietly.

I was still hopeful that my real present was coming, “A…a riddle?” I asked hesitantly, my voice cracking a little.  He smiled; I felt numb.  He took my hands away from the book, lifting it so I could look at both it and him at the same time.

“This book is our legacy, Jareth.  The Goblin Kings of old created this book to help guide future kings.  There is magic buried deep in this book that will tell you everything you will ever need to know.  Your greatest challenges, dangers, weaknesses, and pitfalls are outlined in this book.  Think of it as your own fortune teller, or book of proverb.  Open it and you will begin your ascension into manhood…and to the throne.”  He looked at me, waiting to see if I understood.  

I didn’t, of course.  I’ve only just become a boy, and now you want me to become a man?  What if I don’t want to become King?  I gave him a look that I hoped conveyed these feelings, or at least made it obvious that I didn’t understand.

Father sighed a big, disappointed sigh, “Jareth:  You are no longer just my son.  You are now my heir.  You are the Goblin Prince.  There is no place for childish desires and simply agreeing and speaking when spoken to.”  He smiled, this time it seemed mischievous, and produced one of his special crystals.  He weaved it in and out of his fingers, around his hands, up his arms; it was mesmerizing, and I was startled when it stopped, held in his fingers, just inches from my nose.

I gave him a quizzical look, “What…what is it?”  I knew what it was, of course.  It was a spell.  For now, anyway.  It could burst or turn into anything Father wished if he decided he did not need it…or if I displeased him enough.

Father laughed, sending a shiver up my spine, “It’s my gift – for you.  It will bring out the true you, it will help make your dreams come true.”  He was weaving the crystal around again, and I was lost in the sight and sound of his voice.  “I will give you what you want, I will help you.  Take this gift, and agree to become my heir.  I will be so proud of you.  I know you will make a fine prince, and a fine king.  Your mother will be so happy.”

I wanted to touch it, to hold it, to make that crystal dance forever.  I reached out for it, carefully.

“Will you accept my gifts?”  Father asked, weaving the crystal back and forth.

“I will accept your gifts.”  I leaned closer, my hand reaching out.

“Will you agree to be my heir, to be the Goblin Prince?”  The crystal seemed to move impossibly slow between his hands.

“I will be your heir, I will be the prince.”  The crystal froze in the air, just in front of me.  I held my breath, waiting for it to fall and shatter or to float and burst.  It hung there, frozen, impossibly still.

My father whispered in my ear, “Then take it.”

I paused for half a breath then reached out and gently plucked the crystal from the air.  It became a peach in my hands; the most perfect peach I had ever seen, perfectly smooth and soft and ripe and colorful.  My mouth watered, my fingers tingled, my eyes saw only the peach.

I vaguely heard my father’s voice say, “Go a head.  Eat it.  It’s yours.”

I almost couldn’t bite it.  So perfect, so soft, and the smell!  It was ecstasy, perfection – how could I ruin it with a bite??  But my mouth watered and I could no longer resist – I bit in deep.  I could feel a little juice dribble down my chin, but that was a minor inconvenience.  The flavor was so amazing that I forgot everything else.  I savored it for a moment, and thought I heard my father leave the room.  The peach was so good, so soft, so juicy, so exotic…

I wanted more.

The second bite was just as good as the first.  This time I made sure not to let any juice escape down my chin with a slurp.  Oh, the texture!  Like nothing I had ever eaten before.  I realized, in the back of my mind, that this was the first time I had ever had a peach.  Other fruits, yes – I used to like lemons and oranges a lot, but they paled in comparison.  Never liked apples, even though mother adored them.  Father, too.  But this peach was my favorite…

I wanted more.

I wanted still more.

More.

I vaguely remember finishing the peach, even sucking the pit clean.  I recalled that the pit was funny looking, and that it didn’t look quite the same each time I looked at it.  Like it was becoming smoother and lighter in color.  But then I must have fallen asleep, because suddenly I was awake and a brand new boy.

I woke no longer a child, I woke as a Boy.  No longer just the King’s son…

I woke as Goblin Prince Jareth.