Summary: Jareth gets a reality check.
Disclaimer: I do not own Labyrinth; the premise and characters belong to Jim Henson's estate and some movie studio/s. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Author's Note: Inspired by the 10/3/04 word #75 on the 15minuteficlets livejournal community. And also because, while I enjoy a good romance as much as the next person, sometimes all that star-crossed undying love is just too silly for words.
"It isn't fair."
Jareth, king of the goblins and master of the Labyrinth, was in the middle of a massive sulking fit. His castle steward, an old, wrinkled goblin, watched warily as the king paced before his throne; normally he was a benign, if condescending, monarch, but Jareth in a snit was even more unpredictable than usual.
"It's always the same. People wish away idiots and bastards, and I have to enchant them into something vaguely useful. People wish away babies and I have to take care of the little brats."
Actually, thought the steward, you don't. We have to bathe them, feed them, and keep them entertained.
Jareth kicked his throne. "Then they feel bad and try to win everyone back-- except they fall into the Bog of Eternal Stench, or they get themselves killed, or they get trapped in a dream-- and I have to deal with it! Even if they get through, they always think it's my fault! It isn't my fault they were selfish idiots and made a wish!"
They might not dislike you so much if you didn't act like such a gleeful evil bastard while you run them through the challenges, the steward carefully didn't say.
Jareth sank back into his throne, propped his head on his arm, and sighed. "Sara... I would have been your slave..."
"Ahh, perhaps it's for the best, your majesty," the steward ventured.
"What? How?" Jareth glared.
The steward ducked and bowed nearly to the floor. "The girl was, ahh, young, your majesty. You would be waiting even if she'd remained."
Jareth blinked, and then a thunderous frown darkened his face as crystal globes swirled into the air and the castle trembled. "You dare? You dare? Out, out, out!"
The steward wisely scurried through the massive throne room doors and let them slam shut as he hurried along the corridor. When no explosions followed his retreat and nothing seemed to be shattering behind him, he sidled back and peered through the crack between the doors.
Jareth was once again pacing before his throne.
"It isn't fair!"
A.N.: Please review! I love any and all responses, but I'm particuarly interested in knowing what worked for you, what didn't, and why. That helps me make future stories better for you.:-)