AN: I came upon this idea while looking at artwork themed (obviously) by Roman and Greek mythology. While it is a variation of the tale of Cupid and Psyche, it will be tailored to fit into the Labyrinth universe, so certain aspects will change. I hope you enjoy the first installment.
Disclaimer: Labyrinth is the intellectual property of the Jim Henson Company.
Of Cupid and Psyche
The Underground is a vast realm, the darker, more dangerous relative of the Above. Within the realm are many different areas of rule, many kingdoms, living separate yet in a strange harmony. Kings and queens were not necessarily one of the race they ruled. Once such kingdom was that of the Goblins.
Jareth had been a favorite for several kingships, however, he chose to rule the creatures which he found the most fun. He chose to rule the Goblin Kingdom, much to the general excitement and support of those strange little creatures. Jareth was fun, mischievous, and very young. It was deemed a perfect fit. It was the day he went off to that far off realm that was the last time Lady Morgaine saw her beloved son.
Until this day.
The cry had shaken the very earth, coming from that far off kingdom. It was so intense, so pained that it caused a lament to be begun across the land. Many feared that the gods were turning against them, however Lady Morgaine, a wise woman and witch, told them it was simply her son's pain. They had nothing to fear.
She, however, was deeply troubled. Her son, while spoiled as a child and prone to temper tantrums and little thunder fits, had never expressed this deep grief, this manner of pain. Also, taking the responsibilities of the Goblin King when the former king had finally passed on had mellowed the boy she remembered.
Since the child was born, she'd always had a deep connection to him, her youngest son, more so than even among her other children. He was a spirit twin, incredibly similar to herself. Often they could feel the other's distress, and he'd arrived shortly after his father had died to comfort her. There had been rumors following that, insinuations that she would have liked to take her own son as her husband now that she was free of the man.
She cared not about the rumors. People would do as they always had and say what they thought, true or not. He was, after all, a lovely man and in her own mind, should have been married twice over and have a brood of his own children kicking goblins around the castle. Yet time passed, and while he never lacked for company in his bed, he'd held back on choosing a permanent mate. No woman had ever caused such emotional distress.
Yet, that very evening, waves began rolling over her from the Goblin Kingdom. Emotional turmoil, bright hope churned with confusion. Eventually they became a powerful emotion she could not identify. It drew her from her work to stare across the realm in the direction of her son's realm. Then, thirteen hours later, a tidal wave of hurt and pain crested and fear gripped her suddenly.
She'd called her palanquin to take her to the Goblin Kingdom immediately. The ride was filled with fear and worry, because after that first huge wave, many more had followed. It would be her first visit to the kingdom in her considerably long life. She hated the disgusting little creatures, always had. It was the one point she and her son disagreed upon, as he was unfortunately very empathic with them. He'd willingly given up several offers at courts closer to her side to take the place of the former king.
Upon arrival, she found her son slumped in his odd throne, a bottle of expensive scotch whiskey dangling from his hand, looking like he was dying from a slow bleeding soul wound. Her best guess said he was more than half-way through that bottle when she'd arrived, kicking his goblin servants out of her way in her haste to reach
her son's side.
Gently, she eased him up, guiding him to his bedroom, laying him upon his bed and sitting at his bedside, stroking his downy soft hair. He'd not spoken as she did, just laying there, looking lost and miserable. He still clutched the bottle of whiskey, periodically taking long drinks from it. It was obvious her presence was not soothing him.
"Jareth, my dear son, tell me what has happened," she asked softy, gently combing his fine strands of platinum hair with her gloved fingers. Her boy did not respond, simply looking away. "It is not like you to be so despondent. Where is my dear boy who laughs and plays with his goblins? Where is my son who glued his nanny to her chair? What has happened to my happy, carefree, devil-may care little rascal?"
Finally, he rolled off the bed, moving away from her. He stood before the great window in his room, hands clasped at his back, not facing her. It was a position she'd often seen his father stand in while thinking. After a long moment, he spoke. "I have med a girl this very evening, with hair like mahogany silk and eyes of green fire." His voice remained low and quiet as he spoke.
She blinked, surprise whipping through her. Pain caused by a woman? This should be excellent news, he should not be grieving the meeting of a girl. "That is lovely my son. Which clan does she hail from?"
He was silent for a long moment, his lips in a deep frown. "She does not hail from a clan, mother," he said quietly.
Displeasure rippled through her. If she was not from a clan..."A commoner?" She couldn't hide the distaste in her voice.
His voice became cross, almost threatening. "There's nothing common about her," he said, his voice actually cold. Her eyes widened in surprise at the obvious defense of this girl. He glanced back at her, then returned that mis-matched gaze to the scenery beyond the window. "She was mortal. A runner..." His voice had dropped back to that quiet tone he'd used before.
Ah, perhaps he was saddened because the girl would have become a goblin. "Oh, my dear boy. Which goblin did she become? Might I meet her?" She tried to be sympathetic.
His hands fisted and he began pacing across the room restlessly. His face was a mask of calm, but his eyes were dark with pain. "She did not become a goblin." His lips became a grim line and he paced away from her, his hands still clenched into fists behind his back. "She conquered the Labyrinth. She...bested me."
Ah, now we're getting closer to the heart of the problem, Morgaine thought, dusting off her skirt as she stood, moving towards where he'd stopped near a book shelf. Her dear son's intense pride had been wounded. "It was bound to happen eventually, you had to know that. Before you were allowed to take this office, you had to conquer it yourself. Now, while it's a surprise that a mortal child would have the ability to do so in the required thirteen hours, there was always a chance it would happen." She saw shadows behind his eyes and set her hand comfortingly upon his shoulder.
He brushed her hand away. "You do not understand!" He snapped. "The boy...that boy was my heir, I've already named him so. And she..." His voice broke off as he began pacing. "She was defiant and stubborn and willful. She refused to give in, she fought into me with every breath she took. I gave her an enchanted peach-"
"Faerie food," she explained. "Jareth-"
"I pulled her into a dream, her dream pulled me in as well. A crystal ballroom, sensual and debauched, and she was innocent in a sugar spun dress." His frustrated movements stilled and he stood, staring into nothing. "Her eyes are so cruel. Beautiful, defiant, innocent green eyes...Those eyes make me want like I've never wanted anything else." He put a hand to up to hide his eyes.
"It was only a means to distract her until her time was gone. I took the opportunity to spell bind her, another moment and she would have been mine. She broke away from me, broke free. That dream which should have sealed her memories was broken and within an unheard of amount of time, she remembered everything. She was in time to make it to the castle, nearly had the child."
Morgaine watched his face twist with pain and he looked away. "Oh, Jareth..." She whispered.
"I offered her everything I had to offer. I...wanted her for myself. In those short hours, with a handful of face to face encounters, and no physical contact, I fell in love with her. And she..." His hand tightened against his temples and she saw anger, frustration, and that intense pain in his eyes. "She said I have no power over her."
Morgaine felt intense fury rip through her. It had a calming effect. It gave her the ability to think, to see, without her worry for her son blinding her. "What...is her name?"
He lifted the bottle to his lips, hesitating at her question. The bottle slowly dropped away and he set it on the vanity table. He turned the bottle, staring down into the warm, amber liquid. "Sarah," he said quietly. "Her name was Sarah..." He lifted his gaze, then lowered his gaze once again. "If you would not mind, mother, I would like some privacy. I do not enjoy licking my wounds in the presence of others..."
"Of course, Jareth." She walked towards the door, her expression unreadable. She'd had thousands of years to learn how to hide her emotions. It was a skill she'd perfected. Silently, she closed the door behind her, still feeling the pain rolling over her, but dull, more muted. She walked briskly towards the queen's suites, rooms she'd knew were usually kept for her during her visits, but as she reached for the door, she felt a repulsion spell and her jaw sagged.
A goblin peeked around a pillar at her. "Kinga said you could stay in the guest suite, it's already made up for you. Queenie suites in...bad shape."
She gestured for the creature to come down. "Very well. You may guide me."
It gave her a look of annoyance, but did as she requested. She opened the door, finding it was admirably furnished, but not near as lush as she knew the queen's suites were. They were the largest suite in the building after her son's, and he'd always said she was free to use them. This was all that mortal chit's fault. Her son's pain and no doubt, the mess in the queen's suite.
How could he...offer himself to such a creature. Ugh, it was disgusting. She'd tried not to show her revulsion that her beautiful son had offered to mate and bond with a mortal. With a scowl, she called a mirror and stared into it. "Show me this...Sarah." She commanded.
A beautiful girl sat against a tree in an unnamed park, a babe in her lap. The babe had blond hair and, to her surprise, Jareth's eyes. "I see what you see in the boy, my son. He looks as you did when you were a tyke. But this...mortal wench..." She skimmed over the girl. She supposed she was lovely, but even among mortals, there'd been lovelier creatures.
The girl swept her hair over her ear, speaking softly into the boy's ear. She held a red leather bound book in her hands, obviously reading the boy a story. After a moment she paused and reached up, brushing a tear from her eyes, setting the book aside and tightening her arms around the boy.
Then, as if she knew she were being watched, her head turned and she looked directly at her.
Morgaine cried out, shocked and dropped the mirror, which shattered upon the floor. She stared down at the broken glass, seeing only her reflection. Those eyes...were terrible. Green, cat-like things, full of defiance and innocence. That girl looked too knowing. Morgaine hated those eyes.
She waved a hand, healing the broken mirror and it reappeared in her hand, complete once again. "Mordred!" She called, angered. The man's face shimmered upon the glass and she stared down upon her nephew. "I am in need of a favor..." Her voice was cold and impersonal. "I want you to go to the Above and locate a girl by the name of Sarah with brown hair and green eyes. Find her...and give her this..." She displayed a crystal before the mirror and dropped it through the glass. "I don't care how you must do it, but see to it that she touches that crystal."
The man took the crystal, and pressed his opposite fist against his chest. "It will be done, Lady Morgaine." He said with the quiet calm that had always been his way. The mirror flickered and then went dark as the connection severed.
Morgaine sat upon a comfortable seat, staring out the window over the Labyrinth. Her expression quickly turned dark. This mortal girl thought she was permitted to spurn the affection of her son? She would teach the irritating little wench a thing or two. Upon that crystal, she'd placed a curse. It would steal her memory, it would steal her hateful eyes and when the curse realized there was no love inside the girl's heart, the heart would die. It would be a slow, painful death for the girl, and she would regret ever rejecting the lord of the Labyrinth.
She would make the wench pay for causing her son such pain.
AN: Again, I hope everyone enjoyed. If you did, or didn't, or even if you notice some grammatical errors, I'd love to know. Thanks for reading, and please review. Whether or not this is continued upon this site will depend upon it.