Through Deeper Darkness

Chapter 13—The Day of Wine and Roses

***This is my little tribute to the memory of David Bowie who will always be the Goblin King. May he reign forever.***

Take note that I've fudged the timeline on when Sarah's original journey occurred for various stylistic reasons. In this story, Sarah's original trip to the Labyrinth occurred at the beginning of summer in 1996, NOT 1986.

I own my original characters and the precise order I put my words down in. The world and characters of the Labyrinth film will sadly never belong to me. I just like to play in their sandbox. I make no money off of this. That said, if anyone owns a spare Jareth, I'm happy to give him a good home. I have references.

Author's Note: I'm glad to report that my mind has finally unblocked this story. For some time there, I simply lost the ability to write it. Another story was tugging at me angrily and my attempts to focus on this one only resulted in me writing countless pages of utterly awful, stilted garbage that promptly got deleted. I finally gave up and went to work on the other piece. Thankfully, after I allowed my mind to write what it wanted to for a while, it began growing more of this story as well. I apologize for the incredibly long wait.

JS*JS*JS*JS*JS*JS*JS*JS*JS

Sarah followed Marvok through the winding paths of the rose maze until they ended in a clearing dominated by a shimmering, stone wall. She would have assumed that the stone was slate, except for the fact that slate didn't, to the best of her knowledge, sparkle. Emerald vines creeped up the stone here and there and entirely hid the building's roof from her gaze. Heavy clusters of variegated purple blossoms dripped from the vines and fell across the top of the wall like scalloped edging. Apparently they have wisteria in the Nightmare Realm, Sarah mused. Or, more likely, something incredibly dangerous that looks uncannily like wisteria.

After a moment, Sarah noticed the symbol inlaid in silver filigree into the glistening, grey stone. It was reminiscent of the amulet that Jareth…That the Goblin King, she reminded herself…wore. She noted that the image was inverted, its twin horns pointed towards the sky. The difference felt important. "What is this meant to symbolize?" she asked as she tapped the swirling silver lines with one fingertip.

Marvok tilted his head, his ruby eyes fixed on the wall. "That is the mark of the Goblin Queen, the counterbalance to the King's mark."

Sarah smiled. For reasons that she couldn't understand, the information pleased her. It was right that the Queen would possess her own mark. The Queen was the King's equal after all. She should have her own symbol, her own power. It was unthinkable that things should be otherwise. Sarah froze as she realized the direction that her thoughts had taken. She shook her head, mentally chiding herself. There is no Goblin Queen. There never has been. Why do I care whether or not she has her own mark? It's not as though the relationship between Jar…between the King and his hypothetical, future Queen has anything to do with me. It is not, and never will be, my concern. In spite of her internal rebukes, she couldn't quite force herself to accept that.

Sarah turned her attention to her companion, hoping for a distraction from her muddled thoughts. He paid her no mind as he continued to stare at the design in front of him, his expression contemplative. "What should we do now?"

Marvok's gaze snapped towards her, quick as a striking viper. He blinked, shook his head, spun back towards the wall, his normally fluid movements reduced to a sharp, stuttering staccato. "I…" he shook his head again before continuing. His voice was soft and distant. "It would give you a great advantage if it could be survived. She would know if it was possible. It has never even been considered before, but perhaps…" His eyes met hers, their glow held an abnormal intensity as he studied her. He nodded as though reaching a decision. "There are those with whom I must speak. Nessos will accompany you in my absence." With those words, he stepped into a nearby pool of shadows and vanished.

Sarah trembled, her heart fluttering in her chest as though seeking escape. To the best of her knowledge, nothing bad had happened, but Marvok was agitated and that, in itself, was terrifying. Agitated was too close to distressed, and distressed was very nearly afraid, and she had trouble imagining anything that could frighten him. She didn't want to imagine it. Marvok was a murderous, predatory, ruthless nightmare. He didn't experience fear, he caused it. Tears welled up in her eyes as she stared blankly at the shadows he'd faded into.

"Oh, for fuck's sake. Calm down!" Strong hands gripped her shoulders and spun her to face their owner. Sarah blinked back her tears and buried her face against Nessos's chest. He sighed, his annoyance apparent, before wrapping his arms around her. "Marvok is clearly going to have to work on his communication skills," he grumbled.

Sarah couldn't calm down. She couldn't think past the images tumbling through her mind: Marvok in danger, injured, in pain. Nessos and Azu devastated by their loss, disgusted with what a weak, pathetic, little girl she was, by how she'd let their brother be hurt. My fault, she thought. It's all my fault. I can't do anything right. She broke down into raking sobs and would have fallen if Nessos hadn't caught her. His voice was distant, removed from the horrible images that filled her mind. "By fire and shadow, what the fuck is wrong, Sarah? Your thoughts are so disjointed, I can't even…" His voice trailed off. "Oh bloody hell. Of course. It's your first physical trip to Nightmare." She was only vaguely cognizant of him scooping her up like a child and carrying her away.

Later, Sarah would dimly recall being sat down on a thickly padded, velvety chair. She'd remember the feel of smooth crystal being pressed to her lips, the order to drink, the sharp flavor of sour cherries, currants, and strange dark spices—it tasted like magic as it passed over her tongue and burned her throat when she swallowed. The images slowed, stilled, faded. She was still a bit worried about Marvok's out-of-character behavior, but it wasn't unbearable. Why was I panicking? she wondered.

Sarah's eyes opened and found Nessos's face close to hers, his golden gaze locked with her own. He studied her for a moment and then gave a short, satisfied nod. "Well, at least that worked quickly. Why couldn't you just enter a state of blind rage or mind-numbing terror like a normal first-timer? Instead of whatever that was? I would have spotted rage or terror right off, but I have no experience in dealing with…" He waved a hand in a vague indication of her prior emotional state. "That."

Sarah shrugged gracelessly, her cheeks heating with embarrassment. "I…I don't even know what happened."

Nessos sighed as he pushed back a strand of long, ash-colored hair that had come lose from the messy bun sitting at the crown of head. "This is the first time that you've ever been to Nightmare in the flesh. All of your negative emotions will be amplified until you adapt to being here and, as you experienced, it can easily spiral out of control. It's nothing to be concerned about, just a minor annoyance."

Sarah considered this. "How many first-timers, as you called them, actually die during one of these spirals?"

His smile glinted like a knife edge. "Most of them. But no matter! I'm certainly not going to allow you to die during one. You may be a mentally unstable, part-shadow goblin, Sidhe changeling, but you're our mentally unstable, part-shadow goblin, Sidhe changeling. I've no idea where to get a replacement, so we'll just have to keep you."

Sarah broke into helpless giggles. "Thanks for that. I'm relieved to know that my rarity will keep me safe."

Nessos nodded solemnly. "As you should be. Rare things are always the most expensive after all." He turned his attention to a goblet and decanter that looked like it was made from faceted obsidian. Nessos poured half of a glass's worth of vermilion liquid into the goblet. She smelled cherries and currants, but no hint of spice—just smooth tartness. Sarah watched, transfixed, as Nessos raised his wrist to his lips and bit down, his sharp-edged teeth cutting through the skin with ease. Black blood dripped into the cup and filled the air with the smell of ozone and exotic spices. He eyed the mixture critically, swirling it in the glass, before holding it out to her. "Drink. One more glass should do it."

Sarah's gaped at him. "That's what you gave me before? I'm not going to drink your blood! I'm not a freaking vampire."

He smirked. "Oh, you're going to drink it. I don't care if I have to pin you down and shove my bloody wrist into your mouth. Don't make this harder than it needs to be."

The look in his eyes showed that he wasn't joking so she accepted the cup with numb fingers. She stared down into the oddly marbled red and black liquid. "But…why?"

"Because I'm not good at dealing with your emotions and the native magic in my blood is hastening your adaptation. So—drink up. You really should feel privileged. That much shadow goblin blood is worth a fortune in the Underground and you get it for free. You're a lucky girl."

Sarah reluctantly took a sip of the mixture. In truth, it would have been delicious if she hadn't known what was in it. "Shadow goblin blood is some sort of delicacy there? I was under the impression that it was poisonous."

Nessos's grin widened. "Oh it's very poisonous. The amount in your cup right now could kill half-a-dozen people. Nobles will pay a great deal for a potent poison that has no antidote. Especially one that can be easily slipped into spiced blackwine without anyone noticing."

Sarah took another drink. "Is being poisoned something that I'm going to worry about all the time when I go back?"

Nessos chuckled. "Not at all. You're drinking my blood with no problems. No lesser toxin will be a concern. Anyone who wants to assassinate you will have to resort to a more hands-on method."

Sarah gave him a weak smile. "Good to know." In need of something else to focus on, she glanced around the room. She was sitting in a wingback chair that was covered in plush, emerald velvet. An identical chair sat across from her and an ornately carved wooden table stood between the two. The wood was an unusual dark grey that looked like pictures she'd seen of bog oak. I don't even want to know how much that cost, she thought. Maybe it's common in Nightmare.

Nessos crouched in front of the unlit fireplace which took up most of the wall that the chairs were facing. She noticed that the floor was covered in large tiles crafted from the same shimmering, slate-like stone as the walls. There was no grout. Instead, the cracks between the tiles were filled with bright green moss. The affect was hauntingly beautiful, but alien. "We're inside the Queen's Retreat, aren't we?"

Nessos hummed his agreement. "That we are. Not exactly how we'd planned on showing it to you, but these things happen."

She tilted her head back and stared at the not-actually-wisteria hanging above them. There isn't a solid roof at all, she realized, just latticework for the vines to cling to. What happens when it rains? Does it rain? "Should I even be in here? Isn't this some sort of private sanctuary for the future queen?"

A chuckle answered her. "It's increasingly apparent that you have no idea what your title means. In the absence of a Goblin Queen, you are well within your rights to claim this place as your own. Noble rank in the Conflux, what you might think of as the Goblin Kingdom, is largely determined by the Labyrinth. Only a Champion can take the throne. King Jareth was the first one to hold that title. You're the second. Until such a time as the Goblin King has a wife or a child who can also claim the title of Champion, you my dear Sarah, are the Heir to the Throne."

Sarah nearly choked on her drink. She turned to Nessos with wide eyes. "Please tell me that you're joking. I'm not some damn princess!"

Nessos's lips quirked into a lopsided smile. "Not a princess, no. You're neither married to a king, nor the daughter of one. But being a princess is not required to be the next in line in this case. Until another Champion surpasses you in rank by being the Goblin King's wife or child, the position is yours." His expression turned contemplative. "I wonder if that's occurred to him."

Sarah downed the remaining contents of the goblet. She didn't think that she could handle this information. Being a lady was strange enough. I can't be the Heir, she thought, I haven't even spent an entire day in the Underground! I'm not qualified to rule a freaking country there! There has to be someone more capable. "What if some higher noble became Champion? Like a prince, or a duke, or something, from another kingdom? Wouldn't they become the Heir?"

Nessos shook his head. She could feel him silently laughing at her. "The succession goes in order of seniority. The only exceptions would be the current king's non-existent wife or child, and even they would have to be a Champion in order to outrank you." He held up the decanter with a mocking smile. "More wine?"

*JS*JS*JS*

Hours after his abrupt departure, Marvok reappeared in the clearing in front of the Retreat. Sarah, who was still buzzed from the wine she'd drank, ran out to meet him when she sensed his approach. She pounced on him, throwing her arms around his waist and squeezing for all she was worth. "You're okay! I was so worried." She leaned back, eying him critically. "You are okay, aren't you?"

Marvok's brows rose and his eyes widened. "Am I…" He blinked, bewilderment painted across his sharp features. "You were worried? About me?"

Sarah glared up at him. "Of course I was worried! You seemed so agitated and then you just took off! I know that Azu is back at my parents' house which means that you didn't have any back up. You've told me how dangerous this place is. I mean, I know that you're from here so I tried to stay calm. But what if you got hurt? Or if something attacked you?"

Sarah gave him a pointed stare while still refusing to release him from her grasp. He, in turn, stared back at her as though she had completely lost her mind. After a moment, he chuckled and returned her hug. "I admit that you are the only living thing that has managed to surprise me in a very long time, Sarah."

Sarah gave an indelicate snort to that. She still didn't see why he found anything about this situation humorous. "How long is a long time?"

Marvok's mirth filtered through the air like smoke. "Many millennia. The last time I felt anything close was when some upstart, young princeling of the Underground managed to defeat the Labyrinth's Challenge and become the Goblin King."

Sarah blinked. Damn. That is a long time. How freaking old is he?

Marvok's lips curled into a smile. "I appreciate your concern, mindin kaidrah*, but worrying about me is pointless. Very few creatures in this entire Realm would dare to so much as fantasize about attacking me. I am not merely A nightmare, dear Sarah. I am THE nightmare. I am that which other nightmares fear."

Sarah had no idea how to respond to that. Unfortunately, in her tipsy state, her mouth seemed more than capable of spewing out words without consulting her. "So…what does that mean exactly? You're the thing that hides in the boogeyman's closet?"

Marvok barked out a laugh before nodding. "Yes, mindin kaidrah. That is precisely what that means."

Well…Sarah thought. I guess that answers that. "So why did you take off anyway? What was so important?"

He pulled her to one of the stone benches near the rose bushes, gesturing for her to sit with one clawed hand. After she was settled into place, he dropped down to sit sideways beside her. He planted one booted foot on the bench and rested an elbow on his raised knee. "Sarah, you are aware of how little you know about the politics of Underground nobility, yes? And that this could pose a problem?"

Sarah hung her head and nodded. She knew just enough about medieval politics to grasp that a noble, no matter how minor, who didn't understand them would be in deep shit. It's why she'd asked Bree'Onne for books on the subject. She didn't know how else to even begin to fix the problem. I thought that I was screwed when I believed that I was just some minor noblewoman. What the hell am I supposed to do now that I know I'm the Heir to the freaking Throne?

Marvok sighed. "I have never been one to care about such things enough to pay mind to the minutiae of their politics, and the Sidhe find me so frightening that my lack of knowledge has never been a cause for concern. I am a thing that only the most desperate would even risk summoning. My name is well known, and yet it has been nearly thirteen centuries since a noble of the Underground was brave, or foolhardy, enough to invoke it. Needless to say, my knowledge of public affairs has never been questioned. On the rare occasion that I do appear amongst the nobility, I am barely expected to abide by the most rudimentary aspects of common courtesy."

Marvok shrugged before continuing. "No one requires diplomacy of me. It is simply assumed that I will eviscerate any imbecile brazen enough to offer offense." He shook his head and ran a hand through his wild ebon hair. "Sadly, this limits the aid that I can offer you in this area. While I understand the Fae, I am no politician. If you truly wish to eventually live in the Underground, you will have no real choice about taking up your rightful place as a member of the court and that means dealing with the Game, as they call it. Sidhe nobles are raised to it. From their first words they are trained to play the Game and they have centuries to hone their skills before being forced to make true use of them. By your very nature, you will enter their world with a tremendous handicap. Nothing can change that."

Marvok met her gaze, his expression as pitiless and unyielding as stone. "There is blood in the water, Champion, and you will need to learn to swim while the sharks circle you in pursuit of your flesh. As much as I would prefer to simply end any potential rivals, I know enough to understand that you will require other methods. If your 'bodyguards' threaten all of your purely political adversaries, it will only make you look weak and prevent you from ever being accepted, let alone gaining their respect."

Sarah swallowed back her nerves before meeting his gaze. She clenched her hands together in her lap. "What do you suggest?"

Marvok flashed a knife-edge smile that glimmered with malevolent delight. "I suggest that we use every weapon that can be turned to our purpose. I may not be an expert on politics, but I am an expert on fear and we can use that."

Sarah stared at him in confusion. He might be terrifying, but she sure as hell wasn't, and he'd just said that the shadow goblins couldn't just go around threatening everyone.

Marvok waved off her protests before she could voice them. "Your largest point of vulnerability is your lack of a House. In all Fae-controlled Realms, nobles are assembled into Houses. Their Houses provide them with protection and power in exchange for their allegiance. An offense against one member is an offense against all. The system dictates many actions taken by the nobility. Even if an individual noble is weak, if they are from a powerful House then others are cautious about moving against them. You are currently in the same position as an orphaned noble child whose House has been destroyed—a ward of the crown."

Sarah considered this. "And being a ward of the crown makes me look weak. Are you saying that I should somehow find a way to join a Sidhe noble House?" While a House seemed like an excellent thing to have, she had no idea why one of them would want her. How the hell do they even add members?

"Absolutely not," Marvok sneered, "though I suspect that will be His Majesty's plan. While he is personally a member of two incredibly powerful Houses, neither of them allows for one not of their blood to be admitted through any means aside from marriage. I believe that he most likely intends to pressure one of the Houses which owes him fealty into accepting you as a member, but that is problematic for a number of reasons."

Sarah's laugh held no humor. "Like the fact that they would no doubt resent me for it? Or try to control me and use me for their own ends? Or that I would still be viewed as a weak child that the King had to provide for?"

Marvok's lips quirked into a smile. "You are learning. Clever girl."

Sarah looked down and rubbed her temples. She could feel her mind trying to slip back into panic and wrenched herself back into focus by sheer force of will. "So what's your solution?"

Marvok tilted his head, studying her expression intently. "Sidhe are not the only ones with Houses, mindin kaidrah. While we rarely become involved in Underground politics, my House is greatly feared and of unquestioned power. The idea of binding you to House Vel'Xindi* had honestly never occurred to me because the blood rites required would normally kill anyone other than a shadow goblin." He glanced to the side, his face contemplative. "Admittedly, there is also the fact that we have never been particularly friendly with other races. Regardless, you are part shadow goblin. You hold two Darkblades and are irrevocably bound to me and my pack. I needed to find out if my idea was feasible so I sought the guidance of the Labyrinth and the thoughts of my House's Zyr'covra*."

Sarah looked up at him, her eyes bright with wonder. He would do that for me? The Labyrinth may have ordered him to guard me, but now he's talking about making me part of his family. She wondered what the rest of his House would think of the idea. "Zyr'covra? Is that like your leader?"

Marvok shook his head. "Not at all. It means something like 'Shade Speaker'. The closest concept that you might be familiar with would be a priest, or perhaps a shaman."

Sarah gave him a watery smile. "I would love to be part of your House, Marvok. I can't believe that you'd do that for me."

Marvok stared at her appraisingly. "Sarah, are you drunk?"

She shook her head. "Not anymore. Nessos cut me off and made me eat."

He blinked. "May I ask why you were drunk to begin with?"

She shrugged. "I had a panic attack. Because…Nightmare. Nessos gave me his blood mixed with wine that tasted like sour cherries. Then he told me that I was the Heir to the Throne. I guess he wanted to see if I'd freak out again. I didn't. Well, I did a tiny bit, but not completely. So the blood must have worked, but I did keep drinking."

Marvok sighed. "Until he cut you off."

"Until he cut me off," she agreed.

JS*JS*JS*JS*JS*JS*JS*JS*JS

Chapter 13 Footnotes

1. mindin kaidrah: Phrase in Stygian (the common tongue of the Nightmare Realms); translates as "(my) little sister".

2. House Vel'Xindi: The shadow goblin noble House that Marvok is a member of. Vel'Xindi translates from Stygian as "Shadow Heart".

3. Zyr'covra: Stygian title; translates as "Shade Speaker". They are the Nightmare Realm's version of spiritual advisors, keepers of history and traditions, and masters of ceremonies. Their role is somewhat similar to that of a priest or shaman.

JS*JS*JS*JS*JS*JS*JS*JS*JS

Thanks so much to everyone who has favorited or followed this work and to all of my lovely reviewers. I wish you all dreams of the Goblin King.

Please review! Kind or critical, reviews really motivate me to keep writing. Nothing brightens my day more than knowing how my readers are responding to my work. My Muse lives off of feedback. So please feed her! Please leave a contribution in the little box.