How You Turn My World
Title: How You Turn My World
Author: gkingsley
Fandoms: Sandman/Labyrinth
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Summary: "Tell me, Jareth. Tell me why I should not remake you."
Disclaimer: Sandman is owned by DC Vertigo Comics and Neil Gaiman. Jareth, the Goblin King, and the Labyrinth are owned by Henson. I don't get anything but enjoyment out of playing with their toys.
He glides through the ruined Castle at the Center of the Labyrinth, idly watching the dust motes sparkle and settle with eyes that resemble a field of stars. The place looks deserted, destitute, but looks can be deceiving. The man -- if we must call him anything, "man" will do well enough -- walks slowly, patiently, silently, until scuttling noises from a particularly filthy corner prompt him to say, "fetch your master."
The small, squat creature comes forward, crouched in a low bow. "He...he is not available at present, sire. Perhaps if you could call at a later time...."
"You misunderstand." The figure of the man is tall, imposing. His face is white and expressionless, but there is no mistaking the flash of warning the small creature sees in those dark and fathomless eyes. "It is not my concern whether or not he is available. Fetch him. Now."
~.~
A snowy owl glides smoothly through the sunless skies over the Labyrinth to land on a ruined fragment of staircase. Between one glance and the next, the bird is re-formed into a tall, thin man with fine features and mismatched eyes. He retains some of the predator in his gaze. Facing the taller figure, he glances down and away, but his shoulders still retain a tense, almost rebellious set.
"Goblin King." The star filled eyes are steady, measuring.
"Lord Morpheus." Jareth inclines his head slightly. He is in the presence of a greater being, although he would not, could not admit that fact to anyone. It is not the way he is made.
"Things have changed in the Labyrinth since last I visited."
"You have been gone for a very long time."
The two men, one fair in hair and skin, the other even paler but with hair the color of night (or nightmares) regard each other for a moment.
"Tell me, Jareth. Tell me why I should not remake you."
"Remake me? I do not understand." Jareth retains his stubborn mien, but fear springs up behind his odd eyes.
Morpheus suddenly swells, and his voice seems to echo through the shattered walls, through the Labyrinth, through the world. "You have broken the rules of the Dreaming, little King. Stealing a child? A waking child? Luring a human girl, again awake, into your little corner of Dream, playing your games, nearly destroying the kingdom which you rule on my sufferance? Tell me, Jareth. Tell me, right now, why I should not cast you back into the sands and erase your Labyrinth from the dreams of men forever."
For a moment, Jareth says nothing. It is clear that he is considering the question.
"I have … learned things. True things. Once I was only as you had made me, but I am more than a puppet, Lord Morpheus, more than a nightmare to make children behave. To remake a new Goblin King, to destroy the Labyrinth, would be to squander the knowledge I now bear. And I believe that would be an enormous loss. To the Labyrinth. To the Dreaming."
Morpheus pauses. Even his robes, which seem to move in a breeze that no one else feels, have gone still.
"Tell me what you have learned, and I will reflect upon your request."
Jareth sighs. It is against his very nature to admit to the kind of conquest he has just suffered, but his very existence depends upon it.
"I - I have learned regret, my Lord. I have learned that love is not power, or control, but a gift which is freely given and gratefully received. I have learned defeat. I believe I have learned a breath of humility, but I believe that will come with time and further reflection, if I am accorded such." Jareth inclines his head fully, finally according the Dream King the respect which is his due.
For an everlasting moment, Morpheus looks astonished, and then,
"You are fortunate, Goblin King. You have learned much, more than perhaps any of my creatures. You have experienced growth. It...surprises me."
There is a long silence. Finally, the Dream King nods his head. "See that the rules of my domain are not breached again. Should that occur, I will not be so generous." He turns away, and Jareth can breathe again, as he stands in his renewed, resplendent Castle at the Center of the Labyrinth.
~fin~
Feedback would be lovely.
Author: gkingsley
Fandoms: Sandman/Labyrinth
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Summary: "Tell me, Jareth. Tell me why I should not remake you."
Disclaimer: Sandman is owned by DC Vertigo Comics and Neil Gaiman. Jareth, the Goblin King, and the Labyrinth are owned by Henson. I don't get anything but enjoyment out of playing with their toys.
He glides through the ruined Castle at the Center of the Labyrinth, idly watching the dust motes sparkle and settle with eyes that resemble a field of stars. The place looks deserted, destitute, but looks can be deceiving. The man -- if we must call him anything, "man" will do well enough -- walks slowly, patiently, silently, until scuttling noises from a particularly filthy corner prompt him to say, "fetch your master."
The small, squat creature comes forward, crouched in a low bow. "He...he is not available at present, sire. Perhaps if you could call at a later time...."
"You misunderstand." The figure of the man is tall, imposing. His face is white and expressionless, but there is no mistaking the flash of warning the small creature sees in those dark and fathomless eyes. "It is not my concern whether or not he is available. Fetch him. Now."
~.~
A snowy owl glides smoothly through the sunless skies over the Labyrinth to land on a ruined fragment of staircase. Between one glance and the next, the bird is re-formed into a tall, thin man with fine features and mismatched eyes. He retains some of the predator in his gaze. Facing the taller figure, he glances down and away, but his shoulders still retain a tense, almost rebellious set.
"Goblin King." The star filled eyes are steady, measuring.
"Lord Morpheus." Jareth inclines his head slightly. He is in the presence of a greater being, although he would not, could not admit that fact to anyone. It is not the way he is made.
"Things have changed in the Labyrinth since last I visited."
"You have been gone for a very long time."
The two men, one fair in hair and skin, the other even paler but with hair the color of night (or nightmares) regard each other for a moment.
"Tell me, Jareth. Tell me why I should not remake you."
"Remake me? I do not understand." Jareth retains his stubborn mien, but fear springs up behind his odd eyes.
Morpheus suddenly swells, and his voice seems to echo through the shattered walls, through the Labyrinth, through the world. "You have broken the rules of the Dreaming, little King. Stealing a child? A waking child? Luring a human girl, again awake, into your little corner of Dream, playing your games, nearly destroying the kingdom which you rule on my sufferance? Tell me, Jareth. Tell me, right now, why I should not cast you back into the sands and erase your Labyrinth from the dreams of men forever."
For a moment, Jareth says nothing. It is clear that he is considering the question.
"I have … learned things. True things. Once I was only as you had made me, but I am more than a puppet, Lord Morpheus, more than a nightmare to make children behave. To remake a new Goblin King, to destroy the Labyrinth, would be to squander the knowledge I now bear. And I believe that would be an enormous loss. To the Labyrinth. To the Dreaming."
Morpheus pauses. Even his robes, which seem to move in a breeze that no one else feels, have gone still.
"Tell me what you have learned, and I will reflect upon your request."
Jareth sighs. It is against his very nature to admit to the kind of conquest he has just suffered, but his very existence depends upon it.
"I - I have learned regret, my Lord. I have learned that love is not power, or control, but a gift which is freely given and gratefully received. I have learned defeat. I believe I have learned a breath of humility, but I believe that will come with time and further reflection, if I am accorded such." Jareth inclines his head fully, finally according the Dream King the respect which is his due.
For an everlasting moment, Morpheus looks astonished, and then,
"You are fortunate, Goblin King. You have learned much, more than perhaps any of my creatures. You have experienced growth. It...surprises me."
There is a long silence. Finally, the Dream King nods his head. "See that the rules of my domain are not breached again. Should that occur, I will not be so generous." He turns away, and Jareth can breathe again, as he stands in his renewed, resplendent Castle at the Center of the Labyrinth.
~fin~
Feedback would be lovely.