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Jareth Meets Maleficent

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May 27, 2014 by kristin

Last week, my writer’s group had a viewing party to watch The Labyrinth because our fearless leader Tia had never seen it! (WHAT??? NEVER??? REALLY???) The rest of us are devoted fans (and probably would’ve written fanfic about it in the 80′s if it had occurred to us), so our writing prompt for this week’s meeting was to write a little Labyrinth fanfic! Here’s what I came up with while waiting for my husband to meet me for dinner: A mash-up of The Labyrinth and Sleeping Beauty, with two of my favorite villains meeting up!

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“Why are you toying with that young tart anyway?” The sorceress perched her skinny, black-clad behind on the arm of Jareth’s throne and tugged at a lock of his platinum hair. It broke off in her fingers, and she blew the fried strands away before he could notice.

Jareth was too busy staring into that blasted crystal ball anyway – watching that Renaissance-shirted twink prance through the maze, completely oblivious to the fact she was being observed. Soon, Maleficent expected they would catch her picking her nose.

“Because I like to toy with her,” Jareth said after a significant delay in which Maleficent had almost decided he hadn’t heard her. “And I’m king, so I will do as I like.”

Maleficent shrugged and smiled silkily, but of course Jareth did not see her.

“As will I.” She chose to stroke his hair this time instead of tugging it. Again, he ignored her touch, focusing his painted eyes on the crystal ball.

Maleficent was tempted to pout, but all-powerful sorceresses did not pout. They proclaimed. They cackled wickedly. They enacted revenge.

Maleficent hopped up from the arm of the throne and stalked across the room, swishing her black gown out behind her. She lifted one long, white hand, and her pet crow flew down from atop one of the throne room’s gargoyles and lighted on her finger.

“We’ll just go back home if all he’s going to do is moon over a prepubescent, won’t we, my pet?” Maleficent cooed, stroking the crow’s shining black feathers.

Jareth snorted. “You know it’s boring as the devil at your castle. Not one soul to coerce into intelligent conversation.”

“It’s not much better here,” Maleficent said with her back still toward him.

In less than a blink, Jareth stood behind her. He had such an unnerving way of doing that, and yet, when he lay his hands on her shoulders and breathed close to her neck, she felt a pleasurable shiver. The crow flew away with a squawk.

“Oh, but isn’t it?” he said. “I’d like to think I can at least hold up my end of a tete a tete.”

Maleficent wanted to melt under his kneading fingers, but she held herself ramrod straight. She cocked an eyebrow and crooked her mouth to match, knowing Jareth’s face was close enough beside hers to see it. “Usually,” she said slowly. “But usually I have your undivided attention.”

“Ah,” Jareth said, spinning her around to face him so fast she hadn’t time to resist it. He touched her chin and compelled it to tip down toward his. “So Maleficent is jealous. Envious of a ‘Renaissance-shirted twink.’”

Maleficent blinked, too stunned to respond with her usual stony countenance. She had not said that part out loud. She was sure of it. She narrowed her eyes.

“Stay out of my head, Goblin King.”

Jareth laughed and released her, spun away, and for a moment she was very sorry that he had. Then she was angry and glad, at least she told herself so, and this time she was careful to build back the stone wall she kept between her mind and his.

“You’ve grown lazy,” Jareth teased, draping himself across his throne. “Or comfortable.”

Maleficent drew herself up to her full height, a head taller than Jareth’s, even without her imposing horned headpiece.

“I am never comfortable.”

She called the crow to her shoulder and swirled her cloak and skirts around her until she was whirling away, back to blackness, back to her castle. Alone, except for the sodding foolish goblins. Until next week anyway. The girl would be gone by then. She could have Jareth to herself.


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About Kristin

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Kristin L. Walters is the author of YA historical novel THE GIRL IN LILAC AND GRAY. She blogs about writing and reading historical fiction, and the things that inspire her - family, genealogy, old houses, Victorian photographs.

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