Prologue

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I always knew I had an out.

I knew I had an escape if it came down to it.

Just submit to him, relapse from what I demanded in the Cathedral and run away.

I just had to find a time when my dignity was shattered and I would do anything for an escape. 

"I thought it would never come to this..." I whispered to myself, my trembling hands touching the power button on my phone. It only reminded me of the obituary. My aunt was shot and killed in downtown Manhattan. She was my last remaining family and I was utterly alone. Alone in a house too big for one college student and one scary looking cat.

"I wish..." I felt a catch in my voice. I tried to firm up. "I wish..!"

What did I have to lose? I was standing on a balcony on a Saturday night in a sweaty Tulane University Marching Band snap-back. I had nobody to come looking for me. Allie hadn't called me since she left me for Julliard. 

I swallowed my better judgement, leaving it to fester and stew in the chasm of tomorrow's regret. "I wish the Goblin King would take me away..."

Nothing happened, and I was beginning to feel like I should check myself into an institution. I banged my head against the balcony wall and felt like an utter moron. I closed my eyes and exhaled my frustration.

Suddenly, I heard screech of an owl. I swiveled around and grabbed the balcony. A majestic white barn owl swooped in and landed on the iron gate. 

"Jareth..." I huffed, taking a few steps back. I thought he would be irritated with me, calling on him for help after denouncing him just a year ago. "If you'll still have me, I will allow you to rule me and be your queen..."

"Lapis..." I heard his voice echo behind me. I jolted around and saw him standing there in a dispersing shower of glitter. He was quite a sight for bloodshot, dry eyes. 

He had me cornered on the balcony. His leather-clad hand brushed a blade of my hair behind my ear, so he could see my tear-stained face. "You are to uphold your end of our deal?"

I had long forgotten about the deal. I stood up at attention, the way they taught us to do in marching band. "Yes." I said, firmly. If I could trick him in to thinking that hitting rock bottom was just me being a woman of my word, than so be it. 

He grinned. He smiled wider than I had seen him smile before. It was as if centuries of rejection had been eradicated from his mind and he had finally won his keep.

His hand swooped and grabbed mine. Oh! It was so calloused and red from beating at a drum for so long -- much to Jareth's dismay. He brought the back of my hand to his slender, white grin and planted a kiss. An electrifying feeling shot through my nervous system and I could feel it expanding; like a thousand pins were haphazardly jabbed into my back. 

"Jareth-" I moaned pathetically when I broke away. He looked on me with the utmost satisfaction. I could feel, something about me was changing. My waist was pressed into the grip of an under-bust corset. Enormous pillow sleeves from an ivory under-shirt sagged against my arms. The slick feeling of leathery gloves encased my hands. A colossal hoop skirt sprung forth from my backside and glistened in the pale moonlight, but my legs were exposed in the front, revealing silky black stockings and modest black flats. I felt myself getting hot under the collar. I realized it was from an eerily familiar looking pendant dangling from a chain around my neck.

"Your outer appearance reflects how you feel on the inside." He explained, sounding like he had been waiting to say that to an ordinary person for a long time. He eyed me up and down, taking careful note of the way my shapely thighs pressed together in fear. "Are you frightened, my dear?"

I wasn't frightened. I was terrified. I was frozen to the core to be unveiled to him. 

"You will learn to be comfortable in time..." he cooed, appearing behind me and taking my hand. 

Something appeared under his grip. He unclasped my fist and put it in my hand. I felt the cold of something heavy and metal. "Your weapon of choice..." he whispered into my ear. I remembered the feeling. It was the fireplace poker I randomly grabbed for defense in the Cathedral. 

"Come, my dearest..." He said, tugging on my hand, making me spin into his arms. "I have a kingdom to run, subjects to kick, and marital chambers awaiting you."

My face turned crimson. His smirk of satisfaction only grew. He bit down on his thumb and forefinger and made a sharp whistle. The Iff came running down the bedroom and to the balcony. 

"Meow Zedong..." I called to my Iff. It was always a surprisingly obedient creature; always coming when called and responding to its name. It jumped to my shoulder and perched regally.

"Time waits for no girl." He spat, trying to hurry me. He turned around, and shortly thereafter, spun me around with his hand on my shoulder. It was my first time laying my eyes on the somewhat two-dimensional outline of the goblin city.

I did a double take. As a child, I imagined it to be much prettier. Even when I faced him a year ago, I imagined him to have a taste for the more refined scenery. But I looked on the landscape. There were no colors. Everything was sand brown, concrete grey or moldy green. The real Labyrinth was a sprawling expanse of twists and turns that I couldn't follow if I had a decade to try. New Orleans and its landmarks were one thing; the middle of nowhere in a nation out of a fantasy storybook was something entirely different.

"This is the Goblin City?" I asked, trying not to vocalize my frisson of shock and disappointment.

"Your new kingdom." he explained, his voice telling me that my feeling was mutual with him. "It is a cesspool." he spat, further proving my point. "I much prefer your little town."

"It is obscene, but our subjects will worship the ground we trod on." He claimed. "And as will I to you, my dearest Queen..."

Regret started to stew in the depths of my stomach. He was already getting too comfortable for my taste. 

Goblins cowered at my feet as I strode through the crowds. Chants of joy, my new subjects yelling "long live the queen!" filled the strangely claustrophobic kingdom. Jareth wanted me on his arm, and he literally had me on his arm. He demanded for me to keep clinging to him like the fate of the world depended on it.

"We aren't affiliated with our subjects." He instructed, looking down at the jovial behavior of the little creatures. "They're beneath us."

I wasn't stupid; I knew this was, historically, how monarchies were run. But I had never been up-close and personal with a monarchy before. I couldn't help but find it a little cold.

"I guess you gotta do what you gotta do..." I tried my hardest to keep my eyes wandering and looking at something, but the scenery was so drab, the most beautiful thing to see was Jareth.

My corset grew even tighter, if that was possible. I looked down at my ever-changing wardrobe. I grew lacy stockings and shiny leather high heeled-boots. My corset turned black and the skirt started to hug my hips, also darkening as I walked.

"They'll adore you." He assured me. "but sometimes it needs to be enforced."

"Sounds charming." I commented under my breath. 

"You'll get used to it." Jareth sighed.

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