Morningstar

by justletmebreathe

I've always thought that if Sarah never came back to Jareth, he still deserved a second chance at love, even if Sarah was only a passing fascination. This time it's Salem, a 16-year-old elective mute with fire in her veins and passion in her blood.

Yeah, I had this totally amazing idea for a story (currently I am writing this one from an original fiction point of view as well) and decided that, since my character was so much like Jareth, I'd turn him into him. At least for a little bit. You'll probably notice a lot of errors, cause I type fast and don't notice them all.

Enjoy.

A breath of air. My lungs chose to forgo the formalities of breathing - instead, a gasp of emerald and ruby flooded through me. so many masks…. So many hidden faces, so many unknown façades, perhaps even unprecedented intentions…

But it was only one face I truly sought - the one I had consistently been seeing in my many recent dreams. This roughish façade constantly taunted my now-tortured thoughts, for though it was beautiful and handsome, it was also cruel and sadistic, the perfect rendition of a soul crying out for compassion and twisted love. And yet, there was a shadow of enrapturement in this commanding sadist's eyes that spoke to me of a deep sense of regret for… something. Something I could always feel within my grasp, only to be ripped from me when I awoke.

And finally, his ebony eyes discovered mine. My eyes averted, almost terrified he'd see the compassion and… what was it… the hope that lingered there. But what was this strange hope? I had no reason to hope, and every night when I dreamed, I felt that such a confounding emotion was almost a stark betrayal to him. But without knowing why, I had allowed such an unknown hope to flourish within my soul, deeper than the bones lying far within my flesh.

But no longer was I allowed to contemplate this oddity. One fleeting moment, and his regal face vanished into the myriad of masks surrounding me. My arms pounded against he bodies dancing or standing erratically about the alabaster pearl ballroom, attempting to shove them aside as I began one of many desperate searches for his boyish, tortured face. As always, they yanked me into the direction opposite the one I longed to go, laughing in pure merriment as I was forced to the right, nearly slamming my face against the floor in the process.

Standing, I fled past the many humans that blocked my path, growing desperate as my eyes wandered to the monstrous mahogany clock nailed to the wall of the drafty room. One hour to midnight. Something… there was always something sinister prodding me that spoke of dangerous midnight. Panic swept terrifyingly fast through my body, my breathing increasing a tangible amount. My palms began to sweat and I clenched them to my gown, only to force them apart from the fabric for fear of destroying the beautifully elaborate emerald satin. The cruel beating of my terrified heart began to become agonizing, and my fingers went to clutch the skin at my heart in a vain attempt to ease the pain. The frivolous scenes flourishing around me began to dance, my head circling mercilessly as I became dizzy.

And I fell.

I crumpled to my knees, ready for the tortuous agony to do away with and take me.

But kind hands took hold of my shaking arms, not allowing me to fall, and I gazed up into scorching black eyes.

Lifting me from the cold marble floor, he brushed away the hair from my cheek where it had fallen and let his hand rest upon my skin. Lacing his fingers through mine, he grinned devilishly at me, moving his feet as we began to dance, him smiling constantly. I relished the feeing of his hand upon my cheek, and for a few moments I allowed it to stay. But aware of how awkward it was to do so while dancing, I placed my hand upon his shoulder and he slowly consented, a bit sheepish as he removed his hand and placed it at my waist instead.

My gaze absolutely refused to leave his smoldering, molten black eyes. They were so soft and warm as he smiled at me, and yet he seemed so bruised by the past. The remnants of his pain encompassed me, and as it flowed through, I felt an overwhelming need to comfort him. Almost as an involuntary, compulsory movement, my hand came to rest upon his cheek, gently rubbing his skin with the tip of my thumb. His face leaned into my hand, a gentle caress to my aching heart, and renewed hope flooded through my now-invigorated soul. As the emotion overwhelmed my spirit, I fought back the sudden deluge of tears threatening to spill, but still, one small droplet escaped its confines and rolled slowly down my face. He flashed open his eyes, soon discovering my own. I held back a disappointed whimper when he removed my hand from his face, but when he took it back into his own, squeezing it gently, I was immediately relieved. It made me feel wanted.

My heart nearly stuttered out of my chest when his face leaned closer to mine.

With painfully slow movements, he moved ever-closer to me, gently kissing away the single tear that had fallen down my cheek. I felt a small pang of irrational disappointment in my chest that he hadn't let his lips fall about an inch to the right, but tried to quickly hush it away. There was no reason for me to feel disappointment - why would he want to kiss me?

I felt fingertips brush away the hair that had fallen into my eyes. I looked up at him, only to see that his gaze was concentrated upon me. All feelings of hopelessness were erased when I saw the way he looked at me. He pressed his forehead against mine, his lips upturned into a joyfully satisfied smile. He looked like he was dreaming very pleasant dreams.

'I've missed you,' he whispered, curling his fingers around the back of my neck. His skin was icy cold upon my own, but still, that was not the reason that a spasmodic shiver shook through my body.

'You're the one who sent me away,' I scoffed, a blush flushing my cheeks in embarrassment as I realized how shaky my voice was. I clenched my eyes shut, trying to hold back a small, nervous laugh.

'Hmm… you're right,' he murmured, running his fingers through my hair. I realized we'd stopped dancing - where were we now?

'But, Salem, I've always known you would be able to solve it. There were never any doubts in my mind that you wouldn't - I knew that you would be able to find me again,' he whispered. 'I have complete faith in you.'

I didn't think he would ever know how much that one small statement meant to me. He would never realize how that one sentence - 'I have complete faith in you' - would send my frantic heart aflutter with hope. And, even if he would never know, I was so joyous that he had faith in me, that he believed in me.

I felt his fingertips rub gently across my eyelids, beckoning them to open. I obeyed them, flashing my eyes open to see him. My eyes, I knew, were fervent with gratitude.

'Thank you,' I whispered, moving to take the hand he'd wrapped in my hair into my own, squeezing it gently.

''Thank you' for what, exactly?'

'I've been battered, beaten, and broken all my life, Jareth,' I answered, my voice a hush, 'I've been betrayed, taken advantage of, and I've never trusted anyone ever since I was left on my own.'

I threw my arms around his midsection, burying my face against his shoulder as a new, sudden stream of tears flowed from my eyes.

'You're healing me, Jareth. You're fixing me.'

'It was never my choice,' he murmured, brushing his fingers down my hair. 'But I am infinitely glad it wasn't.'

o.o.o.o.o.

I gasped for air.

It always seemed to leave me breathless when I had this dream, which was practically every night. It was driving me insane.

Brushing my fingers across my forehead to remove the lonely hairs that had chosen to fall into my eyes, I forced myself into a sitting position, still trying to make sense through my staggered breaths. I pushed my head between my knees when I realized I was hyperventilating.

This is getting ridiculous, Salem, my own thoughts chided me.

'Ey, you okay there, Salem?' a voice called to me from the right of the room, near the door. I looked up at

Danni, scowling and still breathing heavily.

'Alright, Salem, I get it, I get it - you're still not ready to talk,' he hurriedly answered, his

outstretched hands out in front of him in defeat. I kept my glare plastered to my face, the anger intensifying.

'Alright, I'm going!' And he did so, backing out the door quickly before fleeing down the hallway.

I nodded my head, content that everyone was still flying from my impending, violent, and infamous anger.

Still, the interruption had calmed my breathing, and very soon I stood up, gathering my meager belongings

in my arms before meandering down the hall and slamming my money down on the front desk for my stay

while I walked out the door.

'Oy, Salem…' Danni called, but his voice was instantly cut off as I slammed shut the door

and my feet began to pad against the sidewalk. I threw my bag over my shoulder, running up the driveway

to where I knew I would be able to think.

o.o.o.o.o.

It was a Godsend that the river was so close by, otherwise I might have had to collapse under a tree and figure out my meaning of life right there and then.

Brushing dirt from my grimy pant leg, I plopped down onto the beautifully filthy earth and threw my bag down beside me. I curled my legs up against my chest, crossing my arms over them and resting my chin upon my arms. Now for the dream dialysis - let's get down to the nitty-gritty!

Oy, I wished I had a dream dictionary. Maybe then my dissection would be easier.

I groaned, trying my hardest to refrain from hitting my head repeatedly against some very, very sharp and large rock. Even the thought of thinking about the staggering feelings from my dream made me want to puke.

Okay then, Salem, let's take this up logically.

Chronological order would probably be a good start. Alright, so first - me searching for… what's-his-name. I vaguely remembered calling him something in my dream… it started with… a 'j', hadn't it? Hmm… j… j… j…elly? No, that was imbecilic.

I would shoot my parents if they named me Jelly.

Humph. Oh, wait - Jareth? Oh, well, it didn't matter what his name was, anyhow. I'd just call him 'Bob' for the moment.

Alright. Let's put this in a logical list!

1. Searching for… 'Bob.'

2. Clock-Watching. Possibly insanity catching up with me, too.

3. 'Bob' keeping me from falling. Well, so far, that was the one thing that made the least amount of sense. Me falling wasn't such an uncommon occurrence - I failed all the time. People just… stopped caring.

I shrugged, ready to get on with my list.

4. Dancing. Well, I could certainly count that out. I couldn't keep up a consistent beat to save my life.

5. Speaking. Good Heavens, that was an abhorrent word. It made me shutter involuntarily. I hadn't uttered a single syllable for six months - there was no way I was going to break my record now.

Snap.

My head turned sideways to the forest, staring into its blackened depths, trying to find the source of the sound. I heard a voice, not far from the edge of the wood, hiss out a series of words that I couldn't understand. I had to bite the inside of my lip to keep from calling out.

'Salem, run!'

Oh, crap! Not again! Stupid, stupid voice! I'd been hearing it ever since I was very little, probably ever since I was about two years old.

No, you freakin' retard, I'm not schizophrenic! It was really bizarre, but the voice actually helped me. Like, told me how to get out of some really bad situations. It was that voice that helped me when my mom…

No, no, no! I couldn't think about that now - I was trying to listen to the voice!

I hopped to my feet, trying my best to listen to Voice. But how to run when A) you have absolutely no clue where whatever you're running from is, and B) you therefore have no idea where to run?

Hey, Voice, I thought to myself. Sometimes, when I was desperate, the Voice answered me back.

'Yeah?'

Yay. This was one of those times.

What am I running from, anyway?

'Trust me, you really don't want to know. Just run.'

I turned in a 360, examining my surroundings. Where to run? The sound had come from a twig, so whoever my stalker was, they were probably in the forest. Even if it sounded like they were all concentrated in one area, there was no freakin' way I was going in there.

Movement.

Oh, crud! What the heck was that?

A shadow was advancing from the shade of the trees where it hid. It seemed to glide, not walk - it was like it didn't even have feet. It looked like it was a piece of the forest's shade, expanding it effortlessly as it flew forward with a ballroom dancer's grace. Finally, it came into my view and I could hardly suppress a gasp.

It didn't have a face.

What the freakin' heck was going on here?

'Salem, run!' the Voice called.

Where should I go? They're freaking everywhere! There's nowhere to run!

'The river! Jump in the river!'

That river had to be below freezing! And, aside from that, I couldn't swim! There was no way I was insane enough to go in there!

The leader (well, I assume he was the leader, anyway…) advanced, his humongous army following behind him, their lithe steps larger than any human's.

This isn't real, I told myself rhythmically, like a silent mantra. It isn't real. Not real, not real, not… HOLY HUNKERDOODLEFISH!

'Nice to see you've picked up my favorite catchphrase,' the Voice commented dryly. 'Now pick up your butt and get into the bloody river!'

The leader had drawn from his ebony belt an equally-ebony sword. His army followed the movements, sliding their own from their sheaths. The sound was unified, like thousands of glass cups shattering simultaneously. I could almost feel a leering smirk from all of their faceless gazes.

But… but… I whined to the Voice, But I don't know how to swim! What if I drown?

'It doesn't matter, Salem! You'll be as good as rain, I promise!'

How can you promise anything? You're just a voice!

'Salem, that army will kidnap you, torture you, and proceed to rip out your innards and eat them with a golden fork and or plate unless you get into that river! Stop being difficult and get your fat butt in that water!'

I'm not talking to you for a week for that 'fat butt' comment.

'Yeah, yeah, thank me later. Get in there!'

This better work, or I'm getting a brain transplant.

I groaned to myself, trying to clear my thoughts as I turned, running and flinging myself into the river.

And it was shockingly warm, the river. Pleasantly warm, like an electric blanket on a frozen, snow-filled day. It was even warmer in this river than it was outside, and right now it was spring!

Plus, I was floating, the current carrying me. I didn't just have the inability to swim - I'd never been capable of floating, either. My facial muscles ached, and I was shocked to realize I was smiling. I couldn't remember the last time I'd smiled.

I don't know what hit me, but something hard slammed into my head, sending a crippling pain down my spine. The pain seeped my consciousness away very slowly, making my eyes close in pitiful, restless sleep as my vision sluggishly clouded with faded black.

o.o.o.o.o.

I yawned sleepily, hugging my pillow tightly to me as birds twittered at me in response.

Stupid birds, I thought grumpily to myself, barely suppressing the intense urge to throw a pillow out the window at the offenders.

'Salem, wake up.'

I flashed my eyes open at the sound of Voice, instantly realizing I was somewhere unfamiliar. Hey, that wasn't such a bid deal. That tended to happen to me a lot, even when I was little psychopathic parental unit, and all, so it wasn't unexpected. Besides, this was the nicest-looking place I'd ever been dropped. Black and sapphire-blue satin blankets were wrapped around me, tangled, as if I'd had a nightmare. There was a high window to my right that allowed light to flood into the room unbidden, making the light-golden walls glimmer and shine with pure, glistening white, lightning-light. There was a nightstand at my side with a glass of lightly-shaking water, and though it was sunny and the birds sang, I could hear the light rhythm of raindrops pattering gently against the stone windowpane.

'Get up, Salem.'

I groaned, but begrudgingly obliged to Voice, sitting up and stretching my arms high above my head. I would have stood up, but I really, really wanted to be lazy. Reaching over, I grabbed the glass of water from the nightstand and took a smile drink. I quickly drained the entire glass, realizing with surprise how incredibly thirsty I was.

'Salem, get up!' Voice demanded.

I am up!

'No, Salem, you have to leave! It's dangerous for you here!'

Dangerous? More so than a giant, freaky, no-faced army?

'Yes. Get out of there quickly. But make sure that no one sees you!'

I tripped off the bed, clutching my now-injured foot while hopping over to the door. Well, crap. It wasn't going to be easy to escape with injured toes - I'd have to walk on my foot.

Darn it. I hated pain.

Trying to ignore the pain, I inched the door open only enough to see down both directions. I was a bit immersed for a moment in the scenery - the walls were a bright, soft sage-green, with the same gold of the walls of 'my' room creeping up on them, like ivy. It was beautiful, but it wasn't why I was stunned.

Between the ivy-gold paint, slick, slowly-flowing water ran down the walls, falling to the floor. But the water didn't flood - it just disappeared. There weren't even any holes in the floor - there wasn't anything. The floor wasn't even wet!

'Salem, stop being ADD. Focus!'

Hearing Voice snapped me out of my reverie. I didn't answer back - I just set my gaze out at the strange hallway, glancing both ways several times before carefully putting my uninjured foot out the door. The coast was clear - at least where I could see. I hoped nothing was waiting around the corner for me.

Voice, for once, was completely silent. She did that a lot - in fact, the conversation we had about jumping in the river was probably one of the longest we'd ever had in the fourteen years Voice had been with me - but this time, as I slunk slowly down the dark hallway, it was strangely unnerving. It was probably because I had no clue where I was, and I had absolutely nothing familiar to guide me.

Hey, Salem, shush your bucket, my thoughts scolded in an oddly comforting way. You're fine. This place is pretty incredible - anyone who lives here can't be that bad. Of course, that reasoning completely contradicted Voice, but anything to help me calm down was worth it.

How did I even trip over my own dang feet?Well, it didn't matter - I had. Emitting a small squeal at the surprise and pain of the impact, I hobbled down the hallway, now with two injured feet, trying not to give anymore noise to the air.

'Yeah, sure, Salem. Why not just yell, 'I'm here, I'm here! Come get me, you hosers!'?'

Sorry, that doesn't really fit the role of elective mute.

My thoughts again tried to calm me, the action actually helping me as I furthered my way down the hallway. The only light that was glowing was from the erratically-placed sconces on the walls, and even those fires were not very bright. Nevertheless, as I advanced further down the left of the hallway, running random thoughts through my head to help my nerves out, I allowed some show tunes into the random, fun-house mix.

There's a far-away land, so the stories all tell…

Well, that didn't really help anything! I mean, sure that was from Suessical the Musical, but I was in a 'far-away land,' and an apparently evil one at that. On to something else!

When you walk through a storm, hold your head up high…

Storms. Eww. They were terribly unpleasant creatures.

I would wile away the hours, conferring with the flowers, consulting with the rain. And my head, I'd be scratching, while my thoughts were busy hatching, if I only had a b…

Wait, I didn't want to degrade myself. That would make everything even worse.

'Gray skies are gonna clear up! Put on a happy face!' Voice intoned, trying futilely to be helpful.

Screw you.

'Don't be cruel,' Voice snickered.

Shut up, Voice, or I'll poke you with a q-tip again!

'What?'

I shrugged, even though I knew Voice couldn't possibly see it.

I read it on the internet once.

I turned a corner an cursed myself.

'Salem, such language!'

I ignored her, trying not to slap myself in the forehead. Why hadn't I looked? Why hadn't I freakin' made sure that no one was there before I turned the stupid corner?!

Littered all around the massive room before me were tiny little creatures, none of whom could have been more than two feet tall. They had gangly, long, disproportionate arms and huge noses that took up almost half of their faces. Their heads were disproportionate, too - they were larger than their stomachs! It was insane! Their black-green skin was wrinkled like an old woman's, especially on their hands, and warts were scattered patternlessly across their disgusting bodies. Their eyes, tiny and beady, were all a surprising light green, their mouths extensively large, stretching the complete length of their squashed faces.

I had to admit, they were pretty grotesque.

'Well, look who decided to grace us with her formidable presence.'

My head snapped up to see the speaker sprawled out on a throne, his legs draped over one of the arm rests with his back to the one opposite. In his hand was a small, golden circlet as large as my palm. It looked like a hoop earring without the part you skewered into your ear.

But that wasn't why I gasped, eyes bulging practically out of my head. When I looked up at him, it felt like I was suffocating - my chest felt like it was collapsing. All air had escaped me in a flourish of strangled waves.

It was him. The boy from my dreams. It was him!

I was so shocked, I ended up speaking.

'Holy toledo…'

Realizing what I'd done, I quietly cursed myself and clamped my hand over my mouth to keep from talking. It wasn't a battle emotions anymore - it was a battle of pride! I was too strong, wild, to give up and talk now! Especially of my accord!

He raised his eyebrow curiously, the same ebony eyes I'd seen every night in my dreams staring oddly at me. Was he questioning my intelligence? If he decided to insult said intelligence, I would have to hurt him.

'My, you are an… odd little creature, aren't you?' he commented. It wasn't so much of a question as it was an observation. 'Are you afraid to speak?'

I said nothing, but removed my hand from my mouth and wrapped my arms around each other behind my back, biting down painfully on the inside of my cheek instead.

He smirked - I glared. He was much too pompous for his own good, and mine. I'd go crazy if I had to put up with him. I didn't do well with chauvinistic, conceited pigs. At all. Me, the girl in desperate need of anger management, coupled with a conceited donkey, the thing that I hated most… it wasn't a good combination. If I had my way, I would have already conducted a mass genocide of these pompous, cannibalistic chickens.

'I do realize that my… imposing, regal, handsome presence renders you rather speechless,' he said, hated smirk still plastered onto his face, 'but I would appreciate at least a single syllable in response.'

I couldn't help but give a mischievous grin. This dude had no idea with whom he was dealing. I folded my arms against my chest in defiance, making sure my lips would stay locked.

When he saw my rebellious reaction, his face darkened and his smirk was replaced with a deep frown. Well, it wasn't my fault he was an ignoramus. I wasn't the idiot trying to make an elective mute talk. He stood up from his throne, gliding lithely over to me, his eyes even darker than the ebony they'd been before. When he reached me, he grabbed my chin, holding it tightly in his hand. I slapped it away. How dare he touch me! I didn't even know who he was, and he was already touching my face! Of course, I was conveniently erasing the fact that I'd seen him every night for the past three months from my mind. He was obviously someone completely different than the counterpart in my dreams - it just didn't factor in at all.

He clutched my upper arms, shaking me firmly at my look of furious outrage. I would have ten identical bruises later from his painful grip.

'An Immortal deserves from the pathetic, inferior, mortal race, girl. An Immortal Goblin King demands it,' he informed, his voice quiet, low, menacing in its depth. He shook me fiercely once again for good measure, then backed away and faced me, eyes still glaring.

'But of course you would not have known that - after all, with all your deplorable customs that are practiced on Earth, I don't expect you to be any more intelligent than the worms crawling beneath my feet,' he sneered. 'Your Earthling mortals are the most imbecilic, Neanderthalic, and primitive beings ever to have walked on the magical soil of the Realms.'

Never mind that all this 'Earthling' and 'Realms' crap didn't make any sense. Never mind that I had no idea where I was, that I had just received bruises from the literal man of my dreams, that I didn't care for half of the beings on my planet anyway.

He insulted my race, and, essentially, me. I was freakin' pissed off!

I waited until he turned around to strike. My arms pulled back before it was released, like the spring on one of those mad carnival boxing gloves, into the back of his head. I would have tackled him to follow up on my brilliant attack force, but his eyes halted me in my tracks.

His eyes smoldered fiercely red like hot coals, the fiery anger lighting up his entire façade. The force of his gaze seemed to penetrate me, my heart, my soul. It was like he could see every wrong I'd ever committed, every thought I'd ever had, every memory that had ever haunted me. I could hear a powerful, shrill ringing throughout my skull, increasing in volume and intensity with every moment that passed me by. It was difficult to look away, but when I heard Voice speaking to me, freeing me from the boy's hold, I was able to clench my eyes shut and vigorously try to rub my headache from my temples with my fingers. It felt like I'd just been dissected. It was the most unnerving feeling I'd ever had in my life.

It was only when my throat started to burn with a smoldering kind of ache that I realized I hadn't been breathing. I gasped in a breath, stumbling against the wall despite my efforts to stay tall and strong and keep myself from falling.

'You are a guest here,' he growled, speaking between his clenched teeth,' and do not know the rules of my kingdom, so I will allow this misdemeanor to slide. But be warned - if this occurs again, I will be forced to inflict far worse upon you than a simple memory probing.'

The last thing I remember before slipping down to the floor and into unconsciousness was a scurry of tiny, grotesque footsteps fleeing ever closer to me before I was lifted up by hundreds of tiny arms and carried off to they-only-knew-where.

o.o.o.o.o.

I woke up sputtering, trying to inhale but finding it like inhaling dust. It felt like cotton had been shoved down my throat, for I could still breathe, it was only excruciating, difficult, and useless.

Something cold touched my hand. I opened my eyes, which seemed to have been sown and crusted together, seeing a tall glass of red-colored liquid being held out to me. I reached over and, without looking up at the person offering it to me, sat up on the satin sheets, resting my back against the bed's head board. I gulped down the drink, the liquid quickly quenching my thirst. Even before I'd drank even half of it, my throat was freed of the suffocating cotton feeling. I set the glass on the nightstand, leaning back against the bed and closing my eyes tightly before letting out a pained sigh.

Every bone in my body ached terribly. It felt like I'd been hit by a monster truck - or maybe by a wrecking ball. Painted yellow. With a pathetic, sarcastic smiley face plastered on it.

Being a cynic was fun.

'I would have thought at least a small 'thank you' would be in order.'

My eyes flashed open, my skull slamming against the headboard in surprise. I barely stopped myself from moaning pitifully as I reached up to gently rub the back of my now-injured head. I'd completely forgotten, for those few moments, that someone else had been in the room. I looked up to see him towering over me.

I only barely restrained my urge to throw a pillow at him. I didn't want that freaky mind-reading malarkey to happen to me again. And besides that, my stomach was starting to feel really queasy.

Man, I felt sick. It felt like someone had filled me with some dang intense, salty acid and shook me around like a rag doll. My insides were burning. Not even relatively kidding.

Realizing my stomach could no longer handle the sickening rolling, I leaned over the side of the bed and… retched. Coughing in the general direction of the floor, I leaned up and rested my back once again against the headboard. I took another drink form the ruby-colored juice to rid myself of the vile taste.

'That was… utterly disgusting,' he groaned, his nose scrunched up in disgust, as if he were trying to block some despicable smell. For once, I could understand what he was feeling. I barely restrained myself from throwing up again at the heinous stench.

There was a knock at the door. He glanced over to it, nodding his head in its direction before throwing the same golden circlet I'd seen in his hand earlier at my, uh… waste.

I almost sprung out of the bed in shock. Holy crap! It disappeared! One second, I was getting sick from the sight and the stench, and the next I was feeling perfectly fine, looking down at a spotless floor! Not only that, but now that I thought about it, the small hoop-earring-like-object hadn't been in his hand before!

What kind of bizarre alternate universe had I flung myself into?

I was distracted from my thoughts by the sound of the door slowly, tentatively squeaking open. One of the creatures I'd seen before peeked in, looking terrified, before bending down into a low bow before his Royal-Pain-In-The-Bahookee-Ness.

'Your m-m-m-majesty,' it stuttered, 'Lord Caspien of the Magic Realm is here to see you.' I was surprised - I'd have thought the ugly creature's voices to be painfully soprano and extremely squeaky, so high that only dogs could understand what they were saying. But when this odd-ball creature spoke, his voice was lower than any voice I'd ever heard before, like the deep, rumbling groan of the engine of one of those old fart trucks from the 50s, one without a muffler. It was so low, I could hardly understand what it was saying.

'Didn't you inform him that I am currently busy?' he hissed.

'B-b-b-but, Lord Jareth,' the creature cried Ha! I knew it started with a 'j!', 'he refused to leave until he sees you!'

Jareth hissed out a breath in exasperation, rubbing his temples with the tips of his fingers. 'Very well. Bring him in.'