A/N: I worked hard on this one so hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it! On a totally random side note, did you guys know that April is national Grilled Chesses Sandwich Month? Who would've known Grilled Chesses Sandwiches had a whole month to themselves…anyways, enough babbling. -
Jareth heard a giggle echo across his study. "Jareth", the voice whispered softly. He did not have time for this.
Jareth. Come and play.
He ignored the voice. It had been taunting him for weeks now. Always inconveniencing at the most inopportune of times; He did not have time to deal with this right now.
I know you can hear me Jareth. Why do you choose to ignore me?
Jareth rubbed his throbbing skull. The voice had been giving headaches, which were unbearable at times. He needed to concentrate. He needed this done tonight. The Council was very explicit, they did not appreciate delays. It was a simple task really, menial even. But ever since the Duke of Undelton had been caught tampering with the Kingdom's reports, the Council ordered all monarchs to personally verify the authenticity of all the document of importance. Births and deaths, loans, treaties, checks and balances of the other kingdoms, Council notices, routine magic levels. Jareth had been signing papers since daybreak, or at least if felt like it, and the Goblin King was beaning to tire. This is when he was most vulnerable to the headaches. He had taken countless elixirs and all proved to have no effect on him. Jareth was forced to use his own magic to keep him awake and to keep him sane.
Jareth, you know no amount of magic can keep me out. You know I'm only trying to help.
"This is just one of Luceat's illusions," Jareth told himself, "It's not real."
Oh but I am. You can't keep lying to yourself like this. You'll surely drive yourself into an early grave.
Jareth gritted his teeth and put a shield of magic over himself. Evan an illusionist as talented as Luceat wouldn't be able to break through the charm. After a few moments of glorious silence, Jareth let out a relived sigh. He signed the last of the documents and placed the stack of papers in a magical wooden box. It was bottomless, meaning that it would expand to accommodate its contents, yet its appearance never changed. Jareth had been dumping so many papers in there, surely by now the box had expanded to the size of a large room. A small goblin could easily fall in there and never be found. "That's why there's a lock", mumbled Jareth under his breath. He placed the key in his breast pocket and began writing the letter to the Council ensuring that all documents within his possession were indeed authentic. Dipping his quill pen in ink, Jareth sensed movement from the corner of his eye. "Must be Borgath with my elixir," Jareth thought, "He's late as usual, incompetent fiend."
The moving figure approached Jareth, and the Goblin King put out his hand expecting a vial of elixir. The figure placed something in Jareth's hand but it wasn't a vial, it was a yellow rose.
"Borgath, I did not ask for a flower. I asked for –" Jareth looked up from his letter to face the figure, it was not Borgath. It was a child, five years of age, with hair so blonde it was nearly white. Her dress was pale blue, and her figure was outlined by the soft orange glow of the candlelight. Her skin was pale as snow, translucent in the moonlight. She was barefoot, her feet covered with mud. She had large, dark, emerald eyes which contrasted dramatically with her pale skin. Her thin lips had a light pink hue that was barely perceptible in the dim, flickering light.
"Who are you and how did you gain access to my study?" asked Jareth darkly.
Don't be so cross! I came in through the door silly!
The little girl began to twirl in circle around the room. Peals of laughter, young and delicate, fell from her lips like rose petals. Jareth stood up from his desk and crossed his arms. "You did not answer my question, child. Who are you?"
You know who I am Jareth. Don't lie.
"I have never seen you in my life."
Liar
The little girl stopped twirling and looked up at Jareth. Now that she was closer, Jareth noticed that the child's irises where larger than normal. Her face had a color of curiosity and childish amusement. Quickly, her features changed. She stared into the eyes of the Goblin King, cold and seriously. Suddenly, the temperature of the room dropped a degree. Jareth remained unaffected by the child's chilling stare down. The little girl giggled with delight.
You haven't changed Jareth.
The child titled her head curiously to the side and commenced to dance about the room. "Of all days, she chooses today to send me an illusion. Has she no shame?" though Jareth, "It's most likely meant to delay me. I will have to have a world with the Council about your ongoing Luceat."
The child had stopped dancing and ran over to the wooden box. She nearly tore the top off and started throwing the documents on the floor.
Say, where do you keep the colors Jareth?
"Stay away from there, little girl, I would appreciate it if you didn't completely ruin my days work" warned Jareth.
He used his magic to sweep up the documents on the ground, place them on his desk in a neat pile, close the box, and sit the girl down on a nearby chair. All with a single flick of the wrist. The child tried to get up but Jareth used his magic to keep her seated. Realizing that she was stuck, the child pouted and crossed her arm angrily across her chest.
You're no fun!
"Well you were making a mess of my documents, which I will have to rearrange later. You didn't leave me much of a choice child." The Goblin King walked back to his desk and finished writing his letter to the Council.
You really don't remember me, do you?
For a fleeting moment, the child's voice sounded as ancient as an Adina tree. Jareth turned in order to respond but all he found was an empty chair. The girl was gone. "Good riddance to that dancing, prancing, giggling illusion!" though Jareth. He rolled up his letter, sealed it, and gave it to the midnight messenger outsides the castle gates. The horsemen wore a long, dark cloak. His hood covered his face entirely. No one had ever seen the face of a midnight messenger, but they were loyal to the kingdom and had the fastest mode transportation in all of Underground – horses.
"Is that all your majesty?" asked the horsemen in a deep, gruff voice, His warm breath, which smelled faintly of meat, floated like smoke in the cold, night air.
"Yes," said the Goblin King, "that is all. Make sure it reaches the Council before the break of dawn."
The horsemen nodded in agreement before ridding west into the dark woods. Jareth returned to his castle where he found Borgath speaking with the head chef, Marfo, in the royal kitchen.
"…no it's not that. Sometimes I can hear him talking to himself. He has been acting rather str—"
"Spreading rumors Borgath? And behind my back? Now that's not very nice," interrupted Jareth crossing his arms.
"Your…your majesty!" stuttered Borgath nervously.
"For your sake, I hope you two were talking about the celery," said Jareth glancing at Marfo's cutting board, "If not, I'm afraid I'll have to throw you into the Bog of Eternal Stench, Borgath."
The goblin's beady eyes opened wide in fear. He stepped away from the Goblin King, nodding his head exaggerated vigor. Jareth enjoyed scolding the goblin. He would let him squirm, for now.
"Yes your majesty! We were talking about the celery! I would never even dare to defame your name oh Great Goblin King."
Borgath scratched his balding head nervously. Marfo went back to cutting celery, not wishing to involve himself any further.
"I sure do hope so Borgath. Why did you fail to bring me my elixir?" questioned the Goblin King.
"Sir…I was told that you did not wish to take your elixir tonight, seeing that they weren't helping."
"And who relayed this information to you?"
"Oh, a girl about half your height with white skin and yellow hair. She said she was a sister of yours."
"Borgath, have I ever told you that I have a sister?"
"Uh….no your majesty. But…"
"Have you ever heard rumors of me having siblings of any kind?"
"No sir but…"
"But what?"
"But she looked so much like you!"
Jareth hit Borgath on the back of his little, balding, scrawny head with one loud whack.
"I don't care if she told you she was one of the bloody Council Members! You answer to me only!" Jareth walked away from the two Goblins angrily.
"I didn't know your highness! I swear on my mother's grave!" called out Borgath rubbing his head.
"Isn't yer muter still alive, Borgath?" whispered Marfo.
"I have no time for you excuses," called back Jareth, not turning back, "just make sure it does not happen again orit will be your hide wallowing in the Bog."
Jareth reached his chambers and crawled into bed. "That useless goblin! He doesn't know his head from his feet! Everyone knows that I don't have anything even remotely close to a family. Even less likely a sister! Incompetent goblin, taking orders from a child" thought Jareth bitterly. However, his anger did not last for long. Jareth realized that he was too tired and sleepy to care about one goblin's mishap. Jareth drowsily removed his gloves and boots before falling into a deep and much welcomed slumber.
Reviews = me doing happy dance = inspiration to write more stories! Just saying.
