Sky: Yup. I'm obsessed with something new.
Jareth: Of course. It had to be us. Couldn't have been some other sap, could it?
Sky: Nope! Time to torment you, your hottness!
Sarah: Back off, girl. He's mine. Also, Sky does not own me, Jareth, or anyone. Except for that goblin that eats its own foot.
Chapter 1: In Which Jareth Is Not Amused. And There Is Foot Sucking Fun To Be Had By All.
"You. There. Mangy one."
Slurp.
"Yes, you, my drool mongering friend."
Chomp.
"Nick…Nim…NIT! Yes, you! "
There was the sound of one very expensive boot being tapped methodically against an equally expensive, albeit impressively grime coated, piece of stonework right beside him.
"Exactly what do you think you're doing?"
It was at this point that the little goblin had the decency to look up long enough from gnawing its own foot to favor its King with an embarrassed look, drool half lapping over the grubby appendage, eyes wide as though caught in a far more compromising act (such as …chewing on… a different goblins… foot), a very tall, very put out looking Goblin King looming over him with ominous written all over his overly sharp features.
Nit did not know the definition of the word ominous. He got the general feeling that it was going to be unpleasant, and likely had something to do with being punted like a chicken. Or chucked head first into the Bog.
"Well?" King was speaking again. Goblin should reply. Something witty…
Silence.
More silence.
Jareth's eyes narrowed substantially.
Even more silence.
Nit simply stared, drool now beginning to lap down his calf and pool around his scrawny legs. From around his foot he tried to manage a pleading grin. Evidently the sentiment got lost in translation, for Jareth, rightly establishing the creature in front of him was far to brain dead to merit even a two word response, promptly introduced a newly shined and magically scruff free boot into his subjects unguarded posterior.
Nit landed, foot still in mouth. A hiss of breath. Arms being thrown in the air. Then nothing. Said King shook his head and, fleeing a mental breakdown, promptly leapt out the nearest window. A snowy white owl was seen winging away seconds after.
After a conspiratory look from side to side, Nit went blithely back to gumming his unfortunate limb.
King was still gone. Had been HOURS.
Nit got the feeling this was a bad thing. Last time King had gone away, chickens had led a (remarkably successful…) coup against the castle and their overlords. Had taken King AGES to clear all the feathers from throne and liberate goblin subjects. Time before that, goblins had been crushed by renegade rocks, also leading coup against castle.
The little goblin was thus able to garner two things from his reminiscing. One, bad things happened when Goblin King left. Two, goblins had to be liberated lots and should look into keeping pets that could not potentially overthrow their masters….
He made a mental note to bring this up at the next Chicken Race.
______
When the King STILL had not returned, Nit finally managed to pry his foot out of his mouth and muster some genuine feeling of panic. Because frankly, that random chicken who wandered the throne room had given him a weird look, and dinner had not been served, and he was fairly certain one of the goblins had plans to set the hedge maze of fire in order to smoke Goblin King out.
Now, Nit was not a wise goblin. He chewed on his foot more then he used it to walk and, like most goblins, was mostly illiterate and could perform math about as well as a blind emu. Jareth, early on his career, back when he had still been full of hope and life and faith in humanity, and thus, obviously hadn't encounter his new minions yet (who promptly removed afore mentioned hope from his lovely Fae self), had once made the fateful mistake to ask him exactly what he believed "two plus two was." He'd said three...
Because, as a goblin, he's stated, he had been adding chickens in his head. And one of the unfortunate birds had been happened upon by a particularly hungry goblin in his mind maze. Missing that last bird, the answer was obviously three.
Oddly enough, King had decided to vacate the castle at that time as well…
In the Above Ground kingdom, Sarah Williams was just finishing getting ready for bed. Life was good. It had been five years since her little run in with His Tightness, her life had been gloriously goblin free, no one had thrown a snake in her face in a very long time and, she noted with some semblance of relief, peach season was over.
Yes. Life was very good.
It was at this time a rather sizable bird chose to crash into her equally locked window.
"HOLY HELL!" Said Sarah with gusto.
"Hoot," said the bird, with noticeably less enthusiasm.
Irony. Sarah was not a fan. Turning, she snatched up a stray pillow, brandishing the fluffy sleeping implement with all the skill of a samurai warrior. The white ball of fluff lying in a rather less then regal heap on her floor favored her with what appeared to be the owl version of a glare. She glared right on back, still clutching her weapon, ready to attack at a moment's notice. The owl did not looked thrilled.
When he did not move from it position, she relaxed her guard a bit, taking a few steps forward. The bird hopped towards her a bit as well, favoring its right leg subtly. The Kings not so kingly entrance had evidently had a few ramifications.
Sarah extended her pillow, gently prodding the bird with its far edge. She received another glare, "You're him? Aren't you?"
"Hoot." It said indignantly.
"Did you hurt your leg?"She was favored with a withering look. "Well," she huffed, crossing her arms stoically across her chest, "Serves you right. Flying in, busting up my window and giving me a heart attack." Again, the owl sitting pitifully on her floor looked less then sympathetic. But alas, for poor, sweet, Sarah, that noble heart of hers was all aflutter in her chest, stirred by the sight of the wounded animal before her. Even if said animal was none other than her age old enemy in a more travel sized package. Against her better judgment, and with an over -exaggerated sigh, she plucked the adorable creature from the ground, setting it on her bed, where the hard floor was less likely to irritate the wound.
"Hoot," the owl responded smugly, puffing its feathered chest out with pride. In a flash of light and overtly much glitter, the owl disappeared and the Fae King appeared before her, disheveled from his flight but still disgustingly resplendent in his kingly attire. He smiled winningly at her through a curtain of wild white-blond hair. "Good evening, Sarah. You're looking particularly lovely this fine night."
She blinked. "Shouldn't you have done that before you hit my window? You know...poofed."
"How very droll, Sarah pet. Next thing I know you'll be expecting me to knock the next time I deign to visit you," Jareth plucked an errant shard of glass out of his hair, easily brushing the remaining pieces off his cloak. And on to her comforter. If he noticed her glare he made no outward sign of it. Arrogant ass.
"Of course, because coming crashing back into my life is so much better when it's interpreted in a more literal sense."
Another smile, tinged with smug amusement purchased at the cost of her pleasure, "I knew it would appeal to your dramatic nature, precious thing; how it warms my heart to know that my wounds were not in vain." As if to make his point, he raised his damaged leg for her to inspect. Above his knee there was a very noticeable tear in those overly tight breaches of his, a lovely little crimson gash rising to fill the vacant space.
She rolled her eyes, "Mmm. Your sacrifice is indeed touching. I think my heart just skipped a beat."
"I do tend to have that effect on people."
"Oh god…"
"Goblin King, dear heart. God is a bit much, even for one such as myself."
Sarah gave him one look. And then sank heavily down on her mattress.
It was going to be a long night.
Sky: Alright...that one was...impossibly short. And probably awful. But hey, first chapter. I can promise the next ones will be better.
Jareth: I get the distinct feeling you're lying...
Sky: You, shoosh! Next chapter, we find out exactly why the Goblin King has chosen to take wing. And the Goblins...well...we're just hoping they don't set things on fire, alright? So review. Because it keeps Jareth's kingdom from going up in flames.