I don't own it, ok? I wish, but Jareth is kind of occupied at the moment! I know I should be working on my other stories, but this one took over my brain and wouldn't let go until I typed it... the first chapter is long, but the rest should be shorter!
Miss Williams,
Your presence is respectfully requested on the night of the next full moon. The event is the fifth annual ball held in your honor, lovingly referred to as the Crystal Ball, if you'll pardon the pun. You will be the guest of honor and shall be escorted by none other than me. I await your reply earnestly; send it with my messenger. His name is Spark, and he will accompany you from now until the ball.
Your faithful servant,
Jareth
The Goblin King
I sighed, crumpling the page in my hands. The goblin messenger known as Spark stood before me, his feet scuffling against the floor impatiently. The paper ball in my hands was compressed even further as I felt my anger spiral out of control. My hands shook with rage as I reached for a pen and a sheet of paper. Furiously, I set the paper on my desk and went into the kitchen to brew myself a relaxing cup of tea. I stopped in the doorway and watched Spark explore my small kitchen. He climbed on the counters and opened cupboard doors. The sink tap was turned on and the drain was plugged with the stopper. My cookbooks were strewn on the floor, and one was completely destroyed. I sighed, stooping to pick up the texts and place them on the bookshelf before scooping Spark into my arms like a small child, one hand turning off the faucet.
He struggled for a moment, flailing in my arms. After a short time, he calmed, looking at me curiously.
"I'm Sarah, Spark." He nodded knowingly, grabbing fistfuls of my long, silky brunette hair.
"Spark knows, Lady. King told Spark all about Sarah." His hands pulled my hair, not painfully, just testing limits, both his and mine.
"I should have known," I mumbled grumpily, gently setting Spark on my kitchen table to look at him. "You mustn't destroy my things, Spark. Unlike your king, I cannot replace what you break, understand?" My tone was similar to one a mother might use when explaining something to a very young child. He nodded vigorously, and I laughed despite myself.
With this, I moved to my desk, the goblin in my kitchen all but forgotten as I faced the blank parchment staring up at me.
Dear Jareth,
I crossed it out, finding it much too familiar for the formidable man I hardly knew. Grabbing a new piece of paper, I started again.
Dear Goblin King,
As I have said these four years past, I will not attend. Thank you for sending Spark, but his presence will not be necessary. Kindly stop inviting me to a ball which I have no intentions of attending.
Sincerely,
Miss Williams
I folded the note carefully, trying not to smear the ink. Standing up, I moved back into the kitchen. Spark was where I left him, sitting on the table, his eyes focused on a bowl of apples by the door. I handed him one along with the letter.
"Deliver this to your king. The apple is for you, as payment for your good work." He snatched both items from me greedily, smiling up at me before disappearing right in front of my eyes.
I slid down the door frame, nearly collapsing on the floor. My hands shook and my breath was ragged and uneven. My heart pounded uncontrollably, and my face was flushed. In my head, Jareth's last words echoed over and over again, haunting me, plaguing me with the confusion that accompanied them. When he had said them, I was too young to understand their meaning, but now that I had grown up, I longed to know the truth behind them. I cradled my head in my hands, pulling my knees to my chest as silent tears leaked from my eyes. My nose ran, and I sniffled pathetically.
Gathering my strength, I stood dizzily, my jeans wet from where my tears had fallen. I trudged slowly up the stairs, my feet dragging. Heavily, I fell onto the chair in front of my childhood vanity. When I had moved from my father's house, I took the vanity and mirror with me, as it was the only way to communicate with my friends from the Underground. Hoggle, Sir Didymus, Ambrosias and Ludo were my best friends, and I loved them dearly. The surface of the mirror rippled gently, and as it calmed, Hoggle's kind face appeared in front of my distraught one.
"Ya got yer invite, dincha?" he asked, his voice conveying his concern.
I nodded miserably, my head resting on my arms. "Hoggle, how could I go? I can't ever face him again! He hates me!" This statement brought on a new round of tears and I moaned helplessly. My angst was strong tonight, stronger than it had been for a while, and I was being pulled along by the sea of emotions that barraged me.
"Hey now, Sarah! If he hated ya, he wouldn'ta held a ball ev'ry year. He doesn't hafta, ya know!" His words were soothing, even if I didn't care to admit it. If Jareth held a ball for me every year, he must care a little.
"But what if he's mocking me?!" I groaned, the idea grabbing hold and refusing to let go. "What better way to mock a dreamer than give her her dreams for one night only?" My tears continued to flow freely down my face.
Hoggle sighed, used to having to comfort me. "Why bother havin' the dang ball ev'ry year if ya ain't comin'?" He asked me reasonably, his gruff tone very familiar to me. "Ev'ry year, he hopes ya'll change yer mind at the last minute!"
I opened my mouth to respond, but I didn't have a comeback to that one. Hoggle smiled as my tears stopped, knowing he had helped me avoid yet another crisis. "You're right, as always, Hoggle." I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand, "Thanks."
He shook his head ruefully, "I ain't always right, Sarah! This one time, in the Labyrinth…" He spoke easily, his voice filled with laughter. As two old friends, we talked late into the evening, recounting humor-filled tales, as well as catching up with each other.
I rarely had time to speak to him, between classes during the day and my part-time job waitressing at the local diner, but when I did, I never enjoyed myself more. I was grateful that it was Monday. I had no classes tomorrow, and didn't work until the late afternoon. I would be able to catch up on lost sleep, and Hoggle wouldn't feel guilty.
Just as the sun peeked over my windowsill, Hoggle tottered off to bed (because the Labyrinth had 26 hours to our 24, the time difference changed frequently).
"Good night, Hoggle!" I called to him as the mirror rippled again, my room once again reflected in the cool glass. Wearily, I turned away from the vanity, standing to pull off my jeans. My shirt followed soon after and landed on top of my vanity mirror as I carelessly tossed it away from me. I rummaged around in my drawer, looking for my pajamas. Pulling on a tank top and a pair of flowing pants lazily, I fell into bed.
Sleep came quickly to me this morning, my exhaustion drowning me in my dreams. I slept fitfully, tossing and turning as my dreams turned to nightmares, Jareth mocking me over and over again.
I awoke slowly, squeezing my eyes shut against the bright sunlight streaming through my window. Reluctantly, I stretched, my weariness leaving me. As I stretched, my foot collided with something hard, and I withdrew it immediately. Cautiously, I opened one eye, squinting to see what I had unintentionally kicked.
For a moment, I could not see in the sunlight, but my eyes focused quickly. "You!" In recoil, I pulled away and promptly fell out of my bed, landing with a thump on my floor.
He looked at me, obviously amused, "Yes, me." His slight accent sent chills down my back and I shivered involuntarily.
Crossing my arms over my nearly bare chest self-consciously, I asked, "Why are you here?"
"Surely you know, Sarah." My name fell from his lips like music and even despite my situation, I blushed with pleasure.
I rose to my feet, my eyes never leaving his, "No, I don't know, Goblin King." I spat acerbically, adding under my breath, "and don't call me Shirley."
I turned away from him then, tidying my room at whirlwind speed, trying to make it fit for royalty. As I cleaned, I hastily pulled on a sweatshirt over my thin tank top in an effort to cover myself up. I heard him chuckle but I ignored him until he chose to speak again.
"Sarah, why don't you come to the Crystal Ball?" His voice was alluring and my heart accelerated, trying to leap into my throat. When I turned to face him, I found myself face to face with his chest.
I struggled to speak, but his close proximity made it impossible. Gingerly, I inched around him and walked to the door, determined to avoid being backed into another corner. "I don't think that will be possible, as I told you, via Spark." I leaned against the door frame casually, trying to appear relaxed.
He stepped towards me, capturing my face between his hands before I could react. "Why not?" His eyes held mine as fiercely as his hands held my face. He spoke softly so that I had to lean in to him to hear him.
"I'm busy that night." I lied, quickly making plans for that evening.
He smirked and I couldn't help myself, 'Damn, he's sexy,' I thought dreamily in my head.
"What night is the night of the full moon?" He asked me innocently, his posture cool and composed.
"It's…" I broke off, knowing he had trapped me. "I don't care; I'll be doing something that night." I answered him petulantly, like a stubborn child.
He sighed, "Sarah, don't defy me." The last time he said that, I had quivered in fear. This time it was not a command, but a request. His eyes were kind, unlike I'd ever seen before.
"Who said I was defying YOU? Egotistical much?" I laughed nervously, trying to lighten the nearly tangible tension in the air.
He stepped closer to me, warmth radiating from his body. "Why do you avoid me? I step closer; you step away. I invite you to the ball; you lie your way out of it. Tell me why, I beg of you." His face was twisted into a mask of torture, and his voice lowered to a desperate whisper.
I longed to stop his pain, but I didn't know how, "If I go to the ball, what will happen?" I regretted it as soon as I said it, but 'what's said is said.'
He brightened visibly, a beautiful gown appearing in his hands. "Wear this on the night of the full moon, and I'll take you with me then." He laid the gown on the bed as I spoke up.
"I didn't say I was going! I said 'IF'! If is a very big word!" I moved to the bed, standing next to him as I lifted the gown. Involuntarily, I gasped. The fabric was softer than a cloud and lighter than a butterfly's wing.
He chuckled, a truly melodious sound, and placed the gown on the bed again. "I'll see you on that evening. Expect messages from Spark periodically, for I will send some." I looked at him, slightly agape as I finally noticed his clothing. He wore a ruffled poet's shirt, a warm cream. The neckline scooped to reveal the top of his abs, which were handsomely sculpted. His grey pants were little more than a second skin, and I blushed furiously as my eyes skimmed his 'package.' Covering his feet were a pair of knee-high boots, which were, of course, immaculate.
He caught one of my hands in his gloved one and brought it to his lips, kissing the back of it gently. He looked up at me, his eternally untamable platinum hair falling in his eyes deliciously. Even through the glove, I could feel the warmth of his hand and I was frozen in the moment. As my senses returned to me, I snatched my hand away, even my ears turning red from embarrassment.
"Good bye, Goblin King." I murmured quietly, raising a hand to wave at perfection in human form.
"Please, call me Jareth," he replied lazily, vanishing in his trademark puff of glitter.
I looked at my alarm clock beside the bed, "Oh, it's not fair!" I screamed, stamping my foot on the floor. "Damn you, Goblin King!" I rapidly stripped, hopping into the shower. "And damn me too, me and my hormones!" I grumbled angrily, turning on the water and lathering my hair. "I'm going to be late! If you hadn't come, I wouldn't be!" I moaned miserably, rushing to clean up before work. I turned off the water, toweling off and wrapping my hair up in the same motion. Stepping in front of my vanity, I looked again at the alarm clock, deliberating whether or not to wear makeup today.
"What?!" The time changed before my eyes! I stared at the clock dumbfounded, my mouth forming a comical 'o.'
A voice whispered in my ear, "I reordered time for you once, it seems only right that I do it again." Jareth chuckled quietly, his voice floating away with an invisible gust of wind. I whipped around to find him and saw nothing but my painfully ordinary room. Humming a joyful tune, I skipped from my room, deciding to go without makeup.
My good mood lasted through the metro ride into town and until I walked in the door of the diner. Waving merrily, I stepped into the employee break-room, putting my purse and coat in my locker.
My manager, an older woman named Rosie, stopped the door before I slammed it, shaking her head sadly. "I'm sorry, Sarah." She pulled my coat off the hook and draped it over my arm gently. "The diner is letting people go. I'm really sorry." She turned away from me as I began to tear up.
I pulled my coat on, throwing my purse onto my shoulder. Angrily, I stormed from the diner, slamming the door loudly behind me, causing sever customers to watch me as I passed the window front. I reversed the process, climbing back onto the subway and heading home, frustration hanging over me like a rainy cloud. Muttering about my lamentable situation, I sat upon entering my home, propping my feet on the other end of my sofa, only to collide with something warm. I squealed in surprise, recoiling into myself.
A smooth chuckle made me open my eyes, which I had shut out of instinct. "Hello again, Sarah." Jareth greeted me pleasantly, given that I had just kicked him in the stomach.
I tried to regain a little dignity by standing gracefully, but as I passed Jareth, my foot caught his and I fell to the floor with a loud bang. "Hi, your majesty." I muttered into the carpet, my face burning with embarrassment. Gingerly, I stood up, adjusting my clothing to hang appropriately. "Back so soon?" I asked him jokingly, my tone light despite my anxiety.
"Yes, well.." He stuttered, something I never imagined him, of all people, doing. "I came to make sure the dress fit." He looked at me with a hidden emotion burning in his mismatched eyes.
I ran to the stairs hastily, his presence making my breath short and my heart beat accelerate. "I'll go check. Stay!" I commanded playfully, pointing my finger at him authoritatively. He laughed silkily, waving me up the stairs in agreement.
Once in my room, I shut the door, my hands shaking nervously. I gently lifted the dress, examining the fastenings, so I knew what undergarments to wear with it. Exasperatedly, I pulled out my only strapless bra and put it on, sliding into the dress. I turned to look in the mirror and gasped; I looked like a princess. The dress was an emerald green, which complemented my hazel eyes. I decided not to do anything else, since he just wanted to see that the dress fit, and fit it did. The dress was tight across my chest and waist, flowing over my hips and legs. The sleeves were fitted between my shoulders and my elbows, but flowed from there to the cuff. Sewn inside one sleeve was a small, nearly invisible pocket, to be used in lieu of a purse, I assumed. The hem floated just above the floor and disguised my stumpy legs pleasantly. I sighed contentedly, enjoying the feel of the dress against my skin.
Slowly, gracefully, I walked down the stairs, one hand holding the banister to ensure my balance, the other lifting my dress so that I did not trip. I did not look at Jareth directly but I could feel his eyes on me as I moved.
Shaking himself, as if breaking a trance, he stood, providing his arm for me. I took it daintily, or so I hoped, laughing demurely as I did.
"Sarah, you look ravishing." His voice was sincere as he spoke, and I smiled gratefully.
"Thank you," I murmured quietly. He drew me into his arms, a soft melody playing around us.
"We must make sure you can still dance," he whispered in my ear, his breath tickling me.
I shivered, nodding, "It's all in the leading," I reminded him, my tone dreamy as I twirled around my small dining room with this vision of perfection.
My phone rang shrilly, and I leapt from Jareth to answer it. "Hello?!" My voice had an edge of hysteria in it, but who could blame me? I had the royally sexy Goblin King standing before me, bewildered as I spoke into the plastic handset.
"Sarah? It's Karen!" Her voiced practically oozed out of the receiver. "Are you ok? You sound tense!" She was concerned about me, living by myself in the big city. After my 13-hour journey six years ago, I had learned to love my step-mother, even though she still got on my nerves from time to time.
"Karen, can I call you back a little later?" I cradled the phone between my head and shoulder, trying to convey to Jareth that I would only be a minute more.
She sighed, struggling to guess why I was being uptight. "Sarah, please be careful. Use a condom!" She hung up as my face burned hotter than the sun.
I placed the phone back on the stand as I rubbed my temple, a headache forming. I turned back to Jareth, one hand on the back of my neck. "Sorry about that! My step-mother gets a little worried when she doesn't hear from me." I didn't look at him, though he was right there, Karen's advice putting horribly delicious ideas in my head.
"So she's no longer the wicked step-mother of your youth?" He smiled, amused.
"No, she's not." I decided I didn't want to fight with him, so I let it go. My hands mindlessly played with my dress as the silence deepened. "You think the dress fits?" I asked awkwardly, spinning on my toes to let the skirt spin around me.
He nodded, never taking his eyes from me. "Wouldn't you say so?" He asked me gravely, his face carrying no hint of humor.
I threw myself into his arms, suddenly elated. "Thank you, Jareth!" I buried my face in his chest and inhaled his exotic scent. The fragrance was a mix between a wood fire, nutmeg, and something else I couldn't place.
He froze, barely even breathing as I spoke. Finally, after what felt like an hour, his hands rested on my shoulders, and he pushed me away firmly yet gently. "Did you just call me Jareth?" He sounded both shocked and pleased.
I nodded, surprised at myself. "That is your name, is it not?" I smiled, stepping away from him, my eyes alight with mischief. "Or should I call you something else? Perhaps David?"
He stared at me uncomprehendingly for a moment. "It is my name, but you seemed reluctant to use it." He snapped out of his confusion, his eyes dancing. "Besides there are other things I'd rather be called!" He winked seductively, looking over my form hungrily.
I stared at him, my mouth gaping. Is he flirting with me? Without looking at him, I hastened into the kitchen, filling the teakettle with trembling hands.
"Would you like some tea?" I asked him quietly, my voice barely audible. "I'm afraid I can't offer you much variety, only tangerine, and earl grey. Of course, I do have coffee. Or perhaps you'd like hot cocoa? Cider? Then again, maybe you'd prefer hot water with lemon?" I babbled inanely, my nerves getting to me. I stretched to grab my mugs, standing on tip-toe to reach them. I felt his eyes on me as I moved around again, and I only became more nervous, my hands now shaking visibly. I apologized, "I'm sorry, I don't have any nice mugs. These are gifts from various people."
As I passed Jareth, he reached out and caught my hand, stopping me in my tracks. "Tangerine tea would be lovely." His voice was smooth, like crushed velvet, and I grinned despite myself. "Please, sit, Sarah." Although it could have been a command, it was not. He stood as I approached the table and pulled out my chair, "Allow me." He beamed genuinely, his perfect teeth gleaming.
"Thank you," I glowed from the attention, my eyes shining gratefully as he sat opposite me. His face grew serious, calculating. I was unsure whether or not I ought to have been scared, but I did not feel the ball of fear that frequently curled itself into my stomach, so I ignored that thought.
His leather-covered fingers drummed the table as he continued to peer at me. "Sarah, tell me. Are you happy here?" His gaze never faltered and I melted in his eyes.
I sighed then, blowing a strand of hair out of my eyes, "Happy? What is your definition of happiness? I have a loving family, great friends, I am financially stable, and I am on my way to a great career. Is that not happiness?" My eyes shone with suppressed passion, the passion that I hid within me daily, the creativity that had been ridiculed my whole life.
"Those are certainly things about which to be happy. However, there is more… What about love? What about starting your own family?" His eyes met mine, his intensity equal to my own. "Sarah, what about your dreams?"
"I believe, Goblin King, that that is not of your business." I stood, pulling the kettle from the stove as I placed mental blocks between myself and my emotion.
"Please? Just answer me, Sarah." He moved to stand next to the stove, trying to catch my attention as I concentrated on pouring the boiling water into two mugs.
"As I said, it is none of your business as to that of which I dream." Stubbornly, I handed him his mug, the steam fogging my view of him as he raised it to his lips. Entranced, I watched as his lips parted, the warm liquid coating his lips deliciously. He inhaled the scent of tangerines, licking his lips as he did, reminding me of some of my less-than-appropriate dreams.
He placed the mug down on the counter, grabbing me by the shoulders. "Sarah, don't defy me. Tell me, have you found love? Do you have a family of your own? I need to know, Sarah!" His eyes drilled into mine, as though he could lift the answer from my mind by the sheer force of his will.
Bitterly, I answered him, "I will not answer you, so give it up. Why do you even want know?" I shook my head in disbelief, carefully examining the floor.
"Sarah, why do you insist on being so secretive? Do you still think I'm the villain? Is that what this is about?" He narrowed his eyes at me, glaring at me as he paced through my kitchen, his polished boots clacking noisily, the only sound in the small room.
I rolled my eyes at the drama queen, following him with my eyes as he moved. "I just don't understand why you care. If you're going to be a little spoiled brat, then you can just get out. I don't have time to deal with, nor do I want to, Jareth."
He stopped in his tracks, "I can assure you, Sarah, I am not 'little.'" He smirked as another blush crept over my cheeks, his eyes locked with mine. Without warning, he strode to me, pressing his body to mine as he kissed me hungrily, his arms tight around me. Instinctively, I struggled to free my arms, resting my hands on his shoulders, torn between the desire to push him away angrily or meet his passion. He made the decision for me, ending the kiss as quickly as he had started it, once again vanishing from my home.
I groaned, my fingers tracing my lips in skepticism, unsure if the delectable Goblin King had even been here at all or if he was just an elaborate dream I had concocted to raise my spirits. Still pondering the possibilities, I ran up the stairs, stripping the dress off as I went, hoping to avoid any accidents.
I know it was long, but I promise the next chapters should be shorter! Bear with me, school is going to take priority over this, even though I want to finish it. Review please!