Disclaimer: I own nothing. I'm simply an obsessed fan girl with too much time on her hands. Also sometimes I like to make up words. Sorry.
Note from the Beta: She is also a Rumbelle fan that is upset with the writers at the lack of support for her ship... However that is a story for another time...
In the castle far beyond the goblin city, a fair-haired king sat sprawled across the arms of his throne. His riding crop tapped to the ticks of the clock, which he'd been watching all day. It was half past thirteen o' clock, and nothing of importance had occurred. The goblin king was uneasy. The mortal realm had been too quiet today. And so, in the absence of wishes, he gazed upon the rabble.
Short, fat, little goblins were littered across the stone floor; chasing chickens and getting drunk on goblin beer. One of the creatures had been partaking in both activities, and tripped over one of his fellows, causing a chain reaction mishap that ended in three kegs being knocked over. The goblin king watched in disamusement, rolling his eyes in silent response.
Oh, how he loved his subjects.
It was in that brief moment of silence, before the little boggarts started laughing, that he felt it.
It was peculiar for him to sense anything at all. He normally ignored the dreams of mortals, barring the more interesting ones, and this practice had evolved into a skill. But this feeling, like plauge, started as one little pang, then spread throughout his entire body. Its source seemed to be an unfamiliar, and almost untouchable, place. Nevertheless, it was a distinctive sensation, which he knew well.
A broken dream.
He'd never much cared for this specific ability - to sense, as well as reach out and touch others' dreams - however, he decided to humor himself.
"Quiet!" He ordered the room of cackling creatures. The effect was instant- no little goblin dared make a sound.
Holding out a single gloved hand, Jareth conjured a crystal. The view was smoky at first, and he concentrated to better tune into the mortal's emotions. After a few seconds, the crystal showed him what he was searching for.
Belle faced away from the town line, not allowing her eyes to drift to the man on the other side. It was too painful. And also too late.
Rumpelstiltskin cried out her name, and she wanted so badly to join him on the other side, but they were lost to each other now. They had to be. This wasn't how she wanted to remember him; the broken man begging for help, for forgiveness, for anything. Tears rolled down her own cheeks, but he couldn't see her any longer. She refrained from breaking down any further, she wanted to be brave. She couldn't stay there, lest his pleas weaken her resolve any more, so she walked. Part of her anticipated Emma or someone to drive out and check up on her, but no one came. For that at least, she was grateful. From the town line to the house she once shared with Rumpelstiltskin, she was alone in the dark; just as she had been for quite some time now.
With a wicked smile and a wolfish features, Jareth watched the girl. The entire pit of goblins sat in silence, for quite some time, as their king starred into his crystal. His knowing gaze never faltered for a second. As Belle walked home alone, she was being thoroughly scrutinized. Her hopes, dreams, wants, fears, and especially her pain - the Goblin King saw it all. She was beautiful, that was plain. However, he'd seen many lovely faces whilst peering into other realms, and he, of all men, was not so simple.
The Goblin King rarely sought to involve himself in the affairs of mortals, unless obligated by a wish. He had, on a few occasions, toyed with them for amusement, but never more than they deserved. He was fair, not cruel. This, however, was a rare opportunity. The Dark One's unrightfully granted power had often rivaled his own. The cowardly imp had too often made the mistake of meddling in affairs other than his own, stealing wishes, and, on occasion, even a child or two. Years ago, Jareth had watched in amusement as a dastardly curse spread across the foreign land. The fool had damned himself in an impossible quest, and for some time he went about his business in peace, unable to so much as locate the whereabouts of his rival. Now, with Rumpelstiltskin conveniently out of the way, was a chance for a bit of retribution. The Goblin King would meddle right back.
Who, if anyone, would be so bold as to torment the Dark One's pet? Well, certainly the Goblin King.
This would be fun.