Jareth's Clothes
So, my first Labyrinth fic. Tell me what you think!
Disclaimer: Yeah, I don't own Jareth, Labyrinth or anything super-di-duper awesome. Sorry:)
The castle beyond the Goblin City was often dirty. Grime smudged the walls; dust collected on every surface and not a single toilet functioned properly. The brave cleaning crew of tiny goblin caretakers often left their careers early after several frustrating years of futility. Even the work of rain could not really wipe the grime and dust from the castle walls, nor remove the coffee and jello stains from the 3 or so Persian rugs that dotted the master's floor. Most of the goblins could have lived with something a little spiffier, but they never dared to voice their concern, unless they wanted a quick, upside down tour of the Bog of Eternal Stench.
The Goblin King liked the mess, however. His name was Jareth, and aside from his personal appearance, he liked a healthy dose of chaos and peanut shells throughout his day. The constant mess reminded him of nothing, which was what he liked; no memories. After all, many of his memories were uncomfortably awkward or did not feature him in his best pants. By making sure nothing could be seen beneath the inch thick layers of grease and pistachio pudding, he was able to never, ever remember being wrong or defeated in any sort of way: life was good.
One rainy afternoon Jareth stood on a platform in front of a 180 degree mirror gazing at himself as a small, purpilish, Judi Dench-esque female goblin fitted him in pants. He looked at himself with an air of satisfaction and smugness. New clothes were his favorite of all friends.
"Ouch!" He gasped, jerking out of the feebly old hands. "Watch the skin!"
"Forgive me your Kingness." She mumbled through a mouthful of pins. She turned to a small basket beside and rummaged around. At last she turned, producing a large spindle of glittery thread. "I'm almost finished with these." She said, indicating that he was welcome to step down.
"Not if I say you're not!" He said his attention still back upon himself. He put a gloved finger to his now pursed lips, eyes tightened in concentration. "They need something…How much glitter do we have left?"
"We used the last shipment on the labyrinth walls and debris." Squawked a familiar voice. A much taller goblin, in banana colored coattails and a tupe hobbled into the room, a clipboard and pen in hand. "We can't get another one for several weeks either. We're too low on goblins." A scaly finger indicated on a chart a steeply falling and very red line. Jareth wasn't one for graphs, but even with its festive coloring he could tell it meant bad business.
"How can we be low on goblins Gobsmith? I thought we got a child sent to us only last Friday." He said, hands resting on hips.
"Yes, but five died in an attempt to clean the lint trap in your dryer." He again indicated to the chart, pointing out a particularly nasty drop.
"Alright then, no more glitter." Winced Jareth. "What have you got in feathers?" He turned his attention back to the old seamstress, who hobbled over to a trunk full of fabric.
"Well, not much...There's this long cape I made a bit back, but you won't like it-"She stopped, suddenly noticing Jareth's facial expression. It was more than desire, more than want: it was sheer lust.
"It is perfect…" He said in a hushed voice. He held up the gaudy network of white feathers, caressing them gently. He bounded towards the mirror, throwing the cape around his shoulders. "This…THIS says it all." Gobsmith and the old seamstress glanced at each other, unsure whether Jareth actually meant that the cape could talk or something else. "And, I could get another pair of pants…in white! Oh, I know!" He through the cape aside and climbed back onto the platform. "They just need to be tighter! Quick, more pins!" His face flooded with ecstasy. Eyes wide with joy, he turned back to the witnesses, who simply stared. "WELL?" The seamstress, finally coming out of her daze, went to work as directed, incoherently mumbling about safety hazards and poking eyes out.
"My King we must discuss the Goblin population."
"Oh, right." Said Jareth, his jubilation turning to annoyance. "Well, how are our prospects for children being wished away?"
"Well, there's been a fifteen percent decrease in parents wishing away their children. Apparently having two people makes it more difficult to reach a decision." Jareth simply nodded. "Single mother-hood is on the rise but so far no luck there. Really, Goblin King I think our best hope is sibling rivalry." He flipped through his notebook and produced another chart, this one a pie chart.
"Wait, siblings?" Jareth turned around to look at Gobsmith, a strange smile crossing his lips. "Didn't I give special powers to someone with a baby brother not long ago? Sandy or Sybil or whatever her name was? The one I fell in love with?"
"Sarah, your majesty?" Sighed Gobsmith. He really didn't approve of his master's affairs. It was always this girl or that and they always wished someone away and always were seduced and always wound up as a Duchess or Lady of the Bog of Eternal Stench. Gobsmith really did not think now was the time for another amor.
"Yes, that's the one!" He smiled, not wickedly, but more a flirtation with badness. "She has a little sister right?"
"Brother, your majesty. His name is-"
"Tommy! "
"Toby. But I really don't think she'll wish him away anytime soon. He's just a baby."
"Oh come now. The little guy drives her insane." With a flick of his hand he produced a crystal orb. Gobsmith looked on nonplused. Jareth's "magic" grew old fast. Especially since he established "Magic show Mondays" and sawed Gobsmith's brother-in-law in half. "Look here." Balancing the ball on his forefinger, he produced an image of a young brown-haired girl, curled up on a comfy chair reading a book. Next to her on the floor sat a bawling baby. "You wouldn't mind if I took little Toby to the Goblin city would you? I bet you'd be very, very grateful…" A funny smile played on his lips, completely unaware of palpable awkwardness.
"Grhumph…Excuse me…Goblin King?" Asked Gobsmith. Jareth sighed and looked away from the crystal.
"Yes, what is it?"
"Even if she does wish Toby away, one baby won't be enough."
"Of course I know THAT!" Barked Jareth. "I have another plan in mind…one that will secure the goblin population for sometime…" Again, the strange smile and sticky tension. Gobsmith took a few steps back and returned to reviewing his charts. In times of sheer bad-goings-on, he preferred to calculate wage-ratios.
"Well," Said Jareth at last, "I think I'll need a few more pairs of pants…and leather!" He rounded on the poor old seamstress, who looked curiously from imposing Jareth, down to her patterns. Finally, she bungled off towards her fabric samples, perusing the leather choices.
Jareth turned back to the mirror. He felt giddy like not time before (no time that he could remember anyway) Not only was he getting some nice new clothes, but with a little luck and a lot of cheating, he might be getting a solution to all of his problems.
Author's note: :D So, What do you think? this is a fairly ruff example with limited editing. I was just too excited to take the time to properly polish it up. Anyway, as many can see I assumed a great many things, all of which you are free to contend with...in a review :) One thing I that may get some raised eyebrows for is Jareth's final little aside. Of course, I'm suggesting his plan involved making baby goblins wih Sarah which might be a little silly. Well, let me know. This was completely for fun and absolutely no seriousness was intended. Cheers!
