Jareth was weak. He was sick in a way that consumed all of his energy and magic, made him feel old, and it was painful. Each time a coughing fit would have him doubling over, his chest and abdominal squeazing tight, he feared when he removed his hand from his mouth he would see blood. The king took a moment of peace by closing his eyes as no blood had flown from between his lips yet.
After nearly every meal he would find himself throwing up what little his appetite would allow him to eat. Jareth could barely stand to go from his bed to his thrown, and so the Goblin subjects were all abuzz. He wasnt there to yell at them, kick them, or threaten them and so they whispered (loudly) their worry amongst themselves.
Somehow he had managed to pry himself from his bed and was currently sat at his window sill, looking out over his kingdom. It was brown and dead looking, just as usual. The kings mix matched eyes caught on a tree near the city gates and noted how the dry, leafless branches swayed brittley in the slight breaze. For the first time, he compaired himself to a tree. It looked as awful as he felt.
A sneer curls his upper lip. Fae dont get sick unless they were dying, so that is what must be happening. Jareth was dying and he blamed it on that girl. It was her fault he was like this. He didnt know how, but it made him just a little satisfied to have something to be angry with her about. Sarah was the bane of his existance and every day he chided himself for favoring her.
A knock on his chamber door interrupted his silent fuming, and he turns to see the heavy door opening. He was surprised to see not a goblin, but a woman enter.
She had long platinum hair that even in a high pony tale brushed her ankles. Her face was narrow with pretty, high cheek bones, and thin purple lips. A purplish blue teardrop jewel was attached to her chin, right underneath her bottom lip. She wore a white and light blue gown that hugged her pale breast, pushing them up so the eye was sure to settle on them. The bust was tight but fanned out at her cinched waist, and the dress hand long sleeves with lace cuffs at her wrists.
"Queen Mizumi, from the Waterlands, a surprise," he greets, standing and taking a bow at his waist.
"Jareth, my love," her voice feathers as she drops into a shallow curtsy. "I came by to see how you were doing. Word has spread that you've fallen ill."
Mizumi closes the door behind her softly while Jareth swallows back his disdain. Would she ever stop persuing him?
Maybe after I'm dead and she is ruling my Labyrinth, he thinks bitterly. Sitting down on the sill again as he just manages to hopd back a cough. "I am just fine," he grinds out between his teeth.
"Is that so? Youre mother has died, what, a year ago? Youre 1,320 years old, and you've yet to take a Fae bride. The council is worried about losing a ruler. You know what happens to our kind who's line has died out."
"And what do you propose," he asks, already knowing, and dreading the answer.
"Well, I've been pining for your hide for a long time, over 100 years, and at first I came here to ask you once more to allow me to be your queen and rule beside you. However, seeing you like this has opened my eyes to exactly how pathetic you really are, and I am no longer interested. I am offering you something else. Marry one of my lovely daughters, Moulin or Drumlin, and still sit on your thrown, or be kicked off as you sit wasting away so that I can come in and take control."
"Either way you win," he laughs, surprising her. "You dont think I believe youd continue to let me rule of my own accord with your daughter as my wife, do you? I may be dying, Mizumi, but Im not dead yet. I will do things my way."
"Youre a fool!" Color flooded Mizumis cheeks, and fushed across her breasts in her sudden rage. "Your Labyrinth is already falling in disrepair! The Council is already asking around to consider letting HADES take control of your kingdom once you are gone! Think of your subjects!"
"What of them? You could care less what happens to them. Leave me alone, Water Nymph. Let me have my peace."
With an angry huff Mizumi raises her arms and a tsunami of water appears in her stead, and then evaporates leaving no evidence the queen ever stood in that spot.
With a sigh, Jareth uses a bit of magic to summon a crystal and he peers into it. Inside was a blonde, choppy haired boy in his early 20's pouring over an essay on his cocomputer. Jareth was slightly surprised the boy wasnt emersed in a video game, as was his usual.
"Young Toby, I havent forgotten you, my boy," he glares. It was an empty threat, but one that always made him feel better. Jareth hadnt visited the Williams' house in over 20 years, and really he had no querral with the boy.
Looking up at the sky, Jareth thought about The Aboveground. It was a lot nicer there than here in the Underground. Maybe his magic would hold him for one last trip. Closing his eyes and concentrating, a sweat breaking out on his brow, Jareth turned into a beautiful white and golden brown barn owl.
Taking off into the sky, he felt lighter than he had felt in the past year. He flew towards the sun and managed to squeeze a little more magic out of himself to transport him from one world to the other, and crash landed in a snow bank much deeper than one glance would have told him.
Despite being freezing now, and involuntarily being flung back into human form, he laid back in the snow and let out a breath of exhaustion, before climbing back to his feat and making his way towards a bridge, just as it started to rain.