Chapter 2: It's a present.
The next time the goblins appeared in Sarah's closet (just around bedtime on a Friday night), they brought a long gray box with them.
"Here Lady," said Ignor, holding the box out to Sarah. "From the King."
Sarah looked at the large package rather dubiously. Part of her was somewhat…excited…that the Goblin King had sent her a package. The other part was vaguely terrified about what it would contain. She touched the velvety soft gray wrapping cautiously, and tried to ignore the dirty handprints all over the box.
"It's a present Lady!" said the goblin wearing stripy blue socks.
Sarah snorted. "It's not a crystal, is it?"
Ignor shook his head till his sieve hat fell over his eyes. "It's better!" The goblins nodded.
Sarah took a deep breath. Her presents from the Goblin King to date had included a trick snake and hallucinogenic fruit. He wasn't exactly Santa Claus. Though a wistful little inner voice said there was that white ballgown…. Sarah shook her head. She had half a mind to ignore the package completely…until she looked down into the excited, expectant eyes of the goblins before her. Sighing, she rolled up the sleeves of her oversized blue pajama top, and cautiously opened the lid, half expecting the Goblin King himself to come springing out in all his tight-pant, glittery glory. When nothing happened, she looked into the box and blinked in surprise. Inside, she found a shiny black feather duster. She picked it up and peered at it closely.
"Hmm," she said thoughtfully, "these look a lot like chicken feathers. I hope no-one lost a pet to make this."
Ignor shook his head. "They came from Rosalinda's tail."
Sarah looked at the duster a little dubiously. "Well thank Rosalinda for me."
As Sarah was putting the duster back into the box she noticed a card written in a strong black scrawl. She picked it up and began to read as the goblins jumped out of the closet and begun to enact merry mayhem in her bedroom.
"Dear Sarah,
Forgive my goblins for stealing your "fluffy killing stick". In most circumstances, I would have demanded that they return it to you immediately, but regrettably it has been used to fondle most of the goblin population during that infernal tickle game you taught them, so I suspect that it is no longer sufficiently hygienic to function as a cleaning tool. Instead, please accept this substitute that the goblins made for you. Apparently the feathers came from the current chicken-toss champion so it is quite an honorable duster."
Sarah looked up at Ignor. "Rosalinda is the current chicken-toss champion?"
Ignor nodded. "Four seasons running," he said proudly. The rest of the goblins nodded happily.
"Well then thank you for the gift." Sarah thought for a moment. "Though what about the shoes that you scamps stole?"
Sarah turned the card over.
"Regrettably, I was unable to separate Skeep from your fine pair of shoes. Unfortunately, he considers himself something of a fashion trendsetter. Thankfully, he almost fell headfirst into the bog while wearing your footwear so I believe that stilettos will be one trend that my sheep-like subjects will be reluctant to follow. Skeep has quite the eye for beauty so I think it best that you keep him well away from your shoe collection and any other more 'personal' items".
Sarah paused. What does he mean by personal items? Sarah looked up to see Skeep eyeing her underwear draw longingly. "Oh no you don't!" She quickly grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and shut the drawer. She put him on the floor and watched him pat the rug quite contentedly. Sarah turned her attention back to the card.
"To compensate for the loss of your shoes, please accept these in exchange. They are far more functional than the ones you lost, and you'll find that they barely ever scuff, even when kicking the heftiest of goblins. Fond regards, Jareth, the Goblin King."
Sarah looked at the bottom of the box and pulled out a pair of black, knee-length, leather boots very similar to those worn by the Goblin King. Quickly stepping out of her fluffy pink slippers, she pulled on the boots. She had to admit, they were exceptionally fine. Soft, supple, and (dare she say it), just the littlest bit sexy. Now she knew why the Goblin King strutted.
The goblins looked at her pace the floor in her new boots and applauded enthusiastically. Ignor smiled. "Now you look like the King!" The rest of the goblins nodded.
Sarah smiled mischievously and grabbed a snowglobe from the top of her shelf. She held it up and struck her best Goblin King pose. She looked down at Ignor. "I bought you a gift," she said in a clipped English accent.
Ignor took the snowglobe, looking at it in awe. "What is it?"
Sarah raised one eyebrow and made her tone indifferent. "It's a crystal, nothing more. Do you want it?"
The goblins started rolling around the floor in laughter. Skeep teetered in his stilettos. "Lady's like King, but she's a girl!" he laughed, falling backward, pink heels wiggling in the air.
Ignor struck a kingly pose with the snowglobe. "Nothing nothing tra la la," he boomed. The goblins and Sarah started shrieking with glee.
Sarah wiped a tear from her eye and ushered them all out to the kitchen. "Let me introduce you fine fellows to chocolate cookies."
Rosalinda the chicken stared mesmerized at her reflection in Jareth's highly polished boots. She was curious—was the particularly fine-looking chicken staring back at her a friend or foe? Foe, she decided (after all, you don't become chicken-toss champion four seasons running without developing a vicious competitive streak). Just as Rosalinda decided to give this strange chicken a good strong warning peck, a hand shot out and closed around her throat. Soon she was staring into the mismatched eyes of the Goblin king.
"I think not, my pet," Jareth purred at the rather stunned Rosalinda. "Not unless you want me to toss you into the bog well before the next competition."
Rosalinda uttered a muted squawk. Jareth tilted his head, looking at the rather unrepentant chicken. Even as he held her in a throat lock, Rosalinda looked as though she would happily try to peck out Jareth's eyes.
"Such disrespect to your sovereign, Rosalinda. I expected better from you." Flicking his wrist, he tossed her across the room. "Think of it as training for the next contest."
Sitting on the back of the throne, Squeak watched Rosalinda make a graceful arc through the air as she flew across the room. "She has nice form."
Jareth looked at Rosalinda critically as she hit the ground in a flurry of feathers. "Her landing needs work."
Rosalinda threw Jareth a black look. Jareth pursed his lips thoughtfully. "She doesn't like me." He raised his voice. "The feeling is quite mutual, Rosalinda, I assure you," he said, addressing the retreating chicken. Jareth laughed uproariously. He stopped and looked at Squeak. "Well?"
Squeak dutifully started laughing so hard that he fell backwards off the throne. Jareth peered over the back of the throne to watch Squeak scrape himself off the floor. Mid smirk, his attention was caught by a tug on his trousers. He looked down at Skeep, who was holding out a package.
"From Lady," said Skeep, wiping his nose on the back of his sleeve.
Jareth noticed that in addition to the pink stilettos, Skeep was wearing a bright red tea cosy on his small pointed head. Jareth tried to suppress his smile beneath a stern look. "Really Skeep! Pink shoes, red hat—it clashes terribly."
Skeep looked mortally offended. His dirty little hand reached up and stroked the tea cosy on his head till his smile returned.
Jareth just shook his head and took the package from Skeep's outstretched hand. Frankly, Jareth was quite surprised to receive a package from Sarah. As he began to open the wrapping, he noticed that his heart rate quickened. He paused. Odd. He felt…excited. How long had it been since he had felt excited? You know the answer to that old boy, he thought ruefully.
Just as he began to open the package, he noticed that most of his goblins were huddled, heads down, in a circle and positively cooing in wonder. He carefully put the package on his throne, stood up, and walked up behind the transfixed group. Although his footsteps were rather loud on the dirty stone floor, the goblins remained oblivious to the Goblin king as he stalked up behind them, so entranced were they with the object in Ignor's hand.
Jareth waited till he was directly behind them and boomed pleasantly, "Last one to bow down to me gets thrown into the bog."
"AHHH!!!" screamed the goblin hordes, desperately crashing into each other as they attempted to throw themselves onto the ground.
Jareth laughed heartily and noticed that Ignor was still clutching the object of interest in his hand. Jareth strode over to him, bent down, and took the object. "Ignor, what do you have this time?" he said, peering at the snowglobe.
Ignor and the rest of the goblins got up from the ground and surrounded Jareth.
"It's from the Lady," Ignor said reverently. "It's magic!"
Jareth looked at him crossly. "This isn't magic, this is plastic."
Ignor shook his head and took the globe back from Jareth. "Look, majesty. Now it is sunny," he said pointing to the little beach scene inside the globe, with its sandy beach and sunbathing tourists. "But now," he said, shaking the globe, "it is snowing."
Sure enough, snow swirled around the people sunbathing on the beach.
"OOOOoooooooooowwww magic!" said the surrounding goblins.
Jareth snatched the globe back from Ignor. "This," he said, speaking slowly, just as you would to a child, "is not magic. You can't make it snow in," he peered inside the globe, "Tijuana by shaking this plastic toy. This is a cheap souvenir. Now this," he said, turning his wrist till a crystal appeared in the palm of his hand, "this is real magic." Jareth threw the crystal high into the air. As it hit the roof of the throne room, small flakes of snow began to fall.
"Yeahhhhyy!!! Snow!!" cheered the goblins.
"Just like Tijuana!" yelled Skeep.
Jareth retreated back to his throne to watch the joyous chaos. He couldn't help but smile as goblins ran around the room, trying to catch snowflakes on their tongue. Mostly they failed and ended up tripping over each other and the chickens. Jareth turned his attention back to the parcel Sarah had given him. The wrapping was white with small embossed white shells. He ran a black-gloved finger over the raised design and then pulled off the paper. He first noticed the blue envelope nestled on the white tissue paper. Opening it, he pulled out a letter in Sarah's careful handwriting.
"Dear Goblin King,
Thank you for the remarkable replacement duster. I'm sure that my furniture will feel rather privileged to be dusted with a four-time chicken-toss champion. The boots are lovely too. They have given me some surprising insights into your personality."
What does she mean by that? he thought.
"And they are so comfortable—I find myself not wanting to take them off, even to go to bed"
At this point, Jareth was struck with a rather pleasant image of Sarah wearing only her black boots and a smile. He shivered a little but blamed it on the snow.
"You really didn't have to replace the shoes—I actually think that Skeep looks far better in them than I do. I guess you were right—you can be generous." Jareth smirked at that.
A mighty crash caused Jareth look up from the letter. The hastily arranged chicken sled races were not going well. Several of the contenders were dizzily trying to regain their balance after a particularly nasty collision. "Careful now," he said peering at the wreckage. The goblins all stopped and stared at him, open-mouthed at his concern. He sighed. "Fine then, loser gets kicked into the bog." The goblins cheered and went back to tethering the wandering chickens to the sleds.
Jareth went back to his letter. "So, to say thanks, please find enclosed a box of double chocolate cookies. They're for the goblins."
"The GOBLINS!" he fumed. "I give her the finest pair of custom-made leather boots in the Underground and she gives gifts to the GOBLINS?! You can be so cruel, Sarah!" He threw the letter away, dejected. After a minute, he looked down at the letter on the floor. He tapped the bridge of his nose for a moment, then reached down for it, picked it up, and continued reading.
"If you ever find that you need a moment of peace and quiet, just hold up the box and ask who wants a cookie. Trust me, it's like magic. Give it a try."
Jareth snorted. The cookies would have to be drugged to get the cretins to shut up and give him a moment of peace.
"The goblins are welcome to visit anytime, but please ask them to leave Rosalinda at home—it took me ages to clean the feathers out of the couch. Kind regards, Sarah. P.S. The book of puzzles is for you."
Jareth smiled broadly. He pulled out the puzzle book and flicked through the pages. There were word puzzles, and crosswords, and best of all, mazes. Deliciously twisted mazes. Jareth rubbed his hands in glee. Just then, there was a ridiculously loud crash and Jareth was forced to duck as goblins were thrown through the air.
"That's it," Jareth yelled, reaching into Sarah's package. "Who wants a cookie?"
The effect was immediate. Suddenly, the goblins scrambled to sit cross-legged on the floor, perfectly silent, and held out their hands. Jareth looked at them in shock. Sarah was a genius. He quickly handed out the cookies and went back to his book of puzzles.
"Now you precious thing," he said, turning to a particularly difficult maze, "prepare to be conquered."