Chapter 2, Fate And Fortuity
"Sire? Your majesty?" Said a small Goblin with a distressed huff. It'd been trying to get the King's attention for some time now, but it seemed the King was completely oblivious to his subjects beaconing. "Urgg, Your Majesty?" The creature called again, starting to fidget with worry.
Jareth sat in his throne, with one leg strewn over the other. His stare was cast off somewhere in the distance as he silently tapped his cane against the heel of his boot. Tap, tap, tap. It was a soothing rhythm, one that seemed to clear his mind. Why he needed it, he didn't know. He tried to ignore the echos of the highly unsettled Goblin waiting ever-so impatiently for the King's attention.
After another minute of silence, Jareth turned his head to face his subject, though he said nothing. The Goblin's fidgeting came to a screeching halt once Jareth's gaze fell over it. The creature gulped, eyes growing wide as it waited for its King's acknowledgment.
Jareth's stare was cold and empty, a look that molded perfectly to his stern face. There was an awkward silence as Jareth continued to stare. Tap ,tap, tap. Growing impatient, he chose to break the silence.
"What?" Jareth commanded, though his voice was assertive he couldn't have sounded more tired. The creature jumped, gulping down another nervous breath.
"I am to remind you of today's affairs, Sire." The Goblin stammered, shifting uncomfortably in its position. Most Goblins feared and usually avoided direct interaction with the King. All of the Underground was well aware of the darkness cast in his gaze, and knew that one slip of the tongue was enough to be bogged -or worse. And it was more than apparent that the common choice these days was worse, far worse. This Goblin in particular was tasked with direct interaction with the Goblin King on a daily basis. It was his personal planner. Jareth snickered to himself, wondering how the thing hadn't gone into cardiac arrest by now.
Jareth's blank stare betrayed his amusement. He remained silent, content to make the vile creature squirm in his presence. He found the act of terrifying his subjects a favorite past time, a good outlet, and all he had to do was stare -letting terrifying rumors and past experience do the rest. He kept his carnivorous glare locked with the Goblin's, choosing to drag the nerve wracking experience as long as he could for the poor creature.
The Goblin's eyes darted back and forth, waiting for Jareth's response. After another minute or two, Jareth rolled his eyes. Same pointless games...How tiresome. He grumbled.
"And what are today's affairs?" Jareth asked, ceasing the rhythmic tapping on his foot. The Goblin's tremors started to dissipate, and its stance grew firm.
"You have been invited to attend the annual Harvest Ball, hosted by His Lord Sovereign King Severin of the Eastern Sea Kingdom." Jareth noticed the solidity in the Goblin's voice. It was clear the Goblin had rehearsed the facilitation, wishing to speak it correctly and avoid any possible reprimand. Jareth almost snorted. Why are my advisors such primitive ingrates? He griped.
"Ah, yes. Dear Severin, how could I forget?" Jareth said, leaning forward in his throne. He cast his subject a wicked smile, daring it to test his more than obvious rhetorical question. It was kind of sad, the way he found himself with nothing better to do than torment his poor subjects.
The Goblin's mouth opened and closed, deciding whether or not it should respond. Quickly losing interest in the matter, Jareth turned away from the catatonic Goblin, slumping back in his throne.
"Make sure all matters are seen to in my absence this evening." He said, casting his gaze back to the distant nothing he had been staring at. Damn formalities... He started to groan, feeling a foreboding resentment for the night to come. With a quiet sigh, he once again blocked out the noise coming from his squirming subject, losing his thoughts in vacant dreams. He became a stone after that. His eyes were hard and empty. The steady tapping had resumed against his boot.
The creature jumped up in a flurry, feeling victorious it had so skillfully avoided its demise.
"Of course, Your Majesty. Of course." It spat, before running off into the masses.
Jareth brought his hand to his chin, leaning into it as his arm rested against the arm of his throne. Harvest Ball...When was the last time Severin actually held a harvest? He chided. Just another opportunity for my chivalrous brother-in-arms to flaunt his assets. He thought with a huff.
While Jareth had no true qualms with his neighbor, he couldn't stand the way the Fae king held himself with such haughty grandiose. It was a bit ironic. If there were ever those who thought Jareth to be extravagantly self-assured, they had certainly never met Severin. He was tall, handsome, and very powerful-of that there was no dispute. What gnawed at Jareth was the way he thought himself taller, handsomer, and more powerful than any other creature in both worlds. Though he was a bit arrogant and spoiled, Jareth could acknowledge the fact that his own two feet still touched the ground. The same could not be said for the self-proclaimed angelic deity that was Severin.
His thoughts turned to what he could expect that evening - fantastical shows and overly done up participants seeking the purities -or impurities- of pleasure and spectacle, not to mention the ring of secret politics, alliances and back-stabbing, and then there was the ever questionable food. He could go on and on laying out all the different pessimistic hypothesis for what was to come. But it was still a party, and oh how Jareth loved a good party. At least there will be plenty to drink. He reassured himself. And plenty of women to taste. He thought, a sly smile creased his lips.
No matter how bad the night may progress, Jareth knew it would end with a hot and writhing woman (or two) beneath him (and/or over him). That seemed to be the one constant in his life; In the Underground, a gathering meant a party, and a party meant women, and there wasn't a Fae woman in the Underground that could or would resist the advances of the illustrious Goblin King. After bringing a few key memories to mind, he found himself nibbling on his thumb with a snake-like grin spread from ear to ear.
With more cheerful thoughts circling his brain, Jareth turned his attentions to glance at the clock hanging on the wall. 6:35. Very casually, he rose from his seat, and with one swoop of his cape disappeared into yet another night of political accord and social pandemonium.
Three hours, one feast, five women, a hundred greetings, and too many drinks to count, later-
"Jareth!" Came a bounding exaltation.
Jareth turned his head, a reaction to the call of his name. His lips curled in a snarl, and his genuine smile became strained, the round of women he'd been entertaining utterly forgotten.
"Jareth, my dear neighbor, I am so glad you have attended my little soiree, my dear friend!" A man was quickly approaching him. Jareth's back stiffened slightly, and turned his body to face his pursuer. The man's smile beamed as he neared, and Jareth achingly reciprocated. Dear Gods...Why did I think I could remain inconspicuous? His thoughts rumbled. Wait...did I even try? He gave a sardonic smirk, quickly reliving the past few hours. Unfocused by his daydreams, he failed to notice the man was now standing directly in front of him. Jareth's grimace widened once the man placed his hands directly on Jareth's shoulders. "Enjoying the festivities I hope?" The man asked.
He was tall, taller than Jareth, and had soft bronze colored hair that swept in a tame mess across his forehead. His eyes were pale, and his teeth were sharp. There was a split second of tension in the air as each regarded the other warily. Jareth snapped out of whatever daze he was in, his smirk curling up on one side.
"Severin." Jareth said passively, moving out of reach. The stark Fae took half a step back, seeming to regain his composer.
"Apologies, I seem to have forgotten you are not the affable type." Severin said, his eyes a bit glazed. Jareth stifled a laugh, having to agree with his irritating neighbor. No, I am certainly most un-affable to you. Jareth's sneer grew menacing, but Severin failed to notice. "Oh, that's right, you prefer claws to paws." Severin said in a mocking tone. Jareth failed to hide his scowl. " Oh, don't look so offended. Tell me, are you enjoying the celebrations? Have you tried the wine? I have." He continued with a wave of the hand, dismissing their previous course of conversation. Jareth huffed.
"My dear friend, no matter what the horrid or spectacle, you can rest assured that I will always completely and thoroughly enjoy myself." Jareth said with wicked gleam. And just like that, the air in the room returned to normal. Severin let out a tipsy laugh, giving Jareth a firm pat on the back. Jareth returned a victorious sneer. "As to your question of wine, I believe I could do for another." He added on, lightening the mood even further.
Taking a step to the side, Severin turned his nose in the air and snapped his fingers, ushering refreshments. He then turned back to Jareth with a wicked smile and a dark gleam in his eye.
"So, how goes your Labyrinth?" Severin asked through gritted teeth. Jareth tensed slightly, but kept it hidden.
"Same as it always has been." Was his short reply. Severin's eyes lit up with amusement.
"Still trifling with humans then?" He asked, quirking an eyebrow. Jareth gave a quick huff, preparing himself for Severin's routine lecture on the perpetual submission of mortals.
"That is my duty." Jareth spoke, soft and clipped. "I am the Goblin King, after all." He added on. Severin gave a light chuckle.
"Your duty, yes yes. If it were my duty I would take all those forsaken wished aways and make them just that -forsaken. I could use more slaves, I'm sure neither of us would object to repopulating the infantry. Goblins are just so careless these days." The second half of Severin's statement held a venomous hiss, a clear disapproval of the way Jareth chose to handle his obligations.
"The Underground does not need more bumbling idiots. I see no point in turning the humans into them, they can be much more useful in their current state." Jareth said matter-of-factly, attempting to rectify Severin's aversion.
"How right you are." Severin said after a moment, his voice reduced to a purr. Jareth noticed his gaze was no longer directed at him, but past him. He started to turn, and follow Severin's gaze when a dark blur flashed by him.
Jareth looked up at Severin once more. He was no longer looking at Jareth, his gaze was cast down, and an insidious smirk danced across his face. Jareth's eyes soon followed, to find a dark haired creature standing patiently to the side.
Jareth cocked his head to one side, trying to register just what he was seeing. It was a woman. A human. Her head was cast low. The mass of her midnight hair cascaded over her shoulders and in front of her face, making him unable to decipher her appearance. She wore a simply servants dress, beaten and battered with the wear and tear of servitude, though it was grey with silver trim to match the theme of the ball. She stood silently, obediently, waiting for Severin's command. She held a silver tray in her hands, dawned with two glasses of wine.
"In this instant I must agree with you, dear friend. I find this one much more useful to me as a human." Severin laughed, taking one of the glasses from the tray.
Jareth reciprocated and took the lone glass one the tray, firmly intrigued, not so much by the servant that stood before him, but the fact that she belonged to Severin -and he hadn't killed her yet. How...strange.
"Severin, I must say, it is quite unlike you to indulge in mortal servitude. It's almost unbecoming." He chided, lifting the glass to his lips and taking a sip. Severin gave another laugh.
"True, perhaps I'm having some kind of midlife crisis." Severin kidded, rolling his eyes and his hand in unison. Jareth's eyes were on Severin, but his attentions were kept on this mysterious creature that had not moved a muscle. "But..." Severin started, his eyes halting on the dark haired figure. "As this is such a rare occasion, may we take note of such a specimen. Girl, address your King." Severin commanded, his eyes were glazed with something dark. Jareth watched with intrigue.
Very slowly, the dark haired woman's head began to rise. The tray lowered in her grasp, and her back straightened just a bit. Jareth's eyes narrowed as the hair fell from her face.
Jareth's breath hitched in his throat, and if his body tensed he hid it well. Her wide green eyes grew wider, and her mouth gaped open in shock.
"J-Jareth?" She woman whispered, utterly frozen in place. The surprise in Jareth's eyes froze over to an icy stone in an instant. Whatever was about to happen in the next moment, he needed his emotions to be no part of it. What in the... S-
It seemed an eternity past, as his ice cold stare bore into her broken eyes. Jareth's mind didn't have enough time to even process the enormity of what had just happened when a pained shriek filled his ears, ripping him back to reality.
Snapped out of whatever daze he was in, Jareth was able to register Severin's hand clawing into the nape of the woman's hair, jerking her up to the tips of her toes. Jareth stood, gaping once again, the sound of her cry strangling him. That voice...That cry...Why does it sound so familiar? His mind trailed to something deep inside, something that had been haunting his nights and plaguing his days for months now. It...It was you? Jareth's eyes widened slightly.
Needing to take action, Jareth forced his revelations to the back of his mind. His body noticeably tensed and his fists clenched as the hand tangled in the woman's hair tightened, making her wince. She brought her hands up to her head in hopes of easing some of the pain. Severin gave an amused sneer, lifting her up off the ground so he could whisper in her ear. Her chest heaved from the strain, and tears pricked the corner of her eyes.
"How dare you address a King with such commonality. You will show respect wench." He sneered, before releasing his grip on her, and watching her fall to the ground.
Jareth stared, caught somewhere between shock and awe, watching as the girl curled into a crumpled heap at their feet. Placing her hands firmly on the stone floor in front of her, she bowed her head low, forcing back the tears. A look of discomfort flashed across Jareth's face, seeing the way her body trembled.
"Please, forgive me." She stammered. It was all Jareth could do not to take a step back, or foreward.
"Please forgive me?" Severin sneered sounding utterly appalled with her response, and giving her a hard shove with his boot. Jareth winced at the way she recoiled in front of him.
"Please, forgive me, Your Majesty." She spat, curling her knees under her. Jareth's eyes were locked on the sorry scene, failing to notice the look of utter contentment on Severin's face.
"That's better." He said softly, caressing almost. His gaze darted up to Jareth. "She still needs some work, but she'll get there." Jareth's bewildered gaze darted up to meet the snakes grin and menacing eyes of Severin's utter amusement.
Wrangling every ounce of deception he had, Jareth cocked his head to one side and returned Severin's malicious stare.
"How...interesting." Jareth said with a sneer of his own. "Tell me, are you attached to her?" He asked, tilting his head to the side and letting his gaze casually travel over the trembling heap on the floor. Severin's brow twitched, offended almost, and clearly caught off guard.
"Attached? God's sakes no." He said, disgust lain thick in his voice. After a moment, he continued. "Why do you ask?" He asked, sensing something spark between them. Jareth's stance became dominating.
"Since you are unattached, you wouldn't mind selling her to me would you?" Jareth asked getting straight to the point, his eyes firmly locked with Severin's. Both men noticed the woman's trembling come to an instant halt, but neither made point.
"Tell me, Jareth, why exactly do you want her?" The way he annunciated his sentence sparked a new tension in the air. Jareth gave a huff, giving way to nothing.
"I find a certain amusement in mortals. A different kind of -loathing. Something of which you are incapable to have any understanding of. You seem to have broken her in well enough, that makes my job less straining and more...fun." Jareth's voice was a dark purr, and his eyes reflected the same dark intent that shone in Severin's.
Severin's eyes darted from Jareth to the girl, and back to Jareth.
"And what exactly are you willing to pay for...this?" He said, referring the the petrified mortal laying on the marble floor. Jareth's brow twitched, their eyes testing one another.
"A months trade of Goblin silks." Jareth bid, his lips curled in a snakes grin. There was a pause.
"From the look in your eye it would seem you are undoubtedly fervent in acquiring this one. I think you can do better than that, neighbor." Severin called. Jareth's tongue ran along the backs of his teeth. Tricky game dear neighbor...Jareth's thoughts hissed.
"And a shipment of ore from the royal mines." Jareth raised. Severin's own brow twitched, clearly amused and tempted to push his limits yet again. "That's as high as I'll go. After all, she is a mortal. She won't last very long." He added quickly, giving a scowl of disgust, and sneering down at the poor girl, undoubtedly appealing to Severin's sense of revulsion.
The girl's arms started to buckle, bringing a smirk to Severin's face.
"You drive a hard bargain Goblin King, but I suppose I could do without one more mortal disgracing my presence by their very existence." Severin said. Jareth's sneer widened, but not for the reasons perceived by Severin.
"It is my honor to prevent the contamination of your good presence." Jareth replied, with just a hint of sarcasm. Severin snorted, turning his attention to the mortal in question.
"Rise girl." Severin demanded, yanking the girl up by her hair. Jareth managed to hide his flinch. "Look Sarah, say hello to your new master." He said tenderly, as if trying to sooth a child. He then grabbed her chin and forced her eyes to look upon Jareth's. The Goblin King's expression was stone, revealing nothing. His eyes bore into hers, and then, the corner of his mouth curled in a dastardly sneer.
"Sarah." He said. His voice was a low purr, as if the word was a revelation that had never graced his lips before. And, reveling in the way her name rolled off his tongue, Jareth couldn't stop the wicked smile from spreading across his face.