"See, what did I tell you? Underground, safe and sound, just like I promised. I knew I'd be able to get us both back here if I tried enough times." She made Jareth's mouth turn up into a beaming smile. "Less than an hour in your body, and I've already got this whole magic thing mastered. You've got to admit, that takes skill."
"Sheer bloody luck, more like it," Jareth grumbled. He was tempted to give himself another pat-down to ensure his borrowed body was still in one piece, but he didn't think Sarah would appreciate watching him leisurely frisk her person. She was already turning out to be a little too trigger-happy when it came to using his powers against him, and given the delectable contours of his new form, he couldn't deny that his hands might be tempted to wander a little. He stood with those hands clasped before him, at his demure best in the jersey dress and leggings Sarah had cast onto him, resisting the urge to claw at the medieval torture implement she called a brassiere. Such bountiful breasts as he now possessed were simply not made to be caged. It was nothing short of a calamity.
Discomfort aside, he was sure to keep one eye on Sarah, and on his stolen pendant, but the impertinent thief of a woman had already proven shrewd enough to mend the broken chain and secure it about her neck. His only real chance at getting close enough to steal it back would be in seducing her, which would prove a little difficult, given that she was already familiar with all the delights his new feminine form had to offer. It was a sad, wretched thought to realise that the breasts he itched to get his hands on, in one way or another, might not be quite so appealing and arousing to their original owner. Still, that wasn't to say Sarah wasn't above a little curiosity when it came to experimenting …
"Whatever you're scheming, Jareth, you can knock it off right now. Don't think I don't know what I look like when I'm thinking of screwing someone over."
Little do you know, the Goblin King thought, scowling as he was drawn so rudely from his lewd thoughts. He raised his dark brows and spread his hands in a show of innocence – one which he was certain she would see right through. "No schemes – simply a little vexation at being kept in the dark all morning. Now that we're finally here, are you going to enlighten me on what this brilliant plan of yours actually entails?" He kept the come-hither pouting to a minimum as his own suspicious eyes came to narrow at him from across the room.
"Right … Well, the plan's pretty simple. First, we get hold of whichever spellbook you used last night, and you show me the right spell to reverse all of this. I check it over to make sure it's legit, and that there aren't any hidden pitfalls I should be wary of. Provided everything's on the up and up, I'll change us back into our regular bodies. Then, and only then, you'll get your necklace back, and I'll get to go home and work out how to permanently erase the words 'I wish' from my vocabulary. Sound good?"
"Positively delightful," Jareth drawled. "Shall we get started?"
"Oh, do let's," Sarah replied, with a mocking smile in his direction. The smile slowly disappeared as she cast her eyes about his bedchamber. "All right, so … where is the spellbook, exactly?"
Jareth folded his arms tightly beneath his breasts. "It's in the library, where most books tend to reside."
"Great." Unmoved, Sarah mimicked the petulant pose, her forearms resting only a matter of inches away from the precious pendant he so needed. "So, where's the library?"
"Before I lead you there, aren't you forgetting something?" When she only looked at him, Jareth gave a pointed nod towards her groin. "You may have no qualms about strolling around in the nude in my body, but I certainly do. At least give me some dignity before my subjects."
"Oh, right." She had managed to get so wrapped up in flaunting her new powers, she had totally forgotten her current, undressed state. She glanced down at herself before thinking the consequences through, feeling immediate heat blossoming in her cheeks as her eyes raked over her toned chest and belly, and the delicious v cut of her hips. Her eyes snapped back to Jareth's before she could sink any lower. "Okay, so, uh … where are the clothes?"
She quickly headed in the direction his finger pointed her in, blushing all the harder under the weight of his knowing stare. He had caught her looking, but he didn't need to know how much she liked all that she had seen. She flung open a tall wooden armoire and scanned the available options, and soon decided on black pants, a simple, crimson-coloured tunic, and a pair of black leather ankle boots to dress herself in. More magic would definitely be required, as she didn't think she could handle … well, handling her new body, on top of just ogling it. "Turn around," she called back over her shoulder, and heard his incredulous huff.
"Sarah. On my own body, which I've become rather familiar with over the past few decades … what exactly are you hoping for me not to see?"
The man had a point. Still, she kept her back to him while she figured out how to magic the clothes onto her body, hyper aware that she was providing him with a rear view that she had yet to fully appreciate. Finally, dressed and a little less warm in the face, she turned around to present herself. His eyes flicked over her in brisk approval.
"Fine. Now, as I'm expected in a meeting this afternoon, I'd suggest we don't linger too long in the hallways. Should anyone challenge you, a firmly-spoken 'I haven't the patience for this,' or 'Out of my way,' should suffice. I doubt that anyone will persist in speaking to you after that, but …" He frowned. The way the woman was shuffling and squirming on the spot was distracting, luring him from his train of thought. "Should anyone persist, you'll tell them that the Bog of Eternal Stench is eager for new visitors, and keep walking. That ought to silence even that wretched little Hogwoggle, if he tries to cause trouble. Now, if we should come across a particularly amorous rooster, who makes a beeline for your leg, you have to-" He sighed, realising she wasn't paying the slightest bit of attention to him. "Sarah, what did I just say?"
"Huh?" She paused in her fidgeting, but only for a moment. "Oh, uh … something about bees?"
"Indeed. Well, if you want to make it to the library any time soon, try to pay more attention," he said, with a glare. "And would you stop dancing up and down? Gaia's sake, woman, anyone would think you've got some kind of communicable skin disease."
She shot him a sour look, even as she continued to jerk and twitch before him. "I can't help it, it's just … ugh, it's your fucking body, okay? I just … can't … get … comfortable."
He opened his mouth to rebuke her for complaining about such ridiculous things – especially considering how long he'd suffered in silence in her underwear – but when she rolled her hips and bent her knees a little to seek relief, he saw exactly what the problem was. "Ah. Little to the left, love," he instructed, waving a hand at her. Despite his helpful advice, she refused to catch on. He all but threw his hands up in despair when the infuriating woman frowned at him and took an uncertain sideways step. "No. The left, Sarah. To. The. Left."
Her eyebrows knit together into an even deeper look of displeasure. "That was my left, genius, or are directions as messed up here as time and gravity are?"
Jareth sighed and pinched at the bridge of his nose. It didn't feel half as pleasurable on a different body to the one he was accustomed to. "What I mean is, I dress to the left, Sarah. Certain articles of clothing require it to avoid … discomfort." When she still proved a little too slow to catch on for his taste, he rolled his eyes and just made a lunge for her. "Oh, for fu … come here."
"Hey … hey! You get your hand out of there before I cut it off! That is not yours to touch right now, so quit it with the manhandling. You know I can feel everything in this body, right? Jesus!"
The Goblin King scowled, rubbing at the fingers she had swatted so fiercely. "Well, forgive me for trying to help, since you didn't seem to have a clue how to handle things yourself."
"I can handle my own dick, thank you very much! Though to be totally honest, I'm a little scared to even touch it right now, seeing as it took at least ten minutes to get the thing to … to deflate the last time it decided to get a little happy and reposition itself. And before you ask, it was already like that when I woke up. God, no wonder you managed to do something this stupid, with all of your blood constantly rushing south to fill that thing up, instead of your brain!"
Jareth smiled in spite of himself. "I'll choose to take that as a compliment."
Sarah growled. "Oh, you would. Never mind the mess we're in. Never mind trying to get out of it. Let's just turn this into a big ol' dick measuring contest, shall we? Well, if you think I'm swinging the weight of this thing around long enough for you to find some measuring tape, you've got another thing coming."
A gentle creak stopped his retort, and the two of them whirled their heads to find the source of the sound. A very confused, very pale goblin stood in the room's open doorway, a silver breakfast tray in his shaking hands. The goblin's wary eyes moved between the pair of them, and very slowly, as if he were afraid that even the tiniest movement might draw their combined wrath, he licked his scaly lips. "P … P-p-p-puh," he managed to say.
"Spit it out," both Goblin Kings demanded, almost in unison.
The goblin jumped, the tray rattling ominously in his grasp. "Puh-puh-puh-Persnikkety will come back later," he told them, and fetched a nervous bow so deep, the tray's centrepiece – a sturdy metal cafetiere – bowed with him. Steaming hot coffee sloshed over the tray and onto his tiny fingers, and with a shriek of pain, the little goblin let it go. Dishes shattered and crockery jangled against the stone tiles below, milk and honey and porridge raining chaos down all around his feet.
His eyes wide with terror, Persnikkety took one look at the mess, one look at his glowering king and his angry lady friend, and noped the fuck out of there.
Jareth sighed and pinched his nose again. Sarah followed suit. It seemed to feel a little more satisfying in her new body than it ever had in her own.
"So … the library?" she suggested.
"The library," Jareth agreed.
He stepped over the mess in the doorway, and Sarah, hitching up Jareth's skin-tight pants and cursing all things goblin, Goblin King, and Goblin King cock shaped, went after him.
