My Immortal Lover
By Danika Lareyna
Chapter Three
Everything's Falling Into Place
A look of purest horror passed over Jareth's pale face. He raised his eyes from the scene of devastation before him to Sarah's wicked smile. Sweet, lovely Sarah, his Sarah, could she really be so cruel? She waggled her eyebrows at him (1). She could. In a tone of deep disgust, he muttered, "You sank my battleship."
Sarah leapt to her feet and punched the air, startling Jareth until he realized that it was some sort of odd, mortal victory celebration. She crossed her arms and smirked down at him, "Defeated by little Sarah again, Your Majesty? I would have thought that, after the Labyrinth, you would have learned better than to compete against me again."
He turned from her, raising his nose primly. "This pathetic game is nothing compared to my Labyrinth," he replied.
She planted her fists on the edges of the table, leaning across the game and forcing him to look at her. A sort of manic glee shone in her eyes and her wide grin was twisted. Jareth eyed her warily and shifted uncomfortably in his hard, wooden chair. Her voice was tight and far happier than it should be as she said, "Whether it is pathetic or not, you agreed to the terms of our little wager. Do you plan to go back on your words?"
"But Sarah..." he said, sounding whiny even to his own ears.
"But nothing, Jareth!" she exclaimed. "You agreed. If you won we would have spent the camping trip in the woods of the Labyrinth. Now you have to live up to your end of the bet." Her eyes sparkled, "No magic, except what I agree to, for the entire week."
Jareth whimpered.
xXx
"Because we need food and some more gear before we can head out," Sarah replied, looking much put upon. "And no, you cannot just magic it up. I let you poof some Aboveground clothes, so stop whining!"
She had to admit, Jareth looked almost human in the navy t-shirt, black jeans and leather boots. Why everything he wore had to be so tight was beyond her, but she supposed she should just be grateful that there were no ruffles to be seen. He glared out the window, slouched down in his seat with his arms crossed, in a fine pout. "I do not poof things," he muttered. "Moreover, I do not see why I could not have remained at your home while you do this... shopping."
"Simple," she said, "I don't trust you. I know that if Briann or one of her weird friends came home, you'd cause trouble. I really don't feel like trying to talk my way out of another one of your little 'jokes,' Jareth." Visions of the time he had thought it amusing to remove gravity from her room flitted through her mind. While it had been... interesting while he was there, it had lost its appeal when he had returned Underground and left her furniture (and her) floating around the ceiling.
A little voice in the back of Sarah's mind asked her whether she really wanted to take Jareth into the mall, given his sense of humor. Her grip on the steering wheel tightened and she glanced over at him, staring at the passing vehicles from beneath tightly knit brows. She considered offering to let him wait in the car but could not decide if that would be better or worse. Turning her gaze back to the street, Sarah reassured herself that he was just a man now, bereft of his magic.
The little voice in the back of her head laughed at her.
xXx
"You can purchase any of these things?" Jareth asked, eyeing the window displays as they strolled though the mall. It was a rather sad little thing, as malls went. A single floor with shops lining either side of the two long hallways which bisected each other perpendicularly in the middle. There were larger and more impressive malls closer to her home, but Sarah had felt that, for Jareth's first shopping trip, this would be more than enough. He hesitated a moment, taking in with apparent fascination a shop full of lawn mowers. This little mall would be more than enough.
"Sure, you can buy just about anything," she agreed. "If you're rich. Which I'm not. So don't get your hopes up." Sarah shifted, uncomfortably. Everywhere they went people were turning to follow them with their eyes. Jareth acted as if he did not notice, but he was strutting even more than usual, the low heels on his leather boots clacking rhythmically. She felt a blush rising in her cheeks, noticing that he was getting appreciative looks from both female and male shoppers.
"Here," she said, tugging Jareth into their first stop, a sporting goods store. "I'm going to get what we need. Look around but try not to break anything, ok?" His look clearly told her that he did not appreciate being spoken to like a willful six year old. As Jareth headed towards the fishing supplies, which suddenly looked ominous and... pointy, Sarah wondered if it was all really worth the effort. Watching him prick his finger on a fishing hook and stick it in his mouth with a little glare (she was certain that, were he able to use his powers, the bit of metal would have suddenly begun a fascinating new life as a clod of dirt), she smiled fondly and decided that it was.
Sarah had not needed much and within fifteen minutes she had made her purchases: a new cooler, an extra sleeping bag and a large bottle of the strongest sunblock she could find (2). Her eyes had hovered on a red and blue plaid shirt of heavy flannel, picturing it upon the Goblin King, accented by a sweeping black cloak and perhaps one of those hats with the ear flaps. Snickering, she set about searching for Jareth.
Sarah found him contemplating a wall covered in stuffed animal head trophies. Deer, moose, elk and mountain goats glared down morosely though gleaming, glass eyes. "Simply barbaric," he purred, as she stepped up next to him. She nodded her agreement and he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, "Do you think I could convince them to mount a goblin head or two?"
"Jareth!" Sarah exclaimed, "That's horrible!"
"My dear lady," Jareth replied, looking dignified, "Perhaps you have forgotten, but I am the Goblin King. It is my job to be horrible. And, if I do say so myself, I'm quite good at it." He did a little florish which would most likely have looked very impressive and intimidating in a cape but in jeans looked rather ridiculous.
"Well maybe to poor, innocent young girls who accidentally wish away their little brothers, but to your own subjects?" Sarah grabbed his arm in one hand and the cooler (now filled with her other purchases) in the other as she spoke, towing both out of the store. Jareth, in an endless endevor to make her life miserable, hung back enough to make her have to drag him.
"Especially to my subjects," he said. "Maybe a few visual reminders of what I do to those who annoy me too much will keep the other little buggers in line. Yes... I think they would look quite charming in the throne room, or perhaps the dining hall."
Sarah glanced at him over her shoulder, dragging his feet like a petulant child. She smiled; he would never be as wicked as he liked the world to believe but she would not tell him that now. No need to let him know that she was on to his secret shame, that she knew he was actually decent when he forgot himself. Her smile spread to a grin as she wondered how much he would forget himself after a week without magic, sequins, goblins for kicking or decent toilets (3).
Their next stop was a clothing store sporting a wide variety of cheap apparel for men, women and children. The key word, to Sarah's mind, was 'cheap.' She supposed that it would be even more frugal to let him continue magicking Aboveground clothes, but the opportunity to take control of Jareth's wardrobe for a week was far too enticing to pass up. The sales girls got one look at Jareth and their eyes lit up like Christmas had come early. Immediately they were surrounded by offers of fashion advice, complimentary manicures and home phone numbers. Jareth seemed highly amused; Sarah turned them down politely but firmly.
Moments later they were browsing amongst the men's section, Sarah occassionally plucking an item from the racks (by and large marked 'clearance') to add to Jareth's growing pile to be tried on. The Goblin King took one look at the selection, utterly lacking in style or flare, and divorced himself from the procedure, following Sarah around with a disgusted sneer.
One item, casually tossed onto the stack in Jareth's arms, did cause him to react. "Sarah," he said, as she dug through another sale rack, "There is something wrong with these trousers. I believe they have been improperly hemmed."
Sarah glanced back at the article in question and replied, "No, they're just shorts. They're cooler than pants; it's going to be hot up at the lake."
Jareth's voice dropped low and he leaned close to her to whisper, "But Sarah, if I wear this... people will be able to see my knees."
Sarah froze and stared at him in silence for a long moment, until Jareth began to wonder if perhaps she had taken ill. Then, quite unexpectedly, she burst into a rather loud fit of laughter. He stared at her, completely nonplussed, until she managed to gasp, "With the clothes you wear... you're worried about... knees!" At this she disolved into laughter once more, until Jareth thought she may hyperventilate.
Much, much later, when Sarah had finally managed to control the random bursts of giggles which tended to sneak up on her and Jareth had tried on what to anyone else would have been a mammoth amount of clothes but to him was approximately equivalent to a days wardrobe (if less sparkly), they left the store, both laden with more bags than Sarah wanted to think about. She had even managed to convince him to try on the shorts, which he found quite freeing and they ended up purchasing three pairs of. Jareth was also introduced to the concept of underpants, which he found needless and silly, but Sarah insisted.
As they made their way towards the mall entrance, they debated whether or not fur and leather should be considered murder (4), a conversation Sarah would have never expected to share with the King of the Underground. Sarah was preparing to make a scathing and well thought out comeback when she realized that Jareth was no longer walking beside her. Glancing back, she found him standing a few feet to her rear with wide, pathetic eyes and a little pout playing on his lips.
When Jareth made the puppy-dog eyes, Sarah new she was in trouble. Nobody could resist those eyes. With a much put upon sigh, Sarah asked, "What is it, Jareth?"
"Saaarah," he said, sounding for all the world like her little brother when he had his sights on something he knew he was not supposed to have. Jareth pointed to the shop they had just passed and, with a hopeful glimmer in his mismatched eyes, said, "I want an ice cream."
xXx
(1) I cannot picture Sarah waggling her eyebrows at Jareth without cracking up. Oh my.
(2) All that pretty, pale, Goblin King skin looks as if it would crisp black within ten minutes of direct sunlight.
(3) And if it's bad by goblin standards you know it's icky!
(4) Jareth's stance, unsurprisingly, was, "Yes, of course it's murder. But it makes me look smashing so who cares?" Sarah took a slightly more conservative stance.
Virtual cookies to White Rose Whithering who was the first to correctly identify that the title from Chapter One came from Cat People (Putting Out Fire) and Chapter Two came from Let's Dance. Good job to everyone who got them correct. Let the Bowie-love continue, virtual bon-bons to whoever reviews with the name of the song this title comes from.
Also, I am terribly sorry for the sad state of this chapter but I have no spellcheck here at work (yes, I'm at work at 4am on a Friday, and I work in the hospital so I get to see the best of society on nights like these. Pity me.). I will try to remember to edit this when I'm at home and repost, but no promises. Feel free to ridicule my mistakes and, hopefully, prompt me to remember.
