"I've brought you a gift…"
"Firstly, you can't just barge in here – on a sleeping woman – and expect to just get your way!" Sarah said, prodding the Goblin King in the shoulder. "My home, my rules."
Jareth looked around the dingy kitchen with a sour face, "I would hardly call this a home."
Sarah snorted rather unexpectedly. Jareth eyed her. "Well, excuse me, Highness, but not everyone has a castle to call home." She looked around her well-loved flat, "I like it," she said. She prodded him again, hard. "And I didn't have your personal tastes in mind when I got the place, so forgive me if it doesn't suit."
Sarah had already sauntered away from him, hips wagging unintentionally. Jareth couldn't help but watch how they moved with greedy eyes. He knew how hard she was trying to hide the fact that he was making her uncomfortable, hot and bothered. Or at least, she was trying to look immune to it. She was failing miserably.
"Secondly," she said, spinning around to face him fully, her index finger wagging in front of her, "you will stop with the glitter. You've already made a mess of the kitchen, so that's fair game. But, no damn glitter anywhere else. Is that understood?"
Jareth rolled his eyes, "Perfectly." He folded his long arms across his chest. This liaison wasn't going exactly how he had planned. He was supposed to show up, talk as little as possible, grab Sarah and take her back to the Goblin Kingdom…sorting out this entire war-fiasco. He had dabbled with the idea of giving her to the high council, as a diplomatic gift of sorts. Then, his kingdom would be safe, he would be restored and Sarah would be punished…and oh, how he wanted to see her punished. Instead, he had been assaulted twice; once by a rouge bed sheet, another by a green, hollow pig. Now, he was currently being scolded. It seemed that Sarah was no longer the naïve teenager, brash and innocent. No, now she was a women. Quite a capable woman, too. This was going to be very interesting…
Jareth brushed the excess glitter from his sleeves. It flittered down to the glittery spoil heap on the strange, spongy flooring. Deciding to be deviant, Jareth flicked his wrist ever so slightly to the left, making the glitter land onto an unspoiled patch of wood. In another room. He watched mischievously as Sarah's pink cheeks inflamed at the sight. She moved forward, her arm out stretched, trying to grab his wrist. To stop him. Instead, he grabbed hers and squeezed it gently. Sarah gasped faintly at the contact, looking up at him with surprised eyes.
"This is no game, Sarah," he said, tracing faint patterns around her delicate wrist. "You either obey me, or not. I will abide by your silly rules, but I will have my price." At the mention of price, Sarah pulled her wrist from his grip with a force that surprised even Jareth.
She held her arm against her breast and rubbed it with her untouched hand. Soothing it. "I do not bargain with liars," she said with narrowed eyes. He could almost believe that she hated him.
Jareth laughed, "Good thing, then, as I rarely lie."
"No, you just causally drug people…and then lie to them." She almost spat at him.
Jareth wanted to grin, but he refrained. Now would not be the time, Sarah was almost done with him. If she repealed the call, he would be forced to leave. However, as always, she had to say the right words. Like a vampire without an invitation, Jareth was bound by certain metaphysical laws that he was powerless against. Repealing a summoning was one of them. However, only until a bargain had been met. Then, and only then, did Jareth have choice. Not many people knew this, and that's the way he liked it. Wishing away a child, however, was different. It was part and parcel of the Goblin Realm. Refusing a wished-away child was bad enough, subversion at the most, to lose a wished-away child was unthinkable.
Likewise with Sarah, the summoning was different. He had already felt the decade old bond alive between the two of them, when he had arrived at the theatre. Even then he could feel it as the pain slipped from him as he drew nearer to her. Even now, the agony he had felt was a dull ache inside his chest. Rising and falling with the beat of his heart, with the blood pumping in his veins. When he touched her…oh, the relief was immediate. It flooded through him, filling him a release so great it fogged his mind. If he could, he would never be without it…without her.
No, his only choice was to lie. Unbeknownst to her, he needed Sarah. Not only as a balm for the pain which racked his body frequently, often leaving him incapable of preforming his Kingly duties. Like actually ruling his kingdom, controlling his goblins…preventing a war. Damn it.
That brought him full circle to his current problem, who was staring at him as if she had just swallowed a hundred fire-breathing dragons. "Oh, yes, that," he said with a click of his tongue, "That was just for fun."
"Fun?" Sarah said, disbelieving, "FUN? You call drugging someone fun!?"
"I don't like that tone. I didn't 'drug' you like some sort of hooligan goblin, Sarah." He snorted at the comparison. "I was biding my time."
Sarah rubbed furiously at her face. Jareth didn't like that, it looked like she was going to rub the skin right off. "Will you stop that, Sarah," he said stoutly. When she didn't obey, he grabbed her hands and pulled them away from her reddening face, "Desist."
He was still holding her hands while she spoke, "Biding your time?" Her voice was faint.
"Yes," he said plainly, almost softly.
"For what?" Not so faint.
Jareth sighed. Did he really have to spell everything out? Sarah waited, looking at him with a face mixed with fury and patience. Take about a living oxymoron. It was an incredibly difficult mix. He spoke, "It was hardly private." was all he said. Well, it hadn't been.
"It was private enough for you to drug me!" she shouted, barely controlling the level of her voice.
"We have already established that I did not 'drug' you," Jareth said pinching the top of his nose between his two fingers.
Sarah tapped her chin, twice, "I think impersonating a medical professional and injecting in a vile of enchanted peach juice into someone's arm, constitutes as drugging someone!"
"Hm." Jareth sounded unconvinced, "It was the only way to remain undetected."
"Undetected from whom? I was already expecting you…" Sarah trailed, "Oh, you mean—"
"And the penny has dropped…" Jareth said with an exaggerated sign as he leaned against the doorframe.
"Don't insult my intelligence, Goblin boy."
"Goblin boy!? I, madam, am no—"
Sarah waved her hand back and forth, "Yes, yes, I know…You're the all-powerful monarch, all must bow to you. Got it." Sarah shrugged. "So, you had stage fright," she said, watching with glee at how Jareth scowled at the choice turn of phrase, "Still, that's still no excuse to prescribe someone peach juice against their will. I don't think I'll ever get over the hooky-kooky visions it gave me."
Jareth's head shot up, making his snipped 80's glam-rock hairstyle shake. "Whatever do you mean, dear Sarah?" That had him interested. The peach juice had made had no enchantment for visions this time. No, he had made it out of Upperworld peaches. Even if they had been blasted with Underworld magic, there was no way it could have enabled visions. That had to be all Sarah.
If the Goblin King had ever given Sarah strange looks before, this had to be the most damaging. Jareth could tell that Sarah was squirming underneath his curious gaze, but he didn't waver. His otherworldly eyes bore into hers, until she gazed down at her bare feet. Even then, he continued to look at her. "Sarah?" he asked, "I've never been a patient man."
She almost looked like she was going to hit him, or at least try to, again. He would welcome it if she did. He thought about how he would do it, how he would deflect her hand, take her by the waist, grab her neck roughly so her lips where inches away from his…
Sarah was speaking. Like he had said, he wasn't a patient man, but that would have to wait. "They were just illusions, mostly things I had seen or felt back in the…in the…labyrinth." She stumbled over the last word, like she had something caught in her throat.
"Like what? Tell me," he said.
"Will you stop demanding things? It's giving me a headache." She rubbed her forehead, hard, back and forth. Jareth wanted to move her fingers away and replace them with his own, just to stop her from possibly bruising her soft, pale skin.
"Very well," he assented with relief as she moved her hand away and tucked it into her garment pocket. "You are the Queen here, in your home, I shall give you that. However, back in the Underground—"
"Who said anything about going to the Underground?" She sounded almost appalled by the prospect. Jareth tried not to let her obvious revulsion sting, too much.
"That is neither here nor there," he said, getting slightly annoyed. "Stop avoiding the subject and answer."
Sarah looked abashed. She mumbled some nonsense about a pot calling a kettle black, and looked down at her nervously entwined hands. "They weren't exactly visions. They felt real – too real at times. I could feel them, smell them, see them. Fireys, false alarms. They blocked out my vision, beckoning me forward. I'd felt like kind of pull before, so I knew peaches had to be involved." Jareth almost interrupted, but she shook her head and carried on, "I could taste them…and I wanted more. I felt something luring me in, deeper into the dream. It was like the glass bubble at the…" She stumbled, tucking her hair nervously behind her ears, "…the ball. I knew I had to get out. So I did."
"How?" he asked, contemplating.
"I don't necessarily believe that's any of your business," she said finally.
But Jareth already knew, the boy. Toby. It was obvious really. Sarah's flat was a clear enough indicator that the boy lived, that he was around frequently. Jareth highly doubted that Sarah had any interest in the numerous toys and contraptions that lay around the main room. Or perhaps she did… Play with your toys and your costumes. Forget about the baby.
She still cared for the child. He could use that to his advantage.
He was about to open his mouth, ready to speak, when Sarah beat him to it. A very annoying habit, Jareth thought, which must be corrected.
"I have answered most of your questions, Goblin King, yet you haven't answered mine. And since we clearly can't agree to one line of questioning, how about we take turns?"
He nodded and agreed. It seemed this Sarah was a diplomat – with a penchant for violent outbursts. She would do well in the Goblin Kingdom. As soon as he thought it, Jareth pushed it out of his mind. He waved his hand, faking boredom, "Go on."
"Why were you late?" she asked.
"Let's not tread on old ground, shall we?" he said, "You disappoint me, Sarah, I had thought you more original than that." Jareth smiled, trying to charm his way out.
"Answer the damn question." No nonsense.
This was preposterous. He was King, he didn't need to answer any question if he didn't want to. "Sire, when will the crops be harvested?" Ignore. "Highness, the chickens have escaped, what do we do?" Sigh. "Do you accept the issue of war that has been declared?" Walk away.
Sarah didn't look impressed, "You'll get nothing from me, if you don't answer the damn question."
Blowing an errant lock away from his face, Jareth leaned against the doorframe with his back. It was oddly satisfying when it clicked, releasing the built up tension. "I was indisposed."
Jareth expected Sarah to shout, to frown, to do anything than what she actually did. She moved towards him, slowly. His breath involuntarily hitched in his chest. She was very close to him. Sarah stood at the other side of the doorframe, a hair's breadth between the, and uttered the one sentence that could truly undo him, "With the war?"
Jareth became angry, and quick. Even in the face of such innocence, he could not control his erratic anger. He could feel the blood being to rush quickly into his veins, the mad fog clinging to his vision. He clenched his fists tightly, ground his teeth so viciously he could taste blood. He was sure he was breathing harder too. Someone had told her… He tilted his head and scowled. When he spoke, it was dangerously quiet, "How do you know that, precious one?" It was not a kind nick-name. It felt heavy on his tongue, like venom. He saw Sarah pale, how she recoiled. Good.
"I…"
"Spit it out, girl." He pinned her to the frame, his hand slamming against the wood, making it shake. His other arm caged her in, moving dangerously close to her neck. Sarah blinked and ducked, her hands coming up to shield her face. She feared him. In the end wasn't that what he had always wanted? He pulled her feeble defence away, took her chin in a tight grasp unlike before, and forced her to look at him. "You will look at me, Sarah." Reluctantly, she did. "Who told you?"
His gloved fingers pressed against her throat, she gulped. Her mouth dry. She was trying to show no fear, trying to be brave, how foolish she was being. Jareth could see her fear, feel it. The ache within him that she had been soothing, flared up. But this time, he welcomed it. It enflamed his anger, directed it at her. Only her. She had inflicted him, the least he could do was share his burden. "I will have them, Sarah. Even if you do not tell me, I will hunt them." He laughed, it shocked her. "Your friends shall suffer for their disobedience."
"No…" she breathed, "You can't hurt them."
"Oh, foolish Sarah," he said, tracing her jawline with his fingertip, "Of course, I can."
Sarah watched him with curious and cautious eyes as she pushed away from the cool wood at her back. His anger came as quickly as it cooled. He let her move freely, not trying to obstruct her. She didn't move far, only to the other side of the wall. Immediately, she felt the loss of his absence. The warmth that had pervaded her body from his was now gone, replaced by a shiver of cold. She had been terrified, flushed and stunned by his reaction. She could still feel the cool path his gloved finger had traced along her jaw. It tingled. As she leant against the cool tiles, her legs almost gave out. But she would not fall in front of him; wouldn't give him the satisfaction to see her weakened. To see that he had finally caught her. His hand fell to his side, the one that had smoothed down her jaw, as he asked, "Well, Sarah, what is it to be?"
She didn't answer.
She stared at the patch of floor where Jareth stood, his shadow overcasting the orange synthetic light that emanated from the grubby kitchen window. He tapped his foot, drawing her attention back up to his startling features. Pointed eyebrows and bright eyes glared down at her, waiting. She didn't look him in the eye. "Sarah," he said impatiently, almost scolding, "I'm waiting."
"Fine," he said with a huff, "I shall take your silence as an affirmation of their guilt. Your friends shall suffer, Sarah. Far more so, than a dip in the Bog of Eternal Stench." He grinned tightly. His eyes narrowed at her; obviously he was still rather furious.
"I know what you're doing," Sarah whispered.
Jareth frowned, "And what is that, precious?"
She looked at him, then. Quickly and fully. She locked eyes with him and refused to budge under his scrutiny. "Goading me," she said, "manipulating me. I won't fall for it. Not this time, Goblin."
"Why ever would I do that?" he said, producing a crystal in his hand. He began to juggle it, twisting it between his long fingers. His eyes were trained on her, "Sarah, you are ever so determined to make me the villain."
"You are the villain." Sarah wasn't ashamed by the fact she had made the Goblin King her own personal villain. After taking her baby brother away, trapping her in a labyrinth and now threatening her friends, how could she not see him as evil? There was a part of her, one that she didn't want, that thought perhaps there was more to the King, but right now – he was the enemy.
"Still such a child," he said, clicking his tongue. "Let us re-examine, shall we?" He spun the crystal on the tip of his finger. "It was you, Sarah, who wished away your brother. Not I." The crystal in his hand split into two, three and then four. He was juggling them with effortless care. The movements transfixed Sarah just as they always done. He continued, rapidly manipulating the orbs in his hands, "It was you, who just now, refused to help your friends when I offered their redemption. You are careless with your decisions, precious one." He let his hand slipped purposefully. One of the crystals fell but he caught it effectively, bending his form elegantly to the side. "Impulsive. Rash. Unthinking." He grinned up knowingly at her, "And yet, you compare me to the villain when I have done little else but try to help, while you, my mighty champion, have done little else but ruin the little lives around you."
He stood to full form, still balancing the crystals in his hands. They merged one by one, glowing slightly as their translucent forms fused together.
Sarah felt like someone had chewed out her gut. She didn't feel offended, angry or even upset. She felt numb. So that was really what he thought of her? A niggling feeling crept into her mind. Maybe that what's everyone thought? Sarah Williams: bad tempered, irrational and… destructive. No, no. She shook her head, trying to get Jareth's words out of her mind. She may have been like that as a teenager – but wasn't every teenager like that? She was damn sure Toby would have his wild, unthinking phase. Teenage years were difficult, like traipsing around a misty field in dark trying to find the path out. Sarah regretted sending Toby away, Jareth was right about that. But to say she had refused to help her friends was ridiculously unkind and uninformed.
"You haven't known me in a while, Jareth." He looked briefly startled by the use of his given name, but she carried on, "I'm not fifteen anymore. I don't run labyrinths anymore, I don't solve riddles apart from the occasional crossword now and then, and I don't fight Goblin armies in my spare time."
"Hm." was all he said. But his slow forming grin was enough for Sarah. It was all too knowing and pleased. She wasn't sure what she had said that amused him so much, but she was sure about one thing: she didn't want to find out. In fact she want to run and hide under her duvet, cocoon herself in and forget about the silly, tight-breeches wearing Goblin King.
Avoiding his eyes, Sarah looked to her side, grossly interested in the toaster. "Like I said, your tricks won't work on me. You have no power over me." She knew she shouldn't have said it. The words felt raw on her tongue like sandpaper rubbing against soft skin.
His head bowed slightly to the side, displaying the profile of his angular features in a halo of streetlight. One eye was trained on Sarah as he laughed hoarsely. It wasn't like his usual laugh, it was more of a syllable. A note of a laugh: sceptical to the very core. His anger was clinging to him like a wayward piece of lead.
"Correct," he said, with such authority that Sarah breathed out a sign of relief. It was short lived. "You are not a subject in my kingdom. You've made that perfectly clear before now." She tried not to blush at that insinuation. "But you forget who is, Sarah. I must say, it's very poor of you to overlook them so easily." She was about to interject, words perched on her lips ready to contradict. He stopped her, by quickly producing another crystal again. Just one this time. No show, all business. "But now, thanks to you, my powers can extend even into this world."
Sarah's stomach clenched, her arms encircled her ribcage defensively and she breathed out as her mind whirled at the implications. "I don't do riddles, speak plainly." She treated his harsh word with her own.
"Did you really think nothing would be unaltered by your victory?" he said, raising an eyebrow. He rolled the orb in his palm.
"What do you mean?" she breathed.
"There has never been a champion before, the Labyrinth had never been finished. You finished it. No child has been won back. That changes things."
"Like what exactly?"
"By taking back the child, you weakened the boundary between the Upper and Underground. I, even with my powers, could never fully breach the boundary, until now. Not in my true form…not without your help, of course."
Sarah couldn't understand. She had been the first to win? Of course, but by doing that she had changed the very fabric of the two realms. "But... I defeated you!" she said, twisting the fabric of her pyjamas tighter around her waist.
Jareth held up a finger. "Correction, you defeated the Labyrinth. You caught me on a bad day."
Sarah would have laughed, if she wasn't shaking with anxiety. She had brought the Goblin King here, now her thoughts travelled to how his appearance had effected the world around them. How it would affect those she loved. She rubbed her forehead. Jareth frowned at the action. She scowled. "Correction, correction: I defeated you. Don't blame the defences, blame the monarch—"
"Technicalities," he said dismissively with a wave of his hand.
"Why are you telling me this, Jareth?" she shook her head, "What does this have to do with my friends, your power over them…" Something clicked into place. Jareth watched with unhidden interest as she pieced it together. "You don't care about my friends…you want something else. Something from this world."
Sarah's throat was dry and her hands clenched against her side, clammy and shaking as she waited for the Goblin King. Except he didn't say anything. His head turned to side again and she was left with the side view of his slim frame and wild backcombed hair that covered his face slightly.
Sarah's voice shook slightly as she gazed at him, pointed features and all. "This is your price isn't it?" she said.
"Finally, Sarah, I was beginning to worry for your intelligence." He grinned like the Cheshire Cat. There was something cunning hidden in that smile, almost like he was hiding something from Sarah. Which is obvious, Sarah thought, why would he ever tell me the truth? Liar. He strode forward and propped his arm against the wall next to Sarah, his right boot crossed over his left as he leaned closer. "Poor Sarah, this isn't at all what you planned, is it?
Sarah didn't know what she had planned. I didn't think at all. "You have no idea."
"Well, we have come full circle, haven't we? All you need to do now is throw something at me, and perhaps run away again and then we can wrap this little gathering up." he said, juggling the crystal between his two hands. He threw it up in the air and caught it with a firm grip. His hand opened like a blooming flower, producing a smaller crystal in his hand. Sarah stared at it.
"I will accept anything you ask of me, only don't hurt the ones I love." Especially not Toby.
It was then that Jareth's laugh returned. "Oh, conditions, conditions," he said, "Tra-la-la."
"You can't take Toby," she said, watching him with pleading eyes. She didn't care right now if she looked as weak as a snail beneath his foot, she would do anything to keep Toby in this world. Happy and safe.
"I don't want the babe," he said, watching her eyes.
Outside the natural light was gone, virtually replaced by streetlamps. Orange flares of synthetic light emanated from the window. They danced up and down the walls and cold floor. It was quite between them. Sarah could only hear the sound of own laboured breathing and the howling of the wind as shook the tree branches outside. She stared at the crystal. Her hand reached out and traced a pattern of the forming picture. Two bodies were moving together. Dancing almost against a clear white background. Accidently, as she traced the outline of the orb her fingers brushed against his palm. He breathed deeply, swayed slightly. The way he moved, the way he breathed. It strange. Even though her gaze was fixed on the emerging figures, she noted how he held his side, how he breathed in sharply at her touch. Strange…
She kept watching the crystal as the images formed fully: Jareth was holding a woman. She was dancing with him, wrapped in a makeshift outfit made out a white bed sheet…
"It's not the babe I want," he repeated, "It's you."
