The Morrigan gazed over her scrying bowl and smiled. In the swirling water she could see the Goblin Kingdom, torn open by quakes and slowly being swallowed by the evil black sludge that had risen from its depths. The castle stood like a forgotten lighthouse in the midst of the shuddering sea of dark magic and decay. The goddess watched it carefully, waiting for a sign that the Goblin King had returned.
"Yes," she thought to herself. "This way is much better. Why should I chase after that infuriating pair? Let them find the Anima vasa. When they do I'll be waiting and I'll destroy it and them."
"I'm starving," Sarah said, flopping down on the large king-sized bed in the hotel room. "Let's go downstairs to the pub and get some dinner."
They had been in Dublin less than an hour, arriving at the airport just as the sun was setting. Hopping into a cab, they had found a small hotel that accepted cash payment and got a room for the night. The hotel was old but cozy, with sparsely furnished rooms and communal bathrooms on each floor. The room Sarah and Jareth were led to had a desk, a chair, a coat rack, a small television and one king-sized bed.
"Come on," Sarah had said, setting Jareth's green bag on the floor at the foot of the bed. "We're not going to turn this into some ridiculous sitcom scenario. It's a big bed and we're both going to sleep in it."
"I wasn't arguing with it," Jareth had replied with a smile.
"The bed is at least pretty comfortable," Sarah thought as she stretched out across it. Her stomach rumbled and she sat up and watched as Jareth removed the light maroon jacket he'd been wearing and hung it carefully on the coatrack.
He smiled at her intestinal grumblings and took her by the hand and pulled her up from the bed.
"To the pub then?" he asked.
"Y-yeah. Sure," mumbled Sarah.
"I had forgotten how much I like beer," Jareth said later as he gulped down the contents of his mug and motioned to the bartender for another.
"I seem to remember quite a stench of stale ale in your throne room, Jareth," Sarah said with a laugh.
A waitress brought over another pint and set in front of Jareth and he raised his mug to Sarah. "There's quite a difference between goblin ale and a pint of Guiness, Sarah," he told her before taking another long drink .
"Oh yes?" Sarah asked, her eyes widening as she watched him kill off another pint.
"Yes," answered Jareth. "Goblin ale tastes like troll piss and Guiness tastes like Ambrosia."
He set his mug down with a laugh and called for another.
"Ambrosia or not, perhaps you should slow down," Sarah told him.
Jareth waved her off. He had missed the taste of Aboveground beer and the way a frothy pint tickled under his nose. He'd missed the way it was cool on his tongue but warm in his belly. He'd missed the pleasant numbness of a good beer buzz. He looked at Sarah and noticed that she was staring at him with a look of concern.
"I use to drink like this all the time when I was human," he told her as he reached for his third pint. Or was it his fourth? He wasn't sure.
"Wait, what?!" asked Sarah, setting down her own glass. "You were human?"
"Well, yesss," answered the Goblin King. "Didn't you know that?"
"No," Sarah replied flabbergasted. She sat, quietly stunned for several moments before speaking again.
"If you were human, how did you end up as the Goblin King?"
Jareth gave a wistful laugh. "I was tricked into it," he told her.
"Tricked?" Sarah asked. "Someone tricked you? This is a story I have to hear."
Jareth shook his head. "Oh no, my dear," he began. "It's really quite long and boring and don't think you would find it interesting at all..."
Sarah waved for the bartender and then turned to Jareth. "I'm buying you another drink," she told him, "and you are going to tell me everything."
Jareth didn't tell her everything. Despite another healthy round of Guiness, he maintained his faculties enough to leave out certain bits of the story. He told Sarah about earning the ire of a sorceress and becoming her personal plaything. He described the challenge of the seven riddles and songs and how he had met Hoggle and Sir Didymus and Ludo. He didn't tell her the identity of the sorceress and thankfully she didn't ask. He wasn't sure how long he'd been talking and drinking, but when he stopped and looked around the pub was dark and empty.
Sarah was leaned in listening intently. An empty wine bottle sat on the table between them. Apparently, some time in the evening they had switched from Guiness to Cabernet. Catching his gaze, Sarah sat back in her chair.
"I don't understand," she began. "If you answered all the riddles and sang all the songs, how did you get bound to the Goblin Kingdom?"
"There was a clause in the curse that the sorceress neglected to tell me about," Jareth explained. He picked up the wine bottle and tipped it up to his lips, but only a small droplet of wine reached his tongue. He set the bottle back on the table and continued.
"According to the Book of Secrets, the sorceress could be unbound or destroyed. As the solver of the riddles I had the power to destroy the sorceress and free myself or release her and bind myself in her place."
"But Jareth," said Sarah. "If that's the case then... you chose to be bound. Why?"
Jareth didn't answer but looked away. Even after all the years that had passed the wound still burned in his breast. He could still see himself standing on that sodden plain with his heart in his hands. He had sacrificed himself for her and she'd left him chained there. He was aware of her attempt to save him later, but that did little to dull the ache of her betrayal.
"Jareth," Sarah was saying. "Why? Why would you willingly-" She stopped, obviously struck by a thought. "Unless," she said slowly, "You loved her."
She looked up at him, wide-eyed.
"You fell in love with her, didn't you?" she asked.
Jareth didn't answer, but picked up the empty wine bottle and tipped it back again trying desperately to get more wine to come out of it. Sarah watched him in amusement and wonder.
"I can't believe it," she said. "You're the Goblin King simply because you fell in love." She gave a little laugh. "I simply can't believe it."
Jareth slammed down the wine bottle and stared hard into Sarah's face. "Believe it," he spat, his eyes flashing fire. He jumped up from the table and staggered toward the window.
Sarah rose from her seat and followed him. "Come on," she said quietly. She took his arm and led him to the door. "Let's get some air."
They made their way outside to a small table. The moon was hanging low over their heads, casting a silver halo of light around them.
"I'm sorry, Jareth," Sarah said. "I didn't mean to upset you. It's just hard for me to imagine you being in love."
"My human self was capable of such things," Jareth told her.
"But not now?' Sarah asked.
"I'm afraid not," he lied.
They were silent for a long while before Sarah spoke again.
"What was she like?"
Jareth looked up at the stars. In his drunken haze they swooped and swirled in the sky like a Van Gogh painting come to life. He shut his eyes to the celestial reeling.
"She was beautiful," he answered. "She was a deceitful bitch, but she was beautiful."
Sarah laughed and he opened one eye and smiled.
"That's always the case, isn't it?" he asked and Sarah stopped laughing. "Except with you," he continued. "You're beautiful Sarah, but you don't seem to be a bitch. Anymore," he added with an evil grin.
"All right now, Your Majesty. I think it's time for bed," Sarah said rising from her seat.
"That sounds like a wonderful idea," said Jareth. He moved to stand up, but wobbled and pitched forward and nearly fell onto his face in the dirt, but Sarah caught and steadied him. He smiled and purred gently as Sarah helped him back into the hotel and upstairs to their room.
"Are you going to take advantage of me, Sarah?" he asked, slightly slurring her name.
"No Jareth, I'm not," she answered.
The Goblin King stopped abruptly and looked down at her. "Why not?" he asked indignantly.
"Because you're drunk," Sarah told him. "This is the twenty-first century and sexual assault is not cool, Your Majesty."
Jareth smiled and leaned forward, forcing her back against the wall. "Oh Sarah," he whispered. "That is so noble of you, but I assure you that anything sexual that happened would be completely consensual on my part."
Sarah flattened herself against the wall as he pressed into her. She could feel the heat from his body and it, combined with several glasses of wine, was beginning to make her judgment cloudy.
"Jareth, you're so wasted you have no idea what you're saying," she told him.
"Perhaps not," he leaned even closer and whispered into her ear. "But I'd still want it if I were sober."
Sarah sighed and pushed him off her. "I doubt that, Jareth. Besides, you really need to get some sleep. You're probably going to feel pretty rotten in the morning."
She helped him through the doorway of their shared room and toward the bed where he plopped down and rolled over. Sarah slipped out her blue jeans and into a loose pair of shorts before crawling into bed beside him.
"Goodnight, Jareth," she said to him as she lay back onto her pillow.
"Mmmff," was all she received in reply.
Sarah was right. He did feel rotten the next morning. He had grown feverish some time during the night and had shed all of his clothes. He awoke naked and alone in the bed with his stomach churning and his head pounding and the shaft of bright light coming through the open curtains driving a hot dagger right into his cornea.
Sarah was wrong too. He still wanted her. Jareth couldn't remember much about the night before except that he'd drunk human beer for the first time in eons and then everything had gotten a little fuzzy around the edges. He remembered Sarah, sitting outside at a table under the night sky with the light of the moon framing her head just so, making her look like a Renaissance Madonna. He supposed it was terribly sacrilegious to be turned on by a vision of the Blessed Virgin, but Jareth really didn't care. Besides, he knew Sarah was no sinless virgin.
The ache in his head was accompanied by a painful tightness between his legs. Damned alluring girl! He flopped back onto his pillow and let his hands wander down his body to the painful aching in his groin. He stroked the throbbing area as his mind drifted back to the dark castle over the barren plain. Sarah as a dark and powerful sorceress had hovered over him, her sex nearly touching his. He had grabbed her, slamming her down on himself as a cry left his lips. She had moved on top of him slowly, deliberately, drawing out his pleasure until he'd erupted inside her and a burst of blue stars danced around his head leaving him spent and giddy.
Jareth rubbed himself faster, feeling the warmth spreading from his spine and down into his nether regions as he remembered making love to the sorceress. He wondered if the Sarah she was now would make love to him in the same way. Would she be timid and shy? Or was the intimate Sarah as bold and seductive as her magical counterpart? He imagined her hands on him, taking what she wanted, leaving him breathless. Her name flew from his lips as his body shuddered and he came. He lay still in the quiet room, trying to calm his uneven breathing and steady his spinning head, knowing that Sarah could walk through the door at any moment. If would hardly do for her to come in and find him lying prone in a post-orgasmic haze, his hand sticky with-
"Jareth are you up? I—Oh gosh! I'm sorry, I didn't know you weren't dressed!" Sarah cried, throwing a hand over her eyes.
Jareth pulled the sheets up over his lower half, trying to fight the wave of nausea that had risen in his stomach while at the same time trying to reassure the thoroughly embarrassed Sarah.
"I wanted to check on you," she went on. Her voice seemed unusually shrill and Jareth thought his head might split in two.
"It's all right, Sarah," he told her, wincing. "I'm fine besides this godawful hangover."
Sarah uncovered her eyes and stole a glance at the Goblin King. His legs were covered by the bed sheet, but she could still see the outline of them and had gotten quite a good look at what was between them. She felt the heat rising in her cheeks and looked away.
"I know you feel awful," she sputtered, "but there's coffee downstairs and a nice breakfast of sausage and eggs. You need a good coating of grease on your stomach to get over that hangover."
Jareth's stomach lurched at the mention of grease, but he managed a weak smile.
"Thank you," he told Sarah. "I'll get dressed and then I'll join you downstairs."
"Great," Sarah said hurriedly as she turned and left the room with her cheeks flaming.
Jareth stood unsteadily and tried to dress. His head throbbed as he bent over to pull up his trousers. He tried to shake off the cobwebs of the night before as he slipped a plain grey shirt over his head and smoothed it down over his body. After sliding his feet into a pair of loafers he slowly made his way out to the hall and down the stairs to where Sarah sat waiting with a hearty breakfast. He knew she was probably right about him needing to eat something a bit heavy on the grease, but all he wanted was a cup of coffee with a shot of bourbon.
"Or a bullet to the head," he groaned.
He joined Sarah at the table, squinting in the piercing morning light as he flopped down into a chair and fished a cigarette from his shirt pocket.
"Your eggs are getting cold," Sarah said without looking at him. He could tell she was still flustered at having seen him naked and despite feeling like shit he was rather pleased to know he'd rattled her a bit.
Jareth stabbed at the white blobs with his fork and golden yolk poured out of them and onto his plate soaking his rye toast. He picked up the toast and stuffed it in his mouth and was grateful that it was appealing even in his foul state.
"I don't remember the last time I had a hangover," Jareth told Sarah as he dragged another piece of toast through the bright yellow egg yolk before shoving it in his mouth. Sarah was surprised to see that he'd even set his cigarette, still unlit, aside and was tucking hungrily into his breakfast.
"Maybe when you were human?" Sarah asked.
Jareth's eyes grew wide and he nearly choked on his toast at her words. "Wh—what?" he asked.
How could she know about that? Who had told her? Perhaps the dwarf? No... A foggy memory of the night before came back to him. He remembered sitting there in the pub, slinging back beer like a frat boy and regaling Sarah with the story of how she'd tricked him into becoming the king of the goblins.
"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck," he chided himself. What had he done?!
"I was thinking last night," Sarah said, unaware of his inner turmoil. "The sorceress, the one who betrayed you... was it the Morrigan? Is that why she's after you?"
"The Morrigan? I-"
"Excuse me," said a lilting voice behind them. "Are you Sarah Wiliams?"
Sarah turned to see a red-haired waitress standing over her shoulder. "Yes," she answered. "I am."
"There's someone waiting outside to see you," the waitress said.
Sarah wanted to ask who, but the woman had already disappeared into the kitchen.
"Who could have found us here?" Sarah asked Jareth. She wondered if perhaps Keith had called her parents who in turn had sent out Scotland Yard looking for her. She craned her neck to try to see out the window, but saw no flashing lights or police uniforms.
"We should go find out," said Jareth. He laid aside his fork and pushed back from the table, still a bit wobbly on his feet. Sarah followed him closely as he made his way to the door and stepped out, shielding his eyes against the glaring sun.
"Your Majesty! Down here!" cried a little voice excitedly. Jareth and Sarah looked down and saw Squashblossom standing just outside the pub door.
"Squallbladder! What are you doing here?" Jareth asked, surprised but also pleased.
"It's Squashblossom and I'm here to warn you two," she fussed.
"Warn us? Where are the others?" Sarah asked the little dwarf.
"That crazy bitch has them frozen in the castle and has surrounded the whole place with her army. She's waiting for you, Your Majesty!" Squashblossom wailed.
Sarah knelt down and took the dwarf's hands. "Now now," she cooed. "It's going to be all right. You're incredibly brave to come and warn us like this, isn't she Jareth?"
"Oh... um, yes. Quite right," gushed Jareth. "But how did you manage to get out?"
Squashblossom hesitated to answer, unsure of how the king would react.
"I used the tower mirror," she said at last. "Put me right in Sarah's attic."
"My attic? You mean at my parent's house?" asked Sarah.
"Yes, I suppose it must have been. I heard them talking on the phone about how you were here."
"So," thought Sarah. "Keith did call my parents."
"I met your brother," Squashblossom continued. "He's a lovely boy."
"Toby? Is he okay?"
"Oh yes," replied the dwarf. "He sends his love."
Sarah breathed a sigh of relief. The fact that she'd disappeared without a trace or word to anyone was beginning to gnaw at her. At least her family knew she was alive and well.
"What are we gonna do about that awful woman?" asked Squashblossom.
Jareth shook his head. "We can't do anything until we get the Anima vasa. It's what she wants anyway. No doubt she's decided to sit back and let us find it and bring it to her."
"How did you find us, Squashblossom?" Sarah asked.
"I asked the right questions and said the right words," the little dwarf woman told her. "What should I do now, Your Majesty?"
Jareth looked down at the brave dwarf and smiled. "If Morrigan wants a fight, then she shall have one," he said. "Squashblossom, I need you to go to Jerusalem."
The Irish National Museum of Archaeology sat like a giant stone wedding cake on Dublin's grand Kildare Street next to government buildings and Merrion Square. Its domed rotunda and colonnade had been inspired by the Roman Pantheon. Sarah followed Jareth across the cobbled square to the entrance of the imposing building. She looked up in wonder as they stepped into the impressive rotunda that housed the museum gift shop. The domed ceiling rose like a delicate bubble over the shop area and the floor was a beautiful mosaic depicting the figures of the Zodiac. To the far right, Sarah could see the area marked "Reception" and she and Jareth made their way to the sleepy man behind the desk.
"How may I help you?" asked the man whose name badge said Tadgh.
"Yes, hello there," said Jareth. "My colleague and I have an appointment with Ian... what was his last name, Sarah?"
"Ian McGrath," answered Sarah.
"Names?" asked Tadgh.
"Sarah Williams and Jo Kingly," Sarah replied, holding back a laugh at Jareth's expression. He narrowed his odd eyes at her and grimaced.
"Jo Kingly? Really, Sarah?" he asked, obviously annoyed.
Sarah smiled to herself. It wasn't often that she got one in on the Goblin King and she enjoyed rattling him as much as he enjoyed toying with her.
Tadgh pushed some buttons on his computer and scanned the screen. "Ah, yes," he said. "I'll call down and tell Dr. McGrath that you're here."
Sarah and Jareth looked around the museum shop while they waited. The shelves around the rotunda were filled with the typical gift shop items: books and model kits and plastic dinosaurs and stuffed mastodons. Jareth perused a book about ancient Irish gold while Sarah looked through posters of skeletons of dinosaurs and other extinct creatures.
"Miss Williams?" asked a heavily accented voice. Sarah turned and saw Ian McGrath, who she remembered from Keith's pictures. He was a short man with dark hair that was swept back from his face with a generous amount of pomade. He had small dark eyes, but the longest eyelashes Sarah had ever seen on a man. He wore a smart green suit with a blue and green checked shirt underneath and a paisley silk tie.
"Hello Dr. McGrath," she said. "I'm Sarah, I'm a friend of Keith's"
"Yes," said Ian as he reached out and took her hand. "I was rather surprised to hear from Keith out of the blue like that. He was rather intent on setting a meeting up between us. He said it was incredibly important."
Sarah was about to tell him just how important it was when Jareth walked up.
"Who, may I ask, are you?" Ian said with a wide grin. He looked Jareth up and down and Sarah couldn't really blame him. Jareth looked quite fetching in his soft grey polo shirt, charcoal grey trousers and dark loafers. His hair was slicked back behind his ears making his high cheekbones and sharp jawline more prominent.
"Dr. McGrath, this is my colleague, Professor Kingly."
Ian stepped toward Jareth and extended his hand. Jareth smiled and shook his hand warmly. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Dr. McGrath."
"Please, call me Ian."
"Right, Ian."
"Just what can I do for you two?" Ian asked.
Jareth took advantage of Ian's open attention and got right to the point.
"Ian, are you familiar with something called the Anima vasa?"
Ian stopped and stared up at the Goblin King. "I might be," he answered slowly.
"How familiar?" Sarah asked.
Ian looked from Sarah to Jareth. "Tell me what you know," he told them.
Sarah took the two gold pieces from her pocket, unwrapped them and showed them to Ian.
"I'll be damned," he gasped as he looked down at the ancient gold fragments. He swallowed hard and turned to Jareth. "I think you should follow me downstairs to the archives. I have something you'll definitely want to see."
A/N: Lessons here: Guinness makes goblin kings gab. The only thing worse than a hangover is a horny hangover. Squashblossom is resourceful AF.
Questions: Now that Sarah knows a sure way to get Jareth talking, do you think she'll use it to her advantage? What advantage would that be?
If you had a drunk Goblin King on your hands, what would you do? *smirk* So much naughtiness, so little time...
*The title of this chapter comes from an Irish drinking song about a beautiful woman who gets a man drunk and then betrays him.
Friends, Labyrinthians, Countrymen, give me your comments!
Thanks!
Fanny
