Chapter Ten: A Party Invitation
"Well, I've washed my face three times and it isn't gritty anymore," Jennifer said, coming into the room with a towel around her shoulders and her hair slightly damp. She eyed Sarah. "You look like a tank rolled you over and spit you up."
"Thanks for that," Sarah said, pulling on her sweater. "Least I don't have a gritty face."
"Gee, touchy much? Did you wake up on the wrong side of the sofa or something?" Jennifer opened the refrigerator and took out the orange juice. "Want some?"
Sarah watched her pour the orange juice. Her stomach flip-flopped and nausea bubbled at the pit of her stomach. She pressed the back of her hand to her throat. "No, no that's fine."
What she needed was something for the hang-over, to help settle her stomach. She opened the fridge and realized, not for the first time, that Jennifer never had any good food. She didn't even have any eggs or bread left. Sarah eyed the choices of ketchup, milk, salami, a bag of broccoli, and four cans of V8.
"Where's all the food?" Sarah asked. "Jennifer, you've been out of college for five years. Why does your fridge still look like a college freshman's?"
"Talent, I suppose?" Jennifer leaned close to look into the fridge. She took a sip of her OJ. "There's salami."
"I am not having salami for breakfast, not when I feel like this." Sarah grabbed a can of V8.
She opened the V8 and took a tentative sip. Her lip curled, but she forced herself to drink the whole lot in a few deep gulps. When the can was empty, she took a deep, shuddering breath and felt her stomach settle a little. She sat at the tiny dining table stuck in a corner of Jennifer's apartment and patted her stomach gently.
Note to self: avoid the goblin grog in the future, she thought. She froze, the V8 can half way to her lips. In the future? As in, again? Go to the Labyrinth again?
The idea of going back to the Labyrinth had come so easily to her mind, like going to the grocery store or taking a walk. It had felt natural that she would go back there.
Sarah analyzed that feeling from all angles, wondering, Do I hope I can go back? Well, the Labyrinth was a magical place and she always had fun when she was there—even drunk on goblin grog. The goblins were a handful, but she could let go of her responsibilities and just play when she was around them. She even had fun with the Goblin King. His mysterious, Otherworldliness was there, yes, but there was also the man whose face had shown with excitement when he told her of his Christmas feast plans. Oddly enough, both sides of Jareth made Sarah's heart flutter.
But she was mortal. Boring. Human. What right did she have to spend time in the Labyrinth?
Only half conscious of the gesture, Sarah twisted her ring around her finger thoughtfully. With all the insanity that had happened last night, she'd forgotten to ask Jareth about the gift. It was a good sign to be given a gift, right? But then, why had Jareth sent her home without a goodbye—or, since she probably wouldn't have remembered a goodbye, at least leaving a note for her? Why had she suddenly awakened in her bed? What had happened?
Again, she wondered if her being mortal had anything to do with her ending up alone on the sofa. She'd kissed Jareth and had been prepared to do a whole lot more. That was enough of a sign for any red blooded male to realize a girl was interested, right?
Sarah couldn't imagine Jareth being gentlemanly enough to let her go just because she was drunk.
You don't want him to be that gentlemanly, admit it, the devious part of her whispered.
Well…can you blame me? I don't know how he manages it, but the Goblin King can push all my buttons—or at least I'm pretty sure he can. I didn't get far enough to really find out! He seemed to be doing just fine before he had to leave, Sarah thought, frowning. And by his own admission he's a villain. He shouldn't be acting gentlemanly! Not that I don't want him to…you know what? I'm just going to stop thinking right now before I make my headache come back.
Sarah sighed and tossed the empty V8 into the trash can. It bounced off the rim into the receptacle.
Three points, Sarah thought.
"Did something happen?" Jennifer asked, bringing Sarah out of her thoughts. "I mean, last night…" Jennifer paused, frowning. She tapped the rim of the orange juice glass against her teeth. "Actually, I could have sworn you were talking to a guy last night."
"What?" Sarah said, alarmed.
"Yeah, I saw him for a split second and then he was gone. Must have gone back into the crowds, they were pretty thick," Jennifer said, slowly, as if she was trying to draw the memory out from a deep well. "Blonde hair, kinda tall and pale—cute. Did you get his number?"
"Uh…not really," Sarah muttered.
"Bummer. I've been saying you should start dating again. Kris was hot, but he was a jerk. I suppose it's understandable, I mean, Kris with a 'K'?" Jennifer wrinkled her nose.
"Kris was just fine," Sarah muttered.
"Right, a fine jerk who broke up with you."
Sarah didn't say anything. The truth was that the relationship had ended because of her. Yes, Kris had broken up with her, that much was true, but she'd never told Jennifer the full story. Last Valentine's Day, now nearly a year ago, Kris had taken her out to a fancy restaurant and afterwards they'd gone driving to her favorite spot: a lake just outside the city limits. Sarah had always loved the place because at night the stars would shine like diamonds in the sky, twice as bright as one could ever see in the city with all the light pollution. And, they reflected so beautifully on the lake's surface. Sarah had sat there (perhaps not a wise thing to do late at night) many times, imagining the world had become nothing but stars—a starry road leading her to the sky. Kris knew it was her favorite place in the area. They'd walked to the edge of the lake and there, under the bright stars, he'd kneeled in the wet grass and presented her with a ring.
She had held the ring in her hand and for one shining moment had thought she could slip it on her finger…and then the moment had passed. She looked at Kris, kneeling there, breathtakingly handsome as always with his blonde hair and dancing blue eyes (though, that night, they had been near-black in the darkness of the night) and her heart had broken with the knowledge of what she was about to say.
She'd said she couldn't marry him, despite her feelings for him.
He'd gotten angry then. He'd stood up and jammed the ring back into his pocket, then said, "Then what the hell are we doing? I want this relationship to go forward, not sputter and spin its wheels forever."
Remembering that night still brought a hot tangle of emotions that made Sarah's cheeks flush: guilt, sadness, pain, and shame at being unable to love Kris how he deserved to be loved.
When she'd talked to Jennifer next, she had mentioned that she and Kris had broken up. Because of her disinterest in going into further detail, Jennifer had assumed the worst, and Sarah had never corrected her.
I'll know, Sarah told herself, firmly. It was the only comfort she could give herself. When the time is right—when the right person asks, I'll know. I'll just know.
For a moment, she thought about Jareth and then snorted. Right, somehow she couldn't imagine the Goblin King on one knee with a ring in his hand. She didn't even think she wanted to see the Goblin King like that. He was a man from fairytales, after all.
The Mission Impossible theme song floated from the bedroom and Jennifer got up, putting her empty OJ glass into the sink. "That's probably my sister," Jennifer said, rolling her eyes. "Just be glad you never broke up with your boyfriends like my sister breaks up with hers. Ohmigod, the drama! Drama, drama, drama! And I have to hear it all, because I'm the older, mature sister."
Jennifer rolled her eyes and sighed, acting quite melodramatic herself, before she disappeared into her bedroom. Sarah sat alone, quietly, twisting the ring round and round on her finger.
Suddenly, there was a knock at the front door. Sarah frowned, glancing at Jennifer's closed bedroom door, and then stood. She was wearing PJs and a sweater over her camisole tanktop, and there was no way to know she didn't have any underwear on. She opened the door—to a blank hallway.
Sarah's frown deepened as she glanced left, then right, but no one was there. She tightened her grip on the doorknob, about it close the door, when a light cough made her look down.
There was a cluster of five goblins in the hallway, all of them looking at her with bright, shiny eyes. Sarah recognized Jeebo, Mort, and a few others from last night. She also noticed, with a twinge of envy, that none of them looked hung over. Maybe goblins couldn't become hung over.
And then she remembered where she was. Casting a panicked look at Jennifer's door, she said, "Guys, what are you doing here?"
"We're on a mission," a goblin with a feathered hat said. The feathers looked suspiciously like chicken feathers. "We gotta talk to Lady Sarah."
She wasn't sure when this "Lady Sarah" business had started, but she felt odd being called that. She also noticed that a lot of the goblins were looking at her with wide-eyed expressions that bordered on devoted. Oh boy. She really wished they wouldn't look at her like that.
"Well, you found me," Sarah said, forcing a smile. Telling the goblins that she was busy would probably do little to stop them; it would probably be quicker just to let them tell her whatever they wanted so they could go back to the Labyrinth.
After a moment's hesitation, Sarah peeked out into the hallway, glancing left and then right. It was deserted, like usual. Jennifer's apartment was nice on the inside, but the building itself looked like little more than a concrete box with rows and rows of single balconies. And the hallway was atrocious with its canary yellow paint, sickly fluorescent lighting, dark carpets, and never-ending apartment doors that all looked the same except for the numbering on each one.
Sarah stepped into the hallway, ignoring the way the carpet felt almost damp under her feet. She pulled the door closed. It had a deadbolt lock, so she wouldn't be locked out.
"So, what's all this about?" Sarah asked.
To her utter surprise and confusion, Mort pulled out a harmonica from his pocket. It was small, perhaps child-sized, but shiny and when he blew into it, the note that came out was clear. The goblins mimicked the note in a low, sing-song hum and Sarah looked up and down the hallway again, feeling panic rise.
"Deck the halls with boughs of holly,
Fa la la la la, la la la la.
Tis the season to be jolly,
Fa la la la la, la la la la.
Don we now our gay apparel,
Fa la la, la la la, la la la.
Troll the ancient Yule tide carol,
Fa la la la la, la la la la."
"What is 'Yule'?" a goblin asked, whispering loud enough that Sarah could hear him clearly.
His neighbor goblin, who had pants with reflectors sewn into the knees, elbowed him so hard that he sputtered as the breath wheezed out of him. The goblin with the odd pants said, "Sssh! Singing!"
"Yules bring trolls," the goblin on the other side said, rolling its large, almost buggy eyes. "Don'tcha listen to the song?"
"Sssh!"
Sarah rubbed her forehead and sighed.
"See the blazing Yule before us,
Fa la la la la, la la la la.
Strike the harp and join the chorus.
Fa la la la la, la la la la."
"Guys, you don't have to do this," Sarah said, but the goblins ignored her, continuing to sing. They weren't in harmony, so the song turned into a cacophony that still passed for music—barely. "Guys?"
"Follow me in merry measure,
Fa la la la la, la la la la.
While I tell of Yule tide treasure,
Fa la la la la, la la la la.
Fast away the old year passes,
Fa la la la la, la la la la.
Hail the new, ye lads and lasses,
Fa la la la la, la la la la."
Worse, still, the goblins tripped over particularly long words, like "measure" or "lasses," and if they forgot a word, they would just mutter nonsense under their breath until they picked up the tune and lyrics again.
Sarah heard a door open and jerked her head up just in time to see Jennifer's elderly next door neighbor, Ms. Nebbit, who knocked on the wall furiously with her cane whenever Jennifer switched her stereo on regardless of the volume, ("Ignore her," Jennifer had said, "she'll get tired soon enough and just stop bothering.") peek out from around her door. She was almost comical looking with her Coke bottle glasses, her heavily lined face and hunched form, and her toothless mouth that made her lips concave. She always wore clothes in garish colors—right now, Sarah saw she wore a dress with huge, pink flowers on a royal purple backdrop—and she always had her cane firmly gripped in her hand as if she was just waiting to thrash someone.
However, when Ms. Nebbit saw Sarah with the goblins clustered in front of her in a horseshoe shape, her eyes widened until they seemed to fill the thick-lenses of her glasses. Her eyes were watery, but sharp. She blinked once…twice…and her mouth dropped open.
"Hi Ms. Nebbit," Sarah said, weakly.
Ms. Nebbit jerked back around the door and disappeared from view, slamming the door shut. Sarah groaned. Her only solace was that a person was more likely to think they were crazy than think they had seen a bunch of goblins singing a Christmas carol to a young woman.
"Sing we joyous, all together,
Fa la la la la, la la la la.
Heedless of the wind and weather,
Fa la la la la, la la la la…"
The goblins faded away as the song ended and they all looked at her expectantly.
"That was great guys," Sarah said, smiling. A part of her had enjoyed it, had actually found it sweet that they were singing to her, and she wished she was somewhere she could fully loose herself in the moment. Somewhere she didn't have to worry about people spotting the goblins.
Then, Mort raised the harmonica again and struck another note.
"Jingle bell, jingle bell, jingle bell rock—"
"No no!" Sarah said quickly and the song sputtered to a halt, much to her relief. "That was so good, I definitely don't need an encore. So…why are you guys singing Christmas carols? You realize Christmas was yesterday, right?"
"Kingy said to," Jeebo said.
A goblin elbowed him and said, "Give Lady the message!"
"I'm gonna give Lady the message! Stop poking me!" Jeebo said, angrily. He turned back to Sarah. "Kingy gave very strict instructions—"
"One, go to Aboveground and find Sarah," a goblin said, and Jeebo glared at him for interrupting.
Jeebo said, "Yeah, and then—"
"Then knock on door politely," another goblin said, earning him an icy glare from Jeebo, which the goblin ignored.
"Then—" Jeebo tried again.
"Sing Christmas song to Lady Sarah!" Mort said, his wide eyes shining with excitement and, as he looked up at Sarah, doting loyalty.
Jeebo's face darkened with anger and he grabbed Mort's harmonica and chucked it down the hallway.
"Hey!" Mort yelped, and scampered off to retrieve it.
"Jeebo, that wasn't nice," Sarah said, keeping an eye on Mort as the tiny goblin navigated the hallway. He found the harmonica easily, it hadn't gone very far and it shined under the fluorescent lighting, contrasting with the carpet so brightly that it was impossible to miss.
Jeebo pouted, looking adequately chastised. "Sorry Lady Sarah, don't be mad at Jeebo."
"I'm not mad, but you should be nicer to your fellow goblin." Sarah watched Mort pick up the harmonica and turn to go back to the group. She glanced back to Jeebo and said, "So, why did Jareth want you guys to sing to me?"
"He said it was 'ad—ad—ad-e-quit-lee Christmasy,' " Jeebo said, stumbling over the words. "We supposed to do everything ad-e-quit-lee Christmasy 'cause party is tonight."
"Tonight?" Sarah felt her heart give a lurching thump in her chest and a longing filled her. Should she ask the goblins if she could come?
But, before she could ask anything, Jeebo reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, white envelope. He presented it to her with a rather regal look on his face and said, "Kingy also said once we sing, we give you this and then we gotta get back im-im-im-e-dit-lee."
"Immediately? But—"
"Kingy said we gotta report. 'Report or bog!' he said."
Sarah couldn't help but grin. She could imagine the Goblin King pacing the throne room, waiting to see if his goblins had listened to him. She thought about asking if she was invited to the party, just blurting it out before the goblins left, but truth be told, she didn't want to hear the answer from the goblins. She took the envelope. "If you have to report immediately…"
The goblins headed off down the hallway and disappeared in the blink of an eye—all except Mort who, at the last moment, turned around and with his largest, doe-eyed look said, "Lady come by, okay?"
"Uh, sure, Mort."
Mort grinned happily.
Could he mean the party? She glanced down at the envelope and when she looked back up, she was alone in the hallway. After a moment, she went inside and closed the door behind her. She leaned against it and tore open the envelope, fishing out a cream-colored card. The paper was weighty, the fancy type of stuff, and in the center was a familiar symbol: a triangular shape with an odd, spiraling, circle design at its center and below that, curving horns pointing downwards. It took a moment for Sarah to place the symbol, and she kicked herself for not recognizing it sooner.
Jareth's necklace had the same design.
With slightly trembling hands, Sarah opened the card. Written in a fancy, calligraphic script was a simple message:
You are invited to the first Underground Christmas.
There will be refreshments, dinner, dancing, and all manners of magic.
There will also be a Christmas tree, stockings by the fire, and chestnuts.
Unfortunately, the ghosts of Christmas past, present, and future couldn't make it.
I do sincerely hope to see you there, Precious.
Yours, the Goblin King.
P.S. Dress code is formal…but for you, Precious, I'd make an exception.
P.P.S. Go home, Sarah. There's one more surprise waiting for you.
Sarah grinned. If anyone had asked, she'd have never admitted how pleased she felt— or how much the second-to-last postscript made her abdomen tingle. She was invited to the party! And not only that, but Jareth was doing his usual tempting Goblin King shtick—could that mean nothing horrific had happened last night after she got drunk?
The Christmas ghosts thing is funny, Sarah thought, and then frowned when she realized that maybe Jareth hadn't been joking. After all, it was the Underground, where dreams and fairytales came true.
Which brought her to the last postscript. She re-read the words softly to herself and frowned. How had Jareth known she was still at Jennifer's? Sarah chewed her thumbnail thoughtfully, then looked around and murmured under her breath, "Jareth, if you're watching me from one of your damn crystals, know this: if you watch me undress, I'll kick you…in a place your tight pants advertised loud and clear."
She didn't hear any reply, but then she hadn't been expecting one. She glanced at Jennifer's bedroom door, but it was still closed. She supposed her friend was still talking on her cellphone. Well, Sarah was going to get dressed and then head out. She had a lot to do before she headed home: she needed a dress suitable for a party in the Underground (she wasn't quite sure what kind of dress that would be, but she knew she didn't own one), and if she was going to a Christmas party, she needed to bring gifts for the goblins, her old friends…and their King.
What to get the Goblin King that has everything? Sarah wondered, smiling to herself. She quickly began to pack her duffle bag, her hang over forgotten.
# # # #
The Goblin King didn't like how quiet the castle was. He frowned, sitting up in his throne, and muttered, "Where are those bloody imbeciles?" He listened and heard nothing. "It's quiet, too quiet."
He magically teleported to the kitchen, but that was empty. He looked for them on the spiral staircase—the goblins had a penchant for sliding down the banisters—in the portrait room where they liked to race chickens, and in the gardens where they liked to play hide and seek.
Eventually, he found them in the banquet room, which was decked out in Christmas finery. As he appeared in the room, he heard the usual cacophony that followed goblins everywhere and thought to himself that he should have looked here first. Lately, the goblins had come to the room to stare at the tree in hushed awe and resist the temptation to eat its branches. Jareth had told them that any goblin who sampled the pine would have a one way ticket to the bog and miss the party—and he'd know even if they tried to hide it, he'd smell the pine on their breath. So far, his threat of missing the party had been adequate; no one had tried to munch on the tree branches.
However, the goblins weren't looking at the tree, or tapping the gifts left under the tree, or adjusting the stockings hung along the top of the fireplace. Jareth watched in confusion as a goblin danced around with what looked like a long pair of leggings on his head. The other goblins had circled him and were clapping and cheering him on. The goblin flicked the leggings over his shoulder as if they were twin braids and twirled until he was dizzy enough to fall.
Jareth toed goblins out of the way and stepped into the circle, pulling the leggings off the creature's head and looking at them distastefully. He glanced at the goblin and—with the leggings off his head—he was able to identify which goblin it was.
"Jeebo," he said, "what, pray tell, are you doing?"
"Dancin' Kingy."
That damn nickname again. Jareth pinched the bridge of his nose and said, slowly, "Jeebo, don't call me 'Kingy.'"
"No prob, Kingy."
Jareth sighed, closed his eyes, and counted to five before moving on. "I know you were dancing, Jeebo. Why were you dancing with this on your head?" He shook the leggings.
"'Cause that's what it's for?" Jeebo said, uncertainly. "It's a hat, Kingy!" And then, he added, "Isn't it?"
"No, no Jeebo, I can assure you that this is not a hat," Jareth said, pointing at the leggings. He glanced at them. "Although, I'm not quite sure what they are."
They were a distasteful, off-yellow color. Jareth held the leggings up and saw that the elastic band was frayed. They were also made out of extremely warm wool and soft to the touch. Jareth fingered the fabric and frowned.
They definitely weren't something that would be in his realm. The atrocious leggings weren't up to his exquisite, refined sense of style. He said, "Are these yours?"
Jeebo and the other goblins shook their head. A goblin with a large, bulbous nose and a flower pot on his head said, "I founds 'em in the bathroom."
"Found them…in the bathroom…?"
Jareth stared at the leggings a moment longer and then his eyes widened as he remembered something. Sarah had suddenly needed to go to the bathroom last night. It had interrupted a perfectly wonderful mood, in fact.
He twirled the leggings thoughtfully. Had she gone to the bathroom to dispose of these? Had she been wearing these under the sheep-printed pants?
Jareth had seen many strange forms of clothing in the Aboveground—some of them made the acquired clothes of his goblins seem tame in comparison—but he couldn't imagine wearing full woolen pants underneath more pants.
But then, he'd once been summoned to Russia by a child who had wished away his mother. Russia in the winter had been…cold. Jareth had quickly expanded some magic to keep his body toasty warm in the frigid weather.
But, humans didn't have magic. Were these kinds of leggings used to keep warm? He could easily imagine humans wearing two sets of pants in a place like Russia.
Sarah cared enough about what you thought to take these off, the sensible part of him whispered and that made him feel…very happy. He felt that damn flutter—that tell-tale sign of his infatuation (no, even worse, love)—in his chest, above his heart.
Hold on, old boy. If she took these off, could it mean she wore nothing underneath those silly sheep pants? Suddenly, the flutter became something hotter. He grinned, thinking what a pleasant surprise that would have been. He could almost imagine…
Now he half-wished he hadn't taken her back after she'd fallen asleep.
He had been generous—and still in shock at his self-discovery—and turned back time when he brought her back, so that she would get a full night's sleep. He had looked at her sleeping face as he put her on the sofa, then smoothed the hair away from her forehead and sighed with longing before pulling the blanket up and disappearing.
Back in his bedroom, painfully aware that he was there alone, he thought, Sarah, you're still turning my world upside down.
Sarah…
His Sarah because she couldn't be anyone else's, it just wasn't a scenario he would entertain. If he was doomed to love her, he would accept that fate, but he would not lose her again. He couldn't. He had known he would invite her to the Christmas party—after all, it had been because of her the idea had come to him, and she had helped him—but now the party took on an important purpose.
Somehow, he would convince Sarah to stay with him, in the Underground, because he wasn't sure that he could live alone now that he knew he loved her. He wasn't sure he could face day after day, for eternity, with the goblins and the occasional wisher, if he was alone.
I was right, Jareth thought, his lips twisting into an ironic smile, a Goblin King in love is a pitiful thing, indeed.
He noticed the goblins were watching him and cleared his throat. "Anyway, I think I shall take this, Jeebo."
"Aw, but Kingy—"
"Don't call me 'Kingy'!" Jareth grit his teeth. "You have no need for these and I think they are Sarah's. I'll return them to her. Yes…I think I'll do just that. I'll return them to her right now, in fact."
She's had time to sleep, Jareth thought. The grog should have worn off by now.
Jareth hadn't been planning to see her until the party—after all, what was the human idiom? "Absence makes the heart grow fonder." But, he just couldn't help himself. Devious thoughts of a Sarah sans underwear were marching through his head. He wanted to see her.
Now.
Jareth disappeared with the leggings.
The goblins looked at the spot where their King had been standing a moment earlier. Now there was only a sprinkling of glitter. Jeebo huffed and said, "Who wants to play poker?"
"Me! Me! Me!" several goblins shouted.
"Okay, but I dealer," Jeebo said, pulling out his wrinkled deck of cards from his pocket.
# # # #
Sarah sighed with relief as she finally fiddled her door open despite the fact that she was laden with shopping bags. She entered her apartment and closed the door with her foot.
Her apartment was smaller than Jennifer's, but prettier. The building was old, so the pipes rattled and she had to set out traps to keep the cockroach and rat population at bay, but she still loved the place. The open floor plan made the apartment seem bigger and airy. There were huge, floor-to-ceiling windows in the living room that looked out onto a small, green park. The bathroom had a claw-foot tub that, just recently, had a shower installed. Her bedroom was just big enough to cram a queen sized bed, a dresser, and a bedside table into, but she'd put up her paintings and photographs until the bedroom had become an impromptu art gallery—one that only the most special of people ever got to see.
Sarah had, at one time, been rather artsy. She'd taken Theater in college, with minors in Studio Art and Drama History, then she'd gone back for an extra year so she could finish an Education degree, as well. In those days, she'd had no idea what she wanted to do with her life, but it had all worked out for the better.
Sarah shivered and made sure the radiator was on before laying her coat over the back of the futon and moving into the kitchen. She grabbed the jar of peanut butter, thinking to slice an apple, but when she turned her eyes fell on a pie sitting on the tiny island counter that acted as the only divide between the kitchen and the rest of the apartment.
She hadn't baked a pie…except for last night in the Underground…
She put the peanut butter on the counter and leaned closer to the pie, as if she expected it to say hello, but it looked innocent enough. In fact, it looked delicious. The crust was flaky and golden-brown and latticed over the top. The fruit which peeked through was a brilliant, golden-orange color, almost indescribable.
Peaches.
Sarah's heart began to speed up. She looked around the pie and spotted a small, red envelope with her name carefully printed on the top. With a trembling hand, she picked the envelope up and opened it. Inside was a matching note card and familiar, calligraphic script that read:
For old time's sake.
This pie was made with magic from what I learned watching you.
Enjoy, Precious.
It wasn't signed, but Sarah knew exactly who it was from. She bit her lower lip and regarded the pie uncertainly.
Later, when Sarah analyzed that moment, she'd notice that there had been some warning to his arrival. There had been a slight noise in the air as it was forced to move to suddenly accommodate a new shape. And maybe the noise of flapping wings—but that may have just been her imagination. However, at that moment, Sarah wasn't prepared for the silky smooth, masculine voice that said, "Why Sarah, did you just get home? The pie will be cold."
Sarah yelped, jumping back and dropping the envelope.
Jareth was lounging on the armchair, which Sarah usually had pointed at the windows, but right now it was at a right angle to the futon and so looked right at the kitchen nook.
He looked good, with tight beige pants, a poet's shirt with ruffles at the collar and sleeves, and those knee-high riding boots. It was a look she remembered from ten years ago, except now he'd added a blue waistcoat with golden embroidery. His hair was the same long, voluminous style with wispy bits that surrounded his face and brushed his shoulders and back. Very few men could pull off ruffles, but somehow Jareth managed.
Her gaze rested on his lips. Though they were thin, they were well shaped, and she could remember the feel of them as they glided over her lips and skin.
Jareth smirked. He probably had realized exactly what she was thinking. Sarah looked away, blushing, and said, "Don't you ever—I don't know, use the front door? Knock?"
Jareth snorted. "A Goblin King doesn't need to use the front door."
"It's polite."
"Do you really object to my being inside your home, Sarah?" Jareth said, softly, and although his voice was just as silky smooth and seductive as ever, his eyelids drifted down to hood his gaze, as if he didn't want her to know how he really felt.
Since she couldn't deny that she was pleased to see him, Sarah decided to let it go. Instead, she pointed at the pie and said, "Don't you think it's a bit risky giving me a peach pie considering our…history?"
Jareth grinned and stood gracefully, forcing Sarah's gaze to follow the lithe column of his body. He walked to the kitchen nook and she desperately tried not to think of predators and stalking and how her abdomen was tingling as she watched him.
Oh boy, she had it bad. She wanted him badly.
He leaned on the island counter and regarded the pie. "Not at all. I am merely pleased with the fruits of my labor and wanted to show you. But, you let it get cold. Didn't the goblins give you my note?"
"Yes, but I had a lot to do."
"Then it is lucky you have the Goblin King here." He waved his hand over the pie and immediately Sarah saw steam rising up from it as it was heated through. "And all without needing an oven or one of those silly contraptions." He nodded at the microwave.
Sarah found herself staring at his lips again and forced her gaze away. "Do you want a slice?" She took down some plates.
"I wouldn't mind."
Sarah dished out a slice of pie for each of them and even added a little ice cream on the side. Pie a la mode, a real treat.
"Should I be worried?" Sarah asked as she cut a forkful of her slice.
Jareth raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"
"Well, the last time you gave me anything with peaches, it made me pass out, and I had a very peculiar dream." She noticed that he was watching her cut into the pie intently and she added, "I really don't want to dream right now."
"I'm a little insulted," Jareth said, meeting her gaze. "You would think I would poison you? Why would I do that, Precious, when you've proved amply that it's much more interesting to have you…awake?"
The little pause was pregnant with potential and Sarah shivered. She cleared her throat and said, "You've said on numerous occasions you like being the villain—"
"Ah, but what is the basis of comparison?" Jareth smiled, teasingly. "If it is a choice of hero or villain, I think I'm more suited to the latter." Jareth reached out and let a lock of her dark hair run through his fingers. The gesture was intimate and caused Sarah to lock eyes with him again.
"Don't you?" Jareth murmured.
Sarah swallowed, unsure of what to say without totally giving away how he affected her. He seemed to know, though, because he was amused—and yet, there was something different about all of this. There was something different in the way he was looking at her and even touching her, something more…hopeful? Desperate? She couldn't put her finger on it, but she knew it was there.
Suddenly, Jareth leaned back, letting his hand fall to rest on the countertop. He said, "Don't let it go cold again, Precious."
Jareth didn't touch his slice until Sarah had sampled hers. He watched with strangely bright eyes as she brought the forkful to her mouth. It tasted fine, better than fine, delicious. She probably looked surprised, because Jareth chuckled. Magic was too convenient, she thought as she finished up the slice.
"Aren't you going to have any?"
"I will. I think I enjoy watching you enjoy it more, though." He smiled and leaned his chin on his hand, watching as she finished the food. "It's my first time doing magic for this purpose. Usually, the goblins are in charge of the food—and they usually cook some interesting combinations. When they've thoroughly messed everything up, I fix it all into something halfway palatable."
"Interesting combinations? Like what?"
"Hmm, well, there was that week they thought to add beets to everything."
"Beets? Why beets?"
"They liked the color," Jareth said with a small smile. "I was given beet soup—nothing but beets boiled in water, and that was the tamest of it—and then, there was the pickle and ice cream—"
"Pickle and ice cream?"
"Yes, dill pickles just pushed into the ice cream. It looked unappetizing, let alone tasted," Jareth said. He thought for a moment. "Actually, many of their food choices seem to involve ice cream. Once, I watched them slather barbeque sauce, the aforementioned pickles, and carrot sticks into their soft serves. I felt my stomach lurch, that was for sure."
"That sounds horrible."
"Oh, it was, Sarah."
"Why do you put up with it?" Sarah suddenly asked, curious despite herself. "I mean, you're the Goblin King."
"It is because I'm Goblin King that I must put up with it," Jareth answered, picking at the crust of his pie. He sighed. "Goblins are special creatures. They don't change, they don't age, and they are untouched by time — perhaps more than even I am. They are what they are…"
"What you see is what you get," Sarah murmured.
Jareth nodded. "As such, they need a ruler with patience." He paused, and suddenly grinned. "A ruler with charisma, magnificence, dignity. A ruler with brains and looks to match."
Sarah rolled her eyes. "A ruler filled with vanity, perhaps?"
"Vanity? You wound me, Precious. I only speak the truth."
Sarah wondered if the goblins were what kept Jareth from boredom. Maybe that's why he put up with them, because their antics were something that broke the monotony of everyday life. What must it be like to be immortal and the only human in your world? She didn't remember seeing anyone else. Sarah licked her lips and tentatively asked, "Are there any other humans in the Underground?"
Jareth frowned, his eyes suddenly shadowed and he looked away from her to stare out the living room window. "No," he said, finally. "The rules state that the only humans other than residents of the Underground are those running the Labyrinth and the loved ones they wished away. There are no human residents. The Underground, in a way, is a place for those who fit nowhere else, watched over by a king who didn't quite inherit the title."
"Didn't he?" Sarah murmured.
Jareth glanced at her and smiled. "Why, no. I am a fishmonger."
Sarah blinked, then sighed and put her dish into the sink. "Doing near-quotes of Shakespeare doesn't help. And we were having a good conversation, too."
When Sarah turned back, Jareth looked contrite and, to her surprise, the pie slice on his plate was gone. She wondered if he had eaten it, or had teleported it elsewhere, but she took his plate and washed it, too.
"I don't remember a time I wasn't the Goblin King," Jareth said, after a moment. "For all intents and purposes…I was always Goblin King."
"And you are the only one of your kind? It sounds lonely. Why not invite some human residents?" Sarah asked, quietly, her heart beginning to pound.
"For a long time, I had no interest in asking anyone. I thought that it would grow boring quickly and then I would have some human hanging around that I didn't like, and what was I to do then? But…" Here, Jareth cut-off abruptly, looking bleak. His lips curved down at the corners and Sarah had the wild urge to kiss each corner and make them turn back up into that seductive, dastardly smile he usually had.
"But?" she prompted. Her heart was pounding particularly fast and she knew, instinctually, that a lot depended on how Jareth answered the next question. Something was happening between them. Ever since the Goblin King had come back into her life, it was like she was heading towards something definite, like a new path had been laid before her and she couldn't resist it.
"But then I began to think that assumption was wrong." Jareth licked his lips and Sarah couldn't help but follow the motion.
"You asked someone?"
"Yes."
"What did he or she say?" Sarah could hear the echo of her heartbeat in her ears. Did Jareth hear it? It seemed loud enough that the whole neighborhood should be able to hear it.
Jareth gave her an amused look and said, "She rejected me, I'm afraid. Quite outright and quite surprising, given all my good qualities, but I suppose that is the downside of taking such risks."
"You'd never ask again?"
Jareth froze and he turned back to her so he could search her face, looking for something. He murmured, "I would have said no, never, not again in a million years, but…"
"But?" Sarah whispered.
"But if I saw some sign—some hope—then I think I would ask again. Or maybe even do something completely un-Kingly and beg." He smiled, sadly.
Sarah met Jareth's gaze and something inside her, maybe her heart, seemed to crack open. Jareth's mismatched eyes were filled with an introspective pain, and his smile was self-mocking, as if he couldn't believe what he'd just admitted and wasn't very proud of himself for admitting it. The look in his eyes said he firmly believed that his story could only have an unhappy ending.
Sarah's heart was heavy, full of emotion, but she could recognize one of them. The pounding, almost painful feeling she got when she was around the Goblin King flared until she gave a half-choked gasp and she reached over the counter to frame Jareth's face gently in her hands. His eyes widened in surprise and then she had leaned over, following her hands, so she could kiss him.
Jareth stiffened momentarily, then moaned against her lips and it sounded almost relieved. A moment later, he had teleported the brief distance to her side of the counter, so quickly that she didn't even feel the disappearance of his lips. When he appeared by her side, he took her in his arms. He pressed her against his body, tilted her face up to his, and kissed her.
Sarah felt her knees turn to rubber and she had to lean against him for support.
He kissed her so thoroughly, leaving no inch of her lips untouched by his. Sarah wrapped her arms around his neck. Her body was flush against his. She rubbed against him, unable to resist teasing a little, but the affect was instantaneous for both of them. Sarah felt like someone had dumped warm water through her veins, she gasped against his lips, and Jareth groaned before pushing her against the wall. It wasn't gentle, but he cushioned the back of her head with his hand. Even if he hadn't, Sarah was swimming in naughty, lusty thoughts and probably wouldn't have noticed. Her body tingled, ready and primed.
Jareth kissed and nuzzled her neck. She closed her eyes and threw back her head, nearly knocking it into the wall herself, and groaned. She felt him smile against her skin, pleased with the reaction. He cupped her hip with one gloved hand, and Sarah shuddered, then with the other he began to deftly unbutton her shirt, kissing the exposed skin.
A part of Sarah's brain was impressed and jealous by how easily he unbuttoned her shirt one handed, but it was quickly silenced by a fresh wave of desire when Jareth pressed his lips to the swell of her right breast, just above where her bra was. She whimpered and ran her hands along his neck, burying her fingers in his soft hair.
Jareth gave a sound of approval, then licked the spot he had just kissed before playfully tugging on her bra with his teeth. Sarah was having trouble thinking, but she definitely wanted that bit of clothing off. She opened her eyes, about to say something, when she looked over Jareth's shoulder to see Jeebo sitting on the kitchen island.
Seeing a goblin looking at them with his elbows resting on his knees, his chin pillowed on his hands, and a bored expression on his face was quite the mood killer. She froze and Jareth made a sound of protest.
"Er…Jareth…"
"Precious, don't tell me you're having second thoughts—"
"No, Jareth, um…" Sarah said, then leaned down to whisper, "Jeebo is behind you."
Jareth stiffened, then slowly turned around. Sarah tugged her shirt closed, shivering when the cold air hit the wet spot where Jareth had licked her. She was suddenly tempted to bog Jeebo.
"What are you doing here?" Jareth asked the goblin, his voice only a few levels above infuriated.
Sarah leaned around Jareth to look at the goblin with disapproval.
"Guests're showin' up soon, Kingy. I was supposed to get you?" Jeebo said. He had noticed the look on both of their faces and shifted uncomfortably. "Um…sorry?"
Jareth pinched the bridge of his nose and said, "There's at least an hour left."
"Hey! I don't know if I want just an hour!" Sarah said, before she could stop herself.
Jareth gave her a look that made her blood thrum and she blushed. She added, "Er, besides, I have to get ready."
This is so not fair… she thought.
Jareth sighed, then said, "Oh yes, that reminds me, I came here with a purpose in mind and you distracted me, you minx." He grinned and extended his hand. In between the blink of an eye, Sarah saw a familiar article of clothing appear in his hand.
She knew that faded yellow color…
With horror, Sarah realized Jareth was holding her long johns. Before she had time to think about what to do, she made a squeaking noise of embarrassment and grabbed them, jamming them behind her back. Then she realized that she'd just confirmed the embarrassingly unsexy underwear was hers and she blushed.
"I take it they were yours, then?" Jareth said, with amusement, confirming Sarah's worst thoughts.
"It's not what you think—"
"Oh, come now Sarah, I was enjoying my thoughts." Jareth leaned forward and his voice dipped. "I was thinking you were leaving your under clothes around the Castle and walking without anything but a single layer of flimsy cloth. I'd've loved to check this time…" he glanced at Jeebo, who still seemed to be watching them with semi-bored, semi-amused interest, "but it will have to wait. You will be coming to the party, yes?"
Sarah met Jareth's gaze and forgot what she was going to say. Jareth grinned and kissed her thoroughly, nipping her lower lip between his teeth before stepping back. If anything, that made her thoughts even more sluggish.
"You will be coming to the party, Sarah?"
"Yes," Sarah said, dreamily.
Jareth chuckled. "Those leggings—"
"Long johns," Sarah said, blinking and trying to mentally grab her wayward thoughts.
"Long johns? Indeed? What a silly name." Jareth paused, grinning again. "The long johns aren't necessary, of course. Completely optional. In fact, I suggest keeping them at home this time."
Sarah blushed furiously. "You're so infuriating sometimes! Like this isn't embarrassing enough!"
Jareth laughed, but then his expression sobered and he regarded her with an odd look in his eyes; seeing it made Sarah's heart speed up with longing. Jareth gently stroked her cheek, then trailed his fingertips along her jaw line to end at her lips, which he brushed with the pad of his gloved thumb. The soft leather was warm and before Sarah could stop herself, she parted her lips and licked the leather with the tip of her tongue.
Two can play at this game, she thought, her eyes sparking with challenge—and promise.
Jareth's breathing picked up. So quickly Sarah couldn't have reacted, even if she wanted to, Jareth moved his hand to the back of her head and pulled her close for an achingly tender kiss. It was like he poured all his feelings into that kiss and Sarah could almost taste them against her lips. The tenderness belied the rigid grip he had on the back of her head, as if he was afraid she'd disappear. The kiss spoke of hot longing and cold loneliness, and of hopefulness, and it made Sarah's heart pound and quake. She felt like her heart was going to leap out of her chest and fly towards Jareth.
Jareth pulled away and rested his forehead against hers. He said, "When the party begins, a goblin will come to get you. I'm looking forward to seeing you there, Sarah."
Sarah shivered at the implication in his words, the hot promise, and at the way his breath ghosted over her lips. She wanted to kiss him again, but before she could, he—and Jeebo—had disappeared, leaving her hot and bothered, with an unbuttoned shirt, and gripping the long johns in her hands.
Sarah blinked, looking around. Her apartment seemed different now, as if it had been touched by magic—or maybe that was just her desire-addled brain seeing things. She pressed a hand to her feverishly hot cheek and murmured, "Jareth, you're a damn tease."
There's a chance, the devious side of her thought, that you may be falling in love with the Goblin King.
Sarah sighed, closing her eyes briefly. "If I haven't already!" she muttered.
Author's Notes: Oh my goblins, this chapter took forever (and it's the longest chapter I've ever written)! It didn't help that real life kept butting in. Grr. However, look, adult-type touching! Well worth the wait, right? Right? :D And I even managed to get the long johns back for Sarah. LOL. Next time on "State of Mind," there will be secrets revealed, presents opened, good food eaten, and goblin mayhem abound!
So, Sarah raised an interesting question...What would YOU, dear readers, get a Goblin King? Please review, I'd love to hear your answers! :) If there's one that particularly strikes my fancy, I might rework my outline to include it and give the reviewer a big, happy shout-out of thanks and glee.
In fact...this chapter is dedicated to kms5665 and tichtich2, both who said there must be peach pie. Well yes, peaches do seem to have a special place in Sarah and Jareth's hearts, no? LOL. I think they're definitely going to remember this dessert, too. :D
Please review, I'd love to hear your comments/suggestions/thoughts. Do you think Sarah and Jareth can have a happily ever after? Do you think the party will go off without a hitch? I love all the reviews I get, they leave me with warm, tingly feelings of happy-joy and encourage me to get to writing. :D And yes, I do reply to every one I receive, either here or by email. :)
Also, from everyones reviews of last chapter, it amused me greatly how well received Tabitha (now entitled "The Bratty Teenager" LOL) was! I was worried she'd be way over the top! I may have to bring her back someday... *shifty eyed look*
A few shout-outs before I head to bed...
merlinswit: Thanks for the wonderful compliments! Yeah, I know it must be annoying to read stories chapter-by-chapter and I wish I was good enough to write out the whole thing beforehand, but to be honest, this story is kind of fluid. I'm especially enjoying asking my readers for input and changing it accordingly, so it can't be all typed up beforehand. Plus, I usually have too many projects going on at one time to write out whole stories in one go. LOL.
Jack Hawksmoor: Thank you so much! I'm glad you're enjoying it! I'm not sure/convinced if I'll go full M. We'll see... XD However, I imagine that Sarah and Jareth will eventually get to his bed. Muhahaha.
nemo: Thank you so much for the wonderful compliment, I was gratified to know my little fic lifted your mood. :) Ukrainian holidays in general seem like insane fun! Kind of like my family's holidays (when we manage to all get together)! As someone who has worked with children of all ages (actually doing a job similar to what Sarah is doing in this story), I've seen way too many of the cellphone obsessed type. And yes, they do fill me with fear. *shudder* Poor Jareth. And whew, I'm glad I got away with the drunken Sarah section. :) As for what's going to happen...you'll have to wait and see! Muhaha!
Cybernetic Mango: What a wonderful idea! I can imagine all of the world's leaders suddenly having a big party bash and trying to Riverdance as they get drunk off goblin grog...A perfect opportunity for me to take over the world! Wait, what? Did I say that out loud? *ahem* Anyway, nothing to see here. Carry on. :D
Aysuh: Tabitha did, like, totally deserve it, right? XD Actually, I don't know if Jareth was completely a gentleman, since he was a little shell-shocked at the time. Poor Goblin King has never truly been in love before.
Ayjah: No worries, it's not over till it's over! LOL. Actually, I am currently planning 3 more chapters. :)
tichtich2: Thank you for the wonderful compliments. I have decided to incorporate the NEW "OMG" and I think I may have spread it a bit, myself. LOL.
FaeriesMidwife: Look! Look! ATT! XD I think I skirted the T rating again. LOL. I'm afraid Real Life didn't stay away, bah. Was sooo busy this week.
Artemis: Yeah, Jareth had more patience than I would have, but then again, he has to deal with the goblins' antics on a daily basis. Some may say he exaggerates his good qualities, but patience is definitely one of them.
ChilaliSnowbird: I bet your ferrets would love the Escher Room! Think about all the places they can hide food! Yipes!
Lumissne: LOL, of course I research well! Didn't you notice the dark-haired woman in the bushes with the pen and paper muttering to herself? J/K XD As for coming up with goblin grog, starting with peaches is always a good place to begin. Although purple methylated spirits worries me...remind me to stay at least 30 feet away from you when you mix everything together. LOL.
Thank you everyone for the wonderful reviews! *happy dance*
The Fine Print: As always, I don't own anything in regards to the Labyrinth, I only claim ownership to my own original characters.