The usual disclaimer... I don't own the characters, places, or words. I just arranged them.
The school day ended and Winston had yet to show himself. Peter couldn't decide whether to be pleased at the result or frustrated. On one hand, he really wanted to pound his former friend. On the other hand, he liked the idea that he had inspired such fear in Winston that the boy had not even the courage to be seen at school with teachers and other students around as witnesses to any action Peter might take.
However, the fact still remained that Peter needed to get rid of Megan. If the goblin king would not take his sister, Peter knew of one other powerful force that might. It would take a lot of preparation, but he figured he could get her arrested.
The question was which route to take. Drug deal? Shoplifting?
He needed something that would allow him to compromise her easily. Something that would, without a doubt, leave him blameless.
She was not likely to trust him either. Which meant whatever his preparation was, he needed to do it during her timing. He couldn't ask her to go to the store with him or anything, because she would never agree to do so. He needed to figure out some way to incriminate her during her daily activities.
One way or another, he would find a way to ensure he never had to deal with Megan again.
By the time he had walked home, Peter knew exactly how he could be rid of Megan. Best of all, his plan was possible tonight.
It did not take Jareth long to locate the oubliette that Florian was being held in. The elf's flowery scent felt almost tangible to Jareth.
The elf paced around the room, unaware that he had been joined in the darkness. He was mumbling curses at Jareth.
The goblin king waited until Florian's pacing brought them almost nose to nose. "Well..." Jareth spoke loudly.
Florian stumbled backwards, tripping himself in the dark. "Mercy!" the elf cried aloud.
Jareth waved his hand and the chasm that served as the only entrance or exit from this particular oubliette opened. White light spilled through it like a spotlight. Jareth stepped into the brightness so that his imposing figure glowed before the cowering elf. "You dare ask for mercy after you attempted to steal from me!" Jareth roared.
"I wasn't asking for mercy," the elf regained some of his composure, "I was exclaiming it because you startled me." He rose to his feet and dusted his clothes off.
Jareth's head tilted to the side as he considered the obstinate wretch who stood before him. "I see," Jareth replied sarcastically.
"You do not frighten me, Goblin King," Florian spat back.
In response to the elf's foolish bravery, Jareth called up the shaft of the oubliette. "I need the prisoner moved." At once, the shapes of arms released their holds on the walls and began to form faces with their fingers.
"Up or down?" the helping hands asked.
"Up."
"He chose up!" The helping hands snickered.
An extremely long helping hand reached down and plucked Florian by his wrist.
"Hey!" Florian protested. Another hand grasped Florian and together they began to move the elf upward.
The helping hands formed mocking faces as Florian ascended. "Up, up, up" Another of the faces chanted.
From his spotlight in the oubliette, Jareth watched the elf disappear. He knew what he was about to do would have consequences, but... well... he was the goblin king. You don't take from the goblin king.
"You going out running tonight?" Peter innocently asked his older sister.
She cussed at him for talking to her and then told him to mind his own business.
He took that as a yes.
Every night at about seven, Megan would put on her black, spandex running suit and disgrace the neighbourhood with her graceless variation of a jog.
"Did you show mom and dad your report card?" Peter asked the question solely to annoy his sister. She was barely passing her classes.
Megan growled something under her breath and stormed out of the room.
"I'm putting my report card on the fridge so they can see it when they get home," Peter boasted. He had A's written in red marker all across his. "You should do the same, wouldn't want them to miss it."
Megan's response was to turn the television volume louder.
Peter smirked. She wouldn't ask him where he was going if she noticed him leaving the house an hour or so before her. In fact, she would probably relish the idea. It would give her time alone in the house to get rid of both their report cards.
"That smell!" Florian moaned as the helping hands swayed him up, down, up, down, and then threw him out of their tunnel.
Jareth was waiting for the elf, his left hand supporting his chin. He sighed and then pointed to a tree nearby. He twirled his finger as though drawing bindings on the elf and, with his connection to the Labyrinth, the tree stretched out a limb and grabbed hold of elf.
Florian was tugged back to the tree's natural position... dangling a metre above the bog of Eternal Stench.
"You will regret how you have treated me!" Florian bellowed. "I am an envoy! You are to receive me with courtesy."
Jareth rolled his eyes. The elf did not know when he was beaten.
Jareth took a step closer to the bog's bank. "Do you know where you are?" He asked.
"The filth you call a kingdom."
"This is the Bog of Eternal Stench. If so much as one drop touches you, you shall smell like the bog for the rest of your life... and death."
It took him a long moment to gather his courage, but eventually Florian managed to utter, "You don't scare me," his voice had only trembled a little.
"I suppose I do not," Jareth shrugged. He flicked his finger and the tree mimicked the motion, dropping Florian a few centimeters then pulling him back up.
Florian gulped.
"Now, you entered my kingdom without permission. You stole something precious to me and you did something to her. Tell me what you did to her and how I can fix her or you will become a permanent resident of this bog."
Florian gritted his teeth and thought of a compromise. "I will tell you what happened alright. But you need to do something for me first."
"I don't need to do anything for you," Jareth assured him.
"As I said before, I am an envoy. I bear a message from King Caderyn," Florian paused as though he thought Jareth would be anxious to hear it. Jareth blinked and waited as though it did not matter to him. "The supreme king summons you to his realm to answer for the events relating to the faerie kingdom."
Now, there are few things that the clever Jareth considered frightening, but King Caderyn was one of them. Nevertheless, he knew how to hide the frisson of doubt. Regardless of the trepidation Jareth was feeling, Florian saw nothing but the ruthless goblin king enjoying torturing an imprisoned elf.
"You must report to King Caderyn immediately," Florian continued.
"And if I don't? Perhaps I say the messenger never reached me... or that he never told me the message?" Jareth was not the only one afraid of Caderyn.
Florian's face grew red. "I won't tell you anything more then," That Florian was willing to become the first professional bog diver betrayed exactly how Caderyn was perceived throughout the Underground.
"Very well," Jareth shrugged. "You tell me how you found Sarah and what you did to her and I will ensure you are credited with telling me the message."
"You swear it?"
"On my honour as the goblin king,"
Florian breathed easier... as easy as one could breathe when suspended above the Bog of Eternal Stench. He related how he had travelled the road by the Lake of Unquenchable Fire to deliver the message for Caderyn. How he had heard a voice shouting from the island in the lake and used his enchanted boots to cross the fire in order to investigate the prisoner. "I gave her Morpheus Root which makes a being slumber as though in death. It was the only way to remove her without your knowledge."
Jareth had known or guessed as much.
The elf's countenance changed abruptly; he grew more confident. "I've no idea how that creature woke from her slumber during her escape. But I will tell you this, there is but one who can heal her and you know who."
Jareth grew angry at Florian's impertinent tone and at the answer, which Jareth had dreaded. "There is another way," the goblin king insisted.
"Of course there is not," Florian chuckled. "Now, I have answered your questions. Release me."
"Certainly not," Jareth smiled. "Unless you are ready to tell me how to cure her, I will let you linger here."
"You know the only way to break our magic," Florian replied. "There are no alternatives."
Jareth blinked twice showing his lack of amusement. "It would be a shame if the bog belched something at you while you hang there. I wonder how long it will be for you to yield. A day? A month? A hundred years?"
"She won't last that long," Florian bit back.
Jareth swallowed. Florian could be bluffing. But then again, he might not. Nevertheless, he didn't have time for this arguing.
"Let me go," Florian commanded again.
"Not a chance," Jareth retorted.
"I wasn't talking to you," Florian trumpeted as he moved his arms – a feat he should not have been capable of in his present confinement. Florian's eyes shut and his lips moved, forming inarticulate words. As he spoke, the tree loosened its grip on his legs and began to lower him. And not to the solid ground! The corners of Florian's lips turned up as his feet met the surface of the bog. The tree released Florian and returned to its original pose.
The elf beamed in conquest as he faced the goblin king. "Did you think Alvar would send me to your kingdom ill prepared for this bog? You may have sorcery, but we elves have mastered the language of all living things. The trees here groan with the abuses you have used them for, they are anxious to help my kin."
Jareth's head tilted forward and he looked at the elf through the top of his lashes. It was not the response Florian had hoped for, but the elf was glad to have regained equal footing, so to speak. He was still standing on the bog, his enchanted boots capable of walking over not only fire but also bog water, preserving him from any unpleasantly permanent odours.
Hoping to aid the intimidation factor, Florian strutted towards Jareth. "Now, let me return home, Goblin King. I must report to my king," Florian walked right into Jareth's personal space. "And, I suspect you want to be returning that creature to King Alvar. Who knows what will happen to her if she is not properly awakened."
Jareth thrust out his arm shoving Florian backward. The elf had not the time to react, so furious was Jareth's assault. Jareth watched Florian's eyes grow wide as he fell backward into the bog. There were no boots to protect the rest of his body as it plunged into the fetid water.
Megan heard her brother escaping out the kitchen door. She counted out two minutes and then leapt from the couch. She tore into the kitchen and snatched his report card. She considered destroying it, but that would cause more trouble if Peter reported its absence.
She glanced at his scores and grimaced. She could never compete with his average.
She let out a profound sigh and then slumped back to the couch. She had been a good student too at Peter's age. Back when life had seemed so promising. That was before their father had lost everything in a consuming gambling debt.
Megan grabbed the remote and switched off the television. Suddenly she hated herself. She hated herself quite often. One moment she would be fine and then the next moment she needed to be someone else, somewhere else. Her muscles would tense in revulsion and she'd leap to her feet needing change.
"It's his fault," she muttered to herself tearfully. "He always has to be so horrible." The sadness left immediately, giving way to anger.
Mother had told them about their father's mistakes (father had been in a drunken stupor for days already). "I'm going to take a night job as well," she had told them. "So you both need to look after each other and study hard. I'm sorry I cannot be there for you as often. Look after each other."
Well, Megan had tried. Even before mother had taken her aside privately and told her that as the older sibling, she would need to be strong for her little brother. Of course, mother and father did not know that Peter was evil.
Yes, she had said some horrible things, but Peter had said worse. He had never forgiven their father though father had since quit gambling and even drinking, working hard to get out of debt. Peter had never considered trying to help in the family efforts. Instead, he used his good performance to curry favour with their sometimes-present parents. She watched him spin his malicious act, knowing how manipulative her brother was. But mother and father believed it and they began to side with Peter whenever he brought an argument to their attention.
"I'm just trying to help," she reminded herself. Though her parents might prefer Peter, at least she was trying to aid them. Sure, her grades were low, but she had spent her nights learning résumé writing. She'd even gotten a job interview lined up for next week. If she could get a job, maybe she could help with the family expenses and then maybe things would go back to the way they were...
Megan shook her head, barely daring to hope.
She cleared her mind, emptying it. It was dangerous to hope.
She turned to the clock. It was a bit early for her nightly run, but she felt like she might need a long one anyways. She patted over to her room and changed her garb. She stretched her couch-comfortable muscles and tied her dark hair back. Plodding over to the door, she laced up her runners and reached to grab her hand weights.
Megan frowned. One was missing. "Peter!" She shouted to the empty house. He was always messing with her stuff, breaking it and hiding it. "That bastard is going to pay for this."
Her anger reignited, Megan thundered out the door with only a single weight.
Goblins dressed in bog protecting outfits hauled the elf to the nearest oubliette while Jareth returned to Sarah.
"Out!" he commanded the wisemen and goblins who attended to her. His minions scurried to be gone from Sarah's room. Alas, the king had removed the door and forgotten to reinstate it. The cowardly goblins said nothing though, merely herded themselves to where the door should have been and shoved each other trying to get closest to the former exit.
When the noise did not cease, Jareth turned to his minions. They looked like cattle in a pen, pressing against the wall trying to be free. He groaned in disgust and redrew the door. They hurried out and he sealed it shut again.
Jareth took in a deep breath and moved to Sarah's side. He placed his chin in his hand and considered the sleeping girl.
"I'll find another way to free you," he promised her.
She gasped as though in pain and turned. She'd been locked in some horrible nightmare for hours now.
Jareth flicked his wrist and a damp cloth appeared in his hand. He padded her brow with it, sponging the sweat, and cooling the fever of anxiety.
Sarah turned abruptly and moaned, "No, don't hurt Hoggle!"
The goblin king swallowed. Perhaps he should summon those Sarah considered friends. Maybe they could help. Or maybe not. Maybe they would make her despise him more.
Sarah's hand shot upward, pushing her hair into a mess. Jareth pulled the glove off his left hand and straightened the mused strands. His finger brushed against her ear and he thought of the elf in his oubliette.
Elves, hateful creatures as they were, cared about shape and colour in such a way that other details were irrelevant to them. They would never appreciate Sarah for what she was: courageous, adventurous, clever, and beautiful. No, the elves would see hateful rounded ears, dark hair, light eyes, and... nothing else.
Jareth's eyes opened wide as he realised what to do. He looked at the elven garments Sarah was still wearing. "Yes," he muttered to himself. "That will work perfectly."
He held out his right arm out and wove his left hand in the air as though he were stitching. Her body was enfolded in black cloth as he replaced her current garb. The blue tunic folded over his extended arm as the spell finished, leaving Sarah in an elegant, but simple, gown.
The goblin king did not waste time lingering; he was gone from the room immediately. "Nabber!" Jareth summoned one of his servants as he appeared in his throne room. The goblin was quick reply to the summons.
"Answer the call," Jareth commanded the goblin.
Nabber nodded and was gone.
"Hurry up," Peter whispered in an attempt to summon his sister. He had been hiding in the rose bush in front of the jewellery store for far too long. His body was scratched to pieces from getting into his perch and he wanted to be free of the prison.
Then he saw her.
Megan reached the corner and turned towards her brother's hiding place. She bore the single weight, passing it from the left hand to the right so as not to unbalance the strain on her arms.
"This is it!" Peter whispered to himself. If his parents wouldn't rescue him from Megan and the goblin king wouldn't take her away, he'd send her away.
Peter gripped Megan's other weight in his hand waiting for her to pass. She even wore her black hat. Peter thought to himself. In her black spandex and black hat, she was dressed not unlike the bank robbers in movies.
Peter took in a deep breath. She was almost there. He expected a sensation of regret, but felt nothing. Megan passed.
He hurled the stolen weight from his gloved hands and into the window of the jewellery store. It crashed through with a great cacophony.
Megan stumbled in surprise at the sound while Peter crawled out the backside of the rose bush.
The building alarm howled in the night. The police would be here soon. He squirmed from his concealment and peeked around the rose bush.
Sure enough, Megan had turned around and approached the shattered window. Curiosity would be her doom. The police would arrive and see the jogging weight. It was probably covered in fingerprints, though none would be Peter's. His gloved hands left no marks. Someone would see Megan running from the scene, with only a single weight.
It was working perfectly.
All Peter needed to do was sneak away without being seen.
Megan plodded along at a steady pace. She switched the weight from hand to hand frequently. It felt off balancing to have only one. "I should have left it behind," she muttered to herself.
She turned the corner to pass through the main shopping district nearby. She liked running near the shops; they were always well lit. The street was nearly empty with the businesses all closed at five. A few cars lingered, employees doing their cash counts or tidying up after a day of selling.
She tried not to think of anything except the satisfactory sensation of exercise.
Abruptly the sound of shattering glass caused her to spasm. Megan spun on her heel and saw the shattered window in the jewellery store. Her heart leapt. Was a robbery happening? Did they notice her? Was she in danger?
But no one emerged from the store. The alarms screeched in her ears but no one was behind her or in the store. She jogged back thinking she might catch the perpetrator's appearance, but saw nothing.
The circling lights of police cars appeared at the end of the street. Megan felt a sigh of relief that the authorities had got there before further damage could be made.
There was a sound. Megan spun around in time to see a head disappear behind the rose bush in front of the store. She recognized the guilty face.
"Peter!" She called out. Dread sank into the pit of her stomach. What was he doing there? Was he the one...?
She sprinted around the rose bush as her brother scrambled out of sight. She was right on his heels too, but something stopped her. A small creature, not of the Aboveground, waited for her.
Megan screamed, but her voice was silenced as the goblin tossed a blanket over her head. It did not land on her head though; it continued to fall to the ground. Under its falling shape, Megan disappeared. The goblin picked up the blanket and stuffed it in his sack before returning to the Underground.
Peter almost shrieked as he caught his sister's eye. He sprinted from his concealed location and dashed towards an alley. The police cars were almost there. He could not be seen nearby!
He turned around, expecting to see Megan right behind him. His heart thumped in his chest like a beating drum. It had gone so wrong. Why had it gone so wrong?
Peter pressed his back against a building, using the shadows as concealment. He hazarded a look towards the rose bush. His sister was nowhere to be found.
A strange creature emerged from where Megan should have been. Peter watched as it scurried away.
It never occurred to him that the goblin king might answer his summons, albeit at a later time.
A firm hand grabbed Peter's shoulder. "What are you doing here son?" A police officer asked.
Peter gulped. Why had it gone so wrong?