Standard disclaimer applies.
Important note: You've probably noticed by now that this is not the promised 'Of Comings and Goings' Part II. That's because I only ended up with about ¾ of a chapter and decided to go back to the original plan and just make one. So if you haven't read it, this won't make too much sense.
It may be too vague anyway, I don't expect the chapter to be overly loved, it's mostly characterization and set up. Forgive me, and please stick with me. Things get more exciting from here on in, and somewhat more explanatory.
Thanks to all those who have reviewed!
And I hope Kessie/Somewherethatsgreen isn't going to sue me for my character development. Je t'adore cherie!
Without further ado . . . .
Persephone
Chapter 10
Triangles
Lyja tapped her foot rhythmically against the throne room's stone floor. It did nothing to alleviate her boredom. Every day underground felt utterly familiar, but the most recent were particularly lacking in excitement. After the girl's arrival, the Goblin King forced the castle into as utter silence as could be brought upon goblins. Jareth himself halted his usual periods of brooding on the throne. He seemed to have disappeared; Lyja knew better. She envied every moment he spent doting over the mortal pet she so desperately longed to be. Dwelling on it wouldn't help. And then, he was there. A cry of delight stifled in Lyja's throat as her king shimmered into view. He sprawled carelessly in on the dais, looking exhausted. One hand braced against his forehead, fingers rubbing his temples, while silver blonde wisps fell forward to his eyes.
She moved to go to him, but was immediately stopped by the little goblin man who seemed glued to her side all to often these days. "What is it Shel?" she asked tersely.
He stared up at her. "Nothing . . . I just wanted to talk to you."
Lyja sighed. Now her king conversed with another, her chance was lost. "So talk," she slumped back against the wall.
"Well, I . . . um . . . I . . . it's like . . ."
"Shel?"
"Yes Lyja?"
If she couldn't entertain herself with Jareth, then Shel would just have to do. She could make him amusing, with some effort. "You're serving at dinner tonight. Yes?" He nodded. Lyja smiled, enjoying every moment of making him think she cared. "Do you think you could do me a favor?"
Shel beamed, pride seeping through to his ears. "Anything for you Lyja."
"For me, oh how sweet," she teased, wrapping him around her little finger.
"What do you need me to do?"
"It's just a little thing really," she crooned. "Hardly worthy of your time. But you remember our little talk about Sarah?" She leaned down and dragged two fingers across his cheek. "And how no one underground likes her being here? Someone needs to tell his Majesty." This, she had to admit, was really quite like taking candy from a baby, or pawning your chores off on a younger sibling. Nevertheless, it was devilishly exciting.
"But Gilda does," Shel's face lended itself to confusion easily.
"You don't, I don't, and trust me the others don't," she closed the distance between them. "You do trust me don't you Shel?"
Shel blushed, his ears turning pink "Of course I do, it's just . . ."
Lyja turned away, a wicked grin forming on her face now that her back was turned to him. "You don't think you can do it? Not even for me?" her voice dripped with feigned injury.
Shel took a deep breath. "Do we really need . . . ."
"Yes!"
"But . . . ." he tried again. Going against the king was wrong, but if Lyja was asking . . . .
" If you're not goblin enough, I'll find someone else."
In an instant Shel decided. He couldn't let her think he wasn't a man. "I can handle it fine."
"Oh, Shel," she crooned. "It means a lot to me."
"What do you want me to say?"
Certainly, she wouldn't allow the little goblin man to create his own speech. Disaster lurked down that path. Shel's dialogue with the king had more purpose than sole amusement. She needed to plant seeds that could take root in his mind, and the minds of those they claimed for whom to speak. Seeds to water with tears. "Why don't you come with me Shel?"
He looked up, wide eyed and hopeful. "With you Lyja?"
"Yes," slowly a smile spread over her features. He thought she looked more radiant than ever before. "We can go, and discuss this." She glanced around the throne room, cluttered with goblins as always, "alone."
"Of course Lyja." She was paying attention to him, nothing could be better. Talking to the king was a small price to pay. Slowly she spun away, beckoning him to follow. Shel felt a deeper blush run to the roots of his hair, and followed her out of the room.
~ ~ ~ ~
Shel set the wine glass before his king with a clatter. Delicate crystal threatened to overturn; instead, a few drops of red stained the silvery table cloth. "Your Majesty," he stammered.
Jareth waved a hand dismissively. "Never mind it Shoal." He rubbed his temples with the other hand, fighting off a headache still. Sarah's reawakening and further adamancy not to leave her room was particularly tiring. And she still did not know she'd been abed for three days. That would be a confrontation in itself. Besides the continued letters from Navarre, a headache in themselves.
"Shel."
"Whatever."
"Your Majesty," Shel tried again, dabbing pointlessly at the already set stain. "I'd like, um . . . Some of us were wondering . . . um, . . um." He looked to Lyja, (cloistered in a dark corner of the dining room) for assistance. She merely raised an eyebrow; he wouldn't amuse her nearly so much if she helped, better to let him stumble forward alone. Metaphorically, her gesture threw the ball to him, so Shel rambled on. "Your Majesty, we, that is your subjects. Yes subjects, very humble ones at that, we were thinking, yes that's right. We were thinking, I was saying, . . . . I mean, I am speaking right now, to you, the king and . . . . well we thought . . . . ," he stopped, out of breath. Lyja stifled a laugh, thankful the darkness hid her face.
"That?" Jareth prompted.
"That the girl . . . . ," he looked up pensively.
"What of her?" the king rubbed his temples with more force. 'The girl' had caused him enough trouble for one day.
"Her name is Sarah," Shel offered meekly. Lyja clapped a hand over her mouth.
"I'm aware," he groaned.
"Well . . ."
"Speak up and leave if you please," the king ordered coolly.
Shel took a deep breath. He could do this, especially when Lyja was watching.
"We don't think, that is we your subjects, that is we the goblins . . . ."
"You said that already," Jareth interrupted quickly.
"We don't approve of her as a potential queen!"
Jareth raised one eloquent eyebrow, leaning forward across the table as he did. "I do not recall having asked your opinion, Smell."
"Shel," his eyes fell to the floor.
"Nor did I demand the opinion of anyone! As you said, you are my subjects." He did not care for their opinions, but the insubordination of the comment came as a surprise, as his goblins did not usually engage in much thought. Then again, his eyes fell on a certain shadowed female when her near silent giggles reached his ears. Perhaps it wasn't really anything new. "Look me in the eye and say it again," he commanded.
Slowly, the goblin man's gaze rose from the floor to meet his lord's for a brief moment. "We don't . . . ." his voice broke; the contest finished. Shel looked away, blinking rapidly to recover himself.
"As I thought. Now, get out of sight before my good humor passes."
Shel ran.
Laughter erupted in full force in the corner. The look on his face, both of their faces nearly brought her to tears. The venture had been worth spending time with the scab. "Lyja," her moody king demanded, so she slinked to his side.
"Well done your Majesty, but why let him go?" she teased, hanging down over the back of his chair.
Jareth reached up, sharply grabbed her forearm and spun the woman down to genuflect at his feet. "Because the words were not his own," he snapped.
Lyja pulled herself closer to his feet, moving to rest her elbows on his knees and stare up. "What if he speaks the truth?"
Abruptly, Jareth stood, spilling her to the ground before him once again. One boot pushed her away at the shoulder. Lyja frowned, gradually with intent to allure, but her charm was lost on him. She moved her hand to her shoulder, ignoring the pain to savor the contact, however brief. How wonderful it would be to stay by his side, even his feet forever. "Then it is of no consequence," he interjected into her thoughts. "In either event, they are hardly capable of having a worthwhile opinion."
"That may be so, Majesty," she teased the title as if tasting fine wine. "But don't the rest of us count for anything?"
"As you speak of yourself, the answer is no."
Lyja completely ignored his brutal remark, fascinated as she was by his moving lips. She wrapped an arm around his leg, seductively rising alongside him, letting one hand trail behind her. As her lingering hand reached mid-thigh, Jareth jabbed with one knee to throw her off once more. "I grow tired of you."
"Then why don't you rest," she said, low tones layered into her husky voice.
"Of you," he repeated. Jareth snapped his fingers and the Lyja found herself looking into the blackness of an oubliette. Quietly, he sat back down and ate in solitude. Thoughts of Sarah echoed through the silence.
~ ~ ~ ~
Shel and Gilda too shared a abnormally silent meal in the empty kitchen. She studied his face, noticing lines of worry that usually were indistinguishable on goblin skin. "How was your day?"
"It went alright. Yours?"
"Rather boring. Being stuck in the kitchen itself usually is," she struggled to create conversation, but Shel seemed preoccupied. And it all sounded so formal, so distant; this was not at all normal between them.
"Yeah," he watched the hall. Gilda sighed, so he tried harder. "So you didn't do anything interesting at all?"
"I didn't even get to go see Sarah."
"That's to bad." He craned his neck to see more of the hall.
"It is." Gilda narrowed her eyes. Usually, Shel would attempt to say something veiled or witty about Sarah and how she shouldn't be there. It never was witty, and but she missed his attention, even if the topic was like a burr in their relationship. There was precious little else to discuss in the labyrinth.
Shel got up hastily and placed dirty dishes in the sink. Lyja should have come to talk to him by now, granted she thought he'd be waiting in the throne room. Lyja must have sorted things out, she was smart like that. "Ah, Gilda, I've got to go. See you later." He darted from the room without a backward glance.
Gilda stared after him, confusion apparent in her face. Where could Shel possibly have to go with the king's dinner nearly over? He always stayed with her so they could eat together.
Shel had never before dared to speak directly with the king, today he was going to do it twice. He wandered back to the king's dinning hall and quietly admitted himself. Surprisingly, the monarch still lounged in the anteroom, having taken a seat in a grand armchair before the fire. He sipped absently at a drink while pouring through a strangely colored book as if thirsty only for it's contents. "Your Majesty?" he queried.
"What do you think of this? 'Drama club, art classes with Sarah, and Shakespearian egg rolls forever! I love you all will forever be known as the one who got Sar and Brent together. Go me! Well, here's to Julliard! Madeline Aldrich.'" He read aloud to no one in particular.
"Your Majesty?"
This time, Jareth looked up from the series of black and white photographs depicting face after face. "I thought I told you to leave."
"You did sire. I will. But I was looking for Lyja," he stuttered.
"You'll find her in the oubliette. Now be gone or you'll join her."
Shel obeyed, cursing his lack of courage and wondering what to do. He took the king at his word, and returned to Gilda who was patiently waiting where he had left her. Meanwhile, Jareth resumed his reading.
~ ~ ~ ~
"She will be queen! You! You have your drink and your party after your work is though and even more often than is tolerable. I have been I fair rex, now I ask you all to be honest with me for a single moment." The king paced before his goblin subjects; assembled in a nearly orderly line such that they almost didn't look like a joke. Almost. "Did any of you truly express concern at the arrival of Lady Sarah?" A general shaking of heads; no they had not. "Well then, what is the opinion of the populace?"
Most of the faces regarded him blankly. Few more than three showed some spark of concern at the question. Gilda looked on in surprise, wondering exclusively what Sarah would say if she were to hear of his plans for her. No danger there, with her still in her chambers. Shel watched in indignation, disbelieving that they could tell Lyja the truth, yet not their ruler when he demanded it.
The third figure was a younger goblin woman, graced with nearly smooth skin and violet eyes that set her apart from the already rare female goblins. She spoke up guardedly, "It would be nice, your Majesty. To have a queen."
"And then we could have a wedding!" an inebriated goblin slurred.
"I love weddings! Drinks all around!" another lifted a keg and a wave from their master allowed chaos to retake the hall.
Jareth grimaced, no goblins would be at his wedding, when it inevitably came to pass. Despite the fact Sarah still refused to leave her room claiming illness, it would happen and he had time. The king redirected a final sweeping glance over his subjects. They had no opinion just as he thought; their lacking intelligence was indeed evident. And with Lyja locked away in the oubliette, they wouldn't be getting one, ever.