Sorry this is late, all, but Lo was been miserably sick the last few days and had neither the power or energy to muse or to write. Now that's she's back in the up-swing, we're back. Gotta get going on closing this guy out! :D
Sarah and Jareth were soon seated at the head of a high table, flanked by her friends and a few fae he introduced as councilors. The wise man was among them, and he shook Sarah's hand gravely before sitting down at Jareth's side. Much to her relief, his hat was a live and talkative thing again. "The champion returned!" it crowed.
"Hush, you," the wise man grumbled, and his rheumy eyes fixed on Sarah. "So the woman chose at last. We welcome you, Champion."
"Yes, yes, welcome!" chirped the hat.
Sarah couldn't hold back a grin at that. Instinctively, she felt herself drop into the curtsy that she had learned to perfect at pains as a child. Thinking back, it was a little too ironic to think about the hours she had practiced court gestures out of books in her play. It was almost eerie to think of, now. "I'm honored. It was not exactly an easy road."
"And Queen, as well." Jareth said, tapped his crop against his boot impatiently.
"The Labyrinth chose its champion and its queen," the old man said. "Have the goblins truly accepted her as such?"
"Oh yes," Jareth said with a droll grin. At the lower tables, the goblins were drinking dozens of toasts to Sarah, some of which ended with 'or she'll make us go splodey!' in apparent good cheer.
Sarah mostly lost herself to observing the goblins antics, shaking her head in amused disbelief while the men spoke as if she wasn't here. Which, honestly, was a relief at the moment. There was only so much of being the center of attention one could handle. That she still did have an ear cocked in their direction, thought went without saying. "She must have a crown," the hat put in, and the old man glowered at it.
"There will be a coronation," Jareth said. "Soon. Give her time, good sir. Yesterday she half disbelieved this place existed."
"Of course, of course," he muttered. "Soon, though, sire. You remember King Thydus, I trust."
"I have not forgotten," Jareth said forebodingly.
That piqued Sarah's interest, her green eyes turning back toward them; the wise man had said that name before. "Who was King Thydus?"
"My predecessor," Jareth said, in tones that suggested further inquiry would be unwelcome.
"Thydus the Unworthy," the wise man said. "He was not king for very long."
"Really? What happened to him?" Sarah asked with a curious arch of her brow, ignoring Jareth's expression.
The wise man seemed to be searching for a diplomatic response, but the hat cut in. "Goblins ate him," it chirruped.
Sarah couldn't help looking toward the low tables again then, where the goblins were – it must be said – attacking the feast. Jareth had warned her of their appalling lack of table manners, and even at this distance she could hear squabbling over the best cuts of meat, along with the occasional cutlery-rattling belch.
Jareth sighed in annoyance. "He was cursed to rule here some years before me. He failed to command the obedience of his subjects, however. When they ceased to believe he could rule them, they turned on him." He gave another brooding glance to the goblins below, two of whom were tussling over a particularly shiny fork. "But that will not happen to you, Queen Sarai. As my wise man said, the Labyrinth itself has claimed you. And you have quite impressed the goblins."
"Besides, my lady, you have us at your side," Sir Didymus said from beside her. He'd gotten through an astonishing amount of roast – though Sarah suspected some of it was going under the table, to his loyal steed. "My brothers-in-arms and I will not allow any harm to come to you. Why, I dare—"
His voice cut off with a wave of Jareth's hand. "No, good knight. A dare is something which, like fleeing prey, the goblins cannot resist. Be at peace. We will make arrangements for Sarah's coronation soon, as her schedule allows…" He gave her an indulgent look at that, mouth quirking up into a smile of affection. "And until that time, I have it in mind to cement her authority somewhat."
With those words he rose. At first the goblins didn't notice their king had stood up, but gradually some of them caught sight of him, and went still. A wave of respectful silence slowly blanketed the lower tables, broken only by the occasional fidgeting.
A cold nose pressed against Sarah's knuckles, and she slipped Ambrosius a bite of her roast, suddenly feeling too nervous to eat. Just what did Jareth have in mind?
"Citizens of Umardelin," Jareth said in a carrying voice. "On this night, we celebrate the return of our Champion, Sarai, she who is to be crowned Queen and who shall rule at my side. In honor of her valiant heart, and of her achievement, we grant her this."
A gesture, and there was a necklace in his hands, strung from chips of crystal that sparkled both dark and light, like bits of starry night sky interspersed with pieces of one of his seeing-globes. The pendant was a great silver key, ornately wrought, and the goblins gave a collective gasp.
Jareth moved to stand behind her chair, and the key was warm against her skin as he fastened it around her neck. "The key to the kingdom," Jareth said, and the goblins burst into a roaring cry of "Long live the Queen!"
"A little warning would've been nice," Sarah murmured, her hand automatically going to the key. It sent a little frisson of magic through her fingertips when she touched it, and she had the odd sensation of … almost something like a phantom limb, but much larger. As if she had a whole other body, vast and only dimly sensed, and yet containing her actual self as if a bright spark of warmth in the broader self. "Jareth, what…?"
He looked at her with interest as he sat down. "Do you sense it?"
Didymus added, sounding concerned, "My lady … your eyes are glowing golden."
"Sense what?" Sarah asked, but she knew. It was her secret heart, so carefully guarded, lapped in layers of misdirection and defense. It was everything she had denied even to herself, coming to life again in a rich fullness her teenage self could never have imagined. It was the Labyrinth, her realm, her home. And with that key under her fingertips, she could feel every inch of it as if it were part of herself.
The wise man was right; the Labyrinth had chosen her. It was part of her, and she was part of it.
Her breath came a little faster then, Sarah feeling almost as if she might get lost. This new sense was so much bigger than anything she'd ever been aware of. It reminded her of being a little kid swimming at the beach, feeling the immensity of the ocean currents around her.
Jareth put his hand over hers, gently moving it away from the key, and it was as if he'd broken an electrical current. She snapped back to herself, to the body she'd grown up in, and she blinked at him rapidly as the golden haze cleared from her vision. "What the hell just happened?" she asked shakily.
"Something unexpected," Jareth said, musing. "The land truly has chosen you. I was better than a year in this realm before she opened to me as she just did to you."
Sarah managed to take a deep breath, and touched the key again. The awareness was there again, but she didn't feel lost in it. She moved her hand away, noticing that everyone at the high table was watching her intently. Even the wise man's hat was silent for once. "Okay, that's… Jareth, any clue why it would do that?"
"Mayhap you have a little fae blood in you," he mused. "Many mortals do, particularly those of an artistic temperament. It would explain your affinity for magic."
Trying to regain her composure, she picked up a roll from the table, but had no appetite, so she slipped it under the table to the waiting Ambrosius. "And the whole thing with my eyes? I remember when the goblins attacked, it felt like I was seeing everything though gold glitter."
"The sheen of my power is iridescence," Jareth explained. "Yours, evidently, is golden. Forgive me, Sarah. Had I known the key would resonate with you so strongly, I would have presented it under more contemplative circumstances."
As he spoke, two goblins at the closest table were trying to outdo one another in a competition to see who could fit the most plums in their mouth at the same time. The results so far were messy, and Sarah chuckled. "All right. You win points for apologizing before I told you to. But seriously, Jareth, a little warning next time?"
"I promise you shall have adequate warning before your coronation, and our betrothal, and our wedding," Jareth said.
Hoggle made a disgusted noise, the wise man harrumphed, and Didymus looked surprised. Even Ludo looked around, and he had been thoroughly absorbed in a course of some sort of purple vegetable stewed with mushrooms.
Sarah held her hand up like she was trying to stop traffic … and at the moment she did feel rather like she was about to be run over. "Whoa there. Just … give that some time, okay, Your Majesty? We need to talk about all of that, and not here. Or now."
He gave an aggrieved sigh, and the wise man added, "Did you not tell me to give her time to adjust, sire?"
"Thank you," Sarah pointed out. Ambrosius was nudging her hand again, and she slipped him another roll.
Jareth scowled. "We will discuss it. And soon. You did say you would stay with me forever, Sarah, and I would have you at my side forever and a day."
She leaned back in her seat and looked at him with exasperation. "Didn't you just remind the wise man that yesterday, I didn't believe in any of this? Give me a day to adjust, for God's sake."
"Not for the sake of any god, but for your own," Jareth said at last. "Well have I learned the peril of trying to goad you before you are quite ready."
"Don't let your feathers get ruffled," she muttered. "This whole I-can-do-magic thing is going to take a while to handle, too."
Ambrosius picked that moment to start licking her fingers, and Sarah yanked her hand back. "Augh! Didymus, tell Ambrosius not to lick my hand. I'm still trying to eat, here."
The fox-knight cocked his head at her, evidently glad of a change of topic but still bemused. "My lady? Ambrosius is as my side, as ever."
She looked over, and sure enough the sheepdog was sitting on his master's other side, giving a low whine at her accusatory look. "If he's over there, then what…"
Suddenly she didn't want to know what she'd been feeding under the table, but there was really only one answer, revealed when Jareth barked a word that sparkled with magic. Unseen hands hauled a scrabbling goblin out from under the tablecloth, and Jareth grabbed it by the tail before flinging it toward the lower tables.
"Jareth!" Sarah yelped. "We do not throw the goblins, what is wrong with you?"
He just gave her a look. "We only set off magic bombs in the center of a group of them, is that it? Do not fear, Sarah. Goblins bounce. And they are quite accustomed to being thrown, tossed, or kicked when they misbehave."
"I didn't mean to actually blow them up, one, and two, they were biting me at the time," she shot back. "That's a little different than licking my hand!"
"They are not permitted at or under the high table, for precisely that reason," Jareth said. "Look, my Sarai. He is quite well. He landed in the gravy boat." A glance in that direction, and he added, "Which he is now endeavoring to drink."
She cradled her head in her palms. "Oh, Jareth. Like that's any better. Add 'methods of goblin management' to the list of discussions you and I need to have…"
