Chapter Four
Jareth joined in with the pool party fun—that's what it felt like, anyway. A pool party. He kept his wet clothes on, but there was something strangely distracting about the way the wet material clung. There was also something distracting about the way he would glance at her, over the tops of goblin stacks.
With the addition of the Goblin King in such a laidback role, the goblins took the opportunity to forget about Sarah and their games of Marco Polo; instead, they focused all their energy on trying to overpower the Goblin King. Sarah, without minding, meandered to the shallow areas, the churning water lapping at her collarbone as she watched. The goblins would climb onto each other's shoulders—she kept an eye on the ones on the bottom, it wouldn't do to have anyone drown—until there were a few of the goblin stacks. They would approach the Goblin King, who would give them bored and droll looks that clearly said: "Do your worst, I will win." As they approached, the top of the stacks would launch at him in flailing, wet limbs. And he would casually flick them away with the move of his hand. The goblins would fly through the air, splashing back into the water, laughing. Always laughing. The first time this had happened, Sarah had stiffened, but the goblins had quickly surfaced and giddily cried out in joy. It reminded her of the Williams family reunions in the summer, when it had been humid enough to get out the Slip-and-Slide, turn on the sprinklers, and her nephews had been young enough to try and crawl all over Sarah as water flowed down their faces in rivulets. She would go "Fee, fie, fo, fum! I smell the blood of children," in a bad half-rhyme, and as they squealed, she'd peel them off her legs like leeches and launch them down the Slip-and-Slide. She'd ignore Karen's warnings to be careful. The children loved every minute of it, stopping only when Sarah's arms were noodley and she'd pat her stomach and proclaim herself too hungry to continue. "Pesky children always running away, now I'm a hungry giant and I'll have burgers instead," she'd say, to their great amusement.
As she watched, she wondered if the goblins were just like children, or if sometimes they acted like grown-ups. At that moment, the Goblin King met her eye and smiled. Sarah smiled back. If this was how they were all the time, who did Jareth talk to? She froze, chasing that thought, the smile fading from her face. Luckily, the Goblin King had turned away so he could bat at a stack of goblins lazily, water dripping off the ends of his eyelashes like diamonds.
Who did Jareth talk to? Sarah wondered. He's the only human I've ever seen in the Labyrinth. Now that she thought about it, the residents of the Labyrinth had a fairy tale innocence to them. She thought of Ludo, Sir Didymus, and even Hoggle. She had felt safe with them, because there was nothing more to them than they presented—and what they presented was idyllic and innocent. Even the banter they'd done while traversing the Labyrinth had been innocent. Jareth wasn't like that at all; everything about him was enigmatic and filled with possibilities. Adult possibilities, Sarah's mind whispered.
After a while, Sarah pulled herself from the water. Her arms and legs were tired, her fingertips pruney, and she sat on a larger rock and let the goblins try to overtake their king. Of course, they didn't have a chance. When Jareth noticed her there, he called a halt to the game and confidently—somehow, even wading through water, he looked graceful—navigated out of the tarn toward Sarah.
She got a brief view of a white silk peasant blouse, the low neckline hugging his chest muscles. The pants, wet and hip-hugging, would have left little to the imagination before and now—
With a wave of his hand, Jareth's clothes were dry, and his hair styled in that familiar way. The sun was low in the horizon, so Sarah shaded her eyes and tipped her head back. She smiled and said, "Handy trick," and ignored any disappointment she felt. Which was very marginal. Very. Really.
"I have many handy tricks," Jareth answered. "Were you bored?"
Sarah also noticed he'd changed slightly. His shirt was now a blue that matched the tarn, but it still had a deep V, showing off pale skin. Sarah tried not to stare. She said, "No, just getting a bit tired. The goblins are cute and fun, but they definitely change the atmosphere, don't you think? They remind me of little kids."
"Mmm," Jareth said, glancing at the empty lake. "They'll have gone now to find food. They eat early, quiet down in the dark...yes, they're different in the dark."
"Different how?"
Jareth gave a non-committal shrug without answering. The lake, which had been a churning font of jewel blue and white froth, was placid once more. Jareth turned back to her. "I'm sorry if they broke the relaxing time you were having. I did not send them to you."
"Oh no!" she assured him, and without thinking, she reached out and patted his arm in assurance. "They were lovely, reminded me of my time as a teaching assistant in kindergarten. I did that for two years during my college studies."
"Kindergarten?"
"Mm, little kids. They're a handful. By the end of the day, I was ready to go home and have some herbal tea and read a book in silence. I imagine goblins are a little like young children—chaotic, full of energy, and saying all kinds of crazy stuff." Sarah grinned at her own memories.
"Goblins…they…" Jareth was thoughtful for a moment, and Sarah waited, wishing she could decipher the expression on his face. He was staring out at the Labyrinth again and there was such a still quiet about him as unnamed emotion flitted across his face. He didn't finish his thought.
After a moment, Sarah said, "They what?"
"Hm?" Jareth shook his head, his expression smoothing into his usual overinflated confidence. "Nothing, Precious. They are magical creatures, silly, and I'm quite convinced without a smart thought in their head. All they care about is fun, food, and friends."
"Simple creatures." Sarah paused. "What about you, Jareth? What do you care about?"
He looked at her in surprise, and maybe if she'd asked that question first, when the emotion on his face had still been raw and unguarded, he'd have answered differently. As it were, he drew himself up and smirked. "Why, the game, of course."
"Game?"
"The runners. The Labyrinth. Winning that game."
"Have there been many?" Sarah asked, curiously.
"Quite a few—not a lot recently. My time is mostly my own to spend—well, no, that's a lie. I have kingly duties, after all," he said in a very self-important voice. "And the Labyrinth is a maelstrom of chaos. I keep that at bay. But, at one time, the runners came often and provided a...welcome distraction. Yes. A bit of a challenge keeps your hand in the game."
"Were you always the villain?"
He looked at her, raising her eyebrows. "Of course. Always. A child needs someone to struggle against, don't they?"
She tipped her head in acknowledgement, perhaps to say he had done an excellent job of that very thing when she had run the Labyrinth. She said, "You never wanted to play hero?"
Jareth laughed. "Hero? Me? I wouldn't know how."
Sarah wasn't sure she believed him, anymore. He'd been downright pleasant so far. She said, "I think you've type cast yourself, Jareth."
"Type chasted?"
She smiled, shaking her head, and instead asked another question. One she only asked because they were so congenial at this moment. "If you're always the villain, do you always hit the same beats? Do you always send the Cleaners after runners, or have them meet the Helping Hands? Or—let's see, what else?"
"No." Jareth moved next to her, sitting on the grass and staring at the vista around them. "Each runner is unique, and the Labyrinth is unique to each runner."
Sarah licked her lips and said, softly, "And you? Are you unique to each runner?"
"I am the Goblin King, Sarah." He shrugged and didn't meet her gaze. "I am always terrible and frightening, threatening and tempting."
"So...the peach dream? Is that always the same?"
"No," he murmured, thoughtfully. "That was...a fancy. First and only. Something in your eyes..."
Sarah's scalp tingles at this revelation, and she wonders if she's flushed. She doesn't know what to say; she's half-amazed Jareth even said those words, although he said them so softly, almost to himself, as if he'd forgotten who he was saying them to. But there was also something magical happening, something that allowed the Goblin King and the Champion to, for this brief time, stand on equal footing. To talk candidly.
Sarah had the overwhelming urge to reach out and take the Goblin King's hand—something in his voice made the urge powerful, so much so that her fingers twitched. But ultimately, she sat quietly wondering what she should say next.
It was only a couple of dozens of seconds, maybe, that both sat quietly in their own thoughts. It was Jareth who roused himself first, perhaps remembering where he was, and who he was, and who he was talking to.
He stretched; his entire demeanor different from the reflective, quiet Goblin King of a few moments ago. He said, "I don't know why I did that silly dream! I think you read a lot of romance novels, Precious, and I picked up on it. Something in your eyes—yes, something just screamed ballroom dance and big, puffy dress."
Sarah sputtered. "I did not!" she lied. She didn't care if he knew she loved romance novels, she told herself, but there was something about Jareth that just made you want to argue.
He ignored her and said, "Are you cold? The mountain is a bit nippy. Not that I'm complaining about the wardrobe choice. If you want to stay in the outfit, I can magic a coat for you."
Sarah looked down at herself. Oh yes, the bikini. She flushed—again, she didn't care she was in a bikini, per se, but something about the way Jareth said it made it seem like a challenge. When she had been in the warm waters of the tarn, she hadn't noticed the cooler temperatures of the mountain; in fact, getting out and sitting had been nice to cool off a bit after the horseplay with the goblins. But, yes, now that he brought her attention to it, she realized it was nippy and goosepimples dotted her skin.
"I'll change back," she said. She stood, and then perhaps because it was the last thing he'd be expecting, or because it was the right thing to do, she moved closer and reached out, taking Jareth's hand and giving it a brief squeeze—something she would have done with any friend—and said, "Thank you, this was a lot of fun."
She moved toward her clothes, turning her back on the Goblin King, but saying over her shoulder, "Now, don't peek!"
She heard Jareth sigh and said, "Since when did the villain become so well-behaved? Only a Champion would get me to promise such a thing!"
Sarah grinned.
She changed quickly in the bushes, sliding her T-shirt on and then removing the bikini top. The cold whipped across her skin and she shivered, glancing at the sky. The sun was closer to the horizon, and she guessed it must be around five o'clock in the evening. When did the sun set here? What time was it back at her home?
I don't want to leave yet, she realized, and paused in buttoning up her jeans. She was having a lot of fun. She hadn't even seen her friends yet. What were Ludo and Sir Didymus and Hoggle up to? Could she ask Jareth to arrange a meeting? Time didn't matter; after all, didn't the Goblin King say he could rearrange time?
And as for the Goblin King...
She'd asked him so many questions, things she'd wondered for so long after her trip Underground, and yet she felt like she hadn't even scratched the surface of her curiosity.
She continued dressing, finishing with her jeans and sliding her feet back into her backyard sandals. She sighed, softly. Adventures came to an end, she supposed, whether she wanted them to or not.
She came back to Jareth's side and tapped him on the shoulder. "Okay. Now what? Tap my feet two times and say, 'there's no place like home'?"
Jareth turned and said, "You could stay."
Her eyes widened. "What?"
In the dimming light, he looked more imposing. He said, "You could stay for dinner."
"I—dinner?" Sarah floundered, caught off guard.
"Yes. I admit, it's usually an affair in the Labyrinth. The Goblin King never dines alone, my dinners are always in the banquet hall and always surrounded by high-ranking goblins—"
"There are goblin ranks?" Sarah said, eyebrows raising.
"It's a rotating system," Jareth said. "And so, they always want to come to dinner. Eating in the castle is one of the perks of a high rank. Also, the privilege of a plus one guest, and don't I regret adding that rule."
"Why?" Sarah asked, curious.
"Because those pesky buggers usually choose chickens as their plus one!"
Sarah grinned, charmed despite herself. "Chickens? The Goblin King, surrounded by goblins and chickens, in the banquet hall?"
Jareth nodded and muttered, "And, if I'm lucky, with the candlestick and a lack of witnesses. Damn Labyrinth chickens. Magic makes them...opinionated."
"Well, count me in, Goblin King!" Sarah said, her grin widening. "This I got to see!"
Jareth jerked, his expression clearing. "Well, well. You surprise me once again, Sarah. I thought I'd have to do more to convince you to dine with your once-enemy."
Okay, let's get one thing straight... Sarah shook her head. "All jokes aside, Jareth, the emphasis I'd like is once-enemy. You said a truce, after all." She had had many friendly thoughts about the Goblin King in the last few hours, and despite them, she wasn't ready to call him friend so she hoped he wouldn't ask to define their new, fragile relationship. Not-quite-friend-not-quite-enemy? No, not enemy at all, she thought. That time in Sarah's life—when the Goblin King had been frightful and evil and the kidnapper of her brother—was gone. And she didn't miss it.
And, even more surprising, Sarah realized, this dynamic, whatever it was, felt more exhilarating.
Author's Notes:
Sorry for the delay folks! And to come back with a shortish chapter, on top of that! But this ends the tarn interaction, and now Jareth and Sarah have established a truce, and are halfway to a friendship. I thought about cutting this down, so I could work it into the next chapter, but I had fun with the interactions between Jareth and Sarah, so in the end I kept it. And then I decided to just upload it and let it be.
So, what did you think? Please leave a comment! Next time, my update won't be nearly a year. Yeesh. And Sarah will be seeing much more of the Labyrinth - including some old friends.