A wile ago, quite late at night, the urge to write a short story called "A Promise" came over me. I still do not quite know where it came from, so you better direct either your blame or praise to my muse.
Anyway, to my astonishment a lot of people liked the story and were really very generous with their comments. Quite a few of them were adamant I should write a sequel.
Now I really wrote "A Promise" to stand on its own, and I still believe it could. But when I did start to write its sequel "The Lonely and the Lost" I realized I had to make a rather odd reference to "A Promise" what in essence was becoming a prologue. My best solution was to simply paste "A Promise" above chapter one of "The Lonely and the Lost" and send in this updated version. It will not matter much, I believe, to the people who are already following this story. But new readers might have an easier start with it.
Anyways, enjoy!
Ramowen
Disclaimer: all the usual suspects- er, I mean 'applies'.
This story is far from sweet. So watch it people, this is a -dark- one that has nothing to do with my Diamond Tears series. Just one of those things you can't get out of your mind unless you actually write it down.
PG-13 for implied violence.
A Promise
The storm was howling, rain battered the windows, the lid of a trashcan danced clanking and banging trough the street.
It was so dark outside, so dark.
Lightening crackled, harsh light blackened the shadows.
Toby cried silently, too tired and too scared to make his moans truly heard. His heart-wrenching sobs however would not stop, as if the child knew nothing else in his life but this endless grief.
"Oh Toby stop it!" Sarah said impatiently. She pushed Lancelot aside and lifted her now two-year-old sibling from his bed. He still slept in his parent's room.
The girl pulled the boy up to her shoulder and folded her arms around the tiny body. She paced the room, hoping against hope that the movement would still the child. For a second or two it seemed to help.
Thunder shook the house, drummed the doors, crashed against the temples of Sarah's aching head. Downstairs another kind of crash was heard, The crash of a plate fragmentized to dust on the tiled kitchen floor. The shrieking voice of the stepmother and the loud harsh shouts of the father. A chair was shoved out of the way and fell.
"Just like before- but worse!" muttered Sarah.
Another sharp flash of lightening and bangs of thunder, so loud the storm was practically above their very house now. The startled little boy moved in Sarah's arms, shrieked with the movement and cried a little louder, but not much.
"O, knock it off- knock it off!"
Sarah held her brother at arms length and looked at him with desperate questioning eyes.
"I can't do it again, can I? Would he take you twice?"
More harsh words drifted up from below. Sarah could not make out what the argument was about. Holding the boy like this, wondering if she dared say the words again, Sarah got a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Looking at her likeness, if only for such a short moment, made her own eyes sting. She pulled the boy against herself and hid her tears against his soft little body. Making sure she held him not too tight. He unconsciously reached for her hair and pulled.
"Auch!" Sarah said and untangled the small hand from her locks. She stared at the little arm and rubbed it gently, but the boy pulled away and squealed.
Sarah shivered and moaned herself now, her headache growing worse. Her pace agitated and frightened. Another loud bang from below and another crash of now broken plates or cups-
"No more," she whispered. "Please, no more."
Clutching the boy against her chest, she whispered the infamous words: "O God Toby- I whish the goblins would take you away, right now."
The lightning, the thunder, the dark, the silence.
Sarah was momentarily blinded by the utter darkness. The whole house seemed to hold its breath and it was silent, below.
Sarah backed against the wall. She could hear them, scurrying about. How they opened and closed the drawers, skittered under the blankets of the bed to the floor. And jumped Toby's cot to find it empty. They neared her from all sides- why not, she knew them. His Goblins.
"Mine, mine, mine."
"Give 'im to us love- you said the words."
One added in singsong "She said the wo-ords, she said the wo-ords".
In the eyes of the goblins Sarah saw an evil glee, a sparkle of menace. They moved awkwardly about the room, and threatened to come at her en masse. But they seemed also happy and self-assured- funny even.
"Get lost- get away from him!" she shouted and kicked the nearest little troll away. He bumped against the ones behind him and they all fell in a messy heap, with their high pitched mocking laughter and giggles somehow a comfort to the cowering girl.
Then, as both feared and expected, the white owl flapped its frantic wings against the French windows that opened on their own violation. The majestic bird dove into the room, swirled around and back again. Another crash of lightning and more raging thunder. In this light he stood. Jareth, the ominous Goblin King had come to claim his prize.
Hands on the windowsill, dressed in black and his cape swirling with the wind he glared at Sarah. She looked at him, still clutching her brother close, the goblins disappearing around the room.
So much the same in all his splendor and majesty, so dark and alluring and so much as she remembered him. Until she met the uneven eyes.
Jareth looked down at her with raised chin ad a sardonic smile. Highly amused with the surprise that of all people it was -Sarah- who offered her sibling -twice-. The only one who had ever beaten him at his own game. What twist of fate brought the silly girl and the boy-child under his spell again? What was her -game-? Yet, he would play it. Till the -end- this time. This time, neither would escape- neither!
"Goblin King?" she whispered.
"What? What was that?" Jareth held his hand behind his ear to hear. "Ah, so you -do- remember me. How flattering."
Sarah did not react to his quip. Jareth cocked one brow, towered over Sarah and her brother and chuckled.
"Give -me- the child." Another low chuckle. "Oh come now Sarah. What is said is said. Although I do confess to be at al loss why what was said has been said -again-. After all the trouble you went through last time to get him back."
Nothing, no reaction. Nothing more than a tremble that ran trough the girl. Fright? His beautiful feisty Sarah, who had beaten his illusions, fought his monsters- Who had rejected -him- She sat there on the cold floor cowering behind a babe? Something was very wrong here.
"You-"
"Yes?" he drawled, kneeling in front of the girl to appear so much closer. She stared away from him, did not meet his eyes. Gently he touched her chin with one gloved hand to make her turn her gaze, but she pushed him away.
"You -do- take care of your goblins- don't you? You don't really let them get hurt, do you?"
Jareth balked and sat on his knees, dumbfounded. What a totally nonsensical question. Of course he did not 'hurt' his subjects. Well, apart from the occasional kick he gave them if they were in his way. Or a stinking bath in the bog.
Icily he said "Contrary to popular belief, my dear, I do not derive pleasure from the physical discomfort of my subjects. Your brother will be a goblin- not harmed!"
Sarah gave Toby one final hug. "Take him then." And she pushed the boy into Jareth's arms.
"Just like that?" he asked, baffled. Sarah had turned to the wall and seemed to make herself a part of it. She had started crying now and refused to look up."
"Just take him and go! Please." She cried. Jareth did not move. He held the boy gingerly, but he was too shocked to stand and simply leave.
Sarah -wanted-, really truly wanted the boy taken away. And it was not some heartless decision of a spoiled brat either, the girl was truly heartbroken over the loss of the boy. Her shoulders shook from crying, grieving a true loss.
She had not called out to him to play their game again. She would not come. She simply wanted her brother away and nothing more.
Nothing.
Jareth stood, unable to comprehend or comfort the broken girl at his feet. He would probably never see her again.
Suddenly he narrowed his eyes at her and anger distorted his features. Was she using him again? What kind of twisted ploy could this be? He stepped away, into the light of his own world and held the boy a bit tighter, hesitantly. One foot still in -her- world. The boy already taken away to the other and only a dream could cross.
The child shrieked in agony. Shocked the Goblin King stared at Toby. Gently holding him up on one arm he touched the boy's ribcage with his free hand- and saw pain in the child's eyes. He rolled up Toby's shirt and gasped. The whole of the boy's left side was blotched with ugly yellow and purple marks, as if somebody had -kicked- him. In the sunlight Jareth saw scorch-marks on the child's chubby arms. Small red and broken punctures- as if somebody had pressed a burning cigarette against the tender flesh. Jareth closed his eyes- and heard that soft grief stricken voice again 'You -do- take care of your Goblins' don't you?'
Better a Goblin than exposed to tortures like this? O Great Oberon-
Better alone to take the blows than allowing the boy to receive any? How had he dared to think her weak! And if their caretakers thought so little of the youngest child, what would they not do to -her-, especially when the other was missing! Gently Jareth kissed the boy's forehead, casting a healing spell over him and finally allowing him sleep. One foot still in her world, the Goblin King turned.
"Are you sure you do not wish to fight over your brother?" Jareth asked softly, graciously kneeling at the girl's side.
With dull eyes Sarah looked up at him- she had said no- she had given him Toby- what more could he want?
"I don't understand-"
Jareth smiled sadly: "You never did."
Downstairs, the screaming had begun. Sarah heard a dull thud and her stepmother screamed again. Later she would beg. Later still she, like Sarah's own mother, would learn to keep still. It was over so much quicker if you made no sound at all.
But this second wife had not learned yet. She still fought, and screamed and kicked. And if nothing worked against her husband, than there were other ways not to be powerless.
"They -don't- deserve you! Either of you!" Jareth hissed.
At his anger, Sarah lifted her head and faced her erstwhile adversary, but only with a sideways glance. Shifting the sleeping Toby a little, Jareth made room for his right had to cup Sarah's chin and make her face him. His startled eyes grew wider, but she did not resist. From brow to cheek, Sarah's face had been blackened by a man's fist, and even now she tried to hide the mark as if the blow had been her fault, her shame.
"Oh my brave Sarah- why did you not call out for me?"
Sarah's eyes grew hard. "For you! I destroyed you-" her eyes threatened to fill with tears again.
"Hardly my dear- you destroyed our game, never me."
Still holding on to the sleeping boy, still cupping her chin, Jareth lightly touched his forehead to hers. "I promised you I would be there for you..."
Still not moving- and not moving -away-, she said "That was a dream".
Jareth chuckled lightly: "I promised you your dreams."
Sarah closed her eyes as if in pain. "But you already have my brother- I have given him to you."
Jareth swallowed. Moving his face a little upward so his nose brushed alongside hers and he felt her shiver. His lips gently caressed her forehead- he did not kiss her, but whispered in a slightly menacing voice: "If you fight me this time- If you fail -this- time, I will never, ever allow you to go home again. You will never see your parents back again. I promise you."
Jareth let go of the girl's chin, breathing the scent of her hair, trailed with his hand the blemish on her face and allowed her to feel it disappear.
Sarah still did not move. "You sound so horrible- you always did."
"I always meant what I said."
Sarah sat back now, her eyes clear and her composure calm. She looked at her sleeping brother and frowned.
"The Fay cannot work metal, my sweet. Nor steel, gold or silver. It is not in our nature."
"And so?"
With his free hand Jareth indicated his pendant. "You humans have such lovely workmanship in these matters- why waste that on Goblins. There is a very lively community of smiths and craftsmen in my Labyrinth. I think Toby will feel quite at ho-"
Sarah placed one small finger against Jareth's lips and made him stop talking with a smile. There was a fire in his mismatched eyes that made something shiver twist inside her- but she had no answer for it. Gently the Goblin King took her hand in his and kissed the tips of her fingers.
"You keep surprising me, my sweet."
Jareth helped Sarah on her feet. She looked worried at the door of the room.
"Tonight I shall cast a spell over your stepmother, giving her the good sense to leave this man and to go to your worlds law. Right now they seem to have exhausted their supply of table-wear. He will not beat her again."
"Thank you.."
Jareth made gracious little bow and waved Sarah through the French doors. She found herself back on the hill with the tree and the clock, overlooking the Labyrinth.
"You have thirteen ours from now, my Sarah."
"Your Sarah?" she joked.
Jareth smiled ever so slightly. "Come," he said reaching out to her. Behind the Goblin King the hands on the face of the clock spun like mad. At this rate, she had only seconds to make it to the Castle Behind the Goblin City to save herself and Toby. She smiled up at the King and took his hand.
The Lonely and the Lost
It was the doomed fall of 1987. The October storms had relented somewhat and the winter's chill could already be felt in the winds. It rained too often, and some dreaded the long lonely evenings in homes grown too big and too empty. Those were the ones who looked for company and comfort among strangers. Not for conversation, not for empty carnal pleasures. It was the simple wish not to be left alone.
The young disinterested waitress off the Bluebell Bar replaced the lone man's empty glass with bourbon. She took away his plate to the kitchen and made a little wager with herself. Would he still be sitting in the cozy dark wooden boot, surrounded by the three screaming empty seats upon her return? Which would mean he would leave soon and reasonably sober. Or would he have found his way to the other barflies, already waiting for his refill? She had seen his face on TV. Trying to take the hand of his wife, who almost discreetly pulled away. The pictures of his children and the description of what they might be wearing. So sad. But than again, shit happens. And it sells liquor.
The Bluebell Bar was a -nice- shadowy place where the thirty-somethings went to be 'alone' or with their mates and dates. The music was mild, sixties and early seventies, no rock. There was a billiards pool where aging young men showed off the prowess learned when the music had been new and their days spend outside office buildings. The wooden floor lay beneath a thin layer of fine sand that made little noises at the late afternoon and was easily swept away with the evening's dirt. Tobacco had left its stain on the once white walls. Creamy patches against the brown betraying places where a decoration had been removed. Luxury cars, artistically photographed with a fifties version of scantly-clad-woman on top, cartoons of movie-stars and some signed photographs of Doris Day and John Wayne. Corny wicker lamps giving faint yellowish light. And everywhere red or white plastic bulbs with slow burning candles. It was a moderate place for the moderately drunk.
Every time Robert Williams entered the bar he swore he would eat there only. Just a meal, and leave. Yet more oft than not the evening ended by the lady who served him his bourbon calling him a cab. A cab for a cad. A cab for the man who had lost not one, but two wives through his violent behavior towards them, and his children to boot. Loosing one wife was tragic, but a whole family -twice- boarded on carelessness. Behind his back, that was what was told.
The children were on milk cartons everywhere. They had been an item on local television. He had been -civil-, sitting next to that disloyal bitch that had bore him a son and then left everything to rot. He had only tried to correct them, just like his father.
He had become, just like his father.
Once, he had stood up against his father. Told him to go hang. That whatever had happened in the past was no excuse for the present.
Just like Sarah had stood up against him. He had rewarded her insolence just like his father had rewarded him. And Sarah had reacted as was predictable by now, taking the family history into account. She had upped and left. She had broken his heart.
She had broken his heart!
The more he drank the clearer the matter became.
Robert had never been drinking. Never! It wasn't his fault- he mourned his family. Who could blame him for that?
He had been strict with his children. But the world outside was dangerous. Filled with lechers. Rapists. Muggers. Boys who would get a young lovely girl like Sarah pregnant and leave her to bleed for it. The little whore.
But she had listened to him, before he was foolish enough to remarry. His little princess. He had made sure she knew he loved his little princess. In those days he had never been forced to even spank the girl. Timid and shy after her mother had walked out on them. For her so-called career! Good God what real mother could do such a thing. He had easily won the child in the divorce court. He, a respectable provider, she, a notorious adulteress and actress to boot. Even if it was the usual to give the children to the mother, he had won. And the beauty of it all was that little princess Sarah had believed her mother cared not for her anymore. Timid and shy and in love with her books and her toys. The girl had worshipped him. But then she turned twelve and needed a mothers hand to guide her too adulthood. What a mistake to make.
Robert ordered another drink.
At first he had allowed the child not to like the new mother. A caring strong woman. Who taught the girl to do homework and chores and gave the little princess responsibilities. In return he gave Karen a son.
Yet- his little Sarah fled. Turned more and more into the woman he had never wanted to lay eyes on again. So he stopped siding with the girl and allowed his new wife to control the girl even firmer. It did not work. The fantasy did not stop. The walks in the park did not stop.
Until that one-day when Sarah suddenly cleaned up her room. The toys went to the attic and a knowing smile came to her face.
No more of the timid Sarah. No more of the shy princess. No more adoring daddy. Fawning over Toby, which had to be good in its own way-
Then the boys came. And the boys went. As if the little slut was searching something in them she could not find.
He grounded her. And the first serious argument with Karen came. Karen wanted for Sarah to go out dancing. 'Having fun' the bitch called it. He had warned Karen not to talk back at him like that. He had warned her too often already.
In the hospital they had believed the fallen-of-the-stairs story and the resulting broken arm. They believed Toby's injury to be Sarah's fault, the first time at least. His son the weak spot with both the females of his household.
Control was easily regained. Over Sarah at least. The wife was harder.
Later he understood Sarah had regained the childhood memories of watching her biological mother being disciplined. Later he understood the girls compliance came not from obedience, but from being protective towards her brother. Later, just before he started to beat her up too, he had seen the defiance and loathing in the girls eyes. The hatred even. Karen had made his little princess -hate- him!
Karen had made him hurt his child- so he had made her hurt hers. It was logical and just.
So he made her put out her cigarettes on the kid. Funny how quickly some people could quit smoking. For others it took months- forever.
Funny thing, smoking.
Robert waved his emptied glass to the waitress and received his refill.
Good thing, for her at last, the little princess had stopped going to the park such an awful lot. Right after she had put away her toys. Something had happened to the girl the night she had put away her toys. That was it- that was the night it all began to fall down. The night he had lost his little princess and Sarah had begun to grow into a young woman. It was crucial, and he pounded the bar with his fist with the notion, absolutely crucial, he would find out what had happened the night Sarah put away her toys.
The waitress lifted one brow in a quizzical stare at the man who was slowly getting really drunk. An ugly drunkenness. The well-dressed businessman tended to forget where he was, making noises, pounding the bar or table- and sometimes cussing at her for the mere fact she was woman. Poor sod- First his children disappeared because his teenage daughter abducted her baby brother to run to god-knows-where, and his wife promptly leaving him- No wonder he hated women.
Before, Sarah never took many friends home. She came straight home. Or did she? Played in the park a lot. Dog for protection. Probably was not playing at all. Home at night, but by god what had the little bitch been doing during the daytime! She probably lay rotting in some ditch somewhere by now. Served her right.
O God- what -if- his little baby was laying in some ditch somewhere? What -if- she was under the spell of some cruel man? He could not protect her now- who would protect his lovely daughter? Who would bring home his only son? Who would the child be calling 'daddy'?
The King's hand felt warm beneath the black leather of his glove. A warmer hand than a human hand, Sarah observed. Yet his face was set in marble, composed and without emotion. She could not read him. It frightened her a little.
The orange red sky was streaked with purple and pink streaks as if a painter had used it to practice his stokes on. The dry desert like hill with its sparse growth threw up dust with every step, yellow dirt mingled with tiny silver sparks. Before her, in the distance, lay the majestic Labyrinth with its patchwork of puzzles, hedge mazes and forests. Sarah loved it, longed for it, had missed it with a passion she had not realized existed within her. And this frightened her a lot.
As if reading her changing mood, she felt a little assuring pinch in the hand he held and when she looked up at him, that little half smile had returned. The King pulled her a little closer to him, taking care neither of them would stumble on their leisurely walk downhill towards the outer wall of the Labyrinth.
"Doubts?" he almost whispered.
Sarah could hear the clock behind her strike one, the hour past the time of her escape. Yet somehow she got the feeling that her stay here would be a voluntary one. Jareth apparently was letting her know she -could- return, if she asked for it. Had she had any doubts at all, his question about them vanquished them.
But perhaps that had been his only intention. The Goblin King was after all nothing if not a great manipulator.
Sarah looked down, a little insecure how to respond. Did she have doubts? With her parents last argument still ringing in her ears? She glanced sideways at her one time adversary and was about to tell him no, when her jaw dropped. She stared at Jareth and had to make a conscious effort to close her mouth and meet his eyes.
"What?" he chuckled, knowing full well why the girl seemed so surprised.
She could read the amusement in his eyes that seemed a lot less cold than a moment ago. 'Oh great', she thought, 'now he thinks I'm funny.'
"Well?"
Odd how a man could say so much with so little.
"It's just that last time I looked at you, you were wearing an armor and all black-"
Jareth allowed himself that wry half-smile again. His attire had indeed changed and he was now clad in a more 'casual' outfit. A shirt of darkest green shimmering silk, cut low to reveal the dangling pendant he always wore, green tights with a vague print on them like the scales of a snake or dragon, a brown suede waistcoat, knee-high boots to match. An open forest green jacket hugged his shoulders, set off with dark brown fur and held in it's place with an elegant golden chain for his sleeves hung empty at his sides. Two rows of golden buttons sparkled when he moved. He had a dark twisted wooden cane tucked under his left arm, topped by a golden snake's head with eyes of jade, holding a crystal orb between it's ivory fangs. He shrugged and finally let go of Sarah's hand, seemingly checking if Toby was still comfortable before he turned to the girl again. Making sure she had been able to get a good look at him without thinking herself too obtrusive.
"For the remainder of the day I shall take you to my castle and tomorrow I shall show you the village I spoke about. But first I thought to reintroduce you to an old friend of yours. Since he -is- your friend I did not think it would be appropriate to look too threatening and all that."
"How considerate."
"Are you mocking me, girl?"
"Oh I would not dare. Especially now I understand you preserve the privilege of showing off, -er- up in your armor is one preserved for the cowering siblings of wished away children." Sarah stated, almost able to hold a straight face.
"Sarah-" Jareth warned while waving a finger at her. "Do not forget, you and your brother are my -loyal- subjects now."
Sarah smiled completely without fear. She was sure now there was an amused glint in Jareth's eyes that had not been there before. It certainly had been missing in their confrontation almost a year ago now.
"Yes, Your Majesty." said Sarah and she curtsied rather elegantly for a twenty century teenager.
Jareth's little smile turned wry. "You did not answer me, my sweet."
"No. No doubts."
"Good." Jareth turned away, while pointing downhill with his cane.
"Be careful now, it is getting steep here."
Again that little half smile on his features. At least he wasn't smirking at her, the smile, however small, seemed genuine. And there was just this little something about men carrying young children. Something softening in the way he carried the small burden. Something practiced. As if he was carrying babies around all the time. Which considering the number of Goblins running around was probably true. Jareth really was being very generous towards her and Toby- but she'd be damned if she said so.
"Speaking of friends- how are Hoggle and Ludo and Didymus? I mean- I haven't seen them for the longest time. I called them- but they never came back."
Jareth sighed. "Sarah-"
The girl faced the King again.
"That was my doing."
"But-"
Jareth held up the hand with the cane in a gesture to silence her.
"The portal through the mirror is opened by magic. My magic, I might add. I needed it for other purposes. I could not afford their comings and goings to your world."
For a moment he stared at the sleeping boy.
"If I had known I would have -ordered- them to you."
"So- you haven't -done- anything to them, have you?"
Jareth's gaze upon the girl was cold and he did not answer. Sarah looked away, turned and started walking again.
"No- I guess not. Sorry for asking."
She heard a sigh behind her. "Don't apologize. I have hardly given you reason to believe I would be incapable of harming them for their insubordination."
"You weren't angry with them?"
"I was infuriated! But being angry at that red beast for instance is like kicking one of his stones. He is simply not clever enough to waist my time with."
Again Sarah halted. With her fists firmly planted in her sides, she faced Jareth.
"Ludo is -not- stupid! He understands pain -and- he understands friendship and love!"
"'Understands pain? I'll make sure to remember that."
"No way I'm going to let you hurt him! He is loyal and kind and-"
"Will you move on!"
"But-"
Jareth sighed openly now.
"Sarah, I do despair sometimes- I have not hurt your friends and I will not. One of the tricks of the Labyrinth is that no one can hope to solve it without help."
"Are you telling me they were in on everything!"
"No they were not! The test whether or not the traveler can find confidants and aid is a rather useless one if my people are of a disposition to be helpful. So if anything they are taught -not- to be helpful."
Sarah nodded, mindful of tile turning brownies, silly wise-men, biting fairies, and ill advising worms.
"I see."
"Oh good. Can we get a move on then."
"Can't you just wish us where we need to be."
"No, my charming little cynic, I cannot. Now please, our destination is not far off."
Charming?
"But-"
"Sarah!" he warned.
"Oh alright- If you don't want to talk to me, then don't."
"This is not a matter of not wishing to speak to you or not. It is just a matter of not coming to a halt while we are."
The girl and the King walked in silence for a while. Then Sarah spotted a lone figure, limping slightly, spraying the swarm of tiny fairies that roamed about the outer wall.
His gruff voice drifted towards them in triumph.
"One hundred and seventy three. Ha!"
"Impressive," mumbled Jareth rather dryly and totally unimpressed. He looked at Toby again and his smile grew wide and warm in regarding the sleeping child. Sarah did not notice. She bolted down the slope and screamed.
"Hoggle!"
The Dwarf looked up at the yelling of his name in that all too familiar voice.
"What the-"
Jareth had warned Sarah the slope was steep here. Paying no heed to his warning, she stumbled, fell, rolled down a few feet and finally came to a stop at the bottom of the hill. Hoggle had run up to her, while Jareth made inhuman haste down. While Sarah was gathering her wits together, Fae and Dwarf asked in unison: "Are you alright?"
The two glared at each other. Hoggle flinched while Jareth towered over the both of them. Oblivious to the sudden animosity, Sarah scrambled forwards and embraced Hoggle with enthusiasm.
"Hoggle!" she yelled. Before he could return the embrace, Sarah turned away in disgust.
"Aw- Hoggle!" Sarah waved at the suddenly putrid air and pinched her nose. Angrily, still on her knees, She turned to Jareth.
"You said you did not harm them!"
Jareth looked down at the defiant girl and answered in a neutral voice: "I never did."
"He smells after the Bog!"
"Oh that. I forgot."
"Sarah! Girl what -is- you doing here ?"
"Did he threw you into the Bog of eternal stench?"
"Right after you left."
Sarah glared at the calm King.
"Needed you magic for something else hm?"
"Are you quite comfortable down there?"
Sarah scrambled to her feet, still mad at the King.
"Christ Jareth, how can he ever be in the neighborhood of anyone with that stench about!"
"You could ask me!" said Hoggle, not liking to be talked about as if he were not there.
"I'm sorry Hoggle- Oh how have you been al this time? I called and called for you-"
"We weren't able te gets te you."
"All of them!" Sarah exploded.
"Oh I might as well! There will be no appeasing you otherwise. Hold Toby a moment, will you."
Jareth gave the little boy to Sarah, planted his cane firmly into the reddish dirt and concentrated on conjuring up four pristine crystal spheres. He turned and twirled them in his right hand and when ready, took them with his left and blew them away like soap bubbles. One of the bubbles exploded above Hoggle. As the bubble burst and Hoggle tried to duck, a spray of silver glitter fell on the Dwarf. Immediately the stench of the Bog had disappeared.
"Four?"
"Naturally."
"Ambrosias too!"
The King held out his arms to retrieve Toby. While Sarah returned the boy, she could not help but shiver. The merry glint in Jareth's eyes had disappeared and they looked at her as cold as ever from behind a totally blank expression.
Hoggle stared dumbstruck at the King. Never before had Jareth released anyone from one of his curses, let alone from the Bog of Eternal Stench. And never in his whole life had he seen the Goblin King taking orders from anybody.
"But Sarah- what is you doing here!"
Sarah embraced the Dwarf again, this time without turning. And he shyly hugged her back. Jareth had turned away and regarded a nearby fairy with some interest. He shooed it away when it tried to sit on Toby's face.
"Oh Hoggle, I missed you and the others so much."
"We tried." Hoggle glared past Sarah at the back of the King. "But why are the two of you over here? Did he steal the kid again?"
"No- I wished him here. And followed but I am out of time already. Don't look like that. It's a long story and he's doing me a huge favor, really."
"You stuck for life 'ere an' you call it a favor! Aw he done you in real good hasn't he!"
Jareth lost patience with the conversation.
"Sarah." He called to take her. But the girl looked so lost upon his command, that he changed his mind.
"Here." He said, throwing the girl a crystal. "I am going ahead. You stay here until you have finished with Hagwarth. Then whish yourself at the castle and you will be there."
"Hoggle," muttered the Dwarf under his breath.
Sarah caught the bulb and smiled. "No clicking my heels or anything?"
"Glad to see you already regard it as 'home'."
Sarah paled. "You said you were going to take us to the village tomorrow."
"I said I would -show- you."
"You are going to separate us."
Jareth only lifted his brow.
"What use am I to you! Toby needs me! You tricked me!"
"I will see you shortly, my Sarah.", Jareth told her, while evaporating into thin air taking Toby with him.
Hoggle regarded the fuming girls sideways.
"Ye know what, I think you haves a talent for trouble girl."
"There he goes again calling me that."
"What?"
"His Sarah."
"Trouble. Definitely."
Anyway, to my astonishment a lot of people liked the story and were really very generous with their comments. Quite a few of them were adamant I should write a sequel.
Now I really wrote "A Promise" to stand on its own, and I still believe it could. But when I did start to write its sequel "The Lonely and the Lost" I realized I had to make a rather odd reference to "A Promise" what in essence was becoming a prologue. My best solution was to simply paste "A Promise" above chapter one of "The Lonely and the Lost" and send in this updated version. It will not matter much, I believe, to the people who are already following this story. But new readers might have an easier start with it.
Anyways, enjoy!
Ramowen
Disclaimer: all the usual suspects- er, I mean 'applies'.
This story is far from sweet. So watch it people, this is a -dark- one that has nothing to do with my Diamond Tears series. Just one of those things you can't get out of your mind unless you actually write it down.
PG-13 for implied violence.
A Promise
The storm was howling, rain battered the windows, the lid of a trashcan danced clanking and banging trough the street.
It was so dark outside, so dark.
Lightening crackled, harsh light blackened the shadows.
Toby cried silently, too tired and too scared to make his moans truly heard. His heart-wrenching sobs however would not stop, as if the child knew nothing else in his life but this endless grief.
"Oh Toby stop it!" Sarah said impatiently. She pushed Lancelot aside and lifted her now two-year-old sibling from his bed. He still slept in his parent's room.
The girl pulled the boy up to her shoulder and folded her arms around the tiny body. She paced the room, hoping against hope that the movement would still the child. For a second or two it seemed to help.
Thunder shook the house, drummed the doors, crashed against the temples of Sarah's aching head. Downstairs another kind of crash was heard, The crash of a plate fragmentized to dust on the tiled kitchen floor. The shrieking voice of the stepmother and the loud harsh shouts of the father. A chair was shoved out of the way and fell.
"Just like before- but worse!" muttered Sarah.
Another sharp flash of lightening and bangs of thunder, so loud the storm was practically above their very house now. The startled little boy moved in Sarah's arms, shrieked with the movement and cried a little louder, but not much.
"O, knock it off- knock it off!"
Sarah held her brother at arms length and looked at him with desperate questioning eyes.
"I can't do it again, can I? Would he take you twice?"
More harsh words drifted up from below. Sarah could not make out what the argument was about. Holding the boy like this, wondering if she dared say the words again, Sarah got a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Looking at her likeness, if only for such a short moment, made her own eyes sting. She pulled the boy against herself and hid her tears against his soft little body. Making sure she held him not too tight. He unconsciously reached for her hair and pulled.
"Auch!" Sarah said and untangled the small hand from her locks. She stared at the little arm and rubbed it gently, but the boy pulled away and squealed.
Sarah shivered and moaned herself now, her headache growing worse. Her pace agitated and frightened. Another loud bang from below and another crash of now broken plates or cups-
"No more," she whispered. "Please, no more."
Clutching the boy against her chest, she whispered the infamous words: "O God Toby- I whish the goblins would take you away, right now."
The lightning, the thunder, the dark, the silence.
Sarah was momentarily blinded by the utter darkness. The whole house seemed to hold its breath and it was silent, below.
Sarah backed against the wall. She could hear them, scurrying about. How they opened and closed the drawers, skittered under the blankets of the bed to the floor. And jumped Toby's cot to find it empty. They neared her from all sides- why not, she knew them. His Goblins.
"Mine, mine, mine."
"Give 'im to us love- you said the words."
One added in singsong "She said the wo-ords, she said the wo-ords".
In the eyes of the goblins Sarah saw an evil glee, a sparkle of menace. They moved awkwardly about the room, and threatened to come at her en masse. But they seemed also happy and self-assured- funny even.
"Get lost- get away from him!" she shouted and kicked the nearest little troll away. He bumped against the ones behind him and they all fell in a messy heap, with their high pitched mocking laughter and giggles somehow a comfort to the cowering girl.
Then, as both feared and expected, the white owl flapped its frantic wings against the French windows that opened on their own violation. The majestic bird dove into the room, swirled around and back again. Another crash of lightning and more raging thunder. In this light he stood. Jareth, the ominous Goblin King had come to claim his prize.
Hands on the windowsill, dressed in black and his cape swirling with the wind he glared at Sarah. She looked at him, still clutching her brother close, the goblins disappearing around the room.
So much the same in all his splendor and majesty, so dark and alluring and so much as she remembered him. Until she met the uneven eyes.
Jareth looked down at her with raised chin ad a sardonic smile. Highly amused with the surprise that of all people it was -Sarah- who offered her sibling -twice-. The only one who had ever beaten him at his own game. What twist of fate brought the silly girl and the boy-child under his spell again? What was her -game-? Yet, he would play it. Till the -end- this time. This time, neither would escape- neither!
"Goblin King?" she whispered.
"What? What was that?" Jareth held his hand behind his ear to hear. "Ah, so you -do- remember me. How flattering."
Sarah did not react to his quip. Jareth cocked one brow, towered over Sarah and her brother and chuckled.
"Give -me- the child." Another low chuckle. "Oh come now Sarah. What is said is said. Although I do confess to be at al loss why what was said has been said -again-. After all the trouble you went through last time to get him back."
Nothing, no reaction. Nothing more than a tremble that ran trough the girl. Fright? His beautiful feisty Sarah, who had beaten his illusions, fought his monsters- Who had rejected -him- She sat there on the cold floor cowering behind a babe? Something was very wrong here.
"You-"
"Yes?" he drawled, kneeling in front of the girl to appear so much closer. She stared away from him, did not meet his eyes. Gently he touched her chin with one gloved hand to make her turn her gaze, but she pushed him away.
"You -do- take care of your goblins- don't you? You don't really let them get hurt, do you?"
Jareth balked and sat on his knees, dumbfounded. What a totally nonsensical question. Of course he did not 'hurt' his subjects. Well, apart from the occasional kick he gave them if they were in his way. Or a stinking bath in the bog.
Icily he said "Contrary to popular belief, my dear, I do not derive pleasure from the physical discomfort of my subjects. Your brother will be a goblin- not harmed!"
Sarah gave Toby one final hug. "Take him then." And she pushed the boy into Jareth's arms.
"Just like that?" he asked, baffled. Sarah had turned to the wall and seemed to make herself a part of it. She had started crying now and refused to look up."
"Just take him and go! Please." She cried. Jareth did not move. He held the boy gingerly, but he was too shocked to stand and simply leave.
Sarah -wanted-, really truly wanted the boy taken away. And it was not some heartless decision of a spoiled brat either, the girl was truly heartbroken over the loss of the boy. Her shoulders shook from crying, grieving a true loss.
She had not called out to him to play their game again. She would not come. She simply wanted her brother away and nothing more.
Nothing.
Jareth stood, unable to comprehend or comfort the broken girl at his feet. He would probably never see her again.
Suddenly he narrowed his eyes at her and anger distorted his features. Was she using him again? What kind of twisted ploy could this be? He stepped away, into the light of his own world and held the boy a bit tighter, hesitantly. One foot still in -her- world. The boy already taken away to the other and only a dream could cross.
The child shrieked in agony. Shocked the Goblin King stared at Toby. Gently holding him up on one arm he touched the boy's ribcage with his free hand- and saw pain in the child's eyes. He rolled up Toby's shirt and gasped. The whole of the boy's left side was blotched with ugly yellow and purple marks, as if somebody had -kicked- him. In the sunlight Jareth saw scorch-marks on the child's chubby arms. Small red and broken punctures- as if somebody had pressed a burning cigarette against the tender flesh. Jareth closed his eyes- and heard that soft grief stricken voice again 'You -do- take care of your Goblins' don't you?'
Better a Goblin than exposed to tortures like this? O Great Oberon-
Better alone to take the blows than allowing the boy to receive any? How had he dared to think her weak! And if their caretakers thought so little of the youngest child, what would they not do to -her-, especially when the other was missing! Gently Jareth kissed the boy's forehead, casting a healing spell over him and finally allowing him sleep. One foot still in her world, the Goblin King turned.
"Are you sure you do not wish to fight over your brother?" Jareth asked softly, graciously kneeling at the girl's side.
With dull eyes Sarah looked up at him- she had said no- she had given him Toby- what more could he want?
"I don't understand-"
Jareth smiled sadly: "You never did."
Downstairs, the screaming had begun. Sarah heard a dull thud and her stepmother screamed again. Later she would beg. Later still she, like Sarah's own mother, would learn to keep still. It was over so much quicker if you made no sound at all.
But this second wife had not learned yet. She still fought, and screamed and kicked. And if nothing worked against her husband, than there were other ways not to be powerless.
"They -don't- deserve you! Either of you!" Jareth hissed.
At his anger, Sarah lifted her head and faced her erstwhile adversary, but only with a sideways glance. Shifting the sleeping Toby a little, Jareth made room for his right had to cup Sarah's chin and make her face him. His startled eyes grew wider, but she did not resist. From brow to cheek, Sarah's face had been blackened by a man's fist, and even now she tried to hide the mark as if the blow had been her fault, her shame.
"Oh my brave Sarah- why did you not call out for me?"
Sarah's eyes grew hard. "For you! I destroyed you-" her eyes threatened to fill with tears again.
"Hardly my dear- you destroyed our game, never me."
Still holding on to the sleeping boy, still cupping her chin, Jareth lightly touched his forehead to hers. "I promised you I would be there for you..."
Still not moving- and not moving -away-, she said "That was a dream".
Jareth chuckled lightly: "I promised you your dreams."
Sarah closed her eyes as if in pain. "But you already have my brother- I have given him to you."
Jareth swallowed. Moving his face a little upward so his nose brushed alongside hers and he felt her shiver. His lips gently caressed her forehead- he did not kiss her, but whispered in a slightly menacing voice: "If you fight me this time- If you fail -this- time, I will never, ever allow you to go home again. You will never see your parents back again. I promise you."
Jareth let go of the girl's chin, breathing the scent of her hair, trailed with his hand the blemish on her face and allowed her to feel it disappear.
Sarah still did not move. "You sound so horrible- you always did."
"I always meant what I said."
Sarah sat back now, her eyes clear and her composure calm. She looked at her sleeping brother and frowned.
"The Fay cannot work metal, my sweet. Nor steel, gold or silver. It is not in our nature."
"And so?"
With his free hand Jareth indicated his pendant. "You humans have such lovely workmanship in these matters- why waste that on Goblins. There is a very lively community of smiths and craftsmen in my Labyrinth. I think Toby will feel quite at ho-"
Sarah placed one small finger against Jareth's lips and made him stop talking with a smile. There was a fire in his mismatched eyes that made something shiver twist inside her- but she had no answer for it. Gently the Goblin King took her hand in his and kissed the tips of her fingers.
"You keep surprising me, my sweet."
Jareth helped Sarah on her feet. She looked worried at the door of the room.
"Tonight I shall cast a spell over your stepmother, giving her the good sense to leave this man and to go to your worlds law. Right now they seem to have exhausted their supply of table-wear. He will not beat her again."
"Thank you.."
Jareth made gracious little bow and waved Sarah through the French doors. She found herself back on the hill with the tree and the clock, overlooking the Labyrinth.
"You have thirteen ours from now, my Sarah."
"Your Sarah?" she joked.
Jareth smiled ever so slightly. "Come," he said reaching out to her. Behind the Goblin King the hands on the face of the clock spun like mad. At this rate, she had only seconds to make it to the Castle Behind the Goblin City to save herself and Toby. She smiled up at the King and took his hand.
The Lonely and the Lost
It was the doomed fall of 1987. The October storms had relented somewhat and the winter's chill could already be felt in the winds. It rained too often, and some dreaded the long lonely evenings in homes grown too big and too empty. Those were the ones who looked for company and comfort among strangers. Not for conversation, not for empty carnal pleasures. It was the simple wish not to be left alone.
The young disinterested waitress off the Bluebell Bar replaced the lone man's empty glass with bourbon. She took away his plate to the kitchen and made a little wager with herself. Would he still be sitting in the cozy dark wooden boot, surrounded by the three screaming empty seats upon her return? Which would mean he would leave soon and reasonably sober. Or would he have found his way to the other barflies, already waiting for his refill? She had seen his face on TV. Trying to take the hand of his wife, who almost discreetly pulled away. The pictures of his children and the description of what they might be wearing. So sad. But than again, shit happens. And it sells liquor.
The Bluebell Bar was a -nice- shadowy place where the thirty-somethings went to be 'alone' or with their mates and dates. The music was mild, sixties and early seventies, no rock. There was a billiards pool where aging young men showed off the prowess learned when the music had been new and their days spend outside office buildings. The wooden floor lay beneath a thin layer of fine sand that made little noises at the late afternoon and was easily swept away with the evening's dirt. Tobacco had left its stain on the once white walls. Creamy patches against the brown betraying places where a decoration had been removed. Luxury cars, artistically photographed with a fifties version of scantly-clad-woman on top, cartoons of movie-stars and some signed photographs of Doris Day and John Wayne. Corny wicker lamps giving faint yellowish light. And everywhere red or white plastic bulbs with slow burning candles. It was a moderate place for the moderately drunk.
Every time Robert Williams entered the bar he swore he would eat there only. Just a meal, and leave. Yet more oft than not the evening ended by the lady who served him his bourbon calling him a cab. A cab for a cad. A cab for the man who had lost not one, but two wives through his violent behavior towards them, and his children to boot. Loosing one wife was tragic, but a whole family -twice- boarded on carelessness. Behind his back, that was what was told.
The children were on milk cartons everywhere. They had been an item on local television. He had been -civil-, sitting next to that disloyal bitch that had bore him a son and then left everything to rot. He had only tried to correct them, just like his father.
He had become, just like his father.
Once, he had stood up against his father. Told him to go hang. That whatever had happened in the past was no excuse for the present.
Just like Sarah had stood up against him. He had rewarded her insolence just like his father had rewarded him. And Sarah had reacted as was predictable by now, taking the family history into account. She had upped and left. She had broken his heart.
She had broken his heart!
The more he drank the clearer the matter became.
Robert had never been drinking. Never! It wasn't his fault- he mourned his family. Who could blame him for that?
He had been strict with his children. But the world outside was dangerous. Filled with lechers. Rapists. Muggers. Boys who would get a young lovely girl like Sarah pregnant and leave her to bleed for it. The little whore.
But she had listened to him, before he was foolish enough to remarry. His little princess. He had made sure she knew he loved his little princess. In those days he had never been forced to even spank the girl. Timid and shy after her mother had walked out on them. For her so-called career! Good God what real mother could do such a thing. He had easily won the child in the divorce court. He, a respectable provider, she, a notorious adulteress and actress to boot. Even if it was the usual to give the children to the mother, he had won. And the beauty of it all was that little princess Sarah had believed her mother cared not for her anymore. Timid and shy and in love with her books and her toys. The girl had worshipped him. But then she turned twelve and needed a mothers hand to guide her too adulthood. What a mistake to make.
Robert ordered another drink.
At first he had allowed the child not to like the new mother. A caring strong woman. Who taught the girl to do homework and chores and gave the little princess responsibilities. In return he gave Karen a son.
Yet- his little Sarah fled. Turned more and more into the woman he had never wanted to lay eyes on again. So he stopped siding with the girl and allowed his new wife to control the girl even firmer. It did not work. The fantasy did not stop. The walks in the park did not stop.
Until that one-day when Sarah suddenly cleaned up her room. The toys went to the attic and a knowing smile came to her face.
No more of the timid Sarah. No more of the shy princess. No more adoring daddy. Fawning over Toby, which had to be good in its own way-
Then the boys came. And the boys went. As if the little slut was searching something in them she could not find.
He grounded her. And the first serious argument with Karen came. Karen wanted for Sarah to go out dancing. 'Having fun' the bitch called it. He had warned Karen not to talk back at him like that. He had warned her too often already.
In the hospital they had believed the fallen-of-the-stairs story and the resulting broken arm. They believed Toby's injury to be Sarah's fault, the first time at least. His son the weak spot with both the females of his household.
Control was easily regained. Over Sarah at least. The wife was harder.
Later he understood Sarah had regained the childhood memories of watching her biological mother being disciplined. Later he understood the girls compliance came not from obedience, but from being protective towards her brother. Later, just before he started to beat her up too, he had seen the defiance and loathing in the girls eyes. The hatred even. Karen had made his little princess -hate- him!
Karen had made him hurt his child- so he had made her hurt hers. It was logical and just.
So he made her put out her cigarettes on the kid. Funny how quickly some people could quit smoking. For others it took months- forever.
Funny thing, smoking.
Robert waved his emptied glass to the waitress and received his refill.
Good thing, for her at last, the little princess had stopped going to the park such an awful lot. Right after she had put away her toys. Something had happened to the girl the night she had put away her toys. That was it- that was the night it all began to fall down. The night he had lost his little princess and Sarah had begun to grow into a young woman. It was crucial, and he pounded the bar with his fist with the notion, absolutely crucial, he would find out what had happened the night Sarah put away her toys.
The waitress lifted one brow in a quizzical stare at the man who was slowly getting really drunk. An ugly drunkenness. The well-dressed businessman tended to forget where he was, making noises, pounding the bar or table- and sometimes cussing at her for the mere fact she was woman. Poor sod- First his children disappeared because his teenage daughter abducted her baby brother to run to god-knows-where, and his wife promptly leaving him- No wonder he hated women.
Before, Sarah never took many friends home. She came straight home. Or did she? Played in the park a lot. Dog for protection. Probably was not playing at all. Home at night, but by god what had the little bitch been doing during the daytime! She probably lay rotting in some ditch somewhere by now. Served her right.
O God- what -if- his little baby was laying in some ditch somewhere? What -if- she was under the spell of some cruel man? He could not protect her now- who would protect his lovely daughter? Who would bring home his only son? Who would the child be calling 'daddy'?
The King's hand felt warm beneath the black leather of his glove. A warmer hand than a human hand, Sarah observed. Yet his face was set in marble, composed and without emotion. She could not read him. It frightened her a little.
The orange red sky was streaked with purple and pink streaks as if a painter had used it to practice his stokes on. The dry desert like hill with its sparse growth threw up dust with every step, yellow dirt mingled with tiny silver sparks. Before her, in the distance, lay the majestic Labyrinth with its patchwork of puzzles, hedge mazes and forests. Sarah loved it, longed for it, had missed it with a passion she had not realized existed within her. And this frightened her a lot.
As if reading her changing mood, she felt a little assuring pinch in the hand he held and when she looked up at him, that little half smile had returned. The King pulled her a little closer to him, taking care neither of them would stumble on their leisurely walk downhill towards the outer wall of the Labyrinth.
"Doubts?" he almost whispered.
Sarah could hear the clock behind her strike one, the hour past the time of her escape. Yet somehow she got the feeling that her stay here would be a voluntary one. Jareth apparently was letting her know she -could- return, if she asked for it. Had she had any doubts at all, his question about them vanquished them.
But perhaps that had been his only intention. The Goblin King was after all nothing if not a great manipulator.
Sarah looked down, a little insecure how to respond. Did she have doubts? With her parents last argument still ringing in her ears? She glanced sideways at her one time adversary and was about to tell him no, when her jaw dropped. She stared at Jareth and had to make a conscious effort to close her mouth and meet his eyes.
"What?" he chuckled, knowing full well why the girl seemed so surprised.
She could read the amusement in his eyes that seemed a lot less cold than a moment ago. 'Oh great', she thought, 'now he thinks I'm funny.'
"Well?"
Odd how a man could say so much with so little.
"It's just that last time I looked at you, you were wearing an armor and all black-"
Jareth allowed himself that wry half-smile again. His attire had indeed changed and he was now clad in a more 'casual' outfit. A shirt of darkest green shimmering silk, cut low to reveal the dangling pendant he always wore, green tights with a vague print on them like the scales of a snake or dragon, a brown suede waistcoat, knee-high boots to match. An open forest green jacket hugged his shoulders, set off with dark brown fur and held in it's place with an elegant golden chain for his sleeves hung empty at his sides. Two rows of golden buttons sparkled when he moved. He had a dark twisted wooden cane tucked under his left arm, topped by a golden snake's head with eyes of jade, holding a crystal orb between it's ivory fangs. He shrugged and finally let go of Sarah's hand, seemingly checking if Toby was still comfortable before he turned to the girl again. Making sure she had been able to get a good look at him without thinking herself too obtrusive.
"For the remainder of the day I shall take you to my castle and tomorrow I shall show you the village I spoke about. But first I thought to reintroduce you to an old friend of yours. Since he -is- your friend I did not think it would be appropriate to look too threatening and all that."
"How considerate."
"Are you mocking me, girl?"
"Oh I would not dare. Especially now I understand you preserve the privilege of showing off, -er- up in your armor is one preserved for the cowering siblings of wished away children." Sarah stated, almost able to hold a straight face.
"Sarah-" Jareth warned while waving a finger at her. "Do not forget, you and your brother are my -loyal- subjects now."
Sarah smiled completely without fear. She was sure now there was an amused glint in Jareth's eyes that had not been there before. It certainly had been missing in their confrontation almost a year ago now.
"Yes, Your Majesty." said Sarah and she curtsied rather elegantly for a twenty century teenager.
Jareth's little smile turned wry. "You did not answer me, my sweet."
"No. No doubts."
"Good." Jareth turned away, while pointing downhill with his cane.
"Be careful now, it is getting steep here."
Again that little half smile on his features. At least he wasn't smirking at her, the smile, however small, seemed genuine. And there was just this little something about men carrying young children. Something softening in the way he carried the small burden. Something practiced. As if he was carrying babies around all the time. Which considering the number of Goblins running around was probably true. Jareth really was being very generous towards her and Toby- but she'd be damned if she said so.
"Speaking of friends- how are Hoggle and Ludo and Didymus? I mean- I haven't seen them for the longest time. I called them- but they never came back."
Jareth sighed. "Sarah-"
The girl faced the King again.
"That was my doing."
"But-"
Jareth held up the hand with the cane in a gesture to silence her.
"The portal through the mirror is opened by magic. My magic, I might add. I needed it for other purposes. I could not afford their comings and goings to your world."
For a moment he stared at the sleeping boy.
"If I had known I would have -ordered- them to you."
"So- you haven't -done- anything to them, have you?"
Jareth's gaze upon the girl was cold and he did not answer. Sarah looked away, turned and started walking again.
"No- I guess not. Sorry for asking."
She heard a sigh behind her. "Don't apologize. I have hardly given you reason to believe I would be incapable of harming them for their insubordination."
"You weren't angry with them?"
"I was infuriated! But being angry at that red beast for instance is like kicking one of his stones. He is simply not clever enough to waist my time with."
Again Sarah halted. With her fists firmly planted in her sides, she faced Jareth.
"Ludo is -not- stupid! He understands pain -and- he understands friendship and love!"
"'Understands pain? I'll make sure to remember that."
"No way I'm going to let you hurt him! He is loyal and kind and-"
"Will you move on!"
"But-"
Jareth sighed openly now.
"Sarah, I do despair sometimes- I have not hurt your friends and I will not. One of the tricks of the Labyrinth is that no one can hope to solve it without help."
"Are you telling me they were in on everything!"
"No they were not! The test whether or not the traveler can find confidants and aid is a rather useless one if my people are of a disposition to be helpful. So if anything they are taught -not- to be helpful."
Sarah nodded, mindful of tile turning brownies, silly wise-men, biting fairies, and ill advising worms.
"I see."
"Oh good. Can we get a move on then."
"Can't you just wish us where we need to be."
"No, my charming little cynic, I cannot. Now please, our destination is not far off."
Charming?
"But-"
"Sarah!" he warned.
"Oh alright- If you don't want to talk to me, then don't."
"This is not a matter of not wishing to speak to you or not. It is just a matter of not coming to a halt while we are."
The girl and the King walked in silence for a while. Then Sarah spotted a lone figure, limping slightly, spraying the swarm of tiny fairies that roamed about the outer wall.
His gruff voice drifted towards them in triumph.
"One hundred and seventy three. Ha!"
"Impressive," mumbled Jareth rather dryly and totally unimpressed. He looked at Toby again and his smile grew wide and warm in regarding the sleeping child. Sarah did not notice. She bolted down the slope and screamed.
"Hoggle!"
The Dwarf looked up at the yelling of his name in that all too familiar voice.
"What the-"
Jareth had warned Sarah the slope was steep here. Paying no heed to his warning, she stumbled, fell, rolled down a few feet and finally came to a stop at the bottom of the hill. Hoggle had run up to her, while Jareth made inhuman haste down. While Sarah was gathering her wits together, Fae and Dwarf asked in unison: "Are you alright?"
The two glared at each other. Hoggle flinched while Jareth towered over the both of them. Oblivious to the sudden animosity, Sarah scrambled forwards and embraced Hoggle with enthusiasm.
"Hoggle!" she yelled. Before he could return the embrace, Sarah turned away in disgust.
"Aw- Hoggle!" Sarah waved at the suddenly putrid air and pinched her nose. Angrily, still on her knees, She turned to Jareth.
"You said you did not harm them!"
Jareth looked down at the defiant girl and answered in a neutral voice: "I never did."
"He smells after the Bog!"
"Oh that. I forgot."
"Sarah! Girl what -is- you doing here ?"
"Did he threw you into the Bog of eternal stench?"
"Right after you left."
Sarah glared at the calm King.
"Needed you magic for something else hm?"
"Are you quite comfortable down there?"
Sarah scrambled to her feet, still mad at the King.
"Christ Jareth, how can he ever be in the neighborhood of anyone with that stench about!"
"You could ask me!" said Hoggle, not liking to be talked about as if he were not there.
"I'm sorry Hoggle- Oh how have you been al this time? I called and called for you-"
"We weren't able te gets te you."
"All of them!" Sarah exploded.
"Oh I might as well! There will be no appeasing you otherwise. Hold Toby a moment, will you."
Jareth gave the little boy to Sarah, planted his cane firmly into the reddish dirt and concentrated on conjuring up four pristine crystal spheres. He turned and twirled them in his right hand and when ready, took them with his left and blew them away like soap bubbles. One of the bubbles exploded above Hoggle. As the bubble burst and Hoggle tried to duck, a spray of silver glitter fell on the Dwarf. Immediately the stench of the Bog had disappeared.
"Four?"
"Naturally."
"Ambrosias too!"
The King held out his arms to retrieve Toby. While Sarah returned the boy, she could not help but shiver. The merry glint in Jareth's eyes had disappeared and they looked at her as cold as ever from behind a totally blank expression.
Hoggle stared dumbstruck at the King. Never before had Jareth released anyone from one of his curses, let alone from the Bog of Eternal Stench. And never in his whole life had he seen the Goblin King taking orders from anybody.
"But Sarah- what is you doing here!"
Sarah embraced the Dwarf again, this time without turning. And he shyly hugged her back. Jareth had turned away and regarded a nearby fairy with some interest. He shooed it away when it tried to sit on Toby's face.
"Oh Hoggle, I missed you and the others so much."
"We tried." Hoggle glared past Sarah at the back of the King. "But why are the two of you over here? Did he steal the kid again?"
"No- I wished him here. And followed but I am out of time already. Don't look like that. It's a long story and he's doing me a huge favor, really."
"You stuck for life 'ere an' you call it a favor! Aw he done you in real good hasn't he!"
Jareth lost patience with the conversation.
"Sarah." He called to take her. But the girl looked so lost upon his command, that he changed his mind.
"Here." He said, throwing the girl a crystal. "I am going ahead. You stay here until you have finished with Hagwarth. Then whish yourself at the castle and you will be there."
"Hoggle," muttered the Dwarf under his breath.
Sarah caught the bulb and smiled. "No clicking my heels or anything?"
"Glad to see you already regard it as 'home'."
Sarah paled. "You said you were going to take us to the village tomorrow."
"I said I would -show- you."
"You are going to separate us."
Jareth only lifted his brow.
"What use am I to you! Toby needs me! You tricked me!"
"I will see you shortly, my Sarah.", Jareth told her, while evaporating into thin air taking Toby with him.
Hoggle regarded the fuming girls sideways.
"Ye know what, I think you haves a talent for trouble girl."
"There he goes again calling me that."
"What?"
"His Sarah."
"Trouble. Definitely."