Lookie, chapter two! Woot. Thanks for all the great reviews, I honestly
had no idea whether people would like this idea or not. n.n And I can't
believe I forgot to credit Cormak3032 for being my editor/general sounding
board! *gasp!* n.n Thanks hon! *DB lollipops to Corrie*
Disclaimer-type thingie: Sheesh, if I owned any of this stuff, I'd be a lot richer than I am right now and I wouldn't have to settle for writing fanfics. ^_~
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Jareth awoke in a cold sweat from some very disturbing dreams , spurred awake by a frantic sense of urgency. He had to get to Sarah! He shook a few stray twigs from his wings as he dove out of his hiding place, not even bothering to make sure that it was safe. Predators be damned, he had to go to her, now! He barely missed colliding with some branches more than once in his singleminded determination to reach his goal, his mind racing. Had something happened to her?
He alighted on his favourite branch outside her bedroom window, panting hard. He could see her lying in bed, facing the wall opposite him. She rolled over, mumbling something in her sleep.
She was perfectly fine.
Jareth puffed out his feathers and shook himself, genuinely confused. She was fine. Nothing was wrong. There was absolutely no reason for his inexplicable need to come to her. In fact, the feeling had subsided as if it had never existed at all.
He studied her sleeping form as he puzzled over this latest development. True, he had wanted to check up on her during the past week, something he had dismissed as nothing more than a nagging sense of curiosity. Certainly nowhere near as powerful as what had torn him from a sound, if troubled, sleep moments before. He had been perfectly content to wallow in his misery, faced with the certainty that he was doomed to live out the rest of his days in his owl form. He really didn't want to see her ever again; her, the girl he had entrusted with a part of his power, only to have it all ripped away from him with those careless last words. So what had made him come to her now?
Maybe that was it, he realized with a start. There must be some connection still, and he was reacting to it. Jareth felt the first shimmer of hope he'd felt all week. It was a pity he hadn't realized this sooner. Madness hadn't been the first thing to claim him, as he had predicted at the start. Instead, depression had sunk in, a sense of loss and failure so overwhelming that he'd almost decided to put an end to his misery. Jareth shuddered. He would never forget that feeling for as long as he lived. But at least it was over now. He had a chance to reclaim what was his after all.
Still, one thing nagged at him. Why had he reacted like he had? Something had clearly triggered his headlong race to get to Sarah, in the middle of the night, when there was clearly nothing amiss. Something... the question was, what?
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Sarah lingered in bed long after her alarm clock went off, wanting to avoid leaving the comfort of her warm blankets for as long as possible. It was Saturday, and that meant that she had to help with yard work. Not her favourite pastime under normal circumstances, but Karen had decided that the fence needed to be re-painted, and since the old paint was chipped and peeling, it needed to be scraped off. All the more reason for her to stay in bed. Sarah snuggled down deeper under the covers, wondering if her stepmother would buy the excuse that she felt too ill to work.
No such luck. Karen came in a few moments later, demanding that her stepdaughter get out of bed and help. She rolled her eyes, clearly unconvinced as Sarah moaned about how sick she was. Perhaps she had been a bit too dramatic about it, Sarah mused as she was finally nagged into getting up 15 minutes later. Oh well, it really was too nice of a day to stay inside anyway.
Armed with a little metal paint scraper and a walkman, Sarah set to removing bits of paint from the old fence out back. After about three hours of toiling away in the hot sun, she decided it was time for a hard- earned break. Judging from where the sun was hanging in the bright spring sky, it was past lunch anyway. She wiped the sheen of sweat from her forehead as she dropped the scraper onto the grass. She was well aware that she probably looked awful, all sticky with perspiration. There were flakes of paint stuck to her skin and clothing, and probably in her hair, too. Too bad she couldn't just hop in the shower, but her stepmother would insist that she finish the other half of the fence, so she'd really just end up getting hot and dirty all over again. At least she wasn't trying to impress anyone, she thought as she wandered into the kitchen.
Someone had thoughtfully made some lemonade, and Sarah poured herself a glass before heading back out onto the back porch. As much as she'd have liked to stay in the much cooler house, she knew that Karen would pitch a fit if Sarah got paint chips on any of her furniture. She took a seat on the porch steps and absently surveyed her handiwork as she sipped her drink.
A slight rustle in the branches above her caught her attention, and she looked up to see a familiar barn owl perched in the tree by her window, glaring at her balefully. Sarah smoothed down her messy hair self- consciously as the owl turned and moved further down the leafy branch, out of sight. It reminded her so strongly of the being she had defeated only a week before that she had to fight the urge to flee back into the house.
'You're being ridiculous, Sarah,' she told herself. That barn owl had been around for years; there was no reason for her to feel so paranoid around it now. She certainly hadn't heard from the Goblin King since that night, and according to her friends, he was gone from the Underground. They had said 'gone' with such a sense of finality that Sarah had wondered if he was dead, but no, Hoggle assured her, he was just gone. Sarah had felt relieved; after all, she didn't wish him any harm, despite how he had manipulated her. He was an arrogant, childish, temperamental prick of a king, but that didn't mean she wanted him to die. In any case, he was gone, and so she likely wouldn't hear from him again. But on the other hand...
She searched the branches for another glimpse of the owl, but he had either left or was keeping out of sight. The look he had given her... if the Goblin King wasn't in the Underground, then it was possible that he was here...
"Argh! Stop it, Sarah! You're being paranoid again!" Of course it seemed to be giving her a dirty look; owls always looked irritated. She finished off the rest of the lemonade and got up to put the empty glass in the dishwasher. She caught sight of the owl again on the way inside, but it was gone when she came out again. With a shrug, she picked up her paint scraper and went back to her task, eager to finish and take that shower.
It was another hour or so before she noticed that the back gate was open and realized that she hadn't seen Merlin in awhile.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
He'd have to be less conspicuous in the future, Jareth decided as he sat in one of the trees across from the girl's house. After all, if she started to entertain suspicions in that pretty head of hers, he'd never be able to get his powers back. Not that he had any ideas just yet, but he was almost positive that it would be easier with her cooperation, even if it was unwitting.
Still, his reaction that morning puzzled him. The most logical conclusion was that he was still connected to his powers, certainly, yet he had no way of drawing on them. Had he truly been cut off from them, he shouldn't feel any sort of link to them at all, and yet he did, so by all rights he should still be able to use them. It didn't make any sense. If he still felt drawn to them, why couldn't he harness them?
Still, it gave him something to strive for. He just had to figure out why his powers seemed to be blocked from him, and then it was simply a matter of time before he found a way around this little problem. All was not lost. And to think that the night before, he'd been ready to just give up. Him, the Goblin King, admit defeat.
'This isn't over yet, dear Sarah,' he thought as he snatched up a squirming fieldmouse, 'I will have my revenge.' It was, after all, the girl's fault that he's had to suffer so.
He abruptly dropped the mouse he'd been eating as a familiar scream pierced the air. Jareth's stomach lurched as he took to the sky, heading towards the source of the shriek. 'Sarah...' he wanted to cry out as he raced forward. That girl had better be alright, or he'd never forgive whoever was responsible. Because then he'd never get his powers back, he added quickly.
He nearly overshot the sign he'd chosen to land on when he finally spotted her, inertia almost making him do a faceplant in the pavement below. He re- balanced quickly, heart threatening to burst out of his ribcage from his mad flight to get to her in time. She was kneeling in the middle of the street, doubled over with her hair hanging in front of her face. There was a navy blue car with it's front bumper mere inches from her, the vehicle's door left hanging ajar. A middle-aged woman, presumably the driver, was talking frantically into a payphone to his left. Jareth's breath caught in his throat. For one heart-stopping moment, he thought that his Sarah had been hit.
He finally managed to catch a glimpse of her face, and very nearly fell off the sign again as relief flooded through him. It wasn't Sarah who was hurt. She was kneeling over something grey and furry, and oddly familiar.
'The dog... it's her dog!'
He scolded himself for his display of concern over her. This was the second time today that he'd come running like a lovestruck juvenile at the slightest sign of her distress, and it had all been over a scraggly dog! He really needed to work on ridding himself of this attachment towards her. She was, thankfully, too distracted to notice his presence, otherwise he would have felt even more foolish.
The sound of her soft sobs drifted over, and Jareth felt a pang of guilt. She'd be depressed for weeks if the creature died, and besides, he told himself, he might lose his chance to ever gain his powers back if she became sad and listless. Luckily, the animal was breathing, from what he could tell from his perch. A moment later, it's tail started to thump lightly against the asphalt at the sound of Sarah's voice. The girl's worried sobs turned into ones of relief as she hugged her dog gently. "Oh, Merlin," she was murmuring, "You're going to be okay, I know you are..." Merlin lifted his head to lick her chin reassuringly.
The door of the phone booth slid open as the woman stepped out and headed back over to Sarah. Jareth half-listened to her alternately reassure the girl that help was on the way and babble out apologies for hitting her dog. Now would be a good time to leave, he concluded, before Sarah actually started to pay attention to her surroundings.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Whelps, that's it for this time... more reviews make me post faster. n.-
Disclaimer-type thingie: Sheesh, if I owned any of this stuff, I'd be a lot richer than I am right now and I wouldn't have to settle for writing fanfics. ^_~
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Jareth awoke in a cold sweat from some very disturbing dreams , spurred awake by a frantic sense of urgency. He had to get to Sarah! He shook a few stray twigs from his wings as he dove out of his hiding place, not even bothering to make sure that it was safe. Predators be damned, he had to go to her, now! He barely missed colliding with some branches more than once in his singleminded determination to reach his goal, his mind racing. Had something happened to her?
He alighted on his favourite branch outside her bedroom window, panting hard. He could see her lying in bed, facing the wall opposite him. She rolled over, mumbling something in her sleep.
She was perfectly fine.
Jareth puffed out his feathers and shook himself, genuinely confused. She was fine. Nothing was wrong. There was absolutely no reason for his inexplicable need to come to her. In fact, the feeling had subsided as if it had never existed at all.
He studied her sleeping form as he puzzled over this latest development. True, he had wanted to check up on her during the past week, something he had dismissed as nothing more than a nagging sense of curiosity. Certainly nowhere near as powerful as what had torn him from a sound, if troubled, sleep moments before. He had been perfectly content to wallow in his misery, faced with the certainty that he was doomed to live out the rest of his days in his owl form. He really didn't want to see her ever again; her, the girl he had entrusted with a part of his power, only to have it all ripped away from him with those careless last words. So what had made him come to her now?
Maybe that was it, he realized with a start. There must be some connection still, and he was reacting to it. Jareth felt the first shimmer of hope he'd felt all week. It was a pity he hadn't realized this sooner. Madness hadn't been the first thing to claim him, as he had predicted at the start. Instead, depression had sunk in, a sense of loss and failure so overwhelming that he'd almost decided to put an end to his misery. Jareth shuddered. He would never forget that feeling for as long as he lived. But at least it was over now. He had a chance to reclaim what was his after all.
Still, one thing nagged at him. Why had he reacted like he had? Something had clearly triggered his headlong race to get to Sarah, in the middle of the night, when there was clearly nothing amiss. Something... the question was, what?
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Sarah lingered in bed long after her alarm clock went off, wanting to avoid leaving the comfort of her warm blankets for as long as possible. It was Saturday, and that meant that she had to help with yard work. Not her favourite pastime under normal circumstances, but Karen had decided that the fence needed to be re-painted, and since the old paint was chipped and peeling, it needed to be scraped off. All the more reason for her to stay in bed. Sarah snuggled down deeper under the covers, wondering if her stepmother would buy the excuse that she felt too ill to work.
No such luck. Karen came in a few moments later, demanding that her stepdaughter get out of bed and help. She rolled her eyes, clearly unconvinced as Sarah moaned about how sick she was. Perhaps she had been a bit too dramatic about it, Sarah mused as she was finally nagged into getting up 15 minutes later. Oh well, it really was too nice of a day to stay inside anyway.
Armed with a little metal paint scraper and a walkman, Sarah set to removing bits of paint from the old fence out back. After about three hours of toiling away in the hot sun, she decided it was time for a hard- earned break. Judging from where the sun was hanging in the bright spring sky, it was past lunch anyway. She wiped the sheen of sweat from her forehead as she dropped the scraper onto the grass. She was well aware that she probably looked awful, all sticky with perspiration. There were flakes of paint stuck to her skin and clothing, and probably in her hair, too. Too bad she couldn't just hop in the shower, but her stepmother would insist that she finish the other half of the fence, so she'd really just end up getting hot and dirty all over again. At least she wasn't trying to impress anyone, she thought as she wandered into the kitchen.
Someone had thoughtfully made some lemonade, and Sarah poured herself a glass before heading back out onto the back porch. As much as she'd have liked to stay in the much cooler house, she knew that Karen would pitch a fit if Sarah got paint chips on any of her furniture. She took a seat on the porch steps and absently surveyed her handiwork as she sipped her drink.
A slight rustle in the branches above her caught her attention, and she looked up to see a familiar barn owl perched in the tree by her window, glaring at her balefully. Sarah smoothed down her messy hair self- consciously as the owl turned and moved further down the leafy branch, out of sight. It reminded her so strongly of the being she had defeated only a week before that she had to fight the urge to flee back into the house.
'You're being ridiculous, Sarah,' she told herself. That barn owl had been around for years; there was no reason for her to feel so paranoid around it now. She certainly hadn't heard from the Goblin King since that night, and according to her friends, he was gone from the Underground. They had said 'gone' with such a sense of finality that Sarah had wondered if he was dead, but no, Hoggle assured her, he was just gone. Sarah had felt relieved; after all, she didn't wish him any harm, despite how he had manipulated her. He was an arrogant, childish, temperamental prick of a king, but that didn't mean she wanted him to die. In any case, he was gone, and so she likely wouldn't hear from him again. But on the other hand...
She searched the branches for another glimpse of the owl, but he had either left or was keeping out of sight. The look he had given her... if the Goblin King wasn't in the Underground, then it was possible that he was here...
"Argh! Stop it, Sarah! You're being paranoid again!" Of course it seemed to be giving her a dirty look; owls always looked irritated. She finished off the rest of the lemonade and got up to put the empty glass in the dishwasher. She caught sight of the owl again on the way inside, but it was gone when she came out again. With a shrug, she picked up her paint scraper and went back to her task, eager to finish and take that shower.
It was another hour or so before she noticed that the back gate was open and realized that she hadn't seen Merlin in awhile.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
He'd have to be less conspicuous in the future, Jareth decided as he sat in one of the trees across from the girl's house. After all, if she started to entertain suspicions in that pretty head of hers, he'd never be able to get his powers back. Not that he had any ideas just yet, but he was almost positive that it would be easier with her cooperation, even if it was unwitting.
Still, his reaction that morning puzzled him. The most logical conclusion was that he was still connected to his powers, certainly, yet he had no way of drawing on them. Had he truly been cut off from them, he shouldn't feel any sort of link to them at all, and yet he did, so by all rights he should still be able to use them. It didn't make any sense. If he still felt drawn to them, why couldn't he harness them?
Still, it gave him something to strive for. He just had to figure out why his powers seemed to be blocked from him, and then it was simply a matter of time before he found a way around this little problem. All was not lost. And to think that the night before, he'd been ready to just give up. Him, the Goblin King, admit defeat.
'This isn't over yet, dear Sarah,' he thought as he snatched up a squirming fieldmouse, 'I will have my revenge.' It was, after all, the girl's fault that he's had to suffer so.
He abruptly dropped the mouse he'd been eating as a familiar scream pierced the air. Jareth's stomach lurched as he took to the sky, heading towards the source of the shriek. 'Sarah...' he wanted to cry out as he raced forward. That girl had better be alright, or he'd never forgive whoever was responsible. Because then he'd never get his powers back, he added quickly.
He nearly overshot the sign he'd chosen to land on when he finally spotted her, inertia almost making him do a faceplant in the pavement below. He re- balanced quickly, heart threatening to burst out of his ribcage from his mad flight to get to her in time. She was kneeling in the middle of the street, doubled over with her hair hanging in front of her face. There was a navy blue car with it's front bumper mere inches from her, the vehicle's door left hanging ajar. A middle-aged woman, presumably the driver, was talking frantically into a payphone to his left. Jareth's breath caught in his throat. For one heart-stopping moment, he thought that his Sarah had been hit.
He finally managed to catch a glimpse of her face, and very nearly fell off the sign again as relief flooded through him. It wasn't Sarah who was hurt. She was kneeling over something grey and furry, and oddly familiar.
'The dog... it's her dog!'
He scolded himself for his display of concern over her. This was the second time today that he'd come running like a lovestruck juvenile at the slightest sign of her distress, and it had all been over a scraggly dog! He really needed to work on ridding himself of this attachment towards her. She was, thankfully, too distracted to notice his presence, otherwise he would have felt even more foolish.
The sound of her soft sobs drifted over, and Jareth felt a pang of guilt. She'd be depressed for weeks if the creature died, and besides, he told himself, he might lose his chance to ever gain his powers back if she became sad and listless. Luckily, the animal was breathing, from what he could tell from his perch. A moment later, it's tail started to thump lightly against the asphalt at the sound of Sarah's voice. The girl's worried sobs turned into ones of relief as she hugged her dog gently. "Oh, Merlin," she was murmuring, "You're going to be okay, I know you are..." Merlin lifted his head to lick her chin reassuringly.
The door of the phone booth slid open as the woman stepped out and headed back over to Sarah. Jareth half-listened to her alternately reassure the girl that help was on the way and babble out apologies for hitting her dog. Now would be a good time to leave, he concluded, before Sarah actually started to pay attention to her surroundings.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Whelps, that's it for this time... more reviews make me post faster. n.-