Chapter 5

Jareth ground his teeth in frustrated silence. He had a splitting headache, night had fallen and he was cold, and this entire situation was spiraling out of his control.

And the goblins were back, of course.

If there was one thing the man who was Goblin King hated, it was not being in control. In his life, there had been nothing he couldn't do, with little effort if any was required, which in itself was rare. If he had randomly decided one day he wanted to stop singing and become a business man, a CEO, he had no doubt he could have, and with relative ease. He had the charm, the looks, the cunning, the intelligence, the patience… whatever he had done, he had been the best at. The top, the pinnacle, the epitome. Emperor of his own destiny.

Watching the goblins scramble around and guzzle ale and play ball and shoot at chickens, and above all else, chatter… it was as if a hundred tiny fairy-sized hammers were hitting his head, with varying intensity depending on the sheer volume of the goblin mass.

He breathed in and out, clenched his fist.

The goblins were a mess, that much was certain. Left to their own devices, he had no doubt that this was all they ever did. They certainly never seemed to tire of it (he resisted the urge to grind his teeth again). They had let the castle- his castle, he thought abruptly, as it was his now- degrade to where it was barely recognizable as a building. It looked like piles of rubble in many places. It was a miracle the throne room was still mostly intact, but he figured they must have had enough brains left to consider that their king would be very angry at them if they had not picked up at least one duty in his absence.

He sighed, and then ignored the squeaking goblins who had gathered around him and asked if His Majesty was feeling well. There were… things on the edge of his consciousness, and they bothered him. He tried to chase down an errant thought and it slipped from him like a seal slipping into the water when he approached. He wished he were a shark instead of stuck on land.

He was jolted out of his thoughts when a wailing goblin threw itself onto his shoes and clutched pathetically at the hem of his pants. Startled, he twitched backward slightly and his eyes got wide with confusion and concern.

"K-k-king!" the little thing spluttered between sobs and gasps for air, looking up at his face with large eyes that were pouring tears. Jareth tried to not look disgusted at the sheer amount of mucus leaking out of the goblins face and onto his shoes.

"H-he stole my thingy!" the goblin continued, pointing an accusing finger at a goblin across the room, who had frozen in horror, his eyes wide and a slingshot hastily hidden behind his back. Other goblins had seen and heard the commotion. The ones who weren't too drunken to speak either went to scold the goblin thief or berate the one at Jareth's feet for disturbing His Majesty with such an insignificant matter.

The little goblin at his feet only whimpered and pouted and trembled at their pulling on his clothes, trying to tear him from Jareth, and yet the tiny thing held onto one of his feet with such force Jareth almost felt insulted.

He was also surprised it could find a grip- he was certain it was covered in drool and runny-nose fluids after that outburst.

"Oh for the love of…" he started, his voice getting louder in order to reach over the clamoring goblin hisses and squeaks. "All of you shut up this very instant! And you, I order you to get off my person before I kick you off, you miserable sop." The goblins obeyed, though the goblin on his foot whimpered a little at letting go. It stood shakily and fidgeted with its small, wet now, hands and hung its head like a child being caught at pulling all of the flowers out of the garden. Out of the corner of his eye, Jareth saw movement. It was the goblin who had the slingshot, trying to slip out of the room unnoticed.

"And you," he growled, and the goblin appeared to pale considerably; it was hard to tell given the condition of their skin; "You will return the… borrowed, property back to its rightful owner and never again take from others, understood?"

There was a long pause while all the goblins stared at hi. Some looked like they were trying very hard to understand what he had just said, as evidenced by their scrunched up faces. But the vast majority simply stared blankly and nodded in an absent manner. He could have sword he saw one goblin in his peripheral vision smile stupidly and begin drooling from the overheating of its brain.

He closed his eyes, rubbed the bridge of his nose, and took a full deep breath.

"Give it back to him and don't do it again." he grumbled, trying very hard to not moan in exasperation- he figured that wouldn't be very kingly after all.

They cheered up after that, pleased with themselves for having understood what He meant, and resumed their chattering and cavorting around. The thief goblin hunched his shoulders and stalked over to the slingshot's owner and reluctantly handed it over. The owner blew a raspberry at him and then threw himself at Jareth's feet again, only this time thanking him profusely for being such a kind, generous king who took such good care of his unworthy subjects. Jareth resisted the urge to kick at the little thing and settled for just shooing him away. After he had scurried off, Jareth put his head in his hands and tried to will his headache away.

One of the smarter, older goblins took notice and came slowly up to the king.

"Your Majesty?…" she ventured quietly. She jumped slightly when he turned his head from his hands just enough to look at her with his one strange icy eye.

"You…" she continued hesitantly, averting her eyes. "You are not feeling well sire?"

He blinked in surprise and lifted his head a little. This was the first time he could recall that one of them had not addressed him with an honorary. She had tacked one onto the end, yes, but there it was. 'You'.

What an odd little goblin, he thought, bypassing the attached thought that they were all odd anyway- they were goblins for pity's sake. He frowned.

"Where am I to sleep?" he asked after a short pause. Her eyes widened and she inwardly cursed herself. They had all taken care to keep the throne room in as much order as possible, but they hadn't even thought about the care of their King after he arrived…

She fidgeted and squirmed and 'hmm'ed until he felt it grate against his weary patience again, and he tapped his foot unconsciously. A few of the goblins nearby scooted further away from him. Even if he didn't know he was doing it, the automatic gesture was something they recognized all too well.

They were about to incur the Goblin King's wrath.

"Fine," he snapped, standing up abruptly. She cringed backwards. "I'll find a place to sleep on my own."

He snarled at the surge of goblin voices that pleaded he stay, stay with them, and they'd even be quiet, if he just wouldn't leave. He ended it by explicitly ordering all of them to not follow him or stop him from leaving the room. They wailed in protest, but obeyed just the same, and he strode out of the room with large angry steps.

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"Ridiculous creatures," he snarled under his breath, stalking over the ruined remains of the castle, kicking at stray stones.

"This place is insane," he added, and a crystal formed in his hand without his consent. In a fury, he threw it, not caring if it contained food or a soft bed or even a woman. He was sick of this.

It cracked against the hard stone and shattered. A short-lived blaze sprang from it and flared brilliantly before it consumed itself and died.

He stared at the spot where it had been, the after-image burned into both retinas. After a minute, he hissed in pure frustration and collapsed onto the ground in a highly undignified manner, clutching at his unruly blonde hair. He felt like a petulant child in the grocery who wanted a candy bar but their parent refused, so they let their little legs go limp and they sulk and cry and beat their fists on the floor. He ground his teeth together again and squeezed his eyes shut.

This was all ridiculous. Him, the ruler of a kingdom of wild creatures who behaved like toddlers without discipline? With a start, he wondered if he was expected to train them or keep them reigned in. Was he supposed to parent that chattering filthy mass? It was stupid. Not hours before he had been no one. He had been That Man, the one whose voice did so many things to different people. It gained the attention of even the most bratty screaming child, fascinated babies, terrified mothers, and depending on what he wanted at the moment, either crooned people into a trance-like state or into a frenzied wild mob. He had been special, he knew that much. He was arrogant enough to notice it and take advantage of it.

But now, he was expected to be… someone important. A ruler. A king. Not a rogue, or a loner, or that dark handsome mysterious bad boy that drew eyes towards him like magnets. He was used to being the odd one.

He started laughing when he realized he didn't know the first thing about being in charge of anything but himself. He kept laughing when thought of what a screw up whoever had decided to put him in charge of anything bigger than a body and an apartment had made.

He kept hearing himself say he didn't belong here. He wasn't supposed to be doing this. It was a mistake.

But then he shuddered and had the thought that is anything tried to drag him away from this absolutely insane hellhole, he would kill them before they got him anywhere near the Aboveground.

He stalled momentarily ("Aboveground?") but then his thoughts resumed chasing themselves in circles and he felt like he was going insane. This was too much. This was way too much for him to adjust to. Not yet.

He distantly felt a night wind blow past him and stroke his skin, but he was too wrapped up in the tornado in his mind to pay it any attention.

He tried to focus, feeling giddy and exhausted simultaneously, and forced himself to concentrate.

"I need to sleep. I need something- anything- comfortable and safe to sleep on. A mattress. Just give me anything, magic… I can't think straight, the stupid goblins haven't fed me, I just need somewhere to rest, please…"

The crystal formed in his slightly trembling hand and he tossed it gently. He felt as if he were playing roulette. He never knew what to expect from this power. He had tried earlier, playing with them, but when he tried to entertain the goblins by appearing a chicken, it turned out to be cooked and filled with stuffing. It had lasted maybe 3 seconds after the ravenous little things descended onto it. It felt like being an awkward teenager again, stumbling over his own limbs.

A proper bed, with sheets and blankets appeared, and he nearly wept with relief. Finally, finally. He crawled carefully into it and peered underneath the sheets to encounter a small plate of biscuits. He very nearly lost control and wept openly, but as it was his eyes only misted over as he ate the plateful and laid his head on the pillow. Normally he wouldn't eat in bed- he hated the crumbs, and it invited bugs. But at this point he really didn't care at all. Utterly exhausted, he fell asleep, part of a biscuit still hanging out of his mouth as his eyes closed and he slipped into slumber.

He slipped into a dream.

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"Well well, " someone said. He turned sluggishly, but there was only darkness around him and the owner of the voice couldn't be found.

"What's going on?" he demanded, and the voice laughed loudly and confidently.

"What a poor little mortal, to have never dreamt before." it replied smoothly. With sudden dismay, he realized it was his own voice. But he had never sounded like that. This voice was loud and it knew everything about itself. His laughter had never been like that. What was going on? He could feel the voice grin, and he shuddered when he considered that it probably possessed pointed sharp teeth.

"Oh, come come Goblin King!" it admonished playfully. "Are you really so frightened?"

He took grave offense to this and bristled.

"Show yourself then!" he demanded, and thought he sounded imperious indeed, even though his own voice sounded flat and dead in this place. A figure became clear, separated from the darkness like yolk from egg white through a sieve. Jareth was frozen in place. The other figure looked vaguely like him. The hair was styled in a different way, but still the same wild blonde. And the eyes were unmistakable. The most remarkable difference was the feeling. This figure that looked nearly identical to him carried this aura of… royalty, if he had to define it.

But he desperately wanted to back away from this approaching twin. There was something in the eyes. The mismatched eyes that marked him. They were wrong. Reversed. It was like a mirror that acted independently. And those eyes were raking over him, something visibly sparking in them.

They wanted to consume him.

"I question whether or not you're fit to be king, you know…" the darker twin drawled casually. "You're far too hesitant. You have too many scars." And here, the dark twin frowned as if sincerely troubled. "And if that wasn't enough," he continued. "You're entirely too concerned with mortal plights. I don't think you could take a babe if it were handed to you."

"Just what the hell are you talking about!" Jareth finally snapped, too disoriented and alarmed to stay calm.

This was all wrong.

The other one smirked winningly and Jareth dazedly thought that he couldn't understand why women loved that same self-assured smirk on his own face. It made him feel as if he were about to become a cat's plaything until it got bored with his suffering and killed and ate him. The feeling increased ten-fold when the other one leaned in close, close enough to nearly touch noses, and stared into his eyes.

"You. I don't think I like you. You're despairingly weak, you know. And not all that clever…" and he leaned back, looking contemplative. "No, no… and even though you want desperately to be in your rightful place, you continue to deny it. You let the realm remain in chaos." He looked condemningly down his nose at Jareth, though they were the same height.

"Why, you're nothing but a frightened little mortal boy thrust onto an immortal throne, aren't you? How disappointing."

The dream faded as sunlight stabbed through his eyelids. He sat up, covered in sheen of sweat and muscles tense.

There was something horribly wrong here.

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What a time for an update… at the end, as suggested. At any rate, this chapter was difficult, mainly because I don't know what I'm doing. I love flying blind.

I apologize for the delay in the chapter, as well as how abysmally short it is. I'm horrible. But it's also 6:30 a.m. and I have yet to sleep. Mmm. Watch me not care and go and get breakfast. Falling asleep during the day is the best.

I've forgotten to mention this, but if one wants to be kept up to date on my chapter progress, my LJ account is my homepage in my profile; I try and keep that updated with my thoughts about the fic and my progress on it. Unfortunately, it also contains might-be spoilers. My blogs are always a sort of exercise in stream of consciousness writing. Not entirely sure why. I just happen to like it. It's like meditation I guess.

Anyway, I want to thank all my wonderful reviewers, as well as the people watching this story! I love the attention. Makes me feel special inside.

Thoughts on this chapter… ooh. It's difficult. One of my favorite themes for writing is duality. I dealt with it in an earlier fic where I paired a "Saint and Sinner" type of theme and kept it going with religious motifs and similes…I was rather proud of it. At any rate, Jareth is chock full of duality. His eyes, for one. And then his generosity and cruelty. But they pair, don't they? Even his cruelty is generous, and even his damaged eye is still an eye. It matches and meshes! Beautiful.

Miracle Goodnight… I love the music video for this, but unfortunately I've only been able to find it on my DVD. It's nowhere on the internet! Sad. The video has some duality in it as well- mirrors, and one of his costumes. Black and white, and mirrors! It really is nice.

I also chose that title because of his question about where he sleeps. Miracle Goodnight! It's ridiculously lame, but hey. I take what I can get.

Did I mention I love duality concepts?