There was another stir. Jareth perked up as he felt it. It ghosted its way through the Labyrinth, blowing life into the ancient walls and invigorating its inhabitants. It breezed through the Goblin City as well, exciting its citizens with the promise of a runner. Oh, how the goblins loved a strong stir. It energized their veins as it buzzed through their bodies. They began to mutter and gossip rapidly, anticipating the excitement of an escapade to the Above.
The stir had much the same effect on the goblins as it had on their ruler. It sent goosebumps racing across his skin and magic coursing through his blood. His armor momentarily materialized over the casual wear he wore while lounging on his throne. He grinned, tapping his riding crop against his leg as he reached out with his powers, detecting the size and strength of the stir. He inhaled slowly, closing his eyes and feeling for it. This stir was a large one.
A stir meant a child would soon be wished away. Most of the time it was concentrated on a single person or household. Only rarely was it larger. Many small bursts came sporadically around Aboveground holidays or when a rowdy group of kids decided to play nefarious pranks on their neighbors.
This stir, however, was the largest he could ever recall feeling. The King of the Goblins could easily imagine it was caused by a larger group (most likely consisting of delinquent teenagers) having a ball terrorizing the streets.
He was then, understandably, quite surprised and extremely puzzled by what he saw when he decided to journey Aboveground to investigate the cause of the stir.
It was only a single girl. A very small one, too. She looked to have only reached about four or five years of her mortal life. It was difficult to tell with humans so young. He cast his eyes and his power around her, unable to believe at first that it was this little child causing such a large disruption.
In his avian form, he followed her for hours. She roamed about her grassy domain in the same manner of a wild animal; free and unrestricted. He watched her play on grassy hills, climb trees, and run alongside her mop of a dog until evening began to descend over her world. She did have a house to return to when evening came, but she was alone until long after she had retired to her bed. Other than her being alone for a disturbing amount of time, there was nothing about her that appeared to be unusual.
Most of the time, he would have stopped his investigation there. The King would have gone back to his castle and patiently waited for someone to wish the child away. However, this time he found himself fascinated. Fixated. He couldn't understand how such a little slip of a mortal girl could be the cause of a stir so large. He became determined to find the reason and so he decided to stay until an explanation presented itself.
Most often, the stir originated from a parent or an older sibling. Someone close to the soon-to-be-wished-away-child. Usually it was the person directly responsible for that child, who resented their responsibility and wished to be rid of it. Such was the fickle nature of humans. They wished for a child, strained their bodies to bear and birth it, and then resented it for the hardships it placed upon their lives. He wondered how their minds so easily disregarded the facts of parenthood until it was thrust upon them.
This little girl had no brothers or sisters. Her parents did not hate or resent her, but seemed to barely care for her at all. She spoke with them only in the mornings, sat hunched over a bowl of brightly colored, small circle-shaped biscuits soaked in cold milk as her parents made every effort to ignore each other. Her father left first, patting his daughter on the head and delivering a relatively friendly if not distancing squeeze to his wife's elbow. She followed not soon after, placing a wet, lipstick-stained kiss on her daughter's chubby cheek before departing.
He watched as her feet dangled from her chair. She finished up her breakfast alone and left her dish where it was. She ran over to the door, calling for her dog before bounding outside. She got about halfway down the street, he observed with no lack of amusement, before gasping and doubling back to the house in order to bolt the lock.
She spent most of her days at a large and expansively green park with her pet. She didn't seem to have any close friends, but she didn't have any enemies either. In fact, she elected to spend most of her time alone. Only rarely would she venture over to the playground and join other children in games of tag or hide-and-seek. But even then, when the other kids were called home she stayed, playing alone until twilight.
Casting his eyes away from the child, the Goblin King began searching around the neighborhood. He listened intently to neighbor's conversations about the girl (quickly learning her name was Sarah) and tirelessly, fruitlessly tried to find someone who held even an inkling of animosity for the child.
In the end, after combing through every household, he could not find a single person who despised Sarah's existence.
Frustrated after his tiring and wholly unsuccessful search, he turned his gaze back to her. Perhaps he could locate the issue if he observed her more closely.
In time, after having truly focused his attention on her, Jareth found she was exceptionally clever and beautiful for a human child. Her tangled hair was a lovely shade of chocolaty brown and she had a cherubic face that always wore a lively expression. It was her eyes that drew him to her most; they were a deep forest green and endlessly filled with wonder.
He learned she was an adventurous child. Only when she had explored the whole expanse of her favorite park did she turn to her role-play. He watched her for hours on end, constantly finding himself wondering how it was this young child harbored such a vast imagination. She was animated and joyful as she acted out her made-up scenes of saving animals stuck in trees or running through the green fields in chase of some wicked beast; a beast which, when captured, she always tamed instead of slaying.
She was the happiest, gentlest, and most carefree child he had ever laid his eyes on.
So who in this world would want her gone? Even after days and days of observation he could find no answer. He watched her tirelessly, retiring back to his kingdom once evening fell over her lands so that he might have a chance of governing his own. He was woefully behind on fulfilling his duties, and the growing mountain of paperwork on his desk was a testament to that fact.
One night, long after she had returned to her home and crawled into bed to sleep, he stayed behind. He had decided that this would be the last time he would watch her. He thought perhaps something had gone wrong with his magic; the stir had been a fluke. It had never happened before, but what other explanation was there? He had watched this girl for nearly a fortnight and still was without even the faintest idea as to why his magic was telling him she was the source of the stir.
Perched high on a tree in his owl form in her front yard, Jareth watched Sarah's father return home. He looked weary; his shoulders slumped and his shoes dragged on the ground as he walked. Dropping his briefcase and suit jacket by the door, he tugged his necktie off and padded over to a worn leather recliner. He collapsed into it, sighing wearily.
The mother returned home about an hour later in a completely different state. Jareth watched as she climbed out of a yellow car that had an illumined sign on the top of it reading "Taxi". She wobbled up the driveway drunkenly, holding her heeled shoes in one hand, and threw the front door open with a whooping laugh.
The King watched Sarah's father rise slowly from his chair. He stormed over to his wife with his anger accentuated in the red blotches on his face. His wife's pretty smile immediately dimmed. Only a few moments later, shouts and angry words were being exchanged between the pair. Listening in, Jareth did not find any of their arguments to be focused around their daughter. They argued only about the lateness of her arrival home, his lack of promotions, her drunkenness…on and on it went.
With an inward sigh, Jareth spread his wings and flew to the tree directly outside Sarah's bedroom window. He would peer in at the sleeping girl for just a moment, wish her luck in her short mortal life, and then leave her for good. He could not spend any more time than he already had watching her. His kingdom needed him to return to his duties posthaste.
He gazed into her window and was instantly shocked by the sight before him. The brave little girl who dreamt of slaying dragons, winning fearsome battles, and taming giant beasts was lying in her bed, curled on her side in a fetal position. Crystal-like tears gently dripped down her rounded cheeks, and her little chest heaved and shook with the force of her silent sobs.
That was when he felt it: a stir so strong it shook his very core and nearly caused him to fall from his perch. He realized it was no neighbor or family member who wished for her to disappear. It was her; Sarah herself. She wished, with every fiber of her being, to be spirited away from her home. To be taken to a place of magic and dreams. It was her who felt unwanted, her who wished to go away.
A strange, crushing pressure inside Jareth's chest bubbled up and choked his throat. There was not a doubt in his mind in that moment. He knew there was absolutely no way he could ever leave this child alone.
He would be the one to protect her.