It was the moment of truth. She was finally going to open the letter. She'd tried four times, but each time Sarah started to open the envelope, Jareth managed to get in trouble or come over and see what she was doing.
The first time, he'd been helping her father clean up after Toby's party and had gotten cut on a plate he'd dropped 'accidentally' on a particuarly rude Goblin.
The second, she'd paused in the garage when he glided over to tell her that Karen wanted to talk to her and coincidentally, when were the two of them heading for her dorm? Sarah had panicked at the thought, and by the time Jareth got her to calm down enough to speak with Karen, Sarah had forgotten about the letter.
(At this point, she'd thought these events odd, but not at all improbable.)
The third tiime, Jareth and Merlin were tangled in Merlin's leash and a fence.
(She'd though that might be unlikely, but considering the nature of her guest (and her dog), still not beyond the range of possibility.)
The last time, she'd been in her room and Jareth had barged in, telling her that her father was subtly trying to push Jareth out the door. In response, Jareth came upstairs to tell Sarah 'goodbye' and that he'd fly through the window as an owl in a few minutes, so please keep the window open.
(At that point, she'd become suspicious.)
So here she was, in her bathroom, shower running full blast, getting ready to finally read the letter.
Jareth was rather nervous about Sarah being off on her own- this attempt to kidnap her had spooked him more than he would ever admit, even to himself.
He'd subsequently come up with the most ridiculous reasons to check on her. He wondered if she realised what he was doing, since she seemed to be getting quite peeved with him.
She was in the shower now, he could hear the water hitting the tiles. He sighed, even this necessity was grating on his nerves.
He knew, as a King, how to think like an enemy, and if Sarah did acquire an enemy because of him, they wouldn't care if she was in the shower or not.
He grumbled again, but remembered how she'd loved flying and absently started making plans to take her Underground again. She might like to see more of Wolfsmoon Wood, he pondered. It's more likely that she'll want to see the massive library at the City, though...
Jareth kept a watchful eye on the magic swirling around the house. Despite what most Undergrounders may think, the Aboveground was ripe with its own magic, even more powerful than the magic Underground, partially because it was generally allowed to grow unhindered. It would not take a very complicated spell to set up a monitor, and he considered the many warding spells he knew. Most were rejected immediately- they would keep out anything with harmful intent, and with Sarah's luck- and temper- it would very likely eject her from the ward every time he annoyed her.
But one... Yes, that would work, he thought with a wicked grin.
Sarah nervously unfolded the letter, and read it quickly. She understood it, intellectually, but the letter didn't make sense the first time around, so she read it again, more slowly. She gasped then, and soon aften she was suppressing laughter. Sarah knew Jareth was listening- he seemed on edge after her 'kidnapping'- and didn't want to give anything away.
When Sarah opened the door between her room and the bathroom, she found her floor covered in chalk and feathers. Jareth was crouched over a circle drawn neatly on the floor, sketching runes throughout it with careful but elegant strokes. The feathers were his, or so she assumed; the majority of them were lightly colored wing feathers and, from the way they were arranged, were as much a part of the circle's design as the chalked-in runes. Sarah opened her mouth to demand what was going on, but Jareth signaled her silent and she realised that he was murmurring something in a musical language she'd never heard before.
A wind suddenly kicked up, and Sarah gasped, worried that it had messed up whatever it was Jareth was doing, but the tone of his voice was pleased and the murmur grew into a crooning whisper. The circle flared, colored light starting on the most westerly point of the circle and speeding around the circle's circumfrence before starting to trace the runes.The light, a deep blue-silver, reflected off the feathers whirling within the circle.
Jareth's voice rose again, but it was only to the level of normal speech. The light gleamed brighter before it dulled- no, that's not the right word, Sarah thought. It was still bright, but it was spreading throughout her room- and even past it, she amended as it flowed through the walls.
Jareth stood gracefully, and turned to face her.
"I assume you have questions," he prompted.
"You know what they say about assumptions," Sarah retorted automatically. She was still in awe of what she'd seen. "What the hell was that?"
"Magic."
"Really. How wonderfully informative your answers are," she drawled. "Okay, wise-ass, what did the magic do?"
"It is a ward." Jareth was going to stop there, but he saw the look she gave him, and he couldn't miss the 'please continue' hand gesture. "It will help keep you safe. Not only will it keep the uninvited out, it will let me know if anyone manages to slip through it- or comes anywhere near it, for that matter." He was fascinated by the expression his comment caused Sarah to make. She'd bit her lip, and something that seemed rather akin to amusement flashed in her eyes before she looked away, seeming thoughful.
"Could I learn to do something like that?" The curiosity and excitement in her voice were back, full force. Jareth had to grin in response.
"That particular spell? No. It is Fae magic, and you aren't, as far as I know, Fae. You could learn to use other types of magic- I've heard human mages are especially skilled with elemental magic." That brought up something he hadn't thought of- something that, had he thought it earlier, would have prevented him from telling her about humans being able to use magic.
'Dear deities. Sarah wielding fireballs...'
"Can any one do it?" Sarah was even more excited now, and Jareth nearly thought the endless stream of questions would be annoying.
Nearly.
Questions were a lovely change from being hit upside the head.
It took nearly two hours for Jareth to answer most of Sarah's questions. There were a couple he didn't answer (To save you from a very long discussion on the theory and metaphysics of magic... You know, most magic users don't even think to ask about this stuff for a couple of decades, Sarah.) He had explained that anyone, once trained, could control the magic of the environment they were in, to different extents, depending upon the person. Some were born with their own magic (Jareth rather suspected Sarah was, but he didn't want to raise her hopes so he didn't say so), also to varying degrees. Magic wasn't always as flashy as the ward Jareth had set earlier, but that, too, depended on the caster (Sarah told him she was suprised the ward didn't use glitter, then, since all his other spells created mini mountains of the stuff. That had sparked an arguement over whether or not the residue was glitter, which Sarah won. It's sparkly, it gets everywhere, and it sticks to everything. It's glitter.).
He had finally waved a hand to cast another spell, and Sarah had found herself in a pair of silk pajamas that she knew weren't hers. If the high-quality fabric hadn't been enough to give it away, all she had to do was look at the color- midnight blue- the pattern- she wasn't sure how the weaver had managed it, but there were little clear crystals and crescent moons stitched onto the pants, and Jareth's crest on the left side of the shirt. The length, too, gave it away. The pants, even with the drawstrings tying them up over her belly-button, pooled around her feet, and the sleeves of the shirt were just as bad.
Sarah had looked up to ask him what had brought this on to find Jareth fast asleep on MegaPoofzilla.She was tired, but couldn't help pulling out the letter to read it, one last time, before she hit the hay, so to speak.
She unfolded it carefully, and re-read it.
To Miss Sarah Williams, the letter started in a ridiculously elegant script.
As I am sure my messanger informed you, I am Jareth's mother, Chame Yasei, The Unseelie Queen. I would prefer it if you would just adress me as Chame, as I hope we will be working together for the next few weeks.
I doubt Jareth has told you this, but his eight hundred and fourty seventh birthday is fast approaching. Once he moved off to his own castle and Kingdom, he always claimed to be too busy to celebrate his birthday. It will take serious cunning and cooperation to trick the King of Goblins- masters at mischief themselves- into attending his own party.
As you are a friend of Jareth's, I felt that it was fair to recruit you for this task. He must trust you a great deal, or he would not have asked to stay at your home while the 'renovations' are going on.
I also feel it is fair to tell you- the flooding of the Bog was entirely orchestrated. It was Jareth's sister who came up with the idea, and Fletcher and Arrow pulled it off spectacularly. We are cleaning out the Labyrinth, the Goblin Village, and Jareth's castle now; they will be completely remodelled by the time we are through.
I sincerely hope you decide to help us with our quest, but I'll understand if you choose not to. If that is the case, I implore you not to alert Jareth, not to rouse his suspicions in any way.
If you decide to aide us, simply call whenever Jareth isn't around and we can start plotting.
Please respond soon,
Her Majesty, Chame Yasei
Oro: I'm sorry, this took forever and it isn't nearly as funny as the other chapters. It is, however, essential to plot developement. I wish I could say the next chapter will be out more quickly, but school and family stuff is slowing me down a lot.
Quill: Stop! This shameless apologizing is making my ego twitch!
Jareth: May I take the blindfold off now?
Sarah: No.
Jareth: Why?
Quill: If you were meant to know the plot, you'd be allowed to read the story. As it is, you aren't. Deal.
Oro: Ignore Quill, please, and review. Remember I don't own Labyrinth! By the by, 'chame' ( pronounced cha- meh) means mischief, and 'yasei' (yah-seh-ee) means wild. More Japanese! Woot!