Still enraged at the audacity of his mother, Jareth conjured a crystal without thinking. One second he was glaring at the spot where his mother stood just seconds before, the next he was looking down at the crystal in his hand. He clenched his jaw in anger as his mind caught up with his subconscious impulse. He shouldn't care, he declared just moments ago that he didn't. Yet, when the crystal began to drop from his grip, his fingers tightened around the sphere. He released a frustrated sigh and resignedly raised the crystal in front of his face. Finally, desire won out over pride. His wrist twisted and suddenly the image of a dark-haired girl filled the crystal's emptiness. He felt his heart skip at the sight of her, staring forlornly into her vanity mirror, her childish belongings lining the walls behind her. Could it be? he thought. Could she be regretting her decision? An irrational hope sprung up within him until her lips moved. His eyes narrowed with suspicion. He rotated his wrist again and the scene shifted so that the mirror was visible. Jareth's entire body went stiff with shocked fury as he saw, not Sarah's reflection, but that traitorous dwarf. His ugly face was lit up with hope as he said something to Sarah. Jareth moved his hand again and the sound of Sarah's sweet voice floated from the crystal.
"Every now and then in my life, for no reason at all, I need you."
"Why didn't ya say so?"
Jareth felt the magic of his kingdom shift and he saw his citizens inside Sarah's room, Aboveground. His jaw dropped open and he stared at the scene unfolding before him. Dancing, singing, hugging, the citizens of his kingdom were rejoicing with the girl who'd just humiliated and rejected their king. Anger and loathing washed through him and with a growl, he hurled the crystal at the wall where it shattered against the stone. "Traitors!" he roared, storming toward the window that overlooked his Labyrinth. He sucked in a huge lungful of air and breathed out slowly, letting all of his magic unfurl. He sent it skyward, searching for those ingrates who'd shown him nothing but disrespect. He found them with her, his magic brushing over her body but unable to get a hold. She wasn't under his control like the others were. He winced as he realized the depth of her defenses, but she wasn't what he was after anymore. Any hold he had on her had been lost; he'd allowed her a loophole in the game and she'd taken it. Even through his anger and hate, he could acknowledge that his stroke of compassion, or maybe it was overconfidence, cost him a certain victory. Cost him Sarah. With a frustrated sigh, he took hold of each of his citizens, one by one, and pulled. He ripped each of them from her world and let them all feel his fury. Connected to him as they were, their fear washed over him like rain and he relished it. After all, they needed to be reminded who was king.
""""
Sarah and her friends were still dancing, enjoying themselves and their new freedom, when one of the fieries let out a shriek. This isn't completely abnormal for a fiery, so Sarah didn't think much of it at first. Then two goblins whined, holding their grubby hands to their chests. The obvious terror on their faces made Sarah's heart go cold. While Sarah stood rooted to the floor, the fiery and the two goblins were hoisted into the air. Invisible strings seemed to be holding them suspended above the rest of the goblins and after a second or two they were dragged backward towards the vanity, their limbs flailing wildly. Her mirror no longer reflected Sarah's room and the party inside it. It now showed a view of the Labyrinth, the red light of the Underground flooding the tabletop. The goblins all stopped dancing and started to run around the room, trying desperately to escape the magic they knew was their king's doing. Sarah's eyes widened as, one by one, the goblins were lifted into the air and taken quickly through the vanity. As more goblins were taken, the faster the process became. It was only a few seconds before only Hoggle, Didymus, and Ludo were left with Sarah, their eyes wide and darting in fear.
Sarah finally shook off the surprise and grasped Hoggle's arm firmly. She tried to reach for the others, but they were taken before she could even touch them. A startled, "My lady!" floated back to her from the vanity. Sarah's grip on Hoggle tightened as they locked eyes. Sarah's eyes filled with tears as Hoggle started to rise into the air.
"No, no, no!" Sarah whined as she added her other hand to her grip. She might as well have been trying to hold onto smoke for all the good she did. Hoggle began to drift toward the mirror anyway, dragging her along with him.
"You have to let go, Sarah!" he shouted. "Else you'll be taken back Underground!"
"No, Hoggle, I won't let him take you like this!"
Tears started to leak from the corners of his eyes as he pleaded, "You have to. I'll be alright, I promise." As his feet sunk into the mirror, Hoggle pried Sarah's fingers off of his arm. When she lost her grip, Sarah fell backward to land hard on her bottom. Hoggle disappeared into the mirror and the reddish tinge disappeared, the sight of the Underground changed back to a reflection of her bedroom once again.
Sarah sat there stunned for a moment. "He can't," she whispered. She pushed herself up from the floor and clutched either side of the mirror, staring at her own reflection. "You can't!" she shouted at herself. "I won! You can't just do what you want anymore. I beat you, you monster!" After a few seconds of silence, Sarah rested her forehead against the cold glass. "Hoggle?" she called softly. He didn't come; she hadn't expected him to. Jareth had him now. "Jareth, you'd better not hurt them. Please, please, don't hurt them."
""""
Instead of bringing the traitors to his throne room, Jareth sent them directly to the Bog of Eternal Stench without a second thought. The instant they arrived in the Underground, they were dropped unceremoniously into the putrid swamp. The Bog has been described as a fate worse than death, and that was exactly the sort of thing that appealed to Jareth in his murderously black mood. He watched through a crystal as they each dropped into the muck, smiling a dark smile when he saw the dwarf scream amongst the others.
"Jareth," Sarah's voice called to him through her mirror, sending a fresh wave of anger through him. He twisted his wrist to see her in her room, her face pressed against the glass of the mirror. She continued, "…you'd better not hurt them. Please, please, don't hurt them."
His mouth twisted in a sneer. "Too late, you precious thing. You wanted to be free of me, and that's what you shall be. Free of me and every one of my citizens," he taunted into the crystal. She couldn't hear him and he didn't mean her to. She deserved no reassurance, after all. She didn't even deserve certainty. Sarah started to cry in earnest now, her sobs wracking her body. Jareth quickly dissolved the crystal before her tears could have any effect. He felt a stirring of something very like remorse and immediately used his anger to slam the feeling away. He leaned against the wall next to the open window and crossed his arms. The screams of agony from the Bog reached his ears and he firmly yanked the shutter closed against them. He stood for a moment, his hand on the shutter, and listened. The sounds of those condemned to the terrible stench were muffled enough so that they could be the normal shrieks of the fieries in the forest. Jareth turned and walked toward his quarters, hardening his heart along the way. When he finally stood on the balcony of his bedroom, he heard the moans from the Bog again and smiled.
"I wonder, sweet Sarah," he murmured. "If you would have refused me if you'd known the suffering you'd cause." He chuckled darkly. "Goblin Queen, indeed," he said with a careless wave of his hand. He turned on his heel and sauntered into the bedroom, thinking he might have a bath before bed.
""""
"Wake up, you cheat!" Niamh's voice cut through the darkness of the cell like a knife. The Magicker was startled out of a deep sleep and she lifted her head off the filthy straw mat with a groan and glared up at Niamh. A sharp crick in her neck forced her to drop her gaze again. The youth the Magicker had absorbed from finding the potential Goblin Queen had long since faded.
The Magicker's hand rubbed her neck as she said, "Me, cheat? How d'you figure, Majesty?" She made her way to her feet with many groans and cracking joints. Niamh waited until the Magicker had shaken the sleep out of her limbs and met her livid stare before responding.
"Yes, cheat. I've just come from seeing my son and the girl refused him! He did everything he was meant to, she ran the Labyrinth, and still he is without a queen! I've half a mind to go straight to the High King and tell him how you lied to his queen."
The old woman cackled at Niamh who lifted a sleeve up to her face to ward off the decrepit Magicker's smell. "Now, Majesty, we both know yeh won't go to the King. 'Sides, I promised yeh I would find someone who would be a worthy queen, I never said she would be the queen fer certain. That was up to that son of yers, but it seems he dropped the crystal on that one." She laughed again.
Niamh's fury and fear ran through her body and her hands clenched into shaking fists. She glared daggers into the old woman's laughing face for a moment before her ire sought a violent outlet. Niamh's hand shot out too fast for the Magicker's eyes to catch and closed around her throat before she could raise a hand in defense. The force of Niamh's grip drove the magicker back against the wall where she hit the stone with a thud and a few cracks as her back, twisted with age, protested against the position. Her head made an audible smack against the wall and Niamh leaned in close to hiss, "You think this funny? My son's kingdom and his life are in danger and you laugh?"
The Magicker's eyes rolled around the room as she fought to avoid Niamh's gaze. When she finally turned her pleading stare to the queen, she saw her own terror reflected back at her. The queen was scared beyond reason. The Magicker's breaths came in strangled gasps as she desperately tried to inhale. "Please," she choked. Niamh's hand opened a fraction. The Magicker coughed desperately, "Perhaps if I could work a spell…"
Niamh bared her teeth and ripped the old woman away from the wall only to slam her head back against it. "No more magic, witch! You had your chance and you failed. I thought I was perfectly clear about the dangers surrounding this little plan of ours and the importance of success. Any spells that could have saved your life should have been done when I first came to you." With that, Niamh closed her hand with more force on the woman's neck. She saw the flash of horror in the Magicker's eyes before her throat was completely crushed. Niamh let the body fall back against the dirty straw with a thump. She stood, her chest heaving, and thought for a moment before arranging the room so it looked like the woman might have tripped and fallen onto her shelf, crushing her neck. Satisfied with her work, Niamh swept out of the room before any guards could come, her hands still shaking.