The Kings' house was absolutely gorgeous and disgustingly huge. Practically Victorian, it was dark and elegant and absolutely gorgeous. When asked about it later, Sarah would say that nothing she could think of would do the description justice.
Jareth, however, didn't have that problem, past, present, or future.
"Two words. Hell. Hole," he told Sarah as they walked through the double doors, Ludo trotting behind them. Immediately, they found themselves in a large, open, marble tiled space, with a couple of fancy chandeliers and a staircase that split into two smaller ones on the far end, across from the door. Everything was pristinely clean, shiny, and either in a shade of white, silver, or gold. Basically, it was Mr. Clean's wet dream.
"Now, now, Jareth," called a mild, feminine, vaguely posh voice, "Is that any way to talk of your parents home?"
Sarah tried to pinpoint where the voice was coming from.
"It's the only way to talk of your parents home, mother," said Jareth, "You're looking well."
And then Sarah spotted the speaker. On the top of the staircase stood a woman that was the embodiment of the color white in every stereotypical way possible. Her skin was so white it was practically see-through. Her hair was so white it was practically see-through. Her dress was definitely see-through, probably inappropriately so. In fact, if she was any more ethereally see-through, she'd fade away into the nothingness. She looked like she'd glow under black light. Once you saw her, you couldn't unsee her, like a mental puzzle. Or an uncomfortable shadow. The one thing that stood out was her eyes, piercing and gray. Kind of like Jareth's. The family resemblance was definitely there. A sort of ethereal quality that Sarah would probably notice in Jareth if she hadn't seen him at three in the morning, drunk off his ass, screaming for toilet paper.
"You're looking cute," the woman shot back, gliding down towards them.
"Thank you, mother?"
"I meant the dog. And is this Sarah?"
"Yes," said Sarah, "This is Sarah. Sarah says hello."
"Oh, no," Jareth's mother groaned, "You've been around my son for too long."
"This is your 'Get out while you still can' speech," said Jareth.
"No. This is the 'when is the wedding' speech. Now go. Find an empty room and occupy it. Just make sure it has one bed in it. What are you waiting for? Go! Not everyone's here yet, and I have more people to terrify. Leave the dog. I like him."
xxx
"I know where you get it from now," said Sarah as they unpacked (in a one bed room).
"Get what?" asked Jareth, tossing a pair of pants onto a chair.
"Your asshole tendencies."
"Oh. Yes. Definitely."
"Any deep set issues there?"
"Not at all. We love each other, that's just how we communicate."
"Hmm."
They unpacked in silence for a little while before Sarah spoke up again.
"She looks way too young."
"A mix of Botox, genetics, and black magic."
"Is that what you use, too?"
"Minus the Botox, yes."
"Scary."
"Terrifying."
Author's Note:
I decided to cut this out of the next chapter because I feel like Jareth's mother is a force of her own and as such, deserves her own chapter. Of sorts.
Next up, lunch with the family. Basically, this is going to be a whole lot of snippets.