"I don't give a damn what you think!" The golden chalice flew across the room, its contents spilling on the floor as the glass shattered upon impact.
The Goblin King was not amused.
A citizen of the below city, a respected goblin called Gogle, stared up at his regent, cowering in fear.
"But sir-" The man before him started to his feet, almost breaking one of the bones that held his throne together.
"Get out," He growled, glaring at Gogle as the goblin tried to rush away, leaving spatters of mud wherever he stepped. When Gogle had left the room the man slumped back into the throne, letting out an exasperated sigh as he put his head in his hands.
The clucking of a nearby chicken alerted the man to another presence and he pushed his head up to see a visitor, human this time.
It was the Duchess Irene who rudely interrupted him, and this was not the first time she had done so. The man glowered at her, unenthused by her arrival.
"Your Grace," he greeted her, his voice steadier than before, "What brings you here?" The Duchess smiled, something that had once been attractive, made her now look like a banished witch, trying to regain the favour of her peers. But no matter how old Irene was, she kept the charm that had made her so popular.
"Why Jareth, there is no need for such formality between us. I simply wish to discuss the subject of your heir with you." Jareth felt his blood run cold and he ran a hand through his uncombed blond hair several times before answering.
It was a touchy subject, that of Jareth's heir, as he still had not found a queen, or a boy he could adopt to rule. The boy would have to be noble, of course, and at least resemble a human. But with the clamour and distrust of the Underworld Court, it was likely he would insult by choosing someone to rule when he died. Many boys had been brought to court, and paraded in front of him, yet Jareth felt those shown would be nothing more than a puppet for their bloodthirsty, power-hungry parents.
Irene flashed a smile again, waiting for a response before continuing.
"Jareth, I would like to know why you haven't considered my Toby to be the one who follows you onto the throne. He is much more suitable than the others you've seen." Jareth's mind was racing as he watched the Duchess carefully. She was crafty - almost as crafty as him - and he knew very little would stop her from putting her son on the throne. The only thing that would stop anyone from trying to put their son on the throne would be for him to marry, and he hated the idea of that.
Right on cue, Gogle burst back through the doors, stumbling a bit, as though he'd just been pushed. Seeing the angry glares of both the Goblin King and the Duchess of Batons focused on him like lasers, he immediately fell into a pre-emptive grovel. "Please, sire," he whimpered, before Jareth had a chance to speak, "the Lady Mizumi demands an audience. Um. And she won't take no for an answer."
"Well, she'll have to this time!" Jareth shouted at the hapless goblin at his feet.
"So you're choosing Toby," the duchess stated authoritatively, a smug smile creeping across her weathered face. Miserable old baggage, Jareth thought irritably.
"No, I am not."
"In that case, I suggest you at least pass the time of day with the Queen of Cups. She is, after all, the most eligible young lady in the Underground, sire. And it would be most advantageous to tie the Goblin Kingdom to that of Moraine, politically, you understand -" Gogle's voice sputtered and died at a gesture from the Goblin King. Irene opened her mouth to take advantage of the sudden silence, but she too was cut off by a wave from her sovereign.
"Eligible, hmm?"
Jareth collapsed back into the throne, a small smile playing across his lips. He knew that his visitors would shortly become uncomfortable if ignored, and so set about the difficult business of ignoring them. A germ of an idea had taken root in his hard-pressed brain, and he was eager to let it grow.
After what seemed like an eternity to his impatient audience, he said, "Mizumi will have her chance. You all will. Gogle, I want you to organize a ball for this Midsummer's Eve."
"But-but that's only three days away!" the goblin stammered.
"This Midsummer's Eve," Jareth repeated. "And everyone who wants a go at me is invited to attend. Might as well get all of this 'heir' business over with in one night."
"I can hardly have a party of such magnitude ready in only three -"
"See to it that you do. Because every unattached young lady and every doting mother in the Underground will be there, and if there's nothing for them to do but line up and bother me, I will personally dip you headfirst into the -"
'Bog of Eternal Stench, yes, I know, your majesty." Gogle sighed. "You do threaten me with it every other day."
"Really?" Jareth considered, for one brief moment, that perhaps it was time for a new threat, but then dismissed the idea until later. It could wait. "Well, I'll do something terrible to you, at any rate. At the end of this blighted ball, I will -" And here the arrogant and inscrutable Goblin King did something neither of his guests had ever seen him do: he hesitated. "I will choose a bride," he finished, the word "bride" sounding almost like a curse.
Irene's jaw dropped, her eyes blazing fury.
More to pacify her than out of any real hope, Jareth continued. "And if, at the end of the ball, I haven't made a choice, then I'll consider adoption."
"You'll choose my Toby as the heir?" The duchess' eyes still blazed, but now the fires were fuelled with greed, rather than anger.
"If I don't choose a queen instead."
"Your majesty, I really must protest. I simply can't organize a party like this in only three days. Where will we hold it? Who will be the musicians? What will the guests eat? Where will I find decorations?" Gogle clutched his head.
"That's your problem, Gogle. Now, get out of my sight before I find another cup to throw at you." Gogle bowed respectfully and began to walk out of the room, but Jareth called him back. "Oh, and Gogle?"
The goblin paused midstep and turned to face his regent. "Yes, sire?"
"Leave those damn Fireys off the guest list, will you?"
"Certainly, sire." Gogle scurried off again, obviously relieved to be out of the Goblin King's presence when he was in such a mercurial mood.
"I'll be there," Irene promised. "You know I can't resist a challenge."
"Nor can I." Jareth waved a hand. "You are dismissed."
As the Duchess of Batons left, Jareth allowed himself to relax for the first time all day, and even to congratulate himself for his quick thinking. He'd just bought himself three days blessedly free of heir-related interference. "I don't know why I didn't think of that sooner," he muttered, leaning back in his throne. More time to devote to music, magic, and whatever else he felt like doing – until, of course, that fool Gogle fouled up the party plans and came looking for help. Jareth sighed. It wasn't easy being the king of an unruly horde of goblins. He seriously wondered why so many people seemed to want the job.
