DISCLAIMER: I don't own Labyrinth, Jareth or Sarah. I just borrow them occasionally for my own daydreams. I would however gladly snog Jareth within an inch of his immortal life if given half a chance. *wistful sight*
'Rosalinda' is not my creation, I am merely borrowing her from Lixxle who writes the most wonderful Labyrinth fanfic and I only wish I could write half as well. :)
WARNING: References to Jareth's 'assets' and some minor 'fowl' language (pun intended). No goblins were hurt in the writing of this chapter, although several chickens were threatened with becoming chicken and dumplings if they didn't behave.
Author's Note: Please read and review….reviews will keep me writing and I have lots of silly stories I would like to tell about what happens between Sarah and Jareth prior to the their Rocky Horror evening. :)
When Sarah told the goblins that she liked chicken, what she said and what they heard were apparently quite different. She had heard 'chicken for lunch' and apparently her companions meant 'chicken as entertainment'. And that was why, within a short amount of time, she found herself perched on a rickety stool in the Black Pullet Pub, eating a savory meat pie smothered in gravy, and watching the annual Chicken Pull competition.
Sarah had to laugh as she watched Bob bouncing up and down cheering for his favorite chicken, a fat black one with glistening amber eyes by the name of Rosalinda, who was the 5-time Chicken-Toss Champion. Rosalinda stalked around the ring in an aggressive fashion, pecking fiercely at any goblin arm, foot or face that came within reach, and seemed to be much loved by the goblins in attendance, except for several who periodically wailed, "NOT ROSALINDA!"
As near as Sarah could tell from watching the chaotic event, each round started with the goblin organizers tackling another chicken from the pen, an act that seemed to be getting as much betting action as the actual competition itself. Once they caught the chicken, they forced it into a crude leather harness that was attached to a small wooden sledge on metal runners. After it was harnessed, the chicken was held behind a line of greasy sausages that was pinned to the floor, apparently acting as the starting line. Then, a goblin would stand on the sledge, the chicken would be released and the crowd would scream and shriek as the chicken started to move – or attempted to.
From what she could tell, the goal was for the chicken to pull the goblin from the line of sausages over a line on the other side of the floor that looked to be an abandoned string of Aboveground Christmas tree lights; however she was unsure of this, as none of the chickens had managed to pull the goblin anywhere near that line. Most of the time the chicken either laid an egg, pulled the goblin on the sledge in a circle, or in the case of Rosalinda, the 5-time Chicken-Toss Champion, attacked the goblin on the sledge viciously - although, that too seemed to please the goblins in the crowd immensely.
Taking a deep drink of cider to wash down a particularly dry bit of pastry, Sarah shouted over the din to her goblin companions, "So, who is winning?" she asked, gesturing at the chicken pen in the corner, from which the goblins organizing the event would pick for each round.
"The black one there is Phil. He's the 7-time Chicken-Pull Champion," yelled Squint from his seat on Sarah's knee.
There was so much wrong with his answer that Sarah didn't even know where to begin. In the first place, all of the chickens in the contest were black.
"But I thought this was a chicken pull. Phil is not a proper name for a chicken since chickens are female," she replied, frowning in her confusion as she nibbled more of the pie, crumbs of pastry sticking to her lips and chin.
- Yeah…and goblin naming practices are logical? – snarked her inner-self. – Because afterall, Bob is short for Kate makes soooo much sense.
'Okay. True. Very little about goblins is logical. Remind me to ask Jareth about that one later,' she thought with a chuckle.
Cackling merrily, Squint shook his head, clambering onto her shoulder to explain.
"Phil used to be Philamena. As Philamena she won lots. Some goblins complained she was using performance enhancing feed," explained Squint slowly, since Sarah obviously wasn't knowledgeable about the sporting politics of chickens. "But it's all good now, cuz they found out Phil was a boy."
"But if they know Phil is a boy, um…er… a rooster, why do they still let him compete in a contest for girls…um…chickens?" continued Sarah, trying to understand what was going on, despite the fact that her rational self had long ago given up trying and was currently sitting in a corner of her brain with her libido discussing the tightness of Jareth's pants.
"Well of course they lets him compete! He's the champion!" laughed Bob as if it was the most logical and obvious answer in the world.
Shrugging, Sarah gave up trying to understand the sporting politics and logic of chicken athletics, and began to enjoy the event for what it was – complete and utter chicken fueled chaos.
And that was how Jareth found her some half-hour later.
He materialized at the entrance of the pub to find Sarah teetering precariously on a three-legged barstool, waving a half-eaten meat pie in one hand and a mug of what he hoped was not goblin ale in the other, her face flushed as she shouted at the chickens along with the rest of the crowd. Jareth honestly didn't know whether to be furious at the goblins for bringing her to the pub in the first place, shocked to find her so at home in a goblin pub, or amused by the fact that she seemed to be having an absolutely fabulous time.
"C'mon Phil!" Sarah yelled, her emerald eyes bright with excitement.
Squint hung onto the shoulder strap of Sarah's corset for dear life, as thanks to her enthusiastic waving and shouting, the stool was threatening to fall over and dump them both on the floor. As Phil clucked his way across the finish line, narrowly beating Rosalinda's valiant effort of viciously pecking three goblins, Sarah bounced so enthusiastically, that the short leg of the stool twisted and she started to tumble.
Bracing for the inevitable impact, Sarah's eyes clamped shut, as if that would in some way keep her from falling. It took her a moment to realize that somehow, she was still upright, the stool was still firmly under her bottom and she had not dropped either the pie or the mug. Cracking an eye, she peered at the floor, giggling nervously when she saw a pair of highly polished black leather boots that could only belong to one person.
"Um…Hi Your Majesty?" she squeaked, peeking at him through a veil of chocolate colored tendrils. "Care for a drink?" she muttered sheepishly, gesturing with her mug.
Fighting the urge to laugh, Jareth schooled his expression into one of faint annoyance. Pinching the bridge of his nose he shook his head.
"Please, tell me you are not drinking goblin ale after I warned you to avoid it?" he asked, the exasperation apparent in his tone.
Laughing, Sarah upended the remainder of the contents of the mug into her mouth and shrugged at him.
"Beats me. They didn't tell me what it was and I didn't ask. Although I did draw the line at peach nectar, given my last experience with peaches in your kingdom," she replied cheekily, her emerald eyes dancing with impish delight as she looked at him.
Jareth raised an eyebrow as he glared at her, his mismatched eyes narrowing at her irreverent tone. Now this was the Sarah he remembered from his Labyrinth, bold, impetuous, and infinitely trying.
"You would bring that up, Precious," he replied sharply, his voice edged with ice.
Seemingly oblivious to the hint of menace in his voice, Sarah blithely continued, "However, seeing as how I'm still able to form a coherent sentence and haven't ended up in some crystal ballroom courtesy of hallucinogenic fruit, I'd say the contents of the mug were harmless enough."
Then she tried to stand up.
Upon placing weight on her legs, they promptly informed her that gravity worked far too well and they were going on holiday, because she ended up sprawled in a heap at Jareth's feet.
"Hmm…" she muttered, a puzzled expression clouding her features, "My dad always said rum made you legless, apparently goblin cider does too," she quipped, hiccupping softly as she giggled.
Moving her head, she turned to look up at him, her eyes making it to his knees before she thought better of it, her libido and inner-self taking that precise moment to break out of their discussion of his Majesty's tight pants, to realize that she was about to look up and get an up-close-and-personal view of said tight pants and everything else they barely contained.
- Hell yeah! – yelped her libido happily, while her inner-self blushed crimson and stammered something about needing to wash her hair, before running off to hide amongst last week's Algebra homework problems in a dusty corner of Sarah's mind.
Unable to restrain himself any further, Jareth chuckled, looking at her with a bemused smirk as he bent over her. Grabbing Sarah's arm, he hauled her up and unceremoniously tossed her over his shoulder. Wrapping an arm around her knees to secure her in place, he strode out of the pub, with Bob and Squint trailing behind him.
Sarah giggled louder as her libido was rendered speechless, having gone from an up-close view of his Majesty's thighs swathed in the tight grey breeches, to an up-close view of the Goblin King's ass. As far as her libido was concerned, this day could not possibly get any better.
- Best! Birthday! Ever! – her libido crowed triumphantly, before collapsing in a hormone riddled puddle of goo.
Gasping, Sarah tried to get Jareth's attention, although finding it hard to speak as she was marched through the marketplace, hanging upside down over the Goblin King's shoulder.
"Please. Put. Me down. Your. Majesty," she pleaded in between giggles. "This. Is. Hardly. Dignified."
"Dignified? And just what about the behavior you were exhibiting just now was dignified? he snorted derisively, ignoring her pleas and swatting her lightly as she squirmed on his shoulder. "Be still, Sarah."
Resigned to being carried from the market like a sack of potatoes and somewhat dizzy from her upside down view of the world, Sarah stilled her struggles and instead focused on watching the muscles of Jareth's thighs and ass move, rippling with each step.
- Oh wow! Yumminess overload! – screeched her libido, nearly convulsing with hormonal happiness.
Coming to a stop near a fountain that appeared to depict a goblin warrior, or perhaps it was a housewife, it was hard to tell, Jareth finally addressed Bob and Squint.
"You two had one simple task, keep Lady Sarah out of trouble. And what do you do? You take her to a pub. Dare I ask why? And then you let her drink goblin cider! A mortal girl. Of all the stupid things to do…" he growled at them, while Sarah tried to contort her body so she could see her goblin friends as they stood before the king.
With much stretching, Sarah managed to arch her body around so she could see her friends, her face propped awkwardly on Jareth's elbow as he gripped her knees tightly against his chest. They were upside-down, but at least she could see them.
"It isn't their fault, Jareth," she began, feeling very dizzy by this point thanks in part to her bizarre posture, in addition to the goblin cider.
"Hush Sarah," he scolded, pinning her legs in place more tightly as she squirmed to keep her position. "Champion of the Labyrinth or not, you will address me properly in public, as either your Majesty or Sire," he chided, never taking his eyes off the goblins as they cowered in front of him. He seemed for all the world as if it was perfectly natural for the King of Goblins to be reading the riot act to some of his castle goblins, standing by the Goblin Mayor's commemorative fountain, while holding the Labyrinth Champion like a side of beef over his shoulder.
"Sorry, your Majesty," Sarah snapped. "But it isn't their fault. I asked if they knew of a place where we could get something to eat and I could sit down. I didn't know you would think it unseemly for me to be found in a pub," she explained, feeling sorry for her friends as they looked truly frightened. "Please don't punish them, it is my fault really. You could send me home instead, but please don't take it out on them."
Sighing, Jareth ran his free hand through his hair in aggravation, before peering down at her upside-down face propped on his elbow.
"No, I most certainly will not be sending you home. At least not over this, Dearest," he drawled, a hint of exasperation bleeding into his voice. "Honestly Sarah, when will you learn to think things through before you act? I can't have you getting my subjects into trouble like this. In case you haven't realized, they aren't the brightest of beings. I would expect you to show better judgment," he huffed in frustration.
"Oh geeze. Now you sound like my step-mother," grumbled Sarah petulantly. "I get enough of being talked to like I'm a stupid child at home. I don't need it from you too, Sire," she snapped, fighting the irresistible urge to sink her teeth into his elbow in retaliation – of course that would be incredibly childish, not to mention probably get her thrown into an oubliette and charged with an assassination attempt.
Considering this, Jareth growled low in his throat before breathing out sharply. "Point taken, Precious."
Looking at Bob and Squint, his irritation clearly etched on his face, Jareth inclined his head, "You two can go pick up Sarah's new dress, then return to the castle. Put our purchases in my study, then complete your duties for tonight."
Nodding frantically, the two goblins bowed deeply, Bob's colander hat rolling off his head and coming to a stop against Jareth's boot. Hastily snatching up his hat, Bob and Squint took off at a run for the castle gates.
"As for you, Precious, I did promise you a tour of some of the kingdom's more interesting sights. Do you think you can be good long enough for that?" he teased, looking down at her face resting against his elbow, her long velvet tresses lightly caressing his thigh.
"Well, I can hardly get into much trouble when I'm slung over your shoulder, now can I?" came the cheeky reply.
Chuckling darkly, the Goblin King merely tightened his grip on her legs.
"At least at the moment I know exactly where you are and what mischief you might be up to," he laughed, his pale eyes flashing wickedly at her upturned face.
Gently placing Sarah back on her feet, which had decided that they didn't need a vacation after all, Jareth wrapped an arm securely around her waist. Pulling her close he suggested that she shut her eyes. For once she did as instructed without argument, just before the town square fell from beneath her feet. Gasping at the feeling of the world falling away from her, she grabbed onto his arms tightly, just before she felt her feet touch the ground again with a jolt.
"Open your eyes slowly, Sarah," he chuckled, steadying her with his hands upon her elbows. "This type of travel can be very disorienting at first, but you will get used to it over time,"
The feeling of being dizzy was strong enough that Sarah didn't consider the full intent of what Jareth had just said. Rather, she hesitantly opened her eyes to find that they were standing on top of a mountain ridge, overlooking a waterfall that shimmered with a delicate rainbow of color as tiny water fairies in various shades of blue danced over the front of the falls.
"These are the Fairy Falls," Jareth murmered quietly, his lips near her ear as he whispered softly. "We must be quiet, as the fairies dislike loud noises and are not particularly fond of visitors, even if the visitor is the King."
They sat near the falls for awhile in silence – Sarah watching the fairies dance in the water, and Jareth watching Sarah watching the fairies. As he suspected, she was enthralled by the scene before them, her eyes bright as they traced the movements of the multi-hued fairies as they darted in and out of the water, lifting up individual drops of water as crystal prisms.
"What are they doing?" she whispered, leaning closer to him so he could hear her.
"They are imbuing individual water drops with fairy magic. When the drops find their way downstream and come to rest upon the shore, they will transform into water lilies, a special flower of water fairies, and one they use for many things," he replied softly, pausing as their presence was finally discovered by the fairies.
Pulling Sarah close, he transported them away from the falls before the angry flock of fairies got close enough to complain.
Sarah was giggling as they appeared at their next stop, finding herself sitting next to Jareth on a small hill overlooking an immense orchard. For miles in front of them, various fruit trees stretched in neat rows, the scent of fruit hanging heavy in the air, making Sarah feel somewhat disoriented.
"Please don't tell me that is a gigantic peach orchard," Sarah laughed, the sound ringing merrily down the hill. "I really do have an aversion to peaches after my last adventure here."
Winking at her, Jareth helped her stand and escorted her down the hill toward the gates of the orchard. "Fine then, I won't tell you that," he said cryptically, his pale eyes flashing mischievously.
As they went through the gate into the orchard, Sarah felt the air change, becoming heavy with magic, so much so that it felt like a wet wool blanket being placed over her head.
"No…" she gasped, pulling away from him.
"Sarah?" Jareth asked, his eyebrows knitting with concern as she ran back outside the gate to lean against it panting and gasping.
Frowning, Jareth followed her, lightly resting his hand on her back as she bent double gasping for air.
"I'm sorry Precious," he sighed, watching her closely as she breathed deep once more. "No mortals that I know of have ever visited the orchard. I had no idea it would affect you so."
Panting, she shook her head at him, a pale smile on her face. Her voice cracked as she spoke, "It's okay, it's just that amount of magic in there is stifling. I couldn't breathe. It was just too much to take."
Running a hand through her hair to smooth it, Sarah turned to peer back into the orchard from the safety of the silver gates.
"Why is there so much concentrated magic in the orchard?" she asked, her slender fingers encircling the bars of the gate as she leaned as close as she dared to the orchard itself.
"This is the Orchard of Dreams, inside it grows all of the enchanted fruits of the kingdom," he explained. "Some are used for runners and others are used to make various products that are traded throughout the Underground."
Nodding, Sarah laughed nervously, sneaking a surreptitious look at him while he gazed at the orchard.
"Let me guess, my enchanted peach came from here?" she asked, not surprised when he nodded. "Does the crystal ballroom dream come with all the peaches?"
Jareth smiled gently at her and led her from the gate, walking her toward a nearby wooden door set into an outer wall of the Labyrinth. As they walked the twists and turns of the Labyrinth, Jareth explained.
"The fruit is imbued with magic, yes, however the dreams that come depend upon the person using the fruit and the purpose it is being put to. The ballroom aspect of the dream was indeed yours, but it was modified by my purpose…"
"To detain me and make me lose track of time. Yeah, I remember," Sarah grumbled as she interrupted him, a trace of bitterness creeping into her voice before she could control it.
Stopping, Jareth turned to face her, a gloved hand pushing a stray tendril of hair behind her ear as he caressed her cheek lightly. With a deep sigh he looked down at her. Sarah nibbled her lip, trying to read the emotion flitting through his eyes, something untenable one moment, then gone the next, to be replaced by a look that spoke of regret.
"Sadly Precious, that was indeed the original purpose. Had that stayed the purpose you would have merely had the ballroom dream you had been having for years," he explained, his voice deep and low, a faint trace of sadness lacing his tone.
"You knew about that?" she whispered, a faint blush creeping into her cheeks at the thought of what other dreams he might know.
"Not really, Dearest. I only know it must have been a dream you had regularly, because that is what the peach showed you, in the beginning at least. The enchanted fruit is designed to pull up the dreamer's favorite sleeping dream."
Considering this, Sarah paused, her face puzzled as she thought about it. "So my peach really must have been rotten, because the dream that it showed me was not one that I had ever had."
Jareth gave a wan smile, "That is my fault, I'm afraid. I manipulated your dream to allow me in. By doing so, it changed your dream, to suit my changed purpose."
Sarah frowned slightly, looking troubled at this admission. Opening his mouth to continue, Sarah cut him off by turning away, her face turned toward the cobblestone path they were travelling upon, unable to look him in the eye any longer.
"I – I don't want to discuss this anymore, Jareth. Not now…. Maybe not ever," she said firmly. She knew he was going to say what his purpose had really been, and if it was not to make her lose time, she was not sure she was ready to hear what his true motive was. "Please, can we not discuss this."
Moving toward her, Jareth lightly cupped her chin as his gloved thumb tenderly rested momentarily against her lower lip, lifting her head to face him. "When you are ready to hear the whole truth, Sarah, you have but to ask. Until then, I will not bring it up, unless you do."
Jareth sighed quietly as Sarah placed her hand on his forearm, a gesture that at the same time distanced herself from him, while being intimate.
"Thank you, Jareth," she murmured, a deep ache filling her chest at the pained expression on his face.
Tucking her hand into the crook of his elbow, Jareth led her off down the path once more. They walked silently for some time, each lost in their own thoughts, not realizing that they were both reliving their time in the crystal ballroom, Sarah recognizing that his expression just now was the same look he gave her as she ran from him in the ballroom, and Jareth regretting that he had gone against the rules and modified her dream in the first place, while knowing that either way, it would not have made a difference in the outcome.
Eventually, they came upon what appeared to Sarah at least, to be a dead end, one which, if her sense of direction was correct, was at one of the extreme outer corners of the Labyrinth.
"Um…I know things are not always what they appear around here, but aren't we in what should be an outer corner of the Labyrinth?" she ventured, running her hand over the wall in front of them.
"Yes, you would be correct," came the smooth reply, an impish smirk lighting the Goblin King's face as he looked at the Labyrinth's Champion while she tried to figure out the trick to the corner.
"While I will concede that the walls of the Labyrinth are quite beautiful, something I didn't notice on my first trip," Sarah chuckled, prodding several of the stones gently, "I hardly think a dead end at the extreme outer reach of the Labyrinth qualifies as a 'tourist site' of interest."
Jareth shooed her out of the way with a wink, "Allow me, Precious. This is a very special site that is not on the general public tour."
Waving his hand, he produced a glowing green crystal that he pressed against the wall, where it seemed to dissolve into the stones. As the crystal was absorbed into the stones, they swung inward revealing a tunnel. Jareth took her hand and pulled her into the darkness, his steps sure as they descended into the pitch black of the tunnel. Sarah shivered from the oppressive darkness, a faint whimper escaping her pursed lips as she stumbled, knocking against Jareth's back. Jareth wrapped his arm around her, steadying her as he continued on, the feeling of his arm and the heady scent of him in the confined space reassuring her as they moved through the tunnel.
Slowly they made their way along the corridor, when Sarah saw a hint of light ahead of them. Squinting, Sarah followed Jareth into the sun once more, gasping as she found herself in a lush garden, the castle towering over them. They were at the center of the Labyrinth and the kingdom.
"That is one hell of a short-cut!" she laughed, emerald eyes wide in surprise as she grinned happily.
"Welcome to my private garden, Precious," he smiled.
Jareth showed her through the garden, pointing out various exotic flowers that he had planted especially for his own enjoyment. Sarah was floored by the vibrant colors and riot of scents that flowed on the breeze.
"You are so lucky," she breathed, sniffing a bright purple flower that looked like a cross between a tulip and a rose, "your garden is gorgeous, Jareth."
Smiling indulgently, he leaned toward her, his mismatched eyes hinting at mischief as he chuckled. "While it is a lovely garden, made all the more pleasant by your company, I find a nice game of chess is the best way to enjoy this garden," he muttered in a conspiratorial tone.
"Chess," she said incredulously. "You can't be serious!"
He gave her a sly wink as he led her around a corner, bowing slightly and making a sweeping gesture with his arm toward the life-size chessboard in front of them. Sarah's delighted laugh echoed throughout the garden as she saw the neat rows of goblins lined up on the board, waiting for the game to begin.
Without waiting for Jareth, Sarah raced up to the board, seeing Hoggle positioned as a rook for the black side (and looking particularly cranky about it), while Didymus was lined up as one of the white knights. Grinning, she checked out the other 'pieces' seeing that the black king and white queen were missing. She laughed, weaving through the pieces on the white side to take her place in the queen's starting square. Taking her position, she looked to where Jareth had taken up his position as the black king, his form flickered slightly until he stood there wearing the Goblin King's regalia, clothed from head to toe in elaborately carved and embossed, black leather armor, complete with the shimmering cape that shone like midnight, swirling around his legs.
"Show off," she giggled, shaking her head.
Raising an elegant eyebrow in a supercilious smirk, Jareth grinned at her. "Close your eyes, Precious." Although his smirk made her uneasy, Sarah obeyed, shutting her eyes at which point he lobbed a crystal at her, the fragile orb bursting as it hit her forehead. "Open your eyes, Sarah," he chuckled softly, the sound rumbling from his throat.
Sarah opened her eyes and squeaked as she looked down. She was now swathed in yards of shimmering white material, heavily beaded with crystals, held by the most delicate of silver threads. Once again, she was wearing the sparkling confection of a dress that she had worn in the crystal ballroom.
"The white queen should be dressed appropriately, don't you think, Dearest?" the Goblin King crooned in honeyed tones. "It is your move, Sarah-mine. Make it a good one."
His comment woke up Sarah's inner-self, who had spent the last few hours sitting amongst her Algebra homework, still shell-shocked by the sight of Jareth's ass and assets.
- Does rushing the opposing King and forfeiting count as a move?
Jareth and Sarah traded moves for some time, Jareth marveling at the conservative nature of her game, as she met each of his moves strategically. After some time, the players on the board were whittled down until Jareth was left with himself, a bishop and two pawns, one of which was asleep in his square, clutching a black chicken. At this point, Sarah was left with herself, Sir Didymus, and a pawn.
Peering carefully around the board, Sarah considered her next move, then grinned, her eyes lighting up as she realized she could win the game in two moves, if she sacrificed Sir Didymus.
"Hah!" she crowed triumphantly. "I win…I've got you mated in two moves unless you sacrifice your bishop and a pawn."
Jareth coughed, as he cocked an eyebrow in response to her gleeful jibe, wondering if she realized the full meaning of what she had just said. Seeing that she was too engrossed in actually winning the game to notice, he fought the urge to take advantage of her claim, but in the end, couldn't help himself.
"Hmm… mated, my dear?" he drawled, a silken tongue flicking over his lips as he looked at her, laughing at her visible discomfort and congratulating himself for making her squirm so pleasantly yet again – something that was rapidly becoming his favorite pastime.
Sarah's libido gave a squeak of approval and melted into a hormonal puddle, as Sarah blushed brightly, her mouth opening and closing while she tried desperately to form an appropriately scathing response, and failed miserably.
As luck would have it, she was saved further embarrassment by the arrival of a black chicken, which launched itself at Sarah's head from a nearby tree. The black chicken landed on Sarah's head, pecking madly at the silver vines woven into her heavy brown tresses, all the while clucking in a way that sounded suspiciously like cursing.
Sarah yelped, her hands flying to her head to grab the chicken, who pecked her sharply, drawing blood.
"OUCH! Blasted chicken!"
Jareth moved to help Sarah, only to be bowled over by the goblins who had already been taken out of the game, as they rushed the board.
"Rosalinda's assassinated the Queen!" shouted one goblin with a fluffy orange mustache, launching himself at Sarah's waist.
"Save the Queen," shrieked a goblin with a bulbous red nose, wearing a black and white sock as a hat.
"Not Rosalinda!" wailed another goblin, throwing himself at Sarah, tripping over another goblin and sliding underneath Sarah's skirts.
"Help Kingy Lady!" bawled a goblin with blue horns as he threw a clod of dirt at Rosalinda.
Sarah screamed as the dirt hit the side of her head, weaving around the board trying to get away from the chicken viciously pecking her head and the goblin now under her skirts, hanging on to her leg.
At this point, a group of chickens came charging through the garden, Phil, the black rooster in the lead, with Bob and Squint bringing up the rear.
"Save Boss Lady, Phil!" ordered Bob, clutching his colander hat to his head as he ran, waving the scrap of gold velvet from the clothiers like a flag above his head.
Phil clucked angrily and flew at Sarah's head, pecking at Rosalinda, who refused to relinquish her perch, digging her claws further into Sarah's hair.
"Ohhh! Owww!" cried Sarah, trying once more to grab Rosalinda, but only succeeding in pulling out a few of her tail feathers, which resulted in another fierce peck to Sarah's hand.
Sarah collapsed in a heap, trying desperately to get the chickens out of her hair. Curled in a ball in the middle of the chess board, Sarah found herself surrounded by goblins who were hitting at her, climbing on her, and tugging at her attempting to help. Sadly, despite their desire to help, they only succeeded in pissing Rosalinda off further.
Finally untangling himself from the goblins at the edge of the board, Jareth frowned as he tried to find Sarah, before realizing that she was under the writhing, moving, yelling mass of goblin and chicken bodies in the middle of the board.
"ENOUGH!" he roared, his mismatched eyes flashing dangerously. Jareth lobbed a crystal at the moving mass of noise, and with a loud pop all of the goblins and chickens disappeared, leaving Sarah huddled on the ground in a little ball.
Having put down yet another chicken rebellion, Jareth knelt next to her, gently placing his hand on her shoulder, "Sarah…they are gone now."
Gingerly, she sat up, looking in dismay at what remained of the lovely silvery dress, "Oh no! The dress," she sniffed, her sob cut short as she peered at Jareth, giggling at what she saw. Jareth was covered in splotches of dirt, had goblin footprints on his breastplate, and black chicken feathers in his hair.
Jareth shook his head, reaching up to pluck feathers out of Sarah's hair, before tenderly attempting to wipe some of the dirt from her temple.
"If you think I look funny, Dearest, you should see yourself," he chuckled, a bemused smiled teasing the corners of his mouth.
This just made Sarah laugh harder, the more she looked at him and herself, the harder she laughed, until she was laying down on the ground, holding her sides, the sound of her laughter ringing brightly through the King's private garden. When she had finally calmed down, Jareth helped her up. She winced and pulled away when he grasped her injured hand. Seeing the bleeding puncture on her hand and another where Rosalinda's claw had scratched Sarah's forehead, Jareth quickly pulled one of his gloves off, tenderly running his fingertips over the scratch on her head. Sarah gasped, her emerald eyes wide in wonder as a tingling electrical sensation washed over the skin that he touched. Taking her injured hand in his gloved one, he touched his bare fingertips to the puncture. It was all she could do to bite back the purr that threatened to escape her at the feel of his fingers on her skin.
When her wounds had been healed, Jareth smiled, his lips lightly brushing along her forehead. "Come Sarah, I think our touring for the day is over," he laughed, wrapping his arm around her waist.
Sarah shivered at the now familiar feeling of the world falling away around her. Peeking from under hooded lids, she saw a swirling vortex of black and silver that turned violet just before her feet touched ground once more. Opening her eyes fully she realized she was back in Jareth's bedroom.
"Hey!" she protested, jerking away from him, her face darkening with indignation.
"Relax, Precious," Jareth soothed, his voice calm and reassuring as he smiled at her. "While you need a bath, I wouldn't dream of suggesting that you do so in my room, unless you plan to join me in my bath, as I certainly need one now too?"
Sarah glared at him, her emerald eyes snapping furiously as she crossed her arms across her chest. She watched as Jareth moved toward a door, opening it to reveal another room. Following him into the room, she gasped as she looked around, taking in the lovely shades of blue and green that made the room feel as if it were a soothing seaside retreat.
"This is the Queen's Chambers, or rather, they will be when I take a Queen," he said, his mismatched eyes twinkling brightly at her. "However, for today, they are yours to use, Dearest. Your new dress is in the wardrobe and you'll find a robe and everything you need for bathing in the washroom."
Moving back toward the door separating the rooms, he paused, a tender smile flickering across his face as he looked at her, lovely despite her disheveled appearance.
"You have three hours before dinner, Precious. I suggest you have a bath and rest a bit. However if you find that you are bored, you are welcome to knock on my door and I'll see if I can't find some way to amuse you until dinner," he drawled with a sly smirk.
Seeing her flush crimson, he chuckled darkly and shut the door between them, leaving her to contemplate the many potential meanings of his offer. Oh yes, teasing her in this way was definitely his new favorite pastime.