Chapter 4: Good Hospitality

"I'm a king, and you expect me to sleep on the roof?"

"Well, of the two of us, you are the one who can turn into a bird-"

"Kings do not sleep on roofs!"

"-Besides, this is your home, whereas I am here out of the goodness of my heart to help you with your kingdom for only a short time, so I should get the bed." Sarah finished primly, crossing her arms over her chest and staring him down.

Jareth gaped at her incredulously, mouth opening and closing in silent fury. This had not been what he pictured would happen with the sleeping arrangements when they had made their deal. He rallied and tried using the rich, deep, velvety voice, the one that had seemed to affect her when he had used it before.

"I don't see why we can't share, precious thing-"

Sarah held up her darts from the carnival from a few hours before and fixed him with a glare so black that the demons of the abyss would have been intimidated. Jareth huffed in irritation and waved his hand, turning the darts into a pair of fluffy pink handcuffs, and simultaneously magically dressing himself for bed in a pair of low slung gray silk pants.

Sarah froze for a moment, then dropped the handcuffs and turned away from him, walking calmly to the door.

"Where are you going." He asked.

"To find somewhere to sleep." She answered simply.

"There are no other beds in the entire castle-" He started snidely.

"I am aware." She said curtly, nearing the door.

Jareth ground his teeth in irritation. Was she really so repulsed by him? No, he knew she wasn't, he had seen how she reacted to him when he was near her, how her pulse would race and her breathing would quicken. Even now, there was a red tinge to her cheeks and a glaze in her eyes. She was undeniably attracted to him, so why was she being so obstinate? The lines on his face smoothed as a thought came to him. Perhaps she was not so different from him after all. Maybe she just needed to feel in control.

He had once, in a fit of desperate passion, offered to be her slave, not really knowing what that meant. Was that what she was waiting for? For him to deliver on all his promises, to put himself at her mercy? He wanted to laugh out loud at the idea, but his cunning mind was already mapping out every possible path he could take, and he could see that this was the one, or at least variation of it, was the most likely to succeed. Besides, what did it matter what he did or said, as long as he got what he wanted in the end? It would be too late for her to back out then, anyway. And besides, he was near exhaustion from his recent attempts at managing the rift, he really didn't want to waste energy on an argument right now.

"Sarah," He called beseechingly after her.

Sarah paused halfway through the door, preparing a cold look of rejection to shoot at him before continuing on. It vanished when she turned around and locked eyes with a very grumpy barn owl perched on a table near where Jareth had been standing. The owl narrowed its eyes at her and gave her the most sarcastic hoot she had ever heard, before taking off out the window.

Sarah grinned in triumph, running to the window ledge and hanging out so she could look up at the roof. Sure enough, there was a small shape settled on the very tip of the tower, a black owl-shaped silhouette set against the starry sky. Sarah called out, "Do you promise that you will stay away until I say it's okay?"

There was silence for a moment, in which she could almost physically feel the sharp edges of his thoughts, and then the hostility dissipated and there was a soft hoot; an unmistakeable 'yes'.

Sarah smiled widely at this small victory, feeling a new and unfamiliar warmth towards the Goblin King. Somehow, she knew he would keep his word, and she suddenly felt more comfortable with him than she ever had before. At least she knew she could sleep in peace, that she would have a safe place to relax at the end of the day.

"Thank you," she whispered, half hoping that he wouldn't hear.

The next morning, Jareth pretended that his rooftop indignities had never happened, and Sarah pretended that the Goblin King still had no redeeming qualities. They ate a silent breakfast in the same little room that they had once had an uncomfortable dinner in, all those months ago. Despite the natural tension that blossomed whenever they got close, the silence between them was a comfortable one this morning, both of them absorbed in their own thoughts.

Sarah was wondering if the laws she had made were still in effect, and what she should do if they weren't, and what the goblins had been told about her absence, and how she would cope with sharing her days with the undefinable creature that was the Goblin King. True to his word, (or hoot, she supposed) he had not returned to the royal chambers until she had yelled the all-clear this morning, after she had dressed and straightened the rooms up a bit. He had flown in the window then and transformed, miraculously dressed and primped as if he had spent hours getting ready, and had tucked her hand in the crook of his arm and led her to breakfast, inquiring if she had slept well. Sarah had been bewildered and almost ridiculously happy about this show of respect and gallantry from him, and had had to make a real effort to hide the fact that she was pleased. She wanted to believe that she had misjudged him, that he wasn't as terrible as she had first supposed, but that had the flavor of something that was too good to be true. She decided that she would maintain her image of him as an amoral trickster, that way she could be pleasantly surprised if he proved her wrong, rather than disappointed if he didn't live up to her expectations.

Jareth, on the other hand, was wondering whether or not he should tell her about all the gowns and other clothes he had had made for her, or if he should just let her continue wearing his clothes and let her find out about her wardrobe on her own. As he sipped his tea, he eyed the black leather waistcoat, which was wrapped snugly around her chest beneath one of his flowing white shirts, and he decided that the old human saying was right. Patience was a virtue.

Not trusting himself to follow his own advice, he rose and excused himself, making some vague excuse about having to examine the perimeter. Sarah stared after him, somewhat baffled by his sudden departure, then shrugged it off and headed down to the Goblin City to see what had changed since she had last been here.

She walked past the empty throne room, down the stairs and into the courtyard. The few goblins that were milling about there bowed to her briefly, then went back to their business. Sarah was slightly miffed, but tried not to show it. So what if the Goblin King got an enthusiastic horde clamoring for him when he came back, while she only got a lukewarm reception? At least they were still clean and sober. Still, it would be wise to win their love, she thought, and began mulling over ideas as she wandered.

The Goblin City circled about ninety percent of the castle, running up against high stone walls that enclosed a secret garden that faced the east. Sarah had seen it from a window soon after coming here the first time, and had spent nearly a week and a half trying to find a way in. The walls were too high to climb, and there weren't any doors. The goblins had been no help at all, acting baffled when she talked about a garden. Finally, after searching every inch of the wall a dozen times over without success, Sarah had lost her temper and flung herself at it in frustration, fists balled and arms flailing. She had been in a right state of shock when she fell forward and ended up in a lavender bush. She had felt foolish then, she knew better than anyone that nothing was what it seemed in this place.

This was were she headed now, walking up to the wall and pushing against it with all her strength, then stumbling forward to catch herself when she felt it begin to give way. In a moment she stood in a grove of cherry trees, the still apparently solid wall at her back and a sprawling mosaic of flowers and foliage stretched out in front of her. Here, the air was sweeter, the sky was clearer, and there was a feeling of sacredness, a peaceful and wholesome presence that was more precious to her than a mountain of gold. She had only come here a handful of times, not wanting it to become something ordinary and unspecial. It was her special thinking place, for when she was unsure or unhappy. She wasn't sure why she had come here today, perhaps she had just missed it.

She soon realized that she wasn't alone in the garden. As she emerged from the rows of hydrangea bushes that lay between the cherry trees and the pond, she stopped and stared at the profile of the Goblin King, who stood on the edge of the pond, seemingly oblivious to her. His eyes were fixed on the southern wall and he wore a troubled and brooding look. She followed his line of sight and her eyes widened. The garden was higher than the surrounding land, and she would see that the storm on the horizon was still there, and much larger and much closer than when she had been here last. She would guess that it was no more than a hundred miles away now. She looked back at Jareth, meaning to ask him what it was, but the words died in her mouth at the look on his face.

He stared back at her, his face stony and cold. Sarah suddenly felt as if she'd interrupted something private.

"Sorry, I didn't realize that you were here-"

She stopped as he turned and walked briskly away, not sparing her another glance or acknowledging that she had spoken.

Sarah sighed in exasperation as she watched his retreating back disappear through the far wall. One minute he was imposing and suggestive and intense, the next he was cold and indifferent. She didn't know what to make of it. A small part of her was a bit disappointed. At times, when she had run the Labyrinth, and since then when he had come to bring her back to the Underground, she had been sure that he wanted her, in the way a man wants a woman, and though she didn't regret resisting him, she would be lying if she said she wasn't flattered by it.

But when he acted like this, rudely leaving her with little to no explanation, she felt like she was nothing more than a glorified assistant. She shook her head firmly. No, it didn't matter what he thought, she was queen, and that was that. What's said is said.

She walked out to the end of the narrow wooden pier that went out about one fourth of the way into the large pond, sat down, took off her shoes and socks and let her feet dangle off the edge into the cool blue water, smiling when the beautiful koi brushed against her toes. She would have to make the best of this, she supposed. It wasn't like she had much of a choice, and it wasn't all bad, she thought, looking around at the magical garden. Purple dragonbirds, a sort of cross between dragonflies and hummingbirds, were buzzing over the surface of the pond in dizzy circles, hunting for bugs. Suddenly, an enormous orange koi leapt out of the pond from the side of the pier, arcing over Sarah and catching a dragonbird in midair, before diving back into the water with a splash, leaving her laughing and soaking wet. Looking up at the sun, she realized that it was well into the afternoon. She put on her socks and boots and trudged back up to the castle to hold court.

She didn't see the Goblin King again until dinner, when he appeared in the royal chambers, conjuring an extra chair and sitting himself down across from her without a word, then calling a goblin to appear and bring him food and eating utensils. Sarah watched him warily, but he focused on his food and ignored her. Feeling like she ought to do something, she tried making small talk, but he would only respond with a single word or grunt, or nothing at all, and he wouldn't look at her. Finally growing frustrated, she snapped at him.

"Why did you even bring me here?" She said sharply, voice raised, putting her fork down on her plate with a chink.

He stopped eating and looked at her for the first time, expression mildly curious. Sarah waited a moment, but still he said nothing.

"Why bring me back here to the Labyrinth? Why make me queen? I don't get it." She was good and angry now, and determined to get an answer.

He gazed at her coolly, speaking in an even tone. "I owe you no explanation."

"Like hell you don't-"

The Goblin King stood and stepped away from the table, giving her a dangerous smile and still speaking in that infuriatingly calm tone. "I will not be spoken to in that manner, Sarah, not even by you."

Sarah realized with horror that she could not, in fact, speak at all. Her mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out. She stood up and stared at him with wide eyes as he walked over to her with long, graceful strides, stopping when they were shoulder to shoulder. "Understood?"

Sarah stood still as a statue, trying not to panic. Jareth seemed to be pleased with her reaction.

He promised I would be unharmed, and that I would be free if he broke his word... She thought, her mind racing.

"Good night, Goblin Queen." He said in a smug, mocking voice, slowly raising his hand and placing two gloved fingers on her throat, sliding them gently across her windpipe. Then, he walked over to the window. Sarah turned to watch him fly away in his owl form.

Sarah realized that she could speak again and went to the window, yelling after him, "I hope you fall off the roof tonight!"

She could have sworn that she heard his laughter inside her head.

Things were much the same over the next several weeks. The king and queen would meet in the small tower to share a mostly silent breakfast on the balcony, then go their separate ways until dinner. They seemed to have developed an unspoken agreement about how to share the responsibilities; he would occupy the throne room in the mornings, and she would hold her court in the evenings. She was mostly happy with this, and so far there hadn't been any disagreements between them; he seemed to accept her rulings without comment, and she found that he was a very capable ruler, despite being a bit harsh and archaic and having a penchant for defenestration.

The Goblin King would sometimes disappear for hours or even days at a time, looking wane and exhausted when he returned, but refusing to give any explanation as to what he had been doing. Sarah stayed away from him on those days, for he would be in a terrible temper until he got some rest. The rest of the time his moods would swing from brooding to flirtatious to mocking, and Sarah learned how to deal with him, so that soon they were able to occasionally have somewhat straightforward conversations, although he still never told her anything she wanted to know. Still, she kept trying.

"You promised, you know." She said one morning as they were finishing up breakfast, four weeks into her stay.

He looked up from his eggs sharply, eyeing her with a mixture of suspicion and curiosity. "Promised what, precious?"

"That you would tell me where my friends are."

His expression became unreadable, and she got the feeling that he was searching for an out. Again.

"I never said when," He said, eyes twinkling as he waited for her to start yelling.

"I'm not going to forget, you know," she continued in a quiet, demure tone. This was delicate work; he was so easily provoked, she had to stay calm and polite and make no mention of cake if she wanted to get anywhere with him. Besides, she was starting to suspect that he enjoyed it when she lost her temper, and she didn't want to give him the satisfaction.

"How long are you going to make me wait?" Sarah took a deep, slow breath through her nose, biting her lip and giving him a patient, beseeching look.

Jareth faltered, feeling himself soften as he was confronted with those big, lovely, pleading green eyes. He sighed deeply in resignation. Damn the woman. She was doing that on purpose.

"Very well. I will tell you when I return tonight." He said magnanimously.

Sarah tried not to look triumphant, an easy feat as the rest of his words registered in her mind. "When you return? Are you leaving again?"

He chuckled. "Just for a few hours. Why, do you miss me when I'm gone, love?" He said teasingly, eyes taking on a predatory gleam and his cruel lips twisting in a smirk.

Sarah didn't answer, and so he left, fading away into nothing. She was half expecting his smirk to linger after him, Cheshire cat style, but it didn't. Putting her elbows on the table, she gazed pensively out over the Labyrinth, worrying that tonight would be a disaster. He was always in such a horrible mood when he returned from wherever it was that he went.

She needn't have worried, however, because he did not return that night. Or the night after, or the night after that. A week, and then two passed, and Sarah began to panic. She maintained her outward calm, sending out goblin search parties and interrogating anyone and everyone who might know where he was. But no one knew where the king went when he left, and he had never given her the faintest hint of what he did when he was not in the Labyrinth. On the fifteenth day in the afternoon, she was in the library when her goblin assistant came waddling into the room, wide eyed and breathless.

"Queen! Queenie! I's found 'im! The King, Majesty; I thinks he's dead!"

"What!" Sarah stood and strode over to the goblin, grabbing his shoulders and bending over slightly to look him in the eye. "Explain!"

"He's in the lost things, Queen! I shows ya!"

Sarah let him go and he turned and waddled off as fast as he could, which, considering that his legs were as short as a penguin's, wasn't very fast. Sarah walked after him, wringing her hands and huffing impatiently, wishing that she had magic so that she could transport them there faster. As it was, it took nearly an hour for Munk to lead her to the piles of rubbish and discarded and lost things piled outside of the Goblin City. She followed him to a small mountain of broken globes and torn maps, where a small group of goblins were standing worriedly around the motionless figure of the Goblin King, who was lying on the ground. Sarah ran forward, shoving goblins out of the way, and fell on her knees by his head.

He was pale as milk, and thinner than she had ever seen. Dark circles purpled the skin under his eyes, which were closed, his hair was limp and his clothes were filthy.

She shook him. "Jareth, wake up!"

No response. She felt for a pulse and breathed a sigh of relief. It was a weak, slow pulse, but it was steady, and definitely there. Drops of rain began to fall on them and the sky darkened. It would be night soon and they were nearly a mile from the castle. She looked around to the wide eyed goblins that surrounded them.

"Help me carry him up to the castle, all of you, now!"

They hurried to obey, and in what felt like no time at all she had him laid out on his back on the bed. They all stood around for a few hours, waiting for something to happen, but the Goblin King slept on. His breathing was shallow and difficult, and the goblins were getting near frantic with worry. Finally, late in the evening, Sarah sent them all away, reassuring them the best she could and promising that she would let them back in in the morning.

She sat next to him on the massive bed, studying his profile in the reddish light from the fireplace. Even wasted and ragged as he was, he still looked alien and fierce, and it was with some trepidation that she reached out to feel his forehead. She'd never actually touched his skin before, and was a little surprised to find that it felt more or less like hers. He was warm, but not feverish, at least she didn't think he was. She didn't even know what he was, how was she supposed to know what was normal or not for him?

She got up and fetched an extra blanket, spreading it over him and tucking it around his shoulders, then checked his pulse again. It was a bit stronger, but not by much. She crawled back onto the other side of the bed, yawning as she felt exhaustion overcome her. She stayed awake as long as she could, keeping a vigilant watch, terrified that she would fall asleep and wake up to him being gone, either figuratively or literally. After a few more hours, she felt herself drifting off despite her best efforts. She crawled under the covers, turning so that she could see his profile in the dying firelight, see the subtle rise and fall of his chest.

"Don't you dare leave me here alone, Goblin King." She muttered before drifting off.

AN: I've decided that I don't like the title of this story, in fact I hate it. Maybe that's why I have such a hard time motivating myself to write new chapters. Anyway, I need a new one, but I'm drawing a blank. Anyone got any ideas? I'm open to suggestions.

I tried to dive a bit into Sarah's identity here, she is difficult to write, I think because she has so much going on beneath the surface. It is worth it though, if you can capture her character, which I hope I am doing well. On one hand, she's a girl from New York. On the other, she is a world-conquering queen with her own independent power that comes from who she is, not from magic. I don't want her to have magic in this story, I want her to be awesome all on her own. I am also doing something with Jareth's character as well, but I can't tell you what it is yet.

The next chapter will be coming along shortly, I am already typing it, but could use some encouragement. Please Review!