(AN) Author's Notes: So it is with my pleasure to gladly give you a long overdue special double update enjoy and leave your comments.
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: All copyright right to Labyrinth 1986 musical fantasy film directed/created by Jim Henson, Dennis Lee with George Lucas as executive producer. Based on conceptual designs by Brian Froud, the film was written by Terry Jones. I also need to give credit and thanks to my new co-partner ElauraGrave who is helping me get this story off the ground so soon.
Original characters AKA (OC's) Aveline, Zayn, and Placidus are to me the authoress smcandy. I don't want to see anyone rip off/steal or take any of my original characters without my exclusive permission otherwise there will be consequences and hell to pay!
Chapter 17: Lesson not quite learned.
"Zayn, I see you've met Sarah."
Jareth wore the same midnight blue and black ensemble he had all those months ago—the same outfit from the night he'd shown up in her parents' bedroom. The black collar that rose high and wide behind his head provided a dramatic background to his shock of white-blond hair. His cloak intertwined with the strange leather jacket, weaving in and out of its ribbing and layers. The midnight cape shone blue in the light and black in the shadows, like an illusion mimicking the very character of its wearer. The insectile breastplate was like the black carapace of a beetle that glinted a shimmering shade of aubergine in the light. A smaller copy of the medallion he was never without jutted out from the middle of his chest, where it was inlaid into the breastplate; above it, sets of actual bones and claws were also inlaid into the material, as if guarding his throat and daring you to take a swing. His black leggings, boots, sleeves, and gloves seemed to exaggerate his presence rather than swallow him up in the colourless void.
His remark was casual, but his face told a different story. His eyebrows were raised and lips puckered in an annoyed sneer. His nose turned upward, and Sarah swore he bit the inside of his cheek.
"Ah, yes," said Zayn, stepping away from Sarah. He still remained close, backing away yet not backing down.
"And what makes you think you can bother my—"
"Your what, Jareth?" growled Zayn, stepping towards Jareth. "Your what? Your bride? Or your captive?!"
Three crystals appeared above Jareth's head and began to circle dangerously fast. Jareth yelled, "Why you—"
"Gentlemen!"
As fast as the flames of confrontation had flared, so they disappeared. The two monarchs wore unmasked looks of shock on their faces, and Jareth's crystals popped like bubbles. The crowd surrounding them quickly dispersed as a tall, shimmering woman swept into their midst. Her face was obscured by a dainty, organza veil attached to a black fedora pulled low over her brow. A large, pink bow, in the middle of which a glass star was pinned, sat on the brim and hung over the edge.
"I hope there's no trouble brewing here, especially when everyone is having such a nice time. Welcome, Sarah Williams; I'm so happy you could make it."
The woman dropped into a low curtsey, her exposed bust spilling out of her dress's plunging neckline. When the mysterious woman rose, she flicked her wrist, and her fedora disappeared in a flash of light. Some light remained behind as a tiny glowing marble, and it grew and grew until it morphed into a shiny pink hair-comb shaped like a shell. She tucked it behind her hair. Sarah was surprised to see lines underneath the woman's eyes; she was older than Sarah had originally supposed.
Despite her middle-aged appearance, the woman wore a youthful dress with a cinched bodice of pale pink, the collar of which was high and broad—though not nearly as dramatic as Jareth's. Around the bodice was a sort of purple overcoat with triangular spikes of material jutting out into midair. Its long, draping sleeves had large, bold cutouts on the shoulders. Sarah supposed there must be ribbing within the overcoat to keep the triangles sticking out to the sides so erect; the eight points framed her like a fallen star. Perhaps it was magic. Her rosy, mauve skirt laid close to her legs but was heavily pleated, and a transparent train of purplish-pink chiffon trailed behind her.
"Jareth," the woman nodded towards the Goblin King.
"Aveline," Jareth nodded back, his jaw set in a hard line.
"I'm glad you could make it," she continued, her voice suddenly projecting around the ballroom, "I'm especially glad you could attend with Sarah, the fabled human child who beat your Labyrinth." Aveline enunciated her last few words, and the identification of the human within their midst caused the crowd to murmur and whisper; the Champion of the Labyrinth was among them.
"It's an honor to have the first champion here at my ball. No human before her, who so foolishly wished their loved ones away, has ever succeeded in beating the Labyrinth. No wished-away has ever been rescued." Aveline'a voice drifted off into ominous silence. The quiet chatter of the guests continued, and the nervous energy in the air worked like static electricity; everyone's hair stood on end. Sarah shivered as she remembered how close she'd come to losing Toby, and the chill across her skin remained as she thought about how many before her had indeed lost loved ones and themselves to the Labyrinth. She flushed; grateful she had escaped the oubliette, grateful that she had escaped all the challenges of the Labyrinth when so many were not as lucky.
"I am Aveline," the woman addressed Sarah directly, "Aveline the Peaceful, as they have titled me. I am honoured to have you here at my ball. Don't be so judgmental towards humans," said Aveline, her voice now amplified to address the crowd once more, "they are stronger than you think. They may surprise you when you least expect it. All of you are so young, so young in this world…"
Aveline's gaze dropped, her sight turning inward as she thought about…well, Sarah didn't know. Eons, ages, perhaps even centuries, of her life. If Jareth was hundreds of years old and looked thirty, and this woman looked only a bit younger than her parents, how old must she be? Aveline looked up and continued to address the crowds, "So young, and so quick to judge. The human race is not perfect. But they have advanced since the old days and their disconnection from our realm. They don't have magic, but their hearts are good. And they are capable of great strength and great goodness. Great evil, yes, but also great good." Sarah offered their host a smile; the Fae mirrored Sarah's own sentiments, filling her with confidence.
"Sarah, perhaps you could sing a song from your world for us?"
Sarah felt that confidence falter.
"Please," continued Aveline, "it would be an honour to experience human music." Aveline lowered her voice. "You can prove yourself to the gossiping masses." The bright Fae winked at Sarah.
"Absolutely not," Jareth whispered. While the other Fae and Underground denizens looked at Aveline with shock, awe, and wonder, Jareth looked at her with…concern? Sarah could see by the slight crinkling in the corner of his eyes and tawt line of his mouth that something either concerned, confused, or both concerned and confused the Goblin King.
"I can give it a shot," Sarah said, earnestly.
"You have no reason to do so, nor should you." Jareth's voice was low and darkly deterrent. "You would only make yourself more of a spectacle. A curiosity for the dull auxiliary of this circus they call a ball."
Sarah stepped towards Jareth and placed a reassuring yet admonishing hand upon his chest.
"Your Highness, I need to show them that not all humans are as they are rumored to be. Time for a wake-up call."
Sarah didn't wait for Jareth's reaction. She stepped to the center of the ballroom. Aveline walked the circumference of the clearing, a wand appearing in her hand and held high. The lights and enchanted stars above dimmed, and the constellational orchestra tuned. Sarah cleared her throat.
"When you wish upon a star…"
The first line was a capella, but the heavenly orchestra quickly caught on.
"Makes no difference who you are,
Anything your heart desires
Will come to you…"
Sarah sung a song that every kid in North America, possibly every kid in the world, knew and loved. Yet the Fae looked on with enchanted expressions, mesmerized by the new song, although sung by an amateur voice.
"Like a bolt out of the blue,
Fate steps in and sees you through…"
Sarah imagined strong arms around her. She imagined she was dancing, twirling, spinning with someone safe, someone who would hold her and cherish her. Without noticing, she began to sway.
"When you wish upon a star,
Your dreams come true…"
Sarah opened her eyes that she didn't realize were closed. Everyone was dancing. The fae had paired up and were gently swaying to the simple yet charming music of Disney's creation and Sarah's imagination. Sarah smiled and started over, reaching the second verse this time.
Jareth stepped up and extended an inviting hand, a challenging smirk upon his face.
Before Sarah could respond, Aveline and Mizumi flanked her from either side.
"If you don't finish your song because of something frivolous as a dance, you won't prove yourself, now will you?" Mizumi asked. Aveline nodded. Sarah continued to sing.
"Let Sarah concentrate," Aveline said to Jareth, gentry yet firmly.
Jareth lowered his hand, but his eyes remained on Sarah, entranced. His mind was quiet, but his feelings reminded him why he had first fallen in love with this challenging, intriguing, and surprising human.
Sarah finished, and the silence of the orchestra's cadence echoed around the room. Before Sarah knew it, the entire ballroom had erupted into applause. Sarah blushed. The crowd closed in on her.
"What is this impressively delightful song you've just sung for us?" asked Aveline the Peaceful.
"It's not an invention of my own, but rather a popular song from my realm," said Sarah, leaving out the details of Mickey Mouse and cartoons. The applause continued once more, and Sarah dropped into a bashful curtsey.
"Yes, your voice was certainly…entrancing," commented Zayn, stepping forward and donning a condescending smile. Sarah didn't respond and stood tall. "Perhaps another dance for all your trouble?" he asked, extending a hand.
"Thank you, but no," Sarah responded, both her voice and smile sickly sweet in obvious farce.
Zayn's whole being tensed at yet the second refusal from a being he considered "merely" mortal. His feathers were visibly ruffled, but his voice came out strong if clipped.
"I demand a second dance. Why did you come to a ball if not to dance, Champion?"
"Stand down, venerable king," came a deep voice behind Zayn. The Witch King stepped to the side to reveal another masked figure—yet Sarah was sure of his identity; this was Placidus, Lord of the North. The tall, fair being stepped forward with a strong yet slender hand extended.
"You mustn't make a scene. This is just a social ball, after all."
The Lord of the North was taller and broader than both Jareth and Zayn. His robe was an icy blue rimmed with thick strips of tawny fur. The occasional splash of white in the light brown fur seemed almost like snow, adding an extra chill to his frosty presence. The robe lay open, revealing the bleached leather tunic underneath. Despite his simple attire, each and every hem was inconspicuously embroidered with silver. The shining white helmet he wore also masked the upper half of his face. In the middle of the helmet-mask's brow shone an uncut blue stone, perhaps lapis lazuli or azurite; something natural and bolder than a gemstone. A thick, white ponytail protruded through the back of the helmet, and it hung all the way past his waist, hitting midway down his thighs that Sarah could see were like tree trunks beneath his tan pants. The eyes of the helmet were covered by amber colored glass. Around his neck hung more unhewn stones and gems entwined in intricate, swirling silver chords. His thick fur boots were decorated in some kind of crystal or quartz, and the effect gave him the appearance of having walked through ice. He touched his helmet, and like Aveline had done before, his headdress shrunk in a flash of light, turning into an elegant eyeglass that reminded Sarah of snow goggles. The full panel of tinted glass that stretched across his brow and eyes provided full coverage, something Sarah was sure he needed in the snowy land of Norid.
"Stand down," he said again, soft as new fallen snow.
"No need for a magical ruler such as yourself to embarrass themself," Jareth said quietly, also closing in on the fuming Witch King.
Sarah marvelled at the Lord of the North and the Witch King; they seemed to be two sides of the same card. One so fair and pale, cloth and clothing bright and light, while the other was all darkness and shadow with practically funereal drapings. The chemistry between the two was electric, all at once brotherly yet competitive. Mirror images and yet so opposite. And between the two stood Jareth, dark yet flamboyant, ominous yet bright. Sarah regarded the Goblin King, standing there brazenly. He was possessive and at the same time protective; he was dangerous, yet Sarah felt she could befriend the cunning Fae, even if it would take time. Time and effort, and…well, more time.
Sarah didn't notice the bickering that continued on between the monarchs around her; she was caught looking at Jareth's seemingly marble-sculpted face and features. The delicate line of his lips seemed liquid as he continued to speak and rebuke the monarchs around him. He rolled his eyes, and somehow he still appeared regal despite the petulant action. Sarah stood in awe—but her awe shifted to the Lord of the North. He was so delicate, so cold. He was strong and hard as ice, yet at any moment Sarah thought her touch could melt him away; if she wouldn't melt him, he'd most certainly shatter, but cut her as he did. Sharp edges and soft-spoken, he was a conundrum of beauty and fear.
Sarah returned to reality, noticing he was probably not a Fae like Jareth. Perhaps he was some other sort of fair folk, an elf or the ice version of the watery naiad, but the magical aura he cast and his muscular build seemed too different from that of Jareth and Zayn. She remembered back to the many anecdotes she had read in that old book from the Labyrinth Castle library.
The Witch King's face was red with rage.
"Enough!" he declared, barely containing his shout.
"Enough what?" asked Jareth. "Enough nail polish?" The Goblin King sniggered as the Witch King looked from his nails to Jareth and back to his nails, indignant.
"Your mouth speaks because your magic does not. Right, Goblin King?" the Witch King sneered.
"Oh, my magic speaks for itself," Jareth purred. Sarah gasped; was that a challenge? A wide and wicked smile spread across the Witch King's face. Jareth turned to Sarah.
"Don't you worry your pretty head," he responded to her wide-eyed look of shock.
"But—"she said, stepping towards him.
"Now, now" he said, raising his hands to brace them against her shoulders. He gently pushed her backwards as he spoke.
"This will all be over soon, not to frett. He leaned in until his breath tickled her ear.
"Sorry that you have to see this side of me," he whispered. Sarah's heart was set aflutter, although she despised him nonetheless; she hated that he had this effect on her. The little hairs on her arms stood on end.
The crowd around them undulated, unsure whether to back away in fear or lean in and gawk.
Sarah felt a hand wrap around her arm. She wasn't sure at what point Aveline had situated herself next to her, but their host stood decidedly and firmly at her side.
"Magical duels are an old tradition in our realms. Usually invoked only by monarchs to handle disputes or even to finish ongoing wars that just won't come to an end…" Sarah gulped. There had been petty words and challenging airs, but she hadn't picked up on the full-out duel that was about to happen.
"This means of fighting is hardly used in our world anymore," Aveline continued. She reached back and fingered the shimmering comb in her hair. "But, there are still those who have the power—and the bravery, or perhaps chagrin, to invoke such a thing."
Aveline pulled Sarah further back into the crowd. Sarah tried to step away, but Aveline kept her hand firmly wrapped around Sarah's arm. Sarah wrinkled her brow and pouted her lip, but her expression quickly relaxed; Aveline stared at her intently.
"Do not fear me; I'm not like most other beings of this world." Sarah opened her mouth to ask what she meant, but was quickly cut off.
"Trust her," came a voice from her right. It was Mizumi, the beautiful and beguiling Mizumi. The blue tattoo or marking below the Fae's lip shimmered despite the low light. Sarah felt a blush spread its heat across her breast and cheek. The immediate attraction to this strange, otherworldly woman gave her pause; she would trust Aveline. If Mizumi said trust, she would trust. Aveline continued.
"The loser is often killed, but—"
"What?!" cried Sarah in disbelief. Killed? Duel like in an old Disney cartoon, or like, like in a war? What did she mean power and bravery and, and magical duel?
When Sarah looked back at Jareth, he was back to-back with Zayn. They began to walk, pacing away from each other. They reached ten paces and froze, neither moving. Their fingers twitched, as if uncast spells were itching their fingertips waiting to be cast. Then, Zayn spun around, hurling a purple fireball towards Jareth. It zinged through the air, hitting nothing; Jareth was now a small barn owl, flapping his wings and hovering already high in the air. The owl dove for the Witch King and slashed at his eyes with sharp talons. Zayn threw another fireball, catching Jareth by his wing. The owl plummeted towards the ground, turning into his Fae form before landing on his feet. Jareth cradled his right arm, blood visible from a gash beneath his smoking sleeve. Crystals, fireballs, bursts of magic flew around the room. Cries and gasps arose from the crowd who looked on, frozen in fear.
From the looks of things Jareth was losing; Jareth was losing, and Zayn was winning. The Witch King would triumph.
"Come on…" Sarah urged under her breath, unaware she had even cheered for her captor.
Jareth then turned into his owl form; and his owl form grew and grew until he was the monstrous form of an owl-bear. Jareth slashed at the Witch King with monstrous feathered claws, screeching at nearly glass-breaking decibels. Jareth lunged at Zayn, whose eyes were wide in shock. The screech pierced the air; Sarah braced herself for a fatal blow.
A roar returned the Goblin King's call.
Zayn had turned into a wurm, a snakey, wingless dragon with smooth black skin and razor-sharp teeth. The owl bear landed its lunge, and the bellowing wurm caught the beast's right wing in its jaws. The fight raged on. The dragon a chupacabra, the owl-bear a chimera, the beasts ever changing and ever stronger. Screeches, roars, animalistic cries that morphed and transposed through the octaves rang across the ballroom.
Zayn, back in his humanoid form, was beaten and bloodied. He stood strongly on one leg while the other dangled limply at his side.
Jareth morphed back into his own Fae form, but Zayn's blood was still dripping from his hands and smeared across his maw. The Goblin King smiled wide, a snarl more than an expression of happiness, reddened teeth bared to bite.
The loser is often killed… rang through Sarah's mind, and suddenly the sight of a murderous Jareth filled her with fear. A cold sweat broke on her forehead.
"Keep going. Come on…" Sarah begged silently.
Jareth lunged and landed a kick in the middle of Zayn's chest.
Sarah screamed.
Jareth strode to the laid-flat Witch King as various cries, gasps, and wails rang around the crowd.
"So, Witch King, not as strong as you thought? I suppose you should think twice before you disrespect a lady of the Goblin Castle."
Jareth looked at her, and Sarah's blood turned cold. Zayn lay there, chest heaving, staring daggers up at the Goblin King who now stood over him. Jareth raised his fist.
"No!" screamed Sarah.
A shocked cry rang through the crowd. Deafening silence followed as they all stared. Sarah ran towards the duel. She jumped in front of Zayn and landed on her knees, sliding the last few feet. She threw her arms wide, trying to block his broken body. A collective gasp rang like a whip around the room.
"Step aside," wisped the raspy voice of—surprisingly—the Witch King.
"No," said Sarah, her tear-filled eyes focused on the ground. "I didn't come all this way to see anyone killed."
Jareth scoffed.
"Or to see anyone killing." Silence fell across the room. Even Jareth stood silent, jaw clamped shut.
"This is barbaric," continued Sarah. "And unnecessary. Your Highness, you don't need to kill your enemy. You've already won; leave it at that." The crowd gasped at Sarah's brazen addressing of the dark and ominous monarch.
"Step…aside." This time the order came through the gritted teeth of the Goblin King.
"You don't know our ways. You don't know our rules." Jareth lowered his voice. "He knew the consequences."
"No. No, Jareth, he's really injured." Sarah knelt over Zayn and ripped off the hem of her dress. "Here, I think I can stop some of the bleeding." Snickers and high, cruel giggles jingled around the room. Sarah tied the band of cloth around Zayn's arm. She grunted as she ripped off another band of cloth and tied it around his thigh.
Another shadow appeared over her. The Lord of the North and the Goblin King stood over Sarah, staring in wonder at these meger yet meaningful acts.
"I will own this Champion," thought Placidus.
The Witch King's eyes flicked back and forth between Sarah and Jareth, burning with hate. "I will take this pure thing from the Goblin King," thought Zayn.
And yet Sarah paid them all no mind; her eyes were focused on the bandages she tied and adjusted. The male monarchs marveled at her, at her beauty and body and quick thinking.
While Mizumi marveled at her kindness. Her selflessness and care, her caring and—dare she say—loving nature. All eyes were on Sarah, but the monarchs' eyes were the strongest, most piercing looks that bore into Sarah like electric currents; yet, she ignored them, and looked up into the mismatched eyes of the Goblin King.
"Stop!" Zayn shouted—well, half-shouted half-grunted. He swatted her aside with an arm that was far too strong for his debilitated state, inhumanly strong. Sarah squealed as she tumbled over. Sarah swore she saw his cheeks flush pink as he climbed to his feet.
"Don't trouble yourself. Whether we lived or died was truly no concern of mine; I'm just interested in conjuring one of those crystals of his," smirked Zayn through a black eye.
"Stay out of this, human child," warned Placidus, his voice cold yet somehow comforting. Sarah knew the warmth in his voice was fake, but somehow she sensed the pity was genuine. Before Sarah could respond, Jareth yanked her to her feet.
"Hey!" she cried out.
"Thank you, Aveline the Peaceful. Thank you for your hospitality, but we really must be going." Groans echoed across the ballroom, groans of disappointment—as if a parent had turned off their favorite TV program rather than someone, only moments before they'd walked through death's door, announced their leave.
Jareth stood there, his iron grip on Sarah's arm and his steely gaze pointed at Aveline. Placidus, Zayn, and Mizumi all stood on the balls of their feet, leaning forward, as if they wanted to stop him yet dared not to. Aveline stood between Zayn and Placidus, unknowingly placing herself as the symbolic mediator, while Mizumi stood in the back out of the line of fire, her fan opened in front of her face as she peered over its aquamarine edge. She was ready to pounce, ready to jump, ready to save… Jareth or Sarah she didn't know, but she'd let her heart decide in the moment.
Sarah tried to wrench her arm from Jareth's grip, but he held her tight. Zayn interrupted the stunned silence that oppressed the room.
"Does Sarah want to leave? Did you ask her? Sarah, dear…?"
"What in the world are you going on about, old man?" sighed Jareth.
"Nothing. Nothing at all. I won't challenge you unless provoked…" said Zayn. "And your actions are, if not outright, provoking."
The Witch King drew a flask from his belt and poured its onyx contents onto the floor. A small cloud of black smoke billowed up from the tar-like puddle into the Witch King's hand. It remained there as tiny lightning strikes bounced around the hand-held storm.
"That is not necessary," countered Sarah, sure the Goblin King wouldn't survive another round. "We should leave. After all, my attire is no longer presentable." Sarah looked down at her ripped dress then looked back into the narrowed eyes of the Witch King. Before either one of them could make further comment, Aveline closed in on her.
"Don't you worry about him; he—and Jareth—will most certainly recover." As she spoke, ravens and crows were already descending upon the Witch King. Before Sarah could say goodbye to their host, Jareth was dragging her away. She was pulled past the icy eyes of the Lord of the North, through the front door, and tossed into their carriage without a word.
"Well, that's one way to make an exit," Sarah harumphed, crossing her arms across her chest and slumping back against the cabernet upholstery. "Did we really need to leave so abruptly?" Sarah asked.
"Yes, yes we did," Jareth answered without explanation. He wiped blood away from a cut on his lip.
"You know, I was fine on my own. You didn't need to intervene."
"I most certainly did! And what did I say about talking to the other monarchs?"
"Well, I didn't mean to talk to them. And you never mentioned anything about that Abigail or whatever her name is."
"Aveline. And trust me; we were just as shocked as you to see her." Jareth settled back into contemplated silence; Sarah didn't want to let him retreat.
"Well, even if you didn't expect her, a warning would've been nice."
"You know, I actually agree with you. But, would that I could've, would that I could've, pet." He recrossed his legs and arms and turned his head from Sarah. His sleeves were crusted with dried, blackish blood.
They both sat facing away from each other in steamy silence.
"And you shouldn't have interfered with the duel," grumbled Jareth.
"Oh, what was that?" Sarah asked, biting.
"You heard me," Jareth grumbled again in a subdued voice. He suddenly shouted. "And you should've heeded my warnings!"
"Would that I could've, would that I could've!" Sarah shouted back.
"If you didn't disappear on me, maybe I never would've run into him in the first place. And besides, you would've killed him! He could've killed you!" Sarah leaned back and curled into herself with this last remark. She hated to admit she had protected both the impertinent Witch King and him, her captor, in those dire moments that her heart had spoken instead of her head.
The ride back felt longer than the ride there under their angry silence. When their carriage pulled up to the Castle at the Center of the Labyrinth, the door of the magical coach opened once more on its own, and before Jareth could escort Sarah through the carriage door, she launched herself out onto the cobblestone courtyard. Her legs wobbled under her fast egress, but she was glad she hadn't accepted any help of his. Her chest heaved in anger and frustration, her mind still processing everything that has just happened.
"And where do you think you're going?" Jareth asked, following her as she stomped back to the castle.
"Away from you, I think we've had enough of each other for one night," Sarah grumbled behind her, plunging onward towards the castle door.
"I'm quite fine! I like the company!" He called after her, forcing a jovial bravado into his voicee.
Sarah huffed and passed through the front doors without looking back. She trekked on towards her room, taking the nearest staircase she could find.
"I would've had a nice time if it wasn't for you. You're the one who got us separated, and you're the one who heated the situation," she muttered to herself. Much to her dismay, the Goblin King was close behind, despite his injuries.
"Oh, you didn't have a nice time? I wonder why that was? Maybe because you didn't heed my warnings!"
"Well it's not like everyone was wearing a name tag!" Sarah spun around and screamed at him. Before he could reply she ducked down a hallway and sprinted on ahead, taking the first left she could find. She leaned against a wall and huffed, trying to catch her breath; no Goblin King. It appeared she had lost him, so she continued on before doubling back to take another staircase that led to her room. She burst through her door, muttering all the while, and slammed the door shut behind her.
"I suppose you think you can lose me in my own castle?" Sarah whipped around to find Jareth standing there with his arms crossed.
"I see someone has had the luxury of changing already. Must be nice," Sarah spat. All visible signs of the previous fight were gone. He once more wore the outfit he had worn in the Escher room. His wine-red sleeves looked almost black in the dim light. The front of his black leather vest was molded to look like exposed human ribs; at first glance, one might mistake it for Victorian ruffling. The Goblin King always kept you looking.
"It is nice, in fact," he teased, his high-heeled boots clacking along the floor as he stepped towards her. Dellacora hovered nervously above the magical chest, biting at her nails and looking back and forth between the quarrelling pair.
"Jareth, just leave me alone! I don't see why you had to cause trouble at the ball. I was fine."
"Ha! Me cause trouble?!" Jareth gestured to himself dramatically and leaned back on his heels, letting out another forced laugh. "I think you need to re-examine the situation."
"I don't need to re-examine anything! I don't even fully understand what just happened. Everything was so quick and so fast, I didn't get to enjoy the ball at all, and you had to go get into a fight where someone almost died!" If Sarah had had something in her hand, she would've thrown it at him.
"Maybe I would've shown mercy. Maybe I was faking the final blow."
Sarah scoffed and didn't even indulge that comment with a reply. She pushed past Jareth and plopped down on her bed. "Why don't you get out of here?"
He walked up to her and tried to take her chin in his hand. She swatted his arm away. He stared down at her and tried once more, but she again swatted his arm away. The third time she swatted at him, he caught her wrist in his hand and held it tight. She tried to pull it away, but he held it fast. She glared up at him and bared her teeth as she gritted them in fury.
"I'll go when I want. And I need to tell you again; don't meddle with the other monarchs. Including Aveline."
Sarah stilled her anger and instead fed her curiosity. "Who was she anyway?"
"That's a long story. But she is older and certainly wiser than all of us. She remains politically neutral and refuses to take sides or even get involved in quarrels or wars or any type of dispute."
Jareth fell silent, but Sarah could tell by his furrowed brow his thoughts raged on.
"Everyone looked shocked, but you looked…confused."
"Concerned," Jareth corrected. "She is never one for pomp and circumstance; she was hiding behind all the glitter and fluff. What she was hiding, I don't know. But it's not like her."
"Well," said Sarah, successfully pulling her hand from Jareth's grasp, "why don't you ask her. Starting a conversation would've been better than starting a duel, don't you think?" Sarah stood.
Jareth sighed. "Whether today or tomorrow, now or later, one of them would've started something. Which is why I said steer clear. Zayn and Placidus, and Mizumi for that matter, are never up to any good. Between personal and political motivations, there's always trouble afoot. I don't need you feeding the fire."
Jareth sighed again. They stood there in silence, Jareth staring at the ground and Sarah gazing directly in her eyes, biting her cheek and challenging him to get closer, to try her again.
"Goodnight, your majesty," Sarah said firmly.
Jareth's eyes flicked up to meet her own.
"Goodnight, Sarah."
With that, he turned and left through the door. Sarah hadn't seen any visible signs of the fight, but his tired egress made her wonder if he felt the magical effects on the inside.
Dellacora buzzed up to Sarah's face, causing Sarah to smile.
"Hello again. It was quite a day. I'll try not to blow off steam as I tell you about it…" She held out her hand, which Della landed on. The little fairy flopped onto her stomach and propped her chin up on her hands. She blinked her eyes innocently and grinned with almost childlike expectancy up at Sarah. Sarah laughed. "Alright alright, let me get settled into bed, then you'll get all the juicy details of tonight."
(AN) Author's Notes:
* The partial song Sarah Sings When You Wish Upon a Star Performed by Ashley Gearing from Disneymania 2 Cd.
* The goblin king and witch kings duel/or duke out was mostly inspired by the magical wizard's duel that happened between Merlin and Madam Mim in the 1963 Disney animated film The Sword in the Stone. Although the magical duels/ standoffs that happened at least in this world where Jareth and the others are from are a little bit more deadly and hardcore one could say.
* I'll give a little future spoiler on what going to happen with the other two males Oc's the witch king & The Lord of the North. Besides Jareth, Sarah's going to have at least two more admirers who will slowly start to fall in love with her one-sidedly. You could say that the goblin king's going to soon have some potential love rivals for Sarah's affections (^^).
I don't have much else to say. I look forward to any comments keep your eyes peeled I might have the energy to post one more new chapter for everyone to enjoy and read.
TTFN,
smcandy