Even when she was turning the key in the door to her apartment, Sarah kept singing. She burst open the door and threw her arms wide, her thin black silk wrap parachuted to the floor, “I got it!” She cried, “I got the part.” No one was home to hear her. No one came running from the bedroom to say congratulations. No one peeked over the refrigerator door ready to ask more questions about the show. Her arms fell to her sides. From the door a cool draft blew in and it reminded her two things: her wrap had fallen, and she had forgotten to shut the door behind her. She turned around bending to snatch up the black silk, instead black leather met her eyes. Two black leather loafers to be exact, each peaking out from under a grey herringbone pant leg. Her eyes followed the pant leg to a matching jacket and let out a tiny gasp as she saw Jeremy standing in the doorway, her throw pinched in the fingers of his outstretched hand.
“Congratulations,” he told her cocking an eyebrow and offering her the wrap.
Sarah grabbed it from his hand, doing a double take at his glove. “Jeremy? You followed me! Listen, if this is some ploy to steal me away from Stuart now that I’ve got the part, I should warn you, I have no intention of leaving him when he’s done so much for me.”
“I’m not here because I want to be your agent, Sarah.”
She blinked when she heard him speak her name. “Well if you think stalking a woman is some fabulous new pick up technique, you’re wrong.”
Jareth looked at her cockeyed, “Pick up technique?”
“Listen buster all I have to do is let out a scream and the my neighbors will call the cops so fast, you won’t make it to the elevators.”
She was remarkably spirited the Goblin King noted as he shut the door behind him, “You’re not going to scream and you know it.” With arrogance to spare he leaned into her, practically nose to nose and forced her to spin as he took wide strides leading himself deeper into her living area. “You’re too fascinated by my familiarity to get rid of me before you figure it out.”
“I knew it. I recognized you back at the theater.”
“And so you did.” Jareth sat on one of the breakfast stools and leaned his elbows on the table behind him. “Now it seems you just cannot put a name to the face.” He grinned baring his jagged teeth.
Sarah looked at him for a long minute in complete silence, those eyes, that grin, something in the way he carried himself, the way he seemed to drape across the furniture. She closed in on him. Jareth watched her. If it were possible, she seemed even more beautiful now, away from all the tinted lights and judging eyes that were back at the theater. What had once been a spoiled and selfish little girl had grown into a wildly enticing woman. She moved toward him with such amazing grace that he couldn’t help jerking his brow with approval. Head held high, Sarah led each step with her hip making her body seemingly glide. Once or twice the Goblin King thought he should check to see if her feet were touching the ground but he wasn’t foolish enough to waste these moments looking at her feet. Instead he wondered if beneath the pinned up ringlets on her head there was still that long flowing black waterfall he had dared to touch so many years ago as they danced.
“Don’t play games with me,” Sarah said as she stood in front of Jareth her hand raised as though she were preparing to slap the dopey grin off his face if he didn’t remove it himself.
A gloved hand wrapped around her wrist. “Until tonight I feared someone may have managed to quelch your magic, love, but it thrills me to find no one has put your fire out.” Never breaking their stare, he drew her hand close to his mouth and kissed her palm.
Something inside her began to swim. Her heart was racing and she’d forgotten how to breath. Why wasn’t she pulling away from this freak? Or running to lock herself in the bedroom until the police came? “What do you mean magic?” Sarah managed to stutter eventually.
“You,” Jareth pulled her by the wrist until she was between his knees. “Tonight,” he purred reaching up with his free hand to undo the pins from her hair. “You were pure mortal magic,” the Goblin King stopped what he was saying to take her in as the curls began framing her porcelain face. Green eyes seemed to see through him. Releasing her wrist, Jareth put both hands around her waist, one gloved palm to either side of her unveiled spine. Weak in the knees from the sensation of him touching her, Sarah grabbed at his neck with the hand Jareth had just set free. Shorter than it had been, the hair at the back of his head was still long enough to poke out from between Sarah’s finger tips as she worked her hand in his golden locks. The mighty Goblin King had not intended for this to happen. He wanted to find his mortal, take back his magic, perhaps torment her a bit. After all, she’d have no idea that the Triumvirate had forbid him his powers. Instead he found himself in awe of this woman. Curious for the feel of her. Hungry for the taste of her. Jareth brushed Sarah’s hair away from her shoulder and placed a series of tender kisses along her artery. A heavy sigh escaped her throat before she bit down on her lower lip to keep any more from breaking loose.
‘What the hell are you doing?’ she caught herself wondering. ‘You barely know this guy.’ While that were true, it had been a long time since her body felt like it did right now. She caught herself looking down to make certain that her legs actually existed beneath her knees. ‘Still standing,’ she thought. Jagged teeth nipped at her tender flesh and she fell into him. Sarah felt his lips smile against her neck. Jareth pulled back his head to meet her eyes, but they were closed. There was something terribly innocent about her face. Years of anger melted away as with incredible delicacy he lay his lips upon each eyelid, then her nose. She opened her eyes and her lips parted intent on telling him to stop. The Goblin King gave her little chance to say anything as his warm lips covered hers. At first Sarah was too stunned to do anything. She stood there, now relying on him for practically all the support that kept her from crashing to the floor. His mouth was sweet and his lips worked at hers like a light breeze without being prodding or demanding as, as, ‘Damn it, that guy, the one she lived with,’ Sarah caught her self asking, ‘what was his name?’
Even if she felt distracted, it hadn’t deterred Jareth in the least. He continued kissing her, his tongue sliding over her lip every now and again. Suddenly the name that eluded her didn’t matter. The name of the man who was making her body behave this way didn’t matter. This kiss became everything. It forced her to react, kissing him back, opening her mouth begging him to deepen their connection. She waited patiently for what seemed like minutes. Through being teased, Sarah brought her palms to his jaw line and pulled him to her taking the initiative to open his stubborn lips with her own tongue. Jareth rose his eyebrows and conceded. He didn’t mind losing to his mortal when this was the battle they waged. His hands balled into fists at the small of her back, frustrated by the fact there was no fabric there for them to grasp.
Jareth was suddenly very grateful that Tony had taken him to get this suit. The loose fitting cotton blend hid what his tights would not. Sarah was aware too that they were no longer two strangers sharing one innocent kiss. The chemistry between them was escalating to an unstoppable passion she would regret in the morning. As if he sensed her hesitation to continue, Jareth worked his way back to her neck. His tongue swirled over the sensitive spots at her collar bone as his nose filled with the vanilla scent from her perfume. “Sarah,” he moaned into her neck while his hands stroked the flesh near the back-line of her dress.
“Jareth,” she sighed back. In that moment it was if all timed had stopped. The Goblin King’s lips stilled their fevered kisses. Sarah could feel her legs again, in fact, they’d turned to stone. For him, he had heard her call his name for the first time and he was amazed at the sound of it as it fell from her perfect mouth. For Sarah, it was the similarity to a dream she’d had not that long ago. Pushing him back by the shoulders, she stared into his mismatched eyes. Trembling fingers reached for his lips, the soft tissue tasting her as she pulled them over his mouth, “You’re real.” Her hand settled over his chest where his heart was beating wildly. “What happened to you?”
“What do you mean what happened to me?” Jareth asked a little hurt.
“Your clothes,” she said. “Your hair. You’ve cut your beautiful hair.” Her fingers danced through the thick waves on the top of his head. It had seamed so straight to her before now. But without all that length to drag it down, his mop was tosselled with curls. Cut close on the sides and combed back it seemed to thin his face making his cheek bones seem even fuller and his face more gaunt.
“You haven’t changed a bit,” he kissed her again this time quickly, as if he were afraid, now that she knew him, she’d run away if he pushed too hard, “except to grow more beautiful.” The back of his gloved hand caressed her cheek and she leaned into his touch. For fifteen years Sarah fought back the feelings she had for this man. Hatred. Curiosity. Whatever you might call what she was experiencing right now. A dozen or more times she’d tried to call him. Tried to summon him back to her. Tears stained the grey fabric that covered his hands.
“Why didn’t you come when I called to you?” she asked him, trying hard not to sob.
“I couldn’t,” he answered honestly hoping she wouldn’t pursue this any further.
Sarah narrowed her eyes, “I called you so many times. I convinced myself I imagined you. Damn you!” she shouted trying to twist and turn from his arms. Jareth only held her tighter. She managed to wiggle around so that she no longer faced him. Her movement forced him to stand and spoon himself behind her. “Sarah,” he whispered in her ear, “there was never a time you called that I didn’t pray I could have come. Every time you asked, my soul wanted to respond. The pain of it as it tried to tear itself from my body was indescribable.” Her body went limp in his arms and he compensated for her loss in stability by further tightening his hold. The Goblin King nuzzled her with his head. Soft locks brushed against her cheek and neck. Jareth’s lips replaced his hair. “You told me I had no power over you, Sarah. Which meant that until you admitted once more that I did, my magic was powerless when it came to you.”
‘Jesus,’ she thought, ‘if seeing me like this isn’t a blatant confession that you do have some sort of power over me then what is.’ Jareth filled the silence with the sound of his lips against her flesh. He traced her spine with his tongue, slowly down to her tail bone, where her dress stopped him from going any further. With an even more torturous deliberateness he wound his way back to her neck, letting her silky black curls engulf his face as he searched for those spots he’d only too easily found moments earlier. Sarah was furious. Furious that he seemed to blame her for not being there when she wanted him, but it seemed not to matter when she wanted him so much now. “Guess I was a bit spontaneous in my youth,” she told him as she twisted in his grip to face him once again. Her eyes pleaded with him to alter time the way he had once. She wanted to go back to before life had become so complicated.
Smoothing back the hair that had made it’s way into her eyes, Jareth spoke to her in that same melodic calm he always had. Sarah’s eyes went wide as a new rendition of an old soliloquy filed her ears. “Through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered, I have fought my way here,” he emphasized, “to this apartment within the New York City, to take back the heart you have stolen. For my will is as strong as yours and my love is as great. You hold all the power over me.” His head threw back a bit as he stressed all and he smiled at his own cleverness. Sarah couldn’t help thinking what a handsome smile he had. Those pointed teeth making him seem seductively devilish.
Maybe it was time that had changed her or the poetry of the words he had spoken. Perhaps it was the way his mouth seemed perpetually pursed as though he were constantly waiting to kiss or be kissed by someone. Sarah leaned into him once more, claiming his lips for her pleasure. Her trembling hands worked at the knotted silk around his throat until the fabric came free. It was easier for Jareth to breath once Sarah managed to undo the top button of the collar. With a replenished supply of oxygen at his demand, his hands covered her exposed rib cage and brought her more tightly to him, kissing her with a renewed vigor. More of his buttons slipped out of the holes in his shirt. Sarah’s fingers nimbly removed his jacket and draped it over one of the stools. Through the thin fabric of his shirt, he felt defined without being bulky. On an agenda all their own, Sarah’s hands slid inside his shirt and smoothed over his pale skin. The Goblin King’s heightened fey sensitivities were bringing him closer to the point of no return at the touch of her satiny fingertips slipping over his skin. Even the cool silver amulet around his neck had grown warm lying against his chest.
Jareth fought the urge to scoop up his mortal and carry her off to somewhere he could lie her down and love her properly. He undid the clasp that joined her shoulder strap from back to front and massaged her scapula with his mouth and lips. When Sarah gasped and pulled away, he realized that he must have been using his teeth as well. “Sorry, love,” he told her as he blew over the skin he’d just bruised. He might as well have blown fire across her skin, making her sweat in the most unusual places.
Thoughts of her mortal world seemed to fade. Eponine no longer mattered. Christian and whatever it was they were supposed to discuss tonight was irrelevant. Sarah was alive in the here and now and her one true love had crossed worldly boundaries to pledge his love for her. “I shouldn’t have said those things to you,” she whispered in his ear.
“What’s said is said. You were trying to get Toby back,” he reassured her.
‘Lot of good that’s done me,’ she recalled. They hadn’t spoken since Sarah had left for Julliard. Sarah’s hands folded over the collar of Jareth’s half undone shirt. Timidly she guided him to the couch where he had plagued a week’s worth of restless nights. “I was too young to love you then,” Sarah told him as they sat simultaneously.
“And now?” he couldn’t help asking. He wanted this, wanted her. Suddenly his magic wasn’t the only thing on his mind. The words of the Triumvirate didn’t ring in his ears. Only Sarah’s sweet voice speaking his name. The Goblin King replayed it again and again as he waited for her answer to his provocative inquiry.
Green eyes met with his mismatched blues, “I am no longer young.” She kissed him once more, innocently at first. Sarah wasn’t used to being the aggressor, but something about him empowered her. Jareth winced knowing that the real differences in their ages was far greater than she realized. Why in the Underground, Sarah would still be considered a baby. Well, still a minor. Jareth pushed all that aside to focus on returning her kiss. He carefully guided her back to the cushions beneath her. In truth, she put up little resistance to his brazen advance. Encouraged by his aggression, she strengthened the pressure being applied by her lips and tongue. Her teeth chewing gently at his lower lip. Eagerly she tore at his shirt, untucking it from his waist band and rushing her hands inside. Jareth repositioned his amulet so that it set on his back. It was heavy and he didn’t want it swinging around and hurting the beautiful woman below him. Beneath the weight of him, it was easy to feel his readiness to have her. For the first time in as long as Sarah could remember she wanted a man, but only if that man was Jareth, King of the Goblins.
For a moment, he stopped their frenzied attack on one another’s mouths and stared into her eyes. It crossed his mind for a moment that she could have been toying with him. She had been cruel once. Inside her enlarged blackened pupils he saw only confusion. Confusion for how he could break away from their embrace, when to Sarah, at that moment her very survival was dependant on not losing contact with him. He couldn’t ask her now, the time was all wrong. There were more important things to be said. “I have always loved you,” he told her as she watched his mouth form the words, still eager for it to find so many other places on her body. Sarah had no clue how or if to respond. Did he expect to hear her say she loved him too? She obviously wanted him. Wasn’t that enough for right now? While she worried what to say, the Goblin King skillfully undid the clasp on the other strap of her dress. A few more touches of his lips to her neck and the fabric had found it’s way into his teeth as he peeled it back slowly, taking in the magnificence of her breasts. Jareth moved to cover one sensitive nipple with his mouth as he massaged the other breast with his long fingers. The fabric of his glove and soft pressure from his teeth thrilled Sarah and she rose her hips toward him, pressing into his erection.
The turning of the doorknob stung them like a cold rain. Jareth pulled back from his radiant mortal, a healthy blush obvious on his pale cheeks. Sarah’s fingers worked to rejoin the straps of her dress almost as eagerly as they had undone the Goblin King’s stunning attire. Before either of them could fully complete their objective, Christian shouted, “What the hell are you doing?” He was furious with Sarah and given he walked in on her half undressed, covered by a strange man, he felt he had the right to be. “He your producer? Audition not quite done?” he raged.
“No, no,” Sarah repeated. She couldn’t bring herself to meet his accusing eyes. Her cheeks were still flushed with passion and although she was painfully aware of the coolness that swept over her where Jareth’s body had been, she was still warm with the thought of what he had done to her. The Goblin King reworked the buttons of his shirt. Sarah, satisfied that she had rejoined enough of the straps to keep her bosoms from being exposed, stood before Christian, head cast down, matted strands blocking her eyes from his.
Brutally he shoved her head back, his thumb and forefinger squeezing her chin. “Save your lies you tramp and to think, I was going to take you back.”
Tears coursed over her cheeks smearing what remained of her make up. Jareth grew infuriated with what Christian was doing, what Christian always did. “See here then,” the Goblin King called him, “seems to me you ought wonder more about what you didn’t do that has caused her to go and do what she’s done.” He stepped between them. Fastening the last of the cuff buttons, he glared down at Christian with contempt and hatred. What an awful moment to be without his magic. “I’ve wanted to meet you for quite sometime Christian.”
“How does he know my name Sarah?”
“This is your suitor?” Jareth asked Sarah with great disbelief.
“What does he mean suitor?”
“You will address me and me only. Consider her invisible the way you always have.” Jareth spat at him.
A mortal fist met the outside of Jareth’s left temple causing him to catch his head in his hands. Blood poured from his broken skin and ran toward his jaw. Sarah gasped and reached for him. The Goblin King was on his knees and the foolish girl covered him with her own body. Christian grabbed the open back of her dress and tossed her aside, ripping the strap and forcing her to become exposed once more. The doubled over fey growled like a wounded animal backed into a corner. The promises he made the Triumvirate were long since forgotten as he rose to his feet and buried a fist deep into the mortal’s rib cage as he did so. “Pity is Christian,” he started to say, but paused to block an incoming blow from his opponent, “I didn’t come prepared for a formal fight.” A second fist came thundering into Christian’s face. “I’m more a swordsman myself.” By the third hit, Jareth was holding the mortal by the shoulder keeping him from sliding to the floor out of exhaustion. “Not that I mind a good hand to hand now or then, but I feel like I’ve let you down not giving you my best performance.” A final blow and the Goblin King let him slide to the floor in a heap.
Sarah was balled in the corner sobbing. How was it even possible to ride such a roller coaster of emotions so quickly. She’d let Jareth control her and after she swore that would never happen again. The fey’s glove reached to palm her streaked face. “Sarah,” he whispered. “Are you alright?”
“Do I look alright?” she fired back at him. “Why, Jareth, why did you come here after all these years, and none of your bullshit about how much you loved me!”
He winced. It was a tougher blow than the one he’d taken from her companion only minutes earlier, “I do love you Sarah. I have always loved you. That was not a lie.”
“You’ve never done anything for no reason. What was your reason for loving me?”
Damned if he could answer that. It was a question he had asked himself a million times, but answers never came. “I had no choice in loving you.”
Part of her wanted to crawl into his arms, the way he stooped before her, seemingly sincere. Fresh blood still running from the gash on his head. The rest of her didn’t buy his poetic words any longer. He’d reeked havoc on her life for his own satisfaction, “What have you come to take from me this time?”
Wishing she’d have just slapped him, Jareth gave in. It was all he could stand to see the passion in her eyes replaced with disgust. “I came to ask you to take back your words Sarah, to permit me power over you again so that my magic would be restored to whole. I’ve come to take back what I gave you fifteen years ago when I first fell in love with you.”
“Were you going to wait until after we did it?” she said between clenched teeth. “You think you can just come in here once I’d grown to love you and seduce me into giving it all back. The only thing that made me feel alive and you’ve come to steal it away with a kiss and whatever else you could get!” He said nothing as his head wagged back and forth at her gross misunderstanding. “Get out Jareth.”
“Sarah, please.”
“Leave.”
“Let me explain.”
She stood before him defiantly, “I do not wish to hear your explanations Goblin King. I wish...”
“Careful what you say Sarah,” he hissed lifting himself to meet her steely eyes.
“I wish you’d go away, back to the Underground,”
“Sarah don’t, you don’t understand what your capable of.”
“And never visit me again.”
Jareth’s eyes were dark and sad, set on his one true love, as the fabric of time wrinkled and swallowed him whole.
Sarah sunk to her knees again. What had she just done? Where had he gone? Could it be that even after all these years she had to mature she was still that spontaneous child who spoke first and thought afterwards. Right now it seemed that way. She’d wished him away as easily as she’d offered up her little brother in a time when they had failed to compliment one another. The chill she felt without his arms around her earlier paled in comparison to the cold that ravaged her now.
***** ***** *****
Hours later, on the other side of the apartment, Christian was coming to. Moaning and grunting preceded his actually getting up to make his way to the bathroom. He snorted as he walked by Sarah, still curled up on the floor crying. Mirrors were truthful if not kind and that fellow from the prior evening had done a number on him undoubtedly. Wincing and sucking air through his teeth, Christian set about to cleaning his wounds. Every breath made his chest ache more. “Probably broke my rib,” he said pressing the tender area with his fingers. “You oughtta get cleaned up too.” Christian said to Sarah when he reappeared beside her in the living room. He tossed the blood covered hand towel at her and kept walking.
Sarah threw the disgusting thing aside. Her shoulders were sore from the way he’d grabbed her so roughly. Once on her feet, she stepped into the bedroom and slammed the door behind her. Before the dressing table she watched as her beautiful dress hit the floor. ‘How did all this happen?’ she thought as she looked at the woman in the mirror. With the help of a cotton ball, Sarah wiped away the streaks of mascara and eyeliner. Laughing at herself, she couldn’t help but draw the connection between her make up and Jareth’s usual theatrical flair. What had happened to him last night? When she saw Jeremy he intrigued her, true. Once she kissed Jareth, it was the long blonde hair her hands reached out for. The first time her eyes opened she expected the flamboyant earth tones that made his mismatched eyes all the more captivating. She had to admit those fancy buttons on that dress shirt had frustrated the hell out of her, when it should have been a plunging neckline of a painter’s shirt giving her the access she had pawed for. “Argh,” she grunted throwing the cotton ball into the wastebasket.
Redressed in jeans and a sweat shirt, she brushed her hair until it was tangle free and shone. The ends of a few ringlets brushed her face and Jareth’s hands were manipulating her memory. More hurriedly she hiked her mane into a ponytail. Sarah rejoined Christian in the living room. He noticed her blush, it lit her face the same way he had found her last night. “Who was he?” Christian asked with a little more calm than she was used to him exhibiting.
How would you describe Jareth to someone? How did you explain what kind of relationship the two of you had? ‘Well,’ the truth rummaged around in Sarah’s mind, ‘it’s kinda like this. He came and stole my baby brother. I went to his Labyrinth to get my brother back and ended up with this huge adolescent crush on the Goblin King. Too young to know what to do about repressed sexual tension, I waited fifteen years for him to find me again, then jumped him in the living room like a horny girl on prom night.’ Probably not the best explanation she could give. Besides, it wasn’t the whole truth. Jareth had been uncharacteristically tender with her. His touch was light and passionate. He could have just as easily forced himself upon her the instant he’d gotten into the apartment. “It’s difficult,” she told him.
“Difficult Sarah? What were you drunk or something? How can it be difficult to tell me who this guy was?”
“I’ve known him since I was a kid Christian. When I saw him again it just, I don’t know, it stirred up some old emotions.”
“When you were a kid? How old a kid? Christ he looks like he’s forty something! What did he baby-sit you?” He was certainly acting jealous for someone who typically seemed unconcerned with whether or not anyone else noticed Sarah.
“I was fifteen,” she admitted.
“So he was like thirty! That’s pretty fucking sick if you ask me.”
“I don’t know how old he was,” she cried, finally finding her resolve again. If only they knew just how old Jareth was. “And no one did ask you!”
Christian sat next to her on the couch, not wanting another confrontation. His arm slid around her shoulder and he kissed her hair. “It’s okay Sarah. I’ve decided to forgive you.”
His kisses no longer thrilled her and they hadn’t in awhile Next to Jareth’s, Christian’s lips felt like stone. Her mouth hung open. Her eyes blazed wide. “You forgive me.” Sarah bent back the fingers of her right hand as she pressed them off her chest. “You forgive me,” she chuckled. “Day in, day out you come and go as you chose. You show up late for meals I spend all day preparing. You share about as much of yourself with me as you do with the Main Street grocer and you’re forgiving me!” She left the couch and stormed into the kitchen. At the counter she poured a glass of juice. A gulp rejuvenate her dried throat. The glass met with the breakfast table and Sarah was ready to continue her outburst. Her mouth opened, but no words came forth. Instead her hands reached out for the jacket Jareth had left behind. In her head she remembered sliding it from his shoulders and placing it aside. Beneath her nose, the garment stilled smelled like him. Not like his cologne. Not like shampoo or soap. A raw ethereal scent that was him and him alone. Sarah folded the jacket over her arm and smoothed it down. A lump in the pocket caught he attention. Her small hand withdrew one of his crystals from the pocket.
Another flashback came to mind, one from her far past. ‘It’s a crystal, nothing more, but if you turn it this way and look into it, it’ll show you your dreams.’
She rolled the orb in her palm and peered into it. Sarah was beguiled by the images that presented themselves to her. The Jareth she had faced the night before draped himself in his throne and melted into the Jareth she knew from long ago. He reached to his side, smiling, grasping something just outside of what the crystal was showing her. He pulled a woman in a full white gown to him. She landed in his lap with a shy giggle. His black leather glove lifted her chin so that he could bring his lips to hers in a passionate exchange. When their kiss was broken Sarah gasped. It was her she saw in the elaborate dress in the lap of the Goblin King. She held the crystal tightly, “On second thought Christian, I do need to be forgiven.”
He sauntered over to her full of himself thinking she had finally seen the light. Sarah met his pompous eyes with her own determined ones, “I sent away the wrong man last night.” Now it was his mouth that fell open. With nothing but the crystal she stormed out, pausing briefly at the door to remind him he was supposed to be gone by the end of tomorrow. She held her head higher as she walked to rehearsals that day.
***** ***** *****
Before the curious eye of the Triumvirate, Jareth lay sprawled face down, “Ah, God, don’t you guys ever work on the landings?” he said grabbing at the cut on his head which threatened to break back opened any second.
It was the Gavel who spoke to him first, “So Goblin King, you have failed.”
“So I have,” Jareth seemed to accept it as he forced himself up on one knee.
“New suit, new hair, new shoes?” the Sage questioned eager to get his digs in. “Aren’t we precious?”
Jareth stayed perfectly still on his knee and awaited his judgment.
“The mortal has not only refused to return your magic, but if I’m not mistaken, you professed your love for her again, leaving her with an even a bigger part of yourself.”
It was true. Jareth could feel it happening when they kissed. His fey self was mixing with Sarah yet again. Fifteen years ago, he’d loved her with just his eyes and she grew powerful enough for glamours and to call upon her friends. This day he had loved her with his mouth and whether she knew it or not, she was powerful enough to cast now. She’d cast him back to the Underground that was for damn sure. “I accept my fate,” he said wanting to crawl back to his castle where he could sulk in peace. Why couldn’t she have wished the whole thing never happened? Then he’d be back where he started, begging the Triumvirate for a chance to face her. More importantly, he wouldn’t still have the taste of her on his lips. His hands wouldn’t remember the soft warm feel of her. Better still she could have wished they’d never met and he could start over again, before he even knew her name.
“I don’t think you’ve even begun to realize your fate king,” the Gavel spat down at him through a wicked sneer.
Jareth met the eyes of the Cleric revealing a pleading for some mercy. “Pity sake’s Gavel,” the holy fey began, “the king is hurt. He needs to seek the comfort of a healer. Pass your ruling and send him on his way.”
“As you wish brother,” the Gavel told him. “Jareth, King of the Goblins, insomuch as we have done as you asked and you have failed to complete the task you were assigned, we hereby sentence your magic defunct upon mortals and limit your travels to the Aboveground to those visits which directly relate to the collection of children.” His mallet thundered off the arm of his throne. Jareth winced a bit.
“Let us send you home,” the Cleric offered.
Jareth rose, “Not necessary, I can manage for myself.” The king materialized one of his crystals and cast himself to his bed chambers.
The Cleric remained behind as the Gavel and the Sage left the great hall whispering between themselves at Jareth’s expense. He looked into a gazing ball that served as a decorative piece in the corner by the entry way. His eyes clouded with what he saw and his hands moved to bless himself, “I fear we have lost him this time,” he spoke aloud to no one in particular. “The only one who can save Jareth now, is Jareth.”
***** ***** *****
Rubber soles made no sound as they traversed the aisle of the theater to join the rest of the cast already in attendance. “Sorry I’m late,” she offered to those who looked judgmentally at her.
The producer rose wrapping an arm around her, “Nonsense, we couldn’t begin until you were here.” He thrust a script into her hands and Sarah took a seat, next to Tony in the audience.
“I wish I could pick this all up just by flipping through it,” she told him, flicking the pages with her thumb.
“You’ll do fine Ms. Williams,” he tried to reassure her. She looked away not much up for accepting anyone’s flattery
“Tony?” Sarah asked him after they’d spent a few moments looking over the scripts. He turned his head and raised an eyebrow, indicating that she had his attention. “Jeremy, your new agent, how did the two of you get hooked up together?”
“It was the funniest thing,” he told her, happy to finally share the story with someone. What he’d told his uncle had been more a collection of half truths to keep him from asking too many questions. “He stumbled in to a bad spot just outside town. A poor neighborhood. Most of us can’t afford a radio, so we make our own music. For some reason, the stage actors love to stop by and poke fun or make comments. A lot of the guys are pretty good, if you ask me, and they get real worked up with the theater folks mostly because they never give us a shot to come into the city and really make something of our talent.”
“Never give us?” Sarah noticed the way he had said us and not them immediately.
“Yeah,” he admitted uneasily. “Look if you don’t rat me out then I’ll do anything for you, wash your car or paint your house. I’m a pretty good handyman and I don’t mind physical labor.”
“Your talented Tony, more so than I’ve seen in a long time. You’re secret is safe with me.” Her hand reached out to pat his.
He smiled. Coming from her, there was no greater compliment. “Thanks Ms. Williams.”
“Call me Sarah,” she told him. “I’m not old enough for you to be calling me Ms. Williams.”
“Yes ma’am, I mean Sarah. Anyway, here came Jeremy in this weird get up, from God only knows what show. This floppy white shirt with big sleeves and tights. Some crazy long coat all covered in beadwork and high heeled boots. He had this crazy mop all teased out and screwed down. I don’t know what he was thinking walking through my neighborhood that way, but some of the guys, well they didn’t like him being around.” Tony closed his script so he could tell Sarah what happened next. “I made him a deal. I would get my uncle to hook him up with some respectable threads, if he got me into this audition. My uncle Vic, set him up good with that snazzy suit and a decent hair cut. Must have taken a good hour to get the make up off him.”
Was she really hearing all this? They transformed her Goblin King. Tony and his uncle had taken the man she loved and made him trendy, another cliché, to walk unnoticed in the city streets. It made her sad thinking about him as ordinary when he was so much more. “We made up this nutty story about another PA who had messed up the auditions and how Buddy would look like a hero if he straightened things out. Almost shit myself when it worked. Oh,” he interrupted himself, “excuse me. Anyway, I was surprised that’s for sure. By the time they’d given me the part hands down, he was gone.” He fumbled with the corners of the book in his lap, “Never even got to say thanks.”
“Jareth is a hard one to appreciate sometimes,” Sarah confided in him.
Tony’s eyes grew wide with suspicion, “I never told you his name was Jareth. We called him Jeremy to keep anyone from asking questions. I ain’t told no one his real name, no one.”
“Let’s just say I know him from a long time ago and seeing him yesterday was good, it was really good.” Sarah was lost in her own reverie.
“It’s those eyes,” Tony told her. “Doesn’t matter how much you change a person’s clothes or hair, when they have eyes like that it’s almost impossible to hide who they are. Don’t think I’ve ever seen such a thing.”
“No, not many people have.” She reopened her script, “Guess we better start memorizing these things. I wish you a lot of success Tony Monroe. I wish you lots of good things.”
He looked at her strangely, but more because no one had ever wished him things before. The producer called them to the stage. Sarah stood without her script ready to perform. “Don’t you want this,” Buddy asked holding up her script.
“No thanks,” she told him, “I’m through with that.”
Buddy huffed, everybody who came into the theater thought they were something special. Sarah disappointed him more than most did, after all she had talent. Apparently she knew it. Together the main cast ran through the songs, everyone relying heavily on the books in their hands. Sarah strutted about the stage as if she’d wrote the blocking on her own. Every song was in pitch and her timing impeccable.
During a break Tony asked her how long she’d had the script. “Got mine when you got yours,” she told him. Don’t know why I managed to take to it so quickly.” Suddenly it frightened her. She was remembering the wish she made when she and Tony were sitting in the audience seats. She decided to ask the producer if she could wrap early. He agreed, impressed by how much work she managed to put into just a few hours. She became an example for all the others.
Sarah’s stomach was filled with butterflies as she walked home. The last couple of days were too much of a coincidence to make her comfortable. Absentmindedly, she paused on a street corner to watch some stomp musicians performing. ‘Wish I could dance like that,’ she thought. Without warning, one of the dancers picked her from the crowd and they were dancing in time to the rhythms and making music with every step. After a minute or so, Sarah was guided back to her spot in the crowd. She was in total disbelief. Sure Sarah had taken a few dance classes, but none as complicated as all that. A few other members of the crowd were chosen to participate, none of whom had the success Sarah had. She took off like a shot back down the street. Sarah’s loafer’s were escaping her feet as she slowed to a trot. How she wished she’d just worn sneakers. Within a second of thinking it, her feet were wrapped in the supportive leather of her sneakers. The trot became a full out run. Something odd was going on and she wondered how much of it was because of Jareth’s visit. For the first time in over a week she couldn’t wait to get home.
***** ***** *****
“Arulan, fetch me a healer,” he called to the elf. Jareth caught sight of himself in his mirror. “Even a healer couldn’t undo this.” Gloved fingers combed through what little hair remained. With a snap, the button up shirt and herringbone pants were traded for the king’s royal attire and his mane seemed to replenish itself on command. “I still have all the magic I need,” he huffed.
When his house elf entered the room, a healer was at her side. Quickly he went to setting up a poultice that would repair the King’s torn flesh. “Things did not go as you expected?” Arulan asked him when they were free of the healer’s company.
Jareth hissed at her as if they had never had their discussion prior to his leaving, “No Arulan, in fact they went better than I expected.”
“But news of the Triumvirate’s ruling made it to the castle less than an hour ago.”
“I must remember that,” he said prowling around her like she were some kind of prey his owl form was hunting. “I don’t leave you all with enough to keep you busy throughout the day. I’ll have to increase the work load.”
The healer returned, smearing a green and orange paste over his wound. It burnt like hell and Jareth found it exhilarating. His trip to the Aboveground had reeducated him to the pleasures of pain. Feeling it and inflicting it. Before the healer could even wipe the paste away, the king was on his feet storming towards the throne room, tossing the occasional stray goblin for fun. A particularly fuzzy one served to remove the paste from his forehead. “Glad to be back,” he announced.
“Yer majesty. Let me tell you what I caught these two scoundrels up to.”
“Don’t care,” the returning king said flatly.
“But yer majesty, I’m trying to tell you they have...” Hoggle never finished telling Jareth anything.
“And I’m telling you Hedgewart, I’m relieving you of your responsibilities this instant,” Jareth hissed at the dwarf.
Hoggle released the goblins he held in either hand. “Fine! You can have’em!” He threw his hands up in the air. Before he could even step away the two beasts were at one another.
Jareth just let them go at it. He took to his throne conforming to its curves. “Ah,” he breathed, “just the way I left it.” The Goblin King reached down beside his throne for his riding crop. With some purpose he began to crack it against his thigh. To the goblins who crowded the room with him, it was an ordinary day and he was behaving like himself. But in Jareth’s mind, he was punishing himself for what he’d allowed the mortal to do to him. He had tried to harden himself toward her before, but now he had new reasons to try. Jareth had shown her all the tenderness he had inside and she denied him, again. When he conquered the tunnel of riddles and learned to depend and appreciate. These were mistakes he would no longer make. A smirk bent his lips and he whispered softly to himself, “Fool me once, shame on you Sarah. Fool me twice, shame on me. My days of foolishness and shame are over. I am free of you forever. Free of love forever.”
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