Greetings. I am Jareth, the Goblin King. What brings you to my kingdom? A wish, perhaps? I think it prudent to inform you that it is quite easy to get lost here. Especially if you do not find yourself in my favor... [ Labyrinth RP blog, any art belongs to respective owners ]
"I was at school." she confessed. "But I’d been having trouble sleeping. I kept having the same dream over and over again and I’d wake up exhausted, like I hadn’t slept at all. Finally I went to the campus med center, and they recommended a sleep study. I agreed, and contacted the people they referred me to. I was supposed to be finding out why I couldn’t get a good night’s rest and then suddenly that.”
She groaned. “I suppose I should explain. You… I… it’s been six years. Since you… since I wished my brother away. I’m at college now, studying English.”
"That long? How the clock does spin!" he replied, his voice rather strained despite his attempts to keep it light. "You've certainly grown, Sarah, in more ways than one. If I remember correctly, attending college is quite an accomplishment. I am...pleased that life seems to have treated you relatively well since we last met. What interests me most, however, is your mention of having a recurring dream. Would you mind elaborating on that topic? It's not my intention to pry, but since I am not a man who believes in coincidences, it could very well be related to our current problem."
Even though the most immediate threat had been eliminated, it was possible that other groups with similar goals were lurking in the shadows, waiting for the chance to strike. Or that could just be his paranoia speaking. Either way, his enemies should confront him instead of bringing Sarah into the fray. She knew no more than anyone else about him at this point. Yet in a way the cretins who'd harmed her had brought forth the weakness he still tried so hard to deny. To get to him, all one would need to do was to threaten the safety of the woman whose presence now stirred the lingering feelings in his heart.
The accusing tone in her voice made him roll his eyes a bit. Of course this would happen. Sarah could never simply be grateful for his services, so why did he continue to care? He scowled at her and nearly turned away before she spoke again. So his Champion had truly grown during her time away from the Underground. It was strange...he'd once thought that he would feel proud when she reached such a point in her life. But now he was only numb and hollow, having long since realized that he could not claim any part in her success. Sarah had learned many lessons due to his interference in her life, yet the strength she'd gained was her own, and taking credit for presenting the opportunity had become more trouble than it was worth. She had effectively crushed the arrogance that led him to make such a mistake in the first place.
"Something to that effect, yes." he replied, discreetly observing her for signs of physical damage. "And your apology is accepted. I do wonder, however, what exactly you were doing when our mutual adversaries took you into their care. It's quite unusual for my people to initiate contact with humans. Not like that, at least."
They danced, now on an icy lake, now against a sky torn asunder in aurora borealis, now in a wispy ballroom like that one so long ago. And Sarah Williams felt herself relax at last. It was as if a weight had been lifted from her, shattering into the fragments of crystal that became the stars above.
She glanced up at the Goblin King - she knew it was him somehow, either through the dance or something else -
- and suddenly she was locked in a tight waltz with a skeleton, and up ahead in the darkness was Death.
Suddenly he was jarred from his thoughts as the pastel colors swirling around Sarah became tainted by veins of ebony. A frown crinkled his brow as he rose from his seat to get a closer look. Whatever it was hadn't seemed to disturb his guest as of yet, but he knew it would soon. He reached out a hand to prod the invasive tendril with a spell, the let out a hiss, taking a step back as it lashed out in retaliation. His palm darkened for a few moments before fading back to its normal tone. Almost immediately afterward, his ears perked up at an eerie scream, causing him to wince. The noise was distant, traveling from Sarah's nightmare to echo through his mind. Though it only lasted a few moments, the sound drove the air from his lungs, making him shiver in sympathy. Jareth quickly regained his composure and let the spell fall apart as Sarah woke from her slumber.
"Everything all right, precious?" he questioned, sitting back down with an emotionless smile.
Oleksiy waited outside the door for the Goblin King to leave his quarters. They were having an excursion to the human world where a revolution was currently taking place, and it wouldn’t do them any good to be late for it.
“You almost done there, Jare?” he called in the door’s direction, “Or would you rather me leave without you and have you miss out on the fun?” Just the thought of the fae’s expression if that were to happen made him grin.
Jareth was standing in front of the mirror fussing over his appearance even more than usual. There had been a few holes in his glamour earlier that day, but the time he'd spent stretching the spell out seemed to have not been wasted. He released a sigh of relief and turned to look at his reflection in profile. A smirk twitched onto his lips. Such a fine specimen of manhood would certainly be a glorious contribution to the cause!
"Don't even think about it." he warns, grabbing his coat and opening the door. "You know perfectly well that I would find you and make you quite sorry if you did!"
The drugs had claimed her mind, but not to that great of an extent. Sarah could barely comprehend where she was, but she knew that voice, and she knew it was his fault.
"Fuck off." she groaned, thankful that the pain had stopped. “‘S your fault you poor excuse for a featherduster…"
That was the last thing she thought before she passed out cold, the strain too much for her human body.
Sarah Williams couldn’t see anything, but that didn’t frighten her. She couldn’t feel anything either, and yet that was somehow less of a problem. It was rather like she’d was floating, her mind adrift in a sea of nothingness and her body lost in the mattress of the bed she’d been laid upon. How she’d gotten there was a mystery, or perhaps the drugs were too great for her to remember, but there were figures moving about her and she vaguely recalled them being responsible for her current situation.
One of them, a dark-haired man, leaned over her and stared her in the eyes.
"We’ve nearly got her where we want her." he murmured. "We’ll pull that knowledge from her head yet."
Knowledge? Sarah wondered, the word a brief flame of clarity in the mist of her thoughts. What knowledge?
She kept floating in whatever dream was slowly working its way through her mind when the first flash of pain came. It was a sharp jolt inside her skull, and the sensation stung. She tried to reach up and find the source of the pain, but she realized her hands were restrained - in fact, her whole body was. Thick leather straps tied her down, and when she fidgeted the man took her hands and stared her right in the face, his eyes boring into her skull.
"No." he said softly. "Not until you give up your secrets."
"What secrets?" she demanded. "Tell me!"
"The secrets of the Goblin King." he said, and his eyes flashed with fire.
The Goblin King… she hadn’t heard that name in years. Her own foolish words were suddenly on the tip of her tongue, and she bit down hard. She may have been harboring a loathing for the Goblin King, but this mysterious man didn’t have to know that.
"Let me go." she pleaded, fear creeping into her voice as the pain increased inside her skull. "Please."
"Not a chance, Champion." he said, and the pain crackled to life again as Sarah screamed.
Jareth frowned as he listened to the conversation, and he cursed softly to himself in the ancient Fae tongue when he learned the reason for Sarah's imprisonment. Of course it was his fault. Everything was when it came to her. He was to blame for Toby's disappearance, every difficulty Sarah had throughout the labyrinth (granted, he did take the credit for creating the obstacles), the behavior of his subjects, the fact that she knew nothing of Fae customs, and now he was even responsible for the actions of a group of people he knew nothing about!
Another sigh passed his lips as he fought back the painful throbbing of a headache. Damnit all to the deepest pit of hell, he was not in the mood to fight, especially when it would be to rescue someone he'd practically come to despise. Not that he had much of a choice. Regardless of what Sarah might have come to believe, he truly wasn't cruel to those who had done him no wrong, and mercy was one of the words in his vocabulary. Her actions all those years ago had caused him much grief, but he still could not let her suffer in his name.
Sarah's screams drove him from his thoughts and brought his brooding to a screeching halt. The sound ripped the air from his lungs, nearly eliciting a pained cry from his own lips as well. Even after all the steps he'd taken to turn his emotions bitter, he still cared for her, and nothing would stop him from rescuing the young woman he'd once fervently pursued.
Glass shattered everywhere as Jareth flew through the window, shielding his face with one arm and summoning a fatal spell with his other hand. The people around him turned in surprise. He let magic flow through his body and out of his palm, sending it blasting into several of Sarah's captors. Most of them were knocked out with the first blow. Once everyone in the room was silent and still on the floor, he walked over to Sarah, gently detaching the machine with as much haste as he dared.
"Hello, precious." he purred, allowing himself a slight smirk. "Still a magnet for trouble, I see..."
Boredom. There were few things that Jareth hated more than not having something interesting to occupy his time. The only thing that he knew for certain to be worse was the rare occasion when nightmares crept into his dreams, and the previous night hadn't offered him a single moment of peace. He raised an unimpressed eyebrow as he gazed around the casual throne room. Not long ago, the area would have been filled with the constant grating chatter of his subjects. Everyone had learned to clear the room when their king was in a certain mood. Not that he'd said anything, but the goblins only enjoyed flying through the air when a painful spell wasn't propelling them forward. His fellow Fae had no doubt grown tired of being insulted.
If he let his thoughts dwell on the matter for more than a few seconds, the Goblin King would have probably felt rather guilty about the way he'd recently taken to treating his people. This was rarely the case, however, as he usually avoided confronting any of the fears and regrets that ran through the back of his mind. Painting a smile on his face and pretending to have moved past the hell that had been his near dethronement was much easier than admitting the truth. He knew it wouldn't last forever...but he was just stubborn enough to insist on remaining partially in denial for as long as he could.
"Tell anyone who inquires after me that I'm not available." he says to one of his servants in a brusque tone. "Unless it's a emergency, I do not wish to be disturbed."
After receiving a short nod from the man, he continued up the stairs, removing his jacket as he made his way down the hall and into the bathroom. Normally he would have simply shifted out of his clothes, but Jareth decided to save his limited supply of magic for more practical purposes. He hummed a soft tune and conjured up a bottle of scotch as the tub filled with warm water. The use of energy wasn't as constructive as he'd convinced himself it was, but the results pleased him nonetheless.
The heat from the water seemed to wrap around him in a comforting embrace as he slipped down into it. This was one of the few places he could truly relax without having to fear his own thoughts, and he found himself almost smiling.
"To pleasant dreams..." he murmured, raising the bottle of whisky to no one in particular before sealing his lips around it.
His muscles relaxed as he let the liquid flow down his throat. He didn't want to get drunk just yet, so he took a few drinks and put the container on the floor within easy reach. By that time, his bath had started to cool. There would be only a few more minutes of precious warmth before it was no longer comfortable to be wet. Jareth clung to the intimate sensation, closing his eyes and slipping his head beneath the water. The silence was blissful. Only the sound of his own heartbeat echoed in his ears, slowly lulling him into a calm trance-like state.
It was during these peaceful moments that he felt the first twinge of panic. He opened his eyes, furrowing his brow in slight confusion. The fear and panic were not his own, yet once experienced, they somehow evoked similar feelings within him. Once again the unfamiliar emotions crashed into him, their strength now knocking the air from his lungs. For several moments he was unable to move. A tight, tingling agony started to spread through his chest, and Jareth quickly realized that staying in that position much longer would cause him to pass out.
At last he was able to force himself to sit up, gasping for a decent breath to curse with. He'd broken out of his frozen state purely through his indignation at the thought of drowning in his own bath. Muttering to himself about the unfairness of it all, Jareth drained the water and pulled a robe on, exiting the room with a disgruntled scowl on his face. There was one way to find out just who - or what - was tinkering with his mind.
Jareth cursed rather loudly as he nearly slipped on something while entering his room. The maids had long since stopped visiting his quarters, and he was hardly in the mood to clean up after himself much more than was absolutely necessary. Hence, it took him several minutes to locate even one of the crystals he'd once stashed away in his dresser. When he finally pulled the sphere from its resting place, Jareth felt a familiar tiredness settle over him. Everything seemed to bring back memories he'd sworn to forget, but the crystals had always been the worst. He brushed the dust off of the one in his hand and sat on the bed, watching intently as the object gleamed in the moonlight. What slowly formed in its depths caused his heart to skip a beat. Regardless of how many pieces of fruit he devoured, he would never forget that face.
"It would be you, wouldn't it, Sarah?" he muttered bitterly.
Though the image wasn't clear enough for him to see much else, Jareth was able to tell that his beautiful and cruel champion was in unfamiliar surroundings. It was obvious that though she had her usual bravery and pride flaring in her eyes, Sarah was in over her head. He didn't want to help her. Hells, he wanted to just let her get what was coming to her. Yet he knew that to do so would be unfair...and more importantly, he knew that he'd never sleep soundly again if he turned his back on her now.
More curses rolled off his tongue as he got dressed again and set out to find her. Doing so wasn't very hard, and the crisp night air sharpened his senses as he flew onward. Intrigued as to exactly what Sarah had gotten herself into this time, Jareth decided that he would simply observe her for the time being. If he was lucky, no action would be necessary on his part at all.
[ I'm sitting here creating a new RP blog for Phantom of the Opera, and all the while I'm just thinking "Am I really doing this yes I am omg this is either going to be wonderful or absolutely horrid...". ]
*raises an eyebrow* What about it? It's a beverage that I admit I greatly enj-[ *taps shoulder and whispers into ear before slithering away* >w> ]*proceeds to choke and nearly spit his wine all over one of the servants, his face going completely red to the hidden tips of his ears* You...I...I did not need to know that. Ever. And anyone who says I already /did/ know is sorely mistaken. *covers his eyes with one hand* Sweet Mother above, I will never be able to drink that in front of him again...perhaps not at all...
Valencia idly sloshed her ale around in her tankard, trying her hardest to make an effort to actually relax after another full, headache inducing day of work as the Goblin King’s caretaker. She was thankful for the privacy of her booth, as opposed to her office which was disturbed an irritatingly frequent amount, even after hours.
It seemed as though the castle staff (with the exception of Abigail) would never warm up to her, despite how long she’s actually held this position. But you never can tell with fae. She, for one, used to hold an optimistic ideal that fae accepted beings of all race and origins.
Oh, how ever wrong she was. Her knuckles whitened from clenching the ear of her tankard as she thought back to the venomous whispers she would still hear to this day from people whenever she walked by.
“Freak…”
“Careful not to get the harpy mad or she’ll bite your ‘ead off, literally…”
“Her type should be put down, I’m tellin’ ya…”
“Ugh, and her being half-human makes things even worse…”
If she were to be honest with herself, this was a thing to be expected from anyone within her vicinity at this point in time. To think that this gimmick would’ve gotten old by now, she thought bitterly, taking a massive gulp of ale in spite of herself. She was at least thankful for Jareth’s presence granting her immunity for a few relieving moments before the cycle would restart.
As if summoned by the thought of him alone, a greeting and flirtation from the monarch in question broke her out of her brood. Speak of the devil, she intoned, rolling her eyes.
"Well, well, well, look who decided to come and get wasted in public again," she sneered playfully in response to his not-so-serious flatter. "And you’re not looking too horrible either, sparklypoo," she said the last part with a smirk.
Jareth rolled his eyes and let out a dramatic groan. That blasted nickname had spread? If one more person decided to start calling him that, then the unfortunate soul would find himself immediately bogged for the offense. Yet Jareth couldn't help but chuckle a bit as well. It was sometimes nice to know he had true friends who weren't afraid to tease him in such a manner. He almost felt...normal when around them.
"It's one of my favorite pastimes!" he responded with a grin. "You wouldn't deny a man the simple pleasures of life, now would you, Valencia?"
He let his gaze move over her at a steady pace. The days when he could not read her were quite rare, though of course he preferred to simply inquire through conversation. Staring at someone in an attempt to judge the mood often proved to be a dangerous habit in the Underground. Humans were easier to observe, as they didn't usually have to be concerned with others attempting to locate weak points in their defenses. Even less powerful beings- not that Valencia was one, she'd nearly knocked him flat on his back on several occasions- often became wary of stares due to the malicious intent sometimes hidden in the thoughts of their owners.
As usual, the alcohol brought brief moments of clarity, and Jareth couldn't help but wonder if perhaps he was overestimating the number of people who were as paranoid as he. The thought was not a comforting one. He knew of course that his behavior had become rather unpredictable at times, and the reason for it was no mystery. It was simply much more appealing an idea to attempt to hide the mood swings rather than seek help for the drug addiction that caused them. His excuse to himself was that he didn't want to burden anyone with the knowledge of what he put himself through on a daily basis, but of course that was a lie not even he could believe anymore. The truth was far simpler. Jareth had never been one to ask for help, and doing so now would cost him what little chance he had each day to grasp at that fevered dream, that delicate façade of happiness he had once come so close to attaining. Though he knew it to be otherwise, he felt as if losing what was left of the young woman he both loved and hated would kill him.
The Goblin King took another long drink in an attempt to drown his mind. He was in the uncomfortable stage of both being too sober to be able to completely relaxed and being just tipsy enough for his usual mental barriers to fall and let an unwanted amount of logic trickle into his thoughts. So instead of dwelling on the various guilt trips he would no doubt be put through if he listened to those thoughts, Jareth held the smug smile he'd approached his friend with settle into a normal one, putting his observations of her to some use.
"Long day, Val?" he asked in a casual yet gentle tone, letting his bright but tired eyes lock with hers.
The night was still quite young when Jareth slipped away from the castle and headed toward his favorite pub. He let out a soft sigh of relief as he walked, enjoying the opportunity to stretch his legs a bit. It had been a very long day filled with stressful yet pointless meetings. Why couldn't people just make up their minds as to what they wanted so that at least the arguments that took place would be on topic rather than a repeat of the usual insults regarding someone's lineage or race? It made him weary, and that wasn't exactly an emotion he could handle more of at the moment.
He took a few deep breaths of fresh air, closing his eyes and letting the cool breeze brush against his skin. An almost calm feeling settled over him after a few minutes. Aside from work, he'd had a fairly good day. There were no pressing crises that required him to come up with a solution that would no doubt cause someone to despise him, which was rather rare lately. It seemed many of his subjects were disgruntled for one reason or another. Jareth did his best to rule fairly, but he feared that sometimes his people either forgot the mess he'd been handed when the previous ruler had passed or that they remembered too well and expected him to fail in a similar fashion. He gave them everything that was in his power to provide in order to keep everyone safe and happy. Even when he was struggling with issues of his own, Jareth made certain that his people did not suffer with him. Yet there was only so much he could do when so many groups had varying and conflicting interests!
A frown slowly worked its way onto his lips. He grumbled irritably and shoved his hands into his pockets, good mood ruined by little more than wandering thoughts. Fortunately he would soon be too plastered to think at all. That didn't necessarily guarantee happiness, but perhaps he could cause a little harmless trouble while he was in town. He was already the laughingstock of the Underground. A few more stunts would just provide some stress relief and give everyone else present something to chuckle at the next morning over coffee.
Jareth stared upward incredulously as it started to rain. The place he was going was just around the corner, but that wasn't the point. The point was...was...Well, he just didn't want rain, damnit! He let out a soft string of curses and walked faster. An absolute downpour started right after the fae closed the door. In truth, he was quite lucky to have darted inside with only a light layer of water sprinkling the back of his coat, but the scowl that curled on his lip clearly showed that he didn't feel that way. He pulled up a stool and ordered a pint of ale. It wasn't long before the alcohol started buzzing through his system, relaxing his thoughts and muscles. Soon he took the jacket off and let one of his boots rest lazily on the chair.
The tips of his ears were tinged red, though of course they weren't visible. His cheeks were also rather rosy as he ordered yet another drink. There was a light and bubbly feeling running through him by that point, but he wasn't even close to being finished. No, he was still much too aware of both his surroundings and his emotions. That seemed to be all the better, however, as he spotted Valencia sitting in a booth not too far away. Jareth picked up his drink and sat down across from her with a smirk.
"Hello, Val. You're looking quite lovely tonight, as always." he said smoothly.
It was flirtatious, but he knew she would never take him seriously. That was one of the main reasons he did it. Not that he didn't mean the compliments he gave her! On the contrary, she was one of the few women he could speak honestly with, as he didn't have to worry about somehow offending her. Women were such delicate creatures at times. Or perhaps he was just an ass. The possibilities were interesting, but not enough to hold his interest when there was alcohol ready to be consumed in large quantities.
Sarah sneered. What a freakin’ drama queen. Toby had better hurry up, knowing him he was pestering poor Hoggle to no end. She was glad there were no attempts to stop the pair from advancing otherwise she’d probably end up going mad. If only she had hid that damned book better, or better yet, burnt it. But she couldn’t bring herself to do the latter, save under the most dire situation. Having to constantly pull up her towel was being annoying too. Note to self, make sure you’re fully clothed as soon as you get out of the shower.
"You should pay more attention to whose wishes you grant, then. If you had burst in like you had, we wouldn’t be so mutually inconvenienced," She said, words dripping with venom. She’d have gladly agreed to shut up, as soon as she had the last word, of course.
Toby picked up a stick-that-might-be-a-bone and clacked it absentmindedly along the wall, mulling over what he had heard. “You mean she didn’t know this whole place didn’t exist? Doesn’t everybody know that? And if he’s mean and an idiot why don’tcha just overthrow him? What’s a fae, anyway? And why’d he think Sarah would wanna be a queen, anyways? She’s not even a princess, she’s more like a knight…" He seemed mildly unshocked by the fact that he had been wished away as well.
Jareth rolled his eyes, but immediately regretted the action, wincing in pain as his headache let out a resounding protest. He probably deserved that. Having a day off to relax would have been far too simple. The Mother was punishing him for something, though what he wasn't quite certain. She seemed to have some sort of vendetta against him. Perhaps he hadn't been praying enough lately, though that didn't seem likely. How he prayed might have been the issue. Or rather, what state he was in when he turned to Her. Jareth rarely prayed when his mind was clear. His prayers went up when he was on the edge of drug-induced nightmares or in the few moments when he had trouble adjusting after a particularly strong dose. It wasn't as if he wanted to die, after all. Not really. He just...needed to forget the circumstances he was living in. There were just times when he became a bit careless.
Looking at the hostile young woman before him, Jareth couldn't help but wonder why he had missed her so much as to risk his health. Did he simply long for the shadow of a woman who had never truly existed? The Sarah he loved had fire in her, but she was also soft and tender. He saw no such mercy in her expression now. Then again, it was probably rather difficult to show such emotion toward the person she considered an untrustworthy villain. Bile rose to the back of his throat at the very thought of explaining his intentions to her. She wouldn't listen, and if she did then she certainly wouldn't understand or accept his reasons. That would be asking too much. There was one little detail he felt the need to clear up, but only because she had made an incorrect jump in logic.
"For your information, Miss Williams, I have little control over who gets whisked away by that particular set of words. The magic notifies me of the incoming victim, but it is the goblins who do the actual snatching due to the precise phrasing of the wish. I do not usually take it upon myself to visit the wisher until he or she arrives in the Underground. Sometimes there is no desire at all for the victim to be retrieved, and I simply concern myself with the one placed in my care. It all depends on where my services are needed most. Toby, it would seem, already knows the rules well enough not to need any direction from me. I cannot help him nor would I do something so senseless as to hinder him, therefore I am honor bound to watch over the one he has wished away. The fact that you are the one who has been ripped from your daily duties and dropped into my kingdom is, in all honesty, of little consequence other than that it is of course rather uncomfortable for all parties involved. But as we are both adults, might we simply- though perhaps begrudgingly and only for a short while- agree to disagree on the mess that is our past and act somewhat civil toward one another until I am able to sort out this wish?"
Feeling ill and mentally unsteady, Jareth sighed and plopped down into a comfortable chair, lounging in it and closing his eyes. Sarah was probably glaring at him in disgust for daring to do something so casual as sit down after making such a request. He decided that his poisonous little flower could just be offended. Half-lying in a chair was far better than suffering the humiliation of falling on his face and possibly passing out due to dizziness. Still, he was not one to dismiss his manners completely. He waved a hand at another chair, the other still massaging his temples in an attempt to relieve the growing pain.
"Have a seat, if you wish. There's no need to stand on ceremony or act so very indignant. You've already made your position quite clear. "No power over me" and all that..." he called out wearily.
Hoggle sighed at the endless stream of questions that Toby seemed to come up with. Not that they weren't all valid. No, in truth they were actually quite reasonable. The boy was likely both curious and confused concerning the Goblin Kingdom's monarch, which was to be expected. He deserved to know at least a few things about what was going on. The dwarf did not, however, think that he was the right one to explain, especially since there were some things even he didn't know the answer to.
"Not many people do know that, actually." he admitted. "We don't overthrow our king because as bad as he is, we've had much worse and don't want to take our chances getting someone like before. A fae...well, that's a type of creature. You're human, I'm a dwarf, and our king is fae. What exactly that means is a bit complicated. He'd probably be more than happy to explain it since it'd mean talking about himself. As to why he thought Sarah would want to be a queen, that is definitely a question you'd have to ask the rat, though I doubt Sarah would let you stay near him long enough to get the answer. If I had to take a guess, I'd say he based it off her dreams. That's his area of expertise other than time manipulation. In my opinion, he's just a snoop who doesn't care what anyone else actually wants."
Oleksiy suppressed a snicker at the irony of Sonia’s compliments to Jareth. Oh, if she only knew… Not that he didn’t trust Sonia, in fact she’d be the best person to confide in before anyone else. He simply felt that it was still too early in the day and maybe later on Valencia would have read the letter he had written excusing his majesty on his business trip. For now he would simply have to invent a story behind the chicken.
"I would really appreciate your help right about now," he told Sonia, “I’ve been needing to know what kind of grains are edible for him. You see, I found him roaming around outside the castle walls, poor thing almost fell into the lava moat…"
He was certain that adding heroics on his part to the story would not suit well with Jareth, but what was the harm in having a little fun with the inventing process? After all, he had adopted Modzio in almost the same way, therefore it wouldn’t be a surprise to his staff for him to suddenly develop a hobby of adopting stray animals that are inches away from danger. Although he did agree with the idea of these stories getting old really quick. But this temporary tale was good enough, he thought.
"By now he’s been more fidgety than usual," he continued to explain, “and I figured it was because he was hungry - I don’t know the first thing about a chicken’s diet, and so I came to you."
Sonia straightened, continuing to casually pet Jareth as she listened and raising one eyebrow at Oleksiy's explanation. It wasn't that she hadn't expected a similar tale. He was quite generous and kind when it came to caring for hurt or lost creatures. Most of them were simply released once they healed, but the king had kept one rather odd little fellow. Perhaps the chicken would stay as well. After all, it wasn't exactly normal to find them wandering the wilderness. The poor thing would be much better off in a permanent home.
"I'll give you some grain that will suit him just fine." she replied with a nod. "He can eat that, and he may pick at some grass as well. You'll likely find that he eats a few tiny pebbles that he finds. That's perfectly normal, and is actually necessary in order for him to be able to properly digest his food. If you have any problems you can always bring the little fluffy one to me again for some help."
Jareth had been enjoying the attention that Sonia so freely gave. Her hands were a bit rough from doing manual labor, but that wasn't something that bothered him. Hard work was something he admired. It wasn't often he could get a woman to treat him in such a soft and affectionate way. Well, he knew he could probably get a few of his servants to act that way if he showed interest or even just asked them to. But a relationship wasn't what Jareth wanted. Not from them. It would be...immoral. Contrary to what some might believe, he did have honor and limits. The servants were left alone out of respect unless they showed particular interest or showed up at one of his various parties. That was one of the few times when nothing could be promised, save for the fact that he would get unbelievably intoxicated and likely end up passing out in a bizarre location during the early hours of the morning.
The story Oleksiy gave as to how a chicken had come into his possession would have made Jareth roll his eyes, but he decided to just let it go. It wasn't nearly as humiliating as the truth. His state of contentment was finally interrupted when Sonia came to the list of things he would be required to consume. The grain would be less than pleasant, but he'd rather expected that. He was a chicken, after all. What caused him to fidget in distress and protest was this rock business. She expected him to eat that sort of rubbish?! He'd suffer whatever consequences came from his defiance, but no pebbles were going to enter his system!
"No. I refuse. Grain is fine, but I will not consume a single rock, regardless of what happens because of it. I am going to retain at least a shard of my dignity in this form even if it kills me." he told Oleksiy flatly.
