Author: Kat Lee
Character/Pairing: Jareth, OMC, Mild Jareth/Sarah
Challenge/Prompt: beattheblackdog 110: Block
Word Count: 1,058
Date Written: 11 May 2018
Disclaimer: All characters within belong to Henson, not the author, and are used without permission.
“You’re blocking my view,” the King murmured to which his colorful subject instantly and silently shrieked. His eyes bulged out of his head. He clasped his feathery hands to either side of his wide open jaw. He shook, his bright orange feathers trembling, and finally he leaped out of the way, sailing pass his Royal Highness and out into the entrance way of the Jareth’s dressing chamber.
“Very good,” Jareth observed with a pleased smirk. He turned slowly, surveying his reflection in the two dozen mirrors surrounding him. They were of all sizes, and working together, the twenty four mirrors gave the King a view of every angle of his royal, magnificent body. “You know, Flickersprite, you do remarkable work on fashionable attire, especially for one who insists on being a nudist.”
The Fiery laughed and tossed his head from his agile shoulders. “Your Majesty observes well,” he said, his ears wiggling, “but you look even better from up here!”
Jareth laughed and resisted the urge to kick his subject’s head as it fell back down. The Fiery grasped his own head and repositioned it on his shoulders. “You do look wild, man!” he complimented him again, careful not to take any credit for himself, not even the fact that the sparkling, green and blue jewels with which he had bedecked the King’s new leather jacket highlighted his unusual eyes. “No chick could resist you!”
Hmm, Jareth mused to himself, turning again and once more observing his reflection with a critical eye, if only that were true. Yet he had the notion that no matter how wonderful he looked, Sarah would always turn him down.
“If she does, then she’s stupid, and she must be into women herself!” The Fiery’s ears wriggled, but Jareth didn’t take it as a sign that he was fibbing. Flickersprite had never driven, or dressed, him wrong yet.
“Perhaps you are right,” he mused.
“Of course I’m right!” the Fiery exclaimed, his ears still wriggling. “Every female in the kingdom wants you, Your Majesty, and most of the men do too! For her not to be wooed by your looks alone is insane, but then we already know this chick is insane -- and not in a good way! You know she took our heads and refused to give them back when she was in our woods!”
“I know,” Jareth murmured, tapping his regal, handsome chin with the jewelled fingers of his new clothes. “Perhaps you are right, Flickersprite. Perhaps the girl is insane.” Perhaps that is the problem with us all. He still well remembered awakening in this strange land and thinking he had gone insane. He had been afraid he had stumbled into his father’s acidic drinks, and it had taken him quite some considerable time to learn that he was not dreaming at all but that everything around him, as fantastical as it seemed, was indeed real.
Perhaps that was Sarah’s problem. Perhaps she only needed time to realize that all of what she had experienced since she had asked him to take her baby brother was real, including the feelings she had for him. He already knew his love for her was genuine, but perhaps the girl simply needed time to realize that the most majestic specimen of the male gender really had been wowed by her. Perhaps she realized how little her charms might mean elsewhere, but Jareth pass her inexperience and outward beauty to a soul that shined and sparkled like no other he’d ever encountered. That was why he loved her, and it was why he would make her his Queen.
“Thank you, Flickersprite,” he said with a humbleness that no other creature in his entire kingdom had ever witnessed him display, and no other ever would. “Are you sure I can not reward you with a larger, more provincial role in your people’s court?”
“Quite right, Daddy-o. I’m happy right where I’m at. Besides, if I gotta be ruling folks, I won’t have the time to make all these snazzy duds.” He laughed.
“You’re right,” Jareth assented, “and I certainly would not want you to come away from your creation tables.”
“No worries, Kingie. I’ll be making you clothes to wow them in for centuries to come.”
Jareth took one last turn, and one last observation, of his newest outfit. He snapped the black, jewelled collar with pride but did not mention that, in truth, he was only interested in wowing one person. She was the hardest being to wow he had come across in centuries, but perhaps it was all because she believed that everything she saw was merely a figment of her imagination. He would have to make her realize that even her wildest imaginings could not create a beauty such as his.
He would have to make her understand that he was real, flesh and blood and hers for the taking if she would only deign to allow him to rule her and be ruled by her. He was hers; she only had to say the words. Rising onto the night wind, Jareth flew over his kingdom and looked at all the beauties it held, none of which could come to rivalling his own. Yes, the girl had to think she was only imagining things. Once she understood that everything was real and hers for the taking, that he was hers for the taking, she could not possibly turn him away any longer.
Jareth smiled at his reflection in a crystal clear, blue lake as he landed. Yes, it was only a matter of time before the girl was his; he’d make her so tonight at the dance. He hummed his joy, and the very earth came alive underneath his booted feet, humming back to him and growing new life. New flowers, plants, and trees began to grow from every step he took, and soon Sarah would respond to his presence and beauty as well. Soon she would grow into a life she’d never thought she could have but that he would give her. It was all only a matter of time; she would be his! Jareth smiled, hummed, and finally laughed, his regal voice carrying out across his land and making all who heard it either smile or shiver and crawl deep into hiding.