Title: Mere Words
Author: SkItZoFrEaK
Description: I have taken the liberty (with permission!) of writing a story based on Amber's 'Say Your Words' and 'When Words Aren't Enough' plotline. I really recommend reading her stories before this one, for a number of reasons. First and foremost, she is an exceptional author. Second, if you don't read at least 'When Words Aren't Enough', then you are definitely not going to understand this humble continuation. And third, who wants to jump into a story when it's already two-thirds told?
Disclaimers: Here's a toast to all those sneaky lawyer fiends who I'm sure are patrolling the Web right now, waiting for hapless fanfic authors such as myself to forget their legal disclaimers so they can swoop down and gobble them whole. In short - 'No Lawyers. Prosecutors Will Be Violated.'
Note: Criticism is appreciated. Flames will be used for a weenie roast.
"The wise man is not as clever as you think
The fool is not as foolish as he appears
The one who always laughs is not as happy as he pretends
The story is not as simple as it seems."
-translated Yiddish verse, 'Der Khokem'
Part One
"Dreaming allows every one of us to be safely insane every night of the week."
'Jareth....'
*Her voice was calling him, from somewhere far away, somewhere he could not reach.* 'Jareth, please...don't be dead....'
*'Sarah? Where are you? I'm not dead, Sarah, I'm here.' He called out, straining to see her-but the chains held him back. Chains? What in the Underground? He pulled, heaving against the barrier with a formidable strength-nothing. *
'Jareth...'
*The call was quieter this time, broken and pained. She was giving up on him! He tried to call out to her again, but now another chain was somehow wrapped tightly around his mouth, too. He growled, this had gone far enough. He called upon his large reserves of power to shatter the chains-
-and a surge of intense, ripping pain slammed into his body in racking waves so hard he thought he would die or go mad that very second-
- a cold, callous laugh resonated in his ears-*
Jareth awoke with a jolt, every muscle tensed in his body. He glared around the room, disoriented, shaking, stiff and sore as if he'd been beaten with heavy clubs-
-then, just as suddenly, the room snapped back into focus. He was lying in his own darkened chambers, in his own bed. The clock over the mantle piece read two or three minutes before sunrise, and despite the glowing fire in the hearth the air was cold against his bare skin. The thick blanket had somehow slipped off, leaving his chest and back exposed to the drafts from the pane-less window.
Well, his back, anyway. His chest, he noted with a small half smile, was very well protected by the warm body curled against it. He reached past his wife's sleeping body and pulled the blanket securely around them both. He tried to move carefully, but she stirred and blinked blearily up at him. "Jareth?"
"Good morning."
"'S it morning already?"
"Yes."
"Sun's not up." She said accusingly.
"I never said it was."
She favored him with a good-natured glower that quickly became more serious as her brain woke up enough to note the fact that he still shivering somewhat. "You cold?"
He hesitated. "No."
"Something wrong?"
"No."
"Liar."
"Hmm." He closed his eyes and lay back, clearly not about to tell her.
"Jareth," she pulled away and propped herself up on her elbow, deliberately not getting the hint. "Don't give me that. What is it?"
"Go to sleep, Sarah," he told her, without bothering to open his eyes.
She paused, struggling to hide a yawn, then tapped his eyelids with her fingers. "Oh no you don't. You're not getting off that easy."
"If I promise to tell you in the morning, will you go to sleep and leave me in peace?"
"Of course."
"Very well then."
There was a small pause.
"Jareth? I'm listening."
He cracked open a blue eye to stare at her. "I thought we made a deal?"
"We did. And as you so graciously pointed out a moment ago-it *is* morning."
The Goblin King opened his other eye and stared at her incredulously. "You sneaky-"
"Now now," she tsked. "Is that any way to speak to a queen?"
"A dream," he told her. "A mere dream. Now-*Your Highness*- let a poor man rest."
"What dream would leave the King of the Goblins in a cold sweat?"
"I wasn't in any such thing."
"Just answer the question, Jareth."
"You are intent on turning this into an argument, aren't you?"
She crossed her arms and tossed her hair in annoyance. Jareth matched her glare for glare, then a glint of something...untrustworthy?...flashed across his face. Uh-oh, Sarah thought. Maybe provoking him this early in the morning wasn't such a good idea. But she couldn't help it-natural curiosity and inherent stubbornness were manifest qualities of her personality.
"Very well." His voice was low and silky-definitely not good- and his smile was even more feral as he regarded her with half closed eyes. "In this dream, you, my dear, were in a great deal of danger and I was unable to get to you." He paused, and his eyes lost the predatory gleam for a brief moment, but when she looked twice, he was focused on her again. "I was willing to pass it off as a disagreeable side effect of the rather poor cuisine tonight-"
"Hey! I know I'm not a five star chef-!"
"-So you should leave the meal-making up to those who are." He cut off her protest smoothly, still smiling. She narrowed her eyes, a retort on the tip of her tongue, but he went on quickly. "As I was saying. I was ready to ignore it as a simple side effect-" he ignored her angry snort- "but now since you've forced me to think about it, I wonder if maybe it isn't some kind of warning."
"Warning for what?"
"Excellent question. And until we find the answer, maybe it would be best if I simply confined you to the castle for a few days." He glanced out the window as the sun came bursting over the horizon. "Hmm, looks like a lovely day, doesn't it?"
"WHAT?!" His wife sat bolt upright as the full impact of his words sank in. "Confine me to- you wouldn't dare!"
"I would. I will. I just did."
"Why you arrogant-"
"Now now," he tsked, with a triumphant smirk. "Is that any way to speak to a king?"
And with that, Jareth rolled out of bed, stretched lazily, and made a dignified if hasty retreat into the bathing chamber before his furious wife could find something to throw.
"Don't look so cheerful, my dear. It makes the goblins nervous."
Sarah threw a dark look at her husband's reflection. He smirked back at her over her own reflection's shoulder. She opened her mouth with a well-aimed stab of sarcasm, thought better of it, and put a pin between her lips instead as she concentrated on getting her hair up in a decent style. It took three more pins, but she finally managed to get it firmly secured. There.
"Beautiful," a rich voice murmured in her ear, accompanied by a warm hand caressing the back of her neck; and for a moment she almost - almost - forgave him. Damn it all, it wasn't *fair!* She wasn't asking much, was she? All she wanted was to be furious at him in peace. He could at least give her that, couldn't he?
Jareth smirked. "No." He bent and touched his lips lightly to her face, staring at her eyes in the mirror. She softened briefly, then shook her head in irritation.
"Stop reading my thoughts."
"You think loudly."
She scowled at him, and to let him know just how furious she was, she got up from her vanity table and left the room without so much as one rude retort.
Jareth watched her stalk out, then shook his head and sighed. Stubborn, stubborn, stubborn. And all he'd done was order her to stay in the castle for a few days. Women.
Sarah stomped down the hallway, scattering goblins as she went. How dare he! First he chains her inside her own home-*for some mysterious reason that he won't even tell me* -then he has the gall to walk around and act like everything's all peaches and cream. Jerk, she thought darkly, stomping down hard on the stair she'd come to and repeating the word mentally with every step up. Jerk, jerk, jerk, *Jerk*! There. Now she felt a little better.
"M'Lady?" She turned at the gravelly stutter sound of a goblin voice. A small, hairy creature shuffled up to her.
"Yes?" She put aside her frustration long enough to smile briefly. Ugly, smelly, and stupid as most goblins were, she couldn't find it in her heart to be cruel to them. It wasn't their fault they were the way they were-and sometimes they weren't even all that bad, she though, remembering Hetta and her little son Rilum.
"Uh...er...there's a dwarf an' a fox down inna main hall fer you, Lady." The goblin wrinkled its already considerable creased visage and made a gesture back the way it had come. Sarah nodded in dismissal and made her way through the winding corridors of the castle. A dwarf and a fox come specifically for her could only mean one thing-Hoggle and Sir Didymus. Her black mood lifted a little. Good timing, guys, she thought. I really need an ally right now.
"My lady," a voice cried the minute she entered the room, and she laughed as Didymus swept of his hat in a courtly bow.
"Welcome good sir knight," she curtsied back, then dropped to her knees and planted a kiss on Hoggle's weathered face. "Hi, Hoggle. How'd you know I needed you?"
"I didn't," he said gruffly. "But I just 'eard you had another row with Jareth. Doncha ever give the man some peace?"
"Oh, not you too!" She threw up her hands. "*He's* the one who locked me in here!"
"Dost thou need rescuing, my lady?" Didymus asked uncertainly. "For I will, of course, face great peril for thy sake-"
"No, no, that's alright, Didymus. I don't need rescuing. I just need OUT. Before I strangle my husband. Or better yet-" she grinned one of Jareth's devious grins, "-I'll banish him to the couch until he lets me go!"
Hoggle raised a bushy eyebrow at her.
"Oh, shut up." She grumbled, settling herself cross-legged on the ground. "I'll think of something."
Author: SkItZoFrEaK
Description: I have taken the liberty (with permission!) of writing a story based on Amber's 'Say Your Words' and 'When Words Aren't Enough' plotline. I really recommend reading her stories before this one, for a number of reasons. First and foremost, she is an exceptional author. Second, if you don't read at least 'When Words Aren't Enough', then you are definitely not going to understand this humble continuation. And third, who wants to jump into a story when it's already two-thirds told?
Disclaimers: Here's a toast to all those sneaky lawyer fiends who I'm sure are patrolling the Web right now, waiting for hapless fanfic authors such as myself to forget their legal disclaimers so they can swoop down and gobble them whole. In short - 'No Lawyers. Prosecutors Will Be Violated.'
Note: Criticism is appreciated. Flames will be used for a weenie roast.
"The wise man is not as clever as you think
The fool is not as foolish as he appears
The one who always laughs is not as happy as he pretends
The story is not as simple as it seems."
-translated Yiddish verse, 'Der Khokem'
Part One
"Dreaming allows every one of us to be safely insane every night of the week."
'Jareth....'
*Her voice was calling him, from somewhere far away, somewhere he could not reach.* 'Jareth, please...don't be dead....'
*'Sarah? Where are you? I'm not dead, Sarah, I'm here.' He called out, straining to see her-but the chains held him back. Chains? What in the Underground? He pulled, heaving against the barrier with a formidable strength-nothing. *
'Jareth...'
*The call was quieter this time, broken and pained. She was giving up on him! He tried to call out to her again, but now another chain was somehow wrapped tightly around his mouth, too. He growled, this had gone far enough. He called upon his large reserves of power to shatter the chains-
-and a surge of intense, ripping pain slammed into his body in racking waves so hard he thought he would die or go mad that very second-
- a cold, callous laugh resonated in his ears-*
Jareth awoke with a jolt, every muscle tensed in his body. He glared around the room, disoriented, shaking, stiff and sore as if he'd been beaten with heavy clubs-
-then, just as suddenly, the room snapped back into focus. He was lying in his own darkened chambers, in his own bed. The clock over the mantle piece read two or three minutes before sunrise, and despite the glowing fire in the hearth the air was cold against his bare skin. The thick blanket had somehow slipped off, leaving his chest and back exposed to the drafts from the pane-less window.
Well, his back, anyway. His chest, he noted with a small half smile, was very well protected by the warm body curled against it. He reached past his wife's sleeping body and pulled the blanket securely around them both. He tried to move carefully, but she stirred and blinked blearily up at him. "Jareth?"
"Good morning."
"'S it morning already?"
"Yes."
"Sun's not up." She said accusingly.
"I never said it was."
She favored him with a good-natured glower that quickly became more serious as her brain woke up enough to note the fact that he still shivering somewhat. "You cold?"
He hesitated. "No."
"Something wrong?"
"No."
"Liar."
"Hmm." He closed his eyes and lay back, clearly not about to tell her.
"Jareth," she pulled away and propped herself up on her elbow, deliberately not getting the hint. "Don't give me that. What is it?"
"Go to sleep, Sarah," he told her, without bothering to open his eyes.
She paused, struggling to hide a yawn, then tapped his eyelids with her fingers. "Oh no you don't. You're not getting off that easy."
"If I promise to tell you in the morning, will you go to sleep and leave me in peace?"
"Of course."
"Very well then."
There was a small pause.
"Jareth? I'm listening."
He cracked open a blue eye to stare at her. "I thought we made a deal?"
"We did. And as you so graciously pointed out a moment ago-it *is* morning."
The Goblin King opened his other eye and stared at her incredulously. "You sneaky-"
"Now now," she tsked. "Is that any way to speak to a queen?"
"A dream," he told her. "A mere dream. Now-*Your Highness*- let a poor man rest."
"What dream would leave the King of the Goblins in a cold sweat?"
"I wasn't in any such thing."
"Just answer the question, Jareth."
"You are intent on turning this into an argument, aren't you?"
She crossed her arms and tossed her hair in annoyance. Jareth matched her glare for glare, then a glint of something...untrustworthy?...flashed across his face. Uh-oh, Sarah thought. Maybe provoking him this early in the morning wasn't such a good idea. But she couldn't help it-natural curiosity and inherent stubbornness were manifest qualities of her personality.
"Very well." His voice was low and silky-definitely not good- and his smile was even more feral as he regarded her with half closed eyes. "In this dream, you, my dear, were in a great deal of danger and I was unable to get to you." He paused, and his eyes lost the predatory gleam for a brief moment, but when she looked twice, he was focused on her again. "I was willing to pass it off as a disagreeable side effect of the rather poor cuisine tonight-"
"Hey! I know I'm not a five star chef-!"
"-So you should leave the meal-making up to those who are." He cut off her protest smoothly, still smiling. She narrowed her eyes, a retort on the tip of her tongue, but he went on quickly. "As I was saying. I was ready to ignore it as a simple side effect-" he ignored her angry snort- "but now since you've forced me to think about it, I wonder if maybe it isn't some kind of warning."
"Warning for what?"
"Excellent question. And until we find the answer, maybe it would be best if I simply confined you to the castle for a few days." He glanced out the window as the sun came bursting over the horizon. "Hmm, looks like a lovely day, doesn't it?"
"WHAT?!" His wife sat bolt upright as the full impact of his words sank in. "Confine me to- you wouldn't dare!"
"I would. I will. I just did."
"Why you arrogant-"
"Now now," he tsked, with a triumphant smirk. "Is that any way to speak to a king?"
And with that, Jareth rolled out of bed, stretched lazily, and made a dignified if hasty retreat into the bathing chamber before his furious wife could find something to throw.
"Don't look so cheerful, my dear. It makes the goblins nervous."
Sarah threw a dark look at her husband's reflection. He smirked back at her over her own reflection's shoulder. She opened her mouth with a well-aimed stab of sarcasm, thought better of it, and put a pin between her lips instead as she concentrated on getting her hair up in a decent style. It took three more pins, but she finally managed to get it firmly secured. There.
"Beautiful," a rich voice murmured in her ear, accompanied by a warm hand caressing the back of her neck; and for a moment she almost - almost - forgave him. Damn it all, it wasn't *fair!* She wasn't asking much, was she? All she wanted was to be furious at him in peace. He could at least give her that, couldn't he?
Jareth smirked. "No." He bent and touched his lips lightly to her face, staring at her eyes in the mirror. She softened briefly, then shook her head in irritation.
"Stop reading my thoughts."
"You think loudly."
She scowled at him, and to let him know just how furious she was, she got up from her vanity table and left the room without so much as one rude retort.
Jareth watched her stalk out, then shook his head and sighed. Stubborn, stubborn, stubborn. And all he'd done was order her to stay in the castle for a few days. Women.
Sarah stomped down the hallway, scattering goblins as she went. How dare he! First he chains her inside her own home-*for some mysterious reason that he won't even tell me* -then he has the gall to walk around and act like everything's all peaches and cream. Jerk, she thought darkly, stomping down hard on the stair she'd come to and repeating the word mentally with every step up. Jerk, jerk, jerk, *Jerk*! There. Now she felt a little better.
"M'Lady?" She turned at the gravelly stutter sound of a goblin voice. A small, hairy creature shuffled up to her.
"Yes?" She put aside her frustration long enough to smile briefly. Ugly, smelly, and stupid as most goblins were, she couldn't find it in her heart to be cruel to them. It wasn't their fault they were the way they were-and sometimes they weren't even all that bad, she though, remembering Hetta and her little son Rilum.
"Uh...er...there's a dwarf an' a fox down inna main hall fer you, Lady." The goblin wrinkled its already considerable creased visage and made a gesture back the way it had come. Sarah nodded in dismissal and made her way through the winding corridors of the castle. A dwarf and a fox come specifically for her could only mean one thing-Hoggle and Sir Didymus. Her black mood lifted a little. Good timing, guys, she thought. I really need an ally right now.
"My lady," a voice cried the minute she entered the room, and she laughed as Didymus swept of his hat in a courtly bow.
"Welcome good sir knight," she curtsied back, then dropped to her knees and planted a kiss on Hoggle's weathered face. "Hi, Hoggle. How'd you know I needed you?"
"I didn't," he said gruffly. "But I just 'eard you had another row with Jareth. Doncha ever give the man some peace?"
"Oh, not you too!" She threw up her hands. "*He's* the one who locked me in here!"
"Dost thou need rescuing, my lady?" Didymus asked uncertainly. "For I will, of course, face great peril for thy sake-"
"No, no, that's alright, Didymus. I don't need rescuing. I just need OUT. Before I strangle my husband. Or better yet-" she grinned one of Jareth's devious grins, "-I'll banish him to the couch until he lets me go!"
Hoggle raised a bushy eyebrow at her.
"Oh, shut up." She grumbled, settling herself cross-legged on the ground. "I'll think of something."