:. [ baby, I've been breaking glass in your room again { Jareth } PART 2 added ] .:
October 21, 2010 - 7:29pm — Rutilus
The moon hung in the air as if suspended by a thin string, long and delicate like a spider's silken thread. Perhaps if one were to try and reach out, touch it, it would break, and nature's nightlight would fall down, down, down...Perhaps if it fell, it would knock the sun away, and day and night would switch. Four o clock in the afternoon would become four o clock in the early hours of the morning - but then again, time was distorted there, as it had always been.
It was not as if the castle was an unpleasant place to be; no, quite the opposite. It was spacious, enormous, with a distinctly authentic feel and look to it. There was of course no electricity, nothing like that; all of the Underground was driven by magic, both light and dark, good and bad, balanced and chaotic. It was lucky for some that the Goblin Kingdom remained relatively safe. The castle's labyrinth, created by Jareth, stretched for miles and prevented unwanted visitors from getting in. This was probably one of the reasons Jareth hadn't been assassinated.
No no, the castle was pleasant, providing one took no notice of the filthy, foul-mouthed, mischevious goblins that usually ran amock in at least five areas of the place. And Jareth, being Jareth, usually took no notice of them unless they were actually directly annoying him. He liked having excuses to send them to the bog, or turn them into chickens.
The best thing about the castle, however, was Sierra. She provided human -- well, Fae -- company, female company, a breath of fresh air amongst the filth of the race he was forced to rule over. When he was missing or tired of Chime, he knew that he could go to Sierra, and banter back and forth with her playfully until his mood had risen. Yes, she was good to have around.
That was why he hated seeing her upset.
I look into the crystal in my gloved palm, curious. A half-empty glass of wine. Or perhaps half-full? Right now, it feels more empty than full, and so I was correct the first time - as usual. Sierra is curled up on a thick mat, infront of the fireplace in her room. I turn the crystal, and I can see her face. Sparkling with tears.
Jareth hated seeing her upset.
He disappeared, then reappeared by her side, kneeling down. "Sierra," he murmered, brows furrowing. "Shh. Come here."
Jareth hated seeing her upset.
Jareth hated seeing her upset.
Jareth hated seeing her upset; he hugged her, saying nothing more, and hoped that she'd be allright.
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There is something wrong with her, he knows this now. It is no random mood crash - no, this is something serious, there is a reason for it, and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't anxious to know what it is. Jareth spends his time alone as usual, far from her, but at the same time near - for he is watching, almost always watching, through his precious crystals.
Precious.
Sierra is precious to him. He treasures her. If he didn't, if she meant nothing to him, he would not be angered by the fact that so many gentlemen throughout various kingdoms are writing letters to her, expressing their interests. Jareth hates this. To him, she is his - and yet, at the same time, not his at all. He feels as if he possesses her, even if she is not his bride nor his casual partner. Jareth is a clingy creature, masking gentle feeling with ferocious lies and jealousy. Clingy - but possessive.
Precious.
Does he mean that much to her? Jareth has only three friends in the world, in the human world, and zero friends in the Underground. He is an unpopular ruler. He has Chime, sweet, gentle Chime, whose kindhearted nature once brought him crashing down, who broke his heart after he had began to recover from the cruelty Tuna had bestowed on him.
'I don't love you. As a matter of fact I hate you.'
The truth hurts. And Tuna had been truthful that day.
You tricked me...
And then Chime, wonderful, wonderful Chime. Of course she had not meant to harm him - but she had, and he had acted unkindly for a long time afterwards.
Jareth is not prepared to suffer more pain like that.
He has Chime, he has Thomas, and he has Sierra.
Three.
Two? Thomas and Jareth spend more time arguing than anything.
Two.
Just two...
He looks at his gloved palm and a crystal appears in it, showing the miserable-looking Sierra sitting by her window. Jareth sighs, and shuts his eyes briefly.
What has he done? What did he say? Has he offended her? Is she tired of the Underground? It's too late now, he thinks, far too late. She is Fae, and the Labyrinth is an unfair thing.
Is it his fault she has been distancing herself? He wants nothing more than to pull her into his arms and ask her what has happened, tell her that he's here for her - but of course, the Goblin King is too proud for that.
Two...
If she goes...?
One.
And what if he is so hurt by Sierra's leaving that he distances himself from Chime and loses her, too?
Zero.
Jareth needs Sierra.
I can't stop smilling but I
Now I must right somthing else.....
EEEEEPPPPPP
The next story I write will be the confession to Jareth.