From: "alorindanya" <[email protected]>
Date: Tue Aug 6, 2002 11:02 pm
Subject: "The Thief, The King, and The Son" Ch. 3/?


Sorry it has been a while between chapters. I'm working on "Linda's
Wish" also, and that one is more of a priority than this one...in the
sense that since it comes first I really should finish it before I
get too far into this story and start writing variant histories.
Thanks for all the reviews. I really love them.


"The Thief, The King, and The Son" by Alorin Danya


Chapter 3: Why Hide the Truth?

Jareth stepped back into the hallway, again glancing at the many
pictures. One in particular caught his attention. It was of the
beautiful girl, this time by herself and younger, perhaps ten years
old. She had a crown of flowers in her hair and her dress of light
blue flowed to the ground as she bent over to smell a tall orange
flower. Her face was in profile, her eyes closed as if making a
wish. He could imagine that she was someone who believed in wishes
and that they could come true for her. He would have to ask Irene
more about this girl. Even some humans have a little magic, and if
this girl had just enough, perhaps she could send him home.

He left the hall and went back downstairs, where a boy was sitting on
the floor in the main room, intensely watching a moving picture box
and aggressively handling a small box with buttons in his hands.
Though Jareth found this to be a curious activity, Roy seemed to not
find it unusual, for he was lounging on the couch reading the
newspaper. At seeing Jareth enter, he nodded his head towards the
boy.

"This here's my boy, Joey." Roy gave his son a light tap with his
foot, "Joey, say hello to J. He's gonna be stayin' here with us for a
while."

The boy didn't turn around, only removed one hand momentarily from
the controller and waved.

"Joey," Roy said, standing up over his son, "Hey, turn that thing off
and greet him proper."

The boy slumped his shoulders before reaching above him to turn the
picture box off. He then stood and turned towards Jareth. He was
around twelve, a younger version of his father yet with his mother's
red hair, but unlike both his parents, his eyes were blue. Eyes that
gave the king a once over before actually looking at him. The second
he looked Jareth in the eyes, his face turned to shock and anger.

"Dad, who is he again?" the boy asked, voice full of anger.

"I told you, he's Jareth and he's stayin' with us."

"No!" the boy shouted.

"Now listen here..." Roy started, taking a step towards his son.

"Get that freak away from me." Joey said as he bolted into another
room.

Roy just stood there a moment, his face showing his confusion on what
had just happened. "Sorry, man. Don't know what got into him."

Jareth stared at him blankly, angered in his soul that his new
appearance wasn't enough, "I still don't fit in."

"You look fine."

"The boy called me 'freak.' Isn't that the same term you used?"

"Look, there's nothin' wrong with you. I'll go see what's really up."
Before Roy stepped out of the room, he tossed Jareth a small black
box that had buttons with numbers and other symbols on it, "Push the
red button and the TV will come on. Hit the up or down button and
find somethin' to watch."

Roy then left Jareth standing alone in the room. The Goblin King
pressed the red button and the picture box sprung to life, showing
people in automobiles shooting guns at each other. It was
uninteresting to him, so he pressed a button with an arrow pointing
up, like Roy had instructed, but the volume increased to a blaring
state with that button. Jareth quickly pressed the adjoining down
button, causing the sound to get low enough for him to overhear the
argument going on in the other room between mother, father and son.

"...know he is."

"Joey, you know that is ridiculous," Irene sighed, "That was just a
fairy story."

"No, it was real. I believe it."

"You're a grown boy and should know better than to believe baby
stories," Roy yelled harshly.

"He even has his name!" the boy shot back, "Same name, same funny
eyes..."

Jareth rose at this. How did the boy know him?

"He's just a normal man." Irene tried to sound convincing.

"He's the Goblin King!" Joey shouted again.

"If you say that one more time..." Roy started.

"Why don't you ever listen to me?"

The boy was about to run out of the kitchen, but by that time, Jareth
was already in the doorway, blocking Joey's escape. The boy gasped
and backed up, running into the table behind him. Jareth spotted an
empty chair and told the boy to sit. Joey sat without a sound.

"How do you know of me?"

The boy sat up straight and bold in the chair, "My cousin told me.
You take kids and make 'em goblins."

Jareth raised an eyebrow, "I, my boy, never made them goblins."

"Jareth!" Roy started.

"Why keep the truth from him if I'm going to be present."

"You aren't staying! You can go back to the Labyrinth." Joey spat.

"He can't," Irene said softly, "He doesn't have magic anymore."

"So you see, there is no reason to fear me." Jareth gave the boy a
reluctant smile, "I couldn't harm you even if I chose."

Joey just huffed and crossed his arms over his chest, focusing his
eyes intently at the floor.

"Go on to your room," Irene said, "We'll call you down for dinner."

Joey rose and started to leave, but he abruptly stopped, "Is he going
to be here?" When his father said that Jareth would be, Joey sprinted
out of the room, "Then I won't be."

Jareth leaned against the kitchen counter, "Your child is
delightful."

Irene moved to follow her son, but paused as she passed
Jareth, "Sorry about that your majesty...We hoped he would never know
who you really were."

Jareth looked towards Roy after she left, "Who told him of me?"

"His cousin--she's told the story of Labyrinth for years. That's what
he chooses to remember, her fairy stories. Well, children do dream."
Roy shrugged. "We'd better head over to Murry's before he closes. he
likes to head home before five--the joy's of ownin' your own business
I guess."

"And who is this Murry?"

"The pawn dealer. We need cash to get you a new wardrobe. My stuff's
too big for you."

Jareth looked away from the man, not wanting to return to the subject
of selling the one thing that connected him to who he really was. No,
there had to be another way than to loose his pendant. Roy was a
thief, who was to say he wasn't a liar also. He claimed to be poor
yet had food on his stable and a roof over his head; certainly adding
another to those he provided for wouldn't be such a burden. "You seem
to be able to provide well enough for yourself."

"And?" Roy asked as if there were no point to the statement.

Jareth rubbed his fingers over his pendant, feeling the warm metal
with is uncommonly bare fingers. "I will not part with it."

"Hey, look," Roy crossed his arms over his chest, "I ain't payin' for
your things. Whatever it is that brought you here is YOUR problem.
I'm just givin' you a place to stay. You are not king here and you
will earn your keep. Capiche?"

Jareth grinned to himself, his voice having a dangerous yet amused
tone, "I don't think any human has ever ordered me before."

"Well, get used to it." When Jareth glared at him with cold eyes, Roy
quickly added, "I'm only sayin' it because you want to learn our
ways. Well, learn this. Life isn't fair and everything comes with a
price. You either keep up or get run over." He stopped for a second,
the look on his face, a dismal cock of the eyebrow, showed he
realized Jareth might not be following, "Am I even makin' sense to
you?"

"Your world is harsh and selfish. This I have always known. No one
would have wished a child away if things were perfect here." Jareth
amusedly added.

Roy relaxed at Jareth's calmer tone, "Heck of a job you must' a had.
What all did you do anyway?"

"Far too much to explain now." What had he done? Try to rule unruly
creatures, hold together a land with a mind of its own and pray every
day he would be able to have the strength to bare it all. Though he
was king, was it a place he really wanted to go back to? Could he
have been placed in this world to find something better for himself?
If he tried to hold on to his past, he would never know.

Jareth closed his eyes as he reached around his neck, the muscles in
his bruised shoulders aching from the motion as he removed his
pendant. He then handed the necklace to Roy, "Here. Do as you must."

Roy took the metal into his hands, and after holding it for a moment,
his eyes began to gleam with a plan.

Jareth snatched the pendant back, "No, on second thought, I will come
with you. I wouldn't want you stealing what belongs to me."

Roy looked at him in all innocence, "I would never..."

Jareth grinned wickedly, "We both know you would."

* * *

"Two thirty seven," Murry, an old balding black sixty year old man
grumbled.

"Come on, Mur. You gotta give more than that. It's solid gold." Roy
pushed.

"And that's what gold this size is going for." Murry started to
remove his black cash box back into the safe he kept behind the
counter, "Besides, I'm gonna go broke if I give you any more than
that. You already got sixty for that gun and a hundred for that
feathered get up."

Roy glanced at Jareth, who was examining the collection of jewelry
Murry had on the other side of the glass counter, knowing that Jareth
could be touchy when it came to commenting on the style of dress in
his world. But the king was doing a good job of hiding his opinion
if he had one. Roy looked at Jareth's clothes, now crumpled on a
chair behind Murry. That garb itself looked like it should have been
just as much as the pendant, but that he didn't push it because,
well, who on Earth would buy it? But the pendant, that he could
bargain more for.
"Make it three hundred, and we'll get out of your hair."

"Fine." Murry placed the cash box back on the counter and handed Roy
the cash. Then he pulled the pendant along the glass with his hand.

The sound of metal scraping on the glass caught Jareth's attention
and he slammed his hand over Murry's, looking intently into the man's
face, "Can you assure me you will not sell this?"

"I have a thirty day policy. You gather enough money by then, pay me
and it's yours."

Jareth released him, a curt nod his only thanks. He then followed Roy
out of the cluttered shop, watching as the man fingered the paper
currency in his hands. "Tell me, what value do those papers hold?"

"It's called money. Dollars and cents." Roy stopped and turned,
holding out the bills as he tried to explain them, "Take these papers-
-dollars. They tell us every dollar is baccked by gold..." He realized
he was getting no where, shrugged and walked on to the car, "I've
never understood it. So forgive me if I can't teach you that. But I
work," he opened the door to his car and got in, "I get these numbers
added to my collection of money in the bank and I use it until I have
to work more to make more."

Jareth nodded as he fastened his seatbelt--a practice heavily thrust
on him by Irene before they left that afternoon. 'I'm not going to
have a dead king on my hands,' was all she said at his protest that
the upper belt cut into his neck. "I see, so you do not collect money
enough to supply financial security for your family, which has led
you to your criminal habits of thievery and pawning."

Roy started the car rather roughly, "Hey, I don't like working.
You're a king. You wouldn't understand."

"What is it with mortals thinking kings have lives of leisure?"

Roy watched his rearview mirror as he backed out of the spot, "It's
what we're taught. It's a dream we all have, to live the lives of
kings, have others do things for us."

"I have always done everything for myself," Jareth said lowly.

Roy kept his eyes straight ahead on the road, "Right, I'm sure you
didn't have servants at your beck and call."

"Goblins are too filthy and clumsy to make anything other than
guards, and the other inhabitants of my kingdom are not much better--
save one, but I could never get that dwarf to follow my instructions
fully."

"You make it sound like it was a shitty mess."

Jareth chuckled, "Compared to everything here, yes."

Roy pulled into the parking lot of a department store, Burlington
Coat Factory, a place he knew for a fact had affordable suits. Roy
watched Jareth's reaction to such a place; the king tried to look
uninterested at what he saw, but Roy caught a raised eyebrow or
widened eyes here and there. He led Jareth to the men's department
and to the suit and tie section. There was a decent blue blazer that
caught his eye and he lifted it for Jareth's inspection.

"We'll get you one of these first and see how much money we have left
over."

Jareth scrunched his nose, "What is this attire for?"

"Job interviews. You have to get a job to make money to buy your gold
back."

"I see. What profession would I be going for?"

"Something were you don't have to know much about this world, that's
what." Roy then grabbed another suit from the rack, "Now, what color
do you want? Blue or black?"

The king considered it. He had worn enough black in his life, and if
this was truly where the Fates deemed he would make a new start for
himself, then he wanted to start anew. "Blue."

* * *

"Iri, we're back!" Roy shouted, holding the door open for Jareth.
The man refused to carry any of the bags and packages full of
Jareth's purchases. At the king's original protest, Roy told him to
stop complaining and just accept that people do things for themselves
in this world.

Irene came downstairs and stepped into the living room, a scowl
plastered on her face, "Roy, your son is as stubborn as a goblin."

Jareth chuckled, nearly making the packages under his chin topple out
of his grasp, "Are you just saying that because I am her or do you
use such terms regularly?"

"All the time. I married a dreamer," Roy smiled, but then he
straightened his face and turned back to his wife, "What has Joey
done now?"

"He refuses to leave his room. He's locked himself in and us out.
Keeps saying 'she said this' and 'she said that'...and he won't come
out until Jareth leaves."

"Then he's got a long wait." Roy said, indicating for Jareth to dump
his packages on the couch, "Well, it's 6:30. Think Capri Coast will
have a long wait?"

"Roy," Irene said lowly, so Jareth couldn't hear, although he
did, "We can't afford that place right now."

"Hey, don't worry--I got some extra cash." Roy smiled as he shrugged.

Irene crossed her arms, "How?"

"Don't worry about it. Grab your coat and let's go."

She didn't move but narrowed her eyes, "Roy Eliot Carlson, what did
you sell?"

He looked at her stubbornly, "It's none of your business."

"if you got rid of my aunt's..." She shouted as she headed up the
stairs to check.

"I sold my pistol, alright?"

She turned back sharply, then looked to Jareth, "Is that true?"

Jareth had no intention of becoming involved in this argument, so he
was brief, "If a pistol is a gun, then yes."

Irene raised her eyebrows in surprise, "It's about time you got rid
of that thing. Let's go."

Roy followed his wife out the door, taking the keys out of his
pockets to lock the door, but Jareth stopped him, finding it unusual
for them not to even consider reconciling with Joey, "What about your
son?"

"He's already made his decision. He's twelve, he can take care of
himself for a few hours." Then he shouted up the stairs, "We're goin'
out to Capri's."

A door opened upstairs and Joey shouted down, "He better not come
back with you!"

Jareth grinned, mildly amused with how much the boy despised him. He
shook his head to himself as he followed Roy to the car; who could
have told Joey such stories of the Goblin King was a mystery to him.
He hadn't taken any children for twelve years, as far as he could
remember, so who ever had told the boy was probably one of the last
to wish a child away. It couldn't possibly be someone who had been
wished away, for no one had been able to conqueror his Labyrinth. But
Jareth could see why he would be so hated if one was only told he
stole children and turned them into goblins on purpose;
misrepresented and misunderstood.