The Thief, the King, and the Son:
Chapter 1:  The King and a Thief

Sleep wasn’t something that came easily to the Goblin King, so he was quite surprised to find himself drifting into consciousness when he didn’t remember ever trying to sleep.  Jareth was even more perplexed to find that he was eighteen feet above the ground, reclining uncomfortably in the branches of a tree.

'Biting fairies; how did I get up here?  And where am I?  Certainly not the Labyrinth or anywhere in the Underground.'  

There were no ponds anywhere in his kingdom, but where ever he was now, there was one.  And the ground was covered in a foreign white substance, the sunlight reflecting brightly off it.  There was also a freezing wind that shook the branches, shifting them so much under Jareth that he had to grab onto them so as not to fall to the ground.  It was then that he noticed his attire; white gloves, white breeches and cape of feathers…something he would only wear if he were trying to impress someone, and he certainly didn’t remember knowing anyone worthy enough for that.  

He wished he knew how he had come to be where he was, wherever that was, but for the moment he pushed those thoughts aside and set to getting himself down.  Oddly, when he tried to transport himself to the ground through his magic, nothing worked.  In fact, he could not feel magic within himself nor anywhere around him.  What ever place this was, magic did not exist.  No matter, he could get down the manual way.  

He searched for his first move, stepping down to a branch three feet below himself while still anchoring his hands securely to the branch he had occupied until he felt sure enough to let go of it.  Three feet down, fifteen feet to go.  The branch closest to him from below was about four feet beneath him and about five feet away; if he was going to reach it he’d have to leap for it.  Calculating the energy he would need to get to it, he leapt and nearly missed.  His boots slipped when they made contact with the branch, causing him to fall on his back across it and then hit other branches as he fell to the ground.  

*

He was cold; that was the first sensation Jareth felt before he realized he was being moved; no one ever touched him unless he allowed it.  Immediately, like a bear trap, Jareth’s hand went for the neck of his assailant and squeezed, despite the pain the action caused in his own wrist.  The man’s round face went red from the pressure Jareth was adding to his neck as he frantically tried to pull away.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” the guy gargled, tossing something onto Jareth’s chest, “You can keep it.”

It was the golden pendant he always wore, his symbol of royalty.  Jareth threw the man off of him and sat up, the pendant falling to his lap, the chain undone.  He saw that the man still eyed the item as he placed it back around his neck. Jareth’s right wrist refused to twist like it normally should, making him grimace.

The man laughed, “I knew you looked like someone already mugged ya when I saw the blood, but…You got some chunk of gold there.  I wonder why they didn’t take it.”

Jareth stood with as much dignity as he could, noticing that he was in fact spotted with his own blood.  That in itself caught him off guard, for only great magic could cause even a scratch on him…but there was no magic here.  

The man again chuckled, causing Jareth’s brow to rise; no one dare laugh at him. That he even presumed he could speak to a king so informally was also bold. But the man was a criminal no doubt and likely didn’t care if he had a station to fit into; such low lives rarely did.  As Goblin King, Jareth was used to administering punishments for those caught doing crimes such as thievery.  He grinned; he might not have magic at the moment, but not every form of punishment required it.

“What are you anyway? You got no ID on you, no pockets,” the man laughed again, his breath forming a faint fog, “You loose your purse at the drag show?”

Jareth frowned and crossed his arms over his chest, cocking his head, “I have the vague notion you are trying to insult me.  You don’t want to do that.”

“Is that right?”

Jareth took a step forward, eyes glaring, causing the man to take a stumbling step backwards, surprise registering in his eyes, “Sorry-you do have some grip there.  I guess I shouldn’t piss you off.”

“You tried to rob me. I’m already pissed off.” Jareth said, stepping closer.

“Hey,” the man raised his hands in a defenseless manner, “I gave it back.  No harm done.”

“Still, the crime was attempted.  Its success or failure is irrelevant.”

Jareth saw that the man was preparing to sprint off but he caught his arm before he could bolt. “Get your stinkin’ hands off me!”

“I don’t think so.”

The man’s brown eyes registered anger, but then turned to confusion at how forceful Jareth was, “What do you want?”

“You will tell me what kingdom this is to begin.” When the man didn’t answer, he restated his request, raising his voice with his anger, “What is this land?”

“Virginia.”

“And who is king here?” He asked more civilly.

“Where are you from man?  I guess you do sound British.”

Jareth shook him, not sure if he had just been insulted, “What is that supposed to mean?”

“There is no king in America.”

“You said this land was Virginia.”

“Yeah, of the United States of America.  They don’t teach you about us over there?”

Jareth raised a brow, “Educate me.”

“Hey, what they taught me I learned 13 years of my life.  I can’t just tell it to you in five minutes.”

Jareth leaned in closer to him, “And who said you would be leaving so soon?”

“I’ve got a wife and kid waiting for me at home and…”

“Very convenient, then.  You will take me to your residence and there educate me.”

“Are you out of your gourd?” He violently yanked himself free of Jareth.

“No. I am out of my home, my world, and everything I know of my life.” Jareth spat with exasperation, but then cunningly added, “And you owe me a debt.”

“I owe…how?”

“As far as I am aware, thievery is a punishable crime--and believe me, I will enact the punishment myself unless you believe educating me in your ways is a suitable alternative.”

He blinked at Jareth, “You have got to be joking.”

“I’m quite serious.”

Placing his hands on his hips defiantly, the man sneered, “What the hell could you do to me?”

"Do you really want a demonstration?” Jareth narrowed his eyes, refusing to let his injuries distract him as he balled his fists.  He saw the challenge in the man's eyes and knew a confrontation was inevitable.  The sooner it would be over, the sooner he could get some straight information.  So he gave the man exactly what he wanted, "No, I shouldn't waste my time on a such pathetic lowlife..."

“That’s it!”  The man took a swing at Jareth, who easily dodged the blow and gave the guy a smarting punch to his lower back as he passed.  The man jerked his back, wincing in pain and cursing.  But he didn’t give up.  He attacked again, running like a ram into Jareth’s side, causing the Goblin King to momentarily falter when he was elbowed in his injured arm. But Jareth caught his footing and punched the man away.

“Shit.”  The man leaned over and placed his hands on his thighs as he tried to pull himself together.

“Do you accept my offer?” Jareth did his best to keep the pain he felt from affecting his voice.

“I’m not taking a freak home to my wife.” The man shouted.

“What did you call me?”

“You.are.a.freak.”

Jareth lowered his brow, “I’m not familiar with that term.”

“Are you from some other planet?”

Did Jareth want to tell this complete stranger that he was in a foreign world and would need a guide through it?  This man wasn’t his ideal choice, but Jareth supposed he had to start somewhere, especially when, at the moment, he wasn’t exactly sure where this America was.  Besides, he had no idea how long it would be until his magic would return so that he could go back to his own kingdom.

“I will admit I’m unfamiliar with this land." He took strong steps closer to his adversary, "I adivise that you take my offer or I may make you so bloody you wont be able to remember that you have a family to go home to.”

“I ain’t got a choice.  I know you’re stronger than me, even when injured. I’m gonna be the laughing stock of the block bringing you home.” He pointed to Jareth’s attire, “Why are you dressed like you just come from a drag show? You don’t seem the womanly type.”

“Did you just say I look like a woman?”

“Yeah, I did. Is that a problem?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever been so insulted my entire four thousand years.”

The man ran his fingers over his brow, saying as if an epiphany, “That’s it…I tried to rob a loony.” Seriously he asked, “What mental hospital did you come from? Do you know?”

“I am not insane, though I see nothing I say will convince you otherwise and I do not have means of proof.”

The man seemed to be more at ease, and he adjusted his jacket and placed his hands in the pockets, “How about some truth.”

“Truth to a criminal. Yes, that gives me all confidence; to trust the details of my situation with a thief.”

“Hey, it’s you who say I owe you a debt. You can kill me, I know you’re capable of at least that.  So I ain’t gonna make you say anything you don’t need to.”

“Agreed.” Jareth took a moment to ponder what to say now that the man was receptive, though he doubted the man would believe the truth if he stated it.  Jareth thought of a different approach, “How do I become presentable to your people?”

“That’s gonna be some job.” The man laughed.

“Then you will show me.”

“Are you serious?”

Jareth stopped himself from rolling his eyes at the man's attitude, “Learn this now.  I only say what I mean and I expect to be obeyed.”

“Obeyed--is that right?  And I suppose you are king wherever you are from?”

“Yes.”

The man took his hands out of his pockets and started walking away. “I am never robbin’ nobody again. You ARE insane. I’m gettin’ the cops.”

Jareth stopped him, “You will help me, or I will find you and make your life despondent.  It is your choice.”

He knocked Jareth’s hand from his shoulder, “You really DO think you are a king.”

“Because I am…or was.” Jareth grinned in thought, “You could say my whole problem is that I need to find a way back to my kingdom, to my world.  I don’t know how I ended away from it to begin with.”

“You ARENT from here.  Really, who are you?”

“The Goblin King, a fae from Underground.” The man laughed, making Jareth scowl, “You don’t believe me.”

“No--it’s that I do.  It makes sense now…the way you look.  My niece tells this story…” he laughed again, “Never thought I’d see a fairytale creature pop up in the real world. You got magic powers?”

“Not at the moment. It seems as though my magic was removed from me upon arrival to this world.  If I had it, I would have left this land the moment I took my pendant back instead of wasting my time with a common thief.”

The man was clearly insulted, “Hey, for your info Kingy, I don’t steal…often.  I just saw your gold gleaming and opportunity knocked.”

Jareth only nodded; as much an apology he would give the man, “I need to find a way back to my world. Will you help me?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“Yes, though I would appreciate having your assistance.  If you reacted so crudely at my appearance, I’m sure others will not take to my presence well. I would like that my identity remain anonymous.”

The man nodded in thought, then looked Jareth in the eyes, sticking out his hand, “Okay. Let’s start over again proper.  I’m Roy Carlson.”

Jareth took the man’s hand with a strong smile in his eyes, relieved he wouldn’t have to break the man further--or cause more injury to himself in the process, “Jareth.”

“Name fits you. Sounds kingy, but not like from a fairytale,” Roy laughed, “Imagine having to call you Rumplestiltskein.”

“What?”

“Some guy in a story.” Roy then looked Jareth over, “Well, first thing to do is get you new clothes.  That may be fine where you come from, but here it will only get you laughed at or hit on my men.”

Jareth cringed. “I certainly do not want that.”

“Good. I was kinda wonderin’….” Roy cleared his throat before he continued on, “Then you have a massive hair problem--in fact, scratch the other; we’ll take care of that first. Come on, follow me.”

Jareth had no hesitation. This fellow’s change of demeanor seemed sincere enough, and the king certainly did not want to be left alone when he was so alien to the place.  

They walked through the park until they reached a street lined with parking meters and a few vehicles.  Roy led him to a brown two-door car with its share of rusty spots.

“Go ahead and get in. It’s unlocked.”

Jareth was unfamiliar with such a contraption, but he saw others like it in motion as they passed by with passengers inside.  He noticed Roy indicate with his head for him to go around to the other side of the car.  Imitating Roy's action, he pulled on a metal lever and the door opened.  He lowered himself inside and sat uncomfortably because the leather chair was quite warm from sitting under the sun.  Roy grabbed a hold of the wheel that was in front of him and inserted a metal key into some type of lock.  The second he turned the key, music started from thin air and the car shook a little as the engine started and then began to move.  Jareth kept himself composed despite being curious as to how all this was possible without magic. Roy pressed a button on a box with numbers that was next to the wheel and the music changed to a man talking about something called the Dou Jones Industrial Average.

“You do know all of this will cost a pretty penny,” Roy stated, glancing at Jareth out of the corner of his eye.

“What do you believe the price will be?”

“More than I can help you with…I’m sure you’ve figured that since I was trying to rob you.”

Jareth blinked and fingered his pendant, staring at the vehicle ahead of them, “What would you have done with it?”

“Pawned it.  That thing--if it is solid gold--I think maybe you could get $150 for it.  It would get you a few pair of jeans, one suit…You’ll need a suit to find a job.  I’m sure no one will care if you get your things from Walmart.”

Jareth lifted his pendent off his chest and looked down at it. This heirloom was a symbol of his royalty, a sign he was a king; and suddenly he realized he wasn’t one here.  As far as he knew, he was stuck in this world, and if that was permanent, there was no way he could ever be king again.  This was the only symbol he had that told who he really was and he never wanted to forget that. “No.  I’ll find some other way to pay.”

“If you’ve got some other gold on you or other ways to get money, I’d love to know.”  At Jareth’s silence, Roy frowned and turned his head at him, “You ain’t plannin’ on sellin’ yourself, are you?”

“In no way.” Jareth snapped, angered at such a perverse inquiry.

“Sorry. I just don’t see what choice you have.  What ever that thing means to you, you have to sell it.  You can always get it back when you make enough cash.”

“Can you guarantee this?”

“Sure.  I know this guy, he’ll keep it for us.  I’ve been good to him--he trusts me.”

“I certainly hope so, for your sake.”

“You say that as though you’ve got some power. This ain’t your kingdom and if you keep speaking with that attitude, no one is going to listen to you.”  At Jareth’s continued silence, Roy raise his voice, “God, do you understand what it is I’m telling you?”

“I do.”  Yes, he understood.  He had to give up everything he had known of himself for four thousand years.  He had no choice but to become the most primitive being he could think of; mortal.