Of Pineapples and Kings: Part 2

The atmosphere on the street was electric. The moon was rising, the sugar consumption was high, and Sarah could not stop smiling as Jareth deftly maneuvered them through the crowds of children.

“Try not to snatch anyone,” she said mischievously.

Jareth sighed sadly. “But there are so many that take my fancy. Particularly that one,” he said, pointing to the boy dressed as a pineapple who had almost fallen backwards under the weight of his leafy headdress.

As they walked around a tree, a small boy in a white gown ran into Jareth, who reached down reflexively to steady him. Jareth took one look at the boy’s white painted face and grimaced. “Good lord! Has someone drained all the blood from this poor child?”

Sarah smirked. “He’s a ghost.”

“I’m dead!” the child said gleefully.

Jareth bent down toward the child. “Don’t worry, I shall avenge you,” he said, solemnly.

The kid’s eyes widened. “Cool!”

Jareth smirked as the child ran off toward the house next door. Sarah grinned up at the King and then looked around, trying to decide upon their first trick-or-treating target. She led Jareth to a nearby house and then stopped.

“Ok, your Majesty, the time has come. You’ll need this for your candy,” she said, giving him one of the grocery bags.

Jareth gave the bag a rather distasteful look. With a sly smirk, he shook it once, twice, and then once more for good measure. Sarah blinked. The bag was now as dark as Jareth’s costume and made of something mysterious and velvety. Not surprisingly, it was also rich in glitter.

“Much more appropriate,” he said, eyeing the bag in satisfaction.

Sarah rolled her eyes. Only Jareth would make his trick-or-treating bag more sinister to match his outfit. She tapped her foot impatiently.

“If you have quite finished accessorizing there, Halloween Barbie, it’s time for you to climb the stairs, knock on the door and say ‘trick or treat’. Do you think you can manage that?”

He looked at her disdainfully. “I’m the Master of the Labyrinth, the ruler of an Otherworldly kingdom, and a wizard of the highest order. Somehow, I think that asking a mortal for a piece of confectionary is well within my capabilities.” He bent closer to her until his lips were beside her ear.  “And don’t think that I missed your wretched doll reference. There will be retribution for that later in the evening.”

With a twirl of his cloak, Jareth climbed up the steps and pounded his gauntleted fist on the door three times. He then placed his hands on his hips in a rather menacing manner and waited. Within a few seconds, the door was opened by a young woman dressed as Little Red Riding Hood.

“Trick,” announced Jareth.

Sarah sighed and hurried up the steps to stand beside him.

“Or treat,” Sarah said quickly.

Jareth scowled at her. “Must we provide her with options?”

Sarah ignored the King and smiled up at Red Riding Hood who, in turn, smiled in a rather awe-struck fashion at the King. This state of affairs continued for some time, until Jareth broke the silence.

“Madam, you have thirteen seconds in which to give us treats before I resort to egging your house as tradition demands.”

Sarah looked at the woman apologetically. “He’s new at this.”

Red Riding Hood, however, seemed delighted. “Of course I’ll give you treats! Just give me a second.”

She quickly left the doorway and then returned with bowls filled with apples and candy.

“Here,” she said, putting treats into Sarah and Jareth’s bags. She looked at Jareth rather longingly. “Would you like to stay and have some cider?” she asked the King, pointedly ignoring Sarah.

Jareth flashed her a rather wolfish smile. “Unfortunately not. We have several more houses to pillage.”

“Oh,” she said, clearly disappointed.

Red Riding Hood continued to stare at Jareth; Jareth, in turn, stared into his sinister bag, trying to make out what he had been given. Sarah stared at both of them and hoped that the rest of the doors down the street would be opened by heterosexual males impervious to the King’s physical charms.

After a few awkward moments, Sarah decided it was time to go. “Ah, thanks and Happy Halloween,” Sarah said to the fawning Red Riding Hood. She turned to Jareth. “Ahh, Jareth? Are you going to say goodbye?”

He made a dismissive hand gesture. “Yes, yes, Halloween tra la la,” he said distractedly, still looking into his bag.

Sarah tugged on his arm and he followed her back down to the sidewalk. She grinned, watching the curious King riffle through his bag. “What did you get?” She looked into her own bag. “I got an apple and three candy bars.”

Jareth reached into his bag and pulled out a candy bar. “Apparently, I got a Butterfinger,” he said, reading the yellow wrapper. “Tell me—does this actually contain a severed appendage dipped in dairy spread?”

Sarah laughed. “It’s just candy, I’m afraid. No fingers, no butter. Sorry if that’s a disappointment.”

“It is somewhat,” he admitted. Nevertheless he unwrapped the Butterfinger bar and started to eat the treat quite happily.

“What else did you get?” she asked, peering into his bag.

“More confectionery, an apple and this.” Jareth pulled out a piece of cardboard. “A series of numbers.” He looked at it disdainfully. “Frankly, it doesn’t look particularly palatable.”

Sarah snorted. “It’s Riding Hood’s phone number. She must have really liked your costume.” Sarah looked inside her bag. “I should probably check my apple—she probably spiked it with razorblades.” Shrugging, she took a piece of candy from her bag and popped it into her mouth.

Jareth gave a sharp little smile. “Despite Red Riding Hood’s rather understandable fascination with me,” Sarah almost choked on her candy, “her treats were fairly paltry. I do believe that we are within our rights to go back and trick her.”

Sarah coughed a little to clear her throat. “As much as I would like to do that, I think we should move on. You never know—the next house could be the one that you get to egg.”

Jareth brightened up at the thought and offered her his arm again. They strolled up the street, trick-or-treating and leaving a glittery trail in their wake. By the end of the street, their sacks were heavy with candy and Jareth was slightly disgruntled.

“How does anyone ever get to play a trick when everyone gives out treats?” he complained.

“People prefer receiving treats than doing tricks,” she explained for the fourth time.

He snorted. “That is clearly a matter of opinion.”

As they walked down the street, Sarah had the distinct impression that they were being followed. She stopped, looking around until she spied several oddly shaped shadows gathered around the trunk of an old elm tree. One of the shadows waved at her. Jareth sighed.

“Home,” he commanded the shadows. “Now.”  

“But Majesty, look at all the treasures we are gathering!” one of the shadows said proudly.

“We’re rich!” said another.

A dirty pillowcase appeared followed by three small goblins, one of whom had a jack-o-lantern on his head complete with burning candle.

Jareth looked at the goblin wearing the jack-o-lantern. “Nice hat,” he said dryly.

The goblin patted it happily. “It’s orange,” he said happily.

Jareth rubbed his hand wearily over his eyes.

Sarah’s lips twisted. She walked up to the goblins and peered inside their pillowcase. The bag was stuffed with candy as well as several twigs, a large plastic spider, half of a fake moustache, and what looked like the remains of a cheese platter.

Sarah grinned. “They’re doing better than we are.”

Jareth’s eyes opened and then narrowed. “That is completely unacceptable.”

Sarah laughed and turned back to the goblins. “This isn’t treasure, it’s candy. You’re supposed to eat it.”

The goblins looked dubiously at the items in the pillowcase. One pulled out the plastic spider and took a large bite, chewing methodically.

“Not bad!” the goblin said, pleased. He then proceeded to cough up one of the legs.

Sarah grimaced. “That’s enough of that,” she said, pulling the remains of the spider away. She handed him a candy bar.

“Try this instead,” she said helpfully.

The goblin popped the whole bar in his mouth, wrapper and all.

“Mmm, it tastes nutty and plastic-y all at once,” he said approvingly, rubbing his small stomach.

Another goblin nibbled on the fake mustache. “It’s an acquired taste, isn’t it? It reminds me a little of smoked rodent.”

Jareth pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Home,” he commanded.

“But…,” the goblins wheedled.

“Or there is always the bog…,” Jareth said in a frighteningly pleasant voice.

“What’s the third option?” asked the goblin who was still chewing on the wrapped candy bar.

“Certain death.”

The goblins looked at each other. “I think we’ll go home,” said the goblin eating the mustache.

Jareth crossed his arms. “What an uncharacteristically intelligent choice! I’d be even more impressed if his head wasn’t about to burst into flame,” he said pointing to the pumpkin-hatted goblin whose jack-o-lantern was starting to scorch. The goblin patted it happily.

Jareth sighed. “Home,” he said sternly.

“Okay, bye,” they said, waving reluctantly. With a small popping sound, the goblins and their pillowcase of assorted horrors disappeared.

“Is it too much to ask to have a bloody night off once in a while?” Jareth muttered to himself.

Sarah patted his arm consolingly. Shaking his head, the King led Sarah toward a bench and they sat down. A small boy dressed as the devil ran past, clutching one of his horns in his hand; the other was twisted at a rather odd angle on his head.

“Mom!” he yelled. “My horns are loose!”

Jareth tsked. “Oh how the mighty have fallen,” he said sardonically. “All hail the Dark Lord!” he called after the boy.

“I’m not even going to ask,” Sarah said, riffling through her candy.

“It’s probably best,” Jareth agreed, spinning one of his apples from hand to hand.

“Sarah! Sarah! Over here!”

Sarah looked up and saw Claire, one of her neighbors, waving at her from across the street. She turned to Jareth. “Stay here, I just have to talk to a friend for a moment. I’ll be right back, ok?”

“Very well,” he said, crossing one black booted ankle over the other.

She put her trick-or-treat bag down next to him on the bench. “And don’t take any of my candy!”

Jareth attempted to look innocent. “Really Sarah, would I…” he stopped when he saw her expression and shrugged. “Things typically taste better when they have been pilfered from others.”

She shook her finger warningly at him and then went to join her neighbor. Claire, dressed as a rather pregnant hippie, gave her a warm hug.

“Wow!” said Claire, looking at Sarah from head to toe. “You really went all out! Check out your costume!”

Sarah shrugged, not even bothering to look down at her outfit. “It’s just an old thing that I had hidden away on top of my closet.”

Claire gave her an odd look that Sarah didn’t see—she was too busy keeping an eye on Jareth. While she and Claire talked about Claire’s pregnancy and Sarah’s new job, Sarah watched as one-by-one, children began to walk toward the Goblin King. They appeared to be drawn to him like moths to a slightly sinister flame, flocking around him as if he were some kind of riding-crop-wielding, stray-goblin-kicking, dubious-hairstyle-sporting, Halloween version of Santa Claus. They pulled on his cloak or took his gloved hand, shyly showing him their costumes and telling him all about the treats they had collected.

Sarah noticed that Jareth was completely in his element, regally bestowing his attention on the small crowd of assorted ghouls and beasties and laughing at their antics. At one point, she looked up to see Jareth and the children performing a song-and-dance number that involved the odd levitating child and a lot of strutting by the King, much to the appreciation of the women who were walking past. She was a little concerned when Jareth pulled out the crystals, but relaxed when it became apparent that he was only juggling them for the children’s amusement and not promising to swap them for any spare siblings that they may have lying around.

After a while, Sarah said goodbye to Claire and walked toward Jareth’s little court. She stood on the fringes as Jareth and a small vampire compared their fangs.

“Mine are longer,” the boy said triumphantly, pulling out his plastic teeth and holding them up near Jareth’s mouth, just to make sure.

Jareth tapped his own impressively pointy teeth. “Yes, but mine are forever.”

“Hmm, I guess so,” the boy conceded rather wistfully. He popped his teeth back in and playfully bit the werewolf standing beside him.

“Oww! You’re pointy!” the werewolf cried.

“Agh! You’re hairy!” the vampire squealed.

Jareth and the rest of the children laughed as the vampire valiantly tried to spit stray bits of fluff from his mouth.

Jareth held up his hand for silence. “The moral of that little episode, my fine fellows, is not to lick or bite furry beasts of any form.” He paused. “Unless they lick or bite you first.”

The kids nodded solemnly at that bit of wisdom. Sarah tried very hard not to smile.

“Now,” said Jareth, turning to a boy next to him. “What are you dressed as?” He looked curiously at the large pieces of green styrofoam that had been stapled over the boy’s green shirt and pants. “Are you supposed to be some kind of disease?”

“I’m not a disease!” the child said indignantly. “I’m the Hulk!” He began to growl menacingly while striking muscleman poses.

Jareth tapped his finger against his lips. “I could use a Hulk,” he said thoughtfully.

“Really?” asked the boy. He growled a little more for good measure.

Sarah suppressed a smile. “You don’t need a Hulk. You have goblins, false alarms, fieries, helping hands, biting fairies, and Ludo.”

Jareth waved his hand dismissively. “One could always find room for a Hulk.”

The boy beamed and growled a little more.

Sarah shook her head and held out her hand. “Come on, your Majesty, let’s go before you start recruiting.”

They waved goodbye to the children and continued to walk down the street, pausing to watch a rather feisty Snow White gleefully smack down a small Jedi Knight who had tried to steal her candy. Before long, they found themselves face-to-face with the boy dressed as a pineapple. Close up, Sarah could see that his costume was rather well made, with lots of wicked pineapple-like spikes jutting out all around the spongy orange material. The Pineapple Boy was holding the hand of a very small girl dressed as a ladybug who was obviously his sister.

The Pineapple Boy took one look at Jareth’s outfit and whistled. “Wow! Awesome costume. Who are you supposed to be?”

Jareth placed his hands on his hips and strutted a little for the boy’s benefit. “I am the Goblin King.”

The Pineapple Boy nodded, impressed. “I like your armor.”

“I’m rather fond of it myself.”

The Pineapple Boy turned to Sarah. “Are you supposed to be a princess?”

The tiny ladybug pulled on his arm. “No silly! She is not a princess, she is his Queen.”

Sarah blushed and opened her mouth to deny it, but Jareth smiled broadly and bent down to look at the child eye-to-eye.

“My, my, aren’t you a clever little girl? Here, have an appendage,” he said, handing the tiny ladybug a Butterfinger.

“Thank you, Mr King!” she said in a sing-song voice.

Jareth stood up and looked over at the Pineapple Boy. He tapped his finger against his chin a moment and then handed him a candy bar too.

The Pineapple Boy smiled. “Thanks!”

Jareth leaned a little closer to the Pineapple Boy. “May I ask—why a pineapple? It really isn’t a particularly masculine fruit.”

The Pineapple Boy smirked. “I told my Mom that I liked pineapples. But honestly, I chose it because the skin is spiky.”

As he spoke, a girl dressed as Wonder Woman bumped into him.

“Owww!!!” she yelled, clutching her arm.

“See!” the Pineapple boy said gleefully, putting the candy bar into his bag.

Jareth gave the boy an admiring glance. “Truly diabolical.”

The King and the Pineapple Boy shared a knowing look. Sarah shook her head and, waving goodbye to the children, led Jareth away.

“I do believe that boy is a kindred spirit,” Jareth said thoughtfully.

Sarah nodded. “Which is why I am taking you away right now—I’m worried about what you two could accomplish if you ever decided to team up.”

Jareth laughed and placed Sarah’s hand on his arm. “This has been rather delightful.”

“Better than goblin orgies?” she asked mischievously.

Jareth groaned. “Please Sarah, I just ate a Buttertoe,” he said, placing his hand over his stomach.

“Butterfinger”

“Whatever.” They walked a little further to the top of the street where the houses ended and shops began.  “Perhaps I could institute a form of trick-or-treating in the Goblin Kingdom next Halloween,” Jareth mused. “It would stop them from doing it up here and creating some catastrophe of moronic proportions.”

Sarah thought about that. “What would the goblins dress up as? Children?”

He smirked. “Perhaps. No doubt they would completely misunderstand the entire concept. Start calling it ‘trick-or-chicken’, or some such thing.”

Sarah visualized drunk goblin hordes going from door-to-door asking for chickens. She grimaced. “What happens if they don’t get their chickens? You’d have an entire night of tricking. It might lead to more casualties than the naked bonfire dancing.”

Jareth blinked. “I don’t know whether to be excited by that thought or completely horrified. Probably an unholy combination of the two.” Jareth stopped when they reached the end of the street. “Would you like to go home now, Sarah?”

But Sarah wasn’t listening. She was staring at her reflection in the window of a shop. Mesmerized, she reached up and touched her hair; where there had been a coronet of crushed silk flowers there was now a crown wrought of silver and stars. She let her fingers trail down to her dress; where there had been an old costume, tight and a somewhat wrinkled, there was now a gown of heavy silk, spun with gems and gold. As she watched, the King appeared behind her; he bowed his wild golden head in tribute to her beauty and lifted her hand, brushing a warm kiss against her inner wrist.

“Have I been dressed like this all night?” she asked. But she already knew the answer.

Jareth smiled a rather predatory smile. He dipped his head toward her, his lips grazing her earlobe in a decidedly adult way.

Say your right words, Sarah thought, on the edge of the precipice all over again.

Jareth’s gloved fingers began to caress the long, pale column of her throat and Sarah’s heart threatened to break-free of her ribcage.

Say…

“She is not a princess,” he said, his breath warm against her ear. “She is his Queen.”

And Sarah fell.

Jareth’s lips tasted the soft skin behind her ear, and then his tongue found a place on her neck that made her close her eyes and arch just so. And Sarah moaned because it was just that exquisite.

Still, she thought she should make some kind of token resistance.

“Is that so?” she asked, in a rather queenly manner.

But when she saw the look in his eyes—a look of overwhelming, hard-won joy and just a hint of happy-ever-afters—she ruined her queenly façade by smiling at him and reaching up to smooth the harsh angles of his cheekbones and the tense line of his jaw.

“Of course, precious thing,” he practically purred, so obviously undone by her attentions. He tilted his head, the breeze tossing the strands of his wild blonde hair over his shoulder. “Did you ever doubt it?”

And the odd thing was that she never had, though the waiting really had become tiresome. About that…

“It took you long enough,” she said pointedly.

Jareth gave her a rather sardonic look. “Would you have allowed me to ravish you the first time that you found me sitting on ‘The Chair’?”

And suddenly she understood. It had been the ballroom all over again; she had chased him until he had caught her. Though this time, there wasn’t any reason to grab a chair and make a break for it. The thought made her irrationally happy.

Sarah shook her head and grinned. “No, I wouldn’t have. But that doesn’t mean that I’m not amenable to the idea now.”

Jareth seemed to growl a little at that comment and the sound triggered a tingly, shivery, warm feeling along every nerve-ending in Sarah’s body. Not wanting to lose another second, she turned and threw her arms around his shoulders. But when she attempted to move closer, she encountered an obstruction.

“Ahh,” she said, looking down at his chest, “your costume really isn’t helping the romance here.”

Jareth looked down at his chest distastefully. “I agree. Armor isn’t particularly conducive to amorous activities.”

Sarah suddenly felt the armor give, and she was soon pulled tight against a hard chest clad in something very soft.

“This is much more conducive to amorous activities,” she said happily, letting her fingers roam over the warm skin of his throat, slipping downward to trace his pendant.

Jareth closed his eyes and sighed blissfully as Sarah’s fingers wandered over the smooth planes of his chest. “Nudity would have been even more conducive, but I had to think of the children.”

“Ahh yes. The children. We wouldn’t want to scare them on Halloween,” she said sardonically.

Jareth laughed and opened his eyes. “My Sarah,” he said huskily and began to scatter warm kisses over her cheeks, her jaw, the curve of her throat.

Sarah arched back and looked up at the stars. She wanted to simply melt into his caresses but there was something that she had to clarify. She cleared her throat.

“I suppose you have to go back to the Underground to make an appearance at your own Halloween celebrations?

He pulled away, shocked. “What? Are you sending me away Sarah? You would have me join the dancing and the drinking and the orgies?”

“Jareth,” she said cupping his face in her hands. “If I though that there was even a possibility that you would be going to one of those things tonight, I would never have let you get this close to me,” she said meaningfully.

“Damn,” he muttered. “You already know me too well. I’m not sure if I approve.”

Sarah stroked his cheek. “I’d push you into the bonfire myself before I’d let you dance around naked with other women.” She smiled sweetly.

“Be still my heart,” he said dryly.  “What a charming declaration of love! I shall treasure it always.” But despite his tone, he looked inordinately pleased.

Sarah embraced the King, standing on tip toes until her lips were near his ear. “Perhaps we could start a new Halloween tradition? Something between us? I am willing to compromise,” she whispered.

Jareth shivered a little and pulled her closer, so close that she could feel warmth of his chest through her gown. “Let me just say right now that when it comes to our Halloween celebrations, I am willing to compromise on the feasting and the bonfire dancing and the drunken revelry, but I am completely unwilling to compromise on the debauchery. The debauchery stays. In fact, I suggest that we introduce more debauchery.”

Sarah was inclined to agree. And when Jareth saw the answer in her eyes, he almost crowed with triumph. Instead, he bent and kissed her—a wild brush of his lips against hers that had her fisting her hands into the silk of his hair and pulling him closer, deeper, within her. Everything his eyes had promised, his kiss delivered, dragging a response from her that was so fierce, so elemental, that she feared that she would physically hurt him if he tried to stop kissing her. Her fervent response only spurred Jareth on; he lifted her easily and crushed her against his body so that she was almost fused to his form; she could feel his heartbeat against her own chest; his low growl of pleasure seemed to vibrate through her very cells.

When they were finally forced to end the kiss, Sarah felt his loss like a physical blow, but he soothed her with soft caresses and small kisses to the corners of her mouth.  

“I will give you many treats this evening, precious, precious thing,” he promised huskily. “Anything. Everything. Yours.”

Sarah smiled a hazy, love-drunk smile at his words. She thought his promise was only fair; after all, he still owed her for taking the last cookie. But before she could reply, Jareth, looking wild and heartbreakingly joyous, took her hand and swept her into a frenzied waltz along the deserted street.  

The Pineapple Boy and the tiny ladybug watched the royal couple dance as if they were in a ballroom made of crystal rather than a street littered with wrappers and leaves. And then, in the space of an eye-blink, the laughing couple disappeared, leaving only a trail of glitter which the breeze gathered up and carried off toward the stars.

“Where did they go?” the Pineapple Boy asked, trying to dislodge a ghost, a skeleton, and a Teenage Mutant Ninja turtle who were all stuck to his spikes.

“Home,” said the tiny ladybug, smiling.