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anne-chloe · 28 days

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Underground | XI |

Jareth/The Goblin King x F! Reader

Summary : Time is running out, and Jareth has invited you to dance to help make up your mind.

There's only 1 hour left.

You had only 1 hour left to decide about Jareth's confession; about the future he was proposing for you. He could bring you whatever you desired, and all you had to do was serve him, and he would serve you.

You twisted the crystal ball mindlessly in your fingers, only half watching Harry as he scouted the final stretch of the labyrinth. He was surrounded by material junk; navigating through items that used to be nostalgic and familiar, but now only served purpose to distract him. You couldn't focus on him; you could only focus on what he had done, how he had driven you to wish him away to the goblins, how he drove you to want revenge for his betrayal.

Could you really do it? Could you really abandon the life you had made for yourself in return for everything you desired? Wasn't that seen as selfish?

You thought hard about your parents, who lived in another part of the country. They would obviously miss you, but they wouldn't notice that you were gone until you'd stop returning their calls. Would Harry tell them about your choice? Would he call you selfish? Would he inform them that you had betrayed him in return for his initial betrayal? And if you were to return home again, what would become of your life, and what would become of the Goblin King?

You'd loved Harry once. You'd given yourself to him and you'd doted on him. Harry was never a bad person until he chose another; he'd always cared for you, treated you well. He had supported your dreams despite his aggressive argument; he'd encouraged you through the tough trials of life. Harry was your rock once, the root of your existence. He was familiar and all that you knew of adult relationships. Of partnerships.

You could easily leave Jareth's world and return with Harry. You could work things out about his infidelity. You could mend your relationship.

But did you really want that?

There was only 40 minutes left.

Harry was only part way through the junkyard. The Goblin City loomed in the distance. It was far more menacing than what you remembered. It looked like a barren wasteland, born to be intimidating to anybody that dared to trespass there.

You chewed on your bottom lip while curling yourself up on Jareth's throne. The throne room was completely empty; the goblins had scattered the moment Jareth ordered them away, allowing you the time you needed to be with your thoughts.

The goblins.

Could you truly live in coexistence with them? They had been human once, only now they were stripped of their humanity. You wondered if you'd grow accustomed to their trickster tendencies. If you'd grow fond of their presence. Jareth seemed mildly annoyed at times with them, but all the same he must enjoy their company or else he wouldn't keep them.

30 minutes.

Harry's leg was stuck inside a box. He toppled forwards and aggressively tried to scramble free, his mouth moving fast as he yelled in frustration.

Had he always been so...

Aggressive?

You couldn't recall a time where he'd ever raised his voice at you before, nor to anyone within your presence. This could easily be the cause of your betrayal to him; it could easily be the result of his betrayal to you. This development could have been brewing the entire time he met with Casey, when he'd shower her in the same affections that he once gave to you only.

The door opened to your right. You trailed from your thoughts and sat yourself upright, watching curiously as a beat trail of goblins entered in almost silence. They whispered and muttered amongst themselves, seeming nervous yet excited. You tucked the crystal ball into your pocket and stood up from your seat, wondering what was about to happen.

"Yous is need'd now," the tallest goblin announced after dramatically clearing his throat. The other goblins nodded enthusiastically in alliance, muttering encouragement to have you follow them. "Time be short."

"Okay. Where am I needed, exactly?" You asked, gently stepping down from the throne and shuffling awkwardly after the small group of goblins. They guided you out of the throne room and to the immediate right.

"To Him," the chunkiest goblin chortled. "He wants you."

Him. They must mean Jareth. With the time almost over, you figured he must want your answer. Your hand brushed absently over your pocket, and thoughts of Harry flashed in your mind again.

You weren't scared. You were confused. Is this the life you wanted for yourself? To be a servant yet to be served?

The goblins led you into a room larger than you could fully comprehend. You gasped in admiration for the luxurious decoration. Expensive cloth was draped in every inch; gold, silver and glitter woven seamlessly into the room. People dressed in ball gowns and tailored suits danced and twirled, their voices sounding muffled, but growing clearer as you took timid steps further.

They wore masks that depicted goblin structure, all with various shapes. Some with long noses; others with droopy eyes.

"What is this?" You managed to ask, now turning around to face the goblins who had guided you here. But you fell quiet and startled as they were no longer there. You faced the way you had come, only to be staring directly into a curved mirror. The door was no longer there. You watched as couples twirled behind you, and suddenly your mind felt hazy, like you were experiencing a dream.

You no longer looked rough and tired. Instead, you were dressed up in the finest of gowns. Light blue and embedded with jewels; the skirt was heavy looking, yet as you swished your waist it felt incredibly light. The shoulders were a type of mesh material, and it was completely sleeveless. Your arms were protected by silk gloves, which matched the colour scheme you had been dressed in. Your makeup was simple yet elegant, and your hair was half up, half down, woven with the same jewels and glitter that decorated your dress. A small tiara perched on your head.

You frowned at the realisation that you weren't weary a mask like everyone else.

You slowly turned around, a worry cascading over you as various eyes finally found your form. You took tentative steps into the room, straightening out your shoulders and keeping your head held high. But you were okay—this felt no different than walking on stage in front of hundreds of people in an audience. The only difference is that there was no script, no guidance on what to say or do.

20 minutes remained for Harry.

You explored the ballroom in a hidden childish delight. You'd always dreamed of being swept away in the elegance of a masquerade ball; something straight out of a fairy tale. You were briefly reminded of Cinderella when she met her Prince Charming, and how they danced so beautifully throughout the night—until the clock struck twelve and the magic started to lift.

Would the magic vanish at the thirteenth hour?

You listened to the other dancers as they spoke with one another, their voices joyous and happy. They shared tales of their adventures; memories that made one another smile and snicker. Their words created a familiarity inside you, recognising their personalities as those of your beloved cast mates and friends.

"... hiccuped during her monologue!" One of the patrons finished with a howling laugh, her smile wide and rather contagious. You stifled a laugh with your hand gently pressed to your lips, your shoulders shaking at the fond memory that had you enraptured. "The audience was none the wiser. Yet she maintained an elegance that nobody could possess."

Yes, you could recall that very moment fondly. You had been tasked with a tricky role, one that needed a lot of emotion. The monologue was situated in between the main number of songs; it was the breakaway that allowed the scene to have a rapid change. You had to pace yourself, yet you had to remain in time with the steady beat of music that helped to guide your flow of words. As soon as the monologue finished, you went straight into belting with raw emotion. It had taken the audience by storm, and the ending drew standing ovation from all around.

Your cast mates had been incredibly supportive once the show was over, reassuring you that the hiccup had only created an incredible effect on the audience. Even the director was impressed, and questioned if it had been intentional. It wasn't. You had simply forgot to breathe at a certain point and caused a ripple in your lungs.

A happy accident.

You withdrew from the conversation as their voices became distant. Their topic switched to something else. You delved into the sidelines, where many groups had broken off into couples. You eyed them all in wonder, trying to figure out features from under their masks that concealed their identities. They, too, watched you in return, yet they did not seem to be judgemental.

They looked as though they were admiring you.

And then you saw him.

Across the room stood Jareth. Surrounding him were more patrons donned in goblin themed masks and luxurious ball gowns and suits. They whispered in his ear, they whispered to each other; they swarmed him like he was a God. Their God.

Your God.

Jareth had been watching you the entire time. And when you finally spotted him, he made his way towards you. There was no chase; no words spoken. He guided you to the main floor, and he whisked you away in a beautifully intimate dance. You blinked in awe at his ethereal beauty, and your breathing almost hitched as his heart beat so close to your own chest.

"How are you enjoying your party?" Jareth leaned in to whisper in your ear. Your fingers curled into his jacket, a smile pulling at your lips at the giddiness that spread throughout your body like a welcoming warmth.

"My party?" You repeated curiously.

"All of this is for you, my precious dear," Jareth explained. "With time running out, I wanted to help sway your mind."

That's right, you hadn't yet fully decided on what to do. Return with Harry, or remain with Jareth.

There was 10 minutes left.

"It's wonderful," you said. Jareth stepped away and twirled you with expertise, then promptly pulled you back into his arms. "You've truly outdone yourself."

Jareth chuckled lightly. "I can do so much more," he assured softly, yet the power in his voice was glaringly obvious. "All you have to do is say the words your heart desires to be spoken."

"And then what?"

"And then you can stay forever."

"Forever," you repeated quietly.

Jareth leaned down and pressed his lips to the knuckles on your hand. You flushed at the gesture, feeling the warmth in your chest grow. It was like he knew he was having this effect on you—and the cheeky smile suggested that he revelled in it. You couldn't deny that you weren't enjoying yourself, nor that you felt intoxicated with the power you held with your decision.

You could openly deny him, or you could accept him. The choice was entirely yours. Jareth wasn't forcing you to choose him, but his eyes were almost pleading. He wanted you to choose him. And deep down, you wanted to choose him too.

"[Name]!"

5 minutes left.

Jareth whisked you away again, his eyes flashing something serious as he hid you away in the crowd of people. You twisted your head to find the owner of the voice, the familiar voice that made your stomach lurch in worry. But Jareth kept Harry out of sight, out of your view so he couldn't sway your own thoughts again. Jareth wanted your focus to be entirely on him.

The music turned rather upbeat, and more patrons swarmed the main floor with an excited eagerness. Their bodies mingled closely together, like a wall that prevented Harry from pushing deeper to find you. You could hear him holler your name, sounding desperate and frantic. You caught sight of his hair before Jareth turned you around again, and your eyes met with his mismatched ones.

"Forever isn't long at all," Jareth whispered. You didn't have to strain to hear him. It was like his voice was already planted inside your mind. Like he was already connected to you. But he, too, sounded desperate for your choice. "Stay with me, my precious dear, my [Name]. Rule by me—serve me... I will give you everything that you desire."

That's exactly what you wanted. All you had to say is the words he wanted to hear, and your wish would come true.

You would be leaving behind your friends and family. You would be leaving behind the life you had worked so hard to create. But did any of that matter anymore?

"Please," you firmly asked, "I wish to—"

A hand grabbed your shoulder and tore you away from the arms of the Goblin King. You gasped and fell back, Harry now in front of you and almost eye-to-eye with Jareth.

"Harry, no!" You shouted, but your words fell on deaf ears as the ballroom started to crumble. The patrons began to morph back into their goblin forms, their harsh sneers and snarls drowning out your begging to be heard.

30 seconds.

"You have no power over us," Harry growled in fury, "for I know what you are. Fae. "

The floor vanished from underneath you. And suddenly you were falling. Plummeting. Downwards at a frighteningly fast pace. You opened your mouth to scream as the darkness engulfed you in its jaws, but no sound came out.

#fan fiction #angst #female reader #fantasy #jareth #the goblin king #goblins #labyrinth #labyrinth 1986 #ballrooms #masquerade ball #masquerade

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