Chapter Text
Jareth stomped through the forest, pushing aside branches with more force than necessary, his face set in a scowl. Behind him, Randel and Garthan exchanged amused glances, well aware of their friend’s mood. It was their third day of foraging duty, and Jareth, for all his princely dignity, was not taking it well.
“This is ridiculous,” Jareth muttered under his breath. “We’re warriors now! Trained, tested, and ready for real missions. And what does Papa have us doing? Gathering mushrooms and berries.”
Garthan tried to soften Jareth’s frustration. “It’s not like we’re foraging for fun, Jareth. We’re helping our people. We’ve been running low on supplies since the last Fae raid, remember?”
Randel, who was trailing slightly behind, sighed, rolling his eyes. “Besides, not every warrior mission is going to involve fighting battles or rescuing fair maidens. Sometimes you have to start small.”
Jareth shot him a look of irritation. “Small? I wouldn’t mind small if it weren’t so… dull. I mean, do you really think they need three of us out here foraging?”
Randel shrugged. “Maybe Papa figured it’d be a good test of patience.”
Jareth snorted. “Patience? I have plenty of that.”
Garthan stifled a laugh. “Sure you do. That’s why you’ve been muttering to yourself for the past half hour. Face it, Jareth, you’re just itching for adventure.”
They continued through the forest, picking at bushes and scouring the ground for mushrooms, nuts, and anything else edible. The shadows lengthened as the sun dipped lower, casting long beams of light through the trees. Occasionally, a forest creature would dart out of sight, startled by the group’s noisy march.
Just when Jareth was about to break into another complaint, Garthan stopped short, holding up a hand to signal the others. “Wait. Do you smell that?”
Jareth and Randel paused, sniffing the air. There was a strange scent on the breeze, something smoky and metallic, tinged with a hint of sulfur. It was unlike anything they’d encountered in their usual foraging routes.
Randel’s eyes sparkled with intrigue. “That’s not normal forest air.”
Jareth’s mood lifted instantly; his curiosity piqued. “Finally! Something interesting.”
Garthan, ever cautious, frowned. “Hold on. We don’t know what that smell is. It could be dangerous. We should report it back at camp.”
Jareth’s grin was mischievous. “Or… we could just investigate. Come on, we’re not helpless. We’ve got our magic, and we’re trained warriors now.” He squared his shoulders, trying to sound authoritative, though he was clearly thrilled by the unexpected turn of events.
Randel leaned in, whispering, “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
“If by that you mean, ‘let’s follow that strange, dangerous smell and hope it leads to something exciting,’ then yes,” Jareth said with a gleam in his eye.
Garthan let out a sigh, recognizing that he’d already lost the argument. “Fine. But let’s not be stupid about it. We stick together, stay alert, and don’t do anything reckless.”
Jareth barely heard him, already striding confidently forward in the direction of the scent. The others hurried to catch up, exchanging wary glances as they moved through the trees, the unusual smell growing stronger with each step.
Jareth led the way, his steps fueled by excitement, as he pushed through thick underbrush and over fallen logs. The scent grew stronger… smoky, metallic, and unmistakably strange. It clung to the air, sharp and mysterious, unlike any scent they’d encountered on their usual forest forages. Jareth’s mind raced with possibilities, each one more thrilling than the last.
“There!” Randel whispered, pointing ahead.
Through the trees, they caught sight of a rocky hillside, half-hidden by a tangled mess of vines and moss. Nestled at its base was the entrance to a cave, dark and yawning. The shadows within seemed almost alive, moving and shifting in a way that made the boys’ pulses quicken. Jareth’s eyes sparkled with excitement as he took a step closer, but Garthan grabbed his arm, holding him back.
“Jareth, wait,” Garthan hissed, his expression wary. “That cave… Look around. Those scorch marks on the rocks, the claw marks… this has to be a dragon’s lair. I’m telling you, it’s too dangerous.”
Jareth pulled his arm free, waving off the warning with a grin. “Come on, Garthan, where’s your sense of adventure? And think about it! Dragons are said to keep hoards of treasure. Imagine what we could find in there! Gems, supplies, things that could really help our people!”
Randel scratched his head, glancing at the cave with a mix of curiosity and hesitation. “I don’t know, Jareth. Garthan has a point. Dragons aren’t exactly known for their welcoming natures. Plus… you know, you’re the prince and all. If something were to happen to you, Momma would kill us both.”
Jareth rolled his eyes, crossing his arms in defiance. “Momma doesn’t need to know. Besides, think of the glory! If we bring back something valuable, everyone will see we’re more than just foragers.”
Garthan sighed, crossing his arms. “Glory? More like a roast if that dragon is home. And even if it is, and it’s sleeping, it’s still a dragon. Fire, claws, and all. Just because it’s asleep doesn’t mean it can’t turn us into crispy Othánas in a heartbeat.”
Randel hesitated, shifting from one foot to the other. “Look, Jareth… I get it. We could use some resources, and yes, treasure would be… nice. But is it worth risking yourself?”
Jareth took a deep breath, glancing from the cave to his friends. He could feel the weight of their concern, but his mind was already made up. This wasn’t just about treasure, it was about proving himself, showing he could lead and take risks for the good of his people.
“I’ll go in alone,” he said, his voice steady. “You two wait out here. If anything goes wrong, just… get out of here and report back.”
Randel and Garthan exchanged uneasy looks, but neither of them moved to stop him. They knew better than to try to argue with Jareth when he had that determined look in his eyes. Instead, Randel placed a hand on Jareth’s shoulder.
“Just… be careful, alright?”
Jareth grinned, his usual spark of mischief returning. “I’m always careful,” he said with a wink, then turned and walked toward the mouth of the cave.
-*-
As he stepped into the shadows, Jareth felt a chill crawl down his spine, though he would never admit it. The cave was silent, save for the faint drip of water somewhere in the distance. The air was thick and humid, filled with the smell of old smoke and sulfur. Shadows danced along the walls, twisted and elongated in the dim light, giving the impression of movement.
Jareth took a few cautious steps, his eyes adjusting to the dark. He squinted, straining to see further into the cave, and then he spotted it… a massive, scaled form curled up near the back of the cavern. The dragon lay in a deep slumber, its body coiled and its wings tucked close. Its scales glimmered faintly in the dim light, a blend of deep reds and blacks, like embers in the dark.
His breath caught in his throat. It was magnificent, larger than he had imagined, and each gentle rise and fall of its chest seemed to echo through the cave. But what truly captured his attention was the glint of something behind it, just barely visible through the shadows.
There it is, he thought to himself. The treasure.
Creeping as quietly as he could, Jareth moved toward the dragon, taking care not to disturb the loose stones underfoot. He figured if he could just slip past the creature, he could reach the stash and gather a few items… something, anything… that would make this little venture worthwhile.
He was almost there, his eyes focused on the glint of what he was certain was treasure, when his foot nudged a small stone. It clinked against the cave floor, the sound amplified by the cavern’s stillness.
The dragon’s eyes snapped open, glowing like molten gold in the darkness.
Jareth froze, heart pounding as the creature’s gaze locked onto him. For a millisecond, neither moved, the cave silent but for the echo of Jareth’s own frantic breathing. Then, with a startled snort, the dragon let out a puff of flame that shot toward him, singeing the edges of his tunic.
Panic took over. With a strangled yelp, Jareth turned and bolted for the exit, barely noticing as his hair and eyebrows began to smolder. He sprinted faster than he thought possible, his heart hammering as the dragon’s low, annoyed growl echoed behind him.
“Nope! Not worth it!” he muttered to himself, feet pounding against the stone as he made his way back to his friends.
Outside, Randel and Garthan saw him hurtling toward them, his clothes smoking, his hair half-burned, and his expression wild with terror. They stared, mouths agape, as Jareth barreled past them, shouting over his shoulder, “RUN!”
-*-
Prince of the Goblins
Notes:
Don't ask me why, but in my head I keep hearing the theme song from 2 1/2 Men playing in the background as The Boys are marching through the forest.
Chapter Text
Jareth didn’t stop running until he was well beyond the cave entrance, his breath coming in frantic gasps, his heart pounding against his ribs. The smell of singed hair filled his nose, and he could feel the burned edges of his tunic crumbling against his skin. His once neatly braided hair was half gone, leaving a jagged line of scorched strands and a distinct bald patch that he’d never live down if he survived this.
Randel and Garthan followed close behind, still in shock from the sight of Jareth sprinting out of the cave with smoldering clothes and terror in his eyes. As they all stumbled to a halt in a small clearing, Jareth looked over his shoulder, praying that the dragon wasn’t following them.
But just as he turned, a deep rumble shook the earth, and the ground trembled underfoot. Suddenly, what seemed to be a wall of scales landed in right front of them. The dragon unfurled itself, its massive head towering above the boys, golden eyes narrowing as they focused on Jareth. The dragon didn’t seem enraged, more curious, and perhaps slightly annoyed at having its nap interrupted.
“Great job, Jareth,” Garthan whispered, panic in his voice. “You just had to go in, didn’t you?”
Jareth shot him a glare, but before he could retort, the dragon’s voice rumbled through the clearing, low and resonant like thunder. “Little one,” it said, its gaze fixed on Jareth. “Why were you sneaking around in my home?”
The boys stood rooted to the spot, too terrified to move. Jareth swallowed, struggling to find his voice. He hadn’t exactly planned for this part. He’d thought he could sneak in, grab something valuable, and slip out unnoticed. But now, standing in the dragon’s immense shadow, his plan seemed foolish… reckless, even.
“I… we… I mean, I thought…,” Jareth stammered, glancing helplessly at Randel and Garthan, who looked just as horrified as he felt.
The dragon raised a scaly brow, waiting with a patience that only made Jareth more nervous. Finally, he blurted out, “We’re… my people are in need. We thought… well, I thought… you might have… treasure or supplies we could use.”
The dragon let out a deep, echoing sigh that sounded almost like a chuckle. Its molten-gold eyes softened as it looked at the boy, and for a moment, the boys thought it almost looked amused.
“Treasure?” it repeated, tilting its head. “Do you think dragons hoard piles of gold in random caves, just waiting for curious thieves to stumble upon them?”
Jareth’s face flushed red. “I… I mean, that’s what we’ve heard.”
The dragon shook its head, a hint of a smile in its massive jaws. “Dragons keep their true treasures well hidden. We don’t leave them lying around in caves, ripe for the picking.” It lowered its head, studying Jareth with an expression that was almost parental, as if he were a youngling who had much to learn. “And even if we did, what makes you think stealing from an innocent dragon would help your people?”
Jareth opened his mouth to respond but found himself at a loss for words. He’d wanted to help his people, but he hadn’t really considered the ethics of it, nor the consequences. The dragon’s words sank in, and he looked down, abashed.
“I… I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I wasn’t thinking.”
The dragon nodded approvingly, sensing Jareth’s remorse. “Desperation can make fools of the wise. But remember this, young one: even in hard times, there are better ways to help your people than stealing from those who wish you no ill.”
Jareth nodded, glancing at Randel and Garthan, who looked relieved that the dragon hadn’t roasted their friend. The dragon let out a snort, sending a puff of smoke swirling into the air. “Though I do admire your courage, Prince Jareth. Few would dare enter a dragon’s cave uninvited. It’s foolish bravery… but bravery nonetheless.”
Hearing his name spoken by the dragon caught Jareth off-guard. “You… know who I am?”
“Of course I do,” the dragon said, its voice full of quiet wisdom. “We dragons know much of the world and its inhabitants. I know the plight of the Othánas and the cruelty of the Fae. Our kind has made a pact to remain neutral, but neutrality does not mean we are blind to the suffering of others.”
The boys exchanged glances, Randel and Garthan’s faces full of cautious hope. Perhaps this dragon wasn’t as terrifying as they’d thought.
“There is something I can offer you,” the dragon continued. “Not treasure, but information. Just west of here, about a furlong or so, there is another cave, next to a small waterfall. In that cave is a hidden stockpile of supplies, guarded by the Fae. Likely to resupply their warbands in the field. If you wish to help your people, you may find it there. But be warned… the Fae don’t guard their stores lightly.”
Jareth’s face lit up with gratitude and awe. “Thank you. Truly. We… my people will remember this.”
The dragon inclined its head, accepting the thanks with a slight smile. “Think of this as a lesson,” it said. “A reminder that greed and haste often lead to trouble. But if your heart is pure, there is always another way.”
Just then, Randel and Garthan stepped forward, the tension in their shoulders easing as they realized the dragon meant them no harm. Garthan, unable to help himself, muttered, “See, I told you dragons were wise. If you’d just listened to me—”
“Oh, hush,” Jareth said with an eye roll, though he couldn’t keep the grin off his face.
The dragon chuckled, a sound that echoed warmly through the clearing. “Perhaps, young prince, you could listen to your friends a bit more. You may find wisdom is often close at hand.” Its gaze softened as it looked between the three boys, sensing the bond of brotherhood that tied them together.
The dragon watched them for a moment longer before straightening to its full, towering height. “Now go, young Othánas. May your quest be successful. And remember… there is strength in honor, and value in wisdom.”
The boys nodded, each offering a bow of respect before turning to leave. As they made their way back toward the forest path, the dragon’s voice rumbled one last time, soft but resonant: “Good luck, young prince.”
Jareth glanced over his shoulder, a sense of humility washing over him. “Thank you,” he called back. “And… I’m sorry for disturbing your rest.”
The dragon huffed softly, a hint of amusement in its eyes. “Consider it forgiven,” it said, the faintest of smiles curling at its jaws.
-*-
As they headed home, Jareth’s heart felt lighter, despite his singed clothes and the lingering embarrassment. He had come searching for treasure and left with wisdom far greater. His friends, too, seemed relieved and grateful, their smiles growing with each step.
“Well,” Randel said, clapping Jareth on the back with a grin, “at least you didn’t end up as dragon toast. Although, I’m not sure how you’re going to explain that hair to Momma.”
Jareth groaned, running a hand over the charred patches of his hair and the raw spots on his brows. “Let’s… let’s not talk about that until we have to.”
-*-
The journey back was quieter than usual. Jareth’s heart was still pounding from his close encounter with the dragon, and he couldn’t shake the thought of what his mother would say when she saw the state he was in. Randel and Garthan walked on either side of him, casting glances at his singed hair and smoldering tunic but wisely keeping their comments to themselves. The forest was peaceful around them, but the boys were anything but calm.
As they neared the edge of the encampment, Jareth’s nerves began to fray. He imagined his mother’s reaction… fury, disappointment, maybe a mix of both. Randel seemed to pick up on his apprehension and shot him a sympathetic smile.
“Hey,” Randel said, giving Jareth’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze, “it’s not so bad. We got information about the Fae stockpile, didn’t we? And you were brave enough to face a dragon! Momma will see that part, too.”
Garthan, however, let out a chuckle. “Oh, she’ll see that part all right… right before she finishes scolding him to within an inch of his life.”
Jareth rolled his eyes but couldn’t help feeling a pang of gratitude toward his friends. He’d risked a lot today—maybe too much—but he’d come out of it with more than he’d expected. The only hurdle left was facing the wrath of his parents.
-*-
The Dragon is Awake
Notes:
Why didn’t Jareth just transport away? Because Garthan and Randel couldn’t. These guys are only about 13 years old at this point. Transporting doesn’t become possible until farther into puberty (although Jareth could do it at around 7 years old). He would never have left them behind, and in his panic, it didn’t occur to him to use his own transport power to get the three of them out of there. Besides... I wanted them to come face to face with the dragon, so... dastardly plot point.
And notice... he takes the blame himself. Several times, he starts to say 'we', but corrects himself. He knows that he's the only one to blame in this situation. Whether it is his basic honesty that drives him to take responsibility or the desire to protect his brothers, I leave up to the reader.
This dragon is the very same dragon (named Nargel) that gives Sarah a ride back in ‘Kingdom’, so they obviously meet again in the future.
In my world, dragons are wanderers, they don’t stay in one place for very long (idiotic adventurers looking for treasure is one reason). Because of their size and power, they would be fearsome in war. While I don’t mention it here (it will come up in a future story), the Fae wanted to use dragons in their armies and had thought to subdue them. After bloodshed on both sides, a pact was formed. The Fae would leave the dragons alone, in exchange for their promise to never take a side in any Underground war. While Nargel honors this promise, he’s obviously not above giving out a hint or two to help the Goblins.
And another small detail… Nargel sort of tweaks Jareth’s conscience about stealing from someone who has done him no harm and wishes him no ill. This carried over to when he was conjuring supplies from the humans for the stockpile years later and is the reason he left the Fae coins in payment for what he took.
While Nargel is not based on the Draco character from Dragonheart, I have to admit, I heard Sean Connery’s voice in my head when the dragon spoke.
Chapter Text
They entered the front garden of the family hovel, and before they’d even taken five steps, Helayne appeared in the doorway, striding toward them with a look of growing alarm. Vesryn, a few paces behind her, had his arms crossed, his expression unreadable but his eyes glinting with barely concealed worry.
“Jareth Danaaru!” Helayne’s voice rang out, her gaze locked onto her son’s disheveled appearance. She closed the distance between them swiftly, her eyes widening as she took in the singed tunic, the bald patch where his hair used to be, and his missing eyebrows.
Randel and Garthan took a hasty step back, suddenly very interested in a patch of grass by their feet. Helayne’s focus was as sharp as a sword as she placed her hands on her hips, her usually serene and gentle expression turning heated.
“Do you have any idea what you look like?” she demanded, her voice barely controlled.
Jareth, trying to look composed, scratched the back of his head, momentarily forgetting the burnt skin beneath his fingers. He winced, then shrugged, attempting a nonchalant grin. “I, uh… had a small encounter with a dragon?”
Vesryn choked. Helayne’s face drained of color, then flushed with anger. “A dragon? A dragon, Jareth? You tangled with a dragon?” Her voice rose, and she clenched her fists, advancing on him with such intensity that he took a half-step back. “What in Danu’s name possessed you to do something so utterly, catastrophically stupid?”
Her words lashed at him like a whip, and he flinched as she jabbed a finger toward his charred hair. “You’re the Prince of the Goblins, Jareth! The future of our people! And you thought it was a good idea to risk your life for—what? Treasure? Adventure? Glory?”
Behind him, Garthan and Randel stood frozen, their faces pale under the onslaught. Jareth glanced at them briefly, silently willing them to say something… anything… to deflect the storm.
But Helayne wasn’t finished. She rounded on Garthan and Randel with the same fiery intensity. “And you two! You’re supposed to keep him from doing things like this! Randel, you’re the eldest after him… how could you let him do something so reckless? And you,” she pointed an accusatory finger at Garthan, who immediately shrank back. “You’ve always been the sensible one. Did you really think this was a good idea?”
Randel cleared his throat nervously. “Well, to be fair—”
“Fair?” she interrupted, her voice rising again. “You think there’s anything fair about letting the future King of the Goblins into a dragon’s lair?”
Garthan, trying to salvage the situation, spoke up. “Momma, it wasn’t just for treasure—”
“I don’t care what it was for!” Helayne cut him off, her voice trembling with barely contained rage. “Do you think the Goblin people will care? If their Prince dies, do you think they’ll comfort themselves with the thought that he did it for a few shiny trinkets? No! They’ll be left without a leader, without hope, because you were foolish enough to let him risk his life for nothing!”
Jareth shifted uncomfortably under her glare. “It wasn’t for nothing,” he said quietly, though he knew it wouldn’t placate her. “I went for them. For the Goblin people. The dragon’s hoard had supplies. Food, cloth, tools. Things we need to get through the winter… or at least… I thought it did.”
For a moment, Helayne froze, her eyes narrowing as she processed his words. But rather than softening, her anger seemed to deepen. “Do you think that makes it better?” she demanded, her voice low and sharp. “Do you think being selfless excuses being stupid? You’re the Prince, Jareth. You’re the one they look to for leadership. What do you think happens to our people if you die? What happens to the Goblin people? You’re not just our son, Jareth… you’re the future. If you throw your life away, you’re throwing away theirs too.”
The weight of her words pressed down on him like a stone. He had thought he was doing the right thing… helping his people, easing their burdens… but in her eyes, he had only endangered them further.
“I thought—” he began, but she cut him off again, this time with a trembling voice.
“You didn’t think,” she said, her anger giving way to something deeper, more vulnerable. “You didn’t think about what it would mean if you didn’t come back. You didn’t think about what it would do to me, to your brothers, to your people. You didn’t think about anything but the idea in your head.”
Her hands clenched at her sides, and for the first time, Jareth saw the tears brimming in her eyes.
“Do you have any idea how much you mean to them? To us? If we lose you…” She trailed off, shaking her head as if the thought was too painful to finish.
The silence that followed was heavier than her anger. Jareth lowered his gaze, his hands curling into fists at his sides. “I’m sorry,” he said finally, his voice barely audible. “I didn’t mean—”
“No,” she said firmly, cutting him off. “You didn’t mean to, but that doesn’t change what could have happened. Next time, Jareth, you think about your people before you act. Because one day, their lives will depend on you. And if you keep doing things like this, you won’t be here to lead them when that day comes.”
Behind him, Garthan and Randel exchanged guilty glances but said nothing. Even Vesryn seemed subdued at Helayne’s words, as he hadn’t spoken since laying eyes on Jareth.
With that, she pulled him into their hovel, directing him to sit on the floor before her chair. She rummaged through the shelf next to the fireplace, pouring water into a bowl and bringing it to the small table set next to her chair. She sat behind Jareth and touched her fingertips to his temple. Jareth could feel the magic drifting over the burns on his scalp, soothing the skin and gradually fading the scorch marks. As she worked, she continued speaking, her voice lower but still filled with reproach.
“Now, you’re going to wear the marks of this little misadventure. And let this be a lesson for you.”
Once she’d healed the burns, she straightened, her eyes glinting with a familiar spark of resolve. She tilted his head, examining the uneven, singed patches on one side. With a faint smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, she lifted her hand again and, to Jareth’s horror, she was wielding Vesryn’s razor. Jareth sat glumly as Helayne spread some ointment on his head, then proceeded to shave the remaining hair on the other side to match.
“There.” She sat back, admiring her handiwork. “Consider this your punishment. You can walk around bald for the next few months as a reminder.”
Randel couldn’t hold back a snort of laughter, quickly turning it into a cough when Helayne shot him a stern look.
Jareth, his face red with embarrassment, tried to maintain his composure. “Yes, Momma,” he muttered, his fingers reaching up to feel the smooth skin on both sides of his head.
Vesryn’s previously stern expression softened slightly as he looked at his son. “Remember, Jareth, courage is important. But without caution, it’s just recklessness.” He placed a firm hand on his shoulder. “Learn from this.”
Jareth nodded, truly humbled. “I understand, Papa. I… I won’t forget.”
Helayne nodded, satisfied. “Good.” Then, with a small but wry smile, she turned to Randel and Garthan. “And as for you two… make sure he stays out of caves from now on.”
Randel raised his hands in surrender. “Trust me, we’ll keep a close eye on him. No more dragons!”
Garthan grinned, elbowing Jareth. “And we’ll make sure he remembers that bald heads are more aerodynamic for running away.”
Jareth rolled his eyes, though he couldn’t help a slight smile.
-*-
For the next few days, Jareth’s shaven look was the talk of the entire encampment. His bald head drew amused glances and whispered chuckles from nearly everyone, especially the younger Othánas, who had never seen their prince looking anything less than dignified.
Each morning, he’d stride out of their hovel, chin held high, trying to ignore the snickers and whispers as he walked by. Randel and Garthan stayed close by, offering support when they could, though they couldn’t resist teasing him a little.
“Well, look on the bright side,” Randel said one morning, doing his best to sound serious. “At least no one will ever forget this story. You’ll go down in history as the prince who challenged a dragon and… came out a bit crispy.”
Jareth shot him a look, fighting back a smile. “Ha ha. I’m sure history will treat me kindly. And maybe by then, I’ll have all my hair back.”
Garthan patted him on the shoulder, laughing. “Think of it as a mark of bravery! Though, honestly, the dragon wasn’t even the scariest part of the whole adventure.”
Jareth raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And what was scarier than facing a dragon?”
“Momma’s reaction,” Garthan replied with a smirk. “I thought she was going to conjure fire herself when she saw you.”
Jareth groaned, shaking his head. “Don’t remind me. I think I’d rather face a hundred dragons than go through that again.”
As they walked through the camp, the Othánas warriors greeted them with a mix of respect and amusement, some even nodding approvingly at Jareth’s audacity. One older warrior clapped him on the back, laughing heartily.
“Bold move, young prince! I remember when I was your age, I tried sneaking into an enchanted grove. Didn’t turn out much better for me, either,” the warrior chuckled, shaking his head at the memory.
Jareth laughed, feeling a bit lighter. “Well, I guess I’m not the only one who’s learned the hard way.”
The warrior winked. “Just remember, sometimes the best treasures aren’t gold or gems, but the lessons you carry with you.”
With each passing day, Jareth’s embarrassment began to fade. He still wore his bald head as a reminder of the risks he’d taken, but the experience had made him wiser, more cautious. And, in a way, it had brought him closer to his people. They’d seen him humbled, seen him take risks just as they did every day, and they respected him all the more for it.
Late one evening, after most of the camp had settled down, Jareth, Randel, and Garthan gathered around a small campfire, the flames casting flickering shadows on their faces. Randel leaned back, gazing up at the stars, and spoke thoughtfully.
“You know, for all the trouble we got into, we did come out of it with something valuable.”
Jareth raised an eyebrow, still skeptical. “A new haircut and a lecture from my parents?”
“No,” Randel said with a grin. “We came out with knowledge, and not just about dragons. We know where the Fae’s hidden stockpile is now. That’s a huge advantage.”
Garthan nodded, his face serious. “It’s true. The supplies there could make a real difference for our people.”
Jareth’s gaze softened as he looked at his friends. He’d learned more than just the location of the Fae’s supplies. He’d learned to value the wisdom of those around him, to balance bravery with caution, and… perhaps most importantly… that he didn’t have to face every challenge alone.
“I couldn’t have done any of it without you two,” he admitted, his voice quiet but sincere. “I owe you both. For putting up with my ideas… and for standing by me.”
Randel shrugged, a lopsided smile on his face. “We’re brothers, aren’t we? Where you go, we go. And besides, what’s a little singed hair between friends?”
Garthan raised an imaginary glass. “Here’s to us… and to many more adventures, hopefully without the hair loss.”
They laughed, the sound echoing into the night. Despite the embarrassment, the singed hair, and the scolding from his parents, Jareth felt something he hadn’t expected: a deep sense of pride. He was young, yes, and he still had much to learn. But he was surrounded by people who believed in him, friends who stood by him, and a family who wanted him to grow into a wise and capable leader.
As the fire crackled and the stars glittered above, Jareth made a silent promise to himself. He’d remember the dragon’s lesson, his mother’s stern words, and his father’s quiet wisdom. And the next time he was faced with a choice between recklessness and caution, he’d be ready to make the right decision. Not just for himself, but for all of those who believed in him.
-*-
The Aftermath
Notes:
Just a little light-hearted fun with the Boys. Also… I had to pay off that setup from ‘Kingdom’ where Garthan and Randel tell Sarah about this incident. The mental picture I had of Jareth, running in panic with half his hair gone and his clothes smoldering, was one that I had to expand upon for all to enjoy.
Jareth wasn't burned badly at all, Nargel's startled little exhale was not a full-on dragon breath stream. He did have half his hair singed off and his skin was red, like a bad sunburn, but that's all. Painful when touched but it wouldn't have scarred, even without Helayne's Healing magic. She could have used it further to re-grow his hair (as Melina did when Garthan fell into the Bog and had to shave his head) but chose to use it as a lesson.
While it might seem a little over the top to refer to Jareth as the hope of the Goblin people, remember... he has a phenomenal magical gift. He knows it. The people know it. And they view it as a gift from Danu. Helayne was completely justified in her rage (both as a mother and as Queen of the Goblins) that he would risk himself like that.
Next up, we get to see what happens when Sarah has to defend the Goblin Kingdom from an invasion.
Red Wolf (FairbairnSykes) on Chapter 1 Sun 30 Mar 2025 09:35PM UTC
Last Edited Sun 30 Mar 2025 09:35PM UTC
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Pagemistress on Chapter 1 Sun 30 Mar 2025 10:18PM UTC
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Red Wolf (FairbairnSykes) on Chapter 2 Tue 01 Apr 2025 06:49PM UTC
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Pagemistress on Chapter 2 Tue 01 Apr 2025 09:29PM UTC
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Red Wolf (FairbairnSykes) on Chapter 3 Thu 03 Apr 2025 10:12PM UTC
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Pagemistress on Chapter 3 Fri 04 Apr 2025 01:05AM UTC
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Labrujadel95 on Chapter 3 Fri 02 May 2025 10:18AM UTC
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