Warning; Extreme Randomness Ahead!


Fae are known for loving fun and games, this is especially true for Jareth. Now Jareth is not what one would call your typical fae even though he does enjoy a good time. Many have speculated that the reason for this would be his parents' fault, they were always taking him Aboveground to fraternize with mortals. Though others simply believed it was due to the fact that he was the ruler of goblins, who of course are a brutish race of creatures.

The reason for Jareth's unusual sense of merriment really does not matter, for no matter how many ways one tried to explain this particular fae they always ended up confused. Jareth was strange even for a fae.


Jareth lounged in his throne as he watched the goblins wreaking havoc on his throne room. He would laugh whenever one of the more daft creatures would knock into a wall and try to stand. But even with this entertainment he was bored. He had been watching the same goblins for years.

Standing he gazed over at a group of the nasty little trouble makers who were at the moment downing ale like it was water. A little idea began to form in his quite gorgeous head, he hadn't been Aboveground for ten years. Not since that Sarah had ruined his game by defeating him.

He humphed and turned on his heels, there was no reason he could not go Above. Mostly considering he knew a few very good pubs in this small town in Ireland.


Humans, commonly believing that creatures of magic do not exist, generally do not talk to dwarves or are always on the look out for fairies. But Sarah Williams was different, she not only believed in such creatures but had befriended many of them.

Since returning from the Labyrinth she began to notice how many of these magical creatures actually lived in her world. Fairies who liked to play in the flowers and bite those who came too close. Little goblins who liked to cause havoc in kitchens and offices.

Ever since she had returned life had been anything but normal. Today was no exception.

Sarah had been visiting a college friend, who just so happened to live in the same small Irish town that Jareth had known a few good pubs in. More than just that actually as this friend happened to work in one of these pubs and Sarah just happened to be on her way to visit this particular pub for a bit of lunch. Had she known what was waiting there for her it has been suggested she would have drank that bottle of whisky her friend had stashed in the kitchen cabinet.


As Sarah walked up the path to the entrance of "The Dusty Goblin", a name of course that Sarah thought was quite ironic given her history, she could hear the sounds of someone singing. This of course was not unusual as she had found out not long after her twenty-first birthday, when people got drunk they tended to sing, and sing badly. And as this was a pub she was walking up to she found nothing suspicious about it at all.

The door of the pub was old and happened to smell much as though someone had used it as a toilet, though at least it was better than the smell of the actual pub. A smell that Sarah tried not to figure out, but simply ignore. Luckily after one glass of whisky one would no longer care.

"Sarah! Yer just in time Lass!" Seana waved franticly from behind the bar. Sarah had always thought the girl looked like an angry goose when she did that.

"Hey Seana, what am I in time for?" She sat down at the bar and tried to drown out the sounds from the room just off to the right of her. Though she vaguely recognized the voice.

"Seems we're in for a real treat, got an Englishman visitin' t'day. Ya should go an' take a peek Lass, ya won't be disappointed." She pointed towards the room Sarah had been trying to ignore. Knowing Seana Sarah didn't even try to protest, only got up and moved her way through the haphazardly arranged tables.

Now of course what the girl had been expecting when she entered the little room had been some drunk Englishman, most likely a businessman who was on vacation. What she had not been expecting was a very drunk fae singing songs about Scotsmen and Irishmen. But what was most shocking was not that it was a very drunk fae but that it was a very drunk Jareth.

She stood unable to move just watching as the King of Goblins stood on the stage with his arms around the shoulders of two very drunk Irishmen singing "Donald, Where's Your Trousers?"

Jareth swung back and forth, he hadn't had this much fun in years. He began to wonder just why he had stayed away so long and why he didn't visit Above more often. He removed his arm from one of the men at his side so he could take another huge gulp of his ale. Replacing his arm he continued to sing.

"Let the wind blow high and the wind blow low
Through the streets in my kilt I go
All the lassies cry, "Hello!
Donald, where's your trousers?" He kicked up his leg causing his ale to spill slightly on the man next to him. Though at the moment he couldn't have cared less. He slurred the rest of the song out and pulled his flagon to his lips again, of course by the time he had ended singing he had completely spilled his drink and was now staring rather depressed into an empty mug.

He jumped rather clumsily off the stage and headed for the bar, of course this meant he was also heading straight for Sarah who was staring with bright red cheeks at him.

Now one thing about being drunk, whether you be human or fae, is that you normally are not paying attention to things around you. So of course this means that it is very possible to run right into someone who you were in fact looking straight at. And since this story wouldn't be very interesting if Jareth had actually noticed Sarah standing in the doorway looking as though she had just seen the Fae King completely naked, he of course does.

Of course to make this situation awkward we could say that Jareth landed with his face in a rather delicate place, or even that Sarah ended up with her hand in a similarly embarrassing place. But since the writer of this particular tale is in fact evil these two things do happen, but with one extra special element that ends up leaving Sarah blushing like mad and later on would ensure that Jareth never again drinks.

This special little element would be the fact that Jareth, the King of Goblins, in fact was wearing a kilt. And for anyone who has worn a kilt, or a skirt for that matter, knows what happens when one falls face flat on the floor with any force. Needless to say while the age old question of what Scotsmen wear under the kilt may not have been answered, the what a fae wears under one had been.

And because, as we said before, the writer is evil she won't be actually saying what that is. All she will say was outside there may have been a new moon, but inside everyone enjoyed a full moon.

As Jareth lay on top of her Sarah began to wonder what one usually did when they were pinned in a compromising position with a very drunk fae in a kilt. But the more she thought the more she realized that this was most likely the first time someone had been pinned in a compromising position with a very drunk fae in a kilt. And so she was stuck, quite literally, with only one option. And that was to remain pinned and scream in the ear of the fae on her.

Of course anyone who has actually tried to yell and get a drunk person to do anything realizes the futility of doing such a thing. It was lucky for Sarah then that her friend Seana had seen what had happened and was already on her way to help. Though not before Jareth noticed that he had in fact fell on something rather soft and squishy and so it could not have been the floor.

He removed his face from the two soft mounds he had landed on and looked up into a face he had thought he would never see again. He frowned then cleared his throat saying the first thing that popped up into his head, which being drunk was rather a daft thing to say.

"You are Sarah." Of course as he was in fact very drunk it came out more like "'Ooo er Sss'rah." But as the writer is not only evil but lazy and writing this at four in the morning she will continue to write his words normally.

"No duh Sherlock." Jareth furrowed his brows even further and shook his head deciding not to correct her on his name.

"Sarah would you mind getting off of me?" Now remember our writer is lazy, so his words were actually blurred and not so elegant.

"Get off of you? You must be really drunk, you are the one on me you dolt!" Taking a moment to look up and down at the woman he concluded she was right, but made no move to actually get off. That was until Seana took his shoulders and half lifted, half dragged him off of her.

Sarah stood and dusted herself off, she tried to keep her eyes from the bottom half of the fae. Though she was of course failing. Not that anyone would actually blame her, who wouldn't be staring if they had seen Jareth in a kilt?

"Thank you Seana." Her eyes were now glued to the kilt, which caused her cheeks to turn a quite lovely shade of cherry.

"Ya know this man?" Jareth was leaning against the door frame trying to figure out why Sarah was there. Reasoning that he would never know he allowed himself to take in the older Sarah, his drunken mind playing with ideas that were not much different from what his sober mind came up with about her. Though the ale made these ideas rather strange, they always seemed to involve him in a skirt. Though he couldn't figure why.

"I wish I could say no, but he is…uh a family friend." Seana nodded and groaned when one of the other men in the pub began to shout about his pipe being stolen. Though everyone could see the pipe was in fact in his mouth.

"Well then I'ma goin' to leave him in yer care. Ya can use one of the rooms upstairs." She handed off the sloshed fae to Sarah who rolled her eyes, she not only didn't want to look after Jareth she also didn't want to miss lunch. She was quite hungry.

Sarah knew getting Jareth upstairs was going to be a feat, though she hadn't really known just how hard it would actually be. Needless to say by time she had finally gotten him up the stairs, into the room and on the bed she had enough bruises that one would have thought she had been fighting an octopus.

Luckily for Sarah he had fallen asleep as soon as he hit the pillow, giving her time to go and have lunch. She was now sitting in a chair by the window looking through the local paper. She could hear a groaning but refused to turn around. Though she did giggle under her breath knowing just what was awaiting Jareth as he woke.

Jareth lay against something soft, but with the pounding in his head it actually felt more like he was laying on a pile of jagged rocks and broken glass. He vaguely remembered having the idea of going Aboveground to have a few drinks, but that was all he seemed to remember.

He opened his eyes, the light having the same effect as being stabbed in the eyes repeatedly with hot needles. He groaned and stared up at the ceiling. He heard faint giggling and lifted his head up the best he could. He had to blink a few times to make sure he was not seeing things. When he was sure that the woman sitting by the window was in fact Sarah he spoke, though his mouth now felt like a skunk had used it as a bathroom.

"Sarah? What…where…who…wait why?" He couldn't seem to complete his thoughts and so just threw out random words that could be used as questions on their own.

"Yes, and I don't know, The Dusty Goblin pub, me, and because you are an idiot." It took a moment to understand what she had just said, once he did he nodded and stood. He wobbled over to her, Sarah trying not to laugh. Though she couldn't help the blush still on her cheeks.

Jareth stopped when he noticed the strange breeze where there shouldn't have been one and looked down.

"Sarah why am I in a skirt?" Sarah couldn't help it anymore and belted out a laugh. Jareth didn't look amused, then again she didn't expect him to.

"It is a kilt Jareth, and personally I was wondering that myself." She adverted her eyes from him and outside.

"I just was going to….Oh Hell!" Jareth sank down into the chair across from her as he began to remember all that had happened, including falling on Sarah.

Sarah now interested in why he had just cussed turned and immediately regretted it. Ok well maybe not regretted but was at least not prepared. Jareth hand flung himself into the chair in the same manner in which he sat in his throne, which meant that his kilt was rather open and Sarah had a wonderful view. She gasped and turned her head, her eyes completely wide. Jareth noticing why she had just about jumped set his legs down and sat rather strangely. Kind of like a young girl wearing her first mini skirt and embarrassed that people could see her underwear.

"Uh..Sarah…" She kept her gaze outside, figuring that watching the man across the street get sick was better than facing Jareth in a kilt.

"Yes?" Jareth rubbed the back of his neck, he had planned on saying sorry for falling on top of her but then he decided that he was King and had no need to. Instead he said the first thing that came to his mind. Being now sober one would have thought that this time it would have been at least a smart statement. Though seems one should never talk even when just hungover.

"Did I actually sing 'Donald, Where's Your Trousers?" Well at least while not witty it was simply boring and not actually stupid.

"Yep, and then promptly fell on top of me. So you remember what happened then?" Jareth nodded but noticing that she was not looking was forced to speak.

"Unfortunately yes." Now Sarah being at least somewhat reasonable she asked the question that all the readers of this story have been asking;

"So Jareth, why are you wearing a kilt?" Jareth pinched the bridge of his nose, this action sending a shot of pain into his head.

"I'm not exactly sure, one moment I'm at a pub across town having a small whisky with the owner and the next thing I know I'm in a kilt singing drinking songs here." Now this of course was not a funny answer at all, nothing like him saying he thought he would look pretty in it or thought that he would look like a school girl in one, but then again one must remember that our writer is insane and has finally run out of ideas. In other words she couldn't figure out something at all funny to end this story.

So instead of dragging this on and on to where Jareth would most likely be cursing himself out and Sarah staring at the kilt she is going to leave you with this image……





After spending the next two hours talking about random and stupid things both Sarah and Jareth decided that they were in fact bored, and very annoyed with the writer, and thus decided to give the readers something they knew they would want…..

Though as this writer hates writing smut she will instead edit out the heavy makeout session and not even mention the wild night in bed the two spent. Instead she will stop typing and………………………………...


Author's Note: Ok so this is what happens when you spend all night listening to "Donald, Where's Your Trousers" and tons of Irish and Scottish drinking songs. And Hell Jareth would look dead sexy in a kilt!