The king sat on the massive throne, spectacles on his nose, digesting the words on the scroll. He could hear the clamor of the voices as the Scribe was led into the chamber. He didn't bother to look up, he was aware of the violence she was administering to his minions. Jareth read the scroll over and lowered it once the Scribe was more or less standing before him. He waited.
The Scribe took one final swing at the sinewy creature who was grasping for her. "Take your grimy mitts off!" she screamed before looking toward the presence seated on the throne. "What's the matter this time?" Her voice was full of fury as she knocked the goblin holding onto her flat on his backside. "Stay down, damn it!" She barked.
"Okay," huffed the goblin, too worn to resist.
"Thank you for answering my summons," Jareth said teasingly. "So promptly, Scribe."
Huffing and puffing she advanced and shot warning looks to goblins about the room. None moved, they feared her nearly as much as they feared Jareth. "What's the complaint this time? I didn't make you wimpy, and I didn't make you sadistic."
"NO," he grumbled, "You made me a child molester." He tossed the scroll at her.
Ducking, the scroll missed hitting her and doing damages. "I did not," she denied.
"Did so," he barked back hunkering down and glowering at her.
"I did not."
Stormy eyes glared at her, "I know something of the laws of the above, Paisley… I have to seeing as I do have a trade with them." She rolled her eyes and he stormed. "You've written her under age!"
"Only if you were to pursue her Above," Paisley shouted overjoyed at having a trump card. "I checked and Periwinkle said. That if you were to pursue a mortal on mortal ground, you would be answerable to mortal law."
"You checked with whom?" Jareth growled.
"Periwinkle," Paisley answered as if it were common to commune with Fae. "Anyway, he said that as you pursued the girl here, in the Underground you were only answerable to the laws of this land…. And as you still follow an antiquated existence, she's not under aged." Crossing her arms and thinking she'd had the last say, Paisley snorted.
"What a woman," crowed the goblin lying on his back.
"Shut up," Jareth and the Scribe barked in unison.
Jareth steepled his fingers. "Paisley," he growled. "It would seem you've scathed through yet another tale…" his eyes were challenging, "On a technicality."
"I don't do hours of research for nothing," she defended her honor.
Exasperated, and seeing there was no winning an argument here today, Jareth conceded. "Fine, you win…" AS the Scribe turned to leave he shouted. "But I don't want to look a fool!"
"Oh for heaven's sake," she snarled. "No woman in her right mind is going to deny that she'd trade places with silly old Sarah in a heartbeat… and few if any would have given you the hard time Sarah did…"
"Paisley," he warned. "Just stop making me look like a child molester!" He demanded. "At least make her legal next time."
"What makes you think there'll be a next time, fancy pants?" Paisley shouted over her shoulder as she stalked out.
Jareth chuckled as the goblins came out of hiding. "There's always a next time…" he laughed.