A/N: I needed to finish something, so this is just a quick little addendum/folllow up to this as I try to finish up the next chapter of ONaN. I'm working on it now... at least until I bonk my head against the keyboard.

Jareth jammed the ballpoint pen back in its lid, deliberated, and yanked it back out again. The thing was egregiously unrefined and lacked the smooth flow to which he was accustomed, but given the circumstances of his flight from the kingdom, he would have to make do with his beloved's less-than-refined instruments.

Sarah was not present in her hovel, perhaps in effort to forestall his wrath. His sweet thought herself clever in this, and he was gentlemanly enough to allow her to delude herself for a while longer. The king perused the finished missive to his lady love one final time.

My Dearest Sarah,

I must say I am duly impressed with your grace and manner with respect to our upcoming nuptials, though it has become apparent that I was ill-advised in my rash willingness to believe your claims of utter sincerity.

First of all, I commend your newly developed skills in regard to the durability of permanent markings, though the juvenility of your message leaves something to be desired. Eloquence is cultured over the long centuries, and I have little doubt your breadth of vitriolic insults will expand accordingly over time. I hope you find my answer to your earlier plea satisfactory. You have no doubt already found yourself in possession the golden ring replacement for your betrothal wreath. Though I shall truly miss the charming style of your hair whilst wearing it and can only hope that you shall indulge me again with its presence on your crown soon.

The Horde is quite pleased with their new brand of pets, though in light of their penchant for defecation and the unholy squawking in their battles with the resident fowl over territory, I am far less enthused.

For introducing these pigeons into the fragile Labyrinth ecosystem I find myself compelled to provide you an extended tour of the Bog of Eternal Stench. It is truly ambient this time of year with the ginkgo in full bloom and the durian fruit just ripening. Furthermore, I trust you will endeavor to relocate the winged rats' with sincere gusto, lest they start breeding.

We shall speak at my earliest convenience, perhaps after the quelling of my temper.

Fondest Affection,

Your Sovereign King, Keeper of your Dreams, and Betrothed, Jareth

"Perhaps a mandatory swim in the bog is a bit much."

It was then that he caught sight of himself in Sarah's conveniently placed floor mirror, once again taking in his new black-ink moustache, hand-drawn monocle, and the words, 'Jareth is a poo-poo head,' scribbled on his forehead.

No, no the bog will not do at all. Inadequate. Mere child's play. Perhaps she should head the annual thousand league pilgrimage to the Sacred Bone of Whence? Sending her on the extended Goblin Venture was a bit cruel, though given the severity of her crime and the lightning bolt covering the other half of his face it did not seem overmuch.

The pilgrimage would likely end with her poisoning more of his subjects against him, however, and was not an ideal choice.

He made himself at home and pondered. Given that pondering was best done to a steady tempo, Jareth summoned one of his stolen scepters from the depths of Sarah's closet. In his magical pilfering, he also reclaimed a beloved, well missed shirt of his own.

Oh she protested, vociferously, when confronted with the depth of her affection him, and she may have not been fully conscious of what she was getting herself into in continuing her association with him. But misappropriation of his personal belongings- She might not have been truly conscious of the meaning behind her actions, but the intent was there. And in the end, it was the intent that mattered.

He was near sleep, considering the chemistry of magically enhanced Sharpie and how to avoid permanent scarring in its removal, or perhaps charming his queen apparent into undoing her mischief, when his thought process jumped back to the subject of adequate punishment.


The worst part about being the Goblin King was the monotony. However, to be fair, that had been alleviated as of late.

The best part about being the Goblin King was that his magic was potent enough that he need not be present in order to carry out his mischief.

Yes, his revised plan was just short of perfect. Threat of the bog could stay. Despite his intended's redoubled efforts in the longevity of her magical spells, the ink would fade to nothing given time and some firm prodding.

With a flourish, the pen and note reappeared from where he had left them in Sarah's boudoir. Un-capping the pen a final time, the king added one more line.

Post Script: In my eternal generosity, I have given you yet another gift. I can only hope it does not take you overlong to find it.

Sarah found the note some hours later. At that point in the day, her options were to go home and face whatever booby-trap the Goblin King had set up in her apartment, or rent a hotel for the night. The idea of putting off dealing with the fallout for another day was tempting, but she knew that said fallout would only get worse if left unattended.

When nothing immediately came charging or slithering out at her, Sarah thought that he must be lulling her into a false sense of security, which would in turn only make her more paranoid. When she found and read the note, this suspicion was confirmed. The woman turned her apartment upside down trying to find whatever the gift was that he had left for her.

To her consternation, she found nothing.

That was, until she started going about changing clothes for her impending restless night's sleep.

She glared at the note again and found something had been added.

Post-post script: By all means, take your time in finding it. Do not worry, it shall never fade.


It seemed obvious, now. Jareth always responded in kind to her efforts.

"Oh, crap on a cracker."

Sarah yanked off her top, and there it was, black and silver and glittering faintly on her lower back. She was mesmerized for a moment. Only a moment. She had probably gotten the better end of the deal because it was gorgeous and intricate, where her doodles on Jareht's face had been unflattering at best.

After poking at the markings for several further moments, Sarah finally remembered her righteous indignation and rallied forth Underground to potentially eviscerate a certain king over her brand new tattoo that quite literally had his name on it.

A/N: And they all lived warringly affectionate ever after!

But yeah, no, that's it for this, I swear. Except maybe a quick scribble of Sarah doodling on Jareth's face. We'll see.