Jareth teetered somewhere near madness, at a juncture of fatigue and frustration. Encouraged by their breakfasting efforts, the goblins had continued their sudden proactive stance
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And here comes Ali, in her gardening best (a wide straw hat to keep her from being all freckles, and clothes worn and comfortable enough to be accommodating to any amount of dirt and mud) and bringing many new inhabitants to join the very plants Jareth is so carefully guarding. The guardian king is greeted with a bright smile and a wave, and once she's set down her burdens several kisses. "Hello, my love."
Ali does not rise. Her eyes follow him as he stands, and her arms fall away from him, but she shows no signs of abandoning her seat.
"Jareth, I would be happy to help you, but not if you're going to behave like a petulant child every time they don't instantly do what you wish. They need patient guidance of they are to learn. You may be able to terrorize them into patterns of behavior, but you cannot frighten someone into thinking.
"If all you want from them, as their king, is their terror and blind obedience, that is your right. But I will have no part of it."
Ali hesitates; a long breath is drawn in and released before she speaks in hopes she'll remain calm. "Nothing. But blind obedience, born of unending fear, is soul-crushing. I don't hate them, and I won't do that to them."
Ali bows her head a bit in acquiescence. "We can stop them for now." And then she rises, hands folded behind her back. "Which would you prefer I turn my attention to: the scrubbers, or the chicken-stackers?"
Again, he pauses to consider. "The chicken-stackers." The scrubbers are more numerous, but also less mobile, while the chicken-stackers are running hither and yon in pursuit of their feathered charges.
He always welcomes her kiss, barring only his fiercest fits of temper. "Good luck," he murmurs as she goes, before turning to the task of making the muck-scrubbers stop.
At least some of the chicken-stacking goblins are in the throne room when Ali seeks them, having managed somehow to briefly arrange a pile four birds high. It collapses into a mass of escaping fowl shortly after she enters, a clucking tide that washes past her ankles.
Ali watches the chickens go, ready to grab the goblins who attempt to give chase. "Let's leave the chickens be for a minute," she suggests, "as they're far too worked up right now to stay put. I have a better idea." She also has candy. She's not too proud to bribe the little beasts.
"You're back!" one of the little hellions exclaims, and while some entertain brief notions of continued chicken-chasing, candy proves more enticing by far.
"I am," she agrees with a smile, making sure each of them gets only one piece (for now). Once they're all gathered around, she sits down and gestures for them to do the same. "I hear you've all been really busy lately."
"The king, he hasn't been happy lately," one confides in her. The tale comes out with goblins interrupting each other, each supplying a piece, or part of a piece; "he deedn't vant to do ennyting!" "So ve decided to cheer him up, ja?" "And after ze breakfast went zo well..." "...he always liked it when you made breakfast--" "--we're making it like you're here, all the time." "So then he'll be happy!" "And von't keek us."
Ali listens patiently, making eye contact with each of them as they speak and managing to at least appear like this is all news and terribly serious (as opposed to adorable). "I see. That's both kind and clever of you all. You should all be commended for your efforts."
She lets the praise sink in for a moment, but not a long one, because she doesn't want them running off again. "It looks like the chickens are proving difficult. Why don't you tell me what you're trying to do, and maybe I can help?"
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"Jareth, I would be happy to help you, but not if you're going to behave like a petulant child every time they don't instantly do what you wish. They need patient guidance of they are to learn. You may be able to terrorize them into patterns of behavior, but you cannot frighten someone into thinking.
"If all you want from them, as their king, is their terror and blind obedience, that is your right. But I will have no part of it."
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"What do you suggest, then?"
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She'll kiss his cheek if he lets her, and then she's off to try and round up the chicken-chasing goblins.
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At least some of the chicken-stacking goblins are in the throne room when Ali seeks them, having managed somehow to briefly arrange a pile four birds high. It collapses into a mass of escaping fowl shortly after she enters, a clucking tide that washes past her ankles.
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She lets the praise sink in for a moment, but not a long one, because she doesn't want them running off again. "It looks like the chickens are proving difficult. Why don't you tell me what you're trying to do, and maybe I can help?"
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