In Love And War Chapter Four
Title: In Love And War
Author: waking_epiphany (Jamie)
Rating: PG-13...for now ;-)
Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me; they belong to Jim Henson and Brian Froud.
Pairings: Jareth/Sarah. Duh.
Timeline: Five years since the end of the movie.
Summary: Five years after Sarah Williams destroyed the Underground and its king she finds herself once again fighting for the people she loves. A decrepit, crumbling carnival is the setting of Sarah and Jareth's final showdown for not only her friends' freedom, but Sarah's own. Is thirteen hours enough time for Sarah to solve the riddle of Goblin King's labyrinthine heart?
Author’s Note: Sarah faces her first carnival challenge to save a friend, meets the High King, and Hoggle makes a surprising decision. The soundtrack was too long to include in this post, so see the next post for the music. Comments are like crack, please indulge me.
* * *
Smeekin was afraid of oubliettes. He was afraid of most things, really, but especially oubliettes. He hated the feeling of the walls closing in, of the dark, and of being forgotten. But, more than anything, even more than oubliettes, he fears the Goblin King's brother and what he would do if he took over Smeekin's home.
This oubliette wasn't so bad. It was perfectly round but very wide across and though the walls went up very high, but there was clear, blue sky above. Good thing he didn't fall in from the very top. Smeekin looked over at the entrance to the oubliette...he supposed it wasn't really an oubliette if there was an entrance; it was just a large, round room with a big tree in the middle with really tall walls. The entrance was a large doorway and outside the doorway was the dark human world. In the labyrinth it was light-time but in the Aboveground it was dark-time.
The dwarf was shouting things at him again and Smeekin cowered against the huge, hulking tree in the center of the open-topped oubliette. The wood sprites were pestering the foul-mouthed traitor and Smeekin liked it that way. The leaves were very green against the papery white bark and surrounded by dozens of the blight, blinking sprites, it looked very pretty. The tree was encircled by a low, stone wall that Smeekin was currently perched on, waiting for The Lady to come. The dwarf had a rope tied around both arms, both legs and his waist and, strung up in the tree.
He was glad the dwarf was up there. He was wrinkly and rude and spat at him. What if Smeekin got sick because this dirty, gross dwarf spat on him? None of the other goblins would come and visit him in his tiny hut. He was afraid of being alone. The worm might visit...he was polite. Kweeble would, because Kweeble was nice. Smeekin wished he was in his tiny hole right now, with his teakettle and his pet snail and his knitted hats.
He was afraid what the Goblin King's brother would do if he took over the Kingdom, he was afraid of what the Goblin King himself would do if he failed his mission, he was afraid that The Lady would pick him up by his ears and twirl him above her head and...
There she was. She was peeking into the archway, her eyes round with wonder. She kept looking into the oubliette and then out of it, marveling at how it was almost dark in the human world, but light in the Labyrinth.
The dwarf hadn't noticed her yet. He was still yelling at the tiny, softball sized goblin. Smeekin pulled his long ears and stuffed them into his ear canal. He tried hiding against the bark of the tree but the dwarf looked down on him, trying desperately to knock the sprites away, spitting insults left and right as he did.
"...and then I'll take your mother out for a nice seafood dinner and I won't even call on her the next day and...Sarah? Sarah!"
Sarah turned to the voice. At first she didn't see anything but then, yes, there was a rustling in the branches of the spectacularly huge tree.
"Hoggle?"
"Who else would it be? The king of the bog of eternal stench?"
"Technically, I think you're both of those things," Sarah called, laughing. She was so relieved he was alright; better than alright, really, if he was still capable of hurling insults while stuck up in an ancient tree. It was amazing; the tree had looked dead and withered, though still very tall, when she was outside the archway but now that she had walked through, it was strong and vital and full of shiny green leaves. It was lit up with tiny pinpricks of light and Sarah knew at once it wasn't a string of Christmas lights.
She turned around to look where she had come and there was suddenly a great, tall circular wall surrounding the hole in which she had just come through. And, strangely of all, it was daytime once she walked through. Even if Jareth hadn't told her that the attractions contained portals to the Labyrinth, she would have known she was not in a place of her own world.
Sarah jogged up to the base of the tree and climbed on the low stone wall at the tree's base. She peered up through the myriad of branches and, sure enough, saw the short, stubby legs of her dear friend, Hoggle, surrounded by tiny sprites. They were smaller than fairies, almost like a swarm of large bugs, and they glowed with a light all their own. Unfortunately, they also minuscule, needle sharp daggers and were poking her dwarf with them.
"If we're going to be technical," Hoggle said, struggling against his bonds. "I am the prince of the bog of eternal stench, not the king. Now, get me down, so I can ram my fist into that little goblin's pea brain and then I'll get my sprite toxin sprayer and then we'll see who's so stinking brave..."
"Who are you talking to..." Sarah began to say, until she felt a tug at the hem of her jeans. She looked down and saw the tiniest goblin she had ever seen peering up at her with large, bug eyes.
"Oh," Sarah said, surprised. "Hello there, little guy."
"Murple," Smeekin eloquently replied into the fabric of her pants. He was so frightened; but, looking up at The Lady, he found her to be pretty and was speaking to him in such a soft and kind way. He worked up his courage and tugged on her pants again, more insistently this time, and Sarah stooped down so she could hear him better.
"My laugh to smell you some piddles," the tiny goblin muttered.
"What?!"
"I have to tell you some riddles," the tiny goblin squeaked a bit more loudly. "King told me five riddles, one for each rope holding the smelly dwarf."
Smeekin was so proud of himself. That was probably the most words he had ever strung together without stopping in the middle to cower or pee his pants. But then he thought of the nasty High King and started shivering again.
Sarah looked at the little goblin for a moment. She had played softball for a whole three weeks junior year of high school and thought she probably could hurl this little imp far enough that she could climb up the tree and untie Hoggle. But she couldn't have the Goblin King swooping in and claiming her a cheat, either.
Sighing, she put her hand out, palm upwards, for the tiny goblin to perch on. She swatted a few sprites out of her face so he could get a good look at her. Looking uncertain for a moment, the goblin then stepped gingerly onto Sarah's hand. She brought the creature up closer to her face and the thing grabbed on to her thumb for balance.
"Ok, little one, lay it on me."
"Ok," Smeekin replied, tapping a stubby finger against his head to try and remember the riddles. "Ok, Lady, what is it that you can keep after giving it to someone else?"
Sarah considered this. She liked riddles. When others wouldn't wrap their minds around the puzzling phrases, somehow her mind took them apart and deciphered them. Now, it couldn't be something physical, unless the other person gave it back to you. No, it had to be an idea, or a concept, or a word...
"Oh!" Sarah said after a moment, scaring the poor goblin. He dived flat on the palm of her hand, his little legs dangling off the side, his hands over his considerably long ears.
"Oh, I'm sorry, little guy, I just know the answer. Is the thing you can keep after giving it to someone else...your word?"
"Uh..." Smeekin consulted a list the size of a postage stamp and nodded.
"This isn't so hard," Sarah told him a bit smugly. "What about Hoggle? A rope for a riddle, right?"
"Yes, Lady," Smeekin said and snapped his fingers. The rope around Hoggle's middle disappeared. She heard a collective groan from the sprites as Hoggle's middle sagged outward from being freed. The little buggers renewed their tormenting of Hoggle and Sarah felt like she should speed this adventure up.
"Ok, next riddle," Sarah demanded. She was confident now and she imagined what Jareth would say when she breezed past this first task with ease. He would so angry. She imagined him, brooding and smoldering on his glorious throne and she smirked.
"Hokay," Smeekin said, consulting his list. He read very slowly. "There are four brothers in this world that were all born together. The first runs and never wearies. The second eats and is never full. The third drinks and is always thirsty. The fourth sings a song that is never good. Who are they?"
"Huh," Sarah says, to the goblin. "Would I know these brothers personally?"
"Mmm," Smeekin says, not sure how to answer. He felt like he was being tricked, but the Goblin King said nothing about being honest. "Umm...they're not real brothers, like my brother Yak, but I knows I see them brothers every day."
"Four things you see every day," Sarah said, more to herself. She looked around, trying to draw inspiration from her surroundings. "I see myself every day, but that's not it. I see...trees every day. I see people, too, I suppose...the ground, then, if we're going to be picky."
Smeekin started jumping up and down despite himself.
"The ground? Is that it?"
Smeekin waggled his hand, which Sarah took to mean "sort of".
"So, the ground is part of it...is it one of the brothers?"
Smeekin gave an exaggerated shrug, which Sarah took to mean as yes.
"Ok, which brother would the ground be..." Sarah looked at the grass at her feet, which looked a little yellowed and brittle at the ends. "It wouldn't be the one that runs....not the one that eats. Would it be...the brother that drinks and is always thirsty?"
Smeekin nodded emphatically.
"So, if the earth is one of the brothers...," Sarah held up her other hand and started ticking them off. "The one that runs and is never weary is water. The one that always eats and is never full has to be fire. We know that the third brother is the earth, because it always drinks and is never thirsty. That leaves air, or really, the wind, to sing that song that is never good. Is that right?"
"You'se so smart, Lady," Smeekin says, blushing against his green cheeks. He snapped his fingers again and Hoggle was left dangling from his two hands and one foot. A few of the sprites teamed up to remove one of Hoggle's shoes and began to tickle his feet. The dwarf was not amused.
"Do you think we could hurry this up a little?" Hoggle shouted down at Sarah. "I ain't got all day!" Sarah glared at him from down on the ground and then addressed the goblin again.
"Please, sir," Sarah asked the little goblin, and his whole body shakes at being called "sir". "I'd like another riddle, now."
"Uh..." Smeekin consulted his list. "What belongs to you but others use it more than you do?"
Sarah thought. She peered up into the foliage at Hoggle's feet for inspiration, but none came. She considered stealing the goblin's miniscule note and simply reading the answers. But, that would hardly be fair.
"Can I maybe get a little hint?" Sarah asked the little goblin, who shook his head emphatically.
"Sarah!" Hoggle started shouting from his perch up in the tree. "Sarah! Hey, Sarah!"
"Geez, Hoggle, I'm trying my best here," Sarah called in an exasperated tone. Leaves started to shower down on her, as Hoggle struggled against his bonds.
"Oy, Sarah! Saaaaarah," Hoggle called to her and found herself getting annoyed.
"What?!"
"That's it! Sarah," Hoggle called down in his peevish voice. "Your name! It's yours but everyone else uses it more than you do!"
"Oh," Sarah said slowly, then her face lit up. "Oh! My name! Is it my name?"
Smeekin glared up at the dwarf, who was blowing raspberries at Smeekin. Smeekin snapped his fingers and Hoggle was hanging from one arm and one leg.
"Hmfph," the goblin grumbled in a defeated tone of voice, but began consulting his list again. "Ok, Lady, here goes. Who are the two brothers who live on opposite sides of the road yet never see each other?"
"Is it the same brothers as before?" Sarah asked, deciding that keeping the goblin talking was the best course of action.
"Nopers," Smeekin said, not quite sure what The Lady was doing. He felt distinctly nervous when he felt he had to answer her.
"Ok, different brothers...do these brother's look alike?"
"Mine do," Smeekin answered hesitantly. "And so do yours. But the Goblin King's don't."
The little goblin must have realized he said something revealing, because he shivered in fear and stuffed one of long ears into his mouth.
That made Sarah pause. She only had one brother, not two and as far as she knew, Jareth didn't have any siblings. But, according to the goblin, her brothers looked the same, whereas Jareth's did not. What was so different about Jareth that was the same to her? In her mind, Sarah answered everything but that wasn't the answer. She envisioned the Goblin King, in all his fearsome splendor, first thinking of his long fingered hands, and his lean, muscular legs, his achingly tight pants...never mind. Boyfriend in trouble, Sarah chided herself. Shifting her thoughts around in her mind, Sarah moved on to picture Jareth's strange and beautiful face. She traced his thin, sensual lips with her mind, let her eyes wander away from his pointy, canine teeth and settled on his extraordinary, mismatched eyes.
His eyes.
"Eyes," Sarah said softly. "The two brothers are eyes and the nose is the road they on the opposite sides of!"
She ended her sentence in a fist pump, which promptly led the tiny goblin she was palming to hold on for dear life.
"Oh, geez, sorry little one, I was just excited. Is eyes right? It's right, isn't it?"
"Oh yes, Lady, tis right," Smeekin said shakily, holding onto Sarah's thumb for dear life. He snapped his fingers and suddenly Hoggle was hanging from only his foot. The sprites let out a battle cry and waged war on the much larger creature.
"Yah!" Hoggle yelled, clearly upset by the turn of events. "Get me down! I can't take much more of this!"
"I'm trying, Hoggle! I'm almost there!" Sarah lifted her hand right in front of her face and stared down the petite goblin, who cowered. "Last one, little guy. Better make it a good one."
"Um," Smeekin stuttered. "Um...I...ok. When one does not know what it is, then it is something; but when one knows what it is, then it is nothing?"
That left Sarah stumped. She looked around her, taking in the large, glittering stone walls and the giant tree, desperate for inspiration to strike her.
"What are you waiting fer, Sarah?" Hoggle yelled down at her, dangling from his ankle, swatting at the sprites. "Answer the blasted thing!"
Sarah ignored him. "Can I get a clue?" She asked the goblin, who shook his head.
"No more hints," Smeekin swore solemnly. "So afraid of the dark haired king...I've helped too much already."
That threw Sarah back.
"Don't you mean the light haired king? Jareth?"
"No, no, no," Smeekin shook his head. "Goblin King nice compared to the High King."
"Nice?" Sarah asked, incredulity evident in her voice. "Nice? And who is this High King?"
Smeekin slapped a hand over his mouth in horror. He was shaking, so much so he slipped off Sarah's hand.
"Gotcha!" Sarah cried as she caught Smeekin in mid air. The poor goblin was sobbing.
"There, there, now," Sarah said, patting the poor thing on the back with her finger. "It can't be that bad. You've done such a great job with the riddles."
"Really?" Smeekin asked in a watery voice, taking his hand away from his eyes.
"Really," Sarah assured him. "But you must understand that I have to try to win."
Smeekin nodded and plopped his dirty thumb into his mouth and began to suck on it. Sarah figured he'd be at that awhile, so she tried to think. When one does not know what it is, then it is something; but when one knows what it is, then it is nothing? How can something be nothing once you know what it is? And if you don't know it, that's when it's something? It didn't make any sense. Then, Sarah supposed, it wasn't supposed to make sense, it was a riddle.
A riddle.
Sarah smiled at the tiny goblin. "I just want to say again, you did very well, little one."
"T'anks, Lady," Smeekin said, removing his thumb from his mouth.
"But the answer, ironically enough, is...a riddle."
Little Smeekin started wailing.
"Shh, shh," Sarah hushed, patting him gently on the back. "It's ok, you tried your best. Now, if you wouldn't mind letting my friend down?"
Sarah watched as Smeekin hopped off of her hand and onto the low stone wall surrounding the tree. He looked up at the dwarf, let out a large, embarrassing sob, and snapped his fingers.
"Yaaarg!" Hoggle yelled as he started falling from branch to branch. Sarah, trying to be helpful, held her arms out to catch him, only to watch him land, face first, onto the ground right next to her.
"Bye, Lady," Smeekin said in a fearful voice and, with another snap of his fingers, disappeared into the oblivion.
"Ooof," Hoggle muttered into the ground and Sarah quickly grabbed him by the back of his thick, leather vest and yanked him to his feet. In response, Hoggle kicked her squarely in the shin.
"Ow!" Sarah yelled, grabbing her shin. "What was that for? I got you out of the tree, didn't I?"
"That was for making Jareth mad and him putting me up in the tree in the first place," Hoggle said, and promptly kicked her in the other shin. Sarah lost her balance and fell smack down on her ass, clutching both shins.
"And what the hell was that one for?"
"I thought we was...friends." Hoggle said the word reverently, like it was sacred.
"Of course we're friends," Sarah said as patiently as she could with two throbbing shinbones.
"Then why did you stop calling for me?" Hoggle said, turning his back on Sarah and crossing his arms in front of his chest.
"Calling for you?...Oh Hoggle," Sarah said, the truth dawning on her. "It's not that we weren't friends anymore, it's just that...I grew up. I had to make friends in my own world, too. Can't you see that?"
"All I see is a girl who forgets about her friends as soon as she's finished getting what she wants from them," Hoggle said in a huff. "You're a silly, stupid bint who gets her friends in trouble for all the help they've given her."
"Hoggle, you can't mean that."
"I said it and I mean it."
Sarah felt a tear slip down her cheek as she stared at the dwarf's back. She knew, deep down, that he was right.
"Hoggle," Sarah said, her voice cracked and pleading. "I need you."
"You only need me when you want something," Hoggle said stubbornly.
"I don't think I can do this without you," Sarah said, reaching down for his shoulder and feeling positively awful as he jerked away from her. "It's not just Toby, this time. It's Ludo and Didymus, too. And there are my human friends....Hoggle, they did nothing to deserve this. I need you to help me."
"The only thing they did to deserve being stolen away by the Goblin King is being friends with you."
Sarah felt a pain like an ice shard in her chest. She felt another tear fall from her eye and she didn't bother to wipe it away.
"Hoggle," Sarah said, dropping to her knees. "Please. Help me."
She thought he would turn around at that. He'd see her on her knees and he'd help. He was her foul-weather friend. He'd be there for her in the darkest times, the hardest times.
He didn't even turn around.
"Help yourself, Sarah."
He walked away from her, and, without hesitation, walked out of the oubliette and into her world.
"Hoggle? Hoggle!" Sarah yelled, calling after him, but he did not turn and he did come back. She was shocked; she was sure he would help her. He was her foul-weather friend, after all. But maybe...maybe she had pushed him to his limit. She could deny it to herself as much as she pleased but Sarah knew she had manipulated everyone in the Labyrinth to help her. She was ahead in the game, one friend down, six to go, but knowing she was all alone, Sarah allowed herself a few moments of feeling sorry for herself.
"The ground is not a place for a pretty woman to be sitting," Sarah heard a voice call out to her. Looking up through her tears, Sarah saw a dark haired man leaning against the entrance to the oubliette. He was tall, dressed in old fashioned but simple clothes of a soft gray shirt and dark breeches. His dark, almost black hair, the same shade as hers, was held back in a low ponytail. However, it was his eyes that were the most striking. They were yellow. Not just yellow but golden and deep, like the what you'd imagine the center of the sun being like if you could look at it long enough. Sarah sat for a moment, dumbfounded at this strange man appearing before her so suddenly.
"Excuse me if I sound rude," Sarah said from her knees. "But who are you?"
"Oh, you're not being rude, only curious," the man said amiably enough. "Which is understandable when one finds oneself in such a strange situation and place."
"I've been in stranger," Sarah said cautiously. She began to climb to her feet when the man rushed over and held out his hand.
"Oh, please," the man said, practically tripping over himself to stand by her. "Let me help you."
Sarah looked at the man suspiciously, but held out her hand for him. She took her one hand in both of his and helped her to her feet. Sarah began to pull away but he held her hand fast and pulled her toward him. She began to jerk her hand back but he held on to it, too long. Sarah watched as he brought her hands to his lips and pressed a kiss against the skin of her hand. He reminded Sarah of a sleazy car salesman.
The man gave Sarah what he thought was a winning smile but Sarah really saw as smarmy. She didn't want to be rude, so she smiled warily back. She was beginning to be suspicious of this polite stranger.
"I'm Ash," the man said, bowing slightly at the waist. "And you must be Sarah. I must say, you are not the little girl my brother made you out to be."
"Your brother...," Sarah said, finally pulling her hand from his. She stepped away from Ash, looking over his clothes, his demeanor, his eyes. "Oh...no."
"Oh, yes," Ash said delightedly. "Though it pains me to tell you that Jareth is of my own flesh and blood. But no fear, sweet lady, for I am here to help you."
"Help me?" Sarah asked skeptically. Sarah continued to back away from Ash, until she found herself sitting against the low, stone wall encircling the tree. She had so many questions, so many doubts and suspicions, but somehow she knew that what this man said was true. And as much as she knew this man was Jareth's brother, she knew there was something striking but rotten about him, like molding lace.
"How can I trust you?"
"Well," Ash said, circling Sarah like a mangy, jungle cat. "You might know the old saying, 'the enemy of my enemy is my friend?' Well, Sarah dear, I think you and I are going to be very good friends indeed."
"So, you're saying that two are enemies?"
"Ha!" Ash laughed, and the sound was like a cold, dead thing. "If we're going to be nice about it, I'd say we're not on the best of terms. But the naked truth is...I want him crushed."
"Crushed?" Sarah asked, goose bumps dotting her skin. "That's an awfully strong word to use for family."
"Don't you want to see him crushed?" Ash sounded confused. "Don't you want to be rid of him?"
Sarah became quiet. She didn't know a life that didn't have the Goblin King lurking in the shadows, filling up her nights and daydreams with fantasy and song. She pushed these memories and flights of fancy away most of the time, but sometimes...sometimes she let herself be taken away. Sarah told herself it was harmless, indulging herself in the "what if's". What is life without a little bit of fantasy? As long as the majority of the time she was rooted in the here and now of things, real things and people. She wanted to defeat Jareth, but, did she really want him defeated?
"I want to win," Sarah said slowly. "I want my friends back and I want everyone, including myself and Jareth, to come out this unscathed."
"I promise you that if you stick with me," Ash said, stopping to stand in front of her. "I will help you defeat Jareth. I've already given you a gift."
"Have you?" Sarah asked, not sure she could believe anything this unctuous man said.
"Oh yes," Ash said airily. "Or, my mother did. Those cards you hold...they can do more than guide you."
"Your mother....Madame Endora, she's your mother? Is she Jareth's mother?"
"She is my mother," Ash answered. "But whether she is Jareth's remains to be seen. And what you hold is no mere trifle. Those cards hold great power...you could be nearly unstoppable with them. There are cards in there to unlock doors, make escape routes, even induce pain and suffering. But, like all gifts, it comes with a price."
"And what price might that be?" Sarah asked, knowing where this was going. "Something small like, oh, I don't know, my sense of self, or my freedom, or hell, my first born child? Why don't we just throw my virginity in there and call it a day?"
"Oh, it varies," Ash said, his voice light and nonchalant. He began circling her again. "You might not experience any loss. After all, Jareth did imbue you with certain....abilities."
"Oh yeah, some ability," Sarah said sarcastically. "The ability to charm mythical creatures to my cause. Which, as you can see, does not work as of late." She waved an arm around at the now empty courtyard to indicate how alone she was.
"I think that is just part of your natural charisma," Ash said, chuckling.
"Listen..." Sarah said, her voice trailing off.
"Ash," Ash supplied generously, sweeping into a low bow.
"Ash," Sarah repeated, moving away from him and toward the entrance. "I...appreciate your offer and please, don't take offense when I tell that I cannot accept your help."
"Because of Jareth?" Ash seemed hurt, or as hurt as he could pretend to be.
"In part," Sarah said, edging her way to the entrance of the oubliette. "But mostly because there's just something about that I simply do not trust."
"Aw," Ash said holding his arms out wide. "You can trust me! I'm the High King! Everyone loves me!"
"Not the goblins," Sarah said seriously. "And certainly not me."
"Well then, Sarah," Ash said, his voice turning cold. "We are at an impasse. Don't say I didn't try to help you win."
"I won't," Sarah replied, equally as cold, wanting to be rid of this oily sycophant.
"Just know that you have the power to call on me, should you need me," Ash said, watching Sarah's form fill the entranceway. She was outlined in coal-black night of the Aboveground, as pretty as a picture. "Look to your cards...you'll know who to call."
"Ghostbusters?" Sarah asked innocently.
"Who?"
"Ug, you fairy tale kings and your lack of pop culture references," Sarah lamented to herself.
"At any rate," Ash said, moving on. "Keep me in mind next time you're in a quandary. I'm a pretty helpful guy."
"Sure, Ash," Sarah said, moving through the archway. "Thanks for the offer but I'm pretty good at this Labyrinth thing by now. Goodbye, High King."
Ash watched her go, so lithe and pretty on her feet.
"See you later," the High King promised to the night. And with no one around to hear him, he began to laugh.
* * *
Jareth crushed the crystal in his hand. It turned to glitter and grit, shifting and falling from his gloved hand like grains of sand. He watched it form a tiny pile in the dirt and get swept away in the wind. He leaned against the Ferris Wheel, a great mechanical eyesore of steel and light. He knew Ash would try and meddle; he made it plain to Jareth that he would do just that. However, watching the two of them interacting from his perch in the old birch tree, knowing what Ash would do to her should Jareth fail...
Jareth sensed movement near. The footfalls were closely spaced; his underling was running.
"No need to run," Jareth called to him. "It will only delay our happy little reunion."
"Damn!"
"Come, come now," Jareth calls, not as loud this time. He senses him approaching. "This is no way for a vassal to treat his monarch. I bogged dwarves for less than that, Headcheese."
"It's Hoggle," Hoggle said exasperatedly, approaching his sovereign. "And you know it." He was frightened, as he usually was when he faced Jareth, but he tried to put up a brave, if perturbed, face. But in addition to that, he was in the human world and he had no idea where he was going. He shouldn't have left Sarah, especially when Jareth was so near and so very, very powerful.
"I know it's Hoggle," Jareth answered. "But it is such a terrible name."
"I just want to get back to me garden," Hoggle said, thinking that if he appeared busy at the King's benefit, Jareth would wave his hands and he'd zap him back to the Labyrinth. "I have loads of fairy fumigating to do."
"I'm sure you do," Jareth said. "But I think we have more pressing matters to discuss." Hoggle noticed his king was fingering a long whip, pulling the long, leather weapon back and forth through his fingers. Hoggle stood very still, not wanting to feel the sting of his master's displeasure.
"Really?"
"Yes, really. I know we did not have much time to discuss this matter when I was stringing you up in that tree."
Hoggle muttered something about bird nests in his pants, sprite stabbings, and tree bark up his ass, but Jareth ignored it.
"We need to discuss...Sarah."
Hoggle hated the way his king said her name. There was a particular emphasis on the first syllable, so it sounded like a lover's whisper instead of a name.
"What about her?"
"Are you planning on continuing this pathetic little rebellion against your friend?" Jareth said the word mockingly, holding the title over Hoggle's head like an axe waiting to be brought down on his neck. He was belittling the betrayal that Hoggle had harbored at Sarah for years now, using it as a weapon in his own endgame.
"I dunno," Hoggle answered hesitantly. He kept his eyes on the whip Jareth held ever so lightly.
"Well, from what I know about you," Jareth tells the dwarf. "I know you are weak. I doubt your little revolt against your only comrade will last very long."
Hoggle shrugged, already feeling tendrils of doubt creeping into his mind. He recalls how her face crumpled right before he turned his back on her. And now, standing in front of Jareth, he knows who he'd rather serve.
"What I need from you now, Hoggle, is your trust."
Hoggle didn't even try to hide his disbelief. He might have even snorted, which he knew was incredibly disrespectful, and he braced himself for punishment. When he wasn't beaten or bogged after a few moments time, he felt it safe to open his eyes.
"Trust?"
"Yes, Hogbutt, trust. It is a word, with a correlated concept to go along with it," Jareth said impatiently. He felt several cold drops of rain pelt his face and hair as he stood with his back against the Ferris Wheel. The sun was fully set and the moon was pregnant and bright. Time was steadily slipping away from him.
"How can I trust you after all that...stuff?" Hoggle was honestly mystified. He usually obeyed Jareth because he was afraid of him, certainly not because he trusted him.
"Well, Higgle, I'm glad you asked that because my argument is threefold," Jareth said, dropping his whip to the ground and holding up his hand for Hoggle to see. He held up his three fingers and began to tick down his reasons.
"One," Jareth said, folding one finger into his palm. "I will make your life miserable if you are not with me on this plan of mine. I will force you to de-wing pixies by hand, clean the goblin outhouses with your tongue, and dip you, head first, into the bog of eternal stench every hour on the hour. In fact, that's how we'll tell time now in the Labyrinth from now on, by the hourly Hoggle boggings. Can you understand that?"
Hoggle nodded, though those things sounded like threats as opposed to reasons why he should trust his king.
"Two," Jareth continued, ticking down his fingers. "I have never lied to you."
Hoggle gave him a skeptical look, and Jareth willed himself not to send the dwarf into the Emerald Forest to be dismembered by Fireys.
"I may punt chickens for my amusement and use contrary goblins as cannonballs, but I do not lie. Which is why I'm forced to say that leather vest makes you look fat." Hoggle looked extremely affronted at the insult to his manner of dress. Jareth continued unperturbed.
"Everything I have ever promised, I have fulfilled. Someone wishes a child away to me, I keep my promise and I take them. Someone gets kissed by a beautiful stranger, I keep my promise and I crown them prince of the royal court of the bog. Someone's entire race is slaughtered and rendered nearly extinct, I keep my promise in letting them call my Labyrinth their home, as long as they keep their promise in serving me."
Hoggle had the decency to look abashed and more than a little frightened.
"Which leads me to my third and final reason," Jareth's voice lost its haughty tone and Hoggle sensed that all joking was unequivocally over.
"I am not a kind man, but I am a fair ruler," Jareth said in a low voice. He leaned in close to Hoggle's face and the dwarf was acutely reminded of a voracious bird of prey.
"When my brother, the High King, killed the almost all the dwarves, I took the refugees into my realm. You were young at the time of the exodus, but not too young as to not remember the atrocities he committed against your people. The stories of the great dwarf slaughter is told to goblin children around campfire as scary stories, you know. 'Listen to your elders, work hard, or the High King will cut you open from end to end. Gather round and hear tell of the murder of a million and one dwarves and the king that killed them for the precious gems and jewels they hid so covetously in their mountains.'"
Hoggle was shaking now, not for fear of Jareth but for fear of him, the slayer of families and worlds. The Dark Man, the High King, the Royal Executioner, and the Ash Lord; all names for what Hoggle recognized as the devil himself.
"You have to trust me because if you don't, Sarah will be his."
Hoggle, who had been avoiding Jareth's cold, uneven gaze finally caught the Goblin King's eye.
"No!" Hoggle said, firm and resolute. "Not Sarah."
"Yes, Sarah," Jareth said, deadly serious. Hoggle had never seen Jareth so grave. "Your precious Sarah will be at the mercy of my brother should she win our little game."
"You can't let him have her," Hoggle said fiercely. Jareth was slightly taken aback to see the dwarf close to tears. Hoggle, in a desperate plea, kneeled before his sovereign. "He's a monster. You need to save her. It would be better if she was killed than what he would do to her."
"Don't you think I know that?" Jareth's voice was strained but serious.
Hoggle looked up at Jareth from his knees, not knowing if he wanted to know the answer of his next question.
"What happens if you win?"
It was a simple enough question, one Jareth felt he should be able to answer easily. But there was nothing simple or easy about Sarah. There was nowhere in this world or the next that Jareth could hide Sarah from his brother should he somehow win this little game of theirs. There would be no freedom for her, no place she could go without his protection and she would never forgive him. There was no answer that would leave anyone happy or at peace.
"There is no winner," Jareth said, turning from the dwarf.
"What do you want me to do?" Hoggle sounded terrified, but resolute.
Jareth knew Sarah's capacity for compassion was great; pathetic, insipid creatures were drawn to her goodness like bees to honey. But Jareth was not so removed to not see that there would be no redemption for Hoggle in Sarah's eyes should he betray her again. He recognized that the dwarf was making the ultimate sacrifice and felt he deserved perfect honesty.
"You either help me bring Sarah down or stay the hell out of my way," Jareth warned him. "Because I will crush anything in that crosses my path. The choice is yours, Hoggle."
Hoggle peered up at the Goblin King. Hoggle remembered when he first came to the Labyrinth, days after he experienced the fresh horror of his family's slaughter. He had kneeled before Jareth as a expatriate and swore fealty to him, only to defy him years later, all for a human girl. His king looked older now, worn down, but not beaten. There was an icy fury driving his ruler and as his subject, he would follow him. He would follow Jareth to save the girl that drove Hoggle to defy Jareth in the first damn place and if he died in the process, then at least he was dying for something important.
"I'll help you," Hoggle swore, after only a moment's hesitation. "For Sarah."
"For Sarah," Jareth intoned, his voice switching from solemn to mocking in the hairsbreadth of a second. "And here's to this unholy alliance not crushing under the weight of its own irony."
Hoggle harrumphed and climbed to his feet. "I ain't sure what you said but I know enough that I should be insulted."
"Are you? Insulted?"
"Eh," Hoggle said indifferently, starting to walk away. He only made it a few steps before he stopped, turned, and fixed Jareth with a serious look.
"You'll have to kill 'em," Hoggle said. "The High King. In the end, you'll have to kill 'em."
Jareth's eyes flashed dangerously. Perhaps it was the reflection of the bright, multi-colored bulbs against the rusted steel of the massive, steel skeleton of the Ferris Wheel or maybe it was Jareth's dual-nature shining through. Hoggle's monarch looked more like the visceral, bird of prey in this moment than he did when fully transformed.
"I will not let my brother haunt her footsteps," Jareth swore, more to himself than the dwarf standing in front of him. "If I can rid him of his protection, rid him of his pride, rid him of his power...I will rip him apart."
With that promise, Hoggle watched as Jareth began to change. His body began shrinking on itself, his face compacting and his features becoming smaller, sharper. The magnificent barn owl took flight, his white feathers gleaming against the oncoming darkness.