A Misplaced Dwarf

Summary: In a fit of pique, Jareth put Hoggle in a bizarre, new situation. The story takes place one year after Sarah and Bilbo's respective adventures.

Disclaimer: I do not own either Labyrinth or The Hobbit.

Chapter 1

Jareth sat on his throne disconsolately, watching many of his subjects visit Sarah through his crystal. She most frequently called for Hoggle, Ludo, and Sir Didymus. Others also managed to get called. Even the Fieries were called. But Jareth, the Goblin King… He was never invited.

The one person who defeated him in his Labyrinth was but a human child. Oh, how she caught his imagination! But he had no power over her, and he couldn't even visit without an invitation. She was still only a child of sixteen, but friendships can be cultivated, and relationships can be developed. None of this had any meaning, however, if she wouldn't deign to talk to him.

Ah, Hoggle, Sarah's dwarven friend, returned. He threw his crystal and it disappeared with his message.


Hoggle came back from a lovely visit with Sarah. She adored her baby brother Toby, and appreciated him far more than she did a year ago. She got on much better with her stepmother, and things were starting to look up for her. He was about to go out and trim the hedges at the border of the Labyrinth, and was surprised to see one of Jareth's crystals.

He reached for it, and it burst, speaking the message: "Hoggle, I have need of you here at the palace." He sighed and left his pruning shears in their box. He exited the door and was overtaken by a crystal that deposited him in front of the Goblin King.

Jareth didn't appear to be angry, so Hoggle didn't think he was in trouble. That could change in a heartbeat, but Hoggle thought he was safe. For now. Looking up a bit nervously, he asked, "You called, yer Majesty?"

"I did, indeed. It's been a year since Sarah defeated my Labyrinth. She calls on any number of my subjects. Even the worms get called! Yet she never calls me."

Hoggle paused. Did the king want advice or consolation? Or did he merely wish to vent? Jareth's creased brows only displayed his vexation with the situation. He seemed to want a response of some sort. "Well, perhaps she's afraid if she called for you, you'd take Toby away again."

Jareth frowned. "Hogbrain…"

"It's Hoggle!" he corrected the man indignantly.

The monarch continued as if he were uninterrupted. "She has nothing to fear from me, as she rightly declared I have no power over her. Her, her darling brother, her parents, anyone in her sphere of influence in her world. Your spurious suggestion is irrelevant."

Hoggle shrugged. "But she don't know that."

Jareth sighed and shook his head. "Does she at least ask about me?"

The dwarf nodded. "Sometimes she asks how you are. Once, she even told me she enjoyed dancing with you, but then she shook herself and changed topics."

"Did she mention whether or not she would care to dance again?"

Hoggle grimaced. These questions were getting personal, and Hoggle didn't know how to proceed without overstepping boundaries. "Not really, yer Majesty, though she hums a song she said you danced to."

Jareth whispered, "All she has to do is ask."

"I suppose so. You'd have to take it up with her."

"Indeed." That was the crux of the problem. "Hoggle," The dwarf was as touched by the tenderness of his tone as he was by the usage of his proper name. "Next time you visit with her, tell her to call for me."

Hoggle plucked up his courage. "Jareth, I'll take any message you like, but I won't ask her to do anything that makes her uncomfortable."

Jareth grew impatient. "Hogwart, I am your king, and you will do as I say."

Putting his hands on his hips, Hoggle took a stand. "I won't do nothin' ta hurt Sarah again. I'm not sure what that peach of yours did to her, but…"

"Hoggle, this is not up for debate. Tell her that I want to see her, and convince her to call for me, or I'll…"

"You'll drop me into the Bog of Eternal Stench again?" Hoggle's defiance belied his fear.

The impudent creature! "Of course not, dear Hoggle," he purred. "You've already been there. No." Hoggle wasn't sure whether to be relieved or worried. "I'll send you somewhere there's a Goblin King far worse than I am."

"But…"

"Convince her."

"Not if she don't want to."

Jareth sighed, raising an eyebrow, and said, "Very well." With a wave of Jareth's hand, Hoggle was gone.


Hoggle fell face first into the grass. Knowing the Goblin King wouldn't send forth his subjects without keeping an eye on them with a crystal, Hoggle stood up and shook a fist at the sky. "You rat, Jareth! I'm not gonna do anything to hurt her!" Now that he had that out of his system, he tried to get his bearings.

Hoggle looked around and noticed he was not far from a river in the shadow of a mountain. "I've not seen mountains so tall back home."

"I'm not sure you'd find another mountain like this anywhere," an amused voice said from behind him. Hoggle spun to see two people two heads taller than he was, but not as tall as Sarah or Jareth. "Who are you, and what manner of being are you?"

Hoggle gulped, as both people before him wore chain mail and wore rather impressive weapons. He himself was unarmed. "My name's Hoggle, and I'm a Dwarf. Who are you, and where is this?"

Both strangers raised their eyebrows and shared a glance. Why was this person who claimed to be a Dwarf beardless and so small? And why would he not proudly declare his illustrious lineage before other Dwarves and offer his and his family's service? Whatever the reason, they noted the fear radiating from him, and decided to put him at ease, and responded in kind.

One of the taller fellows chuckled kindly. "How does a Dwarf not know of the Lonely Mountain? But we'll come back to that. I'm Balin, and this is my brother, Dwalin. We're Dwarves who currently serve Dain son of Nain, King Under the Mountain."

Dwalin studied Hoggle. "Because of your size, we mistook you for a Hobbit."

Hoggle was confused. "I never heard of a Hobbit."

Balin stroked his beard. "You are unusual for a Dwarf. You have no beard, which is usually the pride of Dwarves."

Hoggle raised his eyebrows. "I ain't never seen a Dwarf with a beard before."

Dwalin raised one eyebrow. "And I've never seen a Dwarf older than fifty years without one. Come – if you've never heard of the Lonely Mountain, you must come and pay us a visit."

Hoggle let these taller, strange Dwarves lead him to their home. "And, as you say, what manner of being is Dain?"

Balin seemed uncertain of what to make of Hoggle's question. "He's a Dwarf, of course. Where were you a year ago, when the ravens sent a call to arms for Dwarves to come to the aid of Thorin Oakenshield? This should be common knowledge."

Hoggle shook his head as if to clear cobwebs. "Call to arms? There ain't been a war in the Underground in all my hundred years! A year ago, I was helping a human, Sarah Williams, through the Labyrinth. Jareth wanted me to lead her back to the beginning, but Sarah called me her friend."

"Friend?" Dwalin cocked his head. "While we have a working trade relationship with the humans in the river town of Dale, I would not say that we are close enough to be friends. And with a female, yet!"

Hoggle frowned. "Jareth wasn't exactly pleased, either. But at first, she…" He was embarrassed to talk about how she bribed him with her plastic bracelet. It was still one of his most prized possessions. And the fact that later she took his jewels to entice him to help her… He was so embarrassed, he decided that he would never reveal that to anyone (besides Jareth, who already noticed it at the time that it happened).

He told himself that he would have helped her anyway. Despite all the underhanded things Jareth made him do, Sarah insisted they were friends. They were friends, weren't they? "She made it easy to BE friends. Especially since I ain't never had a friend before." He grimaced. "But he means to take advantage of that friendship now."

Balin considered the small stranger's words. The situation seemed complicated. "Who is Jareth?"

Hoggle frowned. "He's the king I serve. I'm his gardener, among other things."

Dwalin scratched his head. "You must be quite far from home if you were so far removed from the dealings of Dwarves that you missed a rather important call to arms. The war's over, of course. But how did you get here? Where are you from?"

Hoggle heaved a frustrated sigh. "The Goblin King sent me here." His eyes flew wide open when both bigger Dwarves drew their arms, Balin with a battle axe and Dwalin with a short sword. "What…"

Dwalin raised his sword to Hoggle's throat. "That's enough from you. We thought to give you a royal welcome, but we have no love for a traitorous dwarf who would serve a goblin king."

Having no weapons of his own, Hoggle immediately surrendered. He whispered, "Jareth, what have you done?"