The goblins had lied.
***
The singer wandered though the empty streets of Berlin.
The goblins were in a panic. Their King, who they had believed immortal and invincible (immortal he had been, but still subject to the rather nasty consequences of being stabbed) was gone. He had left them without a King much less a Queen to rule and tend to the wished away.
The day came but there was no sun. The night fell but there was no moon.
The goblins frantically searched for a likely candidate.
"You're no Piaf or Brel."
"Adequate. Perhaps with a few lessons. Try again later."
"Needs a more mature sound."
These sounds haunted him as he walked the line between East and West.
One of the sometimes-smarter goblins, a certain Hoggle, asked, "Why don't we try Aboveground?"
He was tired, exhausted, but he had no money to get a room. And his girl had left him with broken heart in Paris. He had tried to sing but found his voice diminished. So he had left for Germany, a country as broken as he.
The first time he saw the shifting shadows and eyes where shadows and eyes should not be, he blamed it on his lack of sleep, lack of food.
But the second time, he was wary.
And then something called to him, a bit of cobblestone. Ad he drew nearer, a staircase down revealed itself.
Certain he was dreaming, he descended.
When he opened his eyes he was back in Berlin, standing in a niche in a wall.
And a small glass ball rolled past.
Words, new words, haunted him, paired with visions of mazes, castles, and strange peoples who accepted him. Loved him even.
"You'll find someone true."
"A land serene."
"Nothing will ever hurt again."
He began to wander again, but always casting glances over his shoulder, feeling watched. He was certain he had fallen and hit his head, that these words and melodies and visions were a dream.
But when the small old lady hobbled past, he remembered happiness and dancing, music and joy. It was real, what he had dreamed.
He had to get himself back.
But the staircase was gone. He desperately felt over the stones where the stairs had been.
"No..."
A soft light graced his face.
One of the people from his dream stood there holding a lit match. The goblin smiled and gestured for the singer to follow. His eyes seemed to hold the same promise as the song: "Nothing will ever hurt again."
Hoggle was proud of himself for finding their new King. Now there would be day with a sun. But it was up to the King to find them a moon, the crystal moon.
He was slightly concerned at how fast the singer accepted his new role. But hey. They had a King.
***
The goblins had lied.
Something had hurt.
It was his heart. It was broken.
Again.