A Game of Love and War

A Labyrinth/Lost crossover by S. Kiley

Sarah could not stop thinking about him.

In general, she thought about whether or not he was real. Specifically, she thought about whether he could—or would—rescue her and the others. It was hard to see through the fog of confused emotions that surrounded the event—to understand exactly what had transpired between them and to predict whether he would now think of her as friend or foe.

She had been surely and steadily rationalizing it all in her mind as days passed without rescue and they began to run out of the vital niceties of life she had always been accustomed to—such as deodorant. It had only been a game was her way of thinking. He liked games—he liked cheating at them, too. He'd taught her how to cheat—using his own subjects to help her out, the same way he used her dreams to try to defeat her.

All was fair in his game—a game of love and war and he certainly wouldn't be bitter just because she'd come out the victor, would he? In any case, it had been twenty years ago and right now a Goblin King seemed as good a way as any for getting off craphole island.

She'd confided only to Shannon, who had stopped coming by to swap clothes and magazines soon after. The doctor had come to see her soon after and talk to her about how stress can make people think strange things. Stress could also make you remember strange things. Sarah had been fifteen when she'd gone to the Underground to rescue her stepbrother. She'd come back and after a good night's sleep promptly forgot the entire event until thirty-six days ago when her life had flashed before her eyes as Oceanic Air Flight 815 burst apart and crash landed on a tiny dot in the middle of nowhere.

Sarah had heard the whispers in the jungle—and they sounded like the shufflings of Goblin feet to her ears. In her mind, she had started to build fantasies about meeting up with her old friends, living in the Underground permanently (she was pretty sure the bog of eternal stench would pale next to the smell of forty unwashed, undeodorized people). Or maybe she could make a bet with the Goblin King (deals, she knew, would not work out in her favor) to get herself off this island and back to her nice one bedroom apartment in sweet, safe, boring Pennsylvania.

She had tried just calling his name. Alone in the jungle, she screamed for him to come to her at the top of her lungs, but all she received for her trouble was a hoarse throat and another talking to by Jack—this one complete with 'sleeping pills'. She had tried wishing herself away, and when that got her nowhere she tried wishing Shannon away (who had been telling everyone she was crazy, and completely deserved to be turned into a Goblin in Sarah's mind). She had tried differing combinations of the words in hopes that maybe she'd remembered her original twelve—"I wish the goblins would come and take you away right now"— incorrectly.

After the pregnant lady had her baby, an evil idea began to germinate in Sarah's mind. Maybe the Goblin King wouldn't come take away adults. What was the bet after all? Solve the Labyrinth in thirteen hours—give or take a few—and win back whatever it was you had wished away—lose—and it would be his forever—and he would turn it into a Goblin. She guessed a good many people lost that bet—accounting for the wild litters of Goblins that she had fought through on her way to the castle. Goblins were easy to control and she knew Jareth liked things easy—one of the reasons he'd made the Labyrinth so difficult. But children were also easy to control. They had simple motivations and desires in comparison to adults. Eating candy, for example, made them happy without making them feel guilty at the same time. So it made sense that he wouldn't come take away adults (or children who are too old—she had tried wishing Walt away too). They'd be too much of a headache for the Goblin King—too much for him to deal with.

But a baby—a baby would make a good drooling goblin.

Charlie settled down for the night in front of Claire's tent. He had started doing it in case Claire went into labor, and now Aaron gave him a good excuse to keep close to her. Charlie had never been good at waiting. He wanted things fast and now and it made him crazy to be close to her without being with her. Charlie had let himself fall pretty hard in two weeks' time and despite Claire's rejection just before she was taken, he'd seen evidence that she liked him—he'd read her journal and it had given him an infinite amount of patience. She liked him, and she let him be around her and the baby and he held onto that crumb of information to keep him steady when he felt like hauling Claire to her feet and shouting, 'don't you love me yet? I'm going crazy for you'.

So he was biding his time. He figured his odds of winning her affections were decent, what with them being stranded on a deserted island and the baby's idiot father thousands of miles away. Charlie did not consider himself the pinnacle of responsibility, but he liked to think that even in the worst days of his heroin addiction he would not have abandoned a woman pregnant with his child. And certainly not if he'd been clean like he was now. And especially not if the woman was Claire.

He was just drifting off to the cooing sounds of the baby inside and Claire's unconscious sleeptalking when he heard the sounds of an argument coming closer and closer to the tent. He lifted one eyelid, trying to guess who it was by their footwear. A pair of neon green flip flops and a set of black velvet books—Shannon and . . .?

"But I don't understand—where's Jareth, who are you?"

"I am the Goblin King, who do you think I am?'

"You most certainly are not the Goblin King—I've met him, his name is Jareth—"

"Jareth was the old Goblin King. He got fired."

"Fired? What do you mean fired? Like he got a pink slip?"

"Pretty much."

"Why?"

"He did a bad job."

"How?"

The feet stopped a few feet away. Charlie wondered if he was really asleep and dreaming. This wasn't a real conversation, was it? The velvet boots turned toward the flip flops.

"Uhm, princess, you won. That's not supposed to happen. He got fired, I got his job."

"But I didn't want you to come, I wanted Jareth!"

"Well you should be careful what you wish for. You wished for the Goblin King and here I am. And everyone says humans get smarter as they age. Hah."

"But I don't want you to take the baby—it's not even my baby! I just wanted to talk to Jareth."

Take the baby? Charlie opened both eyes and lifted his head from the sand cautiously. A few feet away that crazy woman Shannon had been yapping on about yesterday stood talking to what looked like a rather fat frog swathed in black velvet and terribly unflattering white spandex. Charlie blinked once, slowly and sat up. The frog had giant tusks coming from its face, which looked surprisingly boar-like, despite the webbed hands that poked out from the black velvet ruffles that compromised a pair of sleeves. His mouth hung open as he tried to comprehend what lay in front of him. A gasp came from behind him and then he felt Claire kneel beside him.

"Charlie," she whispered. "Charlie, do you see that?"

He nodded. "Do you?"

"I think so," she said in awe. "What is it?"

The frog-like thing huffed. "Well if it's not your baby, you can't come after it. You can't come to the Labyrinth."

The crazy woman put her hands on her hips. "Look, I don't want to come to the Labyrinth. I just wanted to talk to Jareth. How can I get a hold of him?"

"I don't know. He didn't leave a forwarding address."

"Well who fired him?"

"The Labyrinth did."

"How can a maze fire someone?"

"Look, who is going to come after the baby? Or is this a free goblin I'm getting?" The frog-like thing licked its lips . . and tusks. It had a huge electric blue tongue. "I could use a midnight snack." Charlie began to get a sinking feeling in his chest.

"You eat them?" crazy woman asked, horrified.

"Claire, is Aaron okay?" he whispered.

Frog-like thing shrugged. He and the crazy lady seemed to be lost in a world of their own. Charlie was pretty sure he wanted it to stay that way. "What else would I do with them?"

"Jareth used to let them just . . . hang around, I guess. They would fight for him, but I think they mostly just wandered around singing songs."

The frog-like thing seemed to consider this a moment. "I never was one for music. But I do know food."

"Look, can I please talk to Jareth?"

"Who's coming after the baby? Who's baby is it?" Claire pulled herself to her feet and retreated into the tent, hurrying towards Aaron's suspiciously-quiet crib.

Crazy lady's eyebrow shot up. "I will tell you who's coming after the baby if you let me talk to Jareth."

"Jareth, Jareth, Jareth," the frog-like thing mimicked. "Sure, I'll let you talk to Jareth, we have a deal. Who's coming after the baby?"

"They are," crazy lady said. She pointed directly at Charlie and Claire. "They're the parents, they're coming after the baby."

Claire screamed. "Aaron's gone!"

The world suddenly seemed to explode, colors bending around each other, and radiant white light shooting through every visible point in the universe at the same time. When Claire came to, she found herself standing next to Charlie in a field overlooking a very large and sinister-looking outcropping of rocks. The frog-like thing and the crazy lady stood a few feet away, still arguing.

"That's not fair, you said you'd let me talk to him."

"And you are most certainly allowed to talk to him—provided you can find him."

"You deliberately misled me—we had a deal!"

The frog-like thing laughed. "What a hoot. You of all people should know, you don't make 'deals' with the Goblin King. Good luck kids. You'll need it!" The frog-like thing evaporated before her eyes and Claire gasped.

"Where are we?" Charlie murmured. He looked up at the featureless sky above.

Claire turned on the crazy lady. "Where's Aaron?" she demanded.

Crazy lady turned and looked at her guiltily. "I—"

"Where's my baby?" Claire asked again, taking a menacing step towards her.

"The Goblin King has him in his castle. Come on, we'd better start heading that way," she said, shaking her head. "I think I remember where the entrance is."

"Who the bloody hell is the Goblin King!" Charlie asked.

Crazy lady glared at him. "Walk and talk, Driveshaft. We've got thirteen hours if he's feeling generous and about nine and a half if he's not."