HobbleClaw, the unnaturally small messenger goblin, scurried down the hallway as fast as his tiny legs could take him. He turned sharp corners and climbed steep staircases, racing towards the grand hall. The winding vines and damp moss grew thicker as he went on, and clumps of eyeball lichen followed his every move. This route usually terrified him and he would normally go the other (longer) way, but this letter was very urgent: it was addressed to Jareth himself. So, he sucked down his fear and continued on his way to Jareth's study-the room in which the goblin king spent most of his time once Sarah had left.

Finally nearing the study, HobbleClaw slowed to a stop at the end of the hall. He glanced at the open door of the study and lost the nerve he'd built up three staircases ago. He gripped the message nervously with his pudgy little fingers. He shook now like a prisoner on execution day. Every goblin knows that when Jareth gets angry or upset, he takes it out on his subjects. In fact, HobbleClaw knew this a little TOO well. And ever since Sarah had left, it'd been a much more frequent occurrence.

Jareth sat at his desk in his study, staring into one of his crystals. The orb sat on his fingertips, showing a faint but recognizable scene of Sarah cleaning her new house with the help of Hoggle, Ludo, and Sir Didymus. Jareth scowled at the sight. Traitors...he thought angrily. If they thought he wasn't aware of their recurring visits, they were dead wrong, and it sickened him. To think that while he sat-their king sat-writhing in this existential pain while they pranced to and fro with the girl who left him to his sorrow!

His thoughts were soon interrupted by a light and nervous knock on the door. Jareth's ears perked as he set the crystal down and stood, facing the door with a hard expression. The door slowly creaked open to reveal a trembling messenger goblin holding a white envelope. It seemed as though his eyes got wider with each step into the room as he approached his king. But he eventually found himself planting his feet in front of Jareth, trying to hold his head high with no visible signs of fear...

It wasn't working.

Jareth glared down at the poor creature menacingly, always doing the best he could to have the goblins leave him be. HobbleClaw flinched, turning his head to the side and holding out the envelope with a shaky hand.

"S-sir," he said nervously. Jareth glanced at the note, then back at his goblin. Keeping the same expression on his face, the goblin king snatched the note from his grip as the terrified creature shielded himself with his arms. Jareth continued to stare him down until he had completely unsealed the letter contained in the envelope. Then, once he had, he turned his full attention to the words printed on the paper. as he skimmed through the message, Jareth noticed out of the corner of his eye that Hobbleclaw had slowly removed his arms from over his head. He was still shaking, but he was actually able to bring his eyes up to Jareth's face as he waited for his admittance to return to his quarters. Once Jareth had finished reading, the note dropped to his side and he covered his face with his free hand.

"...It's Edna," he said. The room-despite being otherwise empty-filled up with gasps. Poor Hobbleclaw was so frightened by the name that he practically jumped out of his skin and ran for it, even without permission to leave. There were many whispers shared in the walls about what the note might've said.

"What does the queen of the Slakks want with Jareth?" a particularly louder voice spoke over the others, attempting to whisper and failing miserably. The question was so startling, all of the whispers quickly reduced into dead, awkward silence. Jareth turned his head to the wall behind him, which was where the voice had come from. Slowly, he grabbed the crystal he was looking in earlier off of the desk and walked over to it, smashing the orb against the plaster in one swift movement. The crystal, however, did not shatter. Instead, it melted into the wall like butter in a frying pan. Once it had completely disappeared into the mossy stone, the surrounding walls of the room vanished with it. Once it had, a heap of hiding servants, cooks, maids, and more all toppled out of their place inside, falling onto a giant heap on the floor. As soon as they did, the wall replaced itself and the crystal sunk back out of the wall and into Jareth's hand. He made it disappear into thin air with one flick of the wrist as his subjects moaned in pain and agony lying on the floor.

"What does she want with me, you ask?" he inquired, looming over his broken pile of servants. They all lay crumpled on the floor, groaning and grumbling in their discomfort.

"What do you think she wants with me?" Jareth boomed, startling the goblins and causing them to scramble desperately back up to their feet as he continued. When Jareth raised his voice, that meant serious business. "Every time she's summoned me to her kingdom it's been the same request! 'Your kingdom is dying; it's in need of a queen to assist your rule over the goblins! I don't think you know anyone other than me who's perfect for the task.'" The final goblin to pull himself onto his feet, Haggy-Jareth's most trusted assistant-crawled out from underneath the other, larger goblins that had fallen on top of him and dusted himself off frustratedly.

"But sir," he said, looking up at Jareth with a blank and calm expression, "that's the truth." There was no sign of fear or uncertainty in neither his tone nor his expression. Most others who spoke directly with their king trembled in fear of the unknown, especially after Sarah had left him in such a constantly dismal state, but not Haggy. Haggy had answered to the king of the goblins even back when Jareth's father was king, so he had been around to see it all. There was nothing more that could ever surprise or scare him.

Jareth was silent a moment. He took a knee, leaning in close to Haggy and examining him with pure concentration. "...You remind me of the babe," he commented. Haggy crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow, staring right into his eyes without flinching.

"What babe?" he asked. Jareth stared into his eyes and rested his chin on his fist.

"The babe with the power."

"What power?" Jareth's anger returned in a rush of black silk, his cape wrapping around his legs as he stood. He grabbed the goblin by his shirt collar and raised him up in the air until they were truly face-to-face. The goblin's eyes widened as he rose higher than he had ever experienced, though still managed to keep relatively calm given the circumstances.

"The power to rip my heart out! Haven't we already gone through this?!" Haggy choked and gagged, his legs dangling about six feet above the ground.

"But sir, what about the one with the power of voodoo?" he asked, desperately gasping for breath.

"That's the same babe, you imbecile!"

"Oh, yes. I've completely forgotten." With that, he was dropped to the floor, an extremely frustrated Jareth staring down upon him.

"Go prepare the lobriders. I'm going to pay a little visit to our rival kingdom." With no questions asked, the goblin nodded and scurried off towards the front door of the castle.

The red sun burned over the rocky expanse of the kingdom of the Slakks. The terrain was dark and wet, and any earth beneath the jagged rock slates that sloped steeply in one direction or the river stones which trickled water through their tiny creases was nowhere to be seen. Waterfalls poured down from the tip of the jagged slates and onto the uncut path that Jareth and his lobriders took straight towards the castle.

Many shadows were cast in this land. Their sun did not provide much illumination. But the Slakks liked it this way, or, at least, were used to it. None of them had ever experienced much else. Whenever Jareth had come to pay a little visit to his sworn enemy, all of the creatures had receded into their caves for protection.

The Slakks were a very mysterious race, and though Jareth had never truly seen one, he knew that their kind would never be accepted amongst his goblins. There was too much sunlight, too little rocks, and the goblins had more of a straightforward sort of nature. They tended not to look out for anyone but themselves, and they often found pleasure in messing with others. Jareth's father once told him that the Slakks were not to be trusted-that they and their leaders all had tempers that couldn't be controlled. Jareth feared that if their paths had ever done so much as cross, there might never be peace amongst them.

Jareth approached the castle gates with a high head and gritted teeth. He was not looking forward to this upcoming conversation. But he always comes when Edna summons him so as not to spark any further reason for war. It might've been a bit too late for that-the woman already hated him to a point. But there was no need to make her any angrier.

Jareth demounted at the front of the gate, forcing his way through the doors and making a beeline for the castle steps. River stones crumbled into themselves beneath his feet, and the water beneath them soaked his toes, but he didn't care. He just wanted to get this over with so he could return to his depressing existence in his study where he belonged. Climbing up the curved stone steps, he pushed open the thick, wooden door lined with iron plates and bolts and stepped inside.

He knew the way like it was his own castle. He was no stranger to the intertwined stone towers or their darkened, muggy walls. He grabbed a torch that hung beside the door on an iron sconce and proceeded forward, up those familiar staircases and down those nostalgic halls. As always, there was never anyone to greet him or even stumble upon, which made Jareth wonder who all of the extra rooms in the castle were meant for, anyway. Of course, they were probably all in hiding, as well. Finally, Jareth came upon the stone bridge that reached out to the castle's third, non-clustered tower and led straight to Edna's throne room. He set his torch in another empty sconce beside the open entrance to the bridge and continued on into the gigantic room.

Jareth bowed down grudgingly in the presence of Edna, the queen of the Slakks. She sat before him on her throne, seperated by a set of three steps leading to the platform on which she and the throne were placed. The throne was hand carved out of slick obsidian, a design that branched out into a pair of detailed, curved horns which served as arm rests. All around them, a pool of water ran down a slightly sloped hill seperated into small individual rivers running through the cracks between rocks and stones of all sizes. At the end of the hill, resting at the bottom of the wall that held the only door from which Jareth had entered, were grates that led to pipes travelling back up to the top again, recycling the unused water. The only areas bearing no liquid and/or rocks were the platform, stairs, and a straight pathway, beginning at the door, and ending at the stairs. Jareth always resented the way that wherever one stepped in her kingdom, it all basically looked the same.

"You have summoned me once again, Edna. And what, shall I ask, for this time?" Jareth asked, straightening his back and making eye contact with her. She flashed a taunting smile at the goblin king with thin, blood red lips attatched just below a pointed nose on her pale face. She had long, thick eyelashes and purple eyelids, accompanied by small eyebrows and long, flowing, fudge colored hair that curled elegantly past her shoulders. She wore a grand tiara to symbolize her position in her monarchy, shaped with no less than solid gold for her royal highness. She wore robes of violet silk that collected in small bunches on the ground. Jareth still anxiously awaited the day when that dress would trip her and make her tumble down the steps before her throne. Around her neck was a stone pendant the color of amber. Now, Jareth did not know much about the extent of her own magic or how she used it, but what he did know was that any power she had was not hereditary-it came straight from that pendant which always sat just above her chest.

"You know very well why you're here," Edna insisted, rising gracefully to her feet. Jareth bowed his head down, breaking eye contact, and kept it there as she began to walk over to him with slow steps, each one echoing off the walls with a loud click. He grimaced at his feet, rolling his eyes at the floor as he waited impatiently for her to continue. "Without little miss 'it's not fair' around...let's face it: you kindom is coming to an end." She waved her hand and a wisp of smoke appeared before Jareth. At first, it was just a wisp without form. Then, it gradually began to shape itself into a girl about Jareth's height, with long, chestnut hair and a cream colored dress. She had luscious pink lips and long eyelashes. The girl's form that the fog had taken was outstandingly beautiful. It was the image of none other than Sarah Williams, the maiden who'd stolen both his hope and his heart.

"Jareth...I-I'm so sorry I left you. I was such a fool! Please, do understand that I see now that my heart belongs to only you, and it will always be that way," the figure pleaded. The voice was an exact replica of the actual Sarah Williams', and her touch felt real and true. Jareth turned his head to the side and gritted his teeth angrily, choking down his sorrow and covering it up in the moment with his hatred for Edna. In a flash, the fog disappeared, along with the image that captured all of his feelings into only one word that came from the lips of an angel-his angel. Edna let out an evil chuckle, which gradually became louder and quickly turned into a high pitched cakcle.

"You fell in love with that? That's my competition?! You're pathetic, Jareth," she commented. Jareth tightened his hands into fists and turned his head back to face her. His lips curved into a sly grin. "Some way to treat one you're trying to wed," he said. The queen of the Slakks crossed her arms, wearing the same expression.

"Some way to treat an old soul mate of yours," she shot back. At the mentioning of their past, Jareth's smile disappeared. He shook his head.

"As I was saying, then," Edna continued with her earlier statement. Jareth bowed his head low again like before, and Edna grinned in triumph. She had achieved what she was aiming for; she had released the goblin king's emotions. So far, she was winning.

"Your kingdom is in need of an assistant ruler. Face it: The Bog of Eternal Stench is bubbling over, your kingdom is in shambles-"

Jareth slammed his fist against the wall closest to him with an agonized cry. She was really starting to make him angry. Edna closed her eyes and waited for his outburst to cease before going on.

"...And your powers are weakening outside of the labyrinth's walls. But I believe that if we joined forces, we could-"

"It's too late for that, Edna!" Jareth flipped around to face her, his eyes wild and crazed with fury. "I loved you once, but I was young and foolish! If I'd known about the horrid things you were capable of, I would've never taken that chance!" Again, Edna remained calm and silent, waiting patiently for his heavy breathing to simmer and his gaze to soften.

"I'll cut right to the chase, then," she said. Jareth scoffed and shook his head in disbelief. She walked swiftly over to Jareth and leaned in close, barely five inches away from his face. "I have a proposition for you. If you are to have the little brat, Sarah, fall in love with you in...say...a year's time, then the deal is cancelled and I shall never bother you again. However, if you fail, I shall be your kingdom's new queen. Do we have a deal?" Jareth stepped back and thought for a moment. Edna knew he could never resist a wager. Could he actually win over Sarah's affections? A year seemed like it could be a decent amount of time to do so in, yet he felt there should be just a little more. Other than that, he was confident he could win and gain both his happiness and his peace back forever.

Edna held out a hand for him to shake. "Do we have a deal?" she repeated, nodding towards her outstretched hand.

"...Add another month and you have yourself a deal," he demanded. She smiled, and Jareth took this smile as a sign of agreement. He still hesitated to shake the hand anyway, though eventually did so. As they shook, she challenged him with menacing eyes.

"When I win, your kingdom shall be greater than it's ever been," she stated. Jareth grinned, accepting her challenge.

"And when I win, your kingdom won't stand a chance."