Disclaimer: I do not own Labyrinth. Or the Word program. Yada yada.

Interview With A Goblin King

Interview Number Two:

Hoggle.

It seems a bit clichéd, at least to your average, everyday Labyrinth fan.

Hoggle - the dwarf, the unofficial gatekeeper to the Labyrinth - keeping the swarm of fairies away with his trusty spray bottle of water. But as I approach my next subject, it certainly wasn't the same scene as your average, everyday Labyrinth fan would remember.

The dwarf's grip on his spray bottle is so tight, I can see his mangled brown fingers turning white from the pressure. His bushy eyebrows are drawn together tightly, his lips in a thin, angry line. He sprays the swarm with defiance in his actions, his body as a whole thrusting with the motions of his fingers. Gone are the happy cries of victory as yet another member of the swarm is knocked down by the steady stream of water, replaced by silence that would make even the oldest mute, Above or Under, feel heavy with uncomfortableness.

Slowly, I come up behind Hoggle, gently clearing my throat. I can see from his profile that his blue eyes become wide with alertness, as he quickly spins on his heels. Upon spinning, his expression becomes harsh and angry, as if the very sight of me is too much to handle. I raise my arms up, as if in surrender, and clear my throat for the second time.

"Please, sir, a moment of you ti-" I cut myself off, leaning into him, "Why did you seem so angry as you were spraying, Hoggle?"

He raises his left index finger, pointing it accusingly at me. "You!" He whisper-shouts, wagging his finger in my face, "You had to come up in here, didn't you!" I can tell that my face becomes marred with confusion, because he continues his rant, offering an explanation.

"You had to come in here and get all friendly with the Goblin King, didn't you?" I open my mouth to explain, but he waves it off, "You think you can replace Sarah like that? Do you reali-"

"Please, stop!" I yell, heaving my notebook and pen at the ground. "You have got it all wrong!" He retreats, hooking his spray bottle through a loop on his brown trousers. Sliding my thumbs into the belt loop on my jeans, I take a cautious step forward, shaking my head. "No, no, please, I would never- me and Jare- you've got to be kidding...No, never." Sighing heavily, I plop down onto the ground, dropping my head in my hands. Massaging my temples, I hear him nervously cough, and I see him fidgeting with his fingers through my own.

"I was being so hard on the fairies because-well, they've really been gettin' into my garden. They take my flowers-my own flowers!-back to their land, and then try tellin' people they planted 'em themselves." He stops for a moment, scratching his head, "It's agitatin', you know?" I nod my head in agreement, even though I couldn't really relate. Smoothing down his vest, he speaks.

"Anyway," His words seem to carry the same agitation he spoke of so vividly, "What brings you here?" I smile politely, remembering the manners that have been shoved down my throat since I was able to speak.

"I wanted to talk to you-" He grumbles, something about 'talkin' to these silly fangirls' "-about Sarah." Instantly, his heavy head shoots up, as do his eyebrows. Placing his hands on his hips, he takes a few steps towards me, and I can tell he is questioning my motives. "Not just about Sarah," I quickly spill out, crossing my arms and looking above him, to the Labyrinth. "About everything that happened."

"Oh, well, why would you want to know, anyhow? What good'll it do you?" He says, walking away from me. Using my hands, I push myself off of the dirt, following the dwarf on his heels.

"You must know how many people know the story of the King who fell in love with the girl?" I ask, but he barely regards my question, "Well, for as many people who know the story, at least half manipulate it into their own." He stops. "I wanted to make sure I get it right. It's just been twisted so many times." Abruptly, he turns around, the anger back in his eyes.

"If you are one of those people that know the story so well," He puts poison into his words that even I could not match, "Why don't you already know this stuff?" Hands on his hips, he cocks his head to one side, and raises his right brow.

For a moment I find myself speechless, stammering over my words. As I gain composure back from Hoggle's outburst, I walk up to him, lowering my voice. "I know the story from my point-of-view," I say, resting a hand on his shoulder, "But that's not enough."

Roughly, he jerks himself away from my hand, staring vacantly back at me, "Oh, it ain't never enough for you damned Abovegrounders, is it?"

Again, confusion. "Why are you getting so angry about this?"

He sighs, and looks to his hands. I can see that they are dirtied by the work he does, some fingers red and raw from pulling weeds and digging. He glides his left ring finger down his right hand, tilting his head, as if to examine the flesh. "Most of you who come here-wishing away a baby, because I ain't never seen someone come here like you are-don't ask for my, or anyone's, advice. They just trample on through as if they are the greatest thing. Sarah, she was different. She knew she was in a much different place than what she was used to. She asked for my advice, even when I was being hard about it. And..."

"And?" I question.

He looks to me, eyes wide and loving at the idea of Sarah, "And she didn't trample my garden." He looks over his left shoulder, at his garden. "It ain't nothing special, that I know, but I like keepin' it up. And she said that," He walks over to the wall, where multiple white flowers adorn the brick, "These were her favorite. I brought her a batch once, and she loved it. Special thing about these," He plucks a flower from the brick, and walks over to me, "is that, like most of the royals here, they don't die. Well," Taking advantage of my leaning position, he places the flower behind my right ear, "not easily, anyway."

Fingering the flower, amazed at the silk-like texture against my fingers, I release a dreamy sigh, before snapping back to Hoggle. "Do you visit her often?" His shoulders droop a bit, and he stuffs his hands into the pockets of his trousers.

"We would," I'm sure he is talking about Didymus and Ludo,"but we gotta be careful, you know?" I nod, and he nods as well, "His Majesty, I don't know if he's keepin' an eye on her or what."

"He hasn't punished you for what you did, twenty-some years ago?" I ask, recalling the conversation I had with the King. Hoggles shakes his head.

"Nawh, he's just probably waiting for the right time," He says it in a way that convinces me he doesn't believe they will ever be punished, "You know how perfect everything must be with him." I chuckle at that thought, but Hoggle remains silent.

"Hoggle?" I begin, and he lifts his gaze to meet mine, "Do you think..." I pause, trying to find the right words, "Do you think Sarah would come back here?"

He furrows his brows, "For us?"

"For you, and..." I look towards the castle. Looking back at Hoggle, his eyes are locked on the castle, and I can see something burning behind them. A brief instant of hate, defiance, and...jealousy?

Finally, he looks back at me, releasing one final sigh.

"I really don't know." Picking up his spray-bottle, I can see him spraying the fairies once again. But this time, the grip isn't as tight, there are small cries of pleasure, and the dwarf's step is a little lighter. He looks to me, and smiles knowingly.

"If you go that way," He points to the area behind me, where a thick, dark forest spreads out for what seems like miles, "Make an immediate left, walk a few walks, and you should see my cottage. It's in there, you don't have to wait for a call. Just be quiet about it." I nod to him, smiling broadly, and he smiles back, before returning to his work.

Making my way into the forest, I prepare for my third and final subject. Which may just be the hardest.