Disclaimer: I don't own the Labyrinth nor any of its wondrous characters. I just like making them dance to my merry tune!
Silver and blue streaks of glittery eye shadow ran down Jareth's face as he stood to his full height. Foul bog juice covered him from head to heel, sluicing down his ruined clothes. He ran a gloved hand over his face, further smearing his makeup until it loosely resembled a sort of fabulous camouflage war paint. In the old dead bog tree, the disembodied Firey's head laughed even harder. Tears now streaming down it's furry face.
The Goblin King, silent in his white-hot rage, strode through knee-deep brown filth towards the shore where his unfortunate subjects stood. All the while he was trying desperately to block out the sensation of slimy water entering his boots and gathering around his toes, and the cold drip-drip of something sliding down his hair, into the neck of his shirt and between his shoulder blades.
Sir Didymus snapped into action immediately, "Y..Your Majesty, a mishap, a mistake! We apologise profusely, my liege. You must understand...an accident, I..I told him not to play, Sire, didn't I Ludo?"
Ludo wrinkled his face up as Jareth stepped onto their shore, "King smell baaad!", the gentle giant wafted a large hand in front of his nose.
Thunder rumbled and lightening struck nearby as the Goblin King's temper snapped. A crystal appeared with a gesture of his left hand then danced into his right. With a deadly expression, he fixed each of them with a hard look.
Sir Didymus gave out a little squeak. Ambrosius whimpered, Ludo shuffled from foot to lumbering foot looking remorseful. The Firey's head finally stopped laughing, the sound dying out like a worn down toy.
Jareth began in a low, icy tone, "I have neither the time, nor inclination, to explain to you idiotic, mindless, moronic beasts the gravity of what you have just done. The disaster you have caused for your King! LOOK AT ME! I should banish each of you for this malodorous act of treason!" He let this hang in the air for a moment, gliding the crystal over his hands. "Instead, you are all banished to the oubliettes, awaiting further retribution. You had better pray for my success for I assure you, my witless subjects, my failure in this endeavour is your end." With that, he threw the crystal at the small group who vanished from the Bog.
Jareth, now alone, surveyed the state of his clothing. He plucked at the once-fine, lace trimmed shirt, which was now a sour brown-yellow rag and sighed. "Well, this outfit is ruined" he said before vanishing back to the castle.
When the Goblin King arrived back in the Throne Room, his subjects noticed there was, for once, no glitter. Just a pervasive stink that hung in the room like a putrid fog. The magic of the Bog of Eternal Stench was that, everyone smelt something a little different, all foul, like your own personal brand of vile. Dimwitted as they were, when the King returned, the goblins immediately begun taking bets on what the stench reeked of most.
"Burnt chicken feathers!" shouted one goblin.
"Hoggle's socks!" Bellowed another from the other side of the room.
"Old scrambled eggs?" suggested a small goblin, twitching his long pointed nose.
Jareth squelched towards his throne, casually kicking a small, cackling goblin across the room as he did. "Quiet, imbeciles." he snapped "I'm in danger of having an aneurysm from the stress of trying to manage this kingdom"
He casually summoned a crystal to eradicate the disgusting Bog aroma, throwing the crystal high into the air so that it landed on his head mid-step through his wet stroll to the throne.
It did nothing.
Perplexed but not yet panicking, Jareth stood still, summoned another crystal and this time popped it deliberately against his chest. Yet, the eye watering odor remained.
The Goblin King turned a shade paler underneath the rancid muck and gulped hard as the enormity of the situation finally registered.
"Why aren't these blasted crystals working?" he thought, "Sarah's coming and I smell like..."
"...goblin cheese, yeah tha's it! Particularly tha thick, green crusty part!" Inane chatter from the Throne Room interrupted Jareth's thoughts.
"ENOUGH!" roared the king as he manifested a clock, stared at the time accusingly then wafted it into non-existence again. "I don't have time for this nonsense. Sarah is due to arrive in exactly 4 hours and 23 minutes and I smell like a toxic swamp! Make yourselves useful, you blithering fools, and clean this place up while I attempt to repair this travesty that I am been cruelly subjected to! I'm taking a shower!" With that Jareth stormed out of the Throne Room, a fragrance of foul delights following his path.
When Jareth materialised in his royal apartment within the castle, he strode with trepidation towards his full length mirror to take stock of his situation. A sound that Jareth would never admit to being a whimper, quietly escaped as he surveyed the disgusting bog creature reflected back at him.
His clothes were soaked, nothing more than brown rags at this point. The smell coming off of them so pungent it caused his nostrils to ache. His face was a mess of dull glitter and black sludge. Worst of all, his hair looked sad. The once bright wisps now hung in clumps, entangled in something dark and stringy he didn't want to contemplate. The rest was plastered to his face and neck, dripping cold drops down his spine and torso.
"Manure" Jareth's inner voice helpfully supplied, "That's what we smell like. The manure of a thousand constipated cows!"
Jareth pouted and created another crystal, desperation driving a third fruitless attempt to magic the mess away. It popped to no avail taking any remaining hopes of a swift resolution with it, his shoulders slumped.
"Into the shower with you, old boy. Let's hope gallons of scalding water can make this abominable stink disperse. Otherwise, I believe we may be doomed to bachelorhood for the rest of our days".
Back in Sarah's small apartment, she was frantically searching for something to wear. Still in utter disbelief that the Goblin King had really turned up again after so long and more than a little curious as to what he was up to, Sarah replayed the moment earlier that day to herself again.
She'd thought about it happening half a hundred times over the years but had long ago got out of the habit of fantasizing about him. Sure, Sarah had tried to move past her adolescent feelings towards Jareth by dating 'normal' guys and constantly reminding herself that he was the bad guy in her story who stole her baby brother and gave her an hallucinogenic peach. But drugs and kidnapping aside, there had been some moments, tantalizing moments where she still remembered her heart beating like a bird stuck in a small cage. Closing her eyes she still felt the heat of his body as he leaned over her in the tunnels. "How are you enjoying my labyrinth?". She shuddered back to the present. He had awakened feelings in Sarah she had never known about before, and sadly, had never quite seemed to replicate since.
She knew she was hopelessly attracted to him, it was hard not to be, but she didn't trust her feelings beyond that. He had a way of making her usual sensibilities turn to pudding.
With that in mind, she tried to find something that reflected her womanly figure but kept a certain amount to the imagination. Settling on a beautiful cream dress which sat slightly off the shoulder and tied at the back and sides with corseted laces leaving it to flow loosely around her knees, Sarah looked woefully at her nibbled nails. "Were going to need nail varnish and glitter, lots of glitter."
Jareth was pacing his king sized bathroom, a king sized towel wrapped low around his hips, trying to think of an idea he hadn't already tried. When the near boiling water and various concoctions of soaps and scents failed to do anything more than wash off the oily bog juice, the Goblin King had begun experimenting with cleaning products from both the Underground and the Aboveground. Littered around the stately looking bathroom counters were lotions, potions and open bottles of super-strength bleach promising to kill 99.9% of all known bacteria but apparently not the offensive bog stench which still hung in the air wherever he went. He had scrubbed, lathered, rinsed and repeated until his usually pale skin was started to look a little tormented.
A large clock was suspended in mid-air on one side of the room, counting down the time until Sarah's expected arrival. Jareth had spent over 2 hours with his failed attempts leaving him only 1 hour and 54 precious minutes left to figure this out. One thing he was sure of was that after years upon years of waiting for Sarah and then further waiting for her to mature out of her girlhood, he was not going to finally win her to his side smelling like a neglected pig pen.
Open books from his personal library sat propped on the edge of a large marble tub. Jareth checked a passage regarding Greek methods of cleaning surgical equipment then materialised a bathtub full of juniper berries. "Well, here goes" he announced to the room as he gracefully stepped into the deep tub of blueberry sized balls. Squirming around to find a good position, he belatedly remembered they were meant to be crushed, he snapped his fingers and all of the small, blue berries simultaneously crushed themselves causing the powerful astringent properties to begin to seep into the Goblin King's bare skin. Jareth pulled a face as the skin all over his body began to pucker and tingle, he tentatively sampled the air but still the pervasive odor remained.
"DAMNATION!" he bellowed as he stomped out of the tub, berries rolling all over the floor. "There has to be a solution to this, I bog things all the time!" He resumed pacing. "There must be a way of ridding oneself of this stink or no one would ever be allowed back inside the castle walls" he thought to himself. "I'd have bogged the entire population by now and therefore would have enjoyed relative peace and quiet years ago!"
An idea struck and Jareth dressed himself with a thought, "The Wiseman has been around a long time and often visited by the denizens of the Labyrinth." He glanced at his reflection as he passed the mirror. Whilst the black goop had now all been removed, it was as if the strength of the foul aroma was so potent it was causing his hair to wilt. Freshly cleaned but smelling rancid, the blond locks looked dull and flat, his skin was pallid and his whole presence seemed like a faded version of himself. Even his painted eyes had less sparkle.
Jareth ran a gloved hand over his face, miserable at his situation.
He walked to the window, swiftly transformed himself into a snowy white barn owl and took flight out of the window. High above the Labyrinth, wind buffeting his wings, he noticed that even in his owl form the smell still clung. His sharp owl senses were repulsed by it.
As he swooped down to land on a statue near The Wiseman, his obnoxious avian hat swiftly turned to look at him. "What happened to you? You smell like a startled skunk!" it stated without preamble.
Transforming back into his usual appearence, he leered down over the hat. "Watch your beak, bird, I'm in no mood for this. Wake your companion, I have urgent need of his advice".
"HA!" it exclaimed "His advice, what a waste!" The bird leaned down to peck The Wiseman sharply on the nose. "Wake up! The King needs you", "Umphh, huh?" came the reply as the old man unfurled himself from his hunched position, "What's this? King? Ah, yes. How may I be of assistance?"
"In case you failed to notice, I've been exposed to The Bog of Eternal Stench and I'm finding the stink rather difficult to remove." the King stated imperiously.
The Wiseman delicately sniffed the air, "Hmph, well, yes, 'Eternal' is not a word to be bandied around lightly, Sire". The Goblin King gave him a look that promised death.
"Hum, hum, let's see. Have you tried Goblin Ale?" The Wiseman suggested.
"I beg your pardon?" Jareth pulled an incredulous face.
"Hmm, yes, soak yourself in it, yes, yes, that was it", the old man muttered half to himself.
Jareth stared hard at the Wiseman. "You wish for me to saturate myself in - what my hopeless subjects lovingly refer to as - ale? Are you mad?"
"Most definitely!" Chirped up the bird faced hat. "Quiet, you!" The Wiseman chided.
The Goblin King rolled his eyes.
"You will find the ale to be, hmm, most potent, your Majesty. Most potent, hmm." With that, The Wiseman, drifted back off to sleep and began loudly snoring.
"Well, that's your lot!" Announced the hat, "Please leave a contrib..agghh!" With Jareth's gloved hand wrapped around his throat, the bird stopped talking.
Jareth cocked his head to the side as he regarded the hat's beady yellow eyes, "You tell me so little then expect recompense?"
When the bird simply opened its beak once or twice silently the Goblin King released the bird with a negligent shrug. "I don't know what I must have been thinking coming here!" Jareth lamented.
After a brief fit of coughing, the hat sniffled, "Didn't I say it was a waste of time, eh?" It laughed, "Goblin ale is strong though, if bathing in it doesn't work, you could always drink it. You probably won't be able to smell anything afterwards!" The bird hat chuckled to itself before a little box appeared from The Wiseman's folds, jingling lightly.
Exasperated, Jareth produced an elaborate gold pocket watch on a long chain out of thin air, he swiftly consulted the time before dropping it into the box which promptly retracted into the rags.
After a short flight back to the castle, Jareth immediately summoned a squad of goblins to retrieve as much of their strongest ale as they could carry from the cellars. He didn't hold much stock in The Wiseman's advice but he had little else to go on. With only 47 minutes left, the king was desperate. His only reassurance was that everyone who had ever visited the Goblin City quickly found out just how powerful Goblin Ale truly was. If anything was going to work, this was it.
An insistent tugging on his sleeve drew him from his musings. A slim goblin with a profoundly large nose who had been helping to carry in the barrels of ale was trying to get his attention. "What is it?" the Goblin King asked. As the goblin held his obtrusive nostrils closed by pinching them between his finger and thumb, he squeaked "For you, King!, he proudly held out a large, menacing object to the king. It was blatantly a crude attempt at a home made bath brush, it had the long wooden handle so he would be able to wash his back, some bristles that looked suspiciously like boar but where it really differed was the loops of razor wire and chicken feathers. "For cleaning!" announced the goblin, "It's the one we all use to get the bad smell off!"
Disgusted, Jareth muttered his thanks before throwing the offending item out of the nearest tower window.
After filling the large tub with the strong smelling ale, Jareth once again submerged himself.
A feeling of despondency began to take hold of the king when he realised that this, too, wasn't working. Whilst the ale didn't seem to alleviate the strong, bog odor that seeped from his every pore, it did begin to make the mercurial monarch feel a little bit woozy after sitting in it a while. "What's the point in trying anymore, why would anyone want to live with hair like this!" he cried to the ceiling, "Sarah's going to take one look at me and run right back home again!" he sulked further into his bathwater. "Perhaps I should just drown my sorrows in ale. It can't be any worse than that revolting back scrubber" He mused. The appealing warm, yeasty smell of the ale combined with the frustrating day he had had drove the Goblin King to the monumentally irrational decision of sampling a cup of the potent ale. Which led to another, which led, somewhat inevitably, to the Goblin King wearing only a low slung bath towel, draped languorously over his throne, singing.
His audience of goblins were swaying from side to side, cups and flagons held high as they joined in sloppily with the chorus of the Goblin King's new 'Sarah Song', as they called it. A large, oversized grandfather clock sat to the right of the Goblin King's arced throne, it was showing only ten minutes left until Sarah's expected 8 pm arrival.
Finishing with a drunkenly dramatic and wobbly flourish, Jareth quaffed down more of the thick, black ale.
"She'll never love me now, chaps, this is it for us. Your noxious monarch and his ugly little subjects! We'll drink like this every night." Some of the goblins cheered, most turned a little green, having already drunk themselves into oblivion earlier that day at the Bog party. One goblin grabbed his neighbors helmet and vomited heavily into it. "Sorry!" he said as he handed it back to it's owner, who simply stared cross-eyed at it's contents and hiccuped.
"I did everything for her, you know," confessed Jareth, "She asked that the child be taken, I took him!" he declared loud and indignantly, "She cowered before me, and I was frightening" he laughed menacingly, "I reordered time, I turned the..." Jareth froze where he was sat, "Wait now, THAT'S IT!"
Jareth jumped up from his throne, a little too quickly as he had to find his balance again before he could continue. Holding tightly onto the fluffy towel around his waist Jareth announced to the room "I'll reorder time to before, when, any of this... oh sod it. I'm going to fix it!" Drunk as a skunk and smelling reminiscent of one too, Jareth disappeared with only his bath towel and a goblet of strong ale.
A/N: Sorry the wait was SO long. Blame the lifespan of the common cold and unreliable nurseries! Hopefully the length of this chapter somewhat makes up for it!
Thanks for all the reviews! I will try to reply to these this weekend now that the whopper of Chapter 4 is behind me!
