The Great Goblin Revolt
Chapter 8
The rain came hammering down, drenching the festive bunting and extinguishing the barbeque in a matter of seconds. Irene screeched at her family and friends fleeing from the storm to each grab a platter. As they all ran for cover, Jareth snagged Sarah by the hand and pulled her in the opposite direction. None of the others noticed; their main priority was taking shelter.
"Hey, let me go, right now," she demanded, trying unsuccessfully to wrench herself free.
The Goblin King wore an expression of grim determination as he dragged her towards a shimmering circular portal which appeared in the middle of the lawn.
"You have no power over me," Sarah shrieked in desperation as she was yanked through the invisible doorway.
Materialising on the other side, she was amazed to find she was completely dry. Her hair and thin sundress were as if she'd never been soaked to the skin. Jareth also appeared untouched by the wet weather. Although, he had shed his mortal disguise and was back in full Goblin King Regalia, with added armour.
"You can't just steal me away," Sarah protested, realising they were standing on the hillside which overlooked the Labyrinth; the same place where he'd given thirteen hours to win her brother back.
Jareth released her hand and glared at her with a dangerous fury in his eyes.
"You would marry him?" He snarled, his words dripping with disdain, "A man who refers to you as snookums."
"You call me precious," she countered, glowering back at him.
"Why?" Jareth questioned, his tone turning to anguish. "I offered you everything it is in my power to give; my heart, my love, my life."
Sarah clenched her eyes shut, unable to bear his pain on top of her own. Ever since he knocked on her apartment door (was it really less than five days ago?) she had been going against her better judgement. It churned her stomach to think of how she was using Richard to set things right, but the deed was done. Her intentions were honourable, even if her actions weren't. All she could do was hope for understanding and forgiveness.
"You have to take me home," she softly pleaded. "I'll be missed."
"Answer my question," he snapped, impatiently.
"I already told you we couldn't be together, but you wouldn't listen." Sarah refused to be cowed, despite the heavy burden of guilt she felt. "You don't belong in my world, and I, I don't belong in yours," she said gesturing around her at the strange landscape. "I wasn't expecting Richard's proposal, and the timing could have been better, but what's said is said, right? You don't have to like my choice or understand it; you just have to accept it."
All she wanted to do was go home to her apartment, hide under her duvet, and try to pretend the last few days never happened. It would hurt like hell to be separated from Jareth forever, but being so near and yet so far, was worse.
"Do I have to run the Labyrinth again to get out of here?" She questioned with frustration.
The Goblin King circled around her as if he were in owl form, and about to pounce on his prey.
"I know you don't love poor Dicky," Jareth sneered, "I'm not certain I could have been so generous towards him if you did," he said with a hint of malevolence. "After what we shared together last night, why would you marry someone you don't love?"
Sarah recalled something her mother once told her. The often absent Linda, who was on her fourth marriage, was quite philosophical about the subject of matrimony. "Only marry a man you like but don't love. For the simple reason, it's easier to live with the hope you might fall in love than with the dread you will suffer the agony of falling out of it."
"Richard is a good man and you don't know him like I do," she argued, recalling all the sweet things he'd ever done for her. "He's not perfect, and if we're gonna last past the wedding ceremony, he'll have to come up with a new pet name for me, but I could do a lot worse."
Jareth's expression hardened. "You consider me a worse option than Dicky dum-dums?" He fumed.
Sarah sighed with exasperation. "At least with him, there's a chance I won't be left a widow before the ink is dry on the marriage certificate," she jibed. A flash of hurt in his eyes caused her to soften her tone. "I know tomorrow is never promised for anyone, but you know my world will kill you sooner rather than later. I didn't want us to part on bad terms, but if it's the only way, then so be it. Return me to my family and my fiancé, and let's stop torturing each other over something we can never have together."
The Goblin King bowed his head, seemingly defeated.
"This place is part of the veil between our worlds, you can turn back anytime you want to," he explained in a low voice, "Just as you could have done when you wished Toby to me."
"Oh," she observed in a dull tone, not attempting to move.
The orange sky above was streaked with purple which added to the Labyrinth's shadowy menace. From the outside, it didn't appear any different to the first time she'd laid eyes on it. An unexpected yearning tugged at her heart as she surveyed the landscape, making her not want to leave.
Jareth gave her a cruel smile. "Lady Callida is quite beautiful, you know." It was in his nature to twist the knife, even if, deep down, he knew she didn't deserve it. "I dare say it won't be too much of a chore to fulfil my duties as her husband," he professed with a virile swagger.
Sarah bit her tongue, determined to be magnanimous, and desperate not to let him see her cry.
"If there was any other way..." She tailed off, pressing her lips together as she turned away.
He refused to see it was for his own good and that it was tearing her apart inside.
Sarah took a deep breath, feeling she was about to shatter into a million pieces.
"It's time for me to go," she said, barely holding herself together.
The shimmering portal was visible a few steps ahead of her.
"Yes, go on; go back to your humdrum life and your imperfect fiancé." Jareth jeered.
Taking a deep breath, Sarah hesitantly reached out to touch the veil between worlds.
"I wish you nothing but happiness," she said, her words cracking with emotion.
Launching herself through the portal, she felt wet grass beneath her feet.
Her name was on his lips and he half reached out to stop her, but it was too late. The Goblin King felt the pull of the Labyrinth, calling him home.
Sarah sank to her knees on the muddy lawn and wept. The rain had stopped and the grey storm clouds were lifting to reveal the sun. Richard rushed out and grabbed her by the arm.
"What the hell are you doing?" He hoisted her up. "Are you alright?" There was a look of concern in his eyes as he checked for signs of injury or illness.
She opened her mouth as if to speak, but no words came out.
"Never mind," he said, pulling her towards the house, "Katy's waters have broken and it's all hands on deck."
After the ambulance arrived and the Peters' family departed for the hospital, Irene tried valiantly to resurrect the party. Sarah's emotional outburst on the lawn was put down to her being overcome with happiness about her engagement, and she couldn't bring herself to contradict the assumption. Jerry's sudden disappearance was also soon forgotten after Joe's wife unexpectedly went into labour. In fact, it was as if he was never there at all. Robert was ordered by his wife to fetch the Champagne so they could toast the newly engaged couple. Sarah ceased poking unenthusiastically at her plate of chicken salad and called out to stop him from popping the cork. With Jareth back where he belonged, there was no reason to persist with the charade. The day had turned into a proper damp squib and she was about to make it worse. All eyes were on her as she got up and walked over to her fiancé. Grabbing him by the hand, she led him to the door so they could go outside for some privacy.
"I'm so sorry, Richard," she began, "but we really do need to talk."
Jareth materialised on the balcony of his castle overlooking the Goblin City. The chaos and destruction below seemed to be a physical manifestation of his inner turmoil. Somewhere, deep inside, he knew Sarah was right. To allow his magic to drain away until he was left weak and defenceless was unthinkable. He had convinced himself he could do it, for her. However, could he really die for love? It was a romantic notion, to imagine himself as a tragic Heathcliff or a lovelorn Romeo. Unfortunately, their lovers, Cathy and Juliette, met sorry ends too. He didn't want that for Sarah. Even so, it took every shred of self-restraint he possessed not to go running after her and drag her back with him, kicking and screaming if necessary. At the very least, he could reorder time to get her out of the unwise engagement she must surely be rueing. But his generosity had deserted him. If he was suffering, he thought it only fair she should suffer a little too; except, the idea of her hurting made him feel worse. Jareth decided he required goblin ale and lots of it. But first, he needed to set his battered kingdom to rights.
"Only a fool would ever fall in love," the Goblin King snarled, angry with himself for succumbing to such insanity.
Conjuring up half a dozen crystal balls, he manipulated them with a confidence that stemmed from years of experience. After the fixing and the drinking, he would deal with his parents' demands.
"I ORDER YOU TO STOP."
Jareth used his powers to make his voice boom out across the land. Every creature capable of understanding came to a sudden halt; frozen in their tracks by his sheer vocal force.
"I DECLARE THE GREAT GOBLIN REVOLUTION OVER. I AM YOUR KING AND I COMMAND YOU."
Crushing the rebellion was never going to pose a problem for him. His embellishment of the facts was for Sarah's benefit. It was his plan to have her witness him dramatically regain mastery over his domain, and thereafter make her his queen. Now, everything was in tatters. He released the crystal balls he was juggling, sending them whooshing through the air. The glass orbs glowed and sparkled as they swirled around, clinking together before exploding into rainbows of glitter. In no time at all, the damage done by his rampaging subjects was set to rights. The goblins watched awestruck and were soon willing to once again pledge their loyalty to him.
"THE FINEST WINES AND ALES IN THE ENTIRE KINGDOM AWAIT YOU. COME, AND LET US DRINK TO PEACE."
With a brief incantation, the enchantment protecting the castle was broken. The great wooden doors groaned as they swung open. Almost trampling each other in the rush, goblins, chickens, and all manner of beasts scrambled to take up the invitation. None needed to be asked twice when the vast supplies of the king's wine and ale cellar were on offer. Before long, the drink was flowing freely and the monarch and his subjects quickly reached detente over a flagon or two of Whangdoodle's Special Reserve. It was a particularly potent brew of traditional ale mixed with fermented magic beans, which had first been passed through the digestive system of a Bostaurus (Bostauruses being bovine creatures rather like Highland Cattle in appearance, except slightly bigger in size, and purple).
Hoggle gingerly entered the throne room, accompanied by Ludo and Sir Didymus. Raucous drunken singing assaulted their ears as the goblins slurred their way through numerous obscene ditties. Feathers and all manner of unmentionables were flying through the air. Their king was sprawled in a very un-regal fashion over the horned back of his royal seat. He was seemingly oblivious to all around him, including the ode to his *thing* which his subjects were serenading him with.
Oh, the king's got a thing the size of a snake,
And when he doth sing, his thing, it doth shake,
He's proud of his thing as everyone knows,
And wears tight breeches to make sure his thing shows,
All hail the king and his glorious thing,
Three cheers, hip hooray, for the royal ding-a-ling...
Carefully making their way through the merry rabble, the odd trio advanced towards the throne.
"I fear our noble liege is in no fit state to receive us," the diminutive knight fretted.
"King - - drunk," Ludo lamented.
The little dwarf shook his head with exasperation.
"The rat's rat-arsed and the owl is well and truly boiled," he groaned.
"It does appear we shall have to return on the morrow," Sir Didymus turned tail ready to retreat.
Hoggle growled in frustration. "I'm heres for Sarah, not him."
His two companions nodded in allegiance to their absent friend.
"If it were up to me, I'd leaves him to stew in his own juice." The little dwarf threw the king a contemptuous glance.
Sir Didymus tilted his head in contemplation, "Tis our duty to inform His Majesty of what we've learned," he declared. "Lest you forget, our fair maiden doth love him."
"Aye, well, nobody's perfect," Hoggle grumbled. "I just hopes the Wise Man's words mean what we thinks they do, 'cause he don't half talk some flapdoodle at times."
The Goblin King stirred on his throne; one of his booted legs slipped from the horned armrest and hit the ground with a clunk.
"Ish that you, Hoggle?" He slurred.
The dwarf rolled his eyes; the only time Jareth got his name right was when he was drunk.
Brandishing his crystal ball topped crop, the king unsteadily rose to his feet, teetering on his high heels.
"You mabberblouth," he said, mixing up his letters and unsuccessfully attempting to jab his diminutive drudge in the chest. "You had to go running to Sarah, didn't you?"
Hoggle ducked from side to side, easily parrying Jareth's clumsy attacks.
"Ah," he shrieked, ducking another swipe. "I've comes here to help you and Sarah." The dwarf protested.
Cupping his hand, the Goblin King made a gesture like he was all ears. Unfortunately, the act of bending forward to listen caused him to overbalance. Crashing to the grimy floor in a drunken stupor, his fall was broken by a gaggle of his hapless subjects. Thankfully, their inebriated state anaesthetised them against feeling any pain. Goblins were hardy creatures and damn near indestructible at the best of times. Besides, Jareth was pretty skinny, and probably only weighed around one hundred and thirty pounds wet through.
"Mmmphhh, Bog - - Stench," he muttered before passing out.
"He ain't no good to nobody in that state," Hoggle harrumphed. "We'll haves to let him sleep it off."
Directing Ludo to scoop the unconscious king up, the dwarf led him through the maze of staircases and corridors to the royal bedchamber. Sir Didymus followed behind, yapping all the while. It was decided he should stand guard at the door if only to give his friends a moment's peace. The rock caller lumbered over to the bed and unceremoniously deposited Jareth onto it. But nothing could rouse the intoxicated monarch from his slumber.
"Go and gets some rest, I'll watch over his majesty," Hoggle instructed as he ushered his hairy comrade out of the room.
Being accustomed to worse arrangements, Ludo and Sir Didymus made themselves comfortable on the stone floor.
The little dwarf pulled a chair over to the ornate mirror that hung above the fireplace. It was sure to be a portal, as most of the castle mirrors were. Climbing atop the chair and closing his eyes, he pictured Sarah. When he opened them again, he saw an image of her curled up in her bed. It looked like she had been crying, and his heart ached to see her in such distress. She was clutching a white and gold-tipped feather in her hand. Brushing it across her lips, she placed it beneath her pillow. He was about to call out to her when he saw her close her eyes. It was best she got some sleep, he reasoned. It wasn't as if he could tell her what the Wise Man said, not until it was confirmed. Once Jareth sobered up, they could see if there really was a way to make her Goblin Queen.
Firstly, many thanks to everyone who took the time to leave a review on the previous chapter. You are all very kind and I really appreciate your enthusiasm for this story.
Regarding the criticism, of the way I've written the character of Richard - My inspiration for him was Walter, the fiancé of Meg Ryan's character, Annie Reed, in Sleepless In Seattle. He's supposed to be slightly irritating but well-intentioned and good-hearted. It is a failing of my writing (and my use of the well-worn cliché of making Sarah's other suitors less appealing than Jareth) if Richard isn't coming across the way I intended him to.
Bos Taurus is the scientific name for cattle, so I just made it one word. Also, I was thinking of the nonsense poem by Gelett Burgess about purple cows...
I never saw a Purple Cow,
I never hope to see one;
But I can tell you, anyhow,
I'd rather see than be one.
Regarding Whangdoodle's Special Reserve - I got the idea from an actual Japanese ale. Dubbed "Un, Kono Kuro" (a play on the Japanese word "unko" meaning "crap") It was made using coffee beans that had first passed through an elephant.
Whangdoodle - Meaning an imaginary creature or unnamed thing.
Life isn't allowing me much writing time right now. Also, I've foolishly got three stories on the go, (one I hope to have ready for Halloween). I apologise if updates are slow, but I never start a story I don't intend to finish. Thanks again - Mrs. P.
