AN: I own nothing. And, look!, this is longer! Though I can't promise much as far as the humor goes...it's never good to force these things.

AN2: Thanks to all my lovely reviewers, the little hints/insights really do help to tweak the plot!

"Oh no. Crap, crap, crap. Quickly, Hoggle, get a wet towel from the bathroom. Don't dawdle!" Charlie was already in motion as he saw Jareth moving quickly horizontal, directly Hoggle as he rushed toward the fallen King.

"If he isn't dead, he's going to hate us for this. Again. What is it with this man and his head? You'd think he'd start to wear a helmet on an every day basis just to get through a week! Stupid laws of gravity." As Charlie knelt and began to check for breathing (yep, check), check for bleeding (nope, check), and check for signs of internal trauma (uh, he wasn't really trained in medical emergencies, Jareth would just have to be happy that he knew to check for breathing), he muttered to keep himself from panicking.

Panicking wasn't out of the question, considering what had happened the last time the King had been cracked in the skull. He managed to forget some ... important ... things.

"Here is what I found. I don't know how they get dry up here, if this is what they got." Hoggle handed Charlie a sodden toilet tissue roll, thankfully unused (though he wasn't going to ask how it managed to get wet so thoroughly in such a short amount of time).

"Thanks, Hoggle. He's still breathing, so maybe he'll be ok?" Charlie passed the wet material over Jareth's wrists and neck, hoping to revive him before the situation could become dire.

"I told you, you should have never brought 'im to this wedding. Things could only get bad, 'specially with the Girl bein' here." Hoggle took a place on the other side of Jareth, kneeling at his side, but not touching him (quite for obvious reasons). If he could have gotten home at this point he would have. To pack. Then to find a nice oubliette to hide in for the rest of his miserable life.

Stupid rips in the fabric of time, constantly repairing themselves and making travelers wait for another rip to appear.

"Blame this on Bobby. He was thinking that Jareth would remember once he saw her and they'd live happily ever after. Silly romantic." Charlie was still dabbing the tissue on Jareth, now wiping his pale face.

"Hoggle, I need you to stay with the King. I have to go send the Girl away, just in case... Say nothing about what happened last time, if he wakes, just make sure that he's comfortable and can send himself back to the Labyrinth. I'll be back soon." He unfolded his frame from the floor and hurried out, just now realizing how very exposed their group had been inside the church. He could only hope that no one walked in on the remaining two.


Hoggle crouched, not saying anything, holding his breath in hopes of not disturbing his King, for a full minute before he could take it no longer. He poked Jareth in the cheek (much like babies do when they're trying to be affectionate and get attention) with a stubby finger. Unfortunately, he left a bit of a dirt smudge. And the King's eyes flew open.

"Why, pray tell, am I lying on the floor?" Jareth's voice wasn't as strong as it had been just five minutes prior, but he was still angry.

"There was an accident, yer Majesty." That was all Hoggle could get out before the prostrate fae became vertical.

"Where are the others? The traitors that helped the Girl? I do believe that I called all three of you for sentencing." Some of the acerbic bite in Jareth's tone was lost as he gingerly touched the back of his head, coming away blood free, thankfully. Fae are quick healers, of course, but even for a King a five minute recovery time may be asking a bit much.

"The ... others, sir?" Hoggle knew. He just knew that the King was back, his temporary amnesia gone and all good humor that had sprung up over the past decade was lost in an instant.

"Don't play games with me, dwarf. My castle is in pieces, the goblins can barely push two stones back into place without dropping one of them ... " He trailed off, his eyes widening in realization. This wasn't his castle, there were no broken stones littering the floor, and there was a sodden roll of Aboveground toilet tissue dampening the carpet near where he had been lying. The tissue was dismissed as a flashback seized his sorely softened brain.


Didymus, Hoggle, and Ludo stood before their King, their hands (or paws, in some instances) were bound in front of them and each knelt before the throne where their King lounged. Hoggle was glaring sullenly at the floor, Didymus attempting to meet the gaze of the Goblin King from under his bushy eyebrows and Ludo was staring straight up the castle turret, a befuddled look in his eyes. Far above their heads, goblins were repairing the damage from the Girl's running of the Labyrinth.

Jareth's eyes were half closed as he watched Sarah share a meal with her family in one of his crystals. He had allowed her her one night of celebration with his subjects so she would realize that he could be fair and maybe she would change her mind. But of course, this was of no consequence, even though he was fated to fall in love with her, her selfish and cruel free will got in the way every time.

As she laughed at the antics of her little brother, who was covered in red goo, he burst the crystal, enraged at the unfairness of the situation. He should be the one sharing meals with her, making her laugh. His heart was tied to a mere slip of a girl, a girl who could have been queen, and she had the right to deny him!

"You three will pay for your interference with this runner." His voice was low and gave the impression of extreme anger, even though he was irritated at their involvment, he knew it couldn't be helped -- they were fated to be loyal to their future queen, just as he was fated to love her. He dramatically paused, mentally rifling through his file of odious punishments. Perhaps for these three, they could do something that suited their talents and would, ultimately, benefit himself. He stood and walked down the few steps to where they knelt.

"Because you like to interfere, I will send you -- " The weight of the impending threat was lost, as Jareth's voice was cut off.

Goblins, never the best or most coordinated masons, thought throwing heavy rocks at each other (especially at beasts such as Ludo, who threw them back) was a great and amusing past time while they worked to repair the castle. Goblins also lack a great deal of intelligence and foresight in most situations. While thinking Ludo would be receptive to a little game of 'stone catch', they didn't realize that they had not even the slightest hope of accuracy in their stone-dropping. Or that the King liked to pace.

The King landed on his backside, his polished shoes slipping on spilled ale, his head cracking on the uncarpeted stone floor.

"Quickly, Hoggle, fetch a towel." The little fox immediately wriggled out of his bindings (of course he would not have removed them a moment earlier, it would not have been chivalrous to expose another's poor skill at knot tying) and untied his compatriots before hurrying to the King's side. Hoggle scampered off to parts unknown, only to return quickly with a soaked and dripping pea green cloth.

"I say, this cloth smells like ale and chicken sweat! Wherever did you find it?" Didymus decided that it would be inappropriate to call Ambrosius in to affectionately clean the King's face, so he swabbed the foul smelling cloth at the King's temples and wrists.

"Never you mind, just get the King to wake up!" The goblins above had stopped their work and had disappeared, fearing the wrath of the King when he woke. If he woke.

Ludo sat down unceremoniously were he stood, staring at the two smaller people in disbelief. "King sleep? Not send Ludo away?"

"Why, brother Ludo, the King would never send us away! The worst he would do would be to make us scrub the markings the Girl put on the flagstones in the slate maze. I heard that they have to prepare a special mixture of ale and special brushes to remove those marks. The Brownies were most unhappy with her ingenuity!" The knight took a deep breath, ready to regale all listeners of stories of the Girl's ingenuity, and was distracted from his intention by a weak moan from the King.

Jareth slowly opened his eyes, taking a deep cleansing breath. Then he realized he was laying on his not-too-clean floor, surrounded by three of his favorite subjects. Well, that might be stretching it. They weren't his least favorite, if he were to classify favorites. Which he didn't. He did try to be fair, of course.

"Tell me, why are you three here? Don't you have jobs to do? And why does my roof have holes in it? What have those blasted goblins been up to this time?!" Jareth carefully sat up, his head now only a little sore.

His subjects stared at him incredulously, unsure of what to say in response to his apparently forgetfulness. Didymus cleared his throat and stepped forward, preventing his companions from saying anything.

"Well, your Majesty, there was a terrible storm last night. You were going to toast it with some of the Goblin ale, perhaps that hath affected thy humor?" Didymus made the comment in the form of a question, feeling his way around the extent of the King's amnesia.

"Oh. Well. I suppose you three should get back to where you once came from; I will be calling on you in the near future. I think I had something I wanted you to do, but I can't remember now." Jareth walked carefully to his throne, as if one hungover. All these side effects, but not even an impression of a good time. He would have to seek out better company for his drunken adventures.