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On with the story!


The Goblin King stared coldly at the pathetic figure lying prostrate at his feet.

"What have you to say for yourself?"

The person shuddered and said nothing.

In the background, numerous goblins cavorted wildly – some were chasing the chickens in dizzying circles until their short, stubby legs grew tired from their worthless pursuit; while more than a few were inebriated from drinking Bog Water, bursting into laughter or squeaking a ditty now and then. The Bog Water had quickly been a popular drink amongst them, after he had made the mistake of dumping the most alcohol-crazed goblin headfirst in the bog. The foolish creature, who he now remembered as Booze, broke the surface of the Bog of the Eternal Stench with an ecstatic expression on his face, and began lapping up at the foul-smelling water greedily, as if he tasted ambrosia on his tongue. Booze had refused to come out of the bog since then. Jareth had heard rumors that his alcoholic subject had turned into a new specie of Swamp Monster.

Which put him in quite a fix: if the goblins would jump at the chance to join their brother Booze, what could the Goblin King, infamous for his ruthlessness. dole out as punishment?

He tapped his riding crop on his thigh absentmindedly, cowering human in front of him forgotten. He couldn't threaten them with the oubliette when they misbehaved – his minions were too dimwitted to be afraid of the dark. Depriving them of Bog Water was inconceivable for that required him to touch those infernal drinks. Never in a million years would he sully his person with such a malodorous substance.

"Have mercy, milord. I was caught in the heat of the moment. Please give me my son back."

He narrowed his eyes, annoyed at the interruption to the train of his thoughts. Caught in the 'heat of the moment,' was she? With a few whispered words of seduction, he had her eating out of the palm of his hand and she had completely forgotten the babe.

Nondescript brown eyes stared out pitifully from an unremarkable face. He knew her type – she was the kind of woman who would chase at any handsome man who made the misfortune of passing her way. Nothing could make him 'indulge in her charms,' however little she might have.

She was unfit to be a parent. And he was doing everyone a favor by taking the child away from her negligent care.

His gaze flickered to the lad watching his surroundings blankly. The boy shared his mother's ordinary characteristics – although, coupled with his undernourished air, those features lent him a rather feminine appearance. In his baggy clothes, he looked as thin as a stick.

What would Sarah think of a new playmate?

His lips quirked bemusedly. How could she invade his thoughts even in the most unexpected moments? The little girl was everywhere in his castle, and now, in his mind as well. Her friendship would do wonders for the scrawny urchin.

The lady apparently believed that the smile was meant for her, because the fine tension on her shoulders relaxed and started to rise.

He scowled and she continued to grovel, sinking lower than her original position.

"Our agreement was that in order to regain your son, you have to run and defeat my labyrinth," Saying whatever her name was on this part could make the threat in his tone more formidable, but he had forgotten her blasted name as soon as she had said it. "And you clearly did not fulfill your term of the bargain."

"But-but you tricked me in your stupid game! You started it!"

"I was not aware that we were playing any games, madam," he smiled sardonically, and took delight at seeing her discomfort grow. "And I had not commenced the initial contact between us. You were the one who wished him away, did you not?"

She sputtered indignantly. "How could I know that the stupid book was telling the truth? You aren't supposed to exist!"

"I assure you that I am of flesh and blood also, and thus, am existing." He whipped the crop in the air and she winced in synchronism. "Nevertheless, the deed is done."

"I'm taking this to court! You couldn't take my child away from me without a fight, Goblin King!"

He laughed sarcastically. "That, madam, was the most amusing announcement I had ever heard." Jareth leaned forward, daring her to meet his eyes. She didn't, and continued to stare at his immaculately polished Hessian boots. "Do you really think that anyone would believe that your child was 'spirited away' by the Goblin King, who in your words, isn't supposed to exist? You would be the laughingstock of the town!"

She might have realized the folly of her declaration for she hung her head in defeat. He tutted at how quickly she had given in. She had not even managed to step in the labyrinth, as he recalled.

"Are ye goin' te' turn him te' a goblin boss?" one of his subjects slurred, heady with Bog Water in the guise of 'fine wine.'

"Goblin! Goblin!" the rest chorused in reply.

The woman's face drained of any color.

"Because I am feeling rather lenient today, I offer you one last chance at redeeming the babe," he said, and the goblins groaned. He had not commanded them to be silent for the appropiate punishment had not come to mind. Ordering them to play with Sarah, perhaps? She was such an energetic moppet, and she would surely wear them out. But they were too dirty and disgusting and imbecilic that he couldn't allow them near her.

"Ask the child if he would be willing to return with you. If he replies negatively, he would be one of these goblins forever."

All the occupants of the Second, Smaller, and Messier Throne Room (as it was called by his servants) swerved toward the child in question.

"Sweetie, do you want to go home with mama?" she asked, casting him a hopeful glance.

The boy looked at Jareth, then turned to her. During his thirteen-hour stay here, he had been pampered, clothed, and fed by the mothering Rosalie, who attended him in extremities. 'Coddled to bits,' as Sarah might have put it. By bewildered look on his face, he wasn't used to such lavish treatment at home. Apparently choosing the lesser of two evils, he shook his head.

Jareth smiled in satisfaction.

"Take her away."

The lad had done nothing when his mother disappeared with an anguished cry, and when the goblins let out raucous cheers and danced around him maladroitly, he merely shuffled his feet in discomfort. As for the foolish wench, she would wake to find the memory of her son and her labyrinth misadventure merely as fragments of a long-forgotten dream. Or nightmare. And for the rest of her life, she will continue to lament the loss of the son she couldn't remember.

She won't ever make the mistake of wishing her children away again. And Sarah would be immensely pleased at the addition to her friends.

A queasy feeling jerked him out of his smug and rejoicing thoughts. He tensed in reaction.

Someone was watching him.

Not the goblins, and certainly not the unresponsive boy, who was now staring at the cracks in the walls as if he found them extremely interesting. He straightened up on his regal chair and looked around.

The usually-locked door to the Second, Smaller, and Messier Throne Room stood ajar.


Who could possibly be eavesdropping on the Goblin King? This is not good. Find out on the next chapter!

I know it's really short, but my muse is holding the next chapter hostage! The only ransom she could be bribed on are your precious reviews. Please review!

Don't forget to check out Dimensional Dallying before you go!