Sarah may have to deal with Meg, but Jareth has to deal with an irritatingly insightful dwarf-goblin. It's simply too much...

This chapter makes me giggle. It is pointless and silly, but it makes me giggle. And that is what is important in life.

I do not own the Labyrinth. I do own a stapler. It is small and green and thinking about it inexplicably brings about a desire for pickles.

I'm having a crappy day, so tell me how much you love me.

Chapter Ten

Jareth sat quite still on his throne, face contorted in a manner that gave him the appearance of being deep in thought. In truth, he was caught between delirious preening and neurotic worry, and was now stuck in a state of ego-induced confusion.

The dinner had seemed to go quite well, all things considered. Sarah had been exceedingly beautiful, as per usual. Beautiful enough to completely eclipse all memories he had of her, distorted by time as they were. He had, if he said so himself, been quite charming and debonair. He had even thoroughly enjoyed the bickering, and Jareth had the feeling she had as well. Her questions had been a little uncomfortable, but if everything went according to plan, she would soon have all her answers.

If everything went according to plan.

That was just it, wasn't it? Jareth was relying entirely on a plan formulated by a goblin, which was, in all reality, a last-ditch attempt to make up for the failings of his own brilliant schemes (not at all his fault, of course; he blamed it all on Hogwart). If this didn't work, there was nothing left for him to try.

Hig shuffled past, patting Jareth comfortingly on his leather-clad knee. "Don't worry, Majesty. It'll work, I'm sure of it."

The Royal Advisor had taken to wearing a purple tea cosy hung about with cheap gold earrings as the sign of his station. Every time he ran, jumped or nodded, the large pom-pom on top wobbled dangerously, threatening to send the whole confection careening to the floor. To prevent this from happening, the other goblins had helpfully stapled the tea cosy to Hig's head. The pom-pom still wobbled with every movement, but now the Official Headdress of the Royal Advisor stayed firmly in place, as did several other items in the throne room, including two strings of sausages, four goblins, and seven chickens (Jareth had been forced to issue an emergency decree banning all visits to Aboveground office supply stores).

"Forgive me if I don't quite share your eternal optimism." Jareth sighed, arranging his features into an appropriately arrogant smirk as he gazed down at his Royal Advisor.

"Opti what, Majesty?" Hig asked pleasantly.

Jareth shook his head. "Never mind… The point is, what am I supposed to do if this plan of yours doesn't work?"

"Bog me?" Hig offered.

Jareth considered. "Yes, I suppose that does seem like the logical decision. Although, it doesn't really help, does it?"

"Did it ever help?" The dwarf-goblin replied wisely. "Or was it just to make you feel better about yourself?"

"Hig, this conversation is veering dangerously close to psycho-analysis, and I do not like that. In fact, if it continues, I shall have to Bog you for insubordination." He placed his hands on his hips, raising a delicately angry eyebrow.

"Insub what, Majesty?"

"Never mind. The point is-"

"You'll Bog me?"

"Precisely. As will happen if you interrupt me again."

"Sorry, Majesty."

"In fact, I am in the mood for a Bogging." Jareth addressed the entire throne room. "The next one of you to do anything in the least bit annoying shall be suspended head-first in the Bog of Eternal Stench."

The Goblins cheered (it had, after all, been a terribly long time since anyone was bogged), then began running over each other in a desperate bid to not be annoying. It the ensuing scuffle, chickens were kicked, noses were trodden on, goblins were kicked, chickens were trodden on, and Hig almost lost his hat (a few staples were pulled loose, but in the end it was quite secure).

"Right." Jareth said, hands on hips and a devilish grin on his face. "That's all of you then."

There was a cheer, then all the life forms in the throne room –other than Jareth and Hig- disappeared with a loud squelch.

"I do feel much better now." Jareth noted with a pleased smirk. "Remind me to do that more often."

"Yes, Majesty."

"Right, then. What was I doing?" Jareth tapped his chin. "Ah, yes. Sarah."

He strode to the window, looking out at the clock tower that rose out of the shuffling mess of the Goblin City. It had three faces, each with its' own individual design. One was modelled on the elegant piece Jareth displayed to his runners, and the other two relied on the whims of the goblins. At the present moment, one had a straggled blonde wig on the end of one arm and appeared to be modelled on Jareth himself, while the other was clearly and inexplicably a Mickey Mouse.

"Hig." Jareth's voice was dangerously low.

"Yes, Highness?" Hig replied, a note of caution detectable in his voice.

"Why are the clocks telling me I have half an hour left before I am to meet Sarah?" His tone was velvet soft, dripping with an anger that threatened to burst through at any moment.

"Ah..." Hig began to shuffle very slowly backwards. "Probably because you do, Sire."

"Why was I not informed of this hours ago?"

"Ah, well, you weren't really... you were frozen, and... ah..." He began surreptitiously looking for an exit.

"You do realise what this means, don't you?" Jareth purred, darting out a hand to grab Hig by the scruff of his neck.

"Not the Bog, Highness!" Hig squealed, squirming and kicking.

"In light of the assistance you have given me, I am not going to Bog you." Hig breathed a sigh of relief, but Jareth held up a hand to silence him. "I am, however, going to Bog your hat."

Hig's eyes went wide and his lip began to tremble. "No, Highness, not the hat! Anything but that!"

"Oh yes, the hat!" Jareth cried, waving a hand. With a loud pop, the staples pulled free of Hig's head and the purple monstrosity disappeared.

Jareth dropped the dwarf-goblin to the floor, where he sat on his backside and began very quietly sobbing. Then Jareth strode to the centre of the room and waved a hand over himself, changing immediately to his human guise. Then without another word he disappeared, leaving behind a cloud of glitter and the smell of ozone.