Jareth exited the castle in fading twilight, pulling the hood of his cloak over his face. Not that he was any less conspicuous, being considerably taller than the average goblin, but he preferred to avoid causing a commotion if he could help it. Truth be told, he would have preferred to fly, but the sight of an owl in the heart of the goblin city was far too unusual to pass unnoticed. Thus it was that, as the stars began to overtake the sky, the King set about his mission.
In the two days since Sarah had awoken the Kingdom continued to suffer. Earthquakes had destroyed the crop of one of the largest farms inside the maze, while on the border, his spies reported a series of livestock threats and crop burnings. These happenings on the border troubled Jareth the most, as they were certainly the handiwork of Mal Morcant. As a result of the food shortages, Jareth had been forced to plunge the Kingdom into mandatory rationing of food.
Half of these problems could be solved if the Queen would do her job, he thought, frustrated. In the same span of time, Sarah had grown despondent. She barely ate, and in the few times he'd seen her out of bed, she'd looked so frail he feared she might blow away on the wind. He'd tried more than once to talk to her, but she had no interest in what he had to say. When he did try to broach the subject of her role as Queen, her eyes glazed, and she retreated into some unreachable place in her mind. To date, she remained blissfully unaware of the state of their kingdom, and as for Mal Morcant, Jareth hadn't even bothered to tell her about that particular problem.
It drove him mad. When she checked out he wanted to shake her, wanted to delve into her mind and drag her out of her dark thoughts. He could keep her locked away, he could force her to eat, but he couldn't force her to care about the realm, or even living. Once again, he was powerless to help her.
Not this time, he assured himself. He would do whatever it took to bring her back to life. He didn't care if she hated him for it. He'd waited long enough. It was time for her to grow up and accept her responsibilities.
Which was why he now roamed the winding streets of the goblin city, searching for the one person that might be able to get through to her. Hoggle. She trusted the goblin, and perhaps he could succeed where Jareth had failed. The thought of asking for the help of a coward who'd endangered Sarah more than once put a foul taste in his mouth, yet he had to try. She needed an ally, and, loathe as he was to admit it, she did not view him with anything but suspicion.
He rounded a corner until he found the place his informant had told him about. The Laughing Giant Inn, a wooden sign above the door read. He looked in the window at the cozy establishment. Three large, polished wood tables took up the center of the room, with goblins seated in groups on the accompanying wooden benches drinking and toasting each other. A roaring fire blazed in the hearth, warming the room from the night's chill breeze. On either side of the hearth were two private alcoves, places where those that preferred quiet, or those that preferred not to be found. Sure enough, tucked back into an alcove, and apparently well into his cups, was Hoggle.
Jareth swore. He did not have time to babysit a drunk dwarf. Already he doubted the success rate of this plan, but it was the last option he had down the path of kindness before that road was closed to him. No turning back now. He took a deep breath and pulled a bit of power. With Sarah helping to stabilize the power it took considerably less effort, but even still he found the threads to be erratic, shifting, and difficult as he drew them into himself. Feeling the buzzing of magic coursing through him, he focused on his destination, the empty chair next to Hoggle, and allowed himself to fade away from his place outside the inn.
He reappeared in a shower of glitter, exactly in his intended location. Never underestimate the value of a dramatic entrance, he thought. Hoggle yelled in surprise, knocking over his beer. Jareth checked to ensure his privacy spell had worked and smiled to see that not a single goblin had noticed Hoggle's outcry. They would be perfectly undisturbed here.
"Come now Hoggle, you're not displeased to see me, are you?"
"It's Hog-oh…uh…nevermind," Hoggle said, uncomfortably as he tried to mop up the beer splattered table with a grubby handkerchief. "What do you want?"
"Now, is that any way to address your King?" Jareth said, unable to resist goading the goblin. "'What can I do for you, your Majesty?' or 'How might I serve you, my liege?' will suffice nicely."
"Fat chance, your Majesty," he replied, his tone lace with sarcasm.
"Tisk. You'll have to do better than that if you have any interest in seeing miss Sarah again."
"Sarah?" he asked, eyes brightening. "I knew it! I knew she was too tough to be beaten by the likes of you!" Then his expression darkened, deep lines etching his forehead in a concerned expression. "What'd you do with her?"
Jareth sighed. They'd come to the part he'd been dreading faster than he'd anticipated. He had no idea how Hoggle would take the news of Sarah's depression, but, based on the creature's expression, it wouldn't be pleasant.
"She is alive, and well cared for," he began, choosing his words carefully, "but she is not well. I-"
"You RAT!" Hoggle said venomously, spitting on the floor at Jareth's feet. "You better tell me right now what you did-"
"What I did?" Jareth said, standing, his voice pure ice, "What I did was watch over her while she was in a coma for three days. What I did was use every tool at my disposal to nurse her back to health after her ordeal. What I did, and continue to do, is attempt to bring her spirit back as she spirals into a depression that I can't save her from. Now I've come to you for help, you ungrateful wretch, so mind you watch your tone!"
Jareth seethed in rage, still looming over Hoggle. He knew Hoggle must dislike him nearly as much as he did Hoggle, but spitting at his feet was a step too far. For his part, the goblin wore a stunned, fearful expression, his hands fidgeting nervously with the bag of jewels at his hip. When he finally summoned the courage to speak, Hoggle's voice was high-pitched and quiet as a whisper.
"Y-you need my help?"
Jareth took a deep breath and returned to his seat. Try to be nice, he thought chastising himself for his outburst, this is about what's best for Sarah and the Kingdom, not your own petty jealousies.
"Yes, Hoggle," Jareth said in a carefully calm tone, "I need your help, or, more accurately, Sarah needs you. She's…not adjusting well to her role as Queen."
"I can't imagine why," Hoggle muttered under his breath. If Jareth hadn't had the enhanced senses of the Fae he would have missed the goblin's quip. Though his blood continued to boil, Jareth chose to let the comment slide.
"There is a great deal at stake," the King continued, "more than I have time to explain right now. Suffice it to say that if she does not start fulfilling her duties as Queen, a lot of innocent people and creatures will die. Their blood will be on her hands, as well as mine."
"So…what d'ya need me for?"
"I need you to talk to her. Convince her to do her duty, whatever it takes. She won't listen to me, but she might listen to you."
Hoggle considered Jareth's proposition for a moment, then his brow furrowed, his eyes dark with suspicion.
"For all I know you've got the little lady locked up in the dungeon and mean to lock me up too! Why should I trust you?"
Jareth laughed. For once we're on the same page.
"That feeling is certainly mutual. Let me be frank for a moment, I don't like you, Hoggle. I think you're a coward and I don't trust you in the slightest, but for some inexplicable reason she trusts you. If you believe nothing else, believe this: if I thought for a second there were any other option besides asking for your help, I would take it. If you trust nothing else, trust that the situation is desperate enough that I am willing to put my my utter loathing of you aside if it will help her."
Hoggle nodded and adjusted his belt, smoothing out the wrinkles in his shirt.
"Alright. I'll do it. When do we leave?"
Jareth let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. This plan had better work, he thought. He pulled a bit of power to prepare for an equally dramatic exit.
"Meet me outside the castle gates in 10 minutes," Jareth said, "And change your shirt. You smell like ale."
With that, he disappeared, dropping his hold on the privacy spell as he faded from his seat in the alcove.