A/N: I don't own the Labyrinth, its characters or anything related to it. I'm just having some speculative time with alternative storylines that could take place afterward.
The Land That Is Not
Interlude
Dry sand reflected the heat of the scorching sun, burning underneath his feet as he made his way through this wretched land. The shattered landscape rolled ahead. Like a deformed image of the sea, its waves of yellow, umber and burnt ocher wavered in the hot wind.
Hoggle swept away the copious beads of sweat from his temple and squinted at the outline of the black mountains that loomed far in the distance. He had lost his sense of thirst a long time ago, his mouth felt like dry sand. But still he resisted an urge to drink from the flask on his belt; he had no idea if he could find more water in this wasteland. As if by magic, he turned and looked behind. The Goblin Kingdom and its light green gardens, a medley of twisting corridors, and the shimmering cool, small ponds and rivers had disappeared from his sight a long time ago. Still, he looked–hoping for…what exactly, he tried guessing: retribution? Amnesty? Hoggle snorted, but the sound came out too soft and melancholic. His initial rage from Jareth's verdict had died long ago. If there was something Hoggle had learned, it was not to cling to bitterness and resentment: those wouldn't help him. But gods knew how he missed the familiarity of the Labyrinth, its magic-filled scent and chattering of the fairies, and tender warmth of the sun against his skin …His home.
A high-pitched screech tore the air, multiplied in the vastness of the endless dune sea. Startled, Hoggle gave a look around. A dark form of a bird glided through the cloudless sky. He shivered, instinctively, even after he recognized the predatory shape of the dark bird as a hawk: It was not the snowy barn owl… Not his king. But something about the bird kept him immobile. He watched ease of the bird as it glided across the cloudless sky towards the line of the dark, rugged mountains and their white peaks.
With renewed resolve, he took after the bird. In this god-forbidden place, he couldn't afford to miss such signs. Where there was life, there bound to be shelter—and, he hoped, also water.
The afternoon heat was still blazing from the dark rocks burning under his hands. The sun had disappeared behind the sand; only a gleaming glow lightened the sky's edge that was growing darker with each passing moment. Hoggle's breath ragged in his throat as he hurried forward, climbing as fast as he could. His arms were shaking from the effort, the sweat pearls rolled down his chin, but he didn't dare to rest. When the last light disappeared, he would be forced to stop, blinded by darkness. Who knew what kind of monsters lived in these mountains? Hoggle had heard stories of the beasts that preyed in the nameless lands beyond the Labyrinth, the murderous creatures banished from their realms and kingdoms.
He couldn't contain his shiver. Then, he shook his head, appalled at his own thoughts and continued his ascent. "No need to scare yerself to death on yer own accord," he muttered under his exhausted breath.
The sun was barely a memory when he finally reached a ledge on the mountainside, still far below the sharp peaks of the snow-covered mountains. Gasping for air, he leaned against a dark stone, fished out his flask and drunk; lukewarm water on his lips tasted better than any goblin ale he'd gulped in his life. Greedily, he tilted the flask more, uncaring of the fact it contained his last water. Hoggle guzzled down all he had and shook the container until not a single drop fell down any longer. Realization left him nervous, but Hoggle pushed the feeling aside. Besides, water had returned some of his previously sapped energy.
He peered around and hissed out loud, realizing only then how precariously near to the edge he rested. He couldn't stay at this place if he wanted to rest safely! Ignoring his screaming muscles, Hoggle scrambled up painstakingly slow.
It was a mere luck that he had stopped on this particular ledge, since soon after getting back on his feet he saw a beginning of something that looked like a path just behind his previous backrest, skirting higher through the sharp-edged rocks. The narrow path led away from the ledge towards a plateau of a sort, ringed with thorny, leafless bushes. In the twilight, his progress was slow; Hoggle stopped every so often to check that he was still on the path and to avoid possible hidden trenches. The cooling air brushed his neck and caused him shiver: What he would give for a place to rest, a crackling fire, and something to eat!
He knew this was a fool's errand, but he kept going forward on the narrow path.
Suddenly, he stopped and peered into the distance. Did his eye deceive him, or did he see something in the distance? A shivering twinkle, then gone. He barely dared to move, breathing slowly. There! He had not imagined it. A flickering light moved, and disappeared again.
Hoggle darted onward, afraid that he would lose a sight of the light. He knew that where there was light, there ought to be people…and possibly even shelter! The air burned his throat as he hurried along the uneven, narrow path, almost invisible in the dimming dusk. With each passing step, Hoggle's mood begun to soar as the light grew brighter and its winking steadier. His feet took him even faster until they came to a halt.
In front of him hunched a wooden house – more like a shack to be honest– built with a darkened, weather-beaten wood that barely provided any protection from the elements. The twinkling light Hoggle had been following shone through holes in the torn and broken wood shingles towards the –now– starlit sky. Time and weather had eaten all color from the forlorn, weathered logs gleamed dark in the glow spreading out on the ground though the windows. Hoggle could see shadows moving inside. Hesitantly, he tiptoed closer, trying to muster courage to knock on the door.
He stopped when he heard voices from inside. After waiting for a while, he crawled just beneath the cracked wooden windowsill, away from the sight; weighing consequences of announcing his presence to these unknown people.
"What now, Procne?" the speaker, a man, snapped. Instinctively Hoggle pulled away from the light and the speaker; he didn't like his harsh tone.
"You have a guest," a woman replied with a faint tinkle accompanying her words. Hoggle brushed away the faint curiosity the tinkle caused. He was more concerned of her words. How could they know he was here?!
"Ah, perfect! He has come at last," the man muttered, a barely hidden content in his voice.
Hoggle's mouth opened but no sound came. Too terrified to even move, he half expected to see a ghastly face peeking out through the window and look at him. Instead, the man addressed the woman again, "You can go. I will see him myself."
Maybe he could still make it out in time before this nasty-sounding man came looking for him? Having barely decided this, Hoggle started to pull back.
The silence felt like an eternity. Then, the man suddenly spoke, "What are you waiting, Procne. Away you go!"
Hoggle was just about to exit the sphere of light when he heard her reply.
"The boy," she sounded hesitant, almost sad. Hoggle heard that odd tinkling noise again. "Why did you take him? He has no part in this…"
The boy? Hoggle glanced back toward the window, intrigued; he heard a succession of hurried steps raced and a sudden smack.
"That's none of your business, wife! No, back to your cage, or I'll do what I did to your sister!"
He should leave as long as he could. The guest Procne had mentioned must have been someone else, and Hoggle rather had it that way; the man sounded dangerous. But Procne's words about the boy fixed Hoggle in his place. Who could she have been talking about?
The chiming grew more audible, and odd swishing and swooping sound like a wind suddenly tearing a clothesline full of linens reached Hoggle's ears. He held his breath, listening. Then, just as unexpected, peace returned. Only that light tinkle and faint chirping were audible any longer. Hoggle squinted his eyes as he listened, recognizing a swallow's song. In the name of the Labyrinth, what is going on?! The curiosity getting the best of him, he returned to his previous spot under the window and peeked.
The room was austere and had only little furniture – a rustic chair and a table. In addition to those, Hoggle noticed three, oval-shaped birdcages standing at the back of the room. The largest one, reaching almost to the ceiling, had a small peregrine falcon in it: the bird let out an angry hiss at a dark-robed man who was slowly walking towards the birdcages; he had his back turned to Hoggle. The woman was nowhere to be seen.
Hoggle focused on the man. The hems of his long, dark jacket swished against the worn, wooden floor as he neared the birdcages and stopped. His hands reached out, opening the door of the middle cage dangling on a hook at the wall. Gently, almost contradicting his earlier ferocity, he let something fall in before closing the cage's door. As he stepped away, Hoggle had a view of the creature winging its way on a horizontal bar: It was the swallow he had heard just moments before.
The man leaned forward and murmured barely audibly, "Oh, yes, Procne. I would do the same to you as to your sister if I had to."
The bird chirped, and a tiny bell in its neck let out a peal.
"Indeed," he replied as if understanding the bird. When he continued, Hoggle could hear a sinister undertone in the words, "The boy is the key. Now, I only need his sister."
The swallow let out a mournful chirp, and the man spun around on his heels.
Hoggle dropped on his knees with a lighting speed, covering his mouth and swallowing a choke, afraid that he had been noticed. His heart raced in his chest as he listened closely.
"Just wait and see, Procne. She'll be mine, with or without your help." He let out a loud cackle and started walking. The floorboard creaked under his weight, the door squeaked loudly on its hinges, and the man left the room.
Hoggle leaned his back on the old wooden wall, feeling more tired, hungry, and dumbfounded than ever before.