Losing Your Head
Jareth exited the Oubliette, escaping through the shadows creeping through every crack in the wall. He emerged into the clouded sunlight, bright enough to sting his eyes for a just a moment before they readjusted themselves. He swirled his right arm over his chest in one swift action, lifting his body up and becoming a barn owl once more. He rose up high over the Labyrinth, his strong wings beating at his side.
Living in the Underground, Jareth was not accustomed to feeling anything, and so to feel so much within such a short time he was appropriately exhausted. He had forgotten the titles of his emotions; they remained anonymous demons that plagued his mind, his actions, and his heart. He recognized frustration, anger, and spite, but there was a longing, an emptiness—and an even greater desire to fill it. Something else, too, hidden amongst the anguish. It couldn't possibly be hope, could it? Jareth seethed. What a horribly weak, human thing. Hope? He needed none. Everything he wanted he got; there was no need to hope that he would obtain it. But that was it, wasn't it. Sarah turned his world upside down, as he was the one most altered by her presence.
Jareth's self-loathing nearly boiled over by the time he had flown back to his castle. He landed on his bedroom windowsill, his claws morphing into fine leather boots as he felt the marble tiling below. A goblin stood watch near Toby, who was preoccupied with an old book and was flipping its rusted pages.
"Y-your majesty," the goblin muttered.
"What?" Jareth snapped, eager for any opportunity to take out his anger on his minions.
"The-I've—"
"C'mon, spit it out!"
"I've heard word that Sarah's met The Wise Man with the Bird Hat,"
"Ha!" Jareth scoffed. That was a title he hadn't heard in quite a while.
Jareth stalked back to the window after scooping up Toby into his long arms. He juggled the toddler for a minute as he reminisced back to a time so long ago he had been on the verge of forgetting it completely. The Wise Man with the Bird Hat: that wasn't always his name. He was a fellow entertainer like himself, though his magic was one of the tongue: A storyteller, a raconteur—an illusionist for the mind, not the senses.
Memories long locked away were crawling their way back to the light of existence. Jareth recalled the day that he, along with The Wise Man with the Bird Hat, was cast out of the land of sky-born perfection. He felt his jaw harden with hate, and then release with the futility of nursing an enmity so ancient. They were both in the Underground now, but at least he still had his magic. And he had gotten his revenge, oh yes. The Wise Man had a lifetime to wander throughout his Labyrinth, forever seeking an exit. But a thought momentarily arose: What if he wasn't looking for the exit anymore? The Wise Man was crafty; did he have something up his sleeve?
"Send someone out!" Jareth bellowed as soon as the thought entered his mind, and Toby began to weep in his arms. "Send someone out. Stop her from going any further!"
Hurriedly Jareth conjured forth his bauble, seeking out Sarah in his Labyrinth. He'd missed it—Sarah and Hidgewort had only just parted ways with the old man, and were now continuing down a section of his Labyrinth comprised of hedged walls and sandy paths. He saw one of his goblins turn the wrong direction, avoiding Sarah completely.
"Damn useless fools!"
I'll have to do this myself, Jareth thought, setting his jaw. He placed Toby into the arms of an unwilling goblin, and paced towards the windowsill. How could he stall for time?
He saw in his crystal that Wortworth was chatting with Sarah. He just barely heard the word "friend" leave the mouth of the ugly little creature, before a menacing roar startled the dwarf and sent him away.
"Friend," Jareth echoed, and the cogs in his brain began running.
Sarah trusts him. Jareth thought. And I can use that.
Quickly Jareth devised a plan. He would corner the dwarf, and use her trust for him against her. He looked to the clock on the wall. Eight-forty it read. Just over four hours left until 13 o'clock: midnight. Sarah's thirteen hours would be up.
This is the best time to use it! Jareth thought. It was a spell he had learned in Esitrea, from an old book of fairytales. How would he do it? Jareth paced for a minute, before it came to him: Surely Sarah was ravished by now, and he knew her favourite fruit. Peaches! All he needed to do was lure her in, and then wait until it was twilight when the spell would take effect. He had no control over the sunrise and sunset, but looking out his window he knew it would be soon. He had time to relax for just a minute.
Jareth sat himself on his throne. "You there. Shine my boots," he ordered to a nearby goblin. They'd gotten dusty in the Oubliette. "Give him to me," he ordered another goblin holding Toby.
He lifted a leg and cradled the boy on his lap. Around him his minions were busying themselves with meager forms of entertainment, and Jareth's mind began to wander. Once more he found his reminiscing was directed towards Esitrea. This time it was about the Emperor, the stupid and bulky fool who sat old and lonely over his near-perfect dominion. Jareth felt himself cringe, thinking of how he had failed to take over that position. How had his plan failed? It seemed flawless. Under his rule, Esitrea would truly have become perfect.
Jareth shook the thoughts from his mind. They wouldn't do him any good now, and he wanted this rare good mood to last. Another look to the clock showed eight-fifty four.
"Hungry, Toby?" Jareth asked the boy. No answer came, but Jareth popped a sweet into the toddler's mouth just the same. Toby let out a satisfied belch.
"Oh, he's a lively little chap. I think I'll call him Jareth." Jareth smirked. "He's got my eyes."
His minions chuckled alongside him.
One more look to the clock read nine-fifteen.
"As good a time as any," he said aloud.
Jareth pulled out his bauble to see exactly where Hodnoggin was headed. He was wandering through the maze, of course; a rocky, dusty path. As good a place as any, Jareth thought.
He chuckled to himself, high with the anticipation of his plan's outcome. He set off from his tower and was at the dwarf's location in less than a minute. Like he had in the Oubliette, he plotted his landing for an area the dwarf would soon enter. After he touched down, Jareth pulled himself into the shadowed crevices of a nearby rock, timing himself perfectly for when the dwarf would round the corner. Soon enough, his patience was rewarded as the unpleasant thing hobbled by. Just as the dwarf passed him, a cry rang through the air:
"Hoggle! Help!"
It was Sarah.
"I'm comin', Sarah!" the dwarf responded immediately, turning on his heels.
But it was too late. Jareth was quicker and had him cornered. "Well! If it isn't you!" Jareth curled his lips, baring a wicked smile. "And, uh, where are you going?"
"Uh-Uh—Well, the little lady gave me the slip, but uh—" Sarah's calls were still off in the distance, becoming increasingly more desperate. "I just hear them now. So uh, I was about to lead her back to the beginning…like you told me."
What terrible liars dwarves are. Jareth concluded.
"I see," Jareth stood and paced around the dwarf, to intimidate him. "For one moment I thought you were running to help her. But, uh, no—not after my warnings, that would be stupid."
"Oh, you bet it would! Me? Help her? After your warnings?" The dwarf began to cackle nervously, until he turned and met face-to-face with Jareth who had snuck up on him.
"Oh, dear," Jareth cooed, mimicking concern. "Poor Hoghead!"
"Hoggle," the dwarf murmured as an interjection.
"I just noticed your lovely jewels are missing." Jareth pulled him closer.
"Uh—oh, yes! So they are. My lovely jewels. Lemme think… uh, uh, I gotta find them." Sarah's cries continued. "But first! I'm off to take the little lady back to the beginning of the Labyrinth. Just like we planned."
The dwarf had turned to leave, but Jareth stopped him. "Wait!" he commanded. "I've got a much better plan, Hoggle."
Jareth pulled from his sleeve a replica of his crystal ball, and spun it around his fingers for show. "Give her this." He tossed the ball and as it fell downwards it morphed into a plump peach and landed in the ugly, wart-covered hand of the dwarf.
"Whu-what is it?" the dwarf stammered.
"It's a present."
"It…ain't gonna hurt the little lady, is it?"
A flicker of fury burned in Jareth's chest. "Oh, now why the concern?"
"Uh, I won't do nothin' to harm 'er." the dwarf looked down shamefully.
"Oh, come come come, Hogbrain!" The flame in Jareth's chest grew. "I'm surprised at you. Losing your head over a girl."
"I ain't lost my head." He denied.
"You don't think a young girl could ever like a repulsive, little scab like you, do you?" Jareth thrust his staff accusingly into the portly little body of the dwarf.
How could she like something disgusting like you, Jareth thought, when she has someone like me?
"Well, she said we was…"
"What, companions?" Jareth scoffed. "Friends?"
Hoggle sighed. "It don't matter."
Jareth lost his patience. He grabbed the thing's ear. "You'll give her that, Hoggle, or I'll tip you straight into the Bog of Eternal Stench before you can blink!"
"Right," the dwarf sauntered off meekly after he'd been released.
One last repugnant thought entered Jareth's head as he himself went to leave. What if she did like that revolting creature more than she liked him—the Goblin King?
Jareth seethed. "And Hoggle—" The dwarf turned. "If she ever kisses you, I'll turn you into a prince."
"Y-you will?" Hoggle stammered hopefully.
Jareth raised his arms mockingly. "Prince of the Land of Stench!" He exited the scene roaring with laughter.
It was all set now; Jareth's plan was about to commence. As soon as he'd finished his chat with the dwarf, he was in the air again, white wings glowing in the dimming light. He reached his castle swiftly, and sought to finish preparations for his spell. He didn't have much left to do—but wait.
A/N:
I know I haven't been around a while, but I hope any fans (as little as that may be) of this small story are still around. I do plan to finish-eventually!