The King didn't know about the forest, but Hoggle did. The forest was all around the Labyrinth, filled with all sorts of wild fae. The fairies were obvious, of course. They flitted about in front of Jareth's face so densely that he couldn't see straight any more. Fairies liked to bite, too. And the wild ones bit harder and deeper than any fairy he'd met in the Labyrinth. On various nights he would return from his outing, and hurry to his chamber. There, he would summon up a crystal, trying to cover up his bite marks, so his father the King didn't notice. It always took several tries, and every try Jareth would frown anxiously, convinced that this time, the King would sense his magic and come running through the gilded door.
Jareth was not allowed to go outside the King's country. He was still a prince, who had to stay at home, protected. But this prince had no desire to be in the watchful company of the King. He felt smothered and ignored at the same time, whenever the King would grace him with his presence. The King would look at him from his throne, as he stood at a distance, the room in silence. Not even the goblins dared to laugh in front of the King, and they were laughing creatures. The King would then motion for him to leave, disapproval showing clearly in his eyes. At least, that's how it seemed to the prince. The King never actually said anything, that was up to Jareth to interpret.
Jareth waited for the time when he himself would be king, when he could be cryptic and it would be allowed. He would never actually be like the King, but Jareth couldn't deny the benefits of uncertainty. He was constantly required to pick and choose his words. If something that he said was remotely inaccurate, the King would capture him in a crystal, and Jareth would sit there, wondering what horrors will be introduced to this dream next. So he spent hours in his room, practicing and imagining all the things he would say. He would pace back and forth, saying the right words, in the right tone, with the right flare. His facial expressions and body language had to be mastered too, for the King saw the possibility for improvement in everything.
Jareth tried to improve, but his efforts were flawed, or so it would seem. For now, he played with wild fae. The wild fairies were different from the ones in the Labyrinth. And not just because they tended to bite more. In the Labyrinth, the fairies would find left over scraps of food everywhere on the ground. And in the trees, and on the rooftops, discarded after a good time. The goblins weren't exactly neat. They had no need for acquiring nourishment for themselves. So when the Labyrinth's fairies bit, they bit for malice, they bit for sport.
The wild fairies survived off off the blood of the passive. They would swoop down on their plain brown wings, not at all like the iridescent wonder of the winged creatures of his homeland. For why would such a small predator want to give themselves away at such a crucial moment? They would land on a shoulder, or grab an exposed leg, and they would bite down as hard as they could, with any hope breaking off a piece of blood soaked flesh to bring to their children. Labyrinthian fairies were vain, they lived to be seen, and by seeing they lived. The wild fae were in general wilder, more primal than their Labyrinthian counterparts. In the more remote parts of the forest, fairies have been known to bite through enchanted leather. Jareth had even heard stories of their teeth breaking through metal armor. He doubted that was true, though. As long as he brought the wild ones a little jam, or honey, he could provide them with a week's supply of sugar.
In his mind, Jareth liked to imagine that he was free to say all the wrong words. He would walk through the forest for hours, with Hoggle at his side, and he would jump, and kick, and climb. He would tell lies, because he certainly could tell lies to Hoggle, and he would sing songs that his childhood voice wouldn't approve of. Eventually, when Jareth learned to shift his form, he would fly through the forest like the fairies he so admired. Jareth liked the freedom of it, the magnificent splendor of the wood flying by as he moved. He would leave Hoggle by the side of a stream, and head off east, towards the Carn Mountains. This was dangerous too, he knew. His father would trap him in a crystal until he reached maturity if he knew that the sole Prince of Goblins was flying off to a foreign kingdom.
But Carn was allied with the Labyrinth, and had been for decades. There was no danger for him there, only the wonder of the snowy mountain tops as they shone pink in the sun. When their brightness got too be too much for his owl's eyes, he would return to the stream, telling Hoggle of al the sights he had seen. They would trudge back to the Labyrinth, Jareth's feet heavy after the flight, and he would sneak home, leaving Hoggle at his house in Goblin City.
