Disclaimer:All references to the characters Jareth, Sarah, Hoggle, Sir Didymus, and the film Labyrinth belong to Jim Henson Studios and other pertinent parties. I do not claim ownership to the characters and / or the original source material.
Chapter 11. Imprisoned
Clank, clank, step, step. Clank, clank, step, step. The sound of her goblin guards' footsteps gave the winding climb a percussive rhythm. Up and up, they climbed. Charlie's stocking feet made no sound on the flagstones. She glanced out of the medieval slits on the exterior of the tower to her right. She couldn't see much, however. The window slits were at what appeared to be average goblin height. They had passed a handful of doors – some ornate and some more utilitarian. Finally another turn revealed a small landing and a heavy looking door. A small figure stood in front of it with a ring laden with keys of various sizes and shapes. Charlie's eyes grew wide.
"Sir Didymus?" she asked quietly.
"My lady?" the diminutive furry figure asked in response. He tilted his head to the side and raised his white eyebrows. Clad in a long-sleeved doublet of black with blue and silver-slashed sleeves, the old knight still bore an air of aged honor. More white had crept into his whiskers along his muzzle and chin. He had also lost some of the ruddy color that Charlie had imagined as a child; Didymus appeared more light orange than red like a fox. Yet he still wore the blue hat with a feather of yellow and a black eye patch over his left eye. He blinked his good eye a few times and rubbed at an ear as if to see and hear better before looking up at Charlie."My Lady Sarah? Is that you or does my eye deceive me?"
"Sarah is my mother," Charlie said with a smile in her voice. "My name is Charlotte, but everyone calls me Charlie."
"Enough talk!" squeaked one of the goblins. He poked at Charlie with a spear. "In the room! In you go!"
"Now see here!" protested Sir Didymus. He threatened the goblin with his short staff. "That is no way to treat a lady!"
"Ain't no lady. She prisoner," argued the other goblin who seemed unafraid of the old, diminutive knight.
"One should still accord all gentle women with proper dignity and respect," harrumphed Didymus. He lost some of the wind in his sails as he amended his line. "…. even if they are prisoners."
"Open da door a'ready," grumbled the goblin with a scowl. Sir Didymus bristled but still did as he was commanded. With his back turned, Didymus failed to see the goblin give Charlie another good poke with his spear. She bit her tongue and glared down at the goblin guard as the sound of the lock turning bounced off the stones around the tower landing. Sir Didymus turned the knob and swung the door inward to reveal her prison cell. Before Charlies could assess the room, the goblin guards forced her into the room.
"In you go! In! In! Kingy says you stay here!"
"Until you are one of us!"
"I'm truly sorry for this, my lady," Sir Didymus said as Charlie walked by him into the room. She could barely here him over the goblins cackling and discussing how pretty she would be as a goblin. Charlie turned and looked pleadingly at Sir Didymus.
"Then help me, Sir Didymus," Charlie begged. "Please. For the love you bear my mother, let me out of here so I can help my cousin and beat the Labyrinth."
"Your cousin?"
"'Ere now! No talk! Just stand guard!" growled one of the goblin guards. He attempted to poke Sir Didymus with his spear, but the old fox terrier still had some growl and bite left in him.
"Do you know who I am?! How dare you accost my person! Have at thee!" he shouted wildly. The goblin guard blanched, dropped his spear, and started to rush down the stairs.
Charlie took a step forward, realizing that she had an opportunity for escape… until the other goblin guard smiled and closed the door with a loud thud. The key turned in the lock and that was it. She was a prisoner of the Goblin King.
Sinking into a crouch, she realized how surreal the past few hours had been. Slowly her gaze drifted from the clearly absent door handle to the black and silver hinges. Sandy grey stone encased her. Dried rushes and what had been sweet smelling herbs covered the wood floor. There was nothing in the room – no furniture, no crates or boxes, nothing. Overhead ancient beams crisscrossed to support the shingled roof. Here and there she saw where a shingle had been ripped away during a storm. The holes seemed to correspond with the bird droppings on the floor.
Rubbing her arms for warmth, Charlie rose to her feet. The thin window slits now alternated with larger, shuttered windows. Her hand trembled slightly. Heights were not her cup of tea. With an in-take of breath, she willed herself to open the shuttered window and look outside. Charlie's eyes went wide, and vertigo gripped her. Slamming the shuttered window shut, she closed her eyes tight and stepped away with her heart racing. Instinctively, she kept taking steps backward until something bumped into her backside. Her hands steadied her as she leaned against what felt like a crate covered by a rug.
"Why did it have to be the room in the highest tower?" she breathed with a sigh. Turning away from the windows, she opened her eyes to examine what she was using for support. Charlie could've sworn there had been nothing in the room when she had arrived. To her surprise, she hadn't found a crate covered by a rug; it was an old, high back chair in a worn and fraying tapestry fabric. In the chair lay a simple gown of pale peach with matching slippers. Beneath the gown, a green woolen blanket peered up at her. A small table rested beside the chair with a plate of food and a leather bound book. The scent of fresh lavender crept into her nose.
"My lady?" came the faint whisper through the door. Charlie's attention immediately turned to it, and she tripped over her own two feet to get to the door.
"Sir Didymus!" she said happily. "You returned!"
"Of course, my lady Charlotte!" he stated proudly through the door. The pride in his voice slowly slipped away as he spoke. "But alas, I cannot release you. I am a loyal servant to the King now, and I… I cannot cross His Majesty again."
"I understand, Sir Didymus," she replied. "I supposed I shouldn't have asked you to commit treason. I'm sorry."
"Believe me, for the love and respect I bear your mother, I would if I could!" he proclaimed. "Ladies are not to be locked in towers!"
"It's better than an oubliette," Charlie pointed out. She opted to change the conversation to more important matters. "Sir Didymus, my cousin is in dire need of your help. More than me."
"Your cousin?"
"Yes, my cousin Thomas. He is young, and he didn't know any better. He wished me away to the Goblin King, and he refused to run the Labyrinth to save me."
"How unchivalrous of him!"
Please, Sir Didymus," Charlie pleaded through the door. Then an idea struck her. "He needs a mentor, a guiding hand." She paused for effect to let the words sink in for Sir Didymus. "He could be a great knight some day… if someone would simply show him the way."
"Surely, my lady! Young minds need to be molded! Mentored! Why, when I was a lad…"
Charlie rested her head on the door as she listened to Sir Didymus' wild tale of his exploits in his younger days. She hoped the old fox-terrier knight understood. Blinking a few times, she silently let a tear fall before laughing at Sir Didymus' story.
Clank, clank, step, step. Clank, clank, step, step. The sound of his goblin guards' footsteps gave the downward climb a percussive rhythm. Down and down they went. Thomas tugged at the rope binding his wrists. He didn't really pay attention to where they were taking him. The air had grown damp and cold after the metal door. It smelled dank and bad and Thomas didn't like it. The group came to a stop in front of an iron door. In the fire light from the torch overhead, Thomas could see the pile of straw in the corner and a bucket in the other. There was silence in the dungeons.
One goblin began to untie his wrists while another unlocked the cell door. The biggest goblin pushed Thomas into the room and the boy slipped on the damp floor. He caught himself just as the door clanged shut.
"Let me out!" he shouted, turning and throwing himself at the metal threshold. "This isn't fair! Let me out!"
"Nothin's fair," muttered one of the goblins. A second scowled at Thomas.
"You stay until time is up. Then you leave," a third goblin explained. "Be quiet or we make you quiet."
Thomas ignored the threat and tried to grab for the keys. The goblin guard easily side-stepped his feeble attempt to rob him. Then they all laughed at him. The mortal boy paused and his eyes grew wide.
"No…" he breathed. "Th-th-this c-can't be real."
A goblin pinched his cheek with a clawed hand. "It be real."
Thomas grimaced in pain and rubbed at the red spot on his cheek. He fell back away from the door. The goblin laughter echoed throughout the dungeon until it ended abruptly. Thomas heard a door slam shut. Silence encroached on him. His eyes slowly adjusted to see in the dark, dank dungeon. Only faint orange lantern light lit his small cell. Three vertical shadows from the three solid iron bars in the window of his cell door stretched out before his feet. Slumping to the floor, Thomas felt like crying. Tears pricked his eyes and he sniffled.
"This isn't fair," he whined quietly. "This isn't right. I w-w-w-want Charlie. I want Aunt… Aunt S-Sarah and Uncle B-brian."
Thomas sniffled loudly and wiped his nose on his sleeve.
"Why did I have to read that stupid book? Why did I say those stupid words? I… I was angry… but not at Charlie. I wasn't angry with Charlie," he admitted quietly. "It's not fair… to her."
In a corner of the cell behind him, something moved. Slowly it shifted, inch by inch, it unwound from its position. Chain links clinked like a dull crystal bell. Thomas straightened up and turned to see what had made the sound. First one opened, then closed. Then the other eye opened, blinked and the first eye opened fully. They shone in the darkness. Below the pair of yellow eyes glowing in the darkness, too white teeth gleamed from out of a predatory smile.
"Her?" it asked in a rusty voice.
Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. The sharp, steady rhythm of his riding crop hitting his leather boot served as a cadence for his empty thoughts. Upon his throne, the Goblin King contemplated his next move. Jareth's brow furrowed with concentration. Indeed, his hands were tied. The boy had wished the maid away… to him. Of all the people to wish away a young woman to... and the child of his beloved Sarah... The boy had refused to run the Labyrinth… jareth suppressed the desire to grown aloud over the predicament. He should be callous. Unforgiving. Uncaring. Yet the memory of that long-ago love compelled him to be kind, forgiving, and caring. His hand stopped without his noticing. Jareth's glazed expression gained some clarity as he made a decision.
With a flick of his wrist, he conjured a crystal ball and an image of the maid in her high tower. He should have known she would be sitting amid the rushes. Leaning against the door, she appeared to be talking to Sir Didymus. A thought shifted the view to reveal that she had not even bothered to touch the gifts he had given her. Yet she was breaking, becoming resigned to her approaching fate. Rarely did Jareth have a soul bound to him. Children, yes, but an adult? Unheard-of. She sparked a curiosity in him. She was different yet so familiar in both her character and appearance. Uncertain of how to proceed with his new charge, Jareth turned his attention to the boy.
A twist of his wrist shifted the image to the strawberry-blond child. He cowered in the prison cell, afraid but slightly awed by something in the darkness. With a thought, Jareth changed the view to see what had caught the boy's attention. He could see through the darkness and identify the creature in the cell.
"Ahhh," mused Jareth rising to his feet. Grinning, he made the crystal ball vanish, and began to strip off his gloves. If the boy wanted to endanger himself by seeking out an adventure to save his cousin, the Goblin King would gladly play the villain to his young hero. It was a role he was more than familiar with.