Chapter Three: The Broken Castle

Jareth nursed a stiff drink in bitter reverie, shocked and agitated at the turn of events. He slouched further into his throne, resting one leg over the other and tossing a glare in the direction of his only company.

"Why does winning seem like losing with that woman?" he grumbled. "For both of us! Was I not good to her? Was I not kind, taking her offer instead of leaving her siblings to the horde? We've both won, yet she cries like a captive and I – I …"

"You drink like a fish so you won't feel no more guilt."

Jareth blinked and stared at his servant, who immediately realised he'd overstepped and hunkered into himself. "Bold words for a Dwarf-turned-Goblin servant, Higgle," he remarked dryly. "Don't bother correcting me, I know your name." He sniffed. "I just prefer to keep you in your place." He finished his drink and conjured another, pointing the glass at the creature that used to be Hoggle. "No, I'll tell you why she's taken the fun out of it," he said, sitting up a little. "She forced my hand. That's what it is." He'd been incredibly patient, nursing his wounded heart for months on end while he peeked in on Sarah and waited for her to grow up. He'd bit his tongue in silence as she'd made bad decisions as a teenager, had shook his head at the myriad of foolish boys she'd flutter over. Her exploration into the adult world of sex had nearly driven him mad with envy but he'd endured it all in the knowledge that one day she'd be ready for him, under careful guidance. "What was I supposed to do, take her sister and force her brother to run the Labyrinth as it is now? She'd never have forgiven me." Is that worse than what the goblins now think of you, having taken away their rightful prize? The thought answered itself without hesitation. Yes. He lowered his voice, downed the whole drink in one go and threw the glass away. It vanished before it could shatter on the stone. "No, this is her doing. She changed the game and now she doesn't want to live with the consequences."

"Can yer blame her?" Hoggle grumbled.

"I think I liked you better as a coward," Jareth remarked shrewdly. "You've grown far too confident in that new form of yours."

"By all means, Sire, put me right again and I won't have nothin' to say about nothin' no more."

This wrung a laugh from the King, dashing any hope Hoggle might have felt.

She was hungry. No, she was starving. And she felt terrible, heavy and hazy-minded and alone. Sarah had slept all afternoon in a fit of exhaustion following an anxiety attack. When she'd finally stopped crying she'd noticed her surroundings were obviously meant to be her new bedroom. The room was red and grey, stone and velvet working together to give the impression of comfort in a place of great power. The bed was a large mahogany monstrosity, making her feel tiny in its depths. There was only one small round window. The realisation had sent her into a panic. What if this has all been some elaborate scheme just to get me here? What if I'm trapped here forever and the Queen has no intention of sending me home?

Now that she was awake again she chased away those thoughts. "They're not going to help you Sarah," she whispered to herself. "The only one who can help you is yourself." Blinking wearily, her stomach growled and she curled into her side. She felt withered and dirty. "Starting with some food and a shower." Her torn jeans and loose flannel shirt, perfect for lazy babysitting, seemed a thousand years old and no longer comfortable. Climbing down from her monster of a bed she edged over to the window and pulled back the crimson curtain. She suspected it was early in the morning from the way the sky was just starting to lighten from its inky blue. Below her was a neglected garden, dry and brown and littered with dying plants. The sight made her unhappy so she looked back to the sky, searching for stars. There were none, only strange colours shifting like oil on water every now and then. "So this is it, huh? This is my life now." She sniffed back fresh tears, knowing how puffy-eyed and red she must be already. "Come on now Sarah, it's not forever." She patted her demanding stomach and headed for the door, for a brief moment worrying it might be locked. But no, she was a willing participant in all this. Surely that granted her a little freedom. She peeked out into a deserted stone hallway. As soon as her body was out the door the hall was flooded with soft light, illuminating her way.

Feeling vulnerable in the sudden brightness Sarah blinked rapidly, pressing herself against the wall and peering either way. After all, this was the Goblin King's castle – when are you going to learn to just say his name, Sarah? Have to do it sometime – who knew what horrors were lurking inside? Picking a random direction she tiptoed along, barely breathing as the light followed her through the castle. She found herself almost wishing that one of the goblins of her old days would appear. At least she knew she could handle those ones. "The ones formed from human children," said a voice in the back of her memory. Toby had almost become one of them, Sarah remembered with a shiver, drawing her arms around herself. And now they're all dead.

She crossed a flight of stairs that took her down a level and ended up on a landing, overlooking what she recognised as the entrance hall. It was so silent. There was nobody anywhere, no creatures or shadows or sounds of any kind. Where is everyone? Shouldn't I have some kind of tour guide or something? She took a few steps down the landing when she realised that the front door led outside. And outside led to the gates of the Goblin City. And the Goblin City was definitely not somewhere she wanted to end up. Scurrying back up the stairs, she leaned against the wall and waited for her heart to stop pounding.

"What are you doing here, Sarah?" she whispered to herself. "What are you doing?" The hairs on the back of her neck prickled with the feeling of being watched. Numbly she rubbed at them, scanning the landing for a source.

She screamed at what she found staring at her from the bottom of the stairs. It was a huge goblin, bigger than she'd ever seen, with ruddy red skin and straggly hair and two very sharp fangs hanging over its bottom lip. It watched her intently with small beady eyes set deep into a large, squashed head. In the time it took Sarah to process all this, the goblin had already ascended half the stairs and was shuffling straight towards her. She stared back in horror, unsure of what to do. If she tried to run it would surely give chase, and where would she go?

"That's enough!" she shouted in sheer panic, watching helplessly as it reached the landing. "I said stop there!"

Its deformed ears pricked towards her, listening, but it did not slow down. "Now – now you listen to me," Sarah continued, the authority in her voice betrayed by her body as it pressed desperately back into the wall. "This is my castle too now, have you got that? I'm living here and I have every right to be here just as much as you." The goblin stood towering over her in total silence. The smell was overpowering – like freshly tanned leather and sweat. "You and I are going to have to get along, as I'm sure the King won't tolerate any fighting –" her false bravado faded in a soft scream of fright when one gnarled hand the size of her head reached out –

And stroked her cheek.

Sarah's eyes were shut tight but they widened at the surprisingly gentle touch. It was oddly sweet, the way its fingers grazed across her cheek and settled there. Nearly choking on the smell, she looked up into those eyes and saw a vaguely familiar kindness. "Do – do I know you?" she asked with a frown, studying the goblin that towered over her and feeling her panic ebb away. He – it seemed like a male, she'd decided – took his hand away and she swore there was a smile on that unfortunate face. "I've never met a goblin like you before, but…" she pondered as he stepped back, allowing her room to breathe again. "Well then. I take it you're not going to hurt me?" There was definitely a smile in there under all those big teeth and wide lips. "Good. Then can you help me find something to eat? I'm starving."

With an excited little grunt he gestured for Sarah to follow and they made their way through the castle. He wasn't a quick creature, being so big with such stubby legs. Sarah's stomach complained about the slow pace but she ignored it, trying to get a word out of her new companion. She didn't remember any goblin that was able to keep its mouth shut for more than a few seconds. "Are there others like you?" she asked, but he just gave that oddly endearing smile again in answer. "I thought there were only the really horrible goblins left. Were you here when the fights went on?" His ears drooped and he swung his big head around to look at her, fear in his eyes. "So that's a yes then," she said gently, plucking at a loose thread on her rolled up sleeve. "I'm so glad you're friendly; I was really freaked out you were going to be one of them…I can't believe I was ever afraid of those other little guys. They were nothing compared to what I saw yesterday – I'm sorry. You probably don't want all that nasty stuff brought up, do you?" She patted his fuzzy shoulder and they continued on. "We've all got nasty stuff we don't want to think about. I get it."

Eventually they arrived outside a dining room that looked like it had it seen battle. The wide bay window was smeared with dust, letting in what little pale morning light there was. It created a ghostly pallor over the heavy wooden furniture scattered around the room at random. The table was pushed to one side, presumably to keep it balanced as one carved leg seemed about ready to snap. The chairs, what were left of them, bore deep scratches and missing appendages like soldiers. There was a painting on the wall but she couldn't have guessed what it had once been, as the canvas had been torn to shreds and the frame was half hanging to the floor.

"Not much of a way to receive guests," Sarah commented. Her goblin friend picked up one of the heavy chairs with ease, dusted it off, and set it at one end of the table. He gestured for her to sit down and then disappeared into a side room once she did. "What the hell happened here?" she asked when he came back carrying a plate awkwardly in his dumpy arms. He set it on the table and then took a spot on the floor beside her. His height ensured he was still at least eye level with her. "Uh, thanks…" she frowned at the offering before her, not entirely sure what it was. Some kind of bread, she guessed, but with the texture of an old potato skin. The goblin gestured encouragingly for her to eat, so she shrugged and tore it up for them to share. It was quite moist yet somehow still tasted like very stale bread. It silenced her moaning stomach but Sarah hoped the cuisine would improve in the future.

They ate in silence for a while, the reality of her situation threatening to sink in again as she surveyed the dismal surroundings. A knot began to wind itself up inside her and she put her food aside, feeling alone despite the company. She felt a weight settle on her knee and smiled sadly at the hand that was reaching over to console her. She placed her own over it, wiping her damp eyes.

"So…" she cleared her throat, tight with tears unshed. "Do you like it here?"

Her friend shrugged one shoulder, his kind eyes turning mellow with a sadness she could understand without words. "I know the feeling," she replied. "But it's not like we really have a choice though, right? I mean I don't know about you, but I'm stuck here until – well, I shouldn't really talk about that." She smiled. "Not that you're going to tell anyone, hey?" She brought her feet up onto the chair and hugged her legs to her chest. "Thank you for the food. Whatever it was."

"Enjoying your stay, Sarah?"

Her smile vanished at the sound of that voice. Her friend jumped to his feet and bowed his head, but Sarah simply glanced casually over her shoulder at the Goblin King standing in the doorway.

"Actually I have a few complaints," she told him blandly.

"Oh?" he arched an eyebrow, sweeping into the room. "Enlighten me. I do love feedback."

"My view stinks, I'm afraid my bed is going to swallow me in my sleep, the food is unimaginative to say the least and your dining room looks like a graveyard where furniture goes to die." She smiled sweetly. "How's that for feedback?"

He returned her expression with a mocking bow. "Greatly appreciated. I'll have the servants beaten for letting their standards fall so low."

At the goblin's low moan and Sarah's cry of outrage he straightened with a smirk. "It was only a joke, precious."

"Abuse isn't funny," she retorted, wondering just how the hell she was supposed to pretend to fawn over someone with such terrible taste. Now that he was closer she could make out the details of his appearance – tired and fairly ruffled, she would call it. "You look terrible."

He glanced down at his clothes for a moment, fingers itching as if he wanted to tidy himself up. "I had a…difficult night," he replied, running a hand through his wild hair instead.

"Yeah," Sarah snorted bitterly. "I know the feeling."

"Come now Sarah, you're being rather rude to your host." He waved his hand and a chair dragged itself over to him, the scuffs and broken legs repairing themselves on the way until he sat down in a brand new seat.

"Forgive me my Lord," she said sarcastically. "I'm just tired, you know, what with you kidnapping me and everything."

His eyes sparkled with mirth. Was he enjoying this? "I believe it can hardly be called kidnapping. You did beg me to take you." The insinuation of his final worlds made her skin prickle. She pulled her flannel shirt tighter around herself, which only drew his attention to her outfit. "What are you wearing, by the way? You look like a vagabond."

"What? They're my comfy clothes," she replied defensively, suddenly aware of every bit of sweat and grime. "If you'd have given me more than five seconds I could have changed."

"If I'd spent a second longer there my goblins would have ripped your family apart whether I decided to take them or not," he said so icily that she bit back any other smart comment that might have come to mind. He leaned in close enough that she felt his breath on her tucked up knees. "I am not the one at fault here, Sarah. Your brother wished away your sister. You chose to be here in their place. I have offered you the best possible option when you hadn't many to begin with. You would do well to remember that."

Filled with sudden rage because she couldn't scream the truth in his face, Sarah clenched her jaw and got up from the chair. "I'd like to have a bath now," she said stonily, feeling dizzy with emotion. She looked to the goblin in a silent plea for him to take her away. He had faded away in the presence of his master, now he seemed to come back to himself and rushed to her side.

The Goblin King regarded her with a strange expression. "So soon? Won't you join me for breakfast? We've so much to catch up on."

"I've already eaten," Sarah replied, wishing he would just let her go.

"I believe your friend there has no clue where the bathroom is," he said to her retreating form. "Goblins aren't prone to bathing."

She ground her teeth in frustration. "Well then, would you care to show me where they are?" she asked in a forcibly calm voice. "Or would you like me to run around in clothes that smell like goblins? No offence," she added with a side glance at her friend.

She gasped at the King's sudden appearance beside her. "Perhaps you should just take them off," he suggested in an innocent tone that was completely betrayed by a guilty wink. He looped her arm through his. "Shall I give you the tour then, Sarah?" he cast a glance at the goblin, who was eyeing him with the first signs of aggression Sarah had seen in him. "Go," he told the creature, who sighed and shuffled away. Sarah watched him go helplessly as she was led in the opposite direction.

In the silence that followed she started to feel awkward. Especially as they walked so close together, and he seemed uninterested in saying anything. "What's his name?" she asked, nodding back toward the goblin's direction.

That seemed to amuse him, for whatever reason. "Oh, it's not important," he waved a dismissive hand. Then, in a lower voice: "You've changed so much you know. Yet hardly at all." He looked at her with that strange expression again.

Sarah was beginning to think it might be something distinctly wistful. "Sorry, my shoelace…" she mumbled, excusing herself from his arm to bend down.

"I make you uncomfortable, don't I Sarah?"

"Hmm?" she muttered distractedly. "Why do you say that?"

"You don't have laces."

She blushed furiously into her jeans.

"It's understandable."

She blinked up at him. "It is?"

"Of course. I'm very handsome and very powerful and you've lusted after me since you were fifteen. Things are bound to be a little tense between us."

Sarah shot to her feet in indignation. "I haven't been lusting after you!" she exclaimed. "You do know I'm a grown woman now, right? That I haven't spent the last ten years mooning after you like some teenager? Don't flatter yourself, Goblin King."

He grinned at her. "You rise so easily to the bait, precious," he replied. "How can you expect me not to cast the line?"

"Stop calling me precious. I'm not a little girl."

His eyes flashed. "And yet you have yet to offer me a single gracious word, like the spoilt child you have always been."

Sarah threw her hands in the air. "That's it. I can't deal with you right now. You have no idea how I'm feeling, do you? I've just lost everything important to me."

"I know that feeling more than you will ever understand," he replied in a voice so cold she shivered. "I live that feeling, every single day."

"Then show me some god damn common decency!" Sarah yelled, unable to help herself.

"I will when you do the same!"

Sarah growled in frustration and stalked away down the hall. "Forget it! I'll find the bathroom on my own!" she shouted over her shoulder, leaving him seething in her wake.

Things were no better the next day. Sarah was beginning to think the Queen had made a huge mistake – there was no way this infuriating Fae was in love with her. They'd only spent two days together and most of that time had been spent bickering. He had finally shown her to the bathroom after she'd wandered the castle for five hours and was close to hysteria. She'd been begrudgingly relieved if not exactly grateful for the help. The bathroom had been closer than expected and contained the most luxurious claw-footed tub she'd ever had the pleasure of bathing in. After soaking away her anger she'd almost been willing to see the amusing side of her predicament, but dinner had changed that:

"Where's my friend?" Sarah enquired as they sat together in the newly repaired dining room. She was sitting as far away from him as possible, but if this irked him he didn't show it. "The goblin I met yesterday before you scared him away. I'd like to see him again."

He wiped the corner of his mouth with a napkin and sipped his wine without looking at her. "You're to have no further contact with him, nor any of the others," he told her as casually as if he'd been talking of the weather.

"What? Why not?" Sarah exclaimed, hand clenching around her fork.

"The whole world doesn't bend to your every whim, Sarah," he replied with an annoyingly careless shrug. "Especially not my world. They are not here to serve you. Nor am I."

"I didn't say anything about servitude," Sarah snapped. "I just wanted someone to talk to, that's all! What am I supposed to do all day?"

"Am I not satisfying company?" he asked completely innocently.

"Are you kidding me? You moved that bathroom around for five hours just to mess with me! Why would I want to spend all day with you?"

"And am I not a generous servant?" he replied as if she hadn't spoken. "I have provided the smaller bed you wished for; I have supplied you with a vanity desk and all its accoutrements; I filled your wardrobe with clothing to keep you from suffering the same attire every day."

Sarah dropped her fork to the table, in case she suddenly found some part of him to implant it in. "The clothes you gave me would have been inappropriate on a prostitute," she said heatedly. "It wasn't funny."

"Oh Sarah, you take life too seriously. I only aim to entertain, you know."

"Entertain who? Me or yourself?"

He simply chuckled.

"This is ridiculous," Sarah grumbled. "I feel like Belle stuck dining with the Beast. Only without all the singing teapots."

"I would be careful about drawing such comparisons, Sarah."

"Oh? And why's that?"

He traced his finger around the rim of his wine glass; it made a gentle ringing sound in the quiet of the room. "Do you know what happened in the true version of that tale? With the beauty and her beast?"

Sarah shook her head, wary of his sudden casualness that seemed to contrast with the severity of his voice. He placed his glass on the table and stood up, making his way toward her. Then he leant over the table and said very quietly:

"The beast did not become a prince for his beauty. He devoured her."

Shuddering at the memory of his dark words, Sarah shimmied into her snug pyjamas – a soft woollen nightdress and robe – and sat at the vanity desk, readying for bed. She knew that her behaviour was destructive. She knew that she was a grown woman and this was no way to handle things and with each day she seemed to be getting farther and farther away from her purpose. And yet he brought out a fire in her that she hadn't felt since being a teenager. It didn't help that she found him insanely attractive. Her impression of him seemed to fit somewhere between arrogant ass and sexy fantasy creature. It was a difficult line to balance, being flushed with anger at one point and subtle attraction the next. She picked up a hairbrush and tried to soothe away her confusion by counting the strokes but instead began wondering if her family knew she was missing. It was a thought so dismal that at first she didn't notice the tall green figure lurking in the background of her mirrored reflection. Then it coughed pointedly, and she saw it and shrieked in surprise. Whirling around, Sarah clutched the brush as if it were a reasonable weapon.

But it wasn't behind her; it was inside the mirror. She realised it was the Elf who had summoned her yesterday. "Jesus Christ, you scared the hell out of me!" she gasped, dropping her brush with trembling hands. It annoyed her that she was so rattled by a little mirror trick. Her interactions with the Goblin King were starting to put her on edge. "What are you doing here?"

The Elf climbed out of the mirror the way he'd done so before in the Queen's court, taking care to step over her desk and onto the floor just short of gracefully. "I apologise for frightening you Miss," he said, straightening up. "But her Majesty Queen Mira has sent me to enquire about how your mission was progressing."

"You mean have I tricked the Goblin King into professing his undying love for me yet?" Sarah snorted. "What was your name again?"

"Wick, Miss."

"Well, Wick, tell her Majesty it's going to take more than a day. Her son is an ass. Personally I think she's got it very wrong."

Wick shrugged helplessly, a strange gesture for such a towering creature with pointed teeth. "I'm just doing my job, Miss."

"And why is this your job?" Sarah asked, crossing her legs up on her stool and resuming brushing her hair. "You don't seem to enjoy it very much."

He looked at her as if he thought surely she was joking. "It's the Elf life, Miss. Enjoyment has nothing to do with it." He stood there with a quiet awkwardness and watched her brushing her hair. "But, might I say…the sooner you procure the King's confession the sooner you and your family can return to normal life."

Sarah stopped brushing and fixed him with a hard expression. "Right. My family. My brother and sister, who you held ransom against me."

"That," Wick replied with a look of genuine regret, "I do sincerely apologise for. But I was just doing –"

"Your job?" she interrupted. "That's a pretty pathetic excuse, Wick. They're my little brother and sister, and you scared them. If you don't like your job, why don't you just quit? Take up gardening or something." Despite her irritation, she smiled a little with a sudden silly thought. "You might find you have a green thumb."

Wick inspected his hands blankly. "But my thumbs are green, Miss."

Sarah sighed, picking up a bottle of moisturiser and rubbing some into her hands. "Never mind. And stop calling me Miss, would you? I feel like a school teacher."

Wick's reply was cut short by a rap on the door.

"Are you decent?" came the unmistakable silk of her captor's voice through the door.

"Like you'd care," Sarah grumbled. "God, I don't think I can handle another minute with him." She stood up and was about to gesture for Wick to hide, only to find him already gone. With another grumble she opened the door.

"I'd like to continue the castle tour tomorrow," said the Goblin King without preamble. He was still dressed in his clothes from dinner – black tights and black boots and a crimson coat shredded to feathered pieces. Didn't he ever wear anything normal?

"Would you now?" Sarah replied, barely opening the door wide enough. She had a feeling he would invited himself right on in given the chance.

"I thought it might be time, considering you won't be going anywhere anytime soon."

The thought did nothing to improve her dismal mood. "I wouldn't need a tour if you could keep the rooms where they were supposed to be."

He gave a small inclination of his head. "I will endeavour to behave myself if you do the same, Sarah."

She resisted the urge to slam the door in his face. "I think I'll pass. I can find my own way around."

He smiled condescendingly. "Do you? My castle is not unlike the Labyrinth itself, you should know."

Sarah felt a sudden wave of victory. "And as I recall, I did pretty well with that, didn't I?"

His smile vanished. "Fine. Have it your way. You're obviously accustomed to that." And without any further ado he vanished into thin air.

When Sarah closed the door, grinning with self-satisfaction, she found Wick had reappeared and was shaking his head at her. She had the feeling her bubble was about to burst. "What?"

"With respect, Miss, I think you need to make more of an effort."

"But he's just going to spend the day harassing me until we end up wringing each other's necks again!"

"Only if you let him goad you into it."

She rolled her eyes, but the Elf was right. She did let herself get worked up. It was hard not to, but maybe…maybe if she couldn't stand to try seducing him…she could work him until he snapped and sent her away. Surely that would be enough proof that he wasn't in violation of some old law, that he didn't love her? "Fine. You're right." She went back to the door and opened it, calling into the empty hallway. "Goblin King! I wish to speak with you!" She waited a full minute, feeling foolish, until he appeared before her expectantly.

"I'm sorry. I could probably use some help getting around this place. Thanks."

He raised an eyebrow at her, clearly surprised. "Well then. I'll see you at breakfast, Sarah. Sleep well." His words were not exactly pleasant, and his expression was smug. She frowned at what she might have gotten herself into as he vanished just as quickly as he had appeared.

She turned to Wick, who was stepping back into the mirror. "You happy now?" she asked his retreating form. "Tell the Queen I'm working on it, okay? Tell her I have a plan."

Wick eyed her worriedly, clearly concerned that she was going to cause more trouble, and she felt a twinge of guilt. He was obviously in some kind of servant contract; none of this was his fault. But he'd vanished before she could say anything to reassure him, so she tucked herself into bed and tried to sleep, wondering idly what fresh hell tomorrow would bring.