Thanks for your patience, and thank you for the visits! Here's more Hoggle-Sarah time, and what Dwarf Town would be like in my imagination. Thanks!

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The king excused himself. The goblins cleared his plate. Sarah looked down at her brown porridge and instantly regretted it; the squoddle fruit tentacles still twitched in the gloopy-gloppy oatmeal, like worms in mud. She gulped and stared straight ahead, taking another tentative bite; it was delicious. Goblin food wasn't so bad as long as you didn't look at it.

She pushed away from the table, and in an instant, a brigade of goblins were upon her helping her with the chair, swiping her napkins away, and clearing her place.

"What can we do for you, miss?" asked Ziva.

"You know, you guys don't need to look after me so much. I'm happy to help clear the table."

"Nonsense!" cried Ziva.

"You're the first guest in a loooong time, miss," said the butler from before.

"Yes," added Ziva. "Look, Mr. Stokes here even combed his hair!"

"That I did!" guffawed Stokes. He placed a finger on his bulbous nose and gave her a wink before carrying away a platter. The surrounding goblins were all nodding and smiling in agreement. Sarah looked around at the crowd of fangs, bat wings, boils and scales. She supposed this was a lot like playing a game for the little beasts. A change of pace and scenery, like playing dress-up.

"Well, thank you. I really appreciate it." Hey, if the goblins wanted to play into her secret princess fantasy, she'd let them—and enjoy it at that. "I…I really don't know what I'm going to do next," realized Sarah. She should be pouring through books. Did the Labyrinth have history books? Otherwise she had no clue how to figure out her escape. If there were no other Fae or humanoid people of any kind, who could they turn to for help?

Sarah knew she should hunker down and make a plan. She should prioritize her return home. She should focus on the Aboveground, not castles and dresses and goblins.

But all she wanted to do was find her friends.

There was an audience of wide, staring eyes watching her expectantly. Regardless of what Sarah did, she couldn't keep her goblin friends waiting.

"I'm going to find Hoggle." Problem was, she had no clue where to find him. And if she went to the beginning of the Labyrinth, she'd start her run, and the countdown would begin.

"Can you…can maybe someone find him for me?"

Without a word, Ziva turned to the other goblins and clapped. A handful of them scurried off like a scared group of mice. Some of them disappeared through the doors, while two slipped through the wall via a sliding panel. One even climbed under a floorboard, his long black nails clacking along the wood.

"Oooookay… thank you," Sarah said, a bit confused.

She retired to her room. When she sunk into a library chair, she drew her knees up to her chin and squeezed herself into a little ball. The shininess of being back in the Labyrinth was fading as she realized just how alone she was. Just how trapped.

"Can't focus on that now, can I?" she asked herself out loud, jumping out of the chair. She grabbed a book she thought was a pretty color and plopped back into her chair.

A story of Arthurian proportions unfolded before her. She was there, beside a knight and his squire on their journey, breathing in the earthy scent of a wheat field, when a knock came at the door. She jumped, startled, but giggled at herself and made her way to the door.

"Hoggle!" she cried. She knelt and threw her arms around the dwarf's neck. "Come in, come in! Ziva, can we please get some tea?" she called down the hall.

"Oh gorsh, Sarah, you don't have to do that for me. And I don't want to be taking nothing from Jareth," he harrumphed.

"Well, I want tea, you don't have to join."

"Sitting pretty up here in the castle like a right princess, aren't you?" he grumbled.

"Hoggle! I know you don't like Jareth—for good reason—but you don't have to take it out on me."

The old dwarf sighed. "I'm sorry, Sarah. I'm just frustrated is all. Forgive me? I promise not to be so grumpy anymore." He looked up at her with wide eyes and a sheepish smile.

"Of course, you're my friend," she smiled. Hoggle gave her hand a squeeze and held it as they walked to the pit of cushions.

Sarah told him the good news and the bad news, how the countdown wouldn't start until she began her run. How Jareth said he would help her find a way home. And, the loss the Labyrinth had recently experienced.

"Man, I never liked that old hat of his, but it's hard to imagine the Wiseman as gone. He seemed so eternal. But I already figured there'd be more gone than just a couple of sheep."

"What do you mean?" asked Sarah. Jareth hadn't said anything about sheep.

"Oh just some sheep from the largest paddock in Dwarf Town."

"Dwarf Town?!"

"Yeesh!" cried Hoggle, sticking a finger in his ear and wiggling it around. "You don't need to yell."

"Sorry," blushed Sarah. "It's just, I didn't realize there were more of you."

"There's not more of me. There's just more dwarves. Though not as many as the goblins."

"Why didn't you ever say anything about it before?"

"Well, you never asked. And I didn't think it was that important." He sipped his tea.

"I'd love to visit," Sarah said, hoping the "now" was implied.

"Well sure, I guess. Just know that I'm not that…popular."

"Oh Hoggle," Sarah smiled, "I'm sure they like you just as much as they like any other dwarf. Hoggle stared at his feet and took another silent sip. He didn't budge.

"So…if I don't have to go through the Labyrinth to get there, why don't we head there now?" Sarah suggested.

Hoggle seemed to deflate as a long, tired sigh fizzled out of him. Sarah thought it was kinda weird the dwarf would be resigned to go, well, "home," but she didn't want to push. Hoggle hopped to his feet and grumbled his way to the door. Sarah scurried behind, forgetting how fast the dwarf was despite his little legs.

"Now," said Hoggle as their footsteps echoed down the corridor. "If we take a shortcut, that might count as startin' your run, though it's not like you'd be startin' at the beginning or anything like that. Still, best not to mess with magic. So we'll have to go through the whole castle and out the courtyard."

Hoggle took a right and a left and went down a staircase and…

"Hmm…" he said. "You know, I know the Labyrinth like the back of my hand. The Castle at the Center of the Labyrinth…not so much."

"Here," said Sarah. "Let me. I know the way."

"You do?" asked Hoggle, furrowing his already furrowed brow even further into a knot of wrinkles. "How?"

"I…I just do, somehow. That's all. You want to go out the back, right, not the front?"

"Ya, but how did you…" Hoggle didn't finish his question. He stared at her with narrowed eyes and a puzzled purse of his lips, but at the end of the day, he knew there was no use asking about things to which the answer was one simple word.

Magic.

Sara led the way and took them through the first corridor on the right and down a winding spiral staircase that deposited into a sort of receiving room.

"Ah, here's what we need," affirmed Hoggle.

"Can't be right all the time," quoted Sarah with a chuckle. Hoggle smiled and gave her hand a squeeze.

Hoggle took a breath and squared his shoulders, as if he were bracing himself for a storm. With a decisive nod he strode to and through the door as it swung open by its own accord. Sara followed tentatively. Were they really getting themselves into something they should be worried about?

Like the front of the castle, the back also had a courtyard to separate itself from the Goblin City. However, through the courtyard gates, another kind of city lay.

Sarah had to bite her tongue to keep her jaw from dropping in wonder; Dwarf Town was a rainbow of excitement. This section of city was much more compact than the Goblin city she knew, the pathways and streets were much more narrow, but there were also more inhabitants bustling around than there were in the Goblin City. The buildings were colorful and artfully decorated, some with mosaics and some with murals. Dwarves of all race and dress hobbled and strutted about. Some selling wares, but most just plunged on determinedly, as if they each had a goal of great importance and little time. Like Hoggle, they all seemed to be gnarled, with weathered skin and wrinkled brows regardless of age. One dwarf with ebony skin greeted them cheerfully.

"Hello there, mister Hoggle!" Hoggle gave a short nod. As they passed through the crowds, a lady dwarf called out to them.

"Good morning, Hoggle! Fine day, is it not?" Hoggle grumbled. Sarah raised an inquisitive brow. As Hoggle took her past multicolored storefronts and aromatic pubs, several more greetings were given—and ignored.

"I thought you said I was your only friend, Hoggle?" Sarah said with some confusion as they passed a periwinkle potter's shop.

"Not true," Hoggle said. "It's you, and Didymus, and Ludo."

"But everyone here seems so happy to see you."

"Bah!" If there was more to this story, and Sarah knew there was, Hoggle wasn't saying. But, she wouldn't push him; there were too many distractions, too much to be seen and smelled and tasted. Sarah was still munching on a sample of fresh bread from a bakery they'd passed a ways back. In no time at all, they'd walked the town's entire length, made their way down its width, and were now working their way back through again.

"We'll have traversed the whole circumference when we get back. I suppose it'll be too early for lunch, but whad'ya say we get a snack and something to drink?" suggested Hoggle.

"That sounds marvelous," said Sarah, her gaze high up in the rooftops above them; each painted building was so unique, so artistic. From what Sarah could see, the dwarves were truly craftsmen and women, people of trades and the practical arts. Sarah had made mental notes of things she'd like to buy whenever she got the chance to return home and pick up some money to bring back with her—though, she'd have to trade it for whatever the local currency happened to be.

Not far from the castle, they stopped at a cozy bakery. The man and woman who ran the bakery had their baby in a high chair behind the shop counter, who they attended to between their runs to and from customers.

"Three honey buns for the lady, and a braid for me with a mug of ale," grunted Hoggle.

"Come on now, Hogg, you know we don't serve ale here," chuckled the dwarf father, patting Hoggle on the back. Hoggle just grunted.

"If you'd been here since junior's been born, you'da known that," sang the dwarf mother as she swept by with a tray of fresh pies. Hoggle grunted again.

"What's with you, Hoggle? All these people act like they know you, but you act like you don't know them." Sarah half whispered, not wanting the surrounding tables of customers to hear.

"So what?" he shrugged. Sarah waited for a response. Hoggle remained tight-lipped. Sarah crossed her arms. Hoggle accepted the challenge and leaned back in his chair. Sarah cocked an eyebrow. The tension built between them playfully until a crescendo of silence culminate in Hoggle giving an exasperated huff and rapped his fists on the table top. "Hoggle is Hoggle's friend! I don't fit in here, I prefer to keeps to meself anyway. I don't need no friends…or…" Hoggle looked up at Sarah and blushed. "I thought I didn't. But I stand by what I said when it comes to dwarf-kind. I'm fine by meself."

"But everyone seems to love you, Hoggle. It's a really welcoming town."

"Ya, it is. If you fit in. If you feel like a dwarf. I just…I don't know. I just feel awkward, I says the wrong things, I like being alone, I don't want to end the day with mugs of ale and tens of friends. I like my cottage, I like my tea. I like the gardens, and twitchin' fairies and whatnots. I'm not sayin' I wouldn't enjoy keeping company with a dwarf or two, I just… I feel out of place. Not good enough. As if they was all just laughing at me behind my back." Hoggle's gaze fell to the floor. Sarah swore his eyes looked misty, and his shoulders slumped in a defeat.

"Hoggle, no one is laughing at you. If you'd just give people a chance, you'd see there's more good than bad. You can be an introvert and you can be solitary, but you can also find friendship within your kin and countrymen." Sarah reached out and laid her hand on top of Hoggle's. It was rough and gnarled under her own soft skin. The trembling of his fingers stilled as she wrapped her hand around his. The dwarf looked so lost. "Everything in your own time," Sarah soothed. "And you've always got me, Ludo, and Sir Didymus."

"Ya, I know," he smiled sadly. Sarah had been so happy to be Hoggle's first friend, but she didn't know that he had already had a home with other dwarves—or that he at least had a complicated relationship with the townfolk. Sarah knew Hoggle could fit in just fine if he would only give them all a chance.

The baker came by and set three sticky looking buns in front of her and a braided loaf of bread in front of Hoggle. Steam snaked out from the spout of the jade teapot the baker set on the table. The matching jade mugs were likewise polished to perfection. "On the house," the baker said cheerfully.

Sarah looked at the baker, looked at Hoggle, looked back at the baker, and back at Hoggle.

"…thank you," Sarah finally said, smiling at the baker. The baker smiled warmly back, apparently unaware of Hoggle's lack of gratitude. "Hoggle," Sarah half whispered, an edge of annoyance sharp on her tongue. She calmed herself. "Why don't you start with the bakers. They seem like nice people, the food looks, well, good enough to eat, and he gifted us tea. It all deserves at least a hint of acknowledgement, don't you think?" Hoggle fidgeted.

"Thank you!" he called abruptly; Sarah nearly jumped. The baker turned back around, already halfway to the shop counter.

"You're welcome," the baker said back, puzzled. But, he smiled and disappeared behind the counter and into the kitchen after kissing the baby on the head.

Sarah giggled awkwardly. "Well, that's certainly a start." Hoggle blushed. She poured them both tea and toasted her mug high. "To friendship."

"Oh—garsh—d'oh, to friendship." Hoggle sputtered at Sarah's brazen affection, but didn't back down. Their mugs clinked and they sipped the tasty, aromatic drink that warmed Sarah from the inside.

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"I still can't help but think we should be doing something."

"Ya, but what can we do?" asked Sarah. Hoggle noted the hint of exasperation.

"I just mean I feel kinda bad. I want to help you, but I don't know how. I can't help but feel guilty enjoying my time with you," said Hoggle as they walked back through the town's streets.

"Oh Hoggle, I know what you mean. I don't want to admit it, but, I'm really having a good time. I know I should be using every second to figure out my way back Aboveground, but I don't even know where to start, and running the Labyrinth again might not work out so well for me."

"Ah, you could do it." Hoggle kicked at the ground. "I know you could, it's just dangerous s'all. No one's ever run twice before."

The conversation dissolved into pensive silence. Their thoughts flitted through the air like wayward butterflies.

"With the wiseman gone, who else is old enough and has seen enough to help us out? Jareth says there aren't any goblins older than he can remember."

"I don't know. Mamma Olma is pretty old."

"Who's that?"

"Oh, just an old dwarf; she's kinda a matriarch in the community."

"Are dwarves immortal?" Sarah's heart beat faster as a possible answer to her question approached.

"No, no they're not. But we do live longer than goblins. Generally."

"Hoggle!" squealed Sarah. "Why didn't you say something? I guess it doesn't necessarily need to be a goblin that helps us out."

"Ya, I don't know why I didn't think of that. Honestly, it doesn't necessarily need to be a goblin older than Jareth either. 'Old enough' isn't the same as 'older than,' but it's something."

"Do you think she'd mind if we swung by? Could we drop in for a visit now?"

"I don't see why not," shrugged Hoggle. He made an abrupt turn to the right, and Sarah nearly broke an ankle trying to about-face and follow him. They rounded a corner and headed towards the city center. The narrow streets eventually opened up into a small yet well-kept park. The park benches were bare except one, a mossy, weather-worn bench on the far side of the clearing. What looked like a pile of old laundry was heaped comfortably on the bench—or rather, sitting comfortably. As they approached, Sarah noticed a nose sticking out of the layers. The nose was followed by a hand that struck out to throw what looked like bread crumbs to a flock of creatures. When the pair was finally standing next to the assumed Mamma Olma, Sarah noticed the flock of birds wasn't really "birds" in the clerical sense… but they did have wings.

"The skvader are extra restless today," a voice rattled from the pile, creaking like an old oak bending in the wind. The little creatures that nibbled up the bread crumbs had wings like a brown hawk, or perhaps an owl or some sort of wild game bird, but the body, head, and legs of a hare. One leapt forward to hog the small pile of crumbs that had fallen in front of Alma. If you didn't look closely, you could convince yourself it was a normal hare, with its long ears and dusty gray-brown fur. Sarah couldn't help but smile.

"Mamma Olma, my name is Hoggle. This here is Sarah."

"I know who you are, Hoggle. And I know who you are, Sarah; it's nice to make your acquaintance." The nose turned towards them, but Sarah couldn't make out any eyes under the veils and hats piled high on her head.

"I'm pleased to meet you, too," said Sarah with a bow of her head. "Mamma Olma, I'm afraid the last time I was here, I ran fair and square, but Jareth played around with magic and stressed the Labyrinth to the point of breaking—not that he'd do that intentionally," she added. Hoggle scowled. "It's just, I wished myself away again—not because I wanted to, I just did it to save the Labyrinth. What I'm getting at is…" Sarah realize she had begun to ramble, "I want to get home, and I don't want to run the Labyrinth; can you help me?"

"You said the words 'I wish,' did you not?" asked Olma.

"Yes, I did…but—"

"And the king answered your call, did he not?"

"He did. Duty, and granted me certain powers and all that. But—"

"Then I'm afraid I can be of no help to you," she creaked.

"Please!" cried Sarah.

"Oh, Mamma Olma, can't you just think of something? You've been around longer than anyone, almost as long as Jareth they say. Can't you think of something?" begged Hoggle.

"Well, I suppose I could at least think about it. I've seen so many runners come and go, you know. If I just had a nice sit-down with my pipe, I'm sure I could reminisce, and maybe something in my memory would click. The rules of the Labyrinth are very strict though…" the old dwarf turned away as if she was thinking about something.

"What, what is it?" Hoggle balled up his fists and brought them under his chin, leaning in eagerly to see what his elder had to say.

"Oh, nothing. Nothing at all. Just thinking…" The old dwarf threw out another handful of crumbs to the skvader.

"Well, thank you Mamma Olma," said Sarah, grateful for any crumb, pun intended, that the dwarf threw her way. "We really appreciate it. Let us know if you think of anything, and we'll be sure to visit again either way."

"Will do, my dear, will do," said Olma thoughtfully. Sarah and Hoggle disappeared behind a wall outside of the park, and Mamma Olma lifted the slouchy material that covered her eyes to look after their departure. Her voice croaked out in barely a whisper.

"The solution is quite simple, actually…

"unfortunately, it's not easy."