Chapter Text
Jareth writhed around on the grimy cold stone floor in agony. The iron manacles around his wrists and ankles were slowly draining him of his powers. His skin had a grey, sickly pallor and it was translucent enough to make the network of blue veins visible beneath it. The shirt and pants the Goblin King wore were dirty and tattered. His hands and feet were bare, stripped of his usually ever-present gloves and boots. Pleading voices and anguished screams echoed around him in the darkness. Jareth ignored them, listening instead to the sound of approaching footsteps. The steady pitter-patter of small feet moving ever closer held his attention. It gave him something other than pain to focus on.
The Goblin King heard his not-so-faithful servant calling to the guards. He bristled at the nickname the dwarf gave him. The creature wouldn't be so bold if he wasn't in irons.
"I've brought the rat his food rations and there's a nice bag of cook's best offal for the both of you," Hoggle said, handing a bloody sack to the two guards.
Grimble and Gromble were brothers and Redcaps, which are nasty dwarf-like creatures with glowing eyes, sharp teeth, and a penchant for raw meat. The gruesome pair were tasked with guarding the prisoners in the castle beyond the Goblin City. The dark and dank dungeons housed various ne'er-do-wells, including the likely, soon-to-be-former king.
"Mine," hissed Gromble as he snatched the bloody sack from his brother.
A skirmish of back and forth broke out. Hoggle took the opportunity to scurry away to deliver the tray of stale bread, mouldy cheese, and stagnant water to the royal prisoner.
"Ah, Higgle," Jareth rasped through clenched teeth. "What a sad state of affairs it is when I find myself happy to see you." His cold iron restraints made it an enormous effort for him to sit upright but he was determined.
"It ain't as if I wants to be here," Hoggle said, letting out a wistful sigh. "I was perfectly content to be a coward. Happy to keep my head down and out of trouble. And then, ten years ago, I went and met Sarah."
The ailing Goblin King's temper stirred at the mention of his former nemesis.
"That green eyed monster with her rebelliousness, turning my world upside down," he snarled. Jareth's anger had the effect of making his waning magic flare. White speckled owl feathers sprouted randomly out of his pale skin and then quickly disappeared again.
Hoggle was more than a little disturbed by the king's outburst but he pressed on. "The High Council wants to know who you've got to speak in your defence. Since we can't find the one individual who might be able to get you out of this mess, you needs some character witnesses. How about a certain someone who chose to solve the Labyrinth and won?" he suggested.
Jareth slumped back against the dank slimy dungeon wall, his fluctuating powers further drained. "She wouldn't come back," his voice was little more than a whisper, "not to help me."
The little dwarf set down his tray and made sure Grimble and Gromble were still busy fighting. "Well, pardon me for saying so, your Majesty, but you ain't exactly got many other options and time is short," he crowed.
"And so are you," the Goblin King jibed, his wit not yet lost.
Hoggle ignored the insult because, despite everything, he was still the bigger man. "I ain't promising nothing. It's been a few years since I last saw Sarah. But if I can convince her to come back and help you, I will. She's the only mortal who remembers her time in the Labyrinth, being as she's the only one who ever beat you."
Jareth grimaced, partly with pain, but mostly with resentment at the prospect of being indebted to his mortal enemy. "I'm touched, Hoggett, truly I am, that you would be prepared to go to such lengths for me. Oh, I know, I'm technically still your king, but I would have thought you'd be on the side of the revolting masses," he sneered.
Hoggle threw his hands up in exasperation. "Believes me, if Lord Grimbald wasn't an even bigger rat than you, I would be!" He noticed the Redcaps had quietened down, thus signalling it was time for him to leave. "I gots to go now, so wish me luck." The little dwarf set off on his mission.
Jareth reached for the tankard of water on the tray with shaky hands. His mouth was dry, and he took a few sips, trying not to spill any of the precious liquid. He held the cup aloft in a mock toast. "Yes, good luck, Hoggle. If I ever get out of here, you'll need it."
"Destiny Longchamps?"
Sarah kept on walking, wishing she'd at least put her sunglasses on. She had decided on impulse to walk the short distance from her apartment building to work. It was a warm sunny day and she needed to clear her head. Unfortunately, her status as a well-known television celebrity often made the mundane things in life impossible.
The hefty middle-aged woman pursuing her was persistent. "I watch Holland Avenue all the time. It's my absolute favourite daytime soap and you're my favourite character. I can't wait to see Destiny and Dax's wedding. Dirk Evans is such a hunk, isn't he?" she swooned. "Will you sign a few things for me, please?"
The enthusiastic fan thrust a copy of TV Guide under Sarah's nose. She forced a smile as she glanced at the image of herself on the magazine cover. "I'm sorry, I don't have a pen," she said, determined to make her escape.
The woman refused to be shaken off. "I've got one," she said, thrusting a sharpie into her hand.
Sarah reluctantly took the magazine and scribbled her autograph on it as a small group of onlookers began to gather around. The fans continued to chatter to her and each other, oblivious to her desire to hail a taxi and be gone. After signing a few more things, Sarah finally managed to break free of her adoring public and headed towards the television studios.
She had once dreamed of being the object of such attention, but not anymore. Acting wasn't all she hoped it would be. Or, more precisely, the part she'd been playing for the last six years wasn't. When Sarah won the role of Destiny Longchamps in the long running soap opera Holland Avenue she saw it as the start of a glittering Hollywood career. Now, it felt like the end. There were only so many ways her character could cheat death, and fall in and out of love. It was acting by numbers and her attempts to find more challenging roles were floundering. Sarah often got told she looked right for a part but that she didn't have the necessary range for it. The one time she had the chance to do Shakespeare on stage, it was a disaster. She kept forgetting her lines and her acting had more ham in it than a pig farm.
"What's the matter, princess? You look like you lost a dollar and found a dime."
Sarah found her co-star and fiancé, Dirk Evans, waiting for her outside her dressing room at the television studios. She stiffened slightly as he moved in to kiss her. He wasn't her type at all with his square-jaw, hazel-eyes, and expertly coiffed short brown hair. Sarah knew she definitely wasn't to his tastes. Her resolve to break off their engagement kept wavering, but only because so much had already been invested in their relationship. She never should have let it go on for so long or agreed to their arrangement in the first place. It was too late to back out now.
Destiny Longchamps and Dax Evergood were scheduled to tie-the-knot in a live television event. Sarah and Dirk were supposed to get married in a private ceremony directly afterwards. Of course, the paparazzi had been tipped off, so it wasn't going to be private at all. The whole thing was a publicity stunt, cooked up by their mutual agent to help their careers. Dirk wanted to break into movies but he knew his sexual orientation would hinder him, should it ever become common knowledge. The studio loved the column inches Sarah and Dirk's relationship generated for the show, with their onscreen characters already being romantically involved. Magazine covers and tabloid spreads were just the start. Sarah realised the whole thing had spiralled out of her control. She had been in show business long enough to know that acting didn't stop at the stage door. But she never regarded herself as cynical enough to marry a man she didn't love to boost her profile.
Sarah turned on her best fake smile. "Oh, it's just nerves, I guess," she said, dismissing Dirk's concerns as they headed into makeup.
New episodes of Holland Avenue were usually taped a couple of weeks in advance. Most of the scenes had been shot already but Destiny and Dax's wedding ceremony was going to be broadcast live. The scripts were often prone to last minute revisions and the addition of new pages was a regular occurrence but the wedding ceremony remained unchanged. The cast even had the chance to perform rare rehearsals. According to the call sheet, there were a few post-vows scenes that required additional shooting but it was all par of the course on a busy soap opera set.
Sarah first began to suspect all was not as it should be when she got out of makeup. Harry the director, one of the writers, possibly Jack or Jim, she wasn't sure, and Rex Saltzman, the producer, were huddled together in a corner. She could hear they were having an animated discussion in hushed voices.
"She's not gonna like it," Jack or Jim, the writer, argued.
"Think of the ratings," Rex, the producer, counted.
"I'll have a ton of editing to do, and we'll need to do a few reshoots, but we can make this work," Harry, the director, sounded gleeful.
Her agent Bernie La Rue and Dirk were deep in conversation on the far side of the studio. Neither of them showed any sign of having seen her and so Sarah edged closer to eavesdrop on them. She managed to conceal herself behind a part of the scenery.
"Don't worry, darling, we've worked it all out," their agent, Bernie, assured Dirk. "You will have to do a few reshoots to cover the storyline changes. But they're willing to be flexible with your schedule if you get a definite offer on that movie role."
"Sarah's already got cold feet. There's no way she'll go through with the wedding after this," Dirk argued.
Bernie laughed. "Of course, she will. What else is she going to do? Honestly, darling, it's better this way. Sarah will be adequately compensated as per the terms of her contract. And if she doesn't play ball, I'll make sure her name is dirt in this town. She'll never work in the industry again."
Dirk shrugged, it was clear he couldn't care less. "As long as I'm not the one who has to tell her she's being killed off by a falling ice sculpture on her wedding day, I'll leave the small print to you."
Sarah felt hot tears stinging at her eyes, she hated them all. It was a stupid show and she'd grown to despise it, but she wanted to be the one to walk away on her terms. This was the final insult after all the awful wooden scenes they made her perform and the lines of dialogue they'd fed her that were riper than Camembert. As for Dirk, there was no way she could go through with marrying him for real now. Let Bernie do her worst. Sarah would play out the fake wedding, death scene and all. But she would have her revenge, somehow.
Hoggle decided he would travel faster without the lumbering presence of Ludo or the well-intentioned, but blustering, Sir Didymus. He informed them of his plan, in case anything went awry, but there was no more time to lose. He set off towards the secret room. Lord Grimbald was forbidden from taking up residence in the castle until he was officially proclaimed as the next Goblin King. His claim to the title had yet to prove successful but it didn't stop him from snooping around.
However, Hoggle was confident Grimbald hadn't uncovered the secret room. It was a hidden chamber that held all the rare curiosities Jareth had collected over the years. Amongst them was a magic mirror. It could locate anyone, anywhere in the mortal realm and also be used as a means of transportation. The Goblin King rarely used it, his own powers gave him alternative means of achieving the same goals. It was a valuable item all the same, and Jareth liked to have things others coveted.
The little dwarf found the hidden door, helped by the fact he knew where to look.
"What is the magic word?" a disembodied voice demanded when he tried to enter the secret room. The invisible barrier could not be penetrated without it and Hoggle hopped around in dismay. "Why didn't that stupid rat tell me about this?" he grumbled before testing out various words in hopes of finding the right one.
"Um, bog,?" Nothing happened. "Stench?" Still nothing. "Goblin, gnome, chicken, peach, pants, bulge, oubliette, owl?" The door remained stubbornly locked. "Oh, I don't know," Hoggle cried out in frustration. "How in the fiery blazes am I supposed to get to Sarah?"
"What's said is said," Jareth's voice echoed out around him as the invisible shield was lifted.
Hoggle jumped, glancing around him until he realised it was all part of the magic and that the Goblin King was still locked up in the dungeons. He should have guessed her name would be the magic word needed to break the spell. The door swung open and he rushed inside to find the mirror. There was something the right shape for what he was looking for underneath a dusty red velvet drape. Hoggle grabbed the corner and pulled, sending a cloud of white specks into the already musty air. The mirror was dull from lack of use and he used his handkerchief to give it a quick polish.
"This better work," he muttered as he shined up the surface. "Find Sarah Williams, Victrix ludorum of the Labyrinth," Hoggle demanded.
The little dwarf's reflection began to swirl and melt away and another image formed in the glass. A beautiful young woman was wiping streaky mascara trails from beneath her eyes.
"The ice crushed me, Dax," she sobbed. "Those have to be the dumbest, lamest last words anyone has ever uttered in the history of soap operas, and that's up against some pretty stiff competition."
"Sarah?"
It took her a moment to realise the mirror was talking to her. "Hoggle?" she gasped.
"Well, ain't you a sight for sore eyes?" he teased.
Sarah was wearing a hideous meringue of a wedding dress, all unnecessary frills and cheap lace. "Oh, Hoggle, is it really you?" she smiled through her tears.
"At least you remembers who I am. I did wonder if you'd forgotten all about me," the little dwarf said, piling on the guilt, and then feeling bad about it because she was already upset.
Sarah blushed crimson and started bawling again. "I could never forget you, or Ludo, or Sir Didymus, and even J- the Goblin King." She plucked a fresh tissue from her Kleenex box to blow her nose. "Oh, Hoggle, I've got myself into the most awful mess," she wailed.
"Well, that makes two of us, or should I say five of us. I mean you, me, Ludo, Sir Didymus and that rat, Jareth." The dwarf realised he was rambling on and he dragged himself back to the point of his call. "Anyway, the long and err, mostly short of it, is that we need your help," he explained, poorly.
Sarah dabbed at her eyes, her career was in tatters and she was about to do something very rash. Things could scarcely get much worse, and yet, she had a feeling they were about too.