Remember, remember, the first of November. No, hang on, that's something else, on a different day, and it ends in fire or failure, neither of which is the Goblin King's goal. Quite the contrary, he has spent no small effort to recall those guests who put in an appearance at the last of his gatherings, and has crafted a delightfully haunting forest ( Read more... )

Morning found Jareth stretching at his leisure, toying with the idea of fully waking. And, if his companion were still with him, his stretches would give her a view to enjoy, as well. The lack of appreciation tells him he is alone, however, so he wakes ( Read more... )

Jareth has not been idle since Ali's last visit, nor were some of her plaints wiped from his mind. The crystals he conjured were insufficient to the task at hand, and he could not simply pluck larger from nothing. He would need to actually dirty his hands (or, more likely, the goblins' hands) in actual labor to make something larger ( Read more... )

Ali has, over the course of their relationship, gone to great lengths to impress upon Jareth the degree to which she cherishes her privacy, the sanctity that her home, and by extension her whole world, represent. It is not a border to violate lightly ( Read more... )

Jareth teetered somewhere near madness, at a juncture of fatigue and frustration. Encouraged by their breakfasting efforts, the goblins had continued their sudden proactive stance ( Read more... )

The day dawned bright and early--a surprise in itself, to the Labyrinth's residents. The goblin king spurred his subjects into unaccustomed activity, bewildering his land's other residents with banners and streamers being hung in every hall ( Read more... )

Jareth fretted, he paced, he scried, and fretted still more. Even kicking goblins into the chandelier couldn't rouse his spirits. All of this "being patient" business was going to drive him to distraction. When would she come to him again? She slipped away to visit her family easily enough. Had she forgotten him? Would he need to remind her? His ( Read more... )

That first crystal Jareth gave to Ali, some time ago now, is still--in his mind--a reliable means of contacting her. She has placed such prohibitions on entering her world, after all, and yet of her own volition she brought something into her world through which he can speak. The only challenge lies in drawing her attention to it, which he does now ( Read more... )

Morning Court in the castle beyond the Labyrinth tends to be a crowded affair; goblins milling, lounging, occasionally harassing the black chickens, while their monarch waits for something to happen, inspiration to strike, or the soundtrack to hit a song. This morning seems at first to be little different, but as Jareth watches the barely- ( Read more... )

Lounging at ease in his throne room, Jareth waits for his favorite guest to arrive, gloating to himself over the thanks that is surely coming. After all, he's shown that he can do wonderful things for her beloved children without endangering them--without even making them come to adore or depend on him (the former of which he's sure they will, when ( Read more... )