Jareth never wanted this particcular story to see the light of day. I wrote it after a Goblin Guru related it to me over a few drinks at the Sunset City Plaza Tavern. I don't know if it is true or not but either way it is a fascinating piece of Goblin folklore and it is sure to embarrass the daylights out of a particular stuffy old Goblin King ;) so here it goes...

A walking effigy. It stumbles and stutters in stride down the dimly lit stone path, the high walls that surround it are crumbling under times heavy hour hand. It seems to stop and falter, the reed thin form falls silently into a heap.

A sigh, or mutter bounces like a ghost down the corridor. A Long, white hand brushes gently the grey wisp of hair from the eyes. Such eyes are these. Like stolen gems from heaven's throne.

They shine no less in this desperate hour.

A clattering sound of metal boots brings life back to the frail fallen one and with grace and blinding speed it springs to a predators posture and with a flash the hand holds steady a sterling blade.

The footsteps cease and at the end of the path at the corridors bend stands a silouhette of small stature but imposing girth. It bears a long and finely pointed spear. It speaks with a commanding in-human bark, a sharpness to the tongue which makes its words ring with all the more bitterness.

"Come now, O' King...why have you forsaken us?"

They come for him often. Every so many days and another tracker finds him. This one looks like a warrior. This one may be the one who takes him. He is weary...weak. Action answers the question at hand and like lightning the silver blade sings from his grip. The silouhette dives from the shadows and evades its murderous point. It lodges with a bright blue spark into the stone wall behind him.

The Goblin casts a quick glance over his shoulder and eyes the dagger, then with squinted red eyes and a desperate battlecry charges the distance to his prey.

At the last moment the Goblin averts the spear tip from its target's chest and instead crashes brutally into the the gaunt and tattered figure.

Too tired to move the weight of his assailent bears down on him and together they fall to the ground.

"Surrender My Liege! Fight no more!"

The Goblin rests atop the man now, his long and distorted face pressed nose to nose in sharp contrast with the pale fey man beneath him.

A feral and determined scream howls forth from the pinned man and with unexpected strength he rears back his neck and slams his aristocratic forehead into the face of his Goblin opponent.

A cry of pain as the Goblin rolls off of him brings a sadistic smile to the mouth of the thin man.

"Will you never learn, my foul children! I am not your captive any longer." He spits these words more than speaks them as he struggles back to his feet.

"Why M'lord? Why do you trouble us so?!"

The voice of the goblin is more than hinted with pleading sorrow.

"My pain is such that you can never comprehend. You are blessed by the Gods with a beligerant ignorance... I am not so fortunate. Take up your spear warrior, and go back to the castle in the Goblin city at the center of this accursed Labyrinth and tell the assembly to leave me with my thoughts!"

The Goblin sat up now with his back to the wall and between his fingers stretched out across his face trailed bright streams of red blood.

"Lord Jareth, the counsel claims you have gone insane, that you are possessed of Fairy maddness! We have sought you for weeks, searching every corridor and opening each and every oubliette along the way. Our seers have pronounced you dead time and time again yet still we search. Ever hopeful, ever hopeful..."

"I am not your King and your Seers speak truth. The darkness of the oubliette's pale against the sorrow of my heart. I am befouled with want and worry. Your King has fallen under the heavy words of true love's loss. Leave me to my funeral march. I am not the one that once was."

The Goblin stood shakily now... he gathered up his spear and looked at what his King had become.

His body looked of fine bones wrapped tightly in bleached, white leather. His once golden mane hung ripped and torn, grey and matted to his head. His fine silken clothing tattered, stained and dirty.

"How can this be my Lord? With all the beauties and maidens who pine for you? With all the hearts which lie in wait to be filled by your passing smile and grace? With all the volumes of poetry and songs written for your splendor... how can this be that you walk with wounded heart? "

The soiled and wretched king crossed his arms across his chest and looked down from the face of the Goblin. Several strands of hair blew gently in a passing breeze. There was a moment of silence.

"I have cast a thousand eyes across every kingdom and stolen the visage of all that cries finest beauty and in doing so I have seen that only that which we cannot have compels the heart to it's crescendo. I have tasted the poison of love unrequited and find that I am terminally addicted to it's throes."

The Goblin seemed stunned by his response and stood rigidly upright he chose his words carfully and uttered them in a broken and unsure cadence.

"Lord... Perhaps your compulsion is not lost in desperate yearning but rather fueled by a stronger demon... The demon of hope against hope..."

The King turned on his heels and placed a contemplative hand to his chin..."Hope?... Whatever do you mean?"

"Hope M'lord. Hope that all is not said and done but that perhaps tommorow will sweep yesterday into today and will carry with it your heart's desire. Hope that pain will fall to bliss and that the sweet taste of memories will be replaced by the urgent feast of the Now. Hope against Hope M'lord. All that this addiction requires is tommorow. The very same tommorrow which you shake your fist in defiance of. The very same tommorrow which may break your morbid spell. "

The goblin king smiled faintly and put his hand to the Goblin's shoulder... "Let us go then... back to the castle, after all, there are seers to commit to the Bog of Eternal Stench for false prophecy, hairdressers, and tailors, and a feast in waiting for my return... Hopefully."

The two figures strolled off and as the footsteps faded a young girl named Sarah awoke to find a snow white owl perched upon the tree outside her window... as she rubbed her eyes in disbelief, the owl dissapeared as though it were never there.