Disclaimer: I do not own Labyrinth or its characters. Life can be so cruel.

It's Only Forever

Chapter Eight

The woman stared daggers at the long channel of stone before her and continued walking, having not much else to do otherwise. She was still in the Labyrinth's outer rim much to her chagrin. Although Evelyn knew realistically something couldn't just stretch on forever, it was doing just that with surprising enthusiasm. Bloody walls. Bloody Labyrinth.

"Bugger it all."

Her headache hadn't subsided despite the fact she'd spent damn near an hour relaxing in her slow gait about this frustrating passageway. She wasn't sure how far she'd gotten at all, actually, since, well, every inch of brick looked the bloody same. For all she knew she'd been repeating the same stretch of labyrinth over and over. Damn. Damn, damn, damn. Somewhere she knew Jareth was cackling at her, the prat. Gloating over his victory.

"'allo?" A small voice interrupted casually.

It had come from the vicinity of her feet. Evey glanced down in surprise and locked eyes onto a strange worm fellow with blue hair done up in three sections about its face. He waited patiently for her to come around and smiled in a peculiar way once she had. He looked suspiciously like a reject from the set of Beetlejuice. It was quite jarring.

"Ugh," she winced instinctively at its bloated face, slightly perturbed.

Considering it was the first and only thing she'd come across in this dreadful row of bricks, the woman checked herself and put on a friendly face. Sort of. It really shouldn't have surprised her that a worm could be talking but, well, here it was. "Oh, hello…uh…"

"You lost? Say, you look like someone I met before. Long time ago, probably unrelated."

Evey sighed like a woman gone rather mad. "Don't suppose you know the way through the labyrinth, do you?"

"Nah, I'm just a worm. Say! I remember now, yes. That girl, the one from before, she asked me somethin' similar way back when. It's been, oh let me think now…"

Well, it was worth a shot.

"Yes, right. Good enough," The woman said quickly. "Would you know how to breach the wall at least? Only I've been walking down this same path forever and wouldn't mind a change of scenery."

The worm frowned up at her, rather lost in thought. His red eyes blinked. "Wot? Oh, well, that one's easy. There's openings all over the place, there are. Why, there's one right in front of you now in fact."

Evelyn stared dubiously towards the section of wall he'd indicated. She turned a look upon the worm and said, flatly, "There is?"

"Aye, there is indeed. It's right in front of you. You're just not lookin' right."

"Right there?"

"That's wot I've been sayin'! Say, come inside and 'ave some tea. The missus put a kettle on not too long ago."

The woman wandered slowly to the wall and frowned back at the worm, giving him an opportunity to reveal the joke. He was all helpful smiles. Evelyn glowered and examined the very real set of bricks before her. It was just a wall. Wasn't it? Besides some random glitter here and there it was a normal wall. A proper wall.

Closing her eyes into a terrible wince, Evey stuck her hand out. And through. She cracked an eyelid. "Huh. Well, I'll be damned."

"That's wot I told ya," said the worm primly. "Come inside, meet the missus. We've got biscuits I'm lead to believe."

"That's awfully nice of you, much obliged, but I haven't time you see. I've got a prat to beat, long story. Perhaps later. Thank you!" She ran off through the new section, disappearing behind the wall.

The odd little creature shouted worriedly after her. "No! Not that way! Oh, well, she's gone. So much for that."

He shook his head at her bad luck and went back inside to greet the missus, who had tea on sure enough and biscuits to spare. Poor dear, she'd head straight to the castle, going that way.

Evelyn navigated the blasted maze for another hour or two, venturing up several winding staircases, finally finding herself in a wasteland of tan stone walls dotted with the occasional shrubbery. If she'd thought the first round of this Labyrinth was bad, it hardly compared to the fun she was having now.

Stairs led to absolutely nowhere. Everything looked the same. There were hundreds of rows filled with tiresome trickery. Even the shrubbery took turns changing up on her.

She followed a promising path only suddenly to find herself standing at a dead end. Again. "Damn."

With a vexed sigh the woman retraced her steps for the umpteenth time and suddenly paused, flattening herself against the wall. She'd heard a voice.

"…Oh…rotten fairies always getting in the garden." It grumbled a few more choice words and then went back to humming lowly to itself. It sounded like coarse sandpaper grinding over dry logs. "…fourteen."

Evey carefully glanced around the corner and saw the back of a strange fellow, looking for all the world a midget clad in medieval garb. It was an odd sight indeed. His little stubby legs shuffled around a row of shrubbery and nettle, quite oblivious to the woman now standing fully behind him.

"Fifteen," the thing happily intoned. Well, as happy as a self-satisfied curmudgeon could be in the very least. He sprayed again with vigor. "Sixteen, seventeen, oh boy…got quite a nice chain going today."

"Um…?"

The strange man turned in surprise, brandishing his spray gun. He wasn't a midget after all, Evey decided. He was, well, she didn't know what he was exactly.

His skin was a patchwork of leathered wrinkles with fur on. His bulbous nose and exaggerated lips took up most of the room, looking outrageously large on his pinched face. Two eyes which were far too human for her comfort stared back. For a terrible minute the creature mistook her for someone else and his heart seized painfully with something akin to joy. His brow shot up, dragging folds of skin with it. She looked an awful lot like another girl, one he hadn't seen in quite some time and had been missing. He'd almost wobbled over.

But this woman wasn't Sarah.

She was older, thinner. Taller, perhaps. The scowl was new at least.

With a start he realised who this woman really was and nervously sized her up, deciding whether or not she was as much of a threat as her husband. He settled on a slightly shaky 'no' and once that was established, regarded her with disinterest.

"Oh, it's you," He said witheringly. The odd man turned without much more consideration and chased after a curious butterfly. "Eighteen. Blah," he mocked as he shot another one out of the air. The butterfly screamed as it fell. "Serves you right."

On further inspection, Evelyn discovered he'd been spraying fairies. She looked down at the fragile winged girl as it lay in a crumpled pile on the ground. It reached up, beseeching Evey to help it. Something Jareth had told her long ago rang in her mind. Little nippy pests…It looked innocent enough, staring up at her with helpless eyes and cooing sweetly. Too innocent. Nothing that nice came from around here, she knew.

The woman promptly ignored it, all but escaping the fairy hissing in her direction as she walked past in pursuit of this strange man.

"Nineteen. Twenty, ha. Oh, yuck. Bet that won't wash out."

"I was wondering," Evelyn interrupted his peculiar game, as he wiped his vest free of what was most likely fairy guts. "Do you perhaps know which direction I can find castle? I seem to be a bit lost."

"Maybe."

The woman pursed her lips when he didn't elaborate further. "Well?"

"'Well', what?" The small gardener huffed and sprayed another fairy. She was proving to be rather disagreeable. Even for the wife of that damn Jareth.

"Do you or don't you?"

"Don't I what?" He said. He waved a craggy hand to shoo her off and went back to humming. "Twenty three! Twenty four, ha ha! Gotcha."

"Horrid little leathered excuse for a goblin." She muttered, giving up.

The gardener spun around. "I'm not 'Horrid'. I'm 'Hoggle'. And I'm a dwarf, get it right."

"Dwarf, goblin. All beasties in my book. Good day."

The woman had begun to leave, quite done with the dwarf's grinchy antics. She'd get on quite well without him, thank-you-very-much. Once she figured out which path to take, at least. He called after her, thorough naysayer that he was. "You know what your problem is?"

Evelyn kept walking, ignoring him. He grumbled and followed after. Damn if he wouldn't get the last word.

"I said, do you know what your problem is?"

"I'm still listening to you?" She volunteered.

Two furry brows drew up incredulously over his eyes. "Oh, I don't know why I even thought you was Sarah. You're nothing like her at all." The dwarf stalked away on stumpy legs mumbling darkly to itself. "Lousy queens thinking themselves important..."

Evey frowned. "Wait, you knew my aunt?"

Hoggle stopped and hesitated suddenly, turning. He fixed her with a very distrustful look. "Sarah is your…aunt?

"Yes, she is. Oh, or rather, she…was." The woman corrected herself. "She's died I'm afraid."

Hoggle reeled back, his face a mask of unreadable emotion. He stood troubled for quite some time. When at last Evelyn thought for sure he'd start crying or worse, the little fellow shrugged and turned about. He grunted. "Shame. She was my…friend."

"I'm sorry."

The dwarf had almost caved right then but thinking better of it, started off again, not wanting to get involved. Sarah's niece or not she was still Jareth's wife. And no wife of the Goblin King would get his help.

"Hobby?" The woman called after him. "Please wait."

"Hoggle," he couldn't help but correct, albeit weakly and without much spirit. His eyes were heavy. The dwarf waved his hands at the hopeless situation once more and kept going. "Bah!"

"At least point me in the right direction? That's all I ask!"

"No."

"Fine!" Evelyn called after him, all anger. She didn't look back this time. Dwarves suck, she decided.

Back in the throne room several beasties were in the process of throwing a party of sorts, thoroughly delighted that their King was no longer tied down by that killjoy Queen of his. Every ledge, surface, step, and sill was covered in goblins. Twisted laughter echoed about the castle. Almost the entire Goblin City had turned up for this exceptional celebration. Without someone cleaning up their messes they wrecked the place with no remorse.

Chickens exploded into the air as cavorting masses streaked by, trailing dirty clothes and overturning pots. Feathers and fur rained upon the puddled floor. Music was merrily thumping in the background of this chaotic cacophony, a strange counterpoint.

The babe sat in the midst of it all, sad to be without his mum. He'd been whining about for the last hour or so, despite the great hubbub of goblins around him. No one seemed to be paying him any mind.

Jareth sat on this throne, head in his hand. His riding crop had been fetched some time ago and was mindlessly hitting the boot of his draped leg in time with the music. Cruel eyes looked up at nothing and closed once more, his mind deep in thought. His gloved hand took turns covering his mouth and eyes, rubbing at his throbbing temples once or twice for good measure. There was so much wrong with the world.

Anger and resentment fought with his foolish heart. He'd never felt so conflicted. Heartbroken. Furious. Sad. Lovesick. He raged on with despair. He anguished with indignation.

A terrible sound caught his attention. Several goblins had taken to pulling apart the absent queen's throne. The Goblin King sat up promptly, the riding crop going still.

"No!" His panicked voice was enough to pause all in the room. A cup fell to the ground in ringing metallic finality, rolling to a stop. The sound was pronounced in the silence. Even the baby looked up at him curiously. Jareth realised he'd been shouting and tried for indifference. He settled back down self-consciously.

"Leave it. It'll give me something to…destroy later on."

The gaggle of goblintry shrugged off and took to fighting over a bit of fabric, the music coming back on with a bumpy start. A rather rotund goblin with horned hat on was mostly winning their tug-of-war. A couple unpleasantly gnarled denizens were working to overturn a cask of beer near the porthole window. They succeeded in a great waterfall of alcohol upon the floor. Another hoard across the room had taken to mean-spirited fun. One prankster unwisely shot a spitball at a roosting chicken above where Jareth sat, causing feathers to shower down.

The King glowered for a hot second.

"Damn beasties," He picked a black feather out of his hair and caught himself, gasping. He'd used the moniker his wife had given them. With dark thoughts the Goblin King fell to silence once more. Damn Evelyn. Damn her. Damn her…

He made a decision.

"You!" The man got up in a horrid fit, rounding on a shocked goblin. The thing cowered and awaited its beating. A terrible moment passed, the kind of terrible moment that decides one's fate. Jareth's arrogant mouth peeled back into a grin suddenly, teeth showing. He spun around and started to sing a familiar song in dark fun. "You remind me of the babe!"

Evelyn would not win his Labyrinth, it was settled. He was the Goblin King. She was no match for his magic, after all. He wouldn't be so easily conquered.

"Bloody hell," Evey sighed and came to rest at the top of a set of stairs, yielding no outlet. She was thoroughly exhausted and still not feeling all that well. "I swear I'll shrink all your shirts. All of them. Trousers too."

"Who ya talkin' tae?" A voice interrupted her private musings. She spun around. Where wall had been was now home to two doors. Strange card-like guardsmen stood before both. They laughed at her fright. "We wear kilts 'case ye didn't notice!"

Evey stood and brushed herself off, wandering over to the laughing group. She leveled an accusatory look upon them. "This was a dead end."

One of the guards stacked on top of another cried out, "Oh yah? Wot's that behind ye then?"

They all shared another good laugh. Sure enough the stairs she'd only just come up were now gone, replaced by a wall. Evelyn was not in the mood.

"The only wae out ae here is tae try one ae these doors."

"One door leads tae the castle, the other one tae certain deat–"

"—Listen, I'm sure this is all quite lovely fun for you. But I'm in a hurry and I've had just about enough of this Labyrinth to last me a lifetime. I didn't want to do this but you leave me no choice…as your Queen, I command you to tell me which is the correct door."

She stood imperiously, drawing up to her full height and looking down her nose at them as she'd seen Jareth do countless times. And waited. The four guards exchanged a look amongst themselves and burst out laughing. Evey deflated.

"Sorry, but that won't work down here. Yew'll have tae solve this like everyone else, lass."

"It's a sair fecht," Agreed another, as far as Evelyn could tell. She looked at him funny for a bit.

"Fine," The woman growled bitterly. "Alright, get on with it. Tell me your riddle. It is a riddle, isn't it? It's always a bloody riddle."

One of the top door guardsmen looked rather disappointed. She'd nearly ruined his big entrance. He coughed slightly and took up his task, settling into their well-rehearsed routine. "You have tae ask us which the correct one is. Be warned: one ae us a'ways tells the truth, and the other a'ways lies. That's the truth. He lies."

"Dew not! I tell the truth!"

She'd seen this trick done in a movie before. Only it had been wine instead of wisecrackers, poison instead of preference. Evelyn smiled at her own inner monologue and evil plotting. She'd outsmart them at their own game.

In the very least it gave her moderate pleasure to be just as devious for once. Inconceivable!

"But it's so simple," She interjected unfazed, much to the chagrin of all four guards. "Now, a clever creature would say that he was telling the truth and the other is lying because he would know that only a great fool would reach for his door. I am not a great fool, so I can clearly not choose your door."

"Aye," the second head said, a bit hesitantly. "Wait, wot does she mean?" He looked to his brother on the bottom and they both shrugged.

"But you must have known I was not a great fool. You would have depending upon it, so I can clearly not choose the other door."

One of the heads on top thought himself rather clever. "Ah hah! So yer choos'n that one, then? Right?" His smile froze and he looked to his companion for help. "Right?"

The woman couldn't stop her grin. "Not remotely! Because your accents peg you as Scotsmen, as everyone knows. And Scotland is clearly known for its whiskey. And whiskey is wonderful for getting people drunk at a pub. And drunken people are not trustworthy.

"And so, as you are not trusted by me, I can clearly not choose the first door."

The bottom two heads looked up at their counterparts, clearly not understanding. A terrible moment of uncertainty passed between the guards. "Wot she sayin', then, anyway?"

Another head shook dolefully. "Not sure. Maybe the wee gell is havin' a fit!"

Evey laughed heartily, feeling suddenly happy to have befriended a film buff during uni. "Just wait until I get going! Wait, where was I?"

"Scotland!" One head volunteered and then frowned. "No…"

"Nah, how could she be in Scotland? She's standin' right in front ae us."

"She was on the whiskey, I think."

"Oh, I don't think so. She was about to pick yew," Said a blue head down below, spurring his partner to turn and face the other pair. The guardsmen had moved out of the way of their respective doors, trying to make heads or tails of her twisting logic. They'd assumed she'd figured out the riddle, although the verdict was still out on how.

"She was?"

"Ye don't think so? She said she'd figured us out. That means she was about to choose yew."

Evelyn took the opportunity to creep past their arguing forms, opening the left door unhindered, it being the aforementioned correct door.

"Nah, I don't think that was it."

A red guard made a face, "Well, wot dew I think then?"

"I think ya should shut up." Its partner offered.

"Oh, yew shut up!"

The bottom blue creature merely sighed. "Do us al'a favor and both ae ya shut up."

"Wot?"

"Yapping on al'the time. Think we'd get on just fine without ye," the other blue guard commented. They shared a moment together in mutual dissatisfaction and made silent plans to contact the union in the morning, straight away.

"Ye're lucky. Ye're not under him."

The red fellow above the complainer was quite distraught. "Wot ye mean, laddie?"

"Ya snore."

"I don't – and anyway, yew should lay off the cabbage."

One of the blue guards spoke up. "A'right, a'right... Let's al' agree there shall be no more cabbage. Now that that's settled, lassie, which door dew ya – oh."

The four guards found themselves completely alone on the summit. They looked round the empty space the woman had only just been standing.

"She's buggered off," The bottom red one said. "Och! Where'd she go then? It's a dead end!"

They all shared a long, confused moment. One of the guards eventually frowned.

"Ye know, ya really should lay off the cabbage, laddie..."

"…Sorry."

Jareth collapsed in a breathless state upon his throne, still laughing in good fun, thoroughly elated from dancing and merrymaking about the room. The song had ended but music was still keeping a fresh beat in the background of his thoughts. The goblins were heartily mucking up the place. He watched them roam with abandon, enjoying the chaos they created. The man gave a contented stretch and settled down, taking up a lazy crystal just for tradition's sake.

Dancing was just the medicine the doctor had ordered.

He wrapped a leg about his chair and leaned back into a trilling laugh, catching a goblin being clobbered by its brothers and falling down into the pit in the floor. They were infinitely stupid creatures to be sure, but oh, what delicious fun it was to watch them be beaten up. Or mauled. Or worse.

The sound of dismay was lovely to his ears.

Jareth rubbed his chin in deliberation for a moment and then beamed, an idea clicking into place. He sent the goblin nearest him to the bog for no good reason at all, barking with maniacal laughter when the surprised thing disappeared with a pop. What fun! What fun, indeed!

He leveled a look upon the babe where it sat and hummed happily to himself, excited to soon have yet another in his collection. They provided such endless entertainment. His serpentine smile grew dark with malice. The Goblin King had fully returned now, arrogant and dreadful. He hadn't felt this good in ages!

He felt so much better in fact, that he could hardly remember what had him so upset in the first place.

"Your Highness!" Came the reminder in tones of shrill subservience, wrecking his mood. "The Queen has breached the door guards at the center of the labyrinth, sire. She's in the boxwood maze now."

"What?" The Goblin King sat up and held a hand to his mouth in shock, no longer smiling. He looked to the giant clock on the wall. "She shouldn't have gotten this far. She shouldn't have gotten this far at all!"

The beastie winced up at him. "What shall we do your majesty?"

His sudden burst of infuriation made the informant cower and slip out of sight behind the throne, marginally grateful to not have been bogged as well.

Jareth frowned darkly and swept off of his throne, his eyes set into a cruel line. Images shifted in the crystal he held, focusing on a familiar face. It made his lip quirk with indecipherable emotion.

"I'll just have to pay dear Evey a visit now, won't I?"