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Not an Ordinary Girl	By : StoryGirl Category: G through L > Labyrinth Views: 4346 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This story is not for financial gain. I do not own any rights to the world of Labyrinth. This is purely a work of fan fiction

Chapter List
- 1-Hoggle's New Job
- 1
Author’s Note:
This story is a slow-burn with a Jareth and Sarah pairing. It spans the course of several years; starting six months after Sarah leaves the Labyrinth the victor and goes until she is in her mid-twenties. This story tells the tale of how a heartbroken and somewhat bitter Jareth decides he will get what he wants and then goes about bumbling his way through the course of doing so. There will be equal parts angst and fluff. In my opinion, a good J/S story has plenty of both. Please note that no sexual encounters will happen between Jareth and Sarah until the chapters where she is of age. Each chapter will be from a different character’s POV. Sarah’s Labyrinth friends will occasionally have a chapter from their POV (such as Hoggle’s POV in this first chapter) but the majority of the chapters will be from either Sarah or Jareth’s POV. Enjoy.

Hoggle stood outside the Goblin King’s chamber door with a building pressure of greasy dread settling heavily in the pit of his stomach, his doorknob like knees knocking together; sending an audible thwack, thwack echoing through the thick gloom of the winding corridor. The dwarf’s slight hands trembled to the point where he shook the thick-cut crystal wine decanter and single goblet he carried. They made a jarring rattle on the serving tray he held tightly against his chest; almost as if it could be used as some sort of shield against Jareth the tyrant.
“King awake. King maaaaaaad!” Ludo, one of Hoggle’s closest friends needlessly informed him from where the beast’s massive frame slouched against the wall. Ever vigilantly keeping his post next to the Goblin King’s door.

The sweet natured, but decidedly dimwitted, beast clutched a badly rusted broadsword that looked like nothing more than a worse for wear paring knife in his gargantuan paw. A much nicked and dented helmet that looked as if it was dug up from some long dead goblin guard’s moldering grave, perched precariously atop of the creature’s massive furry head. Being that the helmet looked to be no less than ten sizes too small, Hoggle was certain that Ludo would send the ill-fitting piece of scrap metal flying through a nearby window or crashing to the floor with any sort of sudden movement.

“Way to state the obvious. I know he’s mad. He’s mad all the time now. What else is new?” Hoggle retorted, trying in vain for his usual waspish tone and only managing a weak and garbled mumble. He swallowed against the near painful lump of nerves that had somehow securely lodged itself within his throat.
For the millionth time during the laborious six months since Sarah’s triumph over the Goblin King; Hoggle once again found himself questioning his sanity in accepting the promotion Jareth had offered him as his personal valet. Well, it wasn’t as if he had much of a choice at the time. Jareth had given him only two options; be elevated from his lowly station as one of the many underappreciated labyrinth gardeners to serve Jareth in the goblin castle, or be pitched head first into the bog of eternal stench.

Needless to say Hoggle hadn’t much liked the idea of stinking for the rest of his life. As everyone in the goblin realm was all too aware, if you so much a dipped a toe into the sludgy, sickly green bog you would stink forever, no matter how much you bathed and scrubbed. The bog’s putrid stench was even immune to all magical cures. It couldn’t be nullified by any sort of faerie magic or witches’ potion. Which is why most victims of a “bogging” (as Jareth was fond of calling it) went to live in the small settlement just a little north of the bog, amongst others that had received the same punishment or had simply been unlucky and/or stupid enough to fall in. Once you had been bogged no one but others like you would ever tolerate your presence.
Bog dwellers they were called; pariahs to all other Fae. The only sort of silver lining for these poor wretches was the fact that a prolonged exposure to the bog’s fumes often burnt out one’s sense of smell altogether. Therefore, a victim of a bogging would eventually be granted the blessed relief of no longer being capable of smelling their own horrid odor, their pungent surroundings, or anything else for that matter. Hoggle was more than happy to forgo the fate of becoming a bog dweller. Despite his ripe old age, he still hadn’t given up on his secret dream of finding a nice lady dwarf to settle down and hoard shiny knick-knacks with. That dream would never become a reality if he was doomed to smell like the arse of a festering ogre’s corpse that was left an entire week to rot in the blazing hot sun of summer. No woman in her right mind, dwarf or otherwise, would ever want a husband who smelled like that.
To be perfectly honest, Hoggle had all but jumped at the offered valet job with unabashed relief. Even if Jareth hadn’t threatened to bog him, Hoggle would have probably accepted without hesitation. When he had unwillingly accepted the king’s summons to the goblin castle the fateful day after Sarah had left the Underground with her baby brother, Hoggle had been absolutely convinced that his life had been about to come to a bloody or long suffering end. He had pictured everything from an executioner’s axe severing his head from his body, to slowly starving to death in the unforgiving dark oblivion of an Oobliette. Hoggle had no doubt that his Majesty would see his aid in Sarah’s victory as high treason and had completely expected the full weight of the Goblin King’s ire to come crashing down upon him.

So imagine the cantankerous little dwarf’s utter and complete shock when he discovered that not only would he and Sarah’s other friends from the goblin realm not be put to death for their betrayal, but they were all to be given positions among the royal court. Ludo, the gentle but quite imposing looking beast had been appointed as Jareth’s personal bodyguard. This never ceased to seem a particularly odd choice on the king’s part, considering Ludo was now using the blunt end of his rusted sword to scratch his own belly. As he scratched, the silly beast began tipping his head back and giving low animalistic grunts of appreciation for the simple pleasure of a good scratch. As Hoggle had anticipated, Ludo’s too small helmet hit the dusty flagstone floor with a raucous clang and of course, went unnoticed as Ludo continued his sword scratching with blissful abandon.
“Pfffft! Some bodyguard you are!” Hoggle chided his friend with an almost convincing imitation of his usual snark. In reality however, He was grateful for any excuse at all to delay going into the king’s chambers just a bit longer.
“Hoghead!!!! Is that you out there making all that insufferable racket? What is taking you so bloody long with that wine? I could have grown the damn thistle, harvested it, and made it into wine myself by now! You useless little cur! Get in here right this instant!” Jareth’s venom laden tone came booming through the closed door, nearly causing Hoggle to soil the fancy lace trimmed breeches of his new uniform.
“Oh what I wouldn’t give to trade places with Sir Didymus! At least he’s away from the castle most of the time,” Hoggle breathed a deep wistful sigh as he shuffled his still trembling form into the dim maw of the goblin king’s bed chamber.
Sir Didymus, the boisterous little fox and self-declared knight, unlike Hoggle, had been given his dream job the day they had all been summoned to the castle. The fearless little fox had been appointed a title Jareth had called Head of all Questing. The position basically consisted of Sir Didymus riding all over the Goblin Realm on his trusty steed Ambrosius and getting himself caught up in the middle of any troublesome situation he could manage to find. Then, if he survived, he was to report any significant happenings to the Goblin King.

Hoggle highly suspected that the position had been completely made up by Jareth just so he would be spared the tiny fox knight’s constant yammering and endless accounts of all his many brave deeds. He also suspected that Jareth secretly hoped that someday Sir Didymus might parish in the line of duty so that Jareth would never have to deal with his prattling again. The Goblin King always seemed just the tiniest bit disappointed whenever the little knight retuned from one of his many perilous quests.
Hoggle had yet to meet anyone so completely undeterred by Jareth’s poisonous moods as Sir Didymus. Even when Jareth ranted and bellowed at the fox knight in that tone that always managed to turn Hoggle’s bowels to ice water, Sir Didymus would only blink and continue on with his endless accounts, completely unperturbed. As cowardly as Hoggle knew himself to be, he often found himself envious of his little fox friend’s grand adventures. As much as Hoggle dreaded any sort of danger, most days he would prefer facing an entire gang of irate trolls rather than continue to deal with Jareth’s infinite ire.
Oh How I wish I was back in the walls of the labyrinth sprayin’ for faeries and scrapin’ eyeball lichen off the walls… I shoulda’ let Jareth the rat bog me back when I had the choice.

Hoggle suppressed a wistful sigh as he tried in vain not to let the loss of his once peaceful existence mire him down in woeful depression. He tentatively began to close the king’s chamber door behind himself. Hoggle cast one last disparaging look at Ludo, the so called bodyguard, who was now slumped to the floor taking an impromptu nap. Ludo’s all but useless sword was now sticking out from beneath the beast’s immense, furry bottom, where it had probably been discarded and forgotten while Ludo had been using the pathetic excuse of a weapon as an ass scratcher.
“Oh please!” Hoggle gave an exasperated little sigh, rolling his eyes at the sorry sight Ludo made, as he shut the door with a dull thud.

If any threat whatsoever showed up on Jareth’s doorstep; hell, it could even be a fuzzy bunny assassin, and if it got as far as Ludo, Jareth was probably good as dead. The Goblin King probably wouldn’t even put up much of a fight anyway… These days all Jareth seemed to have any interest in was wallowing in his own self-pity and drinking wine of the amnesia thistle by the barrel full. That, and screaming at Hoggle for any reason whatsoever, or forcing him to do humiliating things for the king’s personal entertainment.

Hoggle suppressed a shudder at the memory of the week before, when Jareth had been in a particularly foul mood and insisted Hoggle wear a miniature ladies ball gown (which he suspected Jareth had commissioned the royal dressmaker to make especially for him). Once attired in his frilly new garb, Jareth had then made Hoggle sing a popular goblin realm ditty about an ogre fucking a milkmaid on the straw floor of her father’s barn. Jareth had clapped his hands merrily to the tune, pausing every now and again to throw his head back and burst into maniacal laughter, or hurl a stray object at the dwarf whenever he felt Hoggle wasn’t being lively enough with his awkward dance moves, as the little man grudgingly pranced about the king’s chamber.
Slowly starvin’ to death in a dark Oobliette would be better than havin’ to wear that dress again!

Hoggle grit his teeth, with no small amount of bitterness, as he began to fastidiously make his way through the chaos of soiled laundry, empty wine bottles, and other such clutter in Jareth’s sitting room. All while trying not to dump the precious contents of the serving tray he now clutched for dear life.
“Come, come, Hogbrain!” Hoggle gave an involuntary shiver at the muffled shout of the Goblin King that blasted from the open doorway of Jareth’s bedroom.
“I haven’t got all day for you to laze about! Where is my wine?”
“Errr… coming, your Majesty!” Hoggle gulped, and nearly succeed in tripping on what appeared to be a ladies brazier. The wine decanter suddenly lurched forward and nearly overturned on it’s uneasy tray. Hoggle’s small hand shot out with lightning quick reflexes awarded to him only through shear desperation. With an audible sigh of relief, Hoggle righted the decanter and continued through the door. Jareth had woken up without his wine waiting for him… this was not going to be a pleasant day.

Hoggle found his master bare-assed, lying face down on his mattress; the silken ivory bedcovers in complete rumpled disarray around him. The dwarf wrinkled his nose at the stale musk of sweat, body odor, and sex that permeated the disaster of a room around him. Jareth had always been one for tidiness and order in his own personal quarters. The rest of the castle was left to the whims of his goblins, which was why it wasn’t at all uncommon to find chickens, and other livestock, in the throne room… as well as other such homey touches. However, his personal chambers had always been a sort of haven for Jareth.

When Hoggle had first come to work in the castle, he had been somewhat in fearful awe of the Goblin King’s pristine and immaculately ordered chambers. He had been afraid to touch or move the slightest of things for fear of unleashing his king’s wrath upon himself. However, as the days passed and his Majesty’s bitterness seemed to grow to the point of completely consuming him, Jareth had digressed into nothing but a womanizing drunk that didn’t seem to mind a good wallow in his own filth. Unfortunately, Jareth’s newfound disregard for cleanliness also seemed to extend to his personal hygiene.

Hoggle gave the air around the bed an experimental sniff and found his upper lip involuntarily curling with distaste. It seemed a great deal of the room’s stench was coming from Jareth himself. Perhaps he could try and talk the king into taking a bath, and just maybe, his Majesty would allow one of the chambermaids to actually clean his chambers instead of ravaging her like a mindless animal. It seemed clear to Hoggle, that with each passing day, Jareth became more and more like the directionless goblins he had been entrusted to govern over.
“Wine!” Jareth rumbled, not even bothering to lift his head and look at Hoggle. “Oh, and tell that to leave.”
Hoggle followed Jareth’s clumsy one-armed gesture to the foot of the bed where a half clothed chambermaid lay in a blissful post-coital stupor; her bodice ripped open revealing perky alabaster breasts. Her skirts were hopelessly tangled abound her curvy hips, displaying far too much of her lady business. Cheeks burning, Hoggle took the opportunity to look away by turning his back to set the serving tray on a nearby table and pour his master’s wine goblet full to the brim of the much coveted thistle wine.
“Here you are, Sire” Hoggle all but tripped in his eagerness to get the bitter smelling, milky green liquid to his king. Jareth was always unbearable, but he was just a bit less unbearable when he was fully in the grips of the wine’s numbing effects.
I thought I told you to tell her to go, Higgle,” Jareth mumbled, lifting his tossled golden head just enough to bring his eager lips to the goblet’s rim. He drained it entirely in a short series of desperate gulps as he propped himself up on the mattress with one shaky arm.

“Oh! Right you are, Sire!” Hoggle all but jumped out of his skin and dashed back over to where the sleeping maid lay, giving her a few good shakes around her shoulders. “Ummm… miss, the king has requested that you be leavin’. Miss!” Hoggle pleaded when the girl was slow to rouse.

No doubt Jareth had plied the maid with a great deal of drink the night before. That was the goblin king’s style these days; lure the pretty little maids and simpering female courtiers into his chambers, get them good and drunk, fuck their brains out until the sun rose the next day, then unceremoniously have Hoggle kick them out. Besides, the girl had to be completely wrecked if she could sleep through all of Jareth’s yelling.
Not that Jareth really needed the help of any sort of intoxicant in order to have his way with pretty much any female in his kingdom. As increasingly charmless as Jareth had become over the past months, it didn’t go unnoticed that he was a good looking Fae male and highly desired by the females of the underground. Surprisingly enough, even Jareth’s recent lack of bathing didn’t even seem to deter them. In fact, it only increased his popularity with the ugly born-goblin females. Thankfully, Jareth only slept with the attractive and human looking made-goblin women. If Hoggle had to wake half naked born-goblins and kick them out of the king’s chamber every morning, he swore he would have happily thrown himself in the bog of eternal stench and gotten it over with. It was a far better fate to stink for the rest of his life than assault his poor old eyes with the unimaginable horror of sagging, warty goblin tits.
“Wha-what’s going on?” The bleary-eyed chambermaid sputtered, startling at the sight of Hoggle nudging her awake, then narrowing her large brown eyes at Jareth in suspicion. “I know I told you I do anythin’, yer Highness… but I won’t be fuckin’ no dwarfs for yer entertainment! I don’t do that sort of thing … anymore.”
Hoggle just gaped at her, cheeks burning and his mouth hanging open like a sputtering fish.
The goblin king made an exasperated noise from deep within his throat. “No Lulabell, my dear. No dwarf fucking will be required of you. In fact, you may go right this instant,” Jareth drawled, getting up to help himself to another goblet of thistle wine, completely heedless of his unclothed state.
“Go? Now?” the maid pouted, apparently she was one of those women who were stupid enough to believe Jareth wanted anything more from them than a good rutting between the sheets. Hoggle hated that sort. They were always harder to get rid of and the longer they lingered, the angrier the goblin king got at him. As if it were his fault that the silly females couldn’t grasp that all the Goblin King wanted was what was between their thighs!
“Yes.Go. Now.” Jareth garbled against the rim of his goblet. “You were… sufficient.”
“Sufficient!” The maid gasped in outrage, her back going ramrod straight with indignity, “That’s not what ya were sayin’ last night when ya had me feet up over me head!”
Oh no! Now she’ll never leave! Hoggle wailed inwardly.
“Hogwart, I thought you were taking care of… this,” Jareth grumbled in a dull tone, making a slight shooing motion in the direction of the maid before draining the remainder of his second goblet.
The glint of rage simmering in the Goblin King’s eyes didn’t go unnoticed by Hoggle, as well as the slight tilt of Jareth’s matted blonde head towards the wardrobe by the bed, where Hoggle knew all too well the king kept the tiny ball gown. The message was clear; if Hoggle didn’t want to spend the rest of the day prancing around in a dress, singing bawdy tavern songs in a falsetto voice, (while having wine bottles hurled at his head); he needed to get rid of the disgruntled Lulabell. Now.

“Come along, miss! The daylight is a wastin’! I’m sure you’ve got duties to be attendin’ to!” Hoggle gasped, grabbing the maid around the wrist as best as his small dwarf hands would allow. “We best not be botherin’ his Majesty anymore this morning,” Hoggle gave a halfhearted snort of nervous laughter, giving the reluctant maid’s arm a firm tug.

“Hey! Watch yer grubby little mitts!” Lulabell scoffed, easily breaking free of Hoggle’s grasp and trying in vain to close her corset and right her skirts.
“Just come along, miss,” Hoggle pleaded, raw desperation beginning to leak into his voice. Hell, he wasn’t too proud to get on his knees and beg the little tart to leave.

Thankfully it didn’t come to that. Lulabell finally got the message when Hoggle got behind her and began to shove at her round backside as hard as he could with both hands. With a few muttered curses, the surly maid grudgingly made her departure, breasts jiggling out of her gaping corset. As he allowed himself the luxury of a second to breath out a gushing sigh of relief, Hoggle couldn’t help but notice that just like all the other women who frequented the king’s room, this one too had long dark hair that fell down her back like a sleek cocoa curtain.
Brown eyes and long, dark hair. They always have to look like Sarah, don’t they, Jareth? Even if just a little bit…

An unexpectedly odd mix of pity and disgust began to burble in the pit of the prickly little dwarf’s belly.

Just to think of it… Jareth, the so called mighty Goblin King… heartbroken and destroyed over a human girl. Now that’s irony that is!
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Not an Ordinary Girl