Labyrinth 1. Prologue

**Disclaimer:**All references to the characters Jareth & Sarah and the film _Labyrinth_ belong to Jim Henson Studios and other pertinent parties. I do not claim ownership to the characters and / or the original source material.

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**King, Queen, Rook, Maze: Prologue. Ten Years Later**

"Before the High and Low Fae Courts, the nobles present, and the dignitaries from surrounding Kingdoms, the Fairest calls her court to order. Having served his sentence of ten years imprisonment without protest, the Fairest has granted the release of Jareth mac Manannán mac Lir, Child of the Tuatha Dé Danann, Der König der Kobolde, Dominus Primus Labyrinthī Est, Son of the Esteemed Manannán mac Lir who led Us below the Earth, the King of the Goblins, He is the First Lord of the Labyrinth…"

As he knelt before the Queen of the Fae, he ignored the herald's endless drone about his "crime" and why the Fairest had decided to release him. He ignored the reproachful and haughty eyes, the anxious hush and still lips waiting to gossip about the fall of the abhorrent Goblin King. With half-lidded eyes, he kept his eyes focused on the polished marble floor in front of him. He would show no emotion here. He wouldn't give them the satisfaction of knowing how he felt, of what he truly wanted to do to this damnable mockery of a court.

"… was found guilty of neglecting his duties and refusing to appear before the High Court when summoned..."

Queen Mab loved her little shows of power, but he wouldn't give her courtiers the satisfaction of seeing him broken. He wasn't broken at all, in fact. The thin iron rings around his neck, wrists, and ankles had been easy to bear. The thin iron rings around his neck, wrists, and ankles had been easy to bear compared to the pain he had endured ten years ago. A simple spell, a girl, a babe, a wish spoken without a thought, his Labyrinth, and him… the Goblin King could bear the pain; he had born a heavier weight upon his soul long ago.

"He will be forever marked by his failure to uphold his office. His wounds will never heal, and they will serve to show others the consequences of his actions."

Any other Fae would have howled in pain. Jareth hadn't. Any other Fae would have been driven mad without their magic. Jareth hadn't… for the most part. For ten years, he bore the pain of muted magic and burning metal on his fair skin. He had struggled to maintain a tenuous link to the Labyrinth in spite of it all, but the salt and iron took its toll upon his magic. So, as he struggled in the darkness, the Goblin King used his time imprisoned in the salt cellars beneath Queen Mab's castle to think. He thought about his life before the Labyrinth, before becoming the Goblin King. He had thought about how his kingdom faired in his absence He had thought about his life after… the girl, about the year and a day he had spent searching for an answer. He had thought about how he had committed a taboo, how he had the power to do it, and how if the Queen truly knew what he had done and what he was capable of… she would've kept him locked up forever. Mostly, however, he had thought about how best to exact his pound of flesh from that petulant human creature who bested him.

"Today the Fairest releases the Goblin King from his punishment."

Right on cue, a guard approached with thick leather gloves to remove the iron holding Jareth subdued. The guard fumbled clumsily with the pins on the rings around Jareth's wrists. The Goblin King shifted only barely enough to assist in removing the rings around his ankles. Angry burns etched a clean line around the prideful Fae's limbs. Behind open fans and gloved hands, soft murmurs and gasps escaped the more naïve courtiers. Inwardly Jareth gave a bitter laugh. Long ago, he had seen worse on other prisoners. Comparatively, Queen Mab was a more benevolent ruler than the All-Father. _He _would have sniffed Jareth's actions out; _He _would've simply executed the Goblin King. It would have been a merciful death…

When the guard moved to release the iron ring around his neck, Jareth refused to meet the guard's eyes. He could sense the Fae man quaking. Was it out of fear of the iron? No, the guard wore gloves. Was it out of fear of him? Perhaps. The guard's hands trembled as he pulled the ring away, but he accidentally brushed the iron along Jareth's jawline for a moment. A small hiss escaped into the hushed silence of the hall, and the frightened guard paused. Jareth didn't move; he didn't react at all actually. He remained as still as a stone gargoyle. Some courtiers began to whisper once again. Carefully, the guard held the rings and stepped away from the Goblin King.

"He shall rise and give thanks to his monarch," announced the proclaimer from his perch at the Queen's left hand. A minute passed without the Goblin King rising to his feet. The Fairest shifted on her throne slightly, the soft rustle of her ivory skirts quieting her court. Her emerald eyes alighted on the new burn on Jareth's once flawless jawline. Then her gaze drifted over the stubborn Goblin King in his rags. With his eyes downcast, she could not properly gauge his state of mind. However, even covered in grime, he had the bearing of an arrogant man. Dark circles under his eyes from lack of sleep and the hollows in his cheeks did little to diminish his beauty as well. His wild mass of blond hair hung limply about his shoulders. The Goblin King looked broken… but Queen Mab knew better. _A child of the All-Father to his core…_ she mused to herself. _I may have underestimated you, Jareth._ _I shall have to keep an eye on you and your "kingdom" more closely._

Queen Mab rose from her throne ignoring the tittering of courtiers, and she descended the dais steps to stand in front of Jareth. She knew they were wondering why Jareth did not rise and thank the gracious monarch of the Fae for her kindness. What she had done, Mab knew, was no kindness. Salt and iron was a Fae's enemy. The fact Jareth had survived relatively unscathed… She knew, and that very thought made her prideful heart tremble in fear.

"Goblin King," breathed the Fairest as she reached out to gently lift his chin. His head moved under her feather-weight touch, but three hearts beat passed before he fixed his mismatched eyes upon her. She quelled her nerves and raised her chin ever so slightly. With her bare fingertips upon his skin, she searched his mind for an answer or a clue to his secret. He did not attempt to thwart or fight her intrusion; he did not reach out himself to plunder her own guarded mind. _What are you hiding, brother? _she asked him mentally. She received no answer, but he opened his mind to her. The Goblin King blinked those hideous eyes, and she found nothing – only a blank canvas, an empty room with white walls and a solitary chair. Queen Mab pulled her hand away to break the connection. _You always knew how to hide your secrets from us. You are right not to trust us, brother._

"You may return to your kingdom," she said imperiously in spite of her inner turmoil. The Fairest hid her fear as Jareth's lips pulled back into a sinister smile. The slight canines gave him a predatory look unlike any other Fae except for one. Vaguely, he reminded her of the centuries past… when goblins and faeries were something to be feared by humanity, when the All-Father led the Hunt into the darkest of forests, when the All-Mother led danced naked upon the moonlit water.

Without a word, Queen Mab turned her back on Jareth. She felt the rush of his dark magic and heard the courtiers titter. She knew where the Goblin King kneeled there would be nothing. Only a wisp of black smoke curling and dissipating in the sunlight would remain. In the blink of an eye, he had vanished from the court without a word. _Always so dramatic…_ she mused but a cold tendril of dark magic curled and tugged at the hem of her gown. She turned ever so slightly to eye the wisp before it faded into the ether. A warning, a premonition, a gut feeling of coming change gripped her, and she knew that something sinister and cruel had been unleashed upon the realm by her hand. _Indeed, you are more a child of the All-Father than all of us combined…_she thought turning back to stare at her throne, Father's throne once upon a time. _My dear brother, what will you do now, I wonder?_ The hush of Rumor's whispered wings began to stir the air into a frantic frenzy as Queen Mab ascended her throne once more.

* * *

In a circle of earth ringed by a hedgerow, Jareth took a deep breath. He shivered violently feeling his magic plummet to a dangerously low level. Vanishing had taken too much out of him, too much he didn't have. Sinking to his knees, he felt hot tears prick at the corners of his eyes. _So vulnerable, so weak, so powerless, _he thought madly and he growled unconsciously. Then he smelled _it_. He closed his eyes as something dark and ancient wrapped about him, something warm and knowing. He smelled starlight, earth, flora, stone, and magic. _His_ magic. He felt the Labyrinth respond to his mental tug of urgency for aid. His body took in a ragged breath as he let his mental barriers drop. He was home. He was safe. He was becoming partially whole again.

Opening his eyes, he let the pitiful tears fall to the ground. He hesitated for the briefest of moments before his trembling fingers touched the damp earth. With a weak smile, he heard and felt the Heart of the Labyrinth beneath him. That slow and steady plus like the beating of his own rapid heart, that song of old that sang his name and made his blood dance – he listened and reveled in the feeling. This was as close to becoming whole as he would allow himself. Another ragged breath was drawn out of his lungs. The magic coiled around him and seeped back into his being. His eyelids fluttered as the ancient magic rekindled the waning light within him. Slowly his heartbeat became the percussive beat to the Labyrinth's harmonious melody of power.

Digging his hands deeper into the wet earth, Jareth reached out mentally to touch his kingdom and assess the damage done by his absence. Much had changed on the outer reaches, but the core of his kingdom and castle had remained untouched. He would have to undo what that fool of a Fae ambassador had done, but thankfully the idiot had left the Labyrinth relatively alone. Changes would have to be made in time – new walls, new traps, and new terrors. The outer reaches of his kingdom would have to be assessed. The goblins… well, Jareth let a smirk grace his thin lips. He would grant them a boon if they had given the Fae ambassador a Hell of a time. All would be well if…

Taking a deep breath, he reached deeper for the dark secret he kept buried in the Heart of the Labyrinth. Something familiar yet intangible responded faintly through the iron cell buried beneath him. Like a whisper or a shudder, it called out in his voice. He shuddered tasting the iron and pulled away without responding to the question. _It's still safe…_ he thought with an audible sigh of relief. He ran a dirty hand through his blond hair and chuckled. _Of course, it's still safe. Younger sister, you never were one to seek out the why's and how's._

Jareth the Goblin King pulled his hands out of the wet earth completely and brushed his shirt sleeve against his now-dry eyes. The last connections between himself, his kingdom, and the Labyrinth were complete. He rocked back onto his heels and stared at the night sky over head. How he had missed that sky over his head. The vast expanse of starlight promised freedom and the unknown. Since his earliest days of traveling the kingdoms and lands of the Underground, the night sky had been a comforting presence. He closed his eyes feeling the cold moonlight and warm summer wind dance across his gaunt face.

"You have returned," a gravely, ancient voice said from the shadows of the hedges. Its sonorous tone struck Jareth to his core, and he suppressed a shudder. Reluctantly, he opened his eyes. With a slight tilt of his head, he let his gaze fall upon the physical manifestation of the Labyrinth attempting to pull itself out of the bushes. The ancient magical creature jerked once, twice, thrice, as it formed its human shape out of wet earth, sticky sap, and boxwood. Shakily, Jareth rose to his feet to greet the ancient creature. While the Labyrinth did not care or know about courtly protocol, the Goblin King refused to meet the creature while on his knees in mud.

Long ago, he had sought to escape the machinations of the court of his father and to find answers to his questions (and a bit of mischief). He had not set out to create a kingdom connected to the human world, but through a series of events (painful and regretful), he had. He had also ended up as the leader of a mischievous band of goblins. They entertained him; he protected them. It was a mutual deal of appreciation and need on various levels. So, he had decided to provide them with a purpose and a place to call their own.

In his travels, he had searched throughout the Under Ground for an acceptable place to claim as his. Then one day he happened upon a well, of sorts, filled with an ancient magic slumbering deep in the earth far from his father's iron hand. After some discussion, the ancient magic agreed to be shaped into the Labyrinth, to protect the land, and to assist the young Fae in creating a kingdom. Together they had formed a link – the ancient elemental power and Jareth – and very few knew of this. The bond allowed for Jareth to create his kingdom and its maze, protect the goblins, and become a formidable (albeit detested) Fae. The Labyrinth came into being and the young Fae became King.

"We have done what we can," the creature without eyes or mouth began.

"You have done well," he stated with a nod of agreement. In his absence, the Labyrinth could only do so much to keep the kingdom from falling apart. Since Jareth had no heir, all administrative decisions were completed by one competent court goblin and Queen Mab's appointed "ambassador." He hoped the city guards had thrown the fop into a bog… at least once a year.

"We remain incomplete." The comment drew Jareth out of his reverie of imagining a flamboyantly dressed Fae fop drowning in a bog and screeching for his Queen.

"What would you have me do?" he asked quietly. The creature paused as if unsure of something. Made from twisted earth and plant, the Labyrinth unfurled its hands into a gesture of supplication.

"Undo what has been done and return our magic."

"I cannot _undo_ what has been done," Jareth replied with a scowl. "And what magic do you speak of?"

The Labyrinth shook its head slowly.

"We want back the magic you gave _her_."

The Labyrinth felt the Goblin King's rage swell into a white hot flame. The physical manifestation recoiled from the snarling Fae, its Lord, Protector, and Shaper. It also sensed the error of its mere mention of the human girl, the Champion of the Labyrinth, the One Who Defeated and Humiliated the Goblin King, the Sarah. The mortal who had ensnared his heart and made him feel the weight of love. She would be his undoing if things were not made right, or so the Labyrinth knew. Patiently, it watched the white glow of Fae magic shining from Jareth's bare hands. Faint sparks fell from his knuckles. Yet the elemental had had no choice. There was more to say. It waited patiently for Jareth's rage to settle into a smoldering anger. He knew his protector would not harm it heedlessly. Once the Goblin King had spent his anger, the Labyrinth tilted its head as if to ask a question.

"Eleven years ago, you willingly let her spoken words bind you. You willingly gave her a part of us, a gift of magic, a lover's token. We do not wish for-"

"I don't care what you wish for!" Jareth shouted. His eyes flashed in the darkness. "I cannot reorder time to undo what happened so many years ago. I cannot simply ask her to return _our_ magic. What has been done and said cannot be changed."

The Labyrinth shook its head again. "She must willingly return what has been freely given or we will remain incomplete forever."

Jareth snarled. "Freely?! She _took _it from us. Then she used it against us. _You have no power over me!_" He spat on the ground as if the sentence tasted horrible. "The stubborn child spurned us. She threw our gifts into the dust, and we were left to rot in a cell of iron and salt."

Jareth approached the physical manifestation of the Labyrinth, and it attempted not to flinch out of instinct. In contrast to his words and emotions, Jareth gently raised the Labyrinth's blank visage of foliage upward. His ragged clothes had been replaced by his black battle armor and a swirling cape of starlight. Some of the fire had returned to his being and he seemed less haggard than mere moments before. The Goblin King had returned.

"I will _make _her undo what has been done to me… and I will _make _her suffer as I have. I will _make _her return our magic. I will _make _her beg me to take it," he breathed with a wolfish smile of satisfaction. "And then I will rip out her heart."

Only a rustle of leaves as the manifestation sunk into the hedgerow filled the night air. It could not dissuade its Lord from such distract measures tonight. The Labyrinth had spent too much magic already to continue to argue. Yet it had one last important thing to say. "Undo what has been done by the last stroke of the thirteenth hour on the anniversary of that day in two years. We must be complete once more by that hour, or the magic will be lost forever."

The Goblin King let the ancient magic return to its slumber. He clenched his dirty, bare hands, but a smile crept onto his dry lips. He had two years to regain all of his magical abilities. Two years to track down Sarah. Two years to observe and learn about his enemy… and use whatever devious means he could to make her return to the Labyrinth.

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[**A/N:** Insert dramatic music here. Angry Jareth is vengeful with a dash of glittery fury. What will he do, I wonder? On a lighter note, the concept of Jareth being linked magically to his creation seems to be a recurring theme in fanfics. Whether or not Archaia's prequel (due out in April 2013) explores this idea will be interesting to see. Edited & updated 4/17/13. Edited 9/9/13]


	2. What is't thou canst demand?

**Disclaimer: **All references to the characters Jareth & Sarah and the film _Labyrinth_ belong to Jim Henson Studios and other pertinent parties. I do not claim ownership to the characters and / or the original source material.

**King, Queen, Rook, Maze: Chapter 1. **_**What is't thou canst demand?**_

Plucking a piece of fluff off of her costume, a twenty-six year old Sarah Williams examined the foreign object. Her brow furrowed wondering how a downy feather had found its way into the stage wings. Carefully, she let the tiny feather fall to the floorboards of the stage. Something tickled her memory, but she couldn't bring herself to concentrate on it. Now was not the time to daydream or ponder why a downy feather had appeared on a stage with no feathers in any of the costumes whatsoever.

With a sigh, she lifted her head to watch the action on the stage. Her gaze, however, went directly across to the opposing wings of the stage. Matthew stared back at her with a smirk on his face. He gave her a wink. She gave a rueful smile. _Matthew should've been Caliban, _she mused to herself. _However, he does make for a fine Prospero._ She admired his square jaw and cheekbones emphasized by the stage make-up. He had been growing out his beard for months and the additional white hairs made him look older. She liked the more mature appearance; it is what she would imagine him to look like in five years when he turned thirty-five. Shelly nudged Matthew as she stepped out onto the stage. Twenty-two year-old Shelly played a wonderful Miranda – a starry eyed young teenager eager to see and experience the world. Sarah liked Shelly… except when the girl tried to flirt with the thirty year-old Matt. She watched as Shelly (Miranda) attempted to persuade her father Prospero (Matthew) on stage. When Prospero began to lay Miranda down to sleep, Sarah threw her shoulders back and lifted her chin. She took a deep breath and strode out onto stage at her cue -

"Come away, servant, come. I am ready now. Approach, my Ariel, come."

Above the stage, Jareth watched from the shadows in his owl form. His travels to the Above Ground had proved too tasking for him; the animal form proved useful for both hiding and conserving his energy tonight. He shifted on his feet, flexing and relaxing his talons. Irritated, he nudged a feather back into place on his wing. He blinked as Sarah walked onto the stage. Or at least, he thought the blue and white sprite on the stage was Sarah. When she spoke, he relaxed again. _She's playing a character_, Jareth mused as he watched her. It had taken months rather than days due to his weakened nature, but he had found her. He had difficulty tracking the magic in Sarah. The magic fluttered like a dying butterfly in that world of iron and mortality. When he had finally pinpointed her in the Above Ground, he wasn't surprised she was in a Shakespearean theater production. The wretched child did love to pretend to be someone else constantly. _Have you grown up at all, my precious enemy?_ he wondered bitterly.

In some respects, she had grown up in the past ten to eleven years. The skin tight costume left very little to the imagination, and the coloring emphasized her more… mature features. White on her chest and belly faded into shades of blue on her shoulders, arms, and legs. Or at least where he could see. A thin gown of white cloth hung carelessly from her body, but Sarah as the elemental spirit Ariel seemed to ignore the foreign cloth. A loose strap had already fallen to expose her bare shoulder and the detailing of the costume's coloring. Jareth squinted and noticed how the blue paint faded into purples and almost blacks on her back and darker reaches of her body. Somehow spots of her glittered in the light. Her raven black hair had been replaced with a wig of white and blue. A swatch of bright blue across the bridge of her nose and eyes completed the look of unearthly beauty captured in a corporal form.

"How now? Moody?" the man in the long robes spoke as if concerned with his wilting sprite. "What is't thou canst demand?"

"My liberty."Sarah as the sprite stood up straighter and smiled. She said it so confidently. Jareth ticked a claw impatiently on the metal rafter.

"Before the time be out? No more!" Prospero announced solidly. The confidence flew out of Ariel in a whoosh.

"I prithee," Ariel said clasping her hands. She sank to her knees as she pled with Prospero. "Remember I have done thee worthy service; Told thee no lies, made thee no mistakings, served; without or grudge or grumblings: thou didst promise to bate me a full year."

"Dost thou forget from what a torment I did free thee?" Prospero bellowed.

"No."

* * *

Jareth watched as Prospero berated Ariel, the man berating his Sarah. Oh, how he relished seeing the scene even if the "Champion" was merely interpreting the lines of the play. When the man stated he would release her from his service in two days, the defeated Ariel sprung up in joy. The delight in Sarah's voice and eagerness made Jareth cringe inwardly. _So many memories_… he mused. He shifted his wings to dispel them.

A part of him marveled at her mature beauty and the grace of her carriage on the stage. The rest of him, however, wanted to see her suffer. He wanted to fly down and tear his claws into that angelic face. To make her suffer the same humiliation that he had felt ten years ago. To make her live with visible scars of her own for the rest of her life. _Yet_, he told himself. _I must wait. I must be patient. I must for the right moment will come._ The Goblin King settled on his perch as he contemplated his enemy and how best to exact his revenge.

* * *

"Sarah? What's wrong?" Matthew nudged her as they walked out of the theater. "You seem rather… tense."

"Matt, have you ever…" Sarah lightly bit the inside of her lip. "Have you ever felt like someone was watching you?" Matthew laughed and hugged her.

"No! I don't mean the audience. I mean. Oh, never mind!" Sarah huffed exasperated. She tried to push Matthew away, but he wouldn't let her go. She looked up at him. The age wrinkles drawn onto his face fit wonderfully into his natural laugh lines. She smiled thinking back to how handsome he was now and would be as he grew older with her. Hopefully.

"Come back to my place with me, Ariel.," Matt teased. He leaned in and whispered into her ear. "Prospero has need of you, a _strong_ need for you." He nuzzled into her neck to emphasize his words. "That blue around your green eyes is so fetching. Let Prospero _reward_ you for your hard work tonight, Ariel."

"Matt, I," Sarah began feeling the blood rush to her cheeks. He was such a flirt. She wondered if she should say yes or politely refuse him to go him and study for another audition. With her response on the tip of her tongue, something made her stop. Suddenly the sound of a large bird's wings caught her attention. All of Matt's nuzzling and nibbling on her neck became background noise as her eyes alighted on the white barn owl atop the fire escape in the alley. In the moonlight, the paleness of its coat almost appeared iridescent; the bird's large black eyes blinked once. _What is an owl doing here in the city?_ Sarah thought as she stared at it. The bird cocked its head to the side as if to say, "You know why I'm here."

Just as suddenly as it appeared, the owl screeched so loud that it cut through the din of late evening traffic. Sarah jumped in Matt's arms, but her amour didn't seem to notice. The owl took off on silent wings to search out its evening meal. As the cry echoed against the steel and brick of the city, the owl swooped over Sarah's head and she squeezer her eyes shut tightly. In that moment, Sarah felt like the mouse too frightened to scurry and hide from this natural predator. She imagined its claws plucking her from the ground, the tips digging deep into her body and crushing her bones. Rising into the night sky, her life was forfeit to its greedy, razor sharp beak and gullet. She heard a dark laugh whisper by her ear, and she shuddered internally. Then the moment had passed.

Opening her eyes, she didn't see the owl. She didn't hear its cry or wings. There was only her, Matt, and the New York City evening. Why would a barn owl make her feel mortally afraid? Birds had never frightened her before… Had it even been there to begin with? Her questions hung on a hook in her mind waiting for an answer that would never come as Matt drew her into a kiss.

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[**Author's Note**: Reconnaissance Jareth, Go! Scared Sarah, Go! So, we have a post-college Sarah with a love interest… and a scowling barn owl. Good times, good times. In all seriousness, dear reader, you knew William Shakespeare would be cropping up in this fanfic. You may also be wondering why Sarah seems to have forgotten our glittery and feathery antagonist. Good question to ask, isn't it? Excuse me while I corral the plot bunnies…]


	3. The Choices We Make

**Disclaimer: **All references to the characters Jareth & Sarah and the film _Labyrinth_ belong to Jim Henson Studios and other pertinent parties. I do not claim ownership to the characters and / or the original source material.

**A/N #1: **Thank you to everyone for the kind reviews thus far. Rather than update next week when I get back from my trip, I decided to update before I leave. See y'all next week for Chapter 3! - p.s.

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**King, Queen, Rook, Maze: Chapter 2. The Choices We Make**

Sarah hung up the phone and suppressed a squeal of excitement. Giddy, she jumped up and down in the apartment she shared with Matthew. Aragorn, Matthew's cat since his undergraduate years as an English major and aspiring actor, ignored the human as best he could; sleep was more important. Quietly, she danced for joy so as not to bother her boyfriend of a year and a half. Sarah needed a new roommate; Matt needed a place to stay once his lease was up. The living arrangements were more out of need than a mutual desire to speed their relationship along. Sarah had had her doubts at first, but eventually, she found her doubts laid to rest by Matt's constant presence. Together, they managed to survive living in such a large city. Sarah eagerly pursued any roles coming her way while Matthew had chosen to hang up his actor's mask and pursued the hope of becoming an English professor. She heard him chuckle from the doorway of their office in the tiny extra bedroom.

"All right, all right, have out with it, you fiend," he teased. At that Sarah gave a cry of happiness and threw her arms around him. She smothered him in a kiss that led to more than one. Between kisses, Matthew was able to get out, "You got the part?"

"I got the part!" Sarah crowed. She planted another kiss on his mouth before pulling away slightly. "Oh, Matt, this is fantastic!"

"When do they want you down there?" His smile faded a tad. They had been discussing what they would do if Sarah got the part. The part was good, the money was even better, but Matt seemed to dislike having Sarah so far away for his most demanding semester yet.

"In a few months, but Matt, I don't have to stay down there. I can travel back to Brooklyn from DC during the week and see you and Aragorn." At the mention of his name, the cat languidly opened a green eye and closed it again. Such was the life of their black tabby cat. Ignoring the mangy beast, Sarah continued, "It won't cost much if I take the bus. The train can do in a pinch, too. Plus you can stay and start work on your thesis. You may actually enjoy the silence after all the fuss I've made recently."

Matthew shook his head and chuckled. "I doubt that, but why don't we grab dinner to celebrate? I could use a break… In more ways than one." In the blink of an eye, Matt became the romantic lead. His hands found the right spots on her body, and he began to dip her as he kissed her deeply. A loud hiss shattered the romantic moment for the young couple. Matt pulled Sarah back up as he stared quizzically at his cat. "Aragorn?"

Sarah turned to see the cat in full defense mode glaring and hissing at the mirror over the couch. Sarah walked over to calm the frightened and angry cat, but Aragorn turned to swipe at her with claws bared. She glanced at the mirror and thought she saw something strange as Matt asked behind her, "What's his problem? He never swipes at you. Bad kitty. Don't swipe at the hand that feeds you."

* * *

"Sarah… I can't do this anymore," Matthew said over the cell phone. His voice was tight as if strained from drinking excessively and crying. _Probably both_, Sarah thought bitterly. Months had passed and the production was finishing dress rehearsals. Sarah had snuck away to call Matthew back. He had been calling insistently today, which was odd. Last week she had barely heard from him at all. She had chalked it up to finals week and finishing up the semester. He had a tendency to hole himself up to study and write.

When he answered the phone, Sarah's heart began to sink. Something was wrong. A bitter voice in her head scolded her – _You knew better. You knew he would do this. You doubted. You knew that the minute you trusted him, that you admitted he would be _the one,_ that things were better again, that he wouldn't hurt you this way again__… You never should've loved him. Never. Never. Never. _

"I'm coming home in a week, Matt," she pleaded. "Can't we discuss this when I'm home?" There was a long pause, and Sarah felt her heart plummet into a dark pit. She took a breath and tried to calm her nerves. A mask of emotion slipped onto her face. Her voice carried a flatness that wasn't there a minute ago. "Matthew… What did you do?"

"I… I got drunk the other night… and one thing led to another… with Monica. Y'know, from my Romantics class?" She heard him stifle a noise in his throat.

"I remember her." Sarah felt her throat clenching and the world crumbling at her feet. Heavily she sat down on the carpenter's horse left back stage by the stage hands. "You cheated on me?" He didn't respond. She didn't have to say "again." The first time had been bad enough... and she had taken him back.

"How many times?" she prodded. "For how long?"

"Off and on for two months now…Sarah, I'm so sorry. Sarah, you weren't here… And we had been fighting."

"And grad school was hard. And you just decided to stick your dick into whatever gave you attention! And you didn't care about how I would feel! Or about what we had! And you… And you…" The anger had caught up to her. She had been shouting into the phone. She bit her tongue before she said anything worse.

"And I'm sorry, Sarah. Please, can you just… come home? To stay?"

Sarah was quiet for a minute. She only had the bed, a few of her clothes, and a red leather bound book from long ago with her here in DC; at the apartment, she had the rest of her clothes and a handful of other important things she had taken with her from her father's house. Thankfully, she had had to resort to renting a room with a fellow cast member in the DC area while preparing for her latest role – a leading role in _Much Ado About Nothing_. The weather had turned foul quickly with a winter snowstorm around Thanksgiving, and DC didn't handle snow well at all. That had made traveling back to see Matthew in the past few weeks difficult. Even now, travel was possible but not ideal. According to the ever unreliable weatherman, a storm threatened the East Coast again, and this time, New York City was set to be hit. Aside from weather and travel, the performances could make her dream career a reality; another feather in her cap that would lead to greater things. To give it up on the cusp of the opening performance would be career suicide. She would never get the same kind of role in New York or anywhere else if she up and left. It would be like taking a leap backwards off a cliff. _Or fall through a room of twisting stairs, _her inner voice offered sadly. Sarah ignored the memory.

"Matt, I have to go. I hear them calling for me on stage," Sarah lied in a soft voice. "I'll call you tomorrow morning. Bye."

She hung up the phone before Matt could plead, protest, and beg her to change her mind. Sarah took a trembling sigh and realized her left palm hurt. She looked down to see moon-shaped marks in her palm where her fingernails had dug into her flesh. _I'll… call him tomorrow and tell him that I want him out of the apartment for a few hours when I stop by this weekend. I'll ask him not to call me the rest of the week unless it's an emergency._ She paused in her thoughts and blinked to clear her vision. _Am I making the right decision here? _Numbly,Sarah decided she would figure that out later; for the moment, she wanted to quietly cry her eyes out. So she did.

* * *

"Aragorn, stop growling at the mirror," Sarah scolded the black cat in a hushed voice. Unceremoniously, she crammed her clothes into her suitcase and bags. She had already packed her books and knick knacks. She saw no need to take other things she had bought to decorate and furnish the apartment. A few phone calls during the week, and Sarah had only found one friend to help her move things to her new apartment in DC. Everyone else didn't want to "pick sides," which Sarah found to be incredibly sophomoric. Her one friend, Megan, had decided to wait downstairs in the lobby while Sarah finished packing in the bedroom.

In typical cat fashion, Aragorn ignored the human's command. The human couldn't see the strangeness in the mirror – the man-like thing staring out at her. This strange thing had invaded his territory on several occasions, and the cat did not like it one bit.

With a huff, Sarah rubbed at her eyes. _All of this… Gone in an instant, _she thought to herself bitterly. _I thought I could trust him. I thought he would be hunky dory by himself; that he would enjoy a semester without me pestering him to help me learn lines or practice monologues for auditions. I thought… after Jeremy that I had learned not to fall so hard for someone. I guess there is a lesson here…somewhere…_ She let the train of thought die as she looked at her idle hands.

At some point, she had finished with her clothes and zipped the bags closed. Wearily, she turned to the dresser with her jewelry box and the silent music box with the dancer in the white ball gown. She touched the dancer's worn face and greying dress. The music box had died years ago when Sarah let Toby wind it. All it took was the one time, and the too-tightly-wound spring had snapped. Sarah didn't have the heart to destroy the box to get at the music player inside. So, she chose to leave it alone – a reminder of her childhood dreams of romance and love, of how easily things can be broken.

Somehow the music box with its dancer had survived all of her moves – out of her father's home to a college apartment. From the apartment she briefly shared with a married man, Sarah had moved to a hotel room in a city across the country to "find herself" again. From there, she had moved into this apartment with another person she thought loved her. Once filled with love in a bustling metropolis, the apartment felt empty and broken. Now the music box would go with her to a new apartment, hours away, one where she would hopefully piece her heart back together again. The dancer remained poised to turn and dance to the soft plunking of metal against metal that created a melody. Underneath the canopy of false mirrors and plastic painted to look like gold, she would stare at her reflection and dance without truly moving. Except she would never dance to the song anymore, and that thought made something break a little more in Sarah's heart.

A guttural hiss broke through her thoughts just as she imagined the music box's dancer turning to that familiar song from her childhood.

"Shoo, Aragorn. You're just spooking yourself again," Sarah muttered as she reached out to push the black cat aside. So intent on glaring at its reflection in the mirror, Aragorn barely acknowledged the gentle push. Sarah's voice broke. "Oh, sweet kitty, can't you just… be yourself again? I'm going to miss you, you big ball of black fluff."

As Sarah's hand rested on his raised hackles, Aragorn growled low in a warning. She had never lived with a cat until she had moved in with Matt. She had found Aragorn's furry presence in her life comforting. She wished the cat would offer her comfort now, but the last few times she had disrupted Aragorn from his… weirdness, the cat had almost taken her hand off.

"Why does this always happen, Aragorn?" she asked the cat. "Why do I always find someone… and then they rip my heart out?" Her voice hitched in the middle of the sentence as the tears she had tried to hold back all day began to fall. "Just when something good happens for my acting, something like bad this always happens, too. It's uncanny." _And unfair_, her inner voice said despondently.

The cat turned to bite her, but Sarah didn't react. Instinctively, Aragorn stopped from biting her to lick her hand as if to say, "Hey. Leave off. I love you, too, but I'm busy defending you from _it_."

"Fie, evil beast," she mocked as she pulled her hand away. She rubbed the spot where his scratchy tongue had been. She smiled a little. "Fare thee well, Aragorn of Apartment 42B. Defend the kingdom from mice and cockroaches. Live a happy kitty life. May you exact my revenge on He Who Shall Not Be Named." _I wish I could take you with me, but you aren't mine to take away, _saidher inner voice. _ I hope you punish that jerk for me, too. Go pee on his bed or something. _

Sarah turned her attention to the mirror and examined herself for a moment. She had been trying to avoid seeing her reflection all afternoon, but now she couldn't. Something drew her eyes to it. Cautiously, she reached out to touch her reflection's red rimmed eyes, tear stained cheeks, and sore bottom lip from biting back the sobs for a week. Her loose pony tail had let wisps of hair fly free to frame her face.

"I look like hell…" she mused out loud. Tears blurred her vision as she muttered to herself, "Why do I always fall for these tricksters and cheats with their pretty faces and prettier lies?"

"Sarah?" came Megan's voice from the hallway. "Matt's here and wants to know if you are done." There was a pregnant pause. "He wants to talk to you, too."

"I'll be down in five minutes," Sarah shouted back to her friend. She hoped her voice sounded confident. With a sniffle, she pulled her fingers away from the mirror, and she walked into the bathroom for a tissue. When she returned to the bedroom, she grabbed the broken jewelry box and her suitcase as she left. Sarah didn't notice the reflection in the mirror flicker to a different face, one she may (or may not) have recognized from long ago.

Aragorn tensed, hissed defensively, and renewed his vocal declaration of MY TERRITORY, MINE, GO AWAY. The Goblin King smirked at the defensive cat. He reached out of the mirror with a gloved hand, and he bopped the cat on the nose before vanishing completely. Aragorn leapt for safety under the bed feeling his insides twist, break, and crack. In his panic and fright, the cat sought safety, but it was no use. The pain grew then subsided as he scurried off into a small hole in the floorboards to live the rest of his life as a mouse.

* * *

[**A/N #2:** No snark today. In all seriousness, I hated doing that to the cat… No kitty deserves to be turned into a mouse by a bitter, crazy Goblin King. Chapters 3 & 4 will be more... Jareth-y. Promise. - p.s.]


	4. After Words

**Disclaimer:** All references to the characters Jareth & Sarah and the film _Labyrinth_ belong to Jim Henson Studios and other pertinent parties. I do not claim ownership to the characters and / or the original source material. Copyright of "The Man Who Sold the World," belongs to Bowie, _The Man Who Sold the World_. Producer: Tony Visonti. 1970. Cover by Nirvana in 1993.

Also, a quick thank you to everyone for waiting patiently for this chapter update. Hopefully it's worth the wait. See you next Thursday with another chapter! - p.s. 26/4/13

* * *

**King, Queen, Rook, Maze: Chapter 3. After Words**

Regardless of the snow falling gently outside, the heat was almost oppressive in the famous cultural landmark in DC's DuPont circle. Sarah hummed along to the music barely audible over the hum of the restaurant, bar, and bookstore. The musician was doing a broken down cover of David Bowie's "The Man Who Sold the World" to finish his set. The singer sounded more like Kurt Cobain than Bowie, but Sarah didn't mind. Sarah had wandered away from her friends and the beer to peruse the book selection.

To celebrate the production's last performance and her twenty-seventh birthday, her roommate Tim and fellow cast member Ashley had coaxed Sarah out into the public. They had been good friends from the start and supportive following her break up with Matt a few months ago. Tonight they had decided to get her as close to drunk as they could for the sheer Hell of it. They failed, but the night was still young. There were other bars and they had money in their pockets for cabs. At the moment, Sarah felt a little tipsy from the two (or was it three?) beers. It made for an interesting perspective as she looked at the abundance of books. She smiled to herself at the thought of drunken book shopping.

Dressed in a ubiquitous little black dress, she turned a few heads as she moved through the crowded bookstore, but she ignored them. She found a quiet corner in the travel section. She picked up a copy of a book that looked pretty and began to flip through it. Then she felt someone accidentally bump into her. Sarah muttered a "Sorry" and stepped away without taking her nose out of the book.

"I'm sorry, but do I… know you?" an accented male voice caught her attention. Sarah looked up to see a man with short blond hair slicked back in a black dress coat and tailored shirt. He had loosened his stylish blue tie and unbuttoned his collar to reveal a small amount of collarbone. He looked slightly out of place in spite of being dressed like a few other men in the bookstore. She couldn't see his hands; they were tucked into his pant pockets. He didn't seem to have an overcoat.

"Possibly…" she replied cautiously. Maybe it was the beer, but he was handsome. _A dangerous kind of handsome,_ Sarah mused internally.

"I may have looked slightly different in the past," he offered with a grin.

"Hmm…" Sarah pursed her lips and decided to play along with him. _Tall, lean but muscular, strong jawline – just my type_, her tipsy mind suggested happily_._ Wasn't the end goal of Tim and Ashley's plan was to get her dating again? He also seemed to be intently looking at her, which made her feel strange. She hadn't been looked at in _that_ way since… well, in a long time. Even Matt hadn't looked at her with such a look of alluring desire. She brushed the memory of past amours away, and Sarah re-focused her attention on the man beside her. "Did we go to high school together?"

"No, but we met when you were around that age," he replied turning towards her. Instinctively Sarah matched his movement. He was slightly taller than her in her heels. _Perfect!_ "You were rather fond of daydreams of being an actress and other childish things. You would often recite lines of plays in the park by your home."

She couldn't place that accent. It certainly wasn't local, that was for sure. She liked it. A lot. She smiled. "You must be a friend of my father's then."

The man shook his head. "Heavens, no."

"My mother?" Sarah hedged. She prayed he had nothing to do with her biological or step mother.

His smile turned smug as he shook his head again. "I never had the pleasure of meeting her or your step-mother in person."

"All right, I give up. How do I know you?" Sarah asked grinning. She placed the book back on the shelf. "I feel like…" She felt a slight blush on her cheeks. The blush crept further down her neck making her feel warm all over. Nervously, she tucked her hair behind her ear. She felt like she was sixteen again flirting with her crush. Or that she was flirting with Professor Smith again. _No, this is more dangerous than that, more electric, _she thought. _I feel like I'm flirting with the Devil_. _Just like during those nights…_ She looked up at him through her dark eyelashes. "I feel like I've seen you in my dreams."

"Mayhap," he replied stepping closer to her. _He smelled good_, Sarah realized suddenly, _In that intoxicating, masculine way. _"I've been told I have a certain _effect_ on women." His emphasis on the word made her blush deepen from a rosy pink to a flush red.

"Must not have been that great of one if I can't remember you…" Sarah teased before noticing something. Curiosity piqued, the flirtatious woman vanished. "Oh, do you mind?"

She closed the remaining space between them before he could respond. Her eyes focused on something beyond him and Sarah failed to see the man tense ever so slightly. The hair she had tucked behind her ear slipped and fell in a cascade towards him. His eyes left her face and drifted downward in spite of himself. He stood frozen as Sarah reached out and plucked a white feather from between collar of his black shirt and coat.

"Now how in the world did that get there?" he said in a bemused voice. He watched Sarah's face as she examined the feather. She was close to him, so close he could simply reach out and… "Ah, well, it was so good to see you again, love. The goblins send their regards. By the by, how is my little Jareth doing in his studies?"

Sarah looked back at the strange man in front of her at the mention of _that_ name. The man's gaze had changed; his right eye changed from pale blue to hazel. Her face warred with blushing and paling. The man _was _from her most vivid dreams, the ones you didn't tell your friends about, the one that Tim teased her about that morning, and that particular one where she had wished Toby away to a strange land of fantastical creatures. _But he can't be real! _her inner voice protested. _He's a figment of my imagination! He's just… some imaginary guy! He can't be real! _

Before she could speak or move, he brushed her hair back over her should with a gloved hand. He leaned in closer to place his mouth near her bared ear. To the outside observer, he appeared to be an old friend (or lover) whispering something private to a beautiful woman. Yet his gloved, left hand held her upper right arm with enough force to stop Sarah from pulling away. She shivered once feeling his warm breath trail down her exposed neck.

"My cruel, sweet Sarah," he whispered quietly. "Twelve years ago, you made a wish and I granted it. I was generous. Oh, so generous." His grip on her arm relaxed, and he brushed his thumb over her bare skin.

"And you _exhausted_ me with your expectations. I gave you what you wanted – an adventure with you as the heroine and I was your alluring antagonist. I lived up to your extravagant expectations. All of it - For. You. And in return…" His grip tightened again and Sarah winced. His voice took on a menacing quality. "You _ruined my kingdom._"

Whether she shivered from the stab of fear running through her or from his nearness, Sarah wasn't sure. She swallowed, trying hard to find her voice. His anger and malice washed over her. A moment before she had been innocently flirting with him. Now he was speaking of… of a fantasy from her childhood. He was threatening her. Everything around them seemed to have grown silent as if time had stopped.

"You… you aren't real…" she breathed. She heard him chuckle – dark and sinister and seductive. As he pulled way, his other hand rose to cup her cheek in a mocking gesture of gentleness. His gaze lingered over her lips before his met her wide-eyed stare.

"I am _very_ real," he replied with a sneer. Sarah swallowed again as she stared into those hate-filled, mismatched eyes. He leaned in as if to kiss her, but he stopped with only millimeters to spare. "I won't be so gentle the next time we meet. I _will_ take back what is rightfully _mine._"

Sarah felt her heart racing. She closed her eyes and mentally wished for him to go away. The suddenness of the store's loudspeaker system buzzing to life drew her back to reality. "The store will close in fifteen minutes. Please put the book down and come back tomorrow or step up to the counter to make your purchase," the clerk drawled lazily. A long line at the cash register formed before the young man had even finished the announcement.

When Sarah opened her eyes, the man had vanished without a trace. A teenager stared at her for a moment then shrugged and went back to nosing through a comic. No one else in the bookstore seemed to have noticed. As her heart slowed from a gallop to a trot, a faint memory tickled her mind – one of a man answering her ill-spoken wish, a wish from a spoiled, resentful girl. He offered her a chance to win back that precious thing, for Toby. He had tried to stop her at every turn. He had her friend betray her; he seduced her with a dream. Yet she still made it to the center of the Labyrinth. In the end, he had become desperate. He had offered her his heart, and she had refused. She had to refuse in order to win Toby back. She thought it was simply a last ditch effort for him to win his little game. Her knees left like they would give out. Had she truly destroyed his kingdom?

"You have no power over me," she said quietly to herself. Faintly, she recalled the red leather book with gold, embossed lettering on its cover sitting on her pillow at home. The same book that had stayed tucked away in her vanity's drawer since the age of fifteen. The same book that had inspired her fantasy of wishing her brother Toby away to the Goblin King… She had made herself believe it was a dream. She had moved on with her life, and she had tucked the memory of goblins and kings away in the recesses of her mind. Yet, for twelve years, the book had always been within arm's reach at night, a silent reminder of "maybe it was real." Her fingers twitched without her thinking, itching to take up and find the truth in the little red leather book titled _Labyrinth_.

"Hey Sarah! We're leaving!" sang out Ashley's voice. "Sarah? What happened to the hot guy you were talking to? Did he disappear on you without giving you his number? You should've given him mine. Me_ow_." The teasing, drunk voice sounded far away to Sarah. Her friend stepped in front of her and into view. "Sarah? Are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Not a ghost," she whispered. Sarah chose to finish the sentence in her head - _Just the Goblin King_. Her audible response only made Ashley shrug and attempt to drag her back to the bar in the bookstore for last call.

* * *

[**A/N**: Mmmm… Kramer's. I miss the books and beer. Not so much the food, but the atmosphere was always delightful. Also, why is Jareth being a creeper? Buy the girl a beer already!]


	5. Nothing is What it Seems

**Disclaimer: **All references to the characters Jareth & Sarah and the film _Labyrinth_ belong to Jim Henson Studios and other pertinent parties. I do not claim ownership to the characters and / or the original source material.

**A/N:** There is a touch of lemon to this chapter. The scenarios are heavily suggestive without being explicit. If that is not your cup of tea, skip this chapter and wait for next week's update. - p.s.

* * *

**King, Queen, Rook, Maze: Chapter 4. Nothing is What it Seems**

A trio of goblins peered around a corner at their king and protector. He sat at the wind overlooking his kingdom. He seemed to be contemplating something as he rubbed a gloved thumb over the red line on his left wrist. They were worried about Jareth. Before the Champion came, Jareth laughed and danced with them. After the Champion, he didn't laugh as easily. He didn't join in their gamesYears ago, he had spent some time away looking for something; the goblins partied until partying grew boring. Then he came back and he had changed. Then he was taken away. The goblins had missed their King.

Now their king had returned, but he seemed more distant than ever. Even less laughter and games. The goblins were finding it difficult to follow him and dissension was growing in the ranks. He seemed to have enjoyed destroying the rag tag rebels of the forest, but that's all he seemed to enjoy now – punishment and pain. Even the other creatures of the Labyrinth had noted his changed demeanor and grew fearfully of their changed King.

Back in the throne room, the biggest goblin nudged the middle one. The middle glared back and nudged the smallest one.

"I won't do it," the smallest whispered as it pushed its helmet back. The comment brought a pair of fists down on its head. "Fine! Fine! I go!"

"Your Majesty?" asked the smallest goblin as it climbed the stairs. Jareth didn't turn to look at him. The goblin cleared its throat and tried again. "Your Majesty?"

"What is it?" The goblin flinched. The King didn't sound happy.

"We, um, I mean, Gob and Tot and I want to know… Well, we have this idea, see…. And we, well-"

"Out with it, Hale, or I will throw you into the bog of despair."

The smallest goblin smiled. The King was in a better mood! "Will you judge our dancing contest?"

Jareth sighed and shook his head. "No, Hale. Ask Nob to judge your contest."

"But he is meeting with the Cap'n! And we thought maybe you could do it! You used to! And we, um, And, well, Gob mostly, And…" The smallest goblin swallowed its fear and shut its eyes. Instead it felt a heavy gloved hand pat its helmeted head as Jareth walked by.

"I have a spell to weave and plans to make," he said walking into the throne room. "_She_ will be returning."

As if the Goblin King had suddenly burst into a boisterous song about sunshine and sparkles, all of the goblins in attendance turned to gape at their King. The briefest of silences fell, and Jareth wondered if he had imagined hearing a feather hit the slate floor. Then the spell broke and a cacophony of questions exploded all at once. Jareth let the excitement bubble up and over and it was on the verge of becoming a celebration when he lifted a hand for silence. Several minutes passed, but he chose to remain patient with his subjects. In the old days, he would have shouted and threatened. Then another minute passed.

"ENOUGH!" he shouted and the room stilled. "Prepare your weapons. Set up guards at the gates. Spread the word of a reward for her. Check all of the oubliettes and clean out the tunnels." The King gave a flash of a grin. "We want to give her a warm welcome, don't we?"

The throne room exploded again with cheers, jeers, questions, shouts, and fights. Without bothering to answer or deny anything, Jareth walked to his chambers. The goblins had had very little to do as of late. No one had wished a child away in years (and they had gone sick of throwing the Fae ambassador in various bogs about the kingdom). The mere mention of _her_ was enough to get them moving. He would check on their progress on the morrow… and oust any rebellious factions that remained in the forests.

"Thirteen years," the Goblin King mused and his thoughts lingered on his enemy. The corners of his lips pulled upward at the thought of his plan of revenge. A menacing smile graced his lips as he imagined a broken Sarah at his mercy. With a wave of his hand, the massive doors to his private chambers closed behind him silently. As he entered his rooms, a rustle of wind stirred the drapes, curtains, and tattered rugs hanging from the stone walls. He glanced towards the closed window and moved to the center of his rooms. Patiently, he waited for the Labyrinth to collect itself. When it did not manifest itself in a physical form, Jareth crossed his arms and glared at a faint shimmer before him.

"Why do you not manifest yourself fully?" he asked with irritation creeping into his tone of voice.

"Why do you continue to delay?" the low voice asked equally irritated.

"These things take time," Jareth replied as if to a child. "She is not to be underestimated."

The Labyrinth huffed. The wind ruffled Jareth's hair. "We are incomplete. We grow impatient with your plan."

"Be patient. The opportune moment is approaching."

He felt the Labyrinth's presence melt away into the sunlight streaming through the window. When the ancient magic had faded completely from the room, Jareth ground his teeth for a moment. _Troublesome and meddlesome and impatient… You continue to dare question your lord and protector?_ he thought bitterly. However, the Goblin King knew that without the Labyrinth, he would have nothing again, a King without a Kingdom.

With a gesture of dismissal, he set to work creating a spell for his plan of revenge. Using a spider web dipped in dew drops as the base, He pulled threads from starlight, moonlight, and sunlight. He added a touch of an autumn morning hoarfrost and spring laced with the scent of apple blossoms. He wove in a finger's measure of darkness and deception into his elaborate illusion. Stepping back, he admired his handiwork before gently breathing the spell to life. _It will do, _his inner voice stated succinctly. His mouth broke into a satisfied grin. With a bend of his wrist, he wrapped the glamour spell into a crystal ball, which he vanished away for safe keeping. He smiled at the thought of being one step closer to achieving his vengeance against the raven haired girl who had turned his world upside-down.

Suddenly, a shudder ran through his whole body and sweat trickled down his brow. _My endurance is not what it used to be,_ he thought miserably. Or perhaps he felt tired from his days of traversing the Labyrinth. Or perhaps it was the restless nights. Or perhaps it was the gnawing emptiness clawing at his chest and the pang of guilt that tasted of iron on his brain. His plan was elaborate, and for the moment, a good night's rest sounded the best course of action. Granted, it was midday, but he really didn't care. Without bothering to remove his clothes, he fell into bed and closed his eyes.

* * *

_Cold, hesitant fingertips trailed down his bare back; then they gently massaged the tension out of his muscles one by one. The fingers and hands were soft against his skin, and they grew warmer with each purposeful touch. The fingers found a knot in his shoulder and began to apply a delicious amount of pressure to worry it away. He sighed, grateful and appreciative, and melted further into the comfortable bed. She laughed softly, not maliciously but amused as her hands continued to minister to his body's needs. There was trust in those hands. He turned his head to see her better out of the corner of his eye. _

"_Feel better?" she asked in a smooth voice tinged with a girlishness and innocence he craved. Her hands pressed into his shoulders as she leaned her upper body over his back. Through her t-shirt, her breasts brushed over him. Her curtain of dark hair tickled his bare neck. The tease was too much for him as the dream shifted again._

"_Almost," he muttered with a sly grin. He shifted underneath her and she rose slightly to let him turn to lie on his back. As he put his hands behind his head, she settled back down to sit on his stomach. He smiled as he admired the view – her dark hair framing her oval face, her green eyes warm in the afternoon light. He didn't feel guilty for once (and Jareth's conscious mind wondered vaguely why he would feel guilty at all). She smiled, blushed, and tucked some of that luscious dark hair behind a delicate ear. She no longer wore a t-shirt, but an unbuttoned, man's dress shirt. He didn't want that moment to end, but it did. The dream shifted again. Afternoon became evening. An abundance of pillows disappeared. Her image faded into muted darkness so only her outline teased him. __His smile became a mischievous grin as he brought his hands forward to rest on her curvaceous hips. _

"_I can think of something else that would make me feel better," he suggested. __He pushed her slightly back._

_A laugh escaped from that beautiful throat, a light alto that tempted him further. More mature than the girlish one from before. His warm hands slipped underneath her shirt to touch her bare skin. She did not stop him. Leaning over, she brought her lips to his and he drank like a man parched. With her in easy reach, he slipped his hands to her front and gave a gentle squeeze. She gasped into his mouth and then smiled drawing away. She pulled back and wiggled her hips with (he knew without seeing) a smug grin, a knowing one that women gained when they knew they had the upper hand. He grinned in response even if he wanted to growl in frustration and need._

"_Mmmm… Do we have time?" Her green eyes sparkled with mischief. Her voice held a husky tone edged in playfulness. Her hips shifted again and his ardor grew. He couldn't say no to this vixen in his midst. _

"_We have all the time in the world, love," Jareth breathed. Next he knew a line of kisses trailed down his neck to his collarbone and under his jaw. She nipped at his ear and whispered another promise. He could take it no more. And then the Goblin King was over her and devouring her body with an animalistic need that Jareth didn't quite understand._

* * *

She lay in bed staring at the ceiling trying to piece the dream back together. Sarah had woken up feeling restless, hungry, and anxious in the hotel room across the Atlantic. The dream had started out as a memory – the time when she had massaged her high school boyfriend Max's back in the grassy park by her Father's home. Then the dream had morphed into another memory. Instead of Max, the man became Dr. Jeremy Smith and she was astride him in the bed he shared with his wife. It was one of their afternoon rendezvous when his wife had a faculty meeting. Then Jeremy had spoken in Matt's voice (the comment was a-typical of Jeremy but the norm for Matt). He had been there but for a moment before the dream shifted a third time. In the end, over and under her had been the Goblin King.

Sarah rolled out of bed and trudged to her tiny bathroom in the hotel room. The morning sunlight bathed the room in a cold glow. The dream had been so vivid. His bare hands had been on every inch of her except where she desperately had wanted them. His lips found hers over and over again. Clothes had vanished. Sheets were thrown off the bed. She remembered pleading with him to stop teasing her, but he held back. _Not yet, love, not yet_, he had said. At some point, Sarah remembered, she had breathed his name like a sigh and had said asked him something. Mismatched eyes stared into hers filled with surprise, hurt, and then anger. Then there was a flash of pain and the dream had ended.

Leaning over the bathroom sink, Sarah tried to smooth out her mess of tangled black hair. When she brushed her hair back over her shoulder, her eyes alighted on a mark in the hollow of her neck. It looked as if someone had bitten her. Sharp canines had left small indents along side smoother lines of human teeth. She touched the bite mark gingerly. It would be sore for a day or two, but thankfully she could hide the mark under her clothing. No one would be the wiser. She would have to carry her travel bag on her other shoulder, too.

"This is new…" she muttered to herself. Things had changed since she had seen the Goblin King. She had started to remember; she had started to believe. With remembering and believing, dreams of Jareth had also been increasing with frequency over the past few months. Often they piggy backed on old memories – ones of Dr. Smith especially. They looked uncannily similar hence her attraction to the married man years ago (or so she told herself now). Some of the dreams were innocent; most weren't. They had never been so… intense. So real. Sarah felt her body flush as she touched where his canines had left the deepest impression. The anniversary of her wish was three months away, and she wondered if she would be ready for whatever would happen.

Sarah turned to start the shower and undress. She forced herself not to think about how the Goblin King seemed different, what had happened in those dreams, and what was yet to come.

* * *

Something smashed against the door. Hale jumped back and began to quake in his armor. A colorful array of curses in various tongues from the Under Ground bled through the thick oak door. The small goblin Hale couldn't piece together the reason why, but he heard a certain name over and over again. Then it grew quiet. Hale knew that was an even worse sign. His shaking almost caused him to drop his spear, and he scrambled to catch it before it hit the ground. Now was definitely NOT a good time to tell his Majesty that Nob had returned with a report. The smallest goblin turned on his heels and ran for the safest cubby hole he could find.

Inside his chambers, the Goblin King glared at the black crystal vase thrown against the oak door. Shards littered the ornate rug and sparkled in the daylight streaming through his window. His anger burned cold yet his desire remained hot. He had let his defenses down and she had been there. Somehow, she had drawn him into her dream like a moth to a flame. Somehow, it had been all too easy to give into her, to let Lust override his Pride and Anger. He tried not to think about her – dark on light, green eyes and flushed cheeks, the curves and dips and swells of her body, skin against skin, and the warmth and wetness and… Oh, how she had wanted him. The sound of her breathy voice saying his name replayed in his head, and automatically his body reacted.

With a smug expression, he ignored the sheets and his clothes scattered on the floor. He fell back onto his bed. She had gotten the best of him, but… his tongue touched his canines with a flash of satisfaction. He hoped he had gotten his point across to her, and that her question had been answered. He inhaled the smell of seduction and desire lingering on his pillows. Far away, something hitched painfully at the thought of bedding Sarah, but in his chest, he felt nothing. The Goblin King smirked and let his mind wander.


	6. The Quiet Before the Storm

**Disclaimer**:All references to the characters Jareth & Sarah and the film _Labyrinth_ belong to Jim Henson Studios and other pertinent parties. I do not claim ownership to the characters and / or the original source material.

**A/N: **I would like to extend a quick thank you to everyone who has reviewed, followed, and favorited this story thus far. It's a small validation that someone out there enjoys this story as much as I do. So, again, thank you for taking the time to read my story. Oh, and sadly, no snark A/N for this chapter. – p.s.

**King, Queen, Rook, Maze: Chapter 5. The Quiet Before the Storm**

After the humid heat and hot sun, Sarah shivered as the sweat dried on her back in the air conditioned theater. _Midwestern summers are just as bad as Midwestern winters_, she thought with an eye roll. She had taken the job in Chicago without realizing how drastically different the area was from the East Coast. When she had been in London for her short stint in a production in the West End, the idea of moving back to America (and further West) had seemed like a great idea. Now she wondered what she had been thinking. The Lake helped on occasion, but the weatherman promised no relief from the heat. Wearing a yellow sun dress and sandals, she settled into a seat next to Mike in the front row. He gave her a grin as she pulled her hair off her sweaty neck and into a high ponytail. He looked comfortable in his shorts, t-shirt, and shades. For some reason, he didn't have a drop of sweat on him.

"How can you stand it?" she asked him quietly.

"I can't, but that's why I get here early enough to not look like a hot mess," he replied patting a tote bag hanging from his chair. His hazel eyes smiled and he winked at her. "I packed a bag for the beach after this meeting. Care to join me?"

"Thanks for the advice, O wise one," she said sarcastically. "Unless you packed a suit for me, I don't think the other beach goers or the lifeguards would appreciate me running around in my skivvies."

"The police, a number of heterosexual males, and myself certainly wouldn't mind."

"Mike, you're absolutely-"

"Incorrigible," came Gerry's dry, deadpan response from behind them. Mike and Sarah turned to see Gerry pointing towards the stage. They both turned back to see the theater's diminutive half-Irish director, Brian McNamara, glaring at them. The taller man beside the director seemed unfazed by the whole situation. Everyone else in attendance were either stifling laughs or smiling wickedly at the two. Mike and Sarah muttered an apology as if they had been caught canoodling by their parents. Sarah felt the need to somehow blend in with her seat as she willed herself not to sink into it to hide her embarrassment.

"Welcome everyone. Thank you for taking the time out of your busy," the director began and then fixed a glare at Mike. "And not so busy schedules to attend this impromptu meeting. As you all know, we'll be starting our run of _Midsummer's _this Friday night. I look forward to seeing it fully on opening night. We'll also be starting to prepare for the next play at the end of the month."

"Get on with it!" Gerry said in a stage whisper. The crowd assembled tried not to crack.

"All right, all right," McNamara said a little flustered. He stopped fidgeting with his fingers. "The reason for our impromptu meeting is this – I've been informed that our Oberon, Zachary, and his understudy Jamie have come down with a nasty case of food poisoning. They spent the night in the hospital and have been advised by medical staff to rest for the week."

Everyone groaned in unison. A few of the other actors voiced their opinions on the matter while others just shook their heads. Sarah rubbed at her temple and came away with a film of sweat on her fingertips. She made a disgusted face and wished she had a handkerchief.

"This entire production has been plagued with bad luck," muttered Sarah to Mike, leaning over ever so slightly so only Mike would hear her. "First, the original set design catches fire. Then Michelle trips and breaks her leg. Now this..."

"I doubt it was food poisoning…" he muttered back. "You know how those two can get… _carried away_." He added a suggestive wink for emphasis. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the tall man on stage lift a single, thin eyebrow in her direction. She pulled away from Mike and tried to stifle a laugh with a smile.

"But we're in luck," said Director McNamara in a raised voice. The audience quieted. "Everyone, I would like to introduce J. Jerome Rochester." Mr. McNamara gestured towards the man in the summer outfit of a white shirt and khakis beside him. "We are fortunate that Mr. Rochester decided to spend some time in Chicago before returning to London by way of New York. He has an extensive history on stage, which I am sure he would be happy to share with all of you later." Mr. McNamara put on his greatest smile as he extended his hand to Mr. Rochester. "We are _delighted_ to have you here, Mr. Rochester."

Applause started slowly as the two men shook hands. Mr. Rochester smiled. Mr. McNamara clapped too loudly after releasing the other man's hand. No one was fooled, but everyone joined in applauding. To pull such an act was unheard of. Sarah could sense a simmering unease and genuine dislike rippling underneath the false smiles and dying applause. The greatest wave came off of Mike.

"You have _got_ to be kidding me," he muttered under his breath. Sarah suppressed a nod as she assessed the man on stage. " 'Extensive history on stage,' my ass. Have you ever heard of this guy 'cause I sure as heck haven't."

Mike had every reason to be upset. He had spent a few years playing leads here at the theater before Zachary started sleeping with an investor. Then Zachary had "magically" gotten the role of Oberon. Director McNamara used the lame excuse of having his hands tied, and in the end, Mike had felt that the rug had been pulled out from underneath him. Now to have some unknown step in and take the spotlight again… Sarah stayed quiet. She had only known Mike for a few short months, and he had also been the first one to warm up to her when she had arrived. All it took was Mike's approval, and she was a member of the team, so to speak. However, she learned quickly after from a night of card games and one too many beers that Mike was a sore loser.

"A pleasure to meet you all," the man said in a clear British accent. He didn't seem to realize that Director McNamara had thrown him into a hornet's nest. _Or maybe he did and he's just pretending to be perfectly at ease_, Sarah thought as she looked him up and down. "I look forward to working with all of you. However, I had hoped it would be under more auspicious and professional circumstances."

With those smooth words, Sarah noted how the crowed seemed appeased. No smile graced the man's lips. His words had been sincere even if they seemed cold and stiff. Sarah wondered what Mr. Rochester would be like as Oberon to her Titiana. She glanced at Mike and found him frowning.

"Because of these changes, I'd like to do an informal run through of the performance this afternoon to help Mr. Rochester prepare," stated McNamara. Groans started immediately. "I understand. This is impromptu. It's not mandatory, but if you do show up, you will be _compensated_ for your time." The groans stopped. McNamara smiled. "If you have any concerns, my office door will be open an hour before the run-through tonight. If you have any questions, I'll be happy to answer them now or then. Otherwise, you are all dismissed until rehearsal."

And with that, the crowd of actors and stagehands and other theater professionals were freed. Some went directly to the stage to talk to McNamara and Rochester; others hung back. Sarah turned to Mike, and he to her. She shrugged her bare shoulders. In a matter of fact tone of voice, she said, "I haven't heard of him."

"I have," Gerry said behind them. He leaned forward and stuck his head between them. He dropped his voice as he spoke. "And I saw him in New York over the summer in _The Taming of the Shrew_. He's completely different on stage, as if he _was_ the character. He's good; seemed to really enjoy torturing the actress playing Cat. Strange to have him _here_ though… and now. He's like a swarthy, theatrical Super Man come to rescue us."

"Do you think another investor pulled some strings?" Mike asked in a bitter tone. Gerry shrugged. Mike scowled. "I swear this theater is going to run itself into the ground if investors have their way. I should-"

Sarah placed her hand on Mike's forearm to calm him. "Now, Mike…"

"Miss Williams? Will you please join us?" cried the director from the stage. He wore that false smile of his as if the heat of the outdoors somehow plagued him inside the building. , on the other hand, was trying not to run for the exits away from Molly Carey, the theater's resident assistant costumer and busybody. Her wild blond curls hung limply from being out in the summer's heat and humidity. Her ever present cloth tape measure was draped over her neck like a shawl, and she was madly taking notes on her note pad. Since Michelle could only hobble around on crutches with her leg in a cast, Molly had assumed the role of head costumer (and bent a few noses out of shape in the process).

"So much for my fun," Mike said patting her hand on his arm. A warm smile crept onto his lips as he met Sarah's gaze. "If you change your mind about the beach, I'll stick around for a few minutes?"

"Sorry, but I have errands to run before rehearsal tonight," she said while rising and taking her hand back. Sarah gave Mike a smile to ease the pain of her refusal. "Maybe next time and with more notice" She paused and winked at him. "You can always take Gerry with you."

Dour Gerry smiled at that one as she turned to go up on stage. She hadn't seen Mike's expression, and she didn't need to. Sarah turned her attention to Mr. McNamara and Mr. Rochester, now freed from Molly's tape measure and note pad.

"Miss Williams, I would like to personally introduce you to your new Oberon, Mr. Rochester," McNamara said as she walked into the stage. Mr. Rochester held out his hand to her, and she shook it confidently. Thankfully he didn't try to be debonair and attempt to kiss her hand. _At least he is taking this seriously, _she mused. _He's tall. Good shoulders. Dark hair and dark eyes and olive skin. A touch of Rhett He's definitely good looking enough to play Oberon. He might actually fit into Zachary's costume… _Sarah noted the tailored pants and shirt. _Or he may be able to supply his own suit for the performance._

"I saw you as Lady Macbeth in London, Ms. Williams," he said eying her as if assessing her for the first time. "You seemed to relish the role."

"It's not every day one gets to play an ambitious queen who goads her husband to regicide," Sarah replied in a frank manner.

"And cruel."

"Pardon?"

"An ambitious and cruel queen, Ms. Williams." The corner of his lip curled as if amused. His dark eyes, however, held no amusement. "You were good at playing that fine line between a devious femme fatale and a vulnerable woman desiring your gender's more natural inclinations while also fighting them."

"I'm flattered," she replied in a tone of voice that suggested she wasn't. Defensively, she crossed her arms. This guy set her on edge.

"Don't be. I said you were good… not great," he responded with a smile. He seemed amused at her obvious discomfiture. Sarah clenched her jaw. _Something is not right here_, she thought to herself, but for the life her, she couldn't put her finger on it.

"I'm sorry, but you have me at a disadvantage. I have never heard of you," she retaliated with a lift of her chin in defiance. Mr. Rochester shrugged as the director blanched.

"Now, Sarah," the director began.

"It's quite fine, Mr. McNamara," Rochester said. "I run in slightly different circles from you, Miss Williams. I don't perform Shakespeare as often as you do, but I am familiar with the playwright." He tilted his head slightly. "Also, I was merely curious when I caught your performance in London, and I'm glad that I did. I didn't mean to offend."

"Hm," Sarah responded. "Well, I look forward to this evening and acting with you on stage. How long did you say you were going to be with us?"

"Oh, only for the first week of performances," McNamara cut in. "Or until Zachary or Jamie recover." The director sighed. "I warned those two about that new sushi place in Boy's Town."

Sarah suppressed the desire to slap her hand to her face in frustration. Instead she smiled stiffly. _Of course, McNamara, sushi done them in_, she thought sarcastically. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mr. Rochester give a questioning look to her and the director.

"May I walk out with you, Miss Williams?" he asked out of the blue instead. Sarah raised an eyebrow at him. He turned to McNamara. "If we are done, I assume. You have already given me the tour of the place and were kind enough to call this impromptu meeting. It seems no one else wishes to speak with me, and I have some business to attend to before rehearsal this evening."

"Ah, yes, we are done," McNamara replied with a nod of his head. Relief was plain on his face. Sarah knew McNamara would have a few people to calm down before the impromptu rehearsal that evening (and a few phone calls to make). He hurried to the wings as he called out, "I'll see you both this evening."

"Of course," Sarah agreed and waved good-bye to McNamara. Left on stage with Mr. Rochester, she felt rather awkward standing next to the man. She started to walk towards the exit and Mr. Rochester followed.

"So… I assume Brian explained the production?" Sarah offered.

"Yes," he replied. "But I would like to hear your perspective on it. Producing _Midsummers _in a 1940s setting is rather… " He trailed off and made a gesture with his hand as if searching for a word.

"Inventive and creative," Sarah said confidently after a moment. "You'll be impressed with what the set designers and costumers have done."

Sarah held the door for the man and looked away to wave good-bye to another staff member. They walked through and into the lobby towards the entrance. She continued the conversation amicably, "In a way, it forces the audience to consider how the play's themes relate to our modern society. In others, it forces us to focus on the words and our actions on stage. For us, at least, we don't have to worry about pretending to be otherworldly Fae playing with the lives and loves of humans. We're simply human beings playing with the lives of other human beings. It is up to us to make the audience believe the otherworldly is possible."

Sarah could see McNamara's outline outside the door while he smoked a cigarette. How he had avoided them and appeared out front never failed to surprise her. Of course, the manager knew his theater, but his ability to randomly appear out of nowhere always surprised her. Apparently he had more to say to either Rochester or her. She prayed it was the former. She slowed her steps in order to enjoy the air conditioning and avoid the inevitable confrontation with Brian. He wanted her to stay on as a permanent member, but Sarah hesitated to accept.

"Mr. Rochester, I-" she said turning to him.

"Call me John," he said with a smile that reached his eyes for the first time. "I hadn't thought of this production in that way… Thank you for enlightening me."

"Oh, you're welcome."

"This heat is so oppressive," he grumbled staring at the door. His shift in mood from professional to personal surprised Sarah a little.

"Nothing like out East," Sarah muttered. She let the conversation drop to a lull between them as her thoughts drifted back towards home.

"Did you always want to be a Shakespearean actress?" he asked casually without looking at her.

"An actress, yes. Shakespearean not so much, but I love it," she admitted. "I am hoping to branch out. Maybe settle in Los Angeles for a year or two and see what happens."

"Hmm," he replied. "Your mother was an actress, wasn't she?"

"My _late_ mother," Sarah corrected. She watched McNamara drop the bud of his cigarette and grind it with his heel. "She died last summer."

"My condolences," he said glancing at her. His words sounded only slightly insincere.

Sarah shrugged a shoulder. "Thank you, but keep them."

There was nothing that could have been for Linda after the car accident. Sarah and her father had been the only ones at her bedside in the end. A string of bad luck had plagued her biological mother – minor performance and dreams of hitting it big turned to ash with several critical reviews. Boyfriend after actor boyfriend left Linda alone and bitter at her daughter's growing success and rise on the stage. Eventually Sarah learned to keep her mother at a distance. Any and all adoration she had for her mother at fifteen had been replaced with regret and guilt. As Sarah had stared at Linda's lifeless body, she had shed only one tear before turning away. Stubbornly, Sarah Williams refused to let herself become like her mother.

"I'm sorry. Did I upset you again?"

"No," Sarah sighed and ran a hand over her hair. She looked up at John who looked genuinely concerned all of a sudden. She pointed across the lobby to the hallway towards coat check. "You may want to take the side entrance or McNamara will talk your ear off. I'll see if I can't distract him long enough for you to escape."

A smile graced those full lips and a low chuckle escaped the man. John teased and dipped slightly in a mock bow, "My rescuer. Until tonight."

"I prefer hero," she said with a grin. Opening the door, she felt the humid air and heat begin to envelope her in a suffocating grip. "See you tonight, John."


	7. Fast Approaching

**Disclaimer: **All references to the characters Jareth & Sarah and the film _Labyrinth_ belong to Jim Henson Studios and other pertinent parties. I do not claim ownership to the characters and / or the original source material.

**King, Queen, Rook, Maze: Chapter 6. Fast Approaching**

"Hey kiddo! How did your day go?" Sarah asked Toby over the phone. Rarely did she get the chance to talk to him; usually she had to deal with the peppering of questions from her step mother Irene or the occasional conversation with her Dad. Toby's life had picked up steam once he started Freshman year of high school. He had new friends and new hobbies, but more importantly, he had finally started noticing the girls.

"Fine. Same old, same old."

"We really need to work on your conversational skills, Toby. Girls like a man who can talk to them."

"No, they like to hear themselves talk..."

"Except for that cute red haired girl, right?" she teased.

"Are you going to come back and visit?" he asked abruptly.

"Not until the holidays, I'm sorry to say." Sarah picked at the comforter on the hotel bed. She was stuck to the wall since the phone wasn't wireless. The joys of staying in hotels… she thought absently. Because of her traveling, Sarah still refused to spend the money on a cellular phone, and at the moment, the hotel phone served her well. "This production is a long run and rather demanding. Plus I have another gig in town starting up soon. I may have to find a decent apartment here in the city. Why do you ask?" She felt something bump her leg.

"I just… I have this funny feeling I'm never going to see you again."

Sarah picked up the red leather bound book, the little book from thirteen years ago. Somehow it had slipped off the nightstand and onto her pillow before hitting her leg. Today was the day. She couldn't tell Toby that. _He was a baby. He wouldn't remember the Goblin King or the goblins or any of it. _Or so she hoped. "Like… something is just waiting."

"Oh, Toby," Sarah said quietly. "I'll be fine. I promise I'll be extra careful around ladders and black cats and mirrors."

"Sarah, I'm being serious! I have this weird feeling that something bad is going to happen to you. Like something is going to pop out, grab you, and vanish into the night!" He paused. She could almost hear him shuffle his sneakers on the tile floor in the kitchen. "Like I'll never hear from you again."

"Toby…" She couldn't say "I'll be fine" again. A part of her knew that was a little white lie, and she couldn't do that to Toby right now. "Do you want me to call you from the theater tonight after the performance just to prove it to you?"

"Yeah, if you could. Dad won't mind. Mom might, but I'll talk to her about it. Oh, shoot. I have practice. I gotta run. Bye big sis!"

"Good-" The phone clicked dead. "Bye, Toby."

Sarah jumped as a crack of thunder ripped through the air and lightning flashed at the same time across the darkening sky. The shock of it had her hair on end. After a few seconds, Sarah set the receiver down and walked to the hotel room's windows. Big, fat droplets began to fall against the glass while the gray clouds turned almost black. Sarah watched as the summer thunderstorm drowned the city in sheets of water. Mike had told her that Midwestern storms were sometimes sudden, violent, and nothing like she had ever seen before. She smiled sadly. _At least I get to experience one…_

She moved to the chair in the corner of the hotel room to listen to the rain and think. _Am I being paranoid? Or silly? The Goblin King isn't real. That dream from thirteen years ago was just a childish girl's fantasy, a stepping stone to adulthood. _Her day thus far had been uneventful – no strange things out of the corner of her eye, no voices, no touches, no dreams, nothing. Her mind wandered to the dream from a week ago, to the encounter over a year ago, and everything else.

_If the Goblin King really _does_ come for me_, she thought. _What am I going to do? He said he wanted revenge. For what exactly? For winning the Labyrinth and rescuing Toby from my stupid wish? I won fair and square so what is he really after? _Sarah began to pace the limited space in her hotel room. _Does _he_ have anything to do with the play having issues? It all seems so unusual… _

Before the Labyrinth, she had been enamored with fairy tales and fantasies; she daydreamed all the time and pretended to be the princess. After the Labyrinth, she had changed. In high school, she still read her fantasy novels, but Sarah no longer imagined herself as the heroine. The novels were simply stories and not reality. In college, she had studied fairy tales for a semester in college, but she saw them as reflections of the cultures and peoples that had created them. Since then, she hadn't bothered to brush up on fantastical creatures. She hadn't cared to do so. The fantastical, the unknown held no appeal to her… or at least hadn't, until he arrived in her life again. She wasn't quite sure of anything at the moment. She had tried to put that dream of the Labyrinth behind her. She had needed to grow up, to be an adult, to grasp her dreams and hopes. She had been forced to move on with her life without the Labyrinth when Hoggle had said good-bye for the first and last time that fateful night. Or had she been all too willing to let go? To give up on calling for her friends? To forget it ever happened and experience life as a teenager in love? Sarah didn't know the answer. She rubbed at her breast bone wondering why it felt warm, as if a hand pressed against her chest. Somehow…

The light on her night stand flickered once, twice, and went out. Apparently the storm had cut the power, and the hotel's generators kicked in. Sarah looked out the window to see the whole block had gone out. Glistening rain gathered quickly in the gutters and people scattered for cover in the semi-darkness.

"Better safe than sorry…" she muttered as she glanced at her watch. Because of the storm she would have to leave early. A nagging feeling made her pause. She looked down to see the _Labyrinth_ book resting on the bed.

_Last time I wished Toby away to the Labyrinth, and I survived by my wits and friends last time. Wouldn't I have to wish myself or someone else away to the Labyrinth again in order to return? He couldn't possible come here and take me back… But if he comes for me, will I be ready?_ she wondered. In response to her own question, she quickly changed her clothes, packed another set, and a few other items. _If I'm just crazy, I can leave this all at the theater tonight. No one would be the wiser. I can say…_ she tried to think of another excuse as she dug through her bag for an umbrella.

* * *

On stage, John Rochester turned to watch Sarah make her entrance. Her retinue of secretaries followed in the wake of her black heels. Her black pencil skirt tugged at her shapely hips and he admired with a hungry look at how those hips moved. The false glasses did little to distract her beauty. The only hint of Sarah portraying a fairy was in the small points of her ears against her black hair. She wore her hair in a chignon, which fit the 1940s set design of the play. Sarah's eyes alighted on the young Press boy standing by the water cooler. With a predatory smile of a confidant seductress, she crossed the stage to entice her prey. The young boy appeared flustered as Sarah touched his red suspenders suggestively. The secretaries on stage tittered gleefully and watched with curiosity. Puck hid his face behind his hands while Oberon crossed his arms and frowned. With a wicked grin, Sarah as Titania leaned over to get a drink out of the water from the cooler. No one had ever made the action seem sensual and suggestive as Sarah. As if on cue, the water cooler let out a bubble of air to release the tension in the air.

"Ill met by moonlight, proud Titania," John as Oberon said in a dry, unhappy voice from upstage. She stood and gave him a coy smile as the young boy dashed offstage. John wore a dark pinstripe suit with his hair slicked back. He had grown a thin mustache that reminded her of Clark Gable. In his black suspenders, bright shirt, and brown pants, Puck held Oberon's trench coat, matching fedora, and a clipboard. The sprite grinned at her.

"What, jealous Oberon!" Sarah as Titania purred before taking a sip of water. "Ladies, skip hence: I have forsworn his bed and company." She waved the secretaries away. _Oh, this will be a fun performance, _Titania thought as she approached the debonair Oberon who held a gleam of challenge in his eye.

* * *

He watched the play unfold from the wings. In particular, his attention was focused on a particular woman – Sarah. Her sophisticated but tyrannical business woman became a disheveled, love struck girl on stage. For the second act, her pencil skirt and blouse had been replaced by a wiggle dress with a light shift underneath that left little to the imagination.

As Titania fell under Oberon and Puck's spell, her chignon had fallen to reveal soft waves in her hair. Her glasses had been thrown to the wind. Her dress… well, that had slipped off thanks to the magic of costuming while she danced with Bottom. The moment seemed rather risqué, or at least the audience did by the way some of them had squirmed in their seats. With the way her silky slip glided over her body, Sarah's Titania became the seductress brought low by men, magic, jealousy, and love. He felt a perverse joy in the folly of Titania played out by his precious Sarah. Seeing the woman flirting and mooning over a man with an ass for a head was equally satisfying. Comical even. Yet Sarah was only playing a character. Sarah herself was not brought low by such things… Not yet at least. He watched as Titania convinced Bottom to rest on her office's couch. She laid her head on Bottom's thigh and Sarah pretended to sleep. John as Oberon stepped out on the stage and crouched before his Titania. With the back of his hand, he gently caressed her cheek.

"Now, my Titania; wake you, my sweet queen," Oberon stated in a warm and amused tone. Her eyes fluttered open and he helped her to her feet. As he cradled her in his arms, John's hand fell to rest in the dip on her back. Sarah's silky, vintage shift left very little to the imagination as she pressed against him.

"My Oberon!" Sarah exclaimed after brushing the sleep from her eyes. She raised her hand and gently cupped his face with her hand. He expected her to finish her line, but Sarah improvised the moment. She rose on bare feet to brush her lips against his in a feather light kiss. The improvised moment struck him as both appropriate and out of place. Uncharacteristically, he gave her a mischievous, crooked grin. She pulled away and her eyes grew wide as if she knew. Instead, it was all an act as she exclaimed, "What visions have I seen! Methought I was enamour'd of an ass."

* * *

Sarah leaned against the wall next to the pay phone in the hallway backstage. She had dropped in her change and dialed the number for her father's home. Elsewhere, cheers and shouts were muffled but audible. She smiled. The opening performance had been _perfect_. She had played the role to the hilt, pushing her performance since she thought it could be her last. However, the Goblin King hadn't shown up. It was an hour to midnight, and Sarah felt as if she had weathered the worse of the storm. Giddily, she began to believe he wasn't going to show up. She began to roll up her dress shirt's sleeves into a more casual look. Her outfit straddled the line of professional (white dress shirt with a collar) and casual (dark wash jeans). She had opted for her favorite pair of black kitten heel pumps over the tennis shoes she packed. After the play, she felt confident that she had been paranoid the whole day. As she stood by the payphone, she heard Mike walking down the hallway to the backdoor. He gave a low whistle of approval.

"Are you coming, Sarah?" Mike asked with a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. The phone rang once.

"In a minute," Sarah replied with a smile. The phone rang twice.

"Calling your boyfriend?" The phone rang three times.

"Ha ha. No." The phone rang a fourth time. It was late so someone should be home.

"Liar. Why do you always break my heart, Sarah?" Five times.

"Mike, get going, will you?" Six times. Why hadn't anyone picked up yet? Toby said he would wait by the phone.

"Again. You are transparent, my dear," Mike said with a laugh. "Don't be too late!" The phone rang for a seventh time. He shrugged his rain coat tighter around him as a faint rumble of thunder somehow reached their ears.

The eighth ring. Sarah watched Mike go as she continued to count the rings. She was getting anxious. Someone should have answered the phone by now. Or the answering machine should've picked up at least.

The ninth ring. Since the Goblin King hadn't shown up during the performance, Sarah had felt confident enough to telephone Toby from the theater. Plus Sarah knew Irene would not appreciate a phone call at 1am Eastern. Sarah's confidence was dwindling like a creek on a hot summer day.

On the tenth ring, the phone clicked as if someone picked up on the end of the line.

"Toby? Is that you? Are you all right? Why didn't you pick up?" she asked in a rush and heard only silence from the other end of the line. "Toby?" The phone went dead. "Damn it!" Sarah slammed the receiver back into the cradle of the archaic pay phone.

"Trouble at home?" asked a voice from the shadows at the end of the hallway. Sarah shivered and huffed ignoring the sensation of someone running a finger down her spine.

"No, this stupid phone just cut out," Sarah grumbled as she began to dig into her pockets and then her pack for more change. "I promised my brother I would call to say I was fine, but he didn't pick up."

"How is Toby doing?" John Rochester questioned casually as he stood over Sarah. She didn't bother to look up.

"Typical thirteen year old – crazy about sports, cars, girls, and computers." Sarah sighed. She began to throw things out of her pack hoping to find an elusive quarter or dime at least at the bottom. John chuckled at the description of the budding teenager. "Of all the days…"

"You were rather… perfect tonight," he said in an odd voice. "Not as beautiful as Titania, but the personality was spot on."

"You weren't half bad yourself." She started cramming her things back into her pack. She couldn't keep the sarcasm out of her voice. _Why does he always give such back handed compliments?_ She paused. "_The personality was spot on"? "Not as beautiful as Titania?" What does he mean…?_ Sarah stopped moving. She suddenly realized her situation as he continued to talk.

"Well, of course. _Pretending_ to be the Fae King is much easier than _being_ him. In fact, it's rather difficult _pretending_ to be human when it's much easier _being_ the King of the Goblins."

She let whatever was in her hands drop back into her pack. She swallowed trying to find her voice. It sounded meek and distant when she spoke. "What did you say?"

"Sarah, Sarah, Sarah," he sighed as she looked from his shoes upward. John stood there tugging on black leather gloves. His voice had become familiar – the one with that particular accent that she knew only one man had. The glamour rippled like rainwater running down a window, and the magic concealment fell from the man with a gentle shrug of his shoulders. There had never been a John Rochester; there had only been him. Dressed in darkness and starlight, the Goblin King stood beside her. He raised an elegantly drawn eyebrow, but his voice held no humor as he asked her, "Did you really think I wouldn't come for you?"

[A/N: You knew this play was coming… especially after _The Tempest_. .]


	8. Higher Stakes Than Before

**Disclaimer: **All references to the characters Jareth & Sarah and the film _Labyrinth_ belong to Jim Henson Studios and other pertinent parties. I do not claim ownership to the characters and / or the original source material.

**King, Queen, Rook, Maze: Chapter 7. Higher Stakes Than Before**

In the hallway beside the pay phone, Sarah's shoulders pressed painfully into the wall behind her. The hair on the back of Sarah's neck stood on end. Her disheveled pack sat at her feet. The thought of fleeing crossed her mind, and then she was off, racing for the backstage door leading outside. _If I'm around other people, he can't take me. I need to find Mike or Gerry or Alice or_… she thought wildly as she ran in heels. It wasn't easy to run in heels, but she managed to reach the door, throw it open, and stumble outside onto the asphalt. She heard voices and she took a step to go after them.

But a gloved hand on her wrist jerked her back painfully. The Goblin King pulled her wrist up and behind her back to immobilize her. The other hand rose to cover her mouth to keep her from crying out. He held her tight to him to keep her from running. His black chest armor pressed into her back, and the smell of magic engulfed her senses. Sarah frantically struggled, trying to break his grip on her, but he simply pulled up on her wrist and a sharp stab of pain ran through her arm. Her shoulder felt like it was on fire. She thought to jam her heel into his foot or somehow kick him or bite his hand or…

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Jareth snarled into her ear. "So undignified." He pulled her arm again and his hand stifled her cry. She stopped struggling.

"Please… Let me go," she begged against his gloved hand. She blinked back tears. Anger and fear played for supremacy in her mind. Jareth pulled her back into the shadows of the theater building one step at a time. She closed her eyes and let a single tear fall.

"Hush, now," he breathed. His hand slipped from her mouth to her throat. He felt her swallow against his palm and her pulse quicken. Leaning in, he relished the triumph of his plan. The smell of fear mingled in his nostrils with her natural scent and made him feel giddy for a moment. Then he released her forcefully with a push that sent Sarah to her knees.

Sarah expected to land on the asphalt, but when she opened her eyes, she found hard earth underneath her. Looking up, the Labyrinth spread out before her. The sight took her breath away. From the sparse hillside, she could see the twists and turns, the courtyards, groves, and mountains, - everything that led up to the Goblin City and Jareth's castle. Somehow it looked different, more overgrown and wild than before. The sandstone walls were missing in places or looked to be crumbling. Shadows danced in corners where there had been no shadows. Sarah wondered if it was a trick of the light or the place itself. She swallowed remembering how difficult the Labyrinth had been the first time. She rose to her feet and turned to look at Jareth behind her. The mighty Goblin King, more at ease in his realm than his false persona John had been on stage, returned her gaze with a casual look of nonchalance and triumph.

"Take me back," she demanded with anger winning out over fear. "I didn't wish for this. This isn't fair. This isn't real. Goblin King-" She gasped for air as his one swift movement cut her off. She looked down to see his glove hand buried wrist deep into her chest. Something inside her protested while her mind went blank with fear. Sarah felt him tug once, then twice, and on the third try, something pulled free. She felt her vision blur as she fell onto her knees once again. Jareth took a step back to admire his prize.

"My dear, sweet girl," he breathed as he admired the small glowing orb tinged bright red in his hand. "This is you."

He held it out to her for emphasis. Sarah couldn't find her breath. Her chest felt hollow. The Goblin King didn't seem to notice as he continued speaking, "This is your future, precious. Your dreams, desires, hopes, and wishes. Everything. In essence, this is your life… Now in my hands."

"But you… No power… How?" her voice croaked. She glanced down at her white shirt to see a pinprick of blood over her heart where he had ripped out the orb. Barely the size of a shooter marble, the orb swirled from blood red to a vibrant carmine and back again as if alive and beating to a pulse of its own heart.

"Tsk, tsk. Wrong question, love," he chided without smiling. "You have thirteen hours to complete the Labyrinth and retrieve your precious life from me. If you should win, it will be returned to you and you will never hear from me or see me again. If you should fail, your life is forfeit."

Sarah watched, helpless to stop him from flicking his wrist. The red orb vanished. She clenched her fists in anger. This whole scenario was unreal. He should have no power over her; he shouldn't have been able to do this to her. She ground her teeth as she glared at him with hatred.

"I beat you once before," she ground out. "I can do it again!"

"Much has changed in thirteen years, Sarah," Jareth stated languidly. He smiled as if he knew a wonderful secret and only he knew the truth. "The Labyrinth is an ever-changing creature. How naïve of you to think you can complete it again."

In a few elegant strides, he stood before her again. He reached out, and in a flash he held her face in his hand. She stared up at him with sweet, sweet rage in her emerald green eyes. He gave her a satisfied smile of triumph and arrogance.

"To be clear, my dear," he said in a sweet, seductive tone of voice. "If you fail, you will remain here. You will disappear from the Above Ground." He paused for emphasis. "You will belong to me for as long as I let you live should you fail."

"If you want me dead," Sarah began. "Why not just kill me now and be done with it?"

The blunt question took the Goblin King by surprise for a second. Then he barked a bitter laugh at the notion. "Where would be the fun in that? My cruel, sweet Sarah… I want you to suffer as I have for the past thirteen years."

The Goblin King's smug expression grew as Sarah's eyes widened at his frank admission. There was no double meaning in his words. Not this time. He rubbed her cheek with his gloved thumb before letting her go to slowly disappear before her eyes.

"Remember… You have thirteen hours, and it's further than you think," his voice said on the wind brushing over the hillside. A maniacal laugh played on the wind before disappearing over the rolling hillside. Sarah stared at the clock with thirteen hours clearly labeled on its face. The second hand crept along while the minute hand moved. Carefully, she rose to her feet.

Resigned to her fate, she reset her watch to midnight and set the minute hand to match the clock in her view. She pressed the knob in and started her time. _Twelve hours plus one_, she mused watching the second hand move. _I can do this. _Then she checked her pockets for anything else she could use and found nothing. Her inner voice groaned. With a second glance at the ornate clock hanging from the tree, Sarah leaned over to remove her heels. She carried them with her down the hillside to the entrance of the Labyrinth.

As she walked, she remembered her first encounter with Hoggle and how he helped her find the entrance. The memory brought a small smile to her lips. A part of her hoped he would be there again, but uncertainty and then reality quenched that hope. There was no odd looking dwarf spraying the ivy on the Labyrinth's outer walls. There were no fairies, in fact, hovering among the vines. The crawling plant had withered and died leaving behind brittle tangles and dried branches clutching the Labyrinth's stone façade. Sarah stopped for a moment and realized she also heard no birds or other sounds at all. The stillness of the air was unnerving. With a shake of her head, she set out again on the same path she had thirteen years ago to find the door that Hoggle showed her.

With a touch of her hand, the door opened. Letting out a shrill squeal, the massive door moved on rusty hinges inviting her inside. The situation reminded her of something out of a horror movie rather than a fantasy. She hesitated again.

_Jareth said the Labyrinth had changed_, Sarah thought to herself. _How much has it changed? What will I encounter in there?_ _Nothing is ever as it seems here and anything is possible. I learned that much last time. _She brushed the dirt off her feet and pulled her heels back on. _I simply have to be prepared_.

"And I don't have a choice in the matter," Sarah muttered to herself out loud. As she stepped through the door, she asked her optimistically, "How bad could it be?"

* * *

**[Author's Note:** Aha! The plot is starting to get somewhere! Sarah remembers her traumatizing run around the Labyrinth thirteen years ago… but will that really help her against Mr. Sadistic Sparkly Tight Pants? Such prophetic words… She going to wish she never said them.**]**


	9. Illusions and Obstacles

**Disclaimer: **All references to the characters Jareth & Sarah and the film _Labyrinth_ belong to Jim Henson Studios and other pertinent parties. I do not claim ownership to the characters and / or the original source material.

**King, Queen, Rook, Maze: Chapter 8. Illusions & Obstacles (12 hours, 55 minutes left)**

Sarah walked for a time letting her fingers run lightly against the inner wall of the Labyrinth. She tried to avoid the eye lichen peering at her from the brickwork. Finding the opening, she turned and followed the path. _So far, so good_, she thought to herself. She did the same thing for a ways before finding another entryway. As she turned to walk inside, she noticed something out of the corner of her eye move.

"Is someone there?" she called out. She hesitated wondering if she had actually seen something or not. "I guess not."

Sarah turned to continue the way her feet were pointed, but a laugh made her stop in her tracks. The laugh was eerily familiar, and she felt a shiver run down her spine. With unbelieving eyes, she turned around and saw her younger brother. The sandy blond hair fell into his blue eyes and a splash of sun spots from days of playing in the sun dotted his nose. He didn't look like the thirteen almost fourteen year old she had seen last time she went home to Connecticut.

"Toby? You… You can't be here," Sarah stated dumbfounded. He smiled at her and ducked into another opening behind Sarah. Curiosity won out over her logical mind. Sarah ran to where the young Toby had been and looked through the opening. The five or six year old Toby waved at her and ducked into another opening. "You can't be Toby…" She hesitated, but a cry that sounded like her brother in pain sent her running after the blond haired boy.

"Toby!" she called. She ran after the figure that looked so much like her little brother, and she lost track of how many turns she had taken. A maternal and sisterly instinct to protect him drove her onward. Constantly, the figure was just out of reach turning a corner or ducking into another passageway. Sarah cursed herself for wearing her heels. She stopped and slipped them off again not giving a damn about what she might pick up from the Labyrinth's floor. Almost immediately after, she slipped running around a corner and caught herself before falling.

"Toby! Stop!" she cried. She clutched onto her heels. _This has to be an illusion. Toby can't actually be here and younger. It makes no sense! s_he thought to herself, but still she ran after the phantom. She turned another corner and slipped trying to stop herself. Yet something slick underneath her feet sent her falling hard to the ground. Her heels flew from her hand and went skittering across the bricks away from her. As if she had slipped on grease, Sarah continued to sail towards an open pit of spikes. The ground seemed to slope in the direction of the gaping maw of death. _I'm not going to make it! I'm not going to make it! _she thought frantically. _I wish this wasn't happening to me! _

Scrambling for purchase on the slippery bricks, Sarah found none until her fingers found a gap in the paving bricks, and she held on for dear life. The brick ripped away, and she frantically clawed at the next. She held on. It held in place. She had stopped moving. Her legs dangled over the edge. Thankfully the pit was deep enough that she wasn't in any danger at the moment. The spikes on the other hand…

Without a second thought, she grimaced and used all of her muscle strength to drag her lower half out of the pit. Her fingers dug into the brick work covered in slime. A chuckle made her raise her eyes to see the illusion of Toby smiling and waving at her. It faded away and revealed a dead end from where she had come.

"Damn it," Sarah exhaled as she lay on the edge of the spiked pit. _Now what am I going to do? I can't back track._ She glanced to her side and stared down into the spiked pit. _And I definitely can't go that way. _Looking beyond the pit, she noticed there was a passageway and she guessed another break in the wall_. I don't think I can jump it._

Sarah let out a cry of frustration. She had never been predisposed to athleticism. Sure, she exercised in order to keep her weight down and body looking toned for the stage, but jumping spiked pits was not really part of her regimen.

She rolled onto her stomach and picked herself up. Using the wall for support and stability lest she fall again, Sarah carefully walked towards her heels and picked them up. One of the heels had been broken when it had gone flying out of her hand. "So much for these."

She sighed and let the black pumps fall back to the ground. _Maybe some goblin or dwarf or something will get a kick out of them._ She walked to the dead end to see if there was any possible way of finding her way back. With eyes and hands, she examined the wall.

"Won't work that way," came a small voice from her right. She glanced down to see a strange creature akin to a rat poking its head out of a hole near the floor.

"Won't work what way?" she asked.

"Stupid girl. It's a door, isn't it?" the rat thing asked testily. "I swear… Humans are terribly dense creatures. How did they ever get around to ruling the Above Ground?" The rat thing with its beady red eyes and overgrown black nose muttered as it slunk away into its whole.

Sarah felt the wall again and found the brick had been replaced by a wood door. She took a step back and examined it. There was an aging brass knob and keyhole with an antiquated brass key crammed into it improperly. A door knocker looked at her quizzically.

"Can I help you?" it asked politely. "I apologize for rat fink down there. He's very bitter about life in general."

"Ah, thank you?" she replied cautiously. "Where does this door lead?"

"To certain death," the doorknocker replied in a chipper voice.

"So… my choices are certain death behind this door and the spiked pit behind me?" Sarah asked more to herself than to the doorknocker. She recalled a similar conversation with the card guards from long ago. _If certain death leads me to the pit of helping hands and to the oubliette, I should be okay. I know the way from there, _she mused to herself.

"Oh! Trust me! You don't want to know what's behind this door!" the door knocker explained. "It leads directly to the Goblin City and the King's castle! All you have to do is make a few right hand turns and you're there! A nasty place, so I hear! And scary. And-."

"And that's where I want to go," Sarah said cutting off the door knocker.

"You do?!" it cried incredulously. "Whatever for?!"

"For my own reasons. I have to reach the castle in order to retrieve something precious to me," she explained in a vague way. She wasn't about to give the creature the real reason. Even she didn't really understand what Jareth had taken from her and why. At the moment, she didn't have time to ponder such questions.

"But you most certainly will die if you open this door!" it cried desperately. It watched as Sarah's hand adjusted the key in the keyhole. "Oh, please, Miss! Don't turn the key! Don't turn the knob! Oh, dear, you seem like such a nice lady! Don't open this door!"

"I have no choice," Sarah replied as she opened the door.

"Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear," the door knocker said sadly. "You woke up Certain Death now. I warned you, Miss. It was a pleasure meeting you."

Sarah stared at the hulking, black creature covered in cob webs the door knocker had dubbed Certain Death. From its crouching position, it rose smoothly and quietly. It didn't make a sound as it stepped forward. The only sound Sarah heard from the rusting, armored creature was the sound of its chipped axe being dragged against the brick floor. It had to crouch slightly to walk underneath the lintel of the doorframe. Sarah took a few steps back in order to keep her distance from it. Sparks flew when the creature whipped the axe up and into its hands.

When it stood upright, Sarah realized Certain Death took up the whole width of the passageway. There was no way to get past the hulking monstrosity. A rank smell hit her nostrils and she doubled over coughing. Certain Death merely kept moving forward. It raised its axe and took a trial swing at Sarah. She gave a cry and took several more steps back. Glancing behind her, she realized suddenly that Certain Death was driving her back towards the spiked pit.

With a new found resolve, she gritted her teeth and took one step closer to Certain Death. The chipped axe blade came as quick as lightening, and Sarah barely jumped back in time to dodge it. _Okay, so moving forward and running into him is out of the question…_ And with that thought, Sarah turned and ran for the pit. Certain Death raced after her making the ground shake. The door knocker's cries of "Oh, Oh, OH!" punctuated the air in time to Certain Death's footfalls. The crunch of her heels being crushed underneath its feet didn't make her stop. With a prayer on her lips, Sarah jumped and hoped she would land on the other side.

**[A/N:** Cliffhanger… or mid-leap-to-certain-DOOM! Also, in which, we began the count of how many times we attempt or almost kill Sarah…. We got 1! Initially, I forgot about the "certain death" comment from the movie, but upon review and editing, I'm glad I found it again. It's a happy accident (or a weird mental thing on my part) and a happy, little nod to the original source material.**]**


	10. Encountering Certain Death

**Disclaimer: **All references to the characters Jareth & Sarah and the film _Labyrinth_ belong to Jim Henson Studios and other pertinent parties. I do not claim ownership to the characters and / or the original source material.

**King, Queen, Rook, Maze: Chapter 9. Encountering Certain Death (11 hours 30 minutes left)**

The force of her body hitting the other side of the spiked pit sent the air out of her. Sarah clawed at the bricks to stop her from slipping into the pit. Her legs scraped up against the tips of the spikes, but Sarah didn't have time to grimace. She was falling.

Yet, at the last minute, her hand found a tree or vine root and stopped her descent. Breathing hard, she pulled and pushed her way up. She threw her leg up and pulled the rest of her body out of the pit. Looking back, she saw Certain Death ponder its current situation from the opposite side of the pit. Sarah smiled in spite of the fear and adrenaline coursing through her veins. _He can't get across! He's too big! HA! I made it! _

Sarah sat up and rose. Still grinning, she gave him a mock salute and turned to walk down the passageway. "So much for Certain Death…" she muttered under her breath.

Something heavy chinked and fell behind her. Sarah turned as a whistling noise punctuated the air. The massive axe barely missed her as it went spinning past her. The blade sank into the ground with a "ka-CHUNK." A low chuckle came from the monster. It had removed its helm. An ugly, battered and scarred a troll with no right eye or nose. It showed off its few remaining teeth in what Sarah guessed was a smile.

Certain Death began to strip off more of its armor. "Better run. I like a warm meal." Sarah watched in horror as the heavy metal gauntlets, chest plate, and vambraces fell to the ground. She cursed her luck silently. She did not look back until she reached the next passage. Looking back again, she noticed Certain Death climbing the stone brick wall. Somehow his size did not stop him from finding footholds; actually his height allowed him to simply pull himself up the wall. He reached the top and gave her another grisly smile.

"This will be fun," it rumbled as it started to run across the top of the wall toward her. Panic gripped Sarah as her blood ran cold. Fear made her feet fly once again.

When Certain Death dropped down from the top of the wall, she felt the ground shake underneath her feet. She had been blinding turning down one passageway and the next just to stay ahead of the creature. It kept getting closer, almost within reach. It was easily three heads taller and heavier by three times; yet it kept coming. She skittered to a stop when she came upon a courtyard. The stone walls had been replaced by black and brown hedges overgrown with weeds. Gray statuary covered in dead moss dotted the corners. She noted two passageways plus the one she came from. A pile of rusty weapons up against what looked to be a statue of a limbless nymph turning into a tree rested in one corner. Another statue of a headless female rested in the other corner by the second passageway. Beside her a statue of a fat satyr sitting atop turtle rested on the largest plinth.

"Girlie…" called out Certain Death. Sarah didn't have a moment to lose. She ran for the corner with the limbless nymph and climbed on top of the statue's square base. The stench hit her before she even looked around to see if Certain Death had entered the courtyard. "Girlie? Where are you? Come out and play."

His voice grated against her nerves, and she tensed hearing the voice coming closer. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of his foot. She heard the rusty weapons clatter to the ground. _Now or never! Heave ho!_ With a grunt, she pushed against the statue and sent it tumbling down from its pedestal. Certain Death howled in pain as the statue hit him. Standing on top of the pedestal, Sarah noted quickly that she had merely hit the creature's right arm with the statue. Jumping down she pushed over the pedestal in order to force the creature further away from her. She turned to run through the nearest passage, but to her astonishment, it had sealed itself off.

Quickly, Sarah turned back around and dove for the tattered sword hilt. Certain Death staggered forward and chuckled as Sarah got to her feet. She kept the broken statuary and pedestal between herself and Certain Death. She pointed the sword at him for good measure.

"Smart girlie…" it grunted. Sarah looked again at Certain Death. With its green and grey motley skin, it wore a blackened hauberk and leggings. Where the statue had hit it, a white bone in its fore arm stuck out from the skin. Certain Death didn't seem to register the fact its black blood flowed freely from the wound. With its left hand, it pushed the broken statuary away like kindling. Its black left eye winked at her. It lunged forward at the same time as Sarah.

She held the sword in both hands and felt it bite deep into the creature's belly. A noxious smelled filled the already sickening smell in the air. Black blood began to pour out of Certain Death's belly. Sarah turned her gaze from the mortal wound to the creature's face. It hadn't grimaced; it had pulled its lips back to reveal ghastly gums covered in black blood. As if time had slowed, Sarah watched in horror as Certain Death began to move forward up the sword. She felt the sword slide deeper and deeper as Certain Death inched forward. She couldn't move. She couldn't let go of the sword. Absolute terror froze her.

"The prettier they are, the better they taste…" it said in a dark voice. Black blood fell out of its mouth. The sound of the creature's voice broke through her fear. Sarah let go of the sword but not before Certain Death grabbed her tattered shirt sleeve on her right arm with its left hand. "The King won't mind if I have a bite."

Sarah spun and lunged forward to grab the broken shaft of the halberd from off the ground with her left hand. Certain Death pulled and her shirt ripped at the shoulder's seam. She adjusted her grip, spun back around, and swung hard as hard as she could.

The blade at the end of the shaft found its mark. Embedded into the creature's skull, the halberd blade had bitten at least five inches deep. Where Certain Death's right eye should have been, there was the halberd and the broken shaft. Certain Death's good left eye blinked once and it staggered back. It pulled down her, refusing to let go, as Certain Death fell to its right side. The body twitched once and remained still. Sarah pulled herself free and staggered back a few steps.

"Well done, precious," came the Goblin King's voice in a tone of admiration from behind her. Frantically she looked around the courtyard seeing nothing. Then he emerged from behind a statue of the fat satyr riding a turtle. A fitted, brown leather jacket with a high collar was accented by the soft ruffles of his white shirt. He wore black gloves, pants, and mid-calf boots, all made from the same soft leather. "I didn't think you had it in you to take a life…"

Sarah felt herself shaking from the adrenaline coursing through her body. She gritted her teeth. She wanted to scream at the Goblin King. She wanted to throttle him.

"Enough of the games, Gobiln King. This isn't fair," Sarah commanded in a dark tone. She inched herself closer to the weapons. She tried to relax her clenched fist.

"Life's unfair, my dear," he replied with another cold, arrogant smile. "I warned you…"

Before she could grab another rusty weapon and turn to throw it at him, the Goblin King had disappeared from the courtyard. A hand brushed away the damp hair from the back of her neck, and something cold blew against her. Caught off guard, Sarah turned to punch him with her clenched fist. Her hand went straight through him. _He's not actually here…_ she realized as she staggered forward. She caught herself and turned to see the Goblin King give a devilish smirk. He appeared transparent.

"You bastard!" she shouted angrily in frustration.

"Tsk, tsk. Such language is unbecoming of a young lady," his voice whispered before a chorus of goblins joined in his laughter. His false image faded away into nothing. She stood there fuming – shaking ever so slightly, fearful and angry. Several minutes passed before Sarah found any calm.

Warily, she walked through the courtyard to find a means out. All of the passageway entries had re-opened. _Figures. The Goblin King must've blocked them in order to force me to fight Certain Death_. She took the first path to her right. After two more turns to the right, she found herself back in the courtyard. She took the second path. After a right turn, she found a dead end. In going back, she couldn't go to the left. Sarah refused to go back the way she had come (and she refused to look at the puddle of black blood forming underneath the creature known as Certain Death). So, she tried the first path again, but instead of turning right, she went to the left. Without anywhere else to go, she turned right then left then right again.

As she found herself going straight for a ways, she found her mind wandering back to what just happened. She started to analyze the situation when she heard a faint click underfoot. Her foot had depressed a brick into the ground. She heard a soft whirring of gears in motion and then brick moving against brick. The walls around her were slowly moving in by sections.

[**A/N:** Poor Sarah. No luck at all. Attempts on her life: 2]


	11. One Step Forward

**Disclaimer: **All references to the characters Jareth & Sarah and the film _Labyrinth_ belong to Jim Henson Studios and other pertinent parties. I do not claim ownership to the characters and / or the original source material.

**King, Queen, Rook, Maze: Chapter 10. One Step Forward… (11 hours minutes left)**

Without another thought, Sarah jogged down the passageway hoping to stay ahead of the moving walls. She noticed a path up ahead, but the moving walls closed it off by the time she reached it. It had been a dead end anyway. The walls began to move a little faster.

Sarah broke out into a run to reach the next passageway, but she failed again. Glancing behind her, she noticed a passageway open behind her. Quickly she turned and dashed back through the section. In the nick of time, she turned into the new passageway as the walls shifted in the _other _direction behind her, closing off the passageway completely. The walls here began to move inward.

_The whole Labyrinth is shifting and moving!_ Sarah thought. Even her inner voice sounded desperate. She found an opening and ran for it. She raced down another section. As she took one passageway after another, she found that the walls were starting to move on their own in different directions. Once or twice she dove for an opening only to have to step back. She sucked in a breath as a pair of walls pressed in too close together. _Oh, God, this is ridiculous!_

Sarah found herself in a tight spot. She couldn't move forward for the walls were only inches apart. She couldn't move backwards because the wall was pushing her forward. _I'm going to die! I'm going to die! _She looked to her sides. To her right was a blank wall. To her left… Sarah noticed a dark hole being covered by the wall. She scrambled for the hole not really caring if it was a bottomless pit or a spikey one. She fell into it and slide downward into the darkness.

Instead of hitting spikes or sliding on forever, however, cold water made her cry out before she hit the bottom. Carefully she rose to her feet. The complete darkness surrounding her made it impossible to see. By touch, she could feel the water level to be at about her ankles. The water moved downhill, following the natural slope of the tunnel.

Thankfully the tunnel or aqueduct was high enough for her to stand up inside. Sarah gulped wondering how often water filled the whole tunnel. _It may be low here, but who knows what I will find ahead? _She thought inching to her right to find the wall. She paused for a moment and crouched down with her back against the wall. Sarah dipped her hands into the cool water and washed them as best she could guess in the darkness. She smiled; it felt good. She remembered learning a long time ago that moving water kept the floor of aqueduct clear of algae and other slimy byproducts of stagnant water.

Slowly she began to move forward with her hands and feet testing the ground ahead of her. Inch by careful inch in the complete darkness she kept moving, following the gradual decline of the tunnel. In the blackness, she felt comfortable, almost safe from Jareth's prying eyes and dangerous games. She tried not to think of Certain Death's body, the feel of the sword twitching as he moved up the blade to the hilt. She noticed the water had risen from her ankle to mid-calf.

As Sarah moved forward, she pushed the guilt and anger aside; she began to feel other things. The cuts on the soles of her feet began to ease underneath the cool water. She paused for a moment and rested her right hand on the wall. Reaching up with her left, she tried to determine where the other wall was. When she started, she could easily touch the opposite wall. Now she couldn't. She swallowed hard and noticed the water had risen to the back of her knee. _If I don't find a way out of here soon… I'll be swimming with the fishes._

Sarah tried to move faster down the tunnel, but she feared falling into a cistern or an underground well. She felt the water continue to creep up about every ten steps or so. The sound of rushing water filled the tunnel and drowned out her thoughts. Then her fingers bumped into something metallic and hard. Something flaked off onto her knuckles. Using her hands, she felt out the material and squealed with delight.

"It's a ladder!" she cried excitedly. Her voice carried over the moving liquid filling the tunnels. She gave the ladder a shake. It seemed sturdy enough. _And again I don't have very many options_ she thought to herself. Jumping up, she grabbed the second rung and reached for the third above her head. Pulling herself up out of the water, she was able to get her foot on the first rung and continue to climb.

After climbing for a time, Sarah noticed the blackness had faded away. Faint shafts of light, barely the size of her pinkies, stretched out into the darkness of the ladder shaft. Excitedly she sped up. However, when she reached the top, the covering over the ladder stopped her. When pushed up against with her hand, it wouldn't budge. Carefully, she turned herself around on the ladder in order to push her shoulder against the door.

Grunting, she pushed as hard as she could. Something cracked under the pressure and her foot slipped. She gave out a gasp and steadied herself with both feet on the same rung. _Okay. Not a great idea, _she thought as she stared back down the shaft into the inky darkness.

"I can't go back down because the water is rising. I can't push the grate above me open because the ladder will break and I'll fall," she thought out loud. Carefully, Sarah turned herself back around on the ladder. "Please... can't things go my way for once? Why can't you just open for me? Please."

As if in answer to her pleas and questions, the grate moved ever so slightly. Sarah reached out a hand and pushed on the grate. It moved under her touch. With a cry of amazement and delight, she moved the grate away in order to make an opening big enough for her to crawl through. The afternoon sunlight blinded her for a few moments, but Sarah didn't care as she pulled herself up and out of the shaft.

When her vision cleared, Sarah's heart sank. A pool of black blood, a noxious smelling body of a troll, broken pieces of statuary, a fat satyr sitting on top of a turtle. She sat heavily on the ground next the drain in the middle of the courtyard. She was back where she had been an hour ago.

[**A/N**: Attempts on Sarah's life now at 3.]


	12. Two Steps Back

**Disclaimer: **All references to the characters Jareth & Sarah and the film _Labyrinth_ belong to Jim Henson Studios and other pertinent parties. I do not claim ownership to the characters and / or the original source material.

**King, Queen, Rook, Maze: Chapter 11. Two Steps Back (10 hours left)**

Sarah sat there fuming. _I'm back in the same courtyard… Same two options. The one that led to an Indiana Jones / Tomb Raider type deal where I was almost squished to death. So, that option is out. That leaves the other one, which led to a dead end. _She glanced at her ripped shirt sleeve and then down at her feet. With a resigned sigh, Sarah ripped her sleeve off. She examined both of her feet and decided her right one looked the worse for wear. She wrapped her foot with the cloth and tied it tight.

"That should do it," she said out loud. She glanced at her watch and noted the time. _If I knew where I was, I'd feel better about wasting three hours. Then again, I've almost been killed three times. _Her inner voice sighed. _I guess I should expect more traps and dangerous encounters. At least once an hour at this rate. _Sarah got to her feet and walked to the second path's entryway. She examined it for a moment. From the side, she realized why she had been tricked into thinking it was blocked. Then how it wasn't. Perhaps there was another way to turn to avoid the dead end. _Also_, she mused, _perhaps the Labyrinth moving earlier opened a pathway_.

"All right, let's try this again."

Sarah walked through the entryway and examined her options. The dead end on the right had opened up. She stepped to the side and looked askance to the left. _Still nothing_… she thought. She stepped forward and nearly tripped over a loose brick. She sucked her breath in between her teeth at the pain in her big toe. Uttering a choice curse, she looked back up at the path she had intended to take. A faint whirring sound made her shrink away from it. She watched the passageway close.

"Damnit, I tripped another trap," Sarah sighed and looked to her left. She shifted a little again and smiled. "Thought so!"

Sarah set out down the path and found that the walls didn't move. She wove back and worth down the path. Eventually the brick walls of the Labyrinth gave way to tall hedge rows. _I feel like I'm finally making some progress_, Sarah thought to herself. Two voices in conversation drifted through the air. They grew louder, rising ever higher in argument and then dropping back into congenial discussion. Sarah turned a corner and found herself in a new courtyard of various steps and ledges. She followed the voices to a corner in the back of the courtyard. Two dwarves stood with their backs to her in front of three doors. The three doors were all stained sepia, but they all differed in the ornate design on the frame. The left door's frame used inlaid pieces of blond woods in varying shades to create a three-dimensional scene in a two-dimensional surface. The middle door used a high to medium relief with some engraved lines to suggest shading; vaguely, it reminded her of an art history course and a piece by Donatello. The right door used sunken relief in places with small sculpted figures attached to give a sense of depth; to Sarah, it almost looked like a small stage.

The two small, human-like creatures were throwing artistic slings back and forth at each other - "You can't even carve a straight line!" "Your anatomy is off!" "You're as dull as your blades!" "At least I can fit a piece properly!" "

"Excuse me?" Sarah interjected. "But you can help me?"

"Which do you like better?" the dwarf on the left asked her suddenly. He had carpenters tools on his handy man's belt. Shades of blue were picked out over his brown clothing and he had a strange set of glasses with various magnifying lenses attached to it. He pointed to the door on the left.

"Yes, tell us," the dwarf on the right agreed. Shades of red were picked out on his brown clothing and he wore a red stocking cap to contain his lanky brown hair. He, too, wore a belt with carpenter's tools, but Sarah noticed an awl and a few other engraving tools included. This dwarf pointed to the door on the right.

"Pardon?" Sarah asked in surprise. The dwarves shared familiar features to Hoggle with their large noses and eyes, but they had a leaner look to them. "You want me to choose?"

Both dwarves huffed and nodded in unison. They said in unison, "My brother thinks he's the better artist. Prove him wrong by choosing mine."

"Very well."_ This seems more like the Labyrinth of old…_ she mused as she stepped forward to examine the door on the left first. She started with one post, moved her eyes across the lintel, and down the other post. She frowned behind her hand. _What story is this telling? I've seen inlaid wood before and this… is such a shoddy job! The edges of the pieces are so jagged and they don't fit! It's more of a child's mosaic than any attempt at telling a story. _"Tell me, what story are you telling here?"

The dwarf in blues shifted on his feet anxiously. "It's an abstract representation of the Rise of the Goblin King. Don't you recognize his insignia?"

Sarah looked at the doorframe again and faked a smile. "Of course." She had no clue what he was talking about. So, she moved to the right hand door. She performed the same actions.

"Are you telling the same story?" she asked the blue dwarf. He nodded. "Of course! There is no greater story in the kingdom, is there?" _Rise of the Goblin King? _Here Sarah could see figures resembling a young Goblin King and what were probably goblins rallying to his side. She couldn't piece more of the narrative together, however. The sunken relief tried to capture the Labyrinth but… _He really can't carve a straight line at all. Nor can he carve a realistic looking human… Fae. Goblin. Whatever._

"Where do these doors lead to?" she asked trying to sound casual. She moved to the middle door and began to examine it. The carving here was superb – realistic with a touch of Gothic. The figures held a sense of movement and stood out from the carved background. Her eyes grew wide… _It's my story, from when I was here thirteen years ago. Except… _Sarah stared at the center of the lintel. _Why does it show two Jareths?_ She stared at the two Goblin Kings kneeling in what looked to be cells or rooms on either side of an insignia. One seemed to be painted white while the other looked as if it was covered in soot.

"MY door leads to the Wastes."

"MY door leads to Forgotten Things."

Sarah didn't know which one had spoken, but both options sounded terrible. She turned around and pointed at the middle door behind her. "What's this one about? Where does it lead?"

"Bah! That's the old style for an old story!" protested the blue dwarf.

"Who cares where it leads? You're supposed to be judge here of our doors!" argued the red dwarf.

"Which design do you like better?!" they replied in unison again.

"While both have their merits," Sarah began to critique. Both dwarves cursed before she even finished.

"Bah! What do you know about design?!"

"She's probably never drawn a thing in her life!"

"Hey now!" Sarah tried to interject.

"She's just a human!" The red dwarf paused with his mouth agape at his blue brother's words. The words sunk in. They turned to look at each other and then back at Sarah. Their gazes drifted to the door behind her and recognition sparked in their beady eyes.

"Wait a minute… You look like the wanted posters," stated the blue dwarf reaching for a hammer.

"Wanted posters?" Sarah asked innocently.

"You mean the warning posters, you dolt!" spat the red dwarf reaching for an awl.

"Whatever. She looks like 'em!" the blue dwarf responded pretending to examine his hammer. "And she's human."

"Hmmm… you're right. She looks like that supposed Champion from years ago," the red dwarf agreed as he touched the sharp end of the awl against his calloused thumb.

"Mm'hmm. The same one that defeated the King, Roth," said the blue dwarf stepping towards Sarah.

"The posters say he'll pay a pretty penny for her head, Blauth," said the red dwarf moving closer.

"That they do, that they do…" Roth and Blauth said in unison. They began to grin menacingly.

"Now, wait a minute! I'm not her!" Sarah protested and hoped a lie would do. The creatures stopped. "I'm just some other person forced to run the Labyrinth. I made a foolish wish and here I am."

Roth looked at his brother Blauth. "The bell tower didn't ring."

"That's right. When someone wishes something away to the goblins, they ring the bell tower to signal the poor sod's attempt to run the Labyrinth," Blauth explained with a growing smile. "They haven't rung the bell in over a decade."

"And no bell means no wish," Roth stated succinctly.

"And no wish means… you are the Champion from the posters," Blauth hit the head of his hammer against his palm. Sarah took several steps back until she felt the door behind her.

"Shall we take her head and win the prize?" Roth questioned pulling out a nasty looking sculptor's chisel. It looked freshly sharpened. She inched over to find the door handle.

"Why, of course! After you, good sir." With a hand behind her back, she searched for a door knob.

"With pleasure." With a prayer, she began to slowly turn it. It moved.

Roth charged at her brandishing both awl and chisel at the same time Blauth came barreling at her with his hammer raised. Sarah turned, opened the door, and ran inside. She slammed the door shut in time to hear Roth and Blauth run right into it. Sarah pushed against the door with her back. She couldn't get any traction because of her bare feet on the loose gravel of the stone floor.

"Get her! Open up! Don't let her get away, you dolt! I'm not the dolt; you are!" they shouted while pushing alternately with their shoulders into the door. The door bumped against her. _I can't hold it! I gotta run._ She glanced down the stone tunnel with its shafts of light from holes in the ceiling. _Underground? Again?_ A heavier bump sent her sprawling on the floor. Apparently the dwarf brothers had chosen to work in unison again.

Sarah scrambled to her feet and used her hands to push against the door to prevent them from entering. However, Roth had gotten his body half way through. He snarled at her and reached out with a hand. Sarah swatted at him, but he grabbed her wrist. _It's now or never again!_ Sarah thought frantically. She hoped her longer legs would allow her to out run them… and that the tunnel provided some form of safety somewhere. Something slipped off her wrist as she turned and ran down the stone tunnels dappled with warm afternoon light.

[**A/N:** Attempts on Sarah's life: 4. Sarah realizing she isn't in the happy-go-lucky Henson Labyrinth anymore = ongoing. Also, Blauth & Roth is German for Blue & Red.]


	13. Undisclosed Desires

**Disclaimer: **All references to the characters Jareth & Sarah and the film _Labyrinth_ belong to Jim Henson Studios and other pertinent parties. I do not claim ownership to the characters and / or the original source material.

**A/N:** There is a touch of lemon to this chapter. The scenarios are heavily suggestive without being overly explicit. If that is not your cup of tea, skip this chapter and read the next one. - p.s.

**King, Queen, Rook, Maze: Chapter 12. Undisclosed Desires (9 hours 28 minutes left) **

Running hard, she had left them in her dust. She had chosen to keep running straight and ignoring the various tunnels leading off from the main one. Eventually she had found a small alcove carved into the gray rock. Untouched by the light, the alcove also had a rock in front of it to disguise the space beyond. She easily squeezed herself behind the rock and into the alcove. Beyond its entrance, she found the alcove to open into a wider cave, but without more light, Sarah chose not to go further back. She wanted to be hidden, and she had no desire to explore the darkness underneath the Labyrinth again. She was completely hidden once she moved several feet into the darkness. It wasn't as dark as in the aqueduct, but Sarah was sure no one could see her from the tunnel.

Sarah crouched down in the darkness in order to take stock of her current condition. _One ruined dress shirt minus a sleeve. My "going out" jeans are torn at the knee. My lungs burn. My legs ache. _She wiped her face with her one good shirt sleeve._ I'm covered in dust or dirt… Not sure which really. _She sat on the stone floor and examined the soles of her feet. Her right foot had bled, dried, and started bleeding again. She could tell that much through the dirt on her shirt sleeve rag tied around it. _Should I take off the cloth? Perhaps not. _She left it alone to examine her left foot, which wasn't as bad. She stretched out her legs and leaned over in a vain attempt to get her muscles to stop aching.

With a huff, she returned to her crouch and watched the tunnel. She hadn't heard voices in some time. _Actually how much time do I have left_? She wondered and looked down at her wrist. It was empty. A wash of fear made her break out into a cold sweat again. _My watch must've slipped off when Roth grabbed me! No… No, no, no! How am I going to be able to keep track of my time now? How much time do I even have now? _She suppressed a groan or moan or something vocalizing her frustration. _I already have NO CLUE where I am or how close the castle I am. Now I have no idea how much time I have left. _Sarah pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes to keep herself from crying.

"How do you find my Labyrinth?"

The question made her jump. She pushed herself back up onto her feet and took a step towards the alcove's opening. Something glittered in the darkness and she heard the Goblin King's chuckle. His footfalls didn't make a sound in the alcove, and Sarah involuntarily relaxed. _It's an illusion again… He's not actually here. Just like last time_, she thought to herself to ease her panic.

"A barrel of laughs," she responded drily. "What woman doesn't want to be hacked to pieces by trolls and dwarves? Or squished between walls? Or impaled on spikes in pits?" Her anger got the best of her quickly. "Everywhere I turn someone or something wants to kill me!"

"And yet here you are. Still alive and well on your way towards my castle," his voice came closer and he began to materialize out of the darkness. His eyes somehow glowed in the darkness and reflected the dim light like a cat.

"If you wanted me dead… Again, why not just do it?" Sarah asked growing bolder. _He's not really here_. "Why are you doing all of _this _then? How can you toy with my life like this? It's sadistic."

"Why? How?" he mocked. "I am merely giving you what you want, Sarah. The thrill of running the Labyrinth again, a maze designed by _you _for _you. _As always, I am merely living up to _your_ expectations." He shrugged and approached her. He wore a black jacket stitched with silver and gold over a black shirt open at his chest to reveal his medallion bearing his insignia. Tight, black pants left very little to Sarah's imagination once again. His ubiquitous gloves and heeled boots completed his ensemble. The dark clothing almost made his pale skin and blonde hair glow in the darkness. Sarah found herself inching closer to the light and the tunnel beyond the alcove.

"Liar. I didn't ask for this. You made this happen; you _made_ it like this." She narrowed her eyes. _What game are you planning at, Goblin King? What do you really want with me?_

"_I _had nothing to do with it. You made this Labyrinth a darker, stranger creature. You filled the maze with your nightmares and horror stories. You imagined it to be this way," he drawled. In the blink of an eye, he stood before her. His hands were on either side of her, barring her escape. He gave her a smug smirk. "I am what _you_ want me to be."

"I never wanted this," Sarah replied quietly. _He's not really here… Like last time. He's just an illusion here to taunt me, right?_ Sarah felt her heart racing all of a sudden. She felt like a rabbit trapped in its den with the cat clawing at her nose, mere centimeters away from her whiskers.

"Don't deny it, Sarah. You knew we would cross paths again, and it would be something more than you as the heroine with her imaginary friends fighting off a goblin hoard," he said slightly offended. His expression changed as he gave a small sigh. The arrogance and pride remained on the surface, but something underneath seemed to soften. The Goblin King looked almost… vulnerable. "You knew it would be more than me offering you your dreams in the form of an enchanted peach."

Sarah shifted uncomfortably underneath his gaze. "Goblin King…"

"I come with an offer," he cut her off nonchalantly. Several heartbeats filled the silence before he spoke again. His voice almost sounded… sad. "You can end all of this nonsense."

"How?" she asked searching his fey face. Hope fluttered in her chest on fragile, gossamer wings. There was something… seductive about the Goblin King showing a softer side. A wisp of errant hair fell over his smooth brow, but he refused to brush it away. He continued to meet her gaze steadily, holding her in place with those mismatched eyes.

"By giving up."

The words were spoken softly as if they were an appeal, a plea, an offering. Hope died in a fiery blaze of Stubbornness and Pride in Sarah's chest.

"Giving up?" Sarah responded hotly. The idea of giving up and admitting defeat, to retreat after she had come so far already, was ludicrous to Sarah. Sarcasm crept back into her voice. "And ruin your fun? Why would I _ever_ do such a thing?"

With her courage sparked, Sarah moved to rid herself of this illusion of Jareth. Or so she thought. A physical arm stopped her movement to the alcove's opening. Her eyes grew wide with the realization. _He's actually here!? Like when he was the beggar in the tunnel some many years ago?! _Before she had the thought to duck underneath his arm or push him or kick him, his hands grabbed her shoulders and pushed her painfully into the stony wall behind her. Sarah saw stars for a moment before she grimaced at the pain shooting from the back of her head. Something tickled at her nostrils and she almost sneezed.

"No, no, precious," the Goblin King breathed dangerously in a warning. "I'm offering you a loop hole, a chance out of our little deal." He paused as if considering how much to tell her. His clipped words hid his true purpose. "Admit defeat, retreat gracefully, give up this farce, and I will let you go free."

"You lie," Sarah replied angrily. "There's always a catch with you." If his words were true… the mere thought rankled her. The idea of simply giving up galled at her sense of pride and inherent stubbornness. _All I have to do is admit defeat and he'll let me go? Just like that? Give up… and I can go home? _The thought made her pause and she felt her guard drop for a moment.

"Answer me truthfully, Goblin King," she said willing her voice to sound commanding and self-assured. "If I do admit defeat, will I get my life back? Will I be returned to my realm or will I be stuck here in the Labyrinth?"

"Forfeit and you lose the life you had, yes," the Goblin King confirmed while looking away from her. His gaze came back to her as he continued to explain. "But you will be allowed to return to your realm… if you so choose. I do not know what life that would be, but you're human. Your lot is rather resilient even if your dreams are shattered.

"Or you could remain here, in my kingdom and under my protection, with your dreams intact." He paused for emphasis and his chin rose ever so slightly. "But only if you admit defeat."

Sarah blinked at the frank explanation and the Goblin King's subtle attempt at imperiousness. The suddenness of having options struck her hard. _Give up and no more death traps, no more Labyrinth… but no more life filled with my hopes and dreams. What would I do? What could I do? Would I be the same person? _Sarah thought. _Or he… he's offering me asylum? To stay here in his kingdom… and do what? Where is the subterfuge in his words? He is leaving something important out of this equation…_

"If I remained here…with you…" Sarah started to say, but she shook her head. Once again her anger was the easiest emotion to grasp, and she rephrased the question. After all he had put her through thus far… "Why offer me this?"

"As a Fae, it's in my nature to be devious and cruel and seductive," he replied with a slight smirk at the corner of his thin lips. His gloved hands tightened, but he feigned a look of hurt at her accusing words. Then his gaze slipped away from her's, his head bowed and she couldn't see his face directly. His grip relaxed and his shoulders slumped. Something had changed in the air around them. When he spoke, she barely heard him. "Would being here with me truly be such a _bad_ thing?"

For the second time in a matter of minutes, Sarah stood in the Goblin King's grip stunned by his words. _Is he…? Noooo… He can't be suggesting – but he is? He doesn't want… but he's Fae! He said so himself that he's devious! He's a trickster… but he seems so… vulnerable, honest right now._ Sarah swallowed hard, trying to find words and finding nothing. She opened her mouth to ask a question or deny him, but nothing came. Something in his composure made her heart trip over itself.

"Indeed," he replied as if she had questioned him again. Keeping his tone hushed, he brought himself back up to his regal stature. "You would have your freedom here as one of my subjects. You would lose your life Above Ground, yes, but you would be here amongst your fantasies and dreams."

Then the space between them vanished. The Goblin King leaned forward and whispered in her ear, "I _can_ be gentle, Sarah. You already know of my…. _generosity_, and I can give you _more_ than you can imagine. Stay with me, and I can give you more than just dreams." He paused and Sarah could sense his smirk. "Simply say the words, and I'm yours.

"But-" Sarah began but the fey man had pulled back.

"What would you rather have, my precious Sarah?" he asked with a strange fire in his eyes. "If I recall… there was a certain dream where I kissed you… Like so."

Without warning, the Goblin King kissed her forcefully but not painfully. Involuntarily, Sarah gasped in surprise at the sudden contact of lips and tongue. As if invited, his tongue darted into her slightly open mouth. It was brutal and lustful and domineering. Then he was pulling away and something inside of her ached for more.

"In that dream," he continued as if he hadn't kissed her. His hands came up – one to gently cup her cheek, the other to weave itself into the nape of her hair. His voice had grown husky, harsh, masculine. Sarah shivered as if his voice was wrapping itself around her limbs. "I touched every inch of you. I licked. I tasted. I nibbled. I bit you from head to toe. "

Sarah felt her insides grow hot and her cheeks flush at the memory of the dream. She swallowed hard finding her throat suddenly dry. A gloved thumb ran across her reddened lips. In the darkness, his half-lidded eyes seemed to shine like a cat.

"You begged for more and more of me," he went on. She felt his hot breath tickle her neck, and she recalled that particular moment of the dream all too well. "You wanted to moan my name over and over." His seductive voice had a dangerous edge to it that stirred her insides even more. "Even now, you want _me_ to scratch a certain itch." She tried to suppress the images from that dream (and others like it), but scenes of tangled sheets and their naked bodies kept coming unbidden. Sarah tensed as one hand eased her head to the side while the other brushed away her loose hair from her neck to expose it. He leaned in again and his warm tongue lazily trailed up her neck from her collar bone to her edge of her ear. She shivered at the touch.

"You want_ all _of me." As if the action as an invite, the Goblin King leaned in again to nibble the sensitive areas on her neck. The gentle yet painful bites he gave up her neck made her draw in a harsh breath through her teeth. The scent of him – clean, masculine, musky, and oaky – made her giddy. The feather touch of his blond hair on her face made her wonder what it would feel like elsewhere. He moved his gloved hand from her shoulder down to her breast, and he rubbed his thumb over her through her bra. Then his hand swept down the side of her body to the curve of her waist before settling on her hip.

Easily, Jareth drew her bodily away from the wall and into him. His right hand held on possessively to her while his left hand continued to bury itself into her hair in a domineering grip. Sarah felt his body pressed against her own, and this time, she returned the same ferocity that Jareth gave her in the kiss.

Internally, she smirked at feeling him physically respond to the kiss. She felt hungry, wanting more than kisses and teasing. She wove her hands up to his chest and she grabbed onto the lapels of his jacket to pull him towards her even more. Her hips moved as she shifted her weight to stand more evenly against him. Her logical mind screamed that this was a trap, but her body ruled her actions. She wanted him to whisk them away to his chambers. Hell, to take her on the stone floor of the cave. Her inhibitions were racing to jump out the window, to simply… give in. Something drove her to want more, to fulfill that dream from a week ago, to find out what it would be like to have the Goblin King as a lover. In reality and not just what she imagined in her dreams. She would do anything at this point just to have the Goblin King.

As if sensing her mood, Jareth growled in his throat and responded in kind. Yet the Goblin King began to pull away from her. The action earned him a slight, playful bite on the bottom of his lip from Sarah. His chuckle of seductive approval that made her lower half shiver with building delight.

"Sarah, Sarah, Sarah…" he breathed as he rubbed his thumb at the back her head. She closed her eyes enjoying the feel of the touch. Through half-lidded eyes, she noted Jareth's pleased expression at her languid mood. "I'm yours if you only say the words."

"Jareth," she whispered before pausing. Through the haze of lust and bodily desires, Sarah stared into the eyes of the Goblin King. He wanted her, there was no doubt of that, but there was something else. Her logical mind sparked to life and questions began to fly through her head. _A bitterness at how easily the game is over? At having to offer her an out? At having to stoop to seducing me? Does he really care about me and simply wants the game over or… does he simply want to bring me so low? Or is it anger? At me? At himself? He wants something from me… but is this truly it? Would me giving up really give him what he wants?_ Sarah bit her bottom lip.

"I can't," she said sadly, but before he could speak, she rose onto her tip toes. Her body brushed upward against his. He reacted instinctively to support her with his arms tightening around her. Then her lips found his. The kiss was simple, sweet, and honest, not at all like the ones before it. One clear thought ran through her head – _You and I both know what we really want… and this isn't it. _Sarah felt him stiffen as if surprised and his hands loosened their grip. Abruptly he ended the kiss with the twist of his head and he pushed her away from him. She stumbled backward slightly.

"You are as cruel as ever," he breathed into the silence. Sarah stared at him as he turned away from her. His hands were clenched into fists. She opted for silence, wishing she could explain to him or that he would understand. _It's my life, Jareth. for. All of my blood, sweat, and tears. Thirteen years of hardwork… Gone. All because of you, _she thought desperately. _What am I to you, Jareth? What do you want from me?_

"I offer you a chance to be free, and you _still_ choose to continue this childish game," he growled turning back to her. The Fae seducer had disappeared and the Goblin King had returned. "You call me a sadist… but you must be a masochist if you want to continue to risk your life!"

Sarah laughed bitterly. "What choice do I have, Goblin King? What kind of offer is that? Thirteen years of my LIFE for what?" Her tenacity had returned. Steel had crept back into her backbone as she stood to face him. "I can't simply give up what I have built and fought and sacrificed for. I don't want to start over my life. I don't want to give up on my dreams." She took a deep breath to try to calm her anger and terror at her ranting. At some point, she had looked away from the man in front of her. An unseen force tugged at her limbs, urging her to close the space between them. Instead she hugged her arms and fought to stay rooted to where she stood.

"What good are dreams down here if I can't fulfill them? Can you even tell me what kind of life I would have?" Her voice had lost some of its anger. She looked back at him now. The Goblin King met her gaze then but said nothing. The leather of his gloved hands pulled taut over his knuckles where he clenched his fists. Any and all vulnerability she had seen in the monarch had vanished.

"What good is a life and dreams without freedom?" she asked finally in a steadier voice. She took a step forward, towards him and lifted her chin in a challenge. "I can't give up on my life. I have to hold onto the hope I will win my dreams back. I have to win. You've given me no other choice."

"Hmph," Jareth replied as if disgusted, but the Goblin King smiled arrogantly. "Then let's make the game more interesting." He snapped his fingers and a clock appeared beside him. With a twist of his wrist, he wound the clock forward until Sarah had lost an hour.

"How dare you…" She clenched her fists in anger. "Give me that hour back!"

"Only if you give me what I want – give back willingly what you took from us – and we will set you free," he replied as steadily as he could. Anger blossomed in his mismatched eyes, but Sarah held his gaze. Then she blinked, and he was gone.

* * *

His gaze had lingered on Sarah – her body, the rumpled shirt, the disheveled hair, the red lips, the flush on her neck, that indignant fire in her green eyes. He had forced himself to turn away so he couldn't see her anymore; yet her image still burned in his mind. He ground his teeth as he blinked the clock and himself out of the cave.

In his chambers, the Goblin King howled in frustration. That last kiss… It burned on his lips. His plan had backfired. He had hoped to seduce Sarah into giving up. Seduce her to the point of freely giving up the power he had given her. He had planned on her lust for him being greater than her pride or stubbornness. He had feigned pity and vulnerability in order to lure her into trusting him ever so slightly, but he had been wrong. Oh so very wrong. Her green eyes had peered up at him through black lashes and ensnared him. Dirt streaked her cheek, but it didn't mar Sarah's mature beauty in his eyes. Then she had moved against him. Without knowing it, she had... broken through the seduction spell. Something lingered into her kiss that tasted of iron and sadness.

The Goblin King paced back and forth in his chambers. The taste of iron still coated his mouth and lips. He tried not to think about what that kiss meant, what Sarah had been thinking, what Sarah had imbued that kiss with. The disappointment at his actions, the blatant want, the promise of something better, the care, the – he doubled over in pain. He had underestimated her feelings for him. Based on her dreams, he had assumed she had simply lusted for him, her childish fantasy of masculinity. He had thought it would be enough to sway her. He had been wrong.

Sweat broke out on his brow and he clutched at his chest as if an iron spike had been driven through him. Why had he offered her freedom? It had been part of his plan to feign the promise, but sincerity had crept into it. Why did he offer her the option to stay in his kingdom? To be with him? _As a slave, of course_. _If the power could not be removed, she could have been a useful tool. I could mold and shape her into something greater. Or was it to make her a plaything for my amusement? Perhaps both? Or did I simply wish to bask in her misery for the rest of her days? _he asked himself. However, somewhere far away from his castle, a part of him shook its head. A thought lanced through his brain and the taste of iron reinforced itself to make him gag. The thought echoed faintly - _You know better. _

Furious, the Goblin King shook his head to rid himself of the accusing but disappointed voice. He grimaced, growled, and howled at the pain. Choice curses were flung against the tapestried walls and polished floor. Doubled over, he let his anger for Sarah grow since he had nothing else to hold onto. Like a sleigh blanket, he wrapped the anger around himself in order to make the pain go away. Lying on the floor of his chambers, the Goblin King tasted iron and salt on the very lips that had kissed the woman he now cursed.

**[Author's Note:** Originally this chapter was much darker (Jareth nearly choking Sarah) and sexually explicit (get your mind out of the gutter. It wasn't _that_ bad.). I guess we could count Jareth's spell as an attempt on Sarah's life? Sure. Why not? We are at 5 now.]


	14. Out of the frying pan…

**Disclaimer: **All references to the characters Jareth & Sarah and the film _Labyrinth_ belong to Jim Henson Studios and other pertinent parties. I do not claim ownership to the characters and / or the original source material.

**King, Queen, Rook, Maze: Chapter 13. Out of the frying pan… (8 hours left)**

Fury eased into anger; anger eased into shock. Shock eventually gave way to a tired feeling that sent Sarah slumping to the cave's floor. Her body protested, aching for what had been promised mere moments before, but she tried to calm herself. She had been so close to giving in to Jareth in more ways than one. She flushed and thanked the darkness around her. She felt like a fool. She drew her knees up to her chest and hugged herself. She sat there in the darkness playing the moment over and over.

Two things were certain, Sarah decided. _Number 1: he wanted her to choose to stay in the Labyrinth with him for whatever reason. Number 2: his reaction to her last kiss, after the pawing and making out, seemed out of place. As if I had burned or slapped him. _Sarah tilted her head to the side thinking on the two thoughts. _Actually… three things. He wants something from me. He mentioned giving back something to an "us." What does he mean by "us"? And he said "willingly." _

"What do I have that he wants?" she mused aloud in the darkness. Sarah riffled through her memories wondering if he had mentioned something similar, and she vaguely recalled another moment where he mentioned giving back what she had taken. She shook her head. _I never took anything from him so how can I give it back? What is __**it**__anyway? _With a sigh, Sarah picked herself up and eased her way out of the alcove's entrance.

_I can walk and think_, she thought to herself as she stepped back into the tunnel. _With the loss of an hour, I need to keep moving. I don't have time to waste sitting and analyzing the Goblin King when I don't know what other crazy, near death experiences are ahead of me. _Putting one foot in front of the other, she started down the tunnels again.

Eventually, Sarah found a passage leading back into the Labyrinth. Instead of walls of brick or stone, she found herself among tall, verdant hedgerows. Packed and tamped dirt created the path through the hedges. She walked for a time before coming to a fork in the path. She gave a resigned sigh and chose the left hand path. She took five steps before a low, gravelly voice spoke.

"Turn back."

Sarah jumped like a scared cat and looked in all directions for the origin of the voice.

"Who's there?" she asked nervously. There was nobody. She walked back to where the path forked. "Show yourself."

There was a pregnant pause. Sarah waited before shrugging her shoulders. She took three steps down the left hand path.

"Turn back," the voice said again. It sounded stronger this time.

"I'm not turning back. I have to reach the Goblin King's castle," she huffed.

"Indeed. You are going the wrong way."

"Look, disembodied voice," Sarah began looking around her. She didn't see anything out of the ordinary – hedge, dirt path, herself. She walked back to the fork in the path and looked down the right side path. Nothing. Annoyed, she turned on her heel and tripped over a root. She caught herself but winced at the pain in her wrist. She heard something rustle in the hedges and step lightly out on the path. Looking up, she came face to face with an expressionless fox whisking its tail back and forth. Except… the fox was made of dirt and boxwood. The fox had no eyes. No mouth to open. Its tail and the majority of its body was a swath of small green leaves over a core of brown limbs. Its paws and other parts of its body were made from the earth itself. The thing only had the shape of a fox with its brush-like tail and large ears. Her eyes grew wide at the comparatively odd sight. Sarah scrambled into a kneeling position as the fox approached.

"Mistress," the fox said without opening its mouth. It relied on the same low voice that sound like pebble gravel. "We risk much in speaking with you now."

"Wh-what are you?" Sarah gaped at the earthen fox while it scratched at its ear absently.

"We are ourselves," it responded casually.

"Oh, for pity's sake!" Sarah cried throwing her hands up. "What is with you and _him_ and everyone's vague responses around here?! Why can't I get a straight answer?! EVER!" The fox gave her a quizzical look with its foot in mid-air. Then it placed its foot back down on the ground. The action held a pronounced gravitas to it.

"Do not yell at me. I am the Labyrinth, and you are my Champion," it growled irritated. The ground seemed to tremble, but Sarah wasn't sure if she had imagined it or not. She paled anyway. Smoothly, it strode toward her and placed two dirt paws on her knees. The small boxwood leaves on its tail seemed to bristle to show its irritation physically. It swished back and forth impatiently. "Twice we have assisted you. Twice we have gone against our Lord. We do not wish to do so again."

"I… I apologize for yelling," Sarah stammered. "You're the Labyrinth?"

It ignored her redundant question.

"You must give back what you have taken, Mistress," the strange fox said cryptically.

"Give back what? How? What did I take?"

"What you need is nearby in the Heart of the Labyrinth," it stated ignoring her again. Both of its earthen paws settled on her knees. Reaching up, the fox nudged her cheek with its dirt nose. In response to the touch, Sarah felt a flash of warmth spark to life and burn from her stomach to her heart. She blinked and stared into the blank face of the unnatural fox.

"Forget the castle. Find _it_," the Labyrinth whispered. "We cannot assist you any longer, but hopefully our gift will augment the one within you." Abruptly the Labyrinth / fox retreated and stood an arm's length away. "I have risked much in assisting you, my Lady, but we fear his plan will come to naught. The gift was given freely and must be returned as such." The fox tilted its head as if listening to something far away. Before Sarah could ask another question, the dirt and boxwood fox refocused its blank eyes upon her.

"Beware the song," the Labyrinth warned in that same grave tone. "He grows more desperate. He will stop at nothing to keep you from _it_." And with that last cryptic line, the strange fox with a blank face and its mysterious voice disappeared into the hedge.

Sitting in the dirt, Sarah stared at the spot where the fox – Labyrinth – thing had been. She tried to process what the creature had told her. _That was _the _Labyrinth? As in the maze? But not the maze? _She shook her head. _Nothing is what it seems here… So, it makes sense the maze can take on a form, but why would it help me? And twice, no less? It kept calling me Mistress and Lady. Is it because I won last time? _Sarah picked herself up out of the dirt. Her aches and pains did not hurt as much as before. She felt the warmth course through her. _It augmented my gift. What gift is it talking about? Even Jareth mentioned giving something back to him. What the HELL did I take to begin with?! _

With a troubled heart, Sarah began to walk down the right hand path and tried to make sense of her current predicament. _The Labyrinth, if it is to be believed, urged me to forget the castle and find the Heart of the Labyrinth, but I always thought the castle lay at the center of the maze._ She paused and looked towards where she thought the castle lay.

"Perhaps… the Heart is not the center," she muttered to herself before walking again. _And am I supposed to find "it" there. What is "it"? My ruby slippers? A magic lamp with a genie? Fairy dust to let me fly away from NeverLand? _She chuckled to herself. _I am not in a Disney fairy tale… Not anymore. I am in a Grimm or more modern telling where the heroine can die… _She ticked off on her fingers as she thought. _First, I am nearly killed by an ogre or troll thing. I have been nearly drowned. I have been nearly impaled. Jareth tried to seduce me… _She flushed at that thought. _Blatantly_. _Last time he merely insinuated he… _Sarah paused. _What did he insinuate? Love? Care? Impossible. _She waved her hand and tucked a loose strand of hair back behind her ear. _ He was merely trying to win the game. He's the Goblin King. He would do and say anything to win. There was no truth behind his words… _

She sighed and felt the adrenaline drain out of her body. Weary, Sarah kept herself moving, but with each step, she found a new ache or pain. The path underneath her feet began to change and give way to a lush forest. The hedges diminished and tree roots crept over to obscure the well-traveled path. Vines with multicolored leaves hung listlessly like old bowers from the trees. Ferns with leaves like dinner plates and fringes like a feather boa clustered in the patches of cool shadow. Where sunlight touched the ground, small saplings reached desperately for the sky.

"And yet… why do I feel like you did offer me the truth?" she asked in the silence while easing herself over a fallen tree on the path. Under the shadows of the trees, Sarah felt comforted hearing her thoughts voiced aloud. "I was just… too young to understand."

She sat on top of the log and brushed her hand against a patch of withered moss. She had felt grateful towards the Goblin King later in life. She had almost pitied him – the younger Sarah had unwittingly broken his heart thinking it was all a horrible game. Well, it had been more than a game really; more of a trial with dire consequences. Yet the older Sarah found herself wondering, _What if it wasn't a game? What if he really did love me in the end? I can understand being angry at me for a year or so… but thirteen years and you can't forgive a naïve fifteen year old for not knowing what love was? For choosing family and duty over love? For doing the right thing? _

"What happened to you? What happened to make you change so much? To hate me so?" she asked the ether in a whisper. "You seem so… heartless now." _All anger and pride and restless drive towards a goal – this gift you gave and I took. _Sarah had a nagging feeling that it all stemmed with that first adventure and the words in that red leather bound book.

At some point in her musings, a faint song had caught her ear, and she had begun humming along to the tune. Rising to her feet, Sarah followed the song. The lilting tune of soprano voices grew louder the deeper she went into the forest. _It said to beware the song… _she mused but her natural curiosity carried her she continued to hum the tune. A dusting of sparkles accentuated the tracery of the leaves on some bushes as the song came closer to her. _I had forgotten how beautiful this place could be… _she thought to herself as she admired the exotic flora on the forest floor. At some point, she had strayed from the path, but Sarah ignored the flash of warning echoing inside her chest.

All of a sudden a fairy appeared in front of her face. On gossamer wings, the fairy examined Sarah's face before flying on ahead down the path. The song stopped for a moment and then grew again. Sarah quickened her pace without realizing it. Whether it was her curiosity or something else, Sarah felt drawn to follow the fairy. She veered from the path. Past shrubs and a few trees, she found herself on the edge of a clearing. In the center, a swarm of fairies of varying colors twirled and sang. The song came from them.

In spite of the warning hammering away at her insides, Sarah found her voice joining in singing the song. They drew her in and surrounded her in the clearing. The same fairy from the path bowed to her. Sarah recognized the fairy as the same from the entrance, the same one who had bitten her thirteen years ago. She returned a bow and found herself smiling. Something the labyrinth said stuck in her mind. "Beware the song," it had said. Yet Sarah felt compelled to dance in the fairy ring and sing their song. She didn't feel the pain when they began to bite her arms and then her legs.

**[A/N:** Attempts on Sarah = 6 and a half. Hey, we have our first encounter between the Labyrinth and our heroine. I think they will be good friends… or not. Also, Sarah really should've listened to Hoggle in the movie and beaten the snot out of the fairy who bit her.**]**


	15. …and into the fire

**Disclaimer: **All references to the characters Jareth & Sarah and the film _Labyrinth_ belong to Jim Henson Studios and other pertinent parties. I do not claim ownership to the characters and / or the original source material.

**King, Queen, Rook, Maze: Chapter 14 . …and into the fire (7 hours 48 minutes left)**

Sitting on his throne, the Goblin King wore a satisfied smile. His hand lazily juggled the orb. Back and forth, front to back, side to side - in his hand the orb went where he willed it. Jareth's eyes were transfixed on the scene it displayed. Sarah had been drawn into the fairy's ring by their song. Some could naturally hear the song, but mortals could only hear it once they were bitten. Some fools joined willingly expecting the swarm to accept them; they didn't last long. He watched her flowing raven hair as she danced, the shimmer of light from the gossamer wings on her face. His smiled grew seeing the first few fairies bite her flesh and leave small crimson roses of blood on the pale skin of her arms.

"Such a foolish girl," he breathed almost in a lover's sigh. It was a fitting end for her – Sarah, the Champion of the Labyrinth, the girl obsessed with her fairy tales and dreams, dancing in the fairy ring until she dropped from exhaustion. It was mildly elegant compared to his previous crude attempts. All he had done was request the fairy hive queen to sing, and she had been happy to oblige when told her swarm could eat whatever prey it caught with the song. He would have nothing to clean up in the end, and he could easily kill the swarm to reclaim the magic from Sarah.

A rustle and cry from the goblins in his throne room drew his attention away from the orb. Jareth frowned and he refused to look at the commotion. He wanted to watch Sarah until she dropped. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a few of the goblins scrambled for cover.

"My liege, I apologize for my intrusion," the voice of the Captain of the Guard asked. Jareth didn't bother to look at him; he knew the Captain kneeled just inside of the doorway across the circle pit from his throne. He had chosen wisely in picking Hubert as the Captain, but sometimes… he had horrible timing. "Ah. You have another human in your clutches, I see. Why did you not order the bell to be rung?"

"Because she did not wish herself or anything else to the goblins or their King," Jareth replied testily. "What is it?"

"My liege… We've had two reports from the outer reaches of the maze of a young woman bearing an eerie resemblance to… the one," the Captain hedged. When the Goblin King did not respond, the Captain rose to his feet. "Would you have us reinforce the city gates?"

"There will be no need," Jareth said slowly. He turned the orb and admired the exhaustion beginning to show on Sarah's face. "The fairy swarm has her in their thrall."

"Ah, I see. Um, my liege…" the Captain tried again to gain his king's attention to no avail. He sighed inwardly. "I have a report from a thrush. Apparently the Labyrinth spoke to her."

The Goblin King turned an icy gaze to the Captain standing across from him in the throne room. The Captain visibly swallowed but chose to hold his ground. His liege had changed since returning to the realm. He was more prone to anger and violence than before. If the Goblin King could have been called compassionate once upon a time, he no longer was. His imprisonment had changed him for the worse, or so a number of goblins in the castle discussed over pints with the guards in the city. There was little any of them could do about it though. The Captain shifted on his feet.

"Is this report true?" Skepticism attempted to mask the anger.

"Indeed. In a physical form even."

"Labyrinth, appear before me," the Goblin King commanded in a stern voice. Poised to drop, the crystal orb rested on the tip of the King's gloved finger. The Captain felt the air change subtly in the throne room, and he noticed how the last of the court goblins had chosen to hide finally. Yet the Labyrinth did not appear. No voice echoed off of the walls as if coming from everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Nothing moved, nothing changed. Jareth felt the Labyrinth's presence draw near, but remained unseen. Its presence hovered somewhere on the edge of the throne room.

"Very well," the Goblin King said curtly. He tried to suppress his anger over this recent betrayal. Then something shifted in the orb. The change drew his attention back to its image. He expected to see Sarah continuing to dance on exhausted feet, bleeding from various wounds. Instead he saw Sarah stumbling away from the fairy ring. Bleeding, yes, but still moving, trying to escape.

"No," he growled quietly. _So, that's why you hesitated_, Jareth mused. "Captain, round up a troop of your best. Go to the grove and drive her away from the Heart of the Labyrinth. Drive her back to the edges of the maze. Kill her if necessary."

"Sir?" the Captain questioned. The Goblin King had never ordered the death of a runner in the maze. He had always heard the King had held a soft spot for the Champion. He hadn't questioned the warning posters plastered over the city, but he had found he measure odd. He hadn't questioned his King's absence and he had disavowed any rumors of Jareth's changed persona. Indeed, Hub had allowed his troops to talk admirably of the Lady as he had heard the tale of the Goblin King's love for a mortal. He had believed the prevalent story to be true. To hear the order to kill Sarah seemed…

"Why are you not running, Captain?" the Goblin King ground out as he continued to stare into the orb. He had flipped it into his hand and griped it tightly. The Captain heard a faint crack of glass. Jareth looked at the Captain from over the fracture orb. "I gave you a direct order."

The quiet, menacing tone sent the Captain of the Guard of the Goblin City running for the barracks. He did not need to be told twice.

* * *

Sarah stumbled but caught herself as she ran from the swarm. She swatted awkwardly at a blue fairy and sent it flying into the brush. A green fairy pulled on a strand of Sarah's hair before being flung into a tree with a shake of Sarah's head. She kept moving. The white fairy queen burst forth from the group and attempted to call Sarah back to the swarm. Sarah did not even pause. The spell from the white fairy queen's bite thirteen years ago had failed. The warm glow from the Labyrinth had returned to her, and Sarah knew better than to let it go again.

Sarah ran through the brush and dashed past massive elm trees. She brushed aside vines and hanging Spanish moss. She leapt over fallen trees when they crossed her path. At one point, she had run head long into a flowering thorn bush. Rather than carefully extricate herself and go around, Sarah had stupidly pushed her way through. She had felt her clothes catch on the thorns hidden underneath the deceptive white buds. Small scratches and smaller thorns dotted her skin and clothes, but she pressed on. She didn't stop to examine the damage as adrenaline drove her blindly deeper into the forest. She could hear water up ahead, and she hoped to find it.

Finally, she slipped on something wet and fell into an ancient willow. She caught herself against its trunk, breathing hard. After a few gulps of air, she calmed down and listened. The fairy song had gone silent. The air was still. The trickle of water from an unseen brook carried to her ears, but she could not see where the forest diminished to allow the water to flow. She felt a thorn stuck in her heel dig a little deeper and she cursed mentally. She shuddered and suddenly felt cold. All of her animalistic drive to fly away rather than fight vanished. She felt empty and tired. She had to rest.

"I can't take much more of this…" she whispered to the tree. She slid down it, ignoring how the bark felt rough under hands. Her legs felt like thinned out gelatin. Her knees buckled and she crumbled like a broken doll to the forest floor. She licked her lips and wondered when she had started crying again. Blinking, she noticed the crescent moon bites from the fairies and the thin lines of scratches from the thorns. Suddenly numb, she thought to herself, _I've cried too much today. Tears won't solve my problem. Then again, how many people have been almost eaten alive by pesky pixies? _Even her inner voice sounded bitter. In the distance, a faint cry rose into the air. The rustle of brush caught her ear. Something was coming… A lot of something.

"Spread out, men!" came a faint shout from ahead of her. Commands were rattled off in a clipped, militaristic fashion. "Squadron B guard the creek bank and bridge. Squadron C to the right; Squadron D to the left! Squad A, spread out and use the Nippers to sniff her out! An extra meal and grog of ale to the first one to find her!"

"Yes, sir!" an enthusiastic cry came numerous voices.

Sarah crouched down further and cursed under her breath. She couldn't see anything through the dense foliage. She could not even see the strange biting creatures on spears known as Nippers, but if she had heard the call, Sarah knew they were close enough to find her. Closing her eyes, Sarah rested her forehead against the willow's rough bark. _If I go back, I will run into the fairy swarm or worse, but I could find the path again. _She glanced to her left and then her right and groaned. _Except I don't know which way to go. I just ran. If I could find the creek… _She shook her head. The creek would expose her even if she could run upstream and then downstream to throw them off her trail. Plus she didn't know how close she was to this bridge. _If I go forward, I may have a chance to sneak past them. But I don't know for sure, _she thought wildly. _If… If I let them capture me, they would _have_ to take me to the Goblin City, right? _

"… I dun wanna do dis, Gribble." Something hacked to Sarah's right.

"You gotta, Nibble. Cap'n say so." Something else slashed to Sarah's left. She didn't hear the telltale sound of the Nippers and their jabbering jaws of razor sharp teeth.

_But they came from the Goblin City… or a path leading to it. The Labyrinth told me to find the Heart but… I have no clue where to find that. And Jareth has my dreams and life at his castle. _Her fingernails dug into the bark of the tree. Involuntarily, she winced.

"Still dun wanna do dis. Why do we gotta kill da Camp-Ion?" the goblin soldier grumbled. Then Sarah heard a figure moving from her left to her right.

"It's _Champion_! And we gotta! Cap'n say so!" argued the other goblin solder supposedly named Gribble. "If we dun't, it'll be OUR heads on da King's choppin' block. _He _dun wan her anywhere _near _da city."

_Well, that means willing surrender to be captured is out, _thought Sarah bitterly. _Of course, they wouldn't take me alive. Everyone and everything else here has tried to take off my head. _Her thoughts wandered to the Fireys from last time. She wondered if she was in the same forest, but Sarah remembered that the Labyrinth had changed. _All of this is so different… _

"Still dun wanna…" muttered the goblin solder with a half-hearted slash at something. Their voices were getting closer and Sarah hunkered down closer to the willow's base. She half-heartedly wished she could merge or disappear into the tree. _Better yet, can I be turned into a tree like Daphne? Or a reed like that other nymph? _

"If you don't, I'll report ya!" threatened the other goblin solder.

"Do it! I dun care! Da King isn't da King no more!" retaliated the goblin solder called Nibble. Sarah held her breath.

"Dat's treason! Take it back!" shouted Gribble as ran through the undergrowth. Sarah heard the two begin to scuffle and curse in the underbrush to her right.

"He saved us from the Things in the Caves!"

"So?! Oof! Cheatah!"

"Take it back, ya rotten apple!"

Back and forth they went. Other shouts rose up and more goblin soldiers moved through the forest to the bickering pair of Nibble and Gribble. Sarah hunkered down closer to the roots of the willow tree. She didn't dare to raise her head. _Don't let them see me. Please don't let them find me… _she prayed inside her head. Out of fear, she squeezed her eyes shut and bit her tongue. But as more and more goblins joined the scuffle from the forest ahead of her, Sarah paused and opened her eyes. _What the HELL am I doing?! _She thought to herself and opened her eyes. _No, I am NOT going to sit here and cower. I am NOT going to wish a knight in shining armor to come and save me from this like a… like a little, naïve girl! _She rose slightly to survey the forest to her right._ MY life is on the line. I've made it this far. I don't have time to sit here. _Carefully, she eased her way to the left hand side of the willow tree. _I'm NOT going to simply give up! _She could hear other voices and noises joining the scuffle on the forest floor to her right. They were about twenty feet away. _If I stay low… _Something sharp and pointed dug into her shoulder blade.

"That's far enough, miss."

[**A/N:** Attempts on Sarah = 6; 7 if you want to count the briar bushes. Man, thorns suck. The Labyrinth realizing Jareth is a jerk = for the millionth time.]


	16. Time is Running Out

**Disclaimer: **All references to the characters Jareth & Sarah and the film _Labyrinth_ belong to Jim Henson Studios and other pertinent parties. I do not claim ownership to the characters and / or the original source material.

**King, Queen, Rook, Maze: Chapter 15. Time is Running Out (6 hours****58 minutes)**

With a resigned sigh, Sarah turned to look behind her. Her gaze traveled up the length of the sword to the hilt to the heavy hand holding it. From the hand to the arm to the shoulder to the face, Sarah's eyes slowly traveled upward. The goblin guard didn't move an inch. He wore black plate armor and dark leather. Pushed back, his helm's visor revealed a serious face festooned with a long mustache of fiery red hair. Tan skin revealed hours of outdoor living and his slenderness spoke to his active nature and constant training. Taller and older than most goblins, Sarah knew immediately that no ordinary goblin guard had captured her.

"Up with you," he said in a clipped voice. Slowly, she rose to stand and put her hands up for him to see she was unarmed. The voice was the same as…

"Cap'n! Cap'n!" a smaller goblin huffed and puffed up to him. A second and third followed in hot pursuit.

"Find a length of rope and spread the word – we caught her," he ordered. "And get those idiots to stop fighting." The first ran off in one direction while the other two made for the fight. Cries and shouts and orders were bandied about for a minute. The Captain of the Guard looked back at her. "Right. No funny business, Champion. Start marching."

He gestured to her right and Sarah turned to begin walking ahead of him. Occasionally the sword's point touched the small of her back as a reminder. She carefully picked her way through the trees and underbrush with the Captain following her diligently. The Captain didn't say a word, and Sarah didn't feel inclined to talk either. She kept glancing to her right and left in the vain hope of finding a means of escape.

However, more goblins gathered around them and excitedly, they cheered for their Captain. A few grumbled, but a quick cuff behind the head from other goblins silence them. The Captain didn't bother to acknowledge them; so intent was he on keeping the prisoner secure that he ignored his subordinates. Sarah hoped he would eventually break so she could attempt an escape, but as more goblins gathered, the harder it would be to run. A few tried to converse with her, but often the questions were answered by older goblins in the growing ranks around her. Each question was met with a glare or a cuff or a push or a cry at a pinch with the following comment. Sarah tried not to smile.

"Are you really the Champion?"

"Of course, she's the Champion! Who else could it be?"

"Did you really beat the King fair and square?"

"She wouldn't be called the Champion if she didn't beat him!"

"You're so pretty! How did you get to be so pretty?"

"Are you going to stay this time? He misses you."

The last question made her stop abruptly. The sword point poked into her obstinately.

"Here now! Keep walking!" ordered the Captain.

"Who asked that last question?" Sarah asked quietly, ignoring the jab of the sword point again. The brook was in sight along with the stone bridge arching over it. Nearly all of the goblin battalion surrounded her and the Captain. The goblin sent off to find rope hopped up and down at the edges of the group.

"I-I-I-I," stammered a goblin at her feet. He barely came up to her knee.

A fatter goblin pushed him forward. "Spit it out, Pidge!"

"Me! Mistress S-s-s-s-sarah," Pidge the small goblin archer stammered again.

"He misses me?" Sarah asked innocently. The sword point stopped poking her. Pidge nodded so hard his long ears flapped in the air. A few other goblins grumbled around him – "It's plain, isn't it?" "He's not the same… Not after what happened." "He mooned for a month before disappearing." "So unlike him."

"I will NOT have my troops badmouthing their KING to his ENEMY!" shouted the Captain and a hush fell over the troops. "Where is that rope?! Into your ranks, men! We march the captive to the Wastes!"

A half-hearted cheer went up… and Sarah noted that Pidge remained silent. Then the small goblin was gone. The goblin from earlier sent to fetch rope appeared and began to bind her wrists together. Meanwhile, the Captain went to work. He sent a few squadrons back to the Goblin City with a runner going on ahead to deliver the message of Sarah's capture to the king. With the remaining squad, he selected a small contingent of goblins to serve as her guard. The group formed a protective circle around their captive with the Captain at the head of the group to lead the way. A muscular looking goblin held her rope while two others held arrows at the ready behind her back.

With a bark, the group marched across the bridge and took a well-worn path through the forest. The Captain set a comfortable pace, as if he wanted to take his time in walking to the Wastes. None of them spoke, and Sarah took the silence as a bad sign. _This group is well-trained and orderly, _she thought_. Not at all like the goblin army I remember_. She watched the goblin ahead of her and glanced at the ones forming the circle to her right and left. The forest began to give way again to structure path and vegetation. The familiar stone of the Labyrinth's walls began to rise out of the ground at intervals. The trees thinned and hedges began to line the beginnings of a stone path. _They are silent… and watching for something. What could they be looking out for? _

Sarah glanced at the stone walls ahead of her. The warmth that had faded in her chest sparked to life again. She smiled to herself. _Perhaps getting caught was the right thing_, she mused_. _The Captain raised a hand and obediently, the group came to a halt. They were on the verge of entering the stone walls, which reached high above Sarah's head. Two massive oak trees marked the entrance. Sarah looked up at the leaves clinging to the branches, and she smiled a little seeing the acorns ripening in clusters. Something rustled in the poorly manicured hedges to Sarah's right, and she looked in its direction. _What's going on?_

"At the ready, men," he whispered. The goblins closed ranks around Sarah. Swords and arrows were pointed outward. Even the one holding her rope produced a dagger. The Captain drew his sword and the soft _hsss_ of the blade leaving the scabbard filled the tense silence.

"For the Queen!" came a single cry from the trees followed by several "Huzzahs!" on either side. Goblins of all shapes and sizes poured out of the landscape. Sarah gasped. A few were dressed in armor like the guards with green ribbons tied on their left arms. The majority of the goblins were clad in plainer clothes, but they too wore the green ribbons.

"Traitors! You're all traitors!" shouted the Captain. He took on two other goblins at a time who led him away from his squad.

"What the Hell…" Sarah breathed as she stepped forward then back and turned as she feebly tried to dodge flying fists and swinging weapons. Then the rope gave a sharp tug downward and Sarah found herself kneeling before Pidge. Holding the rope, he gave her a toothless smile as a dagger flashed in the sunlight. Her bound hands were freed again. She blinked and then stared dumbly at the goblin.

"Run for now, but promise you'll stay this time," he said without the stammer. He touched the side of his nose and winked. Then he turned and ran off to help a comrade with a high-pitched shout of "For the Queen!"

She hesitated for a moment before the tug of warmth in her chest made her rise and run. _I hope this is the right way!_ she thought wildly as she entered the stone maze. The Captain gave a shout and a few goblins gave chase. They didn't get far as more green clad goblins tackled them. But Sarah didn't know. She didn't look back. The warmth in her chest tugged her onward. A turn here, a turn there, and she turned to look behind her before… she tripped and fell.

Sarah barely caught herself and she winced at the pain in her wrists and hands. Her knee objected as well, but she ignored it. Picking herself up, her eyes grew wide.

"A dead end…" she groaned before looking around her to be sure. Turning, she found the Labyrinth had cut off her only means of retreat.

"No… Not again," she whimpered feeling defeated. She blinked and felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes. She took a few breaths, but the wall didn't move to squish her. She chuckled stupidly at her relief. _Oh goodie. Just imprisoned in stone and not squished to death. Goodie, goodie, _she thought wildly. _All that's left for me is…_The thought died in her head as the ground gave way underneath her feet. She fell plummeted like a stone while crying out. Then the world went dark.

* * *

_The park with its small ornate garden, the white gazebo with the street lamps on either side of it, the river lined with green summer reeds that would turn burn in the autumn. Tall conifers stood as sentries over the quiet and quaint place. She twirled in her costume – a Renaissance inspired piece of light green and white. A braided crown from last summer's Faire adorned her head. She pretended. She read her lines and her lips moved with the words. She closed the little red book and tucked it into her pocket. _

"_Through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered," she began in what she thought was a confident tone of voice. She squared her shoulders and stared at her make believe adversary. "I have fought my way here to the castle beyond the Goblin City to take back the child that you have stolen."_

_She tilted her chin up higher. That's what her Mother had done on stage to appear regal… or when she wanted the upper hand in an argument with Dad. _

"_For my will is as strong as yours, and my kingdom is as great," she stated striding forward and then paused. "My kingdom… Great…Damn! I can never remember that line."_

_She pulled the book back out, thankful her step-mom had sewn a pocket into the dress. They didn't get along very well, but Sarah had to grudgingly admit that Irene was a fantastic sewer and had had the forethought to give the costume unseen pockets. _

"_You have no power over me," Sarah read out of the little book. Something made her pause. She flipped to the front of the book. The page was blank. She flipped through the rest of the book in a panic. Every page was blank, a faded ivory worn at the edges from touching hands. Sarah felt her throat constrict painfully. The air grew still. The red cover of the book began to bleed. At first, she thought it was merely the color but then it felt like liquid, thick yet slippery. She cried out. Frantically, she tried to wipe it off on her costume. Crimson smears covered her. The book disappeared. The blood came from her throat. She tried to say something but the swish and hss of a blade filled the air._

_Turning she tried to find the source of the sound. The slick sound and click of a sword returning to its scabbard drew her twirling around. The Goblin King – him and yet not him – that malevolent presence he had become in her nightmares stalked forward. Phantoms of predatory smiles, menacing evil, sinful avarice, capriciousness, and pride swarmed around him. He ran a finger underneath the slit in her throat where her blood overflowed in a red waterfall. Bringing the finger to his lips, his tongue tasted her life force. The dream man who was and wasn't the Goblin King smiled. _

"_I can make this stop," he offered in sly voice. "This game, this friction between us… You can break this spell you created." He caught her in his arms as she tumbled forward. A gurgle escaped her throat and she couldn't swallow. He chuckled before nuzzling into her blood smeared neck. "We can both be free if you simply give us what we want."_

"_What do you want?" her voice but not her voice asked desperately. One can't speak with their vocal chords ripped open by steel. _

"_For you to admit the truth," he offered with a growl more inhuman than human. "My cruel, precious girl… You'll die here. Just give in to me. Give me what I want." His tongue and mouth smeared the cooling blood across her jaw and earlobe. His breath caught in her flowing black hair. Sarah felt numb, constricted. Cold crept into her as her heart beat once and then no more. _

"_I can't…"Her ghostly voice sounded anemic. All desperation had vanished from her. "Let me go. Please let me go." Something sparked in her and her dead limbs twitched to life. She pushed against him, the darkness, and the dream._

"… _I can't. I can't let you go." Claws dug into her and her mouth opened in a wordless gasp. The spark died in her. His voice – darker than a moonless night and harsher than a thunderstorm over the ocean – breathed the words, "I want this spell gone. Even after I buried it, I still can't let you go. It simply changed. Don't you understand yet, you foolish girl? Die so I can be free of my obsession with you." _

_Sarah shuddered against the gaping maw of white teeth and flaming eyes. Her mouth opened to scream._

* * *

Sarah woke from the nightmare screaming.

[**A/N:** Another Muse inspired chapter title… This chapter came about thanks to the previous chapter going slightly off course (darn goblins) and running a tad too long. It also gives a better idea of Evil!Goblin King's reasoning… kind of. ]


	17. The Right Words

**Disclaimer: **All references to the characters Jareth & Sarah and the film _Labyrinth_ belong to Jim Henson Studios and other pertinent parties. I do not claim ownership to the characters and / or the original source material.

**King, Queen, Rook, Maze: Chapter 16. The Right Words (6 hours 09 minutes left)**

Her hands flew to her neck to find it whole. Blinking and gasping for air, she stared at the ceiling above her. _Where am I? Was that really? Dreams can't be… But then, all those times. Here. What… What exactly happened? _He had been there and yet not there; she had died but had remained alive somehow. There had been blood, her blood, and he had been something, something not resembling a human or Fae at all. Her mind ran in circles until the pain of hitting her head and thinking about the fading nightmare made her groan in pain. She pressed the heels of her dirty hands to her forehead and desperately wished the pain to subside.

She lay there for a time – breathing in and out. She tried not to think. Opening her eyes again, she tried to get her bearings. In the faint darkness, she could barely see where she was. _Stone ceiling, stone walls… Dark. Smells dank and dirty. Must be back in the tunnels. _She moved her head as if testing it. A dull throb but nothing sharp let her know she had knocked herself out but not damaged anything. _I don't even see where I fell. _A circle of light shone above her, but the hole was several feet out of reach. _I can't climb out even if I tried._ Her mind crept back to the moments before she fell down the hole. Sarah began to cry and she turned onto her side to curl into a ball. This was all getting to be too much. When would her luck finally run out?

Punctuated by her sobs of self-pity, a faint rhythmic noise carried to her ears. At first, she dismissed the squeak, swish, hsss of it. Then she hiccupped and bit her tongue. She listened. Panic griped her again as she felt a breeze from something stirring in the tunnels.

"The cleaners," she breathed as she picked herself up. Sarah stared in the direction of the sound and waited. Her eyes had adjusted and finally she saw. _I'm back in the tunnels and that sound… _A flash of gleaming metal, sharp and deadly, filled the tunnel in the faint light. It moved slowly thanks to the goblins pedaling the massive machine, but it was moving fast enough for Sarah's tastes. Her natural instincts of fear and flight kicked in again. Sarah rose and ran away from the cleaner.

Her bare feet clapped against the stone or thudded in the dried mud on the tunnel's floor. She brushed aside cobwebs when she could. She tumbled head long down the tunnel filled with the noise of the cleaner, her ragged breath, and her feet. Her muscles constricted and protested. Her heart beat in her ears. _I can't keep going… My body is going to give out, _she thought numbly. She stumbled over a root and fell hard to her knees.

Sweat, dirt, and blood covered her. Her muscles refused to move. She couldn't think. The sound of the cleaners grew louder. The warmth in her chest tugged at her. She ignored it, but it tugged again. When had it grown to persistent? She felt cold externally as the sweat cooled on her limbs, but the warmth in her chest burned to the point of feeling painful. Sarah lifted her head and looked to her right. A door made of iron with no handle but a lock was set into the tunnel's wall. _I must have the Devil's luck, _she thought. _Or I'm hallucinating. _

Painfully, she got to her feet again and stumbled into the door. She ran her hands over the smooth metal. There were no hinges on her side of the door, which meant it opened inward. She pushed up against it to no avail. She tried to peer into the lock and saw nothing as if someone had shoved the key into it from the other side.

"No… Please…" she breathed. Desperate, she pulled back and slammed her shoulder into the iron door repeatedly. The cleaner slowly came closer. Then she banged her fists against it. "Please! Is someone there?! Open up! Please!" She tried her other shoulder and she watched the cleaner pick up its pace. Her eyes grew wide. "Please let me in!"

"Damnit! Open sesame! Abracadabra!" she shouted with each slam of her shoulder. It began to throb painfully so she switched to her fists again. "Let me in! Please!"

The Labyrinth wouldn't let her die, would it? Jareth wouldn't… Oh wait, the Goblin King had been trying to hinder, maim, impale, distract, disorient, and best of all, kill her, since she step foot back into his kingdom. Hell, she hurt. She was tired and bleeding. "I don't want to die down here."

"You have to say the _right_ words," a voice said through the door. Immediately Sarah stopped and her eyes grew wide.

"The right words?! I don't know the right words." She paused. "What do I have to say?" Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the glint of the cleaner's sharp blades drawing closer in the muted darkness. The whisper of steel whisking round and round grew louder and louder. Faster and faster. "Tell me! Please!"

"I can't just _tell_ you…"

"Oh, for the love of St. Peter… Open the damned door already!"

"That's not right _at all_," muttered the voice. There was a pause. "_Say_ … say that you love me."

"Love you?!" Sarah replied and she cringed inwardly at the tone of her voice. "I don't even know you!"

"Do you want to live?!" the voice shouted back at her through the door. The cleaner was closer. If she simply reached out her hand, Sarah would have watched her fingers turn into ribbons of bloody gore. _Oh, to Hell with it!_ she thought to herself.

"I love you!" Sarah shouted and shut her eyes out of fear. _This is it. I'm done for. Killed in the Labyrinth by a crazed Goblin King and his stupid cleaners while shouting professions of love at an iron door_. A loud click of a blot being driven back and the scrap of rusty hinges caught her attention. Sarah stumbled as the door opened and she fell into the dimly lit room. Quickly, she pulled her feet in just as the cleaner swept by the open door.

**[A/N:** Attempts on Sarah = 8. Sarah being stubborn = thousandth time. What's behind door number one, Johnny? And why is our contestant having a heart attack?**]**


	18. Disappearing Act

**Disclaimer: **All references to the characters Jareth & Sarah and the film _Labyrinth_ belong to Jim Henson Studios and other pertinent parties. I do not claim ownership to the characters and / or the original source material.

**King, Queen, Rook, Maze: Chapter 17. Disappearing Act (6 hours 5 minutes left)**

Casually, Jareth tapped his riding crop against his the sole of his knee high, black leather boot. He wore a white shirt open to the chest in order to show off his pendant. His tight gray riding pants left little to the imagination. He stared at the heavy oak doors to his throne room and ignored the goblins running amok around him. Five or six goblins were discussing the merits of horned helmets over rounded ones. A pair of goblins fought over a chicken. A trio argued over lyrics to a song.

_How droll_, he thought to himself. _Thankfully I have my precious to entertain me in my hour of need. _With a sneer, he conjured a crystal ball to observe Sarah and her progress.

"Oh, dear. Trapped in the tunnels again?" he whispered to her image in the crystal ball. He would rather have her back at the beginning or in the Wastes. He frowned. He would have to cull the Goblin Army ranks for traitors; perhaps hanging them from their toenails from the castle walls would dissuade any more of these "Queen's Men." He turned the orb in his hand. She appeared to be sleeping on the cold stone floor of the tunnels. His frown transformed into a smile as she woke screaming and clawing at her own neck. She calmed and he watched, fascinated, as she came back to reality. Then she was up and moving again. He shifted the crystal to see what scared her, but he already knew. He smirked. "Ah, the cleaners. Will you ever learn?"

He frowned slightly. It was a rather undignified way to go. Definitely not his choice for her. He wondered if he should save her… just so he could be the one to finish her off. The Goblin King had daydreamed of how best to end her life once their game had ended. Perhaps he could simply lock her in the castle dungeons until her time was up, but the rules and a sense of order reminded him of his duty. Simply retrieving her from the cleaners would be enough of a violation… unless he dropped her back at the beginning of the Labyrinth. He smiled wickedly. However, before he could act, Jareth dropped his riding crop and clutched at his chest. The crystal fell to the ground, chimed once, and went dark. He gasped for air as something broke far away. Just as suddenly as the pain came on, the pain disappeared and the crystal on the stone floor vanished.

"King? Are you okay? What's wrong?" a chorus of goblins crowded around his throne asked in nervous voices. "King not feel good? Why does he clutch his chest?"

Breathing hard, Jareth stood on unsteady legs and walked to his chambers. A trickle of sweat tickled his brow. He patted a few goblins on the head as he walked past them. The reassuring gesture, once common but now out of place frightened a few of the court goblins. He didn't notice. Something felt off, heavy and warm in his empty chest. He approached the window overlooking his kingdom and squinted at the sun beginning to set.

"Labyrinth, I would speak with you," he breathed as he continued to rub his chest. The pain eased, but the sense of vulnerability lingered. He looked over the maze of stone, earth, and plant life as he waited for the ancient magic to collect itself. A breath like a sigh caught his attention and his mismatched eyes looked down. Out of the window ledge, a small bird of stone fluffed its wings and looked up at Jareth.

"Yes?" the Labyrinth asked in a tired tone. The voice didn't fit the faceless bird on the window's ledge.

"Where is she?" Jareth reached out with his free hand and scratched the head of the small stone sparrow. His other hand continued to rub the spot over his heart. When the Labyrinth didn't respond immediately, Jareth circled his hand around the bird and gently squeezed. The anger and fear he had held on a short lease roared up within him. The stone sparrow frantically tried to escape, but the King's gloved hand held firm. Jareth gaze a squeeze and the stone bird gave a soundless gasp.

"Why did you let her in?" he seethed with deadly calm.

"We didn't."

Caught off guard, the Goblin King reached out mentally with his mind to the one place he kept locked away, the one place he dreaded to recall now. The taste of iron struck him and he gagged. Before mentally pulling away, he paused long enough to check the seals on the iron door.

"The seal is broken," he said quietly as if to himself. He should have known – that sense of vulnerability, that heaviness in his chest, that pain as if something had been returned. Slowly he uncurled his fingers from around the stone sparrow. The bird without eyes tilted its head from side to side. The quizzical gesture was not lost on the Fae. "This changes everything."

"For you." The Labyrinth ruffled its feathers and puffed up. The stone bird gave a silent chirp in a warning and hopped closer to him. "We will no longer be a part of this farce." The stone bird spread its wings and beat them against the air furiously. "Simply undo what has been done or find another way to makes us complete."

With a huff, the stone sparrow hopped towards the edge of the ledge. Instead of flying, the bird fell apart into a series of small pebbles. Without a second thought, Jareth flung himself out the window. In his owl form, the Goblin King soared on the winds. The breeze did little to ease his anxious mind, but a new plan began to slowly form. He would plan for the third act, for the final minutes of their little game. No more toying with the woman; he'd let her come and then he would win. He gave a cry of triumph as he soared on the thermals towards the Heart of the Labyrinth. It would only be a matter of time now.

* * *

"Summer sun and blue bells, lady, you are stubborn," muttered a voice above her. For a moment, she tensed. _It can't be Jareth_, she thought to herself. _The voice is too high like that of a…_

"You're a kid?" she asked looking up into the masked face of a child. Resembling a bird, the black, leather mask hid most of the child's face except for his chin and lower lip. Dark eyes stared back at her and blinked a few times. Short wisps of uncombed black hair stuck out in one direction and then another like ruffled feathers. _He's no more than 6 or 7 years old_, Sarah thought to herself. _He looks human so he's not a goblin… but he has slightly pointed ears… so he's Fae?Or not?_

"I'm not a goat. I am me," the child huffed. He sat back on his haunches. He wore black trousers tucked into black boots. Black, high collar shirt had a ruffle down his chest, and a black leather vest wrapped around his torso. Across his shoulders, the child wore a short cape of matted black feathers. _He likes like a diminutive version of Jareth… but dressed like a raven or crow. _ "What are you?"

"I'm a human… and my name is Sarah," she replied uncertain of this creature's intent.

"Sarah? As in, _the _Sarah?" the child asked with a hint of awe in its voice. It hopped excitedly like a raven caught unawares. "The Champion of the Labyrinth? The one who defeated the Goblin King's maze and stormed the castle to take the child back?"

"I don't know about Champion…" Sarah said slowly as she pushed herself up and onto her knees. "But yes, I did that. Thirteen years ago."

The crow child hopped closer to her. Sarah raised an eyebrow, still unsure of this creature's intentions towards her. _Well, it did just save me from the cleaners… and it seems to know me._ The creature reached out a hand and Sarah's eyes grew wide. His fingers were tipped black as if he had dipped his hands in tar. His fingernails were sharp like little talons. The child noticed her reaction immediately and pulled its hand away. Turning away from her, the child muttered something she couldn't quite hear.

"Hey, it's okay," she said reaching out her hand and smiling softly. She didn't hesitate to touch the feathers on the child's shoulders. They were soft and glistened in the dim light.

"Why did you come back?" the child asked out of nowhere. All of the joy seemed to have been ripped out of him.

"I didn't have a choice," Sarah found herself saying. "God… After all this time, why now? Why make me run this stupid Labyrinth AGAIN? Why not just challenge me to a duel or a game of wits or just be done with it? Why toy with me like this?!" The dam broke and tears began to roll down her cheeks. All of the self-pity she had held at bay came crashing down on her. "Thirteen hours, again. A life on the line, AGAIN. Dangers untold and then some! All because some sadistic fairy boy holds a grudge! And if I fail… it's… it's all gone. All of it. My hopes, my dreams, my future back home… Why? What did I do except win?"

Sarah clamped her mouth shut to stop the drivel coming out. _I won't say it_, she thought to herself. After everything that she had gone through, it felt unfair. _I didn't wish for this to happen. I don't know what I did to make Jareth hate me. I don't even know where I am or how much time I have left._ Sarah sunk to the floor and unceremoniously sat down in a heap of limbs. She felt defeated. _Everything I've worked so hard for will be gone._ _No more Dad, Toby, friends. Hell, I'll even miss Irene._ _I'm going to be stuck here for the rest of my life… _

Instinctively, the creature had stepped away from the ranting and emotionally distraught human. But as she silenced and the tears continued to fall, the small creature stared at her. Sadness and sympathy crept into its dark eyes as it watched. Purposefully, the dark creature closed the gap between them in its cramped hole of a home (or prison as he saw it). Once again it reached out a hand and a claw caught a loose strand of her hair in its grasp. He gave a gentle tug to catch her attention, but she didn't bother to look at him. A sniffled served as a sufficient response.

"I will take you to the castle," the crow child said. Sarah shook her head as if she hadn't heard him correctly.

"Thanks," Sarah replied in a tight voice. She rubbed at her eyes, which only served to turn the dirt on her face to mud and cause her to blink more tears. _That was a bad idea_, her inner voice chided her. "But no thanks. I can't put you through this. Plus you're a…." Sarah made a gesture since she still wasn't quite sure what this child / creature was. "And you were locked up for a reason. Won't Jareth throw you into a bog for helping me?"

The creature sniffed and began preening its cape of black feathers confidantly. "Jareth wouldn't _dare_ do such a thing to me."

"And what makes you so special?" Sarah thought to use her shirt sleeve to wipe her face and soon realized that was an even worse idea. She glowered at the offending tatter of material on her upper arm.

"I know his secret." The bravado had returned to the raven child's voice.

"And what secret is that?"

"None of your business since you don't want my help… for free even." The creature acted as if its pride was hurt. Then it crossed its arms with a grin. "Fine then. Since you won't ask me out right, I saved your life. You _owe_ me."

Sarah blinked at that and begrudgingly admitted to herself that the little imp was right. She gave up on trying to clean herself off; it was no use. "You did and I am thankful for that. So, I suppose I'm honor bound to give you something. What do you want in return?"

"Many things!" it said excitedly. "But I need time to think." It sniffed the air like a dog. "And you need a change of clothes. Maybe some bandages… and a bath although we don't have time for one."

"No, we don't have time. I've lost track of how many hours I have left," Sarah admitted dejectedly. She rose to her feet and winced at the thousands of small pains. "So we should leave now. I don't care what I wear. The Goblin King will just have to deal with a smelly and stained Sarah running through his Labyrinth."

When she looked back at the black creature, she found him rummaging through a chest of drawers and madly flitting about the room. Sarah took the time to watch the crow child dig out pieces of cloth, clothing, ribbons, books, maps, shiny things, pots, pans – you name it, the kid seemed to be searching for everything including the kitchen sink. She smiled in spite of her mood. The earthen room, about the size of a contemporary studio apartment, held a bed (more of a nest really with all of the blankets formed in a circle of comfort) surrounded by piles of books and scrolls. An array of strange rugs covered the bare floor. Several shelves and a pair of dressers contained various items (as she could tell by the growing pile). Looking up, she noticed shiny bits and pieces hanging from the ceiling like stars in the evening sky. Reaching up, she sent the nearest one spinning in the eerie light created by small orange globes set into the earthen walls.

"Look, this is _the_ Heart of the Labyrinth. You'll be safe from the King," the creature stated with a confidence as it shoved a pile of clothes in Sarah's hands. A few rags were placed on top of the clothes as well. "There's a small well down those stairs." It pointed to a corner of the room behind Sarah that twisted off into the dark. "Use the bucket and rag to clean up at least, Miss I'm-In-A-BIG-Hurry-To-Rush-To-My-Death-All-Smelly- And-Dirty."

Sarah didn't move and glared at the creature. With a sigh, Sarah realized she couldn't stay mad at the crow child. _He reminds me of Toby… a bossy version of Toby at that age._ She gave him her knowing big sister smile – amused and placating.

"If I catch you looking…" she began to say as she moved towards the stairs with the clothes in hand.

"You are just going to have to trust me, Miss Sarah," the creature said with a grin. On a whim, it dropped into an elaborate bow with a make believe hat. The raven child lifted its head to see a genuine smile grace Sarah's lips before she turned to descend the stairs. A feeling of warmth and happiness washed over him. Giddy, the masked Fae creature twirled and threw itself into its downy nest of a bed to wait for Sarah to finish. However, the enormity of the situation struck him as time slow to a crawl.

**[A/N:** Wow. No attempts to kill Sarah in this chapter. The Labyrinth grew a back bone. The Goblin King getting hurt and actually feeling threatened by these turn of events. I must be losing my touch.**]**


	19. Appearances

**Disclaimer: **All references to the characters Jareth & Sarah and the film _Labyrinth_ belong to Jim Henson Studios and other pertinent parties. I do not claim ownership to the characters and / or the original source material.

**King, Queen, Rook, Maze: Chapter 18. Appearances (5 hours 47 minutes left)**

Vaguely, the crow child knew _who_ and _what_ Jareth was. He had felt him a few times other the years. Often the Labyrinth told him about the Goblin King and the books had helped, but he didn't _know_ what to expect of _him_. The child _did_ know the Labyrinth like the back of his hand, but this Jareth character seemed dangerous. How was he going to get Sarah to the castle without _him_ noticing? Once they left the Heart of the Labyrinth and its protective iron doors, Jareth would swoop in to throw him back inside. He knew it for the truth. He also knew Jareth would send Sarah back to the entrance. Or worse. He cringed at that thought. He had a plan to get her through the Goblin City and into the castle, but the hard part would be getting through the remainder of the Labyrinth. Running into Jareth couldn't be helped; it was inevitable. It would just be a matter of when the Goblin King would strike. The raven child curled up in his nest of blankets, feathers, and straw. He was safe here. He could simply let Sarah out and let her go… but he had said he would take her to the castle. What had made him say that? Deep in his bones and as sure as the nose on his face, he didn't want Sarah to leave him. She made him feel… loved. Bluebeard's wives, he felt compelled to help her and he had no idea why. He buried himself deeper into his nest to stifle a small whine. Ultimately, he didn't want to be alone anymore, and her warm presence promised the very things he craved in his heart. He would lead her to the throne room of the Goblin King.

After a few moments, the crow creature crawled out of its nest to find a clean shirt and pack a bag of things it thought they would need. He heard footsteps coming up the stairs (so odd to hear footsteps that weren't his) and turned to see Sarah standing in his room once more. The raven-masked child felt a rush of heat to his cheeks.

"You're beautiful," he admitted out loud as he stared. He tried to keep himself from smiling and puffing out his chest in pride. He had chosen wisely for her figure. A white, flowing shirt (two sizes too big for her) covered her shoulders and arms but revealed the wrapped rags around Sarah's torso and chest. Tight brown leather pants hugged her curves (and apparently just barely fit her). The only thing out of place was her bare feet without those brown rags. The best part though, in the crow child's opinion, was her hair. Shining and slick with water, she had pulled her hair back and braided it.

Sarah felt a blush rise to her cheeks and she looked away from the creature admiring her so ardently. _He's only a child… but he said it so… reverently_, she thought. Her train of thought stopped as a light bulb went off in her head. She looked back at the child who hadn't stopped staring at her.

"How long have you lived down here?" she asked quietly.

The crow child blinked, tilted its head downward to think, and then looked away. Black eyes alighted on something and the crow child nearly flew to the excuse to not answer her question. It snatched a pair of black leather boots (probably a size or more too big) from the bottom of a pile and threw them at Sarah unceremoniously.

"Long enough. Put those on so we can leave," he commanded. He began to busy himself with his travel sack again. Rejuvenated but weary, Sarah decided not to argue with the bossy Fae child. Instead, she rolled her eyes and sat on the ground to tug on the boots. Surprisingly, they fit and were incredibly soft on the inside.

"Do you have a name?" she asked casually. "You look like a crow or a raven."

"I prefer magpie actually," he interrupted. Turning, he threw the travel sack over a shoulder and watched her tuck her pant leg into her right boot. "Names are dangerous here in the UnderGround. Especially for a creature such as myself… or so I read." It paused. His voice became more like that of a hurt child. "No one ever bothered to give me a name."

Sarah stopped what she was doing and raised her eyes to the raven-masked child. His voice was edged with sadness. For all appearances, the Fae creature looked like a child and sounded like a child; yet there was something very mature about the way he spoke and looked at her when she or he asked specific questions. Sarah's eyes drifted to the small pointed ears sticking out of the chaos atop his head called hair. She couldn't decide if pointed ears were typical of Fae children or if this creature was merely pretending to be a child. She only had one other Fae as a point of reference on the matter.

"I can call you Magpie?" she offered and the creature shook its head. She began to rattle off half a dozen names ("Puck? Pooka? Pica? Ariel? Loki?" so on and so forth), and each time he nixed the name ("Ugh, no. Not what I am. Ew. Not even. No." _ad idem_). With his arms crossed, the crow child became confidant once again. Mentally, Sarah patted herself on the back for making him feel better.

"Then think of a name for yourself," Sarah conceded finally. "We're wasting time arguing." During this time, Sarah had watched the crow child pluck shiny pieces from little holes and scraps of ribbon from around the room. He tucked them into his travel sack without a care. _Was he stalling? _Well, if he was stalling, she would try to get more information out of him. 

"How did you end up in the Heart of the Labyrinth?" Sarah asked out of left field.

"Some short, dwarf guy who kept grumbling about how this wasn't right. I think his name was Hogwarts-" began the creature as it examined a shiny coin. It bit the coin.

"You mean Hoggle?"

"Right. Hogsbreath took me down here and locked me in with iron so I couldn't leave."

"Why would Hoggle?" Sarah began to ask but shook her head. That wasn't the question to ask. "Why?"

"How should I know?" the creature shrugged. "All I know is Huggle locked me in here to protect me when the Fae came for Jareth."

Sarah pondered that last bit of information. _Was this child-thing Jareth's heir? _she thought suddenly. The creature was close enough that she grabbed his hand from snatching a piece of ribbon by her leg. It stopped and turned its black eyes on her. The creature shifted on its feet while Sarah stared at the masked child she had caught.

"But you opened the door…" Sarah stated in a questioning tone as if she didn't understand.

"Because you said the right words." By his tone of voice, Sarah half expected him to say "Duh!" at the end, but the child didn't. The Fae creature looked away from her and fidgeted again. "The Labyrinth told me to help if you showed up anyway," he continued. He sounded nervous for the first time in their conversation. "Can we leave now?"

"Not yet," Sarah said as she pieced the information together. She had her doubts, but her intuition told her a piece was missing. She squeezed his odd hand to make him look up at her. "How long have you been locked up in here?"

The creature shrugged without looking at her. He fidgeted again. "From then until now."

_Another evasive answer, _Sarah thought to herself. _So similar to Jareth. Well, the Jareth of thirteen years ago. Not the lunatic running the Labyrinth and making my life Hell now. _

"The Labyrinth has changed, little crow," she stated as if to a child. It huffed and turned to glare at her. Feathers bristled slightly. "Jareth has changed and I can't protect you from Jareth or the Labyrinth. She gave him her warmest smile and the ruffled feathers smoothed themselves. "You've done enough for me already. I can't have you risk your life for me. You'll be safer if you stay here."

"Miss Sarah, I _know_ the Labyrinth like the back of my hand. I wasn't born yesterday."

"Maybe you weren't and maybe you were," she replied a little testy. She sighed and tried to tap into her maternal side again. "I can't be responsible for you out there."

"I can make my _own _decisions." _And I want out_, he thought.

"Fine, but if I catch you leading me into a trap or betraying me, I'll throw you into a bog myself." Sarah didn't smile. She wasn't kidding about throwing the child into a bog. He seemed to ignore the threat.

"Fat chance of _that_ happening," the creature replied tugging his hand away. He had picked up on the blatant threat even if Sarah had no means of following through with it. Deep in his bones, he knew Sarah wouldn't purposefully hurt him. She liked kids. She loved him already. She had _meant _those words even if she had difficulty saying them and wouldn't (or couldn't) admit to them again. "Understood, Miss Sarah."

Both approached the iron door leading out into the tunnel. Sarah placed both hands on the handle and pulled hard. The brickwork tunnel was dimly lit with fading light and it looked menacing for a moment. The crow child touched her arm for a moment. Sarah looked down at him and she searched those black eyes in the black bird mask. She noticed small whorls of blue, purple and green carved into the leather mask. The whorls were made to look like feathers and they shimmered ever so slightly when viewed upclose.

"You can call me Rook," the Fae creature gave her a grin before carefully sticking his head out the door. Confidently, he sauntered out into the tunnel. Sarah couldn't help but smile as she followed the little crow.

[Author's Notes: The naming of Rook took forever. Literally. Sarah and the little punk could have spent an hour going through names. "What about Loki?" "Dear lord, no! I'm related to him through my father _and_ my horse."]


	20. The Man Who Sold The World

**Disclaimer: **All references to the characters Jareth & Sarah and the film _Labyrinth_ belong to Jim Henson Studios and other pertinent parties. I do not claim ownership to the characters and / or the original source material.

A/N: A quick thank you to everyone who has reviewed, favorited, and followed this story. I hope you continue to enjoy the story.

**King, Queen, Rook, Maze: Chapter 19. The Man Who Sold the World (5 hours 13 minutes left)**

In his owl form, Jareth shuddered when a wave of confidence and admiration crashed into him. Mentally, he snarled at the warm feelings and barricaded himself in his icy fury as best he could. He shifted and dropped to his feet in his human form over the Heart of the Labyrinth. When the war of emotions subsided, he carefully reached out to the Heart of the Labyrinth. The iron remained, but the small voice within the prison had disappeared. With his eyes and then his feet, the Goblin King followed the faint twin trails of power in the tunnels underneath him. A hedge stopped him for a moment before he simply walked through it.

* * *

They had been walking for quite some time and had passed a few means of escaping the tunnel. Yet Rook refused to let Sarah climb up and out. He kept telling her "Not yet. That path will lead you to disaster" and "Not here. It isn't safe." Finally the pair stood at a dead end. Sarah crossed her arms and tapped her foot. She was about to scold Rook when the strange raven-like creature reached out a hand to touch the wall.

"Labyrinth, if you would be so kind," he said quietly. The ground shook and the dirt fell away to reveal a stone stairway. Rook gave her a mischievous grin. "I told you that I know the Labyrinth."

Sarah followed him up the stone stairs and back into the Labyrinth maze proper. Yet she bumped into Rook who stopped short at the top of the stairs. His attention was drawn upward towards a white barn owl. _If an owl could glower_, Sarah thought to herself. Then the owl shifted into Jareth who landed with an unearthly grace a few steps away from them. Dressed in a mahogany brown riding coat with a high collar, his ruffled white shirt gave him a Victorian appearance. The shoulders of the coat were detailed with extra padding to accentuate his masculine bearing. Dark umber brown gloves matched his trousers and heeled boots. The Goblin King looked imposing as he nonchalantly took in the sight before him. Something predatory and angry lurked behind the calm demeanor. Shivers ran down Sarah's spine.

"Pray tell, little bird, what are you doing outside of your cage?" he asked in a menacing tone of voice. In a mocking gesture, Rook dropped into a courtly bow towards Jareth, but he kept Sarah behind him.

"I believe you are already acquainted with each other," Rook mocked feigning propriety. "Miss Sarah, may I present the King of the Smelly Goblins and Self-Appointed Lord of the Labyrinth. My lord, may I present Miss Sarah, the Champion of the Labyrinth, a Daughter of the Above Ground, the Mistress of-"

"Enough!" Jareth commanded with disdain. The calm broke like glass and cold anger etched itself into the planes of his face. His mismatched gaze fell on the boy. "You meddle in affairs that are not your own, and you dare to go against the wishes of your king. Go back to your cage, little bird."

"Make. Me," Rook replied defiantly. His black feathers and hair seemed to bristle with energy. Rook balled his hands into fists like the child he was and he clinched his eyes shut as he shouted. "You can't lock me away forever! You can't bury me as if I'm dead!"

Calmly and gracefully, Jareth stalked forward to loom over the smaller Fae-like creature, but Rook didn't give any ground. Sarah watched helpless as something intangible passed between the child and Goblin King. _Something's wrong_, she thought suddenly. _He's toying with us. _She reached out and grabbed Rook's hand in order to turn around and run down the stairs. _He has something planned. He's not -_

"You'll only be hurting yourself if you hurt me," Rook stated flatly to the King.

"Tch. I am not here to punish _us_. I am here for _her_," Jareth said casually. Before Rook could react, Jareth tossed a crystal ball into the air. It landed like a bubble on top of Sarah's head and burst into fairy dust. The Goblin King's malicious laughter filled the air as Rook cried out. Sarah hazily wondered what had happened. The world seemed to upend and gravity pulled her down to the ground. As she closed her eyes, she wondered what Jareth had meant by "us."

* * *

_Sarah hummed to herself as she brushed her hair. High above New York City, the din of traffic failed to reach her ears. She walked over to the large, bay windows and admired the view of Central Park, that beautiful green oasis in a land covered in gray steel and iron. She had everything now. She felt content. _

* * *

With a grunt, Rook pushed Sarah's limp body off of the top of him unceremoniously. He rolled away from her and breathed heavily. Shaking, he scrambled into a sitting position and glanced over at the sleeping woman. _If I hadn't grabbed her_, he thought to himself. _Sarah would've cracked her head on the stone stairs and instead of simply dreaming, she would be in a coma or... _Rook shook his head. He couldn't think about that now. Somewhere far away he heard the Goblin King laughing. _I hate him. I hate him. I hate him! I knew he would do something… _Rook shook himself again and glared in the general direction of the castle. He ignored the laughing tosser to look at Sarah. She breathed slowly as if deep in sleep. _I should have known he would try something the minute we stepped out of the tunnels. He had been following us this whole time. _Rook mused to himself. _I would have done the same thing, but that's beside the point. _Rook reached out and shook Sarah's shoulder as he said,

"Sarah, wake up."

* * *

_A black crow stood squawking in her path during her morning jog through the park. It tilted its head at her and stared at her with shiny black eyes. Sarah thought she had heard it speak. She shrugged and kept running. Maybe she was tired; she had been busy this week with rehearsals for the movie. Maybe she should ask her private physician for some sleeping pills. _

* * *

"Please, Sarah,"

* * *

_said her stepmother over the phone. "If you could simply wire us a few thousand dollars…" Sarah sighed and damn near threw the phone across the room. She hated these calls. She hated hearing Irene beg since her father couldn't ask her for money himself. "It's for Toby," her stepmother continued. Sarah sighed again. "Fine, fine! I'll help him out again, but if he fails calculus, it's his own fault." _

* * *

"You can't let him win like this," Rook said quietly. "The dream isn't real." Tears stung his eyes. Time continued to slowly tick by. He had no way of knowing if Sarah heard him at all.

"Sarah, please. I need you to come back,"

* * *

_said the director following Sarah to her trailer on the set. He continued, "We need to finish this scene today. You've been great all day. I just ask for another fifteen minutes." Sarah stopped and begrudgingly acknowledged the eyes everyone on her. "One more scene and then can we call it a day? I have a headache coming on and my doctor says I have a delicate condition."_

* * *

"We… We need you."

* * *

_The voice made her smile falter. It sounded… desperate. She turned in her bed expecting to find Leo… and she found an empty bed. Oh, that's right, she thought. Sarah sat up in bed and let the dream of a dark haired man with dark eyes fade away. Rising, she found that Leo had slipped away in the early dawn hours. "For the better," she mumbled. She had given up on finding love long ago. Leo and others like him simply filled a physical need. She had yet to find anything to fill the void in her heart._

* * *

Rook watched her eyes flutter but not open. His hope rose and fell. With his dark fingertips, he reached out and ran the back of his hand against Sarah's cheek. He ached all over as he realized he could only do so much for the woman.

"Labyrinth, I have need of you," he whispered.

"So soon?" the sonorous voice echoed against the stone walls of the maze. It sounded weary. "I grow tired of this piety game of yours."

The ancient elemental chose to remain concealed; to manifest itself would simply draw more attention from the Goblin King. The Labyrinth groaned mentally and wished the day would be over. Such meddlesome Faes and Humans…

"Break this spell and wake her," commanded Rook anxiously. He didn't look away from Sarah as he blinked away the tears. _I should've known! He was distracting me and I fell for it. His goal is not to stop her from solving the Labyrinth and reaching the Goblin City; the mad king is out to destroy Sarah. I'm such a fool!_

The Labyrinth had been his only companion for years. It had been the one to answer his questions about the kingdom he couldn't see, the kingdom he knew but did not know. A salty taste hit the corner of his mouth. Sarah's hair stirred as the Labyrinth spoke on the wind, "We cannot undo what has been done."

* * *

_Sarah turned hearing the voice to find a man standing behind her at the market. "Excuse me? Did you say something?" she asked. The man in his trench coat and fedora turned, and Sarah dropped the carton of eggs. His face was blank – no eyes, no mouth, no nose. Simply a smooth layer of skin where a face should be. A scream caught in her throat, but her mind had already told her legs to run so she did. _

* * *

Rook sat there as the sunlight crept closer to the horizon and the moon began to claw herself out of her nightly grave. Sarah had been asleep for over two hours at his best guess. The tears had come and gone. He had been desperate in calling the Labyrinth. Then he resigned himself to defeat. Rook could only do so much. He had removed his mask to rub at his tear-stained cheeks and chin. The mask rested on his knee staring back at him with its empty eye holes. _Masked to hide my features. Hidden like a terrible and embarrassing secret. Buried in the earth for close to thirteen years…All because you wanted to forget,_ Rook thought bitterly. His hatred for Jareth bubbled up in his chest again as he stared at the woman. Well, he could be as stubborn as the Goblin King. He may or may not have any power, but he would sure as the All-Father's white beard try.

"Don't give up, Sarah," he pleaded quietly. "Don't give in to this dream. Come back to _us_."

* * *

_Sarah found herself on stage again in Chicago. She was back at the theater performing Shakespeare. She had decided to take a break from filming and New York after the ordeal in the market. Getting back to her roots as an actress would be good for her, or so her doctor and friends and agent suggested. The production differed from the one over a decade ago. Instead of a modern interpretation, Sarah stood dressed in an extravagant, fantastical costume. She looked like a dark Fae though. The critics had been buzzing happily. The words "sensual" and "creative" were bandied about to her delight. Sarah had grown to love good reviews; they didn't replace this need in her heart, but they helped her confidence and self-esteem. _

* * *

Rook reached out with his dark hand and took Sarah's pale one. He had to try one last time. He had read about dreams and spells, about stepping into and out of them. Could he do it? Was he strong enough? He would have to find out… in order to save her. With a deep breath, Rook shivered as he mentally shed his image and donned another for Sarah's dream.

* * *

_Stepping out on stage, she knew her ensemble made the audience gasp. Her gown of fading blues made her look like the evening sky. Stitches of silver thread picked out constellations on the hem. Prosthetic ears gave her those subtle little points and carried the line of her cheekbones higher. A hair net made to look like dew drops against her raven hair sparkled in the stage lights. She smiled at Oberon and recited her lines on stage. He looked… unreal. He wore black leather armor picked over with gold and crimson. Underneath it, he wore a velvety, dark red shirt. Black gloves covered his hands. A cape the color of oxblood with a high collar completed his dark, imperial appearance. Suddenly Oberon broke character and grabbed her around the waist. His dark eyes flashed and held her for a moment as if he was a raven catching a blue ribbon. He held her hand tight to his chest over his heart, and the theater faded away into nothingness._

* * *

He closed his eyes and sought out a memory buried deep within him. Sweat broke out on his brow with the effort. "Sarah…"

* * *

_He said her name affectionately. His dark eyes searched her own, looking for something akin to recognition. He blinked and his right eye turned to an odd shade of blue. His hair shifted from black to blonde. _

* * *

"Once upon a time, I asked for so little."

* * *

_He looked familiar, Sarah realized with an odd feeling in her chest and head._

"I ask again. Just fear me, love me, do as I say and I will be your slave."

_The man paused and ran a gloved thumb of her painted lips._

"All I ask is for you to stay by my side. Forever."

_The man's voice sounded sad, as if his heart was breaking. As if he knew, it was futile to ask her. Sarah swallowed hard. _

_"But I can't. I can't ask that of you or anyone. I can't get my heart broken again." _

_He cut her protests short with a soft, gentle kiss. So tender was it that Sarah felt her heart stop. The man pulled away and chuckled as her eyes fluttered; he watched a blush lightly paint her fair skin. _

"Love me, Sarah, and I am yours forever."

_Sarah thought to protest but her body moved of its own accord. Her eyes closed, her lips found his again, and she gave in to the man of her dreams. You have no power over me, she thought helplessly, and I over you, but I will love you for as long as you love me._

* * *

Gasping, he pulled himself out of the dream as Sarah began to stir and wake. Quickly, he scooted away from her as if she were a bonfire and he was too close. Turning away from her, he slipped his mask back on and checked himself for a moment. Sweat trickled down his back and itched behind his mask, but he tried to ignore it. Something pulsed in his veins and it wasn't blood. His heart raced and he felt… both weak and exuberant. He mentally put himself back to right and took a deep breath. He was Rook. Just… Rook.

When Sarah stirred and moaned, he broke into a smile. Turning back around, he watched the woman wince and frown. Relief washed over him. He wanted to dance; he wanted to crow at the rising moon. He especially wanted to gloat in front of the Goblin King. He wanted to see Jareth howl at having lost this round! He settled for a wicked grin of satisfaction and pride… and he tried not to think of what lay ahead for him and his Sarah.

"Wha… What happened?" Sarah asked with a grimace. On her back, she pressed her hand to her forehead. "It feels like I have a hangover."

"Residual magic. It'll go away soon," Rook replied plucking a wayward and broken black feather from his cape. Sarah groaned as she sat up. He let the feather fall to the ground. Answers he didn't know he had were suddenly at his black fingertips. "The Goblin King tried to make you sleep forever with a pretty, little dream of fame and glory, but yours truly saved you once again."

Sarah suppressed a groan of pain and felt it hang in her throat like a lead weight. The pounding had ebbed to a dull throb, but she still felt sluggish and drugged. She opened her eyes again and noticed how the shadows stretched across them. A sense of fear gripped her tightly and erased the pain in an instant.

"What time is it?" she asked turning to Rook. The boy's smile dropped slightly. "How much time is left?"

"Time to be moving again," he replied in a serious tone before turning sheepish. "You have roughly two hours left by my best guess."

Rook rose to his feet and offered a hand to Sarah to help her up. He didn't let it go once she was on her feet. She looked down at him and blinked a few times. Before she could comment on the loss of time, he pointed behind them at the stone stairs. "If I hadn't pulled you forward, time wouldn't have mattered."

Since her head still ached, Sarah could only glance over at the stairs slowly and nodded her head in acknowledgement. Anything she had to say about the lack of time, died on her lips. Without hesitating, she pulled Rook into an embrace. He tensed immediately at the suddenness of the action but relaxed as Sarah began to pet the top of his unruly mop of black hair.

"Thank you. You've saved my life twice now," Sarah admitted with a half-smile. "I owe you another favor."

"For another time," muttered Rook as he tried to push her away. He was so thankful for his mask. "Geez. Will you stop hugging me? It's embarrassing!"

Sarah let him go with a smirk. _Such a Toby response_… she mused. Rook marched down the path without looking back at her with his feathered shoulders up to his ear lobes. She watched him for a moment before following. _Is it coincidence or is there something else to Rook_? she thought to herself.

* * *

**[A/N:** It's the chapter that will never end! It goes on and on, my friends! Oh. Attempts to kill Sarah = 9.**]**


End file.

Labyrinth, Adventure, Drama