Labyrinth 1. Desperation

The Folly of Feeling

"You insulted me!" Jareth snapped, icy and unmoving as the stones, "For that I should kill you! And yet you have the unbelievable gall to stand here before me and request asylum? Mercy? Not for you, Sarah. Never for you!"  
Sarah bowed her head, hot tears welling up in her eyes.

"Please, Goblin King..."

"Oh, do stop with the dramatics. It was endearing when you were a teenager, but has somewhat lost its flavor!"  
"Fine! Jareth, then!" she defiantly met his gaze. "I'm here because I can't live out there anymore! My husband beats me nightly, he's having an affair with the neighbor's daughter, for God's sake! My parents are dead, my little brother died of a drug overdose last year, and I just lost my job! It was either you, Jareth, or a bridge!"

"Take the bridge, then!"

He hadn't aged at all, not a day in twelve years. The pale golden hair still shone with an inner light, the eyes still seemed to hold forbidden secrets in their depths.  
As forbidden as any secret a sixteen-year-old could imagine from such a sensual, otherwordly figure.  
The city was rebuilt with great splendor and indolent luxury. Even the hedges forming the greater part of the Labyrinth were thicker and greener than Sarah remembered. It was paradise.

She was a fool not to have noticed it before.

But her short-sightedness could be forgiven, being as young as she was. The world still neemed bright and full of promise then. It took years before she realized that her life was slipping away and she was utterly miserable and helpless and tired.  
This was her final chance.

"I know I hurt you, Jareth..."

"You have no idea, little girl!"

That voice, that beautiful rich voice.

"Do you know the kind of hell I've been through?!" Sarah demanded, moving forward. Instantly the goblin guards on either side of the throne brandished their pikes menacingly, and she stepped back.

"Of course I know! Not a day has passed that I have not seen you, watched your life unfolding into the sorry mess it is today! I had to steal a toddler to get you here once, but now it takes a few beatings and deaths and the loss of some ridiculous grunt-work position in a factory to drag you again before my throne?"

"A few beatings?! He caused me to miscarry THREE TIMES, Jareth! And the last time he beat me so badly that I was in bed for a solid month!"

Jareth glared at her, not allowing so much as a ghost of an expression of pity to cross his features.

"Yes, yes. I know. Really, inside I'm weeping." he hissed.

Sarah could take it no longer. She burst into tears, falling to her knees on the thick red rug and hiding her face in her hands. Pure misery washed through her soul, and a feeling of total desolation. She wanted to die, to just end it all and maybe wake up somewhere fresh and new and clean again. Outside in the city, it had begin to rain. The enchanted clouds opened up and poured sweet relief down upon the thirsty hedges, the fairy-glen and the gardens behind te castle. A clap of thunder sounded, and the world outside darkened.  
It seemed fitting to Sara, that the heavens were sobbing all around her as her heart crumbled into dust.

Jareth hated to hear women crying. Next to rocks falling and country music, it was his least favorite sound. He motioned angrily for one of the guards to go to her aid, but the creature just stared at him without even a flicker of comprehension on its stupid, kindly face. Jareth sighed.  
_'Idiots'  
_He got up from his throne and moved to kneel beside the sobbing girl. Taking a silk handkercheif from his sleeve he handed it to her. "Just settle down, damn it. The goblins are staring."

Sarah took the proferred fabric and wiped at her streaming eyes, drawing a shaky breath as she did so.  
"You can't imagine what I've been through." she whispered brokenly. "No, I suppose I cannot. But you've put me through a great deal as well, Sarah."

"I...I know."

"Coming back here was a rather brazen thing to do, I hope you realize."

"Yes."

Jareth sighed. He was in a quandry.  
At long last, he grudgingly made a decision.

"You may stay, Sarah. But you will serve in the castle doing every nasty little chore that needs doing. Even the chamber maids will be above you. But you will have a home and an alternative to the bridge you spoke of so movingly. Return to your world and gather what things you wish to bring with you, including that little dog I've noticed. He'll be the first to go when your husband finds you missing. And don't forget your stories. I may regret this decision..."

"You won't! I swear it!"

"Oh, leave off. I already do. But I can't very well have you killing yourself and causing a stir. Just be swift. I have very little patience left for you."

Sarah was on her feet instantly, her tears drying in a wave of new hope. Cleaning goblin toilets seemed like a blessing compared with her current situation. Impulsively, she threw her arms around Jareth's neck and hugged him.  
"For pity's sake, woman! Control yourself!"

But he hugged her back, briefly and scowling all the while. With a lighter heart that she'd had in a very long while, Sara turned and fled from the throne room, preparing to enter her world for the last time.


	2. Heroics

**Heroics**

Sarah carefully let herself into the house that she shared with her husband. With any luck, he would still be at work and she would have at least an hour to gather her most precious possessions and flee forever. Dax, the small shaggy mutt she'd taken home with her from the pound last year, greeted her with his usual exhuberance. She fondly reached down and petted his soft tan head.

"We're getting out of here, Dax. No more pain and being scared all the time."

He wagged his tail a few times and whined hopefully. There was no time to lose.

Brushing a wisp of glossy dark hair from her face, she quickly mounted the stairs and ran into the bedroom, grabbing a textured carpet bag from the closet and throwing items into it from the dresser, the shelves, beneath the bed. A few dresses, undergarments, her old teddy bear Lancelot, the two books she'd written and a thick sheaf of papers that represented three quarters of the third. Her music box, a pair of sandals, a vial of perfume, her few cosmetics...she packed with the fury and swiftness of a doomed homeowner in the path of an incoming flood. Dax's few toys, her toothbrush, a box of jewelry she'd inherited form her mother. Socks and a pair of slippers, her laptop (which she put back a moment later with a small chuckle), lots of plastic beads she'd been collecting over the years (with a half-formed idea of one day giving them to Hoggle), and her husband's Rolex from the bathroom counter. She would give it to Jareth as a thank-you for granting her a way out of Hell.

The pillowcase was still stained on the edge with a little blood-spot where the cut on her lip seeped in the night. Her husband had been furious with her the night before for failing to buy low-fat sour cream for the baked potatoes. He'd called her a stupid bitch and threw the plastic tub of regular cream at her head, then grabbed her hair and banged her face into the congealing mess on the table again and again until the white sour cream was streaked with red blood, the edges turning pink, his shouts hurting her ears, Dax cowering under the table lest his anger turn to him next, as it often did.  
Never again.  
She would rather die than spend one more night in the house, with her bastard of a husband sleeping next to her still smelling of the neighbor girl's perfume. It made her sick.

Downstairs, the door suddenly slammed shut.  
Sarah froze, the carpet bag open in her hands, her face going white.  
Dax tore up the stairs and under the bed, as he always did when Ted came home.

"Sarah! Where the hell are you?! Get the fuck down here! Now!"

She didn't move. It was suddenly very hard to breathe, and she felt like screaming. Why was he home so early? Oh Christ...it was Friday. He always got off early on Fridays.

"You parked too far up in the garage, you stupid cunt! I had to climb over the god damn hood just to get in the door!"

He was coming up the stairs, furious and ready to deliver another beating for something she hadn't meant to do. Instinctively, she backed up towards the window.

"What the hell are you doing?" Ted demanded, appearing in the doorway. His gaze moved slowly from the bag in her hands to the open drawers, the debris scattered around the room. His face reddened, and he leveled an angry glare at her.

"And just where do you think you're gonna go, sweet cheeks? Got a boyfriend somewhere?" he asked, his voice suddenly going very soft and silky. Sara whimpered, backing up another step.

"Get away from me, Ted. I can't take this anymore. I...I'm leaving!"

"The fuck you are! Get over here right now!" he snapped, pulling the door shut behind him. He started to unbuckle his belt. "Get over here and bend over this bed and take your god damn medicine, bitch. You've been getting way too god damn willful lately. Maybe I've been too damn gentle with you. Stupid no-good whore!"

And he lunged for her.  
Sarah grabbed the closest thing to hand, a small crystal statuette that had been a wedding gift, and brought it down with all her strength on the side of his neck. He grunted like a boar and slapped it out of her hands, seeming to not even feel the pain. He struck her hard across the temple with his fist, causing her head to violently snap back and strike the mirror with such force that it shattered.

What happened next was _astounding_.

Ted smashed his fist into her face, causing an explosion of pain in her head and a great gout of blood to burst into her mouth. She fell to the floor, trying to shield herself, but Ted straddled her and grabbed her wrists, yanking them away and pinning them both together with one hand. He raised his fist again.  
but the blow never fell.  
A silvery light was coming from the broken mirror, shining through the empty space beyond the jagged pieces still clinging to the frame. Ted looked up, his fist still held over Sara's bleeding face. She started laughing, her teeth covered in blood, eyes beginning to swell closed already.

"Ted, you dumb bastard..." she wheezed, "You stupid, dead fool..."

"What...the...fu"

A white owl exploded through the mirror, talons tearing into Ted's face with a savagery that only pure hate could inspire. Ted shrieked, falling backward off of Sarah and flailing with his hands in a vain attempt to pull the massive creature off. The snowy bird held fast, however, its terrible beak dipping down to pluck viciously at Ted's eyes as though picking mice out of a barn floor. Sarah screamed, hiding her face in her hands to block out the awful sight, and her husband let out a sound that was so full of pain and terror it hardly sounded human at all. A moment later he passed out, his eyeless head thumping back against the floor with a hollow thud.

Sarah was shaking, crying, her head a mass of clotted blood and swiftly-forming bruises. She could hear the soft swish of the owl changing form, but she didn't look up.

"Sarah?"

How did he do that? Make her name sound like a caress even when his voice was tight with anger... She felt his hand on her cheek as he gently tilted her face up to inspect her wounds. He tutted disapprovingly.

"Still getting yourself into more trouble than you can handle, little girl?" he asked softly. Sarah shook her head, tears spilling from here eyes. She hated crying in front of him twice in one day, but couldn't help herself. Jareth touched her cheek, wiping away the salty moisture.

"Shhhhh, calm yourself. The worst is over, Sara. Have you gathered your things?"

Sarah leaned forward and rested her aching head against Jareth's shoulder, feeling suddenly very small and tired and scared. She wanted to get away from this place as soon as possible. Jareth allowed her a few moments of tenderness, stroking the back of her head a few times as she wept, but finally pulled away and reached under the bed. He fished around for a few moments, then pulled out Dax's shivering form. With one swift motion he tucked the dog under one arm, grasped the handles of Sarah's bag and stood up. He looked down at her with clinical detachment.

"Are you coming? Or have you perhaps changed your mind? I assure you, dear Sarah, that your husband will be most displeased with you when and if her ever wakes up. I can't always be near a mirror, you know. My daily duties consist of far more than rushing to the rescue of silly women who don't know how to kill their own husbands."

Sarah bit her lip, rising to her feet in silence. She was ashamed of the whole situation, and found that she couldn't meet Jareth's eyes. He was enjoying this, she suspected. Her hero, flying through the mirror to save her from the big bad man...it must be terribly ego-stroking to the Goblin King to know she now owed him her life.

But she was grateful.

With a last look at the messy room, her husband laying in a pool of blood on the floor, Sarah stepped through the mirror and back to the Labyrinth.


	3. Rest

**Compassion**

They were back in Jareth's throne room, a chill creeping into the musty stone enclosure. It was deserted.

"Follow me." Jareth beckoned to her with one hand, mounting the staircase.

Sarah hoped he wouldn't put her to work right away, though she hardly expected kindness at the moment. Many years had passed since the last time she'd been in this place, years that had done terrible damage to her heart and soul and body, but she guessed somewhere deep inside her mind that perhaps Jareth had undergone a similar unpleasantness due to her actions on that final day so long ago.  
_'You have no power over me...'_ she'd breathed, willing him to vanish. And he had. But it took years for her to realize that those words had been a lie.

Dax's tail was wagging. He smelled a thousand new things and couldn't wait to explore them. Jareth set him down on the landing of the second floor with a laugh.

"Run along, then. You're most welcome here." he said with great fondness. The little mutt wiggled all over happily, the trauma of the past hour (and the past six years of his life) forgotten in an instant as he dashed off down the hall to seek adventure. Sarah smiled gratefully at Jareth. It never failed to touch her when she witnessed someone powerful being kind to an animal. He watched the dog scamper away as fast as his stubby legs would carry him, smiling.

"Thank you, Jareth." Sarah said softly, laying a hand on his arm. He looked down at her, his eyes still holding a great deal of resentment. There was a slight smear of blood - her husband's blood -on his lower lip.

"I haven't forgiven you yet, you know." he said matter-of-factly.

"I know...I don't expect that yet. I just wanted to...uh..."

He was staring at her in a most peculiar fashion. She nervously dropped her gaze.

"Say no more of it for now. You and Dax are my guests."

"But I thought I would be your servant."

"You shall. But you will not be ill-treated here. And it might be best if you took a few days to recover before beginning your duties."

They entered a small room under the eaves of the castle, and Sarah sat down carefully on the narrow bed against a latticed window overlooking the Labyrinth. Jareth placed her bag on a wooden table and turned to face her, taking a seat gracefully on a carved chair near the bed. The way he sat, regal and relaxed at the same time, made even that rough piece of furniture look like a throne.

"How did you meet him?" he asked without preamble. Sarah drew her knees up to her chest and hugged them to her like a little girl.

"We...that is, I was working for a dance company. Painting sets and designing costumes. Ted was a choreographer that we hired on for a few months every year. I thought he was charming at first. And he looked like..." she trailed off, biting her lip as she did when she was nervous or unsure of herself.

"Like what?" Jareth demanded. He was clearly after answers, not hesitations. Sarah met his gaze defiantly.

"Like you, alright? He looked a very small bit like you, though I didn't recognize that at the time. I was attracted to that, to the way he made me feel. But he was jealous and cruel and he didn't care about my feelings. He was unfaithful to me over and over again, and I stupidly took him back every time and believed his lies..."

"How typically female."

"Thank you." Sarah returned icily, "And I suppose you've never wanted to believe in something so badly that you forced yourself to do it even against your better judgment?"

Jareth's entire countenance suddenly went rigid. Those odd, mismatched eyes were trained on her in a way she'd only seen on the Discovery Channel before, when a lion was about to bring down a gazelle or some other doomed prey.

"Actually, little girl, I have." he snapped, "You introduced me to a whole new category of emotions. So perhaps it is I who ought to be thanking you."

Sarah wiped furiously at her cheek, where a trickle of blood was itching as it dried. She started to say something truly nasty, but Jareth surprised her by leaning forward and cupping her face with his hand. It was the first real gesture of tenderness he'd ever shown her.

"Poor child." he said gently, pulling out his handkerchief and wiping away the blood. "You have absolutely no sense. Choosing a mate for such ridiculous reasons. I should turn you over my knee for your foolishness."

His voice held no anger, only a slight hint of teasing, and Sara forced herself to smile slightly.

"I thought..."  
"No, dear Sarah. You didn't." Jareth interrupted, then leaned forward and kissed her full on the lips. It was quite a different kiss from anything she was used to. There was something terribly grown-up and gloriously unreal about the feel of the Goblin King's lips on her own. She could smell the slight spiciness of his cologne, or perhaps it was simply his natural scent. So fine, so silken, his gleaming gold hair brushed her sore cheek, and she closed her eyes. When Jareth finally drew back, he did so very slowly, pulling her against his chest for a moment before letting go. It was a benediction, a small measure of comfort that wiped away all the bad feelings and lit Sarah's heart with hope for a brighter future.

"Truth hurts, little girl." he whispered, then stood up. "Rest here for as long as you like. I will have the servants bring you and your dog some food in a little while. You needn't worry for him...his kind is made very welcome here."

"You mean dogs?"

"Not exactly. I mean innocents."

Sarah nodded, suddenly feeling very tired. She lay back on the fluffy green coverlet, letting the cool breeze from the stormy skies outside soothe across her battered face. Jareth carefully drew a knitted blanket up and over her, tucking her in on the sides just the way her father used to when she was very small.

"Sleep well, my Sarah. I'm not done being angry yet, but you are forgiven for your past transgressions against me. You were a silly child. I cannot hold you accountable for that."

"Thank you, Goblin King." Sarah said faintly, and fell asleep.

Jareth let himself out of the small room, leaving the door open a crack for Dax should he wish to return this evening. He felt a warm glowing in the pit of his stomach that he could only assume to be triumph. Sarah had spurned him before, but she'd come back in the end. What had he told her once?

Ah yes... _'Fear me, love me, let me rule you and I will be your slave'._

What a stupid thing to say to a sixteen year old.

She had no concept of love at that age, just some amusing notion of romance and fairy tale endings. She'd been frightened of him, of his sensuality and the unspoken promise of passion he offered her. Not wanting to grow up wasn't a crime. Jareth sighed, descending te staircase to his throne room. Sarah's presence here would mean a great deal of changes were on the horizon. He wondered if he was ready. But then, deftly licking the spot of her husband's blood from his lip, he realized in a sudden rush of anger that he would be willing to put up with just about anything to keep her from experiencing such vicious abuse ever again.

"But I'll be damned if I ever tell her that." he said aloud to no one in particular. A few moments later, he was seated on the throne, listening to the complaints and compliments of his subjects once again.

Sarah.  
Such feelings of softness and mercy put him in a sullen mood, a difficulty that he rectified by banishing a family of thieving Trolls to the Bog of Eternal Stench for a full year.

Sarah slept through the night without waking, and when Dax came in smelling of strange herbs and foreign dust she didn't notice. Even when the little dog hopped up on the bed and burrowed in beside her she slept on. In her dreams, dark and sweet, she was dancing, dancing, dancing inside a vast glass bubble.

And she was dancing with Jareth.


	4. Exploration

**Exploration**

Sarah awoke late the next morning feeling refreshed and wonderful. The small room was flooded with bright lemon sunlight. Little green and scarlet birds sang happily outside on the window sill, and Dax was curled up under the warm blankets sleeping soundly.

"Hey, little guy." she said sleepily, patting his tummy. He grunted, rolled over, and sneezed.

It was soothing, being here in the Labyrinth and away from danger. Sarah felt better than she had in years. It was like being a little girl again. Dax was snoring again, the excitement of the day before had been too much for him, not to mention his explorations. Carefully, so as not to disturb him, Sarah slid out of bed and moved about to explore her new surroundings.

The room was cozy and comfortable, the walls washed in some warm orange-gold hue. The roof was slanted, her bed tucked into one corner under a window. There was a hand-woven, nubby sort of rug covering the stone floor, and as she looked at it a strange ripple ran through its mottled surface.

"Faeries! Faeries in the rug!"she exclaimed delightedly, for the carpet proved to be an ever-moving tapestry of some far-away landscape complete with embroidered grapevines, moving clouds, and a host of tiny two-dimensional faeries flittering from place to place like a flock of sparrows. She watched the rug for quite a while, sitting cross-legged in the center of the room with her dark hair spilling over her shoulders in the sunshine. Such a look of joy and pleasure carressed her features that it seemed to lift the years away. All the little lines of tension and pain that had formed over the past decade or so began to ease, her shining face more beautiful and reminiscent of her sixteen-year-old self than the tired thirty-something woman she had become.

The softest of knocks at the door preceded a stunning little fellow in a bright robin's egg blue vest and matching trousers, carrying a loaded breakfast tray. Right behind him pranced a satyr with his arms full of frothy spring colored dresses.

"Good morning, Miss Sarah! As good a morning as ever before!" the little creature in blue squeaked happily, laying the tray before her on the enchanted carpet. Sarah blinked in wonder.

"You're a Squirrel! Oh how wonderful!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands. He smiled, flashing a pair of pearly white front teeth, and twitched his magnificent gray tail.

"Thank you , my dear! I am Gatch Kittering, a humble servant in this place. His Majesty has placed me entirely at your disposal." here the Squirrel made a courtly bow, taking one of her hands in his soft little paws and kissing it gallantly. Sarah was reminded strongly of Sir Diddymus, her delightful fox-like companion from so long ago.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Gatch. Do you happen to know Sir Diddymus and his steed Ambrosious?"

"I do indeed! A remarkable fellow, and very noble. He is away fighting giants in the northern lands."

"Oh how awful!"

"Not at all, young woman, not at all! He adores quests like that, and nearly always manages to escape unharmed. King Jareth has completely forgiven him for his role in the Great Attack, and has named him General of the royal forces. It was quite an honor."

Sarah was delighted to hear that Diddymus was alive and well, but the words 'Great Attack' made her wince inwardly. Was that how it had seemed? She supposed it had been rather awful from the perspective of the Labyrinth's denizens. Here their King had done all a strange girl wished, including taking away her bothersome brother, setting a near-impossible task for her to overcome, conforming to her every whim and expectation, and she had destroyed his city. She suddenly felt very ungrateful and rude for doing so, and looked down at the breakfast tray to cover her embarassment.

"I...don't quite know how to respond."

Gatch flashed her a pert little smile.  
"You needn't, Lady. All has been forgiven or forgotten. The Labyrinth has a very long memory for joyful things and a rather short one for pain. In a fashion, it is simply one large Oubliette."

Sarah closed her eyes, smelling again the dust and stone in the little prison beyond the Helping Hands.  
"Yes, I suppose it is."

Gatch waited a decent interval before coughing politely to regain Sarah's attention.  
"If you are ready, and there really is no need to rush, but if you are ready perhaps I could have the handmaiden draw you a bath? And we've brought some new clothes for you. King Jareth has expressed concern regarding your attire. He called it..." Gatch furrowed his brow, trying to remember the proper word, "Stuffy."

Sarah laughed ruefully, casting her eye over the little heap of clothing she'd brought with her. The velvet and silks from her old life seemed so drab and tatty here in the bright room. She gratefully accepted the ministrations of the two friendly servants, and fifteen minutes later was sinking down into a tub full of hot water and fragrant rose-perfumed bubbles.

Gatch and the handmaiden quietly let themselves out, leaving Dax and Sarah to relax together in the slowly brightening room. It was glorious, lying there in the warm water with the scent of spices and stone filtering in through the window. She tilted her head back, wetting her long hair, sinking to the bottom of the tub with her eyes open. Hazy shadows played across the surface of the water, and here and there she could see past the heaps of bubbles to the bright ceiling above.

Another shadow, and suddenly there was a figure sitting down on the edge of the tub above her. Sarah came up an instant later, spluttering. It was Jareth, resting easy in fawn-colored pants and a deep indigo tunic. His hair shone like liquid gold in the pale morning light, and he was smiling.

"M-my God, what are you doing here?!" Sarah demanded, covering herself with her hands. He raked her with a critical gaze.

"I do live here, you know."

"In my bathtub?!"

"Don't be ridiculous, girl." Jareth snapped, not allowing his roguish smile to falter in the slightest. Sarah pursed her lips. He was positively gloating over her.

"Turn around so I can get out. I don't want you to stare at me while I'm naked. I've gained weight, damn it all. So just look away for the moment!"

Jareth stood up, moving gracefully to the balcony and turning his back to her. A host of minute faeries spilled forth from their resting places in the eaves, joyously circled their king's blond head once, and soared off to make mischief and confuse wanderers.

"You're fairly modest these days, Sara. Why the change in character?"

She found she had no reply to that. He was maddeningly on the mark. Slipping into the new clothing that Gatch had laid out for her was quite possibly the most delicious feeling Sarah had ever experienced. In the Labyrinth, clothing was made to feel as wonderful as it looked, and the satiny texture of the dress was like a kiss against her flesh.

Jareth, seeming to sense that she was now more or less decent, turned around again.  
His eyes shone as he beheld her, a vision in vibrant yellow watered silk. Her dark hair gleamed, wet from the bathwater and highlighted by the sunshine. Her hips swelled in a womanly hourglass, accentuated by the dark green sash tied loosely around her waist. From under the buttery froth of the hem her bare pink feet peeped out, endearingly precious. Jareth wanted to kneel down and press a kiss to each of her toes, to warm them with his breath, but his rigid sense of decorum stopped him.

"Sarah. You are...lovely."

She had the grace to blush.

"I'm not a child anymore, Goblin King. And you don't have to flatter me."

"Oh do stop it with all the formalities. Call me Jareth, the name seems to sound a bit more natural coming from you than over-blown respect that you really don't mean." Jareth reached out boldly and cupped her chin in his hand.

"Jareth."

"Shhhh. Close your eyes now, I'm going to kiss you."

Her blush deepened, and she tried to look away. "Come come, Sarah. It isn't as though you have never been kissed."

"It's...it's different..."

Jareth was drawing nearer, and Sarah found herself hypnotized by his gaze as completely as a bird by a serpent.

But there would be no flight for her now, not when pinioned beneath such a potent weapon as the eyes of King Jareth. No flight, no escape. And as Sarah's eyes closed of their own accord, she realized that she did not wish for escape.

His lips touched hers, and somewhere deep within her soul a flame stirred. Without pausing to think, she leaned into the kiss with all of her heart. Their tongues met, and it was as natural as morning, natural as birth. There was nothing but the taste of him and the feel of him, his arms around her waist, his hair brushing against her cheek. This level of intimacy was something she had never even conceived of when she was last before him. Only now, with the weight of the past lifting from her shoulders more every moment, did she finally acknowledge the words she had been longing to say since she returned to the Labyrinth.

"You do have power over me, Jareth." she whispered against his lips, and felt him smile.

"I know." he replied, and pulled back slightly to look down at her. "Little girl. Silly little Sarah still at play with her toys and her costumes. You never should have questioned to whom you belong."

She had no reply, and stepped away, wrapping her arms around herself and staring up at him.  
A chill breeze blew in from the window as the two of them considered one another. His eyes were haughty and triumphant, bearing the shadows of half-remembered pain. Hers were full of well-remembered pain with a hint of the triumph she had felt over this man and his kingdom so long ago.

They stood like that for a few minutes, until some hidden clock in another room began to strike the hour. Jareth shook his golden head like a man waking up from a dream.

"I have no time to dally with you. My duties consist of far more than watching you bathe, however diverting the spectacle." He turned to go, leaving her standing in her bare feet by the window with her soul in turmoil.

"What should I do now, damn it?" she asked, and there were so many levels to the simple question that Jareth did not know how to answer her.

"Walk Dax." he replied, and was gone.


	5. Recollections

**Recollections**

Sarah slowly sank to her knees on the enchanted carpet after Jareth had gone, her lips still tingling from the impossibly wonderful and confusing kiss he had bestowed upon her.  
Her child's heart was opening like a flower, but her woman's heart rebelled.

Ted.

Their first kiss had been wonderful too, like summer come to stay all the year. She let her mind wander back to that day, to the first magical moments backstage.  
Her brother Toby had died only a year before, from a drug overdose that many believed to be deliberate. Sarah was still not recovered from that hideous event, and she'd leaned into her new love with less caution perhaps than she should have. The whirlwind of romance and tenderness filled her head and her heart with the bright carnival spangles of hope, but in the end she found only despair and an aching sense of having been betrayed.

Only time would heal these wounds, her therapist had told her, but the woman had no idea what she was talking about. The silly bitch would sit there in her prim little office chair with her clipboard on her knees and dispassionately watch Sarah go to pieces for fifty minutes every Tuesday afternoon. In the end, Sarah had stopped going to the therapist's office, and had instead used the money to buy fresh flowers once a week for the grave of her only brother.

Everything started to go sour when Ted decided Sarah wasn't enough for him. He'd cheated on her with a long-legged dancer, then with a dental assistant, then a stripper, then the girl who checked out their groceries at the Stop 'n Go. Every time, Sarah found out and was crushed. A crumpled phone number in his pants pocket, a strange woman calling the house late at night, a motel calling to say that 'Mrs. Stevens had left her earring behind last weekend in the room.' When she confronted him, he would promise it was the last time. That the other women meant nothing to him, it was just a little fling because he was bored. Whatever.

The beatings started when he caught her talking to a male naighbor one evening over the hedge. It wasn't anything intimate...just talking. Ted flew into a rage and accused her of sleeping with the man. He called her a slut, and slapped her. That was the beginning.

It only got worse after that, culminating at last in the bloody confrontation that left her husband eyeless and quite possibly dead and herself transported permanently to the last place in all of creation that anyone would know to find her. No one could get to the Labyrinth unless they knew the Doorway, and no one knew the Doorway unless they had already been there.

There would be questions, official questions from people who might have the power to put her behind bars for her part in Ted's mauling. No one woul dbelieve that she had nothing to do with it, every single one of their neighbors had witnessed the ugly fights between them. She couldn't leave this place, not ever. But she had nothing to go home to anyway. Dax was all she had, little happy puppy chasing the zooming faeries in the rug, and he was here with her and wasn't ever going to be in danger again.

Jareth had all the power now, just as he'd somehow had even when she told him he didn't. Quite suddenly Sarah felt as though a terrible illness of pain and suffering was falling away from her soul. No matter what happened now, it was a thousand times better than her life had been before coming here. Even as a slave she would be treated more respectfully than anyone had treated her in a long time. Maybe Hoggle was still around. Maybe Ludo. Gatch had already told her that Sir Diddymus was about. Her old friends, her dear old friends who loved her unconditionally all lived here. Everything was here.

It made no sense to be sad any more, even though a part of her still mourned for her lost life, for the life that she should have had and never would now.

Walk Dax, he'd instructed. Sarah pulled out his leash from the shabby pile of her things and affixed it to his collar. Slipping on a pair of immaculate green slippers set out for her by the door, she walked purposefully through the stone hallway, paused to admire a painting of Jareth done in painstaking acrylic, and wandered down the stairs with the easy grace of one who has just lost fifty pounds. Dax hopped exuberantly beside her, hardly able to contain his delight at th prospect of a long walk. Sarah found herself feeling rather the same way.

She smiled and stepped out into the dreamy bejeweled haze of a perfect morning. Heavy-ladened fruit trees lined a paved pathway out the back door, their drooping branches being relieved by white-clad girls with woven baskets. Everyone was talking and laughing, at ease and enjoying their work. Sarah gratefully accepted a flame-colored tangerine from the closest fruit-picker, who tossed it to her with a smile and a word of welcome.

"Help yourself, Sarah-from-the-otherland! The King has said that you may have whatever you like!"

Sarah leaned down and unclipped Dax's leash, allowing the straining puppy to tear off after a dusty green butterfly. She peeled back a strip of sweet-smelling rind and popped a section of the citrus fruit into her mouth.  
It was fantastic, amazing, the most delicious thing she had ever tasted.

"Oh my goodness!" she said, mouth full, juice dribbling down her chin. The young girl laughed happily.  
"I know! They're pretty good this year! You need to try the peaches!"

"Am I dead? Is this Heaven?"

"A haven, yes!"

Sarah didn't bother to correct her. She looked around at the other workers. All of them seemed well-fed and delighted. "Are you, forgive me for asking, are you servants here?"

"Yes. Every one brought from the Northern Plains, from little villages here and there."

"I've never heard of the Northern Plains. Does this land extend beyond the Labyrinth?"

"Oh, for thousands of miles. Welcome! Please call me Luka!" The girl was very slim and lovely, with softly curling brown hair and flawless milky skin, A slight smattering of freckles dusted her nose, and her eyes were very blue. She was friendly and sweet and couldn't stop smiling. Sarah found herself smiling back without even meaning to.

"I'm going to be a servant too, I think. I wonder what Jareth will have me doing..."

Luka studied her carefully, still grinning.

"Is that what you heard?"

Sarah nodded, feeling a little nervous thrill inside her suddenly.

"Ah well. You know rumors." Luka said dismissively, and scurried back up her ladder.

"Wait! What did you hear?" Sarah called out, but the girl was already lost among the higher branches, her position only betrayed by a slight rustling of foliage.

Dax's happy bark pulled her attention away, and she looked around for him. He say, looking for all the world like a little Christmas tree, bedecked with bright butterflies of varying shades of green. They were opening and closing their wings languidly, and if they were distressed by the presence of a larger animal they gave no sign. Sarah burst out laughing.

"Oh, you silly dog. Dax, honestly!"

He shook his head, dislodging a cloud of lepidopteran beauty which quickly re-settled the regions south of his floppy ears. Sarah shooed them away and picked up her wriggling companion. Dax wagged his whole body and licked her face.

"Do you have any idea how disgustingly cute that is?" a gruff voice asked, and Sarah whirled around.

Standing in the shade of an enormous apple tree, leaning on a spade and smoking a fat black pipe, was a small and breathtakingly ugly little man that Sarah recognized instantly.

"Hoggle!" she cried, and was down on her knees in the verdant grass hugging him before he could so much as squeak in surprise. For it was. Hoggle, her faithful and lion-hearted (deep down) friend from so many years before. He was fatter and older than she remembered, and his grumpy demeanor had not changed much, but he seemed to be overjoyed to see her in his way. They were soon chatting away as though the years had been only days, sitting at leisure under the nodding apple tree in the shade.

Sarah found, to her delight, that Hoggle had been given the position of gardener for the castle grounds. Jareth paid him a decent salary and provided a tidy little cottage just there - Hoggle pointed - under the shelter of that oak thicket.

"Are you still scared of him?" Sarah teased. The old dwarf shook his head.

"Not anymore. After you left all the fire went out of his eyes."

"I feel rotten about that."

"Don't! That's just silly, after what he did to you!"  
_'Good old Hoggle'_, she thought, _'Always on my side no matter what'._  
She decided not to tell him about Ted.  
"It's good to be back." she said instead, and patted his gnarled old hand.

And, oh God, it was.

When Sarah finally returned to the castle, windblown and happy, she found a note lying on the floor in front of the doorway.

_"Sarah",_ it said, _"Please join me for dinner this evening in the main hall. - Jareth"_

_  
_No flowery language, no intimate comments, just a courteous invitation to dine with him. So why did it make her tingle all over? She held the note to her face, breathing the faint scent of his spicy cologne. Because she was falling in love with him all over again, and it scared her right down to the deepest parts of her heart.


	6. Amusements

**Amusements**

Sarah gently set the invitation down on her dresser and looked over at Dax, who was already up on the bed and curling round himself in preparation for a long nap.  
"What am I going to wear?" she wondered aloud, and instantly felt childish and embarassingly girly for expressing the question. As if it mattered anymore, at this stage, how she looked.

She brushed the tangles out of her long hair and, without thinking, caught it up in the back the way she used to when she was much younger, looking about for a clip. She found one in the bottom of her bag, and fastened it snugly against her head, then rooted through the pile of clothes that Gatch and his nymphs had brought. A misty green waterfall of a gown, heavy with a sprinkling of glass beads as clear as rainwater, rose to the surface of the heap as she searched. Sarah picked it up and held it in the sunlight before her.

It brought to mind cool hollows in deep still pools under steadily drinking willow trees. How on earth did the people who fashioned these clothes do it? She stepped out of her frothy yellow creation and into the green watered silk. She glanced at the pile again as she deftly tied the sash. A crimson gown like fire smouldered on top, partially covering a gray-green dress of mossy coolness that expressed the shadowy hollows of a cave beneath the mountains. A pale blue cloudscape of material spilled out under that, almost artistically folded in with a gleaming silver creation as slinky and sensual as a spring shower. Gossamer ribbons of cloth of the deepest black curled as elegantly as a shred of midnight near the bottom of the pile. It was amazing...Sarah had never seen such garments in all her life. If she'd been capable of designing costumes such as this back in the days when she worked for the theater, she would have been world-famous withing a matter of months.  
Like a young girl, she twirled around in front of the mirror to admire the watery delight coursing over her womanly figure. She reached for her cosmetics bag, touching up her face and hiding the small wrinkles, the tiny blemish on her cheek, the bruise under her eye and the bruises on her lip.

There.  
Perfect.

She looked down at Dax, snoring happily on the bed in the soft orange glow of the sunset. He at least was feeling no trepidation, no fear of the past and painful hopes for the future. Sarah impulsively reached down and picked up the small dog, cuddling him to her chest like a baby the way she had when they'd first found each other...and after every mean-spirited kick or blow that Ted had delivered to him. Dax made a soft mewling noise of irritation at having been awakened from his nap, but he was by nature a very affectionate fellow.  
She set him down gently, tucking the coverlet over him with great love, and let herself out quietly.

The stairway down to the main hall was lit with small, ornate silver cages hanging here and there from brackets in the wall. Within each tiny gilded enclosure a single fairy cavorted and glowed on a velvet-covered swing. The muted light each one cast was scarely greater than a very bright firefly, but together their combined luminosity was bright enough to send the evening shadows flying.  
Sarah's soft-slippered feet made no sound on the warm stone. She followed the smell of good food and wine down to the gaily decorated banquet hall. Jareth looked like a golden king (which, she reminded herself inwardly, he was), seated at the head of a long table laid out with fresh flowers and garlands of fragrant appleblossoms and cherry boughs. He rose to his feet as she entered, ever the cultured host, and extended his hand to her.

"Sarah. You look simply...enchanting."

She found she could not speak right away, so great was the lump in her throat. He held her hand in his and lightly spun her around, looking her over with satisfaction.

"The clothes of this realm suit you better than those unpleasant indigo pants you were wearing last week. What do you call them? Lee-vyes?"

Sarah smiled and blushed slightly. He smelled wonderful, even better than before, and the fairy-light in his mismatched eyes was every bit as sensual as in her darkest, most secret fantasies. Impulsively, she leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek, reveling in the tender brush of his golden hair against her face.

"Shall we sit?" he asked, gracefully indicating the empty chair beside him. Next to him, at one end of the table, not down the length and at the other end the way she'd seen royalty eat in movies. It was cozy and intimate, with no need to shout to one another to be heard. She lowered herself into the chair gratefully, inhaling the lucious scent of the fresh blossoms.

Jareth delicately pushed her chair closer to the table, then sat down himself in the beautifully carved throne of deepest ebony. The light from at least a thousand beeswax candles in little silver holders illuminated the room with more warmth and color than the noonday sun, and Sarah found that she could not stop staring at the reflections in her host's eyes. He did not look away.

A goblin with fuzzy orange hair poured a measure of wine for her to taste, and she obligingly lifted the glass to her lips, yearning to drown the feelings in her heart with something other than the warmth and tenderness she imagined she saw in her host's eyes. Jareth lifted his own glass in a silent toast to her and took a sip.

He regarded the ruby liquid in the light from the candles and said, almost offhandedly, "There is no shame in admitting that you made an error, you know."

"What?"

"An error. In your judgment. You made a leap in the direction of love, an idealized view of love that you were hoping with all of your soul to be real. You jumped the wrong way, that is all. There is no reason in your world or mine for you to forget all the joy and the love that you experienced with your husband in the beginning, or for you to forget what it felt like to love someone else with the intensity that you did. The tragedy here is that he was unwilling or unable to return that love. But there is no shame here, Sarah. None whatsoever."

Sarah looked at the floor. She felt the familiar sting of tears again, and it made her heart ache.

"I know your pain."

"Do you?" she whispered, and Jareth laughed softly, ruefully.

"Better than you think. You left this place, broke my heart, and taught me something about the meaning of pain. But when you went away to live your life and play with your toys and costumes and marry the dashing dancer and make a go of it in the world, I remained."

She raised her eyes to meet his, and he leaned closer to her, the warmth of his breath against her moist cheek.

"I remained, Sarah. I remained, bitter and broken and brooding, loving only you while all the world fell down, just as I promised I would."

Sarah rested her head against his shoulder and let the tears come silently, bathing the wounds of her soul with a healing potency that made her sigh with misery and relief.

"I am so..."

"Sorry? No, don't be sorry, Sarah. Just as you broke me, you taught me as well."

"What could I possibly have taught you? I was a stupid little girl and I behaved badly."

"You were a beautiful, strong young girl on the bright edge of womanhood. You made me question whether I wanted - "

"Turkey or fish, your Highnesses?" a goblin broke in cheerfully, pushing a heaping platter between the two of them. Sarah stifled a small giggle at the look that came into Jareth's eyes at the intrusion, a kind of exasperation she'd seen on her father's face many times when she was growing up.

"Oh hang it all, Kibblick, you are _such_ an irritation sometimes. Leave the platter, thanks."

Sarah touched his arm.

"Whether you wanted?"

Jareth's expression softened, and as always happened when he was feeling gentle, he looked slightly petulant.

"Whether I wanted to force love to alter itself to suit me or alter myself to suit love."

Sarah's heart caught in her mouth. What an incredibly romantic and unexpected thing for him to say, and so well-timed. She trailed her fingertips down to caress the back of his hand, looking steadily into those haunted, haunting eyes.

"And now?" she promted.

"And now, Sarah, I think you've already been altered by your foolish decisions. You'll suit me well."

Sarah stared at him. Was he serious? All of the tender words and the veneer or reasonableness and repentance and understanding were suddenly eclipsed by his incredible pig-headedness. She wanted to stab him with the cutlery.

"Altered?" she asked dangerously. Jareth smiled, giving every indication of being the perfect gentleman.

"Damaged, altered...you select the proper designation. Sarah, my Sarah. You needed to be broken before you could truly return to me."

"You act like I did this on purpose! Like I somehow wanted to be abused so that I could make myself a better..." she searched for the proper word.

"Lover?" Jareth ventured, amusement lighting his eyes. Sarah glared at him.

"You wish!"

"Well, didn't you? The mistakes you made were so extravagantly glaring that they had to be intentional. I mean, what human from your world could fail so miserably by accident?"

"How dare you! You're insane!"

He raised an eyebrow, a quizzical smile on his handsome lips.

"Are you in love with me, Sarah?"

The question took her by surprise, and a heady blush rose in her cheeks.

"I - "

"Answer the question, girl! It's a simple one, after all. Are you in love with me?"

Sarah fell silent, turning her attention to the food on the plate before her to buy herself some time. She took a bite of turkey, some fish, a large spoonful of potatoes. Mixing her food together like she used to when she was younger, taking a large drink of the wine and almost immediately choking on it. Jareth watched her, amused, as she recovered and glared at him, holding a napkin to her lips.

"Watching you eat is almost as sensual as swimming naked through a tub of worms." he commented drily. Sarah took another bite, determined not to be baited this time. After a while, he joined her, his manners impeccable. She felt foolish suddenly, and put down her fork.

"I am." She whispered, barely audible. Jareth paused, setting down his goblet.

"Indeed?"

"Yes."

"Say it. Say it aloud so you can hear yourself. Then perhaps we can dispense with your irritating sensitivities and your foul attitude toward me."

He was the most arrogant, infuriating...

"I am in love with you." Sarah found herself saying through her anger, and the moment the words were out she knew that they were the truest she had ever spoken. With fluid grace, he reached over and placed his hand on hers.

"I know." He answered, and without so much as a second glance, returned his attention to the feast. Sarah glared at him, hating how gorgeous he looked in the firelight and how desperately she wanted to throw him bodily to the floor and tear his clothing off with her bare hands.

"Your mind is an open book here, Sarah. Remember that." Jareth said, smirking. He favored her with a glance, "My clothing is far too expensive to treat in such a wanton manner. It would be a better idea to wait til after dinner."

"You bastard! How dare you - "

"Temper, my dear! After dinner, when we have danced in the garden to the music of the fauns and you've kissed me with all the lust I see burning there in your eyes, THAT will be the proper time to retire to my chambers, where you are welcome to beg me to make love to you until dawn. And I may, if you plead prettily enough. But not now. You should eat. Your dinner is getting cold."

Sarah's mouth hung open a fraction of an inch in shock, and she was struck absolutely speechless with rage. She tried for a full minute to get her voice back, then gave up and angrily reached for her wine glass again, draining it.

Dinner progressed in total silence, one diner looking mutinous, the other wearing an expression of sublime delight. Nothing seemed to please the Goblin King more than causing his dark-haired companion to descend into apoplectic fury.

Sarah couldn't stop staring at him. She was distracted by how compelling the idea of making love until dawn seemed.

How could so much love and so much loathing live side by side in the same heart? It made no sense!

He was, simply put, the devil.


End file.
