After her adventures in the Underground, the one thing Sarah always wondered is how she came to possess a book that told her own story--in advance of her having lived it. Well, that and why exactly the Goblin King came to love her, how he even knew about her. Questions she never expects to have answered, until her mother's debt to the Goblin King is called in, and she pleads for Sarah's help. What does she owe the Fae ruler of the nightmarish realm, and how does it involve Sarah?

Disclaimer: I do not own Labyrinth the movie or the book, or any of the charatcers, etc. and if I did I would have made sure to make an awesome sequel movie in which Sarah and Jareth hooked up. Sadly...once again...I do not own them. And I make no profit off any fiction about them. WHAT I DO OWN is my plot idea, and any original characters I fill up the plot with. Don't steal them, or borrow without permission, as it's very easy to ask me, being that I am more available and have more time on my hands then Mr.s Jim Henson and George Lucas for such questions.

Prologue:

Linda Avery was a free spirit, a wild tiger lily. She could not be tamed. Not that many tried; they did, however, try to absorb some of her zest for life into themselves by nearly suffocating her with their presence.

Not Daniel Williams, though. His shy, sweet air opened like a sunflower around her, reflecting her light but not stealing it for himself. His glow made her realize how much she herself lit up the world around her, and for that she loved him.

She was an actress, destined to be famous, her name in lights, well known on Broadway. She was skilled, and alluring in her seeming innocence, and people were drawn to her, like Daniel. But he was the only one she consented to marry. They had a little girl, whom she named Sarah, because the baby was gentle, and Sarah was a gentle name. Linda had always hated her name, but "Sarah" was softly romantic, and light on the tongue. Appropriate.

Of course, her nature never changed. Linda was also selfish, albeit adorably so. The call of the glamorous life of an actress was a stronger lure than motherhood, and she was gone frequently to parties, either after a show or to make herself known for a new one. Never mind the schedule of a show in production. And so it was, six unhappy years after Sarah's birth that Daniel gave up his hope for their household to ever be a happy one. Linda was simply not willing to spend any time with the people who's affections she already had--her family. It was time to cut the ties.

Sarah would take it hard. She worshipped her beautiful mother, with her shining cascade of dark hair, wide dark eyes, delicate cheekbones and angelic features. Her mother was slim and gently curved in all the right places, as pretty as a woman in her first flush of youth. A fairy tale princess, and Sarah would forgive her anything, even missing every one of the little girl's birthdays. All Linda had to do was laugh and tell her that darling, she had longed to be there so very much for her precious one, but the world had gotten between them. Sarah didn't understand exactly what that meant, but she figured in her childish mind that some big bad person wearing a shirt that said "world" on it had impeded her mother and made her late. It was never considered by the six year old that she wasn't high enough on her mother's social calendar to warrant timeliness.

But enough was enough for Daniel. No more of this flightiness in Sarah's life. She needed a better mother-figure. Little did he know the Linda herself would provide access to such a woman--in her own unassuming, selfish way, of course.

For Linda, for all her gaiety, was feeling the strain. She knew better than anyone what time it took to raise a family, and even going about it halfway it stole her away from the stage. She never should have married, never should have been careless enough to become pregnant. All her good years would go to some child who'd never appreciate it, until she was too old for anything but to be passed up for the leading roles in favor of fresher faces. It was time to cut the ties.

She knew the old wives-tale, passed on from her gypsy mother, whom she hadn't spoken to since she'd run away at age fifteen. It was another dark fantasy of an ancient inhuman creature whose ways were not that of mankind, and whom mankind had forgotten existed, and largely lost touch with. But not all had forgotten. The Goblin King, an ageless being, among others, took children. Only, he waited for an invitation, and would give the wishers a chance to repent of hastily wishing away nuisance children. It was not that he stole their youth, or ate them. He merely played a game, watching the runners through his immense labyrinth trying desperately to reach the castle at the center to retrieve their children in the set time limit--or they were his playthings for all time to do with as he wished.

Linda, who had forsaken her birth name but could not undo her childhood, halfway believed in it, and had never uttered the words to summon him. But one day while Daniel had left her at home with Sarah, and Sarah was crying for something Linda could not seem to produce for her, she muttered in exasperation. "Dreadful child! I wish the goblins really would come and take you away, right now!" And though it was a sunlit day, her living room went dark, but for a spot in the air where a white owl sailed in from nowhere, and goblins had grabbed at her ankles and seized the crying Sarah, and she screamed for herself, forgetting her child for the moment.

"As you have wished it, my dear," came a level voice, and she looked up as her lamp lights flickered and remained on at half their usual lamination. Or was that a light produced by the figure himself? For it was a man who stood before her, dressed in dark loose clothing, with hair that was long and blonde, and wildly spiked in the front. His eyes seemed to glitter, and after staring at him a moment her natural composure reasserted itself enough for her to realize the very air around him danced with motes of sparkling color.

"Who-who are you?" she stuttered.

He raised a brow and gazed scornfully down at her, and uttered one word--her true name. "And you whose people have always known me? Why do you ask what you already know?"

"Then-you're here to take away Sarah?" she managed, still half certain this was a hallucination. But her name, he knew her name...

"Will you test your wits against mine, little gypsy child? Or have you forgotten how to brave all unearthly?" he sneered. "You have no connection any more to the hidden truths of the world--of any world. Do you think you would win?" he asked, titling his head as if the question was of no importance. And to him, it was not.

Linda was a self-centered creature, but not entirely heartless. And she knew she would never win against the King, and his labyrinth. She had neither the courage, nor the ingenuity, or her mother's instinct. But she could spin words into spell of its own, and tried her only gift left at the moment.

"You know I would be no sport to you yourself. And against your labyrinth, I might well recall enough of the old ways to defeat it."

"Should you?" he asked lazily, unimpressed.

She forged on."But the child--she is the last of a line that believes in magic, and so has access to her dreams. And she knows nothing of you, has no knowledge of the arcane with which to cheat her way to victory. She is a true contestant!"

He looked mildly astonish for the briefest moment, his brows flicking up a millimeter. "You would set your own child to run my labyrinth--to free yourself from your debt?" His lips curved in a wicked smile, his tone mocking.

"Not now...but in a few years time she would surely beat you. She's bright--too bright, even." Linda caught herself shrugging. She knew enough of her own child to bargain with. "And she has a gift unmatched by any other I know."

He watched her with interest, as if she weaved her own net around herself. "And that is?"

She raised her chin a bit. "Luck."

His eyes darkened at once. Luck, the gift given by the bright one, who lived in the air and gave people all hope. The one who could not be touched, because no one knew its name to command it, nor could they harm a body it did not have. It was unknowingly revered by some mortals, and it cheated darkness and death out of their rightful prey.

Sometimes, one would be found that could do no wrong, with had a golden touch and never once was caught by the grip of evil. For some unknown reason this person was highly favored, especially if they were born to unfortunate circumstances. The bright one, glowing in unearthly light when seen by immortal eyes, seemed to enjoy flaunting its power.

But more often it was hard to find the favored one, for their luck was of the hidden kind≈they might miss a bus, and later find out it had been in an accident. Or they might forget something at home and run back it, and later find out they had evaded being the victim of some hideous crime such as a gas station robbery and murder. That kind of fortune was difficult to spot, when at first glance all that was seen was that the person missed an interview or lost their wallet--as might anyone else.

But oh, how some enjoyed killing the favored one. Especially the Goblin King, who had some much time to spend in between labyrinths that he took pleasure in seeking out those mortals the bright one so loved, in order to get back at it for stealing his pleasure. For a runner to win not because of their own merit, but because of blasted "good luck" frustrated him to no end!

"Bring me the child!" he demanded, and a group of diminutive, swarthy goblins carried the poor girl over. She had fainted. He grabbed her out of their hands, one clenched fist holding her up by the front of her pink shirt. Her held fell back but his rough treatment awoke her, and she straightened as much as she could, blinking blearily at his face. Her eyes went wide and her face pale, but his eyes were so dangerously frightening that she could not find her voice to yell.

'Her eyes, her eyes sparkle with the unnatural light of a favored one!' For they did; everyone remarked at what pretty, shining eyes the little girl had, especially when she laughed. But only an immortal could truly see the real glow, the light of a mortal touched at birth by a supernatural being.

Still...the light was not as bright as he'd expected. Could it be she was not chosen as the most-loved one, but was merely only somewhat special? Then, there could be a more special child out there, now ten years after the last favored one had been killed. This child could be a decoy. Or merely too young to glow as bright as the last and older one. The bright one liked to play games as well. This could be a trick.

Linda stood staring at him, only partially aware of what might be going on. Her mother always said that luck was given by the gods, but it had never occurred to her that not all "gods" were happy about this. She'd had no way of knowing the effect of her words, and her argument was only half-finished, never to be continued.

'I must watch her. The bright one could believe I'll leave her be, with such a dim light in her eyes. But I will keep an eye on this girl.'

He set her feet back to the floor and she ran trembling behind her mother. But she peeked out at him.

"I will strike a bargain with you, Linda," he said silkily. Her breath huffed out in shock. "Your daughter will run the labyrinth--in ten years time, when she is at the edge of childish belief and adult ability. But if she loses, I will keep you in her stead."

"And if she wins?" Linda was quick to ask, accepting her daughter's risk in her place.

He smiled cruelly. "If she wins..." he mused softly. Suddenly his gloved hand flicked out, as if summoning something--a crystal appeared on his wrist and turned his hand about so that it rolled in a perfect path across his palm and the back of his hand. "Do you know what this is?" he asked so quietly she strained to hear him. Her gaze was caught by the traveling jewel, as any mortal's will, filled with innate greed. She shook her head.

He smiled to himself, watching his own actions. "These are your dreams, Linda. Your most prized possessions. Do you want them?"

"Ye-yes!" she burst out before she could help it. "I mean--I wonder at what cost. I have no other child to offer."

"Selfish woman...betraying your flesh and blood is surely a sin?" he mocked her, knowing full well she wasn't faithful to the pretty cross she wore, given to her by her husband. She had no answer, her hand going to her throat.

"If the child wins...I will let her free, having earned her freedom. But I will take back your dreams and you will have to seek them out┘and the castle in the center of the Labyrinth."

"But! That's not fair!" she cried. "If Sarah wins, we are to be left alone!"

"If you want to play by the rules that win you freedom from my attention," he purred, flicking the crystal into the air, where it vanished, "then perhaps you should enter the Labyrinth yourself?"

"And...if I don't?" she asked hesitantly, feeling her silent daughter clutching her dress unaware of anything save that a Scary Man was in their living room and she wanted him to leave with his little ugly friends. Sarah stared unhappily at the tall Fae.

"Then I will take away the glamour that your mother stole from a fairy for you...the fairies are my creatures, and her theft was truly from me." His smile was malicious and knowing; in a flash she remembered that she had been a strangely ugly child until her third birthday, when she had ⌠grown out of■ her bad looks into the rare beauty she was today.

'That's not fair!' She glared down at her daughter, who had inherited her coloring but was secure in her loveliness, having been born to it.

"He knew! He knew all along! He was merely waiting to play on my fears, waiting to...to be bored enough, and for me to think myself safe...!'

There was no way she would get out of the fix she was in. He could have come at any time to reclaim his stolen magic, but he had waited until she was at the height of her mortal glory in her beauty-obsessed career field to taunt her with taking it all. He might punish her mother for her actions--but it was Linda that would pay the daily price. She would never achieve her dreams without her beauty.

She took a deep breath and drew herself up as tall as she could, trying to reclaim her dignity. It was useless but made her feel a bit more in control of herself. "All right. Sarah will run the labyrinth in ten years. If she wins, then...when must I run it?" For she fully intended to debrief her daughter as soon as she won, in order to cheat--forgetting that she was to abandon her family as soon as the papers for divorce could be filed.

The King merely shrugged slightly. "Whenever I desire you to. I shall save your humiliation for when I am truly pressed for entertainment."

If it had been anyone else...but she wisely kept her mouth shut.

Suddenly he gazed down at little Sarah. "Sarah," he said softly, "come here." His tone was insistent, and the little girl stood trembling for a moment before walking slowly, seemingly unwillingly, to stand before him. He looked down upon her smugly, and passed his palms in across one another in air, horizontally, and a book flashed in existence between them. He bade her reach up, and placed it in her hand. He looked up at Linda. "There must be rules," he said easily, "in order to determine when she has really lost."

"What is that?" Linda asked in a timid voice, wondering if she could use the book to her advantage. But the Goblin King saw through her act.

"Now, Linda, this is not for you. It is for Sarah, loved by the Goblin King Jareth," he admonished, waving his forefinger at her like any mortal.

"Loved?" Linda blurted out in frank amazement, briefly gasping at him. Sarah opened the book with interest, forgetting her fear.

He smirked. "So she shall believe. All stories must have a beginning, and I think you should not like me to tell her the truth?" She flushed slightly.

"Sarah will believe what the book tells her. But all else, until the time is right for each of you, you will...forget," he breathed, and at the last word the woman and girl passed out and fell to the floor. He waved a hand and they were moved by the goblins, silent but fidgeting all this time in the dark corners, to the couch, rearranged as if they'd fallen asleep--Sarah with her new book under her arm.

He took once last look at Linda, knowing she was an unworthy foe. But the girl...she was of unknown skill and strength of mind. And there was the matter of her luck. As he scrutinized his future runner, a hint of doubt crept in. He immediately banished it and departed back to his kingdom.

He would have done well to heed the voice of warning. For Sarah's luck operated at all times, in the most unexpected ways, serving to foil her enemies, known or not. In the very beginning it sought to level the playing field for her in the simplest way possible...and cultivated in her unusual natural beauty, a deep imagination and a pure soul despite her youthfully selfish heart. Her eyes never ceased to glow, and captivate everyone around her but the most bitterly stubborn mortals, who closed their hearts' eyes to it.

But an immortal can do no such thing--the truth is the truth, and they cannot miss seeing it merely because they did not like it. And so, as he carefully watched Sarah for signs of true favor, the Goblin King really did fall in love with the girl, and grant her special powers, though he didn't realize what he had done to thwart himself. He knew gave her power over her own destiny by means of supplying her with the words to escape, and all she had to do was mean them wholeheartedly, as simple as that. If she did, he could not stop her, could never bother her again without due cause, which frustrated him. He could not simple invent another game in which to ensnare her; he had to await her summons, which would not come.

But more crucially, he also gave her power over himself. And for a mortal to hold sway over a Fae's heart is more dangerous than anything, for nothing is more capricious than an immortal unbound by time, than a mortal that is.

Fortunately, Sarah did not know this latter truth when she met Jareth for the second time, and even if she had she would never have abused it in any way, not being that sort of person.

It was only when she met him for the third time, drawn by her adored mother's plea for assistance, that she began to question the truths in her book--much to his mixture of dismay and delight; for how would the race end this time? Only Time would tell...

A/N: Please review, and let me know what you think of the idea. This is my first time writing a Labby fic--though I've certainly read a lot of them!--and any advice is welcome. Seriously, I will thank you and say other nice things to you if you post some kind words and/or constructive criticism. Flames will be ignored. If you're going through the trouble to write out a page-long comment on why my fics sucks, you seriously need a life, 'cause you could be using that time to read fics more suited to your taste while just ignoring mine.

P.S. I went back and edited this to make Sarah 16 originally, b/c though I think she was actually 14 or 15, when I thought about it...that's just creepy. And many seem to be unsure of her actual age, but if she's old enough to date, she's got to be at least 15, likely 16. Anyway, makes Jareth's interest less...well, again, creepy.