This story takes place after my other fanfic-What Could Have Been. Though you really don't need to read it to understand it. Rated for potential strong language and potential adult situations.

Also I don't own Labyrinth, much to my disappointment. Though I own most of the characters in this (excluding Sarah, Jareth, and Hoggle of course).

The Labyrinth had changed.

Oh, it was still infuriatingly complicated-and larger than what it seemed at first glance. The goblins were the same-mostly-still the natural pranksters and little fiends that no Fae had wanted to rule over until King Dereath. But, now, most of their pranks had lost their edge. They didn't lose interest-not completely anyway-but, they found their home different.

Sure they still took away wished away children-though they were exceedingly rare-and tried to go into the mortal world on occasion-only to be stopped by their king. But, they had long since lost their passion.

Other things had changed as well. Now instead of the bright blue skies, it was grey and overcast. While every session had been warm, now it was cold. Always cold.

One of the few who had lived through the changes was Hoggle. The little hobgoblin was one of the few the king trusted, though he and the king never got along. Just as Hoggle had never gotten along with the young king's father.

Hoggle sighed as he thought of the change. It had all started the second a wish had been made. A wish for a child to be taken. All in the Labyrinth knew the tale well-but few were still alive that had actually lived during that time. But now, the tale was forbidden to tell-the king had dipped a few who dared mention anything about it in the bog. Not that it actually mattered, since all knew anyway. Hoggle wondered sometimes what would happen if he told one of the younger ones when they grew old enough the tale-what the king would do to him. Hoggle had already been dipped in the bog twice now-both for speaking of a young girl from the tale. A young girl named Sarah.

Hoggle couldn't help another sigh as he remembered his friend. As he remembered his love. Yes, he had loved her. More than anything-he would have done anything for her. Now he wished he could have done things differently-like not giving her an enchanted peach. Like leading her strait for the castle instead of trying to deter her from her goal.

He looked up at the sound of footsteps, and saw a man in a cape as black as the nights that now haunted the Labyrinth-instead of the moonlight ones before Sarah- He cleared his throat, holding back the tears he still shed on occasion for the girl.

"What business do ye have 'ere?" Hoggle asked the stranger as soon as he was less then a foot away from Hoggle.

"This place reeks of different magic," the stranger commented. "I never knew Jareth to let the sky grow so dark during the day."

"Things have changed," Hoggle told the stranger. "Now, answer me question."

"Hmm? Oh, right, what am I doing here?" Hoggle couldn't see his face, but he was sure the man was familiar. "I was going to check on the old fellow, Jareth."

"Ye-ye don't know?" Hoggle barely managed to speak without stuttering. It was well known all throughout the fae realm what had happened. Just because it was forbidden to speak of it in the Goblin Kingdom didn't mean other kingdoms didn't speak of the change.

"I fear not, I fear I haven't' been here since, oh since Jareth first started his reign," the stranger admitted, and Hoggle automatically suspected him of being Fae-the only ones who could live such a long lifetime.

"Then ye haven't heard of the Labyrinth's first champion?" Hoggle asked cautiously, it wouldn't do for the king to over hear. No, it wouldn't do at all.

"Someone defeated the Labyrinth?" he could hear the anger in the man's voice; the anger reminded him sharply of Jareth's anger.

"Aye, but, its forbidden to speak of it," Hoggle shifted nervously.

"You've been in the bog haven't you?" the man said with a sniff; before abruptly throwing back his head and laughing. Once he calmed down enough he added: "That was always a favorite of Jareth's."

"Aye, it 'twas," Hoggle looked over his shoulder, terrified. The Fae paused enough to notice Hoggle's tense pose, the fact that he kept looking over his shoulder. The Fae cocked his head to the side.

"Was?"

Hoggle looked as if he'd been pricked, and he paled.

"Did I say was? I meant is, 'course I meant is," he barely managed the words.

"How long? I always knew he would abandon his post," the Fae demanded, reminding Hoggle of Jareth more and more with each second that passed.

"He didn't abandon his post," Hoggle told him truthfully.

"Oh, he didn't?"

"No, he…" Hoggle started mumbling, incomprehensibly, and the Fae leaned down as Jareth had so long ago, and knelt down on his level, chin in his hand. He caught the words 'champion' 'Sarah' 'm'lady' and several others that made no sense to him at all.

"Come now, you're making no sense at all," he looked the hobgoblin in the eyes, and for the first time Hoggle saw the man's twin brown eyes-so like one of Jareth's. "Who is this Sarah?"

"Now, now Hoggle. Spreading rumors like that will just send you back into the bog faster then you can blink." The Fae leapt to his feet, and Hoggle looked up at his king.

"Who are you?" the Fae demanded.

"I? I am the Goblin King," the king said simply. "Perhaps though, you should tell me why you are harassing poor Higgle here. And don't try my patience, its short enough as it is already."

"You? Where is Jareth?" the Fae demanded.

"My father," the king emphasized. "Is no longer here, whatever quarrel you have with him I have no time for." Hoggle looked the king over, knowing the Fae couldn't deny the king's words-especially if he had once met Jareth. The king had his father's wild locks, his sharp aristocratic features, and his blue eye-though both were blue in his son's case.

"What do you mean my son is no longer here?" the Fae demanded, and Hoggle realized he had been talking with the legendary King Dereath.

"Hey, what's going on?" the three looked over at another's sudden appearance.

"Ahh, Prince Logan, an honor, haven't seen you in a while…" Hoggle babbled nervously. He knew the king's brother was just as reluctant to speaking of the change as the king was.

"Yes, yes," he ideally waved his hand, dismissing the subject, and turned to his brother. "Who's the bastard in the hood?"

Hoggle compared the brothers in his mind for the millionth time. While the king was his father in looks and stature (not counting the eyes), his brother was a cross of his parents. His brother had the same blue eyes as his brother-and the eye of their father-but his features weren't as thin and narrow-though still aristocratic-and he had the same build as his brother and father-though more muscular-he had the raven black hair of his mother, and was taller than his brother by a good foot. Yes, Prince Logan reminded Hoggle painfully of Sarah-Sarah who could never have been Hoggle's.

"This Fae claims to be our grandfather," the king said with a sharp jerk of his head. Logan raised his eyebrows.

"So he claims, but really Gareth, give the man a chance to prove it before throwing him in the bog, hmmm?"

"Logan," Gareth warned in his ice cold voice. Hoggle wondered how Logan wasn't cowering under his brother's gaze. Gareth could make even some of his uncles cowers under his gaze.

"MY son has no children," Dereath said, though the words were fruitless-Gareth looked too much like Jareth and Dereath himself.

"Well then, I suppose he never existed as well, did he?" Gareth said, moving to lean against the wall behind him. "Well then, you may as well be on your way-because there is nothing here for you."

Hoggle could see Dereath grit his teeth under his hood.

"So Lillith has not inherited the Labyrinth?" he growled out-and Hoggle (though he didn't know who Lillith was) knew these were the exact wrong words to say.

Prince Logan was over Dereath in an instant-towering at least a foot over him-and King Gareth was right behind him-Logan's knife under Dereath's chin.

"Well, you are without a doubt our grandfather," Logan said icily, Hoggle backed away from the scene. Logan rarely-if ever-even so much as had a temper. Hoggle had seen it once or twice before-and he knew that whoever was at the end of his wrath stood little chance against him. Dereath's hood had fallen away to reveal where Jareth had inherited his aristocratic features, brown eye, and blonde hair.

"Apparently, I smell Jareth's magic on you," he glared up at his grandson. He turned toward Gareth as best he could with Logan's knife under his chin. "Though how he managed to have children-to have have two legit sons-is beyond me. He and Maverick were supposed to only be able to father bastards. And who is you're mother? I can catch no other scent."

"What do you mean?" Gareth asked, and Hoggle could see a drop of blood starting to flow down Dereath's neck.

"I mean Lillith was supposed to gain the Labyrinth," he said, glaring as best he could at Gareth while squirming under Logan's gaze.

"We made sure that neither of them could have legit children-how is it you gained the throne?" Gareth grinned-Hoggle knew to Dereath it would seem self-assured and cocky, but he could see the tinge of sadness in his eyes when Logan spoke.

"And did you even think of claims?" Dereath looked up at him. "What do you mean 'claims'? What coul-"

Dereath trailed off and his eyes widened, and he hissed,"of course! A virgin's claim! How could we have been so dimwitted?"

Logan and Gareth exchanged a look Hoggle knew well. It was a questioning look. And he knew what they were wondering: then how were we born?

-break-

"I don't know what to say," Logan said as Gareth sat behind the desk in his office with his feet up.

"Then don't say anything," Gareth said as he toyed with a crystal in his hands-which were bare. Logan could see the glint of the amulet hidden under his shirt that he had inherited from their father (the amulet, not the shirt).

Dereath was currently somewhere in the Labyrinth, Gareth and Logan both refusing to show him the way to the castle or giving him permission to enter the castle through magic-and Dereath was apparently unable to take the form of some winged creature.

"His explanation explains Uncle Maverick, but it does not explain us," Logan said exasperated.

"How in the world were we conceived?" Dereath had explained about the curse he and Lillith had performed-Berdium already had a daughter so they felt that was something they could not take away.

"Though, I never realized how twisted our cousins were, almost makes me glad I we don't have any on Uncle Maverick's side," Gareth said as he spun the crystal in circles.

"Well, with her having a crush on her own uncle-an then Tormod chasing mom's skirt," Logan said with a grin before it faltered.

"Do you think?" Gareth asked, knowing he didn't have to ask anymore than that.

"Yeah, I think they'll want to hear," Logan said as he walked towards the window. He summoned a crystal and whispered into it, before opening the window and blowing it towards the kingdom of the dwarves.

"Are you going to send one to the high queen?" Gareth asked without looking up.

"No, we'll keep this quiet for as long as we can before she finds out," Logan said as he watched the crystal until even his Fae eyes could no longer see it.