Disclaimer: I own nothing save the plot and blah blah blah...

Jareth snorts derisively: Obviously you don't own anything; you're just some little writer trying to garner feedback on your abilities without having to deal with face-to-face criticism.

Sarah: It probably isn't smart to be rude to the author, Jareth. She could totally kill you or something with just a few keystrokes.

Me smiling evilly: Indeed I could, goblin king...Or I could totally make you sappy and fluffy and totally pathetic! MUAHAHA!

Jareth stares in something like horror:...You wouldn't.

Me: But I could.

Jareth: But you wouldn't.

Me: I dunno, goblin king...I CAN be cruel...

Sarah giggles.

Jareth glares at us both: Don't you have a story to begin, writer?

Me: Oh, yeah, that. Well, here it is, my first Labyrinth fanfiction! Please don't forget to leave a contribution in the little box on your way out!

"Just fear me, love me, do as I say, and I will be your slave." The tone in which the words were spoken was equally cajoling and compelling, but Sarah didn't pay them any mind. She was too busy trying to remember the damn line. My kingdom as great, my kingdom as great…

She didn't notice that she was muttering out loud, her eyes unfocused as she tried to picture the words on the page; it hadn't been too hard to figure out that her own little adventure was just a teensy bit similar to the girl's own in the book she had been reading in the park ages ago. The words had worked for the girl in the story; why not for her?

They probably would if you could remember the line! She thought furiously at herself, trying not to glance at the powerful Goblin King, afraid she might wind up cast under the same spell that had had her in that stupid ballroom. Wait a minute…power…

A light bulb clicked inside her mind, and she looked up into the handsomely thin face of the king, who was staring at her expectantly as he held out the crystal balanced on his fingertips closer to her. An enticing picture, sure, but Sarah needed Toby back, whether the Goblin King meant his offer or not.

"You have no power over me." And with those six little words, fifteen year old Sarah Williams defeated the Goblin King.

Seven months later

Sarah lightly pranced down the stairs for breakfast, hoping that Irene, the woman who Sarah had hated for no reason other than that she wasn't her mother and now hated because she the woman was an absolute witch with a capital B, would be nice if she saw Sarah in a good mood. A lot had changed in the six months that Sarah had done the most selfish thing in her young life, the first and foremost being Sarah herself; she stopped dressing like a fantasy character, she had gotten rid of the junk in her room and had only allowed certain items to be incorporated into the new, slightly more mature décor of her room. She had eventually stopped being an angst-ridden, petulant teenage-brat, and had settled for only arguing when she really was being treated unnecessarily poorly. Like when the now two-year old Toby had gotten ahold of Sarah's sketchbook and had ruined numerous drawings, prepared to do nothing more than accept it as an accident only to find that Irene had purposely given him the book to color on. Sparks had flown on that night, only to be extinguished when Robert came home. If Sarah and Irene had one thing in common, it was their love for Robert. They had an unspoken agreement that they could hate each other as much as they wanted, but when Robert was around, they were on their best behavior.

And as for Toby…Sarah had actually grown to like the little tyke. How could she not? He had a naturally sweet disposition (not taking into account your normal toddler behavior, of course) and these big blue eyes and angelic blonde curls that just made her want to pick him up and squeeze him until he squealed with laughter. Which he now did frequently when in her presence, as when he used to just bawl and wail from her neglect.

Irene had made eggs, bacon, hash browns, and toast for breakfast. Sarah smiled; if Irene had made food that she knew Sarah liked, than it was bound to be a good morning between them, wasn't it?

"Morning," she chirped as she approached the table, planting a kiss on Toby's soft hair as she passed his high chair.

"Sawah!" he shouted gleefully, banging his spoon on his little plastic plate, "Good mor-ing Sawah!" she grinned at him as she took her place at the table beside her father. His baby-talk was just too cute.

"Toby! Good morning Toby!" she said happily, careful not to shout so as to not annoy Irene, "Morning, Dad." She said, rolling her eyes when she received an absent reply, her father's eyes staying glued to that day's newspaper. She looked at her stepmother. "Good morning Irene."

Irene, with her hair and makeup perfectly (if a bit stuffy and pretentious in Sarah's opinion; staying home with Toby required real pearl stud earrings and lipstick?) done, gave Sarah a small smile.

"Good morning, Sarah." She said, her polite and impersonal tone mirroring Sarah's. Robert hadn't known what to make of the sudden truce between his wife and daughter, and it had taken a few months before he stopped warily watching the two for signs of aggression whenever they were in the same room together, but now he didn't even bat an eyelash when the two were polite to one another.

Looking down, Sarah was glad to see an unused plate at her place setting, and began place food on it. While Sarah had actually never been a picky eater, despite delving into all other degrees of difficulty and bratiness, there were still just certain foods that didn't agree with her palette. Like oatmeal, for instance; she hated oatmeal. And for a week straight not too long ago, that was all Irene had made for breakfast, probably in retaliation for Sarah showing up fifteen minutes late for babysitting Toby. And that time her tardiness hadn't been her fault in any way possible; the bus she used to take home had been running late.

Breakfast passed as uneventfully as it could with a toddler at the table, and twenty minutes later Sarah was dressed in jeans, white keds, a more grown-up version of the baggy poets shirts she used to wear, and a denim jacket. Her clear, pale peach skin and light green-gray eyes were makeup free, but even without the enhancement of cosmetics, Sarah was one of the loveliest girls in her class. Looking more and more like her mother every day, as her father would have said. But Sarah still didn't see it; she just saw a slim, dark haired girl with eyes that could never decide between being gray and green, and a nose that Irene dubbed "enviable."

Although her body had matured a tad more in the seven months since she had wished her baby brother away to the big bad goblin king; her face had lost just a bit of its baby fat, and she had grown out of her training bras. Irene had told her, on one of the rare occasions where she was being completely and absolutely nice to Sarah, that she made a gorgeous girl, but would grow into a beautiful woman. She'd blushed and said thanks, but hadn't responded beyond that; she'd been too flustered.

School past by in a blur; despite being a daydreamer, and a bit of inside-the-box thinker, she actually got good grades. Not great, mind you, but they were nothing to complain about. What she had trouble with mostly was math; it wasn't that she didn't so much understand it, she just hated numbers with a passion. All of the formulas and symbols and what not…she loathed it all. But her father, an accountant, helped her when he could and tried to dumb things down for Sarah when necessary. Add on the fact that she felt any skills beyond those of basic arithmetic were completely and absolutely useless (seriously; when would you ever need to find "x" in real life?) and math and Sarah Williams would never be friends.

She excelled in reading and writing, was athletic enough to garner some enjoyment out of gym, and didn't mind history or geography, but she was still relieved when the school day was over. No matter how hard she'd tried, she'd never fit in with kids her age, and over the years she stopped caring about having friends and was simply grateful that no one bullied her, unlike some of the other students who were different. So all in all, besides an education, school did absolutely nothing for Sarah.

She happily walked in the front door of her home later that day, but cringed when the sounds of a fussy Toby reached her ears. Her parents were probably trying to get ready for some event or dinner party that they had to go to, and Toby hated it when he felt like he was being ignored.

"Dad? Irene?" she called, walking to the stairs.

"Oh, Sarah, thank goodness." Her father appeared at the top of them, holding Toby, who was currently bawling. "We were wondering what to do with this little guy, but now that you're here…?" He still hesitated whenever he had to ask her to do something for Toby, expecting the old Sarah to rear her head and start yelling and crying about the unfairness of it all. She smiled and dumped her backpack on at the foot of the stairs, going to take Toby from his arms. Robert threw her a grateful smile.

"Thanks, honey. Irene and I are just about ready. Would you mind putting Toby down for a nap? He didn't want to take one earlier, and it shouldn't interfere with his bedtime."

"Sure; no problem." She looked at the already quieting toddler, smiling. "See? I'll tell you a nice story, and then you can take a nap with Lancelot, okay?" He nodded, sniffling.

"Wanna tory." He mumbled, and Sarah, used to his baby talk, knew that he had actually meant "want a story."

"How about I tell one with goblins and girls and kings?" she asked, making her voice excited as she went into what was no Toby's nursery; he'd been moved out of his parent's room not too long ago.

"Kay." Toby answered, rubbing at his eyes. She knew he was scrubbing at the drying tears, but he was also probably getting tired, having not had a nap recently. He'd likely conk out before Sarah finished her story.

Ever since wishing Toby away to Jareth, King of the Goblins seven months ago, and then fighting to get him back, she'd treated him, and everyone else for that matter, a lot better. Those thirteen (no, correction; he'd stolen about four hours from her, so it was actually nine) hours had changed her, due largely to the fact that she'd learned so many lessons whilst travelling through his labyrinth. She smiled as she set Toby in his little toddler-bed and pulled the rocking chair that was in his room to the bedside. Once Toby was situated, Sarah began her story.

"Once upon a time, there lived a young girl who was selfish, and spoiled, and thought that no one cared about her, all because she had to watch her little baby brother sometimes. She treated everyone around her unfairly, accusing them of treating her poorly, and grew to dislike the baby, who was nothing but a sweetheart."

Nibbling on her lip, Sarah continued. "And one night, when the baby was just being a little fussy, and the girl's parents had left her all alone with him, the girl yelled and yelled, feeling sorry for herself and blaming the child. Fed up and tired, she picked up the child, and called upon the goblin king."

"'I wish—" she caught herself, just barely stopping before she spoke those evil words. She'd run the labyrinth for Toby once; she wasn't sure she could do it again! Besides; that would mean facing the goblin king again, and she didn't think he would be too magnanimous if they came face to face again. "And so the girl wished her brother away to the goblins, who immediately took the child and left the girl to deal with their dangerous and clever king."

Toby was staring at her, a tiny frown marring his face. "That not how it go."

"What, Toby?" she asked, blinking at him.

"Girl said "I wish da gobbins would come and tay you away right now." Toby said patiently, and Sarah gaped at her brother. No…it couldn't work…not with Toby being so young…he'd only been reciting those words….Jareth wouldn't be that cruel…

But when the electricity clicked off and goblins began to peek out of the furniture, Sarah mentally slapped herself upside the head. Of course Jareth would be that cruel. And now that the goblins knew Sarah and Toby, they'd come right on over to claim the wished away child.

"Sawah?" Toby cried, moving closer to her, eyes on the fuzzy goblins that were popping out of random things. He sounded afraid, yes, but was that curiosity in his tone she heard? Then again, he had spent some time with these magical creatures; it was bound to have had some effect on him. Maybe in some way he remembered his time in the labyrinth?

She grit her teeth, expecting at any moment to find herself in Jareth's castle, surrounded by goblins and with his majesty staring down at her with a smug expression on his face, but nothing happened. Her eyes darted around the room, flicking back to the window every few seconds, just waiting for Jareth disguised as an owl to come barging through. She began to hyperventilate when she saw a goblin peek out at her from under the bed, which was much, much too close for her liking. Toby gasped, and when she looked back at him, his sweet little face was staring not at her or the goblins, but at something standing directly behind Sarah…

She closed her eyes in defeat when a long fingered hand clasped her shoulder, just a little too tight for her liking, and something soft tickled her as cool breath hit her ear, making her shudder lightly. The devestatingly familiar tones of the goblin king purred into her ear.

"Good to see you again, Sarah."