Ok, this is going to be my general statement for this story.

One - I know, you know, the world knows that I don't own any of it. Jim Henson, Terry Gilliam and George Lucas do foo!
Two -I am planning on abducting David Bowie, or at lease, attempting to… In my head. :D
Three - I have yet to decide whether to do a sequel to this. There will be four EXTRA long chapters to this story (Maybe five if necessary)
And finally - Review if you think I'm worthy! d *_* b

Her hair was pulled back into a messy bun and her jeans were riding up, the white cami and yellow tank were uncomfortable as off center as they were and the soft golden knitted shrug was falling off her shoulders, she shifted her parcels to her hip reaching in her purse for the keys.

Depression is an ugly word she thought as she heard the light scratching from the other side of the door. "I'm coming, I'm coming.." Sarah said exasperated. The beast on the other side was hungry. Fumbling with her keys she finally heard the soft Click and turned the doorknob.

She had moved out of her dad's place shortly after her nineteenth birthday. Now approaching twenty two, and she was really trying to be quite happy how her life faired out - She was a writer, retelling dreams and wishful thoughts to children all over the world. Two of her published novels graced the bookshelf across from the front door of her apartment. Balancing all her bags, purse, she tried to avoid tripping over a very spoilt calico cat. Loki had been her companion since she had moved out, she had wanted to bring Merlin, but a big dog and a small apartment just didn't mix. Her therapist thought she had been overcompensation when she had wanted to name the cat Fae. Appearently obsessions with books is quite common for authors.

"You're hungry aren't you." Sarah cooed to the impatiently pacing cat, "Your always hungry." she rolled her eyes as the small creature let out a rather impatient cry. Placing the bags on the kitchen table she reached into the bottom and pulled out a can of food. Opening it she placed it on the other side of the room. "That should keep you out from under my feet for about five minutes," she laughed, scratching the otherwise occupied head.

The silence was deafening, Sarah puttered about, putting food away, checking her messages, but all the while wishing for noise. Normally she'd put some music on while she was wandering around. But there were times when she craved voice. There were three voice's she could call upon, but shortly after moving out she had deemed herself too old to believe in such fairy tales. Although her belief was unnecessary after having seen it.

They still wrote to her, regularly. Providing they didn't come, she wrote back, pretending it was just another fan writing the author. She tried to tell herself that she was too old for fantasy pen pals, but she still wrote back. They had wanted to know everything about their heroine, most of all about her novels.

Her first book was a tale about a spoilt girl who wished her little brother away, and ensued upon a fantastical journey to retrieve him from the trickster fairy king. The sequel was all her own imagination-the spoilt girl returning to face the cunning King and falling in love with him-a true happy ever after as only celluloid could deliver. Her editor had demanded a happy ever after and loved what she came up with. To her amazement so had the New York Times, leaving her at the top of their list for nearly three months.

She had cried the entire time writing both novels. Almost wishing herself away the whole time. After the books had been written, the ink had dried, she had put her memories in a box and placed them in the top shelf of her closet. All except the red leather covered book that glared from the shelf, the obsession still had a hold on her. And the depression still sat heavy on her chest.

Throwing herself in her chair she flipped through TV channels, not actually watching it, and after that she grabbed some notes on a new novel and attempted to look over them, having no luck at concentrating. Eyeing the red leather cover she gave in and snagged it, opening to her favourite part, she began to read. "I have made my way here to the castle beyond the goblin city.."

In a castle, sitting in on a throne watching a runner through his crystal, his thought's averted to a certain challenger that had beat him. He was deep in thought and didn't notice the goblin clearing her throat. His thought's had been racing along the paths of his more and more common need to place wished away children, he hadn't had as many wishes since … ever, and it had all started with Her.

"What, what do you want?" He barked acknowledging the clearing throat over his left shoulder, his voice acidic and his tone threatening.

"My lord. You sister is here." The she-goblin stammered. Bowing herself out his attention diverted to the tall, angular woman who stood before him.

"Brother, I wished to find you in peace and health, instead I find you angry. What befalls you to make you so wearisome?" his elder sister's light brow knitted in worry. His entire childhood they had tried to keep him protected, but he had felt like he had grown up in a crystal. The very ones that were his signature for his deep rooted magic.

"I am a busy man Amara." His eyes cast upon her, Although they were siblings, they shared few similarities. They both were tall, with the high cheekbone and a strong jaw that had been given to them by their father the King of the Underground, but that was where the resemblance ended. Her dark raven hair and aquamarine eyes were that un-like his mis-matched hazel and green eyes and silvery blond mane. She was dressed in a simple blue gown with a black cloak and the crescent moon pin at the neck, the emblem of the royal family ostentatiously on display, threatening any who crossed her.

"What is it that was so important that you had to come see me for."

"Our inheritance, dear brother." Looking to his crystal once more to see the fat little boy who had wished away his baby sister. He had little time left and was barely at the Doors of Four Heads. Grabbing the baby girl from the cold ground he stood and gestured that Amara should follow him. Cradling the infant he walked towards his study, smiling at the warmth of the child.

Amara, walking a few steps behind him saw the faint glow from his momentary happiness. Jareth had always loved children, one of the main reason's why their parent's had given him the Goblin throne as opposed to the kingdom of the water Fae that she controlled. He had been but wee bairn's of thirty earth years and she a few years older when they took their respective thrones, now, a centuries later he should have a family of his own, but he still was babysitting the children of above, giving them to those loyal to the crown and unable to bear children of their own. She neither care for nor wanted a family for she did not have the capacity to love and therefore did not want to put them through the same pain Jareth had experienced.

He was a good man that deserved to be happy. He was lucky that children assisted in providing him momentary happiness, "Ok Mara, what is it?"

"I don't want to be Queen."

"You must be confused, you already are a queen dear sister."

"No brother. I do not want the title our father is to give to me." The silence that echoed after that was deafening. The only sound heard was the scratching of the babe's clothing as she moved in the steel arms of her protector somehow seemingly understanding that crying would not be acceptable at that particular time.

"You-?" Jareth was lost for words. "Why ever not? And why now?"

"Because I have accustomed myself to the role in which I have been playing for the past century. I enjoy hearing the voice of the people, the people I understand, the people I grew up with. I enjoy being an ambassador to our dear parents. I don't want to have to baby-sit the many thrones and rulers of this world I would have to inherit. But as Father has too diligently reminded me, I will soon inherit the crown. But I don't want it."

She was the eldest and therefore would take the crown, providing that she could produce an heir before their father abdicated. For a millennia their father had ruled, he had been a harsh king but learned fairness and to be genteel. The only reason she would not be Queen is if she did something against her station, like marry beneath her.

"You have found someone? You are to be wed." He guessed and quirked a brow, cradling the child that he still held, the boy was soon to give up and he would have to find somewhere for the child. It was always the hardest part for him, giving the child away.

"Yes, brother I have found the most wonderful someone. He is kind, gentle, and witty. But he is no Prince. Your Sarah though.."

"What of her?" His voice chilling the air. It was well known to his family that he loved the girl, but unapparent to him.

"She is acceptable to rule."

"Why would I want her.." He waved, distracted in thought, until her words sunk in "- wait, what?" He questioned, him wanting a Queen? He had sworn off monogamous relations, preferring various bed mates to warm his sheets whenever needed. Women were not hard to come by, and his toxic words lured them easily.

"The fact that she is a Champion of the Labyrinth would prove her very popular amongst your people. That and her lineage traces back to that of out great-fore-fathers.." Jareth heard none of this. He had played his game, and lost, and she had destroyed him, rejecting him had been the final straw in their dance, "That was obvious in her adoration and acceptance of this strange land of yours. Her imagination still runs rampant." he didn't want her, he told himself. Something had caught him though.

"You've seen her?"

"She is the teller of her tale in the Land of Above. Haven't you wondered why you have been busier of late?" His eyes narrowed How dare she, but deep inside he wondered, What did she say…

"Leave Mara, I will take no Queen."

"Then you shall never be King." She spit, cackling like she had just killed his favourite pet.

"So be it." He said pointedly, he masked his care more expertly. "So be it," he repeated to the empty air. Looking down at the babe, he smirked feeling the familiar nudge of reluctant defeat and in turn, his victory.

She was doing dishes and humming to the song in her head. Loki was perched on top of the fridge, her appetite satiated and content for the time.

The clinking and splashing of the water was soothing, her eyes were glazed over with thoughts of the nearing necessity of her next novel. Not for money sake, with the success of her first two novels she could live comfortably for the rest of her life without working. It was becoming a necessity because she was becoming bored with life. Depressed. Sarah looked out her window and thought to her session she had had that day.

"Sarah, how is your thinking these days?" Dr Judy Grant had asked. The first thing that caught Sarah's eye when she had first walked into the office was the last two Harry Potter novels and the Lord of the Rings trilogy. She believed in fantasy and therefore believed in Sarah where all other's wanted to medicate her.

"Still restrictive. I can't write that kids book to save me. Every time I sit down to write I get side-tracked with another Goblin tale, but my editor says I had to write something equally as good and completely different or else they'll think of me as a one-trick pony." Sarah had sighed.

"There's a problem with having one trick?"

"Yes, the audience gets bored when you only write the same five characters. My other two books we're more young adult, this one is something I want to write for children as a bed time story."

"Do you always tell Toby the same bedtime story?" Sarah had looked at her after that. She did tell Toby the same story, it was a story of princes and princesses and goblins and trolls. Now nine, he didn't get a story - unless she was watching him. Lorraine and her father still went out often but Toby could stay by himself for a couple of hours. But her parent's had decided to travel more often and further away, so Toby would pack a bag filled with his various games and such and stay in the guest room of her apartment. A room only ever slept in by him.

She loved her brother. The labyrinth hadn't changed that, only strengthen it. But it had made her wake up and try and compromise with Lorraine a little more. The woman still didn't care for her like her true mother had, but they formed a friendship of sorts, a camaraderie that came with having a common goal, raising Toby. Sarah often dropped Toby off at school and picked up. Until Lorraine or her father would come pick him up after they had finished work. Which often was late into the evening.

"Yes, I guess I do."

"You may only have one trick Sarah, but it's certainly a doozy." Her eyes had twinkled over the half moon glasses.

Finishing up the few dishes hadn't taken nearly as long as she had hoped. She needed more time to think, she went to her office to write but her feet took her to her vanity where a letter had fallen out of the mirror.

To precious Sawah. She had laughed at that, it was a joke among her friends that they were the only ones that called her that, highly in favour of the noticeable name that Ludo called her. Sitting on the vanity she leaned back against it sighing. She was anticipating asking for help for her next novel from her friends. Pressing her forehead against the cool glass the thought of visiting flittered across her mind. The thought left quickly but the clench in her stomach remained.

Next thing she felt was a tug of her ponytail.

He saw her face from high above. She was embracing that fox guard that he had placed outside the castle among the Knights. He could have swore his heart stopped for many minutes. It was impossible that she was here, he had forbade it after she had utterly defeated him in every ring. She hurt his image as a powerful sorcerer for she had seen through his every trick, she aptly destroyed his image as a charmer for his ability to charm himself into any bed was renowned, and finally she had shattered his unbeaten record for none before her had ever navigated his maze.

She was different, older, and yet the flawless feature that had been forming when she was still a developing adolescence were faintly recognizable beneath the understated beauty. Her dark as pitch hair was tied back and her clothes were less form fitting and yet more flattering. From his vantage point he could see her without being caught.

This feeling, he thought, Rage and lust, that is all..

His heat went from still to racing in seconds. She looked up to the castle and he stepped back into the castle. He glanced back towards the Escher room and thinking of the throne room beyond.

Vanishing into the air he found himself standing in front of his throne, having not thought of where he was going, merely allowing himself to be taken where he most wanted to be.

"And this m'lady is the Throne Room, you'd remember from your previous journey here?.. Do you wish to see it?" Unable to hear a response he listens for the telltale turning of the knob.

He watched them come in from his worn spot he had been pacing, her wide green eyes became orbs, fluttered, then closed as she fell face first to the ground.

"Jareth." She had muttered before loosing consciousness

She had never had a concussion before. Never passed out. Never been winded. But she crossed them all off the list when she felt the warm hand with elegantly long fingers at her forehead. The hard cold ground beneath her was a startling contrast to the warmth of his hands, but she had yet to open her eyes.

The finger's departed and new hands cups the back of her head and rested on her.

"Sarah." she hears the voice breathing her name like a prayer, a lover reaching out in the dark. And so she did what any responsible, grown up person would do. She kept her eyes closed as she felt herself being carried from the voice.

"It's a dream. Just a dream. It's a dream.." he listened to her mutter. The second he had seen her start to fall he had rushed to her side and caught her before she could hit the ground. Worried at his own behaviour, he vehemently denied catching her and softly laying her on the ground.

Refusing to let the sign's of worry leak into his face his stomach clenched when he watched a knight gather her very feminine body (- Just lust, animalistic lust is all I feel-) and carry her off to one of the rooms.

Laying her on the bed the knight stood beside her and he had wondered she had died. Humans were so fragile. This one more so than any, the scowl strewn across his face.

"Jareth?" he heard faintly, he had been slowly walking towards the door, his feet attempting to drag him back to where he refused to be. Setting his face in the calm, collected mask. Refusing to let her see the weakness, pushing all anger to the surface.

"Yes?"

"I - I'm sorry. And thank you."

"Sorry? Thank you?"

"Sorry for passing out in your throne room. Thank you for carrying me here."

"I didn't carry you here, I only came to see if you had survived you insolent girl. And if so, how long you'd be requiring my.. Hospitality. For I'm sure you'd be more comfortable in the oubliette."

She stood, slightly listing back towards the bed. "I am not a girl Your majesty. I don't want your charity, I want to go home."

"Do you know how you arrived?" He asked, his voice icy and bitter.

"I- I don't.. I don't remember." He watch the feature's contort on her sharp features. "I think I fell through a mirror.. and then I was at the gates" Her brow knitted above her wide emerald eyes, the soft slope of her nose was not completely straight, the soft pillow lips were not excessively large but her bottom lip looked slightly larger than then the top one, she bit the lower lip and he suppressed the groan.

It had been a very long time. He mused. His thoughts were dark and he let them wander through the dark for he preferred that as opposed to where they could go if he allowed himself to be weak. There had been other women, women that were attracted to his position like a moth to a light, but much like the moth's, they all got burned in the end. They wanted his heart and yet none had proven worthy like the one in the bed before him. The others had been distraction, some had been fun, some had been politics. But the sheer energy he felt when around this simple human girl was enough to fire off his every nerve. Not all of it good, and yet very little of it bad.

And he hated every bit of it. He hated her for it.

She looked up and he tried to remain blasé but he had failed in being quick enough and she saw. What he didn't know is though he fought to keep his emotions intact, she had already saw.

And had been frightened.

The brief flash hadn't been the look of the snide, cocky king her memories held, the sheer magnum of his restraint on his emotions made her want to hold him. But these thought's frightened her in that this was the Goblin King, the one whom had threatened to turn her brother into a goblin. Maybe while she was above growing up, he did too.

But she wouldn't let herself be swayed by sudden concern. She was a guest so she would act as such, but she wouldn't suddenly run into the same strong arms that held her so tenderly to waste precious minutes while she attempted to save her brother. Brother! Bother!

"Jareth, may I ask something of you?" His thin almond eyes narrowed in question.

"I know you go above frequently and I want to ask if you would check on my family to see if they notice my missing." He eyed her and sneered

"You got yourself here, you can get yourself back." and with that he spun on his heels and left. A crystal bouncing past him. His look remained detached but she could read him better than her books.

The thing with becoming an author is much like anything, you have to be able to do it better than your audience. You must be a better learner before you can teach, you must be a better follower before you can lead, and you must be a better reader before you can write.

After her first trip to the labyrinth she retired her girlish thoughts and dreams because she was no longer a girl. She became a women, and she delved into reading people's emotions. Jareth was no different than any other man she had met, and yet worlds apart in the same breathe.

He had been attempting anger so hard that he had forgotten to hide the pain in his eyes, for sheer ache his eyes was dishearten and she knew the cause hadn't been her. But she was determined to find out.

He found her in the great hall, with the same crystal she had caught that morning. The stubborn set jaw and steely eyes had disappeared and had been replaced by tears and anguish. Thankfully she had not yet noticed him.

"Toby, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry." Her body wracked with pain and suffering. He had wanted this from the day that she had first fainted in his Throne Room, but he was angry that it did not cause him any amount of happiness, rather he felt moved to help her.

"No," he whispered, "She is still the enemy."

She would have recognized the cry from anywhere. It was the cry of a frightened babe, crying for comfort. She walked towards the sounds hearing the rough voice of a goblin trying to please the child.

"May I?" She asked the she-gob, shrugging she was passed the child.

"Hush a by, don't you cry, go to sleep little baby, for when you wake, you'll have cake and all the pretty little horses.." She crooned to the child, swaying back and forth, once the babe heard the soft singing voice of a human female she rested her weary head against her breast.

"You have a knack for children."

"Well I have you to thank for that." she said as she continued to stroke the child's back and sway gently. She looked to his face and saw the confusion.

"This place made me grow up. A lot. After I left Lorraine and I got along a bit better when I took a more - uhm - active role in being an older sister. A better older sister." She cringed at the thought of Toby all alone with his mother, as pleasant as she could be she was a bit of a stick in the mud, moody and often temperamental about the smallest detail. Factors that made her a brilliant lawyer, but a good but absent mother.

"Do you miss him? Your brother that is." Jareth asked, curiosity of her life creeping into his mind.

"More than you can imagine. But I miss this more," She motioned to the babe. "I remember one night when he had colic, and Lorraine tried everything until she just gave up and put him in his crib. She had muttered something about working in the morning and abandon him to his pain. I took him into my room and I think I spent about five hours just holding him, singing, rocking him. That was the week after I had left here."

Jareth brows shot up, trying not to believe her story.

"You once said you were exhausted from living up to my expectations. It took a couple weeks of anger and disbelief but I realised fairly quickly that you had been right all along. I was nothing but a spoilt child. For all the anguish I cause you I apologise." She said quietly.

He was awestruck by the child- no woman, the woman before him. Her flaxen dress brought out the green of her eyes and warmed to the fair tone of her skin. Her raven hair had been braided into a simple plait that ran down to the mid of her back.

"My my my, little Sarah is all grown up."

"And damn proud too." She smiled over the head of the sleeping child. "Do you need to take her anywhere?" She asked softly. He shook his head, a flash of pain burn at his stomach as the picture of her cradling the child sunk into his mind, the sparse dark hair that was scattered across the head of the girl was almost identical to the hair that hung like a waterfall from Sarah's head. He briefly envisioned the scene slightly different the dark hair complimented by mismatched eyes and brows that had had a slight slant.

NO. He stopped himself. She wasn't anything to him. Before she could ask something else he spun on her heel and left as abruptly as he had come in.

The babe had disappeared the day before. She had been disappointed when she had gone to what could only be called the nursery and found it empty. Wandering through the castle she had asked for directions to the Gardens.

They were a thing of untamed beauty, obviously not tended to and therefore growing wild in every which direction.

She silently wished for some gardening tools, much like the ones that her and Lorraine had used when they had tamed their own backyard all those years ago. Spying a lone pair of hand shears and a pair of gardening gloves under a rose bush she was thankful she had worn her jeans that day instead of the beautiful gowns that appeared at the foot of her bed every morning.

Loosing herself in pruning, shaping and forming of one small corner of the garden she unveiled numerous wild roses, a small budding lilac bush, some golden rod, a shivering yarrow bud, purple horse mint and Queen Anne's lace, all plant that often remarked as weeds, but still were beautiful in her eyes, the tulips and lilies were regal in there own corner of the garden.

As the sun rose high in the sky from it's crouching spot on the horizon that it had been hiding when she first came out sweat beaded down her back, but she pushed forward, not even noticing her hunger, or thirst, nor anything but taming the garden all the while being tamed herself with finally extinguishing the remains of any anger she had held towards the goblin king and his wicked maze.

The labyrinth had showed her a great many things in the tender week she had spent. And more importantly, she had felt a gentle push of something unknown whispering in her dreams, telling her that cracking the king would prove greatly beneficial and give great happiness to many, included the great King himself.

"Jareth is impossible." She muttered to the leaves of some daisy that had been hidden under a gathering of crimson clover. "He's rude, cold but.." she sat back on her heels and wiped her brow on the back of the glove, "I feel like there's something there, something trying to get out." Raking up the trimmings that had been tossed behind her she scattered them along the edge of the tall hedges, her idea of -rather than killing the cuttings like her stepmother - she would spread them, a inkling that the Labyrinth would take care of the small plants till they grew tall and strong like the rest of the flowers.

For the next few weeks she would lay out her grubby gardening outfit and every morning she would find it clean, she would check the nursery if there was a child that needed a women's touch, some days she would spend hours playing with the children, and other's the quiet would chase her till she made it to the ever changing garden. After the first week of sneaking out to trim, snip and sculpt she noticed her small collection of tools growing.

The third day resulted in a small spade and a watering can, on the fifth day she found a rake leaning up against the dried up fountain the day after there had been a shovel and wheel barrow in addition. By the end of the second week the small corner that had been slowly wilting away had blossomed into a mirage in the middle of the dry earth of the rest of the Labyrinth.

She had conquered the garden and expanded it to reach to very edge of the looming hedges, she had asked a favour of some of her friends and a few of the guards and had some grass seed and water brought to her own little piece of Underground. They had all stammered and sputtered when they had seen it. Some of them hadn't even been aware that it had existed.

She had brought water to the fountain and after a few hours the cool water was clear and lilac petals dotted the surface. Her own paradise eventually got a path and a little bench.

As happy as she was that it had finally become the garden that she new it could be, she was sad that her daily task had been finished. For while she had been strengthening the garden she had forgotten her growing feelings for the King, she had forgotten that every night she was fraught with nightmares and homesickness. Her gown caressed the rich thick carpet of grass that was soft under her feet, the book that had been smuggled to her forgotten on the bench. All her tools had disappeared when the garden had been completed, but she could always manage to find what she needed when she went to prune back a bush or replant a seed in a different spot, one where it would get ample sun.

Sighing she took one last look at the beautiful dreamland and walked back to the castle, hoping to steal away to the kitchen for a piece of warm bread and a quiet corner to read.

Gardening was one of the few things he remembered of his grandmother. She had puttered about the flowers, almost as if speaking to them. They would tell her their concerns and she would give them some water.

She had loved him, he remembered that. For his grandmother was human, much like the girl that caressed the petals in his own garden. Day by day she would return and dig and snip and trim it back to something that it probably hadn't been since long before he had been born. The Labyrinth had loved the attention the girl had been given it. Especially when she did not burn the trimmings but replanted them elsewhere, the great beast had enjoyed that so much that he had been momentarily breathless with the emotions that his pet couldn't show.

The tender care she had given it had warmed him slightly so that he cast a spell of desire in which whatever she needed would appear. He had allowed her the one token freedom for that she did both him and the Labyrinth a service but had been slightly angered when he noticed half of his royal guard had taken to lollygagging about the place that held so much colour. The entire community within the castle had been enamoured by the garden.

He wished that it didn't have the same effect on him as it did the rest of his staff but almost every night after she had started he had walked out to touch the petals as his wise grandmother had, trying to gain some kind of wisdom.

The only thing he absorb was a prick from a disgruntled rose bush.

A soft giggle came from behind him and he spun on his heel, ready to blast whoever laughed to kingdom come.

It was Sarah holding the toddler that had most recently become in need of a family.

"Jareth, don't you know how to grab a flower?" Her giggle was soft and feminine, so much that he lowered his hand and allowed himself to be entranced by the women once again cradling a child on her hip as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Reaching down she caressed the flower, almost as if it were cuddling into her palm for shelter away from the cool air of the setting sun. Reaching down with one finger she plucked the flower from the ground and held it to the boy who cooed and gurgled with glee. Holding out the flower he suppressed the shiver that threatened to go down his back at her warm, soft touch.

"Next time, try the lilies, their much more understanding of a first timer." She smiled warmly. As she turned to leave his breath caught as if a speech were trapped in his throat. She turned, hitching the child up further on her wide child bearing hips, she was motherly and warm and all the things he desired - Rejected, cast off, turned down - he reminded himself.

"Sarah, why did you turn me down all those years ago?" He asked soft, privately hoping she hadn't heard.

"I knew I needed to do right by Toby. I needed to be the Sister he needed. Who else was going to protect him from the dangers of the world. Lorraine was great but she gave up too easily. I also wasn't ready to say yes to you, but that didn't mean I wanted to say no." With that she departed leaving him wondering about everything he had ever said to her.