Disclaimer: New story. Same disclaimer- own nothing, just writing a story.

Chapter 1

There's such a fooled heart
Beating so fast in search of new dreams

The barn owl beat its wings as it sailed through the night sky traversing the human world until it reached the Underground. Gliding through the window of the castle, the owl transformed into the Goblin King, still dressed in his feather cape, having left the girl only moments ago. A strange mixture of fury and anguish filled his being as he gazed out the window onto the Goblin City, a place where the girl was not hours ago.

"I know you are a recluse," a familial voice said behind him. "A downright shut in. But I suggest you not stare out the window, especially after tonight. Come with me, Jareth. We can have tea or some drinks with mother."

"I don't care for you to be here during a run, and I definitely don't care for you to be here after," Jareth answered without turning around. "And I have tea here."

"You know I like to watch a good run through the maze," she said. "I didn't interfere. That's your only stipulation. But this one was different. It seems as though you shouldn't be alone right now."

"Why would you be concerned about that now?" he asked as he watched a few goblins stumble drunk out of a tavern. "I'm always alone, Cara."

"Don't be pitiful," she said with a huff.

"I'm not," Jareth responded evenly and without emotion. He finally turned around to face his sister. "Simply stating a fact."

Although they were siblings, Cara scarcely resembled Jareth due to the two of them having different mothers. Although she has a relationship with her own, Cara is considerably closer to Jareth's mother. Nearly half the height of her brother, her bright red hair might be the most blatant departure from him. Her facial features were less angular and more round thanks to the influence of her human mother.

Cara released a frustrated sigh. "Humans," she began. "They spend so much time in an infantile state of mind. They're not like you. It seems you expected to much from her. You were a part of Father's council by her age. It's such a shame really. Humans have such a short life, and they spend a large portion of it in a immature state of mind."

"I've heard this from you before," Jareth said, bored with this conversation. "You're not helping."

"She doesn't have the capacity to understand," Cara explained. "And take into consideration that you're not the best at explaining yourself properly."

That last comment earned his beloved older sister a proper glare.

"Well, it's true," she shrugged.

"She had potential," he said as he turned back around to look at the night sky. "That's what I saw in her, and that's all you need to know. Now, please leave."

"All right," Cara said. "But feel free to visit regardless. I would say it's time, yes? Five hundred years is a long time to not see your parents."

"Don't defame me," Jareth said as he created a crystal before allowing it to float out into the sky. "It's only been four hundred and eighty seven years."

A small smile stretched across her face before she disappeared. "Goodbye, Jareth."

He and his Labyrinth had never lost to anyone, but he quickly surmised that one defeat wasn't the reason for his emotional state of mind. He was a petty creature- that he would never dispute. Jareth had never given much thought to how it would feel to lose. However, if he was to be honest with himself- and he usually was- he would deduce that his anger came for the patent refusal of his proposal. Not of marriage. He wasn't as fickle like those of his race. The ability to see and hear people's dreams and wishes tend to make one restrained. But what he told his sister was true: he saw potential in the girl-more than he had with anyone else over the centuries. If he was to be tethered to another, he only saw it with her.

And the anguish? That source was easy for him to pinpoint. No one, not even the victor, leaves the Underground with their memories. She will never remember her time here. He was a fairy tale before tonight, and she will only know him as such from now until forever.

"I need rest," he whispered to himself before leaving the throne room for his chambers.

"So, Sarah, where are we going for our anniversary? First, one that you can legally drink alcohol. May I suggest seafood- that one place by the pier?"

Sarah looked up from her notebook to give him an incredulous stare. "I hate seafood, and you know that."

He shrugged as he looked out at the others sitting at the tables outside the student commons. "If I ask enough times, you might say yes."

"Sounds like your go-to method of wooing me," she teased.

"Exactly!" he exclaimed. "Worked one time already. Second time has to be a charm."

"You're so silly, Patrick," Sarah laughed. She closed her notebook and her textbook before placing them both in her black messenger bag.

Sarah was in her third year at a university in Princeton, New Jersey studying Eastern Philosophy and Languages. Her father nearly fell out when she told him, discouraged by her choice in degrees. But her step-mother was an encouraging as someone could be about a something she didn't understand. She met Patrick, who was one year ahead, her first day. A former lacrosse player who had to quit due to injury, he was one of upperclassmen in the dorms helping the freshmen check-in. Since Sarah took a lot of college classes in high school, her first semester of freshmen year consisted of many upper courses- which is where she got to know Patrick better. After one class assignment, they became friends. By her the beginning of her sophomore year, he asked her out. It wasn't until six months into their relationship that she realized that he was the son of a hedge fund manager who was planning to join his father's business after graduation.

"I can't believe it's our anniversary already. I thought it was next month," she mused.

"I swear, I can't decide if you are the best or worst girlfriend ever," he stated, running a hand through his dirty blond hair that was in need of a barber. "You know my friends would be strangled if they forgot something like this."

"I'm sorry," she said in a sincere tone. "I've been busy."

"You have a scholarship, carrying a full time school load, yet you work two jobs," Patrick said. "There's no reason for you to do all this. Also, working at a tea shop and a café? I say pick a side: tea or coffee. The way God intended."

"I like to keep busy," Sarah said, ignoring his jokes as she usually did. "I thought that's why you liked me, Mr. Business Major."

"Yeah, maybe," he said as he took her hand in his. "So, clam chowder at the Boardwalk?"

"Gross," she said in disgust as she yanked her hand away. "You know I hate that stuff. I want pizza."

"I refuse to take you for pizza for our two year anniversary," he said seriously.

"There's expensive pizza out there," she said. "I think California invented that."

"Sarah," he said.

"Fine," she conceded. "Surprise me then."

"You said that last year," Patrick pointed out. "At least, pick a type of food."

"Umm… didn't a new Moroccan place open up near downtown?" she mused. "How about that?"

"Sounds like a great idea," he said with a toothy smile as he rose from his seat. Patrick lifted Sarah chin to place a kiss on her lips. "Have you decided whether you're joining my family for Christmas?"

"I haven't thought about it that much, no," she admitted. "But the idea of spending Christmas on a beach is slightly off putting. It should be cold with the possibilities of a blizzard."

"You're such a bizarre woman," Patrick said. "You have two more weeks to decide, and I promise I'll speak to my great grandmother about saying how you would be more attractive with blond hair."

Sarah laughed at the memory of accompanying him to the family retreat in Rhode Island for Fourth of July. "She's fine," Sarah said. "Grandmothers are known to speak their minds. And I'll think about it."

"All right," he said. "I'll make the reservations."

A rustling in the trees caught Sarah's attention as Patrick rose from his chair.

"How bizarre," she said, looking into the branches. "Don't they only come out at night? Maybe that species is okay with the daylight. I've seen one like that out before throughout the years."

Patrick had no idea what she was talking about until he followed where she was looking. An owl perched in the tree appearing to be staring at them, which was odd that a wild animal would give much attention to humans, especially with all the squirrels running around.

"Whatever," he groused. "Thing's probably covered in rabies."

"What?" Sarah laughed out of disbelief. "How can that be the first thing you think about when you see a beautiful creature such as that?"

"Talent?" Patrick shrugged. He leaned down to kiss her on the forehead, causing the owl to release a shriek. "Shit! Here that? Rabies, I tell you."

"Go away," she said rolling her eyes before returning her attention to her studies.

"Stay away from that bird," he warned, walking away.

The barn owl flew high in the sky, passing effortlessly through a veil that separates the worlds. Hovering over the Goblin Kingdom, it observed the various subject of the Kingdom going about their day. It eyed a circular window located in the Castle Beyond the Goblin City before soaring through, transforming into the Goblin King.

"I must admit that your sister has done well to keep your secrets," a calm lilting voice said behind him, actually startling him. He spun around to stare at his mother, Queen Elisabeta, dressed in an ornate cyan dressed decorated in pearls and crystals. The statuesque matriarch had her long, dark grey hair pulled back into a low ponytail that served to highlight the angular nature of her tawny face. Her periwinkle eyes were viewed as many to be haunting.

"What are you talking about?" he said as he walked to his throne, barely looking at her in the face.

"It's been how many years since I've visited this dreadful kingdom," Elisabeta complained. "And this how you welcome me?"

Jareth stopped before he reached his intended destination, walking over to her, and placed a gentle kiss on her cheek.

"My apologies, mother," he said.

"Your manners have always been lacking," she said with a small smile. "It would be easy to blame your father for such a character flaw, but it was probably both of our doings."

"Is there a reason for all this mocking of me?" he said as he sat in his throne.

Elisabeta's face transformed from thoughtful to stern. "You must cease this…this… whatever this is."

"What do you talking about?"

"Don't play dumb, Jareth," she sneered. "You may do senseless things, but let's not pretend that you are dim."

"Have you heard any complaints from my subjects?" Jareth countered. "Is this place crawling with vermin? From what I can tell, everything in my kingdom is doing fine. What you are speaking of is a personal matter."

"No vermin? This place is crawling with goblins and chickens," Elisabeta replied. "Why are do go to that world when you are not summoned?"

"Ah, so you came here as a fact-finding exposition," he surmised.

"I came here to visit you since your sister suggests that I do," she said. "And here I am, taking time out of my day to visit you, only to find that you are not here and went Aboveground, of all places. Cara visits you often; I'm certain she knows. She won't tell me a thing, but I know she's aware of your doings."

"And what of it?"

"Enough of this!" she demanded. Elisabeta inhaled deeply, trying to calm herself. Of course, she mused to herself, her sole child was the only one who could cause her this much grief. "Why make these journeys, Jareth? What is there? Who is there?"

"Make a room for me in three days," Jareth said, rapidly changing the conversation. "I'll be there for the evening meal."

Elisabeta sighed, knowing that she would not be able to draw her son out any more. "Fine. I'll tell your father; he'll be pleased- which a rare feat indeed," she gazed at her son who was staring out the window. "You are correct: these matters are personal, and they are your own. However, consider finding another pastime, something else to fixate on."

An iridescent glow encompassed her before she disappeared. Jareth covered his eyes with a gloved hand as he slumped in her throne. He created a crystal, peering into it, willing the orb to reveal what he always sought to see.

Coming into view was Sarah pouring a kettle of hot coffee into a cup, before serving it to a lady standing across from her. As much as Jareth hated the lout who was courting her, he had to agree: she was hard work, diligent in everything she undertook. How he enjoyed watching Sarah blossomed from the impulsive teenager to the young woman who stayed up until the early mornings studying; who eagerly tried to answer questions in class; who drove up to her parents residence to babysit when available.

Jareth dismissed the crystal as he rose from his throne. He stood by what he told his mother: all of this was a personal matter that he didn't need to explain to anyone. For over five years, he continued to keep watch of Sarah, occasionally using crystals to see how she was doing. Every three months or so, he would actually fly up to see her. Seeing Sarah with someone else these past two years have been difficult with every visit, yet he still returned to see her. However, Jareth decided that he could make his family happy by actually visiting them. For reasons he could not possibly comprehend, his parents had lavish meals every night, inviting every noble in the five kingdoms. Although he would never admit such a thing out loud, he has felt more morose these past years, burying his head in paper work and regrets. Maybe being around others is what he really needed, especially since there would be more than a few willingly creatures who could keep his mind occupied.

Being a member of the court does have its privileges, his father always told him. Privileges he hasn't partaken in in a long time.

The ring from the phone caused Sarah nearly jump in her seat as her highlighter streaked across the page.

"Dammit," she muttered to herself. She stood up from her chair, walking over to the side table near her couch where the phone was located. "Hello?"

"SARAH!" a shrill voice yelled through the phone. Sarah pulled the receiver from her ear, fearing she would go deaf. "SARAH! HELLO SARAH!"

"Toby, there's no need to scream," she chided him. Sometimes, she laments that the now five year old knows how to use a phone.

"Sorry," he whispered. "Dad told me to call you, and he wants the phone, but I don't feel like giving it to him."

Sarah tried not to laugh at her brother's antics as she heard her father in the background demanding the phone.

"Hand over the phone. Now, Toby," he ordered.

"Fine," Toby said.

"Hey, sweetheart," her father said with a tired sigh. "How's my scholar doing?"

Sarah chuckled at the silly nickname he gave her after she was given the full scholarship. He would tell anyone and everyone how proud he was.

"I'm good; I'm good," she replied. "Is something wrong?" Sarah called home every Sunday. Since it was Thursday, she knew something was amiss.

"A client came in today and flippantly said that they were always in need someone to work as an Assistant Translator in their New York office," he said.

"You mean the city?" she asked. "I'm not commuting to the city. That's an hour and half one way on a good day."

"Hear me out," he said in earnest. "Don't rush to judgment. This is in line with your degree- much better than serving coffee or selling tea. And they only need you in the office once a week."

"Once a week?" she repeated.

"And that's not the best part," he said, excitement in his voice. "Salary starts at forty five thousand dollars!"

"A year? Working one day a week?" she said not believe what she was hearing. "Wh-why? What? Is this translating for dignitaries at an embassy or something? No- that doesn't make sense."

"They have a lot of old books that they wanted translated by hand, I believe," he said. "I'll send you the information as soon as I figure out how to get into my email."

Sarah snorted. "Did you get locked out of your email again?"

"Sure did! But I'll figure it out by tonight," he said.

"Karen can help with that," she pointed out.

"As soon as she gets home," he grumbled. "I think she's stuck in another meeting. Okay, I gotta let you go. Toby thinks the walls are canvases for his crayons. "

"All right, Dad," Sarah said. "I'll let you go." The phone made a clicking sound, indicating that her father went to go wrestle her brother away from redecorating the house.

As Sarah returning to her tiny dining table to read, her mind swirled with the outlandish possibility that her father just presented to her. She knew better than to let her mind wander too much, at least until she received more information on it.

Her phone rang again. Letting out a grumble, she picked it up to check the caller ID.

Patrick

"You know I'm busy," Sarah said as soon as she answered the phone.

"Hello to you, too," he said. "And besides, you're always busy."

"All right," she capitulated. "Good evening to you. Also, what's so important that you couldn't wait until tomorrow?"

"Mother is not a fan of waiting, and she wants you to RSVP," Patrick said. "Right now."

"RSVP? For the Christmas party?" Sarah asked. "That's months away."

"Just say yes, Sarah," he groaned. "You know you were going to say yes anyway."

"That's not true," she countered.

"Sarah-"

"Fine," she sighed. "I'll go."

"Great," Patrick said. "Grandmother will be thrilled to see you."

"Since she's twisting my arm, she better," Sarah said.

Vernon van Voorst stalked the hallways as fast as he could with the sound of his cane announcing his impending arrival. Nearly seventy years old, he was a surprisingly spry man despite his ailing health and poor posture. Never seen in anything less than a three piece suit and his handcrafted cane, the old man was the image of societal affluence.

"Geoffrey!" Vernon yelled as he burst through the door. "You told me that you would have an update for me two days ago."

"Uh, yes, sir," the middle aged man said as he pushed his glassed further up his nose. "We are making progress. We just need to add-"

"Four years!" Vernon yelled. "You've had four years! How much more time do you need?"

"To be fair, sir," Geoffrey stated, barely holding in his contempt. "You found this book four years ago in a language not native to any humans. Cracking the code has taken time."

"Well," Vernon snapped as tapped the head of his cane against the wall. "How much more time do you need?"

"As I was trying to say earlier," Geoffrey said as he rose to his feet, holding a manila folder in his hand. "I have translator candidates coming in on a rolling basis. Here." He handed the folder to Vernon. "You can see who we're bringing in."

The old man waved away the papers. "Keep those away from me. I've done too much in my life to deal with the minute of HR." He turned too walked out of the office. "Just-Just get it done." He pointed the bottom of his cane at Geoffrey. "I'm running out of time."

"I told you that he would fail to attend," Janus hissed after the servant placed a plate of food in front of him.

"He said he would come," Elisabeta whispered as she stared at the empty chair in front of her. "He has his faults, but he always keeps his word."

"Then, he's late," Janus retorted. The king grumbled as he stroked his blond beard, his hefty and imposing presence not moderated by sitting. He scowled as his eyes strayed down the table to the other guests who were ready for the meal to commence.

"Well, he never said that he would be on time," she said as she gave a small yet tight smile to their dinner guest.

Clearing his throat, the dining hall went silent as Janus raised his wine glass, signaling the beginning of the meal. "A toast-"

Suddenly, the double doors opened to reveal his prodigal and tardy son. The atmosphere of the hall grew tense as Jareth walked to the vacant chair without a care for the disruption he caused and paying no mind to the gapping mouths of the guest who were staring at him.

"A toast," Janus continued. "To our children, may they always know the importance of time." The room erupted into laughter as the meal commenced, and Jareth sat down.

Cara, who was seated next to him, gave him a glare. "You simply had to make an entrance," she muttered.

However, Janus could barely contain his look of displeasure. "Of all the blatant, disrespectful-"

Elisabeta grabbed his hand to give him a warning squeeze. "I'm simply happy you came, my love."

Cara gave Jareth a slight nudge in his ribs. "More than half the table is staring at you. I believe most of them are single… And the others seem to not care for their mates at this point."

Jareth looked down the table to see what his sister was referring to. Several female and a few males were passing glances his way. One actually had the temerity to give him flirtatious wave. He suddenly lamented coming to this place. There were many things he hate- shallow flattery was one of them

"Do you want me to regret coming here?" he snarled as he stabbed into his food with his fork.

"I'm completely astonished that I have to say this after all these years," Elisabeta said. "Yet here I am: No taunting and no fighting."

Jareth turned to his sister and stuck his tongue out at her.

"Fool," Cara said with a laugh.

Closing his eyes and allowing the night air to roll over him, Jareth leaned against the palace wall, leaving the dining hall as soon as he could.

"I guess it was too much to ask that you stay to mingle," a familiar voice said. He opened one eye to see Cara walking toward him.

"I didn't leave to go back to my home, did I," he retorted, closing his eyes once more.

"Such high expectations that you've set for yourself," she said. A tugging feeling around his neck caused his eyes to snap open. "Don't be alarmed. I'm not going to strangle you." She have him one more tug before taking a step back. "Your cravat was slightly askew."

"Thank you," he said before clearing his throat.

"On second thought, maybe you should leave," Cara said. "I'm sure father will want to ring your throat when he sees you- considering his love of propriety… and your love of not doing that at all."

"You lambast me for not ever coming here," he said, changing the subject. "Yet I see not sight of the Twins."

"Don't worry about them," she said, crossing her arms over her chest. "They visit more than you do. Last week, I believe."

Jareth scoffed. "Does not one else have things better to do than visit a childhood home?"

Cara approached him, placed her hands gently around his neck, and then pushed up to kiss him on the cheek. Her brother tilted his head to the side and gave her a curious look. One of her hands lingered on his face as her thumb caressed his cheek. She looked him in the eyes and gave him a small nod.

"I wish you happiness, brother."

"Ah, yet wishes aren't your purview, now is it?"

Sarah jogged the best she could in her small heels as she weaved through the crowds of people clogging the streets of the city of New York. She spared a glance at her watch to see that she only had three minutes to get to a place that was five minutes away.

"Excuse me!" she snapped as she brushed by a group of tourists blocking the middle of the walkway. Soon, she walked into the double doors of her destination four minutes later- and one minute late. Unfortunately for Sarah, the reception had to remind her of that fact.

"You're late," she said without looking up from her computer.

The entire scenario would have caught Sarah off guard if she didn't remember that she had submitted a profile picture to them, and her fingerprints, and a drug test.

This place is intense, she thought. "So, would you like me to leave," Sarah asked after being ignored by the same receptionist for nearly a minute.

The lady placed a leather portfolio on the desk. "Take the stairs, turn left, walk to the end, and go to office two thirty eight," she stated as she continued to type, disregarding Sarah's president.

"All right," Sarah mumbled as she grabbed the offered portfolio and made her way upstairs. When she arrived at the numbered office door, she gave a gentle knock on the door.

"Enter," a muffled voice ordered. She did as instructed, closing the door behind her. "You're late," the thick-rimmed glasses complained.

"I apologize for that," Sarah said, still standing by the door.

"Well, don't just stand there," he said, pointing to a chair across from his desk. "Take a seat." He released a sigh as he shuffled through some manila folders before grabbing what he was looking for. "You're Sarah- Sarah Williams."

"Yes, sir," she answered after taking her seat.

"Robert can't shut up about you," he said. "It's finally nice to meet you. Name's Geoffrey Lyon. Excuse the frazzled state of my office. You'll be situated on the fifth floor. I'll be sure that you'll be sharing an office with one other person. I could be wrong about that."

"Um, what? This isn't an interview?" Sarah asked.

Geoffrey let out a bark of a laugh. "We have no time for that. Did you believe we asked for your fingerprints for fun? You're keys and badge should be in that portfolio you have in your hands." Sarah opened the folder to see everything he stated was laid out before here. "And your employment contract is in there also. I need you to sign that and give it to me before you can proceed any further."

"Oh, sure." She took out the packet of papers and tried to read as quickly as possible. The contract was long and extensive, mostly due to the non-disclosure agreement attached to it. "You guys are really serious about your privacy."

"Will that be a problem?" Geoffrey asked in a serious tone. Sarah looked up from her contract to see him glaring at her.

She shook her head slowly. "No. It's to be expected, I guess." After signing all the necessary pages, she handed the document to him.

"Fantastic," Geoffrey said before looking at his watch. "I know it's Saturday, early afternoon and you weren't expecting this, however, can you start today?"

"Sure," Sarah said slowly, not really understanding the urgency.

"I suggest you get you some lunch and then go report to your office," he stated.

"Great," she said, shrugging her shoulders before standing as he followed suit. He reached out a hand to her, which Sarah took.

Geoffrey gave her a smile as he gave her a firm hand shake. "Welcome to the Voorst Historical Society family."

"Hey!"

The yell caught Sarah off-guard that she nearly jumped. "Why do you do that when you know I hate it?"

"It's just a joke," Patrick said as he wrapped an arm around her torso. "And the most efficient way to get your attention. Here, I got you a drink- an old fashioned." She looked over to see a whiskey glass in his hand.

"Seriously? It's like ten in the morning," she said, turning in his arm.

"Eh," he shrugged. "We're on vacation, and we're celebrating, Ms. College Grad."

"Oh, please." Sarah grabbed the drink from his hand and took a sip. "It's just college. People graduate all the time."

"This is true," Patrick concurred as he rubbed her shoulders. "But it's not every day that someone is asked to be the next Mrs. Monroe."

The whiskey tumbler paused at her lips. "What?" She looked over to where Patrick was standing and noticed that he had taken a knee in front of her. "Are you serious?"

"Hey now," he said as he reached into his back pocket. "Let me do my thing." Patrick opened the small black box to reveal a glistening ring. "Sarah Victoria Williams, will you marry me?"

Sarah simply stared back at him as the glass in her hand began to shake. Patrick stayed kneeling, frozen by her lack of reaction.

"Um, I need an answer," he said cautiously. "C'mon, baby, don't just leave me down here. The wooden floors are rough."

"Yes," she quietly answered while nodding her head. "Yes. Yes! I'll marry you."

Smiling, Patrick rose to his feet as he wrapped a hand around the back of her neck to pull her into a kiss. When he finally released her, he took her left hand to place the ring on her finger before he kissed the back of her hand.

"I knew it would fit."

Crystal orbs were thrown against the walls and floor as an irate king took out his sorrow and frustration on anything that dared get in his way.

Goblin and chickens alike ran from the throne room, terror etched on their face as they tried to find safety. "Run!" the goblin yelled in unison.

When the throne room cleared out and every inch of the floor was covered with shards of crystal, the Goblin King's gloved hands gripping the side of his throne, breathing heavily in an attempt to calm his nerves.

"Life's not fair, is it?"

A/N: Welcome to my new story.

So, I feel the need to preface this story by saying this:

I came up with the premise of this story a year and half ago, tinkering with it to see how far I could take story theory. Jump to several months later when I decided to read the first trade paperback of the Sandman graphic novel. I don't want to say much. Only if you have read it and find some similarities, that was a complete coincidence. It was a shock to me as well. Anyway... Onward with the story!