Author's Note: Well, I have never had such a great reception to a first chapter before. 17 reviews, wow. You guys are definitely going to spoil me – I'm going to want to see that much feedback all the time now. I just hope that this next chapter will live up to the first one. It's going to be a bit different than anything I've ever done before – it's definitely not going to be all that happy in the beginning, I know that much – but I hope you guys all hang on for the ride. It should be interesting. Yay :)

Disclaimer: These are always mandatory when dabbling in fan fiction. If there is anything at all that is reminiscent of the 1986 fantasy film Labyrinth, then it probably belongs to Jim Henson, et al., including (but not limited to) the characters of Sarah Williams & Jareth, the Goblin King. Any other characters are the property of this author.

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Fourteen

You may think you know about what happened after those 13 hours.
You don't.

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PART TWO
Tonight I'll plunder heaven blind, steal from all the gods!
Tonight I'll take from all mankind, conquer all the odds!
And I feel alive…

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The party did not last long. As much as she enjoyed being surrounded by her newfound friends, Sarah was tired (time re-ordered or not, 13 hours was a long time) and, at the same time, she was aware that it could not be long before the noise attracted the attention of her father or her stepmother. As it was, she could not understand how they had not come upstairs to check on her yet.

In the back of her mind, as she sat beside Ludo, watching Hoggle argue with Didymus over an attempt to put the word canst down on the Scrabble board, Sarah could not help but wonder if this was all a dream – that everything had been a dream. The labyrinth, the goblins, Hoggle, Ludo, Sir Didymus… The Goblin King. But, if it was a dream, Sarah did not want to wake up just yet.

However, dream or not, all good things have to come to an end and, almost as quickly as their little shindig began, it was over. With regretful goodbyes, insistent promises that should she need them, and plenty hairy kisses courtesy of Ludo, the citizens of the labyrinth returned Underground.

Now, as Sarah slid out of her shoes and began to change out of her jeans and blouse and into a nightgown, she could not shake the feeling that something was wrong. It was almost as if she felt the eyes of another on her… as if she was not as alone as she assumed herself to be. Chiding herself for the silly notion – she had seen everyone fade into the glass of her vanity – Sarah did a quick sweep of her bedroom. Just in case.

She had always had an overactive imagination, ever since she was a small child. Growing up with an actress for a mother instilled a flair for dramatics into her, while, at the same time, reminding her that certain things are not always as they seem (though, perhaps, it should be added that her journey through the labyrinth had reawakened and strengthened that understanding). So, while wearing her nightgown over the blue jeans she had yet to change out of, Sarah dropped to her knees and lifted her comforter's edge up off of the floor. Her eyes scanned under her bed quickly but, apart from a few stray dust bunnies, there was nothing there.

The girl wiped her hands on her jeans as she climbed up and stood back up. She glanced around the room and decided that her closet might be a great hiding spot if someone had wanted to spy on her. She slid the door open and, after looking through her wardrobe of school clothes and costumes, found nothing.

The strange feeling did not dissipate and Sarah wondered whether it might be coming from outside of her room. She shuffled, her bare feet dragging against her floor, over to her closed bedroom door and swung it open. Only darkness met her – her father and step-mother had obviously gone to bed for the night – and Sarah sighed. She shut the door with considerably less force than she had opened it with, not wanting to disturb her parents or her baby brother's sleep.

Sarah shrugged and, convinced that she had been imagining the sensation, shimmied out of her jeans. She left her discarded clothing on the floor, telling herself that she would put it in the hamper for Karen to do the laundry tomorrow, and went back over to her vanity. Though she was tired and longed to climb in her bed and go to sleep, the quick run about her room had woken her up a bit. She knew that sleep would elude her for some time and, rather than lie in the darkness, she took a seat at the dresser.

She was not sure what she would see when she looked in the reflective glass – would it show her a way into the Underground, the way that her friends had found their way into her room? – but all she saw was the reflection of a fifteen year old girl. The attractive girl in the mirror had long, straight brown hair and vibrant green eyes that sparkled with life even though there were the beginnings of a set of bags darkening below them.

But there was something different about her reflection now. Though it was Sarah, it was a Sarah that had seen much in a short period of time. There was a bit of wisdom about the girl now. The girl in the mirror sat up straight and stared defiantly back at her twin.

Sometimes the way forward is the way back…

Sarah held the pose for a few seconds longer before she exhaled loudly and let her body relax. She glanced back at the glass and, this time, only saw a teenager in her pajamas. She laughed at the image and stood up from her seat. Her adventure had ended – she was plain, ordinary Sarah Williams again, not a heroine – and, whether or not she believed in what had happened to her, she knew it was over.

As if she was trying to put it all behind her in one symbolic action, Sarah set her head and nodded to herself as she walked over to the light control. With one flick of that switch, the small room was bathed in darkness. Sarah let out a second sigh and climbed into her bed. She closed her eyes and, once she was stationary, sleep was not too far behind her.

She really was tired.

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When Sarah believed that someone was watching her, she had been correct. But the culprit was not within her room – though he rather would have liked to have been there with her; instead, he was still waiting outside for her, perched ever so carefully on a tree branch. He watched as the girl spent time with those creatures that had disobeyed him and helped her during her journey through the labyrinth and he watched as she changed out of her clothing. He watched as she amusingly searched through her room – she can feel my presence, he thought to himself, how promising – and he watched as she sat down at her vanity, staring at herself within the mirror's glass.

His time finally came when she turned off her light. The light reflected in the owl's unblinking eyes vanished as her room was swallowed up by the dark. He ruffled his feathers impatiently as he regained his footing on the branch. It would only be a matter of time until Sarah had fallen asleep and he could retrieve her.

The distance from where he sat to where she slept was considerable enough that Jareth allowed the nocturnal vision of his owl form to take precedence. Turning his head a bit to his right, he stared inside Sarah's window and could see that she was lying on her bed. Her eyes were closed and her chest was falling and rising in a steady rhythm – she had already fallen asleep.

Quickly, and silently, he rose from his perch and soared downward. Halfway through his descent, he changed direction and let the still night air lift him upwards. The dull feathers on his wings guided him quietly across the sky until he had wheeled around and was facing her window. He slowed his approach so that he did not careen into the glass and curled his head inward so that it made contact with the window without injuring him.

Jareth did not need to fight with the latch. Sarah, he found, had left the window partially open, allowing him entry, whether that was her intent or not. To the Goblin King, though, it justified his means and, to his mind, gave him allowance to continue with his plan. The way he understood it, Sarah, by leaving her window open, was inviting him to take her away.

After all, wasn't that what she had cried before she wished her brother away?

Someone save me. Someone take me away from this awful place!

He had always done as she asked; he had been overly generous in an attempt to show her how far his affection extended. She asked that the child be taken, he took him. She cowered before him in anticipation of fear, so he was frightening. He even went so far to reorder time and turn the very world upside down for her… and yet she turned him away in favor of saving her brother.

Now he was going to do what she asked for in the first place. He was going to save her; he was going take her away. And then they would both be satisfied. She would have a savior and he would have a Queen.

Jareth pushed the window inward and soared inside the room. He had seen Sarah's chambers countless times, all through his magickal crystals, but this was the first time that he had set foot inside of the room. He quickly morphed from his owl form into his humanoid shape and, breathing in deeply, he savored the scent of the area. He could smell vanilla and lilies, a scent so unmistakably Sarah, and he tried not to let out an audible moan. It would not do well, after all, if he alerted the girl to his very presence before he had bespelled her.

The very essence of this room threatened to overpower his senses. Her innocence was almost tangible, with the childish reminders scattered all over – the books, the dolls, the toys… His eyes, still strong in the darkness while standing as a man, made out the bookend that so resembled the dwarf at his labyrinth's gate and the stuffed fox that was Didymus. He even saw the print on her wall that looked like his room of stairs.

A small smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. He had seen Sarah's possessions through the crystal's shape countless times but to see them in person excited him. He was sure that the girl would reason that the uncanny similarities between the objects and the truth of the labyrinth were the result of the strength of her imagination but he knew better. The labyrinth itself had called to her, influencing the very things she purchased and received. It was as if the labyrinth had chosen the girl for him and had prepared her the only way it knew.

But, despite the labyrinth's careful preparations – though they worked in the sense that Sarah accepted everything she met in the labyrinth as truth – and Jareth's even more careful observations – how many times had he watched her recite the very lines that had called her attention to him? – he had failed. The girl turned him away and chose to return Aboveground rather than stay with him in the Underground.

Not that her refusal meant anything more to the Goblin King than a dig at his pride. By invoking him and his goblins, Sarah had unwittingly given herself over to the King. Jareth never did anything for nothing and, with every other babe whisked away to the Underground, he assumed that he would either own Toby, Sarah, or both of them by the time that the bell tolled the thirteenth hour.

But, for the first time since he had been monarch of the Goblin Kingdom, someone had bested the labyrinth, recovering the child they had carelessly wished away. But that did not mean that the Goblin King would come away from it all empty-handed. True, he offered Toby in reward for Sarah beating the labyrinth – he could not, by the Laws of the Labyrinth, keep him. However, nowhere in the rules did it say that he could not keep Sarah. And that was exactly what he planned on doing. Either way, he had truly been the victor… as always. After all, what good was his game – his labyrinth – if he was not always the winner?

Jareth composed himself as he removed his traveling cloak and set it over the chair near Sarah's vanity. In order to do what he had in mind, he needed total concentration; he could not afford to be distracted by the very scent of the girl. He could spend all eternity smelling her – tasting her, loving her – once she belonged to him entirely.

He took a deep breath and closed his strangely colored eyes. Fae magick was inherent to one of his kind and never took more energy than was necessary to spin his hand. However, the magick he had in mind was entirely different and took great effort to make sure that it did not go wrong. Goblin magick, while simple enough to make sure that any of the creatures he ruled could do it, was quite difficult for a Fae. It was hard for Jareth to do something simply and he found the magick quite complex.

In total silence and utter blindness, Jareth called to the magick. He felt it welling in his gloved fingertips and, as the heat spread down to his wrists, he opened his eyes. Once he felt the warmth reach his elbows, he knew he had conjured enough power to begin the weaving.

Slowly, and deliberately, he pulled the leather gloves from his hands and placed them on top of his cloak. The whiteness of his seldom viewed flesh was prominent in the darkness, even more so since the magick made the skin glow outwardly. Jareth held one hand out, palm side up, and waved its brother over it. When he pulled the second hand back, there was a spool of a light, sheer gauze-like material setting in the slight bowl his hand made. Gossamer.

He lifted the gossamer up and tossed it into the darkness before holding his hands outward. It floated delicately downwards but paused when it was at height of his outstretched hands. It settled on the air as if there was a support beneath it. The magick was working.

Nimble fingers began an intricate dance, touching nothing but, with every jerk of his forefingers and thumbs, the gossamer pulled. Not before long, the fabric began to weave itself into a pattern – while most of it remained pure white in color, there was a long, dark line that began to develop in the midst of the weaving.

Jareth caught sight of the growing darkness and knew that he had performed the goblin magick sufficiently. He continued to move his fingers, this way and that, until all that was left of the gossamer was one thick braid, entirely black.

It was a perfect nightmare.

As the broad strand continued to float before him, coiling up like a snake as it waited to be released, Jareth reached for his gloves and pulled them back on. All of his work would be wasted if he so much as touched the gossamer with his bare flesh. Instead, with protected fingers, he roped the magick up his left sleeve and approached Sarah's bedside.

He waved his free hand over her sleeping form, taking great care to deepen her slumber. He was not sure how painful it was to insert a nightmare and he did not want her waking up in the middle of the process. Once he was sure that there was no chance that she would regain consciousness as he leaned over her, Jareth kneeled down on the ground.

Sarah was sleeping on her side but her long hair covered her ear. It was a bit of a problem for the Goblin King – he had wanted to restrain his lust for this mortal child by waiting to receive her Underground before he made contact with her again. It had taken almost all of his strength not to run his fingers down her back while they were dancing at Sarah's Masquerade Ball. He was not sure that he could hold himself back, especially when she was so vulnerable, sleeping soundly before him.

However, he knew that, in order to complete his aim of stealing her away, he needed to complete this first. So, his gloved hands shaking slightly, he brushed away her hair – it was soft, he noticed –and revealed her ear to him. As soon as her pale flesh was present, he quickly pulled hand back so as not to make any additional contact with the sleeping girl.

Jareth then brought forward his left hand and set the edge of the gossamer against her ear. Once the woven fabric touched the mortal skin, the magick took over and, within the blink of an eye, the gossamer was gone.

And, with a second wave of his hand, so was Sarah.