This is a disclaimer. The reason this is a disclaimer, is because the work, known as the Labyrinth, does not belong to me. This is fanfiction, people. Meaning that I do not own Jareth, Sarah, the Underground, or any of those delightful little wonders we love about this movie. Doesn't that bite. Labyrinth is a work of Jim Henson, may he rest in peace. (Though if he knew about those mangas, from what I've heard, he wouldn't be.) It is meant as a tribute to the original work, not a ripoff. I am making no money.

That being said, what's left of this fic, is mine.

----------------

My cold is almost gone!

Okay, admittedly, I wasn't exactly the one to figure out the riddle in this chap... I don't know exactly who did, but I saw it figured out by one of the Yu-gi-oh characters, on duel island, and of course, made the connection to Labyrinth. (Forgive me for not knowing the Yu-gi-oh fandom, but I don't! No idea which character, which episode, or even if it was called Duel Island!) So, this is sort of like a disclaimer. Heh, in case you actually thought I could figure out something like that on my own. But I'm willing to bet that Sarah could, after a few years to mull it over...

Ehm... That being said, I'm a bit worried that this chapter might be too busy... If that makes sense. But we do get our first glimpse into Jareth's mind! I thought about writing it strictly from Sarah's point of view... But that would be kind of like telling only half the story, right?

Her eyes felt gummy when she opened them, some untold hours later, telling her right from the beginning that if she was at all smart, she'd roll over, and go back to sleep… Either that, or that she shouldn't sleep in a patch of dust in the middle of a windy labyrinth at all.

But this wasn't her first thought, on waking from a restless sleep, devoid of anything but dreams of more frustrating dead ends and boggy rivers… No, her first thought was a little slower forming, as she found herself on her back in the dirt, staring up, a little baffled, at an unending burnt gray sky, tinged with orange. It waited until she gradually remembered where she was. While she mulled over the idea that, yes, this was in fact, real. Odd.

Only then, after a rather sharp twist of her stomach, did her first real thought of the day come into focus. Mornings of gold, my ass.

With that enlightening observation made, she sat up, a bit slowly, more accustomed to a soft mattress than the hard ground, and tested out her limbs, one by one. She felt a little like she'd been dropped several feet, hit the ground, and then fallen asleep. But it was nothing that couldn't be worked out… Even if her currently twisting stomach was demanding that she hurry. She'd convinced herself the night before, after perusing her small supply of edibles, that she could wait until morning to eat. Now, she was currently calling her former self, from the night before, an idiot.

Remembering her companion, she didn't just grab the bag all willy-nilly, but instead leaned over it, and with some care, pulled the flap open as gingerly as possible… And there she was. Little blue haired devil. Fast asleep, on a mattress made of the sandwich that Sarah herself currently wanted to eat.

Gently, the dark haired girl curled her fingers under the faery's sleeping body, and was surprised, briefly, at how very light the creature was in her hand… No more than a breath, really. And unexpectedly warm, for such a small thing. Like she was radiating heat as she slept. With her free hand, Sarah made a bed of her shirt, and tucked the faery neatly into place, expecting at any moment for the tiny stowaway to awaken in a tantrum, much to the grief of many nipped fingers… But she didn't.

It was only one sandwich, which, in retrospect, wasn't very good planning at all. She'd assumed from her last trip through the maze that her little quest would be over in less than a day… Now she was remembering, with a great deal less certainty than she'd faced her journey only the night before, what the goblin king had warned her. That she might never get out.

But since thinking like that didn't do anyone any good, she stubbornly pushed the thought from her mind, and took a rather fierce bite of the yielding bread… Finding, much to her contrition, that those little faery footprints made the bread tasted more than a little like soot. But since she was eating for necessity, rather than enjoyment… In three bites the sandwich was gone, and Sarah was already regretting her haste. As the too large lumps settled into her throat, she remembered, irritably, that she no longer had anything to drink.

Frustrated, she grabbed for her thermos anyway, hoping to salvage a soothing drop or two… Only to pause, in bafflement, at the solidness of what should have been a light plastic container.

Unscrewing the top, slowly, she didn't know for certain what she expected to find inside… But somehow wasn't at all surprised to find it filled to the brim with clear, sparkling liquid, cold to the touch, just waiting for her to imbibe. What puzzlement there was however, was quickly replaced by irritation. Clearly Jareth didn't learn. She wasn't going to fall for his tricks, and… "And I don't need your help." She muttered under her breath, tipping the thick cylinder without much pause, and watching, with a sort of gut-twisting lurch, as the sweet-looking water ran uselessly into the dirt. And then it was gone, and of course, there was no going back…

Or at least, there shouldn't have been. As she tipped the empty container upright again though, a soft gurgling sound made itself known from within, and Sarah stared, in fascination, as the thermos seemed to fill itself from the bottom again, as if seeping from a wellspring beneath it.

Frustrated, intrigued, and wary, Sarah simply screwed the lid back on firmly, and slid the thermos back into the pack… Ignoring the further annoyance of her stomach, and resuming her earlier efforts to work out a stiff night's sleep.

She didn't know what she was waiting for, as much as anything she supposed that it could simply be for the faery to wake up, but once she was suitably de-ached, she propped her back against the heavy stone wall, gazed a bit tiredly to the skies, and debated her next logical course of action.

There was no way to plot the labyrinth… Not with markers or maps or strings… Not when it changed from one moment to the next to suit its own purposes, anyway. Of course, if it wanted to, the faery could help there… Flying up past the stone walls, giving an idea which path would actually offer progress further into the depths of the goblin king's kingdom. But trying to get anything but indifferent companionship from the creature seemed… somewhat less than likely.

Her eyes, still scanning the sky, for some trace of difference on the horizon, met, frustratingly, with nothing. "No bells," She intoned glumly, running her fingers carelessly through her dark brown mop, "No towers, no trees, no mountains… No stars, no sun, no moon! No landmarks above, everything always changing below… This is impossible." Her head dropped, forward, into her hand. "I need help." But from who? It had seemed like before, every time she was struggling, someone popped out of nowhere to offer advice… But somehow, this time around, the natives weren't inclined to be so helpful.

In the end, she was forced to admit that there was no answer… None she could see, anyways. Until she found someone willing to offer more than the most immediate directions, she was forced to wander about aimlessly, and hope for the best. Even if the Labyrinth was already doing its best to work its way into her sanity. After all, she couldn't keep ending up at the same damn dead end… right?

She rubbed her eyes, glanced at her sleeping companion, and wondered. The Labyrinth was shaped to the Goblin king's whims, right? What did that mean? If it was true, specifically, she never would have found the castle the first time. So presumably, Jareth wasn't off somewhere, purposely leading her in circles… Even if she wouldn't have put it past him. And that line of thought, almost unwilling, led to her next question…

What was the goblin king doing?

----------------

The mulling, fussing, and endless squabbling was a long accustomed thing, as the droves of goblins, short and squat and as twisted to the wind in appearance as any number of trees, swarmed around him, too lost in their own internal conflicts between each other, to bear him so much as a second glance… So long as he wasn't physically lifting them and throwing them out of his way, of course.

Certainly, they did their best to avoid him, as he strode, purposefully, frustrated, from one end of the long hall to the other… If only because, when they did not, his heavy boots would often find some unprotected part to strike, step on, and kick, violently, out of the way. It rarely actually hurt them of course, goblins being made of fairly tough stuff… But when Jareth was in a mood like this, it was rarely wise to get in his way. One could never tell when he might truly snap.

Large, sparsely feathered birds watched from the rafters. Dark in color, with white heads, and red eyes, like cranberries, they followed his movements. Waiting, curiously. Eagerly, even. As he paced, hands clasped in fine white gloves clenching, unclenching. Displaying none of the cool, collected antagonist he'd offered the girl, out there in his maze. No, no, he was angry… Angry at having her so close. Her, who'd bested him, defied him and denied him, abandoned him, and never once looked back…

Didn't she understand? He would have given her the world… Forget the baby. The child, the one he was duty bound to make one of them. Forget destiny, and magic's greater than even he understood, demanding retribution… He would have given her anything.

Who knew, that four years, in an immortal lifetime, could be so endless? He didn't know if he loved her or hated her, wanted to keep her or destroy her… But he would not be bested again. Four years. Four years of turning every decision, every mistake, over and over in his mind. Calculating. Recalculating. Rebuilding the Underground stone by stone. Preparing. Waiting. Fearing, she would simply forget, and not even care.

Solid, echoing footsteps. His head bowed, lips curled in a sneer, staring at nothing at all as he sought one end of the long hallway, then the other. Paintings, tapestries, watching him. The harpy-like things in the rafters, waiting. A crystal in his hand, turning, twisting, flying against his fingertips, floating and spinning as he gazed at the image within.

He'd made a peace offering. The gods only knew she didn't deserve it. Given her a gift, to make her journey a little easier. Just a little. And watched, with fury and fascination, as she'd poured it out. Not uttering a sound.

Mortals shouldn't be so frustrating… They were only human, after all. They shouldn't be able to defy fates older than the very Underground itself, shouldn't taunt and linger, hauntingly, in the memory of an immortal king. It was so routine… That was the frustration of it. One more young twit. One more babe. One more challenge, that should have fallen to him. Why, under the burning embers of the sky, was she different?

That why, that single, echoing, inescapable question, refusing to let him rest. Why? Why her? What made her so special?

Frustration, giving way to fascination. Giving way to obsession. Watching, again and again, as more ran his Labyrinth. As every one of them failed. As humanity's lost children became part of his world. Wondering why that time had been different. Unable to accept his defeat… Refusing to accept her dismissal. And waiting…

The wind blew her long hair recklessly about her face. Deep brown strands, licking relentlessly at her dusted skin. Like dark flames, haloing her, some ungodly angel. Her jaw set stubbornly, her lips pressed together in a defiant grimace. Never one to back down. Never one to bow. "Onwards and upwards, Sarah." The Goblin King murmured, fingers tightening on the orb, catching it, making it freeze and still. Caught on her proud, angry brown gaze.

She blamed him. That was the true irony of it. After the lengths he'd gone to, to make her remember, to bring her back down here, to keep her from forgetting, she blamed him.

Well, what did he expect? "We are not friends, Sarah." Very, very softly this time, as the crystal resumed its spinning, and the image in the crystal began moving once more. "I cannot imagine we ever will be… But this time I intend to see to making it very difficult for you to leave, once you find what you're looking for here." A tilt of his head, and a smirk. Watching her move with such haste, and no destination. Those two things, very nearly the definition of who she was. But far more softly, almost regretfully, "Have you forgotten everything? Do you even know what you're doing here anymore?"

A flip, a twist, and the crystal was lost to sight. His expression was grim, tight-lipped, but oddly determined. Let her find her dreams. Flitting, fleeting things. Let her find her, friends. For what good it would do her. Let her trace her way through his Labyrinth a dozen times, let her track him down to his castle once more… There was no child for her to claim this time. He had nothing left to lose.

She, meanwhile, had to decide for herself what she was willing to lose. Because before this was over, one way or another, she would have lost…

But just what she was losing, would be up to her…

----------------

Whatever strength the Goblin King saw in his adversary, safe from the other side of his 'looking glass,' Sarah was just plain frustrated. Once more, nothing was as she'd left it. None of the same corridors, none of the same twists or turns… But she'd established a pattern. Sort of. She tried to remember how many turns right she'd made, and make, roughly, the same number of turns left. When she could, she went straight. Or what she thought of as straight. The laws of common sense had to have some hold over direction, even here in the Underground. That's what she told herself.

The faery had, some time since, woken, and was now flitting from place to place, looking more than anything, bored. Sarah suspected that didn't bode well for her, but for the moment she ignored it. A low, incessant sound, like falling water, that seemed to come from everywhere, and nowhere, was a far greater concern. She didn't know when it would actually show itself, or what obstacles it might offer… And if she was wary of the Goblin King's 'present,' she was still very, very thirsty.

Spinning and dipping to amuse itself, the faery drew Sarah's gaze, almost against her will. It was impossible not to stare at a faery, twisting and flitting there, not two feet from her. A faery. In light of all that had happened, it still took seeing her darting about there, close enough to touch, to convince Sarah that she hadn't completely lost her mind, or that this was all a dream. It couldn't be, after all. She was looking right at the little thing.

Gradually the sound of running water became more pervasive, and Sarah turned her attention away from the tiny thing, suddenly wary of drop offs, or sink-holes, or… Who only knew what an irritated goblin king could dream up. But her searching gaze met nothing in the form of pitfalls… Or of explanations. Until, distractedly, she reached one hand out, running it along the near stone wall…

And yanked her touch back, cold and dripping. Quickly paying closer attention, she swore she saw the faintest of movement along the uneven stone… Like something just in front of her was rippling, flowing even. She quickly looked down, to see if there was any water pooled at the foot of the wall… But no. Dry as a bone. She even knelt down to feel the soil… Dust. Nothing but dust.

Slowly, an exploratory hand moved to brush the rocks before her, just lightly. Dry, again. Again, slowly, her hand moved upwards… And finally, her fingers found damp areas between the stone. Perplexed, she followed them, with eye and touch, until the moisture became more and more prominent… And finally, little trickles, rivulets of water, visible between the cracks. Flowing… up.

The realization took longer than it should have, her mind working against everything logic told her was possible, but then she was looking up, following the ever expanding flow with her eyes, as it pooled, not at the base of the stone wall, but near its height, far above her head… And didn't stop there.

One by one, perfect, flawless clear orbs, lifting from the wall, and continuing up, as individual drops. As if it slow motion, wobbling, becoming firm, and going up, up into the sky, until the miniscule droplets were lost to sight, one by one. Some no larger than a pinhead. Dancing against the angry sky, as far above, the dark swirling clouds sucked up the moisture greedily, and promised, in brief glints and subtle glows, to give it all back soon.

"A storm…" Caught in the beauty of the impossible thing before her, this was what made its way through her confused mind, and settled as the most important part of what she was seeing. It was going to rain soon, and she had no shelter. Not even a blanket.

Still, her gaze lingered for a moment, on the tiny, crystalline drops, before she started moving forward again, more quickly, eager to find… something. Some way out of whatever was coming. Who only knew what rainstorms in the Labyrinth were like, after all? And still some part of her mind lingered on the impossible, beautiful sight…

Before she broke into a run. She was panicking, there was no other word for it. She'd bitten off more than she could chew, and for all her confidence, for all that beating the darn goblin king all those years ago had accomplished, she was suddenly very aware that she was in way over her head this time. This wasn't her world, it didn't obey any rules she understood, and there was no one to help her this time. And for every beautiful thing like rain falling up to a violent, beautiful heaven… Was the threat of what soon would be coming back down.

But panic, even when it did manage to overwhelm her, only lasted a few minutes before a sudden, sharp sort of common sense kicked in. No, this was foolish. She was going to end up going in circles, and be right back where she'd started, again. That was scarier than any damn rainstorm.

Stopping sharp in her tracks, she took a deep, measured breath, and looked around… Andes paused, and looked around again, because for the first time that she could ever remember when being in the Labyrinth, she would swear her surroundings looked familiar. Old familiar. Like she'd been here, a long time before… Even if she couldn't put her finger quite on why.

She stopped, when it seemed too certain. Too convenient. To put it bluntly, too good to be true. Stock still, listening… And certain that somewhere, not far away, she could hear a low, bored humming. And for once, it wasn't coming from the faery. She advanced again, more cautiously, unwilling to believe that blind luck might have done more for her than all her effort and planning… And unwilling, even more, to believe that Jareth had left behind anything that she'd be able to use to find her way.

But she didn't slink around the corner… All right, she sort of 'peeked,' but moved far more quickly, almost in a sort of sudden fury, when she saw what was waiting on the other side. "You!" It was a curse, a sound of relief, an accusation, all at once… And then she remembered, and too late, turned back the way she'd come, only to find the opening she'd just used, gone. A quick glance told her that there were no other openings, either… Save for two tall doors, tall against the stone, with their odd little guardians to watch her.

Two above, two below, with no mind for laws of gravity, or blood rushing to their heads, holding a pair of shields that shouldn't, logically, actually have anything holding them up. The two below looked at each other, and snickered. The two above ducked behind their shields. Here it was again. Their little game, exactly as she'd left it.

"Fancy seeing you again." The one on the top left offered at last, poking his head out from behind his shield, watching her with sharp, curious eyes.

"I take it you must have chosen the right way, last time." The one on the right noted, baring all his sharp little teeth in an approximation of a smile.

"Of course, the Labyrinth's changed since then." Offered the one on the left, almost helpfully, casting a sly look at his, for lack of a better word, brother. "Can't just assume the old way out, is still the new way out!"

"Can't assume that at all." Agreed the other, eyes glinting like a puppy with a new toy. "You'll have to find the right way all over again. Of course, one thing hasn't changed… One of us always tells the truth…"

"And one of us," Finished the other, still smiling, "Always lies." A pause. "Oh, and you can only ask one question."

"Yes," Agreed the other, nodding, "That's the new bit. Only one question, and only from one of us." This seemed of particular importance. "So take your time, think it through…"

The smile Sarah offered the two was far less an approximation of a grin, and far more like a warning that either, or both, should look behind them. Slowly their looks of smug assurance faded, until they were just very barely certain of themselves. Waiting. Exchanges glances, after a moment, as if to question the other on what had gone wrong with their game.

"Think it through?" Sarah prompted of the two, at last, still 'smiling.' "I've had four years to think it through, thank you. I don't need to think about it now. You." She pointed to the one on the right, her finger within an inch of his nose, which he wrinkled, slowly, in unease. "You say that one of you tells the truth. And you," She turned to the other, any trace of a pleasant expression utterly vanishing, "You say that one of you only lies. But that's impossible."

For a moment, the two just considered her, perplexed. "It is?" The one on the left asked finally, clearly not sure how she could, well, be so sure. The one on the right quickly prompted in his two bits, just as puzzledly, asking, "How?"

Her anger faded, slowly. She'd waited all this time to call them on it, and well, she might as well enjoy it, but it didn't really solve any of the problems she was currently facing. "If one of you says they tell the truth," She explained, a bit wearily, "And one of you says you only lie, then either both of you are telling the truth, which you can't be, because one of you says you always lie, or you're both lying, which also can't be true, also because one of you says you always lie, and that would be the truth, not a lie, which would mean the other was lying, when they said that one of you always tells the truth."

For a moment, the two just stared at her, trying to understand her convoluted logic, before, slowly, the one on the left prompted, "So… What does that mean?"

"It means," Sarah explained, growing slightly more frustrated again, "That either one of you is liable to lie or tell the truth as you see fit, and even if one of you always tells the truth, or the other one of you just always lies, or either one of you sometimes tell the truth or sometimes lie… I can't trust any answer that I get out of either one of you!"

As the two looked at each other, again, and all four began cackling at their little trick, she leaned back against the wall, and stared at the only two ways out, neither of which made any sense to risk. "And the fact of the matter is, that it doesn't really matter, because both of those doors probably lead to traps." She added, under her breath. A sort of final, because I say so. Not that it won her anything.

A sudden, slow clapping drew her attention, one hand against the other, methodical, almost mocking. "My word, Sarah." The goblin king noted, clearly enjoying the little show she'd just offered. "It did take you some time, didn't it?"

"Jareth." She wasn't irritated this time, so much as exasperated. "What do you want this time?"

Smoothly, the goblin king straightened up from his place against the far side of her little prison… To reveal a small round wooden door that hadn't been there a moment before. Her eyes fixed on it, hopefully, then quickly looked away. As if she didn't want him to see how desperately she needed that way out, that he'd probably provided in the first place. He was still watching her, a trace less amused now, as she met his gaze again. "I take it you didn't like my gift." He noted, cutting the last word sharply.

"I'm really supposed to trust you?" Sarah pointed out, just a little wearily. "Goblin King…"

"Jareth." He interrupted smoothly, without missing a beat.

She paused, and looked at him. He smiled, slouched over again, tugging at one sleeve. The utter picture of harmlessness. Except of course, for some quality to his eyes like a hunting beast. "Jareth." She agreed a moment later, like this was some great concession. "Why exactly should I believe that anything's changed from the last time I was here?"

"Everything's changed, Sarah." He dismissed, rather condescendingly, with a little wave of his hand. "Or rather, it's in finding what's remained the same, that you'll realized you've changed. But me?" He smiled, a sharp, fascinating smile. "I rarely change for anyone. So the question is, not whether you can trust me now, but why on earth you had some idea that you couldn't trust me before?"

Sarah closed her eyes for a long, measured breath, noting simply to herself, "More riddles. Wonderful. I do so love riddles."

"Then here's one for you, Sarah," She started at the close proximity of his voice, jumping backwards a little, and finding there was nowhere to jump backwards to. He was there, his face inches from her, his eyes boring, like some unwavering bird of prey's, into her own. His next words were, in the sudden unnervedness of being only a breath from him, almost lost on her, "Why is it, when I've just shown you the way out, are you more intent on arguing my intentions, than in finding your dreams?"

For a moment she could only stand there, caught by those eyes, one that seemed to see everything, one that seemed to gaze deeper into her own soul than even she'd ever dared to see… Him, firmly in her personal space, one arm reaching past her, to brace himself against the stone. Waiting, as his eyes dropped, without a further word, to her lips, for her answer.

"Why are you helping me?" She finally whispered back… All she had strength to summon…

Only for the Goblin King to cock one eyebrow, purse his mouth in a thoughtful little moue, and pull away from where he was more or less pinning her to his Labyrinth wall, letting her take her first real breath since he'd claimed the distance between them. "Well, that would be the riddle then, wouldn't it?" He mused, tilting his head at her in a rather owlish way, before he smiled, and took another step back, almost generously, a yielding of distance. "Of course, the obvious answer being too obvious, I suppose…"

Sarah stared at him, distrustfully, but more aware than ever that she did need help, someone's help, maybe even Jareth's, if she was going to make it through this place a second time. "What answer would that be?" She asked at last, careful to keep her tone deliberately without confrontation… Just in case he should get it into his head that he actually did want to help her… Not that she expected him to.

That little play of amusement across his lips, his eyes, somehow, growing cold, even as his voice turned gentle. "Why, that I want you to find your dreams, Sarah." He murmured smoothly. "Why do you think I brought you back here in the first place?"

"No…" Sarah denied, after a moment of just staring at him, refusing to believe it was true. "You can't be trying to be nice to me now, you just want…" And here of course she failed.

Not entirely because Jareth chose that moment to press his own line of questioning forward. "What, Sarah?" He mused, moving back towards her, and making her, with the sudden sense of being trapped, move quickly away. "No, Sarah, by all means, tell me what it is that I want… Clearly you know so much better than I."

When she didn't answer, he continued to follow her, as she retreated, until once more, she had nowhere to go… But then, once he had her trapped, her came no further, not claiming her last bit of safety this time. "Or shall I tell you what I want, Sarah?" He hissed softly, his voice just a breath, not enough to be a threat, but enough to wiggle under her skin, and give her goosebumps.

She swallowed, hard. "What do you want?" She echoed, her own words just a whisper.

"I, want you, Sarah…" His voice almost a purr, as he dropped this simple innuendo… only to go on, something like anger rising in his tone, though never enough to make his voice rise even a little. "I want you to know what you could have had. To know what you gave up." His eyes were brittle chips of ice. "I want you to know the true consequences of your actions… To learn why you call me the villain… And how much that little vow of yours really means, when you're the one poised to lose everything."

All this said though, leaving her shaking with anger, fear, confusion, and trying not to show it… Something changed in the goblin king's features. He looked defiant still, angry- But something else. Something that, once again, she couldn't put her finger on. Like there was something about this whole thing that he still hadn't made his peace with, and it wasn't resentment or pride, or anything like that. And it was only there for a moment, a breath, and then… He looked away.

"When you ask for help, Sarah… And you will ask…" His voice softer, almost consenting, as he twisted his hand, and a crystal appeared at his fingertips… Serving no purpose for now, it seemed, but giving him something to look at, other than her, "You may find yourself surprised at just how willing I am to come to your assistance. But do not mistake that for a moment, by thinking we are… friends."

What in the world was she supposed to say to that? "I have enough friends." She whispered finally, still angry, even if he wasn't… Angry, and worried about what the goblin king had hinted at, even if she didn't know whether or not to believe him.

"Yes," Jareth mused, still watching the crystal, "I suppose you should find them then." He lifted his gaze, and his hand, pointing one finger, and swinging it sharply from side to side, with a small, utterly humorless smile. "Tick. Tock."

Sarah ignored him, red in the face, and moved right past the Goblin King without another glance, grabbing for the door in the wall, and swinging it open… Not giving him the chance to pull one of his dramatic vanishing acts, but just turning her back on him, crouching to fit through the door, and slamming it shut, defiantly, behind her. She needed help, yes, she could admit that. Just not his help.

And yet somehow, something in his words, or rather, maybe something in what he hadn't said… For the first time, Sarah was filled not simply with the sense of immediate danger, but something deeper. Something that creeped to her bones. And she wondered, for the first time, what it was that Jareth expected her to find, that made him so willing to help her…

----------------