Sarah pondered the letter in her hand. She was a bit reluctant to open it, seeing as Jareth had gone to such extreme lengths to give it to her.

She frowned and a spark of irritation flared through her.

One thing was for sure, Toby would only receive coal for Christmas this year. That little sucker had wished her away and then gone back to bed as if nothing happened.

Sarah made herself take a deep breath in and out.

The room was silent.

Sarah had presumed herself alone until she turned to see thirty unblinking eyes staring back at her. The goblins had stealthily been creeping towards her. Their heads peeked out of the holes in the stone walls and beady eyes eagerly watched for her reaction.

"Did she open it yet?" A jarring voice broke the silence.

"Shut up," the room hollered at the oblivious goblin.

Sarah rolled her eyes and ignored them. She was already annoyed by their unhelpful antics tonight.

Steeling her nerves, she opened the envelope with a swift tear.

It was an invitation.

She blinked. Sarah felt anxiety arise in her chest - and, if she was completely honest with herself, a thrilled flutter.

A ball. He'd invited her to another ball.

Something rippled behind her. She could feel cool waves press against her back. The hairs on the back of her neck stood. Sarah swung her head towards the presence.

There, on the masculine throne, sat the Goblin King. His body relaxed and cat-like, limbs splayed comfortably with hooded eyes. He watched her with aloof confidence. His mouth pressed into a thin line.

The Goblin King radiated coquettishness, knowledge, and self-assurance that no amount of self-help books could teach a mortal.

Sarah couldn't decide if she liked the attention or not.

"What's this?" Sarah said, turning to him.

He raised a brow. "Did you not read it?"

Sarah refrained from rolling her eyes. Right, in the labyrinth one has to ask the right questions.

"I did. I was hoping you'd explain it."

"It is simple, really. I am hosting the annual ball to celebrate the labyrinth. I thought it only right that you be there - as you are the labyrinth's first and only champion. Nothing more, other than your presence, is expected."

His voice was strictly formal and refined.

"Oh," she said reticently. She had thought that he was inviting her. Not out of necessity but out of… Sarah broke out of her thoughts, rather tired of being a hopeless romantic, and remembered how well the last ball she'd attended with him had gone.

The way his amatory advances still held a detached air, the mocking laughs of the nobility around her, and her naïve innocence. She had thought he'd been on her side until his grip had tightened - wanting her to only look at him - and he pulled her closer when she struggled.

The Goblin King was flaunting his prey before the court.

And they crowded around her and laughed.

Sarah schooled her features. "I'm not obligated to go, am I?"

Jareth seemed to sense her change in demeanor and hid his frustration well, but Sarah glimpsed the tensing of his shoulders. "I have already stated that I am giving you your own choice. Think about it. You have thirteen hours before you return home. Unless…" His voice carried off.

"Unless what?"

"Unless you would like to stay longer." His suddenly seemed as if they were burning into hers, a teasing smirk playing on his face.

She caught the seductive inflection in his voice. It had been easy to miss when she had first run the labyrinth, but now the suggestion was painfully blatant.

"Honestly," she began.

He quirked his head as if telling her to go on.

"I'll have to decline both offers. I'd rather go home and babysit my brother. Thanks for the invitation, though." His seductive smirk fell. Sarah tried to hide a smug smile, but the corners of her mouth lifted slightly. She felt like twisting the knife. "It's too bad you went through all this trouble just for me to say no."

Jareth's eyes narrowed at her lips, then flickered back up to her eyes. He gave her one last burning stare. "Thirteen hours, Sarah. Then I will come and hear your final decision." Before she knew it, he had disappeared in a cloud of multicolored glitter.

Which she and five other goblins promptly inhaled.

They all let out choking coughs and Sarah fanned the air with her invitation.

"Always does that," a goblin complained.

When Sarah finally cleared her throat she glared at the throne.


Jareth dusted off invisible specks of dirt from his poet's shirt. He inspected his image in the mirror, frowning at a stray hair. The Goblin King sighed and then fluffed his feathery locks back into perfect disarray.

A small goblin beside him pretended to brush off his own tattered shirt, mimicking the movements of the Goblin King. Jareth took notice of him and frowned.

"Shouldn't you be guarding the door?"

A polite knock turned his attention away from the mirror.

"Enter," the chubby goblin next to him yelled.

Jareth glowered at the botch of proper etiquette. The castle guards never seemed to do what he wanted them to.

A young woman entered. Her hair piled hair atop her head in an elegant updo and her dress exaggerated her hourglass shape, hugging her waist tightly then letting go to flow out at an impossible width from her hips down. In her hand, she clutched a thin folder with a feeble amount of samples sticking out.

"Your majesty, the portrait painter is here," the short goblin whispered redundantly.

Jareth's elegant gloved hand waved over the goblin. "Bog," he stated, and the chubby short creature disappeared with a cut-off yelp.

Jareth turned and watched coolly as the young woman curtsied before him.

"Your majesty," she said.

Her small brown eyes inspected the walls of the study. Clearly impressed. While the goblin kingdom was perhaps not the most prestigious of the kingdoms she'd visited before, the Goblin King himself was perhaps one of the most grandiloquent of them all. And there was no debate that the labyrinth he created is a historic masterpiece.

His sharp features were politely reserved. "My dear Louise, I regret that I have not sent my condolences. Your father was a talented man."

She observed that the height of the room seemed to stretch on forever. Louise felt a sense of foreboding. The walls were lined with deeply embedded bookshelves that were outlined with beautiful woodwork. Deep cherry leaves and flowers held the books up and lined the edges of the shelves up until they reached the domed ceiling of the room.

She nodded. In fae culture, it is rude to respond with 'thank you'. "My father spoke highly of you," she returned.

Jareth walked over to his desk and motioned her to follow.

He held out his hand and she silently gave him a copy of all the commissions she had done within the last couple years. Jareth sat and began to examine her work.

Her eyes nervously trailed along the cherry wood of his desk. It was dark and framed with the same florid woodwork that outlined the striking bookshelves. Couches and chairs filled the rest of the room, some angled before his desk, and others before a coffee table that sat in front of a grand fireplace. A matching red carpet rolled out from the structure and it complimented the richness of the room.

Seeing his eye for detail, the girl began to fidget.

His calm, collected composure did little to stifle her nerves. She hoped that her painting would live up to his expectations.

Louise stood before him meekly. She fixed her stance and posture so that she appeared as proper as possible. She resisted the urge to excuse herself as his piercing eyes ate up every single detail on the pages. They paid special attention to the flaws, even the ones that no one else noticed.

Jareth looked up at her after a moment.

"The Troll King," Jareth stated. He raised an eyebrow, "A wedding commission?"

"Yes." Her thin lips pursed in indecision. She waited a moment to see if he would elaborate. When he said nothing she hesitantly added, "I can have your portrait finished within three days." Louise felt the need to validate herself, "I am adaptable - so I can make any last-minute changes if you need."

Jareth nodded, not looking up. "I shall have to keep that in mind." She waited for another minute as he flipped through the file. Then, the Goblin King set the papers down in front of him and turned to her. "I would like to start right away. The portrait shall be finished before the annual ball. Can you do that?"

"Yes, your majesty."

Louise began to curtsy, taking his silence as a queue to go and gather her supplies, but he held up a gloved hand.

"Wait," he paused, remembering his plan on having Sarah see the portrait. Jareth glanced down at the outfit he was wearing. "I believe a change is due."

He stood and his hand that was in the air made a quick twisting motion. The clothes on his body transformed.

Louise blinked and, within that second, he was suddenly wearing a suit of imposing goblin-like armor. She had seen portraits of the goblin king before, but those were often paintings of him dressing in royal finery, never the sort of formidable regalia that he was wearing before her now.

A dark, leathery cloak surrounded him. The material that covered his shoulders looked like that of a bat's wings and was heavy. It billowed out into a lighter fabric that was black with a shiny cerulean hue once the light caught it. The cape came up around his neck and flared out, framing his feathery hair.

His chest was plated. The Goblin Kingdom insignia no longer hung from his neck as a shining pendant, but a darkened piece of metal built into his breast. Yellowed bones stuck out and weaved themselves through the fabric and armor.

The outfit was imposing. It terrified and coerced. If she hadn't been intimidated by him before, she sure was now.

"Uh," she stuttered.

Jareth caught a glimpse of his skintight leggings in the mirror.

"I would like the painting to capture every detail," he said.

The skin around his eyes crinkled with a wicked gleam and he turned his gaze back to her.

She blinked and nodded. "O - Of course, your majesty."

Jareth's thin lips stretched into a roguish smirk. Yes, this outfit would do nicely.


At this moment Sarah believed that one could define 'torture' in many ways. Back in the throne room, Sarah contemplated the idea of her younger brother wishing her away. She was not sure whether he was under some sort of compulsion spell or he'd done this on his own.

Sarah thought that this behavior was unlike her happy little brother. She wondered how the Goblin King could have coerced him into the wish. The idea that he could've been so angry with her as to wish her away tortured her mind.

That was when a heavy weight struck her suddenly in the chest. She stumbled back in surprise.

"Sorry, Lady," an unexpectedly deep voice said from the floor beneath her. Sarah blinked at the portly goblin that was now laying on the ground flat on his face.

The goblins in the room let out a series of frenetic laughs.

Sarah swung her head towards the center of the throne room and the activity that was taking place there.

"We's playing Hopscotch," Wiznic crowed.

The goblins raised their arms in agreement and cheered enthusiastically.

"That's great," Sarah said facetiously.

"Play with us, Lady." A goblin grabbed her hand. His green skin was wet and sticky. Sarah quickly tugged her arm free and shook her head.

"Puh-leasee lady," they whined.

She glanced at the clock. There were twelve hours left until she'd be sent home. She sighed. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt."

The goblins beamed up at her and cheered once again.


They were terrible at playing hopscotch. Sarah reasoned that she should have known, seeing as their legs were short and stubby, but what they lacked in height they made up with cheating.

No matter how many times Sarah lectured them, they still seemed to think that it was 'fair' to launch themselves across the chalk squares with the help of several other goblins. A goblin would pick up another by his feet and swing him across the chalked outline. Once the victim landed in a square, the perpetrator would then go and stand in it. This resulted in 'teams', much to Sarah's consternation, and hopscotch quickly evolved into seeing which team was best at launching each other the farthest.

Sarah was just finishing up her fifth lecture on how they can't throw their teammates across the chalk squares when Team Bog Squatters burst into the throne room with a catapult.

Their defense was that she had said they can't throw each other, so they thought of other means to get the same result.

Sarah blinked, closed her mouth, and sat down on the dirty stone floor silently. She resigned herself to the fact that she would not be playing a true game of hopscotch with the goblins tonight. If ever.

A small figure sat down next to her and she turned to see Gus munching on a piece of toast that she had brought with her from the Aboveground.

She frowned and almost argued that it belonged to her, but paused when she saw the amount of slobber that covered the now soggy bread.

He can have it, she decided courteously.

"'is majesty let urs dwarf friend outta the oubliette," Gus said with a muffled voice.

He started to smack his lips loudly and the goblins playing 'Hopscotch' turned to shush him. Gus glared back and rebelliously bit off a rather large piece of bread.

"Good. Poor Hoggle. Only trying to warn me."

"Had it comin'," Gus said unsympathetically.

Sarah sighed in response.

She eyed the clock hanging on the wall across from them. She had eleven hours left to kill. Eleven. What did Jareth expect her to do with all this time? Run his labyrinth again? Take a nap? Deeply consider his offer?

No, she'd already made up her mind. She wasn't going to change it. Sarah did not want Jareth getting any ideas, and if he thought that coercing her brother into wishing her away and trapping her down here for thirteen hours was a good way to get her to agree to anything, he wouldn't hesitate to use the idea again.

She felt peeved that he had somehow coerced her little brother into wishing her away.

"The gall of that man," she scoffed to herself.

Gus just ignored her. He bit off an entirely too large piece of bread and was chewing it with half of it hanging from his mouth.

So much for having her 'human food'. Maybe she could get Gus to travel back home and pick her up some dinner...

A brilliant idea lit Sarah's eyes up in bright defiance.

She turned to Gus who was still happily munching away.

"Hey, you like toast, don't you?" Sarah drawled curiously. Gus nervously peered up at the young woman.

"Uhm, yeahs?" His eyes bounced frantically from her hand to the plate of bread he held.

"I'm not going to take it from you. In fact, what if I promise to let you have as much toast as you want? What do you think?"

He paused and looked as if he was seriously considering the offer. He scratched the hairs on his head and his furry tail thumped on the floor in kindled interest. "I's... thinks that wouldn't be's so bad."

Bribery always worked with the goblin lot.

"Then I've got a plan…" Sarah stood and held out her hand.

"Okey dokey," Gus stood and reached for her hand, unceremoniously letting go of the plate to do so. He calmly watched as Karen's china fell to the floor. It shattered. Sarah hurriedly covered her ears from the sharp sound. The remaining pieces of toast scattered, along with shards of the plate, across the stained stone floor. Chickens curiously crept up to pick at the bread with their beaks.

Gus, unperturbed by the mess he had just made, turned to her expectantly.

"Okay, set that down right there, I guess." She frowned and dropped her hands from her head. Now she owed Karen a plate.

Sarah sighed. "We'll discuss your destructive tendencies later… First, let's check on Hoggle and make sure he made it out of the oubliette alright. Then we'll make sure you can have all the toast you want. Do you know what the king's doing?"

"Kingy has kingy appo-appointment."

"What kind of appointment?"

"Uh, he's gettin' his portraitz taken."

Sarah rolled her eyes. "So, I'm stuck in the Underground for thirteen hours while the King is off getting a portrait painted?"

"He's a wery busy man," Gus shrugged.

"Typical." Sarah shook her head and then eyed the clock. "Hopefully that'll buy us some time to get out of here, at least."


I know. I know. It's been since June '17 since I've updated. I'm terrible.

I'd say I won't do it again but I don't want to sound like a broken record.

Funny, I originally started writing this story in order to get over writer's block. Here I am almost 2 years later and it's pulling me out of writer's block again. I've been anxiously sitting on this chapter for a while and one of my dear friends nudged me to finally submit it. So, here I am. Thank you, friend.

Also, thank you guys for your patience. I've already gotten the next few chapters outlined so this story should flow pretty easily for a while. This chapter is just a filler for the mischief that's about to come. Mwuahahah.

Thank you guys for reading, reviewing, following and favoriting! Please continue and I will send Gus and Wiznic to give you guys ALL the hugs!

I hope you enjoy the update. :)

-Godzilla out

*Author rushes right back in*

Oh, I forgot.

I don't own the labyrinth or any of its original characters. I just own the silly idea of this story and the ridiculous goblins that give it color.