Author's note: Another chapter for your reading pleasure. Standard disclaimer still applies. Thank you to all of my reviewers - you wield more power in one or two words that I could ever hope to possess.

Jareth put his quill down and rubbed the throbbing pain at his temples. The day could not have gone worse, even if he had planned it. When he'd entered the Labyrinth this morning, he'd been filled with the foolish hope that somehow things would change for the better. Jareth hadn't thought it out enough to think of actual things that would improve, and maybe if he had, he would have realized sooner how illogical an idea it was. Perhaps then he would never have gone through with it.

But he had gone through with it. And now he had to endure the penalty for action: once done, it couldn't be undone. And look at what he'd done. He'd caused more harm today than any one day since this mess began. Instead of reacting positively to Sarah's presence, the Labyrinth had become violently dangerous, prompting him to issue orders for the mandatory evacuation of the entire Labyrinth. There was no way he'd let any of his citizens remain there, not after today's events; it wasn't safe. The advisors that hadn't been dispatched to issue his orders were busy now, readying other parts of the castle for habitation. Still others were gathering teams of strong, brave volunteers from among dwarves and goblins alike to venture into the Labyrinth and salvage what was left of their crops. He had, perhaps, been fortunate that the darkness had chosen to darken the Eastern quadrant of his Labyrinth; little agricultural activity took place there, and no shortage of food had resulted. But now, after today, the only source of fresh food would be from what was grown in the goblin city. That would sustain his kingdom for, what…a few months? It was a liberal estimate, and Jareth knew it.

After all that, the news that the darkness had expanded its borders by at least ten meters in some directions, and more in others, had been mere icing on the cake. A very dull, depressing cake. Bit-by-bit, the Labyrinth was strangling its inhabitants, cutting off every exit, every escape, until they were all trapped. But where would they go if they weren't trapped? Who could Jareth turn to for help? The Underground had cast them out, content to let them reside in the middle of a barren desert as long as they never showed their faces anywhere else in the Underground. For Jareth, it had been a personal choice, but for everyone else, for all the dwarves, trolls, goblins, ogres, gnomes, and other creatures emotionlessly labeled as monsters by the rest of the Underground, for them, it hadn't been a choice; if they hadn't joined him, they would have been eradicated. As it was they were already close to extinction; years confined to the Labyrinth and their own company had dwindled their populations, until only dwarves, goblins, and a handful of other creatures remained.

But what did that matter now? He was no closer to finding an answer now than he had been eight months ago. But unlike then, when he'd had an indeterminate amount of time to find a solution, he only had a few months now. After that, their food supply would vanish, and they couldn't live on water alone. All that he had fought for a thousand years ago would have been in vain. The creatures he had tried to shelter, they would disappear, un-mourned and unremembered, save by him. He alone might survive, and then only because of his immortality, which he would rather give up than return to his position in the greater Underground.

Why hadn't he prepared for this? Simple: the Labyrinth had chosen to save him and all those who followed him a millennium ago. It had been the Labyrinth who'd reached out to them, the outcast children, rescued them from the unfeeling landscape, given them a place to make their final, successful stand. He'd never dreamed that those walls, the first place he'd ever truly called home, would turn on him. He should have remembered that the Labyrinth was part of the Underground and as such, it could embrace him one moment, and hunt him into nonexistence the next.

Jareth longed for those days, a thousand years ago, when he had wielded a blade of forged steel and his own magic in defense of his people against a known enemy. If he could settle the current crisis by shedding his own blood, he'd gladly do it. He involuntarily flexed his gloved hand, remembering the feel of his weapon and the physical pain of injury. What hope did he have against an enemy that was as mysterious as it was malevolent?

And the worst thing about today was that he'd put Sarah in danger. Ah, Sarah; her name was a sigh. She was the only light in this time. She had been the only person he could turn to for help. Jareth amended his prior thought: he'd rather be here with Sarah beside him, facing an inscrutable adversary than back in time a thousand years, when all he'd had was the dream of her. He could give it all up now, let it slip through his fingers, if she would only look at him again the way she had this morning, when she'd asked him to join her soon. It was foolish of him. It went beyond foolishness into lunacy, to put her above all else, since she had caused this crisis. Especially since she had done so by refusing his love. But Jareth, logical and precise in all things else, was no match for his own heart.

But he would still try. He'd only begun the first part of his plan this morning, walking Sarah through just a taste of the Labyrinth. But now, after seeing the Labyrinth's reaction, how could he continue? But there was something in that: why had the Labyrinth objected so strongly and unleashed hell on them? Why today, and not any of the days before? The only thing that had changed was that Sarah was there. Jareth was never surer that she was the cause of the problem, not after seeing how her mere presence excited the Labyrinth so. But what could he make of that? It was clear that Sarah did have an affect on the Labyrinth, a greater one than he could ever hope to have, albeit a negative one. Could he turn that savage tempest into a solution? Was there any room for hope?

Jareth felt it, that indefatigable, naïve part of him rising up, buffeted by the winds of hope, ripe for another foolhardy adventure, and destined to plummet into despair. With it, the throbbing in his temples increased, and he dropped his head into his hands, willing it to end. In that position, with the blood pounding in his ears, he didn't hear the knock on the door, or the opening of the door. He didn't hear her enter, and it wasn't until she spoke that he even knew she was there.

The first thing Sarah saw as she entered the room was Jareth, hunched over his desk, his head in his hands, his entire body the very sign of defeat. To see him laid so bare was unnerving, and she had a very strong urge to turn back and pretend she'd never been there, but she had a purpose and she was not to be distracted from it.

"Jareth?" He bolted upright at the sound of her voice, somewhat startled. "I knocked, but I didn't hear anything…" Sarah's voice trailed off into an unformed question.

"Of course you did; I was preoccupied and I didn't hear you. Come in. What's that you have there?" Jareth stood as she approached, adjusting his jacket and gloves.

Sarah came forward and presented him with a scroll, the one he'd recorded all the problems on. "I thought you might need this, after today." She set it on the desk when he didn't move to take it from her.

"Thank you; I was going to send for it, but now you've saved me the trouble. Please sit down; this will only take a few moments." Sarah did as asked, and watched as he returned to his seat and unfurled the scroll. In one fluid motion, he picked up a quill, dipped it into an inkwell, and began to write. Sarah noted how fine his penmanship was, and although she could understand what it said, the script was alien to her, a series of swirls and flourishes that had no business bearing such dark news. Not for the first time, Sarah noticed Jareth's gloves, and wondered why he wore them; she'd never seen his bare hands before.

Realizing that she was staring, Sarah looked to her own hands, which were absently worrying the hem of her shirt. She was nervous. She had several things she wanted to say to him, but had no idea how to say them. Jareth had saved her from the Labyrinth, physically carried her in his arms to get her out of there. Sarah wished she could remember more of it, more of the feel of his surprisingly strong arms and warm chest. She wanted to thank him for saving her, but she couldn't think of a way to phrase it. She couldn't just say 'Thank you for saving me, you're my hero!' He'd think her an idiot. She also wanted to apologize. What had happened today had been her fault- undeniably so. She was the reason that they'd had to run for their lives from the Labyrinth. She'd put her friends in danger; she had put Jareth in danger. Not only because she'd been too weak to fight whatever it was that had taken hold of her, but also because she had started the entire thing. If she'd never wished Toby away, none of this would have ever happened. The Underground would be the same. The Labyrinth would be the same. Her friends would have continued their lives. And Jareth would never have been so care-worn. As for herself, well, she'd have never known what she was missing, right? Sarah's guilt intensified because she knew that if she'd had it to do over again, she would have made the same choices. Her life would not have been complete without all of …this.

"What's bothering you, Sarah?" She jumped at the sound of his voice, abruptly pulled from her thoughts. Jareth had put his quill down and was now surveying her with a pair of very guarded eyes.

Where should she begin? "Nothing. I just…I just wanted to thank you for today. For helping me, I mean. I don't know what came over me." After her hesitant beginning, Sarah felt a torrent of words trying to escape her and continued without pause, " I'm sorry for putting you in that position. I'm sorry for putting my friends in danger. I'm sorry for burdening you more than you already are. I'm sorry for the Labyrinth. I'm sorry for everything. I'm-" Sarah's voice thickened, and she looked back down at her hands so he wouldn't see the ill-timed tears brimming in her downcast eyes.

"Sarah, stop!" His voice was harsh to her ears, and she fell silent. And then Jareth was there, taking her hands between his gloved ones. He sat facing her, their knees just inches apart. "Don't blame yourself. This isn't your fault. If anyone's to blame, it's me." His voice was calm, almost soothing, and his hands were warm. He used one hand to tilt her head up, so she met his eyes. "Say you understand, Sarah. This isn't your fault. You have nothing to be sorry for." He was sincere, and that made it all the more harder for Sarah not to lose control of her tears.

She nodded, mastering her emotions with enormous strength of will. She took a breath as he removed his hands and said, "You're a good friend, Jareth."

It was good for Jareth that he'd let go of her hands, otherwise she have known by the involuntary spasm that passed through him just how much her words affected him. He had no other way to respond than with honesty. "Thank you." He sat fully back in his chair, changing gears in his mind. "Now about today, something obviously did come over you and we need to figure out what. I need you to tell me everything you remember. Anything you remember seeing, thinking, feeling. Anything at all. Don't withhold a single detail."

Sarah mirrored his posture and after taking a restorative breath, began. "This morning started out well. I found you, then my friends, and then we left. I didn't see anything out of the ordinary, aside from all the gloom. I can't say exactly when it started, but it wasn't long after we entered the Labyrinth when I started feeling ill. Not ill as in sick, just a more general, psychological ill. I felt depressed, inexplicably sad and abandoned."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Jareth withheld adding an accusatory note to his query.

Sarah looked back down at her hands. "I didn't want to worry you. You have enough to deal with; I felt I could handle a little melancholy."

Jareth leaned forward, resting his elbows on the arms of the chair, tenting his hands before him. "Indeed. Then what happened?"

"Then you and Ludo saw something in the water. I felt drawn to that pool, inexplicably entranced by it, until you broke the spell. I remember not feeling as sad then; I felt more myself, especially when we stopped for lunch and rested. But on the way back, it got worse. First the depression came back, and then there was panic. I felt terrified about leaving the Labyrinth. I almost felt like…that is…" How could she say what she felt without sounding accusatory?

"Whatever it is, just say it. Please."

Well, since he insisted. "I felt like I was being judged, like I was being put on parade, the girl who had ruined the Labyrinth. I know that wasn't the case. I had an irrational fear of the dwarves in your foyer – that you were going to loose them on me for wrecking their lives. After that, I remember seeing and hearing less, almost like walking through a fog. Sometime later, you said to hurry, and I felt so …angry. I remember wondering why I should rush just so you could feed me to the wolves. I don't know what it was that came over me, but it was like someone had invaded my thoughts, determined to make me not want to leave the Labyrinth. I dimly remember you shouting, and the sound of distant thunder. I didn't want to leave; I think I tried to prevent you from helping me. The next thing I remember is being in the city, my mind perfectly clear. I asked you what had happened and you said-"

"That I didn't know," Jareth finished. They sat in comfortable, thoughtful silence for a few moments, and then Jareth spoke. "I still don't know, but I agree with you; I think that the Labyrinth did its best to keep you within its walls. It didn't want you to leave, and it put up a powerful fight."

"You think it was the Labyrinth that did it? The Labyrinth can do that?" Sarah asked, incredulously. "It can read my thoughts, invade my mind?"

Jareth wasn't sure how to answer; he didn't know himself. "I believe it can. In my years as king, I have always sensed that the Labyrinth was more than just a maze. It has a magic of its own, and I've seen it use that magic, but I've never known it to act so possessively. That is why we can't take that risk again."

Sarah blinked. "What do you mean?"

Jareth thought it should have been quite obvious, but explained. "I mean that from now on, no one is to enter the Labyrinth. All remaining citizens are being evacuated to the castle as we speak. The Labyrinth is unsafe."

"But your plan – we're still going to continue it, right?"

"No." Jareth stood, and began pacing. "It was a foolish plan; you can see the chaos it's caused. I can't allow it to happen again."

"Exactly." Sarah stood too, turning to face Jareth. He stared back, ignorant of her meaning. "The chaos you mentioned – it's a result of going against the Labyrinth's wishes. It wanted me to stay, but I didn't, so it lashed out. How much more chaos do you think will result if we continue to deny the Labyrinth what it wants?"

"And what exactly is that?"

"Me," Sarah answered simply.

"I see," said Jareth. He thought for a moment and then said, "Well, if you intend to make yourself a sacrificial lamb, I suppose I could find a spare white gown for you to do so in. Don't worry; you needn't return it." The sarcasm positively dripped from his words.

Sarah frowned. "Jareth, I'm serious."

"Are you? Have you realized that this isn't some fairy tale? The Labyrinth isn't some dragon you can appease by a human sacrifice."

"What's your solution, then?" Sarah asked sharply. Jareth said nothing, and Sarah relented. "You see, that's why we've got to try it. We've got to find a solution."

"Thank you for reminding me, but I'm perfectly well aware of the fact that a solution is needed, but not one that puts so much at risk." He sounded so distant, so cold.

"I'm not going to offer myself trussed up like some sacrificial maiden; that's not what the Labyrinth wants. It didn't try to harm me today, not physically at least. It simply wanted to keep me, in as innocent a sense as possible. If we give it what it wants, then perhaps things might change for the better."

Jareth could see the logic of her plan; he himself had arrived at a similar conclusion, but he could not go through with it. Jareth couldn't stand idly by and let Sarah put herself at risk. How could he give her up? What if she was wrong and the Labyrinth's intentions were anything but innocent? How could he ever forgive himself if something happened to her? He couldn't. Didn't she realize that? It was out of the question. Perhaps it was as simple as this: if he couldn't have her, then neither could the Labyrinth.

"Out of the question. I will not allow it. If something should happen to you…no. It is unthinkable. Besides, what if something happens to me?" Sarah opened her mouth to speak, but he held up a hand to silence her, and continued. "You're not going anywhere near the Labyrinth without me, so don't even think about it." He waited to see if she would challenge him; she didn't. "If you're wrong about the Labyrinth, and something does happen, what happens to the kingdom then? I have no heir. I hate to sound arrogant, but without me, this kingdom would fall into ruin, a greater one than the present state. And speaking of the present state of affairs, are you aware of what today's adventure has cost this kingdom?"

Sarah recognized the rhetorical question, and wisely held her tongue. Jareth turned away from her, his eyes directed out the window. "The darkness has grown. Even if the Labyrinth hadn't reacted so brutally, I'd still have had no choice but to evacuate everyone left within its walls. We're effectively trapped in this city, unable to penetrate the Labyrinth. We're cut off from our source of food. If you're wrong, and we go through with your plan, we could end up angering the Labyrinth even more. It might invade the city's borders, shortening the time we have left. I can't let that happen. I can't risk the lives of every man, woman, and child within this kingdom. You're not going."

Sarah watched him in silence. She could sense his frustration; it was evident in the slope of his back and in the set of his shoulders. It was painful to see; she had to do something. Deep down, Sarah felt that giving herself up to the Labyrinth was the right thing to do. She hadn't lied when she'd said the Labyrinth hadn't tried to harm her. It had gone to great lengths to convince her to say without physically harming her. If she could somehow convince it that she wasn't going anywhere; that when she left its borders, she would return, perhaps it might let her go without the great fuss it'd made today. If that didn't work, she'd simply stay in the Labyrinth. Surely it wouldn't behave so furiously if she met its demands. She wasn't afraid of the Labyrinth, not for herself. But she was terrified of what might happen if she did nothing.

"Jareth, you asked me to help, and I'm going to do just that, even if you don't agree with my methods. I'm going back into the Labyrinth with or without you, not because I want to play the heroine and not because I'm being reckless. I'm going to do it because I think it's the right thing to do." She stood behind him and added in a smaller voice, "But I'd feel much better if you'd come with me."

Jareth stood with his back to her, warring with himself. She could go on her own; he hadn't the power to prevent it. She could do as she wished, her actions unchecked, all because of those six little words. With her mind thusly made up, it would be futile to try and convince her to not go. The question now was would he be going with her, or would he not? He didn't even have to think to answer it. If she was going into danger, then he was going to be beside her, no matter what.

Sarah watched his shoulders heave as he took a deep breath, and then he turned around and faced her, surrender written in his face. In a resigned voice he said, "As you wish. I will go with you. Tomorrow."

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Author's Addendum: Please, please review!