Author's Note: And, after a bit of time, here is the next chapter. We get to meet Jareth's dad in here, as well as learn the meaning behind his appearance. And, of course, cause some more trouble with Sarah. But, hey, at least I made up for the update-less time with some big going-ons in the story. I hope you enjoy, and new chapter should be up fairly soon.

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 and will be noted. Also, the title of the story, as well as the lyrics included, are from the Nightwish song, Sleepwalker.

--

Sleepwalker
A place between sleep and awake,
end of innocence, unending masquerade,
that's where I'll wait for you…

It's been three years since Sarah thought she left the Labyrinth but,
as she's learning now, she's never truly been gone.

--

PART FOURTEEN
In my dreams you're mine to keep...

--

Before Lord Corrigan joined his son in Jareth's throne room, Jareth decided to resume his indifferent pose while resting in his throne. If anything, the position would serve to prove to his father that he was neither intimidated by his presence nor showing respect for the Lord's intrusion during his affairs. He accentuated the blasé façade by lifting his glove-adorned hand and resting his chin within his palm, while his elbow settled on the throne's arm.

Despite his aloof demeanor, Jareth was more than a little interested as to his father's unexpected visit within the castle. It had been decades – centuries, even – since the last time Corrigan had forsaken his own palace in order to arrive, unannounced, within the Goblin City walls. As the overlord of the Sidhe Council, Corrigan had precious few moments with which to visit his second born son. For the most part, he left the running of the labyrinth, and the rule of the goblins, to Jareth without any interference.

But why, then, is Father here today?

Jareth had an inkling as to what his father's presence meant; it would be too coincidental if, on the day that he finally had Sarah Williams within his grasp, his father chose to visit him without any purpose.

As the Goblin King sat, perched royally in the crystalline throne, waiting for his father to arrive in the room, he could not help but notice that passage of time. He had assumed that, once he sent his goblin servant out to retrieve his father, that his father's grand entrance into the room would be immediate. Yet, time seemed to drag and his father still had not yet arrived.

Jareth's fingers itched to conjure a crystal back. With the Lord still waiting outside of the room, his pull on the magick continued; the vanity would still be there, offering Sarah passage out of the labyrinth. Was it possible that, after all the work and time that he put into this second chance, an unexpected intrusion – by way of his father arriving as the labyrinth clock ran – could cause his intricate plan to fail?

He could not let that happen. Quickly, in case his father appeared and questioned his scrying, Jareth waved his left hand until the glass ball materialized in between his waiting fingers. "Show me the girl," he commanded, a bit apprehensive as to what he would see.

His suspicion was justified when Sarah's image appeared within the crystal's depth. She was no longer standing apart from the vanity. Instead, she was cautiously approaching it; she was close enough to the structure that he could view both Sarah and the vanity within the same scene.

From the expression that twisted her beautiful features, Jareth could see that she was hesitant to go passed the vanity. Though she had gotten too close to the exit for his liking, he allowed himself a wry smile. Sarah had no idea as to why she did not want to go near the vanity, but Jareth did – deep down, Sarah did not want to leave the labyrinth.

However, just because she innately wanted to remain, despite her outward display of rejection towards his (unsaid) proposal, it did not mean that she could resist the lure of the vanity's reflection. Sarah, he knew, was curious by nature and such a sight, much like the glass coffin, would compel her to explore further – and he could not have that.

But what could he do? With his father's entrance into the room imminent, he could not just disappear to the labyrinth and take care of the problem personally. With Sarah stepping ever closer to the vanity, he did not have time to come up with a plan. And, as the magick continued to fail, he could not wish the vanity away.

Not for the first time did Jareth curse Sarah's brashness and stubbornness. If only the girl had given in when he first appealed to her dreams, he would not be in this predicament; if only the girl had not taken it upon herself to wish herself away to a second run of the labyrinth, where her very life (either mortal or immortal) was the prize.

His cold mask seemed to break under the realization that, in the cavalier manner with which he regarded Sarah's challenge, he had allowed himself to lose control over Sarah. His eyes narrowed onto the reflective glass of his crystal and he was incensed to see that Sarah was at the vanity already, peering readily into the mirror. She seemed transfixed by whatever it was she was seeing; her hand was outstretched as if she meant to touch the glass.

Jareth lifted his head from his hand and waving his right hand carelessly (though with intent), the elaborate clock with only ten digits gracing the face appeared before him. He began to rotate his hand, his pointer and middle finger extended. With the motion of his hand, the minute hand on the clock began to move. Where before there had been a little less than seven hours remaining in Sarah's generous ten hour limit, by the time he stopped the movement of his hand there were five hours left.

There. If that does not get Sarah's attention, I don't know what will.

--

Sarah was not sure what she should do. The very idea that the structure blocking her path was the same exact vanity that Jareth had tried to trick her with three years ago upset her – it bothered her in a way that she could not describe that he had recovered it when the Junk Lady's spell had failed. Was it because it seemed like a gesture done by a man (or fae, as it were) interested in retaining her possession? Or, was it because the Goblin King knew that she would return to the Underground one day, and, as such, the vanity could be used against her a second time?

She shook her head, causing her long brown ponytail to sway with the motion until it rested on her shoulder. It doesn't matter, really. All I have to do is squeeze my butt through the little space between the vanity and the labyrinth. Then, once I've gotten past it, it's behind me and I don't have to worry about it.

With that plan in mind, she decided just to move forward and get around the vanity. She had the sinking suspicion that the appearance of her old vanity in the middle of the labyrinth was nothing more than another of Jareth's tricks to stall her and cause her to waste time. And, like the child she had been the last time she went up against the Goblin King, she was falling for his every treachery.

Rather than let her green eyes fall on the piece of furniture, Sarah looked past the vanity. She looked forward, her eyes searching out the next turn in the labyrinth. With her time slipping by her, she could not afford to waste time on anything but making her way out of the maze.

But Sarah's own curiosity got the better of her and, just as she was about to sidle pass the vanity, the glimmer of the mirror caught her attention. She paused and moved in front of it, her aim to get a glimpse of her reflection. Though not a vain girl by any means, Sarah was still a girl and wanted to check on her appearance.

However, as simple as her intent was, the result was not so simple. When she peered into the reflective glass, she saw herself – but it was not her reflection.

What Sarah saw in the glass was her own bedroom. Even if all she saw was the walls and the floor, she would recognize her room.

But it was not all that was present in the image. There, off to the right, was her bed and, on her bed, lay a sleeping form.

In the mirror's glass, Sarah saw herself sleeping.

Whatever it was that her mirror twin was dreaming, it must not be pleasant. Her chest was heaving and, while her eyes were closed, her mouth was slightly open and there were wrinkles in her forehead. Mirror-Sarah's hand was rising slightly off of her comforter, her palm facing outward, as if she was warding something off.

So focused on what she was in the mirror, Sarah did not realize that she, too, was raising her hand up and towards the reflection.

Her hand was only inches away from the glass when she heard the gong ringing from a distance. The first gong brought her out of her trance as she tore her gaze away from the mirror. The second gong sounded and Sarah dropped her hand. The third gong ran and she glanced down at her watch. When the fourth gong erupted, she was confused. According to her watch, she should still have six hours and forty minutes left. That's when the fifth gong broke and Sarah dropped her hand, again, but with force.

"That's not fair," she said, loudly, without even realizing that was what she said.

According to the five gongs, Jareth had cheated her out of nearly two hours.

Her time was half up and she was no closer to his castle.

--

The door to his throne room opened with such force that the booming of the doors crashing inward stole Jareth's attention from both the labyrinth clock and his crystal baring Sarah's furious image. He did not have the opportunity to see how the girl reacted to his forwarding of time because, as soon as he viewed his father striding toward him, he caused the crystal to vanish. As soon as the crystal was gone, he turned his attention towards the clock. With another wave, it too was gone.

"Jareth, King. Do you not stand to greet your father?"

The Goblin King had wanted to remain in his throne, cool and uninterested, when his father finally entered the room. However, the Lord's presence coupled with his commanding tone demanded that Jareth rise to his feet. King or not, this man was his father – if he wanted respect, Jareth would have to give it him.

"Greetings, my Lord. And to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"

Lord Corrigan was an impressive man. Nearly a head taller than his son, his lithe frame made him appear to tower even higher. His long white hair, down to the mid of his back, was pulled back with a black strap, though two thick strands – one on each side of his long face – had fallen loose of its hold. His mouth was thin and stern, his nose long and pointy. His eyes, however, were his most alluring feature; a frosty grey color, they marked him as one of the Ancients.

Jareth had long stopped wondering just how old his father truly was. He could never get a straight answer out of him and, as he himself was approaching the end of his first millennia, he stopped wondering. There, too, would come the time when his age would be naught but a memory; it would not surprise him to learn that his father had forgotten just how long he had been alive.

His father's mouth, though it normally was set in a manner that betrayed whatever it was that he was thinking, curved slightly. "I see that your goblin was telling the truth. You are in the midst of a running of the labyrinth." He paused and gestured for his son to resume his seat in the throne as he continued to walk towards him. "And, from what I can see, you are eager for it to end. Why else would you be pushing time forward?"

Jareth sat down and bowed his head in respect. "Of course, my Lord. Such is the way of the labyrinth."

"Mm," Lord Corrigan replied, his answer not saying much at all. He paused when he was a few feet in front of his son's throne, folding his hands behind his back. Jareth, as he lifted his head up – he had paid the proper respects to his father; he could now treat him as his father rather than the head of the Council – could see, despite his father's airy tone, that he had, indeed, come to the Goblin City with a purpose. The steely look, causing his eyes to appear as hard as metal,

"Jareth, King," he began, adopting a formal tone, "In seven years from this point in time, you will reach the anniversary of one millennia since your mother, Lady Aldria, gave birth to you and brought you forth in existence. As is custom with our people, you must be wed by the eve of that day."

His father paused but Jareth, the recipient of many such speeches in his time – prior to this, the speech when he was told that it was his duty to be Goblin King was the most formal he had heard from his father – knew better than to speak. It was expected of him just to nod and accept what his father came to tell him. Besides, it was not as if he was expected to get married right away; there was still a bit of time left.

Jareth nodded.

"And, Jareth, King, second son of Corrigan and Aldria, should you not find a suitable bride prior to that date, you shall be wed to a noble of the Council's choosing." His father bowed his head once before meeting Jareth's gaze again. "Do you understand?"

Jareth nodded again.

He was not nervous. He planned on taking Sarah's hand in marriage – suitable bride or not – far before his father's deadline had arrived.