Chapter One:

"My Lord? My Lord?"

The voice of the pixie echoed through the room, although Jareth did not appear to hear it. She moved closer to him, trying again, "My Lord?" She stood on her tiptoes, only just being able to see over the side of the stone throne the Labyrinth's king was sat upon. "King Jareth?"

"I am waiting," Jareth announced, his voice sounding lacking in something it had once had owned.

The small fae shuffled nervously, "Sire, I bring an urgent message."

Jareth held out his leather gloved hand, and slowly the pixie set the parchment into his palm carefully. He closed his fingers around it and drew it to him, not opening of examining it.

The fae waited a second longer, and then realised she's been as good as excused. She bowed to the man seemingly ignoring her and left as quickly as her short legs could carry her.

As the door closed on the room, the painful constriction in Jareth's chest became unbearable, and the cough he had been holding in came out. He gave the blood a momentarily glance, but there was no more then usual. Removing the sticky gloves, he then turned his attention to the letter on his lap.

Jareth, it has come to everyone attention that you are ill and, we are saddened to conclude, probably dying.

It was all Jareth could do to keep from laughing. Saddened to conclude he was dying. If he died he knew almost everyone in the surrounding lands would be very grateful about it. He shook his blonde head and continued reading.

You, of course, have never fathered an heir. We feel it would be in The Labyrinth's and your best interests if you did this while you still had time. Our daughter…

Jareth sighed and screwed the paper up into a ball. He could never rest; people were still trying to pawn off daughters, cousins, nieces into his heart. He would have thought after several hundred years everyone would have given up on the idea. However it seemed no one would let him be a confirmed bachelor.

He stood and walked across the hard room, before sitting heavily on a window ledge, thankful he didn't need to walk further. Things were getting harder and harder, he looked out across his lands.

"Immortal my ass," He muttered to himself.

He heard the door to the room open unexpectedly, and he turned to see a tall figure in the doorway: A Female fae, with long silver hair and bright lilac eyes that were noticeable despite her being mostly in shadows. She wore a grey travelling cloak and brown riding boots.

The woman gave a warm smile, although her overall air was of worry. "King Jareth?"

"If you have another proposal of marriage, you may leave now," Jareth signed, returning his gaze to his kingdom.

The woman smiled, amused, "You're not that lucky, Your Majesty." She stepped forward, behind her followed a small bag as if it had legs of its own. She reached him and held out her hand, on her thumb was a bronze and gold ring, with a small rune moulded into it; the mark of a healer.

Jareth smiled, amused himself, "Healer, you are not needed here. I did not send for you, and no one else in my land is in need of you. You may rest your horse and then continue on to the next land."

The healer shook her head, looking like an adult scolding a small child. "I have heard many tales about the Goblin King, and I see they are all true."

"My reputation precedes me."

"You would say that," She smiled, "But not many people strive for a reputation like you." She through her cloak behind her hip, and reached for something on her belt. "A healer knows when there is pain, Sire, and I am not mistaken now, although you are trying to cloud it. It's difficult for people not to notice your Labyrinth's Outer wall is cracking."

Jareth raised an eyebrow, "The Fae King's castle is forever crumbling, and are there healers at his door?"

She produced a small disc of platinum and held it on her palm. "The King of the Fae is a bad housekeeper, not ill." She swiftly pulled her hand from under the disc and it remained suspended in the air. "It is well known to older races that the Labyrinth and its king are one." The disc glowed and suddenly ancient runes burned into it. She noted them and then picked the disc up again, showing it to him. "There, see? The disc has proven what I knew."

"Clever trick for a beginner," Jareth said, standing, and quickly leaning against the wall for support.

"A beginner?" The healer's eyes flashed. "And I suppose you wouldn't want the assistance of a beginner would you?"

"My dear, you are more astute then I gave you credit for."

The healer pulled the hair away from her neck and revealed a brown tattoo upon it. A diagonal line, with three star shaped dots along its left side and a shape like a backwards S on its right. "It's just as well I am a First Class Healer, isn't it Sire?"

"Women are always out to get me in some way."

"It's the genes." She placed the disc back on her belt. She looked at the Goblin King again. Her senses could feel his immense pain and fatigue… He would probably pass out if he stood there much longer. "Shall we sit, My Lord?" she asked carefully, sure he wouldn't if she suggested he needed to. "I've had a long ride up here."

He looked at her, his irregular eyes seeing right through her. "Healer, I assure you, you are wasting your time here. It would be better if you went to use your talents elsewhere."

She stared at him, infuriated that he would pass her off like that. She turned her head to the side and gestured to the bloody gloves. "That would suggest otherwise, My Lord."

Jareth gave a short laugh, "You are persistent, aren't you? I say you're not needed here."

She glared at the floor for a moment, and then her stare softened and broke into a smile. "I'll go ask a Goblin to set up a guest room for me then, shall I?"

"Healer-"

"Don't waste your needed breath, Sire, I'm not leaving." She smiled, her lilac eyes sparkling. "After all, you aren't the only stubborn person in the realm." She began to step across the tiles of the room, heading for the door. "I'll give you an examination in your quarters this evening, okay?"

Jareth smiled, it'd been a while since someone had said that, and that hadn't been a healer. "If you insist Healer, but you are wasting your time."

"Maybe I like wasting my time." The unusual floating bag hovered out behind her and the doors closed.

Relieved he was alone and could listen to his pain again, the Goblin King sat down the window's ledge. He shook his head to himself as he took a deep breath. A healer, in the home of the Labyrinth's king? It had been a while.