A/N Sorry this took me so long! I haven't been able to work on it lately. However, I did get the time to put this together : http://lsdpeach.batcave.net

Please Check it out and leave an entry in the slambook!

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~*~ Part Three: Dreams, Suspicions and Silencing ~*~

Her dreams were very odd that night, filled with a land better left forgotten . Waking up from the land of sleep, she had a fading image of him in her mind, and she was sure he would always be there, forever smirking knowingly. It was enough o make her blood go cold, the thoughts of him . . . and then she'd feel her flesh warm over and blush, her heart begin to flutter. Yes, it was better left forgotten, his face . . . And, it was better left forgotten, the place he reigned over. Still, there were good thoughts that came from the memories of the Labyrinth. She'd made great friends there, those of which she'd not called out to for a half a year at the time. But, how could she do that at college? She was usually in public, in class . . . and if she were in her dorm, Ronni was always around. How would she explain a hairy, horned monster as well as a talking fox and a dwarf to her roommate, or to anyone whom may have a glimpse of them? Sarah missed them all horribly, but . . . it just wasn't a good time to be inviting them into her current life. Maybe when she went home for spring break? Yes, she thought, that's a good idea. It will be so nice to be able to see them all again . . . Spring Break it is, then.

A movement from the side of the room caused her to leave her thoughts, and Sarah's eyes flashed in the direction of her roommate's bed. Ronni seemed as though she were asleep - though Sarah eye's could be fooling her, since her she hadn't adjusted to the lack of light.

"Ronni?" She called out, her voice in a low whisper. No reply. Sarah merely nodded her head, as though confirming a statement, then looked up at her ceiling. Soon enough, she was asleep once more - her dreams being images of home and the friends she would then be able to see. What she had not seen in the moments she'd been awake that night, was the red light glowing from the tiny opening of her desk drawer. She had put the crystal in there right before she had gone to bed, after she'd held it in her hands and studied it a bit, to see if there were any other familiarities about the crystal. So far, she'd found nothing.

But then, life was never fair, was it?

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The Underground ~

Jareth was getting annoyed at studying the insides of Sarah's desk, so he threw the crystal in the air, watching as it vanished. He let out a huff of air, the old impatience coming back into him. Had it ever actually left? A small laugh made it's way from his lips, and he leaned back into his throne. Playing for a moment with the pendant of his necklace, he began to think on how to move this plan along. Should I send Mordred now, or give Saffron another few days? How will she explain knowing him? His eyes darted around the throne room, making him regret that action in a second. Goblins were droll and disgusting. Yet, they were born from his magic, and they were his curse. It seemed every fae had a curse to live with in their very long lives . . . that had to be from the sprites' vindictive natures. But then, better a fae then a sprite, so the saying went . . . that vindictive nature caused the sprites their fall from power. And here, their off branching of faes had taken up the dropped reigns. Jareth's kind had been in power for a long while. . . with no rebellions from those who'd made themselves lesser. Still, it made him all the more wary. Perhaps he should be looking deeper into those dark little minds? After all, they complained less of their servitude than they had in years, and this new generation of the original bloodlines were being rather subservient. More so than their parents would have ever debased themselves too. His lip twitched at those implications, and he rose up from his throne. Walking to the nearest window, he turned his thoughts to Mordred . . . that one,his favorite as they called the youth . . . was a sadistic creature. Clever as well. And strong in magic, though Jareth knew he hid most of what he could do. Why hadn't he risen up against him yet? After all, a creature like that . . . Jareth narrowed his eyes at the thoughts, glad that he had some control over the youth. Mordred looked up to him, so he'd noted ever since the youth had come into the court. They'd made the Bog of Eternal Stench together, after all . . .

"My Lord?" A voice broke his thoughts, and Jareth turned around to be facing the very sprite he'd been thinking of. "You called for me to come to your presence, did you not?"

"Yes. I will have you wait for another two days before you join Saffron." Jareth prowled back to his throne, and then lounged in it as he watched the youth. He found himself studying Mordred's posture, his silver eyes. Nothing seemed amiss, and it gave him a bit of peace. Then, he continued his speech. "Sarah isn't ready for the both of you. After all, she's barely touched her crystal . . . I doubt that you pulling out the enchanted book on her will help much at the moment. The enchantment will only work if she is far into it, and awaking her strong suspicions will do our cause no good."

"Agreed." Mordred nodded. "Oh, by the way . . . I checked up on those friends of hers, as you told me to."

"And?"

"Their suspicions have been heightened a bit. Seems the goblins have been running their rot-tooth little mouths." Mordred's cold eyes slid in the directions of a few goblins nearby, some of which were shaking in their makeshift armor. "However, they are silenced for the time being. I have them in my hold, where they will be treated with some consideration as you asked."

"You've done well." Jareth nodded. He sat up in the throne and motioned for Mordred's departure. The sprite - whom Jareth now had pegged as being loyal and not a threat - bowed, and left until he'd be called again. That, of course, would be very soon. Turning his mind to other matters, Jareth's eyes surveyed the room, knowing well which of his goblins were guilty of the charge Mordred had placed upon them.

A cruel smile slipped 'cross the King's face . . .

and soon, the air was filled with screaming goblins.