Author's Note: The characters of Jareth, Sarah, Toby, Hoggle, Ludo, Didymus, etc. belong to the wonderful Jim Henson company, and I claim no rights to them. The goblins are another story, but any resemblance to any real goblins, living or (while improbable) dead, is purely coincidental and unintentional... except for Shove, because he wouldn't leave me alone until I put him in the story.

The room was dressed in filmy white, and huge white chandeliers dripped from the ceiling. Silk and satin, taffeta and lace, brocade and leather twirled around her dizzily. She was looking for something. Her brother, she thought, but no, he was home safe with her father. Where was she? All around her masks both beautiful and grotesque turned her way, winking and laughing. Sarah spun, looking behind her, still unsure exactly what she sought. She felt she'd been here before, when she was younger, and then it had been strange and beautiful, but frightening. Now it was merely beautiful and strange, but where before she'd felt out of place, now she felt only annoyed. She knew it was here, whatever it was she had lost, and these people were trying to keep her from it. She pushed through a cluster of them, noticing that they were all lithe and beautiful and decadent. If she looked closely, she suspected she'd find that in the corners more than a few of them were engaged in even more risqué pursuits. It was all she could do to keep from screaming. Around her the dancers spun, turning to look at her scornfully. She caught snatches of whispered conversations: "...thinks he's doing...," "...forever, hah," "...innocent? doubtful...," "...kingdom, what kingdom?..."

A flash of sapphire blue caught her eye and she turned again. Whatever it was was gone. Frustrated, she pushed past the dancers and climbed the stairs. A feathered fan fluttered beside her, and she smelled cedar and spices and something wild, dark, and untamed. Again she spun toward it to find nothing but more masks, more dancers. She went back down the stairs, and a gloved hand reached out and touched her hair as she passed, she turned just in time to see a sapphire blue coat and a wisp of long silver blonde hair vanish in the other direction. Again she tried to climb only to be stopped by a group of revelers who were busy playing a game with mirrors. One of them turned a mirror toward her and she paused, surprised by her reflection.

She was beautiful, a woman-child, tall and slender, in a fairy-tale gown of white and gold and silver. Her hair was an elaborate construction of curls and silver leaves and cobwebs, with jewels winking out of the dark strands. The mirror turned away, catching another glimpse of blue before it did that sent her spinning again...

Sarah woke up dizzy and frustrated, the owl feather clutched in her fist. She did her best to smooth it out, and left it under her pillow before she got out of bed to get ready for class.

For the next few days, she kept an eye open for the owl. When she finally did find it, it wasn't in a tree, it was in a book. She'd been delving through the university library's mythology section for a couple of years now, and she still hadn't read everything. There was so much folklore to dredge through, but she had found a knack for picking up the truths from the exaggerations or the "fairy tales." Accounts of goblins were the easiest for her to find truth in, but for some reason, todayshe'd picked up a book on the fae. Fae she'd discovered, were the royalty of the faery world. Some were well known, such as the powerful Seelie king Oberon and his queen, Titania. There were darker fae, the unseelie, or dark sidhe: like the Morrigan, who preyed on battlefields. And there were some that fell into neither the Light or the Dark... and it was here that she found him. It wasn't much, just a side note to another story, of a Fae Lord who, due to his dual nature, both light and dark, was given the kingdom of the goblins to rule, for goblins were neither light, nor dark, but held elements of both. They were chaotic and mischievous and had needed a ruler with a similarly mercurial nature, to keep them in balance. In the story it was unclear if he had been punished or rewarded with his role, but it was clear that he was something of an enigma. There was a sketch in the book, which was what had first caught her eye, of a tall pale man with wild hair and exaggerated fangs, dressed like a vampire with a high collar and flowing black cloak. There was only a passing resemblance, and she might have missed it, were it not for the owl depicted on the barren black tree behind him, and the round clear crystal he held in one gloved hand.

"Jareth," she whispered, using his name for the first time, and ran a finger over the drawing.

A book fell off a nearby shelf and she looked up quickly, in time to see a small, grotesque little face with beady black eyes peering from between the books at her.

"You want King, Lady?" It said, its ears perked up. "I get him, if you want."

"Oh, no," she said, startled. "I... was just thinking. I don't want to disturb him."

"Not disturb," said the goblin, sticking a crooked finger in its ear and fishing about for a moment, before pulling it out and licking it experimentally. "He just sittin' on the throne, grouchin' all the time and starin' at bubbles. He don't even sing for us no more."

"He sings?"

"When he bored. Now he just stare at bubbles. Stupid bubbles. Wanna taste?" It offered her its finger.

"No thanks," she said politely. The goblin shrugged and sucked on its finger a little more. "Is he... angry, at me, do you think?" The little goblin grinned, showing her several sharp teeth, and pushed a second book off the shelf.

"Not angry," it said, and knocked over a third. "Sad, a little, maybe." Sarah picked up the books that had fallen and put them on her table. Then she looked around quickly to see if anyone was watching. The library, as usual was deserted this time of day, so she put out her hand and let the little goblin climb into it. He was a tiny thing, not much bigger than her hand, and he wrapped his own tiny fingers around her thumb and held on as she put him carefully down on her table. He immediately set about pushing her pencils off the table, one by one.

"I can't imagine him sad," she said.

"Mopey. Grouchin'. Ooff," it said as it tripped over the edge of the book. It looked down at the picture and suddenly burst into a wild cackle of laughter, dancing about and pointing and clutching it's stomach as it howled with mirth. Sarah waited until the worst of it had died down, and watched with amusement as the little goblin wiped tears from his eyes, still snickering. "Gotta show him this. Make him laugh," it said and started to tear the picture out. Sarah put her hand down on top of it.

"Wait here," she said and picked up the book. She came back a few minutes later with a small photocopy of the picture. The little goblin studied it critically, compared it to the original for a moment, then carefully chewed around the edges of it until they were ragged and a little wet with goblin saliva.

"No good unless broken," he told her seriously, regarding his work. He hadn't chewed the picture itself. He looked pleased. "King gonna love this."

"Give him my regards," Sarah said. The little goblin eyed her curiously for a moment, then nodded.

"I do that, Lady." It patted her hand gently, as though it were comforting her. "It be all right," it said cryptically, "just wait. You see." And then it disappeared.

That night, she pushed through the crowd of revelers in time to catch a glimpse of a straight back clothed in a glittering blue coat as it waltzed away from her, and her stomach gave a strange little lurch at the idea that someone else was dancing with him.

"Where've you been?" Mary asked her curiously a few days later. "I found a guy that I think you might like. I've been trying to bring him around when you're here, but, well, you're never here and frankly, I'm an accident waiting to happen lately, whenever I'm in here." She shot a dark glance at the window. "Do you know I've stubbed my toe exactly thirteen times in the last three days, and always on the same book? What the hell? I keep picking it up and putting it back on the shelf and then I turn around and there it is, right back in the middle of the floor. I'm going to get Joe to make sure this damn shelf is level."

"Hmm?" Sarah said, absently, still absorbed in her book. She'd found a reference to a "goblin king" in a book of Irish folk tales and was still skimming through the section, looking for anything that might ring true to her.

"You're not even listening to me," Mary complained. "Earth to Sarah!"

"I'm listening," she said, blinking a bit owlishly herself.

"I'm telling you that I found you a guy."

"A guy?" She frowned.

"You know, the male of our species? Tall, dark, handsome, equipped with broad shoulders and dangly bits?"

Sarah blushed. Mary laughed. "God, girl, do you want to die a virgin? I'm calling him right now to come over, before you bury your nose back in that book again. What the hell are you reading about anyway?" She picked up the book and studied a rather lurid illustration of a fair haired Fae Lord, dressed in black, whispering nightmares into the ears of a sleeping maiden (Sarah had already made her destructive little goblin friend a copy, thinking that he might find it funny as well). "You really need to get laid, Sarah," Mary told her, closing the book and putting it up on the shelf. "Come on, put on some makeup and do something with all that hair, you're going out tonight with a real, live, human male." Sarah only sighed, she finally felt she was getting somewhere. Mary turned to pick up the phone and promptly stubbed her toe on the Irish folktales book which was now lying in the middle of the floor. "DAMN it!" she said, as she hobbled to the phone, and Sarah saw her little friend peek out from under Mary's bed and wink at her.

True to her word, the guy Mary produced was indeed tall, dark, and handsome, with broad shoulders (although Sarah couldn't have been less interested in his dangly bits, even if he'd pulled them out to prove Mary's veracity). His name was Brad, and he was a med student, in his senior year, preparing to go off to grad school. He was smart, and charming, and funny, and he took Sarah out to dinner at the nicest restaurant she could ever remember going to, and Sarah found that he didn't interest her one bit. He was just so... bland. At the end of the evening, he walked her to her door (where Mary had left her a note to tell her that she was at Joe's and wouldn't be home till the next afternoon and to get on with it already), and waited awkwardly as she unlocked it. Then he leaned down and kissed her.

Sarah had been kissed before, a few times. She knew enough about it to know that she in general approved of kissing, and that so far she hadn't met anyone who could really blow her away with a kiss. Brad was pretty far down on the scale, as far as kissers went, but he was warm and tasted a little bit like wine, and he didn't give her much choice in the matter. So she let him wrap his arms around her and kiss her again, a little harder, his lips a bit mushy against hers, and then she tried to back away. He refused to let go. He was staring at her oddly, his eyes very dark and unfocused, and he kissed her again, quickly, pushing her up against the door and bruising her lips. "You're so beautiful," he murmured against her mouth, and then he must have opened the door, because she suddenly stumbled backwards into her room, and then he had shut the door again and was kissing her and pushing her toward the bed.

She brought both hands up and pushed at his chest, but he was both bigger than she was, and stronger, and so far gone that he probably didn't even register it.

"Stop it," she said, when he finally released her mouth, but he only laughed and kissed her jaw and then her ear. "Stop it," she said again, and "Get off me." But he ignored her and pushed her down until she was on the bed and he was looming over her. She opened her mouth to scream, but it never came, because the window was suddenly open, and someone else was in the room. Brad was hauled off of her so quickly that he dropped her, and she hit her head on the headboard as she came down. She sensed, more than saw, Brad cowering on the floor and crawling for the door, and the room felt dark with thick, angry emotions that she wasn't sure were entirely hers. The door opened and Brad left, and Sarah heard every one of the goblins that lived in her dorm running, screaming after him down the hall, shouting goblin obscenities and hurling themselves at
his feet. Then a pair of strong arms was lifting her up, and tucking her into bed, and soothing the bump on her head until it didn't hurt anymore. Sleepily, she tried to see who it was, but the room was very dark, and all she caught was the glitter of eyes and the soft glow of light where it caught in his hair. She snuggled down under her blankets, and reached out one hand to touch the one that was caressing her hair. It was wearing a leather glove. She frowned at that, sleepy and confused, but she tangled her fingers with his never the less, and murmured "Thank you."

Just before she dropped off to sleep she thought she felt a gloved finger brush over her bruised lips, soothing them as well, sending a shiver down her spine.