Author's Note: Ah, here we are. For some reason, this chapter wasn't as easy to write even though I knew (approximately) what was to happen. To recap quickly, the last chapter left off in the middle of a scene between Jareth and Sarah, where she has confronted him in his private chambers. Sarah was (perhaps naively) surprised to find that Jareth's reasons for saving her were not entirely altruistic, and he is still the same arrogant Goblin King she remembers. Their reunion was not going smoothly. Then again, who expected that it would?

Thanks for the new comments. Ymir-chan, sorry about the confusion, but I think it sounds like you have a better handle on the plot than you think. Hope that helps.

I certainly would welcome more reviews, but I'm happy so far that people seem to be reading the story, even if they aren't commenting on it. And of course, you all recognized the reference. I did say it wasn't very subtle, but it seemed impossible to have a wardrobe without a mention of The Chronicles of Narnia.

Chapter Six: My Beloved Enemy

Stung, Sarah jerked back. "Is that what this is?"

"What else did you think it could be?" Jareth countered quickly. "Did you imagine me as some sort of white knight, riding to the rescue of a damsel in distress?" The Goblin King shook his head mockingly. "Really, Sarah. I thought you had grown up and left these childish fantasies behind."

Sarah flushed with anger. "I had. But the dreams I had of this godforsaken place wouldn't let me forget. It was you, wasn't it? You sent me those nightmares."

"I haven't the slightest idea of what you're talking about. I'm hardly in the habit of haunting young ladies' dreams." Jareth leaned against his desk once more, and his voice was like a velvet caress. "Unless, of course... they invite me."

The accompanying wicked smile was more than she could bear.

"Invite you!" she spat out. "Don't flatter yourself, Goblin King. I wouldn't be here in the Underground at all if Hoggle hadn't called me, and I certainly wouldn't have wanted to see you regardless."

"Then don't flatter your precious self, Sarah." Jareth sounded both amused and angry. "If I recall correctly, I offered you your dreams once and you rejected them. Your nightmares have nothing to do with me."

"You offered me nothing but illusions. That's all your magic can ever be, empty and unreal."

"Oh, truly? Then is this castle merely an illusion? Are your friends waiting downstairs for you the figments of imagination you thought them to be when you were safely Aboveground?"

They were not, Sarah had to admit ruefully. She still had a bruise on her shoulder from tumbling out of the bed in the star chamber, and she knew now that Hoggle and Sir Didymus were as real as she was. This fantasy was all too real. Jareth looked back at her, arms folded elegantly across his chest.

"Not that I blame you for wanting to forget. Who would want to be responsible for tearing apart a land the way you have?"

"Whatever you might think," Sarah said through gritted teeth. "I am not responsible for what happened here. I didn't even know of it until Hoggle and Sir Didymus told me, and I still don't understand it any more than anyone else does. If anyone's to blame, it's you, for letting this happen."

"Clever, clever girl." Jareth's reply was like a snarl, deep in his throat. "But I never said you did it knowingly. On the contrary, you are the most ignorant mortal visitor this realm has ever seen, and your lack of comprehension for what you have done is likely to be the death of the Labyrinth entirely."

Sarah seized the first object off the bookshelf closest to her and hurled it at the Goblin King, striking him on the shoulder. "And you, I hope. That would be no great loss to anyone!" She turned and stormed out of the room, the doors slamming shut behind her.

Jareth let out the pained breath he'd been holding and sagged against the desk, barely able to keep himself upright. Some things were merely illusion, and his fortitude was one of them. The wound in his side was like a ravening wolf, and it began to bleed again. He would have to change the bandages, and soon, but he did not know if he had the strength. Lying on the carpet beneath the desk was the object Sarah had thrown at him, and he stooped to retrieve it with great effort. It was a crystal... nothing more. Jareth laughed hoarsely, sinking to his knees on the floor before the fire. The blood was flowing freely now, soaking the side of his robe, and the room spun around him.

"Such a temper..." he whispered, though no one else could hear, "My beloved enemy..."

Sarah ran down the stairs, unheeding of the dangers of tripping and breaking her neck. With the sleeve of her pajamas, she swiped at the hot tears that stung her eyelids. No one would knew she cried, least of all the Goblin King, damn him. She regretted insisting on seeing him now, and didn't know why it had seemed so important only a short while ago. No, it was her dream, the dream of a wounded owl battered by the cold winter winds. She had been convinced it had something to do with Jareth, that there was something wrong, and yet... Why did she care?

She didn't, Sarah insisted fiercely to herself. But his accusation still stung, even more than it had coming from Sir Didymus. Jareth too, was convinced she had something to do with the Labyrinth's downfall. She didn't want to admit they could be right. When she reached the bottom of the stairs, her friends were waiting anxiously, relief written all over Hoggle's weathered face.

"You're back! And in one piece, I'm glad to see."

"Of course I am." Sarah replied dismissively. "I told you nothing would happen."

"Was your talk with His Majesty productive, my lady?" Sir Didymus asked.

"I wouldn't call it that exactly. But some things that needed settling have been settled." Mild understatement, Sarah thought to herself. I basically told the Goblin King I hoped he'd drop dead. You can't get much more settled than that.

Out loud to her friends, she said only, "Perhaps we should leave now. If my family wakes up on Christmas morning and I'm not there, they'll call the police."

Hoggle and Sir Didymus exchanged guilty glances.

"We were just discussing that." said Hoggle. "You see, the problem is... Well, I don't know how to take you back."

"But you brought me here!"

"I suppose I did," agreed Hoggle hastily, "But I still don't know how. I've never brought someone to the Underground before. Nobody has! Except Jareth, of course."

"Oh god, you have to be kidding me." groaned Sarah. "You are not telling me I'm stuck here. I forbid it."

"I'm afraid so, my lady. It's true. We have no way of sending you back." Sir Didymus shrugged ruefully. "Perhaps His Majesty can be prevailed upon to do you a small favor..."

Sarah winced. "Now might not be the best time to ask him."

"In the morning, then?"

"Er, yes." she smiled weakly. "In the morning."

Hoggle sighed resignedly. "Fine. You might as well retire to your room until tomorrow. Jareth may have saved you, but you're still in no shape to be running around."

"Here?" Sarah was aghast. "I can't possibly stay here."

"Thou hast done so already," pointed out Sir Didymus. "At the King's invitation... technically. One more night would make little difference."

"Hoggle?"

"Don't look at me. I wanted to leave earlier, but now it looks like we really are stuck."

"Fear not, friend Hoggle." said Sir Didymus grandly. "Goblins are a rambunctious lot, but they do not begrudge hospitality to a weary traveler. We will not lack for a place to sleep, and the lady can retire to her own rooms."

Sarah felt uneasy. The room was meant to be hers, that much was clear. She just didn't know if she liked what that implied.

Back in her chamber, Sarah bolted the door and set her back against it. Someone had been in the room in her absence. The bed was freshly aired, the candle stubs were gone and new candles burned brightly in their place. A fire had been kindled in the hearth, and next to it was a small table set with covered dishes. Who could have managed it on such notice, Sarah wondered. Hoggle, maybe? She began lifting covers off dishes and laughed. Grilled cheese sandwiches, tomato soup and a plate of chocolate chip cookies, her favorite comfort food while growing up. Definitely not Hoggle, then. Sarah wasn't even sure chocolate existed in the Underground. Her laughter stilled as she realized who must then be responsible. Why had he done this? And even worse, could it be another trick? Sarah's stomach growled, reminding her it had been a while since her stepmother's pot roast. Trick or not, she had to eat. Sarah shrugged and pulled up a chair, helping herself hungrily to everything on the table.

When she'd finished and found to her relief that nothing happened, she went to explore the rest of her room, which was larger than she realized. One alcove led to a round room, its walls lined with bookshelves and a writing table under the window. Many of the books Sarah loved best were there, plus some she'd never heard of. She ran her hand along the shelf and came to one titled The History of the Labyrinth, a huge leather-bound tome covered in dust. Here's a cure for insomnia if I ever saw one, Sarah thought. I may need it tonight, trying to sleep in this place. She tucked it under her arm and went to explore the bath chamber, which she'd seen earlier.

Thankfully, it wasn't nearly as medieval-looking as the rest of the castle. White stone gleamed everywhere, and a pot-bellied cast iron stove radiated heat from a corner of the room. A large, claw-footed tub was already full of hot water, and next to it was a pile of bath towels and a dainty pile of scented soaps. For a moment, Sarah didn't know what to think.

"Stop it right now." she said loudly. "Whoever's doing this... It's not that I don't appreciate what you're doing for me, but it's creepy as hell."

Only silence answered her, and the bath continued to steam invitingly. Sarah sighed. It had been a long day, and a hot bath with a boring book sounded temptingly normal, even if everything else wasn't.

Sinking in up to her chin, Sarah rested the book on the edge of the bath. Reading in the tub was a guilty pleasure, and she couldn't count the number of books she had at home with wrinkly pages from being accidentally dropped in the water. Well, she'd be more careful with this one, Sarah promised herself. Although I'm not sure who'd miss it if I did ruin it.

Half an hour later, the water was cooling and she was still glued to the page. The Labyrinth's history was more fascinating than she thought, a land of untamed magic and creatures even stranger than the ones she'd already met. Sarah could barely put it down long enough to towel herself dry and comb her wet hair, and she didn't even blink when she returned to the bed to find a white cotton nightgown laid out for her. A badly drawn map accompanied the text, and Sarah read the place names with great interest. the Wastelands, Echo Mountain, the great Merandanon river, Glimmerglass falls, Firethorn valley... She had seen only one small portion of the Labyrinth. How big is this place, anyway? Sarah wondered.

But the next part intrigued her even more.

Despite its size and diverse population, the kingdom of the Labyrinth has only ever had a single ruler. By some counts, King Jareth has ruled more than eleventy generations, marking the start of his reign in the year-of-the-mushy-peas. Neither goblin nor mortal-kind, the Goblin King's origins are a mystery. In her charming year-of-the-turnip publication, A Modeste Booyke of Goblyn Lore, renowned Goblin historian Minerva T. Pratswallop records the earliest sightings of the King...

Sarah slammed the book shut in frustration. "Goblin historians must be bad with numbers," she said aloud. "Everything is year-of-the-salty-ham or year-of-the-potato. It barely says anything about Jareth at all."

And why would you want to know anything about that, dear girl?

She could almost hear his playful tone in her head, and it made her want to scream. Their meeting had gone horribly, horribly wrong. Never in a million years could Sarah have anticipated throwing things at him and storming out, but to accuse her of destroying the Labyrinth and making Ludo ill was beyond the pale. Belatedly, she recalled Sir Didymus' similar assumption. Even her friend had thought her capable of bespelling the Labyrinth and its ruler to ruin, even by accident, Sarah thought sadly. She had laughed it off then, but to find that the Goblin King thought the same was another story altogether... But that just wasn't possible. She was plain old Sarah Williams, with no magical powers. Yes, she'd beaten the Goblin King's challenge and defeated him, but it was just words. Surely just words alone wouldn't destroy her friends' home... would it?

"I want everything to be the way it was." Sarah said the empty chamber. "I want Ludo to be well again, and the Labyrinth to be whole. I don't want any more of these nightmares. And I want to go home."

What's said is said.

Sarah thumped the book down, blew out the candle by the bed and huddled under the covers. But there was still a nagging feeling she couldn't shake, as if... someone needed her. But that didn't make any sense at all.

Comments/reviews welcome.