Ok...I am back... and so are the gypsies! Oh yes... gypsies rock... You know what I'm talking about, you like it too!... and so does Vic Mignoigna (cant for the life of me spell his last name) ! BACK OFF RIZA, HE'S MINE! all fma fans will know what I am talking about and what I am rabling about that has nothing to do with the chapter following. So. Here is your chapter. My chapter, actually, but what the hell, I am pronoun confused.

Chapter 7

The Gypsy Haven

They met for supper. Dakota spent half an hour trying to find the Great Room, and then fifteen more minutes trying to find the table in the Great Room, only for Jareth to appear out of nowhere and tell her that this was the Great Hall, used for balls and such and whisk her to the other side of the castle.

Dinner passed uneventfully.

Jareth led her up to her room and bid her good night.

Dakota slept soundly and dreamlessly.

It was still dark, and Dakota was dead to the world when her door flew open. Dakota fell out of her bed in surprise. It was just Jareth. "Don't do that!" she yawned.

"Sorry to disturb the precious lady, but I need to leave."

"Don't you mean we need to leave?"

"What?"

"You burst in here sayin you need ta leave, and ya don't take me with you? Is that anyway for a gentleman to treat a lady?"

"No, but as you aren't a lady, I don't need to worry about that now do I?"

"You're sarcasm surprises even me, m'lord."

They glared at each other for a moment. Then, as Dakota had intended,

"Fine, we must leave immediately."

"Right."

She pulled on her boots and followed him out the door. He led her out of the castle and to a waiting carriage. "Oh, the High Lord wants a carriage, eh?" He nodded and helped her in. She trembled slightly at the feel of his warm calloused hand, but the feeling soon passed.

Five minutes of silence later, Dakota grew bored. Short attention span and all…. She sang under her breath, "Red, the blood of angry goats, black the goat that ends at last…Dah duh dom de dead a daow, deem da I don't know the words…" Jareth rolled his eyes and stared out the window. Finally, she forsake that tune for, "Always look on the bright side of life, always look on the right side of life, when life seems jolly rotten, there's something you've forgotten and that's to laugh and smile and dance and sing." She mumbled for a while then stopped. Five minutes later, she started yet another.

"When the sun goes down (when the sun goes down)
And the bats are back to bed (and the bats are back)
The brothers come 'round (the brothers come 'round)
I get out of my dirty bed (my dirty bed)
I shake my pretty little head (I shake my pretty little head)
Tap my pretty little feet (tap my pretty little feet)
Feeling brighter than sunlight (oh)
Louder than thunder (oh)
Bouncing like a yo-yo, wooh (oh)

Don't got no problems (no problems)
Ain't got no suitcase (no suitcase)
Ain't got no clothes to worry about (no clothes to worry about)
Ain't got no real estate or jewelry or gold mines to hang me up.

I just throw in my hand (throw in my hand)
With the chilliest bunch in the land (in the land)
They don't look much (oh)
They sure chilly chilly (oh)
They positively glow glow, huh (oh)

Chilly down with the fire gang
Think small with the fire gang (It's the only way)
Bad hep with the fire gang (a smile a day keeps the doctor away)
When your thing gets wild
Chilly down!" Jareth whipped his head around. "Chilly down?" Dakota nodded. "Let me guess, these red furry creatures appeared in a dream and sang?"

"No."

"Did Sarah teach it to you?"

"No, it's in the book; I just haven't memorized all the words yet."

"Ahh."

The rest of the twenty minute trip passed in silence. They went to the edge of the Labyrinth. "We aren't going in there are we?"

"Of course."

"But…it's in the book, people never survive the Labyrinth!"

"Yeah, but none of those people were following the Goblin King."

"Am I sure this isn't another freakin test?"

"No, you aren't, but it isn't."

"I still don't trust you." Dakota glowered. He smirked again and held her pointy chin in his warm hand. She shuddered and pulled away. He smirked once more. "I still don't trust you, you realize?" she said. He nodded and said "Good."

He started towards the entrance. Dakota looked around for mad axe men in hockey masks to suddenly appear, but nothing happened. She sighed and started to follow Jareth.

"Some Labyrinth! It's just one long hallway!" Dakota screeched. Jareth turned around. "Choose a way." Dakota looked as far down one path and then the other.

"Two paths diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both, and be one traveler,

Long I stood, and stared down one path far as I could,

To where it bent in the undergrowth.

Then took the other as just is far,

And having perhaps the better claim

For it was grassy and wanted wear,

Though has for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same.

So I saved the other for another day,

Though knowing how way leads on to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh,

Somewhere ages and ages since,

Two woods diverge in a wood, And I-

I took the one less traveled,

And that has made all the difference."

"What was that?"

"A poem. That way," she directed, pointing to the left.

"Why that way?" Jareth asked. "Well, why not? It seemed just as good as the other." He put a hand on her shoulder, and once again her heart soared and dropped. He took it off, saying, "Good choice." And continued to walk. She followed yet again, and tried to control her fluttering heart. She walked as if in a trance, not paying any attention to anything. Jareth suddenly stopped and she walked smack into his back. He didn't turn around. She walked to beside him and looked at the wall. On it was written, "You make it far, stranger. Though it will continue to get stranger from here on. You still think this is your stop? Ha. But then, Welcome.

The Gypsy Haven is open to all in need of help or rest.

Rest and sleep.

Prepare for the morrow.

Don't make a peep,

Save your things that we may borrow…

Just plan a surprise,

You may not see this lovely place again…"

"What was that?" Dakota asked. "A poem. A bad poem, but a poem. They are trying to scare off people; the Gypsies don't like to be disturbed." Jareth smirked again. Man that was getting annoying; didn't the guy ever just smile?

Jareth-the-man-who-refuses-to-smile-properly traced a symbol onto what appeared to be a door, which suddenly disappeared. Dakota jumped back about a foot, and then curiosity got the better of her, and she peaked in. What she saw made her jaw drop, which Jareth kindly replaced for her, without so much as a tremor of her heart.

The shiny green leaves let shafts of a soft yellow light in, illuminating the springy jade grass. Occasionally, red and white flowers dotted the meadow in clumps. A dirt path edged with stones led to an encampment of red caravans. Pushing her out of the dusty maze, Jareth stepped in as well. On seeing Jareth, several gypsy children, ranging from three to twelve ran up to him. He smiled, yes smiled a proper happy smile, and hugged them all in a big bear hug. They laughed. Dakota decided to lurk in the background, not even being of this world, so…not quite comfortable for people who etched a bad elegy to scare her off. There was a handy tree she sat in the shade of and relaxed while watching Jareth play with the children, seemingly to have forgotten her. However, he looked up at her and motioned her over. He sent the children back to their parents. "Did you read my mind again?" she asked. "Whatever gave you that idea, m'dear?" She shrugged. He led her to the adult gypsies. Immediately the females gathered around her.

"Oh, look how thin!" one said, poking her side. "And so pale!"

"But quite a wonderful gypsy's dress did you make it yourself?"

"Of course she did! What self respecting gypsy woman wouldn't!"

"Is her hair purple?"

"Maybe she is a fey?"

"Unlikely, look at her hands! Too large. And calloused!"

"Good, she can do work."

"Well we aren't keeping her!"

"Who says we aren't!"

"Yes, why would Jareth bring her otherwise?"

"I say you aren't keeping her, Kirma. And I brought her because I wanted to talk to you and she insisted on coming as well Mirandari." Jareth had suddenly appeared beside her.

"Oh, gone and got hitched, eh Jareth? Haven to do whatever the Missus says?" a middle aged man with a large black beard came over. Dakota glared and said, "Is that your beard, or are you eating a muskrat while you talk to us? That's very rude, you know."

"Rude, Mrs. Jareth? Talk about rude yourself!"

"Oh, whatever. Go get a haircut, you look like a chrysanthemum. And I am not Mrs. Jareth!" she yelled after him as he went off indignantly. The women tittered again.

"How rude!"

"I quite agree!"

"What has Jareth gotten himself into now?"

"And with such a pretty girl!"

"Pretty? She is skin, bones and scowl!"

"So? So is he!"

"Nay, he's got some muscles on him that one has."

"And he does smile!"

"Though only to the children."

"What has that got to do with anything?"

"Just a point of interest, dear."

Finally, Dakota got bored and wandered off towards a young man sipping at some ale. "Hello, miss. If ya aint Missus Jareth, then who are you?"

"Miss Dakota Rizka Ursula Naomi Kismet, dear sir," she said, bowing deeply. "They also call me Freak or Drunk or Fate or completely over dramatic." The young man laughed. "I like Rizka. I think I shall call you Rizka," he said. She smiled. "Yeah…my mom wanted me to be Rizka, my father wanted Dakota, after his sister who had recently died in a car- a carriage accident, they both liked Naomi, but not as a first name and Ursula had for some reason been a family middle name on my dad's side, therefore, Dakota Rizka Ursula Naomi Kismet was born. I haven't been called anything other than Freak or Drunk or Fate or completely over dramatic since…ages." She laughed again. Jareth came over. "Dakota, can we talk? With the Gypsy King?" Confused, she nodded. She followed Jareth to a large red and deep gold caravan. Entering, Dakota blinked several times. It was a lot darker in there than it was outside in the grove! She tripped over a chair in her attempt to walk farther in, but was caught by a familiar strong hand. She smiled gratefully up at Jareth, who set her back on her feet and lit a nearby lamp. The caravan was bathed in light. It was crowded, but hard to tell what with, exactly. There were chairs and a table and lamps and a bed and teacups and papers and pens and books and a violin and a viola and a guitar (to Dakota's extreme delight) and paintings and hangings and weavings and…lots of stuff. But she didn't see the Gypsy King. "Do you think he would mind if I held his guitar, Jareth?"

"Oh, undoubtedly." Jareth did not however, say this. An unfamiliar voice, a deep gravely voice did. Dakota blushed. "Sorry…I just like guitars," she muttered. "Oh, if you must!" the voice came again. Her face lit up. "Thank you!" she said out loud, but to herself said, Thank you so much disembodied voice from nowhere! "And I am not disembodied!" the voice said. The voice came from a tall portly man who apparently had come from nowhere. He wore a red vest over white poet's shirt and black pants with a deep green handkerchief around his thick wavy blonde hair. "Can everyone read my mind?" Dakota fumed. Jareth said, "Only the people who want to see into your little demented mind."

"H-I am not going to say that!" she muttered. "Don't say that! Break the habit! Don't say it!..." seemingly to herself. The Gypsy King strode over to his guitar and handed it to Dakota, who smiled and sat down and played quietly. Paying no attention to anyone or anything, she focused on the soft quiet and melodious sound the guitar made. "Fetche le vache!" she murmured. (A/N: Fetche le vache means fetch the cow. shrugs)

"We can't. I told you, the gypsies will have nothing to do with this war."

"But!"

"No Jareth!"

"Look, I am Goblin King, and these are my people I am sending out to die to my kinsmen. That is very much like you sending the gypsies against the fays and you remember what happens then!"

"No."

"Pavlino,-"

"We need help!" a new voice broke in, unexpectedly it was Dakota. Not noticing the bemused look she was getting from Jareth, she continued. "So far it is me and him, two people against two thousand angry elves and goblins. And he's in a tight spot. He's an elf controlling goblins. He will either be outcasted from Elfish society or will lose the throne, thus careening the entire country into complete disaster if the goblins roam free and unleadered. That will affect you, your wives, husbands, children being subjected to pointless sacrifice to the goblins. Out of Elfish society, he will not be able to send an ambassador, thereby not only damaging the allies list in case of other attack, but leading to a depletion of imports and exports on both counts. Without the imports and/or exports, you will not be able to take things, such as that elfish earring in your ear without a long fruitless trip for a bit of shine. The lack of sales results in lack of money being made, thereby sends both nations into economical disaster. If they go through with this war the entire world with be catapulted into a vortex where nothing makes any sense. There was never a good war or a bad peace."

The Kings stared at her, still baffled. "In small words so you will both understand, 'you don't help us, we die a really bad death and you become subjected to a torturous living under rule of evil bloodthirsty goblins.'"

"They aren't bloodthirsty!" Jareth defended. Dakota shrugged. "Exaggerated, but it seems to have the point across." The Gypsy King was nodding vigorously. "We help!" Dakota smirked at Jareth. "Rizka-"

"How did you know that was my first middle name?"

"First?" asked Jareth.

"Dakota Rizka Ursula Naomi Kismet."

"Oh…"

"I think you are Rizka because in our language, Rizka means 'one who brings painful light'. Naomi is also used by gypsies, because of the original name Nomai. You are Nomai, 'one who leads with fiery sword and spear'!"

They left soon after, with the two kings discussing something totally unrelated and Dakota having to return his guitar.

"So, Nomai," Jareth said. She looked up at him. "Ready for war?" She smirked and nodded.

They returned to the castle and went their separate ways, Jareth to his library and Dakota to the perch outside her window. She fell asleep leaning on the railing.