A/N: Well, the reordering of time didn't go quite as I planned, so the action won't really get going till the next chapter (although I have to confess I've always thought one of the marks of a good story is that it's smarter than its author, so I'm not displeased!). I'm not entirely happy with the dream sequence that starts this chapter, but I did want to update, as I'm going to be very very very busy for the next week or so. I'll probably end up tweaking this chapter a bit and then reposting it when the next update comes along. Thanks again to all my wonderful readers and reviewers, it is MUCH appreciated! -PC


She's staring up at an intricate, carved ceiling, which has the faintest sheen of silver. She stretches, yawning, finding herself lying on a deep, thick mattress and piles of satiny sheets. Her head rests on a mountain of soft, plushy pillows. This is heaven, or something close to it.

She rolls over to find herself an inch away from a pair of smiling, mismatched eyes, and yelps, scooting across the bed.

Jareth sits up. "Sarah, it's all right – it's me."

She's realized this even before the sentence is out of his mouth, and settles back, catching her breath. "You scared me!"

"I am sorry. I thought we might enjoy a change of scenery tonight…but perhaps I should have begun us in the ballroom, as you are used to."

"It's all right." She lifts herself on an elbow and looks around. The color scheme of the room is similar to her guest room, primarily blue and silver, but there are many more personal touches. "Is this…your room?"

"Indeed." The King shifts himself, propping up his torso against the mounds of pillows. "I thought you might like to see it."

"They put me in a room that looks a lot like this."

"Ah, yes. That would be the royal guest chamber; I put visiting family in that room. My mother is particularly fond of it. You will meet her tomorrow."

"Your…you have parents?"

The King looked at her like she'd grown a second head. "Of course I have parents. Do you not?"

She colored, avoiding his gaze. "Point."

"I confess I am not looking forward to being brought before my parents in chains, but I shall look on it as part of my penance."

She doesn't know what to say to that. Instead, she looks around the room some more. Jareth reaches over and touches her hand. "Sarah, I must apologize again. I should not be complaining to you; you will have far more to face tomorrow than I."

She swallows hard. "Don't remind me."

He smiles ruefully. "At least you'll have a good night's sleep tonight. That much I can do for you."

The silence grows heavy; they are both lost in their own thoughts. She plays with the bed sheet. "Jareth?"

"Hmmm?"

"What happens…after the Challenge?"

"Assuming you succeed, I will take back my throne, and proceed to make sure Hamel can never do this again." He smiles vengefully.

"Right. I got that part. I mean…well…would you…um…should I…" She gulps.

"Would I like you to stay?" he finishes. She nods rapidly, grateful that he found the words she couldn't.

Jareth takes his turn playing with the bed sheet. "I would like you to," he says quietly, "but I believe we have enough on our minds at the moment. Perhaps that is a subject better reserved for when all this is over."

The part of her that has been hoping for vows of unending devotion and the like is disappointed, but her more logical side knows that he is right. "You have a point, there."

Her disappointment must show on her face, for he speaks to her very gently. "Do not forget what I said first, Sarah. I would like you to stay."

She had forgetten, and smiles. "Right. Thanks for the reminder."

He reaches over and pulls her against him, her body sliding easily over the satin sheets. "So, what shall we do for the rest of the night?"

She raises an eyebrow. "It looks like you have a few ideas…"

"Perhaps." He presses a soft kiss against her lips, and nibbles her ear. "Have you ever made love in a dream before?"

"N-no…" She has trouble concentrating. "But…"

"But?" He's kissing her neck now, his voice muffled.

With a strength of will she was not previously aware of, Sarah sits up, away from Jareth's lips and hands. "Jareth, not this way."

"What?" He lies on the pillows, looking up at her incredulously. Her courage abruptly deserts her, and she is once again tongue-tied.

"I…I want it to be real," she fumbles. "I mean, call me crazy, or old-fashioned, or whatever, but …well, I'd just like it to be real, the first time. After that, in dreams is OK, but I want the first time to be us awake, with our real bodies."

He is slowly nodding as she muddles through her explanation. "You are right," he says, when she finishes. "As much as I want you, you are right."

She's a little stunned at his agreement. "I am?"

"Indeed. Beginning in a dream would be a poor beginning. Perhaps, once the Challenge is over, we can begin the right way."

Relieved, she rewards him with a long, soft kiss.


She woke to the calling of some far-off rooster; in the city, she guessed. The sun was just creeping up over the castle walls, bathing the courtyard in pink and gold light, as the rooster continued to crow. Morning.

Rising, Sarah dressed in her Aboveground clothes, and a pair of thick, heavy boots from the closet. She tied the black leather pouch to her belt, and slung her sword belt over her shoulder – Jareth had crafted it to be worn on her back. Her necklace of invisibility she stuffed into a pocket, to be ready when it was needed, and pulled her backpack on over the sword.

She took a look at herself in the full-length mirror. Well, I'm as ready as I'm ever going to be.

Breakfast was laid out in the small dining room, but the hall itself was empty. Sarah loaded a plate for herself, waving off the servants, and sat down to eat. Her stomach was fluttering nervously, but she forced herself to keep chewing and swallowing – she knew she would need her energy.

As she picked at the food, her thoughts turned back to the last two days. She had eaten her meals with Jareth, and between them she had walked the outer gardens of the Labyrinth; sometimes alone, sometimes with her friends. Jareth had been busy crafting his last two gifts to her, and she hadn't wanted to disturb him. During their meals, they had talked more about what she might encounter in the Labyrinth, and the best ways to deal with some of those things.

They had also exchanged more than a few kisses, most of them still relatively shy. His…invitation…to her in the dream had come as something of a surprise, but… I certainly can't deny that I want the man! In dreams or not!

She stood by what she'd said to him though; reality was a much better plan. And wandering around the brand-new Labyrinth in a daze of afterglow is not exactly what I need right now.

Sighing, she faced that fact that her breakfast was about as done as it was going to her, and stood up, pushing the plate away.

She approached one of the guards at the entrance to the hall. "Do you know where I should go now?"

"The courtyard, my lady," he replied. "Follow me."


With how empty the castle was, Sarah was shocked at the spectacle that awaited her. A huge throng of people milled in the castle courtyard, moving around tables laid with a huge assortment of dishes. They nibbled from small crystal plates, drank from tall glasses, and were all gaily dressed. She felt very out of place in her comfortable jeans and T-shirt.

She looked beyond the crowd, to the Labyrinth's entrance. A long straight path was bordered with flaming torches, and the path led directly into the Labyrinth, ending in a T-shaped divide. Flowers were scattered over the hard-packed dust of the path.

Suddenly, Hamel was at her elbow. True to his word, she hadn't seen him in the past three days.

She hadn't missed him.

"Ah-ha, the Champion is awake!" He bowed to her. "And how are you feeling this morning, my dear?"

"Fine, thank you."

"Excellent." He rubbed his hands together. "We want you feeling your very best today, of course."

She gestured to the crowd. "Where did they all come from?"

"Most journeyed from their own lands early this morning." He smiled nastily. "This is something that no one wanted to miss."

He clapped his hands together loudly, and the throng began to move towards a large silver cauldron that had been set up at the center of the courtyard.

"What are they doing?"

"Choosing lots," Hamel answered. "There are enough stones for every one of my guests; three are black, and the rest are white. The three who draw black stones will judge the Challenge." He gestured to a row of three carved wooden chairs, draped in swags of fabric and gilded. Before the chairs was a small table. "You might as well wait there, they will be speaking to you right away."

Three of the guests were walking up the stairs, and Sarah took the time to observe them. One was an older lady, her silver hair caught up in an elaborate arrangement of braids and curls that made Sarah's head hurt just looking at it. The second was a man who looked about the age of Jareth and Hamel; his hair was dark brown, and he was dressed in loose, flowing clothing of mottled browns, greens, and greys.

The third judge looked like an older version of Jareth. This has to be his father…has to be. How is that going to work?

The judges seated themselves at the table, and Hamel clapped his hands again. "Honored guests!" he announced. The crowd turned as one to look at him.

"I'd like to thank you all for coming today. At this time, let me introduce to you our judges for this most important event.

"Anaath, our most honored great-aunt, former ruler of the Sea Folk." The silver-haired woman rose and bowed, then re-seated herself.

"Caledon, our cousin, heir to the rulership of the Tree Spirits." Caledon was the dark-haired man, who also rose and bowed.

"And finally, our uncle, Sindreth, formerly the Goblin King, who also happens to be our cousin Jareth's father."

I was right – that is Jareth's father. They look enough alike to be brothers. And he doesn't look very happy right now…

"Please, continue to enjoy yourselves – the Challenge will begin shortly," Hamel finished.

The judges turned their attention to Sarah, who was still standing before the table. "Is this the Champion?" asked Anaath, the older woman.

"Indeed it is, Aunt," Hamel answered, as he stepped up to the table. She fixed him with a glare.

"We shall not be needing you for the moment, Hamel," she informed him. "See to your guests, and we shall tell you when you may strut yourself about again."

Sarah amused herself for a moment by imagining Anaath calling Hamel a "whippersnapper". It wasn't a difficult image to summon.

Hamel, displeased and showing it, moved off, and Anaath settled herself back in her seat. "So, Champion – do you have a name?"

"Sarah," she said, bowing, and added uncertainly, "my lady."

"Well," she sniffed. "At least my nephew had the sense to pick someone polite. Not that that's likely to do you any good. Have you been explained the rules of the Challenge, child?"

"Yes ma'am," she nodded.

"You will have thirteen hours to solve the Labyrinth. Time will be kept here, although I recommend you attempt to keep track as well." She sniffed again. "Sindreth, if you would?"

Jareth's father made a gesture, and the clock that Sarah remembered so well appeared in midair, behind the judges' table.

"Sindreth is Jareth's father, as you may have hear that little popinjay explaining. Therefore he will be managing the magic needed, as he is already most familiar with it."

"We will need to examine the gifts that Jareth gave you, and anything else you wish to take with you into the Labyrinth," Caledon interjected. His voice was like water tumbling over smooth rocks, and it instantly had a calming effect on Sarah.

She unslung her backpack, and emptied out the contents on the table. While the judges were looking at the twine, marker, and other oddments, she put down the pouch, sword, and necklace.

The three judges nodded to one another. "All of these are acceptable to us," Anaath said, indicating the items from Sarah's backpack; she seemed to have appointed herself the head judge. While Sarah reloaded her backpack, they began examining Jareth's gifts.

This process took longer. In particular, Sindreth seemed intrigued with the sword, running his hand up and down the blade and muttering words. When Anaath and Caledon were finished with the pouch and the necklace, Anaath looked at him inquiringly.

"Sindreth? Is the sword acceptable?"

"It is well-crafted, to be sure," he murmured. "My son has evidently learned a few things in his time as King. Yes," he said, louder, "the sword is permissible."

"Very well," Anaath announced. "You have nothing else, child, that we would need to see?" Sarah shook her head.

"As you will, then. Nephew!"

Hamel reappeared at the table. "Aunt?"

"We have examined all of the Champion's items and found them allowable under the rules of the Challenge. You may resume your display."

Hamel gritted his teeth and bowed. "Thank you, Aunt."

Hamel stepped to the center of the landing, and clapped his hands once more. "Honored guests! May I present to you my recently deposed cousin, Jareth, the Goblin King!"

Sarah caught her breath as Jareth was led out. He was dressed finely, in dark blue and black, and his hair was carefully combed. He looked magnificent and defiant.

Destroying the defiant image, though, were the heavy shackles that encircled each wrist. The chain between them looked to be about a foot long, allowing for small movement but not much else.

He stood, proud, as Hamel blathered on about taking the throne by right of conquest and some other such nonsense. At the judges table, Anaath looked annoyed, Caledon looked bored, and Sindreth, Jareth's father, looked like he'd eaten something bad for breakfast.

Sarah, for her part, had made eye contact with Jareth and couldn't look away. He seemed to be sending her strength and courage through his eyes. And I need every scrap of it.

Finally Hamel finished his drone, and Jareth was led to another chair, this one with iron rings set in the arms. His shackles were quickly chained to these rings, pinning him to the chair.

"Sarah, Champion of Jareth," Hamel boomed, "you may receive the good will of your King."

Sarah crossed the landing to kneel at Jareth's feet. This is certainly the way it's done, all right.

She looked up at him, and spoke the only words that would come to her lips. "I won't fail you."

He smiled, and inclined his head. "I know you will not."

With that brief exchange, she stood. "I'm ready to go."

Hamel smirked in her and Jareth's general direction for a moment; perhaps he was aiming at both of them. "Then let the Challenge begin."

Sindreth stood from behind the judges' table. A crystal was at his fingertips, and he threw it into the center of the courtyard. In mid-flight, the crystal stopped, and began growing, to become a huge crystal ball on a silver pedestal.

"This will allow the assembly to view the Challenge as it takes place," Anaath intoned. "Time shall begin when the Champion enters the Labyrinth. Fare you well."

Knowing she would be watched the entire time took away some of Sarah's courage. Nevertheless, she shifted her backpack on her shoulders, and, with a final look at Jareth, clattered down the steps and onto the packed dirt road that led into the Labyrinth. In what seemed like no time at all, the path ended, and in front of her was the first choice. Would I go left, or right?

She took the fork to the right, and as her boot touched the cobblestone floor of the Labyrinth proper, she heard a great gonging sound behind her. Anaath's voice carried from the courtyard.

"The Challenge has begun!"