Jareth sprawled on his back over the covers of his stately bed. His hair splayed against his feather pillow, shirt falling open. With a snap of his fingers, his boots and stockings appeared on the cold wooden floor, a problem for whatever goblin saw to his room in the morning.

Time passed without notice as he replayed his victory in his mind. The starlit darkness that cloaked the world disappeared. Light crept over the windowsill as the sun rose on the horizon casting his bedroom in the pale pinks and golds of early morning.

He raised his hand, staring at the thin red line that graced his pale palm. Even hours later, adrenaline coursed through his body. He'd lain in bed basking in his victory. Replaying the moment he had touched her, held her hand in his. Their eyes meeting for one fleeting moment before she disappeared.

Tonight had been a revelation. Seeing her after all these years, although briefly, had only stoked the embers of his resolve. He wanted her more than ever. How beautiful she was even in fear.

The greens and golds of her widened eyes were vibrant, her parted lips pink and full. Her long hair wild after being snared by the greenery of her own making. She looked every bit the part of forest nymph or garden fairy. Time had been good to her and fate seemed to finally be turning in his favor.

His fingertip trailed along the scar he now shared with Sarah. Savoring their connection. He felt it stronger. He would be able to teleport directly to her now. The Labyrinth no longer able to hide her from him. He was one step closer. But there were other ways to strengthen their bond until she was his body and soul. And the Labyrinth, through her, would be his once more.

Feelings of unease and confusion were twisting around his own elation. Poor sweet mortal. Naive to the ways of his world. She had to but ask and he would take all her vexations and perils away. Soon she would have nothing to fear and know only his devotion.

His hand rested briefly on his chest as he thought of her before trailing lower. What was his Sarah doing right now? Was she thinking of him? His fingers slipped under the waist of his breeches. He closed his eyes letting his mind drift into his own dreams of her laying next to him, under him. Dreams he hoped would soon be a reality.

The ugly red line that streaked her palm glared up at Sarah. Once again her mind buzzed with questions she had no answers for. Why didn't he kill her? What did it mean?

Rubbing her eyes, she tried to focus on the computer screen before her. The clicking of keyboards in other cubicles surrounded her, lulling her. She took a last sip of coffee before throwing the empty cup into the trash with the others.

She never fell back asleep last night. She wouldn't have been able to even if she had tried. She truly believed she had been an inch from death and instead, came away with nothing more than a self-healing wound. It didn't make sense.

Jareth had chased her for years. And for what? To scratch her palm and hold her hand? What sick joy did he get from this?

Seeing him again, hearing his voice say her name...no. She would not think of that.

Her palm twitched as emotions that were not her own set her cheeks ablaze. She tried to ignore the anticipation and building tension she felt. She would not give into it. Would not dwell on what it meant or who was involved. If she did, she would have recognized the souring feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Biting her lower lip as a wave of pleasure ghosted through her. She set her fingers on the keyboard. What she needed to do was focus on the tedious task of data entry. Anything to numb her brain as it split into too many thoughts and distractions.

Barely twenty minutes later, Sarah rested her head in her hands. Her temples throbbed. How had she gotten caught? The Labyrinth had never failed her before. So many years of endless twists and turns all to end up in…

The sounds of coworkers tapping away at computers had died, replaced with the rustling of leaves against stone.

Her eyes opened. A dead end.

Again? So soon? She could see the way out, unblocked by mists and mysterious kings. If she hurried…

But no sooner had she taken three steps than he appeared.

Jareth leaned casually against the wall. His shirt hung open haphazardly tucked in at an angle, his pendant glinting in the firelight. Dove grey breeches hugged his legs but no boots covered his feet. "Going somewhere, Sarah dear?"

The memory of a doorknob hidden amongst the ivy spurred her into action. Without a word to the monarch, she turned and sought her freedom before he could follow. Stepping through the threshold, Sarah found herself once again in a place she'd very much like to escape.

Stepping forward towards a balcony, her hands rested on the railings as she took in the setting below her.

Another ballroom. Damn . She wanted the world to swallow her. Her only choice was to stay or turn back and face him directly. The choice was made for her as she faltered. The door behind her disappeared.

She ran down the staircase to the left. The room, if it was a room, was brightly lit. Chandeliers hung from the domed ceilings, their light bouncing off the mirrored walls. Swaths of satin and strings of pearls draped along the columns that sectioned the room into circular layers. The innermost being composed of dancers waltzing to music with no discernible source.

Gowns swished to the music. Masks glittered under the candlelight. It was so similar and yet eerily different. The veil that had clouded her understanding the last time she had been in such a place was lifted. Her innocence no longer shrouded her from things she was too young to entertain. Though she wasn't sure she was ready to witness and understand now.

Cushions lined the dance floor between columns where partygoers reclined as they watched the dancers. Laughing and talking. Sarah's cheeks heated as she remembered being the focus of that laughter and the humiliation that had followed her throughout the room.

Catching a glimpse of herself in a mirror, she looked down to discover that the reflection was true. Ribbons and braids curled around her hair. She wore a ball gown that rivaled the one from so many years ago. The sleeves had changed with time, replaced with long form-fitting ones. The bodice dipped lower, revealing the curve of her breasts. The skirt, while full, has definitely lost some of its fullness.

Her clothes had always stayed the same in her time in the Labyrinth. Whatever she fell asleep in never seemed to bother the Labyrinth before. Why was this time different?

Because a handsomely bedraggled king was so close? No. Don't think about that. She needed to focus. To keep her head clear. She did not need to think about his state of undress. How he looked like the men on the romance novels Grandma Mary used to smuggle to her, his shirt and hair billowing gently on the breeze. Tight tight trousers. He seemed human in that moment and yet feral as he set his eyes on her.

Sarah's palm itched. Her hair stood on the back of her neck. He was here.

Jareth's bare feet graced the marble floor of the ballroom. Well well well. How very interesting. A poor replica but charming nonetheless. His eyes scanned the ballroom searching for the dark-haired beauty who defied him at every turn. Seeing her once more in that setting, remembering the lost little girl who searched without knowing what it was she hoped to find, made his heart pound. Although, he was the one seeking this time.

He caught a glimpse of her, striking against the rabble that roused in the ballroom. He stepped behind a column as he observed the way she moved, admiring her grace and agility. Ever closer to his goal. He had her fear. Needed her love and gauging by their current surroundings that might not be as difficult to obtain as it may have seemed.

Sarah turned in place. Where were the chairs? Surely, she should be able to break out of this dream as well. All she saw were cushions lining the back walls. No tables. No chairs. No candelabras. Nothing to shatter the illusion. Maybe because there was none.

She concentrated on moving through the crowd, ignoring their lascivious stares and hands brushing against her. She had no baby to save this time. No time limit to beat. The only thing she had to save was herself.

If she could get to the walls, maybe she could find an exit. A hidden door or passageway. Her body stiffened. Her name teased her ear. A whisper reaching through the riotous merrymakers. Closing her eyes, she willed it away. She would not succumb.

She gasped as a hand squeezed her shoulders, turning her. Her eyes opened and she spun in her office chair, her coworker Lisa staring down with furrowed brow.

"Sarah, you okay?" she asked. Her head peeked over the walls of Sarah's cubicle, hoping she hadn't raised anyone's suspicions. "You were dead to the world. Are you sick?"

Sarah took a deep breath then exhaled. "I'm fine. I just had a rough night." A rough night that bled into my day. Her eyes darted around her small cubicle. The familiar objects grounding her in reality.

"I was about to get some coffee. You want me to bring you some?" Lisa asked. Her fingers fussed with her short bobbed hair trying to retain some of the volume she curled into it before straightening her blue blouse.

Lisa had started at the company at the same time as Sarah. The two of them consistently being passed for better positions had solidified their friendship over the years. Besides bringing each other coffee, they often stopped after work on Fridays at the local bar for a drink to celebrate surviving another week of tediousness.

"Please," Sarah replied. Not that she needed more caffeine but it couldn't hurt. "Thanks, Lisa."

"No problem. Just make sure you get to bed early tonight, okay? Oh, that's pretty. I like it." Her eyes flicked to Sarah's hair before she walked down the row of cubicles towards the break room.

Sarah mindlessly nodded, her fingers reflexively running through her hair. They snagged on something woven into her dark brown locks. Nimbly working it out of her tresses, a scream lodged in her throat as she stared at a length of silver ribbon.

The absolute last thing she needed was more sleep.

Jareth shrugged his shoulders, adjusting the forest green tailcoat over his silver and black embroidered waistcoat. Straightening his cascading cravat, he stepped back to admire his reflection in the looking glass. This time when he arrived in the ballroom he would be ready to play his part in her fantasy. To be the man of her dreams. A sharp grin smiled back in the mirror. He already was, no matter how she tried to fight it.

He crossed the room, gazing out of the open window over the stretching landscape of intricate winding walls. In the last few hours, he began to rethink his strategy. Should he force her hand or let her continue to run? He always planned to catch her and bend her to his will. He was never one to play with his prey. But he realized now that his future, their future, would not be determined by his whims but hers. If she was unwilling and resentful those emotions would fester, spilling into not only their union but the Labyrinth as well.

If he continued his pursuit, she would resist with her last breath. The fact that she had eluded him this long was a testament to her willful stubbornness.

His bare fingertip stroked his thin lips. No , he decided. She was trapped in a prison of her own design. He would have to observe. Though his very soul demanded that she be his. Denying himself was the only way he would finally obtain what he desired.

He had always prided himself in the control he wielded over himself and his life. He was no lowly Fae tricking humans with fairy rings and stealing offerings of cream from windowsills. He was the Goblin King, Lord of Wishes, and Purveyor of Dreams. Yet, he had lost the child rightfully his. Lost the Labyrinth, central to his defense. And most cruel of all, lost her.

He was so blind in his desperation to claw back his power, he lost sight of the broader perspective. Now that he had her in his sights, he needed to ensure their future. He wanted her and would have her, but to have her willingly….that would be worth a little longer interlude.

Sarah paced her apartment. She would have to go in that god-awful ballroom again. With all the puzzles and mysteries of her run, that had been the most confusing and the part that haunted her thoughts through the years.

Her eyes ached. Her body cried out to be still. She knew she should lay down. Get it over with. But seeing it all. Seeing him was somehow scarier than the years she spent running.

She'd be lying if she said he wasn't handsome. That his voice saying her name in that baritone drawl didn't send shivers down to the tips of her toes. But it was so wrong. How could her body react after everything he'd done? Her brother. Her friends.

Sarah scootched down her mattress, rolling to her side. When had she laid down? Her head was spinning. Like every night she fought a losing battle. She looked at the clock on her nightstand. 2:15 a.m. She just needed to make it a little longer.

In the blink of an eye, her clock was replaced with the rustling leaves and foliage under the moonlight. Before he could appear and block her path, she disappeared into the ballroom. Maybe he wouldn't follow this time.

Slipping into the ballroom, Sarah walked the perimeter looking for anything that might be a secret passage out of this bacchanalian bastille. She touched the panels of mirrored walls. Pulled on every sconce. Made her way around the dancers twirling and lovers loitering in alcoves.

Was it harder to see tonight? Were the lights dimmer? The music slower? Goosebumps raised the skin on her arms. Shaking her head she continued her search to no avail. She was well and truly trapped. With him.

Jareth watched her progress as she systematically tested every nook and cranny on the walls. He circled the room avoiding her discovery, allowing her to ignore his presence. For now.

Did she really not know what this room was? What it represented? How she came to be here? What must be done to leave?

For all the swaggering bravado she had shown during her run, somewhere along the way his champion had forgotten her will was as strong, or was she still blind to the consequences of dreams and wishes?

Finished with her investigation, Jareth sunk into the shadows of an alcove to watch her scan the room. Would she seek him out? Would tonight finally be the night she stopped running? The hands she planted on her hips and knitted brow did not bring him hope although it did amuse him.

Sarah knew he was watching her. She just couldn't tell from where. She scanned the party for his telltale feathered coiffe. Was he in disguise? Hidden behind a mask with the rest of the faceless merry-goers. Was he amongst the dancers? Would she care if he was? She quickly banished the thought of another woman waltzing in his arms from her mind.

She didn't understand. He chased her for years. He finally had her cornered. What was he waiting for? Were there just too many witnesses in this soiree to commit murder?

She was confused and disoriented. Her one truth in all the years of nightmares was that the Goblin King was coming for her and would kill her if he caught her. That night had come and gone but she was still here. And the anger and malevolent energy she ran from night after terrifying night was no longer present. She felt nothing of that nature from the emotions that resided in her but were not her own. Those felt gleeful, giddy almost. And perhaps that was more fearsome.

Her line of vision was obscured as a tall figure loomed over her. His hair so dark it glinted blue in the flickering candlelight. Obsidian eyes with no discernable pupil fixated on her.

"My lady." He gave a shallow bow before reaching for her with a gloved hand.

A refusal tripped on her tongue as she was twirled onto the dance floor amongst the terpishoreans, keeping time with the tempo of the ethereal tune that floated through the air. Sarah pulled away from the man. Her stomach churned as he pulled her closer.

Leaning down, his breath snaked over her neck and bare shoulder as he whispered in a low hiss, "You belong here. With us."

"No," she snapped. She tugged her hand from his velvet clutches. No sooner had she freed herself, she was caught in the arms of another.

Her new partner was a woman wearing a chartreuse gown. Her auburn hair was piled high on her head in pinned curls adorned with feathers. A white lace mask outlined her violet eyes framed with thick dark lashes which batted in her direction. Tiny lace gloves covered the long fingers entwined with Sarah's.

"Haven't you always wanted this? Wondered what it would be like?" she simpered.

Sarah struggled against the Fae woman's unnatural strength. "Not like this."

No matter how hard Sarah tried she always found herself in the arms of another. Each one filling her with a deep sense of disgust and dread. It felt wrong to have their hands on her waist, brushing against her exposed skin, caressing her cheek as they all implored in turn.

Jareth watched as Sarah danced. Each partner more eager than the last. How dare they touch her? She was the champion, their future queen regardless of their reality.

He continued his observations, gauging her reaction. Would she welcome their attentions? Would she remember her first dance? He leaned against the column, crossing his arms over his chest with all the balefulness of a petulant cat.

His teeth clenched as he felt her panic rising. His resolve to remain at a distance crumbled as she fought to extricate herself from their persistent clawing.

Sarah didn't want this despite their insistence that she had longed to join their dance. There was no way to stop them. There were too many. An unending apply of potential partners, each left her feeling worse than the last.

Her feet hurt. Thin dance slippers under her gown worn through. Another set of arms enveloped her. Their gentle grasp steadying her before taking her hand in his.

Warmth seeped through her body, exorcising the cold that had taken hold, spreading from her palm, down her arm, and stretching through her body as it hit her head. Contentment overcame her. A feeling of belonging. Of being home washed over her. All her muscles relaxed as she looked into the eyes of her savior. His crystalline blue gaze stared back, pupils uniquely uneven.

Her lips parted in bewilderment, her body remained lax although her stomach fluttered while her brain yearned to fight. To flee.

"I believe this dance is mine," he said. His voice was low. He placed her other hand on his shoulder. Splaying his hand across her lower back, he pulled her against him.

Could he feel her heart pounding against her breast? The rhythm steady, resounded in her own ears. A constant shrill irritating beep. Beep?

She blinked. Her hand slammed down on her alarm clock. She sat up, swinging her legs off the edge of her bed. Her eyes focused on the floor concentrating on the pattern of her rug. The pleasant feeling that possessed her body was gone. The only thing that remained was the threadbare silver slippers still encasing her feet.

Author Note: Hey! Sorry, it's been a minute. But good news, I finished my other WIP that I had been writing for like 5 years this year and this is now currently my only WIP. Bad news, I've got some health issues messing up my brainpower right now. Turns out you need hormones to think and menopause at 39 (40 in 9 days) happens. Hope y'all are doing alright and are still excited for this story...it's going to be longer than I anticipated. Let me know if you like it with a comment. They give me life! And happy holidays to everyone who celebrates. Stay safe!