After breakfast, Berta collected Sarah.

"You mustn't babysit me. I can accompany myself," Sarah stated as calmly as she could to the goblin.

"It's the rules, m'lady," said Berta plainly. "I'm to accompany you everywhere, what with you being the future queen and all."

"But I don't want to be the queen!" cried Sarah.

Berta was silent. Her eyes stared at the floor while she thought.

"The future queen will 'ave handmaidens and consorts of 'er own. Until then, I'm to accompany her in order to assist." Berta peered up shyly. "Whether or not you become queen, I could at least show you around, if you'd like. And again, them's the rules, miss."

Berta's eyes were pleading now. Sarah sighed. She knew Berta would be blamed if Sarah turned her away. Berta would take the brunt of the king's anger if anything was ruined or broken on account of Sarah.

"How about this," offered Sarah, "You can show me around today, you can wake me and take me to tomorrow's breakfast, but after breakfast tomorrow, I'm off on my own. Whadya say?"

The goblin tilted her head, thinking as deeply as a goblin could think.

"I 'spose that's alright…"

Sarah grasped one of the servant's gnarly hands.

"Thank you, Berta."

Sarah was lead down corridor after corridor. "So, what use does the king have for so many rooms?" she asked.

"Meetings. Guests. Sport. They're mostly rooms used for royal stuff like ballrooms and meeting-rooms and offices and entertainment parlors and such."

Sarah hoped entertainment meant games. She remembered her chat with Didymus that had put the governmental side of things into perspective. The castle was part of a city, a society that needed governing. Sarah could hardly picture Jareth sitting at a desk signing papers. And the castle was huge. What could possibly occupy so much space? Berta showed Sarah several rooms—but she also didn't show several rooms.

"Why can't I go in?" Sarah had asked the first time Berta skipped a door.

"The king said so."

Sarah huffed. "But why?"

"I don't know, miss. I just know that no visitor is allowed in."

Sarah tried to keep a mental note of where this door was located.

But after another skipped door and another, and a turn left and right after a turn right and left—not to mention all the staircases—Sarah decided her attempt at keeping track wasn't worth the mental capacity. She wasn't even sure she had the mental capacity to keep track of where they were going. The castle wasn't a grid, and, if Sarah's spatial reasoning was correct, the turns they took didn't match the space the castle occupied in the Labyrinth at all.

"But, things are not always what they seem in this place…" she thought to herself, remembering the wise words of the Worm.

What Sarah did get to see was surprisingly unremarkable for a magic castle in the center of the Labyrinth; there were the sculleries, pantries, kitchens, and even ice caves for the respective culinary wings. There were dining rooms and parlors. There were guest rooms and suites. There had even been stables for the goblin…steeds, whatever the strange, dinosaur-looking creatures were.

"Aren't there stables for horses or…things, for the Fae to ride?" asked Sarah, wondering if there was such a need for something when Jareth could teleport and fly.

"Yes, but that's in the vicinity of the keep where the Gentry live."

"Oh," said Sarah, unsure how to feel. Would she meet other Fae today? Truly, she hoped not; she had no desire to meet another Jareth or twenty.

Sarah noted she hadn't been shown any ballrooms, thinking specifically of a particular, mirrored ballroom, but there was no way they would see all of the castle in one day. Sarah asked if she could be escorted back to her room, which Berta obliged.

"Thank you for the tour, Berta," said Sarah earnestly.

"You're most welcome, m'lady, but you need not thank me. Just doing me job."

Sarah was a little disheartened by this and hoped the dear creature had still enjoyed her time.

"Lunchtime is past, miss, but I can have some food brought to your room if you'd like. The king takes dinner quite late, but it's already almost time for that if you'd rather wait until you dine once more with his majesty."

"Must i take every meal with him?!" Sarah inquired in exasperation.

"Well…yes. Unless his majesty isn't around. Then dinner'll be brought to ya."

"But why can't I dine in the dining room on my own?"

Berta thought for a moment. "I…suppose that would be alright. Usually guests' meals are delivered, unless there's a party o' persons to be served in a parlor, but with you on track to be royalty and all…"

Berta trailed off, confused as to whether she should speak with the certainty the king commanded, or as if Sarah were just a temporary visitor as Sarah so fervently implied.

Sarah just sighed. "Thank you, Berta. How about I decide day-to-day where I wish to dine? I don't think I'm hungry now. I'll just rest and wait until I'm collected for dinner."

"Yes, miss," said Berta with a bow.

Sarah was not shocked the next time she awoke lying on sheets of wine-red satin. The nap had done her good, though this was probably because she could finally sleep without the Goblin King entering her dreams. She wouldn't have woken at all without the bustling of Berta opening the door and scampering into her room without knocking.

"Miss, it's time for—" Berta's eyes widened as her sentence caught in her throat.

"Miss, you must change for dinner."

"Why?"

"'Tis customary!"

"No. I'm not changing. I do enough of what he says to do, and he's lucky I'm coming to dinner at all."

Berta just stared. The silence was uncomfortable; Sarah didn't want to make Berta's life any harder than it had to be. But, she would not be bullied into frivolities.

"Alright, miss," said Berta without betraying any emotion.

Instead of descending the staircase, Berta lead Sarah up. Up and up and up….

"How can she not even be breaking a sweat?!" thought Sarah, making a feeble attempt to hide her huffing and puffing. When they finally reached what (thankfully) was the floor where dinner would be served, Sarah breathed a sigh of relief.

"I'll have to get in better shape for all these staircases…"

Sarah's breath caught in her throat as she realized these thoughts implied permanence. She quickly shook the feeling off and took in her surroundings.

The sun had just set, and the fading golden-hour cast a rosy glow around the chamber. The room itself was shallow, an unremarkable space of dark wood and a few chairs, but the balcony that lay beyond was as enormous as a great dining hall. Behind the wall of ceiling-to-floor windows was a long table set for a banquet, and at the head of the table sat the Goblin King.

The beauty of the view was enough to distract Sarah from the presence of her captor. She walked forward, entranced.

"It beautiful," she said. The Labyrinth sprawled out before them, as mystical and beautiful as the first day she had seen it. And like that first day, she did not feel fear, but wonder.

"Isn't it?" Jareth said, without even a note of sarcasm; his respect for the Labyrinth was too great. "Leave us," he commanded Berta with a wave of his hand.

Sarah was slowly pulled back to reality. She was hungry, but she did not want to give Jareth the satisfaction of seating herself like she had grown comfortable.

"You didn't dress for dinner," he stated curtly.

"Why should I?" Sarah snapped.

"It's custom here."

"Well, I'm not from here. And I don't plan on staying here if I can help it."

"You didn't dress for dinner," he said again.

Sarah stood in defiant silence. Jareth sighed.

"Well, if you won't wear the proper clothes for dinner, you won't wear the improper clothes either."

With a wave of his hands, her pants began to disappear, starting at the cuff and slowly dematerializing towards her knees. Sarah gave a yelp and tried to press her hands against them, a feeble attempt at stopping the magic. It had reached her thighs and she quickly threw her hands down to cover her private parts.

"Ok!" she squealed. "Ok ok ok. Just stop! I'll change."

Jareth smirked. But, her pants had stopped disappearing, leaving her with hardly a bikini-bottom of material.

After a beat of humiliation, Sarah broke the silence. "I'll go change."

"That will take too long," said the king lazily. With another wave of his hand, her tunic and (remaining) pants slowly morphed into a long, off-white dress. Sarah gave a gasp as the material appeared around her body in a small gust of wind and glitter. The outfit was not unlike the one she had worn that dated day in the park, aside from the fact that this one was sleeveless and the decoté was both wider and lower. She believed the belt and gold hemming was in fact the same as her old costume.

"Living out your fantasy much?" she thought to herself.

"Won't you sit, my dear?" he asked coolly.

"Do I have a choice? Everything seems to have a time and place here."

"Both time and space are quite irrelevant here. And no, you don't," he replied with a wicked grin growing across his face.

Sarah did not let her countenance betray her feelings; butterflies danced in her belly as a chord of fear was struck in the air. She sat immediately to his right, hoping it would annoy him that she sat as close to the head of the table as possible.

"Though i don't enjoy coming any closer to him than I have to," she thought to herself.

Jareth simply continued to grin, amused at the girl's panache.

Like a viper, his right hand struck out and grasped her left.

"I shall always hope to have you next to me."

Sarah tried to pull away, but he was too strong; he drew her hand to his lips for a kiss, lingering with the soft skin of his mouth on her knuckles as he locked her eyes in his gaze.

When he set her hand back down on the table, she quickly pulled away and set both hands in her lap.

"Don't get used to it," she huffed.

"Sarah, the sooner you accept that you are here to stay, the sooner you can stop feeling like a guest and more at home," he said mildly, serving himself steaming greens and what appeared to be poultry. Sarah hated how calm he could be. It wasn't his life as he knew it that had just been ended.

"I am not a guest. I am imprisoned here," she said through clenched teeth of silent rage, not touching any food.

"Yes, you are a guest here…" he said, pausing. "And yes, you are imprisoned."

Sarah slammed her palms onto the table. "And how can I possibly be a guest here if I'm also a prisoner?"

"Because you are a prisoner by your own doing!" Jareth said, voice raised and almost at a yell.

The next moments of silence were deafening.

"I did it to save my family," she finally said, the weight of the statement sinking like a stone in the pool of silence.

They both stared at their plates, not daring to make eye contact. Jareth finally sighed.

"That's not what I meant. You are only imprisoned here in the castle because I know you would run away. I have taken you away to the castle beyond the Goblin City by your own doing regardless of the circumstances. But you need not be a prisoner here. I would have the finest tutors for you. You would learn to be a lady of the court—learn about our world. I can give you everything you've ever wanted—dresses, jewels, your dreams."

"And how would you know what I want?!" Sarah interjected, tears threatening to spill from her eyes.

"I—" Jareth started.

"What I want is to go home." There was earnest sadness in Sarah's voice. The king could hardly bring himself to stare much longer into those pleading eyes. The emotion with which she spoke was so naked, so vulnerable…he didn't know what to do when she stopped fighting. When she was so…human.

"I can't do that. What's said is said. Even if I wanted to I couldn't." He poured them both a glass of wine from the crystal decanter to his left. He sighed before taking a long drought, staring out at the Labyrinth.

"I've been so generous, Sarah. So generous and—"

"Here we go again," the girl said, rolling her eyes and grabbing her chalice. She took a long drink as well, not hiding the look of disgust on her face as she tasted the bitter liquid for the first time in her life.

"No! Sarah, don't say such things. I have been generous. Oh I am cruel, yes, but I am generous. I could lock you in my bed-chambers and have that be the end of your freedom. And don't think the thought hadn't crossed my mind. You're here with me, and I am growing impatient. What I want, what I am waiting for cannot be kept from me forever!" he said, his voice almost at a yell once more.

"I know what you want!" cried Sarah, admitting to herself the thing she had pretended not to think about, admitting to herself the darker side of their story. She knew what he wanted, and she was terrified of that. She was biding her time. Would he force her? Would he hurt her? Would it hurt…? Sarah had not wanted to think about it, but she couldn't stop her mind from wandering all those years ago. What would've happened to her, had she failed running the Labyrinth? If he did have power over her? She shuddered at the thought.

"You've never even asked me what I want,"

she whispered.

The king furrowed his brow.

"Well…what do you want?"

"What do I want?" Sarah asked herself. Honestly, she didn't know. She didn't know what to do. She didn't know what came next. She would try to escape every chance she got, but she knew those chances would not come often. For now, she was going to be with the Goblin King. With Jareth. She hoped it was just a meal here and there, but she did not doubt the king would grow weary of waiting, as he had said.

"I'll let you know," she said thoughtfully, taking another drink. This time, it went down smoother, and she didn't crinkle her nose.

Jareth scoffed.

They ate in silence, and the sky grew darker and darker. Soon twilight overtook the golden hour, and Sarah felt she had more to say, but she didn't know what. She had said everything that needed to be said, and she had repeated herself time and time again; different words came out of her mouth, but they bore the same meaning.

The Goblin King cleared his throat, took his glass of wine—his second or third by now— and rose from the table. Sarah followed suit but left her drink behind, and hoped she would be excused—or, rather, waited for an opportunity to excuse herself. To Sarah's surprise, he strode to the thick, stone railing of the balcony and stared into the distance. Sarah didn't know why, but she joined him. She wanted so badly to be a part of this word, of this world that was his world she acknowledged, but…she wasn't sure she wanted to be in his world the same way he wanted her to be—and she had thought about it. On those nights her mind asked the question "what if," she could not deny the desire that burned in the pits of her being, despite knowing it was wrong. And if desire was too strong a sentiment, Sarah was intrigued; intrigue and fearlessness are a dangerous combination hand-in-hand.

Jareth turned to his intended bride, regarding the girl, the woman who he desired both body and spirit. He reached out to caress her face.

Sarah jerked backwards.

He swiftly strode towards her and reached out again, his left hand striking like a viper after its prey. The sensation of touching her was electric even through his gloves.

Sarah tried to pull herself from his grasp, but he advanced. His free hand gripped her shoulder and pinned her against the balcony railing.

His mouth was on hers like lightning to a spire; instantaneous and hot. Sarah clamped her lips shut, but he was slowly winning the battle to part them. His tongue snaked inside her mouth and she let out a squeal of protest.

"Open your mouth," he growled, before descending upon her again.

Feelings of disgust and arousal mixed into a hot flush that rose to her face. Her mouth was unintentionally moving along with his. She was unable to resist, unable to move.

He pulled away and Sarah gasped for air.

"Love me, Sarah. I could be so good to you. You're the only worthy woman fit to be by my side. You're the champion of the Labyrinth. You're a hero." He paused, his eyes roaming up and down her body. "And every hero needs a villain."

His right hand left her shoulder and found it's way to her breast. Sarah stared at him in unwavering defiance; she would not cower. He massaged as his mouth attacked her neck. An involuntary moan escaped her throat. His hands roamed freely over her body now. She struggled, hardly making a difference, hardly making a difference he noticed.

He flipped her around so she faced the Labyrinth.

As the sun was disappearing, Sarah's gaze swept over the great Labyrinth before her; the Labyrinth gazed back, Sarah felt. Would it happen here, so vulgar and open? Jareth ground his hips against her from behind, making sure she felt his bulging desire. Sarah thought she was now the one sprawled out like a maze to be entered and explored, and the Labyrinth was now the spectator.

Jareth snaked his left hand around and pinned both Sarah's hands to her chest while his right hand slowly hiked her dress up towards her hips.

"Come now, precious," he purred in her ear, "you mustn't fight anymore."

It was then Sarah realized this magicked outfit didn't come with undergarments. He began thrusting, dry-humping through his pants as her exposed bottom rubbed against the hot leather. She pinched her legs shut, cursing the pleasurable sensation that coursed through her body as the rhythmic rocking aroused her very center. The Goblin King forced his hand between her legs and cupped her sex. Sarah still struggled but began to tremble.

His growl of pleasure tickled her ear as his hot breath sent another tingle of desire coursing through her. She was so tired of fighting him, but she couldn't let him win her like some prize. Sarah braced herself, expecting him to probe her and not stop there.

"You're shaking, pet," he said, surprising her with the softness of his tone. But Sarah knew it was not compassion that made him lower his voice. A low, deliberate chuckle rumbled in his chest. She felt the vibration against her back.

What seemed like hours passed, and he did nothing but hold her fast.

He withdrew his hand.

Sarah gasped and grew still. The moments of silence stretched into an eternity. Jareth turned her around slowly and took both her wrists in his hands.

"I can be cruel," he said, he gaze piercing, "but when I have you, I'll have you begging for me."

Sarah's breath caught in her throat. Those devious, determined eyes saw straight through her. But then, his gaze faltered for a moment.

"I…have a gift," he said, plainly and betraying no emotion.

In an instant he stepped back from her and they both went up in a cloud of glitter. When the pair materialized, they were standing in a small, round courtyard dappled with patches of grass and loose hay. The edges of the courtyard were occupied with relatively spacious stable stalls.

"A gift?" asked Sarah tentatively. Was this one of his tricks?

In the stables were horses—no, they were deer, noticed Sarah. Several rumps faced them both. The noisy chomping of hay and the musk of dirt and manure wafted through the stables; it was not unpleasant, thought Sarah, but rather homey and sweet.

The Goblin King began to whistle, but the double tones and high pitch were something no human could produce. The tone slid upward in a high pitched riff.

A deer of soft red and tan turned towards them.

It had wings.

Sarah's jaw dropped.

"It's a peryton," said Jareth. "And she's your companion to visit and ride."

"Mi…mine?" wondered the girl in awe. The king nodded.

"You will first be taught to saddle and ride," he said, approaching the creature and setting a hand on its muzzle. He stroked, and the peryton closed its eyes and relaxed its head. "Then you can take her flying whenever you want. At your leisure." He scratched under the winged deer's chin and added, "Naturally staying within the perimeter I set."

Sarah had never seen a creature so majestic. It was large for a deer, though not the largest in the stable. It's coat was sleek and smooth, with not even a speckle to betray the sheen that gleamed despite the low light. Jareth looked at her in expectancy, which Sarah answered by approaching. She slowly reached both hands towards the beast's nose, letting it sniff her. The peryton was hardly tentative and walked right up to Sarah. The girl let out a nervous laugh and set both hands on the creature's elegant head. It had antlers, even though Jareth had said "she," but it was not built as bulky as the earthly reindeer who bore antlers regardless of gender; though, so it was large compared to the deer Sarah was familiar with on earth.

"What's her name?" asked Sarah.

"Whatever you call her," replied the monarch, stroking the animal's back. "She was saved and intended for you."

Sarah looked down. This "gift," this beautiful animal was truly an honor. She again realized how much bigger this situation was than her; this peryton had been intended for her for years.

"Isabell," smiled Sarah. "Her name will be Isabell."

The peryton's ears flicked forward.

"She knows it," said Jareth with a gentle smirk. Isabell's eyes told Sarah so; they were deep and intelligent, and Sarah felt as if they saw her clearer than even her friends at school.

This thought sent a pang of homesickness through her body.

"Jareth, I—" she began, but when she turned to look for him, he was gone and had left not so much as a speck of glitter behind.