Sense. An unexpected thing that Sarah found she still took for granted. Good, clear, common, human sense. Of course, there are ways to measure time. Of course, you would depend on these ways to navigate the rhythms of your life. She couldn't even imagine organizing her day or coordinating with others without such methods. But here she was talking haggardly in circles with Sorin who was very polite, but clearly wondering of she was touched in the head.

I'm a Labyrinth endorsed ghost living in fairy land and somehow, I still managed to make myself look like a crazy old lady

She dismissed the staff that wasn't required to be there for her preparations. But only because she had noticed them slowly inching towards the door or backing up from her mortal ravings about time.

As she sat dutifully at the mirror to have her hair and makeup done she turned to her friends.

"Tell me everything."

GKGKGKGKGKGKGKGKGKGKGKGKGKGKGKGKGKGKGKGKGKGKGKGKGKGKGKGKGKGKGKGKGKGKGKGKGKGKGK

The Goblin King was blissfully unaware of the singlemindedness Sarah was currently aiming at him like a laser.

He was too busy micromanaging.

That rose in the massive centerpiece is crooked. The canapes weren't quite golden brown enough. The wine was corked, well maybe not but better open a new one anyway. No, the flautist is all wrong go grab an obo player. A million thoughts in his head all whirling together to form a master intention. Everything must be perfect.

Then his ears picked up the telltale signs of footsteps approaching the dining hall. But something was wrong. There were far too many. Looking towards the door his heart stuttered in his chest.

There was Sarah, dressed in a very flattering dark emerald gown that set off her eyes. But she was changed somehow. Her back was straight, her chin high. Snow white curls piled on top of her head winding around a silver circlet with the Labyrinth insignia on it. In one hand she clutched a jet-black cane with a huge opal on top, and it sounded authoritatively on the floor as she walked. The second she entered the room, it clearly belonged to her. Every inch the Goblin Queen he had once fantasied about. But this queen was not the soft devotedly doting wife of the king. This queen was a razors edge, a mother's touch, and a loving memory all in one formidable woman. One that was approaching him relentlessly.

The urge to run was fleeting, but present.

Looking behind her, he saw that she had been escorted by her friends. Along with a score of goblins and a dozen servants. They were all wide eyed and pressing against the threshold that they knew they weren't allowed to cross.

Briefly she turned to them and said, "Thank you for accompanying me. His Majesty and I have things to discuss, so please enjoy your evening. It was a pleasure to meet all of you." It was a quite voice, but it still carried the length of the room.

"You heard Lady! We gots to scat!" He then recognized Arabella herding the hoard away with her wooded spoon.

The doors shut with a resounding thud, and the resulting quiet was inescapable. The musicians had been stunned into silence.

She rounded her gaze on them.

"Out. Please."

They didn't even look to Jareth for permission. They just put down their instruments and fled.

Unconsciously, Jareth took a step back as she resolutely approached him and…

SMACK!

The sound of her strike echoed on the dance floor. Rubbing his cheek his eyes flashed up to hers in sudden anger. But hers were laced with unshed tears. Her voice was a sword through the soul.

"Hoggle is dead because of you."

Confusion rode on the back of his indigent fury.

"The dwarf is dead? That's hardly surprising. He was elderly himself during your run. You dare presume to place the blame for a natural death on me?!"

She began to circle him, "Do you not recall, Your Majesty? You don't remember exiling him to a shack outside the protection of the Labyrinth? Sir Didymus remembers. Along with a handful of others who took it upon themselves to see that he had food and water? You don't remember the blizzard from a few decades ago?!"

Jareth was speechless. His mind raced, trying indeed to remember what had happened so long ago. He had exiled Hoggle as punishment for his betrayal. Dominance is a very important assertion to the Fae. In his private jealousy he maybe had enjoyed it more than he should. But it was only meant to be temporary. He remembered thinking that he needed to send an order to release him…but had he gotten around to it?

He numbly went and plopped down into a chair, burying his face in hands.

Sarah stopped her prowling and looked at him with open abhorrence.

"You really did forget him, didn't you?"

He averted his eyes.

"…Yes, I did."

A screaming silence stretched between them.

Too quietly Sarah asked,

"This sanctuary, how long is it for?

"Standard Fae contracts use a baseline of a year and a day. You must remain in my charge until the time has elapsed or all protection is forfeit."

"Then hear this Goblin King…"

Her venomous tone made him look at her.

What he saw there truly frightened him.

The iridescence of the magic holding her together was whirling around her furiously. And her aura had taken on an unmistakable purple hue.

"As punishment for failing my friend, a subject of the Labyrinth. For a year and a day, I will share no meals with you. I will not break bread in friendship, and I will not pour wine in celebration. On Hoggle's grave, I swear it." The insignia on her head faintly glowed before she flew out of the room like a wraith of prophecy.

Jareth was left alone amidst the now hollow remnants of his attempt to please Sarah. Every garish and tacky luxury seemed to be silently admonishing him.

For failing my friend

Failing me

Failure

Failure

FAILURE

Summoning a barrage of crystals, he lay waste to every last scrap.