"You want me to go back in there?"

"Yes."

"Of my own accord?"

"Yes."

"You expect me to willingly go back to the place where you kidnapped my brother, set your monsters on me, and then, when it still looked like I was doing too well for you to handle, tried to trap me? So you can try and keep me locked away there a second time?"

"I get the impression that this frustrates you somehow."

Sarah blew out air so hard that her lower lip quivered. "Were you always this aggravating?"

"I'm not certain, love. Were you?" Jareth gave her a tight-lipped smile, and found his feet again. The grace with which he moved never ceased to amaze her, and Sarah wasn't quite prepared to have him standing before her, so close once more. The crystal he held crumbled to stardust between his fingers. "For so many years now, I've felt your longings and shared in them, seeing night after night how well they pair with my own. Years that have left me hoping and praying for you to overrule your stubbornness and call upon me, all the while knowing that any encounter of ours would only bring us to this."

He reached out to her, then, and no one was more surprised than she, when she actually allowed for him to touch her. His hands closed around her upper arms and began to stroke gently up and down, leaving tingles of sensation in their wake. "At every turn, you continue to fight me, denying even what your own dreams tell you that you want. Even at my own chagrin, I offer to rid you of them, if you so wish, and all you accuse me of is tormenting you."

"Don't you think it's a little sadistic?" She tried for anger, yet her body did not seem capable of it, not with the way his fingers stroked and soothed her through the soft satin of her nightgown. "You obviously have the power to stop the dreams, but only if I agree to play your games."

"Am I entitled to nothing?" He raised a hand to her cheek, brushing away a loose strand of her hair. Even through his gloves, his touch sent electricity crackling through her every pore. "After all," he continued, seemingly oblivious, or perhaps all too aware of the effect he was having, "You've made it clear you would not come willingly to me, however much you might want to, and now you intend to deprive me of even the pleasure of sharing in your dreams. If I have to resort to bargains and wagers to otherwise win you, then I must. A dying man desperate for water would not hesitate to grasp at whatever meagre drops he can find."

"So, essentially, I don't have a choice."

"You always have a choice, for I have always given you the chance to turn back." His hand openly caressed her cheek now, and in spite of everything, she found her chin tilting upwards towards him, melting in the warmth of his words. "Always the chance to refuse, if you so wish, Sarah. My games, my labyrinth … me … "

When he bent his head to kiss her, she did not pull back, but lifted her face to meet him halfway. It was the first time she had ever truly been kissed, and all those missed years of longing and passion were poured into it. She closed her eyes and parted her lips to welcome him, her hands moving to grip the lapels of his shirt to pull him closer. His lips were softer than she could have imagined them, his tongue hot and needy as it stroked her own, guiding her. It was rough and almost unbearably sweet, and set the fire in her belly burning higher and higher as he deepened the kiss, drawing her body flush against his, one hand at the small of her back, the other pushed deep into her hair.

In that kiss, she saw herself finally yielding to him, allowing him to take her to bed as no man ever had, and quench that flame inside her at last. He would forever be her master and teacher; every dream and every one of her fantasies made real – made flesh. A sudden strong yearning, anticipation and, yes, even elation swept through her, and with a groan, she pushed it, and him, away.

The kiss had clearly awakened something within them both, with even the unflappable Goblin King now breathing hard, and seeming a little unsteady on his feet. There was silence between them, along with a certain dark look in his eyes – one that made her almost afraid to stare into them for too long, lest she give up, and give in.

"You've never given me a choice," she said, at last, and though her lips seemed to throb with the reminder of him, they pushed the words out easily enough. "You're the only man I've ever gotten close to – you've made sure of that, all this time. It was always going to be you who had me first. How can I know if I want anyone else, if you've never even let me consider anyone else?"

To his credit, he recovered quickly, shifting back to the topic at hand with barely a blink, as though, with that kiss, the very world had not shaken beneath them. Now that she had put physical distance between them, he thought nothing of reclining onto her bed once more, and she did not bother to object. After all, he had seen inside of her most private thoughts – what was a bed?

"I've already told you, Sarah. I cannot make you dream of me. Your dreams show you what it is that you want, but clearly you will always be too stubborn to take it. If you can't bring yourself to come to me, then you must win your freedom by completing my labyrinth." His face had softened some with the kiss they had shared, but now she saw it harden once more, as he laid down his gauntlet. "I must warn you, this will be a new game entirely – and this time, you will have none of your friends to help you. I fear it is a much darker place that you will find yourself in. Feeling brave, love?"

This was much safer territory. She could at least deal with a testy, taunting Jareth. "Of course, you'd have to make it harder for me."

"More than you could imagine, pet," he said, with a smirk. "But my powers only stretch so far, and my labyrinth does tend to have a mind of its own, as I'm sure you remember. As you have grown, and left behind your innocence, so, too, has the labyrinth. Gone are the silly trials and harmless foes, and in their place, quite real dangers at every turn. While I have grown fond enough of you as to never allow physical harm to befall you, I cannot promise you will find this labyrinth quite so much a … what were your words? Ah, yes, a 'piece of cake'."

Sarah folded her arms across her chest. "You say all this like you're trying to scare me away again."

Jareth spread his hands, and smiled. "As I said, I have always given you a choice. Though you may not think it of me, I do believe in honesty, Sarah, and would not want for you to rush into this unprepared and ill-informed, and without hearing all of the terms."

"Terms," Sarah mused, her eyes narrowing. "You and your tricks. I want to know exactly what I'm getting in for, before I even consider this."

"Of course. You will be given thirteen hours – no more, no less – to navigate the labyrinth, and reach my castle. If you should fail, or somehow fall along the way to its trials-"

"You just said you wouldn't let any physical harm befall me!"

"Of course not, precious. If you are in true danger, I will always come to your aid – but any help I give you will come at a price."

"There's always a price," she grumbled.

"Indeed. Where's the fun otherwise?" He smiled, apparently enjoying himself a great deal more than she, now. He had settled back most comfortably on her bed, one leg thrown heedlessly over its corner, to expose the tempting line of one long, taut inner thigh, and that even tauter- "Pay attention, sweet one," he chided softly.

Sarah blushed and dropped her eyes, knowing that he had caught her stare. Instead of removing the cause of her apparent fascination, Jareth seemed to revel in her embarrassment, uncompromising in his suggestive pose. He grinned at her for a long time, making her cheeks bloom red and then crimson before he finally relented, and continued on. "For every time my service is required, I will expect payment – a small token of your esteem, for my kindness."

"Such as?" she croaked, risking his gaze again.

Jareth shrugged, and gave his raised leg a leisurely little kick. It flexed the muscles along his thigh in a way that sent all of Sarah's inner muscles cramping in kind, as she was certain he knew it would. "I'm sure you must have some ideas already, but the exact payment is unimportant. It will be a token, nothing more, to thank me for my generosity."

"You can be so generous," Sarah muttered.

"In most cases, yes, but not quite so generous in this instance as I think you'd like me to be. I can only come to your aid twice, Sarah. Anything more than that, and the game will be forfeit, with I as the victor."

"Three strikes and I'm out? I hardly think that's-"

"Fair?" Jareth sneered, and shook his head. "Fair doesn't come into it, pet. Did your books teach you nothing?" His long fingers sketched a brief dance in the air, and conjured three glittering glass balls this time. They sparkled and shimmered in the light as he began to turn them upon his palm, never slowing, never seeming in any danger of losing control of one.

"Three is a most powerful number for those of my kind. It holds many a gift, and many a curse. I believe it should be a fitting clause in our game – one that will allow you a fair margin of error, and in turn, allow me a degree of dignity. I can only bend to your will so far, before I must demand my restitution."

"So, that's your deal, then? I agree to beat your bigger, harder … oh, you can stop smirking! I … complete your more difficult labyrinth, and then you break the link between us for good?"

"That is correct, provided you are successful."

Sarah felt her stomach twist slightly, at the implied 'if'. "And if I'm not?"

The Goblin King grinned, and bowed his head. "Sweet girl, always so wary of me – as well you should be. The price for failure is that which you continue to deny me, even as your every word and every action fight against it."

She frowned. "My body, right? I'd have to forfeit that to you, so you can finally say you've had me, and won?"

Jareth shook his head slightly. "In part, but I'm afraid my price runs far deeper than mere carnal pleasures, should you fail."

"Then, what is this price?"

For a moment, he looked to his crystals, watching the ever-changing light they reflected, as they sketched out infinity within his palm. Finally, he turned his eyes back to hers, cocking his head to one side and looking at her in a way that left her feeling barer than any dream fantasy. "You, Sarah. If you cannot best me a second time, then you will yield to me that power you once denied me, once and for all. You will bow to me, submit yourself to me in every way, and in doing so, you will allow for me to give to you anything and everything you could ever desire. No more games, no more struggles – simply the two of us, together, in my realm. You will live as long as I, as my queen by name, but I will worship you as a goddess."

The depth of his emotion left her feeling strangely hollow, as if her stomach had been filled with nothing but air. It was a great deal to ask of anyone, and yet he asked it of her so freely. "That's a pretty big penalty for losing."

"High stakes, Sarah," he agreed. "But the reward you seek is, for myself, at least, a costly one."

With a sweep of his hand, the small orbs left his possession, to circle the air before her eyes. It was a neat enough trick – not to mention a reminder of exactly what powerful forces she was messing with – but it was him Sarah focussed on as he laid out his rules.

"Three chances at victory, and thirteen hours in which to claim it. If you triumph, then I will forever break the link that binds you to me. There will be no more shared dreams – any fantasies you have will be entirely your own. If you should fail, or otherwise fall to my labyrinth on three occasions within that time, then you agree to remain with me, within my power."

Sarah wet her lips as she considered. She had gotten over the shock of seeing him as well as she ever would, but still her heart was racing as she considered her options. If she refused him, then the dreams would continue, and she would never be free of his shadow, not to mention that deep, insatiable hunger. She knew that a night like the last would come again, where her desperation reached feverish new levels, and she could stand it no longer. She would be helpless but to call for him, and allow for him to take her, relinquishing every last scrap of dignity and control in the face of that crippling desire. She was certain that, once that day came, and she had finally tasted of him, and he of her, that there would be no respite; no return to 'normal' life as she knew it. 'Once I've had you, I won't ever want to let you go again,' he had promised, and there was no doubt in her mind that the Goblin King would be true to his word.

If she agreed to this wager, and failed, then she would have inadvertently bound herself to him forever. The promise of power and near-immortality, of magic and things that would be forever beyond the dull grey walls of this human realm; most of all, the promise of him – the object of her every guilty, needful fantasy; her fascination and obsession, and the commodity that she craved above all else. He would love her, treasure her, and show her ways to slake that eternal thirst, but in return she would have to bow before him, and perhaps risk losing her true self in the face of his majesty – and wouldn't a part of her always run from that idea of giving him power over her? He could offer her the sun itself in the palm of his hand, and still she would feel the need to deny him.

If she played his game, and won, then she would be free of the worst, most torturous of her dreams. Her days and nights would be free to do with what she willed. Without those constant reminders, she could put her time in his labyrinth behind her for good. She could find love and happiness of her own, without the constant reminder of him tainting all other men. Deep down, a part of her – though one she would deny to the death, if asked – knew that there would be no forgetting him entirely. Delving deeper still, she wasn't quite certain she would ever truly want to forget. There would come a time when she had lost a little of her youth and her looks – a time when she found the initial sparkle of any 'normal' relationship had faded, and that her husband would more often than not prefer a night with the TV, than with her. When that time came, she would look back on this opportunity with envy and longing, knowing that she had once been offered that sun, and had turned her face away from it for good.

It was too much for anyone to decide, and yet he stared expectantly up at her from his perch, as if he had asked nothing more complex than the time of day. What he asked was a lifetime, in which she could come to love, or loathe whatever decision she had made, and whatever fate had befallen her. The sheer magnitude of it was stifling. She could ask him to come the next night, to give her time to think, but the hours between now and eternity would not bring her a clear enough answer. He offered her everything and nothing, and he himself would gain or lose the same. It all boiled down to chance – a gamble that could win or lose her everything.

She rolled the dice.

"If," she said, "If I agree to this, I need your word that you won't mess with me on this one." He arched an exquisitely groomed eyebrow at that, and Sarah quickly continued. "What I mean is, from what you've said, this new labyrinth is already going to try its best to chew me out. I don't think I can handle any of your tricks and mind games on top of that. I want your word that you won't try any of your enchantments, or … or peaches on me."

On cue, the three shining balls that danced before her glowed briefly orange, before shrinking and morphing themselves into the fruits. Irritated, Sarah batted them away from her. The first two popped like bubbles the moment she made contact, but touching the third sent sparks flying through her fingertips, and the fruit itself landed in the centre of the Goblin King's outstretched hand.

"Perish the thought, sweet one," he said, and took a bite. His full lips glistened with the juice, and pulled into a knowing smile as he chewed. It took every last ounce of Sarah's self-control not to watch them.

"Your word, or the deal is off," she said. "I want your promise that if you so much as think about screwing with my head in there, or otherwise altering my conscious so that I just so happen to 'forget' about completing your labyrinth, then I win by default."

"Hmm. A good enough rule." He devoured the rest of the peach in small, methodical bites, gazing up at her all the while, and it was not clear whether he savoured the fruit, or her discomfort more. Finally, he made the stone disappear between his fingers. "Done. No tricks of the mind. Do we have a deal, then?"

Sarah opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again. There was something …

"Orbody! Don't think I'm letting you sneak that little loophole past me. You agree not to mess with my mind, only to trick my body into being being stuck to your bedposts until the timer runs out. Your word," she demanded.

Jareth tutted softly. "More's the pity." He was clearly loving this, the notorious trickster in his element. "Very well, Sarah, no tricks. I give you my word that I will not inflict upon you any harm that might hinder or otherwise occupy that shrewd mind, or lovely body of yours, on forfeit of our game. Does that satisfy you?"

Sarah drew in a deep breath. "Yes."

The Goblin King smiled. "Delightful."

His relaxed posture was more deceptive that she realised. Quite literally, in the blink of an eye, he was on his feet, and her bed, along with the rest of her room, had melted away into the deep orange skies of his realm.

Once more, the two of them stood before his labyrinth.

It looked no different than she had recalled, but how could anyone truly remember its sheer size? Though he had brought them to a minor rise in the land, allowing her to look down upon it, the maze seemed to fill the entire horizon, stretching out beneath the strange dark sky for an eternity. It was more than enough to set her heart beating faster, cold dread beginning to unfurl inside her belly. She wondered how she had ever managed to beat it at all. She turned to her companion, and was not surprised to find him smiling. There was none of the trepidation she felt there – only a confidence that said he expected victory.

"Thirteen hours, Sarah." He was practically purring now. "Whatever the outcome, I'm certain this will be a most interesting experience for us both."

"For you, at least," she grumbled, but already she was speaking to nothing but the empty air. He had disappeared before her very eyes, and left her with nothing but her immediate regret, and the long road ahead. For the first time, she felt grit between her toes, along with the roughness of the ground beneath her, and realised that he had brought her here in just her bare feet and thin nightdress. "You could have at least given me the chance to get dressed!" she called out. "I don't even have any shoes here!"

Almost as soon as she had spoken, a white, rectangular box appeared on the ground before her. Ever wary of this place – not to mention of him – Sarah nudged it with her toe. When nothing immediately sprang from it to bite or otherwise bother her, she relented, and bent to retrieve it. It was sturdy, but not too heavy, and she had a feeling she knew what lay inside. Even still, she was careful to peel back the lid slowly.

She had to smile. Inside the box was a pair of ankle boots – stylish, yet not entirely practical, just like a certain someone she knew – with pointed toes and high block heels. They were cut from some strange pearlescent material she had never seen before, their colour dancing from pure, brilliant white, to a deep, rose-pink, and back to a palest green that, she realised, almost perfectly matched the flowers on her nightgown. Something told her that, as with everything else she encountered in this place, this was no mere coincidence.

"Cute," she murmured, and then dug out a small card that was nestled between the boots. It read: 'Sarah Williams, Champion of the Goblin King's Labyrinth, Saviour of All Children and Kicker of Goblin Ass'.

"What is this?" she asked, and was surprised when the Goblin King actually re-appeared before her to explain.

"My subjects do have their uses, at times. Beautiful craftsmanship. The shoes are simply what you asked for. I have no desire to see your lack of footwear cause some injury to you, nor to have you claiming I have any unfair advantages by keeping you barefoot. Should you, however, longto be barefoot and willing before me-"

She gave the card a quick tap, drawing his attention before he could wander too far down that undignified path. "And this … form of address?"

"Of course my goblins defer to you that way, love – for did you not, in all your power, so title yourself?"

She had to laugh at that. "Well, yeah, but ..." She studied the card again. "What, no 'vestal virgin princess'?"

"A queen is ranked far higher than a mere princess, dear one. I myself will remove you of the rest."

Remove me of the-

Oh.

Her smile vanished as quickly as he did.

Despite her reservations, the boots fit her quite well, soft and comfortable enough when she gave them a few experimental steps. They would definitely help – being comfortable was essential, given the long journey she knew she had to face. She was entirely alone now, ready to take on the same winding labyrinth that had consumed her every dream since she was a teenager. No, she corrected herself, a different labyrinth – a darker labyrinth. There was nothing to it but to get started, unless she was willing to just up and surrender herself to Captain Codpiece forever. No, that was far from what she wanted … wasn't it?

It's only forever. It's not long at all.

Shaking off that train of thought for the immediate eternity, and packing it away as tightly as a certain someone's trousers, she focused on the sloping path ahead of her. There was no grumpy gardener with his pesky fairy problem this time to distract her – feeling a moment of sadness that she would not find her friends on this journey – so she concentrated on the entranceway instead. It stood ominous and open for her, giving access to whatever mysteries lay ahead.

Trying to instil herself with confidence, she gave a wide grin that felt foolish the moment it touched her lips. She placed her hands on her hips, reaching for some of her younger-self's enthusiasm for the fantastical, and the unknown. "Oh boy, an adventure," she said, unsurprised to find the words sounded flat to her own ears. "Feets, don't fails me now," she muttered, and set off at a reluctant trudge.

– It's further than you think –

It was a trudge that took her on a seemingly endless journey, through muddy-brown roughly-hewn brick walls, and snarls of weeds and tangled, dying tree branches. It seemed much the same as the desolate landscape she had encountered on her first journey here, with the only hint of vitality or colour to be found was in the sway of her dress; the soft tread of her boots.

She walked much further that day than she could ever remember having to on her previous journey, with no hidden doorways in sight. Just to be certain, she walked with one hand trailing along the brickwork, and then, when she had counted exactly one hundred paces, retraced her path with a hand on the opposite wall. It was time-consuming, unrewarding work, and she could feel every wasted second as it ticked away from her.

"This is ridiculous," she moaned. There were no childish tantrums this time, only a cold, sinking certainty that she had wagered herself in what was clearly a losing game. Perhaps there was no winning – perhaps, in the Goblin King's desire to have her to himself, he had closed off all other pathways, dooming her to wander the labyrinth's outside walls until her time had run out.

"No, I won't believe that." While she wouldn't put it past him to cheat, if it benefited his interests, he was as bound by the rules of their arrangement as she was. He had agreed to give her a fair chance, and if he had taken that away from her, then she would win by default. There was no way he would give himself over to failure so easily. While that at least settled the rising sense of doom in the pit of her stomach, it did nothing to ease her frustration. If only she wasn't faced with the same, seemingly endless path, with no landmark nor doorway to suggest an end to it. If only she could see further than her current position allowed, somewhere higher …

Cocking her head to one side, Sarah stared up at the wall beside her, considering. It was roughly twice as high as she was – a hell of a stretch, but if she could find a decent enough foothold, then maybe …

She found that the first couple of branches she found littering the ground were far too flimsy to hold her weight, long-dead, brittle wood that bent and cracked at the barest touch. The third one showed more promise. It was heavy, but reassuringly sturdy enough for the task she had planned. After a minute of two of struggling, she had managed to lift it and lean its end so that it was shoved firmly against the bricks, forming a sort of primitive ramp. She tested it with first one foot, and then, satisfied it would hold her weight, at least briefly, began to climb.

From that decent leg-up, she managed to grab a higher handhold than she would have managed from the ground, and fought to keep it by wedging the heel of one boot amongst the uneven bricks. She grinned briefly, at the thought of the great Goblin King, giving her such an unintended advantage, and then grimaced as she heaved her body upwards. She let out a triumphant little squeak as she slung her free arm across the wall's uneven edge, and then, after a minute of undignified scrambling, pulled herself up so that she was sitting atop it. Staring around her at this new vantage point, her heart soaring in her chest, she thought she understood what Hillary must have felt, when he had finally conquered Everest.

"I don't know why the hell I didn't think of this last time!"

From up here, she could see the castle, and her victory, finally, as a straight path, and only a matter of hurdles away. It would be hard going, strenuous enough to really leave her aching, but no more than getting lost would - back and forth, left and right, dead-end after dead-end. When she thought about the hours of wandering she had been through the last time, the choice was an easy one. Even if she wore herself out with the climbing involved, a few short-cuts like this would save her hours in the long run - and given the Goblin King's record for being a sore loser, she had a feeling that every second counted.

Bracing herself on her hands, she allowed her butt to leave the wall's edge, as her feet dangled down beneath her. She stretched her legs out until they could reach no further, and then, certain she was as ready for the fall as she could hope to be, she let herself drop the last few feet …

... only to land outside the labyrinth's massive outer door.

"Sarah."

Her confusion was brief, given the new threat of him behind her. She spun to confront him. "Why did you-"

"I believe our wager was for you to solve my labyrinth, rather than to scale it. It defeats the point entirely. Do I need to introduce a penalty for cheating?"

"You mean to say you've never cheated me?" Clearly, that irked him, and Sarah decided to push a little further. "Why, Your Highness," she cried, her tone dripping with mock-surprise. "Don't tell me you think it's unfair."

"Sarah, while I have shown infinite patience, and been most generous so far, I would advise you not to test me further."

Gone entirely was the sarcasm, that teasing thread that wound its way around his tone like silk. His words held a warning note that even she could not deny. In that moment, he was truly the imperious king she had seen in his moments of deepest displeasure – cold and aloof, exuding an air of unquestionable power and absolute dominance that made her stomach somehow twist in on itself.

Sarah swallowed. Hard. "I'll play by the rules," she told him.

"See to it that you do." In the blink of an eye, he was gone completely, leaving not even a speck of glitter or curl of smoke in his wake.

She hadn't realised quite how hard her heart was beating. "God …" she whispered.

"I'm flattered, Sarah, but not quite."

Or perhaps not entirely gone, after all. He would be watching; waiting.

Wanting.

"I would have thought a king would have things to do in his kingdom, rather than spending his time watching little old me traipsing around this thing," she muttered, to him, or perhaps just to the aether – she no longer knew.

His reply came directly into her right ear this time, making her gasp softly. "Word of warning, precious. If you intend on putting on any other little feats of mountaineering, I thought I might remind you that the gown you wear does provide the most enticing view - one more intimate than any crystal might gift a man with. If you weren't so charmingly persistent in trying to best me, one would almost think you intended it for my benefit."

Sarah felt her cheeks all but catch fire, and she flapped a hand at the offending ear, like she was trying to swat a bug. "How much did you get to see?" she demanded.

There was no reply after that, but she could just sense his smirk, now that he had most definitely gotten the last laugh – and, perhaps, the last glimpse.

And now, she had to start all over.

Oh, this was war.

With one last suspicious, murderous glance around her, Sarah pressed on, doing her best to focus on the path ahead – and only the path ahead.