AN: Hmm...you like the first chapter, no? Maybe you stay for the second....

Chapter 2

She watched as Jareth lost the game that he had won so many times. She hadn't counted on the girl being so spirited and fiesty. There simply wasn't any other explanation for it. No one had ever thought to enlist the help of Labyrinth residents to help them win. They had never bent the rules in such a manner. There really weren't any rules against what she had done. Nonetheless, it was still amazing. Many things had become amazing to her, the one who watched over Jareth.

His father had never been one to steal unwanted and wished away children, but Jareth had proved to be a different kind of king than his father. Time and his past had left him bitter and harsh, very unlike the way he had been when he was younger. He stalked about his kingdom, wrecking havoc on its inhabitants, just to make himself feel better. The only problem was that he never did feel better. He only felt numb. She had hoped that this dark-haired girl would prove to break the Goblin King out of his gloom. She knew that she had caught Jaresth's eye when she saw the white owl visiting the park nearly every day that the girl was there. Normal owls just didn't spend that much time awake during the day. When she saw the girl wish away her brother, she knew that she would be different. She was lost in her world of fairy tales and make-believe, the perfect thing for Jareth to make into a reality. She began to have an idea how perfect the girl was when she saw her enter a little antique shop shortly before her trip through the Labyrinth.

Sarah visited the shop often. It carried a large number of antique clothing and old costumes from shows that Sarah was familiar with. Her mother had frequented the shop when Sarah was a little girl, so she went there to try and capture a piece of that elusive figure from her past. She loved to run her hands over the soft fabrics of the costumes, taking in their smells and their feel. The store also carried a sizable number of costume jewelry. Nothing expensive, but unique pieces that had once sparkled and shone to make their owners proud. Sarah usually never looked at the rings and necklaces, passing them by for more tangible items. But on that day, a small golden band with a smooth pale stone appeared amongst the dusty reds and blues of the usual trinkets that occupied the case. It caught Sarah's eye immediately.

"How much for that ring?" She asked the shopkeeper.

"Ahh...I don't recall the price. Let me take it out of the case for you." With deft fingers, he slid a key into the lock and pushed the door open. Carefully removing it from the tray, he brought it in front of Sarah's dancing eyes. "Hmmm...I don't remember buying this piece. My granddaughter must have bought it when I was away last week. Darn it all, she forgot to price it. Well, I know that you come in here often, one of my best customers in fact. Why don't you just go on and take it. She couldn't have paid very much for it, seein's how it looks so new. Although, I have to say that I have never seen anything like it, old or new."

The a smile formed on the watcher's shadowy face as she saw the ring slide smoothly on to Sarah's finger. I knew it! Well, Em, I have done my part. Now it is up to Jareth to do his. Let's just hope that he isn't too caught up in his self-pity to realise what is staring him in the face.

She was also watching when Sarah had slipped the ring off of her finger to give to the old man that lived in the Labyrinth. Her mouth dropped open at the sight of the golden band dropping from sight and clinking delicately in the box. It couldn't have been more perfect had she planned it. She knew that the old man always showed Jareth the trinkets and junk that found their way into his wooden box, and then the Goblin King would immediately pick up on the ring, shining brightly among the tarnished and dusty things that he usually waded his way through. She could almost hear Emmaline laugh heartily as the whole thing took place. She knew darn well that it was time for someone to stop feeling sorry for themselves. And the sign of his queen finally showing up would be enough to make any one happy.

However, things did not bode well afterwards. Jareth was too occupied to see the old man when Sarah was still within the Labyrinth. He never had the opportunity to see all the plans that had taken so long to put into motion. The old man was sent away and told to come back later. The watcher knew that it could be several years before the old man remembered to show off his treasures again, and she could not risk jogging his memory a second time. All of her plans were ruined. Jareth was supposed to not only offer Sarah her dreams, but he would have known that she was the one that was meant for him, as evident of the ring that he had given so long ago to another. He would have been able to show Sarah what she meant to him, instead of being her ideal villain. He would have gone back to the way he was when he was young, before the ravages of time and being a king had jaded his perceptions. He would have realized that it was Em staring him in the face and telling him that he belonged with this girl.

Alas, even the best laid plans go awry.

* * * * * * * *

It had been a long ten years. Ten frustrating years for the watcher. She knew what she wanted to happen, but was powerless to do anything about it. She watched Jareth brood even more after Sarah had refused his offers, so drastically altered from his youth that he was not easily recognized, even by those that knew him as a child. The day Sarah married another was terrible. The watcher saw things that no one else had seen. She was there when Sarah had shooed everyone out of her childhood bedroom and took a sweeping glance around the room. Her expression was one of sadness and wanting. Her old music box came out of a drawer, wound, and played one last time as Sarah shut her eyes and let the music wash over her. The watcher knew what she was thinking about, for she had seen the dream encounter between Jareth and Sarah too. She knew that Jareth was looking at the whole thing through a crystal, she could feel his presence everywhere. She was surprised that Sarah had not picked up on it. Unstopped tears splashed down her cheeks as she slowly put away her childhood and faced her adult life. After the ceremony was over, the watcher slipped back to the Underground. She knew that he had watched the entire thing as well. She knew the scene that would be playing out in the castle at that moment, so she was not surprised to see Jareth with his head buried in his hands sitting on his throne, surrounded by smashed crystals and limping goblins. It would be useless to try and talk to him then, he would only get mad and say things that he would later regret.

And so the last ten years had been. He shut himself up in the castle, only to come out to take unwanted children and turn them into goblins. He neither saw anyone or summoned anyone to the castle. The goblins carried out his orders, and the kingdom fell to disrepair. The Labyrinth grew wild, becoming more and more difficult for travelers, who now had to deal with vines that had grown minds of their own, an outgrageous number of brownies that had learned how to change the very walls (even though the walls never needed much help in this department), not to mention those walls that had crumbled into a mass of heavy stone. The Goblin Kingdom became a joke within the Underground. 'The Kingdom without a King' was the laughing stock of everyone.

Everyone was going to be proven wrong if she had anything to do with it. It would be a stretch, but something had to be done. She hadn't attempted to talk to Jareth in a while. He knew that she would always be there when he called her, and she had been true to that. However, since Sarah's marriage, he hadn't bothered, preferring the solitude of his castle and his own thoughts. These thoughts ran through her mind as she summoned all of her power to become visible to him. She appeared in the throne room where she knew she would find him. Indeed, he was sitting as she knew he would be, lost in his thoughts, not even noticing her.

"Hello, Jareth."

He didn't look in her direction. Perhap he had seen her and just chose not to acknowledge her, "Just leave me alone, Muirin. I don't feel like having company."

"You don't have a choice. I'm here whether you like it or not." Stubborn man, as always.

That finally got a reaction out of him, "What is it that you want?"

She placed her shadowy hands on her hips, "I want to be alive again so I can kick some sense into that head of yours!"

Jaerth rose out of the throne, fire in his eyes. "Excuse me? Did you just call me an idiot?"

"No, but I was about to."

"You forget yourself, Muirin. I am still king here." His eyes were getting a dangerous gleam.

"What are you going to do, banish me? I'm dead. Your rules don't apply to me."

Jareth looked grim.

"Oh, for the love of all that is Fae, get off your high horse and talk to me as a friend. I've put up with your moping for a long time now, and I am sick of it! You've let the castle and the labyrinth go to ruin because you are too much into wallowing in self-pity to pay any attention. Look around you, Jareth. Would your father be proud of what you have become?"

"I've been doomed to live a life of solitude and loneliness. Why should I care what anyone else things?"

"I saw the way you looked at her."

"Who?"

"Sarah"

"Don't ever mention that name to me again."

"Why, because you want to forget your love for her as well?"

He looked at Muirin, confusion on his face, "How did you know about that?"

"I'm not blind, Jareth. Plus, I'm the person who knows you best. I know how you feel. It's perfectly natural to feel the way you do."

"I can't feel this way. I will not replace my love for Emmaline with my love for Sarah."

"You don't have to! There is room in your heart for both of them. I'm not asking you to forget. I want you to be happy while still remembering the love you shared with Em. You know that she wouldn't want you to mourn her forever."

At that moment, a goblin came tumbling into the room. Jareth turned towards the noise and nearly ended the poor thing's life. "What is it?"

Cowering in the nearest corner, the goblin found enough courage to speak the reason why he had disrupted his king, "Your Majesty, Magnus is here."

"What for?"

"He is here to pay his taxes."

"Oh very well. Show him in. You, I will deal with later." A smile played about her mouth as she disappeared from sight. Things were working out perfectly. She had hoped that the old man wouldn't be too far away from the castle when he would 'suddenly' remember that he had taxes to pay. She knew what was waiting to be discovered in the old man's wooden box, and she knew that Jareth wouldn't miss it either. He really had no idea what was about to happen to him....

Jareth sighed impatiently as he waited for the old man. His taxes had been forgiven years ago when he had grown too old and senile to earn money, but he insisted on paying anyway. Trouble was, he only remember to pay them every few hundred years. He had once been a brilliant and talenteed advisor for the court, even maintaining rooms in the castle. He had been invited to stay there after his retirement, but had politely refused, stating that he would no longer be a burden to anyone. He had left one morning to find a small but comfortable cottage in the Labyrinth, secretly placed there by the royal family just for him. He spent his days traversing the twists and turns, offering broken and sometimes puzzling advice to travelers, accepting any form of payment that they were willing to give. With these he paid his taxes, allowing the Goblin King to pick whatever of the clinking and glittery masses that he wanted.

Today was no different. Magnus slowly shuffled his way to the large table, wearing his ever-present bird cap, complete with a long and thin neck topped by a bony and featherless head.

"Good day, Your Majesty." The old man gave a deep bow.

"Good day, Magnus. I trust you have been well?"

"As well as can be expected from living on top of someone's head." came the reply from the bird-hat.

"Will you please be quiet? His Majesty was not speaking to you."

"You can't expect them to all talk to you. I am a great conversationalist."

Jareth looked annoyed. "You are both welcome here. Now, shall we get on to the taxes?"

"The taxes?"

"Yes, the taxes!" Shrieked the bird.

"Ah yes. You will see that I have many beautiful items. Lots of travelers wanting advice these days. Seems like everyone wants to get someplace."

As he spoke, he pulled a battered wooden box out of his cloak and sumped the contents upon the table. His old and withered hands ran over the bracelets, coins, rings, time pieces and other assorted bits of paraphanelia, causing a soft clinking sound to fill the room. Jareth usually paid no attention to this process, randomly selecting a few pieces here and there, then slipping them back into the collection when the old man wasn't looking. Today, however, his eyes were captivated by the man's hands running continuously over the trinkets until one of them caught his eye. It was a ring. A gold ring with a smooth pale stone.

His mother's ring.

Quickly he snatched it up, turning it over in his fingers and blinking in disbelief several times.

"Where did you get this?"

"Hmm? Oh yes. I can't quite remember. So many, you know..."

The bird rolled its eyes, "Will you listen to him? Of course he remembers."

"I beg your pardon, I do not remember!"

"Must I do all of the remembering for you? She had dark hair and a short ugly man she kept calling her friend."

"How long ago was this?"

"Not long, but what does time matter?"

"It matters quite a lot right now."

The old man had drifted off by this time. Jareth knew that he wouldn't get anything else out of the pair, so he left them for his chambers. It was the one place where he knew that he wouldn't be disturbed. He needed to sort out everything in his mind. What had Sarah been doing with this ring? How had she come to have it? How was it even in existence anymore? He conjured a very painful memory, one that included the last time he had seen his dear Emmaline alive. The ring had crumbled to dust, almost immediatly after touching her skin. Yet, here it was, whole and just the way he remembered it.

What did it all mean?