Chapter 1: A Change in the Wind

Jareth sat lazily on his throne, one of his legs dangling over the arm of his chair as he held the large crystal-glass orb in his hands, spinning it around to examine the images before him before hurling it to shatter against the wall. "Years have gone by!" He cried, standing and throwing up his arms in aggravation, oblivious as to any goblins that might have dared been near him. "What sort of spell has she cast, why am I never free of her face?" His arms fell back to his sides as he fell back, slumping in his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose with one hand and, invisible to any onlooker, fighting back tears. Three years of living with her rejection, filled with anger and heartbreak, all he ever did was forcibly shove the thoughts away.

"The king is watching her again," the smallest goblin said, not daring to say her name as it turned to face the others, all of which huddled behind the door, eavesdropping.

An old goblin looked up, white hairs sprouting from the top of its wrinkly head and sighed, a goblin that somehow contained a bit of selfless sorrow for his king. "He'll never change."

"But something has to." The first goblin looked into the room again, more concerned over the goblins' living conditions than their king's stability, before glancing at the other goblins and, with a nervous sigh, leading them into the room. "Your Majesty," it began slowly, cringing slightly at his disdainful look, "we would like to see you at your best again and, and, and," he spoke faster as he saw Jareth prepare to yell, "we feel that perhaps you should host a ball, a masquerade and… she might come if you invited her." The nervous goblin's courage left him as he dropped his eyes to the ground, curling his body away from Jareth lest he decide that he should kick them into walls. Jareth tapped his leg repeatedly with his riding crop, a soft –slap!- echoing through the room each time he did so, his head leaning onto his left fist in contemplative, brooding thought.

"It's brilliant!" He jumped up, grabbing one of the goblins and throwing it up in the air in his excitement. His eyes flashed with joy as he had clearly convinced himself of the probability that Sarah would come. "Well get started right away," he snapped, "invite everyone you can find in the other kingdoms! And the dress…" he slowed in quiet thought, sinking back slowly in his chair while fondly remembering the short and bittersweet time Sarah was in his labyrinth, the shorter still time that he held her in his arms. Assuming his orders were finished, most of the goblins scurried out of the room, some to complete his demands, others simply to get drunk.

* * *

Sarah walked across the bridge with her friend, strands of their hair picking up and flowing in the gentle breeze behind them. "Hmm," she mused, crossing her arms to lean on the stone wall, "I used to spend so much time here. I'm surprised how little this park has changed. Merlin wouldn't even notice the differences." Sarah looked down at the water, quiet in remembrance of her shaggy dog.

"But he would love it regardless," her friend stuttered over the words, unsure of how to pull Sarah back to safer emotions, and always worried about when she thought back to Merlin. It had been little over a year since he died, but Sarah reacted as if it was the last she could take sometimes. Sure, she and Meg were the best of friends, but Merlin had been the only magic in her life. "Sarah, he's happy." She leaned against the stone wall as well, her short blond hair slanting over her eyes as she leaned forward over the water, trying to study Sarah's face from her reflection. "Sarah?" Meg said tentatively, "Sarah, I know you really loved him, but you have to get used to him being gone. I'm sure he would be much happier if you did, he always cared about you." Then she lightened up, sensing Sarah's mood lightening and stepped back, lightly punching her shoulder. "Hey, just think of how many hours he spent sitting here with you as you read a book!"

Sarah laughed, turning to face Meg, her lower back pressing against the bridge as the laugh started to sparkle in her dark eyes. "I was not reading!" She defended herself, "I was…acting."

Meg laughed. "Yeah, of course." She rolled her eyes at her friend, the two of them resuming their meandering walk to Sarah's house. "It's called role playing, if anything though you usually don't do it by yourself." Meg waited a few seconds before asking Sarah. "What was that book you used to read anyway? You've told me about it, but I think that's the only one of yours I've never read."

"Oh," Sarah said, brushing a dark lock of hair behind her ear, a shock issuing through her. "It was called," she recomposed herself, still looking ahead as the two walked, "the Labyrinth, it's very good." Her eyes seemed to gaze past their path as she remarked, "It was my favorite."

Meg pouted, teasingly. "And you never let me read it? I mean, I'm surprised you didn't force me to if it's that good. What's the matter—"

The two began to speak at the same time, Meg still jokingly, but Sarah with a deep hint of seriousness. "too good to share?" And, from Sarah, "It's a very personal story."

Her friend stopped, tilting her head, the short hairs not moving except for the ones that hung over her face, and she shook them away with feigned annoyance. "Personal?"

Sarah looked up at her, forcing a small laugh. "I meant—it's special to me. I could never give it up."

The water beneath them began to ripple slightly with the light drops of a drizzling rain. Both girls looked up, not expecting a shower, and the drops remained lights as they landed on their face. "Guess we should head back," Sarah said, and no sooner had the words left her mouth before the gentle rain turned into fat drops pelting the ground, and soaking everything they could touch.

"Oh god!" Meg shrieked, grabbing Sarah's wrist as both girls began to sprint back to their houses, each desperately trying to cover their heads. Sarah screamed in somewhat of excited delight as a car swerved around them, nearly having hit the two, and their clothes became heavy with rain until they began to slow their sprint to a fast walk. They were still a block from Sarah's when goose pimples prickled from their arms down their chests and legs, their hair sopping and dripping rain onto the already coated sidewalks. Meg wasted no time sprinting up Sarah's porch steps. Sarah, however, paused; spinning slowly around herself to look at every possible space someone could hide. She could distantly hear Meg near screaming at her, "Sarah, what the hell are you doing!?" but she ignored it, her neck prickling with the unsure feeling of someone being watched.

"I just—" she said slowly, unsure of how to explain the strange feeling she had in her stomach. "I feel like someone's…watching me." She glanced around at the foliage, staring from under her eyelashes at a small white owl that was perched on a nearby tree branch. Its large, dark round eyes bored into her own and sent a cold shiver down her spine. Meg jogged down to Sarah, braving the rain once more and tilting her head to follow Sarah's gaze.

"It's just an owl," she chastised her; "it's probably trying to get some shelter. You know, get dry, like any sensible creature would. Now I suggest we follow its example!" Her teeth were starting to chatter, and her hands were furiously rubbing her arms, but to no use, no warmth was being created between the freezing fleshes.

Sarah's eyes still watched the owl, its dark eyes growing less cold to her and she began to see it with a sort of silent fascination. Meg tugged at her sleeve, and her feet began to follow her, even if her face was still turned to the creature. "Yeah," she muttered, allowing herself to be dragged towards the house, "sure. Inside."

When Meg pushed the door open, a rush of warm air greeted them, and Sarah instantly forgot the strange creature, the sudden comfort enveloping her. Both of them quickly greeted Irene before racing up the stairs, Irene calling to them to remind Sarah she was supposed to baby-sit Toby that evening, to which Sarah yelled back with a simple, "I know!" Sarah pushed the door to her room open, shivering and shaking some of the rain drops off her shoulder as she pulled the wet, sticky shirt off her back. She yanked a drawer open, rummaging through its contents. "Can you stay over?" She turned her head to see Meg's face over her shoulder, "It'll be easier, I'll just give you warm pajamas, and you won't have to walk the rest of the way in that storm." Meg seemed to pause a second, and Sarah baited her with more, "We can have a movie marathon."

Meg grinned, hooked at Sarah's final offer. "I don't think my mom will mind, I'll call her." She tried to peer over Sarah's shoulder, starting to peel off her own sopping clothes and happily awaiting a fluffy, warm pair from Sarah. Extracting a pair of pink pants adorned with cows and a plain black tee shirt, Sarah threw the clothes to Meg, who gratefully pulled them on and hugged her arms across her chest, urging more warmth into herself as Sarah found a pair for herself, red with penguins and a plain tank top.

Sarah grabbed her brush off her vanity, nodding her head towards the door so that her and Megan could go to the bathroom to properly dry their hair. Walking through the hallway, Toby ran up to them, wearing only a pair of toddler-sized smiley-faced boxers. "Sarah!" He yelled in excitement and, spotting Megan, "Meg!" He threw his short pudgy arms around Sarah's and Meg's legs in turn, nearly knocking the two of them down as his fists hit their knees in his fond, if dangerous, embrace.

"Hey," Sarah dropped to his level, grabbing his face carefully in her hand. His bright blue eyes glowed as he stayed watching her face, his shaggy golden hair falling around his face. "How's about you go get a comfy pair of pajamas on. Mom and Dad are going out," she informed him, "and if you get a cool enough pair on, I might let you watch movies with me and Meg."

"Okay!" He exclaimed, turning and disappearing like a tornado down the hall and into his room.

Meg laughed, the two pushing the door open, and Sarah plugged the hair dryer in, handing it first to Meg who only needed it a few minutes with her boy-ish haircut. As she expected, Meg handed it to her in less than two minutes, using her fingers to stroke all the hairs back into place as Sarah ran the brush through her hair, relishing in the heat of the hair dryer against the still-damp skin of her neck.

Laying the hair dryer down, Sarah unplugged it, and the two both made their way down the stairs, following their noses to Irene's kitchen. They pulled open the microwave to see nothing, and instead found chicken nuggets waiting for them in the stove. When the stove slapped shut again, Irene's voice echoed down to them from where she was getting dressed in her room, "Save some of those for Toby!"

Sarah carefully made Toby a plate, putting ketchup in the little ear of the animals plate he loved, and getting regular plates for her and Meg, bringing hers and Toby's into the living room as she switched on the TV, putting them onto the coffee table and rifling through their video collection. "What do you want to watch?" She asked Meg, who had long since memorized everything Sarah's family had.

A chicken nugget in her mouth, she seemed to be thinking, chewing over the meat and swallowing it as she answered, "How about we watch Peter Pan, so long as Toby stays down with us.

Pulling it off the shelf, Sarah began to fiddle with the VCR, opening the over-sized case and blowing into the tape, just to clear it of any dust it might have accumulated. "Toby!" She called, and he came charging down the stairs, adorned in Spider-Man pajamas.

"Are these good enough?" He asked, his eyes pleading.

Meg fought back a laugh, and Sarah let a small one escape at his eagerness, but grinned at him. "Yes Toby, your dinner's on the table, let's go." She rushed behind him, tickling his sides and he burst out giggling, crawling onto the couch between the two and shouting excitedly, "Peter Pan!"

Over his head, Meg mouthed a smug but smiling, 'I told you!' to Sarah, who swatted the idea away with her hand, turning her head towards the frozen screen and hitting the triangular play button. The classical, orchestra music seemed to blast from the speakers, and Sarah turned it down to a more acceptable level and Mr. Darling had only just entered the nursery when their parents left, calling their good-byes to the children and sealing the door behind them.

When the pirates finally began to fight the Lost Boys, Sarah moved to cheer in her enthusiasm, finally noticing Toby's sleeping leg on her lap. "Ooh," she quieted herself, glancing at Meg to silently will her not to speak either. "Sorry about that. Some baby-sitter I am," she scolded herself, her mind flashing back to her worst mistake as a baby-sitter, but moving on quickly. "I'll take him upstairs, and then we can watch anything."

Sarah wrapped her arms around Toby, gently cradling him against herself and she stood slowly, careful not to disturb him. Leaving the room, she heard Peter Pan pause and knew Meg was getting up, following behind her to put Toby to bed. She threw back his covers, laying him down gently, and sliding them back up, tucking him in while she gently kissed his forehead, her hand brushing back the hairs that hung over his face. "Let's go pick something," she whispered to Meg, easing the door shut.

"Rocky!" Meg hissed in an excited giggle, throwing her arms up.

Sarah rolled her eyes at her, going back to her room to get them both a change of clothes yet again and, once the door was closed behind them, ensuring Toby wouldn't awake, Meg started to sing while Sarah opened her secret drawer, not so much from her parents, but to keep Toby from finding articles such as…garter belts and other lingerie. "It's just a jump to the left!" She exclaimed, jumping to her left and landing and bouncing on Sarah's bed, knocking over a few of her perfectly-positioned pillows. Throwing a few carefully selected items onto her vanity, Sarah began to brush out her hair again, freeing it of the frizz it had acquired after drying while Meg curiously examined something she had found placed regally on one of the pillows.

"Sarah, what's this?" She asked, delicately holding the heavy parchment between her fingers.

Sarah half turned, the brush stroking her hair as she looked over to see what Meg had. Shrugging her shoulders, she answered, "I don't know."

"It has your name on it," Meg said, turning it over to see the other side, "it looks like some sort of invitation." She narrowed her eyes at the paper. "That's odd," she muttered.

"What's wrong?" Sarah asked, not turning as she tore off her pajama pants and pulled on a vivid red garter belt.

Meg flipped to the other side of the postcard-sized paper again to make sure she wasn't missing it. "There's no address here, only your name."

"Hmm," Sarah mused, "Irene or my dad must have put it in here, somebody probably dropped it off. Read it."

"Sure," Meg agreed quickly. "Boy," she said, more to herself this time, "this is very fancy. The writing's almost calligraphic and it looks like—ink, like from a feather pen—anyways, it says: 'You are cordially invited to a Masquerade Ball at the Castle." Here Sarah paused, sliding on a fishnet, and stared at Meg, as if unable to believe what she were saying, but Meg continued, not noticing as she were facing the other side of the bed. "The celebration is to begin at ten o'clock this evening, and I anxiously await your arrival. Eternally yours, Jareth. Sarah, what is this?" Meg laughed, "Come on; tell me this is a joke."

But Sarah stopped her dressing, stumbling forward to rip the heavy parchment from Meg's hands. "There's no way," she whispered to herself. "This isn't possible."

"Sarah, what is it?" Meg asked, slightly concerned this time, and rolling out of the way just in time to avoid being sat on by Sarah as she dropped on the bed, her eyes gazing somewhere far-off again.

She shook her head, doing her best to clear it, and pulled her legs up, wrapping her arms around them which proved a rather odd feeling when only one leg had fishnets on it. "I had started to think it was all just a dream," she admitted, more to herself then Meg.

"Sarah, what's going on?" Meg demanded.

She released her legs, folding them beneath her Indian-style and spinning herself to face Meg. "Do you promise to believe me?"

Meg felt a sense of apprehension, but laughed all the same, disciplining herself. "Of course," she promised, "I believe everything else!"

Sarah grinned a little, remembering how every time she would insist on something having happened, only Meg would believe her wild stories. Or at least pretend she did for Sarah's own sake. "Meg, that book, The Labyrinth…it's personal because it's about me." Meg stopped smiling, sliding back a bit in surprise and started to talk, but Sarah cut her off. "No, Meg, please listen. I'm sorry, and this sounds weird, but it's true. Just let me explain." Sarah's eyes flickered over to the clock on her wall, which read a quarter of ten as she started her story. Meg listened to the entire tale, doubtful at times, but always listening and when Sarah finally finished, Meg sat quietly, contemplating.

"Well?" Sarah raised her eyebrow nervously but questioningly, somewhat afraid that Meg may lock her up in some asylum.

Meg licked her lips then looked up at Sarah from beneath her light eyelashes. "What? I don't know."

Sarah smacked her arm. "Don't do that! Do you believe me?"

"Oh," Meg waved away her concerns with an air of nonchalance. "Of course, I promise I would. How could I not? The proof is right there in your hand."

Sarah glanced down at the invitation she still held, dropping it onto the covers as if it were ready to bite. She laughed a little to herself, relieved Meg still thought she was stable, but curious nonetheless. "What was that surprise for then?"

Meg's eyes fell to the invitation once more before she looked at Sarah again, answering despite the fact Sarah had probably just figured it out. "I thought you were asking me if you should go." Sarah didn't answer, quietly fiddling with her garter straps. "Sarah," from what you told me, it wounds worth it." Now Sarah began to shake her head, as if in refusal, but lacking the proper defiance.

"I can't do this. I'm not ready for this."

"But you did it before!" Meg reminded her. "And this says it's a ball. No labyrinth. What harm could possibly come from it? From what you told me, he doesn't sound like he's out to get you."

Sarah's head whipped up. "But I wasn't ready then, either. I just had to save Toby! And Meg, terrible harm could come! You don't know Jareth, he—" Sarah stopped, looking down at her hands with her realization. She hadn't been hurt at all in the labyrinth. Every dangerous situation she was in—there had been a narrow escape. One lucky coincidence after another. "He would protect me," she finally mustered.

Meg reached a hand out to gently touch Sarah's arm. "Sarah," she gazed at her with big eyes, worried over her friend's sudden weakness, "If you ask me, I'd tell you that neither of you really knew what was going on. But maybe it's worth giving him a chance, Sarah."

After a moment's hesitation, Sarah's fingers folding and unfolding the edges of the paper, she smiled weakly at Meg. "I guess you're right." She grinned, slightly excited as she began to realize that she might see her friends again, friends that she hadn't seen in years.

Her friend gave her a small, somewhat triumphant smile. "I'll take care of Toby," she assured Sarah, then glanced to her closet. "So….," she tried to lead into her excitement without giving away much, "what are you going to wear?"

Sarah's eyes slid to look at the closed door and a smile tugged at her mouth, bits of joy sparkling in her eyes as she realized that it was the perfect opportunity to wear any costume she chose. She needed something…special. She didn't want some regular outfit that she wore to play all of the time, she wanted something magnificent. Grinning at Meg, she shoved herself off the bed and rushed to the closet, her fingers resting lightly on the little hole in the door before she pushed it open.

The skirt of the gown fell out in marvelous waves, the silvery-white layers forming a cloud near her feet. "Oh my god!" Meg gushed, jumping up and stopping just short of Sarah's back to admire the outfit. "Where did you get that?"

Her familiar fingers on Sarah's shoulder and elbow snapped Sarah back from her daze, causing her to reach an unbelieving hand out, her fingers trailing down the dress and feeling the intricately made garment. "Him," she whispered, somewhat amazed.

Meg's eyes flowed along the ballroom gown. "Sarah, I think you really misjudged him," she decided, astonished by its magnificence. Snapping back to reality, she looked at the clock. "It's a quarter past!" She squealed, "Let's get you on your way!" She reached forward and grabbed the hanger the dress was hanging from, extracting it from the closet and pulling Sarah back to the bed. "Hurry up and change!" She urged her.

Within a few minutes, Sarah had removed the garters and fishnets and Meg was tightening the back of her corset for her. "It seems—I forgot—how hard—it is—to breathe!" Sarah managed through her gasps for air, a delicate hand over her breasts as if to ensure she was still inhaling properly. Rushing now, as it was twenty past, Meg brushed out Sarah's hair, and tied it up in a quick, but beautiful twisting bun, one curled lock of hair hanging down over her shoulder in a traditional Beauty-and-the-Beast look. Stepping back, Meg admired her handiwork, and then frowned. "How are you getting….there?" She asked.

Sarah paused, frowning slightly as well and sat back on her bed, unable to figure it out. "I'm not quite sure," she admitted, her eyes flickering around the room for a clue. A sadness crept into her, as if it had all been a trick, when her eyes settled on a doll that looked remarkably similar to Sir Didymus. "The mirror!" She jumped up, pulling the chair away from her vanity to peer into its depths, her own face reflected.

"Hoggle!" She called, "Ludo, Didymus! I need you!" She waited a minute, still slightly crestfallen when she began to hear someone talking and the mirror image suddenly fogged, revealing not her own face but Hoggle's. "Hoggle!" She greeted, overjoyed to see him.

"Sarah! What took you so long?" He grumbled.

She shook away his complaint, somewhat impatiently, a sort of anxiety building inside of her. "Hoggle, I need your help. How do I get back into the labyrinth."

"What?"

"Hoggle, I have to come over there. How do I get back?"

He gave her a funny look. "I suppose you're going to that party for Jareth."

She nodded, gnawing her lip and he shook his balding head at her, the white tufts of hair sticking out from under his hat. "I'll never understand you." He looked back up at her again, and she saw his hand come up, looking as if it pressed against the glass. "Touch my hand, and just imagine yourself looking into your room, from over here."

She was unsure, and glanced back at Meg, who nodded at her encouragingly and brought her own hand up, her thin fingers gently spreading across the glass as she pressed her palm on the glass between her and Hoggle. Closing her eyes, she imagined the image in the mirror changing, to reflect another world behind them, and to see her room as if far away.

"Sarah?"

She blinked, opening her eyes and realized she could feel Hoggle's tough skin against her own soft white hand. "Hoggle!" She exclaimed, hugging him. "It worked, thank you so much!"

He grumbled at her, obviously still a bit touchy she had never called for them in the three years she was gone. "It's no problem. Now go, go!" He urged her, "Before you get Jareth mad at me!"

She grinned, throwing her arms around him quickly before turning on her dainty heels, her hands clutching bunches of the enormous skirt, and rushing up the stairs to the castle, using all of her body weight to press the enormous doors open. To her surprise, nothing greeted her but an empty hall, the same barren one she had run down to save Toby, but she forced the memory away, doing her best to remember Meg's words. Her ears picked up the sound of instruments coming from an opening in the hall, and she turned, hurrying down it to look for the source of the enchanting music