Disclaimer:I own nothing. Especially not Labyrinth, dammit.

A/N:A great big "thank you" to all who took the time to review. Please keep them coming. They really do make writing this more enjoyable.

Chapter 3:

Seated behind the enormous desk in his private study, Jareth absent-mindedly nibbled at the breakfast his goblin housekeeper, Mim, had brought him as he read over a list of materials his workers were in need of for the renovation projects. It had been many centuries since the bachelor king had paid much attention to the state of his castle and grounds, and the current state of disrepair was astounding. The young goblins who had been living in his home, preferring to stay in the castle with him instead of their own cottages in the city, were a messy bunch, to be sure.

Chickens had roamed his halls freely, leaving behind feathers and other, less-pleasant, souvenirs. Kegs of ale sat about, collecting drunken goblins like flypaper. Dirty clothes and dishes piled up wherever the filthy little monsters had decided to leave them. Finally taking the time to look around, Jareth had been revolted. This would never do. His beloved would be returning soon, and everything must be perfect.

And so he had taken a firm hand, beginning a much-needed restoration for his castle and the surrounding grounds. The barnyard animals were all rounded up and returned to their proper places, as were the disgusting young goblins. They were now residing in their goblin city, given the job of cleaning the ramshackle little town. Their banishment had delighted Mim like nothing else in her long, long life. She had practically danced a jig when the foul little creatures had left, happy to be rid of the filthy horde who had made her life a living hell.

The house servants, dutiful little maids of the elf and goblin races, busily cleaned the immense palace from top to bottom, worked to exhaustion by the housekeeper. Her master was finally taking a wife! Mim was so deliriously happy that she practically glowed. Having worked for the Goblin King for centuries, she felt a sense of pride and importance that only a long-standing servant could understand. Her king was as beloved to her as if he was her own son, and their relationship reflected this affection. Jareth respected Mim and humored the sweet, bossy old goblin when she fussed and fidgeted over him.

Satisfied with the progress Mim and her workers were achieving inside, Jareth had made a list of projects that needed immediate attention outside on the grounds. These tasks were under the supervision of his new head groundskeeper, Hoggle. The dwarf had been promoted as a means to gain his cooperation in Jareth's plans for Sarah. The grouchy little man had not been very happy when his king had forbidden him from having any contact with Sarah, believing that the loneliness would help the girl to appreciate the life and friends she would have as his Queen. Hopefully it would encourage her to accept his next proposal. Sir Didymus and the beast, Ludo, had not dared to question his orders, obeying immediately and without resistance, unlike the belligerent dwarf who had grumbled and set up quite a fuss. But to the king's surprise, Hoggle had come around eventually, seeing that there was no use resisting any longer. Hoggle accepted the fact that his ruler would never give up the girl. Therefore, it wouldn't be wise to try to stand in his way.

Deep down, Hoggle himself wanted his friend back more than anything, too. He missed her every day, and he knew from his visits with her that she was not happy living Above. She'd always seemed so lonely and discontent, his shriveled old heart ached for her. It made him think that there was a chance that maybe she would be happier here with them, or so he wanted to believe. He still wasn't Jareth's number one fan, but he had developed a new respect for the Fae. He could see the changes that had taken place in the Goblin King after Sarah had left him, and it made Hoggle realize that his king wasn't as terrible and unfeeling as he had previously thought. Jareth really was in love with his friend. It was something that had softened the cranky dwarf towards the person he had always thought of as The Rat. The tenderness in Jareth's voice when he said her name. The way his peculiar eyes would glitter with emotion when he thought about her. Even Hoggle was touched by the obvious devotion.

And so the gardener of the gate had agreed to stop visiting Sarah Above, hoping that his king knew what he was doing. Their disappearance caused her pain, Jareth knew, but it was something that he would gladly make up to her in any way that he could. She would forget all her unhappiness once she was his wife. He would pamper her and dote on her for the rest of eternity. And to show his appreciation for his new ally, Jareth had stopped antagonizing the little guy over his name. It did take away a lot of his fun, but in the end it would be worth it. Besides... once Sarah was bound to him, he could still enjoy an occasional slip, couldn't he?

A sudden knock at the door drew the mismatched eyes away from his countless lists and blueprints. "Yes?"

As if his thoughts had summoned the groundskeeper, Hoggle entered, his old leather cap in his tiny hands. From the corridor outside, Mim could be heard yelling about gardeners and muddy boots. The dwarf made a rude gesture with his stubby fingers before shutting the door behind him. Amused, Jareth motioned the little man forward. "Good morning, Hoggle. Have you something to tell me?"

"Mornin', Majesty. I just came by ter tell ya that we finished the Queen's Garden this mornin'."

"Excellent, Hoggle! I am very pleased to hear it. I think we should go and have a look at it, shall we?" Jareth rounded the desk and grabbed hold of Hoggle's shoulder, transporting them both to the large, square garden that lay just off of the Queen's Drawing Room in the back of the castle.

Hoggle struggled to regain his footing, a wave of dizziness making his head spin. "I hate when you do that!"

Jareth was paying him little attention, though. He was too pre-occupied with looking at the beautiful garden around him.
Ten-feet-high hedge walls enclosed the large garden, creating a safe and private retreat for the Lady of the house. Smooth stone tiles paved the ground, their buff coloring making the perfect contrast for the verdant greenery and vibrant flowers that grew all about. Weathered marble benches and snow white statues glistened in the late morning sun. The king was very pleased with the results. It was obvious that Hoggle had poured his heart into this place, a gift for the girl they both loved.

"Well done, Hoggle. It is really rather remarkable. I never knew you had it in you, old boy."

Hoggle pretended to grumble at his king's teasing words, but the faintest blush could be detected among the crevices of his cheeks if one looked closely enough.

With a final clap on the back, Jareth left a proud Hoggle to his chores, heading for the large and sprawling stables. He decided to steer clear of the castle for awhile, knowing that Mim would be well into one of her cleaning fits. There was little peace to be found when the bossy old goblin was determined to clean around you where you sat. Greeting the elven grooms that were mucking stalls and filling troughs, he requested that his favorite steed, a large black Friesian named Pookah, be saddled. He needed to go out to the hinterlands, the lands that lay beyond the grounds of the castle, and a good ride would be just the thing. These fertile fields and forests stretched for miles, criss-crossed by numerous little streams, before they ended at the sea. It was there that his subjects tended their crops and orchards, as well as the plentiful livestock, supplying much of the foods that it took to support his kingdom.

Near the seashore, many workers would be gathered, busy setting up for the approaching festival of Midsummer's Eve. Litha, as it was still called among his people, was a very important time in the Underground. It was a celebration of the Sun and the fruitfulness of the land. It was also a sacred time for marriage rites.

With any luck, Jareth would be able to celebrate his own binding at the festivities. It was an optimistic goal, to be sure, since he had yet to win his fair maiden, but the king was nothing if not determined. He would do whatever it took to have Sarah for his wife, and he preferred to have it done by the end of the festival. Since that left him little more than two weeks, his stress level was rather high at the moment.

The truth was, Jareth didn't just want Sarah... he needed her. Due to an ancient blessing bestowed upon his bloodline, he had an obligation to marry and produce an heir. It was a matter of vital importance, one that he had let go for far too long. His preoccupation with the mortal girl had sidetracked him, something that his father, King Eremon, reminded him of almost daily. He knew in his heart that time was running out, and it made him desperate to secure the one person who could solve all of his troubles and make his greatest dreams come true. If Jareth didn't marry the lady of his choice soon, there was a great likelihood that the High King would demand an arranged marriage, if only for the begetting of the much-needed heir. This was not an option that Jareth was willing to entertain, since he wanted only one for his wife. Sarah.

As the High Prince, Jareth had been coveted by every unattached female among the Seelie Court. He had enjoyed the attention in the past, taking many of the courtiers to his bed when he'd felt the need for physical release. But he had no desire to marry any of the shallow women who chased after him for his titles and wealth. None of them had ever stoked the fires inside of him, not in any permanent way. He had always known that, in some other place, in some other time, he would find the perfect match for him, if only he was patient. And he had. His beautiful, feisty, maddening Sarah. He had no doubt that she was the one for him, and he would settle for no other. He simply had to have faith that his love, and the magic of the peach, would win her in the end.

After a brisk ride across the gorse-covered hills and open fields of the hinterlands, Jareth finally arrived at his destination. He spotted his good friend and trusted steward, Rheneus, supervising a group of workers as they continued building the large stone circles where his marriage celebration would take place.

"How go the preparations, my friend?" He asked, dismounting from Pookah's back.

The tall, graceful elf gave a respectful nod of his head, his long silver hair cascading over his broad shoulders. "Everything seems to be in order, Your Highness. The work is going smoothly, according to schedule. The circles will be finished in a day or so, and the sacred wood for the bonfires has all been gathered. The vendor's booths will be assembled over the next few days, as will the tables for the feasting. That just leaves the golden altar, which will be set up on the day of the ceremony, once the Priest and Priestess arrive." Rheneus looked over the list in his hand, making sure he had left out nothing of importance.

"You appear to have everything under control, then, my good man. It seems that the only thing I have left to take care of is getting the bride to attend the ceremony," Jareth replied, earning a hearty laugh from the handsome elf.

"Good luck with that, Sire," Rheneus said, a knowing smile lighting up his silver eyes.

Moving as quietly as a shadow, a cloaked figure emerged from the forest of skeletal trees that rimmed the clearing, making its way to the torchlit cavern where the others waited.

Motioning them to be seated, the cloaked one took the chair at the head of the scarred table and removed his hood, revealing long black hair that framed his handsome face. Filling a wooden goblet from the pitcher of wine that sat on the table in front of him, he took a generous drink of the sweet liquid, quenching the thirst from his travel.

"Well? What news have you brought?" asked the large blonde man to his right.

"Patience, Farin. I will gladly fill you in. I just need a moment to rest."

"What is wrong, Lorcán? Did you have any trouble?" This question was posed by the man to his left, a thin, weedy man with a bushy ginger beard and long red hair that hung in greasy braids down his back.

The handsome, raven-haired man shook his head before saying, "No, Mortin. I had no troubles. My contact was not able to meet at the designated place, so I had to venture closer to Jareth's castle than I would have liked. It took longer than I had anticipated, that is all."

"So what did your spy have to say? Did you get anything useful?" asked Drystan, his brother and second in command.

Lorcán smiled, a frightening display of his sharp, pointy teeth. Leaning back in his chair, he stretched his long legs, placing both of his feet on the table, crossed at the ankles in a gesture of casual ease.

"Oh, yes, Brother. I got something extremely useful. I got the exact location of the Key." Lorcán drained the rest of the wine from his cup as he waited for his companions to grasp the meaning of what he had said.

Farin let out an excited "whoop" before Drystan silenced him with a wave of his hand.

"So? When do we strike? The sooner, the better, I say."

Lorcán looked at his younger brother, amused by his uncharacteristic eagerness. Drystan was usually the quiet and reserved one of the group. His enthusiasm spoke of his desire to see their plans fulfilled at long last, a desire that they all shared.

"We make our move tonight, Brother. I would have preferred a little more time to prepare, but this may be the only chance our friend has to clear the way for us, so I think it best that we take it."

With that, Lorcán began to go over the details of his plan with the others, certain that their time for revenge had finally come.

And so ends this installment of Spellbound. Tune in next time for more action, adventure and romance...

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