Author's note: Sorry for the delay! I hope you like it, and please review!

Jareth's castle was much larger on the inside than it seemed from the outside. Sarah followed Hoggle through hallway after empty hallway. Here and there, Sarah would notice certain details. The way the stone blocks were stacked, a certain carving repeated here and there, a mark like Jareth's pendant in some of the keystones. The craftsmanship was amazing: each stone fit above the other with perfect precision. Barely any mortar was used at all, so tight was the fit. Running a hand over one block, Sarah could see tiny chisel marks: each block had been hand-chiseled out of a larger stone.

"Who made this, Hoggle?"

"Who made what?" came the reply.

A conversation about Labyrinthine doors came to Sarah's mind. She would have to be more specific. "Who made this castle? Who built it?"

"Goblins. They don't call it the Goblin City for nothin'." Hoggle grunted his way forward, leaving Sarah to ponder his answer.

Goblins? The same goblins that raised an incompetent and disorganized army to prevent her from penetrating this very castle? Those tiny things? How? To her mind, it would be similar to children building the Great Wall of China: how could small and mischievous goblins build this huge and majestic castle? Again, Sarah remembered: all was not as it seemed in this place.

Ahead in the corridor Sarah could hear a din growing steadily louder. She and Hoggle came to a giant room housing a hundred or so Underground creatures. It was as if a busy village square had sprouted in the middle of Jareth's grand foyer. In one corner, dwarf-men like Hoggle pounded metal on dark anvils. In another corner, dwarf-women tended to the washing, hanging up sheets and oddly-shaped undergarments on sporadically placed lines. Nobody paid Sarah and Hoggle any mind as they passed through, and Sarah was grateful. If she were indeed the cause of the problems in the Labyrinth, then she was responsible for all that had gone wrong. She doubted she'd receive so peaceful a reception if they knew that.

The room was very bright, too bright to be lit solely by the one or two windows in the room. Looking upwards, Sarah found the source of the illumination: faeries. The ceiling was covered in bright green vines and vivid flowers, providing a beautiful and lush home for the hundreds of faeries housed therein. Indoor lighting: Underground-style, Sarah thought wryly.

Returning her gaze to its normal level, Sarah found herself face-to-face with a set of heavy, ornately-carved wooden doors. There weren't any handles or signs saying "push" or "pull." Judging by their size, Sarah'd need Ludo to open these doors.

"'Scuse me," said a voice from somewhere near Sarah's ankle.

Looking down, Sarah saw a tiny goblin, a child from the looks of it. Its green skin and big, brown eyes were topped with a mop of shaggy black hair.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't see you!" Sarah backed away and watched as the little goblin gave the doors a gentle push and they both swung open instantly. How odd. The doors had looked heavy, so Sarah had taken it for granted that they were. When would she learn her lesson?

The goblin-child shuffled through the doors and down the street before Sarah could say anything more. So, she shrugged and followed Hoggle again, this time out of doors and into the Goblin city. Despite the time that had passed in her absence, Sarah found herself remembering sites she'd seen briefly before. The houses really were quite quaint, almost like the mud-daubed, thatched houses of merry old England, minus the thatch. Low walls of the same quality stonework as in the castle ran alongside the roadways. Hoggle led Sarah along the main road, directly to the gates of the city.

The streets were dusty and deserted. All that was needed was a lone tumbleweed rolling along and it could almost pass for a western ghost town. The atmosphere was right: green-grey sky, dismal ambiance.

"Where is everyone?" Sarah asked.

Hoggle shuffled along for a few minutes before answering. "They're there. Most folk keep to their houses now-a-days, secret-like. Unnatural. Goblins normally aren't like that, but everyone's been actin' weird since the Labyrinth went funny."

Sarah didn't have anything to add. The gravity of the situation was starting to sink in. The changes in the Labyrinth, that she probably caused, affected everyone.

Before Sarah lay the ruins of a giant machine, a large pile of metal parts. She recognized the giant robot-like thing from her time here before, but she couldn't account for the state of the machine. Given the length of her absence, it should be rusted and corroded, maybe even coated in marauding ivy. Instead, the metal was still shiny, coated in a very fine layer of glittering dust. That didn't make sense. Sarah stopped walking, a sudden thought occurring to her. She turned to Hoggle.

"Hoggle, how long has it been since I was last in the Labyrinth?" Sarah waited for his response with bated breath.

Hoggle scratched his head with a stubby finger before answering. "'Bout eight months, I'd say."

Sarah was speechless. Eight months? Eight months! Eight months? How could that be? And yet, how could it not be? Aside from the malevolent changes in the Labyrinth, few things had changed. Hoggle looked the same. The castle looked the same. The city looked the same, minus the orange atmosphere and rowdy goblins. Jareth looked the same.

"Sarah?" Hoggle asked, concerned at the puzzled look on her face.

Sarah pulled herself together and said in a shaky voice, "Hoggle, I've been gone for eight years."

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It was too easy, Owl-Jareth thought. He'd made this journey a thousand times. Once he was out of the Underground, his wings took him directly to her home. A subtle touch of magic later and he was soaring in through her open window, landing in his fae form.

Her room was different, far different than he remembered. Before, the room had been brightly cluttered with the representations of her dreams. Toys, costumes, and vivid art had poured from every nook and cranny. Now, the only sign of those times were the odds and ends erupting from dusty boxes. It was as if she had tried to box up her dreams and forget them, but Jareth knew dreams had a mind of their own. They always came back to haunt you.

What else was knew? A stack of books lay in the corner, mostly texts he saw, but a few others stood out. "A Midsummer Night's Dream," and "Twelfth Night," among others. So, Jareth thought, she likes the bard. Another book lay on her desk, its plain cover deceptively innocent: The Labyrinth. Why, oh why, had he given her that book? On its own it had been harmless. He could have given it to her and at worst she'd have had another fantasy book for her collection. But he'd altered it, added to it, changed the details. And that had given her the tools to break his heart. To shatter his dreams.

Knowing it was silly but unable to stop himself, Jareth backed away from the book, fearful of its destructive power. He heard footsteps on the stairs. Heavy ones. Sarah's father. Showtime.

Jareth stood before Sarah's door, unmoving and quiet. In his hand, he held a crystal. The spell was cast, ready, and waiting.

The footsteps stopped on the other side of the door. Sarah's father raised his hand, ready to knock and ask if his daughter was ready to go car shopping. His hand stopped in mid air. Confusion passed briefly over his face as the spell took effect. Then he lowered his hand and shook his head, chuckling. "That's strange. I don't know what I must have been thinking. I almost thought Sarah was back and not still in South America. Ha!" And just like that, the story took root in everyone's mind, anyone who knew Sarah, had contact with her. Jareth had created the framework, presented the bottom line: Sarah was gone. Her father had supplied the details, the figures: she was still abroad, in…South America, was it?

One simple charm and her alibi was set. It would last until he undid it. Tonight, Sarah's family would laugh at her father's lapse of thought and dismiss it. When she returned, her absence would be explained and her life Aboveground would resume.

His task completed, Jareth used his time to investigate. The tension of his recent meeting with Sarah had him in no hurry to return Underground. Besides, if times inconsistencies continued, his time in the Aboveground would be no more than a blink in the Underground.

Looking around, Jareth tried to determine just how old Sarah was. When he'd last seen her, she was fifteen, almost sixteen. Now, she looked at least twenty, maybe even thirty. The books in the corner indicated some form of higher education, or perhaps it was the college diploma on the wall. So that meant at least four years, six actually, since she would have had to finish high school. So, twenty-one, twenty-two? The pictures around the room would have been helpful, save that none featured her. There were a few of a baby boy Jareth remembered: Toby. Well, some were of a baby boy, but most were of a boy, maybe seven, maybe even eight. Confound it! That would mean that for the almost-one year he'd just spent in the Underground, six, seven, maybe even eight years had passed Aboveground. But why? It didn't make sense!

And what the deuce was she doing in South America? Studies? Vacation?

Jareth continued to look about her room whilst pondering that question. Her closet was open, some of the hangers in disarray, as if she had packed quickly. Had she been hasty to return Underground? Eager? What exactly did Hoggle say to her?

So many questions, when he'd hoped to find answers. And then there was another one: on her beside table, beside a picture of her family, in front of a bottle of hand lotion, was a blue figurine that closely resembled …him. What did that mean?

He turned away from it, unwilling to continue that train of thought any further. He faced her closet again. Judging by the size of her rucksack, she'd packed lightly, and would be unprepared for the sometimes bitterly cold nights of late in the Labyrinth. Rather than rifling through her clothes like a thief, Jareth waved his hand and the whole lot disappeared, reappearing in a particular room in the goblin castle.

After once last glance around, Jareth decided that if he wanted answers, he'd have to go to the source. Her room guarded its secrets well. He jumped out the window, transforming into Owl-Jareth once more. Spreading his wings wide, he sailed away. One last stop, and then he'd return to the Labyrinth.

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Sarah was seeking answers of her own. She was wondering how in the bloody hell she had managed to get herself into this situation. What situation? Well, it started innocently enough. After her revelation about the time inconsistencies, she'd pushed that matter aside, deciding she'd ask Jareth about it later. She and Hoggle had continued their sojourn through the Goblin city. They had just rounded a bend in the road when she noticed them. Goblin children. Goblins were small and unmistakably short, but these goblins were children. How she knew, Sarah couldn't say; she just knew.

The goblin-children, all twenty or so of them, were sitting motionless in a dusty courtyard, looking utterly dejected. The sight went straight through Sarah's heart.

"What's wrong with those children, Hoggle? Why aren't they laughing and playing, or is that uncommon for children here?"

Hoggle looked at the goblin-children, his expression hard. "It is now."

Sarah understood: ever since the problems in the Labyrinth had arisen, he meant.

Hoggle continued. "Jareth met with the goblin Alderman, Ragnuk a few months ago. They banned all children from the Labyrinth, for safety like. And you see, perfectly safe, they are." He gave a mirthless laugh. "Only they don't have anywhere to play now their playground's off limits."

Sarah didn't mistake the bitter tone behind Hoggle's words. She'd developed a very soft spot for children. Call it reformed-big-sister syndrome; she hated seeing sad children. She had to cheer them up. What did goblin-children do for amusement? Chase chickens? Well, there certainly weren't any of those around. Did they chase each other?

Now that was a thought. Tag. If she could get them to play tag, it might cheer them up a bit, and it would give her a chance to burn off the nervous energy left over from her meeting with Jareth. So, she'd gotten the children's attention, demonstrated the game with a reluctant Hoggle, and then they were off.

At first, it had worked well. Remarkably well. The children had cottoned-on to the game quickly, running about trying to tag each other. Most had smiles on their faces; a few even laughed, their deep goblin voices complementing the sound of running feet perfectly. It was working beautifully. Then, at no particular time, conditions deteriorated.

One moment Sarah was watching a goblin-child named Vilha try and tag another she'd learned was named Oscar, and the next, she was trying to pry nineteen excited goblin-children off the unlucky "it"-goblin. Somehow, the game had reversed. Instead of the "it" trying to tag the other goblins, the other goblins had taken it upon themselves to decommission the "it." Before long, the goblin-children were more active than ever, but they were using their newfound energy to wage child-war on each other. Sarah tried pulling them apart, all to no avail.

Then they'd turned on her. She'd tried to run, but they'd charged her before she could even lift her foot. Sarah fell to the ground like Gulliver fell to the Lilliputians, only without the ropes. Instead, the goblin-children swarmed her like a hoard of angry ants. They stomped on her, pulled her hair, pulled off her shoes, while she squirmed in the dirt under them.

And then they stopped. Sarah opened her eyes to investigate the cause of her deliverance and saw the last person she'd have chosen to see her so humiliated: Jareth. Mirroring his actions of before, he extended his gloved-hand and she took it, using it to pull herself up.

When she was upright, she released his hand and began dusting herself off. A moment or two passed before she realized she was standing yet again in Jareth's throne room.

Jareth tried not to stare at her, really, he did. But he couldn't help it. Look at her! Her clothes were disarrayed, one shoe was missing, her hair was half out of its pony tail, and she was liberally smeared with dirt. Feeling a foreign emotion rising uncontrollably within him, Jareth decided to keep this meeting brief.

"You alibi is taken care of. Your rooms are ready. You'll find my housekeeper, Mrs. Chartha just outside those doors. Perhaps you would like to freshen up? Whenever it is amenable to you, we'll discuss just how you can help with the Labyrinth." Jareth was struggling to keep his face impassive.

Sarah noticed his lip trembling, and stood up straight. With dignity, she nodded and then thanked him, and then walked out of the room with her head held high and her back straight. Well, as straight as possible; her steps were uneven due to her missing shoe.

The doors opened as she reached them, and sure enough, a matronly goblin waited patiently outside the door. When Sarah reached her, the doors shut behind her, and she began to follow Mrs. Chartha. A sudden sound stopped her. Quietly creeping back to the door, Sarah put her ear to it and heard the unmistakable sound of Jareth's laughter.

She stood up quickly, indignation boiling within her. He was laughing at her! The nerve of that man! But then, come to think of it, it was pretty funny. Sarah looked down at her clothes, raised a hand to her hair. Actually, it was more than funny. And then she was laughing too, before she caught herself and followed Jareth's housekeeper to her room.

Jareth was laughing. He was laughing like he hadn't laughed in a long time. The sight of Sarah overwhelmed by goblin-children, her disheveled and bedraggled appearance, and her comical walk out of the room, trying in vain to maintain her dignity had pushed him over the edge. As soon as he'd closed the doors, he'd thrown his head back and let out the burst of laughter that'd been rising within him. He laughed until tears came to his eyes. When he was finished, he wiped his face and composed himself. Letting out one more chuckle, Jareth headed off to his study, a new spring in his step. Trust Sarah to break the tension between them so effectively.