Author's note: Standard disclaimer still applies. Please review!!

Sarah awoke, amazed to find that she was already sitting up, her left arm outstretched, grasping for something in the empty air. What had she been dreaming of? Oh, yes, I remember. She'd been dreaming of Jareth. But this time, instead of a pleasantly physical dream, she'd had a bit of a nightmare. It wasn't frightening or scary, just sad. He'd stood before her, just out of reach, barely visible in a swirling fog, pleading for her to come to him. 'Come back to me, Sarah. Come back to me,' her dream-Jareth had repeated over and over, his tone becoming increasingly desperate and heartrending. She'd tried to go to him, tried to run towards him, tried to catch him in her embrace, but she couldn't ever reach him. The distance between them remained the same no matter what she did, and all the while his pleas for her to 'Come back to me, Sarah,' continued. Sarah put a hand to her cheek and felt the moistness of fresh tears. It felt so real – and I couldn't do anything to ease his pain. She shook her head: it was just a dream. It wasn't real. But Sarah couldn't shake the unease it stirred within her.

She threw back the covers, knowing she'd never get back to sleep. Pulling on a robe to ward off the room's chill, Sarah found a thin taper, which she lit using the banked fireplace. Cupping her hand protectively around the fragile flame, Sarah walked over to her desk and lit a candlestick. Once she had enough light, she sat down and pulled a sheet of stationary towards her.

It'd taken some time to get used to a quill and ink; the great blots on her first few pages of attempts were pitiful, and she'd tossed them into the fire. She was getting better, but her script wasn't anywhere near as elegant and flowing as Jareth's. Of course, she hadn't had a thousand years of practice. Nor am I likely to get it, she added. Settling her thoughts, Sarah began to write. She'd been keeping a list of facts and information, purely for personal reference, on the off chance it might come in handy. So far, she'd written a brief description of each day she'd spent in the Underground, and then she'd listed several interesting points. So far, she'd written about how the goblins had built the castle, how Sir Didymus and Jareth were over a thousand years old and had fought a war together, and that Hoggle was in love. She'd also kept a diary of her dreams, although her wording was deliberately vague lest someone should read it. She couldn't imagine what she'd do if Jareth found out that she'd dreamed about snogging him! Still, some of what she recorded was bound to come in useful somewhere down the road, and even if it didn't, it gave her something to do.

Sarah finished her last line 'Despair. Overwhelming sadness, loneliness. 'Come back,' repeated. Unable to reach him. Awoke before resolution of dream.' That done, she put the quill down and fanned the paper in the air a few times, blowing on it as she did so, to dry the ink. Out of her window, she could just make out the first traces of dawn. Pale beams of light illuminated a few of the Labyrinth's walls, and Sarah was hit by a sudden feeling of restlessness.

The day has started! I need to go. We need to go. I need to go to the Labyrinth, to be inside its walls. Why aren't I there already? The thoughts gushed through Sarah's mind, a torrent of uncontrollable imperatives. The need to return to the Labyrinth was a tangible pull, an unavoidable call which Sarah rushed to obey. She was half-way out of her robe before she came back to herself. Whoa, Nellie. I have to wait for Jareth, and he's not likely to be awake at this Godforsaken hour. Calm down.

Sarah tried to. She first took a bath to kill the time, and then she spent an eternity choosing an outfit to wear, but still the sun hadn't broken the horizon. When she was dressed, Sarah paced, walking back and forth in front of the window, checking the sun's position every minute. Was it just her, or did the sunrise appear particularly hesitant this morning? It was almost as if it dreaded what the day might bring, and was drawing out the long wait before the inevitable. Sarah returned to her pacing, wringing her hands together. She couldn't explain where her nervous energy had come from; it didn't have a logical source. All she knew was that the sooner she was inside the Labyrinth, the better.

Finally! The sun rose high enough to bathe the realm in a pale, morning light. Sarah didn't bother waiting for breakfast – she was too wound-up to eat anyway. She simply turned her feet in the direction of Jareth's study, hoping to find him awake and ready to go. Determinedly, Sarah knocked on the door and listened for a reply. Instead of telling her to come in, Jareth opened the door.

Sarah, as wound-up as she was, still noticed straight-away that he was wearing the same things he wore last night: Jareth hadn't been to bed. Suddenly she felt torn, pulled between two mutually exclusive but imperative choices. Jareth had to be exhausted, and he'd have to rest for a few hours at least before they could leave. But Sarah had to go now. She couldn't wait an hour; she could barely contemplate waiting ten minutes.

Jareth was surprised to see Sarah so early, and greeted her warmly, if wearily, before noting the desperation and anxiety written in her face. He pulled the door wider, inviting her in wordlessly. Instead of taking the proffered chair, Sarah paced nervously in front of the window.

Jareth watched her, worried by her frantic motions. "Sarah? What is it? What's wrong?"

She continued pacing as she responded, "I don't know; I don't know what happening to me, but I have to get to the Labyrinth. I just have to, and it has to be soon."

Jareth watched her pace, and noted how caged she looked, how trapped. "How soon?" he asked warily.

"Ten minutes. Five. Now. As soon as possible." Sarah continued her pacing, glancing out the window every few seconds. Jareth was loath to go. He knew how the Labyrinth had penetrated her mind before, but he'd thought that while she was within the walls of his castle and his city, she'd be safe. Now it seemed the Labyrinth had invaded her thoughts once more to make her come willingly to it, and that would mean that she was right: the Labyrinth did want Sarah. And that put Jareth on his guard. Giving the Labyrinth what it wanted might appease it for now, but what if it asked for more?

Jareth took another look at Sarah, and saw how the desperation was making her…well…desperate. She couldn't stop moving, nervous energy making her edgy and agitated. He had to put an end to it. "Give me five minutes, Sarah, and we'll go. Five minutes." He waited for a sign that she'd heard him, and then he vanished.

Reappearing in his chambers, Jareth stripped immediately and hastened into his lavatory. Throwing cold water on his face, he tried to clear the fog from his mind. The problem was he was just so tired. Tired from want of sleep. Tired from the Labyrinth. Tired from the darkness. Tired from all the unexpected problems. He was simply tired. Last night had been perfect. Sarah had been lovely, he'd managed to keep from making too much of a fool out of himself, and when he'd bidden her goodnight, he'd returned to his chambers, confident he'd sleep well that night.

Unfortunately, when he was two steps from his door, he'd heard the call.

"I wish the goblins would take you away right now." The voice had reverberated in his skull, reminding him of his duties by giving him a throbbing headache. He'd vanished on the spot, summoning a glamour to appear as the all-powerful Goblin King, before presenting himself in a shower of magic to the wish-caster.

It had been a young woman, not much younger than Sarah was now, although she was drastically different from how Sarah had been when she'd wished Toby away, in both appearance and demeanor. Sarah had been impetuous, dramatic; the typical misunderstood and overly-put-upon teenager. She hadn't acted out of malice, or ill-intent. She'd simply felt hurt herself, and had lashed out at what she had mistakenly thought was the source of her pain. The moment he'd actually taken the child, she'd been repentant, remorseful, and sorry. He'd even given her the chance to not run the Labyrinth, to forget about Toby, to live in a world where her younger brother didn't exist, with the added bonus of having the power to see her dreams. Those were two things he'd never offered to anyone before. He'd never offered anyone their dreams before, and he'd certainly never offered to give a wish-maker a way out – that wasn't how the game was played. The wish-maker had to attempt the Labyrinth; they had no choice. Jareth had changed the rules for Sarah. He'd done many things for Sarah, but that was beside the point. The point was that she had been given a way to erase her mistake, to pretend it had never happened, and to have a special power, but Sarah had turned it down. Repeatedly. Sarah had been truly sorry for what she'd done, and she'd been determined to set things right.

Not this woman. This woman was not sorry. This woman had the gall to be relieved that her child had been taken, and Jareth had seethed at the thought. When he appeared before her, she'd been relaxing upon a couch, wine glass in hand, with no thought in her head of the screaming three-year-old girl she'd just wished away. He'd put an end to that rather quickly, informing her of the rules of the Labyrinth, of which there was only one: she had to try to get through the Labyrinth, to get to the castle beyond the goblin city, to take back her child. She had thirteen hours before her child became part of the Underground forever. If she didn't compete, she would become part of the Labyrinth herself: a goblin, a statue, a gnarled-tree…his magic wasn't very particular. Jareth had pointed her in the direction of the Labyrinth, just outside her front door, and then he'd vanished, unwilling to remain in her company a moment longer.

Perhaps it was reckless of him, to send someone into the Labyrinth while the darkness still remained. But the darkness hadn't shown any sign of growth in the past week, and Jareth had taken the precaution to direct the wish-maker to the entrance of the Labyrinth farthest from the darkness. That was enough of a precaution in Jareth's mind. If harm did befall the woman, he wouldn't be heartbroken.

The wished-away child was in his throne room, in the blanketed hollow before his throne, surrounded by boisterous goblins. The child had been screaming, tears and howls fighting their way out of her little body. Jareth felt it tug on his heart as he watched her cry. She had every reason to be upset: her mother had been mean to her, and then her mother had gone away, and she was no doubt frightened by the goblins. Every child that had ever been wished away had been initially terrified of the goblins, every child but one.

Jareth scooped up the crying girl, who he later learned was named Dawn, and held her close, rocking her gently as he hummed a lullaby. At length, her tears ceased, and she fell into an exhausted slumber. Jareth had nestled her into those blankets so that only her mop of red curls and her freckles were visible, and then he'd gone to see how far her mother had progressed. Just before the sun had crested, it had become apparent that the mother, although forced to run the Labyrinth, was not going to win. She didn't want to. Sensing the imminent sunrise, Jareth had sent her home, bending the rules of the game. It hadn't been thirteen hours yet, but he had other duties to attend to, which he now had to complete without any rest.

Deep down, he was thankful people like that always had some idea about goblins; and when put to it, would wish their neglected and sometimes abused children away to the goblins. The lives their children would live otherwise would be…very dark. No, he'd rather lose sleep any day than not fulfill his duty. Dawn was still asleep in his throne room, but he had left her under the watchful eye of Mrs. Chartha, whose rigid personality aside, had the air of a mother-hen around any child. She'd be there when thirteen hours had passed, and Dawn transformed into a goblin. She'd be there when Dawn awoke, with only a dim memory of her past life. She'd be there to guide Dawn into her new life as part of the Underground, as part of the Labyrinth.

The Labyrinth. That brought Jareth back to the matter at hand. He quickly selected serviceable black pants and a leather jacket. After changing into them, he pulled his boots on, ran a hand through his hair, grabbed the bag of provisions Mrs. Chartha had left for them, and then vanished. Sarah was still pacing, her lips compressed into a tight line. Jareth said nothing, silently indicating that Sarah should precede him out of the room. She walked briskly out of the room and by the way her steps seemed to jerk, Jareth could tell she was fighting the urge to run. No matter; he grabbed her elbow, and with a look from Sarah giving him her silent consent, he magicked them to the doors of the Labyrinth.

The second they appeared there the doors burst open, eagerly inviting Sarah to enter, which she was only to happy to do. Jareth matched her quickening pace, reluctant to let her get more than a foot away from him. The second they crossed the threshold, the change in Sarah was instantaneous. She slowed her pace, took a deep, steadying breath, and then let it out slowly. Her shoulders dropped, her spine relaxed into a laidback posture. As Sarah relaxed, so too did Jareth. So far, so good, he thought to himself.

Sarah barely registered the change in her demeanor as she told the Labyrinth in her mind: I told you I would come back. I told you. And now I have. There's nothing to worry about. I'm here. Even if I go away again, I will come back. It's all right to trust me. I won't let you down. I won't abandon you. Sarah kept up the string of encouraging thoughts, sending them like little beacons of hope to the Labyrinth. When she'd finished, she could have sworn she felt the Labyrinth relax, and suddenly the sun was at full light, no longer holding back. All was right at the moment.

"Sarah?"

She looked at Jareth, realizing he probably had no idea what was going on. "I'm sorry I didn't explain, Jareth. It's just that when I awoke this morning, this overwhelming urge to return to the Labyrinth claimed me, and I couldn't fight it. I had to come here. I had to. I can't explain it any better than that."

Jareth was quiet for a moment, and then asked "Was it like before, on our first day in the Labyrinth, when you felt those other inexplicable emotions?"

Hmmm. It was sort of like then, but it was not the same. In some small part, the need to return to the Labyrinth had come from Sarah. But why she had needed to do so was inexplicable. "It was similar, but not completely like then. Then, none of what I felt came from me. But this morning, only part of it came from elsewhere, and the rest came from me. I felt – I feel," she corrected herself, "almost attached to the Labyrinth. Bound, in some small way, as silly as it sounds."

It didn't sound silly to Jareth, not by any means. In fact, it made a very terrifying sort of sense. Earlier today, he'd not been able to magick himself inside the Labyrinth. A trick of that sort required a significant amount of magic, and he hadn't been able to summon it while inside the Labyrinth. There'd been a strange and unyielding block on his power. He'd still had a little magic, enough to conjure a foreboding glamour and a few other awe-inspiring tricks to keep the wish-caster on her toes. But it was almost as if he was being cut off from the Labyrinth, denied the right to exercise his magic, one of his most fundamental qualities. Before, he'd felt alienated from the Labyrinth, both by its refusal to heed his magic, and its erratic behavior. Now, the feeling doubled; he'd never felt less connected to the Labyrinth, not since before he became king.

My powers both over and within the Labyrinth diminish at the same time Sarah's bond with the Labyrinth strengthens. Coincidence? Jareth didn't think so. It seemed the Labyrinth did want Sarah, but not just as a possession. Perhaps, Jareth thought to himself. That's just a possibility to consider, not a certainty. Jareth tabled the thought, and returned to Sarah, asking, "Has the feeling passed now?"

Sarah nodded. "Yes. It's gone now."

Jareth forced a nonchalant tone. "Well, no harm has been done. If it happens again, we know how to appease it. Best not to dwell on it." Everything was good now; no need to add pointless worrying into the mix.

Doing as Jareth said, Sarah tried not to dwell on it. Instead, she turned to the next question on her mind, "Were you awake the entire night?"

One point to Sarah for her powers of observation, Jareth thought wryly before answering. "I was."

A cryptic answer, if she'd ever heard one before. Dare she ask him why? Why not? she told herself. What had she to lose? "Why? Did something happen? Was there an emergency?" She couldn't have slept through it.

"No, nothing of the sort," Jareth said firmly. "I was …summoned…away. A duty I had to attend to." Sarah looked confused, and Jareth was too tired to dance around the truth, no matter what memories it evoked. "A child was wished away to the goblins," he said simply.

Sarah's lips formed a round 'o' of surprise and she walked quietly for a few minutes, apparently lost in her thoughts. "So that part was real," she said to herself.

Jareth wasn't sure if she had meant for him to hear that, but he answered anyway. "Yes, that part is real. I am the goblin king, and when a child is wished away to the goblins, that child becomes my responsibility. Because I represent the goblins, I am summoned to parlay with the wish-casters, to set out the terms of the arrangement. I have no choice but to go. It is my duty."

Sarah was unsure how to respond. Did he mean that because he had no choice in the matter, he did not like fulfilling his duty? What was it exactly that he was bound to do? "What exactly is your duty?"

Jareth began to explain. "When I became king of this realm, and of the goblins in particular, I swore many oaths, and one of them was to uphold the purpose of this realm, even though at the time, I was still uncertain as to what that was." He shifted his bag, and continued. "Myduty involves granting wishes, a very particular sort of wish."

"I wish the goblins would come and take you away, right now?" Sarah supplied tonelessly.

Jareth nodded. "Yes, that one. As soon as the wish is spoken, I must grant it. I send forth the goblins to take the child, and bring it to the castle, and then I go to the person who made the wish. I tell them what they must do, and set forth the terms and conditions, and then leave them to the Labyrinth."

Sarah couldn't help asking: "What happens to the child?"

"While the wish-caster competes against the Labyrinth, the child remains with me, and my goblins."

"You personally tend to the child?"

Jareth smiled. "You needn't sound so shocked, Sarah. I do know a thing or two about children. But yes, I do tend to the child. You can imagine how excited they are when they arrive; how scared. I do my best to calm them down, to soothe them. For some, that requires a substantial amount of effort on my part. I check in on the challenger from time-to-time, to see how they have progressed, or haven't progressed through the Labyrinth. At the end of thirteen hours, I send them back to the Aboveground."

"And what happens to the child then?"

"And then the child becomes a goblin. That is one of the functions of the Labyrinth. Not much about the initial history of the Labyrinth is known, but for as long as I can remember, it has been known as the source of all goblins."

Sarah stared at him for a moment, before saying, "So that part was also true."

They reached a hill of sorts, and Jareth climbed up first. He reached down to give Sarah a hand, and when she'd taken his hand and looked back down at her feet, he felt the bravery to say, "Yes. At that time, everything that you read in the play was real. Everything," Jareth repeated. It was silly of Jareth, but some small part of him wanted her to know that he had loved her. It was as close as he could come to telling her he still loved her.

Sarah's hand twitched in his, before she reluctantly let him go. She walked quietly along, thinking. The little she'd come to know of Jareth in the time she'd been here had told her how much she'd misinterpreted about her thirteen hours here before. Now, she was uncertain just what had been real, and what she had taken for granted. Is he trying to say that he did love me then, but not now? Well, she had refused him. What else could she expect? And he wouldhave turned Toby into a goblin. So I was right to refuse him. Mostly.

Jareth watched Sarah think, torn between wanting her to realize what he'd meant, and wanting to pretend he'd never said anything. He saw her start to protest, and wondered if she would bring it up.

"But Jareth, you're not anything like the king in the play."

That was certainly unexpected. Jareth waited for her to elaborate.

"The king in the play was cruel, domineering; unkind…you're not like that at all. You're…" What was he? "You're a good king. You're caring, and compassionate. And you're a good friend."

She was blushing, most becomingly, Jareth noted.

Change the subject, quickly, Sarah thought. "And I was hardly treated as a slave by my parents. It was wrong of me to wish Toby away – wrong, unfeeling, and foolish of me. Poor Toby." She looked away, her next words coming out in a hurried rush. "I don't know what you must have thought of me; poor spoiled girl, wishing away her innocent baby brother…"

"I didn't think that at all," Jareth told Sarah firmly. "Sarah, you have no idea how different you were from other wish-casters." How could he make her see that without revealing too much? "I offered you the chance to forget about Toby, and you refused. I gave you so many opportunities to turn your back on him, to walk away freely, and you turned them all down. You were sorry; you wanted to make it right. You realized your mistake right away and tried to mend it. You have no idea how rare that is."

"What do you mean?" Sarah asked slowly.

"When children are wished away, usually it's by parents who should never have been parents in the first place. They don't want their children back, and as sad as it is, it's probably the best thing for their children. They're much better off here, as goblins, than they would be as neglected and oft-times abused children in the Aboveground. The majority of the cases over the years have been like that, and it's almost a pleasure to see those parents fail the Labyrinth."

Sarah was confused. "But if they don't want their children back, why do they even bother with running the Labyrinth?"

"Because they have no choice. That's how the game is played. They have to attempt the Labyrinth, or become part of it forever. And before you say anything, I did suspend that rule in your case." I broke a lot of rules for you, he added in his mind.

"How many …wish-casters…have ever solved the Labyrinth?" If Sarah had been able to do it, then she reasoned that at the very least, a hundred or so others should have been able to do the same. At the very least.

"During my entire reign as Goblin King?" Jareth asked, for clarification. Sarah nodded, and Jareth answered: "One."

"Oh," was all she could say for a few minutes. Then: "What happens when the wish-casters return to the aboveground empty-handed?"

"I erase all memory of the child from all but the wish-caster. They will always remember their deed. Maybe someday, they'll come to regret their actions."

Sarah thought for a moment and realized: "But Jareth, it's not been thirteen hours yet. Where is the child that was wished-away last night?"

"Dawn is with Mrs. Chartha, sleeping soundly, when last I looked."

Sarah didn't miss the protective note in his voice when he said her name, and she admired it. "Dawn? That's a beautiful name. How old is she?"

Jareth smiled again. "She's about three-and-a-half years old, or at least that's what she told me. She may have been only three, and was rounding up."

Sarah grinned slightly, but then became serious again as she asked: "How does the transformation work?"

"After thirteen hours, the magic of this place transforms every mortal child into a goblin. I've seen it hundreds of times. It happens in the blink of an eye. One moment they're a human child, and the next they're a goblin. That's really all there is to it. And once they've made the transformation, they don't remember anything about their past lives." He was silent for a moment before adding, "In most cases, it's for the best. They can start a new life, with a new and loving family. There are numerous goblin couples waiting for a child; they're only too happy to adopt the recent additions."

That seemed to satisfy Sarah presently, but soon enough another question popped into her head. "The children come from a variety of different places, don't they?"

"Yes," Jareth answered, intrigued, "from all over the Aboveground. Why do you ask?"

"Oh, it's just that some of their names are so…well, unusual. That's all." Vilha, for one. She cleared her throat. "So, if I hadn't reached Toby when I did, he would have become a goblin too?" Sarah had mixed reactions to the idea. On one hand, she knew that there was absolutely nothing wrong with goblin children – they were as sweet and loveable as human children. But on the other hand, Toby was her brother…and the idea of him as a goblin just didn't sit right with her.

Jareth was quick to answer "No. It was never my intention to allow that to happen. I wouldn't have let it happen."

Sarah knew she was getting into the tricky of "ifs" and "would haves", but she had to ask: "Would you have sent him back to the Aboveground if I hadn't made my way to the castle?"

Jareth answered honestly: "Yes. If you had wished it. If you had wished to return to the Aboveground, I would have sent you back as well. I would have never kept you or your brother here against your will." I would have returned you to your home regardless; you were too young, far too young, even if you had wanted me.

"Then I was right," Sarah said, "You're not anything like the king in the play."

"I'm glad you think so," was all Jareth had to say. He was relieved in more ways than one. Getting the discussion about her time in the Labyrinth over…how the situation had started, at least…was a weight off of his chest. They didn't have to dance around that subject anymore. And Sarah had treated the topic so well – so reasonably, so maturely – it was a nice relief. It was almost cathartic. And she thought he was a good king. What else did she say I was? Oh, yes: A good friend.

Jareth was thrilled, really, he was. But he was also tired. Last night hadn't been the first sleepless night he'd passed this week. He couldn't prevent a yawn, although he covered it discreetly with his hand.

Sarah noticed anyway, and decided to spare him. "We've been walking for a while now; let's stop. I'm tired." She hoped she wasn't being too obvious.

Jareth didn't say anything; he simply pointed to a small clearing on their left, similar to the withered box-gardens of two days before. After they'd both sat down and eaten a little something, Jareth masked another yawn before saying, "Well, we've spent most of the morning talking about me. I think it's time we turned the tables. Tell me something about yourself, Sarah. Anything you want." He settled his back against the wall, searching for a comfortable position.

"Anything?"

"Anything," he repeated.

While Sarah thought of something to tell him, Jareth continued to get comfortable, stretching his legs out before him. Sarah wasn't sure how long he'd be awake to listen to what she said, so she chose an innocuous story about the first – and last – time she'd ridden a pony. Sure enough, his eyes closed after a few minutes. She spoke a bit softer, for a few more minutes, and then she tried calling his name. When he didn't respond, she assumed he was asleep.

Sarah leaned forward, kneeling before him, and just looked at him. He looked so peaceful. The worries that visibly weighed on him were gone for once, his face completely relaxed. This was Sarah's first chance to really look at him, as much as she wanted, without interruption, and she took full advantage of it. He was so handsome. She'd noticed before, she couldn't help it. But now she really saw how truly gorgeous he was. If she had dreamed of the perfect man, and fashioned his appearance herself, Jareth is what she would have dreamed of. In fact, she did dream of him. He literally was the man of her dreams.

Half an hour later, Sarah realized she hadn't moved from that position, kneeling before Jareth, just looking at him. He really was amazing. She raised a hand to touch his face, but stopped herself before she made contact. What would he think if he woke up and saw me? He'd think I was crazy! Sarah sat back, and as she did, the feeling came back into her legs, giving her that ubiquitous pins-and-needles feeling. Standing up, she waited for full sensation and function to return, and happened to notice something a few yards away. When she could walk, she went to investigate.

Jareth awoke several hours later and reached a gloved hand up to massage the crick in his neck. By the angle and intensity of the light, he could tell he'd been asleep for a while. It was quiet. Too quiet. Suddenly he jumped to his feet, completely awake. He turned to his right, and then quickly to his left, scanning the entire area around him. Dread and panic rose within his heart: Sarah was gone.

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Author's Addendum: So, what's your favorite name, and why? Tell me about it in a review:D