Author's note: Sorry about the delay. It seems that updating once a week is about all I'm going to be able to manage for a while, and so I send you this chapter wrapped in my most humble apologies. As always, please review!

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Jareth took a deep breath, trying to remain calm. "Sarah?" he called, in a slightly elevated voice. Nothing. He called again, louder, and listened. Nothing. Once more he called, almost shouting her name, and still there was no answer. Still fighting to remain calm, Jareth cast out a mental hand, grasping for enough power to magick himself away. He cast his mental nets out further and further before he remembered that that particular skill required too much magic. Abandoning the effort with a frustrated cry, Jareth changed tactics and leapt into the air, transforming into Owl-Jareth instantly. Transforming between different forms required a different kind of magic altogether, one the Labyrinth had no power over. He soared upwards, in ever increasing circles, looking for Sarah. There was no sign of her. His tiny owl-heart beat frantically against his delicate ribcage as he pumped his wings once more, expanding his search.

Before long, he found her, his keen eyes discerning the sun glinting off of her chestnut hair. Owl-Jareth sank into a fast dive, his focus narrowing until Sarah was all he saw. Right before he hit the ground, Jareth transformed into his fae form, landing hard on his booted feet. Sarah, lost in her own world, didn't hear him until he landed. She turned around at the sound of his fast footsteps, surprise on her face. She made to greet him, but changed her mind when she saw his furious expression.

"What's wrong?" she asked instead.

"What's wrong? What's wrong? What's wrong?!" He repeated the question incredulously, his voice rising with each iteration. "Where were you?!"

Sarah stood perfectly still, stunned by the angry accusation in his tone.

He didn't wait for her to answer. "Have you any idea how terrified I was when I woke up and you weren't there? Do you know what that kind of fear feels like?! Do you?!" He was dangerously near shouting, one hand clutched over his heart to calm his raging pulse.

Sarah didn't know what else to say, except, "I'm sorry."

That only seemed to incense Jareth further. "Sorry? You're sorry?!" Jareth swore loudly and turned away, running a shaking hand through his hair. When he turned back, he told her, "Don't you ever do that to me again, do you understand me?" His voice dangerously restrained; his face was white with fright and anger.

Sarah eyed the throbbing artery in his neck, and took her time answering him. "I'm sorry," she repeated. "I never expected to go so far, and when I left, you were sleeping so peacefully that I didn't want to wake you…"

He interrupted her, asking: "What possessed you to leave? How hard would it have been to wake me?" He approached her, pointing a finger in her direction. "You promised on your first day here that you wouldnever go anywhere in the Labyrinth without someone accompanying you. You promised me that. How dare you go off on your own? Do you have any idea what could have happened?" Nervous energy was fueling his tirade, and Jareth didn't seem to be able to stop himself.

"I said I was sorry, okay?! I'm sorry I didn't stay put. I'm sorry I broke my word. I'm sorry I let you sleep when you clearly needed to! I'm sorry!" Now she was shouting.

"Sorry isn't enough, Sarah! Do you have any idea how terrified I was when I couldn't find you? How terrified I was that something had happened to you?"

"But nothing happened to me, Jareth! I'm fine!"

"That isn't the point, Sarah-"

"Then what is, Jareth?! The fact that you were worried about me?"

Ah. She'd hit the nail on the head. Jareth's angry retort died in his throat, and he closed his mouth, his anger fading. Sarah watched the fire burn out of him with a pang of regret; the sight of him so incensed had been deeply attractive.

"I'm sorry, Jareth," she said softly, no longer shouting. "Truly, I am. I never meant to scare you. Nothing happened, thankfully. Can you forgive me?"

Jareth took a steadying breath. He couldn't refuse her anything. "Don't do it again, Sarah. Please." He didn't wait for her response, wanting to put this shouting match behind them. "What drew you to this particular area?" he asked, trying for a calm tone.

Sarah accepted his efforts for peace, and told him, "I saw something moving a few yards away from where we were, and I went to see what it was. It was some of that eye-lichen. It was alive, unlike all the other ones we've seen. When I went and looked at it, I saw another one a few yards away, and then another one after that…and so on until you arrived."

"Indeed. Well, that certainly seems to be a positive sign. I'm glad you noticed, Sarah." It was as much of an apology as she would ever get.

"Thank you, Jareth. I think the Labyrinth is coming back to life, bit by bit. I can almost feel it. First that flower, and then the lichens…who knows what will be next?"

"Who indeed?" Jareth cast an eye towards the sky and noted the position of the sun. "If you wouldn't mind, perhaps we might search for other signs of new life on our way back to the city?"

Sarah mirrored his action, noting how the sun was almost ready to set. As she turned to go, she took his arm, even though he hadn't offered it. Jareth tried not to show how much her closeness affected him, how much her touch sent excited shivers down his spine. He simply began walking, with Sarah beside him, and together they began the long trek out of the Labyrinth.

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Sarah put her quill down and eyed her sizeable stack of stationary. It had been seven days since she and Jareth had had their first argument, and she'd learned so much since that day that she'd been hard-pressed to record it all. Leaning back in her chair, Sarah turned to what she had written seven days ago and began to read.

The goblins really do come to claim wished-away children. That part of my time here was real; it wasn't just some invention to get me here. Jareth came because I wished Toby away. And maybe because he loved me, once. Anyway, the person who wishes away their child has to try and get through the Labyrinth to get their child back or they become part of the Labyrinth. If they don't succeed after thirteen hours, the child becomes a goblin and has no memory of his or her past life, and the person who wished them away is sent back to the Aboveground. All memory of the child is erased, magically, but the wish-caster is not allowed to forget their child.

The next day, Sarah had probed Jareth for all the details he could recall about his childhood. She'd wanted to know about his parents, his siblings, his home, his schooling, his favorite pastimes…anything that he would have been willing to tell her. When Sarah had told Jareth what sort of person she thought he was, she had spoken instinctually. She'd had two week's worth of observations to support her assertions, but two weeks weren't enough to confidently make that sort of assessment. But Sarah had been confident because deep down, she knew he was a good king, she knew he was compassionate, she knew he was a good friend…it was instinctual. She just felt it. But Sarah wanted to know why she knew it. She wanted to know all about him, and maybe if she dug deep enough, she'd discover what it was that made him the man he was today.

Jareth had been slightly uncomfortable talking about his past. He'd only responded to direct questions, like her request for his full name. Sarah read over the long name once more, smirking at how many attempts it had taken her to spell it correctly: Jareth Bendefig Achlesydd 'n Arobryn Chanasgre Oberonex. On her seventh try, Sarah'd gotten it right. What's more is that she knew she'd gotten it right because she'd had Jareth spell it out for her, several times in fact.

On the fifth recitation, Jareth had quirked an elegant eyebrow and asked: "Why do you want to know how it's spelled, Sarah? Are you thinking of writing my biography?"

"No," she said airily, "I just wanted to see if you could spell it."

"Are you impressed?" Jareth had asked, a note of playful hope in his tone.

In a mock-serious voice Sarah'd replied, "Terribly so." She'd watched him puff out his chest with pride until unrestrained laughter had overwhelmed her.

Jareth's posture had deflated instantly, but then he teased back, "I'll be impressed if you can manage to spell it correctly when you record it in your notes tonight."

Sarah's laughs had ceased abruptly. "You know about that?" she'd asked incredulously. "You saw my notes?"

"You were the one who invited me into your rooms."

Oh. She hadn't had a retort for that. She had invited him into her rooms, and she'd relished the feeling of sensual awareness brought about by having him so near to her bed. With that happy thought in her head, Sarah hadn't been able to form an articulate response to Jareth's matter-of-fact statement. Thankfully, he'd shown no outward sign of knowing just what was foremost in her thoughts. Instead, he'd continued to talk about her notes.

"Well, I confess I didn't know they were notes before now. I only saw that you'd been writing, and I made an educated guess."

"What would you have guessed if it hadn't been notes?" Sarah had asked, keeping her rosy face carefully averted.

Jareth eyed her flushed face with interest, but said "Oh, I don't know. A drawing, perhaps? Do you sketch at all, Sarah?"

"No," she'd lied, thinking: He's not asking if I've made some sketches; he's asking if I know how to draw, and that answer is huge, resounding 'no,' so technically I'm not lying.

But then again, technically she had been. Sarah looked up from her reading and eyed the handful of rudimentary sketches she'd made. They were poor quality, but they weren't meant to be art. They were meant for a different purpose altogether. Thinking about them put nervous butterflies in Sarah's belly, and she returned her attention to her notes.

He is the eldest son of the High King and High Queen of the Underground, Oberon and Titania. He was 'groomed,' as he put it, for the throne since the day when he cast his first spell. He had tutors for every subject imaginable, and spent countless hours shadowing his father. His younger brother, Charles, was born when Jareth was 116, and his younger sister, Astera, was born when Jareth was 245. By that time, he'd already come of age, at 200 years old, and had completed his education. He'd been granted a small kingship in the west, a place called Somnaria. The last king had died without issue, and the country was in need of a monarch. In Somnaria dwelled the Breudwyds, supernatural creatures that could take any form they desired. A few still resided in the Labyrinth, although he'd not seen them in years. He ruled without problem for almost 300 years, and then the great war arose.

So many holes glared at Sarah from that passage. She knew he'd had a first spell, but what was it? Had he transported himself from the lap of his father to the arms of his mother? Had he made one of his toys dance? Had he even had toys? And what about his father? He'd shadowed the High King, but what of their relationship? Had he looked up to his father, respected him, wanted to be just like him? Or had he resented his father, hated how the kingdom had always come first, and Jareth and his siblings second? And what about his siblings? Had they been allies or rivals? Had they roamed around the castle, an inseparable trio, or had they spent their days trying to one-up the others?

And then he'd been sent to the kingdom Somnaria. Sarah'd pressed him enough to learn that he'd liked it there, that he'd been relatively happy. But then the wall in his eyes had come down again, and she hadn't been able to ask what it was that he'd liked, or anything else on the subject. At least he'd had more to say about the war, Sarah thought to herself, returning to the papers before her

Jareth didn't say where it originated, but a collective movement was started among the fae to 'cleanse' the Underground.

Sarah stopped reading for a moment, remembering the terrible distaste with which Jareth had uttered the word 'cleanse.' He'd looked physically sickened by the term, and she'd resisted the urge to put a comforting arm around his shoulders.

That was a euphemism for getting rid of all unsightly, beastly-looking creatures. Rumors were spread about them, how they did all sorts of ridiculous evil things, like making horses unwilling to carry a rider and making fae children ill-tempered.

"It was completely ludicrous," Jareth said, over and over. "I couldn't believe it when I first heard it, but when I realized those ridiculous lies were taken seriously…"Jareth hadn't finished his sentence, but Sarah hadn't needed him to. He'd gone on to talk about restrictions placed upon those poor creatures, how goblins couldn't work for paying and dwarves couldn't roam the streets after sundown. The rules were arbitrary and inane, but they were rules all the same. The goal had seemed to be to relegate those creatures to the dregs of society, to contain them, to trap them in the lowest positions possible. But soon it wasn't enough. The movement intensified, and the original goal became obvious: they were going to rid the Underground of its unwanted citizens. They were going to kill them off.

But by the time he learned of it, it was too late to stop it peacefully. The movement was too firmly entrenched; it needed a forceful opposition to dislodge it. So, instead, he convinced his citizens to fight against the outrage and he spent much time privately uniting gnomes, goblins, dwarves, and ogres, creating a singular army to fight against the fae.

At length, they had a sizeable army, but still he held back, unwilling to begin the bloody battle. In one last, diplomatic stab, Jareth went to the capital city and publicly declared himself against the cruel doctrine, hoping his status as High Prince might make a difference. He delivered an ultimatum to the High King and Queen: give up this foolishness, or he would renounce his claim to the throne. Unfortunately, the High King and Queen were prepared for that, and introduced him to his replacement: his younger brother Charles. Jareth said he gave him a dignified bow, and then walked away, never to return. When Jareth returned to Somnaria, he saw what his stand against the fae majority had cost him. While he had been addressing the High King and Queen –and Sarah noted that he didn't refer to them as his parents – a radical fae army had torn through his kingdom. He returned to find little but ashes and blood.

Sarah had understood then why he'd been reluctant to talk about his time in Somnaria; perhaps the loss of it, and the way it was lost, was still too close to Jareth's heart.

A few Breudwyds remained alive and well, and they were incensed, eager to fight in the war.

At the word "war," Jareth had noticed how her posture changed, how her spine had straightened as she waited to learn about the subject that had sparked her interest a week ago. He'd given her a wry smile and stated, "Yes, there was a war." His smile faded and his expression became brooding once more. "And it was long and bloody."

The war lasted for years. Jareth had spoken quite matter-of-factly about it at first, reporting figures and statistics quickly, as if recalling any more details would be too much for him to bear. Many died, even among his enemies, the fae. Fae are immortal, if left to their own devices, but they can be killed by iron.

Later, when he'd been talking a while and had taken up that wall in his eyes, he'd told her stories about the war, some of them funny, like the goblin corporal who had never ridden a ragwyr before. He'd mounted his rat-like steed backwards, and ridden it for an entire day that way. It was only when the ragwyr had had enough of walking backwards that it gently informed the corporal of his mistake. But not all the tales were light. Most of them were sad, painting a picture of heroic loss in Sarah's mind, and she skimmed over the ones she'd recorded, skipping past the tear-splotched pages.

The next entry detailed the end of the war.

They retreated to the deserts of oblivion, to the very walls of the Labyrinth, and still the fae army pursued them. Jareth was faced with the decision to either make a heroic but final stand in that desolate desert or to try their luck in the Labyrinth. He chose the latter. He'd led what remained of his army and their families to find the gates of the Labyrinth. Not knowing why he'd done it, he'd asked the Labyrinth to show them the way inside its walls, and the doors had opened immediately.

Jareth said he felt strangely upon entering the Labyrinth, as if he were being watched, weighed, and measured. He led his followers through the maze, "On a trek that lasted significantly longer than thirteen hours," he'd said with a slight grin. The fae army had been fast on their heels, and the scouts he'd sent out reported to him that the Labyrinth had been infiltrated by the enemy. Upon hearing that news, Jareth led the remnants of his once enormous following deeper into the Labyrinth, somehow instinctively knowing the way. When he reached the city of goblins, and stood upon the rough-hewn stone formation at the very center, Jareth said he felt a change.

"The Labyrinth seemed to swell. It surrounded us, almost protecting us. The intruding fae army was staved off and driven back by unseen hands, by unknown magic. It was as if the Labyrinth was refusing to let harm come to us, making itself into an impenetrable barrier to our enemies. For the first time in years, we were safe." Even now, a thousand years later, his relief hadn't diminished.

Jareth spent several days investigating the center of the Labyrinth. At that time, it was a primitive goblin village, but its inhabitants had been hospitable. Since the Labyrinth had taken them in, Jareth had felt it safe to trust these villagers. What choice had he had? When provisions had been secured and temporary dwellings had been erected, Jareth went to parlay with the fae forces. Alone. He didn't tell me what he told them, or what they told him. All he said was that they too had suffered losses and no longer wished to fight. An agreement was reached: the fae would leave off their purpose and allow Jareth and his followers to remain within the Labyrinth, unmolested and free to do as they pleased as long as they stayed within the Labyrinth's boundaries. Another attempt to remove the unwanted creatures from the Underground would not be made, so long as they remained within the Labyrinth. No conditions were placed upon Jareth, but none were needed. Nothing remained for him outside of the Labyrinth. Sarah had seen the loss hidden in his words: fighting for what was right and decent had cost him his kingdom, his subjects, and his chance to rule the Underground. But although there had been sadness in his words, there hadn't been bitterness. Jareth may miss what he'd had, but he didn't want it back, and Sarah admired him for that. Not wanting to dwell on that bleak topic, she'd tried to talk about something else, something lighter.

"So the Labyrinth is the reason you have no heir."

Jareth didn't pause in his walking, but he had given Sarah a surprised look, the mirror of her own. She'd had no idea why she'd even brought the subject up. Why didn't she just try and find out if he was ticklish while she was at it?! Sarah had shaken her head slightly as if to clear it, and then elaborated. "I only meant that you've been tied to the Labyrinth ever since then, and with no allies in the rest of the Underground, I wouldn't think marriage would have been high on your list of priorities." God, she remembered thinking, why do I have to blush now

Jareth had looked most intrigued. "Am I to understand, Sarah, that you think I am not married?"

Sarah would have given anything to escape from that particular conversation, but she'd asked the now-unavoidable question anyway, "Are you married?"

Jareth, seeming to take a little bit too much delight in her discomfiture, answered unhelpfully, "You don't seem to think so. I'm sure you know enough about me now to realize I wouldn't let a lack of allies stand in my way to matrimony, so there must be some other reason why you think I am unsuitable for marriage." Sarah'd instantly protested, quickly trying to tell him she'd thought nothing of the sort, but he'd cut her off, speaking over her. "Tell me, Sarah, what about me is it that makes me a thoroughly bad prospect as a husband?" His affectation of wounded pride would have been spoiled by the teasing look in his eyes, save that Sarah hadn't noticed it yet.

"You're not unsuitable for marriage, Jareth! I meant nothing of the sort. I only meant that the opportunity wouldn't have presented itself because you were too busy being a good king to take the time to look for it. I know you'd make a good husband. You're exactly the right sort of man, the one every girl dreams of finding. You're a far sight better than any man I've ever met, and if I ever were to walk down the aisle, you'd be…" She'd slapped a hand over her mouth then, but it had been too late.

"Yes?" He prompted, a triumphant grin on his face. It was then that Sarah noticed how he wasn't offended in the least, and that he'd effectively trapped her into telling him how marriageable he was, and almost into blatantly admitting that she would marry him, which is absurd because I hardly know him, she thought to herself. Oh, puh-leese, her mind's voice replied, don't take that stance. You've dreamed of doing a ton of other things to him far racier than marrying him, before you knew him as well as you do now, so don't get all high-and-mighty on me.

Sarah politely told her mind's voice to go to hell, while she took her thoughts elsewhere. She eyed the stack of stationary to her left, the one without any writing on it. She would have loved to have been able to fill those blank pages with information about the darkness, but Jareth had been resolutely vague on that topic. He'd parried her questions about it relentlessly, as if he didn't even want her to think about it. And that was a problem. Sarah wanted to think about the darkness. She was ecstatic that the Labyrinth seemed to be coming back to life. She knew it had to be something about her presence that was rejuvenating the Labyrinth, and even though she didn't know what it was she was doing to make things better, she was content with the knowledge that she was helping. Now she wanted to turn their efforts towards solving the darkness. She was there, after all, to help fix the entire Labyrinth.

She'd brought that point up several times too, but Jareth had always had an answer: "Yes, the Labyrinth does seem to be coming back to life. And I agree, it's wonderful. It truly is. But I want to make sure it lasts before we turn our attentions to anything else."

Jareth might have been afraid that if Sarah shifted her focus from the Labyrinth to the darkness, the Labyrinth might rebel and revert to how it had been in her absence. He also might have been afraid of what the darkness might do if they tried to interfere with it. He might have been afraid that things would get worse, that the darkness would expand and devour more and more of the Labyrinth. Jareth could have had any number of fears about the darkness that made him hesitate, but Sarah didn't know what any of them were because he would not talk about it.

After several days of unanswered questions about the darkness, with Jareth starting to show irritation at her persistent queries, Sarah had given up. She'd have to ask someone else about the darkness, or she would be forced to figure it out on her own.

She'd gone to ask Hoggle about it yesterday when she and Jareth had returned. Before she could get the first question out, Hoggle'd preempted her with a question of his own.

"Sarah, I was wondering, if yer not too busy, that is, that maybe you'd like to have dinner with me 'n Clara t'morrow night." Hoggle turned red halfway through his invitation, but resolutely continued. "You can say no if you've got other plans. It's just she's heard me talk about you, and says she wants to meet you, only she was a bit nervous about askin' you herself. Will you come?"

His face was so hopeful, his manner so earnest, that Sarah was powerless to refuse. "Oh, Hoggle, of course I'll come! What time should I be there? What should I bring? Where are we eating?"

Hoggle'd relaxed visibly, and told her quickly the location and time, and that she wasn't to bring a thing. Sarah'd smiled to see Hoggle so happy, and told Jareth so at dinner that night. They'd eaten together every night since their first 'date,' as Sarah didn't like to call it, and he was as excited for Hoggle as she was, although he didn't exhibit the same, effervescent happiness that Sarah did. What had gone unspoken in her announcement of Hoggle's invitation was that Sarah wouldn't be dining with Jareth that night.

She'd taken her leave of him earlier today, when they'd returned. She felt pang of resentment directed towards Hoggle when she realized she might not see Jareth again until tomorrow night, as tomorrow was Jareth's day to make his rounds. Sarah had told him she'd be spending the day with her friends, and that if he wasn't busy that night, she'd love to have dinner with him again. Jareth had been overjoyed, and she could have sworn she felt his hand tremble as he held her hand and gave it a light, farewell kiss.

Later today, back in the residential area of the main hall, Sarah had met Clara. Sarah had to admit to herself that she'd been nervous about meeting Clara. She knew how happy Hoggle was because of Clara, and Sarah was afraid that if she didn't like Clara, she'd ruin Hoggle's happiness. She needn't have worried. Sarah took an instant liking to Clara, from the moment Clara rushed forward to grip Sarah's hand warmly in welcome, telling Sarah in a sweet, clear voice that she was so happy to finally meet Sarah.

They'd sat around the table, Hoggle at the head, and Clara and Sarah on either side of him, with small, adorable Gerry beside Sarah. All throughout the meal, Sarah'd tried to focus on the conversation. She'd tried to keep her mind on the present, but she kept getting lost in moments of déjà vu. When Hoggle had helped Clara into her seat, even though she was quite capable of doing so on her own, it was Jareth that Sarah saw, helping Sarah into the chair she'd occupied at their dinners, and Jareth again that she saw, opening every door for her, eager to both be near her and to please her. When Hoggle's hand lingered on Clara's as he passed the bread to her, it was Sarah's own hand that she saw, lingering in Jareth's gloved grasp as he helped her up a bit of uneven terrain. When Clara left the table momentarily to fetch another pitcher of water and Hoggle's eyes followed her every movement, it was Jareth that Sarah saw, watching Sarah with that same, warm, hungry expression. She noticed all the silent physical communication between Hoggle and Clara, and realized that she and Jareth shared that same connection. Between Hoggle and Clara every touch seemed to linger, every glance was forever, every parting an eternity…and Sarah now saw that it was the same between her and Jareth.

At dinner, she had clearly seen before her how two people very much in love acted, and now, back in her rooms, she realized it was the way she and Jareth acted towards each other. What did that mean? They'd only been together for two weeks – they'd only really known each other for two weeks. Two weeks wasn't enough time to fall in love. Right? But it could mean he still had some feelings for her, physically at the very least. The hope it brought forth within Sarah's belly was a fiery glow, until she glanced back at the simple sketches she had made. Looking at them dampened that spring of hope, reminding her of what she had planned for tomorrow. If she and Jareth were on the path to something more than friendship, and she wouldn't dare to say it aloud even if she was certain of it, it made what she was going to do tomorrow an even deeper betrayal of Jareth's trust, and as she blew out her candle and crawled into bed, Sarah prayed that Jareth would forgive her for it.

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Author's addenda: I know it was a confusing format, but I just wanted to experiment a bit. If you didn't like it, don't worry, it's probably not going to happen again. I would be delighted if you would review and tell me what you think…about anything, anything at all within the chapter or the story as a whole. Or you could just answer my completely random question below:

Why do you like Labyrinth?