Author's note: Standard disclaimer applies...please review!

Jareth stirred in his sleep, beginning to awaken. He kept his eyes closed, reluctant to leave his dream so soon. He was in the box garden of before, save that now, it was green and vibrant. The hedges were verdant, trimmed into fanciful and flawless shapes. Jareth sat on a cushioned stone bench, watching Sarah. She was wearing a loose, flowing, silky green dress that brought out the color of her eyes. She was standing next to a shrub full of large, pink blossoms. Jareth caught her gaze, and padded the bench beside him in invitation. Sarah smiled at him, plucked one of the rosy blossoms, and seated herself beside him. She presented Jareth with the flower and gave him a light kiss as he took the blossom from her hand. Jareth held her fast as she made to pull away, pulling her towards him for another, deeper kiss. When they broke apart, Jareth tucked the blossom above Sarah's left ear, its pink tones perfectly matching the healthy, rosy blush in Sarah's cheeks.

Jareth wrapped his arm around Sarah's shoulders, delighting in the feel of her so close beside him. Sarah rested her head on his shoulder, her breath tickling his neck. Suddenly she started, and before Jareth could ask her what was the matter she grabbed his free hand and placed it over her rounded belly. Jareth held his breath, waiting, and then he felt it: a light kick, a steady flutter. Their child was alive and kicking. Jareth looked at Sarah in amazement, and saw the delight suffusing her features, the perfect joy reflected in her smile. No words were needed between them. He felt his face begin to mirror the happiness in hers, and leaned down, resting his head on her stomach. Sarah leaned back and placed her hand on the back of his neck, her fingers toying with his hair, the ring on her third finger cool on Jareth's skin. Jareth felt their child kick again, seeing in his mind a playful daughter, an active son. He wrapped his arms around his wife and the precious burden she carried. Sarah gave a contented sigh and Jareth looked up to see the love shining from her eyes, and he knew that at this moment, his life was perfect. Jareth's heart was full; in his arms, he held everything that mattered to him in the entire universe, and the joy of it was such that he felt he might burst with it.

Jareth held her closer, and belatedly realized that he was awake, and it was a pillow he held in his arms and not his dream-Sarah. Jareth pushed the pillow away and ran a hand over his face. That was the same dream he'd had in the Labyrinth a week ago, when he'd fallen asleep in the box garden, and he didn't need to look very deeply to know what it meant. In that dream, Sarah had loved him, as much as he loved her now. In that dream, he'd had everything his heart desired, and more. Jareth sat up, letting the sheets pool around his waist. Through the window, he could just see the merest hint of the coming dawn. He still had time; he could lay himself back down and return to that dream, his dream-Sarah was waiting just on the other side of his closed eyelids…

With one quick motion, Jareth threw off the covers and sprang out of bed. He let the cold stone floor assault his bare feet, bringing him fully awake. Jareth knew the danger of letting a dream rule one's life, letting it consume one's every thought and action, until everything was lost and nothing remained, save that dream. Oh, Jareth knew it all too well. No, he thought. We won't go down that road again. I lost Somnaria that way. I will not repeat my mistakes. He walked into the bathroom, letting the monotony of his morning ablutions drive the hard truth into him: it had been only a dream. This was reality, and in reality, Sarah was not his wife. In reality, Sarah was not carrying their child. In reality, Sarah did not love him.

Jareth splashed his face with a stream of icy water, letting the chilling droplets trickle down his pale skin. He met his eyes in the mirror, and analyzed the face Sarah saw every day. It wasn't a bad-looking face, Jareth observed. On the contrary, there had been a time in Jareth's life when he'd thought that he looked quite handsome indeed. And he would have had to have been blind to not notice how Sarah took notice of his looks. Jareth's lips quirked into a sideways smile; 'took notice' was an understatement. Several times, when he'd arrived to escort Sarah the ten feet to their dinner, she'd taken one look at him and never looked away, temporarily speechless. Of course, she'd had a similar effect on him, but Jareth was more adept than Sarah at hiding his reactions. Jareth dried his face, allowing himself another moment to dwell on the thought of Sarah finding him attractive, before reminding himself that physical attraction is only a start. If anything is to come of this, anything at all, then there's got to be more to it than physical attraction.

But then again, there was.

She liked his company, Jareth knew. Sarah liked talking to him, but Jareth mainly attributed that to her lack of conversational partners in this kingdom rather than a preference for his dialogue. Sarah thought he was a good king, and a good friend. Friend, Jareth reminded himself. Friend. Not partner, not lover, not husband. Friend. Jareth felt a pang somewhere in the region of his heart every time he remembered that. He was rational enough to realize that 'friend' was likely the highest position he could attain in Sarah's affections, but that didn't stop his heart from wanting more. He had tried to be so careful around her. He'd tried to keep his heart closely guarded, hidden away so Sarah couldn't see it and read her name on its pages, written a thousand times over with his every heartbeat. He'd tried so hard to harden his affections. But he was powerless over Sarah. Jareth couldn't keep her out of his heart; he hadn't had a chance. He'd tried so hard to get over her when she'd refused him almost a year ago, but she'd found her way back into his heart the moment she returned Underground; she'd never really left.

Jareth still loved her, the way he'd loved her for more years than he cared to remember, and it filled him with despair. How could she ever return his affections? How could he even hope that she could come to love him as much as he loved her? How would he bear it when she returned to the Aboveground after they fixed the Labyrinth? How could he bear another parting from her? His heart had been broken when she'd refused him before; it'd been halfway broken when she'd wished away her brother. He'd loved her from afar for years, watching her grow, seeing the immortal soul he'd first encountered a thousand years ago manifest itself in the young woman Sarah had been. But she'd been too young. Jareth had known that at best, he'd only get one chance at her love, once chance for his happiness. And the moment the fifteen-year-old Sarah had uttered those words, wishing away her brother, summoning Jareth to her, he had known deep down that it was too late for him. He wouldn't get the chance to court her again, and then, he'd been stuck playing the evil goblin king to her defiant-damsel act. At her age, with her mindset, she'd never have accepted him, not in a thousand years.

But now, her presence was almost cruel; a constant, physical reminder that he had had his chance at her heart. He'd had his chance, and he'd blown it. One didn't get second chances, not with something as fragile as love. Sarah would never be his; she would never love him. She was so near to him, even touching at times and yet her heart was miles off, impenetrable to his love. Sometimes Jareth deluded himself into thinking that she cared for him. Sometimes he'd catch her staring at him, examining him so closely as if she could see his soul. Other times, he'd feel her reluctance to remove her hand from his grasp, as if she enjoyed the feel of him, as if she yearned for his touch. Jareth's heart would soar in those moments, buffeted by the winds of reckless hope. But then, all too soon, his reason would return with absolute rationality and choke that hope right out of him.

Still, Jareth tried to enjoy himself with Sarah. He knew he'd be heartbroken one way or the other when she left, and it wouldn't make a bit of difference whether he had shared one laugh with her, or a hundred laughs. She didn't know what she did to him, and perhaps that might save him this time. When she returned to the Aboveground, she'd have no idea she'd broken his heart all over again, and that might be just enough for Jareth to survive on.

But as long as he didn't think about that, as long as he forgot that she wouldn't be staying for good, Jareth was reasonably happy. But he couldn't help but feel that every time he basked in Sarah's smile, and that every time he inhaled her sweet scent, he was betraying his kingdom. Sarah was here only to help him fix the Labyrinth. Every minute that she was here meant that the Labyrinth was still a danger, and that his kingdom and his subjects were still in peril. He should be looking forward to the day she left, because that would mean that everything in his kingdom was right again. His subjects could return to their homes, their lives would resume, and all thoughts of despair and of the bleak future would disappear.

But Jareth wanted Sarah to stay. He wanted to be near her, to hear her, and to see her every day, even if she never came to see him as anything more than a friend. He could drag her stay out and make it so they never fixed the Labyrinth; that was within his power. But would it be worth the cost? Would having her by his side, even without her love, be worth condemning his kingdom? Would it be worth sentencing his citizens to almost certain death when their food reserves were depleted in a month's, or two month's time?

How could he choose? If he thought rationally, the answer was easy. Logically, he should choose his kingdom. It was his responsibility. It was his duty. It would be selfish and wrong to do otherwise. But his heart said to do otherwise. What he wanted, when he really thought about it, was Sarah. She was vital to his happiness. The sun didn't rise in the morning if Sarah wasn't near to share it with him. When Jareth was with Sarah, he was no longer the Goblin King. When Jareth was with Sarah, he was just Jareth, a fae besotted with a mortal woman. To choose her, to forgo his duties as goblin king, was irrational, to say the least. But there was no arguing with his heart. Why couldn't he have them both? Why was the pursuit of one exclusive of the other? Why did he have to choose between his heart and his duty? It's not fair!

Half an hour later, Jareth emerged from his bathroom, fully dressed and groomed, his spine straight and his posture regal. Today, he wouldn't be seeing Sarah, not until tonight, when they had dinner together once more. Until then, he'd do his best to not think about her. Thinking about her brought him joy one minute, and despair the next. One moment he was certain that she could never love him, and the next, he was dreaming of spending the rest of his life with her. It was too much for him. He'd made the cycle between utter despair and utter, foolish hope too many times this morning, to say nothing of the past few weeks. Whatever he decided, whatever he chose, be it his heart or his kingdom, he still had duties to attend to, and they wouldn't wait for him any longer. Right now, it was time for him to be the Goblin King.

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"Thank you, sire. Business will be much better from now on."

"I'm glad to hear it. Good day to you, Martin. Jane." Jareth touched his fingertips to his brow as he took leave of the Millers, finally finished for the day. It was amazing what sorts of problems and how many disputes could arise in one week, just because so many dwarves and goblins had to live in such close proximity. Take the Millers, for instance, his last meeting of the day. They'd gotten into a squabble with the bakers just a few 'buildings' away in Jareth's foyer, over the price of flour, and it had taken all of Jareth's diplomacy and tact to settle the dispute. He shook his head; being the Goblin King certainly kept him on his toes.

Jareth scanned the bustling crowds of his great hall, looking for one person in particular. He'd surprised himself by not thinking about her all day. At most, she was maybe his every second or third thought, unlike this morning, when she'd been his only thought. But now, he had only one goal: to find Sarah. For one thing, he was hungry. The day was almost over, the sun was preparing to set, and he hadn't eaten all day. He was hungry for food, and he was hungry for Sarah's company. It had been a long, tiring day. Surely he could allow himself the luxury of Sarah's company now. Jareth turned his path and headed outside. If he had to guess, he'd say she was where she'd gone every day for the past week after she and he returned from the Labyrinth: she was in the city, playing with the children.

Sarah'd made a point of spending a little time with them each day. She'd seen them through different eyes when he'd told her how the goblin-children came to be, compassion mingling with pity in her gaze. He could see how every time she held one of those children, she envisioned the life they didn't remember. He too had struggled with that sort of double vision, but he'd learned to not let it bother him. He'd told her firmly that night that these children were happy here, their sufferings were forgotten, and it was best to remember that and let them be.

Jareth walked through empty the streets of the goblin city, observing by the lightness of the sky how nice a day it had been, comparatively speaking. It was certainly quite a change from the dull, gloomy atmosphere of a month ago. Those changes Sarah'd noticed in the Labyrinth – the small signs of returning life – they seemed to be expanding, encompassing the very atmosphere itself. Perhaps they would be near a solution soon, and then Sarah would go home. At the thought of Sarah's time here having a too-rapidly approaching end, Jareth quickened his pace. He wouldn't magick himself to her side – he wasn't that desperate, yet. But he was anxious to see her, and to spend as much time with her as possible.

As he rounded a bend in the road, Jareth could hear Sir Didymus weaving his story-tale magic. A few steps further and they came into view: Sir Didymus seated high on a wall, facing his twenty-odd eager listeners, and Ludo in the back, acting as a sort of climbing-toy for several other children. Jareth felt a sharp sense of sudden panic: Sarah wasn't there! No one had noticed Jareth yet, and he stepped back to stay out of sight. Hoggle wasn't there either. Perhaps she's with Hoggle at Clara's, Jareth thought, trying to remain rational. That had to be it; everything was fine. Sarah wasn't missing again. She was just at Clara's.

Jareth turned back quietly and went back to his foyer, over to the residential area. Several families milled about, preparing food and tables for the evening meal. Jareth found Clara sitting in quiet conversation with Hoggle, who was smoking a pipe and busy mending some trinket. Jareth observed that the table they sat at looked as if it were holding all of Clara's and her son's possessions. It also became apparent that all those possessions had had a rather thorough and lengthy cleaning, polishing, and repairing. Hoggle must have been at it all day. If he's been busy all day with Clara, what then has Sarah been up to? Jareth took a breath and kept his voice neutrally bright, not wanting to convey any of the rising dread and panic he felt.

"Good Evening, Hogbrain! Clara."

Clara started at his voice, the lazy gaze she'd had trained on Hoggle immediately focusing to take in Jareth. Hoggle grunted in reply, not bothering to pause in his work. Clara stood up and greeted Jareth, "Good evening, your majesty. It's a pleasure to see you. To what do we owe the honor of your presence?"

"Thank you, Clara. I was on my way to find Sarah, and I wondered if either of you had seen her about."

Hoggle put down the newly repaired necklace, and puffed deeply on his pipe before addressing Jareth. "She said she was going to spend the day with you, see what it was you got up to." Hoggle noted the look of shock on Jareth's face, and guessed, "Little lady give you the slip, eh?"

Jareth couldn't breath. He struggled to maintain his composure, but all he could think was that Sarah had left him. Where she was wasn't as important as the fact that she was gone. Clara took pity immediately.

"Stop it, Hoggle. Don't listen to him, your majesty. Sarah was ill this morning, and Hoggle and I put her to bed at once, and told her to rest for the day."

Jareth tried not to show how relieved he was that she wasn't gone, but then immediately began to worry about Sarah being sick. The chill of the nights here; maybe it's finally gotten to her and she's succumbed to a cold. Or maybe she's been exerting herself too much of late. Maybe we should rest more during the day. I should go visit her. Would she want to see me? Perhaps I should fetch the healer…

Clara interrupted Jareth's train of thought with, "Sarah asked us to tell you that she'd enjoy it if you stopped in and visited her once you were free for the day." The smile on Clara's face was all too-knowing, as was the disgruntled grimace on Hoggle's face.

Jareth excused himself as politely and as quickly as possible and made his way out of the foyer at a dignified pace. Once he was out of sight, he magicked himself to Sarah's door, and knocked. There was no answer. Jareth knocked again, straining his ears to hear even the faintest response. Nothing. She's probably sleeping; I should come back later, he told himself. But she said she wanted me to visit her. That decided Jareth. Quietly, he turned the doorknob, and slowly Sarah's room came into view. The first thing Jareth noticed was the light coming in through Sarah's windows. The setting sun was shining brightly on Sarah's bed, Sarah's unmade, empty bed.

Jareth stepped inside, calling her name. Still, there was no answer. Looking around, Jareth saw that the room was empty: Sarah wasn't here. Where could she be!? The alarm and dread of before resurfaced, and he turned to go and search for her. As he turned on the spot, a spare bit of stationary on Sarah's desk caught his eye. Walking over to her desk, Jareth picked up the paper and looked at the drawing she'd made. He stayed frozen in that position, his eyes tracing the lines she'd drawn, an expression of horror stealing over his face. It's a map, he realized. A map. She made a map of the Labyrinth.

Jareth noticed all of the marked out areas, and realized it was a rough draft. That meant Sarah had made another draft, a better one. One that would lead her exactly to where he didn't want her to go. One that she had with her now, this very moment, as she made her way to the darkness. The darkness. Oh, Sarah, how could you!?

Jareth crumpled up the drawing and threw it away with a cry. He covered the distance to her balcony in three quick strides and threw open the doors. Two bounding steps later and he was standing on the railing, looking out over his Labyrinth, trying to figure out just where she was on her path. Eyeing the position of the sun, Jareth realized that she'd been out there all day. If she's not on her way back by now, then she's still in the darkness, he realized with mounting terror. The Labyrinth stared back, taunting him with its giant size, daring him to do his worst. Jareth accepted the challenge, and flung himself from the balcony, transforming into owl-Jareth and soaring to the darkness in the east.

If she was in the Labyrinth, on her way back, she should be fine. But if she was still in the darkness…Jareth wasn't going to lose her to the darkness. He would not allow it. He pumped his wings harder, and faster, penetrating the dark and gloomy atmosphere of the darkness in record time. Once there, he forced himself to fly in patient, evenly spaced circles, examining every scrap of darkness-covered ground for her familiar form. All the while terror and panic fueled his heart and his thoughts. How could she do this? How could she go to the darkness, alone?! She knows how dangerous it is, she knows it has claimed several lives already. How could she be so reckless as to put herself in such danger?! Jareth was so scared that he didn't have time to be angry. The darkness was different from the Labyrinth. When she'd walked off while he was sleeping a week ago, he'd been terrified that something had happened to her, but confident that she was in the Labyrinth somewhere, and that he could find her before something bad happened. But now, she was in the darkness, and that was all together different. Here the very air seemed to radiate a quiet, menacing aura. This place was dangerous.

In the center of the darkness was a lake, a lake that had previously been a popular summer retreat for the citizens of the Labyrinth. The rickety wooden dock Jareth now saw from his aerial perspective had once been a sturdy, beautiful platform that goblin and dwarf children had exuberantly bounded from each summer in search of a haven in the cool, blue waters. Not so anymore. Those formerly crystalline, azure waters stared up at him, black, murky, and bottomless. Jareth's heart gave a start: Sarah was on the shore of the lake, walking towards the dock. She was alive, she was fine, and she had to be stopped before she set foot on that unstable dock and fell into those black waters.

Owl-Jareth pulled his wings in close to his body, feeling the chilly air rush past him as he dove quickly to reach Sarah. The dive lasted an eternity in Jareth's mind but at length he landed and transformed, directly facing the dock. He noticed two things straight away. First, he had no magic. Every scrap of power beyond that of a normal fae was stripped from him, sucked into the darkness. And second, Sarah was nowhere to be seen.

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Author's addendum: A bit of a cliffhanger...think you can wait a week to find out what happens next? Please review and I might update sooner...