Disclaimer: Labyrinth is not mine.

A/N: Thank you so very much for the reviews! They brighten my days immensely. Kou Shun'u, hazlgrnLizzy, emeraldlily06, The Lady of the Trees, Cybernetic Mango- you are all amazing. Enjoy!

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 11: Sweet Intentions

Eran was utterly lost.

But it wasn't in regard to his current location.

After leaving Elder Tower on horseback, he'd turned westward towards the Labyrinth and began the trek through the great plains between. He'd traveled this way so many times, shuttling countless tasks between kingdoms. So often, in fact, that he wondered if his parents had known he'd become the High King's 'errand boy' when they'd named him 'Eran'.

No. He knew exactly where he was; just not where he was going. He lost himself in his thoughts.

'Somewhere in the Goblin Kingdom' was about as vague a destination as the High King had ever given. Jareth, reclusive as he was, kept watch over a sizable enough area to lose an ocean in; or a great sea at the very least. His extensive duty was one of the reasons he got away with conversing solely with the High King. If he chose to socialize at all, that was.

This locational ambiguity, combined with the High King's unspoken reasons for wanting the runner record for Sarah Williams, made his mission all the more daunting. Eran had seen Cáel anxious before, but not like he had been regarding the Goblin King's library. It was unnerving to know this task was immensely important.

And he had absolutely no idea where to look first.

Within the part of the Labyrinth used for The Game was out of the question; the last thing he needed to do was accidently enter his name into the process. Furthermore, he was optimistic that Jareth wouldn't keep his personal records in such an ever-changing location. Certainly, he needed to be able to find them at will. The castle was likely, as was the surrounding city where he'd heard most of the goblins lived, but Eran had never actually been past the outer walls of the Labyrinth. The inside was one grand mystery.

He did know that Jareth didn't take kindly to trespassers. When one locks themselves up in a castle with a near impossible maze as the only means in—unless you were the Goblin King himself of course—guests seemed neither expected nor welcome. Eran wondered absently if any Undergrounder not from the Goblin Realm had ever managed, let alone tried, to get through to speak with him face to face. It was unlikely; he hadn't heard of such a conversation.

He had to try though. To get through the maze, that was. Just not the sections allotted to The Game. It was a good thing he'd been a Watcher for even a brief period; he knew generally where not to go in the immense structure. He had to try the unused paths.

I need to get to the southern gate. That'd be the furthest from The Game.

He hoped the Goblin King was occupied with his charge, and that she would still be competing for some time. This mission wouldn't be quick.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Goblin King was indeed at the moment busy with Sarah Williams. Opening his eyes, he slipped silently out of the girl's thoughts. She was certainly full of surprises. She hadn't needed his help at all with the second task. She hadn't needed any help.

His Sarah still had her same inner fire; a combination of ingenuity, bravery, and spunk. She was learning fast too; adapting to the changes taking place within her exceptionally well. He'd been nervous when he'd formed his plan at awakening her—young users could do great damage untrained—but there hadn't been time. He'd needed the quickest emotional response from her. She'd already been angry with him; it was the right move to make. It was the logical choice.

Then why did he have to keep telling himself that?

He'd wanted to comfort her on the bridge, to whisper sweet nothings into her hair and stroke her flawless skin. He'd wanted to trace the outline of her painted lips with his gloved fingers, a hair away from touching her mouth; to have kissed away her worries…

He scowled. It would have never worked that way. Sarah would have rejected his advances a third time and she'd never have fully tapped into the magic he'd given her. Above, it was charming directors and audiences; petty tricks of the eye. He wondered why Sarah never questioned her fortuitous success on stage; particularly when critics called her performances 'magical'. Mortals just never paid attention to reviews. But Underground those unconscious illusions wouldn't have been enough. She needed the whole gift.

He didn't regret his actions after she spoke the words; it was what her dream had been. He couldn't deny her anything.

She may not fear him, love him, or do as he said, but he would always be her slave.

So he'd blanketed her with Labyrinthine magic. His magic.

In hindsight, he should have thought through his gift's consequences. He hadn't counted on his secret to cause so much trouble. It probably wouldn't have been as noticeable if The Game hadn't insisted that Sarah was a rightful challenger. What an oversight on his part. Of course Sarah would be called back down; she was a previous Labyrinth victor and hummed with a powerful immortal magic. Furthermore, it was the very same magic keeping The Game.

Perhaps he'd hoped no unfortunate accidents removed Underground leaders in her prolonged lifetime. The Game took place only so often; three or so times a millennium.

He didn't think fate wasn't on his side.

It was too late to brood over the situation. Sarah was immersed in her test and at least with the magic of The Game itself coursing through her, she was as prepared as time would allow.

One more task, and then he would see her again at the midway point. Even if Sarah rallied against him, the short visit would be heavenly. He settled in to watch the angry squabble on the bidding floor. Apparently some were not pleased with the way challengers were faring.

He didn't care. He was pleased.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"So, where are we going again?" Sarah arched an eyebrow at her small companion.

"We've just passed the second wall with that last task. Presuming the seven sins represent seven walls, we are currently in the third area".

She shook her head. "No, I got that. I mean, what is the end of this thing? The Goblin King's castle?" Sarah's subconscious prayed that it was. Stop it!

"That was what I was led to believe". Rosalyn seemed confident enough.

"And the ones who di—don't make it, that is, they just, disappear? They're gone forever?"

Rosalyn nodded tightly, but didn't turn to face the brunette.

Sarah sighed. "This Game sure brings new meaning to the phrase 'seven deadly sins', doesn't it?"

"If you are just going to badger me with questions, you can go back to running on your own. We aren't required to help each other. It contradicts my intentions, really. Only one will win, and I don't intend to spend my last moments in this Labyrinth". Rosalyn gave the brunette a half-hearted glare and a knowing smirk. It reminded Sarah of him.

"R-right. S-orry".

"Hm. You are fortunate that I would much rather ensure you are my sole challenger at the final sin than the rest of them. Rightful heirs just aren't who they used to be".

"What? Sole challenger…?"

Rosalyn groaned emphatically. "You truly know nothing about The Game do you?"

Sarah grinned sheepishly and gave her an apologetic shrug.

"Then Melina was right. It was quite a feat for you to have made it past the first test. Didn't your Watcher go through the process?"

"I bet my first Watcher, Eran, would have…" Rosalyn's brow furrowed at the comment. "…but Jareth's been a dodgy bastard so far. Barely explained his way around a fork in the road".

"The Goblin King is your Watcher?" The Elvin girl couldn't keep the incredulity from her voice as she stared back blankly.

"Why is it that whenever I tell someone that, they all look at me like I've grown three heads? Yes. The Goblin King is my Watcher and before you ask, no, I didn't choose him".

Rosalyn was silent for a few seconds. "No". She paused again, pensive. "No, you couldn't have. It doesn't work that way. The Watcher chooses his or her charge. It's a rather important position; usually filled by companions or guardians of the competitor. A semblance of trust and devotion between the two is necessary for the runner to stand a chance at surviving. Communication is also key". Rosalyn stopped, but the scrunched look on her face suggested she was still considering something.

Well. That 'communication' may explain the subconscious conversations. But Watchers choosing?

"I didn't know Eran before I was dragged back down here…" she trailed off questioningly.

"Your case is a bit different, I suppose. The High King probably appointed someone whom he trusted as your Watcher. There aren't many challengers who hail from Above". She flexed her fingers, mumbling numbers to herself. "I can only think of one other in my lifetime".

"So what, two of us in 100 years? 200?"

"I should be flattered you think of me as young, but after 890 years, I've become almost immune to compliments". She smiled.

"890…" Sarah gaped. "That's incredible. I can't even imagine what it must feel like to live that long". I wonder how old he is…?

Stop it Sarah. Stop thinking about him!

"It's too bad you are a rightful heir, then. You may have found out otherwise".

"What?" Sarah was growing tired of the phrase.

So was Rosalyn. "Certainly you've noticed the changes since you've been down here? Preliminaries should have been proof enough." At Sarah's vacant expression, she elaborated. "One cannot stay in this world and not be affected by its magic. Stay here long enough and you'll start to become a part of it".

"But I've only been here a day! Well, not including my first time here. But still, that's two days at the most. For a world controlled by immortality, isn't that a bit fast?"

"Which is one of the reasons why I've decided to keep close to you for the time being". She focused her sapphire eyes on Sarah's with a determined stare. "There's more to you than meets the eye".

Sarah frowned, but didn't argue. She'd let the girl wonder all she wanted. She knew she wouldn't uncover anything.

Sarah didn't even know why was different than the other Aboveground challengers, and the answer was often mockingly accented through her head.

Rosalyn hadn't stopped moving through Sarah's interrogation and had now led the brunette to a crumbling stone bench in an intersection of five paths. They both sat, Rosalyn untying the knot of her parcel and digging around inside aimlessly. "Damn".

"Something wrong?"

"Nothing serious. I was just hoping a bidder would have sent a token by now. I could at least do with some food before we reach the third enchantment". She moved to re-lace the straps.

"Can't you just magic some food?"

Rosalyn arched an eyebrow at the crude terminology. "I could, but personally conjured nourishment never replenishes one's own strength. You are just recycling your own power in another form". She eyed Sarah skeptically. "I don't suppose you know how to conjure food, do you?"

Sarah shook her head. "No, but I've got a tomato if you want it. Never been a big fan of them, really". Sarah pushed her sack towards Rosalyn. "Here, it's in the bigger pocket".

"Feeding the competition now? Definitely more to you than meets the eye…" her own eyes laughed as she opened Sarah's bag. "I believe I'll accept your offer before you change your mi—". She froze mid-grab, an unreadable expression on her face. "I don't believe it".

Before Sarah could repeat her innocuous question word, Rosalyn was pulling a plethora of silken kerchiefs from the bag and tossing them roughly into Sarah's lap. The fabric was beautiful; colors too bright for her world intricately embroidered with shining thread. The squares fluttered in the breeze as they spread across the bench seat.

"You have been carrying quite a bit more than a tomato, Sarah. When in Orion's name did you get all this?"

"I—I don't know".

Rosalyn kept digging through the pack. "Impossible". She pulled her arm out, something round and the color of a sunset secured within her small fist. "Do you have any idea what this is?" Her voice held an air of incredulity again.

"A peach." Sarah clenched her teeth in recognition. "Another peach! How dare he—".

Rosalyn cut her off. "How dare he? I cannot believe you. Do you know how prized peaches are in the Underground? What they signify?"

"Obviously not, since I don't live here, remember?"

"This is not the time to be sarcastic. Peaches are a deeply serious matter. They signify a giver's lifetime intentions for the recipient. Usually, they are tokens of affection or appreciation but sometimes, they can even be proposals".

"Proposals? A piece of fruit?!"

"The peach is not a common fruit here. Something in our soil fights the growth as soon as we try and plant them. Only those of high standing have been able to nurse them to their prime. I've heard it takes a great deal of magic". Rosalyn's voice was light and airy, her mind clearly spinning with considerations.

Sarah was rapt with attention.

"You should be honored. Some powerful bidder must have his eye on you".

"Bidder…?"

"I've just explained that bidders send tokens, haven't I?" The Elvin girl became agitated, tossing the peach on the pile of kerchiefs in Sarah's lap. "The kerchiefs are ones as well. You seem to have attracted a great deal of interest".

Sarah didn't hear the last few comments; she was lost in memories of her first trip through the Labyrinth. Hoggle had given her a peach and he'd said it had come from Jar—

What had he been playing at? And what was he doing now?

"Sarah, did you say you'd received one before?" Her look was mildly accusing.

With Rosalyn's sudden change in demeanor, Sarah reconsidered her honesty. She needed to keep the past to herself for the time being if even this gift caused suspicion. Furthermore, she didn't know what the Goblin King wanted yet.

She channeled her inner actress. "Me? No. My dad just receives an obscene amount of holiday fruit baskets. One of the perks of being the boss I guess. I don't eat the fruit; never liked them".

Part of it was true. But peaches had been one of her favorite fruits prior to that spelled bite. Sarah eyed the offensive fruit in her lap sourly. She just hadn't touched one since.

"Very well. Don't eat it then". The Elvin girl jumped to her feet. "You can keep your tomato. I'm leaving".

"Hey, wait! What's up with you all the sudden?"

"If you have to ask, you haven't been listening to what I've said". Rosalyn huffed over her shoulder, picking one of the four hedge lined paths they had yet to travel, and hurriedly taking it. "We should be near the third test".

Sarah followed.

On the bench, a pile of kerchiefs and a single peach covered a fresh engraving for The Game. Unfortunately for the competitors, neither had seen it.

~*~*~

Darkness was falling fast across the Labyrinth. Sarah and Rosalyn had been meandering through a particularly tall section of hedge maze for what seemed like hours, and their weariness was seeping in with the night. They had yet to see anything but miles of thorny brush; trapping them in corners and leading them to numerous dead ends. It was uncomfortably reminiscent of the hedge maze where Sarah had met Ludo. She sighed, hoping he was alright.

"We should have come to the next test by now". Rosalyn's airy voice was puzzled. "It's been hours of nothing but hedges".

Sarah turned her wrist so the watch faced upwards. Even at dusk, the bright colors were visible. "No change. Either nobody has gotten there yet, or they have, and all made it past".

"The first is more likely. The Game wouldn't be that easy. In the past, the whole process has lasted a few days at most and there are still seven challengers left".

"Could we have passed it? Moved on to the fourth area?" Sarah was hopeful.

"Not possible. The rules specify that every test must be completed in order to progress. You couldn't miss one if you wished so". She smirked. "And believe me, competitors have tried".

"Figures. The one time I really want—"

Something rustled in the brush to the right, startling Sarah mid-complaint. "What was that?"

Rosalyn didn't respond, but held a tiny finger to her lips in a shushing position. Sarah frowned and tried to steady her pattering heart. The darkness was making her jumpy.

A louder rustling to the left this time. Both girls spun towards the sound, one anxiously waiting its reveal, and one simply anxious. Neither spoke but watched in awe as a white shadow moved over the horizon, shaking hedges as it flowed.

Sarah didn't know what to make of it. Who had ever heard of a white shadow? But she was certain that was what it was. The form was impermanent; a shifting cloud masking the brush. It was larger than the oasis' demon form, but smaller than oasis itself. And it was coming closer.

Sarah did the only thing that came to her mind. She ran. Barely escaping Rosalyn's attempt to grab her, she pounded down the hedge corridor in alarm. Shadows had been a particularly haunting vision of hers recently, black or white, dream or not; and she had no intention of waiting to see what it was.

The wind had joined the shadow's attack now, growling and pushing against the greenery. The whole maze was shaking left to right, back and forth and moaning as if they were being ripped to shreds. The force of the wind was shoving the crying walls into the girl and she swatted blindly at brambles as she ran. A vine bit into the tender skin of her arms and she cringed, the fresh cut bleeding a dark red. She had to get out from the hedges. She needed air.

Sarah kept running.

Crashing into walls and pushing overturned roots aside, she frantically twisted through a darkening hedge maze. There had to be an exit somewhere, or shelter, or something besides the brush. Where were those oubliettes and tunnels when one needed them?

Sarah didn't see the metal barrier before her until she had plowed face first into it. Cursing, she grabbed her throbbing nose and regarded the structure with watering eyes. It was another gate, a silvered antique with two tall swinging doors and identical cupid-like statues on stone platforms. In their chubby hands were matching bows, golden arrows strung but resting against cherubic legs. The metallic weapon looked considerably odd against the stone of the statue, but Sarah shrugged it off as an architectural afterthought. String would have been hard to carve from stone.

Without another thought, she forced open the gate with a rusty yell, threw herself into the opening, and dove under the shelter of a low leaning tree. Breathing heavily, she pulled her knees to her chest in an attempt to disappear into the background. The branches were low enough to cover most of her form from whatever had been chasing her and her heart gratefully reverted to an even tempo. Silence drifted through the air, mingling with a sugary sweet scent that soothed her fears.

Eventually, she must have fallen asleep.

For an indeterminable amount of time, faceless dancers and soft silks filled her dreams.

As did her pining search for Jareth.

~*~*~

An expectedly frustrated Sarah woke just as the new sun grazed the trunk of her shelter, and she cursed the Labyrinth for sending her the same disturbing longings. The whole scene was somewhat crude, with exaggerated hand signals and the hijacking of the trunk as a punching bag in an effort to distract her from the warmth humming throughout her body. Although pointed, her complaints brought no response from the internally laughing entity.

Suckling her now throbbing fist, she warily placed the surroundings which had saved her from what she believed was the third task; the white shadow.

It was a small orchard of sorts. A dozen or so rows of misshapen fruit trees sat patiently in line, their bounty dangling from leafy bows. Sarah's mouth watered as the smell of ripe pears, plums, apples, cherries, and peaches wafted around her. She hadn't anything since yesterday's soup and bread and the healing mead had long run its course.

It would have been so easy to reach out and grab the velvet plum bobbing before her…

No Sarah. Hunger good, Underground fruit bad. Hunger good, fruit bad. Sarah chanted forcefully, trying to convince herself that she didn't want the alluring fruit. But the sugary scent was making it very hard to focus. She needed to leave before she did something stupid.

Like picking a peach.

A bit stiff, she scooted from the makeshift cavern and started towards a large gate across from the cherub guarded one she'd entered last night. She hoped it lead to the fourth stage and vaguely wondered why she hadn't seen a sign detailing the third task. The first two sins had them…

"Ohhh my…" An airy voice moaned in ecstasy, breaking Sarah's concentration. "Delicious…You can't leave without tasting one Sarah".

Sarah knew that voice. "Rosalyn? Is that you?"

A pink clothed figure poked her head from behind a gorgeous peach tree, golden juices dripping from her painted lips. "Of course it's me. You shouldn't have run off like that earlier". She took a purposeful bite of the half-eaten fruit in her hand.

"What are you doing? You shouldn't be eating the fruit!"

"Why ever not? The fruit is sweet and we eat it all the time. Don't you?"

"Yes, but Rosalyn, that's a peach!" Sarah was growing frantic. She didn't want her near friend bewitched by magical fruit. Something in the orchard wasn't quite right…

"I know". It came out as a purr. "I've never imagined a fruit could taste like heaven". She finished the first piece, and reached to grab another. "Come on Sarah, this is my third one. You have to try one. If not a peach, a pear or plum!"

"Your third one?" Sarah paused at that. "And you feel fine…? No blackouts? Spinning rooms? Crazy shadows?"

"What a silly question. Crazy shadows…" her voice faded out as she bit again, tossing a pear she pulled from another tree at Sarah. "Go on. They are all perfectly ripe".

Rosalyn was right; the sage colored delicacy in Sarah's palm was plump and firm, its flowery scent soaking deep into the pores of her skin. She wanted a bite. Oh how badly she wanted a bite…

Something gold glinted in the rising sun, catching Sarah's eye, and she paused to eye the angels atop the stone pillars. The taut bows and arrows pointed at her face reflected a blinding light.

How odd, I could have sworn the statues had been facing out from the orchard last night.

"Hey Rosalyn, were those statues pointing in when you found this orchard?"

The Elvin girl didn't comment, gluttonously devouring a fourth peach some yards away.

I'm certain they were outwards last night.

Struggling to prevent the sweet temptation from clouding her senses, Sarah stretched her pear filled hand out from her chest and dropped the fruit. Another glint shifted in her vision.

And weren't the bows pointed down earlier as well?

"Rosalyn…I think we should leave. There's something off about those statues…"

The small girl threw a plum forcefully at Sarah and the brunette caught it roughly in surprise, releasing violet juices down her arm. She couldn't stop herself from moving to lick the sticky substance from her skin…

Something sharp grazed the skin of her ear and Sarah fell to the ground instinctively.

"Rosalyn, get DOWN!"

A disjointed laugh met the command. "It's no good Sarah; you've already sampled the fruit. Your Game is over". Rosalyn's form was fading, her rosy outline lightening to a milky sheen. "Rosalyn will be pleased; one less competitor for her to outlast".

Oh no. Ohnonononono. Shit. What did I do?

The form wasn't Rosalyn anymore, but she recognized it nonetheless.

Sarah screamed.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Next: Sarah deals with the consequences of her actions, and Jareth counts down to the midway Watcher-charge reunion. Will Sarah make it there in one piece?