A/N: Thanks so much to all those who reviewed and favourited, it really does help the motivation to keep going with the story!

Sarah Williams. Daughter. Sister. Friend. Writer.

With a smile she opened up the cardboard box that had been delivered to her door, marvelling at the smell of the fresh books. Laying a hand on them she could almost feel the warmth of the printers.

But there was a tickle in the back of her mind, a truth that only she knew. Written down on the pages of a book she could believe that the Labyrinth was just a story. Trapped in ink and paper she found that truly, she could sleep at night. She could talk about it openly, not in hushed conversations to Merlin. Hell, she could even read thesis upon thesis on the elusive Goblin King and his motives. Yet even reduced to a story, it did not stop her mind from drifting to it.

She wondered about Jareth mostly, pondering why she never saw him anymore. Ever since her mother's death he was strangely absent, leaving a peculiar feeling of abandonment. At the thought she hushed her mind with a sharp pinch. She was going through uncertain times and imagined him as some kind of anchor to her childhood. She repeated this to herself again and again. If she would allow herself to believe it had all happened...well…she didn't want to see the therapy bills for that.

She laid one hand on the books before her, tilting her head in amusement. Even though she had told herself time and time again that it wasn't real, she still couldn't bring herself to put down the right words onto the page. Call it superstition, but a small part of her didn't want to risk hundreds of children wishing away their siblings because she had told them how. So she lied, scribing the silly rhyme she had first cried out. It was almost funny; she never cared much for any other superstitions.

Flames burned low in the castle, casting an eerie glow across the vast library. No one had tended to them for hours, leaving the embers gasping for timber. But the lone figure slouched haphazardly across a reclining scarlet armchair hardly noticed. He was far too engrossed with a storybook reciting an all too familiar tale.

Jareth turned the page of the book, an eyebrow raised here and there at an outlandish detail, a smirk appearing whenever the author got it just right. But he thought his heart seemed to stop as his eyes fell on one particular passage.

As the girl closed her eyes, the stars began to dance and the heavens began to sing. She felt the weight of her lift until she felt like she was floating, fluttering until she became one with the breeze.

As she opened her eyes once more, the sight that greeted her both overwhelmed and delighted her. It was a ballroom. Cobwebs hung from candelabra, diamonds seemed to drip wine, and somewhere an orchestra played a chiming melody. It was enchanting in it's haunted beauty.

But as she stood, the delicate silk and lace of her gown grasping her figure, she knew she had to find him. The Goblin King.

Jareth stopped, taking a moment to gaze into the dying fire. The shadows danced across the walls, and just for a moment the icy blue of his eyes were haunted. He could almost hear the song he wrote just for her, he could feel the moment he tried to make her understand. He could see the gaze of her eyes. His body was near shaking, urging his mind to read on. He could scarcely believe that the thud of his heart was his own, that Sarah Williams had once again reduced him to a pathetic creature, not fitting of his title or crown. He reached over to the crystal decanter, pouring himself another glass of the wine, the liquid almost black in the dim lighting. He read on.

Her eyes widened as she met his gaze, her heart trembled with fear and foreboding. He stood across the room, surrounded by women in their regal dress. Yet he only seemed to see her. As he smiled he vanished from sight. She gave chase, following him across the ballroom, knowing that he was teasing her, taunting her. But then she felt his hands grip her waist, pulling her into a delicate dance. His eyes burnt into hers, the duality of them had always been frightening, but at that moment they were beautiful, ethereal in their gaze. He sang to her words of love, whispering of the stars and the moon. Her mind was torn, unable to decide if it was another of his cruel games. But then her mind betrayed her.

She felt another tremble in her heart and knew that it was not fear this time

It would be her darkest secret for years to come. In that moment the trembling of her heart told her that she desired him above all else. In that moment he stole away her dreams, replacing them with ones of him.

Jareth closed the book softly, releasing a breath he had not realised he had been holding. For so many years he had wondered what thoughts had crossed her mind as he offered himself to her. Now he knew. He was unsure if knowing made the betrayal and rejection any better. The fire that coursed through his veins whispered that it did not. The burn of his anger reminded him of the reason he had delved into the book. He was almost confounded when he had realised that she was the reason the right words were lost. She, a human girl, had interfered with an incantation older than time itself. How dare she. She spilled her lies into the world and in doing so banished himself and his kingdom to the ashes. If no one called upon them, if no one sought their magic, then he was sure they would simply all fade away. It had been hard for centuries; the absurd technological advancements of the human world had made them forget the magic. They no longer believed. He could see it in his Labyrinth as he walked its paths, sighing at the damaged brick and fallen branches. The walls did not shine quite like they used to. Now, after Sarah had spun her lies he was sure that they did not shine at all. He cursed himself for not noticing it before. The book was recent, almost freshly published. But it had already sewn its destruction.

Jareth stood from the chair, crossing to the window, his bones weary and mind troubled. It seemed like no matter how hard he tried to forget, she would always find a way to claw him back. She desired him. It was clear in the ink on the page, she dreamt of him. He wondered if that was the true reason for the pain he had seen in her before. She told herself it was the loss of his world and its magic, but could it truly be that it was the loss of him?

He suppressed a shiver in his spine. Maybe this was his chance. He promised himself that he would wait forever; maybe the dawn of his victory was sooner than he thought.

Pushing the glass window open he breathed in the night air. There it was, he could smell it. The life in his land was dying, ever so slowly. He could sense it.

The familiar prickling of feathers and the ache of his bones breaking took over as he soared into flight.

Sarah Williams had almost destroyed him; he would not let her destroy his world.

The dawn of a new day was approaching, and Sarah would soon know all she had done. And by the Gods of above and below, she would yield to him at last.