A/N: Important note! I find myself in need of a little more explanation now that the story really is beginning. I'm really feeling the pressure of the first real reunion between Jareth and Sarah, so please be gracious, haha.

Most importantly I want to point out that I'm a writer who portrays realistic relationships so this won't be an instant "we're in love!" sort of story. I believe in the build up and the careful formation of real love and that these two aren't already madly in love with each other. I may write fantasy, but I always keep the people grounded. There are plenty of other stories I'm sure that bring instant satisfaction to the romantics inside of us, but this is not one of them. Oh, but it will make the end results even more worth it ;)

Like I said before, I've read hardly any Labyrinth stories on here, but I did a little research and discovered some of my ideas were really cliché and overused. It was a little discouraging, but if clichés are done well they don't seem so clichéd, so I'm really hoping nothing in my story seems that way. Yes, I took the Fey route like many others apparently, but it fits so well with what I'm planning. And I have such great plans for where it's all going!

I really really hope this meeting lives up to all your expectations! I poured over this a long time trying to make sure they were in character and this might be what was said after all that's happened. It wouldn't be realistic to not have any tension or resentment whatsoever after what Sarah did. These two have got some things to work through, but that's what will be so fun!

I'm done chatting away. Enjoy my dear readers! And thank you so much to all who gave me such encouraging reviews! Hope to hear from you again after this :)

Chapter Five: It's Not Always Swell

...

...

The years may have touched her and urged her to womanhood, but the King of the Goblins stood unchanged as if not one day had passed since last they looked upon one another. Though she had encountered him before, after all these years his appearance struck her afresh; especially with the added perspective that was not from the eyes of a young girl. And yet the impressions remained similar. He inspired great awe, intimidation, and marvel simply with his presence.

His pale hair glinted in the sun that peered around the clouds, spiked and long in its unusual style, and his skin was still that clear fairness not quite human. He wore tight black breeches, a white shirt, and a black mantle with a high collar much like the one he donned the very first time he stood before her. His tall, lithe figure was framed not simply with clothes but with grandeur and imposing confidence that rolled off him like waves of water: he was no mere man or inexperienced youth. His bearing was of one long in years, confident in identity, and assertive with abilities that mere mortals did not possess.

But over all these things his eyes pierced to her very soul.

As soon as she had moved from the ground, he flew forward so that her study of him became more detailed as he approached. Those eyes never strayed from her as he drew closer and closer until they were only about five feet apart. She was starkly reminded how intimidating he could be so close and personal with those strange eyes taking her in but his thoughts completely hidden.

"There is no time," he spoke in his aristocratic tones that were deep and clear. "He will strike again at any moment. Come with me and he will not reach you."

Not really the words she imagined at meeting for the first time in years. But they had just survived an attack by a darkly powerful creature. What words did she expect?

"Where?"

"Where else? The only place you will be safe."

"The Underground," she murmured after tearing her eyes away from his.

He regarded her with a serious expression, but if she had really looked she might have seen the desperation in the depths of his gaze, the tension in his muscles, or the hard set of his jaw that all belied his true emotions. The brief battle had not been without feeling, but he had schooled his features as soon as Sarah turned towards him.

With a smooth flourish of his gloved hand, he placed it palm upwards in an offer to her. It vaguely resembled a time seven years ago when he proffered up the same hand, that time with a crystal resting there with a promise of fulfilled dreams. This time was only his hand. Or was it? Unseen offerings might have lain there strung with hope.

It was either remain here and risk facing the man she thought was Bran or take her risks in the hands of the Goblin King. What would he do once he had her back in his realm? They hadn't exactly parted on good terms. Did he have to come if called upon? She hadn't used 'I wish' though, so it had to be more than obligation.

There was only one way to find out.

Without another minute's hesitation she laid her delicate white hand in his. Her will faltered in that moment for a ghost of a smirk appeared on his lips the instant their hands met.

They vanished.

Sarah had returned to the Underground.

The Underground. The labyrinth.

Jareth the Goblin King.

Sarah closed her eyes to stifle a wave of dizziness sweeping over her. The leap from Aboveground in her world to this one had not been as smooth as the first time. One moment they were in a field under an open sky and the next they stood in a familiar stone castle.

When she dared to look again, she peered around with a little confusion for as familiar as it was it also was different than she remembered. It was the throne room but it was much larger than before—although still circular in shape—all the goblin filth was cleared away, and its trappings were a bit less barbaric looking. The stones of its construction were a warm colour built to stand against passing time in high-reaching walls that formed into a domed roof. The throne used to be shaped from a bone-like structure draped with cloth but now it was pale smooth stone cut with intricate detail into the partial wall behind, a black dosser hanging on the high back. Tall rectangular windows looked out over an expansive view of the goblin kingdom: the castle grounds walled in the midst of the Goblin City, the city itself with its quaint clusters of medieval-looking buildings, the mysterious forest stretched out dark green in the middle layers, and then the meandering walls of the vastly complex labyrinth fading into the distance.

And then she realised she was being watched. A kingly figure leaned against the wall to her right.

She wished she could understand his expression, but unfortunately she still had difficulty reading him when he didn't want to be read. Those pale eyes bored into her from a distance, time lost in a meeting of old acquaintances with great depths unspoken between them.

"Thank you," said Sarah. She was surprised at the steadiness of her voice however soft it sounded in the air. It was a phrase she never thought she would say to this man until today.

As if her voice had broken a spell, the enigmatic Goblin King finally stirred and gradually approached step by step. Each step made Sarah's heartbeat quicken. What was he thinking? She was dying to know, to hear him speak even one word. His presence was powerful, and she felt small. He towered over her, but she did not look away or show any signs of her unease.

After it seemed days had passed between them, the King of the Goblins spoke.

"Do not thank me yet, Sarah. It remains to be seen whether I've actually done you a service or not."

Twice now she was taken aback by his choice of words. Don't be silly again, she told herself. Just because he made you a rather profound offer years ago doesn't mean he's about to become a poetic sop falling all over your feet or throwing around nostalgia. You really think he wants to bring up what happened last time?

Before she found words to respond with, he drew even closer with a crease between his brows as he studied her face. A bit of a blush flamed in her otherwise pale cheeks at his close scrutiny. She became highly aware of the lavender dress she still wore with its flowing material and thin straps that left a lot of skin exposed. From his features it seemed he didn't like what he saw, and in some way that disappointed her after girlishly enjoying his attention when she was fifteen.

Her assumption suddenly proved false.

He reached out a black-gloved hand, softly caught her jaw, and tilted her head to the side. His eyes lingered on her right cheek where there was more than a blush tinting her skin red. In that simple act and the nearness she finally saw more of the emotions mingling in his gaze for what they were: contained fury and...was that concern? His fingertips gently brushed the mark Fiachna had left.

"He struck you." The Goblin King's voice was low and intent. "I didn't get there in time."

Sarah drew in a shaky breath as he drew away his hand and put more distance between them. "You made it right on time actually," she said. "I was lucky to get only this from that...that creature."

It was as if they spoke words other than what they actually wanted to say. Sarah struggled internally whether or not she was safe in his keeping, for as much as she wanted to trust him she really didn't know him much better than she had known Bran—or Fiachna as he called himself. Besides, she was the girl who defeated him and left him behind, so she had no idea how he would treat her.

What did one say to the man you'd rejected and told he had no power over you? She didn't think she would ever see him again. Now here he was in the flesh.

"What just happened back there?" she questioned softly.

"You, Sarah, got yourself into yet another predicament within the Underground."

"How is that? I didn't do anything this time."

"Didn't you?" he said sharply. "Entangling yourself with a dark and powerful mage who is extremely dangerous and then returning here to my kingdom. You do tend to draw trouble to yourself."

The accusation in his tone stirred her annoyance. "That's not fair! How was I supposed to know who he really was? He was my friend and acted like any other guy I'd met, even sometimes like...like you." She pursed her lips and realised what had just come out of her mouth. Maybe there was something about being back here that brought out the teenager in her again. Or it was the Goblin King. He enjoyed pushing buttons a little too much, but at least this time she was an adult. She hoped so at least, although that cursed phrase popped out of her mouth anyway.

"Did he?" Those pale eyes flickered with an emotion unintelligible. "Well, he is cunning, but I expected you of all people to see through that façade."

How had this turned into an argument? That tinge of bitterness in his voice was chafing, and his accusations were rubbing her the wrong way. She clamped her mouth shut to avoid spouting off things she would regret later. She couldn't let him push her over the edge.

Maybe I deserve it after what I did to him...

"The Raven Mage is a powerful being," said the king. He clasped his hands behind his back and began to slowly pace the throne room. Whenever he passed by the windows, beams of sunlight shimmered in his pale hair like gold glinting. "He hasn't been seen or heard of for many long years, so to find him in your Aboveground after all this time is...curious."

"Curious?" she scoffed. Her fiery spirit was winning over feelings of intimidation. She reminded herself that this was the same man she conquered with her words years ago. "Trying to kidnap and kill me isn't curious! It was terrifying! I didn't know if he was going to kill me, torture me, or who knows what else. I don't even know who he is or why he wanted anything to do with me."

He rounded on her with a stern voice. "And you should be frightened, Sarah. At last you are afraid when you should be. You would have become his captive, not his victim, but that would've been far worse than death. Why he followed you and sought to abduct you is a mystery." His tone quieted a little. "And why call out to me for help, Sarah?"

So there it was: the question she'd been expecting yet hoping would be avoided.

"I..." She fumbled for words but couldn't find any she wanted to say out loud. Why did she call out for him? Perhaps because he was the only one she knew who could help her. That's what she decided to tell him.

At her answer his sternness turned into a sneer as he harshly angled his body away from her and stared out one of the open windows. "Always asking things of me. Always wanting from me. And always expecting it to be done freely." He whirled around. "Am I to grant all your wishes and all your whims simply because you ask?"

The words stung, though more so because of the tone behind them. Not a word was yelled at her, but his clipped voice was enough. She gaped at him quietly.

"So my screaming for your help when I was being attacked was simply a whim?" Her voice raised and her hands moved with expression. "Yes, asking for Toby to be taken away was a whim and foolish wish I didn't know the consequences of. But this? I needed..."

She cut off abruptly. I needed you, she nearly said. Her breath came in sharply. If she had finished that statement that would have buried her in embarrassment in the presence of this dangerous being. But it was true. In that moment of fear she had needed his help, had needed him to rescue her; she just didn't want to voice it quite like that to him.

"I needed help," she said instead. "I needed help, and so I asked for it. Maybe I should've just let that mage take me and you wouldn't have this burden."

She turned her back to him and stalked out of the throne room by the nearest door. It happened to be the arched entrance that had led to the mystifying Escher-inspired room by a winding stairway. After running up the stone steps until she was sure she couldn't be seen, Sarah collapsed. Her back rested against the wall and let its chill seep into her skin while the lilac folds of her dress fell around her legs, and her bare feet curled against the rough stone, her shoes forgotten in the nameless field.

"What's going on?" she whispered faintly. "I didn't wish for anything this time. Why did Br—Fiachna want me so badly? I don't understand!"

Sarah and the Goblin King had been adversaries once upon a time, yet the more she considered it the less she wanted to be adversaries again. For some reason this Raven Mage frightened her far worse than the Goblin King ever had with that blatant deceit and terrifying visage when he attacked her. The king never attacked her. Well, not really. He did send his goblin army after her and her friends to stop them from reaching the castle, but it definitely seemed different to her than a darkly powerful being physically assailing her and admitting his desire to cause her harm. This was not a game. This was life and death.

That made her feel vulnerable and in need of someone to protect her. She was strong and determined, but sometimes there was a force that you couldn't face alone.

And at last all the emotions stirring like a storm inside her broke loose. Her eyes brightened with the sheen of tears, and they trickled down her cheeks till they dripped onto her dress. She didn't understand why she was attacked. She didn't understand why the Goblin King brought her to his castle. She didn't understand why he had grown so angry.

Most of all she didn't understand why it hurt so much.

An indeterminable amount of time passed as Sarah sat on the stairs in the Goblin King's castle. Her tears had dried, and her mind had turned to her friends back in the Aboveground at Jessica's wedding. Would they have missed her yet? Or would they even notice her and Bran were gone until it was over?

A squeak and a loud throat-clearing snapped her attention towards the bottom of the stairway. A squat little goblin with large dark eyes and a round belly stood there shuffling his feet and tugging on his leather coat with thick fingers. When she looked at him he squeaked again as his eyes darted everywhere but to her.

"H-His Majesty, uh, says the lady's to be shown her...her room."

This was the first goblin she'd seen since arriving back here. Now that they weren't coming after her or trying to keep Toby away, she thought they were almost kind of...cute. In a strange goblin-creature way of course.

"Wait. My room?"

"Uh, yes," the poor critter stammered. "Your own room's been made up for ya and everything. All nice and...uh, nice."

After everything that had happened that day, a small smile finally lit her face. "Well, where is it then?"

"Oh! Follow me!" His stubby little legs leaped up the stairs one by one until he passed her by and continued on up. He waved a broad brown hand at her to follow.

She stood up on her feet, hesitated a moment in bewilderment, and slowly followed the squat goblin. She didn't understand how these stairs would lead to anything but that strange room with the maze of staircases, walls, and doors; but, sure enough, when they reached the top it opened into a long, wide hall with no Escher room in sight. A runner of burgundy and dark grey ran down the entire length of the corridor floor, and on the right wall tapestries hung like banners from the high ceiling nearly to the floor in the same colours of the rug without design or symbol. To the left was a line of broad windows set deep in the wall which left a ledge wide enough to sit on and arches built above.

The goblin realised she had stopped and waved his hand frantically at her again. Down at the end of the hall was a door made of a material that was almost like pale marble with the face of a woman sculpted into the middle with hair streaming out all around her with flowers and vines intertwined. The goblin hobbled up to it and waited. She stepped forward with a hand reached out to touch the smooth sculpture, and as soon as her fingers brushed the surface, the door swung gradually inwards. She jumped back and watched as her new room opened to her.

Three steps went down into an expansive chamber with ceilings as high as the rest of the castle, the same stonework, and more colour than she imagined would be in such a place after the bareness of her first visit. The castle had changed somewhat since last she saw it. Or was this room made especially for her and her comfort?

Where the ceiling met in a peak there hung a large chandelier twined with silver and crystal shaped like swirls and waves of water. To the right side was a giant bed with canopies draped over the top and hanging in diaphanous folds to the floor, all its material of deep shades of plum and touches of dark gold. The blankets looked so soft and fluffy she was tempted to run over and collapse into them. She smirked slightly when she saw the elaborate, cream-coloured vanity with a mirror framed with carved vines, like the one in her old room but so much finer. A few chairs sat on the left in a sitting area with cushions the same colour as the purple bedcovers. Other details she soaked in quickly before glancing over her shoulder to see if the goblin was still around.

He fidgeted outside the door until she focused his direction. He bounced a little on his flat feet. "Is it to your sat...satis...uh, liking?"

"Very much, but why do I need a room like this? Does he plan to keep me here that long?"

The creature's large dark eyes rolled around trying to find a response. "His Majesty doesn't tell Greit secrets. Doesn't tell him much at all."

The goblin she assumed was called Greit turned and hobbled quickly back down the hall. She sighed and ambled over towards the bed that seemed to call out softly to her. When she settled onto the downy cover it turned out it was as soft and silken as it looked.

And so it wasn't long before she was drawn down into its pleasant folds and fell into a deep dreamless sleep.

Dawn arrived in the Underground with a warm wind and golden sunshine like liquid pouring over the land. Soft beams of sunlight fell through the windows of Sarah's room until they stretched out to the bed on which she lay sleeping. When the warm caresses of the sun touched her skin, Sarah stirred from rest and blinked awake. While her eyes were still blurry she rolled onto her back and stretched her legs with happy thoughts of waking from such strange dreams.

Her eyes cleared. She jolted upright on the cushy bed and glanced around the room. She threw herself back once the reality hit her: it had been no dream.

But she was not going to mope today. Today she would get answers and find out what was going on, maybe even figure out what to do to elude this Raven Mage so she could go back home.

"Do I want to go back?" she murmured into the cool morning air. "Wait!"

She sat up again in a flurry of movement and slid over the side of the bed. The chill of the stone floor sent a shiver over her skin and she hurried to a rug.

"My friends! Of course I can't go until I see them. Hoggle, and Ludo, and Sir Didymus. Oh!"

Sarah had caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and grimaced. The lavender dress was wrinkled and most the pins had fallen out of her hair so it tumbled down in disarray. She sat at the vanity, taking out the other pins and shaking out her long dark tresses until they had some semblance of order, but the dress she couldn't do anything about.

It doesn't matter, she told herself. It doesn't matter.

She bit back a scream when she saw a second figure in the mirror. She whirled around to find the Goblin King watching her unabashedly from across the room with his arms crossed, his posture relaxed, and a sparkle in his eye that was all too familiar. It felt like they were back in the labyrinth where he was about to loose another ploy to keep her from her goal.

"What are you doing in here?" she demanded. "Can't you at least knock?"

"And would you have let me in?"

"I...no, probably not."

Where yesterday he was all seriousness, today he seemed to be all mischievousness with that impish expression light upon his face as though always ready to smirk or smile for his audience.

"But still, there's a good reason I wouldn't let you in," she continued. "I don't want to see you right now."

"Not even for breakfast?"

He motioned at the side table next to him which she hadn't noticed before, and there sat a silver tray full of food. One platter had sweet pastries still steaming as if fresh out of the oven, and the other was stacked with an assortment of fruit ripe and vibrant. Her stomach grumbled hungrily at the delicious-looking food. To be honest, she felt famished since her last meal had been lunch the day before.

"I thought as much."

And with those words he slipped out the door before she could register he was leaving. She stared at it a few moments before cautiously approaching the tray that smelled more and more delicious the closer she came. But could she trust any food from that man, the one who had given her the drugged peach once before? She was so hungry that she decided she'd chance it.

Then she saw it. A peach sat in the midst of all the other fruit as if in taunt. She snatched it and proceeded to toss it out a window.

Fun Fact: I happen to live by the Bog of Eternal Stench (a.k.a. the sewer plant). I wouldn't want to be thrown in either...(and why they built that sucker out by us boggles my mind: stinkers)