AN: Guess what? This may be one of my favourite chapters. Just saying...That's probably because it's from Jareth's POV! What we've all been waiting for! Or maybe just me...ahem...

So, I know it's probably been done by 99.9% of Labyrinth writers, but I'm taking the Fey route for Jareth. Or Sidhe as I prefer since it's a bit more specific. I took the actual facts of myth about them and used those with perhaps a bit added from inference in the movie about what he personally can do. I've read all the Irish mythology and took from that, so there's a bit more explanation about our lovely Goblin King in this chapter. Sorry, but we still won't learn the true nature of his and Fiachna's feud till a few chapters from now, but eventually it will come into play. Honestly, I write a few chapters ahead to give myself room to go back and adjust if I need to, so I've already got it headed a certain direction :). If it's cliche, oh well. Psh. It's still going to have a good deal of original details and events.

Hopefully he doesn't come across too sappy or anything. He feels deeply, but I don't want him to be overly emotional. Eek! Can't wait to build their relationship more ;)

Enjoy diving into the thoughts of the Goblin King!

Chapter Seven: How You Turn My World

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Sarah Williams.

A name that had floated often in the forefront of his mind. Many days since he first saw her in the Aboveground in a green park with her costume, her dog, and her vivid imagination. She had been but a child in his eyes, but her beauty and innocence and passion had ensnared him heart and soul when she grew older. He had never seen such a delicate yet strong creature who had such reverence and love for his own world to the point of wishing it were real. He had never seen such life emanating from a mere mortal.

Jareth the Goblin King sat on his throne in a deceivingly languid position like a lounging feline that could spring at any moment. The throne room was empty save himself after he had ordered the goblins out for three days since Sarah's arrival; although every now and again he glimpsed a pair of eyes peeking in from the main hall.

In his solitude and quiet he remembered. He pondered. He longed for things that might not be.

Unless called upon, the Goblin King could not manifest in his true form in the world they called the Aboveground: the realm of mortals, the fragile human creatures that passed from the world so quickly like vapours or morning mist. They were a curious study to him, so he sometimes assumed his owl form to fly around their realm watching the interesting beings of great emotion and flightiness.

Jareth was one of the Sidhe whom the Irish had named Tuatha De Danaan. And as one of those beings he could sense certain things from great or short distances, drawn to particular humans who had connected themselves to the world of the Underground whether they realised it or not: people who believed in the stories or had desires for the stories to be reality, hoping for its existence and of the beings who inhabited it. Like a sensation or a whisper. It lingered on the air and drew Fey to it when they crossed that border between worlds.

One such case nine years ago—in human reckoning—was in a New England town in the country of America where he hadn't often strayed. His pale wings beat the air as he felt the pull towards someone partially connected to his world. In his descent from the frothy white clouds he circled the town until his sharp eyes spotted a large park with lawns of green, benches of stone, and a cold stream trickling through. An elderly couple walked along one of the paths off to the right, but far to the left of the park he narrowed in on a small figure huddled at the water's edge with their bare feet dipping into the stream. Down he continued to drop. He landed on a stone post close by. It was a young girl around thirteen years old or so as far as he could guess—he was approaching twelve hundred years so guessing mortal ages who were like children to him their whole lives was a bit difficult.

He flew to another closer post to get a good look at her, and he was a little taken aback. Young she was but it was clear she would be a great beauty someday. Her hair was long and richly dark like evening shadows in sharp contrast against her fair skin. Although her eyes weren't open enough for him to discern their colour, they were large and fringed with dark lashes. Somehow she reminded him of a statue from ages past that looked as though life had been breathed into it, her white feet glimmering in the clear water and her hair falling down around her in silken strands.

Jareth flapped his wings in startlement when a shaggy grey and white dog appeared on the other side of her and eyed his bird form warily. When the dog decided the owl wasn't a threat or a fun toy to chase, Jareth again studied the girl. Sorrow creased her brow as she watched the waters flow by, and her fingers absentmindedly pulled at the blades of grass next to her with a sense of melancholy. Just as he began to wonder why he was so drawn to her here and why she seemed so sad, her head lifted and she struggled to her feet.

"Oh Merlin!" she said to the dog. "You know what we need? An adventure!"

Now things are getting interesting, he thought. The dark-haired girl put her hands on her hips and swaggered away from the water's edge as if she donned some kind of persona. She whirled around pretending to clutch a sword aimed at the dog.

"You filthy goblin! I'm gonna gut you then take all your treasure," she cried with a flourish of her imaginary sword. "What have you to say?"

Aha. Now I see, he thought.

She proceeded to act out half a story with Merlin the dog before his slight interest began to deepen. Although she was very young and imagining some fantasy, her passion and her heart shone on her skin and in her voice like light sparkling off of the water nearby. Then she collapsed on the grass and stared up into the blue sky with a wistful expression.

Her eyes. They were green. Not green like the grass but more a mystical shade.

And full of such innocence as though some pure creature more from a part of his world than this one.

"Merlin," she murmured, "do you think Karen will love me like mom? What if they have a kid? I don't know if they'll like me very much then, and daddy will forget about me. Sarah, the daughter they didn't want anymore."

Sarah. The name rolled around in his mind. Ah, Sarah meaning 'princess,' he thought to himself. How fitting.

"I wish...I wish we could go off to some other place and have adventures," she continued. "Meet some goblins or some elves and have to fight for the people we love so we get a wonderful happy ever after. Do you think that exists, Merlin?"

Jareth couldn't explain why he felt so drawn to this mortal girl and the pain she carried in her beautiful eyes. Without really understanding why, he knew this wasn't the last time he would come visit her. Yes, there were other humans to see, but this girl captivated him in a way that caused the spark of an idea to enter his thoughts even as she stood and began to leave the park.

She obviously enjoyed stories. Well, maybe he would give her a grand tale she could treasure the rest of her short life to help ease the sorrow she suffered from her broken family and broken dreams.

He couldn't stand broken dreams.

Jareth opened his eyes as the memory faded. A week later he had carried a little red book in his talons and conveniently dropped it not far from Sarah so she would find it, a book crafted by his magic but not exactly written by him. The name Sarah meant 'princess'-which he thought fitting—so he made sure the main character was a lovely princess in a situation much like hers and then commanded the book to become a story that she needed most. How was he to know it would weave into a tale of foretelling? Two years later she still was reading it and quoting lines from the pages in that same park when her troubles had grown worse as soon as a baby boy was born. And then, to his great delight, his strongest desire came into being when she took the story a little more seriously and spoke those words he'd secretly wished her to say.

The meeting he longed for finally marked their lives.

But how it had done its work! Here he sat with that girl grown into an adult meandering around his castle with no apparent understanding of what he had gone through for her or the depth of his feelings.

Maybe now that she wasn't so young...maybe now she would understand...

But to make the offer a second time risked a second rejection and that he could not bear. He was one of the Fey, and they were blessed with immortality yet cursed with frail hearts that if broken deeply enough would prove mortal. The Sidhe with hardy physicality untouched by time or illness, but the humans with hardy hearts that endured breaking and suffering with such adapting strength.

He knew that fact better than most after what happened over four hundred years ago.

Sarah couldn't know. He would not receive false love from her simply to save his life. Her heart was so pure and kind that he had no doubt she would consider forcing that on herself to try to help him just like she was always trying to help anyone she encountered, even the creatures of the labyrinth.

Jareth moved to sit up straighter. His leather sceptre tapped against the arm of the throne as his thoughts turned away from depressing thoughts. Another pair of little goblin eyes peered through a crack in the grand doors of the entryway and disappeared just as quickly. If he'd been in better humour the antics of his subjects would have amused him—as they often did—but not today.

His mind wandered to the meeting with Sarah earlier that morning in his study, and he suppressed a sigh. Fight the strong emotions as he tried when she had uttered those dreadful words that doomed them to part years ago, a small glimmer of hope remained buried within his heart that perhaps someday she wouldn't be so opposed to the idea when she was older. Now that day had come. What would she choose? At the moment she seemed to want nothing more than to return home and leave it all behind, but he was no fool. He knew her well enough to sense her hesitancy and putting on of indifference when in reality there were faint sparks of intrigue and confusion glittering in her eyes every time he searched that bright gaze.

Just as before, it needed strict discipline to keep his distance, and clearly he had already failed more than once. The close proximity was intoxicating to all his senses, but her dreaded question had nearly undone him. How could she not know?

"Why are you helping me after...after what I did?"

A ripple of shock and frustration burned a trail from his heart to his throat. He flicked the two gleaming crystals into nonexistence as every muscle in his body tensed. There was no easy way to answer such a significant question; a question to which he thought the answer obvious after the words he'd said to her last time, the songs he sang to speak things to her that couldn't just be said with plain words.

Everything I've done,
I've done for you.
I move the stars for no one.

Finally losing a bit of control and wishing Sarah to understand so desperately, he spun on his heel and stalked towards her. The chair just behind her blocked any escape from his approach.

Only a couple feet away from the lovely being staring at him with a gleam of fear in her entrancing green eyes, he stopped. They were so close he could smell a faint whiff of whatever she washed her hair with, a bit of grass, and a scent of fresh linen. Different purple hues really did suit her creamy skin, shadowy hair, and her eyes. Such lovely eyes. Especially so close he could see all the flecks of colour.

When he raised a gloved hand and she flinched, he shook his head. Her fear of him was not wholly unwelcome, but how could she think he would strike her? That frustrated him. "Afraid, Sarah? We aren't adversaries anymore, you and I. You needn't be afraid."

"I can't trust you," she murmured.

"No," he said as softly. "I suppose you can't. But you'll have to a little bit if I'm going to protect you from Fiachna."

And protect her he would. Whether she wished it or not. But now was not the time to consider that filthy creature or he'd lose his temper. Sarah subtly moved back but the chair was in the way, so he took advantage of the interesting situation and pressed further into her space to see what she would do. It was always enjoyable putting her into difficult places to see her reaction just as he'd done while she traversed the labyrinth.

Plus, he just enjoyed being so near to her after waiting for seven years.

It was true he might not be fully trustworthy, but she wasn't either after all she'd done. "But can I trust you?" asked Jareth.

"What?"

"You defeated my labyrinth and used some rather powerful words last time you were here. You even turned some of my very own subjects against me. Now, it seems the greater question is whether I can trust you or not."

She huffed indignantly. He enjoyed riling her spirits. "Only because I had to get Toby back!"

"The child you asked me to take."

"Yes, well..."

"I don't wish to have any trouble from you of that kind every time I do something you don't agree with or you change your mind." Jareth could plainly see he was winning when a bit of resignation appeared in her face and posture. "So I'd appreciate you not trying to overturn my kingdom if and when this happens," he said, "or trying to overthrow me in your charming ways. Is that clear...my fairy?"

His pale eyes took a cursory glance over her slender figure still in the lilac dress from yesterday. She seemed uncomfortable in it, but he thought it flattering on her. And it did seem rather fairy-like. Fairies were a bit feisty and were wont to bite which was fitting for this spirited girl.

A deep blush suffused her entire face. "Yes," she bit out. "Perfectly."

"Good." Then he moved away to regain some control again.

In an instant, a loud clatter brought him to his feet. His reverie was broken. It seemed to have come from the main hall outside the doors, and the more he listened he could hear multiple goblin voices hissing and whispering. He strode across the circular chamber with his long lean legs and swung open the doors.

Five goblin guards froze where they stood in their random array of armour and weapons. All their eyes stared at their king wide and bulging. One of them was on the floor with a clawed foot on his back.

"What is going on here?" Jareth demanded with a resounding voice. Although he put on intimidating airs, it was hard not to be amused by the mischievous creatures.

Some of them shook in their boots. One got shoved forward by the others to answer.

"Uh...your Majesty...uh, nothing."

"Nothing? Then what was that awful racket I heard?"

"Oh, well..." His pinched head swivelled around while he stalled. "Just an accident of course, your Majesty. Nothing to worry about!"

The goblin on the ground made to protest with his mouth opening wide, but the fat one with his foot on his back shoved him.

"I see," said Jareth with penetrating eyes. "See to it that you're at your posts where you're supposed to be."

With that, he closed the doors again and laughed a little to himself. He could hear their feet shuffling and angry whispers as they scrambled back to their places. In fact, the interruption was a welcome one: the Goblin King didn't enjoy dwelling on all his emotions like a boy pining away after some girl.

A few hours later when the sun was descending from the sky, Jareth conjured a crystal into his palm. Its clear depths swirled and shifted with his wish until he saw Sarah. Knowing her, she could easily get into some kind of trouble just wandering around. He regretted not setting some sort of bounds earlier. There were at least a couple places he'd rather she didn't wander into, including back into the labyrinth.

She looked to still be on castle grounds, standing still with her head raised staring up at something. Grass was all around her bare feet, and a tree or two stood tall somewhere behind her.

The Tower. That's what she was looking up at.

In a moment he transported himself.

Sarah's gasp was audible when he appeared from around one of the trees. The green leaves stirred softly above his head in the faint breeze much like her breathy gasp.

"Of course you'd show up," she said once her surprise faded. "You always appear just when..." Her words trailed off as if thinking better of voicing her statement. She looked away back at the Tower.

"I suppose you're wondering what's inside," he said. Her curiosity was often insatiable, and he was glad for it. Beings who were curious about nothing usually were not very interesting either. "Maybe another time, but not for today. Might I suggest going back to your quarters that I've given you?"

She eyed him suspiciously. "Why?"

"Oh, but it's a surprise."

It was strange to him why she shuddered at that. She worried her full bottom lip with her eyes now on the ground by her feet. It was a distancing that didn't make much sense unless she assumed something terrible of his intentions.

"What is it, Sarah?"

"It's just...that's what Bran—sorry, Fiachna—said right before he tried to get me."

Jareth stepped forward to be closer, and this time she didn't move away. The mention of that abominable wretch sent fire running through his veins and brought the memories of the encounter vivid to his mind. Ecstasy and torment both roiled within him at her cry for help. His name. She had used his name. But all because of the creature who dared attack her and cause such fear to storm in her, the only woman that Jareth the Goblin King had ever cared anything about besides flesh and blood.

The rage that erupted in him when he saw Fiachna hit Sarah across the face and try to snatch her away was both like a frozen chill colder than the highest peaks of the White Mountains far to the North and hotter than the molten fires of the volcanic Mount Ash in the South all merging together to fit into his Fey form. Then the mage was gone. Sarah was all that remained. There she had been in her lavender dress, trembling and wary as she stumbled to her feet to look at him for the first time in seven years.

Although he'd seen her much sooner than that. But still, he was freshly ensnared within her mystical beauty that emanated from her like pale light: her eyes bright, her hair dark, her skin pale, and her lips rosy. All such beautifully distinguished contrast that matched the heart beating so fast within her chest.

The Raven Mage would find his opponent up for a challenge. Fiachna would not walk among the living for long after threatening Sarah Williams.

"There is something I was wondering," she said in a hesitant tone. "Why didn't you warn me about Bran sooner if you were the one meddling with my dreams? If you were watching me then you should have known."

"I meddled only when you wished for it, of course. It would be a lie to say I did not come every once in a great while to see you as you grew older, but I didn't keep close tabs on you as you might assume. If I'd have known this would happen, maybe I would have, but it was only after your wish of remembrance that I was drawn back into your affairs and you into mine."

"So it was you that gave me that strange dream as a warning?"

"Yes," he said. "It was indeed a warning. But I could not truly interfere until you asked for my help. Fiachna does not wait for permission: he simply takes what he wants by force. His touch on you wasn't at first noticeable, but it became like a terrible stench or a dark shadow in the corner of your eye, and then I could sense his magic. That is why he put his plans into action quicker than he hoped because your connection to me and the labyrinth was too strong to sever., so much that even though you considered leaving it in the past as cherished memories only he knew I would find out."

"All that time and I didn't even realise how awful he was and kept making silly excuses for the odd things." She dropped her head and sighed deeply. "I feel like such an idiot for causing all this."

"Sarah, I think you should go to your rooms. It would do you much good." The black glove on his hand wrinkled as he brought a crystal into his palm. He softly blew on it so it floated gently on the air down the hall towards her private chambers. "Don't worry, my dear, it is a pleasant surprise that has nothing to do with me."

For a few more moments she studied the sharp, curving features of his face before slowly turning away out of the courtyard. Twice she glanced over her shoulder at him before disappearing around the corner. Satisfied that she would obey, he entered straight into the Tower.

An enemy had arisen against the Goblin King. It was time to plan the battle.

Fun Fact: The first couple times I saw the movie, I totally thought they gave David Bowie false pointy teeth to make him look more 'Goblin King' like. Uhh, then I realised...'oh, those are his actual teeth.' Oops. Fail...

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