My lovelies, welcome to a slow burn, light-Jareth, fluff and happy ending fic. I still have to mark In Dreams as finished, but I'm still finishing up the table of contents and need to post it.

Here, Sarah has become a wildly successful director, yet her life dissatisfies her. When a bedraggled Jareth appears and begs her to save the Labyrinth by wishing herself away, she obliges in order to save her friends. Her first instinct is to fight to go back to her old life…but does she really want to go back?

Focusing on Jareth as a trickster; questionable, rash, but not evil.

Tags - fluff, longing, light angst, friendship, desire, magic. Will update as I go along.

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Light from the 11'o clock street lamps glowed like warm candle light. As if to prove a point, one of them flickered, yet no shadows danced across the barren, glittering street that night.

The glitter of the asphalt sent a memory flashing through Sarah's mind, but it went as quickly as it came, too brief for her to notice it had even been there at all.

Sarah preferred night-walks. They were peaceful; enthused fans could be overwhelming. At night, she could walk undisturbed.

What was a famous director like Sarah Williams doing walking home alone from a job late at night?

Sure, directors weren't exactly celebrities—their faces were hidden behind the stage or camera—but Sarah had become somewhat of a "local celebrity." The Sarah Williams who originally wanted to be a star had still landed in space, but on a different planet. Acting had been an interest based on her mother; directing was an interest based on herself. She liked creating a whole play instead of just one character.

Regardless of what star or planet she worked on, she had still bought a house and lived in her hometown neighborhood. Sarah walked home from the local theater, a passion project of hers. Sure, she had a full-time job in big 'ol NYC, and worked regularly in Boston and Baltimore (though she'd much rather snag Philadelphia. But, that former apprenticeship there had been too early in her career to directly and immediately lead to an opportunity. They'd probably forgotten about her or thought her rookie mistakes were inabilities. Oh well; she'd get back there eventually), but, even with all these fancy theaters—not to mention her recent, premiere film credit as first AD—she still directed community theater. At this point she could call it semi-professional, an amateur theater a step up from what it had been before she'd grown and refined it. Sarah almost preferred to work with the amateurs; they did it for the love of it. For the passion. That's why she made time every year to get in at least once.

The twenty-two year old walked along the misty sidewalk with her hands in her pockets. It was a warm June night, and it had recently rained. At twenty-two, she was young to already have such a stable career, but that trip to the Labyrinth had changed her life.

After her adventure in the Labyrinth, she returned home to finish up the final month of her 9th grade year; Sarah had said it was rude of the Goblin King to show up when finals were just around the corner, but at least he hadn't taken Toby on a school night. That summer, she took summer courses at both her high school and the local private university, who thankfully accepted late enrollment, in order to skip ahead in her high school's curriculum. For her sophomore year, she doubled up on classes where possible and taken some online gen-eds. All of her hard work allowed her to skip ahead a grade, thanks to summer school and doubling up. In her senior year, which would have been her junior year, she participated in the dual enrollment program her school offered with the same local private university where she had taken summer courses . She attended classes there on Monday mornings and Friday evenings, allowing her to earn an associates degree before (one week before, but still before) she graduated high school a year early. Two years later she had an apprenticeship under her belt and was a theater major (with a double minor in acting and film) from NYU. She landed her first job in Boston, where she decided to pursue her masters. When she landed a full-time position in NYC before her masters was even finished, she had actually considered dropping out. It had been tough, but her full gratitude went to her favorite professor, Mathilda Swayne. Dr. Swayne had given Sarah all the encouragement and motivation she had ever needed. Even if she didn't directly help her land workstudy hours or recommend scholarly reading, she gave Sarah something more important than anything: faith—faith in herself, belief in her capabilities, and hope that she could make it in the cutthroat world of the stage.

Sarah had bought her house before she even graduated from Boston; if one thing was important to Director Williams, it was family; the people who love you are a priority—at least that's what she said during every alumni event at her old high school.

College, jobs, a house…rather than make Sarah feel stable, all these things still made her feel like a bit of an outsider. She had never been one for friends, so she didn't mind that parties and dinners and all matter of social events had been sacrificed to her studies and career—truly, she didn't. But she felt like she was still waiting for something. What, she didn't know. She was happy she got to visit Baltimore at least once a season and Boston twice a season, but she felt restless, like she needed to go somewhere. Sarah didn't consider herself a true-blue New Yorker. Ya, she went to NYU, and ya she worked right in the middle of the concrete jungle full-time, but she had been a commuter, and now she always drove home at night, no matter how late it got…which got tricky during tech week. Okay, so she almost always drove home at night.

Sarah smiled to herself, pulling her hands into the sleeves of her red hoodie. She hadn't thought about that last month of ninth grade in so long. She had just turned sixteen, and the day she had been swept away to the Labyrinth had been a perfect June day, despite the evening rain. If only she had known what was in store for her, if only she had known the adventures she would have with Hoggle, Ludo, and Sir Didymus and Ambrosias.

Hoggle, Ludo, and Didymus! That was it. If anything could pull her out of this melancholy mood, it was talking to her friends.

"Sarah…"

Sarah spun around. No one was there. Nothing made a sound except the flickering street lamp, now a ways off.

"Probably just the wind," she said, despite the air being as silent as a crypt.

She turned and continued her walk. "Why do characters in stories always say that?" she thought to herself. "It's never the wind."

Something rustled behind her. She spun around again. She could've swore there had been something in her peripherals…

"Come on, feet," she muttered, hastening the pace of her feet to match her quickening pulse.

"Saraaah…"

"Who—" Sarah began, spinning around, but her voice caught him her throat. There, in the glow of the flickering street lamp, was the Goblin King.

The opaque imagine of him flickered in and out with the light of the lamp; she could just make out his figure when the light went dark, and he disappeared when it shone. Could that really be Jareth? The Goblin King, usually flamboyant yet regal, was hunched over. Was his cape ripped? Sarah didn't have any time to answer her questions; she turned and bolted.

"Sarah…" she heard the king rasp from behind her, but she dare not look again. She sprinted, but didn't get far before she was struck with vertigo. In an instant, she found herself running back towards the faulty street lamp.

"What the—?!" she exclaimed. She tried to turn back around and sprint away from it, but again she felt as though she'd been flipped upside-down and turned around; she was heading right for the Goblin King.

Sarah stopped and stumbled backwards, away from Jareth's blinking form. The lamp's lightbulb burst in a shower of sparks. Jareth no longer blinked in and out of Sarah's sight, but she could still see through him.

"Stay away," she shouted, still backing away. The next lamppost exploded, raining down its sparks to skitter on the pavement; Jareth appeared under it. Then again the next exploded, and he appeared closed still. Only one lit lamp separated Sarah and the approaching Goblin King.

An explosion sounded from directly behind her.

Sarah spun around to see the last electrical sparks disappear and the Goblin King standing mere feet from her. He reached his hand out towards her. "Sarah…" he said, clearly.

Sarah turned to run.

"They need you!" he cried. Sarah stopped in her tracks.

"'They' who?" she asked quietly, not turning back to face him.

"Who do you think?" the king said, forlorn and tired. Where was that sharp tongue and brazen sarcasm?

Sarah turned to face him slowly. He was no longer opaque, but fully present and solid as the asphalt on which they stood. His auburn cape was tattered and torn; it hung about him like a shroud. Complementing the funereal air about him, the already alabaster Fae looked pale and sickly. The forever disorderly shock of white-blonde hair somehow managed to look visibly mangy and dull. He was hunched, as if the weight of his own shoulders was too much to bear.

Sarah snapped back to reality. "If they're in danger, it's because you put them there. What have you done?!"

"For once in my life," said Jareth, shifting his weight, "I am not the one tormenting your Hedgewart."

Sarah then noticed the faint sound of something pitter-pattering onto the street. Tiny droplets of blood were drizzling down, dripping from Jareth's fingertips like dew from a wilting flower petal. His arms were scraped and scratched; Sarah could see through the rips of his black, long-sleeve tunic, and it looked like some of the gashes were bad enough to require stitches.

"I don't believe it. You look like you were in a fight. You look like you lost a fight."

Jareth grunted and gasped as if he had been kicked in the gut. He began to collapse.

Instinctually, Sarah lunged forward to catch his fall. She had slowly sunk to the ground and gently lowered him before she even realized what she had done. She began to ask herself why she would ever instigate physical contact with such a man, but was interrupted by the king's words.

"The Labyrinth…I am losing a fight," he said, practically gurgling, seemingly choking on nothing. "We are dying. Our world is…dying. I broke the rules. The rules are old, the rules are…binding. The magic is collapsing in on itself, our world is—" Jareth began to cough.

"Sssh sssh ssh," Sarah hushed him. "We need to get you to a doctor."

"Come with me. Wish, Sarah, wish yourself away. Come with me."

"What are you talking about?! I can't come with you! I live here, I have a life! I—"

"We will all die. Your friends will all die."

"No, no, no. That can't be possible. This can't be happening. The Labyrinth can't just—can't just implode. It—it can't—"

"They might already be dead," Jareth said. He closed his eyes. His breathing was labored. "You have to wish. Save us, Sarah. Save them. Save…me…"

Sarah didn't know when she has taken the king's hand, but she squeezed it hard.

"Stop that! You can't die! You can't…" His breathing stopped. If he was dying, he must be telling the truth. Her friends were in danger. The Underground was in danger. It was now or never…

"I wish the goblins would come and take me away right now!"

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