Disclaimer- I own nothing of the original characters or the Labyrinth as depicted in the movie. I do not profit in any way from this story.

A/N - I'm back! Apologies for a nearly year long absence. There were family issues, including a death in the family, that made it nearly impossible for me to find the time or motivation to do any writing. Also, I needed to be in the right headspace for this chapter. Having Sarah and Jareth face to face once more in the same physical location has been a long awaited event in AtWFD, so I wanted to get it just right.

That being said, I wrote and rewrote this chapter over and over again, trying to get just the right feel. So although I've been "back" to writing off and on for a month or two, it's taken me that long to get this chapter in good enough shape to post.

Map - Available on devaintart on the profile of JenJen421. Link to it can be found on my profile on deviantart as well. Seriously, leave the artist some love for this piece. It's amazing!

Warning - Crude Language and attempted murder.

"Fucking damn him to HELL!"

Mathyn appeared amidst a group of orcs in the northern reaches of Avalon. The orcs jumped and quickly backed away from the enraged Fae. One of them scurried off to inform the commanders of his arrival.

"I swear by the Old Ones that I will make him pay! Jareth will fucking beg to lick my boots by the time I am done with him! That smug asshole thinks he can keep me from what I want? What I deserve! I don't think so! FUCK!"

Mathyn lashed out with his magic, burning the nearest orc down to a greasy smear on the snow-covered grass of the hillside. The rest of the orcs fled in terror, hunkering down under any cover they could find, scrambling to get as far away from him as possible. All around Mathyn, dark swirls of eerie magic, shot through with red streaks, billowed outward. His eyes glowed red as he glared around, looking for anything to vent his rage on. When nothing presented itself, he let out a howl of rage and blasted a nearby clump of trees and bushes to dust.

"I will KILL him!" Dark flames licked up Mathyn's arms as he snarled a stream of invectives at the sky. He loosed his power once more, surrounding himself in flames that shot straight up into the air.

Suddenly, Mathyn went still. His voice, which had been filling the air with obscenities since the moment he arrived, went silent. His power died back, leaving him standing disheveled and small in the center of a scorched clearing. The snow around the edges of the clearing hissed and spat as it evaporated in the residual heat of his dark flames.

The only sound in the clearing was the harsh noise of his ragged breathing. He stood rigidly in the center of the clearing, his head still thrown back to stare up at the night sky. Suddenly, his head snapped down and he stared straight ahead, a faraway look in his wide eyes. All traces of darkness had fled, and his eyes were once more as crystalline blue as those of his father and brother. He flinched and a sudden shudder ran through him as his shoulders sagged. From the back of his throat, a strange whimpering sound emerged. It was small and strangled, but he could not stop it from escaping.

Around the clearing the orcs stared in horrified fascination at what was taking place. Never before had they seen anything like this. From the moment this fae had walked into the home village of the Jagged Claw and brought the most powerful orcish clan in the north under his control, the orcs had never once seen him falter, much less behave like a terrified servant. Whispers rose around the clearing as the orcs questioned what was happening. They valued strength, and followed only those who displayed it.

Before the whispers could grow into grumbles, Mathyn straightened and was once more glaring around the clearing. He met the eyes of each orc, staring them down. One by one, they dropped their eyes. None were willing to challenge his leadership, despite what they had just witnessed.

When he was satisfied that the orcs were sufficiently cowed, Mathyn spoke, his voice even but still menacing. "I want the commanders in my tent by the time I get there!"

Without waiting to see if his commands would be carried out, Mathyn strode quickly uphill, toward the large tent set up in the middle of the encampment that rose out of the snow.

His unspoken threat was as effective as a shout. All around the camp orcs started scurrying around, fetching food and setting things to rights. The commanders, many of whom had been present around the still smoking circle, hurried to reach the tent ahead of the glowering fae.

As he entered the tent and seated himself at the table in the center, Mathyn ground his teeth. The one thing that he had wanted even more than his father's throne was to get his hands on that mortal girl, Sarah. He could neither understand nor control his obsession with her, but that mattered little to him. He wanted her and so he would have her, come hell or high water, and he had been close… so close... to achieving that goal. To have failed yet again- and worse, to have been forced to flee in the face of Jareth's victory, was a bitter blow.

His commanders were filing in, each standing uneasily around the table as Mathyn leaned forward and took a long look at the map spread out on the table in front of him. It was now of the utmost importance that he take Avalon and the Dwarven Kingdom as quickly as possible. Now that Sarah was once more in the Goblin Kingdom she was no doubt well guarded and beyond his reach for the time being. This meant that Mathyn needed to move against his brother as swiftly as possible. If Sarah truly did awaken to her full potential, taking the Labyrinth would become infinitely more difficult. They simply had to break through to the Heart before Sarah reached her full strength. With both the King and Guardian working as one, the Labyrinth would be nearly impenetrable.

When the various commanders were all present, Mathyn glared around at them. "We must take the Dwarven Kingdom as quickly as possible. How far away from Bhandarth are those troops that I left to make their way through the pass and down into the old dwarf's kingdom?"

Only a strained silence met his inquiry.

"Well?" Mathyn snapped. "I left nearly half of my forces up there! How far into the Dwarven Kingdom have they managed to get?"

The commanders shared nervous glances but remained silent. Several of them even shrank back as far as possible, either hoping to avoid his notice or trying to present a smaller target. Finally one brave orc spoke up.

"F'rgive me, My- I mean, Your Majesty, but we hadn't heard nothin' from the northern troops since we moved south. So we sent a runner and- and…" The orc trailed off, looking terrified.

"Continue," Mathyn ordered, his voice cold.

"They were gone," the orc whispered fearfully.

"What do you mean gone?"

"There- there was-" The orcs swallowed hard and opened his mouth, but nothing further came out.

"There was an avalanche in the pass."

All eyes turned to see the succubus entering the tent. She continued, her voice remarkably unconcerned considering the information she had to impart, "Half the troops were wiped out. The other half are trapped north of Ravencall pass. Another storm is raging around them as we speak."

Mathyn grew pale. "What?" He glared at the succubus.

Seemingly unworried by the menace in his gaze, the succubus shrugged her elegant shoulders, the straps of her thin gown clinging to her pale skin. "There was an avalanche. Apparently a party of dwarves was above the pass-"

"That fucking bastard survived!" Mathyn slammed a fist down on the table. "I knew I should have slit that insolent dwarf's throat!"

The Fae prince swallowed hard as he leaned back into his chair. Around the table, the Orcish commanders shuffled nervously, unsure of what was going to happen next. The succubus examined her fingernails, unperturbed.

"You probably should have. It seems that he set off charges that slid the entire eastern cliff into the pass."

Mathyn put a hand to his head, shading his eyes for a moment before pinching the bridge of his nose as he visibly struggled to contain his ire. "How many were lost?" His voice was hoarse and it cracked as he spoke.

"I beg your pardon," the succubus leaned forward slightly, a half smile on her perfect red lips "I didn't quite catch that."

Mathyn slapped his hand flat on the table in front of him. "I said, HOW MANY!" he roared. "How much of the northern army did that blasted dwarf bury alive!?"

The corner of her mouth twitching, the succubus shrugged again. "Perhaps half, maybe slightly more. As I said, the rest are caught in the snowstorm to the north of Ravencall. They will probably be snowed in until spring." She chuckled as she spoke.

Between one moment and the next Mathyn surged to his feet. His hand curled around her throat as he dragged the amused succubus closer to his enraged face. "Do you find this amusing? I've lost half my northern force. The other half is useless to me until the snows cease. Our entire plan hinged on taking both Bhandarth and Avalon as quickly as possible! How do you propose to do that and take the Goblin Kingdom before the Airíoch comes into her powers in the Labyrinth?"

Unfazed by his snarling face and tight hold about her neck, the succubus raised one elegantly arched eyebrow. "The Airíoch has returned?"

With a curse, Mathyn threw her aside and stalked back toward his seat. Unbalanced by the sudden move, the succubus fell to the floor. She hissed as she looked up, "You failed."

"Jareth." Mathyn spat the name like a curse. "My gods cursed brother showed up personally to defend his strumpet."

The succubus stood slowly. "I thought you were more than a match for your brother."

"I am ten times the man he is!"

She snorted. "How is it that he was able to best you yet again?" She crossed her arms. "My, my… another failure. He isn't going to be very happy, you know. You were supposed to have broken the girl by now."

"I still have time," Mathyn snarled.

"Precious little," she shot back. When he made no reply, she gestured toward the map. "What will you do now?"

Mathyn stared intently at the map for several minutes without speaking. When he finally looked up, there was a wild gleam in his eyes that spoke more of fear than of exhilaration. "Now… now we unleash hell on Bhandarth and drive straight through the dwarves. We don't stop until every dwarf in the kingdom is mine to command."

"And then?"

"Then we march on the Labyrinth. We must be there as soon as possible."

"You haven't enough troops," the succubus pointed out. "Even if you succeed in Bhandarth, the armies of Avalon, not to mention the rest of the Underground, will be waiting for you at the border of the Goblin Kingdom."

"There is no other choice!" Mathyn screamed at her. " We must take the Labyrinth!"

"Then… My Lord… there is someone you should meet."

She moved to the entrance and held the tent flap open, beckoning to someone outside. She stepped aside as a robed and hooded figure entered. The orcish generals, who had been watching the exchange between the Fae and the female with increasing disquiet, all drew back at the sight.

One of the largest turned to Mathyn. "Your Majesty! No! Not him!"

Mathyn ignored both the orc who spoke and the murmurs of displeasure from the others. He focused his attention on the dark robed figure. "And you are?"

The figure lifted hands gnarled with age to the edges of the hood. As he pushed it back , revealing his face, the orcs shuffled several steps further away, making signs to ward off evil.

"You!" Mathyn turned on the succubus, scowling. "Why would you bring him here? He is in league with that petty schemer, Gethin."

"No, My Lord. Gethin was but a means to an end for me." The pockmarked old man bowed low. "I serve only those who are touched by the Great Shadow. The hand of the Master is upon you, My Lord." The decrepit old man stood straight once more and folded his hands into the voluminous sleeves of his black robes.

"What use could an old man possibly be to me?" Mathyn sneered. "I don't know who you are or what you could possibly think you would have to offer me, but I very much doubt I will be interested." Mathyn flicked his wrist in dismissal and turned away, paying no attention to the protests of the succubus or sighs of relief from the orcs.

"Your Majesty!" The old man's voice had lost its unctuous tone. "I am Valegil, and what I have to offer could very well mean victory rather than defeat and death."

Mathyn turned back toward Valegil. "And just what do you offer, old man?"

"I offer you an army unrivaled in size and unmatched for its ability to intimidate your enemies."

For the first time since he arrived in the camp, Mathyn smiled. "Go on…"

"Did you hear anything else?" Gethin glared sternly at his daughter - a daughter that not only had so far failed to fulfill her duty, but who had now brought him the most unwelcome news he had received in many years.

"No, Father." Belinda lowered her eyes in a show of respect, but Gethin knew her too well to confuse the gesture for anything but a thinly veiled attempt to appease him. Beneath her apparent filial respect lurked a healthy measure of fear and enmity.

"And you are certain that she was dying?"

"I felt the wild magic pouring out of her myself!" Belinda protested. "She will likely be dead within a day."

"Humph. Do not underestimate Jareth. He's no fool. If what I have now heard is to be believed, he will do everything in his power to ensure that the bride of his heart survives." He watched his daughter narrowly as he spoke, waiting to see what her reaction to his knowledge would be.

He smiled in satisfaction as Belinda's mouth thinned and the hand that lay on her lap clenched tightly. "Despite where his heart lies, your mission is unchanged. Bear his child, as quickly as possible. Then it won't matter if he beds this Sarah and every other woman in the Underground every night. You will be the Queen Mother and none will be able to usurp your position."

"I will not be made a fool of," Belinda hissed.

Gethin sat back in his seat, contemplating the situation before them. There was little they could do to stop Jareth from saving Sarah. Attempting to do so would be foolish in the extreme as it would risk the exposure of all their plans.

Once Sarah was no longer mortal, then her true power would no doubt be unlocked. Gethin stroked his chin. This would make her a most unsuitable bride for either Mathyn or Jareth. Not that he had ever had any plans to hand her over to that upstart renegade. No, he would dance to Mathyn's tune now because it suited his plan that he should do so. When the day came that the pretentious royal was no longer of value to them, he would take great pleasure in seeing him strangled with his own intestines.

Dismissing such pleasantries, Gethin turned back to the problem at hand. If this girl, having come into her birthright, was to be considered an unsuitable bride for Mathyn, then she was even more unsuitable in the eyes of the Collective as a bride for the elder brother. No, Jareth must not be allowed to claim her, not even as mistress and lover. Her influence would be too great, and any child produced by that union would be out of his reach and control.

Yes, this Sarah was now a serious threat to their plan. They could hardly control the future High King if his heart was tied to the Guardian. Not to mention that her guardianship itself presented a barrier, albeit a slight one - she was only a woman and had been nothing more than a mortal human- to their access to the Croí Foinse. As unlikely as it was that this Sarah would be able to command the kind of power and influence of the Airíochs of old, Gethin was unwilling to risk all of their carefully orchestrated plans on such an assumption.

Gethin glanced at his daughter once more and was gratified to see that her anger was still simmering. Now to see just how far that anger would take her.

"Sarah must not survive."

Belinda started, her eyes growing wide. "What?"

"Do you desire to be spoken of as Jareth's unwanted queen?"

Her face hardened and Gethin suppressed a chuckle. He had apparently hit upon a nerve and an undiscovered well of pride in his daughter.

"No," she ground out.

"Well then. I suspect that Jareth is, even now, in the process of saving her life." His lip curled in disgust. "He has taken her to the Croí Foinse, where her mortality will be stripped away and she will be made into a creature of our world. She must be eliminated as soon as possible."

"But won't she be just… human?" Belinda asked. "How much power will she truly be able to wield with such a diluted bloodline? Will she even survive the transformation?"

Gethin shrugged. It would be better for all of them if Sarah did not survive, but they had to be prepared, in case she did not succumb to the magical fever raging through her. "Whether she is still human or, far less likely, Fae, matters little. She will still have an unacceptable influence over Jareth. We cannot allow this. Sarah must be eliminated if she survives the transformation."

Belinda nodded. "When can I expect your operative?"

Gethin raised his eyebrows. "Oh no, daughter. There is no time for that. You must act to secure your place at Jareth's side. You are already there. There won't be time for me to insert someone else into the household."

"Me! But, Father…"

"There is no one else, Belinda. You will do this or you will face the consequences." His voice whipped through the magical connection between their mirrors and he saw her flinch at his tone. He softened his tone now that he had her attention. "Come now, you want her gone as much as I do, unless I mistook your anger earlier as being directed at me."

"No! She is… in my way. And I do not enjoy playing second fiddle to anyone, much less some mortal girl. I will not allow her to become an embarrassment to me. I do want her gone. I just hadn't expected to have to arrange it myself." Belinda wrung her hands and glanced nervously around her.

"Then make sure that she doesn't survive the night. If you can arrange it, it would be easiest if she never even regains consciousness. From the tales, those newly reborn into this world sleep for some time. I suspect that she will require even more rest than usual, given what you've told me about her condition."

He watched as Belinda looked around nervously. "Isn't she sure to be guarded?"

Gethin snorted. "Guarded or not, you must eliminate your rival, and quickly. How you do so is of no consequence to me."

He watched as his daughter nodded woodenly. "I must make preparations to attend wherever the Council convenes. They are sure to meet in light of the Goblin King's unauthorized use of the Croí Foinse. It is likely that I will see you shortly as I cannot imagine that Shaylee will be in any fit state to travel."

"Yes, Father." Belinda whispered, her face white and pinched.

Gethin raised him hand to dismiss the magic that allowed him to speak to his daughter as she rose from her seat before her mirror. At the last moment, he paused.

"And Belinda…"

Belinda sank slowly back into her seat, her body tense as she perched on the edge of the stool that undoubtedly sat before her dressing table. "Have you further instructions?"

"It would be best if her death appeared to be natural."

When Belinda opened her mouth to speak he held up a hand to forestall her. "If it cannot be made to appear natural, then it must look like an accident. I don't think I need to tell you what would happen to you if you should be caught assassinating the newly discovered Airíoch."

Belinda swallowed hard, but Gethin was pleased to see the fire in her eyes remained undimmed.

"I will not fail you, Father."

"I certainly hope not. My daughter or not, the Collective will have even less mercy on you should you fail in your task than the Council will if they catch you. I would very much hate to be forced to order your punishment."

Gethin waited just long enough to see Belinda blanche at his words before he cut off the spell and was left looking at his own reflection in the mirror. He spent several moments examining his reflection while his mind sifted through all of the tasks he had before him. When he was satisfied, he rose and summoned a servant before seating himself at his desk.

When the servant arrived and wordlessly bowed before him, Gethin looked up from a pile of papers. "I shall see the queen in ten minutes, have her made ready," he ordered curtly.

The servant bowed and left. Several minutes later, Gethin placed a stack of papers in his satchel and stood with a grimace. He would have to see the drooling mess of a woman that had once been his queen and his lover. His lip curled. Although he was glad to be rid of her constant need for attention, his impetuous actions now meant that he had to see to the entire running of the Fairy Kingdom.

With a sigh, Gethin exited his office and made his way toward the Queen's bower. Such was the price of power.

Jareth paced next to Sarah's bed. It had been over twenty four hours and still she had not regained consciousness.

"Why isn't she awake yet?" he demanded.

Alex sighed. "She is healing, Your Majesty. She is adjusting to her new body- her new existence. Surely you have seen this before in the wished away. The worse the illness or injury before the baptism, the longer it takes for the body to restore itself. The magic may heal the physical form, but the patient must rest to regain stamina and energy."

The healer finished taking Sarah's pulse and laid her hand gently back down on the bed before turning to look at the agitated King. "I have never seen anyone come back from such an ordeal as she underwent. I have no frame of reference for making any type of prediction as to when she will wake up. It could be within the hour or it could take well into next week. We must be patient."

"I am patient!" Jareth snarled, prompting the healer to raise an eyebrow.

A knock sounded at the door. Turning away from the healer, Jareth strode over and yanked it open. "What!?"

Belinda stood in the hallway. "Jareth?" she asked uncertainty.

He attempted to school his features, but the best he could manage was a neutral expression. "What is it Belinda? This isn't a very good time."

She straightened and raised her chin defiantly. "I'm sorry. I just thought you'd like to know that most of the Council just arrived in the throne room. They are looking for you." Her eyes darted past him, taking in Sarah's prone form on the bed.

"Who's the girl?"

Jareth moved to block her view, stepping into the hallway and pulling the door mostly closed behind him as he did so. "No one of importance. She was rescued during the skirmish last night."

"No one of importance... and yet I haven't seen you since we parted yesterday," Belinda retorted, her sharp voice echoing down the hallway. Then her tone softened and she stepped closer, putting a hand on his arm. "I heard you spent most of the night in the infirmary. I feared that you had been injured in the fight."

Jareth shook his head and gently disengaged from her grip. "I'm fine. I was hoping that the girl would wake up so we could get more information on what happened," he lied.

"Did she?"

Jareth shook his head. "Unfortunately not."

"That's a shame. Do you want me to look after her while you see the Council?"

Jareth looked sharply down at Belinda, his attention caught by the unusual offer. It was… odd. Belinda was decidedly not the nurturing type.

"I don't think that will be necessary," he told her carefully. "Diona is probably on her way here as we speak. She can sit with her while I attend to other things. Now, if that's all-"

He turned to enter Sarah's room once more but stopped when Belinda grabbed his arm again, her nails biting through his simple shirt like talons.

"It's no trouble, Jareth. Please let me do this. It's not as though I have anything else to do and I- I want to be useful," she blurted out.

Jareth blinked, taken aback by Belinda's odd insistence on this point. The last thing he needed or wanted was for his current betrothed to be in the room when Sarah finally regained consciousness. He had already done nearly irreparable damage to their relationship by neglecting to tell Sarah of the arranged marriage he had agreed to. He could only imagine the feelings of hurt and betrayal that Sarah would feel if, on waking, she found herself nursed by the very woman that had caused her such heartache already. Once more, Jarth cursed himself for ever getting into this position in the first place, never mind that he'd felt his reasoning to be sound at the time.

He raised an eyebrow. "Why the sudden desire to help?" Realizing that she still held onto his arm, he pulled away, less gently this time.

Belinda's brows drew together as she lost her grip on him once again. "I told you, I have nothing else to do!" she snapped. "We hardly ever spend any time together as it is. Now your attention will be even more divided!"

He scowled down at her, irritated by her attitude. He had enough to deal with without her throwing a tantrum. He was opening his mouth to speak again when her demeanor changed once more, her tone taking on a seductive note.

"Perhaps If I can help you, we might find some time to be alone together." She looked up at him through lowered lashes, reaching out a hand to stroke his forearm.

Jareth sighed and shook his head. A sudden feeling or irritation swept through him. He was tired of maintaining this charade. Stepping back out of her reach, he leaned against the doorframe, his back to Sarah's door. He crossed his arms over his chest and gave her a hard look.

"Isn't it a little too late for such attempts, Belinda?"

"What do you mean?" she asked, drawing back. Her eyes were wide as she gazed up at him.

"I mean that it's past time we stop playing these games."

"What games!?" Her face portrayed shocked innocence, but her eyes were hard.

"We are clearly not right for each other," Jareth told her gently, his impatience rising.

Her shocked gasp was loud enough to echo down the hallway. "How can you say that! We've hardly started to get to know each other. We are just months away from marriage, Jareth!"

"Exactly!" he exclaimed, pushing himself away from the doorframe. "We are only months away from marriage and we still hardly know each other. You've kept me at arms length this whole time and now you suddenly want my time and attention? This is clearly not going to work out."

"You haven't exactly been overflowing with interest yourself," Belinda snapped. She narrowed her eyes.

He started to refute her accusation but she cut him off before he could speak.

"Don't bother, Jareth. It's not as though you put a lot of effort into this relationship either. You didn't want anything to do with this whole thing from the very beginning. I was there in the Council Chamber, remember? The Council all but forced you to accept our betrothal. You didn't want me and you didn't want to get married!"

"Belinda, I-"

Her eyes blazed. "You know what, Jareth? That's just too fucking bad," she spat. "You agreed to this betrothal and I'll be damned if we are going to back out of it now. I refuse to allow you to humiliate me further by making me look like just another woman you've lost interest in!"

He rubbed his face tiredly, wishing he had kept his mouth shut to begin with. "This isn't the time or the place to discuss this," he said shortly, his temper rising as he thought about how inappropriate this entire situation was, to say nothing of the behavior of the woman that was supposed to be his queen. The woman in front of him had none of the qualities that he had hoped to find in a wife and co-ruler. Never had he regretted his involvement with any woman more than he regretted this ill advised betrothal.

His sham of a relationship to this woman had very nearly lost him everything. That, he could almost forgive, but the fact that it had nearly cost Sarah her life in the process was the truly unforgivable thing in all of this mess he had created for himself. That fact would never leave his thoughts for long. His mistakes- his own lack of resolve, would haunt him for all time. Jareth closed his eyes, blocking out the sight of the furiously scowling woman in front of him.

No more, he thought. Never again will I allow pain to come to those I love through my lack of strength. It doesn't matter what I have to do, what hardships I will face, I must and will protect Sarah… my family… my kingdom... and that starts here and now. His eyes snapped open.

Belinda was still glaring at him, her eyes sharper than many daggers he had handled. "You are right, Belinda, and I apologize. Marriage was the last thing I wanted when the Council brought it up. While I argued against it, my father all but issued a command. I should have stood stronger on the matter, but under the circumstances I was in at the time, I thought that I it would be of little consequence if I allowed the Council to choose my future queen."

"And now it matters all of the sudden?" She sneered contemptuously. "Well, it's too late, it's done. We are going to go through with this, Jareth. I absolutely will not allow you to back out now!"

Her eyes darted again to the door behind him before flicking back to his face. Her lip curled in a sneer and she crossed her arms arrogantly over her chest. "I will not be replaced by some two-bit whore you picked up from gods know where. I will be your wife, Jareth."

Jareth looked down at the woman before him. The difference between her and Sarah was a stark reminder of what he had nearly lost and his temper snapped. "I didn't really want to be married to you, and I want it even less now," he informed her coldly.

The blood drained from her face so quickly that Jareth took a step closer to her, ready to catch her if she fainted.

"Don't touch me," she hissed, stepping away from him. "Do. Not. Touch me."

Jareth put his hands up in surrender and stepped back as she glared at him. She drew herself up, standing with her chin thrust out and her spine straight. After several moments she spoke, her voice low but furious.

"You may not have wanted this betrothal, but we will be going through with the marriage. As I said, I will not be one of your discarded women. And no one… especially not that little tramp in there," she pointed to the door that led into Sarah's bedroom, "is going to take my place by your side. I have an image to maintain and-"

Jareth cut her off as her voice rose to a shriek. "Look, we can talk about it later."

She vented her feelings in a snarl of fury and prepared to unleash another tirade but he cut her off. "I'm serious, Belinda. Now is not the time."

She glared venomously as he continued, "It's neither the time nor the place to discuss this. However, you'd best get used to the idea that I am done hiding who and what I want in my life."

Belinda's hands curled into fists at her side. "So you are really going to do it. You are going to throw me aside for some tart without family or status."

"I'm not 'throwing you aside' as you so colorfully put it, I'm simply saying that I am going to-"

"Save it. Now is not the time, remember?" She smiled icily at him and whirled around, stalking down the hall and turning the corner before he could say anything else.

When she was no longer in sight, Jareth slumped against the wall. "Well, that was bloody brilliant," he muttered to himself, swiping at his face. He had wanted to break the news to her more gently, but the conversation had simply gotten away from him. Getting into a screaming match with her was not the best way to break things off.

Pushing away from the wall, Jareth promised himself that he would have a long talk with Belinda. Anything she wanted or required to help her through the dissolution of their betrothal, he would offer. It was the least he could do. In the meantime, he had other things to deal with.

Sarah floated alone, suspended in darkness. Unlike the darkness she had become accustomed to of late, there was no fear and no pain in this endless expanse. She floated peacefully, free of the agony that had been her constant companion.

Lazily she moved her hands about, watching as her long dark hair floated around her body. Time did not seem to exist here, and Sarah had no way of knowing how long she had been drifting in nothingness. Even the ghostlike guardians that had surrounded her before seemed to be gone. With a sigh, she closed her eyes. She was tired. So very tired, despite the fact that she seemed to be better. Idly, Sarah wondered if she had died.

"If this is heaven, then every religion lied," she muttered.

After some time passed, Sarah became aware of muffled voices coming from a bright light far above her. She couldn't make out anything that was said. The sound reminded her of a muted version of how all the adults sounded in the old Charlie Brown Holiday Specials that she used to watch on television.

Deciding that neither the noise nor the light were threatening, Sarah ignored them and they faded slowly. She once again closed her eyes. Utterly apathetic, she didn't care if she spent the rest of her existence here, floating in the soft darkness.

Suddenly, between one endless moment and the next, she knew that she was not alone. A presence intruded on her safe cocoon of velvet blackness. Where her darkness was safe and warm and soft, the darkness that stirred just at the edge of her awareness was all hard edges and cold talons.

Another mind brushed against hers, full of menace and lust. Sarah shrank back in fear, instinctively trying to make herself as small and still as she could in the hope that this uncomfortably familiar presence would overlook her.

Sarah had only a moment to register that she had recently encountered this presence before the evil was violently repelled. Her soft, secure blanket of darkness broke apart, shattering around her before coalescing in the ghostly figures that Sarah vaguely remembered from her time of pain. The world around her began to grow bright once more and she shut her eyes against it.

Whispers surrounded her. As if many voices were saying her name.

"Sarah…. Sarah… Sarah… Sarah…"

Stubbornly, Sarah kept her eyes shut.

"Wake up… Sarah, wake up! Wake up, Sarah…"

The voices were relentless. "Go away," Sarah groaned. "I don't want to go back."

"You must." A childlike voice spoke clearly, right beside her.

Reluctantly, Sarah opened her eyes. As she did so, she gasped. She floated just above a pinnacle of rock that jutted up out of an endless sea of mist. As her mind registered this, she drifted down until she was standing securely on the rocky pinnacle.

Raising her eyes from the mesmerizing swirl of the mist below, Sarah looked up. She could see clearly from horizon to horizon. In the far west, the sun was setting, turning the clouds above her to brilliant shades of pink and violet, all lit from behind with the golden glow of the last rays of the sun.

Sarah couldn't do anything other than stand there and gape at the beauty that surrounded her.

"Breathtaking, isn't it?" The childlike voice spoke again. Sarah tore her eyes away from the sky and turned. There, standing next to her, was a small boy. She had the feeling that she had seen him before, but she couldn't place him.

"Am I… dead?" Sarah asked. The prospect didn't seem nearly as terrifying as it had before. Even in the darkest depths of her pain, when she had wished for death to release her from her endless torment, she had felt fear at the thought of dying. Now, as she waited for the young boy to answer her question, Sarah found that all fear had slipped away. There was only peace.

The boy cocked his head. "Do you want to be dead?"

Sarah blinked. Did she? She didn't know. The entire question seemed somehow irrelevant. She tried to think back on what her life had been like, but the memories were slippery. She couldn't seem to grasp any of them firmly before they drifted away like smoke. All she was left with was the impression of pain and loss… but also hope and… love?

"I don't think so?" Her voice was uncertain. "I can't seem to remember anything."

The boy nodded. "I know. We thought it would be easier to speak with you if we held your memories away. It lets us communicate without the… trauma… of recent events getting in the way of the conversation."

"We?" Sarah looked around. "There's just you and me here."

The boy shook his head. "No. There are thousands and thousands of us here."

Sarah looked around sharply. "Where? There's no one here but you and me." The boy merely looked at her, smiling knowingly.

Unnerved, she took an uncertain step back and found that her heels were right at the edge of the rock. Behind her was nothing but a long fall into the mist. For a moment, Sarah thought she would tumble backwards. Her heart raced and she fought back a scream.

Something moved behind her, brushing against her back and helping her regain her balance. Sarah turned to find nothing but empty air and a darkening sky behind her. She shuddered.

Still smiling gently at her, the small boy took her hand. "Don't be afraid, Sarah. Look!"

With his free hand, he gestured at the mist around them. As he did so, each wisp of fog coalesced into a hazy figure, each standing in the endless expanse of nothing around the rock pinnacle. Sarah gasped as the figures appeared - thousands and thousands, as he had said. They seemed to go on and on, stretching to the horizon and beyond for all she knew.

"Who are they?" Sarah whispered, caught between fear and awe at the sight.

"We are the many!" a choral voice boomed around her, "which make up the whole!"

Sarah flinched at the intensity of the sound. The boy tugged gently on her hand, drawing her attention back down to him. "We thought it would be easier if we spoke to you through the form of just one of us. Our combined presence is… overwhelming. This form was chosen because it was deemed least likely to scare you."

Sarah had a sudden flash of memory. The small boy running to her side and whispering in her ear as she faced an evil presence… "It was you! You reminded me of Jareth's promise."

Sarah went still. Memories flooded her mind- memories of him. They stood toe to toe, arguing in the pouring rain. Then she looked deeply into his eyes as they danced across the stones of the Henge to music only they could hear. His mouth was on her hers and a burning need was rising within her…"

"Sarah!" the choral voice boomed again, startling her. Once she was distracted, she lost hold of her memories. They drifted away again, hazy and unimportant.

The little boy smiled at her. "Sorry. You aren't ready for those memories yet."

"Not ready?"

A wistful sadness crossed the boy's face. "There is too much emotion there. We need to talk to you and can't let it get in the way. Not yet." He seated himself on the rock beneath them and tugged on Sarah's hand to urge her to join him.

"Why do you need to talk to me?" Sarah asked as she sat cross legged on the hard rock. It should have been uncomfortable, but it wasn't somehow.

"There are things you need to know, Sarah." He paused, seemingly unsure what to say next.

"What did the voice mean, the many that make up the whole?" Sarah asked, hoping that getting him talking would make it easier for him to tell her whatever it was she needed to know.

The boy smiled. "The answer to that riddle is an old story; one that has been almost entirely forgotten, even by the lore masters." He sighed and flopped onto his back to look up at the sky. The sun had set and the stars were just starting to appear, dodging between the clouds in an endless game of hide and seek. He was silent for some time, both he and Sarah gazing up at the stars wheeling overhead as the clouds scudded away to reveal the night sky in all its splendor. When he did begin to speak, he was so quiet that Sarah almost missed what he was saying.

"We are what the lore masters of the Underground call the 'Old Ones,' the progenitors of the six races - Fae, Elf kind, Troll, Centaur, Orc, and Human. We existed long before the Veil between the mortal world and the Underground was erected. In fact, we are the ones who constructed the barrier to keep humankind, the youngest and most volatile of our children, from destroying that which we had created Underground in their endless thirst for power and domination."

He sat up and looked seriously at Sarah. "But the story of the Labyrinth itself is much, much older than the creation of the Veil between the worlds." He smiled, a little sadly. "You could say that the Labyrinth and what lies beneath it are the reason we had to seal the mortal humans away from the Underground in the end."

"The Croí Foinse?" Sarah asked curiously.

The boy shook his head. "No. The magical waters are simply a side effect of our presence. The Labyrinth hides a much older and darker secret."

He shifted uncomfortably and Sarah caught her breath, waiting for him to continue the story.

"I will not bore you with the trivial details lost to time. Suffice it to say that, like any other race, there were those among my kind that were neither wise nor benevolent. One of these, called Kamenwati, desired above all else to gain dominion over the world. In his quest for control of all life, he discovered a darkness that had lain hidden beyond our world, watching with hunger and jealousy as life flourished beyond its reach."

Sarah shuddered as the cold emptiness of the creature that had tried to claim her brushed against the edges of her memory. The boy continued.

"Kamenwati was so consumed by his own greed that he did not recognize the entity for the danger that it was. We never found out what it promised him, but it succeeded in convincing him to become the conduit by which this everlasting hunger could enter our world. It took him years, but finally he perfected the ritual that would allow the entity to merge with his body and live in our world as though it had always been here. Once that joining happened, he was no longer Kamenwati. In essence, he was reborn as something far darker and more powerful than he had been. It was not a perfect joining. The creature was still of another place, and had to mould Kamenwati into a new form to house itself. Kamenwati no longer resembled anything we had ever seen. He was now a being full of hate and hunger… and yet, some of who had he had been still remained. There was still within the creature Kamenwati's desire to dominate. Where before it had wanted nothing more than to consume the world, now it sought to seize control."

"Then what happened?" Sarah asked, aware that she sounded like a small child waiting eagerly to hear the next part of a bedtime story, but so wrapped up in the tale that she didn't care.

"We fought back, of course," boy replied, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Where before, there had been only peace in the world, now there was war. For many years we fought to defeat the creature before we came to the realization that we could not do so."

Sarah blinked. That was not where she had thought the story was going to go. "You couldn't defeat it?"

The boy shook his head sadly. "It was a creature from beyond our world, maybe even from beyond our plane of existence. We did not possess the strength or the skill to defeat it at that time. The best we could do was trap it, and seal it away until such a time as we did have the knowledge and the power needed to exterminate the evil that Kamenwati had unleashed upon us."

"You sealed it away?" Sarah said slowly. "Where?"

The boy sighed deeply. "Can't you guess, Sarah? After all this time, all those years you had access to William's journal, and you still don't know?"

"Wait? William's journal!?"

The boy chuckled. "Yes, that little red bound leather volume that you loved so much as a girl is more than it appeared to be. That was the personal journal of William the Wise, although very few know that." He cocked his head. "Come to think of it, I'm not sure even the King knows of it's true nature. He and the others call it 'The Book of the Labyrinth.'"

"But… it's just a fairy story!"

The boy laughed. "It was a fairy story because that is what you needed it to be at the time, Sarah. The book changes to suit the needs of the reader. As a child, you needed a connection to the Labyrinth, and so the book contained something that would give you that."

"But it didn't change, even after I ran the Labyrinth and came back. It was still just a story."

"Perhaps. But you weren't ready for anything else, were you?"

"I suppose not, " Sarah admitted. "So if I were to read it now, what would it contain?"

The boy shrugged. "We don't know. William infused it with our magic, and the free magic of the Labyrinth, but he never read it to us. We don't know what the actual contents of the book are. However, even with the limited knowledge you have from the book, you should be able to guess where we entombed Kamenwati."

"The Labyrinth?"

"Yes. We trapped him deep in the earth, in a prison of bare rock, caged within lines of raw power. Over his cell we built a Great Seal- the Labyrinth- and into that Seal, we infused the greater part of our magic. Over time, we came to realize that we had bound our very souls to the Seal as well. As our kind died, our souls no longer departed for whatever world waited beyond this one. They were bound to the Labyrinth, becoming an integral part of its magic. Now we are the sentience- the mind, if you will, of the Labyrinth."

The boy fell silent, watching Sarah. She felt as though there was something he expected her to say or do at this point. Unfortunately, she had no idea what that was.

"So, you are saying that there is an evil entity trapped beneath the Labyrinth?"

The boy nodded. "And even now, he seeks to escape from his prison. We knew when we placed him there, that it was only ever a temporary solution. One day, he would free himself and try once again to dominate and consume all life in existence. That is why we created the six races, and sealed the mortal humans, who were much like Kamenwati had been, on the far side of the Veil. We feared that they would either discover his existence and seek to free him prematurely, or inadvertently spark a war that would lead to the destruction of the Seal. We knew that someday, those that came after us would inherit the task of vanquishing this evil and we wanted to be ready. We doubted that we would have the strength to imprison him again if he escaped."

"Ok, so why was it so important to tell me this?"

"As Aírioch, you are our representative to the world we left behind, but you are far more than just your title, Sarah Williams. We have been watching over you since long before you ran the Labyrinth to reclaim your baby brother."

"Why me?"

"Because we sent your mother Above to meet your father, knowing that it would result in your birth."

Sarah stared at him. "My mother? My mother was just a normal mortal woman! She was an actress!"

The young boy, grinned impishly. "No, your mother was the daughter of the last Revered Priestess. A powerful family in their own right. Whatever identity she took on Above was merely a ruse to hide who she really was from any who would wish harm on your family."

At his words, memories of an old woman with long hair and a severe, yet kindly, face rose up in her mind. It took her a moment to come up with the name. "Di..Diona is… my grandmother?"

As she took that in another thought came to Sarah and she looked sharply at the small boy seated next to her. "So you… engineered my birth!?"

"We arranged it, if that's what you mean."

"Why?"

"Because you are the other half of the equation. We needed both the King and the Caretaker to act as one in order to face what is coming. The Seal is crumbling, Sarah. It has already begun. The King has done his best to keep it whole, but without you, it will crumble away to dust within just a few weeks. The Labyrinth needs you, Aírioch. The Underground needs you."

Sarah blinked. Panic was rising from deep within her chest and there was nothing she could do to stop it this time. There was nowhere to run. A vague memory of an old centaur telling her something very similar floating through her mind. As it had before, the urge to get up and run, as far and as fast as she could, was nearly overwhelming.

"But… I'm no one! I wasn't… I'm just some girl."

The boy shook his head and his eyes grew hard. "No, Sarah. You have NEVER been 'just some girl.' When the Crown Prince harnessed the power of the Free magic, magic that none had been able to use since just after our kind disappeared from the world, we knew that we needed to start looking once more for you." The boy huffed. "We didn't expect it to take centuries. Now, for all that we began our search when the Goblin King was a child, we are running out of time. You must discover a way to defeat Kamenwati. Even now he seeks to escape. His very presence has grown so acrid and strong that he is beginning to dissolve the Seal, despite the power we caged his physical form with. It has not stopped him from influencing the world to his advantage."

Sarah opened her mouth to speak but the boy held up his hand. As Sarah subsided once again he said, "For the Labyrinth to have any chance at all of remaining in existence, it requires both the King and the Caretaker, both halves working as one to ensure that the Underground survives what is to come."

Sarah sat stunned. She hadn't wanted any of this to happen, and yet… how could she turn away? Here, sitting amongst the stars, with the first light of a new dawn rising behind her, Sarah was finally out of excuses. But still, she had to know…

"What If I just go home?"

The boy shook his head. "You cannot. Even if you did go back to the mortal realm and leave the Underground to face this threat alone, the evil that seeks you here would not simply let you go. Kamenwati knows of your existence, and he desires you. If you left, he would simply tear through the veil all that much sooner to get to you."

A single tear slipped down Sarah's cheek as she realized the enormity of what was coming.

Suddenly the boy leaned over and wrapped his skinny arms around her. "Don't cry, Sarah." He drew back grasping both of her hands in his. "There is joy and happiness in following the path that fate has set before you."

He looked seriously at her. "We cannot force you to walk where you would not, but fate has a way of getting what it wants, regardless of what we think of its plans. Although there will undoubtedly be sorrow, and hardship, and pain in your future if you choose to follow where your fate leads, there will also be joy, and love, and laughter as well. The past six years of hardship have made you strong enough to bear the pain for the sake of what is good and wonderful in your life."

Sarah drew a deep breath and straightened. "You really think I can do this?"

"This is what you were born for, Sarah. You have many gifts and many strengths. Why do you fear to take what is yours?"

Sarah shook her head. "I- I don't know. I didn't- I never thought I would ever rule anything, or live any kind of remarkable life. When I was young, I wished to be the heroine in a fairy tale. I pretended to be the princess on a great quest every chance I got. I made up silly stories about how the Goblin King had fallen in love with the princess I imagined myself to be…"

Sarah's voice trailed off in a laugh. "It was ridiculous, I know."

"And yet, not so ridiculous," the boy replied. "The King did indeed fall in love with you. So much so that he has risked all to save you. You have never been an ordinary girl, Sarah. You have always been extraordinary. Even your very name marks you as a princess. You were born to walk this path."

Sarah sat silently, thinking about what the boy had said as the light of a new dawn slowly washed over her. When the sun had fully risen, she stood and squared her shoulders. "If I was born to walk this path, then I will walk it of my own free will."

There was a sound like thunder as the mists around the pinnacle seemed to swell and applaud her words. The boy leaned close to whisper in her ear, "We will meet again, although we will not be the same. Warn Jareth - a storm is coming. You must be ready."

Then he pushed her off the pinnacle.

"I demand to know why we were not consulted before the Croí Foinse was utilized!"

Deirmuid's voice stabbed into his head, making the headache that had been growing since he arrived all that much worse. Cieran winced but made no reply. The Wood Elven King had been ranting ever since he had arrived in the Goblin Kingdom and he showed no signs of calming down, or even stopping for breath. Saying anything at all in reply, regardless of what one said, only served to set him off, eliciting further tirades. By now, everyone was basically just listening in silence as Diermuid reiterated what he saw as Jareth's long list of crimes over and over again.

Cieran groaned inwardly as Diermuid went off on another tangent, and rubbed his eyes tiredly. He was more than a little irritated himself, but he knew better than to show his feelings so openly. He and Jareth were going to have a little talk as soon as he could arrange it. There were obviously things going on with his son that he needed to know about, and he did not appreciate being kept in the dark.

The sound of hooves hitting stone was a welcome distraction and the room fell blessedly silent as Samoth entered. The greetings and exclamations of surprise died away as he stepped aside to reveal Jareth and Diona behind him. Immediately, every voice in the room rose up, demanding an explanation of recent events from the Goblin King.

Cieran stood from the throne and made his way toward his son, his expression grave. As he approached, Jareth bowed formally.

"Your Majesty."

Cieran nodded slightly. "Jareth. Join us, please."

Cieran stepped aside to allow Jareth and Samoth to enter before offering Diona his arm. He was surprised when she shook her head.

"No thank you, Cieran. I have little to add to discussions here. Jareth has my full support, but I would rather spend this time with my granddaughter."

Cieran nodded and turned back toward the rest of the room in time to see Jareth stride regally to his recently vacated throne and take his place upon it. A sudden silence descended as everyone stared at Jareth in shock. The room filled with the rustle of clothing as the Council members subtly shifted their stance, looking surreptitiously back and forth between father and son, waiting to see what was going to happen.

"What is the meaning of this, Jareth?" Diermuid demanded, breaking the silence.

Jareth merely glanced cooly at the outraged Wood Elf. Then, with a flourish, he produced a crystal. He dropped it on the floor to his left, producing a smoky cloud on the dias. His actions drew attention to the fact that the throne had been off center on the wide platform the entire time.

When the smoke cleared, an identical throne sat on the dias next to the one occupied by the Goblin King. Jareth looked at his father and gestured to the newly placed throne with an elegantly arched brow.

Cieran paused for a moment, ignoring the gasps and murmurs as he considered his son's actions. This was a bold statement that Jareth was making. It was a breach of protocol for a sitting monarch not to give up his or her throne when the High King or Queen visited. But to first take his throne, and then create another at his side, spoke of an assumed equality that went against all tradition. The breach was mitigated... slightly... by the fact that Jareth was the Crown Prince. Cieran still hesitated, weighing his options before heading slowly toward the thrones.

He kept his eyes on his son as he ascended the dias. Jareth's gaze never wavered and his expression remained hard. This told Cieran everything he needed to know. The High King ignored Diermuids strangled sounds of outrage as he turned to face the assembled Council and lowered himself into the throne at Jareth's side, declaring with his actions that he was supporting his heir's show of power.

Once he was seated, most of the rest of the Council took the seats that had been provided to them by Jareth's staff. Before the rustling and shuffling could fully die down, Jareth's voice cut through the room, his tone edging the boundary between annoyed and bored.

"To what do I owe the honor of this unexpected visit from the High King and his entire Council?"

Diermuid spluttered angrily while Andris stroked his beard in an attempt to hide his amused smile that did not reach his eyes.

"You know perfectly well why we are here, Jareth. Don't play games." Cieran shot a glance at his son. "What possessed you to make use of the Croí Foinse like that without consulting the Council first?"

Having previously spoken to Diona, Cieran already had a general idea of what had been going on in the Goblin Kingdom. While he sympathized with his son, there were still ancient and inviolate laws that had been broken over the last twenty four hours. That they were broken by the man to whom the enforcement of those laws was entrusted- a man who was also the High Prince- had sent shockwaves through the Underground. Regardless of how justified Jareth's actions may have been, he still had to answer for them.

Jareth sat straighter, facing the entire Council head on. "Did you expect me to simply allow an innocent girl to die? Did you think it in the best interest of the Underground to risk the magical fallout of her completely losing control of the power that had been ripping its was out of her when she arrived on my doorstep, hotly pursued by my brother and a band of orc raiders?"

The mutters ceased and several members of the Council looked thoughtful as Jareth continued to speak. "Did you want me to sit on my hands, waiting for approval from a Council that was not in session while the Aírioch that we have been seeking died in my care?"

Gethin stood and bowed before them, "Forgive me, Your Majesties, I know I am new to the Council, representing the Fairy Kingdom while our Queen is gravely ill, but I feel I must ask. How do we know this… Sarah... really is of the line of William the Wise?" He sniffed. "We only have Jareth's word to back up that claim. Perhaps she is as he says… but perhaps the Goblin King has another reason for having risked the Underground for this girl? Unless I have been misinformed, this is not the first time his association with this girl has been called into question."

"Hear, hear!" Diermuid said, lending support to Gethin's line of thinking.

Cieran blinked in surprise before glancing sideways at his son. He had been aware that something was going on between Jareth and this girl, but Jareth's actions, and Mathyn's actions as well, had given the relationship a new depth and meaning. Was it possible that his son was far more bound to this Sarah than he had expected?

His musings were cut short as Jareth scowled and said, "If she had died, and the power that she carried had been released, the magical explosion would have been immense. Had I not acted immediately, my kingdom would now be a smoking crater and none of us would be sitting here, discussing this as though I'd had any other choice!"

Jaerth's voice rang through the otherwise silent throne room. Cieran couldn't help but notice that he had neatly avoided Gethin's actual question.

Diermuid scoffed. "I seriously doubt the situation was so dire that you couldn't have waited an hour for an answer from the Council."

Jareth snorted. "An hour? I doubt that I had even half that time."

It was time to move things along. He needed to have a private discussion with his son as soon as he could. "Enough." Cieran's command silenced whatever retort Diermuid might have made. "I have already heard Diona's testimony on the matter. She gave her full support as High Priestess and assured me that there was no time to waste in this situation. Perhaps Elder Samoth would be so kind as to give his opinion on the matter?"

All eyes turned to the elderly centaur. Samoth bowed before the High King. "Gladly, Your Majesty." He straightened and faced the rest of the Council. "I agree with Jareth's assessment. There was no time to lose. Moreover, I gave him my support as a member of the Council as well."

He grinned at Diermuid and Gethin's outraged looks. "So although he did not have the support of the full Council, the Goblin King did ensure the backing of the all relevant parties who were present at the time. It was imperative that we act quickly to save the young woman's life."

"Unauthorized use of the Croí Foinse is an offense punishable by death or banishment!" Diermuid thundered. "Are we really going to let the Goblin King, a recently admitted member of the Council, get away with this flagrant disregard for our laws? I demand he be held accountable!"

From the corner of his eye, Cieran saw Jareth bristle on the throne next to him. As his son drew himself up, obviously ready to reply scathingly to Diermuid's call for punitive action, he cleared his throat and began to speak.

"As the High King, I cannot condone the Goblin King's impulsive and rash behavior. He is too apt to act without thinking, and, as has been pointed out, this is not the first time the Council has had to convene to address events taking place in this kingdom."

Below him, Diermuid smirked and folded his arms, his chest puffing out with pride at this perceived political win. Cieran narrowed his eyes at the Wood Elven King as a snarl from Jareth told him that his son had seen the triumph in the face of the scheming elf. Then a movement from Andris caught his eye. The dwarf made a subtle gesture that meant he would back any play Cieran chose to make in this moment. Giving the Dwarven King the tiniest of nods, he continued to speak, once again cutting Jareth off before he could blow up in the face of Diermuid's behavior.

"However, I have heard a great deal of testimony presenting mitigating factors that suggest the Council would be wise to hear what the Goblin King may have to say in his own defence. Leniency, and perhaps outright confirmation of his actions, may be called for."

The reaction of the Council was instantaneous and ranged from the outraged snarl of Diermuid, through the quiet interest of the Dark Elven monarchs, Helimar and Twylithia, to the amused snort of satisfaction from Andris. Cieran held up his hand and waited for silence. Beside him, Jareth was stone faced, sitting tensely as he waited for the ruling of the Council.

As the noise of their reaction died down, the Council also went silent, each contemplating the ramifications of their current situation and the possible paths forward. Finally an unexpected voice spoke from the back of the throne room.

"Let the Goblin King speak."

Gwenna Lagadec, Queen of Avalon, stood and moved to stand in front of the Goblin Thrones. "I want to hear what Jareth has to say." She placed a hand absently over her abdomen as she smiled up at his son and Cieran was reminded that she had quietly announced her pregnancy just after her husband left to defend the borders of Avalon. One corner of his mouth twitched up in a small smile at the remembrance.

She continued, "Surely he has an excellent reason for his actions. Although he may have acted rashly in the past, recent events prompt me to insist that this was no spur of the moment decision. I am positive there was a very good reason for everything that The Goblin King has done over the past few days."

Andris nodded. "Let him speak. There are too many things happening, both here and in our own kingdoms, to be too quick to deal out punishments without considering all of the facts."

Helimar nodded. "I agree." He glanced at his wife and then added, "We both do."

The rest of the Council remained silent. After several moments of silence, Jareth rose silently and stepped off the dias. He headed for the doors without a word as murmurs of surprise filled the room.

Cieran shot to his feet, astounded and horrified that his son would dare to leave at such a time.

"Jareth! Where exactly do you think you are going?"

Jareth whirled around, his eyes blazing and his face a mask of fury. "I am leaving. I refuse to sit and listen to this farce any further. If what I have already said is not defense enough for my actions then nothing I say will change the minds of those who doubt me. Every action I have taken today has been in the best interest of both my Kingdom and the Underground as a whole."

The Goblin King swept his gaze around the room, glaring at everyone within. When Cieran met the eyes of his son, he saw something beyond outrage. There was fury there, but also a fierce desire to protect and an indomitable will to do what he saw as the right thing, no matter the cost. In that moment, Cieran was in awe of his son. Shocked at his audacity, but proud of his strength and determination, Cieran couldn't help but admire the man that Jareth had become.

After several heartbeats, Jareth tore his gaze away. "No matter what judgment this Council may pass, I will maintain that I have done no wrong. Even if you should order my execution for treason, I will go to my death convinced that I have saved the Underground. I preserved my Kingdom and found the Airíoch… what more do you want from me?"

Jareth looked around again. Cieran wasn't sure whether he was gauging the reactions of those present or waiting for a response. Either way, no one moved or said a word. The utter confidence with which Jareth spoke seemed to drive home the seriousness of the situation.

"I couldn't do nothing!" Jareth cried into the silence. "Sarah was dying! Because of the mistakes I made, the woman I love was suffering, and her death would have destroyed not only me but everything I have ever worked to build... everything I care for! Now you want me to sit here and justify my actions in saving her while she lies comatose!" Jareth snorted and shook his head in disgust.

"I want nothing more to do with this. Pass whatever judgement you wish, but I will take no further part." Jareth whirled and strode through the doors without another word.

The hollow booming of the doors only seemed to punctuate the shock that filled the room in his wake. Cieran sank slowly back onto the throne beside that which belonged to Jareth and took a deep breath before pandemonium broke out.

Belinda stared down at the sleeping woman in shock. She had entered the room full of anger, determined to do away with the human woman as quickly as possible. But the sight of Sarah lying on the bed had stopped her cold.

What she was seeing was utterly impossible. Before her lay a fully Fae woman. There was no way that the mortal human should have had enough fae blood to have achieved this transformation. Everything she had ever learned about magic told her that she should have been human… no longer mortal, but still human. And yet, here Sarah was.

The delicately arched eyebrows, high cheekbones, the slightly pointed ears.. Belinda took another step forward and peered closely at her rival as she took stock of the Fae features... those just slightly too sharp teeth that hinted at fangs. Yes, this woman was Fae.

Belinda eyed her. She was also beautiful. She bit her lip. Sarah was very beautiful.

A distant sound from the corridor snapped her attention away from her contemplation of Sarah's face and form. She whipped around and peeked cautiously out the door. Jareth and Diona had just left, but she had heard the old woman tell Jareth that she would be returning soon. She didn't have time to stand here gaping at the girl.

Belinda turned back toward the bed. She had a job to do. Clearly there was more going on here than they had been aware of, but that only made it even more urgent that she eliminate this roadblock here and now.

She stepped closer to the bed, wiping her suddenly sweaty palms against her skirts and trying to swallow past the sudden lump in her throat. She took a deep breath and picked up the extra pillow that she had brought with her.

Natural, she reminded herself. It has to look natural.

Her hands shook and she nearly dropped the pillow. Her body felt cold as she approached the side of the bed. Still staring at Sarah she raised the pillow, then paused.

Can I really do this?

Slowly she climbed onto the bed and lowered the pillow over Sarah's face before hesitating again. Taking a deep breath, she gripped the edges of the pillow tightly and pressed the goose down pillow firmly against the face of the woman sleeping beneath her.

On the bed Sarah made weak movements and Belinda closed her eyes tightly, increasing the pressure and willing the woman below her to die quickly.

The sound of footsteps coming toward the room hit Belinda like bolts from a crossbow. Heart pounding, she snatched the pillow away from Sarah's face and scrambled off the bed. As she bolted toward the door like a frightened rabbit, she saw Sarah take a deep, shuddering breath. A curious mixture of relief and disappointment shot through her as she realized that her rival still lived. Clutching the pillow to her chest Belinda made her escape. She had failed, and there was no way to know if she would get another opportunity or not.

Sarah plummeted through the misty clouds and emerged once more into that velvety blackness that was her haven from the harshness of reality. She sighed, once more enveloped in the soft comfort of that place between unconsciousness and the waking world.

All thoughts of the Labyrinth, the evil that lurked below it, and the coming danger slipped from her mind as easily as though she had never known any of it. The longer she spent here, the more she forgot, until at last, no memory of her contact with the Old Ones remained. Instead, her mind hosted a parade of other memories. Scenes from her life danced in and out of the shadows, sliding across her awareness to be considered and analyzed, or pushed away.

A brief moment of panic as the darkness seemed to smother her came and went... and was quickly forgotten in this timeless space.

Slowly, the sound of a murmuring voice penetrated the safety of her black cocoon. As Sarah became more aware of the sound, the darkness started to fade. Sarah brushed away the locks of hair that floated around her face and looked around for the source of the disturbance.

There, far above her, was the same brighter patch that she had seen before she had… before… Sarah shook her head. She couldn't remember what had happened after she had seen it, but she did remember that she had seen this, and heard the murmur of voices before.

The soothing sound of the voice struck a chord in Sarah. It resonated deep within her, plucking and tugging at her heart until she could no longer ignore it. She had to see the owner of the voice.

Sarah struggled upward, toward the light that shone above her head, toward the voice that sparked such need in her that she felt she simply must obey the impulse to go to it.

It felt like she was weighed down by every rock Ludo had ever called upon. The waking world beckoned, and she struggled to reach it as it dangled so tantalizingly above her, always just out of reach. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, the darkness grew brighter as Sarah struggled toward wakefulness. As she swam up from the dark depths of unconsciousness, the murmurs turned to words, then to broken phrases, and finally full sentences that begged her to wake up.

Sarah's eyes fluttered. She was lying on a soft bed in a darkened room. The crackle of a fire sounded not far off and the bedclothes felt warm and heavy as they covered her from the midsection down.

"Sarah, you've got to wake up. I don't know what I'll do if you don't…"

She frowned. She knew that voice! Her mind began to whirl as her memories of the past few months crashed into her head. The ceiling above her, with it's massive darkened wood beams and solid stone supports blurred as tears filled her eyes.

Impatiently she blinked her eyes, pushing the memories away and trying to focus on what was happening right now. She was no longer in pain- that much she knew and was grateful for. As feeling slowly crept back into her body, she became aware that she felt different… powerful, not at all like she used to. Something about her was not as it had been, and yet, she was still the same Sarah. She wrinkled her brow and blinked several more times, trying to clear the tears that stubbornly pooled in her eyes before slipping silently down her temples.

"Please wake up, Sarah. I need to see that you are alright. I'll never forgive myself if… if you don't wake up. I failed you in so many ways. We need you. We all need you... but- but I think I need you most of all. I've been so unbelievably stupid - " The broken mutterings from the side of the bed made Sarah tilt her head to see who was there.

As her eyes slowly cleared, the tears slipping from her eyes and dropping unheeded on the pillow, she saw Jareth sitting in the shadows. He held her right hand gently between his own gloved ones. Feeling rushed back through her body as the sight of him awakened her dormant system. She could feel the warmth of his hand through the thin leather as he stroked his thumb over and over across the back of her knuckles. His head hung down as he spoke, his forehead nearly pressed against the edge of the bed between his arms. His face was hidden from her view by the fall of his feathery hair and the swell of the bedclothes.

Sarah swallowed hard as her heart began pounding. Again she felt a tugging in her breast as she laid there, watching him with wide eyes as he spoke words of love and anguish in equal measure. Her mouth was as dry as the desert as she worked it, trying to say something, anything, to let him know she was awake. Finally she was able to summon up just one word.

"Jareth."

Despite her inability to produce anything louder than that tiny, breathy whisper his head snapped up.

"Sarah?"

A look of relief washed over his features when he saw that she was awake and looking at him. His surged to his feet and hovered over her. The firelight behind him threw his face into shadow and she frowned at her inability to see him clearly.

"Thank the Fates! Are you alright?" He bent over her and frowned slightly as he noted her expression and brushed the remnants of her tears from her temples. Smoothing her hair back anxiously he asked. "Are you ok? Does anything hurt?"

She shook her head slightly, the movement a monumental effort.

"What-" she croaked and then swallowed, trying to bring some moisture back to her mouth so that she could speak.

Jareth turned away briefly. Sarah only had time to blink once before he was back at her side holding a cup of cool water.

"Here, Sarah." Jareth gently slid his arm around her shoulders and helped her rise just enough to be able to drink. "Slowly-" he commanded as he held the cool cup to her mouth. Sarah drank gratefully.

When the cup was empty, Sarah collapsed back against the pillows, unable to sit up under her own power. Her lip curled in disgust at her own weakness.

"Sarah?"

Jareth's voice as uncertain. Glancing up at him again, Sarah noted the anxiety that chased the sorrow and guilt across his face.

"What happened?" she rasped, scowling at him. Her mind still felt like a bit of fluff, floaty and unsettled, but something about Jareth's behavior was stirring things in the back of her mind. Conflicting memories were vying for her attention. The feel of his mouth on hers conflicted with feelings of utter devastation that were also somehow connected to Jareth. But, she loved him, didn't she?

"You- you almost died." Jareth's voice was ragged and her chest tightened at the emotion she could hear there. He reached down and clasped her hand between his gloved ones once more

"I was afraid that you wouldn't recover and then Samoth told me that it was my fault and I-"

His words sent a flood of memories through her mind. With a low cry of pain, she pulled her hand away from his with a spasmodic jerk.

"You shouldn't be here." She looked away from him, hoping to hide the tears that welled up in her eyes at the knowledge that he wasn't hers. He was betrothed to another. She didn't see the stricken look on his face, or the way his shoulders dropped in defeat at her words.

"Precious, please. Let me explain-"

Sarah shook her head. "You- You're engaged to someone else," she whispered helplessly. "I remember now. I saw the announcement. The way you acted, in our dream... I thought… and then the next day I saw the announcement and-."

Her heart felt like it was breaking once again. Her breaths came fast and hard and she clenched her hands as blackness nibbled at the edges of her vision. Everything sounded far away; the crackle of the fire, the rustling of the sheets and blankets around her, even the sound of Jareth's voice as he spoke her name over and over. She closed her eyes, hot tears slipping down her cheeks as she waited for that empty feeling, the void in her chest, to once more overtake her as it had before.

But the feeling never came.

Instead she felt the bed dip at her side. Then she was lifted up. The sound of her heart was loud in her ears as Jareth pulled her into his lap and held her close, his arms locked comfortingly around her.

"Shhhh. I'm sorry, Sarah." He stroked her hair with gentle hands. "I should have told you. I didn't mean to keep it from you, it just never came up."

Sarah allowed herself to lean against him for a few moments before making an effort to pull away. He tightened his arms, keeping her in place and, she ruefully admitted, keeping her from falling off of the bed in a graceless heap.

Abandoning her attempts to pull away, she lifted her head from his shoulder and spoke his name. He shook his head slightly and stared straight ahead, refusing to look at her.

She raised a shaky hand and turned his face so that she could meet his eyes. "Let me go, Jareth," she told him softly. "You are engaged to another woman."

Sarah swallowed back a sob as she continued. "I missed my chance, and I can't let myself get pulled back into something that is just going to break me again and again."

Sarah held her breath as Jareth rearranged her pillows and then gently settled her back on the bed. He tried to keep hold of her hands but she gently pulled them away. This time, she saw the look on his face at her gentle rejection and she nearly burst into fresh tears.

"Please go, Jareth. I want to be alone."

Jareth sighed heavily. "I've been a fool, and I've abused your trust again and again," he admitted as he stood. "But please believe me when I say that there is no love between Belinda and I. That betrothal was the will of the Council. It was never my choice, Sarah. I don't want Belinda. I never did."

Sarah looked away, grinding her teeth. Why wouldn't he just leave? This would be so much easier if she could just sever this feeling of connection that existed between them.

Gently, Jareth cupped her cheek and turned her face toward him as he bent over the bed. "I'll leave because you asked me to," he told her, "but I want you to know that I intend to end my betrothal as soon as the Council will hear my petition."

Sarah couldn't have stopped the question that popped out of her mouth if she had wanted to.

"Why?"

"Because it's you, Sarah." With his free hand he captured one of her hands and pressed it against his chest, right over his heart. "It's always been you and no one else."

He stared at her for just a heartbeat longer before dropping his hands from her and stepping toward the door. He glanced back toward her as he slipped out of the room.

"Sleep well, Precious."

Sarah stared at the door, trying to sort through her feelings. She was still unbelievably tired and the brief period of wakefulness had only increased her exhaustion, but it was a long time before she was able to drift off once more.

Suggestion of the Week:

I am ashamed to admit that I have not been keeping up with my fanfic reading list very well while I have been away. Many of the things I had lined up to feature here have either been finished or I need to reread them to catch up on all the updates I'm behind on. In any case, I am always willing to take suggestions!

Many thanks to the following people for their reviews since I last posted: JediAvenger, breejah0923, Enchanted Peach Dreams, lykiana, Tlcatlady, XShadowCatX, quincybones, Mad Shelley, xSomeDelicateFlowerx, MamaDrama, ArinnaMyrene, and TheWordMasterofFiction

Y'all are amazing for leaving me such encouraging reviews!

Shout out to all the readers who added me and my story to their favorites list after I posted the last chapter! Welcome to my interpretation of the world of the Labyrinth. I hope you continue to enjoy it!

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As always, thanks for reading. Your support is appreciated!

~LiteraryRhapsody