My apologies for waiting so long to upload! I've been moving and settling in to my new place. I hope the length of this one makes up for my tardiness! Side note: I've started spelling Sarah's name with the "H" on the end, as a user had informed me of my previous mistake. Shout out to anyone who has left reviews! I appreciate all your comments. (To the one reviewer that was upset by the way Sarah treats the man who saved her father's life, please be patient. Part of the idea for this story was that Sarah would learn how to be more selfless and grateful, and stop taking the world's abuses so personally. Her lesson will be learned, I promise!)

***As always, I do not own the rights to Labyrinth or any of its characters!***

In her room that night, Sarah turned Jareth's words over in her mind. She tried to see past his softened gaze, his understanding expression. She tried to see the evil underneath that she knew was there. That fairytale villain from her childhood still remained, beneath his rippling coat and trumped up benevolence. She just knew it. But it was difficult to picture him that way, she admitted to herself. He had saved her father's life. And she'd treated him like some sort of heartless rogue. Perhaps that's what he'd been to her before, but now? She had grown so much since that fateful night years ago, and so had he. Maybe he had changed.

Sarah rolled beneath the sheets of her enormous bed restlessly. Unable to sleep, she leaned over and opened the top drawer of the nightstand beside her. She pulled the strange, shape shifting apple from the drawer and turned it over in her hands. How had it changed earlier? Had Jareth enchanted it somehow, knowing that she would take it from the kitchen staff at some point during her day? It wasn't the first time he'd enchanted a fruit, she thought to herself. She gripped the apple firmly in her hand and tried to remember the dream. The feeling of floating, the sashaying of tulle and satin, the way her entire being felt weightless, submerged in that drowsy depiction of fantasy and mirth. It was perfectly created for her, that dream.

She shivered. It chilled her to think that he knew the inner workings of her mind, her fantasies and wishes. He had known all along the things she had wished for in those naïve dreams of hers, the breathless desperations of a girl who was no more than a child privileged to believe that someone was listening. But in her case, he was listening. He was always listening. Her hands grew cold. She thought of the peach and the dream, and she thought of the waltz with him and the way she finally felt like a character from one of her books. But she thought of something else too.

Being in that dream had made her realize exactly what she didn't want. All those years waiting for some princely hero to sweep her into a rose-tinged romance were a waste. That wasn't what life was supposed to be like. What she truly wanted was something real. She wanted to protect her family, to stand up for herself and her beliefs, and to never lose sight of what was important. She had almost lost all of that in Jareth's perfect dream. Sarah had broken through then, had she'd keep pushing now.

The apple felt warm beneath her skin and she held it up to her face. Its surface changed before her eyes to that shimmering, translucent crystal again. Only this time, it didn't show her the ballroom, it showed her something else. She saw herself and Toby. She saw her father there, seated in a chair next to Christmas tree. It was a holiday sometime in the future. Toby was older, almost a teen. They opened gifts and exchanged hugs. And Sarah saw something else too—a tiny golden rose necklace laced around her neck. She narrowed her eyes to be sure, but it was there. What did it mean she wondered? Perhaps it was just another one of Jareth's tricks, to show her something so perfect and then remind her that she would never truly be rid of him.

As her breathing slowed and she began to get tired, the crystal slowly morphed back into an apple again. She fell asleep, and the apple rolled from her limp hand, off of the bed, out of the room and down the hall where it turned a corner, entered a room, and jumped into the waiting hand of the goblin king sitting at his desk. Jareth grinned before lifting the apple to his lips and taking one big, delicious bite.

The sun climbed brightly over the horizon the next morning, its streaming light shining in through Sarah's windows and waking her earlier than she was used to. She groaned something inaudible and rolled over, shoving her face between the sumptuous pillows. She had never been a morning person.

Sarah drifted back to sleep, but it wasn't long before the birds of the Underground began their chortled and mangled version of a melody. Sarah sighed and got out of bed. She wouldn't be getting anymore sleep that morning. She peered at the clock on the mantle. Lord help her, it was hardly half past six in the morning. Grumbling incoherent curses, Sarah stumbled over to the bathroom adjoining her suite and closed the door. Not long after, the door to Sarah's room creaked open just a sliver, and a furry, chittering goblin came teetering in.

He was round and had stubby little legs and arms, and two large purple eyes. He very much resembled a pom pom, if that pom pom had been dunked several times in dirty dishwater. He sniffed curiously around the room, whispering gibberish to himself all the while. The bathroom knob turned, and Sarah came out, wearing a bathrobe and towel drying her hair. The little creature dove, unseen, into the armoire in fear. Sarah moved toward the armoire to select an outfit for the day. She stopped when she saw both the bedroom door and the armoire door were ajar.

"Hello," she called out, her eyes shifting around the room. If Jareth was playing tricks on her, she'd much rather suffer through them while clothed. She shrugged and pulled open the armoire door. She screamed as the furry little goblin jumped out toward her and ran across the room, wrapped in a silky scarf that he must've tangled himself in. Sarah had pushed herself up against the opposite wall, thinking that what she saw must've been a very large goblin rat. As she calmed down, she got a better look. The tiny thing was shivering in a corner, all tangled up in the scarf, eyes wide with fear.

"It's okay," Sarah said, "It's okay," she repeated softly as she moved slowly toward it. The tiny goblin tensed up as if to run and Sarah stopped. "Let me help you," she said. It relaxed enough to let her unwind the scarf from its frail form. "There now," she declared, "isn't that better?" The little goblin gleefully chittered and snuggled up against her ankles. Sarah reached down and pet the top of his head. "What's your name?" she asked, and when he answered in a series of clicks and whispy purrs she stated, "I'll have to think of something to call you that I can pronounce." She patted his head once more and stood up.

The little creature darted between Sarah's legs as she worked her way around the room, getting ready for the day. From the armoire she selected a long, dark gold skirt and a flowing white blouse to tuck into it. She strapped some brown leather sandals to her feet and leaned over the vanity, looking into the mirror as she smoothed down her hair. As she began to straighten back up, the little rose necklace that Jareth had sent up to her caught her eye. She reached out a hand slowly to grab it, but hesitated. Would accepting a gift from him mean that he somehow won? Sarah pulled her hand back and shook her head softly.

She left the room, the tiny goblin following her and the necklace still left sitting on the vanity tabletop.

She nearly ran into Hattie who was hurtling down the hall outside her room in a frenzied state. She carried an armful of folded linens, which she proceeded to drop when Sarah surprised her.

"Oh, Lady!" she cried apologetically she crouched down and began to gather up the sheets and bedspreads, "I didn't see you, I'm so sorry!"

Sarah kneeled down to help the frightened maid. "It's okay, I'm sorry I startled you," Sarah apologized.

Hattie stood up and tucked a loose hair beneath her maid's cap. "I was just coming to tell you that breakfast is ready. Kingsy isn't down yet, but I expect he'll be along shortly." Hattie reached out a hand and petted the silky material of Sarah's skirt. "Oh I quite like this one, Lady," she crooned as she swayed softly from side to side.

Sarah smiled, "Yes, it is nice. I suppose Jareth has good taste."

Hattie blushed, "I'd say so. Kingsy loves his textiles, he does."

Just then, the tiny goblin rushed out from beneath Sarah's skirt and sniffed Hattie's ankles curiously. Hattie leapt back and gave a little squeal. Because she was so small, Sarah's little friend came up nearly to Hattie's waist.

"Who is that?" Hattie cried as she backed a few feet away.

"I have no idea," Sarah answered, "He just wandered into my room this morning. I've been trying to think of what to call him."

Hattie shivered and gulped, "Perhaps you could call him Killer."

Sarah chuckled, "I don't think he has a mean bone in his tiny goblin body."

Hattie shook her head and mumbled a goodbye as she shuffled away down the hall. Sarah reached down and patted the little creature's head. She made her way down the dining room. Breakfast was already served—pancakes with fruit and cream. There was a fresh pot of coffee on the table and her chair had been pulled out for her. There was no sign of Jareth. Sarah sat down and folded her hands in her lap. She watched the clock tick by for a few minutes before the heavy wooden doors opened and the goblin king strode into the room. He wore white trousers and a light blue peasant blouse with a silver chain looped through his belt loops. His eyelids were dusted with a translucent, shimmering powder, and as always, he wore the same amulet around his neck. He nodded politely in Sarah's direction before taking his seat. He took a pair of glasses from his pocket and slid them up over his nose while reaching for a book that had been placed next to his place setting. He stopped when he noticed Sarah hadn't been eating.

"Dear Sarah," he said, a grin tugging at his lips, "Were you waiting for me?"

Sarah resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "It's impolite to begin without the host," she said, smiling softly in his direction, her eyes cast down at her empty plate.

Jareth seemed to accept this answer and began to carefully place food items on his plate. Sarah did the same. They ate in silence for a few moments before Jareth put his book down and looked across the table at her.

"How did you sleep?" he asked, folding his hands under his chin.

"I was fine until those birds began their incessant chorus." Sarah complained, "But otherwise, I slept fine, thank you." Jareth seemed to revel in the sound of her thanks and savored the moment a bit before responding.

"The birds wake me as well. I can have the gardeners install something outside of your windows to keep them away, if you'd like." He waved his hand in the air as if doing her this small kindness was of no effort to him. Sarah knew that he had been used to a certain kind of life—one in which people below him did things for him at the drop of a hat. Sarah scoffed under her breath quietly, and met his gaze from across the table.

"You're used to people serving you, aren't you?" she asked. Jareth eyed her curiously, wondering if this would transform into one of their heated little verbal spars he so enjoyed.

"I am royalty, Sarah, it is not uncommon for members of royal blood to employ servants." He grinned, twirling his fork around on his plate, never taking his eyes off of her. Her cheeks grew red and hot and she had to look away from him. He was irritating and obnoxious, but he was right. Still, she pushed on.

"Do you know how to do anything by yourself?" she inquired, eyes narrowing.

"Do you?" he asked. He laughed loudly, mouth open and head hanging back.

Sarah clenched her fists. "I solved your labyrinth." She stated flatly, holding her own.

Jareth stopped laughing and lowered his head. He looked slowly from side to side, as if making sure no one had heard her.

"Yes," he confirmed, "Yes you did. And you've been the only one to do so."

Sarah stopped short. Her? The only one to reach the goblin city and confront Jareth in that warped and twisted fever dream of a maze? It seemed impossible. But perhaps not many humans had ever set foot there, and she was merely one out of a meager handful to get it right.

She put her fork down and wiped her hands on her napkin. Taking a shaking breath, she looked him in the eyes and asked him, "How many people have come to this place?"

Jareth hesitated, not knowing if answering her was a good idea. How much did she need to know about his world? He had always enjoyed the sense of power that came from her confusion and surprise as she tried to navigate through the Underground. If he began disclosing information to her, then that would all change. However, he decided, this one little piece to the puzzle couldn't hurt.

"More than you can imagine," he answered gravely. He continued to twirl his fork across his plate, watching her reaction with an amused expression. Her eyes were scanning the ground as her mind worked to absorb what he had said.

"And how long have people been coming here?" she inquired, her fingers working anxiously against one another in her lap.

Jareth grinned a half smile, "Centuries, my dear."

Sarah paled. Jareth thought she might be growing faint, and was about to change the subject when the little goblin from Sarah's room lightly patted his boot with a little paw. Jareth snapped his head down in surprise, and upon seeing the creature, sneered and pulled his foot back.

"How unsavory," he stated, "These servants have got to watch their pets better." He stood as if to remove the thing himself when Sarah rushed over and lifted it into her arms.

"He came down with me," she vouched, "I found him this morning going through my room."

Jareth eyed them both slowly and softened when he saw the way Sarah's hands clutched protectively around the goblin.

"You always did have a soft spot for my subjects," he laughed quietly. His eyes sparkled with something that almost looked like affection, and although Sarah was drawn to the same feeling, she pulled herself back and straightened up.

"I'd like him to stay with me, if that's alright." She pet his head and scratched between his ears. The creature crooned and mumbled softly to itself as it started to fall asleep. Jareth couldn't help but smile. He waved his hand as if to say it was no business of his what she did, and sat back down. Sarah carried the goblin creature over to her chair and set him on the floor as she continued with her breakfast.

"Does your little friend have a name?" Jareth asked, picking up his book once more.

Sarah thought for a while before responding. She looked at the creature once more, with his eyes shiny and as purple as a field of violets. His awkward cuteness was almost overwhelming in that one moment and Sarah giggled under her breath, despite her present company. The creature did a few spins and sat down beside her feet.

"I think I'll call him Plum," she answered finally, "Because of his purple eyes."

Jareth eyed her with amusement as he pushed his glasses up over his nose. His half smile tugged at his lips and he leaned toward her and said "I'd have thought you liked peaches better."

***Thanks for sticking with me, readers! Stay tuned for more-I'll be introducing some new characters as well as going into detail on Jareth's background and writing about the Summer Festival with Hoggle, Ludo, and Didymus.***