Notes: It has been some years since I wrote or posted any fan-fiction. When I have written, my attention has been primarily on original works, but here I am now, writing a story that first occurred to me over ten years ago. Even now, I would not have written it for my own pleasure, but with another reader in mind.

It is a gift to you, dear friend, because you make me desire to do admirable things. My greatest gift is with words, and by good fortune, I know your love of words. Thus, though I can slay no monsters for you, I can offer this. I dedicate it to you and hope that it brings you delight.

Love, do you remember

My name? I was lost

In summer turned winter,

Made bitter by frost.

And when June comes December,

The heart pays the cost.

–Guy Gavriel Kay, "Rachel's Song," The Summer Tree

It would be foolish to think that he simply vanished from my life. His attention was not that short, and as Hoggle had said, I had his attention.

I sensed it immediately, never doubting that he was still watching me, waiting for . . . something. It was worse at night, when the light took on the same silver quality that hung forever about him. He was a creature of moonlight and dreams, and that was as seductive as it was terrifying. In daylight, it was better, when the mundane details of school and friends could conceal the darker shadows of the world.

Even on the brightest days, however, I never doubted that he was there.

Did this knowledge frighten me? I truly cannot say. It should have. What girl would not be afraid that some strange inhuman being was watching her every movement? We are taught, after all, to be afraid of such things: of stalkers in the night, the men who will follow us into alleys and look in our bedroom windows. Every girl is told almost as soon as she can walk that she is never safe.

So it was that I, the same girl who had told him that he had no power over me, learned caution.

I did not know what he was waiting for, but I did know one thing.

I knew that I must never, ever say the words "I wish."

Of course, it isn't really as easy as that. You don't change your vocabulary or the way your mind works overnight, and it is nearly impossible to stop wishing things, especially when you are sixteen.

There were a few times that I messed up, and when I did, it was catastrophic.

The first time was a couple months after the original incident in the middle of an astonishingly hot summer day. The adults of the household were out on some sort of shopping expedition, and they had taken Toby with them. Somehow, even with the air conditioning on full blast, the house felt oppressively warm and stuffy. The air was so warm and humid that it smelled like a swamp, though only a mundane one, not anything as dreadful as I had encountered in the Labyrinth.

Desperate to escape the miserable heat, I packed a picnic lunch and fled the house for a shady corner of the park, somehow the breeze outside seemed cooler than the air conditioning, and the sound of water flowing nearby helped as well. I had brought The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe with me, and I sat down leaning against a tree to read and eat my lunch.

It was a poor choice of book really. I should have thought or at least been cautious, but I was still young then, and while I knew better, I did not yet have the awareness or self-control that I would come to learn.

Fanning myself with the pages of my book, I whined, "I wish it would snow."

I knew at once that it was mistake. The words were barely out of my mouth when I regretted it. "No, I mean-"

One of the greatest lessons I had learned in the Labyrinth was that you can never undo what you have done, only take responsibility for your actions and try to fix them.

The air grew chill almost immediately. Before, the sky had been that achingly bright azure that you only see in summer, but it faded now to the fainter blue of spring and winter, before the dull clouds covered it over entirely. Within moments, fat flakes were falling from the sky. Children playing in the park stopped to stare at the sky in amazement. I myself froze, terrified of what I had just done.

I looked around, trying to spot him. Surely, he was close by and would reveal himself now. There would be a challenge of some kind, and eventually I would meet its requirements and return the world to summer. This was, of course, how this sort of thing worked. I understood the rules of stories and adventures: you help whoever asks it of you, you don't get distracted by temptations, and you never try to cheat the rules. All the problems I had made for myself had come when I tried to break the rules. I was determined to do better this time. There would be no distractions, no cheating. I would have things set right before my worried father and stepmother arrived home with Toby.

The only problem was that Jareth was no where to be seen.

This left me with a dilemma. For the moment, the snow was melting as soon as it touched the ground, but when enough of it had fallen, it would begin to stick. And I knew him well enough to guess that the snow wouldn't stop falling until some sort of condition had been met. Until I found him, I had no way of knowing what that condition would be.

What would I do in a story? I asked myself.

The answer was obvious. I would close my eyes. I would listen, and I would feel, and I would find the way.

I closed my eyes, which somehow made the chill of the wind seem even colder. And where was that freezing wind coming from? He was the source of this snow, so the wind must be coming from wherever he was.

I turned to face into the cold blast of air and began to walk forward, keeping my eyes closed tightly. I don't know how long or how far I walked like that, my hands out in front of me, though I never ran into a tree or other obstacle. The ground beneath my feet was eerily flat, even though I knew that the park was filled with tiny hills and rabbit holes. As I walked, the wind grew harsher and colder, until at last my hands did touch something in front of me.

It gave slightly and felt like it was covered in fabric. My eyes snapped open in surprise.

I stood in the midst of a vast snow-covered plain. There was nothing in sight, but snow and sky and the two of us, me in my jeans and blouse, him in silver-gray velvet, embroidered over with ice-blue silk in a feathered pattern like frost on a window sill.

"Sarah," he said, "it's been too long."

Oddly, I could almost agree with him. In the weeks since my adventure, life had seemed dull and quiet, even though I had known that I could not afford to risk the danger that him returning to my life might bring to others. Now here he was before me once more. "Jareth," I said. There was a breathless quality to my voice, that I wasn't sure I liked.

A hint of a smile touched his strange features.

I realized that my hands still rested on his chest and I immediately tucked them into my pockets. "Tell me . . . tell me what I have to do to make the snow stop."

"You make demands so constantly," Jareth mused. "'Take my brother.' 'Bring my brother back.' 'Make it snow.' 'Make the snow stop.' Are you always so decisive?"

I glared at him. "I know that I need to stop saying things I don't mean, but this snow could cause problems! The plants will die, and nobody's ready for snow in June!"

Jareth crossed his arms and looked down at me. His amusement was clear. "Perhaps you should have thought of that before you wished it."

This was growing frustrating. I needed him to tell me what I had to do. I stomped my foot. "I know that! Please, I want to stop the snow. Tell me what to do."

"Do you truly wish to end this winter you have wrought?" Abruptly, his voice seemed serious.

"Yes!" I announced.

He took my shoulders and turned me around to face the direction from which I had come. There was a vast, snow-covered woodland behind me. "Somewhere in that forest is the very spirit of winter itself. It must be defeated to end the winter."

"Defeated?" I asked in shock. "You mean, in combat?"

Jareth nodded wordlessly.

This was not good. I could be clever if I needed to be, but I wasn't strong. I had friends that could be, but I had no idea where to look for them. No where in all of this snow had I seen Hoggle or Ludo or Didymus, any of whom might have provided me the help I needed. At last, I said, "Alright." I began to make my way towards the wood. Maybe I could find help somewhere in the forest.

Suddenly, Jareth was standing in front of me again. "Well?"

"Well, what?" I asked impatiently.

He appeared almost hurt. "Aren't you going to ask for help?"

"From you?" I asked skeptically. The only help he had ever offered me had been poor bargains that would lose me more than they gained.

"Your scorn wounds me, Sarah."

Still, one of the rules was that you never refuse help, especially not help freely offered. Jareth would be a dangerous and uneasy traveling companion, but I had once thought the same of Hoggle, and he had ultimately become one of my dearest friends. I drew in a deep breath and spoke the words all in one breath. "Jareth, would you please help me find and defeat the spirit of winter in the forest?"

He made a deep and courtly bow. "Of course. Nothing would make me happier."

I noticed as soon as we began approaching the forest that we were walking downhill. Given that I remembered how flat the way I came had been, this puzzled me somewhat. On the other hand, I was beginning to expect the normal rules of physics to go on vacation whenever Jareth was in the area. "Are we in the Labyrinth?" I asked him at last.

Jareth laughed at the absurdity of this question. "Do we appear to be?"

"No," I admitted, my pride a little hurt by his mockery, "But there were lots of places in the Labyrinth that didn't look like the Labyrinth."

He took pity on my ignorance. "That is why I did not ask you if it looked like the Labyrinth. Surely, you can feel the difference."

I considered this and realized that I could. It was nothing I could really put words to, only that it did not feel the same. There was a way that being in the Labyrinth felt, and I did not feel that now. I did feel something, however. This was not the same sort of place as my home, even my home when it was filled with goblins. There was a difference, and that was all the name I could put to it. "Then, where are we?"

"The North Wood," Jareth replied shortly.

Even as he said it, we reached the edge of the Wood. Beneath the trees it was dark, though the ground was still covered in snow, even beneath the thick branches. I remembered my first sight of the Labyrinth and how intimidated I had felt then. This was much the same, though at least there had been light and color in the Labyrinth. Within the Wood, there seemed to be only darkness.

"Are you afraid, Sarah?" The mocking quality was back in his voice, and I did not like it.

Lying was supposed to be against the rules. That did not mean that I never did it, but it seemed foolish to do so now. A part of me was certain that he would know if I lied. "Yes," I said grudgingly, "but it's not like I have any other choice."

Jareth did not answer me, only gestured me forward into the forest. Something in his movement seemed to imply slightly more respect, so I took one step forward and then another and then I was standing in the shadow of the vast, old trees.

The air seemed even more chill, and the trees did not seem to block the wind at all. My sneakers were already soaked with melting snow, and I was not dressed for the weather. I felt cold, as I entered the forest, so cold that I had almost forgotten what warmth was like. My heart seemed to sink to my feet. I looked at Jareth doubtfully. "How can I even do this?"

His answer was straightforward and horrible. "You can't."

I stared at him horror. "What do you mean, I can't?"

Jareth's expression was patronizing. "You are a slip of girl. I doubt you've ever held a weapon, much less wielded one. Of course, you cannot do this yourself. That is why you needed help."

My eyes widened. This was more help than I had expected from him. "You'll fight him for me?"

"I did agree to help you, did I not?" As if it were a foregone conclusion.

"I guess."

We resumed walking into the depths of the woods. Jareth seemed to know exactly which way to go, so I followed him. Without him, I knew that I would be lost almost immediately in the dark Wood around us. I clasped my arms so that I could rub my upper arms as we walked. I wondered how long I could go on before I got hypothermia. To distract myself, I asked, "Why are you helping me?"

Jareth looked over his shoulder, a crease appearing in his forehead. "Because you asked me to. When have I ever denied you?"

"When you wouldn't give me Toby back." My voice sounded like an accusation. The sound of our voices echoed in the forest. It felt like we were the only living beings in the entire Wood. It was strange, because the Labyrinth had been so full of life. Now there was silence and isolation. Except, of course, for Jareth.

"Now, Sarah," and his tone was devastatingly patient. "When you tell me one thing and then the reverse, how am I supposed to know what you really want unless I put you to the test? And was not that test, that adventure, what your heart really desired?" Suddenly, the crystal had returned to his hands. "You still have not accepted this from me." It danced over his fingers and seemed to reflect light that wasn't there. "Of course, you never really wanted him gone, and of course you never really wanted this snow. This-" He held the crystal aloft, "is what you really desire."

"I don't," I protested. "I'm not accepting that from you, Jareth."

"Not today, perhaps," he agreed coolly. "But one day, Sarah. I know what is in your heart, and so I will offer it to you, until you accept it." The crystal vanished into one of his sleeves and did not emerge. He looked over at me then and seemed to observe something for the first time. "You are cold."

"Yes," I snapped impatiently. "That's what happens to humans when we stand too long in the snow without a coat."

This appeared to be news to him. "I am sorry. I should have known."

I stared at him, puzzled that something so simple could perplex him.

Jareth had stopped walking. "You need a coat?"

I nodded a little ruefully. I had goosebumps, and I was shivering.

He observed me thoughtfully. "I suppose it must be green." He stepped over to one of the trees, finding a small hollow in its trunk. "Ah, here we are." He reached within and seemed to take old of something, because he pulled. Yards of fabric seemed to emerge from the tree, filling his arms. He spun shaking it out, and it swirled through the air between us, and then he had wrapped it around my shoulders.

It was green, as he had said, the warm golden-green hue of summer grass. I had no idea what sort of material it was made from. It was as heavy as wool, but softer than that with something of the smooth texture of satin. It was very warm. I clutched it around me. It was actually a cloak, rather than a coat, but I wasn't inclined to complain at that moment. "Um, thank you."

Jareth bowed again. "You are welcome."

As he rose, I noticed that the embroidery of his garment was no longer pale blue, but the same shade of green as the cloak he had just provided. Additionally, the velvet was less silver now and more of a gold-tinged white. I remembered how often his clothing had changed in the Labyrinth and wondered if it had any significance.

He said no more, but continued leading me deeper into the North Wood.

After some time walking through the icy forest, another question occurred to me. "How will we find the spirit?"

Jareth placed his hand on one of the trees. "It's still a long way." He pointed at the branches. "This is no tree of winter. It died in autumn and will be reborn in the spring. When we are closer, the trees will be armed against the winter with needles of green." He added, "The Wood will be colder too and darker."

The Wood already seemed very cold and dark to me, but I didn't say so.

We continued on, and the forest seemed endless. Still, it did seem as if the cold and dark were growing more intense. I walked closer to him then, not out of any desire to be nearer to him, but because I did not want to lose sight of him in the dim light. I suspected that if I got lost, then I would never find my way out of the Wood again. I would lie down under a tree in the darkness and never wake up.

"Sarah!"

I looked over at him and realized that it was not the first time he had said my name. Jareth was standing quite close, and he seemed near the end of his patience. "Yes?" I barely heard myself. I sounded sort of vague and barely there.

"You are too cold," he observed. "Mortals are so frail."

His hands on my shoulders pushed me downward so that I sat on a fallen tree.

"Wait," he instructed, as he began gathering small pieces of fallen wood in a pile before me. He lit them with a snap of his fingers.

Abruptly, the air around me was as warm as a summer's day. I was able to observe that the fire had not lit slowly as a real fire would have. One instant it had been a bare handful of twigs on the snowy ground, the next it had been a roaring fire, piled high with logs that seemed to have been burning for some time. "How-?" I began.

"There are now hows in magic," Jareth replied. "I suspect your mortal frailty also requires food and drink and rest?"

"Um, yes," I said, holding my hands out to the blaze. "Only . . . I don't want to be rude, but I'm not sure if I should eat food that you give me."

Jareth chuckled. "Is this because of the peach or because of fairy stories you have read?"

"Both."

"Very well, I apologize for the peach." He said it so graciously that it sounded as he were making a very grand gesture for my benefit. "As for the other, you have already eaten a bite of the peach, so more fairy food is unlikely to harm you."

I wasn't entire certain of this logic, so I looked at him closely. "If I eat what you give me, will I still be able to go home?"

He nodded slightly.

"And it won't turn me into a fairy or a goblin or something?"

He started to nod, then to shake his head, then finally spoke. "It will not turn you into a fairy or goblin."

I was sure that there were more questions I should ask, but I could not think what they might be, so finally I gave in. "Alright, I'll eat something."

"So generous of you to agree to accept a gift." Jareth held out his hand to me, and in it was what appeared to be a fresh-baked roll, still steaming in the chilly air.

I took it nervously, but it smelled so good that I could not resist biting into it. It was very warm after so long in the cold. "Thank you."

He held out his other hand, now holding a silver cup.

I took it and sipped from it, a little puzzled. It contained nothing more ominous that warm milk, sweetened with honey. It was very pleasant, and as soon as I had finished it, I was yawning.

"I will guard your rest," Jareth assured me.

I wasn't certain that I trusted him to do so, but it didn't matter, because I fell asleep anyway, before I could say a word of protest.

I felt like I lay upon a feather mattress, covered by silken sheets. Then I opened my eyes and found that I was lying on a layer of snow with the green cloak wrapped around me. I sat up startled, aware that I was no longer feeling quite so comfortable.

Jareth was standing nearby, his eyes on me. "Are you awake now, Sarah?"

"Yes." I pulled myself to my feet. "We should keep going."

"First, you should eat." He nodded at a small plate beside the fire, containing what appeared to be fried eggs and another freshly baked roll. There was another cup of milk as well, though it was not steaming.

I ate the meal hurriedly, though not so quickly that I did not notice how delicious it was. "Thank you for breakfast."

Manners were important. That too was part of the rules.

We resumed our journey.

After what seemed several hours, we finally began to see evergreen trees: firs, pines, and cedars, even several holly trees with bright red berries. At first, they were scattered among the leafless monoliths of oak and birch trees, but soon they came to predominate, and at last, they were the only trees in sight.

The forest grew darker, for the still green needles blocked the light even more than had the leafless limbs. The cold continued too increase, until even the cloak Jareth had given me was not enough to stop my trembling.

"We are very close now," he told me. "Do you even know what to expect?"

"No," I confessed, a little anxiously. Jareth's presence was not very comforting. Even when he was being courteous, there was nothing soft or friendly about him. I missed Hoggle's sharp-tongued humor and Ludo's quiet loyalty and Didymus' unending courage. In contrast, Jareth seemed very distant. He still made me feel uneasy.

I should not have been surprised that he sang, for music always seemed to move around him, as naturally as he breathed.

Sing we of mystery, now as long ago,

Bright red holy berries, blood upon the snow.

The Oak King shall rise, the waxing year to bring,

Therefore bid we farewell to the Holly King.

In the deep Midwinter, all seems in a trance.

Comes the golden Oak King in his age old dance.

Comes he to slay, yet honor he does bring,

To his fallen brother the darksome Holly King.

Come the bright Midsummer, the year's wheel turned around,

Then shall be the Oak King's blood upon the ground.

Ever it comes, once more the year's waning,

Then shall be victorious, the darksome Holly King.

Sing we of a mystery, now as long ago,

Bright red holly berries, blood upon the snow.

The Oak King shall rise, the waxing year to bring,

Therefore bid we farewell to the Holly King.

Jareth went silent.

I wasn't entirely certain what he meant. "So, the spirit of winter is the Holly King?" I guessed at last.

"Yes, given strength and brought forth in the wrong time and place." Jareth looked at me with amusement. "All at the whim of a beautiful young girl, who did not even want what she asked for."

My face flamed at this. He was right, of course. I had been an idiot, but I was also sixteen and did not like to be reminded of my own folly. "And you're going to fight him for me?"

He sighed. His face was serious. "That is what I have agreed to do. I shall be your Oak King, if you but name me as your champion."

This was more familiar ground. Ladies in stories always had champions. Still, I had always imagined that if I were to have one it would be Sir Didymus or a handsome young man I had fallen hopelessly in love with. At the moment, however, I did not seem to have much choice in the matter. "Alright." I frowned, remembering stories I had read of knights. Generally, a lady was supposed to give the knight some sort of token, usually a piece of her clothes.

I took careful inventory of my clothes and realized that short of tearing something, the best I could manage was one of my shoelaces, which had its own drawbacks. Still, you had to do things the right way, so I sat down and unwound the shoelace. I held it out to him. "Jareth, I entreat you to act as my champion against the Holly King."

He took the shoelace and tied it carefully around his arm. It should have looked out of place there amidst his strange finery, but somehow it did not. I noticed that the colors of his clothing had changed further. The white gold had darkened to a more brilliant hue, like sunlight, and the green embroidery had spread to cover more of the garment in a pattern of oak leaves. "I shall act in your name in this, Sarah." He knelt briefly, putting him just below eye level with me. "I shall need you to find me a weapon. A stave would be best." He pointed at a pile of brush. "I'm sure there's something suitable in there."

It didn't seem likely. All I could see there was damp black wood, covered by the snow, but I went to pick through it anyway, mostly so I could say that I had tried.

To my surprise, I found a single long pole of golden wood near the bottom of the pile. It was perfectly straight and perhaps six feet in length. I turned back to Jareth in puzzlement. "Will this work?"

"It will serve."

I brought it over to him, and Jareth rose to his feet as he took it. "We will find him in the next clearing, Sarah. You must watch, no matter what happens, and do not be afraid."

"I won't," I said with more certainty than I felt.

I had the strange feeling that something unusual was going to happen in that clearing, though I did not know what.

The clearing was filled with sunlight. After so long in the dim light of the room, it hurt my eyes. I realized that it was so bright because the sunlight reflected off the snow in such a way that it magnified the brilliance many times over. In the center of this, stood a strange man.

His skin was very pale, as was his hair, which had barely any color at all. His eyes were blue, like a shadow on the ice. All of his features were sharp, as if they had been cut from ice. For all that his form was as human as my own, I would never have mistaken him for a mortal.

His clothing was cut of much the same pattern as Jareth's, though it was white embroidered with dark red tear-drop shapes. More than anything, the pattern resembled drops of blood. I thought of the song that Jareth had sung me and shuddered. I realized that actual harm would be done in this battle, not the petty violence I had seen in the battle in the Labyrinth. As if to emphasize this fact, the man bore no mere staff, but a glittering silver blade.

Jareth stepped into the clearing. "Holly King!"

The other man met his gaze. "You trespass here, Jareth. This is not your story."

"I have been invited into it," Jareth replied, touching the shoelace on his arm. "On this day, in this story, I am the Oak King."

The Holly King's eyes widened. "What fool drew you into this?" His eyes strayed to me. "You?"

I wasn't entirely certain what to say.

"As her champion, I cannot permit you to call Lady Sarah a fool." There was a hint of smugness in his tone, and I began to suspect that he had other motivations in this than helping me.

"Then let us end these words and replace them with actions." The Holly King readied his blade. "Come."

Jareth moved forward with surprising speed, swinging his staff in a wide arc.

The two of them became of blur of movement, yet I could still see every blow. Each rapid, brutal movement followed the last in a progression violence that was shocking to me. Jareth's face had gone implacable and grim. There was no pause in the battle, and everything happened so quickly that I felt I could not even blink.

As they fought, it seemed the Jareth's strength was growing, even as the Holly King was weakening. With increasing frequency, Jareth's blows began to his their target with bruising force, and often the Holly King was forced to retreat. At last, Jareth forced the Holly King back to the edge of the clearing and with a final movement struck the other man down and planted the staff firmly in his body.

What happened next shocked and frightened me. The staff began to sprout, and oak leaves fountained outward from its ever widening trunk. The staff grew roots as well which carved their way through the Holly King's fallen body. Blood spattered over the nearby snow. An eerie silence prevailed. The Holly King did not scream, only suffered and died as an oak tree grew from his body.

Remembering my promise to Jareth, I watched, my eyes glued to the horror unfolding before me.

In moments, it was over. The snow was gone, the ground sprouted with brilliant grass, sprinkled with crimson flowers. The trees around us were covered in green, not with the needles of an evergreen, but with the soft leaves of summer. Jareth stood before the enormous oak tree that had slain the Holly King, gasping for breath. It was the first time I had ever seen him in a moment of weakness, a fact that shook me almost as much as the horror I had just witnessed.

He turned to face me. "Are you happy now, Sarah? Was that what you wanted?"

I did not answer, too stunned to respond.

"Go home," he said coldly. "This is done."

I blinked. "I don't know the way."

Jareth sighed, but his patience seemed to return. "Close your eyes."

I closed them.

"Turn around."

I turned.

"Take three steps forward, then open your eyes." His voice sounded odd. "Goodbye, Sarah."

I took three steps forward and then opened my eyes.

When I opened them, I stood in the park again. The snow was no longer falling, though the ground was still damp where a few fallen flakes were melting. In another moment, they too were gone and there was no sign of the strange things that had happened moments before.

Of course, that was not the end of it.