Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Sarah had been editing for the last– she didn’t want to count how many hours, if she was being honest. And she was alone so there was no reason not to be. She was in her sweatpants and a tank top, wearing a blanket like a cape and with socked feet jammed into her house slippers. Her messy bun was doing a mediocre job of keeping her hair out of her face, but it hadn’t annoyed her enough to fix it yet– just like the contortions she was doing in her office chair hadn’t caused her enough discomfort for her to adjust.

She didn’t expect anyone to see her this way, and she didn’t expect anyone to be in her studio slash guest room at two AM. 

Which was why, when she felt herself spinning, her first instinct was that someone had broken in and was attacking her. 

She leapt to her feet, landing in a familiar hazy broken landscape. The floating remains of the castle beyond the goblin city had stuck with her in her dreams, but she was fairly certain she hadn’t fallen asleep. 

And if she had, this was a very different dream than in years past. 

The Goblin King was there, but not as she’d seen him last. Then, he’d been proud and graceful in his defeat. Now he was chained, beaten, made to kneel, though he held his head high, clearly in defiance of the two women who stood over him. 

Sarah didn’t actually know what he was, other than ‘not a goblin and not a human’, but these women were more of the same. Almost glowing, sharp and fierce looking in their beauty, softness pulled around them like gauze, but their wild edges peeking through. Both of them were taller than she was, but the tall one was so much so that Sarah might have guessed she was part giantess. And, given where she was, maybe that was true.

They noticed Sarah, stared for a moment, then the shorter woman laughed. The sound was not kind. 

“This is who you would summon to save you?” The smaller one asked, addressing the Goblin King. He didn’t answer her, just turned to look at Sarah. Silently. Pleading. Sarah could almost hear the echoes of what he’d offered her as a teenager, here. 

“This is the mortal woman who stole back her offering. She has been here before.” The taller of the two spoke calmly, measuredly, and Sarah felt like she was being weighed with her eyes. It was a cold feeling. 

“Why am I here now?” Sarah asked, finally finding her tongue. She pulled at her blanket cape, adjusting to hide the fact that there was no bra on under her tank top. “Save him from what?” 

She wasn’t sure how she felt about being ‘summoned’, but she did know she needed to get a better picture of what was going on, and it didn’t look like the Goblin King was going to be a lot of help.  

“We are the rulers of the neighboring kingdoms, and we are invoking our right of escheat. King Jareth is being forcibly abdicated, and for his crimes of neglect and mismanagement of his lands, he is to be beheaded.” The cold one explained. 

Sarah felt her brow furrowing. 

“This all sounds very… legal and formal. I’m not exactly in a position to help with either of those things.” 

The smaller one laughed again. “Oh, we can tell.” 

“Jareth has brought you here as his Second, his Champion. It is an ancient tradition– usually only invoked by adolescents. If you agree, he will be allowed to attempt the trials of office a second time, and, should the two of you succeed, he will retain his throne and his lands.” The tall one didn’t sound altogether bothered by it. 

“And his head.” The smaller one added.

“And if I refuse, or if we fail?” Sarah asked. 

“He dies, you go back to your… mortal life.” The smaller one sniffed, clearly unimpressed. 

Sarah glanced back at Jareth, proud but bound and on his knees, bloodied, bruised, but his face full of hope. She’d beaten him before, told him he had no power over her. It was clear he did, though– he’d been able to bring her here, even in this state. And… she wanted to help him. She wasn’t entirely sure why. Maybe she’d grown since the last time she was here, maybe it was how they talked about her ‘stealing back her offering’. She’d thought a lot about him, about what her last visit must have been like from his point of view. It had been difficult to guess, knowing so little of him. She didn’t even know what he was, let alone the rules that clearly governed even the King of the Goblins.  

But she did know what he was not, and he was not a lamb for the slaughter. Not so innocent nor so powerless. Seeing him this way felt wrong. And they weren’t on the same side before, but she had more reason to be on his side than that of the women who were threatening his life. 

“Alright.” She said. “Why not. What have I got to lose?” 

The relief on his face was short lived, and he grimaced as she spoke her question. 

The two women smiled. 

“But.” Sarah added hurriedly, “I have a couple of conditions.” 

She pushed to see if they would object; they did not. 

“One: I’m going to need a change of clothes. This isn’t very conducive to any sort of trials.” She gestured at herself, the blanket cape, the slippers. The taller one nodded, and, heartened, Sarah plowed forward. “And second, I want to know the names of his accusers.” 

The women looked between themselves, clearly amused. 

“I am Nerys,” said the smaller one, “King of the Skies. And this is Eiluned, King of Crystals.” 

Eiluned nodded, this time clearly in lieu of a bow or curtsey. Sarah felt like she should do one of those things, but given she wasn’t sure of the rules here, and she wasn’t sure what kind of status being the Champion of the Goblin King afforded her, she knew she was more likely to bungle the attempt. 

“Great. Thank you. So. When do the trials start?” 

“At the thirteenth hour.” Nerys gestured and there, just like before, the thirteen hour clock face appeared. It was positioned at 11, so they didn’t have long to wait. 

Eiluned gestured at the Goblin King, and his chains fell away. 

He stood, swaying a bit, and Sarah almost went to help him up, but she worried that would bruise his pride, and, at present, that might be all that was holding him together. 

“Jareth,” Eiluned declared, with a weight that felt ceremonial. “You may prepare your Champion. You have two hours. We will return when the Trials commence.” 

They faded out, and Sarah turned toward the Goblin King, only to find them back within the castle proper, everything much more solid and real feeling here. There was a hush through the halls, and that also felt wrong. Everything so far was a little off from what she expected, and it left her ill at ease.

“Thank you.” He said, not looking her in the eyes. “And, I’m sorry.”

Chapter Text

“Well, we don’t have a lot of time. You’d better talk while we prepare. What exactly are these trials?” She instructed, starting to walk out of the throne room before realizing she had no idea where to go. 

Amused, he waited a moment, then led her deeper into the castle. 

“The trial in this case is the Labyrinth.” He opened the door to a room where the walls were lined with wardrobes, and gestured to one for her. 

“That’s it? Is there a time limit?” She began going though the offerings, unsurprised to find primarily flouncy looking shirts and tight looking… well, tights. 

“The same as last time, thirteen hours. But Sarah, this isn’t the Labyrinth that you encountered before.” 

She paused for a moment, pulling the shirt she’d chosen on over her tank top, then spoke once her face was free of the fabric. 

“You’ve got more than one?” 

The Goblin King huffed a little. “It changes, based on the person facing it. Before, you were barely more than a child, with all the amorphous fears born of a young woman’s uncertainties. You were afraid of not understanding the rules, of being tricked or tantalized into something you knew you shouldn’t be doing. Now you know more. You’ve seen more. And I…” He trailed off. 

For the first time since arriving, Sarah felt worried. 

“What kind of things are we likely to run into?” 

The King shrugged. 

“It will depend how the Labyrinth chooses to combine our challenges. We may encounter things made for just me, or just you, or, depending on how compatible our pitfalls are, there may be things we will both find difficult. Ordinarily, when these trials are undertaken by a youngster, it is with a guide or a coach or a tutor. Someone to help explain and find the lesson in the challenges. A way to bond with your kingdom and learn from your shortcomings, the better to serve your people.” 

“And what shortcomings do you expect to be confronted with?” Her sweatpants were less revealing than the leggings, but there was a level of security they would offer, if she thought she could get them over her hips.

“I don’t suppose you have anything my size and a little thicker, fabric wise, for pants?” 

She saw as his eyes raked down her body, and while she knew he was measuring her, by invitation, she couldn’t help the flush that followed, and couldn’t help but wonder what he thought of how she’d changed. 

He gestured at another armoire. 

“My first time through the Labyrinth, I was separated from my tutor. I was trapped in my owl form for a time and one of my own subjects made me capture vermin. Later I had to judge over squabbling between goblins about mold and land holdings. But that was all… oh, centuries ago. Now? I suspect there will be challenges aligned with the accusations leveled against me. That I do not care for the wellbeing of my subjects, that I am a tyrant who asks too much of them. That I have not seen to the keeping of the Labyrinth’s wild lands.” 

Sarah frowned, her back to him as she slipped off her sweats and pulled on a pair of the pants that were somewhat like leather, though more flexible than any leather she’d ever encountered. It took her a moment to figure out lacing the front, and she gave up on her underwear not showing through the gaps in the lacing and just shoved the shirt down the waistband to cover them. 

“You’re centuries old?” She asked him. Then: “More importantly: Shoes? Tools? Weapons?” 

He led her into an antechamber filled with boots, and by the time she had tugged a pair on, he’d changed into something closer to practical. She was almost jealous.

“At least you have magic. That’ll be handy, I guess.”

“I don’t know what sort of tools or weapons will be of help. I won’t have any power available to me, so for the purposes of these trials I’ll be no better than a human.” 

“Gee, thanks.” She spoke sardonically. “I know last time, Hoggle and his rope came in handy. Is there any chance we can send some kind of message to the folks who helped me last time?”

“I’m only entitled to one champion. We can recruit those we find along the way, but as for those we contact ahead of time– it’s likely that they will be waylaid or imprisoned for attempting to help. The only real help I can think to offer would be the scriptorum, with its records of past trials. We might gain some insight into the sort of puzzles that await us.” He sounded exhausted, already a bit like he’d given up, and Sarah noted that the scraped side of his face seemed to be in the process of turning into a brilliant bruise.

“Is there anything you can do for us while you have magic to put us ahead once it gets turned off? Heal yourself up, give us a full night’s rest, anything like that?” 

He stared blankly at her for a moment, then chuckled. 

“I forget how little you understand this world! No, nothing quite so grand as all that. I can have food brought up to us with stimulant properties. Something rather like coffee, if that would help?”

“Well, it won’t hurt. Okay. So– scriptorum. It’s been a hot minute since I’ve had a pre-exam cram session.” 

He sighed, but gestured that she should follow, sending a crystal rolling in the opposite direction, she assumed with a coffee order.

The scriptorum was twice the size of the throne room, and easily three times cleaner. 

“The goblins have no interest in history books.” He explained without even needing to be asked. 

“Here, this wall is the history of the Labyrinth and past trials.” He crossed to the wall in question, and it was… massive. 

“What about second trials? That’s pretty uncommon, right? And it’ll be both of our second time, so that should narrow down the research content a little.” 

He hummed and summoned another crystal at his fingertips, looking into it as though it weren’t showing him a wall mere feet from him. It did seem to be sliding over titles, though, until it settled on one of the dozens of unmarked books on the shelf. Still, it did seem useful– he was able to locate the specific book based on what surrounded it. 

“There would appear to be only the one tome on the subject.” He informed her, curving the crystal around his fingers until it shrank away into nothing and retrieving the book in question. 

He laid it on one of the desks, and Sarah pulled up a second chair. 

She watched as his gloved fingers flipped open the ancient looking green leather of the front cover, and exposed the title– Proffwydoliaethau'r Tanddaearol 

Sarah threw her hands up. 

“Of course. That’s completely useless to us!” 

The goblin king sighed and pulled on her shirt, tugging her down into the chair beside him. 

“Now, this I can do.” He pulled a handful of glittering dust from the same nowhere the crystal had come from, and blew it in her face. 

She spluttered, sneezed, shook it off, but as soon as she lifted her hands to touch it, there was nothing there– no grit, no powder. As if it had just dissolved. 

“What–” She started, angry, then stopped.

The title– now it read ‘Prophecies of the Underground’. 

“Hey, neat trick. But I don’t suppose you have any way to make another copy?”  

He shrugged, then lifted the book and tore it in half, offering her the back section. 

She gaped at the unexpected display of strength, then grumbled at the mistreatment of the book. “You don’t suppose that’s got anything to do with what those other kings were talking about, the whole neglect thing?”

“I doubt it; they’re not exactly gentle in their treatment of things or people either. I can have it repaired later, but I don’t know of a better way to allow us both to read now. My apologies if you find it distasteful, but, practicality insists.” 

Sarah begrudgingly took the half book, glancing down at the first page– the middle page. 

“Those who live in the Labyrinth never truly leave it, for the Labyrinth spans the entirety of the Underground, its power reaching beyond the walls that would seem to contain it. And those who would petition its King must journey from the outer wall to the center. Such a petition it open to any subject of the King of the Underground at any time. But a mortal wishing to make such a petition may do so only once, and only with the use of their right words.” 

That struck Sarah as a little sad– she’d wasted her one shot on a juvenile wish to have Toby taken away, which she’d immediately regretted. But her right words– she didn’t think there was any other situation where that would have come up. Maybe against her step mother, though she doubted that. 

“So these trials are different than a petition.” She said slowly still skimming through the words on the page. 

“They are. This is the process by which one becomes the one being petitioned.” The Goblin King was flipping through pages semi rapidly, seemingly searching for key words.

“What happens to me if we do end up being successful?” Sarah asked.

The book in her hands shuddered, then slipped free, and the Goblin King dropped his half as well, letting the two halves draw together and begin to glow in an all too familiar blue light. 

“What’s happening?” Sarah cried out. 

“You asked it a question. I think it’s attempting to answer you.” 

Indeed, the pages were fluttering frantically midair, before stilling and falling to land on its magically reassembled spine, the final page falling dramatically open. 

The Goblin King retrieved the book, lifting it back to the desk. There was only a single line of text, beautifully illuminated, right in the middle of the page.

“Only one mortal will return to the Labyrinth more than once in a single lifetime, and they will become one with the Labyrinth, and remain part of it forever.” He read. 

Sarah sat back down, hard. 

“What does that mean?” She whispered. 

The Goblin King shook his head. 

“I’m so sorry Sarah. I don’t know. It means… well, those who die here, their souls remain, and we believe they are reborn within the Labyrinth. When I said your baby brother would become one of us forever… that was what I meant.” 

“So this is, it’s what, a prophecy, it’s set in stone? And there’s never been someone else, someone besides me? I die here?” She was torn between disbelief and horror.

“It means only what it says. You mustn’t be too literal, or not literal enough. Things are not as they seem here, and quite often it’s only clear what something like this means by the time it has become true.” 

“Easy for you to say. You aren’t prophesied to die on this trip.” She muttered, regretting ever becoming involved. 

The Goblin King grasped her shoulder, gentle, offering a stilted sort of comfort. 

“It doesn’t say that you die. It doesn’t even say you don’t go home. It says ‘more than once’. Perhaps the second time you come here will not be the last.” He paused, then added, “I am sorry, though. For calling you back here. Had I known…”

A great shattering sound happened outside, and they both jumped before the King ran his hand through his hair almost sheepishly. 

“I believe our food has arrived.” 

Chapter Text

A goblin with a cart was waiting in the hall for them when the Goblin King opened the door. 

“Your Majesty.” The goblin performed a cartoonish bow, its scraggly hair sweeping the stones of the floor before it straightened, nearly toppling the cart in the process. 

“I have your drinks here, but you said no food in the library, so I put out dinner in the gallery like usual.” 

The Goblin King closed his eyes and nodded, clearly reigning in some annoyance or frustration, and Sarah wondered what the source was; everything the goblin had said seemed reasonable enough. 

“Thank you.” She told the goblin brightly. “Will you lead us there? I imagine we’ll want our drinks with our food.” 

The goblin took a step back, clearly unused to such an aggressively sunny disposition, but recovered with a quick glance at his King. 

“Of course, uh, if it please Your Majesty. This way.” 

He performed an impressive twelve point turn with the drink cart and Sarah noted that despite the crashing and rattling, nothing appeared to be leaking. 

She nudged the Goblin King with her elbow and followed the cart wielding goblin down the hall. 

She swore she heard the King heave a beleaguered sigh behind her, but when she looked back his face was perfectly composed. He looked… resigned, perhaps, and she supposed whatever was bothering him right this second, it was probably something he was very used to. An ongoing pet peeve, rather than something to do with his imminent potential demise. 

As it turned out, the Goblin King had been anxious about the decor in the gallery. 

And with good reason. 

“Is that– that’s my apartment! And my parents’ house!” 

Sarah had abandoned the food upon entry, her attention pulled to what she had first taken for paintings, then video screens, before she realized they were framed crystal slabs, attuned to different places in, she had to assume, different worlds. But the ones that caught her eye seemed to be the primary focus of the room– or at least, what was clearly the Goblin King’s chair was turned to face those.

The frames of the images were empty, not surprising given she was here, and the sun was just beginning to rise through her parents’ kitchen windows. 

After the initial shock wore off, she realized that the frames were pointed, not at a shower or at her bed, as she would have expected from a creep or a peeping tom, but at the dining table of her parents’ house and at her own kitchen counter, where she usually sat with a book while she ate. 

Looking around, she realized that the other frames, too, featured tables, some more populated than others. 

“Hoggle!” She was delighted to recognize one of the occupants. 

He’d aged too, a little older, moving a little slower, and eating what looked a bit like oatmeal. 

She turned back to an extremely embarrassed looking Goblin King. 

“What is this?” She asked. 

“The ah, the gallery.” He answered noncommittally. “I enjoy looking across the realms, when I eat.” 

Sarah turned her attention to the table, noting that while a second place setting had been laid out to the right of the chair at the head that was clearly his, none of the rest of the long table was in use. Nor, she realized, did it look like it ever had been. There were none of the signs of having been lived in that you would expect, no scuffs on the floor or wrinkles in the tablecloth, and even the seats themselves looked untouched, like the cushions had never been sat on. 

“You’re lonely.” She said, marveling at how novel that idea was. The Goblin King flinched. “That’s it, isn’t it?” 

“I am eternally surrounded by goblins.” He pointed out, and the goblins in question– the goblins laying out food and serving drinks– all froze for a moment, clearly unused to having their King’s attention on them, before jumping back to their work, now with an added fervor that spoke of their deep seated wish not to be around for this conversation. 

“Do you talk to them, though? Do you know their names?” Sarah pressed, the idea that this might be part of the trials crystallizing in her mind. 

“I… listen.” He said instead. “This is Jac, that’s Owain, Tegid who is called Teggy, and the one pouring tea all over the saucer is Lyr.” 

Lyr’s hand shook so hard that the tea missed the saucer entirely and began soaking the tablecloth. 

“Here; you know what, I think we can manage from here.” Sarah told them firmly, taking the teapot from her. 

The goblins didn’t need to be told twice and all but fled the room, looking like nothing so much as a handful of cats skittering across hardwood, though they did take care to close the doors behind them. 

“I don’t know why they fear me so.” He said quietly, taking what was all too obviously his seat. 

“No?” She asked, settling herself in next to him. “‘Let’s see how you deal with this little slice’?” Her imitation wasn’t great, even she could admit that, but that wasn’t the point. 

“You wanted a villain for your story.” He said simply, shrugging it off. 

“You got annoyed and you sent a garbage disposal on wheels after me.” 

“I suppose I have been… mercurial. From time to time.” He admitted. It seemed like it took a lot from him.

“If you talked to them more, instead of brooding and listening, they wouldn’t be so worried about you lashing out. But that’s just my take. Anyway, a problem for later, no use telling you to talk if you might lose your head.” She paused, fork in hand as a thought struck her. 

“What about that group of… fluffy wild gang weirdos? In the woods. They kept talking about helping me take off my head. Could they do that for you, so decapitation wouldn’t kill you?” 

The Goblin King looked at her as if she’d grown a second head, suggesting he let someone remove his. 

“The fireys. Letting them remove your head makes you forget your problems. And everything else. You just become one of them. I’d rather not.” 

Sarah shuddered. Her instinct to run had been a good one. She just hadn’t fully understood what they were offering. Before, the fear had been the body horror. Now, it was the loss of self.

“You know, it’s so funny being able to talk about… all of this. Everything that happened to me last time I was here. If I did this at home, they’d have me committed, treat me like I was dangerous or sick or something.” 

“Hm. It must be so difficult for you, all these experiences that no one else around you can relate to or identify with. Talking to them would no doubt make them uncomfortable, and, like you said, it would make them see you differently.” 

He was stirring sugar into his tea cup, not making eye contact, but his words were pointed. 

She bit her lip, well aware they weren’t talking just about her. 

“It is a little lonely, never having someone who you can share everything with.” 

“Never having an equal.” He corrected gently. “And feeling forever apart, even from those who could be your equals.” He glanced toward the windows to her world, and she found herself frowning. Still, he seemed to shake off the maudlin turn of the conversation easily enough. 

“At any rate. We should eat. We haven’t much time left.”

Nodding, and doing her own bit of brooding, Sarah tucked in. It was… strange. But at least there were no peaches in sight.

Chapter Text

They finished their breakfast and returned to the throne room, Sarah with a length of rope draped over her shoulder, even though it was somewhat heavier than she’d expected. She’d also managed to talk a goblin into fetching her some chalk, though her attempts with lipstick last time didn’t give her much hope. Still, they came in handy in D&D– maybe they would be helpful here, too. 

As the thirteenth hour rang out, they took their places. The Goblin King draped somewhat insolently over his throne, and Sarah standing nearby, one foot resting on the step up to his raised dais. 

It was a good pose, and one they held throughout the clock’s chiming. 

As silence fell, there was a cracking sound, and just inside the door, the women appeared. 

“King Jareth, your trial begins now.” Eiluned said, wasting no time with gloating or greeting. She reached out towards the two of them and, with a twist of her wrist, she turned, dragging them out onto a familiar low cliff, overlooking the Labyrinth. 

“Your powers will be stripped, but your chosen Champion will accompany you. If at least one of you reaches the Castle beyond the Goblin City before the clock strikes thirteen, you will retain your rank and all the titles, holdings, and power that are your birthright.” Eiluned sounded like she was reading from something, but she spoke while maintaining eye contact with one of the two of them at all times. 

The ceremony of the moment was broken when Nerys interjected. 

“When you fail, we’ll gather every subject we can fit into the Goblin City market square to watch your execution. Your Champion included. And then we’ll divide your lands up between us.” 

She smiled, and her lips curled unpleasantly. Sarah didn’t think she’d ever seen something she would describe as a blood thirsty grin before, but if anything was that, it was this. 

Eiluned looked as if she found it distasteful. 

“I submit to the tests and agree to the binding.” The Goblin King said, also sounding like he knew the script. 

“Oh no– she said ‘stripped’, not bound.” Nerys pointed out gleefully. 

At this, the Goblin King’s eyes widened, and he seemed to lose his composure. 

“That’s not-” 

“Well, don’t you worry. We’ve done this plenty of times.” Nerys held her hand out towards Eiluned expectantly, and the taller woman created what appeared to be a natural crystal out of thin air. It wasn’t a sphere like the Goblin King’s, but a jagged point of something similar to amethyst. She handed it to Nerys, who glanced at Sarah conspiratorially. 

“You may want to hold him down, or this could go badly for him.” 

“What are you–” Sarah started, but the Goblin King raised a gloved hand in her direction, silencing her and bidding her remain where she was, all in one.

He pulled open his shirt and held his necklace to the side, baring his chest to the woman who was, apparently, threatening him with some unforeseen, greater version of taking away his powers. 

“Get it over with.” He said, almost a command if not for the way his voice shook. 

Sarah watched, horrified, as Nerys shrugged, reared back, and plunged the point of the crystal toward the Goblin King’s chest– in the center of his sternum. But instead of bone or crystal breaking, it seemed to catch on something just below the skin. Blood trickled down from a fairly surface level nick, but that wasn’t the alarming part. Nerys had gone sharper, somehow, the thin veneer of softness stripped from her and the glee of the harm she was inflicting lighting up her face. Only– no, that wasn’t quite it. The glow was coming from the wound– from the Goblin King. 

Nerys pulled the crystal back, and something from within the Goblin King’s chest came with it. Something gossamer thin and shining with blue light, like a gauzy curtain made of liquid. She twisted it, like wrapping spaghetti around a fork, and Sarah felt queasy at the look of abject agony on the Goblin King’s face. He was usually fairly pale; now he looked pallid. He was grimacing, his expression a rictus mask of pain and fear. And his eyes– he was looking right at Sarah, and somehow that was the worst part. Like he thought she could comfort him. Or protect him. That was, she remembered, her job. As his Champion. 

“You’re hurting him!” She cried, stepping forward, and Nerys snorted as Eiluned took gentle hold of Sarah’s arms, keeping her from intervening. 

“This must be done, and it will be finished soon.” Eiluned murmured, for Sarah’s ears alone.

Nerys pulled the shimmering blue light back as she stepped away, the crystal seeming to absorb it as she went, until there was a visible, if not quite audible, snap. The tattered edges of where the magic should have been hanging out of the Goblin King's chest instead shimmered, fading into glitter, then nothing.

The Goblin King crumpled to the dusty ground, catching himself on his hands and knees.
He was promptly sick.
Eiluned released Sarah, allowing her to go to him, to kneel beside him, one hand on his back while she glared daggers at the women who had done this. 

"What will be done with the crystal while we face the Trials?" She demanded to know. 

"This is the power of the land, and it will return to the land, until such a time as the confirmed ruler claims it." Eiluned answered, her unflappable calm on full display as she held her hand out and accepted the crystal from Nerys, who seemed hesitant to give it up.

Eiluned turned the point of the crystal down, and, as if emptying a pitcher, the Goblin King's power flowed out and into the ground. Eiluned crouched, pressing the tip of the crystal to the dusty earth, and pressed it down until it, too, turned into a pool of liquid magic, and was absorbed. 

Nerys watched the process with greed and distaste written across her face, and Sarah stared at her until she met her eyes, making sure she knew that Sarah had seen. It didn't seem to bother her unduly, though she narrowed her eyes and glared back, the silent dislike growing between them.

Under Sarah's hand, the Goblin King heaved a broken gasp, breaking the tension of the moment. 

“The clock does not wait. Best of luck, Champion. Jareth.” Eiluned intoned, again like she had a script to follow, and then she and Nerys faded from view, leaving them alone, with a clock ticking, and the Goblin King shuddering on the ground.

Chapter Text

Sarah got him up and leaning against a nearby tree, but the second she released him he slid down the trunk to crumple at the base of it.  

He ripped his gloves off, his fingertips scrabbling at his chest, pressing into his skin like he thought if he could just dig through himself, he might find what they had taken. 

Sarah grabbed his wrists, fighting his weak attempts to brush her off. 

She remembered how strong he’d been in the library, and it only made her more afraid for him, now that she was able to pry his hands away from his chest with relative ease. 

“Stop. You have to stop!” She told him, not loud, but very insistent. 

He stilled, tilting his face up to look at her. She stifled a gasp, but only just. His eyes were unfocused and also… something was lost in them. They no longer held that subtle difference between them, the blue and near gold they’d been drained instead to a pale gray. 

“It hurts.” He whispered. 

She felt her heart break a little in that moment. 

“Where’s it hurt?” She asked, certain he didn’t mean the thin trickle of blood that was already drying on his chest. 

“It– it’s as though I’ve been flayed, or. No. Turned inside out. Empty and exposed. And I can feel the magic around us. It… burns. And I can’t touch it anymore.” 

Sarah frowned, unable to fully understand his pain, but wanting to help even so. 

“I’m so sorry. It sounded like it took you by surprise as well. I– I’m not sure how to help. But we do have to get moving.” 

The Goblin King glanced up at the clock and grimaced. 

“You’re right.” He took a deep breath and leveraged himself up, needing to use his hands to find his balance and push himself up off the ground. 

He looked so small, now, thin in a way she’d never really noticed before. He was lanky almost, his arms wrapping around himself like–

“Are you cold?”

He jerked at that, as if the word hurt him, and he forced his arms down to his sides. 

“No. No, I’m. We should get inside.” 

Frowning, she turned her attention to the wall of the Labyrinth. 

“Last time, Hoggle was out here, and he opened a gate when I asked how I got in. Is that something that just exists, or…” 

The Goblin King shook his head. 

“No, the entrance shifts, like everything else. There will likely be some form of challenge associated with it. For you– again, practically a child, the challenge was asking for help.” He smiled wanly. “Something you never did truly learn, did you?” 

Sarah bristled, then recognized the tactic for what it was: a diversion, a misdirect. He wanted her thinking about herself, rather than him. 

“I’m better at it some days than others. What about you, how did you get in last time?” She asked, holding his arm as she guided him down the hill and towards the wall. 

He quivered under her touch, and she realized he was trembling. Something else he surely didn’t want her noticing. She tried to play it off like she hadn’t. 

“My tutor ensorcelled a fairy and had her fly above, scouting an entrance for us. It looked like any other part of the wall.” 

Sarah hesitated at the idea of something else being magically forced to serve them– but that had been a tutor, not his work. Slowly, she nodded. “I ran into the wall being camouflaged as well. Maybe we should just put our hands on the wall as we walk?” She held out the rope. “Should we maybe tie ourselves together? I lost Ludo in the forest, when he was walking right behind me. I’d hate to get separated this early on.” 

The Goblin King gave her a weak approximation of a rakish smile. “Really Sarah, we’ve been together mere hours and already you’re looking to tie the knot?” 

She rolled her eyes. 

“It’s either that, or we try and scale the walls, but I don’t know that I’d be much good at it, or that you’re even up to it.” 

He didn’t seem thrilled to be reminded of the state of him. The smile dropped off his face. 

“Perhaps you could just hold onto my sleeve or something? The rope does seem a bit overkill.”

Sarah sighed but did as he’d asked. At least there was plenty of fabric for it. Grip firm on the Goblin King, she pressed the flat of her palm to the wall and began sweeping it along at shoulder height. 

He did the same, but his hand was much lower along the wall. 

“In case the doors have to be crawled through.” He answered, sensing her unspoken question. 

“Good thinking.” She was immediately distracted by movement ahead. “What’re those?” She asked, lowering her voice in case it was better they not hear her, but pointing. The creatures were almost as tall as she was, and clearly were people, but they looked almost like fruit, round and liquidy instead, with very long limbs and white fluffy hair that sat atop their heads like clouds over a mountain. 

He peered around her, then leaned back. 

“You may have met some people like them, in the pack rats’ quarter. Those two are just unencumbered. Either they gave up their hoards, never had any, or they lost them. I would bet the latter, since they’re all the way out here. A test of their own.” 

Sarah sighed. “Probably not helpful to us then– they’re still looking for a way in as well.” 

The Goblin King shrugged.

“Just as well. I’m happy not to be seen by any of my subjects, while I’m like th–” 

“Hello there!” He was interrupted by one of the pack rats waving at them. 

“Hello!” Sarah called back. The Goblin King groaned. 

“Do you know the way in?” The other shouted, and Sarah tugged her companion towards the creatures by his sleeve. He didn’t resist, but he did move slower than she would have liked. 

“We’re trying to find it ourselves. Last time I was here, I just had to ask.” 

“Last time!” The male sounding pack rat sounded shocked. “Did you wander back out?”

“Something like that.” Sarah winced as the king interjected, stepping forward and digging his elbow into her side. 

She realized he was still shaking, and swallowed. She’d forgotten what he’d said about feeling vulnerable, and how weak he had become. She’d thought his avoidance was a matter of vanity, when she started pulling him toward them. 

That had been unkind. But they were in it now. 

Sarah adjusted her grip to his arm, and gave it a gentle squeeze– part apology and part reassurance. He glanced back over at her, but it was unclear what he was thinking. His face was blank, impossible to read. She also noticed he’d put his gloves back on at some point, though she wasn’t sure when. 

But they’d closed the distance now, and were just a few feet from the locals. 

“Heck of a wrong turn.” The woman sounded sympathetic, and Sarah gave her a quick smile, hoping it would be read as gratitude. 

“How about yourselves? How did you end up here?” Sarah asked. Knowing now that they were the same sort of folks as the woman she’d encountered on her last visit, it became more obvious how incredibly young these two were. Fresh faced, not yet stooped or wrinkled. 

Sarah hadn’t realized how much life the woman’s possessions had squeezed out of her. 

“I’m Aled, and this is Carys. We’re in love.” The guy said, turning to take his partner’s hand and looking about as besotted as Sarah could imagine him looking. “But her father wouldn’t hear of us being together until I could prove I could provide her with everything she could ever want. So we decided to take off. We’re working our way back home, picking up things along the way. That’s the plan, anyway.” He looked back at the wall, then back they way they’d come. 

“We’ve been out here for hours,” Carys added. 

“And where’d you come from?” The Goblin King asked. 

“We slid down a chute, which dropped us off outside of that vulture statue over there.” The lady pointed at a large stone statue that Sarah hadn't noticed, some twenty feet away from the wall they’d been following. There was indeed a hatch in the floor, though a chute that led up instead of down sounded like exactly the sort of thing she would have stomped her foot angrily about, the last time she was here. 

The Goblin King wandered over to the hatch and peered at it, before kneeling to try and tug it open. 

“How do you get in?” He called back to them, tapping in the metal of the door with his fist, then yelped as it swung open in a way Sarah would describe as violent, smacking into his knee. That would probably bruise, she thought with a wince. As if he wasn’t battered enough already. 

“Well, knock and the door will open.” She muttered. She turned back to the others. “I think we’re going to try to go in the way you came out. But good luck with your journey, look out for doors that look like it’s just more wall, and if you run into a dwarf named Hoggle, tell him Sarah said he should help you!” 

The two of them waved as she hurried away. 

Inside of the hatch, she could see a set of rungs. “Chutes and ladders.” She quipped, and the Goblin King looked unimpressed. Sarah turned around and immediately began heading down into the dark, pausing only to look up at the Goblin King, who was still standing above, watching her. “Well? You coming?” 

“Perhaps you shouldn’t speak to everyone you see, this time.” He offered, waiting a moment before following her. 

“Why not? They were extremely helpful!” 

“Hm.” He answered. “They stole your rope.” 

Above them, the hatch clanged shut. 

Chapter Text

The rungs grew further apart as they went, and the shaft grew narrower, until Sarah was hanging to find purchase with her feet, letting go, catching her shoulders against the wall, shimmying down to grab the rung she’d stood on, and repeated the process. 

“You know what would be incredibly helpful right now?” The Goblin King asked. Then, without waiting: “Some rope.” 

Sarah groaned, then stopped, puzzling through it in her mind. 

“Hold up a second. Look, they said they slid down it and ended up out there, right?” 

“Yes?” He sounded suspicious of where this was going.

“So they had to be sliding on the wall without the rungs, and laying back, or they’d hit their heads. And that means gravity works the opposite way when you face the opposite way.” 

“Perhaps…?” 

“I’m just wondering if this is one of those, turn around backwards to walk up stairs that only go down type of deals.” 

There was a pause which seemed to stretch forever in the darkness of the narrow tunnel. 

“I can’t tell if that’s brilliant or absolute nonsense.” 

Sarah shrugged, knowing he couldn’t see it. 

“That’s Labyrinth logic, right? It’s a little of both. You have that room in your castle– doesn’t it work the same?” 

“Debatable. And there’s a lot more room to maneuver. So let me think– are you saying that, if we can manage to turn upside down, we’ll be climbing up rather than down? I don’t know that that’s any easier.” 

“I’m saying that if they could slide up, maybe we don’t need to climb– maybe we can slide down.” 

She shuffled so her butt pressed against the wall and she was standing on a rung with her hands braced on more wall. 

“I’m going to give it a go. You wait a few seconds before you follow, or if I land or something I can call up to you.”

“Quite the leap of faith, Sarah.” He quipped, but he sounded a touch uncertain.  

But she had made up her mind. She took a deep breath, pushed herself back against the wall as best as she could, and stepped off the rung of the ladder, pulling her hands up to cover the top of her head while she tucked her arms into her chest. 

The experience was like falling, she thought, though without the visual it was difficult to say how fast she was going. 

“I’m not at the bottom yet– are you with me?” She asked after a moment. 

“I’m right here. Did you let go?” 

His voice was much closer than she’d expected. 

“Yes? Did you?” 

“No. Are you just…. Laying on the wall?” 

“Um… yes?” She answered, untucking her arms and gingerly reaching out. But there were no rungs passing above her head, there was no drag against her back. Her weight was very much acting as if gravity was under her shoulder blades. 

She sat up a little and scooted. She could tell she was moving. Reassured, she rolled, pushing herself onto her stomach, then up onto her hands and knees. 

“I’m going to crawl.” She told him, beginning to move. 

“Wait, explain.” 

“I’m pointing toward what was down a minute ago, crawling. But for me, now, that’s just forward.” 

“Right.” 

She heard some shuffling and a muttered curse, and she crawled forward some to make room, before waiting for him. 

It didn’t take long for him to run headfirst into her. 

“Sorry.” He muttered. 

“That’s alright. I’m going to move now. Stay close.” 

“I’d forgotten how… authoritative you were.” 

“Bossy. You were going to call me bossy.” She returned flatly.

“I would never.” He responded, and she could hear the smile in his voice. 

It was odd, this easy sort of bickering that had fallen into place naturally between them. 

She wanted to think on that further, except that she felt a lurching, and suddenly there was only air in front of her hand. 

“Oof.” The Goblin King had run into her again. 

“I found the end of the floor.”

She felt in front of her, trying to tell if the gravity reverse rule worked to go further down. There was no way to know safely. 

So she reached up, feeling above her. Nothing– and not enough room to stand between the opening and a sudden drop off, if gravity shifted when she did it. 

“It’s just a right angle.” She told him. “I’m going to try to crown on what’s currently the ceiling, since in theory that’s back up towards ground level.” 

“That seems fairly arbitrary at this point, but by all means– your instincts haven’t failed us yet.” 

She rolled onto her back and pressed her hands and knees up to the roof, then waited. 

“No good, the gravity didn’t shift. So I guess… I’ll see if I can climb down the same way we got here.”

She shuffled forward, bent over the edge, and put her hands on the wall. The shift didn’t happen immediately, but she took a deep breath and another leap of faith. Or, more accurately, a scooch of faith. 

And shrieked as she immediately plummeted. 

“Sarah?” She heard from above, the genuine concern in the Goblin King’s voice almost as surprising her landing. 

As she bounced and swayed, from her landing point, silver light shot out around her, and she sucked in air. 

“I’m alright. I landed in a net– it’s beautiful!” 

Above her, the Goblin King groaned. 

“Sarah, be still. It’s Arianspun. I’m going to figure out how to get you out.” 

Sarah tried to roll, in spite of his instructions, and her movement sent that same silver light racing away from her. 

Only, this time she recognized the shapes. 

“Am I in a spiderweb?” She asked, whispershouting with fear. 

She’d never been fond of spiders, the bigger the worse. And whatever made this… 

“Ahhh Jareth. I was told I might be expecting you. And who is this delicious little morsel?”

The voice was smooth, predatory, female, and much much closer than Sarah would prefer. 

“Eira, is that you?” The Goblin King sounded relaxed, even flattering. “I didn’t realize your web extended this close to the edge of the maze. You’ve expanded.” 

“And you’re being rude.” She returned pointedly. 

“My name is Sarah Williams.I’m a mortal, and the Champion of the Goblin King during his Trial.” Sarah hurried to say, hoping that the old rule of humanizing yourself to your captor so they didn’t kill you would still work if the captor wasn’t human. 

“There, was that so hard?” The spider– for Sarah was certain that was what she was, spoke. “Sarah, it is a pleasure to meet you. And Jareth, your Trials? I understand now. I’ve been asked to hold you here, or kill you, whichever is easier. I had wondered what Nerys stood to gain from such a request. Distasteful.” 

Sarah licked her lips. 

“Does that mean you won’t be fulfilling that request?” 

“I suspect they’ve offered you something, in return for my imprisonment or death.” Above her, the Goblin King seemed to be rearranging himself, his voice changing as he moved into a more comfortable position. 

Sarah, on the other hand, was holding very still. She didn’t want to activate the lights, because she really didn’t want to see Eira. 

“I was told I may have safe passage, and be welcomed to build my web as widely as I please, even into Nerys’s lands. An interesting offer, to be sure.” 

“It seems a weak offer all things considered.” The Goblin King said breezily, as though none of this concerned him in the slightest. “If you kill me, or waylay me long enough that the Trial ends, Nerys and Eiluned plan to divide my lands. So you will be allowed in even less space than you are now.”

“And,” Sarah hastened to add, “They’re grabbing control by claiming he’s neglected his kingdom. So they’ll have to be careful not to do the same. Which means cleaning up around here– and I’d hate to see your beautiful web destroyed on a technicality.”

Below her there was an agitated hissing sound, and then the web moved as something huge and grey and furry stepped onto the strands, illuminating itself as it went. But Eira didn’t linger on the web, instead crawling up the wall. 

Sarah closed her eyes, happy to lose sight of her as the fear rose in her throat like bile, but she could still follow her voice. 

“Full of lies and tricks.” Eira spat, clearly closing in on the Goblin King. 

Realizing this, Sarah began to work on pulling herself free of the fine, sticky strands, lighting the cavern by the tiniest degree as she thrashed. She didn’t know what she could do to stop him from getting eaten, but she did know she wasn't accomplishing anything down here.

“I apologize. My kin do not speak as plainly as I do, but you must believe me when I say that making such a deal with them would only cause you harm. Harm which you know I do not mean you; we have had a long understanding. And I would not endanger it now.” 

He still sounded calm, polite, even earnest. 

Sarah was terrified he was about to get his head bitten off. 

“I suppose you will want to regain the surface.” Eira asked, sounding sullen. 

“Ideally, yes. Sarah, please– Eira can help you get free of the web so you don’t damage it or yourself.” He sounded every bit the King he was, transitioning smoothly from negotiating to commanding. 

“Join her for now.” Eira said, and Sarah didn’t see so much as feel as the Goblin King was– she assumed– thrown from the ledge down into the web. The web swayed and bobbed and flashed, and Sarah closed her eyes, feeling a little sick from the motion. “I will make a lift for you, and then I must climb up to loop it at the top. I will return and then I want you out before you chase off any others who may venture this way.” 

“We’d be grateful for the help, and happy to let you get back to your day Eira.” The Goblin King answered, slightly winded, from beside Sarah. 

The sound of skittering up a nearby wall faded, and Sarah lay in the dark for some moments, just letting her heart rate slow back down. 

“Are you alright, Sarah?” The Goblin King asked. 

“I’ll be better once we’re out of here.” Sarah whispered. 

“You’ve done very well so far.” 

It was strange how comforting those words felt, and how easily they seemed to come from him. 

“Are you just being what I need you to be again? A villain before, complimentary now?” She asked. 

In the swaying light of the web, she could see him frown. 

“I did mean it.” He said, sounding hurt. “But if you’re asking can I tell what you need of me– not magically. I don’t have that, at the moment.” 

She realized, based on the light, that his shaking had faded. But he sounded just as raw, just as hurt, when he spoke of it. 

“Right. Sorry.” She tried not to sound short tempered, but the queasiness returned as Eira did. 

“Here we are.” The Spider said, and Sarah felt as she was plucked from one web and placed in another, and then the Goblin King joined her. Eira pulled, and the smaller net they were in gathered from around them and closed over their heads. 

Sarah found herself hyperventilating, and the Goblin King took hold of her shoulders, pulling himself up and pulling her into his chest. 

“There there, it’s alright Sarah. We’ll be back in the sunlight shortly.” 

Eira clicked, and Sarah, humiliated, felt like she was being laughed at. 

“Your Champion is a fascinating little thing. Not afraid of you, but scared of the dark. Such interesting mortals are a rarity.” She commented. 

The Goblin King didn’t answer, instead smoothing his hand over the back of Sarah’s head, breathing loudly and obviously as they swung and rose up, the spider climbing and pulling them her towards the surface. 

“Thanks, I think.” Sarah said. She wasn’t exactly clear which of the two of them she was speaking to. 

But the chittering laughter came back, and she supposed that it didn’t matter much. 

Chapter Text

At the top of the climb, Eira disconnected the web from the long strand. 

“I can put you out onto the surface, but you’ll have to get yourselves out. The light pains me.” She sounded apologetic, and before Sarah or the Goblin King could comment further, a trap door was opened, they found themselves unceremoniously chucked out of it, and the door slammed closed behind them. 

They lay, tangled together and encased in cobweb that seemed less magical in the daylight. 

In fact, it seemed mostly just sticky and gross. 

“Eugh.” Sarah reached up to push the bag off her head, grimacing as it touched her hair, and stuck to her hands when she pushed at it. 

“It’s no use Sarah. Here, I’ve a knife in my boot. We can cut it away, maybe.” 

“Maybe?” She asked, shriller than she’d like. 

“Arianspun is strong, but in the sun it turns gummy, then brittle. If we can’t cut it, we just have to let it dry out a bit, and we’ll be able to break it.” 

The bootknife was tiny, less than the length of Sarah’s palm, and they took turns sawing at a single strand of the web, but he was right. They were getting nowhere. And the sun was only just rising, not yet warm enough to have a strong effect on the web. So they gave up, for now. There’d been an awful lot of excitement, for two people who hadn’t had a night’s sleep yet.

“This stuff is tough. I wish we would have asked her about replacing my rope.” Sarah joked, leaning back and trying to create some space between the two of them, from where the net was pushing them together.

“You and your efforts to make friends.”  He was sitting, eyes half lidded. “I suppose that may work in our favor after all, given it sounds like Nerys is doing the same.”

“You can rest, if you like. I’ll keep an eye out.” Sarah offered. 

“If we can’t get out, we should feel reasonably certain that nothing else will be able to get in. I wouldn’t worry too much about us being attacked while we’re in here.”  

She had to concede he had a point. And, looking around them, there didn’t seem to be much in the way of movement. Just a bunch of stone walls. They were in a square, with lots of routes out from here, but that seemed like a problem for some future version of themselves.

“What do you say? Powernap? I can set an alarm for an hour from now.” Her watch still seemed to hold the time, even if it was the regular old 12 hour variety. 

“Are you certain? You don’t mind if I rest as well?” He sounded surprised, and Sarah’s brow furrowed. 

“You’re the one who seems worse for the wear, Your Majesty. And I offered.” 

“Jareth. Please, my name is Jareth. If you’re going to be sleeping with the enemy, you may as well use my name.” 

Sarah felt her lips twisting into something akin to a smile. 

“Jareth, then. Are you the enemy?” She tilted her head. “I was under the impression we were on the same team, right now.” 

Jareth was in the process of stretching out, and he reminded her of a cat, the way he curled up and the way he opened a single eye to regard her as she spoke. 

“I had rather thought so myself, but you seemed to feel otherwise, in the web.” He sounded exhausted. “I’m not trying to manipulate you. Only to understand.” 

Sarah moved onto her side, propping her head up to be able to meet his lazy one eyed glare. 

“You did kidnap me from my home, again. And you’re sending me through the Labyrinth, again. This time with a prophecy that makes it sound like I’m not going to make it out of here alive. I don’t think any of that is necessarily your fault, exactly. But I also don’t know you very well. This could all be some kind of elaborate scheme.” 

“So you are willing to risk your life to save mine– but you do not trust me.” His lips curled up at the sides. “Eira was right– you are a fascinating, curious creature.”

“I suppose neither of us is particularly straight forward." 

“Hmm.” He non-answered, his other eye falling closed. 

That was fine with Sarah. The day prior and the time in the Labyrinth so far were catching up to her, terror and goblin coffee or no. 

She let herself get comfortable, and drifted off… 

o0o

When her alarm sounded, Sarah sat up. 

Through the web, she could instantly tell that they were no longer where they’d fallen asleep. 

They weren’t back out at the entrance, thank goodness, but she didn’t actually know where they were; it was somewhere she hadn’t seen last time. 

“Your Majesty.” Sarah said, then she kicked his boot. “Jareth, wake up.”

“Mmh?” He grumbled, and that was enough for her– at least he was working on it. 

She turned to press her face to the now crisp webbing. 

“Someone moved us to a cage.” 

And that was what it was. It was shaped like a bell, and the bars were draped over with what looked like chicken wire. Inside, there were birds– not a small number of birds. A flock, on bars, in nests that had been built onto the fence, some in flight, some in bird baths outside of the spider net… and they all looked strangely metallic.

“Jareth, I think we’re locked in a bird cage full of robot birds.” 

Jareth roused himself and looked out, before swearing. 

“Damn. We’re in Rhiannon’s garden. That bloody birdsong must have kept us out long enough for our captors to move us here.”

“Where’s here? Who’s Rhiannon?” It should have been heartening that Jareth knew something about this place, for a change, but Sarah just found herself annoyed by her own lack of understanding. 

“I’m afraid this will be a challenge that you’ll have to do the heavy lifting on.” Jareth responded, looking out of the net. 

“Rhiannon isn’t around any longer, or at least, she isn’t around here. But her gardens and her birds are. And they are wrought of iron. Which means I can’t touch them without being burned.” 

Sarah frowned. 

“Iron burns you? Are you some kind of fairy? I thought those were little and bitey.” 

Jareth turned to look at her, surprised. 

“My sisters and I are high fae, of the Seelie court. I apologize, I thought you knew.” 

“Your… sisters? Not Nerys and Eiluned?” He’d referred to Nerys as kin to Eira, but Sarah thought he meant it as a sort of generalization… humankind, sort of thing. 

“I really have underprepared you.” He said mournfully. “Yes, the reason they have any claim to my lands is because it was bestowed upon me by my family. I think it was meant as a cruel joke at the time, although the Labyrinth’s worth has been made more clear as the centuries progressed.” 

Sarah hated every bit of that, and didn’t even begin to know how to address it. 

“I can’t believe your sisters would do all of this to you. Your family sucks.” 

“A few years ago, you would have insisted this was unfair. I’m glad to see you’ve outgrown that particular phrase.” 

“Yeah, fairness seems to factor in incredibly rarely. So– any idea what this challenge is about?” 

Peering out of the net again, Jareth shook his head. 

“I assume I would be attacked as soon as I left the safety of the net. You, I’m not sure.” 

“I’d be happy to instruct you.” Came a man’s voice, and Sarah shifted around in the limited space to better face him. 

This looked to be a middle aged amphibian form of goblin, or something goblinoid at least. 

“Hi, nice to meet you. I’m Sarah, the Goblin King’s Champion. What’s your name?” 

It didn’t hurt to try and get off on the right foot with this guy.

“I am Dafyd, the aviarist. I have been instructed not to release you from the aviary until you have gathered all of the feathers within it and presented them in the sack, which you will find on the table.” 

Sarah found her eyes drawn to the ground, which was indeed littered with feathers, all of which seemed to be made of the same iron that Jareth couldn’t touch. 

But at least it was light work, even if it was a bit tedious. 

“Alright, thank you!” She tried to keep her tone light and grateful– the patented customer service voice. “Are there any other tools available for the job?”

“Alas, I am forbidden from providing any further help.” The guy responded. 

“And whose instructions are you following, Dafyd?” Jareth asked, his tone contrastingly icy. Sarah didn’t fully understand why, until his follow up question: “Whom is it you serve, if not the King of your realm?”

Immediately, Dafyd’s posture shifted. He hunched over, withdrew into himself. Sarah would almost say he withered. 

“They have my daughter, Your Majesty. I can say no more.” 

Sarah watched Jareth’s eyes narrow. 

“I cannot help you while I am on my Trials, but if ever your daughter is in danger, you may wish her away to me and I will safe guard her until you come. You have my promise, as your King.” 

Dafyd bowed quickly. 

“I hope you may remain King for a long time to come, your Majesty. But I cannot help you now, in case you do not. I accept any punishment that you may bring upon me later, in response. Only please do not blame the rest of my family.” 

Sarah put a hand on Jareth’s arm. 

“It’s alright Dafyd. We understand. You have to do whatever you can to keep your family safe.” 

Jareth looked surprised, but didn’t contradict her. 

“Jareth, can I have your knife? I’m going to cut out a bit of the floor– that way we can set the net back down and you’ll still be protected once I’m out.” 

“That’s very thoughtful, but the presence of iron is enough to sap my strength somewhat. I will be… even more useless than I currently am.” Still, he returned the knife to her, and shifted to give her room.

“Now, none of that. Let me just get to work on this and… if you can, try and rest. You need it.” 

The webbing had grown very fragile, such that it crumbled like hardened sugar when Sarah tried to cut it– more crushing it than anything. Once she discovered that, she made better time with her heel than with the knife, until there was a hole large enough for her to slide out of. 

“Alright. You go to that side, I’m going to lift this one.” 

Jareth complied, a sure sign that he hadn’t exaggerated the effects of this place on him. 

She made quick work of freeing herself and then lowering the netting back down, so Jareth would have at least that thin barrier between he and the birds. 

She stood still, holding her breath, expecting the birds to begin immediately divebombing her. When they didn’t, she gave herself a shake, picked up the sack, and got to work.

Chapter Text

Sarah had known that the process of picking up all of the feathers would be tedious, but she’d expected the game here to be one of wasting time, trying to run out their clock. 

She hadn’t counted on how very delicate the feathery bits of the feathers would be– and how each would stick into her skin and break off there with the slightest of jarring. 

The only safe place to grip was the smooth end of the shaft, but with how they were scattered, that wasn’t always possible. 

She tried wrapping the bag around her hands, but it didn’t make much difference; the needle thin bits of iron pierced right through the bag’s linen. 

Soon, her hands were swelling from the bits of embedded iron, and she was doing her best to bite back the sounds of discomfort. 

It was all tiny little pricks, after all– and at least she wasn’t being poisoned by them the way Jareth would have been. Still, she did have to pause, multiple times, to tug the slivers of iron out with her nails or teeth, just so that she could keep going. 

At one point, she missed a splinter in her hand, and reached up to push hair off of her face, leading to a long shallow scratch that bled into her eye. She wiped it away with the sleeve of her shirt, careful not to risk any damage. 

The birds shuffled and chirped, but Sarah ignored them, once it became clear they didn’t care that she was there. 

Her watch showed that it had been almost an hour, and Jareth had been suspiciously quiet for most of it, having fallen asleep and stayed that way. 

He was worse off than he seemed. 

Once she’d systematically scoured the entire floor, checking and double checking for feathers, she checked over the plants. 

Satisfied that her work was complete, she roused Jareth, kicking a small hole in the netting that she could reach through to shake him awake. 

He groaned, but sat up. 

“I think I’m done. Let me talk to Dafyd, but be ready to get moving.”

She lifted the bag and approached to where Dafyd was waiting, twisting his hands together and refusing to meet her eye. 

“I have gathered all of the feathers. How do I present them?” 

“I will summon the judge for this trial. She… has my daughter. Please…” He trailed off, choking, and Sarah wondered what kind of magic kept him from speaking. 

Jareth climbed gingerly out from under the net, keeping his eyes on the birds, but they seemed to be content ignoring him the same way they’d ignored Sarah while she worked. 

Dafyd pulled a crystal from his robe and lifted it above his head, shattering it on the floor between himself and the cage. 

From the fragments, a flare of light formed, and stepping out of that light was, to no one’s surprise, Nerys and Eilumed. 

With them was a small girl who was obviously Dafyd’s daughter. As soon as she saw him, she looked up at Eiluned, who was holding her hand. Eiluned smiled, the expression disarmingly sharp, but she released the girl, letting her go to her father, who picked her up and didn’t even hesitate, bundling her off and away down one of the leafy halls of the garden’s maze. 

Sarah decided it was best to pull the attention back to herself. 

“I present to you the bag containing all of the feathers from the floor of the aviary.” 

She dropped it, the clanking sound of the feathers gentled by the fabric, but not muted. 

Nerys arched a brow, stepping forward, and craned her face upwards. 

Sarah followed her glance, up to the birds. 

“I didn’t say  all the feathers on the floor. I said ‘all the feathers in the atrium.’ And what are those, do you suppose?” She asked, gesturing at them. 

Sarah looked back at her, horrified by the dawning understanding. 

“Those are birds– living creatures. Surely you don’t intend for me to pluck them?” 

“Well, you could kill them first. It would be the merciful thing to do– though I suppose if you leave them alive, the feathers will probably grow back, eventually. Maybe.” 

“We will not.” Jareth spoke up, firm on this. “Not for you, not knowing the punishment that will await from Rhiannon if we did. And we will not harm my subjects– those I swore an oath to protect. I may not have the power of this land, but I still bear the responsibility for it, so long as I yet live.” 

“Nerys, this was not part of our discussions.” Eiluned warned. “Nor is it allowed within the laws of the trials. You cannot require him to break his oaths to the land in the process of renewing them.”

Nerys hissed lowly at her sister, wordless rage causing her face to shimmer, to almost ripple as again the sharper version of her form peeked through her facade. 

“He will fail of his own doing or not at all. Let them out.” Eiluned commanded, and Nerys’s eyes widened. 

“You dare–” She spat, then, without finishing what she was saying, she threw a hand toward the cage, creating a hinged door directly in front of Jareth and Sarah, which swung open. 

Sarah stepped out and immediately closed the distance, slapping Nerys across the face with a hand full of iron slivers. 

Nerys cried out, raising her own hand to her face.Beneath her fingers, Sarah saw dark lines radiating out– no doubt she had transferred some of the iron intended for Jareth to his sister instead.

“Life may not be fair, but tests are meant to be.” Sarah told her coldly. “And I’m only as bound to your laws as I choose to be. Consider that, the next time you try to bend the rules.” 

Nerys snarled. 

“Time to go and lick your wounds, sister.” Eiluned sounded, for the first time that Sarah had heard, amused.

Eiluned gathered a crystal around her fingertips, creating a similar globe of energy around the two of them. Once enclosed, they winked out of view. 

“That,” Jareth said mildly as he swung the cage door shut, “Was very gratifying. Thank you for that.” 

Sarah showed him her palm, sprinkled through with iron feather slivers, and now bloody from sliding them across his sister’s face. 

“Maybe I ought to take a couple of those feathers with us.” 

Jareth’s eyes were fixed to her hand, and he looked paler than usual.  

“I would really rather you didn’t.”

Chapter Text

Sarah held her hands out, while Jareth did his best to remove the slivers of iron with the blade of his knife and his gloved thumb. 

“Can I ask…” She started, then stopped, not sure how to broach the subject. 

“The gloves?” He guessed, not raising his eyes from his task. 

“Yes.” She breathed, relieved that she didn’t have to try and find the least awkward version of what she wanted to know. 

“I am sensitive to magicks, even at the best of times. I can… learn too much about someone, by touching them ungloved. It’s easier, less intrusive, just to wear them. And now– the Labyrinth is a place of incredibly focused power. I feel it too much as is.” 

Sarah bit her lip, watching him work. 

From this close, it was easier to see how exhausted he was. Even after he’d had some time to rest, he looked like a poorly kept plant. Like he was wilting. 

She wondered how much of that was the lack of magic– if he needed it, like water or sunlight. 

At this distance, he looked human, in a way he often didn’t. The ethereal airs about him were gone, replaced with bruises and dark circles under his perfectly normal eyes. He was still beautiful, but knowing what he looked like at the height of his power, she could tell that something was missing, and it made her… miss it. 

“Do humans have magic?” She asked, grasping at the first line of thought that led her away from the wistful longing she felt for the Goblin King. “And the iron… being this close to me, it’s not hurting you, is it?” 

“Iron kills magic. It… deadens it. I don’t know how it would affect me at present, nor do I want to find out. As for you, and other humans–” For the first time, he paused, his eyes flicking upwards to meet hers. “Your people spent the better part of three centuries chasing down and stomping out any whispers of magic they could find. But they failed. It’s in shadows, but it is there. Small, subtle magicks, usually. You, though… they’ve blossomed in you since you last were here. I wonder if you took some of the Labyrinth’s magic home with you, somehow.” 

Sarah glanced at her hand, held gently in his own. 

“Could it be your window into my kitchen, letting the magic in?” 

He looked startled at that, surprised at the prospect. 

“I really hadn’t considered it had anything to do with me.” He spoke slowly, and she could tell he was pretending to concentrate on her hands again, but the tips of his ear had turned red.

“Maybe it doesn’t. I’ve spoken to my friends here via my mirror periodically, so yours isn’t the only window into this place.” 

He glanced back at her, this time less surprised. 

“You do realize that most people cannot contact the Underground once they leave here?”

The edges of a wry smile pulled at his lips. 

“If you’ve been doing that the whole time, it wasn’t a cumulative effect at all– it may have awakened here, but that’s probably been with you your entire life.” 

Sarah winced as a particularly deeply embedded piece of iron pulled free of her hand. 

“Is the iron going to make it so I can’t anymore?” 

Jareth paused, didn’t meet her eye, then said, firmly, “No.” 

He redoubled his efforts, and she jerked her hand back, surprised at the fervor. 

He hurried to apologize, pressing his hands gently around hers. 

“I’m sorry. I ah– I don’t want that for you. But we’re nearly finished now, at least from what I can see.” 

She nodded.

“Thanks. We should probably avoid me touching you as much as possible, though, just to be safe.” He looked up at her, searching her face, and she was quick to add, “I saw what it did to Nerys’s face.” She didn’t want him to think she objected to his touch, not when he was putting all of this effort into helping her. 

Jareth’s wry smile returned. 

“I hadn’t realized it was more than just a slap when you did it– but she is no doubt having a much worse day because of you. For her, at her full power, each point of contact will act like a burn, and each puncture like a venom. I don’t doubt her vanity will force her to sort it out before she comes back, so you’ve likely bought us a good deal of time without her interference.” 

He tucked his knife away and checked his work, turning her hands over in his own in search of any additional barbs he may have missed. 

“We should put that time to good use, then.” She told him. “How are you feeling after that little rest?” 

“Somewhat better.” It sounded like an admission, or an apology. “I’m still on uneven footing with the loss of that part of me, but… at least I feel more energetic than before. Though how much of that is just you giving my sister her comeuppance, I couldn’t say.” 

“Well, either way, I’m glad to hear it. Now, which way should we go?” 

Jareth looked up at the sun. 

“It must be around midmorning, so I would say that the castle is–” He rotated slowly on the spot, then pointed towards one set of hedges. 

“Seems as good a direction as any. Let’s keep an eye out for something we can climb, just to catch our bearings.” 

“Sure,” He agreed easily, though with a secretive little smile that she assumed meant he found the suggestion ridiculous. 

She wasn’t going to pick a fight about it, though. Not with her heartbeat pulsing in her palms, and a ticking clock counting down to his– or her– death.

Chapter Text

The hedge maze led them out of the garden and onto a path of cobbled stones, which transitioned from leafy walls to bricks. 

As Sarah rounded a corner, she could see that the path narrowed, leading up to a statue of what appeared to be a mermaid, blindfolded and with a single finger raised to her lips. 

“Do we need to be quiet here?” She asked, and Jareth, following behind her, turned the corner and stopped in his tracks. 

“I know this place.” He said flatly, but not bothering to whisper as she had. “We should find a different way.” 

He turned and began walking back the way they had come, and Sarah trailed behind, only to find that the path had been replaced with a dead end. 

“What’s wrong with it?” She asked, gesturing back towards the statue. 

“The siren’s cave is very… violating.” He answered shortly. “It’s physically unpleasant. You’ll be stopped from speaking, and we’ll be forced into one another’s minds, forced to solve some sort of riddle or puzzle, and forced to communicate via thought.” 

“Oh. Well, that doesn’t sound so bad. Unless you think I can’t handle what your thoughts sound like.” 

His face twisted like he’d bitten a lemon. 

“It’s better to go in together than alone, to be sure– otherwise you just hear everyone’s thoughts about you, and it’s overwhelming. But. I would rather not, just the same.” 

“Well, I don’t think we have much of a choice. The Labyrinth led us here, I’m sure that means this is one of those Trials we’re supposed to be tackling.One it picked, instead of your sisters.” 

Sarah put her hands on her hips. 

“So, what do you know about the Siren’s cave?” 

“I’ve never been myself, but I have watched challengers attempt it. Any who enter are prevented from speaking– the means varies, but it can be unpleasant; I have seen men lose their tongues before. It comes back after, but…” He trailed off. “The man I saw go in on his own, he was driven insane, started babbling to voices only he could hear. He crawled out the way he’d entered. The three I saw who came in together, they were muted in their own ways, but they had to communicate in one another’s minds, and they only were able to move forward once they had… unveiled themselves to one another. Shared secrets. Traded truths.” 

He described the experience as if it was a harrowing one. 

“Well, I would rather keep my tongue, but at least if I know it’s reversible, I probably won’t panic as much. And… I don’t know, I feel like I’m an open book.” 

“I am a centuries old tome bound in unidentifiable leather and chained shut. No one deserves to be exposed to those pages, least of all you.” 

Sarah narrowed her eyes. 

“Well, maybe you should have considered that before you made me your Champion. But we’re in this now. You’re good at making people forget, right? That was what you tried to do to me over and over last time. If there’s anything so awful as all that, you have my permission to take those memories away once you get your powers back.” 

He looked pained at that, and the waves of self loathing and self pity that all but radiated from him were unbearable. 

Sarah threw her hands up. 

“Well, look, I’m going in there, and moving forward. You can come with me or stay here, but one of us has to make it to the castle before time runs out.” 

With that, she turned back and approached the statue. 

“Sarah, wait!” Jareth followed quickly, catching up to her with ease. 

Mostly because she’d stopped to give him a chance. 

“I shouldn’t touch you,” She reminded him, “in case of iron. But you should hold on to me.”

Ignoring the advice, he reached for her hand, and she stepped into the cave. 

Inside, it was dark. She could tell it was wet– humid. And she could hear the sound of water lapping against stone, and echoing off the ceiling. 

It took her eyes a moment to adjust. 

This was a mistake.

Jareth’s voice in her mind was softer than she would have expected, a low murmur, the feeling like lips brushing against her ear. 

It made her shiver, goosebumps raising on her arms, and she opened her mouth to say something, only to find her throat in blazing agony at the attempt. She choked, then coughed. 

Jareth came around her, helping to stand her back up and brushing her hair away from her neck, his fingers ghosting along a new scar down the length of her throat. 

I think your vocal cords have been severed. His mind voice conveyed his horror more plainly than usual, but the worry on his face was clear as ever. 

Your lips!  Sarah cried out, and he winced. Sorry. Too loud. Sorry!  She took a deep breath, quieting her thoughts. 

He reached up, feeling at his mouth, and she watched him realize that his mouth had been sewn shut. 

This will pass. Shall we find the puzzle? The sooner we solve it, the sooner we can leave. 

She nodded, and began casting around the cave in search of writing or moving parts, anything that looked like it could be part of a trial. 

She saw Jareth doing the same. 

Can you hear me when we’re further apart?

Clear as if you were beside me. 

Behind them, the water stopped its serene lapping, and began to churn as something emerged from the depths of the pool.

Chapter Text

Sarah found Jareth beside her, having hurried to join her before the siren surfaced. 

Clear your mind and do not think anything that she might use against you. He instructed. 

The siren, for that was, of course, who lived in the Siren’s cave, was hauntingly beautiful. Sarah’s first impression was of an altogether alien beauty, like a paper doll made real. 

Thank you, you’re very kind.

The siren’s voice in her mind was soft and melodic, and suddenly Sarah understood why sailors would drown themselves in the old stories. 

Her psychic laughter rang at that, tinkling bells and cresting waves. 

I would never ask that of you. 

What would you ask of us, siren? 

Jareth was using his commanding voice, his King voice. 

He turned to look at Sarah. 

Every voice is my King voice; I am King.

His thoughts were sharp, and Sarah frowned. 

Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend. 

That is what I will ask of you! The siren sounded delighted, as if she had only just decided. Tell one another what you think of the other one, and of yourselves. When your ideas of one another align, I will clear your path. 

Jareth was horrified. Sarah knew, because she could feel it.

She raised an eyebrow at him, stifling the thoughts that had not yet formed into words.

Siren, may I ask– what are you called? Sarah addressed the other woman, instead. 

The siren looked startled. 

My name is Gwenhidth. Why do you ask?

Because I got the sense few do. Sarah returned, firmly. And is it you who determines the form of muteness that each person gets here?

No. That is the magic of this cave. I was mute already when I arrived, so it does not bother me. But I apologize for the way it has forced you to use my means of communication. 

No need to apologize, if you have no say in it. For the challenge: is there a trick to it? Do you have advice for meeting the requirement? 

Sarah, please. Jareth seemed to be ready to give up, to walk out. Sarah stopped him, her touch gentle in case any iron lingered in her fingers. 

Honesty. The word dripped from Gwenhidth’s mind like a stalactite dripping into the pool.

Right. Sarah thought, projecting confidence she didn’t truly feel. I’ll go first then.

She pulled Jareth’s sleeve, steering him so that she was looking him in the face.

You are the Goblin King. Aloof and sinister and threatening and seductive. You watch and listen and respond and react. You are burdened by what’s expected of you. 

She pictured him, as she’d first known him. His face pinched, though he tried to smooth it.

Still the villain. Came his thought, but Sarah shook her head.

You’re also Jareth. Lonely and afraid, resilient and not too proud to try. You have a surprising gentle streak, wanting to keep me from harm, wanting what’s best for your subjects. You’re fickle and changeable, temperamental. You’re also reliable. A good person, I think. And… I do trust you.  

Jareth started out looking crestfallen, but as she continued, he tilted his head, absorbing the mental images, letting her memories wash over him. 

He looked pensive. 

Go on. She urged. What about me? 

You… Jareth all but mentally mumbled the word, and Sarah felt her stomach sinking at the dread he psychically shared along with it. 

A pulse of fear shot through her, along with the sudden thought, 

Maybe I don’t want to know. 

Jareth grabbed her hand, squeezing it.

You were a petulant, naive, demanding child when we first met. Your sense of the world was a child’s two dimensional black and white. Fair and unfair, heroine and villain. You cast us as opposed, and would not budge on that, no matter how I tried to tempt you to stray. Even then I knew you had come here too soon, that your right words had been given to you too early. Sabotage, I thought then. Now I think you were just too eager, too curious, to let fate take its time. I am… impressed. You’ve grown into a resourceful woman, kind, generous, curious still, but with a confidence you lacked. In time, that confidence will age into a grace that will leave the stars jealous. But now… I am happy to have gotten to know you, as you are now. 

Sarah smiled at him, and he tried to smile back, but the expression pained him as it tugged at the stitches through his lips. 

Now tell the other how they are wrong. Gwenhidth instructed, watching with wide eyes, unwilling to miss any of the conversation. She was lonely too, Sarah realized. And this promised to be the sort of relationship she especially enjoyed.  

You make me sound special. Sarah said, aware that her mental voice sounded plaintive. You think I’m confident. I’m not. I hide all of my self doubt behind that loud, boisterous sort of confidence that makes people know something is off about me. I’m socially awkward, a mediocre student turned mediocre worker. Honestly, the only thing special about me is my connection to this place, and that’s always been the case. 

And then, quieter, because she didn’t intend to share it, but her thoughts came unbidden: 

Maybe it’s fitting that I die here. 

He squeezed her hand again. 

We aren’t going to allow that to happen to you. 

She smiled. 

Is that the royal We? 

Jareth shut his eyes, nostrils flaring as he wrestled with something. 

I am a coward. I am too gentle for my family’s liking, and too strict, too cruel for the liking of the challengers and subjects I am bound to serve. I have never been suitable for the role of Kingship, and if there was a way to abdicate and save myself, I would probably take it. 

He opened his eyes. 

Everything that could make a human think ill of me, I have done. Murder, lies, greed, lust, all of it. I have been… unhappy. For a very long time. And I have made others miserable because of it. The ways you see me, proud, aloof, resilient– it’s all a facade. 

I am scared. I ache, with a constance that I would have hoped would fade by now, but it is always in the front of my mind. I wish there was another world for me, the way the Underground is for you. Even you, whom I… whom I love, I am jealous of. Sometimes I rage at you, in your absence, angry at having been beaten, furious at having been left alone again. Hurt at not being one of those invited to contact you after you escaped. I am a wretched thing. And I am going to make you forget any of this, if we live. I know the heroes in your stories would not, but I am not them, no matter how I may pretend to be. I know that makes me to villain I don’t want to be, but I don’t think I could live knowing you know all of this.

Sarah frowned, then shot a glance at Gwenhidth, trying to tell if Jareth wiping her mind would invalidate their efforts here. 

Gwenhidth shrugged her shoulders. 

I cannot control what happens beyond this place. But Sarah, the King of the Goblins has fallen in love with you. And yet you do not react. 

Oh. Sarah turned back to him, realizing he did look rather wretched. He flinched, and she grimaced, thought quickly, and pulled him into a hug. 

I’ve known since before I came the first time. It was part of the story I told Toby, part of the belief that brought me here. I like the idea of being loved but… I don’t know what it is to be in love. 

That, love, it always felt like magic. Magic that doesn’t belong in the world I live in. 

It belongs here, I think. I think I’ve always known that love wasn’t part of the real world. It’s part of fairytales.  

It wasn’t an answer in kind. They both knew that, and Sarah pushed the emotions she felt– fondness, hope, confusion, uncertainty, she shared all of that with him. 

Jareth, what is it you want of Sarah? The siren prompted, and Jareth pulled away from the embrace to look sharply at her. 

I do not want to scare her, I do not want to drive her away. He was pleading now. 

I’ll be fine. We’re in this together, alright? We are getting out of here together or not at all, and… I already told you, if you need to, you can remove these memories, make me forget. 

Sarah was feeling… oddly calm, about all of this. Accepting. 

She tried to share some of that with him. 

He ducked his head, not meeting her eye, and the way of possessiveness that came from him was strong, surprising. Overwhelming. Sarah took a step back, without meaning to. 

I want you, all of you. Forever. I want to keep you here, crown you, seat you beside me on a throne of your own. I want to rule you, serve you. I want to give you everything you want, and I want to take everything from you. I want to be everything you need. I want you to never need anything. I want–

Graphic images, Sarah undressed, Sarah writhing beneath him, Sarah’s body beneath his hands… 

Sarah gasped, the sharpness hurting her throat. 

She felt his want, felt it echoing through her and drawing forth an answering force of her own. 

She was a grown woman, she had toys, it wasn’t that she’d never been turned on before. But this– 

Sarah, what is it you want of the Goblin King? Gwenhidth had clasped her hands under her chin, and Sarah was reminded of a bored housewife, watching her soaps. It was not a kind comparison, and Gwenhidth shrank from her gaze. 

I don’t fully know.  Sarah answered. That was true, honest. Right now, I want to hear his voice again. To keep him safe, to finish these trials and save him from being put to death. Beyond that… maybe that. 

The sexual imagery echoed back through her, and Sarah could feel the heat growing in her face, and elsewhere. 

But I also want… She sent images, quickly imagined, of the two of them curled up, leaning on one another and reading in silence. Walking hand in hand around the little lake near her childhood home. Waking up together on a rainy morning. Decorating a Christmas tree. 

All human things, she realized. She tried to imagine what the equivalent was here, the mundane of the fantasy, and she couldn’t. 

When I think of wanting you, it’s easier to think of you on Earth than here. I do want this world, I wish I could stay, but…  I don’t really belong here, do I? 

You do. He was quick to assure her. You always have belonged here. More than you ever belonged where you were born. 

It seems what one knows, the other doubts. Gwenhidth mused. I don’t know that you will align that way; the gulf is too great. Instead, I would ask one thing of you: Tell the other something you have never told another soul. 

Jareth swallowed, closed his eyes, then shuddered. 

I was sent to the Labyrinth, given this post as punishment. For being too soft, and for my father having no other plans for me when he died. That… wasn’t true. Father intended to make me his primary heir, to give me his entire court. I knew my sisters would kill me rather than allow that to happen. So I… I destroyed his will. And I killed him. 

The idea of a much younger Jareth realizing that his father was, intentionally or not, signing a death sentence… it was horrible. His solution for it couldn’t have been easy, either. No matter how he felt about his dad. 

You did what you had to to survive. I don’t think I could have done the same, if I had to. 

Patricide, regicide– I’ve never heard anything quite so thrilling! The Siren seemed beside herself. Sarah shot her another glare. 

I’ll remind you that I am still the King, and should I continue to be, you would be well advised to keep such knowledge to yourself. Unless you want this part of the Labyrinth to cease to exist. Or those memories to. Jareth was equally unamused by Gwenhidth’s entertainment. 

Sarah knew she should pull attention, before their efforts here were laid to waste by antagonizing the mistress of this trial. 

I think Jareth at least knows the worst thing I’ve ever done. Wishing Toby away– I carry that guilt with me constantly. Every time I have tried to run away from my problems, it welled back up. But… you know that. So. Something I have never told anyone else… 

Sarah thought, wracking her brain for something, something that was equal to Jareth’s confessions in this place. 

I don’t think I’ve done anything worthy of your confession. I’m just not that interesting. I keep my head down. I play it safe. I… I’m really very boring. 

Something I haven’t told anyone else?

I haven’t ever told a single soul on Earth about my time here. I would be too afraid to be called insane, or to be laughed at. I’d be too afraid they would decide I was making it up, and I’d be too afraid I might start to believe that. And then I wouldn’t be able to see you, or any of my friends, ever again. 

That which you feel makes you special, makes you worthwhile, you have spent your entire life hiding. I would say that qualifies. Gwenhidth nodded. 

You have a better knowledge of one another now. You’re welcome. Now then, follow me. 

She parted the waters and stood, her tail turning into scaled, webbed legs. She strode forward to a grate in the floor, which she pulled open to reveal a ladder that led down to a small boat, on a river, in what looked like a swamp. 

Best of luck on your trials, your majesty. Long may you reign.

Chapter Text

The swamp wasn’t so bad as the name made it sound; the bog of eternal stench this was not, by a long stretch. It was actually pretty lovely– and doubly so since Jareth insisted on rowing, given Sarah’s hands had been so thoroughly tenderized by the feathers. 

She kept her head on a swivel, watching for any dangers that might be lurking in the water, or the trees, but it was… of course, the word to describe it was magical. Disarmingly so. 

It was a relief to find her voice working again, the burn and tightness of her throat relieved the second they left the cave. And Jareth’s face was unmarred, despite the very real stitching that had been over his mouth minutes prior. 

“So… the glitter.” She said, smiling as she leaned her chin on the backs of her hands, which was a relatively safe position, given the damage she bore was in her palms and the insides of her fingers. 

“The glitter?” Jareth responded, and Sarah nodded, then gestured at the trees that grew low over the water. 

“The shiny stuff that’s just everywhere.” 

“Fairies and magic.” He said, short and dismissive as if she was asking about normal boring dust. 

“So, fairies just… shed it? Like humans do skin cells?” She pressed, wanting to understand. 

“More like bees do pollen. The fairies have a tree, somewhere in this swamp area, in fact. It’s called the Heart of the Labyrinth, and it’s positively dripping with the stuff. They come back to it fairly regularly, roll around in it, then fly off, and as it dries it falls from them. Little blighters are everywhere.” 

“And you said… it’s also magic?” 

“Well, certainly. Magic is a resource, like any other. It’s sometimes solid, as in crystals or the sap from the Heart Tree. But the magic from that shimmer, it seeps out and suffuses the land around where it lands. The shimmer itself doesn’t stay magic for long, but it shows where the magic has been spread. Think of it like… like rain water. It soaks in, makes the ground more fertile.” 

“So these trees–” Sarah reached up, touching the low hanging willow-y branches. They were damp, like dew, and left a sparkling residue on her hand. It tingled where it touched, and coolness spread from it, lessening the pain. Intrigued, she rubbed her hands together, admiring the way the sparkle transferred between them, as well as the relief it offered.

“They probably produce some magic of their own, and probably attract the fairies because of it.” 

Jareth shrugged, the motion disrupting the smooth pattern of his rowing. 

“That’s remarkable. And no one has studied this?” 

“Why would they care? It’s just… there. It always has been, and always will be.” 

“That’s something humans had to learn. Not to take things for granted. Things that just are, sometimes we do things to destroy them, whether we meant to or not. And if we don’t know enough about it, we can’t know how to fix it.” 

Jareth laughed, and Sarah found herself smiling, startled and enchanted by the sound. 

“That’s the problem with humans, always thinking they need to be the master of everything! If you’re causing harm, just… stop. Leave it be, and it’ll mend itself. That’s how magic works. That’s how nature works.” 

Sarah shook her head, bemused. 

“Maybe that’s not how curiosity works. I’m still wondering why the Heart Tree dust developed that kind of appearance.” 

“Well, that’s easy. Fairies like shiny things. Of course a shiny tree is the perfect way to attract them.” He sounded almost disgusted, talking about something so wonderful and far fetched as fairies being magical pollinators. 

“Are they really pests like that? I met one last time I was here, and she did bite me, but… well, bees will sting if you grab them, too. But they serve an important purpose. And clearly the fairies do too. Without them, how else would the magic spread?” 

“A stiff breeze, perhaps?” Jareth suggested. “Fairies– and if we’re being honest, you probably met a pixie specifically; there are different types. But Fairies exist to sow chaos, create trouble, cause mayhem. Some goblins love to keep them as pets, but all hell breaks loose if they escape their cages, and they’re rather good at it. Half the ills of any given household in the Underground are caused by fairies.” 

“Maybe they just need to be given jobs or something. On earth, there’s stories of fairy cobblers and that sort of thing.” 

“I cannot imagine a single soul patient enough to successfully charm and train one fairy into being productive, let alone swarms of them.” Jareth said with some finality, though he did seem amused at the prospect. 

“Maybe if that patient soul learned an awful lot about them first.” Sarah answered. 

He chuckled in response, letting the subject drop, and she smirked to herself, perversely pleased to have gotten the last word. 

Around them, it didn’t feel so much like the swamp was closing in, as they were being pushed toward something– guided. 

Jareth even pulled the paddle out of the water, letting the river take them where it seemed they would inevitably go. 

“There’s something to be said for quite literally going with the flow.” Sarah mused. 

“I am sure that’s where the saying comes from. How are your hands?” 

She looked down at her palms, glad to see that some of the swelling and redness was gone. 

“The shimmer from the tree seems to have helped. Maybe try some on your injuries?” 

Jareth stared at her as if she were stupid, then shook his head. 

“Usually, I would say that would be wise. Right now… it hurts me. The air here all but thrums with magic, and my entire skin is on fire with it.”

Sarah almost smacked her forehead.
Of course; he’d mentioned that earlier– she hadn’t remembered. Again. And now that he said something, it was more obvious that the weight of that discomfort had settled over him. Not unlike the suffocating effect of a hot humid day. He looked worn, again. 

“I’m sorry. Maybe you should lay down for a bit. The boat seems to be fine, and I can hang onto the paddle in case something happens.”

Jareth looked dubiously at the size of the boat. Sarah huffed a laugh. 

“Put your head here and your feet there, and you should be fine.” She pointed at her lap, and Jareth looked… surprised, then pleased. 

“I have to admit, I would have thought you’d be hesitant to invite me closer, after the cave.” He turned, his back to her as he spoke, so that she couldn’t see his face. The words were light enough, as he sat on the floor of the boat and scooted back. She opened her legs, so that he was sitting between them. He looked up at here, expectantly, for her answer. 

“I’ve taken gender studies classes.” She started. “A lot of people are raised to feel that their sexual urges are predatory. And, like, yeah, if you would have acted on that when I was fifteen, that would be different. But none of those um… imaginary situations? I don’t know, is that a daydream? Anyway. You weren’t fantasizing about me as a child. And I’m not a child now. And, yeah, maybe it’s weird imagining you imagining me without my clothes on, but.” She shrugged. “I’d say that’s just human nature. Except you aren’t human. But you get the idea. You’re not making me uncomfortable, if that’s what you’re worried about. I’ll tell you if you do.” 

Jareth’s face had gone blank at some point, and he was watching her speak like she was something absolutely beyond his realm of understanding. An alien or something. 

“Humanity has spent much time pondering their own navels.” He finally settled on. “Classes about that!” It seemed almost under his breath. 

“But… I am glad, that you don’t find my attraction repulsive or troubling. I will take that for the victory it is.” He flashed a smile at her, and from here she could see the sharpness of his teeth, a brief echo of his sisters’ sharpness, but so very different in comparison. 

She found herself with the urge to bend down and kiss him, so she did,her hair immediately getting in the way and the position more awkward than spiderman had made it look. 

They both seemed to realize that, and broke apart giggling a bit, Sarah flushing from the experience, but pleased overall. 

They were so distracted that they were taken by surprise when their boat bumped against the shallows. 

Sarah looked up, and felt her eyes widen. 

They’d floated into a quiet little overgrown cove, the long ignored bird calls and buzz of insects silenced and replaced with a soft rhythmic hum. 

Around them, the plantlife shone with an ample layer of glitter, so much so that it gave off its own shine, the pale blue not quite bright enough to cast a shadow, but enough to be seen by the naked eye. 

“What is this place?” Sarah asked, voice hushed because it felt more appropriate. 

“I suspect we’re near to the Heart Tree.” Jareth answered lowly, though his voice was pained. 

Sarah turned to him, alarmed. 

“The magic?” She asked. Even she could feel the concentration of it was thicker here. It felt like static in the air– she could actually see her arm hairs standing on end. Jareth nodded. 

She cast around, then remembered her tanktop under the billowy shirt. 

Quickly, carefully, she stripped it off. 

“Put this on over your head, wrap the sleeves around your face.” 

She tugged it over him, batting away his attempts to help. When she was done, he looked a little like he was exploring the sahara. 

She put her hands on her hips. 

“Is that any better?” 

He paused, drew in a couple of breaths, then gave a muffled, “I think it helps. Thank you.” 

She grinned, pleased with herself, before remembering that she was fairly obviously braless. 

Again. 

“Well… there’s a path, and I feel like we’re supposed to follow it.” She gestured to the glowing plantlife, which seemed almost to be blinking, beckoning them on. 

“Walk softly, Sarah.” Jareth warned. 

She wasn’t entirely sure what he meant by that, but nodded just the same and began down the path, watching to be sure she brushed up against as little of the glittering foliage as possible, to avoid stirring it up or bringing residue with her. 

The path was not long, and while it was winding, the turns were gentle, elongated loops that felt almost intentionally laid out. 

She did see a plethora of fairies had replaced all of the other wildlife. Anywhere a bird might have perched, instead there were fairies of varying sizes and shapes. 

And as they moved, it became clear that the humming came from them. Each fairy had two distinct droning noises, one coming from their mouths and the other from their wings, which were fluttering almost impossibly quickly. 

“You may have had a point.” Jareth whispered from beside her. “I’ve never heard a fairy sound like this before.” 

“You’ve never been here?” Sarah asked, surprised that the King had never made a trek to a place known as the Heart of his lands. 

He shook his head. 

“I have tried, but thought it was only for fairies– my attempts have been thwarted by the route changing.” 

Sarah tilted her head, considering. 

“Maybe you just weren’t ready yet.” 

“Or perhaps it is a challenge now.” He sounded strained again, and she knew that he must be feeling it more as they drew closer. 

Turning the final bend, they saw it. It was unmistakable. The tree wasn’t just glittery, but it glistened. And it didn’t seem to be the tree that was truly the source of the light, for at its base there was a small pool that shone with a brightness that was nearly blinding. 

“Oh,” Jareth spoke softly, reverently. “That must be it. The source of magic. I had never considered…” 

He walked toward it, his footsteps falling heavier, as if he was in a trance, and at the edge of the pond he fell to his knees. 

Sarah followed, moving slowly, cautiously, looking for the challenge, afraid to interrupt something that felt so… sacred. And because of that, she was still several feet away when Jareth pitched forward and entered the pond, face first.

Chapter Text

Sarah cried out, the sound entirely too loud in the hush that followed Jareth’s plunge into the source of magic. 

The fairies had all turned to watch, their song silenced. 

Jareth sank down, and Sarah didn’t hesitate, immediately diving in after him. 

The pool was deep, deeper than it looked, and where normal water would have grown dark, the pool was its own light source. Sarah was nearly hit in the face as her shirt came up off of Jareth’s head, and her lungs began to ache. And then, below her, she watched as he… surfaced. 

His head breached what appeared to be the bottom of the pond, and she swam towards him, her own doing the same moments later. 

They both gasped, gulping in the air. 

“There’s no magic here.” Jareth panted. 

“What?” Sarah wiped the water out of her eyes, looking around. The pool was dark, the walls were dark– and he was right, the faintly static feeling that had been everywhere in the Labyrinth was missing. But she couldn’t see anything, and the air was stale. It felt… dangerous. It felt like somewhere on Earth where you shouldn’t go. Like they’d spelunked their way into a pocket of a cave, with little oxygen left in it. 

“Are we back in my world?” 

Jareth shuddered. 

“I don’t know. I suppose that makes sense; it’s called the Underground, after all. I didn’t realize they were linked, though. But… magic was coming from the pool. It was excruciating to be in. And now… nothing.” 

Sarah shook her head, treading water. 

“I don’t really want to get out in here. It feels wrong. Do you want to go back through?” 

Jareth took a deep breath. 

“I don’t hurt in here.” 

“Then let’s sit on the shore here and we’ll talk it out.” Sarah reached in front of her, trying to feel for an edge to the pool in the darkness. Instead she touched Jareth. He hissed and shrank back. 

“What? What is it?” 

“Magic, it’s all over your hand.” 

“Oh, I did rub it on my hands in the boat. But how is it here, if nothing else is magic?” 

“Maybe it sank into you?” He sounded uncertain. 

“Either way, we can’t stay here. Can’t you feel it? It’s… it’s suffocating here. We shouldn’t be here.” 

Jareth took another deep breath. 

“I don’t know if I can make it back.” He admitted quietly. “In the pond, I swam down because I could feel the water getting cooler as I went. It burned less the closer to here I got. Going the opposite way…” He trailed off, and Sarah understood. 

Swimming into pain would be more difficult. That made sense. 

“Maybe that’s the challenge.” She murmured. “And don’t worry. I’ll help you. But we have to go back.” Her heartrate was picking up, and she felt a sense of dread, a panic rising within her. 

Jareth reached out in the darkness and found her, grabbed her shoulder. He made another small pained noise. 

“You are rife with magic now. No wonder you feel uncomfortable. Alright. We’ll go back. Just… don’t let me drown.” 

She smiled, though she knew he couldn’t see it. 

“I won’t. Promise. Deep breath, and down on three?” 

“One.” He started. 

“Two. Three.” She finished the countdown, took her last breath of the horrible dead air, and dove. 

Immediately, she could see a light at the bottom of the pool, and she could make out the shape of him swimming beside her. 

The air was bad, it didn’t feel like it filled her lungs properly, and it made the return trip much more difficult. She could sense Jareth struggling as well, his strokes growing shorter. So she grabbed his shirt, hauling him with her in a way she hadn’t done since her brief stint as a lifeguard in training in her late teens. 

But her legs were powerful, and she was able to carry them back to the surface of the magical pond. 

She gulped in the sweet electric air of the Underground, and turned to see Jareth breathing easier now, looking like a wet cat and glowing softly from the water that clung to him. 

“We made it.” She gasped. “How are you feeling?” 

“It doesn’t hurt any longer. And… it feels as if I were. Healed, yes, but also… full again. Like I could…” 

He regained the shore and held out his hand, summoning a crystal into it as though it were the most natural process ever. 

Sarah saw him through it, and then it popped, and there he was, changed, dry, his hair perfectly reshaped and fluffy. 

She climbed out of the water herself, and he created a crystal for her, throwing it into the air over her head, so that it shattered over her, resolving into dry hair, fresh clothes, and a feeling of contentment she’d never really known before. 

But he looked troubled. 

“What’s wrong?” She asked. “I would have thought you’d be happy.” 

“I am,” he assured her, “Only… this would have been impossible without you. Don’t get me wrong, I am grateful. But. I passed this trial, not because I could, but because you carried me. It feels like further confirmation that I’m not what the Labyrinth needs, or deserves. I’m not enough. I never have been.” 

He looked so incredibly crestfallen. 

Sarah closed the distance between them, cradling his face in her hand confidently for the first time since leaving the aviary. 

“Hey. When you weren’t enough, you weren’t even allowed into this place. You’ve grown, you’ve changed. And maybe, if you weren’t enough, it wouldn’t have let you come back. Maybe that’s just one more vote of confidence, like each of your subjects has given you along the way.” 

He stared at her, wide eyed and up close. 

“Sarah, you’re glowing.” He said quietly. “And vote of confidence or no, I’m not sure where we go from here.” 

Sarah looked around, and something in the tree caught her eye. 

“There– look!” 

Hanging from the branches were two pendants that hadn’t been there before. The necklaces were much like the ones he wore, in the shape of a squat ouija planchette with horns, but one bore an owl in the center circle, and the other a raven. 

The owl one was more masculine, thicker, silver and gold. The raven was thinner, with more flourish to the design, and it was a green tinged silver, like it had been electroplated or something. 

“I suppose that one is yours.” He told her, taking the owl pendant for himself. “It’s fae court insignia, made to allow us to shift into other forms, even when we don’t have access to our full powers. Congratulations, Sarah. I do think the prophecy has been fulfilled. You’re part of the Labyrinth now.” 

Sarah traced the pendant reverently, gently pulled it free of the branches, and put it on over her head. She wasn’t entirely sure what that entailed, but after the suffocating experience of the lack of magic in that cave, she knew this was better. 

The moment it touched her chest, the clearing erupted in cheers and applause from the watching fairies, and the humming started up again, this time not a rhythmic pulse, but a wild and reeling tune, celebratory and manic. 

Looking around, she saw no way out of the clearing, the path they'd come in on now overgrown and indistinguishable from its surroundings. Looking up, she realized they were meant to fly out of here. 

She pressed her fingers to the raven image and opened her mouth with shock as the world around her began to shift violently. But no human voice rang out; instead, she heard a sharp cawing. 

Chapter Text

Flying was something she’d literally dreamed about, though in her dreams it was closer to her toes skimming over the top of grass in her front yard, and this was… well, it was work, if she was being honest. She didn’t have much of a grasp yet on how to glide on the air, so she spent a lot of time flapping and correcting and over correcting. 

It was a bit like learning to ride a bike, except with much further to fall, and a disorienting change in how her vision worked. 

Jareth kept flying circles around her, far more adept at this mode of transport. It would have been annoying, if she weren’t so terrified and distracted by fighting for her life. 

She reeled, trying her best to angle upwards, so as not to crash into the trees, but unable to aim herself very well, because looking around made her dizzy. She did manage to catch sight of the castle at one point, just because it was the tallest thing on the horizon, and she did a large almost circular turn trying to get herself flying towards it, but the motion made her wonder what it would feel like to puke as a bird. 

Jareth was flying around her now, getting closer, buffeting her with his wings and trying to guide her. She was doing her best to follow his directions, but they couldn’t exactly talk like this, and she was fast approaching exhaustion. 

Still, they managed to break free of the thickest of the trees, and Sarah began circling lower, well aware that she needed to find a place to land or a place to crash, and sooner than later. 

There was a grassy field that looked promising, and she began heading for that, until Jareth dove down and opened his wings in front of her. She swerved, alarmed, but all that did was make her swoop lower– directly into the line of a net. 

She shrieked in alarm and pain as her wing twisted in a way she knew instinctually that it shouldn’t. 

“Hey hey, it’s okay pretty birdie.” The goblin who had captured her was working to untangle her through the net. 

“Ay, cut it out!” The goblin swung his arm– including the net– at Jareth, who was attacking him with beak and talons. 

“Knock it off– what’s wrong with you? Owls and black birds’ren’t friends. Go, get–” 

He put the net down, surprisingly gently all things considered, stepped on it to keep her trapped, and pulled out some kind of weapon that she couldn’t see from here. 

She let out a shriek– unsure if she meant it more as a warning to Jaeth or a threat to the goblin, but it didn’t matter; neither understood her anyway. 

Jareth let out a pained cry, and the goblin’s victorious cackle turned into a horrified gasp. 

“Oh, your, Your Majesty, I didn’t realize.” 

“Release her before I have your entire home burned to the ground.” 

“I– Yes, so sorry, here we are–” 

The goblin knelt and reached into the net, pulling Sarah free. She cried out as her wrenched wing was jogged, and the goblin keened, clearly terrified. 

“Give her to me, and begone,” Jareth commanded, words stern. 

Sarah relaxed as he took her from the Goblin, cradling her gently in both hands as he clucked at her soothingly. 

“Your poor wing, oh, I’m sorry your first flight went like this. Here we are–” Jareth brushed his finger upwards, ruffling the crest of feathers over her chest. It triggered the necklace, she guessed, because she found herself changing back into a human. 

Sarah landed on her feet, then gasped with her incredibly sore human throat, right hand moving instinctively to catch the left. Jareth caught her by the shoulder, steadying her lest she fall.

“I think it’s broken.” She whimpered, the waves of pain dizzying enough that she barely noticed the disorientation of the physical transformation. 

“Looks like it– Here, sit down, I’ll find something to stabilize that with, and then we’ll figure out which goblin settlement we’re near; there will no doubt be some form of doctor or hedge witch.” 

Sarah sat, slowly, gingerly, her arm pressed to her chest to avoid jarring it as much as possible. 

She focused on breathing while she heard Jareth moving around somewhere out of her eyeline, and when he returned, it was with a couple of branches snapped from trees. 

He sat them in front of her and pulled out his boot knife, then removed his shirt, and it was only then that she realized. 

“You’re bleeding!” 

He looked down at his ribs and frowned. 

“He stabbed me, before he realized I wasn’t just some rabid wild owl.” He said simply, as though it were no big deal. 

He immediately turned his attention to cutting the hem of the shirt off, then cutting through that to create a long strip of fabric. 

“I know we ought to set this, but I don’t trust that I can keep it set once we do, or that I won’t do more damage in the process. So instead, I’m going to help you keep it stable, so we can go find real help.” 

Sarah nodded. 

“What do I need to do?” 

Jareth gave her a tight lipped, sad little smile. 

“I’m going to lay this out–” he put down the fabric strip. “Then, you put your arm down. And we’ll lay sticks out around it, and tie it up so that you’ve got a little cage for it. And then… we tie it around your neck and back, to keep it from moving.”

With a whimper, Sarah got her arm laid out, being careful not to put any weight on it.

“You know what would come in handy right about now?” She asked, then, with barely a pause, “Rope.” 

Jareth chuckled, though he did seem distracted. And that made sense; he was working quickly to get the splint put together. He was also dripping blood onto her fingers in the process, and Sarah was trying her best not to become alarmed by that. 

“How bad is that stab?” She asked. “It doesn’t exactly look like a scratch.” 

“I’ll bandage myself up next.” He promised. “But that’s just all the more reason to get moving as soon as we can.”