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Chapter Text

There was something so comforting about coming back to your house after being away for months.

Granted, Sarah hadn’t been too far away. Her college was four hours west of her childhood home, and she loved the experience of being in school. Her roommate was an old friend, and her dorm itself was cozy after some personalizations. She loved her classes, and the immersion that came with living on campus for the majority of the year.

But the thought of having a bathroom to herself for the first time in months… 

Well, let’s say it was more than enough reason to be excited to go home.

She hopped out of the passenger’s seat, stretching and yawning. Her father blinked at her blearily from the driver’s seat.

“Happy to be home?” He asked, the car door shutting with a thud behind him.

“Happy to be home,” she said, feeling a smile tug at her lips. The sun was barely risen, the golden rays dancing across the sides of the colonial house. She closed her eyes, letting warmth seep into her bones. She hadn’t had any coffee yet today, but the sun was a caffeine in itself. Her head cleared each second she stood there, basking in its warmth. Even with the approaching summer, this spring had been disastrously cold. Record-breakingly cold. The sun was a gift she didn’t know she had needed.

Her father handed her luggage to her. She walked up the front steps, hearing familiar creaks and groans from the old wood. 

The symphony of a well-worn house , she thought, as she walked through the front door. I should write that line down.

“Irene and Toby are still sleeping, I believe,” her father said, his voice hushed. She nodded, placing down her bags in the front entrance. “Would you like some coffee?”

“Would I ever?” Sarah asked mid-yawn. Her father smiled, leading her into the kitchen. The house was quiet, the type of quiet that comes with early risers, the sun waking at the same time as the people. The type of quiet when most of the house is still asleep, so the people have to be quiet, and so do the floorboards. The type of quiet that makes even the most quiet noises seem like cacophonies, like the slight rustle of coffee grinds in an unopened bag.

Sarah loved this type of quiet. 

Her father, bless him, was trying his hardest to muffle the coffee machine’s whirring. Saturday’s were the most prized day in the household, because no one ever had to set their alarm or wake earlier than they wanted to. Any loud noises were considered an act of war on a Saturday morning. 

Sarah watched, amused, as her father grabbed as many dishrags as he could, and cupped them around the coffee maker’s motor, muffling the sounds slightly. Sarah grabbed mugs from the cupboards.

“Are you still using that awful fake sugar Irene bought?” She asked softly.

Her father’s nose wrinkled as he chuckled. “No, no, we gave up on that about three months ago.”

“Thank god,” Sarah muttered, picking her father’s favorite mug and the one that Toby had made for her this past Christmas. It was red and dilapidated and almost diagonal, but she used it every chance she could. “That fake stuff would have put you in an early grave.”

Her father shrugged, or tried his hardest to shrug while almost hugging a coffee maker. “It served its purpose. But I missed real sugar.” 

They sat with their coffee in silence, watching the sun rise and listening to the birds chirping. It was Sarah’s suggestion to sit on the porch, one her father had happily agreed to. The wicker chair rocked under Sarah, stirring her coffee around in her mug. Her father rocked opposite her, humming slightly after every sip he took.

“How is Peach?” He asked suddenly. Sarah snorted into her coffee.

“ Peach is fine, though I’m sure she would prefer it if you called her by her real name, and not that horrible nickname you gave her however many years ago.”

“What’s wrong with “Peach”? It’s your favorite fruit!”

“It’s just a little weird to call a twenty year old girl “Peach”, Dad.” Sarah shook her head. “There’s nothing wrong with calling her Tay.”

“Everyone calls her Tay,” her dad sniffed indignantly. “I want to be remembered as the man who called her Peach.”

“You’re silly,” Sarah chuckled. “But she’s fine. Great, even. She’s talking to this guy she really likes, his name is… oh, it’s something that begins with an S, I think.”

“Is it Spaghetti?” he asked. Sarah laughed.

“No, I don’t think it’s Spaghetti, Dad.”

“Oh, I know! Salamander!”

“Nope.”

“I got it! First name, Spaghetti, last name, Wolf.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Fine. Just Spaghetti, then.”

Sarah shook her head again, trying to hold back giggles. “Oh, forget it. I’ll never remember it now.”

“And how’s that girl from your Writing Class, E-something?”

“Elizabeth is also doing well,” Sarah nodded. “She’s working on a book.”

“What’s it about?”

“Oh, something with vampires, and magic, and I think there’s supposed to be a dragon in there too. She’s constantly scribbling down ideas, I don’t know where she gets the inspiration from.”

“Vampires and dragons and magic, oh my!” he gasped dramatically. Sarah laughed.

“Dad, you’re such a dork.” 

“He is much dorkier than he lets on,” a voice said from the doorway behind them. Sarah and her father turned, seeing a bleary-eyed Irene standing in the sun, a mug of coffee cupped in her hands. “He certainly didn’t let any of it show when we met, though. Smart move on his part.”

Sarah stood up to greet her. “Sleep well?” She asked, a smile on her face as she hugged her step-mother. Irene nodded, hugging her back.

“Welcome home, Sarah.”

“It’s good to be back,” Sarah said truthfully. Long gone were the days that Irene and her feuded over the most trivial matters. Irene and her had become very close, bonding over everything between classic movies and getting their nails done together. Irene had become one of her closest confidants, letting Sarah rant about school and boys and her roommate if needed.

Irene settled down, wishing Robert a good morning as she gazed upon the sun with upset eyes. 

“I hope we didn’t wake you,” Sarah said.

“Oh, honey. My body is still on it’s work clock. You and Robert were as quiet as mice, I promise.” Irene’s smile was genuine. Sarah could not help but return it, before heading back inside. She knew Irene liked to spend mornings with Robert alone, talking work and who would pay which bill, making plans for the day.

“I heard it’s going to rain today.”

“Nonsense. There isn’t a cloud in the sky.”

She found her way upstairs, yawning, despite the coffee she had just ingested. She passed Toby’s room, peeking in and finding him crashed on his bed, face down into his pillow. She would have been concerned if this was not a regular occurrence for him. He tended to sleep best when he was face down on his pillow, body askew across his bed, as odd as it was. Sarah shook her head, a small smile on her face, shutting the door. He had turned five last month, and had told her how excited he was to officially celebrate when Sarah came home. 

Her feet carried her to her old room before she realized what they were doing. The room was more bare than normal. Most of her treasured items came with her to college, and were currently in her luggage downstairs. She had refused to let her father handle the bag containing these items, most of them fragile and needed to be handled with care. The least fragile items in the bag were her dvd copies of Beauty and the Beast, Alice in Wonderland, and Peter Pan. 

Sarah could not stop herself as her feet carried her to her bed, leading her to pull back the covers, and lay down.

As soon as her head hit the pillow, her brain faded to quiet as she fell into a deep sleep.

“Sarah.”

She was trapped. Trapped in a dark room, with a screen above her head, so large, so wide. It showed a familiar path, leading between dusty walls that wound and twisted and misled her. It showed a familiar wrinkled face, a large, orange creature, and a small fox-person, with a sheepdog as it’s steed. 

“Sarah.”

The screen whirled around, as if it was a person, and Sarah was seeing through their eyes. Another face appeared, one even more familiar to her than the rest. One that haunted her every sleeping hour, and even the ones that she was not quite asleep for either.

“Sarah,” Jareth purred, reaching toward her. “I will see you soon, precious.”

By the time her eyes peeled themselves open, it was well past noon. Sarah groggily made her way downstairs, finding Toby sitting on the couch of the living room, staring intently at the television. Lo and behold, it was raining outside, just as Irene had said.

“Good afternoon, Sarah!” Irene called, peeking her head out from the kitchen. “I’m making lunch, it should be ready soon! Would you like some?”

“Yes, please!” Sarah said, her stomach rumbling at the thought of food.

Toby’s head snapped to her, before his mouth broke into a grin, and he launched himself off the couch and into her abdomen.

“Oof!” 

Irene shouted, “Toby, be nice!”

“Saraaaaaaahhhh!” Toby cried into her stomach. “I missed you!”

“I missed you too, Tobes,” Sarah said, subtly rubbing her stomach where he body-checked her. “What are you watching?”

“Pirates!”

“Pirates, huh?” Sarah checked the screen. Indeed, he was watching Pirates of the Caribbean. Which of the five, Sarah could not tell, but she could tell that Orlando Bloom was looking as fine as ever. “Do you want me to watch with you?”

“Yes!” Toby clambered back onto the couch, before sitting down and slamming his hand onto the couch cushion next to him. Sarah happily obliged, sitting with her brother and settling in for a long day of watching movies.

And, as the day passed by, little creatures began to enter the house, their footsteps and chattering masked by the sound of rain. No one noticed their entry. 

But Sarah did frown at the sight of a barn owl flying past the window, before turning back to the movie and forgetting all about it.

Sarah passed by an open door, before stopping and going back. It was past eight, now, and as she peeked past the door, she found her father sat on the edge of Toby’s bed, crumpling the quilted blue comforter. Toby lay beneath the blankets, curled on his side. The lamp atop his nightstand was turned on, and a familiar red book was in her father’s hands.

“Whatcha’ reading?” Sarah asked, leaning on the doorframe. They both turned to her, Toby breaking into a smile.

“Daddy’s reading me the secret book !” Toby whispered loudly, pulling the covers up to his chin.

Sarah blinked, glancing at the copy of The Labyrinth in her father’s hands. “Why is that the secret book? ”

Her father sighed, smoothing the blankets near him. “Irene doesn’t like when I read this to Toby too often.”

Sarah frowned. “Why? It’s a great book.”

Her father glanced at Toby, before motioning her inside the room. Standing up, he closed the door behind her.

“She thinks it’s part of the reasoning behind your… episodes. When you were fifteen.”

Sarah opened her mouth, then closed it. Then opened it again, then closed it again. She said finally, “I don’t think we can blame a book for those, Dad.” 

Truthfully, it was not the book’s fault. It was not like the book was the reason for her night terrors at the age of fifteen, or the occasional attacks from goblins trying to take her “shiny things” or her “pota’oes”. Honestly, they all stopped as soon as she gave the book to one year-old Toby, but it was not the book’s fault. And, as far as she could tell, the book had not had any effect on Toby’s psyche.

“I know that, Sarah. She just worries for Toby. It was almost right after you read this book that those episodes started. The correlation is a little suspicious, in her mind.”

“Correlation does not mean causation, Dad.” Sarah rolled her eyes. “C’,mon. It’s just a harmless book.” She plucked it from his hands, the words coming from her mouth so easily. “Like, here. 'Quite often, young lady, it seems we're not getting anywhere, when in fact we are.' That’s a bunch of mumbo-jumbo, right?”

As soon as she said it, she was struck with such momentary deja-vu. She couldn’t quite remember which of her friends from The Labyrinth had said that line to her, but she was aware that calling it “mumbo-jumbo” was not necessarily the nicest way to honor her friends underground. 

Toby laughed, however, shocking her out of her thoughts. “It’s silly! I like it!”

“This book, Sarah,” her father said, “where did you get it, anyway?”

“Oh, the old book store on Oak. I found it one day and it just… drew me in.” Now that her brain was remembering her experience in The Labyrinth, she was having a hard time focusing on her words. It had been a while since she had thought about Hoggle, or Ludo, or Sir Didymus, or even Jareth himself. A small frown curled across her mouth. That wasn’t true. Jareth had been oddly present in her mind recently. Horribly present. Annoying present .

“I remember you loved that store… what an odd book to find there…” Her father gazed at the copy in her hands, face twisted. “I hadn’t even heard of it before you brought it home.”

Sarah twitched uncomfortably. “It’s a book, Dad. Why are you so concerned over it?”

“Because it is odd, Sarah. The book, the episodes. I know that book has goblins in it. Your night terrors had goblins in them, too. Are you sure it’s not correlated?”

Sarah laughed, knowing all too well that there was definitely a correlation. “No, Dad. I think you’re overthinking this. I was just a kid with an overactive imagination. It’s not like the goblins and other creatures in here are real.”

Each word stung as they left her mouth, but she couldn’t stop. This is to protect them , she told herself. To protect Toby. To protect me. 

“And, if they were, what business would they have with me? It’s not like I would be of any use to them, I’m much too old to be turned into one of their little “changelings”. Toby, however…” Sarah let the thought hang in the air, smirking at the boy.

Toby shrieked, diving under his covers. “No goblins!” He claimed, becoming a small mass underneath the patchwork quilt, “I don’t wanna be a change-thing!”

Sarah’s father laughed, seeming to be much more at ease. “Well, someone would have to wish for the goblins to come for Toby first! They would bite at your toes, and stick their fingers in your ears!” Her father responded to the silly nature of their conversation, tickling Toby’s lumpy form through the covers. Toby squeaked and laughed. “And then!” her father whirled on her, fingers wiggling in the air, “They would come for Sarah, and tug her hair and rip up her clothes and steal her shoes!”

Sarah chuckled, shoving her father away before he had the chance to tickle her. “Maybe I wish the goblins would come and take you away, Dad! Right now!”

The words left her mouth before she could think, but as soon as they did, her hands flew to her mouth in horror. No . 

The black sky turned blacker, the lightbulbs fizzing and popping with a sudden crack of lightning across the sky. Sarah’s ears popped as the air-pressure plummeted. Toby screamed as thunder boomed, so close and so loud that the house rattled and Sarah stumbled from the force. Raindrops slammed into the windows— suddenly, forcefully, even though the sky had been clear moments before. She knew why the storm had come. It masked the arrival of the little goblins and their beautiful, cruel king.

Sarah did not think.  Her father was already gone: he had disappeared the instant she had made her dastardly wish. She ripped the covers back, grabbing Toby and pulling him into her arms. He screamed, but his arms and legs wrapped around her in a vice-like grip. She backed up, pushing herself against the wall as tightly as she could as the wind rattled the windows against the other wall. Over the storm outside, over the wind and rain and thunder that created a cacophony in her ears, she heard gleeful whispers.

“She said it!”

“She said the words again!”

“The little girl said it!”

“She said the words!”

“Did she say the words?”

“Of course, you oaf! He’s coming! Oh, he’s coming!”

She hugged Toby tighter, wondering what kind of fool she was for not only letting her father be taken, but allowing these creatures back into her home. 

“Breathe, Toby,” she muttered to him as he shook in her arms. “Everything will be alright. Just breathe and focus on my voice.”

Toby whimpered against her shoulder, and she rubbed his back calmly, the opposite to everything else in the room.

Something rattled against the window. Through the darkness, through the rain and wind, lightning flashed, illuminating a beautiful barn owl, it’s claws gripping the window panes viciously. Her mouth murmured words of encouragement to Toby as she held him, waiting for the inevitable moment where the windows would— 

The window burst open, the rain and wind and owl all entering in a flash of wet and of glitter. Despite the situation, Sarah almost snorted. She had forgotten how completely ostentatious he was.

And there he was. Standing in his regal, glittering glory. His hair, feathered and blonde, styled in a way that no one else could pull off, but he somehow managed to. His mismatched eyes, green and blue, glittering in a different way than the air around him. His cloak, black and beautiful over a billowing white button-up and ridiculous leather pants. Not to mention, the boots that would give Luke Skywalker and his chanel boots a run for his money. Oh, curse Elizabeth and her obsession with Star Wars! This is not the time!

Jareth regarded her with a look that was almost impressed, but mostly mocking.

“Hello again, precious,” he said finally, giving her his most dazzling grin.

“You’re the worst,” she found herself saying.

His eyes flew wide for a second, before a loud and surprised laugh bubbled out of him. “Yes, yes I suppose I am. First, I take your brother, and now your father! Of course, I will always be the villain in your story, won’t I? Even if you are the one doing the bidding, and I am but your humble servant.”

“Give him back…” Sarah demanded, before reluctantly adding, “please.”

Jareth, unsurprisingly, ignored her. “It’s almost as if you want me to get rid of all the men in your life! I guess none of them can compare after meeting me, can they, dearest?”

“Can we please not do this song and dance again?” Sarah asked, body shaking underneath Toby. He hadn’t moved yet. It seemed that out of the two survival choices, Toby had neither chosen fight or flight , but instead freeze . “I just went through finals week, and I’m really not in the mood for more mind games. Answering psychology questions on a time limit is enough mind games for one lifetime. We both know that I didn’t mean what I said, so how about you give me my dad, I don’t waste 13 hours of both of our lives, and we can both get back to what we were doing before this?”

Lightning flashed, illuminating his form once again. She realized he was walking toward her. “Oh, Sarah,” he purred, sending shivers cascading down her spine. “You know I cannot do as you wish.” 

She had forgotten how much he vexed her. How often he plagued her mind, her dreams, her memory.  He was ethereal, glowing with the faint light of magic, peering down at her with haunting eyes. He knew what she was thinking. She could see it on the curl of his lip. Her thoughts had wandered somewhere dangerous. They were the type of thoughts exchanged between two strangers at two in the morning, with nothing between them but the clothes on their backs. They were the type of thoughts one had when their eyes met another’s, exchanging a mutual desire for each other. They were the type of thoughts understood by two lovers, when they realized how their night would end.

Jareth, the son of a bitch that he was, knew this. He knew she craved him. She knew he knew. And she had a sneaking suspicion that he craved her, too. 

“Once the words are said, I must abide by the rules.” Jareth continued, eyes staring at her lips. “And, truly, did you not enjoy the time you spent in my Labyrinth? Wasn’t your 13 hours under my roof quite enjoyable? You were able to play hero! You defeated the dastardly villain, claimed your brother, and even made friends along the way! What more could you ask for? Do you not wish to relive some of the most exciting hours of your life?”

“Exciting must mean something different down there,” Sarah snapped, annoyed at him and herself. “I did what needed to be done. The only thing I really wish is that I wasn’t dumb enough to let it happen twice.”

“I just think you missed me,” Jareth said, placing one hand on his chin and sending her a dastardly grin. She turned pink, and saw red.

“Missed you ?” she seethed, her grip tightening on Toby. “You plagued me with nightmares for a year after my experience in your hellscape! You sent your little demons to rob me any chance you could! Do not think for a second that I missed your world of devils!”

Toby squeaked underneath her grip, and she immediately loosened her hold on him, rubbing his back in apology. Jareth’s eyes turned to the boy, as if it was the first time he had noticed what was in her arms. 

“They are goblins, precious, not demons,” Jareth said, seemingly distracted by the little boy in her arms, “but I forgive your slip of mind. It has been five years since you’ve been amongst my subjects. Would you like to say hello again?” He raised his hand, a dangerous move.

Sarah instinctively pressed into the wall as she shook her head, eyes widening. “He’s little, and he’s already scared. Please don’t make this any worse. You already know I’m going with you.”

Jareth blinked, before lowering his hand smoothly. “Very well. We don’t need to go through the specifics again, I suppose. You already know how this works. 13 hours. If you win, I let him go. If you lose, I keep him. Now, put the boy down, and we shall be on our way.”

Sarah went to release Toby, but his grip on her had turned deadly.

“Toby, please. I’m going to get Dad.”

“No!” he shrieked. “You can’t go!”

“Toby, I won’t be gone long. Just, 20 minutes. I’ll be right back, I promise.”

Jareth chuckled softly, and Sarah shot him a look. Toby was shaking in her arms. “Jareth go away!”

Jareth’s eyes flew wide open. “So, he knows of me! Good things, I’m sure!”

“Considering you kidnapped him 5 years ago, I’m sure it’s quite the opposite.” Sarah tugged on Toby’s arms. “You need to let go, Toby!”

“Would you like some assistance, love?”

“Touch him, and I’ll cut off whatever it is your pants seem to cling to so desperately.”

Jareth’s permanent smirk turned into choking as Sarah managed to pull Toby off her arms.  She stumbled back, fully prepared to leap into Jareth’s arms if that was what kept Toby in this room, safe and away from the Labyrinth, when Toby launched himself at full speed off the bed and onto her torso. Jareth’s eyes flew wide as Sarah fell backward.

Dimly, she was aware of something connecting with the back of her head before everything went black.

Jareth hadn’t expected to teleport back to the Labyrinth so frantically. 

Usually, it was a smooth transition. The participant would barely notice that they were in the Labyrinth until Jareth himself left the area. Then, they would have to figure their way around on their own, Jareth watching giddily from his Throne Room with a child in a crib or pen nearby.

This, however, had been the most chaotic transition of all.

Because most times, it was a child being taken, not a middle-aged man.

Because most times, the participant was alone.

Because most times, the participant wasn’t tackled by their younger sibling into a dresser and knocked unconscious before Jareth could even blink.

Yet, here he was, sitting in a tree branch, watching Sarah Williams’s unconscious form lay on the dusty path, waiting for her to wake up.

He had panicked, he would admit. Children were such pains to control. Such a hassle to deal with. It was always much easier when they were so young. That is why the changelings were placed at such a young age. Not only would the parents barely notice a difference in their child’s behavior, but it was much easier to deal with an infant than a five year-old.

The Labyrinth looked identical to the way it had when he had left. Not that the appearance from this far would change, but normally, the energy would have shifted to match the participants energy. Yet, it had not. Because Sarah had not woken.

His eyes drifted back to her. She was older. Her face was less round, more cheekbone and jawline than before. Her hair was shorter, not by much, but Jareth still noticed. Her lips were plump, a pretty pink color, and her skin was as flawless as ever. Her figure had changed too, naturally. No longer was she the twig that had made it through the Labyrinth five years ago. Now, she was a fully developed woman, with curves and angles and strength. He wondered how much quicker she would conquer the Labyrinth this time. Or how much quicker she would fail.

That was the thing about Humans, Jareth had realized quickly. Humans are motivated creatures, but as soon as they lose their ability to believe, they are of no use in the Underground. Sure, they may thrive above, but down here, in his domain, believing is what keeps the Labyrinth alive. Belief, and creativity. Sarah had claimed plenty of both five years ago. He could not wait to see how she had changed.

Well, if her reference to his pants was any indication, she had clearly found her spunky side.

He had missed her. She was the most fun he had had in ages. He missed her attitude and her cleverness and her green, green eyes. Eyes that haunted him until this day. He wished to get closer to her, to see the flecks of brown amidst the sea of green. He wished to get closer, to touch her silky locks of hair. He wished to get closer still, and feel the pale skin of her neck that he loved so much underneath his fingertips, his palm, his mouth. There was no way he would allow her to leave this place easily. He would make her an offer she could not refuse.

Fear me. Love me. Do as I say, and I will be your slave.

It would be much harder for her to resist him now that she was older and more… mature. He had seen the way she had looked at him. He knew she would not be able to resist much longer. And Jareth was patient. Very, very patient.

Her finger twitched, and Jareth’s eyes zeroed in on that movement. Then her whole hand, before her elbow bent, hand finding her face, scrubbing over her eyes as she sat up. Jareth slipped from his post in the tree, feet finding the dusty path silently as Sarah came to.

She glanced around her surroundings, taking it all in slowly, before finding her way to her feet. She gazed upon the Labyrinth, and Jareth could see the… nothing, in her eyes.

Nothing…? Jareth thought. How could there be nothing? She is supposed to fear this place, love this place, face it with determination and a bit of worry. Why is there nothing behind her eyes?

Jareth tilted his head as her face turned to her own hands. She looked at her palms, then the backs of her hands, before trailing to her clothes, observing them with calm, curious eyes.

Jareth couldn’t help himself. “Yes, dearest, you are splendid to look at, but do remember that you are on the clock.”

She turned to him, not in the hurried way that she did so often, not in the way that made him chuckle and smile, but in a confused, clueless way.

“Um…” she said, blinking at him.

“Are you forgetting why we are here, love?”

“I’m sorry… who are you?”

Jareth blinked, before chuckling. “Ah, I see. Playing a little game? You do always like to keep everything interesting, don’t you?”

“Ah, no. No games. I don’t know who you are. My head feels quite… fuzzy, actually. Do I know you, sir?”

Sir.

The title jolted through him like a gunshot, or what he assumed gunshots felt like. Sir. Sarah had called him sir.  

And, as he realized this, he felt the energy of the Labyrinth shift. Shift in a very, very odd direction.

Something was truly wrong.

“Do you truly not know who I am?” Jareth asked, voice obstinate and an octave higher than he would have liked.

“I’m afraid I do not.”

Jareth blinked. She had hit her head on the way down… was this a side-effect of the bump? 

“I… I actually cannot remember where I am. Do you… do you know where we are?” 

Jareth blinked, before laughing. It was not a normal laugh. It was high-pitched, nervous, and ridiculous. “This is all very funny, Sarah, but I believe all you are doing is wasting time.”

Sarah blinked. “Sarah?”

He stilled. She said it like she did not recognize her own name.

Oh, this was not going the way he expected at all.

He looked at her right in the eye. She was serious. She didn’t know who he was. She didn’t know who she was. “I’ll be… right back,” was all he said before fading into nothing.

Chapter Text

She truly could not remember how she got there.

Her head was throbbing, underneath a mass of dark hair. She assumed something had happened that caused her to forget where she was, because she did not recognize anything before her.

The dusty path she stood on underneath an orange sky led to what appeared to be a maze… well, more of a labyrinth, if you will. But behind her was nothing but a tall, dark tree, and flat land for miles. There seemed to be nothing at all in the world beyond what lay right before her. So, she did what she only knew to do. She walked toward it.

That man from before, though he was quite beautiful, seemed odd. He acted as if he knew her, and what she was doing. He said she was “wasting time”, on what, though, she was not sure. He had called her “Sarah”, which must be her name. He had called her “love”, too. Maybe they were in a relationship? She wasn’t sure if she would ever date someone as odd as him, though he was quite enchanting to look at.

And, it was very unexpected to see him fade away. She did not think that was normal, but maybe that was just her memory. If she had the ability to do that, she could not remember how. She would ask him when he got back. He said he would be back. She assumed he meant the little clearing near the black tree, but if he could fade away and reappear, it would not be a big deal if she wandered off a bit… right?

Sarah came across a break in the large, sand colored walls that created the labyrinth before her. It all seemed familiar to her…

Aha ! She had figured it out. This is where she must live.

Sarah entered the Labyrinth, feeling right at home amidst the dusty ground and high walls. If this is where she was from, her home must be nearby.

She glanced around. The Labyrinth, as far as she could tell, was empty. Not a soul to be seen. There were no footprints in the dust. There weren’t signs pointing to locations around this Labyrinth. She was already lost, and she had just arrived.

Vines crawled up the sides of the walls, entwining and creating what appeared to be a ladder to the top of the wall. Sarah blinked, and smiled. “I can use this to see over the top, and figure out how to get home! Wherever home is… I’ll probably know it when I see it!” Eagerly, she grabbed onto the ropey vines. The plant was thick and solid beneath her fingers, and with a quick test, she knew it would hold her weight. Without a second thought, she placed her feet on the sturdy part, and began to climb.

It was going well! Very well, in fact, halfway up, she could almost imagine what it would look like from up top. Images swirled in her head, something she almost thought could be memories, though she wouldn’t be sure until she reached the top. 

Sarah lifted her leg to climb up again, but her foot snagged on something. Glancing down, it became clear that her foot had not, in fact, snagged on something, but that the vine had wrapped its way around her foot.

And was still wrapping it’s way around her foot, moving up her leg fairly quickly.

With a shriek, Sarah scrambled to climb up the wall, but the vine tugged her down. Her fingers slipped from the vines, and she fell, falling until the vine holding her leg stopped her fall, letting her slam into the viney wall.

“Argh!” The sound ripped out of her before she could stop it, pain seizing the muscles in her back. Sarah’s vision swam as her hands scrabbled for purchase, for leverage, for something to stop her swaying.

“‘Ello,” said something from above her. Or, rather, below her. Sarah slowly tilted her head back, looking to the ground of the Labyrinth and seeing a small ball of fluff. A blink, and the small ball of fluff turned into a small ball of fluff with a face.

“Uhh,” Sarah said, not believing what she was seeing. “Hello?”

“Wot’re you doin’?” it asked, voice high pitched and squeaky as it wobbled around to face her from a less painful angle. It was about six inches tall, dark brown or black fuzz covering it completely except for its face, which showed beady eyes, a tiny nose, and a permanently frowning mouth. It was oddly adorable.

“I am trying to find my way home. Do you know where I live?”

“No miz, I dunno where youse livin’,” the fluff ball said. “Where does you livin’?”

“I don’t know.” Sarah shifted, half-heartedly batting at the vine as it creeped it’s way up her leg. “Do you have anything sharp I can use to free myself? I would like to talk to you more, but I don’t like the predicament I am in at the moment.”

Something wicked gleamed in the small ball’s eye as a small, jagged blade whipped from nowhere into its tiny hand. It hopped over, climbing it’s way up the vines, and handed her the blade.

“Will youse be given’ it back af’er, miz?”

“Of course,” Sarah said hurriedly, almost ripping it from his hands. The vine had crept it’s way around her torso, brushing her chest with the end of its tangle. The blade, despite the small size, sliced through the thick vines as if they were butter. They were so effective, that Sarah tumbled from the vines almost instantly, heading straight for the ground. She closed her eyes, awaiting impact.

A flash of light, followed by familiar glitter, and she was swept into strong arms. She barely had the chance to open her eyes, catching a glimpse of mismatched eyes and a soft smile, before she was set on her feet and alone again.

Well, he had come back, just like he said, but it was not for as long as she would have expected. 

“Yer ‘ighnesses!” the ball squeaked, rolling over a bit in his hurry to approach Sarah. “Wot’re you— argh, ‘e’s gone.”

“Your Highness?” Sarah asked. “That man is a ruler?”

“‘E’s th’ King!” the ball said. “Wot did ‘e want wiff youse?”

“I don’t know…” Sarah glanced around, as if to find a glance of the King, but there was nothing different. 

“I mized th’ King,” it seemed to deflate in defeat, since the King was nowhere to be found.

She handed back the blade to the ball of fluff, watching it’s demeanor perk up instantly. “What is your name?”

“Kobs, miz. Th’ nameses Kobs.”

“It is nice to meet you, Kobs.”

“What iz yer nameses, miz?”

She stopped for a moment. “I believe my name is Sarah, since that is what the King called me.” She looked down at him. “Do you mind telling me what you are?”

“Imma Goblins, miz.”

The word flashed through her brain like a bullet. Images of a room, with pretty furniture and a flowery bedspread. Images of the furniture opening up, and more fluffy goblins appear from the drawers and from under the bedspread. Images of a room full of stairs, coming from every which way and leading to nowhere. Images of a familiar fuzzball, but slightly different in coloring and facial structure. 

As soon as they came, they left.

“Goblins?” She said, the word sounding foreign in her mouth. “I didn’t… you aren’t… do you have a brother?”

Kobs blinked up at her with beady black eyes. “Uh huh, miz. Geerd.”

“He looks like you? Lighter… fur or fuzz or fluff or whatever you call it?”

“Yeses. How youse know dis?”

Sarah said honestly, “I don’t know. I just… do.” Sarah started walking along, slowly, so Kobs could keep up. “How come you are so small? I thought Goblins would be bigger.”

“We iz miniatures, miz,” Kobs said the word carefully, as if he struggled to pronounce it.

“Miniature Goblins? I did not know such a thing existed.”

“We iz th’ rare ones, miz. On’y used when we iz needed.”

“Needed for what?”

“Whatevah th’ King needz us for.”

Sarah frowned. “That sounds… very wrong. He does not make you do horrible things, does he?”

“Well, sumtimes, miz. If we iz needed to.”

Sarah stopped in her tracks, giving Kobs a second. “Do you know how to get to the Castle? I bet the King can help me get home.”

Kobs bleated, a weird noise to hear from something so small. “Yeses! I can gets youse to th’ Castle!” He set off, moving slower than a snail thanks to his tiny legs.

Sarah asked, hesitantly, “Kobs?”

“Yeses, miz?”

“Can I… would you mind if I carried you? You can point me in the right direction, but that way we can move…” She could not say faster, she did not want to hurt his feelings, “That way we can move together and not get lost!”

Kobs seemed to ponder that. “I suppos’ that woudn't be too bad, now, woudit?”

“Not at all,” Sarah sighed, relieved that they could not move faster. She felt as if they could not waste any time, though that could have been the King’s fault, for saying she was “wasting time” and “on the clock”. What she was “on the clock” for, she was not sure, but it felt urgent. “Come along,” she leaned down, carefully scooping Kobs into her hand and placing him on her shoulder like a tiny angel. At the closer look, his face was even more wrinkled than it appeared, and he seemed to be frowning harder. Maybe more of a devil than an angel , she thought, as they set off, following Kob’s instructions.

They moved deeper into the Labyrinth, winding through the maze cautiously, in case more vines were waiting to snatch her up. The walls turned darker, a slow gradient from the sandy color they were before to a mahogany brown, turning more mangled and roughly edged. The ground became more of a dirt than a dust, the sky turning from a bright orange to a twilight blue. The entire Labyrinth seemed more wild here, more alive. 

“It’s not turning to night already, is it?” Sarah asked.

“No, miz. Tha’s just how th’ Singin’ Treeses ar’.”

The Singing Trees? Sarah wondered, as she turned a corner, and realized why half of the name was what it was.

A forest lay before her, the trees blacker than night, with yellow-y leaves fluttering along their branches, a cacophony of rustling leaves reaching her ears. The forest went deep, the trees visible even deep into the dark not-night. Sarah turned left and right, only seeing the border of trees meeting the dark Labyrinth walls. It did not seem to end. The dirt had ended, replaced by an odd grass that only seemed to grow an inch high, though seemed to thrive in this environment. The trees towered over her, dozens of feet high, with thick trunks and low hanging branches that Sarah could reach if she tried. The bark was heavy, knotted and warped along the wood of the tree, almost creating faces in the wood. Sarah moved to get a closer look.

“Stay away from th’ trunkses, miz.” Kobs said in her ear. She jumped. “That iz hows they getcha.”

Sarah did not know what that meant, but she scurried back anyways. “Why are we here, Kobs?”

“Sho’tcut,” he said simply. 

“Ah.” Sarah swallowed. “So I just—” she gestured to the forest.

“Wheneve’ yer ready, miz.”

“Alright,” she breathed out, stepping forward into the forest.

The leaves of all the trees fell silent.

“Be’ter get a mov’ on, miz. They don’ like unwan’ed visiterz,” Kobs said. Sarah hurried along, ignoring how deafening the sound of a silent forest was. Her footsteps were the only sound around, next to her loud breathing and the hushed huffs from Kobs in her ear. She could feel eyes on her as she moved, but from animals or people or the trees, she would not stop to find out. The forest seemed to close in above her, blocking out any sign of light or direction she needed. Her eyes adjusted, but the waiting period seemed like an eternity. Every second felt like a minute, and every minute gave her the feeling she was walking to her demise. 

“Why is this place called The Singing Trees?” Sarah asked, voice as hushed as she could make it.

“‘Cause,” Kobs said, “th’ treeses sing.”

Sarah refrained from rolling her eyes. “What does the singing do, Kobs?”

“Ah, well, miz, th’ treeses use th’ singin’ to lur—” Kobs was cut off by a gasp from Sarah.

One of the trees had a small thing sticking halfway out of it. It did not take long for Sarah to realize that thing was a person, or a goblin, or something with a brain and it was being absorbed by the tree.

Sarah did not think. It was something that struck her as very her , something that screamed “I am Sarah!”. She did not think, before barreling toward the goblin person, intent on freeing it from the tree’s grasp.

She slid to her knees, accidentally shaking Kobs from his perch, and started peeling away the bark as quickly as she could. The thing looked familiar, but that was not her focus at the moment. She could talk about its familiarity later, preferably when it was still alive to speak to her. 

Her fingers stung as she dug her hands into the bark, wrenching bits off the poor person’s body. She could see it moving now, creeping up it’s frame like the vines did with her, slowly pulling the person into the tree like it was the tree’s meal. And it probably was. If these trees could sing, they were probably capable of digesting this poor creature. Sarah moved faster at that notion. The bark fell to the ground softly, but it broke off like gunshots, the sounds echoing through the forest like a declaration of war. Still, Sarah worked. And slowly, ever so slowly, she freed it.

She had freed most of its torso and it’s left leg when she heard the call.

It was a soft, simple melody that caught her ear. Like a birdsong, but gentler, less chaotic and frantic. It had a rhythm, a harmony, a cadence that a bird could never replicate. It set her mind at ease, causing her fingers to slow as she worked against the bark, slowing her muscles to a stop. She kneeled on the ground, fingers running gently across the blades of grass that grew across the forest floor. She felt comfortable. She felt relaxed. She felt at ease.

She barely noticed the alarmed squeaks from the dark little puffball.

She barely noticed the bark creeping back over the thing.

She barely noticed the bark extending its reach to her, starting to wrap around her arm and pull her into the tree.

She did, however, notice the yelling from behind her. 

It was so distant, Sarah had thought it was a part of the song. The trees sang wonderfully, and each note surprised her, made her want to listen more. So the yelling did not seem too out of place. It surprised her. So she let it slide.

Then it got louder. Sarah was struggling to ignore it now. It was loud, it was frantic, it was like a birdsong. She had not seen any birds on her journey through the forest. A journey through the forest to accomplish… what again?

The yelling included her name.

Sarah blinked. She could hear the yelling now, loud and frantic. She could make out the words the person was yelling, too.

“Sarah! Where are you? Answer me! Sarah!”

The voice sounded familiar. She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. Twice, the song pulled her back into the slumber, but the yelling shocked her out of it. She was Sarah. The person was looking for her. Her, and Kobs. Her, Kobs, and the person in the tree.

Sarah gasped. The person was almost fully absorbed again, this time the bark was not taking any chances. It was moving much quicker now, overtaking the person with gusto. Sarah moved to stop it, but found that she could not. She was stuck, bark wrapped around her like a straightjacket. Her eyes found the ground, where Kobs was batting the bark away with his tiny blade.

“ Sarah !”

“Over here!” She shouted back, struggling against her bonds. The bark crept up her shoulders, tugging her closer to the tree. She yelled in frustration, kicking her feet against the trunk, trying to keep her body away from the tree. She tensed her torso, attempting to burst through the bark. It creaked and groaned, tightening around her as she struggled.

The singing grew louder, drowning out the squawking of Kobs, the groaning of the bark, the yelling of her name. But it did not put her to sleep. No, there was nothing right now that could overcome her panic. The bark had reached her neck now. It was wrapping around her leg. “Shut up, trees!” She snapped, kicking again.

The sounds of pounding feet drew near. “Help!” Sarah yelled.

Her eyes found the creature once more. It had a large, wrinkled head, atop a body that was only double its size. Large, pointed, almost human ears sat on the sides of its head, and it’s eyelids covered little eyes. Of course, all of these features were dwarfed by the size of it’s bulbous nose, and plump, thick bottom lip. A tiny red cap sat upon its wrinkled head.

“ Sarah!”

“Help! Please help!” She twisted in her bindings, trying to inch closer to the creature. A name popped into her head, and without thinking, she said it. “Hoggle! Hoggle, can you hear me?”
Hoggle did not respond. She could not remember how she knew him, but she had the feeling that they were friends, of a sort. He slumbered on, oblivious to the yelling from Sarah or the squeaking from Kobs.

Sarah panicked. With a momentary burst of energy, she flung her arms wide, breaking through the bark with a mighty CRACK! Black bark flew everywhere, some larger pieces almost landing on Kobs and crushing him. The trees stopped singing, and let out a horrific shriek that blasted through Sarah’s brain, forcing her to fall to one knee as her hands clapped over her ears. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think. The sound was overwhelming.

Dimly, she was aware of her name being screamed. It sounded more hurried now, more… scared. She was unsure of what the shrieking trees could do, but she knew she had to move. Though it was a struggle, she opened her eyes, seeing Hoggle unconscious within the tree’s grasp, and Kobs crying out on the ground. Sarah pushed herself to her feet, wrenching her hands away from her ears, and scrabbling for purchase amidst the bark around Hoggle. Her ears ached from the input, feeling as though they might burst, but Sarah forced her fingers to grip the bark and pull .  Her eyes stung from the pain, tears filling up and pouring over, obscuring her vision. She couldn’t cry now. She had to free him!

This bark was thicker, having been growing for longer. It was pulling him in, it was so close to absorbing him completely. Sarah tugged nevertheless, determined to free Hoggle and ask him how she knew him.

A hand covered hers. She yelped, turning to face her new captor. Mismatched eyes met hers, filled with worry and determination. He towered over her kneeling form, almost like a barrier from the shrieking. Sarah instantly felt safer.

“What took you so long?” she whispered. She could see his eyes light up in relief.

“Apologies, love,” he murmured back.

The King placed his other hand on the tree.

A pulse of light scattered through the forest, flying straight through Sarah’s abdomen. She stumbled back in shock. The King did not look away from her as the trees went silent. The branches stopped shaking, the trees becoming as lifeless as one would expect from a tree. He did not look away as the leaves stopped rustling, or as the bark fell away from Hoggle and he collapsed to the ground with an “oomph!”

“Hoggle!” Sarah said, scrambling forward to help him sit up. He blinked his beady eyes up at her, before bleating and grabbing her shoulders.

“Sarah!” he exclaimed in horror. “What are you doin’ back here?”

His voice was scratchy and nasally, sounding a bit like an untuned trumpet. It resonated through her head like a perfectly placed chord. Images of Hoggle flashed before her eyes, before fading to nothing. She blinked.

“Back here?” Sarah said. “I don’t remember ever coming here in the first place. These god-awful trees don’t seem like they want me here, anyway.”

“I meant here , Sarah! In The Labyrinth! You didn’t make a deal with that rat bastard, did you?”

“She did, in fact,” the King said from behind them. Hoggle whipped around. “Lovely to see you again, Hog Brains.”

“It’s Hoggle,” he snapped, stepping around Sarah. “And here I was, hoping you wouldn’t bother with me again for the rest of my miserable life.”

“‘Ello, yer ‘ighness!” A squeak came from the ground. Everyone looked down to see a little black puffball shaking excitedly, it’s head turned to his King.

“Oh, Kobs!” Sarah said, plunging her hands underneath the miniature goblin. “I didn’t mean to knock you off my shoulder, I’m so sorry!”

“It’s a’right, miz! Th’ Kings ‘ere now!”

“Yes, hello Kobs. I see you are helping Miss Williams through the Labyrinth. Seems like my subjects just cannot stay away from the lovely Sarah, after all.”

“Sarah, why are we even talking to him? He’s only going to make this situation worse!” Hoggle snapped, attempting to tug her away from the King.
“What situation?”

Hoggle blinked at her. “Well, I’m assumin’ that he has someone as a prisoner.”

Sarah gasped. “What?” She whirled to face the King. “You don’t have anyone prisoner, do you?”

The King’s gaze was unreadable. “I have many prisoners, precious. That is the life of a King.”

Sarah frowned. “That doesn’t seem like a very stable form of government, to have so many prisoners.”

“Well, the life of a King is always dangerous. And when one has so many subjects, one will find that crime rates tend to go up with the population.”

“Yes, but shouldn’t you be incorporating means for reform and—?”  

“Sarah!” Hoggle bleated suddenly. “Are you feeling alright?”

Sarah turned to him. “Of course. Why do you ask?”

“Well,” The King interrupted, “lovely Sarah here is in quite the predicament. She seems to have lost her memory. All of it.”

“ WHAT?” Hoggle roared. “What happened?”

“The details are not specific. All you need to know is that she does not remember anything, including you, or her other friends, and we need to help her get home.”

Hoggle stared at the King. For a moment, it seemed as if he was going to keep yelling. It would have made sense to Sarah if he did. He seemed like the type. Instead, he said, “You said we .”

“I did,” the King answered simply.

“You are going to help her?”

“Why, of course!” the King said, sounding offended. “What kind of King would I be if I did not help my subjects when they needed it?”

“Oh,” Sarah said, in realization. “I am one of your subjects, aren’t I?”

The three of them fell silent, looking at her. “Yes,” Hoggle said suddenly, causing Kobs and the King to whip and face him. “You are one of his subjects. You are.”

“That makes sense!” Sarah said, relieved. “So I must live around here, right? Maybe if I see my home, my memory will come back.”

“Yes,” Hoggle said, glaring at the King. “We should return her home, immediately.”

“Ah, not yet.” The King said, reaching a hand out to help Sarah to her feet. She accepted. His fingers were long, slender, and so gentle underneath his leather gloves. She could not help but linger as he pulled his hand away. A look of surprise and delight flashed before his eyes, before turning back to the cold glare he was giving Hoggle.

“Why not?” Hoggle demanded. “What is stopping us from getting her home so her memory can come back?”

“Her father, Hogboy.”

“Hoggle!”

“My father?” Sarah wondered aloud. An image of a well groomed older man filled her brain. It was not a face she recognized, but one she could identify as probably her father. 

“Yes, dearest,” the King purred. “He is in my castle, awaiting your arrival. We should hurry. In 12 hours, he will not be there anymore.”

“Why not?” Sarah asked, brow furrowing.

“Oh, he is going on a trip with some of my other subjects. One that is truly transformative for one’s physical being. You are the one who recommended he take it, actually. I’m sure he would love to see you before he leaves,” the King told her, placing his hand on her back as he guided her forward through the forest.

“Can’t you just teleport her there and make this easier?” Hoggle grumbled, walking alongside her. “Give the poor girl a break.”

“This woman does not need someone like me to do things for her, Hogmeister. She is capable of getting herself to my castle, with a little bit of help, of course. After all, who would want to rob Sarah of her favorite thing in the world?”

“What is my favorite thing in the world?” Sarah asked him, looking into his blue and green eyes. She could see a part of him was disappointed that she did not remember, but he answered anyway, a smile gracing his beautiful features.

“Adventure, Sarah.”