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Chapter Text

As a child, Sarah Williams thought of herself as brave, daring, and terribly adventurous. She often boasted that if she came face-to-face with a ferocious dragon or some other sort of man-eating beast she wouldn't be remotely frightened. In fact, she claimed she would be able to defeat the foul creature without breaking a sweat.

However, to everyone else Sarah Williams was stubborn, single-minded, and out to make trouble. The neighbors had quickly learnt that any attempts to reason with her were futile. For one so young, she was stubborn as stubborn could be. So in the end everyone (Sarah's very own parents included) simply decided to let the child run free. To say it more accurately: they gave up.

All except for one.

"That really is quite dangerous, you know.” A smooth, baritone voice drifted up with the cool spring breeze, reaching small ears high above.

Sarah didn't falter for a moment. She stayed steady, standing with her arms splayed out like a tightrope walker as she balanced on the branch of a tall tree. The other day she had spotted a bird's nest and decided it was her duty to investigate and make sure the new family was settling in well. They were the first winter birds to make their home in the neighborhood since the season began, and she didn’t want them to feel excluded from the community.

"I'll be fine!" The answer came quickly—it was one she was used to giving.

"What, exactly, are you attempting to do?" There was a wry curiosity to the stranger’s tone.

"I'm checking on the new bird family!" Sarah responded as she reached over her head and hoisted herself onto the branch just below the one holding the nest. "They just moved in."

"I see."

Silence fell for a moment. Sarah guessed the stranger had gone away and left her to her own devices, as they always did, and carefully inched closer to the nest.

"Sarah,” The voice rang up from the ground again. She blinked, her eyes flickering away from her target for a moment. When she didn’t see the source of the voice immediately, she looked forward again. “Do you know what species of bird makes that nest?"

"Nuh-uh."

Very slowly, Sarah raised herself onto her tip-toes. She was almost at eye level with the nest. If she could just get a little bit higher...

An ear-piercing screech disrupted the still air. A snowy white barn owl came shooting out of the nest and dove straight for Sarah, large talons outstretched and ready to deliver damage to the one who had dared intrude upon her family. Sarah gasped and reared back, losing her balance and falling from the tree.

She didn't scream as she fell, only squeezed her eyes shut and braced herself for impact. However, before she could hit the ground a strong pair of arms deftly snatched her out of the air. She was tucked carefully and safely into a warm, solid chest. Surprised, she looked up to peer at her rescuer.

Two mismatched eyes met her own. One iris was blown wide, making the surrounding color almost completely black. The other iris was nothing more than a pinpoint, and the color was a shocking electric blue.

Sarah quickly realized that this man was not one of her neighbors.

"I did warn you," the stranger drawled.

Sarah was stunned into speechlessness. This man was by far the strangest she had ever seen in her few living years. He wore a lot of makeup around his eyes (he even put it in his eyebrows!) and his hair was messy and wild, reminding her of a ferocious lion. He was captivating and, in Sarah's eyes, super cool looking. She wondered if he was a rock star. Or from a circus.

"Didn't your parents ever tell you it is very dangerous to disturb a bird's nest?" queried the stranger.

"Mommy and daddy don't talk to me all that much," she babbled amiably. "Mommy’s always gone for her acting jobs and daddy works late nights at the office."

The handsome stranger’s glossed lips pursed. "Who watches over you, then?"

"Merlin!" piped Sarah, pointing over her shoulder to a mass curled up in the shade at the base of a nearby tree.

The man raised a brow, glancing to the young sheepdog who raised his head upon hearing his name and wagged his tail. He stuck out a long, pink tongue and offered a friendly bark in greeting.

Shaking his head, the stranger tsked and gently lowered Sarah onto her feet. Now the little girl could get a good look at her rescuer.

He was even more strange-looking than she had initially thought. In addition to his otherworldly features he also wore a long, dark cape and midnight-encrusted armor. He posed with his hands on his hips, looking down at her over the bridge of a long, aquiline nose. She thought he was quite tall, but then again just about everyone seems tall when one is so little.

"Are you a prince?" she blurted, her tiny voice raised high in excitement.

The man chuckled humorously, shaking his head. "No, love. But you were rather close with your guess. Well done." With a gloved hand, he reached out and patted her head affectionately.

Reaching up, Sarah wrapped her tiny hands around his wrist. He watched her with a bemused expression as she maneuvered his hand down (he had to crouch slightly to accommodate) and inspected his gloves.

"What's this stuff?" she asked. His hand was facing upwards, fingers slightly curled, and she was tracing his palm with little fingers. When she held up her hand her skin glittered in the sunlight.

"Magic," he told her. Her eyes snapped up to meet his, shining brightly. "Well, the remnants of it. Where magic happens this substance is usually left behind."

"Show me! Show me! I wanna see the magic!" Sarah exclaimed with childish exuberance, clutching his wrist even tighter and bouncing like an overeager puppy.

"Be patient, pet," he chided, grinning toothily.

Instantly her mood changed. A dark cloud took over her expression, furrowing her brows. She pouted, jutting out her lower lip almost comically. "But I wanna see!" Balling her hands into tiny fists, she stomped her foot hard against the ground and raised her voice until she was shrieking. "Show me!"

His expression darkened, becoming hard. "Sarah," his deep tone held a warning edge that forced her to pause. "Do not command me. I shall show you my powers only when you prove to me that you are ready to witness them."

"But I am ready!" she whined petulantly, shoulders sagging.

"No, love. You're absolutely filthy. You've ruined your clothing playing around in the mud." The man raised a sculpted brow, shifting his booted heels as he regarded her clothing with obvious distaste.

Sarah looked down at herself. It was true that her well-worn overalls and undershirt were caked with dirt and mud. She had been playing since morning, and children her age rarely cared about keeping their clothing clean and hole-free.

"Come, come. Let's go and get you cleaned up." The stranger extended his hand to her in offering, palm up.

"I'm not supposed to let people I don't know come into the house," she said dubiously, now eyeing the offered hand warily, as if she had not been carefully studying it just moments before.

"It's nice to know your parents taught you something," he muttered, lips pursed and eyes flashing with barely concealed contempt.

"That's how people get robbed," she clarified in a robotic way, one that indicated that that particular lesson had been drilled into her mind again and again.

The man closed his eyes and expelled a sharp breath, reaching back up to pinch at the bridge of his nose. Sarah had seen her father do that many times before—it usually meant that he was annoyed about something. She wondered what was annoying the stranger.

After visibly collecting himself, the man tried again. "Well, Sarah, I am not a stranger to you. I am your friend. Now, let's get you cleaned up." Once again, he held out his hand in offering.

Overjoyed at finally making a friend, Sarah grinned and nodded quickly. She eagerly took the offered hand and asked in a bubbly voice, "What's your name?"

"Jareth," he responded. A small smile graced his thin lips as he regarded her with a bright twinkle in his eye before looking ahead and leading her back to her home.

Chapter Text

There was another stir. Jareth perked up as he felt it. It ghosted its way through the Labyrinth, blowing life into the ancient walls and invigorating its inhabitants. It breezed through the Goblin City as well, exciting its citizens with the promise of a runner. Oh, how the goblins loved a strong stir. It energized their veins as it buzzed through their bodies. They began to mutter and gossip rapidly, anticipating the excitement of an escapade to the Above.

The stir had much the same effect on the goblins as it had on their ruler. It sent goosebumps racing across his skin and magic coursing through his blood. His armor momentarily materialized over the casual wear he wore while lounging on his throne. He grinned, tapping his riding crop against his leg as he reached out with his powers, detecting the size and strength of the stir. He inhaled slowly, closing his eyes and feeling for it. This stir was a large one.

A stir meant a child would soon be wished away. Most of the time it was concentrated on a single person or household. Only rarely was it larger. Many small bursts came sporadically around Aboveground holidays or when a rowdy group of kids decided to play nefarious pranks on their neighbors.

This stir, however, was the largest he could ever recall feeling. The King of the Goblins could easily imagine it was caused by a larger group (most likely consisting of delinquent teenagers) having a ball terrorizing the streets.

He was then, understandably, quite surprised and extremely puzzled by what he saw when he decided to journey Aboveground to investigate the cause of the stir.

It was only a single girl. A very small one, too. She looked to have only reached about four or five years of her mortal life. It was difficult to tell with humans so young. He cast his eyes and his power around her, unable to believe at first that it was this little child causing such a large disruption.

In his avian form, he followed her for hours. She roamed about her grassy domain in the same manner of a wild animal; free and unrestricted. He watched her play on grassy hills, climb trees, and run alongside her mop of a dog until evening began to descend over her world. She did have a house to return to when evening came, but she was alone until long after she had retired to her bed. Other than her being alone for a disturbing amount of time, there was nothing about her that appeared to be unusual.

Most of the time, he would have stopped his investigation there. The King would have gone back to his castle and patiently waited for someone to wish the child away. However, this time he found himself fascinated. Fixated. He couldn't understand how such a little slip of a mortal girl could be the cause of a stir so large. He became determined to find the reason and so he decided to stay until an explanation presented itself.

Most often, the stir originated from a parent or an older sibling. Someone close to the soon-to-be-wished-away-child. Usually it was the person directly responsible for that child, who resented their responsibility and wished to be rid of it. Such was the fickle nature of humans. They wished for a child, strained their bodies to bear and birth it, and then resented it for the hardships it placed upon their lives. He wondered how their minds so easily disregarded the facts of parenthood until it was thrust upon them.

This little girl had no brothers or sisters. Her parents did not hate or resent her, but seemed to barely care for her at all. She spoke with them only in the mornings, sat hunched over a bowl of brightly colored, small circle-shaped biscuits soaked in cold milk as her parents made every effort to ignore each other. Her father left first, patting his daughter on the head and delivering a relatively friendly if not distancing squeeze to his wife’s elbow. She followed not soon after, placing a wet, lipstick-stained kiss on her daughter’s chubby cheek before departing.

He watched as her feet dangled from her chair. She finished up her breakfast alone and left her dish where it was. She ran over to the door, calling for her dog before bounding outside. She got about halfway down the street, he observed with no lack of amusement, before gasping and doubling back to the house in order to bolt the lock.

She spent most of her days at a large and expansively green park with her pet. She didn't seem to have any close friends, but she didn't have any enemies either. In fact, she elected to spend most of her time alone. Only rarely would she venture over to the playground and join other children in games of tag or hide-and-seek. But even then, when the other kids were called home she stayed, playing alone until twilight.

Casting his eyes away from the child, the Goblin King began searching around the neighborhood. He listened intently to neighbor’s conversations about the girl (quickly learning her name was Sarah) and tirelessly, fruitlessly tried to find someone who held even an inkling of animosity for the child.

In the end, after combing through every household, he could not find a single person who despised Sarah's existence.

Frustrated after his tiring and wholly unsuccessful search, he turned his gaze back to her. Perhaps he could locate the issue if he observed her more closely. 

In time, after having truly focused his attention on her, Jareth found she was exceptionally clever and beautiful for a human child. Her tangled hair was a lovely shade of chocolaty brown and she had a cherubic face that always wore a lively expression. It was her eyes that drew him to her most; they were a deep forest green and endlessly filled with wonder.

 He learned she was an adventurous child. Only when she had explored the whole expanse of her favorite park did she turn to her role-play. He watched her for hours on end, constantly finding himself wondering how it was this young child harbored such a vast imagination. She was animated and joyful as she acted out her made-up scenes of saving animals stuck in trees or running through the green fields in chase of some wicked beast; a beast which, when captured, she always tamed instead of slaying.

 She was the happiest, gentlest, and most carefree child he had ever laid his eyes on.

So who in this world would want her gone? Even after days and days of observation he could find no answer. He watched her tirelessly, retiring back to his kingdom once evening fell over her lands so that he might have a chance of governing his own. He was woefully behind on fulfilling his duties, and the growing mountain of paperwork on his desk was a testament to that fact.

One night, long after she had returned to her home and crawled into bed to sleep, he stayed behind. He had decided that this would be the last time he would watch her. He thought perhaps something had gone wrong with his magic; the stir had been a fluke. It had never happened before, but what other explanation was there? He had watched this girl for nearly a fortnight and still was without even the faintest idea as to why his magic was telling him she was the source of the stir.

Perched high on a tree in his owl form in her front yard, Jareth watched Sarah's father return home. He looked weary; his shoulders slumped and his shoes dragged on the ground as he walked. Dropping his briefcase and suit jacket by the door, he tugged his necktie off and padded over to a worn leather recliner. He collapsed into it, sighing wearily.

The mother returned home about an hour later in a completely different state. Jareth watched as she climbed out of a yellow car that had an illumined sign on the top of it reading “Taxi”. She wobbled up the driveway drunkenly, holding her heeled shoes in one hand, and threw the front door open with a whooping laugh.

The King watched Sarah’s father rise slowly from his chair. He stormed over to his wife with his anger accentuated in the red blotches on his face. His wife's pretty smile immediately dimmed. Only a few moments later, shouts and angry words were being exchanged between the pair. Listening in, Jareth did not find any of their arguments to be focused around their daughter. They argued only about the lateness of her arrival home, his lack of promotions, her drunkenness…on and on it went.

With an inward sigh, Jareth spread his wings and flew to the tree directly outside Sarah's bedroom window. He would peer in at the sleeping girl for just a moment, wish her luck in her short mortal life, and then leave her for good. He could not spend any more time than he already had watching her. His kingdom needed him to return to his duties posthaste.

He gazed into her window and was instantly shocked by the sight before him. The brave little girl who dreamt of slaying dragons, winning fearsome battles, and taming giant beasts was lying in her bed, curled on her side in a fetal position. Crystal-like tears gently dripped down her rounded cheeks, and her little chest heaved and shook with the force of her silent sobs.

That was when he felt it: a stir so strong it shook his very core and nearly caused him to fall from his perch. He realized it was no neighbor or family member who wished for her to disappear. It was her; Sarah herself. She wished, with every fiber of her being, to be spirited away from her home. To be taken to a place of magic and dreams. It was her who felt unwanted, her who wished to go away.

A strange, crushing pressure inside Jareth's chest bubbled up and choked his throat. There was not a doubt in his mind in that moment. He knew there was absolutely no way he could ever leave this child alone.

He would be the one to protect her.

Chapter Text

If someone peered out past their curtain-lined window at just the right moment, they would be treated to a curious sight. A small, mud-crusted child jumped over train tracks, giggling and whooping while a creature not of this world followed behind. Cape fluttering with the breeze, each step of his booted heel did not appear to make contact with the ground. He walked upon the air, the dirt and gravel under his feet remaining undisturbed. Trailing behind the strange pair was an overly-fluffy sheepdog, tongue lolling and tail wagging as he walked. 

It was a pity no one saw, but they likely wouldn’t have believed their eyes. Magic was fickle when deciding who may look upon it. 

Closing the front door behind them, Jareth made sure it was properly bolted before turning to Sarah. She rocked on her heels, doe eyes watching him curiously. 

"Why don’t you go clean up?” he asked.

“Then will you show me the magic?”

He fought a smirk. She didn’t easily forget the promises made to her, did she?

“Perhaps. If you’re good. I don’t want a speck of dirt left on you.” 

"Deal!" Sarah didn’t waste a second more, scurrying up the stairs at record speed. Jareth promptly used his magic to mop up the trail of dirt she left in her wake. He heard a door upstairs slam shut and nodded in satisfaction when the bath began running. 

Pacing slowly, he began his investigation of the house. It wasn't impeccably neat, but it was kept relatively tidy. Sarah’s morning bowl of cereal was still sat upon the table, waiting to be scooped into the dishwasher by one of her parents. 

Eyes rovering over the decor, he decided the modern Aboveground style was rather atrocious. He craved the comfort of his throne, though when he tried out the Lazy Boy recliner he’d watched Mr. Williams sink into...he could admit a particular appeal. 

Hopping out of the chair, he surveyed the frames of photographs around the home. There were far too few pictures of Sarah on display, in his opinion. Most of the photographs depicted vacations and outings that appeared to have been taken before Sarah’s birth. 

Meandering his way upstairs, he passed the washroom just in time to hear the water stop. It wasn't long before a tiny voice began singing loud and off-key. Smiling to himself, he walked further down the hall and peered into her bedroom. 

There was no doubt as to whom this room belonged. It looked as though a Toy Bomb had been detonated inside of it. Carefully wading through the mess, he spotted everything from puzzle books to full-size dolls. Her parents didn't pay any attention to her and it was glaringly obvious they tried to make up for their incompetence with many materialistic gifts. 

"No good comes from spoiling a child like this," he tsked. 

After pausing for a moment to make sure he could still hear Sarah's voice, he glanced to her dresser. 

"She'll need nightwear," he murmured, only just realizing this. Making his way over (and almost tripping over a board game) he opened up a drawer and peered inside. 

"Now this is just dreadful." His lips turned into a scowl as he picked up the first offending garment at the top of a pile. It was a one-piece footie decorated with cartoon unicorns. 

"Is this an insult?" he muttered darkly as he kept finding more hideous garments within the drawer. The most offensive of which depicted fairies grinning wide with sparkles in their eyes.

"This simply won't do." Flinging the pajamas back into the drawer, Jareth placed his hands on his hips with a huff.

Conjuring a crystal, the King dropped it into the drawer. In the blink of an eye, all of her disgusting cotton garments were replaced by ones made of the finest silk. Grinning, he plucked one out of the drawer. 

"Much, much better." Still grinning, he made his way back to the bathroom door. He placed the clothing on the floor and rapped his knuckles against the wood.

"I'm leaving nightwear for you outside the door, alright?" 

"Okay!"

"Are you almost finished?"

"Yeah-huh. Wait in my room!" The order was followed by the sound of splashing and then the loud gurgle of water leaving through a drain. 

Turning on his heel, Jareth did as he was told. He perched himself on her vanity chair and surveyed the catastrophic room. 

Walking in a few moments later, Sarah was quick to ask, "Where did these pajamas come from?"

Jareth turned his attention to her and smiled. He had gifted her a ruffled top and a matching pair of shorts. They were emerald green and lined with a bow in the center of her chest and two more; one on the outside of each leg. She looked quite adorable. 

"I summoned them for you. I replaced the whole drawer," he informed her. 

"It's so slippery," she said, running her hands over the fabric. 

He chuckled. "It's silk, pet." 

"Can you make all my clothes with it?" Sarah asked excitedly. 

Jareth raised a brow. His voice took a haughty edge once more as he said, "Sarah, one must always give thanks after receiving a generous gift."

"Why?" she quickly challenged. 

He blinked, caught by surprise.  

"Because it is proper," he offered. 

"Why?" Sarah repeated, crossing her arms defiantly. 

Jareth felt an instant flash of annoyance. Then he paused. Now that he considered it, she was asking a fairly sensible question. 

"Well," he began after a moment's thought, "one must thank another for a gift because it conveys their gratitude. In addition, showing such gratitude may prompt the return of more gifts or favors."

Sarah took a moment to contemplate his explanation. "So if I want you to give me more things I need to say thanks?"

He nodded. "More or less."

"Then thank you!" she said cheerily, a large smile blooming on her face. 

Jareth couldn't help but chuckle. He was beginning to enjoy her candor. After a moment he tilted his head, watching as she continued to stand in the doorway. 

"Now, Sarah, what are we going to do about this?" he asked, gesturing to the cluttered floor. 

"I don't wanna clean it up," she quickly snapped. 

"Really now?" The King shrugged nonchalantly. "Well, I don't feel like breaking my neck trying to navigate this mess, so I shall clean it."

"You will?" Sarah asked, delighted. "Do it with magic!"

Jareth scoffed. "I will not waste my powers cleaning." He reached out and grabbed a plastic baby doll off the floor. Rising, he crossed to set it on a shelf.

"She goes in the toy box," Sarah commented. 

"As I am the one cleaning, I'll put things where I deem they should go." He picked another toy off of the floor and crossed the room. "You can move it, if you like," he informed her. 

Grumbling, Sarah snatched the doll and put it in the toy box. She also plucked the toy Jareth had just placed on her dresser and placed it on a display shelf. This pattern continued until, with a frustrated huff, Sarah ordered Jareth to sit. 

Settling back into the vanity chair he watched, amused, as she proceeded to tidy her entire room. 

"Well done, Sarah. Your room looks much better." 

Smirking, Jareth watched Sarah realize that he had tricked her. Her little face turned a glorious shade of red. 

Before she could spout the angry words that he was sure would come, he asked, "Shall I reward you?"

The young girl instantly perked up. Her anger was quickly replaced by overbounding excitement. 

"Come now, lie down in your bed," Jareth ordered. 

Sarah practically dove into the mattress. It was amusing to watch her frantically wiggle under the sheets. Once she was settled with only her little head peeking up from under the covers, the king carefully sat on the edge of her bed and rested his back against the headboard. 

Slowly, he extended out a single gloved hand. Glancing down to her, he saw that her doe eyes were following his every movement. He could practically feel the excitement radiating off of her. 

Fighting the urge to chuckle, he concentrated his magic and flicked his wrist. A small crystal appeared in his hand. Sarah exclaimed and sat up, but he held up his other hand to stop her. "Not yet." 

She looked to him and he inclined his head back toward the crystal. When she looked at it again, it began to expand rapidly like a balloon. She gasped and giggled when it softly popped and rained down a shower of glitter. 

Once the cloud dissipated, Sarah's eyes widened at what Jareth held in his hand. Under a glass pavilion, a lovely brown-haired girl in a white sugarplum dress twirled to an enchanting melody. 

"Do you like it?" Jareth queried, handing her the trinket. 

Captivated, the little girl gingerly took it into her hands and stared inside. For a long time she simply sat watching the tiny dancer who so resembled herself twirl around. 

"I love it," she whispered. Sarah then looked up to him with a smile that brightened the whole room. "Thank you." 

Jareth felt something strange stir in his chest. Even stranger, he leaned down and pressed his lips to her forehead without a second thought. "You are quite welcome, Sarah."

"I wanna put it on my nightstand," she said, trying to reach over him to place it down. 

"Allow me." He took the music box from her and gently placed it on the edge of her nightstand. 

He turned back to her and reflexively jolted when he felt a real pressure on his chest. When he looked down in confusion, he saw that she had rested her head upon him as if he were her pillow. 

For a tense moment, he wasn't quite sure how to react. He was not used to physical contact in the form of affection. Especially from a child. 

With a sigh, he finally decided there was not much he could do about it. Snapping his fingers, he magicked his armor away and replaced it with a flowy white poet's shirt. He even made sure to shift his amulet away from her head. 

"Comfortable?" he queried wryly. 

"Mmm-hmm." Came a distracted reply. Sarah's eyes were still trained on her present. "What's the music?"

"Something I composed myself," he informed her a bit proudly. 

"I want to hear the song." She yawned, her voice beginning to soften. 

"I haven't written a song for it yet," he told her. "When I do, I'll sing it for you."

"I wanna hear you sing now," she murmured. "Please?" 

"Very well, but you have to close your eyes." He ran his fingers through her hair, helping to untangle it with a bit of magic. 

He watched as her eyes slipped closed and then began to sing. It was a song she had undoubtedly never heard before; a Fae lullaby. His mother had often sung it to lull him to sleep many years ago.

It didn't take much time for her to fall asleep. She was unconscious long before he finished his song. 

Gently, he moved her head off of his chest and onto a down-filled pillow before rising from the bed. He tucked her sheets around her allowed his gaze to linger for just a moment on her peaceful face. After a moment of simply watching her, he felt a bittersweet smile form on his lips. 

He had to leave her now and for good. He couldn't stay with her any longer. He had a kingdom and she had her mortal life. He only hoped that now she would finally be at ease. 

Before he could think twice about his actions, he placed a tender kiss to her forehead and, with one last fleeting look, turned into his owl form and flew out her open window.

Chapter Text

The stir came two months later and the speed at which Jareth found himself answering Sarah’s call could only be described as ridiculously eager. Despite the promise he had made himself to leave her be, it had been impossible to focus on his duties. His kingdom was in worse shape than ever, and a rumor was circulating that his goblins were conspiring with the chickens to form an uprising. 

To put it simply; he had far more important things to focus on. A single mortal girl had no business occupying the headspace of the King of the Goblins. And yet...when her call came he was all too eager to answer.

He appeared in the shadows of her room. It was late into the night in the mortal realm. Two familiar voices could be heard yelling downstairs, soon followed by a crash. Jareth imagined a vase or something of the like had been thrown against the wall and shattered. 

He cast his eyes to the bed and was unsurprised to see a form huddled under the sheets. Sarah was softly crying, curled up in the exact same position he had seen her in many nights ago. 

Watching her in distress yet again sent a pang through his chest, which was quickly followed by a wave blood-boiling anger. Why couldn't her parents see for one second how their bickering and self-obsession was hurting this sweet child? How did they only think of themselves and never of the pain they were putting their daughter through?

Quelling the rage inside of him, as it would do nothing to aid Sarah in this moment, he stepped forward and out of the shadows. With a flick of his wrist, the music box he had gifted her came to life and began to play. The young girl flinched at the sudden sound and turned around to stare at the box with a puzzled expression.

"If a brave heroine must cry, then she should request a shoulder to cry upon." Jareth spoke softly so as not to spook her. 

Sarah looked up from her music box. She did not seem surprised to see him even after such a long while. However, her reaction surprised him. Instead of continuing to cry or denying she had even done so in the first place, she raised a small hand to her face and wiped her tears away. 

"A hero never shows her weakness to others," she said in a small but definitive voice. 

Jareth was momentarily startled into speechlessness. She was so young, and yet so full of determination. She kindled a fire as hot as any sun within her chest. It was what drew him in like a moth to a flame. 

"Of course. My apologies." His tone, while formal, was edged with kindness. He strode over to Sarah's bedside and kneeled in front of her. "However, my Lady may talk of her troubles if she wishes to. Every great hero sometimes must turn to a friend."

Sarah sat up in bed, contemplating his offer. He allowed her as much time as she needed. He would not rush her. Slowly, her gaze found its way back to the music box. The little dancer twirled with the music. But even as she watched it, it was clear her mind was far away.

After a length of time, her voice carried over to him in a whisper, "I'm scared." 

Her admission did not come as a surprise. 

"What are you scared of, pet?" When she hesitated, he quietly pressed, "Are you scared your mother and father will hurt each other?" 

Sarah looked to her lap. Her fingers twisted and curled into her bedspread. When she bowed her head he was sure he had hit a bullseye. 

"I'm scared they don't love me," she softly admitted. 

Oh... Jareth slowly inhaled, his throat constricting. Love. Love was one of those human emotions he never quite understood. He had firsthand experience with obsession and he could admit to affection, but love was too foreign. Love was almost exclusively a human emotion. It was too complicated; even by Fae standards. Love was completely irrational, blinding, and mind-controlling. The Fae people had long given up on trying to understand the concept. In many communities it was considered dangerous. 

He himself had, on many occasions, boasted that he had never harbored love for anything. He loved nothing and no one-- not even his crown. 

Yet here he was, faced with an entirely pure form of love. 

The love a child craved from her parents. 

Jareth didn't know what to say. He had to admit to himself that he hadn't once observed what he could consider a true sign of love from Mr. and Mrs. Williams towards their daughter. 

Surely they did love her, he reasoned desperately. But, then again, perhaps not. There was no written rule that a parent must love their child. Raise and care for them, yes, but love...

As Sarah gazed into his eyes, her own pleading with him for reassurance, he felt his heart splinter. 

Without thinking, the King reached out his arms and wrapped the girl in a tender embrace. 

"Oh, you precious thing," he murmured. Sarah pressed her tiny face into the crook of his neck and wrapped her arms around him tightly. It was not long before he felt searing tears fall upon his skin. 

He simply didn't understand. Sarah was such a perfect child. She was sweet, compassionate, and darling. She enjoyed playing and laughing and exploring the outdoors. How could one find her any less than entertaining? Why couldn't her parents realize the blessing they had been given? What did they want from her? Did they want a mannered child? Such only took a basic level of teaching. Hell, even he had been able to coach her into giving a simple "thank you."

Jareth sighed as the little form in his arms continued to cry. It was no use to try and lie to her. Sarah knew the truth. 

Adults so often underestimated how perceptive children could be. Sarah knew, without anyone having to explain it to her, that her parents did not truly love her. 

With another heavy sigh, he shifted so he could lift Sarah into the air before he settled down with his back against her headboard. He cradled the girl in his lap as she sniffled, wrapping his arms around her protectively. 

"They don't deserve you," he murmured as he placed a gentle kiss to the crown of her head. 

The king felt a sudden and intense wave of hatred for her parents. Why was it they had been blessed with a healthy and beautiful child when his kind had difficulty even conceiving? 

Any Fae family would give everything they had for a little girl as perfect as Sarah. 

Inhaling slowly, Jareth raised a hand and ran it through the young girl's silky hair. Her tears were slowly ebbing away, leaving her cheeks stained red. Her dark lashes drooped with exhaustion and her body slowly began to go limp in his arms.

Any Fae family would give everything they had for her...but Sarah deserved so much better than an ordinary home. 

She deserved the best. 

She deserved the world.

She deserved to be a princess. 

Yes , Jareth thought. 

Finally exhausted from her crying, Sarah drifted into a fretful sleep in his arms. He slowly, carefully, adjusted their positions until he could tuck her beneath her sheets without disturbing her. He stayed by her side a little longer, gently running his hand over her back. 

If her parents do not want her, he thought, then I shall make her mine.

Chapter Text

Jareth had never thought babysitting would be quite so… taxing. Sarah's parents had gone away on holiday and the babysitter they hired to watch over little Sarah was a withered prune of a lady who he was fairly certain was either a narcoleptic or just plain old . Either way, the woman was always napping on some surface in the Williams' home and effectively leaving Sarah to her own devices.

Which was never good.

Several months had passed since Jareth had decided he would have Sarah as his little princess. However, he wasn't going to kidnap the child. No, he would do nothing of the sort. He would have Sarah come to his kingdom of her own will and commit to it fully. She was not yet ready.

Because even though her parents neglected and did not love her, she still loved them with all her heart.

Love is dangerous. Love makes us weak.

Jareth visited her often. Very often. As in almost every other day often.

Sarah's loneliness had slowly ebbed away. The first couple weeks or so he found himself answering many a stir that came from her, but now they were much less frequent.

Sarah said she was happy she had made a new friend.

Jareth said he liked being her friend. She was a good friend to have, too.

If not for the fact that she had a seemingly endless supply of natural energy.

It had become routine that the moment he arrived to visit they would play a game of her choosing outdoors (if the weather permitted). Then, they would come inside and play some more. Sometimes they would play board games, all of which were pathetically easy ( Candy Land? Seriously ?) . From the moment he arrived nearly up until the time she was to go to bed they played games. He enjoyed himself and Sarah seemed to have an endless amount of fun.

But her activities were completely draining.

If he weren't feeling so completely and utterly exhausted he may have found his current situation amusing. He simultaneously ran a kingdom of rambunctious and pesky goblins, watched over wished away and frightened babes for a maximum of thirteen hours, and mercilessly taunted and tricked every runner that had the misfortune of attempting his labyrinth on a regular basis, but it was a single six year-old child who was zapping every bit of his energy.

"Jareth! Let's play something else!" Sarah's enthusiastic and bubbly voice pierced his ears.

The King of the Goblins groaned at the interruption to the blissful silence he had been permitted to enjoy for a few sacred moments. He had rested himself upon her bed to relax while Sarah cleaned up the mess she had created in the kitchen due to her experiment with FrankenCandy.

Jareth had his arm thrown over his eyes. His body was begging him just a few more minutes' rest. "I am sorry, Sarah mine, but I fear I am exhausted. I shall not be able to play for the rest of tonight." 

"What?" Sarah's voice was petulant. "But you said we were gonna play!"

"Yes, love, but I am too tired to do so now," Jareth responded.

"Alright." Sarah did not sound at all thrilled.

In the few moments of silence that followed Sarah's acquiescence, Jareth felt himself begin to drift into sleep. He sighed blissfully, but that sigh quickly turned into a sharp exhale when he felt a pressure on his chest.

"I'm bored," Sarah whined, climbing on top of him. Her weight was making it difficult to breathe.

Can I not have a moment of peace? Agitated, he  hoped in vain that if he just ignored Sarah she would find her own amusements and leave him be.

No such luck.

"Jareth! I wanna play a game!" Sarah's voice had risen in volume. She bounced painfully on his chest and tugged at his hair.

Her whining, pinching, and prodding continued on mercilessly and Jareth did everything in his power to remain unaffected. He would not give in to her. She was in need of learning a lesson; one does not get what one wants by whining for it.

"Jareth!" She had climbed off of his chest and was now whining and squawking loudly directly into his ear. He could practically feel his eardrum violently vibrating.

His patience snapped.

Bolting upright in bed and seething with anger, Jareth turned a heated glare towards his tormentor.

Only to find her asleep.

He faltered, unable to believe his eyes. She had been yelling at him not four seconds ago!

Yet there she was…curled up next to him and sleeping peacefully. He belatedly realized that she must have expended the rest of her energy trying to rouse him and had effectively tired herself out.

Somehow, he could no longer find it in himself to be upset with her. No, the anger he felt moments ago was completely gone. Chuckling softly and shaking his head, he settled himself back down next to Sarah, brought the blankets up to cover them both, and was finally able to enjoy one of the best night's sleep he had experienced in quite some time.

Only to be woken up by Sarah's bright and jovial face early the next morning.

"Can we play now?" she asked eagerly.

Squinting up at her, he grumbled, "Precious, I think now is a good time to tell you that I am not a morning person."

Chapter Text

"What's that?" asked a curious little voice.

"It's a crystal, nothing more," replied a smooth baritone.

As Sarah climbed her way into the Goblin King's lap he quickly readjusted from his lounging position to accompany her, but the crystal he was toying with never once paused its fluid motion in his hand.

The pair were quiet for a moment. Sarah watched, enthralled, as Jareth danced the crystal over his fingers and under his palm. He glanced at her with mild curiosity, wondering what his little Sarah was expecting to happen.

"I want a crystal," she predictably declared.

"Say your right words," Jareth commanded haughtily.

"Please may I have a crystal?" she amended.

"Let me think… No." Jareth responded casually. With a flick of his wrist, the crystal he had been toying with popped like a bubble.

"What?!" Little Sarah quickly turned to face the King. Her usually kind eyes were alight with indignant rage. "But I said 'please'!"

"And I said 'no'," Jareth responded casually, raising a single sculpted brow.

"But I want one!" she screeched, scrambling off his lap and pounding her little fists into the bed.

Jareth's lip twitched down in displeasure. He did not care to see Sarah act in such a way. "That's too bad, my dear. One, crystals are not to be given out willy-nilly to anyone and everyone. Two, they are much too powerful for one so young. Therefore, no. You may not have one."

He had expected more whining and crying from the now seven year old in his lap. What he got instead surprised him.

Sarah's angry eyes suddenly turned despondent. The tension in her shoulders vanished and she scooted closer until her knees brushed against his leg. She folded her tiny hands together as if in prayer and inhaled deeply before she opened her mouth.

And proceeded to give him the best butter-me-up of his immortal life.

She prattled on and on about how nice he was, how they were the best of friends, how he had always been there for her when she needed him. She complimented him endlessly and he sat back and listened to her with unwavering amusement.

Oh, but that wasn't all.

"And I've been such a good girl," she started. Cocking his head, he listened now as she listed all of her accomplishments and good deeds. From tidying her room to cleaning the messes they made after playing, one would think she was a saint for all she had done.

"So I promise that if you just give me one crystal I will never ever ask for anything ever again. I will always be the nicest and bestest girl ever," she finally concluded.

Jareth waited a moment to make sure she had truly finished her appeal. Slowly, his lips turned up into a crooked grin. "My, my. You can certainly plead your case. Can't you, Sarah mine?"

The little girl's eyes sparked alive again and she began to bounce with excitement. "So you'll give me a crystal?" she asked in a voice bubbling with enthusiasm.

Jareth threw his head back and laughed heartily. "Oh Sarah…" Looking back to her, he wore the fondest expression.

"The answer is still no."

It was that day that the King of the Goblins learned that little human girls could hit very hard.

Chapter Text

"This is so awesome!" Sarah cheered. At the present moment, she was running around Jareth's throne room like a chicken with its head cut off. Or, probably more accurately, like a goblin drunk on ale.

"It pleases me that you approve." He chuckled as he watched her race around the room, chasing chickens and goblins alike. Never had his subjects had to deal with such an... exuberant child. They didn’t know quite what to make of her...nor did they know to keep out of arm’s reach.

 It was what they called Spring Break in the human realm, which meant Sarah was free from primary school - otherwise called Elementary in her part of the world. Of course, her adoring parents took this as a perfect time to go on an extended holiday and leave Sarah with that undying babysitter of hers.

It had taken just a small bit of magic to convince said babysitter that Sarah's parents had in fact not called her and she was thus easily exempted from her role as Sarah's weeklong caretaker.

After all, it was a role a certain Goblin King was more than happy to play.

"Sarah, please release Mr. Swilltop now," Jareth requested, kneeling in front of the little girl. The already-green little goblin she had within her clutches was looking a bit worse for wear.

She was reluctant to drop the poor thing, pouting as he scrambled away as fast as his little feet could carry him. To Jareth's surprise, Sarah had not been the least bit shy or scared of the goblins that inhabited his kingdom and infested his castle. In fact, she was quite enamored with them. 

"Let's play a game, Sarah," Jareth announced as he straightened back up. Walking over to his throne, he draped himself across it in his usual reclining pose.

The girl was at his side in an instant. Her hands rested on the seat under the shadow of his leg, which was propped up on the armrest of his chair, and she was nearly vibrating in excitement.

"What game are we gonna play?" she queried.

"Trust me, it's very simple. Actually, it is a spinoff of one of your games; House . How about we play Castle?" he asked, flashing her a toothy grin.

The little girl squealed in delight. "Yes yes yes! Who do I get to be?"

"The Princess, of course! And I shall be the King.”

Her brows knitted together. "But you're already a King. It's not a game if you're playing yourself."

Jareth blinked."Well, yes. I do suppose so. Who would you have me be?"

"A Prince!" came Sarah's quick reply.

He rolled his eyes to counter the smile that was threatening to pull up his lips. "Oh fine then. Shall I look the part?"

Sarah cocked her head -  a new habit she had gleaned from a certain friend. "What do you mean?"

Smirking, Jareth summoned a crystal and slowly rose from his throne. "You may want to stand back."

Sarah obediently took a couple steps away, now bubbling with excitement. She knew Jareth only asked her to step back when he was about to do something spectacular with his magic.

The King did not disappoint. Rising from his throne, he rolled the crystal over his hand a couple times before letting it drop to the floor before his feet. There was a loud POP and the crystal exploded with a large, silvery cloud that surrounded Jareth's entire form. 

As the glittering smoke came wafting toward her, Sarah fanned it out of her face. When it completely cleared, the little girl gasped at the sight before her.

Where Jareth had been there now stood a little boy around Sarah's age - seven or so - with a toothy smirk and mismatched eyes. His features were soft but still angular and his golden hair was gathered into a ponytail at the back of his neck. He wore the same clothes (black breeches and a maroon ruffled shirt) as the tall King that had been in his place not moments before.

"Jareth?" Sarah asked.

"Yes, precious?" the boy replied. His voice was quite a couple octaves higher but still unmistakable.

Jareth's grin grew wider, and Sarah's grew to match.

"Let's explore!" she cheered, turning to the throne room door.

"Wait, not yet," urged Jareth. Sarah frowned, but turned back to him.

"Are we quite properly clothed?" He asked, raising a fine brow.

Sparing a quick glance to her faded yellow t-shirt and well-worn overalls, she shrugged her shoulders. "It's just for pretend."

"Oh, but it's so much more fun to pretend when you have a costume!" Jareth exclaimed, balancing on the balls of his feet and grinning like mischief. Perhaps it was due in part to his child form, but he looked positively impish.

"Alright, but I don't want to be a Princess," Sarah declared.

Now it was Jareth's turn to frown, lower lip jutting out in a pout. He had wanted nothing more than to dress her up in a well-tailored, beautiful, regal ballgown fit for a tiny princess.

"Well then what do you want to be?" he asked, unable to keep his tone entirely free of petulance.

"I'll be a knight! That way I can protect the Prince!" she declared, placing her hands upon her hips and striking a most dashing pose.

 Jareth couldn't stop a smirk. She would want to play the heroine.

"Oh, very well."

Quickly summoning two crystals, he dropped them before his and Sarah's feet. This time, they were both enveloped in a shimmering silver cloud of magic.

Once the cloud had disappeared, Sarah looked down at herself. She squealed in delight when she found she had been clothed in real golden metal armor. Even more delightful, an authentic (but quite blunt) sword swung at her hip.

"I have a cape!" she exclaimed happily, noticing the red cloak draping from her shoulders.

"As do I," said Jareth. He had clothed himself in finery that greatly resembled Prince Charming from Cinderella. Sarah didn't particularly care for the main characters of that movie, but she loved the mice. He knew she would recognize and appreciate the reference. Adjusting the epaulettes on his shoulders, he hooked a thumb in his golden belt and flashed her a smile.

"We match!" Sarah commented.

"Indeed we do. Shall we go on an adventure?" he queried.

"Alright!" Sarah unsheathed her sword and pointed it into the sky. "Onwards!"

The boy simply shook his head and smirked. "Protect me well, brave knight."

In the blink of an eye, Sarah's expression lost all of its youthful playfulness. Sheathing her sword, she surprised Jareth by kneeling at his feet. Placing her hand on her breastplate, right over her heart, she vowed, "I swear to you that I shall protect you with my life." 

She dropped character by letting out a cheerful giggle. Standing once more, she turned away charged out of the throne room with a fierce battle cry. Jareth was left behind, dazed by his wonder at her.

Softly, he sighed.

"Oh, but Sarah,” he murmured into the quiet of his throne room, “Something of mine has already been stolen. Something precious. And you're the one who took it from me."

The little prince’s steps echoed as he followed his knight in shining armour out of the castle and into the Goblin City.

Chapter Text

Mr. and Mrs. Williams were not on speaking terms this morning. Last night the heated words they'd exchanged had been particularly vicious. Both of their hearts bled with pain, but pride kept the spouses apart.

Mrs. Williams couldn't understand why her husband thought her actions were wrong.

Mr. Williams couldn't understand why his wife acts the way she does.

They both knew a divorce was inevitable.

Neither knew how to explain it to their daughter.

Mr. and Mrs. Williams did not love each other. They never had.

Linda Williams was fickle and had carried a string of lovers all through her college years.

She continued to have lovers after she was married.

Robert Williams had married Linda for the sole reason that both of their parents had pushed him to do so. Her mother and father hoped a stable man would be able to keep their daughter from acting out. His mother and father thought it would bring in a good deal of money to have a wife that was a famous actress.

He couldn't control his wife. His wife couldn't control her cash flow.

Mr. Williams had two jobs that were just barely keeping his family out of bankruptcy.

They both filed for divorce.

Neither knew how to explain it to their daughter.

Sarah hadn't been an accident. Mr. and Mrs. Williams had made an effort to conceive. After all, they couldn't achieve the coveted American Dream without a child, could they?

They hadn't made much of an effort to be parents. More accurately, they didn't know how to be parents. They thought giving Sarah a lot of toys would keep her happy. They thought that was all a child needed.

Mr. Williams didn't have much time for his daughter. He didn't know what to do with her, really. To be honest, he’d hoped for a little boy. He’d always wanted a boy to take to football games and play catch with in the yard. He didn't quite care for princess dresses and cute shoes. Robert was a busy man. He never really thought to make time for his daughter.

Mrs. Williams loved having a baby girl. When Sarah was first born, Linda cooed and sighed as she happily clothed her little living doll in every dress and costume she could get her hands on. 

However, when Sarah was old enough to demand to dress herself, Linda lost most of her interest. She still bought Sarah plenty of clothes and accessories, but her daughter was no longer willing to play the part of the dress-up doll. Soon enough Linda moved on to other entertainments. In fact, she paid so little attention to her daughter that she didn't even wonder how silk pajamas suddenly appeared in her daughter's dirty clothes hamper one day.

Sarah Williams cried when her mother and father told her they were getting a divorce. 

To be fair, they hadn't explained it very well.

Chapter Text

He hadn't felt this particular stir for a long time. A few years, actually. He was lounging on his throne, overseeing court and listening to his imbecilic goblins prattle on and on about who stole whose chicken and the amount of ale they demanded as repercussion when suddenly a force hit him so strongly he was nearly knocked out of his lounging position.

Sarah.

The goblins were all greatly confused when, in the blink of an eye, a sudden cloud of sparkling dust took the place their King had been occupying on his throne.

"What is the matter, my brave heroine?"

He found her under her favorite tree in her favorite park. It was a crisp autumn day and the cool air made her already-red nose glow. Tears streamed from her eyes, which shone with a crushing sadness. She hugged her legs tightly to her chest. Her unfocused gaze was fixed on the glistening stream before her.

"Mommy and Daddy aren't going to be together anymore," she whispered in a small voice. Her tiny chest seized and she hiccuped. Overcome by her emotions, she ducked her head and hid her face in her knees. Her shoulders began to shake as she sobbed.

Jareth hesitated. He had known for a while this blow was coming. After all, Sarah's parents practically despised each other.

Sarah, apparently, had thought that despite everything -- despite all the shouted insults and broken trinkets, her parents would continue their lives together.

He crossed his arms, trying to process the waves of conflicting emotions coursing through him.

He felt sorrow for her, of course. The poor girl no doubt thought it was her fault her parents were divorcing (as every child does). She would be heartbroken for quite some time. This, of course, was evident as he watched her continue to cry so hard it seemed she would one day create a great ocean like Alice in Alice in Wonderland .

The other feeling, the one he was trying valiantly to suppress, was one of excitement. For surely, now that her parents were to be broken apart, Sarah would not want to live with either of them for all the pain they were causing her.

Surely now, after years of unconscious yearning, Sarah would consent to becoming his subject in the Goblin Kingdom.

Oh, but not just his subject. His princess.

His breath stalled as he gazed down at the young girl. He hadn't known - hadn't realized - just how much he desired this. He felt as one does when a great amount of effort has been put toward practicing a particular instrument and now, finally, nearly every note was being perfectly executed and he was so close to finally being delivered a perfect performance.

"Sarah," Jareth breathed her name, crouching down before her. She continued to hide her face from him, her sobs filling the silence. He ran a hand over her head, his caress as light as a feather.

"Sarah, I- You-" The King was suddenly lost for words. Everything he wanted to tell her was swimming through his mind, but nothing seemed to be able to escape his lips.

I never want you to feel pain again.

I want you to live in the Goblin Kingdom with me.

I want to teach you everything about my world.

I want you to love my labyrinth and its subjects.

I think you are perfect in every way imaginable.

Sarah, I want you to become my princess.

"Everyone, even the other kids at school all ignore me and now Mom and Dad…" Sarah whispered, her muffled voice broken and laced with hiccups. "I just want to get away from this awful place."

Silence.

For a moment, Jareth couldn't process what she had said.

Then, like the sun rising into a morning of gold, realization dawned upon him.

Everything clicked into place. 

Jareth could have roared his triumph. He could have sung and danced for all the exuberance her admission gave him.

However, he stayed composed. He would not flaunt his happiness when it was borne from her sorrow. He did not wish for her to feel such deep pain and loneliness. 

But it was no lie that her abandonment would be the key to his gain.

Jareth continued to gently, soothingly, run his hand over her head. "Sarah, you can come with me," he murmured to her.

Sarah slowly raised her head. As her eyes met his own, through the heartbreak shone a small ray of hope.

"Really?"

"Of course. I can make all the arrangements. Soon." Jareth gently wiped the tears away from her cheek before cupping her small face in his hand. "After all, I think I recall you quite enjoying my Kingdom."

Sarah expelled a shaky breath. Her eyes searched his and slowly, a weak smile formed on the edges of her lips.

"And all my dreams could come true?"

Jareth chuckled and gifted her with a warm, comforting smile. "As my lady wishes."

"Then...please. Yes, please take me away," Sarah asked, her voice only growing stronger with each word.

Jareth would be more than happy to comply.

However, neither the King nor the young girl knew of the obstacle that would place itself within their path.

Chapter Text

"Why do you doubt me, Father?" hissed an irate Goblin King. He paced the smooth marble stones in the grand palace belonging to the man before him.

"Because she is a mortal child from the human's world, my son. She is not yours to take." The King of the Faeries wore an expression of bafflement. "Pray tell, since when did you actually desire to take a child? I have only ever heard you complain about your duties!"

"She is not wanted in the human world," said Jareth, ignoring his father's latter statement. "Her parents have disregarded her, a canine is her only companion, and she wishes to be in my care." Jareth stopped his pacing to stand before his father. His shoulders were tense and his clenched jaw flexed. He craned his chin to regard his father from atop the grand throne in which he was seated.

"No child may be under your care unless it is wished away. That is the contract to which your magic has and always shall be bound so long as you are The Labyrinth’s sire." 

"She shall wish herself away," Jareth quickly responded. "She already wishes it with all her heart. She must only say the words for it to be true."

There was a lengthy pause. The King of the Faeries quirked a brow.

"That is how I first found her, Father," Jareth pressed, "She created her own stir. This… human child has pure magic within her heart. She is unlike any other of her kind. That is why she is unable to create any lasting bond with other humans. She does not belong in the Human Realm. She belongs with me ."

"Is that so?" His father took a moment to consider. Finally, he admitted, "Then I shall admit that perhaps she does belong here, if what you say is the truth. There are precious few humans who still have magic within them. That alienation will only cause her to suffer in the Above world."

"You have my gratitude, Fa-"

"Wait." The King of the Faeries held up a hand to silence his son. "I admit she may belong in this realm, but although she may possess a small fragment of magic she is still a human . How could she deserve to be welcomed to your kingdom as your Princess?"

"She is worthy. She can prove herself," Jareth hastily assured.

His quick response was met with an amused curl of the lips and a cocky tilt of the head.

"Alright. She shall prove her worthiness." His father narrowed his eyes as he regarded his son. "But I shall pick the terms."

"Name anything. She will be triumphant and prove herself." Jareth's tone held no trace of hesitation.

However, when his father named the task, Jareth's conviction wavered.

Not because he didn't think Sarah would be unable to pass the test to be set before her, but because he didn't think he would be able to go through with administering it.

Eventually, he would do what needed to be done.

Only it would take much more time than he had expected. And this would not only be her test, but his as well.

For the rules dictated he would have to become a dream. He must make her forget, and then he must allow her to grow without his hand to help guide her.

He would have to keep his distance, because this was a test she had to pass all on her own.

He only hoped his will was strong as hers.

Chapter Text

A few months after she turned fourteen Sarah heard the news; Karen was pregnant. Months later, the letter from the doctor’s office arrived. Her father and stepmother sat at the table, clutching each other’s hands tightly as they read the result together.

Karen was going to have a baby boy.

Sarah felt as if she were fading into oblivion.

With an expression that wavered between pained and furious she watched on from the doorway, feeling invisible, as Karen and her father began creating the baby's nursery.

Right across the hall from her bedroom.

Her father looked happier than she had ever seen him as he put together the store-bought crib for his baby boy's nursery. He glanced to Karen, who was slowly and carefully painting the walls, with a look of pure adoration. Sarah wondered if that expression would have made her feel happy if she had seen it when she was younger. Now, it only made her feel more infuriated.

That was a look that he had never given her.

It was as if she didn’t even exist.

Sarah quickly turned her heel and stomped into her bedroom. She slammed the door hard, which only earned her a shout. "No slamming doors in this house, young lady!"

Unbidden, tears welled in Sarah's eyes, but she refused to let them fall.

From her window she heard a commotion. Upon peering out she saw her beloved sheepdog, Merlin, barking up at her. She put her hand up to the glass, feeling another wave of hurt and anger wash over her.

"I'm sorry, Merlin," she murmured, "But there's nothing I can do. I wouldn't be surprised if they kicked me out, too."

Turning away from the window, Sarah threw herself onto her overly-plush bed with a heavy sigh that quickly turned into a grunt of pain. Reaching under herself, she pulled out the red leather-bound book she had accidentally laid on.

A faint spark of recognition registered when she saw the book, but she somehow couldn't remember where she had gotten it from or how it had ended up in her bed.

" Labyrinth …" she read the title aloud. Curious, she opened the book to the first page.

Immediately, she was sucked into the world of the book. She couldn't tear her eyes away and she didn't stop reading until she had memorized every single line. 

" Through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered… " she spoke the lines over and over and over again in play until the fateful day she spoke them to a King.

Chapter Text

Allowing Sarah to grow without him was proving to be one of the most difficult things Jareth had ever done.

Of course, she didn't miss his presence in her life at all. He had become nothing more to her than an imaginary friend she left behind when she grew out of childhood. She moved on without him, unaffected, simply believing that she had grown out of a phase of her life.

It was somehow worse than being forgotten. She did remember him to an extent, but only thought him to be a product of her imagination.

He had become nothing more to her  than a fairy tale.

Jareth threw another crystal against the stone wall with a roar of rage. He had been watching her. Again.

"They're messing her up," he hissed. His eyes, simmering with rage, fixated on a single goblin who began to cower and shake before him.

"W-who? Sire? " the creature squeaked.

"Her parents," Jareth spat the word. If he didn't care for them before, he despised them now. They had gone through with the divorce and had dragged their daughter through the mud in the process. Her mother had been especially terrible.

Linda had at first tried gaining custody of Sarah. Purely for monetary gain in child support, Jareth was sure. To sway Sarah in choosing to live with her, Linda had showered her with gifts and, even more precious to the young girl, attention. Sarah's mother had started speaking to her daughter more, taking her out on "mother-daughter" outings, and acting genuinely interested in Sarah's happy ramblings.

Then, Linda got a boyfriend. The fact that she was still legally married wasn't what peeved Jareth, but it was her quick turnaround. Now that the vile woman had a rich and famous beau, she decided she no longer needed custody of young Sarah.

So Linda completely cut the young girl out of her life.

Jareth had just witnessed Sarah receive a letter from her mother. She had read its contents again and again, her mouth agape and disbelieving. Linda was leaving for Hollywood.

And she was not going to take Sarah with her.

If Jareth had thought the pull at the time Sarah learned about her parents' divorce had been especially strong, he was not prepared for what followed this betrayal.

His magic sizzled in his veins. The pull was so incredibly, impossibly strong Jareth nearly destroyed his body trying to resist it. His fingers dug into the armrests of his throne so tightly he cracked and splintered the wood. A cold sweat broke out over the King's brow as he struggled against his own magic.

The magic that was trying so desperately to reach out to answer Sarah's silent plea.

Finally, when the pull subsided (no doubt because young Sarah had cried herself to sleep) Jareth collapsed to the ground.

Unconscious.

When he finally came to, perhaps a few hours after he had collapsed, Jareth's eyes opened to view a rather unpleasant sight.

A goblin was peering into his face at such close proximity Jareth could distinguish the layers of dirt that covered its face. It was yelling something at him, too.

" Kingsy? Kingsy O-K? Why Kingsy fall down?"

"Get away from me," he groaned. He had hoped to sound a bit more demanding, but found simply speaking was painful to him.

Finding his way to his chamber had been an absolute nightmare. His magic was completely drained from his body, leaving him withered and weak. The trek to his bed proved to be more exhausting than a thirteen hour run through his labyrinth.

When the King did finally collapse into his impossibly soft bedding, his consciousness quickly escaped him once again.

He spent the next month recovering.

Though the only reason it took so long to recover from this massive expenditure of energy was because it was repeatedly tapped into over the course of this time.

Luckily for Jareth, he was passed out cold the next few times Sarah's pull called to him. These pulls were especially strong due to the freshness of Sarah's hurt. However, when he did wake, he once again had to use what was left of his strength to fight against the magic that longed to answer Sarah's unconscious pleas.

After that month, Sarah's pain had subsided a bit and Jareth was once again able to restore his magic and his strength. He was relieved.

That was, until he summoned a crystal to look upon his dear Sarah.

What he saw caused the breath to stall and his heart to cease its beating for a long, painful moment.

He saw it. In her eyes, always brimming with curiosity, wonder, and happiness, there was now pain.

Jareth watched it all. He watched every time she felt betrayed, looked-over, forgotten, and invisible. Jareth watched as the pain in her eyes grew and grew until it dominated her.

He watched and despaired.

Finally, on the day Sarah's father and stepmother began dressing the nursery, Jareth was granted permission to lead Sarah into the next phase of the test.

As Sarah stormed into her room slammed her door, it appeared on her bed. When she unknowingly threw herself upon it and discovered it, she would read its title aloud.

" Labyrinth."

Jareth inhaled slowly as he watched her within his crystal. Then, he turned his gaze to the window outside his throne room. He looked upon his labyrinth and knew that soon it would have its champion.

And he would have his princess.

Chapter Text

" I say, does anyone want to play a game of Scrabble?"

Seven games of Scrabble, two competitions of Chicken Toss, a round of Goblin Ale that was not drunk by any humans in the room (there being only one), and an explosion of chicken feathers later, Sarah William's victory party for defeating the Labyrinth drew to a close. She waved a jovial goodbye to all her friends as they returned back to their homes. Hoggle, Ludo, and Sir Didymus were the last ones to leave. She received a wave, a furry hug, and a deep bow from each of them respectively.

" Should you need us…"

Sarah sat down on the edge of her bed and surveyed the catastrophe that was her bedroom. Goblins, she realized, were worse than the frat boys in movies when it came to trashing a party. 

With a sigh, she wiped a clump of orange fur off her comforter. She was too tired to attempt any sort of cleaning, which aggravated her. Ever since she was about five years old she had always kept her room clean and tidy.

" What a pity."

"What a mess," said a smooth voice.

Sarah's head snapped up and her eyes grew wide. Appearing before her, seemingly out of thin air, stood the Goblin King wearing a smirk. Donned in his midnight-encrusted armour, he struck a tall and imposing figure with his hands placed upon his hips. His eyes shone with an indecipherable twinkle.

"I don't know why you look so cocky," quipped Sarah. "After all, I did just beat you."

The Goblin King held up his hands in mock-defense. "No need to be so abrasive, Sarah. You won fair and square. Truly, I expected no less from you."

Sarah eyed him suspiciously. She crossed her arms over her chest. "Oh yeah? Then why are you here?"

"I've come to give you your prize," he told her. His tone suggested it was the most obvious thing in the world. He flicked his wrist and a crystal appeared in his hand.

"I have my prize," said Sarah. She eyed the crystal warily. "I got my baby brother back."

"Your brother was your goal. He was not your prize. This-" Jareth held up the crystal in offering. "This is your prize."

" It's a crystal, nothing more..."

"You already offered me my dreams," said Sarah. Her eyes tracked the crystal as he twirled and toyed with it.

Jareth grinned toothily. "Indeed I did, Sarah. You defeated my labyrinth spectacularly. Although, near the end there I had worried for a moment you’d forgotten your lines."

Sarah's brows were knitted together. "Wait, you wanted me to win?"

"I wanted you to pass ."

"But why?"

"Because every teacher wishes for his student to pass her test."

"Test?"

"Just take the crystal, Sarah." Walking forward, Jareth took Sarah's hand in his own and placed the crystal in her palm. It was smooth and somehow warm to the touch; almost comfortingly so. Jareth's eyes bore into hers and in their depths she saw something akin to pleading. "It is your reward."

Her voice was barely more than a whisper when she asked, "What is it?"

An intense emotion made Jareth's voice even richer when he responded, "Your memories. "

Unable to help herself any longer, and feeling as if an invisible force was tugging her head down, the Champion of the Labyrinth peered into the crystal.

The Champion remembered everything.

The elation had been expected. The tears, however, had not.

" My kingdom is as great."

Looking up at Jareth with wide, suddenly watery eyes, Sarah placed a shaking hand over her mouth.

"Hello, my brave heroine," he greeted her warmly. His smile seemed to bring light to the whole room, without any sort of edge or condensation to it. Emotions that had been invisible to her before were now present in his eyes. Pride, joy, respect…

Love.

"Jareth," Sarah croaked.

The Goblin King threw his head back and laughed. Looking back to her, his smile became even more radiant and he opened his arms in invitation.

Without hesitation, Sarah threw herself into his embrace. He hugged her fiercely, but not before he had magically replaced his armor with soft breeches and a flowy poet's shirt. Sarah buried her face into his shoulder and they desperately held on to each other.

Finally reunited.

"Why did you take them away?" Sarah asked as Jareth ran a soothing hand through her hair. As happy as she was, there was an edge of hurt on her voice. "My memories?"

"Because, Sarah mine, I had one last test for you," Jareth replied, squeezing her gently so she wouldn't pull away.

"The Labyrinth," she murmured, the realization dawning.

"Yes, my labyrinth." Jareth placed a tender kiss on her temple. "You learned many lessons there, did you not?"

" Things are not always as they seem."

"I did," Sarah confirmed. "But I still don't know why."

Jareth gently took her chin between his thumb and index finger and lifted her head so she would meet his eyes. His tone was entirely serious when he told her, "So you may come to the Underground with me."

Sarah expelled a short breath. Her eyes searched his desperately. "To be your princess?"

"Yes," he told her. "Then, perhaps in time, my Queen."

Sarah's eyes lit with understanding, but she looked surprised.

" But what no one knew is that the king of the goblins had fallen in love with the girl…"

"Sarah," Jareth began. His expression was intense in its severity. "Do you want to be mine?"

"Forever?"

"Yes."

Sarah smiled. "Not long at all."

" There's such a sad love

Deep in your eyes, a kind of pale jewel

Open and closed within your eyes

I'll place the sky within your eyes…"

fin