A full week later Jareth woke her from her enchanted sleep with a wave of his elegant, gloved hand.  She had slept like a baby, without a care in the world – any world.

“Good evening, Sarah,” Jareth said casually.

She didn’t say anything.  She felt so relaxed and peaceful she didn’t want to break the spell.  Jareth seemed determined to, however.  “You should have completely re-gained your strength by now Sarah.  Why don’t you dress,” he said waving his hand towards an intricately carved wardrobe, “and then one of my goblins will bring you to dinner?”

“Okay,” Sarah agreed looking approvingly at his outfit.  It seemed every time she saw him he was wearing something different.  Tonight he was in tan boots, cream tights, a cream poet’s shirt, and tan vest and gloves.  With a nod, he vanished.

Sarah got up, surprised at how good she felt.  She riffled through the wardrobe.  It was full of medieval style dresses.  “I guess modern fashion hasn’t caught up with him yet,” Sarah muttered.  She chose a wine red gown with lacings and cream trimmings.  It was very comfortable – far more so than restricting jeans.  “Maybe medieval fashion designers knew something modern ones don’t,” Sarah muttered some more.  She put her hair up with a scrunchie she’d found in the pockets of her own clothes.  She frowned into the mirror.  Was it her imagination, or did she look older?  Not much – one or two years perhaps.  Then she gasped as realized – she actually was two years older than she had been.  Still frowning, she walked distractedly to the door.  A small, female goblin was waiting for her.

“I’ll take you to His Majesty now, miss,” she said.  Sarah followed sanguinely enough.  The dining room was off the throne room and had high ceilings and stone floors.  A massive table dominated the room, as intricately carved as her wardrobe had been.  Jareth was pacing restlessly at the far end.

“Her lady, Sarah,” the goblin announced and then departed.  Jareth started to come toward her, then frowned.  With a wave of his hand, Sarah found her hair loose.

“What did you do that for?” Sarah snapped, annoyed.

“It looks better down,” Jareth answered imperiously, then looked approvingly at her dress.

“I’m not a doll,” Sarah said coldly, turning away.

“Sarah, why not look your best?” Jareth drawled.  “You have such lovely hair,” he said teasingly, suddenly with his cheek next to hers as he stood right behind her.  She jumped about a foot in air!  Then hurriedly stepped away.  Jareth grinned maliciously.

“If you want me to say, that’s not the way to go about it,” Sarah said stiffly, her fists clenched.

“Make you uncomfortable, do I?” he said softly.

“Yes!” she glared.  “On purpose too!”

“Naturally,” he said, walking to the table.  “Do sit down Sarah.”

A goblin popped out of no-where and pulled out her chair for her.  She said down, brushing her hair out of her face with one hand and shooting an irritated glare at Jareth.  He looked back at her, amused.  Over the first course, she regarded him quizzically.  “So, what am I going to do here for a year?” Sarah asked.

“Whatever you like, my dear,” he replied, taking a sip of red wine from a heavy, intricately decorated goblet.

“Can I have some of my stuff here?” she asked politely.

“What stuff?” he replied curiously.

“My CDs and CD player for a start.  Umm… and my TV, video and movies.  My books and my computer.  And my cat,” she listed carefully, not wanting to forget anything.

“Anything else?” he asked (and Sarah was sure there was a hint of sarcasm in the question).

“Nope, that’s it,” she said cheerfully, trying not to laugh at the expression of fine disgust that settled over Jareth’s face.  Sarah ate the food with a healthy appetite.  It was quite good and since there was not a peach in sight, she felt no qualms about eating her fill. 

While eating, Sarah questioned him more closely about the story he had told her about himself.  For the most part he didn’t seem to have any problems answering her questions, so she asked as many nosey questions as she liked.  “So, what exactly did this black magic involve?” Sarah asked with an innocent expression, finally.

“You don’t need to know about that.  You don’t want to end up in a similar situation, do you?” he said shortly, his eyes averted and his expression dark.

“Looks like I’m in a ‘situation’ regardless,” Sarah remarked bluntly.  “And it wasn’t of my making,” she added pointedly.

He looked at her consideringly.  “Is it so bad here?” he asked.

“Too soon to tell but my last visit was rather nerve-racking,” Sarah countered.

“Yes, but you didn’t get hurt did you?” he argued logically.

“No.  But I wasn’t sure that I wouldn’t get hurt.  Has anyone been hurt in your Labyrinth?” she asked curiously.

“Only the goblins.  And that’s only because they’re stupid,” Jareth replied impatiently.

“And how many people have tried to make it through your rat maze… er, Labyrinth, I mean,” Sarah asked.

Jareth shot her a dark sideways glance.  He knew she was giving him a hard time quite deliberately.  He waved one slender hand towards a wall, and suddenly portraits of thousands of young women appeared.  “Nearly 80,000 Underground years worth of failures,” he said, his voice edged with contempt, disgust and impatience.

Sarah got up to take a closer look.  She couldn’t believe her eyes.  There were literally thousands of them.  They were all different and all quite beautiful.  “I’d love to know all their stories,” she whispered, looking with facination at their lovely faces.

“I don’t remember most of them,” Jareth’s bored voice said, right next to her ear.  She jumped again.

“I wish you wouldn’t sneak up on my like that, Jareth!” she scolded and turned back to the pictures.  He smiled wolfishly at her profile.

“But it’s such fun to see you jump,” Jareth laughed, then turned away to prowl around the room.

“Can you leave these here for me to look at some more, another time?” Sarah asked.

“If you like,” Jareth shrugged, having already lost interest in the subject.

“When can I see Hoggle, Ludo and Sir Didymus again?” Sarah asked, finally turning away from the array of fascinating faces.

“I was wondering when you were going to ask that,” Jareth remarked casually.  “Whenever you like.  Maybe tomorrow?  I can send word to them to come to see you after breakfast,” he suggested.

“Great!  We can have a party like last time.  I’ll put on my David Bowie CDs,” Sarah said gleefully.

“Who?” Jareth inquired superciliously, his flaxen brows raised.

“You’ll see,” Sarah replied yawning and suddenly feeling tired.

“Time for bed, young lady.  You’re still not as strong as you think you are,” Jareth said.  Rather bossily, Sarah thought annoyed.  The goblin that had escorted her to the dining room suddenly appeared again and Sarah followed her back to her bedroom, waving a sleepy good-night to the Goblin King who was already peering darkly into a crystal.

“Show me David Bowie,” Jareth demanded irritably.  An image glowed in the small sphere and Jareth yelped in surprise and nearly dropped his crystal.  “Who is that freak?”  he commanded of  no-one in particular.  “And why is he wearing a PINK JUMPSUIT?”