"What Dreams Must Come"

(Sequel to A Forfeit of Dreams)

Written by K.L. Morgan

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PART I

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Tainted Love: CHAPTER ONE

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Once upon a time…

A long, long time ago…

In a faraway land…

A young girl was crying.

She crouched, shivering, in an abandoned garden. Her robe hung heavily from her frail shoulders, white and delicately boned beneath embroidered robes. Stains of bright color in her attire could barely been seen, hidden as they were beneath patches of velvet-brown and gray fur. She clutched their softness to her breast as she sobbed, as if desperately seeking something – anything – to cover her vulnerable heart.

She was seated on a low rim of worked stone that surrounded a shallow pool set amidst dead and dying flora. The grass beneath her boots was brown and dry, and the trees around her raised starkly naked branches to the pale, bright sky. The place was silent – birds had long since learned not to forage here, and none would dare to disturb the tsar's private gardens.

Except for one.

Her body shuddered with her sobbing, one hand pressed against her mouth to muffle the sound of those despairing tears. She hunched against the pain, her hair falling in a dark, trembling curtain over her face. Tears fell freely from her eyes, dropping onto the icy pool. Her tears were flame, and they melted the frozen water, tendrils of steam rising in delicate coils around her desolate form.

"Why are you crying?"

She gasped and jerked herself upright, looking wildly about. Her eyes widened as she saw him, half-hidden behind the tree trunk he leaned against. His own furs blended with the dreary colors of the autumn bark, bringing his pale hair and white, strange face into contrast. His eyes – an unnerving crystalline color, with mismatched pupils – regarded her with a detached curiosity.

"You!" she blurted. "What are you doing here?"

He shrugged, elegantly – and it made her heart ache, a gesture so unconsciously royal, it reminded her of… She dashed more fiery tears from her eyes, ducked her head away from his penetrating gaze.

"I was curious," he said after a moment. "I wondered what had happened to you."

She bit her lip.

"I see my worst fears are realized."

She glared at him, her eyes changing from vivid orange to a burning, enduring blue. "And why should you fear for me?"

He smiled a little. "I could see what was happening, between you and your tsar's son. But I also know how the stories go. I suspected this would happen."

"Then why didn't you tell me?" she demanded, struggling to her feet. "Why didn't you warn me? We traveled together for days – you could have said something!"

He gave her a look of mild surprise. "What would you have done?" he asked, as if slightly intrigued. "Kept him from rescuing the princess?"

She flushed, a rosy stain spreading across her white skin. "Yes," she said belligerently, daring him to contradict her.

He only laughed. She turned away, humiliated, and made as if to run back into the house. But slim-fingered hands caught her around the waist and pulled her to him, where he confined her in an embrace.

"There, there," he said, still chuckling. He smoothed her hair, and she pressed her face into his coat, more to hide her shame than anything else. "You didn't really think you could… but of course you did. Delightful, impetuous Roksana." He made her look up at him. "But it never works that way."

"Maybe," she replied doggedly. "Maybe he would have – he did love me –"

He shook his head. "It never works that way," he repeated firmly.

She sighed, letting it go.

He traced the tear-tracks on her face with one gloved finger, watching as the reddened lines faded to smooth, untouched skin once again. "So what will you do?" he asked softly.

She stilled beneath his touch. "I don't know," she finally said. She raised her strange eyes to his, holding their oddly alluring gaze. "What would you suggest?"

He smiled and abruptly released her, turning on his heel to walk, unhurriedly, back over to the stripped and mournful trees. "Find another tsar's son?" he suggested innocently.

She crossed her arms beneath her breasts, hugging herself. "Don't be cruel," she whispered.

He laughed again, deep in his throat, and she shivered with it. "Dear one, I'm afraid you ask a little much for someone suddenly cast out into the cold. You should be nicer to those kind souls who would consider taking you in."

Her head snapped up and she stared at him. "What?"

He turned his attention back to the trees as if he hadn't heard her. "Certainly you should stay away from any dry kindling or tinder," he said dryly. "Is that why your lover turned you away? I suppose he feared for his silk sheets."

She flinched. "He said…" She swallowed. "He said his bride would rule the kingdom. And for that he needed someone… someone more human."

He cast the briefest of glances over his shoulder, and there was a flash of cold pity in his eyes. "Then it was the feathers that bothered him."

"Stop it!" she suddenly shouted, clenching her hands into fists. "Just be quiet! Is that all you can do – lead others into darkness, and then amuse yourself with their pain?"

"I saved your love from death. Is this my thanks?"

"Better you had left him in the forest!" she cried, sobbing once more. "Better you had never led him to me! Oh, God," she moaned, letting herself fall to the ground, her heavy skirts rumpling around her as she sat with her arms supporting her weight. "Better I had never been born. If only…"

"… if only?"

She barely heard his soft, coaxing question, so wrapped in her own misery. "If only I could go away from here," she said in a small voice, shutting her eyes against burning tears. "If only someone would take me from this place, from these people, and I would never have to see their happiness, his bride's radiance… their humanity."

Her fingers dug into the dry, crumbling earth, grasping for purchase in an uncertain world. She kept her eyes on the barren ground, willing herself not to cry anymore, not to let him see her pain. She failed to notice the growing silence, so intent was she upon composing herself. And then –

"You used to steal from these trees, didn't you?" came his tone of lazy curiosity. "I believe that's what got you in trouble in the first place."

She sniffed a little, not raising her head. "Yes," she answered, subdued.

"Was it worth it?"

"No."

"But you just couldn't resist the temptation."

She gave a tiny sigh and drew herself up. "They tasted like summer," she said wistfully. "They were golden like the sun, and I… I remember wondering if there was anything in the world as sweet."

"Do you miss them?"

"I will never have another," she said simply. "He will have me gone before the snows. I don't know where. Perhaps a consolation prize to the one brother he has left. I suppose there are –" She looked up and gasped.

He crouched before her easily; sitting on his booted ankles among the dead, dry stalks of lost flowers. He held his hand toward her and it in was one of her beloved golden apples, the skin the tawny color of the setting sun.

Her mouth watered. She looked quickly up at his glittering eyes, and then back to the fruit. "How did you…"

"Where I am from," he said quietly, "it is always summer. If I choose." Then he smiled disarmingly, head to one side. "Don't you want it?"

Her trembling hand reached out to take it, and she cradled the apple between her bare palms. It felt, against her cold hands, as if it had been sun-ripened, still retaining that gentle warmth. She looked at it dumbly.

"I gave it to you to eat, not stare at."

Still disbelieving, she raised it to her mouth. Her teeth pierced the smooth skin easily, and suddenly she had a mouthful of that delicious, familiar flavor. She swallowed against the regret that rose up inside her.

He took her wrists in his hands and, gently but surely, pulled her to her feet. He stepped forward, taking her mouth in his before she could protest. The kiss was lingering, and he luxuriatingly claimed the last taste of the apple from her lips.

"Now you are mine," he murmured.

And she was.

It was raining flowers.

Roksana pressed her face to the glass, splaying her fingers out along the cool, flawless surface. The flowers fell as tight, perfect buds, then slowly spiraled open to layered petals as they drifted past the wide windows. They were soft rose in color with faint violet undertones.

"Did you find him?" she asked, watching as perfectly shaped petals detached and fell freely.

A weary sigh was heard behind her. "No."

"When will you go out again?" She tried to peer into the darkness below her, the yawning abyss, to see where the flowers went. But it was as impossible as always to pierce that soft darkness.

"Roksana, this is very tiring for me."

That made her turn. The speaker, a bronze-skinned man, was lying on his back on one of the raised daises, his long, pale hair falling away from his face like a spill of wheat. The room was deserted but for the two of them. It was a curious construct: water flowed over and down the walls in soft rippling streams, swamping the floor. There the water pooled – five feet deep or twenty-five, no one knew. Wide stone pathways rose up from out of the water in rigid geometric patterns. They wandered aimlessly from wall to wall, from the incredible glass window at one end to the doorway at the other. At times they crossed each other's path, converging into circles: angular blossoms, like lilies strewn across dark, rippling surface of the water.

"Don't you want to find him?" she demanded, one hand still pressed against the cold, clear window-glass.

"Of course."

"Then why –"

"Because I've looked everywhere," he said angrily, opening his eyes to glare at her. "Every kingdom, every layer of the earth – even the dreamscape. He's not there." He closed his eyes again, turning his face back to the ceiling. "Whatever hiding place he's chosen, he chose well. No one seems to know where he's run to."

She scowled. "He's not hiding. Not from us."

"Who else would you suggest?"

She put her back to the glass, allowing herself to slide down to sit on the floor. She contemplated her hands for a moment, frowning in concentration. "Even the mortal realm?" she asked suddenly.

Another sigh. "You know I can't wander there – not without being noticed. None of us can."

She surged to her feet, almost tripping on her long skirts – still in the archaic style she had worn, oh so long ago. "You said everywhere," she cried. "How could you swear to being him back to me and then give up the search?"

That made him sit up, swinging his legs over the edge of the dais so they dangled close to the still dark water. "And how would you propose I continue?" he asked angrily.

"Ask the Labyrinth to help you," she countered. "Borrow its power."

He gave a polite snort. "The Labyrinth is not in the most congenial of moods. It refuses to cooperate with me – in fact, I barely managed to get inside its gates."

This gave her pause. "You traveled the Labyrinth?"

He shrugged. "No. But I wanted to see what was left of his City."

"And?"

"Everything except for the castle. I was fairly surprised."

"So am I. I would have supposed that his goblins had run rampant by now."

"That was the surprising part. Apparently they have elected new leaders."

"What?" she cried in amazement. "Impossible. He was –"

"I know. But those I talked to – the coherent ones, that is – insisted it was true. They believe Jareth to be dead."

Roksana sneered, crossing her arms. "Nonsense."

"Nonetheless, they seemed convinced. They claimed the castle killed him as it fell."

She rolled her eyes. "Athan, I do not understand why you insist on hearing such prattle." She turned back to the window, staring moodily at the cascading blossoms outside.

"They are creatures of more interest than you would expect." He smiled to himself. "You haven't asked me how the castle fell."

"Oh?" she asked in a disinterested voice. "Tell me."

"The goblins did not know, exactly. But they did know this – there was a young girl involved."

Roksana stilled.

"They swore to me that they knew this girl. That she had been in the Labyrinth once before."

Slowly, ever so slowly, Roksana turned to stare at him.

"And she had defeated Jareth."

"That's impossible," she whispered through dry lips. "He would never allow himself to be conquered… never expose such vulnerability as to be defeated."

Athan's smile broadened, but he kept silent.

"And she returned, they said, after vanquishing him once before?"

"Apparently he stole a dear friend of hers into the Labyrinth."

"A child?"

"No."

The blood drained from her face. "He would not be so stupid," she said softly. "To anger an enemy that had already proven his better… he would never…"

"Perhaps," Athan said casually, leaping onto one of the regular stone paths, "he was not thinking clearly."

She was silent for a moment. "And why would he not?"

He smiled disingenuously. "You knew him best. Care to venture a guess as to what would so disarm our mutual friend?"

Her eyes burned, hot and dark, in her pale face. "Did you learn nothing else from the creatures?"

"Only that she went into the castle, and that the castle," he spread his arms in a sweeping gesture, "went down. No more than that."

"And what about these new leaders?"

"Ah. Them I could not find. I believe they are under the Labyrinth's protection until the rightful ruler returned."

Roksana was quiet, her head tucked a little downward as she thought. "Athan, she said softly, "this girl…"

"Yes?"

"A mortal girl?" she asked, voice brittle.

"Does he play with any other kind?"

A muscle in her jaw spasmed briefly. "Then we must search Aboveground."

He blinked at her, looking a little surprised. "You're not suggesting that – surely you don't think –"

"Can you do it?"

He bit down on his questions. "No," he said shortly.

"Then I will ask the Labyrinth to help me."

"Roksana, it will not –" He turned to watch as she brushed past him, her skirts billowing out above the water and creating a spill of ripples in her wake. "Roksana!"

She was gone before the echoes died.

Athan suddenly slumped where he stood, the energy going out of his powerful frame as he reached to one of the high, circular daises for support. He passed a hand over his face, and there were deep lines at the sides of his mouth that were born of anguish rather than age. "Jareth," he breathed. "Don't let it be true. Please… tell me you were not so foolish. Not you as well."

Outside the sun came out, and the pale flowers burned to ash.

She appeared on the barren hill between one breath of wind and the next, only a faint heat shimmer preceding her existence. The breeze kicked up clouds of dry dirt at her feet, tossing her night-black hair behind her.

Roksana ignored the dust thrown into her face and made her way down, stepping adroitly over fallen branches and unearthed tree roots that snaked across the red-brown earth. She slowed as she reached the main gates, taking in the changes that had occurred since her last visit.

The gates had become overgrown. But overgrown in the way of fairytales and legends, in the kind of stories parents tell their children to scare them into being good. The ivy, a thick and velvety darkness of green that swallowed sunlight, cloaked the high walls that bordered the maze. They had insinuated themselves into every crack of mortar and niche of brick until they covered the surface so entirely the rippling, rustling leaves appeared to be the hide of a gently sleeping beast.

She contemplated the sight for a moment, head slightly to one side. And then:

"You're in pain," she said softly.

The leaves whispered.

"I am, too."

They quieted for a minute, and then the wind kicked them into cacophony.

"I suppose this is your way of protecting yourself." She straightened her head. "I remember how you are, you see. You need dreams to sustain yourself, and you feed off of life on the Aboveground. Without him, you have no way of attaining that life – those pieces of humanity which you warp to your own desire and spin into glorious fantasy."

Her eyes filled with fiery tears. "You must be so lonely."

Slowly, methodically, she undid the ties that knotted a knife safely in its sheath, which rested on her belt. She drew the blade out in one swift, practiced motion. But once it was free she held it out awkwardly, as if afraid it might suddenly turn on her.

"Yes," she whispered softly. "I know how you are." Hesitantly, she laid the knife lengthwise across the soft flesh of her palm, loosely encircling it with her fingers. "But blood is almost as good as dreams." Her eyes darkened. "And I was human, once."

Then she sliced herself open.

She gasped as she did so, her body swaying with the viciousness of the act. She opened her hand to see to blood welling from the cut, already sticky against her skin. Without looking up, she spoke again:

"Blood for magic. Take my dreams, even. Just help me find him."

She moved forward like a sleepwalker, unfocused and stumbling over the uneven terrain. She stopped when she was less than a foot from the ivy, which seemed to tremble at her approach. Slowly, as if it took great effort, she pressed her bloody hand to the wall. It passed through the leaves like they water, and then… then, instead of stone and mortar, her hand pressed into warmth and unresisting softness.

And something began to lick at the blood.

She gave an inarticulate cry, cringing, but didn't draw away. She had no idea what was happened, but the unmistakable sensation of a rough, scraping tongue was sliding along the stinging flesh. Some kind of tiny creature was feeding on her. She shuddered, almost falling, as others joined it – a multitude of tiny hands and tongues latching onto the wound, impossibly tiny fingers digging into her skin to make the blood rise. This was too much, and she reached with her other hand to brace herself against the wall as she pulled away – but it fell through as well, and she found herself on her knees, screaming. Something – not the creatures from before, something else – rose up from behind the wall like a dark cloud, reached into her mind, and pulled.

-- running breathless away from the camps laughing at her speed at the wind in her hair and the way it whipped her long skirts around her legs

"Come back!"

but she would never come back she was free and she was beautiful and she could run faster and they would never catch her

"Roksana, that's too far!"

and the forest was full of shafts of light that threw her into blindness and she didn't care because she was like a bird that flew close to the ground and even the older boys couldn't catch her and she would always laugh and laugh

"Roksana, Mama said not to go near the house!"

and she was barreling past a gate but so fast she hardly noticed, she was transfixed by the colors of the turning leaves that filled her eyes she didn't notice she was running straight into a garden and accidentally tipped something over that was burning and smelled like herbs only they stung her eyes and nose even she turned away and coughed as she moved away

Roksana!"

and barreled straight into the man with the dark hair and the cruel mouth the one mama always made the sign of the evil eye when she spoke of the man whose was allowing them to use his land and he pulled her up off the ground hands hooked under her arms and pulled her up to look him in the eye and he was so angry

"I thought I told you gypsy brats to stay away from here."

and she could see a spiraling point of light in his eyes and he was hurting her he was holding on so hard and she kicked and struggled and cried because she knew something was wrong, something was so wrong and he was so angry with her she hadn't meant it

"Maybe I needed an example to prove my point, hmm?"

she was sorry she didn't mean to

"Then I will make you my example, little gypsy bird."

and then what he did what he did –

Roksana screamed again, buckling under the force of memory. "Take it," she sobbed. "Take it, I don't care!"

-- and the others when they had seen her when they had seen her eyes and the way she cried when they beat her for running away and the drops of flame that fell on the dry dusty earth they had turned away from her and mama too and they left her behind and they tied her to a tree so she couldn't follow them and then she had learned she had found out hungry and cold and thirsty and in pain from the ropes around her what else the magician had given her besides eyes that cried fire

and then she flew –

"I want you to take it," she said fiercely, tasting tears. "I never want to remember this again."

--and she traveled and was captured and escaped and was captured and was worshipped and then she escaped again and hunted as a demon and ran away and adored and held prisoner and then one day a tsar's son came over the wall and let her free

and then she met him –

"No," Roksana whispered, her body sagging.

-- and there were so many memories here so many dreams about him and the way he kissed her and they way he touched her and the things he showed her and the heat in his eyes when she danced for him and how he made her laugh again and the beauty in hating the rest of the world if you had one person who loved you --

"No," she murmured again. But she was weak, she was drained, and the leaves filled her mouth and muffled her protests. "You can't have those."

-- and the way he sang --

"No."

And it stopped.

Roksana sighed sleepily. The ivy had grown over her, she realized slowly, and she was cradled in that emerald-green embrace, close to the smooth walls – which was, now, only stone. Her cheek was pressed to the cool surface, and around her the leaves whispered, half-formed words they cast to the uncaring wind. She could leave, she knew. She wasn't confined, only comforted in exchange for her gift, for the power it had taken from her blood and her dreams. But first…

"You will find him for me, won't you?" she whispered to the Labyrinth.

And it spoke to her in a multitude of voices of trees and flowers and creatures and stone and earth, voices she could remember singing them both to sleep beneath a moon almost too big for the sky as they lay in each other's arms.

Yes, the voices answered. We will.

"You're holding out on me."

"Am not." A muffled giggle.

"Sarah, you should know by now that hiding your face in my shirt like that doesn't work for very long. Now, 'fess up."

"Make me."

He tickled her ribs through her thin shirt and she squealed, twisting around him in a way that would have been very interesting, except he had priorities, here. "Do you concede, my lady?"

"Never!"

"Very well. You leave me no choice." And he began to kiss her neck, her shoulders, anywhere he could reach until she finally looked up and began to kiss him back – which was not very conducive to getting her to talk, but, well… ah, screw priorities.

Getting into the spirit of things, Sarah slipped her hands under his white, button-down shirt, which got a yelp. "Good God, woman," he said, horrified, as he drew back. "Your hands are cold."

Sarah gave him an evil grin. "Make me popcorn."

He glanced at the small television in the corner of his loft, where All About Eve played on, forgotten. And then looked down at her, carefully insinuated around him so that they both fit on the narrow couch. "I'm really very comfortable," he said earnestly.

She kissed him, briefly. "Make me popcorn and I'll tell you what Brian said about your CD."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

He sighed heavily. "The things I do for love."

She watched as he managed to detangle himself. "The things you do for ego, you mean," she said impishly.

"Not so!"

"Then you don't want to know what Brian said so you can hurt him?"

He was kneeling on the carpet, unable to keep himself from loosing his balance as he slid off the couch. At this, he turned around and put his hands on either side of her so that his face was just above hers. "The way I figure it," he said easily, leaning on the cushions, "knowing Brian, I'll have to thrash him either way. This way I get to determine the appropriate level of thrashing, which keeps it all aboveboard and in good fun."

"I'll never understand boys," Sarah said, amused.

He leaned in to kiss her slowly, one hand caressing the side of her face and smoothing her hair away from her neck. "I," he whispered against her lips, "am most definitely not a boy." And then he drew back and leapt to his feet.

"Hey!" Sarah struggled to sit up, still a little bemused by the kiss. "Where are you going?"

He turned, walking backwards with his hands in his pockets. "I thought you wanted popcorn," he said innocently.

Sarah made a face. "I changed my mind."

Jareth laughed. "Too late. Now I'm hungry." And he disappeared into the kitchen.

Sarah fell back onto the couch, giggling. One foot dangled over the edge as she tucked her arms behind her head, idly watching as Bette Davis proclaimed she was more than a salted peanut. "Karen says hi," she called.

There was a clatter in the kitchen. " Is she still hanging onto her fetish for fifties bubblegum rock?"

Sarah smiled. "Yep."

"Then I'm still on tour."

She laughed. "And Nikki wants to know if she can parade you around the student center for a little while. She says using a friend's celebrity status to up your own social position is a rule."

"I'll remember that the next time she calls me "the weird-eyed one.""

Sarah snuggled deeper into the corduroy cushions, smiling to herself. She gave a contented sigh. Spring break of her sophomore year, and he was here to spend it with her. She couldn't imagine being happier.

Suddenly there was an odd noise in the room, jarring with the melodic voices of Anne Baxter and Celeste Holm engaged in witty repartee. Frowning, she sat up – and there it was again, that rasping wail that sounded like tortured glass. And it was coming from the direction of the window.

She got up lazily, brushing her mussed hair out of her face as she padded over in her bare feet. Pausing to mute the movie, she yawned absently as she checked her watch – ten thirty – before drawing back the curtain.

And was greeted with dozens of yellow-ringed eyes.

She gasped, hand tightening reflexively on the rough material of the curtain. Owls. There were owls – so many of them – perched on the near-naked tree branches right outside the window. Of all shapes and sizes, in colors dun, brown, and soft snowy white, they stared at her unblinkingly. They were perfectly, absolutely still – unnaturally so.

A cold shiver shot up her spine. Her first thought was to turn and check on Jareth – but she choked the instinct in mid-movement. Breathing shallowly through her mouth, she watched the creatures outside for a reaction, but there was none. Not a feather ruffled.

Out of sight, her other hand reached, slowly, for the bookcase to her right. Her fingertips slid over the spine of a book, and she grabbed it. At the same time, she struggled to open the window glass with her other hand, and the screen after. It shot up, and she hurled the book out the window at the birds. Without looking to see what they had done, she scrambled for another book and threw that one, too, and a third, and a fourth…

Finally, she stopped. Breathing hard, she raised her eyes to the window.

They were gone.

"Sarah?"

She gave a little scream and whirled, hand clapped to her mouth. Jareth stood there, hair falling slightly forward into his puzzled eyes. He placed the bowl of popcorn on the floor near the couch and walked toward his lover, slowly, as if afraid to startle her.

"You okay?" he asked softly.

She nodded silently, hand still over her mouth. He removed it, gently, giving her a careful kiss. His arms went around her and she curled against his chest, shivering slightly. "You sure?"

She cleared her throat. "Yeah," she answered, a little hoarse.

He rubbed her back. "Alright," he said, kissing the top of her head. "But you have to promise to tell me if anything's wrong."

She raised her head, smiling at his beautiful face. "I promise," she lied.

He nodded. "Good." Then he leaned slightly, looking over the windowsill. "So… what exactly is it you have against Phillip Pullman?"

"What?" she asked, startled.

"You just tossed him out the window. Along with Kerouac."

"I'm sorry about Kerouac," she said automatically. "But Pullman tried to supplant the Narnia series. He deserves what he gets."

His lips twitched. "Remind me to hide my paperbacks next time you come over."

She smiled, finally feeling safe again. "Gotcha."

With a final kiss, he released her. Sarah's first thought was to reach for the comfort of his arms again, but she controlled herself. She couldn't let him think anything was wrong.

"I'll go get your books," she said blithely, making her way over to the door.

"Sarah, don't. It can wait until tomorrow."

"No, really, I feel silly now." She slipped her feet into shoes.

"Sarah –"

"I'll be right back!"

She flew down the hall and the entrance stairs, taking the steps two and three at a time. She scolded herself all the way down.

Jeez, you're such a dork. A couple of owls outside the window and you go nuts…You didn't even look that long, I bet it was only two or three. As her heartbeat returned to normal, she began to rationalize the incident. And there you were scaring them off with airborne missiles. If you killed one, you deserve whatever trouble the ASPCA gives you… Really, Sarah, she thought firmly. Pull yourself together.

She opened the front door, pausing to prop it open with a loose brick before circling over to the side of building Jareth's loft looked out. Hands tucked into her jean pockets, she picked her way across the lush green lawn – and froze.

The ground beneath her lover's window was carpeted with feathers.

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Author's Notes:

There was a ridiculous amount of original character interaction in this chapter, which makes me a little chagrined. I swear it was necessary for exposition, and will change faster than you can say "Hey, isn't this fanfiction?" grin

The chapters in this story will be a little shorter than usual (10-15 pages instead of AFOD's 20-30), but I'm hoping that will allow me to update fairly consistently.

And in case anyone hasn't picked up on it yet, this is going to be a dark story. I'm still a little miffed about having to rate AFOD for language, so I fully intend to take advantage of WDMC's R rating. Nothing graphic or what have you, but there'll be a lot more disturbing and unsettling ideas in this one. Not suited for kiddies.

Sax's beta'd this one because Sapphira's life is even more complicated than mine. Give her a kiss for it, then go read her own excellent work here at

YAY RESPONSES TO REVIEWS! (I so love this part.) And because I like it so much I'm determined to keep up with new reviews on the old stories, too, so just look for your category. Unless I emailed you my response.

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For "A Forfeit of Dreams: Epilogue"

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Sax: Okay. You rock. We know this. Moving on. -

Gwen: Can I call you Illowy? It's just so pretty. And I need to email you! whimper I know, I'm so bad. But my original writing is on hold because of school and fanfiction. But at least I get to see you on the boards. But for you, I'll make an effort to churn out more of the story you got. - So glad you liked this! And yes, if the gods are with us, I'm going to try and make Sax bawl again. Heh heh.

Arianne1: Thanks! That's quite a compliment. I hope you enjoyed this, too.

Jester3: Yay! Thanks so much, luv.

ALadyGrinning: You're definitely on my list. grin I have a bunch of fics I'm currently wading through, so it may take me some time… but feel free to poke me whenever you get impatient. I need to be poked sometimes. P That said, I hope you liked the beginning!

Alorindanya: Thank you. - I hope you liked it – let me know either way.

Lady Cailin: Hey, babe! Ah, well, we talk on email all the time, this feels silly. - I'm ready and waiting to beat the rest of you 'fic out of you!

Cormak: I certainly hope you like it as much! Ugh, I feel a little uncertain about this "fanfic of a fanfic" thing, but hey, it'll be fun. But I'm relying on you guys to let me know when I've gone off track! - And, as always, I'm so flattered to hear from you. Take care!

Goldenfire: Whoops! I guess it's sexist of me to assume all Labyrinth fans are women. blushes Sorry about that. LOL! Well, I really hope you like the sequel as well. And at this rate, I'll be writing for a looooooong time… ideas and projects keep popping up. So I guess I'm creating in self-defense, eh? Although… being wished away sounds better and better as I think about it… - Oh, you'll have fun, then. When it all comes down? Fireworks. F#cking fireworks.

Queen Bonnie: Thank you! Well, if you've found this, you know there's lots to come!

Draegon-fire: Heh heh heh. I'd tell you, but Roksana'd gut me. And thanks! Hope you like it.

Shy Magical: Hee. Why'd you fall, hon? But I'm glad you liked it… at least, I think you did. Not sure! -

Robin C. Rivero: Okay, once again, THANK YOU for the absolutely lovely emails you sent. I'm pretty sure I responded to them all… But anyway. Reviews from you are always an absolute treat, so it's with complete selfishness I say that I hope to hear from you often over the course of the sequel. Take care!

Eruesse: Thanks so much! Hope you liked this, too.

Lallie: Thanks so much! Yeah, life can often get completely crazy. What is it Lennon said? "Life is what happens when you have other plans." Anyway, I hope you like this as well!

Midnight Lady: You know what's funny? I always look for a review from you when I post. You're just so darn consistent reviewing every chapter – it totally rocks. And I'm so glad you liked it! As for Jareth staying human… well, I can't say anything or it would give a lot away. - Lemme just state that experiences change people, even immortals.

Little-raziel: Thank you! Here you are. Hope you liked it.

Illaona: LOL – you're a riot. I'm so glad you liked it! And I'll be sure to hop over eventually and review your story – and like aladygrinning, feel free to poke me if you get impatient so I don't forget. - And you are NEVER a pest, trust me.

Aly: Thank you so much! I'm glad I was able to surprise you. Hope yuo liked it!

Baka Neko Miki Chan: pats head There there… just remember to breathe… -

Emerald Sky: Heehee. As requested – here's more! Take care, hon!

Gothic Temptress: Thanks! Yup, they're after him, all right. (And I still love the name Sasha.) Take care!

Liz Montrose: Wow, thank you so much, hon. I'm glad I could provide entertainment. And I finally read and reviewed your stories. Take care!

Caroline Carmicheal: No forgiveness needed! Thanks so much for your review, and I hope you like this chapter as well!

Baka-sama2: Thank you for the wonderful blessings. -

Fuzzy Panda Kim: You're not blocked on my present email. Otherwise, I'm glad you liked it.

CherryBomb: Thanks, hon! I followed your advice as best I could (You'll see I put a note in the summary section), and thanks so much for bringing that up. I really appreciate it. Heehee. But, anyway, glad you liked it! And I hope you enjoy this as well.

Syvia: Oh, lord, please, that was alllll my fault. - You'd think I could write faster sometimes. But life just had it in for me lately. I'm sorry. But I'm glad you DID catch it! I believe I actually said this in a review of you own story – which I liked – but no, the little guys weren't killed off. The chapter "Perchance to Dream" had a part where Sarah mentions how they fared. Anyway, hope you enjoy the ride!

Waterlilly0903: grins So glad you liked it! Tht wasn't actually the sequel – THIS is! So I hope it lives up to expectations. Take care!

Beserker: Thankee, darlin', and hope you enjoy!

Tarryn: Please call me Kat. - As for the rest… I can't really take all the credit. I would have never finished if it hadn't been for my friends, who beta'd and encouraged and talked me through tough spots every step of the way. But thank you so much for you review, and I hope this sequel lives up to expectations.

Sharkdiver: Heehee – right. Of course, I LOVE your fic, and can't wait to get time to finish it. P M'excited that you finished, and re-watched Clerks just so I could refresh my memory. Thanks for reviewing!

Dahlia: Thanks so much! I always love getting your detailed reviews. grin And I have to admit, I never finished the Susan Cooper series ("Dark is Rising," so on) because I never wanted it to end! Oops. Um, without giving too much away… that won't be QUITE how it works. evil grin But I'm still aiming for that trophy, you betcha. And I'm so glad you were looking forward to a sequel. I hope you enjoy it. My responses? Well, it only seems fair… You guys take the time to talk to me, I am more than happy to talk back. Besides, this way I get to know you guys on an interactive level, which rocks. And Poe ROCKS. I finally got her brother's book, which apparently goes along with the "Haunted" album.

ThistleDemon: Aww, thankee luv. Now, I'm just noticing you email in this review. Yes, yes it's definitely there. Which means I was a definite dork and didn't respond by email like I promised. Gah. I'm sorry! But thanks so much for reviewing. And things will change, just watch.

Sylvan: And thank YOU for reviewing. - If you want the alt chapter, email me. I'm sorry, but I made this a rule a while ago because of the rampant confusion, otherwise.

Starmaster: WOW! Okay, your review made my week. - I have to run, but… gah! Okay, I'll try and respond by email at some later date. Suffice to say, THANK YOU! I'm so glad you liked it, and hope the rest is enjoyable as well. Take care! (and about Jareth – I made no promises. -)

Sketch: Thank you! And it was great to hear from you via email – have you posted your story yet? Don't worry, there'll be more Nikki again – though she's not Sarah's best friend, just a good friend and a roommate. Brian's her best friend. And it's both the epilogue AND a companion piece, so… ah, well, it worked out. - Hope you enjoyed!

Nicessus: It took me forever to remember your SN was from the Meredith Gentry books. Anyway, thanks so much for reviewing, and take care!

J-mie: Thanks, doll! No, I don't think he was evil, either. Just… unscrupulous. grin Again, thanks, and I hope you enjoyed.

Boguswoman: Oh, no, I really do love hearing from everyone. - Thanks so much for finally saying hi! I'm glad you came aboard. - If you want the alt chapter, I'd be happy to send it to you if you just email me! I hope you liked this as well.

Lady Jamie: Oh, hon, please – I'm the last person who can chide someone else about not updating or reviewing or whatever because of personal stuff. That said, of course, I'm SO GLAD to hear from you! And I'm glad you liked it. My original stuff is on hiatus presently, but I'll be sure to send you some chapters sometime. - All my best.

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New reviews to "A Forfeit of Dreams":

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Starbrow: soothes There, see? It all worked out. - I'm sad you didn't like the ending – did you ever email me for the alt chapter? But I hope you like the sequel, then… Anyway, thanks so much for your, er, colorful review! (hee) All my best.

Thistledemon: LOL. Hey, babe. I remember I first got these reviews in opposite order via email, which was probably a good thing, considering. But I'm glad you were happy in the end – and thanks for your reviews!

Tor Walker: Thank you so much for your wonderful review. I hope you liked this chapter as well. I don't mean to be mean – really, I don't – but if you want the alt chapter, you have to email me. I'd be HAPPY to give it to you, honest. But if I don't respond to an email, I have a hell of a time keeping track of who got what. Sorry. But again, I really loved getting you review!