"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 SIX

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"Once upon a time."

Words with power.

Words that can shape belief, carve a complete pantheon from nothing but a vague fear of the unknown.

And so out of the darkness of the world's dawn they were born, beings so tightly intertwined with the myth it was impossible to tell where flesh ended and legend began. It was unknown whether their lives created the stories or the stories brought them to life, only that they could be found in many countries, across many cultures. They wore different names and faces with each new border crossed, and the details of their myths shifted like the wind, but the core of the tale remained. Death who loved a maiden. The dark prince of delicious nightmares. The bright bird that burns like a meteor across the sky. The woman who spills blood to turn the sun. Among each other they have their own names, separate from those recorded in temples or told by the fireside. And while the rest of the world named them gods, or monsters, or demons, they who are stories come to life know each other by another title.

They call themselves Incarnates.

---

Roksana was hiding from the screams.

Ever since returning from the Aboveground, they'd haunted her. Walking along the torch-dark corridors, they'd followed her. Watching the sun set fire to the sky through the fortress's high windows, they'd stolen her breath away. And wherever she ran, they dogged her footsteps: to the library and its rising cliffs of yellowed tomes, into the musty, rusty air of the armory, and even amidst the jewel-like colors of the decaying butterfly gardens. They always found her.

The sound of screams was like a cold hand against her ribs, a malevolent pressure that drove the air from her lungs and tied an icy knot in her stomach. It the stifling silence like so much fragile glass. And every time, Roksana felt them send another crack shivering along the surface of her soul.

Athan found her in the same room in which he had professed his failure at trying to find her lost love, the cavern of walled water and flowered stone. There the screams were tossed forever between the limits of its space, the echoes lovingly drawn out -- like the end of a bedtime story. He waited until the last vestiges lapped into water before speaking.

"What is that?" Visibly shaken.

Roksana was sitting on another of the water lilies angled out of slate and mica, knees drawn up to her chest. "Who do you think it is?"

Athan didn't venture past the room's threshold, or choose to follow the scattered pattern of stones rising from the water. He only watched her gravely, not really understanding. "Jareth?"

She shut her eyes, shut out the world.

"Since when?"

"Since we returned," she whispered.

"That's not good."

"It gets worse."

"How?"

She had to hide her face from him, choking on disgust and fear. "He's dreaming."

Athan stilled. "What?"

"You heard me." Her raised eyes were red and narrowed. "He has dreams. He falls asleep, and then – " She had to swallow. "Like a human."

He hesitated. "Are you sure?"

Her laughter was small within the great room, the echoes dropping into the depths like small coins. "I asked him."

---

"Do you know you have a birth mark, here? Right above your hip bone."

"That's a freckle. Me and Nikki were at the pool yesterday, in the sun."

"Ah, I see. You change your spots. Shame on those lazy leopards."

"Hardy har." She shifted, tugging the hem of her shirt away from curious fingers. "You're supposed to be helping me study."

"I am."

"You were. You have the attention span of a three-year-old." She giggled at his resulting expression. "Don't worry, I still love you."

"Oh, that's a great comfort. Insult me all you like, just keep saying that."

She wound her fingers in his hair and pulled him down for a kisses in between her giggles as he tickled her stomach.

And he woke up.

There was a moment, when, in opening his eyes to the darkness, he knew nothing but blissful ignorance of where and even who he was.

Then Jareth remembered.

And he pressed the palms of his hands his closed eyes, and let all of his rage and hurt and frustration and agony and betrayal come screaming up from his gut.

---

She would always seek him out after it had passed, compelled to see him, hear him, make sure he had survived these transient terrors. She felt even more possessive of him since returning home -- the first few days she'd been unable to stop touching him, just running her hands over his arms, or back, or face, making sure he was there, he was whole. He'd always stood quietly under her touch, but never returned it.

It was easy to find him. He was always in the same place; a little corner alcove that had once, she supposed, been a study -- it held books like the library, but was smaller, intended for individual use. There was a desk at one end, its lock rusted shut. Yellowed map edges uncurled from the walls, plotted places even she'd never heard of. A few portraits hung as well, their sitters so obscured by grime and decay only parts of them were still visible -- here the graceful lay of two slender hands, here the corner of a slyly smiling mouth, here a boldly staring pair of blue eyes.

There were candles in every corner, burning as eternally as the torches that lit the fortress' hallways. Their light flickered over his prostrate form where he lay in a nest he had bundled together from stray linens -- she had no idea where he'd found them. There was no need for things like that in this fortress.

"Are you alright?" she asked softly, hesitating on the threshold.

"No."

Slowly, almost shy, she bundled up her skirts so that she could kneel easily beside him. "Is there anything I can do?"

"No."

The same questions, with the same answers, every time.

Roksana let her head fall forward, heavy masses of night-dark hair spilling over her shoulders. She was quiet for a long time, watching his face. His eyes never opened.

"Jareth." The name was gentle, and terribly timid. "What are you..." She had to swallow past sudden panic. "I mean... what frightens you so much? About... them." She couldn't bring herself to say: dreams. Not yet.

"You don't want to hear it."

"No," she protested, worrying the fabric of her skirts between nervous hands. "No, I do."

"No, you don't."

"I do!" she leaned forward on her hands so that her hair tickled his face. He raised a hand to brush it aside, but still didn't look at her. "Please," and she lay down beside him, tucking the angles of her body into his so that they fit like puzzle pieces. "Please," she whispered into his ear, "tell me."

He -- finally! -- opened his eyes to stare up at the rotted and peeling paint above them on the ceiling. "It's just the other side of the mirror," he said wearily. "They travel our lands when asleep, so it would appear that when we --"

Roksana went rigid beside him. "You go back there?" she asked, suddenly terrified.

"No. I remember it. Relive it."

"Oh." She relaxed, shifting so that her head lay on his chest. "But why would that..?" She stopped. "You remember her, don't you?" She sounded brittle.

"Yes."

Her hands came up to grip his shirt. That was another worrying point -- he still wore the clothes of the Aboveground.

"She didn't love you," she hissed. "She took everything from you. Even your life."

"I fear we have rather a persuasive argument against that last point."

"Well. She tried."

"I know." He stroked her hair absently, soothing her fury. "I remember."

She burrowed closer, mouth above his sharp collarbones. As she spoke, her hot breath burned against the bared skin. "She can't hurt you anymore. You don't have to be afraid."

That made him move away, and he ended up sitting upright, back to the wall. "You don't understand," he said shortly.

"Then tell me!"

He drew his knees up and rested his forearms against them, hands hanging idly from his wrists. "I relive my humanity," he said after a moment. "Piece by piece. And I remember..."

"What?"

He ran a hand through his hair, pulling it back with aborted violence. "I don't understand," he spoke softly to himself. "If doesn't make any sense."

Roksana made as if to move closer, then stopped. She spoke quietly, as if not wanting to remind him she was in the room: "What is it?"

"She seemed so happy."

Roksana's breath came a bit quicker.

"She seemed in love."

"She wasn't!" Roksana's fists hit the blankets with a dull thump.

"I know that." His hands revived, fingers threaded together. "But the dreams are very persuasive."

"So?"

"So..." His thumbs tapped each other. "So I have... questions."

Roksana shifted until she lay on her stomach, sniffling into -- like a bed, like a real bed -- feather-filled pillows and the rough-napped blanket.

"I hope I haven't made you cry. That's all extremely flammable."

At that she actually had to laugh, the sound somehow choked and strange. "What will you do now?" she asked, voice unnaturally high and thin.

He was quiet. She couldn't tell, with her back turned, if he looked at her or away. "Look for answers," he said finally.

"Why?" she asked quaveringly. "Why can't you just be with us?"

"I would think the answer would be obvious. You're lying on it, in fact."

That took her a moment to work out. "So what?" she demanded, sitting up abruptly to see his face. "Anyone who spent so long as... well, with them, anyway --"

"You had it right the first time, Firebird."

She went very still. "I told you not to call me that," she said -- but her lips barely moved. She looked turned to stone.

"You did. But I thought some bracing honesty might be refreshing." She shifted her eyes away from his direct gaze, refuse to rise to the bait. "I was one of them, Roksana," he continued flatly. "Or as near as we can come to it."

"Not for long," she shot back.

"No." He brought his hands up to his face, flexed them, and ran a finger along the smooth palm. "But long enough."

"It can't matter," she said desperately. "Not in the face of... not after so long as... as..."

"As just a story?" he finished for her, patiently. "A fairytale, even?"

Her expression, on anyone less righteously angry, might have been called a pout. "I was not a story," she muttered.

"Not at first, Firebird. But you became one." He tilted his head to one side, noting dispassionately: "It happens differently for each of us."

She picked up a pillow and threw it at him, dismayed when it didn't even reach his booted feet. "Stop calling me that!" she cried.

He sighed, looking suddenly weary. He climbed to his feet slowly, hunched against the wall in a way that hinted he needed it -- needed something to support him. "This," he said flatly, "is not getting us anywhere."

She picked up the remaining, defenseless pillow -- and, well, bit it. She clamped a corner between her sharp white teeth with the desperation of a very young child, trying not to cry out. It would have looked funny, except... it wasn't, Jareth reflected somberly. It was just very sad.

Roksana was finally able to calm herself, putting the pillow into her lap and smoothing the tiny marks her teeth had left. "Where will you go?" she asked quietly.

He sighed. It was all the response she needed.

"When will you come back?" she asked stiffly.

"I don't know. Does it matter?" he asked casually, almost brutally. As the Labyrinth's time was slower than Aboveground's, so time as it moved in the fortress was that much quicker than either -- no matter how long he stayed in his abandoned kingdom, it would only feel like moments to her.

"Of course it matters," she said softly, almost under her breath. "It always matters."

"Well." He pushed himself away from the wall abruptly, shaking his still-short hair out of his eyes. "I need to go. I've wasted too much time here... daydreaming. As it were."

Roksana's throat worked, as if a multitude of words were fighting to get out. She swallowed them down painfully, finally choosing to be succinct. "Stories," she said, sounding strained, "don't dream."

That made him hesitate. A strange, reluctant sort of smile spread slowly over his face. "I wonder," he said, bemused, "if this is my -- very fitting -- punishment for breaking that rule."

Roksana watched as he left quickly. It took a moment or so for the impact of his parting words to hit her -- she flushed, then paled, and bit her lip.

"No," she whispered, trembling. "No, I don't believe you."

But fear uncurled in the pit of her stomach.

---

He had been walking barely five minutes before Athan found him.

"Leaving so soon?"

Jareth's eyes narrowed as he muttered: "Not at this rate."

"Pardon?"

Jareth turned to face his old -- very old -- friend, who had suddenly appeared only a few steps behind him. Athan leaned with one shoulder against the cold stone walls of the corridor, arms crossed as his hair fell forward to obscure his face. "Yes," Jareth said shortly. "There are some pressing matters."

"I walked through the Hall of Fates."

"Really? I envy your expanses of free time."

Athan's expression darkened. "Don't play games with me. Not about this."

"You haven't even said what this is about yet -- unless it's my turn to tidy up, in which case those matters have become even more pressing."

"Your emblem is gone."

"... your point being?"

"Where is it?"

"Does it matter?"

"Of course it matters!" He pushed himself off the wall to stand with both feet planted on the ground, arms at his sides, hands balled into fists. "Where is it?"

"Please." Jareth bared his teeth in a sneer. "An owl entirely of gold? It was terribly tacky. I pitched it."

"Jareth." On the edge of despair, this time, unwilling to play into the joke. Not thinking of it as a joke.

The guilty party sighed and rubbed his temples with one hand, grimacing.

"It's with that girl, isn't it?"

Jareth scowled.

"You gave it to Sarah Williams." Athan shook his head slowly. "You fool."

The hand slipped over his eyes, now. It trembled, very slightly.

Athan watched, not missing a detail. His eyes were achingly sad. "My dear friend," he said slowly, voice heavy with pity, "did you learn nothing from my mistakes?"

The hand pushed back hair over his forehead to reveal eyes bright with anger -- or maybe even unshed tears. "It doesn't matter," he insisted, sounding hoarse. "None of it matters. It was all a lie."

He strode away, his turned back an obvious indication that the conversation was finished.

For a long moment Athan simply stood where he was, unseeing eyes directed at the floor. Then, with a shudder, he turned, and began to walk in the opposite direction.

The fortress was a maze in itself, riddled with staircases and hidden corners, spiced with interconnecting chambers that granted access to otherwise unreachable floors. He chose one of these, slowly finding his way to a door that was pitted and eaten away, as if in neglect.

Softly, he knocked.

A very strange-looking girl came to the door. Her skin was the dead white of fresh snow. Her eyes were as blue as beads, and her mouth was the color of winter berries. She wore a rough, full skirt, and a kerchief over her white-pale hair.

"Is your mistress in?" he asked her, voice low. She often wasn't -- she had a tendency to disappear for days, and he could only assume she was wandering the twisting walks of the fortress. Alone.

The girl didn't answer, only pulled the door open with a swift curtsey before melting into the shadows. She knew to make herself scarce.

The room was dark, even for this fortress in a shadow-land. The air was hot and heavy; it left a faint, sour taste in the back of his throat when he swallowed. It was the flavor of old anger that had ripened past spoiling, that had fermented, and become addicting.

Athan sometimes wondered if she could live without it.

"Aracelis," he called softly into the gloom.

There was no response. There never was.

He made his way through the darkness according to memory and instinct. These had once been their rooms -- once upon a time -- so he managed to reach the window without injury.

He found there (as he knew he would) a silent, seated figure draped in heavy, dark veils -- thick and opaque, secured at the waist, wrists, and throat by smooth ribbons of an even darker color. The veils were long enough to cover the entire body, even when standing, and while sitting they rippled along the floor like murky waters. The figure was a woman, though that was barely discernable -- even the features of her face were obscured, the outline of her eyes and mouth just visible in the brightness of the setting sun.

This was Aracelis.

Athan stood beside her chair, gazing for a moment at her hands, resting on the armrests. The veils fell far past them, and he could just -- but only just -- make out the shape of her fingers.

"Jareth bonded a mortal."

If his words had any meaning to her -- if she even heard them in the first place -- she gave no sign.

"I wish I could have stopped him," Athan continued wearily. "I would have given anything... I would have stolen his damn emblem away and hidden it, if I had thought... if I had even guessed... what was happening."

The faintest quiver of the veil over her face that might have been lashes, brushing against it from the inside.

"I'm afraid for him. Bonding a mortal..." Athan paused. "What's to keep them from becoming like us? What's to save her from suffering... like --"

Unthinking, he had reached out to take that shrouded hand. A moment before he touched her Aracelis stood, veils whispering, and smoothly turned to walk into the next room. No glance, no word, not even a hope that she had acknowledged his presence.

He stood for a long time like that, his hand still hovering above the armrest of the heavy chair, poised before that longed-for touch. Finally, slowly, he turned his hand over -- rubbed his thumb lightly over fingers that had forgotten the feel, the warmth of the person he loved most in all the worlds.

"I couldn't even stop myself," he admitted helplessly, in his solitude.

---

Soft winds swept across the ruin of the Labyrinth. It kicked up dust from the dry ground, grasses grown sparse and withered across the cracked earth. All the colors had faded, their vibrancy stolen by the blazing sun set high in the pale blue sky. The air itself was stale and somehow heavy, smothering the land to stillness.

Well, almost.

"Ahem. Kindly remove your foot from my eye, if you please."

"Verily, sirrah. If thou wilt but take away thy monstrously bulbous head!"

"You perdiferous creature. I agree that space is limited behind this miserable outcropping of rock. But if we are to remain unseen, one must realize that the perspective of scholarly analysis and observation must reign over that of an ambiguously fox-like creature with a pinprick sword!"

"Wilt thou insult me so? En garde!"

"Aw, you two are foolin' yourselves if y'think we're hidin' from anyone. Not with this hairy lunk behind us."

A miserable rumble.

"Grieve not, Sir Ludo. Our craft and cunning shall play upon even the keenest of eyes – if this bat-eared bookworm would but remove his gigantic self!"

"Persnickety mammal!"

"Villainous coward, I will have satisfaction!"

"Hush up!" was the curt demand. "He's comin'!" And then, in a grumbling undertone: "Should've known he wouldn't have stayed dead. Jareth never did nothin' to accomodate nobody."

Silence.

Jareth walked slowly over the crest of the hill. The wind ruffled his pale hair across his forehead and into his eyes. He didn't regard it, instead walking with his gaze downcast, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his ragged jeans. His shoulders were slumped, a crease between his eyes showing he was deep in thought, and oblivious to what was around him.

And where he went, the Labyrinth came alive.

His presence was a catalyst. Each step was like a pebble cast into a pond, the ripples of influence spreading outward with sure and certain speed. It set the land afire with green and growth: grasses growing thick and wild again, interspersed with lush patches of clover, mosses, and the timid sprouts of new plants. Saplings gracefully unwound from the previously dull earth, bark thickening and new shoots emerging as you watched. And all this new life seemed to yearn for him, leaves and branches leaning as if by a sharp breeze, stretching toward his passing figure.

And each time his foot left the ground, flowers bloomed within the barely discernable print: blossoms curling and unfurling into a trail of rampant, rich color he left in his wake. The Labyrinth adoring its resurrected king.

"Damn me," someone breathed shakily, wedged in with the rest of the company behind the aforementioned miserable outcropping. "Damn me."

Someone else whimpered.

Jareth paused. He lifted his hand, distracted. He frowned briefly, appearing to listen to... something. There it was – now they could all hear it. An almost subsonic murmur, a choral whisper of alien voices woven throughout the everyday sounds, the constant and busy workings of a world revived after a very long sleep.

It made Jareth smile, if indifferently. He placed his hand on the surface of a smooth boulder, as if to reassure the very earth. With a crack like a rifleshot the rock split beneath his hand, a stream of cold, clear water bubbling up from the ground and splashing over the dusty stone. The water spilled onto the dusty grass in a sparkling stream, pooling there. What happened next was like water washing over a watercolor and carrying away the scene, but in reverse: a waterfall and lake emerging rapidly from grey and brown smears of earth, the sky turning a deeper blue. Within minutes, impossibly, there stood a perfect oasis in the middle of a barren wasteland.

"Izzee doin' that?" Hoggle managed to get through his teeth in an attempt at whispering.

"No," Chaucer whispered back (more successfully). "Or, I don't think so. I think it's all... it. The Labyrinth."

The encroaching dry rot of the kingdom, which they had ruled for so long in proxy, had slowly eaten away at the entire world. Only the Goblin City and several acres of surrounding land on that side of the Castle remained untouched, at this point. And the last year had been very hard. And the City had flooded with refugees fleeing the dark, glossy ivy that seemed to be swallowing their land whole; its roots sucking the soil barren, leaves eating up the sunshine. Even those that had lived in the first two layers of the maze – made of mostly stone and dirt – had fled to sanctuary, claiming their homes were overtaken. (The Worm family had come with complaints of forever finding the leaves in their tea.)

And then there were those nasty rumors of creatures living in the conquering parasite: vicious little things, it was whispered, with six-fingered hands and tongues that grew teeth. But no one knew what to do about them, so they turned their minds to more pressing concerns.

The four of them watched Jareth together, still crouched uncomfortably. Everyone -- not just the regents, but everyone -- had known that morning the Goblin King had returned. It wasn't just that the air smelled sweeter, or that the sun had risen higher. They just knew. And knowing that he had returned, knowing he was coming ever closer, the citizens of the Goblin City had immediately elected a welcoming party.

Out of Hoggle, Chaucer, Didymus, and Ludo -- who had not volunteered.

If Jareth noticed them, or any of the miraculous transformations happening around him, he gave no hint of it. He turned away from the wonders he had caused with a preoccupied air. A new tree had grown just to his side, its trunk spindly with new growth. Even young, its leaves were still thick upon the branches and dark, trailing across Jareth's shoulder as he passed. He brushed it away absently – and in a moment of ecstasy from his touch, dozens of butter-yellow butterflies burst into being and spiraled into the sky.

And then he stepped up to the Castle.

Ever since the Labyrinth had believed its ruler lost, the Castle had lain where it had fallen undisturbed. The rubble of its former majesty was heaped together on a flat plateau that rose slightly above the surrounding land. The stones were crumbled like dry bread, scabby moss growing over their pale surfaces. A quiet lay over the ruins. The air itself was hushed.

Jareth cast his eyes over the destruction -- what had once been the seat of his terrible power. He remained expressionless. Thoughtfully, he picked his way through the broken stones like the ghost of their former glory, oddly distant from the awe-inspiring ruin. He found a patch of slate tiles set in the dirt, the foundation for steps that had long since toppled into dust. He contemplated the lonely stones for a moment.

He began to walk up the steps.

There was no sign of effort, no indication that he was consciously re-shaping reality. He would simply put his foot down as if expecting to hit a stair, and the stone would rise up from the debris to meet his expectations. Bits and pieces flew up from the ground, coming together in the air like a jigsaw puzzle into the shapes they had once held. Rock shards, mortar dust, cracked marble – all fusing the specific instant it was needed. Creating a skeleton of a stairway he climbed, higher and higher, up to the heavens.

"Is he doin' that?" Hoggle asked, sounding strangled.

Higher and higher.

Chaucer's red eyes were as big as saucers. "Ahhhhh... well... Um. Hem." He cleared his throat and added, weakly: "I don't know."

Higher and higher.

---

Higher and higher.

The wind began to pick up, whipping his shirt about his thin frame. He ignored it – though he did pause for a moment. Lost in thought, Jareth turned to where there had once been a window along this particular stairwell. As he did so it came back into existence, the stones flowing into place to create the window from his memory, the wall it once lived in now hanging unconnected to the steps, suspended in air, the edges of the stone lazily dissipating into empty space. He gazed out for a long time before continuing his ascent.

The room he wanted was his own, the one room within the Castle that held something of himself. No one else had ever been allowed to even step over the threshold.

The floor formed beneath his feet with every step, the walls growing into place just before his outstretched hand lightly brushed against them. Tapestries unfurled their length, loose and decayed threads weaving themselves back into tattered rags, ghosts of their former selves. And further down the stone walls gave way to half-rotted wooden shelves, empty for only minutes before slim volumes drifted up from the ground, far below, to fill them.

This is where Jareth kept a collection of living records.

Chaucer had told Sarah that Jareth kept his own records, plus a few select volumes from Jareth's own existence. But the truth was that the Goblin King owned many more of the than that. As knowledgeable as the former Castle Librarian was, he was still a relatively young demon. There were beings that Chaucer had never even heard of. Tales he had never been told. But Jareth knew them all.

He let his fingertips idle over the smooth spines of the records, tracing the simple gold lettering that spelled out their owners and originators. The records, of course, were indestructible, and had been buried under but not damaged by piles of rubble over the years of neglect. He picked one off the shelf, letting it fall open in his slender hands. The pages were still as smooth as untroubled waters, the precise handwriting as clear as the sky on a winter's night.

He placed the book back where it belonged on the creaking bookcase. His next choice was far more deliberate, decisively picking record from the others with a swift movement. It bore his own name, and below that, a number: One.

The cover was featureless, even innocent-looking. He turned to the first page, knowing what it would hold.

The script, painted in long and quick strikes against the page, was as red as the setting sun.

and with that the Labyrinth arose from the earth as the darkness of the trees fell away and back into the minds of men. And the goblins crawled up from the fires of the center of the world to live in sunlight, and steal the children of the sons of Adam. And they were ruled by the being who called himself Jareth, who stole the souls of the daughters of Eve as he wandered, to and fro, over the earth.

In his shadow there lived a creature of feather and flame who cast her heart at his footsteps, but he did not see her.

And time passed.

Time passed.

Time passed. Time passed. Time passed. Time passed time passed

time passed time passed time passed time passed passed time pas

sed time passed timepassedtimepassedtimepassedtimepassedtime

passedtimepassedtimepassedtimepassedtimepassedtimepassedtim

epassedtimepassedtimepassedtimepassedtimepassedpassedtimep

assedtimepassedtimepassedtimepassedtimepassedtimepassedtim

epassedtimepassedtimepassedtimetimepassedtimepassedtimepa

ssedtimepassedtimepassedtimepassedtimepassedtimepassedtim

epassedtimepassedtimepassedtimepassedtimepassedtimepasse

dtimepassedpassedtimepassedtimepassedtimepassedtimepass

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epassedtimepassedtimepassedtimepassedtimepassedti –

Jareth shut the book with a snap.

He set the record back gently among its brethren. He had long ago given the next eleven volumes to the Castle Librarian. It didn't matter. They held much of the same content, albeit interspersed with the odd tidbit of who ventured into the Labyrinth and why. But the thirteenth book...

He rested his fingers lightly against the edges of its spine. He let them fall away. The thirteenth book held the story of his pendant – or rather, the dream that had been caged inside it. But what did it matter anymore? It had been set loose by a princess in order to defeat the evil magician. To free the enchanted King.

And besides, the dream was now a part of him, as much as the scars were a part of his skin.

Jareth didn't let himself hesitate. He reached another volume of his records – one of those that he had never let out of his sight.

It fell open with a sigh.

Once upon yet another time, in a land known as Labyrinth...

There was a girl in the maze. Jareth knew her for the daughter of his enemy and placed his Eyes upon her, so that she might fail in her quest.

But she did not.

He paused. Pressing his lips tight together, he skipped the next few pages with quick flicks of the wrist.

And when the dark-haired princess had departed Jareth found that his heart had gone a-wandering. He called for it, but there was no answer. He went looking for it, knocking down the clouds in order to search the sky. And when it did not come when he called, and when he could not secret it out from the nooks and crannies of the world, he realized the dark-haired princess must have tucked it into her pocket, and carried it away with a song on her lips.

Jareth's breathing became ragged. He shut his eyes, drawing deep to calm himself before reading on.

So the King of the Goblins swore to catch hers in return.

He closed the book. He had no intention of reading the rest: the careful record of his every detailed plan, every trap he had set and web he had spun. He remembered all that well enough.

Yet another book. The last.

He took it into his hands, which were not -- they were not -- trembling. He smoothed the delicately tooled leather binding, warm as living flesh. Here was the truth. Here was the enduring and objective record of what their last encounter had been like -- each and every cruelty he had suffered at her hands. And she at his. Bracing himself, he opened it to the last pages.

Jareth blinked.

Without looking up, he raised his voice to carry above the wind that ruffled through his pale hair.

"Librarian!"

A guilty silence far below him. Then a scuffle: voices raised in argument. A spindly-limbed demon abruptly pushed from under the brief shelter even as he attempted to backpedal. So ousted, he threw a contrite look to the king above him.

"Come here."

The demon seemed to pale, if that was possible. Shaking, he tottered up the shell of a stairway that wound through the air. He went slowly, very slowly, eyes wide as he saw the ground move farther and farther away from beneath his feet. When he reached the resurrected room at the top he was breathing heavily. Even then, his feet hesitated before the threshold.

Jareth gripped the book at the top of the spine, fingers pressing open the pages to be presented before his servant. "Look at this."

In the midst of the tightly-written scarlet text were blank spaces, ragged holes where the clean page showed through like gleaming bone.

Sections had been erased.

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Notes:

Guess who's back?

Couple things:

There were some references in this WDMC chapter to events in AFOD, namely, the "Once Upon A Dream" chapters, which you may want to skim if you were confused. Listen, there might be a lot of that going on in future. I'm playing with a fully-articulated universe here, and I'm taking no prisoners.

Thanks to both AllisonHarvey for her input on this one, and the kids over at my Yahoo group for their patience, humor, and letting me feed them chapter snippets whenever I felt particularly sadistic. Updates will attempt to be every two weeks, but you know me. Nothing's set in stone. And if anyone gives me a hard time about that, I'm taking my toys and going home, like the mature individual I am.

Also, HUGE THANKS to Lady Tremere to pointing out exactly where a few typos were in the first draft I posted, in order to help me clean up this chapter. Mwa.

It feels good to be back.

(From this point only reviews for WDMC will be answered, as keeping up with the entire 'Dreams' universe made my head spin a little.)

Amber3: Thank you! I don't think you're repeptitive, I think you're awfully nice. And yes, the concert was AMAZING.

Kazuko1: Heh heh. I've no idea how long the story will be, honestly, because I've thrown out all my plans for everything beyond Chapter Eleven. So I'm afraid you'll just have to bite down hard... -

pruningshears Oh, you poor darling. - Heh. Well, as you can see, you got one out of three right... which is pretty damn good, considering that I'm deliberately trying to take this story in unpredictable directions. (I would LOVE to see your fanart of Brian. The boy needs more recognition.) I had a wonderful time at the concert, thank you, and I can promise updates will be much more regular from now on. (and your second review) ... ouch. Yes, very sorry. And oooh, good call -- Athan and Aracelis do play a significant part in the story. A VERY good call... you're spooky. - Trust me, an ending is a long, long way off... hope you enjoy!

sheena Heh heh. I update like the wild wind. - I'm glad you liked it! I am, in fact, trying to be different with this story. I don't know, it might turn out a quite feirce and bitter tale because of it. (Well, I can hope.) I can't answer any of your questions, of course, but I can promise you'll see some of the answers soon!

Cariah Delonne: Thanks so much! Heh, the whistle was enough for me, really. I hope you enjoy the rest as well...

Bratling Heh heh. My Rock is impenetrable. -

Marumae Check: not allowing you to see violent psuedo-Greek epics before you read my fanfic anymore. Thanks so much! I really do try to improve every time, though I know I'm still struggling to be as good as I want to be. It's been so long, but I hope your week (and all the weeks after that) got better.

Your Worshipfulness: ... alright, the unintended accuracy with which you've sort-of predicted some of the stuff to come makes my eyebrows twitch. You haven't been hacking into my computer, have you? Heehee. Thanks again, so glad you liked it.

EvilBunny Isn't he? I just had such a marvelous time, my heart almost burst. You should tell me all about your own concert (I'm serious, tell me!). Actually, you're right -- quite a few of the upcoming chapters are from his POV, or centered on him. He has some things to mull over, and Sarah has... well. We'll see. And, to answer your request -- although I'd love to make my replies more comprehensive by cutting and pasting the questions asked in my replies, it would not only make the reply section even more hideously longer than it is, but probably add another hour or two to a process which already eats up too much time. So, short answer: no, and I'm sorry for the inconvenience.

crazyoldwoman Thanks so much! That was a wonderful review, made me feel all gooey inside. -

Feather Qwill: I know, isn't he awful?

Aly Heh. I hope you said, "take as much time as you want," you knew I'd take it to heart... -

Chicanery: Um... I call it poetic irony. - But I'm glad you, er, liked it! (Hey, is that you on the Lounge boards? If so, it's great to see you!)

alorindanya Oh, darlin', you're always so nice to me. I actually have no idea how it'll end now, since I chucked out most of my plans... Ah, well. We'll see. Mwa.

ThistleDemon ... I think you are my favorite person. Like, ever. - That made me laugh so hard it hurt.

cutemara She married him in Venice in AFOD, that's what he was referencing -- and yeah, Jareth has some issues to resolve.

Ellie101: Heh heh. Yes, I lied when you guessed to well. I am shameful. Except not. Awww, I love it when readers echo my bloody instincts. - Kisses back.

Shelby Heh. Nothing wrong with being a sadist -- or so I assure myself frequently. But thank you so much, and I hope you like the rest as well.

Winter M: nods

scary miss mary: Glad you liked it! The concert was amazing, thanks.

Hey-Diddle-Diddle: Thank you!

mayHeeheehee. Thanks so much -- more will be on the way, I swear.

Leeanna-Marie-Malfoy Um, is that a good thing? I hope you enjoyed it...

Ariana Althena Evergreen: Thanks so much!

Robyn Maddison: Hey hon! Miss you muchly around the boards, you should come and play. And glad you liked it. -

kaio ... I feel like I can't respond to any of your guesses without spoilers, so, um, I'm glad you liked it! (Sorry!) Also, hon, I have to break it to you -- your constant reviews of "update" or so won't make me update faster. (I wish they did.) If I don't update it's due to life-complications, not lack of attention. So just sit tight, yeah?

SilverWing02: Thanks so much! Yes, exams are terrible, stress-inducing things that make me cranky and really not-pretty. No, really. Ugh.

purplerebecca Thanks. -

MidnightLady ... well, if it helps, this is exactly the kind of thing I love to hear. - Someday I hope to incite hoards into emotional-agnst-induced frenzy... Sigh. perhaps someday soon. Oh, hon, don't worry about me. We all gave up on me YEARS ago. Aw! That's so sweet! But I hope you found lots of good stuff during my, er, vacation. Any reccs?

mizzadamz No worries, love, honest. I know you have a hugely busy and important life. As for Sarah letting him run... well... to be honest, she has no way to stop him. But don't worry, he'll suffer. Eventually. If not now. Heehee. Wow. Apparently my kisses do okay! MWA and thanks bunches for the lovely review.

Nicessus Oops. Well, I'm not leaving it that way forever... just almost a year. Sorry.

mooranda Thank you so much! That's such a wonderful compliment -- I sometimes get accused of making Jareth too evil or mean, it's nice to see that not everyone is a fluff addict. Not that I'm not a fluff addict. But I like variety.

Nonsequitur Ha! be as non-eloquent as you like, honest. Though all the chapters will be a tad short -- I did warn everyone from the beginning about that. But thanks so much, just for leaving a review! (and second review) I'm glad you still like it... Updating will commence!

Lady Serade: Hee. Reading your review after all this time makes me so nostalgic -- you me and Sax have to get together sometime, the three of us. I had so much fun with you guys. And yeah, he did hold her, one last time... can I just say, I am SO happy and grateful you're reading this, given your policy on WIPs. (I solemnly swear it will be completed, eventually.) It's just such a boost to know you're reading.

Illowy Heeheehee. Yes, very bad you. Man, I feel like we've fallen out of touch... want to correct that? Oh, and as always, thanks for the review.

sparkly lairy fights: Heh. Then I'm glad I put that there. I hope yours went well, as well! And I hope the story continues to earn your good opinion... -

Lady of Shalotte: Thank you so much! I will continue, I promise. As for bribes... chocolate and fanart work very, very well. - Though I just couldn't update at the time due to personal conflicts, sorry.

Baka-sama2: Heh. Well, no time machine, maybe, but there will be regular updates for a while. Thanks again!

janine Oh, wow... thank you so much. That means a LOT to me, considering I feel like I'm writing this is AFOD's shadow. At first it terrified me, but now I've just decided, hell with it, and tossed out a lot of my plans for further plotlines and decided to start from scratch, make this as new and interesting as I can, damn the rest to hell. - And oh yes, I had a WONDERFUL time. Aren't Bowie's concerts amazing? Tell me all about yours, if you get the time.

Lady Tremere: Heh. Wow, that's a wonderful compliment! Thanks so much. I know WDMC is taking a while, but it will finish, I swear. I will have an ending, as you wish... what it'll be like I have no idea right now. But I'll make it something worth the wait -- or at least try. Thanks again, and best wishes.

Dreaming One: Sorry about the chapter length -- I did warn everyone, remember? Way back at the beginning in the Author's Notes. It's just needed, due to time and story constraints. But thanks so much for your review, it was lovely! (I know, I can't quite believe the review count myself, thus far.)

OutInTheStorm Heeheehee. I cover you with kisses. You cornicoupia.

TerpintineMind There will be more, I promise. - I swear to write on!

AnimeHuntress Heh heh. Glad you like it!

Thank you so much! Let me know how you feel as it unravels, yeah?

kalinda Thanks!

lozzmaggi Wow -- that's quite a compliment, thank you! Yup, that's exactly what happened -- if you look in the last chapter of AFOD, Sarah goes into it. Again, thanks so much, and I hope you continue to enjoy!

neversaynever You'll hear more of Roksana, I promise -- she has a pivatol part to play in this little drama. Heh. I'm sorry to leave you hanging -- for so very long -- but sometimes life makes me do other things even when I'd rather (much rather) entertain all of you. And sometimes it's just part of the writing process... I was much less motivated to write until I figured out that I needed to do some serious revision in planned story arcs. But I hope I haven't lost you, and I promise to try and make it a worthwhile journey from here on in.

Saxonny Oh you. Heehee. Man, I miss you like mad.

EmpressofUnderbed What a wonderful name -- I might have to borrow it for a story. - And thank you!

Unfairmaiden I fear no monkeys. -

Wisdomfire 12: Heh -- yes, I can tell you it was Jareth who tucked her in. He had to hold her one last time. As for the rest... wait and see. -

Sketch: I can't tell you! As much as I want to, no spoilers must be given away! I will continue to update, promise.

Monkey Girl: Here, take a blanket. -

LallieI had great fun at the concert, thanks! And thanks for the review.

GoddessKatlyna02: Heh heh. Sounds like quite a teacher... And I hope you continue to enjoy...

Narsil Thank you so much! Yeah, my hands are still rather screwed up, but that's my fault -- don't do my exercises. I swear updates are forthcoming!

The Crazy Cricket: Well, typos in my mind are corrections, not changes. But no, I don't change chapters once posted -- it would have me forever perfecting what I've already written instead of writing more. (Though yes, I do try to catch typos long afterward.) Heh. Your guesses are very interesting and insighful -- and not all wrong, though I must warn you the flashbacks to not occur linearly -- that is, the thing with 'Linda came long after he separated from Roksana. As for the rest, well, I'm not sure myself how it'll all unravel...

Imagined: Darling, my Jareth is always evil. - Sorry I didn't update quickly, but I'm back now, and I hope you enjoy!

Flaming Fae: There there. It's only going to get... um... worse.

Belladonna: Thank you so much, for everything. (And yes, they are adorable.) I try to be coherent... well, as coherent as I can. Sometimes I do tie myself up in knots, though.

Xavier Jade: Now, now. No grinning. -

connor Heh. No, no where near finished. But thank you so much, and I promise to plug along.

Sally Cinnamon: Haha! Well, I didn't manage to do that for a while, but here I am. And it was a lovely review -- really -- so thanks!

Magenta Sparrow: Can't tell you! Heh. But thanks, and congratulations again!

Memphis Lupine: It's not dorky of you at all! It's wonderfully sweet and eloquent, not to mention horribly complimentary to me, for which I can't thank you enough. - Hope you continue to enjoy!

KouUsa Oh, wow -- thank you so much, I really appreciate it.

Carapheonix OKAY!

Neoshipper Awww -- this is all so lovely to hear, thank you so much. I hope you enjoy WDMC as much, too!

Mab, Queen of Faerie: Heh, the way this boat moves, no one's gonna come too late. - I'm better, and I'll be working hard on the stories, promise.

Elisabeth B.: Thanks for the lovely review! Updates will be more regular, promise.

kllr whal: Heh heh. Thanks!

Aethyrial-Flame: Wow... thank you so much! It's always a treat to get such a detailed and eloquent review, I just wish I could reply with, er, a reply in kind -- but I'm rather at a loss for words! Sadly, I'm not a professional, though the joy of writing fanfic has made me think I might try it. Hmmm, Sarah trying the Labyrinth and losing... that IS an interesting idea, you should try it out! Thanks again!

Shiegra Thanks so much, love.

Skyfire4: Thanks so much! No, I don't really have 'real' people in mind when I design my characters, so they don't have actor-equivalents, or anything like that. Which i probably why it's not a movie yet, to answer your, um, demand? -

SP777: Mmm, nope, haven't changed anything -- it's kind of my policy, I don't like pulling switcheroos on my readers after I've already published. Oh, and Brian found Sarah on the couch -- Jareth was the one to put her there. Thanks again!

Leni Oh, thank you so much! (I'm blushing.) My original fiction has been sadly negelcted as of late; I'm trying to work my way back in. But... yes. Thankyouthankyouthankyou. I wish I'd updated sooner -- alas, life said no. But I will now! (and second review) Sigh. I swear, I haven't lost interest -- quite the opposite. And I'm sorry I made everyone wait so very long...

PixieAmalthea Wow, thanks so much! I promise to update more often now, and hope you enjoy WDMC as much as you did AFOD. Let me know, yeah?

Thanks you so much... I feel like I say that so much I'm like a broken record, but I do mean it, every time. I am trying to work out some of my own original fiction -- it's reviews like yours that make me hope I might be able to cut it. Thanks again.

Maq Oh, thank you... I'm sorry I left the story dangling for so long. Readers who get emotionally involved in the story remind me to come back and get things done. -

the-prettiest-star Thanks so much! Don't feel inadequate. -

Syvia Heeheehee. Glad you liked it -- watch Roksana, she's not getting smoochies.

Kasanolia Aw, wish I could give you a hug...

red-vs-blue I do understand -- believe me, I didn't leave it there for months on purpose. Life can interfere sometimes. But thanks for reviewing.

Silver Salamander: Heh. I have an inkling that if I say making you cry IS a good reason, not even the rock'll protect me. -

Metallicfire ... have I lost you yet? If not, I promise to be better from now on... (second review) So, I haven't lost you... here's a big kiss (if you don;t mind): mmmmmmmmmwa! That's for being a sweetheart.

Deirdre: Thank you so much! Heh -- yes, there's a reason the rock is there... Don't worry -- I always feel like abandoned stories are like abandoned puppies, and they always fill me with protective and self-righteous rage. I won't abandon WDMC, even if I lose interest -- I'll write it as long as I am physically capable. But anyway, thank you for the wonderful review!

Rawhead and Bloody Bones: Yes, but we loves to break the rules. - Heehee. I loved your review, hon -- it was so cute. I don't mind you getting emotionally involved -- on the contrary, that's what I hope for. Hope you enjoy the rest, as well.

Fizggig Heh heh. Thanks for the review and the, er, goblin... which had gnawed through all my furniture legs...

Captain Rogue: Hmmm... well, if you stick by for the rest of the story, you'll see how it all falls out... mwahaha.

SpiralSpace Thanks so much! Updating will be better, promise. As for your questions... Well, as you can see, he isn't refusing to remember, per se -- the memories have been erased. And, well, HumanJareth's dreams were complicated, but not in any way that could coherently help him. And I feel compelled to add -- I think the reason people (not very many, really) were unhappy with AFOD's ending is that... well, it had do do with nature vs nurture -- are you the accumulation of your experiences, or the way you were born? They came down hard on 'nurture,' while I was toying with 'nature.'

girltype Oh, thank you! Hope I haven't lost you after all this time. Yes, Jareth was the one to tuck her in on the couch... Heh. Well, updates will be more frequent, so if you're around your mental health should be... I was going to say "safer," but then I remembered what's coming in those chapters. Erm. Oops.

Demented Divinity: Heh heh. I get that a lot... Will write, and much more often, promise!

Pig Bartolini: Heeheehee. Wow, poor Roksana, she's really got the fanbunnies after her, and she hasn't even had her Big Scene yet... poor kid. But! I'm glad you enjoyed, hope you like the rest!

ziggy4ever: Thank you!

Clever Lass: Thank you so much! I promise to finish it! (second review) Heh heh. As an unofficial sequel, WDMC is already a soft of fanfic of a fanfic... which would make YOUR fanfic... confusing. - But see? Back now!

Jaessa Thank you so much!

Anony Anony! Squee! Aw, thank you so much... I promise to keep up with it, I do indeed.

Rosakara ... oh... kay... scuttles under Rock

Velf Thank you so much!

TheShinonbiyoru Thanks! I have no idea how many chapters there'll be, though!

Moonjava Aw, thank you! (I do try. And fail. But try!)

Anisky Heh heh. Don't worry. I don't abandon stories, I swear -- but thank you!

Shabopo Thank you so much. Reviews like this are a treat.

Arysta Thank you so much! Promise, I will continue.

Tirya King: Aw, thank you! (And thanks also about Chaucer -- he has a special place in my heart as well...) I love getting reviews like this, I do indeed.

Evenstar8723: Sorry hon, wish I could go faster...

SingleServing Thank you so much! I promise I'll finish.

Florinda I promise to continue -- I promise to finish. And I hope it gives you satisfaction.

Athene Saile: Yes, finals week is very, very over. (Except, I remember it had started again when I got this review.) But that wasn't the only reason I wasn't updating. And I beg to differ -- a 'vague disclaimer' (what would have been less vague? detailing my private life in public?) is very much MY friend. I'm sorry the wait frustrated you -- I really am -- but sometimes fanfiction can't have the high priority in life that I want it to. It's not that I didn't update for lack of interest, or out of laziness. Please believe me, and have a bit of faith.

Nora: Not forever -- I promised on my bio I'd finish, see? But thanks so much for the compliments... As for the begging -- man, I WISH it would help. - And yes, there are priorities that come before fanfic, and those that come after. All of those since last publishing were firmly in the 'before' category, trust me. To give you an idea -- I never stopped going to school, for one thing. All through summer and then back again, yup. Sigh. Fanfic had to wait.

Catherine: Thank you so very, very much. Your dedication and trust means a lot to me... wow, that sounds like I'm full of myself. - But I really was touched. All the best.

Mesopotamia No, no, never given up -- just stalled. But see? I came back! And thanks so much for leaving your review...

M. D. Macleod: Thanks so much!

Imaginarium Hmmm... I think... right about now! Heh. Sorry about the wait. Ouch. Lord, keep the puppies out of it... - Updating will be better, promise!

gradolphin No no no! Not abandoned! I swear! (sigh -- does no one read my profile? Hmmm.) But I'm so flattered that you like it anyway. -

Tenoko Nope, he doesn't know! Hee. Ouch. Roksana isn't, um, all bad... -

Captain Cass: I swear, I did work on it that whole time... I just didn't have anything to show for it, sadly. Ah, well. I hope you like what I've got now!

thewindrider278: Thank you so much!

eclecticbabe288: Hee! Thanks for the lovely review.

Labeled Insane: Glad you're enjoying it!

Willow Halloway: Yup yup -- warned people it would be like that. (Though I may have changed my mind...) Glad you're enjoying!

the anonymus writer: Oh, thank you...

defying definition: Heehee. You know, I seem to have my fics compared to hard drugs more often than I feel completely comfortable with... - Yes, the concert was lovely -- I'm glad you're enjoying the story, and I hope you like the rest!

theshadowcatHeh. Well, the updates will commence, I promise. As for the rest... darling, you better check out my Greatest Journal. There's a big warning about endings, there. Mwa. Take care!

Mayghan Thanks for reviewing!

Undomiel Regina: You're not being a nag at all. - I admit to being cranky about this hiatus of mine -- I just get testy. It's the red hair. - But thank you so much, and this really was a lovely review to receive. Please tell me what you think of the rest...

Keito-chan: Oh, doll, it's not readers begging or anything like that to help or even keep me from updating -- it's much more complicated, RealLife stuff. But it should be okay, at least for a while, now. Thank you so much for a fantastic review.

jazzy021: Thanks!

Alionya I promised everyone in my profile I wouldn't abandon it, and I won't -- I swear. I'm glad you're enjoying it! I hope you like the rest...

Serenditu Um... here... lemme get you a box of tissues... - Thanks so much -- this was a lovely review. And I'm so glad you're really caught up in the story!

linzy It's not dead, see? I'm glad you like it so far!

Ying Ying: Um... as bad as I've been -- not quite a year, yet, and hardly two. - But thanks!

BattleofEvermore Thanks for the review!

the eskimo: Thank you so much! I'm glad to hear you've enjoyed it -- updates will come!

I Wish I Was Kermit: Wow, thank you so much -- this was a wonderful revoew to receive, and it really brightened my day. I hope you enjoy the rest of the story!

Smart Alek: Thanks for the review!

peroxide Well, I'm flattered, but... you know, I think I was in a lot more danger at the near-end of AFOD, to be truthful. I'd killed him, after all. But now... I mean, making Jareth leave Sarah is nothing new. Scary, but nothing new. Most readers will hold onto hope that he'll find his way back. I just need to find out how to abuse their hopes and dreams!