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Y/N stood in her bedroom, taking in the serene sight before her. The sunlight streamed through the neatly hung curtains, casting gentle shadows on the clean, uncluttered surfaces. A swell of relief washed over her as she admired the minimalistic decor, a testament to her parents’ guidance. With a careful balance, she had managed to pack precisely the right amount of belongings—neither overwhelming herself with excess nor leaving behind anything essential. Yet, as she turned to make her way out of her childhood sanctuary, a bittersweet ache tugged at her heart. This room, woven with threads of laughter and tears, held a lifetime of memories, both cherished and challenging.

Outside, the August afternoon dawned bright and breezy, the air filled with the promise of adventure and new beginnings. Y/N felt a wave of gratitude envelop her; the skies were clear, with no storm clouds lurking to dampen her spirits. Her dad navigated the familiar roads, the SUV packed to the brim with her carefully selected possessions, a chaotic mix spilling into the backseat.

Before setting off toward her fresh start, Y/N turned back for one last embrace with M/N and D/N. She wrapped her arms tightly around them, feeling the warmth of their love and exchanging heartfelt words that hung in the air like a sweet melody. The moment felt heavy yet exhilarating, a bittersweet farewell to all she had known.

As she ventured into the world of college, Y/N found herself surprisingly adept at adapting to her new surroundings. Even after the harrowing trials she had faced in the underground, she felt an innate strength bubbling within her. Her determination shone through as she immersed herself in her studies, effortlessly forging connections and making friends who would enrich her life. With each passing day, her schedule blossomed into a tapestry of commitments, yet somehow, it all felt within reach—a manageable whirlwind.

Still, despite her accomplishments and the excitement of her new life, the memories of the underground lingered in the corners of her mind, pulling at her unconsciously. Accepting that part of her past was proving challenging; she had resolved not to walk away completely, yet it had been months since she last ventured into the labyrinth, and the brisk autumn air now wrapped around her like a second skin. The thought of returning to that old haunt felt almost absurd. There were nights when she found herself gazing out of her window, lost in a reverie she couldn’t quite understand. That melancholy would swiftly pass—until one fateful day when her perceptive roommate noticed her distant expression and broached the subject, stirring something deep within Y/N.

“Is that an owl?”

Y/n looked up from her laptop as if time had frozen.

“Dude, I swear that's an owl!”

Y/n kicked the covers off and hopped down from her bed, rushing to her roommate's side. 

Only to see that the owl was already soaring off.

“You almost missed it.” her roommate said.

It became easier, over time, to justify the distance.

There were limits, after all, to how often he could appear without consequence. Her world did not bend as easily as his, and he had no desire to disrupt it more than he already had. He could wait, after all, for he had all the time in the world.

So, he adjusted, finding other ways to observe rather than from the comfort of his throne room, where he would hold a crystal ball. He would take on forms that he found particularly convenient—not always the same branch, nor always at the same hour. 

But it was consistent enough that had anyone been paying closer attention, they might have noticed. Of course, she didn’t seem to notice, and he didn't know whether to feel relief or irritation. 

Since she moved on to college, her world seemed louder than he remembered. 

There were too many voices, expectations, and demands. He almost never caught her in a moment of stillness unless she was studying long into the night at the library or fast asleep in her dorm. Still, he couldn’t help but recognize how she navigated it all with a quiet persistence that appeared as effortless as breathing. 

Jareth learned to not concern himself with the trivialities of her daily life. The mundane details of her routine held little interest for him, for time was precious to him. However, there were moments he made note of: the places she returned to often, the people she allowed close, and even the times she lingered alone longer than necessary. These moments, he found, were worth remembering.

It was, he reasoned, a matter of timing. The difference between their worlds had proven unpredictable, and he had no intention of arriving at the wrong moment—too late to matter, or too early to be welcome. 

This was simply...precaution.

There were times, however, when he wouldn't bother with the owl disguise. The underground had its quieter hours when it settled into itself, where there was nowhere he was required to be and nothing that demanded his attention. 

During those quiet hours, he remained in the comfort of his chambers, seated by the window, with crystals turning idly between his gloved fingers. He did not always intend to conjure her, at least, that was what he told himself. But when he did, it was difficult to ignore. 

He would delve into the sounds of her presence, often replaying from moments in the labyrinth to the gasps she let out when he was deep within her—sounds he replayed more often than he’d admit; it was his favorite sound, after all. He conjured dreams of his own, dreams where she would come back, choosing him without hesitation, and dreams where she would fight against him until she submitted completely, his personal favorite. 

But over time, he found himself craving her softness rather than her anger. 

One day, while sitting in the comfort of her dorm room, she engaged in an internal battle, revisiting the past. She had been doing well, avoiding anything related to the labyrinth, not dreaming about it, and not reaching out to her friends. But questions were itching at her mind.

She didn’t want to call him, not now, and probably not ever. She valued her dignity.

At her desk, adorned with Polaroid photos and a calendar beside her planner, she sat surrounded by books and mini trinkets on the shelf above. After a good few hours of studying, her iPad rested on top of her laptop in front of her. Her eyes strained from exhaustion, and she rubbed them with her knuckles, releasing a soft huff as adrenaline coursed through her body. She was about to make a huge decision.

“Ruzelda… Asha… I need you,” she choked out.

“Y/n?” 

Startled, she turned around to see her two dearest friends standing behind her. She embraced them tightly.

Stepping back, she looked at Ruzelda, who was no longer a goblin. Her skin had taken on the same ebony shade as her daughter’s, soft waves silver hair flowed down her back, complemented by antlers mightier than anything Y/n had ever seen and ears standing tall with pride. The small wrinkles on Ruzelda’s angular face held memories of laughter, framed by her sharply defined nose. Y/n could never tire of how beautiful both Ruzelda and Asha were, and it was only enhanced by their kind spirits.

“You finally called, dear,” Ruzelda sighed, her voice no longer carrying the broken, ragged edge of her goblin self.

“I— I did! Oh my goodness! I have no words. How are you guys? How's everyone? I have so many questions!” Y/n blurted, bouncing on her toes in excitement.

Ruzelda and Asha exchanged glances and laughed. Y/n pulled up chairs for them to sit on, and they sat down gracefully. She asked if they needed anything to drink or snack on, but they declined. So, she hoisted herself onto her bed as they chatted away.

It turned out that Ruzelda had been let go by the king shortly after Y/n’s departure, with Hoggle taking her place as his right-hand man (surprisingly). The moment she stepped into the woods, her goblin form shed away, revealing her deer-fae form, and everything had been well since then. Asha mentioned that Hoggle visited them from time to time when he had no other responsibilities. Recently, he had been visiting more often, as apparently, Jareth didn’t find much need for him—not in a rude, dismissive way, but as if his thoughts were occupied elsewhere, especially at night when he kept his private chambers locked.

“Now that you mention it,” Y/n said, carefully. “My roommate and I just saw an owl...it’s definitely... Jareth.” She shook her head, an unsettling feeling sat in her stomach. “I know I said I wouldn’t walk away completely, but now that I’m genuinely living life and dealing with more serious matters, my return is barely guaranteed.” She gestured warmly to the space around her. “I love it here. I’ve grown so much, and I’m grateful for my experience in the Labyrinth for teaching me things. But it’s time to face reality.”

Asha frowned. “But, Y/n, don’t you see? The underground is just as real as here. It is entirely its own reality!”

Y/n nodded. “I understand, but—”

Ruzelda cut in. “You don’t want to see him, that’s what it is.”

Y/n clamped her mouth shut.

“Yes! Yes, that’s what it is!” Asha exclaimed, jumping in her seat. “You have no problem seeing us, so you can just come whenever you want and avoid him!” Her voice sounded like she was trying to convince herself.

Ruzelda put a hand on her daughter's arm to calm her. 

“It’s not that easy,” Y/n said softly, lowering her head slightly. “I associate him with the underground. After all, it is his kingdom. He rules every corner of it.”

“But he can’t rule you, dear,” Ruzelda reassured her, her eyes softening.

“Our last encounter was… not what I expected, so things aren’t really good between us right now,” Y/n explained with a slow nod.

“Well, what happened?” Asha asked slowly.

Y/n immediately felt a heat pool in her stomach, traveling lower. She shifted in her seat, trying not to clench her fingers.

Ruzelda and Asha’s eyebrows rose at the same time, practically feeling the heat radiating off her.

“Girl. You. Kissed. Him.” Asha beamed in disbelief, leaning forward in her seat.

Y/n, still a young woman after all, couldn’t help but giggle.

Ruzelda shook her head with a knowing smile. “I knew that boy was smitten with you! I even told your mom he’s a big softie,” she said slyly, a twinkle in her eye. “And by the looks of it… it seems to have been more than just a kiss.”

“Mother!” Asha gasped, whipping her head towards Ruzelda at her suggestive statement. Y/n covered her face with her hands in embarrassment, groaning while still stifling a smile.

Ruzelda cleared her throat. “On a serious note, dear,” she began, straightening her posture, “remember what I told you that one time in the bathroom?”

Y/n recalled the sound of the tub filling with water, echoing throughout the bathroom, which she claimed was reminiscent of a spa. She faintly remembered the sting from Ruzelda attending to her bruises. The steady sound of water filling the tub blended with the faint crackle of candlelight. As much as she wanted to remember it as relaxing, she couldn’t.

“Letting go…” Ruzelda finally said, “doesn’t always mean what you think it does.” 

Those were the same words she had shared in the bathroom.

Ruzelda leaned over and placed her hands on top of Y/n’s, looking into her eyes with sincerity. “You can walk out a door and still be exactly where he wants you.”

A chill trickled down Y/N's spine as she realized that her presence in Jareth’s orbit was no accident. 

After an hour or so of catching up, Ruzelda and Asha vanished back into the underground. leaving Y/n with the sting of his gaze on her, the fae watching her closely in his owl form. The knowledge unsettled her, igniting a mix of fear and intrigue.

Determined to reclaim her life, she focused on the approaching winter break and filled her days with more activities, trying to push thoughts of Jareth into the background. She immersed herself in her studies--exploring new study methods to improve retention, spent more time with friends, and embraced the magic of the season, all in an effort to distract herself.

Y/N met a boy—a rare occurrence since she had never taken relationships seriously. Although she was a beautiful girl and had her share of guys approaching her, she had tried (passively) to give them a chance but ultimately gave up and shut them out completely. Always feeling something missing. 

"High standards." They would say.

"You're never satisfied."

"You'll end up lonely with cats!" The last boy she turned down spat in her face. 

They just didn't ... get her. 

Until she met him.

Elliot was his name. 

Oh, Elliot. 

His hair was a vibrant shade of blonde that stopped above his darker eyebrows. Piercing aqua eyes that drowned anyone who dared gaze at them too long. His features were a perfect balance between soft and sharp, accenutating the strong lines of his jaw and cheekbones. When he spoke, his lips curled into a warm smile, releasing a voice that flowed like a sweet lullaby, so smooth and enchanting. 

Y/N wasn’t oblivious, she knew why she was drawn to him. But she pushed that thought away whenever it crept into her mind. Each time he smiled at her, whenever he walked toward her with that familiar gait, and whenever he spoke to her in that low, soothing voice in the library. She didn't feel butterflies, she felt something more dangerous, almost forbidden. 

Elliot was undeniably intelligent—a pre-law student destined to make the Dean’s List, just like she was. She admired his drive and determination. He never backed down from a challenge, yet he was kind and gentle, especially with her. There was a time they were at a party, and he guided her with his hands on her lower back. Then there was the moment when she was engrossed in a book, and he teasingly took it from her hands to capture her attention. She expected to feel annoyed, but one look at his smirk and it suddenly evaporated, she simply couldn't bring herself to get upset at him. 

And she hated that.

He always exuded calmness, and even though they were the same age, he seemed much older. There was something mature about the way he softly observed the world around him, the way his jaw tightened when he was deep in thought, and his clever remarks that felt strangely familiar, almost uncanny. In his presence, she often felt guided by the steady hand of an older gentleman, possessing wisdom beyond his years.

One night, at the peak of midnight, in the quiet comfort of the stacks where no one else was around, she and Elliot sat at one of the tables. They had an empty container that once held fruit and half-open bags of snacks scattered around them. They were locked in, studying for five hours straight, trying to absorb as much information as possible for their semester finals. 

Elliot closed his laptop and leaned back to stretch, letting out a tired groan. She glanced at him, noticing his shirt lift slightly to reveal a glimpse of his abdomen. She simply observed in silence. 

“Are you done?” she asked softly. 

“Yeah, I think I’m ready for tomorrow’s exam,” he replied, leaning forward again and stuffing his laptop and books into his bag.

He gave her a soft look. “How are you feeling? I know your exams aren’t for another few days.”

Y/N nodded. “I feel more confident. I just need to review one last topic, but I’ll call it a night too.”

He didn’t move right away. Instead, he watched her for a second longer than necessary. Not in an invasive way, just… intentionally.

He noticed the mechanical pencil she left behind as she packed her things, and of course, he couldn't let her forget that. He shifted closer, reaching over her, and his hand brushed her arm. 

Instead of pulling away, he lingered.

Their eyes met, and for the first time, she saw something unreadable flicker in his gaze, conveying more than she’d like to admit. 

She didn’t move, not that she wanted to. She felt a familiar calmness, which was typical when she was with him. Yet there was something else thrumming within her: anticipation, one might say.

He drew nearer, the heat of his breath mingling with hers as their lips hovered tantalizingly close, before finally colliding with a soft, tentative connection.

She felt everything. There was the same stillness that enveloped in the air, a magnetic pull that drew her in before her mind could catch up. Instinctively, her body leaned closer, as if it had memorized this dance.  

Yet, nestled deep within her, a sense of unease began to swell because this experience was unlike anything she had encountered before…or at least, it should have been

That night, she experienced night terrors and fell into sleep paralysis. She woke up at four in the morning, panting, her nails dug into the sheets, threatening to rip them apart. 

Two days later, Elliot kissed Y/N on the cheek when they met up on the quad, and, coincidentally, a bird pooped on her shoe.

The night when the two were entangled and in a  heated  make out session in the stacks around midnight, she dreamed of being strangled by a faceless creature, its nails digging into her neck violently, nearly tearing her apart.

An hour before her second to last final exam, he kissed her on the cheek for good luck before leaving. 

Unfortunately, she didn't perform as well as she had hoped. She passed by a hair, her final grade still exceptionally well. It was a long and treacherous couple of hours at her desk. She struggled to draw information from her memory, as it seemed to present itself in fragmented pieces, making it difficult to capture the concepts together.

Finally, finals week was over, and a nice long month of winter break was just around the corner. Y/n had remarkably passed her first semester of college, and she couldn't be happier.

Elliot lived states away, so they wouldn't be able to see each other, but he had promised to call her every other night.

For the first week and a half of break, they made an account to call each other a few times a week, the following week, they texted more than called. Elliot made sure to keep his word and contact her whenever he could.

Until he didn't. 

Y/n decided to FaceTime him one night to confront him about his inconsistency over the past week,  only to be greeted by a shirtless girl with tousled hair under the covers, glossed over eyes while smiling foolishly. 

“Bitch, he’s busy,” she slurred.

Y/n immediately hung up before things could escalate. 

Without hesitation, she blocked his contact, expecting to feel some sense of loss or maybe even defeat at the thought of Elliot's attention being elsewhere. 

Crossing her arms in bed, she waited for a feeling to surface—anything, even disgust. But nothing came. 

She opened his Instagram account, staring intently at his face, trying to evoke some emotions while wondering if she would miss him. 

She fixated on a picture of him at his high school prom, surrounded by his friends. Scrunching her nose in distaste, she unfollowed him and tossed her phone across the bed with a huff. 

“Who am I kidding?” she sighed in defeat. “I can’t bring myself to care.” 

That night, she slept peacefully, experiencing not a single night terror.

The following days ahead, if Elliot ever crossed her mind, she still felt nothing. 

Jareth sat near the large arched window of his chambers, one gloved hand resting against his mouth. The vast underground stretched endlessly beyond the castle walls, quiet under the silver glow of the moonlight, with the faint crackling of a fire in the background. He allowed the cool breeze to touch his chest, feeling his pendant stir intuitively.

As usual, he conjured a crystal to reveal a sleeping Y/n relatively peacefully. For the past few months, whenever that boytouched her, the bond between their worlds reacted violently.

The Underground had always responded strangely to desire after a human had been present, especially in cases of unresolved attachments. Those were his rules; he had to do it to remind her that this wasn’t the end. He made sure that they both felt it each night, watching her gasping for air, sweat clinging to her back in her t-shirt, as she sensed the sharp ripple of unrest moving through the invisible thread connecting them. 

Though he despised admitting it, jealousy had twisted itself into something ugly within him. Not because another man kissed her, but because she allowed it. Now, however, with nothing left to fuel the jealousy or block their connection, there were no more nightmares, no unrest. just silence.

Slowly, he exhaled. “So,” he murmured softly to himself, “the boy is gone.” 

The words should have satisfied him more than they did, but all he felt was the fire in his chest dwindling like a dying flame. Instead, he found himself studying her face under the moonlight that poured in through her window, the softness of her features devoid of any defiance. He couldn’t ignore the uneasy stirrings within him at the realization that he still wanted her deeply. It didn’t help that he was frightened by how much she still wanted him.

Once upon a time, he had mistaken possession for love. He had nearly done so with Sarah. But Y/n… she demanded change, which was much crueler than anything he had ever been asked to do. 

Their worlds were practically fused together, whether they liked it or not. They could summon each other into one another’s presence with just one thought, one glimpse-- one wish.

He studied her closely, she was curled beneath the blankets in the dim moonlight that painted her room, one arm resting beneath the pillows. She looked like an angel nestled among lush clouds.

Y/N stirred, the covers bunched around her as she shifted. 

Uncharacteristically, she didn’t dream that night. Instead, she fell into a deep sleep, only to find herself lying there with her eyes closed, as if her body rejected the idea of sleep.

Suddenly, she snapped her eyes open and stared at the ceiling, which was tinted blue by the moonlight. She sat up as if an invisible force had yanked her up. An unknown energy that caught even her by surprise. 

Carefully, she scanned her surroundings. D/N was not with her, her parents were fast asleep, yet nothing felt quite right.

A gradual sense of impending doom settled in her gut, spreading to her periphery until her nervous system took full control, preventing her body from relaxing back onto the bed. 

Y/N glanced at her clock, it was 4:15 AM. She had been lying awake for a good hour after her deep, dreamless sleep. She had gone to bed at a reasonable time, but her mind craved sleep that her body was unwilling to provide.

She groaned, tossing her head back. “Please, not again… I was doing so well!” Her voice turned into a helpless whine. She wanted to sleep through the night, not just for five and a half hours.

Unable to tolerate it any longer, she tossed the covers off her body and planted her feet on the bedroom floor. She marched toward the window, irritation and fear gnawing relentlessly at her nerves, threatening to spark an electric reaction within her.

“I know you’re here,” she whispered firmly, trying to keep her voice steady. “And I know what you did to Elliot.”

Jareth peered intently into the Crystal. She knew if she spoke the words, he would be right there behind her. He silently cursed himself for not appearing as an owl this time, even though he knew he could if he wanted to. But he wanted her to wish for him to come.

Intuition nudged at the girl’s chest, and she bit her cheek in contemplation. She glanced at the space between herself and her bed; the shadows pooled like spilled ink beneath the rays of moonlight.

“Tell me the truth,” she said, a little louder, just above a whisper, but not enough to cause a ruckus. “I wish you were here to explain yourself.”

The curtains billowed, and a breeze engulfed the room—dramatic, but not overpowering. The shadows shifted in a jumbled array, and the whole room shook momentarily as if the wind were a powerful force. After a few moments, it settled.

“You’ve grown quite bold, precious,” his low voice remarked from behind her, although he sounded quite distant.

Y/N turned around from facing the curtain to come face-to-face with the one presence she never thought she would see again.

“Your taste in companions,” he snorted arrogantly, “was rather beneath you. I simply provided a little clarity.”

Y/N stepped toward him, ignoring the way her heart hammered against her ribs. 

“Clarity? You gave me nightmares, Jareth! You sabotaged a little crush I had because you couldn't stand it not being you.” She gestured wildly to the room around her. “This is my world. My degree. My future. You don’t get to stalk me at every corner because you’re bored in your castle.”

Jareth’s expression darkened. The smug curve of his lips faltered, nearly making Y/N want to take back her words.

“Bored?” He took a step forward, rolling the word around in his mind as if it were new to him. “I have watched you trudge through a world that demands everything from you and gives you nothing but empty disappointments in return. I observed you settle for a boy who is a shadow of a shadow, and you expect me to sit on a throne and applaud your mediocrity?”

Y/N clamped her mouth shut, watching as he moved closer, allowing her to smell his intoxicating aroma.

“I didn’t watch you all this time because I was bored,” he said in a lowered voice.

Y/N looked at him—really looked at him. She saw beyond how she had projected him during her first semester of college, which she had so desperately tried to bury under GPA scores and networking events.

“Ruzelda and Asha visited me recently,” she said shakily, trying to keep her composure. “Ruzelda said that letting go doesn’t always mean what I think it does.”

Jareth didn't move; the air around him seemed to shimmer with glitter. “Ruzelda was always far too perceptive for her own good. It’s a trait her daughter clearly inherited.”

The air was thin and too quiet, which made Y/n shift uncomfortably. For once, she felt her defiance slip from her fingers.

“Once one is connected to the underground, it reflects your inner world,” Jareth added.

She furrowed her eyebrows, “So my inner world was—”

“Hesitation.” Jareth finished. 

Their phrases fit together like solved puzzle pieces, and a lightbulb went off in Y/n’s head. It all made sense now: the nightmares, the bird poop, the mini inconveniences—everything was because she was fighting something within herself. But…

“There’s more,” she stated boldly, beginning to circle him. She wasn’t going to break easily.

“There’s nothing more to it, I assure you,” Jareth insisted, straightening his posture.

“I don’t believe you.”

Jareth scoffed. “You humans—”

Y/n firmly shook her head. "I'm tired of that dumbass excuse. It has nothing to do with me being human and everything to do with your jealousy.”

Y/n's words hung in the air, sharp and jagged, cutting through the carefully curated mystique he usually wore like a second skin. He didn't move, but the glitter in the air seemed to still, suspended in the moonlight like frozen dust. His icy gaze flashed with a spark of genuine resentment.

“Jealousy?” he repeated, the word sounding foreign and bitter on his tongue. He turned his head slowly, tracking her as she continued to circle him, his gaze never leaving hers. “I would say being encroached upon is a better term.”

“Call it whatever fancy word makes you feel better,” she countered, stopping dead in her tracks. Her gaze pierced him like a double-edged sword. The whole room held its breath as it adhered to her newfound power.

“You didn’t just let the underground ‘reflect’ my hesitation. You nudged it until it disturbed my peace, all because you couldn't handle me looking at someone else.”

It took her a moment to realize they were nearly chest to chest. She was pressed against the wall while he nearly caged her in. The tension made her heart race, and warm, fiery embers sparked between them. Her chest heaved with a mix of defiance and arousal, and she knew he could sense it. Jareth loomed over her, like a brick wall, ominous and imposing.

"You left more than a piece of your soul, Y/n," he whispered, his breath ghosting over her. "You left an invitation."

Y/n shook her head fiercely. "Just because I told you I wouldn't walk away completely doesn't mean you owe me in any way."

Jareth moved his hand to brace himself against the wall behind her, the leather of his glove creaking in the silence. He looked at her, a flash of ache crossing his face before being replaced by a sharp, jagged laugh.

"I am not something you can get rid of with a change of scenery," he said, his face now inches from her ear. "And I am certainly not a memory you can stow away between your chapters."

Y/n didn’t flinch; she only shrank back until she felt every vertebra against the hardness of the wall behind her. Her eyes flickered away from Jareth’s intense gaze. A flicker of something predatory yet vulnerable danced in his eyes as they dropped to her mouth.

"You think you’re so clever, burying your heart under textbooks and deadlines," he murmured, his voice dropping to a dangerous, velvet timbre. "But Ruzelda was right. Letting go isn’t about distance. You could go to the ends of this Earth, and you would still feel the pull of the Labyrinth because you left a piece of your soul in my throne room."

He let that statement hang in the air, a heavy truth settling into the marrow of her bones. His hand moved from the wall, his gloved thumb tracing the line of her jaw—a touch that was both possessive and calm.

"And I," he added, his voice smooth against her skin, "have no intention of returning it."

Those words fractured the tension like a crystal ball dropped carelessly on the ground. The last of her defiance evaporated, replaced by a heat far more dangerous than anger.

Jareth didn’t wait to bridge the gap; he moved with fluid grace, as if running out of patience. His hand slid from the wall to the back of her neck, his leather-clad fingers rough against her skin as he tilted her head back. When his lips finally crashed against hers, it was a collision of two worlds, both straining to connect for months.

Y/n let out a soft, broken sound against his mouth. Her hands traveled from his chest to his shoulders, gripping the heavy fabric of his coat as if it were the only thing grounding her from going wild. 

Jareth groaned low in his throat as he pressed closer, his body a solid, unyielding heat against hers. He groaned once more, the sound vibrating through her entire frame.

The kiss grew frantic and primal, as if time itself were shifting. They kissed each other as if they were trying to reclaim every moment they had spent apart. His thumb traced the line of her throat, feeling her erratic pulse that beat only for him.

Y/n felt her knees weaken as her hands moved from his shoulders to his wild blond mane, shamelessly tangling her fingers in his hair. Being this close wasn't enough, she wanted to feel more than just his body against hers. She lifted her leg, allowing his pelvis to press firmly against hers, making their connection even more intense. With a fluid motion, his hand that wasn't holding her jaw slid under her thigh, pressing himself against her as he grinded against her.

Jareth's composure shattered as he let out a ragged sound, halfway between a growl and a plea, while he hitched her leg higher. She pulled her mouth away from his, their heavy breaths syncing in rhythm. He thrust his hips against hers with a finality that made her legs shake and her stomach tighten, a desperate heat pooling between her legs. His grip on her thigh intensified, his leather glove pressing into her skin in a way that only heightened her craving. He continued to drive against her, each movement heavy and deliberate, ensuring she felt every ounce of the tension he had been holding back since their last encounter.

She couldn't help herself; she tilted her head back, her arms growing weak from the constant friction. Jareth leaned down to her neck and began kissing her feverishly, feeling her pulse against his lips and tongue. The sensation earned a sharp whine from her as their hips continued to move fervently.

“You’re shaking,” he rasped against her skin, his voice devoid of its usual polish. He looked up at her, admiring her glistening, parted lips in the moonlight, her eyes rolled back as he pressed against her again and again at the spot that made her body jolt. He tilted his head to focus on her thigh, tracing his gaze from her knee to the place where his hand rested, then to the space between her sacred place and his. His hand, still at the back of her thigh, slowly moved between them, and he grazed his thumb across her skin. His eyebrows raised as he watched her ride out the last of her high.

“...and so very wet,” he muttered darkly.

He gradually let her leg slide down but didn’t pull back. His forehead came to rest against hers.

“I feel like…” Y/n moaned, still catching her breath. “This did a lot more than just explain our conversation.”

Jareth backed away slowly, allowing Y/n to push herself off the wall. The king searched her face. “You’re thinking,” he murmured, his voice a low vibration. “It’s a dangerous habit, precious. It usually leads to you leaving me.”

“I’m not leaving,” Y/n breathed, her vision gaining sudden, sharp clarity. “But I’m not staying. Remember that.”

Jareth narrowed his eyes. “I thought we were past that already. Surely, you want to stay.”

“I’ve told you before,” she countered. “I have a life here. A degree, a family, a future.”

“You’ve made that quite clear,” Jareth added, irritation lacing his voice as he adjusted the cuff of his glove.

“But the labyrinth is mine too,” she continued, ignoring his impatience.

Jareth paused. For the first time in a while, the gears of his mind seemed to stall. 

“So, you do want to return,” he whispered, the realization making him feel strange. “Just on your terms.”

Y/n nodded slowly, her eyes lighting up with relief that Jareth was beginning to understand. “I should’ve thought of this before,” she said. “But Jareth, you’re bitter. You’re stuck in the past.”

She reached forward, framing his face with her hands, her fingers disappearing into the silk of his hair. “I want to see,” she sighed, “what you’re like when you aren’t just yourself. Not tied down or obsessed with losses that weren’t yours to begin with. I want to see the labyrinth when it’s not just a trap, but a home.”

The silence that followed was heavy, a vulnerability that made Jareth’s breath hitch. He reached up to take one of her hands in his. His other hand slid down to her hip, pulling her flush against him with a renewed, possessive vigor.

“It would be… unconventional,” he muttered.

“We’ve never been conventional,” she reminded him, cleverness dancing in her gaze.

“Then consider the door open,” he replied, his eyes dark with a smitten, hungry intensity. “Come here when you wish. Stay as long as you dare. And when you are here in this world…” He leaned in. “I shall make it my personal mission to ensure you never regret your choice.” With that, he planted another kiss on her lips. His hands traveled from her hand that rested on his face to the small of her waist, keeping her as grounded as possible.

Y/n smiled against his lips before kissing back. 

The spring semester in the aboveground continued with its predictable rhythms: 8:00 AM lectures, overpriced food, and the constant hum of studying for exams. To her peers and friends, Y/n appeared more like a girl who always looked a little well-rested compared to last semester. It was better that they didn’t know about the otherworldly mysteries of the door that opened at her command whenever she pleased, or the way she held the scent of cedar and starlight.

In the underground, the Labyrinth was changing. The jagged walls softened, and the dead ends were replaced by gardens that bloomed in the dark. It still retained its quirks and unpredictability, but now in a way that wasn’t threatening or jarring.

This transformation didn’t happen by chance; it changed once the king did. Jareh was no longer the spaced-out and impatient mess in his throne room. He wasn’t the “Goblin King” of Sarah’s script; the tragic villain destined to fail. Because Y/n never assigned him a role, he was finally free to figure out who he truly was. Over time, as they spent more time together, the bitterness of his past losses and the sting of Sarah’s victory and rejection simply evaporated. He felt younger, his magic fueled not by spite or hurt, but by the genuine, smitten adoration he held for the woman who looked him in the eye and demanded his best.

But no one knew that their arrangement was as unconventional as it was intoxicating. 

On Tuesday nights, Y/n would sit in the castle beyond the Goblin City, helping Jareth navigate the logistics of a kingdom that was finally learning to thrive again. They challenged each other; she laughed at his theatrics and gave him that same spark and resistance that made his ancient heart soar with new energy.

Y/n sometimes went out on Friday nights like any college student would, but sometimes she stayed in while her roommate went out. When she was alone in her dorm room, Jareth would step through the shadows. He would add a modern edge to his attire, wearing leather jackets that made him look devastatingly handsome.

One night, he sat on the edge of her bed, watching her study, his eyes glowing with quiet admiration while paying close attention to every movement she made. 

“You’re staring again,” Y/n murmured, her eyes never leaving her iPad.

Jareth leaned forward, a toothy grin etched on his face in mischief. It was eight, and the night was still young. 

“I must say, this view is vastly preferred over a crystal ball,” he said with amusement.

She turned to catch his gaze, struck with admiration. 

“Hoggle talked to me through the mirror today,” she said, closing her laptop and flipping her iPad lid shut. “He says the bog needs attention because Ludo nearly fell in again, and that Ruzelda is expecting us for tea.”

Jareth let out a dramatic groan, rolling his eyes as he pushed himself off her bed. His leather boots adorned with silver intricate designs sounded heavily against the dorm floor.

“That Ludo and the bog,” he muttered, though the edge of his voice was fond. “One would think after a few centuries he’d learn that the ground isn’t always as solid as his head.”

Y/n laughed as she stood from her desk chair. Jareth watched her movements as she pushed her chair in, stacked her iPad on top of her laptop, and turned off her desk light, leaving the dim light on her storage cart.

He reached out, his gloved hand catching Y/n’s wrist and gently tugging her toward him. He didn’t just want her near; he wanted her in his orbit, a constant reminder that she hadn’t vanished back into the gray reality of her studies. His clinginess was a new development, a byproduct of realizing that she wasn’t a role he had to play but a person he couldn’t stand to be without. It was no secret that the king had fell hopelessly and madly in love with her.

“Ruzelda can wait five minutes for her tea,” he murmured, getting on his knees, his gaze glued to her. The lamp cast shadows across his face as he laced his hands around her waist, pulling her closer and looking up at her with longing that would be etched in her mind forever. He leaned his forehead against her stomach, a gesture of rare, quiet vulnerability that always managed to melt the last of her annoyance.

“You’re going to make us late, aren’t you?” Y/n asked, her hands on her lips, fighting the urge to lace her fingers through his hair.

“I am the King of the Goblins,” he reminded her, looking up with a glimmer in his eyes. “Time is whatever I say it is. And right now, I say the night belongs entirely to us.”

He stood up, the shadows of the room stretching and swirling around his boots as he prepared to open the way. He didn’t offer a crystal; he offered his hand, palm up—an open invitation for her to lead the way back into their shared chaos.

“Shall we?” he asked, his voice soft and genuinely smitten.

The fire crackled softly, casting a warm glow across the lounge, but the silence lingered around M/n, Hoggle, D/n, and the deer girl. D/n snuggled comfortably on M/n’s lap, while Hoggle sat across the couch, deep in thought. In front of the flames, the deer girl exuded an enchanting presence, her white dress flowing around her like delicate flower petals, shimmering in the flickering light.

Hoggle looked at her solemnly, nearly stammering over his words. 

“You..you sure that’s ya mom?” He asked carefully, as if the air itself would shatter. 

Deer Girl didn’t look at him, but her body language betrayed that she was lost in thought. “That name… I found it carved somewhere in my home—” She paused, turning to face the three of them on the couch. “It’s because—well, I live in a tree, and I found a carving that said ‘Ruzelda’… so I assumed…” Her voice trailed off softly.

“Where was the carving?” M/n asked, leaning on the arm of the couch.

“Inside a wooden drawer in the living area,” she replied. “I keep my books and other artifacts in there, so I see it every time I open it. It looked handcrafted, so I assume she either made it or someone made it for her.”

M/n nodded in understanding. “Is that the only memory you have of her?”

Deer Girl shook her head. “No, I vaguely remember her voice. She was taken when I was just a fawn.”

M/n nodded thoughtfully, lowering her voice in caution. “Your dad?”

“Those who survived the Goblin invasion told me he was killed.”

M/n nearly jumped in surprise. “Invasion? Do you mind explaining?”

“Not at all,” Deer Girl replied softly, clearing her throat. “A long time ago, which in the aboveground would be considered the nineteen eighties, the king ordered the capture of every non-goblin being to turn them into goblins since the army was dwindling.”

M/n leaned in, intrigued, though there was an unsettling tone in her voice. “Was the army weak?”

“I believe it was, because the last champion, Sarah, took out most of them while she was saving her baby brother,” Deer Girl replied.

“That’s awful—innocent civilians had to go through that,” M/n said, shaking her head. “That’s the cost of poor leadership.”

“And being in love,” Deer Girl added, forming a thin line with her mouth.

“He loved… this Sarah girl?” M/n asked.

Deer Girl shrugged. “Apparently.”

“Where is the girl now?” M/n inquired, her brows knitted together.

“She went home once she saved her brother and rejected Jareth,” Hoggle interjected.

“Ah,” M/n said, but her expression faltered. “But wait, isn’t Y/n the champion now?”

Hoggle shuddered. “Well, I wouldn't say yes…” He exchanged nervous glances with Deer Girl.

“He said we didn’t win because we were dragged here instead of making it on our own,” Deer Girl added with a shuddering huff, her hands clenched on her lap.

“No way! That’s totally— you know what, I'm not even surprised,” M/n huffed irritably.

The woman suddenly sat up. “But we’re still able to go home, right?”

Deer Girl and Hoggle both nodded, and M/n slumped back in relief. 

“I mean, you’re already here; I don’t see why Jareth would keep you,” Hoggle said reassuringly with a shrug. 

The silence stretched on, the only sound being the crackling of the fire.

Then, the door swung open, and Ruzelda walked in. 

“Ruzelda, you’re back! How’s my girl?” M/n asked eagerly.

“She’s good, relaxing in the bath now.”

“Did she have any injuries?” M/n inquired worriedly.

“A few smudges on her legs; the rest is just goblin blood, dirt, and sweat. She’s holding up quite well,” Ruzelda said, her voice slightly raised in appreciation.

“That’s because she’s a strong girl,” M/n replied triumphantly. “I’m so proud of her.”

“You should be,” Ruzelda said as she walked toward the fire, allowing its warmth to envelop her. “I told you, she’s got it; no need to worry about her. She is an adult now.”

The deer girl nodded in agreement and turned her head to face M/n. “If she can navigate the underground, she can handle anything.”

A warm surge of reassurance filled M/n’s chest, making her feel confident and proud. 

“I don’t want to be rude,” the deer girl added, “but I can tell you underestimate her.”

M/n shrank back, feeling somewhat exposed, and gave a weak nod. “No, you’re right.”

Ruzelda turned to M/n, a sparkle in her eyes and a smile almost curling on her face as she witnessed the walls of pride around the mother beginning to crumble.

“I love Y/n so much, more than life itself. I just want the best for her. I thought the lessons I was trying to teach her were out of love, but they were also rooted in fear and control. I realized that I often tried to turn even the smallest things into lectures, but it’s the little things that truly matter: her reactions, her reluctance to open up to me, her mood shifts, even the changes in her tone. I was more focused on what I intended to teach her than on how she was receiving it.”

Ruzelda brought her hand to her heart, smiling lovingly. “M/n, at last!” she sighed proudly.

The deer girl nodded with a small, sad smile. “That was beautifully put, and I’m sure Y/n would appreciate that a lot.”

“We’re going to have a good discussion once we’re home,” M/n said.

It was as if a heavy weight had been lifted from the room. The atmosphere became lighter, filled with a renewed energy free of anything unsaid. The fire roared and crackled in its place, casting a warm glow in the low light.

Ruzelda cleared her throat. “Now that everything has been settled,” she said, pointing to Hoggle, “You’re… Hedgwart, right?”

“Hoggle,” the dwarf replied, seemingly unfazed by the mistake. The positive energy in the room was too uplifting for him to care.

She turned to the deer girl. “What’s your name, dear?” 

The question hung in the air longer than expected. Deer girl hesitated, her fingers curling subtly into the fabric of her knees as her gaze drifted toward the floor. For a moment, it seemed she might respond.

“…I don’t have a name,” she said quietly.

The fire crackled beside them, its warmth spreading through the lounge, but it did little to ease the tension that had begun to settle beneath her skin. M/n, Hoggle, and D/n remained still, watching the exchange unfold with quiet attention.

Ruzelda tilted her head, her brows knitted together in perplexity, yet her expression remained soft.

“How do ya not remember ya own name?” she asked, studying her  closely. “You’s been here a while, haven’t ya?”

The deer girl swallowed, feeling her throat tighten slightly. “I remember... things,” she said carefully, “just not that.” Her hands clenched faintly in her lap.

“All I know is what I am. I’m a hybrid, part deer, part fae.”

M/n leaned forward slightly from where she rested against the arm of the red velvet couch, her curiosity softening her features. “But you look human,” she pointed out. “Wouldn’t that make you half deer, half human?”

The deer girl turned to M/n, shaking her head. Her expression remained calm, despite the unease flickering beneath the surface. “Humans only exist above ground,” she explained. “Fae share their likeness, which is why we look similar.”

Ruzelda gave a small nod of agreement. “Ay, that’s true. Jareth’s fae too. That’s where all them magic tricks come from,” she muttered, almost fondly.

M/n hummed in understanding, her hand absentmindedly resting against D/n as it shifted in her lap.

“Deer folk don’t got magic like that,” Ruzelda continued. “They just look the part. Quiet creatures… gentle.” Her voice softened without her noticing.

The deer girl’s ears twitched faintly. 

“Were you always a goblin?” she asked. The question slipped out before she could stop it, more direct than she intended. 

Ruzelda blinked, caught slightly off guard, then let out a quiet breath. She remained silent for a moment, her lips pressed together as the expression in her eyes shifted to something unreadable. 

“No,” she finally said slowly, “I was also of the deer-fae folk.” 

Something stirred in the deer girl’s stomach, and her heart hammered against her ribs. She attempted to contain her reaction, trying not to respond too strongly like before. Mentally, she prepared herself for further investigation as she listened closely to what the goblin lady would say next. 

Ruzelda’s tone shifted into something more distant. “A long time ago now.” 

She leaned back slightly, her gaze drifting toward the fire as if it held the memory for her. 

“Back in the eighties... the forest was full of life. Everything felt... brighter then.”

A faint, almost fragile smile touched her lips. 

“I had my little daughter… my husband…” 

The smile faltered, and her hand tightened against her apron as the memory shifted. 

“…we were happy.” 

“I’m so sorry,” M/n said softly, her voice filled with quiet sympathy, despite the uneasy feeling in her stomach. 

Ruzelda shook her head, though the motion lacked conviction. 

“He was killed,” she continued, her voice lowering. “Right in front of us, trying to protect me… and my daughter.” 

Something in the deer girl’s chest tightened sharply. The whole room seemed to hold its breath, including everyone in it. 

Her hands clenched at her legs, fingers pressing into the fabric as if grounding herself against the sudden weight pressing inward. 

Her gaze lifted slowly, settling on Ruzelda with a new intensity, one that lingered just a moment too long. 

“…your daughter,” she repeated, quieter now. 

Ruzelda nodded faintly. “Yes.” 

The deer girl swallowed, her throat dry. 

There was too much aligning, far too much to deny; and it seemed that the labyrinth itself was holding that truth.

“In the forest,” the deer girl continued, her voice distant, as if she were piecing it together as she spoke. “They spoke about a deer woman… taken from her home. A mother.” 

The room stilled. 

Ruzelda didn’t move, but something in her expression tightened—subtle, almost imperceptible. 

“They said she had a child,” the deer girl added, her eyes still fixed on her. “That she was taken too… or lost.” 

Silence stretched between them, thick and unmoving. 

The deer girl’s chest rose unevenly, her emotions pressing dangerously close to the surface. 

Ruzelda swallowed, her gaze fixed on her face, searching desperately  now in a way she hadn’t allowed herself to feel in years. 

“…look at me,” she said softly. 

The deer girl did, and something shifted inside her immediately. 

It came suddenly; not as a clear memory, but as a flood of fragments colliding all at once: light breaking through trees, the feeling of being held, a voice ,warm and familiar, calling out to her — 

Her breath hitched sharply, and her hand flew up to clutch her chest as if to steady the overwhelming surge. 

“I—” she gasped, her eyes widening. “I—” 

Ruzelda lunged toward the deer girl, collapsing on her knees and gripping her shoulders to steady her. “What is it? What do you see?” 

The deer girl shook her head, tears spilling freely now. 

“It’s— oh goodness— I just—” 

Her voice broke. 

“…Asha.”

The name slipped from her lips like a long awaiting secret. Ruzelda froze completely, her hands  shook uncontrollably at her sides -- a nervous energy that refused to subside.

She searched the girl’s face, her eyes wide and disbelieving, as if the very word had struck her in the heart.

“…What did you say?” she breathed.

The girl’s lips trembled. 

“My name…” she whispered, the realization settling into her bones, steady and undeniable now. “It’s Asha.” 

Ruzelda staggered back a step, landing on her bottom, and her hand flew to her mouth as her breath caught in her chest.

“No…” she whispered, shaking her head faintly. 

But she was already beginning to see it.

“…Asha?” her voice cracked on the name, fragile and breaking all at once. 

The girl nodded, tears streaming down her face, her entire body trembling. 

“I didn’t remember,” she choked out. “I didn’t know how you’d—”

She couldn’t finish. She didn’t need to.

Ruzelda closed the distance in an instant. Her hands came up to cup Asha’s face, trembling as she looked at her as if afraid she might disappear if she blinked.

“My girl…” she whispered, her voice breaking completely. 

Asha let out a sob. 

Ruzelda pulled her into her arms tightly and desperately, as if trying to make up for every moment they had lost. 

Asha clung to her just as fiercely, burying her face into Ruzelda’s shoulder as the tears she had been holding back finally broke free.

“I thought you were gone,” Ruzelda cried softly, holding her tighter. “I thought I lost you—”

“I didn’t remember you,” Asha sobbed into her shoulder, her grip tightening. “I didn’t remember anything—”

“That don't matter,” Ruzelda murmured, cradling the back of her head. 

They remained locked together, as if releasing each other would unravel everything. At that moment, everything felt stable at last. The room around them seemed to take a long, relieved exhale, expressing gratitude for witnessing this beautiful moment.

The door swung open, and Y/n stepped through, looking refreshed from her bath. Her gaze quickly moved to Asha and Ruzelda, who were still entangled by the fireplace. The glowing embers cast a warm light on them, making it seem as if they were part of a beautiful painting.

"No way..." Y/n gasped, her eyes widening in disbelief.

Asha and Ruzelda pulled apart, their expressions shifting to meet Y/n's astonished gaze. 

"She’s my mom, Y/n!" Asha cried, her voice trembling as she wiped away tears but quickly burst into laughter. Ruzelda, still holding her close, joined in the joy, her earlier tears now replaced with smiles.

“It looks like we’ve got a reunion,” Hoggle remarked softly, a warm grin on his face.

Y/n shut the door quietly behind her, pressing a hand to her chest as she approached. “This is surreal,” she murmured. “Your mom and my mom…” A lump formed in her throat, and she fought back tears, moved by the powerful connection they were sharing.

As the room quieted, all eyes were drawn to Y/n. She stood in the  stunning white dress that hugged her form like a second skin exuding an ethereal charm.

D/n lifted its head from M/n's lap, her eyes bright with admiration. “You look absolutely stunning, Y/n!” it exclaimed, voice warm.

M/n felt an uneasy shiver; the sight of her pet speaking still startled her in this underground world.

“What’s the occasion?” Hoggle asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Are you getting married?” Asha teased, grinning playfully.

“She might as well be,” Ruzelda replied, her gaze on Y/n filled with knowing intrigue, giving Y/n butterflies.

M/n, blissfully unaware of the underlying tension, rose up and placed her hands on her daughter’s shoulders, with D/n at her feet. 

“You look beautiful, Y/n,” she whispered, her voice filled with admiration. She scanned Y/ like she was a beautiful canvas, her eyes sparkling with motherly affection.

Y/n’s heart swelled with gratitude, a small smile playing on her lips, thankful that her mother remained oblivious to the complicated story woven into the fabric of the dress. “Thank you, Mom,” she replied, her tone soft yet hesitant

“Glad we can take it home with you,” M/n added with a light hearted giggle. 

“Uh, yeah!” Y/n responded, though her voice faltered slightly, anxiety gnawing at her insides. The reality of the situation loomed large, casting a shadow over her false enthusiasm. She carefully placed her hands over one of M/n’s, cupping them tenderly.  “We need to get out of here, all of us.” With that, she gestured around the room, the urgency in her voice underscoring her desire to escape from the suffocating atmosphere, before gently parting from her mother’s comforting grasp.

Ruzelda shook her head. “I can’t leave. I is bind the king for eternity, dearest.” For once, those words hit like a hammer to her chest, burdened with the pain of acceptance.

“I’ll stay with you… Mom…” Asha nearly hesitated on the last word, realizing she had to get used to calling her that.

“That means you’ll have to work for Jareth,” Ruzelda replied, a hint of resignation in her voice.

“I’m willing! If it means being with you,” Asha urged, desperation lacing her tone.

Ruzelda nodded. “Even if it means never stepping outside the Goblin City again?”

Asha shook her head defiantly. “We won’t be here forever. I’ll make sure of it.” 

"That's impossible, my dear, unless the king wills it. " Ruzelda said, disappointment etched in her voice.

Y/n, overhearing the conversation, felt a surge of resentment. She stepped away from M/n, the injustice filling her with resolve. “It isn’t fair that you have to go through this. I wish there was a way for you to return to the forest. But unfortunately, it will take a good talking to with the king.”

Asha nodded. “I know, and the fact that we have to work for that tyrant boils my blood, but at least I’ll be angry alongside my mother.”

“It's so nice that you still see the beauty in this situation, dear,” M/n said.

Hoggle spoke up, puffing out his chest. “Yeah, and if ya ever needs anything, Hoggle will be your friend,” laughter echoed in the room, lightening the mood.

Hoggle and Y/n stepped close to each other and she knelt to his level, locking eyes with him. 

“And, Y/n, should you ever need us…” Hoggle murmured.

“Yes, should you need us,” Asha chimed in softly, her expression marked by a newfound softness. 

Y/n pulled Hoggle in for a hug. “I’ll call on you guys.”

She stood up and walked toward Asha, and they pulled each other into a loving embrace.

“I’ll miss you, Y/n,” she said, choking back sobs.

“I’ll miss you too, Asha. I would have preferred not to finish the labyrinth than to go through it without you,” Y/n replied with shuddering breaths.

Ruzelda and M/n exchanged warm glances, sharing a moment of silent understanding as M/n mouthed a 'thank you.'

As they moved towards the door, they discovered the handle was missing. “Where did the—” Y/n began. “Here,” D/n chimed, its tail wagging from the other side of the large doors. “That’s odd…” M/n said, turning the knob.

A bright light appeared like a heavenly portal. The three turned to see their friends wave goodbye, returning the gesture before stepping through one by one. The transition was quiet and seamless, with no resistance from the labyrinth.

Once she stepped inside, the door closed behind her on its own. When Y/N turns back to look, it's gone, and she finds herself in the comfort of her room. The atmosphere is silent and normal, almost eerily so. For a moment, it feels like nothing has happened at all. 

She glanced down and noticed that her dress had changed into the blue cami top and gray sweatpants she had worn before. Everything is intact, and she appears clean and normal with no bruises or scrapes.

She heard a soft knock on her door. "Come in," she called softly.

M/n and D/n entered her room. M/n held her computer, phone, and the labyrinth book in her hands. She placed them gently on her nightstand and hugged Y/n tightly, a sign of mutual understanding.

"I love you so much, Y/n. You are capable of so many things and have never failed to make me proud," she said, cupping Y/n's face. "I'm sorry if I ever made you feel like you weren't doing enough. Honestly, you have already shown me many ways, including today, that you are growing into a hardworking, faithful, and strong woman." She kissed Y/n on the forehead.

At that moment, it felt like the world fell beautifully into place. Y/n stared at M/n, tears nearly welling in her eyes. She blinked them back and gave a soft nod. 

"I love you, Mama. Thank you."

M/n briefly stroked her daughter’s cheek with her thumb before pulling away. 

"We’ll talk more in the morning. Get some rest, sweetie," she said reassuringly.

She left the room, closing the door gracefully behind her, leaving Y/n and D/n alone. Her dog sighed, lying on the edge of the bed. 

Y/n discarded her top and sweats, stepping out of them as they pooled at her feet. She walked to her clothes drawer, which was miraculously clean after having the clothes in a messy heap on the floor. She grabbed an oversized t-shirt and a pair of her favorite pajama pants. 

As she walked over to her nightstand, she picked up her phone, which was resting on top of the infamous red book. She stared at it for a while, as if burning daggers into it. Finally, she grabbed the book and placed it in the drawer of her desk, hiding it from sight. Then she crawled into bed, pulling the covers over her body with her phone in hand. 

The night is quiet, almost unnaturally so. Y/N lies awake in her bed, staring at her phone and scrolling aimlessly in an attempt to distract herself. D/N is curled up beside her, calm and grounded, while she feels anything but.

As she scrolled through social media, desperately trying to escape her swirling thoughts, her mind kept drifting back to unwanted memories. Soon, the algorithm served up clips from the Labyrinth movie, particularly captivating edits of its memorable scenes. 

Curious, she delved into the comments, noticing the overwhelming waves of love it received. 

But as she continued scrolling, she stumbled upon a provocative Jareth edit, causing her throat to tighten. Frustrated, she quickly exited the app with a huff.

A gnawing curiosity, like a relentless parasite, urged her to search for answers. Reluctantly, she opened Google, her fingers poised to explore a web of thoughts she couldn’t quite shake off.

Hidden meanings of jim henson’s labyrinth

Jareth symbolism explained

What Labyrinth 1986  really represents

Initially, she reads passively, but soon she begins to disagree. Things feel wrong, simplistic, too distant from her own experiences. She now searches more intentionally, typing in a question that has afflicted her since the beginning.

Did Sarah and Jareth love each other?

The answers were inconsistent, conflicting, but with only one idea that stayed consistent: Jareth is shaped by what Sarah gave him, bound to the role she created. 

That idea lingered  with Y/n. Her attention sharpened as the pieces began to connect with each sentence she read from multiple blog posts. 

She found herself starting to  speak  aloud to D/n like a TedTalk speaker. The dog paid her no mind as she rambled on, her voice quiet but restless, trying to work through the thoughts forming in her head.

She thought of her words, and what she told Jareth in that room.

“You are the Labyrinth.”

She kept going, her thoughts unraveling faster now.

“He only loved Sarah because that’s what she needed him to be…”

She paused, realizing something wasn’t adding up. Her expression shifted as another realization hit her. “…wait.” She turned off her phone and sat up in her bed, the pieces no longer fitting together comfortably.

“The king of the goblins had fallen in love with the girl, and he had given her certain powers,” she whispered, reciting Sarah’s words from the book. She chewed on her lip momentarily.

“I didn’t say anything like that…” Her voice tightened, confusion creeping in.

“I never said he had to love me. I never asked for that.”

She replayed his words in her mind about declarations, what she wanted, and what she gave him. It was a vicious cycle of what ifs, beating around the bush rather than addressing the root. 

“I said my mom would be safe… that I didn’t want to be treated like a child…” She exhaled shallowly. “But I never said anything about him.” The realization deepened, becoming more unsettling than before. She tried to deny the impending emotions washing over her, as if she knew what was coming.

“So why was he so…?” She trailed off, unable to finish the thought, feeling disturbed more than confused.

She looked down at her dog, absentmindedly running her hand through its fur to ground herself. D/n, tired of being disturbed from his rest, hopped off the bed and marched to the door. Y/n sighed, dragging herself out of bed to let her dog out. After shutting the door, she crawled back into bed.

Outside her window, an owl perched on a nearby branch, cloaked in the moon's luminous embrace. It sat in stillness, patient and watchful, its imposing, unblinking eyes fixed intently on the girl inside. Y/n's phone lay forgotten in her hand, the screen fading to darkness as her thoughts took an unplanned dive into the deep end of mind.

She shifted uneasily under the heavy aura, a shiver creeped down her spine as the unsettling sense of being observed enveloped her slowly but dangerously. Slowly, driven by a mix of impending doom and curiosity, she turned her gaze to the window, only to find herself ensnared by the piercing gaze of the owl.

Her heart quickened, and she clutched the covers tightly to her chest with one arm, attempting to shield herself from the surreal moment, a vulnerability akin to being caught in her most private state

Without warning, the owl unfurled its mighty wings, a sudden surge of motion that filled the night air with a soft rustle. It swooped toward her window, embodying an eerie elegance that hinted at a threat. The curtains billowed wildly, enveloping the creature completely as a gust of wind swept through the room, sending a chill through the air.

As the fabric gently settled into place, a mysterious silhouette began to materialize from behind the sheer drapes. The delicate fluttering of the curtains unveiled the figure of Jareth, his outline gradually sharpening as the material swayed and fell away. 

A charged silence lingered in the air, wrapping around the room like a tight ribbon. Each moment stretched out, filled with an electric tension of the unknown as neither of them broke the stillness with words.

Feeling the unbearable weight of the silence, Y/n threw the covers off of her and stood, only stepping a few feet from the bed. She stood her ground, but the air in the room had shifted. 

“Why didn’t you let me go right away?” she asked. It was meant to be a demand, but it came out as a breathless thrum of curiosity.

Jareth didn’t answer immediately. He flicked stray owl feathers and glitter from his leather clad shoulder.

“A ’hello Jareth’ would have been suitable.” His low melodic voice drew as he brushed a few stray owl feathers and trails of glitter from his leather jacket.  

“I don’t have time for this, answer the question.” 

With a flick of his gloved wrist, a crystal orb bled into existence, spinning lazily above his palm. Within it, Y/n’s own voice echoed, sounding smaller and more vulnerable than she remembered…

“If I stay, it won’t be because of your flattering words… I won’t walk away completely.”

He crushed the crystal. The light swallowed itself whole.

Jareth’s face twitched, fake wonder etched on his face,  “Y/n…could it be that you’ve forgotten your own words?”

She faltered, her mouth parting, but nothing came out at first.

“That’s not what I meant,” she stammered, the heat rising to her cheeks.

Jareth tilted his head, mocking her with a sharp, knowing smirk. “No? How unfortunate. I thought you were finally being clear about your... fixation.”

He began to pace, circling her like a predator who had already won. Y/n turned with him, refusing to let him behind her, but the movement only made her more aware of how small the room had become.

Y/n immediately jumped into defense, “Can you not? It’s been a rough journey, I can only remember so much.”

She searched his face, already knowing that he wasn’t buying it.

“You could’ve sent me home,” she bit out, gesturing vaguely at the space between them. “Opened a damn portal or something. I’d be asleep and you wouldn't be here.”

Jareth paused, looking at her thoughtfully. “Now, my dear,” he murmured, “we both know that’s a lie.”

“Can you stop acting like you know me?” she snapped, but the quiver in her voice revealed her uncertainty.

Silence stretched between them for a moment. Jareth placed his hands on his hips and stepped toward her slowly.

He pointed a gloved finger at the phone tangled in her crumpled bedcovers. “You would still be awake, fiddling with that gadget.”

“I—” Y/n huffed, “I was just trying to understand.”

“Understand,” he echoed. “If understanding were so easily attained, you wouldn’t still be awake at this hour.”

“Then explain it.” She challenged him.

Jareth stepped close once more, tilting his chin up and studying her closely as he always did. 

“Would you believe me if I did?” He asked

"I'll try," she replied, feeling the warmth of his close presence.

Something unreadable flickered in Jareth's eyes.

"That is precisely what concerns me."

Y/n frowned. "What do you mean?"

"It means," he continued smoothly, beginning to pace, "that you insist on trying to explain the unexplainable. It makes perfect sense; it simply doesn't comfort you."

Y/n shook her head, back up a step without realizing, “No, because you said,” she faltered, trying to piece it together, “that you gave everything that I declared.”

“And did I not?” he spat out almost arrogantly. 

“I never said you had to…feel anything.” She said the last part quietly.

Something dark settled behind Jareth’s eyes, a predatory hunger that was strangely calming in its honesty. “You assume,” he continued in a low voice, as he started circling her this time, “that I am only what I am told to be.”

“But you granted wishes, played a role in someone else’s story, and reacted when things didn't go as planned,” Y/N said in her defense.

Jareth paused, still gazing at her with an expectant look as she continued.

“You are the labyrinth. I’ve said it before, and I stand by that. But there’s still a gray area.”

Jareth raised an eyebrow, surprise mingling with skepticism as his mouth turned downward. She was undeniably bold, her confidence shining through. A flicker of amusement sparked in his eyes as he slowed his pace around her, each step deliberate, assessing this intriguing figure before him.

“I am many things,” he said. “But I am not..empty. You did not ask for my affection. You did not assign it.”

Another step closer. 

“And yet you are troubled that it exists.”

Y/n’s heart hammered against her ribs, like a frantic bird in a cage. “You’re circling me like prey.”

“Prey?” Jareth repeated, almost amused. 

He stepped closer, their bodies nearly touching, locked in a shared space that felt both sacred and intimate. The air between them buzzed with unspoken tension, just enough distance that he could reach out and touch her gently.

“Is that truly how you see yourself?”

She stood before him, unsure whether it was the magnetic energy radiating from his presence or the weight of the unasked question that filled the air like an intoxicating scent.

“And yet,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a whisper, “you have not fled.” 

Y/n forced herself to maintain his intense gaze, feeling the tension weave around them.

The silence stretched, heavy and definite, Y/n could hear her own uneven breaths echoing in her ears like cymbals.

“Did you love her?” she blurted without a second thought, the name of Sarah hung in the air like a dark omen between them.

Jareth arched an eyebrow and stepped back slightly, his demeanor shifting. “Who?”

Y/n felt her throat constrict with anxiety. “Sarah,” she repeated, the weight of the name lingering like a bad taste. 

A flicker of irritation crossed the king's face as he closed his eyes, exuding a palpable exasperation. “What of her?”

“Did you love her?” she pressed, her voice firm and level despite the uncertainty swirling inside her.

His expression hardened into a numb mask, the corners of his mouth barely twitching. “That’s an entirely different matter.”

“Yes or no?” she insisted, determination flaring within her.

Jareth cradled his chin in his hand, the gesture both contemplative and dismissive. 

“She approached me with a spirit of defiance,” he continued, his tone shifting, “with a narrative already engraved into her mind.”

His dark eyes locked onto Y/n’s once more, their depths revealing a flicker of something unspoken.

“I played my part,” he continued, his voice laced with a haunting detachment. “I was…necessary to her. And then she left.”

Y/n’s brows knitted together, a storm of emotions swirling within her. Something sharper and deeper was beginning to take form.

“So then,” she breathed, her voice almost catching in her throat, asking a question she already knew the answer to. “why did the Underground go to shit when she left?" 

He shifted on his heels, still close enough that the heat radiated from him in waves. 

“When something essential is removed, it creates an imbalance. I simply adapted.”

Y/n tilted her head, the answer landing harder than she intended it to. "Eessential for what?"

Jareth waved a dismissive hand, "The way of the labyrinth and my kingdom." It was clear he wanted the matter to be brushed over. 

“You tore families apart, Jareth,” she whispered in disgust, mindful of her mother in the next room. “You’re projecting your bruised ego onto everyone because she didn't want you. Aren’t you…embarassed?”

She realized the true story wasn't about the labyrinth or the goblin kingdom. It was about Jareth's profound loneliness, a constant shadow in his life. His playful demeanor, arrogance, and deflection masked a deeper yearning for love and connection, reflecting a desperate struggle that haunted him as intricately as the maze itself.

“You want remorse.” Jareth's words sliced through the tension in the air, his voice steady and measured.

“You speak of ego, yet…” he continued, tilting his chin defiantly, “you stand here demanding that I feel as you would.”

Y/n feeling the heat of frustration rising within her, threw her hands up in exasperation, her fingers splayed as if to physically ward off the nonsense of the conversation. “For goodness sake,” she huffed as she placed her hands firmly on her hips, grounding herself amidst the emotional chaos.

“Get out.” 

The command held a weight that struck the air like a blade, sharper than any cutting remark she might utter during this remarkably useless exchange.

“I can’t do this. I can’t lose sleep trying to psychoanalyze a—”

Before she could finish her thought, he closed the distance between them, slipping his hand around her waist with an intensity that sent sparks racing along her skin. The sudden contact ignited a response deep within her that she fought to suppress. He pulled her against him, so close that she could feel the warmth radiating from his body, her frame turning sideways as instinct gripped her to shield herself. Yet, her hands found themselves pinned against his chest.

“And if I do leave,” he whispered, his breath ghosting over her temple, “will that satisfy you?”

Y/n opened her mouth to protest, words wavering on the brink of escape, but Jareth pressed on, his voice a low rumble like thunder approaching. 

“You seek distance the moment you crave answers, how very human of you.”

Nervously, she licked her lips, her thoughts whirling in a turmoil of confusion as she scrambled for the right words to say. Her heart raced, so loud she could hear it reverberating it in her head. 

“If you truly wish me gone…” he drawled, his grip tightening possessively, forcing her to meet his intense gaze, which glimmered with an entirely new depth.

“...say it again.”

The weight of her unspoken desire to be free hung heavy in the air. I wish you were gone. The words lingered temptingly on the tip of her tongue, a spell that could turn him into a fleeting barn owl disappearing into the night.

She lowered her head, feeling the intensity of the moment crushing down upon her, but Jareth was quicker. His head dipped, capturing her gaze just in time, and without any warnings or questions, he crashed his lips against hers. It wasn’t merely a kiss; it was a claim, one that seemed to seal their fates together in that wild, chaotic moment.

Y/n's breath caught in her throat as the soft, unexpected contact sent a shiver of electricity through her body, as if their lips were discovering each other for the very first time once again.

“Say it,” he murmured against her lips, his voice a deep, vibrating command that seemed to resonate within her.

“I wish…” Y/n started, her voice barely above a whisper, but the words faded as he captured her lips again, this time with a hunger that ignited a flame deep within her that she couldn't. His tongue glided teasingly along the seam of her lips, sending a thrill coursing through her.

He withdrew just slightly, his eyes burning with a powerful mix of triumph and desire. 

“Say it,” he urged softly, his voice thick with boldness. He leaned in, his lips trailing kisses along her jawline, slowly descending to the delicate curve of her neck. Each brush of his lips against her skin ignited her senses, leaving her breathless.

He halted his exploration for a moment, lifting his gaze to meet hers from. “There it is,” he drawled, a devilish arrogance painting his features. “You can’t say it.”

“I can,” she insisted, though her body struggled in the midst of a silent war between arching into his caresses and shoving him away in defiance. Her palms pressed against his chest, an impulse to push him back, yet the warmth radiating from him seeped into her skin, igniting a chaotic fusion of sensations that forced her to yield. In that moment, she felt herself melting into his touch, caught in an intoxicating cycle of desire and resistance, each moment more thrilling than the last as she practically ached for him.

Jareth let out a low, knowing huff of amusement against the skin of her neck. His gloved hands slid with agonizing slowness down the dip of her waist to the band of her pants, his thumbs hooking just under the edge. 

She shouldn't want this. She should be screaming the words that would turn him into feathers and wind. But the texture of his later gloves against her feverishness sent her over the edge.

Instead, as he trailed a path of fire down to her hips, her head fell back slowly, eyes rolled shut, and her hands finally surrendered, sliding  upward, past his shoulders, burying themselves deep into his blonde hair, anchoring herself to him as the world began to fade away.

Jareth suddenly went still. The absence of his movement was more jarring than the touch itself.

He straightened up, withdrawing one hand from her hip to gently catch her chin, tilting her gaze upward to meet his. His eyes held a storm of sharp intent along with a warmth that felt incredibly tempting. He observed how her chest heaved, her body nearly limp, and how the night’s luminous light highlighted all the right places on her.

“You’re stalling, my dear,” he murmured, his voice a velvet edge.

“I’m not–”

The words were a fractured wreck, caught in her throat. She felt the backs of her knees hit the edge of the mattress, the sudden contact sending a jolt through her.

He leaned in, his lips a hair’s breadth from hers, waiting for the blow.

“Then say it. Properly.”

“I wish...” she tried again, her voice shaking with a mix of fury and a desperate, unspoken need to be interrupted.

“What do you wish, Y/n?” he prompted, his voice dropping to a gravelly, hypnotic register.

He dipped his head, his lips grazing the sensitive skin just below her jaw once more, and she felt her resolve shatter like one of his crystals.

“I wish you were…” she gasped, her voice trembling as her fingers wove tightly into his hair, pulling his face closer until their lips collided with a fervent urgency.

Minutes slipped away, and they found themselves a tangle of limbs and heavy breaths on the bed. His hands glided down her hips, the deliberate slowness of his movements igniting anticipation within her. As he gently tugged at the waistband of her pajama pants, his fingers brushed against the delicate skin at the groin of her legs, sending pools of heated pleasure between her legs, making her instinctively squirm beneath his touch.

Still kissing her, he briefly pulled his hands away to quickly discard his gloves, letting them fall to the floor beside the bed. His hands resumed their exploration, gliding under her shirt to trace the gentle curves of her breasts. A flicker of amusement crossed his features as he discovered that she wasn't wearing a bra, and he couldn't help but raise an eyebrow in intrigue. 

Breaking their kiss, he began to trail soft kisses down the center of her throat, and a shiver of excitement raced through her as his lips brushed against her sensitive skin. His thumbs rested at the precarious barrier between the fabric of her underwear and her exposed skin.

Y/n, fully aware of where his fingers were, shifted her leg wider so that he had more access to the place she wanted him most. Heat and fluids pooled between her legs that came in waves, pulsating for his attention. 

With a slow, predatory grace, one of his thumbs snaked beneath the thin fabric of her underwear, teasing her with an effortless, agonizing precision. He trailed a path of kisses along her collarbone, each one a promise as he inched achingly closer to her swollen core.

The barrier of reality and a dream blurred the lines; the world of the mattress ceasing to exist leaving only the silver lit sanctuary of her room. Y/n;s head remained thrown back, her throat arched in a long , vulnerable line as she stared at the ceiling through half lidded eyes. Each breath is more unstable than the last. 

Her body shot intense pulses as his thumb circled her swollen core, her back instantly arched into his touch, a moan that she wasn’t thinking of slipped out, encouraging him to press harder. 

His other hands snaked up her stomach, kneading her breast as he reached up and kissed her deeply again. Only it was hungrier, more deliberate–sloppier. 

He added two more fingers within her folds, taking the opportunity to slip his tongue into her mouth once she let out a small shuddering gasp. 

She grinded against his fingers fervently, her hands slipped over his shoulders once more, down the length of his torso, and at the band of his pants. 

Jareth stopped, pulling away to look deep into her eyes, the light of the night cascaded shadows on his figure. 

“Not now love,” he murmured, his breath thick from their intensity. 

“What,” she huffed out, trying to catch her breath.

“I want you to remember this,” he said, his tone dropping into a rare, staggering tenderness that felt more dangerous than his arrogance.

Y/n nodded faintly, her gaze wandering over him, tracing the sharp lines of his silhouette in the moonlight. “At least…” she managed, her voice a whisper, “take your jacket off.”

Jareth discarded his leather jacket without a second thought, the belts and buckles on it made a clank as it hit the  floor next to the bed. 

With gentle hands, he pulled down her pants along with her underwear, she squirmed out of them and with a swift flick of his wrist, he tossed the fabric into the shadows. 

He was now on his knees, towering over her. His long and nimble fingers worked the remaining buttons of his white blouse, moving from his chest down to the narrow fastening at his cuffs.  

He was open and exposed, and so he paused. He looked down at Y/n with a raw unshielded longing. For centuries he had ruled a kingdom of dreams, yet at this moment he had found himself preferring the reality of the devastatingly beautiful woman lying vulnerable beneath him.

“You want more?” he drawled, a lazy smirk forming on his lips.

“Don’t.” Y/n warned, finally catching her breath.

Jareth lowered himself onto her again, his fingers making contact with her bare core again, using the pads of his fingertips to circle around her sensitive nub in a tempo that was too perfect.

“You’ve spent so much time fighting, yet here you are, surrendering so beautifully,” he teased, his eyes lighting up as she let out another moan. To him, the sound was more exquisite than any melody he's heard, so much so that he nearly let out a low, caught moan of his own.

“That's a very dangerous sound to make in front of a King, my dear.” He said, rubbing deeper circles.

Y/n bit her lip, bucking her hips at the sensation, making that same pleasant sound.

“It makes me want to ensure you never make it for anyone else.”

Something about the deep rooted possession in his voice, sent ripples of pleasure throughout Y/n, making her throb.

“What if…” she held back another moan, “I made it for someone else?”

Jareth’s hand went perfectly still, though he didn’t pull away. Which seemed to land harder than the heat of his touch. His eyes darkened dramatically, the room itself seeming to still be around them.

“Hypothecials, Y/n?” He murmured, his voice dripped with a low dangerous timbre that brushed against her face.

Y/n’s breathing  was still deep, she was irritated that he had stopped. “Threatened, Jareth?” 

The king took her hands and pinned them on either side of her head, their eyes never leaving each other as their breaths synced.

“If you were to make that sound for another,” he began, “I would simply have to remind you of every dream and every breath you’ve taken in my presence belongs to me.”

He dipped his head, his lips ghosting over the shell of her ear. 

“And oh, precious girl, how I despise sharing.”

He punctuated the statement by pressing his weight back into her, his hands gliding from her wrists to down her torso, his head going along with it fluidly as he kept his eyes locked on her. Not a single movement faltered as he flicked his tongue dangerously, slowing up her stomach, and back down again all the way to her core. 

Her body jerked slightly, feeling the wetness against her folds, “Jare-” she gasped, digging her nails in the sheets. 

Jareth’s eyes remained on her, as he twisted and swirled his tongue between her wet folds. She writhed in the covers as they clenched underneath her.  

She moaned softly, her hips bucked slightly to deepen his tongue. 

Jareth kept his eyes on her, kneading  the backs of her thighs with his skilled hands as he continued consuming her relentlessly. 

He couldn’t help but smirk against her skin, his gaze fixed on the way her body arched, shifted, and sank into the covers beneath her weight. A series of his favorite sounds--broken, breathless, and utterly unique--escaped her swollen, parted lips.

His tongue left her soaked, he started trailing kisses and licks from her groin to her thigh. 

She let out a mewl, her head falling helplessly to the side. 

“Look at you, trembling for me.” He whispered against her skin, planting a gentle kiss on her inner thigh. His mouth trailed down again, he continued to devour her. 

Y/n’s response was a high-pitched sound that caught at the back of her throat. She rolled her head back to the center, eyes squeezed shut; she didn't dare make eye contact with him, knowing that if she saw the triumph in his gaze, she would lose whatever tether she had left to reality. 

Driven by a sudden, desperate need for closeness, she hooked her legs over his shoulders, locking him into her space.

As she arched again, her breath hitching into a loud, desperate cry that threatened to echo through the quiet house, Jareth moved with a sudden, fluid grace, his large hand coming up to firmly cover her mouth.

The sound was instantly muffled, forced back into her lungs. Her eyes flew wide, locking onto his mismatched gaze as he pinned her head back against the bed.

"Hush, precious girl," he murmured, his voice low. "We wouldn't want to wake the rest of the house, would we?” A deviant grin on his face, his eyes clouded with desire. 

Y/n's muffled protests were replaced with frantic, rhythmic hums against his palm.  Neither of them could look away; their gazes were locked in a silent, searing exchange that stripped away every remaining defense. 

His hand that was on her other thigh slid down, his fingers working  in sync with his tongue fervently in their own accord.

He watched as her eyes squeezed shut, captivated by how gorgeous she looked as she shamelessly submitted to his movements. He refused to look away, his gaze drinking in every tremor and relishing every muffled sound that vibrated against his hand. His own breath became labored, a sharp ache building within him as he subconsciously began to grind against the mattress, driven by a primal, mounting need. Touching her wasn’t enough; he wanted to live within her, to be completely engulfed. He craved to consume her until she was undeniably his in every aspect.

He watched her eyes fly wide as the final wave hit her, his fingers splaying firmly against her cheek to hold her steady through the peak. He didn't pull his hand away, maintaining that inseparable contact until her breathing began to level out and the frantic bucking of her hips finally subsided into a trembling quiet.

Slowly, almost reverently, he slid his hand away, his thumb lingering to trace the swollen line of her lower lip.

"There," he whispered, a smirk finally returning to his face, though his eyes remained soft. His eyes flickered to her pulsating core, a chuckle escaped his lips. “A mess you’ve made my dear.”

“…shut up…” y/n huffed, catching her breath. 

His mismatched eyes locked onto hers as if searching for any final trace of the girl who had told him to leave.

“Mm, still want me to go?” He pressed. The silver moonlight poured through the window, catching every sharp, defined ridge of his abdomen and powerful breadth of his chest, casting him in a glow that made him appear less as a man and more like a sculpted marble artwork that was too beautiful to look away from. 

“You’re still on that?” Y/n groaned, her face still softened by the lingering traces of blissful exhaustion.

Jareth let out a low, melodic chuckle. A palpable wave of arrogance washed over him, fueled by the intoxicating knowledge that he had finally won. For he had, at last, pulled her into his orbit and watched her submit. But it was never just about the victory of the moment; he craved the entirety of her. He wanted her brilliant, sharp mind, her cutting wit, and that defiant, bountiful spirit. He wanted to own every fragment of her soul.

Y/n hadn't fully realized that the storm of emotions she usually kept under lock and key had finally broken free. They manifested now as slow, rhythmic waves of heat pulsing through her body, making her skin feel hypersensitive and alive.

She pushed herself up, her feet finally meeting the floor where their discarded clothes lay scattered. Dressed in nothing but her oversized shirt, which grazed the tops of her thighs, she tried to gain composure. Her breathing began to level out as she ran a hand over her face, her palms eventually coming to rest on her hips as she stood before him in the quiet moonlight.

“Oh, God…” she whispered in realization. 

The silence of the room felt heavier now, no longer charged with friction and desire, but of a weight of what had just been surrendered. 

Jareth sat at the edge of the bed, watching her, his eyes tracing her with a possessive heat that hadn't quite cooled. 

“A bit late for regret, isn’t it?” Jareth’s deep timbre of a voice sliced through the silence.

Y/n crossed her arms, as if hiding her exposure, her head nearly bowed. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“Supposed to,” Jareth echoed, the words sounding like an insult as they left his lips. He stood up with fluid grace and strided toward her, settling directly behind her. 

He leaned down, his breath ghosting hot and steady against the shell of her ear.

“You chose this, Y/n. Every shudder, every breath, every sound.”

Y/n nearly shuddered again, though this time it was fueled by a sudden, sharp spike of embarrassment. She had finally found herself hoping that this was all just a fever dream she could wake up from and forget. But the heat of his body behind her told her a different story.

Jareth’s breath remained ghosting over her shoulder, “You’re frightened.”

Y/n shook her head in denial, “I feel…exposed…” she croaked, staring blankly at the window. 

“Of course you do,” Jareth affirmed, “because now you realize the labyrinth doesn’t end at your bedroom door.”

Y/n turned her head, catching the glint of his mismatched eyes, his arrogance was prominent. But she still sensed the raw, unshielded longing from  moments ago, a hunger that said he wasn't finished with her soul just yet.

“Jareth, this isn’t a game anymore.” she said, gaining composure.

“My dear,” he murmured slowly and dangerously. “It never was.”

Before Y/n could register anything, the presence of Jareth’s body vanished as he brushed past her toward the window.

He didn't leave immediately, he never did. His back remained turned as the moonlight caught the sharp outline of his lithe frame.

“You think this was a seal of surrender,” he said softly, his voice carrying that same deep, grounding lowness that settled like a weight in her chest. “But you’ve only just begun to find yourself. I can wait, Y/n. I have all of time, after all.”

He turned his head slightly, just enough for the moonlight to catch the sharp outline of his profile. He didn't turn to face her fully, nor did he grant her the comfort of eye contact, allowing the weight of his words to hang in the air between them, disregarding her discomfort entirely.

“Continue to exist in your world, embodying the woman you claim you ought to be,” he challenged. “Sit in your classes and listen to your lectures, walk among them, laugh.” he spat out the last word bitterly.

As encouraging as she wanted to feel, Y/n felt an odd sinking in her stomach. The light shifted, the shadows of the room casted some of  his figure in a dark cloak of darkness. His silhouette cut a jagged line against the moonlight. 

He turned his body to face her fully, and she nearly flinched at the sight of him. He looked almost unrecognizable, no longer charming as the moonlight stripped away the glamour, leaving only the raw, cold intensity of a creature who didn't belong to her world.

“But, you’ll find out that ‘normal’  is a very bitter taste after tonight, precious girl.” His voice was full of malice that she had never heard before.

He stepped back, the rays of shadows engulfing him further as if swallowing him whole.

“So go on and chase your achievements, your plans, your adventures…but remember.” 

He paused, one of his eyes catching the light one last time.

“I am the only thing in this world that actually answers when you call.”

A sudden rush of air swept through the room, causing the curtains to billow dramatically. Y/n blinked, her body instinctively jolting.

When the fabric finally settled, the windows remained untouched. The space around her was completely empty; she looked down at the floor, and the only things left were her discarded pieces of clothing. His jacket and gloves were gone. The only evidence that he had been there was the sinking feeling in her stomach and the frantic beating of her heart against her ribs.

Y/n bolted through the corridors, unsure of her direction as she frantically searched for her friends. A newfound strength surged within her, propelling her forward despite the spasms in her muscles and the throbbing soreness of her bruises. The sound of her footsteps echoed off the castle walls, filling her ears with sharp reverberations.

Doubts began to creep into her mind about the ease of her exchange with Jareth as she darted around numerous corners, trying her best to retrace her steps. Each turn slowed her down, making her movements uncertain. Her heart raced as she staggered. Eventually, she stopped and slumped against one of the walls, gasping for breath. This journey had taken a toll on her stamina.

She took deep breaths, attempting to calm her nerves. The castle was oddly quiet; she had expected to hear the multitudes of goblins running about, causing a ruckus. Instead, the air felt heavy with tension, and an uncanny stillness made her sit up straight. She turned her head, scanning her surroundings, sensing an odd presence, as if she were being watched.

"Then go, become everything you intend to become," Jareth's voice echoed in her mind.

"Did he mean that?" she wondered, furrowing her eyebrows as she pushed herself off the wall. Shaking off the question, she began to walk, searching for any signs of refuge.

Suddenly, the sound of hurried footsteps reached her ears from a distance. As the sound drew closer, she heard panicked gasps, and Y/n's heart dropped into her stomach, instantly registering that trouble was approaching.

As they turned the corner, Deer Girl dashed down the corridor, her ears perked up with restless energy and her dress billowing dramatically behind her. Without glancing back, she yanked Y/n by the wrist, and the two girls sprinted side by side.

"Why are we running!?" Y/n exclaimed.

"...goblins... after... us!" Deer Girl gasped desperately.

"Where are D/n and Hoggle?" Y/n panted.

"Don't know! We need... to hide!" Deer Girl replied, stumbling over her own feet.

"Seize them both!" a distorted voice shouted, accompanied by the clanking of metal.

'So, he didn't mean it?' Y/n thought in a panic.

They finally came across two doors on opposite sides of the corridor. Instinctively, the girls split up and tugged on the knobs, but neither door budged.

Y/n cursed under her breath, her heart racing as she saw the goblins charging toward them at an alarming speed, clashing their weapons together like a declaration of war.

Y/n shifted to the next door, pulling it with all her strength. To her relief, it swung open, spewing out mops, buckets, brooms, pots, and various other household supplies. Including...

"A vacuum?" she questioned as it fell to her feet.

Deer Girl rushed to her side, her nose twitching in confusion. "What the hell is a vacuum?"

"This thing," Y/n grunted, lifting it, "Let's use it to fend off these guys!"

Once again, they were fighting off goblins for their lives. Y/n swung the vacuum around in front of her with all her might, knocking a couple of goblins to the ground and disarming them instantly. Deer Girl struck another goblin in the eye with the end of a broomstick. Luckily, these goblins were reminiscent of those depicted in movies, providing Y/n with comical relief. She found herself smiling as she grabbed a bucket and slammed it into the face of a short, heavyset goblin that lunged at her.

"I'm getting tired!" Deer Girl huffed, grabbing a frying pan and knocking out a goblin with a swift swing.

Y/n glanced at the ajar closet door and noticed piles of junk inside. She ran in and used all her strength to topple everything over, creating a chaotic heap between them and the goblins, who were now struggling to get through it. Pots and pans tumbled down, along with more cleaning supplies, a bicycle, and even a couple of trash cans.

"

What the hell is this closet for?" Y/n exclaimed, stepping back from the endless cascade of rubbish.

"Doesn't matter, they can barely get to us now," Deer Girl sighed, her chest heaving with exhaustion and triumph.

"What on earth is going on here?" an elderly female voice cried out irritably.

Deer Girl and Y/n turned quickly to find a lady goblin with white coily hair that grazed her hunched shoulders. She wore a flowing green robe-like dress, pooling at her feet, complemented by a neat beige apron. Slightly shorter than Deer Girl, her deep-set wrinkles gave her a beautiful, timeless charm. At the same time, her stern white eyebrows arched gracefully, hinting at a life filled with wisdom.

"Why is ya botherin' these two young ladies?" she exclaimed, exasperation creeping into her voice. "I'm tryna clean!"

The leader of the goblin crew, wild-haired, with a receding hand and crooked teeth, struggled to push past the mess. "The ladies ain't suppos'd be here! Seize them!" he shouted, his confusion evident.

The goblin lady rolled her eyes. "Did the king order this?" she challenged, arms crossed.

The goblins exchanged perplexed looks, emitting a series of ridiculous, dumbfounded squeaks.

"Idiots! I'll handle this!" she huffed, waving them away dismissively. "Get lost, will ya? Or to the bog ya go!"

As the goblins scrambled off, one dragging their unconscious friend, the goblin lady turned to Deer Girl and Y/n, her expression warm and kind.

"I knew the king wasn't after ya," she said, smiling. "The guards just gets bored around here," she added with a casual shrug.

Deer Girl and Y/n let out nervous chuckles.

"They's scared of me since I's the honorary servant bound to work with his majesty for eternity."

"Ah," Deer Girl said with a nod. "Like a special assistant?"

The goblin lady nodded. She looked at Deer Girl and then scrutinized Y/n extra hard, squinting her eyes.

"You is  of human blood, aren't ya, young lady?" she asked.

Y/n nodded subtly.

The goblin lady's gaze softened. "Well, aren't you a gorgeous thing, just like your mother."

Y/n’s eyes widened. "How did you—"

"Ah girl, you thinks I was born yesterday? I see the resemblance," the goblin lady interrupted, waving her hand dismissively.

Y/n felt her face grow hot with embarrassment.

"But don't worry, ye pretty little head, she's safe," the goblin lady continued, turning on her heel to usher the two girls to follow her. "Follow me to the lounge."

They made their way down the halls until they finally reached a large archway with a wooden door. Ruzelda opened it.

The lounge was nothing like the cold stone passages they had just come from. A deep red velvet couch stretched along one side of the room, its cushions plush and slightly worn, as though unseen guests had used it for years. Across from it, a large fireplace crackled softly, its embers dancing calmly in the dim light.

A thick rug sprawled across the floor beneath their feet, woven in rich dark tones that seemed to shift subtly in the firelight. Its intricate patterns were almost hypnotic if stared at for too long. The stone walls remained, but here they felt less oppressive, softened by age and the flicker of warmth. Tall windows arched along the far side of the room, their glass slightly fogged.

The two girls sat together, and the goblin lady looked upon them with pity, noticing their sweaty, bruised state and tired eyes. 

"I'm sure you two would like somethin' to drink," the goblin lady suggested. 

"Water," the girls replied in unison, a bit too eagerly.

She let out a laugh and walked to a carved wooden table where a tray with a pitcher and two glasses was set. She poured them each a glass and handed it to the girls, who wasted no time drinking. Water trickled down their chins as they gulped until the glasses emptied. 

The goblin woman looked over the two girls, her eyes becoming soft as her heart sank at their broken state. 

"Let's get you two freshened up, shall we?" she chirped optimistically. 

Y/n shook her head. "I need to see my mom. Can you bring me to her?"

The goblin woman raised a hand to signal the anxious girl to ease her worries, her eyes closing momentarily in peace. 

"She'll be here soon. She's safe, there's nothing to worry about, I told you."

Deer Girl began rubbing Y/n's back. Her human friend leaned on her shoulder, inching closer. 

The goblin lady looked at deer Girl. "Your beauty is like sunlight through the green leaves of the forest."

Deer Girl smiled warmly, her deer ears drooping in humility. "Thank you, ma'am. Do you visit the forest often?"

The goblin lady shook her head. "I haven't been out there in decades. I'm stuck here."

Stuck. 

Deer Girl's once relaxed posture snapped rigid immediately, causing Y/n to withdraw from her shoulder. "You're a captive!" she gasped. 

"Seems like you knows the story," the goblin lady sighed, sitting in a wooden chair that was oddly placed in the middle of the rug, in front of another carved table. 

Y/n nodded. "Yeah, she told me when we bumped into her in the forest. The underground fell into turmoil after Sarah's victory."

The goblin lady shook her head vigorously, as if trying to shake off a disgusting memory. "That blasted girl! She coulda stayed wit' him, y'know? He wouldn't have gone so crazy."

A heavy pause enveloped the room, wrapping it in a thick silence that had undeniable weight. Y/n found herself lost in thought, wrestling with the weight of her choices. The realization washed over her like a chilling wave...how a single decision could shatter an entire world. Guilt gripped her heart, coursing through her like an intensifying night tide of a lake.

Deer girl studied the goblin woman, her doe eyes squinted as if regarding a complicated painting. Despite her poor English, her voice had a timbre that was oddly soothing. The twinkle in her eyes did not go unnoticed, and the deep wrinkles held stories of laughter.

"I don't know how the underground will be," Y/n admitted, her voice soft as she nervously fiddled with her fingers.

"If I hadn't agreed to stay…" she trailed off, uncertainty etched on her face.

The goblin woman tilted her head, curiosity flickering in her eyes. "You was thinkin' of stayin'?"

"Um, I don't know…" Y/n sighed, avoiding their gaze and staring at the floor.

"This place'll never forget the ones who leave," Ruzelda muttered, her voice heavy with unspoken memories.

Y/n chewed her lip anxiously, her leg bouncing as tension filled the air.

"What do you mean you don't know? You want to go home, don't you?" Deer Girl asked, suspicion clear in her tone.

Silence hung between them until Deer Girl snapped her fingers in front of Y/n's face. 

Annoyed, Y/n swatted her hand away, prompting Deer Girl to spring to her feet, eyes blazing with concern. 

"Every time that tyrant is mentioned, you act so strange! What's going on with you?" she demanded.

"You wouldn't understand!" Y/n retorted, her fists clenched as she turned away, refusing to look at Deer Girl.

The goblin lady watched, breathless, as the intensity rose.

"Then help me understand!" Deer Girl implored, desperation creeping into her voice.

Y/n struggled for words, her heart racing and her body trembling, caught between her thoughts and emotions, feeling utterly lost.

The deer girl hesitated, her mouth parting as if to speak, but before she could find her words, the heavy door creaked open in stepped Hoggle, and after him D/n. The dog's eyes sparkled with excitement as it darted forward. Y/n's arms flung wide open and enveloped her furry friend in a warm, affectionate embrace.

Just then, M/n's mother stepped through the entry, her gaze locking onto y/n's with an intensity that spoke volumes, as if time itself had been suspended since their last parting. She moved cautiously, her heart pounding, inching closer to her daughter as uncertainty and shock hovered in the air. With trembling hands, she cupped Y/n's face, searching her eyes with a mixture of love and disbelief. In unison, they gasped, their breaths shaky and filled with emotion, before pulling each other into a tight embrace that no stronghold could break.

The others—Hoggle, D/n, and deer girl—watched the reunion unfold, their hearts swelling with warmth, with soft smiles on their faces, for the scene evoked a tinge of nostalgia.

The goblin lady tilted her head, her eyes misty as she reminisced. "I'd do anything to see my daughter again," she sighed, her voice thick with longing as she observed the heartfelt moment.

The deer girl turned her head slowly toward Ruzelda, her brow furrowing in confusion and curiosity at the weight of the statement. 

M/n's expression shifted, faltering as her gaze swept over her daughter's battered form.

"Oh, Y/n, my baby," M/n gasped, her voice quivering as she pulled her daughter into another embrace, her heart aching at the sight of her daughter's state. "We need to get you cleaned up."

"Can't I just shower and take care of my own cuts and bruises at home?" Y/n replied, tilting her head with a hint of defiance. Her eyes showed a weary defiance.

The goblin lady interjected gently, "I thinks it's best if the little lady bathes here. It will give her and the rest of us a chance to breathe, and you can go home after."

Gratitude washed over M/n as she nodded. "Thank you, Ruzelda. Please, help her get cleaned up!"

As Ruzelda moved to lead Y/n away, the deer girl's ears perked up, her heart plunging as if it had fallen into a bottomless pit. Panic surged within her, and she instinctively reached out toward Ruzelda. "Wait—"

"I'll set up the bath. Follow me this way, Miss Y/n," Ruzelda said, her tone reassuring as she gestured for Y/n to step through the door. With a gentle click, the door shut behind them, sealing their little group in a moment of stillness.

The quiet that followed settled heavily in the room as M/n, Hoggle, and D/n turned their attention to the deer girl, who had crumpled to her knees, her breath hitching as she fought back tears.

M/n rushed to her side, concerned etched her features. "What's the matter, sweetie?" she asked, her voice laced with worry.

"Yeah, what got you upset?" Hoggle inquired, his hand resting comfortingly on her shoulder.

The deer girl sniffled, her dark brown eyes shimmering with unshed tears, resembling rippling pools of ink. She remained fixated on the closed door as if expecting an apparition to appear. 

"Ruzelda was my mother's name."

Y/N discarded her clothes slowly, allowing them to pool at her feet. The bathroom was nothing like the rest of the castle; it felt warm and almost indulgent. Soft amber light flickered from sconces mounted along the walls, their glow reflecting against the polished black marble that replaced the rough stone of the corridors outside. The floor beneath her feet was smooth and heated, easing the ache in her muscles as she stepped forward. Vines carved into the walls twisted around mirrors framed in tarnished gold, and the air carried a faint herbal scent that felt nostalgic.

At the end of the room sat a freestanding slipper tub, already filled with steaming water and bubbles. Y/N made her way to a cushioned chaise draped in clean linens and lowered herself onto it carefully, letting out a quiet breath as her body finally succumbed to exhaustion. 

"It's like a spa room here," she murmured.  

"Nice, ain't it?" Ruzelda beamed, kneeling beside her with a cloth in hand. She began gently dabbing at the bruises and cuts along Y/N's knees.  

Y/N hissed, flinching slightly.  

"It does look so medieval and ancient in the corridors, but so nice in the rooms… except for the throne room, which could use some cleaning up."  

Ruzelda chuckled again. "Yeah, well, Jareth likes what he likes."  

The sound of the tub filling with water echoed throughout the serene bathroom. Y/N closed her eyes as Ruzelda continued to clean her wounds. The steady sound of water filling the tub blended with the faint crackle of candlelight; it should have been relaxing. It almost was.  

Y/N closed her eyes, but her mind refused to settle. "I don't get it," she said after a moment.  

Ruzelda didn't respond right away; she continued her work and waited.  

Y/n's brows knit together as she spoke again, quieter this time. "I should be home by now."  

The words hung in the air.  

"He was supposed to… turn into that owl again. I was supposed to wake up in my room." She swallowed hard. "So why am I still here?"  

Her fingers curled slightly into the fabric beneath her. "I'm nervous," she admitted, almost under her breath. "What if hedidn't mean it?"  

"You think you're here by accident?"  

Y/n's eyes snapped open abruptly. She wanted to sit up, but her relaxed muscles betrayed her.  

"You ain't been kept," Ruzelda said. "You've been placed."  

Y/n's brows pulled tighter together, confusion flickering into something sharper. 

"That doesn't make sense. If he let me go, then why would I still be here?"

Ruzelda didn't answer right away. She moved slowly, deliberately, wringing out the cloth in her hands as if the question itself required time. 

"Letting go..." she said at last, "don't always mean what you think it does."

Y/n could feel her stomach churn; her eyebrows softened, but her face still kept its tenseness. 

"You can walk out a door and still be exactly where he wants ya."

The room fell silent, and you could hear a pin drop in the tub water.

Y/n's thoughts started scrambling, trying to place themselves together, but failing--falling apart before she could finish them.

Y/n blinked, trying to digest the words. "Chew on that thought, young lady," Ruzelda continued, pushing herself off her knees. She grabbed Y/N's hands, hoisting her up and leading her to the warm bath.

"'cause," she began, "you ain't askin' if he meant it, you is askin' why it felt like he did."

Y/N submerged herself in the tub, letting the water envelop her. The bubbles rose just above her collarbones. Warmth settled around her limbs, easing the ache in her muscles and dulling the sting of her bruises. She tipped her head back against the edge of the tub, closed her eyes, and her breath finally slowed. 

It almost felt safe. Ruzelda pulled up a stool and placed a few towels nearby for her to dry off, telling her she could stay in the bath as long as she liked. Y/N's brows drew together slightly. Her eyes opened once more, and her gaze drifted slowly around the room.

In the corner of the room, something pale hung in the distance. White fabric, soft and flowing, stood out starkly against the surroundings. She didn't move or blink; even the water seemed to be still.

The gown hung as if it had always been there, draped carefully from a carved stand near the wall. Delicate folds cascaded effortlessly, untouched and pristine, its corset-like structure intact. 

Her chest tightened. 

"...No…" she whispered, the word slipping out before she could stop it. 

She could feel it.

His hands brushing over her bare skin, his breath ghosted against her jaw as his nose traced a tantalizing line along her neck. His fingers gliding up her thigh, pausing at the curve of her hip--

Slowly, she sat up, causing the water to ripple outward.

Her eyes burned into the gown; it shouldn't be there. And yet, it seemed as though it had been waiting for her.

She turned her head slightly towards Ruzelda, who was tossing the soiled towels into a hamper. 

"Ruzelda?"

She tried to keep her voice steady.

"Is there… something else I can wear?"

For a moment, there was only the sound of water and footsteps as Ruzelda walked towards the door.

Then, she replied, "That's what was prepared for you, dear."

And with that, she was gone, the door shutting securely behind her. 

Y/n's jaw tightened, and her gaze flickered back to the dress. 

Ruzelda's words echoed in her mind: 

Y/n hit a surface with a hard clank, letting out guttural groans of agony as she pushed herself up from the rubble. The sharp edges of what felt like metal and wood, along with the deep carvings on other elements, indented her skin. She winced, finally sitting upright and scanning her surroundings.

The sky stretched above in a mournful ombre, a blend of muted browns,  greys, and deep, haunting purples. It was as if the sun was bidding a bittersweet farewell, sinking slowly beneath the horizon and disappearing into the dense, swirling coils of clouds.  Below them, the landscape was cluttered with endless piles of junk, contributing to an atmosphere thick with despair. Y/n couldn’t shake the feeling that this chaotic scene bore little resemblance to the carefully curated visuals of a film; it was raw, unsettling, and wavering on the edge of instability, invoking a somber reflection on reality.

Y/n hoisted herself onto her feet, immediately jolting at the sharp slope of the pile she stood on, giving her an unsteady gait. She shuffled her feet as she slid downward, as if skiing, and landed on a flatter surface on her knees. Picking herself up once more, she looked around, biting her lip in confusion.

“Where the hell are the gates to the city?” she questioned. All that lay ahead was the dense piles of rubble.

She forced herself forward, finding stable ground and moving down mild slopes. Unsure of where everyone was, she trusted she’d find them soon.

Approaching another mini pile, she grabbed it, only for it to wobble aggressively.

“What do you think you’re doing?” the pile spoke suddenly, moving.

Y/n backed up in surprise, her heart nearly leaping out of her chest as the pile shifted in her direction. Debris of trinkets fell and clanked to the ground. Y/n dodged a china teacup that narrowly missed hitting her head.

“The junk lady,” Y/n whispered to herself.

“Why don’t you watch where you’re going, young woman, hm?” the junk lady sneered.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, I’m just in a hurry,” Y/n replied, giving the junk lady an acknowledging nod.

“In a hurry for what?” the junk lady questioned, eyeing her suspiciously.

“To get to the Goblin City. It’s supposed to be around here somewhere,” Y/n answered almost impatiently.

“I see,” the junk lady hummed, “but people often leave things behind if they’re in such a hurry, m'dear.”

“While that may be true,” Y/n countered, “I don’t think I’m leaving anything behind.”

“People often find themselves lost when they’re in a hurry,” the junk lady argued, her voice steady as she gestured toward the scattered items around them. 

“But I’m not lost; I know where I am,” she insisted, frustration creeping into her tone as she glanced around nervously.

“Everything you need is right here, just waiting to be discovered,” she replied, a knowing smile playing on her lips as she pointed at the clutter surrounding them.

“You’re just distracting me!” she shot back, her impatience boiling over. 

The junk lady's expression hardened, though her eyes remained soft and inviting. The trinkets strapped to her back clinked as she shifted closer to Y/n, her presence overwhelming in the cluttered junkyard.

“Oh, I’m not distracting you,” she crooned, her voice a silky blend of persuasion. “I’m helping. People often forget important things in a rush and regret it later.”

Y/n felt a flicker of irritation as her jaw tightened. It seemed the junk lady was trying to exploit her vulnerability.

“Stay here for just a moment,” the junk lady continued, leaning in closer. “Rest and think. You haven’t taken a moment for yourself in ages, I’m sure, dear.”

“I can’t,” Y/n replied stubbornly, stepping past her. “Whoever I’m searching for isn’t here.”

“But look!” the junk lady urged, her hand darting behind her back to grab something from the chaos of trinkets.

“No!” Y/n exclaimed firmly, refusing to turn around. With determination, she moved deeper into the junkyard, her heart racing.

As she walked, piles of forgotten treasures collapsed behind her, the sound echoing like a dramatic conclusion. 

After what felt like an eternity, Y/n slumped against a rusted metal object, gasping for breath. She was sure the gates of Goblin City lay just beyond the labyrinth of junk, and the soft clinks of goblin trinkets filled the air. How many junk goblins lived here?

The sounds began to grow louder and more consistent, prompting Y/n to slow her pace and exercise caution.

Then a voice, gruff, carried through the junk. 

That wasn’t a junk goblin.

“Oh, don’t y'dare touch that! You tryin' to gets us killed?”

Y/n's posture snapped rigid. 

“Hoggle,” she breathed.

She surged forward, climbing the unstable slope with her muscles shaking and spasming, desperately using every fiber of her being to work her way up. Unfortunately, this climb was steeper and much more brutal than the others. The junk shifted violently beneath her weight, clattering loudly enough to make her wince. 

She finally hauled herself up and over the ridge. 

There they were. 

Hoggle stood a few paces ahead, hunched and alert. The Deer Girl was beside him, body tense, head tilted as though she were listening for something just out of reach. D/n crouched low at their feet. Something was seemingly off. 

They hadn’t seen her yet.

“Guys!” Y/n shouted, her voice echoing as she carefully navigated her way down the steep mound, her heart racing with both relief and urgency.

The trio turned towards her, their eyes widening in astonishment as they registered the sight of their long-lost friend.

“Y/n—?” Hoggle gasped, his breath hitching in disbelief as he took a step forward, half-convinced he was imagining the moment.

D/n, filled with excitement, bounded toward its friend, tail wagging furiously. Y/n knelt down, a smile breaking through her worried expression as she gently patted the creature on its head. The familiar warmth of companionship eased her tension, if only for a moment.

“I fell,” she explained quickly, urgency in her voice. “We don't have time” 

It was only then that Y/n truly took in her surroundings, her gaze darting past her friends. The atmosphere shifted, a sense of impending danger palpable in the air.

There lay the morbid gates of the Goblin City. Collapsed inward, jagged and broken, as if the city itself had bitten down too hard. A narrow bridge stretched from the rubble beneath their feet to the fractured archway, funneling the path into a tight corridor beyond. The drop below disappeared into darkness. The bridge itself seemed to stretch for miles before reaching the gates.

“I don't remember a bridge being there,” Y/n said aloud, not bothering to stop herself.

“What do you mean?” the deer girl asked irritably.

“Nothing,” Y/n replied quietly, almost to herself; she didn’t have the bandwidth to convey any strong emotion.

The deer girl’s gaze snapped past her. “Do you hear that?” 

D/n growled low in its throat.

Fear swept over the deer girl’s face as if a new expression had taken over entirely.

Hoggle swallowed hard, nearly cowarding. 

Before they could register anything else, the sound of heavy footsteps, metal dragging, and wet, hungry breathing loomed closer. 

The first of them emerged from the dark.

It was taller than Y/n by at least a head, its body thick and powerfully built, shoulders stretching beneath the dented plate of its armor. 

Its face was unmistakably goblin, but wrong in a way that made her stomach drop. The snout was blunt and pig-like, twisted slightly to one side as if broken. Its eyes sat too close together, rimmed in angry red, staring without blinking. Its few brow hairs clung beneath a rusted helmet. 

Then more figures emerged behind it; handfuls of them. 

They came in different sizes: lithe, beefy, scrawny, but they all possessed the same undeniable strength. Bodies crafted for collision and stealth rather than foolishness. The armor was mismatched and scattered, yet looked threatening; it was clear their weapons had gone through countless violent battles rather than decoration. 

“These aren’t city goblins,” Y/n whispered in terror.

“Far from it,” Hoggle quivered, taking a few steps back. 

They didn’t stop. The sounds followed them, heavy and resolute. Thunderous footsteps threatened to trigger an avalanche, metal and wood dragged ominously, and the hungry breathing grew increasingly feral as they advanced with brutal force.

Y/n felt her heart racing as she backed away toward a towering heap of debris. “Don’t let them get close!” she hissed, urgency fueling her movements. As if they telepathically communicated, the deer girl was already sprinting toward the junk pile, desperately searching for anything that could serve as a weapon.

“We need to use the piles!” the deer girl shouted.

“Exactly! Knock them off balance, fighting them head-on would be stupid!” Y/n replied, determination surging within her.

D/n lunged forward, crashing into a loose stack of scrap. The resulting cascade of metal thundered down the slope, forcing several goblins to stagger as they tried to regain their footing. The deer girl hurled a rusty bicycle at a shorter goblin, sending it tumbling to the ground, unconscious.

Hoggle, frustrated yet courageous, started flinging a wooden plank at goblins nearby, but one quickly recovered, smashing the plank with a fierce swing.

Before Hoggle could retreat in fear, Y/n grabbed a metal chair and swung it at one goblin, connecting solidly, followed by a kick that sent the second goblin stumbling backward.

“Why is this remarkably easy?” Y/n gasped, surprised by their success as goblins writhed on the ground.

She seized a weapon from a downed goblin and struck it again—twice—until it stopped moving. 

“A little help here!” the deer girl cried, surrounded by two goblins, one wielding a spiked club, the other a rusted cudgel. The deer girl fought fiercely but was being driven back.

Without thinking, Y/n charged in, grabbing a length of twisted metal. She slammed it into the knee of the nearest goblin with a sickening crack, causing it to stagger. 

Taking advantage, the deer girl kicked the other goblin, sending it crashing backward. Y/n finished off the staggered goblin, stabbing it in the neck. It limply fell to its death, a pool of  blood spilling from underneath it.  

Breathless and sweating, the two girls exchanged confused glances, both astonished by their unexpected victory.

“This is too easy,” Y/n breathed.

“Something’s up,” Deer Girl agreed. “Because I could’ve sworn I saw a goblin twice the size of everyone else.”

Y/n looked around. D/n and Hoggle panted in exhaustion, surrounded by piles of rubble atop dead goblins, blood splattered across the cobblestones. She watched the last twitching movements of the handful of goblins that had surrounded them.

“And there were definitely more of them,” Y/n concluded, furrowing her eyebrows.

The same figure from earlier stepped forward, and the ground seemed to acknowledge its presence. Its build was solid, and its movements were economical, almost calm, as if the chaos before it hadn’t merited its attention. Then another emerged beside it. And another.

The Deer Girl took a slow step back. “Those are the ones we saw before,” she whispered. “The big ones.”

“Damn! The ones we killed were bait,” Y/n hissed through gritted teeth, throwing her metal rod to the ground. 

As these “goblins” drew closer, the air shifted ominously. 

“We have to fight,” D/n declared triumphantly, wagging its tail, although its eyes betrayed a sense of defeat and exhaustion.

“Yeah, I’m afraid we have to,” Y/n said, sighing heavily.

The Deer Girl rummaged through a pile of scattered weapons and handed Y/n an axe. Hoggle, scared yet determined, took a spiky helmet from a dead goblin and shakily fastened it onto D/n's head.

“To protect ya, eh?” Hoggle said, his voice almost sad, as if it was the last time he’d see hope in the dog's eyes.

“If we die, we die with dignity and strength,” D/n said with a small nod.

Hoggle acknowledged this with a sound before grabbing a rusty club. 

The goblins charged toward them, weapons raised, and the group stood firm in their stance. Y/n felt her heart race as she tightened her grip around the axe.

“For Mom,” she whispered as she charged forward, followed by the Deer Girl and the others.

Y/n swung at the exposed belly of a goblin, cutting through its skin just before it could hit her. It let out a  groan in agony and lurched forward onto its knees, but managed to knock her off balance with a swing of its bat. Y/n fell onto her bottom but kept a tight grip on her axe. 

Another goblin loomed over her, raising its sword above its head, aimed directly at her chest. Summoning all her strength, Y/n sliced her axe through its knee, decapitating part of its lower extremity. The goblin flopped to the ground, losing its weapon in the process.

Y/n regained her footing, but so did the larger goblin. They began to swing at each other. The goblin’s attacks were wide and slow, but powerful enough that Y/n barely managed to dodge them. One wrong move, and she was certain she would lose a limb.

Hoggle crept up to the larger goblin and struck it in the calf with a pocket sword taken from an unconscious foe. Y/n’s adversary growled in pain and brutally kicked Hoggle aside.

The Deer Girl threw objects and swung her weapon, but it wasn’t enough to inflict lasting damage. The goblins just kept coming, and she was running out of options. She kicked one goblin in a vulnerable spot, causing it to guard its midsection. Seizing the moment, she bashed it on the cheek with the spiky club she held. Unfortunately, the spike cut so deep that she couldn't pull the weapon out. 

The fighting stretched on, an endless flurry of movement and noise that seemed to hold Y/n in its grip. She could feel the fatigue seeping into her muscles, each dodge and swing becoming more severe than the last. Her limbs felt heavy, nearly betraying her as she fought against the attack.

Suddenly, a thick, distorted voice resonated through the chaos, a commanding presence cutting through the battle cries.

 “Alive! The king wants them alive!” 

The urgency in the voice sent a chill down her spine, making her momentarily lose focus.

In that brief moment of distraction, a sly goblin took advantage. With a quick, vicious strike, it brought its cudgel down on the back of her leg. Agony seared through her, and she yelped, collapsing to her knees on the rough ground. Instinctively, she scrambled to rise, but before she could regain her footing, a heavy weight crashed down onto her.

The goblin she’d been wrestling with settled heavily on her back, its metallic armor digging painfully into her spine. At that instant, despair flooded through her; a feeling of utter helplessness. Two other goblins grasped her arms, yanking them away from her sides with crude force. Thick, coarse rope bit into her skin as they bound her wrists together, and she was forced to press her face into the gravel. The sharp, gritty texture scratched at her skin, and as she craned her neck, trying to catch a glimpse of her surroundings, the pressure intensified.

With each passing moment, tears pooled in her eyes and began to trickle down the bridge of her nose, a testament to the pain she was enduring. 

Nearby, D/n was literally tackled to the ground by three goblins, their small but strong bodies overwhelming it. A muzzle was forced over the snout, cutting off her cries and leaving her gasping. The sounds of her beloved companion echoed in Y/n’s ears, jolting her with horror. Still on the dirt, they inappropriately tied the dog's limbs together, its movements slowed and then halted altogether.

Hoggle, not far off, found himself caught in the headlock of a stronger and heftier goblin. With his wrists bound tightly together by a second goblin, he was released from the hold only to have tape pressed over his mouth, silent protests bubbling up from deep within him as he was forced to the ground.

The deer girl was overrun by four relentless goblins, pinning her to the ground. As she lay on her back, a sense of despair washed over her. She squeezed her eyes shut, bracing herself for what she feared would be the final, painful blow. Instead, she felt the cold bite of metal chains constricting around her wrists, further sealing her fate.

Back with Y/n, the goblin on top of her seized her chin, yanking her head up with brutal force. “This is what happens when you defy the king,” it sneered, voice dripping with malice. She could do nothing but whimper, the pain radiating through her neck.

The goblin finally released its weight from her back, forcing her upright with an abrupt tug. Y/n barely comprehended her surroundings as she stood, the goblin towering in front of her, an imposing figure. With a swift motion, it yanked on the rope binding her hands, compelling her to move forward.

Y/n attempted to take a step, but her leg buckled beneath her weight, and she stumbled, almost losing her balance. Every movement was a reminder of her injuries. The back of her shirt marred with sweat and dirt, and likely bruises, holes scarred into the fabric bearing witness to her struggle.

The goblin in front of her had its thick hands tightening  on the rope at her wrists, tugging just enough to send her jolting forward.  Pain continued to flair hot and sharp through her legs. Before she took another fall, a grip caught her shoulder, steadying her just in time. 

“Move,” a voice with hot breath muttered behind her. 

The bridge gave way to the stone streets slick with age and grime, winding inward toward the castle at the center of the labyrinth. The sound of the boots of the army and the shuffling feet of the captives moved at an uneven rhythm. Metal and chain punctured every eerie step. Y/n kept her head down at first, breath shaky and shallow, focusing only putting one foot in front of the other. 

She could feel eyes  scorching her every move, almost like it stung. 

Looking up, she couldn't help but notice the Goblins lining the cobblestone streets. Soldiers with rigid postures, guards in mismatched armor, and citizens surrounded in tattered garments. They stood half-hidden in the shadows of doorways and beneath the sagging arches of crumbling buildings, their eyes fixed on the procession that moved past them. Silence enveloped the scene; there were no jeers, no laughter, only the weight of countless eyes tracking every step, every breath. 

Some of the observers had an unsettling quality about them.They were too tall and too stiff, their features eerily human yet unsettlingly off. 

Y/n swallowed hard as her gaze fell upon hands where hooves should have been. Her heart raced as she caught a fleeting glimpse of a flowing blond horse;s mane atop a tall, lithe figure, standing unnaturally erect. The faces in the crowd were caught in a grotesque blend of shapes, quite distorted. Servants weaved through the crowd, carrying heavy baskets and clanking tools, their movements so practiced that they felt almost mechanical. Eyes trained firmly on the ground, they dared only quick glances at the procession as if lingering too long might harm them.

The Deer Girl’s breath hitched as tears threatened to spill from her eyes, blurring her vision and amplifying the heaviness in her chest. Y/n felt an overwhelming urge to warmly embrace her.

Nearby, D/n dangled over the shoulder of a Goblin a few paces behind them, unleashing a broken sound that seeped from its throat echoing the ache of loss and sorrow. Hoggle shuffled along beside her, his shoulders hunched as if bearing a weight far greater than his own. His eyes darted nervously between the Goblins and the onlooking crowd, like a trapped creature seeking a way out. When his gaze caught Y/n’s, a profound sadness deepened his expression, whispering a silent message of defeat: ‘we’ve lost.’

As they turned a corner, the imposing silhouette of the castle loomed ahead, impossibly tall and intimidating.  Somewhere deep inside the structure, a sound echoed like a heartbeat: Tick. Tick.

Y/n felt her stomach drop, churning with an unsettling mix of fear and anticipation.

They made it though the hefty mahogany gates that were attached to thick, rusty, metal chains and made their way through the stoney corridors. 

The corridors that the many captives had once walked, not knowing their fate. 

The deer girl swallowed a cry as she thought about how her mother might have been treated within these walls. 

The corridors widened, leading to the throne room. A stone conversation pit was adorned with a red rug, and a chandelier with candles hung above it, exuding an uncanny stillness. 

They were pushed forward by the goblins: Hoggle, Y/n, and the deer girl, forced onto their knees on the cold stone floor. D/n remained slung over the goblin's shoulder, and exhaustion crashed over them all at once as they finally stopped moving. 

Inside the dimly lit chamber, the air felt heavy with tension. The Goblin King lounged against his  throne. One leg draped over the armrest, he surveyed his restless goblin subjects before locking onto the girl kneeled defiantly in the center. She was meant to submit to him, to accept her fate, yet her unwavering resolve sparked his disappointment.

With a soft exhale, he spoke, his voice smooth and commanding. "You didn't reach the castle on your own," he mused, the weight of his words hanging in the air, daring someone to respond.

His voice was calm, almost bored, and it ignited a nerve within Y/n that she didn't even know she had. She shot her head up, a sudden surge of adrenaline obscuring her pain. 

"But we beat the clock," she rasped. "It's only fair—"

"You were dragged here," he cut in smoothly. 

The deer girl bristled. "So? We're still here." 

Jareth’s eyes flicked to her and then back to Y/n. 

"You didn’t win," he stated simply. "It’s as straightforward as that." 

Jareth swung his leg off the armrest and rested his elbow on it instead, sharpening his gaze.

"The labyrinth rewards intention, not circumstance." 

The weight of those words hung in the air, reminiscent of the stinging chill of an ice cube trickling down Y/n's spine. 

"Your Majesty—if I may—" Hoggle tried to interject. 

"Not now, Higgle," Jareth said dismissively with a wave of his hand. 

"You've disappointed me quite enough. Your punishment will be determined soon." 

Y/n glanced at the clock; the hour hand wasn’t even on the ten. 

The girl shifted in her spot, wincing at the stronghold of the rope. "We had fifty minutes left before ten hours—ten hours, you said! This isn’t—" Y/n croaked, fighting back a fit. 

"Fair?" Jareth echoed softly, tilting his head slightly. 

The corners of his mouth twitched with dark amusement. 

"Mortals and this 'fair' rubbish," he nearly chuckled. "Time is a courtesy, and I am no longer inclined to extend it." 

A heavy silence fell over the room at the final verdict, an oppressive weight pressing down on y/n. She lowered her gaze in defeat, tears threatening to spill from her eyes.

 In that moment of vulnerability, she felt exposed before the one person she had tried so hard to keep away. She couldn’t let him witness her pain; that would be far worse than concealing how she truly felt. With all her strength, she buried her emotions deep inside, determined to maintain her façade of strength.

"Unbind them," Jareth commanded, his authoritative tone slicing through the tense air.

In an instant, the ropes binding Y/n's wrists fell away, leaving her hands resting limply in her lap. The relief of freedom was overshadowed by a deep torrent of guilt and sorrow for her mother. Despite being free from her restraints, she remained still, paralyzed by the weight of anxiety.

"I am sparing you all punishment." 

His words settled heavily, carrying an unsettling undertone that sent a ripple of unease through the group. The goblins exchanged confused glances, unsure of what would come next.

"Detain them," Jareth ordered.

His gaze locked onto Y/n's, and for a brief moment, the air seemed to hum with tension. "Together," he added, his voice steady yet enigmatic.

Jareth’s expression remained firm and unchanged, the kind of calmness that often threw others off balance. Nonetheless, his eyes locked onto hers with a depth that spoke volumes;  an intensity  present, a subtle blend of emotions that rocked on the edge of comprehension. It was as though a world of unspoken thoughts swirled behind his gaze.

They were shoved into a low, circular chamber carved deep into the castle’s foundation. The door closed behind them with a dull finality.

There were no restraints now, no guards inside—just stone walls, stale air, and the low mournful goran of disappointment that contaminated the air like death. 

In an instant, a wave of relief washed over the room, causing everyone to slump back against the walls, their bodies sagging in exhaustion. D/n, feeling the weight of the moment, crawled into Y/n’s lap, seeking comfort and ease. Y/n wrapped her arms around her friend, gently stroking D/n's hair as she cradled her friend with tender affection. With her eyes closed tight, Y/n took a deep, shuddering breath, allowing the pent-up emotions to finally break free. Silent tears streamed down her cheeks, a quiet release of the turmoil they had all endured.

“We’re alive,” the deer girl breathed in disbelief, her body shaking as she shifted to get comfortable.

“For now,” Hoggle replied, taking a deep shuddering breath.

“You're right; I’m still scared. What if that wretched king turns us into goblins? I can’t afford to look ugly!” the deer girl said frantically in a hushed tone.

“He wouldn't,” Y/n answered, wiping her tears away. 

The deer girl scrunched her nose. “And how do you know that?”

Y/n shook her head. “That doesn't matter. We need to get out of here.” 

The deer girl gaped at her and pointed an accusing finger. “You’re hiding something!” she exclaimed a bit too loudly.

"Shhh!" They all hushed her.

“I’m not hiding anything!” Y/n protested quietly.

Hoggle quivered, “How are we going to get out of here?”

Silence fell among the group as they contemplated their escape plan, woven with uncertainty and anticipation that gnawed at the walls.

As if an unseen force urged her onward, Y/n gently set D/n aside and maneuvered her way across the floor towards the small door nestled in the corner. There, a goblin stood watch, its beady eyes glinting with a mix of curiosity and caution. With a firm knock that echoed in the stillness, Y/n drew the creature's attention. It turned to face her, its small frame appearing both fragile and intimidating in the dim light, an odd juxtaposition that made Y/n's heart race.

“I wish to see the king. I’ve made my decision,” she declared.

The goblin's posture snapped erect, its beady eyes glanced around cautiously, finally nodding in agreement. After all, it would be absurd for a goblin of the underground to turn down the term “I wish."

With a swift, decisive motion, she rose to her full height, her gaze locking onto the goblin before her. He was, thankfully, miniature, his grotesque features twisted in confusion. 

Without a moment's hesitation, she grasped his head firmly and, with a quick, practiced twist, snapped it violently. He crumpled to the ground like a rag doll, his body lifeless against the stone floor.

Turning her attention to her friend, she noted the shock etched on their faces, eyes wide in disbelief.

“Yous just killed a goblin with ya own hands like that?” Hoggle marveled. 

“Not my first time. Come on.” Y/n answered, extending her hands to the deer girl, helping her back to her feet and pulling her from the cramped nook they had been in.

The group shuffled back toward the throne room, their path illuminated by the flickering flames of torches lining the corridor. The walls alternated between dark, narrow passages and broad, large spaces, creating a disorienting maze that echoed their footsteps.

Once reaching the grand entrance of the throne room, they found it eerily empty, the air still and heavy with anticipation. 

“We should split up into pairs and search the castle for our mothers,” the deer girl suggested, her voice tinged with hope. 

Y/n’s gaze hardened, and she quickly shook her head. “I need to face the king alone first.”

The deer girl’s brow furrowed in confusion. “But why? What is your obsession with that tyrant?”

“Mind your own business,” Y/n snapped back, her tone sharper than intended. The deer girl's body flinched at the sudden change in tone and guilt immediately rose in Y/n's stomach. 

Hoggle, keenly aware of the history that lingered in this place, chimed in, “Because that’s how it’s done,” recalling Sarah’s words from this very spot, words that held a certain weight.

D/n added with concern, “When you’re finished with him, we’ll be here.”

Y/n met their gazes with a firm resolve. “No, look for our moms.” 

Determined, she marched toward the narrow staircase that spiraled upwards from the throne room, where Sarah had once fled. 

This time, however, as she ascended, she braced herself, knowing she would not be greeted by the shifting chaos of an Escher room…

The room opened before her like a grand, circular hollow, beautifully sculpted from the cold stone of the castle. At its heart sat a sunken floor, smooth and unadorned, reminiscent of the center of a long-forgotten arena with a modern edge. Gracefully ascending stone seating surrounded the central stage, creating a warm embrace around this vast space. There were no colorful banners fluttering in the still air, no torches casting flickering shadows. Instead, a soft, pale light filtered through unseen openings above, gently illuminating the chamber’s walls with an inviting touch.

Standing alone upon the central floor, Y/n became a beacon of light, as if she were a performer stepping into a moment of vulnerability. The emptiness of the room wrapped around her, amplifying a sense of isolation. The space felt far more constricting, with archways scattered around in multiple parts of the room.

A wave of humility washed over her, intensifying her feelings of solitude. Every shift in her stance caused her footsteps to echo sharply, the sounds reverberating up the curved walls as if the chamber itself were absorbing the rhythm of her movement. Yet, inspired by an unyielding desire to ascend, Y/n sprang into action, racing toward the nearest step. Doubts swirled in her mind about her destination, but an inner fire fueled her determination to rise higher.

“Throwing a show for me already, my dear performer ?” A smooth, captivating voice filled the vast space enveloping her senses entirely. 

In an instant, Y/n's awareness sharpened, and she swiftly scanned her surroundings for the source of the voice.

There, perched comfortably on a higher ledge of the arena-like room, was Jareth. He dangled his legs over the edge, leaning forward with an amused curiosity as he studied her. The dim light pooled around him, creating a perplexing aura. Shadows danced across his sharp jawline, enhancing the striking angles of his owl-like eyes. The gentle luminance highlighted the outlines of his physique, highlighting the defined lines of his chest and the subtle curve of his abdomen. His pendant rested against his sternum, catching the light just enough to draw the eye.

“Please, give me my mother,” Y/n managed to say, her voice steady despite the mix of embarrassment at how long she'd been staring. She stepped forward with purpose, bounding up the rows as she carefully considered each movement, determined to maintain her balance.

“Does my generosity not meet your expectations?” Jareth teased, a playful glint in his eye. His gaze followed her movements like a hawk meticulously observing its target, perfectly attuned to the sound of her footsteps and the rhythm of her breath as she sought to close the distance between them.

Y/n’s eyes flicked from the stairs back to Jareth, her brow furrowing in confusion. He seemed to have positioned himself even further away. Was it the dimness of the room playing tricks on her?

“If by ‘generous’ you mean doing the bare minimum to spare my friends and me, then no, it doesn't,” she retorted, frustration bubbling up. 

“Hm, I see,” Jareth replied casually, an air of nonchalance in his tone. He stood up and walked through a small archway, and her determination surged. If he thought she would retreat easily, he was mistaken.

A thick silence enveloped the chamber for a brief moment before his voice echoed once more, now closer than before. Turning around, Y/n saw that Jareth had moved to yet another part of the room, lower than he'd been. With renewed determination, she focused on moving down the stairs, intent on meeting him where he stood.

Each step brought a mix of anticipation and resolve, awakening a false sense of hope within her.

“I’ve been generous in more ways than one, including now,” Jareth said, smugness gracing his lips.

Y/n halted, hands on her hips, her posture exuding defiance as she shifted her weight to one leg. Jareth observed her like a challenge, amusement dancing in his eyes.

“Making this difficult is not generous,” she shot back, irritation bubbling in her throat.

“I’m making this difficult?” Jareth scoffed, disbelief in his tone at the girl's ignorance.

Y/n pressed onward, each step a struggle as she sought to close the distance. Jareth remained unmoved, arms crossed, his nonchalance infuriating. 

With a sigh, he turned away, as if deep in thought, then shot her a teasing glance. “Ah yes, I’m making this very difficult,” he muttered sarcastically.

As they stepped through dark archways, they found themselves at the center of a vast arena like ancient foes poised for battle. An invisible thread pulled them closer, each step scorching hot with anticipation.

“This could all be resolved with one choice, really,” Jareth suggested casually.

Y/n narrowed her eyes. “Choice? I’ve made enough choices today!” she protested, refusing to back down.

Jareth moved closer, circling her slowly, eyes locked onto hers, the world around them fading into the background.

“You're trying to prove yourself again,” he began.

“So are you,” Y/n retorted.

A moment passed, and Jareh's expression sharpened, clearly agitated. He shifted on his foot, circling her more intensely, like a hawk eyeing its prey.

“You craved resistance, I gave it. You demanded your mother be safe, I granted it. You hated being spared, treated like a child, so I raised the stakes.”

The exhausted king stepped closer, and Y/n could feel his breath brush against her face. It was comforting, like a spring breeze.

“I bent to your very will. Isn't that generous?” His voice was low and intimate.

“Ja—” she almost said, but clearing her throat, she spit out, “Your Majesty,” trying not to tear her eyes away from him. She could see his expression falter.

“You're ‘generous’ to those you want to be seen and chosen by,” she said, feeling her pulse lodge in her throat.

Jareth swallowed, anticipating another word from her.

“You are the labyrinth.”

Jareth leaned back slightly, studying her carefully.

“You think understanding something gives you power over it—it doesn’t,” he said, yet he inched closer.

Y/n shook her head. “I’m not trying to have power over you. That's not the lesson this time.”

Jareth raised an eyebrow, curiosity blending with concern as he studied her face closely, searching for any hint of wavering in her expression.

“You demand so much,” he murmured quietly, almost to himself, as he continued to observe her.

He remained unmoved where he stood, captivated by Y/n’s unwavering stride and determined demeanor. Yet, he couldn't help but notice the tenderness in her eyes and the slight tremor of her lips, hinting at her effort to maintain composure. Her breaths were deep and deliberate, and the sweat that glistened on her skin reflected the sunlight beautifully giving her a dewy effect. The way her eyes shimmered only added to the intensity of the moment. His focus dropped to her hands, the red marks on her wrists told the story of her struggle, and her palms bore signs of resilience from her day’s efforts, making his stomach churn. The rasp and unsteadiness in her voice only fueled his admiration. Standing witness to her strength in this moment was genuinely captivating, his heart raced as he found her vulnerability utterly enchanting.

“Say the word,” he began earnestly, “and this place kneels. Time will bend. Even I will bend.”

Y/n could feel the subtle urgency in his voice, despite its slow and silky tone.  

“No need to prove anything. Just stay.” He offered.

“Stay and let every lesson I have ever learned go down the drain? Are you kidding me?” she scoffed, shaking her head in disbelief.

Jareth’s expression felt serious. “I've given you countless chances to choose me.”

He now stood close, his hands sliding to her waist gently, almost cautiously–a blend of care and hesitation.

“And you're still standing here, pretending you don't feel it.”

His gaze drifted to her lips, “So cruel,” he drawled, his thumbs massaged her waist momentarily before stopping.

At that moment, Y/n’s gaze faltered, drifting away from him as she fought an internal battle between the urge to push him away and the desire to remain close. Her hands, trembling with uncertainty, refused to make contact with his warmth; instead, they were folded tightly against her chest, her knuckles barely brushing against her chin. When she finally summoned the courage to meet his intense gaze again, her heartbeat quickened. Swallowing left her throat feeling dry and scratchy like sandpaper.

His fingers barely tightened their grip on her waist, and he leaned in close, barely brushing his lips against her ear. A shiver coursed through her body at the sensation of his breath against her.

“I can relieve you of this burden,” he murmured.

Jareth pulled back, his gaze locking onto hers with an intensity that seemed to peel back her layers, searching for any sign that she might be contemplating his proposal. 

With a flick of his wrist, a shimmering crystal ball materialized in his hand, glowing with an ethereal light.

“Fear me if you must, hate me if it helps. But stay. Let me rule you."

Y/n’s eyes darted to the side, realization dawning heavy on her. She exhaled deeply and returned her gaze to his, mentally praying her response would follow through successfully. 

“If I stay, it won’t be because of your flattering words. I refuse to be treated like a mere subject,” she declared, feeling the undeniable weight of his intimate presence enveloping her.

Jareth’s expression tightened, a mask of restraint settling over him as he braced himself for her next words.

Lowering her head slightly, she took a calming breath, her hands that had once crossed her chest now dangling helplessly at her sides. A desperate urge to flee surged within her.

“But…” she hesitated, her voice nearly convulsing, “I won’t walk away completely.” 

With another fluid flick of his wrist, the crystal ball vanished back into thin air.

“You refuse to kneel,” he stated, pausing to smirk, “Very well.”

He straightened up, his composure shifting as he regarded her anew.

“Stay then, as my equal, and see how much you endure,” he challenged.

Y/n bristled at his words, irritation flaring in her eyes. “I’m not afraid of you.”

“You’ve made that abundantly clear,” Jareth replied dryly, a hint of boredom creeping into his tone as he grew weary of her stubborn refusal to surrender her vulnerability.

“I’m afraid of wanting you.”

The admission tumbled from her lips, a confession that hung heavily in the air, igniting a flicker of awkwardness within her-- she forced herself not to recoil at her words. Yet she was exhausted from the persistent battle of wills between them.

A thick silence enveloped the room, the weight of her words vibrating like a sorcery that had just shattered a spell. Jareth’s expression shifted, an unpredictable range of emotions flickered across his features.

Compelled by a newfound will, she cautiously inched closer to him, her eyes locking onto his before flicking to his slightly parted lips; inviting yet dangerous. With trembling hands, she cupped his face, feeling the warmth radiate from him. Jareth instinctively raised his hands once more, his fingers ghosting over her waist, awaiting her next move.

Closing her eyes, she tilted her head, daring to press her lips to his softly. Time stood still as they lingered in that moment, his closed eyes revealing the depths of emotion swirling within him. His hands made contact with her waist, instinctively pulling her closer, crushing their bodies together until their lips melded perfectly, like two fragmented pieces of a puzzle finally finding their home.

Y/n's body began to pulsate around her abdomen and lower midsection, pulling her irresistibly closer to him, as if their already tantalizing proximity wasn’t enough. She suppressed a moan, fiercely determined not to let the moment consume her. Yet, with the king's hands fervently gripping her waist, a stimulating heat surged through her, making it harder to maintain her composure. 

Y/n abruptly pulled back, searching his eyes, trying to grasp the unspoken moment between them.

“I don’t think I can stay in the underground, Jareth,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

The warmth in Jareth’s gaze turned cold, longing evident as he took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling with unspoken desire.

“I’m going to college. I have dreams, a career I want to pursue...there's so much I want to achieve.”

Saying those words felt like a dagger, twisting painfully in her throat as she witnessed a mysterious flicker shadowing his expression.

He stepped away, creating a chasm that amplified the silence between them. The room seemed to exhale, as if holding its breath had become a collective act of waiting. The labyrinth was listening.

“Then go,” he commanded gently, yet with the firmness of a king.

Y/n's breath caught in her throat, startled by the composure wrapped in his words.

“Become everything you intend to become,” he added, his gaze sharp and unyielding.

With her heart pounding, she stepped past him, collapsing inward from the weight of his presence like prey edging away from a predatory gaze, her spine rigid as she approached the archway from which she had entered. 

“Are you—” she stumbled over her own words, uncertainty gnawing at her.

“Go on,” he urged, his voice thick with a mix of helplessness and resolve as he remained anchored at the center of the room.

Fighting against the urge to linger and ask another question, something in the king's stance warned her not to venture forth in this exchange.  

She turned her back and fled through the archway, her heart racing, disappearing into the dark.

“You think leaving makes this end” Jareth murmured, his voice laced with a cutting edge that felt threatening. 

The trio turned around in the direction of the voice.

Deep from within the lush green bushes emerged an unexpected figure.

A girl who looked Y/n’s age, deer ears crowned her head, flickering with restless energy. The beige bridge of her button nose was flecked with fine white speckles, softening the sharp line of her snout. Her eyes looked as if they could hold the whole galaxy, wide and luminous, their doe-brown depths fringed with lashes as voluminous as shadows.

Her skin was a deep ebony, smooth as polished wood. Chestnut-brown hair flowed beautifully down her lithe waist to her hips. 

She was beautiful. 

But first and foremost , she wasn’t very happy. 

“And you are…?” Hoggle questioned, with a quirk of a brow. 

“I don’t own a name, but I do own this boat.” The girl snapped, her words as sharp as shards of glass. She strode toward them, each step measured, as if the mossy earth itself parted for her feet. Her off-the-shoulder, long-sleeved white dress billowed dramatically, sleeves clouding around her arms, the fabric trailing behind her like a spill of milk. The air was still, yet the low dress moved with a mind of  its own.

“We didn’t know this was your boat,” Y/n replied.

“Fair,  but now you do, so please be on your way.” The deer girl retorted. 

One thing about Y/n is that she’ll always talk back. 

“No need to be rude,” she began a sour expression on her face, “it’s distasteful and rubs people the wrong way. We’ve been traveling on foot for seven hours without any rest, and we’re relieved to find another means of transportation, that’s all.”

The deer girl studied Y/n up and down, noticing her glowing face from the damp of sweat. She didn’t smell, but  she scrunched her nose, which also twitched.

“I can tell.” She snorted, earning a deeper sour expression from Y/n.

“Anywho, where are you off to?” She asked, 

“To the Goblin King's castle, he took my mom.”

The deer girl's eyebrows rose, merely surprised.

“No way, you wished your own mother away?”

“It was an accident.” Y/n defended, a bit annoyed. 

“And she vanished just like that, huh.” The deer girl probed

Y/n nodded solemnly, “Yeah, and we have just under four hours to save her.” 

The deer girl nodded, averting her gaze momentarily as her once-erect ears lowered. Her lashes were so long that one wouldn’t notice the slight guilt in her eyes.

Her breath shook quietly, before she looked at all three of them, in mustered up confidence. The trees seemed to have held their breath, waiting for a truth. 

“I would like to come with you.” She said, finally. 

All three of them were taken aback by her response. 

“But..why?” Hoggle asked, for it was the  question everyone else wanted to ask. 

“I’ll explain it on the way. I’ll help you push the boat.” She rushed, striding towards the boat between Y/n and Hoggle, who also immediately rushed back into the potion, and they pushed the boat into the stream, immediately jumping in. 

Y/n didn’t see the issue with having a new addition to the group; every encounter Sarah had eventually became a friendship. What would make this journey any different?

“Let’s each row,” Y/n said, handing an oar to the deer girl, who obliged immediately. And they started gliding the oar paddles into the translucent water, which was still catching ripples of light at each stroke. 

The water was glass-smooth, reflecting the lush green trees above in shifting shards of emerald and gold. Each soft yet brisk dip of the oars sent delicate ripples skating outward. A gentle breeze carried the scent of moss and river reeds as they drifted onward.

“So, while we’re here, let’s exchange proper introductions,” Y/n suggested, still focused on her rowing and the path ahead. 

“I told you before, I don’t have a name.” The deer girl huffed. 

“Oh, I thought you were just being a smartass, my apologies,” Y/n replied dryly. 

“And what’s your name, girl?”

Y/n closed her eyes momentarily,  mildly irritated at her condescending tone. 

“Y/n.” She said flatly, not bothering to look at her. 

“And you?” She turned to Hoggle.

“I’m Hoggle.” 

Her gaze turned to D/n, “and aren’t you a cute thing.” She imputed observantly. 

“D/n.” It said with a small wag of the tail. 

“So, explain why you wanted to join us.” Y/n chimed in. The question had been itching at her since they started. 

The deer girl’s rowing steadied; she took a breath, nearly hesitant. 

“I don’t wish to dump on all of you.” She said. 

Y/n’s patience was getting short, but her steady voice remained, “Realistically, the likelihood of us seeing each other again after this journey is low, so why not drop the lore during the leisure moment?”

The deer girl took Y/n’s words into consideration, finally speaking without a second thought. 

“Well, if you must know, it’s a very uncomfortable truth.” She shifted uncomfortably in her spot on the wooden seat, her hands slightly trembling around the wooden oar, hindering her rowing. 

“We can handle it,” Y/n replied, recalling all the mess they've encountered already.

The deer girl cleared her throat, “Are you from the aboveground?”

“Yeah, I’m a human,” Y/n replied.

“How old?”

“Eighteen, I’ll be nineteen very soon, though.”

“Ah, this was well before your time,” the deer girl sighed, her head turned to Hoggle, with softness in her eyes, “but I assume you know of this already once I tell it.”

Hoggle nodded, “Well, go on,” he urged. 

“I’ve never been beyond this forest, so everything I’ve heard is word of mouth.” The deer girl said.

“I was told we’ve had many humans run this ‘labyrinth’, or so I’ve heard. But there was this particular time, where this girl beat the Labyrinth–some girl who ate a peach and forgot everything.”

Everyone in the boat seemed to still; even Hoggle gripped the edge of the boat, his breathing suddenly becoming shallow. 

Y/n’s grip tightened on the oar, her gaze shifted to the deer girl next to her momentarily.

“Anyway, once the girl left for good, the underground became a shadow of its former self, like the king was letting it rot from the inside out.”

A shiver went up Y/n’s spine. She took note of the entrance of the labyrinth, how different, morbid, eerie–almost demonic looking it was in contrast to the movie. 

“Before the girl took back what she wanted— they said it was a baby— she had to fight alongside a few friends against Goblins who were trying to prevent them from reaching the castle. But many were wiped out.”

Images of Sarah, Ludo, and Goblins being stampeded by the rocks flooded Y/n’s mind in memory; she swallowed hard. 

“A while later, after the challenge was defeated, the king became restless, almost driven to the point of insanity. He noted how very little Goblins were in the city and tending to his needs. So–” her breath caught in her throat, as if stifling back a small sob. 

Hoggle lowered his head, his chest heaving deeply in remorse. 

“He took one of his strongest and scariest goblins, twice the size of your average ones,” Her voice threatened to break,“and went out beyond the Goblin City and seized anyone they could find to change into goblins”

Y/n’s heart sank to her chest. “The hell?” she said, clearly shaken yet repulsed. 

“Allegedly, he told them to go to the most “peaceful” parts of the underground.” The deer girl added.

“So, he wanted to disrupt the peace because he himself had none,” Y/n concluded, almost to herself. 

The deer girl nodded, letting out another shaky breath. Her rowing deepened, losing its softness. 

“He’s so cruel; his wretched goblins slaughtered my father because he resisted...and took my mother.” Her voice dripped with bitterness.

Y/n grimaced, opening her mouth to say something, but no words came out.

“He turned all the captives into goblins to be his slaves. But rumor has it that a good portion of the goblins–his army– are worse and far more bloodthirsty than the army before.”

Y/n muttered a quiet curse, her strokes faltering as a wild, thorny tangle of dread and anger twisted in her gut. Even the water seemed to shudder, the golden ripples fading into dull, uneasy shadows. The goblins she’d faced at home were nothing compared to whatever horrors lurked at those palace walls.

Clearing her throat and straightening her posture, the deer girl finished her morbid tale. “From then on out, no one outside of the Goblin city and its labyrinth is allowed in unless accompanied by a human, because he thought the girl would venture the labyrinth again and return with new friends.”

Y/n furrowed her eyebrows, “But that doesn't make sense, he knows who makes the wishes and who runs the labyrinth.”

“Ah, but when the girl took back her power, he was shunned from her entirely, leaving his power in her hands if she were to ever run it again. Meaning, she could run it without his knowledge and return suddenly like a thief in the night.”

Y/n shook her head, "That's genuinely the stupidest take I’ve ever heard.”

The deer girl nodded, “It is, but people do ridiculous things when sickly in love,” she caught a beat , “Well, I was told he was in love with her.”

Hoggle shook his head, “Jareth ain’t love Sarah, he wanted to hurt the little lady.”

The deer girl’s ears perked up; she turned her attention to Hoggle once again.

“You know her personally?”

“I ran the labyrinth with her.” Hoggle pointed to himself almost proudly. 

The deer girl turned to Y/n, with a tense expression, “Did you know this?”

Y/n nodded, “I did, but I didn’t know of anything that was just said.” She turned to Hoggle, giving him a mild glare. 

Hoggle swallowed and looked down in guilt. 

“He probably had my mother beat, bloodied, and dead by now; this may be a dead journey.” The deer girl sighed, her rowing slowed as well, and any ounce of hope was wrung from her being. 

D/n nodded,  letting out a whimper, “M/n might be bloodied and tortured as well.”

Y/n shook her head, dismissing the thought, “Jareth tortures psychologically, not physically. She's safe–– they both likely are, but probably uncomfortable.”

The deer girl lets out a low gruff, “You speak of him as if you know him personally.” 

Heat rose in Y/n’s stomach. Flustered, she forgot the gravity of her words.

“I mean, I’ve watched the movie and read the book.”

“A little too well,” D/n responded, tinged with suspicion.

The deer girl gave an almost amused expression.

“Relax,” Y/n muttered.

“There’s a book about this? And what on earth is a “movie”?” The deer girl questioned. 

“Man, you’d have a ball on planet earth,” Y/n said, the corners of her mouth twitching. 

“I’ve been waiting for a human to come this way for what feels like eons,” she and Y/n instinctively looked at each other.

“It looks as though you and I have the same mission.”

It hasn't  been too long a moment with chatter and rowing until the forest started closing in. Slowly, fewer birds sang, the presence of butterflies and moths dwindled, leaving an echoing silence. 

Heavy fog, thick as wool, clung low to the earth—no ethereal mist here, just a suffocating blanket that blurred the world to dirty gray.

Black, fat dragonflies buzzed in lazy, drunken loops, their wings void of their iridescent hues, their bodies bloated. Some landed  on reeds and logs that appeared to be decaying. 

The scenery progressively worsened, swamp water oozed between tangled roots, the ground slick with mud and dotted with stagnant, bubbling pools.  Cobwebs stretched between branches of low-hanging trees. The air was choked with the scent of an indescribable decay. 

The four of them start to feel unsettled.

“Oh no,” Hoggle said in doom, looking around hurriedly, “will you guys hurry up the rowing, eh?”

“We’re doing our best, Hoggle.” Deer girl snapped, her nerves also pinched

“By all means, Hoggle, you can row,” Y/n said , she was doing her best not to let anything get to her

“I ain't ever liked this part of the Labyrinth,”Hoggle said

“Are we even in the labyrinth anymore?” Y/n scoffed dryly 

“Oh, I don’t know, the underground is a whole mess.” Hoggle huffed in surrender 

“I’ve never been in this part of the forest before…we haven't turned or anything.” The deer girl pointed out.

“You can't even see the castle anymore, it's so foggy,” Y/n replied, driving her oar into the water, flexing her arms to lift it again, only to realize it’s stuck. 

“What–” she grumbled, wrestling with it. After a few tugs, she stood up, putting one foot on the edge of the boat, attempting to pry her oar out. 

The deer girl also stopped, “What’s going on?” She let go of her oar to inspect what Y/n was up to, leaning over, “Oh goodness, it’s stuck!”

The two girls put their arms on the oar and tried to pull it out, only to be welcomed by an orchestra of belching and squelching, with very little progress. 

Y/n immediately stopped, her eyes wide, brows tightened, her grip on the oar completely loosened. 

“Deer girl, your oar is sinking into the water!” D/n cried out, looking over the edge of the boat.

The deer girl rushed over to her side and grabbed her oar, attempting to pull it out, only for it to sink completely under the thick liquid. Accompanied by yet another belching noise. 

“I know that sound all too well…”  Hoggle dreaded, suddenly jumping to his feet.

Despite the thickness of the swampy waters, the boat continued to move, its oars completely submerged. Y/n starred in horror, knowing exactly what Hoggle was implying.

Y/n paring her lips, the words flowing out of her mouth like pulling teeth.  

“The Bog of eternal stench.” 

Back at the castle at the center of the labyrinth, Ruzelda and M/n finished their crocheted handkerchiefs, the soft yarn still warm from their hands.

Ruzelda tucked the last ball of yarn into a brown woven basket at her side. Her wrinkled hand rested gently on M/n’s arm, her touch familiar and steady.

“Ah, let us take a bit of a break–ah–help me with the dishes!”

M/n nodded, anything to get her away from Jareth, who was currently exchanging unknown orders with a goblin. 

They strode through the castle’s narrow corridors, their footsteps echoing off stone walls. At a bend where the passage widened, they approached an old wooden door, its surface scarred and already halfway ajar. Ruzelda pushed it open, and the hinges groaned in protest.

The kitchen’s rough-hewn stone walls were uneven and dark, but warmth still lingered within, helped by a built-in hearth where a blackened cauldron hung quietly over ashes.

A thick wooden beam, heavy with age, was lined with hooks where pans and dented kitchen tools hung in crooked rows. A deep-set window with leaded panes filtered in the smoggy daylight, illuminating the chipped sink below.

A sturdy worktable stood in the center, cluttered with mixing bowls, earthen containers, and a loaf of bread still warm from the hearth. The flagstone floor was cool and uneven beneath their feet.

They walked to the sink by the window, where streaks of grime traced the glass and drips of water marked the basin’s worn surface.

M/n peered out the window as Ruzelda turned on the tap. Her heart tightened, a heavy feeling settling in her chest as she stared at the smoggy, gray world beyond.

“How would anyone live in a place like this?” she breathed, her face tense. 

“It gets some getting used to, it’s been like this for decades around the goblin city,” Ruzelda said, grabbing a plate and scrubbing it with soap. She handed another plate to M/n, who snapped back into focus and aided in the dishes.

“So there hasn't been an ounce of sunlight for decades?” M/n clarified scrubbing a dirty dish.

“That’s right, but this is only the goblin city. The underground has its pretty parts,” Ruzelda affirmed.

“That's strange, so it's only dark and dingy here, but everywhere else is fine?” M/n  clarified as if there was  a bad taste in her mouth. 

“Eh, well, I haven't been beyond the palace walls in a long time, so I couldn't tell ya,” she put a dried bowl on the side, “but I do remember it being so beautiful.”

“I see,” M/n nodded, taking the spoon and drenching it in soap, “was the goblin city once beautiful?”

“It looked a lot more pleasant than this, I’ll tell ya that, dear.” Ruzelda chuckled. 

“And you haven't tried moving out?” M/n questioned.

“Silly wee girl, y'know I can’t, I is eternally bind to his majesty as an eternal servant.”

“Sounds miserable,” she muttered sourly, gripping the spoon tighter and scratching at its surface through the drying cloth, her knuckles more prominent as bouts of rage coursed through her veins. 

Suddenly, with trembling lips, she slammed the fork down against the wooden table. 

“I don’t like this king one bit,” she spat, “he has a terrible nature and a rotten heart.”

Ruzelda stopped her task abruptly, looking up at M/n, “My dear Mrs. L/n, take heart! You’re just worried about ya daughter being out there.”

“I’m not just worried,” M/n swallowed back a sob, “I’m scared, Ruzelda.”

Ruzelda sighed, “I wish there was something to be done, but only his majesty has a say about the rules of the labyrinth.”

“Will she die?” M/n blurted with a sniffle. 

Ruzelda closed her eyes, “Then there would be no point in playing the game, eh?”

M/n exhaled, trying to soothe herself, “You’re right, she’s safe–alive! Definitely exhausted, but I know my daughter.”

“Also,” Ruzelda began leaning in with a mischievous twinkle in her eye that M/n was sure not to miss once she looked down at her. 

“His majesty tries to be all big and bad,” she covered her mouth suppressing a giggle, “but that boy's a big softie.” 

M/n scoffs, turning her attention back to another dirty dish to attend to.  “There’s nothing soft about taking people’s loved ones away.” 

Ruzelda sighed, picking up a dirty fork,  “no there isn’t…”

“It must be awful working for him.” M/n pointed out with a disapproving shake of her head. 

Ruzelda sighed, “M’dear, I is still alive and well, so it ain't so bad.”

M/n shrugged, “I guess.”

There was a brief silence, only the sound of water rushing and cloth against ceramic. 

“You must’ve done somethin’ to upset her little lady running the labyrinth.”

“I don’t know what I did,” M/n sighed, “this conflict has been eating at me since I came here.”

“She didn' t wish you away for nothin’, Mrs. L/n.”

M/n swallowed hard, “I-I know, but I’m not sure what I did wrong.”

Ruzelda stacked another dry plate on top of another, “M’dear, being a mother can be so overbearing that we don’t realize it affects our offspring.”

“I don’t see motherhood as overbearing. I loved raising Y/n.” There was a tinge of defensiveness in M/n’s voice. 

Ruzelda turned off the sink. “But did she love being raised by you?”

“I don’t think she hates it, but a girl her age is prone to rebellion that should be handled.”

“How old is the little lady?” Ruzelda asked. 

“Eighteen, she’s close to being nineteen.”

Ruzelda nodded, “ah yes, makes sense.”

“It doesn’t. A lady who is going into adulthood should know better than to act the way she does at times.” M/n said, shaking her head disapprovingly as she put the last dry dish to the side. 

“She’s still young,” Ruzelda coaxed, “Give her time.”

M/n fell silent, her composure softening, looking at the neat stacks of bowls, plates, and spoons she had just dried.  

“Time.” She whispered to herself.

Time.

With every inch the boat moved, the odor thickened, curling around the air like an insufferable 

“Ohh-!” Y/n groaned, retching and covering her nose with both her hands. 

The deer girl started cursing sporadically, as if it would repel the foul air.

D/n buried its face into its paws, whimpering.

Hoggle clamped his nose shut, groaning in misery with every breath.

The fog began to lift, yet the trees drooped so heavily overhead that the castle’s highest spire vanished from sight.

The water, once nearly still, started to creep wth unknown purpose, nudging the boat sideways inch by inch as if an unseen elbow was nudging them off course.

“Uh…guys?” Y/n said carefully, dread settling in her stomach.

A heavy sense of doom swept over the bog, pressing down on them and the swamp alike.

“Oh no,” hoggle whispered hoarsely, “No, no, no—don’t let it take us sideways...!”

The boat lurched abruptly, turning slightly on its own as the water gurgled and belched below them.

The deer girl doubled over, and a series of retches escaped her.

Y/n recoiled, “If you’re gonna puke, do it over the boat!”

“I-I don't need to puke!” The deer girl helplessly choked out.

The water continued its wet sounds, stench bubbles arising to its surface. 

Y/n grabbed the edge of the boat, fighting the rising panic, “Okay, let's steer out using our body weight if we can.”

Battling waves of nausea, they all heaved themselves to the left, knuckles white as they tried to force the boat in their chosen direction.

That was until a branch suddenly smacked Hoggle in the face. 

"Thank God," Y/n sighed in relief, barely noticing Hoggle’s resentful grumbling.

A thick, sturdy branch drooped over the water like a lifeline. 

Y/n and the deer girl clung to it desperately.

The deer girl glanced upward, her doe eyes brightening at the sight of a tangled canopy of vines and sturdy branches just at the peak of the branch.

"Hold tight, I have an idea," the deer girl declared, springing up and nimbly climbing the end of the branch. Y/n caught sight of her white, fluffy tail poking from her dress and couldn’t help but smile.

Who knew deer people could climb?

Perched atop the branch, the deer girl scanned the tangled canopy. A line of vines and branches seemed to form a path toward a distant patch of dry land—if only she could reach it.

Using all her might to reach over, she took one of the vines and yanked it down. It hung low, eventually touching the bottom of the boat.

“Use the vine to pull the boat along!” the deer girl called from above.

She swung from vine to vine, letting down one after another, until a whole row of dangling branches and vines hung above the boat.

The deer girl swung back to a vine just above the boat and slowly lowered herself. Once she was close enough, she hopped in.

“I must say you’re quite strong!” D/n praised with a tail wag. 

“Yeah, this was really helpful.” Y/n breathed out in relief.

The water pressed in, thick and sluggish, and they stayed by the log longer than they’d thought.

"But..." Her voice faltered as she stared at the boat. "We’re gonna have to leave it behind."

D/n’s ears lowered, “All of us aren't capable of swinging on vines.”

“Yeah…” Hoggle sighed, giving Y/n a sour look. 

"We can guide you both along," the deer girl promised, sparking an idea in Y/n’s mind.

They all turned to D/n, who looked at them with vulnerability. 

“How are we gonna move D/n…?” Hoggle questioned. 

Y/n’s eyes examined the bunch of hanging vines and branches above them, her mind racing faster than her pulse. She grabbed one of the thicker vines the deer girl had dragged down, testing it with a sharp tug, noting how sturdy it held. 

With another hard pull, the vine came free, tumbling into the boat like a coil of rope. She gathered it up, careful not to let any slip into the bog.

She walked over to D/n, “Alright, D/n, hold still,” she whispered, kneeling down and immediately starting to work. 

With quick, practiced movements, she looped the vine around twice, then folded it back on itself to make a broad band. She slid it carefully beneath D/n’s chest, just behind the forelegs, tying it snug but not tight, fingers checking the space between vine and fur.

Another length went around the hind legs, crossing gently under the belly to keep the weight balanced.

Her hands moved with quiet precision as she knotted, pulled, and checked repeatedly. 

She fashioned a final loop across D/n’s shoulders, threading it up toward the deer girl’s back like a harness, creating a crude but secure sling that would keep the dog upright and supported.

“Facing out,” Y/n murmured, adjusting the last knot so D/n’s head and chest stayed clear. “Breathe easy, okay?”

She pressed her forehead briefly to his.

Then she looked up at the deer girl.

“When you jump, lean forward. Let him rest against your back — don’t fight the weight. Let it sit where it wants to.”

The deer girl nodded, jaw tight, but steady.

Y/n gave the harness one last hard tug.

It didn’t budge.

“Alright,” she breathed. “You’re ready.”

She turned to Hoggle, “Hoggle can latch onto my back,” she said.

Hoggle marveled at the idea, “But I is too heavy for you!”

Y/n shrugged, “You’re not, I’ve flung Goblins around in my own house,” she said.

Hoggle, “Oh, if you say so…” he hesitantly inched up to Y/n’s back and climbed on, holding on tightly.  

Y/n took the remaining threads of the vine and looped it around her waist to secure him in place.

"You first," she urged the deer girl, who nodded and climbed onto a branch, swinging to the nearest vine. Y/n followed, feeling Hoggle’s shaky breath against her neck. They swung from vine to branch, Y/n already imagining the blisters forming on her palms.

“We’re almost there!” The deer girl panted,seeing a stone pathway that eventually arched up. 

The air thickened, their arms straining as each swing brought them closer to the unseen shore. The vines creaked, threatening to snap with every shift of weight. 

Below, the bog churned, releasing bubbles that burst with a sickening stench, and the water’s surface rippled as if something massive moved just beneath.

Hoggle whimpered behind her, his grip tightening at every lurch. The deer girl’s breathing became fast and shallow, her eyes wide with the terror from nearly missing her next hold. 

The stone pathway was so close, yet the final stretch felt impossibly long. Y/n’s arms began to tremble with exhaustion, whincing ever now and then as her palms gripped harsh surfaces of branch and vine. 

With a desperate, final swing, they all crashed onto the stone platform. For a moment, no one moved. Then the tension broke; gasps of relief, shaky laughter, and the realization that they were safe, at least for now. The oppressive dread eased as they untied their makeshift harnesses, the rancid smell lingering but distant compared to the fear that had gripped them moments before.

The four of them turned in the direction the stone platform’s path stretched into.

It was a brown solid ground. There are no birds, wind, or insects–just silence. The sky was a morbid brown, and the trees were dead far beyond their years.

The fog was now smog, but it thinned just enough for the towers to emerge once more, the castle appearing in the distance at the center of a few miles of the labyrinth to go. 

“We’re almost there.” The deer girl exhaled, studying the castle, “Although the castle is quite anticlimactic.”

Hoggle nodded, having to agree with her. 

They moved forward quietly, the sound of gravel crunching akin to walking on eggshells. The air was motionless, but a thin haze lingered in the atmosphere like a curtain.

D/n squinted, slightly speeding up ahead of them, tail immediately erect.

"Guys, I'm sensing something, let's hurry!"

The three of them picked up the pace, following D/n's pattering steps against the gravel. 

The outline of a door emerged from the low smog, prompting them to run toward it. The deer girl sped past Hoggle and Y/n with ease.

"Hey!" Y/n called out, enamoured by her inhuman speed. 

Once they all finally reached the door, Hoggle, being just moments behind Y/n, inspected their surroundings. 

"There's no wall, it's just a door." The deer girl noted disappointingly. 

"I have a bad feeling about this..." Hoggle shuddered, looking around and not seeing any walls that the door could possibly latch onto, just thick clouds of fog.

"We don't have a choice, we're short on time." D/n urged.

The deer girl quirked a brow, turning to Y/n, "There is a time limit to this?"

Y/n nodded solemnly. "I was given ten hours. I wish we knew how much time was left. Last time I checked, it was around four hours."

"It was supposed to be thirteen," D/n vocalized, "But Y/n's attitude gave the king quite a stir."

Y/n inhaled in agitation, shooting a glare at D/n, effectively telling the dog to be quiet.

"Ten hours instead of thirteen," the deer girl marveled teasingly, "You  sure got his attention."

Y/n pushed the heavy door open with a reluctant sigh, rolling her eyes.

As all four of them stepped inside, a sense of dread washed over them, sinking in their stomachs like a stone. 

They found themselves ensnared in the enigmatic chaos of an Escher room, where gravity seemed to twist and warp reality. The walls were adorned with impossibly angled staircases that defied logic, winding upwards and downward in a dizzying labyrinth. Shadows and openings danced mockingly in the corners, and the air was thick with unsettling disorientation. 

“Oh my gosh…” Y/n mouthed in disbelief.

“What is this, some kind of sick joke?” the deer girls erupted, clearly displeased.

They peered down at the dimly lit space below. The floor was intersected by four sturdy stairs that spiraled down. A faint glow illuminated the floor and stretched on, suggesting a promising exit—a beautifully framed archway. 

“We need to get to the bottom,” D/n pointed out.

They stepped back, trying to stay close to one another, but something felt off.

“Um, everyone…” Deer Girl quivered.

Everyone turned to look in her direction; she was strangely far away. Y/n glanced down and noticed a huge gap that she couldn't jump across to reach them.

“Oh no!” Hoggle gasped in dismay, also looking down to see a gap between himself and Y/n.

D/n was separated from the group as well.

They were each spread out evenly on separate pillars, with a staircase connecting each one.

This meant they all had their own routes.

“Son of a bitch,” Y/n seethed through gritted teeth.

Without any lines to wait in, the group immediately headed for the stairs that were part of their path. Y/n went straight up, Hoggle turned left, the deer girl went right, and D/n descended straight down.

The deer girl encountered a descending staircase to her left, but there was no clear sign indicating the way to their goal.

Hoggle stumbled over his own stubby feet, falling face-first onto the cold cement. He discovered a ramp that led through a circular opening. After crawling through it, he found himself in a narrow passageway and emerged on the other side of the room. Gasping in disbelief, he turned around to see that the opening was gone, indicating that he was now stuck.

Meanwhile, D/n and Y/n found themselves in a challenging frenzy as well as they moved cautiously up and down the flights of stairs, their footsteps echoing off the walls. The sharp path forced them to make quick decisions as they turned left and right,

Nobody was getting anywhere anytime soon. 

“I wanna see whoever’s sick idea it even was to trick us like this!” The deer girl fumed, stomping up yet another flight of stairs. 

“Let’s all try to go downward as much as we can, or in any direction that points toward the center!” Y/n called out. 

“I don’t  have a way, it keeps going up for me!” Hoggle panicked, looking up dreadfully at a staircase pointing up. 

At this point of scrambling, Y/n looked around from her mid-height position. The deer girl was flying above to her right, while Hoggle was diagonally far up to her left on the other side of the room. So far, D/n was the furthest down, but Y/n was eager to make much more progress.

The deer girl ran into a circular opening, only to end up abnormally high.

“Oh- damn– fiddlesticks!” She cursed, running straight ahead to the next flight of steps. 

Y/n hurried around until she found a staircase leading down into an archway that seemed to promise something interesting. She wasted no time running down the cement steps and into the wide tunnel beyond the archway. However, she was suddenly met with a sharp edge that wasn't connected to anything, creating a huge chasm between her and a disconnected staircase. She inched closer, peering over the edge, wishing she could leap across to it.

“Well,” a familiar voice purred,  rich with velvet mockery, "I must say this is progressing beautifully.”

Y/n froze, their expression shifting to one of cold realization.

After stepping back a few feet from the edge, she could hear her heart pounding in her ears as she assessed her surroundings. Yet, the direction of her gaze was misguided, so she looked up to her left.

There, perched nonchalantly on a rugged ledge that extended out from the ancient stone wall, sat Jareth. His legs swung lazily over the edge, and he leaned forward slightly, his elbows resting comfortably on his knees. The dim light from the archway behind him cast playful shadows across his face, hinting at his recent emergence from that passage.

He looked offensively comfortable. 

Y/n furrowed her eyebrows at the sight, irritation bubbling at her stomach–along with something else.

“Having trouble?” he continued lightly, his gaze fixed on her with an air of playful mischief. 

“I should warn you, straight paths tend to be terribly dull.” 

“Jareth,” Y/n bit out, frustration lacing her tone, “this is unfair, and you know it.”

A knowing curve tugged at the corners of the king's lips, revealing delight at the girl's exasperation. The sound of his name spilling from her lips was a melody to him, like a sweet anthem that resonated deep within.

“Oh, now don't act so betrayed,” he chided. “You’re the one who stepped inside.”

“No, you idiot, you rigged it,” she spat out bitterly, “knowing very damn well I have three hours left.”

“Two hours,” Jareth replied coolly, his tone unyielding, as if stating an undeniable fact.

“That soon?” Y/n nearly gasped. 

“You wanted to know the time.”

Y/n waved her hand dismissively, “whatever,” she huffed, “just let us out, this is too much”

Jarerth slid back, hopping up on his feet gracefully. He was now perched upon the ledge like a ruler amidst his domain, casting an air of authority that was unshakable. 

“Now that wouldn't be so fun, would it?” he drawled, gesturing lazily at the Escher room with one hand. “You would be missing all of this.”

“You separated us,” she said quietly, “that’s cruel and unfair.”

Jareth crossed his arms, looking down as a lazy chuckle escaped his lips, the sound low as a bass. 

“Cruelty would be letting you all wander together,” he replied, “relying on each other is more trouble.”

Y/n shook her head at the ridiculous thought, “it would actually save us time.”

Jareth pursed his lips, tilting his head in mock disappointment, “Missing the point entirely.”

Y/n's chest heaved deeply, “You’re running out my clock.”

His mouth curved faintly once more, he adjusted the cuff of his sleeve “Time runs whether I touch it or not.”

Silence momentarily fell between them, to where, somewhere above them, only the sound of pavement being scraped and swept could be heard, indicating one of the others was still running. 

With confidence, Y/n walked past Jareth back to the direction she entered, only to see that the entrance was now solid wall as if she'd never been there. She stared on in dismay; grief hummed in her chest. 

Jareth stared at her, saying nothing. 

Which was somehow worse than if he said anything. 

Y/n swallowed hard and turned to him, her gaze softening, the heaviness in her chest weighing her down. “You didn’t have to close it,” she murmured, her voice barely a whisper.

Jareth's eyes drifted to the void where the archway had been, his expression unreadable. 

“You were leaving,” he said, his tone indifferent.

“I was looking for another way,” she insisted, her desperation rising.

“You wouldn’t want to go back there, I assure you,” he replied, boredom evident in his voice.

“And you think this dead end is any better?” she challenged me.

“Corners are good for forcing honesty,” he countered.

She glanced back at the abyss, its shadow seeming to deepen. “What do you want me to do?” she nearly whined, helplessness creeping in as impatience gnawed at her insides.

The gap between the staircase and the edge remained unchanged, a rigid chasm that silently beckoned her forward.

Y/n didn’t move; she only peered, still out of everyone's view.

Jareth sighed in boredom, but not too seriously.

“I was hoping for something a bit more dramatic.”

Y/n shot him a glare. “Excuse me?”

“Everyone freezes. Everyone stares. As if the room might magically explain itself if stared at hard enough.”

“It’s a dead end,” she snapped.

A smirk curled on Jareth's face as he looked down, flattered by his masterwork of disaster. 

He gazed into the girl's eyes again, studying her face once more.

“You enjoy this,” she said. 

“I never said that,” he exhaled, “but yes.”

He leaned forward slightly, hands clasped behind his back, peering down at her like a cat regarding a new toy.

“Although you’re showing cleverness and  sensibility, you’re stubborn enough to stand still and sulk.”

“I’m not sulking,” she disputed, “and if you're not gonna be any help, why are you here?”

He straightened, mock offense flashing across his face, and he opened up his mouth to say something until Y/n cut right in once more.

“You know," she began, her voice dripping with playful challenge as she tilted her head, a flicker of mock innocence dancing in her batting eyes, 

"it seems like you enjoy cornering me when I’m alone."” She did her best to ignore the thrumming of her racing heart.

Jareth paused, his expression a carefully crafted mask— almost unreadable as he raised his brows. “Oh?” he replied, his tone light. “Do I?”

With a deliberate slowness, he leaned closer, his gaze locked on her with a mocking intensity.

 “Cornering,” he repeated, his voice dripping with amused sarcasm, “Alone. How dramatic you make it sound.” 

He clicked his tongue, slowly straightening up. “One might even suspect you enjoy the attention.” 

“And you enjoy giving it.” she shot back effortlessly. 

Jareth scoffed, the sound laced with just the right amount of disdain. “You confuse coincidence for intention. Remember, you’re in my labyrinth. I appear wherever I please.” 

The corner of Y/n’s mouth twitched, her defiance flickering brightly as she retorted, 

“Yeah, like in dreams, right?” 

A shadow passed over Jareth's features, something tighetened around his eyes like a coiling serpent. 

“Careful,” he warned, his tone mild yet edged with an unspoken threat. 

Suddenly, the escher room groaned, accompanied by the eerie sounds of gasping and pattering feet and paws.

Jareth glanced upward annoyed, “Honestly, they make such a racket.”

“You sent Hoggle to me,” Y/n continued, ignoring his distraction. “With a gift.”

The goblin king’s eyes flicked back to her at once, his gaze sharpened. 

Jareth’s eyes sharpened, fixing on her with a predatory glint. “It was merely a locket with a clock inside, nothing more.” He waved his hand dismissively.

“Why couldn’t you just give it to me yourself?” she challenged, determination flaring in her gaze. “Why let people believe things are their own idea? It’s manipulative,”

Jareth brushed imaginary dust from his sleeve. “If you're suggesting I orchestrate every little moment you experience, you flatter me.”

“This is a labyrinth, you orchestrate everything here.” Y/n countered. 

Jareth chuckled lightly, his tone playful. “You humans are always so eager to think your thoughts aren’t your own,” he said, watching her inch backward toward the edge.

A knowing look swept over her face. “Or maybe we just recognize when someone’s been the puppet master all along.”

Turning to face the abyss, she shifted her weight forward, the drop beneath.

“Back in the forest, in that dream you didn’t mean anything by…” she began, her voice trailing off.

His jaw clenched, tension radiating from him.

“You made it clear that you want people to hesitate under your manipulative influences of reality.”

Jareth instinctively went to lift his hand —then stopped and let it fall to his side once Y/n sharply spun on her heel, her fiery eyes striking into his one last time.

“But you never said the labyrinth punished people for deciding.”

For the first time, his composure cracked; not with fear, but with recognition. “Y/n—”

She hesitated not for a moment, her eyes drifting down to the four worn steps that led into the archway exit below. With determination, she adjusted her stance, feeling the weight of the vast chasm that separated her from the rest of the room. The distance loomed large and daunting, but in that moment, she considered the question that echoed in her mind: what did she truly have to lose?

You prepare a simple breakfast: some eggs and a piece of toast—nothing too extravagant. Besides studying, you have a few other tasks to accomplish today, and the morning still feels fresh. Since it’s only eight in the morning, which is just an hour and a half earlier than your usual routine for your 8:30 classes, it’s refreshing not to be in such a hurry.

Letting out an obnoxious yawn, you placed your toast beside your eggs, sat down, and enjoyed your meal. While breakfast wasn’t your favorite, you didn’t mind it. 

You started to reflect on how you spent last night and how you’d spend the one ahead. You groaned and pinched the bridge of your nose, feeling tangled up in your thoughts. Scrolling through the boy's social media like it was an art portfolio was not on your bingo card. Shame surged in your stomach as you realized how far you’d gone. With a determined sigh, you promised yourself never to let it happen again.

You cleaned the kitchen area and changed out of your oversized t-shirt and mini shorts. You changed into something comfortable enough to sit, study, and walk in. You decided to stuff your party outfit in your bag since you’d be getting ready at your friend’s place. 

You gathered your final  supplies and headed out to the library to lock in. It was warmer than yesterday, and you thanked yourself for not bringing a jacket. It was early enough for you to end your study session around noon and enjoy the outdoors and run a couple of errands. Since it was Friday, you’re gracing yourself with four hours of intentional focused study time. 

You found a comfortable seat and switched your phone to 'Do Not Disturb,' silencing the ringer. It doesn't take long for you to dive deep into the ocean of your studies, allowing each new concept to hit you like a wave meant to be understood and intentionally retained. 

Students slowly started trickling into the library, ranging from quiet to obnoxiously loud chatter depending on the floor they were going on. 

Fortunately, you sat in a private room, which meant that everything was muffled.

An hour had already passed of focused study time and you were deep in your zone, not looking up once.

You suddenly heard a knock on the window of the room. 

Jolting up, you turned your head in the direction of the disturbance, mildly irritated.

Until you saw who it was.

It was him, with a black backpack slung over one shoulder. Your eyes briefly traveled from the veins in his hands gripping the strap, down to the defined flexors of his forearm.

Before you could re-focus, he cracked open the door, peaking in partially.

“Hey, uh, I reserved this room from ten to twelve.” He stated. 

You held his gaze for a moment, luckily he didn’t seem bothered by your lack of urgency. 

You pushed yourself off the table and rose from your seat, giving him a smile of acknowledgment. 

“Yeah, no problem.” You said softly, closing your laptop. 

Just when you were going to stuff it in your bag, he spoke again. 

“Wait, we had class together didn’t we?”

You paused and slowly looked at him again, he was already stepping inside the room, shutting the door behind him. 

The brief, intense stare from across the seminar room; the heat of his hand on your waist as he’d brushed past you; the hours of detective work you'd done late last night—it was all disregarded the moment you replied...

“I think so…?” whilst furrowing your eyebrows in fake confusion. 

Unbeknownst to you, it takes two to tango. 

He didn’t look like a guy who was unsure. He was lingering a second too long for a stranger, his gaze traced the way you closed your laptop with a familiarity that didn’t match his casual tone. 

He gave you a small nod before saying…

“You can stay.”

Your eyebrows shot up in near shock and confusion, not only at the random act of kindness, but at the softness of his tone. 

“No, it’s fine, this is your space.” you insisted, shaking your head slowly, although you made no hurry to place your remaining things in your bag. 

He didn't wait for a second "no." Instead, he let his backpack slide off his shoulder, the heavy thud against the carpeted floor sounding like a period at the end of a sentence. He pulled out the chair directly across from yours.

"There's four chairs and one of me," he noted, his voice still carrying its usual low hum. He didn't look at you as he sat; he focused on the smooth surface of the table, his long fingers tapping a rhythmic, mindless pattern against the wood. "Besides, you looked pretty locked in. Didn't wanna ruin it over a reservation."

You felt the heat climb up your neck. He was being too reasonable, too accommodating. It made your "fake confusion" feel like a cheap suit that was starting to itch. You mentally slapped yourself for your white lie, how could he seem so calm and you were practically about to jump out of your skin. 

Despite the discomfort, you forced yourself to sit back down and open your laptop again. 

He sat directly across from you. Not diagonally, not next to you (which would be odd)—across from you (which,ironically, felt weirder). He settled in, pulling out his laptop, iPad, notebook, and a writing utensil. Even though you had a busy tab open on your computer, you watched him intently. His shirt clung snugly around his arms, highlighting his deltoids and biceps. The line of his jaw was sharp under the natural light from the window, and you noticed how his eyebrows knitted together in concentration.Suddenly, you felt as though your detective work on him last night has failed you, for there was certainly more to him than what meets the eye—considering the fact that social media was nothing but a fake curated facade. 

You blinked after moments of staring and returned to your own work as well. Adjusting your music to avoid the deafening silence. Glancing up again, you noticed that he had his own music playing too, so you both were in your own zones. 

The room was filled with the sounds of keyboards typing, soft sighs, and the rustling of paper. It took every ounce of your willpower to resist the urge to look up, but occasionally, you could sense someone watching you. Unless, of course, you were simply feeling self-conscious.You honestly didn't know why you stayed, you could’ve found another comfortable spot in the library, but at the same time you would’ve also been filled with regret. 

The keyboard sounds faded into the background. Your strategy of keeping your eyes anchored to your screen still worked. From the outside you seemed locked in, and you partially were, but underneath that surface you were re-reading sentences, and highlighting lines of texts you’d have to come back to later because your brain was too busy registering the slight shift in his chair every time he adjusted his posture, or the sounds of paper when he flipped though his notebook to write again. 

Until those noises stopped; feeling like an abrupt physical tug.

Without thinking, you glanced up from your laptop and froze. 

He wasn’t looking at his notebook, his ipad, or his laptop.

There was no time to look away, no time for fake confusion or pretending you were looking elsewhere. You caught him completely red-handed, and he knew it. But instead of snapping his gaze back to his work, or offering a quick embarrassed apology, he held your gaze. Boldness like this could only be possessed by a man who knew who he was and what he wanted. 

It didn’t help that the corner of his mouth tugged into a smirk, breaking the stillness. If anything; he looked amused that you’d finally looked up. And that sent you over the edge. 

He slowly dropped his hands from his chin, leaning forward onto the table close to a fraction of the distance between you. 

You immediately drew up your defenses, furrowing your eyebrows and narrowing your eyes. 

“What?” you bit out, trying to sound irritated. 

He blinked, his smirk faltered slightly, “I can’t try to start a conversation?”

Your scowl deepened, “By staring?” you questioned. 

“It got your attention, didn’t it?” he countered. 

You rolled your eyes, fighting back a smile. You lowered the lid of your laptop.

“I guess I could use a brain break.” You considered. 

The conversation from there was intentionally light, steering clear of anything too personal. The two of you talked about the basics: your majors, your hometowns, how many finals you had left, and how cruel your professors were. 

He was a good listener–attentive in a way that made your pulse flutter. You found yourself talking easier than you usually did with strangers, your defensive walls lowering slowly with every shared smile and laugh. For a solid twenty minutes, the textbooks and assignments sitting between you were completely forgotten. 

It wasn't until he looked down at his phone that the real world finally crashed back into the room.

“Damn,’ he murmured, a genuine look of disappointment crossing his face as he tapped the screen. “My time’s up. The next reservation is about to kick us out.”

You immediately felt relief, because you had no idea what else to talk about unless it was going into personal life or anything deeper. You had no problem talking to people, but you were pretty cautious with who you shared information with. 

As you gathered your supplies, the familiar routine brought a sense of purpose. You shared a brief exchange with him before parting ways, a moment filled with unspoken words and lingering thoughts. He was likely leaving the library, while you braced yourself for one last hour of work. The tranquility of the space settled around you, and with him gone, you finally felt a surge of focus wash over you. It was the perfect chance to dive deep into your tasks, finally able to concentrate without distractions pulling at your attention.

Already heading near the exit, he looked over his shoulder watching as you weaved past a small group of students chatting away. He watched you walk, your walk, that had a confidence that would forever be etched in his mind. He was once again fascinated by how you took up even the most mundane of a space. Letting out a final sigh, he pushed the door open and headed out, looking forward to the food awaiting him at his apartment. 

After studying for about an hour, you leave the library. You and your friend had arranged over text to run some errands together and grab something to eat. You meet her by a tree on campus that’s located in a central spot, making it easier for both of you to find each other.

The two of you decided to make your first stop at Target. You both were in the toiletries section, taking your time. You felt an urge to tell her about the boy in your class with whom you shared a reservation (and stalked last night). When you finally did, her eyebrows shot up in surprise, and her mouth fell open.

“Dude, what the hell? And you’re just now speaking to him?” She whispered-yelled.

You rolled your eyes, “Yeah, yeah, yeah, we likely won’t talk again, so what was the harm in sitting with him.”

She chuckled, “yeah, it’s totally not like you did a whole background check last night or anything.”

You raised your hands up in fake defense, “God forbid a girl is curious.”

Your friend gave you a slight nod, her eyes fixed on the hand sanitizer bottle in her hand as if it were a mysterious artifact. “Okay, fair point,” she said, a teasing smile on her lips. “But there’s definitely some level of interest.” Her gaze met yours, daring you to argue. With a playful grin, she leaned in and said, “Follow him on insta.” 

“No.” You answered sharply, not even giving the suggestion a second to breathe. 

“Oh my goodness, girl, seriously.” She sighed in exasperation, “What if something happens, and you all never see each other again?”

You gave her a peculiar look; it was no mystery she was trying to persuade you rather poorly.

“Also, we have one more year of college. We’ll be seniors, and you’re still not bold enough to make some moves?” She pushed. 

You shrugged, putting a dish sponge into your basket, “Well, he should follow me first. I’m not the man here.” 

She pursed her lips, “C’mon, we both know that’s not fair.”

She’s right, it wasn’t. And she’s close to you enough to know that your beliefs don’t operate that way, you just wanted an excuse to not make any further moves. 

“Whatever, it’s too soon to follow him, anyways. I just saw him.” You reasoned, putting hand soap in your basket. 

She bit her lower lip in thought. “Okay, give it time, and then make your move,” she agreed, giving you a playful wink.

It didn’t take long for both of you to finish your essential shopping at Target. Afterward, you made your way to the nearest sandwich place to get food to go. The temperature was in the mid-seventies, and you couldn’t be happier that the weather was finally improving after a week of unseasonably cool temperatures. It was the perfect way to usher in the end of your junior year and the start of a blissful summer.

The weather was perfect for the outfit you chose for TJ's party tonight.

Orbit: Part 2 is officially up! The library tension was real, but the weather is finally warming up for TJ's party tonight... hehe I still have 1 final commission slot open for this round. If you want a custom, slow-burn story written in this exact cinematic style, DM me the template to claim it before it’s gone!

He resisted the urge to bite his lower lip as he studied you, a canvas that revealed a complex story with endless meanings. The way your fingers danced across the delicate keyboard of your laptop made it clear you were immersed in your own world, which he appreciated. It saved him the embarrassment of being caught watching you.

The voice of the girl who was presenting was background noise to you, your eyes glazed over by the light of your computer as you typed intently, entering a rhythm that no distraction could break. 

He didn’t touch his computer for what felt like ages, his screen completely faded to black, and he disregarded the open tabs that occupied his screen. His fingers subconsciously hovered over his keyboard, lost in a trance. But nobody noticed, no one was really paying attention to the girl at the front of the room, either. Eventually, someone clapped, and, like robots obeying a command, everyone else followed suit as if they had been engaged all along.

This college semester was coming to a close and the mental lethargy and exhaustion were palpable in the room. You continued to work on your overflowing study guide; you’ve always been an avid note taker, even at the expense of your fingertips nearly going numb. You were oblivious to the guy right across from you in the small seminar room, his elbow now resting on the table, his head cradled in his hand, eyes glued to you as if looking away would be a sin. 

You paused your typing to scroll to the next page of your study guide. The next presenter approached the podium.

You glance up momentarily, following her movements.  Then, as if compelled by invisible strings, your eyes darted to his.

But this time, he wasn't looking. His gaze was fixed on his own laptop. You weren't quick enough to look away. You held his gaze longer than you intended, allowing his face to linger in your mind even after you turned back to your screen to continue your work.

You were always curious about him—that boy who made a point to sit in that very spot across from you every day. He was certainly handsome, but that was all you thought about him. The idea of approaching a man as a woman didn’t appeal to you. Besides, you often thought very little of relationships, preferring to focus on your own life. You viewed the opposite sex as just eye candy, mere specimens to giggle about with your friends before moving on with your day.

You used to take guys more seriously, but after playing the dating game at your own expense, you stopped altogether. What was the point of investing time in a man you knew would end up disappointing you? Attractive ones, in particular, were unappealing because they usually knew they were good-looking. So you chose to simply look, make a mental note, and move forward. That was what life was about, after all.

Moving forward.

Your professor dismissed the class, thanking everyone for a wonderful semester and wishing you all an enjoyable summer. By the sound of her voice, it seemed her brain had also been fried, which was understandable; she had worked hard, just like her students.

You bid her farewell, giving her a soft smile that she returned gracefully. In the blink of an eye, you were nudging your way past your peers; you hated slowness.

As your fingers reached for the doorknob and cooled around its cool exterior, you pressed down and pushed the door open. Suddenly, you sensed a presence behind you, a warm gentle pressure of another body against your backside. You looked up to see a hand above your head, aiding you in pushing the door open. The faint scent of cologne wafting towards you--a rich blend that ignited your senses. Your eyes nearly widened in surprise at the unexpected contact and the undeniable magnetism of the scent. 

“Excuse me,” a low voice spoke from behind you.

Before you could respond, you felt a large hand on your waist as the same body brushed past you and through the door.

You furrowed your eyebrows, watching the back of the guy walking ahead of you.

“Was I really that slow?” you muttered to yourself.

“No, you weren’t,” he replied without turning his head.

You nearly jolted at his unexpected response, but he simply resumed walking.

Embarrassment flooded through you; not only were you slow, but you had also spoken too loud.

You quickly tried to shake off the feeling and ignored his reassuring gesture as he disappeared into the sea of students and out the doors of the hall.

The rest of the day was consumed by studying. It was four o’clock, and you had agreed not to eat dinner until seven forty-five. It was Thursday, and your Fridays and weekends usually involved lighter review sessions. You were the type of studier who was consistent, not necessarily overworked, which contributed to your exceptional grades.

With two exams approaching in the next--and last-- week of finals, you settled into your study routine without hesitation. Active recall, flashcards, YouTube videos—you were a resourceful student who didn’t stop until the information was ingrained in your mind.

However, there was something else sticking with you, and it irritated you more than it excited you.

Because you didn't take men seriously, you didn't  allow them to touch you. It wasn’t because you were repulsed or hated them all together; you were simply guarded. 

You tried to dismiss the encounter as nothing, a fleeting moment, a mistake in spacing, a crowded doorway.

But your waist didn’t agree. It lingered in the same spot where his hand had rested for that brief moment, as if your body had stored the contact in a way your mind couldn't erase. The more you ignored it, the more it demanded to be remembered.

Then you felt it: a warmth starting from your chest, moving to your stomach, then lower, almost as if someone had gently massaged a muscle you hadn’t known existed.

His voice, it was something you had never heard before, and it both scared and bewitched you.

As you reached the final forty-five minutes of your study session, you glanced at the clock on your laptop, which read seven o’clock. Crossing your legs firmly, you took a long sip of water from your bottle, cranked up the volume on your headphones, and drowned out the noise around you.

More students began to trickle into the library, which was no surprise given the hour. Checking your clock once again, you saw it was now seven forty-five. Finally, you gathered your materials and headed out through the double doors.

The May breeze immediately greeted your skin with its coolness at dusk, brushing away any residue from the winter slump. One more week until classes would be over for three and a half glorious months. There was nothing more soothing than finally entering the final home stretch of college. After this year, you will be a senior and finish your undergraduate phase forever.

Suddenly, you hear someone calling your name. Whipping your head in the direction of the enthusiastic voice, you see your friend lightly jogging up to you, a warm smile on her face.

“I’m so glad I caught up, I had no idea you were in the library!” she gasped, pulling you in for a side hug, which you gladly returned. 

“Finals week kicking your ass too?” you said with a chuckle.

“Dude, I’m so cooked!  I have one final for four days in a row next week.” she huffed helplessly. 

“You’re kidding! I swear they do this on purpose to have us fail at least once.” You replied, furrowing your eyebrows in disbelief. 

The two of you continued to stroll around campus, taking advantage of the lovely weather. Your friend mentioned that she hadn’t eaten all day, surprisingly due to stress. You sympathized with her, and you both decided to grab some food in one of the dining halls.

Neither of you were particularly fans of the food your college provided, but after scanning the online menu, there were a few things that were tolerable for the evening.

You stopped at one of the food stations while your friend went to another one across the room. While waiting to be served, you scanned the trays of options. Your stomach rumbled just thinking about the satisfying meal you were about to devour.

Others waited behind you, patiently waiting  for their turn.

“How may I help you?” one of the ladies behind the station said warmly, though exhausted.

You stated your order, which required something to be heated for about five minutes, so you stepped to the side as others made their requests. Moments later, you found yourself dissociating, not even bothering to check your phone as a distraction.

“Yeah, I’ll have the rice, and..”

You blinked suddenly, eyes darting to the person who possessed that voice. 

And there he was, standing calm as ever, hands in his pockets, swaying slightly on the balls of his feet. Your gaze traced down the line of his face, noting how his Adam's apple rose and fell  with each word he spoke. His brow furrowed and shifted, hinting at the thoughts churning beneath his composed surface.

You blinked again, as if your eyes deceived you. Then you looked over at the lady, who gestured to where you were standing.

“Two minutes.” you heard her tell him.

He gave the woman a nod and shifted toward you, far enough to remain outside your personal space but close enough to be in each other’s orbit of awareness. 

You maintained an unbothered composure, arms crossed and expression neutral. 

Reluctantly,  become aware of your breathing, each  blink feeling deliberate, and suddenly adjusting your posture. 

How long was five minutes, and why did you suddenly hate waiting?

The lady finally called you over after a brutalizing final minute of being overly self conscious, and you stated your order. 

He bit the lower corner of his lip absentmindedly, watching as you pointed at the trays of food spread before you. His eyebrows lightly knitted together as he listened closely to your voice, his eyes traveling up and down your body, just enough to take in the outline of your profile. You spoke with charm, like a woman who knew exactly what she wanted the moment you stepped into this space. Even when you were called back  by the lady, you marched up there with authority. A stride more powerful than any leader, model, or celebrity he’s ever seen. You made even the most mundane places and tasks look like the red carpet of an award show. Whether it was you studying, laughing with your friends, or presenting in class a few days ago on narrative fragmentation and trauma, he found himself fascinated by your mind.

He watched you walk away with your friend, making sure to catch the very spot you two were seated, conveniently the table next to the table he and his friends were at. 

The odds were truly on his side this evening, and he had to hold back a relieved smile. 

After getting his plate of food, he sat down with his friends and immediately joined their conversation, while you were deep in discussion with your friend. He glanced over occasionally, trying not to draw attention to himself. He noted that you two were engrossed in what she was showing you on her phone.

“No way! I thought—” he heard you exclaim in disbelief.

Yup, gossip.

Well, what else was there to talk about at this time of year besides the fact that finals were challenging everyone?

He returned to eating his food, laughing along with his friends, even though he had no idea what they were talking about.

Anything to hide what he was truly feeling.

The conversation shifted from laughter to plans for Friday night.

“Are you all going to T.J.’s party tomorrow night?”

“Definitely! Wait, where does he live again?”

“...you’ve got to bring your own drink…”

“Yo, you’re coming, right?” one of his friends asked him.

“Yeah, for sure,” he nodded.

It was now eight thirty, and you and your friend were satisfied with the food you had enjoyed. You both talked about how the meal exceeded your expectations and how “big” you felt after getting a second plate. After all, thinking and studying hard does burn calories because the brain is hard at work.

You both said goodbye, with plans to see each other tomorrow. Normally, you and a couple of other friends did something on Fridays, but that was still up in the air. But you never failed to have a good time, even if the plans were spontaneous.

You took a shower, freshened up, and climbed into bed with your iPad. This week was technically the last week of classes before the final stretch of finals, although you had a few already earlier in the week. It felt good knowing you didn’t have any boring lectures to dread.

You scrolled through Pinterest, the music playing in your ears that enhanced your creative journey as you saved countless ideas. You had plenty of boards: your curated stylish vacation outfits, whimsical wedding inspirations, delicious recipes, aesthetically pleasing photos,  alongside mood boards that capture your evolving identity. Pinterest allowed you to create and shape yourself into the woman you were destined to be. The world was your oyster, each pin was a pearl in the treasure of your future. 

A notification popped up from your group chat with friends. You clicked on it to see what it said.

It turned out you had missed a series of notifications, which often happened when you were immersed in your own world.

The conversation thread was about going to a party tomorrow night at ten. They said it was TJ’s party. You were quite familiar with TJ, he was in one of your general ed classes last year, and he was a decent guy with whom you’d occasionally chat in passing. His place was about a fifteen-minute walk from campus, which wasn’t too bad. You continued scrolling through the messages and saw that everyone except one person was down to go. The group chat wasn’t very big, only five of you, so it seemed the four of you were going.

You closed the messages app, and instead of returning to Pinterest, you opened your class portal and clicked on the roster tab. There were very few boys in your class, so it didn’t take long to find his last name.

There he was, his school ID photo clear as day among the other faces and names. He stood out like a needle in a haystack.

Zooming in on his picture wasn't enough.

You opened Instagram and searched for his first and last name.

He didn’t show up.

So you continued to fiddle with the search bar until you found something that looked like him. It took a few tries, but you finally managed to get it right.

For a good thirty minutes, you dove deep into his online presence. It turned out he was mutual friends with TJ and was quite involved in school activities. You tried several platforms beyond just Instagram and tagged photos, searching on LinkedIn, Hudl, Facebook, and any other social media sites you could think of. It had been a while since you had researched a guy this intently, and it was even rarer that you became this invested, as if his life were an endless black hole.

The last time you looked at the clock, it was ten o’clock. You quickly exited the many tabs you had opened about this particular guy.

“Yuck,” you muttered under your breath, a wave of disgust washing over you as you realized how much energy you had just poured into him. 

With a sigh, you closed your eyes momentarily, shaking off the unpleasant feeling before you switched your laptop to a streaming service. You clicked on a comfort movie, and the opening credits began to play, wrapping you in a warm nostalgia that made you feel safe. 

As the story unfolded, you allowed yourself to sink into the comforting embrace of the film and your comforter, the world outside fading away. Eventually, as the soft light of the screen dimmed and your eyelids grew heavy, you turned off the laptop, surrendering to the comforting pull of sleep that enveloped you like a cozy blanket.

I intend for this to be 2-3 parts, so stay tuned, loves <3

With every step deeper into the blissful corridors, Y/n felt the insistent shadow of impending doom as Jareth’s presence echoed around her like a haunting refrain.

“He’s just fucking with me,” she muttered to herself, biting the inside of her cheek, trying to contain any pent-up emotion that diverts her attention from the goal– her mom. 

The very air pressed down on her, almost taunting, as if the labyrinth itself could sense her desperate self-assurances. She felt laughed at, by the walls, by the whole situation, by Jareth. Heck, he was probably peering intently in his crystal ball with that malicious grin on his face enjoying the psychological torture his new toy was enduring. 

Her stride faltered, becoming uneven as she dragged her feet. Each step felt heavier, as though she’d wandered for ages. She glanced down, wincing as the punishing floor sent sharp aches up her calves and pressure settled relentlessly on her knees.

She stumbled and caught herself on a wall that was no longer  obsidian, but a rough, earthen brown, veined with glittering minerals and embedded gemstones. The abrupt change in scenery barely registered through the haze clouding her vision. She blinked rapidly, struggling to find clarity, her palm scraped against the textured stone leaving indents. The coolness of the wall seeped into her skin, grounding her just enough to keep from collapsing completely as vertigo threatened to overwhelm her.

In the distance, she started hearing panting and paws pattering along the dirt path. For a second, she forgot where she was and darted her head in all directions, a tinge of hope blossoming in her chest. 

“D/n…Hoggle…” she whispered hopefully. For a second, the weight of the underground seemed to have released from her being. 

“Y/n! There she is!” D/n yelped, leaping for joy towards its owner.

“D/n, oh I’m so glad you found me!” Y/n exhaled, kneeling down to be welcomed by enthusiastic licks on her face. 

As her unsteady hands started petting  her furry friend, she felt something cool in between the fur–and it wasn't a collar. 

Y/n’s vision sharpened as she leaned back, eyes locking onto the opal locket glinting at D/n’s neck. Her breath caught as she traced the shimmer of the ornate locket and the silver chain cradling it.

“Where did you find this?” Y/n breathed, eyes locked with Hoggle’s, who momentarily looked away while inching toward her.

“Oh, um, I founds it lying in the middle of the path,” he pointed a trembling finger to D/n, “we figured that it would look splendid on you.” 

Y/n’s eyes squinted slightly, “I see,” she cleared her throat, suddenly mustering the strength to stand back up. Arms crossed, looking  down at the Hoggle. 

“So it just so happened to be lying there….” she drawled, not buying Hoggle’s story. 

“Hoggle gave it to me when we met up along the way.” D/n chimed in, its tail slowly stopped wagging. 

“You two were - oh, right, we were all split up.” Y/n pondered biting the inside of her cheek in thought, slowly nodding. 

Hoggle swallowed hard, cursing the dog in his thoughts. If Y/n refused the locket, he was certain Jareth would send him straight to the bog.

Within a snap of a second, Y/n darted her eyes at Hoggle again, with a displeased expression on her face. 

“Jareth gave you that damn thing, you think I didn't watch the mov–I mean–you thought I was born yesterday?” She snapped, her body language signaling offense. 

“No, no!” Hoggle stammered, looking about walls embellished with gemstones,  “The labyrinth is full of jewels and gemstones, including this cave. This lovely piece just so happened to be one of ‘em. It dropped from-” 

Y/n shook her head, “A whole bunch of bull.”

Hoggle slumped in defeat. He could already hear the squelching and gurgling of the smelly Bog water. 

“Your ass can end up in the Bog for all I care.” Y/n spat, turning away and storming onward.

Hoggle recoiled as if Y/n’s words formed into a fist and knocked the wind out of him. Him and D/n exchanged looks and scurried behind her.

The Goblin King exhaled a low, guttural sound, his disappointment palpable as the shimmering scene within his crystal ball dissolved into swirling mist. His sharp features twisted into a scowl, eyes cold with irritation and just a trace of reluctant admiration for Y/n’s stubbornness. With a controlled, almost theatrical flick of his gloved wrist, the crystal vanished from his palm.

The silence that followed was heavy, broken only by the faint grinding of the ancient clock gears behind him and the tightening of his jaw as he contemplated his next move.

He glanced at the clock against the stone wall, enormous and ancient. Its numbers are uneven and warped, its gears grinding and tired, the hand resting a few inches after the six. 

Time flew fast in the labyrinth. 

“There, there, you got it, Mrs. L/n!” a lady goblin cheered, watching the woman crochet a blue handkerchief. 

To keep the mother’s mind soothed about the whereabouts of her daughter, Jareth ordered an older lady, Goblin, Ruzelda, to give her crocheting lessons. They’ve been at it for a couple of hours, and M/n had never been so impressed with how fast she picked up the skill. 

Unfortunately for her, she had to stay in the throne room, where Jareth could keep an eye on her. For her unrestful and obstinate nature … irked him. 

On the brighter side, she has some insight into how the labyrinth worked. All she knew was that Y/n had to defeat the challenge within ten hours to save her.

“Goblin King,” she blurted, still honed in on her project. 

“Hm,” Jareth replied, his eyes still locked on the clock. He was surely deep in thought, the way he was tapping his cane against his knee. 

“I feel like you’re leaving out important details about this…challenge.”

“Like…” Jareth drawled boredly; his tolerance was thinning every time the woman spoke. It didn't help with the insistent ticking of the clock–it was equivalent to hearing nails on a chalkboard. 

“What happens if Y/n fails the challenge–which I know she won't–”

“If you think she won’t, then why ask?” Jareth said with an eye roll. 

“I’m only curious.” M/n protested, pausing her crocheting and snapping her head up toward the king.

“No, you’re uncertain,”Jareth replied, exhaling through his nose. “And uncertainty often comes from not trusting your daughter to succeed” 

After a few winding turns, the labyrinth finally offered a glimmer of light; not the blinding blaze of the sun, but a gentle green glow, threaded with the faint chorus of hidden creatures.

Stepping out, Y/n took in the scenery before her, as if time stopped and she had entered a different pocket of the Labyrinth.

Before her stretched a forest bathed in the gentle illusion of peace, every shadow and branch arranged with a sacred welcome. Sunlight spilled through the canopy in golden ribbons, dust motes drifting lazily in the shimmering air. For a heartbeat, reality itself seemed to ripple, as if touched by a dream. The water mirrored the sunlight, each ripple gilded, dissolving into the next in a dance of light.

D/n and Hoggle stooped just beside her, as they took in the wonderful sight as well. 

“Are you sure we made the right turn?” D/n asked, sitting on its bottom, suddenly pulled in by the breathtaking view.

“I saw a forest kind of like this in the movie,” Y/n said, almost to herself. “But this one is way better." 

Colors melted together like watercolor, boundaries lost in the haze. A pale moth drifted past Y/n’s shining eyes, its wings catching the light, gliding with the ease of something that belonged.

Like it was some unspoken agreement, the trio started walking again, following the tranquil river as its waters moved slowly. It urged them to keep following its movements captured in the light, each reflection reforming with every step they took.  The mist drifted low along its edges, blurring the lines between water and air. 

D/n halted mid-step, tail stiff as a branch, while the air around them seemed to hold its breath.

“It feels like we’re going further and further away.” D/n pondered.

Y/n slowed her pace, suspicion flickering in her gaze, yet wonder still shimmered in her eyes.

“This is the second time you’ve expressed uncertainty,” Y/n observed,  “I’m starting to feel the same.”

Hoggle, with his nerves already in a bunch, remained silent, looking around nervously as if watched, though there was nothing to be scared of. 

“D/n, does that locket have anything in it?” Y/n asked. 

“I’m not sure,” D/n replied.

Y/n knelt to meet D/n’s gaze, cradling the opal in her palm and traced the delicate silver clasps along its edge.

“There may be a clock, or perhaps a compass.” She added, taking her thumbs and prying them open.

The three huddled close, marveling at the clock hidden within the locket. Its interior gleamed with flawless pearl, bold black numbers etched deep, and a lone golden hand hovering between six and seven.

There were no more than ten numbers. 

“Shit…” Y/n cursed lightly, coming to realize that there was little time left.

“Y/n, this locket is getting quite heavy on me despite how light it seems to be,” D/n commented. 

Y/n sighed deeply. “As tempting as it is to toss it, we need it. It’s the only way to know how far we’ve come.”

Relief washed over Hoggle. Unlike the veil peach scheme, this was a gift for their journey, a tool worth keeping close.

“See, it’s a good thing we kept it, yeah?” Hoggle chimed in optimistically. 

“Shut up.” Y/n replied dismissively, removing the locket from around D/n’s neck and standing up once more. 

“Let’s keep to the river,” D/n suggested. Y/n hummed her agreement, the locket resting in her open palm, her gaze drawn irresistibly to its surface.

They moved on, eyes sweeping every inch of the forest. Y/n had never witnessed such beauty. The grass’s gentle dampness seemed to cleanse her shoes, while a summer breeze dried her skin, leaving it glowing.

The forest brimmed with renewal. D/n dashed ahead, tumbling joyfully through grass and leaves. Even Hoggle relaxed, grateful that Jareth’s cruelty seemed to have faded for now.

“Have you been in this forest before, Hoggle?” Y/n asked as her eyes followed yet another moth that flew in front of her. 

“No,” Hoggle answered, spotting a patch of daisies ahead. He hurried over, plucked five from the earth, and stopped before Y/n.

“But I’m sure glad I am now.” He said with a soft smile, although he was trembling quite a bit. 

Y/n expression beamed, the forest beaming along with her as her glistening lips curled into a smile so beautiful and heart throbbing.  Hoggle nearly choked on a breath as his cheeks reddened. 

“Hoggle, these are gorgeous,” she said softly, taking them gently from his hands.

“Bah! It’s nothin’!” Hoggle coughed nervously, looking away. 

Y/n considered giving him a quick kiss on the cheek, or maybe a warm hug. But she didn't want to ruin this moment. 

Hoggle and Y/n chatted quietly as they followed the river. D/n, tired from play, rejoined them. Y/n opened the locket again, daisies in hand. The clock’s pearl face caught the sunlight, impossibly pristine. For a heartbeat, she imagined the numbers melting inward, as if time itself was being swallowed.

“Y/n?” 

She didn't answer. Her eyes started becoming heavy.

“Y/n?” Hoggle tried again, closer now. 

Suddenly, she blinked and looked up, as if snapped out of a trance.

All three froze. Beyond the forest’s mist, high above the treetops, the faint outline of a castle tower emerged. It was distant, yet unmistakable.

Her breath caught, “That’s the castle.”

Hoggle stared, stunned, “Why, it is aint it,  thought we had strayed!”

Without meaning to, Y/n looked back down at the locket. 

She lifted it a little higher, angling it toward the light. She shifted it slightly, catching the opal’s translucent sheen as the light inside of it deepened.

She shifted it again. This time the pearl face seemed to sink away, the golden hand trembling slightly. The numbers stretched in an odd array, eventually liquifying into ink-like streams. 

“Y/n?” she heard far away.

But Y/n stood rooted to the spot, her body swaying as if caught in a gentle current.

A slow, deliberate warmth bloomed in her palm, creeping up her wrist, her arms, and into her chest.

The forest blurred at the edges, trees and sunlight melting into ribbons of color as the river’s song faded away.

The locket became impossibly heavy, just as D/n had warned.

At last, it slipped from her grasp along with the daisies. The opal flared, spilling light that swallowed her vision whole.

Her breathing slowed, the ground tilted beneath her feet and the world around her dissolved into a gentle haze before she shut her eyes to be met with complete darkness. 

Grass was the first thing she felt.

The first thing she saw was the faint glow pressed just behind her eyes.

The forest was still wrapped in that dreamlike hush, the kind that made everything soft around the edges, as if the world were holding its breath. 

But this time, something was off.

She shifted, feeling a strange lightness in her body, almost like she’d been rinsed clean and left new. Her eyes fluttered open, slow and cautious, half-expecting sharp light but finding only warmth. The feeling against her skin wasn’t her usual clothes—it was something smoother, something finer.

A silk dress clung to her like a second skin, pale and luminous against the green of the grass. The fabric fell in smooth, liquid folds from her bodice, skimming her hips with deliberate grace, as if it had been shaped for her alone.

Beneath the satin, a subtle corset structure drew in her waist, making her posture more regal. 

Thin straps rested on her shoulders, fragile as if they might slip away with a single careless movement.

At her thigh, an intentional slit opened in the fabric.

At her throat, the opal locket lay at her sternum, cool and delicate, its pale surface catching the light with every rise and fall of her chest.

She was too dazed to react. So she rested her head against the grass once more, letting out a sigh. Her eyes were half-lidded as she lay there, white clovers scattered around her like fallen stars . One arm draped over her stomach, the other at her side—she probably looked more like a storybook princess than herself.

Beyond the trees, she caught the silhouette of an owl. Its wings unfurled as it descended, carving long ribbons of shadow through the light. It circled the field once, twice, the hush of its feathers stirring the air, until the brightness filtering through the leaves grew too warm, too heavy on her eyelids.  Her muscles betrayed her into relaxation, and she hummed softly and moved about as if in bed.

Then the grass rustled beside her signaling a second presence that was rather close. 

She opened her eyes, turned her head, and saw him. 

Jareth, lying there, calm as anything.

One leg bent, the other stretched out, he propped himself on his elbow, angling his body toward her. He was looking down at her with a heavy, hooded softness she’d never seen on him before. He was dressed in white, though there was nothing innocent about it. The shade was more like old bone polished by time. His sheer shirt hung loose and completely open, the delicate fabric falling from his shoulders to frame the bare, sculpted lines of his chest. His usual crescent pendant, now ivory with an opal at its core, rested at his sternum.

Over the shirt, a fitted corset cinched his waist, structured and ornate, laced with cream threading that seemed to draw the eye directly to the lean lines of his torso. The sleeves billowed at his forearms, tapering into cuffs that brushed the backs of his ungloved hands. High-waisted trousers clung perfectly to his lithe, powerful frame, finished with a white satin cape fastened by soft gold buckles.

To Y/n, he looked far too vulnerable to be a king, but entirely too dangerous to be a prince.

His bare hand slid to her inner thigh without warning. The heat of his palm seared right through her skin. It wasn't a tentative touch; it was an anchor.

Her breath hitched, her leg shifting instinctively as the fabric of her dress parted beautifully, exposing the bare skin that glistened in the dappled sunlight. Jareth’s dark eyes darkened further, his jaw clenching tight at the astounding sight. 

He brushed his thumb over the bare skin,  savoring how soft she was. His other hand traced up her shoulder, slow and careful, until his palm cradled her jaw, his thumb brushing her cheek with tenderness. Her eyes slipped closed without permission, tilting her head  into his hand like she’d been waiting for it, even if the rest of her didn't understand why.

In that moment, every sharp word she had ever thrown at him dissolved,  undone by the slow, undeniable pull of him, fading like mist in sunlight.

She felt his breath against her jaw as he leaned closer, withdrawing his hand from her face only to trail his nose along the line of her neck.

She tilted her head back, lips parting. Her arm lifted of its own accord, reaching for him, fingers sinking into his hair, which was softer than she’d imagined.

She slowly lifted each vertebra off the ground into his touch. His hand resumed its slow path along her thigh, stopping at the curve of her hip, twirling his thumb on the delicate skin. 

Jareth lingered, mindfully, as if one wrong move would corrupt her. He was close enough to kiss her, but it was as if a forbidden line hovered between his lips and her skin. So instead, he allowed his breath to linger. 

Her grip tightened in his hair, not wanting to let go, afraid he’d disappear and take the dream with him. 

“Don’t wake,” he whispered, so quiet it might have been for himself. 

The words curled around her mind, soft as a lullaby lulling her to sleep. 

The forest sighed around them, folding gently into this moment, as if everything around them was crafted solely for the two of them. 

Jareth’s eyes dropped to the opal pendant that glimmered faintly between them, his expression conveying a sense of restraint. 

She stirred slightly, eyelashes fluttering, caught between sleep and waking.

“Jareth…” she breathed, the name slipping past her parted lips like a breathless surrender.

He froze. Never in his  life had his own name sounded so devastating on someone’s tongue. It curled through his mind like a sultry, intoxicating mantra that sent a jagged spike of heat straight to his core. A heavy, desperate ache pooled between his hips, hardening into a tight demand. He shifted his weight as he fought to cover up the undeniable physical toll she was taking on him.

“Have trust” he murmured, his voice low, eyes heavy-lidded and fixed on her with an almost predatory intensity.  “Can you do that for me?”

She tried to speak, but nothing came out. Her eyelids drooped, and a little sound mixed between a moan and a sigh escaped her. 

And he thought, with a fierce, aching certainty, that she would be the death of him.

She groaned again, stirring almost uncomfortably.  Her hand slid from his hair to the grass. His chest sank feeling the absence of her tender contact. 

“...dreaming…” she mumbled, the first half of her sentence inaudible.

“Shh, don’t wake,” he said it like a secret, trying to restrain the urgency he was feeling. 

“You’re safe here, you don’t have to think about anything now.”

She hummed, letting his voice wrap over her like a velvety comforter, a voice she’d secretly loved since the first time she heard it back at home. 

Home.

She wasn’t home, she knew that. 

“...not home,” she muttered, her voice roughened into a rasp.

The rasp in her voice stirred something in Jareth; he’d never heard such a unique human sound before.

“You are home, Y/n.” He pressed his face into the crook of her neck. 

“I don’t feel like I’m home, but,” her voice softened. He loved it–she could tell. “I do like it here.” 

A soft chuckle of relief escaped him. 

Y/n’s heart stirred at the sound. Could someone so calculated and deliberate as himself really betray a crack of vulnerability? 

She knitted her brows together at the thought, something was off, but why was she so comfortable?

Too comfortable.

“But I shouldn't be here.” She declared,trying to regain some strength. Oddly so, there was still some invisible factor holding her down. 

Jareth wrapped his arms around her hip and tugged her toward him so that her head was now against his chest. She froze at the thrumming of his heartbeat–a rather fast heartbeat it was. 

“Why,” she croaked, “do you want me to stay?”

Jareth held his breath. He didn’t dare answer, because he didn’t know the answer. He loosened his grip on her hip. His eyes flickered away momentarily. 

Suddenly, the warmth of her body disappeared as she sat up in realization. Her eyes were wide open, eyebrows furrowed deeper than before. 

“It’s a trick, like the peach,” she said.

A faint ticking of a clock started in the air. Jareth grabbed her wrist gently but with a sense of urgency. “Does it matter? You’re safe,” his voice stayed in control, but she could sense its pleading edge.

Y/n pulled her hand away and stood, her body coming back to life as though reborn, strength flooding in. She firmly turned to him.

He stood too, and they faced each other like old foes. 

“You gave that locket to Hoggle, the same way you forced him to give Sarah that oeach,” she scoffed, “how stupid do you think I am?”

The ticking grew louder. The opal on her chest ignited a warm glow. The whole forest shuddered around them–shaking like a snow globe. Light fractured, clovers withered into a crumpling brown , the petals turned to dust. The luscious green grass now yellows and browns with the dry brush of death. The air warped as shadows clouded the once bright sky as if a storm was erupting. 

She glared at Jareth, sharp. “You can never make me forget my purpose,” she snapped. “You manipulative coward!”

Suddenly, the locket shattered into pieces, her chest bare to the air. Jareth didn’t move, his mouth drawn tight. And then the world spun again, the illusion breaking apart, light swallowing her as she exhaled, steady and sure.

Y/n found herself sprawled on the grass again, but this time the warm wetness of her furry friend’s tongue greeted her cheeks instead of sunlight. Blinking awake, she saw her two friends hovering anxiously above. She sprang up as if broken free of a spell, her heart racing uncontrollably. 

“It was a trick, a dream, like the peach, he—” she gasped, words tumbling out as her chest heaved and tears threatened to spill.

“Curse you, Jareth!” Hoggle growled, glaring at the shattered opal necklace on the ground. Its light was gone, leaving it empty and lifeless, no clock to be found.

“How long was I asleep?” Y/n choked out,  blinking away her tears. 

“It wasn’t long, perhaps twenty minutes,” D/n said slowly, “we tried waking you multiple ways, but you were long gone.”

Y/n looked down at D/n, stunned. “I was asleep for twenty minutes?” she restated. 

D/n nodded cautiously, bracing for Y/n’s  sudden  outburst. 

“Damnit!” she shouted into the forest, as if the trees would take offense.

“The opal broke, too.” Hoggle gulped nervously. 

“That means there's no way to track time at all, but we still know the direction of the castle,” Y/n said, trying to muster up hope. 

“And by my remembrance, we have…probably a bit over three hours left,” she said. 

“But the castle looks so far.” D/n groaned.

“Things aren't always what they seem in this place,” Hoggle assured, “we may find a shortcut.”

Y/n drew a sharp breath, finally standing with her hands planted on her hips. The urgency coursing through her chased away any trace of fatigue.

“Y’all, we’re gonna have to run,” she blurted. 

D/n and Hoggle exchange glances, “All the way there?” they gasped in unison. 

Y/n shook her head, unable to think of any alternatives, “At least until we find something that’ll help us.”

Before they could second-guess, they were sprinting through the forest as if the world depended on it (well, technically it did). 

Trees blurred by, and the forest’s usual chatter of critters twisted into a single, unsettling hum.

They switched between sprints, jogs, and hurried strides, always keeping the river in sight.

Then, as if conjured by a miracle, a sight appeared before them.

A boat rested gracefully on the riverbank, nestled in a patch of lush green grass.

It was a simple river boat, its wood sanded into gentle curves that spoke of careful hands and patient craft.

Out of breath, they inspected the boat; the boards were clean but worn, their grain darkened where feet had once rested, where water had once pooled. Two simple oars lay crossed within it, their handles pale and smooth from touch, their blades still damp, catching stray glints of light.

Without a second thought, D/n climbed in, sniffing the inside. Hoggle gave the boat a testing shake, nodding at its sturdy build.

“Seems to be in good shape,” Y/n commented, hands on her hips trying to brace herself after such exertion.  

“Hoggle, help me push it to the river.” she ordered. 

Hoggle and Y/n moved to push the boat into the water, but a sharp voice cut through the air.

“Step away from my boat!”

D/n’s ears perked up, Y/n let her head drop with a frustrated sigh, and Hoggle flinched, turning toward the source of the voice.

The crystal danced with light between Jareth’s gloved fingers as he watched Y/n press her palm to the circular door, drawn toward its beckoning glow. His eyes tracked her every move until the sphere’s brilliance faded, leaving him alone with his own reflection.

A goblin barged in without warning, peering up at his master with wide, submissive eyes.

“Sire!” It squeaked, “The lady captive requests his majesty’s presence over supper.” 

Jareth arched a brow, a sly glint in his eye. “Does she now?”

He spun the crystal in his palm until it vanished. “Then we shall entertain our guest.”

Jareth strode through the castle’s narrow corridors, stopping before a pair of mahogany doors that guarded a smaller dining room. Without hesitation, he swept them open.

Flickering torches lined the dining room walls, while a chandelier of dim candles hovered above a sandstone table laden with a lavish charcuterie board, a black cauldron of soup, and platters of fresh bread. The air brimmed with the aroma of wine and spiced broth. Goblins stood rigid, twitching with every echo of Jareth’s boots on stone.

At the far end sat M/n, freshly bathed and dressed as instructed, though her rigid posture betrayed her nerves. She wore a crisp white blouse under a black corset, black leather pants, and flats—a clumsy attempt at civility.

Jareth surveyed the goblins with a cool gaze before flicking his hand to dismiss them. He settled across from M/n, lounging back with arms folded in effortless command.

M/n leaned forward, voice trembling between fear and authority. “Where’s my daughter?”

“Ah,” Jareth sighed, tilting his head, one of his hands goes up to cover his mouth in thought, “you mean the one who’s the reason you’re here?”

M/n furrowed her eyebrows, “What are you talking about?”

Jareth offered no reply, only studied her face with a thoughtful gaze edged in hollowness.

“Hello?” M/n pushed irritably, crossing her arms. 

A sly smirk played at the king’s lips as his gaze dropped to the plate before him.

“Where’s my daughter?” She questioned once more, her face twisted in angst and worry. 

“It should be quite obvious…” Jareth teased, the smirk fading as he toyed idly with his shirt cuff.

“I’m not playing whatever twisted game you’re playing!” 

Jareth raised a brow, “But you’re already seated at my table.”

“Where is she?” she pushed once more, her eyes never leaving him.

“She’s safe,” he finally answered. “For now.”

“What do you mean by  ‘for now’?” M/n roared, slapping her palms against the table. 

“You demand," he hummed, “yet you never stop to ask why she wished you away.”

M/n snorted, "wished me away? She wouldn’t do that—not on purpose! I know my daughter.”

Jareth’s expression softened into mock pity, “young ones often don’t know the weight of their words.”

He picked up the cup of wine that was next to his plate and twirled it in his hand lazily, his eyes never leaving it.

“They speak, and the world bends for them… one way or another.” 

M/n tilted her head, not buying into Jareth’s dodge,  “Why would she do this? Certainly, it was an accident.” 

She swallowed hard, her confidence crumbling as she stared down at her plate, then back up at the Goblin King.

“It was an accident, right?"  She asked, leaning in for reassurance.

Jareth set the cup aside, his gaze snapping to meet M/n’s eyes. He studied her intently, elbow propped on the chair’s arm.

“That,” he said, resting his temple against his fingers, “is a labyrinth all on its own, isn't it?” 

His lips twisted into a half-smile, equal parts contemplation and venom.

“I don't understand. I’ve had her well under discipline. She loves me, she respects me, just as I love and respect her.” M/n defended. 

“Discipline.”  The king spat the word as if it tasted of pity and bile.

“A convenient disguise,” he murmured, unimpressed.

“It’s not a disguise, your majesty. Parents are to raise their children in discipline rooted in love. Love above all.” She said triumphantly. 

“Love,” he repeated faintly, still looking at the woman across from him, but his mind went elsewhere. 

“Just fear me, love me…”

He blinked, never wavering in his commanding composure.

“What a pretty shield you carry.” He mocked. 

He reclined, crossing one leg over the other, hands folded with calculated ease.

A chill raced up M/n’s spine, not from allure but from the cold intensity of his stare.

“I give her stability,” she insisted, "I give her structure–”

“You give her limits and expectations,” he corrected, his gaze darkening as if he were watching a flame flicker out.

“And you truly believe she does not choke on it?”

M/n furrowed her eyebrows, coloring his words as nonsense, “Who are you to tell me how she feels? You don’t even know our relationship. In fact, you probably don’t even know yourself.” 

Jareth closed his eyes and let out a bitter chuckle, his posture sagging as the sound rippled through him.

His gaze remained down momentarily, his expression unreadable, “Oh, I know more than you think.”

“Words spoken within the heart carry tremendous weight here. They shape paths. Create doors. Lead to dark places.”

Jareth’s gaze locked onto hers, his voice laced with a morbid confession.

“And her heart wanted you gone.”

M/n almost shot to her feet—

He lifted a single finger, and she froze in place.

“Sit.” 

She sank back into her seat before realizing she had obeyed.

“That’s a lie.” She croaked. 

“Then why is she running my labyrinth while you sit here bound in the chains you thought were devotion?”

Fingers trembling on the chair’s edge, M/n blurted, “What is she doing? Where is she in this labyrinth?”

“She’s learning,” he said simply.

“Learning  what?”

His gaze sharpened, as if he were peering straight into her soul.

"The art of being unwatched."

He left the last part unsaid—

‘…by you,’

But the silence carried it all the same.

A faint glow flickered in his palm, the crystal restless to reveal what he would not say aloud.

Beyond the circular door that Y/n chose, the three entered a corridor glowing with golden light between obsidian walls. The whole place felt alive and beautiful. Y/n ran her hand along the wall and was surprised—it gave under her touch, soft and springy like memory foam, then slowly sprang back. The smooth, flawless surface shimmered, making her want to keep touching it, entranced by both its strange comfort and its beauty.

“Do you think this will lead to the castle?” She pondered, letting her eyes drink the light before her like some forbidden secret. 

D/n sniffed around, “I wish I could say.”

Hoggle pressed on in silence, eyes darting around as a sinking feeling pooled in his chest. The presence of his ruler seemed to loom over them, heavy and ominous.

The walls seemed to respond positively to Y/n’s fingertips which brushed the surface, molding to her touch. 

D/n frowned unpleasantly, “Oh boy, what is it now?”

Up ahead lay three tunnel paths.  Each letting out a soft wind, like an ushering whispers of forbidden secrets. 

“How about this,” she began with an exhale, “Let’s each take one, and the one that's safest we’ll holler, run back,  and choose.”

“But what if something happens to one of us, and it’s not safe?” D/n questioned.

Y/n shrugged, “It’s the labyrinth, we’ll find our way back to each other regardless.”

“ I suppose…” D/n quivered uncertainly.

Hoggle, suddenly feeling a bolt of boldness, said, “Let’s each take the one we’re closest to, Y/n you take the far left, D/n the middle, and I’ll take the right!” he pointed at each entrance as he was assigned.

Y/n and D/n hummed in agreement, and they each submerged into the open arms of each entrance, entering their dark embraces. 

Down Y/n’s path, this time the obsidian walls glittered, as its gold veins seemed to breathe, the tunnel was  pulsing with life. It felt more alive than the corridor before. 

“Mom is safe…”

Her eyes slightly widened hearing the hushed echo of those words .  The memory of her uttering them a while back came to her mind. 

“Mom is safe…”

A wave of relief swept through her, as if the labyrinth itself confirmed her words had become truth.

“Mom’s safe, it’s gonna be alright,” she affirmed to herself.

“Grow up.”

Y/n’s head whipped toward the sound—her mother’s voice, so close she could feel its breath on her neck, as if the words had been sneered right into her ear.

“Mom is safe…” the whispers mocked.

“Grow up.”

“Mom is safe.” 

“Grow up.”

The voice was no longer her mother's; it was a fluidity between something foreign and uncanny. Before she knew it, an array of voices started filling the space, causing y/n to stop in her tracks and look around hastily. Relief gave way to panic as she heard the eerie whispers turn into octaves of mockery and spite.

The final voice, her mother's through the phone, “Love you, bye,” echoed in the chambers before an abrupt wave of silence that chilled her to the bone, nearly letting out a whimper. 

That was the last thing she heard from her mom before Y/n hung up, never saying she loved her back.

A tidal wave of regret, guilt, sorrow, and stress crashed over her, threatening to drag her under. Yet, even as her body threatened to give out from sheer overwhelm, she forced herself forward. The emotions yanked at her heartstrings so fiercely she nearly doubled over, nausea rising. Desperate to scream, cry, or lash out in anguish, she gathered every ounce of that pain and turned it into the fuel that kept her moving.

But why was this so difficult? This was supposed to be a fantasy world that was strange, now it started to feel like the backrooms of a thriller that mirrored trauma and played tricks. This wasn’t the Labyrinth presented in the film, and it certainly wasn’t exuding a whimsical feel in the book. This didn’t feel like Alice in Wonderland either— it was more peculiar and jarring. Y/n couldn’t quite put her finger on what this event was, and it frustrated her all over again to the point of wanting to scream into the walls. Not that anyone would care to answer, this was a cruel work. 

Suddenly, the gold glow in the cracks surged, pulsating and swirling in wild, unpredictable patterns Y/n could barely comprehend.

“Damnit,” she cursed, stopping in her tracks and leaning against the wall, “There’s too much going on.”

She let her head fall against the obsidian wall, which cushioned her like memory foam. Eyes clamped shut, she was startled by a glow so bright it pierced her eyelids.

She slowly opened her eyes, still squinting at the lights intensity. Her heart palpitated in anticipation, already bracing for whatever was to appear before her. 

The golden light spilled from the black walls, merging into a shimmering silhouette before finally fading. 

And there he stood: the same lithe figure radiating flamboyance and smugness. His outfit, though capeless, glittered with intricate designs. Those familiar eyes bored into hers with twisted amusement, his face unsmiling.

Jareth lounged against an obsidian pillar, his gaze sweeping over her from head to toe.

“What a pity.” He sighed. 

Y/n, not even bothering to fix her exhausted stance, muttered, “What are you getting at?”

“Did you think I wouldn't notice which door you chose?” He pointed out dryly. 

“And?” Y/n muttered, closing her eyes again in exhaustion. 

“Circle. Balance. How mature of you,” he hummed mockingly. 

She huffed, shoving herself off the wall. “Appearing every time I’m in a cave by myself is pretty predatory. I’m here to save my mom, not get stalked by you.”

Jareth  raised a brow, unmoved.

“Keep telling yourself that.  Every step you take is more for yourself.” He said calmly.

“You don’t know me.”

Jareth inhaled sharply—irritated, almost offended.

“Foolish girl. We’ve already made it clear that you hate being treated like a child. That is why you came running here.”

He pushed off the pillar with a bitter chuckle, advancing toward her slowly. 

Y/n furrowed her brows, “Wrong. I’m fixing a mistake I made. This has nothing to do with being treated like an adult.” 

Jareth scoffed,  his voice slipped into a low, velvety register. “When will you learn? This is my labyrinth. And I can never be wrong.”

“And when will you learn to leave me alone?” Y/n shot back.

The floor shifted beneath her, subtle but insistent, sliding her closer to him.

She blinked, suddenly only inches from him. She met his gaze, her face unreadable as she fought to remain firm.

“Careful,” Jareth murmured, eyes glinting, “the labyrinth listens.”

“It likes you… perhaps too much.”

A flare of heat twisted in her stomach, she blinked a few times  as she forced herself to ignore it. It was quiet between them for a moment as  their eyes locked in a silent clash of wills. 

“So, what is balance to you?” she asked, trying to recenter herself.

“Being truthful about what it is you want.” Jareth answered bluntly. 

The lightning speed of that answer ignited heat between them, a forbidden pressure building in the air.

She tried to step back, but the ground held her down.

“You think I want this?” she scoffed. “To run your labyrinth because of some stupid mistake I made?”

“No,” Jareth replied flatly, tilting his head with a flash of superiority, “I think you need it.”

A smirk flickered at the corner of his mouth.

“A girl like you craves resistance. You’d be bored without someone pushing back.”

Her lips parted in disbelief. “You think this is fun for me?”

He began to circle her, his predatory scrutiny disguised as mere observation.

“Isn’t it?” he countered, “mortals love their struggle. It makes them feel alive.”

He slipped behind her, voice chilled against her spine.

“I’m waiting for the moment when proving yourself starts feeling like punishment.”

“For fuck’s sake, Plato,”  Y/n huffed, twirling on her heels to meet his eyes once again, “I’ve had it with the philosophical riddles.”

“Plato?” he echoed, nearly chuckling. “How flattering.”

Y/n stayed silent, a sour expression on her face. Ignoring the drop in her stomach as he studied her.

“What a pity, you lash out when cornered,” he purred, his voice velvet and mocking. “How very revealing.”

Y/n opened her mouth to retort, but Jareth silenced her with a single raised finger.

“You mistake speech for power.” He said. 

“Yet here you are.” Y/n spat out bitterly, her eyes scanned him in distaste. 

Jareth glared at her from beneath his blond mane, something unreadable flickering in his eyes, like a silent curse.

He started to inch toward her. Y/n attempted to step back, but the ambiance was so thick around them that her body betrayed her, and she found herself stepping closer to him as well.

The labyrinth listens.

“I know what the labyrinth does to people like you.” Jareth began. “It torments them until they break.”

Y/n released a shaky breath she was trying so hard to hold back. She  locked eyes with him only to flicker her gaze, just once, to his lips. Hyper aware of her facial expression, she frowned, trying to ignore the fact that their faces were surprisingly close.

 “And what does it do to you?” she challenged, lifting her chin slightly.

“It reminds me that they never learn.”  The king spoke.

“Sarah learned.” Y/n countered.

Jareth’s expression flickered as the infamous memory he did not appreciate flooded his mind.

“You have no power over me.”

“But will you?” he asked, something sharpened in his expression, too quick to name.

He leaned in, slow and deliberate, until she felt the ghost of his breath brush her jaw.

“Careful, Y/n,” he murmured,  his  voice like a forbidden secret wrapped in velvet .

“Your gaze is a dangerous thing to let wander.”

Without hesitation, Y/n recoiled, shoving Jareth away before sprinting down the corridor. Her blood thundered in her ears, and her vision narrowed on the darkness ahead. She didn’t care about her breath or the obsidian dust staining her shoes—only that she was putting distance between herself and him.

She finally reached the end, searching frantically for her companions.

“D/n? Hoggle?” she called, her heart sinking as only silence answered.

“D/n! Hoggle!” she shouted, forcing her voice to sound bold despite the fear creeping in.

She started pacing around in the nothingness, tempted to grip her fingers at the root of other hair and tear it from her scalp. Her body was far from relaxed, nervous system going haywire. jaw clenched, and shoulders stiff. At every corner, she met a dark abyss; it was perhaps another oubliette. She didn’t know how much time she had left, but she knew it wasn't long. 

“D/n! Hoggle!”

Deep within the caves, Hoggle scurried toward the sound of his friend’s desperate cries.

“I’m coming, Y/n–” Hoggle said, venturing forth where he felt was best. 

Suddenly, he collided face-first with a hard knee and tumbled backward.

Hoggle looked up to find his majesty glaring down at him, far from pleased.

“Your Majesty! What a nice surprise.” Hoggle squeaked, his enthusiastic tone masking his fear.

“Higgle–” Jareth began.

“Hoggle!” The dwarf corrected with a grunt.

“If I remember correctly, we’ve stood in this very position before. Haven’t we?”

Hoggle’s throat bobbed. “Er—what position would that be?”

“A position,” Jareth said, voice lowered, “in which you betray your king.”

“Your majesty, I would never betray–”

“Come now, Hogbrain,” Jareth drawled. “Losing your wits over another girl?”

“I ain't lost my head, I was simply accompanying her,”  Hoggle said in defense. 

“We both know where accompanying her will take you,” Jareth warned, letting the implication hang.

Hoggle lowered his head in shame, “The bog of eternal stench…”

Jareth scoffed, turning half away from his subject in disdain.

“All that girl cares about is proving herself; she wouldn't  be loyal to someone of the likes of you,” he sneered, almost childishly.

The dwarf mustered up the courage to say,  “But Sarah, she-”

Jareth flinched as if struck, then turned to face Hoggle fully, kneeling to his level and yanking him close by the collar.

“This labyrinth is not hers, Hogswart,” he said, each word promising, but razor sharp.

“All labyrinths shift with the heart that enters them. And your foolish hopes…”

His eyes burned with resentment, jealousy, and an ancient ache.

“Will only crown you Prince of the Land of Stench.”

Hoggle swallowed hard, unable to meet his gaze.

Jareth released him with a contemptuous flick of his hand, dismissive as if tossing aside a disappointing toy.

Then, with his voice almost mocking in its softness,  “What now? Hoping she’d kiss you?”

A cruel smile curled at the edge of his mouth as he let out a bitter snort.

Hoggle shook his head, “You know I wouldn't wish such a thing.”

Jareth pursed his lips and waved his fingers. An ornate locket shimmered into existence in his gloved hand—a silver chain with an opal gemstone nestled between two silver clasps.

Hoggle frowned. “What is it?”

“A token,” Jareth said flatly. “A gift. For the girl.”

Hoggle’s face pinched. “I don’t think she’d want nothin’ from you.”

“No?” Jareth countered with a raise of a brow. 

He dangled the locket by its chain, letting it sway hypnotically. He then underhand tossed it for Hoggle to catch.

“Give it to her. Tell her it will… remind her of home.”

Hoggle looked ill,  as if it might scorch his skin.

“And if I don’t?” he whispered.

Jareth narrowed his eyes.

“Very unfortunate things will happen.”

Hoggle froze. He knew what harm Jareth was capable of, and the harm wouldn't just be towards Hoggle himself. 

The Goblin King straightened, brushing invisible dust from his gloves.

“Do be careful, Hoggle,” he added lightly, brushing past him.

“I’d hate for you to end up in the Bog again.”

Hoggle turned around in the direction he had gone, but the king was long gone. 

Hoggle trudged along the winding cavern path, muttering anxiously to himself.

“Shouldn’ be doin’ this… shouldn’ be anywhere near that girl…”

He clutched the locket the Goblin King had thrust upon him. How could such a magnificently crafted piece be so dangerous?

Hoggle had changed over the years, shaped quietly by the sweetness of Sarah that he never forgot. He hadn’t heard from her in a long time—nor had anyone in the Underground. It stung, but he told himself it was time for her to grow up. He would never admit it, but she remained his beacon of hope; he’d never found anyone like her again. He didn’t want to repeat what had happened to Sarah, and it still ate at him that he’d been so easily manipulated into failing to do what was right. Unfortunately, even after all these decades, Jareth was the one thing that still terrified him.

Hoggle had been watching Y/n more closely. She shared traits with Sarah: witty, determined, strong‑willed, a touch of know‑it-all, but there was something else he couldn’t place. Y/n carried deeper contradictions, as if another voice whispered to her that no one else could hear. 

Not to mention, he still couldn’t comprehend how she knew about Sarah and what book she read that involved her in it. 

Boy, was she in for a load of questions once the worst is over.

Hoggle’s  thoughts were interrupted by a sudden bark that echoed off the rock walls.

“D/n…?” he whispered cautiously.

The creature bounded toward him, tail wagging as if the world held no troubles. A few specks of obsidian dust on the paws, tongue hanging out, eyes bright and hopeful. The world didn't deserve such innocent loyal creatures. 

“Hoggle, there you are!  Did you hear Y/n’s call as well?”  it panted.

Hoggle nodded firmly, “I did hears her call, but I can’t find her.”

“Good thing we have each other to find her; it was getting eerie back there,” D/n said.

Hoggle hummed in agreement, fingers tightening around the locket in his rough hands.

The dog tilted its head, eyes flicking to the dwarf’s clenched fist.

“What?” Hoggle quivered nervously.

D/n leaned in, lowered its head, and nudged his closed fist with gentle insistence.

“What’s in your hand?” D/n asked. 

“It’s–oh, um..!” Hoggle stuttered. 

But D/n nudged insistently, “Could it help us? Must be important.”

Hoggle caught the hope etched in D/n’s voice.

Ah, the dog trusted him. 

Hoggle’s stomach dropped. This felt worse than any Bog threat. 

He slowly opened his fist, revealing the locket glinting in his trembling hand.

“Ah, what a beautiful artifact? Where did you get it?” D/n beamed with an enthusiastic wag of the tail. 

Hoggle felt sweat prickle at his brow. “I found it on the ground, on my way here.”

“Ah,” D/n said with a glint in their eyes, “it would look beautiful on Y/n, I’m sure it would make her feel better.”

“And…you’re absolutely right!” Hoggle exclaimed with fake enthusiasm.

Hoggle’s eyes darted down the tunnel; he could feel the sneering threat from Jareth pulling at his chest. 

“Ohhh, blast it all! I can’t give it to her…” he muttered again.

With trembling fingers, he slipped the chain around D/n’s neck.

“…but you can.”

As the clasp clicked shut, the locket shimmered faintly, as if recognizing its new bearer.

D/n barked happily. 

Hoggle had hoped the burden would lift, but instead it pressed heavier on his chest like an unclean spirit.

“Let’s venture forth, shall we?” D/n said triumphantly.

As Y/n approached the entrance of the labyrinth, she scanned her surroundings carefully. The breeze was gentle, almost as if someone were blowing lightly in her face. In contrast, the atmosphere was thick with uneasiness, making her feel as if she were being watched. Although she was in the labyrinth, she knew not to expect it to unfold like it did in the movie; she would have to rely on her own judgment and intuition. 

The sinking feeling in her gut grew louder as she dreaded this run to be harsher than it seemed.

The large, enigmatic doorways creaked open, and without hesitation, she stepped inside. Instead of finding a horizontal passage as she had expected, she was greeted by a long, straight path ahead. It resembled a more morbid version of the film, with a narrow pathway flanked by towering, decaying bricks covered in mold and cracks. The ground was littered with dead branches and debris, adding to the sense of desolation.

Y/n scrunched her nose in disgust. It reeked of something worse than death. 

D/n whimpered, clearly affected by the smell as well. 

They ventured forth, Y/n steeped on fallen tree branch debris and stepped over logs. The sky was bleak and overcast making the path ahead of them seem never-ending.

She assumed that there would be a wall to walk through, so she outstretched her hands cautiously, only to feel the cold harsh surface of nothingness. 

She continued onward, only to feel that something was off.

The path was getting narrower, and the air started becoming thin. Y/n’s chest began to heave up and down, stopping suddenly to pick up D/n and scooping it into her arms. 

“What the hell?” she questioned now strolling with caution. She whipped her head back only to be met with a dead end just inches from her face. 

Her mouth fell open in disbelief, shocked that she had been unknowing that the path was closing behind her this entire time. Her heart began to lodge in her throat, adrenaline coursing through her veins. 

The sudden humidity of the air made her breathing  more labored. She clutched her fist to her chest in panic. Not only was the space smaller, but the air around her started to feel more humid, nearly making it harder to breathe.

D/n nudged its nose against her leg in comfort, “We’ll be alright,  Y/n, just keep going.”

Y/n jolted in surprise at the little voice from below and looked down in confusion. Her gaze was met with the soft round eyes of her dog’s.

Y/n relaxed a bit, “I shouldn't even be surprised.”

“Let’s move forward, we’ll find a way out, even if it’s tough right now.” D/n said, turning to face the narrow path ahead. 

Letting out a nervous chuckle, Y/n followed behind, her claustrophobia at its peak. She pressed herself against the wall to avoid feeling trapped, glancing back from time to time to see the dead end still looming closely behind her. Sweat continued to drip down her body, and her breathing grew heavier. She peered at D/n with envy, who walked through the tight space with ease.

She stopped in her tracks, “Wait, we’re taking this for granted. There’s gotta be a way out.” 

“Whatever do you mean?” D/n asked, also stopping to look up at her.

“Nothing is always what it seems in this place.” She replied, reciting the worm’s words from the movie.  Turning back to the dead end and reaching her hand through it. 

To her surprise, there was no brick stopping her hands. 

“D/n follow me, I found another way!” She breathed in relief.

In the midst of walking through the wall, the only clear way was right, but it was a different vibe than the previous one. It was maze-like with green bushes all around it, and a sky so clear you’d think it was a different dimension.

“This way.” Y/n declared as her and D/n ventured forth beyond the green.

“Being in the labyrinth means we need to be spontaneous,” Y/n commented, turning a corner. 

“And by spontaneously do you mean mindlessly turning whichever corner you wish rather than thinking strategically?” D/n retorted. 

“Thinking logically in such a place won’t do,” Y/n replied, coming to a halt, “It seems like we’re not getting anywhere when in fact, we are.”  She looked left, seeing that there are other paths to venture in.

“One hundred and one…one hundred and two…haha! Gotcha.” A croaky voice boasted. 

“I hear someone.” D/n pointed out.

“Me too,” Y/n responded, “it’s close I can feel it.”

A spraying noise, “one hundred and three..!”

Y/n's eyes widened in realization, her mouth became agape once more, and she leaned forward. 

“Hoggle.”

“Hm?” D/n questioned, clearly confused. 

“This way.” Y/n instructed while immediately making her way towards the spraying noises and counting.

“One hundred and ten..! Hah!” The voice was getting louder. Y/n’s body pulsated with anticipation and eagerness as they made their way toward Hoggle.

He was killing fairies with spray once they approached him. The fairies gasped in dismay as they got attacked with the poisonous chemicals. Y/n watched as Hoggle triumphed during each kill, not that she blamed him, they bit people. 

“Hello, Hoggle.” Y/n greeted from behind him.

The dwarf flinched in surprise and turned around, his gaze immediately landing on the taller girl and her companion before him. He scrutinized her, taking in the slightly disheveled hair, the dried blood splotches decorating her skin, and her dewy visage. Her eyes twinkled with mischief  once she had called his name, leaving him to wonder how she had known who he was right off the bat.

Yet, he couldn't shake the thought that she was strikingly beautiful.

Hoggle let out a sigh laced with both disappointment and irritation. He sensed she might not make it, and it pained him to think that such a beautiful existence could be fading away.

“Oh, it’s you.” He huffed out, returning to his normal killing spree. 

“I don't blame you for killing those things,” Y/n commented, referring to the fairies, "they bite.”

Hoggle stopped, turning around again with a sour look, “How did you know that, huh?”

“I’m a smart gal,” Y/n stated with a shrug. 

“Well,” Hoggle began spraying yet another fairy, “you're clearly not if you’re snoopin’ around here.”

“Look, man, I don't have a choice.” Y/n said in defeat. 

Hoggle stopped spraying and gave her a glare,making sure he got his point across. "Everyone has a choice, and you chose to be dumb.”

D/n sneezed.

Y/n rolled her eyes, not fazed by the Goblin's audacity, “Well, if you help me through this labyrinth, I’ll prove that I’m not ‘dumb’”

Hoggle brought  his hands to his hips, “and what makes you think I’ll help anyone of the likes of you?”

“Oh please, you help everyone who runs the labyrinth, don’t act brand new.” Y/n retorted. 

“Well, only under certain circumstances… but it’s been nearly a decade since anyone has last run the labyrinth.”

“Certain circumstances, really?” Y/n deadpanned unamused.

Hoggle nodded, looking at the girl suggestively which immediately registered to Y/n that he wanted something. 

She furrowed her eyebrows. What could this short stack possibly want from a girl who’d just been dragged through the pillars of hell in an hour and a half?

The image of Sarah’s plastic bracelet flashed into her mind.

Y/n glanced at her wrists and hands, only to find them empty. She often forgot to put on her bracelets. An idea sparked within her. 

“Alright, Hoggle, I’ll make you a deal.” She stepped closer and knelt to his level, locking eyes with him.

“Once I reach Jareth’s castle, I’ll give you something of his.”

Hoggle jumped back, shock registering in his eyes. 

“Have you gone mad? Do you know—”

“Look, getting to the castle means I’ve defeated the Labyrinth, which means I can do whatever I want.” 

Hoggle gulped. “I’m not so sure about that… Jareth is—”

“He’s not scary,” Y/n bluffed, “there’s gotta be something of his that you want.” 

Hoggle hesitated but then nodded, although reluctantly. 

“Then it’s settled,” Y/n said, standing back up. “Alright, Hoggle, let’s get to it because I have nine hours left, so…” 

“Nine already?” Hoggle frowned. “You’re not the brightest,” he grumbled. 

“No, Jareth gave me ten hours instead of thirteen because he’s a jackass,” Y/n said with an eye roll. 

Hoggle jumped again, his eyes widening. “Ten? You must’ve done something to upset him.” 

Y/n shrugged nonchalantly. “Well, no…” 

“Alright, follow me,” he grunted, abandoning his sprayer as he started walking. “Tell me the rest on our way.” 

Y/n and D/n followed right after him, eventually walking side by side.

As they journeyed, Y/n, Hoggle, and D/n chatted about the events leading up to their convoluted adventure through the Labyrinth. 

“She wished her mom away, can you believe that?” D/n shook his head in disbelief. 

“It was a joke. Of course I didn’t mean it,” Y/n replied, “you should know that by now.”

“Jareth has other plans,” Hoggle retorted, a hint of stubbornness in his tone. 

Despite the banter, a gnawing fear about what Y/n’s mother might be enduring tugged at her stomach. 

Jareth was cruel, but he couldn’t be that cruel, could he? 

They continued walking and chatting for what felt like twenty minutes until finally coming upon a wooden door.

“Uh, why is there a door in the middle of the path?” Y/n asked, tilting her head slightly. 

D/n shrank back, uncertainty etched on its face. “I don’t trust this.” 

“Me neither,” Y/n agreed, voice low. 

Hoggle sighed, walking toward the door. “You see, the Labyrinth is full of surprises. This might just lead to the castle.”

Y/n shook her head, already calling his bluff. “No the hell it’s not. You haven’t seen anything like this.” 

Hoggle fumbled for words. “N-no… but we have to be open-minded." 

Inching closer, Y/n shook her head dismissively. “Whatever, just open the door and see what’s inside first.” 

Without hesitation, Hoggle reached for the knob, on his tiptoes, and pulled it open to reveal a tunnel lined with bricks and torches. 

“Wow, not sketchy at all,” Y/n said, deadpan. 

“We’ve been on this route for almost an hour; let’s give it a go. There’s always a way out, after all,” D/n reassured. 

Eight hours. That was all that was left before the fate of Y/n’s life—and her mother’s—would be decided.

What if she were being tortured, tied to a post, humiliated, spat on? What if she were enslaved, starved behind rusty bars in a dungeon, or worse, beaten?

Y/n swallowed another wave of emotion in her throat, her breath growing shaky as she peered into the tunnel beyond the wooden doorframe, her tear-stricken eyes fixated on her mother.

“I won’t cry,” she whispered to herself, “Mom is safe. It is my wish that she is safe and being treated with care.”

“Mom is safe.” 

Unbeknownst to her, the words slipped louder than intended, echoing through the stillness of the atmosphere. A gust of wind suddenly washed over her, and Y/n’s expression shifted from mild worry to steely determination.

Without another word, she charged forward, unwilling to wait any longer.

Deep within the twisted corridors of the Labyrinth, the goblin king lounged on his throne, exuding his usual nonchalant power. His legs sprawled wide, the black shirt he wore was carelessly undone revealing his pendant.  His gaze, sharp and penetrating, remained fixed on the swirling images within the crystal ball, which danced beneath the practiced motions of his leather-clad fingers.

But then, everything changed. When Y/n stepped into view through the looming archway of that foreboding door, an electric tension crackled in the air. His lips tightened into a thin line as the atmosphere shifted palpably, signaling her arrival with an undeniable force.

He shifted in his chair uncomfortably. 

He was so engrossed in the dance of the ball that he barely heard the soft footsteps of one of his goblin subjects as they entered the room. 

“Sire?” the goblin called out, repeating the word until Jareth finally snapped out of his trance.

“What do you want?” Jareth replied, irritation lacing his voice.

“The lady captive… she said she hungry—”

“Feed her,” Jareth commanded, cutting him off with a wave of his hand. “Ensure she’s bathed and give her something decent to wear. Now, go.” His tone was sharp and clipped, as if the words were driven by some unseen force, each one sharper than the last.

With a sudden burst of energy, the goblin burst through the door, slamming it shut behind him. Jareth slumped deeper into his seat, his gaze fixated on the three figures in the ball, his expression devoid of any amusement. He silently calculated that Hoggle wouldn’t be doing what he was supposed to do, which meant he had to twist the labyrinth into something far more challenging and unpredictable. Abandoning the script entirely, Jareth grinned to himself—after all, where was the fun in playing by the rules?

He tilted his head back, trying to focus on the young woman in the ball, seemingly unfazed by the unsettling atmosphere of the tunnel. He studied her face; it was evident she wasn’t keen on revealing much emotion, yet there was something in her presence that made him grip the ball tighter. Shifting in his seat, he felt an unfamiliar tension as he examined her eyebrows, furrowing slightly above her wispy lashes that framed her eyes. But what was most intriguing about her eyes,was the way they surveyed her surroundings with such attention.

Her plump lips, slightly parted as she spoke in a low, raspy voice—was she parched? His attention drifted down to her hips, watching how they moved with an effortless grace that was impossible to ignore. For a moment, he lost himself in that rhythm before forcing his gaze back to her face. A quiet frustration bubbled beneath the surface and he let out a grunt; he was alone and had already commanded the goblins to tidy the castle. For he needed to be alone with his thoughts.

“Don’t go on!”

“Turn back while you still can!”

“This is not the way!”

“Take heed and go no further!”

“Beware…beware…!”

The three of them trudged through the grim tunnel, ignoring the talking walls that seemed to stare them down with their long, miserable faces. Cracked stone lined the path, with mushrooms and moss creeping in, the air heavy with the stench of decay. 

They did in fact encounter a dead rat or two upon arrival. 

“This place is horrible!” D/n exclaimed. 

“What did you expect? Flowers and rainbows?” Hoggle retorted, still leading them.  

“Sarah really was tough to get through this.” Y/n murmured. 

Hoggle stopped abruptly, and turned to face her curiously, “What about Sarah?" 

“I read a book about her, that's all.” Y/n shrugged.

“Oh? She writes books now?” Hoggle pondered aloud.

“No, I read a book about her.” Y/n corrected, but Hoggle had already turned away.

“Bah what do I know, she hasn't talked to us in years.”  he voiced in a way that didn't exude disinterest.

“Well, she’s probably all grown up now. Married, a job, maybe a few kids she hasn’t wished away yet,” Y/n joked lightly. 

Hoggle opened his mouth to say something,until  a glimmer of light flickered on the path to her right. “Let’s check it out—light at the end of the tunnel!” she declared, a spark of hope igniting within her. As they moved toward the light, it intensified, almost blinding. 

“Oh dear…” Hoggle trembled, shielding his eyes, while D/n suggested hesitantly, “Maybe we shouldn’t go on.” 

Y/n squinted, wishing for sunglasses as the brightness became unbearable. “This light is strange; something isn’t right,” she said, concerned threaded in her voice. 

Suddenly, the overwhelming brightness diminished, morphing into a smaller, focused glow that advanced toward them. 

Y/n instinctively reached for the knife in her pocket, gripping it as tension hung in the air. “What is this place?” she began, but her voice trailed off when she realized it wasn’t a threat, just a little worker goblin with a headlight. It paused in front of them, placed down two wooden buckets, and continued without a word, disappearing into the shadows. D/n approached the buckets first, quickly followed by Hoggle and Y/n.

Inside, they found fresh water, clear and inviting.

“Huh…” Y/n knelt closer, inspecting it for any signs of impurity. 

Finding none, she couldn’t resist—she lifted one bucket and dunked her face in, drinking deeply. D/n joined her, and even Hoggle took a sip from the other bucket. The water was icy cold and refreshing. 

Y/n emerged, gasping, eyes widened in surprise at how much she needed it. Content, she lifted the bucket of the remaining water, tilting her head back and allowing droplets trickle down her face as she caught her breath. 

“Man, I really needed that,” she sighed, thoroughly invigorated. 

She turned toward the path ahead, noticing a clear exit now in sight. “Weird, it was dark just a moment ago,” she observed. 

“Lucky us, right when I was about to complain,” D/n chimed in, tail wagging as they pressed forward.

Emerging from the tunnel, they found themselves in a maze with walls of turf stretched endlessly. The ground beneath them now neatly placed cobblestone. 

Y/n drew a sharp breath, turning to Hoggle, “You sure you know where we're going? Because it feels like we haven't made much progress.”

Hoggle raised his hands defensively. “Look, the labyrinth is different for everyone. I can't promise a way out” 

Y/n wanted to accuse him for lying, but so far, they haven’t experienced anything that was even from the Labyrinth book or film. 

Glancing back, she realized the entrance had vanished, leaving nothing but a solid wall of turf surrounding them on all sides.

“Are you kidding me?” she groaned, tossing her head back in exhaustion. 

“There’s gotta be some way out,” she muttered walking toward the turf and smacking her hand into all four sides and had no luck. 

“I don't know how else to think outside the box.” Y/n huffed hopelessly. 

She looked up, noticing that the turf around them was visibly growing, almost as if it were trying to enclose them.

“Well, you’re not thinking hard enough.” Hoggle retorted. 

“Why don’t you try thinking yourself, smartass?" Y/n shot back, closing her eyes momentarily as she tried to suppress her annoyance.

“And why didn’t you think before running this labyrinth?” Hoggle huffed defensively, glancing around for a way out

Y/n halted, her attention fixed on him as he shuffled nervously in the growing foliage. She marched over, grabbed him by the ear, and yanked him toward her. The dwarf yelped in surprise and pain. Nobody noticed the rustling of leaves, as if something around them were stretching.  

“Look, don’t get smart with me, because I’m not in the damn mood, " Y/n said, her voice growing sharp, "my mom’s life is in jeopardy,  I’m this close to losing my shit, and not even three hours have passed." She pinched her fingers together to emphasize her point. "So, unless you want me to snitch and have you thrown into the Bog, I suggest you cut it out!”  

A snap of a twig punctuated her words, tension thickening the air. Hoggle looked up, swallowing hard. He wanted to say something else, but reluctantly sighed in defeat instead. 

“Y/n try to breathe, we’re going to find m/n,” D/n urged, stepping closer, its soft loving gaze washed over the sting of tension like a balm. “Let's take a moment, an idea will come; I promise.”

‘Yeah, listen to the dog,”  Hoggle muttered loud enough for Y/n to hear. 

Y/n bit her cheek, ready to retort, but instead turned her gaze to the ground, noticing the faint rumbling beneath her feet, causing her stomach to churn. 

“Y/n…” D/n coaxed again,  its voice sending warmth through her chest. It eased her, so instead of acknowledging Hoggle, she started to pace around, pondering for a moment.

“D/n, this feels like some twisted joke.” Y/n sighed, her heartbeat quickened as reality settled in. All she wanted was to be safe at home, curled up next to her mom. 

Tears threatened to spill from her eyes, yet her expression remained stoic; "I shouldn't have wished my mom away, I’m so conflicted.” She whispered, her hand instinctively rising to cover her mouth. "I'm just so conflicted."

The turf only stretched, spiraling towards what looked like a final sealing at the very top. 

The ground rumbled again, the sensation sending a wave of panic through her as the turf advanced, finally shrouding them in darkness. 

Y/n felt a deep welding in her chest, like something was starting to ravage her ribs.

“Oh wow!” She exclaimed, mildly stomping her foot in frustration, a crack.

The floor gave way beneath them from the impact, sending them plummeting downward into the abyss.

They were enveloped in more darkness as they spiraled downward. There was no time to scream, not a moment to think. Her arms flailed helplessly in the void as gravity claimed her , searching for something solid to grasp. The world dissolved into an inky blackness, and all she could feel was the tug of fear tightening in her chest.

But then, the fall transformed, turning into a surreal drift, like floating through ink— slow, silent, suspended. Her senses dulled, muted by the heavy veil of nothingness, the weight in her chest grew, pulling her deeper into the unseen despair. 

Finally, she made contact with the ground, the impact was harsh and contrasting; cold cobblestones pressed against her palms and knees. Instinct kicked in, and she began to probe the surface for something real, anything real, amidst the unsettling void.

“D/n? Hoggle?” Her voice wavered, and her breathing echoed off the walls—if there were any. She couldn't tell up from down, her eyes felt blanketed by the pitch darkness, with silence so suffocating that it felt unnatural. 

A wet nose nudged against her knee, and she exhaled shakily. “D/n... good. You’re here.” Her fingers tangled in familiar fur, still shaking.

“Oh my gosh, this is an oubliette.” She murmured, her words being swallowed by the chasm of darkness.

“This is an oubliette; the labyrinth is full of them,” Hoggle's voice echoed in her mind from the movie.

Her heart raced. If she did not act now, she might be forgotten.

“Damn, I’m cooked.” She said, immediately getting up, only for her head to bump against a rough surface.

She grunted in pain, kneeling back down and rubbing the top of her head.

“Oh, so now things want to have borders.” She muttered through gritted teeth.

“Y/n, we should go straight; I sense something,” D/n said, still loyally by her side.

“It could be Hoggle,” Y/n assumed hopefully.

“It’s not.”

“Well, it’s too dark for there to be an exit.”

“You’re right; it’s something much more different, but I can’t tell if it’s good or bad.”

“I’ll trust you, D/n, lead the way.”

Y/n crawled forward, the ceiling so low that she had to stay on her hands and knees. Her shoulder brushed against the stone, and the space pressed in tighter with every inch.

“Keep going straight,” D/n murmured, uneasy.

Suddenly, the darkness blinked.

A pulse of soft, opaline light flickered ahead, small and impossibly still before vanishing.

“Did you see that?” Y/n whispered, squinting her eyes.

“See what—oh that?” 

The light appeared again, but it was a soft glow, a tiny circle floating in the abyss, strangely not illuminating anything around it.

The closer they got, the more it shimmered. Her face was haloed by its pale light, her lips parted and eyes wide in wonder at its reflection. Sweat darkened her cami strap as it slid off her shoulder; her fatigued triceps trembled. She reached out, her fingers grazing its warmth.

Before her senses could register what she was touching, the light shuddered and then burst.

A lash sliced through the dark like a blade, searing white-blue. The walls rippled, and the light stretched upward until it shaped itself into a figure before fading. 

Leaving him standing before her.

At that moment, the girl forgot how to breathe. Her veins dilated, and her bones vibrated.

She looked up at him while he looked down at her; the silence between them thrummed.

“You do have a talent for getting lost, don’t you?” Jareth said, finally, his voice laced with smoothness but tinged with disdain.

She blinked, trying to steady her voice. “You put me here.”

He tilted his head, amused. “Can’t take the blame for once, can you?”

She was quiet for a moment, completely oblivious to the fact that she was on her hands and knees, her strap off of one arm, skin dewy, and eyes that looked up at him as if she was expecting something. 

Jareth's nose twitched in faint disapproval. “Get up.”

With embarrassment and defiance, Y/n pushed herself to her feet, brushing the dust off her palms and adjusting her top. She stood her ground, feet planted in place.

Jareth began to circle her, slow and deliberate, his scent a mix of warmth and magic.

“Tell me, Y/n, how are you enjoying my labyrinth?" He challenged.

“I’m not answering that.” 

“It’s not a ‘piece of cake,’ then?” he teased, amusement dancing in his eyes. 

Y/n quirked an unimpressed brow. “Is it supposed to be?”

He stopped behind her, his voice dropped, “It’s whatever you make it out to be.”

A chill crawled along her spine as his breath brushed dangerously against her neck. “You mortals never learn when to stop struggling,’ he murmured, “You’re every bit as foolish as the last one who thought she could wish her way through me.”

Y/n inhaled slowly, closing her eyes to steady her racing heart. “It’s really not that deep. I just want to find my mom,” she managed, her voice wavering slightly. 

Jareth clicked his tongue in mock disappointment, stepping back to study her face, recognition flaring in his eyes. “Are you certain that’s all you desire?” 

It wasn’t just his words that ensnared her; it was the lingering touch of his gloved fingertips gliding gently across her shoulder that sent her heart racing. And then, just like that, he vanished. The sensation of his touch lingered like static that electrified her skin. 

“Y/n,” D/n’s voice broke the spell, soft and concerned. 

She remained silent, lost in the remnants of the moment. 

D/n nudged her with its wet nose, but she ignored it, lost in thought. 

Above them, a sudden sound disrupted the stillness: dirt shifting, tumbling, and then a hole opened in the ceiling. Warm light streamed down, and a wooden ladder creaked as it descended within reach. 

“Y/n, look!” D/n exclaimed, already dashing toward the new light. “Hoggle!”

As if she had no mind of her own, Y/n rushed to the ladder, gripping the rungs and looking up as well. "How did you get up there?" she called out.

"Well, it just so happened that I didn't fall through the ground," Hoggle replied, a little too cockily.

Y/n grabbed D/n and started climbing up using one arm. "Impossible! The whole ground collapsed," she pointed out.

Hoggle rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "Well, yeah, but I held on to something, which you could've done."

"Alright, dude," Y/n huffed, finally reaching the top and pulling both herself and D/n out of the hole. "It all happened so fast."

Y/n stood up, dusting herself off not noticing that Hoggle studied her for a moment before looking away, shifting uncomfortably.

The floors were adorned with spirals of brown bricks, their thickness bordered by overgrown maze turf. Embedded in the turf stood four imposing wooden doors, each intricately carved with sleeping wooden faces. Y/n continued to scan her surroundings, taking in the peculiar atmosphere that surrounded her. The doors, spaced out, loomed before her like a big trial. With just under seven hours left of this folly, she felt a growing impatience bubble within her.

"Which one should we approach first?" D/n inquired cautiously.

Y/n was instinctively drawn to the door diagonally to their left. It seemed to be in a deep, serene slumber, its edges soft and inviting, with crow's feet delicately framing its eyes, giving it an air of age-worn wisdom. The door radiated a palpable aura of knowledge and serenity.

She leaned in closer, inspecting the intricate carvings that adorned its surface, and noticed a striking plus sign etched between its knitted brows, a symbol that piqued her curiosity. 

Without a doorknob to beckon her, Y/n hesitated only briefly before she reached out tentatively, her fingertips brushing against the door's face. With a gentle yet playful tap on its nose, she booped it softly. The response was immediate—a mild scrunch of wood and a low, rumbling grunt, as if the door were waking from a long dream. It blinked itself awake, wood creaking like old bones.

"Who dares disturb my slumber?" it groaned, yawning. 

"Someone who doesn't have time for your beauty sleep," Y/n replied flatly, arms crossed. 

The door huffed. "Impatience. Typical of youth."

Y/n wasn't moved. "I know you're not going to let me through unless I solve something."

They were interrupted by yet another loud, more boisterous yawn. Y/n started and turned her attention to the door across from them. Its face took on a much younger appearance, but it still looked wise with an upside-down triangle on its forehead. He eyed Y/n, "My, my, a young girl,” it whistled,  "What brings you here?" He spoke with a forceful tone, sounding like a cocky middle-aged man hitting on a woman at a bar. 

"I'm trying to get through to the center of the labyrinth," Y/n answered, trying very hard not to cringe.

"Wow, how long has it been since we've seen a mortal run this labyrinth..." bellowed a sleepier, gentler voice. Y/n turned her head to the far left and saw the other door awake, looking upon her with soft, gentle eyes. His face was much older and more cracked than the others, with a circle on his forehead.

"It's been a long time, a long, long time," a slow and low voice chimed in. The final door, nodding in agreement, had a half-moon symbol between its brows.

Y/n stepped back, ensuring she was equally in view of all the doors. Taking mental note that this interaction would determine her next move.

"So, what's the catch? I know there's one," Y/n pushed.

"Mm, this one's got fire to it," the Triangle chuckled smugly.

"Fire burns quick if it isn't tended," the Half-Moon chimed in.

Y/n exhaled, rubbing her temple. "Do you all talk in riddles, or is that just an insufferable personality trait?"

The Plus-Sign spoke, his voice low and steady, but holding firm in the atmosphere. "We are keepers of choices, girl. Each of us leads somewhere different."

Hoggle tilted his  head. "A fifty-fifty chance of doom?"

"Twenty-five," Y/n muttered. "Don't make it worse."

The doors ignored her sarcasm.

The Triangle Door chuckled, eyes narrowing. "She doesn't need lessons. She's bold, has some edge, and seems to hold her own. That's something I admire; not a lot of girls are like that."

Y/n shot the Triangle Door a look. "You sound like a bad Tinder date."

“What’s a Tinder?” Hoggle asked. 

The Circle Door, slow and deliberate, rumbled, "The young always mock what they don't yet understand."

The Plus-Sign Door resurfaced. "Each path reflects the truth of you, girl. Choose the one that frightens you least, or the one that frightens you the most. Either way, you'll learn."

"None of you really scare me, if I'm being honest."

The Half-Moon Door sighed. "Look at her, standing unshaken, even as she lies to herself."

Y/n squinted. "Excuse me?"

The Half-Moon Door blinked slowly, its voice dripping with pity. "You call it strength," it said, "but you're overcompensating."

"I'm not overcompensating for anything." y/n argued.

"Then why run toward the impossible," the door murmured, "and call it courage?"

"Cowards run away from the impossible," Y/n shot back, her tone flat. "Don't try to fit me into your pity bubble."

The air thickened with a palpable tension, humming softly as if the labyrinth itself held its breath in anticipation. Hoggle clutched his chest, feeling the weight. 

The Plus-Sign Door’s voice remained smooth, grounding the swirling unease. “All doors reveal. Few forgive. Choose wisely."

“This one’s got a tongue on her, she ought to be careful” the Triangle Door purred, its tone dripping with sly intrigue as it savored the unfolding drama.

"You've already made that clear," Y/n retorted, refusing to acknowledge the door's burning gaze.

"Tell me, girl..." the triangle door’s voice slowed, each word dripping with allure, "has that mouth ever truly granted you what you desired most?"

Y/n’s quickening pulse faltered her breathing. The familiar cadence of that voice both thrilled and unsettled her.

She turned her head slowly, swallowing deeply.  If she were going to choose the right door, she had to be honest. "I won’t lie, you sound tempting, like every mistake I've almost ever made."

“Almost made? Perhaps you haven’t truly lived enough to discern the fine line between danger and desire,” the Triangle replied, its voice rich and deliberate, resonating in the thick air.

Those words were too  charged, Y/n couldn’t help but nod. She was only eighteen and still had so much life to live. Her frontal lobe hadn't even fully developed yet, and how would it if she lacked discernment? 

An unseen force shifted around them, expanding the tension that enveloped the space, tightening the atmosphere like a drawn bowstring, ready to release. Despite her agreement, she squinted her eyes. It was a good input, but the delivery was off to her. 

D/n, sensing the gravity of the moment, tucked its tail between its legs.

“You’re hungry,” the Triangle murmured, its voice low and enticing, “hungry for change."

Y/n and the triangle door kept their eyes locked on one another. Its edges radiating defiance with  a daring intensity that made her pulse race. She blinked rapidly, feeling every heartbeat. 

"You're projecting," she breathed, her voice softer than intended, edged with a tremor. 

The Circle door interrupted, its voice steady. "Desire devours the undisciplined. Fire, as we mentioned, can't be tamed."

"Enough with the fire analogies!" Y/N groaned, tilting her head back in annoyance. 

"Um, Y/N, why don't you pick, for old time's sake?" Hoggle ventured after a long silence, shuffling his feet hesitantly and looking up at her with hopeful eyes. 

“I'm not choosing Negative Nancy and the bad Tinder date.” She muttered, momentarily darting her gaze to the triangle and the moon doors. 

Her eyes flicked back to the Triangle door, which seemed to watch her with a knowing stare.

"To clear the air, dear," the Triangle door began, "what I meant by hunger was hunger for independence. You don't want guidance; you desire freedom. But freedom always comes at a cost." 

Y/N remained rooted in her place, despite the warmth igniting in her chest, feeling the tug between being understood and being challenged.

"Look, I'm being honest, you've been wandering in endless circles, surrendering to the expectations of others. I won't scold or lecture you. I'll let you be your true self. All you have to do is step through," it coaxed, the words wrapping around her like a warm embrace. 

The Half Moon door stirred, its gentle surface cracking as if breaking the bad news. "No matter which door you choose, it will reveal a fragment of yourself that you may not like, regardless of whether it's the right or wrong path. Every direction demands a toll on your identity. It can all go down from here.”

The Circular door interjected sharply, its voice cutting through the air like a blade. "These enticing words are mere illusions, tempting you with the allure of what you desire. But remember, choice without influence is just another trap."

The Plus Sign door added, "Every young soul beats against the walls that raised them. Your rebellion doesn't make you unique, girl." 

Y/N clenched her jaw, she understood, but was still conflicted.

"Come now," the Triangle coaxed again. 

Y/N's eyes drifted back towards it, she wasn’t stupid, but why did she feel drawn to it?

"Unless, of course," it purred, "you’re afraid of discovering what you truly want."

The door's mouth moved aligned with the words, yet the sound echoed around her, filling the space with a disorienting resonance. Then the air behind her shifted, brushing against the nape of her neck like a whisper that lingered only inches away.

Hoggle shuffled closer, his voice apprehensive. "Y-Y/N, I don't like the sound of that one..."

She cast one final, lingering glance between them all. The Triangle grinned slyly, the Half Moon regarded her with sympathetic pity, and the Plus Sign had grown still, almost ominously. Yet, the Circular door remained patient, its surface exuding a calm assurance.

"You value discipline," it conveyed softly, its voice like a balm.

"And freedom," she countered, a hint of defiance underlying her words.

"They're not opposites," it answered gently. "You just need to learn to harmonize the two."

An aching acceptance surged through her belly as she stepped forward. She pressed her hand against the Circle's surface, which pulsed warmly beneath her fingers, exuding a golden glow. 

"Fine," she whispered with resolution. "Show me what I've been missing."

The door opened with a low hum that resonated like a heartbeat, enveloping her in a sense of recognition and possibility. 

Y/n spent the rest of her day sprawled lazily on her bed reading Labyrinth. One of her windows cracked allowing the warm summer dusk breeze on her skin. 

Despite only watching the film once, she began to feel familiar with the details and made mental comparisons between the novel and the movie. 

Y/n found herself really liking Sarah's character, especially how she kept her cool through such a complex maze of challenges. She admired Sarah's resourcefulness and how she brought her friends into the mix to boost her chances against Jareth.

What really stood out to Y/n was the depth and detail in the book compared to the movie. It gave her a better understanding of the characters' thoughts and feelings, which she loved analyzing. Getting more insight into Sarah's relationship with her mom was a big plus too—it added a whole new layer of emotion and understanding.

Every time she read Jareth's dialogue, she imagined his deep melodic voice. A part of her wished for some of his words from the book to be portrayed in the movie, but reading allowed her to envision the dialogue in a way that was uniquely her own. Like she was directing a personal movie in her mind.

She was more than halfway through the book when she set it down and grabbed her phone, ignoring the notifications on her lock screen. She opened a music app and looked up the Labyrinth soundtrack, scrolling to the song that she couldn’t shake since yesterday. 

She put in her headphones, her left hand in the spot in the book where she left off, and pressed play, allowing the music to electrify her senses like a sudden bolt of lightning.

"How you turn my world into a precious thing…"

His voice trembled with vulnerability and longing, sending a wave of heat rushing down her body. She  shut her eyes, savoring the electric sensation as she pictured Jareth in his sleek black leather waistcoat and deep red long-sleeved shirt. She allowed his evocative voice to seize her senses. 

Deeply immersed in the melancholic tunes, a sudden  surge of adrenaline overwhelmed her, a feeling she hadn't experienced while listening to a song in a long time.

In that moment, it seemed as though her mind took a turn of its own. She could see Jareth striding towards her, his hand outstretched, offering a crystal ball that shimmered with dreams and temptations. His thin lips formed a  smirk so captivating that Y/n could swear she felt her body pulsating with anticipation. Her eyes remained fixed on Jareth as if he were actually there. The scene felt so real it was damn near frightening; her heart seemed to leap into her throat in that instant.

"Just as I can be so cruel." 

She found herself unable to pinpoint the exact reason for her curiosity. Perhaps it was the adjacency of his drowsy yet intense gaze and angular eyebrows accentuating his sly grin, or maybe it was the hypnotic timbre of his voice. His hair perhaps, as unconventional as it would be considered in today’s time, was the cherry on top to complete his otherworldly allure.

His words seemed to caress her like a sudden rush of water trickling down her goosebump ridden skin. She so desperately wanted to open her mouth and shamelessly consume it, letting it drip down the corners of her mouth—into her throat.

"Oh, I do believe in you…"

Y/n started to picture herself reaching for the ball; her focus momentarily fixed. Jareth let it settle into her grasp as he continued to outstretch a gloved hand towards her chin. The leather cool against her skin as he gently caressed it. She was frozen in her spot, as if magic was grounding her steadily. Jareth's thumb traced the curve of her bottom lip with deliberate slowness. 

She stumbled slightly, finding herself leaning into his embrace, allowing his arm to snake around the small of her waist. The sensation of his breath brushing against her face made her close her eyes in surrender.

This was only a fantasy after all, he wasn’t the first fictional character she imagined like this. In fact, this was only the tip of the iceberg.

Her lips parted further, ready for whatever he was going to give her the minute he started to inch closer....

A rapid thumping on the windowpane startled Y/n. 

She lifted herself up only to see nothing.  

"The hell?" She questioned irritably, for no tree branches barely brushed her window. She huffed and thumped her head against her bed, looking up at the ceiling, disappointed that she'd lost her train of thought. But what wasn't lost was the aching between her thighs.

"Y/n,  I would appreciate it if I could get some help around here," her mother called from downstairs sarcastically, "you've been upstairs all day. I've barely seen you."

With an exasperated huff, Y/n rolled out of bed, descending the spiral of dark wooden stairs.

M/n was seen chopping up garlic for a salad; she loved to add garlic to almost every meal because it was healthy. Y/n couldn't stand it.

M/n requested Y/n to chop some lettuce and put the garlic pieces into the wooden salad bowl. She had then asked what she was upstairs doing most of the time. 

"Reading," Y/n replied dryly, taking a knife and cutting the lettuce stem.

"What book did you get?" M/n asked, walking over to the fridge and grabbing a cucumber from one of the bottom shelves. 

"It's called Labyrinth. It's based on a movie I watched last night." 

"So that's what you were doing instead of helping. Stuck on a movie and a book that will do you no good." 

"Mom, enough." Y/n found herself chopping the lettuce a little too aggressively. 

"What about your prep for college? Did you sign up for your orientation like you were supposed to?" 

"Mom, please, I completed those things weeks ago, and you know that. My orientation isn't until next month!"

"I'm sure there are more things you need to complete." M/n continued grabbing the pieces of lettuce y/n and placing them in the salad bowl. At this point, she was interrogating the poor girl. 

"I was only having leisure time, that's all,"  Y/n replied with slumped shoulders, for she was tired of going back and forth. 

"You always have leisure time,"  M/n shot back, "you don't do anything–" 

"Alright, that's enough! I don't wanna hear it anymore!"

M/n abruptly stopped her work and turned to Y/n with a look in her eyes. Things were about to get ugly, and Y/n knew there was no backing out. 

"Who are you raising your voice at?" She asked slowly.

“What- I-“ y/n stammered. 

"No, no, no," M/n's voice was louder, filling the quiet space of the kitchen; Y/n couldn't help but wince, "Who do you think you're talking to?"

Before Y/n could answer, her mother grabbed her arm so hard, digging her fingertips into her flesh. 

"No, you listen to me-" M/n began, her voice plummeting fiercely into Y/n's eardrums.

In moments like this, M/n never gave room for Y/n to speak. She was the type of woman who communicated to be felt, not necessarily to be understood or to understand the other side. Y/n and her father had discussed it before, but no matter how much Y/n brought it up, nothing changed. Her father said it was no use; that was just how she was.

All the countless sorrys that Y/n had given hope to, had already made its way down the drain a long time ago. Perhaps it was time to bite back, even though it likely wouldn't end well, she’ll at least feel better. 

"No, I want to be listened to, and I am sick and tired of you treating me like a child!" Y/n's voice erupted with anger as she forcefully tore her arm from her mother's grip, surprised at how easily it came free. She stepped back, her chest heaved as it eroded with frustration and resentment.

"Nothing is ever good enough for you! You expect everyone to think and act the way you do, and when they don't, you act like they're wrong."

Her eyes blazed with defiance, daring her mother to challenge her.

Y/n's mother scoffed dismissively, her tone dripping with condescension. "Y/N, give me a break. I'm not falling for whatever tactic this is anymore. This has gone on for too long, and you need to be more mature. You haven't lifted a finger in days, and your dad isn't even here. All you think about is yourself, and I'm tired of repeating myself over and over again. If you want to be treated like an adult, then start acting like one."

Her words landed like a verbal slap, stoking the fire of Y/n's frustration even further. Despite the accusation of selfishness cut deep, Y/n refused to back down. Although there was a hint of disappointment that M/n didn’t erupt back.

"You've hindered my maturity and growth for however long. You never give me a chance to think about things–"

"I wish you would blame me for the way you turned out. You simply don't think." 

"That's because growing up, you always had to think for me," Y/n asserted, taking a deliberate step forward. "The reason my friends are so mature and independent is because their parents leave them the hell alone."

Y/n and her mother stood in tense silence, the air thick with unspoken words and simmering tension. M/n's initial surprise shifted into a deep disappointment as she absorbed the gravity of the situation. Slowly, almost reluctantly, she began to nod, her thoughts racing for a response.

"You're grounded; hand me your phone, computer, remote, and that book. We're finished here."

Y/n’s mouth flew agape, registering the unfairness of the words that landed like a heavy blow to the chest, each item listed a tangible loss in the sudden turn of events. Her mother's decree was final, leaving no room for negotiation or reconciliation at that moment.

"What-why the book?  I haven't even finished it–"

"That's alright. Once you're finished with it, I expect it to be turned in. You won't be seeing it until you're packed for college."

The stinging of tears threatened to spill over. Y/n turned away from her mother without a word and headed upstairs, her steps heavy with the weight defeat. She closed the door to her room firmly behind her, shutting out the world and the echoes of their heated exchange.

"Phone, computer, and remote!" Her mom shouted from upstairs. 

"Yeah, yeah," Y/n muttered. She took the labyrinth book from her bed and looked over its crimson cover, tracing her thumb and feeling its smoothness.  A sinking feeling blossomed within her knowing that she wouldn't see it for a while after she'd finished it. 

She stacked her laptop and phone on top of her desk, oblivious to the various thumping noises she was making.

She went downstairs, not planning to speak to her mother and sets the stack on the counter, ignoring M/n's "thank you."

Y/n was more than halfway through the book, with only 35 pages to go. She wasn't a slow reader; she just wanted to soak in every detail the Labyrinth had to offer, making sure to picture each interaction and character vividly. That's what she loved about books: the ability to visualize and submerge herself into foreign lands better than her own.

Back in her room, she sank into the plush covers of her bed and continued to delve into the land of the Labyrinth, mentally noting each character individually.

She paid close attention to Jareth and was especially shocked when he kissed Sarah in the ballroom. 

"That's weird," Y/n muttered as she thoroughly read the scene, "they didn't kiss in the movie."

"Trust me," Jareth said, moving his face close to hers. "Can you do that?"

"Jesus." Y/n breathed, feeling the tension through the words.

She read further, taking in each word as if it were the last time. She looked up from the spot, her hand placed gently on where she stopped, eyes furrowed, and lips parted.

"This is quite literally all a setup. The Labyrinth seems more than a maze full of convoluted riddles and pathways." Y/n pondered. 

Her thoughts started swirling with the parallels between Sarah's journey in the Labyrinth and her life aboveground. The more she reflected, the more convinced she became that something was orchestrated about Sarah's challenges. No doubt Jareth was behind it all, but there was a tint of something else.

"Hoggle was waiting for her... like he knew she was coming," Y/n murmured, tapping her fingers on the page. She remembered how Sarah encountered helpful creatures at almost every turn — the worm, Ludo, even Sir Didymus. Each encounter seemed almost too conveniently timed as if the Labyrinth itself had a hand in guiding her.

"And those doors," Y/n continued, recalling the puzzling moments in the story. "Sarah guessed the riddle correctly, yet ended up in the same place anyway. And the Bog of Eternal Stench, why didn't the bottom of Sarah’s shoe  smell when she hopped on top of those rocks that emerged from the bog water?"

Without warning, the bedroom door slammed open, and M/n stormed in, her sunglasses perched on her head and her designer purse swinging with purpose. 

"Y/n, I need to run to the store. I forgot things for dinner," she said briefly, not stopping to acknowledge the disarray of Y/n's room or the drawn curtains she criticized. "This room is a disaster. Why are these curtains shut? Open them and let in some light."

Y/n's irritation simmered as she bit her lip, struggling to hold back a retort. She watched with a knot in her stomach as her mother rifled through drawers, criticizing and rummaging through everything in her path.

M/n began asking a multitude of useless questions. Why her clothes weren’t neatly folded (although they were fine, just not in neat rows), commenting on how carelessly she handled things. It was all just static noise at the point. 

"Bye, Mom." Y/n sighed, her shoulders giving out. 

"No, you'll answer me like an adult."

"Adults don't have to answer everything."

"As long as you're under my roof, you will answer every question I ask."

Y/n met her mother's gaze, silently challenging her to leave.

In response, M/n spun around, yanking out armfuls of clothes and flinging them onto the floor with reckless abandon. Drawer after drawer, she created a chaotic landscape of shirts, jeans, socks all strewn across the once pristine floor.

Y/n stood frozen in disbelief, her nerves frayed as the room transformed into a battleground of fabrics. The sight of her belongings tossed aside like meaningless clutter felt like an assault on her sanctuary.

"All these clothes need to be folded properly," M/n commanded, dumping a final heap of swimwear on the growing pile. "And get rid of anything you don't want."

With that final decree, M/n left without waiting for a response, leaving Y/n to confront the aftermath of her fury.

As the echo of the slamming door reverberated through the room, Y/n abandoned the book, got up from the comfort of her bed, and stood amidst the wreckage. The mess is a physical manifestation of her mother's control. 

She sank onto the floor, overwhelmed by a torrent of emotions and the crushing weight of expectations she couldn't wrap around. She shook, hiccuped, and sobbed loudly, feeling utterly overwhelmed and disconnected from everything around her. The room seemed to close around her to where she could barely feel her knees pressing against her bedroom floor. 

The house phone began to ring. 

Groaning, Y/n trudged out of her room and to one of the house phones that was sitting snugly on a dresser. 

“Hello?” she answered upon picking it up.

“Y/n, can you please put your remote downstairs? I forgot to tell you that I didn’t see it. I’ll see you in thirty minutes.” M/n instructed.

“Yeah.” Y/n answered dismissively.

“Love you, bye.” her mom answered softly.

Without replying, Y/n hung up and stomped back to her room.

She walked over to the bed looking for her remote which she knew was submerged in the covers somewhere. 

Finally finding it, she grabbed it and turned back to the hefty pile of clothes that were still a heaping mess on the floor. There was one particular pile of clothes that she no longer needed anymore, so she lifted up the small pile.

Y/n descended the stairs with a purpose, tossing the clothes into the familiar "giveaway" box positioned by the garage door. It had become a regular chore for the family, ensuring a steady stream of donations to local centers. 

She walked to where the stack of her laptop and phone were, the corner of her lips curled as she let out an arrogant scoff.

“I wish the goblins would take mom away,” she plopped the remote on top with attitude, “right now.”

She chuckled at her silly joke, deep resentment for her mother continued to rise in her chest.

Still clad in her navy blue cami top, gray sweats, and white socks, Y/n ambled into the kitchen, where a neglected salad bowl lay surrounded by remains of onions, garlic, lettuce, and spring mix. Feeling the pang of hunger, she opted for a quick fix—a frozen bean and rice burrito that she tossed into the microwave.

As the burrito spun, heating up, an unsettling sound reverberated through the house, causing D/n, to emit a low growl from somewhere distant. Y/n paused, dismissing the noise initially as a stray branch from the backyard trees colliding with a windowpane. She retrieved the now steaming burrito, placing it carefully on a porcelain plate, and relished the first bite—humming in pleasure as the warm combination of rice, beans, and cheese melted into her mouth.

But the tranquility shattered as D/n growled again, the thumping sound resumed with increased intensity. Y/n frowned, setting down her half-eaten burrito and swiftly grabbed a knife from the rack near the coffee maker. Though violent incidents were rare in the neighborhood, her avid consumption of crime shows had prepared her for the possibility of intruders.

With determination etched on her face, she crossed into the living room where the rhythmic thumping persisted that was coming from the large windows. The curtains billowed ominously, threatening to burst with each impact against the glass. D/n stood, tail erect, emitting a series of deep barks and growls that mirrored Y/n's own rising apprehension.

Knife gripped tightly, Y/n cautiously approached the curtains. Her heart raced as an eerie, non-human laugh echoed from her left. She whipped around, knife poised defensively.

She has never heard a sound so inhuman, she nearly dropped her knife. "Who's there?" she demanded, her voice wavering slightly despite her attempt to sound sharp.

Another unsettling giggle pierced the air, mingling with the relentless thumping that had now grown even more frenzied.

A shadow darted behind the flatscreen television, prompting D/n to shift its attention. Y/n pivoted, ready to confront the unseen intruder, her senses heightened.

Then, a furry sensation brushed against her leg. Y/n looked down in alarm, locking eyes with a grotesque creature—a snout twisted and burned, with jagged yellow teeth set against dark fur-covered skin. Its height stopped right below her knee.

The scream Y/n let out was so blood curdling, it didn’t sound like herself. Instinctively, she kicked it forcefully, sending the creature tumbling backward onto the couch. Before she could recover, another creature emerged from behind the curtain, emitting a shrill, disturbing laugh that chilled her to the bone.

Y/n and D/n sprang into action, darting around the room in a frantic attempt to corner the elusive intruders. They ignored the persistent thumping now audible from the other window, focusing solely on defending their territory.

Not wasting another moment, Y/n retreated to the kitchen counter where her phone, laptop, and remote lay in a neat stack. With the knife tucked securely under her arm, she dialed 911, her fingers trembling.

Before Y/n could press the dial button, a small, gnarled hand seized her phone, startling her into action. 

Her eyes widened as she found herself face to face with a goblin.

This one’s snout was grotesquely twisted, resembling a pig's, with eyes that were oddly close-set complete with red irises. The creature sported a rusty helmet atop its misshapen head, its eyebrows mere wisps of hair.

Reacting swiftly, Y/n lunged with her knife, stabbing the goblin squarely in the shoulder. It screeched in pain, its voice cracked and shrill.

"Ahh! She gots me, she gots me! Ahh!" The goblin wailed, writhing in agony on the floor.

Y/n didn't hesitate, stabbing again, this time aiming for its eye. The creature bellowed in pain once more, its shrill cries echoing in the room.

Unbeknownst to her, another smaller goblin lurked, ready to pounce from behind. But before it could strike, D/n leaped on the creature and pinning it down with a growl.

"This dog, oh!" The goblin grumbled in a low, grimy voice, clearly displeased with its predicament.

Y/n's phone clattered to the floor amidst the chaos. She moved to retrieve it, only for it to be kicked out of sight in the scuffle.

“Fuck!” she cursed seeing it skid over to the further end of the kitchen. Her hand was bloodied from goblin blood and she felt disgusting, but she had to keep fighting. 

Y/n was still knelt on the ground and she peered behind her seeing that D/n had trapped the smaller goblin underneath its weight.

Y/n scurried over and yanked the goblin from its grasp, praising her brave companion. She threw the goblin so that it hit the wall with a thump, knocking it unconscious. 

Another goblin, a taller, sturdier one, charged to the direction of her phone that was at the other side of the kitchen by the refrigerator.

"No, no, no!" Y/n gasped, sprinting across the room with her bloodied knife clutched tightly. She reached the goblin just as it raised its ax to smash her phone. With a surge of adrenaline, she grabbed the creature, struggling horrendously with its surprising weight as she hoisted it up and flung it forcefully as far as she could. 

"I guess going to the gym does pay off at times," she muttered to herself wryly, her heart racing from the exertion. She retrieved her phone, stuffing it into her pocket while scanning her surroundings frantically. Was it really worth it to explain this frenzy to the police? 

Nearby, the unconscious goblin lay sprawled on the floor, her faithful dog, D/n, was engaged in a fierce struggle with the bloodied goblin, and the third goblin staggered to its feet weakly, attempting to regain its composure after being thrown down. 

“She’ a violent one…” it gurgled pointing one of its ugly fingers at her. 

Y/n took a deep breath, bracing herself for whatever might come next. Gripping her knife firmly, she remained on high alert, ready to defend herself against any further threats that dared to invade her home.

“D/n! Come here,” She commanded, and her dog was immediately by her side, “stay by me, okay?”

Y/n and D/n cautiously returned to the living room, the thumping noise still reverberating. Despite her fear, she approached the source of commotion. That was not a tree, and she knew it. 

With trembling hands, she pulled aside the curtains and was comforted by the sight that made her blood run cold.

A white barn owl was flapping menacingly at the door. Immediately, it launched itself, shattering the window with a thunderous crash and swooped into the room like a missile.

Y/n screamed in horror, shielding her face as glass shards flew in all directions. She stumbled backwards, landing hard on the cold wooden floor. The glass continued to rain down, and despite her efforts to protect herself, Y/n felt the sting of cuts on her forearm, chest, and face. Pain shot through her, but she clutched her knife tightly, ready to defend herself.

The owl, now inside the room, attacked ferociously. It clawed at Y/n's arms, slapped her with its wings, its feathers landing on her head.  Y/n fought back desperately, swinging her knife blindly until the owl finally retreated, leaving her shaken. 

As the chaos settled, Y/n slowly rose to her feet,  D/n watching her with concern. She gripped the knife tightly, scanning the shattered room. Bile rose in her throat and tears started stinging her eyes once more.  

"Mom's gonna fucking kill me," she muttered bitterly, her voice wavering with emotion, “shit.”

"You won't have to worry about that,"  a voice said, cutting through the tense silence.

Y/n gasped and turned to the direction of the voice. 

Leaning against the shattered window stood a tall, lithe figure, specks of glitter and glass scattered at his feet at the ends of his cape. His black leather boots complemented black tights, and he wore a ruffled black undershirt with a deep vee, topped by a black half corset adorned with intricate designs and buckles. 

She took in his face, noting the striking sharpness of his features. High cheekbones and an angled chin were framed by a wild, tousled mane of blond hair.

"So, this is the thanks I get?" he remarked, his voice laced with bitterness and amusement. 

He studied her face, dewy with sweat and marked by blood splotches near her eyebrow and upper cheekbone. Her wet lips were parted, and her eyes were challenging. He noted the strap of her navy blue cami top slipping off her sweaty shoulder. Her entire body glistened with sweat, a trickle of blood tracing down her chest as it heaved harshly. 

"Who the hell are you?"  Y/n demanded, though she already had a sinking feeling she knew the answer.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" he replied, the corners of his mouth twitched. 

"Why are you here?" she pressed, her voice trembling with a mix of fear and defiance.

"Why do you insist on asking questions you already know the answers to?" he retorted..

“This must be a dream or something,” y/n breathed, “because there’s no way David Bowie is in my house right now.” 

The male furrowed his eyebrows in confusion at her joke, “what?”

“David Bowie…” Y/n repeated slowly, “are you not…?” 

“I don’t know who this Dave Bowel you speak of.” 

“Jeez, have some respect for the dead..” 

“My condolences.” he replied dryly. 

Y/n kissed her teeth, his sarcasm was really on a roll this evening. 

“Very well, Jareth.” she said his voice as if it were entirely new, although it did feel strange on her tongue. 

Jareth pointed behind her, “Look there.” 

Y/n turned around only to be faced by a clean and ordered room. All of the shards of glass vanished and the window was back in its place. 

“You’re free now to do whatever you please.” 

“I’m free?” Y/n asked, tilting her head slightly. 

“Forget about your mother.” 

The knife that was once in Y/n’s hand fell onto the floor with a loud clank. 

“You took my mother?” She said in disbelief. 

“Isn’t that what you wished for?” Jareth said with a raised brow, for he found Y/n’s reaction quite amusing. 

“But—wait—I was kidding!” 

“Were you now?” 

“Yes. I won’t say anything like that again I promise! Just please bring my mom back.” 

Jareth made his way closer to Y/n until he was only a breath away, their eyes locking like old foes reunited in a clash of wills.

“What comes out of your mouth, Y/n,” he murmured, his voice a dangerous whisper. He outstretched his gloved hand, his fingers grazing her chest, “contradicting the desires of your heart.”

A shiver ran through Y/n at his touch, her breath hitching as she found herself unable to break free from the intensity of his gaze, which bore into her with a fierce and unsettling riddle.

“You are seriously fucked in the head for seducing me into forgetting my own mom.” 

“It doesn’t take much to do that.” Jareth retorted in a matter of fact tone. 

“Don’t act like you know me. I’m not Sarah!” She spat. 

Jareth’s  expression dropped, he irritably sighed, “she was not the only one who ran my labyrinth.” His voice ran cold suddenly. 

“But she was the only one who conquered it.” He finished.

The air between them stilled as their eyes stayed locked on each other’s.  Neither was willing to back down, both poised on the edge of something inevitable.

“Sometimes I wonder who will be the next conqueror,” Jareth murmured, his voice low, his eyes glinting suggestively. 

“So, I should run the labyrinth to save my mom?” She asked, her voice carrying a challenge of its own.

Jareth smirked. 

"Alright," Y/n challenged, bending down to pick up her knife. She flipped it in the air and caught it perfectly. "I'll do it. But don't expect me to give up easily."

"You stabbing and flinging my subjects around proves enough," Jareth replied, looking down at his arm and brushing it with his hand. "Nearly chopped my wing off with that knife. You are a bold thing." He chuckled, his eyes dancing with amusement as he looked back up at her.

"Alright, save it. Where's the Labyrinth?" Y/n pushed irritably, her patience wearing thin.

“Such haste won’t get you anywhere.” Jareth replied. 

“But I already know the rules, I’ve watched the movie, I have thirteen hours to solve or my mom will turn into a goblin.” She recited.  

Jareth furrowed her eyebrows once more, “Movie?” 

Y/n waved her hand dismissively, “Nevermind.” 

“You’ve read the book. That’s how you know.” 

Y/n nodded slowly, “Uh yeah, sure” she then started to wonder if Jareth even knew what a movie was. 

"But since you're so confident," Jareth started, circling her slowly, his eyes never leaving her, "I'll give you ten hours."

"You can't just do that!" Y/n protested, disbelief at the arbitrary time limit.

"It is my labyrinth where I can do what I please," Jareth replied nonchalantly, although his facial expression danced with amusement.

"But I never said I was confident; I said I wouldn't give up. There's a difference between determination and cockiness," Y/n retorted, hoping that would change his mind. 

Jareth's expression tightened, and he took a sharp breath, his stance growing tense as he ceased his circling. Silently, he gestured behind Y/n. Turning, she faced the once shattered window, now revealing the ominous maze of the labyrinth, with the castle looming in the distance like a coveted prize.

"Looks difficult doesn’t it?" Jareth taunted, leaning close to her ear, his breath tickling the nape of her neck. 

"No shit, you gave me ten hours," Y/n huffed bitterly.

Jareth snorted, his demeanor shifting as he backed away from her. "I'm simply treating you as you wish to be treated," he countered.

Turning to face him, Y/n's eyes narrowed. "And how is that?" she challenged, bracing herself for his next barb.

"Like an adult," his words a gut punch to Y/n’s firm stance. 

The young girl fought to maintain her composure, her heart racing at his words.

"Such a pity," Jareth added, his tone cold and cutting.

Ignoring his provocations, Y/n began to stride forward, only to halt abruptly.

"My dog," she exclaimed, looking back, but Jareth had vanished. 

From behind a nearby tree emerged D/n, wagging its tail in greeting.

"D/n!" Y/n exclaimed joyfully, scooping up her furry companion in a tight embrace.

"Ten hours," Jareth's voice echoed ominously.

Startled by his sudden reappearance through his voice alone, Y/n quickly rose to her feet and proceeded down the sloping path towards the labyrinth's entrance.