A/N: Currently I have no plans to continue this. I wrote it just to get it out of my system and because I am crossover trash.

Edit 06/26/16: You guys talked me into it. I'm now continuing this, but I make no promises about an update schedule or even a coherent story line.

Sarah's Wish

.

Changeling

Sarah Williams never did become an actress. Nor did she marry. What she did do was attend college and get a degree in English. And when she learned that the book The Labyrinth did not actually exist (her own copy had vanished into thin air), she wrote it.

It became a bestseller, spawning many spin-off stories about Sarah's friends from her time Underground. The Adventures of Sir Didymus was especially popular with young children. A movie version of The Labyrinth was even filmed. David Bowie came close to doing Jareth justice, but he was just a human trying to imitate a Faerie in the end. Jareth's voice was sweeter, his looks more otherworldly, his gaze more piercing, his clothes finer… but Mr. Bowie had come as close as a human man was likely to come.

Sarah had plenty of offers from men over the years, but she spurned them all for a teaching position at a prominent British university. Buried in her work and her memories of a land of magic and a king she'd been too young to understand, she grew up and then grew old. She stopped calling to her friends from the Underground, though one or two little goblins still tailed her from time to time, ensuring that she never forgot that her thirteen hours in another world had really happened. That it was real.

She retired from teaching and bought herself a nice little house in Surrey, a place called Little Whinging. Privet Drive was picturesque, perhaps a bit too cookie cutter for Sarah's tastes, but there were plenty of children and the library was just around the corner. Sarah enjoyed volunteering to read at the library's story hour. It especially amused her to read her own stories to the children.

All in all, Sarah had learned the lessons of the Labyrinth well. Life was not fair, and dreams, while tempting, were no substitute for reality. She'd become an adult and managed to live a respectable life, even if her stepmother despaired of her being an old maid. Sarah was content and she refused to settle for anything less than heart-pounding, head-over-heels, time-stopping, passionate love. And after one has matched wits with the Goblin King… well, it's hard for anything else to seem as magical.

Unless of course, one counts people in robes and pointy hats appearing on the street one night and somehow causing all of the streetlights to wink out.

Unknown to Sarah, she had retained the powers given to her by the Goblin King so long ago. Words had power in the Underground, and she had declared herself the king's equal with True Belief backing her claim. So though the wizards on the street were using spells to hide their activities from prying eyes, their magic affected Sarah not one whit.

Thus it was that she witnessed an old man, a half-giant, and an old woman leave a baby on a doorstep and then vanish into thin air.

Were those people Fae like Jareth? Was the child a changeling? Sarah had made a thorough study of all ancient myths and legends concerning beings like the Goblin King, both for her writing and in case she should ever cross paths with one again. So she knew the stories of Fae children being disguised as humans and given to mortals to raise. Perhaps that was what she had just witnessed.

She had half a mind to march over the road and take the child from her neighbor's stoop, but remembering her ignorance and youthful arrogance when she faced Jareth, she stayed her hand. Who knew what purpose those beings had in leaving one of their children there, and who was she to interfere?

So she resolved to do nothing. But she would keep an eye on the child. Just in case.

-l-

Months passed, and Sarah grew frustrated. She'd blamed the initial screaming and fussing the child's discovery caused at Number 4 Privet Drive on the shock of finding a baby on the stoop. But then it seemed as if the child had vanished. When Sarah politely inquired about the foundling, Mrs. Dursley - the housewife of Number 4 - was unable to completely hide the hatred that burned in her eyes and the disgust that twisted her lips. She said the child was sickly and she had to keep him indoors at all times. Sarah knew the woman was lying. Ever since the Labyrinth Sarah always knew when a falsehood was spoken.

With a feeling of dread, Sarah asked one of the goblins attending her to sneak into the house and report back on the child. Eager to please, the little goblin did so, and what it (Sarah found goblin gender difficult to determine) reported back was enough to make Sarah's hands shake. The child was kept in a boot cupboard. He was barely fed and extremely dirty, dressed in rags. Whatever mobility he'd once had was lost, for the poor thing barely had room to move about in the cupboard.

Sarah called the authorities. She'd initially kept watch on the child in case the little Fae got up to some mischief, but now she would be his Champion. Surely the Faeries who'd left him wouldn't want him to be tortured so?

The authorities came and the Dursleys were arrested and the changeling child removed. Sarah considered the matter closed.

Except the very next day the Dursleys were back in their house, the child was back in the cupboard, and no one else in the neighborhood remembered anything that had happened the day before. Sarah herself was the only one immune to whatever force it was bent on torturing the poor baby Fae.

Sarah called the authorities several more times with similar results. Eventually the old man Fae she'd witnessed leave the changeling on the stoop came to her house. He was wearing a ridiculous purple striped suit and had long white hair and an even longer white beard. His eyes, both blue, twinkled at her. Up close he appeared human, without any of the otherworldly beauty and grace that had characterized Jareth. Perhaps this Fae wasn't royal and that made the difference. Or perhaps he was using a glamour to appear human to her.

At any rate, the old Fae didn't bother with small talk. He simply pointed a stick - a magic wand? - at her and said "Obliviate!"

A blue-white light flashed out and engulfed Sarah's head. Other than that she didn't feel a thing, but she wasn't about to let the Faerie know that. She allowed her eyes to unfocus and dredged up her acting skills. Pretending to come back to herself, she acted as if she'd just opened the door and greeted the old Fae all over again.

"I'm just a bit lost," the old Fae said. "Can you tell me where I might find Number 4?"

Sarah nodded and smiled kindly. "Oh the Dursleys," she said. "Lovely family. Nicest people."

Satisfied, the old Fae left.

Sarah shut her door and grit her teeth. She could see only one way out for the little changeling. If the Fae that should be looking after the little one wouldn't help, then Sarah would turn to one she knew who would.

As a teenager she'd been afraid of the Goblin King and twisted his every action to fit her picture of a villain. But older eyes saw things more clearly. Nothing is as it seems. The Goblin King's game had rules and goals. The Labyrinth taught lessons to those who would be so foolhardy as to wish away their children. And for those children no one truly wanted, the Wished Away that had no one come for them, Jareth provided a home.

But as she had said, there were rules. Before Sarah would be able to wish the changeling into Jareth's kingdom, she needed to have a claim on the boy.

After waiting a few hours to be sure that the old Fae was really gone, Sarah went across the street to Number 4 and volunteered to babysit the 'sickly' child. She was old, she said, and would appreciate the company. Besides, Mrs. Dursley should be allowed to focus on her own son. How rude of people, to just leave a child on a doorstep! (Well, Sarah actually meant that statement, but it didn't excuse the behavior of the Dursleys.)

As soon as she'd been given the boy - dressed in only a soggy nappy and ratty blanket - she took him into her house and whispered, "I wish the Goblin King would come and take this child away. Right now."

-l-

Jareth lounged on his throne. Well, perhaps 'languished' would be the better term. It had been less than a century, a blink of the eye to one of the Fae, but his heart had been breaking ever since Sarah Williams denied him and forced him to relinquish his hold on her. He could watch her from afar, but not appear before her. Not unless she called him, and she was so very clever and careful not to do that.

He grimaced. This was why few Fae allowed themselves to love, for it was a Fae's nature to feel every emotion to the fullest extent. Their anger was fierce and their happiness fiercer, and their sorrow so deep that it was possible for them to die of it. When they hated something they loathed it, and when they loved it was for all eternity.

Jareth had not meant to love Sarah. She was just another runner of his Labyrinth, another child to teach a lesson to. And then she was more, and he wasn't sure why or how. Perhaps it was her eyes, eyes as cruel as those of any Fae. Though in her case the cruelty was born of youthful ignorance more than any true malevolence. And then she had the gall to do what no Fae princess had ever done.

She had denied him. Him! She had said the Words and meant them. Words had power Underground, but only when one wanted them to with every fiber of their being. It took pure intent and True Belief to wield the Words. And Sarah had done so.

Jareth's heart broke in that moment, his will momentarily shattered so that his realm had crumbled around him. The Goblin City only existed for so long as Jareth desired it. It was his world and so it had reflected his feelings at being spurned by a little mortal girl.

Except she wasn't a mortal girl. Not anymore. By her own Words, she was the equal of the Goblin King. For my will is as strong as yours, and my kingdom is as great. What is said is said. Sarah had crowned herself Goblin Queen and retained the position ever since. Though she returned to the Above, though she would not allow Jareth to visit her, though she insisted on aging as mortals did, she was still his queen.

So he watched her. She was willfully blind to her powers. She did not notice how she could captivate mortals with her words, assumed that when she called on her friends through a mirror that it was their magic, not hers, and did not question that the female goblins of the kingdom had taken to following and serving her from the shadows. She could smell lies and see through illusion, fitting for Jareth's Court as he himself was renowned for his abilities in those areas. And when she wrote her stories, spreading their tale through the Above, the Labyrinth shifted and grew to fit her will. With all the fascination and faith Sarah's stories generated among children and adults alike, the Goblin Kingdom was stronger now than it had been since the days when Fae were worshiped as gods.

Even unknowing, Sarah was a fine queen. Jareth loved her more with every year that passed and wished that there was a way to cut his heart from his chest to spare himself the longing that only grew stronger.

At least she had never taken a husband. Jareth was not certain that he would have survived that.

And then the day came. The wonderful day when her voice echoed from one end of the kingdom to the other.

"I wish the Goblin King would come and take this child away. Right now."

-l-

Jareth appeared in a boom of thunder and crack of lightning, a wind whipping loose papers around Sarah's sitting room. The child in Sarah's arms tensed but did not cry, making Sarah frown. What had been done to the child that he had learned not to make noise?

Sarah looked up and her breath caught. Jareth stood framed by the doors to her patio. He was just as beautiful as ever, with his chiseled features, up-swept brows, and wild white hair. His mismatched eyes bored into hers and she quickly averted her gaze, taking in his body instead. He was still tall and leanly muscled, his tight breeches and tall boots showing his legs off to advantage and displaying his obvious masculinity. He wore a ruffled white shirt beneath a black vest embroidered in silver. A black feathered cape hung from his shoulders, equally black gloves on his hands. His skin glittered and glowed in the afternoon light, marking him as something beyond human.

His magnificence made Sarah all the more aware of her own frazzled greying hair, the wrinkles on her face and hands, and her frumpy old lady sweater set.

Sarah curtseyed as best she could with a terrified baby in her arms. "Your majesty."

She felt rather than saw Jareth approach. Gloved fingers gently grasped her chin and tilted her head back.

"Sarah," the Goblin King said, his voice sending shivers down her spine. "Your eyes are the same."

Sarah smiled. "I'm flattered you remember me, your majesty."

Jareth snorted, a blasphemous action when it came from such an angelic face. "I can never forget you, Sarah. I have tried. But come, rise. You never bowed to me before. I won't have you start now."

Sarah straightened, squinting at Jareth as she tried to puzzle that out. The child in her arms clung to her and buried his little face in her chest, shaking with fear. Her attention diverted, Sarah rubbed the boy's back and hummed soothing nonsense to him.

"So this is why you called for me at last," Jareth went on, reaching out to place a hand on the child's head. "Peace."

The baby instantly calmed.

"Nice trick."

Jareth gave a noncommittal hum, moving to take the baby from her. Sarah allowed it.

"You have no intention of running the Labyrinth to reclaim him."

It was a statement, not a question. Sarah nodded. "He will be better off there than back with his family." Sarah then proceeded to tell Jareth of all that she had seen and suspected, not knowing that he already knew much of the story from the hours he spent watching her.

Turning the now sleeping boy in his arms, Jareth summoned a crystal and gazed into it for several minutes, falling into a sort of trance. Sarah occupied herself by picking up the papers the Goblin King's arrival had disturbed, offering a smile to the goblins who scurried to help her.

"He is half Fae," Jareth announced suddenly, making Sarah jump, a hand clutching at her chest. Jareth chuckled and Sarah frowned at him.

"Well, go on. If you're done trying to scare an old lady into an early grave, that is," Sarah groused.

Now Jareth cringed, flinching away as if he'd been struck. Sarah wasn't sure why. Perhaps she'd offended his sense of honor? "I'm sorry, your majesty. I know you didn't scare me intentionally."

Jareth just shook his head, schooling his expression. He began to juggle a crystal one handed, the other arm cradling the child. "This boy is not a changeling, but his mother was. Red haired and green eyed, she was likely from the Phoenix Kingdom, or perhaps the Land of Dragons. She grew up thinking she was the mortal sister of Petunia Dursley and was trained in the use of human magics. She married a mortal wizard and begat the boy I hold. His mortal name is Harry Potter."

Sarah nodded. "That was one of the things that disturbed me most about the Dursleys. They never told me his name, just referred to him as 'the boy' all the time."

Jareth scowled. "The boy's parents were murdered by a foul sorcerer, one who attempted to get far above himself. The father perished quickly. The mother's Fae nature saved the child. She used the Words. 'Please not Harry,' she said. 'Take me instead.' Her willingness to die, her utter belief in what she said activated her long dormant Faerie magic. She died, and from that moment forward the boy was untouchable. When the mortal sorcerer attempted to kill the boy, the very curse he cast rebounded and saw to it that his body was unmade. Now his spirit travels the Above without rest or refuge."

Sarah gazed at the poor baby's face, stepping close to Jareth so that she could traced the lightning bolt shaped scar on Harry's forehead. "Poor thing," she cooed at him. "This is just awful." She knew better than to say it wasn't fair. Life rarely was. "How did he end up on the Dursleys' stoop?"

"Another mortal wizard. He is convinced that the child is the subject of a prophecy and the only one who can vanquish the dark wizard when he regains a body. So he arranged events to ensure that the boy will grow up in an environment that will make him easy to mold. After all, what if the boy decides he doesn't want to be a savior? Or worse yet, decides to side with the dark sorcerer? Best not to risk it." Jareth snarled. "It's all for the greater good."

Sarah's lips pressed into a thin white line, her cheeks flushing. "I think we've met. The old wizard, I mean. He tried to erase my memory."

Jareth's face relaxed into a crooked grin. "How foolish. As if that would work on you."

Lured by the beauty of the Goblin King's smile, Sarah swayed forward and then gave herself a mental slap and stepped back. She shouldn't have gotten that close - so close that she could smell him, feel the heat of his body, and sense the power that he wore like a cloak. She was too old to go making a fool of herself that way.

Jareth watched her, something Sarah could not identify flashing in his eyes. He held out the crystal he'd been juggling. "I am obliged to offer you this."

Now Sarah chuckled. "Thank you, your majesty, but I learned my lesson the last time. It does not do to dwell on dreams." Still, she was tempted. What would she see? The life she could have had if she stayed Underground? If she'd been older and wiser and understood what Jareth had offered her at the end of the Labyrinth? The children she might have given him, little half Fae princes and princesses with one green eye and one blue?

But no. That was silly. It would have still ended with her standing here, old and grey, while Jareth was untouched by time. This way was better, for at least neither of them were broken hearted.

"As you wish." Jareth squeezed his fist and the crystal globe dissolved into silver glitter that fell to the carpet. "But I must give you something if you don't intend to run the Labyrinth. It's in the Rules."

Sarah bit her lip and thought. "Just treat the child well. That's all I really wanted. To give him a better life." Drawn back to the boy and the Faerie who held him as if one or both were a lode stone, Sarah stroked the sleeping baby's hair, bending to press a kiss to Harry's soft skin. Jareth made a strange noise, a strangled breath, making Sarah look up at him.

"Why did you never call me?" The question seemed to burst from the Goblin King against his will. "Why did you stop calling on your friends?"

Sarah blushed and fingered a strand of her grey hair. "I suppose I wanted to be remembered as I was. Young. Beautiful." She gave an awkward shrug, clutching her hands together. Her knuckles were swollen with arthritis. "I didn't want any of you to see me like this."

"You are still beautiful, Sarah." Jareth's eyes were intense, his gaze potent. It made something within Sarah quiver, stole the air from her lungs. For a moment she couldn't move. Then her brain restarted and a weary sigh whooshed out of her.

"You are kind to say so, your majesty."

Sarah took a step back and Jareth took a step forward, refusing to let her retreat from him.

"I am not kind, Sarah. You know this."

Sarah had seen Jareth mocking and arrogant, gleeful and desperate, angry and gentle. She had seen him spit and rage, and barely withstood his attempts at seduction. But never before had he looked at her with such heartfelt sincerity. Moved to comfort him, she patted his arm, giving the appendage a friendly squeeze. "I know that things are not always as they seem. The direst cruelty can be kindness disguised. The wicked villain a hero maligned."

Jareth broke into abrupt laughter that barely trod the edge of sanity. "Oh, my queen. How I love you," he managed to say between chortles.

Sarah's entire body went numb.

"What? I…"

The laughter stopped as suddenly as it began and that piercing gaze was on her again, staring down into her very soul, stripping all else away.

"You know the truth, Sarah," Jareth's voice came as if from far away. "You can feel it when it's spoken. See it dancing in the air. I would have you taste it on my tongue."

With a snap of Jareth's fingers the child vanished from his arms, no doubt spirited away to the Goblin Kingdom. Now it was Sarah who rested there, who found her unresisting limbs hauled into the Goblin King's chest, cradled against his form. She stared up at him, unable to string two words together, despite her natural gifts.

"I must give you something in exchange for the child," Jareth spoke into the soft shell of her ear. "It is expected that I give him a better life, so that cannot be your reward. You do not wish to gaze upon your dreams. I cannot give you a crown for you took that long ago. I cannot offer my heart for you already hold it in your hands. So let me offer you this: my truth, and a kiss."

Sarah's vision started to blacken at the edges even as she felt more alive than she ever had before. Magic swirled around them, re-scattering the papers she'd gathered and making the goblins in the shadows squeal. Glitter - not glitter, Faerie Dust - spiraled through the air, attaching to whatever it struck until Sarah's quiet suburban house resembled a cave of wonders. Her heart pounded and she clutched at Jareth's shoulders, the longing she'd felt all these years surging up until it choked her. She could not force a single Word past her lips.

"Sarah, please," Jareth begged.

Jareth should never beg. Not her, not anyone.

At last, she found her voice. "What is your truth?"

The whirlwind of magic around them picked up speed, becoming a cyclone of blurred color and power. It had a sound of its own, a roar that threatened to consume them both. And yet somehow Sarah could hear Jareth just fine.

"My truth is what it has been since last we parted. What it shall be forevermore," he said into the curve of her neck, the barest tip of his tongue flicking out to graze her skin. She shivered, trying to ignore the effect he had upon her, even at her age. And then Jareth said the Words.

"Just fear me, love me, do as I say and I will be your slave."

And this time Sarah knew it for what it was: a Fae marriage vow.

One woman could resist temptation only so many times. Here it was. Her heart-pounding, head-over-heels, passionate, worth-waiting-for love. "Yes!" Sarah gasped, and turned her face up, a line from Romeo and Juliet running through her mind.

And thus, with a kiss, I die.

When Sarah's lips met Jareth's, the cyclone of magic around them exploded outward and the two disappeared in a flash of lightning.

The house burned down.

Poor Ms. Williams, the neighbors would say. Such a kind old lady. What a pity.

The Dursleys would never mention to anyone that their nephew was in the burning house. In time, no one on Privet Drive would remember anything about Harry Potter at all. The effect would even spread as far as Wisteria Walk, to a certain Arabella Figg.

As for the old wizard who'd left Harry there in the first place, he would not notice the boy missing until ten years had passed, for every measure he'd put in place to monitor the lad showed him to be in good physical condition and the Dursleys' routine was undisturbed.

-l-

As soon as Sarah set foot Underground, her age melted away from her. Her skin smoothed and tightened, certain things ceased to sag, and her hair became black as the night sky. But that was not the end of it - the bones of her face rearranged themselves in a process that should have been painful but was only disturbing, giving her up-swept brows and more defined cheekbones. Her eyes, always green, now shone like cut emeralds. Her ears became pointed, as did her teeth. She grew a little taller, her arms and legs lengthening until she could be classed as 'willowy.' And her skin started to glow with an inner light, specks of glitter shining in the light.

She was Fae.

"How?" she asked, reeling from all her new senses. Jareth gestured at her, turning her granny clothes into a beautiful white dress trimmed with swan feathers, and Sarah almost staggered because she could see the magic.

"Because you want it," Jareth answered. "You made yourself my equal when you were last here. You remember."

"Yes," Sarah breathed, looking at the Labyrinth with new eyes. She couldn't stop staring.

"You aged because you expected to," Jareth told her, though she was hardly listening. The Labyrinth called to her, and she was hard pressed to block it out. "And after so many years in the Above your powers were fading. But here?" Jareth smiled at her with the sort of wild abandon only a Faerie was capable of. "Here you are limitless."

Sarah returned his playful grin, mischief bubbling in her blood. "Race you to the Palace Beyond the Goblin City!"

With that, she hiked up her skirts and took off running.

-l-

It took them three days to reach the palace. They kept getting distracted, whether by each other or Sarah's amazement that something she had imagined and written about had become part of the Labyrinth, coming into being because she willed it.

When they entered the throne room, they found that it had sprouted a second throne as well as a playpen of carved marble and silken cushions in which little Harry Potter was ensconced.

All at once Sarah remembered why she had called Jareth in the first place and was filled with guilt at having forgotten the little boy. Being fully in touch with her Fae nature would take some getting used to. Things tended to take up either all of her attention, or none of it. She'd have to work on that.

"He is fine, Sarah," Jareth comforted her. "The older goblins will have cared for him. It is a duty they are used to."

Still Sarah moved to clutch the child to her bosom. Her tears of regret bathed his face, only to sizzle when they touched his scar.

Harry screamed.

"Jareth!" Sarah called for her husband, frantic. "What's wrong with him?"

Taking the child from his queen, Jareth quieted the boy with a Word and summoned a crystal to inspect the lad. The boy had changed just as Sarah had, now bearing all the marks of being a full Fae. Sarah was mildly surprised that he wasn't a goblin, but she supposed that his half Fae nature had seen to that. He was a beautiful little thing, with black hair as wild as Jareth's and eyes as green as Sarah's. Why, he could easily be mistaken as their own child. Perhaps they would keep him.

"Ah," Jareth said. "Well that's easily fixed. I shall leave the powers, for they may be useful and he won them fair and square, but the soul shard must go."

Sarah had no idea what Jareth was on about, but as she watched Jareth focused on Harry's forehead and the child's scar began to bleed and weep a vile black ooze. Jareth pressed the crystal in his hand to the ooze and the crystal sucked the foul stuff up until there was none left, filling the ball with an oily black smoke. With a flick of his wrist Jareth vanished the now befouled crystal, and started jiggling Harry up and down.

"There now!" he declared. "All better!"

Harry giggled and it was so infectious that Sarah joined in.

Balancing Harry on his hip, Jareth held a hand out to Sarah. "Come now, my queen. Let us discuss a name for our new Goblin Prince."

Sarah arched an eyebrow. "Goblin Prince?" She took Jareth's hand, allowing him to escort her to the two thrones at the end of the hall.

"You were already thinking it, Precious," Jareth chided her. "Don't act as if you weren't."

Sara smiled. "Well, he does look as if he could be our son."

"And so he shall be, because we declare that he is," Jareth agreed with her. "But his name shall not be 'Harry.' A future Goblin King named 'Harry?' Absurd!"

And so the Goblin King and Goblin Queen argued well into the eve about what was a suitable name for a Goblin Prince. 'Jareth II' was suggested no less than thirteen times, and dismissed just as often. Finally Sarah began listing names she had read in books Above. 'Legolas' was overdone, 'Puck' sounded vulgar, and 'Oberon' was rejected on the grounds that Jareth hated that guy. 'Thorin' was a dwarf name for Faerie's sake, and too many mortals still knew the name 'Loki.' Finally, finally they agreed on 'Gareth.' It sounded similar to 'Jareth' and it could be shortened to 'Gary,' which was close enough to 'Harry' so as not to confuse the little one.

So Prince Gareth the child became, and thus began many wonderful years with the only parents he would remember, the King and Queen of Goblins, Masters of the Labyrinth.