You have no power over me.

Those words had played over and over in Jareth's head. He may not have had power over her but Sarah's words certainly had power over him. He had only done what she had asked when he took Toby away. He only wanted her to love him the way he loved her. He had done everything for her.

For years he kept watch over her. He hid in dark corners, peered through windows, or disguised himself as different people she overlooked on walks or on her way to school. He waited, hoping that she would change her mind, decide she had been to rash in casting him off, when she would realize that everything he had done had been for her and he moved the stars for no one.

He was sure she would come around eventually, but then she met him. That stupid, zit faced boy with the curly brown hair and the nervous smile. Sarah had been standing at a street corner waiting for the walk sign to light up when she dropped her book. She started to reach to pick it up but he had beat her to it. They began a conversation about the book which led to talking about other books which led to a date.

The boy, Martin, was always doting on Sarah. The way he looked at her when she wasn't paying attention made Jareth sick. He would have liked nothing more than to take Martin away and throw him in the Bog of Eternal Stench, he'd see how much Sarah would like him then. However, her declaration of his lack of power over her prevented Jareth from affecting anyone close to her, something Martin was becoming at an alarmingly quick rate.

Jareth was now sitting on a bench at a bus stop in a city far away from Sarah and Martin. His optimism for the failure of their engagement and then their marriage had died. Today was the day that Sarah had given birth to her first child, a son, she had named Christopher.

Though the years had brought change to Sarah and Martin, Jareth remained the same. He always remained the same. It was a lonely existence. His kingdom offered little companionship. Sarah was his one chance at finding someone to share a life with, to rule with. She had peaked his interest with her passion and her weaknesses. She had moved on from that night. She might have convinced herself it had been a dream were it not for her friends who would visit from time to time.

It was late. The steady stream of headlights had died down to a bus every now and then. They always stopped but Jareth never boarded. He had nowhere to go, no one to meet. Sarah was too far gone from him to ever return. He would never find love again.

A young woman appeared on the end of the street. She walked with purpose over the sidewalk. Her hair was light blonde, almost white. It was short and brushed over to one side falling partially over one eye. She came to a stop in front of the bench, removing her backpack from her shoulders, before taking a seat at the opposite end from Jareth. She plunged her hand into the bag and pulled out a small red book. In the streetlights he saw golden letters flash, The Labyrinth.

His mouth pulled into a crooked smirk. Then again, perhaps all was not lost.