Just a little note: The Labyrinth has chosen Sarah as Queen, but she has not been formally been crowned. Jareth is just taking it for granted that she will be. We know that's been causing a little confusion here and there.


A terrible feeling of disconnect had begun to creep over Sarah as she'd been in mid-dance with yet another partner. For no reason, a chill shivered across her strongly enough that she startled in her current partner's arms, Sarah's panicked gaze searching the room for a sign of Jareth. It ate at her, then, a feeling many years old trying to overwhelm her with its intensity and insistence. The dread she felt brought her back to that moment of hearing the strike of the grandfather clock, of the owl's fluttering wings while the spell, his magic, was broken. When she had been too late to call him back. Sensing something imperative too late to stop it. She didn't know what it was, but something was wrong; something more than her nervousness and feelings of inadequacy.

On the far side of the ballroom, she spotted that waterfall of distinctive purple hair, spinning into sight only seconds before the white-gold of Jareth's. They were deep in conversation and Sarah felt the chill again. On the next turn, before they were out of sight, their gazes met briefly and Sarah knew now that it was this one from which her unease stemmed. Whatever the threat was, it was the girl it centered on. The knowing smile on her lips before the other dancers cloaked them again changed her chill to fury. All night long, she had tried to turn a blind-eye to those who had made clear their hopes of taking the Goblin King as their own, as she was Queen in her own right by the land's choosing. She would be, even if she had chosen not to marry him. That, that she could handle.

But that one, her own intuitions told her, that one was trouble. Trouble for her and trouble for hers. She knew more of Jareth than he had let on when she'd presented herself before them. And he more of her, as his own expression had made clear in the glimpse of their faces had revealed. Sarah couldn't ever remember being this angry at him in all their time together. Angry and humiliated. The ice in her veins before was burned away in the bonfire that rose in her heart at the thought. After all of this nonsense, he'll never know what hit him, she thought wildly. How dare he do this to her now, when he had insisted on her presence here, on her on the throne? It was all she had in that moment to bury her fury and seem only mildly distracted in the dance.

But her ability to guard her emotions could only last so long and the longer she waited, the angrier she found herself growing. Half a dozen dances later, Sarah managed to snag Jareth again. By then she'd ground her teeth until her jaw ached, and her green eyes were savage on his. And she hated herself for the fury she was feeling, but that didn't change it. She would not suffer this from him now. "Just so you know, your majesty," she began, keeping her voice low and her tone much sweeter than the words, in case they were overheard. "Don't think I don't see them all flinging themselves at your feet. And, just to be clear, I am not amused."

His up-swept brows arched even higher in surprise; Sarah wanted to smack that look off his face. Her chin came up then, shoulders going back, spine stiffening as she stood ramrod straight. And now he had offended her. Evidently he'd thought she was blind to all the come-ons, subtle and otherwise. After all this time, how could he think she still saw with the eyes of that naïve girl? Emotionally distancing herself was hard, but not impossible. She would not let anyone, not even him, tread on her dignity.

Before he could respond, she leaned in close, nestling her lips again his ear before biting off each word. "At this point, I would sooner tear your heart out of your chest than watch you walk away." No warmth in that tone, the clear emotion in the blunt statement flooring her. It was the most honest she had been so far about her feelings on the matter, but her pride would not allow her to stop at that. Sarah was keeping as tight a lid as she could on her raging indignation, her inner self screaming at the top of her lungs and flinging chairs into mirrors. Not a ripple showed on her cheek, her brow, but she could feel the burn of her anger on her skin. How dare he think she was blind? She was not going through all of this again, forced to second-guess his motives and intentions. Not when she had fallen so hard, let him in so thoroughly. "And if you leave me, after all I've been through, all we've been through, I will kill you, Jareth. You will never even see it coming. Not after all I've given up for you since that first run."

She could see how the vehemence of those words startled him, but Jareth never missed a step in their dance. His arm around her waist, he spun her in a complicated measure. His next words were spoken against her hair, his breath warm on her cheek. "Sarah, you wound me. They are all prettiness and no substance. I am an owl; why would I trouble myself with such little hummingbirds when a falcon chooses to perch at my side?"

She drew back a little to meet his gaze even as golden light danced before hers; there was nothing playful in his eyes, and he did look hurt, though not so much that the others whirling through the dance would notice it. Well, the hell with that. She was hurt, too. How was she supposed to compete with this? It was foolish that she hadn't considered the complications more. "Really? What about when this isn't so new, when you've worked through the thrill of finally having me? When you know me inside out, Jareth, in all the ways you can. How will you see your pretty little human then, one that you've seen can never change further? What then? What fascination will it hold for you then, Goblin King? Let's see if you still think that way after a hundred years. Or even twenty. Hell, ten."

With that, the music paused, and she extricated herself from his embrace, not trusting herself to hear his reply when her vision sparkled golden like this. If he even had one to make. Sarah moved through the crowd, at last escaping to the back hallways of the castle, where the walls were honest sandstone and the chitter of goblins could be heard somewhere nearby. She crossed her arms and hugged herself, taking deep breaths, trying not to think about how that one girl with the violet hair would look with a chair smashed into her pretty elfin face. There were even more far-reaching consequences to her anger now and she would do well to remember that.

She never heard Jareth, only felt his arms around her. He should not have left the ballroom, should not have abandoned their guests. When she would've jerked away, he pulled her closer against his body. "My Sarah, my Champion, my Queen," he murmured, his voice rough. "How can you be so wise and so foolish at the same time? I am your King, Sarah. Yours, and yours, and yours, until the end of time. No other can tempt me, and all I want for ten and twenty and hundred hundred years is you." With that he kissed her neck, squeezing her more tightly.

Biting her lip, Sarah fought the shudder that was trapped in her chest, the tears of frustration and hurt welling in her eyes. Wanting to hate the relief she felt at his reassurances, she found she couldn't. It was so very like the child she had been to have risen to the bait of jealousy, though the threat she had felt had been all too real. Very, very rarely was she shaken from the things she wanted these days, but this… What the hell was wrong with her? She had thought herself ready to handle anything his world could dish out. And here she was, breaking over one evening of being presented to the younger ones of his kind. Looking back over the things she'd witnessed in her own world, the situations she'd faced down within her job, this should have been simple. Almost relaxing. And yet…

"You're saying this now, Jareth. It sounded good lying there in bed, in our own little world in the Underground, but how the hell are we going to make this work? We're idiots to think that there's a chance in hell that I'm right for this part of things. I'm in over my head and we both know it. Maybe … I don't know… Maybe making me an obvious part of all of this, trying to make me visible as Queen, was a…" It stung her heart to say the things that roared through her mind, but holding them back wasn't an option, either.

When Jareth spoke, his voice was stern. "If you say 'mistake', my Sarah, I will bite you. And while our guests can certainly think of an obvious explanation for why we would both be absent, they would be shocked if you returned with a bleeding ear." He did nip at her then, worrying her earlobe with a growl worthy of Didymus.

Sarah tipped her head away, shrugging her shoulders to loosen his grip. "Stop that. I feel like a fool, Jareth. It's one thing to be your Queen and the Champion here in the Underground. It's another thing to have to deal with all of them. Before you told me about it, I hadn't planned to deal with anything outside the Labyrinth. I never even knew for sure how much wider the world was within the Underground. I … I didn't sign up for this part of it, Jareth." Just to make a tally of the ways she was hating herself, this admission assigned itself as well.

"You signed up for me, and all I entail, as I signed up for you and your world and all that you are. I cannot believe you are so unsettled by that pack of feckless fops. Sarah, you bested a king in his own realm, and you quail before a bunch of petty nobles?" he asked, disbelieving.

"I told you, I never expected to be on display to your kind, Jareth! Not until you told me after I agreed! And to make it all worse, they're all laughing at me, Jareth," Sarah snapped, turning in his embrace to glare at him. Yes, the honesty of what she'd been feeling in the last few weeks was edging its way to the top of the failure list in her mind. Leave it to him to not understand something like this. Arrogance being his gift, he'd likely never felt this way, ever. "I don't know if it's my physical age, or the fact that I'm not your standard faerie-ring-kidnapped teenager any longer, or if they all just think it's a great joke, having a human queen here. It could even be our past. But they're sizing me up, and finding me wanting, and more than a few of them would like to try my crown and throne on for size. Or at least try you on. Likely for the second time or more. Despite years of having a shot before I showed up. Don't try to tell me there's not an ex or two or two dozen out there."

"I would never lie to you, Sarah. Yes, there are some here tonight who have warmed my bed in years past—or I warmed theirs. But it is you who rule my kingdom and share my throne, Sarah. And only you sharing my bed. That is very much to my satisfaction, as none of them is your equal." He gave her another squeeze then. "As for their laughter, they are fae. When we feel ourselves over-matched, we mock rather than show our weakness. I would think you had learned that of me. Did I not scold and scorn you, trying to keep you from laying waste to my realm and my heart?"

He caught her chin then, not allowing her to hide the broken confidence the way she'd like. Knowing the way that her lower lip trembled, Sarah felt a brief flash of hatred. She tried to pull out of his grip; worse for him to have seen the anger in her eyes give way to insecurity. Fury, that she could handle him seeing. Hot and furious words, slammed doors, the loud sound of her boot heels clacking down the corridor away from him, all of that was just fine. Watching her struggle? There wasn't a shame worse to her. As much as she loved him, showing weakness outside of their time alone was something she refused to do. It was a painful to meet his eyes, knowing what he'd see there. Her pride burned. And this was how she planned to meet forever? The outlook didn't look so good at the moment.

But he spoke the truth about himself. He had always talked a good game, then and now. As long as she had known him, he'd shown the same behavior pattern. Taking a deep breath, trying to quell her tangled emotions and that haze in her eyes, Sarah examined the situation in light of that knowledge. She'd fallen for it, however briefly. Had she really entertained the thought of giving him up over this? He was right; the pair of them were a curiosity at the moment, a novelty for a variety of reasons. They were measuring her, sizing her up. The fact struck her now even as he spoke.

Jareth spoke then in a soothing murmur, half abashed at admitting his own faults, but willing her to see the rest of his kind with the same flinty eye she sometimes turned on him. "Sarah, Sarah, they are doing the same, for they see in you a threat. The once-exiled king now has a queen of strength and courage and rare beauty at his side. And you are a Champion of the Labyrinth as well, a warrior whose cunning and determination are unmatched. They are right to fear you."

Another deep breath, this one actually managing to calm her. As sweet as his phrasing was, it was true. She wasn't some shrinking violet to allow anyone, mortal or fae, to ride herd over her. Enough of this foolishness. Closing her eyes to steady herself, clearing her headspace of all her doubts, she felt the stronger when she opened them. Now, the golden shimmer had retreated again and she gave a sigh of relief. "Which is your way of saying to get my cowardly ass back in there." Her lips curled in a smirk, tilting her head to look up at him with eyes that were deadly serious. "But I mean it, Jareth. You gave that heart to me and I mean to keep them from even prying it out of my cold, dead hands." She couldn't resist adding, "Because it's only forever, you know. And for my will is as strong as yours…"

"Forever is not long enough to love you," he told her, smiling though his gaze was solemn. "My heart is yours for as long as it beats, Sarah. Even beyond that, into the shadowed lands of death. Anyone who dared try to take your place in my regard would quickly discover their folly. Owls mate for life, after all."

She managed a smile for him with that, knowing he wouldn't be content until he got it. One of many things that had changed these days. There was a beat and Sarah, giving a heavy sigh, wound her arms around his neck. "Yeah, I get the feeling somehow that I might love you, too." Burying her face in his shoulder, she gave herself a chance to settle and just absorb some of his affection. It was rare that she found herself this off-balance these days, and it was embarrassing to do it in front of him, but she felt it had been justified this time. She knew better now, would map out a better strategy for dealing with it going forward. She wasn't going to lose face again.

Another kiss, this time to her brow. "And if you worry that all of those beauties above are some sort of competition for you, remember this. I have lived my entire life among the fae, among such lovely faces and sparkling eyes. They seem exotic to you, but they are the backdrop of my childhood and exile. You are the rarest, most precious jewel here. Your mortality is incandescent within you, a beautiful flame burning in your gaze by which all of them would seek to warm themselves, were they not so threatened by you."

"So what happens if we go through with this? All the way?" It had a been a question forced to the back of her mind since they had first started negotiations as to her staying, one she was almost afraid of the answer to. Her voice was low when she asked it. She closed her eyes again then, memorizing the feel of his lips against her skin. It took her breath away for a moment to realize how much that thought hurt. She had never expected, even in their most intimate moments in those dreams, to love him as she did now. "What happens when I'm not mortal, anymore? What happens when I'm just another one of them? What happens when that girl, that fierce little girl you loved so much, is just as jaded as the rest, Jareth?"

He did think about it, wrapping her up in his embrace while he pondered. "You will never be one of them," Jareth said at last. "Wedding me will give you longevity, and let you keep your youth and strength far past the years when mortal age would leach them from you. But who and what you are will never change. I doubt very much that even centuries could make you less fierce, my love. As for jaded … I doubt that, too. There is too much wonder in the world."

Just like everything between us. It comes down to belief in the end. Always belief. Sarah leaned away a bit, looking up at him. "You're that sure of me? You trust me a lot more than I trust myself."

"Of course." A roguish smile then, and he added, "I can always trust you to be yourself, Sarah. No amount of enchanted peaches could change that."

Just as he knew it would, Sarah's whole expression changed. As did the weight on her heart, gone like smoke as she burst out laughing. Leave it to him to phrase it like that at a time like this. What had been a bone of contention between them in years past had become almost a running joke, usually earning him an elbow in the side. Now she only wrinkled her nose at him, the glare in her eyes far more gentle now than earlier. "Shut up, Your Majesty," she muttered, playfully shoving him away from her. "You really are the worst, you know that? It will never end with that peach, will it? I should have known better. I really should have. 'We must not look at goblin men'…"

"You've tasted more than goblin fruit, Sarah, and if you know that poem, you'll recall that the second taste is the cure for the first." His grin was wicked, made more so by her scornful pout at him, and Jareth's hand at her waist slipped down to give her hip an affectionate squeeze. "Come now, my Sarah. Show these petty nobles how a queen deals with jealous courtiers. Hold your proud head high, and pity them their fears. For none of them could ever win me from you."

Jareth leaned in and kissed her brow again. "Besides, you are the rightful Queen of Umardelin, you won your place when you defeated my Labyrinth, not once but twice. I have no hope of keeping my kingdom unless I have you by my side, my love."

She had to smile again, that he would take that tack with it, when he'd held the realm on his own for quite some time before he even knew she existed. Nevertheless, she let him flatter her. As usual, he'd chosen the right words for the situation and her fears were now dust and shadows revealed for what they were. Taking what felt like her thousandth deep breath of the hour, Sarah straightened her spine, chin rising to look up at him. They don't get to win. Not after the hell I went through to be here. This was my victory, and it always will be. No one can take it from me. I won't let them. Reaching up to right her circlet, she nodded solemnly , locking her emotions back down. Not a hair out of place, not a doubt troubling her brow. Turning in his arms, Sarah stepped back and caught his elbow. Though her eyes still sparkled with mischief, her face was utter calm. As the Queen of Umardelin should be. Above all of their foolishness. "Lead on, Goblin King. Let's teach them that the rulers of this kingdom could care less. They didn't affect us before; why should they now?"

Tucking her hand more neatly into the crook of his elbow, Jareth favored her with a dazzling smile that reached all the way to his mismatched eyes. "Most true, my Queen. Let us go forth and rule. After all, for one such as you, it should be…" The smile became a smirk, wicked and wonderful, as he lead her back to the ballroom. "… a piece of cake."

Those who had come to take their measure, to see if this human would make a worthy queen, or if the king could be swayed from her, turned as one when the pair reentered the ball. They could not help but look, for Sarah arrived laughing, her head thrown back and her dark hair spilling down her back like an inky waterfall. And her king's eyes on her were full of such admiration and devotion that a hundred hopes of replacement died on the instant.

Lyselle saw them, too. The spell had not quite worked as planned and hatred burned in her belly like poison.