DISCLAIMER: I don't own Labyrinth or any of the characters associated with the film. They are the property of the Jim Henson Company.

Sarah had made good on her statement and had not joined them for dinner, so Jareth had made good on his. Sarah had enjoyed a rather elaborate, exotic, but overall decidedly English meal in her bedchambers without any interruptions from the ice cold duo. Not that she had expected any. She now sat by her window, staring out at the Goblin City. She couldn't sleep no matter how hard she tried. She was conflicted as to what to do about Toby. He was a child, an innocent, and he should be left that way. Why couldn't Jareth wait to make that offer until Toby had some life experience? Sarah was also infuriated with herself. She'd really lost it earlier with Jareth, and the interaction had been a little too uncontrolled and too close for comfort. She was glad that Toby had inadvertently stopped her and Jareth from continuing. Lord knows she wanted to, but with what ramifications? Would she be making herself into the Goblin King's whore, as Toby had said, giving herself up to one more empty relationship? Did he love her at all, or better still, had he ever? Sarah frowned at her reflection in the window. She wasn't sure what to think of either Toby or Jareth.

She stood up and smoothed her dress out, checking herself once in the mirror. She had chosen a white shift, reminiscent of a simple 19th century frock. The dress itself was made of white muslin, with three-quarter sleeves, and a skirt which hung loosely and flowed to the floor. It was adorned along the edges of the sleeves and skirt, and along its square neckline with tiny, iridescent beads. Sarah had attempted, with the use of several ribbons stolen from less-than-savoury nightgowns, to tie her hair up in a tight bun which had unravelled slightly, leaving tendrils hanging freely around her face and down the back of her neck. She snuck up to the heavy door and rested her ear to it. She could hear nothing, and then cracked the door open to peek out into the hallway. The cold stone walls were illuminated with the orange glow of torches and not a soul could be seen. Confident that she would not be discovered, she pushed the door open fully and padded off down the corridor. Sarah could see the opening to the throne room from her present vantage point and slowed her pace considerably. She peered around the corner into the room, relieved to find it empty save the few goblins strewn across the floor, snoring. Satisfied that she would not be interrupted, she moved on down the hallway, playfully sneaking into each room she passed.

Sarah knew that the rooms on her left were bedrooms and she silently wondered which one was Toby's. She daren't peek into the rooms for fear of coming across Jareth or any other guests that he was hiding. Also, a teenager's room is his world, and an angry teenager would be even less amused to find his sister poking around in his room. Sarah decided to ignore the doors on the left side of the hall and focus on those on the right. She came across a set of double-doors extending from the floor to the ceiling. Curiosity had her and she pushed them open with all her might. Inside, she found the dining hall. A hall was exactly the way to describe it; the room was enormous. The table was long and wide, made of a deep mahogany wood which had been polished to reflect the bright moonlight coming through the tall windows on her left. Sarah's lips parted at the view of the labyrinth to be had from this vantage point of the castle. The dining hall was perfectly situated to impress and intimidate. Sarah found herself drawn to the windows, which like the doors, spanned from the floor to the ceiling. She stood there for several moments, in the dark room, drinking in the sight of the sleeping labyrinth. She did not turn when the door opened behind her and she did not notice the light of a single candle in the hand of the intruder.

Jareth had entered the room, and upon seeing Sarah in the window, blew out his candle. For a moment he thought that he had been graced with the presence of an angel with the way the moonlight illuminated Sarah's form. She almost cast an ethereal glow around her. He stood at the head of the table watching her in silence. She had not acknowledged his presence and was staring out across his labyrinth in wonder. He approached her slowly, as though approaching a bird, for fear that she would fly away. Finally he stood next to her, watching her expression carefully. Her eyes drifted towards him for a moment, but immediately returned to the labyrinth. Jareth followed her gaze across through the window. From this point, the Goblin City was low enough in elevation to be lost on the viewer, all that could be seen was the great, and glorious expanse of the labyrinth itself. Jareth held his hands behind his back and stood still as well, lost in the majesty of his own lands.

"Did you make all this?" she asked without turning to face him. Jareth glanced at her, deciding on whether to tell her the truth or not. He decided that it would not benefit him to lie to her…in this case.

"Not entirely," he said, no longer watching her. She turned her face towards him, looking for a hint of a lie. There was none. He turned his face back to hers.

"This land, this castle – it was here, abandoned and desolate. A kingdom forgotten," his voice had become a mere whisper with the memory of a time long before she was born.

"And, you took it over? Made it your own?"

"In a way. The goblins ran free amongst the ruined labyrinth, and they lacked any form of government. The more intelligent of the breed had requested that I help them."

"How?" Sarah paused realizing how vague her question was, "I mean, how did they know to ask you? And, I suppose, how did you do it? Is your magic that powerful? You are human, after all."

Jareth nodded, a tiny smirk playing on the corners of his mouth. "I was young and impetuous, and I made certain…alliances…that I am still to this day not proud of. I sought to expand my magical abilities, and I stretched myself to the limits."

Sarah looked at him, only partially understanding. "Is it the same magic that Toby is learning?"

Jareth's eyes flashed with something indiscernible before he responded sharply, "No, he must never know that magic."

"How will you stop him?"

"I'll watch him, I'll make sure."

Sarah stared at him for a moment, expressionless. "Let me bring him home."

"That is not an option, Sarah," Jareth said, turning his face from hers once more.

"But, my parents," she started.

"The parents that you both despise? The parents that have denied him his whole life? All he ever had was a sister who cared enough to spend hours in a strange land, risking everything to save him," he looked at her face, magnificent in the moonlight, "Why would you wish that mediocre life upon him? Upon yourself?"

Sarah turned to him, anger flashing in her eyes.

"I have a life," she spat indignantly.

"A loveless one," he replied, gazing upon the expanse of his labyrinth.

Sarah ignored the comment and continued to glare at him, "I have my writing."

Jareth turned to her at this point, giving her a look that told her how lame her excuse was. She frowned miserably and turned from him again.

"He's a child," she whispered.

"Age is more than a number. He is no longer the child you once knew."

Sarah felt tears welling up in her eyes. Jareth spoke the truth. In the year that she had been in England, Toby had matured in a way not perceptible through phone lines. She could not bring Toby back; he would merely find a way to return to this land. If she didn't have Toby, she really didn't have anything Aboveground. Sure, she had superficial friends, acquaintances really. The person she was most close to was her editor, Kurt, and what a tragic friendship they had, wasting their first year by being bed buddies. She was glad that they had both walked away from that unscathed. No, there was nothing for her up there. She wasn't sure what she felt for Jareth, but she did know that it involved a strong attraction, and she couldn't abandon Toby. She sighed in resignation, but she would not agree to stay here until she knew one tiny, little detail. She turned to Jareth, her green eyes hard with resolution.

"Do you love me?"

Jareth raised his eyebrows in surprise, "I offered you everything."

"That doesn't mean anything. You demanded that I fear you, that I love you, and that I let you rule me. You never said anything about loving me."

"And, I said that I would be your slave."

"Slaves are not known for loving their masters."

Jareth regarded her in silence for a moment, as though debating if it was worth it for him to say the words. She tried to convey with her eyes that she had no intent of using the information to harm him. This did not seem to matter to him. Jareth's eyes held a faraway look, and he was truly torn.

"I offered you everything," he whispered, "Isn't that enough?"

Sarah shook her head, "I need to hear the words."

Jareth flinched, "They're just words."

"And, words mean everything," she replied, irritated with his lack of commitment. Jareth was just the same as the rest of them. Sarah wondered to herself whether she really wanted to hear the words if they would be empty, but she knew somehow that they wouldn't be. And, yet, this knowledge wasn't enough for her.

"Need or want?"

"Need."

Jareth closed the distance between them, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close.

"Must you hear them?" he asked, desperately. Before Sarah had a chance to answer he had leaned down to kiss her gently. The kiss conveyed everything that he felt but could not verbalize. When they broke, Sarah had tears in her eyes. She needed to hear it. She needed to be loved, she needed it so urgently.

"Jareth," she pleaded in his ear, lost in the warmth of his embrace. Although Sarah could not see the action, Jareth closed his eyes in fear. He leaned his head against hers and whispered in her ear.

"Sarah, I love you."

A sob caught in her throat and she clutched him closer to her. His words had not been empty. There was a certain edge to his voice that told her he had feared the words that had escaped his lips. The fear proved his honesty to her. Sarah finally released him and allowed her head to fall back accepting of another kiss. Jareth obliged because he did love her, he had loved her for so long. The words had escaped his lips and all was lost, but she loved him back. He only hoped that the terms had been forgotten over the past 160 years. He began to relax into the kiss, allowing the warmth and softness that was Sarah to encompass him, allowing himself to love as he never had before. And, then he heard it. That familiar but forgotten hiss, sinisterly raping his mind.

This signifies the beginning of the end.

Jareth pulled away from Sarah abruptly, terror blanching his features. He stared at her confused face and gripped her arms with a fierceness he rarely displayed, as though she would disappear if he let her go.

"What's wrong?" she asked, concerned more for him than herself, crushed under his hands. Jareth seemed to remember that she was there and loosened his grip on her arms.

"Nothing," he whispered hoarsely, feigning a small smile. Sarah gave him an incredulous stare.

"Nothing?" she asked, unconvinced. Jareth wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly and not answering her question. She returned the embrace, yielding her body to his. He leaned his cheek on the top of her head.

"I do love you," he whispered. Sarah smiled in his chest.

"I love you, too."

Jareth tensed in her arms. He had not expected her to admit love so soon. He stood holding her, completely rigid, expecting the next assault on his brain. It came with a fury, laughing harshly.

"It is late," he said, detachedly, "We should retire."

Sarah looked up at him concerned. She nodded even though she had no need to sleep at the moment. Something had frightened Jareth and she didn't know what it was. It was pretty clear that he was not going to tell her right now, so she may as well allow him the sleep he so desired. He offered his arm, and led her back to her room in silence. Sarah's brow furrowed in confusion. What had changed? He stopped outside of her door, still distracted, lost in thought. Sarah reached up lightly and pulled his face down to hers into a soft kiss.

"Good night, Jareth."

"Good night, Sarah," he replied, with the same detached air he'd replied earlier. Sarah frowned, but disappeared inside her room in silence.

Jareth stood for a moment, staring at the door, for inside lay the princess he must never possess. He turned on his heel and stalked towards his chamber, slamming the heavy door behind him.

AN: There is a line in this chapter completely dedicated to R.H. Jones, she knows which one. Well, my beta may quit on me within the next couple of chapters. She doesn't like where I'm going. But, I do. Poor, suffering characters. BWA HAHAHA! ;)