A small hand grips his wrist and he stares down at this beautiful and infuriating woman with the thoughts of millennia in his eyes. It can't be true, it can't be true. His power is absolute, this is a fluke. His mind constructs a defense made of lies and desperate grasps at slim possibilities. His loyalty as king to the Labyrinth is being tested, his resolve being strenuously pounded. This little girl cannot hold the power of the Labyrinth. It is his; he won it. She's lying, this girl who stole his heart with a few recited lines from a book. His magic is as much a part of him as his soul, only death could rip it out of him… she doesn't have that power over him. No, this is a test. If the Labyrinth had truly wanted a new sovereign, it would have killed him.

No kingdom is as great as his, no king as powerful.

He will not let her win again. To stand aside and let her rule would be forsaking his very vows as king… but his ancient heart melts a little as those cruel eyes fill with concern for what she is about to show him. He doesn't break her gaze as the air around them moves, the oubliette dissolving away to allow the goblin houses to rise up in the night sky. She takes him to the empty square, the center of the city, and drops her hand from his wrist when the stone under their feet solidifies. He smells the faint odors of death and filth before he takes his eyes from her face. He turns his head to take in the sight of his great city brought to ruin and his legs can't support his pain. He falls to his knees and stares at the stone underneath him. His hands grip the sides of his head and all the air in his lungs is rushing out, trying to rid his body of the pain of failure. A king should protect his kingdom.

Jareth feels a pressure on his shoulder and a soft voice says, "Jareth, I'm so sorry."

She's sorry. She caused this; her words trapped him in a dirt hole and condemned his people to die, and she says she's sorry. He hadn't even known. He gave her the power to destroy him, but she only did half the job. She only destroyed his legacy as king and left him alive to wallow in the loss of his magic and grief over his people. She told him her story, how she shattered this kingdom and then tried to tape it back together. Does she want his gratitude? Does she want him to thank her for rejecting him, robbing his people of their provider, embracing the title which she did not earn, and then propping the kingdom up on the promise of her goodness? Hatred rises up in him like a tide. Queen Sarah.

His hate gives him something to hang onto, a handle in the ocean of this grief. He inhales, the pressure of her shaking hand still on his shoulder. He stands slowly, letting her hand fall away. He clenches his own hands into fists and the painful blisters give him something else to focus on. He can feel her concern and the thought makes him sick. If she had been able to look past her stubborn childlike fantasies, she would have been able to see what he was offering her. He would have given her the dreams she clings so fervently to, but she made him the villain instead. The moonlight washes over the burned buildings and filthy streets.

"You're sorry?" He hisses, still facing away from her. He would hear her utter those justifications, those excuses.

"Y-yes. I know what you're feeling—"

"Do you?" He turns to face her, and his face is completely calm.

"Well, I felt like this too. That's why I had to come back, to do what I could to set it right." Her voice is shaking and her green eyes fill with tears. He's never seen her cry before.

"So you thought you would kill off most of my kingdom, throw it into chaos, and then bring me back in time to see you steal my throne, and my subjects' loyalty? You are exceedingly cruel. Please, you precious, precious thing, tell me what you want from me!" He's losing control, his hate slipping in the war with his desire for her. After everything, his idiotic heart still wants her. Her tears are battering at his defenses. He thinks of his magic, the goblins, and the cold hate moves through him again. He uses all of his centuries of practice to harden his heart against her.

He expects her to rant and rage at him. He's geared for a fight and is relishing the thought of destroying her, getting some small revenge against her for what she's done in refusing him. He does not expect her to close her eyes in defeat, to bow her head and say quietly, "You're right. This was my fault and you have every right to blame me. I'm so sorry." And he's disarmed again. All he wants to do is comfort her when ten seconds ago he was anticipating shoving everything she's done in her face. For the first time in his life, he wants to comfort someone, and be comforted in return. Sarah has no idea how close she came to forgiveness when she continues with, "But you can't tell me that you aren't to blame at all for this. If you had been truthful with me from the beginning, this might all have been avoided. Instead, you were focused on playing your game. I take responsibility for what happened to the goblins and to you, but I expect you to be able to do the same."

He's paralyzed by his conflicting emotions. Her words are both knives in his heart and ammunition for his strike. He teeters on the edge of attacking or accepting. The conflict shows in his expressions, emotions exploding behind his eyes and across his face. Sarah watches him with trepidation, preparing herself for the attack. Jareth takes a deep breath and his expression calms.

"I do take responsibility for this," he gestures at the city. "I let you run my Labyrinth and I gave you a choice in the end… Do you know that you're the first human ever to beat the Labyrinth since it was entrusted to me?" She nods. He tilts his head back to look up at the night sky. His mind is in the ballroom. Sarah was in his arms, and he knew everything had changed. He had meant to take her time away from her, make her lose the game. Instead, he lost himself in her. He sang to her and she looked at him like he was the only man she ever wished to dance with again. When she broke away from him, he felt nothing but pain. No bitterness, none of his wounded pride, just the pain of his arms being empty when she should have been in them. It killed him, but even the pain had been better than the void he had been before she appeared in his life.

And now she was killing him again. He lowers his gaze to look down at her. She stares back, confusion coloring her features. He could submit, and he knows she would accept him. They could rebuild this city together and spend the nights in each other's arms. He wants it. But he cannot change who he is. He's a fae, a magical being and one who cannot abide sitting by whilst another uses his magic to rule his people. He can admit that he loves her, but no, she had her chance at happiness with him and she threw it in his face. He can already feel it, the emptiness in his being where the magic used to be. It's a part of him and he can't just let it go.

He's been staring at her for a long time, thinking. She raises her eyebrows. "Jareth?" He tenses slightly every time she says his name as if she were his equal. If a subject had addressed him by his given name, he would have bogged them on the spot. As he watches his name form on those beautiful lips, he decides he likes the sound from her. She wants to be his equal, does she?

"What do you want of me, Sarah?" he asks again, his eyes narrow. "Honestly, how do I fit into this new kingdom?"

Sarah takes a deep breath and exhales in a huff. "I told you, I didn't mean to become queen. I don't want you to not be king." Her eyes widen as she realizes what she's said. Jareth raises his left eyebrow. "I mean, not king to my queen, but like a separate…" she waves her hands back and forth, searching for the right word, "ruler. You know?"

"What, you want to split it?" he mocks.

She rolls her eyes, back to the rebellious Sarah he knows. "No. Honestly, I hadn't thought much further than finding you. I didn't prepare for this."

"Finding me alive, you mean."

She looks away. "Well, yes. And especially finding you without magic," she blurts thoughtlessly. She looks up to find him grinding his teeth and flaring his nostrils in anger. "I'm sorry."

He closes his eyes to gather himself. Gods, she makes him insane. He's starting to get over the shock of seeing his city brought to its knees, but the loss of his magic is not something easily gotten over. "Well, I am here. Without magic. You're the queen, what do you want me to do? Leave? Live as a goblin? What?" he sneers.

Sarah puts a hand to her forehead. "I guess… I don't want you to leave. I'd never wish anyone to live as a goblin." She closes her eyes, thinking. Then she snaps them open wide. "I've got it! Do you want to make the Goblin Kingdom strong again?"

Jareth considers her through narrowed eyes before saying hesitantly, "Of course I do."

Sarah smiles at him and he melts again. He's never seen that smile aimed at him. "Then, why don't you help me? I never meant to be queen, I just couldn't find you. Now I have the magic from the Labyrinth and no idea how to use it. Help me. Help me rebuild the city and learn to protect it, to use my magic to be a good ruler. We can set everything right again and in the meantime, we can try to figure out ways for you to get your magic back!" Sarah finishes excitedly. Jareth turns away from her and paces, deep in thought. She may have grown in the time he'd been gone, but she is still so young. Jareth knows the histories of the Goblin Kingdom and the Fae. Every book, every expert, says the same on the subject of the magic of the Labyrinth. It is won in blood. Never before has a sovereign's magic been taken without his or her death, until now. There is no precedent.

Jareth, for once in his long life, doesn't know what to do. He knows what he should do-he knows it exactly. He should put a knife through Sarah's heart. The magic that fills her is his, and he should take it. He also knows that to do so would destroy him. Yes, he would have his magic and his kingdom back, but he would have to exist in a world without Sarah Williams in it. He would have to watch the life go out of her green eyes and see the betrayal there. Then he would sit on his throne and sink back into the void. He can't live like that.

But what is the alternative? He cannot let himself be merely an advisor to a queen who nearly destroyed the kingdom he once ruled. It would be a betrayal to his kingdom, his race, his training, and his very self. He would watch this girl use his magic to run his kingdom the way she wants to. The goblins would run wild and it would be chaos, she hasn't the discipline for complete sovereignty.

He could… wait. He could wait. He could see if she meant it when she said they could rule together. He could try to figure out a way to take his magic back without taking her life. If he can't… he would kill her. He can't risk his kingdom falling into disarray and death again because of an incompetent ruler. Jareth trained for years in the Fae kingdom before he made his bid for the Goblin throne; there is simply no possible way for her to be a competent queen so quickly. With or without his help, she would make mistakes. If he sees that she is putting his kingdom in unnecessary risk, he will end it. He will condemn himself to the life after because that is what a king must do. But there is no reason it has to be done just yet…

Jareth ceases his pacing and smiles at Sarah. "Alright, Precious. I will help you, but I have conditions. First, this will be a joint rule. I am still king, but I acknowledge that you are queen. We rule together, but you will defer to me as far as politics go. We both agree that I know far more about ruling a kingdom than you do and I expect you to heed my commands when it comes to the wellbeing of our subjects. Secondly, when I train you to control the magic, you will follow my direction exactly—"

"Wait, wait." Sarah holds up her hands, palms toward Jareth. "All I'm hearing is that I'll do what you say all the time. That's not how a partnership works."

Jareth gives a frustrated huff. "Sarah, magic is a dangerous thing. If you do not listen to me, you could do serious harm to yourself or others. If you try to use it before you are ready, it will backfire most severely, and in ways you won't expect. Outside of the training sessions, we have the same level of authority, unless I think you are acting in a way that may be detrimental to the kingdom." He looks down his nose at her and says mockingly, "Now can you admit that I know more about being a king than you do?"

Sarah clenches her jaw. "Yes," she growls.

"Good. Remember that I have the best interests of the kingdom at heart and that everything I tell you to do will be the result of hundreds of years of training and thousands of years of rule." Her eyes go wide. "Impressive, is it not? Do you agree to my conditions?" Sarah sighs but nods her head. He smiles at her and holds out his hand. "Shall we shake on it?"

Sarah puts her hand cautiously in his. He sees her hesitation and chuckles, "Come, come, Sarah. If we are to be partners, you must learn to trust me." Sarah rolls her eyes and takes her hand from his blistered one. He hides a wince. "Tomorrow I would like to be taken on a tour of the city to assess the damage in the daylight. Then we will plan what needs to be done to get the kingdom back in order."

"You know, I've done pretty well on that front already. We've already got the harvest in and the water pipes fixed. All the bodies have been taken care of, so really all we need to do is clean the city."

"You're forgetting that the Underground is rooted in magic. It cannot be mended in a matter of months with a few goblin work parties. This kingdom will not thrive until its magic is put into balance again. But we'll talk about that tomorrow after I've seen everything. For now, Precious, I am dreadfully exhausted, as you can imagine."

""""

Sarah feels her own eyelids growing heavy and agrees that the planning and explanations can wait until tomorrow. She reaches out to grasp Jareth's wrist again and without thinking, wishes them back to the castle, right outside her bedroom door. His bedroom door. Theirs? No, mine. Jareth yawns and opens the door, stepping inside.

"What are you doing?" Sarah asks quickly, rooted in the doorway.

He turns around to glance over his shoulder at her, eyebrows raised in surprise. "I'm going to bed. Why, care to join me?" He says with a smirk.

"No!" she answers quickly. He smiles wider. "This is my room."

He cocks his head at her, his expression confused. "I assure you, my dear, this is my room. I plan to take a bath and go to bed. I have been awake for three years, after all."

She stomps into the room, saying, "No, this is my room now. You're welcome to take your stuff and stay in one of the other…" Shit. His smile is a full-fledged grin now.

"Bedrooms?" He laughs.

Sarah narrows her eyes. "You're the one who made this castle with only one bedroom! Why would you do that?"

Jareth's smile fades slightly. "The castle resets after the death of its king or queen. When I was remaking it, I didn't see the need to add more than one bedroom. It would have been a waste of energy."

"Okay, then, tell me how to make one."

Jareth's face goes deathly serious as he quietly says, "Sarah, without any training you would most likely tear the whole castle down, at the very least. Do not attempt anything like that until I say you are ready, do you understand?"

His intensity makes her take a step back, but she nods. "Okay, I understand." She throws her hands up in exasperation. "But then what do we do about the sleeping arrangements? And don't you dare make some joke."

He throws his head back and laughs. "Oh I would never dream of joking at a time like this." He tries to straighten his face, but only succeeds in smirking at her again. "Sarah, I intend to be asleep in this room within the next twenty minutes. The sun will be rising in just a couple hours and I need to rest. I suggest you do the same."

Sarah looks frantically around the room for an escape. Her eyes land on the sofa next to the lit fireplace. "Okay, you take the sofa and I'll take the bed."

This time, the smile does disappear. "I'm not sleeping on the sofa."

"Well, then you're welcome to the floor or the bathtub. All I know is, neither me or my magic is going to let you in that bed."

Sorry for the slight delay on this one. Jareth is one tough character to write! I'm hoping to continue to update in quick succession, but as the story gets more complex, it might take some more time because I don't want to rush it and kill it. Please review, they help me so much both in motivation and in general story mechanics. Thanks for continuing to read!