I am still writing, I promise. Just very very slowly. I have crazy amounts of essays to write and parties to plan. Turning twenty on Wednesday - woooo! Let's hope the goblins don't gatecrash my birthday...

Sarah stirred the pot, and the rich, meaty smell of the stew made her stomach growl. It was quite some time since she'd had food as good as this. She grinned in hungry anticipation and thought about how good it would be to have food, both for her and the child. He'd been growing all too thin, lately, and not even his loving embrace when she picked him up could assuage the growing panic. Not him. Anything but him. I can't lose him.

She left the stew to bubble on its own for a moment or two and went over to the cradle where he lay, under all the blankets she could find. He wasn't shivering – thank goodness. His beautiful blue eyes were open, and when he saw her hovering over him, a smile curved his sweet baby lips.

"Lovely one!" She reached in and picked him up, her hands sure and gentle around him as she cradled her child to her chest. "Hush, dear," she murmured as he began to whimper, no doubt wanting something to eat. "It will be ready soon. I'll sing you your daddy's song."

The baby closed his eyes contently as she hummed him the familiar melody. I'll be there for you, as the world falls down… She tucked him back into the cradle and turned to the stew. It tasted absolutely delicious, and it was ready to eat. Finally –

A cry from behind her. She turned, panicked, and ran to the cradle, drew back the covers with a beating heart –

Instead of her beautiful son, a goblin looked back at her, ugly, twisted, its beady eyes glinting in the firelight.

She screamed, and then suddenly there were goblins all over her, on her chest, her legs, suffocating her, pinning her down…

Sarah woke with a start, her arms flailing, and gasped when she realised that there really was something heavy on her legs. "What?" she said breathlessly into the darkness. "Who's there?" She tried to kick the pressure away, and it shifted – it was alive. She smothered a shriek. Were the goblins playing tricks on her?

"Good evening, prrrrecious. Or should that be good morning by now?" was the last thing she expected to hear. She struggled to pull herself into a sitting position, and attempted to peer through the darkness.

"Jareth? What on earth – what are you doing on my bed?"

"I lose track of time, you see," he went on in his smooth, light voice that even at stupid o'clock at night did funny things to her inside. "It all goes topsy turvy and upside down…"

"Jareth?" Sarah reached out and switched on her bedside lamp. The artificial light shone on his angular features and he blinked in the sudden glare. He had shadows under his eyes, and his hair was a little more wild than usual, but otherwise he looked as he always did.

"Yes, my love."

"Are you going to answer my question?"

"That's why I'm here," he answered, sounding surprised. "To answer your que… letter. Letter question. Question letter. Don't you love playing with words, Sarah-mine? I do."

A sudden realisation was dawning on her along with the memory of Jumble's report. "Jareth, are you drunk?"

"Drunk?" he said indignantly, and to prove his point, got up off the bed and stood there with his arms crossed – swaying as if in an invisible wind. "I am not drunk, princess. Goblin kings do not get drunk. I am – " he enunciated carefully – "in-tox-i-cat-ed by your presence."

"Oh, brilliant. What a way to start the day," muttered Sarah. She picked up her phone and wasn't particularly astonished to see that it was three in the morning. Wonderful. "All right, Jareth, what do you want?"

"I came to tell you that I graciously accept your apology, and I'm willing to accept any other favours you choose to bestow upon me in repentance." He leered down at her and she rolled her eyes.

"No, really, Jareth, I think I'll pass, thank you. Okay, you've accepted my apology – now you need to go home to bed, okay?"

He swayed again, and stumbled, and she got out of bed herself, suddenly alarmed. What if he fell over and banged his head on something? Being irritated and wishing he'd disappear was one thing – she didn't want him dead.

"Just sit down, idiot," she said sharply, moving towards him as if to push him down. He just grinned at her, and then quite abruptly where a moment before there had been empty space between them there was a very real and solid Goblin Monarch. He'd pinned her to him with both arms and was holding her very tightly indeed.

"Only if you'll sit with me," he purred in her ear.

Sarah tried to catch her breath and ignore how loudly her body was clamouring at her to just melt into his embrace and pull him even closer. "No," she said firmly (more or less), "sit down before you hurt yourself."

Jareth looked down at her and quirked one side of his mouth up in a sly smile. His gaze wasn't clouded, nor were his words slurred, and he didn't even smell of ale – all the same, he was very clearly not himself. "Very well," he said silkily, and then he made an unexpected movement, and she squeaked, and overbalanced, and the next thing she knew she was sitting on the Goblin King's lap.

"Jareth," she huffed, trying ineffectually to break his iron grip round her waist, "let go of me."

"No," he said stubbornly. She gave up. He was far too strong for her, and besides she had an idea that too much wriggling would just worsen matters.

"Ugh, fine! You are so annoying." She crossed her arms, looking steadfastly away from him, and waited for his usual mode of attack – nuzzling neck, insinuating whispers, the lot. But he didn't reply, or move other than to shift so that she was comfortably ensconced in his embrace across his lap, and she felt a slight tinge of worry. "Jareth…?"

When she looked back up at him, his face was sterner than before, the impish smile replaced by a faraway expression. She had to fight an urge to snuggle into him and see if that would erase the sadness in his eyes.

"I let them down," he said, so quietly that she wasn't even sure if she'd heard correctly.

"Who?" she whispered, watching his face in fascination. His grip on her was burning through her clothes, almost distracting enough to take her attention away from what he was saying, but not quite.

"My parents," he answered, almost inaudibly. He didn't look round at her sharp intake of breath, but she felt his fingers flex.

"Do you want to tell me about it?"

"No," he said immediately, and then he did move: he let go of her waist and put his head down on her chest, holding her there with his arms, in a gesture so tender and vulnerable that it made her catch her breath again. Tentatively, Sarah brought her own arms round and let them settle lightly on his back. She wondered if he could hear how quickly her heart was beating. She opened her mouth to say something useless, and closed it again.

"I'm sorry," she murmured softly.

"It was my fault," he said into her chest. "I knew that they were in danger, and I didn't warn them in time. I could have done. I know I could, but I didn't try – I didn't push myself hard enough – and then it was too late."

"Hush," she soothed him, gently, as she might a child. "It's in the past, Jareth. You can't change it."

"No, you can't," he said bitterly, and there was a whole world of loneliness in his words. "I can move the stars, I can turn the world upside down, I can re-order time, but I can't even save my own parents' lives. What does that say about me, Sarah?"

Sarah stroked his hair for a moment before answering. It felt like silk beneath her fingertips. "It says that even you have to obey the rules sometimes," she said softly. "And that doesn't make you any less strong."

"Doesn't it?" She wasn't sure if he was mocking her or actually asking for reassurance.

"Of course not!" How could she put it into words for him? "Jareth, admitting that you made a mistake or that you don't have the ability to do something isn't a declaration of weakness. It shows that you're honest with yourself. That's important."

He lifted his head just far enough off her chest so that he could look up at her for a moment, beseechingly, as if he was afraid that she was lying. She stared steadily down into that burning gaze, willing him to believe her.

And perhaps he did, for the side of his mouth twitched upwards in a half-smile, half-grimace, and he laid his ear back against her. Was he listening to her heartbeat? His breath was warm against her chest through the thin layer of material.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, her sanity was screaming something about compromising positions and letting him get away with too much, but she was too comfortable to move. Besides, she told herself firmly, he needed her right now.

Sarah was a sucker for being needed.

Yeah, so, this was originally only half of a crazy long chapter, but it was taking me so long to type up the follow-up that I cut it in half and decided you guys would probably rather have it now than have to wait a week or so for the whole thing. It's not *too* short I hope.

Thanks as always for your reviews... you lot keep me (in)sane. I'm glad the general reaction to Hoggle was favourable, hooray! And ditto about Sarah. To be fair she is only human - as Jareth likes to remind her. Frequently.

As for requests, hopefully there will be more development in their relationship over the next two chapters - let me know whether you like it or not. And glittery cupcakes will make an appearance at some point, I promise :D

Oh, also, I know the dream thing is weird. Literally the first thing that came into my head. Feel free to read as much as you want into the fact that in Sarah's dream, she's had a baby with the Goblin King.

Also, not gonna lie, adorably-drunk-and-handsy Jareth is pretty much the only thing that could wake me up at 3am without me killing somebody.

All my love, goblins and goblinettes.