When I reopen my eyes I see blue. Not the blue of the sky but that of a forget-me-not, just coming into bloom. It's the canopy of a bed – a luxurious four-poster one at that. Glancing to my left I can see sky and sea shades covering the carpet and walls. This must be why it's called the Blue Room.

I can feel the tears on my cheeks.

That was one of my worst dreams. It's hard to rank them but this is more-or-less right at the bottom – on a level with a few others.

I wipe the tears away, as I always do. It was just a dream.

There's a throbbing lump on the back of my head from where I hit the wall earlier and my hip is sore as well – that must have been from hitting the floor. What's wrong with me? That's the second time I've collapsed in 24 hours.

"Should I ask why I've - yet again - been summoned, only to find you unconscious?"

It seems someone else has been thinking along similar lines. I turn my head on the pillow to look to where he's leaning on the wall – startlingly similar in pose to in my odd dream.

"Not if you want an answer. I'm afraid I haven't got one."

"I thought not." He nodded; "Your knowledge of fae magic and its effects seems to be very limited; I did not expect you be aware of this feature – though I would have thought it wouldn't be difficult to work out."

His tone is condescending again.

I prop myself up on my elbows, the better to have a conversation: "You mean you know what's making me spontaneously faint every few hours?"

I'm slightly annoyed that he didn't mention this when he found me asleep the first time.

"I have theory." He replies nonchalantly.

"Care to share it?" I inquire, my voice starting to show my irritation.

"Perhaps…" he bares his teeth in that mischievous grin again; "What will an explanation get me? I've been relatively free with my answers to your questions thus far: it's about time I started exacting payment."

My eyes narrow; "Don't test me, Jareth. I'm really not in the mood for any more games – I did rather like being human, you know."

If anything the grin widens slightly.

"Is that a threat, precious? I'm afraid it's a rather unimpressive one. There's little you can do to me with your current lack of magical control."

"You'd be surprised what a good kick can do for me." I growl.

That makes his face a bit less cheerful. Though not nearly as much as I would like. He does relent however – those tights really do offer no protection.

"Very well, since you are clearly tried for patience. Be warned though; I will not be as obliging from now on."

"Duly noted." I snap: I don't like thinking about what his prices in future will be.

"Good."

He pushes off from the wall and comes to sit at the foot of the bed; I briefly consider trying to move away.

"It's quite simple, really."

I snort. Maybe to someone who's grown up around magic; sadly I haven't had such a luxury.

He ignores me and carries on; "I've already explained the effects that magic could have on you as a human: too much and you start suffering for it. Your… vulnerability, shall we say, while you are not fully fae also leaves you open to similar effects. Squeep tells me that you conjured a light crystal just before you passed out – a powerful one at that – and this seems to have been too much for your system: it therefore shut itself down to stop any more harm from coming to you."

I sit and digest this for a moment. He's right: it does make some sense.

"So, what you're saying," I say slowly; "is that I can't actually perform any magic until I'm fully fae? I have to wait until I've completely changed?"

The fact that I'm going to truly learn magic is one of the small comforts in this entire scenario. Now it seems I'll have to wait to get this – however small – incentive. I'm liking this even less than before.

But Jareth shakes his head; "On the contrary, my dear, it is possibly even more essential that you start learning as soon as possible. The more magic you learn to control, the faster you will change as your body tries to contend with it."

"But that makes no sense! If the magic could kill me, then surely using it is just going to keep making me faint and kill me faster!"

It may just be that the knock on my head has addled my brains, but his method seems completely ridiculous. But, yet again, I seem to be disappointing him with my reasoning, as he's shaking his head again; that superior grin still gracing his features. I feel a strong urge to slap him.

"Sarah," his use of my name sends an involuntary shiver down my spine, I realize that since he's reappeared in my life he's only used it once or twice; "so long as we stay within certain limits there is no reason to assume that it will kill you. The main aim is you gaining control and that can be done with limited magic use. In other words, not enough magic to kill you."

I'm tempted to ask how he can be so certain, but I don't want to retract his offer due to my rudeness, so instead I nod my compliance.

It seems he's done sharing information now. He stands and skirts round the edge of the bed to the door – the larger of two in the room. But before he leaves he turns, as if he's forgotten something, and throws a crystal at me. I catch it reflexively but it bursts on contact with my skin – yet again covering me in residue. The purpose of this crystal is obvious as the aches on my head and side vanish instantly.

"Thank you." I say, slightly surprised.

He inclines his head politely; "I may be cruel at times, but only when it is warranted. You – I'm sure – did not intend to injure yourself."

I shake my head; I most certainly did not.

"I will begin your tuition tomorrow," he continues; "once you have become accustomed to the castle. The passage you came into this room by is behind the tapestry of the mountains, it leads to many rooms in the castle, including my study. You may only enter that room with my permission. It is where we shall have our first lesson tomorrow, climb up three floors and it's the door on the left. That smaller door leads to the bathroom and this one to the main corridors – the library is the fourth door on the right if you wish to use it."

That brightens my mood considerably. At least I'll be able to read. Maybe this won't be an unbearable two months.

"What time should I arrive tomorrow?" I ask, a little more cheerfully.

"You may discuss that with me at breakfast, which is at eight o'clock." Oh great, another early riser. I stare down at my lap morosely, good mood dampened. "Perhaps, then, you can tell me why it was you were crying in your sleep."

My head snaps up at that, but he's already closed the door.

That'll be an interesting conversation.

Is it just me or is Jareth really trying to rile Sarah up at times? But what can we expect? He isn't exactly known for being predictable. ;)

I'd noticed it had been nearly two months since I'd last updated, so this is my little Easter gift. I've been procrastinating a bit, if I'm honest: I've had this chapter planned out for ages but never got round to finishing writing it until today. Hope you guys liked it anyway.

My WIP is still progressing, though a little slowly right now. Various Plot Bunnies have been threatening to derail me but I haven't given in to them.

I'll try and put up the next chapter in less time than this one.

Thanks for reading

PT66 xxx