Sarah hopped off the throne and grabbed the crystal, then asked a goblin to guide her back to the King's chambers.

In the place of one of the windows was a view of the throne room. Howl sat on the clothing chest and Jareth was trying to remain awake in bed. She could see the effort it took as his head kept nodding forward and he blinked slowly. He smiled and held out his good arm to her as she entered.

"That was the High King's nephew, I think the reason he sends him is to keep him away from court. I usually try accommodate him for at least a week."

"Oh, sorry."

"No, I've been wanting to say some of that for years," Jareth smirked. "But I must ask: gold and silver leaves?"

"I was trying for an oak forest, but got several maple trees and climbing roses," she slumped down on the edge of his bed and settled against his shoulder. "I don't know where the metal leaves came from! I covered your floor in green grass, sorry, the chickens are going to make a right mess of it."

"You've a real talent for visualised magic," Howl remarked, impressed. "We'll go over the words and the result so you can learn to refine it."

She nodded.

Jareth kissed the top of her head.

"For your first act as Queen, you've done beautifully. I do like the thrones."

Sarah lifted her head and examined the image, a live feed from the throne room. A bower of twisted rose vines, the roses themselves bright copper, rose above the throne dais. Jareth's throne stood as it always did, and beside it stood a replica, though with a raised step so her feet would not dangle. She blushed furiously.

"Magic is honest," Jareth nuzzled her smugly. "You can stand in this room because you love me, not who I am, and you remade the throne room as your heart desires it to be."

Sarah gave a soft mortified groan.

"I've got so much to learn!"

"Don't worry," he said softly, "it's a beautiful tribute to your love."

.

"I must leave," Howl said. "Is there any way for Sarah to send me home?"

"Yes," Jareth yawned and slumped further down in his bed. "She can call her room from here, that's the most stable of her mirror connections. I trust you can return to Ingary from America?"

"Yes, it's just this place that has a drawing effect on my magic."

Jareth smirked sleepily at him.

Sarah called up her room and Howl slipped through. The moment he stood on the carpet he summoned his magic and was once again clad in his usual garments, though Sarah could see the faint blue overtones that betrayed the glamour.

"I'll tell your father you'll be away a few days practicing your magic. Don't do anything that will make me let Toby at you with that iron poker," he eyed Jareth for a moment. The Goblin King simply sank down in his bed as if asleep, which irked Howl to no end.

With a slight, sardonic bow and a gesture to remind Sarah to close the doorway, Howl left.

.

Sarah sat on the edge of Jareth's bed and stroked his hair out of his eyes.

"Get some sleep. It's not doing you any good to fight it."

"You stayed?" he whispered in surprise.

"Of course I did!"

He smiled slightly.

"Is there anything I can do to aid your recovery?"

The smirk on his face told her all she needed to know about his thoughts.

"Mind out of the gutter, Your Majesty."

He chuckled silently.

"Go to my Solar and bring me back one of your dream globes."

"Will that restore your magic?"

"No, only time will do that. The dream will take the edge off the worst of the side effects."

"What side effect?" Sarah gasped.

He opened one eye.

"Bring me one and I'll show you?"

"Any in particular?" she asked.

"It'll call to you, you'll see."


The goblins lead her to the solar.

"This Kingy's room, no one touch anything!" The goblins again waited at the door.

Sarah shivered as she felt the tingle of what must be the ward at the door, but nothing happened. The room was a few flights down in the Escher room, but what seemed to be the seventh floor of the castle. It was an open room with dark wood shelves filled with books and a long table surrounded with ten chairs padded with deep red velvet.

A thick silk carpet of patterned reds and ochres covered the open floor before the fireplace and on the opposite wall to the door were more shelves. These contained many glittering orbs. They were unlike the clear crystal ones Jareth made, they were brightly coloured and she could feel the sheer power of their magic. She tucked her hands behind her back before the temptation grew too powerful and sure enough Jareth was right, one called to her. It was near the end, and pale white with only a touch of blue for colour. She carefully picked it up and almost dropped it. For an instant she was forcefully transported back to her childhood, playing in the snow, dreaming up an entire fairy kingdom with snow dragons and snow ogres for the brave knights to fight. She bundled her skirt around her hands, shaking as she held the globe away from her skin. There was a moment of dissonance when she realised her memory of the event and the vivid dream in the orb were not quite alike. The dream somehow was more vivid, powerful and captured the bite of loneliness and the warm joy of for a moment resting in a place where she was, if not loved, at least a part of something bigger than herself.

.

She returned to Jareth's side and put the orb beside him.

"I don't know why this one was chosen, it's loneliness."

He cracked an eye open, the normal one, and smiled.

"That is a good harmonic to grief, it'll blunt the edges." He grasped it in his bare hand and Sarah blinked and all was different.

She now stood in a room of dark rich blues, the King now slept in a high four poster with all four drapes mostly drawn about him. The bath was white enamel with gold trim. There were elaborate doors off the side of the room, one open, and she could see an extensive walk in wardrobe. She turned to see the windows now overlooking the fields of several farms with sheep dotted over them.

"Jareth?"

He opened both eyes this time and when he caught sight of the room he grinned broadly.

"I must be feeling a little hen pecked, this is my bachelor's suite."

"As the only female around to do any hen pecking, I will gladly take my leave," she warned.

"Howl and the Goblin Healer can do twice as much complaining as you," he soothed. "You may return home to whatever studies Howl has for you. I'll be dreadfully dull and sleep all day."

"Are you sure?" Sarah didn't trust his dismissal. "Jareth, is this a magical illness? What is actually wrong with you?"

He closed his eyes and turned away.

"Oh no, you're not giving me that!"

She kicked off her sneakers and hiked up her very layered skirts and climbed onto his bed. She settled herself beside his head and stroked his hair, he leaned into her touch.

"Talk to me. I can't help if you don't talk."

"Promise me you wish only the best of intentions," he murmured.

"I promise you, Jareth, King of the Goblins, that I love you and only wish you well, always."

He opened both eyes and gazed at her as if drinking in her features. She then realised what she had just admitted and went bright red. She leaned over and rested her head on his chest.

"I can't believe that I said that out loud," she whispered.

"Thank you," he traced her lips with his finger then breathed out a deep sigh. "I am, among the fae, one who is able to see and capture dreams. What you did back in the kitchen was to translate your grief and anger at your situation into a sort of dreamscape, in order to control and ward it away from your heart. When you released it, you did not do it as one waking up, shifting it to a place at the back of your mind to slowly integrate into your being once more. You threw it out at Howl, myself and you as a stark nightmare. His fire demon protected him, that it was your own magic protected you, and I being both sensitive to dreams and your magic bore the full brunt of it."

Sarah sat bolt upright.

"I dumped it on you like a curse," she breathed in horror. "How do I get it off you?"

"I'll carry it for as long as you did," he said calmly.

"No! That's not fair! Tell me how to get rid of it. That's awful stuff! Please Jareth, please!"

"Sarah!"

She fell silent and briskly scrubbed at a rogue tear.

"What is done is done. There is no recall. You've pulled me through the worst. I should be up and about in a day or so."

She burst into tears and hugged him as hard as she could.

"I'm so sorry!" she sobbed almost insensibly into his shirt.

"Hush precious, hush," he crooned again and again, combing his fingers through her hair. Sarah clung to him and cried. She had never cried like this in all her life, not even when Merlin had died.


She woke, groggy and with the worst stuffy nose and a pounding headache. Her fingers were curled in Jareth's shirt and he lay on his back, idly plaiting thin braids in her hair and tying them off with tiny gems of glittering magic.

"Ugh," she closed her eyes again.

"Precious thing?" he murmured, his chest hummed with his voice and the shivers it sent all over her body brought her to full wakefulness.

"Why me?" she whispered.

"Why not?" he teased as he tied off the braid he was working on.

"Why do you love me? All I ever do is hurt you?" She couldn't even look at him she felt so wretched.

He laughed, his chest vibrating under her head.

"As you cannot see your own charm and beauty, I shall have to remind you of it until you do."

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "You're going to have to teach me crystal magic, and please, teach me the way not to hurt anyone first."

He trailed his fingers down her cheek.

"Of course, precious thing."

She grasped his hand in hers and drew it up to kiss his knuckles as he had so often done to hers.

"Love you," she whispered.

His smile was one of soft, and the usual light mischief in his eyes had darkened to delight.