A/N: And here it is, my lovely readers. A solution...and more. Obligatory lemon warning. This story is M for a reason, folks. If that's not your cup of tea, skip the last part of this chapter. For everyone else, enjoy.

Disclaimer: Labyrinth is not mine.

Chapter 19

After a good twenty minutes of searching, Jareth was forced to begrudgingly admit that his recollection of his father's castle was not nearly as good as he'd thought.

The castle was immense. He knew the uppermost east wing—where his father and Arlyck kept rooms—as well as the entrance hall and several floors above. The central library had been placed between several ostentatious guest rooms and an office framed in cherry wood that he'd frequented before becoming Goblin King. And the staff kitchen was just below. His crazed entrance there was met with shattered glasses and a few scraping bows, the staff predictably shocked at the High Prince's state of undress and wild rage. But those rooms held no answers and scant trace of Sarah, Arlyck, or the Council.

After that, it was a mad dash into random rooms and onto balconies, and up and down deserted hallways and staircases. One-by-one, he ticked them off his mental blueprint of the castle. The guests had obviously departed following the feast; he found no one to question.

Jareth was running out of places to look. And with some rising panic, he wondered briefly if Sarah had been spirited out of the castle. He wouldn't have thought Corvin would risk that exposure, but there were an infinite number of unknowns complicating the situation—starting with the question of just how much Corvin knew about Sarah.

Just after that was the question of whether he had realized the other truth Jareth had been hiding.

Jareth cursed. He didn't think the old text offered any insight into it, but at this point, he wasn't even sure where and from whom Corvin was getting information. He didn't believe Arlyck knew—at least, Arlyck hadn't mentioned as much—but his half-brother was perceptive. And Jareth hadn't exactly been guarded when Arlyck had visited his throne room some nights ago. He might suspect it, especially now.

If Arlyck knew, it was only a matter of time before Corvin knew. He would be sure to use it to his advantage when he did, old magic or no old magic. This knowledge was power.

He had warned her about being used as a key. In his arrogance, he hadn't even considered the reverse. But now, with Sarah missing, and after Corvin's peculiar mannerisms, he saw the possibility. If Corvin demanded something of him...to protect Sarah, there was little he wouldn't do.

He slammed his fist into the wall.

Damn it all.

"Jareth," hissed a dark voice behind him. "I was hoping I'd find you."

Jareth's eyes snapped open as he turned to the speaker. "Where. Is. She?"

Corvin looked momentarily surprised at the question, but schooled his expression quickly. "Where is…who?'

Jareth moved inches from Corvin's face, shattering any pretense of easy discussion. "You know exactly who," he growled. "Where. Is. Sarah?"

With a tilt of his head, a small grin broke across Corvin's face as he realized Jareth played no part in the girl's sudden disappearance from the dungeon. He had wondered, what with Jareth's uncanny ability to interfere in his affairs, but now…now, he need not deviate from what he intended. The girl could not have gone far, not with Jareth still here. He would deal with Jareth, and then he would deal with her.

"We just had a fascinating discussion. Actually," he paused, grinning wider, "she didn't play much of a role in the discussion. It might be more accurate to say I informed her of some fascinating mistakes she'd made." He made a subtle shrugging motion. "Pity it had to end the way it did."

Jareth's heart missed a beat. Sarah was still alive—he felt it through the Oath—but the strange glint in Corvin's eyes did not hint of a lie. He had taken her, spoken with her, done who knows what…he growled again. "She is mine."

"Of that I'm well aware," Corvin answered, scowling. "She didn't seem to have the slightest clue about her match, however. Another pity."

Mismatched eyes narrowed at the familiar term. "Enough games, Corvin. Sarah will not bring war. Your battle is with me, not her."

Corvin snorted. "Seems you don't have the slightest clue, either." He shook his head. "There really is no point in me asking, then."

"Asking what?"

Corvin paused, now thinking it most doubtful that Jareth knew any more about the meaning within the text, but his curiosity won out. Plus, if he laid the trap right, there was the chance Jareth would offer up something he could use against him. Corvin pulled the text out from the crook of his arm, and opened it to the only marked page. "Arlyck seems to think you and Sarah have been working on something else. Something secreted in the final line that will fully repair the Above. So tell me," he drawled, pointing to the final line, "are you hiding the truth to this victory?"

Arlyck…Jareth's fists clenched unconsciously. Corvin didn't appear to know everything, but his question was pointed, too much so for him not to suspect something specific. He tried deflecting. "You have seen that the solution is tied to Sarah ruling and remaining—"

"Yes, so you've both mentioned. Repeatedly. And yet, the Above remains stalled, and at no point did you mention her possessing a weapon of old magic."

An eerie silence settled in the hallway after the echo subsided, spurred on by the competing glares of the two fey. Jareth could think of no prudent response in the moment. Corvin's knowledge of her old magic was one thing he'd most feared.

"So I will ask you again," Corvin said lowly, finally breaking the silence. "Unless you'd rather I do what I should have done already, tell me what you and the girl are planning."

"Wouldn't you like to know?" A feminine voice scoffed, boots clicking in confident rhythm. "Asshole."

Jareth froze at the sound of her voice, shocked both by sight and sound. It suddenly felt as if everything Underground had stalled like the Above.

Sarah.

She had somehow conjured back her earlier outfit, but her look was anything but familiar. Gloved hands clenched at her sides, stride steady and assured. His face traced up to see her eyes rimmed with kohl and ablaze with something wild and unknown. He knew she couldn't cast in these walls but still, she radiated.

She strode up to Corvin. "You want my old magic? Fine. Come and get it. You and me. Outside. This ends now."

It took Corvin a moment to compose himself, but then, he took in her words. She truly thought she stood a chance against him? She barely understood her place in the text. He grinned. "With pleasure, Madam Aries."

Jareth finally came back to his senses. "Sarah—" But she and Corvin had already bounded down the hall.

She must have realized he hadn't immediately followed because she turned her head back before they rounded the corner. "You too, Jareth. I've truly accepted this is how is has to be."

Her look was pointed and Jareth's eyes widened in understanding. She had figured out what she needed to accept.

Oh, Sarah. My beautiful, brilliant, precious thing.

Jareth had never moved so quickly in his life to catch up to her.

The courtyard was empty when Sarah strode into the dawn, Corvin trailing at her heels. She frowned imperceptibly. She trusted that Hoggle would find a way to convince the High King to follow. She just had to give him more time.

Distract and delay. Play off his weaknesses and keep him off-guard until the High King arrives. He couldn't stand it earlier when I called him afraid…

She stopped near the courtyard's center, a rounded fountain set with several statutes of what she assumed were denizens of the kingdom, and leaned back against its edge. As she placed her hands on both hips, she sent him what she hoped was a sufficiently pitying grin. "I'm actually surprised this wasn't what you tried earlier. Were you scared about facing my old magic?"

A muscle near Corvin's eye twitched, but as before, he said nothing. Still, Sarah knew she'd found her sweet spot.

"And you even dragged the other four Council members into it." She tilted her head thoughtfully. "Were they meant to take over when you failed? Or do you just need moral support when you challenge women?"

She thought she heard Jareth snicker, but she forced herself to keep her focus on Corvin. Distracted or not, she didn't trust him not to spontaneously try something. She now understood her old magic, and she had the added rush of Jareth's own, but he still had decades of experience on her. Perhaps centuries. And this was not a simple chess match.

Still, Corvin said nothing. She crossed her arm neatly and tried another angle.

"But I suppose you could have just wanted me to confirm what you'd discovered to your Council cohorts. Did they not believe you?" She snorted. "You did have it pretty wrong." A lie, but he didn't need to know it. And if the reddening in his face was any indication, he was absorbing every word.

Something gold and pale-haired glinted out of the corner of her eye.

She cleared her throat and flexed her fingers in front of her. It was time. "Before we do this, would you like to know what the text actually means?"

"You made it quite clear you had no idea, girl."

Oh I've definitely gotten to him if he'd dropped the 'Madam Aries' business.

She made an exaggerated show of scoffing at him. "Like I would tell you anything when you had me trapped in a dungeon." She made sure the words rang loud and clear. She needed the High King to hear what followed.

Corvin was breathing heavy now, wrought with fury. He took two measured steps towards her. "And just how did you manage to escape?" He bit out.

"A friend," she spoke fiercely. "And with the help of someone else who knew your plan and who understood you were severely mistaken for believing the solution to the Above was to kill me." Again, a lie—she wasn't quite sure of Arlyck's motives—but given he'd aided her, she thought he'd understand later why she'd framed her answer as such.

Corvin's eye twitched again, likely maddened now by the thought that his own confidants had plotted against him. If Jareth's grudge against Hoggle was any indication, loyalty was fundamental for the fey.

Just over Corvin's head, she could see now that the golden figure had descended the marble steps and was watching the scene with rapt attention.

It was now or never.

"Me ruling and remaining is essential, but that's only half the battle. What truly matters is why I choose to stay. Why I want to rule and remain; why I accept it. Not out of duty or guilt." Her eyes found Jareth's and she smiled softly. She needed him to know, no matter what he felt. "But because I've found my match. The one I'll love, forever upon this time or the next, no matter what."

Sarah paused for emphasis, then drilled her focus back on Corvin. "And that, Corvin, is the truth accepted. That is the victory won."

She made the wish.

The effects were immediate and Sarah couldn't stop herself from stumbling hard. But as the dizziness took over completely, she lost track of Corvin. Things were spinning, ground unsteady. Something whizzed past her head and then a white-hot flash, causing her to instinctively flinch, one hand raised to her face as if to ward off the light. Figures were rushing closer…

"ENOUGH," she heard the High King bellow, and the dawn instantly swallowed the light.

Voices rose in an uproar, but the dizziness wasn't ebbing, and the whir was unintelligible and quickly fading. She fell to her knees. Her head was throbbing.

And the last thing Sarah saw before she fainted, the ghost of a smile at her lips, was the petrified face of the Council member.

A flicker of consciousness told her that the room was too warm. The silks wrapped too tightly. She shifted, trying to kick out one leg from her bindings, but only succeeded in wrapping herself tighter.

"Easy, girl," a steady voice commanded.

Dark blue eyes met her own as she woke, and Sarah jolted upright, shaking off the last visages of sleep to gape at the man sitting beside the bed. What had happened? Where was she? A quick check confirmed, thankfully, that she was still dressed in her leathers, but the rest was hazy. "Your Majesty, I.."

"Calm yourself. I merely require a brief word with you." The High King waited for Sarah's slow nod before he continued. "That was quite the performance." Sarah made to speak, but his raised hand cut her off. "Easy. I mean only that I was…surprised by your words. You are not at all what I assumed." He raised an eyebrow, and the resemblance to Jareth was striking. "My son has obviously been hiding more than his own enchantments. He always has been too headstrong for his own good. But, that is in the past now. The Above has been resolved."

A whoosh of air that she hadn't realized she'd been holding escaped. Resolved. It was over. But, her last moments in the courtyard flooded back. "Corvin—"

"Has been relieved of his duties," he cut in forcefully. "As have the rest of the Council. You need not concern yourself with them any longer. Arlyck confirmed your account, and more." His frown was deep, and he hesitated briefly before he sighed. "I find I likely owe you an apology, for being so trusting of them, but my kind are not accustomed to mortals such as yourself and Jareth did not suggest that you were anything more than…" He stopped, then shook his head. "I know not what to make of you, but there is certainly no other human who has both felled and charmed so deeply." And then he stood, leaving Sarah at a momentary loss for words.

"Where is Jareth?" She spoke clearly as the High King finally reached the door. She would have expected—hoped—he would have been waiting for her to wake, not the High King. She swallowed once as an uncomfortable lump settled there.

The High King chuckled softly, turning back to look at her. "Likely stewing in his office. He wasn't pleased that I demanded a word with you first."

Sarah threw back the sheets as soon as he shut the door behind him, and a quick glance around the room confirmed that she was in Jareth's bedchamber. Which meant he must have brought her here. Purposefully. Instead of her own room? Hoggle had said something important about that room, and then, several things clicked all at once. Her recent acceptance made it all clear, and she berated herself for not seeing it sooner.

The oath, the marking on his door...that kiss.

The victory already won.

Sarah jumped from the bed and about tripped over her feet on her way to the hall door.

There weren't any windows on her path to his office, but from the lit sconces, she assumed night was already falling again in the Underground. Meaning, he likely had had the entire day to ruminate over her words.

Jareth's office door was cracked slightly, and even from the hall, she heard the steady click of boots on stone. She quirked a lip at the thought of him pacing all day, but steadied her expression as she leaned into the door.

This time, she had the upper-hand, and she was laying all her cards on the table.

"You know," she started wryly, and he turned instantly, relief evident. "After what your father just said to me, I'm thinking we made this situation much more difficult than it had to be."

That seemed to both startle and amuse him. He raised one eyebrow as he made his way closer, intrigued further by the sight of her tugging sharply at her gloves. "Oh? Do tell."

Sarah nodded, still leaning against the door frame. The gloves were banished to the floor. "Mhmm. Seems as if there was no need to lie about our plans for fixing my world to your father at that Council dinner. Now he knows the truth, and I've received an almost-apology." She grinned, finally pushing off to meet him just inside. "He doesn't know what to make of me, but I'm pretty sure I've gotten his blessing."

He laughed. "Even I don't know what you make of you, precious thing."

Her expression suddenly turned fierce. "Oh I think you know exactly what to make of me. And have for some time," she countered, reaching up to grasp his shirt and pull him closer. Jareth stilled as her face tilted up, lips parted as if she meant to kiss him. But she continued talking, weaving a wisp of fervor into her lines. "You swore an oath to protect me. You tried to show me exactly why you bother. Even your door recognized your intentions, recognized it as truth…" She was close enough now that she saw his pupils start to dilate, heard his breath hitch and turn ragged. She threaded a hand through corn-silk hair. "I just didn't see it."

"Sa-rah—" His throat cracked, her broken name splintering like shards of crystal.

But what no one knew was that the king of the goblins had fallen in love with the girl.

His plea sent a wave a heat down to her belly. It was time to put him out of his misery. "I only had it half-right about the victory won. It was never just about guilt or lust," she whispered into his lips. "Was it?"

"Oh, Sarah," he rasped. "If you only knew—"

But his strained response was enough, and she closed the space, pressing her lips to his with unexpected urgency and drawing his body tight to hers. His lips were soft. Fierce. Hers. She melted her body against his. And he responded immediately, stealing control as one arm came up to tangle in her hair. Grasping as if he'd never let go. His lips parted, testing, and she took the chance to claim the inside of his mouth as her own, fighting to reclaim dominance. Failing. Falling.

Sarah found herself suddenly slammed back against the door frame, and she let out a muffled yelp when her feet lifted inches off the ground. "Mfmph—" But he'd taken over again, claiming and caressing, and she wrapped one leg around him to keep steady. She had thought she had the upper hand but…gods. When compared to him, she barely knew what she was doing. He moved again, tracking fire down the side of her neck until he met the thrum of her pulse. Lower still, tongue tasting as if parched. Suckling at the spot he knew drove her mad.

Her back arched. "Oh, God, Jareth—"

He smiled into her neck, nipping once. "My Sarah." One gloved hand rose to cup her cheek, and he met her eyes, confirming. "You love me?" His voice cracked again, rough with desire.

"Yes," she whispered, almost desperately, eyes never leaving his own. She never meant to fall in love with him, but now, it was all that mattered. He was undoubtedly beautiful, but it was more than that. She loved his playful banter, how he constantly sought to rile her up. How she could match him time after time, only to have him catch her unawares in a whole new game. She loved his strength, how he never let the Council or his father's slight destroy him. She loved how he fought back at every turn; how he fought for her, despite knowing the possible consequences. She loved how his dual-colored eyes filled with mirth or warmth or desire when they met hers, and how his voice shattered what was left of her senses.

She loved that all of it had only ever been for her.

After she said it, something flickered inside those same eyes and then his lips were back on her own. Words were forgotten. Surroundings lost. A hand returned to her hair, the other trailing down her neck, lower still until it graced the swell of her breast. Sarah couldn't stop herself from arching again as his hand firmly grasped it, and leather screeched violently. His ministrations paused momentarily at the sound, and Sarah stole the chance, slipping one hand inside his open shirt to run her nails across his chest. She heard his sharp intake of breath when she found one nipple, and couldn't stop herself from grinning as his hand in her hair clenched. He was breathless, ragged, wanting. All for her. A thrill ran through her at the rush of realization, and any hesitance about her plan faded.

She lightly traced her hand lower, her other moving from its place in his hair to boldly return the favor, when his other hand suddenly shot out to grab her wrist at his waist.

"Sarah," he choked out, a semblance of sense kicking in at where this was headed. "Now is not the time for games. I cannot promise control if you continue." His eyes were fully dilated now and he was shaking slightly, almost pained at the sight of her before him.

She might have given back his power over her, but she knew now she had just as much over him. She knew he wanted her. And by God, she wanted him so much that it ached. Beyond that, her nerves were an afterthought.

"Then lose control," she whispered hotly. "I want you, Jareth. All of you."

Sarah barely had time to process his growl before she lost the feel of solid ground, and she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck as he lifted her. The lit sconces met them in an instant. She knew only one place where he would be headed. "What are you doing? Why don't you just transport us?" She half-laughed, half-rasped as the hallways rippled past in a blur.

He found the door to his chambers quickly, not stopping to put her down before he shoved his shoulder into it. "Because that would require control, Sarah," he whispered hot into her ear. "And as always, your wish is my command. It's lost."

Dear. God. Sarah swallowed deeply, but his movements never slowed. Without warning, her back fell into the bed, and Sarah watched first as Jareth pulled off both of his gloves with his teeth, then caged his arms around her, leaning in again to steal another kiss. A hand returned to her hair, his other chasing down her side and sliding back until it met the tangle of laces. Sarah felt a sharp tug as he found one of knots, but he growled into her mouth when it stuck. Sarah snickered back. "Regretting the dress now?"

He stopped pulling and sat back on his heels, something guttural still caught in his throat. He ran a hand through his hair. "Sarah." He was clearly struggling, and Sarah giggled again and rolled to her stomach to allow him better access.

One-by-one, Sarah heard a snap as he unlaced the rows at her back. She shivered slightly as cool air met her open back once the last knot was undone. But the feeling was fleeting. His hot breath returned to her ear, his success restoring some of his senses. "There is nothing I'd rather dress you in." He dropped kisses down her neck, slowly allowing the dress to sag as he moved lower down her back. "My Sarah. My Queen." And in one swift motion, he flipped her over.

Sarah was long past her wits, and the sound of him moaning her name, calling her his, sent her over the edge. Warmth had pooled at her nether-regions and the ache was steady. His eyes focused only on her and she could see nothing but raw desire. He was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen and knew she ever would see. And he was hers; forever. That familiar something in her stomach flipped again.

She arched her back slightly, guiding one of his hands to the loose fabric. A shimmy as he tugged, and Sarah found herself nearly bare before him. She couldn't stop her blush. But the sight of him, savoring her like a fine work of art, soon calmed her modesty.

"Beautiful," he murmured, bringing his mouth to one rosy peak and cupping the other as if it were fragile china that would shatter if dropped. And then on to the other; suckling, caressing, and leaving Sarah grabbing desperately at the silks behind her. She knew he was spectacular with his mouth, but…gods. He kept moving. Lower still, until he had tracked his mark down to her navel, and Sarah was sure she'd break if he continued. And then, he pushed aside her panties with two fingers and Sarah was certain she did.

"Gods, Jareth," she moaned. "I need you. Now."

She felt him smile into the soft skin of her stomach. "So demanding," he murmured again. But he sat up quickly, pulling his loose shirt over his head. Gray breeches quickly followed and Sarah found her stomach suddenly lodged in her throat at the sight of him as he leaned over her.

He must have heard her breath hitch because he returned his lips to hers, murmuring again. "Do you trust me, Sarah?"

His was such a loaded question, asking so much more of her than that moment. Promises secreted in ancient texts and battles fought over broken words. A battle that was never about defeat, but of mutual conquest. A battle they both had won. She pulled his lips down and that was the only answer needed.

In a swift move, he filled her, and by gods, it hurt. But he paused, letting her adjust to the feel of him. And then, she found herself again, and her tongue fighting against his encouraged him to continue, soon finding a rhythm that sent the thrum of her pulse racing. He let her guide him until they came to the edge, and Sarah couldn't stop herself from screaming as pleasure wracked her body. And she fell, exhausted, back into the sheets, now slick with the reminder of their lovemaking. Sharp teeth nipped once at her lips and she heard him murmur something against them, breath ragged.

And as Sarah lost herself in the silks, struggling to keep her eyes open and limbs tangled with those of her Goblin King like the knots of her dress, she swore she heard him whisper that he loved her.

A/N: There are a couple loose ends to tie up-including one still in the text (any guesses?)-so I'm planning one last chapter. All comments welcome.