A Twisting Heart And Mind

by FangamerBowiextreme

While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally alowed to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

31. As The Pain Sweeps Through

Chapter 25, As The Pain Sweeps Through

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Sarah opened her eyes and sighed. There was an echo in the air, the faint chirrup of birds laughing with one another. She sat upright and a sharp chill shot up her spine with her. It was cold. Her skin pimpled and tensed as fine hair stood on end. She ran a hand up her arm, but immediately recoiled at the damp and dirtied feeling of her palm.

The air was permeated with the smells of pine and magic, dirt, and rot.

She made a gucking sound and grimaced as she peered down. She paused, her eyes narrowing at what she saw. Then her expression became bored. Of course. She was naked.

She licked her lips and peered around. She was in a glade, a serene little place, light breaking through the trees on all sides. There was fog in the air. It clung to her bared skin in a light sheen that only added to her frigid state. She glanced to her shoulder to spy beads of dew forming there. Well that was annoying. Where the hell were her clothes…

She reached over and grabbed a pair of pants sitting off to the side. She stood and they unfolded, revealing underthings and a shirt that had been tucked within that then fell to the ground. She dressed, with little remark, and quietly surveyed the land. She was alone; though the longer she remained that way, the more she perceived the songs of the birds to be suspiciously rehearsed. The pungent scent of the forest struck her yet again.

She brushed the flat of her palms down her thighs, ridding them of any traces of dirt, and the stretchy material moved with her. The familiarity comforted her. Underground leggings were nice, but she missed actual yoga pants. Just another thing she'd taken for granted.

Still barefoot, she stooped to the ground and pulled on a pair of socks and sneakers that may or may not have been there the moment before.

She sighed again, and continued to search the perimeter for invaders.

But there was nothing. Nothing at all.

She left the glade and walked into the forest. The twitter of birds high above began to layer, though she had yet to spot a single one. She walked in silence, stepping over decaying logs and displaced mounds of dirt as the underbrush slowly encroached around her.

The forest thickened. Abruptly, or perhaps not, Sarah found herself surrounded by dense undergrowth. Black thickets and thorns, glistening with morning dew, obstructed her path. They sprawled up the trees and hung from their branches as creeping, parasitic vines. The bright red tips of their talons gave her pause. Being pricked by one would be a trip of a nasty sort, she'd learned.

She turned around and the path was clear. She headed that way, nary a concern as the song of the birds lulled to a hum. She walked farther and farther, even as the ambient light of the day faded, until she stood lost and alone in a boundless night.

She stopped and pressed a hand against a tree. Its bark felt brittle, yet soft -slowly rotting under a plague of lichen. The ground beneath her feet was the same. Soft. Cushioned. Welcoming. And yet, just the mere scrape of her toe would reveal a discord of maggots and spiders, and other such cryptids that writhed beneath. Their noises and ticks layered, emulating the trill of laughter. Something nefarious, she mused, left stifled behind things soft and cushioned and welcoming.

She closed her eyes and exhaled slowly through her nose. The air stilled. The creatures and their sounds retreated. The blackness melded to that of her eyes.

When she opened them, a new light shone. She glanced over, at the faint ball of luminance that diffused between a silhouette of trees, and stepped towards it. Branches and fallen bark cracked and crumbled under foot, yet there was nothing else to impede her.

She approached the source of light until its beams became blinding, and she raised an arm to protect her face as she stepped into it.

Her grimace softened and she looked around as her arm lowered to her side.

She was in the park. Idling under a midday sun, shining softly and pleasantly upon the memory. She took a few steps and then paused again. Something had caught her eye and she glanced down. T'was the skirt of her dress, flowing airily about her knees. It was white. It was thin. It was something she'd worn before.

She failed to suppress the smile that curled the corners of her mouth.

She rose her head high towards the sky and turned in place.

"Going a bit easy on me, aren't you?" she called out, her voice echoing into the trees.

Her head snapped down at the sound of a growl.

There was a dog. A black, mangy, altogether terrifying dog, poised a few feet in front of her. Its shoulders were haunched, its clipped ears pinned back, and it snarled at her again. She locked eyes with it. Pursed her lips in thought. She remembered this thing.

It seemed making eye contact had been a poor decision, as the animal bared its teeth and barked at her viciously. Instinctively, she took a step back. She wavered, and a brief flare of fear gave her heart a hard pound. Refusing its hold over her, she gulped down that moment of faltering confidence and stood straighter, looking the beast straight in the eye.

"Well? Are you going to bite me?" she asked. The dog prowled towards her, cautious but with clear conviction. She felt another tick moving to her jaw, and gritted her teeth to remain stern. Yes, she remembered this.

Suddenly the dog lunged with a deafening series of barks and she felt herself falling back as she braced against it. She felt sharp teeth clamping around the forearm she'd risen to shield herself, and yelped in fright.

But its fur was soft… Its fur was soft and she used that moment of distraction to take back control and fisted a hand tightly at its nape. They rolled as they hit the ground, Sarah's eyes screwing shut, as she brought the dog and all its yips of pain with her.

She fell, tucked her arms into herself and kept rolling, alone, down the face of a hill.

She crashed into a shallow pond, landing on her knees, prostrate, as her hands sank into the muddy bed beneath. The dog was gone. It's howels, and the bite on her arm, never there.

She sneered at the blackened pane of the water's surface and leaned away. Her dress was soaked and stained all the way to her ass.

"Ugh...seriously?" she mumbled, shaking her head and wiping the mud from her hands against the waist of her dress. She tried to stand, but couldn't.

Another instinctive pang of fear shot through her, but again she was quick to dismiss it. She tugged on her legs again, but to no avail. She took a deep breath to compose herself. That's when she started sinking. Quicksand? How original.

She sniffled and, with the back of her hand, wiped away the water and grime that had splashed across her face. She kept her eyes trained on the water's surface, focusing intently as she reached in and clawed through the mud. Her body continued to lower, to sink despairingly deep -until it didn't. Until it instead began to rise, higher and higher, until the face of a boulder emerged from the depths and lifted her to safety. Several others joined, dotting for her a path across the pond. She exhaled carefully before standing to her feet. Phew. She was almost nervous just now.

She reached down and wrung the water from the skirt of her dress, then proceeded to hop from stone to stone until she reached the safety of the grass once more.

She paced away, her eyes scanning the clouds suspiciously as they darkened. And, before she could even finish the thought, it started to rain.

A loud boom of thunder had her startling back, soon joined by a quick and blinding flash of lightning. She smoothed the hair away from her face and stared up as best she could. The world had turned grey. The veil of rain had become so heavy she was not sure there were still surroundings left to be seen at all.

She was soaked, her dress clung heavily to her, and she realized she no longer wore undergarments. She started laughing to herself. Of course.

Turning around, she saw the pond whence she came. Only, it was not the same. It was large and rimmed with pebbles. Her foot shifted in place and the sound of gravel accompanied it. A waterfall cascaded loudly in front of her, glowing with an ethereal light she had anything but forgotten.

She traveled around the edge of the pond, to the cabin that just now revealed to her its light.

She entered the cabin and sagged against the door as it closed behind her. The torrent of the rain became muffled, but nonetheless foreboding, as it pelted against the old wooden planks. She released the knob and stepped forward. A fire was lit. She scanned the room but found it empty, suffering a strange stillness that provoked her to delve further within.

She went to the kitchen, leaned over the sink as she wrung out her hair, and stared out the window at the utter blackness that laid beyond it. She should have been cold, but she wasn't. She had no reason to be.

As she stared out the window, the reflection of the hearth in the other room caught her eye. It flickered, faintly, reflecting off itself to create what she mused to be two little eyes. They watched her, unblinking, from deep within the forest. She found her hands trailing listlessly down her hair, her gaze lost to the beguile of those two little specks-

She coughed and yelped when she was suddenly shoved aggressively against the window.

Sarah's teeth gritted and she pushed back with her hands against the rim of the sink, but something strong and unyielding held her in place. A hand was clawed around the back of her head, the tips of fingers pressing into her scalp as they held the side of her face pushed flush against the cool glass of the window.

The feel of the rain bearing down on the other side vibrated against her cheek, and a cooling sensation flushed over her.

Angered, she growled and thrust herself forward. She stumbled out of his hold, through the wall itself, and into a new environment entirely. She straightened as she caught her balance, and looked all around.

The rain was gone. The room was silent. Her room, she remembered. In the house of her parents in the Aboveground. She continued to look around, hesitant to touch anything, as her uncanny location steadily unnerved her.

She left her room and entered the hall. It was dark, night, but there were lights on at key intervals. She went down the stairs and stood in the foyer. It felt like it'd been so long since she'd seen this place. She paced slowly, finally allowing her hand to trail along the textured wallpaper she'd completely forgotten about. She heard the boom of thunder, then. Distant. Lulled.

She gasped again as her entire body was thrust forward against the wall.

She hit it hard, the bones of her hips cutting into the drywall as her hands did what they could to brace against the impact. She felt a presence at her back, something solid, and dark, and a forearm that dug into the back of her neck as it held her down. She pushed against it but only huffed in frustration, then winced when a sleek hand covered hers and a hot breath breezed against her ear…

"Pay attention," -it said. And then it was gone.

Sarah staggered back and pulled away the hair that had caught in her mouth. She was glaring, but at nothing it seemed, as she peered around and found herself alone. She brought a hand to the back of her neck and rubbed. Damn. That almost kind of hurt...

Ignoring the temptation of nostalgia, she bade farewell to her childhood home and headed straight for the front door.

She exited the house to find herself standing at the edge of the Labyrinth, under a tree that held more significance to her than it should have. It looked the same, save for the dark clouds that loomed overhead. She scowled at it. It seemed she hadn't escaped the storm afterall.

A breeze swept up the dampened skirt of her dress and with it came a chill -a sharp scent of pine and magic, dirt, and rot. Damn it. He was right. She wasn't paying attention.

She shook her head and walked forward, down the trail that led to the Labyrinth's gate.

She wandered for what felt like a long time, searching for shelter from the imminent storm. She found the mouth of a tunnel and entered just as the first droplets hit.

The path brought her low, deep into a cavern, rendering the onslaught of the rain little more than a patter. The light of the tunnel was dim and made grey from the veil of the storm outside. She heard the splash of a puddle and stopped, peered down, and realized the tunnel was starting to flood. She looked around for an escape but hesitated. This place...was too familiar.

She saw a new source of light from an adjoining corridor up ahead and went towards it. But, before she could reach it, found herself abruptly halted in her tracks.

The gust of air that hit her was permeated with the smell of pine and magic, dirt, and rot.

She looked at Jareth, then over herself. She was wearing her old outfit. The one she'd first met him in. And he too was playing his part -hands held at the hips as the wide lapels of a brown leather coat fanned his shoulders. The water was rising at their feet, drenching her shoes, as it quickly rose past the ankle.

She imagined the memory was meant to unnerve her, and took a step back against the wall.

"Is this what you call upping the stakes?" she asked, glancing at the water level as it rose ever-higher. Jareth's grin curled on one side and he stepped towards her, closely.

"You seemed distracted," he said, and leaned towards her as an arm pressed against the wall above her head. He was smiling at her, something sinister that had her eyes darting away. "Perhaps you're enjoying yourself a bit too much?"

Sarah cracked a grin and glanced back at him. He still had a hand on his hip, his posture making him seem taller as he loomed over her. She crossed her arms in defense of it, though tilted her head and regarded him coyly.

"Not enough, I'd say," she replied, and reached up to pluck at the breast of her shirt. "The outfits are a nice touch though."

"Sadly, my dear, I cannot claim credit for that little detail," he said, his smile curling devilishly as he spoke. The water was still rising, now nearing her knees. They both ignored it. "I thought we agreed to abstain from your fantasies for one night?" He spoke teasingly, but there was a tension laced with those words, a detachment that darkened his eyes as he languidly drank her in.

"My fantasy?" Sarah repeated, raising a brow at him in a very knowing manner. The fist he held above her head tightened subtly. He took another step towards her, the only one he could, until she could feel the leather of his jacket brushing against her breast.

His head dipped towards hers, his fisted glove scraping loudly against the stone wall as his arm lowered, though he stopped, and paused with his lips just a hair's breadth from hers. Her mouth was open. Her tongue was tracing her lip. He smiled.

"Yes. Your fantasy." His voice was a salacious purr which seemed to rumble throughout the tunnel around them. The sound of falling water grew louder, the flash of lightning bouncing off the walls behind them never more apparent, and yet the feeling of water rising towards her hips meant nothing. It was all nothing.

She uncrossed her arms and reached up to run a delicate finger along the collar of her shirt, widening it suggestively, before halting at her cleavage.

"Then step away."

There was challenge in her gaze, scrutinizing, audacious. It sparked with the flashes of lightning moving around them. Jareth ran the tip of his tongue along the back of his teeth. If only she had looked at him thus back then.

"Those buttons are in my way," he said, with a sharpness that passed, unblinking, between their stares. She bit her lip and unfastened the first, slowly trailed down to the second, and then the third…

When she was finished, she ran her hands back up her torso, pushing apart the halves of her shirt just enough to reveal the white, lace trim of her bra. Jareth's eyes lowered shamelessly. Then he reached out and grasped her by the shoulder.

She felt a hitch in her breath that synced with a boom of thunder and realized the water had risen to her navel.

Jareth's hand gripped her firmly then moved down, pulling her sleeve and her vest along with it. His eyes remained fixed, focused on the skin that revealed itself; her pale, damp, tantalizing skin.

She shrugged out of the sleeve and let the other fall from her into the water.

He took a step around her, which caused her to angle herself flat against the wall. His arm caged her, now pressed at eye-level beside her head. He was wearing a cape, which floated and billowed out atop the water. She sucked in her stomach as awareness hit her, and the thunder crashed louder still.

"Take that off," he told her, his eyes rising to hers only briefly, glazed with a dangerous kind of longing that had a delicious knot twisting deep in her abdomen. She pressed her thighs together and reached behind herself, wordlessly, as she unhooked her bra. Her eyes were trained on his face, eager to witness his hunger for her; but his head only tilted, his lowered gaze fixated and expectant on her chest.

She brought in her elbows as she maneuvered out of her bra, pushing together her breasts that now felt heavy with nipples already peaked. Jareth made a noise in the back of his throat, something guttural and appreciative. He lowered his head and kissed her there, sucking in the flesh of her breast as his tongue curled around the hardened bud of a nipple. She gasped and inched a little up the wall. His hands rose to cup them, to knead them, and pinch them as his mouth moved tenderly between the two.

Her hand rose to the back of his head and held him, savouring his movements as her legs spread. She was starting to feel weightless, and she felt the water hit her ribs.

She glanced down, a distracted half-smile on her face.

"We're going to drown," she said, with little-to-no alarm. Jareth sucked on one of her nipples and pulled it back. She moaned and he bit down just barely.

"Are we?" he replied. He sounded unfazed, uninterrupted as his hands pushed up her breasts to meet each of his kisses. Sarah turned her head to the side and gulped.

"Jareth-" she said, breathily, and suddenly clawed a hand into his hair and jerked him up. The ends of his hair were wet, darkened, along with his eyes that stared through her as he kissed her on a hot, laboured breath. Their teeth met and their tongues curled, and they breathed into one another. It felt cold all of the sudden. Cold and wet. The water was to their shoulders. She could feel herself being lifted from the floor -but that was only because Jareth had taken her by the ass and done so.

"You're losing focus," he said, sounding just as breathless and distracted as she. His eyes were partially closed, his mouth searingly hot against the artery in her neck which pulsated wildly for him. "I suggest you do something before we really do drown."

Sarah took a deep breath and looked to the ceiling. It was dark. Black. She tried to focus but Jareth was intentionally making it difficult. His gloved hands were toying with her nipples and he sucked hard on the flesh of her neck. The water was nearing their throats. Was rising much too steadily. She closed her eyes and focused. Focused on the fact that drowning did not matter. The water rose above their heads and for the briefest of moments she held her breath. The sound of the rain, of the thunder, and the smell of pine and magic, dirt, and rot faded. It all faded. Everything but the feeling of Jareth holding her to him.

When she opened her eyes, they were weightless. She peered around and the sight of her hair, of Jareth's hair, drifted slowly in space around them. It was dark. Near black. And yet somehow she could see them both clearly. Jareth pulled away from her and held her by the hips as their eyes locked.

His hair moved about the frame of his face with gentle grace, and she thought, with a terrible pang deep in her chest, that she'd never seen something so close to angelic.

A billow of white caught her eye and she realized she was wearing a dress once more.

"Are we underwater?" she asked. The atmosphere felt strange. Thick. Like wading through water. She breathed deeply, as if surprised she could do so, and let her arms move in elegant flutters around her. Jareth held onto her as her movements caused them to turn, his clothing -now as black and glittering as the space around them- melded into a cape that now slowly encompassed them both.

"You tell me," he said, and turned them again. They became tangled in his cape, her body pressing flush against his. She brought her hands to his neck, to hold onto him as she steadied herself. It felt as if she might drift away from the slightest push.

She looked down and saw a fractured glimmer far removed in the direction of their feet.

"That's the surface…" she said, to herself. Jareth regarded her with a cool stare, warring with himself whether or not to toss her into it.

But she looked so perfect. So ethereal. A true goddess, unbound to the ways of any world. Perhaps he would cherish her for just a moment longer. As if sensing his thoughts, she peered to him slowly.

"Jareth…" she started, and he watched her brow furrow. "Don't you dare throw me in there."

He grinned and she shot her look back at him. Just as his hands tightened on her hips, did hers fist in the collar of his jacket. She pulled, roughly, until they keeled and rolled, and landed on something soft.

The fractures were clouds breaking the night sky. And the glimmer was the moon.

Sarah laid overtop Jareth as he reclined in the grass coating a gentle hillside. A low breeze caught the ends of their hair, no longer wet and heavy, and rustled the field and the trees around them. The light of the moon shone brightly on his face, paling him and rendering him something truly of another world. His hair looked silver, his body revealed only by the suggestion of highlight from the jewels that glittered down his torso.

She wasn't sure what she'd planned on doing next, but as their gazes remained locked, another deep pang hammered in her chest, and she could not stop herself from pulling him to her as she kissed him avidly.

Jareth's hands wound into her hair and he drew up a knee as she ground herself against his thigh. Her knees pressed into the dirt and she panted sweetly as she bit at his lips. Her kisses were starved, relentless, demanding in a way that he almost gave in to. She was trying to manipulate him, have her selfish way, when he really was trying to test her.

He smiled, bringing his hands to hold the sides of her face as he gave her one last, achingly-drawn-out kiss.

"You're getting off track," he said, amusedly, though he breathed just as heavily as her. Sarah moistened her lips and ran her fingers through his hair.

"Does it matter?"

In lieu of a response, Jareth rolled her onto her back and pressed her hard into the ground. She gasped and moved herself against him. She could feel his erection hardening against her thigh and fought desperately to feel it thrusting against her sex instead.

One of Jareth's hands went to her throat, to grip the pale, vulnerable column like a vice. He squeezed, forcing her to arch back to catch a breath. And his other hand fisted in her hair, holding her in that position as he finally lowered his hips and pressed the length of his cock against her.

Sarah's returning moan was flighty, though not without a trace hint of apprehension.

"You're supposed to be focusing, Sarah," Jareth whispered, a dangerous tenor that sent a shiver down her spine. She swallowed hard but the pressure on her throat only intensified. Her hands pulled at his hair, distracting him just well enough to angle her head down. He growled from the surprise of it, the glare he'd meant to give her cut short by her kiss.

She pushed against his hold on her neck, not caring, nor needing, to breathe. He kissed her hungrily, used all his might to push her back into the dirt and failed beautifully. He bit her lip hard and she drew back, wincing, as he tasted the tang of blood on the tip of his tongue. Ignoring it, Sarah's hands left his hair and traveled down, feeling along the ruffles and buttons of his coat before getting to the buckle on his belt. She jerked it loose and deftly freed him of the buttons on the high waist of his trousers. Her hands reached beneath the fabric demandingly.

His cock felt hot in her hands, both hard and soft as she appreciated the velvety feel of his skin. She jerked him and he pulsed, growing in length, and she hummed in approval as he continued to kiss her. She pumped him again, constricting her hand around him in a tight little fist, and elicited a glorious moan from him. He broke their kiss and ground his hips into her, his hold on her neck weakening with distraction. She reveled in the jolt of pleasure that shot through her groin as the head of his dick pressed against her clit, and she pumped him a little faster.

"Sarah…" Jareth said, roughly, in warning, and pulled away from her to regain composure. She was getting distracted again. They both were. The clouds creeped ever slowly.

"You like that?" she asked, airily, and wanton, and sounding unbelievably intoxicating. Her lips curled in a smile and she angled her head back to nip at his chin. "You like when I jerk you off?"

Jareth closed his eyes as a spurt of precum dampened the confine of his pants. Fuck. Her thumb pressed against the sensitive spot beneath the head and he shuddered. She was so bold. It was like she didn't even care what they'd come here to do. Her tone had risen an octave as she'd said that, as she'd smiled and stared at him with heavy-lidded eyes.

"I worry you're not taking this seriously, love," he said, forcing a bit of cheer into the words. Sarah found new confidence in the waver she sensed in his voice and continued unshaken.

"Seems to me, I'm taking things more seriously than you can handle, Goblin King," she taunted, taking his lip between her teeth and returned his gesture by biting until the skin broke. Jareth growled and ran his tongue along the wound, then along her own as he kissed her once more.

She didn't notice his hand refasten around her neck, nor the way he angled his thumb under her chin. She did however, gasp in pain when that thumb pressed, unforgivingly, up into the submental space of her chin. Her head thrust back sharply and she cried out. The jolt of pain caught her by surprise, though only made her angry as it confirmed his accusation. She scowled and forced it away. He was being an ass again.

Her hand, still tight around his cock, pulled on him roughly, hoping it hurt more than pleased, and watched him with satisfaction as he grimaced and flinched away from her.

"It's going to rain Jareth. Are you sure you don't want to come first?"

He moaned and constricted her neck harder. His free hand had released her hair and now fisted in the grass as he contended against this dirty, vile, little vixen. The clouds of the coming storm were blackening out the night sky, and a new heady rumble coursed through the air. She could feel his resolve slipping. Feel his resentment over the fact, and the urge to attack her that he just barely restrained. She moved her hands over him in ways she'd learned pleased him, in ways she knew would bind him to her. He moaned. Finally. His eyes screwed shut as his grip under her jaw fell lax. She felt him throb again. He was going to come.

She smiled wickedly as a jolt of static shot from her hand straight unto him.

Jareth recoiled from her with a hoarse clamor and glared at her with a dangerous look of both surprise and anger. She laughed at him. Laughed at him. Then took him by the shoulders and rolled.

"Don't lecture me on becoming distracted," she whispered in his ear, before letting him go to fall, supposedly endlessly, into oblivion.

Sarah leaned up and smoothed out the skirt of her dress. She was alone, with nothing but the moon and the pounding of her heart for company. This was just too much fun. It was dangerous how much fun it was. She bit her lips to suppress a naughty smile as she drew her knees up to her chest and hugged them. Jareth would be back at any moment, but it did not scare her. He was having just as much fun as she was. Still, she sighed, hoping he wouldn't be too fervid in his revenge. She wanted to enjoy the view a little while longer.

She took a deep breath and turned her gaze to the sky.

The clouds dispersed. All of them. And in their wake, the stars, and the planets, and the moon itself moved closer just for her. She gazed up at it, at the humbling, unequivocal beauty of it, and sighed. It was quiet. Deathly quiet. Though she knew he was now sitting beside her.

Jareth regarded her carefully, etching to memory the faint curl of her lips and the wilting expression of awe that kept her eyes away from him as his frustrations simmered. Her hands squeezed her arms and she leaned towards him, brushing her shoulder against his before peering over at him with the same pleasant smile.

"I'm not sorry," she said, teasingly. Jareth cracked a grin, feeling any call for retribution die in the wake of that smile. He huffed, his eyes falling over her absently.

"You're quite cruel when you're sleeping," he said. Sarah's grin widened and she looked away.

"You are my teacher." She fiddled with her hands as she gazed at the moon. It hung large, unnaturally so, and just barely out of arm's reach. She shone beautifully under it. Paled and yet still vibrant, still so very much alive and formidable behind a marbled sheen.

"Fair enough," he replied and reclined his hands behind his head as he laid back against the grass. "That is...quite a beautiful rendering," he added, in a more subdued tone. Sarah tore her eyes away from the sky and looked down to him.

"It is, isn't it?"

"You're getting better." There was pride in those words, however subtle. Sarah quirked a brow and glanced away.

"You haven't made it particularly challenging," she said, feeling a little arrogant. She felt so much freer here. So unencumbered and….strong. Maybe that was because it was the only way she and Jareth could play on equal footing. The things she could do to him here...the power she held over him...The things he had taught her to do...

"I don't want to scare you," he said, shifting his posture and gazing up into the stars. "I can only push so far...and you're nowhere near ready to travel a nightmare." Sarah peered down to him discreetly. He shrugged, a vacant look of displeasure creasing his face. "And...in all honesty, I'm not sure I want to give you a nightmare. At all." His tone was mellow but she knew the weight of those words. Dreams had become something formidable since she returned to the Underground, and the nightmares had been devastating. It would be beneficial for her to be able to control one, though she empathized with his apprehension.

"I know," she said, turning her thoughts away from such things. It was dangerous given their current circumstances. "That dog though...that was interesting. How did you know I was afraid of that thing?" she asked, deflecting. Jareth's eyes traveled the sky, moving from one too-bright star to the next. She wondered if he knew she was watching him, appraising him and all his fine-figure with something less than subtlety.

"It was one of your more poignant childhood memories. It wasn't difficult to gleam." And then she glanced away. That dog was a source of trauma from her childhood, a neighborhood mongrel that had tried to attack her on more than one occasion. It should have bothered her that he could divulge such personal moments, with vivid clarity, from her mind without her consent, but it didn't. It only made her more intrigued.

"Will I learn to gleam memories like that one day?" There was hope in her voice, eagerness, and a slippery-slope that Jareth could not stop himself from grinning at.

"Probably not. You need to be the invader to perform such feats."

Sarah pursed her lips, feeling a new and peculiar resentment of her humanity.

"Ah...a glimpse into one of your dreams. Now that would be something," she said, trying to imagine the holy hell of a trip that would be.

"I could perhaps...contrive a way, if you're really interested. Although...I don't think that would be advisable under the best conditions," Jareth said, and she looked down at him with a curious eye.

"Why?"

"Being an intruder, my behavior here is limited. As you're learning, it is the dreamer who holds all of the power -when you're able to control it, at least," he explained. Sarah's pursed lips curled into a faint smirk and her eyes narrowed.

"Is that your polite way of threatening me, Goblin King?" she asked. Jareth smiled, broadly, a look she appreciated to the fullest as the light of the moon illuminated him.

"Yes," he said, and brought his eyes to hers. "As I'm sure you've gathered, one's inhibitions are severely diminished in a dream. I fear, to have you at the mercy of my subconscious, I might actually eat you." He gave her a playful wince as he said that, as he leaned up slowly towards her. She noted a shift in him then, a sly shade that sharpened the reflection of the moon in his eyes. He wasn't as playful as he seemed.

"I see...that would be bad," she said, warily. He was leaning towards her with his weight on one hand as the other casually snaked over her.

"Yes. It would be," he replied, impassively, and encroached further. She was forced to lean back, to recline against the ground as he hovered over her. He lowered to rest on his forearms, placed on either side of her, and his playful, precarious smile glinted in shadow -his angled incisors reminiscent of fangs. "At least here...precisely how I eat you is solely on your terms."

Sarah's eyes widened and she gulped. It was fun messing with him, but when he was serious he really knew what the fuck he was doing. His hair was near-white, his face darkened to the color of steel, where an actual glimmer danced in his eyes. Everything about him seemed to physically acuate, until he looked very much a predator and she the prey. She found her hands yielding and submissive, turned palm-up on either side of her head. There was something unnatural about him, something dastardly that perhaps her subconscious had rendered. Regardless, the visage suited him. It suited him far too well.

Jareth's grin stretched on one side and he lowered his head to plant a kiss at the well of her throat.

He could feel her heart quickening, thumping loudly as she took in a deep breath. He moved lower. Planted a kiss over her sternum. Her breast. The material of his jacket crinkled as he moved, wordlessly, while his shoulders hunched and contorted as he slowly kissed his way down the center of her abdomen.

Her legs spread for him and his hands, now bare, held them wide at the base of each thigh. Her body bowed to each of his kisses, each delicate, pointed peck that was anything but chaste. She was starting to squirm beneath him, feeling far too aroused from such meager affections. She watched as he leaned away from her, kneeling between her bent knees as he took one of her legs and extended it. He kissed the inside of her thigh, held his lips against her skin, and then dragged his teeth in sharp promise further up it.

Sarah breathed through an open mouth as she watched him, watched him work so carefully up the length of her thigh. He started to bend forward as his tender nips approached her groin, and his hands pushed the skirt of her dress up to her waist.

She'd forgotten he'd taken away her underwear. He hadn't.

Jareth lowered himself to the ground and peered at her discreetly. She was watching him, her body tense with anticipation. He smiled as he kissed the junction of her thigh and breathed a hot breath across her cunt, which he knew constricted and trembled with yearning.

He waited another moment, enjoying her impatience, and then kissed the junction of her other thigh. He heard her inhale sharply, saw her chest rise from the ground. He kissed the flesh concealing her clit and she whimpered, the sound high and cut short. He could smell her growing arousal, could see it in the sliver of her eyes. He averted his gaze from the danger poised in such a tempting expression.

He opened his mouth and ran a careful tongue along her cleft.

Sarah's body jerked but she stifled her moan to yet another begrudging whimper. Her head was cast back, her eyes screwed shut as she waited. Another hot breath flushed against her and her muscles flexed. His hands were gripping the underside of her thighs, and she felt them tighten on her as well.

He extended his tongue and licked her again, oh-so-slowly, from bottom to top. Her body opened for him, wet and greedy, but he refused her. Instead he kissed her, boldly, over flesh that wanted to be penetrated so anxiously. He sucked on her clit and her hips moved with him.

"Ah...Jareth…" she moaned, finally. The sound of his name on her lips in such a submissive, pleading tone aroused him -as it always did- and he sucked on her a little harder. She moaned again, louder, and drew up her knees to cage him. His hands tightened and pushed her legs apart. Her hips rocked up against his face as an acute pang had her channel quivering with the need to be filled.

"Do you want me inside you?" he asked, and she moaned.

"Yes. Please…"

Oh, what a sound. What a sight. Her back bowed again and her hands reached up to massage her breasts. Her toes were curling in the grass and she breathed heavily. In reward for such a beautiful display, he ran his tongue along her opening again, pressing in a little harder as the flesh split eagerly. He tasted her, something robust and saccharine -like honey. He lost control for a moment and allowed his tongue to penetrate her. He delved inside, and hummed as she moaned, as he sucked at her sweetness. He murmured into her and her hips bucked, fighting against his hold that now clamped and pinned her to the ground. He lapped at her cunt, savouring the feel and the taste of her body with eyes closed. He felt her muscles spasming around him, her body trying its best to pull his tongue deeper. He felt his dick throb and he ground himself against the hard earth.

When he pulled away from her, she was panting. She was breathless and hot, and took in one uneven breath after another. The wetness left in his wake brought a chill to her as he breathed against the sensitive skin, and she shook her head to regain focus. Watching her carefully, Jareth unfurled his tongue again and probed her with painstaking subtlety. Her body braced, and then jolted when a static-shock shot through her cunt.

She gasped and leaned up on her elbows, glaring down at him with alarm.

"What the hell?" she asked, winded and bemused. Jareth tilted his head from between her thighs and regarded her shrewdly.

"You didn't think I'd forgotten your indescretion, did you?"

Sarah blinked. Her expression flushed and deeply disconcerted. With their eyes locked, he lowered his mouth on her and opened it wide as his tongue bore deep. She felt another tremble, a sharp, tantalizing sensation, emanating from the tip of his tongue.

He withdrew and smiled at her look of worry.

"Don't worry pet, I shan't be so cruel to you and cause you pain," he said, slowly lowering his eyes as he kissed her again. "...Though you certainly deserve it…" The vibration amplified, coursed through her abdomen, and had her moaning on reflex. Her mouth dropped open and her hands fisted as she watched. He looked engrossed, enthralled even, by the mere taste of her. She felt her mouth watering as his tongue twirled, jutting in and out, and the surprising jolt came again.

"I thought...you wanted me...to avoid...feeling things," she said, panting between breaths. Her head was slowly casting back, her body inching upward as Jareth's mouth pressed into her harder and harder. The vibration from his tongue increased with each movement and she felt herself growing hot with arousal.

When he'd first started teaching her the art of lucid-dreaming, Sarah was surprised to learn that she could in fact feel things, that sensation was as much the whim of the dreamer as it was the invader. All those times when he'd violated her and she'd woken to a memory and nothing else… He'd said he was toying with her back then. That he'd wanted any true sensation she felt to be in flesh. He went on to assure her, quickly, that he could in fact allow her to feel a great deal. And that it would be very, very real.

Her prerogative was to abstain from physical sensations. Between his tongue, and the static, and the tickle of the grass, the chill of the air, and the heat blooming between her legs, she knew she was failing miserably.

Jareth wielded the power of the storm on the tip of his tongue, and it was all she could do to dispel the clouds now looming overhead.

"That was then," he said, roughly, as he released one of her thighs and thrust two of his fingers within her. Sarah shrieked and squirmed against him. He was becoming aggressive, fucking her with his fingers as he sucked on her clit. His hand moved in and out, long and deep, and the quaking, electric sensation built within her again. Now it was stronger, unbearable, and she fought for the freedom of her legs as they tried to brace against him. She was moaning loudly, fervidly, and her hands reached down to pull at his hair. She bucked her hips onto his hand, wanting so much more and yet unable to handle what he was already giving her. She felt her insides vibrating, her stomach turning in knots, something deep within teetering on the edge of explosion.

Jareth added a third finger and the wet, smacking sound of his efforts grew louder as her fluids coated his hand and dripped down to his wrist. He pulled his mouth away and looked up as the orgasm hit her, as it wracked through her body in violent undulations she tried so desperately to tame. He pushed his hand as far as it would go, stretched her, and curled his fingers against something that sent her immediately over the edge a second time. She screamed. Screamed beautifully. With hunger, Jareth withdrew his hand and grabbed her by the ass, pushing her up to his mouth as he tasted the glorious fluids that poured out of her. She was still moaning, still suffering aftershocks, but he showed her no mercy. His tongue delved within her swollen flesh, flicked over her over-sensitized nub, and he groaned, he groaned like an animal as he took from her, and then tore himself away sharply.

He crawled over her and stared into her eyes. She was breathless, gaping, and very much turned on by the glistening sheen that smeared across his face.

"What do you smell?" he asked. Sarah took a deep breath and blinked, forgetting this was still a test. She opened her mouth to speak, but her mind was in shambles and her hands fisted in her hair with pent up frustration. How the hell was she supposed to focus right now?

"Uh...Um...Nothing. I smell nothing," she said, failing to notice the clouds slowly retreat from the sky. Jareth continued to stare at her, his expression stoned with his own growing need to ravage her.

Pine and magic, dirt, and rot. Smell was a sensation that could never be natural to a dream. Jareth had told her to use such things as a cornerstone, to help orient herself whenever she became lost or distracted. The smell of the forest, it was the first thing she'd sensed. The first realization that she was dreaming. And so she'd clung to it, used it as a reminder whenever she was getting off track. She did not smell it now. Despite Jareth's efforts, despite the warring of the storm, she was still focused. She was still in control. She was getting better.

"Good," he said, in approval it seemed. His posture swayed above her as his eyes scanned her greedily. His hips were between her thighs, and she could feel his erection as it pressed against her. She rocked herself against it and he groaned. Hm, it seemed neither of them were holding back sensation.

"Can you do that in the real world?" she asked. Jareth's grin cocked on one side and he gazed at her dangerously.

"I could...though elemental magic is much safer here." She was grinding herself against him, bringing him to distraction, which was a strain made plainly evident in his voice. He bore his weight on his hands on either side of her, and gave in to reciprocate her movements, tauntingly for them both.

"Why?" she asked, as if she were solely focused on the conversation. Jareth's eyes closed briefly as he felt his cock throb. When they opened, they were darker. Hooded.

"Because nothing is real. The body...is not real." His voice wavered as a hand rose to lightly trace the hem of her neckline. But soon, even that modest effort of restraint gave way as his fingers splayed and groped at her breast. "For instance…" he continued, forcing his tone to remain level as fierce pruriency weighed his words. He brought a pointed index finger to hover over the bodice of her dress, and her eyes darted to it. The light of a flame sparked at his finger tip, soft and mesmerizing. Her eyes widened as he pressed it firmly into the material covering her bosom.

He trailed it down her slowly, agonizingly, as they both watched the fabric burn and flutter away from her. He saw the swell of her breasts reveal themselves, the rosy peaks of her nipples hardening as the night air found them. He wanted to kiss them, to suck them and bite, and hear her scream once more. They swelled, perking on her chest. It would be so easy...

But he didn't. Instead he leaned away from her and withdrew his hand.

"I could burn the fabric from that sumptuous body of yours at any time...but whether or not you would be burned in the process is another matter. Here it is easy. You simply do what you imagine doing." And the tip of his finger lowered to the valley between her breasts once more. He dragged it lower, backing off of her and sitting on his knees as he trailed his hand ever down. She sucked in her stomach, but only watched in silence as the glow of embers and soot silently danced up into the air. The fire creeped, curled around her body, and left her totally exposed and vulnerable against the ever-commanding scrutiny of Jareth, The Goblin King. There was no pain. No heat. No feeling at all. Other than the insatiable hunger that coursed between them.

"And these are things I can do, too…" she said, not quite asking. Jareth grinned. There was a passion in her eyes that had nothing to do with him. She had taken to his training more readily than he'd anticipated and, more often than not, took advantage of the pseudo-power such a place gave her. He knew she felt powerful. He knew she felt equal to him. It was a relief, if nothing else. Invigorating foreplay for the disaster he was surely preparing her for.

He leaned over her again and pinched her nipples before sucking on each one in turn. When he withdrew, there was a new challenge in his gaze.

"My dear...there are many things you can do."

He reclined to his knees, and she watched eagerly as he unbuttoned and shrugged out of his jacket. He untied the scarf at his throat and pulled the hem of his shirt from his pants before casting both over his head and off to the grass behind him. Sarah swallowed. The moon was large and hung directly behind him, limning him in silver light that gave him an ethereal glow. He was too perfect. Her goddamned dreams made him too perfect.

"Touch yourself," he ordered, and she blinked out of her gander. He was staring down at her, his eyes hard and expectant. His chest was broad and his hips narrow, and her eyes traveled down to his hands that were now loosening the buckle on his belt.

Unblinking, Sarah ran her hands along her body, rising to her breasts and groping them as he watched her. She panted faintly, rolled her nipples and drew them out as her body moved against nothing but air. Her thighs squeezed against his knees, her pelvis impatient to feel the pressure of his pushing down on her once more.

"Lower," he said, and she obeyed. Her hands moved down her waist, over her stomach, and gripped her thighs provocatively before two fingers moved to rub gentle circles over her delicate bundle of nerves. She watched him as he pulled the belt from his pants in one swift movement and popped open the fly. He freed himself and his cock, large and throbbing, fell heavily into his hand. He began to pump himself, jerking firmly from base to head as he watched her pleasure herself.

Sarah moaned at the mere sight of him.

He gripped himself tighter and moved a little faster. She could see him lengthening, see the veins in his shaft pulsating as his breath laboured. His arm flexed with each movement and she noted the way the light of the moon caught on a vein that protruded from his bicep. She could feel herself growing wet again, nearly dripping with the need to be filled and fucked by a creature so virile. A drop of cum beaded the tip and he groaned. Sarah's fingers moved lower, tracing her folds teasingly.

"Are you wet, Sarah?" he asked, raising one brow in a false smile as his jaw tightened. Sarah ran her tongue along her dry, open lips, and nodded.

"Yes…" she said, demure.

Feeling his cock pulse in his hand, he reached for hers and suddenly pushed her own fingers within her.

"Then feel it," he urged, his voice lowering to a dark, lascivious growl. Sarah gasped and did as he wanted, pushing two of her thin fingers inside herself as deeply as she could manage. His look on her was turning feral, aggressive, reflected by the violent engorgement of his cock that he continued to pump in long angled thrusts just for her. Her tongue darted out of her mouth at the sight of it. She wanted him inside of her. She wanted him hot and coming and moaning and forcefully pinning her down…

Sarah moaned louder and threw her head back. She was getting more aroused than she wanted and could feel herself approaching another climax. She panted, desperately, a sound that only amplified when two of Jareth's fingers joined hers to plunge within her channel.

Jareth groaned and kneeled over her. His fingers, longer, thicker, and far more skillful than hers, penetrated her deeply, the heel of his hand pressing her own over her clit with an inciting pressure. He stretched her, felt the soft cushion of her insides and the firmness of her fingers as they trembled without direction. He guided her rhythm, encouraged her to move faster, sharper, and she continued to moan in response. One of her legs straightened, allowing him to adjust his stance and rear over her at eye-level. She could feel the head of his cock jutting against her stomach, wettened and hot.

He buried his face in the crook of her neck and flushed her with the heat of his breath as he moaned. She arched her neck for him, willing him to bite down, and lifted her stomach up against his knuckles as they moved faster and faster. Her belly was smeared with his fluids, and she could tell from the sharp inflection in both their breaths that climax was imminent.

"Sarah...your cunt is so wet. So greedy. Come for me, you filthy thing."

His words were muffled in her hair but absolutely torrid. Her cries of pleasure turned high and she trembled against him. He was fucking her so thoroughly with their hands she could no longer stand it. She felt the knot in her abdomen tighten, felt the pang that shot through her groin because of it, and shrieked. She bowed, clawing her free hand around his shoulder and digging into it viciously.

Jareth gasped, groaned, and shuddered as the pain threw him over the edge. His fist gripped himself fiercely as he came, in a searing mess, across her stomach. Sarah's cunt was constricting around their hands, pushing their fingers together in a prolonged moment of rapture. He imagined the feeling around his cock. Imagined the heat, and the moisture, and the soft muscle jerking every last bit of seed that instead spilled down her abdomen and over the sides of her ribs.

Breathing raggedly, Jareth pulled away from her and sat back on his heels. He withdrew his hands and flicked the one that had been holding his cock in the air, casting away stray traces of cum. Sarah scooched up a little, her chest rising and falling heavily as she watched him. Without a word he reached for her legs and placed them over his shoulders. She leaned back to the ground and he followed, crouching over her as he positioned himself at her swollen entrance. His erection was perfectly renewed, gloriously hard and pulsing, and filled her fully as he pressed inside.

Sarah had learned that a thing like stamina did not exist in a dream. Bodily fatigue had no place here. It did not matter what they did, nor how many times they did it. They could fuck for days, and years, and milennia, sucumbing to the pleasure of orgasm limitlessly. They could live and die within her mind -he'd told her this and more, made the argument sound quite poetic if not disturbingly tempting.

She was glad for such freedom, as the pain a number of their exploits put her through was not something she could have handled in the real world. But this was training. Pain was something she did not have to feel. Here it didn't matter. It didn't matter if he was rough, or selfish, or violent. Here she could inflict the same. Here she could make him feel everything and nothing all at once. As he pushed deeper within her, bent her legs to her chest as he reared over her, she closed her eyes and felt it all. It was acute, and sublime, and so much more poignant than the smell of pine and magic, dirt, and rot.

Jareth thrust into her slowly, only about half way, and then pulled out. Sarah moaned with impatience and threw her head back. He pushed forward again, and again, teasing her and bringing her unforgivingly close to the edge but never allowing her close enough.

Sarah growled and jerked her hips, hoping to sink him further into her but he pulled back just in time. He put his weight into his shoulders that pressed into the back of her knees, pinning them to her chest and hopelessly to the ground. Her hands clawed around his back, pulling on him in a frustrated plea.

Jareth ran his nose along her cheek, his tender expression contrasting greatly to the vehemence of her own. He pressed into her again, just one inch farther, and held himself there. She started to pant, to grow hot in the face, and turned her expression with all its pitiful need towards him beseechingly. She kissed him, and he let her. She kissed him agonizingly, carelessly, with a wet tongue and lips that plundered his only too-receptive mouth. He ran a hand through her hair and pulled out of her.

"Tell me what you want," he said, softly. Sarah bit her lip.

"I want you to fuck me."

He didn't know why, but a part of him was anticipating she'd put up more of a fight. He almost laughed. Her eyes on him were intense, at wit's end, bright and glistening and glaring with passion. He blinked for a moment, savouring a look of such shameless lust, and then sheathed himself in her fully.

Sarah's jaw dropped and her gasp turned to a high-pitched squeal. Her hands constricted around his shoulders and she fought for a semblence of control as Jareth began to fuck her mercilessly. He held her locked in place, her hips turned up as he plunged, at the perfect angle, in and out of her repeatedly. He filled her to the hilt and pulled all the way back each time, unforgivingly. Over, and over, and over. Her moans turned low, turned to screams, became untethered, unbidden things.

He gasped and screwed his eyes shut. She felt so fucking good at this angle. The cavern of her body opened and was absolutely perfect. He fucked her harder, harder, against her outbursts and cries of pain. The hand that could reach fisted in her hair and jerked her head back. He bit the flesh of her neck that was offered, and sucked, brutally, until the sweet taste of blood glazed his tongue.

Sarah screamed, in terrible euphoria, as sensation wracked through her being. It was too much. Too intense. Too close to pain and yet not close enough.

The feeling of water pooling around them was not enough to call back her attention and she closed her eyes as she called out his name. She wanted him to stop. She needed to breathe. No. No, she had no reason to breathe.

She could hear him moaning wildly at her ear and felt an orgasmic flood building within her. She felt the cool air of the storm breeze over her, and with it came the scent of pine and magic, dirt, and rot.

The water rose higher, over their limbs, between their torsos. Sarah felt her muscles clench yet again. Felt her body thrown into spasm as climax threatened to destroy her. She yearned for it, begged for it, begged him to give it to her. And then the loud, jarring, boom of thunder tore her wide awake.

---

Sarah opened her eyes to find herself huddled in the fetal position, her hands tense and rigid between her thighs. She was laying on her side, and her eyes fluttered open to meet Jareth's in a state of vehement agitation.

He was already watching her, propped on his side on an elbow. Apparently, she'd been doing something interesting.

"You got distracted again," he said, dryly. Sarah scowled and glared away. She rolled onto her back and tore her hands from her groin. It was throbbing. Actually throbbing to the point of pain. She was angry, aroused, and so, so deeply unsatisfied. She was pulled from her rage by Jareth's hand clasping around her wrist. He pulled her back to face him, and she realized there was something misty still lingering in his eyes. "Don't stop."

There was a command in his voice, something low and serious. Sarah's eyes locked with his and her annoyance quelled. She glanced down and saw he was hard, that he was grasping himself through his pants. Sarah's mouth went dry, sexual frustration taking control, as she reached back down to her groin and pleasured herself without reservation.

She closed her eyes and pressed her thighs together. It was always the same. Everything they felt in her dreams added and waited to torture them tenfold by the time they awoke. She was overstimulated. Irritated. Turned on, and impatient. She didn't even care that Jareth was there with her. She just wanted to come. Now. She pressed her fingers against her clit and moaned, her head bowing back against her pillow as her body turned towards him a little more. She heard him exhale roughly, but did not witness him. She couldn't.

He grasped her by the jaw and kissed her, swallowed her moans and her panting breaths, and urged for her body to undulate against him. His free hand tore hers away and then went to the small of her back as he pushed their pelvises together. His erection ground hard against her, harder than even in her dream. She whimpered and curled her leg around his hip, holding him to her as she searched for oblivion. His hand was gripping her ass, holding her possessively as he bit on her lip.

Sarah came. Loudly. The feeling hitting her in waves that coursed through her cunt. It was better than she'd anticipated, and left her breathless and dying. Her hands grasped his face and she kissed him again, for all she was worth.

After a long moment the torrent within her subsided, but not completely. She grabbed him by the shoulder and rolled them until she sat straddling his hips. His chest rose high on a tamed breath but she knew he was feeling just as undone as she had been. She ran her hands down his torso, firmly and dexterously, over the white cotton of his shirt, and pushed open the low neckline. She shifted herself lower, straddling his thighs, and planted hot, open-mouth kisses down his chest.

She licked him. Tore away the fabric of his shirt and sucked on his nipples. He hissed and gripped the back of her head, angling her as she scraped against him with her teeth.

She continued to crawl lower, clawing for the hem of his shirt and pushing it up so she could kiss down the center of his stomach. The muscles of his abdominals tensed, hardening under the heat of her mouth. She traced her tongue around his navel and moved lower still.

Her hands found his pants and quickly tore them open. She pulled his cock free, now physical and vigorous, which filled both her hands. He moaned at her touch, at her greedy and anything but delicate manner.

She took a moment to feel him, to jerk him, and apprise him, and take in every little detail. He was vascular and velvety, and so fucking hard. She grabbed one of his hands and fisted it around himself, coaxing it to life before letting go.

"I like watching you do this," she said, breathily, and locked onto his gaze as he stared down at her. His jaw tensed and his hips churned, warring whether or not to let her have her way. He continued to pump the base of his cock, watching her intently as she extended her tongue and ran it over the head.

"Fuck," he bit out, a small jolt of precum betraying him as he cast his head back to the pillow. Sarah ran her tongue over him again, tasting the fluid and licking it clean. His cock twitched in his hand and she kissed her way down the shaft. His breathing started to escalate, but she was nowhere close to through with him.

She shifted into a more comfortable position between his legs and left provocative kisses all around the head of Jareth's dick. At her behest, he continued to jerk himself off, growing harder and harder from the restraint of it. She ran her tongue over his knuckles, up the length of him, and pressed against the sensitive spot beneath the head. He moaned again, beautifully, and paused in his rhythm. Sarah seized the moment and took him in her mouth. His hips moved but she held him down, lowering her mouth to meet his hand and then pulling back sharply. She tasted another shot of cum hitting her tongue and sucked for more.

He was trembling, trying so hard not to let her undo him. And it only emboldened her more. She hummed as she sucked him, as her saliva spread and dripped down his shaft and onto his hand. He retightened his grip and jerked himself harder, faster. She pulled away from him and left another series of kisses down his shaft, over each pulsing vein that curved around it.

"Are you ready to come for me, Jareth?" she asked, and his response was a begrudging moan in the back of his throat. Sarah grinned. He was being such a gentleman. Perhaps she should put him out of his misery.

She reached below and cupped his balls, feeling for that spot she'd discovered would bend him to her will in an instant.

She found it and his entire body bowed. He groaned and she took him deep into her mouth before he had the chance to come. She sucked on him, maneuvered him with her tongue, and murmured in appraisal as he throbbed, and shuddered, and moaned gloriously all for her.

"Gods, woman. Just do it already." His voice was hoarse, impatient, frustrated just as hers had been. She almost smiled. She had him teetering on the edge and it seemed she really did have the power to keep him there. He was jerking himself off vigorously now, the sound and the sight of which being deeply erotic to her. She pressed her fingers against him more firmly and lifted her mouth to just barely tease the head.

Jareth's hips turned up, thrusting against her lips as the first true shot of cum coated them. She lowered her mouth over him and sucked as he came in spurts one after another. She swallowed, pulled him deep to the back of her throat, and took him for all he had. He was moaning. His hand had stilled at the base of his cock, and the other now fisted aggressively at the crown of her head as the orgasm endured. She breathed sharply through her nose and continued to suck until his body relaxed, until his hips lowered to the bed and his erection softened over her tongue. Finally, she pulled away from him, though his grip in her hair was more hesitant to release her.

She crawled up the length of his body and laid over him. Her hands folded over his chest and she kissed him. His hand knotted in her hair again and pinned her in place as he licked over her lips. The sight of her, bright-eyed and dripping with his cum, was far too provoking. Even now. When she was clean, he kissed her again and she responded with equal fervor. Traveling her dreams had become more of a game than a lesson, and a dangerous, libidinous one at that.

"I think I did better than last time," she said, murmuring between kisses as if sensing his thoughts. He pulled away from her and ran his nose along hers.

"You did. Though you have yet to make it to the end. I'm starting to think you don't want to." His voice was still rough, still worn and faintly aroused. She closed her eyes briefly as she composed herself.

"You're the one who's making failure worth my while. I'm not complaining. I don't think you are either." She smiled and pulled away from him, moving to sit up on her knees over his stomach. Jareth inhaled and exhaled deeply.

"No. Certainly not."

She smiled again and glanced away, down to the side as she mused over something secret. Her hands were placed against his chest, and pushed into him as she moved off and stood from the bed. Jareth sat up, situated his trousers, and watched her as she turned her back on him and ran a frazzled hand through her hair.

"When you said you would teach me the theory of magic, this was definitely not what I was expecting," she said, glancing back at him with a laugh. Jareth grinned. The light from the window shone on her and, combined with her heated cheeks and tangled hair, rendered her positively stunning.

"And I did not expect you to be such an eager pupil. I'm starting to think you're taking advantage of me."

She chuckled, delightfully, and shook her head as she turned away. Jareth finished leaning up and sat on the edge of the bed. His shirt was pulled askew, but he really could not have cared less.

"If only," Sarah said, sardonically, as she made the round to her vanity. She inspected herself and then brushed out her hair. "How long were we out for anyway? It felt like a while," she asked, not bothering to glance back at the clock behind her. Jareth stood and ran a hand through his own disheveled hair.

"About five minutes."

"What?"

Sarah turned around with shock on her face. She wasn't expecting that. It'd felt like hours.

"And good thing too," Jareth continued, overlooking her state of surprise. "You're going to be late if you keep dawdling."

Sarah set down her brush and looked at the clock. It was almost 9 am. Fuck. She was supposed to be meeting the guard in the Capitol Square.

"You're the one who showed up after breakfast. Geez. Roldan's going to yell at me, you know." She berated him, scowling as she smoothed out her dress and gave herself one last once-over in the mirror. Jareth smiled, an expression that showed fully on his face. She paced away, hurriedly, then paused. She stood awkwardly, teetered on a foot, and then groaned, irritably, before storming in the opposite direction straight into the bathroom.

Jareth laughed to himself as the door slammed shut behind her. No doubt there were certain messes that needed seeing to first.

She exited the bathroom quickly and with a huff. She tried to walk past him, but he caught her arm and pulled her back into an embrace. His arms circled over her shoulders and he pressed his cheek against the side of her head.

"Do you remember what we discussed?" he asked. Sarah rolled her eyes.

"Do not eat anything. Do not walk into pointy objects. Do not fall off of cliffs. And do not go into the Labyrinth," she recited, mockingly. Jareth chuckled deep in his chest and the sound reverberated at her ear. It was warm, amused, the same feeling he exuded in his hold of her.

"Very good," he said, and released her. She stepped away but turned back around to face him.

"Do you have anything important to do today?" she asked. She was slipping on her shoes.

"Always."

"When will I see you?"

"After."

Sarah paused and narrowed her eyes on him. He was always so insufferably cryptic when it came to his daily routine. If it wasn't for the impish smile he was giving her, she may have become suspicious. As it was, such a look only irked her and she rolled her eyes away from him.

"Goodbye then," she said, curtly. She was feeling a bit testy all of the sudden, as she often had lately. This had gotten her in trouble more than a few times over the last couple of weeks. And so she tried her best to bite her tongue from saying anything more. Jareth's grin curled and he tilted his head at her as she pouted.

"Would you like me to kiss you?" he asked, teasingly. Sarah crossed her arms when he took a step towards her. "I will. If you ask." Sarah's eyes flickered down to the floor and back up again. He had that tell-tale prowl moving through his shoulders, and he watched her with eyes alight and unblinking. Picking up on the way she was scrutinizing him, he spread his arms in a welcoming gesture. "If you're nice, I'll do other things for you as well."

Sarah pressed her tongue to the back of her teeth as she weighed the challenge, then sauntered over to him with a rather suggestive sway of the hips. She stood before him and placed her hands against his chest, pushing off him as she stood to her tiptoe. Her eyes glazed over, and she stared through him as she inhaled softly through her nose and traced it, just barely, over his cheek. His lips parted in anticipation of her kiss, but she stopped. She held her mouth mere millimeters from his, and the friction of their skin nearly touching sparked a tension she was sure he felt all too acutely. She smiled then, and lowered her eyes.

"Hm...nope," she said, dismissively, as she turned away from him and left the room.

---

Sarah bustled down the stairs of the central hall as quick as her little feet could take her. It was just like Jareth to make her late. He probably planned to mess with her on purpose. She skipped the last couple of steps at the base of the stairwell and broke into a speed-walk as she headed for the main gate. She shook her head as she grumbled internally -completely ignoring her own contribution to the morning's distraction. No, Jareth was scoundrel enough to take the blame for the both of them.

Without breaking pace, she scuttled through the wide frame of the castle doors as they were opened for her by an absolutely massive goblin whom she'd come to know as Reginald.

"Thanks Reggie!" she called out, throwing him a wave but nothing else as she hurriedly hopped down another flight of stairs.

"Goodday, Your Majesty," he responded, bowing before closing the gates behind her. It was common practice to ignore the goblin servants roaming about the castle, but Sarah had made it her first prerogative as Queen to undo all that backwards discourtesy. She'd been learning each and every name of the castle's staff and had insisted they be properly acknowledged for their work. It'd taken some getting used to, but the goblins did seem a great deal happier and stress-free this way. Even Jareth was starting to acknowledge the benefits of her efforts.

Sarah paused and took a breath, using the moment to appreciate the view. The Goblin City appeared vast and golden under the morning sun. She stood high above her destination, eyeing the carriage, her Guard, and presumably Mariella, waiting for her in the courtyard below. Seeing how tiny they all looked had her feeling discouraged, and she exhaled roughly as her gaze fell down the daunting procession of stairs. "Well, come on feet," she told herself, and picked up the skirt of her dress as she began her descent.

Some time later…

"Ah, and there she is," Roldan said, glancing back at Sarah as she hopped down the last few steps. Sarah shot him an eye and moved to stand by Mariella. "You're late," he added, with a frown.

"I know. I know. Give me a break, will ya? I just ran down about twenty flights of stairs," she said, keeling over slightly as she caught her breath. She rested her hands on her thighs and ignored the look of disapproval Roldan was surely giving her for it.

"Sarah, are you alright? Would you like a drink?" Mariella asked. Sarah raised a hand in refusal and straightened up. Marie was watching her worriedly, like she had no idea why she would be the slightest bit tired.

"No, I'm good," she said, taking another deep breath, and pushed back her hair before it had the chance to stick to her neck. "I didn't realize you would be here, Roldan. Are you coming too?" She spied him out of her peripheral just as a widened look of aversion molded his face.

"What? Absolutely not," he said matter-of-factly, and looked away out over the city.

"Why do you say it like that?" she asked, suspicion and even a trace of offense lining her words. Roldan glanced back and looked down his nose at her.

"What is the expression? Ah, yes... T'is women's work," he said, waving a smug hand through the air. Sarah narrowed her eyes on him.

"Uh-huh," she replied, unconvincingly, and turned away from him. "Marie, is everything ready?"

"Yes. Everyone is merely waiting on you...Oh, not that we've been waiting or anything," she was quick to say, a flustered smile and waving hand emphasizing her sentence. Sarah grinned. Roldan huffed. Then all were distracted by a goblin in black-plated armor.

"Your Majesty, good morning," Baldur said, holding his helmet under his arm as he bowed deeply before her. Sarah nodded her head.

"Good morning Baldur. And remember, I told you to call me Sarah. It's no different than before I was married," she said, keeping her eyes on him as he straightened from his bow.

"Of course. Lady Sarah," he replied, which she figured was as close as he would allow himself while in Roldan's company. Sarah smiled and looked over the caravan.

"So this is it? Looks like another parade." There was an open carriage before them, idling with two black friesian horses at the front. There was a smaller, covered carriage in line before it and two open carts behind. Interwoven were squadrons of her royal guard standing in strict alignment. Many carried bannered scepters with ceremonial shields prominently displaying the Goblin Crest, and all wore brightly colored armour of various hues. It all looked very official, though significantly less intimidating than her engagement procession had been. She was half-expecting a fanfare to start up at any moment. It was a bit exciting really.

"Yes. I suppose it is, in some sense," Baldur said, following her gaze over his legion of men.

"Where is Jareth?" Roldan asked her. Sarah looked back at him and shrugged.

"Um...not coming? Why? Is he supposed to be here?"

Roldan frowned and she knew the answer was yes. He sighed, shaking his head as he rolled his eyes away.

"He should be here to see you off, yes. This is your first alms-giving, after all. Why he sends me to do these things…" His voice tapered off in frustration, rankled once again by Jareth's display of, apparently, unkingly flippancy. Sarah pursed her lips and gestured back at the castle with her thumb.

"Well...he kind of did see me off, I guess. He came to wish me luck. That's why I was late," she explained, which was technically true. He had initially stopped by to bid her a good day… "Though I suppose...he could have poofed me here so I didn't have to waste an extra ten minutes walking."

She was glancing down and Roldan grinned as he stared at her. Her finger was tapping her lower lip and she looked unbelievably childish. He crossed his arms and regarded her with a look of detachment.

"Indeed," he said, dismissing the topic, and then turned to address Baldur. "Ready your steeds. Now that she's finally here, we can all get on with our day." Baldur bowed and turned away while Sarah shook her head. Mariella locked her arm in Sarah's.

"Yes. Let's be on then, shall we? I've never been a part of one of these before. I'm quite excited!"

Mariella tugged and Sarah's feet followed. After a stern shout from Baldur, the goblins all mounted their creatures and the horses began to paw the ground in anticipation. Sarah glanced back and waved at Roldan.

"See ya!" she said, cheerfully. Roldan twirled his hand and gave her a gallant, if not entirely sarcastic, bow. She turned away and he stared after her as he stood straight. She was smiling at the goblin, a bright expression which caused a deep crease in her cheek. It was impossible not to admire, nor smile at in kind.

Baldur awaited them beside the step to the carriage and offered a hand to each Lady as they ascended. When they were seated, he closed the little door that locked them in and went to take his place at the head of the procession.

"Geez. This is pretty impressive, isn't it? Jareth really does know how to make a statement," she said, regarding her battalion in all its newly-polished extravagance. The craftsmanship of her carriage alone was a stark contrast to the haphazard construction of the surrounding buildings. This must have been a detail Marie picked up on as well, as her response was in perfect accordance.

"Indeed. This city is...not the grandest, surely, but just look at this upholstery! And these horses? My, I don't think I've ever seen such noble-looking beasts. I am still dazzled. Goodness, I cannot believe little-old-me is part of a royal alms procession. Mother will be so proud!" Marie clapped with glee, then nearly fell out of her seat as the carriage lurched forward. Sarah laughed and helped to ease her back.

"Hang on there," she said, continuing to laugh as Marie settled and smoothed out her dress with a huff. Sarah turned away and glossed over the city. She hadn't noticed before, but goblins had gathered at the edge of the street to watch the procession, which had her compulsively raising her hand to greet them like a well-seasoned debuton.

The goblins responded with cheer, which had her smiling awkwardly like an idiot. They sure did like her a lot more this time around. She was starting to shy away from all the vying attention when a loud series of yips distracted her.

She glanced down to spy a shaggy dog trotting alongside the carriage. And riding atop it, a familiar knight sporting a blue-velvet cap and an expertly feathered tail.

"Whoa, boy! Steady now. It's only the Queen," Sir Didymus said, reaching down to pat the dog on the side of the neck. Sarah smiled wide and leaned over the rail of the carriage.

"Ambrosius? Sir Didymus?! Goodmorning!" she said, pleasantly caught off guard as the shaggy dog looked up at her and began to bound fervently. Sir Didymus tapped the pooch on the head with his staff and settled him down.

"Really now, is that any way to behave? Ah, goodmorning My Lady! I say, you look as exquisite as ever. And you too, Lady Mariella." Marie had moved to join Sarah at the railing, perched on her knees between the two benches, as she greeted the knight.

"Why thank you, good Sir. Shall you be our personal guard this day?"

"But of course! Who better than I can protect our Queen? None I say!"

Sarah laughed as Didymus swung his staff wildly through the air in a brief moment of passion. Mariella covered her mouth with her hand as she giggled -she had definitely taken to Didymus the most.

"That is most certainly true. I'm glad you were assigned so close," Sarah said, her tone softening as she urged him to calm down. Didymus sniffed and bounced his head proudly as he swayed atop his steed.

"With Your Majesty's blessing, undoubtedly. It is the greatest honor to serve as your most intimate guardian. I shan't ever stray from your side. I will conquer any foe! Anywhere!-"

"-Any place, any time. Yes I know," Sarah finished, reaching out with a hand this time to gentle him. Didymus gruffed and inhaled deeply. "I have total faith in your abilities."

Sarah was glad, ecstatic actually, the moment she realized she really could restation all of her friends. Immediately, she'd assigned Sir Didymus to her Queen's Guard, and Hoggle and Ludo together to serve as grounds keepers to the royal gardens. This meant she'd get to see the lot of them whenever she wished, and had taken much joy in introducing them to Mariella. The five of them got along well, and it was a change in the tone of her daily routine that went unparalleled.

"You are too kind, Your Majesty," Sir Didymus said, removing his cap as he bowed to her. Sarah grinned. His display of chivalric manner was the only one she could stand, the only one she viewed as being truly genuine. She didn't mind that he called her Majesty. From him it felt endearing.

Sarah sat back in her seat and Mariella reflected her on the opposite side.

"Do you know where we're going first, Sir Didymus?"

"Not far. Today we shall explore the market district. T'is close to the castle."

"Oh...Shouldn't we be going somewhere more impoverished?"

"Ah, indeed we are. Where do you think the beggars and the thieves go for their scraps? The Markets of course! Not to mention this sector borders Wallen. You shan't find any lack of panhandlers there."

"Wallen...That's close to the junkyard, isn't it?" Sarah asked. She was trying to remember more of the city's layout from Roldan's lessons, but it wasn't quite coming back to her. Wallen was a slum, that much she knew.

"Why yes. It is the most impoverished district within the city. We trampled it a bit the last time we stormed the castle," he explained, which had Marie's brow rising.

"Stormed the castle? Sarah you never told me this. I thought you merely ran the Labyrinth? I didn't think you'd actually declared war with His Majesty." -And to that Sarah laughed. She could not, and did not even try, to stop herself. Marie was staring at her with quite the look of befuddlement. As memories of the four of them storming the castle came back to her, Sarah only laughed harder. "Sarah?"

"I'm sorry Marie. Really. ...no it wasn't like that. I definitely did not declare war on him," and she waved at the crowd once more as her giggling subsided. "He sent a mock squadron of goblins to mess with me, which we successfully evaded. There was a lot of collateral damage though...apparently he didn't care about that," she explained, her thoughts briefly wandering to the poor goblins whose houses had been destroyed during all that chaos...Jareth had spared the time to fix them, right?

"Ah...I see….a very strange game he played with you, even for a King," Mariella said, lowering her gaze to her lap as she contemplated. Sarah's grin curled.

"Yes, well...Jareth is very strange, even for a King."

After a few minutes, the carriage rolled to a halt at the edge of a wide street. Lined on either side were stalls advertising many forms of wares native to both the Under and Aboveground. She heard Baldur shout from the front of the line and immediately rows of soldiers dispersed to form a perimeter.

"Seems we're here," Marie said, peering around curiously as Baldur dismounted his beast and walked towards them. Once he arrived, Sir Didymus bowed his head in deference and nudged Ambrosius to back up a few paces.

"Welcome to the Goblin Markets, Your Majesty," Baldur said, opening the door for them and offering a hand first to Marie, then Sarah, as they dismounted. Sarah's eyes, glancing about the city, were full of wonder; though she still managed to spare Ambrosius a tender ruffle atop his head. Mariella joined her at her side, suddenly carrying a small wooden chest.

"What's this?" Sarah asked. Mariella flicked open the latch on the box and opened it slightly, revealing a hint of gold coins within.

"Your charity. Straight from the royal coeffers," she said, and snuck her hand inside to pull out a fistful of coins that she then dropped into Sarah's. "I am advised not to let you dispense of it too quickly," she added. Sarah nodded but said nothing right away, distracted by the movements of goblins unloading the carts behind her. She turned to face them.

"What are they doing?" she asked. Mariella peered around to watch with her as crates of fresh produce were unloaded one by one.

"That is the rest of our alms. Normally, you would take charge of the coin and your Ladies would distribute food and cloth. However, as you only have me, the goblins shall see to all of that."

"Ah," Sarah replied, turning back towards the market. They were at the very edge. Most of the shops here were closed or broken down. That made her sad, even knowing full well what to expect. Goblins were gathering around them, mostly quiet yet jittering, and were kept in a wide circle by the discretion of her guards. "So this is where we're starting then?"

"Yes. This is what is known as the Lower Market," Baldur informed, directing soldiers about their tasks with the simple flick of his wrist. Sarah's frown deepened. There was only one shop that she could see that wasn't boarded up, and the fruit it was selling was already rotten and attracting flies. There was no one in the street, no one but those gathering around her. Geez...This wasn't a market at all.

"I see…" Sarah mumbled, gripping the coins she held a little tighter as she realized this wasn't going to be as fun a trip as she'd thought. She caught the eyes of a goblin staring at her with an agonizing level of patience, and she bit her cheek to stop her frown from worsening. It looked terrified and starving. "Well, let's get to it then."

---

Jareth stood with his arms crossed as he stared out over the Labyrinth. It was warm and quiet, save a gentle lull of breeze that swept up the ends of his hair and cape. It billowed, tossing up puffs of sand that then drifted away into oblivion.

The sun was out, nary a cloud in sight as it's rays beat down on the tanned, weathered stone of his kingdom. He was standing at the edge of his city. Under a tree that held more significance to him than it should have.

He marked a line at the edge of the sand with his boot and sighed as he knelt down to the ground. The desert was spreading farther. Every day. He was hesitant to admit the process had quickened. That he was undoing centuries of effort purely out of fear and pride.

He clawed his fingers into the ground, pushing to the second knuckle, and closed his eyes as he focused. A tremor passed through him and into the ground, radiating ever outward, urging the sands to retreat and rebuild.

Liana stared at him wordlessly. Her arrival was silent, though it wasn't but a moment or two before Jareth peered over at her with a glare.

"What do you want?" he asked, his tone terse but not with anger. Liana crossed her arms and gazed out over the Labyrinth.

"Nothing at the moment," she replied. Jareth looked away from her and back at the ground. A shudder coursed through his arms, causing him to focus more intently.

"Well, if you haven't noticed, I'm a bit busy." His tone was dismissive, his posture tense as he crouched on the ground. Liana peered down her nose at him. He really was trying.

"I know. I've come to help."

Jareth paused and glanced at her as she stepped towards him. She too knelt down, fanning out the skirt of her dress, as she mirrored his posture in the dirt. She splayed her hands wide, the tips of her fingers turning into roots, just before she sank them deep into the earth.

He saw her eyes were closed. Her expression was just as serious as his.

"I'm surprised," he said, not ready to trust her intentions, and caught her reflexive smile.

"I know. It's been a while."

He turned away from her wordlessly and closed his eyes as he reignited the flow of magic between himself and the ground. The vibrations increased in frequency with Liana at his side. At one point the difference in their effort might have stung his pride, but not now. Now it was all he could do not to ask for her help.

Grains of sand hovered in the air around their hands, but only a few felt compelled to move away.

"The desert is spreading," Liana said. Jareth's jaw tensed.

"Obviously."

"Faster than before."

"Your point?"

"None. A simple observation."

They were each quiet for a few minutes, focusing their strength on the task at hand. Before Sarah, the two of them spent the majority of their time engaged in such activities. Working together to rescind the desert had been the deal they'd struck. Ever since the return of her master however, tensions had been high and Jareth found himself, more often than not, labouring on his own.

Over the course of his reign, Jareth, through his own power, had been able to slow the spread of the desert to just a few inches per year. In the less than three months since Sarah's return, it had already exceeded that by six feet.

"Where is Sarah?" Liana asked. Jareth inhaled deeply, fighting off annoyance at her continued interruptions.

"Passing out alms," he said, with a hint of sarcasm. Liana raised a shrewd brow but it went unnoticed.

"I'm surprised you're confident enough to leave her unattended like that," she said. A slight sneer tugged at the corner of Jareth's mouth.

"She is not unattended."

"Still...I would have expected you to be more cautious."

Jareth spied on her from his peripheral. There was inflection in her voice, something provoking that betrayed her apathetic stare.

"Hovering over her will do none of us good," he said. Liana tilted her head, her way of shrugging he presumed. "Besides...there have not been any further indiscretions since we last met."

"Indeed not."

Her tone was clipped. Baited. The ground churned a bit as her roots bore deeper and Jareth's eyes lowered. She was trying to unnerve him.

"You sound unconvinced. Is there a reason you're worried for her safety?"

Liana shot him an eye, but nothing more.

"No. She is...very well guarded. I suppose it is simply my desire to hover." She paused and brought her attention back to the ground. She had more to say. He could sense it. "With that said...I don't like the idea of her being so far away from the both of us."

Now that was surprising. Jareth's brow lifted as he regarded her.

"She's been in the city before. She handled herself well-enough then."

"True." She spoke plainly but for some reason it was making Jareth nervous. They'd never had a conversation regarding Sarah that was both honest and calm. He continued to stare at her, knowing there was still more hanging on the end of her tongue. "...I sense you've begun instructing her on magic."

"And?"

"And I'm surprised. I did not anticipate such a concession from you." A faint smile graced her lips. It had Jareth scowling.

"Concession? It's for her own protection. At this point…" His voice tapered off with distaste. Yes, he and Sarah were having fun but the fact of the matter was he felt cornered into what was, in actuality, a very undesirable situation. It meant he was losing. It meant he had given up. He tried to console himself with the reminder that he'd given up a long time ago.

"Yes...and you're not at all concerned she may inadvertently awaken herself with this newfound knowledge?" Liana asked. Jareth's brow twitched, in spite of himself.

"Not particularly," he said, with distraction, as he forced his focus on the grains of sand hovering in the air. "Though, as you've said, that becomes a bit of a moot point if it was always an inevitability…"

There was a pause, a moment where Liana inspected, literally, the level of integrity in those words. When she was finished, she turned away and gazed out over the scenery.

"I see...are you going to tell her? When you deem her prepared?" she asked. Jareth was scowling. She was making it damn impossible to focus.

"I don't think she will ever be prepared."

"No...she will not." There was another silence, one that weighted the space between them. He could sense she was still not done talking and merely waited for the pin-prickling sound of her voice to pick back up again. "I'm sensing a nuclear level conduit adorning her...May I ask what manner of defenses you have fortified her with this time?"

Jareth smiled. Her tone was too candid. Was she trying to handle him right now?

"Everything," he said, then turned to shoot her a glare. "She shan't fall victim to any means of physical, spiritual, or mental attack. Curses. Dark objects. Sensory magic. Etcetera."

"What of botanicals?"

Jareth's smile widened.

"Feeling insecure are we?" He quirked a brow at her and only huffed when her response was naught. "Whatever plants that can be warded against have been. You know as well as I that not everything found in nature falls victim to my whim," he went on, shrugging discursively. "There's nothing growing within the city limits that can harm her. I've made sure of that. Actually, I'm fully confident there is no longer any manner of magic that can influence her."

"Save from yourself?" she countered, and a haughty smirk flashed across his face.

"I am no threat to her."

"Indeed…" Liana's voice trailed off and Jareth was content to let the conversation die there. Liana however, was feeling a trace bit of apprehension. True, Jareth's ward may be effective against all external magics...but the Labyrinth was already inside of her. That could complicate things. She wasn't sure whether or not to warn him about such distinctions...he might try to reinforce his ward against her, and she was barred far enough away from Sarah already. "You've done well," she said.

Jareth's ears actually twitched with surprise, and he turned to look at her with such.

"What was that?"

"Your conduit is exceptional. I'm impressed." She met his gaze and ignored the high level of scrutiny she saw in him. He stared at her for a moment, as if testing her words, then glared away dismissively.

"Don't coddle me, It's unsettling."

"Heh. Forgive the compliment," she said, holding back a laugh at such a display of petulance. Her eyes lowered to the ground, to the earth that churned beneath her fingers, and smiled. "It's been a long time since we've spoken like this, hasn't it?"

"Your point?"

There was little effort in concealing the aggravation in Jareth's voice. It was strained, spoken through a tensed jaw as he struggled to carry out his work.

"It's nice, is it not?" she spoke again, changing the subject as a bit of cheer rose in her voice. Jareth looked over to her skeptically. "Us. On the same team again."

"Is that what this is?" he asked, sardonically. Liana leaned up and withdrew her hands. When she looked at him there was a ghost of a smile on her lips.

"Yes." Jareth's eyes narrowed, his suspicion of her readily apparent. Liana's smile curled a little more and she glanced away slowly. "You forget, My Liege, you once asked me to search your heart. And I did. I have always known when you are lying to me. You do truly mean to protect her this time. I am pleased." Her words did little to assuage him, though her posture was totally relaxed. Did that mean she now trusted him? That she believed in his vow to abandon her? He didn't know how he felt about that. How he felt about the knowledge she apparently had over the secrets he kept barred from even himself.

"Should I feel grateful?" he asked, scoffing. "If you know me so well, it is a wonder that Sarah managed to beat the Labyrinth at all." He spoke flippantly, even turning himself away from her to resume his labours. There was a definite pause before she responded, a silence weighed heavy.

"A wonder. ...Yes."

Jareth felt a tick in his jaw, causing him to hesitate once again. There was too much provocation in those words. He would not play into it by looking over at her. His thoughts however, did all the manipulation for her.

"Are you saying you let her win?"

Again it was silent, the answer to his question carried as a whisper on the breeze.

"Was it really either of our place to see her fail?" she asked. Jareth felt his teeth grinding and he glared over at her.

"You wanted her to become your master? Why?" His voice was raised by only a hint of anger, something which grew when her answer was silence. "It was by your own proclamation that you could not give yourself. What other lies have you deceived me with?" She heard offense in his voice, however restrained -not entirely undeserved, she admitted. Liana rolled her head and inhaled deeply. Apparently she was the only one still focusing on exuding magic.

"Deceive you? My Jareth, t'was no such thing. I accepted Sarah as my master because of you. Was it not your desire that she should win?" She was playing with him, the physical flicker of flame that danced in her eyes just then confirmation enough. "And I did not lie. Sarah did win me. I simply made myself a rather flaccid opponent." Jareth fought back a scowl.

"You knew that I was planning to kill her."

"I also knew that you would not."

"Because you know my heart? You really are determined to never see me as your master, aren't you."

"Am I?"

Jareth shook his head. There was always an angle with her, always a secret that was perfectly designed to piss him off. The arrogance in her tone was something far too familiar to him.

"What then, you would subject yourself to self-destruction out of sport? To irk me?"

Liana tilted her head towards him and gave him an eye.

"I have existed for far longer than even you can comprehend, little king. Please, do not insult me by thinking I am anywhere near destruction. Whether Nature be barren or bountiful, I am still me. And I shall continue to exist long after this life and this place sinks into the blackest of oblivions." She spoke plainly, but it only had Jareth's brow furrowing.

"Is that meant to reassure me?"

"No...it's simply the truth." She closed her eyes and turned away from him with her head held high, a display of highhandedness that did not go unnoticed. "I would however, like to avoid such a fate. You've proven to be better company to me than many before you. You are certainly more entertaining, and the things Sarah has me feeling are always...colorful, if nothing else." She pursed her lips to stifle a grin, amused at the way he found himself lost for words. He was still glaring at her. She could feel it. But the look wasn't quite as dangerous as it used to be. In reward, she glanced back to him and let her smile show fully. "So come. Stop your pouting. We have work to do."

---

Sarah ran the back of a hand across her forehead as she closed the lid to Mariella's seemingly bottomless treasure chest. It'd been a few hours, and while all they did was casually stroll through the streets of downtown Goblin City, the heat of the afternoon sun was making her feel a little listless.

"Where to next, My Lady?" Didymus asked, thrusting his staff to the ground as he surveyed, with hand of hip, the surrounding suburb.

Weirdly enough, Sarah was given total control over their itinerary. She had expected Baldur to lead her down a predetermined route -at Jareth's discretion no doubt- and was thus surprised when instead they all turned to her and asked, from the very beginning, where she wanted to go. She of course had no idea where the hell they even were, so had just been picking streets at random. Unwittingly, she'd led them to the edge of the district, and was now standing at the border to Wallen. She could see the wall of the Labyrinth looming above, casting a formidable shadow across the town. Perhaps her motivation to come to this place, after seeing the squalor of those living outside the market, had been less than subconscious.

"Um...that way, I suppose?" she half-asked, pointing down an alley that led straight away from them. The guards, Didymus and Baldur included, all turned to follow the direction of her finger.

"That way leads into Wallen, Your Grace," Baldur said.

"So?"

"You are meant to bless the Market District this day. Wallen is reserved for a later date."

Sarah pursed her lips as she stared past them into the alley. It was darker there, the shade cast by the Labyrinth rendering it a bit symbolic. She spied the eyes of a child, then, peeking out from behind a dented trash can and watching her anxiously. It was afraid to approach, perhaps afraid that it was not its turn. Sarah's expression hardened into a frown. The poor thing was shaking. It had the tiniest fingers and the saddest, most quibbling eyes.

"We're already here. Does it really matter?" she countered, her tone suddenly harder as she looked over to Baldur. Baldur blinked, not expecting her sudden shift in demeanor.

"Um...not really, I suppose," he said, uncertainly. Sarah turned away and moved to grab a few apples from the cart behind her.

"Is there any mandate saying I can't leave the Market District?" she asked.

"Not explicitly, no…"

"Then it's settled. Come on." She tossed an apple to Marie and walked past her guard into the alley. The child panicked and ducked behind the recepticle, causing Sarah to slow and crouch down to appease it. "Hey there, it's okay," she said, softly. "You can come out now. I have something for you." She smiled when the little goblin peered out from its hiding spot, but then she scowled when the sound of her guards moving around her frightened it off again. She frowned at them and shooed them away. "Don't worry about them. They won't bother you. Do you want something to eat?"

She wasn't sure how she knew it was a child, but she did. Its eyes were too large and it had tattered brown hair that framed its face all the way to its chin. It stepped around from behind the can again, revealing an ill-fitted pair of shoes that split to reveal a set of muddied toes which curled nervously. Its fingers were knobby, with nails untrimmed and broken. It kept its hands close to its chest and took tentative steps towards her. Sarah smiled again, waiting patiently for it to warm up to her.

She extended a hand and held out an apple. It reached her, but stopped, looked her in the eye for a split second, and then abruptly snatched the apple from her hands before darting away between two buildings.

Sarah sat there, crouched in the gravel, and frowned. She wasn't sure she was cut out for this. Her heart bled too readily for these creatures. She'd nearly offered to adopt that poor thing just now. If only it hadn't run. She only hoped it had parents to run to. Sadly, this was not the first time this had happened to her today.

She stood and brushed the dirt from her dress.

"Alright. Let's find some others."

They'd spent a great deal of time wandering the Wallen Slums, though Sarah had yet to establish a clear recollection of any one structure from her previous visit three years prior. The wall of the Labyrinth was now eclipsing the sky as they stood under it. It was odd, she didn't remember it being that tall before. With a deep breath, she put her hands on her hips and looked to the ground. She was feeling pretty fatigued and began to search for a place to sit; then glanced back at her expectant caravan.

"Shall we take a break?" she suggested. The paupers were gone. The street was quiet and empty, save them, under the Labyrinth's watchful gaze. Baldur stepped forward and bowed his head.

"Of course, My Lady," he said, and gestured for a soldier to bring forth her designated pitcher and glass of water. She accepted and chugged it down in just a few gulps. Mariella stood next to her and received her own drink, though with a bit more tact.

"How much longer do we have to do this?" Sarah asked. Sir Didymus stood to their side, brushing the dust from Ambrosius's fur.

"As long as you'd like. We can turn around now, if you wish. Or you may retire for the day."

"If I wish?"

"Normally, you would also walk the journey back to the castle. But I understand if you're feeling a bit tired. It turned out to be rather hot today," Mariella answered. Sarah nodded, taking another long sip.

"Or I'm just out of shape," she spoke into her cup. She kicked at a pebble and brought a hand to her stomach absently.

"Are you alright?"

Sarah peered over at Marie.

"Huh?" Mariella frowned as her eyes flickered down to the hand Sarah held over her stomach. Sarah flinched and lowered it back to her side. "Yes. I'm just tired," she added, assuringly. Mariella did not look convinced.

"You've been tired quite a lot lately, and you've been a little pale...are you sure you're feeling well?" she asked. Sarah rolled her eyes.

"I've been tired because Jareth is teaching me to combat dreamweaving, remember?"

"Yes…but you haven't been eating very well either."

Sarah shot her gaze back to her.

"What are you talking about? I've been eating just fine," she retorted, sharply. Mariella pursed her lips, warring over whether or not to push the issue. She'd noted Sarah had been picking at her plate more and more often recently. Perhaps it was nothing. Maybe she was just being overbearing. In the end, she decided to let the matter go.

"Very well then," she said. Sarah turned her gaze forcibly at the Labyrinth, not wanting to admit Marie might have been right. The nymph had been scrutinizing her habits all week, which had left her with a rather short string of patience on the matter. So what if she wasn't eating quite as much as she used to? Given the way Roldan so often shamed her for her appetite, she didn't consider that to be a bad thing.

"We ended up pretty close to the Labyrinth, didn't we?" she asked, changing the subject before it rankled her further. Mariella followed Sarah's gaze and stared up at the massive wall of the Labyrinth.

"So it seems...Looks a bit imposing up close, doesn't it?"

"Not really…" Sarah mumbled. Her head tilt to one side as she regarded it, wondering, with a peculiar awareness, if she was in fact guiding them to this spot all along -now that was a strange thought to have. Her eyes rose higher and spied the withered remains of vines creeping over the top of it. "Those vines…"

"Hm?"

Sarah turned to face Marie once more, though she took a step away from her.

"Hey, Marie, did I ever tell you about the last time I came out into the city?"

Mariella followed after her.

"Yes. You escorted a troupe of goblins to their houses and dined with them."

"Yeah...Did I tell you about the weird story though?"

They were moving closer towards the wall, Marie watching as Sarah's head reclined farther back as she stared up at it.

"I...can't say if I recall."

"They said the Labyrinth has a spirit...like a soul or something. They said when it heals itself those vines appear," she explained, raising an arm to point up at the sprawling vines. Mariella peered up as well, though she didn't regard them with the same level of interest.

"Oh...interesting."

"Isn't it? I asked Jareth about it once but...I don't know, the conversation got really confusing after that." Sarah looked down, to Sir Didymus, who was only a few feet away. "Sir Didymus, you wouldn't happen to have any insights into the Spirit of the Labyrinth?" she asked. Didymus patted Ambrosius on the flank before joining them at Sarah's side. The guards were already moving around her, always keeping a perfect circle of protection.

"Spirit of the Labyrinth? Hm...I have heard tales of this, yes, though I cannot say what is fact or fiction."

"I'd like to hear it all, if you don't mind."

"But of course! Yes, they say the Labyrinth has a mind of its own. A powerful force which protects all that dwell within, and in turn punishes those that would do it harm." She waited for him to continue, but he didn't.

"I see...anything more than that?"

"Oh! Yes. It, and the castle, are the oldest remaining structures still in existence. Though...no one knows which came first. I've never heard of these vines, though that does not mean it cannot be true. There are many things of suspicious sentience within the Labyrinth," he explained. Ambrosius had moved towards Mariella, who knelt down to pet him as Didymus spoke. Sarah gazed up once more, finding herself a bit lost amidst all the tesselating stones.

"Do you know who built it? And why?"

"T'was built before such things were documented, I'm afraid. Some believe it was built by King Orpus. Others say it existed long before."

"You know about Orpus?" Sarah asked, absently, as she stepped a little further towards it. Baldur eyed her curiously.

"Of course. I am a knight."

"Ah."

"Perhaps, if it protects, it was built in defense of the castle," Mariella suggested. Ambrosius was licking her hand, which had her shooing him away with feigned distaste. His tail wagged happily, which was enough to earn back her affections. Sarah spied on a bench pressed against the wall. For some reason, that seemed more comfortable than the padded seat of the carriage.

"Given how Jareth can bounce around it carefree...seems kind of obsolete now, don't you think?" Sarah asked, glancing back over her shoulder to Marie.

"Yes, well...back then our abilities were not so refined, remember? The fae were not as evolved, as powerful as His Majesty is. I imagine this maze provided a very adequate defense back then. And besides, if it protects the castle, then surely it also protects its King. Perhaps he has a certain...affinity with it. That, or maybe it's just centuries of familiarity that allows him to trek it with such ease." Sarah's brow furrowed as she listened. Something was distracting her. She felt very absent-minded all of the sudden. She was still taking steps. What was she walking towards again?

"Hm…"

"My Lady!"

Sarah blinked and looked down. Baldur was standing in front of her, between her and the wall. He looked upset. She frowned and shook her head clear of the daze.

"Huh? What?"

"Majesty, forgive me, but I must urge you to step back," he said, and gestured towards her with his hands. "We are under strict orders not to allow you to enter the Labyrinth."

Sarah blinked, staring at him with disconcertion.

"What? I know that," she said, shaking her head as the million-and-one promises she'd made to Jareth on the matter replayed quickly through her mind. "Relax, Baldur. I wasn't going to go in…There's not even a gateway," she argued, gesturing from left to right down the span of the wall. "I was just going to sit on this bench," she continued, ignoring his urgency by turning and plopping herself down on the bench without preamble. Baldur stared at her worriedly.

"Twould be better to rest in the carriage, My Lady," he said. Sarah shook her head.

"Jesus, it's just a bench. And I'm already here," she said, with minor annoyance. She crossed her legs and patted the seat next to her. "You can come and join me, if you want."

"Why, don't mind if I do, My Lady," Didymus responded, with complete ignorance, and hopped up to sit beside her. Sarah grinned and looked to Baldur challengingly.

"See Captain? It's only a bench," she said, teasingly.

"And a sturdy one at that," Didymus added, tapping his staff against the stone as Sarah laughed. Mariella was still playing with the dog, not entirely paying attention. Baldur grumbled, unsure of what to do. The King was very clear not to let her enter the Labyrinth. But...he never explicitly stated she could not be near the Labyrinth... She was merely resting. Perhaps it was fine. He gave in to loiter with her against the wall.

Sir Didymus eased back and swung his legs to and fro.

"I don't see what all the fuss is about anyway. It's only the Labyrinth," he said. Sarah snickered. At least one person was on her wavelength. Baldur stood close to her with an intent look on his face, and for a moment she felt bad for teasing him. He was only doing his job after all. Maybe Jareth had threatened him with something scary.

She brought her attention to Marie, who was now rising from her crouch and waving Ambrosius away.

"Away with you, incessant thing," she said, amusedly, and took a few steps towards them. Sarah grinned, taking a deep breath as a wave of ease washed over her. She wasn't sure why, but she felt a whole lot better all of the sudden. Her impatience was gone, as was her fatigue, and the faint discomfort in her stomach. She leaned back and pressed her head against the wall. It felt nice in the shade.

"See Baldur? There's nothing to freak out over. It's just a wall...nothing wrong with touching a wall…" Her head turned and her eyes trailed the lines of the mortar with intrigue as a hand lifted to trace a path in its wake. It felt...soft somehow. Warm. Like home. What?

Sarah felt a very strange sense of awareness hit her just as her eyes turned and locked with Mariella's. That moment felt longer than it should have. It felt...

Marie flinched back and gasped. She blinked but the image remained. She was gone. All three of them were gone.

---

Sarah blinked and stumbled back, oblivious to the fact that she was now standing. There was a wall in front of her. The wall of the Labyrinth. Her heart pounded in her chest and she looked all around. What the fuck was that? Did she- was she just transported into the Labyrinth?

"My Lady, are thoust harmed?"

Sarah looked down with a fevered expression as a hand pressed to her chest. Didymus was there, beside her. The concern she saw on his face helped quell her panic.

"Majesty, you need to breathe."

She glanced to the left and saw Baldur. Goodness, he was there, too. Thank God. She took another step back and did as he said by taking a long, deep breath and composed herself.

"I'm fine. I'm fine," she said, flustered, and continued to look about their surroundings. "What the hell just happened?"

"I don't know. But we are now within the Labyrinth," Baldur said, with a sense of dread it seemed. Sarah gulped and straightened up.

"Okay...so how do we get out?" she asked, remaining cool.

"Sarah?! Sarah?!"

The sound of Marie's voice screaming on the other side of the wall brought her relief. Sarah ran forward and pressed her hands against the wall.

"Marie? I'm here Marie!" she shouted back. She could hear the goblins clamoring, taking some kind of quick action on the other side of the wall.

"Sarah?! Oh thank goodness! I have no idea what happened, but the goblins are going to get you out. Just stay right there!" she said. Sarah nodded, taking a step back.

"Alright. We'll be here."

She moved to join Baldur and Sir Didymus, whose attentions were now trained on defending her.

"I don't understand what just happened," she said, more or less to herself.

"Whatever it is, we shall protect you. My men will scale the wall and pull you to safety. I assure you, My Lady," Baldur said, sternly. Sarah peered down to him with a smile.

"Undoubtedly, good Sir."

The sound of grappling hooks clawing the ridge of the wall drew her attention, which was then followed by the sounds of goblins furiously scurrying up it. As Sarah waited, she acknowledged her panic was not so much from a feeling of danger, but by Jareth's reaction should he learn she had been within the Labyrinth at all. At least it would be over soon. Maybe he wouldn't even have to know…

She turned around and looked over the path. It diverged in several ways, drawing the eye over hill and dale as the Labyrinth stretched ever-onward. Its immense presence bewitched her, snared her in a way that left her confused. What was this feeling? There were no words for it. She wanted to take a step further…

"Do not worry Sarah, it will be over soon."

She glanced down to find Didymus tugging at the skirt of her dress. She smiled at him reassuringly.

A moment went by, maybe even two, causing her to glance back over her shoulder when she realized it had gone suspiciously quiet. The goblins...Marie...Why was it so quiet all of the sudden?

Her eyes caught on Baldur, whose hardened expression was meant to steady her as he then very calmly said, "Don't panic Sarah...but we're not in the Goblin City anymore."

---

Jareth inhaled deeply as he tried his best to meditate his tension away. The two of them had been quiet for a long while now, thank the gods -though while Liana was pleasantly reposed, Jareth was deeply disconcerted. He knew Liana was scheming, but he'd honestly thought he'd tricked her back then. That Sarah really had won her heart. Was Liana bluffing? Was she trying to gain the upper hand by claiming to have been an even more devious puppet master? And to what end? Why in the world would she let herself be taken by Sarah?

He forced these thoughts away for the time being. Liana was right; they had a job to do. And the fact was that Jareth had been slacking over the last few weeks. It was too easy to idle the days away with Sarah. Too easy to stop caring whether the land became barren or bountiful.

He wasn't sure how much time had passed when Liana suddenly stopped what she was doing. She pulled back abruptly, the roots of her fingers snapping in the dirt as she did so. Jareth looked over at her. There was worry on her face.

"What?"

Liana blinked and her head twitched. Jareth's brow furrowed. That couldn't be good.

"Where...did you say Sarah was again?" she asked. And now Jareth leaned up from the ground as well.

"She's in the market sector. Close to the castle." -At least he hoped. None of his wards had gone off, and he'd reinforced them multiple times over since returning from the north. The look on Liana's face however brought him uncertainty.

"Not anymore," she said, and stood to her feet. Jareth followed, watching her intently as her wide eyes darted as if privy to something he could not see. "You're sure she cannot enter the Labyrinth?"

"I never said that. She does however know not to…"

"But that doesn't mean she won't."

"What are you getting at? Will she awaken simply by entering?"

"No...she won't. But that's not the point." Her head turned towards the castle, and her look of concern became sheer panic as her eyes veered sharply back to his. "You need to go to her Jareth. Now."

---

Mariella staggered back as worried fingers tapped furiously over her lips. Oh dear. Oh dear. What in the world has happened? She watched in fright as the goblins climbed the wall, hoping, praying, pleading, that in only another moment they would return with Sarah in tow. She contended whether or not to send for His Majesty. She had no knowledge of the Labyrinth. She wasn't sure how urgent a matter this was. Sarah was not afraid, but surely there was a reason Jareth was so intensely defensive against it? The goblins rounded the top of the wall. However, the breath Marie took in preparation of a sigh instead choked her when the soldier no sooner turned to her and said, "She's gone."

"W-What? What do you mean, she's gone? I just spoke to her!" Mariella shrieked, running up to the wall once more in a panic. "Sarah?! Sarah?! Can you hear me?!"

"Quick lads! Fan out and find the Queen! Didymus and the Captain are with her, but we must move with haste!"

The goblins climbed more urgently then, those still on the ground mounting their steeds and galloping off to the nearest gate. Mariella paced back with a widened, horrified expression.

"Gods...Oh gods….we need to find His Majesty. Someone send word for The King!"

Before the words could finish leaving her lips, a harsh gust of wind sent her nearly toppling over. She took a step back and braced herself against it, left utterly bemused by the angry voice that then cut through the air.

"Where is she?!"

Mariella whipped her head around as Jareth shoved past her. He looked absolutely livid. Like an animal. His eyes were seared to the wall, and she feared his stare alone held the power to crumble it.

"I-I don't know, Your Majesty," she said. Jareth glared back at her with a fury that had Mariella actually trembling. She hunched her shoulders and stepped away from him.

"What do you mean, you don't know?" he asked, his tone cutting through her as he took an aggressive step in her direction. One of the soldiers rushed to stand between them and dropped to his knees.

"Your Majesty, please. It was not the lady's fault. We were resting and the Labyrinth took her."

"Took her? What do you mean it took her?"

There was an ire in Jareth's words as sharp as a razor's edge, something that had every single soldier falling into pitiful silence. The markings around his eyes turned black, matching his armor and his cape that now seemed to billow with a demonic aura.

"We don't know. One moment she was here, the next she was not."

"There was no gate, Your Majesty. I don't understand what's happened. We spoke to her through the wall. She and the knights were together on the other side but- but by the time they came to rescue her, they were no longer there."

"Knights?"

"Yes. Sir Didymus and Captain Baldur. Thank the gods she is not alone."

"As if that matters," Jareth hissed, turning away from her and slowly crouching as he said, "Pray she is uninjured, or I will have all of your heads."

In a flash too grand for Mariella to fully comprehend, she watched as Jareth ducked down, immersing himself in a churning cocoon, as his cape paled and frayed around him. She felt another powerful gust of wind and magic push her back as he leapt into the air and, as the tatters of fabric receded, was left in awe by the sight of a beautiful golden owl soaring in its wake.

She brought her hand to her chest as her breath hitched, her eyes unblinking, as she watched powerful wings splay and thrust towards the sun. He vanished over the ridge of the wall, leaving all those who saw struck pitifully dumb. What a magnificent sight, Mariella thought. Just magnificent...

---

Sarah's eyes narrowed as she digested Baldur's words, and instinctively looked up at the wall that was no longer there. Her eyes widened and her back foot rooted in place. There was now an archway in front of her, framing a path along with the now very distant figure of the castle beyond it.

Fuck.

"Did we just get teleported again?" she asked and peered all around. They were standing in a courtyard, somewhere very much immersed within the maze.

Sir Didymus turned around and inhaled sharply.

"Indeed, Fair Maid. Fear not. I am by your side."

"I'm not afraid, Didymus, just confused…" she mumbled, distracted by the scenery. She took a few steps away as she tried to rationalize the situation. "What the hell is going on?"

"I cannot say, My Lady. It seems the Labyrinth has swallowed us," Baldur replied, standing close to her side as he withdrew his sword. Sarah glanced down to him with a frown.

"What the hell does that mean?"

"It means we must now make way and escape it. Good thing we've done that once before!" Both Sarah and Baldur turned back to Didymus and his, quite frankly, unwarranted amount of valiant cheer. Sarah cracked a grin in spite of it. Seems like they were about to have another adventure.

There was no way Jareth wasn't going to find out about this…

Double fuck.

"Heh...yeah…" Sarah mumbled, nervously, and scratched the back of her head as she looked back at the castle. It didn't seem that far... "Do either of you know the way?"

"I will once I orient our location," Baldur said, assuredly. Didymus wove his sceptre through the air in retort.

"Nonsense! Do you not hear the call to adventure?! A knight leads by his sense of intuition! This way I say!" he proclaimed, prancing between Baldur and Sarah as he headed blindly down a path. "I promise, Fair Maid, I will have you back in no-time."

Sarah shot a glance at Baldur, who shot her one right back. She could tell he wanted to interject, but it seemed the decision was left to her. She shrugged, apologizing with her eyes, as she turned away and followed after her squirrely, definitely over-confident, knight.

---

Jareth soared high in the sky as he surveyed the many complexities of the Labyrinth below. This was unbelievable. The one thing he'd told them all not to do. Where the fuck even was she? As he scoured, he realized she could be anywhere, anywhere within this massive infernal maze which spanned for thousands of miles. But that shouldn't have mattered. Why couldn't he find her? Something was barring him, stopping him from going to her. Fuck.

He felt a flutter land on his wing and glanced back at it.

"What in the world are you doing? Why have you not gone to her?!"

The butterfly clinging to his feathers spoke telepathically. He glared away and would have growled if he could.

"That's rich. What kind of game are you trying to pull here, Liana?"

The butterfly flapped its wings and crawled along his back.

"Game? What game? I told you to go to her immediately. Why are you hesitating?"

Jareth's head twisted and he flapped his wings harder.

"Hesitating? You must know I cannot find her. Do you think this is amusing?"

"What do you mean, you can't find her? What of your wards?"

"Are you serious?" Jareth asked, beside himself. "The Labyrinth is cloaking her from me, and you are the Labyrinth."

"Jareth, don't be daft," Liana said, pacing back and forth along his back. "I am not the Labyrinth. The Labyrinth is me, and I am more than the sum of my parts."

"What the fuck are you saying?"

"The Labyrinth is like a limb. You've blinded me from her, so it's acting on little more than reflex. Embracing her on instinct. I can feel her, but because of your stupid charm I cannot discern her location. And because I do not know where she is, I cannot consciously negate that reflex and reveal her to you," she explained, her voice rising through his mind with impatience. Jareth felt a wave of anger course through him, something dangerous and distracting that he could not fall prey to now. He shuddered, forcing the feeling away as he continued to search the ground.

"Are you fucking with me?"

"I warned you our connection may be reestablished through physical contact. What did you think those consequences would be? Your charm has made it dangerous for her to be here Jareth. If neither of us can find her, then-"

"She is not in danger. I would feel my wards trigger otherwise," he argued, forcing himself to remain level-headed as he processed the gravity of the situation. Sarah was in the Labyrinth, yes, but that didn't mean the end of the world was upon them. She was with her knight, and all she had to do was summon him and he would be able to go to her in an instant. It was fine. It would be fine.

"Indeed. She is not in danger. ...Yet."

"What can you sense?" he asked, pulling back to glide them to the highest branch of a nearby tree. Flying around aimlessly was pointless. He needed a moment to think. Liana crawled along the edge of his wing and flexed her feelers.

"She is calm. Curious. She's trying to find her way back to the castle, though the ambition has yet to reach her heart."

"So she's exploring? Of course she is. Gods damn it Sarah…" He grumbled internally and shook his head. If it wasn't such a delicate situation, he would be imagining the positively legendary spanking he would be sure to give her. Liana flexed her wings again and trailed along his shoulder. The fact that she could be here meant that he was nowhere near close to Sarah...Damnit.

"Can you blame her? She has finally connected with a tangible part of herself. Pray your knights are able to guide her safely back before something dire befalls them."

"What of those creatures? Can you see them if not her?"

"No. They are too close in proximity."

Jareth ruffled his feathers and turned his head toward her. She was glowing, leaving trails of gold dust along his plumage.

"You found her before. You dragged your entrails to our very window. You can find her again."

"Jareth...it took me all night to manage such a feat," she said, then paused. She ceased her pacing, and if an insect could form an expression, he would have said she looked alarmed. "I fear...we no longer have that kind of time."

"What? Why?"

"I'm not sure...but she's heard a song. A spell...I think it might be a Herdsman."

---

Didymus sang a chivalric tune as he led the way for the three of them. Sarah was mostly quiet, observing and trying not to worry over the kind of trouble she was going to be in once she got back to the castle. Jareth had yet to appear, which either meant he didn't yet know or was simply biding his time. The latter theory made her nervous. Maybe she should just summon him and get it over with…

They stopped while Baldur and Didymus bickered over which direction to take next.

"Right I say! Always right."

Baldur shook his head, glancing down at his compass as he gestured towards the left.

"I've discerned our location Didymus. This way will be faster."

"Your compass must be broken, Captain, for I am sure this is the way!"

"Didymus...I know you're new to squad mentality, but need I pull rank once again?"

"Hey um, guys?" Both Didymus and Baldur fell silent and turned back to Sarah. She was standing a couple of feet away from them, her head turned away and a frown marring her brow. "Do...you hear that?"

---

"A Herdsman? You're positive?" Jareth asked, shuffling anxiously along the branch.

"Not entirely, but the song is familiar"

"Shit." Without thought, Jareth took to the sky again. "The song should not affect her. The goblins perhaps, but not her."

"Then it is simple curiosity that guides her, for that is undoubtedly where she is going." Liana spoke hastily, which had Jareth sneering internally.

"Then kill it. If you can sense that much then kill the thing before she gets close enough."

"Have you not been listening?" Liana interjected. "Your charm has a very potent area of proximity. It's too close to her for me to hone in on. I could attack where I *think* it is, but I risk harming her as well."

"It seems my magic turned out stronger than intended."

"Please. This is not the time to be patting yourself on the back Jareth." Liana scurried along his back, focusing to narrow in on Sarah's location as best as she could. Although she could not see her, she was still within the Labyrinth and that she could feel. Like a cancer. "Hold on...Stop here. I want to try something," she said, and he glided to the peak of an obelisk. Liana fluttered away from him, moved about in circles in front of his face. Suddenly, the ground around them began to tremble, harsh tremors coursing through the Labyrinth in waves one after another. After a moment, the waves crashed and a huge explosion of dust clouded into the air. Jareth's head darted over to it, to an area that was very, very far away. "There- That ring of destruction? That is the perimeter of your spell. Find its center and you'll find her," Liana said, and Jareth's eyes widened. Without hesitation, he leapt into the air and flew as fast as he could towards the smoke. He still could not transport himself to her. He'd have to scour the area the old fashioned way. He caught sight of Liana fluttering near him once more, steadily falling behind as he neared the barrier. "You'd better hurry Jareth. She may be immune to its influence but not its poison. If I feel her life is threatened, I will use every ounce of my power to force her awakening and save her. Do you understand?"

"It won't come to that."

"You better hope so."

---

"Hear what, My Lady?" Baldur asked, both he and Sir Didymus's ears perking up as they listened. They all turned, towards a path leading right, and gradually the lull of a distant tune revealed itself. Sarah narrowed her eyes in its direction. Something seemed...off about it.

Sir Dydimus was the first to take a step towards it.

"My, what a lovely melody," he said, sounding a bit enraptured. Baldur followed him, which in turn inspired Sarah to follow as well.

"What could it be?" Sarah asked, feeling more caution than curiosity as her two knights took one step after another away from the paths they were once so adamantly disputing over.

"I don't know. It is pretty though…" Now it was Baldur's turn to sound beguiled. That was suspicious. Sarah planted her feet and called back their attention.

"Hey. Aren't we supposed to be going the other way? Where are you two going?" she asked. They ignored her and kept on walking. Sarah pursed her lips and, reluctantly, followed them.

The song grew louder as an echo that drifted along the walls. It was low, gritty, like an accordion maybe? She couldn't tell. The rhythm pulsed, like a slow waltz, and steadily drew them nearer. Sarah walked behind Didymus and Baldur, observing them closely as a feeling of worry began to gnaw at her.

"Didymus- I really think we should try a different route," she called out. Maybe she should call for Jareth now...but she didn't. As she trailed her hand along the walls, as the tips of her fingers grazed the moss and the grit and grime, something about it kept her calm. Beyond the worry, she still felt safe. She had...no idea why...

She startled when a sudden tremor moved through the ground, and looked to the sky as an alarming boom, like the sound of a canon, jerked her back to attention. She could see puffs of smoke rising in the distance. What the hell was that? she wondered.

"Nonsense, My Lady. I am positive this is the correct path," Didymus assured.

"Yes...this seems like the right way," Baldur agreed.

"Besides, none shall harm you with me by your side."

They spoke with their typical cadence but Sarah was still frowning. The song was playing even louder now and she recognized the addition of a flute. It sounded...like the source was just up ahead.

They rounded a corner and the baying of sheep caught her off guard.

"What the hell?"

The path ahead opened into a circular courtyard. It was still a ways away, but she could already see the white and fluffy forms of a herd of sheep being rounded in formation. Sarah drew her brow on the image, not understanding what she was seeing. The closer they approached, the more suspicious she became. The animals...there was a fluidity to them, as if they were gliding in sync to the music.

As they entered the courtyard, all three of them stood and glanced around.

The space was littered with a couple dozen, maybe even more, very decrepit-looking sheep. Their faces, Sarah remarked, were goblin-like and not anything she had ever seen in her world. They were dirty, and matted, and not well cared for. They were moving in circles, like they were blind, bumping into one another and whining aimlessly. Both Baldur and Didymus were slightly to her left, which she was glad for, as she turned in that direction and was greeted by the musician that had called them there.

There was a goblin, she presumed, leaning against the wall of the courtyard. It was large, about as large as Baldur, and probably stood to her shoulder when straightened. It was oddly shaped, asymmetric protrusions and limbs rendering it something innately wrong. It wore many layers of tattered rags in blue and red, and donned a black, wide-brimmed hat that was angled to cover most of its face. It had two long, disproportionately large arms that played an accordion, and two other small, feeble looking arms that handled a flute brought close to its mouth. It carried a pack on its back, something large and staggered like that of the junk-lady she'd once met. She took a step away from it instinctively. There was something malevolent about this creature. Something dangerous.

She watched as Baldur and Didymus took an unconscious step towards it and, from their eerie silence, she wondered if they had been spelled.

"Baldur. Didymus. Don't move," she told them, grabbing them both by the shoulder and halting their stride. Thankfully, they did not fight her, something which caught the attention of the performer. The sound of the flute stopped abruptly, and the creature stood straight from the wall.

It had a beak, two beady yellow eyes, and small, pointed teeth that revealed themselves in a cunning smile.

"Ah? And what is this?" it asked. Sarah tensed her jaw. It was taller than she'd realized. Actually, it was damn right imposing. She said nothing right away, simply observing as its larger arms changed the tone of its tune. "Merry travelers I see. Let us count, one, two...three." It stepped towards them, the pack on its back swaying in an unbalanced motion. Sarah gripped the shoulders of her knights a little harder.

"Good day to you...Is this your flock?" she asked, awkwardly. The goblin tilted its head at her, its eyes scouring fiercely over her face. It looked confused, and began to play its accordion with more fervor.

"Flock? Flock, flock, flock...Here, take a rock," it said, and tossed a series of pebbles at their feet. Sarah flinched back, but not Didymus and Baldur. She saw they were oval and smooth, carved with a strange runic swirl. She scowled at them, then jolted when Baldur and Didymus each reached down to pick one up.

"Hey- guys- don't touch those!"

She'd learned enough from Jareth to know better than to touch anything this creature offered her. And, from the way her goblin companions fell for the ploy so readily, her suspicions were confirmed that they were indeed bewitched. She was confused for a moment. She felt totally fine. And then she remembered the ring on her finger. The conduit Jareth had made for her that he assured would keep her safe from magical influences. Damn. Looks like she would be the one protecting them.

She jerked the two of them back before they had the chance to touch the pebbles and, for some reason, they both gasped as they broke from their daze.

"Wh-what? Sarah? I say, what is going on?" Didymus asked. He huffed and began to glance around fervidly, like he had no idea where they were. This worried Sarah, who then looked to Baldur as he shook the delirium from his head.

"What in the...we were bewitched? Sarah are you alright?" he asked, staring up at her just long enough to catch her nod before realizing they were not alone. He turned to face the creature and immediately withdrew his sword.

"Didymus, it seems we've fallen prey to a Herdsman. Quickly. Defend your Queen." The panic that had Didymus huffing and puffing was apparently superficial, for after hearing these words he calmed himself immediately and stood on the defensive. Sarah, with her hands still gripping their shoulders, finally allowed herself to feel true alarm. She wasn't sure how, but she knew she was the one who had broken their enchantment. Was it because of Jareth's charm? Did her physical contact extend its protection to them? That seemed the only explanation she had time to ponder and, not wanting to test that theory, cemented her grip on them.

"Verily," Didymus said, angling his staff at the creature which was now taking a step towards them, its head cocking from one side to the other as it regarded them.

"Oh? You're awake?"

"Who are you? Wh-what are you?" Sarah asked, now pulling her friends back with her in preparation to flee. The fingers on the creature's smaller hands danced about the keys of the flute before tucking the instrument into a pocket.

"Sman, Milady, Herd Sman. And this here is my flock."

Sarah narrowed her eyes. Herd Sman? Herdsman...

"Hm, how terribly clever," she said, unimpressed. The goblin took another careful step towards them and twitched. She heard and felt the shift of her knights' stances in reaction to it.

"Sarah...we must tread carefully. This creature has a nasty way of-"

"For now or for never, or whether the wether, an eye on the weather doth see?"

Sarah blinked, Baldur's warning cut dead as the creature spoke, in a playful sing-song, at them.

"Um, What?"

"Oh! But the pebble you toss be there across! Land on a phony must thee. Go on, take one. Nay, take three. A pebble for each. You'll see."

Sarah's furrowed brow was joined by widened eyes as she tried to figure out what the fuck it was saying to her. It was pointing out into the flock, but its eyes were trained intently on them. She glanced down to the pebbles cast at their feet.

"I have no idea what you're saying."

"Didymus, do you see a way out?" -"Nay Captain, the path has closed. We shall have to cross the courtyard," Baldur and Didymus whispered to one another. All three of them kept their eyes intent on their foe as it geared up for response.

"A riddle my dear, to be perfectly queer. An answer in err to yon maiden fair, as one past my shoulder must be."

"What? Is this Alice in Wonderland?" Sarah asked, crudely, and glanced around looking for a way out. Dydimus was right, the path they had taken was now closed. The only other exit she could find was an open path on the opposite end of the courtyard. They'd have to go through the flock to get there… Great. She huffed, shaking her head in exasperation. "Oh, who am I kidding it might as well be! You won't let us across until I answer your riddle? Is that it? Do you know who I am?"

She was angry, rightly so. The goblin named Sman bowed to her emphatically.

"Long live the Queen they say, Lady of the land, Maiden of the sky and sea. But the rules my dear are perfectly clear, even a riddle for you, times three!"

"How dare thee challenge our Lady! Remove yourself at once or you will suffer the consequences!" Didymus proclaimed, angered, and took an impulsive step forward. Sarah halted him and kept him close to her side. She didn't know what could happen if she broke contact with either of them. Though, as it was panning up, she worried they may be fighting their way out of this before long.

"That's right. I am your Queen. And you will obey."

"My Queen? Aye, a Queen, but not mine. Not yet, don't fret. There is time." She watched as the goblin raised its playing arms higher to reveal a third set. This pair was kept tucked close to its torso and was holding a small box. "Trinkets and trankets and fistfulls and banquets. A fleece of pure gold, you'll be."

"I have no idea what you are even saying," she said, nervously.

"Sarah...perhaps we should try to play the game. It will let us leave peacefully if we win," Baldur advised. Sarah bit her cheek, wondering if she could take that risk.

"Why do you want us to take these rocks so badly?" she asked, doing nothing more than buying some time as she tried to think her way out of this.

"They're its token," Baldur mumbled. Sarah glanced down to him quickly.

"What?"

"Accepting them binds us to the game."

"Well binding ourselves does not sound like something we should be doing," she replied.

The Herdsman looked disappointed in them and began to extend the arms which were holding the box.

"But...the pebble thy toss, t'is guided by cost. Was that not how you happened upon me? The price is fair for those who dare take this gift of music and flee."

"What? Speak English please." She waited for it to respond but it only stared at her, its peculiar beak somehow managing to smile again. Sarah narrowed her eyes. "We have to pay for hearing your music? And the price is this game? Oy vey..."

"The clearer the flock the harder the rock. Beware of the goat named Scape amongst thee."

Sarah took in a deep breath, and groaned. *Sigh* Alright, brain. Time to fire up.

A goat among the sheep? No...a 'scape'goat -a loophole out of the riddle. The clearer the flock? She peered around and, somehow, it looked like there were even more sheep than before. Hm...It's only gotten more dense...confusing...my mind? The clearer the flock, the clearer my mind...the harder the rock...my...resolve? The clearer my mind, the harder my resolve...focus and I should be able to figure a way out...?

For now or for never, or whether the weather...no, no, it's...whether the wether? What the fuck is a wether? An eye on the weather doth see...eye on the weather? No...eye of the weather...eye of the storm. Do the sheep see the eye of the storm? But the flock is my mind...okay...do I see the real danger here?

Landed on a phony...what does he mean by phony? Sarah turned away and stared out over the courtyard, wondering how these stupid stones fit into the mix. As the sheep moved, she realized they were tagged, painted with strange symbols on their flanks. And she realized…

They matched the marks of the stones.

But what did that mean? The pebble thy toss… Was she supposed to throw a stone? Was that not how you happened upon me? They came because of the music. The sheep, Sir Dydimus and Baldur, responded to the music. There was a correlation between the stones, the music and the sheep, but she had no idea what.

Damn. This riddle was turning out to be a lot more difficult that the last she'd had to deal with.

An answer in err to yon maiden fair, as one past my shoulder must be...He's...he's saying that if I answer wrong I'll...A fleece of pure gold, you'll be.

I'll become one of his sheep?

But that was wrong. That was wrong because she did not yet pick up a stone. She was not playing its game. And, as she acknowledged the true danger here, determined that none of them would be playing at all.

"You're trying to threaten me, yes? Alright, how about you riddle me this instead," Sarah said, calling up every bit of literary prowess she could muster. "A sheep in dismay does the wolf yet play, in tethers and thrash and tool-" She winced as she spoke, hoping she was making sense, or maybe not. Maybe it would be better to stump the riddler. "A fleece of gold? It protects this soul, with feathers and magic, you fool. So the phony should skip his merry quips. A deal for you, these rams and the yew, best be gone and take heed." Okay, so it wasn't so much of a riddle as it was an even more aggressive threat, but by the way the goblin flinched back it seemed her meaning had been conveyed. She felt a little proud of herself, until his look of surprise turned to that of offense, this is.

"Is that an answer I hear, as you take up the spear? Surely you jest, this was but a test. Come, take a stone and see."

Sarah drew back. It wasn't backing down. Was not the least bit intimidated by her status. What the hell? Was there a reason it wasn't respecting her authority? If anything, she'd say it was targeting her because of it. She renewed her grip on her companions and stood a little closer to them. "Guys...stay close to me," she whispered.

"No," she stated, loudly, looking the creature square in the eye. "I refuse."

She couldn't answer wrong if she didn't answer at all, right? Was that the loophole? She had no idea, not that it mattered. The goblin regarded her curiously, as if just now noticing something was off about her.

"No?" it repeated, tilting its head sharply as the arms which had been idly holding the box now moved and turned it around. She saw a crank on one side. Like a jack-in-the-box. Without taking its eyes from her, it began to turn the handle, slowly, and a new melody layered over the treble of the accordion. Sarah clenched her jaw. It looked more serious all of the sudden. And focused, entirely, on her.

The jingle, broken and raspy, reminded her of a creepy carnival. Her eyes narrowed on the box, wondering what the hell was supposed to be happening.

"Take a pebble. You shan't miss. T'is only a game among friends. I insist."

Sarah took a step back, but this time found that Baldur and Didymus would not budge. She looked down to them and saw their posture had become aggressive.

"I fear we may be forced to fight, My Lady. Are you prepared?" Baldur spoke. He peered up at her discreetly and she nodded. "Stay behind us…"

She looked back to The Herdsman and glared.

"I said no," Sarah reaffirmed. The Herdsman looked...perplexed. It blinked its eyes repeatedly and sneered.

"Can you not hear? Listen carefully, my dear. Curious, curious…" its voice trailed off as a shadow rose overtop it and darkened a path on the ground between them. Sarah's eyes darted up and realized, with alarm, that something was now erecting from the crate nestled on top of the creature's back. It was tall, weirdly mechanical, but also fleshy and somehow living. The appendage stretched, and then curled back into an S. And she saw at its end, aiming directly at her, the deadly point of a stinger. What. The. Fuck. "Perhaps a tune more severe for our Queen and her peers..."

"It's going to attack. Sarah, get down!" Baldur commanded and Sarah obeyed, instinctively dropping to the ground behind them as the scorpion-like appendage struck. She fisted her hands into the back of Baldur and Didymus's coats, hating herself, in that split second, for using them as shields.

She shrieked. Not out of pain, or fear, but in surprise. There was a sudden crash. A loud, electric sound that cut the air the moment the stinger should have hit them. She opened her eyes and saw a violent array of light and static and magic, a barrier, that prevented the attack from reaching them.

"What the-"

"His Majesty's wards. They must be protecting you," Didymus said, tightening his grip on his staff as they are marveled at the spectacle for just a single second.

The sound and the sight receded, just as a painful howl escaped The Herdsman. Its stinger retracted, twitching sporadically as it adjusted. The creature growled, hunkering down slightly as if the field had crippled it. Sarah saw blood dripping from lacerations that now wounded it, and her jaw dropped at the physical realization of just how amazing Jareth's magic actually was.

"Come on. We need to get out of here-"

---

Jareth flew faster than he ever thought possible, cursing himself for making the radius of his spell so large. He was nearing the center now. He was almost there.

And then he felt his defensive wards trigger.

A flash of fear Jareth had never before felt shot violently though him but he shook it away. He needed to stay calm. It was only once. It was well intact. It was fine. She was fine. She was safe.

She had yet to call out to him.

Goddamn it Sarah, don't be a fucking idiot…

---

"Come on. We need to get out of here-"

"Captain, take thy Lady to safety. I shall distract it from your escape," Didymus said, jerking himself from Sarah's hold. Baldur, in immediate agreement, grabbed onto Sarah's arm and pulled her away. In a panic, Sarah reached out for Didymus instinctively.

"What? No! Didymus, you need to stay by me!" she called out, but it was too late. With a growl, Didymus reared back and thrust his staff at the creature.

"You dare to attack our Queen! Prepare to meet thy maker, foul beast!" he shouted, and charged.

"Didymus!"

"Sarah come! We must get you to safety-"

"No, you don't understand. Jareth's wards will protect all of us. If he-"

Sarah's eyes widened. Her voice, her plea, fell dead in her throat. She watched as Sir Didymus ran, without fear, without hesitation to lay his life on the line for hers; watched helplessly, and with horror, as the wounded tail of the Herdsman coiled and then struck, mercilessly, at the center of his chest.

"D-Didymus?" She was in shock and stood, petrified, against the urgency of Baldur's grip on her arm, as she watched Didymus's body fall limply to the ground. The world around her ceased to be, and all she saw was the tragedy before her. She couldn't breathe. Couldn't blink. Could do nothing-

The Herdsman coiled back a third time and turned its attention back to her, striking without hesitation as she stood, dumbly, like all the other sheep.

The deafening sound of Jareth's wards ripping the air in destructive vehemence around her thrust her back to reality and she fell to the ground in stupefaction. Wha-what the hell was she doing? Why wasn't she moving? Why wasn't she calling for Jareth?

Jareth?

The Herdsman screamed in pain yet again, but this was not enough to deter it. If anything, such injury only committed itself to her. The tail of the stinger now broke in several places and contorted but still functioned, and it bled profusely over the possibly lifeless heap of Sir Didymus. It poised to strike at her again, determined to break through her shield. Sarah, taking Baldur fiercely by the arms and dragging him with her as she scuttled back, cried out just before impact-

"Jareth!"

All sound retreated. And the air, as it was forcefully pulled from her lungs, fell into a vacuum as time itself seemed to balance on a razor's edge. A split second. That's all it was. Before reality barreled and returned, in cacophony, as everything around her was hopelessly obliterated.

She saw the blackened form of her savior pierce the ground before her like a meteor's strike, the shockwave from his impact sending the sheep and wayward rubble crashing violently into the walls, which broke their bodies in near-instantaneous death as they screamed guttural pleas of agony.

He stood with his back to her, but her eyes, wide and unblinking, saw all as he stepped forward and, with nothing more than a curled fist, snapped the stinger from the Herdsman's body, not once, not twice, but over and over as the creature doubled over and screamed. Its body fell into pieces, but before it could take its dying breath, Jareth's arm raised and, with the force of his magic, sent the wretched thing spirling backward through the wall.

And then it was silent. And then it was dead. Just like that. In just one, single second. Everything was dead.

Reality caught up to her and had her fighting to her feet faster than she could blink. She ran over to Didymus, threw herself at his lifeless body, and sobbed. He was on his stomach, so she rolled him over and inspected the wound on his chest. It bled, but not much and, to her immediate relief, she saw that he was still breathing. He was alive. Her heart was beating too fast for her to manage. Adrenaline and fear dominated her every action. As her eyes scoured the wound, she saw a number of barbs broken off into the flesh. It was sheer instinct that she pull them out-

"Sarah?! Don't touch that!"

Everything had happened within the span of a heartbeat. Jareth had felt his wards trigger, over and over, until finally, as his rage seethed, she called to him. He was there. Instantly. He was by her side and she was alive. She was unharmed. Blinded with rage, with bloodlust, with fear, and panic, he reacted the only way he knew how. And-

He was too overwhelmed to notice she had run to the goblin's side. It was too late for him to stop her as the voice of Baldur called out behind them. He turned around. Turned towards her. And it felt as if his very soul departed him as he strangled himself on a breath. His eyes widened, time slowing over just one millisecond, as he watched her withdraw a barb and then wince as she pricked her finger upon it.

"Tch- Ow that hurt," Sarah said, dropping the barb and then shook her hand. She was sitting back on her knees, and then suddenly swayed with a strange sense of vertigo. "Wha...what's happening…" She fell back on her butt, left pitifully unaware as Jareth suddenly engulfed her with his arms and lifted her to his chest. "J-Jareth?"

"Shut up."

Before she could blink, they were gone. They were gone and she panicked and, against her better judgement, fought her way out of Jareth's hold.

"What? Where are- what about Sir Didymus! We have to help him!" she shouted, her judgement thoroughly compromised by fear, and sorrow, and panic. Jareth growled and gripped her painfully, causing her to cry out as he held her, like a vice, against his torso. He was carrying her, walking briskly. And, as she struggled, she realized they were back in the castle.

"Not another word out of your mouth."

"But- Didymus!"

"Silence!" The tenor of Jareth's voice resounded as a deep baritone Sarah had never heard before. It silenced her, dreadfully, and she gazed up at him as she trembled in response to it.

She flinched when he suddenly kicked open a door. The door to her bathroom. Why the hell was it so hard for her to orient her surroundings? He brought her to the center of the room, dropped to his knees, and pushed her on the floor.

"H-hey-" she gasped, confusion and distress steadily rising in her voice. She had no idea what was happening. Too much was happening. All she could think about was whether or not Sir Didymus was alive and Jareth -she'd never seen Jareth so malignantly angry.

"Turn around," he ordered, his voice so low and cold. It made her shiver and, when she hesitated, he reached out and pushed her by the back of the shoulder. She thrust her hands against the cool stone of the floor to catch herself, and startled when Jareth's hands were suddenly pulling at the back neck-line of her dress and ripped it, effortlessly, down the center. "Do not move."

Against his command, that was exactly what Sarah did. She could not help it. Her survival instincts were getting the better of her, controlling her when she knew, she really did know, to obey him. She shifted to look back at him and caught the air of bitter admonishment in his stare before he reached out, grabbed her by the back of the head, and slammed her face back to the floor.

Sarah gasped again, whining, and shifted her legs uncomfortably as she struggled to regain her bearings. What the fuck was he doing? What was even happening right now? He reached forward and grabbed her wrists, stretching them out in front of her, and cemented them to the floor with magic. Sarah panted, her heart beating wildly, and struggled to see the tips of her fingers as they clawed at the tile before her. W-what?

In a quick, simultaneous movement, Jareth pulled her legs out from under her and straddled them, keeping her in place as he tore the dress further from her. He pushed away her hair and, after a split second of inspection said, "Brace yourself. This is going to hurt."

Sarah had enough time to hear the words but not register them before a feeling of excruciating pain tore into her. She screamed. Screamed. And thrashed her body in what little space she could. She heard Jareth growl impatiently and he lowered to brace the back of her neck with one of his forearms. Tears poured from her eyes, so thick and hot she could no longer see. The pain -at the center of her spine- it felt like he was cutting her with a hot knife. She'd never felt anything like it before. And she was too sensitized to even begin bracing herself for it.

Jareth's jaw tensed as he focused on the task at hand. Sarah was screaming hysterically, writhing beneath him, shedding tears of agony and, with all probability, recoiling in fear of him. He ignored it. He had to. She would die otherwise.

When the incision was made, he cast away the knife he'd conjured and tore off his glove with his teeth. He had to act quickly. She was a human. He had no idea how much time they had.

Without consideration, he dug two of his fingers into the wound, spreading the skin, and causing her to wail even more wretchedly. He winced at the sound of it, at the pain, and resentment, and the guilt he forced himself not to acknowledge. The veins were already to her shoulder. 30 seconds was all it took. Fear...no, terror. Terror seized him the likes of which he did not know existed and left him mindless. Focused. Numb.

He pulsed his magic into her and pulled it back, slowly, carefully, and brought out the venom along with it.

He withdrew his hand and watched, unblinking, as the tether of his magic bound the toxin to him and away from her body. Two droplets. That's all it was. All it took. All that was needed to kill her ten times over. He disintegrated it from his sight and looked back at her. She was shaking. Her body moved in spams as it tried to bear the pain of what he had done to her. Blood seeped from the wound on her back and trailed over her sides. His arm still held her in place, and he could see the sharp glisten of tears that pooled in her eyes. He nearly frowned. Nearly gave into the emotions he could not yet afford himself to feel.

He reared back from her, instead bringing his eyes to scan over her body. The veins had retracted. That was good…

What luck- he heard Liana's voice whisper in the back of his mind. Twelve more seconds and my hand would have been forced…

Jareth scowled, shaking his head as if that would rid him of her voice. His heart, which had been pounding, took no reprieve in those words and had no intention of settling.

Sarah was crying, the sound coming as pathetic whimpers caught between broken breaths. She pulled back her arms and was surprised by the fact that she now could. She started to lean up on her hands but struggled, her body nearly buckling from the effort. Jareth moved off of her, though she could feel him kneeling over her ankles.

"J-Jareth? W-wha-"

A witless sob escaped her as she suddenly felt herself falling back. Jareth had grabbed the hem of her torn bodice and was now pulling it roughly down her.

"S-s-stop. What are y-you-"

"I told you to stop talking," he said, in the same heartless tone as before. She gritted her teeth and fought back another sob. She was so scared. So scared and confused. She didn't even fight him as he removed the remainder of her dress from her body, nor when he lifted her again and carried her to the tub.

She did not question the fact that it was filled, nor that it was now raised from the floor and not her tub at all.

He set her within and moved to kneel at the end of it behind her. He unbuttoned his coat, unclasped his cloak, tossed both aside along with his remaining glove as he hastily rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. His eyes were scouring her back, intense and completely ignorant of the way she trembled from him in fright.

Sarah curled forward in the tub and hugged her knees, bearing her gritted teeth as she struggled to cease crying. The water was warm. It helped soothe her, if only marginally. Her entire body quaked. It hurt so bad. All of the sudden, everything hurt so bad. She was so confused. So...so….

She physically recoiled at the feeling of Jareth's hand pulling back her hair and draping it over one shoulder. The water splashed, displacing the silence between them, but he ignored it. Next she felt him pressing a cloth to her back. Felt it moving down over her without delicacy. He was washing her. What?

Jareth cleansed the streams of blood from her back in the effort to get a clear look at her. It'd only been a few seconds, but the lethal veins that had been nearing her heart from the prick at her finger were now almost completely receded. As the seconds became minutes, as the blue faded to white, he finally let himself breathe. Even though Liana had told him as much, his anxiety plainly prevented him from believing her. He needed to see it with his own eyes. He needed to know she was safe.

A fresh trickle of blood escaped the wound on her spine, aided by the dampened surface of her skin, as it streamed quickly down to the water below. Sarah flinched again, fighting off the sting and a shudder, and this time he allowed himself to notice it. His jaw clenched so tightly it made his ears flex and he dropped the cloth in order to reach out and touch her.

He didn't realize how tender it would be, and actually paused when she shrieked and lurched away from him. Sarah gasped. Sobbed. Did everything in her power not to turn around and show him her weak and demeaned expression.

Without warning, without breaking stride, he gripped her by the back of the neck and held her taught as he pressed his free hand into the wound.

She cried out again, the sound harrowing, and heartbreaking, and entirely his fault. He looked away and grimaced. There was nothing else he could do. Quickly, the wound closed, sizzling audibly as the flesh mended. To Sarah it felt warm. A warming sensation that was soon to replace the pain. She settled down, relaxed her posture in his grasp, and panted heavily with strain. Once the mark was removed he released her, leaning back only slightly as she slumped forward in the tub.

"J-Jareth I- I don't unders-s-stand-"

He kept warning her to be quiet but she couldn't. Even as expressing the words from her mouth became a physical pain, she couldn't stop herself. She needed him to say something. To explain what was happening. To assure her that he wasn't as angry as he seemed-

"Enough."

His tone was level. Was dead weight in the air. Such coldness, such enmity towards her, frightened her like nothing else. Her hands gripped her knees, her fingers cutting into her skin with restlessness, before jolting as a cascade of water was poured over her head. She shivered, shying away from his touch as he pulled her matted hair away from her. She felt his fingers combing through it, and that miniscule gesture of tenderness was enough to bring her to a moment of silence.

She let him have his way, sitting, and shaking, idly as he washed her hair. The trickle of the water as he cupped it and let it fall down her body was the only sound to be heard for a long time. When he was done with her hair, he went back to her torso, retrieving one arm and then the other, to lightly scrub it clean with the cloth.

Her shaking had finally settled. Her heartbeat was not so frantic. With that said, confounded tears still brimmed her eyes and she bit her lip as hard as she could not to whimper.

"Why...why are you bathing me?" she asked, daring to break the silence. She even started to glance back but, before the gesture could be completed, his hand at her should seemed to passive-aggressively shove her forward before it brushed the cloth down her side.

"Because you're filthy," he said, and that was all. His words cut her as hard as the knife, and had her huddling into herself so she might somehow avoid the mark of disdain that made those words seem so callous. A silent shiver ran through her, and she adjusted her grip on her legs as she mustered up what little confidence she had left.

"I'm sorry," she said, sharply, as if he might strike her for saying such a thing. She sensed him pull away from her but, fearful he was about to reject her again, continued on in a flurry. "I know you don't want me to talk but-I'm sorry I- I didn't- I didn't mean to go into the Labyrinth. I didn't. I'm sorry. It just happened. I don't know how. And then- and then everything just- Please Jareth. Please don't be angry. I'm sorry. Please just-"

"Sarah…"

"I know it was stupid. I know. I should have called for you but I- I don't know. I was afraid. I-I thought I could handle it. And then-then-that thing- I don't understand. I don't understand but you're scaring me. Please. Please just don't be so mad…" She started crying again, her voice rising high and breaking between sentences. A terrible shiver vibrated her shoulders but it was not something she had any hope to control. Jareth was quiet behind her, eerily quiet. She settled down and sniffled ungracefully as she waited for him to react.

"You think...I'm angry?" he asked, softly. So softly she questioned it was he who spoke at all. She wanted to turn around to face him, but instead only gasped when arms suddenly reached into the water beneath her. She fumbled, panicked, as he lifted her up and embraced her wet, naked body close against his chest. He took a step back, hit the doors of a cabinet, and fell with her to the floor, cradling her in his arms as he muttered, "I'm not angry. I'm fucking terrified."

Sarah stared up at his shoulder, wide-eyed and speechless. His embrace kept her curled into a ball with her knees pressed up to her throat. She felt his hands, his strong, loving hands, constrict around her and she sobbed at the recognition of the tenderness she feared she had lost from him. His head angled and he pressed the side of his face against the top of her head and the position cemented. He did not move. Barely even breathed. His body was a vice encompassing her and she'd never, ever, felt such security.

The excess water from her body left him drenched, but he did not care. He cared for nothing but her, for the validation of her pulse and the warmth in her skin. She shook, crying silently, and he closed his eyes to scowl. He hugged her tighter, passed unto her everything that words would fail. Her ear was pressed to his chest and she heard, no felt, it was beating even more brutally than her own.

"Jareth…" she managed to say, raising a hand to cling to his shirt in a plea. Her feet fumbled awkwardly, her body unable to expel its energy as Jareth kept her firmly in place. She felt his chest rise on a breath -on a staggered, struggling breath.

"You almost died just now," he said, disbelief sewn into the words. Sarah furrowed her brow, confused and yet accepting them immediately. His voice was uneven, suddenly vulnerable and broken, and filled with just as much fear as hers.

"I-I'm sorry," was all she could say. She was too worked up. Too hysteric. It was impossible to think nor calm down, and maybe that was exactly how Jareth was feeling too. She turned her head and nuzzled her nose into his chest. He smelled like home. She never wanted to be anywhere else.

"Do you have any idea what would befall this world if anything happened to you?" he asked, his voice becoming a bit impassioned. "It would end. It would end because you would be gone and I would have no reason to bother living. There would be no reason for any of this to exist."

"Jareth, I didn't-" Her breath hitched when his arms constricted too tightly and he buried his face in her hair.

"Don't you dare threaten me in such a way. Don't you dare leave me," he cut her off, the words hot and muffled within the tangles of her hair. Sarah felt her lip quiver, the conviction she felt in his voice renewing the urge to cry all over again.

"I won't- I'm sorry- I didn't mean- I didn't mean for this to happen…" She shook her head and a sea of tumult, of inexplicable origins, overtook her. Her words fell short and she cried. She cried pitifully into his chest. She felt him take a sharp breath and his arms rose to engulf her head and shoulders. He angled his head down and pressed his mouth to the crown of her head.

"I know...I know."

He pet her head in a calming motion, remaining silent -with eyes still blazing- as she gradually gentled. Eventually, she fell lax in his hold and he shifted her higher in his lap.

"...I don't understand. What happened?"

Her body, exposed to the air of the room, chilled and a shiver shot up her legs. Seeing this, Jareth reached for a nearby towel and draped it over her.

"You were poisoned," he stated, his tone level but still bridled with tension. Sarah closed her eyes and savored his warmth. "I had to act as quickly as possible...to extract it." She thought she heard him wince at the end, and she frowned.

"I see...It was just a pinprick. I didn't realize…"

"That's all it would have taken. It spreads quickly, collecting in the spine before dispersing throughout the body," he explained, and she blinked repeatedly as she forced it all to make sense.

"That's why...you cut me there," she mumbled, as her eyes landed on the bloodied blade cast on the floor several feet away from them. He...cut me...

"Yes."

"But...your wards. They protected me. Against the song. Against those attacks. How…"

"I can hardly prevent you from committing acts of your own will," he interjected. Sarah shut her mouth. His earlier hostility was returning. "You reached for the barb. You punctured yourself with it. Poison and venom are not a malevolent force that I can actively shield you against. I've told you those are the only things that magic has no effect on. It is how most of my people die. Why...why would do something so stupid?"

"I didn't do it on purpose!" she said, wanting to defend herself so badly while knowing she could not. But the judgment in his voice, the disappointment...she just wanted it gone. "I just...I saw Didymus laying there and that thing was sticking out of his wounds and...I don't know. It was just reflexive I guess…" She turned in his arms so she was facing him, though remained in the same fetaled shape. "Is Didymus going to die?"

It was silent for a moment, Sarah listening intently as the pulse of Jareth's heart gradually slowed.

"...No," he finally said, and hers quickened. "He will live." She went to lean up but an arm around her shoulders pushed her back to his chest. For whatever reason, he didn't want her to look at him. She imagined his expression instead, and clung to him tighter. "Goblins are innately robust creatures. It takes a significant amount of effort to kill one. That wretch's toxin was designed for prey native to this world. It's a paralytic, not meant to be fatal. But you are a human. One born in the world above. You would not have lasted a full minute had I not been there."

Sarah took a moment to digest his words. She was still reeling, something -something- propelling her mind a mile a minute. She felt overwhelmed. She just couldn't calm herself.

"Am I...going to be okay?" she asked, timidly. Her voice was so frail, so afraid. Jareth took a deep breath and combed his hand through her hair.

"You will live as well," he said, though she sensed there was more to come. "But…"

"But?" She pulled away and this time he let her. She looked up into his eyes, for the first time since that morning, and saw they had become red and glassy. Sarah blinked at him, and realized this was the first time she'd ever seen Jareth come anywhere even remotely close to forming tears. The look was searing, raw, and she humbled herself under it.

"Forgive me," he said, and she saw the muscle in his jaw flex as a hand rose to gently cup her face. "You're going to suffer. Unbearably."

"W-what?" Sarah recoiled just as a strange tingling sensation moved throughout her body. She contorted in his lap, unable to stop herself, and a new feeling of alarm accompanied it. She'd looked away from him, and he used the opportunity to pull her back into his embrace. "What's happening to me?" she asked, unevenly. She felt the pressure of Jareth's hand against the side of her head urging her to still.

"Try to relax. Fighting it will only make it worse." The hand holding her back caressed up and down, trying his best to soothe her as another strange spasm took hold.

"What is this? Why can't I stop myself?" she asked. It was a shiver, a vibration that grew in volume with each undulation.

"I told you, the venom you were infected with is paralytic. A very aggressive nerve toxin. I was able to remove it before it could kill you, but its preliminary effects...are not something that even I can save you from."

Sarah's heart dropped to the pit of her stomach. What? What did that mean?

"What's going to happen to me?" she asked. Her breathing started to escalate again, immune to Jareth's tender ministrations. She could feel another tremor coming on. It started in her toes. And this time, it stung.

"It causes acute muscle spasms...like a seizure. Only...they grow in rapidity and cause the host an unfathomable amount of pain. The body then falls...into a state of suspended shock," he explained, as evenly as he could manage. Imagining the level of pain Sarah was about to experience had even his hardened constitution twisting uncomfortably. In reaction to his words, he felt the next wave of her tremor amplify with her fear of it. Feeling his resolve falter for just a moment, he clung to her a little harder.

"And that's-that's what's happening now? How long will it last?" she asked, trying to keep her voice strong as she worked through the uncomfortable twinge. It was like needles. Like a numb limb combing back to life. Only it was her body. Her entire body.

"I don't know. A few hours, a day perhaps."

"A day?" Her voice broke with despair and he shifted his hold on the back of her head, rocking her slightly as he whispered into her hair.

"Shh…" His voice was so sweet. So very unlike him. She wanted to cherish this moment but the circumstances made it bitter.

"Jareth I- I'm scared. It hurts." She whimpered with tightly closed eyes as her hands clawed into his shirt. Her toes were curling, shifting with discomfort as they tried to evade a sensation that had no intention of letting her go. Her body began to ache. To thrum. She felt cold and hot all at once.

"I know. I know it does," he spoke to her, calmly, tenderly, gently swaying to distract her from the plight of her failing limbs. "I will be here the entire time. I won't let you won't suffer alone," he assured, lowering an arm to brace her knees as a more powerful tremor threatened to flail them away from herself against her will. She felt like a child. Like a helpless child being coddled in such strong arms. She couldn't stand it. Couldn't stand how much she needed him.

"I-I'm so sorry. I should have called for you. I don't know why I didn't call for you-"

"Shush now...It no longer matters," he said, appeasingly, and brushed away wet tendrils of hair that had stuck to her face. She would no longer bring her gaze to him, like she was ashamed for being so weak. He sighed through his nose as he regarded her. She was so, so precious. "Stop crying. I've got you." And he kissed her temple as the first truly aggressive spasm wretched her body. She murmured in discomfort, but made no other sound. They sat silently for a moment, clinging to one another as tremor after tremor unbridled the emotions between them.

She'd never felt so close to him. Never felt so loved. His heartbeat had slowed, but the tension in his body was proof enough that he was feeling pain too. She wanted to kiss him, but she couldn't. She couldn't bear herself to move.

"Jareth?" she spoke, airily, like the breath had left her lungs too quickly. Jareth angled his head downward in acknowledgement. She clenched her eyes even tighter, wincing through the words as she said them. "...will you...would you sing to me?"

He almost pulled away. Almost loosened his grip on her in surprise.

"What?"

"I know I shouldn't ask, but...if you put me to sleep and enhanced it with a song...would I be able to sleep through the pain? Would the spell be strong enough?" Having sensed hesitation in his response, she instead tried to use reason. She knew how personal her request was. Knew, now, that it wasn't something she could simply ask for. But, he'd been teaching her about magic. Maybe that was enough of an excuse.

Jareth's brow furrowed as he stared down at the top of her head. He was not expecting that. It'd caught him off guard. No one had ever asked him to sing before. He felt suddenly nervous, like an adolescent, and his pulse quickened in response. In truth, he was already planning on putting her to sleep. It was merely his own anxiety that had distracted him from yet doing so. And he did not need a song to make the slumber strong enough. A ghost of a grin graced his lips, as it seemed now their very thoughts were in sync. But she'd spoken first. He need not ruin this moment. He would give her anything.

"You trust me to use that level of magic on you?" he asked, a wayward sense of skepticism tailing those words. He remembered a time she would not rely on him for anything. Would not subject herself to any situation that might grant him power over her. He was still vain enough to enjoy this moment. To feed his pride in her beseech of him.

"Yes...please. I want to hear it. I want to hear the song you sang while we danced."

He could feel her lips against his clavicle as she spoke, and it was the sweetest caress he'd ever known. Did she have any idea how she affected him? Any idea how much this meant to him? He felt her shudder again and he chided himself for being so self-centered. She was still in pain.

"Close your eyes," he said, and tilted her back with him as he reclined against the cabinet door. She did as he said, and tried her very best to breathe evenly so she could focus on him. He was quiet for a moment, or perhaps it was her anticipation that stretched the time. She felt his chest rise on an inhale, and then he sang-

"...There's such a sad love...deep in your eyes. A kind of pale jewel, opened and closed within your eyes...I'll place the sky within your eyes…" His voice was so soft. So subdued. It was different from before, more intimate. She found herself smiling weakly as she relaxed against him. It was better than she remembered. Without embellishment. Without ploy. Real. He really was...the most beautiful thing.

"There's such a fooled heart, beating so fast...in search of new dreams. A love that will last within your heart...I'll place the moon...within your heart." He sang leisurely, not quite in time, and glanced down at her as her body began to untense and fall into him. His spell was taking effect. Her breathing had shallowed. Her eyes, he noticed, were still closed but no longer wrenched with pain. The hand holding her head inched upward and played with her hair as he smiled at the words to come. Hm, how fitting. "As the pain sweeps through, makes no sense for you...Every thrill is gone. Wasn't too much fun at all…" He paused, repeatedly, as he spoke. He was too enamored, too focused on her features as the strain of it all faded and rendered her something peaceful and fair. He hesitated and let the moment draw out. She was hovering on the edge, just barely awake. She could hear him but he now sounded so far away. She struggled to come back, to be near him, and felt the sway of an ocean tide as he rocked her further to sleep. He watched her as her consciousness drifted, as he cast her far away into a breathless, limitless night. "...but I'll be there for you…as the world falls down…"

Her body was limp in his arms. Her eyes, fluttering with awareness, did so one final time as the words echoed, as they kissed her, as they enveloped her in warmth and tranquility, and then darkness. Pure, silent, darkness.

Jareth braced her neck and held her taut as a brutal wave of seizure shook her body violently.

---

The door opened. He stood with his head bowed on its threshold. A place he loathed himself to be. His clenched fist tightened and, before he could think too deeply, he forced himself to step inside.

Jareth's footsteps echoed. Layered. Filled the void that always ached for substance. That ached to exist. He pressed on. He had no path. The void would bring him to her.

A light shone from a ways ahead, a slight flicker amidst the velvet sea. He looked up and caught sight of it. That was unusual. Normally he had to wake her when venturing here.

He walked towards the source of the light silently. It grew brighter, larger, and danced as a ball of fire atop the pillar. He stood before it, before the crumpled heap of Liana who writhed beneath it.

Jareth's brow drew tightly and he frowned. It was dead quiet. Her flames were dead quiet.

"Are you alright?" he asked. Liana glanced up at him, her expression unreadable as she shook in forcible tremors. He'd never seen her like this. Never seen her as something less than.

Liana shifted in her spot on the floor, the many insect wings that composed the skirt of her dress breaking off and crumbling from the movement.

"I am," she said, and nothing more. Her voice was strained, held back, and he wondered what remained of her sentence.

"Are you compromised?" he asked, flatly, though both knew he was worried. Liana cracked a disingenuous smirk and clawed her arms around herself. The flames atop the pillar sparked, nearly earning his attention just before she responded.

"No...fret not." she said, biting through the words. She shuddered again and looked to the side. "I am merely feeling things."

Jareth's frown deepened. He knew what she meant.

"Can you not guard yourself?"

Liana glanced up at that. She did not mean to glare, though that was the look her physical state had rendered on her.

"Guard myself? I am guarding her," she said, catching him off guard. She saw his fists clench at his sides. Saw the glimmer of something...concealed tightly in his hand.

"What?"

"Her agony. I am bearing it for her as much as possible." She shifted again, and for a moment he thought she meant to stand to her feet. But she didn't. Perhaps she couldn't. Instead she only staggered and resigned to remain on the floor. She was breathing heavily, suffering in a manner that was much too real. He did not think she could suffer. That she would choose to for the sake of her master.

"Is her torment really so bad?" he asked, his voice hollow. He knew the answer. So Liana had been channeling Sarah's pain this entire time? And even still, Sarah's body writhed, contorted and seized, and she continued to whimper while under the compulsion of his sleep spell. It seemed even Liana, in all her might, could only take so much of that pain away. How sobering.

"It is...excruciating," Liana said, anger lining her words. She blinked slowly and composed herself -as best she could from her demeaning position on the floor anyway.

There was a break in the conversation. Jareth did not respond and Liana was too focused on herself to bother with him. He lifted his gaze from her, to the saucer atop the pillar and the strange energy that was forming around it. The ball of light -there was something at its center. A flower bud. Pulsing.

"What is that?" he asked. Liana peered up and then away from it.

"None of your concern," she said, curtly. Jareth scowled. Something was telling him to press the issue, but now was not the time… "What do you even want, Jareth? Should you not be tending to her?" She was irritated and clearly displeased he would intrude upon her in such an undignified state. He watched the bloom pulse for a few more seconds before responding.

"I came...to give you something," he said, distractedly. Liana trained her eyes on him. He was far too interested in her saucer. She bit her cheek in annoyance and shifted on the floor loudly -the sound redirecting his attention back to her.

"What could you possibly have for me now of all times?" she asked. Jareth glanced down, to his hand as it raised between them. He was holding a crystal. Something she failed to inspect too closely.

"First...I need you to give me something," he said, his voice lowered and vacant -something she did not pick up on right away. She hunched her shoulders as she shifted upright against her pillar.

"You dare ask anything of me? As I sit here writhing on behalf of my master? Your lover? The lover you nearly condemned to death because of your idiotic charm!" she asked, firm aggravation rising in her voice. There was a tremble that shook the room at the end of her sentence, though it seemed no more than a reflection of the one now coursing through her.

"Yes...That is precisely what I've called on you for."

"Explain yourself."

Jareth paused again, and this time she registered deep contention on his brow. He knelt down to be level with her, and gripped the crystal tightly, for just a moment, as he peered into it. Her eyes widened exponentially at what she saw in it.

"Jareth, is that-"

"Your charm."

Jareth's gaze fell absently over the crystal, at the gold necklace that was now encased and barred within it. Liana's gaze contrasted him starkly, sheer alarm widening her eyes as she recoiled from it.

And then she leaned forward with intrigue.

"How...how have you brought it here? It is still active. I can feel it," she said, for perhaps the very first time, not understanding the magic at work.

Jareth's hand retreated slightly and he averted his gaze.

"It's still functional, yes. However I...am able to contain it. ...I merely need a part of you...to dissolve it."

Liana stared wordlessly for a long moment. Of all the things she'd hoped or expected of him, this was not one. His suspicion of her was too strong. His desire to protect Sarah was just as passionate as her own. She blinked and inhaled deeply. She'd been so focused on guarding Sarah she hadn't noticed this shift in him. Hadn't noticed the air of reconciliation that settled his mind.

"You would do that?" she asked, tentatively. A part of her did not believe him. Did not believe she hadn't been able to anticipate this moment. His heart was so peaceful. It was upheaved and jarred, and yet...peaceful. She watched Jareth scowl as he glared away from her.

"Hubris," he said, through gritted teeth. "She nearly died because of my hubris. I thought I could protect her but…" and then his voice broke. He was exceedingly frustrated and the wrist of the hand holding the crystal curled in reflection of it. "You were right. You warned me. And I, as I always do, accepted the challenge like just any other game." A tick moved through his jaw and he forced himself to look at her. He was conceding himself to her, in a way he never before had. It was demeaning. Humiliating. The only thing that felt right. "I acknowledge now that you are the only thing that can truly keep her safe. You can sense the danger before it ever makes itself known. You can evoke her and heal her in ways that I cannot. Today proved there are circumstances that I cannot prevent. Where, as you said, I cannot be there for her like you can." He rolled the crystal atop his fingers and both glanced at it reflexively as it caught the light from her fire above. "I don't trust you... I fear I may be making the worst possible mistake but...you can protect her. That's all that matters."

His voice had fallen so solemn, so defeated. He stared lifelessly at the proof of his efforts, at the tiny, delicate thing that had proved to be Liana's most formidable foe. Liana felt some of the tension leave her, her heart taming as it absorbed the quietude from his.

"My Liege…" she said, with an odd sense of affection that he had never heard from her. She smiled, and he drew his brow on her when she turned one of her hands palm up and then lightly grazed a forefinger along it. When she pulled back, a single golden petal was offered to him. "And there you are." She met his gaze with confidence as he accepted the token, now feeling uncertain for a myriad of reasons. Why was she looking at him like that? Was she just satisfied in his submission?

Not wanting to lose conviction by pondering all that too deeply, he looked away from her and pressed the petal to the crystal. It sank within and, automatically, the magics intertwined and the charm he'd kept so closely guarded now nulled and dissipated into the realm of the crystal. The petal too melted, its golden chroma mingling with his spell before both faded into nothingness. He frowned dejectedly, in silence. So simple. So quick. This little thing had taken so much scheming, so much effort, and had complicated everything. And now it was gone. Just like that. He was defenseless. He had no more cards to bear.

He was startled by the feeling of her hand tracing a line down his cheek. Jareth looked up, visibly recoiling, but her look on him was nothing but kind. "You have no idea what this means," she said, softly. Jareth turned away from her, removing himself from her touch.

"It means now we are all at your mercy," he stated. Liana tilted her head.

"No...not mine." He turned back at her curious words, though only watched as she reclined once more against the pillar. "I gave you my word. I will not interfere with the two of you. I will not instigate her awakening. In fact, in a measure of goodwill, I will continue to prolong her ascension for as long as possible...So long as you keep to your word. So long as you continue to treasure her above all else."

Jareth stared at the floor as he accepted her words. There was nothing else for him to do. No other corners to hide in. He knew now that she could force Sarah to awaken by whim, that it was sheer cat and mouse that she hadn't done so already. He was always powerless. It was by that charm alone that he defended his world from spiraling out of control. But that didn't matter. Nothing about this, about him, mattered. The only thing that meant anything at all was that she could live. That she never need feel that kind of pain again. That she could forget it and be allowed to smile, endlessly.

He could not bear to see her suffering. Could not bear that it was because of him. All of this. Everything. It was always because of him.

Feeling thoroughly demeaned, Jareth exhaled and stood to his feet.

"Thank you," he said, with a type of uncertainty that implied he'd never before uttered such words. Liana tilted her head again as she regarded him. The light atop her pillar pulsed brighter, though with his back now to her, he failed to see it. "Please...do not make me regret this."

He left after that. Without another word. And neither had she any more to give him. Once he was gone she stood to her feet, not without strain mind you, but with significantly less than she'd conveyed previously. She paced around the pillar, focusing on the saucer as her hands lowered into the black pool that rippled within it. Her hands lowered deeply, to the elbow, before pulling back to clutch a large mound that thumped in her hands. The viscous liquid dripped down her arms, back to the shallow saucer whence it came. The pulse of the object resounded in space, thrummed through all, and she smiled. She smiled so sweetly, and gently caressed the organ with her thumbs.

"Yes...yes I know. I felt it too." She spoke in a hushed tone, with eyes wayward and endearing, before cooing the thing to sleep and placing it back in the bowl. The thumping lulled, faded away, as did the remainder of Liana's worries. What perfect timing. Perhaps the events of the day were not as tragic as she'd thought.

---

Jareth walked in discontented silence as he headed back to Sarah's room. He'd initially stayed with her for several hours, watching her carefully until he was sure her condition was stabilized. He did not want to leave her, but his business with Liana felt like something that could not wait. He was beside himself. He'd never felt so defeated. All he wanted was to make Sarah happy. All he wanted was to love her. Why...was that so fucking hard?

He cursed himself. Death was not something a fae was accustomed to. It was not something one dealt with well. He swallowed hard as his eyes closed and he shook his head. Panic. Terror. Incompetence. He'd felt it all before. Only once. The last time he'd held a woman dying in his arms.

With a shudder, he pushed the intrusive thoughts away. No. No, this was not the time to be drudging through that. He rejected the melancholy and reminded himself of the fact that Sarah did live. That she would live. That he would do anything, give anything, to ensure it. It didn't matter if Liana broke her word. It didn't matter if the world ended by the time he reached her door.

He'd take her to a new world. He'd build one just for her.

"Goodness, Your Majesty!"

Jareth glared up at the sound of a very frightened nymph flagging him down from the end of the hall. He stopped pacing, and stood rigidly as she hurried to face him.

"Where is Sarah? What happened? Is she alright?" Her look and her voice were impassioned, her stare piercing straight through his in a very aggravating manner.

"You forget yourself," he said, with warning, though in actuality her lack of decorum was the least of his qualms. Mariella recoiled, her expression falling pitifully, and she took a step back before bowing her head and clasping her hands out in front of her.

"F-forgive me, Your Grace. I meant no disrespect. It's just. Gods, I'm so scared. Is Sarah okay? Is she hurt? Captain Baldur just returned to the castle and it's said that Sir Didymus was greatly injured. The entire castle is in uproar. The Captain said you retrieved her but no one has seen or heard anything for hours. I'm just-"

"Enough." Jareth's voice, though commanding, was much softer than she'd anticipated. She peered up, keeping her head bowed, and found him to look remarkably...tired. He was staring down at her, no, through her. And this surprising lack of aggression gave her the courage to relax her posture slightly. She began to straighten, though kept her gaze averted from his. Jareth sighed, though it was a gesture too subtle to realize. "She is alive," he said, plainly. Mariella, on instinct, again broke custom and shot her gaze up at him.

"Thank gods," she said, feeling a surge of relief so powerful it was audible in her voice. Jareth, admittedly affected by the display, chose to ignore her continued eyes on his. "Will she be alright?"

"She will...in time."

Now Mariella frowned. A worried hand raised to her chest.

"May I ask what you mean?"

"She is resting now...she will require several days to fully recover," he explained, and watched as Mariella's brow drew tight with worry.

"Recover?"

Jareth's gaze on hers hardened as she realized the direness of her situation.

"She was poisoned," he said, his expression unfazed when she took a fearful step back.

"Gods...Your Majesty I'm- forgive me, I am so sorry." She bowed herself low in a fit of repentance and placed her hands to her knees. "Punish me as you will. Take my life, I owe it. I offer it willingly," she said, alluding to his threat of taking all of their heads should Sarah come to harm. He saw her hands tighten into fists on the skirt of her dress as she prostrated herself before him, and his expression hardened further. "All that matters is that she is okay. That she will be okay. I am so happy for that. So unbearably relieved."

There was waver in her voice, raw emotion that could never be feigned. Jareth's frown worsened as he registered it. As he recognized the despondency and bittersweet hopefulness that weighed her shoulders. This woman...really did love her, too, didn't she?

He felt his posture relax, if only slightly.

"Thank her," he said, and she glanced up impulsively. He took a step, glancing down and pausing only when they stood in line. "Were it not for her fondness of you, you would be dead where you stand," he finished, and then walked away.

Mariella straightened and stared after him, her racing heart not anywhere close to relieved. She was nearly certain he intended to punish her. It was certainly within his right. Had he really shown mercy? Was Sarah truly alright?

She gulped and turned away. Her instinct was to go to Sarah but knew from the direction Jareth was headed in that that was his intended destination. No...no she was not needed right now. What she needed to do was inform Master Roldan. To call off the Guard and settle the castle down. Goodness...what a shocking turn of events.

---

Sarah winced as she struggled to open her eyes. She saw such blackness. Vast, unending blackness. It was warm. Tangible. Like being held. Like the very depths of the cosmos itself was enveloping her.

She had no idea how long she'd been asleep, but her body felt like a dead weight that strained to move. The light from her window shone brightly. Too brightly. And she realized it was because the sun was glaring at her. That only happened in the early morning...what time was it?

Scowling, she blinked until her eyes adjusted and she tried to shift farther up the bed. Wait. Bed? When did she get into bed? She glanced over herself and saw she was wearing a nightgown, and was tucked neatly beneath her comforter.

She brought a hand to rub the sleep from her eyes and then peered to the left. There. At the edge of the bed just shy of her shoulder, with his arms crossed and his head lain lifelessly atop them, was Jareth. Her captor. Her husband. And now her savior.

As if feeling her shifting through the mattress, he roused, waking from an apparent slumber, as he lifted his head slowly from the bed. Their eyes locked, for just a moment, before a shroud lowered over his and his gaze passed through her.

"Ah, you're finally awake."

Sarah's brow twisted slightly. She was confused. Disoriented. He looked exhausted, like he hadn't slept in days. How long had he been sitting at her bedside?

"How...how long was I out for?" she asked. Jareth leaned up and took in a deep breath as he glanced across the room at the clock.

"About eighteen hours," he said, to her surprise. "It's nearly six a.m."

Sarah pressed her hands to the bed and tried to sit up. She failed, and could only whimper as her body fell hopelessly back to the mattress.

"Don't-" Jareth warned, quickly turning his attention back to her. Sarah scowled and gave in, letting herself go lax.

"Why...why does it still hurt? Why can't I move?" she asked. Jareth frowned as he regarded her, hesitating before responding.

"The seizures can cause extensive damage to the muscular structure of your body. Like millions and millions of micro-tears. A being of this world might be able to manage it better but...as a human, I imagine you will be very sore for the next couple of days. I suggest you take it in stride," he explained, though Sarah was finding it hard to focus. Instead she was trying to remember the previous day, to dissect in retrospect everything that had happened.

"So...I really was able to sleep through it then," she said, glancing away as the haze cleared. It came back to her in pieces. The Labyrinth. The monster. The pain. And then his song. She remembered his song.

"Yes. Though, not quite as peacefully as I'd hoped," he said, which caught her attention. She glanced over to him.

"I don't remember anything," she said, meaning to reassure him. His eyes lowered however, creating an expression that was less than satisfied. Sarah frowned.

"Good."

"What...what happened? I know you said I was poisoned but…" She closed her eyes and grimaced as she shifted on the bed. She couldn't help it. She was far from comfortable but every little twinge just made her feel worse.

"What attacked you is known as a Herdsman," he said.

"Yeah...Baldur said as much. Why did it attack us?"

"It wanted to take you as part of its flock."

"What?"

Sarah rolled her head towards him again and this time her eyes widened. In a sense she'd already guessed that, but the memories were still blurry and not quite put together. She remembered its riddles. The way it threatened to turn her should she answer them wrong...

"Its venom causes paralysis," Jareth explained, pulling her from her thoughts. "It uses it to immobilize its victims before cursing them into the form of cattle, mindless and obedient, which it leads from market to market and sells off to the highest bidder." Jareth's expression and his tone gave nothing away, but Sarah, purely unable to shield herself at the moment, gaped at him with alarm.

"What? You mean slaves? It sells them as slaves?"

"Yes."

Her distress quickly shifted to outrage as she scowled and shook her head.

"But...I'm the Queen…I told it that but that only made it more interested." She didn't get it. Why wasn't it afraid? Even as it injured itself in the process...Didn't it realize Jareth would retaliate?

"Exactly," Jareth said, surprising her by reaching out and clasping her hand. She looked over to him to find his lowered gaze now troubled. "You are...undoubtedly, the most valuable prize in the kingdom."

"I don't- why did it not acknowledge my authority? Or yours for that matter. Is that kind of business legal here?" she asked, beside herself. Feeling impassioned, she subconsciously made a move to sit up again and, upon seeing her struggling efforts, Jareth sighed roughly and stood from his chair as he leaned over her.

"Your understanding of societal infrastructure is childishly black and white," he said, grumbled really, as he crawled over her and laid down on the bed beside her. Sarah paused, allowing him to turn her away from him as the length of his body settled against hers. One of his arms snaked under her pillow, while the other draped over her, and he pulled her back against his torso as he embraced her from behind. It should have been an intimate gesture. It should have reassured her. But it didn't. Not from the air of exasperation that had stung her as he spoke. "It is most certainly not legal. But yes, the industry exists all the same. I've told you, countlessly, that not all of my subjects are honorable, law-abiding members of society. A human Queen, to the right buyer, would be a priceless collectible."

Sarah's arms drew into herself. He was scolding her, a hint of derision in his voice. She could feel the heat of his breath in the back of her hair as he spoke, and while he was very much calm and level-headed, it registered as something louder to her. His arms were caging her in, holding her in a manner that she realized was not so much out of tenderness, but in the simple effort to prevent her from trying to sit up once more.

"So those...all those sheep...they were people?" she asked. There was turmoil in her voice, disbelief, outrage. Those dozens of sheep had been actual people, people who had been kidnapped, and drugged, and forced into a life they did not want...And Jareth killed them. Without a blink. He killed them. They were innocent. Slaves. She didn't...no, she couldn't think about that right now.

"Yes," he said, vacantly, as if sensing the turn of her thoughts. She felt his hands, gripping her wrists, tighten just barely. He was tense against her, no doubt anticipating where she would lead the conversation next.

"You...killed them…"

There was no judgement in her voice, at least she hoped not. She felt...conflicted, but more so she knew enough not to belittle him for taking decisive action.

"Yes," he said, harshly. Sarah flinched. Damn. Guess her tone wasn't as impartial as she'd thought. "I killed everything within a threatening proximity of you. I reacted in a manner that saved your life."

"I know. I know I'm not- I'm not trying to sound ungrateful, but...they were innocent," she said, doing little to help her cause. She curled into herself a little more as she struggled for bearings.

"Innocent?" Jareth repeated, as if offended by the word. She felt him huff in her hair. "They were bewitched. Their minds were no longer theirs. That creature could have just as easily used them against you."

"Oh…" and her eyes lowered to the bed. She'd never...considered that... "I'm sorry-"

"You're damn right you are," he said, sharply, and startled her when he sighed and adjusted his grip to instead lace the fingers of both their hands together. Sarah was silent, but stared at their conjoined hands as a tiny flare of warmth struck her. His splayed fingers constricted hers, the tenderness of the hold betraying his anger as he said, "How many times must I repeat myself? How many times have I told you how dangerous it is within the Labyrinth?"

"A lot. I know. I didn't go in there intentionally. It freaking took me," she argued, to her defense. She was glad she wasn't facing him. In her current state, she wasn't sure she would be able to handle whatever his expression had twisted into. His voice was rising, gaining more anger with each sentence.

"You should not have been anywhere remotely near it. Why do you think you were restricted to the market sector?"

"So you didn't trust me?"

"A suspicion well-founded, it seems."

And now they were arguing. Sarah, fighting against the instinctive urge to turn around and glare at him, resigned herself to squeezing his hands in equal frustration.

"I did not go in!" she repeated, her voice straining as she forced it to remain as composed as possible. "Ask the guards, I never had any intention of going in. All I did was touch the damn thing…"

"Exactly. And look at the consequences your carelessness has yielded you." She said nothing to that. Only stewed as he pressed his nose into her hair. "You should have called for me the moment it spirited you away."

"I...I know. I just...didn't think it was such a big deal. A part of me thought you must have known...that if I were in danger you would have scooped me up well beforehand," she tried to explain, to somehow justify herself when she knew she had no real explanation. How could she say being there had just felt right? How could she convey the strange feeling simply touching the walls had given her? Would she sound crazy? Was she crazy?

"And after it attacked?"

"I...I don't know. I got caught up in the moment. Maybe it was adrenaline. I wasn't thinking."

"No. You weren't." There was an edge to his voice that now contradicted the supposed tenderness of his hold and Sarah found herself trying to pull their hands apart in response to it. "What did you promise me just this morning? That you would not walk into pointy objects? Did you think that was a joke? I knew you were reckless, but never before have I regarded you as stupid."

"You don't have to be mean-"

"Don't I? How else am I to express myself?" Jareth interrupted her, jerking on her hands in warning for her to cease pulling away from him. Sarah was starting to get scared again. The tone of his voice was rising, but his manner did not match his words. It was confusing. "You can't possibly begin to understand what I'm feeling. If I ever lost you…" he muttered, softer this time, but still terse with contention.

"Jareth…"

"You have no idea. No fucking idea how close you came to death," he carried on as if she'd never spoken. And the rise, the tension, the ire towards her, was back in full force. "It's pitiful. You would have died there with that dumb look on your face and for absolutely nothing." She shied away from him and his harsh words, but was forced to accept them nonetheless. "Perhaps it's my fault. Perhaps I've coddled you into a false sense of security about this place. Made you feel safe with my wards and my watchful eye. But this is not like before. This is not some staged play for you to prance around in aimlessly while I do nothing but bear the nightmares and the horror before it has the chance to reach you. So do you finally believe me? Do you finally believe that I really did protect you all those years ago? That I did everything in my power to allow a spoiled little girl to trample over my kingdom only to have it all thrown back in my face?" He was far from yelling but he did not need to. His grip on her hands tightened and had her squirming as contrary tears formed in her eyes. She was being stupid by letting him get to her like this. But she couldn't help it. She was too vulnerable right now. And his heat, the feel of his chest pressed against her back -it was comforting and it made no sense at all. "You've made a habit out of making me repeat myself. -You are ignorant but you are not a child. I should not have to watch over you every waking second like a child. I have trusted you, implicitly. I have trusted you not to make stupid, careless, childish decisions. Perhaps that faith was unfounded. Perhaps you really are hapless."

"Wha-? Jareth-"

"From now on you are prohibited from leaving this castle without my direct supervision. You are not to take one single step outside of these walls -indefinitely."

Indefinitely? Caught of guard by the sudden change in discussion, this time Sarah did muster the courage to turn and glance back at him. Unsurprisingly, his stare on her was stone, fierce, and firmly resolved.

"What? You're grounding me?" she asked, with a sense of obstination that he prayed, for her own sake, she would not express any further.

"Yes. If you insist on acting like a child then I will punish you like one. You'll be lucky if I even let you leave this room." He watched her eyes widen with shock.

"Jareth that's-"

"That's what?" he dared her, his voice a clipped bark. She shut her open mouth and his eyes narrowed on hers. "Go on, say it."

Sarah's eyes fluttered and she licked her lips as her confidence broke. She glared away from him, swallowing hard as she tried her very best to hide in her pillow. She drew her knees into herself subconsciously, though her hands only held his closer to her chest.

"You...you said you weren't mad…" she mumbled.

"I wasn't."

It still hurt to move, but she didn't care. It felt like nothing in comparison to the shame his berratement was forcing upon her. She was confused. He'd been so loving towards her as he held her on the floor. So uncharacteristically vulnerable. Was he trying to compensate? Or was he fully justified? Was she really no better than a bumbling idiot?

"I-I'm sorry," she stammered, not knowing what else to say.

"You keep saying that. Is it supposed to mean something different?"

"No. I just…" And then she paused. Words failed her. She let them fall dead on the end of her tongue and she scowled as she turned her face into her pillow. He did not say anything. Did not make a sound. She let herself suffer there for a moment, and then she realized…His heart was beating even more frantically than hers.

Her eyes opened and she focused on it, on the forceful thumping that was so strong she could actually feel it against her spine. It was racing a million miles a minute and she knew...she'd been wrong. He wasn't angry with her. Even as he spoke so cruelly with the intention of making her squirm, he was not angry with her. He was afraid. He was still afraid. He kept his fingers entwined with hers and refused to let them go, refused her the slightest reprieve as their bodies pressed in full alignment against one another. Like she would slip away. Like he would lose her if he let her go.

He was lashing out. He was in pain. He was gripping her tightly. She saw past his cruelty. The anger was trite. It was hollow. It was broken and confused, and everything that she was feeling now. He'd stayed up all night caring for her... And while she had healed in blissful ignorance, he was still suffering. And he'd been doing so completely alone.

She squeezed his hand harder as the words fell breathlessly from her lips.

"I love you."

There was a pause. A break in the tension that had been strangling her. Did she really say it? Was it a thought? She swallowed again and waited for his response. Her fingers curled in her hold of him, leaving her painfully aware that his had gone all but limp. Then she felt the anger calm. She felt his heartbeat start to settle. He shifted, though any significance to the motion was indiscernible.

"Try that again...when you're not afraid to say it to my face."

If she did not understand him completely, she would have been shattered then and there. His voice fell with dispassion, became soft and closed-off. She felt such anguish in that moment. So heartbroken over the fact that he had every right not to believe her. All this time, all the things he'd ever said and done, and the lengths he'd gone to prove himself had been unanimously unrequetted. She spent so much time fighting the instinct to love him that now, as she found herself begging for that connection, she could not for the life of her remember why she had bothered waiting so long to tell him at all. She turned around in his grasp, ignoring the pain as she angled her head back sharply. Their eyes locked, their noses touched, but the spark it may have elicited went ignored by the both of them. Their expressions mirrored one another in a sense of guarded passion.

"I love you," she repeated, staring at him with eyes unblinking, and searched deeply into his own. His brow twitched. He wasn't expecting that. Wasn't expecting the resolve he saw in such a look. Her eyes glistened, glowed green and bright with impulse, and worry, and fervor. The tears that once threatened her now retreated and left her expression rounded and quibbling. She was hanging on his next word. Bearing herself to his mercy. And yet somehow she still managed to look so proud.

The faintest of smiles curled his lips, and he achingly withdrew his hand from hers as it rose to grasp the side of her face.

There was no change in their expressions. None at all. But the admission was not in their stares.

"That's better," he said, and angled forward to kiss her. He pressed his lips to hers lightly, with a careful tenderness that ironically spurred her passion. She pressed back and tried to deepen it but he pulled away. Instead his thumb caressed her cheek and his eyes fell languidly to her mouth that now pouted with worry. He smiled again, indulging her one last time with a chaste brush of the lips. "...But you're still grounded."

She looked anxious when he pulled away from her, when he turned her back around and resituated them in their original position. He pressed his torso against hers, nuzzled his face in her hair, and found her hands with his. When they clasped, she felt differently. She relaxed against her pillow and welcomed it.

"Do...you still love me too?"

Her voice was meek, riddled with insecurity, and he smiled like the scoundrel he still was at the sound of it. He subdued the urge to tease her and instead ran his thumb along her knuckles. He huffed with amusement, with disbelief, with a sense of calm he'd never quite felt before. "Of course I love you. Above all else…"

---

A/N- Phew...damn. That was a bit of a wild ride eh? So much plot in so little time...where to even begin? ;)