Amalia Fairskies walked languorously through one of her long banquet halls. The crystal walls let in red and orange light as the daylight disappeared.

She lazily ran her finger around the crystal goblet in her hand before taking a long, slow draught of wine. Her long tresses gently danced for a moment as a soft whoosh went through the air. She was no longer alone.

"The Twins told me about your beautiful bride-to-be. She's a feisty one, that one," she remarked.

Jareth took a glass of already-poured wine from the table; she always knew when he would show up. He gulped down the whole glass before pouring himself another.

"Yes, we are in the courting phase."

"Oh Jareth, come on. Don't lie to me," she said harshly, her regal posture and tone disappearing. "You know I don't care that she's a kidnapped bride. Not like she's the first."

"She wished herself away fair and square."

"Pleeeease. 'Fair' is a stretch. Like I said, you know I don't care. It's the others who would. A weak link in the council weakens the council, and of course they have their absolutely dismal ideas about right and wrong. But, I'm impressed you actually got her here."

"I'm a very patient man," he said pensively. They were speaking as they had as children. Casual but with candor.

"I haven't had a serious talk with you in a while," he continued.

"Because your priorities have lain elsewhere for so long," she barked sourly.

"The Labyrinth is and always has been my priority."

"You don't act like it!" She was almost yelling now.

"I will not betray my kingdom."

"Betrayal," she scoffed. "You would know all about that."

"I never said I loved your sister," he said sharply. "I never led her on. It was never my intention to harm her. It was never my intention…what happened." His voice was low now and tinged with sadness. "I am not wrong for pursuing the girl. It is good for a king to have a queen."

"You could've had a queen! You could've had a queen of your own kind."

"She is a champion. She is the champion."

"She is a child!" yelled Amalia, once more shouting.

They were standing only inches from each other now, the tension between them so tight it might snap like a bow string pulled too tight.

"She is a human child." Amalia's words were biting.

They stared at each other, fire in their eyes. Jareth broke from her gaze to drink his wine, afraid of what he might do should his anger get out of hand. He took a deep breath, allowing the drink to make his shoulders relax and mind feel heavy.

"I'm sorry."

They drank in silence until their cups were empty. Amalia waved her hands and they were magically refilled once more.

"Jareth," she said softly and earnestly, "you're my oldest friend—"

"Are we friends? After everything, are we really still friends?" he snapped.

"I don't want to be enemies," she said truthfully. The heaviness in her voice startled Jareth.

"Is that a threat?" he asked.

She cocked her head and considered. "Truthfully, I don't know anymore. I know I'm not willing to let you upset the balance of everything we have achieved. And the Ice Giants grow restless, I can just sense it."

"Let me worry about my realm, you worry about yours. And Malachi will worry about the Ice Giants. Sarah is mine. She will be my Queen. This is just a…delay."

Amalia scoffed and roughly threw back another drink of wine.

"She seems to be of a different opinion."

"It's complicated. She's worthy of being queen. She should be queen. And this means she's under my protection." He downed the rest of his drink and walked away, ready to leave.

"And what makes you think she needs protection?" she called after him sarcastically.

He turned sharply, but walked back to her slowly.

"I am asking you, as a friend, don't try anything." He looked into her eyes, searching for her intentions there in their blue depths.

"You don't have friends. Centuries and we've never used the word until today."

"You're right, but—"

"I can't promise you I won't do what's necessary to protect the balance," she interrupted, ignoring whatever he was about today. "The human has turned him soft," she thought.

Yet another impasse. Yet another stalemate. Jareth hated uncertainties. He hated ties and forfeits. He wanted to win.

But, he thought about all those hazy evenings playing in the Labyrinth with Amalia. Her sister always trailed behind, but they always managed to lose her. Still, she had tried every time.

As a child, Jareth could navigate the Labyrinth as if he himself had constructed the passageways. His heart softened when he remembered showing his companion the secrets and hidden wonders of the Labyrinth. She caught on fast and would always try to push him into the Bog of Eternal Stench, or wake some rabid beast to come tear him apart. He almost laughed right there and then remembering how he would always retaliate and try to push her off a cliff or catch her in an oubliette. They had gotten close to destroying each other just for fun, but they were evenly matched; Jareth could out-magic Amalia, but her cunning and the sheer strength of her will evened the playing field. Dastardly children they were, and as cruel and clever as any Fae.

He sighed. He might not trust Amalia, but he respected her. He would do what he must to keep her out of his business, but he would not enjoy it.

"Alright then," he said with finality. He took a small step back and bowed. She took a small step forward and curtsied. They stood there in silence, inches from each other, spite and respect and hatred and friendship all mixing in the air like smoke. She reached up and clapped a hand on his left shoulder, giving a little squeeze before turning into and dove and flying off into the rafters.