Hello, dear ones. Thank you for reading! Do review and comment if you can spare a moment, I really appreciate the community aspect of this website =) This story is getting long, so I'm soon going to go back and add a table of contents eventually and re-edit my chapters.

Enjoy!

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Sarah stroked her peryton's neck tenderly. The soft, dusty musk was a welcome smell. The peryton, Isabell, let out a satisfied huff as Sarah scratched behind it's fuzzy ears. Two days after her and Jareth's "first" kiss, Sarah and her peryton stood in the field next to the alpine lake where she and Jareth had had their first date. The water glistened as brilliantly as it has that day, and the bright, electric green grass swayed gently in the breeze.

A white barn owl was hopping along the ground next to her. Sarah was mostly used to Jareth in his owl form.

Mostly.

"Ready to go up again?" she asked. Today's date together was a flying date, something Sarah couldn't believe was actually a thing in which she found herself participating. Jareth had looked slightly offended when his request was met with a blank stare; how could he expect Sarah to react normally to, "would you like to go on a flying date?" Flying was not a casual past time.

Well, it was for Jareth.

Sarah had taken a moment to remember she did in fact have a means to fly. She wondered if Jareth had "bird buddies," Fae or animal, with whom he went flying around. Could he speak with other birds? Too many questions in her head—and she still hadn't said yes.

Before lifting off the grass, the barn owl—Jareth—nodded and took to the sky. Sarah chuckled and mounted her peryton. The winged deer flapped her strong wings and rose, the steadily accelerating beat of wings a drumbeat in the serene valley.

Isabell made large circles around the circumference of the valley, climbing higher and higher. Sarah's stomach dropped as Isabell hitched lightly under her, coming to a glide. They floated on air as if they were nothing more than feathers in the wind, drifting gently downward. Jareth, who had been following close behind, glided next to them.

Sarah smiled. "Let's go higher!" she called. Her knees nudged the auburn steed and the drumbeat of wings began again.

Higher, higher, higher they climbed. Sarah couldn't yet read the expressions on Jareth's owl face, but she thought he appeared amused as he flew next to her.

"It's certainly a bit cooler up here!" Sarah called out again. Cooler, and the wind had picked up. Still, the sky was blue and mostly clear of clouds. Sarah could see all of the Labyrinth and the flat, barren lands that extended beyond. The horizon was dark, as if the world dissipated into nothing.

Isabell banked to the left as a sudden gust of wind from the right took them by surprise. Sarah's grip instinctively tightened around the neck of her peryton. She adjusted herself in the saddle and looked to make sure Jareth was still flying steadily. She caught the tail-end of him flapping frantically to straighten himself out. Then, another gust assailed them, this time from in front.

Jareth's eyes narrowed. He flew higher and flapped his wings quickly to hover in one place. He twisted his head nearly one-hundred and eighty degrees to look for something out of place. But, no one was in the valley below.

The wind was picking up.

"Jareth, maybe we should—" Sarah's words caught in her throat. Thick, grey clouds were forming all around them. They billowed and curled like ominous waves, materializing from nothing. In an instant, the sky was charcoal with tawny streaks. The wind tossed them around like a cat would a mouse before making the final kill. Isabell bellowed in distress.

"We must get to the ground!" Jareth's voice cried in her head.

Something unseen stung Sarah's cheek. Then something whipped across her arm. Then her neck; she felt a warm trickle of blood against her already chilled skin.

An ice storm raged around them.

Jareth tucked his wings in and tried to plunge towards the earth, but the wind was so strong it jerked him about like a rag doll. Feathers were ripped from his skin and scattered all around him.

"Isabell!" screamed Sarah above the roaring wind and ice. "Down!" It was all she could do to not fall. Isabell's coat was growing sleek from sweat and melting ice pellets. Isabell rocked left and right, twisting so far, she almost turned Sarah upside down. The poor beast instinctively knew not to open her wings all the way. But Sarah was slipping, and it was so cold she couldn't breathe. The icy air stung her lungs like a thousand tiny needles. The peryton tried to make her way downward, but neither gliding nor dropping like a stone was an option in this wind. Sarah lost sight of Jareth.

Icicles had formed on Sarah's eyelashes. Her lips were turning blue. Tiny streaks of red and pink were striped across her arms, flogged by ice.

"Isabell…please…" Sarah couldn't breathe, the cold was choking. Her eyes were going blurry. It was so cold, so cold…

Isabell bellowed again and spread her wings to try and fly ahead and out of this evil storm.

Crack.

The sound was sickening, unnatural. Not like the clean break of a tree branch, but dull and wet as Isabell's wing dislocated from her shoulder.

"Isabell…" Sarah's vision went dark as she was thrown from the peryton's back. Isabell desperately beat her good wing, spiraling sideways towards the ground.

Sarah was flipped and flung around like a lost ship on a cruel ocean. Had she been conscious, any screams would've been lost in the roar of the wind and suffocated by the cold. She was plunging to earth at full speed.

But to Jareth, it seemed like she was falling in slow motion.

Without thinking he changed into his human form.

His almost human form.

He rocketed towards Sarah, using all his magic to propel him. In the place of arms were two massive wings that had torn through his shirt. He kept them tucked. His hair had been replaced by a mane of feathers. Loose cream-colored and brown feathers whipped around him like a cloud. His eyes, though still different colors, were the large and orbicular eyes of his animal form. Under the thick pelt of feathers, his earlobes were flat against his head, and the opening of his ears were now large, gaping holes to give him the amplified hearing of an owl.

He used all his magic to propel himself towards his love, who would soon meet her end if he did not reach her.

The crack of ice against his face muffled the sharp crack of his pant-seams and boots as thick, taloned legs burst from the restraint of his clothing. Jareth let out a yell as feathers pushed through his skin and his knees bent backwards at the joint.

He was getting close to her. Closer still…

And so was the ground.

Jareth sent another surge of magic through his body and through the air. As he did, he let out a bird-like shriek and his nose and lips hooked into a beak. He hurtled towards her faster, bloody streaks covering his face as the ice cut his skin. He was almost there.

He stretched out his talons and wrapped them around an arm and a shoulder. He flapped frantically, breaking their descent.

He stopped them from crashing to the ground only moments before impact. He dropped Sarah lightly and fell beside her, tucking his wings and rolling instinctively.

"Sarah…"
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When Sarah opened her eyes, the ceiling above her was moving.

Rather, she was moving—but how?

As she emerged from the fog of sleep, she could distinguish where her body ended and the two arms that carried her began. Their heat radiated through her cold, drenched clothing.

As everything came into focus, she could make out the Goblin King's face directly above her. She was propped against his shoulder as he cradled her tenderly.

"Jareth…" she rasped; her throat hurt. She shivered violently.

"Be still, love," he said softly.

She closed her eyes and rested her head against him again. He was so warm, and she was still so cold.

Her eyes shot open.

"Isabell! Isabell, is she—"

"She's fine. I protected her from the fall and her wing has been tended to."

Sarah slumped against him again, exhaling a sigh of relief.

Jareth took her to her room and laid her in her bed. He tucked her in, cupping her cheek in his hand.

"Berta and your ladies-in-waiting will be here any minute to get you out of these wet clothes and into a hot bath." Sarah tried to smile through shivering teeth up at him.

Her mouth went dry when she realized just how disheveled he looked. His hair was matted, and for some reason had several feathers sticking out of it. There were red, needle-width streaks of red across his face where the hail had struck him. His clothes hung off his body in rags. What had happened to him?

"Jareth, wha—"

"Don't worry about me, my love," he said as if reading her mind. In a rare moment of naked, uninhibited intimacy, Jareth leaned over her in exhaustion, resting his head on her blanketed belly. He breathed deeply. The weight of him eased Sarah's shivering.

Jareth lay there, taking in the few moments he didn't have to appear strong. He felt as if he was absorbing strength, a different kind of strength, resting there with her. Sarah freed an arm from the covers to stroke his wet hair. This felt…adult. Sarah thought it was a strange feeling, the emotional maturity it took to comfort another when you needed comforting yourself. She hoped she was making a difference. She rubbed his back.

"I'm guessing you saved me?" she inquired.

"Yet again, I am the hero of the day," he quipped. Sarah chucked.

"So you say. Whose to say a goblin didn't break my fall?"

Jareth's laugh was weak yet genuine. "I guarantee you, you'd smell it if you landed on a goblin." Now it was Sarah's turn to laugh. They lay there in precious silence for a few more moments.

"You know, I coulda walked," said Sarah.

"And yet, you are only just now saying this."

"Touché."

Jareth sat up. "That ice storm came out of nowhere. I know it was Ice Magic, just like the icicle."

"But why would the Ice Giants want to kill me?" asked Sarah in disbelief. The storm had materialized from nothing—like magic—but she had chalked it up to the erratic magic of the Labyrinth.

"We don't know if it's the Ice Giants…" said Jareth, his voice not even convincing himself. A second attack of Ice Magic…was it really just someone trying to cover their tracks? He tried to shake the doubt from his mind; they must avoid another war. He continued, "It was magic that included a locator spell. Usually divination is not so hard, but Ice Magic is direct; they would've needed something of yours. Something personal.

All the blood drained from Sarah's face and she gasped sharply. Her vision blacked out for a moment as she heard the blood rushing in her ears like the wind they had just escaped.

Her hair. The hairs she had traded in the market. She instinctively drew her hand away from Jareth and touched the earrings she had traded for; it was a miracle they were still in her ears.

Jareth frowned. "What is it?"

"Nothing. I—" Sarah wasn't sure what to say. Should she tell him? No, he would be angry. But lying to him was wrong, it wouldn't just be lying to the Goblin King, it would be lying to her…

"I traded two of my hairs at the market in exchange for earrings."

Jareth stared at her, blankly. Sarah began to squirm under his gaze. He was just sitting there, staring. In disbelief? In anger?

Jareth stood briskly. Sarah could see a vein on the side of his neck bulging.

"A pair of earrings?" he spit through gritted teeth. Sarah wished she had left that part out. "What were you thinking? This isn't New York!" He was yelling now.

"I'm sorry!" she cried.

"You've been so…so childish."

"I am a child!"

Sarah's retort cast silence over the king. He stood there, fuming, while his chest heaved.

He exhaled long and slow. "Well," he said slowly, "what's done is done. Maybe I can track the magic now that I know what was most likely their means of targeting you." He spoke with obvious restraint. He turned abruptly and stormed towards the door. He stopped short before the threshold. Sarah saw his shoulders raise slightly, tensing. They sunk as he released a long exhale and turned back towards her wearily. He came back to the bed and placed a kiss upon on her forehead and her lips. Sarah cupped his cheek with her free hand. She felt guilty for disappointing him. Her eyes were wide with unspoken apology. He smiled at her reassuringly, though his eyes were tired.

He placed another kiss on her lips, lingering on their moist, supple flesh. He could not stay mad at her. Her shivering pulled him from his reverie.

"If those hags don't get here soon, it's the Bog for them," he said. Sarah just lifted an eyebrow with a disapproving smirk; she knew he wouldn't really. He gave her a wink, and tiredly walked out the door.

Sarah's brow furrowed. He must be tired; she didn't think she'd ever seen him use the door before.

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Thank you for reading! And especially thank you for the favorites and follows. I've been informed you have to manually activated email notifications now (Account – Settings – Email Opt-in YES), so make sure you do that!

The attacks intensified…as did the relationship. I think you guys will like the next truly juicy chapters I have planned =-)